bleugazer

Fic: Epitaph

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 04:05:54 GMT

Title: Epitaph
Characters: Yachiru, Kenpachi
Warnings: character death, violence
Ratings: PG

Yachiru doesn't remember anything before Ken-chan.

Before Ken-chan it was nothing but darkness and red, lots and lots of angry splatters of red.

If she thinks hard, she can remember a crying woman with pretty long hair and sad eyes. For days the woman would seclude herself in her dark room, humming softly or else sobbing for her husband. Sometimes she would rock her baby and whisper wild stories of a great bear befriending a tiny rabbit

“They lived happily ever after,” the woman happily recanted. Her dark eyes were missing that tiny light that glimmered of hope, so when the baby stared at her eyes she saw nothing but two endless dark pools. “Always seeking new adventures and making new friends!”

The baby smiled and suddenly a tear fell from the woman’s empty eyes. “Because of you he’s gone!” she screamed in hysteria and a servant had to run in to take the baby away. Slamming the door behind and leaving the woman to howl in pain, weeping for hours at a time

Something was broken inside this deplorable woman but the adults were too busy hiding her from the world to offer any help.

The baby was left in her crib, picked up to be changed or feed and then forgotten. Many times the woman would wander into the baby’s nursery and smile, counting her tiny little finger and toes before some tiny thing sent her to madness.

Indeed that’s how the tiny babe spent her early life, listening to the woman’s wails at night and hearing stories at day. It continued repeatedly until finally the woman didn’t cry anymore and there were no more stories

Soon afterwards the cries and stories were replaced by angry shouts. The baby’s caretaker were busy arguing over who would take care of her. She had become a burden, now that she was alone without any money or power, and no one wanted to take care of her.

Someone suggested that the baby should be sent to the country where an old aunt would raise her. It was unanimous and soon the baby’s modest belongings were packed and a carriage was called for. A wet nurse and a young man would accompany the baby until they reached the country, there a letter would be delivered- no a family ruling that this baby would be raised far away, never to be seen.

However, no one had mentioned how dangerous the journey would be- otherwise a guard would be hired. But the selfish adults did not care for the safety of the baby, now that she had nothing.

Along the journey the wet nurse covered the baby’s eyes to protect her eyes from the harsh sun. It seemed that the baby would always be shrouded in darkness, never experiencing the joy of seeing colours but always black and gray.

But then something unexpected happened. The baby finally saw colour, she saw red for the first time, lots and lots of red. No sooner had the carriage reached Kusajishi that the carriage was attacked by thieves, and there had been screams and tears. The carriage had been turned over and she tumbled onto the floor, her many blankets cushioning her fall.

Men barged into the carriage, cursing and shouting for money before running off. The baby poked her head from within the blankets and she saw, finally saw colour for the first time.

On the floor was her wet nurse, her eyes lifeless, red trickling from her head. Her neck had been sliced wide open and more red continued to ooze, covering her breast. The young man was on the floor, his stomach gutted by a knife.

For days the baby laid trapped in the broken down carriage, staring at the red and breathing in the coppery stench. Occasionally a footstep would startle her but whoever it was they never entered the carriage.

She probably would have died— no she would have died if it weren’t for that great laughter in the air. Such a sound! It broke through the still forest, echoing against the trees, causing the birds to fly away.

Indeed it was such a great shout, such a great sound that it seemed as though the very ground was shaking. Her tiny heart began to race and she found she wanted to hear more of it.

All the sounds she had heard were cries and screams that this sudden new sound excited her. This new sound was so much better than all the sounds she had heard in her short life and she needed to hear more of it.

Somehow she crawled out of the overturned carriage, hitting the ground with a painful thump but she ignored it, her determination set on pursuing that great laughter.

Her fingernails became covered in mud, her tiny palms redden, and her pretty kimono became torn and dirty but still she did not stop following that sound. Faster and faster she crawled wanting to hear more of that sound, understanding that this was happiness. For the first time she was hearing happiness, no more sadness, no more anger but true happiness.

The trees themselves seemed to make way, becoming lesser and lesser as she reached this laughter as if encouraging her to continue forward despite her tiny body’s protest.

But then the sound stopped. She had reached a small clearing that created a circle and like the carriage, it too was covered in red and smelled of copper.

There was a cry in the back of her throat, as the baby realized that all these men were lifeless just as her wet nurse. Certainly they wouldn’t have made the noise. Therefore she would never be able to hear that sound again.

"Where did you come from kid?”

A giant— a giant it must have been for his fingers alone were as long as her body— sat on a polished stone, covered in red. His hair was jet black, dirty and sweaty, sticking to his forehead. A long scar ran from his left eye to his jaw, the deep scar making a contrast to his tanned skin.

He stared at her oddly, following her clumsy movement before she accidentally cut her pink palm on his sword.She stared at oozing blood in wonder, surprised that she too could make the colour red. Surprised that she could create some colour in her black and gray life, and maybe just maybe she could also create that great sound.

Unable to hold her excitement she shoved her tiny fist at the giant, pleased with the pretty colour. The giant stared at her, surprised at her lack of tears. “Kid, what’s your name?”

Name? She didn’t have one. The woman had played with her as though she was a doll and her caretakers had treated her as a burden. For so long she had been ignored, left to the darkness and the woman’s madness.

The giant stood then and she arched her head up as he stood as tall as any tree, as strong as the grizzly bears as wild as the wolves.

">“Yachiru the name of the only person I’ve ever cared about. I’ll give it to you,” he said his voice sturdy watching her closely for any sign of fear. But she was not afraid; she had only known pain and anger, and for the first time she was witnessing something else.

“I will be Kenpachi.”

Yachiru doesn’t remember anything before Ken-chan but she thinks that’s okay.

Before Ken-chan was nothing but misery and neglect, nothing but sadness and anger.

With Ken-chan she got to hear more of his great barks of laughter, especially if he found himself a good fight. That great laughter, she soon realized, meant that Ken-chan was happy and as long as he was happy she was happy too.

She enjoyed each moment with Ken-chan as he moved though Roukongai in search of a good fight. She enjoyed seeing all these bright vivid colours, hearing new sounds, smelling new things

When Ken-chan finally found a good fight, he would hold his sword on the right hand, Yachiru on the other and charge into battle. He would let out a great bark of laughter, so great that it ruffled the trees and shook his opponents. Sometimes Yachiru would be hit but Ken-chan would make sure to give an extra hard punch to the poor bastard.

He would take whatever money they had and buy her some toy or pretty kimono whenever they were in town.He would change her diapers, burp her, feed her and always set her down for her afternoon nap. Of course he would complain, hollering that babies were disgusting and too fussy and simply too much work, but he never abandoned her in one of the many towns they traveled to.

Years went by in the same fashion until Yachiru thought of something. What if Ken-chan lost? Each new opponent was becoming wilder and stronger; and there had been many times when Ken-chan had a hard time winning. His injuries were becoming deeper and bloody- once his bicep was split open to shove the tissue and vessels inside.

Then she thought of something. What if Ken-chan died?

Yachiru knew from experience that if there is too much blood then the person could die.

She remembers crying about this one night, thinking that dying would certainly not suit Ken-chan. He was impatient and animated, never still and silent.

“Oi Yachiru if ya don' get here ya ain't eating.”

He paused slightly, frowning when he didn't hear a response. “Oi!” He rose from the stone he was sitting at, grumbling in annoyance. “What the hell ya cryin' for?”

She sniffed, breaking down into new tears. “Who hurt you?” he asked a murderous tone in his voice. “Because when I find that –”

“No!” she sniffed. Ken-chan had already taught her how to fight and she could more than handle herself.

“Well what the hell is it?”

“I-I don' want Ken-chan to die!” she bawled out, rubbing her red eyes with her fist. “That's it?” he questioned rolling his eyes. “I ain't sick. I ain't gonna die.”

“No,” she continued. “What if Ken-chan loses? What if Ken-chan dies?”

“So what? That's the price ya get for a good fight!” he reasoned but the waterworks wouldn't stop. “Listen you, no one lives forever. We all gonna die someday!”

This time she broke into more tears. He sighed, easily picking her with up her oobi and putting her on his strong back. “Ya know when ya have a hard fight and fall asleep?”

Yachiru blinked. “Yeah.”

“Well that's all it is. So quit bawling over nothing!” She sniffed, her eyes becoming glossy once again. “I'll try not to die any time soon, got it?”

Yachiru smiled happily, clapping her hands and cheering out loud.

“But when I die you better not be bawling, got that?”

“Hai!” she said cheerily, sitting down on his shoulder.

And so Yachiru watched as another sword struck Ken-chan's body.

He let out that familiar bark of a laughter that means he is happy that this turned out to be a good fight after all. Kenpachi rips off the black eye patch, grinning manically at the approaching opponents. His lips pulled back in a sinister smile, his eyes glinted darkly, lusting for blood.

With another yell, he charges at the armies, swiping his rusted sword at the throngs. They keep coming at him, these soldiers that do not fear death but live only for Aizen's cause.

There is a harsh crack then as he beheads another opponent, its blue eyes wide before growing blank as life leaves him. Immediately there is another soldier taking his place and just as easily Kenpachi beheads him too. He cuts off limps and heads, punches and breaks bones.

The adrenaline keeps him focused and fighting, stronger than any drug. This feeling, this excitement. For too long he has missed this familiar sense of battle. He is running solely on basic instincts, the wild instincts that separated humans from animals.

Again he lets out another bark of laughter.

“Keep them comin’!”

Another wave of soldiers come rushing, this time bringing cannons to try and stop this great beast. But Kenpachi does not waver for a moment, he continues to take out as many soldier, and when one of them get luck and strikes his body, he does not pause. In an instance he brings down the culprit.

He is fighting an entire army and is destroying over three-quarters of it. The last move had been quick, too quick and for a moment he cannot help but wonder why he hadn’t seen it sooner. It was some sort of illusion, that’s why he hadn’t seen it. The illusion somehow dulled his senses.

Well that was a pretty cheap trick, he thinks. He had finally gotten the fight that he craved for years, ever since he fought that kid Ichigo. This fight makes him feel alive and aware of his surroundings, something he hasn’t done so in years. But now it has ended too soon.

Kenpachi yanks away the sword that came crashing at his lungs. The soldiers are hesitant for a moment, wondering how someone can survive a crushing blow. He fights and he fights until finally he cannot breathe anymore.

It was his own fragile body that prevented him from finishing that great battle he craved for.

It takes him a long time to come down, perhaps because of his large size and when he does he looks up to see a very still Yachiru. “Dumbass!”

And then everything becomes dark and he can no longer hear the cries and shouts of the enemy, he can no longer taste the blood in his mouth, or feel the dull pain in his chest. For a moment his mind forms a vague outline of the previous Yachiru, the only woman he had ever cared for.

Slowly she approaches him, her eyes examining his overly large bloody body. This is the first time she had ever seen Ken-chan so quiet.

“You can rest now, Ken-chan, I’ll finish these guys off for you,” she whispers in his ear.

And then she pulls out his rusty sword from his strong grip, and dashes throughout the scene taking out as many monsters as she can. The monsters retaliated, confused as to how someone so small could have such an extraordinary amount of power.

When Ikkaku finally came with the division, he finds Yachiru sitting unusually quiet, watching the remains of the bloody battlefield. She is covered in blood, her uniform is torn, and she is clutching the rusted sword of Zaraki Kenpachi.

“Madarame!”

He’s more startled at the lack of her stupid nicknames.

“Take taichou back to the camp grounds, count how many survivors we have left, and get me a count on how many are capable of fighting.”

“Y-yes, fukutaichou!” he yells out, somewhat bewildered by the formality.

Yachiru closes her eyes at the overwhelming silence, trying to picture Ken-chan’s harsh laugh. It was his harsh laugh that had saved her after all, and he had been laughing and happy.

“Um fukutaichou?” Ikkaku begins hesitantly approaching the little girl. He is afraid of the angst and tears he will find her in.

She of all people had known Zaraki-taichou for so long.

“What is it baldie?” she asks in her usual chirpy voice.

“Didn’t I give you an order?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even notice the nickname.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? Ken-chan had lots of fun!”

Eventually Ikkaku leaves to bring back more shinigami to carry the large size of Zaraki. It takes five men to carry him back to the crowds.

She would have broken into tears, would have screamed and gone hysterical, like her poor mother had. But Yachiru does not want remember anything before Ken-chan. She wants to remember Ken-chan’s great laugh and their adventures as they roamed through Roukingai in search of a good fight.

Before Ken-chan is nothing but darkness and sadness.

Thus, she will never crumble to her mother’s madness and despair. She does not even remember her anymore, so she cannot follow her mother’s path. All she can remember now is her promise to Ken-chan and the wise sayings of her adopted father.

So when they ask her for what shall be carved in his epitaph, Yachiru eagerly says, “The price for a good fight!

Fic: Fanaticism

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 01:54:39 GMT

Title: Fanaticism
Characters: Gin, Rangiku
Warnings: disturbing
Rating: PG-13

“Why is it that you smile all the time?” Rangiku asked out loud. It had only been a few months since she met Ichimaru Gin, but the question had been bothering her for some time. It was very old to say the least by Gin was always smiling, always. Even when he was bleeding, or hungry, or tired, there was always a smile on his pale face. It never wavered.

Rangiku had wondered whether it was some sort of defect, like a scar. But what sort of defect made people smile constantly?
The silver-haired boy turned around, the usual grin on his pale features. Like most of the children in Roukongai, Gin was skinny, dirty, malnourished, and stunted in growth. However, Rangiku soon learned that Gin was unlike any of the other starving children. Gin’s mind seemed to work in different ways. He remembered a lot of things—things like the direction to a hideout or the specific pothole where wagons overturned.

He analyzed things, like who were the right people to pickpocket or whether they should risk the chance of getting caught by stealing. He created perfect schemes and traps to crook both adults and children out of their money and food.

Gin also knew how to read and write, add and subtract, all without formal schooling.

But perhaps what was even more impressive, Rangiku thought, Gin could control spiritual energy, mold it to certain extents. He had even torn and stolen several pages of an expensive kidou book and, remarkably after a few days, mastered every one of them.

Rangiku knew early on that Gin was smart. She knew that while she thought of tomorrow, he thought of tomorrow and next week, two weeks ahead even; and it was because of this intelligence that Gin had survived a harsh life on the streets.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he responded, closing the broken door against the bitter cold. With a yawn, he threw himself against a yellow haystack.
“No,” Rangiku answered ignoring mooing of the white and black cows.

It was the dead of winter but Gin had found a barn to escape the cold. He had recalled that the owners tended to visit distant relatives for all of winter. A boy would be left to take care of the farm, but the boy was relatively careless. This made for an opportune time, since they could sneak into the barn to escape from the winter- though it was rather noisy and smelled strongly of manure. But it provided warmth.
“I thought it was obvious,” he said matter of fact. “Don’t people smile because they’re happy?”

“Yeah,” Rangiku admitted. She sat down beside him, observing the grin that was carved onto his face. It was a most unusual smile as well. The ends of his lips curved upwards, raising his cheeks. His eyes cringe from the force of the smile, making it seemed as though they were always shut. To Rangiku his smile didn’t seem friendly.

A friendly smile would be that kind old lady’s smile from last week. She had unselfishly given her a pretty comb for her wild hair, mentioning that she would look so much prettier if only she would comb her hair. Gin had scoffed at such an unnecessary thing, and had pondered how much cash this old woman had on her. At this, Rangiku loudly protested, saying that the comb was probably worth something that they didn’t need to steal from a harmless old lady.

Eventually Gin had agreed and they ended up pawning the comb. A portion would go for food, another to savings. She didn't quite understand what they were saving for but Rangiku had a feeling that maybe it had something to do with the Shinigami Academy, since Gin seemed entranced by it- he was the only one from Roukongai who could probably recite the name of the headmaster and the faculty.
Of course Rangiku had been sad that the comb was pawned, since the old lady's smile was so pleasant and it was such a random act of kindness to a skinny, filthy girl like herself. But she understood that a plate of hot food would be more useful than a silly comb.

To Rangiku, Gin’s smile wasn’t as friendly as that kind old lady. Instead, his was much more mischievous as though he knew some secret that no one else did.

“Are you really happy all the time?” Rangiku asked, more curious than ever. She normally didn't ask Gin questions, partially because she feared that he might be offended and leave her on the streets. For a moment Gin didn’t answer, and she worried whether she had said something stupid and insensitive.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he finally answered, turning a page. He must have been too engross in his book to answer her question. For days he had hungrily looked through the book, eager for knowledge.

She frowned unable to follow his logic. There were millions of reasons to be miserable and unhappy. Rangiku awoke into Soul Society with this retched spiritual energy and because of this horrible curse, she became unwanted. Rangiku became someone so detested, so vulgar that not even the other children had wanted to invite her into their families. Most children groaned in annoyance when they saw her, and threw rocks and mud, yelling at her to go away.

Spiritual energy, she soon learned, was only useful when the individual was a shinigmai or a nobleman; otherwise it was nothing but a nuisance— nothing but pain and unending hunger. Because of her spiritual energy, she needed more food than ‘normal’ children and, consequently, she became too much of a burden to be anyone’s sister.

Left alone and friendless, Rangiku wandered the dust covered streets, rummaging through garbage and filth for food, sipping polluted, dirty water because she was so thirsty, and competing for that one moldy old bread against the hundreds of starving children.

And when she would beg for food, it was always a whack to the head, a harsh shove, or some insult; or perhaps even worse, a turn of the head, her presence obviously not significant enough or too much of a hindrance.

Perhaps that’s why she felt so startled when that kind old woman had smiled at her. No one had ever ‘seen’ her before. She was always this poor invisible creature that people tended to ignore.

But then one day, Rangiku heard whispers of a better district, where the rich noble folks threw away piles of food and where the water was so sparkling clean you could see through it. Excited by this thought, she had eagerly left that cruel area, in search of a better home. But the trip turned out to be much longer than she expected—roughly two weeks—and she collapsed, tired and hungry, alone in the middle of two districts.

A thought came to her that she might die, and a spark of hope raced through her head that maybe there wouldn’t be any more hunger and pain, with whatever came next.

But then Gin had saved her by merely offering a persimmon— a small, yellow-dried persimmon that she still remembers even today— and would mildly ask whether she had spiritual energy. “You too?” she asked feebly.

“Yup! Me too!” He had said it so eagerly as though he were proud to have spiritual energy, as though spiritual energy wasn’t a curse, but some sort of gift that only the privilege could have. They weren’t gluttonous monsters— like the other children had chanted at her— but special, extraordinary even.

Rangiku would give him a look, but Gin would just laugh.

He taught her that people like them could survive. He taught her how to lie, how to cheat, how to steal, how to fight for food, and eventually how to control spiritual energy.

Gin was a very good reason to be happy. He had seen this pitiful, dying creature and had nursed her back to health. He had been the reason that her life had sustainably improved. She was happy to have found Gin, though she didn’t smile constantly. Why was Gin so happy about?

“I don’t understand Gin. It’s so difficult for us to survive,” she said her voice tiny, briefly mentioning the spiritual energy. They needed to eat several times a day as opposed to other normal children that ate once every four days. This constant hunger meant they were always searching for food, especially with two beings of spiritual energy.

He looked up from his book. “You always think of stuff like that,” he gently scowled. “I told you it’s only a selected few that have spiritual energy. That means we must be special.”

