Bleach- "Who in the Hell are You?"
This sucks beyond all measure, but it's out of my system and now, now I can do homework again. Right.
Title: Who in the Hell are You?
Author: Celeste
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: Parallel piece to "How in the Hell Did I Lose to You?" and “How in the Hell Did I Get Stuck With You?”
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: lightly IbaxIsane, mentions of ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira, Renji, Unohana
Warnings/Spoilers: Whole Soul Society Arc and parts of the Arrankar arc, lots of speculation on backstory that is probably wrong. Plus OOC and completely strange tangents. ^^;;
Word Count: 4,420
Time: Days’n days’n days. -_-;;
Summary: Iba is a thug at heart.
Dedication: God this is such crack (and badly done at that). Um. How about for Greg, as thanks for driving us around yesterday?
A/N: I know, I lied. I said I’d start on the Kenpachi arc but then this pairing bit me in the ass when I was doing my requests for bleach_exchange and I decided I needed an obligatory het request. I thought about something cracky and fun that I might like to see, and thus this idea was born. For some reason I’m all gun-ho about getting started on it myself, to see how it goes. I don’t think it went particularly well, but at least the set-up is out of my system. Um. Three more to go? Kenpachi will have to wait, I suppose. I suck. --;; Also, I don’t really know how head injuries work, but I’m going to assume Iba doesn’t use his enough for there to be too much damage. O.o
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
The fourth division hospice was in an uproar after preliminary reports of a routine patrol gone wrong, the communications indicating that the incident involved various members of Komamura’s seventh division in an ambush by several lowly ranked Arrankar.
Beds were prepared quickly and medication readied. Komamura-taichou arrived at the gates first, members of his division carrying the wounded from the patrol.
“Treat my men!” the giant beast-captain demanded, one of his eyes bloodied but otherwise looking unharmed himself.
The fourth division members rushed forward to take the wounded and reluctant seventh division members were forced aside, some told outright to leave.
“Oi…do what they say…get the hell outta here if ya ain’t hurt!” one man shouted amidst the confusion, before groaning and collapsing onto the ground.
“Fukutaichou!”
“Fukutaichou, are you okay?!”
“Out of the way!” Isane ordered, pushing past the group surrounding the seventh division vice-captain and kneeling beside him. Turning him gently onto his back, the young woman blinked at the familiar face lolling back up at her, the sight of which momentarily caused her to freeze in surprise.
“Kotetsu-fukutaichou? What’s the matter?” an orderly asked, touching her shoulder.
Stirred back into the present world, the young vice-captain shook her head. “Sorry, nothing. Just one moment.” She quickly got over her surprise at seeing him here and moved to do her job, seeking out her patient’s injuries and assessing the situation quickly. “Stretcher! We’ve got a head wound here!” she shouted upon feeling blood sticking to her fingertips.
“Oi…” Iba started, feeling hands on his head. “I…”
“Please don’t speak, Iba-san. You’re bleeding quite profusely.”
The medics responded quickly to their vice-captain’s orders and they transferred the dully blinking second seat onto the canvass, clearing a path down the long hallways of the fourth division hospital as they carried him towards a room.
“Taichou! I’ve got this one!” Kotetsu announced to Unohana over her shoulder, rolling up her sleeves as they walked. “Let’s get him to a room and out of the way.”
Iba frowned at the words, the edges of his vision blurry. “Oi… is…”
“Quiet, please,” she urged, the vice-captain feeling himself being taken further down the hall, away from Komamura’s worriedly irate shouting.
“But…taichou… is taichou…”
“He’s fine, fukutaichou. Please be quiet,” Isane pressed, resting her palm over Iba’s forehead as they headed towards one of the rooms they’d set up earlier. “Now just relax…”
He felt warm suddenly, like he’d drunk a cup of hot cocoa too fast, and while it was nice in its own way, he didn’t want to be drugged into complacency by her reiatsu so quickly, not when he didn’t know the condition of his men.
“Waitaminute now…” he muttered, shaking free of her hold, the motion causing the throbbing in his skull to come back full force. “Ah fuck… just… is… one of the guys… Shintarou… he uh… his leg…”
“Shhh, just relax, fukutaichou. Your men are in good hands. Unohana-taichou will take care of the worst. Now please…” she put her hand back over his forehead. “Don’t move too much now, okay?”
Somehow soothed by the steady confidence in her voice, Iba let himself fall back a little, her palm cool on his hot skin, the reiatsu soothing his tense muscles. “Er…’kay… I uh…”
“Please don’t fall asleep just yet though,” she instructed him softly. “Not until I can discern the nature of your injury.”
“Bastard ah…bastards snuck up. Just a bump on the head, I…”
“Shhh. Relax and concentrate on not falling asleep, okay? I’m sure you’ll be fine, but I just want to make sure before I let you go.”
“Er…’kay.”
He didn’t quite get how he was supposed to relax and at the same time, not fall asleep, but he tried anyway because she’d asked so nicely. Before long, that warm feeling settled his confusion and everything started to feel a little bit nice. “I uh… I think’m fallin’… fallin’… er…asleep,” he managed to warn her, eyelids growing heavy.
“It’s alright, fukutaichou. It looks like you’ll be fine. So please sleep now.” She told him, slowly removing her hand.
“But the uh…the men…”
“I’ll come back and personally give you a progress report on them after you’ve woken, is that alright?”
“Yeah….sounds…good.”
He fell asleep.
~~~~~
He woke up what felt like a few hours later, stirred to consciousness by that familiar warm sensation. It felt slightly different before however, less probing and more direct, like it was weaving in and out of his bones and muscles, strengthening everything inside of him quickly and neatly.
“Ugh,” he grunted, when he’d meant to say, “Whozzat?”
“Hello, fukutaichou,” a familiar voice greeted, the warm feeling letting up. “I’m just about done here, so please feel free to go back to sleep when I leave…”
“Whozzat?” he managed, on the second try.
“My name is Isane,” she started, carefully. “I’m the fourth division vice-captain and you are my patient for the time being.” She watched his reaction.
He blinked, but the name obviously didn’t register.
He didn’t recognize her.
Part of her felt disappointed, a little bit angry even. But she supposed it couldn’t be helped. Years had passed since she’d last spoken to him, and in that time, she had changed quite dramatically from the shy, virtually silent girl she’d once been.
There was no reason for the groggy vice-captain to remember her.
It still bothered her somehow though, and she wondered if she might remind him of their acquaintance if only to prove to him that the things he’d said to her those many years ago had turned out to be wrong after all.
But before she could say anything, he asked, throat dry, “How’re the men?”
