Undertones
Series: Bleach
Characters: Izuru, Gin
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns Bleach.
For ephemery_writes.
Title: Undertones
Rating: G
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Gin has his own ways of cheering up a distressed lieutenant.
For the first time in a long while, Izuru found himself bedridden in the barracks of the 4th Division. He found it difficult to breathe on his own without some sort of aid, and his body lacked movement. The most he could do at that moment was turn his head and sit up. Other actions upset his nerves, and he felt a surge of pain whenever he tried to plant his feet on the ground.
In short, he was unable to walk.
He berated himself for winding up in the emergency care in the first place. A simple mission had gone completely wrong. Scouting out and eliminating huge hollows were no problem, that much he could take on. But that was all for when he was alone. The one time he had been suggested to take more shinigami for safety precautions winded up being the reason he was physically ill. Apparently a new recruit had managed to sneak his way into the group to prove himself, and Izuru had ended up throwing himself between the former and a hollow to put the other out of harm's way. Which wasn't smart in the least.
Without doubt, hollows with extra appendages were the worst. The blond had been told he was quite lucky. After all, any longer and more pressure would have been added to the crushing grip the creature had had on him, thus snapping him in half. He tried not to think of it.
More importantly, he was not happy at the fact that he had been in the 4th Division's care for a whole week. And he was to stay for another seven days according to Isane. Gin did his share of the paperwork, contrary to very popular belief, but when swamped with work the fox-faced man couldn't finish them all in time. He would have been content with working on the reports while in bed, but Retsu refused him the privilege, chiding that he needed to rest without disturbance to ensure swift recovery.
That didn't stop Gin from visiting every now and then, however. The man often came around noon, shortly after meal time. He had visited twice out of seven days, and they were short comings. They greeted each other, and that seemed to be it. They never really conversed either times Gin had stopped by. That did not upset the blond in the least, he was surprised that the silver-haired shinigami even bothered to see him when he was undoubtedly busy with making up two people's worth of work.
Izuru sighed, looking up to glare at the creases on the blanket where his dysfunctional legs laid under. Three days ago his arms had fully recovered. His throat was doing better, he could speak normally now. But even now, his blasted feet refused to carry him. He hadn't been allowed out of the bed lest someone moved him around, and he knew for sure that he would experience merciless cramps once he could do the moving himself.
He let out a grunt of frustration, proceeding to stare at the wooden ceiling above him.
"I see yer doin' better, Izuru."
A gasp of surprise, and Gin nearly witnessed his adjutant falling unceremoniously off the bed. But much to his dismay, he was denied some amusement when the younger shinigami managed to catch himself in time, holding frantically onto the rim of a nightstand.
"I-Ichimaru-taichou, that was unnecessary." The blond choked as he relaxed to get his heart rate back to normal. He felt strangely uncomfortable.
The smile only grew wider from its already impossible length. He leaned his shoulder against the side of the room's entrance, his arms crossed. "Maa, but it would have been interestin' to see ya fall. By th' way," his eyes wondered away from his lieutenant's face, "ya going to get back up or am I goin' to have to do it?"
Confused, Izuru followed his captain's gaze, his eyes resting on the lower half of his body. It must have been a comical sight; he was currently facing the floor, holding dearly onto a nightstand to save himself from a short fall, and his lifeless legs were twisted from the initial movement he had made earlier. No wonder he had felt weird. He could feel his face heating up, and merely looked back at Gin.
The smile remained in place as the man pushed off from the door and approached the blond. It took no effort on the former's part to get the latter back onto the bed in a comfortable position.
His adjutant merely looked away, clearing his throat. "Thank you, taichou."
Gin turned without a response, and the younger shinigami knew he was departing. Because of his position the stay had been slightly longer than usual, but this visit definitely topped the embarrassment category. And he thought the first time had been bad when it felt as though the silver-haired man had been laughing at him. No, this was far worse. He wouldn't hear the end of it.
Having expected the man to simply leave without a word, Izuru had been absentmindedly staring out the window on the other side of the room, and was completely caught surprised when a voice interrupted his daydreaming. He nearly yelled, but managed to keep the volume under control.
"Izuru."
He slowly turned, unsure of what to expect as he once again met the captain's infamous and notorious smile. It was very wide now, the man's lips were literally touching the sides of his cheeks, and the mere sight was indescribable. The blond quickly pushed that thought aside as he responded slowly, but cautiously.
"Yes...?"
"I don' think my lieutenan' is weak. Or are ya?" He spoke casually, but Izuru understood the underlying message he was sending over. With that said, the man finally departed for real, closing the door quietly behind him.
A deep breath, and he found himself lying against the soft pillow, back to square one. He looked up at the ceiling, contemplating his captain's words. He hadn't called him weak, no, that was not it. There was another meaning that only he could have understood when directed at him. Get well soon. And maybe with an additional, I can't do all the paperwork by myself. Gin acted as if he was naturally void of real emotions, and many deemed the silver-haired shinigami to be cold and - in battle - ruthless. They just didn't realize that the 3rd Division's leader had his own ways of displaying his concern to others.
Though Izuru was pretty sure that Gin wasn't worried about him. The latter knew he would recover in time, but just hearing the words of encouragement made the atmosphere feel lighter for the blond. And from that he knew he would be out of the 4th Division's barracks before seven days passed.