Rangiku frowned. “Are you happy because you have spiritual energy then?”

His face scrunched for a moment. “I guess. But I would still be happy if I had no spiritual energy.”

“Then why are you happy?”

He sat up, carefully putting the book aside. Ever since he had gotten that book, he had been so meticulous over it, wrapping it with a rag and stuffing it under his robes. No dirt or water got on that book, and he absolutely refused to tear or dog-eared a page.

That book had caused him a huge bruise on his back when the bookstore owner had released that one of his books was missing. He had swatted Gin with a broom, harshly demanding for the book. Gin had been clever enough to talk his way out of it, while he handed the book to Rangiku. She had ran with the book, while Gin was being searched. But to Gin it had all been worth it.

When he finished wrapping the book, he looked up the grin on his face growing wider. “Because I have freedom.”

Rangiku stared at him, slightly confused. It seemed like such an unusual thing to say, since freedom had no relatively value. He held plenty of other reasons to be happy for. Like his intelligence and quick thinking, nothing as abstract as freedom.

Perhaps he noticed her puzzled face. “I’ll tell you a story okay?”

He didn’t wait for her response and immediately sat back in the hay, the smile on his face not as intense but still there. It looked as though he were thoughtful instead of the usual smiling face.

“There was this boy that I knew, who wasn’t free. He was born into a peasant family, where they worked on the fields tending to their crops. His parents weren’t so rich or so poor that they couldn’t’ afford food. But the boy was born with spiritual energy, so it was putting a strain on their food supply.

“The land was already becoming barren and whatever crop that the land produced was given to the boy. Because of this, the village disliked the family. To them they were hogging all the food, but I think they were just jealous. They were jealous and afraid because that boy had something they did not. The boy had power and potential, unlike them that would always be stuck tending to their fields.”
Gin sighed, the brief passion in his eyes disappearing just as suddenly. Rangiku continued to listen.

“Eventually the family became ashamed of their son. They began to think of him as a burden and a disgrace, until finally they hid him in the house. He was imprisoned in his home, away from the eyes of the neighbors. Rules were established, just for him, so no one could see him.

“He wasn’t allowed to go outside, except if it was dark, even then they had to make sure no one was outside. He was given house chores and after he was done, he was to remain quiet and still and ordered not to attract attention from the neighbors. These rules helped insure the family’s survival, so of course if one tiny rule was broken, for whatever reason, there would be a harsh punishment.

“But the boy didn’t want to follow these rules. He was bored and he was curious of what the world had to offer him. He was curious of his spiritual energy and wanted to learn more about it, but that was out of the question. His parents opposed so much as speaking about his spiritual energy, there was no way they would allow for books and pay for school.

“So the boy was imprisoned in his home, wanting and yearning to know more about himself. He was tired of following these stupid rules, but he was forced to follow them, otherwise, he wouldn’t be fed. But then things changed.

“His father was a blacksmith- constantly pounding on metal with a heavy hammer that thundered throughout his messy workshop room- while his mother tended the crops. These two people fought over the most trivial things, everything from their disgraceful son, to the fields, to money, to everything. These two hated one another, and slowly their marriage was falling apart.

“One spring a new neighbor moved in, young and pretty with full lips that lit up her face whenever she smiled. She talked sweetly to his father, but viewed his mother with distaste. Over time, his father spent less time in the house and though the arguments stopped, his mother grew angrier and hateful.

“It was the tenth of November when some kids discovered the body of the young, pretty neighbor floating in the river. It was reasoned that she slipped on the muddy banks and hit her head on a rock, while she was collecting some herbs. No one thought any different, but that night while the boy was finishing his dinner, he heard his parents arguing again. He figured it was just one of their usual arguments until he heard the name of the young, pretty neighbor. Curious despite himself at the strange circumstances around her death, he viewed through the keyhole at the door.

“His mother was angry, mentioning infidelity while his father accused her as the murder. Of course, she denied any foul play but the father was adamant. He stormed off then, racing to his shed in the back. The boy followed, hiding in the shadows.

“The angry screams continued until finally the husband picked up his prized hammer and repeatedly pounded on her head, as hard as when he shapes metal. He continued to pound harder and harder, the hatred finally showing its ugly head. There was a wild look in his eyes as he continued to pound the hammer against her skull. He did not stop as the blood continued to pour out of her head, like water, as the fluids from the eyes erupted, as her nose shattered into pieces.

“He didn’t stop until he finally broke through the hard skull, and was pounding on the pink brain. The folded tissues of the brain, splattering on the floor like pudding. He would have continued hammering if only he hadn't been too tired to continue.

“It took him a moment to realize what he had done, and the father cried out in remorse. He was crying not because he had killed his wife and his lover was dead. He cried because his hammer was stained with her blood and the blood wouldn’t come off. He scrubbed madly for hours, and still the blood would not come off. It was forever stained on the black iron hammer, a testament to the crime had had committed.
“This was his only hammer, his prized tool as a blacksmith. He couldn’t afford to buy a new one- they had no money and plenty of debts. How was he supposed to make a day’s living without his tools? He had no work. No means of supporting himself.

“He yelled at the dead body of his wife. Screaming like a madman at what she had done, but his wife was dead and the dead cannot talk. For once his wife was silent, she would not argue with him.

“It was his silence that angered him most. So he busied himself with tying a knot, his hands still red, covered with the blood of his wife. When the knot was tied tightly he placed it over the highest point of the shed. A stool was sought for next and when the noose was securely over his neck, he kicked away the stool. For a moment he struggled as gravity pushed him down but then there was the sound of a loud crunch as the neck snapped. The eyes rolled on the back of his head and slowly the body became still. He would follow his wife to hell, so he could yell at her for staining his hammer with her blood.

“Imagine the surprise of the boy! He had been peaking through the window, and watched everything. He had seen his father brutally murder his mother and witness his father hanging himself. Imagine his surprise Rangiku!”

Gin stood up, wildly pacing throughout the room. There was an almost manic look on his face as he continued to pace about the room, talking to himself. “The boy was free! There were no more rules to hold him down. The hammer had pounded away the rules so now there was nothing left but the broken pieces, just like the skull of his mother. Now there was no one holding him back. Both his parents were dead. He could travel the world and finally satisfy his curiosity! He was free.”

He stopped then, panting from his great excitement. He looked over at Rangiku, expecting a show of jubilation. Rangiku, however, had her mouth opened in horror.

Is the expense of another human being, reason to be happy? The boy had gotten his freedom but he had witnesses the death of both his parents in one night. Despite the horrible attitude of the boy’s parents, they were still his parents. They were the people that had given life to him, that had fed and protected him.

Rangiku had always craved for the love and warmth that only a parent could offer. She couldn’t understand how anyone could be happy at the prospect of being an orphan. She couldn’t understand how someone would greedily look at what they parents had left behind, instead of mourning for them.

What sort of deranged, psychopath individual would that be?

“What the matter Rangiku?” Gin asked noticing her pale face. The smirk on his face widened. It suddenly looked creepy. “Did I scare you?”
“Y-yes,” she answered truthfully feeling a rash of goose bumps on her arm that had nothing to do with the cold.

Gin laughed, his laugh mixing in with the creaking of the barn and the cowing of the barn animals; outside the wind howled, pounding angrily against the barn door, like a hammer. He picked up the book, carefully unwrapping it. Like all other nights, he would probably be up all night reading it.

“Don’t be. It's a story with a happy ending.”

Fic: Nicknames and Blankies

Mon, 28 Sep 2009 22:53:16 GMT

Title: Nicknames & Blankies
Characters: Hinamori, Hitsugaya, mentions of Masumoto
Rating: PG-13
Warning: groping, language, OOC? No pairings
Disclaimer: This as well as all subsequent chapters was written for pure entertainment. Bleach and its characters belong to their respective owners.

His teal eyes widen in complete utter astonishment. His lower lip trembled until, gradually, his entire body shook. Instantly, he recognized this mild violent state of emotion, and he clutched his fist in a pitiful attempt to control his manners.

“See I knew you’d like it Hitsugaya-kun!” Hinamori answered, mistaken the sheer look of horror in Hitsugaya’s face to one of glowing bliss. She giggled, resuming her seat. “Remember Hitsugaya-kun when you’d—”

But Hitsugaya wasn’t listening to Hinamori’s stories. Somehow his brain froze into a complete halt, and all he could register was the drawn out blanket Hinamori held in front of him.

It was an adorable white blanket, soft and cuddly with cute blue penguins and swirling snowflakes. Though it was freshly washed and ironed, it showed signs of being slightly battered- the edges ripped as though it had been frequently chewed.

“—and then you cried and cried until Granny finally held you and rocked you to sleep.” Hinamori finished. “Look you can still see you’re name.”

In the corner of the blanket, stitched in green thread and ever so eye-catching was the name ‘Shirou-chan.’

“Hinamori put it away!” he blurt out. Immediately his mind moved into full gear, images of horrific scenarios flashing in his mind—of which strangely involved Ukitake-taichou cooing and brutally pinching his round cheeks.

“Oh what's the matter, Shirou-chan? Don't you like blankie anymore?” she asked, tilting her head in the side. His face reddened, burning hotter than a furnace.

“Don't call me that!” he spat out trying to yank away the blanket, put Hinamori giggled stretching the blanket in front of him. “Don’t worry Hitsugaya-kun, I made special care to wash blankie.”

He willed himself to breathe. “Please put it away Hinamori. I don't want anyone—”

And then at that precise moment at that exact instant of time, Masumoto walked in, three hours late as usual. An excuse was about to roll off her tongue, when her eyes suddenly caught sight of the blanket. In one fluid motion, she yanked the blanket from Hinamori's hand, squealing how utterly cute it was, while pressing it against her cheek.

“What a cute blanket! Is this yours Hinamori?”

“Ah no!” the brown-eyed girl responded. “I was helping Granny spring cleaning when I found this!” Hitsugaya buried his face underneath his arms, willing to hide the glowing blush, against his desk.

“It’s Hitsugaya-kun’s…”

He promptly slammed his head to the desk. So much for spending the first five years of his captaincy acting like an adult, blankie here was going to wipe it all in a second.

Suddenly he was jerked from his seat and shoved into something quite soft.

“Aww... taaaichou you must have been sooo cuute as a baby!” Masumoto cooed, squeezing the air out of him in her famous bone-crushing hugs. “And did you drag blankie everywhere?”

“No!” he answered in out rage, roughly pushing Masumoto away.

“Oh but Rangiku-san you should have seen Hitsugaya-kun as a baby! He was always crying and so fussy, but Granny had lots of patience. She made him that blanket after we realized that Hitsugaya-kun loved the snow. Ever since then he went everywhere with that blanket and he would even bite anyone that took it away from him.”

“That’s enough you two—” he responded threateningly.

But Hinamori seemed too absorbed with the memory and Masumoto encouraging smile certainly didn’t help. Hinamori giggled once again as an old memory resurfaced. “I remember this one time Hitsugaya-kun used his blanket to make a little sailboat—”

“Hinamori,” Hitsugaya butted in. If that story every got out, he could just as well kiss his dignity good bye. “Don't you have some work?”

Her eyes lit in recognition. “That's right! I still have to finish my reports.”

“No! Don’t go Hinamori!” Masumoto cried out, grabbing a hold of the girl’s hand. She was dying to hear her adorable taichou’s baby stories, but Hinamori took her responsibilities seriously and tardiness didn’t do to well in her book.

“Sorry Rangiku-san. I’ll tell you some other time.” She released the hold of her hand and gathered the two bento boxes she and Hitsugaya-kun had been eating for lunch.

“Bye-bye, Hitsugaya-kun,” Hinamori said, kissing him before waving good-by—Hitsugaya muttering a weak bye—and closing the door behind her, the two bento boxes clutched in her other hand.

The young captain turned around about to tell Masumoto off for arriving late when his eyes narrowed in realization that Masumoto still clutched the blanket—a slight pout on her face at having missed an opportunity of fun.

“Give it,” he ordered, holding out his hand. But a mischievous grin broke through Masumoto’s face and she held the blanket away from him.

Again Hitsugaya tried, but each time his fukutaichou yanked the blanket away, causing him to hop up and down for dear blankie. Though it was amusing for her, Hitsugaya quickly lost his patience. “Masumoto I’m serious! GIVE IT TO ME!”

“Why taichou? You weren’t so thrilled when Hinamori—Hey!” Her face scowled as Hitsugaya gripped the blanket on the other end. Immediately, she heaved the blanket in her direction and her captain did likewise. Back and forth they went, stuck in their little game of tug-of-war. But then a slight ripping sound echoed in the air and Hitsgaya dropped the blanket as though it burst into flames.

Quickly Masumoto examined the blanket, sighing in relief and reassuring him there was no significant damage.

“That’s good—not that I care or anything,” he answered indifferently. “Alright Masumoto you’ve have your fun now give it back.”

“But I thought you didn’t care about poor old blankie,” she responded taking extra care to say blankie.

“But I’m sure Hinamori would like it back,” he retaliated. “I'm gonna give it back to her.” Masumoto didn't believe that horrible lie. At once she scrambled about the room; alarmed, Hitsugaya chased about her shouting to give it back and nearly tripping a handful of times. For a minute both commanding officers of the Tenth Division were in a fit of scurry and shoving as they fought for the blanket.

Masumoto was adamant about keeping the blanket and Hitsugaya was just as adamant in getting it back. “I order you to give it back!” He yelled as he landed roughly on floor, nearly missing the corner of his desk.

“No!” Masumoto laughed throwing a set of books and paperwork along his path, to deter him. But with a quick flash step, Hitsugaya was behind her, moments away from snatching the blanket until Masumoto darted, disappearing into a flash step to her unused desk.

“It's not even yours!” Hitsugaya roared, tackling her to the ground in a hit of furry. Both rolled on the floor for a moment, throwing Masumoto's unfinished paperwork in the air.

“Oww! Taichou that hurt!” Masumoto groaned from the floor, clutching her head. She gasped then, realizing that her taichou was about to scramble out the door with the blanket in hand.

Masumoto yanked his foot, and he fell down in a gruff. “What the hell Masumoto?” he groaned at her added weight on top of him. “Get off me!”

With a grunt both of them rolled on the floor, biting and scratching one another until Hitsugaya’s white haori got caught on the chair and Masumoto leaped up victorious, laughing at her taichou’s disheveled state.

“Poor taichou,” she jeered, holding the blanket in front and heading for the front door.

“Masumoto, if you take a foot outside this office you are so dead. I'm serious.”

In a mad motion she ran towards the front door and tripped on the couch, landing on the floor.

“Gimme it,” Hitsugaya answered free from his white haori, simply wearing black robes.

Her gray eyes sprinted about, searching for an escape, refusing to accept how utterly trap she was. “C’mon taichou I was only going to take care of it,” she said defensively. Hitsugaya snorted already imagining Masumoto displaying the blanket to the girls of the Shinigami Women’s Association and announcing a day dedicated to their captain’s earlier years.

“Honestly I was! Hey have I every mentioned what a wonderful, smart, compassionate, tall captain you are?”

“Masumoto—”

She blinked a few times before gasping out in surprise. “Oh my gosh taichou! I think you grew an inch! Seriously! Look over there when you were about to tackle me to the floor, you were almost as tall as the third shelf.”

“That’s not going to work Masumoto.”

“You’re right taichou,” Masumoto answered flat on the floor, her blonde hair spilled out on the tatami mats. “Now that I think about it—you seem slightly shorter,” she said making extra care to stress the word before gasping in shock. “I knew you shouldn’t have drunk that cup of coffee! Oh no taichou you’re shrinking!”

“What?” he asked mortified, about to run to his desk and pull out his measuring stick. His logic took a couple minutes to catch up with him. “People don’t shrink Masumoto!”

It didn’t matter. Masumoto had hastily shoved the blanket in her bosom, where he would surely never go searching for it.

Hitsugaya cursed himself for falling once again into one of Masumoto’s stupid ploys. She knew that he had a secret obsession with his height, and so she used this weakness as an advantage.

“If you don’t mind taichou, I’d like to get up and start on my work.” She smiled satisfactory, recognizing her triumphant.

His face darkened. Hitsugaya had been possessive over that blanket, ever since he was a baby. He had bitten strangers with his two front teeth when he was a baby until he learned that pulling hair and poking eyes was much more effective. Then when he was older he learned how to punch and kick, screaming ear-pitching cries that would make anyone in the vicinity utterly deaf.

So it came to no surprise when Hitsugaya reached underneath his vice-captain’s uniform for his beloved blanket. However, it did come to a surprise when Yamamato-soutaichou walked in for a surprise visit.

“It has happened. It has finally happened! Our lovely Rangiku has managed to bewitch the cold hearted Tenth Division captain!”

Hitusgaya glared at his fellow colleague. He had emerged from the commander-general’s office when Kyoraku-taichou from the Eighth Division just happened to be around.

The younger boy didn’t believe the older man’s alibi—‘I was just turning in this week’s paperwork when I heard a curious discussion.' After all everyone in Seririte knew that it was Ise-fukutaichou that took care of her division’s paperwork. Kyoraku simply drank and flirted with women.

“Kyoraku-taichou don’t you have something important to do?” Hitsugaya even hoped the Eighth Division captain would go off drinking with his pals, just so he would stop bothering him. Anything to get him far, far away.

“Ah! But this is important Hitsugaya-kun,” he responded a smirk on his shaggy features.

“No, it isn’t,” he interrupted. He made a left, heading to Seirirte’s Main Library, reasoning that the older captain would be scared away, but still the older man trailed behind, like some annoying quaking goose.

“Why of course it is! You have the most beautiful woman—”

“Seriously Kyoraku don’t you have anything better to do?” Hitsugaya asked, his hand on the doorknob to the library. He yanked it open, half expecting Kyoraku to make some pitiful excuse and wander away, but to his surprise the older captain continued to follow.

Whatever he had to say was important enough to enter a library.

The library was enormous, filled to the brim with tall shelves that almost reached the ceilings. To the left were a number of desks, where one could study or perhaps work, while on the opposite sat a stern looking librarian stamping books. She looked up when the two captains entered the library, before turning back to her books.

Hitsugaya dashed into a random shelf, pretending to look at the titles, but to his avail Kyoraku caught up to him. He quickened his pace, moving deeper and deeper into the library, but the captain continued to follow vigilantly.

The older man chuckled. “Now Hitsugaya-kun, there’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s perfectly natural. You see when you reach a certain age—”

Forget it. What Kyoraku had to sav was anything but important, it was stupid complete stupidity! Hitsugaya groaned tired of hearing about puberty. The commander-general had given him the talk a few minutes ago, wasn’t that painful enough? Now he had to hear it again from Kyoraku?

He picked up a random book—something about advanced healing kidou for intensive fire burns—hiding his face behind it. “I get it okay!” he hissed, hiding his flushed face.”I don’t need you giving me an explanation. Listen what happened was an accident—an accident! I didn’t mean to grope Masumoto.”

“Hitsugaya-kun what’s all this about?” a sweet voice whispered from behind. He could have hit himself on the forehead.

Hinamori held a bundle of notebooks and heavy books, looking very much like your typical academy student, except with a fukutaichou’s badge strapped on her arm.

“It’s nothing Hinamori,” he reddened again hiding his face behind the book. There was some gross looking picture about fire burns and quick incantations to lessen the pain.

