#renji’s hair looks off but ah well

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

February’s almost up, man. At least there’s the majority of March. Still, need to pick up the pace with me winter ideas.

[alexiethymia]

illumination

summary: [Post-TYBW] Hitsugaya fixed his tabi on the engawa as he waited for Momo. Not for the first time, he was gripped with that sense of déjà vu. First sunrise. First shrine visit. A lot of the firsts that he remembered in his life was with her.

[read on ao3]

Notes: I don’t consider myself good at domestic fics, so this fic had plenty of inspiration, mainly @rays-of-fire-and-ice, @canariie, and @bleachbleachbleach‘s head canons especially about Jurinan grandma and Momo’s calligraphy. It was also inspired by the Hitsugaya family in Untitled Collection and the warmest place in the world, as well as all of the HCs about hitsuhina children that I just went and bit the bullet and did my own version. I’m also way too late for HitsuHina week, but I really wanted to finish this work based on the prompt fireworks.

Soshun mazu sake Ni ume uru Nioi kana

New year and first Sake and the fragrance of plum blossoms Being sold

“Kira’s spouting off haikus again which means he’s plastered and that’s our cue to go. Thanks for having us, Hitsugaya-taichou!”

“Heh, you sure it isn’t because you’ve made your darling wife and daughter wait up for you and now you’re scared you’ll be greeting the new year with a sandal to the face?”

“Shut it, Hisagi-san.”

“Oi, oi, show some respect Abarai. It should be Hisagi-senpai.”

“Ehh Kira, isn’t that haiku out-of-season? Isn’t it too early for spring? Ah, but it fits perfectly with the umeshu doesn’t it, taichou?”

Kira just ignored the whole drunken lot in favor of shaking Momo’s hands. For some reason, he seemed to be crying.

“Just a small new year’s gift, Hinamori-kun…ah…eto,” Kira mumbles all the while still vigorously shaking her hands. Only a strained furrow in his drooping brow signified his strain as if trying to remember something important amidst the drunken haze he was in, “My mistake,” he amends, “I mean, Hitsugaya-san.”

Perhaps it was the same furrow mirrored in the captain’s expression that caused him to remember, but in truth Hitsugaya’s expression wasn’t really directed at him. In truth, it wasn’t only Renji’s wife who was maybe slightly displeased with him.

“No need to be so formal, Kira-kun! We’ve known each other for ages.” Despite that she consented to be supported by her back, she wasn’t as fully nestled by his side like in her moments of true contentment where she would be languid and soft against him.

She was the perfect hostess so she’d never let anything in her expression show except a welcoming and bright smile, but Hitsugaya didn’t know her for centuries for nothing. The smile she had now had the same subtle curves as the exact same smile she showed him when she said, ‘What do you mean? Of course, I’m not angry, Shiro-chan, how silly,’ when he’d eaten the peaches she had apparently been saving when they were just carefree kids back in Jurinan. Moments like this made memories like that feel simultaneously as if they were eons ago and also as if they just happened yesterday.

Hitsugaya sighed.

“Momo, you know you can’t drink for a reason.”

Everyone in the party turned to look at him at that. True it was stern as was characteristic of Hitsugaya-taichou, but at the same time it sounded conciliatory. Perhaps that was why Momo let her smile fall, and let a slight pout overtake her features. Internally, Hitsugaya sighed with relief. He’d rather she shows that she was displeased with him than hide it.

“I know, but still for you to go so far as to ask everyone to bring plum wine, precisely because you know I don’t like it…” When Madarame-san and Ayasegawa-san brought some over, she thought nothing of it. When Hirako-taichou had dropped by in human world attire clapping Toshiro on the back with enough force that he fell, irritated and grumbling, and ruffling her hair softly as he placed the bottle and a new jazz vinyl in her hands, she thought it was a funny coincidence. But when even Nanao-san with the soutaichou dropped by, her with books and him with more of the stuff, that’s when she began to put two and two together.

Maybe it was a bit much for new year’s celebrations, but it had also been a housewarming of sorts, and Momo was touched with all of the small tokens of welcome and well-wishes. Pity it had to be something she wasn’t fond of. But Momo was nothing but gracious so she accepted it all.

Abarai-kun and Hisagi-senpai looked at each other sheepishly, while Kira-kun looked just about ready to drop at the thought of possibly having offended her with their gift, but Hitsugaya-taichou insisted, and you never said no to Hitsugaya-taichou when he used that tone (rather you never just said no to Hitsugaya-taichou period).

At least Matsumoto-san was thoughtful enough to bring peaches which was probably why she was giggling at their expense.

Seeing Kira-kun’s shaking legs and increasingly off color (he might faint with how white he was becoming), Momo decided to let up with a sigh. Looking up at her husband who was looking at her straightforwardly, Momo found that she really couldn’t stay mad especially when the person in question was sure he had done nothing wrong. And anyway he also mostly abstained from the alcohol, only taking a few sips in order not to be rude to their guests. She leaned into him even as Hitsugaya-kun teased her lightly, “You would have snuck a few sips if it was fruit wine.”

Feeling as if they were intruding into some soft and fluffy scene, the vice-captains couldn’t help but feel second-hand embarrassment at being the witnesses to a married couple’s fight (if it could even be called that).

“I hope Rukia and I aren’t as obnoxious as that,” Renji whispered discreetly.

“You totally are. It’s just that your lover’s quarrels are more explosive.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you Hinamori-kun, er I mean, Hitsugaya-san, no I mean Momo-kun!” For some inexplicable reason, Kira started crying into his arm again.

“Ahhh, taichou and Momo, could you stop making the rest of us feel so single?”

“Ahem, Rangiku-san, would you do me the honor of- “

“Yosh! That does it. Time to take this party over to the Kuchiki manor. I’m sure they’ll have some high-class sake!”

“Hey, wait a minute! When did I say- “ But Hisagi just slung his arm over Renji’s neck in a chokehold, while dragging Kira behind him. Hitsugaya privately commiserated, both with Abarai and Kuchiki. Matsumoto was a whirlwind who couldn’t be stopped. Feeling a migraine coming on at the prospect of having to pay for any potential damages, he almost didn’t notice Matsumoto sidle up to them and spirit Momo away for a careful, and yet cheerful hug. Nuzzling her cheek against Momo’s, she whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll sneak you some fruit wine sometime.”

Hitsugaya growled in warning at hearing that, “Matsumoto…” but Momo only laughed and hugged the buxom woman tightly, as his vice-captain winked at him. “After everything, taichou, I promise. Lieutenant’s honor.”

Hitsugaya calmed down, and sighed. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. Nonetheless he greeted his vice-captain, “Happy New Year, Matsumoto. I’ll be counting on you greatly for the upcoming year.”

“Thank you for visiting, Rangiku-san. Have a Happy New Year!”

With a lazy salute, she waved them both goodbye, and in a while they were both finally alone. Hitsugaya didn’t mind the company of his colleagues, while he knew Momo enjoyed it. Still, he didn’t want her to get too tired. Spying her drooping lids, he gently shook her, mindful of both her hands wrapping around her midsection, “Time for bed, sleepyhead.”

“Mmmm,” Momo yawned as she placed both arms around her husband’s neck while he scooped her up, “Hey, Shiro?”

“Hmm, what is it?”

“You know you’re going to have to drink all that sake right? And I won’t help with a single drop,” Momo giggled sleepily. As much as Momo disliked plums, she knew Hitsugaya-kun didn’t have a taste for alcohol either. Snuggling deeper into her husband’s broad shoulder, she smiled peacefully.

Hitsugaya blanched.  

“I’ll give some to Matsumoto.”

…

Momo felt a hand waking her from restful slumber.

Blearily opening one eye, she spotted Hitsugaya-kun already up with a bemused look on his face. He had always been the early riser between the two.

Stretching her arms and yawning, Momo fixed her hair while Hitsugaya-kun patiently waited beside her. It was still dark out. Her stomach suddenly grumbled, and while she might have been embarrassed about it before, with how often it kept happening these days, she just got used to it.

Hitsugaya-kun passed her a bowl of the leftover toshikoshi soba she’d prepared for them which she took gratefully, warming her hands on the reheated bowl.

She still felt slow as molasses, but luckily Hitsugaya-kun had always been alert. While she sleepily slurped at the noodles still only half awake, Hitsugaya-kun merely arranged her so she was comfortable leaning against his front. He even tucked her in their blankets, leaving none for himself since the cold didn’t bother him. Once he was assured that she was comfortable, he slowly opened their sliding doors so they could view the night sky. It was but a moment later that the inky blackness was replaced with slivers of rose light.

With no words passing between them, together they watched the first sunrise.

---

Hitsugaya fixed his tabi on the engawa as he waited for Momo. Not for the first time, he was gripped with that sense of déjà vu.

First sunrise. First shrine visit.

A lot of the firsts that he remembered in his life was with her.

Memory was a funny thing in Soul Society. While he remembered nothing of his old life, if he were to fix a point in time where his life started here, he found that she was always in his firsts - that her smiling face was the beginning of everything.  

First smile. First laughter. First friend.

First love.

Though he took a while to realize it. (Or perhaps like a circle, there had been no fixed point and some part of him had always known.)

Finished, he leaned back on his arms as he looked up at the withered branches. Though some things remained the same, perhaps a lot of things also changed. He remembers his first shrine visit with Momo and baachan. Back then he’d been impatient and rushing her so that they could get a move on already. But his grumbling had died in his throat when he saw her come out with a new yukata. It was nothing fancy, not even a kimono, but it was new. Everything about her then was new, from the first time he saw her put her hair up in a bun, small wild flowers threaded into the strands by baachan, to the new dusty pink yukata with plum blossoms scattered across it she had saved up for.

‘How do I look, Shiro-chan?’

‘…You look fine.’

It wasn’t even close to what he wanted to say, but only Momo would still smile brightly at him like that, leaving him dazed.

The plum blossoms were starting to bud, he noticed. Glancing down at his own kimono, he thought wryly that this was a far cry from the threadbare yukata he’d worn back then. Deep midnight blue and black, with whorls of clouds, on the back a great mighty dragon, shining in white as it rushed alongside a surging river, such that you wouldn’t know where the river ended and the dragon began. Truthfully, it was a bit ostentatious for his own tastes, but baachan had sent it and baachan had probably made it, so he would wear it gratefully.

Hearing the sliding doors open, he turned, a teasing remark of, ‘Finally done?’ at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t even get the chance.

How could he even say anything?

Just there, Momo in a resplendent silk furisode, cloaked in white and vermillion. She gave him a little twirl and he spied the phoenix at her back, feathered tail curling all over her, along with flowers bright red and yellow, exploding like fireworks. There were subtle patterns of teal and green that matched his eyes, while her hair was held up with a matching red kanzashi, stray locks curling over her ear and feathering her forehead.

Separated by years, two moments in time, and he still finds that his breath catches.

“How do I look, Shiro?”

A blush on her cheeks, eyes sparkling, happy and at peace.

He smiled.

“You look beautiful.”

Some things changed, but some things would always stay the same.

…

“I wonder if baasan got our card,” Momo murmured thoughtfully as she rubbed the silk between her two fingers. Hitsugaya-kun just hummed and nodded as he made a path for the two of them in the crowd, hand gripping hers firmly. She continued touching the silk with her other hand, softly marveling. It really was beautiful. Baasan must have started as soon as she finished with their wedding clothes to get these to them on time. The subtly sparkling white on her furisode reminded her of her shiromuku safely put away back in their private quarters at home, while the black in Hitsugaya-kun’s kimono reminded her of his montsuki. Baasan had playfully added Hyourinmaru’s four-point star as a crest, while lamenting that she couldn’t decide if she wanted Momo to wear white, or a colorful iro-uchikake.

Watching the softly falling snow outside, she had made the decision for her. Momo loved white. Baasan had only chuckled and said next time then. Letting the long sleeve fall smoothly from her hand like water, Momo smiled wondering if this was her version. This wasn’t their first shrine visit since they were married, but it was still a kind of first nonetheless.

Hitsugaya-kun briefly glanced back at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll visit her soon.” She nodded, still smiling at him.

…

“Yatta, I got great blessing! What did you get, Hitsugaya-kun?” Momo looked pleased with herself and that was more than enough for Toshiro, even as she couldn’t help her giggle at seeing his own fortune, sue-sho-kichi, small blessing to come. Toshiro wasn’t superstitious, but was the small really necessary?

Toshiro wasn’t superstitious but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. Momo tended to pull out good fortunes, almost always Dai-kichi, sometimes Chu-kichi. If the overwhelming misfortune she faced meant that the cosmic scale was being tipped back in her favor, then Toshiro thought that there was justice after all.

She traced the characters on her fortune, machibito, a person being expected or waited for, “The person you’re waiting for will come,” she mouthed softly, even as Toshiro’s heart jolted at seeing shussan on her fortune slip.

Even in moments of calm like this, sometimes the anxiety would spike up. To shake off the silly urge of wanting to bite his thumb nail he smoothed over endan and negaigoto on his own slip almost obsessively.

Hirako once told him that everything in reverse would come the right side way up eventually. He didn’t put much stock in the other captain’s words, and much less did he put stock in pieces of paper, but if they meant that Momo would have a lifetime of fortune and happiness, then he would believe them wholeheartedly. It was nothing less than she deserved. And if nothing else, he’ll believe in himself. He’ll will those fortunes to reality if he had to.

“These are good fortunes, aren’t they Hitsugaya-kun?”

They were.

…

Just before they were about to pray, Momo suddenly asked him, “What did you dream about, Hitsugaya-kun?”

“Nothing much, just the past.”

Momo suddenly chuckled, “I had an auspicious first dream, a hawk flying high in the sky.”

“Oh,” Toshiro raised a brow, questioning. People talked about signs all they liked but it was actually rare to dream about them.

Momo smiled sheepishly, “Hehe, well to be exact I dreamed about the first time Hitsugaya-kun showed me his bankai. I remember being so amazed at seeing you fly.”

Toshiro’s brow raised even higher, “So I’m a bird now, is that it? You know you can’t just make up signs like that.”

Momo just smiled back impishly. “I’m collecting luck. It’s a lucky sign if I say it is. It’s up to us to make our own happiness after all.”

Toshiro just sighed in fond exasperation, he’ll tell her later if she asked but he had dreamed about a moment in the past. It wasn’t a specific moment, in fact it could have been every moment, but he had dreamed of a simple scene of them eating watermelons and watching the sunset.

It had been so tranquil that when he woke up he was disoriented at how Momo seemed to have grown overnight while Granny was nowhere to be found. Had she snuck into his bed to sleep again? Concerned, he wondered if she had another nightmare, before noticing her clasped hands in front of her. It hit him all over again, like a kidou spell, the immense but quiet happiness. Uncharacteristic of him, he had woken her because he couldn’t contain himself. The scene of watching the sunset in his dreams replaced with watching the sunrise. They had been surrounded by the mountains of their hometown in his dreams. Perhaps that counted?

A clap interrupts his reverie. Softly but enough for him to hear, Momo releases her prayer for the gods to hear as well, ‘may they be clever and strong’.

Toshiro contemplates whether or not to tell her that prayers were usually silent, but he decides against it. He doesn’t mind. Anyway, he knows what his own prayer will be.

It’s the one he’s been wishing for every night for the past year.

…

Hatsuyuki ya suisen na ha na no tawamu made  

The first snow Just enough to bend The daffodil leaves

“I thought that you wanted your first calligraphy to be…”

“I know, I know what I said, but I can’t seem to think of anything,” Momo’s eyes as she looks up at him are pleading.

Stroking her head to calm her, he then picks up the paper to carefully store away. “It’s still good.”

Momo pouts slightly perhaps thinking he was only placating her. Unfurling it, Toshiro observes it more closely, “No really, it’s good. As always your handwriting is almost too pretty,” he smirks. Momo only puffs out her cheeks and crossed her arms pretending to be offended. Really her husband could still be so childish sometimes, finding it hard to say what he wanted to say. But Momo could still read him just the same. To him, anything she said or did was beautiful. She was beautiful. It was as simple as that.

Cupping his chin in hand, he asked her, “Do you want this here? I can place it in the entranceway.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I made it for the tenth division. I hope Rangiku-san also likes it.”

“You know her. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Finally putting the paper away, he dragged over another writing desk to place in front of her. It was easier to move around and sit without his captain’s cloak over his shoulders. He can’t remember the last time he went so long without wearing it. “Speaking of Matsumoto, I hope the tenth division barracks is still standing.”

“Hush,” she chides, even as she smiles and puts brush to paper to begin another stroke, “You know Rangiku-san can be counted on when it really matters.”

Copying her, he also drew a straight line downwards, though perhaps less elegant looking. His strokes were blunt and precise, sometimes heavy-handed in places where the ink would bleed out, much the same as him. He was good at dispensing reports quickly and efficiently, but wasn’t really suited to crafting pieces of art (unless it was with blade and ice), slowly and with care. This was more Kira’s domain, or Momo’s. She could get so absorbed in each stroke that perhaps an hour would pass before she was finished with just one kanji. She wrote like she drew, as if there was meaning and an entire world in each line that made up a character. And perhaps for her there was. “I know, I know. I haven’t even had any reports yet so they can’t be doing too badly without me.”

He hadn’t said anything, but perhaps Matsumoto sensed that he would prefer not to be bothered unless it was truly an emergency. She was an excellent vice-captain like that, although he rarely said it out loud. Again, perhaps, many would call it uncharacteristic of him, that he wasn’t worrying every minute about his squad but he had enough on his mind and in his heart right now. Gazing at Momo in front of him, humming as she added another stroke, he let out a subtle sigh of relief.

He could leave it up to Matsumoto.

…

It’s Momo who wakes him up this time around, brimming with excitement.

“Shiro-chan, look! It’s snowing!”

How nostalgic, he thinks sleepily at hearing her laugh, ‘she hasn’t called me that in ages.’

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, anxiety once again begins to creep in, contrasting his wife’s honest pleasure. ‘Won’t it be too cold for her?’ There were times in the middle of the night when he would unconsciously place space between the both of them, memories flashing back to those early days when he couldn’t control his powers. But without fail and as if she had some sixth sense for it, she would only draw nearer, looping hands and legs together so he would find it harder to escape, mumbling incoherent things all the while as she drooled on him. He had no choice then but to fall blissfully back into sleep.

Noticing her husband’s contemplative gaze as he looked outside, Momo sighed and wagged a finger to catch his attention, “No messing with the weather, Shiro. I’m fine.” Cross-eyed, Toshiro reluctantly nodded. “Good,” she chirped. One crisis averted she snuggled closer, and waited for him to put his arms around her.

Suddenly and without warning, colors bloomed in the sky, a multitude of flowers sparkling brightly and dazzling. Momo could only gasp in delight.

‘Fireworks in the snow, huh?’ A far-off memory that couldn’t hurt them now.

Certainly, it was too cold, but drawing the presence nestled in his arms even more closely to him, Toshiro found that he didn’t mind. The fireworks were spectacular yes, but his gaze was permanently drawn downwards. Blue, red, yellow, pink played off across her face in flashes. He could watch fireworks forever illuminated in her eyes. There, they would never fizzle out, the sparks would never die, rather they would shine brightly forever, so long as she kept looking at him.

Suddenly overcome with feeling, he wanted exactly that. He could only whisper her name, even if there were only the two of them, “Momo…”

“Hmmm,” she responded turning to meet his eyes with her own despite the display continuing above them, “What is it, Shiro-cha –“

He was a patient man, he was. And he’ll ask forgiveness for interrupting her later, but at this moment, he wanted nothing more than her lips on his. He should let her get some rest, he should, his mind was clearly telling him that he should, so why was his treacherous body tightening his arms around her, one hand roughly weaving fingers in her hair as he tilted her head back.

She was no better, fingers wound as tightly in his own hair, drawing out a soft groan he tried to muffle against her neck, as he kissed it feverishly, softly biting to leave blooms of his own on the milky skin, a counterpoint to the flowers up in the sky. Hyoten Hyakkaso without his zanpakuto, though these flower burned rather than froze.

There were times he was deathly afraid he would freeze her, but right now, nothing else plagued his mind besides her, and as he drew her down with him, for once he didn’t mind the snow, for he was sure he could warm her as long as he kept her close.

Up in the sky, the fireworks brightly shined and illuminated them both.

…

They write together quietly, Momo occasionally showing him a character to ask his opinion on it. She had already finished with the first one, excitedly showing it to him in a bit of feverish excitement.

The strokes for ‘flower’ and ‘fire’ were lively and vibrant. It matched her perfectly. Toshiro had agreed immediately.

It was the second one they were having trouble with. Toshiro had suggested the characters for ‘spring’ and ‘tree’. It reminded Momo of Tobiume, and Momo didn’t exactly mind it for ‘spring’ matched with his own ‘winter’, but something still felt out of place.

“Isn’t it too early for spring?” In truth, it was more that she wanted more of him reflected in these strokes and lines. She places ‘sun’ next to ‘happiness’.

Hitsugaya-kun only shrugs. Momo could only smile at him fondly. “I hope they’re more like you,” she says as she idly traces the strokes for ‘wish’.

Hitsugaya-kun merely smirks back at her. “Then looks like we’re in conflict since I hope they’ll take after you.”

Momo sticks out her tongue in playful indignation. “I’m sure the kami-sama will listen to my request over yours. I’ve been collecting more luck after all.” ‘Clever and strong,’ was what she had prayed for, ‘just like their father’.

Hitsugaya-kun shakes his head in amusement. Peering over to her side, he looks at what she’s been working on, “That could work.”

Momo hums thoughtfully, looking at the character this way and that. It seems perfect – a wish, a hope, a prayer – but it didn’t seem to be quite exactly what they were looking for.

“What have you got?” She leans more to his side, before bursting into a fit of laughter. If Hitsugaya-kun is embarrassed, he makes a valiant effort not to show it. On his paper, the character for ‘big’ in bold, black, strokes. Momo’s face softens at seeing the character under it, ‘shine’. It might be her own imagination that it seems like it’s glowing.

“They’re perfect.”

…

They made it just in time for the fire festival. Perhaps it was incongruous for them to be burning something they’d been working on for days, but this was just its own kind of prayer.

Both of them hold paper lanterns, in his, ‘Hanabi’ in her own script, in hers, ‘Haruki’ in his. Small bright lights cupped into the palms of their hands. As one they let both lanterns go, up in the sky, where they’ll burn brightly and send all their prayers up to the sky.

Fervently, Momo clasps her hands together, Toshiro a steady and unwavering presence around her.

She hopes.

…

Even if they had hoped for peace to continue, truly their idyllic days couldn’t last. They were still commanding officers, and when Matsumoto shows up on their doorstop one day, he knows exactly what it means.

He knows, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Rangiku likes it no more than her taichou. She can’t even tease the both of them over the marks she spies not covered by Momo’s kimono. “Taichou…It’s Naruki City.”

He closes his eyes in aggravation, fingers closed over the bridge of his nose to stave off the migraine, as Momo and his Vice-captain look at him concerned.