Characters: Izuru, Gin
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns Bleach.
For ephemery_writes.
Title: Undertones
Rating: G
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Gin has his own ways of cheering up a distressed lieutenant.
For the first time in a long while, Izuru found himself bedridden in the barracks of the 4th Division. He found it difficult to breathe on his own without some sort of aid, and his body lacked movement. The most he could do at that moment was turn his head and sit up. Other actions upset his nerves, and he felt a surge of pain whenever he tried to plant his feet on the ground.
In short, he was unable to walk.
He berated himself for winding up in the emergency care in the first place. A simple mission had gone completely wrong. Scouting out and eliminating huge hollows were no problem, that much he could take on. But that was all for when he was alone. The one time he had been suggested to take more shinigami for safety precautions winded up being the reason he was physically ill. Apparently a new recruit had managed to sneak his way into the group to prove himself, and Izuru had ended up throwing himself between the former and a hollow to put the other out of harm's way. Which wasn't smart in the least.
Without doubt, hollows with extra appendages were the worst. The blond had been told he was quite lucky. After all, any longer and more pressure would have been added to the crushing grip the creature had had on him, thus snapping him in half. He tried not to think of it.
More importantly, he was not happy at the fact that he had been in the 4th Division's care for a whole week. And he was to stay for another seven days according to Isane. Gin did his share of the paperwork, contrary to very popular belief, but when swamped with work the fox-faced man couldn't finish them all in time. He would have been content with working on the reports while in bed, but Retsu refused him the privilege, chiding that he needed to rest without disturbance to ensure swift recovery.
That didn't stop Gin from visiting every now and then, however. The man often came around noon, shortly after meal time. He had visited twice out of seven days, and they were short comings. They greeted each other, and that seemed to be it. They never really conversed either times Gin had stopped by. That did not upset the blond in the least, he was surprised that the silver-haired shinigami even bothered to see him when he was undoubtedly busy with making up two people's worth of work.
Izuru sighed, looking up to glare at the creases on the blanket where his dysfunctional legs laid under. Three days ago his arms had fully recovered. His throat was doing better, he could speak normally now. But even now, his blasted feet refused to carry him. He hadn't been allowed out of the bed lest someone moved him around, and he knew for sure that he would experience merciless cramps once he could do the moving himself.
He let out a grunt of frustration, proceeding to stare at the wooden ceiling above him.
"I see yer doin' better, Izuru."
A gasp of surprise, and Gin nearly witnessed his adjutant falling unceremoniously off the bed. But much to his dismay, he was denied some amusement when the younger shinigami managed to catch himself in time, holding frantically onto the rim of a nightstand.
"I-Ichimaru-taichou, that was unnecessary." The blond choked as he relaxed to get his heart rate back to normal. He felt strangely uncomfortable.
The smile only grew wider from its already impossible length. He leaned his shoulder against the side of the room's entrance, his arms crossed. "Maa, but it would have been interestin' to see ya fall. By th' way," his eyes wondered away from his lieutenant's face, "ya going to get back up or am I goin' to have to do it?"
Confused, Izuru followed his captain's gaze, his eyes resting on the lower half of his body. It must have been a comical sight; he was currently facing the floor, holding dearly onto a nightstand to save himself from a short fall, and his lifeless legs were twisted from the initial movement he had made earlier. No wonder he had felt weird. He could feel his face heating up, and merely looked back at Gin.
The smile remained in place as the man pushed off from the door and approached the blond. It took no effort on the former's part to get the latter back onto the bed in a comfortable position.
His adjutant merely looked away, clearing his throat. "Thank you, taichou."
Gin turned without a response, and the younger shinigami knew he was departing. Because of his position the stay had been slightly longer than usual, but this visit definitely topped the embarrassment category. And he thought the first time had been bad when it felt as though the silver-haired man had been laughing at him. No, this was far worse. He wouldn't hear the end of it.
Having expected the man to simply leave without a word, Izuru had been absentmindedly staring out the window on the other side of the room, and was completely caught surprised when a voice interrupted his daydreaming. He nearly yelled, but managed to keep the volume under control.
"Izuru."
He slowly turned, unsure of what to expect as he once again met the captain's infamous and notorious smile. It was very wide now, the man's lips were literally touching the sides of his cheeks, and the mere sight was indescribable. The blond quickly pushed that thought aside as he responded slowly, but cautiously.
"Yes...?"
"I don' think my lieutenan' is weak. Or are ya?" He spoke casually, but Izuru understood the underlying message he was sending over. With that said, the man finally departed for real, closing the door quietly behind him.
A deep breath, and he found himself lying against the soft pillow, back to square one. He looked up at the ceiling, contemplating his captain's words. He hadn't called him weak, no, that was not it. There was another meaning that only he could have understood when directed at him. Get well soon. And maybe with an additional, I can't do all the paperwork by myself. Gin acted as if he was naturally void of real emotions, and many deemed the silver-haired shinigami to be cold and - in battle - ruthless. They just didn't realize that the 3rd Division's leader had his own ways of displaying his concern to others.
Though Izuru was pretty sure that Gin wasn't worried about him. The latter knew he would recover in time, but just hearing the words of encouragement made the atmosphere feel lighter for the blond. And from that he knew he would be out of the 4th Division's barracks before seven days passed.