“I’m sorry you had to hear it this way Hinamori-kun,” Kyoraku piped in. “But Yami-ji had just given a rather stern lecture about sexual harassment to Hitsugaya-kun. It appears that—”

“Would you shut up!” Hitsugaya yelled his voice echoing in the empty library and causing two heavy looking books to clash rather loudly against the floor. Silently he cursed, realizing that hiding in the library was not a good idea. “Look Masumoto and I were just messing around—”

Her face transformed into mortification. “Not like that!” he reddened, throwing aside the book he had been hiding behind.

Kyoraku chuckled but then stifled a cough when Hitsugaya shot a nasty look at him. He then busied himself with the task of picking up Hitsugaya’s discarded book of kudo spells for intensive fire burns.

“Masumoto was being stupid and she was holding b-b-b….” his sentence trailed off in realization that Kyoraku stood reading a book—no less. Besides the bizarre conditions, Hitsugaya knew that the Eight Division captain was very much attentive.

And if he knew about his secret blankie then there was no doubt that he would be babbling away to all of Soul Society in one of his drinking sprees.

“—something important,” he decided to conclude. “She hid it so I got it back.”

Hinamori didn’t understand what this important thing was. In her mind’s eye nothing could be rational enough to stick your hand in a woman’s blouse. Now that Hitsugaya thought about it, it was pretty shameful on his part.

“That’s no way for someone to behave towards a young lady!” Hinamori said, hastily stomping away.

“Hinamori—”

“That was improper of you Hitsugaya-kun!” she shot back, dumping her books on a desk and sitting down on the chair. Hinamori was the type of person that really cared about other people. Though she was small, she could stand up to anyone if there was some form of wrong doing, especially towards one of her friends.

“I know.” She turned her shoulder against him, opening a massive book, pretending to ignore him. “See she took…” he paused and glanced about him. They were in a secluded section of the library and Kyoraku continued to stand by the bookshelves, reading over that kidou book.

He figured it would be safe to say. “Masumoto took Blankie.”

“What?” she perked up at the name of his baby blanket. He made a face, as though he had suddenly spoken into a microphone. Hinamori giggled.

“Oh Hitsugaya-kun I knew you still liked blankie!”

“Shh…” he glanced behind his shoulder as though some assassins were lurking nearby. “I was only trying to get it back, you understand, right Hinamori?”

Again she giggled. It certain looked as though her anger towards him had dissipated because she smiled brightly. Immediately she began recalling an old story—how she once used blankie for a picnic blanket and Hitsugaya came storming in, kicking all her dolls and breaking her teacups, yelling that she couldn’t use blankie like this!

“And then you wouldn’t even apologize, even when Granny told you to.”

He pressed his fingers to his temples, rubbing them to relieve the stress. Why did Hinamori do stuff like this?

Sure they were raised together and were practically brother and sister, but why did she insist on embarrassing him? Couldn't she understand that as a captain he had a certain reputation to keep?

Then again these things just bypassed Hinamori.

For instance on the very first day of the academy, Hinamori had accidentally called him Shirou-chan in front of his class. The students were all in their Fifth Year, much older and taller than he was, and in the beginning they had been particularly rude toward him—more so because they couldn’t believe that a kid like him could be in their class.

Thanks to Hinamori and her stupid nickname, the entire class had been partially confirmed that he was still a kid. Even worse was when Hinamori shuffled his hair, handed him his lunch box, saying that he had forgotten it.

Many of them rolled about in laughter until his spiritual energy dropped to significant levels and the entire classroom became a freezer.

“It wasn’t until… eck! Aizen-taichou!”

She seized her blabbering and shot up straight from her seat. Aizen, captain of the Fifth Division, held a handful of books and documents. He smiled pleasantly when he noticed Hinamori bowing her head and Hitsugaya sitting causally on a chair.

“Ah hello Hitsugaya-kun, Hinamori-kun.”

“Good afternoon Aizen-taichou!” Hinamori blurt out, flushing slightly at her overly loud voice. “You’ve been coming so frequently to the library, Aizen-taichou, are you planning on writing another book?”

“Oh no,” he answered setting the books aside. “It’s only for light reading.”

They talked for a few moments on the books he had chosen—Hinamori taking every word as though it were water. Hitsugaya was just about to excuse himself when Aizen turned to look at him.

“How have you been Hitsugaya-kun? It’s been so long since I last saw you.”

“It’s Hitsugaya-taichou,” he corrected. Aizen smiled apologetically. “And I’ve been fine thank you.”

“Is that so? A couple rumors have been going around that the commander-general had a long talk with you—something about your vice-captain?”

“What?” he exclaimed completely forgetting his manners. Rumors were already spreading because of that unfortunate incident with Masumoto?

Hitsugaya cleared his throat, forcing himself into an indifferent state. “I can assure you Aizen those rumors are totally bogus.”

“That’s what I thought too, but Ichimaru-taichou confirmed it himself.”

‘Bastard,’ he thought imagining the stupid grin on his face. Didn’t he have anything better to do than listen on other people’s private conversations and snoop around the place? Damnit he hated that man and he was pretty sure he hated him as well, otherwise he wouldn't be making his life even more difficult.

“Oh but Hitsugaya-kun told me all about it. You see Rangiku-san took Hitsugaya-kun’s favorite blanket,” Hinamori answered still oblivious that mentioning your baby blanket was a big no-no.

“This is over a baby blanket?” Aizen asked slightly amused.

“Of course not,” Hitsugaya answered defensively.

“That’s what Hitsugaya-kun told me anyway,” Hinamori explained. “I went to Roukongai this weekend and I found Hituagay-kun’s old blanket that our grandmother knit for him when he was a baby…”

Hitsugaya flushed. See, why did Hinamori continuously embarrass him? Especially around other captains? He was supposed to be an adult, he was supposed to be her superior but she continuously insisted on treating him as her baby brother. The anger was suddenly too much.

“No one wants to hear about your stupid stories Bedwetter Momo!”

He realized the huge mistake as soon as he blurted that out. The last two words lingered in the air, magnifying itself in intensity and strength.

Hinamori turned three different shades of red.

Having grown up with Hinamori, Hitsugaya was surprised that she acted so timidly. Normally she would stand on the tip of her toes, puff out her chest and yell out indignantly at him. But this time Hinamori shrunk in her chair, a completely look of mortification on her face.

He realized with a sort of guilt that Aizen still stood there and that he really had embarrassed Hinamori. She had tried so hard to get Aizen’s attention and all that hard work seemed a waste now that word of her nocturnal enuresis got out.

“Aizen-taichou that’s n-n-not true! I was never a bedwetter!” Hinamori burst out her cheeks burning red.

Aizen chuckled. No doubt the older man was trying to play it off with ignorance but it certainly wasn’t going too well. He picked up his books and bid them good bye, still feigning ignorance.

But this didn’t seem to console Hinamori in the slightest. She rounded on him her round face, flush with fury. “Hitsugaya-kun how could you!”

“What?”

“Now Aizen-taichou thinks I’m a bedwetter!”

“Well it's true isn’t it?”

“No it isn’t!” she said indignantly, picking up her books. “It’s all because of you and your horrible prank!”

“Hinamori—” he began trying to calm her down but she was clearly upset. “I’m never going to talk to you again!” she said childishly, slamming her books and stomping away.

Hitsugaya blinked at her retreating form. Hinamori wasn’t ever going to talk to him?

He leaned back in his chair. Well that went well, now she wouldn’t be off babbling her embarrassing stories.

“Excuse me Hitsugaya-kun but I just happened to hear about some inappropriate behavior.”

He whirred his head to see a very scary Ise Nanao and a cowardly Kyoraku-taichou behind her.

‘Damn she really is scary!’ Hitsugaya thought, understanding why both Kyoraku and Masumoto feared this petite woman so much.

Fic: Veiled Foe

Sat, 18 Oct 2008 04:30:17 GMT

Title: Veiled foe
Characters: Aizen, Hitsugaya, Hinamori
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, violence, slight OOC?
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing!

Yamamato's cane echoed, harsh yet short, as it struck the wood floor. All eyes drew upon him.

The day had come when the Gotei-13 would be complete. Urahara's treason stripped away the few captains present, however one by one each position had been slowly filled until only one remained vacant. Since the death of the Tenth Division's captain decades ago, no possible candidate had risen and it had remained so until the rumors started to flood in.

Another genius had been discovered with so much potential. He graduated with top marks and a shikai- something completely unheard off. Within months, he moved up the ranks from fifth seat into third, though he was not quite satisfied; and then only two years after his graduation from the Academy he sought out captaincy. Disagreement followed about his lack of experience, but he merely asked for his name to be put up into consideration.

They were not disappointed.

He was gifted and knowledgeable in the shinigami's four basic combats, responsible and from his position as third seat, a good leader. But perhaps his gifts were not what stood out this candidate the most; rather it was his zanpaktou the strongest of all ice-types, Hyorinmaru.

Hyorinmaru- a name that hadn't been heard in centuries- captured the interest of everyone, including Aizen himself. Many did not believe in the ice dragon, believed that it was all folktales and rubbish, but this new candidate squashed all those rumors and proved that Hyorinmaru did in fact exist.

“It is thus,” Yamamoto continued. “That I appoint Hitsugaya Toushirou as the captain of the Tenth Division.”

A child- a child that should be carefree and ignorant, oblivious of the world around him except his own little world of toys and friends- took a step forward. The haori was too big and too heavy, almost forewarning that a little boy could not take on such a big role. It was only with the reassurance of the long, deadly sword on his back that corroborated that this child should be in this room of adults.

“Thank you Yamamoto-soutaichou.”

Yamamoto struck his cane again. “Very well the Gotei-13 is finally complete. You are dismissed.”

Change was inevitable, Aizen knew this. People die and become replace, enemies become friends, the admire become the despicable, chaos rises and falls until it becomes order. The environment spun out of proportion and it needed to be supervised to assess whether this change could be defined as an opportunity or a threat. And Aizen pondered what part Hyourinmaru would be to his plans.

Kaname eyed him, his white eyes almost speaking to him on what to be done. “I'll deal with it,” he barely muttered, drawing his hands together and passing through- the message unnoticeable. Kaname nodded before continuing along, catching up to Komamaru. For a moment, he talked lightly with Ukitake- he was after all the captain that had recommended Hitsugaya. The older man spoke with pride of the boy, grinning that he had seen great possibilities when he first meet the boy in the Academy training grounds.

But his inquiry stopped when Aizen spotted Gin approaching the said genius. “Did ya' know I used to be the genius?”

Hitsugaya paused to look at him, a slight scowl on his face. “I know.”

Of course he would know. Years ago, Gin had been highly praised at having graduated in a mere year and obtaining a seated position so soon.

“But times have changed,” he agreed in nostalgic, his ever present smile changing for a moment before reappearing once again. “It took me decades of experience and training to become a captain and yet you did it barely comin' out o’ the Academy when many have spent years and years just tryin' to reach third seat. I'm sure that creates an awful set of friction, and distrust at having someone so young fill in such big shoes.”

“My age has nothing to do with my capacity,” he answered.

“I know that,” he smiled. “But I wonder how many people would take a kid serious?”

He narrowed his eyes at him before Gin broke out laughing. “I'm just kiddin' Ah hello Aizen-taichou!”

“Hello Ichimaru-taichou,” Aizen answered none pleased. Gin was curious by nature. He took his little walks, poking his nose into things that he didn't need to, and often time bringing suspicion onto himself. "Well I must be goin' Aizen-taichou, little taichou." He shuffled Hitsugaya's hair affectionately, ignoring the boy's distaste.

With a wave he left. One by one the other captain's filed out and soon enough Aizen was left alone with Hitsugaya. “I apologize on behalf of Ichimaru-taichou, he says things without thinking.”

Hitsugaya said nothing, no doubt upset about Gin's slide comment. The corridors were empty, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floors. Lamps hung on the walls, dimly lighting the polished floors and the old, yet dangerous sword. The guard, shaped as a four-pointed star, flickered under the light, the hilt a light blue, slightly contrasting the long, curved blue sheath. He had read that it was a beautiful and terrifying creature, easily controlling bodies of water, shaping the weather as it pleased, and indiscriminate creating ice anywhere.

“Aizen?”

The lack of suffix surprised him even more than Hitsugaya knowing his name.

"Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere,” he answered smiling pleasantly. Hitsugaya stood carefully watching him with his thin eyebrow raised.

“I see,” he responded continuing forward. “It seemed as though you were planning something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Most people first notice my age and then my zanpaktou. It almost seemed as though you were analyzing it.” Aizen froze at his easy comment.

“Ah yes. I spent years studying elemental zanpaktou and it is quite astonishing to see Hyorinmaru awaken from its long slumber.”

“Perhaps Hitsugaya-kun, you would care to join my for tea tomorrow afternoon? I would enjoy discussing more about Hyorinmaru.”

He paused. “Thank you for the invitation. I look forward to the conversation.”

The busy streets of Seririte came into view as the two captains finally descended the steps. “Taaaichou!” came a cheery voice. Masumoto waved, waiting for him by the foot of the steps. Hitsugaya's face grimed.

“Do you know Masumoto-san?” Aizen asked in amusement.

"My fukutaichou," he sighed. "That I personally picked."

“Oh... good afternoon Aizen-taichou,” she said respectfully, bowing her head slightly. He greeted her before bidding the two farewells. He watched as Masumoto hug her captain tightly, muttering how proud she was of him. Hitsugaya struggled within her grasp, warning her to not do that in public anymore now that they were commanding officers.

Yes, he reasoned the only threat was in Hyorinamaru not this little boy that had somehow ended up in an adult's world.

“Ah Hitsugaya-kun is here to see you Aizen-taichou.”

Aizen looked up from his notes, smiling in reassurance at his third seat. “Please let him in, Hinamori-kun.”

“O-of course!”

Within a moment, Hitsugaya appeared, arms crossed and the scowl still evident in his face. Aizen set his brush down, rising from his desk to greet the younger captain before leading him a bit further into the Fifth Division's tea houses, overlooking the gardens. The day was fairly warm with the approach of spring around the corner. Flowers began to bud, though the small chills continuously prevented them. They took a seat onto the cushions, while Hinamori left to fetch tea.

His gaze briefly fell upon Hyourinmaru. “You seem so interested in Hyorinmaru,” Hitsugaya stated. “Even more so than Kurotsuchi.”

“Yes, as I mentioned before I used to study the elemental zanpaktou. So it is quite exciting to see one. Do you mind if I-“

Hitsugaya glanced at him for a moment before sighing and drawing out the sword carefully handing it to him. The curve blade shone brightly against the light, even more dangerous than he had imagined. Aizen greedily took the sword, gripping the hilt tightly. It felt cold, despite the warm weather as though some invisible wind was picking up.

“Did you know that elemental zanpaktou were believed to have existed since the beginning of time?”

His left finger drew onto the blade, trying to make out the tiny inscriptions.

“According to legend,” Hitsugaya answered.

“It must have been difficult taming such a beast,” Aizen continued noticing how heavy the sword was. "Hyorinmaru is believed to be the wildest of all the elemental zanpaktou because of its size and its unlimited source of power. Terrible stories had been told how it crumpled mountains, caused blizzards, drowned villages with its tsunamis. It can manipulate solid ice, liquid water; even vapor from the air, in theory the entire atmosphere is its battle grounds.”

“In theory,” the younger captain answered taking back the zanpaktou and placing it in its sheath. Aizen blinked, preferring to have held the sword longer but said nothing else.

Hinamari returned that instant, setting down two tea cups and began to pour the green tea. The warm steam engulfed the senses as she carefully handed the cup to Aizen, slightly blushing in embarrassment as he thanked her. She stuttered something, without realizing the other cup by itself and bumping her elbow against it, dropping it onto the floor and shattering it into pieces.

“Ah I'm so sorry Hitsugaya-kun,” she apologized bending down to pick up the larger pieces. He pushed her hand away. “Baka! You'll cut yourself.”

“Sorry," Hinamori said meekly. "I'll go bring a spare.”

“And don't drop it!”

He hissed in pain as a rather sharp piece cut his finger, a large drop of blood oozing out. He drew his cut finger into his hand, Aizen helpfully handing out a handkerchief.

“Is she always this clumsy?

“Hinamori-kun? Not at all, she is actually the most hardworking shinigami in the entire division.”

He rolled his eyes.

Hinamori Momo was a pleasant girl, hard-working, loyal and naive. Aizen had met her as well as Abari and Kira, years ago when they were all in the Academy. It was a simply mission, killing a high-level hollow that had butted into a class field trip to the human world. He dealt with it quickly, but he never forgot her bright eyes, how she readily attended his lectures afterward, and how she trained and worked non-stop for his approval.

The three had entered his division, but over time he scattered these pawns only keeping Hinamori. She would be useful somehow, if not now then certainly in the future.

“Please don't be upset with her, she was probably nervous.”

Hitsugaya narrowed his eyes at him, as though trying to examine him. Aizen smiled.

Hinamori returned with a spare cup and began to pour the tea, once again pausing to gasp at the few drops of blood on the floor. “Did you cut yourself Hitsugaya-kun? I’m so sorry!”

“Its fine,” Hitsugaya answered taking a sip of the tea.

“It’s alright Hinamori-kun,” Aizen spoke noticing her troubled face. “It wasn’t a large cut or anything.”

She frowned, looking slight slummed. “I apologize, Aizen-taichou, Hitsugaya-kun.”

“Hinamori, its Hitsugaya-taichou!” he answered.

She blinked looking back at him, though his face wasn’t quite set on a scowl. “Oh that’s right!” she answered cheerily, her nervousness slightly at ease.

Several weeks later, a body was found rotting deep within the forest. It might not have been such a deal if it hadn’t been the body of a rich aristocrat, so naturally the Gotei-13 was sent to investigate.

Kyoraku had been the first in the scene and eventually gotten a lead to what could have caused this. It lead to a hideous hollow- pale as a sheet of paper with no face but a large hole that resembled a mouth with sharp teeth poking from it. Kyoraku had dealt with it easily but then another aristocrat went missing, his body found a few days later in a corn field.

The body was still preserved though the body was just as bad as the rotten corpse. Its eyes had been bloodshot red, hand palms an angry red, and mouth gagging open- salvia and vomit dry of its mouth.

“All seems accordin’ to plan, eh Aizen-taichou?” Gin asked stretching his arms. “Of course,” Aizen answered, studying the data of his latest experiment. It was still in the developing stage but from these recent statistics reports, progress had been running along smoothly.

“Why shouldn’t it go accordingly?” he asked. All his plans were perfect no flaws whatsoever.

“Ya know with lil’ taichou around,” he grinned, his closed eyes looking right at him.

Aizen snorted. “From what I’ve seen there is no doubt in my mind I can deal with Hyorinmaru.”

“No!” Gin laughed his throaty laughter cacophonous in the empty room. “Hyorinmaru is no threat,” he paused to look at him. “It’s the kid… lil’ Shirou-chan.”

Aizen scowled. “He’s a child.”

“I don’t know,” Gin answered the fox grin still on his face. “I’ve heard he’s pretty smart.”

He did not have time to question him further as a messenger popped in informing him of the newest victim. Upon arriving at the scene, Aizen stopped short noticing Hitsugaya- speak of the devil they would say- and his fukutaichou standing behind him. The dead hollow remained on the floor; its belly cut opened revealing greenish blood and unpleasant odors.

