Comfort Zone
Ok, so I finally got going with my claim for 24hour_themes. I'd had to sortof put it on hold due to the current storyarc and the fact that my claim was for ShinjixHiyori and I didn't want to make up a bunch of shit only to then turn around and have it be totally wrong. But either way, I've gotten working on it now. I've taken creative license with their pasts, as I doubt they'll ever really give us much insight into that. I've seen a lot of people paint them v. similar to Renji and Rukia, with both of them growing up in Rukongai and doing the "let's be shinigami, it'll be a better life" avenue and while that certainly has merit, I've honestly always seen it differently. While I can easily see Hiyori in the role of street urchin, growing up having to scrounge for a living, Shinji seems to me to have a bit too much decorum for that. Not so much in the sense that he's all pompous or anything or that I think he's nobility, but I think too many people forget that not all parts of Rukongai are like Inuzuri or Zaraki, and that the lower numbered districts are actually fairly close to what would be considered middle-class, and that there are normal families there besides the 4 high-ranking clans that the Shihouin and Kuchiki families inhabit. Hence my choice to have Shinji fall into one of those levels instead. Either way, I don't know that I'll be writing these in order -- though I'm going to try -- so just keep your eyes open for a big post with a ton of links on it when I get it all done. In the meantime, enjoy the fiction.
Theme: 13:00
Title: Comfort Zone
Fandom: Bleach
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji x Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: No real spoilers, though I'm using creative license with their past before they were shinigami
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine
Summary: The first time Shinji ever saw Hiyori
The first time that Hirako Shinji ever saw Sarugaki Hiyori, he had to admit that he wasn't very impressed. And honestly, why would anyone be very impressed by the sight of a skinny, scrawny little freckled thing with a snaggletooth and a scowl? About the only redeeming feature the boy could really grant to the girl -- that was a girl, wasn't it? -- was that her hair at least managed to save her appearance from that of completely homely. Long, blond, tumbling down over her shoulders in what -- despite it's somewhat unkempt appearance -- managed to soften the harsher lines that seemed to make up the girl's very person.
Shinji didn't know the girl, in fact he'd never even seen her before in this district until today, when he'd decided to wander around after he finished his lunch at around 1. Not that that meant much of anything, seeing as how new souls appeared in Rukongai daily. But this girl didn't have the same bearing as someone who'd spent time in the 27th district. Her scrappy attitude and the distrustful and wary manner with which she seemed to regard the world were more reminiscent of those who spent their lives fighting for survival in such places as Inuzuri or Zaraki. Not that Shinji would know firsthand what those places were like. After all, he'd never lived there. Unlike so many of the souls who simply existed, who made small family groups of mismatched individuals who managed to glean a living, he'd always had a family. He'd been born here. And while he certainly wasn't nobility, not by any means, it was still a step up. At least, that's how he considered it.
It wasn't that he'd considered himself "better" or "higher" than the others around him -- not the way that he'd heard nobles like the Kuchiki did -- but he just didn't have the same appreciation for their situation. In a word, he was middle-class. And that was just fine with him. It didn't bring him any prestige or anything of the sort, but at least it made sure he had food in his stomach and a roof over his head, something that many in Rukongai went without. And people like her, people who seemed almost feral in their natures... they just didn't exist in this part of his world. Which was possibly why her presence intrigued him so. It was different than anyone he'd really seen before, and in some way it was almost threatening to his own youthful view of his world, the security that while others in the world lived in much more dire straits, his little bubble was still intact.
Perhaps it was the difference he perceived in the girl -- besides the fact that she was younger than him and he was bored with nothing to do -- that prompted him to make his way across the field to plop down beside her with a grin and introduce himself. Or maybe it was that he wanted to see for himself if she really was a girl.
Either way, all it got him was a look that plainly said "the hell do you want" before the girl in question went right back to noisily gobbling down the purloined riceball clutched tightly in her fist. His own eyebrows furrowing together in mild annoyance, he repeated his greeting as though it would somehow cause something to click in her head and those things called "manners" that he'd been taught about as a child would kick in and she'd act... well, like a normal person and not some uncouth monkey.