“Shintarou-san’s leg is being operated on by Unohana-taichou and Iemura-san as we speak,” she reported brusquely. “They’ll be able to reattach it completely, I believe.”
The vice-captain let out a tired breath. “Shit. Took it off after all, huh? Didn’t push him outta the way in time.”
“I’m sure it’s not your fault,” she told him, oddly touched by how strongly he felt on the subject of one rookie patrolman. Maybe she hadn’t been the only one to go through some changes since they’d last seen one another.
Feeling guilty about her rather selfish thoughts moments before, she softened her tone. “You did what you could, I’m sure.”
“Still,” he muttered, already halfway asleep again. “Taichou…took ‘em out pretty easy. Forget sometimes, how big the difference is…”
“Please don’t worry about it anymore, Iba-san. Just concentrate on getting better, ne?”
“Yeah…’kay.”
He was out again.
Looking down ruefully at the man snoring with his mouth open, Isane furrowed her brow, trying very hard to reconcile the man she’d just seen with the senpai who had bullied her constantly throughout the majority of her academy career.
Had he really changed so much after all this time?
~~~~~
He had visitors later, Hisagi and Ikkaku and Renji storming the infirmary and demanding (in their most civil tones) where their friend was being held.
Shuuhei, being the most polite of the trio, managed to grab the attention of an orderly and Isane watched as the young girl led the three of them down towards Iba’s room.
Frowning, she didn’t think he was up to so many visitors (and such infamously raucous ones at that), and moved to intercept.
“May I help you gentlemen?”
Shuuhei smiled at her. “Yo, Isane. Er…just here to see if the big idiot’s okay,” he explained.
She crossed her arms. “He’s sleeping. As well he should be.”
“Aw c’mon,” Ikkaku started. “We’ll be quiet.”
“Yeah! Real quiet,” Renji agreed.
The three of them looked so earnest she wondered at their self-proclaimed reputations of tough-guy-ness. Sighing, she conceded. “But one at a time and only because it’s about time I went in to wake him up anyway.”
“How’s he doin’?” Ikkaku prompted. “Heard he got beaned pretty hard on the head.”
“He’ll be fine,” she told the new third division vice-captain calmly, leading them towards Iba’s room.
Renji grinned and elbowed the bald death god. “See? Told ya. Iba don’t really use anythin’ in his head anyways, so that’s the safest place fer him to get hit.”
Ikkaku and Shuuhei snickered a little, and Isane shot them hard looks. “His injuries are no joking matter, gentlemen.”
Sobering quickly, the three apologized much like a trio of elementary schoolboys who had gotten caught for putting a tack in teacher’s chair. “Sorry!”
She didn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated, and urging them once more to be quiet, opened the door to the room.
They silenced themselves immediately, and she waved Shuuhei in with her first. “One at a time. Everyone will get a turn,” she reminded Renji and Ikkaku when they looked like they wanted to protest Hisagi getting to go in first.
Shuuhei frowned when he saw his friend sprawled out on his bed like he’d fallen into it, drooling all over his pillow as he snored obnoxiously away. “He doesn’t look any different from normal,” he admitted, eyeing Kotetsu-fukutaichou. “Sure he got hurt?”
“Quite sure, Hisagi-taichou,” she assured him, before brushing past the other death god and rolling up her sleeves. “Iba-san,” she urged, gently shaking him. “Iba-san, please wake up, you have a visitor.”
“Murgh.”
Iba snorted, drew the back of his hand across his mouth to catch his drool, and promptly rolled over.
He started snoring again.
She shook him a little harder. “Iba-san, wake up.”
“Mrrr.”
Shuuhei sighed at his best friend. “Yeah. He sounds fine.”
“Well, in either case, someone with a head injury needs to be woken up every few hours regardless of how he or she sounds…”
“Oi, Iba! Up the skirt shot, ten o’clock!” Shuuhei suddenly blurted, causing Isane to jump.
“Taichou!” she started. “Please be…”
“I love a windy day!” Iba shouted, sitting up almost instantly. “Where’s it at?”
“Mornin’ asshole,” Shuuhei greeted, looking on rather smugly.
Iba groaned and grabbed his head, having been jolted from his sleep too quickly. “Bastard…ain’t no skirts in here.”
“Yeah well. Be a good boy’n wake up for the nice doctor, huh? At least you get the privilege of her bein’ obligated to touch your ugly mug.”
Iba blinked, obviously very confused. “Er?”
“You’re in the fourth division hospice, Iba-san,” Isane stepped in. “You’ve been sleeping since the attack on your patrol this morning. I know things might be a bit confusing, and I’ll ask that you please relax and refrain from any further abrupt movements…”
The other vice-captain looked at her. “Oh. Right. This mornin’. I forgot.”
“Ain’t a surprise,” Shuuhei grunted. “Heard that useless head of yours might have gotten even more empty after what happened, after all.”
Iba scowled. “Aw, shaddup. Damned embarrassing as it is, asshole.”
“Gentlemen, please,” Isane chastised, running her hands up along under Iba’s jaw as she looked into his eyes. After a moment, she pulled back, proclaiming, “Well, I have to say… you look remarkably well for someone who collapsed in the hallway just a few hours earlier,” before moving to check the bandages at the back of his head.
Shuuhei grinned. “Haha, I told you that fool head of yours wasn’t holdin’ anything important,” he teased, though it was apparent that he was relieved for the other man.
“Get the hell outta here,” Iba muttered, tossing his spare pillow at his friend. “Pain in my ass. Can’t even let an injured fella rest peacefully and recover.”
Shuuhei caught it. “Karma, Iba. ‘s Gotta be karma.”
“Karma my ass,” Iba shot back, growing antsy under Isane’s gentle touch.
Hisagi laughed. “It’s gotta be. I mean, look who you’re caretaker is.”
Iba grunted. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Shuuhei grinned. “Don’t act like you haven’t done anything, ya big chicken. We both know better.”
Isane looked up at Shuuhei. “Hisagi-taichou, please… let’s not speak of such things,” she said, gamely keeping her voice level though she felt rather embarrassed that Shuuhei would raise the issue in such a way. “It’s been a long time, after all,” she murmured.
Iba turned to face her then, blinking when the quick motion made him a little dizzy. “Huh?” he asked. “Long time since what?”
Shuuhei blinked at that. “Waitaiminute…don’t tell me you don’t…” he turned to Isane. “He really don’t?”
She sighed. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant to Iba-san’s injury, taichou. And don’t you think it’s about time to let one of the other two in?”
“Wait… what the hell is he talkin’ about?” Iba pushed, swatting absently at Isane’s hands. “I’m confused.”
