Fanfiction & Fanart: Bleach - Happy Valentine!
Title: Happy Valentine!
Type: Fanfiction & Fanart: Bleach.
Prompt: For Silver of silverharmony; (1) gambling (2) letters (3) waterfall.
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, at most. WHY CAN'T I WRITE HIGHER RATINGS?! D:
Word Count: 2,064 words. Ha ha.
Summary: In which Hisagi was sortofkindof conned into asking Kira out, a letter from our resident blonde revealed his love interest and the author failed to use 'waterfall' as a prompt and replaced it with sketches instead.
Author's Note: These are written and drawn for shuukira's Valentine's Day Exchange. This community is so active it's great! Silver of silverharmony, I hope you enjoy this! ♥ Happy Valentine's Day, fellow ShuuKira-ans! Your feedbacks will be muchly appreciated and loved!
1. gambling
Ikkaku was never the one for small talks and pretty words, because he couldn’t do any of that disgustingly fruity shit even if his life depended on it. That’s something Yumichika’s good at; not him. He’s a straight up thug, honest and all. But when he looked down at those big, sad eyes and tentative smiles, all sickeningly sweet and goddamned fragile like that, Ikkaku couldn’t help but wished that he knew how to make small talks and say pretty comforting words. Because Kira looked like he was about to pass out from fear.
“So… er, Kira…” the bald shinigami scratched his non-itchy head awkwardly and looked at everything but the blushing, fidgeting blonde before him. “You wanna go for… uh, sake… or something after this? Ya know, like… only the two o’ us?”
The thin vice-captain blinked his big, sad eyes in surprise and took half-a-step back, looking for all the world like he was being confronted with a proposition for a midnight romp (not that Ikkaku would mind, really, even if that’s gonna get him killed for sure).
“Um… I’m not certain if-”
“S’okay, ya know,” Ikkaku hastily interjected, raising his hands before the blond could reject his offer. Muffled giggles reached his ears, those bastards and he awkwardly patted Kira’s shoulder. “I just wanna-”
“Ikkaku.”
Ikkaku grimaced. And the giggles died down in an instant.
Kira, if it was even possible, turned redder. His green eyes lit up with something unmistakably like relief and his tense shoulder relaxed for the first time in ten minutes, one hand moving to tuck stray strands of hair to the back of an ear. “Hisagi-senpai.”
Stifling a groan, Ikkaku nodded unenthusiastically to acknowledge the dark-haired vice captain, who was glaring bloody murder at the expanse of his shiny head. Talk about being possessive, and he ain’t even dating Kira. Ikkaku turned to Kira and attempted a smile for the blonde. “I’ll see ya later, eh? Think ‘bout it.”
Ikkaku turned without waiting for a reply, grinned at Hisagi, who stiffly nodded in return, and ambled towards the nearest building. He promptly planted a foot on Iba’s head. “Fuck ya’ll.”
Renji sniggered and avoided a foot aimed at his head. He hunched against the wall, grinning like a madman. He pursed his lips and did a horrible imitation Ikkaku’s voice that triggered another gigglefest from Iba. “So, er, Kira. You wanna go for sake or somethin’ after this?” Renji howled with laughter, clutching at his sides. “Man, yer pathetic! That’s even worse than the time Iba tried to ask Soi Fong out!”
“Hey! Don’t go draggin’ me into this!”
Before Ikkaku could go Bankai and shut those two up for good, someone else had decided to join in their little friendly conversation. Hisagi stared down at the three, disconcertingly quiet and Ikkaku could hear ominous funeral march playing in the background. Iba and Renji, thankfully, had enough survival instinct to stop guffawing.
Awkward silence ensued.
“So…” Hisagi finally opened his mouth and drawled out. His eyes were narrowed threateningly. “What are you three up to now?”
More awkward silence followed, and Renji stomped on Iba’s foot when the burly man opened his mouth.
Ikkaku sighed. His friends were morons. “I was just askin’ Kira out. You happy?”
Hisagi’s reiatsu might just turned a bit murderous at that. “Why?”
“Why not?” The fifth-seat challenged, hand instinctively rested on his zanpakutou. Worse came to worse, he was quite certain that he could take on Hisagi. It would be one messy fight but it’d be worth it. “Not like he’s seein’ anyone.”
