Fiction [Ichigo, Rukia]
Title: Fiction
Author: Overtoned
Rating: G
Words: 1000
Pairing/Characters: Ichigo, Rukia
Warning: Severe idiocy. And Harry Potter. No spoilers of any sort.
Author's Notes: This is written for Kattala, who found the Star Wars reference in August, and requested Ichigo explaining Harry Potter to Rukia. In honor of HP book 7's release today, here it is. Thanks cccpirate for the beta.
Ichigo believed in ghosts.
He believed that the so-called Grim Reaper came in the form of sword-wielding spirits that wore black, traditional, Japanese uniforms. Ichigo even believed in big monsters with white masks and gaping holes that ate people.
What Ichigo did not believe in were wizards, and witches for that matter. He only wished he could convince Rukia of this as well.
"But why not?" she had stubbornly insisted when he had tried to correct her. "How can you not believe in a magical institution in England when you believe in a feudally Japanese afterlife?"
Ichigo had to really think about that one, because she was right, they were equally insane (or, in her opinion, sane) concepts that would land most people in the ward for the mentally unstable in Ishida's hospital.
He finally found his answer.
"Because," he explained, "we've seen this feudal Japan afterlife. We've been there. And you exist."
Unfortunately, his mind added.
She gave him a look that plainly declared his reasoning as shit. "Look at this," she ordered, pointing to a line in the book and yanking his face down to the page by his collar, "petrificus totalis. That's the kidou binding spell in English."
"No, it's not, you idiot," he struggled up, rubbing the back of his neck. He wanted to support his argument, he really did. Except what she said actually made sense, even if it was completely stupid.
She crossed her arms, crossed her legs, and sat watching him with a condescending frown. It was one of those scrutinizing glares that mothers gave when their children whined for candy.
I can't believe this doesn't make sense to you, it said.
Actually, Ichigo thought, the worst part was that it did make sense. It just wasn't supposed to.
Ichigo did a cursory glance around the room, looking for something, anything that could provide him with a possible means of escape, or unconsciousness; that was fine, too.
"Rukia," he slowly managed, that clothing iron was looking awfully tempting. "Hogwarts is not an underground British Shinigami Institution. It's not even real."
She sighed rather dramatically in exasperation. Idiot, he could almost hear her think. Idiot, idiot, /idiot/.
"Look!" she snapped. "They carry stick things! I bet that turns into a sabre when it's in its released form."
"Wands," he scowled as he muttered darkly. This discussion was going nowhere. "And they don't have shikai or bankai or whatever the hell comes after that."
"Aha!" she jumped up, pointing the book accusingly at his nose and completely missing the point. "So you admit that they exist!"
He gaped at her in wonder, because by the triumphant expression on her face, she was one hundred percent serious.
--
He walked into his room with a cup of water that night and found her staring into the glass of the window. From her reflection, he could see that her face was serious and slightly contorted in deep thought.
"What's going on?" he asked, sitting down on his bed and leaning back into the pillows. He took a drink.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I have reasons to believe that Ichimaru Gin is really Lord Voldemort."
Ichigo choked on his water.
When he recovered, which involved running out into the bathroom for a towel to clean up all of the mess he had made and changing a shirt- thanks to her, he was going to have to sleep on damp sheets later that night- he mentally declared her a lost cause.
"No," he replied when he finally walked back into the room and sat back down. "He can't be. Ichimaru Gin has a nose."
She glanced at him with a smug smile because she had finally gotten him to see things her way, and nodded. "I suppose you're right," she conceded, and then as an afterthought, "but I bet they're related."
"Sure," he agreed, hiding his grimace as he looked away. "Cousins. Definitely cousins."
He figured that it was probably easier to join the insanity than to fight it.
--
The next afternoon, he walked into the house and found her with a mop in her hands.
"Are you… cleaning?" He found this to be incredible: the "noble and talented Kuchiki Rukia" was mopping the floor.
She narrowed her eyes curiously at him, as if he was quite out of his mind to assume so; then she looked away for several seconds, deciding to write his foolish inquiry off as a naturally occurring phenomenon of stupidity.
"Can mops fly, too, Ichigo?"
Her question came as a complete surprise, and had nothing to do with what he had asked, although he realized now that he probably should have expected it.
He hadn't even read the damn books. It was all Karin and Yuzu (sometimes Isshin) and tidbits of dinnertime conversations that he had overheard at the kitchen table; yet for some obscure reason, he was now the encyclopedia of all things wizardly.
He put down his school bag, pulled in a chair, took a deep breath, and sat down. This was definitely going take years off of his already shortened life. He looked down and shook his head in what he hoped to be an expression of sympathetic sadness. "Sorry, Rukia. But only brooms fly."
She thought about this seriously, chewing her upper lip with a pensive frown. "I guess that makes sense."
"And you don't need to fly," he added, hoping to nudge a little bit of common sense into her.
She took a longer time mulling over this. Finally, she nodded, hammering a fist decisively into the center of her palm as she straightened up.
"You're right!" she announced confidently. "Brooms are for weaker beings that cannot use shunpo."
Their conversation, to his great surprise, ended without any bickering or outbreaks of violence. Yet for some reason, later that evening, he found himself being dragged out of the house anyway to buy a broomstick.
It was going to be hell teaching her how to fly.
end.
