Bleach Drabble (492-496)
I have felt pretty brain-dead all week, so sorry if the interpretation on a lot of these prompts is um...retarded. LOL I think I am just burned out.
492.
Title: Not Like You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: lightly GrimmjowxIl Forte
Word Count: 941
Warning/s: Er, spoilers for the first invasion. I don’t remember chapter numbers at this point. Also, OOC out the wazoo. But whatever, it was all I could think of, mkay?
Summary: Grimmjow, Il Forte, and sweets in the human world. Sort of.
Dedication: requested by chrno_crusader. Also for kino_sycthe- Your Grimm will be missed!
A/N: The request was “chocolate bar.” This seriously took forever, LOL. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how the hell they would get a chocolate bar in Hueco Mundo. *dies*
They’d all been thrumming with excitement as they’d drawn nearer and nearer to the human world, each blood thirsty, ready for action, hungry. Grimmjow remembered how D Roy had been grinning and whooping the entire way there, how Forte’s smile had curled into a nasty, beautiful smirk on his face, the blond’s eyes glimmering excitement with each passing second that brought them closer to their targets.
“It’s probably gonna be boring,” Grimmjow remembered telling him on seeing that expression, even though he had to admit that the idiot’s smile had been kind of infectious.
“The real fun can come after,” Forte chuckled breezily, and flipped his long hair back over his shoulder. “The human world seems like such an interesting place, ne?”
Grimmjow snorted. “Don’t listen to Gin’s tall tales like he’s tellin’ the truth there, blondie. Doesn’t say much about your smarts.”
Forte simply sniffed dismissively at that, and Grimmjow really didn’t understand why the hell he let a weak little priss like Il talk back to him the way he did. It wasn’t like him to let people get away with that kind of bullshit.
“The first thing I want to do after I kill my target is eat sweets,” the blond Arrankar told Grimmjow then, like the Espada’s derision regarding Gin’s stories hadn’t counted for squat. Maybe it hadn’t, considering how seriously Forte was taking it all, the little shit.
“Sweets? What the hell kind of retarded goal is that?”
Forte shrugged one shoulder, looking a bit dreamy. “Aizen-sama never lets us have any…”
“Rots the teeth,” Grimmjow agreed, because he’d heard that particular song and dance a thousand times before from their crazy leader. “So what?”
Forte shared a secret look with him then, like he knew something Grimmjow didn’t. “Well… sometimes Gin-sama brings back things and lets me try them when Aizen-sama isn’t looking. I think chocolate is my favorite thing about the human world so far.”
“Choco-what? Sounds fuckin’ retarded.”
Forte twittered. “After you kill your target we can go get some for you to try. I’ll even wait for you.”
Grimmjow glared. He really didn’t know why he let the little fucker talk to him like that, because it really wasn’t like him at all. “Shut the hell up. I’ll be done taking care of my shit a million years before you’ve even started with yours.”
Forte only laughed again, and wasn’t particularly afraid of Grimmjow’s ire (the dumbass). “Mmm, maybe we can try cake too. Gin-sama says it’s delicious.”
Grimmjow sighed. “Whatever. Just concentrate on killing the little bastards first, will ya? We can have all the goddamned chocolate and cake and whatever the fuck you want afterwards.”
Forte smiled at him, sweetly evil. “No problem, boss.”
And then he’d tossed a wink over his shoulder at the sixth Espada, right as their little group finally made it into the human world. It was mission start the moment the doorway closed behind them, and Grimmjow remembered not even turning to look back in Forte’s general direction as they’d each locked onto their targets and split up, moving fast as lightning-exhilarated. He’d been so confident that he’d meet the pretty bastard again afterwards, when they went to go get cake and chocolate and all those other fruity retarded things Forte had been talking about, that he hadn’t even bothered to say anything more to him.
Grimmjow had been so goddamned sure.
And then Forte fought. Lost.
Grimmjow remembered how he’d felt every singly fucking bit of it while the prissy idiot was dying.
He’d snarled out loud at the strange sensation of Forte suddenly not existing anymore, the Espada making an angry fist and breaking apart the ice confining him before chasing after Ichigo and that snow-making bitch who’d popped out of nowhere at the last minute.
And it was in those moments right after Il Forte’s spiritual energy had suddenly blinked out of existence that Grimmjow felt-fleetingly- that nothing was going the way it was supposed to.
Really, that kind of thinking wasn’t like him at all.
Weird.
He’d tried not to dwell on it, to not pay it anymore heed than he ought to have, concentrating on chasing Ichigo and ripping the shinigami’s pathetic little heart out instead.
The original goal.
It wasn’t worth his time to think about the things that no longer lived.
He knew that. It was part of his most basic makeup as an Arrankar to forget about those who were killed, because the weak were ultimately useless and existed only to die by the hands of the strong. Lessons they’d learned all their lives living in Hueco Mundo.
And he knew that he knew those lessons too. He’d learned them well. Had even taught some of them to the others.
But even still-even still- as he chased after Ichigo and Rukia, Grimmjow couldn’t quite hold back the sudden, stray thought that now, now there was a goddamned fucking chocolate bar melting in his pocket and he knew shit all about what to do with it afterwards.
Pissed and confused, he wondered what it was about Forte that made him act like this, why that stupid fucking weak-ass bastard could get away with talking back to him, with making him go and get stupid fucking retarded chocolate bars and actually kind of look forward to sharing them later.
Everything about that wasn’t right- and he knew it.
He knew it.
But even still, as he ran, Grimmjow couldn’t help it when he wondered why Forte made the whole fucking world seem weird without him in it anymore.
Grimmjow knew it wasn’t like him at all.
END
493.
Title: A Test of the Emergency System
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika
Word Count: 995
Warning/s: Stupidity, but no spoilers. XD;;
Summary: Shuuhei might have forgotten something important.
