The training grounds were quiet, abandoned after the war left too many scars to count. Moonlight spilled across cracked stone, reflecting off the edge of a zanpakutō that trembled in your weak grip. Each swing was slower than the last, your breaths ragged, body betraying you no matter how desperately you willed it forward because of the illness that’s plagued you for years now, stealing more of your strength every day.

A soft sigh came from the shadows.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, do you?”

Shunsui’s voice carried that familiar lazy warmth, but when he stepped into the light, his expression was heavier than usual. His straw hat tilted low, but his sharp gaze still caught the faint shake in your hands, the stubborn set of your jaw.

“After all we’ve been through, after all you’ve been through…” he murmured, coming closer, “…you think I’d let you break yourself like this?”

He stopped just short of reaching for you, his hand hovering like he couldn’t decide between scolding or holding. His smile was faint, tinged with something softer than usual.