For once, he wants to be selfish. It’s so close, too close. For once, he wants to forget about his captain’s cloak and his responsibilities and just stay here to shelter Momo from everything. Opening his eyes, he meets Momo’s own and is both equally dismayed and encouraged by the resolve he finds there.

Momo didn’t become a Shinigami to be protected. She became a Shinigami to protect. And it’s the same for him (except doesn’t she know by now, after everything, that she was the one he wanted to protect most of all).

Without words, she goes to get his captain’s cloak. If she feels his hands shake as she helps him put it on, then at least only she would know.

She cradles his face in her hands, arms going up to reach him now instead of down. He doesn’t know what she sees in his face, if it looks like he’s about to cry, but she only smiles calmly, ruffling his hair. When before, he had swatted her hand away, now he only leans into the simple comfort. He closes his eyes as he feels Momo draw him down and touch her forehead to his. His erratic heartbeat slows at hearing her breathe.

“I’m off.”

“Please go and come back,” she says as she bows on the engawa. There is no fear in her eyes, only trust as if telling him, ‘go and I’ll be here to welcome you when you return’. He wishes it was the same for him. He swallows before turning forward. He stops Matsumoto with a hand to her shoulder.

He has no words. “Matsumoto…”

Eyes widening in understanding, she starts worriedly, “The reports say there are at least five arrancars, taichou. I already commanded the rest of the troops stationed there to come back. I was planning to handle them myself…but the soutaichou said the both of us needed to be there.” Hitsugaya was glad she didn’t go by herself. He appreciated the soutaichou intervening on his behalf. Knowing Matsumoto, she would have rushed there headstrong and foolish for his sake.

All the points she raised were valid ones, but again all he could say was, “Matsumoto, please…” I need you here.  

There were moments where no words needed to be said, and the communication between a captain and vice-captain could be almost telepathic. This was one such moment, and as Rangiku gazed up at her not-so-little anymore captain, she could only smile in resignation, “Gotcha, taichou. But when you come back, I’m expecting an all-expense paid vacation. I’ve been working my butt off! Hey, Momo,” she called back, already making her way into the house, as Momo gazed at him with a question in her eyes, “Let’s go together!” Hitsugaya only smiled back.

Committing the sight of his wife and vice-captain smiling together, he tightened his grip on Hyourinmaru and set off.

…

Both his mind and body were on auto-pilot. He was glad Hyourinmaru had his back. It wasn’t like back then when his zanpakuto had to artificially mature him just so he could handle his own bankai. He had fully matured in all senses of the word, and had full mastery of his true bankai.

It was good that he was alone. There was no collateral damage except the enemy so he could release Shikai Hyoketsu without repercussions. But without Matsumoto there to support him, he felt more alone than ever.

He was getting tired. He lost count of how many enemies he had slain, of his own wounds and bruises. There was only one thought in his mind – to get home no matter what.

Using his sword as a crutch, he breathed out heavily before suddenly slashing out Hyoryu Senbi at the new presence he felt.

The shadow dodged and clicked his tongue. “Is that anyway ta greet yer elders? Ya look like you’ve been through hell. Need a little hand?”

Disoriented, Hitsugaya could only gape at the newcomer, “Hirako?”

“The one and only.”

Hitsugaya might have thought he was hallucinating but there was no mistaking that too-wide grin and tacky haircut. “What are you doing here? Naruki City isn’t under your jurisdiction.”

That carefree smile suddenly turned serious, “No it’s not, but I know someone who is under my jurisdiction. And I’m sure she’s missin’ a neglectful husband.” Hitsugaya growled at that. “What’re ya doin’ here? Do I have ta tell my daughter to divorce you?”

“For the last time,” a vein ticked in his forehead, this seemed like an eerily familiar experience he was having, “She is not your daughter! And anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

He might have if not for another presence suddenly jumping in, “Oh, what? Am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel or something.”

“Nah, just an in-laws spat.”

What the hell?  

He couldn’t decide what expression he was supposed to be showing. Maybe Hirako decided to finally take pity on him as he decided to answer him. “The soutaichou sent us because it looks like someone forgot to bring their vice-captain.” Heh, more like they persuaded him. Even if that softie hadn’t already been ready to pull him out after hearing he stupidly went alone, Shinji’s sure Lisa’s kick to his backside, and Nanao-chan’s sharp glare would just about do the trick. Eh, a few misplaced forms never hurt anyone. “Color me surprised when I found out Naruki City was actually under the fifth and the eight’s joint jurisdiction. Who coulda been so stupid as to put it under the tenth’s all this time?”

Hitsugaya didn’t know what was going on.

Shinji sighed. The kid could be so slow sometimes. “Oi, Hitsugaya. Lisa also brought her vice-captain. I’m sure two captains and a vice-captain would be more efficient than one captain. Yer not needed here, so wouldja just hurry on to where you’re supposed ta be already?”

Finally shaken out of his stupor, he could say nothing. He put his own misgivings aside, and bowed low.

“Thank you.”

As the tenth squad captain shunpoed out of there, Shinji let out a whistle. “What d’ya know? The kid has manners after all. Let’s hurry this up Lisa. I got a grandchild to welcome.” “Lame,” Lisa replied, completely deadpan.

He let it off.

It was a joyous occasion after all.

…

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t at home.

His mind was perfectly blank.

He couldn’t feel her reiatsu anywhere.

“Hitsugaya-taichou!”

What was his seventh seat doing here?

“Matsumoto fuku-taichou brought Hitsugaya fuku-taichou to the fourth.”

Hitsugaya-taichou immediately left without even greeting him, but Takezoe didn’t hold it against his captain. With a dozen children of his own, he’d been where the young man was now. He only hoped his captain would make it in time.

…

He doesn’t remember how he reached the fourth, only overwhelming panic.

He could feel the temperature lowering, but only distantly, the calls of his title heard in a vacuum as if he was somewhere very far away.

‘Hitsugaya-taichou, please reign down your reiatsu.’

‘Taichou, please control it, it might affect the patients.’

‘It might affect…’

“Taichou!”

He felt as if he was roughly woken up from sleep. Heavily, he lifted his head up, “Matsumoto…”

“Taichou,” Rangiku said more softly. Her little captain wasn’t so little anymore. More than once he’d had to support her when Shiba-taichou left, and even after…

But now, as she sees how he trembles under her hands on his shoulders, subtly curling into himself, eyes haunted, she is taken back to years past, to a little boy so afraid of hurting the people he loves.

Matsumoto’s voice brings him back. He can sense a cacophony of reiatsu, all mingling together, that it was hard to tell them all. Abarai with his daughter, both Kuchikis even, Kira, Hisagi, his squad, members from other squads, her friends, their colleagues, their friends.

But that only serves to forcefully remind him that he was doing it again, he can’t stop it, he’s the greatest danger to those around him, to her, he can’t ever protect her, and as he shivers, the ice creeps up even faster.

“Taichou,” Matsumoto says, voice still soft. Placing her palm firmly against his heart, she pleads, “Please. Listen.”

Boy

A thunderous sound, more presence than voice. Hyourinmaru

Shiro-chan

Toshiro

A sound like wind-chimes, laughter threading every word. He gasps.

“It’s alright,” Matsumoto assures him, smiling brightly. “She’s alright. She knows you’re here.”

…

In the end, both their wishes are granted.

Both their children have her hair, hers lit like a coal flame, his softer and reminding him of forests and trees, the coming of spring. His hair was too unique to be passed onto anyone else, she manages to joke, but no matter because she still got what she wished for. Rubbing both chubby cheeks and coaxing both eyes to open, he sees what she means when he sees his own eyes reflected back at him. Brightly shining with an inner light.

They would shine brightly, he vows to himself, as he envelops her, all of them, to him, while he buries his face against her hair.

“Shiro-chan,” she laughs, the happiest she’s been, “Are you crying?” She hardly if ever has seen him cry. She nuzzles her cheek to his. “What am I to do with my crybaby husband?”

He can’t even manage his usual ‘shut up’ amidst his tears, only hugging them closer.  Thank you.

Momo smiles. The person you’re waiting for will come.

He did. They did.

They were all home.

Okaerinasai.

[gauchestardust]

Lipstick - a RenRuki fanficfion.

In the Kuchiki manor, Rukia sits on the floor, Renji, who got invited by the girl, does the same, as the only thing separating them is the kotatsu. The manor's ambient is silent and solitary. The duo doesn't share a single word – they've been together since they were kids, Renji always talked to Rukia about literally anything. A mutual trust. The two shinigami know very well they can tell anything to each other. But this time: something's off. Both shinigami avoid each other's stares. Their faces are pink, red even, and hot too. It's like they were in a hot summer, although it's actually a very cold winter in Soul Society.

After what feels to be an eternity of silence, the red-haired shinigami finally speaks up. "So, Rukia...what have you been up to these days? I've been too busy working with Kuchiki-taicho– your brother. And...yeah, we didn't see each other a lot." He asks. In the same moment, the black-haired girl replies. "Ah, I think I've been okay. Matsumoto-san from the 10th division asked me to go shopping with her. I tried to tell her i needed to finish my duties with Ukitake-taichou, but well, it's Matsumoto Rangiku...she obviously haven't heard me." She replies.

"Ehh? And what have you two bought?"

"Well- a lot of clothes for Matsumoto-san, and she also offered herself to buy some dresses for me. And that's what she did." Sigh. "And also...a lipstick."

"Lipstick?? Really, Rukia? I don't think I remember ever seeing you wearing those."

"She told me it would be a great idea! For a..." At the moment Rukia formulates this phrase, her face slowly turns pinker than it already was. "...a certain reason."

"Oh really? And what would THAT reason be?" Renji comes closer to Rukia's face, with a smirk, as the girl tells him to shut up. "Mhm? Come on!"

"Ngh...!" She groans, pulling the redhead away. She gets up, walking to the closest dressing table. She approaches the small mirror and slowly applies the pink lipstick. Rukia does it in a slow pace, trying to seduce Renji (jokingly www). And surprisingly, it worked...! When the black-haired girl put the piece of makeup down, she saw him blushing even more.

"She looks so...h-hot..." Thinks Renji Abarai to himself, and quickly notices Rukia doing a gesture with her hand – a sign of 「come closer ♡」 – an opportunity he surely doesn't want to lose. The red-haired shinigami looks at his surroundings. "...well...Byakuya-taichou isn't here. Which means YOUR BROTHER isn't here. S-so..."

Renji gets up and walks to Rukia. Their huge size difference is noticeable. The male red-haired shinigami is so tall, being impressively 188cm (6'2 ft.), while the female black-haired shinigami is so petite, being just 144cm (4'9 ft.) – and he LOVES IT in her. He easily lifts her up, squeezing her small waist. She's just like a goddess in all ways! But that doesn't matter. At least not for now. It's time for Renji Abarai to feast the main course: her lips. This make him feel like fainting...!

They want to lose control. Renji wants to play with Rukia's lips, coated by that pink lipstick – it even has a scent, cherries...probably has a taste too.

"Ready?" The star asks.

"You bet I am." The stray dog replies.

But in the moment their lips are almost touching, both just pull away, blushing. "A-agh...! I don't know if I can do this...! I've never done this before..." The short shinigami groans, holding on her hairlocks. As for the tall shinigami, letting out a small sigh, gently holds her by the cheeks. Oh god...she's so soft, like a little bunny...

"Yo, Rukia. Don't worry, okay? Y-you know it's also my first kiss." He grins. "I gotta be honest. Since we've begun to get closer to each other...even before training to be shinigami...I have always dreamed of having you on m-my arms...you know, kissing you...–"

"..." Rukia doesn't know what to say. She just keeps listening.

"And y'know...knowing my first kiss will actually be with you...i-it's so— m-mhm...?!?!"

Renji looks down, only to see he got interrupted by Rukia, pulling him by the yukata's collar, on the tip of her toes. Her lips finally touches his. A kiss that starts kindly, but slowly turns into a hot kiss, as Renji holds Rukia on his arms, sharing the pinnacle of passion for a silly duo of teen lieutenants.

He responds to this, pinning her on the floor, with her arms open, as the kiss keeps going. Not only their lips touch, but their tongues too. Rukia lets out soft moans, squirming in pleasure. "Renji~...o-oh my god...~" She says, breaking the kiss. "T-that was...wonderful...magical..."

"Ehehe...y-yeah...that was awesome, Rukia. Look, thank you so much. Thanks for being my first one." Renji speaks up, thanking her. He have always known, but now it's definitive: he wants to be with Rukia Kuchiki forever. He wants to marry, have a life with her.

But before he could even finish the phrase, this time he gets pinned in the floor. He looks at Rukia pinning him, seeing a smirk on her face. He's going to get rewarded.

.

.

.

Now, the only things heard inside the Kuchiki manor were kissing, smooching noises and the male shinigami moaning. And after that, Rukia picked up the small mirror from the dresser and showed it to Renji. The redhead had the best vision he'd ever seen on his entire life, his reflection, his loose hair, as Rukia untied it during their moment; his face full of her lipstick marks, not only face, but neck too. And it's obvious that the shorter shinigami wouldn't stop right there.

"Well~ since my brother isn't here...we can make the most of our little fun time. Let's just hope no one comes at us now~" Rukia says, trying to act seductively. Turns out she's not the absolute best at this, but Renji loves it anyway.

"Oh god. Why not? We're lieutenants, we gotta have a break sometime." Renji gets up, picking up Rukia and carrying her to her room. It's so...so adorable. He puts her down on the bed and decides to take a look at the room.

It's full of bunny related things, especially related to chappy. There's some dresses scattered in the closet, the dresses Rangiku bought to Rukia, and also that dress Uryu made for her. And also...he notices something on the counter, he looks closer and picks it up.

It's that Chappy keychain he gave her while she was hurt, resting on that futon. He bought to her but turns out at the time, Ukitake-taichou gave her a HUGE Chappy, bigger than Soul Society as a whole. He got very envious and jealous at the time. He looks at the Chappy keychain, seeing she took great care of it, she actually loved it...it's a dear gift for her. Despite not being very used to affection, those gifts were the embodiment of heaven to Rukia. Gifts that comforted her.

The two lieutenants look at each other as Renji walks to Rukia and hugs her. "I love you." That's what they say at the same time, descending into their little heavenly moment of kissing — with love, a small temporary paradise for them.

.

.

.

Some days after their act, Rukia encounters Rangiku walking on the snowy streets, wearing a charming, pink scarf. "Ah, Matsumoto-san...!" The shorter girl calls her attention. The busty woman turns to her, examining Rukia with her blue eyes.

"Oh? Oh, hey, Kuchiki-chan!" She grins, leaning at her. "Why are you speaking to me all of sudden? I thought you'd be busy." Rangiku says, chuckling. Rukia just rolls her eyes.

"I just wanted to thank you..." She says, looking at Rangiku's grin turning into a confused face. She then explains. "You know...thank you for giving me that lipstick. It was because of it I could...a-agh..." She pulls the taller woman closer and whispers in her ear. "I-I filled Renji with kisses...and he loved it."

"Y-you what?!?! My my...! I'm so happy for you, Rukia...how was it? Did you two enjoy the moment?" The busty lady asks gently, seeming genuinely happy for Rukia. "You deserve it! You two are so close to each other...it was already expected."

Rukia blushes, looking away. "Y-yeah. But anyways...thank you so much, Matsumoto-san...I could finally kiss him...well, we can...go shopping later in the human world if you want to." The black-haired girl smiles and then walks away.

Rangiku Matsumoto waves to Rukia as she walks away. Then, she turns to walk back to the 10th division. "She's so happy, it's adorable. It surely worked. I'm so glad I could help her in love~"

Additional notes: look, this was my first...long fanfiction? since the others i have made were too short, though that ive never submitted them. i will post this one on AO3...when i have the motivation to.

i'm not used to writing these, but i hope you all like it. i'm a fan of renruki (i want to find more merch of them but it's so hard to find in aliexpress...), and to satisfy my renruki needs, i wrote this. hope you like it.

[west-tokyo-incidents]

"Met an old friend of yours, Irimi."

"Hm?" The woman looks up, "Which one?" She smiles pleasantly at Renji.

"Puck." Her smile fell as Renji sat at the bar of the coffee shop, "He asked if the dog was enjoying chewing on his bones."

"Ah, that... doesn't surprise me. He's hated me ever since I took his arm " She sighs, "Where'd you see him?"

"Close to the border of the 15th ward."

She scoffed out a laugh, "Well, he's never been smart. The Oni Clan aren't his friends."

Renji hummed under his breath, "Is he going to be a problem?"

Irimi shook her head, "He might harass us some. I doubt his wild friends would be bothered with his grudge. They would have already attacked." She began putting away the dishes she was cleaning, "And he knows if he tries anything by himself that the manager will put him in his place."

"Hm." Renji leaned on the counter, "I wonder if he actually ever went to see Uta."

Irimi looked up at him, "Why would he do that?"

"He had one of Uta's masks." Renji shrugged, "It didn't fit right, so I told him Uta would fix it."

She laughed, "I'd love to be a fly on that wall."

---

The new bell on the studio door jingled softly. Uta barely glanced up, simply noting to himself that there was someone in the studio. His current project was more important.

Something bright orange flashed in the corner of his eye and he had to do a double take. Orange was an unusual color to see, especially on someone's head. He recognized the man almost immediately. Orange hair, dark skin with tiger-striped tattoos, and one of his shirt sleeves tied an inch or two below the cut-off.

He leaned back and tilted his head, watching him as he looked over his artworks. Puck's head turned to the side, and two thoughts rapidly flipped through Uta's mind.

One, he was on the man's blind side. Two, he was wearing one of his masks.

He contemplated that second part for a moment, until he was spotted. The man turned to face him and jolted at seeing Uta's kakugan on full display. His own flared to life as he flicked to take in the rest of the artist. He shifted position, as if bracing for an attack.

Uta blinked and then gave a lazy wave, "Hello there. You're certainly not the usual face I see around here." He sits up.

Puck narrowed his eye, but didn't let his guard down, "Well, I've had two stunning reviews of this place handed to me recently, how could I stay away?" His voice was rough, but he kept a pleasant tone.

"Three, if that mask has anything to say. I didn't sell you that, I think I'd remember." Uta pointed a painted nail at the ill-fitting half mask. Puck hummed, then his Kakugan bled away as he reached up to remove it.

"I was told you could make it fit me better."

Uta eyed the man's face. The scars that littered his flesh so uncharacteristic for a ghoul were no less jarring than he imagined before. His darker skin and the darker stripes tattooed in. He's certainly... Unique, up close. To say the least.

He stood to take the mask, "I can make it suit you better, yes."

"... I meant just keep it from digging into my nose so badly."

Uta shook his head, "It's a tiger, sure, but I don't think it quite fits The Tiger. I'll resize it, but I'd have to alter the look anyways for the new size." He plucked his measuring tape up from his desk, "So I may as well have some fun with it, hm?"

Puck just grumbled under his breath, but the tone was fairly agreeable, so Uta took that as a go-ahead to do what he wanted.

"I know one of those reviews came from that darling creature with horns--" Puck chuckled behind him, "But who was the second?"

"Said his name was Renji."

Uta grinned, "I see!"

After that, a kind of quiet settled back in the studio as Uta measured his face and took some notes.

Puck settled himself in, though, and Uta took a pause.

"It's going to take a bit, I have other works to finish."

Puck blinked at him, then flustered in embarrassment, "I-oh. Sorry. I thought-- yeah, that makes sense."

Uta laughed and waved a hand, "It's fine. Give me a couple days and stop back by. Oh, and tell that horned friend of yours I said hi, will you?"

"Yeah, sure! Its name is X, by the way." Puck grinned, "It's really come out of its shell since getting your mask. Actually started talking some, so I'm sure it'll be happy to hear that."

Uta nodded and waved the man out of his shop. Things just got odder and odder. How fun!

[themultiverseheroines]

Hanako turned to Harribel who seem to know what her plan is and while she doesn't seem happy about it, she knew they'll need to do this. Hanako soon motions for Hikari to go get who they have for backup.

Hikari took off, while Hanako addresses what she's planning. "Believe it or not, while you guys engaged the Quincy in the Royal Palace, I was busy going around the Seireitei with my grandfather. Not just as a sort of backup, but for other reasons too."

Hanako took out her sword as flames begin appearing around it. "My Zanpakuto's name is Hi no Fenikkusu Hou-ou. It translates to Fire Phoenix, Hou-ou. My Zanpakuto is not just a destructive power of fire, it also have a unique ability not see in other Zanpakuto."

Hanako explains how in mythology, the phoenix is considered immortal. It can heal all sort of injuries and wounds, even the most powerful poison. But upon its death, it will be reborn. The Phoenix is essentially in a never-ending cycle where it can never die. It will come back time and time again.

"My Zanpakuto isn't just used for burning my enemies to ash, but can heal my injuries or any injuries of my allies, even cure them of any poison. No matter how serious they are. It also allows me to avoid actually dying."

As long as her Zanpakuto is intact and she leaves behind a semblance of her spiritual energy within her sword, even if her whole body is gone, she will revive.

"Essentially, I am immortal. This was a gift given to me by the Soul King upon my birth. I guess he believed I was destined to lead the Soul Society to a better direction than it was in."

The other Soul Reapers were shocked and in awe to find out that Lady Hanako was not only with such a unique Zanpakuto, but that as long as she has it, she can't die. Something they never expected would be possible.

"That is an amazing ability, Lady Hanako. But I take it there's a reason for you telling us all of this?" Renji asked wondering where she's leading with this.

"Right, well, you see, my Zanpakuto can also revive fallen allies who've died. Provided there's something left for me to revive back. So, when I arrived, I began reviving many Soul Reapers who died, along with a few others who could become allies," said Hanako who knew that last part will be explained now as Hikari came back but wasn't alone. "Ah here they are. I presume you all remember these people?"

Standing by the door were five familiar girls:

The leader of the girls Bambietta Basterbine, the creepy looking one Giselle Gewelle, the green haired one Candice Catnipp, the tall pink haired one Meninas McAllon, and the short blond girl Lilotto Lamperd.

And one male who walked past the girls and stood by, Bazz-B.

"W-What the hell? They're alive? But how?!" Yumichika till Hanako held up her sword and showed it was her. "You brought them back to life?! Are you serious?! After all they did and the number of Soul Reapers they've killed, you brought these six back?!"

"I have to agree with Yumichika, this is not what we expected you'd do, Hanako," said Captain Tetsuzaemon Iba as he scowled a little towards Bambietta due to her being the reason his captain Sajin Komamura ended up turning into a wolf.

He had sacrificed everything to try to avenge the former head captain, but ended up turning into a wolf. Losing his human like form, much of his spiritual energy, and his ability to speak human. So, seeing the girl was back, made his captain's sacrifice mean nothing.

@muses-of-the-memory

Closed RP w/@muses-of-the-memory

Its been about a few months since the fight with Yhwach and repairs to the Soul Society has continued. Much of the buildings still are in need of repairs, the casualty count is has finally finished, and some parts of the 13 Court Guard Squads have managed to resume with their duties.