Dedication: requested by whymetoday, and combined with the request by west_side, because I wanted to fit 11 requests into 10 drabbles and this was the only way I could see how. XD Also for pyrefly, because she encouraged me to try and get a Shuumi cult going. I AM TRYING?
A/N: Request one (by whymetoday) was: “early morning breakfast.” Prompt supplied by west_side was: “was there a reason?”
Good breakfast smells and his name being said sweetly woke him up this morning-earlier than usual, if his internal clock had anything to say about it-and blinking blearily, Hisagi Shuuhei’s first conscious vision of the day was Yumichika bouncing into the room with an immaculately prepared breakfast tray full of the vice-captain’s favorite foods.
Shuuhei stared.
“Good morning, Shuu!” Yumichika greeted, and set the tray down in front of him before pressing a kiss to his temple in a sweetly expectant kind of way.
Warning bells rang in Shuuhei’s head. “Mornin’…wow,” he murmured, and while his heart was suddenly going a hundred miles per minute he tried to play it cool.
Yumichika beamed and edged around the bed so he could crawl back in, nuzzling up comfortably against Shuuhei’s chest. “I made your favorites.”
“So I see,” Shuuhei agreed, carefully. He let his arm slip around the fifth seat’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze as he took in the spread before him. “Thanks.”
“None needed,” Yumi assured him, warmly.
And all Shuuhei could think was…shit.
He’d definitely forgotten something. Something important, because there was smoked salmon involved, and yes, those were homemade crepes slathered in the expensive strawberry preserves Yumichika usually only let him use once a week.
He swallowed.
Yumichika pouted at his hesitation. “What, you don’t want it?”
“No, ‘course I do… I was um, just admiring the craftsmanship and stuff. It’s pretty.”
The fifth seat sparkled. “Naturally.”
“Naturally,” Shuuhei agreed, and picked up his fork. He dug in then, eyeing Yumichika surreptitiously as he ate, looking for some sort of clue as to what exactly, it was he was forgetting this morning.
Not Yumichika’s birthday. They’d celebrated that in style. Not his birthday clearly, because Yumichika was obviously waiting for something from him in return. Not the first date anniversary, the first kiss anniversary, the first fight anniversary (he still wasn’t sure why they celebrated that, exactly, besides the fact that Yumi got to gloat about it lots and Shuuhei got sex at the end of the night either way), and it definitely wasn’t the first uh…other things anniversary. No half anniversary he could think of either, though sometimes his math was off.
“Good?” Yumi asked after a moment, and Shuuhei gave a bit of a start when he heard his lover’s voice again, the vice-captain nearly choking on his food. He quickly downed some fresh squeezed orange juice.
“It’s delicious, babe,” he assured Yumi, when he could. “Thanks.”
“I told you already, silly. Today you don’t need to say that to me!”
Fuck. Definitely something big.
Shuuhei gently squeezed Yumi closer against him, tucking the fifth seat’s head under his chin so he could turn slightly leftward, towards the calendar hanging on the wall across the room. It was a bit hard to make out from the distance, but there was an unmistakable red circle around today’s date.
And that was all. Nothing that would indicate why exactly, it was circled. In red.
Incredibly unhelpful. He felt a nervous sweat beginning to gather on his brow, and after a moment or two of blind, white panic, Yumichika began to squirm in steadily increasing grip.
“Not so hard, you’ll mess up my hair,” the fifth seat complained with a little warning nip at Shuuhei’s throat.
“Sorry,” the vice-captain murmured automatically, and loosened his embrace.
“Is something the matter?” Yumi asked carefully, once he’d managed to pull back enough to breathe again. He straightened his hair then, returning it to its previously immaculate state with a few well practiced swipes of his fingers. “I thought maybe I put in too much cinnamon on accident… does it taste bad?”
“No, it’s not that, babe,” Shuuhei assured him. “Uh, it’s just…” he turned to steal one last look at that unhelpful traitor of a calendar, in the hopes that maybe it would see the error of its ways and magically move to supply him with any information on today’s significance. Any at all.
No luck.
He sighed.
And then, after taking a slow, deliberate breath, he prepared to be honest (and subsequently, kicked out of bed for the rest of the week). “It’s just… to be perfectly honest…” he began, guiltily, “I uh… I can’t for the life of me remember what today is, Yumi.”
Yumi blinked up at him.
Shuuhei cringed and waited for the storm.
And then, simply, “Today’s Saturday, silly.”
…wait, what?
Shuuhei wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Wait, what?”
Yumichika smiled, and it was the kind of smile that told Shuuhei that he was really smirking about something.
“Today is Saturday,” Yumichika repeated, eyes glimmering with amusement.
Shuuhei stared. “So…” he began, slowly, “it’s not… any…”
And then, as Shuuhei apparently caught on, Yumi’s expression turned dazzling. “Nope!”
A beat.
“Why would you do that to me?!” Shuuhei was absolutely horrified.
The fifth seat simply grinned and leaned up to peck Hisagi on the cheek, because he just couldn’t not when he looked at that adorably indignant expression on his lover’s face. “Just a test, darling.”
Shuuhei couldn’t find words.
Yumi laughed. “This has been a test of the emergency boyfriend date-recollection system,” he recited by way of explanation. “And you passed with flying colors. Just like I knew you would.”
Shuuhei blinked. “Wait a minute, so you’re testing me to see if I remember which days aren’t supposed to be important now?!”
“Yup!” Yumichika responded, like it really was that easy and good job on Hisagi-san for finally catching on.
Shuuhei was just about to be severely indignant about that, but before he could, the fifth seat was pulling back and standing up again, stretching happily. “Now finish your breakfast and come help me outside. We’re doing laundry today.”
Yumichika padded out of the room without a backwards glance.
Shuuhei watched him go.
And he thought to himself that he would never ever figure Yumichika out.
Not in a billion years.
