[Bleach] Kissu, desu
LJ's formatting is being wonky again. Bah. It's a pain because the texts are not aligned correctly and I'm anal about things like that. UGH.
Hmm, two nights ago, I made the best roast chicken EVAR. So damn proud, because finally watching Food TV pays. <33
I've been writing this piece for several days. It's the longest Bleach fic I've ever tried and I hope I got their characters right. I will always feel that writing a wall of dialogues is my number one weakness, because there's so many things that can go wrong.
Beside this, I'm also working on a multichapter Bleach/One Piece crossover. It's two-thirds done. Will post the first chapter soon. :D
After that, the Hirumamo fantasy. XD
Title: Kissu, desu
Author: ranier
Series: Bleach
Rating: 13+
Character(s): Iba, Hiisagi, Abarai, Hanatarou, Ikkaku, and Yumichika
Summary: In which Hanatarou has a question and everybody tries to answer, until finally Yumichika shows them how it’s done.
A/N: I’m a big fan of IkkaYumi, so many not-so-subtle hints, yeah?
“The best kisser?” Iba Tetsuzaemon said. “Why, it’s me!”
Hanatarou furrowed his burrows. He didn’t think so, please. At least, that wasn’t what he’d heard from the ladies of fourth division. They were more likely to describe Iba-san as a slobbering puppy instead of the Romeo he thought he was. But telling the fukutaichou of the seventh division that meant digging his own grave.
So, no. Hanatarou decided to be smart.
“What do you think, Abarai-san? Is that true?” he threw the question to the tattooed officer.
Abarai Renji looked surprised being asked suddenly. “Eh?” He sneered. “It’s impossible, it’s impossible. This guy’s here is dreaming. I’m the best kisser around here!”
Iba was incensed. “Watch out your mouth, punk! I bet I get more kisses than you do!”
“That’s because you steal them, Iba-san,” Hiisagi Shuuhei piped good-naturedly.
Iba grunted. “I’m not listening to the guy who lost to that eleventh division’s pansy.”
“Shut up.”
“Oi, Iba. Give him a break,” Abarai chided. “That fifth seat might’ve done something to him.”
“Yeah, like kissed him!” Iba bellowed at his own joke, and instantly Abarai followed suit much to Hiisagi’s dismay. Their raucous laughter echoed throughout the empty teahouse.
Hanatarou was curious. “Is that true, Hiisagi-san?”
The fukutaichou of the seventh division blushed furiously. “NO!” Then he turned to his two buddies. “Look what you’ve put into his head!”
Amidst the laughter, Abarai managed to say, “That’s because,” he wheezed, “you always turn red whenever we talk about that fifth seat.”
“It’s not what you think!” Hiisagi cried. “I don’t turn red, do I?” he asked Hanatarou.
Torn between honesty and survival, Hanatarou kept his silence. He decided that looking stupid was the only way he could escape the situation.
Hiisagi groaned while Iba and Abarai continued rolling on the floor, clutching their stomachs. “I told you so, I told you so!” Abarai chanted.
“Oi, oi, what’s going on here?” a voice suddenly said. The shaved head of one Madarame Ikkaku showed up from the other side of the window.
“Ikkaku! Come in, come in. Hanatarou here has an interesting question,” Iba said, gesturing for the third seat to enter. Abarai was still pounding the floor with his fist, but now Hiisagi was trying to smother him dead with Hanatarou’s medical bag.
“Eh? The best kisser?” Ikkaku blinked after Iba told him. “In the whole Rukongai?”
“It’s me, right?” Iba exclaimed. “I knew it!”
Ikkaku cringed. “Not a chance. Rangiku-san said you kiss like a frog.”
Iba paled. “W-what?”
Now it was Hiisagi’s turn to guffaw, his attempt to asphyxiate Abarai suddenly forgotten. The sixth division’s fukutaichou, who previously had been trying to control his laughter, doubled over with new mirth. He couldn’t get up from the floor, as much as he tried.
“So, it’s me?” Hiisagi finally asked Ikkaku, wiping tears from his eyes.
Ikkaku crossed his arms. “Well, the closest thing to a kiss you got is the peck on the cheek Hinamori gave you last month.”
