Fanfiction Dump
I finally figured out how to do a fake cut! I figured the best way to start would be to dump all of my stuff here and go on from there. The Undermining series will stay at Aizenichi for a while and then get dumped here when it's completed. Now I just have to work on livejournal getting rid of my italics and bold.
Title: Sword of Zangetsu
Rating: PG13?
Pairings/Characters: Urahara/Ichigo/Aizen triangle (implied, barely), Isshin/Yoruichi, Kurosakis and Shoten mentions.
Warnings: Might not be understood unless you've seen Rocky Horror Picture Show
Word Count: 300
Ichigo was beyond words that Halloween. Hot and Clogs, Yoruichi, and his father had a wonderful idea for a big family costume theme! So after watching the movie- which he guiltily admitted that he enjoyed, he found out his character and hell was realized.
Karin, Yuzu, Ururu, Jinta, and Tessai got off easy. His sisters and Tessai just had to wear tuxes with bright accents and a maid/butler ensemble for the other two. Even Isshin had a decent costume, a leather jacket and rocker get up.
Then there was Yoruichi- or in Isshin speak, "YA NEW MAMA". Somehow she squeezed herself into a sultry, glittery corset and jacket in bedazzled sequins, striped short shorts and dancing shoes. She was even tap dancing.
"Awww....isn’t Ichi-kun having a good time? I know I am!" And Urahara was draped over him. In stockings, a green corest, man panties and that hat. He was a "sweet" transvestite.
Sweet my ass.
"At least you costume was easy to put on, eh?"The gold material that barely hide his crotch was all he had on. And some eyeliner.
"SHUT UP!" Listening to Yoruichi and the goat making out was bad enough but he was nearly naked in this shop of crazies.
To be fair, he was getting in character. He couldn’t wait til he got to drive someone insane. Specifically Rukia and Renji. Especially them. And somebody was here?
"Hey, there’s a light over at Kisuke’s place." Ichigo decided that he wanted to die by Seireitei execution- otherwise he’d still have this humiliation in the afterlife. Ichimaru, dressed like Aizen(dorky glasses and all), Tousen in a wheel chair, and Aizen in a freaken dress had come to visit.
Aizen looked over at me and only muttered a few words-
"Well, if it isn’t a creature of the night."
Just kill me. Please.
Title: Euthanasia
Characters: Ichigo, Isshin, Kisuke, Rukia, Shunsui
Rating: PG
Word Count: 834
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. That honor belongs to Tite Kubo.
Summary: She called it a mercy, her captain called it a failure.
“To best explain the events that occurred on that notable day, we must acknowledge one and only one truth- At Five AM, Kon used Ichigo’s throat as a step stool. That is all.
---
It was not unusual for Ichigo to feel stiff when waking up, not much time to stretch while facing arrancar, you see. But this particular morning, roughly 7 am, was the worst by far.
To his amazement, Ichigo did not feel like he had to go to the bathroom as was his usual morning ritual but that too passed. After a shower which did nothing to help his stiffness he proceeded to do his weekly shave- heaven forbid he end up like the goat.
Only after he washed off the rest of the shaving scream that he noticed a shallow cut near his nose that was not bleeding at all. He finally decided that something was wrong. Razor cuts have this magical ability to bleed for hours on end. On top of all that he was still chilly even after a nice, hot shower. Ichigo went downstairs in his pajamas. So he tried the simplest thing he could think of and pressed one finger to the bridge of his nose. Nothing helping.
The spirits did not foresee him going to school. That and his fingers were going slightly numb.
“Hey dad! I need- “ Ah. Normality. Ichigo found himself unable to fight back that morning but managed to get the final kick in. His attention was brought back to the subject when his elbow did have that satisfying “pop” of muscles fixing themselves.
“Dad?”
“What my obnoxiously strong progeny?”
“I think something’s wrong with me.” Karin and Yuzu were dressed and ready for school by them. They tsk-ed him for not having clothes. Isshin had been going light on him after they both came clean about the shinigami but not on the girls. But hey, he was the one facing these psychos every night. They just had to deal with the goat.
“Did you poke your forehead?”
“Yeah, nothing.” The goat’s eyes widened in surprise- he was taking it seriously now. Then his eyes gleamed.
“DADDY CHECK UP TIME!” Well, kinda serious. They were in the room and Isshin spent a few minutes listening to his son’s heartbeat. The only problem was that it was quiet. That and the numbness was spreading from his toes and fingers up his arms and legs.
“Hey dad?”
“…yes?”
“Am…am I dead?”
“….I think so?” They synched together for a moment when a look of disturbed curiosity washed over them and ended there. Ichigo called Urahara and Isshin started crying to Masaki. The wailing only got louder when after all these years the poster finally slipped from off the wall.
---
Kisuke was very happy that the Kurosaki’s let him see this. Ichigo was one of his favorite projects- a living soul that became a vizard, and now he was dead/dying.
You don’t get this kind of quality set up often.
“Can’t he just pop himself out of the body and go into a gigai?” Sometimes the family resemblance was astounding- the kid was good enough to replace a missing Gotei but neither one of them even thought of that. Weirdos. He bobbed Isshin on the head.
“No! Don’t you listen?! Ichigo’s soul chain was completely eroded away- he might be a plus, a shinigami, or a hollow.” You see, there was another problem. Some souls didn’t want to leave their bodies and that is why the soul candies were invented. Ichigo’s body had become to used to the soul filtering in and out that it didn’t acknowledge its death. Funny, really.
“Well what do you suggest? I can’t stay in this body and eventually I’m going to have to fight the arrancar again.” He sighed.
“You’re right. To the training grounds.” And so they went. And Ichigo was propelled out of the dead body.
In the form of a masked lizard with orange hair.
“Oh fuck!”
“Well you can always be an arrancar and hope your hole and mask are discreet…”
“MASAKI! OUR SON IS A HOLLOW!”
---
It is really for this panel to decide, would killing Ichigo Kurosaki really be murder? Or would it be a mercy? “ Rukia had finished her presentation with a slideshow of her best friend, the arrancar, dealing with Isshin and Kisuke Urahara all day long.
“Thank you Miss Kuchiki. Now this is a request from the entire organization?” The captains were on her side- they’d worked with both of those men too.
“Sadly this is out of my jurisdiction. The Euthanasia request for Ichigo Kurosaki is voided.” Yamamoto dismissed the girl as Jushiro just growled and tossed a pile of papers angrily behind him, all labeled “Vice Captain Request Form”.
Shunsui just snorted into his sake and wondered what would happen if Ichigo ever found out that Kon had accidentally killed him because kind, gentle, and compassionate Jushiro Ukitake set it up. A soft huff was heard as his friend whined to the Commander.
Title: Being Blind
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Chizuru
Word Count: 567
Disclaimer: I own nothing affiliated with Bleach
She knew what it was like being different from the rest of her classmates but for the first time in her life, Chizuru wished she was a little stranger. Admittedly her class was very odd and accepting of others but there were still some solid truths. It made the other girls a little twitchy about her being a lesbian, with the exception of Tatsuki and Orihime. Rukia later on as well.
It was only natural that she felt a bit closer to them then the others. Tatsuki and Orihime were her best friends, admit it or not, and she’d known Keigo since they were in elementary. It was natural to partner with Ichigo for poetry(He and Sado were probably the only guys she trusted Orihime with.) or with Mizuru for a history assignment. They were friends.
Until a few months ago.
Orihime, Ichigo, and Sado made themselves distant along with that Ishida kid before disappearing all together. The rest of the class seemed to have gotten over it already except for Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuru. They were more upset then anything about being left alone and without any warning. It hurt her too, but they took it the worst. And then it started happening again. Those three came in with injuries that no High Schooler should be getting and they too were missing school more and more often.
It all ended over Ice-cream, of all things. The three of them were so worn out but perked up as soon as this strange man with clogs on his feet came over.
“It’ll be longer then we thought. Yammamoto is dead.” Whoever this guy was, they knew of him apparently, since Keigo screamed and Tatsuki paled. It was still hard to gauge Mizuru’s reactions but he seemed upset too.
“Chizuru… we need to go do something. Promise you we’ll be back as soon as we can.” Chizuru snorted and took their left-overs.
“Yeah, whatever. Your Chocolate Supreme is mine, Tatsuki.” There was a lopsided grin and she ran off with the others guys.
Its junior year and no one seems to remember their most vibrant classmates. None of them made it back to school and their parents don’t seem to even notice. Chizuru knew, she asked around. It hurt the most when the group photos for the yearbook were being taken and her group, those idiots, weren’t even there.