Out at the Senkaimon, Captain Toshiro Hisugaya is seen standing in front of the gate. His arms within the sleeves of his coat as he appears to be waiting. Waiting for someone to appear from the gate. He was informed by the Head Captain that some very important people will be joining them soon, so he was asked to go greet them.

That and Toshiro was the only captain available, since most of the other captains were busy with other matters.

Toshiro sighed softly as he looks up at the gate, waiting for these so-called special guests to show up. "I wonder how long do I have to wait till they arrive? I know I was told to get here early just in case they arrive early, but its been over and hour and they're still not here yet."

@muses-of-the-memory

[recurring-polynya]

For Stuff For Renji's Birthday Prompts: 1) time travel turn back the clock nonsense, bc I'm an enabler and Karakura teens plus shithead Renruki teens has *Byakuya voice* strong comedic potential OR 2) Hisana lives but due to wacky circumstances, nobody notices Rukia's existence at the Academy... until they've graduated and Renruki have joined Squad 11. Dealer's choice! (Honestly whichever you pick, I might try writing the one you don't. I am not a writer these 2 just live in my head rent free)

Why would you make me choose between these, whyyyyyyyyyy?

To be honest, I almost did them both, but this was the second one I did, and I figured that I should probably do some other people’s prompts, and then I ran out of time. I might do you some time travel shenanigans later. (This should in no way stop you from writing these, I would flip my chips if you wrote something, let alone something based on my horrible ideas)

In any case, I couldn’t resist the second options and I have spun it out into a delightful bit of Byakuya-torture. Please enjoy!!!

Special thanks to @kaicko for helping me come up with the clerical error, because you all know me, I can’t just say “a clerical error.” 😂

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💀   💀   💀  

“How is the tea?” Aizen Sousuke asked smoothly.

The tea was excellent, but Byakuya wasn’t in the mood for Aizen’s needy attempts to ingratiate himself. “Adequate,” he replied dryly. “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

“Ah, diligent as always, Byakuya,” Aizen sighed, “always eager to get back to work. I’ll get to the point: I happened to speak with your wife recently at a fundraising event. She’s very interested in the people of the deep Rukon, and said she travels to South Rukongai frequently.”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“Well, I thought it was a bit of a strange occupation for a woman of your wife’s noble standing, but then Gin reminded me that she was actually from there herself, that there had been a bit of a to-do when you two married. I don’t tend to follow gossip myself--”

“I repeat, what is your point?” Byakuya gritted your teeth.

Aizen made a pissy little throat clearing noise and fiddled with a folder on his desk. “The fact is, Byakuya, your wife reminds me a great deal of a young woman who served in my squad a few years ago, whom I recalled also hailing from the Rukon. I wondered if there might be a.... connection.”

Byakuya’s shoulders stiffened. Impossible. He had put watches on all immigrants to the Seireitei. He would have reviewed anyone who came from the South 78th.

“Inuzuri Rukia,” Aizen read from his file, and Byakuya’s blood ran cold. “Shin’ou class of 2066. Unseated. Petite, like your wife. Dark hair. Very striking eyes. Unfortunately, an unremarkable shinigami. Potential for a good kidou user, but didn’t take direction well. More interested in sword combat, although she had little aptitude for it. Ah, here it is. Hometown: District 48, South Rukongai.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Byakuya said flatly. “Inuzuri is the 78th district of South Rukongai. Why would she carry a surname from a different district?”

Aizen made an exaggerated frown. “Very strange! A clerical error perhaps? Hold on a moment.” He stuck his head out of his office door and said something to the shinigami on reception duty. “Fortunately, there’s an easy way to clear this up. It’ll just be a minute.”

Byakuya gripped his teacup, unsure of how to feel. A clerical error. Class of 2066… she would have enrolled in 2060, in the middle of Hisana’s worst turn, when she had been bedridden for nearly four years. Their attention would have lapsed. It made sense.

“She does not sound like your usual recruit,” Byakuya accused. Aizen was constantly finding ways to skim the highest performers from the Academy, all the gifted children.

Aizen looked sheepish. “Ah, well, you see, there was a young man of some talent that I was eager to recruit who was… attached to her. I thought she might have some potential if properly guided, but it never panned out.”

Aizen’s good deed was suddenly beginning to make sense. The girl had transferred out and taken Aizen’s prize with her. He wanted Byakuya to go fetch her away in hopes that the talented one would come home. Byakuya actually felt much better now that he’d identified Aizen’s ulterior motive, and further, that it had more to do with his own petty recruiting schemes than Byakuya’s family (specifically, Byakuya’s wife).

There was a knock at the office door, and upon being bid entry, a young woman walked in. Although indeed petite and dark-haired, she looked nothing like Hisana, and Byakuya remarked as much.

“Oh, no, this is my Seventh Seat!” Aizen chuckled. “Miss Hinamori, you were friends with Inuzuri Rukia, isn’t that correct?”

The young woman’s eyes had gone wide when she recognized Byakuya. “Er, yes, sir,” she said, her eyes darting between the two captains. “We shared a room while she served here.”

“Do you happen to remember what district she was from?” Aizen asked in an overly friendly manner.

“Oh, sure, it was South 78,” Hinamori replied. “Inuzuri, of course.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know all the outermost ones,” Aizen said in his goofy voice again. “Her paperwork says 48.”

Hinamori’s brow furrowed for a moment and then her face brightened. “She and Abarai had very heavy accents when they first came to the Academy, and used a lot of deep Rukongai language quirks. I don’t remember all of it, but they both used to use ‘shichi’ instead of ‘nana’ for seven, especially when referring to their district. They weren’t very fond of their home district. I wonder if the registrar misheard.”

“Well, there you go!” Aizen said, slapping his hands on his desk. “A very logical explanation!”

Hinamori beamed.

Byakuya found Aizen’s need to be liked by his subordinates very unprofessional and off-putting, but he tried to push it aside. He was trying not to be too eager, but this was probably the best lead he’d had on Hisana’s sister in all the years they had been searching. “Where is she now?” he grumbled.

Aizen turned his doe eyes on his fawning subordinate once more. “I don’t suppose you still keep in touch? She couldn’t have lasted very long there, they must have transferred again?”

Hinamori made a face like she didn’t want to say the answer. “I’m afraid that Kira and I had a bit of a falling out with Abarai and Inuzuri when they left. I haven’t talked to them in a few years, although we still have some mutual friends. As far as I know, though, they’re both still at Squad Eleven. I heard they were doing fairly well there, actually.”

The room seemed to retreat around Byakuya. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and the reverberations of the most horrible words he could possibly think of: Squad Eleven.

---

Byakuya knew it was poor etiquette to visit another captain’s squad when the man was out, but he absolutely could not stomach the idea of discussing the matter of his wife’s sister with the Kenpachi, so he waited until Zaraki and his miniature lieutenant were sent out to go trample half of East Rukongai before visiting.

He also knew that he probably should have said something to Hisana, but he couldn’t bring himself to get his wife’s hopes up, only to dash them, should this turn out to be nothing, like so many leads before it. So, the secret sat in his stomach, heavy and acidic, jostling with the guilt of his breach of etiquette.

“Is there someone here,” he gingerly asked one of the gentlemen on gate duty, “who takes care of administrative matters for the squad?”

The man swiveled his head, which appeared to grow directly from his torso with no need for an intervening neck, to his fellow guardsman. “What?”

The other fellow had been busy trying to remove wax from his ear with a pinky. “WHAT?” he shouted back.

“Paperwork!” Byakuya said a little louder. “Is there an office of some sort? A person who knows what’s going on?”

He supposed he could have asked for the girl, Inuzuri, directly, but he didn’t feel… ready.

“I think he wants Ayasegawa,” the neckless guard hazarded.

“WHAT?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Eventually, the burly gentleman returned. With him was a strangely elegant person with a silky curtain of hair cut severely to chin length and piercing violet eyes. “It really is you,” the lovely man said with a level of disdain that Byakuya almost had to admire. Before he had a chance to get offended, the man dipped into a respectful bow. “Welcome to the Eleventh, Captain Kuchiki. Fifth Seat Ayasegawa at your service. What in Soul Society can I possibly do for you?”

“Apologies for visiting while your captain is abroad,” Byakuya replied, not meaning a word of it.

“Oh, he’ll be very sorry to have missed you,” Ayasegawa frowned. “But I’m sure you could make it up to him later.”

Byakuya’s eye twitched. “Perhaps. I have come to enquire about a young woman whom I am told transferred to your squad three years ago.”

“Does she have a name? That might make it a little easier.”

“Inuzuri Rukia.”

Both of Ayasegawa’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth curved into a feline grin. “Ninth Seat Inuzuri, of course!”

Byakuya blinked. “Ninth Seat? Captain Aizen told me she was middling at best.”

Ayasegawa's face suddenly went stiff. “She was not well-served at the Fifth, but she has bloomed here most beautifully. Inuzuri is my personal protege, you know.” He stared at Byakuya under hooded eyes. “What is your interest in her? Captain?”

Byakuya took a deep breath through his nose. “My wife is also from Inuzuri. She is trying to locate someone she knew there. It is possible this Rukia is that someone.”

Ayasegawa frowned. “Well, I can introduce you, if you like. I should warn you, though, Rukia doesn’t have a lot of lost love for her hometown.”

“My understanding is that there isn’t much to love about it.”

“Mmm,” Ayasegawa agreed. “Well, come along, let’s go find her.” He concentrated for a moment, clearly trying to find her reiatsu. She must be a woman of some power, after all. “Ugh! She and Abarai are at it again! Every day!”

Byakuya swallowed stiffly.

“Well come on! She’s out at the training fields, clobbering our Tenth Seat, yet again.”

Oh. That kind of “going at it.”

Ayasegawa was shaking his head. “The two of them are literally an unstoppable force and an immovable object.”

“Abarai was also at the Fifth?,” Byakuya probed cautiously. “I was told they were close.”

“Of course they’re close!” Ayasegawa scoffed. “They’re partners!” He thought for a moment. “Abarai is from the 78th as well, you know. If Rukia turns out to not be your girl, perhaps one or the other of them knew the person you’re looking for. Abarai is one of those people who just… knows everyone. He’s the personable half of the pair.”

“‘Partners’?” Byakuya echoed. “What�� kind of partners?”

Ayasegawa stared back at him like he was insane. “Partners.”

This path of inquiry clearly wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but wasn’t particularly relevant, either. “I did not think kidou-type zanpakutou were permitted in the Eleventh,” Byakuya sniffed. “Aizen’s records indicated Inuzuri wields an ice-and-snow type.”

Ayasegawa gave a little shrug. “Zanpakutou classifications are arbitrary. Obviously, if she had a bunch of showy blizzard attacks like Matsumoto’s little prodigy friend, it would be a no-go. Rukia can take the blade of her sword down to sub-zero temperatures. She has a weapon-shattering attack and she doesn’t feel pain when she’s fighting. It’s fundamentally no different than a zanpakutou so massive that only the wielder can lift it, or a whip sword that’s controlled with one’s reiatsu.”

This sounded like a quibble to Byakuya, but it’s not like he had come to the Eleventh looking for sound logic.

“She’s incredibly fast, probably the fastest person in the Eleventh, although no one’s really sure what Yachiru’s top speed is,” Ayasegawa continued on. He glanced at Byakuya slyly. “I hear you are very fast.”

“You have heard correctly.”

“That’s why Abarai can’t beat her. If he could land one really hard hit on her, she’d go down, but he’s not fast enough and she’s just too agile. He’s my partner’s protege, you see, so I have to take their little scraps very personally.”

How did this man talk so much?

“What did you say your wife’s relationship was to her again?”

“I did not.”

“Ah, right. Oops, look out!” Ayasegawa abruptly dove to one side as a giant mass of shihakushou and pink hair and what might be a sword came crashing through the split rail fence surrounding the training field.

Byakuya was not in the habit of ducking, so he merely plunged the force of his reiatsu down into the earth like a piton. It was almost, but not entirely sufficient. Byakuya gritted his teeth as he was driven back, dirt piling up behind his heels as he skidded backwards.

When they finally came to a halt, Byakuya looked down at the meaty youth lying at his feet. This must be the infamous Abarai, although he certainly didn’t look like one of Aizen’s usual simpering overachievers. The first thing Byakuya observed was the eye makeup. Most shinigami applied at least a little eyeliner, on grounds of tradition, but few bothered to blacken the entire eye socket, as in the skeletal facepaint of old. The second thing Byakuya noticed were the tattoos painted across his forehead and neck. They were black and spikey and horrible. The third thing was the hair, which was bright pink and spikey, and utterly at odds with the makeup and tattoos. The fourth thing was the big, sheepish grin, which honestly just tied the whole hideous tableau together.

Byakuya glared down at the lout, and in a moment of pettiness, flared his reiatsu to a level that should have sent blood spurting out of his ears.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to do much to someone who has a weekly sparring slot with the Kenpachi,” Ayasegawa commented dryly.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” the lummox cheerfully apologized as he sat up and brushed himself off. He had an Inuzuri accent so thick you could spread it on toast, an accent that Hisana tended to slip into only when she was extremely bent out of shape. Abarai snapped the sword hilt in his hand, and the tangled pile of steel on the ground neatly retracted into something that looked a little more like a weapon, if a weapon were designed by a creative and overly violent child.

“That’s a captain, you buffoon!” another voice rang out, and every muscle in Byakuya’s body locked. “Show your respects!”

The voice clearly affected Abarai as well, because he leapt to his feet, spun, and slammed into a bow. “My apologies, Captain…” his eyes glanced up and abruptly widened, “Kuchiki.”

“Greetings, Captain Kuchiki! Welcome to the Eleventh Division! I apologize very profusely for throwing Tenth Seat Abarai at you!” A second young person had come to join Abarai in his bow, and they both rose in unison, Abarai looking suddenly pale and nervous, his companion looking calm and confident.

So this was Inuzuri Rukia. She had Hisana’s voice. She had Hisana’s stature, and standing next to Abarai made her look positively childlike. She wore the same dreadful eyeblack, but the eyes that shone out of it were a variation on Hisana’s, harder and three shades more purple. The rest of the face was Hisana’s. Her hair was dark, shaved on the sides, arranged into porcupine spikes on top, although one lock hung down stubbornly between her eyes. Her ears glittered with silver piercings. At least she was free of awful tatt-- wait, no. Byakuya had missed them at first, because they were white. Abarai’s tattoos were spiky and sharp, but Inuzuri’s were graceful swirls, like ribbons wrapping lazily down her forearms. Even her reiatsu was like Hisana’s-- but instead of a cool, refreshing wintergreen, Inuzuri’s was the bone-deep cold of winter, a cold so harsh it burnt in the lungs.

There was no doubt.

This atrocious delinquent was his long-lost sister-in-law.

“Can we help you with something, sir?” Inuzuri prompted. “Abarai here’s a big fan of yours.”

“Shut up, Rukia,” Abarai managed through gritted molars.

“Inuzuri Rukia, you died as an infant thirty-six years ago and were sent to the 78th District of South Rukongai, is that correct?” Byakuya said stiffly.

Inuzuri and Abarai both bristled, a pair of mongrels raising their haunches. “That seems about right,” Inuzuri replied slowly. “My early years are a little hazy.”

“My wife, Hisana also died thirty-six years ago and was sent to Inuzuri with her infant sister,” Byakuya went on. “They were separated. My wife has been looking for her sister ever since. You… resemble her greatly.” Byakuya let the implication hang in the air. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

There was silence for a moment. Then there was the distinct noise of a laugh that, having been held in, had escaped through someone’s nose. “Sorry! Pardon me!” Ayasegawa wheezed, clapping one hand over his mouth and looking away. “Bit of. Dust. In my throat.”

“I told you! I told you, you looked like that picture of her in the Bulletin!” Abarai was hissing.

“I thought you were lying because you thought she was pretty!” Inuzuri hissed back.

“I thought she was pretty because she looks just like you!”

“Now is really not the time, Abarai!” She cleared her throat and tried to stand up a bit taller, a futile effort. “So, uh, so what? What does that mean, if I am her sister? Does that… does that make me noble?”

A higher pitched wheezing came out of Ayasegawa. The level of impudence was extraordinary.

“I would like you to come to my home to meet her, first,” Byakuya put off making any promises. “We can discuss what comes next. As a family.”

“I’m at work right now,” Inuzuri excused.

“Inuzuri, I need to know how this pans out, you can have the afternoon off,” Ayasegawa informed her.

Inuzuri’s confidence seemed to be draining out of her. She took a tiny step closer to Abarai and groped for his hand. “I’m bringing Renji,” she declared.

“Is he compulsory?” Byakuya asked. Inuzuri was absurd looking too, but at least she was small.

“He’s my family,” Inuzuri insisted.

Byakuya’s brows furrowed. This could prove problematic. “In any sort of legally binding sense?”

“We’re engaged!” Inuzuri announced.

“We are?” Abarai goggled.

“I told you I’d marry you if you could ever manage to beat me in a fight! What else would you call that?” Rukia hissed at him in a voice that was still, unfortunately, perfectly audible.

“I’ve been trying every day, and honestly, Rukia, it’s not looking good for me!”

“Can you just go with it for once, instead of arguing with me every time?”

“If you want to leave and never tell anyone you found her,” Ayasegawa put in, “I am very bribable.”

Byakuya was sorely tempted.

---

End note: To further explain the number mix-up, as I understand it “seven” in Japanese can either be said as “nana” or “shichi”. People usually say “nana” for two reasons-- 1) to avoid confusion with 4 (”shi”, although you can also say “yon”) and because “shi” is a homophone for death. Given how shitty the districts in the 70s are, I rather liked the idea that they residents use the “shichi” pronunciation as a bit of gallows humor. (And if you don’t have a rude nickname for the town you grew up in, well, congrats for not growing up somewhere shitty)

I don’t actually speak Japanese, tho, so forgive me if this is all nonsense. 😁

[ramblingkat]

Fic: Tattoos

A late fic for Day 3 of UraIchi Week 2021. I went with Rebellion, which has turned into no power au Teenage Rebellion. With implied underage smuttiness, though it’s not on screen. 

Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke, Shihoin Yoruichi

Summary: Isshin was a ridiculously lenient parent. At least to Ichigo. He’d never put many limits on his oldest child, no matter what shit Ichigo got up to. So when he had firmly said no tattoos, most people would have assumed that Ichigo would have agreed, as one of the few requests of his father.

Those people did not know Ichigo very well.

Isshin was a ridiculously lenient parent. At least to Ichigo. He’d never put many limits on his oldest child, no matter what shit Ichigo got up to. So when he had firmly said no tattoos, most people would have assumed that Ichigo would have agreed, as one of the few requests of his father. 

Those people did not know Ichigo very well. 

He went from idly speculating on them, because Renji some crazy ones over his neck and shoulders. And even further down. When Isshin had heard Ichigo talking about it with Karin, he had put his foot down. And Ichigo went from idly speculating to wanting one more than anything he had ever wanted. 

He might be a bit of a shit. 

At first, he had just done some research, checking prices and styles and such. The biggest problem he was running into was that he wanted someone decent who would still give him one. The biggest stumbling block was the first thing Yoruichi-san mentioned when he asked where she got hers. 

“You are underage,” the woman pointed out, even as she admired the tattoo that was exposed on her thigh. The woman did enjoy showing off skin wherever she could, and the tattoo she had curling around her leg was much more in line with what Ichigo was looking for over Renji’s thick black lines. 

“So?” Ichigo looked at her, expression one hundred perfect unimpressed. “It’s not like I don’t have a fake ID. -You- got me that ID so we could go drinking together.” He waved away that concern. “Look. I want one, but I’m trying to be smart about it. Besides, I know you. You know every underhanded, shady place around. I know you know at least one place that will give me a tattoo without giving me who knows what else.”

He stared into her gold eyes, determination evident in his. “And if not, I’ll talk to Renji. I know he got his first ones done while he was underage.”

“Renji has shit taste,” Yoruichi protested, even as she was pulling out her phone. Ichigo felt a certain smugness as he realized that he had won. At least a little bit. She was contacting someone, and given her opinions of Isshin, Ichigo knew it wasn’t his father. 

There was a soft buzz as whoever she texted replied after a bit. Yoruichi read it, then tucked her phone away. “You are buying me lunch,” the woman informed Ichigo. “And we are stopping off, and you are buying some more food. If we bring him breakfast, he’s more likely to hear you out, at least. After that, it’s up to you to convince him.”

Already standing, Ichigo frowned a bit. Breakfast? It was afternoon.  

“Who are we going to?” The use of ‘him’ meant it wasn’t Soi Fon or his cousin Kukaku. Not that he thought either of them were tattoo people, even if his cousin had a pretty nice one herself. But those were some of the few people he knew that were in Yoruichi’s circle of friends. 

“My adopted brother.” She grinned. “Don’t worry. He’s much less likely to bite if we bring him food.”

The first view of Yoruichi’s brother would have told Ichigo they were likely adopted siblings anyway. He was pale, the skin that Ichigo could see, with a mass of ash blond hair bundled up into a messy bun. 

His back, which was facing them as they came in, was bare of cloth but covered with ink. The center of it was a woman with long dark hair in an elaborate hairstyle, wrapped in red fabric. Her pose reminded him of the statues of bodhisattvas or saints, all calm and poise, her eyes close and face a picture of peace. 

Her arms, though, were jointed like a doll’s. In one was a blade. The other held a fan with sharpen tips. 

It was a nice piece, and Ichigo wanted to look at it more. But the sound of them coming in made the man turn. He blinked a little blearily at them, though he perked up at seeing Yoruichi. 

Then the smell of the food in the bag Ichigo carried got the man’s attention. The blond sniffed the air a few times, then looked at Ichigo. He had pale eyes, though they looked more blue or gray rather than Yoruichi’s gold. 

After an elbow from Yoruichi, and Ichigo offered up the food. It vanished from his hand, and he blinked as he saw Kisuke start digging into it. Shit, the guy was as fast as Yoruichi was. Guess he trained in the family martial arts as well. 

It would explain the man’s shoulders. And arms. And the muscles on his back that were not hidden by the ink at all. And the man’s chest, where it wasn’t hidden by the loose wrap that seemed to be his shirt. Ichigo was convinced it was a scarf with pretensions, as it looped around the man’s neck, then dropped to tie around his waist. Technically, he had a shirt, even if it hid very little. That was something Ichigo could appreciate. 

Ichigo swallowed as he realized that Yoruichi’s brother was hot. Really hot. The sort of hot that made Ichigo want to put his mouth all over the guy. Shit.

“You two have fun,” Yoruichi chirped, waving and letting herself back out of the door. There was a wordless sound of protest from Ichigo, who felt a bit abandoned. Then he heard a chuckle from the man. 

“Ah, Yoruichi-san is a fan of throwing people in the deep end,” he said. “Please, have a seat, Kurosaki-san.” The man smiled. “I’m Urahara Kisuke.”

