Bleach Drabble (223-226)
I am waaaay too tired to have been writing, so I apologize in advance for the possible (probable) nonsensicalness of the next er, four drabbles. The previous nonsensical ones have different excuses, I'm sure. ^^;;
223.
Title: Private Property
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Sort-of ambiguously GanjyuxHanatarou
Word Count: 628
Warning/s: No real spoilers.
Summary: Ganjyu hates it when people that aren’t him pick on Hanatarou.
Dedication: The people who don’t like yaoi but don’t make a big fuss about it. Disagreeing nicely is GOOD. Teach your brethren.
A/N: In light of getting some really retarded feedback regarding yaoi THAT IS CLEARLY MARKED, I’ve decided to um…write lots more. Seriously people, this simple concept of “don’t like, don’t read” IS NOT VERY HARD TO ADHERE TO. Just skip it if it’s not to your taste or really, don’t read my stuff at all? GRIEF WOULD BE SAVED EVERYWHERE OMG. Anyway yeah, that’s it. I’m done. ^^;;
He gets irrationally angry when Hanatarou laughs at the end of a long day, coming back tired and full of unintentional stories about how much work he’s had to do and how badly he’s been treated by other shinigami.
It’s normal for the fourth division, he knows it is, and trying to protect Hanatarou from that would unquestionably alienate him from the rest of his teammates, but still.
No one can pick on Hanatarou but him dammit.
And maybe that’s hypocritical or something, but that’s not important. What’s important is that he believes it. And he thinks that anyone else trying to pick on the little guy is decidedly violating his very clearly marked personal property.
He is seireitei’s foremost expert in Hanatarou-picking-on.
The dean of the University of Hanatarou-picking-on and all its sub-fields of associated study, even.
The, well, one could say, Hanatarou-expert.
And this, this is all clearly infringing on his territory.
He feels his eye start to twitch about the time Hanatarou says something about inadvertently missing lunch while he was getting some eleventh division shinigami theirs, hahaha oops, and Ganjyu thinks that it, that’s the last straw. He’s storming down there tomorrow morning and kicking the ass of anyone who looks at the little guy the wrong way.
That’s his job.
Noting his companion’s increasingly agitated expression, Hanatarou quickly stops his story and reaches out to rest a hand on the larger man’s forearm, bringing him back into the present world. “Ganjyu-san, it wasn’t that bad,” the little shinigami assures him with a watery smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was going on and on, heh. I’ll uh, I’ll stop talking now, ne?”
Ganjyu frowns anyway, because the offer doesn’t pacify him one bit. “Yeah well. Still. I’m the only one that can pick on you, dammit,” he vocalizes, trying not to sound too pathetic about it. “Che. These assholes need to understand that it’s my job and my job alone.”
Hanatarou pauses thoughtfully at the declaration, giving Ganjyu a strange look that the larger man can’t quite place. After a second, the little guy breaks into a real smile, looking up at Ganjyu with a genuinely pleased expression. “Really? You mean that?”
He doesn’t really get it, but there’s something about the look on Hanatarou’s face that makes Ganjyu feel uneasy. “Well, yeah. ‘Course I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,” he grounds out, trying to look at anything but the little shinigami’s very big eyes. “I’m the only one that can uh…pick on you. Yeah.”
Hanatarou’s positively shining now-well, as much as he can-and with his hand still on Ganjyu’s arm, says, “I’m glad, Ganjyu-san!”
And that makes Ganjyu feel even more inexplicably flustered, and not knowing really, how he’s supposed to respond to that, he does the only thing he can think of to do.
He growls and pulls Hanatarou right up against him so he can properly knuckle the top of the little idiot’s head. “Stupid! Why does somethin’ like that make you happy? Huh? This ‘s why you get picked on by other people alla the time! It sounds like ya like it!”
“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry Ganjyu-san!”
When he lets Hanatarou go again, the little guy’s cheeks are flushed pink and he’s breathing heavily, and for some odd reason, that gives Ganjyu an immense sense of satisfaction, because he knows that no matter what those other assholes do, he’s the only one in the world that can get a reaction out of Hanatarou that looks like that.