A chorus of ‘Yeah!’ came from the sideline. Great. Now he had cheerleaders.
Hisagi wasn’t looking too impressed. “You’re wrong.” He crossed his arms and the glare intensified. “Kira… is with me.”
Ikkaku, Renji and Iba stared. And then burst into a cacophony of laughter.
“Yer kiddin’!” Renji managed to gasp out, face as red as his hair. There were tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. He nudged Iba with an elbow. “Man, this guy’s a joker!”
Hisagi had half-unsheathed his zanpakutou when the three sobered up enough to realise the fact that they were on the verge of being sliced up into meaty ribbons. Iba quickly took a step back, dragging Renji and Ikkaku with him. In a sudden (and rare) moment of intelligence, Iba pointed a finger at Hisagi and demanded, “We want proof!”
“Wha- Proof?” Hisagi scowled and Renji though, in retrospect, that at least his zanpakutou remained sheathed. “I don’t-”
Renji punched Hisagi on the shoulder, grinning as if it was meant to be playful but was definitely hard enough to bruise. “Don’t have any proof?”
“I-”
“You ain’t really seein’ Kira, huh?” Ikkaku groused and the way Hisagi blanched at the question made him grin victoriously. “Well. Now we’ve settled that, I’m gonna go and ask him again. Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”
“No WAIT!”
Ikkaku nearly fall on his butt when Hisagi grabbed the back of his uniform. He turned and brandished Hozukimaru at the flustered vice captain. “What’s the big deal, man?!”
“I’m asking him first!” Hisagi slapped the spear and threat away, determination in his eyes even as he rushed past Ikkaku. He paused to treat the three stunned shinigami a warning glare. “The only one who’ll ask him.”
They waited until Hisagi had disappeared around the corner and exchanged bemused stares. Iba scratched his stomach. “Twenty says he’ll turn cold in front of Kira.”
Renji grinned. “Make that fifty, and he’ll vomit. He did that the last time.”
“I’ll double that.”
“Deal.”
END
2. letters
The paper crinkled in his hands, creased around the corners from being read too much and Kira leaned back against his chair with a sigh. The mount of books around him provided much needed privacy, blocking out the buzz of conversations and activities in the study hall. He stared at the paper once again, eyes skimmed over words that he’d memorised and he really, really needed to start on his book report right now.
“Hey, whatcha doin’?”
Startled, Kira’s first instinct was to shove the paper in between his English essays and frowned at the intruder. He retracted the frown once he saw Renji’s face hovering above the stacked books. “Abarai-kun, you surprised me. I thought you’re still in practice?”
“Coach dismissed us early today.” The redhead grinned and took a seat next to Kira, slung one hand around the blonde’s shoulder. He smelled of sweat and there were smears of dried mud on his baseball uniform but Kira found the combination to be strangely reassuring. That was until Renji’s grin turned conspiratorial. “What’s that thing you’re reading?”
“It’s nothing,” Kira answered, slow and defensive. He picked up a pen and began scrawling random sentences into his notebook. “Just proof-reading my essay. I made mistakes when it comes to prepositions.”
Renji rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right and Yumichika ain’t gay. This ‘bout that senior you been moonin’ over?”
Kira turned red in an instant and started sputtering. “I didn’t! It’s not-”
“Gettin’ hysterical proves my point alright.” Renji patted the blonde’s back, smug and satisfied that he’d hit the jackpot. He stared at Kira expectantly. “C’mon, show me.”
“I- Fine. Just don’t laugh, okay?” There was no escaping Renji when he became persistent about something and Kira pulled out the incriminating piece of paper, handing it over to the redhead. There were fresh wrinkles where he’d shoved it into his pile of homework. “I’ve been trying to… you know.”
Renji took one look at the neatly-penned words and started sniggering. “You wrote him a love letter?”
“It’s not a love letter!”
“Yer turnin’ into one of his fangirls.”
“I’m not!”
“‘Hisagi-senpai, I wish you luck in the upcoming tournament’,” Renji read out aloud, punctuating his recital with a snort. He waved the letter in front of Kira’s face, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Yep, sounds like a fangirl to me.”
