The House of "Maybe"

Hand writing letters wasn’t a thing anyone did anymore -- surely nothing something Miyuki had been interested in since she was essentially born in the modern era. But she knew how to play her cards and certainly enjoyed trying new things. Besides, what kind of hopeless romantic (or perhaps “slut” was a better word) wouldn’t like a little courting here and there. Surely it would be strange enough to break up the monotony and grab his attention.

The “him” being the ever so loved Shinpei Minamoto. The thorn in the Minamoto family’s side and the troublemaker of the Seireitei. Sure he did his work here and there, but everyone knew where his priorities lied. It was one of the many reasons Miyuki hadn’t been too fond of the Fifth, but what could you do? After all, dear Shinpei would be critical in what was coming up.

So, she had put together a flashy letter, filled with all sorts of obnoxious and sarcastic lines about his persona and endeavors. A small attempt was made to keep her handwriting presentable, even going so far as for her to actually pay attention to each stroke. Lord knew this wouldn’t have worked if he couldn’t even read what she had to say.

Not that she thought he cared. Everything except the final line was just fluff -- eye catchers to ensure he didn’t just discard the message. Even her title as Captain couldn’t get any promises with this Minamoto.

So with the letter sent away, it was time to prepare. Hopefully he would show, but who knew? At the very least, she’d have a nice night alone and wouldn’t have to worry about straightening up tomorrow. With the day’s work behind her, she went about cleaning her house and setting it up to be as comfortable as possible for when he guest arrived. The lazy man probably wouldn’t show up until later -- she guessed around eight or nine -- but that didn’t stop her from having the house in new-like condition before seven even rolled around.

With a few more hours to herself, she simply read a book, taking notes in an empty book as she did. It was quite the fascinating read. All of it hand written and marked with various images that were hastily drawn by someone with very little talent. But the words? Though a bit scrawly and at times hard to read, it was downright intriguing.

Miyuki wasn’t sure when or how she had gotten the book, it had simply just appeared on her shelves at some point, but the leather bound journal had been her latest binge. The contents talked of a scientist -- Arrancar, Miyuki assumed -- delving into the worlds of Reiatsu and all of that fun jaz. It talked of experiments on nearly every race know to her and how their raw Reiatsu could mix together.

It was like a Frankenstein book, but with spiritual pressure,

Midway into her read, the sound of knocking perked her ears. Taking only a second to shelve the journal and her notes, she padded to the door with a stray glance to the clock.

He sure knew how to keep a woman waiting, didn’t he? She could only imagine what had been oh-so important that he decided to wait so long. Even still, she opened the door with a smile.

“That’s one way to put it,” she chuckled, friendly as ever as she stepped to the side and gestured him. A quick glance outside suggested no one was watching, but she couldn’t be sure. Oh well.

Once inside and comfortable, she lead him to the main room. Wall painted with earthy tones and darker accents, and only a single table in the middle to sit at, there wasn’t much to look at. Sure the window facing them had a nice view of a somewhat well maintained garden, but aside from that there were only bookshelves and paintings to admire. By most accounts, she had a rather stale house.

“Any preference on drinks?” She called back as she walked to the nearby kitchen.

After taking his request -- she was very well stocked in preparation of tonight -- she came back out, drinks in hand. A fruit mix drink was her idea of something light, but casual, though she hardly even took a dip before setting it back on the table. She needed a clear mind for this. Shinpei, on the other hand, needed to be treated as nicely as he wanted.

Tonight was all about him in many different ways.

“I know this is a bit of a sore subject, but I was just curious about your relationship with your brother, Shun,” she tried her best to hide a knowing smile, though the excitement was a bit too much at this point. He kept her waiting all day, damn it! “You know how rumors are. Mind clearing them up for me?”

[814. 16]

Slut? How rude. He'd always preferred "man-whore." It has a better ring to it.

"I thought so too. That's why I put it that way," he answered mildly. Shinpei walked past her and cast a casual eye around the place. Not much to see, honestly: he wasn't sure if Miyuki had just moved into this small, nondescript house or if she just hadn't bothered to do much with it. "Do much?" Maybe that was a little too kind. Besides the various books and the garden he could see outside, it was like she'd picked a particularly bland motel room to stay in.