Ichigo blinked, even as he did grab a seat. They were in a lounge area, and he realized Yoruichi had led them through a side door of a tattoo parlor. “Good afternoon,” he said, memories of manners his mother had taught him kicking in. No Shihoin? Wasn’t he adopted?

Though…. “When did Yoruichi-san tell you my name?” It was a dumb question, but Ichigo was looking for anything to fill the quiet that wasn’t “Gimme a tattoo,” or “You are hot, fuck me over this chair?”

There was a soft laugh as Kisuke set the cup of juice that Yoruichi had insisted them pick up down. “I’m the one who made your ID.”

Oh. Ichigo had not expected that. Tattoo artist and a forger? That was a range of talents. 

He was pulled from his thoughts as something landed on his lap, and he looked down to see an imperious black cat looking up at him. He was reminded of Yoruichi’s cat; only this one was covered in long fur. Long, soft fur, as he carefully started to scratch the cat. It took a moment of thought from the creature, but the cat finally closed its eyes and started to purr. 

“That’s Benihime. She’s a pretty pretty princess,” Kisuke said with amusement. “And she will bully you for everything you’ll give her. I beg of you not to give her food.”

Ichigo blinked, looking back at Kisuke, who had demolished the food he had been given. “I don’t have any food to share.” Because the only food he had brought was what Kisuke had eaten.

The man gave him a lazy smile. “Well, depending on the tattoo we put together, you’ll be coming back at least once more. Maybe more often than that.” Then he gave Ichigo an undeniable once over, expression approving before the man stood and gathered his trash to throw it away. “So you’ll be seeing her a lot. She’s a slut for attention.”

“So we got something in common,” Ichigo said, mouth getting ahead of his brain as he watched Kisuke walk across the room, jeans accenting a rather nice ass. And the man was barefoot. Fuck. He was going to have to pay Yoruichi back for this later. Either with revenge or with something good. Because Ichigo was horrible at filtering his mouth at times, and he was going to end up hitting on Kisuke eventually. Probably bluntly. Hopefully, he wouldn’t insult the man.

Then Kisuke chuckled, low and throaty, and Ichigo had to swallow hard. “If you stare any harder, Kurosaki-san, you’ll set my clothing on fire. I assure you, there are easier ways of getting them off me.”

And if that wasn’t an invitation, Ichigo didn’t know what was. Especially when Kisuke glanced over his shoulder, smiling at the teen. “If you like, we can head up to my apartment and talk about designs and...other things.”

Subtlety was not a requirement here, apparently, and Ichigo grinned. A hot older guy wanted to have sex? Yes, please. 

He scooted Benihime off his lap, the cat protesting as he moved her, and then stood. “I’d like that,” he said. 

Having a chance for a little teenage rebellion was going better and better for Ichigo. 

[yamithediaperdork]

Just in for my tune up (Bleach)

Just in for my tune up

Ichigo yawned loudly as he woke up in his crib. one would think that sense being labeled a helpless diaper fag slave that would mean Ichigo would get to sleep in once and awhile but one would be wrong.

Instead as the head slave he was his 'honor' to go and wake the other slaves up so he could then crawl in bed with master Renji before the new captain would have to get up for work.

Knowing that if they dragged their feet they'd cost Ichigo his much desired cuddles, some of the slaves like Toshiro tried to take their time.

A trip head first into a diaper pail did wonders to motivate the troops though and while all of the slaves where young men and boys, and they were all clad in nothing but bunny slippers and diapers, it was clear who reported to who.

As such Ichigo trusted the rest of the morning over to his lackeys and with a stern look on his face waddled back to masters bedroom, his stalking off ruined somewhat as just before he left the room a loud bubbly fart rang out from his bottom and Ichigo was heard cursing and swearing, and if one was brave enough to peek, cow boy waddling up the stairs as the back of his white diaper deformed and turned brown.

One diaper change latter (One did NOT just cuddle with the Master while smelling like sewage unless he requested it as such!)

And Ichigo was cuddling into Master Renji and mewing happily, wishing the stupid clock would break so he could enjoy this for just a bit longer.

Sadly the wants of a cock caged and hollow tube plugged diaper fag doesn't mean much in the living world, and even less here in the spirit realm.

For most diaper fags like himself the state that they were treated like would of horrified them. Ichigo on the flip side had shed tears of joy and had gotten himself outed so fast some barely recall the brief hour of adulthood he'd had before finding out how he'd be treated.

Renji smirked as he opened his eyes, the alarm hadn't gone off yet but he'd been faking his sleep so that Ichigo could get in lots of cuddles with him before he'd have to give the cute little slave the bad news.

Despite promising Ichigo that if he went for the permanent plug and cage treatment that he'd be there at every adjustment, as twice a year the cage was made smaller and the plug bigger, He'd been there for all of them but today when he was due for his last one..

"Morning cutie pie. I take it the boys are all hard at work?" Renji asked, pulling Ichigo in for a kiss and patting the slave's padded bottom. "Oh, still clean?"

Renji of course knew the boy had changed, but loved to semi torment poor Ichigo so he had made sure to add a note of disappointment to his tone.

"Ah! No! wait sir! I was good and woke up soaked and TOTALLY loaded my diapers after getting everyone ta work! I just didn't wanna stink up your bed! Please don't be upset with me!" Ichigo whimpered.

'dear god, like sandblasting a soup cracker.' Renji chuckled mentally.

"I suppose I'll let it go this time, but only because I have some bad news for you." Renji said, laying on his side now in his black silk PJ's.

Ichigo had turned on his side to face Renji, but copied his pose.

"W-what is it? do we have to get rid of one of the slaves again sir? they're getting along so well together!" Ichigo whined.

"Oh No, I don't need to give more slaves to anther captain. it's just..you know that I care for you a far deal more then I should since your just a diaper fag slave right?" Renji started.

"And don't think I don't love every second of it." Ichigo coo'ed.

"But..well..There was a last second meeting called for today at 10 am." Renji said slowly.

"But..At 955 i got in for my final adjustment..how can you be in two places at the same...time..Oh." Ichigo said, trailing off then glaring at Renji. "But you promised!"

"Ichigo.." Renji sighed, moving to pull him in for a hug.

"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" the slave yelled and pushed away at Renji.

Ichigo got up and huffed, grabbing a pillow and about to hit Renji with it but a look from him had Ichigo dropping the pillow and wetting himself.

"Little man, need I remind you I literally own you, so if I can't keep a promise from time to time, I'm sorry, but your just a stupid diaper fag anyways!" Renji snapped.

As soon as he said it Renji regretted it, if he had slapped Ichigo across the face he doubted the boy could of looked so stunned or hurt. he went to say something else but Ichigo slid out of bed and bowed.

"Of course Master. I'm sorry Master. I'll leave you to get dressed..Master." he said and walked out.

"..I think it would of been easier to pay the 10,000 dollar fine for missing the meeting. this isn't going away anytime soon." Renji groaned and flopped back into bed.

"Somebody should of warned me about this side of being a master."

Getting dressed Renji made his way downstairs and was greeted by each of his slaves except two.

Ichigo who was trying to finish his morning meal as fast as possible and clearly still sore at Renji, and Toshiro.

the former captain had been forced into diaper fag slavery when he was discovered dressed like a darling baby girl in the public square. he maintained that he had been drinking and didn't know what had happened but of course no one believed him.

the irony was they really should of because it was Renji himself who's set the captain up for his great downfall and had taken delight in making sure Toshiro was the prissiest of the prissy sissies he had.

Toshiro had figured it out within days but since he had no legal standing anymore there was nothing he could do about it and thus while making sure to clean and cook well enough to be allowed to stay (Bad slaves being sent to auction) he kept to himself for the most part and ignored Renji as much as possible.

'Great, this goes on with Ichigo for too much longer and I'll have a pair of ice queens.' Renji glumly thought, sipping his coffee.

"Alright everyone listen up." Renji said after he finished breakfast. "I'm going to be at a meeting till at least 2pm. Ichigo will be out getting his final adjustment done but that's no excuse for you all to slack off. Toshiro, I'm putting you in charge till Ichigo gets back. Questions, comments, concerns?" Renji asked.

"Wait, you're putting little miss frost in charge?" whined a long haired red head.

"That is what I just said. Oh and before you go to argue, keep in mind the stables need to be mucked out today. what you say next could make the difference between getting to use a shovel and wheelbarrow and a sand shovel and bucket."

"..Have a good day sir."

"Smart boy!"

With Ichigo still in just his diapers and some sneakers, he was in his car seat as Renji drove the sulking boy to the adjusters office, even though Ichigo had fussed and whined he wanted to just walk.

Looking in the rear view mirror, Renji could see Ichigo was sulking big time and after taping his figures on the steering wheel for a few minutes, spoke up.

"Ichigo about this morning.." He started to say, but Ichigo cut him off.

"oh, there's nothing to say sorry about Master. You made it clear what you really thought about me Master. I'm sorry for being a inconvenience Master." Ichigo said in a respectful voice and tone, but there was venom in it.

"Look I'm trying to say sorry here, can you cut back on the brat mode for 5 freaking minutes?" Renji asked.

"Of course ..Master." Ichigo said and smirked and despite himself, Renji smirked too.

"Look you know I care about you more then a master is suppose to for his diaper fag, right?" Renji asked.

"I mean..Yeah i know..I've seen you get teased 'bout it." Ichigo said, looking down and kicking his legs softly.

"But I keep doing it, because I do care about you. even if there wasn't the diaper fag slave law I'd of likely still kept you around in thick diapers and waiting on me, and I know you'd of enjoyed every last second of it." Renji chuckled.

"ehehehe really? so so..you like my stinky diapers?" Ichigo asked, peaking up.

"well I like you so I suppose I'll put up with your stinky bum too~" Renji said and looked back and winked.

"ehehehee yayyy!" Ichigo coo'ed and cheered and clapped his hands.

"So, are we good?" Renji asked, pulling in front of the adjustment office.

"Uh-huh! Sorry for being a butt before." Ichigo said as Renji let him out of his car seat.

one big hug to daddy later and being told he'd have to walk home, and Ichigo waved bye bye and headed inside as Renji scrambled to get to the meeting on time.

Ichigo was well know and so breezed though the reception area and was in a office, waiting on his adjuster of the day while face down, ass up on a exam table, reading a comic book he'd snagged from the reception area while he waited.

"huh, and hear I thought you didn't know HOW to read..or do you just enjoy all the pretty pictures?" asked a voice that Ichigo instantly recognized.

a look over his shoulder confirmed, the ex captain of Master daddy's squad after being involved in some sort of disgrace, Byakuya.

He wasn't in his normal fancy robes or the like, and instead wore a light green nurses suit and cap and had a cart in front of him loaded with everything he would need.

"Oh great, when did this place start hiring asshole." Ichigo said.

"Careful now, you're just a slave, I can-"

"Get yourself in shit if Renji finds out you tried to send me to a detention center. you got zero threats to make so let's get this over with." Ichigo said, having never been the guys biggest fan.

"..Cocky brat." Byakuya huffed and pushed the cart in the rest of the way and closed the door.

"At least when i fell from grace it wasn't something as shameful as this.. does your family even-" Byakuya started to ask and Ichigo cut him off.

"Master took me last Christmas to see them, they got me lots of baby toys." he said looking almost bored.

"Well..I bet your old fr-" The brunette started, determined to get Ichigo blushing and ashamed.

"All know, and those who can't handle it I don't bother to try and see. Oh and my ex girlfriend knows, rumors of it are around my old school.. Yes i bounce in my shitty diapers and suck lots of dick.. Oh, what other questions did you have to try and torment me with?" Ichigo asked, listing things off on his fingers then giving a impish grin to Byakuya.

"...I really hate you." Byakuya growled and pulled on some rubber gloves.

"Awwww, me too sweetie, me too." Ichigo chuckled and blew a kiss at Byakuya.

Byakuya was fuming as he went to work, yanking down Ichigo's slightly wet diaper and examining the lock on the fag's 2 inch wonder and the size of the tubing in him, then smirked.

'Somebody fucked up~ this is the third biggest size in and on him, not second..So when I put him in first..Ohhh hehehe, you're gonna regret pissing me off..' Byakuya thought with a evil mental chuckle.

"So, Ichigo, I've heard you bragging up how despite being a lowly diaper fag slave.. you're still rather strong and can handle pain." Byakuya said, starting to put on the solvent for the special glue that was used to hold the tube in place even when Ichigo wasn't diapered.

"heh, you know it. Ain't an ass whupping I can't take and then just say 'please daddy, may I have more?'" Ichigo said with a note of pride in his voice.

"Bullshit. I bet you just sob and whine the whole time and Renji just goes easy on your because your such a disgrace." The Ex captain taunted.

"Fuck and You." Ichigo huffed. "I can take anything without crying, unless tears are what Master daddy wants to see so NYAH!" with with that the orange haired big baby blew a raspberry at Byakuya.

"heh, you sure about that? how about a friendly little wager?"

"I'd Hardly call you a friend..but what ya got in mind?" Ichigo asked.

"I won't use the numbing meds so you'll feel everything as I do the final adjustment. if you end up crying from the pain of it, I get a blowjob from your legendarily talented mouth." Byakuya said.

the solvent had worked it's magic and Byakuya was gently tugging the large hollow plug out of the boys gaping ass.

"A-Ahhh.. And..and what if I win?" Ichigo challenged back. "I can't exactly get head from you when I'm gonna be locked up forever."

"heh, if you can hold your tears in, I'll let you spank me silly." Byakuya said, confident in the fact Ichigo would be bawling soon.

"heh, not good enough. I get to spank you THEN diaper you." Ichigo said, giggling like crazy even as his once tight hole now a massive cave of a asshole twitched and throbbed.

"I uh.." Byakuya hesitated at that. it wasn't again, like he thought Ichigo had a snow ball's chance in hell of actually beating him, but the mental image of him sobbing and sucking his thumb while this diaper fag slave pampered him brought a big blush to his cheeks, and a tent to his pants,.

"If your too chicken that's ok, you can add the numbing cream." Ichigo chuckled and made a few clucking noises before going to go back to his comic book.

"nggg deal!" Byakuya said, huffing and angry.

between the why boner and his honor being insulted he wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

"heh Ok, but no take backies~" Ichigo purred and looked over his shoulder winking.

for a second, Byakuya had the sinking feeling that rather then Ichigo walking into his trap..he'd just walked into Ichigo's.

Ichigo smirked, it was just SO easy with some guys to turn their ego against them. even daddy could be played like that if Ichigo wanted to keep it up all the time. but the big baby found it was easier and more fun to wear down on a daddy over the long term and get them wrapped around your little finger then going with short term trickery.

Buttt every now and there there was a guy who just needed to be tricked into pampers and clearly this was the case here.

Ichigo felt kinda, funny without his plug in him. while with the first one it had been horribly invasive now it was a soothing comfort though out the day and he was missing it big time.

It was also weird as he sat up and spread his legs, having the cock cage removed, without it on the air in the room seemed almost chilly to Ichigo's once might cock.

when he'd started all of this he'd had a 8 inch rod of fuck meat but now with careful training he had all of two inches, and it couldn't even get hard anymore though he could still cum.

"Ready for your final cage? the locking WILL be permanent so if you wanted to tug on your little worm a few times before it goes on, I'll let you." Byakuya said smirking.

Ichigo raised a eyebrow at that, such kindness wasn't like Byakuya, so they had to be a trick here. Still, it wasn't like he was ever gonna get a shot at this again and he nodded, reach down with a finger and thumb.

and then wince and drew his hand away FAST as the sensations were way too much for Ichigo and he was gasping and panting.

"H-Holy shit.. that was..was.."

"Yeah, normally your weenie is coated in numbing cream, but not this time and it hasn't felt your touch in QUITE some time~" Byakuya laughed then went on. "Even if I did give you permission to jerk off, you wouldn't be able to enjoy it, you'd over load."

"So..so by taking your bet.." Ichigo whimpered and glared.

"You lost out on your ONE right as a diaper fag, one last wank before permanent chastity. I know, ain't I a stinker?"

"...I'm gonna enjoy making you waddle around in massive diapers." Ichigo huffed.

"Huh? hey the deal was-" Byakuya started to say but got cut off.

"that i could diaper you. not put one diaper on, or two, just i diaper you, which implies as I see fit." Ichigo said and smirked even as his dicklet bounced and throbbed.

"..Oh shit." Byakuya whimpered, for the first time super worried.

being in massive diapers and around this place? if he was seen he'd be on the slave block before supper.

Threat made Ichigo made use of a ice cube to get his dickie to shrink down and relax, though he was rocking back and forth and blowing air out in hisses as he did so. Still, he kept from crying which was the important thing.

the cage looked WAY smaller then Ichigo would of expected but he laid on his back and covered his face with a pillow as Byakuya went to put it on, so he wouldn't have to watch.

"ah ah ah, no cheating and hiding your tears." Byakuya scolded and tugged the pillow away. "If you don't wanna watch just close your eyes."

Ichigo huffed but shut his eyes tight and whimpered as Byakuya started to force the 1/4 a inch cage onto Ichigo's soft member, Making Ichigo yelp and cry out but his eyes stayed dry the whole time and then with a click the lock was sealed, and Ichigo's cock would NEVER be freed again.

Of course while all the other cages had had a cleaning Kido inside of them to make sure he didn't get crotch rot, this one had a much stronger version since the only way to remove it now would be to well, castrate Ichigo.

"I'm Impressed, dry eyes still!" Byakuya chuckled and gave a mock clap. "Of course I didn't expect you to really break down sobbing just from having your useless nub that was once fuck meat caged. it'll be when THIS goes in." and he paused and held up the LARGE hollow plug for Ichigo to get a good look at it.

The shear size of it would put Renji to shame and Ichigo almost wondered if Renji's cock might of fit in the tubing as he reached out and ran a hand over it.

"Jesus titty fucking Christ! That's the last size?! what happened to a gradual build up!?" He whimpered, gulping hard.

"heh, Yup, and you're gonna look SO cute trying to adjust to it with my cock down your throat. now assume the position and get ready to bawl." Byakuya chuckled, taking the plug back and lubing it up.

"U-Uh Byakuya.. Let's say I go ahead and concede defeat now..and Promise to still blow you..can..can you give me the numbing med before putting that in?" Ichigo mewed, slowly moving back to face down ass up.

the fear and worry in his voice is what did it, and Byakuya while he wanted to make the brat suffer, was just too damn nice in his old age.

"Finnne. but this better be one HELL of a fucking blow job!" Byakuya grumbled, making it sound like he had all the problems in the world.

"Oh that's one thing that was never in doubt. I'm the best cock sucker there is." Ichigo said with a note of pride in his voice. "Master daddy Has entered me in competitions and everything! I-"

"Blew them all away, to pardon the pun?" Byakuya asked and snorted at his own bad pun.

"Man, and I thought my diapers stunk.."

with the numbing gel applied and a injection to further dull Ichigo's ass (they weren't worried about destroying any bowel control for well, obvious reasons) Byakuya placed a firm had on Ichigo's lower back to help keep his still and then gently pressed the tip of the monster sized anal invader to Ichigo's boi cunt.

"Fast and hard or slow an easy?" Byakuya asked, planning on doing the reverse of what ever the big baby fag wanted.

"ah..ah..fuckkkk~" Ichigo mewed, just the tip was in him and despite the drugs he could feel it and he was starting to leak cock drool despite the cage. "S-Slow and easy please." he moaned, wanting to draw this out and enjoy it.

Byakuya smirked, and like he had planed, went with fast and hard and rammed the plug in all at once, making Ichigo cried out 'GOO GOO GAGA!' as he shot out a load from his caged dicklet then collapsed on the examination bed, eyes glazed over and tongue hanging out.. Little chibi sissy baby Toshiro's dancing around his head from his POV.

"..I think I broke him." Byakuya said with a sweat drop, then shrugged and started to get to work making sure the plug would stay in for the rest of Ichigo's life, with how long one's soul could last in the soul society was going to be a long, long, time.

The process of making it permanent was done in steps that Ichigo likely hadn't of even noticed, the very same lube that had helped the beast slid in had also doubled as a adhesive once some Kido was channeled though it. adding onto that Byakuya was squirting in extra adhesive around the edges after tugging the beast back out a little, then pushed the monster back in and activated his Kido.

With the orange haired faggot locked and plugged for life, Byakuya rolling him over on his back and while Ichigo was still recovering from his orgasm, got him thickly diapered in 6 terrycloth diapers and a pair of plastic pants that Renji had dropped off at the center when he'd made this appointment.

"ah..ah ba what?" Ichigo coo'ed, blinking rapid and sitting up, wiggling his fat diapered bottom.

"welcome back to the land of the living. I was worried I was gonna have to send you home by taxi and drop by for my BJ later." Byakuya said with a sneer.

"ah shit..I did agree to that didn't I?" Ichigo whined.

"Yup yup~ so get down on your knees and make it snappy, I got anther diaper fag to seal in like 10 minutes." Byakuya said and then fished out his 6 inch dong and stroked it a few times.

"heh, If I'm right about you, that's 8 minutes and 40 seconds more then I'll need. You like like a quick shot." Ichigo said, but he was a fag of his word and got on his knees, shuddering softly as the plug shifting and pressed on him.

the feeling made Ichigo let out a soft moan and lean into Byakuya's crotch and then eagerly take the semi impressive member into his mouth.

Of course Ichigo was used to Renji and others thick and longer cocks but considering just how worked up he was still this was just what the doctor ordered and if he shut his eyes and blocked it out, he could pretend it was someone he didn't think was a total fucktard.

"Oh F-Fuck!" Byakuya gasped, ruining the illusion and griping onto Ichigo's head. "Y-Your mouth..it's fucking amazing!" The ex Captain squealed, little stars in his eyes.

'heh, yup, and your never getting anther BJ from me again unless Renji approves it..and he hates you more then I do.' Ichigo chuckled mentally, knowing he was forever ruining head for the fucktard.

using his triple swirl touage lashing move, Ichigo brought Byakuya to a orgasm in under a minute and swallowed the brunettes rather weak load with ease and pulled off.

"Man, don't jerk off so often if your gonna be feeding cock suckers, we prefer a thick and creamy load." Ichigo scolded.

"I...I'll keep that in mind.." Byakuya moaned softly, falling onto his ass, pants still down and his now soft 4 inch cock still leaking out left over jizz as Ichigo got up and smirked.

"Thanks for the snack, and try and get yourself together, you don't wanna be caught like this and end up pampered right?" Ichigo asked and then laughed as Byakuya's cock twitched and shot out a second weak and small load. "Then again.." was all he said and then left.

Feeling super happy with himself even if he was walking a little funny, trying to get used the the plug, Ichigo started to make his way home whistling softly and waving at people.

he was of course well know as Captain Renji's diaper fag slave and as such people should of known that messing with him was a bad idea but even in a well run place like the soul society there was a couple of bad egg's.

