the Deceitful.𝅄۫

Weary eyes, the result of a night of haunting by his scars - recent as they are deep - urge to narrow with glee, to mask such pressing reminder that no miracle could reassemble his guts in a matter of minutes without consequences --not one performed as an afterthought, at least.

"Your abscence bears no offense, Celeste. It only makes this reunion all the more delightful."

"I understand the circumstances. You made the nature of your task quite clear when we last met. I expected no less."

Like marble modeled by unsteady hands, her features bear the signs of the same somber affliction he remembered. He's seen them before, signs of adversity's carvings on others faces, as he sees the impressions of the unfathomable weight she carries in the name of her people.

Once again, there is a spark in him, a wish to aid, and see what lies beneath so much costernation. But imprudent eagerness might suffocate an already fragile bond, he fears. Insistence can be as violent as coercion.

"I'm most glad to see you again, really. Part of me was starting to worry whether I had frightened you away last time."

Vision quickly glancing at the documents before sliding back to meet her own, his hand leaves his side. This time, he shall offer it first. An exchange, a reminder of his promise.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤUnderstanding : Something, so seldom afforded, to Hollows. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThen again ; he had proven himself, sympathetic to her people. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ A burden - A BLOOD -shared.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤA burden, she does ALL, not to show, with the radiance of her smile. ㅤㅤㅤㅤIt was not ENTIRELY fallacy ; no, for here, in the company of he, she ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfelt almost at home. ALMOST.

❝ Ah, my friend, hardly so. ❞ She assures, the softest of CHEERY CHIRPS leaving her ! ❝ You've ... made me feel, as if I belong. You do not look upon me, with the deepest pity, nor the most severe of disgust. You look at me, as I were one of you. And that, means more than anything in the twin worlds, to me. ❞ Her truth, raw and given unabashedly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIf little else ; she'd returned because of him.

A hand, extended. She peers down at it, clutching papers tight, reflexive for a moment. It would stand to gather, that bundled 'neath her WINGS, she was at a severe disadvantage. Movement, hindered, utterly. She, permitted to fly - freely in the Seireitei, could not do so with the BURDEN OF PAPERWORK. Paperwork, she could hardly read, no less. Little more, than a GLORIFIED PASSENGER PIGEON. After a moment, she decides that - if any were deserving, it would be he.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤStack is handed carefully over, prim and proper.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ... Thank you. ❞

❝ ... I wish I were trusted with more, than being a mere messenger. But, I suppose I'm not quite as smart as Lady Nelliel or Harribel. Socially, I ... I'm truly of the friendlier sort, but ... ❞ Eyes fall to curled claws, digits loosely kissing her palm in the form of loose fists. Scales. Talons and fangs. She was too bestial, to represent her own. Ruff 'round her neck bristles, forcibly smoothed down. ❝ ... They know what's best. They, and your Head Captain. He treats me kindly. Doesn't ... speak to me as if I'm some animal. That's enough to be thankful for, I think. ❞

How a smile could leave him so unprepared.

Fleeting, glistening, as the Pleiades dashing through a velvety July night, and just as precious. Her merry chirps unravel the knots in his heart and face, almost lifting the dark traces of weariness under his eyes. To witness his intentions understood, and hear his presence so dearly welcome.. oh, it's time like these, indeed, when Rose remembers he yet lives, and his Undeath is but a far, woeful memory.

A smile in return, wide and warm, and a hand on his heart, feel most appropriate.

The same hand accepts the burden she so graciously allows him to ease.

"Anytime."

Following her remark, dark lashes lock in a squint, as his gaze follows strings of written word far too familiar to his role. Trivial forms, bureaucratic fluff of little importance--papers that any unseated officer could transport, if willing. And a lack of will is indeed at hand, he speculates, sour note strung by past experiences.

"I... find it hard to believe, that you lack acumen, Celeste, dear."

"Intelligence isn't measured by how many tasks one knows how to handle, just like a musician's worth isn't measured merely by how many songs he knows. It's the intention behind it --how much of ourselves we are willing to put into our efforts, as small as they can be, that makes them valuable. Moreover, it's the conductor's job to make the most out of every single instrument's strengths and weaknesses..."

