Fanfiction : Bleach - Rewrite Our History Together | By The Roadside
Title: Rewrite Our History Together | By The Roadside.
Type: Fanfiction : Bleach.
Prompt: For yakunitatanai ; (1) Sticky-sweet (2) Genuine smiles (3) Comfort/recuperation. Just (1) and (3) in this part. D:
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, in any form or way. Kubo Tite owns them, and my secret dream is to marry him.
Rating: Um. PG15, I think?
Word Count: NADA.
Summary: Um. ShuuKira. In two short fanfics? *dies*
Author's Note: The first part of two for shuukira's Christmas Exchange. I had the idea of using one seasons per prompt and I managed to finish two of them before I fall sick. My deepest apology for posting this late since I haven't been feeling well enough to stare at my laptop. And the second part shall be done, sooner or later! yakunitatanai, I hope you enjoy this! ♥ Merry Christmas, fellow ShuuKira-ans!
rewrite our history together
summer; post-betrayal; comfort/recuperation
He finds Kira on one of the cliffs overlooking Rukongai at the end of summer, lithe body hunched over dusty ground and eyes fixed at something at Hisagi cannot see. He stands a little further behind, still as a statue and silent as a shadow, continues to observe the silhouette of his fellow vice captain against the dying sun and the way Kira’s light golden hair laps over the dark of his shinigami uniform. Chatters and screams from the settlements below get louder as the darkness settles in, and Hisagi wonders how long Kira has been sitting there.
How long Kira plans to continue sitting there, waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.
“Hisagi-san?”
Hisagi holds up a hand in greeting; pretends he hasn’t been looking, pretends he doesn’t see the melancholy in green eyes. “I was searching for you. Abarai told me you’d be here.”
“Ah, I’m sorry!” Kira quickly rises on his feet, only to stagger back with what Hisagi expects to be muscle cramp, from staying in one position for too long. Kira regains his footing in an instant, mouth curves into a smile that echoes embarrassment and self-deprecation. “Can I help you with anything?”
Hisagi moves forward until he is standing besides the other shinigami, looking out at pinpricks of light from clusters of dilapidated buildings. He feels Kira shifts next to him and slants a look at the blonde. “I heard they’ve appointed a new captain for your division.”
There is a question in the statement, and those eyes widen for a fraction of a second before Kira nods slowly, averts his attention back to the far horizon, to that something only he can see. Hisagi doesn’t look away, studies the pale face, all sharp angles and misplaced softness, and thinks that despair shouldn’t look as beautiful as it does on Kira. Thin lips part and Kira’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I was told that the quickest way to erase a man’s presence is to replace it with another.”
He says nothing, because it is not his words that Kira needs.
Not this time.
This moment of silence is something he’s unaccustomed to when being with Kira, and it makes him itch.
He’s used to the ruckus Matsumoto and Kira caused whenever they go drinking together, cursing and yelling at the now-absent Ichimaru as if the traitor is still there to take the brunt of their drunken accusations. Words loud enough to mask the pain in their hearts and he sometimes wishes that he has their self-abandon to indulge in such activity. Instead, he seeks refuge in a front of a grave of someone he doesn’t know, with a captain that is not his and silence as heavy as their unspoken questions. Hisagi thinks that, in retrospect, his way of coping isn’t really any better than Kira’s.
More often than not, once he returns to the sprawling compound of the divisions and if Renji isn’t around, Matsumoto will dump Kira’s limp body into his arms, before ambling back to her division in a more sober state than what should be possible after a night of straight drinking. Kira’s quarter is no different than his and Hisagi doesn’t find it to be a chore to roll open the futon and lay Kira down on it. The trouble starts only when Kira clings to him and calls him ‘taichou’ and asks him to stay ‘just for a little while more please?’
And Hisagi closes the door to soft pleas and murmured convictions, only to sit outside until he’s sure that Kira has fallen asleep. He does this every time, every night.
Renji makes it a habit to drop by once in a while and discuss future plans that involve, among others, Bankai-ing the living shit out of a certain Ichimaru Gin.
He’s drifting off and why does he remember all this?
“I better head back now. The office needs cleaning before Madarame-san’s arrival tomorrow.” An apologetic smile, a step back. The distance between them widens. “I’ll see you later, Hisagi-san.”