Hitsugaya was bent down onto to the floor, staring at the newest victim. It had been a female- young with thick black hair though spots of hair had been ripped, leaving behind the white color of her scalp.

“Hitsugaya-kun, I did not think you would be here.”

The younger captain looked up at him. “I asked the soutaichou last minute.”

“I see,” Aizen answered. He paused, Gin’s words haunting his head. “Perhaps you would let me deal with this case? This has been a rather violent-”

“Don’t worry about me,” Hitsugaya answered, walking a short distance to stare at the dead hollow, a glint of gold catching his eyes. “I’ve already solved it.”

The Tenth Division found the hollow’s nest a few kilometers off north from the second victim. The nest was hidden deep within a cave; making it rather difficult to notice it at first but Hitsugaya knew almost exactly where it was. In a matter of minutes the eggs were destroyed, the newborn hollows slaughtered, and all Aizen could do was watch.

“The hollow was not the creature Kyoraku- taichou defeated long ago rather that was the result of the victims. These hollows are nothing more than tiny larva that dig into the skull- causing the bloodshot eyes and ribbed hair. The individual struggles to fight against the hollow but ultimately fails and dies, only the ones with stronger reitsu is capable of surviving becoming the pale creatures. The victims’ vomit is free of food, showing that they did not to eat as often and thus had weak reitsu.

“Hitsugaya-taichou,” Yamamato asked interrupting his report. “What makes you believe that these pale creatures are not the hollows that we are searching for?”

“Because a hollow has no need to wear a wedding band,” he easily answered. “My division has personally dealt with the larva in the north but I believe that more of these creatures continue to exist. It does not seem likely that these larvas could travel so far. I believe that they have been manufactured and strategically distributed-”

“Enough!” the soutatichou spoke, striking his cane onto the floor. “I do not enjoy these speculations of a traitor within us.”

“My apologizes soutaichou, it was merely a theory of mine.”

Yamamato still looked highly upset, no doubt memories of Urahara’s previous hollowification experimentation coming into mind. “Kurotsuchi-taichou, Unohana-taichou, verify Hitsugaya-taichou’s assumptions. Afterwards, another meeting shall be call on the appropriate action. Dismissed.”

“Nice work there, lil’ taichou,” Gin smiled looking down at Hitsugaya. “That brain of yours sure is amazin’- take good care of it.” He laughed lightly at himself before continuing along.

Hitsugaya watched him, his eyes narrowing in distaste. “Hitsugaya-kun.”

He stopped descending down the steps and turned to view him. “I wanted to personally congratulate you on your contributions to this mission. Without you and you’re good decisions I’m sure it wouldn’t have been solved so quickly.”

“But it hasn’t been verified.”

“Yes but everything you’ve come up with makes perfect sense. I’m sure you’re correct with your reasoning.”

The boy looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you Aizen. I was somewhat hesitate that no one would consider my judgment, considering that it was all based on my personal observations and analyzes.”

“Really?” he asked. “You have such an excellent intuition and deduction. Perhaps you’ve heard this many times before, but you really do have a lot of potential.”

He thanked him once again before reaching the end of the steps, his fukutaichou quickly greeting him with a hug and eagerly asking what everyone thought about their superb performance. Aizen excused himself then, inviting Hitsugaya for tea whenever he had the chance. His pace quicken somewhat as he reached his personal quarters, his fingernails digging into his palm. At last he reached into his private quarters, locked the door carefully behind and entered his personal office.

Books aligned the walls, elegant brushes, maps and paintings. The windows were shut tightly making it slightly difficult to see, but he already knew who those two silhouettes were. “A-Aizen-sama.”

“That fool!” he screeched, taking off his glasses and smashing it against the wall, shattering into pieces. The pleasant thoughtful man never existed, he was nothing more than a string of lies and masks he set up for his own convenience. It had been a long time, since he ripped off his mask. But he was just so angry right now- a boiling hatred that had burst through- and he wanted to destroy something with his bare hands.

“That stupid boy!” he continued in his rage, tilting the bookshelf and bringing everything crashing down. “He ruined fifty-three years of research!”

He collapsed onto his seat, pushing all the contents off his desk in one swipe. Ink bottles staining the polish floor, while official looking documents becoming crumpled. “He destroyed my work, humiliating me in the process, how could I be best by a child!”

“Aizen-sama,” Kaname began hesitantly at a lost to what to say. “Why don’t you just kill him?”

“And cause suspicion after his remark.” He banged his fist onto the wooden desk. “Hyorinmaru was never the threat! It was that boy- that fucking boy!”

He gripped his brown locks of hair, tightly enough to pull the hair out. He couldn’t be hush, couldn’t be killed, and couldn’t be controlled. He had free will- knew when to follow the rules and follow orders, yet knew when to step away from authority and follow his own set of values. He trusted logic and reasoning, instead of foolish emotions. He was not blind and naïve, he knew that evil and corruption existed.

Hitsugaya was dangerous.

Perhaps more dangerous than his previous enemies. Aizen had not been able to see this new enemy until now and he cursed himself for not thinking farther ahead.

A soft echo of a laugh echoed in the room. “Ya sure are made mad, ain’t ya Aizen-taichou? But ya know, no one’s perfect just look for a flaw.”

Aizen was still upset the following morning and had called in sick. Hinamori came knocking on his front door asking if he was alright. “It’s just a slight headache, Hinamori-kun,” he said gently. “Nothing to get worried about.” She still looked troubled and held up a bag, filled with medicine she had gotten from the Fourth Division, insisting on making tea for him. He agreed halfheartedly, apologizing for the messy apartment but she shook it away, reasoning that he had been too busy lately.

“Hinamori-kun,” he asked having thought of their first meeting together. Hinamori was there and he realized she had been friendly towards Hitsugaya, and he had been somewhat overprotective of her, preferring to clean up the broken glass so she wouldn’t get cut. “Are you and Hitsugaya-kun siblings?”

“Huh? Oh not really. We were raised together in Roukongai.”

“Is that so? He acts so much like an older brother toward you.”

She blushed. “Hitsugaya-kun is a few years younger than me but I guess he does act more mature.” He thanked her for the tea and she smiled, urging him to get some rest.

Another meeting was called the following morning and it came to no surprise that all of Hitsugaya’s assumptions were correct. He spoke to him pleasantly, keeping that warm face and voice, while in the inside trashing madly and wanting to do nothing more than to break the boy’s neck.

“I guess you’ve cool down, eh Aizen-taichou?” Gin remarked noticing his usual demeanor.

“Yes I have,” he answered, having noticed Hinamori kiss Hitsugaya good bye- a tint of red appearing on his cheeks before he scowled at her- after delivering a freshly made bento box. “It’s time to move another one of my pawns.”

Fic: Precocious child

Thu, 04 Sep 2008 03:14:40 GMT

Title: Precocious child
Characters: Inoue, Hitsugaya, Masumoto
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing!

Orhime could only stare as Toushirou-kun's hand moved with a sort of assurance across the paper. Last night her physics book had gone missing and she spent a better part of the night looking- panicking- about that homework due on Monday. But just as she was preparing herself to climb the wet roof- she figured a bird might have flew in and stolen her book- Toushirou-kun held out her book the next morning, explaining that she must have mixed her book with his things.

“Thank you so much for finding it for me,” she had said hugging the book tightly. He merely shrugged his shoulders and sat on the cushions of the low-rising table to look over documents.

However, her happiness didn't last long as she began to stumbled on the first problem.

“You know...” Toushirou-kun began hesitantly noticing her. “If you want I can help you.”

“Ah but physics is really hard!” Orhime imposed. “And you’re busy with your homework, Toushirou-kun.” He ignored her, instead turned to face the ugly problem and quickly working to solve it.

“You should get 100 meters,” Toushirou-kun answered, briefly glancing to see if there were any mistakes. Orhime blinked, pulled out her calculator, and pressed a few buttons. She gasped when the screen blinked 100. “Wow, Toushirou-kun! You're so smart!” she clapped.

"Its no big deal," he answered, with that sort of tone that said he didn't deserve any praise. "See if you can do this one."

“Alright!” Looking down at the rather vexing word problem her face began scrunching up in confusion. “It’s similar to the one I just did,” he responded.

“Okay,” she said seriously, picking up her pencil and scribbling down formulas, while Toushirou-kun stared out the window watching the tiny droplets of water crash onto the glass.

It was raining outside, so there was nothing fun to do except being coped up inside and doing homework. What's worse Tasuki-chan had caught a cold, so she couldn't even come over as she usually did when they had homework. But so long as her friend felt better, Orhime felt that it was alright.

“Is this the answer?” she asked almost shyly. He turned from his window gazing to her work.

His teal eyes moved back and forth, reading it before nodding his head. She was absolutely ecstatic and jumped from her seat, hugging him tightly until she realized that he was struggling to be let go. “Sorry, Toushirou-kun!” she said sheepishly and he was gasping for air. “This is the first time I was able to understand physics.”

“Yeah, just make sure that doesn't happen again,” he muttered and she could see the tiniest tint of red on his cheeks. Orhime smiled as she came up with a new idea. “Since you helped me on my homework then I'll help you with yours.”

“Its paperwork,” he corrected. “And you don't have to help me or anything.”

“But you helped me out besides Rangiku-san already taught me!”

His face turned darkly as he found an explanation for his fukutaichou's’s punctuality in paperwork. The minutes passed by rather quickly and before she knew it her stomach was grumbling that it was time for lunch. She exclaimed that it was obviously time for a break and though Toushirou-kun wanted to finish as quickly as possible he agreed.

Immediately, Orhime set to work about the kitchen, pulling out a jar of honey, dill pickles and a loaf of bread, telling him that she was gonna make them sandwiches. She didn't understand why Toushirou-kun's eye was twitching; maybe he didn't like wheat bread?

“I'll just get some tea.”

“You sure Toushirou-kun? I could make you a sandwich, too,” she answered spreading the honey.

“Really its fine.”

The phone rang at that instant just as Orhime was figuring out a way to persuade him. Wiping her hands on a paper towel, she cheerfully greeted the person on the other line.

“Orhime?”

“Ah Rangiku-san! How are you? Toushirou-kun and I were just finishing our homework when we decided to take a break. Hey do you want a sandwich?”

“Your pickled honey sandwiches? Those were absolutely delicious!” she paused for a moment before whispering. “Orhime, is taichou around?”

She blinked, scanning her kitchen until she spotted Toushirou-kun trying exhaustively to reach the top cabinet, where the tea bags sat. “Hmm... he's busy.”

“Good,” the woman sighed. "Do you think you can pick me up? I went shopping and I found something I'm sure you'll absolutely love.” Rangiku-san loved to shop and Toushirou-kun did not. Despite their differences, things worked out- Rangiku-san agreed not to shop in front of him that is. She would often sneak away to go shopping after dealing with those annoying hollows, and then sneak back in- with her twenty or so bags. Toushirou-kun was none the wiser and since the paperwork got filled in and the hollows were dealt with he had no reason to question his fukutaichou's three hours disappearance when it should have been five minutes.

“Sure,” she agreed quickly taking note of Rangiku-san's location. “I'll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, you're the best Orhime,” she said happily. “And can you make sure taichou doesn't find out?”

“Don't worry, Rangiku-san, you can count on me!”

“Who was that?”

A yelp escaped her lips and she turned around to face the young captain. His arms were folded across his chest and his teal eyes carefully examining her as she set down the phone. “That was… uh… that was my mailman! Ran into traffic- really this is such bad weather!- and asked me if I would meet him to pick up my mail!”

“Really?”

“Yes. Yes! Poor Mailman-san being stuck in such bad weather.” For a good ten seconds he stared at her, and Orhime could do nothing but smile nervously in hopes that she didn’t seem at all suspicious.

“Humans are so weird,” Toushirou-kun concluded turning away from her. She sighed in content.

“Inoue.”

Another yelp escaped her lips.

“Would you stop doing that? It’s annoying.”

“Eh? Sorry.” She laughed to herself before realizing that Toushirou-kun was pointing to the cabinet. “Oh, you're too little to reach the cabinet,” she dawn in comprehension walking over to the cabinet and reaching for the tea bags.

Maybe it was just her but she could have sworn a bit of a draft entered the room.

“I mean... ” she said hurriedly, stringing up words together. “That’s not to say that you’re short or anything because you're not short at all Toushirou-kun! Nope your the opposite of short! You're tall... yeah you're tall for a grade school student... well not really... but definitely a kindergartner.”

“Oh no, I just used the taboo word didn't I? I'm sorry Toushirou-kun; I didn’t mean to call you short. Except its kinda hard not to call you short...”

“ALRIGHT I GET IT! I'M SHORT!”

Orhime gulped preferring to take out the kettle and boil the water. Within a few minutes the kettle hissed, emitting angry steam- a pour comparison to Toushirou-kun's outburst earlier. He poured the hot water in a cup, adding a tea bag.

“Aren't you going to meet the mailman?” he asked blowing on the soft swirls of steam that were rising from the cup.

“Oh yes. Well I probably shouldn't keep him waiting,” she said grabbing her purse and an umbrella. “I'll be back soon Toushirou-kun!” she said happily closing the door behind her.

The rain beat onto the cement floor. Overhead the clouds spun darkly, forbidding the sun from shining its rays and casting a sort of gloom throughout the streets. Streams of water trailed down to the sewer pipes, creating a soft trickling sound before it fell underground. Far a distance she could see the headlights of the bus, causing her to quicken her paces. The doors of the bus opened, blowing out a gush of warm air and tickling her nose. The ride was short and when she arrived she could see Rangiku-san holding a large umbrella and waving at her.

Immediately she was met with one of Rangiku-san's bone crushing hug. "Thanks for coming!"

"It's no problem..." she said fixing her hair slightly. "Ah... do you need me to help you carry something?" But she paused noticing that the older woman was not carrying the twenty or so bags that she usually did. In fact she was holding nothing but a small purse.

"C'mon I'll show you what I bought," she said happily grabbing a hold of Orhime's hand and dragging her along.

She led her across the street, passing a few restaurants that were empty because of the rain, a few boutiques, and one of two banks further down. A few people wandered about, wearing raincoats or carrying large umbrellas, and then disappeared into the safety of a building.The hem of her skirt was slight getting wet from the splashing water puddles. "Uh... where are we going, Rangiku-san?"

Orhime asked realizing that they were leaving the shopping center behind. At last a large glass building came into view, where many pretty and expensive cars were parked in front. She held open the door for her and they walked in to meet a short recipient that was busy talking on the phone. The recipient looked over at them before nodding her head and signaling them to continue.

Their shoes clicked on the smooth marble floor and as they continued along the room opened. It was a lobby- white and shining, despite the rain- and in the center were a row of very, very expensive looking cars. A few people, business people from the looks of it, walked about conversing with a salesperson. Again Rangiku-san grabbed her hand and went into the end of the rows, where a red sport car stood in display.

"Well what do you think?"

"It's a car."

"I know its a car," Rangiku-san said with a laugh. "Taichou taught me all that stuff!"

"Yeah..." Orhime asked, scratching her head. "I don't get it."

"Orhime, this is my car!" she said jumping up and down with excitement. "I talked with a salesman and he said all I had to do was sign a bunch of papers." At that moment a salesman walked in, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a black tie. He smiled warmly at Rangiku-san saying that the bank has agreed to give her a loan and asking her to follow him into his office where the finally documents would be signed.

"Wait Rangiku-san," Orhime said grabbing a hold of her arm. "I don't think this is a good idea. What if Toushirou-kun finds out? He'll be really mad." Suddenly his early out burst came into mind.

"I'll just tell taichou that this is your car."

"But I don't know how to drive."

"Eh?" and this time Rangiku-san looked slightly troubled. "I was hoping you knew." Orhime shook her head. "Don't you know?"

She paused.

"Oh well... I'm sure we can figure out between the two of us!"

Now the red lights were flashing that this was not a good idea but Rangiku-san kept brushing her off. They moved towards the back of the lobby, where a set of cubicles stood. The salesman lead them to his own, still smiling brightly as he started his computer and set to work on typing a few things. The printer buzzed to life and he pulled out the contract in front of her, ready to be signed.

"Can we test drive it first?" Rangiku-san asked not bothering to look at the length descriptions of the contract. "Of course! You just seemed so positive that you wanted this car. I'll be right back."

He left to grab the keys. "Stop looking so worry Orhime," she said shoving the mints that were on the desk into her mouth. She could see that her face was slightly pale, her hands trembling, as though she were about to stare death straight in the face- but that's a pretty bad analogy considering that Rangiku-san is a shinigami.

"You should be excited that you're getting a brand new car," she continued poking in the desk to find more mints. The fear didn't seize as Rangiku-san finally sat behind the wheel, and pulled her along the passenger's seat. She looked curiously at the interior, opening compartments and pushing buttons before pouting that this car was not working.

"You need to start it first," the salesman answered, flipping the pages of his chart to look at her license- not knowing that it was a complete fake. "Just turn the key." He stepped out watching from a distance. The sky overhead was still cloudy though the rain had finally stopped.

"Okay here we go!" she said happily looking at the empty streets and turning the key. There was a short rumble before both women yelled out in fear as the air conditioning, radio and window blades sprang to life.

"Please Rangiku-san let's not do this. This is very dangerous."

"Orhime I've got everything under control," she said confidently. "Now how do I stop those swiping-thingy?" she pointed on the window and began pushing all the buttons until she finally found the right one.

Orhime took in a breath, closing her eyes tightly as she rested her hand on the key and prepared to turn the engine on. Suddenly there was a sharp jab on the glass, the window rolled down and both women gasped as they saw Toushirou-kun standing there not at all pleased.

"Turn on that car and you are so dead."

After they were safely out of the car- Rangiku-san tried to escapd, blazed the engine in full strength and pressed the gas as hard as she could, not quite realizing that the car was a manual- Orhime ran over to Toushirou-kun and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Thank you, Toushirou-kun, thank you!"

"I-Inoue!" he yelled out struggling to be let go. "Sorry!" she said sheepishly noticing the slightest bit of red on his cheeks.

"Why couldn't you just get out?"

"The doors were locked!"

Toushirou-kun sighed. He turned to his fukutaichou and she attempted to put on the best smile she could. "Taichou! What a lovely surprise! Hey have I ever mentioned what a wonderful, smart, compassionate, tall captain you are?"

"Sucking up is not going to work Masumoto."

"I had to try," she sighed. "But seriously taichou I was going to buy that car for Orhime."

"You were going to do WHAT?"

They left the car dealer at once. Toushirou-kun telling the salesman as politely as he could that they were not interested any more. The salesman tried to persuade him but he made the unfortunate mistake of calling him short- "You seem a bit short for a nineteen-year-old." The entire building shook in terror at the harsh yelling of Toushirou-kun and the poor salesman was left whimpering underneath his death, nursing a broken shin bone.

"Masumoto, you were just about to buy a car that you can't afford, you can't drive, and you definitely cannot take back home," he sighed tired of yelling. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on through you're mind."

"Ah taichou it was a pretty car and the salesman was really nice; I just got pulled in."

"He's a a salesman, he gets a commission for selling as many cars as he can!"

"But he gave us a free coffee mug," Orhime added.

"Yeah so you could take out a 23 percent APR auto loan."

He paused as he looked both ways before crossing the streets- the sun finally beaming through the cloudy sky. Puddles covered the streets as they traveled further and further along to the bus stop. Both women collapsed on the bench, tired from the long walk, while Toushirou-kun stood by the post waiting for the bus.

