Fic - Bleach Drabbles
Bunch of Bleach drabbles because talking to Renna reminded me that I haven't typed these up yet... they've been sitting in my notebook for... a long time. >_>
Mostly Ichigo/Ishida. Beware the OOC. >_> Also the angst in the last one...
Pairing: Mild Ichigo/Ishida
Rating: PG
Word Challenge: split, punch, ducky floater
Vacation
“The perfect idea! It’s a beach vacation!”
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, turning away. “I’ll pass,” he muttered, wondering just when Asano would give up. It wasn’t the first… or second… or even third time he’d tried this. Only Inoue seemed at all enthusiastic about the idea, which of course meant that Tatsuki would be going too. Even if she wasn’t too enthusiastic about using a duck floater (“I can swim perfectly well, Asano!”).
“And Rukia-chan’s already agreed to go, Ichigo.”
The death glare he’d perfected (through careful tutelage under Renji) went completely to waste as Asano skipped away merrily.
Which was why he was plopped here on the blanket sucking down fruit punch as if there was no tomorrow, a distinctly sour gaze fixed on the girls and Asano frolicking in the water.
At least Ishida had been dragged into this too, Ichigo reflected, eyes softening as he glanced over at the boy lying beside him. He’d convinced him to share a banana split with him, seeing as how no one was near them to… comment. It seemed to be the first time Ishida had ever tried it, and Ichigo had not-so-privately resolved to introduce him to the finer pleasures of life. Soon.
Brown eyes slid over Ishida’s slender frame, the pale skin of his neck. He raised the fruit punch to his lips again to hide a little smirk.
Introduce him to the finer pleasures of life? Now, where should he start…
~fin
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida
Rating: PG-13
Word Challenge: rock-hard abs, curry, shower
Confidence
Rukia had never accused Ishida of being particularly manly. But this was just being cruel, she thought to herself, only half-listening to Ichigo’s little rant.
“Obviously nothing like Chad -”
“Please, that guy’s got rock-hard abs. Rocks would bounce off him.”
“But you’re already so freakin’… femme, and you still dare to sew and cook?”
Rukia wondered exactly where Ichigo thought his clothes and food came from. He made the words “sew” and “cook” sound like an insult! Still… she chalked it up to some peculiar form of male bonding.
“Why not?” Ishida asked calmly, giving the simmering curry a final stir before turning off the flame.
“You’re a braver man that I am,” Ichigo replied, shaking his head. As soon as Ishida turned around, Ichigo sneaked a spoonful of curry into his mouth. “Aren’t you afraid people will say you’re gay?” he mumbled around the food. It was surprisingly good.
“I am.”
Curry sprayed out of Ichigo’s mouth, showering the counter.
Rukia prudently decided to leave. She could buy lunch. She couldn’t buy new eyes, which she knew she’d need after seeing what would happen.
“You what?” Ichigo asked slowly, wiping curry off his lips and swallowing. Ishida turned to him, an amused grin on his face.
“I’m gay,” he repeated slowly, as if talking to a child. Ichigo wasn’t sure he liked the predatory look in Ishida’s eyes. He took an unconscious step back as the dark-haired boy moved disconcertingly close. He, oddly, thought he did sort of like it when Ishida licked off a spot of curry from the corner of his mouth.
“Pretty good,” Ishida murmured, savouring the taste as he moved away, wondering why Rukia had left.
When Ichigo grabbed him and spun him around, he realised why.
~fin
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida, Renji/Byakuya
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Ichigo teaches Ishida soccer
Sensei
“Simple enough, just dribble like this, see?” Ichigo deftly manipulated the white soccer ball between his feet before passing it gently to the dark-haired boy at the end of the field. Hesitantly, Ishida brought the ball over, clumsily mimicking Ichigo at first, but gaining confidence as he went along.
Red hair peeked out from behind a wall, cautiously followed by its owner.
“Good, not pass it to me,” Ichigo called, running backwards as Ishida obediently kicked the ball to him. “Guard the goal, I’ll try and score!”
He would never have imagined, Ishida reflected sourly, that he’d actually have agreed to this hare-brained scheme. Teach him soccer, indeed! It wasn’t as if he needed to know soccer. The game of soccer could not possibly do anything for him, nor could the knowledge. The process though… that might potentially reap benefits.
Belatedly he registered the ball headed to his right and lunged for it, fingers just grazing it as it shot into the goal.
“Pay attention, Ishida!” Ichigo called out, jogging towards the disgruntled Quincy. “But… that was pretty food for a first try,” he added, smiling. “You think it deserves a prize?”
