Ribbon for Retsu

Unohana Retsu felt her brow crinkle with bemusement as she met her patient’s saddened gaze.  The student was one of her more frequent visitors, but never before had she seen him look so down-hearted.  Even when his illness was at its worse, Ukitake Jyuushirou, through his fatigued body and pain, always managed to greet her with one of his disarming smiles.  When he smiled, his whole face seemed to light up beneath his unruly mop of white hair.  It was something Unohana had found herself looking forward to seeing as she tended the boy—No, young man, Unohana thought decidedly, eyeing the other’s wizened features—but this morning was different.  This morning, Jyuushirou looked uncharacteristically sad, and for reasons she could not explained, it troubled her to see him so despondent.
“You don’t seem very happy to see me today, Ukitake-san,” Unohana remarked gently. “You haven’t decided to fear me like your friend, Kyouraku-san, does, have you?”
At the mention of Shunsui, Jyuushirou’s lips twitched with amusement.  “Shunsui is rather wary of you, isn’t he?” Jyuushirou asked lightly. “Strange—he’s never told me why.  But no, Unohana-senpai, I’m not upset because you’re here.  On the contrary, I was just wondering how I could ever thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me this year.”  He shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t enjoy being sick, but I can’t help the way I am.  It’s just…” he frowned, his hazel eyes darkening. “I wish there was something I could do to repay you.”
Unohana placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “Is that why you don’t seem like yourself today?  Ukitake-san, I’m here to help all the students at this academy—You don’t need to repay me.  I’m simply doing my job.”
“But I’ve been here ten times, and it’s not even the end of my first year!” the young man told her stubbornly. “I can imagine the strain my being here has put on your staff….” He sighed wearily. “If my family was had more resources, like the Kuchiki Clan, then maybe I could repay you, but as it is—“
“Your parents have seven other children to worry about besides yourself,” Unohana finished with an understanding smile. “Regardless, I don’t want payment, and I don’t want you to worry about how often you come here.  It’s as you said—you can’t help the way you are.  In fact,” she winked at him, and his pale cheeks turned a lovely shade of rose under her soft gaze, “if you promise me that you won’t ever come here again looking so depressed, then we’ll call it even.  That smile of yours is something special.  Now, I want to see it at least once before I leave.”
Jyuushirou stared at her for a long moment.  At last, as his unease began to dwindle, his expression perked into a childish grin that spread from ear to ear.  “Arigatou, Unohana-senpai,” he said through laughing eyes.  
Unohana eyed him approvingly. “Much better.  No more of this ‘repayment’ nonsense, understand?  Now, I’ve already checked your pulse.  You seem to be on the mend.  Tomorrow, you may resume your classes, if you feel up to it.”
Unohana had thought Jyuushirou’s smile couldn’t get any bigger.  She had been wrong.  A bookworm to the core, Jyuushirou’s eyes lit up at the possibility of resuming his studies.  “Thank you very much, Senpai!”
Quite won over by his enthusiasm, Unohana returned his smile.
The next morning, Unohana entered Jyuushirou’s room, only to find that her patient had already left.  Though she was relieved that he had recovered so quickly, part of her lamented his absence.  Silly me, getting worked up over a student, she chided herself.  But deep down, Unohana realized that she had stopped thinking of Jyuushirou as a mere student long ago.  After all, the young man wasn’t all that younger than herself, and his condition had matured him far beyond his years.  There were times when she even felt as though she looked up to him.  His perseverance was admirable, and he had a charming knack for making misfits like Shunsui and even that Kuchiki brat feel wanted.   
Oh dear.  Unohana sat down on the vacant bed, wishing all the more that her smiling patient was there to greet her.  She sighed unhappily.  What are you going to do with yourself, Retsu?  If you aren’t careful, you’re going to give your heart away…
Something glimmering caught her eye.  Turning, she saw that a pink ribbon lay on Jyuushirou’s pillow.  The ribbon was tied in a little bow around a dandelion.  Unohana’s expression brightened.  Tentatively, she reached for the gift—a poor man’s gift, but a gift nonetheless—and held it close to her.  Then, untying the bow, she took the ribbon and wound it around the long braid that fell to the small of her back.
Oh no, this won’t do, Unohana realized.  Without a moment’s hesitation, she undid her braid and reconfigured her hair in front of her torso.  Finally, she added the ribbon to the braid and nodded with satisfaction.  Well, this certainly looks unusual, but that doesn’t really matter.  At least he can see it for himself…
Later that day, Unohana crossed Jyuushirou’s path while walking across the academy grounds.  No words were said, no gestures made, but Jyuushirou simply looked to the ribbon that she wore proudly before her and grinned.  Two months later, when he was forced to return to the infirmary for another treatment, he soon left as quietly as he had before, and on his pillow he left a blue strand of satin.  
And so the exchange went…
And continues to this day.