Hisagi snaps out of his brief reverie and narrows his eyes at the sorrow that seems to be permanently etched into the paleness of Kira’s face, even as the other shinigami turns around and starts toward Seireitei. He finds himself striding forward, reaching out and grabbing Kira’s elbow to stop him from walking out on him. From disappearing again, into that empty shell dictated by discipline and responsibility, tortured by doubts and uncertainties.
He understands. He wants, needs Kira to know that.
He understands.
Green eyes stares questioningly - surprised, apprehensive - at him, strands of golden falling over that pale face and Hisagi tightens his grip. “I’m here if you need me.”
“What are you-”
“I know what it feels like,” Hisagi continues, keeps his eyes locked on Kira’s. “It’s not just you.”
You’re not alone..
Silence settles over them for something like eternity to Hisagi and he thinks that maybe Kira is bruising. Not only from where he is gripping so hard, too hard but inside. Where nobody, including him, can reach into and heal because Kira is locked, sealed and chained by pain and betrayal. By laughing eyes and smiling lips. When the silence becomes too overbearing and he almost manages to convince himself that maybe he has said the wrong thing, taken the wrong approach, Hisagi loosens his grip. Apology is at the tip of his tongue when Kira places a hand above his, a wry smile on his lips.
“Hisagi-san… thank you.”
Hisagi can see a flash of fire in Kira’s green eyes, something reminiscent of a much younger Kira Izuru from the Academy and he finally relaxes. Allows those bony fingers to pry his hand away and returns Kira’s smile.
Everything will be alright. They will be alright.
Hisagi damned sure will make that happen, no matter what, just to keep that smile on Kira’s face.
END
by the roadside
spring; AU; sticky-sweet
“Ne, ne, ne~ Shuu-chan! Let’s get that!”
Hisagi sighs as he is physically dragged by his pink-haired, sort-of niece towards ‘that’, a tackily-decorated, brightly-painted café advertising ‘the best sundae in town’ in neon print over an oversized replica of a sundae. Plastic tables and chairs are placed underneath colourful umbrellas out on the sidewalk, sheltering patrons from spring’s sunlight as they enjoy their icy treats. Waiters and waitresses in overalls weave in between tables, delivering orders with wide smiles faker than Renji’s tattoos and Hisagi groans at the sight.
He’s not awake enough to endure this puke-happy place. He really isn’t.
Hisagi is about to tell Yachiru to slow down when the little girl detaches herself from his arm, skips towards one of the tables and, much to his horror, jumps onto the young man who occupies said table. The stranger looks appropriately surprised at the attack, before he starts laughing at something Yachiru says and pats the girl’s head. That makes Hisagi rush towards the two, fearing for his life since Kenpachi will definitely pound him to a bloody pulp if Yachiru decides to follow a stranger back home.
Yachiru waves at him once he manages to manoeuvre his way around the sea of people. She is sitting on the table, right in front of the stranger and has also claimed ownership over his half-eaten sundae. “Shuu-chan, you’re slow! Hurry, hurry!”
Hisagi’s eyebrow twitches. He turns to the stranger (who is smiling in shy amusement) and grins apologetically. “Sorry ‘bout her. She gets excited when she sees food.”
“It’s okay.” The stranger’s eyes stray to Yachiru and his smile widens an extra inch, gentle warmth radiating from the simple gesture and Hisagi itches to see the smile directed at him again. He thinks belatedly that he must be desperate to get jealous over Yachiru for some pretty dude’s smile and whoever is this guy - is he single? He kicks himself mentally, and did it again just for good measure. Definitely getting early-morning heat stroke. Said pretty dude rises from his seat and bows at Hisagi in the midst of his mental rant. “Izuru Kira, nice to meet you.”
“Hisagi Shuuhei. At your service. And this brat here’s Yachiru, m’niece.” He attempts to remove Yachiru from Kira’s table and is met with a vicious bite. Withdrawing his abused limb, Hisagi glares at his charge. “Who won’t get any dessert with ‘er lunch if she don’t follow me back right now.”
Yachiru sticks out her tongue and shifts away from Hisagi. “I’ll tell Ken-chan that Shuu-chan’s been mean!”
Hisagi pales at the threat and Kira chuckles, subtly drawing out a chair as he does so. “Kenpachi-san has been called on an assignment again?”
Now, that’s a surprise. “You know my uncle?”