“Rather,” Ishida replied dryly, brushing himself off. He’d dismissed the teasing, almost flirtatious tone of Ichigo’s voice as being nothing more than a product of his imagination. A wishful fancy. So of course it was a little bit of a surprise when Ichigo tackled him to the ground and proceeded to snog him senseless.
Very pleasant surprise though.
Red hair (and its owner) quietly withdrew.
~*~
“I don’t understand, Renji,” Byakuya said in a rare (though well-concealed) moment of confusion. “What is this ‘soccer’ you want to teach me?”
~fin
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Word Challenge: minute, advantage, wheat
Competitive
“Give him a fraction of a minute and he’ll use it to his advantage,” Rukia warned, a smile playing about her lips. Orihime nodded grimly, focusing on the task at hand. She swiftly moulded what she was thinking of, triumphantly holding it up a second before Ishida did.
“I won!” Orihime exclaimed happily. “I beat Ishida-kunn in a cooking competition~ Rukia-chan, would you like a bite?”
“Sure,” Rukia replied with a blissfully innocent (and ignorant) smile. “What is it?”
“A salad! With leek and chicken and honey and soya sauce and wheat flakes!” Orihime proclaimed happily. Rukia blanched involuntarily.
Ichigo leaned over to Ishida and plucked the chicken sandwich out of his hands, taking a bit out of it.
“Somehow, I think I’d prefer to stick to the loser’s food,” he muttered quietly.
Ishida hid a grin of his own.
~fin
Pairing: None; Hitsugaya-centric
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, death(ish)-fic, SPOILERS for the manga ch. 170
Word Challenge: wind, stain, yellow
Wind
Moving at the speed of light is impossible. Nothing moves at the speed of light, nothing but light.
Moving like the wind is a paltry accomplishment, given what lies ahead.
His clothes are stained green and yellow by the grass, the flowers. Dirt clings to him, staining the stains.
He slows. Stops. A hand over the yellow.
Petal-shaped and full of crushed beauty.
Light from the setting sun struck him squarely in his eyes as he looked up, and he closed them, half-blinded. He would never, he thought, suddenly and absolutely sure of himself, he would never make this one feat. He would never gain the ability to move like the light.
You thought of the oddest things in death.
Aizen had moved like lightning. Like light. And had cut down the blustery, weak gale. Hitsugaya fell, eyes open and angry.
It was dark.
~fin
[And this last one reveals, of course, what reading Arundhati Roy does to my frame of mind. It is also absolute proof that my writing is influenced by my reading. ^_^;]
Mostly Ichigo/Ishida. Beware the OOC. >_> Also the angst in the last one...
Pairing: Mild Ichigo/Ishida
Rating: PG
Word Challenge: split, punch, ducky floater
Vacation
“The perfect idea! It’s a beach vacation!”
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, turning away. “I’ll pass,” he muttered, wondering just when Asano would give up. It wasn’t the first… or second… or even third time he’d tried this. Only Inoue seemed at all enthusiastic about the idea, which of course meant that Tatsuki would be going too. Even if she wasn’t too enthusiastic about using a duck floater (“I can swim perfectly well, Asano!”).
“And Rukia-chan’s already agreed to go, Ichigo.”
The death glare he’d perfected (through careful tutelage under Renji) went completely to waste as Asano skipped away merrily.
Which was why he was plopped here on the blanket sucking down fruit punch as if there was no tomorrow, a distinctly sour gaze fixed on the girls and Asano frolicking in the water.
At least Ishida had been dragged into this too, Ichigo reflected, eyes softening as he glanced over at the boy lying beside him. He’d convinced him to share a banana split with him, seeing as how no one was near them to… comment. It seemed to be the first time Ishida had ever tried it, and Ichigo had not-so-privately resolved to introduce him to the finer pleasures of life. Soon.
Brown eyes slid over Ishida’s slender frame, the pale skin of his neck. He raised the fruit punch to his lips again to hide a little smirk.
Introduce him to the finer pleasures of life? Now, where should he start…
~fin
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida
Rating: PG-13
Word Challenge: rock-hard abs, curry, shower
Confidence
Rukia had never accused Ishida of being particularly manly. But this was just being cruel, she thought to herself, only half-listening to Ichigo’s little rant.
“Obviously nothing like Chad -”
“Please, that guy’s got rock-hard abs. Rocks would bounce off him.”
“But you’re already so freakin’… femme, and you still dare to sew and cook?”
Rukia wondered exactly where Ichigo thought his clothes and food came from. He made the words “sew” and “cook” sound like an insult! Still… she chalked it up to some peculiar form of male bonding.
“Why not?” Ishida asked calmly, giving the simmering curry a final stir before turning off the flame.