‘You were all upset that you couldn’t follow and you leave me here. Did you guys just forget me already?’
The night before senior year ends, Chizuru had a visitor in her dreams that she hadn’t had for years- Orihime. She didn’t change a bit but wore such a dark color and the message was just like her too. Ichigo was a Captain of soul reapers while Tatsuki is having the time of her life as a member of Soi Fong’s division. Chad fights for the 8th while Keigo and Mizuru was finishing their last year of school. Orihime smiled and said that she was happy and that she was a third seat under Hitsugaya, the temporary transfer from a few years ago.
“Close your eyes Chizuru-chan. You don’t deserve to lose us yet.” There was a heat, like when a camera goes off, but over the entire city it seemed.
The next day when her friends never existed, Chizuru doesn’t cry. She’s got a man with clogs to find.
Title: Afterparty
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or anythign affiliated.
Summary: Ikkaku looks over that the 3rd and 5th Divisions and wanders back into the 11th.
Words: 657
There really weren’t too many complications with being who he was. Ikkaku spent his life in the higher districts of the Rukongai where fighting was a means of living. Some of the more stuffy shinigami in the Seireitei thought that was a despicable mindset, but he was in the 11th Division.
There one job was to fuck the hollows up. The Captains certainly weren’t complaining and they were all good at it. Even the bottom of the barrel in their division made it out alive in most cases, a few idiots not withstanding.
Still there was that stigma against the 11th division that made everyone think they were monstrous, murderous people. To be fair nearly every person in the Guards feared Zaraki, but only the smarter ones feared the Vice Captain. They knew pure evil when they saw it.
For Ikkaku life continued on. Beat up the 4th, beat up hollows, get beat up by Zaraki; and then get beat up/ proceed to beat up Kurosaki got added into the mix. It was only for about three days that they were an enemy but the 11th division and all the “monsters” responded better then anybody else and we’re given a lot of slack…for siding with the Ryoka in the end.
Ikkaku knew that they should have been given hell for that but more problems came up and the “real monsters” decided to show up- the arrancar. The other divisions weren’t so lucky this time. The 9th was okay since Tousan wasn’t loved so much, but the 3rd and 5th still refused to believe that heir beloved captains were evil. They weren’t so popular now but the were holding up.
For a few months the 11th division was as normal as everybody else while fighting the hollow that dared to get shinigami powers. He feels a little ashamed to admit it but it felt a little good to be respected rather then feared. Iba was the yakuza wanna-be, not him.
It wasn’t enough to stop him and the rest of the 11th from getting drunk off their asses after Aizen died. The reasons weren’t clear but Ichigo and the people at the Shoten had something to do with it. It didn’t matter cause they were together in this.
“Oi! Kurosaki, what the hell? Why are you leaving your own party?” He wasn’t even in party clothes- did he own anything other then the uniform? Ichigo wasn’t looking so hot either. He’d been released a few days ago with a warning not to fight so much, but no he was pale and sweating a lot.
“…Ikkaku, could you do me a favor?”
“Sure, what? Heh, want somebody to watch Kuchiki for you while you run off with his sister?” The kid was silent and Ikkaku started choking on his drink.
“Seriously?!”
“No. But don’t just tell everybody that I went to bed. I… I don’t think you’re all fucked up, and you know you and all the others that you’re all okay, right?” He was stammering a bit and rushed off.
Ikkaku really didn’t get what the emergency meeting was about the next day when everybody had hangovers. The Captain-Commander started speaking to the main players in the Winter War.
“It seems as if we have once again been deceived. The former substitute shinigami, Ichigo Kurosaki, has been found out to be a vizard- a shinigami…with hollow powers. Central has decided to finally eliminate this problem, so any contact with the Ryoka are forbidden. You are to arrest them on sight with the expectation of Kurosaki and Inoue.”
Most of the crowd let out a sigh, but several of the captains tensed.
“They are to killed on sight. You are all dismissed.” Ikkaku felt like a monster for the first time in his entire life. It wasn’t a nice feeling at all.
At the canteen people gave him fearful space again, the same with Yamada, and still with Matsumoto.
Title : The Miserable Life of the Undead
Rating : PG13
Word Count : 955
Characters : Ulquiorra
Warnings : requres a sense of humor, especially against the Emo culture.
Summary : In his final moments with Orihime, Ulquiorra remembers his death.
Disclaimer : I don't own bleach or anythign affiliated.
"Hearts? You humans are always talking about hearts. It’s as if you have them in your hand. But my eye sees everything. Nothing can escape it. What it doesn’t see doesn’t exist. That’s how I’ve always fought. What is a heart? If I rip open your chest will I see it? If I crack open your skull will I find it in there?"
Oh hell, he did it again. This was precisely the reason he choose not to speak unless absolutely necessary. It was also possibly the reason he detested humans so much and realized what absolute trash they were. TRASH!
Ulquiorra sighed and wondered if the girl picked up on the speech pattern. Maybe not. She seemed absolutely insane and out of touch with any and all realities. No one understood the problem- understood him. They didn’t know what trash really lived in the human world.
He could still remember the events of his death and of the start of his afterlife, even if his human memories were foggy at best. The torture he endured had been perfectly clear and long lasting. No, no arguments. It had been nothing but unholy torture.
Contrary to his power and status, he hadn’t been a hollow for long but all the anger and reckless rage had been a good method for his rapid progression. He had died almost happily. There was no tremendous pain, no heartbreak, it was all an accident. Wet ground, a few careless papers in the park and a cracked skull at the bottom of a hill underneath a walking bridge. For two years he sat there, capable of watching the beauty of the seasons change even though he was chained to that very spot. It was beautiful enough to not be bitter about his death and just wait for himself to move on.
Then it started....and they came. It was maddening. They came in drunken droves of black and bad make-up, of ill used metal and obscure tastes. And the music, oh the music.
‘Crawllling in my skiiin
‘ we’re going down-down in a earlier round, and sugar we’re going down swingin’’
It never ended. There was always at least once self deluded teenager who thought his life sucked and that death was the only real answer. But the fact is, they never actually killed themselves. They just put make-up on and the ridiculous clothes. Ulquiorra shuddered at the memory of tight black jeans with pins stuck in them.
A few months in there was a brief reprieve when one of the normal people screamed at the "emos" to stop smoking their pot. Sometimes he swore they were able to see him and just did it to drive him insane, personally.
"My life... its not worth living! My cat hates me, I got a C on my biology test. Mother switched to decaf in the mornings- they don’t get it! Every night I’m haunted by these terrible people in the world. I’m me! My own person, why else would I dress like this? I don’t belong to those normal people with their crowds and trends. I think Cindy’s going to break it off with me, but its alright since me and Greg have been gay together for a while. Miffles, my cat, still hates me. She coughed up a hair ball on my signed MCR poster.”
Years. That rubbish went on for years, and he had to deal with the fact that his loved ones were going to be taken care of by this psuedo-suicidal fake ass TRASH. It all came to a head one night.
" doesn’t she know that with my one last dying breathe I’d apologize..."
"There chains of my life burden me with unimaginable woe and misery!"
Dimly, he remembered snapping and pulling what was left oh his chain off his chest and ripping the boy to pieces while eating his soul. In a few months he had hunted down every last one of the "emos" that ruined his afterlife and came close to damning the world to ruin.
In a scarily short amount of time he had become an adjuchas. Then he had met Aizen and it was like a glorious breath of that fresh air he used to love. The man was confident and emotionally guarded. He had no idea what the other man thought and that was enough for him.
His arrancar form, however, made him a believer in Epic Karma. White. His skin was an alabaster white that no human make-up could mimic and his hair was a mess. To add to his wonderful second life, tear tracks ran down from his face.
It was irony- he had become what he hated but he continued on knowing that Aizen would not allow The Emos to live.
And then it happened. There are currently only four former Espada (the privions) left thanks to him. The remaining six... they had the audacity. It hurt more then any blade and he had spent the rest of the night trembling in a corner near Tousan (though he suspected that Tousan was borderline Emo as well, the others wouldn’t go near him).
They called him emo-car.
And now he stood there, unconsciously spewing the words the Trash of earth had driven into his head with there methodological torture and unprivate angst.
He’d hate himself for it but he wouldn’t give them that victory. He wouldn’t. Kurosaki chose then to crash into the room and his ears twitched. He heard it.
‘Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentlemen and maybe he won’t find out what I know, you were the last good thing this side of town’
Kurosaki had inadvertently brought background music. He had to die. Now.