“You hit your head,” she explained.
He scowled. “I know that.”
“You shouldn’t stress yourself over nothing, Iba-san. It’s not good for your injury.”
He snorted. “Yeah well, neither is bein’ confused by yours and his weirdo conversations. The hell’re you goin’ on about, Hisagi?”
Shuuhei looked as if he was going to say something, but a sharp glance from Isane killed the words in his throat. “Ah, nothin’, I guess. I’ll go get Ikkaku.”
“Oi, waitaminute, asshole, I’m talkin’…”
“Please sit still, Iba-san,” Isane requested levelly, placing her hands on his shoulders to keep him from lunging after his friend. “I’m not quite done here yet.”
Momentarily cowed, he relaxed backwards. “Sorry. Just… I don’t get it.”
She managed a small smile at that. “I’m sure it’s nothing important.”
He looked as if he was going to respond, but Madarame burst into the room then, demanding to know how a former fellow eleventh officer managed to get his ass kicked so thoroughly during something as simple as a routine patrol.
Though it was a bit noisier than she would have liked, Isane couldn’t help but be a little grateful for the distraction.
~~~~~
He’d bullied her at academy, calling her names and constantly making fun of her messy hair and baggy clothes.
She’d stood and taken it all and never said anything back really, because she’d always been shy, always been bad at talking with people, hostile or not.
And so she remembers him laughing at her for her weak performances on physical tests and how easily strained she’d been back then, when they’d been learning their kidoh.
He’d always been one of the strong ones, all muscle and big talk and self-confidence. Fast and powerful, he was a senpai that was admired by many of the younger boys for his fighting ability. Enough so that his mediocre scores on demon arts and paper tests were mostly ignored.
She remembered envying him just a little bit for that, for being able to take what he was good at and turn it into the focus of his character, while she excelled at the things he didn’t and at the same time, somehow sunk into the background, quiet and bookish and smart but never all that strong.
Kiyone had known her neesan was being bullied and railed against it, demanding that Isane stand up for herself and give the big brute what he deserved.
She’d only smiled at the young one and told her that violence didn’t always solve everything.
The elder sister couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, if Kiyone had watched her and decided to be everything Isane was not, decided to be strong and loud and never allow anyone to push her into the background without a fight.
Sometimes Isane wished she could go back and tell Iba-san that she didn’t appreciate his cruel words, didn’t understand what could have possibly possessed him to pick on her especially when he’d always been chivalrous (if somewhat chauvinistic) to the other girls in the school, opening doors and protecting his female teammates, offering to carry heavy things and complimenting pretty girls on how nice they looked.
She knew she hadn’t been outstanding amongst her class, hadn’t seemed particularly pretty even, but it seemed like she had been the only one he’d ever gone out of his way to ridicule.
To be honest though, what bothered her the most was that she was still thinking about it today, like she’d suddenly reverted back to being the timid wallflower she’d once been, merely because of her unexpected run-in with her former tormentor.
Bygones should have been bygones after all, and she’d grown so much from the silent, tomboyish little girl she’d been back then. She was a vice-captain now, the same as him, and should have commanded the same respect even if their strengths were of different kinds.
The fact that she was preoccupied with her past image of Iba Tetsuzaemon bothered her as well, because it meant that perhaps she hadn’t really grown all that much at all.
And he apparently had, because he couldn’t even remember her face.
“Is something bothering you, Isane?”
She looked up as Unoahana-taichou stepped into the room, looking weary but not in any way affected by that weariness, pristine and calm as ever.
“Ah, no, taichou. Nothing,” she lied, quickly.
The captain’s eyes were gentle. “Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away,” she murmured, seating herself in her chair and pouring them both a cup of tea from the pot Isane had just placed on Unohana’s desk. “You seem preoccupied.”
“Ah…it’s just, something silly, taichou,” she murmured, blushing in shame.
“Well then, it won’t be so much trouble to talk about, will it? I’ve had a rather tiring day and I’d like to just sit down and have a nice chat with someone while I have my tea.” The fourth division leader smiled beatifically.
Isane looked at her captain reluctantly, those easy, serene eyes looking back expectantly.
Sighing, she took a seat.
~~~~~
They snuck into the infirmary a few hours later under the cover of darkness.
There was booze and a deck of cards and a bento packed with ‘get-well-soon-love’ from Yumichika, who said it was impolite to go the hospital and not bring a gift.
The booze was the actual gift, but Hisagi had supposed it would be best to leave that part out of the “We’re gonna go see Iba in the hospital” explanation.
“I don’t believe it,” Renji had muttered, upon Shuuhei’s revelation of what had transpired in their friend’s hospital room earlier. “He don’t remember what a jackass he was to her at all?”
“Dunno, seems like it. You know he wasn’t ever any good at things that required thinking.”
“Guess not,” Renji acknowledged. “But still. It’s not like Isane-san was hard to miss or anything.”
Ikkaku had no idea what they were talking about, never having gone through the academy process himself (having had the benefits of entering the Gotei-13 as one captain usurped another and getting to ride in on the coattails, so to speak).
“Look, it couldn’ta been that bad, could it? I mean, Iba’s an ass on a good day, but he don’t make a habit of bullyin’ girls. Against the code.”
Shuuhei’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, that was a bit weird.”
“Yeah,” Renji echoed. “Weird.”
The bald death god rolled his eyes and snatched the bottle of alcohol out from under Renji’s arm1. “Look, ya great idiots, let’s just ask him when we get there, right? Tryin’ to figure out a moron like Tetsuzaemon ain’t doin’ us any good. ‘Specially when it’s you two idiots tryin’ to do the figurin’. You just know that ain’t gonna lead anywhere productive.”
The other men frowned. “Oi…”
“All I’m sayin’,” Ikkaku started, slowly (for their benefit), “is that it’s gonna be as simple as remindin’ him, and then as simple as askin’ him why. I don’t understand why the hell you two’ve gotta be such women about it and try to suss it all out fer yourselves.”
Hisagi and Abarai blinked.
They supposed they couldn’t argue with that, really.
They found Iba sleeping in his room and tossed wadded up pieces of paper at him until he woke up, snickering to themselves while trying to keep it down in case a patrolling orderly was nearby.
“Mmmph, the hell’re you assholes doin’ here?”
Renji grinned. “We brought booze.”
“And cards,” Ikkaku added.
“Er, and…food, I guess,” Shuuhei finished, holding out the bento awkwardly. “Better eat it though, asshole. Yumi worked hard.”
Iba blinked, blearily. “Booze, ya say?”
“Yup!”