Kira nods, dodges bits of wafer from Yachiru’s mouth expertly. He lowers his voice and Hisagi uses that as an excuse to lean closer. “I work for Ichimaru-sama. I’ve been asked to baby sit Yachiru before, during meetings.”
The dark-haired man whistles appreciatively. He gives Kira a once-over and decides that no, Kira doesn’t look like a yakuza member, especially one that’s supposed to be working underneath that infamous grinning madman. “Yer his secretary or somethin’?”
There is a split second of hesitation in the nod that answers his question, enough that Hisagi doubts that is the whole truth. Not really his place to continue asking though. “And you’re Tousen-san’s right hand, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Not much offa secret ‘round the ‘hood.” Hisagi shrugs and waves off a waitress in her way towards them. Yachiru is too busy soaking her hair in sticky sundae to disturb the flow of conversation. She will get sick by dinnertime and Kenpachi will kill him for allowing Yachiru to get sick, but Hisagi doesn’t really mind. As long as he can just sit for a while and talk to this shy guy. “How come I never see you before?”
“I do a lot of paperwork,” Kira says, a slow curl of a smile on his lips. His fingers toy with the sleeve of his coat and Hisagi restrains himself from the sudden impulse to reach forward and tug those fingers away. “I don’t really… do any field works.”
“S’nothing interesting.” And it’s sort of true too, to a point. The family is too close-knit for squabbles other than occasional petty arguments. No one in the town, the police included, likes to mess with Gotei-13. “Anyway. Wanna join us this mornin’?”
“Eh?”
Hisagi decides that he likes that wide-eyed, unsure but pleased look on Kira’s face. He ruffles Yachiru’s hair and continues, voice slow and steady as to hide his mounting anticipation. “We plan to go to that new amusement park and yer welcome to come along.”
Kira turns red at the invitation, fidgets with his sleeve again. “But I don’t want to be a bother…”
“You’re not.” Hisagi flashes the blonde a grin that Matsumoto dubs his ‘porn’ grin. “Come on. Please?”
“I… suppose… Are you sure it’s okay?”
Yachiru chooses that moment to burp loudly and exclaims, “Shuu-chan likes Blondie!”
Hisagi groaned.
END
Comments and edits are loved and appreciated!
Type: Fanfiction : Bleach.
Prompt: For yakunitatanai ; (1) Sticky-sweet (2) Genuine smiles (3) Comfort/recuperation. Just (1) and (3) in this part. D:
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, in any form or way. Kubo Tite owns them, and my secret dream is to marry him.
Rating: Um. PG15, I think?
Word Count: NADA.
Summary: Um. ShuuKira. In two short fanfics? *dies*
Author's Note: The first part of two for shuukira's Christmas Exchange. I had the idea of using one seasons per prompt and I managed to finish two of them before I fall sick. My deepest apology for posting this late since I haven't been feeling well enough to stare at my laptop. And the second part shall be done, sooner or later! yakunitatanai, I hope you enjoy this! ♥ Merry Christmas, fellow ShuuKira-ans!
rewrite our history together
summer; post-betrayal; comfort/recuperation
He finds Kira on one of the cliffs overlooking Rukongai at the end of summer, lithe body hunched over dusty ground and eyes fixed at something at Hisagi cannot see. He stands a little further behind, still as a statue and silent as a shadow, continues to observe the silhouette of his fellow vice captain against the dying sun and the way Kira’s light golden hair laps over the dark of his shinigami uniform. Chatters and screams from the settlements below get louder as the darkness settles in, and Hisagi wonders how long Kira has been sitting there.
How long Kira plans to continue sitting there, waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.
“Hisagi-san?”
Hisagi holds up a hand in greeting; pretends he hasn’t been looking, pretends he doesn’t see the melancholy in green eyes. “I was searching for you. Abarai told me you’d be here.”
“Ah, I’m sorry!” Kira quickly rises on his feet, only to stagger back with what Hisagi expects to be muscle cramp, from staying in one position for too long. Kira regains his footing in an instant, mouth curves into a smile that echoes embarrassment and self-deprecation. “Can I help you with anything?”
Hisagi moves forward until he is standing besides the other shinigami, looking out at pinpricks of light from clusters of dilapidated buildings. He feels Kira shifts next to him and slants a look at the blonde. “I heard they’ve appointed a new captain for your division.”
