#BUT SHE TOOK SHINIGAMI'S EYES TWICE

[bernard-the-rabbit]

I'm melodramatic

It's psychosomatic

I'm plastic, fantastic

[hana-no-seiiki]

PLATONIC! YANDERE SIBCON! DEATH THE KID x READER

888 FOLLOWER SPECIAL (Thank you all so much!)

warnings: incest but as a joke. reader is biologically related to dtk, death and asura so they implicitly look alike. reader is described as perfectly symmetrical. angst.

status: unedited.

i.

Your father couldn’t have been more blatant when it came to favoritism. It was always [Y/N] this, and [Y/N] that. As the youngest out of all your siblings you were given special priority as a child up until the present.

‘[Y/N] is just the cutest, can’t you see?’

What was even worse was that Kid absolutely enabled such behavior.

Instead of being bitter like a normal person, he joined in on the spoiling.

You wouldn’t have minded it if it was just that. Who wouldn’t love to be spoiled by gods themselves?

But Kid always piled nagging on top of it all. In fact, it was twice as much as how he’d drown you in gifts.

‘[Y/N], fix your posture! What if you get back problems at a young age?!’

You were slouching for just a moment. In your room. Alone. How’d he even get in—

‘[Y/N] what is with your hair ? Your symmetry, it’s ruined!’

You only had a single lock of hair out of place. You had just woken up. Your breakfast was abandoned as he had yanked you to take a bath and style your hair.

“[Y/N]—“

“兄上!” You yelled. Swerving your body so fast that you almost fell down just to meet him eye to eye. You took a deep breath first, calming yourself as to keep your voice steady. “Please leave me alone. Aren’t you supposed to be away on a mission ? “

“But—“

“They’re right, Kid. Besides the sooner we wrap things up the sooner you’ll get to hang out with [Y/N]-様” Liz came to your rescue. Honestly if it weren’t for her, you were sure Kid would have been literally glued to you with how clingy he could be. He treated you like the most entrancing painting there could ever be, as if a second not looking at you would kill him.

At the realization of such an idea. Kid finally composed himself and dashed off. With not a farewell or goodbye wave in sight.

“Don’t worry, [Y/N]-様! We gotcha covered.” Patty squeezed your cheeks. Even she wasn’t immune to your cute charms.

“My wish to be left alone extends to the both of you. ”

“Eek!” The two teleported 5 feet away from you as they heard the tone of your voice. Despite being a powerless Shinigami, your presence demanded fear and respect. You were known for being an even more uptight version of your brother which was an achievement in itself.

“R-right! On our way!”

ii.

As the son of the embodiment of law and order. Death the Kid had a terrifying obsession with perfection. Particularly the perfection that is symmetry. The beauty of balanced reflection in its most immaculate form. The aesthetic of faultless proportions and details that make the whole so pleasing to the eyes.

The aesthetic of you.

It was natural for siblings to lovingly hate each other’s existence. Kid has literally battled his own brother.

But in that principle’s wake was your existence.

His passion to beat Asura seemed so human, so insignificant when it came to you.

Unlike him you had no ‘Lines of Sanzu’ and was thus never considered to be a candidate to become a Death God. You were never a threat. So he had no problem accepting his Father’s doting nature towards you.

You were always so cute. Always working hard for a future you wanted. A future that’ll never be yours. Your ambition was so infectious that along with succeeding his father, he wanted to be perfect for you.

You only deserved the best brother. One who had his lines completed. One that didn’t look like ugly, asymmetrical pig that he was in the present.

You weren’t home, as always. But Kid had gotten skilled at finding where you are. Call it his brotherly instincts but the most it would take for him to find you was a day.

You were gone for a month.

When Kid found you, you looked even more aggrieved than usual. The scowl on your face made heavier when you saw him.

The talk on the way back home was awkwardly silent. Despite that he still cherished the moment. It was rare to have someone as amazing as you alone all to himself.

“兄上?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you such a creep?”

“[Y-Y/N] . . . “ You gaze at your brother as crocodile tears fell from his beautiful face.

“If I disappeared that means I don’t want people to look for me. So don’t waste your time searching. Why can’t you understand that I want to be alone?”

“But—“

“Look for me and I’ll hate you. More than I already do.”

“You . . . hate me ?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” You blew a strand out of your face that Kid often waxed to keep things ‘perfect’. Surprised that he doesn’t comment on it. His eyes have completely dimmed.

“. . . No . . .”

“If you died I wouldn’t care. At all. So don’t extend your sympathy towards me. It’s disgusting not to mention patronizing.” The distance between you two grew more as he stayed still and you kept walking.

Your final words to him goes unheard at that point. “You’re the next God of Death. Respectfully speaking, act like one.”

Kid couldn’t stop thinking about your words from before. Siblings naturally had love-hate relationships. But hearing you say that up front still left him shaken.