A being of such wisdom and tender courage, and a form made to challenge the Sky itself, asked to ...carry paperwork? Was that the extent of the trust put in her? Certainly, the examples offered are indeed souls with sound and virtuous intentions, but the same, he knows for sure, can't be said of everyone beneath them.

A stiff hum collects and extinguishes his open displeasure, while sinuous fingers rake through his golden locks, in an attempt at composure. Yet his eyes do not leave the foul stack.

"...forgive me. I just hate witnessing talent being wasted. I'm both a Captain and an artist, after all."

Oh, Shinji definitely owed him more than one or two glasses of wine for this one.

Bony fingers skim through the year's schedule once again, as Rose tries to estimate the sheer magnitude of the mess he's been caught in. Sure, Shinji would be doing most of the work - by making a fool of himself among a bunch of highs choolers - and money was tight for a group of outcasts like the Visoreds, but what sort of comically unlucky star alignment had come into play for him to be assigned the one most neglected subject in the entire school program?

Admittedly, he had no idea the whole teacher gig could get that serious. Karakura High's admin board had practically hired him on the spot the moment he mentioned he was related to a native English academic. Maybe it was for the best, but something tells him his request to double as music teacher when needed will take some time to be reviewed...

Finally, a friendly voice breaks the cycle of stiff and tedious introductions that's been haunting him for the past few days. His back straightens to look back at Tania, uncaring of how less dignified than the rest of his colleagues he probably looks, with his white shirt unbuttoned down to his collarbones and his hair tie around his wrist rather than holding his hair.

"Ah, thank you. Much appreciated."

"Honestly refreshing to hear. Everyone's been nice and all, but frankly I'm not cut out for their formalities."

His hand reaches for the nurse's. One or two pleasant connections wouldn't hurt now, would they? At least he knows where to look next time Shinji's clownery gets him in trouble.

"Rose Ōtoribashi. Just Rose is fine. It will make things less awkward when I'll inevitably end up in your office after getting lost or something."

"Can do, Rose. A word of advise if you don't want to lose your mind while working here just go with the flow." She's forgone trying to warn new teachers about any of the strange irregularities at this school. "You'll save yourself some sanity and at the end of the day they're so desperate for a replacement you could probably get away with being a bit lax on your teaching or if you need extra time for grading papers." Her approach was far more casual than most of the professional staff and was clearly one of the more approachable staff members.

"And fair warning there are common class ditchers, so if you have a Kurosaki, Ishida, Inoue, or Yasutora in your class and they just up and run off, just leave it. I tried bringing it up before but it just gets waived off. I dunno what they've got goin' on but they're all generally good kids and do well in their classes so I've heard." She lets out a small sigh. It was the partial truth.

In the beginning she would often bring up their sudden absences or leaving their classes out of nowhere but no matter how many times they act as if something else entirely occurred. After seeing the kids fight monsters in the sky she learned it was best to let sleeping dogs lie before she gets bitten trying to call animal control.

"Right. Sounds about how I usually approach things."

As if.

All his familiarity with the job comes from what he had picked up from his father a good hundreds of years ago, thus not counting all the modern bureaucratic annoyances. More than going with the flow, he feels like he's just been thrown down a river - by Shinji - and his only options are either growing gills or drowning.

Thankfully, improvisation is one of his specialties, and so far it seems to be keeping him afloat, at least socially. It's suposed to last only until they're able to recruit that Kurosaki boy, after all.

Speaking of which, Rose surely wasn't expecting to run into his name so soon, and... into several others too. Still, on-sight investigation is Shinji's job, another luck of his, so direct contact with the target isn't contemplated. Small mercies.

"That's... rather specific. Does it happen that often? You say that as if it's not the first time you warn someone about it."

"Oh, well... I trust your judgment. As long as I don't have to chase them down..."

Logic would dictate Tania makes for the perfect candidate to extract valuable information from, yet, that's simply not how Rose works, especially with someone who has been benevolent enough to give him unprompted advice on how to survive that gigantic lair of kids. In truth, some guilt is already insinuating within him for pretending to be her colleague. His features remain unbothered a he curses this whole endeavor once again.

"Hey -- uh, I hate to be a bother, but mind if I come along? I wasn't joking about getting lost. The board might as well have given me a flyer with how rushed the introductory tour was."