Case and point two hoods were currently in a Ally and scanning the crowd looking for a good target to kidnap and ransom.

they were both in blue jeans and dirty beat up stained white top, and had shoulder length black hair and were almost identical save for the fact one had a beard while the other was clean shaven.

"So, what cha think, any good targets?" beard asked.

"Nah, Just a bunch of normal folk..the rich ain't out shopping t'day..Waittt..Hold the phone.." non beard said, and took out a specialized mini scope and focused it on Ichigo, who had stopped and was talking to a street vendor selling fruits. "This one has promise.. according to the scans he belongs to a high ranking captain."

"Wait, Ichigo? man, even I know who he belongs too..you sure you wanna risk getting on the bad side of Renji?"

"he's a well known softy, he always favors paying ransom's and not hurting the kidnappers because it encourages them not to hurt the hostage.All we'll have to worry about is changing diapers." non beard said and handed over the scope to beard.

"Ngggh.. not reading much for a spirit energy..I suppose this cou-" beard was cut off as while he was scanning Ichigo, he turned and looked right at them despite the crowd being in the way and then seemed to vanish.

Suddenly there was a force on the back of both of the would be kidnappers heads and they found themselves on the ground and being kept there by one hand each.

"You know, it's rude to stare AND talk about people behind their backs right?" Ichigo asked, smirking.

"H-How did you?" Beard asked, struggling.

"You didn't have a reading even close to suggesting you can do this!" non beard yelped.

"Oh that.. Master daddy got me a special device that let's me hid my spirit energy so I can take out would be kidnappers like you. Plus it helps me not only be the bestest cock sucking diaper fag slave ever, but a damn good body guard." Ichigo chuckled, Placing a knee on each of their back's after turning around, facing their butts. "Now, I'm not gonna turn you in to the cops because they'll just beat you or worse, but you gotta understand I can't just let you two off without some form of punishment right?"

"W-What are you gonna do to use?" No beard asked, twisting his head and seeing the massive diaper butt closer then he'd like by his head.

"Please don't sit on our heads!" Beard pleaded.

"..Oh I didn't even think of That! I'm just gonna yank your undies up so hard you're gonna be tasting them for a month."

"..That's..better?" No beard said.

"I'm glad you agree, but your consent isn't really a deciding factor here." Ichigo said and then grabbed a waist band in either hand.

the screams that came out of the ally were only matched by the site second later as the two would be kidnappers ran out with the back of their undies over their foreheads.

The rest of the walk home after that was uneventful, though Ichigo had to laugh when he got back home.

Toshiro had apparently let his minor role of power in the absence of Renji or Ichigo go to his head as he was lounging on a sofa and sipping from a glass of ice cold grape juice that was being held by a slave while anther one was fanning him with a big leaf and a third was holding up a book for him and turning the pages for him as he gave the signal.

"Are we having fun?" Ichigo asked, snicking slightly.

the effect was instant with Toshiro sitting up and blushing and looking at the other slave's and glaring.

"I told you baka's to warn me when Ichigo was coming back!" he growled.

"And YOU know better then to lord your position like this. " Ichigo said. "They're not the ones who are in deep doo doo Toshiro, you are."

"I..I am?" Toshiro squeaked, the back of his pretty pink diapers balloon out and drooping as he paled.

"...Nah I'm just fucking with ya. everyone let's it go to their head the first time. Do it again though and I WILL tell Renji. and don't even THINK about trying to punish the others. Now finish up your pooping, then go and help finish mucking out the stables."

"..Yes sir." Toshiro grumbled.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, and while Ichigo was worried when Master wasn't home by dusk,he knew how long these things could take.

Stepping up he made sure al the slaves got their daily baths in and were in clean clothes, and got a belly full of food before sending them to their quarters for the night to just relax and have fun while he waited on Master daddy.

as the hours went by Ichigo got the feeling Renji had been roped into going out to the bar after with the other captain's and knew Renji couldn't turn down the offer without getting more teasing about how he preferred the company of cute boys who crapped their pants over adults, so he didn't fault Renji for going, but he vowed to himself he'd stay up as late as needed to make sure to greet his loving master daddy when he got home.

So naturally he was conked out and asleep on the couch by 10 pm.

Renji yawned as he made his way into his house. it was 1 in the morning and he had to admit, once he'd gotten the others to shut the fuck up about his boi's he'd actually had some fun with them. He hadn't had as much to drink as the others since these days he tended to get hung over rather easy and he hated how scared and worried his slaves got when he was sick.

Making his way into the living room he was greeted by a familiar smell and looked over to see Ichigo asleep on the couch with his thumb in his mouth and a small blanket covering his chest and a shit swelled diaper around his hips.

'Heh, must of tried to stay up for me..Maybe I should of called home.' Renji thought with a smile.

Despite what Ichigo might think, Renji didn't actually mind the smell of a stinky diaper (he'd hardly of filled his mansion with a bunch of diaper pooping fag's if he had) and so he came over and gently scooped up Ichigo in his arms, cradling the little stinker to his chest and headed for the bedroom.

"Ngggh..Hiii daddy.." Ichigo said, half waking up and coo'ing softly.

"Hey stinker. having a good sleep?"

"Uh-huh." Ichigo said and nodded his head.

"well thats good. you can just go back to sleep sweetie. Daddies gonna tuck us into his bed."

"Oh..Otay." Ichigo coo'ed and just snuggled into Renji's chest, closing his cute eyes and drifting back off.

Yeah, being a captain and owning so many slaves could be a head ache at times, but there wasn't one thing about any of this that Renji would ever change.

The end

[everything-withered]

Prompt "Flowers for a dead girl" Ichigo is SOFT, he did this literally since the beginning of the manga

I hope you don't mind an AU take on this!

Rukia knows for a fact that someone is stealing flowers out of her garden. She knew it had to happen some time. Her window opens almost directly into the pavement, and placing anything on the window sill is just asking for it to get stolen.

The grandmother that was staying at the apartment before Rukia had offered that warning lightly, before gifting her with the aforementioned flowers.

"You can't even keep cacti alive," Renji reminded her with a snort to which she'd pinched him and said, "Shut up, there's a first time for everything."

And while the flowers weren't anywhere near as healthy or full as when she'd received them, they were still in bloom! Which made their theft even more upsetting, and didn't get better once she'd realized that it probably wasn't the first time either.

I knew I wasn't imagining the flowers looking a little thin, she thinks both vindictive and resentful as she pets the leaves in apology. Whoever has been taking them plucks them straight from the stem, like a monster.

"I think it would be worse if they'd been clipped," Hisana tells her, "that would imply premeditation."

Rukia scowls. "So I should just be grateful that whoever's been kidnapping my violets is doing it because it's convenient?"

"Well," she trails, "maybe you shouldn't leave your flowers in a place where they can be easily kidnapped."

"That's victim blaming and I will not stand for it." Which is not the reason Rukia doesn't move the flower pots -- her apartment is a closet at most, and the window is the best place to keep plants anyway -- but that doesn't mean she'd refuse to move it out of spite. It's for the continued wellness of her flowers, Hisana, will you please be a good sister and just let me complain??

"Where's your sense of romance, Rukia-chan?"

She scoffs.

"Just picture it," Hisana continues, starry eyed, "a thoughtful lover on their way to be with their beau when they see your flowers and think, what a lovely gift to give their love!"

"I'm sure their love would appreciate it more if they didn't dig it out of someone else's garden," Rukia deadpans.

"It's the thought that counts."

"I think they're cheap."

"Rukia!"

Refusing to move the flowers from its perch, however, doesn't mean Rukia is taking the continued theft of her violets lying down, romantic reasons or not. No, sir. She borrows Renji's Go-Pro and points it at the window for a couple of days.

For awhile, there's no bite, and she gets several hours worth of footage of her window sill: people walking past as they carry on with their day as the violets in their planters giggle in the breeze and stretch in the sunshine before drowsily drooping off to sleep at dusk. It's pretty soothing to watch played back. But Rukia is not convinced. Her thief will be back.

Almost a full two weeks have passed before she's proven right.

The guy in the footage looks like trouble; unfriendly and scowling, Rukia isn't surprised at the appearance of her thief. While she wouldn't have pegged a guy with a leather jacket, too many rings and a leather cuff wrapped around his wrist to steal flowers, Rukia isn't going to judge him for that. Oh, no. She's too busy being incensed that this...this...asshole took way more violets than he did last time!

She has no idea if he's going to show up on the same day as before, but Rukia prepares for it. She sets up camp far enough from the window that she won't be seen, and waits.

Almost to the minute, a shadow lingers, and Rukia is ready! She throws the windows open with a dramatic flourish and shouts, "Gotcha!"

A white butterfly, having been innocently resting on the petals of the flowers, is startled by her sudden presence and almost flies into her face. Fortunately, the guy, to Rukia's satisfaction, recoils anyway, almost to the point of falling over as he yells back in surprise. "What the hell?"

"Caught you red handed, thief," she declares which he promptly doesn't approve of because the orange haired jerk is arguing, "I'm not a thief."

"Oh yeah, then how do you explain taking my flowers?"

At that, he splutters, "Your flowers?"

"Yes, my flowers," Rukia tells him, scowling. "I live here."

"No, you don't," he has the audacity to say. "Akiko-san lives here."

Realising it was the grandmother who'd been letting the apartment before her, Rukia's anger cools. "Not anymore. She moved out. She left me the flowers you keep stealing."

The guy's face goes through an impressive array of emotions before settling on a fine combination of disgruntled and embarrassed. "...ah..."

With a considering look, Rukia says, "I assume if you know the grandmother by name, you must've had an arrangement."

"In not so many words," is his vague reply, and though it should make her suspicious that he's lying for all that he's still blushing to his ears, Rukia decides that it's no real harm done. Just a misunderstanding.

Although, if this guy's been stealing flowers for his girl for as long as it would take to be acquainted to a grandmother he's not related to, he clearly needs help sealing the deal. Nodding to herself determinedly, course of action decided, Rukia tells him, "You can take the flowers."

That startles him, and to her relief he's not nearly as grumpy when he isn't frowning. In fact, now that she's actually looking a him, he's pretty handsome. High cheekbones, defined jaw, full lips, brown eyes. Yeah, this should be easy, she thinks with a huff. "But I'm meeting whoever you're giving them to."

"What."

Hmm, Rukia thinks. Maybe that's why he hasn't gotten a date yet...though, instead of telling him that, she poses, "Do you want the flowers or not?"

Which is how Rukia ends up meeting her thief on the sidewalk five minutes later.

"My name is Ichigo, not thief," he corrects.

"And I'd tell you it was nice to meet you, but one of us shouldn't be a liar," Rukia sniffs, and while this makes him scoff, he's also smirking a little the next time she glances at him.

"Who are you anyway?" he asks, and she thinks, rude.

Though that thought doesn't stop her from replying shortly in kind, "Rukia." Then, just for good measure, "And you could be a little less rude, I don't know how you expect to get a date with that kind of attitude."

He makes a noise of disbelief but flushes all the same.

As they walk, he eventually asks, "Why do you want to meet her anyway? The girl I give your flowers to."

"To make sure she's worth it," Rukia says. "Is she?"

There's no hesitation, "Yes."

She hums, and she could pry into Ichigo's relationship with this mystery girl, but instead she asks, "So you couldn't just buy her flowers?"

And at that he looks embarrassed, though he hides it with the same disgruntlement as before. "I always forget, and your window is on the way there. It was just...convenient."

"Nice," Rukia snorts. "I hope you don't tell her that, nothing makes a girl feel more special than stolen flowers."

After a thoughtful pause, he asks, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Her eyes narrows. "Not originally." Before, "Why?"

At that, Ichigo shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, gaze pointedly at some middle distance. "Because this is probably gonna get uncomfortable."

Rukia's brows are still furrowed in disbelief when she finally realizes where they're headed. "Oh."

Opening the gate, he lets her through first before following after.

He doesn't explain, and she doesn't ask as they walk together through the gardens. Despite his earlier decree, he seems uncomfortable too; shoulders drawn to his ears, frown deepening and eyes going distant.

Rukia almost wants to turn back around, but there's something volatile in his fragility, and she doesn't want to be the thing that shatters it. It isn't until they've come to a stop that he speaks, telling Rukia sardonically, "Well, you wanted to meet her."

And there's a lot of things a normal person could say when faced with a headstone, things like I'm sorry for your loss, and I can't believe I was a jerk to you. Along with other things like why would other people be so aware of the loss of your mom that you had to ask if I was from around here to know of it? and I'm sorry people think of you in relation to whatever tragedy caused your loss.

Except Ichigo looks like he's already preparing to block it out after too many years of too many people being too aware of his grief, "You're not from around here, are you?"

So what Rukia does instead is bow, and say, "Kurosaki-san, I'm sorry your son is cheap."

Ichigo is so surprised by her that he doesn't even think to be offended, instead spluttering in denial. His mask of nonchalance cracked, Rukia continues earnestly to his mother, "If I'd known he was relying on my subpar gardening skills, I'd have tried harder to make sure the flowers he got you were in better shape."

"Shut up, I don't know what you're talking about. Your flowers are fine," he argues.

Then, in a hiss out of respect for Kurosaki Masaki's final resting place, Rukia says, "They're for your mom, Ichigo, oh my god." Aloud, she tells his mother, "I'm so sorry, I know you raised him better. I'll make sure he gets you proper flowers next time."

"You'll make sure of that, huh?"

"If you insist on taking flowers from my window, yes, next time," Rukia tells him with crossed arms and a haughty look. "I can't believe you were stealing flowers for your mom."

"Hey," he defends, "you asked if she was worth it, was I lying?"

She rolls her eyes and persists, "Next time, we're bringing her something better."

"Fine, it's a date."

"Fine," Rukia huffs in return.

It's only after Ichigo's walked her home after a detour to a convenience store to replace her violets, and a reminder that he'll pick her up next week, does Rukia realize what she's agreed to.

To her newly purchased sunflowers, she shakes her head and says, "I can't believe he stole a date right from under me!"

[pinkhairedlily]

Into the Wonderful Unknown

Chapter 11 of The Spring He Came Back | 11 of 12

Momo: I told him don’t go and his response was to hold my hand. What does that even mean?

Rukia: He thought you were cold, didn’t he?

Momo: How come you know this?

Rukia: I have an idiot too, just so you know. (^,^)

“Why are you still up?” A yawning Hitsugaya appeared behind her. Hinamori hurriedly shut off her phone and turned to him.

“Why aren’t you still sleeping?” she asked. She closed the door to the patio and lightly walked towards Baba’s room. The heaters were still broken when she asked her again this morning. She might have to call utilities to do a home visit soon. Weirdly enough, Baba adamantly refused the home service when Hinamori proposed it to her over dinner.

“You weren’t sleeping yet.” His nonchalant behavior was what was confusing her. Her trauma made it hard for her to read actions and connect these with words. She was often taken advantage of in her ignorance in the past, and she knew deep down that Hitsugaya was not that kind of person. But will it do her any good if she wears her heart on her sleeve again?

He mumbled a soft good night as he pulled the blanket over his head, some of the strands still stood out. “Like a broomstick,” Hinamori noted.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you cold again?”

“Not really.” Why? Will you hold my hand?

“Hmm. That’s unfortunate.” He turned his back on her and soon fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning, Hinamori inspected her room again while Hitsugaya helped Baba prepare breakfast and bento lunches. She tried to find the heater but to no avail. Baba might have placed it in the storage in the backyard? Following her hunch, she went to the small detachment at the back of the main house. True enough, she found the heaters from their rooms.

“Okay, let’s do quick repairs before I go to work.” She rolled her sleeves and started to look at each nook and crevice of the device. They were both in pristine conditions. Baba, like all their friends and all her acquaintances, was doing wingman duties. She mulled her next decision for the next few minutes – whether she should be angry at her grandmother for forcing her to be literally closer to Hitsugaya or just go along with it.

Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

Hitsugaya was setting the table when she returned. “Did you check the heaters? Can they still be repaired?” Baba had an apologetic smile on her face, knowing that Hinamori figured out her scheme.

“Ah, they’re really destroyed. I called the repair shop too but unfortunately, they’re backed up for at least a week.” She really lied through her teeth, and Baba chuckled at the progress. Grunting to herself, Hinamori just occupied herself with a bowl of miso soup and hoped Hitsugaya won’t check them himself.

“Ah well, you and Baba will have to put up with me for the remaining days.”

Hinamori heard another thing entirely. He still intended to leave, and she only has two nights left to convince him to stay.

--------------------------

Hinamori visited the café after she closed shop. She was quite fulfilled with herself today – her antidote spray worked on the peonies and gerbera, she found a supplier for dried flowers, the impulsive arrangement she made this morning sold well, and she didn’t think of Hitsugaya the whole day. Well, not until she realized he didn’t come visit her at all today. He also wasn’t in the café, talking with Yuki. So where was he?

“Here’s your brew, Momo.” Yuki handed her drink to her. He might have noticed her curious expression because he asked next, “Are you looking for Dr. Hitsugaya?”

Hinamori shook her head rather strongly that there were neck cracks. “No, not really. He might just be busy today. Not like I minded it.” I apparently minded it enough to wonder.

“Oh, you’re right. He was in a hurry earlier when he ordered an americano to-go. He’s probably tying up loose ends because he’s leaving tomorrow,” Yuki surmised. This information caught Hinamori in surprise. Tomorrow. She thought she had two more nights with him. “That means, it’s his last night in your family house?”

“The town’s rumor mill sure works hard, huh? What are they saying?” There was a slight tremble in her hands.

“Rumors were so bad in his first days. Sleeping in your house instead of a hotel? That was a scandal waiting to happen, and then when people saw that he was still leaving, the rumors died down to you two being sibling-like. Of course, he would sleep in your family house. That was his second home, and you were his second family.” Yuki was looking at her intently, possibly gauging her response. She didn’t know herself – she didn’t know whether she should be offended or saddened. Hitsugaya might have confessed to her when they were teenagers, but ten years have passed. Could it be that this was all she was gonna be to him?

The doors to the café opened, interrupting Yuki and Hinamori’s conversation. Rukia and Renji were holding hands but remained unflustered when they saw their friend.

“Nice timing. I was just about to message you,” Rukia said. “We’re holding a farewell dinner for Urahara’s team.”

“It’s only a small crowd. Us and the three professors. Well, four now because Hitsugaya’s one already,” Renji further supplied. Both of them saw apprehension flickered across Hinamori’s face which soon got covered by a smile. They knew her for far too long that they recognized this was her immediate façade.

It was the academy, after all. There was a long history and probably some bad blood. She wasn’t sure if she was entirely welcome. Then again, this was an opportunity to spend more time with Hitsugaya and talk about his decision. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know about it. He clearly told her he’ll only be here for a week. And it wasn’t as if she bottled up her feelings; she told him “don’t go”, didn’t she? She just wanted to know if this was for good, if he won’t come back again, if there was another life waiting for him on the other side, if she was a thing of his past, or if he just came here for closure. “I’ll freshen up first. Where do I meet you?” Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

--------------------------

Hinamori couldn’t remember the last time she went to a party. Rangiku forced her to join a mixer last year, but no one really interested her. She was far too engrossed in mapping out the business in her head while everyone in their table exchanged information. Then Hitsugaya came, and she was reduced to a blushing mess.

She let her shoulder-length hair down, finally making her strands experience the curling iron. Rangiku’s impromptu and overly enthusiastic make-up sessions proved to be useful despite her and Rukia rarely using cosmetics. She also took out from her closet the olive green blazer and short coordinates which she bought when her revenues finally went beyond breakeven. A comfortable pair of loafers completed the look. Just what was she thinking this would convince him to stay?

--------------------------

“Working girl, Hinamori,” Rukia quipped. This earned her a glaring look from Hinamori. “Are you changing tactics? Is this ~seduction~?” she jokingly whispered. This time, it was Renji who elbowed her.

“I’m pretty sure Hitsugaya will get a neck strain from staring too much at you.” Renji’s assurance served to fuel the fire stronger. Her two friends were so amused.

“Don’t get the wrong idea! I’m not trying to seduce him!” Hinamori fumed. There were still a few minutes to spare; she could go home and change into her more normal clothes.

“Hinamori! You look good!” Rangiku’s voice rang through the alley. She wore a strawberry midi dress in blocked heels, and her long curls were made up in a loose bun. It wasn’t hard to see the source of her flushed happiness as she was walking with a silver-haired guy who they presumed to be Ichimaru Gin.

Thank God Rangiku dressed up, Hinamori thought. However, she was still wary with how she looked. She immediately turned on her heels to make her way back to the house despite the rising protests from the 3Rs, but she hit someone soon enough. She got a sudden cramp in her foot and almost fell on her back but strong arms steadied her shoulders.

“Momo, are you okay?” It was Hitsugaya. Just her luck.

“Hello, Hinamori.” The professors beside him greeted in unison. Unohana, Byakuya, and Urahara waved hello, dispelling any negative scenarios Hinamori made up in her mind. Suddenly conscious of Hitsugaya’s arms on her shoulders, she moved away from him and bowed to the other professors in greeting.

“Barbecue, barbecue, barbecue,” Urahara led the small group into the restaurant. Hinamori failed to see Hitsugaya’s reaction as she quickly moved towards the safety of her friends’ exchanges and out of his sphere. So much for wearing her heart on her sleeve.

It was so typical of the academy regulars to reserve the whole restaurant for a small dinner. A long table was laid out in the center of the room, and lots of meat were ordered. Bottles of wine and beer were also prepared.

Maybe drinks will give me courage. Dejected, she sat beside Rukia and Renji and across the lovey-dovey Rangiku and Gin. While the former couple was subtle in their affections (because Byakuya was in the room), the latter was nonstop flirting. Never in her life has Hinamori felt so single. At the other end of the table was Hitsugaya and his mentors, debating over something else. Unohana, now the head of the academic board, claimed the seat beside her.

The dinner started out smoothly, and Hinamori enjoyed grilling meat for everyone, particularly for Unohana who apparently wanted a certain cooked appearance. She also got to relax for a bit since Ichimaru Gin took the hot seat.

“It’s your time to eat, Hinamori,” Unohana gently stopped her arm from cooking another batch of pork belly and urged her to sit down.

Taking a bite of a grilled asparagus, Hinamori’s eyes strayed to Hitsugaya’s seat at the other end of the table. He was downing a bottle of beer which he almost choked on when Urahara said something funny. She quickly peeled her gaze away when he noticed her staring. Her seatmate chuckled at the silent exchange.

“It’s a wonderful thing. I’m sure you knew the things Hitsugaya did for you,” she said. The professor placed a few strips of bulgogi beef on the grill. “He really hunted down all the affiliates of Aizen in five years, presented all evidence in the international teaching board and revoked Aizen’s and his accomplices’ teaching licenses. They also got blacklisted in the research field. The items you mailed to the academy – they were also part of that repository.”

The things Hitsugaya did for you.

He really looks out for you.

Even from afar, he was protecting her. “It took me quite long though.” There was a tinge of regret in her voice which Unohana picked up.