Kira tried to snatch the paper away, failed and proceeded to sulk. Renji recognised the signs of impending tears and squirmed uncomfortably. Making Kira cry was like… a crime more heinous than murder. “Please return the letter, Abarai-kun. I’m not even going to give it to him.”
“Geez, Kira. Don’t gimme that look.” Renji sounded both sheepish and apologetic, his grin replaced by a smile he often used to worm himself out of trouble. More often that not, it didn’t work. “I’m just sayin’ that likin’ Hisagi and not tellin’ him-”
“Someone likes me? Who?”
Renji and Kira looked up at the same time, faces drained of colours when they found the object of their conversation standing behind Renji. Hisagi mock saluted the sophomores, his other hand full with protective gears of his kendo uniform. He placed the gears on a neighbouring table and, unfortunately for Kira (and Renji by default), spotted the letter in Renji’s hand. The ‘Dear Hisagi-senpai’ at the top of the paper answered his question well enough and before Renji or Kira could stop him, Hisagi had coaxed the letter away from Renji’s slack grip.
Kira promptly folded his hands on the table and buried his face there, unmoving.
(And Renji feared to be unbreathing, really, Kira had done it before.)
In the midst of silence that followed, Renji managed to slip away unnoticed and sent a prayer to whatever deity that looked over redheads for protection against blondes and their ridiculously potent, guilt-inducing sad eyes.
Hisagi finally looked up from the letter after several (torturous) minutes, lips curling into a slow smile. He folded the letter and took the seat that Renji had just vacated, sitting besides Kira without a word. It was the blonde who broke the silence first, one green eye peeking out from behind dishevelled golden hair and rumpled shirt. His voice was slightly muffled and Hisagi leaned closer to pick up the words that had just escaped Kira’s lips.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Hisagi placed the letter onto the table, near Kira’s elbow. He dragged his chair closer to the blonde’s. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”
Kira shook his head, hair sticking out everywhere. “I shouldn’t…”
Hisagi waited for Kira to continue but when the seconds ticked away quietly, he tapped the blonde’s arm. “Hey… you still with me?”
A groan filtered through the mess of hair and fabric.
“Kira.” Hisagi flipped the letter open, scanning the words. “Do you really think that we’ll win the tournament? We got some pretty rough opponents this year, you know.” Receiving no audible reply, the senior picked up the letter and began reading it all over again. “Thanks for the compliment anyway. I didn’t think I look good in black.”
“… You do.”
Hisagi grinned when he saw Kira’s face, at the blush spreading over pale skin. “Glad to know that.”
“I. Um. Hisagi-senpai, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have written that.”
Hisagi held said letter away from Kira’s fingers. “You’re not taking it back, are you?”
“But-”
“It’s mine,” Hisagi declared, his grin wide and teasing. He folded it again and placed it inside the folds of his uniform. “I don’t give back love letters.” Standing up, Hisagi offered Kira his widest grin and his hand. “Wanna join me for lunch?”
Kira blinked and there could even be steam coming out from underneath his collar, as he hesitated at the invitation. “Are you sure… it’s okay?”
“You’re not dumping me, right? We haven’t even gotten to second base yet.” Hisagi laughed when Kira’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Joking, of course. Unless you’d rather skip the first date and go straight there. I’ve no whatsoever complaint.”
“Hi-Hisagi-senpai!”
Hisagi leaned forward and grasped Kira’s hand in his own, stole a kiss from the shocked sophomore and his laughter echoed inside the hall, loud and warm. Kira lowered his head, the weight of Hisagi’s hand a solid reminder that this was no dream. He looked up at the laughing senior and smiled shyly, getting up to his feet even as other students had also looked up from their respective works. Kira tugged at Hisagi’s sleeve and when he turned, the blonde boldly pressed his lips against Hisagi’s.
To the senior’s questioning (and not at all displeased) stare, Kira smiled and ducked his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. “Just returning the favour.”
END
3. waterfall
I'm sorry! Kira looks like a girl and Shuuhei looks like he wants to devour Kira. And I FAIL IN DRAWING HEARTS! I HAVE NO HEARTS! D:
The true form of Hisagi's Shikai! THE CONFETTI OF TRUE LOVE. ♥♥ For Kira, of course.