"Toushirou-kun how did you find us anyway?" Orhime asked. He pulled out his cell phone. "Besides tracking hollows, this also tracks our whereabouts. I figured you were taking too long getting your mail from 'Mailman-san,'" he said sarcastically. "So you must be helping Masumoto hide all the useless things she bought."

"I do not buy useless things"

"Masumoto you do not need a stuffed squirrel." She pouted at him. "It was cute!"

"Ah wait a second!" Orhime spoke out. "Does that mean you knew all along that Rangiku-san was shopping?"

"Yeah. But when I found out that both of you were walking into a car dealer, I knew no good could come out of it. Masumoto driving would be a complete menace to society."

"You're so mean taichou! If I had a car then we wouldn't have to be waiting for the bus and we could have gotten Orhime's mail from Mailman'san! Besides I was going to let you drive it."

"But Rangiku-san, Toushirou-kun is too short to reach the brakes," Orhime said pointing her index finger to her chin and thinking. "He probably needs a little bicycle... no a little tricycle! They're so cute for preschoolers."

Both women talked for a moment about tricycles and stuffed squirrels before Orhime suddenly told Rangiku-san that she finally gotten a hang of physics and telling her that she found a new recipe for making honey-pickled sandwiches which included adding a bit of garlic. Still Orhime couldn't quite understand why Toushirou-kun's eye were twitching, maybe he wanted the bus to hurry up?

Fic: Stranger's Insight

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 20:03:13 GMT

Title: Stranger's Insight
Characters: Ichigo, Hitsugaya
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing!

With a soft breeze tickling his orange hair and the sun beating on the streets, it seems that no wrong could befall. But then again, Ichigo can't get this nagging feeling off his mind.

Since the entire betrayal of that Aizen-guy, apologizes and expressions of remorse had been given to Rukia; and all of a sudden the destructive ryoka that had caused terror and panic were suddenly heroes. It was a nice feeling since he had somehow always gotten used to that punk attitude he always carried around.

When he mentioned this out loud Ishida- as usual- didn't exactly agree. "Everyone thinks we're some types of heroes but everything that happened was really the combined efforts of many individuals."

Ichigo grumbled because really Ishida didn't have to ruin his good mood like that.

"Kurosaki, could you really fight all of Soul Society by yourself?"

Ichigo thought about it and realized that though he might have the will he just couldn't possible fight all of Soul Society; and then what of the aftermath? How would they be able to open a portal to the living world? Would more shingami follow them to the living work? Would Rukia quit nagging and let him rescue her?

In the end he realized that though he might beat Soul Society now, he'd have to spend the rest of his life watching his back for Soul Society.

He sought out Ukitake-san since Byakuya still wasn't awake. The old man laughed slightly assuring him that he had only done what he could for his subordinates.

"Ukitake-taichou is so modest!" Kiyone and Sentarou had said in unision. Ichigo left at that moment after seeing the shining stars in their eyes.

Eventually he sought out Unohana-san next to personally thank her for discovering the truth. But Unohana-san just smiled warmly at him and said that really she hadn't done much that she had merely spoken out the truth to everyone.

She said it was Hitsugaya-taichou that really should be credited for investigating the strange circumstances surrounding Rukia's execution and what's more to attempting to stop Aizen single handedly.

"But he's still in the hospital as of now and I would hate for him to be disturbed," she said in an overly sweet tone.

Ichigo merely smiled thinking damn didn't she suddenly get much, much scarier and saying he would visit when he was realized.

So he spent a week in Seririte, messing around with Renji and avoiding Kenpachi like the plague. "Hey Renji," he asked one afternoon after they finished a spar. Ikkaku was with them, lazing under the shade of a tree and occassionally spluttering nonsense. "What do you know of this Hitsugaya?"

"The genius?" he asked after setting his zanpakuto down. "He's the Tenth's captain."

"Genius?" Ichigo questioned. Already his mind pictured an Ishida figurer with large glasses and an obnoxious attitude.

Ikkaku rolled his eyes. "Why are you worrying about a shrimp? If anything watch out for his fukutaichou. Oi who drank all the booze!" he roared, throwing the empty bottle on the floor. "Go buy me some more Ichigo!"

"What the hell!" Ichigo roared back.

"Fine we'll have to fight over it!"

The fight ended too soon though as Kenpachi appeared behind them, chuckling evilly that at last he would get his rematch. Ichigo ran and ran until he bumped into Inoue.

"Ah Kurosaki-kun I was just looking for you! Ukitake-san just told me that Hitsugaya-taichou was released. I heard you wanted to visit him," she said cheerfully.

"Yeah," he mumbled trying to catch his breath.

"I'll go with you!" she said eagerly, following step behind him.

It took quiet some time to get to the Tenth Division's office doors, including corridors and corridors of maze, annoying receptionist and Kenpachi that found him again (he lost him again though). But at last they found the correct doors. He pulled out his hand knocking politely.

"Um... we we're wondering if we could see Hitsugaya-taichou?" Inoue answered awkwardly rocking on the balls of her feet.

"Huh?" came a rather sleepy voice. "Oh you can come in."

Ichigo looked elsewhere, half-wondering whether it was allowed to fall asleep at work as it was at school. But his thoughts were put to an end as the door opened and they walked inside. A tall woman yawned out lout saying she'd be right back and to stay put.

"Wow this is such a big office, isn't it Kurosaki-kun?" Inoue questioned.

Books covered the walls, from the ceiling to the floor, while a large window stood open in the far corner letting in the night air. A large comfy couch faced them with a blanket and pillows spilling onto the carpeted floor and a few bottles scattered on the ground.

Behind the couch was a large oak desk, every inch of the desk covered in even more books and a hectic load of important looking documents, many of which had fallen on the floor or where rolled up into paperballs. Only a small corner remained free of the desk and that was used for a small tea cup. Not too far was another desk though it wasn't quite covered in paperwork, instead even more bottles and lotions and perfumes and the like. A large bundle of candies were scattered throughout the floor.

In short if Yuzu had seen this office she would have fainted.

"Masumoto, how many times do I have to tell you not to write all over my books!" A rather small looking boy entered the room with snowy white hair and piercing green eyes. Behind him stood the same woman though she certainly seemed more alert now.

There was an indigent gasp. "I did no such thing!"

"You're name's written all over it," he showed.

She laughed sheepishly before quickly pointing. "Look we have visitors!"

"You let strangers into the office?" he sighed before looking at them. "Well what do you want?"

"I'm looking for Hitsugaya-taichou," Ichigo answered.

"Yes," the boy answered setting a handful of books in the clustered desk.

"Yeah... I'm looking for Hitsugaya-taichou," Ichigo repeated in case the boy hadn't heard. "Can you tell him that I want to speak with him?"

"Yes I am Hitsugaya-taichou."

"No you can't," Ichigo reasoned to the errand boy.

The boy looked at him, this time his voice rising slightly. "Yes I am."

Huh? Ichigo stared at the boy in front of him. His eyes bugled out, mouth opened slightly until he finally burst out in laughter. "Y-you can't be Hitsugaya-taichou!"

The boy gritted his teeth, a vein popping on his forehead.

Ichigo stopped his laughter glancing at the boy for a moment. "You can't be older than Karin!" Again he burst out in laughter.

"Kurosaki-kun," Inoue said thoughtfully. "Maybe he really isn't as young as Karin-chan maybe he's just one of those midgets!"

"I am not a midget! I'm just short!" He fumbled for a minutes with his words- no doubt angry with himself for using the taboo word.

His laughter stopped though when he felt something hard hit him on the head. "Oi! Carrot top!" the woman said getting in front of him, setting her hands on her hips. "You got some nerve talking to taichou like that!"

Ichigo blinked noticing that the woman was very close to him.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

Though his eyes couldn't help but stare down at her overexposed cleavage. They were so big!

"The conversation is up here, carrot top," the woman said harshly snapping her fingers in front of his face and breaking him from his trance. He turned his eyes up at her pretty face and though she was angry she still looked beautiful.

"Who are you questioning taichou like that?" she continued hands on her hips, and making Ichigo feel like some misbehaved boy getting scowled by his school teacher.

"What division are you in so I can give a good long complain to your captain?" She paused as she glanced over at Inoue just about ready to scowl at her too but then paused and rushed over to her.

"Ah! You're boobs are almost as big as mine!"

Whatever thoughts he had of being scared of this woman vanished out of thin air. Inoue looked at her, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "I guess so."

"They're like my junior counter part!" she continued. "Taichou! Taichou! How big do you think they are?"

"How the hell should I know!" Hitsugaya roared.

"Anyway I'm Masumoto Rangiku!" she said happily. "And that is taichou," she said pointing at the boy seating behind his desk. He looked ready to break something but took a deep breath and stood, approaching Ichigo.

"You're the ryoka," he stated. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Y-yeah," Ichigo said a bit spooked at how this boy knew his name.

"I want to thank you," he continued and his voice suddenly seemed to be so tired. "Because of you Aizen finally showed his true colors. All this time I didn't see that he was up to something. Thank you," he said bowing his head slightly. "For saving Soul Society."

The room suddenly seemed to get much quieter and he noticed that Rangiku-san was also bowing her head down slight along with her captain. And it wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the other way around, he was supposed to be thanking him because really he hadn't done that much.

The boy raised his head again and Ichigo noticed the hospital bandages were still visible underneath his robes, his palms were scared- no doubt from holding his zanpakuto so tightly- and the ever so slightly evidence of grief behind those piercing green eyes.

It comes to him suddenly. This boy- this boy that looked no older than his sisters- had fought Aizen single handedly. Aizen that powerful beast that had stopped Renji's zanpakuto with one finger and had chopped off his body and had stopped a captain with a simple incantation and had allied himself with the hollows- this boy he fought him all by himself.

"Its nothing," Ichigo answered looking off.

This nagging feeling does not leave his mind because there is some sort of understanding.

"Ichigo!"

He turns his head sharply as he notices Rukia waving at him. She wears a purple kimono with flower petals dancing on the silk. She scowls at him, standing as tall as she can. "Where have you been?"

"What can't I go for a walk in peace?" he asks rolling his eyes. She still looks angry and goes off into a detailed story how he had nearly destroyed Seririte last time he wandered off alone.

"Hey I was running from Kenpachi!" he yells indigent.

Again Rukia continues her rather annoying story. He mind goes off, briefly hoping that she doesn't ask him what she had just said otherwise he was sure to get into even mor trouble.

"Ah good afternoon Hitsugayua-taichou, Masumoto-san!"

His mind comes back and he notices both Hitsugaya and Rangiku-san approaching their direction. Rangiku-san greets them happily whereas Hitsugaya merely mutters their names in acknowledgement.

There is some sort of understanding, Ichigo realizes, he knows exactly where he has seen those grieving struck eyes, where has heard that tired sigh and felt that sort of atmosphere. Suddenly he gets a sharp jab in the ribs and he looks angry at Rukia who looks angry at him.

"What? What are you staring at me for Kurosaki?" Hitsugaya questions looking annoyed. Rangiku-san giggles. "Maybe he's fallen in love with you taichou!"

"NO! NO!" Ichigo yells, earning a few individuals to look at the commotion. "I don't go like that!"

"Don't be ridiculous Masumoto," Hitsugaya answers annoyed at her teasing. He looks at him now. "For the last time I am Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Actually..." Ichigo begins.

"See taichou! I was right my woman's intuition is always right!"

"Masumoto you don't have a woman's intuition! Now be quiet!"

She pouts slightly.

"Okay, listen, so I definitely don't like you or anything," he begins. "But we weren't properly introduced. Kurosaki Ichigo."

Rukia looks at him as though he's lost his mind. Hitsugaya's eyebrows rise in confusion but eventually he responds. "Hitsugaya Toushirou, captain of the Tenth Division."

"Toushirou?" Ichigo questions, amusement in his voice. "Well then... good afternoon Rangiku-san, Toushirou," he greets with a nod of his head and continues along. 'Its Hitsugaya-taichou!' he heards off in the distance.

"That was weird," Rukia comments and then grabs a hold of his hand. "C'mon we have to hurry! Nii-sama just woke up and he's furious with you!" she said in a sing song voice.

"Oi what did I do?" he questions as he runs along side Rukia.

Ichigo sees it so clearly. That nagging feeling is understanding.

He glances down to look at Rukia's face.

He had been able to save Rukia but Toushirou hadn't been able to save that important person. He understood that pained expression so clearly as though he had looked at a mirror. He has the same gloom and grief that he had when Rukia was arrested and taking away.

But, Ichigo thinks, Toushirou is much stronger than he first was and he'll be able to save this person. And if he needs help, then he'll be willing to help.

Fic: Like Ice

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 04:39:37 GMT

Title: Like Ice
Characters: Hitsugaya, OC
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing!

Anton Akakievich wobbled through the busy streets of Karakura. His bones ached from arthritis, his vision faded long ago, and his movements had become sluggish and slow- a great contrast to his lively youth.

He was old now- so very old and tired. Where there was once a head of dark locks, now become covered with white snowy hair, flawless skin became covered in wrinkles and he more often found himself exhausted.

Death approached him, he was sure of it, and it was only a matter of time before he would be taken away. He has been alive for a very, very long time- long enough to see his grandchildren grown to have their own children and to be one of the few that remembered the old tradition. He had done everything he had wanted to do and now all he could do was await that long sleep.

The sun shone dimly, clouds scattering across the blue sky while a breeze ruffling his silver hair. It was a rather cool autumn’s day, a slight anticipation for the cold winter months to come. He finds his way into the park, his cane guiding him until he tiredly sits down on one of the benches just overlooking a clear pond.

A few children scrambled about the yellowish lawns chasing and laughing at one another until they spotted another child in the distance and ran the opposite direction. Beyond that the park remained quiet, except for the occasional footsteps of people walking along.

The wind blew, gently knocking his cane aside. The old man grumbled to himself just about ready to rise to pick up his cane when it suddenly appeared in front of him.

"You drop this."

Teal eyes peered up at him and he noticed a boy- rather young and small- hold out his cane. His face was round very much so like a child’s, though his hair was snowy white just like his own.

"Thank you," Anton smiled as he grasped his cane. "You're a very helpful young man."

He shrugged. "It’s no problem."

The boy's cell phone beeped just then and he dug into his pocket before flipping it open and reading the text. He mumbled something under his breath, his fingers quickly moving to reply to the message. His phone beeped again and this time he looked like he was really ready to break it apart.

He paused though as he realized that the older man was looking at him rather curiously.

“Ah forgive me!” Anton croaked. “I don't know how... but you just remind me of a child I knew long ago.”

"Really?" he responded though his thumps were quickly moving through the buttons.

"Yes, yes," the old man continued, holding his cane tightly. "His mother left him on the front steps of an orphanage and he grew up somewhat distant and bitter of the world. Many of the children were afraid of him but behind his back they used to say that he was 'just like ice.'"

His tired his eyes moved over the pond, distinctly seeing his memories come alive. There stood a seven-year-old child, dressed in a heavy overcoat and muffler. He sat alone lumping snow together before rubbing his hands together to heat his frozen hands.

Anton blinked, distinctly seeing that child stand up and wipe away the snow cluttered on his knees. Hurriedly the child ran off bypassing dead trees and rocks.

"Now that I think about it," the old man began after a moment's pause. "He was probably very lonely without any family or friends.”

The boy looked up from his phone- a questioning look in his eyes- and stared at the man, his features rapidly shaping as though he just recalled something very important. “W-what happened to him?"

“It was one winter. Some of the bigger kids surrounded him when he was alone in the woods, but the child never showed any form of fear. There was this one boy that always made fun of him because his parents abandoned him but he would just walk away. ‘You’re just like ice!’ one of them finally said. He probably got tired of being called that behind his back, so he pushed him. The other boy retaliated and he pushed him roughly.

"The snow covered everything including the lake… but the ice was still thin… and he fell into the icy water,” he coughed pulling out a handkerchief and holding it onto his mouth. The boy stood waiting patiently for him to continue. “He yelling for help,” Anton continued hearing that poor child crying out for help. His yells echoing in the wilderness where no one but the dead trees head. “But everyone was too afraid and ran away."

Anton looked down at the boy then that seemed to have been frozen in time. His teal eyes were focused on something that was far, far away.

“There was another blizzard that night,” the boy said sorrowfully. “And it got cold and he didn’t have any friends or family to search for him."

"They found him two days later," Anton continued. "But by that time his skin was blue, body scrunched, lips dark with blood and covered in ice. He died from hypothermia… Y-you’re him aren’t you?”

Anton looked at the boy- no he wasn't really a boy they were both the same age.

There was a pause- a rather long pause and the world around suddenly seemed to fade away. “Yes,” he replied looking directly at him. “Yes, I am.”

Anton was on the ground suddenly, his palms and forehead pressed onto the dirt ground. "I do not ask for your understanding," he cried. "I was the one that pushed you. I was the one that killed you. I'm sorry... I am truly, truly sorry."

Tears began to roll down his wrinkled face. "I have repented after you died! I swore to myself that I would not mistreat another human being ever again. I have become compassionate to those around me to help ease my guilt, but I cannot help but think this constantly over and over again. I pray each and every night that an afterlife really does exist not for me but for you. I pray that you have found a family," he sobbed pushing his head deeper into the ground. "That you won't be like ice anymore!"

Two hands were gently on his shoulders and he looked up to see soft teal eyes not the coal green eyes he remembered in his youth. "Anton, do not worry anymore. I have found my family and friends." He thought for a moment. "I am at peace."

Hitsugaya Toushirou smiled, genuinely smiled at his killer’s face. "Live the rest of your life free of guilt. I am not like ice anymore."

Fic: Stupid Looks

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 19:10:01 GMT

Title: Stupid Looks
Rating: T
Characters: Ichigo, Hiyori, the Vaizards
Warnings: spoilers for pendulum arc, slight language
Disclaimer: Nope, still own nothing.
Word count: 956

When baldy first approach them, Hiyori couldn’t help but think what a stupid look he had on his face. It was that stupid look that just made her want to leap down and rip it off his baldy face, but of course Shinji- why does she bother listening to him anyway?- had said baldy was gonna join the group now and they should at least attempt to be nice.

And she was nice to him; he wasn’t dead after all.

Her shoulders ached as she took a seat on an outstretched rock. Kensei read over Lisa’s shoulder on her new magazine, while Kuna and Hachi were out getting dinner. She hoped they’d be back soon as her stomach began grumbling. “What the hell you tired already, baldy?”

“Shut it!” Ichigo yelled furiously, picking up a random rock and throwing it at her. He missed and hit Shinji instead. “We’ve been training…” he panted completely out of breath before just dropping on the dirt floor.
The girl snorted and leaped into the air, purposely landing hard on his belly. “You little bitch!” Ichigo cringed, throwing another random rock.

Again he missed and hit Shinji instead.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me ‘Hiyori-sama,’ its bad enough I have to be here and trained you’re worthless ass.”

“The hell I call a buck-tooth beaver that?”

“Dinner!” Kuna’s cheery voice broke through the argument. In her small hand she held several plastic bags, while Hachi stook behind her.

There was a rush as everyone set things aside and went to scrunch through the bags to get the better dibs. “Oh Berry-tan, how’s training going?” Kuna asked through busy chattering.

“A complete failure, honestly, I’ve never seen such a worthless case,” Hiyori answered, ignoring Ichigo’s glare.