Without a doubt, still the master.
Those other guys don’t stand a chance.
And that decided, Ganjyu grins and reaches out to ruffle Hanatarou’s hair, telling himself that it’s definitely gonna stay that way too.
END
224.
Title: No Matter What
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Tousen, Komamura (slightly KomaxTou)
Word Count: 466
Warning/s: Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc
Summary: Tousen has something he wants to protect.
Dedication: maydayswing- thanks for the fanart! Though for some reason, I can’t access the latest one anymore. ;_;
A/N: I am so tired right now I don’t know what I’m writing, seriously. -_-;;
The first time he met Aizen Sousuke, the other captain had asked him very kindly, if there was anything in this world that Kaname wished to protect, no matter what.
And Tousen remembers that for a long time, the only thing he’d had was his own sense of justice and the memory of a friend he could no longer protect, who had moved to a place beyond his protection. But he supposes that it had only been after gentle Aizen-taichou had asked him that question that he made himself properly think about it, and after a moment of deliberate meditation, he remembers realizing very suddenly, that yes, there was something.
He thinks that that had been the first time he really discovered the depth of his sentiment towards Komamura, the first time in a long time in which he’d found himself once more, feeling what he had once felt for a completely different person, long, long ago.
Something--someone-- he wants to protect, no matter what.
When Aizen-taichou had asked him, very warmly, if there was anyone in his life like that, Tousen remembers realizing that the person who means the world to him now is Komamura.
And so he had answered “yes, there is,” to that deceptively innocent question, letting Aizen Sousuke touch his shoulder kindly in response, those fingers on Kaname’s body something akin to feeling what a smile might have looked like had he ever been able to see one.
In response, Aizen had simply said, “Well then. Why don’t you come with me for a moment, Kaname? We’ll talk.”
And that had been that.
Perhaps it’s a little bit selfish, but there is one thing in the universe which Tousen Kaname wants to protect no matter what, and even as he wears the title of betrayer now, of criminal now, he truly believes that what he is doing, what he has done, is right.
Because there is something in the world that he thinks is worth protecting no matter what.
And that’s why he’s risked it all to be where he is today. Even if Komamura despises him for it in the end, even if Sajin is unable to forgive him for it, Kaname feels that if you love something enough, you have to be willing to do anything for it. Even suffer.
Especially suffer.
And so while Komamura may or may not hate him for everything that’s happened, Tousen Kaname can’t help but hope that one day, maybe his most precious person will at least be able to understand why he’s done what he’s done.
One day, he hopes that Sajin will be able to realize that the reason why Tousen has given up everything to live like this is because he has something he wants to protect.
No matter what.
END
225.
Title: Kenpachis Are Like Onions
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Kenpachi, Yachiru, Ikkaku, Shuuhei
Word Count: 929
Warning/s: No spoilers I can think of. Just uh... OOCness. Yeah.
Summary: Kenpachi has layers.
Dedication: antiparallel- as always, thanks for the fanart like ten billion times, and dude everyone in my anime club <3s your Kira expression. XD
A/N: This is really, purely for my own amusement. ‘Cuz yeah, I made an odd connection in my mind between Kenpachi and Shrek. Plus I just wanted more papa-ness. So uh, don’t mind me. I’m just so good at indulging myself, no matter how stupid, aren’t I? XD
It happened late one Friday afternoon, Shuuhei having gone to the eleventh division headquarters to pick up Ikkaku so they could go to their weekly poker game with Renji and Iba, planning to head out a little early seeing as to how it was their turn to provide the alcohol and snacks.
Ikkaku had been ready, and on seeing the ninth division vice-captain said, “Lemme just tell taichou I’m outta here.”
And so they’d headed to Zaraki’s office, Shuuhei trying his best not to seem nervous given that Kenpachi was well, a…psychopath… and gamely, he followed Madarame down the ominous hallways, deeper and deeper into the heart of the eleventh division’s main building and the infamous dark presence that lurked there.
