&& ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ɢᴏᴅ

There was no reply. Lithe fingers now caressing the tokkuri, Kyoraku was at a loss for words. Was the sake already affecting him? “--What a shame.” he would then reply, respectfully divvying out Yumichika’s portion. Kyoraku would not poor much for had not a clue if Yumichika had any responsibilities to attended to after their drinking session.  

“I had a meeting with Zaraki-taichou and he has yet to show up. --I had assumed he must have gotten tied up with your fuku-taichou.”

“--Sadly, to my dismay, you’re correct Ayasegawa-san. Care to join me?”

The drunkard happily sleeps, drunk.

“--Jushiro...” Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. 

“Kuchiki-san !” His call was only of deaf to miss. It could be expressed as embarrassing yet cheerful, for Kyoraku had been treating himself to an afternoon delight. Sake.

“--Moto-san,” The warmest of faces, were intern the hardest to forget. Their presence brought him such a sense of joy. “You look well.”

She was obviously out of place. This certainly was not good, especially since she was found wandering about h i s division. “--M-miss?”

“Espada-san, your skin looks as if it lacks the correct nourishment.” It must have been a result of Hueco Mundo’s atrocious atmosphere. Personally, Kyoraku would not last one minute with those harsh conditions. 

Starter Call !

Online !