The teahouse exploded with booming laughter. Abarai was now officially stuck to the floor, trying to catch the elusive breath and panting as he twitched right and left in glee. Iba roared loudly, pointing shamelessly at the pissed Hiisagi. “A peck! A peck! Hahaha!”
“It’s not! It’s not!” Hiisagi said, salvaging what was left of his reputation.
“And no,” Ikkaku said, “before you ask, Renji, you’re not it, either.”
Abarai, however, was too busy struggling to hold his internal organs in place to care. That left Hanatarou scratching his head in confusion. If it weren’t those three, then he might have to search again.
Ikkaku looked at him. “Why do you wanna know in the first place, anyway?”
“Umm, I-I,” Hanatarou stammered. “I’m curious, that’s all.”
Ikkaku smirked. “If that’s the case, then I’ll just tell you. It’s Rangiku-san. She’s really good, especially when she’s drunk.”
“Which is not often enough!” Iba interrupted. Abarai nodded appreciatively. He had managed to calm himself, although the hiccups won’t go away soon. Seeing that they were pretty much dehydrated from all the laughing and puffing, Hanatarou poured all of them tea.
“So, it’s Matsumoto-san…” Hanatarou began. “But, um, I’m looking for the best male kisser, Madarame-san.”
For a moment nobody spoke. The place became eerily silent and the only sound existing was Hanatarou’s nervous breathing.
“Male? Male?” Iba asked.
“Why?” Abarai wanted to know. “Did somebody put you up to this?”
“It must be the Ladies Association,” Hiisagi said quickly. “They just had their meeting last Tuesday.”
“No, no! You’ve gotten it wrong!” Hanatarou said, panicking. He didn’t want anybody else to be involved, especially not the Ladies Association. He twiddled his fingers. “I-it’s my own intention…”
“Then why?” Ikkaku asked. “It’s kinda strange to suddenly ask who the best male kisser around here is, don’t you think?”
“Yo, yo, Ikkaku’s right. That’s just too strange!” Iba commented.
“Suspicious!” Abarai agreed, gulping his tea.
“And potentially dangerous,” Hiisagi said, rubbing his chin. “Who knows what may be at stake?”
“If it’s a girl who asks, I won’t mind helping her find out,” Iba said.
“But if it’s you, Hanatarou,” Hiisagi said, “then we must ask, what are you planning to do?”
The fourth division officer dropped his head and mumbled incoherently.
“What was that?” Ikkaku asked, obviously enjoying his discomfort.
Hanatarou mumbled something again.
“Oi, speak up or I’ll beat you up!” Iba threatened. He swung his teacup in front of Hanatarou’s face, spraying his victim with hot tea.
“Ow, ow, h-hot!”
“Iba, you jerk. You scald his face!” Ikkaku said. Both Abarai and Hiisagi gave evil glares to the perpetrator, who somewhat managed to look apologetic enough.
Hanatarou used his sleeve to wipe the liquid off. “I-it’s okay, I don’t ge-”
He froze.
The fragrance came out of nowhere. A strike to the senses, it promised fluttering petals in breezy days, exotic jungles, and wild days. It was also something that mercilessly assaulted the nostrils of those who viewed baths as something unnecessary, and sent their aroma-overloaded brains into frenzy.
Iba fainted.
Abarai shivered and Hiisagi blushed very deep red. Hanatarou wondered why he couldn’t move; his limbs felt so heavy and languid, and all he wanted was to close his eyes. What kind of poison is this? he thought.
Only Ikkaku was unaffected. “Oh, it’s you. Should’ve known,” he greeted the newcomer.
“Saw you walking in here and thought I’d drop by,” Yumichika said.
The feather-brow officer sashayed into the teahouse and took his place next to his bald partner, after brushing the dirt off the mat. Abarai trembled violently and, if it was possible, Hiisagi turned purple after Yumichika flashed him a brilliant smile. Iba was a goner on the mat, frothing in the mouth.
“What happened to them?” Yumichika said, flicking his hair.
“It’s your perfume,” Ikkaku answered. “You should stop spraying jasmine all over your uniform.”
“But it fits my mood today.”
Ikkaku rubbed his shaved head. “Fine. They’ll get used to it soon, anyway.” There was no point arguing with Yumichika on the matter. He’d always lose.