Edits are loved like chocolates and roses!
Type: Fanfiction & Fanart: Bleach.
Prompt: For Silver of silverharmony; (1) gambling (2) letters (3) waterfall.
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, at most. WHY CAN'T I WRITE HIGHER RATINGS?! D:
Word Count: 2,064 words. Ha ha.
Summary: In which Hisagi was sortofkindof conned into asking Kira out, a letter from our resident blonde revealed his love interest and the author failed to use 'waterfall' as a prompt and replaced it with sketches instead.
Author's Note: These are written and drawn for shuukira's Valentine's Day Exchange. This community is so active it's great! Silver of silverharmony, I hope you enjoy this! ♥ Happy Valentine's Day, fellow ShuuKira-ans! Your feedbacks will be muchly appreciated and loved!
1. gambling
Ikkaku was never the one for small talks and pretty words, because he couldn’t do any of that disgustingly fruity shit even if his life depended on it. That’s something Yumichika’s good at; not him. He’s a straight up thug, honest and all. But when he looked down at those big, sad eyes and tentative smiles, all sickeningly sweet and goddamned fragile like that, Ikkaku couldn’t help but wished that he knew how to make small talks and say pretty comforting words. Because Kira looked like he was about to pass out from fear.
“So… er, Kira…” the bald shinigami scratched his non-itchy head awkwardly and looked at everything but the blushing, fidgeting blonde before him. “You wanna go for… uh, sake… or something after this? Ya know, like… only the two o’ us?”
The thin vice-captain blinked his big, sad eyes in surprise and took half-a-step back, looking for all the world like he was being confronted with a proposition for a midnight romp (not that Ikkaku would mind, really, even if that’s gonna get him killed for sure).
“Um… I’m not certain if-”
“S’okay, ya know,” Ikkaku hastily interjected, raising his hands before the blond could reject his offer. Muffled giggles reached his ears, those bastards and he awkwardly patted Kira’s shoulder. “I just wanna-”
“Ikkaku.”
Ikkaku grimaced. And the giggles died down in an instant.
Kira, if it was even possible, turned redder. His green eyes lit up with something unmistakably like relief and his tense shoulder relaxed for the first time in ten minutes, one hand moving to tuck stray strands of hair to the back of an ear. “Hisagi-senpai.”
Stifling a groan, Ikkaku nodded unenthusiastically to acknowledge the dark-haired vice captain, who was glaring bloody murder at the expanse of his shiny head. Talk about being possessive, and he ain’t even dating Kira. Ikkaku turned to Kira and attempted a smile for the blonde. “I’ll see ya later, eh? Think ‘bout it.”
Ikkaku turned without waiting for a reply, grinned at Hisagi, who stiffly nodded in return, and ambled towards the nearest building. He promptly planted a foot on Iba’s head. “Fuck ya’ll.”
Renji sniggered and avoided a foot aimed at his head. He hunched against the wall, grinning like a madman. He pursed his lips and did a horrible imitation Ikkaku’s voice that triggered another gigglefest from Iba. “So, er, Kira. You wanna go for sake or somethin’ after this?” Renji howled with laughter, clutching at his sides. “Man, yer pathetic! That’s even worse than the time Iba tried to ask Soi Fong out!”
“Hey! Don’t go draggin’ me into this!”
Before Ikkaku could go Bankai and shut those two up for good, someone else had decided to join in their little friendly conversation. Hisagi stared down at the three, disconcertingly quiet and Ikkaku could hear ominous funeral march playing in the background. Iba and Renji, thankfully, had enough survival instinct to stop guffawing.
Awkward silence ensued.
“So…” Hisagi finally opened his mouth and drawled out. His eyes were narrowed threateningly. “What are you three up to now?”
More awkward silence followed, and Renji stomped on Iba’s foot when the burly man opened his mouth.
Ikkaku sighed. His friends were morons. “I was just askin’ Kira out. You happy?”
Hisagi’s reiatsu might just turned a bit murderous at that. “Why?”
“Why not?” The fifth-seat challenged, hand instinctively rested on his zanpakutou. Worse came to worse, he was quite certain that he could take on Hisagi. It would be one messy fight but it’d be worth it. “Not like he’s seein’ anyone.”