Upon reaching the doors that unquestionably marked the office of the captain, Ikkaku completely disregarded any etiquette and casually strolled in without knocking, giving Hisagi reason to pause behind him and hope that it was something Zaraki allowed in his division rather than Madarame being forgetful about proper subordinate manners since it was the weekend now.
And thus it was with much trepidation that the door swung open to reveal…
Zaraki Kenpachi sitting in an armchair with Kusajika-fukutaichou and an open book balanced comfortably in his lap.
“Gaku?” the little girl asked, pointing to the text and looking up at the fearsome captain in mild confusion.
Kenpachi frowned, though not in any particularly intimidating manner. “No, it ain’t that,” he responded to her inquiry, chewing on the end of his pipe though it was very clearly unlit. “Look, gaku’s got the three spikes on top, ‘member? ‘s like my hair. Ya even said so earlier, ya little sneak. This one’s just got the one so it’s…”
“Ji?”
“Atta girl. Ain’t so hard when you remember tricks like that, eh?”
“Hai!”
“Alright, howsabout this one?”
“Er… nara?”
“’s good. You’re gettin’ it.”
“Wai!”
Shuuhei, rooted on the spot in the doorway, blinked incredulously.
Kanji lessons?
Zaraki Kenpachi was… with Yachiru…they were…
…learning how to read?
“Oi, taichou,” Ikkaku grunted, waving to get his captain’s attention and consequently, bringing Hisagi back into the real world.
Zaraki, removing his pipe and shifting slightly, turned at the sound of his third chair’s voice, single eye glaring up at the two intruders. “Whaddya want?”
“Clockin’ out, taichou, just wanted ta let ya know. ‘s Friday, so I’m out for the night.”
“Are ya now?”
“Yup. See ya in the mornin’.”
Kenpachi’s lip curled at his third chair’s easy-going nature. “Che. Well, ya better not come inta work as hung-over as ya were last week, ya hear me?”
Shuuhei, sensing the annoyance in the captain’s voice, supposed that maybe this was the sort of thing Zaraki was famous for being scary about, and decided that the kanji lesson could be forgotten in light of whatever it was he was about to do to Ikkaku for being so insolent.
Ikkaku, obviously unaware of the mortal danger he was in, merely grinned sheepishly at his captain. “Aw taichou, you worried ‘bout my health?”
Zaraki snorted, but oddly enough, relaxed back into his chair. “Like hell. Just so ya know, I ain’t lettin’ ya sleep off the headache in the jail again like I did last week if ya get completely pissed, got it? Now get outta here, me’n Yachiru are doin’ our readin’.”
Shuuhei blinked. That was it?
“Night, sir. Fukutaichou.”
“G’night baldy shiny smooth head guy!”
Ikkaku sighed at the over-excited moniker and headed back out of the office, closing the door behind him and Hisagi.
The vice-captain continued to stare at it for a little while anyway.
Zaraki Kenpachi…
Tousen-taichou would have severely punished him for even considering going in to work hung-over.
Improper or something. It wasn’t even feasible to smell like alcohol while on duty in the ninth division headquarters under kindly Tousen Kaname and how was it possible that Zaraki…
“Oi, Shuuhei, ya comin’ or what?”
Hisagi turned and stared at Ikkaku, who was waving his hand up and down in front of the vice-captain’s face. “That was big ole scary Zaraki Kenpachi?” he asked in an disbelieving whisper, still not quite able to process what he’d just seen.
Madarame looked back quizzically. “What the hell’re you talkin’ about?”
Hisagi pointed at the closed doorway. “They were…”
“Doin’ their readin’. Taichou says he doesn’t want fukutaichou growin’ up impaired or something like that,” Ikkaku explained simply.
“But…” Hisagi furrowed his brow. “That just don’t sit right for some reason. That was just… so tame.”
Ikkaku shrugged, being pretty much used to these sorts of reactions when it came to his taichou. They were always either pissing their pants or scratching their heads around him, it seemed. “Look, it ain’t that hard to process, alright? ’round here, we just say that taichou’s got layers, is all. Ya know, like an onion.”