Good god I can't believe I just wrote that. Kattala, I hope you're happy. :x
Author: Overtoned
Rating: G
Words: 1000
Pairing/Characters: Ichigo, Rukia
Warning: Severe idiocy. And Harry Potter. No spoilers of any sort.
Author's Notes: This is written for Kattala, who found the Star Wars reference in August, and requested Ichigo explaining Harry Potter to Rukia. In honor of HP book 7's release today, here it is. Thanks cccpirate for the beta.
Ichigo believed in ghosts.
He believed that the so-called Grim Reaper came in the form of sword-wielding spirits that wore black, traditional, Japanese uniforms. Ichigo even believed in big monsters with white masks and gaping holes that ate people.
What Ichigo did not believe in were wizards, and witches for that matter. He only wished he could convince Rukia of this as well.
"But why not?" she had stubbornly insisted when he had tried to correct her. "How can you not believe in a magical institution in England when you believe in a feudally Japanese afterlife?"
Ichigo had to really think about that one, because she was right, they were equally insane (or, in her opinion, sane) concepts that would land most people in the ward for the mentally unstable in Ishida's hospital.
He finally found his answer.
"Because," he explained, "we've seen this feudal Japan afterlife. We've been there. And you exist."
Unfortunately, his mind added.
She gave him a look that plainly declared his reasoning as shit. "Look at this," she ordered, pointing to a line in the book and yanking his face down to the page by his collar, "petrificus totalis. That's the kidou binding spell in English."
"No, it's not, you idiot," he struggled up, rubbing the back of his neck. He wanted to support his argument, he really did. Except what she said actually made sense, even if it was completely stupid.
She crossed her arms, crossed her legs, and sat watching him with a condescending frown. It was one of those scrutinizing glares that mothers gave when their children whined for candy.
I can't believe this doesn't make sense to you, it said.
Actually, Ichigo thought, the worst part was that it did make sense. It just wasn't supposed to.
Ichigo did a cursory glance around the room, looking for something, anything that could provide him with a possible means of escape, or unconsciousness; that was fine, too.
"Rukia," he slowly managed, that clothing iron was looking awfully tempting. "Hogwarts is not an underground British Shinigami Institution. It's not even real."
She sighed rather dramatically in exasperation. Idiot, he could almost hear her think. Idiot, idiot, /idiot/.
"Look!" she snapped. "They carry stick things! I bet that turns into a sabre when it's in its released form."
"Wands," he scowled as he muttered darkly. This discussion was going nowhere. "And they don't have shikai or bankai or whatever the hell comes after that."
"Aha!" she jumped up, pointing the book accusingly at his nose and completely missing the point. "So you admit that they exist!"
He gaped at her in wonder, because by the triumphant expression on her face, she was one hundred percent serious.
--
He walked into his room with a cup of water that night and found her staring into the glass of the window. From her reflection, he could see that her face was serious and slightly contorted in deep thought.
"What's going on?" he asked, sitting down on his bed and leaning back into the pillows. He took a drink.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I have reasons to believe that Ichimaru Gin is really Lord Voldemort."
Ichigo choked on his water.
When he recovered, which involved running out into the bathroom for a towel to clean up all of the mess he had made and changing a shirt- thanks to her, he was going to have to sleep on damp sheets later that night- he mentally declared her a lost cause.
"No," he replied when he finally walked back into the room and sat back down. "He can't be. Ichimaru Gin has a nose."
She glanced at him with a smug smile because she had finally gotten him to see things her way, and nodded. "I suppose you're right," she conceded, and then as an afterthought, "but I bet they're related."
"Sure," he agreed, hiding his grimace as he looked away. "Cousins. Definitely cousins."
He figured that it was probably easier to join the insanity than to fight it.
--
The next afternoon, he walked into the house and found her with a mop in her hands.
"Are you… cleaning?" He found this to be incredible: the "noble and talented Kuchiki Rukia" was mopping the floor.
She narrowed her eyes curiously at him, as if he was quite out of his mind to assume so; then she looked away for several seconds, deciding to write his foolish inquiry off as a naturally occurring phenomenon of stupidity.
"Can mops fly, too, Ichigo?"
Her question came as a complete surprise, and had nothing to do with what he had asked, although he realized now that he probably should have expected it.
He hadn't even read the damn books. It was all Karin and Yuzu (sometimes Isshin) and tidbits of dinnertime conversations that he had overheard at the kitchen table; yet for some obscure reason, he was now the encyclopedia of all things wizardly.
He put down his school bag, pulled in a chair, took a deep breath, and sat down. This was definitely going take years off of his already shortened life. He looked down and shook his head in what he hoped to be an expression of sympathetic sadness. "Sorry, Rukia. But only brooms fly."
She thought about this seriously, chewing her upper lip with a pensive frown. "I guess that makes sense."
"And you don't need to fly," he added, hoping to nudge a little bit of common sense into her.
She took a longer time mulling over this. Finally, she nodded, hammering a fist decisively into the center of her palm as she straightened up.
"You're right!" she announced confidently. "Brooms are for weaker beings that cannot use shunpo."
Their conversation, to his great surprise, ended without any bickering or outbreaks of violence. Yet for some reason, later that evening, he found himself being dragged out of the house anyway to buy a broomstick.
It was going to be hell teaching her how to fly.
end.
Good god I can't believe I just wrote that. Kattala, I hope you're happy. :x