Title: Happy Home Maker
Character: Yuzu/Kon
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach or anything affiliated.
Summary: Sometimes it was nice to know that someone was always going to be there with her, eating her food, and being a general annoyance.
Although by the end of the Winter War Yuzu had come into her powers and would be more than fitting as a shinigami, she didn’t want it. It took a lot of convincing, a heartfelt good-bye to Karin, almost monthly check up by Ichigo, and beating her father into submission before they let her live out her life in Karakura Town. Without them. It was strange when she met up with her sister again, her still looking thirteen while she was pushing nineteen, Ichigo not looking all that much older was a bit creepy too. And it wasn’t like she was living on her own like Orihime or Uryu either, her dad made her live with his friend Ryuuken until recently when she got her own apartment close to the train station.
Still she went back to his home a least once a week to make dinner. The cold man wouldn’t admit it but he was lonely. Otherwise she spent her time balancing school work and her televison show, as odd as that sounded.
Yuzu smiled to herself when she thought about the Karakura Superheros segment of the Ghost Bust program. That was where she really got her start in everything, and nine years and one cooking school later she has her own cooking program on Wednesday evenings at 5:05.
"Yuzu! What’s for dinner tonight?" An arm slung around her shoulder much to the annoyance of the male population of her home room. Apparently they were not used to having someone relatively famous and tragic in their class but they got used to it. She couldn’t keep track of the mothers who were hoping that one of their sons would snag her- she was a fairly old fashioned woman if you thought out it. But it wasn’t any human arm around her and she knew the feel of a gigai.
One that was taller than her but not overly so. Short brown hair like a lion’s mane and a nice beyond healthy tan and he had a few too many features like her brother to be comfortable.
"What the hell does the new guy think he’s doing!" Technically she didn’t know the guy who was beyond rude and extremely forward, but she knew. Did he know that she knew? Midori snatched her away to the other side of the room.
"Yuzu, do you know that guy?"
"He’s...yeah I know him." He didn’t think so however, as he introduced himself as Kon Kaiichi.
---
"You know, this is really bad. Little girls shouldn’t be bringing almost perfect strangers, even one as attractive as me, to their house." That didn’t stop him from walking into the apartment and lounging on the couch. He was wearing Ichigo’s clothes too- well they had to go somewhere, right?
"So... that body new," he spewed a little of his drink out and stared at me.
"...or have you been working at it for years?" He laughed and said that something as marvelous as him could only be sculpted by a master. Urahara must have made the gigai then.
He ate the meal loving every bite of it and it was nice again. Sure people praised her cooking and even the harsh judges never had too much negative to say, but it was like he was expecting all of the flavors to be how they were for almost a decade. They weren’t perfect strangers at all.
Despite his warning about leading ‘men’ into her house he made himself awfully cosy at her side- she was sure he groped her ass at least once- and made no intention to leave even after 10 pm.
"You see? This is why you don’t just invite guys in. You’re hot looking, you can cook, why they’ll just stay. Duh little Yuzu." He rolled his eyes and she punched his arm and he pouted.
"What was that for?!"
"Oh just stop it and say you miss me already. Seriously Kon? You think I wouldn’t notice, Boss Tuff?"
"You knew!"
"Well of course, I know. I can’t mistake my Boss Tuff anywhere!" Yuzu hugged and pushed him into the couch, laying on top of his for the entire night.
---
"Yuzu," Midori began. "I know that you’re still healing from your family’s death... but your boyfriend isn’t good for you." She snuck a peek at the Kaiichi running around declaring himself a Yuzu fan since her first premier on Ghost Bust, dressed like a modern yakuza. While wearing the proper school attire, of course.
"You’re wrong Midori." Yuzu was glad that someone wanted to live life with her before dying and fulfilling some sacred duty. She wanted someone to go crazy while she was doing nothing more than cutting carrots, or heaming his always ripping jeans.
"Yuzu, watch me dive out the widow!" Boss Tuff was worth making that apartment cozy for two.
And it was a plus, too, that Ichigo and her father couldn’t technically kill a mod soul. A girl had to keep these things in mind.
Title: Cruelty
Characters: Hiyori Sarugaki, Sousuke Aizen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything affiliated.
“How do you stand it? I’d kill myself if I were in your shoes with that… with that freaken retard in charge! Does he always make you do stupid shit like his laundry?”
“It really is not…difficult, but thank you for your concern Sarugaki-fukutaicho. And for the help.”
“Peh, call me Hiyori ‘pecially around Shinji cuase it’d drive him up the wall. Need some more red dye in your barrel?”
“Hmm, no thank you. Perhaps this will teach him. He is very much a fool.”
“You say something Sousuke?”
“No, nothing of importance.”
“S’all right but call me next time. I want to be there to see you screw that beaver toothed bastard over.”
“I’m sure you will be Hiyori-fukutaicho.”
Title: Olympia
For: Vayshti
What: Nemu likes it rough. Yuri or Het
Words: 585
Pairing: slight Nemu/Hiyori
Rating: M
Warning:Crushing kink. Takes place before the Hueco Mundo arc.
Summary: Nemu fails at spying.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything affiliated
She’d felt so many things done to her body before that sometimes it was a distant haze. There really wasn’t any sort of release from anything. The toxins and antidotes and bindings in her body wouldn’t allow for any sort of deviant behavior to work. Rangiku’s sake or the pain medication Unohana sometimes gives her do nothing at all. Only Captain and Akon knew the hollowest parts of her body and the real ones, completely out of usefulness. But her body wasn’t numb and she was still a shinigami. That was why she had been picked to spy on the Vizards: her lack of a corruptible soul.
It wasn’t due to any sort of purity but the essential of her being were all synthetic- maybe sometimes it would be easier to refer to herself as a compote doll than a shinigami. Nemu wasn’t even able to hide herself being a gigai and nothing more. She should have seen the sandal sailing in her direction.
“Watch it, bitch!” Someone so tiny slammed into her and forced them off of the top of the warehouse into one of the alleyways. Nemu reached for her sword at once only to find it being held by the stranger. Or not stranger, a vizard. The little thing walked towards her with a cocky sluanter that wouldn’t have seemed strange to a melee fighter, projected sandal in one hand and her sword in the other.
She had pig tails in her hair. Nemu had tried that once only to have her father smash her face down and crop it all off.
“My name is Kurotsuki Nemu from the...” Her eyes glinted somehow and before it could be registered a foot was on her.
She couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. That petite heel dug and dislodged her jaw and pressed so perfectly on her cheekbone. Gravel on floor dug into her other cheek but the so perfect so wonderful force on her face and head made her pant.
“The fucks the matter with you!? Don’t you have any modesty! I don’t want to know that you’re a baldy!” The vizard girl jumped away. It sounded like when those perverts got off on their porn. The short skirt she had been wearing road up to her waist during the fall, leaving pretty much everything out in the open for the vizard to see, with no hair to obscure anything.
“Close you’re legs you whore!”
“Pl-please I just...” The crushing on her head came back before leaving again. It wasn’t like the other pains she’s felt, more erotic than anything else. Then she started seeing spots.
“AHHH!UGH AH!” Her hips thrusted upwards when the lightning went through her body all starting from her head, as if the shinigami was performing a soul burial. Her fingertips and toes felt numb and her chest went way past its regulated temperature, getting worse and worse each time the tiny girl shifted her weight a little and continued to crush face into the ground.
Nemu didn’t think anymore heat could pool between her legs or on her face or that her breasts could feel much heavier and the foot left her face only to slam down in undainty footsteps down her spine.
“Ohh...”
“Che, you’re a gigai aren’t you? I’ll fix that.” Past the sweat stinging her eyes and the white flashes, she saw the finger come closer until they grazed around her neck giving her just one more moment of perfect tension. All was then lax.
Title: Tom Sawyer
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes Ichigo has to follow him into the dirtiest parts of the world.
Notes: can take place before the manga or anytime during it, but I'm thinking beforehand.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or anything affiliated.
It was worth noting that for once, Ichigo blended in with the crowd or even seemed rather tame for it. It was and wasn’t his scene if you get the picture, but Chad needed somebody here for him and that forty minute train ride was worth surprising him. When the music was playing, at least, Ichigo could pretend it was a somewhat decent place rather than a one step away from falling apart dive.