“Layers, huh?” Shuuhei repeated, looking at the other death god skeptically. “Like an onion?”
Ikkaku put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Layers ‘n layers ‘n layers. Like an onion. And like an onion, it ain’t somethin’ anyone should really wanna bother bitin’ straight into. ‘s for the best. Got me?”
“Yeah…I think.”
Ikkaku, as if just remembering something important, leaned closer towards Hisagi and lowered his voice. “Oh, er… and just for the record… you ever go blabbin’ to the world ‘bout what ya just saw, taichou’ll probably kill ya. No joke.”
“Yeah. Yeah, got it.” Shuuhei sighed in relief, feeling oddly comforted by the familiarity of the threat.
Zaraki Kenpachi and death.
Now that, that was more like it.
END
226.
Title: Our Happy Home
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: IsshinxRyuuken, Yuzu, Karin
Word Count: 581
Warning/s: No spoilers I can think of. O.o Just more OOCness.
Summary: Ryuuken and the art of motherhood.
Dedication: laliho- yes, the yaoi flamers only make us write more. And here is me writing more. ^^
A/N: I don’t know either. I really, really don’t. It just…is. In a very cracked out Zen way? Yeah. *shifty-eyed*
When Isshin introduced him to Karin and Yuzu as “your new mommy” Ryuuken knew he was in trouble.
When poor, sweet little Yuzu started calling him Ryuuken-okaasan, he was trapped.
But he supposed that it was his fault entirely in the long run, for letting this whole thing get as completely out of control as it had. In his defense however, dealing with Kurosaki Isshin when the man had his mind set on something had basically given Ryuuken the very limited options of one, being hounded to death after being driven crazy, or two, humoring Isshin to certain degrees such that he would be satisfied for a moment and leave things be, despite the fact that inevitably, some time later, he would be back to wheedling on an even grander scale.
Ryuuken had chosen option two for obvious reasons, but there was a certain part of his brain that told him perhaps he should have just let himself be driven to madness first as offered in choice number one so that when he unavoidably reached the position he was in now in their relationship, he would have at least had the nice, warm cushion of lunacy shielding him from the truth of the horrors he was undoubtedly going to face.
“Aren’t you glad we have an even bigger family now, Yuzu-chan? Isn’t this what life is all about? Isn’t it? Don’t you feel all warm and happy in your heart?” Isshin asked from the table, grinning in the sort of self-satisfied way that made Ryuuken want to grab a spatula and beat him over the head with it.
But then Yuzu had to join in too, turning to the Quincy and saying, “It is! It really is! I’m so glad for everything, tousan! Aren’t you, Ryuuken-okaasan?”
And he had to sigh at that, coming face to face with those adorably naïve eyes of little Yuzu’s as she looked up at him with her hands folded under her chin, truly, genuinely ecstatic about indoctrinating him into the Kurosaki family as a real-life member.
And as he looked at those big, happy eyes and that sweetly tremulous mouth, Ryuuken thought that before this particular instant, he’d never been particularly glad for only having had a son himself. However, at the current moment, he thought that maybe it was best that he hadn’t had any daughters of his own.
He was discovering that they were very, very dangerous creatures.
Because there was something disturbingly captivating about this little girl’s completely hopeful young face looking up at him that made it somehow, impossible for him to refute her inquiry like he knew he should.
He found himself incapable of saying no.
So he sighed and instead, continued chopping vegetables in the brand new pink-and-white ruffled apron Isshin had purchased for him, murmuring a resigned “Of course, Yuzu,” in response to her question before going to the stove to test his soup, which was coming along rather nicely if he did say so himself.
Meanwhile, Karin--wonderful, jaded, completely-not-buying-it Karin-- sat at the table and did her homework and waited very, very patiently, for the lunacy to go away.
Ryuuken was almost one-hundred percent positive that her anticipated moment wouldn’t be coming any time today, and finishing the preparations for his meal, he sent the two girls upstairs to properly wash their hands before dinner.
