Bleach Hereafter RPG

It wasn't supposed to be her day. She had picked this day off to clear her head, to focus on other things, to try to maintain the professionalism she had promised.

She was suprised that she was even still allowed, even encouraged, to continue to oversee the recovery of the "Subject", as Yael had been somewhat blandly dubbed.  She was surprised they hadn't taken him for deeper interrogation, but apparently the working assumption of the higher ups was that Yael was somewhat sort of "native" Quincy, freshly inheriting his powers and naïve about their source. A situation she worked to encourage, though she wished she had not come to learn of his Schwarzwald past. 

Either way, his recovery was proceeding as expected, with the Sanitazstaffel Doctors marking their charts and nodding solemnly. What would happen once Yael was deemed fully recovered was anyone's guess. Would they expect him to join one of the Brigades? Undergo training? She had dreaded seeing him interrogated, but this limbo status of his was even worse.

Despite her resolution, anxiety and doubt gnawed at her. She wanted to help him, though she knew it was wrong. 

Put such trifling concerns to rest. She insisted to herself vigorously. But though she maintained as professional a demeanour as possible, she still found herself watching him, a deep well of hidden emotions behind cold eyes.

Even though she had known it was an excuse, even though she knew she should stay well enough alone, she still found herself at the pool that day, in her sheer full-length bathing suit, her white hair tucked up neatly in a cap as she pretended to focus on keeping fit herself, swimming full lengths in the cold blue water.

But even being there at all, today, was indulging in a temptation she should not feel.

Trying to appear focused and emotionless as usual, she noted that he had entered the pool before her.  Long, tranquil ripples disturbed the calm of the water, as a sleek, pale, glistening blonde man glided effortlessly within.

He had made incredible progress, physically, at least. Yet his mind still seemed...terribly vulnerable, at times. His eyes looked like they might crack into tears at any time, sometimes. Other times, they were mirrors of coldness to match her own. She shivered at the thought.

Not trusting herself to speak or act rationally, she defaulted once again to a clockwise routine. One that in this context could not be mistaken for coincidence or regular routine. It was unavoidable. The moment he saw her here, today, she would have few excuses to hide behind.

Her pride compelled her to try anyway.

With fierce and mechanical precision, she breast-stroked down her lane, quickly catching up to him and overtaking him, before she turned, sleek with water and sweat from the effort, her eyes pretending to take notice of him for the first time.

"I see you are making good progress." She began lamely.

"Have you been talking to your Counsellor at all? You must try to heal yourself fully, and I can- I am only to tend to your physical recovery."

An evasive statement, a change of subject, and all very cool and professional.  She felt as if her facade was transparent, but Yael seemed mercifully unable to see beyond the cold mirrors. She wondered if she could see beyond his.

Viktor Yakov ad Rosenfeld