The vice-captain began to wake up in earnest. “Deal ‘em up, boys.”
Several hands and an enormous empty bottle of booze later, Hisagi suddenly remembered that he’d had a question, and turned to Iba. “Oi, Iba.”
“What?” the injured man grunted, brow furrowed as he concentrated on his cards.
“Woah there,” Renji warned, observing his former teammate. “Don’t think too hard will ya? Probably put what’s left of your brain outta commission.”
“Shaddup,” Iba snarled, reaching out to cuff the redhead upside the head. “Ain’t you ever heard that aggravatin’ a patient don’t help them heal none?”
“Oi,” Shuuhei repeated, snapping in front of Tetsuzaemon’s eyes. “Talkin’ to you, asshole.”
“What the hell d’ya want, Hisagi? I got a damned good hand.”
“He’s bluffin’,” Ikkaku chimed in. “He’s got shit.”
“Probably,” Renji agreed.
“Would you all shut up for a second? I got a question to ask,” Hisagi near-shouted, only to have Renji clap a hand over his mouth.
“Shut it, wouldja? We’re gonna get kicked out and I’m winnin’!”
“Nah, you’re just drunk,” Ikkaku snickered. “But I guess alcohol’s supposed ta make ya feel good about yerself, eh?”
Shuuhei sighed and squirmed out of Renji’s hold, glaring at the other man, who had obviously forgotten what they’d been talking about earlier.
Luckily for them, Shuuhei was naturally more responsible and if he was honest with himself, more curious than his compatriots (this curiosity could possibly also be blamed for that experimental first kiss with Yumichika, which had well, spiraled).
“Look, Iba, just answer me straight, huh? You really don’t remember Isane?”
Iba blinked. “Not this again. I have no freakin’ clue what yer talkin’ about Hisagi. You sure you ain’t the one that’s drunk?”
“I ain’t drunk,” Shuuhei assured him.
“Ayasekawa don’t let him get too drunk no more,” Renji teased, grinning.
Shuuhei elbowed him in the stomach, but otherwise ignored his younger friend. “Look, Iba, all I’m sayin’ is, how the hell could you forget her, regardin’ everythin’ ya did to her?”
Iba blinked. “I did somethin’ to her?” he looked thoughtful. “Well, sometimes when I’m drunk I s’pose I don’t remember the ladies that might come my way exactly, but... somethin’ that pretty? I’d remember that.”
“Ain’t what I’m talkin’ about. Academy, asshole. Academy. You bullied her somethin’ fierce.”
Iba frowned. “The hell’re you goin’ on about? You know I don’t bully girls. Against the code, stupid.”
“That’s why we’re confused,” Shuuhei snorted. “Now c’mon, fess up. Ya have a crush on her back then or somethin’ like that?”
“I’m tellin’ ya, I didn’t bully no girls at academy, Hisagi. Not ever. Not once.”
“Yeah ya did,” Renji chimed in. “Even us underclassmen knew ‘bout what an asshole ya were to Kotetsu-senpai. Now hurry up and play, asshole.”
“Check,” Iba muttered, before turning back to Shuuhei. “You two’ve gotta be on somethin’. I don’t break the code. It’s against the code!”
Shuuhei rolled his eyes. “Yer breakin’ the code right now, asshole. No lyin’, ‘member?”
Iba scowled. “I ain’t lyin’! I don’t remember a damn thing! Only kid I ever bullied was that wimpy underclassman who didn’t know how to be a proper man. And some of the assholes that was grabbin’ the girls durin’ night trainin’. And uh, that one fella that was fat and wouldn’t stop cleanin’ the commissary outta chowder on Fridays ‘cuz he was a damn vacuum.”
“I remember that guy,” Renji grinned. “Think he guards one of the gates now or somethin’. Still fat.”
At Iba’s revelation, Shuuhei began to sort-of feel headachy himself, and he wasn’t even the one who’d been beaned by an Arrankar early this morning. “Can we please focus? I’m tryin’ to wrap my brain around why Iba is such a damned idiot.”
“Thought it was already accepted fact,” Ikkaku muttered, growing impatient and looking away from his cards. “Fuck it. Let’s suss this out so Shuu-chan don’t get his panties anymore twisted’n they already are. Then maybe we can play.”
“No, no, I figured it out already,” Shuuhei muttered, ignoring the jab to his masculinity in favor of marveling as he replayed Iba’s confession over and over again in his head. “Na…Iba… that wimpy underclassman… ya remember the kid’s name?”
Tetsuzaemon furrowed his brow, thinking about it. “Er… not really. Rememberin’ everyone callin’ him I-chan or somethin’ pansy like that.”
Renji blinked, because at that he was (finally) starting to figure this out too, despite the alcohol. “Waitaminute,” he started. “You thought I-chan was a boy?”
Shuuhei sighed. “He thought I-chan was a boy.”
Iba blinked. “He…wadn’t?”
“God yer a fuckin’ moron,” Ikkaku grumbled. “What these two communication-challenged assholes are sayin’ is that I-chan was Isane. Now will you assholes at least finish the damned hand? I got a flush and I’m gonna take you all fer all you’re worth!”
“Fold.”
“Fold.”
“…fold.”
“…dammit.”
Iba stared at Shuuhei and Renji. “That uh…that right, boys? You tellin’ me…”
Hisagi nodded. “The reason why I-chan wasn’t manly enough in your book, ya idiot, is because she was a girl!”
The vice-captain paled. “So…”
“You broke the code,” Renji finished, sagely.
Shuuhei scowled. “That’s not what’s important, dumbass.”
“Then what is?”
Shuuhei crossed his arms. “What’s important is that now ya gotta make amends. As dictated by the code.”
Iba blinked. “Wait…are you sure that it was Isane? That was a blue uniform!”
“Her dad’s, stupid. Bein’ a war hero’n all, they let her petition to wear it ‘stead of the red.”
“…oh. I er…I didn’t hear ‘bout that.”
Silence.
After a moment, Ikkaku groaned and snatched up the cards, moving to leave. “Forget it, I’m leavin’. I could be havin’ sex, assholes.” Halfway out the window, he turned to his friends. “What’s the big deal anyway, what happened back then? Sound of it, Iba just had a schoolboy crush or somethin’ and acted like a ‘tard ‘bout it ‘cuz he thought that Isane was a boy. Two of you look like you were ‘spectin’ the idiot to act like somethin’ other’n dumb in that situation.”
Scoffing at his friends’ stupidity, the new third division vice-captain looked around for guards before slipping back out into the night and presumably, back to his cute captain.
On his words, Shuuhei and Renji blinked at each other.