You know, some people say that you can tell all sorts of things from the kind of interior decoration people do. Shinpei thought there was a little bit of merit to the idea now and then: in the apartment he'd rented in Karakura Town, maybe you could draw some conclusions from just what he'd done with the place. The large bar? He liked alcohol and making drinks for pretty women. The paintings? He valued beauty here and there (everywhere). The comfortable chairs and carpet? He liked lazing around. I don't think we ever got a shot of his bedroom but that had its own special features too.
What conclusions could you draw from Shinpei's house in the Seireitei, completely untouched in terms of decor for the last hundred years and more? Where the most notable wall hanging was a scroll with a beautifully calligraphied "Love" character on it?
Nothing, Shinpei would say.

Maybe you could draw some conclusions from Miyuki's place, too, but oddly enough Shinpei couldn't tell you much about that. He had no interest in theory: his success with women tended to be a product of unspoken experience and intuition. He got better over the years because he got better at "feeling out" what the best move was. But ask him "how" or "why"--good luck getting an intelligent answer.
One of the many ways he could have really been something if he didn't have such a one-track mind. If he could focus on more than one thing at a time. If things had turned out a little differently.
But we are what we are, right?

"Drinks?" He raised his eyebrows and grinned as he walked further into her living room, throwing himself onto a couch in a recognizably "Shinpei" manner. "You do know how to treat your late-night visitors right! I'll have what you're having. Something stiff."
It was always like this with Shinpei. He loved words that meant more than they seemed to on the surface. He loved a little bit of deception and a little bit of teasing. It was what made the dance--with the inevitable end on someone's bed, or counter, or floor--so much fun. Although he loved every part in its own way.

"Not bad," he complimented her when he finally got to try a sip. "What's in it?" He rolled the glass around lazily, hanging on her couch like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. He'd taken his shoes off at the door like any good pseudo-Japanese guest and seemed perfectly content to lay around like he owned the place, feet on her cushions and everything. He looked just about as comfortable as could be: head propped up on an arm, scratching his scalp lazily. "The last time I was courted by message was long before I came to the Seireitei. It's nice to see some traditions never die." He took another drink and set his glass down on the table, ice clinking in both their cups when she sat.

He grinned at her: "No need to be so excited just yet. We have all night to schmooze." She was practically bouncing in her seat. Maybe she was just a little bit sheltered, and having someone like him over was new to her? Thwarting authority? New and invigorating?

How annoying.

"We don't get along. You can't pick family. I've said some things, he's said some things, he's a sexless idiot, I get close to slicing him up and he throws me in jail sometimes." He itched the back of his neck, smile replaced by a bored-looking frown. "There's not much to the story."
Shinpei heaved himself up and patted his loose-hanging robes down. "Look, if you wanted to talk about my brother you should have him over. He loves to talk about himself. But nowhere near as fun in bed, I imagine."

He'd had enough of being the intermediary between starry-eyed girls and his brother. Probably for a whole lifetime. Most girls knew better, but clearly being a Captain didn't make you necessarily a genius.

"If that's all you were planning on talking about tonight, I have better things to do."

Ahahaahah, oh my fucking GOD you just broke the record time for fucking things up, Kanou was all but doubling over with laughter as Shinpei rose from his place on the couch. How could you possibly think that was a good idea? C’mon, Miyuki. You’re better than this.

Yeah, even she had to admit it was a bad call to just throw that out right then and there. This was her first time doing something like this, so maybe tack wasn’t her strong suit just yet. Oh well. It wasn’t something she could recover from -- especially not with a man like Shinpei. She had no doubt that all she had to do was flash him to grab his attention again.

The thought seriously crossed her mind for a moment before she hurried to move in front of him.

“I think you may have gotten the wrong idea,” Miyuki looked at him with a bit of an embarrassed stare. “I already rode that train -- and let me tell you, he’s about as boring in bed as he is in the office. If I was interested in that sort of stuff, I would have knocked on your door sooner.”

You really do suck at this rebound thing, you know that, right?

Shut up. I’m doing the best I can.

“Honestly, I was just using that as an ice breaker -- I’m not very good with small talk, as I’m sure you’re starting to learn. I did have something really important to talk with you about.”

She took a small step forward and looked up at him. With a small smile and a quick bat of her eyes, she put on a maybe-sexy-maybe-cute sort of look in hopes of melting that icy barrier he was so quick to put up.

“At least finish your drink. If you don’t like what I have to say by the time you finish your last sip, you can leave.” She paused to tilt her head and smile a bit more. “Please?”

