Both occupants of the room looked up as the enormous bouquet preceded Shunsui through the door. The young woman straightened, clipboard in hand, and swept her braid over one shoulder.
"Kyouraku-san," she said, "I trust you are aware visiting hours are over?"
Shunsui bowed extravagantly. "Recchan, darling—"
"Is there someone of that name here, I wonder," she said. Shunsui blinked but recovered instantaneously.
"Retsu-san – darling – as always the risk of your presence obliges me to bend the rules. How else could I be certain of meeting you, whose beauty is like a balm unto my heart?" He neatly extricated a yellow rose from its fellows in the glassine wrapper and made to offer it to her with a flourish.
She parried him with one hand, smiling.
"Please," she said, "spare me. I still have rounds to make. Sensei will examine you again this afternoon, Ukitake-san, but the medication seems to be controlling the inflammation well. I dare say you'll be out of here in aweek."
"Thank you, Unohana-san," said Ukitake. The door swung closed behind her.
Shunsui shrugged. "Third-years these days," he said. The appreciative tone belied the words.
"She's not so easily impressed," said Ukitake. Shunsui fancied the way he smiled was eerily similar to Unohana's in mildness.
"Luckily, you mean?"
Ukitake looked up at him, a little too quickly. Shunsui grinned and dropped the roses in his lap.