“You’re a braver man that I am,” Ichigo replied, shaking his head. As soon as Ishida turned around, Ichigo sneaked a spoonful of curry into his mouth. “Aren’t you afraid people will say you’re gay?” he mumbled around the food. It was surprisingly good.
“I am.”
Curry sprayed out of Ichigo’s mouth, showering the counter.
Rukia prudently decided to leave. She could buy lunch. She couldn’t buy new eyes, which she knew she’d need after seeing what would happen.
“You what?” Ichigo asked slowly, wiping curry off his lips and swallowing. Ishida turned to him, an amused grin on his face.
“I’m gay,” he repeated slowly, as if talking to a child. Ichigo wasn’t sure he liked the predatory look in Ishida’s eyes. He took an unconscious step back as the dark-haired boy moved disconcertingly close. He, oddly, thought he did sort of like it when Ishida licked off a spot of curry from the corner of his mouth.
“Pretty good,” Ishida murmured, savouring the taste as he moved away, wondering why Rukia had left.
When Ichigo grabbed him and spun him around, he realised why.
~fin
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida, Renji/Byakuya
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Ichigo teaches Ishida soccer
Sensei
“Simple enough, just dribble like this, see?” Ichigo deftly manipulated the white soccer ball between his feet before passing it gently to the dark-haired boy at the end of the field. Hesitantly, Ishida brought the ball over, clumsily mimicking Ichigo at first, but gaining confidence as he went along.
Red hair peeked out from behind a wall, cautiously followed by its owner.
“Good, not pass it to me,” Ichigo called, running backwards as Ishida obediently kicked the ball to him. “Guard the goal, I’ll try and score!”
He would never have imagined, Ishida reflected sourly, that he’d actually have agreed to this hare-brained scheme. Teach him soccer, indeed! It wasn’t as if he needed to know soccer. The game of soccer could not possibly do anything for him, nor could the knowledge. The process though… that might potentially reap benefits.
Belatedly he registered the ball headed to his right and lunged for it, fingers just grazing it as it shot into the goal.
“Pay attention, Ishida!” Ichigo called out, jogging towards the disgruntled Quincy. “But… that was pretty food for a first try,” he added, smiling. “You think it deserves a prize?”
“Rather,” Ishida replied dryly, brushing himself off. He’d dismissed the teasing, almost flirtatious tone of Ichigo’s voice as being nothing more than a product of his imagination. A wishful fancy. So of course it was a little bit of a surprise when Ichigo tackled him to the ground and proceeded to snog him senseless.
Very pleasant surprise though.
Red hair (and its owner) quietly withdrew.
~*~
“I don’t understand, Renji,” Byakuya said in a rare (though well-concealed) moment of confusion. “What is this ‘soccer’ you want to teach me?”
~fin
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Word Challenge: minute, advantage, wheat
Competitive
“Give him a fraction of a minute and he’ll use it to his advantage,” Rukia warned, a smile playing about her lips. Orihime nodded grimly, focusing on the task at hand. She swiftly moulded what she was thinking of, triumphantly holding it up a second before Ishida did.
“I won!” Orihime exclaimed happily. “I beat Ishida-kunn in a cooking competition~ Rukia-chan, would you like a bite?”
“Sure,” Rukia replied with a blissfully innocent (and ignorant) smile. “What is it?”
“A salad! With leek and chicken and honey and soya sauce and wheat flakes!” Orihime proclaimed happily. Rukia blanched involuntarily.
Ichigo leaned over to Ishida and plucked the chicken sandwich out of his hands, taking a bit out of it.
“Somehow, I think I’d prefer to stick to the loser’s food,” he muttered quietly.
Ishida hid a grin of his own.
~fin
Pairing: None; Hitsugaya-centric
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, death(ish)-fic, SPOILERS for the manga ch. 170
Word Challenge: wind, stain, yellow
Wind
Moving at the speed of light is impossible. Nothing moves at the speed of light, nothing but light.
Moving like the wind is a paltry accomplishment, given what lies ahead.
His clothes are stained green and yellow by the grass, the flowers. Dirt clings to him, staining the stains.
He slows. Stops. A hand over the yellow.
Petal-shaped and full of crushed beauty.
Light from the setting sun struck him squarely in his eyes as he looked up, and he closed them, half-blinded. He would never, he thought, suddenly and absolutely sure of himself, he would never make this one feat. He would never gain the ability to move like the light.
You thought of the oddest things in death.
Aizen had moved like lightning. Like light. And had cut down the blustery, weak gale. Hitsugaya fell, eyes open and angry.
It was dark.
~fin
[And this last one reveals, of course, what reading Arundhati Roy does to my frame of mind. It is also absolute proof that my writing is influenced by my reading. ^_^;]