“That’s nice,” the green-haired girl said sweetly perhaps oblivious to what had actually been said. “Oh that reminds me! Hachi and I ran into some hollow activity while we were buying dinner!”

Don’t sound too happy about it, Kuna,” Kensei answered, hitting her over the head. “Wah! Kensei’s so mean!”

“Anyway Ichigo-kun,” Hachi continued noticing his eagerness. “One of your shinigami friends went to deal with it. It looked as though she was having a bit of trouble in the beginning, but she finally got it under control.”

“I see.” He suddenly didn’t seem like eating anymore, and Hiyori noticed he had that same pathetic look on his face that same stupid look he had when he first arrived here and began training.

Hiyori set her chopsticks aside. “Ichigo.”

He turned around- more out of surprise that she hadn’t called him baldy- and received the most brutal punch he’d ever received in his life. His head barely seemed to stay on his shoulders until he finally landed disgracefully on the floor. Stars dancing above him, the lightening seemed to dim and he could begin to feel something warm trickling down his face.

“Get that stupid look off your face!” Hiyori yelled and though she was much shorter than him, she looked absolutely menacing. “I’m sick and tired of seeing that frickin' look on your stupid face!”

“What are you talking about?” he yelled out through his blood-covered face.

“Do you feel ashamed or something?”

“What?”

“You think I don’t know? That I’m frickin' stupid or something? You’re whining, ‘If only I was normal. If only I was a normal shinigami not cursed with this monster then I could be out. Why oh why did this have to happen to me?’”

It got much quieter.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is!” Hiyori continued ignoring his feeble voice. “You think you’re some freak because you’re stuck here trying to control that hollow when you could be out there. Well guess what? We’re all a bunch of freaks!”

“Hiyori,” Shinji began, not sounding as his usual self.

“Shut up Shinji!” she spat. “So what if we’re not shinigami or hollows or humans? I ain’t ashamed of what I am because I know that what I have- what I am- ain’t a curse, but a blessing! And you’re too much of a shithead to realize that! ”

She left after that and a terrible silence prevailed over them. What Hiyori said brought back a distant time when things were normal- so it could be said- where they were all respectable shingami under the gotei-13 and they didn’t have to hide for simply being who they are. But since that doomed mission, their entire lives took a one hundred degree turn and they weren’t the respectable captains and vice-captains of the gotei-13, but- as Hiyori said- a bunch of freaks that had survived some accident.

Their names were erased shortly afterwards, and they were suddenly thrown into a world where no one wanted them- not the shinigami, not the hollows, and not the humans. And though there were times when the world just seemed to hate them, they didn’t once fall into that misery because to do so would be to fall into the whispers of that hollow that had shunned them away.

“I’m sorry,” Ichigo spoke softly. He bowed his head slightly to the down cast eyes of the Vizards. “I don’t think any little of you, not at all.”

Shinji had pushed it aside with those typical jokes of his and Kuna had laughed that now he really did look like a berry with all that blood on his face. Love and Rose continued talking about the latest CD on the shelves, and Lisa turned the page in her magazine.

When night finally did arrive, Ichigo stared at the ceiling listening to the distinct laughter of the hollow until he drifted to sleep. In the morning he didn't call Hiyori buck-tooth beaver once.

Overly sensitive

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 00:31:34 GMT

Title: Overly sensitive
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Ichigo, Byakuya, Rukia
Warnings: none, slight OC?
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing!

As much as Kurosaki put that tough and punk act around him, he found that this time he just couldn’t keep it up. His tough resolve was falling apart and he could barely contain the urge to just drop dead and… laugh.

But of course he couldn’t. As the official representative of the Living World, he needed to put a good appearance- well that’s what Rukia said and he always found it was in his best interest to listen to her- and to laugh now when the faith of all of Soul Society and the Living World were at risk would simply be inappropriate, even he had to admit that.

Putting on a blank face, he looked at the front of the room where Byakuya was giving out his report- in that boring monotone of his- and Rukia stood to his side gravely listening to everything her nii-sama said. For a moment it worked and though he was bored and wondering what the hell they were talking about he managed to contain his cool.

“Based on the recollection of the few survivals in my own interaction, I have made a rough outline of what the enemy would look like,” the captain pressed a click of another button and the overhead changed once again to blow up the picture, so that all could see.

“…phh…”

“As you could see the head of the creature appears to be made of the herro content that we have encountered in other Arrancar.”

“….phhh….”

“This in turn causes the average sword to destroy itself, which caused many shinigami to be weaponless….”

“…bwphh….”

This time Byakuya noticed. He paused for a moment, glaring at him, before Kurosaki did his best to turn into a face of indifference.

“Furthermore, it can be concluded that it would be wise…”

“…pht…”

This time Rukia sent death daggers at him, promising him a certain death. Blinking he turned elsewhere but the overhead, trying to remember Ishida’s boring lectures about Newton’s’ First Law of Motion and all that crap.

“Finally, this is the last recollection of the unknown Arrancar.”

He made the mistake of looking up, and all at once he couldn’t contain the laugh that was just coming up his throat. He held his breath, telling himself he was probably going to blow a kidney or something from trying to hold his laughter in.

“Is there a problem, Kurosaki?” Byakuya finally asked, and everyone turned simultaneously at his blown up blue face and the tears that were growing in his eyes.

He nodded his head because really he couldn’t trust himself to talk just yet.

“Then could you continue to the report, considering that you were there as well?”

He blinked back, thinking to himself that he could get through this that there was nothing he couldn’t do if he didn’t put his mind on.

“Well we were by a…. BAHAHAHAHHAAAA!”

Whatever so maybe he was gonna die, but at least he would die happy and that’s all that matters, right?

“What’s seems to be so funny, Kurosaki?” Byakuya asked, and boy did he look sour.

All about him the Gotei-13 captains, stood seriously watching Kurosaki as he rolled about the ground, tears falling in his eyes, and his laughter bouncing off the walls. After five minutes, he looked up at him, his stomach hurting, his shinigami outfit messed up, and pushing back tears.

“You’re drawings! What the hell they’re worse than Rukia’s!”

“FOOL!” Rukia shouted out, throwing a random book at top speed towards Ichigo. It raced faster than a comet, the point of it landed on his eyeball, and he fell over clutched the eye in pain. “How dare you ridicule nii-sama’s drawings! They are clearly a work of art!”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Byakuya answered putting away his sword. “I assume there will be no more interruptions?”

No one said a word.

“Very well then,” he clicked another button and the overhead changed to a weird seaweed-sheep-hat-wearing- angrily-looking thingy with many eyeballs and holding what appeared to be a giant spoon.

“We observed this Arrancar several miles from our camp…”

At once Rukia became attentive and Ichigo finally stood up, holding his eye. All around him the other captains sighed in disappointment. Really he should have known that the Kuchiki clan was overly sensitive to their artistic skills.

Among the living

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 05:20:31 GMT

Title: Among the Living
Rating: PG
Characters: Masumoto, Hitsugaya
Warnings: spoilers ch 190 and beyond
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing!

"Well who will lead the expedition to the Living World?"

Either all the Gotei-13 captains were just being shy about their excitement of going to the human world, or no well respected captain wanted to spend agonizing weeks, perhaps months in the living world with humans.

"Well?"

Yamamoto-soutaichou rested his hands on top of his wooden cane, quietly awaiting a response. What remained of the Gotei-13 captains stood on either side of him, neither one of them daring to look the old man in the face.

A report came in from the 12th Division of two insanely powerful Arrancars hitting Karakura Town and killing any innocent bystanders. The ryoka had been completely defeated by them, and if it weren't for Urahara Kisuke and Yoruichi, things would have definitely gotten worse. The Arrancars had mysteriously left, but there just was no knowing when they would return again.

Because of this new threat, an advance squad of sorts would be formed to team up with Kurosaki and keep an eye out for those freaks. Naturally, the younger Kuchiki had been selected and somehow Abarai's name had been brought but with no captain to supervise, the advance squad was at a stand still.

Which of course leads to the current scenario.

The cost of living among humans was simply to much than the sheer benefits. Humans were dumb, selfish, rude and who in their right mind would want to spent an hour with them, much less weeks, possibly months with them? Even Zaraki-taichou, with his thirst for new opponents, clearly objected with rather... eh... kind words.

Yamamoto-soutaichou had suggested that Kuchiki-taichou go along, considering that he was the only captain that had recently gone to the living world.

"I apologize Yamamoto-soutaichou but at the moment I have current matters to deal with one of the noble families."

Because as much as Byakuya was trying to become a better brother there was no way he would be returning anything soon to that filthy place.

"I see," the old man replied, thinking of the possible candidate. Soi fong was busy with the Special Forces, Unohana was busy with the hospital, Komamura well couldn't go, Zaraki had kindly stated his opinion and Kurotsuchi had down right refused (something about humans lowering IQ).

"Is there anyone?" he asked though clearly he was looking at one individual, actually all the captains were looking at that one individual and he just seemed to be staring elsewhere.

"I'll go, old man," Kyoraku said good-naturally.

Clearly, the old man wanted to say otherwise, but well he really didn't have a choice.

The meeting ended a few minutes later with a promise of another one in two days, as the team became better organized. Hitsugaya sighed as he descended the steps of the First Division, relieved for not being the one chosen- because really it sure seemed as though everyone's eye were on him!- but then again maybe luck was finally on his side.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-kun!" Ukitake called out from behind.

"What is it now?" he asked half-annoyed and not really wanting any more candy at the moment. Ukitake chuckled at his expression. "Now, now Hitsugaya-kun, there's no need to get so upset for no reason."

"It's Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Yes, yes you're right," he answered in amusement, though he'd probably forget, yet again. The two descended down the stairs watching as the other captains moved ahead of them. Yachiru jumped on Zaraki's back noisily yelling whether Ken-chan was gonna go beat up those mean look red dots that had everyone panicking about. Zaraki snorted before yelling at her to be quiet and he was definitely not gonna wait around when he could just as easily go after them.

It was a nice breezy autumn's day and though it reminded him of much better times in his early childhood, Hitsugaya had nothing to look forward to but a tower of paperwork needing to be done and a fukutaichou that was probably sprawled on the couch with a hangover.

"Don't you agree?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, slightly embarrassed that he was too busy in his thoughts to have heard the older man.

"I said, You should have signed up for the advance squad- this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I would have sighed up myself, but I have the Investigation to lead at the moment. Though I supposed Shunsui is a good choice, I'm sure he'll take care of Kuchiki and whoever ends up going along."

"Pft, there's nothing that could coerce me to going into that self-centered, asinine world."

Ukitake smiled at him, simply looking down at him before declaring he had work to do and leaving him some candy, much to Hitsugaya's annoyment.

When he returned back to his office, he oddly found it empty, considering that only this morning Masumoto was complaining of a headache, but then again someone probably had invited her to go drinking and she just couldn't seem to refuse.

And so he picked up his brush and began the dull task of tackling the mountain of paperwork that just seemed to be accumulating.

By the time evening approached he'd set the last of the documents aside and sighed in relief at having finished 5th Divisions paperwork and now onto 10th Division.

Lifting his cup, he frowned as he found it empty. "Oi, Masumoto, do something useful and get me some tea."

He waited for Masumoto's complaints, fussing over how she was under appreciated and she should really deserve a raise for putting up with his rudeness. But oddly enough there was no reply.

He sighed, she still hadn't return from who knows where, which meant that she was probably doing something moronic and it would only be a matter of time before someone rushed in to see to his fukutaichou.

Setting things aside, he began the task of searching for her. “Good evening, taichou!” a shinigami said saluting quickly at him.

“Have you seen Masumoto?”

The shinigami thought for a moment. “Last time I saw fukutaichou was with Kuchiki-san.”

Hitsugaya thought for a moment before continuing along. Eventually he found her, in a small sweet shop talking excitable with the younger Kuchiki. “Taichou! Taichou! Over here!”

“Yes, Masumoto, I saw you,” he sighed at her loudness. Kuchiki seemed a lot different than the last time he saw her. She had more energy now and didn’t seem quite as gloomy as before. Masumoto was sober.

“Where have you been Masumoto?”

“Taichou, you have to hear Rukia’s stories about the human world! They're these weird juice-liquid thing that comes out of little boxes!”

“Liquids that come out of boxes? What type of world is that?”

“Its true, Hitsugaya-taichou,” Rukia answered eagerly. “And you use this straw thing to drink from it!”

Masumoto gasped in surprised. “Do you hear that taichou? I can’t wait to go to the human world!”

“What?”

The idea that she hadn’t asked permission from her taichou seemed to have bypassed her. Overall, he spent the rest of the evening listening to the strange stories of Kuchiki, Masumoto seemed to eat every word, and he just couldn’t help but think what a backward world those humans live.

It wasn’t until Abarai came walking by, saying he needed to take Kuchiki home, did the two finally took their leave, briefly listening to Kuchiki's yells that she didn't need a babysitter. The walk back was mostly silent, except for Masumoto recalling how she had awoken from her afternoon nap to find her taichou missing and had gone searching for him. Afterwards she had met Madarame talking to Ayasegawa from the 11th Division about a proposition of going to the human world.

Of course it sounded fun, so she had to go see Kuchiki right away.

“Masumoto, you don’t want to go to the human world. There’s pollution, horrible diseases, self-centered crude nations, nucleric warfare, and weird humans toys that round around saying moronic things.”

“I know it sounds like so much fun!”

He sighed; apparently, everyone had missed the point that it was a surveillance squad instead of a vacation.

For the next 36 hours he had to bear Masumoto’s endless recounts on going to the human world, and reassuring him over and over again that she was going to get him something nice.

“Masumoto, if you don’t finish your work right now, then you’re not going to the human world!”

“You’re so mean taichou!” she pouted but took a seat in her desk. It looked as though she was actually going to get some work done, and Hitsugaya was just about to congratulate himself for finally finding up a means of getting his fukutaichou to work.

“Anou, taichou?”

Maybe not.

He sighed. “What is it Masumoto?”

“Who’s going to lead the surveillance team?

“Kyoraku-taichou volunteered,” he answered simply.

“What!” She looked as though he suddenly told her the sky was green. “He can’t go Nanao-chan will never allow it!”

“Then I guess you won’t be going to the human world. None of the other captains volunteered.”

She looked as though sake had been made illegal. “There has to be someone… hey taichou...?”

“No, Masumoto, I’m not going to the human world.” He answered flatly going back to his work.

“C’mon taichou!” she pouted. “Its not like you have anything to do here.”

“Masumoto, I have to run two divisions, I can’t go even if I wanted!”

“What’s wrong with leading it in the human world? We have some reliable shinigami, I’m sure they’ll be able to look after the division while we’re gone. We have been working hard, after all, and so we desire a vacation!"

'I need a vacation.'

"Besides I’m sure you’ll look cute in that school boys’ uniform!”

“If that’s the case, then I’m definitely not going.” She grumbled in annoyance before fussing- rather loudly- that she had the meanest, rudest and brattiest taichou ever before yelling out that she was going to somehow convince Nanao to let Kyoraku-taichou go!

She rushed out furious, slamming the door loudly, before poking her head back in and asking sheepishly whether she can have the afternoon off.

"Go ahead. You deserve, it remember?" he said dryly. She smiled brightly at him, declaring that he was the best. And so she leaving Hitsugaya alone in silence.

For four hours he worked in silence, carefully reading the documents before signing then or writing something and then placed it aside. The pile got smaller and smaller and within just another hour he could probably be done, afterwards he would go see the training of his division and stop briefly to see the 5th.

“Pft, human world.”

She'd probably spent her first night in jail- completely wasted- singing children nursery rhymes with the cell mate next door, and complaining that she didn't know the words to the song. Then she'd probably beat up the guard for telling her to shut up, and end up with criminal charges for battery. Then she'd get sentenced for three hundred centuries- or whatever capital punishment was like over there- and end up living in a cockroach infected cell with a pervert... no wait she could deal the pervert.

Wait a minute! What was he thinking about Masumoto for? If at all he should be thinking about her absence.

Now that Masumoto would be gone he'd probably spent most of his evening quietly, and he'd definitely get his paperwork done, get some training done, and finish off his list of things-to-do-when-Masumoto-isn't here list.

Now he'd be able to get a full night's sleep without being called late at night that his fukutaichou was out terrorizing the streets, and would he please come?

Now that he wouldn't have to deal with her pranks and her illogical complaints.

And he would definitely be freed from her monster chest!

Yes, he thought, suddenly smiling to himself, maybe now he could finally get that long awaited vacation.

“And so, I, Hitsugaya Toshirou Captain of the 10th Division request the disclosure from Kuchiki-taichou, Zaraki-taichou and Kuchiki-taichou for Fukutaichou Abari Renji, Third Chair Madarame Ikkaku, Fifth Chair Ayasegawa Yumichika, and Kuchiki Rukia to form a surveillance team, as approved from the Gotei-13, to monitor and respond against any suspicious and dangerous spiritual activities in the Living World.

Furthermore, I ask these captains to authorize me the full command of their subordinates and in turn for their subordinates to obey my command upon reaching the Living World, afterwards they will promptly return to their respective division."

Each of the mentioned captains nodded in agreement.

He took a breath before continuing reading from his manuscript.

"With each of your agreements in mind, the above mention as well as myself and my fukutaichou, Masumoto Rangiku, will form the Hitsuygaya Advanced Squad. We shall arrive in Karakura Town, Eastern Japan, at exactly 18: 00 hours and shall remain in the area for as long as it seems necessary..."

“Furthermore, I shall take outmost responsibility for the team and agree that I will do to the best of my ability that no harm shall befall...”

‘Damn, Masumoto.’

Porcelain doll

Sat, 31 May 2008 01:28:23 GMT

Title: Porcelain doll
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: slight Hinamori/Hitsugaya, Masumoto
Warnings: Angst

A/N: For Bleach drabbles

Word Count: 546

It pains her every time they come here.

Taichou insisted she didn’t have to come that she could just take the day off, but she would just laugh it off, reminding him that she is his fukutaichou and she's stuck with him whether he likes it or not.

He’d mutter something under his breath, but didn’t say anything else.

There are brightly colored flowers everywhere, bird fluttering by and the pond water splashing gently on the ridge.

“Let me guess you're tired, Hinamori? C'mon let's sit down.”

He leads her across the bridge, bypassing green shrubbery and white stones, until they come to rest on a simple bench. Gently, he sits her down, brushing away the green leaves that had gathered on her hair.

“Here,” he says placing a red apple into her empty hands. “An old man was selling apples, so I got one for you.”

Silence.

There's nothing left of that cute little girl anymore- the one that laughed and smiled and made up silly nicknames- instead an emotionless, hollow woman took her place for the last forty years.

In that final battle so many years ago, her taichou hadn’t been able to finish off Aizen. He only needed a tiny bit of strength to drive his sword into Aizen’s neck, but he was beyond exhausted and just couldn’t find the energy to do so. Aizen had laughed, though he was wounded and dying himself, ridiculing him for still being such an ignorant child. In his moment of glory, he hadn't seen that kidou behind him.

And so Hinamori sits here, an empty shell.

"Oh, that's right you like peaches, don'cha?"

The apple rolls off her palm, hitting the ground with a dull thump, and he can’t help those heavyhearted thoughts from resurfacing in his mind.

Perhaps, death is generosity.

To have injections feed you and put you to sleep.