Hanatarou opened his eyes. Not poison? Oh, good. He wouldn’t have to die before his question could be answered.
Yumichika poured himself some tea. “What are you doing here?” he asked Ikkaku.
“Hanatarou has a question. I’m not sure I can answer it, though,” Ikkaku said, looking thoughtful.
“Oh? That’s something new,” Yumichika said casually, sipping his tea.
Ikkaku swore softly under his breath. He could never tell if Yumichika was insulting or complimenting him. Maybe one of these days he should ask him directly, but then it would show his ignorance. Whatever. He’d just pretend that he didn’t hear it.
Ikkaku dropped the bomb. “He wants to know who’s the best male kisser around.”
Yumichika put his cup down and sighed. “You made it sound like some weird animal.”
“What? The best male kisser?”
“Yes.”
“That’s because it’s weird! I don’t even know why this kid wants to know!” Ikkaku gestured at Hanatarou, who was watching the pair with mixed trepidation and awe. A movement behind him indicated that Iba was stirring awake. Abarai and Hiisagi helped him up, splashing cooled tea on his face.
“Hmm. I don’t think it’s weird at all.” Yumichika turned his gaze to Hanatarou. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking about it?”
Hanatarou straightened up immediately. Yumichika instilled inside him a greater sense of reverence than the other guys combined. Perhaps it was because he wore feathers and didn’t give a whiff about what people were saying behind his back, or perhaps because he didn’t think that Hanatarou was a moron for asking.
“It’s for comparison,” Hanatarou answered truthfully.
“Oh, my.”
Ikkaku was confused. “For what? What can he possibly compare?”
Yumichika coughed a little and waved Hanatarou to come closer. The seventh seat obeyed while Ikkaku protested and got ignored splendidly. Yumichika grabbed one of Hanatarou’s ear and whispered into it, “You do not want to discuss such a sensitive matter with these people, you hear?”
Hanatarou gulped and nodded.
“What are you two whispering?” Hiisagi wanted to know. His complexion had begun to turn normal again, but he still looked a bit flushed around the neck.
“Ugh-” Iba moaned. “What the hell happened?”
“Yumichika came,” Ikkaku answered, deadpan.
“It ain’t normal,” Abarai said, shaking his head. “That smell. I thought my nose would fall off-”
Yumichika snapped. “Will you all please be quiet while I’m trying to teach Hanatarou here?!”
“Oi, fifth seat shouldn’t disrespect us,” Iba said, slightly slurring.
Ikkaku winced. He predicted a cold battle coming up. That wasn’t a very wise thing to say. Hiisagi knew it too, his face said all.
But to their surprise, Yumichika only shrugged his shoulder delicately. There were prettier methods for revenge, in his opinion. “Come here, Hanatarou,” he called.
“Eh? O-okay, Ayasega-”
He was effectively silenced by a very involved kiss. Hanatarou had never experienced something like it. His senses were becoming alarmingly sharp, taking all into his being-the feel of their lips, the scent of jasmine that lingered, and the sound of their breathings. All he could think of at that moment was how weak his knees were. It was a good thing he was sitting down, otherwise-
-oh, but it was quite different, he suddenly realized-
-from the other kiss last night, the one that had shattered his perception and left him confused, the one who led him into this situation…
Without his noticing, the kiss had ended.
Yumichika wiped his mouth. “How was it?”
Before Hanatarou could gather his thoughts, however, Ikkaku angrily came between them and screamed his lungs out at his partner, “What the hell, what the hell did you just do?”
Iba and Abarai looked positively ill, each had their hands covering their mouths. Only Hiisagi looked fine, except for the trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“I’m teaching the kid, Ikkaku,” Yumichika replied. “Honestly.”
“You KISSED him, you prick!”
Yumichika smiled coyly. “Jealous?”
“N-no!” Ikkaku sputtered. “Just don’t do that in front of me,” he added quickly.
“Fine.” Yumichika turned to Hanatarou. “How was it? Was it what you’d expected?”
Slowly Hanatarou shook his head. He blinked several times, trying to put thoughts into words. “It…it was different,” he said, “but it felt good.”
Yumichika was smug. “Of course. I’m very experienced, you see.”
“But it’s different from the other one!” Hanatarou cried. “How can it be different?”
“Which one do you like better?” Yumichika asked.
