Happy Birthday Akuni!
Disclaimer: Bleach isn’t mine, nor do I get money from this. Trust me, I’d know.
Title: A Little Advice
Author: Zeffyface
Rating: PG-13? Iunno. Warnings: People having very nasty injuries, cursing?
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo
Words: About 1400
Notes: Akuni’s Birthdaaaaaay! Renji and Ichigo were being annoying and not wanting to write, so I got you some extra Zabimaru? Well, hopefully the thought counts. Also totally hot off the presses, as I finished it five minutes ago. So have a great day despite my poor writing, you deserve it!
A Little Advice
In an increasingly crowded planet, a sixty-floored complex was a great example of mankind’s ability to adapt. Upon losing the ability to spread in two dimensions architects upgraded to three, stretching their creations to the sky. Each floor held its own sectioned world; while inside a person was never reminded of the hundreds of tons of steel and plaster hanging above them. They simply basked in the view below.
Then again, most of these skyscrapers were not designed to have four-story holes ripped into them by spectral horrors of the afterlife.
Brown eyes staring blankly at the impromptu skylight he had created, Ichigo colored himself unimpressed. Already the top floors had begun to groan loudly, and if the rumblings beneath him were anything to go by the floors beneath him were getting close to joining in. He sighed softly, blowing a sweaty lock of orange from his forehead.
How pathetic. Kurosaki Ichigo: Master of Bankai, Stormer of Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, Survivor of Battles Against Captains and Espada Alike, killed by a building. What an epithet that would make. To live through the war against Aizen and his minions and have it end like this. Blinking grit from heavy eyelids, he forced his gaze down his prone form and furiously wished for one last speck of reiatsu.
…Well perhaps a little more than a speck, if the wall laying on top of him was as heavy as his chest seemed to think it was. But with even a tenth of his strength he could brush the impeding tons of rubble away like rice paper. Hell, he had crashed through buildings taller and thicker than this and hopped back up without so much as a rip in his coat.
Huh. Maybe this was some twisted karma.
The thought would have made him chuckle if he wasn’t having enough issues keeping his eyes open. He longed futilely for Zangetsu - to have his sword and partner to pull that final ounce of strength from. But as certain as he was that his numb left arm should not bend that way, he was more that his landing had knocked the old man away, far away.
Still, he mentally groused as universe around him began to slowly crumble and fall, it would have been nice to have that one speck. Maybe he could have used it to fuel his incompetent sensing ability enough to find out if the others were all right. Even just one of them. It would have been nice.
Kurosaki Ichigo, killed by an excess of taupe-colored plaster and office plants. He did his best to smile at his own joke, listening to the crashing of rubble around him. Oddly, the roar of the collapsing structure sounded similar to another, much more familiar battle scream. It was comforting, in its own way. At least he could die pretending it was from something stronger than this.
The wall beside him exploded a moment before the ceiling of his story gave way; the mix of thunder and roaring becoming ear-splitting. He mentally winced at the sudden increase in pressure and waited for the feeling of being crushed alive while plummeting to his doom.
The weight of the wall on him lessened, crumbling away even as the noise kept on. But there was no wind, no dropping sensation to go with it. Hesitantly he cracked one eye open and was met with an expanse of bony white above him. An inch from his head was a fang the length of his arm, its twin buried in the rubble by his hip. He barely had time to blink before he was moving, the floor beneath him cracking and jerking viciously to the left and out into the open air. He felt a strangled cry escape his lips as the move jostled several sprained or broken bones, more of his rubble casing crumbling away until his shoulder touched the bare fang beside him.
Familiar energy washed over his battered senses like a warm balm, causing his heart to give a painful clench in his chest. :Hang on Ichigo, we got ya.:
The double voices echoed oddly in his head, but it was hard to mistake the source. 'Zabimaru?'
Even in his own head Ichigo’s thoughts sounded strangled. The blanketing reiatsu around him tightened as the voices snorted. :Hey, you’re not as dumb as you look. Going down.:
He bit back his mental retort as the sudden swoop of his stomach made his head spin unpleasantly. He closed his eyes and willed himself to concentrate on something besides pain and nausea, in his limited selection of options choosing to analyze the energy immersing him. He had been exposed to it countless times, but never at this level. He could practically touch the fatigue and desperation, the underlying determination and the aching relief at finding...
Stuttering to a fast halt, he flipped his mind back over to pain. It was safer. 'Is touching a Bankai always this...'
:Close? No clue. Never exactly carried someone in my mouth before.: As the plummeting sensation slowed, he let his eyes slide open and watched the world drift past. From the change in reiatsu - that he most certainly was not paying attention to - he guessed his transport felt some guilt for moving him so quickly and was attempting to be more gentle about it.
But there were two things wrong with that thought. One was the idea of Zabimaru ever being gentle, the other...
Carefully, he tried to keep the dread from his inner voice. 'Zabimaru?'
From the amusement he heard sent back to him, he failed. :Yeah?:
But there was no stopping now, so he weakly gritted his teeth and sloughed on. 'Can... Renji feel my reiatsu right now? Like I can feel his?'
:Nah, you’re way too faint.: Ichigo let out a slow breath, daring to feel relief. :But I can.:
And just like that, he was suddenly wishing he knew what being crushed by a building felt like. 'Oh shit. I um, Zabimaru...'
:Oi kid. Before you go off, I can’t sense that much. And the rest is your own stuff to work through when you aren’t all busted up. Now breathe before I bite you.:
Obediently Ichigo inhaled, trying to calm his suddenly fluttering nerves. 'Right. Thanks.'
When the twin voices sounded again, he swore they sounded slyer than Yumichika with a new bit of gossip. :You could tell him, you know.:
'Hell no!'
:Just sayin’.:
'Yeah, well keep it to yourself. He’d never... you know. Rukia and all!'
:You’re pretty much sitting in his feelings and you want to tell me that? Maybe you are as dumb as you look.: The voices in his head sighed, the passing scenery slowing to a halt. :Think about it later, all right?: Ichigo blinked, then flinched as the enormous jaws slowly opened. :There. You’d better not die after I did that.:
Before he could scrape together a reply he was being jostled again, arms sliding under his back and thighs. He heard another faint yell wrenched from his chest when he was jerked from Zabimaru’s jaws, the remaining rubble ripping through the knee of his hakama as a parting gift. The reiatsu of bankai faded, but even as it did the stream of creative cursing in a familiar gravely voice left him in no doubt as to who was holding him.
Large, faintly shaking hands carefully re-arranged him, setting him down and checking his injuries. In truth, even when they brushed something too tender, they were a nice distraction. As was the faint scent of... something beyond blood, sweat, and dust. The hands traveled to his face, moving his field of vision as the voice repeated his name.
As black tattoos and worried red eyes swam into focus, Ichigo dug into his non-existent reserves and managed a small smile. Maybe they were right about it needing less muscles than a frown after all. When he received a shaky one in return it certainly felt worth the effort either way.
Think about it later, huh?
He could do that.