To not being able to think or laugh or cry.

To being so dead inside that you can't even recognize your childhood best friend.

Yes, she realizes this fate is worst than death. And it breaks her heart, seeing her taichou go through this- seeing the person he loves not quite dead and not quite alive either- and blaming himself over and over again that if only he had been just a little bit stronger, she wouldn't be like this. And realizing that now- now, that he is older and stronger- he is still acting like a child and can't seem to do the right thing.

“Bah, you want me to peel it, don't you?”

But he's too selfish to kill her. So for now all he can do is continue scowling her, and foolishly hope that she'll call him ‘Shiro-chan’ again.

"All right let's go back."

He grabs her hand, ignoring that void in her eyes, and stands her up, putting his arm with hers.

They walk back to the hospital- where he calls her ‘Bedwetter Momo’ and tells her he’ll try to find it in his busy schedule to see her again- and then the nurse takes her away.

Hinamori says nothing, though that yellow silk kimono- one of the presents he gotten her, all in hopes of seeing her smile- she wears making her seem like one of those porcelain dolls.

Fanfic: Social Norms

Thu, 18 Oct 2007 19:09:16 GMT

Title: Social Norms
Rating: PG
Characters: Temari, Kankurou, Gaara
Warnings: slight language
DIsclaimer: Don't own squat!

“Temari can we go, already?” Kankurou grunted in annoyance, bypassing a man in front of him. He shifted the many bags he was holding, their heavy weight making red lines in his palms, and the large vase obstructing his view as he tried to juggle it in the other hand.

The sun hung low, making the air cool and crisp allowing the villagers of Sungakure to escape their air conditioned homes. During this time of the day, the market became unbearably full making it difficult to not get lost, not to mention he was forced to carry all this rubbish.

Honestly, he must have looked ridiculous carrying all these bags and trying to balance a vase... like, like some clown. He shuddered; he was a puppeteer not a stupid clown!

“Why? You weren't doing anything but working on that stupid doll!”

“Puppet, Temari, puppet! And besides I need to start on that mission report.” They both knew that was bull.

Why was he here again?

Oh yes, because older sisters just loved inflicting harm, and little brothers were cold and insensitive. He was innocently minding his business working on a brand new design for a new puppet, and somehow he ended up was shopping with Temari, paying for all her weird things and carrying all her crap. And even if he somehow- by some miracle- he managed to escape, he couldn't go home since Gaara was hawking him over some stupid mission report.

“We're redecorating, Gaara's office,” she had explained. Figures, out of all days, Temari suddenly decides to resharpen her interior design skills. God, he needed to move out of the house!

“You know, Gaara's probably gonna throw a fit and end up destroying everything.”

She smiled. “I know. He wouldn't listen to me about getting some fresh air, so I'm gonna force him out!” Again older sisters just loved to inflict harm.

Not only was she throwing away his money on some strange assortments of green plants, blue curtains, and funny wall paper designs. But there would be a catastrophic fight- like when she was trying to get Gaara to sleep, three months ago- between the two and of course, and being the middle sibling Kankurou was forced to intervene.

Then again, he could just drop all these things, go home and work on his 10-page report that his cruel little brother assigned him. But of course, Temari would throw a fit. And then Gaara would throw a fit for not having finished that report. Seriously, why did he have to be related to two individuals that threw childish fits to get what they want?

He was much more mature than that.

“Ah! Run away! It's him! It's him! He'll cut you up into little pieces and serve you to his puppet!” A group of children chorused running to the opposite direction as soon as they caught sight of Kankurou.

He couldn't help but laugh.

“Kankurou!” Temari said angrily, jabbing him in the ribs and nearly causing him to drop over the stupid vase.

“What? They were cute!”

“Stop scaring kids!” She muttered something under her breath, how she was the only mature one in this family before commanding him to buy her some ridiculously expensive ugly looking plant and arguing that since she was older he was forced to do as she said. Another thirty minutes passed in boredom and after buying more random things- Gaara does not need a music box, she's just doing this to spite him- they finally stopped at that small coffee shop where Gaara usually gets his coffee.

Temari ordered green tea and after sitting down in exhaustion, Kankurou took a gulp of his drink, wincing slightly at the bitter taste. “Please tell me we're almost done.”

“What the hell Kankurou you're a jounin. Suck it up!”

“Oh no! I never thought about getting demoted for not being able to shop with my sister! And here I was worried about getting my team killed!”

She gapped him again for being a smartass. “So how's the exciting world of being Sunagakure's Officical Liaison coming along?”

“Just splendid, if you consider spending two agonizing hours overseeing pathetic matches with two kids that can barely hold kunai!”

He smirked. “See and here I thought you were the favorite.” She laughed again before recounting to him the recent Chuunin Exams and how those kids really have gotten laggard in their development. They talked a good while about the exams and how those Leafies really were making some progress, though that wasn't to say their kids weren't doing just as well.

For a moment, it was kinda nice talking to Temari, like they did before she became a liaison and he a jounin and they were just too busy or tired to say much. Sure they said a few things and fought- that has to be a given- but it was never really the type to talk about stupid things like boys and girls and stupid brats and eating this and that and training and whatever the hell popped up.

“Brother,” she said to him and suddenly her voice got kind of small and she started stirring her tea rapidly. “D-do you think Gaara likes me?”

He had to blink because this was the first time Temari had ever worried about what some else thought about her, otherwise she wouldn't have kept the same hairdo for the last eighteen years. “I mean I know I sometimes do things to annoy him and most of the time we end up arguing... so do you think he... I don't know... hates me or something?”

"I mean he talks to you... and well..."

He stared at her for a moment, and all of a sudden like he was blinded by some radiant light, he suddenly realized Temari was a girl. Well, of course he knew Temari was a girl... but well he kinda didn't think... whatever... Temari was not acting normal.

“What the hell? You annoy me all the time and we fight all the time, and I don't hear you saying this stupid shit.”

“But you know it’s different between us. And well you... he trusts you... and I guess he doesn't...”

“Temari, who the hell was appointed as Sunagakure's Official Liaison?" She looked up at him. "You! Ya wanna know why? It’s because Gaara trust you outta of everyone in the village because he knew you'd do what was best.”

She looked down at her lap, wrinkling her napkin, before she felt a hand push up her chin. “Sister, stop thinking about it. Gaara's just not the type to open up to people so easily. It took me forever to get him to say a word. So don't worry, he'll come around.”

“You think so?”

“Sure, so don't be getting these stupid thoughts that Gaara doesn't like you, 'kay?” He kissed her cheek before sitting back down, rolling his eyes and telling her that he was definitely not gonna pay the bill. She smiled back, yelling that he had to pay because she was older and therefore he had to listen to her. And some how things seemed to go back to normal.

When they finally left- Kankurou ended up paying- with all of Temari's weird things and stupid vase, night had already fallen and the streets were already empty.

“Where have you two been?”

Both looked to the side at the youngest sibling. He was dressed in plain black clothing, arms crossed and looking as though he had spent the better part of the time waiting for them. “We'll ask permission next time, and be back before curfew, okay Little Brother?” Kankurou smirked, setting all of the bags on the floor. “God, Temari, I swear my arms are gonna fall off!”

“Well, Kankurou, suck it up!” He stuck out his tongue at her, and she drew out her eyelid. Gaara sighed, already used to this tactics. He was just about to leave when Kankurou suddenly called him.

“Here, before I forget, Little Brother, Temari gotcha this.” He held out a small rectangular box sealed with a red ribbon. He took a quick glance at Temari, who tried her best to not look surprise because she certainly hadn't bought him that. Nonetheless, Gaara opened it and saw a beautiful green pointed fountain pen made out of silver and elegance.

“Thank you Temari.” And he smiled at her and she just couldn't help but smile back.

So maybe older sisters didn't love inhibiting pain and little brothers weren't so insensitive. And maybe the middle sibling didn't always have to intervene in the chaotic fight between the older sibling and the younger sibling; maybe he was what brought them together.

He shuddered, god he was getting soft, like a clown! He was a puppeteer, dammit! He shrugged, oh well he'll go scare some more kids tomorrow that'll make him feel better.

“Kankurou, help me get all these things upstairs!”

“Kankurou, I'm still waiting for that 10-page report. I expect it on my desk in the morning.”

Then again he could be wrong.

“C'mon, Little Brother, give me 'till tomorrow afternoon. Temari dragged me along!”

“You haven't even started on that report! Now help me carry all these things upstairs!”

“Shut up, Temari, you just want me to carry all your things! Hey, Little Brother, give me a hand.”

But all in all he wouldn't mind staying in the house- for a while that is, he was gonna move out one of these days!

Gaara rolled his eye before picking up two bags, and Temari began to follow after him. “Very well, Kankurou, I acknowledge that you were preoccupied. I'll move your deadline to Thursday."

Score!

"However, I want a 20-page report instead.”

Cling!

“What the hell Kankurou that was a 200 dollar vase!”

“What the hell Temari I bought it!”

Gaara sighed in annoyance, reasoning that he clearly was the more mature one in this family. He wondered what all these bags were for.

Obstacles [sandsib drabble]

Mon, 16 Jul 2007 22:20:32 GMT

Title. Obstacles
Characters. Temari and Gaara
Rating. G

Temari gazed over at Gaara for the second time before biting her lower lip. Her teal eyes glared at the shut wooden door, already deciding she didn't want to go pass the door, though Gaara was making it impossibly hard by standing behind her. Slowly, she placed her hand on the golden doorknob and just as quickly retraced it.

"Aww, Gaara do I have to?" She whined once again. He stared at her intensely not once hovering from his decision.

"Yes, you do," he answered, arms crossed and looking all too serious in his Kazekage robes.

"You do realize that I'm older than you? And that I don't have to listen to you?" Temari reasoned, turning once again to face the void face of Gaaara.

"And you do realize that I'm the Kazekage?" He mimicked. "And that you have to do whatever I say?"

"That's an abuse of power!" She yelled out in rage. Stomping her feet, she made an attempt to dash behind him, unfortunately a wall of sand stopped her in her tracks. "C'mon Gaara!" Temari groaned.

"Temari," Gaara said rising to his full height. "This is my last warning. Get in there now!" He said voice raising in dangerous levels. Immediately her old fears of Gaara resurfaced and she found herself almost yanking open the door she had been glaring at. She took a step in the darken room and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Kankuro."

Appearances

Tue, 03 Jul 2007 23:10:05 GMT

Title: Appearances
Pairing: Temari/Kankurou
Rating: PG
A/N: slight sandcest.

""I swear you take too long," Temari yelled out in frustration, falling backwards on the unmade bed. It was another typical day, the wind blowing softly, carrying small grains of sand, and the golden sun awaiting to hover above the darken desert land. The temperature was still a bit cool, making it the most opportune time to get some basic training done. There was the faint sound of voices, and movements as the village began to spring back to life.

It might have been a bit harsh for any teenager to get up at the crack of dawn, but being raised in the desert, Temari was perfectly used to it. In fact, she considered waking up no later than 5 o'clock to be laziness. Already dressed, with her four pigtails in perfect place, she continued to stare at the darken ceiling of her brother's room, briefly wondering how Kankurou could sleep here.

Divided into a workshop, and a bedroom, Kankurou had the largest room in the entire house, not to mention the most creepy. Crooked smiles with missing teeth and many pairs of discolored eyes, brought a certain type of a crawling feeling. Not that she was scared of puppets or anything, but Temari just had a hard time seeing how something so distorted could be considered beautiful and a work of 'art.' Kankurou really had no taste.

"Hurry up Kankurou," she yelled once again. "Why'd you have to sleep in? You know how Baki gets upset when we're late."

"Damn Temari," Kankurou called out from his bathroom. "Training doesn't start for another hour, it is four in the morning! Besides I was working on Karasu all night, I only got three hours of sleep."

"You and your hobbies," Temari muttered under her breath.

Typical, once again Kankurou had gone off into his overexcited mode, in which he'd spend the better part of the night calibrating and redesigning new traps for his puppet. There was no stopping him when he got like that, and he literally spent days awake. Usually Temari found him buzzing around his wooden puppets, still dressed in yesterdays clothes. But today she was actually surprised to see him dead asleep with his make up and clothes still on. Apparently, the buzz eventually wore down. After waking him up, he angrily stomped to the shower.

She closed her eyes briefly, briefly smelling wood and Kankurou's own scent on his sheets. It was rather early, now that she thought about it, and Kankurou was taking too long, probably putting make up on. Seriously her brother wore more make up than she did! She'd almost drifted off to sleep, until her sharp ears detected the sound of footsteps.

"Aw, is Ms. Morning Sunshine falling asleep?" came the teasing voice of Kankurou.

"Shut--" she suddenly lost her tongue, as she just stared opening at her brother. His brown hair was dripping wet from having taken a shower; his face was clean of the kabuki paint, he wore so often, to show two teasing green eyes and a strong jaw that was smiling so openly at her. He was wearing only a pair of cotton pants that were riding a bit low, while his bronze chest revealed muscles, she never knew he had.

Was it odd to say that this was the first time she had ever seen her brother like this? She knew it was silly, but she'd just came to the conclusion that Kankurou would always have his violet kabuki paint and hooded hat. The only time she remembered him without it was when they were kids, but now she could see that his body had well matured, and lost a lot of its chubbiness that it had before, who would have thought that he'd have such an amazing body, really what was he doing hiding it?

"What?" Kankuoru asked his handsome face showing a questioning look at her.

Temari shook her head. Suddenly realizing that it was very inappropriate to be checking out your little brother. "Nothing," she muttered, sitting up straight and looking elsewhere. "You just look different," she added.

"Of course I do. A puppeteer must be carefully to conceal his appearance," he explained opening a drawer to pull out a shirt, turning his back to her.

"Still you look different."

He looked himself at the mirror, his face changing to a frown. "Yeah, I see your point. Oh well." He shrugged his shoulders and continued to dress himself.

"You know... you look better that way. You should go out without your getup more often."

"You think?" Kankurou asked turning around to see her. Instantly she turned her head. "Hmm, I might get more girls," he joked putting a finger to his chin and looking pensive.

"In your dreams," Temari said shoving him playfully, but deep down she knew it wasn't far from true. She turned to the door, looking back at him for a few moments before once again telling herself it was Kankurou, after all, the guy wore make up and played with dolls, 'puppets' he would say, but still!

Taking the steps one by one, Temari briefly wondered whether Kankurou was actually serious about getting a girl. Nah, it was a joke right?

"Sorry, Temari, but I wouldn't date my sister," Kankurou laughed, his loud voice echoing in the halls, just as she was almost at the bottom of the steps.

"Like I was thinking about that," Temari yelled back, trying with all her might to avoid the blush that was creeping on her cheeks.

Bitter Irony [Sandsib drabble]

Sun, 27 May 2007 20:52:40 GMT

TItle: Bitter Irony
Characters: Temari and Kankurou
Rating: PG
Words: ~200

"I can't believe that out of all people it had to be you!" Temari bawled out in laughter. "I-I mean what are the chances...?"

"Would you shut up already?!" Kankurou yelled out gerrting even more annoyed than he already was. Sisters weren't like this! He expected her... well honestly he didn't know what, since Temari would always be Temari, despite just turning 25 two months ago. He should have gone to Gaara first, he was much more sympathetic, and definately wouln't have spent the last thirty minutes laughing at him.

"But Kankurou--" She choked out in laughter, obviously not finished with teasing him. "Isn't the irony too much?"

He glared at her. Maybe it was funny to her, but he certainly didn't think so! His wife just had to insist on having a child when she--no the entire world!-- knew that he hated children!

He must have jinxed himself after all these years. Either that or the Fates really have something against him.

"I can't believe I'm going to be changing diapers and singling lullabies!" Kankurou thought out loud in humiliation, already visualizing the future horror he would have to go through with these kids.

Yes, he would be a father all right.

"Don't worry," Temari smiled widely after finally getting a grip in herself. "I'll be a good aunt to my three adorable nieces!"

Oh, the bitter irony.

__________________________

Notes: This was largely inspired my a classmate's comment. Somehow we started talking about kids and I mentioned that I hated kids and I never want any. He started laughing and saying I'll probably be one of those people that end up with triplets or something even worse. That scared the crap out of me! O_o

Sibling Rivalry [sandsib drabble]

Tue, 15 May 2007 17:34:22 GMT

Title: Sibling Rivalry
Rating: G
Words: 260
Characters: Temari, Kankurou, mentions of Gaara and the Yondaime Kazekage

"I wonder what Kazekage-sama wants with us?" Kankurou thought out loud. Baki has stopped training early to annouce that the Kazekage had requested their presence. This must be important if the Kazekage had requested them. He was only ten years old, but this would be the third time seeing his father. All of which dealt with their youngest sibling.

"He's probably going to talk about Gaara."

Temari frowned. "Maybe Kazekage-sama won't mention Gaara. I mean we've gotten stronger. He's probably noticed."

"But not as strong as Gaara. Kazekage-sama only sees him."

She didn't re spond to her brother's statement because she knew that it was true. Since Gaara's birth, the Kazekage had gived their youngest brother a considerable amount of attention, much more than he had ever given them. Eventually, they figured out that the Kazekage was impressed with Gaara's tremendous strength; and from that day forward they reasoned that if they could some how supass Gaara then the Kazekage would actually see them.

"We just have to try harder," Temari spoke softly. "You'll see. Kazekage-sama will see us one day."

Kankurou nodded.

Both of them knew that they would never reach Gaara's level. He was invincible that's why the Kazekage favored him. Years and years of training would pass and still no progress would be made. But this rivalry only helped motivated the two children and brought hope that one day they could finally get the attention that they craved. That the Kazekage would finally acknowledge his forgotten children. And maybe, just maybe, they could finally call Kazekage-sama "Father."

Sympathy [sandsib drabble]

Mon, 07 May 2007 18:43:36 GMT

Title. Sympathy
Characters. the Sand Siblings
Rating. PG

"This has got to be the worst day of my life!"

The door slammed, then, echoing loudly in the spacious house. Kankuro shut his left eye in annoyance, already predicting Temari barging in and yelling at him for no reason. Really it was such a pain to have an older sister. He looked over at Gaara, who was busy writing a complicated letter to a federal lord, he continued his work easily, briefly making Kankuro wonder whether he was ignoring all the racket that was going on or if he was wearing ear plugs.

The angry stomping of footsteps told Kankuro that it was time for him to take his leave, but the door burst open before he had so much as a chance of standing up, and Temari barged in, looking none too happy. She gave him a look that said it was best just to nod your head and agree with whatever she was saying.

"You won't believe what happened!" Temari began, pacing back and forth, curling her hands into fist.

"No, but I'm guessing something bad happened," Kankuro answered. Temari merely ignored him and went off into an escalation on her shattered evening.

"First, he arrived one hour late! I started thinking I was in the wrong place! And then when he finally arrives, he had the guts to fall asleep!"

Typical. Whenever Temari had those rare opportunities to date, she went off into those bitchy outbreaks about how he could have done this and he could have done that. He could have given her a sympathetic pat in the back, but what was the point? She'd do the same thing all over again.

"Shh... hear that?" Kankuro whispered quietly putting his finger to his lips. Temari stopped her rambling and looked up at her brother. Her anger seemed to be disappearing and replaced by curiosity.

"Huh?" she asked spinning her head. The room was empty, except for her two brothers and it was a relative calm night. "I-I don't hear anything."