Hanatarou knew the answer immediately. “T-the other one…” he mumbled. “Sorry.”
Ikkaku hit his head with the hilt of Houzukimaru. “Idiot,” he scolded Hanatarou. “There’s no need to apologize. His ego’s big enough as it is.”
“You should thank me, though,” Yumichika said. “Now, have you seen the light?”
“Huh?” Hanatarou was kind of slow with metaphors.
“Huh?!” Ikkaku too.
“Listen, the only way a kiss from somebody else can be better than mine,” Yumichika said, tapping his chest, “is because you like that person, regardless of the gender.” His tone left no room for discussion that it might not be true. “Understand?”
Hanatarou nodded, unsure of himself.
In the background Iba retched violently. Yumichika smirked at the sound. Revenge was revenge after all, no matter how ugly and disgusting the result was.
Abarai tugged at Ikkaku’s sleeve and said, “Is this what you have to put up everyday?”
Ikkaku nodded. “He can be worse.”
“I wonder how you manage,” Hiisagi said, wiping the blood off his face. “Must be hard, especially in the eleventh.”
“Remind me never to be alone in a room with Ayasegawa,” Abarai said. “I’ll go bankai if he ever tries that on me.”
Hiisagi scoffed. “He may whip your ass before you know it.”
“Tche, you’re just a sore loser, Shuuhei.”
“How rude. I can hear you talking, you know,” Yumichika said. He scooted closer to the other two and leaned forward. “Wanna try?” he offered.
Abarai went berserk and crawled backwards in a record speed. “NOOO-!” He slammed the wall spectacularly.
“Don’t joke around,” Hiisagi said, covering his mouth. “Some idiots may take you seriously.”
“Who’s the idiot?!” Abarai’s pained voice cried.
Ikkaku snickered. “Renji, you still have a lot to learn.”
“I can teach you too,” Yumichika said, shocking Abarai and successfully reducing his lifespan by twelve years. “If only you aren’t so helpless.”
Only the combined effort of Hiisagi and Ikkaku could stop the red-head from attacking the pretty fifth.
A tap on Yumichika shoulder made him turn around. It was Hanatarou, looking as if he had something to say.
“Want more?” Yumichika asked, lifting Hanatarou’s chin.
“Hands off, hands off!” Ikkaku shrieked. “Stop corrupting the poor kid!”
Hanatarou stared blankly. Then he remembered what he was going to say. “No, no more kiss.” Ikkaku let out a relieved sigh. “But thank you for the lesson, Ayasegawa-san,” Hanatarou continued shyly, “I’ve decided to tell that person how I feel.”
“Ah, the god of love and beauty strikes again,” Yumichika said. He took a fan out and started fanning himself. “I am so good.”
Ikkaku cussed fluently.
“Now, all you have to do is practice kissing,” Yumichika instructed Hanatarou. “As often as possible.”
“Really?”
“Of course, that’s how I got to be so competent at it.” Yumichika beamed, full of overflowing wisdom. “Get a good partner to practice and you’ll be set for life.”
“What kind of partner?”
“The one you like, silly.”
“Oh, okay.” Hanatarou, trying to memorize all the points, nodded. He would never get this chance of being taught by the master twice, he thought.
“Who do you practice with, Ayasegawa-san?”
Yumichika glanced at Ikkaku. The bald shinigami shook his head, mouthing threatening words and gesturing how dead Yumichika was going to be if he divulged that information in public.
Yumichika raised one feathered brow. What will you do? He smirked the way only blackmailers could do.
Ikkaku gritted his teeth. Anything, he mouthed.
The smile Yumichika sent in his direction was dazzling.
Ikkaku coughed.
“Don’t ask me that,” Yumichika told Hanatarou. “And I won’t ask who this person you like is, okay?”
Hanatarou understood. “All right.”
Yumichika stood up and dusted off his uniform. “Good! My job here is done.” He fixed his coiffeur and tidied his feathers. To Ikkaku he simply said, “Coming?”
Grumbling, the bald officer followed suit.
“See ya,” he said to his buddies.
Left alone, the original occupants of the teahouse didn't know what to say. Hanatarou, deciding that Iba-san should absolutely stop retching for his own good, mixed him an herb tea.
While the other two, Hiisagi and Abarai, stared at each other.
