Bleach- "I’m Not Sorry For Anything, I Just Felt Like Doing Some Shopping"
Title: I’m Not Sorry For Anything, I Just Felt Like Doing Some Shopping
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13 for swearing?
Character/Pairing/s: KenpachixByakuya in the lightest degree, Yachiru
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine.
Word Count: 1,380
Summary: Zaraki Kenpachi does not apologize.
Dedication: cheloya’s holiday gift fic!
A/N: OH GOD I AM SO OUT OF PRACTICE WITH BLEACH. SORRY IT IS RETARDED EVERYONE. At least I reached by quota of 500 or more words per day? YAY. Now, onward to um…MORE gift fics. The sad thing is I will probably owe more than I already do before the week is done. XD;;
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
Kenpachi pauses from his paperwork for the fifth or sixth (or seventh, or eighth) time in the last hour, looking towards the window. “Quit mopin’ and do somethin’ useful, would ya?” he demands sourly.
Nothing.
He scowls.
“Oi brat, I said…”
He inexplicably trails off when his vice captain slowly turns to look at him for the first time all day since lunch. He blinks.
But she doesn’t end up saying anything; she just gives him a long, slow once-over before sighing to herself and turning back to the window.
The room gets several degrees colder.
Zaraki glares at her back for a while after that and thinks to himself that the whole frosty response thing she’s got going for her lately can’t be blamed on anyone but the current subject of their mutual discontent. Kenpachi decides to count it as another one of the many things the stupid princess should be blamed for today; she never used to pull this kind of silent-treatment bullshit on him.
Well, whatever. If she doesn’t want to talk to him, that’s just fine. Good, even. First afternoon of peace and quiet he’s gotten to enjoy since picking the ungrateful brat up all those years ago. He hopes it lasts all day.
He hopes it lasts forever.
Stubborn, he goes back to his paperwork. Just because she’s moping doesn’t mean there isn’t stuff to do around here.
Ten minutes later she’s still gazing silently out the window. Ignoring him.
He grits his teeth and throws his pen down.
“We’re going out,” he grunts, and stands. “I need to pick up some…stuff.”
Yachiru blinks, turns away from the window. “Really?”
So she does still talk. Go figure.
He makes a face. “I said we were, didn’t I? Now’re you comin’ or what?”
She knows what that means even if he doesn’t really; she laughs and scurries up onto his shoulder, all transgressions against her (real or imagined) promptly forgotten. “Yay!”
He has a feeling he will regret this.
~~~~~
“This way!”
“I know.”
“Left, Ken-chan, left!!”
“I know.”
“We’re getting close! Almost there, almost there!”
“I said I know!”
Yachiru giggles at him as they stop in front of their destination. “Ken-chan, you remembered! Nobody thought you would!” she cheers.
He sighs, feeling pained when she compliments him about it. “I know.”
He trudges into the shop.
~~~~~
It is fifteen minutes and one terrified tea store clerk later when the eleventh division pair exits the shop leaving it mostly intact; Kenpachi has an exceptionally froofy frou-frou shopping bag in hand and puts on his most fearsome expression to properly compensate for it. He turns to head back to the court.
It isn’t meant to be.
“Ken-chan, wrong way!” Yachiru protests, tugging on his hair like reins before he can head for home and get this stupid shit over and done with.
He blinks. “Buh?” He is pretty damned certain that it is the right way; he can see the gates from here.
But she won’t have any of it; she tugs his hair again, harder this time. “Left, left!” she chants. “We’re not done yet!”
“But…” he protests, holding up the exceptionally froofy frou-frou shopping bag, “Tea.”
She frowns at it like he hadn’t just spent two weeks’ pay on a can of leaves. “It’s not enough! Left! Otherwise it won’t work at all!”
He is officially boggled. “It…won’t?”
“Nope!”
“Bullshit.”
She smacks his head a few times and looks generally disapproving. “Not bullshit!”
“Really?”
“Yup!”
A moment.
“Really?”
“Really!”
Silence.
Then, “Left, huh?”