During battle, he kept muttering and muttering, completely unfocused. He would have been hurt terribly if it weren’t for the others shoving him around. Even then, he didn’t so much as budge as he was thrown to a wall. “No . . . it couldn’t be . . . have they perhaps . . . “

“What’s up with him?” Black Star stared at him while cleaning his nose with his pinky. The fight wasn’t dire at the very least and he was used to Kid’s unorthodox personality, but this time the young Shinigami was somehow more out of it than usual.

“Less talking, more fighting.” Maka scolded. She had long since given up trying to get Kid to fight and instead instructed Liz and Patty to wield each other. It wasn’t ideal but it was at least functional, unlike a certain raven-haired young man right now.

“That’s it! They must’ve hit puberty!” Death the Kid suddenly shouted. The side of his fist hits his palm as a lightbulb switches on in his mind.

“Not this again . . . “ Liz rolled her eyes. She tried moving him from an incoming attack but he doesn’t budge an inch.

“Oh, my poor [Y/N] they must be so confused! They don’t hate me, it’s just that I’ve been lacking as a brother!” His eyes sparkled at the revelation that hit him. “I must go back and tell them how much I love them!” He took off, forsaking the rest to find [Y/N].

He gets about a meter away before Liz carried him back.

“Nuh-uh. We have a kishin to take down!”

“My sibling takes priority!” He flailed around in her arms, slapping her in the process.

“Even I’m not like this towards Patty. You need to stop worrying about them so much. You’re more like a nagging wife at this point! Face it, Kid. They don’t like you much less want you around all the time.” Liz scolded him. Getting more and more irritated at his behavior by the second. You’d think she’d get used to his sibcon tendencies, but it still managed to amaze her how little he cared for anything but [Y/N].

“Oh no . . . what have you done?” Maka covered her mouth in shock.

“H-Huh? What do mean? I just talked some sense into—“ Liz doesn’t notice he stopped thrashing til he screeched into her ears.

“That’s it! You’re a genius Liz!”

“I am?”

“In order to keep my baby sibling safe and sound I have to marry them!”

“Wait what— That’s not what I meant—“

“I’ll get the papers sorted right away!”

And he’s gone. Poof. Just like that. Liz completely frozen in place.

“I pray [Y/N]-様 extends you their mercy.” Tsubaki, now in her human form, bowed. Genuinely fearing for Liz’s well-being.

Patty, on the other hand, stuck her tongue out. “Bye Bye, sis!”

“Patty, not you too!”

iii.

MONTHS EARLIER…

Your Father was an eccentric being. He annoyed you to no end but thankfully not as much as your brother did.

You inherited his obsession with Peace. Something that you defined as moments that you were alone. Free to just exist and not worry about being perfect all the time. Peace to you was the lack of your brother, the embodiment of chaos.

You’ve always wished to be separated from him, but knowing there was a potential for that to actually happened gave you the first taste of fear.

Is this what humans felt? This adrenaline rush, this excitement? All that in addition to dread and sadness at the same time?

“Is it true?”

“What is it, my darling?”

“Is it true that when 兄上’s lines connect . . . you . . . “

“Where did you hear this, child?” Death moved forward. His large body shadowed yours.

You neither move away or closer. Instead you stayed still. Eyes firmly kept in place. On his.“Answer me, 父上.”

“Yes.” The god looked to the skies. Even he had a time to depart from this world. Death was something not even the divine can escape.

“Will I also . . . ?”

“I don’t know.” His large gloved hand extended to pat your head.

“Then he’ll be all alone?”

“Hopefully not. Are you worried for him—“

You replied before he could even finish, “Why would I be? He’s the one responsible for worrying between the two of us.”

Death then picked you up. Holding you close to his face.

“父上？”

“Yes, my darling?”

You said nothing, stepping forward to hold your creator in an embrace.

“I love you too, child.”

iv.

THE PRESENT…

“[Y/N]?”

Death the Kid isn’t human. Far from it. He’s a god. He represented Law and Order; Death.

But in the face of all this, his responsibilities, his status, his entire being. He feels so utterly meek, so awfully human when he was with you.

Gods aren’t supposed to have favorites. Gods are supposed to maintain a balance when it came to their affections over mortals.

But for you, and only for you. Kid lowers himself. To love, to fear, to worship.

“What?” Your small hands barely half the size of his reached to cup his face. “Spit it out, 豕.”

“Will you stay with me . . . for the rest of eternity?”

“You’re my family aren’t you? Of course I will.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. You’ll always be here for your brother.”

“Tch. Misplaced worries is a weakness, get rid of it.” Your hands moved to leave his face, but he doesn’t let it happen. Instead he traps it there, where it belonged.

“Anything for you, my dearest sibling.”

Right. Kid had nothing to worry about. You were here with him. Living, breathing. Still as perfect as you’ll ever be. You were all that he had. You were all that he needed.

Still. He could not shake away the feeling of nothingness within his heart.