...
And decided to erase whatever had happened that particular afternoon from their memories.
Hmm, two nights ago, I made the best roast chicken EVAR. So damn proud, because finally watching Food TV pays. <33
I've been writing this piece for several days. It's the longest Bleach fic I've ever tried and I hope I got their characters right. I will always feel that writing a wall of dialogues is my number one weakness, because there's so many things that can go wrong.
Beside this, I'm also working on a multichapter Bleach/One Piece crossover. It's two-thirds done. Will post the first chapter soon. :D
After that, the Hirumamo fantasy. XD
Title: Kissu, desu
Author: ranier
Series: Bleach
Rating: 13+
Character(s): Iba, Hiisagi, Abarai, Hanatarou, Ikkaku, and Yumichika
Summary: In which Hanatarou has a question and everybody tries to answer, until finally Yumichika shows them how it’s done.
A/N: I’m a big fan of IkkaYumi, so many not-so-subtle hints, yeah?
“The best kisser?” Iba Tetsuzaemon said. “Why, it’s me!”
Hanatarou furrowed his burrows. He didn’t think so, please. At least, that wasn’t what he’d heard from the ladies of fourth division. They were more likely to describe Iba-san as a slobbering puppy instead of the Romeo he thought he was. But telling the fukutaichou of the seventh division that meant digging his own grave.
So, no. Hanatarou decided to be smart.
“What do you think, Abarai-san? Is that true?” he threw the question to the tattooed officer.
Abarai Renji looked surprised being asked suddenly. “Eh?” He sneered. “It’s impossible, it’s impossible. This guy’s here is dreaming. I’m the best kisser around here!”
Iba was incensed. “Watch out your mouth, punk! I bet I get more kisses than you do!”
“That’s because you steal them, Iba-san,” Hiisagi Shuuhei piped good-naturedly.
Iba grunted. “I’m not listening to the guy who lost to that eleventh division’s pansy.”
“Shut up.”
“Oi, Iba. Give him a break,” Abarai chided. “That fifth seat might’ve done something to him.”
“Yeah, like kissed him!” Iba bellowed at his own joke, and instantly Abarai followed suit much to Hiisagi’s dismay. Their raucous laughter echoed throughout the empty teahouse.
Hanatarou was curious. “Is that true, Hiisagi-san?”
The fukutaichou of the seventh division blushed furiously. “NO!” Then he turned to his two buddies. “Look what you’ve put into his head!”
Amidst the laughter, Abarai managed to say, “That’s because,” he wheezed, “you always turn red whenever we talk about that fifth seat.”
“It’s not what you think!” Hiisagi cried. “I don’t turn red, do I?” he asked Hanatarou.
Torn between honesty and survival, Hanatarou kept his silence. He decided that looking stupid was the only way he could escape the situation.
Hiisagi groaned while Iba and Abarai continued rolling on the floor, clutching their stomachs. “I told you so, I told you so!” Abarai chanted.
“Oi, oi, what’s going on here?” a voice suddenly said. The shaved head of one Madarame Ikkaku showed up from the other side of the window.
“Ikkaku! Come in, come in. Hanatarou here has an interesting question,” Iba said, gesturing for the third seat to enter. Abarai was still pounding the floor with his fist, but now Hiisagi was trying to smother him dead with Hanatarou’s medical bag.
“Eh? The best kisser?” Ikkaku blinked after Iba told him. “In the whole Rukongai?”
“It’s me, right?” Iba exclaimed. “I knew it!”
Ikkaku cringed. “Not a chance. Rangiku-san said you kiss like a frog.”
Iba paled. “W-what?”
Now it was Hiisagi’s turn to guffaw, his attempt to asphyxiate Abarai suddenly forgotten. The sixth division’s fukutaichou, who previously had been trying to control his laughter, doubled over with new mirth. He couldn’t get up from the floor, as much as he tried.
“So, it’s me?” Hiisagi finally asked Ikkaku, wiping tears from his eyes.
Ikkaku crossed his arms. “Well, the closest thing to a kiss you got is the peck on the cheek Hinamori gave you last month.”
The teahouse exploded with booming laughter. Abarai was now officially stuck to the floor, trying to catch the elusive breath and panting as he twitched right and left in glee. Iba roared loudly, pointing shamelessly at the pissed Hiisagi. “A peck! A peck! Hahaha!”