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She didn't say something for a couple seconds: it was enough for him to make it most of the way to the sink to set his drink down and then high-tail it out of there. She ended up jumping in front of him and barring his way, and he honestly spent a couple moments considering just what would be the best way to leave her buried in a wall on the other side of her boring little house.
It ended up being a good thing that she didn't flash him after all. It's true that he had a one track mind: as a matter of fact, it was one of his most distinguishing features. He only ever could focus on one thing at once--he got stuck on one path and it was hard to get him off it. In this case, that meant that trying to essentially bribe him with sex would have backfired: he was very securely angry at the waste of his time and more than a little frustrated. Getting the hint that he was being manipulated? Not a pretty outcome.

As it happened, she stumbled upon one of the only things that would have snapped him out of that tunnel vision: humor.
...about as boring in bed as he is in the office.
Shinpei couldn't help it. He laughed. He leaned back against her counter-top and laughed, holding his stomach slightly as he set the glass down for safety on the counter. A few more chuckles burst out as he recovered, but finally he set himself rightways up again and regarded her with an easy smile. Gone was the icy distaste and the blank countenance. He was all charm once again--willing to give her another try. With a little sting she'd feel later.

"You should have asked me for some suggestions," he teased her. "There's the ever-popular 'how much does a polar bear weigh?' but I'm much more a fan of sayings like 'if I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?' and 'what do you call a fly without wings?'"
The answer is "a walk," incidentally. Or "Jason."

Shinpei leaned easily against the counter as she peered up at him, doing her best to look alluring. It was a trick he knew very, very well: the particular posture of a woman who had half-learned how to seduce a man. Some of the broad brush strokes were there: she came close and looked up at him, both choices that were absolutely endearing. Of course, that was the problem: there was significant overlap between "alluring" and "endearing," or sexy and cute, but the two ran into each other in a very unfortunate way most of the time. If she'd really wanted to push the issue, she should have either chosen one or the other. If her head had been a little more tilted down, if the eyes had been more slowly batted, if she'd squeezed her arms a little more inward...
But then, a good part of looking alluring was showing investment. If a woman tried hard to show her interest, that was sexy in its own way.

"Hmm... I don't know..." he pretended to consider her offer. "I'll tell you what. I'm here on pretense of this being some clandestine meetup, and so far we've hit everything by the letter. Late-night arrival, drinks, slightly risque talk. However..." he cast an eye up and down Miyuki and shook his head. "What you're wearing is all wrong. Shinigami robes are utilitarian, not sexy."

"Go slip into something more comfortable, less formal, and a bit more revealing. Like you really were entertaining me the way your letter pretended. Then I promise to hear you out."

It was fun enough to torment her for her tactlessness (and for possibly wasting his time), but there was a real reason to his challenge. If she backed down or did a subpar job it would be easy enough for him to waltz out her door and call it justified: some part of him hoped that did happen. He was sure whatever proposal she was planning to make, there were several pretty women back at his house who could make better ones.

His laugh earned a hopeful smile from the girl, though she wasn’t about to count her chickens before they hatched. Even if he was doubling over himself from the offhand joke, there was no stopping him from just waving her off and pushing past without another thought. At that point? She was screwed. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

She could take a loss, sure, but this was a big one. After all, who better to have on her side than the man right in front of her? Someone who could do the dirty work she wasn’t very keen on dealing with. It also helped that he was quite the charmer and honestly good company -- albeit a little bipolar when it came to talk of his family.

Thankfully, though, her worries were thrown away with the offer of her putting on a skimpy outfit for him to oogle at for the night. The thought, honestly, had never crossed her mind to wear something… Well… Appropriate, but then again, her taste in style was about as good in her taste as wall colors.

“Revealing? I think I can do that for you,” she answered with a knowing smirk.

All it took were a few words under her breath and a surprising burst of white light for her to “slip into something more comfortable.” Her Shikai, famous for the little outfit it forced on her, was one she often avoided. After all, why go with Shikai when you had Bankai? Seemed pointless, but she just wanted the outfit and to not leave him alone in her kitchen to do gods know what with her drinks.

The white dress hugged her body perfectly, cutting off around mid thighs on the front, a little higher up in the back thanks to the plumpness of her rump. Blue ribbons and lines along the otherwise plain dress made it pop out a bit more than expected -- though the only thing that literally looked like it was going to pop out were her breasts given the way they squeezed together so tightly and how low cut the dress itself was.