Notes: [These are mostly for me + explanations so feel free to skip] Y/N uses formal speech and ways to call their family members.

For Kid they use, Aniue and for Death they call him Chichiue which means exalted or honorable brother and father respectively.

It’s only when they asked Death to answer them that they drop the formalities and use casual language. But even then they still call him exalted father.

From what I studied, formal speech in some situations can be quite rude and robotic. So despite seeming like they respect their fam they’re actually being condescending if not distant. I might be completely wrong though so feel free to correct me.

It’s kinda like going up to friend of yours for years and using the same extremely polite language you might use for strangers or seniors in work.

Lastly, in case you didn’t understand; in part iv DTK replaces [Y/N] but made them more childlike, completely changing the way they spoke. Mirroring the way Death created him to be a better version of Asura. Also 4 / IV sounds like Death in Japanese.

Anddd a little reminder that whenever I tag a character as Yandere that means they have unhealthy ways to love. Please do not romanticize or seek to replicate it in real life. Despite adoring his sibling, Kid subconsciously looks down on them and sees them as powerless. True love always comes with respect people. He also changes a ton of personality traits for the replacement, only keeping their looks and disdain towards him. He only ever ‘loved’ certain parts of them.

Thank you for reading and for the 888 (now 900+) followers!

TRANSLATIONS:

兄上 — Aniue — (Archaic) Exalted / Honorable Brother

様　— Sama — Formal suffix/honorific.

父上 — Chichiue — (Archaic) Exalted / Honorable Father

豕 — Buta — Pig

©️ hana-no-seiiki 2023

[ichinoue]

Thoughts? Fullbring is the ability of love and it only opened for Rukia when it could have been used for his future wife

https://twitter.com/IchiRukispace/status/1696175283471094148?t=0sn-UOrhFYVyFzRgvXHhyQ&s=19

I mean, I feel like they're leaping over the object affinity in regards to fullbrings (i.e. the love of the object), as well as taking Chad's speech about pride and replacing it with love.

Quoting from the bleach wiki on fullbrings:

Object Affinity: By developing an affinity for a particular object, a Fullbringer can alter its form, granting powers that vary greatly among individuals. This affinity can be defined by one’s love for the object in question, or simply by an overall fondness for it. As such, this power is usually awakened through a strong emotion associated with the object, such as pride. Using this affinity, Fullbringers pull out the object’s soul and boost it with their own, transforming it in the process. 

Riruka says that you're drawing out the maximum power of something a person loves, a physical object. Ginjo loved his pendant, Riruka loved so many things she collected them in a dollhouse.

So Ichigo tries to think of a physical object that he loves or is attached to, or that's with him all the time, and obviously it ends up being his shinigami badge. Because that's what he loves, what that badge represents--protecting.

Chad then tells Ichigo to use pride. Not love, but pride. Unlike with the object affinity, the word love is never used here. And even if it were, I feel that people tend to conflate Kubo's use of "love" and "the heart" with romantic love, when it's about the bonds between people (as seen in Kaien's speech, and six hearts beat as one, etc.) Chad tells him to think of moments that he took pride in his soul reaper powers (and not, as you see, to think of the person he's supposedly in love with lmao). To which Ichigo responds there's too many moments/he felt pride all along, remembering multiple instances of his nakama, and Rukia is the last thought, rightfully so, as she is the one who gave Ichigo those powers in the first place, and her disappearing before his eyes was a representation of those powers being lost.

So, I think they're conflating what Riruka said about love of the object (the badge) with romantic love being the emotion Ichigo used to draw out the power of that object. But instead of love, Ichigo drew on pride. Or you could even say that he drew on pride as well as love, his love of protecting, of being a shinigami because that meant he could protect. But romantic love? That's not what's being presented here.

Nor would it make sense for that to be presented, given that Kubo said that romance is only supplementary in Bleach. The platonic, nakama bonds and "the power of friendship!!" like what Ichigo has with Rukia, is obviously going to be the one at the forefront in a moment like this, not the romantic bond with a love interest/future wife (although it's worth noting Orihime was shown twice in his memories of pride). She's there, but she's not at the forefront, and that's okay, because she is where the romance was at, and Bleach is a shounen. Kubo wasn't going to put Ichigo and his future wife front and center all the time when romance wasn't the focus. That's basic shounen formula, and people need to understand this lol

But, as per usual, IR fans always try to rewrite Ichigo's most notable trait--his desire to protect--as a desire to be with Rukia. Even towards the end of this arc, when he thinks he's lost his powers once again and is crying in the rain about how helpless he feels that he can't protect anyone...they still think he's crying about Rukia lol.