Then slowly, they turned to the injured man. “Crush?”
END
EDITS PLEASE.
Title: Who in the Hell are You?
Author: Celeste
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: Parallel piece to "How in the Hell Did I Lose to You?" and “How in the Hell Did I Get Stuck With You?”
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: lightly IbaxIsane, mentions of ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira, Renji, Unohana
Warnings/Spoilers: Whole Soul Society Arc and parts of the Arrankar arc, lots of speculation on backstory that is probably wrong. Plus OOC and completely strange tangents. ^^;;
Word Count: 4,420
Time: Days’n days’n days. -_-;;
Summary: Iba is a thug at heart.
Dedication: God this is such crack (and badly done at that). Um. How about for Greg, as thanks for driving us around yesterday?
A/N: I know, I lied. I said I’d start on the Kenpachi arc but then this pairing bit me in the ass when I was doing my requests for bleach_exchange and I decided I needed an obligatory het request. I thought about something cracky and fun that I might like to see, and thus this idea was born. For some reason I’m all gun-ho about getting started on it myself, to see how it goes. I don’t think it went particularly well, but at least the set-up is out of my system. Um. Three more to go? Kenpachi will have to wait, I suppose. I suck. --;; Also, I don’t really know how head injuries work, but I’m going to assume Iba doesn’t use his enough for there to be too much damage. O.o
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
The fourth division hospice was in an uproar after preliminary reports of a routine patrol gone wrong, the communications indicating that the incident involved various members of Komamura’s seventh division in an ambush by several lowly ranked Arrankar.
Beds were prepared quickly and medication readied. Komamura-taichou arrived at the gates first, members of his division carrying the wounded from the patrol.
“Treat my men!” the giant beast-captain demanded, one of his eyes bloodied but otherwise looking unharmed himself.
The fourth division members rushed forward to take the wounded and reluctant seventh division members were forced aside, some told outright to leave.
“Oi…do what they say…get the hell outta here if ya ain’t hurt!” one man shouted amidst the confusion, before groaning and collapsing onto the ground.
“Fukutaichou!”
“Fukutaichou, are you okay?!”
“Out of the way!” Isane ordered, pushing past the group surrounding the seventh division vice-captain and kneeling beside him. Turning him gently onto his back, the young woman blinked at the familiar face lolling back up at her, the sight of which momentarily caused her to freeze in surprise.
“Kotetsu-fukutaichou? What’s the matter?” an orderly asked, touching her shoulder.
Stirred back into the present world, the young vice-captain shook her head. “Sorry, nothing. Just one moment.” She quickly got over her surprise at seeing him here and moved to do her job, seeking out her patient’s injuries and assessing the situation quickly. “Stretcher! We’ve got a head wound here!” she shouted upon feeling blood sticking to her fingertips.
“Oi…” Iba started, feeling hands on his head. “I…”
“Please don’t speak, Iba-san. You’re bleeding quite profusely.”
The medics responded quickly to their vice-captain’s orders and they transferred the dully blinking second seat onto the canvass, clearing a path down the long hallways of the fourth division hospital as they carried him towards a room.
“Taichou! I’ve got this one!” Kotetsu announced to Unohana over her shoulder, rolling up her sleeves as they walked. “Let’s get him to a room and out of the way.”
Iba frowned at the words, the edges of his vision blurry. “Oi… is…”
“Quiet, please,” she urged, the vice-captain feeling himself being taken further down the hall, away from Komamura’s worriedly irate shouting.
“But…taichou… is taichou…”
“He’s fine, fukutaichou. Please be quiet,” Isane pressed, resting her palm over Iba’s forehead as they headed towards one of the rooms they’d set up earlier. “Now just relax…”
He felt warm suddenly, like he’d drunk a cup of hot cocoa too fast, and while it was nice in its own way, he didn’t want to be drugged into complacency by her reiatsu so quickly, not when he didn’t know the condition of his men.
“Waitaminute now…” he muttered, shaking free of her hold, the motion causing the throbbing in his skull to come back full force. “Ah fuck… just… is… one of the guys… Shintarou… he uh… his leg…”
“Shhh, just relax, fukutaichou. Your men are in good hands. Unohana-taichou will take care of the worst. Now please…” she put her hand back over his forehead. “Don’t move too much now, okay?”
Somehow soothed by the steady confidence in her voice, Iba let himself fall back a little, her palm cool on his hot skin, the reiatsu soothing his tense muscles. “Er…’kay… I uh…”
“Please don’t fall asleep just yet though,” she instructed him softly. “Not until I can discern the nature of your injury.”
“Bastard ah…bastards snuck up. Just a bump on the head, I…”
“Shhh. Relax and concentrate on not falling asleep, okay? I’m sure you’ll be fine, but I just want to make sure before I let you go.”
“Er…’kay.”
He didn’t quite get how he was supposed to relax and at the same time, not fall asleep, but he tried anyway because she’d asked so nicely. Before long, that warm feeling settled his confusion and everything started to feel a little bit nice. “I uh… I think’m fallin’… fallin’… er…asleep,” he managed to warn her, eyelids growing heavy.
“It’s alright, fukutaichou. It looks like you’ll be fine. So please sleep now.” She told him, slowly removing her hand.
“But the uh…the men…”
“I’ll come back and personally give you a progress report on them after you’ve woken, is that alright?”
“Yeah….sounds…good.”
He fell asleep.
~~~~~
He woke up what felt like a few hours later, stirred to consciousness by that familiar warm sensation. It felt slightly different before however, less probing and more direct, like it was weaving in and out of his bones and muscles, strengthening everything inside of him quickly and neatly.
“Ugh,” he grunted, when he’d meant to say, “Whozzat?”
“Hello, fukutaichou,” a familiar voice greeted, the warm feeling letting up. “I’m just about done here, so please feel free to go back to sleep when I leave…”
“Whozzat?” he managed, on the second try.
“My name is Isane,” she started, carefully. “I’m the fourth division vice-captain and you are my patient for the time being.” She watched his reaction.
He blinked, but the name obviously didn’t register.
He didn’t recognize her.
Part of her felt disappointed, a little bit angry even. But she supposed it couldn’t be helped. Years had passed since she’d last spoken to him, and in that time, she had changed quite dramatically from the shy, virtually silent girl she’d once been.
There was no reason for the groggy vice-captain to remember her.
It still bothered her somehow though, and she wondered if she might remind him of their acquaintance if only to prove to him that the things he’d said to her those many years ago had turned out to be wrong after all.
But before she could say anything, he asked, throat dry, “How’re the men?”