“It’s not! It’s not!” Hiisagi said, salvaging what was left of his reputation.
“And no,” Ikkaku said, “before you ask, Renji, you’re not it, either.”
Abarai, however, was too busy struggling to hold his internal organs in place to care. That left Hanatarou scratching his head in confusion. If it weren’t those three, then he might have to search again.
Ikkaku looked at him. “Why do you wanna know in the first place, anyway?”
“Umm, I-I,” Hanatarou stammered. “I’m curious, that’s all.”
Ikkaku smirked. “If that’s the case, then I’ll just tell you. It’s Rangiku-san. She’s really good, especially when she’s drunk.”
“Which is not often enough!” Iba interrupted. Abarai nodded appreciatively. He had managed to calm himself, although the hiccups won’t go away soon. Seeing that they were pretty much dehydrated from all the laughing and puffing, Hanatarou poured all of them tea.
“So, it’s Matsumoto-san…” Hanatarou began. “But, um, I’m looking for the best male kisser, Madarame-san.”
For a moment nobody spoke. The place became eerily silent and the only sound existing was Hanatarou’s nervous breathing.
“Male? Male?” Iba asked.
“Why?” Abarai wanted to know. “Did somebody put you up to this?”
“It must be the Ladies Association,” Hiisagi said quickly. “They just had their meeting last Tuesday.”
“No, no! You’ve gotten it wrong!” Hanatarou said, panicking. He didn’t want anybody else to be involved, especially not the Ladies Association. He twiddled his fingers. “I-it’s my own intention…”
“Then why?” Ikkaku asked. “It’s kinda strange to suddenly ask who the best male kisser around here is, don’t you think?”
“Yo, yo, Ikkaku’s right. That’s just too strange!” Iba commented.
“Suspicious!” Abarai agreed, gulping his tea.
“And potentially dangerous,” Hiisagi said, rubbing his chin. “Who knows what may be at stake?”
“If it’s a girl who asks, I won’t mind helping her find out,” Iba said.
“But if it’s you, Hanatarou,” Hiisagi said, “then we must ask, what are you planning to do?”
The fourth division officer dropped his head and mumbled incoherently.
“What was that?” Ikkaku asked, obviously enjoying his discomfort.
Hanatarou mumbled something again.
“Oi, speak up or I’ll beat you up!” Iba threatened. He swung his teacup in front of Hanatarou’s face, spraying his victim with hot tea.
“Ow, ow, h-hot!”
“Iba, you jerk. You scald his face!” Ikkaku said. Both Abarai and Hiisagi gave evil glares to the perpetrator, who somewhat managed to look apologetic enough.
Hanatarou used his sleeve to wipe the liquid off. “I-it’s okay, I don’t ge-”
He froze.
The fragrance came out of nowhere. A strike to the senses, it promised fluttering petals in breezy days, exotic jungles, and wild days. It was also something that mercilessly assaulted the nostrils of those who viewed baths as something unnecessary, and sent their aroma-overloaded brains into frenzy.
Iba fainted.
Abarai shivered and Hiisagi blushed very deep red. Hanatarou wondered why he couldn’t move; his limbs felt so heavy and languid, and all he wanted was to close his eyes. What kind of poison is this? he thought.
Only Ikkaku was unaffected. “Oh, it’s you. Should’ve known,” he greeted the newcomer.
“Saw you walking in here and thought I’d drop by,” Yumichika said.
The feather-brow officer sashayed into the teahouse and took his place next to his bald partner, after brushing the dirt off the mat. Abarai trembled violently and, if it was possible, Hiisagi turned purple after Yumichika flashed him a brilliant smile. Iba was a goner on the mat, frothing in the mouth.
“What happened to them?” Yumichika said, flicking his hair.
“It’s your perfume,” Ikkaku answered. “You should stop spraying jasmine all over your uniform.”
“But it fits my mood today.”
Ikkaku rubbed his shaved head. “Fine. They’ll get used to it soon, anyway.” There was no point arguing with Yumichika on the matter. He’d always lose.
Hanatarou opened his eyes. Not poison? Oh, good. He wouldn’t have to die before his question could be answered.