“At least you arrived where you wanted to be.” The professor took a sip of her tea. “Although, isn’t it time for you to go back and study in the academy?”

Hinamori’s eyes lit up at the possibility. Yes, she was contented with self-studying, but a focused curriculum would greatly improve her skills. “Wouldn’t there be a conflict of interest based on my past record?”

“I believe that record was already expunged. You didn’t have any knowledge of his operations, after all.” Unohana took from the grill the burnt strips of bulgogi beef. She smiled at Hinamori and ate them in one mouthful. “The academy isn’t the academy you knew before. There are no more Soul members and no networking involved. Just regular admissions and equal access to resources.”

Hinamori sighed. She briefly forgot about her business. “I’m not sure if I can. I have a flower shop.”

“And we have night classes for working students, parents, breadwinners, you name it. The academy tries its best to accommodate everyone and be flexible if need be. We also heard what you were doing in the flower farms. It’s a talent difficult to miss, Hinamori.”

“Am I not too old to pursue a bachelor’s degree?”

“Is there an age limit in the pursuit of knowledge?”

“Five already,” Gin said aloud. Rangiku laughed when Unohana and Hinamori finally steered their attention to them.

“I’m telling you it’s six.” Renji almost slammed his beer mug on the table. He might love drinking, but his tolerance was so high. Rukia, though, was another matter.

“What are they counting?” Hinamori asked Rangiku who was rather tipsy at this point.

“The number of times he looked at you.” Rangiku pushed six shot glasses to Hinamori. “Drink them all, baby.”

I didn’t even notice. Again, a blushing mess when it came to him.

“You just wasted your night cooking for us. You need a break.” Gin supported his girlfriend. “Drink your share, Hinamori.”

Slightly affected by the new opportunities coming her way and the enthusiasm of her friends, she downed three shot glasses in full. She cupped her fourth when her eyes strayed to where he was seated. She was supposed to make use of this time to talk to him, but he seemed intent to put some distance between them. In that moment, his eyes flitted to where she was. If it was possible to swallow the shot glass, she would have.

“This is so entertaining,” Unohana quipped.

“I don’t have any patience for this stealing-glances-game,” the intoxicated Rukia said. “You, Momo, are to confess tonight!”

“Ooooh I heard confession!” Urahara yelled from across the table. He stood enthusiastically and went over to Hitsugaya’s side. “I’ve got a story to tell!”

“Shut up, Kisuke.” Byakuya tried to pull him away from his mentee.

“What story?” Hitsugaya asked. He also finished his bottle in one long drink. Finally remembering what story it was, he reddened in embarrassment. “Urahara no!”

“That time when someone confessed to you in the middle of an open forum!” Urahara let them in on the secret. “The girl started with, Dr. Hitsugaya, your presentation was very nice and it answered big knowledge gaps in the field of Physics. Now I was wondering if you would fill in the gap in my life. It was so hilarious. The auditorium broke out in cheers.”

Laughter erupted around the table and more so when Hitsugaya just continued pouring himself a drink.

“We had to screen attendees at that point onwards because she might ask the same question again.” Byakuya also found the memory funny. “You maintained contact with her, right?”

“What is it to you?” Hitsugaya pouted in his defense. The laughter shifted into yells and whistles. This light atmosphere turned quite heavy for Hinamori.

So there really was someone else.

His phone rang amid the cheers, and he excused himself from the table. Hinamori’s heart sank further. The decision was made; she should just go home. “I need some air.”

When Hinamori was out of earshot, the people around the table sighed collectively.

“I can’t believe I’ll say this, but we have two idiots in company,” Unohana said, breaking the silence.

“After Rukia and Renji, of course,” Byakuya added, teasing the two lovebirds at the other end.

“Let’s hope those idiots realize it soonest huh?” Urahara went back to his seat and opened a new bottle of wine.

“It’s literally your fault.” Byakuya and Unohana were both clearly exasperated.

--------------------------

“I should say goodbye,” Hinamori muttered to herself. She saw Hitsugaya walked to the alley beside the restaurant. She tried to follow him, but a group of local drunks blocked her way. She sidestepped, but they also matched her move. She was feeling a little light on her feet. It was a bad call to finish the shot glasses Rangiku gave her.

“Hey cutie, where are you going?”

“Are you striding towards my pants? I mean, my heart?”

“Hey fuck off, I saw her first. Finders keepers.” Someone’s hand grabbed her wrist, pain shooting throughout her body.

Fingers wrapped around that someone’s arm, the grip was so tight one could see veins popping on his hand. “Don’t fucking touch her.” Silver hair in her periphery. An air of intimidation. Eyes like icy daggers. The strong arms holding her steady. “Stop hitting on my girlfriend.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have let her out of your sight? Fuck off dude.”

Hinamori was trembling more because of anger and less because of fear. Alcohol was truly a source of courage. “Why don’t you fuck off yourself?” She kicked the one in front in the balls, and elbowed the one grabbing her wrist. It happened so fast that Hitsugaya forgot he was holding someone hostage.

The local drunks scurried away, leaving the two unharmed. Hitsugaya pulled Hinamori gently into the abandoned alley, usually reserved for dumpster area, the dark acting as refuge for their recent encounter. She was still trembling, her hands cold and sweaty. Hitsugaya hesitated to come close within her personal space. A few minutes passed and she reached out for his hand, her pinky barely holding on to his other pinky.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Hitsugaya asked. “I drank so much I’m not sure I could fight them all off. So I thought the boyfriend card would be enough.” He hovered his fingers above hers in a quiet question of consent. She closed the space within their hands, their fingers finally intertwining, the cold dissipating in the warmth of his skin. “You were so badass there.”

“Thank you,” Hinamori chuckled. “But I guess you shouldn’t be holding hands with me when you have a girlfriend abroad.” But her fingers stayed where they were.

“What girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend, Momo.” HItsugaya protested. He faced her this time, the closeness of him backing Hinamori against the wall. “Urahara was spouting nonsense earlier. I rejected her. I don’t have any form of contact with her.”

“Why are you so adamant in proving it?”

“Then why did you rile me up with it?”

Hinamori couldn’t answer. Maybe she should have drunk two more shots.

“Are you okay?” Hitsugaya was clearly worried. He was red on the face, but Hinamori didn’t know if it was because of the drinks or because it was cold outside.

“Why should it be a pretense?” she asked, letting go of his hand. She turned her gaze away from his striking eyes.

“What? Momo, look at me.” He cupped her face, securing any form of escape. “Are you drunk? Because I’m kinda tipsy too. Byakuya made me finish one bottle of wine and some bottles of beer. I think my stomach is riding a pirate ship. So what pretense?”

“I like you.” Her stomach was a pirate ship suspended at the highest point, a roller coaster stuck upside down, and a basket at the peak of a ferris wheel.

“I know what you mean. You said it before already.” Her words were not getting through to him.

“I like you, Shirou. I meant it back then when I said I liked you too.”

“Of course, you like me as a friend.”

“How can I prove it to you, you broomstick idiot?” She felt like crying. What was running through his mind? How can she get her feelings across in actions if words were not enough?

Ah, there was one thing she could do, and she had the advantage. Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

Hinamori’s hands strayed to his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Her stomach lurched into a journey, the wide deep swing that came after the high, and then an expanse of space. This was probably why they associated butterflies with it. It seemed as if she was fluttering herself, her heels flying on to space, and the only thing grounding her was his hands on her face and his soft lips on hers.

Thank you, courage. She pulled back, content with her declaration, no matter the result.

“You look so beautiful tonight, Momo.” Hitsugaya spoke as if someone took his breath away momentarily, but his hands were still cupping her face. “Didn’t know you were so fashion-forward.”

“I’m glad you think so. It’s my alternate persona.” She joked back. She gathered what was remaining of her courage and truly looked at him.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. You can be angry at me tomorrow.” He pulled her face closer and kissed her again, full on the mouth, a little longer, and a little deeper. Over and over again, they would pull each other in with small rests for breathing, like how the world was rushing to bloom again in spring.

NEXT CHAPTER | 12 OF 12 | ENDLESS SEASONS WITH YOU

[princeoftennispillows]

The stuff you have been posting so far has been so great !! I was wondering if I could request headcanons for the team teasing Sanada (mayb tezuka too if you’re down ??) since his S/O fell asleep on his shoulder during lunch or smth. Thanks in advanced if you write this request and keep up the good work !! I’ll definitely be requesting more in the future 😎

Hi there! Thank you for reading so far aaaaa still cant wrap around my head that some people are willing to read my hcs

This ones a bit long? I don’t know cause its in point form but I hope you enjoy this <3 its just chaotic here ✨✨✨

Tags: Fluff!

Sanada Genichirou x Reader

You would always call Sanada, but since he went into the U-17 camp, you couldn’t call as often

Usually you’d call while you’re doing your homework or when you were preparing your meals for the next day, it was nicer that way, you felt like he was there with you while you’re getting things done

You called him that night and asked how he was doing over there

“Well, lots of things happened, but tarundoru!” 

He’d say his usual line which always made you chuckle at how ridiculous he’d sound sometimes, but you loved him for that

“But well, we seem to be getting a day off tomorrow, seems like some people are getting visits too,”

You were happy to hear that, you really were, but you made sure to reconfirm back with him to ensure that you heard him right

“I’m coming over tomorrow!’ your tone became a pitch higher “I’ll bring some lunch for us, maybe enough for your teammates too! Is there anything you’d wish to be included? I’ll make sure to pack em up nicely for you, Genichirou,” you beamed excitedly.

Sanada loved your cooking, and he missed it too, especially any meat dishes you did, they really just felt homey.

Sanada coughed, trying to not sound too happy but he really was looking forward to your visit

“Be careful on your way here tomorrow, try not to stay up too late. I gotta go now, pretty tired from practice today,” he paused “I um, l-love you, (y/n), hoping to see you tomorrow, good night,” he said before ending the call

“Genichirou wait- ah, there he goes again, ending the call without letting me say good night,” you’d sigh, but you smiled so widely cause he actually said he loves you, directly, that’s pretty rare! 

You finished prepping the lunch boxes pretty late but well, it was worth it! You went to bed straight after

By the time you arrived at the U-17 camp the next day, it was already noon, just in time for lunch

Sanada made sure you updated him your whereabouts and all; it felt like he was your parent

‘Genichirou, I’m here already’ you texted him and got an immediate reply ‘Ok, be there in 5,’ and you thought it was 5 mins but he came there in 5 seconds

He was panting, and you could tell that if he took off his cap, his hair is disheveled

“Sorry, must’ve kept you waiting,” and you smiled to him, holding back a laugh “You literally came in 5 seconds Genichirou! I have to apologise for making you wait. Come, lets go now,”

You gave him a small peck on his cheek to which, he blushed, so he shifted his cap to hide it

You laid out the lunch boxes you prepped just enough (maybe) for the Rikkai boys. Honestly if you could, you would’ve probably brought much more, enough to feed the whole middle schoolers. But that requires more time and energy, and neither, did you have

“Good lord, senpai! This is so good!” Akaya beamed at you as he chowed down

“Guess our vice here is reaaaally lucky huh?” Niou said as he nudged Sanada, who, has been very quiet the whole time

The rest of the team laughed at Niou’s remark, they could’ve teased him more but well, they had to behave here (not that they did anyway)

“But I bet it’s not as good as what you guys have here— i mean look at those,” you said gesturing to the meals they served in camp

“The cookings here don’t feel like home as much as yours do, yknow,” Sanada spoke, making brief eye contact with you before focusing on finishing his food

That made his teammates coo at him btw and he turned really really red

“Tarundoru!” he’d say yet again, embarrassedly this time, it was well, very cute

You smiled happily, it was really enough to give you assurance about the food you brought. It felt warm inside seeing people enjoying it

“Thanks your the meal, (y/n)-chan,” everyone thanked you happily. They sounded really genuine about it too!

“Well now, I think its time for us to continue on with our practice? We shouldn’t let our performance die down just because we get some time off. Well now everyone, lets get moving; except for, well, Genichirou of course,” Yukimura said as he smiled softly at you and nodded his head to Sanada

“But- buchou!” Akaya couldn’t finish what he had to say before getting pushed by both Jackal and Marui as they left the cafe

You chuckled at how lovable they are, you really had the best time with them

Sanada softly grabbed your wrist so you’d turn facing him “Want me to show you around?” of course, you nodded and showed him a grin

You guys talked for such a long time, it was rlly nice; you didn’t even realised you finished touring the whole camp. By the time you did though, you grew tired. Sanada had to seat you on a bench nearby the courts

Eventually you drifted off, you were leaning against him, head on his shoulder and fingers intertwined with his. Sanada looked at you longingly and had a little smile on his face. He took off his cap and put it on your head so you’d get more shade

“Well, if it isn’t Genichirou, isn’t it a coincidence?” Yukimura. That was Yukimura’s voice. “I think I miscalculated a bit, I didn’t expect to see the both of you here at all,” and that was Renji

The 2/3 or the monsters from rikkai just smiled at him, knowing that he couldn’t do anything, atleast, not while you were asleep. Sanada just let out a soft groan of annoyance. Just the two of them isn’t that bad

Unluckily for him though, turns out that the whole team was there

“Pio,” Niou said as he snapped a pic on his phone; making a mental note to send it to you later on

Marui and Akaya. Boy were they getting on his nerves, but not enough, yet, to make him go shEEEEEHHH

That’s thanks to Yagyuu and Jackal for preventing them from going any further btw, it surely can’t get any worse

But Sanada was wrong. And he finally lost it

Tezuka Kunimitsu. He witnessed it

Tezuka didn’t do anything though, he just well, looked and looked away right after, as he was passing by

He really do be saying ‘I pretend I do not see but in reality I do’

“SHEEEEEEEHHHH” Sanada went, which of course woke you up

But you just groggily looked at him and fell asleep again, nuzzling closer to him

The rikkai boys wondered, how in the world did you fall asleep again from that

[exo-raskreia]

Renji’s Cowardice

So this is something I've been wanting to talk a bit about, even though I've commented on it to other fellow fans, but decided maybe I should make a post about it. This got longer than expected, so long post ahead:

I'm one of those few people who don't believe Renji had feelings for Rukia, or if at all, they were so subtle, they were barely there - ‘cause they can easily be interpreted as that of friendship or siblings.

We know he certainly cared about her, they were childhood friends, helping each other through hard times, the ONLY survivors from their friend group in the Rukongai, & the only ones out of them who had reiatsu. So, obviously, they had a tight bond.

But...there was nothing more. That scene in the anime (ep. 32) where Renji stares at Rukia in the lake during his childhood memories? Filler - like most of the episode. It wasn't in the manga. Check out chapter 98 (which also has a lot of the scenes I will mention here).

When I first watched that, I thought maybe he liked her (so then why did he hurt her?), but as I got further into the anime, no such scene ever happened again, nothing else that indicated he might like her. Then eventually I read the manga, & bam! - obviously there'd been nothing else, since the scene hadn't been there to begin with.

So if you believe Renji was deeply in love with Rukia... Well, that’s not what I saw in the following scenes.

Let’s start off with a little scene in his childhood, where Rukia showcased her reiatsu abilities. Their friends found it so cool, whereas Renji seemed...bothered by it:

And down here, where he shouts at the guys, one could interpret him being a bit jealous that they’re captivated by Rukia, but it can also be interpreted as him being a bit jealous of Rukia, like, “Meh, she ain’t all that!” 

Even so, they all became so close, like a family

Years later, once in the academy, Rukia was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan. Renji encountered Byakuya for the first time & felt an immense fear. Any confidence he’d had up until that point (such as being in an advanced class) faded. 

When Rukia tried to discuss with him if she should accept it, because DUH, they only had each other at this point & were basically family, but of course Renji let his insecurities get the better of him, & basically told her how lucky she was & to go for it, without showing concern or worry. Thus, beginning the end of their friendship.

Renji’s excuse for letting her go was that he didn’t want to get in the way of her happiness... Was it? Not something else like, I don’t know, feeling insecure, possibly inferior, afraid when he had encountered her adoptive brother for the first time? Ah, that's it...cowardice? It's as if he was even trying to convince himself otherwise:

Yep, sounds like it, Renji. Always hiding your fear, masking it with ego, or in this case, thinking you’re “happy” for her.

He didn’t want to admit what he had been feeling in that moment. He didn’t let her go out of the goodness of his heart...but because he didn’t have the guts to stop her. He didn’t have the guts to go against Byakuya for her sake. Or more like...for his own sake.

You could say he didn’t feel “worthy enough” being her friend, now that Rukia was part of a prestigious clan... Or simply...too scared. He made it his goal to surpass Byakuya, & once he did, then he would feel "worthy" or strong enough to talk to Rukia again.

Just...why? Did he not see that it wasn’t what Rukia wanted? It’s not like she would have looked down on him or anyone else for that matter. He didn’t understand her like a certain someone. Actually, doesn’t it sort of parallel the scene in which that certain someone was telling her to go back home with him, & she told him she’d stay in SS, & he actually saw she was happy about it & let her go because of it? She wanted to stick together like family, but he pushed her away. For the next 40 years, he never attempted to talk to her, make sure she was doing well, wasn't there for her, nothing.

But he hadn’t realized the true reason for his actions...yet.

Cowardly Renji was then going to tell Rukia about his promotion to lieutenant after he was encouraged by his friends (ch. 205.2/Side-B ‘The Rotator’), but then he was sent to arrest her in Karakura Town. Instead of trying to make up or let her know he didn’t want to do this, he certainly acted pretty villainous towards her, & did NOTHING to try to stop her from getting executed, not even trying to vouch for her to her brother (I mean, if someone as freakishly strong as his captain wasn’t going to do a thing, then why should Renji The Coward™, amirite?). Some "tight bond”... 

Is this how a man shows he loves a woman?! Is this the kind of man you want for strong, kind, selfless Rukia?!

When Renji decided to visit Rukia in her cell to tell her about a certain orange-haired guy being in SS, he hadn’t expected her to react the way she did:

(Renji then thought that maybe he shouldn’t have given her hope, because the rescue gang might not make it. So even in her final moments, he still wasn’t going to try anything? Instead, regretted giving her some comfort? Oh, boy...)

After hearing about said orange-haired guy defeating strong opponents on his way to save Rukia, his bruised ego sent him to go pick a fight with him against orders.

He went as far as to blame that one person for Rukia’s demise. Like, what the heck? He wanted to break his resolve, because Renji himself had none.

But obviously...things weren’t going the way he’d planned. Ichigo, the man who would stop at nothing to save Rukia, was underestimated. Heck, Renji even got triggered when Ichigo shouted this & blocked his attack:

U mad, bruh?

Eventually, Alpha™ Ichigo defeated him, & made him realize his faults. Cue Flashback no Jutsu & then we got Renji saying this:

Ooh, boy, this is right after the panel where he was trying to convince himself that he let Rukia go for her happiness (ch. 98).

Let’s start off with the first part: "Now that I think about it... I was probably just scared...”

So this does confirm that Renji had been lying to himself, & that his real reason was that he was afraid to confront a stronger opponent for his friend. Afraid to do something about the situation. He was a coward through & through.

Then he continues with this: “I am really a tramp down to my bones. I hate myself. I bark at the star, but...I don't have the courage to jump and grab it."

Is this another way of him saying Rukia is the star & he's the tramp? So basically, he felt inferior to her? A lowly creature who’s all bark & no bite?

Let’s see... You could say that since childhood, Renji had always felt a bit jealous of Rukia, or simply admired her, cuz she had higher reiatsu, their old friends looked up to her more & she became their leader of sorts. And then when she was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan, she was “farther away". 

He made it his goal to surpass Byakuya...because it would mean he had finally “reached” Rukia? You could almost see this as romantic, feel bad for him cuz he doesn’t feel worthy of her, even though he’s tried so hard (fake ‘aww’). But it’s still not enough. Up until this point, Renji hadn’t done anything to help her. Like I said before, he even tried to obstruct the one person who was trying to save her, & tried to blame him for her eventual demise.

Just how insecure were you, Renji? Of the fact that someone else, who hadn’t known her as long, was risking his life to save the one girl you weren’t brave enough to help? That someone else would reach the star, & not you? That someone else proved himself Top Dog™ & you’re still the tramp?

Well, Rukia is more referred to as the moon, while Ichigo as the sun (White Moon, Black Sun). So to Renji, she's a star, but in regards to Ichigo, she's the moon. An unreachable star to one, & the moon to the other... Interesting...

In some translations, he says "stars" in plural, so if that, does it mean Renji is calling himself a coward in general, who doesn't have the courage to stand up to those stronger than him? And/or to get what he wants? In others, he says "moon", & Rukia has been referred to as the moon, so it still applies.

After this, he BEGGED Ichigo to save Rukia, because he himself couldn't. Once again, he felt unworthy. And this time, he had good reason to, because the man Rukia wanted to see wasn't even him, & he knew this. Like I said, he hadn’t expected her to look so happy when he’d informed her that Ichigo was in town.

Renji had a change of heart. He later helped Ichigo in what he could, having formed the resolve to work harder after recovering from the fight against him. After this, we saw him become friends with Ichigo, having his acknowledgement, his respect, his trust. Never once do we see Renji feeling jealous towards Ichigo regarding Rukia (nor anyone else for that matter). Not like Orihime being jealous of Rukia. Renji supported Ichigo in everything, & both considered each other one of their closest comrades.

Remember the scene in Hueco Mundo (ch. 248) where Ichigo didn't want the group to separate in Las Noches after Rukia suggested it, then Renji got in the way & told him it was an insult to her as a warrior? He knew this wasn't about the group, it was about Rukia (dang, was Ichigo that obvious?). Ichigo didn't say that because he didn't trust in her abilities...it's his general care & worry about her. He has to have Rukia in his sight at all times. She obviously means a lot more to him than he realizes (and more than his other friends). Renji doesn't see Rukia the same way Ichigo does...hence why he wasn't concerned like Ichigo. This already shows the difference in their feelings for Rukia.

(Poor Ichigo must’ve later regretted this when he didn’t feel Rukia’s reiatsu anymore & Ulquiorra had said she’d “died”, then Ichigo turned around to go to her, without giving a second thought to Orihime’s whereabouts and-)

Heck, even in the Fade To Black movie, everyone had forgotten about Rukia, including Renji...except Ichigo. He was the only one who fought tooth & nail to get her back. Renji was one of the last people in the movie to remember her, some "bond". Well, she already established a stronger bond with Ichigo, so Renji lost his status as the man closest to Rukia long ago.

Then in the WDKALY fanfiction novel, in the sketch of Renji at the wedding, he doesn't seem very happy? And in the one with him & Rukia announcing their engagement, their Soul Reaper friends seem so shocked, as if they would have never seen this coming? If it was obvious they “loved” each other, why even their closest friends didn't see it? Seems sketchy, doesn't it?

To add to this, as someone had pointed out before, just look at Renji’s expression here while Rukia is injured:

Seems like the typical battle-hardened look someone would have over their injured comrades.