“Shintarou-san’s leg is being operated on by Unohana-taichou and Iemura-san as we speak,” she reported brusquely. “They’ll be able to reattach it completely, I believe.”
The vice-captain let out a tired breath. “Shit. Took it off after all, huh? Didn’t push him outta the way in time.”
“I’m sure it’s not your fault,” she told him, oddly touched by how strongly he felt on the subject of one rookie patrolman. Maybe she hadn’t been the only one to go through some changes since they’d last seen one another.
Feeling guilty about her rather selfish thoughts moments before, she softened her tone. “You did what you could, I’m sure.”
“Still,” he muttered, already halfway asleep again. “Taichou…took ‘em out pretty easy. Forget sometimes, how big the difference is…”
“Please don’t worry about it anymore, Iba-san. Just concentrate on getting better, ne?”
“Yeah…’kay.”
He was out again.
Looking down ruefully at the man snoring with his mouth open, Isane furrowed her brow, trying very hard to reconcile the man she’d just seen with the senpai who had bullied her constantly throughout the majority of her academy career.
Had he really changed so much after all this time?
~~~~~
He had visitors later, Hisagi and Ikkaku and Renji storming the infirmary and demanding (in their most civil tones) where their friend was being held.
Shuuhei, being the most polite of the trio, managed to grab the attention of an orderly and Isane watched as the young girl led the three of them down towards Iba’s room.
Frowning, she didn’t think he was up to so many visitors (and such infamously raucous ones at that), and moved to intercept.
“May I help you gentlemen?”
Shuuhei smiled at her. “Yo, Isane. Er…just here to see if the big idiot’s okay,” he explained.
She crossed her arms. “He’s sleeping. As well he should be.”
“Aw c’mon,” Ikkaku started. “We’ll be quiet.”
“Yeah! Real quiet,” Renji agreed.
The three of them looked so earnest she wondered at their self-proclaimed reputations of tough-guy-ness. Sighing, she conceded. “But one at a time and only because it’s about time I went in to wake him up anyway.”
“How’s he doin’?” Ikkaku prompted. “Heard he got beaned pretty hard on the head.”
“He’ll be fine,” she told the new third division vice-captain calmly, leading them towards Iba’s room.
Renji grinned and elbowed the bald death god. “See? Told ya. Iba don’t really use anythin’ in his head anyways, so that’s the safest place fer him to get hit.”
Ikkaku and Shuuhei snickered a little, and Isane shot them hard looks. “His injuries are no joking matter, gentlemen.”
Sobering quickly, the three apologized much like a trio of elementary schoolboys who had gotten caught for putting a tack in teacher’s chair. “Sorry!”
She didn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated, and urging them once more to be quiet, opened the door to the room.
They silenced themselves immediately, and she waved Shuuhei in with her first. “One at a time. Everyone will get a turn,” she reminded Renji and Ikkaku when they looked like they wanted to protest Hisagi getting to go in first.
Shuuhei frowned when he saw his friend sprawled out on his bed like he’d fallen into it, drooling all over his pillow as he snored obnoxiously away. “He doesn’t look any different from normal,” he admitted, eyeing Kotetsu-fukutaichou. “Sure he got hurt?”
“Quite sure, Hisagi-taichou,” she assured him, before brushing past the other death god and rolling up her sleeves. “Iba-san,” she urged, gently shaking him. “Iba-san, please wake up, you have a visitor.”
“Murgh.”
Iba snorted, drew the back of his hand across his mouth to catch his drool, and promptly rolled over.
He started snoring again.
She shook him a little harder. “Iba-san, wake up.”
“Mrrr.”
Shuuhei sighed at his best friend. “Yeah. He sounds fine.”
“Well, in either case, someone with a head injury needs to be woken up every few hours regardless of how he or she sounds…”
“Oi, Iba! Up the skirt shot, ten o’clock!” Shuuhei suddenly blurted, causing Isane to jump.
“Taichou!” she started. “Please be…”
“I love a windy day!” Iba shouted, sitting up almost instantly. “Where’s it at?”
“Mornin’ asshole,” Shuuhei greeted, looking on rather smugly.
Iba groaned and grabbed his head, having been jolted from his sleep too quickly. “Bastard…ain’t no skirts in here.”
“Yeah well. Be a good boy’n wake up for the nice doctor, huh? At least you get the privilege of her bein’ obligated to touch your ugly mug.”
Iba blinked, obviously very confused. “Er?”
“You’re in the fourth division hospice, Iba-san,” Isane stepped in. “You’ve been sleeping since the attack on your patrol this morning. I know things might be a bit confusing, and I’ll ask that you please relax and refrain from any further abrupt movements…”
The other vice-captain looked at her. “Oh. Right. This mornin’. I forgot.”
“Ain’t a surprise,” Shuuhei grunted. “Heard that useless head of yours might have gotten even more empty after what happened, after all.”
Iba scowled. “Aw, shaddup. Damned embarrassing as it is, asshole.”
“Gentlemen, please,” Isane chastised, running her hands up along under Iba’s jaw as she looked into his eyes. After a moment, she pulled back, proclaiming, “Well, I have to say… you look remarkably well for someone who collapsed in the hallway just a few hours earlier,” before moving to check the bandages at the back of his head.
Shuuhei grinned. “Haha, I told you that fool head of yours wasn’t holdin’ anything important,” he teased, though it was apparent that he was relieved for the other man.
“Get the hell outta here,” Iba muttered, tossing his spare pillow at his friend. “Pain in my ass. Can’t even let an injured fella rest peacefully and recover.”
Shuuhei caught it. “Karma, Iba. ‘s Gotta be karma.”
“Karma my ass,” Iba shot back, growing antsy under Isane’s gentle touch.
Hisagi laughed. “It’s gotta be. I mean, look who you’re caretaker is.”
Iba grunted. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Shuuhei grinned. “Don’t act like you haven’t done anything, ya big chicken. We both know better.”
Isane looked up at Shuuhei. “Hisagi-taichou, please… let’s not speak of such things,” she said, gamely keeping her voice level though she felt rather embarrassed that Shuuhei would raise the issue in such a way. “It’s been a long time, after all,” she murmured.
Iba turned to face her then, blinking when the quick motion made him a little dizzy. “Huh?” he asked. “Long time since what?”
Shuuhei blinked at that. “Waitaiminute…don’t tell me you don’t…” he turned to Isane. “He really don’t?”
She sighed. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant to Iba-san’s injury, taichou. And don’t you think it’s about time to let one of the other two in?”
“Wait… what the hell is he talkin’ about?” Iba pushed, swatting absently at Isane’s hands. “I’m confused.”
“You hit your head,” she explained.