[reiiishii]

@jinjahime said: " you have no business here, shinigami. " pinprick sickly green iris rests amid a pitch black sclera, the heavy scent of acrid smoke permeating the air around them : wazawai had heard from chōshin that there would likely be shinigami involvement after he'd gone to threaten the hanyō jinja hime and saw for himself that she'd married one—it seemed she had her ancestor's predilection for spitting in the face of all that came before. " whatever business you may think you have, i can assure you, you do not. we do not meddle in your affairs—you needn't meddle in ours. " surveying the woman before him, he tilts his head back, hands shifting to rest in the abyss of his kimono's sleeves. " amusing . . . for all that your title carries it, i never thought i'd meet a shinigami who reeks so much of death. " Yōkai Arc // you bet your sweet beppy I'm accepting asks like this

She had decided to wander Karakura town after her meeting with Uno to kill time before Shiki met back up with the captain and her sister (Wherever they were), but this wasn't the time killing activity she had in mind.

A hand rested to her nose at the smell of smoke, her eyes watered from it- and the man before her only put her massively on guard.

So this was what they meant by how DANGEROUS things would be; it was her first time coming face to face with another yōkai that wasn't Uno... and he wasn't friendly. A quick snap of her head towards him due to his comment made her drop her hand and rest on the blade hidden underneath her coat.

The whispers on the wind were louder, restless, angry even... and they spoke again... these were different from what she was used to hearing.

"...what's it to you?" She finally formulated her words, remaining on her guard the entire time. "I was simply speaking with someone about something, can't I do that?" Her eyebrow quirked just a touch, though the expression on her face faded immediately another whip of her head to look around.

There it was again. First in Urahara's shop, now twice being around this guy...

Shiki needed to get back to Soul Society and use what she was told, what she was taught in order to keep them ahead of whatever was coming.

But she took a small step back, the grip on her Zanpakuto growing tighter, white knuckling the handle.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She did. And it was then silence embraced the area; Shiki could feel the boney hands of her zanpakuto's spirit resting, ghosting her shoulders- he wouldn't let her willingly be put in danger.

"As I said, I was simply speaking to someone about their health, I'm a doctor so I can't disclose what it was about. I do apologize." Another boldfaced lie, "that must be what you're sensing."

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Regarding that "what if light got Gelus's notebook and Misa got Ryuk's" ask, since Light would have gotten Gelus's probably thousand year lifespan added to his, do you think he'd feel comfortable enough to make the Shinigami eye deal? And if so, would he be unstoppable?

Anon's referring to this post.

Would He Take the Deal?

The thing is, Light can't be certain that's the case. Rem tells him as much, sure, but he has no reason to take her word for it. (As it is, canonically, Misa doesn't last very long after Light dies and is not presumably killed by a notebook. earlier than expected so a Shinigami can reap the rewards). She does the eye deal twice after getting both Gelus's and Rem's lifespan, but that exponential division may have gotten her down to only a few years versus thousands. It's possible a Shinigami killed her/she died early but it's also possible that wasn't the case.

Regardless, Light was hesitant with Ryuk for the same reasons. He had no idea how long he had left to live but could assume it was meant to be quite a while (indeed, Ryuk ends up killing Light before his natural lifespan reaches its end). Light as a young healthy man presumably had a while left but he didn't want to cut it shorter than he could knowing he's on a limted timespan.

This case would be the same, I imagine, he gets more time than he expected but it won't be enough to do what he wants and he won't cut it in half for what he sees as a luxury/a useful tool he can live without.

Would He Be Unstoppable?

No.

Light in canon effectively had the eyes for most of his time as Kira. He met Misa within the first year of being Kira, who gladly used the eyes for him, and then got the eyes back for her, and then Mikami later took the eye deal.

He was still stopped.

The eye deal brings certain benefits in that Light himself can see names and other information, and with L could quickly get him L's name without L even realizing, but it doesn't necessarily make him unstoppable. As it is, Light getting L's name very early nearly happened with Misa, but L got very very lucky in that he managed to arrest Misa just in time.

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

hello dear I hope you are fine , can you please write Ichigo x reader , Reader and Ichigo are best friends and Reader is an alternative Soul Reaper like him and she is extremely powerful like Ichigo She loves Ichigo but knows that he has a crush on Orihime, during a fight yhwach They and Aizen were able to defeat him, but before he died yhwach kill reader and she dies. I hope you write the reaction of others as well, especially Rukia upon hearing the death of her best friend

I apologize for my long request, and I also like your page very much. I always encourage you

Hello!

Thank you for requesting!

I am doing ok, with another tendinitis issue ( that's why requests are slow , sorry :c) how about you?

I truly appreciate your support! Thank you so much <3 and don't worry about long requests!

I hope this is of your liking! Please let me know what you think!

TW: Death mention, injury, blood mention.

Tsuki's Note: I did not read the manga so this might be a bit bs-tery! Sorry!

Tsuki's Note 2: I hope i remembered everyone?

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This was the final battle against the Quincy's. The battle against their king. You were a very powerful Shinigami despite being only a substitute shinigami. You have been to so many battle with your friends and crush, Ichigo.