Meanwhile, look at Ichigo, leaning forward anxiously...& then we get a wonderful closeup of his face

So, all in all, what I'm trying to say is that there was never really a critical moment in which made me go, "Wow, Renji really does love Rukia." His feelings just weren’t really...there? Or not noticeable romantically, not like Ishida’s for Orihime - now THESE I can believe. He felt like a coward in general, that not even his childhood friend's life being in danger, had been enough to get him to act. It took someone else, someone much braver than him, to give him the push that he needed to move forward. And that person is the one he came to respect & support, never showing jealousy. He even thanked Ichigo (ch. 682) for restoring his friendship with Rukia, & said he'll always have his back. Some "rival", huh?

(Thinking about it, since we never got to see more of Renji's insecurities again after the SS arc - I think - & had his friendship restored, does this mean surpassing Byakuya wasn't his goal anymore? Did he ever mention it again?)

Kubo really wasn't playing when it came to who cared more about Rukia out of these two (or more like, the differences in how they cared about her). Too bad this all went out the window.

[hajike]

hitsuhina: Forecast

For: alexiethymia for the hitsuhina gift exchange! Feel free to check it out on AO3 too :) 

Words: 2.3k

Notes: Set post-manga ending and based off your lovely headcanon -

-Renji, once when he was really drunk, consolingly put his hand on Hitsugaya’s shoulder as if to say he understood. Hitsugaya’s ensuing glare could freeze his soul and he then realized that it was only because he was Hinamori’s friend that he wasn’t cut down on the spot.

Whatever had happened on the trip to and back from the 6th Division’s Senkaimon had apparently completely rattled Renji’s brain. Somewhere along the way to return Ichigo and his friends to the Human world after the wedding reception, Renji had taken whatever speck of common sense he had and promptly tossed it out with the last pathetic remnants of his self preservation.

Or maybe, Toshiro reasoned, they had gotten attacked by some remaining Quincy. Or Arrancar. Or even bloody Captain Mayuri looking to test out his new toys on some unsuspecting idiots idiots. Hell, maybe this wasn’t even Renji, maybe this was some Reigi clone, because the real Renji would know better than to—

“—keep holding strong, Captain Hitsugaya! The bond between you two is strong, stronger after everything, just like ours! Happiness is still in reach!”

Toshiro eyed the arm firmly draped over his shoulder with no small measure of disgust. Renji appeared oblivious to it. The vice captain’s other hand was frantically wiping the horrid mix of tears and snot streaming from his face as he kept choking out, “I know, Captain Hitsugaya, that if you persevere! If you persevere, you too will be in my position one day, joined together with your childhood—“

The small bit of reiatsu that leaked out of him was enough to freeze the sake cups before them solid. As well as a good portion of the mess on Renji’s face, along with part of his hakama sleeve. “Ah! My nose! What—“

Renji lifted his slightly frostbitten head to meet Toshiro's stare and froze. What little of a drunken flush he had left quickly bled into a look of deep regret. Ah, the poor man had sobered up some. Enough, at least, to realize that it was only the smallest of margins that kept him still able to use his extremities, margins that included the fact he was a vice-captain of the Gotei 13, that he had imbibed enough sake to not be completely in control of his motor functions, as well as the most important—

“Oh, Renji! Congratulations again!” Momo’s voice echoed through the bar, even through the din of Rangiku appearing to be challenging Captain Kensei to another drinking game in an effort to keep him from dragging away his already unconscious lieutenants away. Pour souls.

Toshiro forced himself to pay some attention to the ensuing scuffle, even as his childhood friend smiled across the table, her face beaming with a drunken flush and pure joy. Joy currently directed at the man putting careful distance between him, rubbing at the icicles that still clung to his nose.

Renji’s face was lit up in relief at her arrival. “Momo! Just in time!”

Toshiro shot him a sharp look just as Momo blinked. “Eh?”

Renji darted looks between the both of them - Toshiro’s face blackened with impending doom and Momo’s slight confused smile, one of her hands brushing back a small strand of hair that had fallen from her intricate bun. The newlywed's mouth opened and closed, once, twice, and just as Toshiro was rather sure the man was about to stick his foot in it—

Rukia slid in neatly beside him at the head of the table, her arm linking with his. Her face was a mask of polite geniality of the Kuchiki variety. “Ah, my apologies Captain Hitsugaya and Vice Captain Hinamori! I’m sure what my husband meant to say was, how glad he was that the two of you could make it to our reception! And with everything seeming to wrap up, you’re both just in time to give last congratulations.”

It was a shoddy deception but effective, Toshiro had to admit. Momo’s face immediately brightened at seeing the now married pair. Renji was staring at his wife like she was Bodhisattva come again. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t a far cry from how he typically looked at her so there was every chance he had already forgotten the precarious position his loose lips had put him in.

“Rukia! Rukia, we’re married! In the marriage registry! Together!”

Definitely. He’d definitely forgotten. And gotten sidetracked enough that he was gushing about his wife again, same as when he’d first sat down next to Toshiro. Although now she had appropriately substituted in as his arm rest, thank the frozen heavens. Rukia’s answering smile as she leaned into his shoulder was full of amusement and a near overflowing affection. “Yea, Renji. I was there.”

Toshiro couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Renji’s answering cheer, knowing it was only the fact he’d frozen the sake in his cup that it didn’t spill all over the inebriated man and his now wife. Although Rukia probably wouldn’t have minded much, not with the lovestruck look on her face from her husband’s excitement.

The soft moment was interrupted by a sudden hiccup, following by the sound of high pitched sob. Ah, Toshiro noted with a wry smile, crybaby Momo strikes again.

“Rukia, Renji…I’m so happy you’re together!” She was looking at the linked pair of Vice Captains with tears streaming down her cheeks, frantically wiping at an eye with the corner of her kimono. “So..hic…happy!”

Toshiro frowned. Ah, she was gonna mess up the sleeve. Rangiku had gushed about the kimono to him earlier, calling her one of her best selections apart from her own peony patterned one, selections that had taken a good half a day longer than the time off she’d gotten approved for. He’d complained as much as expected, but it hadn’t been that much of a chore taking over the paperwork. Not when they’d both returned flush faced and grinning over the spoils of their fabric battle, sharing excited giggles and promises to visit that draper’s again. And besides, paperwork actually got done faster without Rangiku there to stuff the longer forms in the back of her cabinet.

Momo’s own kimono pattern was dotted with peach blossoms and was a soft blue that left the whiteish pink petals as a striking contrast. A far cry from the dull brown she’d used to favor in their youth. Then again, it had been some time since he’d even seen her with a new kimono. Or new anything.

Resolving to give Rangiku some leeway the next time she insisted on rushing off for another girl’s shopping spree in the human realm, Toshiro jumped in, “Stupid Momo. Aren’t you the one who told them they had to have a wedding ceremony? Now you’re going to spend the entire time crying?”

She sniffed in response. “I can’t help it! It’s so wonderful! After everything, it feels like my heart is boiling over in excitement!”

“Eh? You sure it ain’t just the entire bottle of fruit sake you finished on your own?”

“Shiro! I did not!

He shrugged, leaning on an elbow. “Right, right. Your zanpaktou must have just evaporated it, huh?”

Momo puffed out her cheeks, ready to snap back just like her sword’s release, only for a crash from the other end of the bar to take their attention. For heaven’s sake. Toshiro groaned. He took his eyes off Vice Captain for five seconds and this.

Apparently Captain Kensei was not at all as straight laced as he had been led to believe. Or maybe he still didn’t understand exactly why it was that no one ever accepted a drinking battle with the Vice Captain Matsumoto. Toshiro had seen members of the eleventh division clear a path for her the day after one particular competition, one where he’d heard on good sources that both Madarame and Yumichika had needed to be sent to the fourth after. Commander Kyōraku was one of the few that could keep up with her, although with his new duties he hadn’t had much time…which might explain why Rangiku was currently trying to induct Kensei into her drunken circle.

“Ha! You’re just on three? I’m on four, Captain of the Ninth, four! Four whole bottles of sake!”

Mashiro had woken up from her slumber, although not necessary her stupor, to cheer her captain on. “Waa, Kensei! You’re losing, you’re really losing! Your super lieutenant is so disappointed!”

Hisagi slurred next to her, “Your super-duper lieutenant is still here for you, Captain!”

Red faced and swaying a little, Rangiku still shot him a look, “Ah, Shuuhei, you’re really rooting against me? I’m hurt! Our drinking relationship means nothing to you, huh?”

“Oi, don’t try and turn my vice captain against me,” Kensei growled, eyes narrowed and barely supporting himself on the table with a hand. “Loyalty is everything in the ninth! Right, Hisagi!”

“Ah, no, I mean,” Hisagi waved his hands around, “As your vice captain I’m rooting for you, Captain! By as a friend I’m also rooting for Rangiku! Not that I don’t see Captain as a friend, I—“

“Wait, how many bottles?” Rukia leapt from her seat, yelling out, "Idiots, we’re covering this one, you’re gonna use up all our gift money!”

Renji, who had apparently been relying on his wife to sit up straight, cursed as he started to slip sideways. Toshiro watched with amusement as Momo struggled to catch him before he broke his head open on the table. He kicked away the leg of an already passed out Kira before she tripped on it, ignoring the way the man drunkenly groaned and rolled over, cuddling a sake bottle to his chest.

Rangiku was absolutely unashamed facing the new bride. “Ah, ah, already tight with the purse! Just ask your brother, I’m such Captain Kuchiki would love to assist his lovely little sister!”

“Like hell I’m asking my older brother to cover you drunkards! I’m taking this out of the seventh and tenth division budgets, don’t think I won’t!” Rukia shot back.

Rangiku puffed up, pumping a fist holding a sake cup in the air. “Too bad! Captain already cut my expenses off from the division! Besides, I have! No money! Hah!”

“Wow,” Mashiro said, eyes wide and nursing another sake bottle. “You say that so proudly, Rangiku! Amazing!”

Kensei looked at them with a stricken face. “Wait…am I on the hook for this? Dammit, you evil witch! You’re worse than Lisa!”

Beside him, Momo laughed, light and free. Toshiro couldn’t help but tear his eyes away from the developing scene again to watch her. She’d managed to balance Renji before he hit the table, which was good, although the man had already broken free to cheer his wife on in her berating of their drunkard friends. Quite loudly, if he might add. Momo seemed none too put off by it, her laugh only growing louder as Renji offered to back Rukia up in beating the sake out of them. Toshiro barely registered the noise, attention entirely fixed onto his childhood friend.

It’d been…a long time since he’d seen her laugh like that. Growing up her smile was a given, as regular as the sun rising in the morning or one of his spinning tops knocking everyone else’s out. She’d smile at everyone, everything, and always saved that brighter smile for when he was looking at her and returning it.

Granny smiled at him too, but it wasn’t the same. Didn’t feel the same, anyways. Momo had always smiled like she was welcoming the world home, taking everything around her in and finding such delight in it that it couldn’t help but spill over her face. Her smile was energy, condensed, and he’d coveted it like a man starved.

And maybe he had been. It had certainly felt like he was wasting away whenever she was upset, or hurt, or during those long months she’d been in the fourth and twelve divisions recovering from the betrayals of a world that dared not value her enough. Her. Of all people.

Other could tease him all they wanted on their childhood friendship, their suspicions of further feelings, but Toshiro never spared a thought for what they thought, only following what he knew. And what he knew was that Momo was the most important person in the world to him. That he would protect her, always, that smile of hers, the light of hers, that unending warmth she so freely gave, every bit of her light that graced this world and blessed him with the opportunity to bask in it.

It felt greedy to ask for more, when he’d already been given so much. And yet…

As Rukia made the ill formed decision to challenge Rangiku to a drinking battle for the money, Momo’s giggles turned to quick snorts of amusement. When Rukia began to argue about taking shots of alcohol per body mass instead of cups, and that Rangiku counted as three of her, her snorts turned into peels of laughter that left gasping, following by — a rather loud burp.

Toshiro raised his eyebrows in astonishment. The noise managed to wake up Kira for a second, who promptly hit his head on the underside of the table and passed out again.

Momo clapped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. Toshiro slowly smiled at her and she flushed further red. “It—it was the sake!”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, unconvinced. She noticed and hunched her shoulders, kimono wrinkling at the action.

“It was!”

Toshiro leaned his chin against his hand. “Bed wetter, cry baby, and burp champion, Momo. You’re really wracking up the titles, huh?”

“Shiirroooo,” Momo groaned, burying her face in her hands completely. The sight of her, flushed and embarrassed because of him, sent a quick burst of contentment in his chest, a warmth that was at odds with the permanent chill of his reiatsu. He couldn’t help but let his smile soften as she continued to bluster in embarrassment, somehow also managing to press closer to his side as if trying to hide in his captain's haori. He absentmindedly tucked her closer, running a hand down her back.

A flicker of movement nearby caught his eye and Toshiro looked to see Renji giving him a smug look. It would be worthy of reprisal if not for the soft, understanding gleam in his eyes.

Toshiro humphed and turned his head away, making sure not to move so much that the inebriated woman latched onto his shoulder fell off.

Fine. Maybe Renji was onto something.

[love-the-purple-cat]

Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 5

“Yer hair again?” She asks, idly kicking one of the men when they try to get up.

“Not quite. They got mad I beat up their men who made fun of my hair and decided that I needed to be taught a lesson.”

She snorts unattractively. “Do ya even like yer hair colour?”

Once again, Ichigo pauses in though. “...Why do you ask that?”

“Cause, no offence, but yer hair keeps gettin' ya inta trouble, and ya don’t even seem ta’ appreciate it. If it’s too much then just dye it sumthin' borin'.”

...It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, it’s just that it was one of the few connections he had still with his mother. Dyeing it seemed like a betrayal, and felt like giving up and admitting defeat after fighting others about it for so long.

“Ah, that does sound like a good reason not ta' dye it,” She says when he unintentionally thinks aloud. “But yer missin' ma' point: Are ya happy wit' yer hair? The colour will still appear when ya grow it out, it’ll just be temporarily hidden.”

He lightly fingers a strand. It was getting longer.

“I'll think about it.”

She nods. Neither pleased nor displeased.

 ------------------------

“Come over this weekend.”

They are eating lunch in her classroom, in a way celebrating becoming friends after knowing each other for a month. Her classmates occasionally throw them looks that they ignore.

“Sure. What are we goin' ta' do?”

He thinks of the box of black hair dye that he got on his last shopping trip with Yuzu two days ago. Yuzu had looked at him questionably but hadn’t said a thing to their family. “I need help with my hair.”

Cherī raises a brow, not getting the hint.

“I’m...” He swallows, eyes flickering to the other people in the room. “I’m thinking of trying something new. That thing you talked about a few days ago.”

It takes a moment longer for her eyes to light up in recognition and understanding. “Sure, where will we meet up?”

The corner of his lip twitches up.

 ---------------------------

“Yer mom famous or sumthin'?”

He looks to where she is examining his mother’s poster. “No, my dad got it after she died.”

She appears to be contemplating something before looking away. “So, where’s yer bathroom? Ah’m not gonna lie, da dye will stain yer bathtub/tiles like a bitch when ya wash it out. Best ya put on some old clothes too.”

Ichigo nods and leads the way, feeling nervous and calm at the same time.

Cherī orders him to sit on the edge of the bath, or bring a chair but then there’s a chance that it would be stained so he doesn’t. She starts by brushing his hair and parting it before beginning. “Ya sure ‘bout this, Ichigo?”

“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, heart thumping hard in his ribcage and something is lodged in his throat.

“Okay.” Her voice is soft and quiet, though not in comfort. It just is.

His eyes close, a foreign calmness taking over him as she works on his hair. It isn’t as short as it used to be, but it isn’t as long as he would have guessed it would be after not seeing a hairdresser for nearly a year.

“An’ now we leave it fer 25mins.” Her voice arouses him from the half-asleep state he had been in. He turns to look at himself in the mirror, but she blocks his view. “Let’s leave that fer later, okay?” Her voice is soft again.

He swallows thickly and nods. “Okay.”

They go to his room. They don’t talk, not really, but the silence doesn’t feel suffocating. She looks around the small space, and the though of how empty his room looks strikes him. There is only the essentials of a bed, a desk with a corkboard over it, and a chair. It doesn’t have any personality.

But, why does he care what his room looks like to an outsider?

“Ya got any favourite books?” Cherī asks, done looking around the bare room.

“Shakespeare.” He answers automatically.

“He’s good. Don’t know much ‘bout his works, only Romeo an' Juliet an’ that’s just a general idea. Ah like Dracula, an' Dr.Jekyl an' Mr.Hyde. Ya know, books wit' what could be considered a homoerotic undertone nowadays.” She looks at the notes stuck on the board. Most of them are related to school or past commitments so he doesn’t see a problem with her looking.

“Ya got any relatives? Ah got at least two first cousins an' a bunch of other great aunts an' uncles that ma' parents want me ta know ‘bout even though Ah only meet ‘em once every five years. Kinda pisses me off when they get annoyed that Ah don’t know any of their names, but that’s what happens when ya barely see someone.”

He blinks. This was the first time since the first day that she is mentioning family. “Not on my mom’s side, I think. But on my dad's...”

Did he have relatives in Soul Society? There were quite a few similarities between him and Kūkaku, and Ukitake-taichō had mentioned that he looks like his former lieutenant Shiba Kaien.

“’s okay ta' not know.” Cherī says. “Family’s confusin' sumtimes, an' it doesn’t help when they keep secrets, or don't bother mentionin' important stuff.”

She was right. His father had kept the fact that he was a shinigami from him, what’s one more secret?

“Time ta' wash yer hair. Ya need help wit' that?”

“No.”

She doesn’t smile, nor does she frown. “Okay.”

 -------------‐-----------------

He doesn’t like how he looks.

No...

He hates how he looks. He looks way too similar to Kūkaku, with his sharp chin and eyes.

He looks way too similar to them.

What was one more secret?

-The past is never dead. It’s just buried underneath soil and concrete-

“Ichigo,” Cherī calls, brown brows furrowed in concern. “Are ya okay?”

No. “Yeah.” He croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, just getting used to the new look.” He tries to smile but it must have come out as a grimace with the way she frowns.

“Okay. Ya got a dark hat or sumthin'?”

“Why?”

“’Cuz we're goin' ta' da store an' we're gonna buy ya a new dye.”

“This one is fine.”

“No, it ain't.” Her voice is a touch harder. “It’s makin' ya sad an' that’s da opposite of what we were aimin’ fer.”

“Cherī-“ He tries but is cut off.

“There's nothin’ wrong wit’ not likin' how ya look. Nothin' wrong wit' not likin’ black.” She says, and for a single moment, it feels as though she is talking about something else, like she knows what his inner tumour is about. “Let’s go get ya a new colour, Ichi.”

He nods, and chokes out an “Okay.”

 -----------------------

They're at one of the shops on the main street.

The first thing that greets them when they enter is hair dyes on one side of the aisle and deodorants on the other. Ichigo browses through the ‘natural’ colours first before going to the more ‘fun' – as Cherī calls them – ones. 

 All the colours of the rainbow were here: red, green, blue, purple, yellow and orange, along with a couple of other colours, each having different shades from lighter to darker. 

“When Ah first started dyeing ma' hair,” Cherī says, picking up a box and examining it. “Ah did it in ma' favourite colour – purple. Months later, Ah found out that if Ah planned on continuin' ta' dye ma’ hair fun colours, da colours would need ta' be ones that can easily be turned inta the next. Fer example: Ya dye yer hair blue, few months pass and ya want a new colour, yer either gonna havta bleach it or yer gettin' it done in green. Understand?” She places two bleaching kits in the basket.

Ichigo nods, examining the colours. His eyes stray towards the blue dyes, specifically the one that reminds him of Grimmjow.

He swallows.

Several months have passed since he had last seen the Espada; how would he react if he were to see him now – powerless and alone?

Well, he glances at Cherī as she compares two different shades of pink, not quite alone.

“Do ya like blue?” She asks, both boxes securely placed in the basket.

“Yeah,” He wets his lips. “I do.” It feels like he is confessing a sin by saying those words and thinking about his enemy. Were they even enemies now?

“Then get it.” She doesn’t reach for the box, preferring to wait for him to do it.

“It will clash with my complexion.” He argues weakly. Raising two girls since he was nine forced him to dive into fashion and learn the rules: body types, complexions, colour schemes and such. There were many other things he had to learn and do while his father was in mourning to survive but now was not the time to think about the past.

“So? This ain’t a fashion statement, Ichi. It's about makin' ya feel good and happy. But... if ya want a more autumn colour we can get red.” She reaches for the box and he grabs her wrist.

“No, not red.” Red reminds him of Renji, who reminds him of Rukia. Neither has bothered to visit him the months following Aizen's defeat. The excuse of him being unable to see them wouldn’t fly, not when he knew Urahara keeps gigais in his shop.

-There are bodies in the soil-

“Okay.” She says, slowly pulling her hand away. “Not red then. Bad memories?”

He winces, releasing her wrist to rub at his neck. “It’s... complicated.”

The girl huffs, “What does it remind ya of?”

He meant to say, “Nothing”. He wanted to say, “Renji”.Hell, he could have said nothing and she would have accepted his silence as an answer. Which is why he is so surprised when the word leaves his mouth without his permission.

“Blood.”

And it is true. The shade she was reaching for also reminds him of blood. It makes him remember the wound he had been inflicted in Hueco Mundo, where he quite literally died and was dead for a while, long enough for his inner Hollow to take control and battle the cuatro Espada Ulquiorra and win, before he managed to wrestle back control of his body. It also reminds him of the markings on his hollow mask.

Cherī looks surprised - not mortified, just... surprised. “Okay,” She repeats. “Not red.”

She’s examining the colours, searching for one that would fit his complexion, when he reaches forward and plucks the blue, Baby Blue, one and puts it in the basket. She doesn’t question him, doesn’t even indicate to have seen him do it but he knows she saw him and he appreciates her silence.

“What ‘bout green?”

His first though is Ulquiorra with his acid green eyes, marble skin, and black black bat wings that carry him over the sands of Hueco Mundo.

His second is Nelliel.

 “I like it.” He picks a turquoise shade called Mermaid.

“Pink?”

He likes pink, he's worn it often enough when he was younger and his sisters wanted to dress him up, but...

“No, not today.”

“Bad memories?”

He thinks of Yachiru, the girl with what he would describe bubblegum pink – even if that shade is called Cupcake here – hair and the man whose shoulder she would ride on.

“Not really.”

She nods, then juts her chin violently towards a reddish-pink colour named Love Letter. “What ‘bout that?”

The colour is nice so he gets it.

They continue on like that for a while, choosing and comparing colours - some of which repeat since Cherī also likes them - until the basket is overflowing. As a final colour Cherī chooses Snow – a pure white colour that reminded him of his inner Hollow's hair.

There's so much hair dye that he wonders whether he would ever be able to use each at least once.