Yumichika poured himself some tea. “What are you doing here?” he asked Ikkaku.
“Hanatarou has a question. I’m not sure I can answer it, though,” Ikkaku said, looking thoughtful.
“Oh? That’s something new,” Yumichika said casually, sipping his tea.
Ikkaku swore softly under his breath. He could never tell if Yumichika was insulting or complimenting him. Maybe one of these days he should ask him directly, but then it would show his ignorance. Whatever. He’d just pretend that he didn’t hear it.
Ikkaku dropped the bomb. “He wants to know who’s the best male kisser around.”
Yumichika put his cup down and sighed. “You made it sound like some weird animal.”
“What? The best male kisser?”
“Yes.”
“That’s because it’s weird! I don’t even know why this kid wants to know!” Ikkaku gestured at Hanatarou, who was watching the pair with mixed trepidation and awe. A movement behind him indicated that Iba was stirring awake. Abarai and Hiisagi helped him up, splashing cooled tea on his face.
“Hmm. I don’t think it’s weird at all.” Yumichika turned his gaze to Hanatarou. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking about it?”
Hanatarou straightened up immediately. Yumichika instilled inside him a greater sense of reverence than the other guys combined. Perhaps it was because he wore feathers and didn’t give a whiff about what people were saying behind his back, or perhaps because he didn’t think that Hanatarou was a moron for asking.
“It’s for comparison,” Hanatarou answered truthfully.
“Oh, my.”
Ikkaku was confused. “For what? What can he possibly compare?”
Yumichika coughed a little and waved Hanatarou to come closer. The seventh seat obeyed while Ikkaku protested and got ignored splendidly. Yumichika grabbed one of Hanatarou’s ear and whispered into it, “You do not want to discuss such a sensitive matter with these people, you hear?”
Hanatarou gulped and nodded.
“What are you two whispering?” Hiisagi wanted to know. His complexion had begun to turn normal again, but he still looked a bit flushed around the neck.
“Ugh-” Iba moaned. “What the hell happened?”
“Yumichika came,” Ikkaku answered, deadpan.
“It ain’t normal,” Abarai said, shaking his head. “That smell. I thought my nose would fall off-”
Yumichika snapped. “Will you all please be quiet while I’m trying to teach Hanatarou here?!”
“Oi, fifth seat shouldn’t disrespect us,” Iba said, slightly slurring.
Ikkaku winced. He predicted a cold battle coming up. That wasn’t a very wise thing to say. Hiisagi knew it too, his face said all.
But to their surprise, Yumichika only shrugged his shoulder delicately. There were prettier methods for revenge, in his opinion. “Come here, Hanatarou,” he called.
“Eh? O-okay, Ayasega-”
He was effectively silenced by a very involved kiss. Hanatarou had never experienced something like it. His senses were becoming alarmingly sharp, taking all into his being-the feel of their lips, the scent of jasmine that lingered, and the sound of their breathings. All he could think of at that moment was how weak his knees were. It was a good thing he was sitting down, otherwise-
-oh, but it was quite different, he suddenly realized-
-from the other kiss last night, the one that had shattered his perception and left him confused, the one who led him into this situation…
Without his noticing, the kiss had ended.
Yumichika wiped his mouth. “How was it?”
Before Hanatarou could gather his thoughts, however, Ikkaku angrily came between them and screamed his lungs out at his partner, “What the hell, what the hell did you just do?”
Iba and Abarai looked positively ill, each had their hands covering their mouths. Only Hiisagi looked fine, except for the trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“I’m teaching the kid, Ikkaku,” Yumichika replied. “Honestly.”
“You KISSED him, you prick!”
Yumichika smiled coyly. “Jealous?”
“N-no!” Ikkaku sputtered. “Just don’t do that in front of me,” he added quickly.
“Fine.” Yumichika turned to Hanatarou. “How was it? Was it what you’d expected?”
Slowly Hanatarou shook his head. He blinked several times, trying to put thoughts into words. “It…it was different,” he said, “but it felt good.”
Yumichika was smug. “Of course. I’m very experienced, you see.”
“But it’s different from the other one!” Hanatarou cried. “How can it be different?”
“Which one do you like better?” Yumichika asked.
Hanatarou knew the answer immediately. “T-the other one…” he mumbled. “Sorry.”