You two always battled side by side. You were a great duo and each and every fight made you fall harder for him. But you knew this was an unrequired loved - he loved Orihime - the man himself has admitted that to you.

You cannot lie this broke your heart, but you also knew - like many others- Orihime also liked him, so he had a big chance and you rooted for them.

At this time, once again, you were sid by side with ichigo and.. well, Aizen. Despite everything you needed his help to defeat Yhwach. The fight was tough, there were several moments you thought you would lose.

That thought became true, for you at least. At some point, the three of you were sent blasting away by Yhwach. While you blinked away the fogginess of your eyes, you heard and saw Yhwach silhouete aiming an arrow at the body next to you.

You could feel the reiatsu of the man next you belong to Ichigo, he wouldn't be able to dodge it or to defend it. So you moved. You moved by instinct.

You shielded Ichigo being hit yourself, you could see his despair in his eyes and hear his sorrow by how he yelled your name. You took a deep breath and smiled:

"You fool! What are you sitting there for? Move! Go catch him! I will be fine!"

The man didn't even try to argue with you, you were right he had to move. But as he passed by you, Ichigo whispered:

"If you die i will kill you, got it?"

You laughed. But you did not answer him, you knew were not gonna make it - your liver was injured, it was matter of minutes until you died.

You could not let Ichigo know, so you did your best to attack long range for as long you could. Until your vision turned black, the world became quiet, every presence faded. All you could see was the immense white ahead.

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When the battle was over and Aizen was arrested, again, a sense of relief reached everyone. Ichigo went looking for you, the place where he could last feel your presence. Upon arriving there he called for you, once... twice... thrice.... nothing.

He started yelling desperately. At this point Chad, Rukia, Renji, Yoruichi and Ishida came to help looking for you. The one who found you was Rukia. She called the boys and Orihime. asking her to heal you.

Orihime tried once, but failed. She tried again and yet, nothing. On her third attempt she was stopped by Yoruichi. It was no use, you were long gone.

Ichigo fell to his knees next to you. His expression was blank, Orihime and Rukia started crying and were comforted by Yoruichi and a devastated Renji.

Chad placed a trembling hand to Ichigo's shoulder and Ishida fell silent, regret and sorrow flashing on his face.

Yoruichi carried your body back to Soul Society so you could have burial.

All of your friends were upset by your loss, some were numb than others - this war took many lives. But Ichigo took it harder. You were his best friend, his partner in crime, the one to fight with him through and through and now a piece of him was gone.

It took him several days to recover from your loss. Sometimes, when they were all hanging out he would call out your name if you were not coming along, only to turn and see nobody, no answer.

Every anniversary of your death, he would bring your favourite snack to your grave and update you on his life events. He did this every year until the end.

Rukia still remembered how brave and courageous you were. She kept all the kind others you have said to her, close to her heart.

Whenever she visited you, she would bring a ribbon. Each time a different color.

Renji also held close all the fights you fought together. How strong you were.

He visited your grave with Rukia and would whisper some old memories of you then.

Orihime also took a long time to recover from the loss. But she noticed she had to toughen up a bit for Ichigo. She still packed extra food for you every now and then.

She visited your grave alone, because Ichigo liked to go alone, she respected that. She would leave a sweet for you and update you on her life. Ask you Advices just like she did when you were alive.

Chad was also greatly affected. He Kept mostly to himself, but he was oddly quiet.

Whenever he visited your grave he took the time to clean it thoroughly. He leaved it squeaky clean.

Ishida felt a lot of guilt. He felt like it was partially his fault, even if everyone told him he could not have possibly foreseen this. It took him a long time to come to terms with your death, but he eventually accepted it was not his fault.

Whenever he visited you, He would briefly talk to you and update about everyone and just a bit about himself. At first he apologized to you over and over, but with time that was replaced by reassurance - he would let you know if everyone was really happy or not.

You passed away holding the secret of the unriqueried loved.

You never told anyone and you tried your best to hide it.

You were gone hoping your friends would live a happy, long life.

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Thank you for reading!

I hope this was of your liking!

[ffeelann]

DESIGNER — Soul Eater Evans x femReader Short Fanfic (Chapter One)

I have open writing commissions!!!

A soul eater short fanfic bc I absolutely love them uwu, enjoyyy

WRITING AND TRANSLATING COMMISSIONS

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He hated replacing his summer clothes with his winter ones, specially because those things are just fun when your responsability is going to school, pass exams, go home and hang out with friends while you look cool with them.

The thing is, if you were a student at this academy where, well, you were just responsable of everyones in the world life, you probably wouldn´t have much time to look that cool everytime. Some students would always wear the same clothes, others would wear things that made them look more serious… and some of them would keep wearing that weird looking promotion shirt from that Death City students market.

But Soul loved to be a single peace of art at his own, and everyones, eyes. He would be lying if he said he didn´t planned each and every outfit just to have something that made him tick, something interesting would always be in his clothes just to make him look like him.