“Does this suit your fancy?” She quirked an eyebrow at him before giving a little twirl, arms out so he can get the full view of her body.

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Now, let me make it clear that it wasn't at all about the revealing clothing. You hit some number of women (50? 5 thousand?) that you've seen in and out of their clothes and you get a sense for how any woman is in and out of them. Really it was the fact that she willingly put them on and what that meant: it was like a coquettish little nudge that said "I'm interested, and wouldn't it be terrible if these clothes started to wear at the edges of your self control...?" Here it meant that Miyuki was willing to play the game, and that was exciting enough. It had been so tedious lately, dealing with lady Shinigami that were just so clueless.

Although it was about the revealing clothing, that's for sure. He always had loved the little tease of an outfit that left little to the imagination but kept the viewer wanting more. It always added a little spice to an already exciting game.

I guess it was both.

Shinpei oohed and aahed appreciatively as she changed. "I'd heard about the Third Captain's famous nursing outfit," he teased her, and gave an honest laugh as she spun for him. He took her joke and ran with it, circling her and nodding to himself as he pointed out details here and there. When he'd made a complete circuit or two he halted and nodded to himself. "Yes, yes. Very fitting."
He huffed out a breath and tugged at his own collar. "My, did it get hot in here or something?"

It was a cute little number, too. It was hard to keep his eyes from tracing along the curves of her body that the dress highlighted. Harder still to tear his eyes away from the way her chest was so invitingly pressed up against her top.
Hard things were so tedious. He let his eyes go where they wanted.

It was criminal that the outfit stayed on at all, in fact. He'd have to visit whomever was responsible for the Seireitei's gravity and have a few harsh words, maybe share a drink or two.

"It sure does," he answered her at last, picking up his half-finished drink and taking another sip from it. The alcohol was beginning to affect him, turning him even more relaxed than he was usually. It gave him a nice, steady burn inside his chest. It made him feel a little less frustrated at being in this kind of position.

Shinpei set his wiry arms on the counter and leaned on them, settling down for a long explanation. He thought he was getting a handle on Miyuki's personality, and had a feeling that she'd be talking for several minutes at least. What would the topic be about? Honestly, he had no idea. Not that he was really trying to divine her purpose. Sometimes being surprised was fun too.

"Now, I believe we had a deal. I promised to hear you out all the way, so please--" his eyes flashed and slid down her again, accompanied by a toothy grin-- "lay it on me."
Despite how he might have seemed, he was in the end a man of his word. At least by his own estimation: all his lies were obvious and all his promises were kept according to their letters. If he ever bent things one way or another... well, sometimes it was for the best.
At least that was how he thought.

Miyuki couldn’t help but let her grin flourish as he stalked around her. With his eyes roaming about her body, and that decidedly interested glimmer in his eyes, it was hard to not get a throbbing ego boner. But once the show was done and he settled himself against the counter, she, too, relaxed up a bit. After all, things were finally getting on the right track. She couldn’t help but look a little smug as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed under her breasts.

Quietly eyeing him, she took a sip of her hardly touched drink. Alcohol, while nice, wasn’t her favorite. As justified by the fact that all of her selection was either completely sealed, or had only barely been touched. Half of the stuff looked like it had been bought specifically for this occasion, though she’d never admit it.

“So, I’ll just cut to the chase since my first attempt went so poorly,” she began after clearing her throat. “I want Shun gone. I don’t care how and I don’t care about the specifics, I just don’t want him ever stepping foot in the Seireitei again. More importantly, I don’t want him putting on that Captain Commander uniform.”

She paused only long enough to catch a flare of interest hit the corner of Shinpei’s eyes. At the very least, he was listening -- at least, that was what she assumed.

“I figured you were the perfect place to start in regards to getting some leads on how to handle the situation, given your very public history with him.”

It was openly obvious she was holding her cards close to her chest. She wouldn’t be so easily swayed about handing out the why’s and the when’s, though how hard could it be to force her to drop the cards by ‘accident’ was the real question. The arrogant smirk in her tone suggested perhaps not too hard, especially since she hadn’t been so subtle about her own glances at the man before her. Though that sort of information would be far harder to get out of her.

She was committed to Sekai, though she understood the greater purpose. It certainly would be just a tragedy if her dress happened to fall off, but she would have to go on and beg Sekai’s forgiveness.

“Is that worthy of your time?” She cooed over the edge of her glass before taking another sip. “Or have I thoroughly lost your interest?”

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