“Yup!”
He goes left.
And as they eventually arrive at the sweets shop that will more likely than not devour the rest of this month’s paycheck, Kenpachi kind of can’t believe how good her sense of direction can be when it comes to stupid shit like this.
~~~~~
It turns out that the overrated candy store isn’t the last stop on Yachiru’s list either; after the sweets that cost more than god, there are several other stops that must be made before she is satisfied with everything.
Kenpachi has never had anyone gayer than Yumichika touch him until today; he walks out of the salon and the couture boutique thinking he might just be traumatized for life.
~~~~~
It is seven o’clock on the dot when they arrive at the Kuchiki estate; Kenpachi’s hair is kind of in his face and his clothes are stiff and itchy. One froofy frou-frou bag of tea is clutched safely in Yachiru’s grubby little paws while he has been forced to carry a box of tea cakes that must be made of gold for how much he paid for them (let it be known that he is only holding them because she’d insisted he do it, otherwise she would definitely be on her own and he would be at a bar somewhere right now, making Ikkaku buy him drinks since his paycheck is gone).
“I’m so excited!” she chirps at Kuchiki’s doorstep, dancing from foot to foot in her fancy new clothes. “A real live tea party!”
Kenpachi glares down at the top of her head as she reaches up on tiptoes to ring the bell.
When the door opens a few minutes later it’s not that snooty butler who always looks down his nose at Zaraki and Yachiru whenever they’re over; it’s not even one of those stuffy maids who cluck at them disapprovingly all the time.
It’s worse.
Way, way worse.
Because it is Kuchiki Byakuya himself who is there to greet them; he arches a perfect eyebrow when he finds the eleventh division pair standing at his front door at this hour looking downright presentable. Zaraki’s hair is even straightened and let down and their new clothes are presentably not-stained with blood or entrails or both (yet).
Yachiru bounces when she sees that it's Byakuya, all bright eyed and excited. “Byakushi, we’re not too late for your tea party, right?” she asks. She sounds a little bit anxious.
“Tea ceremony,” he corrects, automatically.
She sighs, moves on quickly. “Whatever! Ken-chan is sorry for yelling at you about being high-fallutin’ and snobby yesterday when you came and invited us. Look, we brought sorry presents!”
Kenpachi sort of just gapes down at her; where the hell did she get that ridiculous idea into her fool head? “I’m not sorry!” he protests. “These are not sorry presents!”
She ignores him. “We brought really nice sorry presents too. Byakushi! And we really do wanna come to your party and eat your yummy stuff and make polite and civil and respectable conversation with your other guests without embarassin’ the shinigami or causin’ irreplaceable damage to your property,” she recites to the sixth division captain perfectly.
Byakuya smiles. “I see. The gifts are lovely.”
“Yup! I remembered all the places you liked. Ken-chan did too, and he never remembers how to get to places!” she reports, pushing the froofy frou-frou bag of tea into his froofy frou-frou hands. “So are we still allowed to come and meet all your friends?”
“Of course.”
“Yay!” she cheers, and then slides her sandals off respectfully before dashing off into the house so she can play with the rest of the guests.
Leaving Kenpachi in the doorway to glare at Byakuya.
By himself.
With his fancy-scmanshy new clothes and his hair let down.
“Well, taichou?” the sixth division captain prompts, after a moment. He sounds incredibly amused. “I know you were rather unnecessarily vocal about rejecting my invitation for this event the other day, but if you’re worried about space, I made sure to reserve enough room for you both anyway, on the offhand chance that you changed your mind.” Pause. Smirk. “And it seems as though you’ve brought your own snacks as well. How considerate.”
Kenpachi’s lip curls at the other captain’s tone and he’s almost, almost tempted to reach out and sock the sneering prissy boy right in the face.
Almost but not quite though; Zaraki also knows that his next paycheck won’t be in for at least another week.
“Here,” he growls instead, and shoves the box of sweets at Byakuya in a resigned sort of way. “This better be one hell of a party for her to get so worked up about it.”