He figured they might as well descend into complete madness as hygienically as possible.
He was still a doctor after all.
END
EDITS. They're VERY NEEDED.
223.
Title: Private Property
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Sort-of ambiguously GanjyuxHanatarou
Word Count: 628
Warning/s: No real spoilers.
Summary: Ganjyu hates it when people that aren’t him pick on Hanatarou.
Dedication: The people who don’t like yaoi but don’t make a big fuss about it. Disagreeing nicely is GOOD. Teach your brethren.
A/N: In light of getting some really retarded feedback regarding yaoi THAT IS CLEARLY MARKED, I’ve decided to um…write lots more. Seriously people, this simple concept of “don’t like, don’t read” IS NOT VERY HARD TO ADHERE TO. Just skip it if it’s not to your taste or really, don’t read my stuff at all? GRIEF WOULD BE SAVED EVERYWHERE OMG. Anyway yeah, that’s it. I’m done. ^^;;
He gets irrationally angry when Hanatarou laughs at the end of a long day, coming back tired and full of unintentional stories about how much work he’s had to do and how badly he’s been treated by other shinigami.
It’s normal for the fourth division, he knows it is, and trying to protect Hanatarou from that would unquestionably alienate him from the rest of his teammates, but still.
No one can pick on Hanatarou but him dammit.
And maybe that’s hypocritical or something, but that’s not important. What’s important is that he believes it. And he thinks that anyone else trying to pick on the little guy is decidedly violating his very clearly marked personal property.
He is seireitei’s foremost expert in Hanatarou-picking-on.
The dean of the University of Hanatarou-picking-on and all its sub-fields of associated study, even.
The, well, one could say, Hanatarou-expert.
And this, this is all clearly infringing on his territory.
He feels his eye start to twitch about the time Hanatarou says something about inadvertently missing lunch while he was getting some eleventh division shinigami theirs, hahaha oops, and Ganjyu thinks that it, that’s the last straw. He’s storming down there tomorrow morning and kicking the ass of anyone who looks at the little guy the wrong way.
That’s his job.
Noting his companion’s increasingly agitated expression, Hanatarou quickly stops his story and reaches out to rest a hand on the larger man’s forearm, bringing him back into the present world. “Ganjyu-san, it wasn’t that bad,” the little shinigami assures him with a watery smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was going on and on, heh. I’ll uh, I’ll stop talking now, ne?”
Ganjyu frowns anyway, because the offer doesn’t pacify him one bit. “Yeah well. Still. I’m the only one that can pick on you, dammit,” he vocalizes, trying not to sound too pathetic about it. “Che. These assholes need to understand that it’s my job and my job alone.”
Hanatarou pauses thoughtfully at the declaration, giving Ganjyu a strange look that the larger man can’t quite place. After a second, the little guy breaks into a real smile, looking up at Ganjyu with a genuinely pleased expression. “Really? You mean that?”
He doesn’t really get it, but there’s something about the look on Hanatarou’s face that makes Ganjyu feel uneasy. “Well, yeah. ‘Course I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,” he grounds out, trying to look at anything but the little shinigami’s very big eyes. “I’m the only one that can uh…pick on you. Yeah.”
Hanatarou’s positively shining now-well, as much as he can-and with his hand still on Ganjyu’s arm, says, “I’m glad, Ganjyu-san!”
And that makes Ganjyu feel even more inexplicably flustered, and not knowing really, how he’s supposed to respond to that, he does the only thing he can think of to do.
He growls and pulls Hanatarou right up against him so he can properly knuckle the top of the little idiot’s head. “Stupid! Why does somethin’ like that make you happy? Huh? This ‘s why you get picked on by other people alla the time! It sounds like ya like it!”
“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry Ganjyu-san!”
When he lets Hanatarou go again, the little guy’s cheeks are flushed pink and he’s breathing heavily, and for some odd reason, that gives Ganjyu an immense sense of satisfaction, because he knows that no matter what those other assholes do, he’s the only one in the world that can get a reaction out of Hanatarou that looks like that.
Without a doubt, still the master.
