Run, Baby, Run! {Ikkaku, Nemu}
Title: Run, Baby, Run!
Characters: Madarame Ikkaku, Kurotsuchi Nemu
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 1,220
Summary: Sometimes ditching your duty can turn out for the best.
A/N: Written for prompt #1: under the burning sun of Table #9, 5_prompts.
Sometimes Ikkaku didn't really understand himself. He knew he was a thug, one who loved fighting more than anything else. He was certain that he'd serve and die fighting under his captain's rule and no one else's. It was an undisputed fact that he didn't want anyone to know of his bankai, much less his captain. He knew passion, respect, the thirst for battle that sent waves of electricity through his veins every time he set foot on the battlefield.
Ikkaku knew as much, but he wasn't exactly sure as to why he was sitting there, under the burning sun, beside that young woman whom everyone called Kurotsuchi…something.
It was more like a chance meeting, really. Ikkaku had been wandering the Seireitei in search of his captain and lieutenant who, just a few hours ago, had gone off to crash some candy store the kid fancied. He was more than used to it, but given how long their absence had been, it was more than less likely that they were, once again, lost. After quite a while of searching in vain and just when he had resorted to giving up and returning to the barracks, he had stumbled upon none other than the woman - girl, really.
The Twelfth Division barracks looked as imposing as ever, its quiet atmosphere inducing more fear than serenity, and she looked so small, even inferior, sitting by its dull gray entrance. Ikkaku had stopped, drawn by curiosity as to what the division's own lieutenant was doing out there, very much resembling a lost puppy. After a while of staring, he had called out to her, and when she looked up at him to give a minute nod as greeting, he could see the fresh cuts around her throat and collarbone. Her uniform itself was torn about the hems, bruises littering her shoulders and legs.
"What the fuck's wrong with ye?" Ikkaku had blurted out without a second thought, taken aback from her appearance, but she merely gave him a look that unsettled him. An hour or so sitting beside her and he still felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck, still had the image of her blank, emotionless stare in his mind.
That, and how he had to try his very best to ignore his conscience berating him for intervening in her private business. His captain never did like the Twelfth Division, said that they were all a bunch of experiment-crazed asswipes who utilised machines and poison and science to fight dirty. Ikkaku, always the loyal member of Eleventh, wholeheartedly agreed, but only in regards to that madman the Twelfth had for its captain.
Ikkaku leaned back against the wall, zanpakuto lying in between his legs, and stole a glance over at the girl. With her head down, face buried in her forearms, she really did look lost. She kept staring forward, as if there was something of interest there in the dirt that only she could see. Once, Ikkaku even considered squinting and trying to see what she saw, but finally went against it, deeming it ridiculous.
She was quite the puzzle to Ikkaku. Sticking around with that madman whose surname she carried was one thing, putting up with his abuse was another. Those cuts on her skin, despite their fast recovery, were terrible - and that was saying something since Ikkaku was very much used to wounds.
The hot sun beat down on them, and Ikkaku had long started to sweat a river. The back of his uniform stuck uncomfortably to his shoulder blades, sweat threatening to slip into his eyes. He forced out a sigh to break such an awkward silence.
"Damned hot today, eh?" he muttered, tipping his head back, and shielded his eyes from the glaring sun. "Wanna go for a drink, kid?"
She turned to him, and he had to look away from her gaze that never failed to send a shiver up his spine. They were orbs belonging to a marionette, emotionless, bottomless pits that swallowed him whole without breaking a sweat.
"No, thank you, Madarame-san," she said, voice a soft murmur that floated on the warm, summer breeze, a sweet melody to Ikkaku's ears. "Captain is expecting me in his lab in a few hours' time."
"To hell with that!" Just as those words left him in a heated yell, he clamped his mouth shut, guilt overriding him as she turned away. Mentally cursing himself, he rose to his feet, zanpakuto steadied on his shoulder, and stood there staring down at her. She didn't budge, eyes trained once more to that special spot on the ground. With an inward sigh, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of her, he turned on his heel and stormed away.