“YEAH IT’S MINE!” And clearly there were other people like Keigo all around the world and not just for his own personal torture. A few of the stoners that took a break from their corner invaded the stage and started digging around the old inventory while the next band-Chad’s band- set up. Thank god. When Ichigo had first walked in he remembered instantly why he despised most local bands. Their covers of some of his favorite songs were so god awful it made him cringe, even if the echoing walls did do something to mellow it out.
A ripping sound was heard over the radio break, dimly relating to a Rush song but it was impossible to tell through the chatter and static and set up.
“Holy Shit it’s like a pinata!” Another ripping sound and with a thump, something landed on Ichigo’s lap. A stuffed camel head that looked like it had seen better days.
“Hey, mind if we have that or do, you know, want it as souvenir or something?” One of the girls came over and she looked like she could fuck somebody up with all the metal she had on. Better to avoid her during a mosh pit than to take a chance. Like it was diseased he picked it up by the ear with two fingers and gave it to her, some of the fluff and styrofoam balls falling onto the floor trough the torn neck. More fell out after she punted it to her circle of friends.
The amps were clicked on and before anybody else could Ichigo ran to the front of the depopulated stage, sporting a tee shirt with the band’s logo. The people next to him were elbowed away as Mina, the girlfriend of the band’s frontman, saddled up next to him in the same shirt. She smiled and in unison they started screaming to draw more people over.
Finally out of the moth eaten curtain Chad popped out and like a pro didn’t once look into the crowd, just setting about his business. Like finding where his pic was.
“OI CHAD!” Ichigo had managed to scream loud enough and fought the laugh at Chad’s face. He was clearly shocked at seeing his friend here. Half climbing on Ichigo passed him one of the many pics Chad had left at his house, fingers only brushing when Chad’s hand overshot the tiny plastic piece. Underneath his bangs there was a small grin and a blush on his cheeks- the pic was tiger printed.
For Chad, Ichigo didn’t mind loosing his pride every now and then. Mostly by thrashing with Mina and getting the crowd going for the band. A half an hour passed and the crowd dispersed while the next band came to set up. Jumping up and down mindlessly might seem easy but the room was very hot and the sweat stuck to Ichigo’s brow. Even by the end there Chad’s hair was getting stringy from being wet with sweat. Parking back into his seat by a hole in the wall, Chad walked over looking exhausted.
“It was a great show.”
“I didn’t really expect you to come all the way out here...nobody else from Karakura really came. Why?” They were really close, mostly because the bench was lopsided and Chad’s large frame was slowly sliding down.
“Being there for another person isn’t a one sided thing, got it? Geez and thought you’d be quiet for this instead of being a pain in the ass.” He looked away and Ichigo’s cheeks were red from the heat, not because of anything else.
For a moment it was quiet around them and Chad smiled at his friend. Until his elbow went through the dried plaster of the wall and getting it stuck.
“This was a closing concert. The building’s being condemned.” Ichigo brushed off the plaster from both of them.
“Never would have guessed.”
Title: Duck or Swim
Rating: PG
Words: 1117
Notes: Takes place after/during Bleach the Beach
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach or anything affiliated.
Summary: Urahara does not like this Tetsu, not one bit.
For once Kisuke knew that he wasn’t getting odd looks about his clothing, since he knew he looked good for the beach, even if his trunks were slightly too stiff from disuse and he traded in his jacket for a much lighter one.
"Oh? Is the sand contest over already?" All in all it was a beautiful day out well spent with some old friends. So what if they got there a few hours later than intended, it was still good. Soi Fong managed to get a bathing suit on Yuroichi that didn’t hide too much but it was better than straight up nudity.
"Yeah apparently the third seats from Ukitake’s division won. The Kuchuki’s are little upset." Really, he had to admire Soi Fong stoicism at watching her former captain arch into the sand without even flinching.
"And where is Kurosaki-kun? His mop of hair isn’t anywhere near there."
"He left for the boardwalk." A dismissal? Surely she jested. A coy smile followed. "I think Abarai might be with him."
"Better make sure he doesn’t get into trouble then!" Sometimes he though his oldest friend knew way more than she should.
It wasn’t that difficult to find out where his student was even if he hadn’t been to this beach before. That reiastu of his was screaming for people to find him. They should probably work on that soon or as soon as he could without accidently tearing more of the boys clothes than necessary. Ichigo wasn’t dumb but even the not so bright would realize he knicked the threads holding clothes together too often for coincidence.
Thinking of the many ways he could sneak up on him and spook the daylights out of Ichigo, he didn’t really notice the store he was about to walk into. But there Ichigo was just behind the glass doors and windows breaking his heart into little pieces. Kisuke’s sandals clanked on the board walk wood as he backed up and read the damaged, paint peeling signs.
Tetsu’s Sweet Shop.
Tetsu’s Sweet Shop. Currently being raided and, and perused by Ichigo Kurosaki. Kisuke knew that was a tick in the left corner of his eye and soundlessly flash stepped to the boy’s location between a barrel of watermelon candies and black licorice.
"Holy crap!" A plastic bag splattered to the floor but the illicit goodies didn’t fall all over the place. Can’t win them all. But what business did Ichigo have buying sweets from someone else’s candy store?!
"I had no idea you had such a sweet tooth Kurosaki-kun! You’ve never seemed to eye my stash." Well, what was with that pointed look?
"I don’t really like candies all that much but when Yuzu and Karin heard I was coming to the beach they demanded candy then my dad heard them so I’ve got no choice." And he went back into picking random bits of candy even meandering over to the chewy types.
Kisuke couldn’t see what was so special about this candy. Some of it was obviously flawed with little cracks, discoloration, and some of it was probably even stale.
"But still you’ve never thought to bring anything from the Shoten home to your darling sisters?" He didn’t really like how well Ichigo was ignoring him in favor of the candy that so wasn’t his. He felt like pouting, almost. Still no answer.
"Because I can’t understand why you’d pick such a...limited and dumpy little spot to spoil your sisters with. The candy isn’t even that exotic!" Just because Tetsu had candied pineapples and fudge didn’t mean it was good.
"Cuase it’s candy?"
"I have candy. And I’m not even a stranger Kurosaki-kun." Thank god he wasn’t looking because Kisuke knew his grin was straining to the point of disbelief. Carefully following Ichigo he plucked a few candies out of the plastic bag for a little ‘keep away’. Peh. The density of the sugar melting and the colored flavoring mixing wasn’t even so that candy really wouldn’t melt in his mouth. They’d be bits of sugar crystal left. Tetsu was a liar and a molester. What other men open candy stores?
...With crowds of scantily clothed people and minors to be taken into consideration too, of course. It was all about location.
"I’d like 3/4 of a kilogram of fudge, plain chocolate, no nuts."
"You know Kurosaki-kun how would you know what my store isn’t better than this one?" The counter girl kept glaring at him and oogling Ichigo. Kisuke rather thought he like Ichigo in Heuco Mundo than this place.
Ichigo, it seemed had enough.
"Because I know its watermelon candy! Or Butterscotch! Not one of Tessai’s herbal medicines or some damn science project of yours. I want fudge, not something that’ll make me grow another arm!" Kisuke was sure his face was as wibbled as Ururu’s at Ichigo’s declaration. It wasn’t hard to draw the line of reasoning that Ichigo didn’t trust his candy, because he didn’t trust what he made, because he didn’t trust him.
The surprise elbow to the face a few months ago was less shocking than this one.
"Ah don’t be so angry Kurosaki-kun. I’ll be waiting outside for you then." ‘One more step’ was the manta of a dying man, not of a grown adult walking out of a candy store but that didn’t stop Kisuke from thinking it. To the left of the doors by the beach start was a bench as weather beaten as the rest of the boardwalk and a seagull pecking at some of Tetsu’s Candied Fruits.
"What do you like Tetsu’s more too?" Even a seagull wasn’t listening to him.
Years of special forces made him put his hand up to stop the smack before it connected, but the second later dropped when it was reveled to be Ichigo.
"Well now that is just rude Kurosaki-kun. Smacking an innocent bystander who was watching the birds."
"Innocent my ass. Here." A box? Not from Tetsu’s?! Ichigo was blushing a little as he peeled open the plastic top. It was a hermit crab whose shell had been painted like his hat.
"Kurosaki-kun?"
"Well I didn’t think you guys would be coming so I got souvenirs for everyone at the Shoten. No reason to be jealous of my family for whatever reason you’ve got in that weird head of yours." Jealous of his family? Leave it to Ichigo to pick up on the jealously and yet completely miss the point.
Kisuke slung his arm around Ichigo’s shoulder and brought him in for a good old man hug.