Which was precisely what he told her she reminded him of when the only response he got was a noncommital grunt.
And so it was that Hirako Shinji found himself, for the first time in his fourteen years, lying flat on his back and staring up at the afternoon sun, beaten into the ground by a girl half his age wielding a sandal in one hand and a half-eaten riceball in the other. Of course, he would always reason to himself later -- as he would with all the successive beatings to follow -- that if he'd really wanted to stop her, or if she hadn't caught him off-guard, he could have easily stopped her.
Theme: 13:00
Title: Comfort Zone
Fandom: Bleach
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji x Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: No real spoilers, though I'm using creative license with their past before they were shinigami
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine
Summary: The first time Shinji ever saw Hiyori
The first time that Hirako Shinji ever saw Sarugaki Hiyori, he had to admit that he wasn't very impressed. And honestly, why would anyone be very impressed by the sight of a skinny, scrawny little freckled thing with a snaggletooth and a scowl? About the only redeeming feature the boy could really grant to the girl -- that was a girl, wasn't it? -- was that her hair at least managed to save her appearance from that of completely homely. Long, blond, tumbling down over her shoulders in what -- despite it's somewhat unkempt appearance -- managed to soften the harsher lines that seemed to make up the girl's very person.
Shinji didn't know the girl, in fact he'd never even seen her before in this district until today, when he'd decided to wander around after he finished his lunch at around 1. Not that that meant much of anything, seeing as how new souls appeared in Rukongai daily. But this girl didn't have the same bearing as someone who'd spent time in the 27th district. Her scrappy attitude and the distrustful and wary manner with which she seemed to regard the world were more reminiscent of those who spent their lives fighting for survival in such places as Inuzuri or Zaraki. Not that Shinji would know firsthand what those places were like. After all, he'd never lived there. Unlike so many of the souls who simply existed, who made small family groups of mismatched individuals who managed to glean a living, he'd always had a family. He'd been born here. And while he certainly wasn't nobility, not by any means, it was still a step up. At least, that's how he considered it.
It wasn't that he'd considered himself "better" or "higher" than the others around him -- not the way that he'd heard nobles like the Kuchiki did -- but he just didn't have the same appreciation for their situation. In a word, he was middle-class. And that was just fine with him. It didn't bring him any prestige or anything of the sort, but at least it made sure he had food in his stomach and a roof over his head, something that many in Rukongai went without. And people like her, people who seemed almost feral in their natures... they just didn't exist in this part of his world. Which was possibly why her presence intrigued him so. It was different than anyone he'd really seen before, and in some way it was almost threatening to his own youthful view of his world, the security that while others in the world lived in much more dire straits, his little bubble was still intact.
Perhaps it was the difference he perceived in the girl -- besides the fact that she was younger than him and he was bored with nothing to do -- that prompted him to make his way across the field to plop down beside her with a grin and introduce himself. Or maybe it was that he wanted to see for himself if she really was a girl.
Either way, all it got him was a look that plainly said "the hell do you want" before the girl in question went right back to noisily gobbling down the purloined riceball clutched tightly in her fist. His own eyebrows furrowing together in mild annoyance, he repeated his greeting as though it would somehow cause something to click in her head and those things called "manners" that he'd been taught about as a child would kick in and she'd act... well, like a normal person and not some uncouth monkey.
Which was precisely what he told her she reminded him of when the only response he got was a noncommital grunt.
And so it was that Hirako Shinji found himself, for the first time in his fourteen years, lying flat on his back and staring up at the afternoon sun, beaten into the ground by a girl half his age wielding a sandal in one hand and a half-eaten riceball in the other. Of course, he would always reason to himself later -- as he would with all the successive beatings to follow -- that if he'd really wanted to stop her, or if she hadn't caught him off-guard, he could have easily stopped her.