Faded Ribbons
Theme: 15:00
Title: Faded Ribbons
Fandom: Bleach
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.
Summary: Part 3 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.
The first time Hiyori ever wore her hair up, she kept it that way because she knew Shinji liked it down. In fact, she knew it was about the only feature of hers that he considered "redeeming". Or at least, that's what he told her, since she knew firsthand he thought she reminded him of a monkey with fangs. Not that she really cared -- because she didn't, not at all -- what he thought or what he said. In fact, the only thing she cared about in reference to what he said was whether she should use her sandal or her fist to hit him with.
Or both. There was always the option of both. Combing hands through thick blond waves, Hiyori scowled as her fingers snarled in yet another tangle. Irritating stuff, hair was. She honestly couldn't understand Shinji's seeming fascination with growing his out but maybe it was because unlike her wavy mass of thick blond, his hair always seemed to be so sleek and straight and manageable. It was unfair, that's what it was. Damned unfair that a boy would have better hair than her. It even LOOKED better right now, as the big clock in Seireitei chimed 5:00, with the late afternoon sun beating down upon it and turning pale blond to gold. Disgusting.
Ignoring the offending boy's presence as she grumbled something profane and detangled her index finger from the knot in her hair, she glanced around at the sparse little room they were sitting in. There had to be something she could use to fix this mess. Finding nothing of any real use, she turned her attention to the bottom edge of her faded pink -- she hated pink, why the hell did the only one she had have to be that colour -- kimono. Hooking fingers into the threads, she tugged, carefully ripping off a thin strip from the bottom of the mildly tattered cotton. Maybe she could tie it up with that.
Shinji watched as the scrawny arms worked, Hiyori's frustration showing in the way teeth were set against her lower lip as she worked, cursing luridly as the strip of fabric she was trying to tear off of her kimono -- for what purpose he had no idea -- tore in half. Obviously not long enough for whatever plan she had in mind for it, given the expression on her face and the bitter complaints that dripped from her mouth. The hell was her problem, it wasn't like they could really afford new clothes anytime soon so why would she want to go around ripping up the only thing she had to wear?
His questions were answered a moment later as he watched her take one of the strips of cloth and yank her thick hair up into a bunch at the nape of her neck. Gripping the string in her teeth, Hiyori combed thin fingers through the thick mass, straightening it as best she could before wrapping the strip of cloth around the base. Too short.
Well that was fucking great. Her damned hair was too damned thick so now she'd have to keep dealing with it being all in her face and shit all the time. Dropping her hair with a disgusted sigh, Hiyori bit her lip. There had to be something she could do, something that could offer her surcease from the constant annoyance of her hair that didn't involve cutting it all off. Hell, she didn't have the fixation on her hair that Shinji did, but neither did she want to be bald. OR mistaken for a boy all the damned time.
Thinking to herself, she mentally studied the two broken pieces of fabric sitting on her lap. She could.... yeah, they might be long enough for that. Nodding to herself, the skinny girl went back to fussing with her hair until she was satisfied with it. There, that would work. Pushing herself to her feet, she walked over towards the cistern in the corner -- they'd cobbled it together from scrap timber after deciding that stealing water was silly when it fell from the sky for free -- shoving Shinji out of the way with a sideways kick as she passed. Hanging her head over the wide mouth of the barrel, she studied her handiwork. Two pigtails, set high on the sides of her head, the faded pink fabric keeping tangled blond locks out of her way -- well, with the exception of the bangs that framed her youthful, freckled face.
Shinji yelped in irritated surprise as her bare foot -- thankfully the sandals rested by the door -- connected with the side of his face as she knocked him out of the way. Irritating little monkey, the hell did she have to do that for? He opened his mouth to protest, not that it would do any more good seeing as it never had before, but his attention was drawn by the sudden change in her appearance. Hiyori wasn't that much to look at, and Shinji -- despite being the only one she really had -- wasn't going to argue with that.
They'd been together for about 5 years now, since the death of his family in the Hollow attack, and she'd grown from a skinny and unattractive kid to a skinny and -- as far as he was concerned -- equally unattractive youth. Thirteen or so, at least that's how she looked, with no curves whatsoever to speak of. All elbows and knees and bones, with those same freckles spattered across her cheeks, that same snaggletooth on the one side and her little face constantly drawn up into an unattractive scowl. No, Hiyori was definitely not what anyone would have termed "pretty". In all honesty, he had to say that the only real redeeming feature to her was that blond hair that fell in thick waves around her shoulders, longish bangs framing her face and giving a bit of a softer tone to the rest of her, all angles and harshness that it was. her hair actually... made her look like a girl. Well, if one squinted, he supposed.
Her hair was about the only part of Hiyori that he really liked most of the time. She was loud, rude, abrasive. Nothing at all that girls should be. And now her hair, that pretty hair was yanked up into two unsightly clumps on the sides of her head. Frowning, he scoffed at her as she studied her reflection in the water.
"The hell did you do that to it for? It looked better the other way."
His response was the water dipper impacting solidly with the center of his face as she stalked past, ignoring his swearing or attempts to staunch the blood from his nose.. Idiot. Like she gave a damn what he liked or didn't like. And just for that, she was going to keep it this way from now on.