"OH KUROSAKI-KUN DOES CARE ABOUT ME!" He hoped that flash was Yoruichi taking a picture, because he doubted he’d ever get away with this again.
Take that, Tetsu.
Title: Sword of Zangetsu
Rating: PG13?
Pairings/Characters: Urahara/Ichigo/Aizen triangle (implied, barely), Isshin/Yoruichi, Kurosakis and Shoten mentions.
Warnings: Might not be understood unless you've seen Rocky Horror Picture Show
Word Count: 300
Ichigo was beyond words that Halloween. Hot and Clogs, Yoruichi, and his father had a wonderful idea for a big family costume theme! So after watching the movie- which he guiltily admitted that he enjoyed, he found out his character and hell was realized.
Karin, Yuzu, Ururu, Jinta, and Tessai got off easy. His sisters and Tessai just had to wear tuxes with bright accents and a maid/butler ensemble for the other two. Even Isshin had a decent costume, a leather jacket and rocker get up.
Then there was Yoruichi- or in Isshin speak, "YA NEW MAMA". Somehow she squeezed herself into a sultry, glittery corset and jacket in bedazzled sequins, striped short shorts and dancing shoes. She was even tap dancing.
"Awww....isn’t Ichi-kun having a good time? I know I am!" And Urahara was draped over him. In stockings, a green corest, man panties and that hat. He was a "sweet" transvestite.
Sweet my ass.
"At least you costume was easy to put on, eh?"The gold material that barely hide his crotch was all he had on. And some eyeliner.
"SHUT UP!" Listening to Yoruichi and the goat making out was bad enough but he was nearly naked in this shop of crazies.
To be fair, he was getting in character. He couldn’t wait til he got to drive someone insane. Specifically Rukia and Renji. Especially them. And somebody was here?
"Hey, there’s a light over at Kisuke’s place." Ichigo decided that he wanted to die by Seireitei execution- otherwise he’d still have this humiliation in the afterlife. Ichimaru, dressed like Aizen(dorky glasses and all), Tousen in a wheel chair, and Aizen in a freaken dress had come to visit.
Aizen looked over at me and only muttered a few words-
"Well, if it isn’t a creature of the night."
Just kill me. Please.
Title: Euthanasia
Characters: Ichigo, Isshin, Kisuke, Rukia, Shunsui
Rating: PG
Word Count: 834
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. That honor belongs to Tite Kubo.
Summary: She called it a mercy, her captain called it a failure.
“To best explain the events that occurred on that notable day, we must acknowledge one and only one truth- At Five AM, Kon used Ichigo’s throat as a step stool. That is all.
---
It was not unusual for Ichigo to feel stiff when waking up, not much time to stretch while facing arrancar, you see. But this particular morning, roughly 7 am, was the worst by far.
To his amazement, Ichigo did not feel like he had to go to the bathroom as was his usual morning ritual but that too passed. After a shower which did nothing to help his stiffness he proceeded to do his weekly shave- heaven forbid he end up like the goat.
Only after he washed off the rest of the shaving scream that he noticed a shallow cut near his nose that was not bleeding at all. He finally decided that something was wrong. Razor cuts have this magical ability to bleed for hours on end. On top of all that he was still chilly even after a nice, hot shower. Ichigo went downstairs in his pajamas. So he tried the simplest thing he could think of and pressed one finger to the bridge of his nose. Nothing helping.
The spirits did not foresee him going to school. That and his fingers were going slightly numb.
“Hey dad! I need- “ Ah. Normality. Ichigo found himself unable to fight back that morning but managed to get the final kick in. His attention was brought back to the subject when his elbow did have that satisfying “pop” of muscles fixing themselves.
“Dad?”
“What my obnoxiously strong progeny?”
“I think something’s wrong with me.” Karin and Yuzu were dressed and ready for school by them. They tsk-ed him for not having clothes. Isshin had been going light on him after they both came clean about the shinigami but not on the girls. But hey, he was the one facing these psychos every night. They just had to deal with the goat.
“Did you poke your forehead?”
“Yeah, nothing.” The goat’s eyes widened in surprise- he was taking it seriously now. Then his eyes gleamed.
“DADDY CHECK UP TIME!” Well, kinda serious. They were in the room and Isshin spent a few minutes listening to his son’s heartbeat. The only problem was that it was quiet. That and the numbness was spreading from his toes and fingers up his arms and legs.
“Hey dad?”
“…yes?”
“Am…am I dead?”
“….I think so?” They synched together for a moment when a look of disturbed curiosity washed over them and ended there. Ichigo called Urahara and Isshin started crying to Masaki. The wailing only got louder when after all these years the poster finally slipped from off the wall.
---
Kisuke was very happy that the Kurosaki’s let him see this. Ichigo was one of his favorite projects- a living soul that became a vizard, and now he was dead/dying.
You don’t get this kind of quality set up often.
“Can’t he just pop himself out of the body and go into a gigai?” Sometimes the family resemblance was astounding- the kid was good enough to replace a missing Gotei but neither one of them even thought of that. Weirdos. He bobbed Isshin on the head.
“No! Don’t you listen?! Ichigo’s soul chain was completely eroded away- he might be a plus, a shinigami, or a hollow.” You see, there was another problem. Some souls didn’t want to leave their bodies and that is why the soul candies were invented. Ichigo’s body had become to used to the soul filtering in and out that it didn’t acknowledge its death. Funny, really.
“Well what do you suggest? I can’t stay in this body and eventually I’m going to have to fight the arrancar again.” He sighed.
“You’re right. To the training grounds.” And so they went. And Ichigo was propelled out of the dead body.
In the form of a masked lizard with orange hair.
“Oh fuck!”
“Well you can always be an arrancar and hope your hole and mask are discreet…”
“MASAKI! OUR SON IS A HOLLOW!”
---
It is really for this panel to decide, would killing Ichigo Kurosaki really be murder? Or would it be a mercy? “ Rukia had finished her presentation with a slideshow of her best friend, the arrancar, dealing with Isshin and Kisuke Urahara all day long.
“Thank you Miss Kuchiki. Now this is a request from the entire organization?” The captains were on her side- they’d worked with both of those men too.
“Sadly this is out of my jurisdiction. The Euthanasia request for Ichigo Kurosaki is voided.” Yamamoto dismissed the girl as Jushiro just growled and tossed a pile of papers angrily behind him, all labeled “Vice Captain Request Form”.
Shunsui just snorted into his sake and wondered what would happen if Ichigo ever found out that Kon had accidentally killed him because kind, gentle, and compassionate Jushiro Ukitake set it up. A soft huff was heard as his friend whined to the Commander.
Title: Being Blind
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Chizuru
Word Count: 567
Disclaimer: I own nothing affiliated with Bleach
She knew what it was like being different from the rest of her classmates but for the first time in her life, Chizuru wished she was a little stranger. Admittedly her class was very odd and accepting of others but there were still some solid truths. It made the other girls a little twitchy about her being a lesbian, with the exception of Tatsuki and Orihime. Rukia later on as well.
It was only natural that she felt a bit closer to them then the others. Tatsuki and Orihime were her best friends, admit it or not, and she’d known Keigo since they were in elementary. It was natural to partner with Ichigo for poetry(He and Sado were probably the only guys she trusted Orihime with.) or with Mizuru for a history assignment. They were friends.
Until a few months ago.
Orihime, Ichigo, and Sado made themselves distant along with that Ishida kid before disappearing all together. The rest of the class seemed to have gotten over it already except for Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuru. They were more upset then anything about being left alone and without any warning. It hurt her too, but they took it the worst. And then it started happening again. Those three came in with injuries that no High Schooler should be getting and they too were missing school more and more often.
It all ended over Ice-cream, of all things. The three of them were so worn out but perked up as soon as this strange man with clogs on his feet came over.
“It’ll be longer then we thought. Yammamoto is dead.” Whoever this guy was, they knew of him apparently, since Keigo screamed and Tatsuki paled. It was still hard to gauge Mizuru’s reactions but he seemed upset too.
“Chizuru… we need to go do something. Promise you we’ll be back as soon as we can.” Chizuru snorted and took their left-overs.
“Yeah, whatever. Your Chocolate Supreme is mine, Tatsuki.” There was a lopsided grin and she ran off with the others guys.
Its junior year and no one seems to remember their most vibrant classmates. None of them made it back to school and their parents don’t seem to even notice. Chizuru knew, she asked around. It hurt the most when the group photos for the yearbook were being taken and her group, those idiots, weren’t even there.
‘You were all upset that you couldn’t follow and you leave me here. Did you guys just forget me already?’