He sighed and finished his breakfast.
END
494.
Title: Inflexible
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Kenpachi, Yachiru, Yumichika
Word Count: 413
Warning/s: Spoilers for the end of the SS arc, OOC and weirdness.
Summary: Kenpachi teaches life lessons.
Dedication: requested by yukisuzu.
A/N: The request was: “aluminum foil.” THIS WAS VERY HARD TOO. LOL Sorry yukisuzu! I tried. XD;;
“You gotta be like a rock,” Kenpachi would grunt sometimes, when he was trying to teach Yachiru an important lesson.
“Rocks? How come?” Yachiru asked, and poked at a rock absently with her finger like it was going to reveal the secrets of the universe to her. When it didn’t, she pouted up at Kenapchi and said, “seems kinda boring to me, Ken-chan!”
Zaraki grunted. “Listen dumbass. You gotta be solid. Strong. You punch a fuckin’ rock and it hurts, right? Well, you gotta be like that. Someone tries to punch you, you fuckin’ hurt ‘em back.”
“Oh, okay!” Yachiru said, and got it.
“You gotta be like metal,” Kenpachi would grunt instead sometimes, because metal was tough shit too, just like rocks.
“What, really?” Yachiru asked, and peered down at the jagged edges of Zaraki’s zanpakutou. “Why like metal?”
“Gotta be sharp, gotta be dangerous,” Kenpachi told her. “Don’t bend to nobody else’s will, don’t run away. Be strong.”
“Kay!” she said, like it was that simple.
And it was simple, in its own way. Yumichika however, also happened to think that rocks and metal and whatever other things Kenpachi chose to talk about on certain days (walls, mountains, the ground, etc., etc., etc.), while all ultimately strong things, were all rather inflexible as well.
He didn’t say anything on the matter however, because so far Zaraki’s theories had proved flawless, and whatever kept them alive was what kept them alive. Yumichika didn’t like to quibble on superfluous things like that when there was no point to be made.
But then Kenpachi lost to Ichigo, and Yumichika was never one to turn down an opportunity.
The day after Aizen and company fled seireitei, Yumichika put a roll of aluminum foil on Kenpachi’s desk.
“The hell is that?” Zaraki demanded, and eyed it distrustfully.
“Metal,” Yumichika told him, and smirked.
Kenpachi held it up. It bent in his grasp, but didn’t break.
He stared.
And then tossed it at his subordinate’s head. “Very fuckin’ funny, Yumichika.”
The fifth seat twittered and dodged fluidly. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, taichou.”
The next day, when Yachiru was sitting next to him at his desk, Zaraki sighed and told her, “You gotta be flexible, kid.” His wounds itched.
“What? Why?”
“’Cuz if you don’t fuckin’ learn from your own mistakes then you might as well be dead.”
“Oh, okay!” she replied, like it was as simple as that.
It probably was.
END
495.
Title: Cheap Imitation
Rating: PG-15 for…undertones. LOL
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika
Word Count: 722
Warning/s: Um, possible suggestions of weird kinks and OOC and stupidity. But no spoilers, yay!
Summary: Shuuhei is unreasonably jealous.
Dedication: For sherrymarie! WRITE THIS PAIRING ONE DAY OK? ALSO, this is kind of retarded. LOLZ
A/N: Request was: “jealousy”.
This had to be a new all time low, Shuuhei thought to himself, uncharitably.
He’d been jealous before of course, so that wasn’t exactly new in the strictest sense of the word. He could recall sometimes being jealous of Yachiru, or of Kenpachi and Ikkaku and even Iba on occasion, when he thought about the shared histories they had with Yumichika that he had no part of. Could never have a part of.
It was the worst when the lot of them would sit around telling stories and recounting adventures together and would suddenly break off mid-sentence into peels of uncontrollable laughter, leaving those who hadn’t been there (Shuuhei) hanging, wondering what the second half of that statement was going to be, whether it really was as funny as all that or if it was just another one of those moments where you had to be there to get it.
So Shuuhei wasn’t exactly a stranger to jealousy when it concerned his lover.
But that kind of jealousy-while uncomfortable- wasn’t exactly abnormal, as far as Hisagi was concerned. It was really quite natural in the way that wishful thinking was natural, and he knew that the same could be said with the shared past he had with Kira and Renji and Hinamori, that there were things about his life before Yumichika that Yumichika could understand but would never be able to completely fathom without having been there to witness the events himself.
That was the kind of jealousy he could live with.
But this… this wasn’t like that at all. He suspected that there was definitely something wrong with him, on a fundamental level. Yumichika had done something to him, and he was reacting like this now, which was completely undignified and really rather stupid, when he thought about it. “Would you cut that out, Yumi?” he snapped when he couldn’t take it anymore, and didn’t mean to take that tone with the fifth seat but at the same time, sort of did anyway.
Yumi snickered. “I can’t help it!” the pretty shinigami told him sweetly, and wrapped his arms around his new companion’s neck, nuzzling-nuzzling!-against the newcomer happily. “I think I’m in love.”
Shuuhei glared… at himself.
Sort of.
His gigai blinked mechanically back at him. “How shall I serve you?” the modified soul inside the gigai asked dutifully, after a moment of having its master stare at it and not indicate anything by way of orders.
Possibly the worst thing it could have said given the circumstances, Shuuhei thought, gritting his teeth.
Yumi on the other hand, simply giggled (predictably) at the double entendre. “Service! Oh I like the sound of that. Definitely some potential there, I think. Don’t you agree, Shuu?”
He twitched, and in fact, did not agree at all. “That’s not even funny, Yumi. Cut it out.”
Yumichika ignored him. “Ne, Shyuun,” he purred at the gigai, and hopped up happily into its arms. “Your first order is to take me to bed!” he announced, and shared a look with Shuuhei that the vice-captain couldn’t decipher as completely facetious or horribly serious either way. He hated that about Yumi, sometimes.