Title: Faded Ribbons
Fandom: Bleach
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.
Summary: Part 3 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.
The first time Hiyori ever wore her hair up, she kept it that way because she knew Shinji liked it down. In fact, she knew it was about the only feature of hers that he considered "redeeming". Or at least, that's what he told her, since she knew firsthand he thought she reminded him of a monkey with fangs. Not that she really cared -- because she didn't, not at all -- what he thought or what he said. In fact, the only thing she cared about in reference to what he said was whether she should use her sandal or her fist to hit him with.
Or both. There was always the option of both. Combing hands through thick blond waves, Hiyori scowled as her fingers snarled in yet another tangle. Irritating stuff, hair was. She honestly couldn't understand Shinji's seeming fascination with growing his out but maybe it was because unlike her wavy mass of thick blond, his hair always seemed to be so sleek and straight and manageable. It was unfair, that's what it was. Damned unfair that a boy would have better hair than her. It even LOOKED better right now, as the big clock in Seireitei chimed 5:00, with the late afternoon sun beating down upon it and turning pale blond to gold. Disgusting.
Ignoring the offending boy's presence as she grumbled something profane and detangled her index finger from the knot in her hair, she glanced around at the sparse little room they were sitting in. There had to be something she could use to fix this mess. Finding nothing of any real use, she turned her attention to the bottom edge of her faded pink -- she hated pink, why the hell did the only one she had have to be that colour -- kimono. Hooking fingers into the threads, she tugged, carefully ripping off a thin strip from the bottom of the mildly tattered cotton. Maybe she could tie it up with that.
Shinji watched as the scrawny arms worked, Hiyori's frustration showing in the way teeth were set against her lower lip as she worked, cursing luridly as the strip of fabric she was trying to tear off of her kimono -- for what purpose he had no idea -- tore in half. Obviously not long enough for whatever plan she had in mind for it, given the expression on her face and the bitter complaints that dripped from her mouth. The hell was her problem, it wasn't like they could really afford new clothes anytime soon so why would she want to go around ripping up the only thing she had to wear?
His questions were answered a moment later as he watched her take one of the strips of cloth and yank her thick hair up into a bunch at the nape of her neck. Gripping the string in her teeth, Hiyori combed thin fingers through the thick mass, straightening it as best she could before wrapping the strip of cloth around the base. Too short.
Well that was fucking great. Her damned hair was too damned thick so now she'd have to keep dealing with it being all in her face and shit all the time. Dropping her hair with a disgusted sigh, Hiyori bit her lip. There had to be something she could do, something that could offer her surcease from the constant annoyance of her hair that didn't involve cutting it all off. Hell, she didn't have the fixation on her hair that Shinji did, but neither did she want to be bald. OR mistaken for a boy all the damned time.
Thinking to herself, she mentally studied the two broken pieces of fabric sitting on her lap. She could.... yeah, they might be long enough for that. Nodding to herself, the skinny girl went back to fussing with her hair until she was satisfied with it. There, that would work. Pushing herself to her feet, she walked over towards the cistern in the corner -- they'd cobbled it together from scrap timber after deciding that stealing water was silly when it fell from the sky for free -- shoving Shinji out of the way with a sideways kick as she passed. Hanging her head over the wide mouth of the barrel, she studied her handiwork. Two pigtails, set high on the sides of her head, the faded pink fabric keeping tangled blond locks out of her way -- well, with the exception of the bangs that framed her youthful, freckled face.
Shinji yelped in irritated surprise as her bare foot -- thankfully the sandals rested by the door -- connected with the side of his face as she knocked him out of the way. Irritating little monkey, the hell did she have to do that for? He opened his mouth to protest, not that it would do any more good seeing as it never had before, but his attention was drawn by the sudden change in her appearance. Hiyori wasn't that much to look at, and Shinji -- despite being the only one she really had -- wasn't going to argue with that.
They'd been together for about 5 years now, since the death of his family in the Hollow attack, and she'd grown from a skinny and unattractive kid to a skinny and -- as far as he was concerned -- equally unattractive youth. Thirteen or so, at least that's how she looked, with no curves whatsoever to speak of. All elbows and knees and bones, with those same freckles spattered across her cheeks, that same snaggletooth on the one side and her little face constantly drawn up into an unattractive scowl. No, Hiyori was definitely not what anyone would have termed "pretty". In all honesty, he had to say that the only real redeeming feature to her was that blond hair that fell in thick waves around her shoulders, longish bangs framing her face and giving a bit of a softer tone to the rest of her, all angles and harshness that it was. her hair actually... made her look like a girl. Well, if one squinted, he supposed.
Her hair was about the only part of Hiyori that he really liked most of the time. She was loud, rude, abrasive. Nothing at all that girls should be. And now her hair, that pretty hair was yanked up into two unsightly clumps on the sides of her head. Frowning, he scoffed at her as she studied her reflection in the water.
"The hell did you do that to it for? It looked better the other way."
His response was the water dipper impacting solidly with the center of his face as she stalked past, ignoring his swearing or attempts to staunch the blood from his nose.. Idiot. Like she gave a damn what he liked or didn't like. And just for that, she was going to keep it this way from now on.