There is a question in the statement, and those eyes widen for a fraction of a second before Kira nods slowly, averts his attention back to the far horizon, to that something only he can see. Hisagi doesn’t look away, studies the pale face, all sharp angles and misplaced softness, and thinks that despair shouldn’t look as beautiful as it does on Kira. Thin lips part and Kira’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I was told that the quickest way to erase a man’s presence is to replace it with another.”
He says nothing, because it is not his words that Kira needs.
Not this time.
This moment of silence is something he’s unaccustomed to when being with Kira, and it makes him itch.
He’s used to the ruckus Matsumoto and Kira caused whenever they go drinking together, cursing and yelling at the now-absent Ichimaru as if the traitor is still there to take the brunt of their drunken accusations. Words loud enough to mask the pain in their hearts and he sometimes wishes that he has their self-abandon to indulge in such activity. Instead, he seeks refuge in a front of a grave of someone he doesn’t know, with a captain that is not his and silence as heavy as their unspoken questions. Hisagi thinks that, in retrospect, his way of coping isn’t really any better than Kira’s.
More often than not, once he returns to the sprawling compound of the divisions and if Renji isn’t around, Matsumoto will dump Kira’s limp body into his arms, before ambling back to her division in a more sober state than what should be possible after a night of straight drinking. Kira’s quarter is no different than his and Hisagi doesn’t find it to be a chore to roll open the futon and lay Kira down on it. The trouble starts only when Kira clings to him and calls him ‘taichou’ and asks him to stay ‘just for a little while more please?’
And Hisagi closes the door to soft pleas and murmured convictions, only to sit outside until he’s sure that Kira has fallen asleep. He does this every time, every night.
Renji makes it a habit to drop by once in a while and discuss future plans that involve, among others, Bankai-ing the living shit out of a certain Ichimaru Gin.
He’s drifting off and why does he remember all this?
“I better head back now. The office needs cleaning before Madarame-san’s arrival tomorrow.” An apologetic smile, a step back. The distance between them widens. “I’ll see you later, Hisagi-san.”
Hisagi snaps out of his brief reverie and narrows his eyes at the sorrow that seems to be permanently etched into the paleness of Kira’s face, even as the other shinigami turns around and starts toward Seireitei. He finds himself striding forward, reaching out and grabbing Kira’s elbow to stop him from walking out on him. From disappearing again, into that empty shell dictated by discipline and responsibility, tortured by doubts and uncertainties.
He understands. He wants, needs Kira to know that.
He understands.
Green eyes stares questioningly - surprised, apprehensive - at him, strands of golden falling over that pale face and Hisagi tightens his grip. “I’m here if you need me.”
“What are you-”
“I know what it feels like,” Hisagi continues, keeps his eyes locked on Kira’s. “It’s not just you.”
You’re not alone..
Silence settles over them for something like eternity to Hisagi and he thinks that maybe Kira is bruising. Not only from where he is gripping so hard, too hard but inside. Where nobody, including him, can reach into and heal because Kira is locked, sealed and chained by pain and betrayal. By laughing eyes and smiling lips. When the silence becomes too overbearing and he almost manages to convince himself that maybe he has said the wrong thing, taken the wrong approach, Hisagi loosens his grip. Apology is at the tip of his tongue when Kira places a hand above his, a wry smile on his lips.
“Hisagi-san… thank you.”
Hisagi can see a flash of fire in Kira’s green eyes, something reminiscent of a much younger Kira Izuru from the Academy and he finally relaxes. Allows those bony fingers to pry his hand away and returns Kira’s smile.
Everything will be alright. They will be alright.
Hisagi damned sure will make that happen, no matter what, just to keep that smile on Kira’s face.
END
by the roadside
spring; AU; sticky-sweet
“Ne, ne, ne~ Shuu-chan! Let’s get that!”
Hisagi sighs as he is physically dragged by his pink-haired, sort-of niece towards ‘that’, a tackily-decorated, brightly-painted café advertising ‘the best sundae in town’ in neon print over an oversized replica of a sundae. Plastic tables and chairs are placed underneath colourful umbrellas out on the sidewalk, sheltering patrons from spring’s sunlight as they enjoy their icy treats. Waiters and waitresses in overalls weave in between tables, delivering orders with wide smiles faker than Renji’s tattoos and Hisagi groans at the sight.