He scowled. “I know that.”
“You shouldn’t stress yourself over nothing, Iba-san. It’s not good for your injury.”
He snorted. “Yeah well, neither is bein’ confused by yours and his weirdo conversations. The hell’re you goin’ on about, Hisagi?”
Shuuhei looked as if he was going to say something, but a sharp glance from Isane killed the words in his throat. “Ah, nothin’, I guess. I’ll go get Ikkaku.”
“Oi, waitaminute, asshole, I’m talkin’…”
“Please sit still, Iba-san,” Isane requested levelly, placing her hands on his shoulders to keep him from lunging after his friend. “I’m not quite done here yet.”
Momentarily cowed, he relaxed backwards. “Sorry. Just… I don’t get it.”
She managed a small smile at that. “I’m sure it’s nothing important.”
He looked as if he was going to respond, but Madarame burst into the room then, demanding to know how a former fellow eleventh officer managed to get his ass kicked so thoroughly during something as simple as a routine patrol.
Though it was a bit noisier than she would have liked, Isane couldn’t help but be a little grateful for the distraction.
~~~~~
He’d bullied her at academy, calling her names and constantly making fun of her messy hair and baggy clothes.
She’d stood and taken it all and never said anything back really, because she’d always been shy, always been bad at talking with people, hostile or not.
And so she remembers him laughing at her for her weak performances on physical tests and how easily strained she’d been back then, when they’d been learning their kidoh.
He’d always been one of the strong ones, all muscle and big talk and self-confidence. Fast and powerful, he was a senpai that was admired by many of the younger boys for his fighting ability. Enough so that his mediocre scores on demon arts and paper tests were mostly ignored.
She remembered envying him just a little bit for that, for being able to take what he was good at and turn it into the focus of his character, while she excelled at the things he didn’t and at the same time, somehow sunk into the background, quiet and bookish and smart but never all that strong.
Kiyone had known her neesan was being bullied and railed against it, demanding that Isane stand up for herself and give the big brute what he deserved.
She’d only smiled at the young one and told her that violence didn’t always solve everything.
The elder sister couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, if Kiyone had watched her and decided to be everything Isane was not, decided to be strong and loud and never allow anyone to push her into the background without a fight.
Sometimes Isane wished she could go back and tell Iba-san that she didn’t appreciate his cruel words, didn’t understand what could have possibly possessed him to pick on her especially when he’d always been chivalrous (if somewhat chauvinistic) to the other girls in the school, opening doors and protecting his female teammates, offering to carry heavy things and complimenting pretty girls on how nice they looked.
She knew she hadn’t been outstanding amongst her class, hadn’t seemed particularly pretty even, but it seemed like she had been the only one he’d ever gone out of his way to ridicule.
To be honest though, what bothered her the most was that she was still thinking about it today, like she’d suddenly reverted back to being the timid wallflower she’d once been, merely because of her unexpected run-in with her former tormentor.
Bygones should have been bygones after all, and she’d grown so much from the silent, tomboyish little girl she’d been back then. She was a vice-captain now, the same as him, and should have commanded the same respect even if their strengths were of different kinds.
The fact that she was preoccupied with her past image of Iba Tetsuzaemon bothered her as well, because it meant that perhaps she hadn’t really grown all that much at all.
And he apparently had, because he couldn’t even remember her face.
“Is something bothering you, Isane?”
She looked up as Unoahana-taichou stepped into the room, looking weary but not in any way affected by that weariness, pristine and calm as ever.
“Ah, no, taichou. Nothing,” she lied, quickly.
The captain’s eyes were gentle. “Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away,” she murmured, seating herself in her chair and pouring them both a cup of tea from the pot Isane had just placed on Unohana’s desk. “You seem preoccupied.”
“Ah…it’s just, something silly, taichou,” she murmured, blushing in shame.
“Well then, it won’t be so much trouble to talk about, will it? I’ve had a rather tiring day and I’d like to just sit down and have a nice chat with someone while I have my tea.” The fourth division leader smiled beatifically.
Isane looked at her captain reluctantly, those easy, serene eyes looking back expectantly.
Sighing, she took a seat.
~~~~~
They snuck into the infirmary a few hours later under the cover of darkness.
There was booze and a deck of cards and a bento packed with ‘get-well-soon-love’ from Yumichika, who said it was impolite to go the hospital and not bring a gift.
The booze was the actual gift, but Hisagi had supposed it would be best to leave that part out of the “We’re gonna go see Iba in the hospital” explanation.
“I don’t believe it,” Renji had muttered, upon Shuuhei’s revelation of what had transpired in their friend’s hospital room earlier. “He don’t remember what a jackass he was to her at all?”
“Dunno, seems like it. You know he wasn’t ever any good at things that required thinking.”
“Guess not,” Renji acknowledged. “But still. It’s not like Isane-san was hard to miss or anything.”
Ikkaku had no idea what they were talking about, never having gone through the academy process himself (having had the benefits of entering the Gotei-13 as one captain usurped another and getting to ride in on the coattails, so to speak).
“Look, it couldn’ta been that bad, could it? I mean, Iba’s an ass on a good day, but he don’t make a habit of bullyin’ girls. Against the code.”
Shuuhei’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, that was a bit weird.”
“Yeah,” Renji echoed. “Weird.”
The bald death god rolled his eyes and snatched the bottle of alcohol out from under Renji’s arm1. “Look, ya great idiots, let’s just ask him when we get there, right? Tryin’ to figure out a moron like Tetsuzaemon ain’t doin’ us any good. ‘Specially when it’s you two idiots tryin’ to do the figurin’. You just know that ain’t gonna lead anywhere productive.”
The other men frowned. “Oi…”
“All I’m sayin’,” Ikkaku started, slowly (for their benefit), “is that it’s gonna be as simple as remindin’ him, and then as simple as askin’ him why. I don’t understand why the hell you two’ve gotta be such women about it and try to suss it all out fer yourselves.”
Hisagi and Abarai blinked.
They supposed they couldn’t argue with that, really.
They found Iba sleeping in his room and tossed wadded up pieces of paper at him until he woke up, snickering to themselves while trying to keep it down in case a patrolling orderly was nearby.
“Mmmph, the hell’re you assholes doin’ here?”
Renji grinned. “We brought booze.”
“And cards,” Ikkaku added.
“Er, and…food, I guess,” Shuuhei finished, holding out the bento awkwardly. “Better eat it though, asshole. Yumi worked hard.”
Iba blinked, blearily. “Booze, ya say?”
“Yup!”
The vice-captain began to wake up in earnest. “Deal ‘em up, boys.”