Kuchiki chuckles and closes the door behind them.
END
MAJOR EDITS NEEDED.
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13 for swearing?
Character/Pairing/s: KenpachixByakuya in the lightest degree, Yachiru
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine.
Word Count: 1,380
Summary: Zaraki Kenpachi does not apologize.
Dedication: cheloya’s holiday gift fic!
A/N: OH GOD I AM SO OUT OF PRACTICE WITH BLEACH. SORRY IT IS RETARDED EVERYONE. At least I reached by quota of 500 or more words per day? YAY. Now, onward to um…MORE gift fics. The sad thing is I will probably owe more than I already do before the week is done. XD;;
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
Kenpachi pauses from his paperwork for the fifth or sixth (or seventh, or eighth) time in the last hour, looking towards the window. “Quit mopin’ and do somethin’ useful, would ya?” he demands sourly.
Nothing.
He scowls.
“Oi brat, I said…”
He inexplicably trails off when his vice captain slowly turns to look at him for the first time all day since lunch. He blinks.
But she doesn’t end up saying anything; she just gives him a long, slow once-over before sighing to herself and turning back to the window.
The room gets several degrees colder.
Zaraki glares at her back for a while after that and thinks to himself that the whole frosty response thing she’s got going for her lately can’t be blamed on anyone but the current subject of their mutual discontent. Kenpachi decides to count it as another one of the many things the stupid princess should be blamed for today; she never used to pull this kind of silent-treatment bullshit on him.
Well, whatever. If she doesn’t want to talk to him, that’s just fine. Good, even. First afternoon of peace and quiet he’s gotten to enjoy since picking the ungrateful brat up all those years ago. He hopes it lasts all day.
He hopes it lasts forever.
Stubborn, he goes back to his paperwork. Just because she’s moping doesn’t mean there isn’t stuff to do around here.
Ten minutes later she’s still gazing silently out the window. Ignoring him.
He grits his teeth and throws his pen down.
“We’re going out,” he grunts, and stands. “I need to pick up some…stuff.”
Yachiru blinks, turns away from the window. “Really?”
So she does still talk. Go figure.
He makes a face. “I said we were, didn’t I? Now’re you comin’ or what?”
She knows what that means even if he doesn’t really; she laughs and scurries up onto his shoulder, all transgressions against her (real or imagined) promptly forgotten. “Yay!”
He has a feeling he will regret this.
~~~~~
“This way!”
“I know.”
“Left, Ken-chan, left!!”
“I know.”
“We’re getting close! Almost there, almost there!”
“I said I know!”
Yachiru giggles at him as they stop in front of their destination. “Ken-chan, you remembered! Nobody thought you would!” she cheers.
He sighs, feeling pained when she compliments him about it. “I know.”
He trudges into the shop.
~~~~~
It is fifteen minutes and one terrified tea store clerk later when the eleventh division pair exits the shop leaving it mostly intact; Kenpachi has an exceptionally froofy frou-frou shopping bag in hand and puts on his most fearsome expression to properly compensate for it. He turns to head back to the court.
It isn’t meant to be.
“Ken-chan, wrong way!” Yachiru protests, tugging on his hair like reins before he can head for home and get this stupid shit over and done with.
He blinks. “Buh?” He is pretty damned certain that it is the right way; he can see the gates from here.
But she won’t have any of it; she tugs his hair again, harder this time. “Left, left!” she chants. “We’re not done yet!”
“But…” he protests, holding up the exceptionally froofy frou-frou shopping bag, “Tea.”
She frowns at it like he hadn’t just spent two weeks’ pay on a can of leaves. “It’s not enough! Left! Otherwise it won’t work at all!”
He is officially boggled. “It…won’t?”
“Nope!”
“Bullshit.”
She smacks his head a few times and looks generally disapproving. “Not bullshit!”
“Really?”
“Yup!”
A moment.
“Really?”
“Really!”
Silence.
Then, “Left, huh?”
“Yup!”
He goes left.