"You're not listening hard enough." Holding his index finger and thump together, it looked like he was about to pinch her, but oddly enough he brought his left hand to his chin.

"I'm playing the world's saddest song on the world's smallest violin," he snickered perfectly mimicking a miniscule violin. Temari pouted almost childishly.

"I don't even know why I came to you!"

"Neither do I, but you know what? I'm sick and tired of listening to your whining. I'm actually feeling sorry for the fool who had the guts to go out with you!"

"Why I outta--" Temari began getting ready to throw a fist at his direction.

"Enough," came the voice of Gaara. He stood from his desk and peered over at his siblings. Who would have thought Gaara would have been listening? He really was one to multitask. "I don't want to here your arguments. I'll deal with it Temari."

"Alright," she answered none to sure what Gaara was playing at, but deciding then that it was not best to anger him. The next day she received a huge apology about the night before and a chance to make it up. Temari made up her mind, then, to always come to Gaara first.

Kuroari

Mon, 07 May 2007 18:04:14 GMT

Title: Kuroari
Characters: Temari, Gaara, and mentions of Kankurou
Rating: T, implied violence
Words: ~300
Notes: Continuation of Karasu

Temari closed her teal eyes, wrapping herself deeper and deeper into the covers. The room was awfully warm, since no air circulated throughout the pitch black room. But still she found it cold. How long had she shut the world away? Had it been it three days? Or maybe three weeks? How long had she been cursing this cruel fate of a shinobi?

She knew this day was bound to come. She was no stranger to the injustice fate of a shinobi. Comrades would be there one day, and then be gone the next day. It was a normal thing that came with the life of a shinobi, because as long as there were missions there would always be the dangers that accompanied it.

Still Temari never thought it would have been him. She was the brash one, eager to fight and constantly toying with her enemies. Kankurou never thought it necessary to prolong a fight; he preferred things swiftly done and usually took out his enemy with a final blow. He knew when to withdraw from battle to keep his element of surprise. She always thought—though highly doubted—that she would be the first one to go, not him.

Temari closed her eyes tightly wanting the already darken room to grow even darker. No amount of darkness could hide away the same image that kept popping up over and over again. Three thick wool comforters covered her blonde head, but she still saw the grotesque head.

Walking into the dimly lit office of the Kazekage, she knew there was something wrong. An assorted bundle of weapons piled on the oak surface of the desk. Kunai, needles, and wooden limps made part of the assorted mass.

But what stood out the most was the horned head of Kuroari. A deep crack ran from the end of its jaw to the beginning of its forehead barely keeping the two sides of the head together. A horn was chopped off, while many of its teeth were missing from its gagged mouth. Both its painted eyes were gone, amplifying the dark shallows of the eye socket. Temari never understood the “Art of Puppetry” as Kankurou put it—would have put it—but seeing the decapitated head, she clearly read the horrors this puppet had gone through. It was almost as though Kuroari was recounting his terrifying tale; and she knew without a doubt that the cruel fate of a shinobi had finally caught up with them. Her breathing became uneven as a dreaded anticipation hit her.

“Sister,” Gaara had said dressed in his Kazekage robes. He seemed tired for only being twenty-three years old, but he spoke in a calm voice having gone through this ordeal so many times. “Our brother is not coming back.”

Karasu [sandsib drabble]

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 22:51:48 GMT

Title: Karasu
Characters: Gaara, mentions of Temari and Kankurou
Warning: Angst
Words: ~200
Rating: G

Gripping the end of the screwdriver, Gaara's eyes focused on concentration. This field was beyond his expertise. He knew next to nothing about puppetry, and yet he gave himself the task of restoring the almost-beyond-repaired Karasu. It would probably have been a lot easier to give it to a professional puppeteer instead of spending the entire night working on this. He always thought about doing that, but two weeks had already gone by and every night he'd turned the light on of the deserted workshop.

Temari hadn't come out of her room yet.

The screw twisted into the wooden surface and met with the surrounding metal. In the beginning he had more trouble trying to decide which tools to use and where to find it. But he quickly figured that out and slowly began bringing in the broken body parts together. When the screw could go no further, he looked up at his work. The jaw of the puppet was slanted with its teeth completely out of line.

Kankurou would have laughed at seeing Gaara's pathetic attempt to adjust Karasu's jaw. He would have.

Sighing to himself, Gaara put away the tools back into the drawer. The sun was about to rise and he needed to begin the new day's work. He opened the closet that held Karasu, going over the repairs that still needed to be done. Fiddling with the puppet's massive arms, he finally set it properly on its hook and stood back examining the toothy grin of Karasu on its scratched wooden surface. Gaara closed the door as old memories started to surface.

Kankurou always did like it when Karasu was in its perfect form.

Mr. Bear [sandsib drabble]

Mon, 23 Apr 2007 17:48:25 GMT

Title: Mr. Bear
Characters: the Sand Siblings, Gaara's old bear
Rating: PG
Words: ~200

"Hey look it's Gaara's old bear," Kankurou said half heartily bringing it up to show his sister. The blonde kunoichi looked over her shoulder to view a small dusty blotch of brown fur. She smiled briefly remembering the bear so long ago. It was the middle of the day when the sun was roasting the small village of Suna. Having completed a mission in record timing, both Kankurou and Temari had some extra time in their hands. Oddly enough the two siblings decided to spend the day cleaning the attic. It was sort of fun in a way, since they got to see photos and old toys from their short childhood. So far they found a lot of weapons, clothes, and most of Kankurou's old wooden puppets, but they never expected to find any of Gaara's belongings.

"I wonder if he's still attached to it?"

"I doubt it."

"You're right," Without a second thought Kankurou threw it to the side where it instantly got buried with other random things. The days continued regularly and the two siblings completely forgot about the whereabouts of the stuffed animal. Until Gaara asked the most unexpected thing to his siblings over dinner. "Where's Mr. Bear?"

It would have been an adorable question coming from a six year old, but this was psychopath Sabaku no Gaara. He would be infuriated if he didn't have that bear this instant. Excusing themselves they calmly left the dining table before dashing into a mad rush up the stairs. Panic surged in as they realized they saw the bear a few weeks ago. And that's where they found themselves right now, pacing nervously around the old attic looking worse than two parents in waiting.

"Don't tell me you lost the bear!" Temari shrieked out.

"You said it wasn't important!" Kankurou defended, but in reality he was freaking out as well. He cared so much about his old broken down puppets, Gaara would probably act the same.

"Okay let's just calm down," Temari said trying to be the rational one in the situation. "Will Gaara really kill us over a stuffed bear? I mean who is more important to Gaara, his two siblings or an old bear he had since childhood?"

They stopped their pacing to think about the question, and both came up with the same thing. "Crap, we are so dead!"

"This is bad! Gaara's gonna kill us!" Temari started pacing once again. "We have to find Mr. Bear!"

In a scurry, random objects aside, boxes were turned over, furniture was turned upside down leaving the clean attic looking worse than a house blown by a tornado. "Temari, I found it! I found Mr. Bear!" Kankurou said happily pushing the items aside.

Temari let a sound of relief. For a second, she was actually thinking on what her tombstone would say. But her happiness was gone and she gasped out loud.

"Where's it's head? Where is Mr. Bear's head?"

"Crap! You look for it. I'll get the sewing kit," Kankurou said putting the bear into her sister's hand and dashing out of the room. Putting the bear aside, she started throwing more objects aside, furiously. She would have cried when she saw the coal shaped eyes of Mr. Bear. Kankurou came running in right on time with the small white sewing box. The world was saved once again!

"What are you doing?" Gaara said from the doorway, as both Temari and Kankurou started laughing out loud in joy.

Maybe "Temari, brave beautiful fan yielding kunoichi" was good. It did have a nice ring to it.

Oldest [sandsib drabble]

Sun, 22 Apr 2007 21:52:55 GMT

Title: Oldest
Characters: Temari, Kankurou, and mention of Gaara
Rating: G
Words: 435

Since he was barely two years old, he thought over the same question over and over again. Right now he was thinking the same thing. Just how could it be true? How in all heaven and hell could this be true?

How could Temari actually be older than him?

He was taller, even when they were kids! He even looked older than her! Suna made a big deal about respecting your elders, but Temari
had abused that power for years! How many times had he heard the "I'm older," argument?

At least three times a day.

Fustrated, he'd even gone so far as to check both their birth certificates just to make sure it wasn't some made up tale. But the blasted number was inscripted clearly on the white paper. Temari: August 23, 88. Kankurou: May 15, 89.

It was a late Sunday night when Kankurou had taken the time to do a few repairs on Karasu. Everything was quiet in the house--for once-- as Gaara sat on the rooftop and Temari polishing her iron fan, but the peacefulness ended when a four pigtail kunoichi walked into his working area.

"I'm hungry," she said sitting on the chair opposite him.

"So?" he asked still working on Karasu.

"So? Get me some food," she ordered.

"Get it yourself."

She narrowed her eyes at him before going in for her usual trump card. "Kankurou, you have to do what I say! I'm ol--"

"Temari we were born thirteen months, eight days, and seven hours apart! It's not that big of a deal!" He said outraged pushing his tools aside.

She glared at him, but then pulled back her face into a smile. "You're right,"

"And another thing... huh?" He asked confused that he was actually getting his way for once.

"I said you're right," she said shrugging. "We weren't born that far apart, so its not a big deal. You shouldn't be doing errands for me. You should have someone else doing them."

For a minute, Kankurou couldn't believe it. He was finally getting his way after all these years!

"So why don't you tell Gaara to get me some food? You're two years older than him, so he has to do what you say," she said smugly.

"I hate you," he said narrowing his eyes at her and walking out.

"Make sure you don't get any squid on it!" Temari yelled out finding a new argument to use. Maybe being oldest wasn't that big of a deal that is if you had a younger psychopathic little brother. Besides it did have its perks.

Kankuten drabbles

Sat, 21 Apr 2007 22:29:24 GMT

Kankuten Drabbles
Ratings from G to PG
Words about 200

Advice from a Stranger (185 Words)
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes a stranger knows exactly what to say.

Kicking another stone, Tenten muttered even more profanities under her breath. She was definitely pissed right now, and Lee wasn't in sight.

"Now why's a pretty girl like you sulking around for?" came an amused male voice hidden in the trees.

"I'm not sulking!" she said getting even angrier.

"Seems that way to me."

“Well maybe you should get your eyes checked," she said not minding her rudeness. The stranger laughed. "Really what's wrong?" he finally said.

"Well if you must know. I was left out of another mission! The entire village practically went except me! Everyone probably think’s I’m not strong enough."

"Konoha sure is weird," the stranger sighed. "So what if you were left out that doesn't mean your weak that just means their the one's with the bad eyes. You have to see your own strength instead of others."

"Really?" She smiled for the first time. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sulking anyway," he said dashing away through the shadows. Tenten couldn't catch the stranger's face, but she could have sworn she saw violet.

-----

Untitled (259 Words)
Rating: PG
Summary: Tenten hated it when she was thought less of because she was a girl.

The bells on the door jingled awaking Tenten from her boredom. A Sand shinobi walked in dressed in black wearing violet kabuki paint, his hands inside his pocket looking like he was bored. "Yo, I'm looking for a mace," he said not paying attention to the attendant, he turned to the counter. "A girl?"

"Yes, I'm a girl," Tenten answered sharply. She really did hate it when guys walked into her father's weapons shop and expected some big tough guy. "And we have maces over here," she said walking away from the counter and going to a high shelf. Pulling a step later from the side, she went to retrieve the metal.

"Maybe I should get it," he offered noticing how high the mace was on the shelf.

"I've got it," Tenten answered willing to prove that she was just as good as any other boy. She stood on her toes, but still found it too high to reach. He said something again, but she was too preoccupied in getting the mace. Gripping the metal object, she started to make her way down the steps, smirking widely at him.

"I told you I've--" she let out a yelp her foot missed a step on the later and fell over backwards. Expecting to fall head first into the wooden floor, she opened her eyes to peer into another green eyes.

"Kankurou what's--" Temari said but stopped as the sight. A girl was on top of her little brother. Both of them staring deeply into each others eyes.

-----

Tardiness (113 Words)
Rating: PG
Summary: She was late again.

“Sorry I’m late,” Tenten said completely out of breath, her face was flushed red, while bits of her hair stuck out.

“Tenten, what is wrong with you! This is the third time you’ve been late you a mission!” Lee cried out at his teammate’s odd behavior.

“This tardiness will affect your youthfulness!” Gai joined in with his pupil’s outbreak

“I just lost track of time,” she said sheepishly, smiling to ease away suspicions. “I promise it won’t happen anymore!” This seemed to please both Lee and Gai, since they grinned widely and went off in their ridiculous challenges.

“Tenten,” Neji said walking beside her, “Why do you have purple paint on your neck?”

-----

Anniversary (100 words)
Rating: G
Summary: Every year it's the same.

"I'm sorry!" Tenten cried out once again that night. In effect Kankurou turned the page of the book he was reading, completely ignoring her rants for the last hour.

"I promise I won't forget next year!"

"You said that last year and the year before that!"

"But this time I really mean it!"

"You said that too."

"Please... Kankurou, don't be mad at me," she said softly bowing her head down.

"Come here," he said pulling her onto his lap, delicately he lifted her head. "I can never be mad at you even though you'll probably forget our next anniversary."

-----

Requests (111 words)
Rating: PG
Summary: She always gets what she wants from him.

"How can you say something like that?"

"Easy. No."

"Naruto and Hinata have one, in fact they have three!"Tenten pouted putting her hands on her hips.

"Good, you can borrow one."

"You're brother, Kankurou, your little brother is about to become a father before you! Don't you feel anything about that?"

"Ugh... I don't know why you want kids for. Their loud, dirty, and cry all the time," he said rising to put away his tools. She didn't say anything.

"I-I just... want a baby."

He stopped his tracks to view the solemn expression of his wife and sighed deeply. "Alright, just one."

Giggling [sandsib drabble]

Thu, 19 Apr 2007 20:01:16 GMT

Title: Giggling
Characters: Garra, Temari, Kankuoru, a few fangirls
Words: ~150
Rating: PG

Gaara really didn't know how he got in this. One minute he was walking along side Kankurou and now he was surrounded by three girls that appeared out of nowhere. He didn't have that much experience with girls, but he still found them odd. For instance, what was so funny that they kept giggling over?

"Oh, Kazekage-sama I'm so glad you came out! We haven't seen you for such a long time!" a brunette said holding Gaara's hand and batting dark eyelashes at him.

Gaara stood stoic watching the three girls. "I've gotten a large amount of work accumulated," he said.

They giggled at his short sentence and smiled sweetly at him. "C'mon Kazekage-sama, let's do something fun!" Battling their eyelashes, two of them grabbed his hands.

"I really have to get going," Gaara said but they just started giggling again.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You work so hard for the village, " a blonde pouted cutely putting her head on his broad shoulder. Soon a raven haired girl grabbed his left arm.

"You really should take a break once in a while, Kazekage-sama," the raven haired girl said but was pushed aside by a brunette who quickly took her place.

"Yeah, I know where we can go Kazekage-sama to have some fun," the brunette purred rubbing her rather large chest on him arm.

"You were supposed to be watching him! Not shopping for new parts!" Temari scowled, marching down the marketplace keeping a sharp eye out.

"I was!" Kankurou yelled out in indignation. "He just slip when I wasn't looking. I don't see what you're so worry about. He can take care of--" He didn't finish the sentence as they came to view their youngest brother surrounded by a swarm of girls, constantly giggling and rubbing his arm.

"Now I see what you we're so worry about, Temari," Kankurou noticed realizing that Gaara was oblivious as those girls were practically eating him alive . "Huh?" he said not finding his sister by his side anymore.

There were a few shrieks echoing loudly in the marketplace as Temari pulled the brunette off Gaara's arm, by her hair. Sensing danger the other girls ran off.

"Don't mess with my baby brother!" She called out angrily punching a fist in the air.

Sunday Mass [sandsib drabble]

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 18:56:27 GMT

Title: Sunday Mass
Characters: the Sand Siblings
Rating: T, minor language
Words: ~500
Notes: No offense taken to any religions, whatsoever.

"Temari, look at this," Kankurou whispered. Emitting a thin chakra string from his index finger he touched the brown locks of a little girl sitting in the bench in front of him.

She gasped out loud at the fuzzy feeling. Her parents looked down at her disapprovingly. She muttered something and started to randomly pat her body.

Temari and Kankurou both wheezed out in laughter.

"Do it again!" Temari said eagerly.

"Sure we'll try the bishop..." he said mischievously looking at the older man in front of the room yapping and yapping away about who knows what.

"Will you two shut up!" Gaara barked again for the seventh time. The bishop stopped for a minute from his preaching and took a quick glance at the three siblings sitting at the far back. Clearing his throat he continued.

Taking the warning from their little brother, Kankurou and Temari sat still. But that lasted for only a few seconds.

"How long do we have to be here?" Kankurou asked putting his head on his palms.

"Temari checked her wristwatch.”Another hour."

Kankurou moaned out loud. "Why the hell does Baki want us to come here anyway?" For some strange reason, their sensei wanted them all to attend Sunday's mass to do them some good. Instead they were bored and misbehaving like little children.

"Don't say that."

"What?"

"You're not supposed to curse in a cathedral."

"How come?"

"Because it's a 'House of God” or something like--"

"Shut up or I'll kill both of you!" Gaara interrupted Temari. There was a time when that sent chills up their spines but now that Gaara was more or less stable. It was actually the friendly threats that siblings gave one another.

"That's a great thing to say, Gaara especially in a 'House of God,'" Kankurou mimicked Temari's words.

The red head glared at him. Moving a finger, sand appeared out of nowhere.

"Is it just me or does the bishop --SHIT!" The puppet master yelled out loud, dropping the thick heavy book on the tile floor. It echoed loudly in the spacious cathedral, bringing all the attention to them.

"Kankurou, I told you not to curse!" Temari scowled, not quite realizing that people were staring at them.

"Fuck you Temari! Oww... damn, Gaara, you almost cut off my toe!"

Boy was that the wrong thing to say.

The old bishop gasped out loud, and began to mutter a quick prayer.

Temari was strangling Kankurou with her bare hands, yelling out a mouthful of colorful words at him. When both siblings finally realized that all eyes were all them, they stopped.

"Umm..." Temari said smiling nervously at all the strangers.

"Hi..." Kankurou said lamely waving his hand at the shocked faces.

"We are going to Hell," Gaara muttered putting his face in his hands.

Chores [sandsib drabble]

Tue, 17 Apr 2007 22:30:53 GMT

Title: Chores
Characters: the Sand SIblings
Rating: G
Words: ~150

"What's the matter, Gaara?" Temari asked handing the dish to Kankurou. Placing it on the small pile of wet dishes, he turned his gaze to see their younger brother standing by the doorway. Gaara ignored the question and stood silently by the doorway.

Soap spuds slowly dripped down Temari's hands into the floor, as she stopped her work and turned to view him. "Gaara?"

The red head continued to stare at them.

"You alright?" Kankurou asked stopping his work as well.

Slowly he approached them them.

Each step, causing Temari and Kankurou to draw in their breath in fear. For all they knew, he could be planning of a way to murder them on the spot.

However what he did was far from expected. Picking up a spare dish rag, he started drying the wet dishes on the side.

"You two take too long," he muttered putting the dish away.