Several hands and an enormous empty bottle of booze later, Hisagi suddenly remembered that he’d had a question, and turned to Iba. “Oi, Iba.”
“What?” the injured man grunted, brow furrowed as he concentrated on his cards.
“Woah there,” Renji warned, observing his former teammate. “Don’t think too hard will ya? Probably put what’s left of your brain outta commission.”
“Shaddup,” Iba snarled, reaching out to cuff the redhead upside the head. “Ain’t you ever heard that aggravatin’ a patient don’t help them heal none?”
“Oi,” Shuuhei repeated, snapping in front of Tetsuzaemon’s eyes. “Talkin’ to you, asshole.”
“What the hell d’ya want, Hisagi? I got a damned good hand.”
“He’s bluffin’,” Ikkaku chimed in. “He’s got shit.”
“Probably,” Renji agreed.
“Would you all shut up for a second? I got a question to ask,” Hisagi near-shouted, only to have Renji clap a hand over his mouth.
“Shut it, wouldja? We’re gonna get kicked out and I’m winnin’!”
“Nah, you’re just drunk,” Ikkaku snickered. “But I guess alcohol’s supposed ta make ya feel good about yerself, eh?”
Shuuhei sighed and squirmed out of Renji’s hold, glaring at the other man, who had obviously forgotten what they’d been talking about earlier.
Luckily for them, Shuuhei was naturally more responsible and if he was honest with himself, more curious than his compatriots (this curiosity could possibly also be blamed for that experimental first kiss with Yumichika, which had well, spiraled).
“Look, Iba, just answer me straight, huh? You really don’t remember Isane?”
Iba blinked. “Not this again. I have no freakin’ clue what yer talkin’ about Hisagi. You sure you ain’t the one that’s drunk?”
“I ain’t drunk,” Shuuhei assured him.
“Ayasekawa don’t let him get too drunk no more,” Renji teased, grinning.
Shuuhei elbowed him in the stomach, but otherwise ignored his younger friend. “Look, Iba, all I’m sayin’ is, how the hell could you forget her, regardin’ everythin’ ya did to her?”
Iba blinked. “I did somethin’ to her?” he looked thoughtful. “Well, sometimes when I’m drunk I s’pose I don’t remember the ladies that might come my way exactly, but... somethin’ that pretty? I’d remember that.”
“Ain’t what I’m talkin’ about. Academy, asshole. Academy. You bullied her somethin’ fierce.”
Iba frowned. “The hell’re you goin’ on about? You know I don’t bully girls. Against the code, stupid.”
“That’s why we’re confused,” Shuuhei snorted. “Now c’mon, fess up. Ya have a crush on her back then or somethin’ like that?”
“I’m tellin’ ya, I didn’t bully no girls at academy, Hisagi. Not ever. Not once.”
“Yeah ya did,” Renji chimed in. “Even us underclassmen knew ‘bout what an asshole ya were to Kotetsu-senpai. Now hurry up and play, asshole.”
“Check,” Iba muttered, before turning back to Shuuhei. “You two’ve gotta be on somethin’. I don’t break the code. It’s against the code!”
Shuuhei rolled his eyes. “Yer breakin’ the code right now, asshole. No lyin’, ‘member?”
Iba scowled. “I ain’t lyin’! I don’t remember a damn thing! Only kid I ever bullied was that wimpy underclassman who didn’t know how to be a proper man. And some of the assholes that was grabbin’ the girls durin’ night trainin’. And uh, that one fella that was fat and wouldn’t stop cleanin’ the commissary outta chowder on Fridays ‘cuz he was a damn vacuum.”
“I remember that guy,” Renji grinned. “Think he guards one of the gates now or somethin’. Still fat.”
At Iba’s revelation, Shuuhei began to sort-of feel headachy himself, and he wasn’t even the one who’d been beaned by an Arrankar early this morning. “Can we please focus? I’m tryin’ to wrap my brain around why Iba is such a damned idiot.”
“Thought it was already accepted fact,” Ikkaku muttered, growing impatient and looking away from his cards. “Fuck it. Let’s suss this out so Shuu-chan don’t get his panties anymore twisted’n they already are. Then maybe we can play.”
“No, no, I figured it out already,” Shuuhei muttered, ignoring the jab to his masculinity in favor of marveling as he replayed Iba’s confession over and over again in his head. “Na…Iba… that wimpy underclassman… ya remember the kid’s name?”
Tetsuzaemon furrowed his brow, thinking about it. “Er… not really. Rememberin’ everyone callin’ him I-chan or somethin’ pansy like that.”
Renji blinked, because at that he was (finally) starting to figure this out too, despite the alcohol. “Waitaminute,” he started. “You thought I-chan was a boy?”
Shuuhei sighed. “He thought I-chan was a boy.”
Iba blinked. “He…wadn’t?”
“God yer a fuckin’ moron,” Ikkaku grumbled. “What these two communication-challenged assholes are sayin’ is that I-chan was Isane. Now will you assholes at least finish the damned hand? I got a flush and I’m gonna take you all fer all you’re worth!”
“Fold.”
“Fold.”
“…fold.”
“…dammit.”
Iba stared at Shuuhei and Renji. “That uh…that right, boys? You tellin’ me…”
Hisagi nodded. “The reason why I-chan wasn’t manly enough in your book, ya idiot, is because she was a girl!”
The vice-captain paled. “So…”
“You broke the code,” Renji finished, sagely.
Shuuhei scowled. “That’s not what’s important, dumbass.”
“Then what is?”
Shuuhei crossed his arms. “What’s important is that now ya gotta make amends. As dictated by the code.”
Iba blinked. “Wait…are you sure that it was Isane? That was a blue uniform!”
“Her dad’s, stupid. Bein’ a war hero’n all, they let her petition to wear it ‘stead of the red.”
“…oh. I er…I didn’t hear ‘bout that.”
Silence.
After a moment, Ikkaku groaned and snatched up the cards, moving to leave. “Forget it, I’m leavin’. I could be havin’ sex, assholes.” Halfway out the window, he turned to his friends. “What’s the big deal anyway, what happened back then? Sound of it, Iba just had a schoolboy crush or somethin’ and acted like a ‘tard ‘bout it ‘cuz he thought that Isane was a boy. Two of you look like you were ‘spectin’ the idiot to act like somethin’ other’n dumb in that situation.”
Scoffing at his friends’ stupidity, the new third division vice-captain looked around for guards before slipping back out into the night and presumably, back to his cute captain.
On his words, Shuuhei and Renji blinked at each other.
Then slowly, they turned to the injured man. “Crush?”
END
EDITS PLEASE.