Those other guys don’t stand a chance.
And that decided, Ganjyu grins and reaches out to ruffle Hanatarou’s hair, telling himself that it’s definitely gonna stay that way too.
END
224.
Title: No Matter What
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Tousen, Komamura (slightly KomaxTou)
Word Count: 466
Warning/s: Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc
Summary: Tousen has something he wants to protect.
Dedication: maydayswing- thanks for the fanart! Though for some reason, I can’t access the latest one anymore. ;_;
A/N: I am so tired right now I don’t know what I’m writing, seriously. -_-;;
The first time he met Aizen Sousuke, the other captain had asked him very kindly, if there was anything in this world that Kaname wished to protect, no matter what.
And Tousen remembers that for a long time, the only thing he’d had was his own sense of justice and the memory of a friend he could no longer protect, who had moved to a place beyond his protection. But he supposes that it had only been after gentle Aizen-taichou had asked him that question that he made himself properly think about it, and after a moment of deliberate meditation, he remembers realizing very suddenly, that yes, there was something.
He thinks that that had been the first time he really discovered the depth of his sentiment towards Komamura, the first time in a long time in which he’d found himself once more, feeling what he had once felt for a completely different person, long, long ago.
Something--someone-- he wants to protect, no matter what.
When Aizen-taichou had asked him, very warmly, if there was anyone in his life like that, Tousen remembers realizing that the person who means the world to him now is Komamura.
And so he had answered “yes, there is,” to that deceptively innocent question, letting Aizen Sousuke touch his shoulder kindly in response, those fingers on Kaname’s body something akin to feeling what a smile might have looked like had he ever been able to see one.
In response, Aizen had simply said, “Well then. Why don’t you come with me for a moment, Kaname? We’ll talk.”
And that had been that.
Perhaps it’s a little bit selfish, but there is one thing in the universe which Tousen Kaname wants to protect no matter what, and even as he wears the title of betrayer now, of criminal now, he truly believes that what he is doing, what he has done, is right.
Because there is something in the world that he thinks is worth protecting no matter what.
And that’s why he’s risked it all to be where he is today. Even if Komamura despises him for it in the end, even if Sajin is unable to forgive him for it, Kaname feels that if you love something enough, you have to be willing to do anything for it. Even suffer.
Especially suffer.
And so while Komamura may or may not hate him for everything that’s happened, Tousen Kaname can’t help but hope that one day, maybe his most precious person will at least be able to understand why he’s done what he’s done.
One day, he hopes that Sajin will be able to realize that the reason why Tousen has given up everything to live like this is because he has something he wants to protect.
No matter what.
END
225.
Title: Kenpachis Are Like Onions
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Kenpachi, Yachiru, Ikkaku, Shuuhei
Word Count: 929
Warning/s: No spoilers I can think of. Just uh... OOCness. Yeah.
Summary: Kenpachi has layers.
Dedication: antiparallel- as always, thanks for the fanart like ten billion times, and dude everyone in my anime club <3s your Kira expression. XD
A/N: This is really, purely for my own amusement. ‘Cuz yeah, I made an odd connection in my mind between Kenpachi and Shrek. Plus I just wanted more papa-ness. So uh, don’t mind me. I’m just so good at indulging myself, no matter how stupid, aren’t I? XD
It happened late one Friday afternoon, Shuuhei having gone to the eleventh division headquarters to pick up Ikkaku so they could go to their weekly poker game with Renji and Iba, planning to head out a little early seeing as to how it was their turn to provide the alcohol and snacks.
Ikkaku had been ready, and on seeing the ninth division vice-captain said, “Lemme just tell taichou I’m outta here.”
And so they’d headed to Zaraki’s office, Shuuhei trying his best not to seem nervous given that Kenpachi was well, a…psychopath… and gamely, he followed Madarame down the ominous hallways, deeper and deeper into the heart of the eleventh division’s main building and the infamous dark presence that lurked there.