Ikkaku hit his head with the hilt of Houzukimaru. “Idiot,” he scolded Hanatarou. “There’s no need to apologize. His ego’s big enough as it is.”
“You should thank me, though,” Yumichika said. “Now, have you seen the light?”
“Huh?” Hanatarou was kind of slow with metaphors.
“Huh?!” Ikkaku too.
“Listen, the only way a kiss from somebody else can be better than mine,” Yumichika said, tapping his chest, “is because you like that person, regardless of the gender.” His tone left no room for discussion that it might not be true. “Understand?”
Hanatarou nodded, unsure of himself.
In the background Iba retched violently. Yumichika smirked at the sound. Revenge was revenge after all, no matter how ugly and disgusting the result was.
Abarai tugged at Ikkaku’s sleeve and said, “Is this what you have to put up everyday?”
Ikkaku nodded. “He can be worse.”
“I wonder how you manage,” Hiisagi said, wiping the blood off his face. “Must be hard, especially in the eleventh.”
“Remind me never to be alone in a room with Ayasegawa,” Abarai said. “I’ll go bankai if he ever tries that on me.”
Hiisagi scoffed. “He may whip your ass before you know it.”
“Tche, you’re just a sore loser, Shuuhei.”
“How rude. I can hear you talking, you know,” Yumichika said. He scooted closer to the other two and leaned forward. “Wanna try?” he offered.
Abarai went berserk and crawled backwards in a record speed. “NOOO-!” He slammed the wall spectacularly.
“Don’t joke around,” Hiisagi said, covering his mouth. “Some idiots may take you seriously.”
“Who’s the idiot?!” Abarai’s pained voice cried.
Ikkaku snickered. “Renji, you still have a lot to learn.”
“I can teach you too,” Yumichika said, shocking Abarai and successfully reducing his lifespan by twelve years. “If only you aren’t so helpless.”
Only the combined effort of Hiisagi and Ikkaku could stop the red-head from attacking the pretty fifth.
A tap on Yumichika shoulder made him turn around. It was Hanatarou, looking as if he had something to say.
“Want more?” Yumichika asked, lifting Hanatarou’s chin.
“Hands off, hands off!” Ikkaku shrieked. “Stop corrupting the poor kid!”
Hanatarou stared blankly. Then he remembered what he was going to say. “No, no more kiss.” Ikkaku let out a relieved sigh. “But thank you for the lesson, Ayasegawa-san,” Hanatarou continued shyly, “I’ve decided to tell that person how I feel.”
“Ah, the god of love and beauty strikes again,” Yumichika said. He took a fan out and started fanning himself. “I am so good.”
Ikkaku cussed fluently.
“Now, all you have to do is practice kissing,” Yumichika instructed Hanatarou. “As often as possible.”
“Really?”
“Of course, that’s how I got to be so competent at it.” Yumichika beamed, full of overflowing wisdom. “Get a good partner to practice and you’ll be set for life.”
“What kind of partner?”
“The one you like, silly.”
“Oh, okay.” Hanatarou, trying to memorize all the points, nodded. He would never get this chance of being taught by the master twice, he thought.
“Who do you practice with, Ayasegawa-san?”
Yumichika glanced at Ikkaku. The bald shinigami shook his head, mouthing threatening words and gesturing how dead Yumichika was going to be if he divulged that information in public.
Yumichika raised one feathered brow. What will you do? He smirked the way only blackmailers could do.
Ikkaku gritted his teeth. Anything, he mouthed.
The smile Yumichika sent in his direction was dazzling.
Ikkaku coughed.
“Don’t ask me that,” Yumichika told Hanatarou. “And I won’t ask who this person you like is, okay?”
Hanatarou understood. “All right.”
Yumichika stood up and dusted off his uniform. “Good! My job here is done.” He fixed his coiffeur and tidied his feathers. To Ikkaku he simply said, “Coming?”
Grumbling, the bald officer followed suit.
“See ya,” he said to his buddies.
Left alone, the original occupants of the teahouse didn't know what to say. Hanatarou, deciding that Iba-san should absolutely stop retching for his own good, mixed him an herb tea.
While the other two, Hiisagi and Abarai, stared at each other.
...
And decided to erase whatever had happened that particular afternoon from their memories.