A chorus of ‘Yeah!’ came from the sideline. Great. Now he had cheerleaders.
Hisagi wasn’t looking too impressed. “You’re wrong.” He crossed his arms and the glare intensified. “Kira… is with me.”
Ikkaku, Renji and Iba stared. And then burst into a cacophony of laughter.
“Yer kiddin’!” Renji managed to gasp out, face as red as his hair. There were tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. He nudged Iba with an elbow. “Man, this guy’s a joker!”
Hisagi had half-unsheathed his zanpakutou when the three sobered up enough to realise the fact that they were on the verge of being sliced up into meaty ribbons. Iba quickly took a step back, dragging Renji and Ikkaku with him. In a sudden (and rare) moment of intelligence, Iba pointed a finger at Hisagi and demanded, “We want proof!”
“Wha- Proof?” Hisagi scowled and Renji though, in retrospect, that at least his zanpakutou remained sheathed. “I don’t-”
Renji punched Hisagi on the shoulder, grinning as if it was meant to be playful but was definitely hard enough to bruise. “Don’t have any proof?”
“I-”
“You ain’t really seein’ Kira, huh?” Ikkaku groused and the way Hisagi blanched at the question made him grin victoriously. “Well. Now we’ve settled that, I’m gonna go and ask him again. Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”
“No WAIT!”
Ikkaku nearly fall on his butt when Hisagi grabbed the back of his uniform. He turned and brandished Hozukimaru at the flustered vice captain. “What’s the big deal, man?!”
“I’m asking him first!” Hisagi slapped the spear and threat away, determination in his eyes even as he rushed past Ikkaku. He paused to treat the three stunned shinigami a warning glare. “The only one who’ll ask him.”
They waited until Hisagi had disappeared around the corner and exchanged bemused stares. Iba scratched his stomach. “Twenty says he’ll turn cold in front of Kira.”
Renji grinned. “Make that fifty, and he’ll vomit. He did that the last time.”
“I’ll double that.”
“Deal.”
END
2. letters
The paper crinkled in his hands, creased around the corners from being read too much and Kira leaned back against his chair with a sigh. The mount of books around him provided much needed privacy, blocking out the buzz of conversations and activities in the study hall. He stared at the paper once again, eyes skimmed over words that he’d memorised and he really, really needed to start on his book report right now.
“Hey, whatcha doin’?”
Startled, Kira’s first instinct was to shove the paper in between his English essays and frowned at the intruder. He retracted the frown once he saw Renji’s face hovering above the stacked books. “Abarai-kun, you surprised me. I thought you’re still in practice?”
“Coach dismissed us early today.” The redhead grinned and took a seat next to Kira, slung one hand around the blonde’s shoulder. He smelled of sweat and there were smears of dried mud on his baseball uniform but Kira found the combination to be strangely reassuring. That was until Renji’s grin turned conspiratorial. “What’s that thing you’re reading?”
“It’s nothing,” Kira answered, slow and defensive. He picked up a pen and began scrawling random sentences into his notebook. “Just proof-reading my essay. I made mistakes when it comes to prepositions.”
Renji rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right and Yumichika ain’t gay. This ‘bout that senior you been moonin’ over?”
Kira turned red in an instant and started sputtering. “I didn’t! It’s not-”
“Gettin’ hysterical proves my point alright.” Renji patted the blonde’s back, smug and satisfied that he’d hit the jackpot. He stared at Kira expectantly. “C’mon, show me.”
“I- Fine. Just don’t laugh, okay?” There was no escaping Renji when he became persistent about something and Kira pulled out the incriminating piece of paper, handing it over to the redhead. There were fresh wrinkles where he’d shoved it into his pile of homework. “I’ve been trying to… you know.”
Renji took one look at the neatly-penned words and started sniggering. “You wrote him a love letter?”
“It’s not a love letter!”
“Yer turnin’ into one of his fangirls.”
“I’m not!”
“‘Hisagi-senpai, I wish you luck in the upcoming tournament’,” Renji read out aloud, punctuating his recital with a snort. He waved the letter in front of Kira’s face, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Yep, sounds like a fangirl to me.”