The cashier is baffled by the amount but remains silent while she rings them up. It's as the numbers climb higher and higher that he begins to worry, given that he hadn’t brought that much money. But before he can open his mouth Cherī is already handing her credit card with a, “Could you also add one strawberry and one cherry flavoured chapstick? Thank you.”

He turns to look at her in bafflement. This was the first time he hears her speak ‘properly’ and it honestly unnerves him.

“Not ev'ryone can understan’ me, Ichi.” She says, handing him one of the bags.

They make their way to his house, talking about which colour they should do first. Cherī wants to see him in Love Letter or Milan – a light yellow colour that reminds him of an éclair's filling – but he says that he wants to try Baby Blue. She nods and gives him the strawberry chapstick.

“Yer lips are chapped.” She says and he accepts it.

[hashtagartistlife]

this is a state of grace

; –this is a worthwhile fight. Fate pulls them apart, and fate brings them back together. If there is one thing Ichigo and Rukia know about their separations, it is that their reunions are always worth the wait.

the poems at the start of each chapter are not mine, but are from this post here.  This has 4 chapters planned, one for each stanza, but I really don't know if I'll get around to finishing it since I have other fics that are higher on my priority list. Nevertheless, I've been holding onto this one chapter for so long that I figure it's time to send it off into the wild.   

_________________________________________________________

“I missed you.”

you toss it to him,

unexpected,

but knowing he has the animal reflexes to

catch it. It’s half a joke,

half something else

and the way he looks at

you, means you both aren’t

ready to talk about it.

 I.               

Ichigo doesn’t return to his human body immediately after the battle ends. Instead, he sits outside on the rooftop, his fingers lingering along his newfound black cladding like an afterthought; he watches the stars as he traces the armour snaking around his wrists and neck. There are a lot of people who want to see him, to speak to him—but he’s shunned them all for the moment, in favour of sitting outside in his shinigami form just a little longer. As though he is afraid that should he change back, the events of tonight will dissolve into a dream and he’ll wake up powerless once again.

Rukia doesn’t blame him. She knows exactly how he feels, the warmth of her reiryoku returned to her after months of its absence still clear as day in her mind. She remembers what it is like to feel hopeless and helpless, trapped in a body that was not meant for her, going through the motions of everyday life while constantly yearning for something beyond her reach. Shinigami are not complete without their zanpakutou by their side— are not much of anything at all without their power ringing through their veins and soaking through their souls.

Her power had trickled back to her in small streams, gradually and softly like a dam filling with rain, but even then her first brush against Sode no Shirayuki after her incarceration in Urahara’s gigai and the Senzaikyuu had been one of the most profound and relieving moments of her life. For Ichigo, she knows it will be that much more powerful, his reiryoku having been returned to him all at once (and in a distinctly ungentle manner). So it’s no surprise to her, really, that he has chosen to stay just a little longer in his Shinigami form, has chosen to sit outside where it’s quiet, all the better to feel his reiatsu swirl around him in a cloak so thick and heavy that she’s certain no Hollows will dare bother Karakura tonight.

She’s just three buildings away from him now, and already she can feel the pull of his reiatsu against hers, vital and alive. She hadn’t meant to seek him out when she and Renji had volunteered to scout the perimeters after Ginjou’s fall, to keep the area clear of Hollow complications while the rest of the party searched for stray Fullbringers, but somehow—like the first time, like every other time after that—she has ended up here anyway.

Some things are not like the first time, though. He’s taller, even when he’s sitting down. He’s broader. And though his back is to her, she knows his eyes will be older. A soldier’s eyes, a warrior’s eyes; not eyes you should see in the face of a seventeen-year-old.

She thinks, he’s grown up too soon.

She lands beside him like a star falling; beautiful and devastating all at once, graceful and assured. He doesn’t make any signs of acknowledgement, but his reiatsu shifts, warms and moves aside to create space for her next to him. She joins him in sitting, and his power envelops hers, settles around her like stardust. She closes her eyes and revels in the sensation.

“How are you?” he asks after a short silence, and she opens her eyes slowly; he is still looking at the sky, but his voice is warm and low.

“That should be my line,” she replies, because it should have been; he’s only seventeen, and he’s just killed a man. You always remember your first kill; you fold it away in the recesses of your heart and let it make or break you. Rukia will take the feeling of Kaien on the end of her sword to her grave. She knows Ichigo will see Ginjou’s last leer in his dreams till he dies.

“I’m fine,” he says lightly, “I’m fine,” repeats it for emphasis when her expression becomes skeptical. He turns to her with a hint of a smile in his eyes. “I’m fine.” The unspoken ‘now’ at the end isn’t lost on either of them. She studies him a moment, and decides he is telling the truth; he really is fine. Better. Whole.

And if that doesn’t speak volumes about how much he’s grown since the skinny, angry fifteen-year-old boy she stabbed with her sword two years prior, she doesn’t know what does. She takes back what she’d yelled at him in the heat of their reunion; he’s become resilient. Strong enough, and sure enough, to take on the world without her shouting directions into his ear. Which is both relieving, and a bit of a shame. She quite enjoyed the shouting at him part.

(Of course, just because the boy’s grown up a bit doesn’t mean he won’t still be an idiot on occasion. Just look at Renji. Perhaps her shouting days weren’t entirely past her after all.)

He must read some of her thoughts in the expression she turns to him, then, because he allows the mirth in his eyes to manifest into a smile—a half-smile, with a tinge of something bordering on sadness still, but a smile nonetheless. Rukia breathes.

“Your hair’s shorter,” he notes out of the blue, and his hand twitches, like he wants to bring it up and tug at her shorter strands.

“Yours is longer,” she counters, and unlike him she has no compunction about bringing her hand up and messing his windblown strands into a veritable disaster. Ichigo laughs as he tries to stop her, and she laughs too as she tries to continue, and somehow in between the reaching and the restraining and the hands around wrists, they topple over into a half-sprawled position, stargazing forgotten in favour of charting the small constellations of change scattered across the other’s person. Sideburns. Lieutenant’s badge. Black cladding. Gloves.

A melancholy that wasn’t there before in his steady gaze, and a loneliness that is different to the one she has always carried in hers.

 “Does it hurt?” she blurts out, before her thought processes can quite catch up to the ache in her heart that causes her to ask this. “Does it hurt? Where I stabbed you?” Does it hurt, she wants to ask, the sadness in your eyes?

He stills beneath her, and without his larger frame supporting her precarious leaning, she has to abandon her attempts to reach his hair so she can prevent herself from collapsing on top of him. Her hands fall, and somehow both land on his chest; one off to the side, the other one directly over his sternum, where she had pierced him to transfer his powers back to him.

“No,” he says quietly, “not anymore.” Not anymore, he wants to reply, not now that you’re here.

They stare at each other for a heartbeat, the moment stretching into eternity; ah, but the things that stretch are always as fragile as the gap they bridge. A gust of wind chases a late autumn leaf into Rukia’s mouth, and the moment is broken. She splutters comically, sitting bolt upright to spit the offending plant out of her mouth, and Ichigo doubles up with laughter, rolling out from under her in helpless spasms across the cold concrete.

Ah, Rukia thinks, even as she scrunches her face up in mock outrage, this was better. This was something familiar in unfamiliar territory, and it gladdens her that no matter how many things change between them they will always have this. This easy dynamic that neither of them can find with anyone else, and this emboldens her just enough to throw out the words that have been on the tip of her tongue all evening. 

“I missed you, you fool.”

The moment the words are out of her mouth, she wants to take them back; the tone is all wrong, too heavy, too full of an emotion she hadn’t meant to put into them (hadn’t realized she’d put into them). Ichigo’s eyes widen a fraction, the grin dying on his lips, and Rukia feels a detached sort of panic climbing up her throat; she was wrong, she was wrong, she had misjudged everything completely and there was nothing there to stop her plummeting headlong into the abyss—

Only, he sits up. His lips close and part soundlessly a few times, and a hand reaches out for her almost involuntarily. She offers him her wrist, and he curls his fingers around it, clamps down on it like a lifeline. He’s looking at her with the strangest expression on his face, somewhere between anguish and yearning, and her heart jolts.

“I—“ the word chokes in his throat, half-strangled, barely articulated. Very suddenly, he looks much younger than his seventeen years. “Rukia, you—“

Her other hand reaches up to rest against his temple, brushing back the soft, spiky hair there. He tenses for a split second, all his muscles locking in a soldier’s reaction to proximity, before his bones are liquid and he melts into her touch. He exhales shakily, turning his face into her palm; she feels the warm tip of his nose brush her hand. “Rukia, I—“

“Shh,” she croons, “It’s alright, Ichigo. It’s ok.” And it is, because she understands—they’ve always been good at this, this unspoken communication. And as much as things haven’t changed between them, she understands in that moment that something significant has. But she barely knows what it is and he—well. If the way he is shaking is anything to go by, he’s not ready for it either. So for now, this is enough. His shaky breaths against her, his fingers around her wrists, her hand on his hair; the two of them, under the stars.

Gradually, his breathing slows, evens; she makes to draw back, but his grip on her tightens. His other hand fetters her other wrist, keeping it against him. She can feel his warm exhalations on her skin and the tiny hairs on her arm stand on end.

“Wait,” he rasps, and the breath tickles on its way past, sends a shiver down her spine. His voice is calm, but there is an edge of a question to it, the tight, anticipatory tension before a reply.

“I know,” she says, heart in her throat. She’s not quite sure what it is that she knows, only that she does. “Ichigo, I know.”

He relaxes fractionally; he doesn’t let go of her wrists and neither does she attempt to take them away. There is something calmer in the air now, a feeling of something resolved, if only half-resolved. They will come back to it later.

They breathe together. 

[recurring-polynya]

For the Renji birthday prompt: A fic where Renji discovers that he can't go tits out anymore now that he's married (maybe with some jealous Rukia thrown in perhaps)?

I maintain that the new tits-in regime is self-imposed; I present to you my thesis. (I did not attempt to take on The Vest; I assume it came later, and I eagerly await more Vest Lore from Kubo himself)

Warning that I sincerely hope deters absolutely no one: This fic is about boobs. It contains many, many synonyms for boobs. Some of them are rude. 

Read on ao3 or ff.net

---

“I’m telling you, you’re jumping to conclusions. Sometimes he puts them away when he fights. He told me this.”

“I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“It’s been winter.”

“That has never stopped him before. And it’s April now. Open season. And yet…?”

“I think we should just ask him.”

“You can’t just ask a guy, ‘hey, where did your tits go?’”

“I could, but I refuse. Abarai’s aesthetic is his own business.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, he’s here, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Not it!”

“Also not it!”

“Matsumoto, you have to do it. You’re the one who talked him into letting them hang out in the first place.”

“I agree with Yumichika. Renji knows what he’s doing, and if he has decided that the puppies are off-limits, that’s on him.”

“Hey, guys!” Abarai Renji’s cheerful voice rang out over the din of the bar. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Just means you have to catch up quick!” Rangiku declared, pouring him some sake.

“No missus tonight?” Shuuhei asked.

Renji’s entire face went pink and he got the same moony look in his eyes he always got whenever someone mentioned his wife or his marital state generally. “She sends her regards and says I’m supposed to drink extra for her. She goes over to the Manor on Wednesday evenings now to hang out with her brother.”

“Have you actually managed to call him by his given name yet?” Iba asked. “Now that you’re related?”

“His given name is ‘Captain’ and I call him that all the time,” Renji replied snottily.

“So. Renji,” Izuru said, leaning forward on his elbow. “Are you doing something different? With your look? I feel like there’s something different about you.”

Renji’s face lit up. “You noticed!” He swung his head around, his long braid swinging over his shoulder. “I’ve started braiding it!”

“Oh, no, it’s permanent?” Yumichika moaned.

“That’s not new,” Iba scoffed. “You slept with it like that the whole time we were roommates. I just figured that you didn’t have time to fix your hair in the morning anymore because you were too busy taking care--oof!”

“It looks very nice, Renji!” Momo said sweetly, extracting her elbow from Iba’s rib cage.

“It’s different,” Renji glowered at Iba. “I braid it loosely at night to prevent breakage and lock in moisture. This is an action braid.” He wheeled on Yumichika. “And I’m only French braiding it for now, because it’s shorter in front than in the back, you know, because of the accident. Once I’ve grown it out to all one length again, I’ll just do a regular braid.”

“You could just cut it to the length of the shortest part and go back to the pineapple hair,” Ikkaku suggested. “I always liked the pineapple hair.”

Renji turned pink again. “Ah, well. Rukia likes it long.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the braid is… what I was thinking of,” Izuru soldiered on.

Renji sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “I got a new tattoo? A pair, actually.”

“Oh! Did you?”

“On your chest?” Shuuhei asked hopefully. A healing tattoo would be a good excuse to cover up.

“Nah, on my thighs.”

Izuru sighed. “Since when do I look at your thighs, Abarai?”

“I have good thighs, Izuru.”

“He probably just looks different because he’s so happy now,” Rangiku suggested. “By which I mean getting your back blown out every night.”

“That could be it!” Renji agreed cheerfully. “Oh, I was wearing a scarf for a while there, when we had that cold snap! Is it the scarf? Or maybe the lack of scarf? It’s a nice scarf, Captain gave it to me for a wedding present. He says a man of quality should own a scarf.”

“I give up,” Izuru sighed.

“Hey, jocks, what’s going on?” a new voice interrupted.

“Akon!” half the table chorused and Renji scooted over so Akon could slide in next to him.

“Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, sorry, I had an experiment I wanted to get finished up.”

“We were just talking about how there’s something different about Renji,” Shuuhei pressed.

Akon surveyed Renji for a moment. “Well, he’s got his tits tucked in for once. Aren’t you hot? You told me once you did that for ventilation.”

“That was very much a lie,” Renji clarified. “And I’m a married man now, my cans are closed for business. Speaking of which, Rangiku, fill ‘er up again, please, I’ve gotta keep up my wife’s reputation.”

---

Momo couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Out of their entire friend group, she was pretty sure she was the least interested in Renji’s… bosoms. There was a time… long, long ago when she had thought he was pretty hot stuff. She still counted him among her closest friends and favorite people, but had long ago come to the conclusion that big and beefy just wasn’t her type.

“Why, Lieutenant Hinamori! What brings you to my office?” Acting Captain Kuchiki Rukia leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. She must have been practicing, because the last time Momo had seen her do that, she had nearly fallen backwards out of the chair.

Momo sighed. “I have to tell you, this isn’t business.” Not exactly. It sort of was, in the sense that Shuuhei and Matsumoto (who apparently did care very much about Renji’s chest situation, so long as she wasn’t the one who had to confront him about it) had come over and dramatically draped themselves all over the Squad 5 couch and complained about the dreary state of affairs to Captain Hirako until he ordered Momo to go do some investigating.

“Good, because I have been filling out Nanao’s new skills-inventory-for-seated-officer forms all morning and I’m about to lose it,” Rukia said with an overly cheerful grin.

“We could go out to the yard and fight?” Momo offered hopefully. Maybe she could tell Captain Hirako that she got distracted and forgot to ask about Renji.

Rukia’s face fell a little. “Er, I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t today. Sentarou just made me this pot of tea, though. Do you want some? It’s lemon ginger, it’s really good.”

“Sure,” Momo agreed.

“So what’s up?” Rukia asked again, once Momo was perched in the guest chair, a fragrant cup of tea cradled in her hands.

Well, might as well just rip the bandage off. “I need you to know that I was put up to this by… you know. The idiots. The cowards we go drinking with.”

“Understood,” Rukia agreed.

“There is… some concern… about your husband.”

Rukia’s eyebrows shot up. “My sweet pumpkin pants?”

“I’m leaving,” Momo announced.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Rukia waved her hands, laughing. “I’ll be serious. What has that lunkhead done now?”

“This is so dumb,” Momo muttered. She cleared her throat. “He’s stopped going around with his bazongas hanging out all the time, and everyone’s losing their minds over it.”

Rukia stared at her. “Excuse me, his what?”

Momo made a vague gesture at her own chest. “You know. His… boobies.”

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Rukia nodded, her brow creased in thought. “Bazongas. I like that.”

“Not that I care!” Momo excused. “I mean, I agree, he should be allowed to dress how he likes, but you two seem to have a very equitable relationship and I said that I was sure he wasn’t doing anything that he hadn’t agreed to--”

“Hold on,” Rukia interrupted. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“You didn’t?” Momo asked. “He said he was keeping them tucked in because he was married now. We assumed it was at your request.”

“I didn’t even know!” Rukia replied. “I mean, I came home yesterday, and he was just--” she made a hand gesture like she was pulling her kosode open, “--completely out--”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Momo begged.

“Well, I tell you I had nothing to do with it,” Rukia assured her. “No one is more supportive of Renji acting slutty in public than me. Everyone knows I have that locked down, and honestly, it just makes me seem more powerful.”

Momo squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to punch Shuuhei so hard.”

Rukia rubbed her index finger over her chin. “It’s possible this came down from Brother…”

Momo whimpered, although, honestly, having a conversation with the other Captain Kuchiki about Abarai’s pectorals couldn’t possibly be more awkward than this.

“...or it might be… something else.” Rukia frowned. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“You will?” Momo asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I can’t promise to bring the jugs back, but I’ll make sure it’s just Renji being a doofus and not Renji hiding his anxieties under aesthetic choices or Renji being oppressed by his brother-in-law.”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Momo said. Rukia could be bossy at times, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Sometimes, Renji has to be bullied into taking care of himself.”

“You’re telling me!” Rukia exclaimed. “Thank you for caring about him,” she added warmly.

“For the record, I care about him,” Momo replied. “Everyone else just misses the view.”

“Noted,” Rukia replied.

---

Renji had his nose stuffed in his cookbook, which lately, wasn’t a good sign. Renji only owned one cookbook, an encyclopedic tome that he only cracked open when he was trying something new or otherwise wasn’t sure what he was doing.

“I hope you aren’t making that kale curry again,” Rukia noted dryly.

Renji jumped three feet in the air. “Aaah, shoot! Rukia! I didn’t hear you come in! I’m so sorry!”

Rukia hopped up on her kitchen stool and leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. “We’ve been married for four months now. You don’t have to greet me at the door every single day, you know.”

“Sixteen weeks, three days,” Renji replied. “And I can still be sorry about it.”

“Just tell me we’re having something normal for dinner, and I’ll forgive you,” Rukia replied.

Renji jerked a thumb toward the stove behind him. “I made oden,” he explained. “It’s simmering, probably’ll be another ten minutes.”

“Ohhhhhh, I love your oden!” Rukia stretched her arms across the counter and did grabby hands at his hands until he laced his fingers through hers. “Did you make enough for me to take some for lunch tomorrow?”

“Depends on how much you eat tonight,” he replied. “Your appetite’s been really hit or miss lately.”

“Yeah, well...” Rukia agreed. “So what’s with the cookbook, then?”

“Oh,” Renji said vaguely. “I’m thinking about learning to bake cookies?”

“I’m in favor of that,” Rukia agreed, although her mind immediately went back to the conversation she’d had with Momo that afternoon.

“I’m not sure this book is helping,” Renji admitted. “If I was any good at baking, it would be one thing, but it’s too different. I’ve always been better at learning stuff from other people. Do you think it would be weird if I asked Iba’s mom to teach me? She used to make these little sesame biscuits for Iba. I would always steal them from him. They were so good and he didn’t properly appreciate them anyway.”

“It would absolutely be weird, and I think you should do it anyway,” Rukia proclaimed. She paused. “But maybe you could wait a few more weeks until we tell everyone we’re pregnant so all your friends will stop asking me what’s wrong with you.”

Renji’s eyes widened. “Did your brother say something last night? Because he told me he liked the braid!”

Rukia snorted. “No. He’s worse than you are anyway, he’s been reading books. Please make him stop, if you can. Actually, I’ve been getting complaints about,” she circled a finger in the vicinity of Renji’s chest.

Renji glanced down, and realized that his kosode was still neatly folded up to his collarbone. “Oops, sorry! I told you I didn’t hear you come home.” He immediately began untucking it.

Rukia leaned her chin on her palm, watching his progress. “I realize that making emotionally constipated people face their feelings is usually your department, but it seems you’ve got something heavy rattling around in there. Wanna talk about it?”

Renji’s eyes slid to one side. “Talk about what?”

Rukia cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Renji heaved a sigh. “Do you remember that time, back in Inuzuri, the first time I used my reiatsu in public? When I blocked a lead pipe with my arm?”

Rukia almost choked. “What do you mean, do I remember it? Of course I remember it.”

“Well, not so much that, but do you remember afterward, when you said I was too big and mean to be a sneakthief anymore? That it was better to confront the world and show it what we were made of?”

“I do remember that. I did not call you mean.”

“You probably didn’t. It’s probably just something I thought about myself.” He looked pensive for a moment. “In any case, it was something I really took to heart, especially after we split up. At first, I just wanted to make myself as big and loud and scary as possible. I liked the way people shied away from me. Later on, after I started hanging out with Yumichika, I realized that walking around sexy could be intimidating in a different sort of way, and I liked that, too.”

Rukia had a comment for that, but she decided to just listen, instead.

Renji smoothed the page of his book with his fingers. “I don’t want to look scary anymore.”

“You don’t look scary,” Rukia reassured him. “You haven’t looked scary in a long time.”

“I want to do better than that, though,” Renji frowned. “Has your brother ever talked to you about his dad?”

Rukia blinked, surprised, mostly that Byakuya had talked about Soujun with Renji. “A few times.”

“I, uh, asked him what his dad was like. Since I never had one myself. I expected him to either blow me off or start bellyaching, like he does about his granddad, but he didn’t. He said his pop was very gentle and kind. He said he was a good dad.”

“Byakuya loved his father a lot.”

“Yeah, that was pretty clear.”

“I hope he finished by saying what a good father you will make, but it’s my brother, so I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He said something about how he was sure I would proceed in my own way.”

Rukia sighed again. “Renji, you’ll be a great dad. It’s super obvious. I’ve only told half a dozen people that I’m pregnant and all of them who aren’t Byakuya have immediately reacted with ‘Renji is going to be such a good dad.’ You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”

Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “Well, all my good dad instincts are telling me our kid is gonna wanna fight the world bad enough as it is, that the last thing they need is a dad who wants to fight the world, too. I’ve fought the world long enough. I’m probably never gonna be gentle, but I can try my best to be kind, and I can dress like a normal person in public for a change and… maybe I can make a cookie? It’s worth a try, I think.”

Rukia flashed him a sad, but fond smile. “You’re such a dork. A sweet, thoughtful dork, though, and I will support your experiment, even though you know I love your bazongas more than anyone.”

“‘Bazongas’? Oh no, did those assholes make Momo come and talk to you?”

Rukia shrugged and tried to look innocent.

“Anyway, you’re my wife, I will take them out for you whenever you want.”

“Yay!”

Renji furrowed his brow into its “determined” configuration. “Do not get me wrong. I am actually upping my chest day routine. I am going to keep them immaculate, and when my shirt gets ripped off in a fight, people are going to lose their minds over how lush my boys are.”

“I love you so much,” Rukia replied.