The konpact-who had apparently just been named by the fifth seat-nodded obediently at the order. “As you wish.”
Shuuhei bit the inside of his cheek and slowly counted backwards from ten as he watched his gigai carry his twittering lover back towards the bedroom (he only held back because he was sure there were some deeply scarring psychological consequences involved with maliciously killing your own copy out of jealousy).
When he reached one a few minutes later, he took a deep breath and comforted himself with the knowledge that tomorrow, tomorrow he could take the goddamned thing back to the twelfth and ask Akon to make it…uglier. Or something.
In the meantime he thought that maybe he could get away with slightly fewer psychological consequences by maliciously pummeling his gigai unconscious out of jealousy instead of killing it outright.
Yumi might complain about unnecessary acts of violence on such a lovely countenance, but Shuuhei knew that his lover could be quelled by the fact that the real thing gave far better service than any cheap imitations ever could.
Grinning at the thought, he cracked his knuckles and followed them into the bedroom.
END
496.
Title: Convictions
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Komamura, Byakuya
Word Count: 996
Warning/s: Spoilers for the SS arc.
Summary: Komamura’s memories are suspect.
Dedication: for kenmuscle.
A/N: The request was: “bitter work.”
Komamura wasn’t sure which was more painful-looking up at Tousen as the other man betrayed him, or having to sit here and endure this, to recall every moment of friendship and camaraderie between the two of them in an effort to try and determine whether it had all been a lie, that everything from the very beginning had merely been in a step forward in the plot to overthrow seireitei.
Komamura understood that it had to be done, that they had to determine what sort of groundwork had been laid to ascertain whether or not Aizen and his cohorts had set anything else up before their departure that could be used against Soul Society in the upcoming war. It had to be done.
But even still, the large captain felt that this was unendurable.
Kuchiki Byakuya sat across from him as appointed head of the specially created investigation team on the matter, and radiated coolness. “And that was the extent of your first meeting, correct?” he asked, calmly.
“Yes,” Komamura murmured, and though he disliked it, felt his own memories conforming-warping- to this new image of Tousen the betrayer, parts of his mind trying to look back and determine some sort of sign from early on that must have been there, one that would tell him that all of this-his friendship and love of Tousen- had been created solely for that one sinister purpose Aizen had spoke of. Every word, every moment, every touch or smile or shared joy and grief they’d experienced together suddenly became suspect in Sajin’s mind though he did not wish for it. Though he wished that he had stronger convictions than that.
That first time Tousen ran into him-could it have been planned? Kaname had always maneuvered himself flawlessly well despite his handicap, except for perhaps, that one moment, when he had accidentally crashed into the large fox captain many years ago.
It may have not been an accident then, but a way to further the designs of Aizen.
Suspect. It was all suspect, and Komamura hated himself for thinking like he was, for having so little faith.
“Do you suspect, upon reflection, that this was the first step in setting up Tousen’s position in the gotei-13? By befriending you-a warrior with a flawless record of loyalty and obedience to Yamamoto-soutaichou-it might have secured his own reputation as a character beyond suspicion.”
Komamura felt his brow knit as Kuchiki voiced the very thoughts plaguing him. He trained his gaze on the ground between them and tried to think, to be rational despite how painful every moment was. “I… don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose.”
Kuchiki made a note of it.
“Are there any other instances that you can recall that might be suspect?”
No. None of them. All of them. Every one of them.
Komamura sighed. “Not with any guarantee.”
Kuchiki wrote that down, and Komamura knew that he was suspect too, that anyone who had had a close relationship with any of the three traitors would be carefully watched to make sure they harbored no lingering loyalties to those who had become enemies. It was why the ninth, third, and fifth division members who had been left behind were off of active duty, why Komamura’s own division was on limited activity.
Soul Society was on guard.
“Do you believe he befriended you with the intent of recruiting you to their cause?”
Komamura closed his eyes and sighed. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
Byakuya eyed him. “Surely you can’t believe his intentions towards you were completely without pretense.”
Something about that assumption angered him, and he felt his hands fisting at his sides. “No, I don’t believe that his actions were completely without pretense.” And then he looked up, meeting those cool eyes with conviction surprising to even himself. “But I refuse to believe that all I knew of him was false.”
Byakuya looked at him for a moment.
And then put away his notebook. “Off the record,” the sixth division captain began, voice still cool despite an unreadable look in his eye that Komamura had never before seen from the seemingly stone-faced young nobleman. “If you were to face Tousen Kaname now, would you kill him?”
Komamura took a deep, shuddering breath. And after a very long while, answered “No.”
Even if the rest of him could sit here and unwillingly betray his own convictions, he would not compromise that one. It would undoubtedly secure his place as a suspect in this mess-as one of those traps that Aizen and company must have laid long before their departure- but even knowing that, Komamura could not find it in himself to imagine killing someone who had been so dear to him. The rest of seireitei could stamp him an accomplice because of that if it wished, but it was one thing in a heart now full of uncertainties that he knew he could stand behind without faltering.
At his answer, Byakuya studied him for a long moment. And then stood. “Please return to full active duty as of this afternoon, Komamura-taichou.”
The large fox captain stared. He didn’t understand, to be honest. “Kuchiki-taichou… what…”
“Betrayal-any kind of betrayal- is the mark of someone who doesn’t believe in justice,” Byakuya told him, quietly bowing to his senior officer before moving to the door. He paused for a moment in the portal however, and looked briefly back over his shoulder at the clearly mourning seventh division leader. “And for what it’s worth, Komamura-taichou, I also feel that forgiveness is the mark of someone who does.”
A moment of silence.
“Finish mourning quickly,” Byakuya told him then, and his eyes shone with something vaguely like regret. “Then decide what you will do if-or when- you are ordered to kill him. I know from experience that the answer to that won’t come to you as easily as your last.”