Kira tried to snatch the paper away, failed and proceeded to sulk. Renji recognised the signs of impending tears and squirmed uncomfortably. Making Kira cry was like… a crime more heinous than murder. “Please return the letter, Abarai-kun. I’m not even going to give it to him.”
“Geez, Kira. Don’t gimme that look.” Renji sounded both sheepish and apologetic, his grin replaced by a smile he often used to worm himself out of trouble. More often that not, it didn’t work. “I’m just sayin’ that likin’ Hisagi and not tellin’ him-”
“Someone likes me? Who?”
Renji and Kira looked up at the same time, faces drained of colours when they found the object of their conversation standing behind Renji. Hisagi mock saluted the sophomores, his other hand full with protective gears of his kendo uniform. He placed the gears on a neighbouring table and, unfortunately for Kira (and Renji by default), spotted the letter in Renji’s hand. The ‘Dear Hisagi-senpai’ at the top of the paper answered his question well enough and before Renji or Kira could stop him, Hisagi had coaxed the letter away from Renji’s slack grip.
Kira promptly folded his hands on the table and buried his face there, unmoving.
(And Renji feared to be unbreathing, really, Kira had done it before.)
In the midst of silence that followed, Renji managed to slip away unnoticed and sent a prayer to whatever deity that looked over redheads for protection against blondes and their ridiculously potent, guilt-inducing sad eyes.
Hisagi finally looked up from the letter after several (torturous) minutes, lips curling into a slow smile. He folded the letter and took the seat that Renji had just vacated, sitting besides Kira without a word. It was the blonde who broke the silence first, one green eye peeking out from behind dishevelled golden hair and rumpled shirt. His voice was slightly muffled and Hisagi leaned closer to pick up the words that had just escaped Kira’s lips.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Hisagi placed the letter onto the table, near Kira’s elbow. He dragged his chair closer to the blonde’s. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”
Kira shook his head, hair sticking out everywhere. “I shouldn’t…”
Hisagi waited for Kira to continue but when the seconds ticked away quietly, he tapped the blonde’s arm. “Hey… you still with me?”
A groan filtered through the mess of hair and fabric.
“Kira.” Hisagi flipped the letter open, scanning the words. “Do you really think that we’ll win the tournament? We got some pretty rough opponents this year, you know.” Receiving no audible reply, the senior picked up the letter and began reading it all over again. “Thanks for the compliment anyway. I didn’t think I look good in black.”
“… You do.”
Hisagi grinned when he saw Kira’s face, at the blush spreading over pale skin. “Glad to know that.”
“I. Um. Hisagi-senpai, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have written that.”
Hisagi held said letter away from Kira’s fingers. “You’re not taking it back, are you?”
“But-”
“It’s mine,” Hisagi declared, his grin wide and teasing. He folded it again and placed it inside the folds of his uniform. “I don’t give back love letters.” Standing up, Hisagi offered Kira his widest grin and his hand. “Wanna join me for lunch?”
Kira blinked and there could even be steam coming out from underneath his collar, as he hesitated at the invitation. “Are you sure… it’s okay?”
“You’re not dumping me, right? We haven’t even gotten to second base yet.” Hisagi laughed when Kira’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Joking, of course. Unless you’d rather skip the first date and go straight there. I’ve no whatsoever complaint.”
“Hi-Hisagi-senpai!”
Hisagi leaned forward and grasped Kira’s hand in his own, stole a kiss from the shocked sophomore and his laughter echoed inside the hall, loud and warm. Kira lowered his head, the weight of Hisagi’s hand a solid reminder that this was no dream. He looked up at the laughing senior and smiled shyly, getting up to his feet even as other students had also looked up from their respective works. Kira tugged at Hisagi’s sleeve and when he turned, the blonde boldly pressed his lips against Hisagi’s.
To the senior’s questioning (and not at all displeased) stare, Kira smiled and ducked his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. “Just returning the favour.”
END
3. waterfall
I'm sorry! Kira looks like a girl and Shuuhei looks like he wants to devour Kira. And I FAIL IN DRAWING HEARTS! I HAVE NO HEARTS! D:
The true form of Hisagi's Shikai! THE CONFETTI OF TRUE LOVE. ♥♥ For Kira, of course.
Edits are loved like chocolates and roses!