He’s not awake enough to endure this puke-happy place. He really isn’t.
Hisagi is about to tell Yachiru to slow down when the little girl detaches herself from his arm, skips towards one of the tables and, much to his horror, jumps onto the young man who occupies said table. The stranger looks appropriately surprised at the attack, before he starts laughing at something Yachiru says and pats the girl’s head. That makes Hisagi rush towards the two, fearing for his life since Kenpachi will definitely pound him to a bloody pulp if Yachiru decides to follow a stranger back home.
Yachiru waves at him once he manages to manoeuvre his way around the sea of people. She is sitting on the table, right in front of the stranger and has also claimed ownership over his half-eaten sundae. “Shuu-chan, you’re slow! Hurry, hurry!”
Hisagi’s eyebrow twitches. He turns to the stranger (who is smiling in shy amusement) and grins apologetically. “Sorry ‘bout her. She gets excited when she sees food.”
“It’s okay.” The stranger’s eyes stray to Yachiru and his smile widens an extra inch, gentle warmth radiating from the simple gesture and Hisagi itches to see the smile directed at him again. He thinks belatedly that he must be desperate to get jealous over Yachiru for some pretty dude’s smile and whoever is this guy - is he single? He kicks himself mentally, and did it again just for good measure. Definitely getting early-morning heat stroke. Said pretty dude rises from his seat and bows at Hisagi in the midst of his mental rant. “Izuru Kira, nice to meet you.”
“Hisagi Shuuhei. At your service. And this brat here’s Yachiru, m’niece.” He attempts to remove Yachiru from Kira’s table and is met with a vicious bite. Withdrawing his abused limb, Hisagi glares at his charge. “Who won’t get any dessert with ‘er lunch if she don’t follow me back right now.”
Yachiru sticks out her tongue and shifts away from Hisagi. “I’ll tell Ken-chan that Shuu-chan’s been mean!”
Hisagi pales at the threat and Kira chuckles, subtly drawing out a chair as he does so. “Kenpachi-san has been called on an assignment again?”
Now, that’s a surprise. “You know my uncle?”
Kira nods, dodges bits of wafer from Yachiru’s mouth expertly. He lowers his voice and Hisagi uses that as an excuse to lean closer. “I work for Ichimaru-sama. I’ve been asked to baby sit Yachiru before, during meetings.”
The dark-haired man whistles appreciatively. He gives Kira a once-over and decides that no, Kira doesn’t look like a yakuza member, especially one that’s supposed to be working underneath that infamous grinning madman. “Yer his secretary or somethin’?”
There is a split second of hesitation in the nod that answers his question, enough that Hisagi doubts that is the whole truth. Not really his place to continue asking though. “And you’re Tousen-san’s right hand, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Not much offa secret ‘round the ‘hood.” Hisagi shrugs and waves off a waitress in her way towards them. Yachiru is too busy soaking her hair in sticky sundae to disturb the flow of conversation. She will get sick by dinnertime and Kenpachi will kill him for allowing Yachiru to get sick, but Hisagi doesn’t really mind. As long as he can just sit for a while and talk to this shy guy. “How come I never see you before?”
“I do a lot of paperwork,” Kira says, a slow curl of a smile on his lips. His fingers toy with the sleeve of his coat and Hisagi restrains himself from the sudden impulse to reach forward and tug those fingers away. “I don’t really… do any field works.”
“S’nothing interesting.” And it’s sort of true too, to a point. The family is too close-knit for squabbles other than occasional petty arguments. No one in the town, the police included, likes to mess with Gotei-13. “Anyway. Wanna join us this mornin’?”
“Eh?”
Hisagi decides that he likes that wide-eyed, unsure but pleased look on Kira’s face. He ruffles Yachiru’s hair and continues, voice slow and steady as to hide his mounting anticipation. “We plan to go to that new amusement park and yer welcome to come along.”
Kira turns red at the invitation, fidgets with his sleeve again. “But I don’t want to be a bother…”
“You’re not.” Hisagi flashes the blonde a grin that Matsumoto dubs his ‘porn’ grin. “Come on. Please?”
“I… suppose… Are you sure it’s okay?”
Yachiru chooses that moment to burp loudly and exclaims, “Shuu-chan likes Blondie!”
Hisagi groaned.
END
Comments and edits are loved and appreciated!