But, before he even reached the entrance gates, he stopped. For one thing though, during that hour or so sitting with her in silence, he managed to piece together whatever made him approach her in the first place. Seeing her all alone there, hurting on the inside as well as on the outside, irritated the hell out of him. The reason behind that, however, was still being evasive, and he'd be damned before he could even figure it out.
To hell with that.
The next thing Ikkaku knew, he was pushing all forms of doubt, of the potential risks and consequences out of his mind, marching right back to the barracks. He came to a halt before her, towering high above her with the sun reflecting off of the top of his bald head.
They stared at each other for a while, Eleventh Division Third Seat out rightly glaring down at the lieutenant.
And then Ikkaku grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet before she could even register the motion. But, even if she were surprised, she didn't make any facial expression to indicate as such. The calm, level-headed exterior remained intact, something that annoyed Ikkaku to no end.
"Madarame-san, I'm afraid I'm not able to acquiesce to your request. The captain does need me back in-"
"Shut the hell up, kid, and jus' follow my lead." Ikkaku flashed her a grin and continued to pull her towards the gates. "That damned captain a'yours ain't got no business with ye in the next couple a'hours, an'," he stressed, seeing as she was about to protest again, "if he wants t'try anythin' funny, he'll have t'come and settle the score with me, ye hear?"
She didn't respond, but to Ikkaku's surprise, she actually allowed him to lead her all the way out of the Twelfth Division compounds and into the streets of the Seireitei. They were running now, and he was pleased to see that she could easily keep up with him.
"That captain a'yours ain't treatin' ye right. I don't know how ye can put up with all his bullshit, an' I don't really wanna know in the first place, but I do know that he doesn't deserve ye." He steered her to a sharp right turn, catching her before she fell.
"But, captain needs me-"
"Captain this, captain that!" Ikkaku hoisted her to her feet, glaring at her. "Y'know what I always say?"
She shook her head, and he, with a playful grin, poked her lightly between her eyebrows.
"To hell with that!"
Characters: Madarame Ikkaku, Kurotsuchi Nemu
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 1,220
Summary: Sometimes ditching your duty can turn out for the best.
A/N: Written for prompt #1: under the burning sun of Table #9, 5_prompts.
Sometimes Ikkaku didn't really understand himself. He knew he was a thug, one who loved fighting more than anything else. He was certain that he'd serve and die fighting under his captain's rule and no one else's. It was an undisputed fact that he didn't want anyone to know of his bankai, much less his captain. He knew passion, respect, the thirst for battle that sent waves of electricity through his veins every time he set foot on the battlefield.
Ikkaku knew as much, but he wasn't exactly sure as to why he was sitting there, under the burning sun, beside that young woman whom everyone called Kurotsuchi…something.
It was more like a chance meeting, really. Ikkaku had been wandering the Seireitei in search of his captain and lieutenant who, just a few hours ago, had gone off to crash some candy store the kid fancied. He was more than used to it, but given how long their absence had been, it was more than less likely that they were, once again, lost. After quite a while of searching in vain and just when he had resorted to giving up and returning to the barracks, he had stumbled upon none other than the woman - girl, really.
The Twelfth Division barracks looked as imposing as ever, its quiet atmosphere inducing more fear than serenity, and she looked so small, even inferior, sitting by its dull gray entrance. Ikkaku had stopped, drawn by curiosity as to what the division's own lieutenant was doing out there, very much resembling a lost puppy. After a while of staring, he had called out to her, and when she looked up at him to give a minute nod as greeting, he could see the fresh cuts around her throat and collarbone. Her uniform itself was torn about the hems, bruises littering her shoulders and legs.
"What the fuck's wrong with ye?" Ikkaku had blurted out without a second thought, taken aback from her appearance, but she merely gave him a look that unsettled him. An hour or so sitting beside her and he still felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck, still had the image of her blank, emotionless stare in his mind.