Komamura didn’t doubt it.
END
EDITS PLZ.
492.
Title: Not Like You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: lightly GrimmjowxIl Forte
Word Count: 941
Warning/s: Er, spoilers for the first invasion. I don’t remember chapter numbers at this point. Also, OOC out the wazoo. But whatever, it was all I could think of, mkay?
Summary: Grimmjow, Il Forte, and sweets in the human world. Sort of.
Dedication: requested by chrno_crusader. Also for kino_sycthe- Your Grimm will be missed!
A/N: The request was “chocolate bar.” This seriously took forever, LOL. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how the hell they would get a chocolate bar in Hueco Mundo. *dies*
They’d all been thrumming with excitement as they’d drawn nearer and nearer to the human world, each blood thirsty, ready for action, hungry. Grimmjow remembered how D Roy had been grinning and whooping the entire way there, how Forte’s smile had curled into a nasty, beautiful smirk on his face, the blond’s eyes glimmering excitement with each passing second that brought them closer to their targets.
“It’s probably gonna be boring,” Grimmjow remembered telling him on seeing that expression, even though he had to admit that the idiot’s smile had been kind of infectious.
“The real fun can come after,” Forte chuckled breezily, and flipped his long hair back over his shoulder. “The human world seems like such an interesting place, ne?”
Grimmjow snorted. “Don’t listen to Gin’s tall tales like he’s tellin’ the truth there, blondie. Doesn’t say much about your smarts.”
Forte simply sniffed dismissively at that, and Grimmjow really didn’t understand why the hell he let a weak little priss like Il talk back to him the way he did. It wasn’t like him to let people get away with that kind of bullshit.
“The first thing I want to do after I kill my target is eat sweets,” the blond Arrankar told Grimmjow then, like the Espada’s derision regarding Gin’s stories hadn’t counted for squat. Maybe it hadn’t, considering how seriously Forte was taking it all, the little shit.
“Sweets? What the hell kind of retarded goal is that?”
Forte shrugged one shoulder, looking a bit dreamy. “Aizen-sama never lets us have any…”
“Rots the teeth,” Grimmjow agreed, because he’d heard that particular song and dance a thousand times before from their crazy leader. “So what?”
Forte shared a secret look with him then, like he knew something Grimmjow didn’t. “Well… sometimes Gin-sama brings back things and lets me try them when Aizen-sama isn’t looking. I think chocolate is my favorite thing about the human world so far.”
“Choco-what? Sounds fuckin’ retarded.”
Forte twittered. “After you kill your target we can go get some for you to try. I’ll even wait for you.”
Grimmjow glared. He really didn’t know why he let the little fucker talk to him like that, because it really wasn’t like him at all. “Shut the hell up. I’ll be done taking care of my shit a million years before you’ve even started with yours.”
Forte only laughed again, and wasn’t particularly afraid of Grimmjow’s ire (the dumbass). “Mmm, maybe we can try cake too. Gin-sama says it’s delicious.”
Grimmjow sighed. “Whatever. Just concentrate on killing the little bastards first, will ya? We can have all the goddamned chocolate and cake and whatever the fuck you want afterwards.”
Forte smiled at him, sweetly evil. “No problem, boss.”
And then he’d tossed a wink over his shoulder at the sixth Espada, right as their little group finally made it into the human world. It was mission start the moment the doorway closed behind them, and Grimmjow remembered not even turning to look back in Forte’s general direction as they’d each locked onto their targets and split up, moving fast as lightning-exhilarated. He’d been so confident that he’d meet the pretty bastard again afterwards, when they went to go get cake and chocolate and all those other fruity retarded things Forte had been talking about, that he hadn’t even bothered to say anything more to him.
Grimmjow had been so goddamned sure.
And then Forte fought. Lost.
Grimmjow remembered how he’d felt every singly fucking bit of it while the prissy idiot was dying.
He’d snarled out loud at the strange sensation of Forte suddenly not existing anymore, the Espada making an angry fist and breaking apart the ice confining him before chasing after Ichigo and that snow-making bitch who’d popped out of nowhere at the last minute.
And it was in those moments right after Il Forte’s spiritual energy had suddenly blinked out of existence that Grimmjow felt-fleetingly- that nothing was going the way it was supposed to.
Really, that kind of thinking wasn’t like him at all.
Weird.
He’d tried not to dwell on it, to not pay it anymore heed than he ought to have, concentrating on chasing Ichigo and ripping the shinigami’s pathetic little heart out instead.
The original goal.
It wasn’t worth his time to think about the things that no longer lived.
He knew that. It was part of his most basic makeup as an Arrankar to forget about those who were killed, because the weak were ultimately useless and existed only to die by the hands of the strong. Lessons they’d learned all their lives living in Hueco Mundo.
And he knew that he knew those lessons too. He’d learned them well. Had even taught some of them to the others.
But even still-even still- as he chased after Ichigo and Rukia, Grimmjow couldn’t quite hold back the sudden, stray thought that now, now there was a goddamned fucking chocolate bar melting in his pocket and he knew shit all about what to do with it afterwards.
Pissed and confused, he wondered what it was about Forte that made him act like this, why that stupid fucking weak-ass bastard could get away with talking back to him, with making him go and get stupid fucking retarded chocolate bars and actually kind of look forward to sharing them later.
Everything about that wasn’t right- and he knew it.
He knew it.
But even still, as he ran, Grimmjow couldn’t help it when he wondered why Forte made the whole fucking world seem weird without him in it anymore.
Grimmjow knew it wasn’t like him at all.
END
493.
Title: A Test of the Emergency System
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika
Word Count: 995
Warning/s: Stupidity, but no spoilers. XD;;
Summary: Shuuhei might have forgotten something important.