The night before senior year ends, Chizuru had a visitor in her dreams that she hadn’t had for years- Orihime. She didn’t change a bit but wore such a dark color and the message was just like her too. Ichigo was a Captain of soul reapers while Tatsuki is having the time of her life as a member of Soi Fong’s division. Chad fights for the 8th while Keigo and Mizuru was finishing their last year of school. Orihime smiled and said that she was happy and that she was a third seat under Hitsugaya, the temporary transfer from a few years ago.
“Close your eyes Chizuru-chan. You don’t deserve to lose us yet.” There was a heat, like when a camera goes off, but over the entire city it seemed.
The next day when her friends never existed, Chizuru doesn’t cry. She’s got a man with clogs to find.
Title: Afterparty
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or anythign affiliated.
Summary: Ikkaku looks over that the 3rd and 5th Divisions and wanders back into the 11th.
Words: 657
There really weren’t too many complications with being who he was. Ikkaku spent his life in the higher districts of the Rukongai where fighting was a means of living. Some of the more stuffy shinigami in the Seireitei thought that was a despicable mindset, but he was in the 11th Division.
There one job was to fuck the hollows up. The Captains certainly weren’t complaining and they were all good at it. Even the bottom of the barrel in their division made it out alive in most cases, a few idiots not withstanding.
Still there was that stigma against the 11th division that made everyone think they were monstrous, murderous people. To be fair nearly every person in the Guards feared Zaraki, but only the smarter ones feared the Vice Captain. They knew pure evil when they saw it.
For Ikkaku life continued on. Beat up the 4th, beat up hollows, get beat up by Zaraki; and then get beat up/ proceed to beat up Kurosaki got added into the mix. It was only for about three days that they were an enemy but the 11th division and all the “monsters” responded better then anybody else and we’re given a lot of slack…for siding with the Ryoka in the end.
Ikkaku knew that they should have been given hell for that but more problems came up and the “real monsters” decided to show up- the arrancar. The other divisions weren’t so lucky this time. The 9th was okay since Tousan wasn’t loved so much, but the 3rd and 5th still refused to believe that heir beloved captains were evil. They weren’t so popular now but the were holding up.
For a few months the 11th division was as normal as everybody else while fighting the hollow that dared to get shinigami powers. He feels a little ashamed to admit it but it felt a little good to be respected rather then feared. Iba was the yakuza wanna-be, not him.
It wasn’t enough to stop him and the rest of the 11th from getting drunk off their asses after Aizen died. The reasons weren’t clear but Ichigo and the people at the Shoten had something to do with it. It didn’t matter cause they were together in this.
“Oi! Kurosaki, what the hell? Why are you leaving your own party?” He wasn’t even in party clothes- did he own anything other then the uniform? Ichigo wasn’t looking so hot either. He’d been released a few days ago with a warning not to fight so much, but no he was pale and sweating a lot.
“…Ikkaku, could you do me a favor?”
“Sure, what? Heh, want somebody to watch Kuchiki for you while you run off with his sister?” The kid was silent and Ikkaku started choking on his drink.
“Seriously?!”
“No. But don’t just tell everybody that I went to bed. I… I don’t think you’re all fucked up, and you know you and all the others that you’re all okay, right?” He was stammering a bit and rushed off.
Ikkaku really didn’t get what the emergency meeting was about the next day when everybody had hangovers. The Captain-Commander started speaking to the main players in the Winter War.
“It seems as if we have once again been deceived. The former substitute shinigami, Ichigo Kurosaki, has been found out to be a vizard- a shinigami…with hollow powers. Central has decided to finally eliminate this problem, so any contact with the Ryoka are forbidden. You are to arrest them on sight with the expectation of Kurosaki and Inoue.”
Most of the crowd let out a sigh, but several of the captains tensed.
“They are to killed on sight. You are all dismissed.” Ikkaku felt like a monster for the first time in his entire life. It wasn’t a nice feeling at all.
At the canteen people gave him fearful space again, the same with Yamada, and still with Matsumoto.
Title : The Miserable Life of the Undead
Rating : PG13
Word Count : 955
Characters : Ulquiorra
Warnings : requres a sense of humor, especially against the Emo culture.
Summary : In his final moments with Orihime, Ulquiorra remembers his death.
Disclaimer : I don't own bleach or anythign affiliated.
"Hearts? You humans are always talking about hearts. It’s as if you have them in your hand. But my eye sees everything. Nothing can escape it. What it doesn’t see doesn’t exist. That’s how I’ve always fought. What is a heart? If I rip open your chest will I see it? If I crack open your skull will I find it in there?"
Oh hell, he did it again. This was precisely the reason he choose not to speak unless absolutely necessary. It was also possibly the reason he detested humans so much and realized what absolute trash they were. TRASH!
Ulquiorra sighed and wondered if the girl picked up on the speech pattern. Maybe not. She seemed absolutely insane and out of touch with any and all realities. No one understood the problem- understood him. They didn’t know what trash really lived in the human world.
He could still remember the events of his death and of the start of his afterlife, even if his human memories were foggy at best. The torture he endured had been perfectly clear and long lasting. No, no arguments. It had been nothing but unholy torture.
Contrary to his power and status, he hadn’t been a hollow for long but all the anger and reckless rage had been a good method for his rapid progression. He had died almost happily. There was no tremendous pain, no heartbreak, it was all an accident. Wet ground, a few careless papers in the park and a cracked skull at the bottom of a hill underneath a walking bridge. For two years he sat there, capable of watching the beauty of the seasons change even though he was chained to that very spot. It was beautiful enough to not be bitter about his death and just wait for himself to move on.
Then it started....and they came. It was maddening. They came in drunken droves of black and bad make-up, of ill used metal and obscure tastes. And the music, oh the music.
‘Crawllling in my skiiin
‘ we’re going down-down in a earlier round, and sugar we’re going down swingin’’
It never ended. There was always at least once self deluded teenager who thought his life sucked and that death was the only real answer. But the fact is, they never actually killed themselves. They just put make-up on and the ridiculous clothes. Ulquiorra shuddered at the memory of tight black jeans with pins stuck in them.
A few months in there was a brief reprieve when one of the normal people screamed at the "emos" to stop smoking their pot. Sometimes he swore they were able to see him and just did it to drive him insane, personally.
"My life... its not worth living! My cat hates me, I got a C on my biology test. Mother switched to decaf in the mornings- they don’t get it! Every night I’m haunted by these terrible people in the world. I’m me! My own person, why else would I dress like this? I don’t belong to those normal people with their crowds and trends. I think Cindy’s going to break it off with me, but its alright since me and Greg have been gay together for a while. Miffles, my cat, still hates me. She coughed up a hair ball on my signed MCR poster.”
Years. That rubbish went on for years, and he had to deal with the fact that his loved ones were going to be taken care of by this psuedo-suicidal fake ass TRASH. It all came to a head one night.
" doesn’t she know that with my one last dying breathe I’d apologize..."
"There chains of my life burden me with unimaginable woe and misery!"
Dimly, he remembered snapping and pulling what was left oh his chain off his chest and ripping the boy to pieces while eating his soul. In a few months he had hunted down every last one of the "emos" that ruined his afterlife and came close to damning the world to ruin.
In a scarily short amount of time he had become an adjuchas. Then he had met Aizen and it was like a glorious breath of that fresh air he used to love. The man was confident and emotionally guarded. He had no idea what the other man thought and that was enough for him.
His arrancar form, however, made him a believer in Epic Karma. White. His skin was an alabaster white that no human make-up could mimic and his hair was a mess. To add to his wonderful second life, tear tracks ran down from his face.
It was irony- he had become what he hated but he continued on knowing that Aizen would not allow The Emos to live.
And then it happened. There are currently only four former Espada (the privions) left thanks to him. The remaining six... they had the audacity. It hurt more then any blade and he had spent the rest of the night trembling in a corner near Tousan (though he suspected that Tousan was borderline Emo as well, the others wouldn’t go near him).
They called him emo-car.
And now he stood there, unconsciously spewing the words the Trash of earth had driven into his head with there methodological torture and unprivate angst.
He’d hate himself for it but he wouldn’t give them that victory. He wouldn’t. Kurosaki chose then to crash into the room and his ears twitched. He heard it.
‘Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentlemen and maybe he won’t find out what I know, you were the last good thing this side of town’
Kurosaki had inadvertently brought background music. He had to die. Now.
Title: Happy Home Maker
Character: Yuzu/Kon
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach or anything affiliated.