He was almost in love with his own fashion sense. And sometimes, in some missions, he tought bad guys were bad just because they commited crimes… one of them, and the worst: was ruining his loved clothes.

In their last unpleasant meeting with a kishin in noth, this idiot had ruined his favorite jacket, and that thing was expensive when he bought it, so now the price was at least twice than the last time he looked for it.

And that made him upset. He liked some clothes from the local market but, in general, they were a bit expensive, even when he divided his money with Maka´s to pay rent.

Soul was completely annoyed the entire trip back home. The kishin even hurted his arm so now, the jacket had blood in it. He was horribly upset for that, because he didn´t had any piece that combined just fine with his clothes, and he was finding this out just now that he was organizing his winter clothes.

Lord Shinigami had his eye on him and his meister, in case of things were going bad, and because the last time he wasn´t looking, they took the wrong soul. So when he saw them, and Lord Shinigami saw Soul that hurted both phisically and in style way, he said something about it.

He mentioned someone that, in that moment, was meaningless, because he was so mad he didn´t want to be a part of that conversation at all.

But now, that name could mean something.

—Maka, do you remember what Lord Shinigami said?

—He´s the principal, he says lots of things all the time. Be more specific— she left her book for a minute.

—When the kishin hurted my arm and ruined my jacket— he showed her his ripped up jacket— Remember? Well, he mentioned someone, but I can´t remember who.

—Oh, to fix it? He was talking about _____ ______.

—From school?

—No, she is from a clothes store. A pretty girl. She dresses like… I don´t know, weird.

—So you think she will fix this?

—Yes. She works everyday so, she doesn´t always have ways to make herself more known, so she fixes clothes too. My dad is dumb and always gives her lots of his clothes to fix.

Soul looked at her, not believing what he was hearing.

—Don´t you hate your dad? Why would you know that?— Maka practically jumped to the coach to end the conversation, that cuestion was a little… unpleasant to her.

—Because she is cool and she tells me stuff, I like her, not him. She is loevly preciseley because she said I don´t look much like my dad,

Soul didn´t asked much, and he just got your contact, happy because someone wanting and waiting to fix his loved jacket.

At the end, he found himself outside of a store that did not appear to be special at all, and that made him suspect a little bit. So he looked at Maka with an ¨are you sure?¨ look.

—Are we in the right place? You said this was an incredibly amazing place.

—Isn´t it?

—We are literally in front of a white brick wall with just a black door. The only thing that catches my eye is that little ¨we´re open¨ sign.

Maka stared at him without any answer, boring about that extremely ignorant answer.

She took his hand and quickly directed him inside the store.

With just one foot into the store, he started to feel a completely different vibe inside him, as a superior force was consuming him and make his soul giggle somehow. There weren´t just colors, but people, and they were the most genuinely impressive he had ever seen.

It was the most wonderful place his eyes have ever seen.

—____!— Maka said loudly, looking for you.

At first, the pianist doubted a little bit about Maka being friends or even know someone as cool as they said you were, and worked in that amazingly stylish place. The short one, would never said it, but she had never saw Soul with such an enchanted stare and absorted face before, with no one, and with nothing.

And he was really in love with everything there. The illumination was unexpectedly nice, having a first floor with more endless rows of clothes made of pure style.

Ah, God.

If he had more money with him at time, no one could ever get him out of there.

[rhaegnarokmidwinter]

weird bleach headcanons: tis the season edition

Its that time again fuckos, time to get festive and fuckin’ wholesome.. well, mostly.

Ichigo Kurosaki: The unwitting instigator of the whole mess, who answered the question when Renji, Rukia et al were topside in the World of the Living, “Hey Ichigo, why are your neighbors putting lights on a tree in their living room?”  Cue a detailed description of what Christmas is all about, a curiosity from the Shinigami, a well-meaning chime in from Orihime, and a slow-spreading excitement on Rukia’s face as its decided to bring Christmas to the Soul Society. How bad could it be, right?

Yoruichi Shihouin: You seen Mean Girls? You know the Jingle Bell Rock dance? Yeah, she gets Kisuke, Renji, and Tessai in on it. 

Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez: In keeping with the theme of Grimmjow being a big fucking cat, have you ever seen what cats do to Christmas trees? Their eyes light up and all the thoughts in their head turn to murder and destruction of the shiny ornaments and boughs of holly. Grimmjow sees a Tannenbaum and has to deck its halls. Its on sight. Toshiro Hitsugaya: Actually gets reasonably sane and thoughtful gifts for everyone. Call this guy Santa cause he’s made a list and he’s checking it twice. Jushiro Ukitake: Is in charge of the baking. Some sexist tried to pass the task of doing the holiday cookies and stuff off to the Women’s Association. That lasted about all of five minutes when Jushiro promptly fluffed himself up indignantly and took on responsibility of the baking himself because he just be like that. Most of the 13th turns into Santa’s Bakeshop because they’re not gonna let their chronically ill captain do ALL the work. Shunsui Kyouraku: Hears “mistletoe” and gets more inspired than Jack Skellington misappropriating holiday traditions. Mistletoe is scattered around the Seireitei leading to adorable and uh, awkward... situations. (It gets weirdly violent later too)

Renji Abarai: Tries that thing where you wrap yourself all sexy in strategically placed ribbons and bows for your special someone... aaaand it goes about as well as you’d expect with Renji looking more like a ball of used scotch tape than sexily wrapped. Rukia and Byakuya Kuchiki: Are put in charge of decorating and it goes incredibly well. Byakuya draws up a colour palette and decorating scheme that vibes well with the whole old-Japanese look of the Seireitei while still being Christmassy and the entire place is festive as fuck before long. Byakuya becomes a master at untangling strings of lights to the point where he’s called to other divisions where they’re hopelessly tangled, and effortlessly detangles the lights for everyone. Even those little wire and dot lights (fuck those are annoying) Rangiku Matsumoto: Is in charge of the punch but doesn’t read the recipe right and boozes that punch right the fuck up to the point where it doesn’t taste like there’s 99 bottles of vodka in the punch but thats probably not far off the mark. Its dangerous and has horrible ramifications later on Kenpachi Zaraki: Mishears “mistletoe” as “mistle foe” and suddenly deck the halls acquires a whole new meaning. The 11th Division gets it first. Mistletoe is hung in random areas and decrees that if you’re under the mistletoe with someone, you fight them. No one really notices much different until it spills out of the 11th Division and into the rest of the Seireitei. where Shunsui had hung mistletoe. Suddenly its a holly jolly roulette where if you’re caught under the mistletoe with someone you don’t know if you’re getting kissed or getting punched in the kisser.

Retsu Unohana: Organizes a night of caroling in the Seireitei. No one is brave enough to refuse. Gets horribly derailed when half of the carolers get drunk off the punch Rangiku made and the other half don’t notice a difference until much later. Yachiru: Mishears “mistletoe” as “mistle-toad” and a third option appears whereupon you’re ribbited at by a frog suspended from the mistletoe. They’re still finding frogs to this day.

[sagaduwyrm]

In the Gangplank Desert

Unohana Yachiru lived and breathed violence and death, but that doesn't mean she can't learn to make a friend. Unfortunately, what is given can be taken away.

The first time Unohana Yachiru felt alive she had blood in her mouth and a knife in the eye of an arrogant Shinigami. It would set the tone for her next couple of centuries.

To fight was to breathe, she found. She burned with it, carnage coursing through her veins, carried by her blade and Minazuki’s cry to spill out into the world in a tidal wave of violence.

She built her days, her entire life, around finding the next good fight, her next fix, the next chance to smile and mean it. It was how she met the one they called the Dragon.

She came to know him as Ichigo.

When armies marched to war, Yachiru followed in their wake. A battleground was a place she could thrive, scything into the conflict with abandon, thousands of opponents with nowhere to run. Deep inside the mire of blood and pain, she danced and danced and danced , until there was nothing left but dust and ash.

This battlefield, however, was strange. There was only one kind of armor, one set of heraldry on the corpses left on the ground when the warring army finally retreated, and no sign of the opponents that put them there.

Unohana Yachiru drifted gracefully through the bodies, clothes bloodstained but skin spotless, a gentle, satisfied smile on her face as she searched for an explanation.

“It was rude to interfere with my fight.”

The man who spoke to her was the only other person left standing, and the only one other than her in colors that didn’t match the carcasses on the ground. Here was the answer to her curiosity.

He was regal, with sunset hair drifting like a war banner in the wind and shoulders set confidently. He was also powerful , reiatsu singing exultantly in the air, all wrath and determination and mass like the ocean, deeper and darker every time you looked.

Yachiru wanted to fight him.

She wanted to kill him, to spill his blood and face every opponent after with his death scream trailing after her.

Her smile grew wider.

“Forgive me for my interference. I shall make it up by letting you join the opponents I stole from you.”

“Really?” A scowl painted itself across his face, aristocratic features twisting into something intimidating. “Any particular reason for you to kill me?”

Yachiru’s smile had grown to grotesque proportions, she knew, all delirium and violent delight. “Does a blade need a reason to spill blood?”

The man before her snorted. “I suppose not.”

Even as she swung Minazuki for his neck he was dropping, drawing low and then high as he took their battle into the air. Seeking room to maneuver, she thought, dodging the explosive kido he sent hurtling towards her. That wouldn’t do. If he wanted to fly, Yachiru would just have to drag him back down to the dirt so she could tear him apart properly.