Dedication: requested by whymetoday, and combined with the request by west_side, because I wanted to fit 11 requests into 10 drabbles and this was the only way I could see how. XD Also for pyrefly, because she encouraged me to try and get a Shuumi cult going. I AM TRYING?
A/N: Request one (by whymetoday) was: “early morning breakfast.” Prompt supplied by west_side was: “was there a reason?”
Good breakfast smells and his name being said sweetly woke him up this morning-earlier than usual, if his internal clock had anything to say about it-and blinking blearily, Hisagi Shuuhei’s first conscious vision of the day was Yumichika bouncing into the room with an immaculately prepared breakfast tray full of the vice-captain’s favorite foods.
Shuuhei stared.
“Good morning, Shuu!” Yumichika greeted, and set the tray down in front of him before pressing a kiss to his temple in a sweetly expectant kind of way.
Warning bells rang in Shuuhei’s head. “Mornin’…wow,” he murmured, and while his heart was suddenly going a hundred miles per minute he tried to play it cool.
Yumichika beamed and edged around the bed so he could crawl back in, nuzzling up comfortably against Shuuhei’s chest. “I made your favorites.”
“So I see,” Shuuhei agreed, carefully. He let his arm slip around the fifth seat’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze as he took in the spread before him. “Thanks.”
“None needed,” Yumi assured him, warmly.
And all Shuuhei could think was…shit.
He’d definitely forgotten something. Something important, because there was smoked salmon involved, and yes, those were homemade crepes slathered in the expensive strawberry preserves Yumichika usually only let him use once a week.
He swallowed.
Yumichika pouted at his hesitation. “What, you don’t want it?”
“No, ‘course I do… I was um, just admiring the craftsmanship and stuff. It’s pretty.”
The fifth seat sparkled. “Naturally.”
“Naturally,” Shuuhei agreed, and picked up his fork. He dug in then, eyeing Yumichika surreptitiously as he ate, looking for some sort of clue as to what exactly, it was he was forgetting this morning.
Not Yumichika’s birthday. They’d celebrated that in style. Not his birthday clearly, because Yumichika was obviously waiting for something from him in return. Not the first date anniversary, the first kiss anniversary, the first fight anniversary (he still wasn’t sure why they celebrated that, exactly, besides the fact that Yumi got to gloat about it lots and Shuuhei got sex at the end of the night either way), and it definitely wasn’t the first uh…other things anniversary. No half anniversary he could think of either, though sometimes his math was off.
“Good?” Yumi asked after a moment, and Shuuhei gave a bit of a start when he heard his lover’s voice again, the vice-captain nearly choking on his food. He quickly downed some fresh squeezed orange juice.
“It’s delicious, babe,” he assured Yumi, when he could. “Thanks.”
“I told you already, silly. Today you don’t need to say that to me!”
Fuck. Definitely something big.
Shuuhei gently squeezed Yumi closer against him, tucking the fifth seat’s head under his chin so he could turn slightly leftward, towards the calendar hanging on the wall across the room. It was a bit hard to make out from the distance, but there was an unmistakable red circle around today’s date.
And that was all. Nothing that would indicate why exactly, it was circled. In red.
Incredibly unhelpful. He felt a nervous sweat beginning to gather on his brow, and after a moment or two of blind, white panic, Yumichika began to squirm in steadily increasing grip.
“Not so hard, you’ll mess up my hair,” the fifth seat complained with a little warning nip at Shuuhei’s throat.
“Sorry,” the vice-captain murmured automatically, and loosened his embrace.
“Is something the matter?” Yumi asked carefully, once he’d managed to pull back enough to breathe again. He straightened his hair then, returning it to its previously immaculate state with a few well practiced swipes of his fingers. “I thought maybe I put in too much cinnamon on accident… does it taste bad?”
“No, it’s not that, babe,” Shuuhei assured him. “Uh, it’s just…” he turned to steal one last look at that unhelpful traitor of a calendar, in the hopes that maybe it would see the error of its ways and magically move to supply him with any information on today’s significance. Any at all.
No luck.
He sighed.
And then, after taking a slow, deliberate breath, he prepared to be honest (and subsequently, kicked out of bed for the rest of the week). “It’s just… to be perfectly honest…” he began, guiltily, “I uh… I can’t for the life of me remember what today is, Yumi.”
Yumi blinked up at him.
Shuuhei cringed and waited for the storm.
And then, simply, “Today’s Saturday, silly.”
…wait, what?
Shuuhei wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Wait, what?”
Yumichika smiled, and it was the kind of smile that told Shuuhei that he was really smirking about something.
“Today is Saturday,” Yumichika repeated, eyes glimmering with amusement.
Shuuhei stared. “So…” he began, slowly, “it’s not… any…”
And then, as Shuuhei apparently caught on, Yumi’s expression turned dazzling. “Nope!”
A beat.
“Why would you do that to me?!” Shuuhei was absolutely horrified.
The fifth seat simply grinned and leaned up to peck Hisagi on the cheek, because he just couldn’t not when he looked at that adorably indignant expression on his lover’s face. “Just a test, darling.”
Shuuhei couldn’t find words.
Yumi laughed. “This has been a test of the emergency boyfriend date-recollection system,” he recited by way of explanation. “And you passed with flying colors. Just like I knew you would.”
Shuuhei blinked. “Wait a minute, so you’re testing me to see if I remember which days aren’t supposed to be important now?!”
“Yup!” Yumichika responded, like it really was that easy and good job on Hisagi-san for finally catching on.
Shuuhei was just about to be severely indignant about that, but before he could, the fifth seat was pulling back and standing up again, stretching happily. “Now finish your breakfast and come help me outside. We’re doing laundry today.”
Yumichika padded out of the room without a backwards glance.
Shuuhei watched him go.
And he thought to himself that he would never ever figure Yumichika out.
Not in a billion years.
He sighed and finished his breakfast.
END
494.