Upon reaching the doors that unquestionably marked the office of the captain, Ikkaku completely disregarded any etiquette and casually strolled in without knocking, giving Hisagi reason to pause behind him and hope that it was something Zaraki allowed in his division rather than Madarame being forgetful about proper subordinate manners since it was the weekend now.
And thus it was with much trepidation that the door swung open to reveal…
Zaraki Kenpachi sitting in an armchair with Kusajika-fukutaichou and an open book balanced comfortably in his lap.
“Gaku?” the little girl asked, pointing to the text and looking up at the fearsome captain in mild confusion.
Kenpachi frowned, though not in any particularly intimidating manner. “No, it ain’t that,” he responded to her inquiry, chewing on the end of his pipe though it was very clearly unlit. “Look, gaku’s got the three spikes on top, ‘member? ‘s like my hair. Ya even said so earlier, ya little sneak. This one’s just got the one so it’s…”
“Ji?”
“Atta girl. Ain’t so hard when you remember tricks like that, eh?”
“Hai!”
“Alright, howsabout this one?”
“Er… nara?”
“’s good. You’re gettin’ it.”
“Wai!”
Shuuhei, rooted on the spot in the doorway, blinked incredulously.
Kanji lessons?
Zaraki Kenpachi was… with Yachiru…they were…
…learning how to read?
“Oi, taichou,” Ikkaku grunted, waving to get his captain’s attention and consequently, bringing Hisagi back into the real world.
Zaraki, removing his pipe and shifting slightly, turned at the sound of his third chair’s voice, single eye glaring up at the two intruders. “Whaddya want?”
“Clockin’ out, taichou, just wanted ta let ya know. ‘s Friday, so I’m out for the night.”
“Are ya now?”
“Yup. See ya in the mornin’.”
Kenpachi’s lip curled at his third chair’s easy-going nature. “Che. Well, ya better not come inta work as hung-over as ya were last week, ya hear me?”
Shuuhei, sensing the annoyance in the captain’s voice, supposed that maybe this was the sort of thing Zaraki was famous for being scary about, and decided that the kanji lesson could be forgotten in light of whatever it was he was about to do to Ikkaku for being so insolent.
Ikkaku, obviously unaware of the mortal danger he was in, merely grinned sheepishly at his captain. “Aw taichou, you worried ‘bout my health?”
Zaraki snorted, but oddly enough, relaxed back into his chair. “Like hell. Just so ya know, I ain’t lettin’ ya sleep off the headache in the jail again like I did last week if ya get completely pissed, got it? Now get outta here, me’n Yachiru are doin’ our readin’.”
Shuuhei blinked. That was it?
“Night, sir. Fukutaichou.”
“G’night baldy shiny smooth head guy!”
Ikkaku sighed at the over-excited moniker and headed back out of the office, closing the door behind him and Hisagi.
The vice-captain continued to stare at it for a little while anyway.
Zaraki Kenpachi…
Tousen-taichou would have severely punished him for even considering going in to work hung-over.
Improper or something. It wasn’t even feasible to smell like alcohol while on duty in the ninth division headquarters under kindly Tousen Kaname and how was it possible that Zaraki…
“Oi, Shuuhei, ya comin’ or what?”
Hisagi turned and stared at Ikkaku, who was waving his hand up and down in front of the vice-captain’s face. “That was big ole scary Zaraki Kenpachi?” he asked in an disbelieving whisper, still not quite able to process what he’d just seen.
Madarame looked back quizzically. “What the hell’re you talkin’ about?”
Hisagi pointed at the closed doorway. “They were…”
“Doin’ their readin’. Taichou says he doesn’t want fukutaichou growin’ up impaired or something like that,” Ikkaku explained simply.
“But…” Hisagi furrowed his brow. “That just don’t sit right for some reason. That was just… so tame.”
Ikkaku shrugged, being pretty much used to these sorts of reactions when it came to his taichou. They were always either pissing their pants or scratching their heads around him, it seemed. “Look, it ain’t that hard to process, alright? ’round here, we just say that taichou’s got layers, is all. Ya know, like an onion.”
“Layers, huh?” Shuuhei repeated, looking at the other death god skeptically. “Like an onion?”
