One in a Million [Shinpei/Thalia]

The world was as boring as you make it.
That was Shinpei's view: he thought that, the world being so large and all, it was kind of silly to say things like "all men only think about sex," or "work is so dull" or "I'll never find my soulmate." The truth of the matter was that the Earth (not to mention the spiritual realms) was on such a fantastically giant scale... well, if you looked for something you were bound to find it eventually.
That's a nice way of summing up his life, actually. Only problem was you weren't guaranteed to find what you were looking for now, or even ten years or a million from now. Lady luck isn't always kind.

That's all to say that he figured the way people looked at the world reflected more on them than it did the people in it. If someone says "all men think about sex," it was a sure sign she tended to surround herself with those sorts of people. "Work is so dull?" Only because the work you do is what you consider boring. "I'll never find my soulmate?" Well, there's one out there for everyone. Or many. Shinpei thought that people often worried too much about finding The One, especially when there was so much love just waiting around the next corner. If there's no one you want to share your whole life with, share pieces with different people. Simple as that.

You'll have to forgive my rambling. This is all to say that Shinpei knew what kind of world he liked, and so he sought it out. He liked big, bouncing lights, flashing signs and neon breasts. So that was where he went.
Wait, let me try that again. Big, bouncing signs, flashing breasts and neon lights.
Well, something to that effect. And the best place to find lights and neon? Downtown Karakura. It wasn't much of a nightlife compared to, say, Tokyo or any other big metropolitan cities, but for a mid-sized place like Karakura it was absolutely, positively Just Fine.

Shinpei stood out wherever he went, and that was mostly because of his clothing. Where most of Japan fully embraced their Western-influenced fashion,Shinpei was perfectly willing to wear a kimono here and there, when appropriate. I'll let you in on a secret: he could have cared less about the history behind the robes or what they meant today--he just liked the way they felt. And the flowery, silken ones he wore felt like a dream. How could anyone be unhappy when you were walking in a constant caress? That was the way he felt about it. Had felt that way for a long time. Now, it was half habit, half comfortable and half what he was used to.
Three halves. I never claimed Shinpei was terribly good at mathematics.

He wasn't looking at the girl when she grabbed him, but it was a pleasant turn to the night. As a rule, he desired novelty and surprise above pretty much anything else. It was why he was here in a Gigai, not in his spiritual body: besides the fact that the latter would make him harder to find, the former allowed him to get into all sorts of trouble. Although honestly, it wasn't like he was trying to hide: he hadn't been for a very long time, and in fact he'd never been particularly good at hiding anyway. These days his Spiritual Pressure just poured out like a broken faucet. It made people turn and look, every now and then. It made the spiritually capable take notice. It made him have some interesting visitors. One or two had led to very pleasurable conclusions.

"Hey," he answered her easily, skin (spirit?) tingling from the odd feeling of having his spiritual body tugged, not his Gigai. It was easy for him to forget he was a detachable spirit, not a normal Human like all the rest. "Come here often?"
Maybe he looked pretty odd, talking to no one in the middle of the sidewalk.
Shinpei shrugged her combative tone away, choosing to interpret it as a simple, flirty question. "I'm taking a pleasant nighttime walk. How about you join me? One's fun, but two is a party. At least with me it is."
A trademark grin. A slight raise of his eyebrows, and a glance that took every bit of her in for assessment. He clasped the hand that was tugging his sleeve and pulled it along on the same path he was taking.

"How about you? What are you doing here without anything at all to wear? I hear skin is in Vogue these days."

A tingle at the base of her spine worked its way up to tip top of her head before shooting back down to her stomach and leaving her unable to react for a minute. It wasn't fear or nerves that caused the woman to stand dumbfounded before the man's wandering eyes. She was so used to dealing with lecherous pigs like him she had almost built up an immunity to it. And yet there was something about the way he grabbed her hand that elicited the kind of reaction she reserved for a select few, her stomach twisting more than the crowds as though confirming her suspicions as to this man's true nature. It was one thing for a shinigami on patrol to pull the sleeve of some strange spirit in her jurisdiction, but it was another issue entirely for this swine to grab her bare hand and then drag her off with what had to be one of the top worst pickup lines she'd ever been subjected to.

”Let go of my hand or lose yours.”

It didn't take a lot of effort to piss her off, but something about that last line pulled her right out of the territory of an every day bitch and into the of a wild boar, her free hand clenched in a fist as she summoned every last fiber of her willpower to keep her from decking the man right then and there. To suggest that she was the one acting inappropriately while he was skulking around in a gigai in her territory was so ridiculous it added a whole new dimension to the arrogance of this piece of shit.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Thalia snapped back her hand and grabbed hold of her pipe, ignoring Sumire's annoying giggle. Even when it wasn't a weapon a shinigami's first instinct was to reach for their zanpakutou. “And if you touch me again I'll make you regret it.”
  