Title: Inflexible
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Kenpachi, Yachiru, Yumichika
Word Count: 413
Warning/s: Spoilers for the end of the SS arc, OOC and weirdness.
Summary: Kenpachi teaches life lessons.
Dedication: requested by yukisuzu.
A/N: The request was: “aluminum foil.” THIS WAS VERY HARD TOO. LOL Sorry yukisuzu! I tried. XD;;
“You gotta be like a rock,” Kenpachi would grunt sometimes, when he was trying to teach Yachiru an important lesson.
“Rocks? How come?” Yachiru asked, and poked at a rock absently with her finger like it was going to reveal the secrets of the universe to her. When it didn’t, she pouted up at Kenapchi and said, “seems kinda boring to me, Ken-chan!”
Zaraki grunted. “Listen dumbass. You gotta be solid. Strong. You punch a fuckin’ rock and it hurts, right? Well, you gotta be like that. Someone tries to punch you, you fuckin’ hurt ‘em back.”
“Oh, okay!” Yachiru said, and got it.
“You gotta be like metal,” Kenpachi would grunt instead sometimes, because metal was tough shit too, just like rocks.
“What, really?” Yachiru asked, and peered down at the jagged edges of Zaraki’s zanpakutou. “Why like metal?”
“Gotta be sharp, gotta be dangerous,” Kenpachi told her. “Don’t bend to nobody else’s will, don’t run away. Be strong.”
“Kay!” she said, like it was that simple.
And it was simple, in its own way. Yumichika however, also happened to think that rocks and metal and whatever other things Kenpachi chose to talk about on certain days (walls, mountains, the ground, etc., etc., etc.), while all ultimately strong things, were all rather inflexible as well.
He didn’t say anything on the matter however, because so far Zaraki’s theories had proved flawless, and whatever kept them alive was what kept them alive. Yumichika didn’t like to quibble on superfluous things like that when there was no point to be made.
But then Kenpachi lost to Ichigo, and Yumichika was never one to turn down an opportunity.
The day after Aizen and company fled seireitei, Yumichika put a roll of aluminum foil on Kenpachi’s desk.
“The hell is that?” Zaraki demanded, and eyed it distrustfully.
“Metal,” Yumichika told him, and smirked.
Kenpachi held it up. It bent in his grasp, but didn’t break.
He stared.
And then tossed it at his subordinate’s head. “Very fuckin’ funny, Yumichika.”
The fifth seat twittered and dodged fluidly. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, taichou.”
The next day, when Yachiru was sitting next to him at his desk, Zaraki sighed and told her, “You gotta be flexible, kid.” His wounds itched.
“What? Why?”
“’Cuz if you don’t fuckin’ learn from your own mistakes then you might as well be dead.”
“Oh, okay!” she replied, like it was as simple as that.
It probably was.
END
495.
Title: Cheap Imitation
Rating: PG-15 for…undertones. LOL
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika
Word Count: 722
Warning/s: Um, possible suggestions of weird kinks and OOC and stupidity. But no spoilers, yay!
Summary: Shuuhei is unreasonably jealous.
Dedication: For sherrymarie! WRITE THIS PAIRING ONE DAY OK? ALSO, this is kind of retarded. LOLZ
A/N: Request was: “jealousy”.
This had to be a new all time low, Shuuhei thought to himself, uncharitably.
He’d been jealous before of course, so that wasn’t exactly new in the strictest sense of the word. He could recall sometimes being jealous of Yachiru, or of Kenpachi and Ikkaku and even Iba on occasion, when he thought about the shared histories they had with Yumichika that he had no part of. Could never have a part of.
It was the worst when the lot of them would sit around telling stories and recounting adventures together and would suddenly break off mid-sentence into peels of uncontrollable laughter, leaving those who hadn’t been there (Shuuhei) hanging, wondering what the second half of that statement was going to be, whether it really was as funny as all that or if it was just another one of those moments where you had to be there to get it.
So Shuuhei wasn’t exactly a stranger to jealousy when it concerned his lover.
But that kind of jealousy-while uncomfortable- wasn’t exactly abnormal, as far as Hisagi was concerned. It was really quite natural in the way that wishful thinking was natural, and he knew that the same could be said with the shared past he had with Kira and Renji and Hinamori, that there were things about his life before Yumichika that Yumichika could understand but would never be able to completely fathom without having been there to witness the events himself.
That was the kind of jealousy he could live with.
But this… this wasn’t like that at all. He suspected that there was definitely something wrong with him, on a fundamental level. Yumichika had done something to him, and he was reacting like this now, which was completely undignified and really rather stupid, when he thought about it. “Would you cut that out, Yumi?” he snapped when he couldn’t take it anymore, and didn’t mean to take that tone with the fifth seat but at the same time, sort of did anyway.
Yumi snickered. “I can’t help it!” the pretty shinigami told him sweetly, and wrapped his arms around his new companion’s neck, nuzzling-nuzzling!-against the newcomer happily. “I think I’m in love.”
Shuuhei glared… at himself.
Sort of.
His gigai blinked mechanically back at him. “How shall I serve you?” the modified soul inside the gigai asked dutifully, after a moment of having its master stare at it and not indicate anything by way of orders.
Possibly the worst thing it could have said given the circumstances, Shuuhei thought, gritting his teeth.
Yumi on the other hand, simply giggled (predictably) at the double entendre. “Service! Oh I like the sound of that. Definitely some potential there, I think. Don’t you agree, Shuu?”
He twitched, and in fact, did not agree at all. “That’s not even funny, Yumi. Cut it out.”
Yumichika ignored him. “Ne, Shyuun,” he purred at the gigai, and hopped up happily into its arms. “Your first order is to take me to bed!” he announced, and shared a look with Shuuhei that the vice-captain couldn’t decipher as completely facetious or horribly serious either way. He hated that about Yumi, sometimes.