Summary: Sometimes it was nice to know that someone was always going to be there with her, eating her food, and being a general annoyance.
Although by the end of the Winter War Yuzu had come into her powers and would be more than fitting as a shinigami, she didn’t want it. It took a lot of convincing, a heartfelt good-bye to Karin, almost monthly check up by Ichigo, and beating her father into submission before they let her live out her life in Karakura Town. Without them. It was strange when she met up with her sister again, her still looking thirteen while she was pushing nineteen, Ichigo not looking all that much older was a bit creepy too. And it wasn’t like she was living on her own like Orihime or Uryu either, her dad made her live with his friend Ryuuken until recently when she got her own apartment close to the train station.
Still she went back to his home a least once a week to make dinner. The cold man wouldn’t admit it but he was lonely. Otherwise she spent her time balancing school work and her televison show, as odd as that sounded.
Yuzu smiled to herself when she thought about the Karakura Superheros segment of the Ghost Bust program. That was where she really got her start in everything, and nine years and one cooking school later she has her own cooking program on Wednesday evenings at 5:05.
"Yuzu! What’s for dinner tonight?" An arm slung around her shoulder much to the annoyance of the male population of her home room. Apparently they were not used to having someone relatively famous and tragic in their class but they got used to it. She couldn’t keep track of the mothers who were hoping that one of their sons would snag her- she was a fairly old fashioned woman if you thought out it. But it wasn’t any human arm around her and she knew the feel of a gigai.
One that was taller than her but not overly so. Short brown hair like a lion’s mane and a nice beyond healthy tan and he had a few too many features like her brother to be comfortable.
"What the hell does the new guy think he’s doing!" Technically she didn’t know the guy who was beyond rude and extremely forward, but she knew. Did he know that she knew? Midori snatched her away to the other side of the room.
"Yuzu, do you know that guy?"
"He’s...yeah I know him." He didn’t think so however, as he introduced himself as Kon Kaiichi.
---
"You know, this is really bad. Little girls shouldn’t be bringing almost perfect strangers, even one as attractive as me, to their house." That didn’t stop him from walking into the apartment and lounging on the couch. He was wearing Ichigo’s clothes too- well they had to go somewhere, right?
"So... that body new," he spewed a little of his drink out and stared at me.
"...or have you been working at it for years?" He laughed and said that something as marvelous as him could only be sculpted by a master. Urahara must have made the gigai then.
He ate the meal loving every bite of it and it was nice again. Sure people praised her cooking and even the harsh judges never had too much negative to say, but it was like he was expecting all of the flavors to be how they were for almost a decade. They weren’t perfect strangers at all.
Despite his warning about leading ‘men’ into her house he made himself awfully cosy at her side- she was sure he groped her ass at least once- and made no intention to leave even after 10 pm.
"You see? This is why you don’t just invite guys in. You’re hot looking, you can cook, why they’ll just stay. Duh little Yuzu." He rolled his eyes and she punched his arm and he pouted.
"What was that for?!"
"Oh just stop it and say you miss me already. Seriously Kon? You think I wouldn’t notice, Boss Tuff?"
"You knew!"
"Well of course, I know. I can’t mistake my Boss Tuff anywhere!" Yuzu hugged and pushed him into the couch, laying on top of his for the entire night.
---
"Yuzu," Midori began. "I know that you’re still healing from your family’s death... but your boyfriend isn’t good for you." She snuck a peek at the Kaiichi running around declaring himself a Yuzu fan since her first premier on Ghost Bust, dressed like a modern yakuza. While wearing the proper school attire, of course.
"You’re wrong Midori." Yuzu was glad that someone wanted to live life with her before dying and fulfilling some sacred duty. She wanted someone to go crazy while she was doing nothing more than cutting carrots, or heaming his always ripping jeans.
"Yuzu, watch me dive out the widow!" Boss Tuff was worth making that apartment cozy for two.
And it was a plus, too, that Ichigo and her father couldn’t technically kill a mod soul. A girl had to keep these things in mind.
Title: Cruelty
Characters: Hiyori Sarugaki, Sousuke Aizen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything affiliated.
“How do you stand it? I’d kill myself if I were in your shoes with that… with that freaken retard in charge! Does he always make you do stupid shit like his laundry?”
“It really is not…difficult, but thank you for your concern Sarugaki-fukutaicho. And for the help.”
“Peh, call me Hiyori ‘pecially around Shinji cuase it’d drive him up the wall. Need some more red dye in your barrel?”
“Hmm, no thank you. Perhaps this will teach him. He is very much a fool.”
“You say something Sousuke?”
“No, nothing of importance.”
“S’all right but call me next time. I want to be there to see you screw that beaver toothed bastard over.”
“I’m sure you will be Hiyori-fukutaicho.”
Title: Olympia
For: Vayshti
What: Nemu likes it rough. Yuri or Het
Words: 585
Pairing: slight Nemu/Hiyori
Rating: M
Warning:Crushing kink. Takes place before the Hueco Mundo arc.
Summary: Nemu fails at spying.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything affiliated
She’d felt so many things done to her body before that sometimes it was a distant haze. There really wasn’t any sort of release from anything. The toxins and antidotes and bindings in her body wouldn’t allow for any sort of deviant behavior to work. Rangiku’s sake or the pain medication Unohana sometimes gives her do nothing at all. Only Captain and Akon knew the hollowest parts of her body and the real ones, completely out of usefulness. But her body wasn’t numb and she was still a shinigami. That was why she had been picked to spy on the Vizards: her lack of a corruptible soul.
It wasn’t due to any sort of purity but the essential of her being were all synthetic- maybe sometimes it would be easier to refer to herself as a compote doll than a shinigami. Nemu wasn’t even able to hide herself being a gigai and nothing more. She should have seen the sandal sailing in her direction.
“Watch it, bitch!” Someone so tiny slammed into her and forced them off of the top of the warehouse into one of the alleyways. Nemu reached for her sword at once only to find it being held by the stranger. Or not stranger, a vizard. The little thing walked towards her with a cocky sluanter that wouldn’t have seemed strange to a melee fighter, projected sandal in one hand and her sword in the other.
She had pig tails in her hair. Nemu had tried that once only to have her father smash her face down and crop it all off.
“My name is Kurotsuki Nemu from the...” Her eyes glinted somehow and before it could be registered a foot was on her.
She couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. That petite heel dug and dislodged her jaw and pressed so perfectly on her cheekbone. Gravel on floor dug into her other cheek but the so perfect so wonderful force on her face and head made her pant.
“The fucks the matter with you!? Don’t you have any modesty! I don’t want to know that you’re a baldy!” The vizard girl jumped away. It sounded like when those perverts got off on their porn. The short skirt she had been wearing road up to her waist during the fall, leaving pretty much everything out in the open for the vizard to see, with no hair to obscure anything.
“Close you’re legs you whore!”
“Pl-please I just...” The crushing on her head came back before leaving again. It wasn’t like the other pains she’s felt, more erotic than anything else. Then she started seeing spots.
“AHHH!UGH AH!” Her hips thrusted upwards when the lightning went through her body all starting from her head, as if the shinigami was performing a soul burial. Her fingertips and toes felt numb and her chest went way past its regulated temperature, getting worse and worse each time the tiny girl shifted her weight a little and continued to crush face into the ground.
Nemu didn’t think anymore heat could pool between her legs or on her face or that her breasts could feel much heavier and the foot left her face only to slam down in undainty footsteps down her spine.
“Ohh...”
“Che, you’re a gigai aren’t you? I’ll fix that.” Past the sweat stinging her eyes and the white flashes, she saw the finger come closer until they grazed around her neck giving her just one more moment of perfect tension. All was then lax.
Title: Tom Sawyer
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes Ichigo has to follow him into the dirtiest parts of the world.
Notes: can take place before the manga or anytime during it, but I'm thinking beforehand.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or anything affiliated.
It was worth noting that for once, Ichigo blended in with the crowd or even seemed rather tame for it. It was and wasn’t his scene if you get the picture, but Chad needed somebody here for him and that forty minute train ride was worth surprising him. When the music was playing, at least, Ichigo could pretend it was a somewhat decent place rather than a one step away from falling apart dive.
“YEAH IT’S MINE!” And clearly there were other people like Keigo all around the world and not just for his own personal torture. A few of the stoners that took a break from their corner invaded the stage and started digging around the old inventory while the next band-Chad’s band- set up. Thank god. When Ichigo had first walked in he remembered instantly why he despised most local bands. Their covers of some of his favorite songs were so god awful it made him cringe, even if the echoing walls did do something to mellow it out.