And as they eventually arrive at the sweets shop that will more likely than not devour the rest of this month’s paycheck, Kenpachi kind of can’t believe how good her sense of direction can be when it comes to stupid shit like this.
~~~~~
It turns out that the overrated candy store isn’t the last stop on Yachiru’s list either; after the sweets that cost more than god, there are several other stops that must be made before she is satisfied with everything.
Kenpachi has never had anyone gayer than Yumichika touch him until today; he walks out of the salon and the couture boutique thinking he might just be traumatized for life.
~~~~~
It is seven o’clock on the dot when they arrive at the Kuchiki estate; Kenpachi’s hair is kind of in his face and his clothes are stiff and itchy. One froofy frou-frou bag of tea is clutched safely in Yachiru’s grubby little paws while he has been forced to carry a box of tea cakes that must be made of gold for how much he paid for them (let it be known that he is only holding them because she’d insisted he do it, otherwise she would definitely be on her own and he would be at a bar somewhere right now, making Ikkaku buy him drinks since his paycheck is gone).
“I’m so excited!” she chirps at Kuchiki’s doorstep, dancing from foot to foot in her fancy new clothes. “A real live tea party!”
Kenpachi glares down at the top of her head as she reaches up on tiptoes to ring the bell.
When the door opens a few minutes later it’s not that snooty butler who always looks down his nose at Zaraki and Yachiru whenever they’re over; it’s not even one of those stuffy maids who cluck at them disapprovingly all the time.
It’s worse.
Way, way worse.
Because it is Kuchiki Byakuya himself who is there to greet them; he arches a perfect eyebrow when he finds the eleventh division pair standing at his front door at this hour looking downright presentable. Zaraki’s hair is even straightened and let down and their new clothes are presentably not-stained with blood or entrails or both (yet).
Yachiru bounces when she sees that it's Byakuya, all bright eyed and excited. “Byakushi, we’re not too late for your tea party, right?” she asks. She sounds a little bit anxious.
“Tea ceremony,” he corrects, automatically.
She sighs, moves on quickly. “Whatever! Ken-chan is sorry for yelling at you about being high-fallutin’ and snobby yesterday when you came and invited us. Look, we brought sorry presents!”
Kenpachi sort of just gapes down at her; where the hell did she get that ridiculous idea into her fool head? “I’m not sorry!” he protests. “These are not sorry presents!”
She ignores him. “We brought really nice sorry presents too. Byakushi! And we really do wanna come to your party and eat your yummy stuff and make polite and civil and respectable conversation with your other guests without embarassin’ the shinigami or causin’ irreplaceable damage to your property,” she recites to the sixth division captain perfectly.
Byakuya smiles. “I see. The gifts are lovely.”
“Yup! I remembered all the places you liked. Ken-chan did too, and he never remembers how to get to places!” she reports, pushing the froofy frou-frou bag of tea into his froofy frou-frou hands. “So are we still allowed to come and meet all your friends?”
“Of course.”
“Yay!” she cheers, and then slides her sandals off respectfully before dashing off into the house so she can play with the rest of the guests.
Leaving Kenpachi in the doorway to glare at Byakuya.
By himself.
With his fancy-scmanshy new clothes and his hair let down.
“Well, taichou?” the sixth division captain prompts, after a moment. He sounds incredibly amused. “I know you were rather unnecessarily vocal about rejecting my invitation for this event the other day, but if you’re worried about space, I made sure to reserve enough room for you both anyway, on the offhand chance that you changed your mind.” Pause. Smirk. “And it seems as though you’ve brought your own snacks as well. How considerate.”
Kenpachi’s lip curls at the other captain’s tone and he’s almost, almost tempted to reach out and sock the sneering prissy boy right in the face.
Almost but not quite though; Zaraki also knows that his next paycheck won’t be in for at least another week.
“Here,” he growls instead, and shoves the box of sweets at Byakuya in a resigned sort of way. “This better be one hell of a party for her to get so worked up about it.”
Kuchiki chuckles and closes the door behind them.
END
MAJOR EDITS NEEDED.