The konpact-who had apparently just been named by the fifth seat-nodded obediently at the order. “As you wish.”
Shuuhei bit the inside of his cheek and slowly counted backwards from ten as he watched his gigai carry his twittering lover back towards the bedroom (he only held back because he was sure there were some deeply scarring psychological consequences involved with maliciously killing your own copy out of jealousy).
When he reached one a few minutes later, he took a deep breath and comforted himself with the knowledge that tomorrow, tomorrow he could take the goddamned thing back to the twelfth and ask Akon to make it…uglier. Or something.
In the meantime he thought that maybe he could get away with slightly fewer psychological consequences by maliciously pummeling his gigai unconscious out of jealousy instead of killing it outright.
Yumi might complain about unnecessary acts of violence on such a lovely countenance, but Shuuhei knew that his lover could be quelled by the fact that the real thing gave far better service than any cheap imitations ever could.
Grinning at the thought, he cracked his knuckles and followed them into the bedroom.
END
496.
Title: Convictions
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Komamura, Byakuya
Word Count: 996
Warning/s: Spoilers for the SS arc.
Summary: Komamura’s memories are suspect.
Dedication: for kenmuscle.
A/N: The request was: “bitter work.”
Komamura wasn’t sure which was more painful-looking up at Tousen as the other man betrayed him, or having to sit here and endure this, to recall every moment of friendship and camaraderie between the two of them in an effort to try and determine whether it had all been a lie, that everything from the very beginning had merely been in a step forward in the plot to overthrow seireitei.
Komamura understood that it had to be done, that they had to determine what sort of groundwork had been laid to ascertain whether or not Aizen and his cohorts had set anything else up before their departure that could be used against Soul Society in the upcoming war. It had to be done.
But even still, the large captain felt that this was unendurable.
Kuchiki Byakuya sat across from him as appointed head of the specially created investigation team on the matter, and radiated coolness. “And that was the extent of your first meeting, correct?” he asked, calmly.
“Yes,” Komamura murmured, and though he disliked it, felt his own memories conforming-warping- to this new image of Tousen the betrayer, parts of his mind trying to look back and determine some sort of sign from early on that must have been there, one that would tell him that all of this-his friendship and love of Tousen- had been created solely for that one sinister purpose Aizen had spoke of. Every word, every moment, every touch or smile or shared joy and grief they’d experienced together suddenly became suspect in Sajin’s mind though he did not wish for it. Though he wished that he had stronger convictions than that.
That first time Tousen ran into him-could it have been planned? Kaname had always maneuvered himself flawlessly well despite his handicap, except for perhaps, that one moment, when he had accidentally crashed into the large fox captain many years ago.
It may have not been an accident then, but a way to further the designs of Aizen.
Suspect. It was all suspect, and Komamura hated himself for thinking like he was, for having so little faith.
“Do you suspect, upon reflection, that this was the first step in setting up Tousen’s position in the gotei-13? By befriending you-a warrior with a flawless record of loyalty and obedience to Yamamoto-soutaichou-it might have secured his own reputation as a character beyond suspicion.”
Komamura felt his brow knit as Kuchiki voiced the very thoughts plaguing him. He trained his gaze on the ground between them and tried to think, to be rational despite how painful every moment was. “I… don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose.”
Kuchiki made a note of it.
“Are there any other instances that you can recall that might be suspect?”
No. None of them. All of them. Every one of them.
Komamura sighed. “Not with any guarantee.”
Kuchiki wrote that down, and Komamura knew that he was suspect too, that anyone who had had a close relationship with any of the three traitors would be carefully watched to make sure they harbored no lingering loyalties to those who had become enemies. It was why the ninth, third, and fifth division members who had been left behind were off of active duty, why Komamura’s own division was on limited activity.
Soul Society was on guard.
“Do you believe he befriended you with the intent of recruiting you to their cause?”
Komamura closed his eyes and sighed. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
Byakuya eyed him. “Surely you can’t believe his intentions towards you were completely without pretense.”
Something about that assumption angered him, and he felt his hands fisting at his sides. “No, I don’t believe that his actions were completely without pretense.” And then he looked up, meeting those cool eyes with conviction surprising to even himself. “But I refuse to believe that all I knew of him was false.”
Byakuya looked at him for a moment.
And then put away his notebook. “Off the record,” the sixth division captain began, voice still cool despite an unreadable look in his eye that Komamura had never before seen from the seemingly stone-faced young nobleman. “If you were to face Tousen Kaname now, would you kill him?”
Komamura took a deep, shuddering breath. And after a very long while, answered “No.”
Even if the rest of him could sit here and unwillingly betray his own convictions, he would not compromise that one. It would undoubtedly secure his place as a suspect in this mess-as one of those traps that Aizen and company must have laid long before their departure- but even knowing that, Komamura could not find it in himself to imagine killing someone who had been so dear to him. The rest of seireitei could stamp him an accomplice because of that if it wished, but it was one thing in a heart now full of uncertainties that he knew he could stand behind without faltering.
At his answer, Byakuya studied him for a long moment. And then stood. “Please return to full active duty as of this afternoon, Komamura-taichou.”
The large fox captain stared. He didn’t understand, to be honest. “Kuchiki-taichou… what…”
“Betrayal-any kind of betrayal- is the mark of someone who doesn’t believe in justice,” Byakuya told him, quietly bowing to his senior officer before moving to the door. He paused for a moment in the portal however, and looked briefly back over his shoulder at the clearly mourning seventh division leader. “And for what it’s worth, Komamura-taichou, I also feel that forgiveness is the mark of someone who does.”
A moment of silence.
“Finish mourning quickly,” Byakuya told him then, and his eyes shone with something vaguely like regret. “Then decide what you will do if-or when- you are ordered to kill him. I know from experience that the answer to that won’t come to you as easily as your last.”
Komamura didn’t doubt it.
END
EDITS PLZ.