Ikkaku put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Layers ‘n layers ‘n layers. Like an onion. And like an onion, it ain’t somethin’ anyone should really wanna bother bitin’ straight into. ‘s for the best. Got me?”
“Yeah…I think.”
Ikkaku, as if just remembering something important, leaned closer towards Hisagi and lowered his voice. “Oh, er… and just for the record… you ever go blabbin’ to the world ‘bout what ya just saw, taichou’ll probably kill ya. No joke.”
“Yeah. Yeah, got it.” Shuuhei sighed in relief, feeling oddly comforted by the familiarity of the threat.
Zaraki Kenpachi and death.
Now that, that was more like it.
END
226.
Title: Our Happy Home
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: IsshinxRyuuken, Yuzu, Karin
Word Count: 581
Warning/s: No spoilers I can think of. O.o Just more OOCness.
Summary: Ryuuken and the art of motherhood.
Dedication: laliho- yes, the yaoi flamers only make us write more. And here is me writing more. ^^
A/N: I don’t know either. I really, really don’t. It just…is. In a very cracked out Zen way? Yeah. *shifty-eyed*
When Isshin introduced him to Karin and Yuzu as “your new mommy” Ryuuken knew he was in trouble.
When poor, sweet little Yuzu started calling him Ryuuken-okaasan, he was trapped.
But he supposed that it was his fault entirely in the long run, for letting this whole thing get as completely out of control as it had. In his defense however, dealing with Kurosaki Isshin when the man had his mind set on something had basically given Ryuuken the very limited options of one, being hounded to death after being driven crazy, or two, humoring Isshin to certain degrees such that he would be satisfied for a moment and leave things be, despite the fact that inevitably, some time later, he would be back to wheedling on an even grander scale.
Ryuuken had chosen option two for obvious reasons, but there was a certain part of his brain that told him perhaps he should have just let himself be driven to madness first as offered in choice number one so that when he unavoidably reached the position he was in now in their relationship, he would have at least had the nice, warm cushion of lunacy shielding him from the truth of the horrors he was undoubtedly going to face.
“Aren’t you glad we have an even bigger family now, Yuzu-chan? Isn’t this what life is all about? Isn’t it? Don’t you feel all warm and happy in your heart?” Isshin asked from the table, grinning in the sort of self-satisfied way that made Ryuuken want to grab a spatula and beat him over the head with it.
But then Yuzu had to join in too, turning to the Quincy and saying, “It is! It really is! I’m so glad for everything, tousan! Aren’t you, Ryuuken-okaasan?”
And he had to sigh at that, coming face to face with those adorably naïve eyes of little Yuzu’s as she looked up at him with her hands folded under her chin, truly, genuinely ecstatic about indoctrinating him into the Kurosaki family as a real-life member.
And as he looked at those big, happy eyes and that sweetly tremulous mouth, Ryuuken thought that before this particular instant, he’d never been particularly glad for only having had a son himself. However, at the current moment, he thought that maybe it was best that he hadn’t had any daughters of his own.
He was discovering that they were very, very dangerous creatures.
Because there was something disturbingly captivating about this little girl’s completely hopeful young face looking up at him that made it somehow, impossible for him to refute her inquiry like he knew he should.
He found himself incapable of saying no.
So he sighed and instead, continued chopping vegetables in the brand new pink-and-white ruffled apron Isshin had purchased for him, murmuring a resigned “Of course, Yuzu,” in response to her question before going to the stove to test his soup, which was coming along rather nicely if he did say so himself.
Meanwhile, Karin--wonderful, jaded, completely-not-buying-it Karin-- sat at the table and did her homework and waited very, very patiently, for the lunacy to go away.
Ryuuken was almost one-hundred percent positive that her anticipated moment wouldn’t be coming any time today, and finishing the preparations for his meal, he sent the two girls upstairs to properly wash their hands before dinner.
He figured they might as well descend into complete madness as hygienically as possible.
He was still a doctor after all.
END
EDITS. They're VERY NEEDED.