WC: 329; GP: 6; TGP: 14    

It was easy to see just how firmly he'd shocked her: from the looks of the girl he'd grabbed, this was not a situation she was used to being forced into. Shinpei couldn't deny he loved inversions, partly for how fun they were to do and partly for their effects: can you imagine how much it would stick out in a pure girl's mind if she was forced to think of something unavoidably dirty? If a tomboy was made to wear a long and flowing dress? If a woman used to loose and free sex was confronted with commitment?
And in this case, if a headstrong and forceful woman was made to take, not to give? He didn't doubt that he was one of the first to ever act this way towards her--it was hardly surprising she was so perplexed.

Wasn't that fun?

He relinquished the hand with ease, neither snatching his away nor lingering. He'd had his fun. "Touchy!" He exclaimed, that grin never leaving his face for one second. He didn't take the threat terribly seriously: she seemed weaker than he, but even if she hadn't been he had spent a great deal of his life dodging the consequences of much worse than what he'd put her through. He was confident in his ability to duck, weave and dodge around any potential retribution.

She was almost trembling there, fist clenched, fury in her eyes. Can you blame him if he thought she was awfully beautiful in that moment? Scars carved on her face, blonde hair up despite a few strands' insistence on pulling free from the bind, and a muscular build.
Permit me, if you will, to wax poetic about stockings for a moment. I'm sure Shinpei would approve: Beauty, thy name is the stocking. The most alluring of just-hidden, just-visible. A slight shift over smooth, and the incredible joy of a little rip and a tear!
Shinpei certainly didn't mess around when it came to what he thought was beautiful, or sexy, or compelling. He was a man who lived fully on one direct line: he had a one-track mind. It was nearly impossible to divert him. He gave his all to the moment he lived in.

There's a cruel irony somewhere in there, but I'm neglecting to point it out yet. As usual.

"My name's Shinpei," he announced, and bowed low. His eyes never left her. "Don't you know it's worse to regret what might have been? I'm sure any pain you could visit on me wouldn't be worse than that." That knowing smirk: the hallmark of a man who lives freely, easily and without apology. That was the kind of man he was, or the kind he acted like. Sometimes it's hard to separate the two.

"And who are you? I'm sure I'd have remembered a girl like you if I'd seen you around these parts" (possible, but not a given). "But I can't for the life of me say I have." His eyes had picked out the inscription on her pipe the second she'd tugged her hand to it--a gesture that Shinpei interpreted as a sudden, guilty concealment. "Is that 'bitch' in the English sense or the Japanese? Of course, I'm a fan of both."

But I bet you can guess which he preferred.

“You know what makes this bitch regret running into a bitch like you?” She gestured to herself with the pipe, grinding her teeth just long enough to take a quick breath. “And I hope to god you know I'm using the English definitions.”

One breath. Two breaths. She tried her best to calm down but it didn't seem to work. Every square inch of that gaudy silk kimono made her livid. Every word out that slipped out of his mouth made her seethe. He had almost won points not showing off his family name, but under the circumstances that didn't rule out the likelihood he was just some precious and caudled noble in hiding. And given his lithe frame and affected gestures she had a feeling he was exactly the kind of person she'd take a particular pleasure in forcefully ejecting from one of her establishments. Of course, the fact fate deemed it proper to give the pompous ass a real sword for a zanpaktou didn't help keep her from wanting to smash in his face.

“The fact I got a bitch as lame as her and someone who spends their nights on the town like you is given a real weapon like that.” She gestured to the man's zanpaktou and let loose another sigh, the venting helping a bit with her temper. “And that time I meant the Japanese definition.” She hoped Sumire could hear her, but she knew the bitch wouldn't give her the satisfaction of acknowledging the insult. Oh. I guess all three definitions applied to the pipe itself.

“My name is Thalia Kastel. And I'm glad to say this is my first and only time having to visit your little playground.” A pain worse than regret? Get real. She wondered just how much she'd regret leaving this man still able to speak. The fact he wore the same kind of flowery shit as Sumire would make the act all the more satisfying. The thought alone was enough to calm her down, a tiny smile on her face as she imagined her spirit screaming at her to act more dignified.

“So tell me, Shinpei,” Her brow relaxed as she rummaged through her sleeve, pulling out a small bit of tobacco from the snuffbox in her kimono. She began stuffing her pipe as she tried to best to regain her composure and take control of the conversation. “Which of our captains regrets ever letting a ...thing like you join their division?” Or she'd just continue her insults, unable to even acknowledge something as feminine as him was even a man. That worked too.

Of course it'd work a lot better if she had remembered a lighter.

WC: 451; GP: 9; TGP: 23