That, and how he had to try his very best to ignore his conscience berating him for intervening in her private business. His captain never did like the Twelfth Division, said that they were all a bunch of experiment-crazed asswipes who utilised machines and poison and science to fight dirty. Ikkaku, always the loyal member of Eleventh, wholeheartedly agreed, but only in regards to that madman the Twelfth had for its captain.
Ikkaku leaned back against the wall, zanpakuto lying in between his legs, and stole a glance over at the girl. With her head down, face buried in her forearms, she really did look lost. She kept staring forward, as if there was something of interest there in the dirt that only she could see. Once, Ikkaku even considered squinting and trying to see what she saw, but finally went against it, deeming it ridiculous.
She was quite the puzzle to Ikkaku. Sticking around with that madman whose surname she carried was one thing, putting up with his abuse was another. Those cuts on her skin, despite their fast recovery, were terrible - and that was saying something since Ikkaku was very much used to wounds.
The hot sun beat down on them, and Ikkaku had long started to sweat a river. The back of his uniform stuck uncomfortably to his shoulder blades, sweat threatening to slip into his eyes. He forced out a sigh to break such an awkward silence.
"Damned hot today, eh?" he muttered, tipping his head back, and shielded his eyes from the glaring sun. "Wanna go for a drink, kid?"
She turned to him, and he had to look away from her gaze that never failed to send a shiver up his spine. They were orbs belonging to a marionette, emotionless, bottomless pits that swallowed him whole without breaking a sweat.
"No, thank you, Madarame-san," she said, voice a soft murmur that floated on the warm, summer breeze, a sweet melody to Ikkaku's ears. "Captain is expecting me in his lab in a few hours' time."
"To hell with that!" Just as those words left him in a heated yell, he clamped his mouth shut, guilt overriding him as she turned away. Mentally cursing himself, he rose to his feet, zanpakuto steadied on his shoulder, and stood there staring down at her. She didn't budge, eyes trained once more to that special spot on the ground. With an inward sigh, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of her, he turned on his heel and stormed away.
But, before he even reached the entrance gates, he stopped. For one thing though, during that hour or so sitting with her in silence, he managed to piece together whatever made him approach her in the first place. Seeing her all alone there, hurting on the inside as well as on the outside, irritated the hell out of him. The reason behind that, however, was still being evasive, and he'd be damned before he could even figure it out.
To hell with that.
The next thing Ikkaku knew, he was pushing all forms of doubt, of the potential risks and consequences out of his mind, marching right back to the barracks. He came to a halt before her, towering high above her with the sun reflecting off of the top of his bald head.
They stared at each other for a while, Eleventh Division Third Seat out rightly glaring down at the lieutenant.
And then Ikkaku grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet before she could even register the motion. But, even if she were surprised, she didn't make any facial expression to indicate as such. The calm, level-headed exterior remained intact, something that annoyed Ikkaku to no end.
"Madarame-san, I'm afraid I'm not able to acquiesce to your request. The captain does need me back in-"
"Shut the hell up, kid, and jus' follow my lead." Ikkaku flashed her a grin and continued to pull her towards the gates. "That damned captain a'yours ain't got no business with ye in the next couple a'hours, an'," he stressed, seeing as she was about to protest again, "if he wants t'try anythin' funny, he'll have t'come and settle the score with me, ye hear?"
She didn't respond, but to Ikkaku's surprise, she actually allowed him to lead her all the way out of the Twelfth Division compounds and into the streets of the Seireitei. They were running now, and he was pleased to see that she could easily keep up with him.
"That captain a'yours ain't treatin' ye right. I don't know how ye can put up with all his bullshit, an' I don't really wanna know in the first place, but I do know that he doesn't deserve ye." He steered her to a sharp right turn, catching her before she fell.
"But, captain needs me-"
"Captain this, captain that!" Ikkaku hoisted her to her feet, glaring at her. "Y'know what I always say?"
She shook her head, and he, with a playful grin, poked her lightly between her eyebrows.
"To hell with that!"