A ripping sound was heard over the radio break, dimly relating to a Rush song but it was impossible to tell through the chatter and static and set up.
“Holy Shit it’s like a pinata!” Another ripping sound and with a thump, something landed on Ichigo’s lap. A stuffed camel head that looked like it had seen better days.
“Hey, mind if we have that or do, you know, want it as souvenir or something?” One of the girls came over and she looked like she could fuck somebody up with all the metal she had on. Better to avoid her during a mosh pit than to take a chance. Like it was diseased he picked it up by the ear with two fingers and gave it to her, some of the fluff and styrofoam balls falling onto the floor trough the torn neck. More fell out after she punted it to her circle of friends.
The amps were clicked on and before anybody else could Ichigo ran to the front of the depopulated stage, sporting a tee shirt with the band’s logo. The people next to him were elbowed away as Mina, the girlfriend of the band’s frontman, saddled up next to him in the same shirt. She smiled and in unison they started screaming to draw more people over.
Finally out of the moth eaten curtain Chad popped out and like a pro didn’t once look into the crowd, just setting about his business. Like finding where his pic was.
“OI CHAD!” Ichigo had managed to scream loud enough and fought the laugh at Chad’s face. He was clearly shocked at seeing his friend here. Half climbing on Ichigo passed him one of the many pics Chad had left at his house, fingers only brushing when Chad’s hand overshot the tiny plastic piece. Underneath his bangs there was a small grin and a blush on his cheeks- the pic was tiger printed.
For Chad, Ichigo didn’t mind loosing his pride every now and then. Mostly by thrashing with Mina and getting the crowd going for the band. A half an hour passed and the crowd dispersed while the next band came to set up. Jumping up and down mindlessly might seem easy but the room was very hot and the sweat stuck to Ichigo’s brow. Even by the end there Chad’s hair was getting stringy from being wet with sweat. Parking back into his seat by a hole in the wall, Chad walked over looking exhausted.
“It was a great show.”
“I didn’t really expect you to come all the way out here...nobody else from Karakura really came. Why?” They were really close, mostly because the bench was lopsided and Chad’s large frame was slowly sliding down.
“Being there for another person isn’t a one sided thing, got it? Geez and thought you’d be quiet for this instead of being a pain in the ass.” He looked away and Ichigo’s cheeks were red from the heat, not because of anything else.
For a moment it was quiet around them and Chad smiled at his friend. Until his elbow went through the dried plaster of the wall and getting it stuck.
“This was a closing concert. The building’s being condemned.” Ichigo brushed off the plaster from both of them.
“Never would have guessed.”
Title: Duck or Swim
Rating: PG
Words: 1117
Notes: Takes place after/during Bleach the Beach
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach or anything affiliated.
Summary: Urahara does not like this Tetsu, not one bit.
For once Kisuke knew that he wasn’t getting odd looks about his clothing, since he knew he looked good for the beach, even if his trunks were slightly too stiff from disuse and he traded in his jacket for a much lighter one.
"Oh? Is the sand contest over already?" All in all it was a beautiful day out well spent with some old friends. So what if they got there a few hours later than intended, it was still good. Soi Fong managed to get a bathing suit on Yuroichi that didn’t hide too much but it was better than straight up nudity.
"Yeah apparently the third seats from Ukitake’s division won. The Kuchuki’s are little upset." Really, he had to admire Soi Fong stoicism at watching her former captain arch into the sand without even flinching.
"And where is Kurosaki-kun? His mop of hair isn’t anywhere near there."
"He left for the boardwalk." A dismissal? Surely she jested. A coy smile followed. "I think Abarai might be with him."
"Better make sure he doesn’t get into trouble then!" Sometimes he though his oldest friend knew way more than she should.
It wasn’t that difficult to find out where his student was even if he hadn’t been to this beach before. That reiastu of his was screaming for people to find him. They should probably work on that soon or as soon as he could without accidently tearing more of the boys clothes than necessary. Ichigo wasn’t dumb but even the not so bright would realize he knicked the threads holding clothes together too often for coincidence.
Thinking of the many ways he could sneak up on him and spook the daylights out of Ichigo, he didn’t really notice the store he was about to walk into. But there Ichigo was just behind the glass doors and windows breaking his heart into little pieces. Kisuke’s sandals clanked on the board walk wood as he backed up and read the damaged, paint peeling signs.
Tetsu’s Sweet Shop.
Tetsu’s Sweet Shop. Currently being raided and, and perused by Ichigo Kurosaki. Kisuke knew that was a tick in the left corner of his eye and soundlessly flash stepped to the boy’s location between a barrel of watermelon candies and black licorice.
"Holy crap!" A plastic bag splattered to the floor but the illicit goodies didn’t fall all over the place. Can’t win them all. But what business did Ichigo have buying sweets from someone else’s candy store?!
"I had no idea you had such a sweet tooth Kurosaki-kun! You’ve never seemed to eye my stash." Well, what was with that pointed look?
"I don’t really like candies all that much but when Yuzu and Karin heard I was coming to the beach they demanded candy then my dad heard them so I’ve got no choice." And he went back into picking random bits of candy even meandering over to the chewy types.
Kisuke couldn’t see what was so special about this candy. Some of it was obviously flawed with little cracks, discoloration, and some of it was probably even stale.
"But still you’ve never thought to bring anything from the Shoten home to your darling sisters?" He didn’t really like how well Ichigo was ignoring him in favor of the candy that so wasn’t his. He felt like pouting, almost. Still no answer.
"Because I can’t understand why you’d pick such a...limited and dumpy little spot to spoil your sisters with. The candy isn’t even that exotic!" Just because Tetsu had candied pineapples and fudge didn’t mean it was good.
"Cuase it’s candy?"
"I have candy. And I’m not even a stranger Kurosaki-kun." Thank god he wasn’t looking because Kisuke knew his grin was straining to the point of disbelief. Carefully following Ichigo he plucked a few candies out of the plastic bag for a little ‘keep away’. Peh. The density of the sugar melting and the colored flavoring mixing wasn’t even so that candy really wouldn’t melt in his mouth. They’d be bits of sugar crystal left. Tetsu was a liar and a molester. What other men open candy stores?
...With crowds of scantily clothed people and minors to be taken into consideration too, of course. It was all about location.
"I’d like 3/4 of a kilogram of fudge, plain chocolate, no nuts."
"You know Kurosaki-kun how would you know what my store isn’t better than this one?" The counter girl kept glaring at him and oogling Ichigo. Kisuke rather thought he like Ichigo in Heuco Mundo than this place.
Ichigo, it seemed had enough.
"Because I know its watermelon candy! Or Butterscotch! Not one of Tessai’s herbal medicines or some damn science project of yours. I want fudge, not something that’ll make me grow another arm!" Kisuke was sure his face was as wibbled as Ururu’s at Ichigo’s declaration. It wasn’t hard to draw the line of reasoning that Ichigo didn’t trust his candy, because he didn’t trust what he made, because he didn’t trust him.
The surprise elbow to the face a few months ago was less shocking than this one.
"Ah don’t be so angry Kurosaki-kun. I’ll be waiting outside for you then." ‘One more step’ was the manta of a dying man, not of a grown adult walking out of a candy store but that didn’t stop Kisuke from thinking it. To the left of the doors by the beach start was a bench as weather beaten as the rest of the boardwalk and a seagull pecking at some of Tetsu’s Candied Fruits.
"What do you like Tetsu’s more too?" Even a seagull wasn’t listening to him.
Years of special forces made him put his hand up to stop the smack before it connected, but the second later dropped when it was reveled to be Ichigo.
"Well now that is just rude Kurosaki-kun. Smacking an innocent bystander who was watching the birds."
"Innocent my ass. Here." A box? Not from Tetsu’s?! Ichigo was blushing a little as he peeled open the plastic top. It was a hermit crab whose shell had been painted like his hat.
"Kurosaki-kun?"
"Well I didn’t think you guys would be coming so I got souvenirs for everyone at the Shoten. No reason to be jealous of my family for whatever reason you’ve got in that weird head of yours." Jealous of his family? Leave it to Ichigo to pick up on the jealously and yet completely miss the point.
Kisuke slung his arm around Ichigo’s shoulder and brought him in for a good old man hug.
"OH KUROSAKI-KUN DOES CARE ABOUT ME!" He hoped that flash was Yoruichi taking a picture, because he doubted he’d ever get away with this again.
Take that, Tetsu.