It was like fighting a natural disaster. Neither unsealed their blades, but even without the man had reiatsu to spare and an eye for destruction. Every blow aimed to kill, and those she dodged still drove her into corners. She spun around a kido just to run into a blade, parried the sword and found it slipped towards her flesh instead, stepped inside the reach of his katana and broke her cheekbone on his fist.

She was losing. He had lost blood, true, and he limped from where she had nearly taken off his leg, destabilizing his stance, but every blow she gave him was repaid twice over and he wasn’t giving her any time to heal. He simply had more power and resilience to spare, and the skill to use it.

It thrilled her. Her cackling giggle followed them as they fought, pure joy in finally, finally finding a worthy opponent bursting from her like water from a dam. Across from her, her opponent’s eyes were bright with the same feral, mad glee as hers. So, so good , to find someone who knew what it meant to fight .

“You are batshit insane,” he stated while driving his blade into her own.

She cackled more. “As are you!”

There was little left of what had been a corpse-strewn battlefield by the time they hit the ground, no longer willing to waste the energy to stay in the sky after hours of battle. Yachiru tore reiatsu through her veins, forcing her wounds closed, building up an advantage for when the pause ended.

The man tilted his head as he watched. “I didn’t think Shinigami could heal themselves. The necessary reiatsu formations don’t allow for self-targeting.”

Yachiru smiled, “I wouldn’t know. I created this method myself.”

“Huh.” His eyes flickered brightly, and Yachiru tensed, readying herself for battle. “Good for me that I’ve got other options then.”

His sclera turning black and his irises an eerie gold was the first change she saw. Then, his skin paled and his reiatsu changed , devouring itself in an ouroboros loop like a phoenix being reborn until it was the same but unaccountably different. Hollow reiatsu hung in the air, caustic hunger and feral fury, and his wounds began to heal just as any of those demons would.

Unohana Yachiru blinked, and something in her mind stuttered in surprise. “What are you?” she breathed in wonder.

He snorted. “I’d tell you if I knew.” Sharp horns grew from his temples and two black lines traced themselves down his face seemingly completing his change. Her opponent, the Shinigami, was now an Arrancar. He was nearly healed, and his reiatsu was barely more depleted than before.

Unohana Yachiru wasn’t just losing; she had lost. True, she wasn’t dead yet, and she wouldn’t go down gently, but whatever this man was, she couldn’t win against him. The knowledge sent a rush of ecstasy through her veins and her smile became soft and genuine.

The Arrrancar who had been a Shinigami looked at her closely. “You really do just love the fight, don’t you?”

“It’s what my soul was made to do.”

He snorted. “Does this have to be to the death, then?”

Yachiru blinked. “What.”

“Even if I kill you now, the fun part of this fight is already over. And I’m not fond of killing people who aren’t truly my enemy.”

Yachiru looked at him in disbelief, “What do you call this, then, if I am not your enemy?”

He shrugged. “A spar? One that can repeat, if you don’t make me kill you.”

She stared, at this strange, unnatural man, who changed species like clothes and considered a fight to the death a spar, one he clearly found as fun as she did. Yachiru looked deep into his eyes and considered the sort of man who would want to do that again.

He met her gaze squarely, unashamed of his insanity.  He stood tall in a field of corpses, thousands of shinigami who sought to kill him but didn’t have the strength to survive the onslaught he unleashed. She didn’t know why they attacked the man, she realized. Oh, she could guess, the strength and strange abilities he had would never be something the noble clans could tolerate, not outside of their control. But she didn’t know, not for sure. They hadn’t even done him the favor of declaring their intentions the way they would have against another noble house. The army just attacked, seeking his death without enough respect to give him an explanation as to why.

It would be rather isolating, she suspected. Yachiru already found that towns and shops turned her away and the noble shinigami shunned her, and she suspected that this man would face even worse prejudice for his strange existence. Regardless of her strength of will and soul, having no one to talk to could be grating.

It wasn’t like she was abandoning the fight, she reasoned. That would be against her nature. They were just pausing it. Holding for later so they could properly enjoy it.

She could accept that.

“My name is Unohana Yachiru.”

For once, she was not the only one smiling. His ever-present scowl grew into a small but warm grin. “Kurosaki Ichigo. It’s good to meet you, Unohana-san. I enjoyed our battle.”

Yachiru smiled back.

+++

Shared food was, Yachiru would admit, better than food eaten alone.

“They’ve stopped accepting barter,” she told the man sitting next to her.

“The Takeda succeeded in their takeover then?” Ichigo carefully cleaned his fingers of pastry grease and blood from their earlier spar and began braiding his hair. It was still the brilliant orange of the sunset, but there was shadowed black mixed in. That, along with the throwing spears made of artificially condensed reishi next to him, indicated that today he was a Quincy rather than Shinigami or Hollow. 

She hummed in agreement. “They’ll lose the territory soon enough. They’ll pick a fight with the Shihoin to the north, or the Shimazu to the south, or you, or me,” she paused here for a second, allowing longing to cross her mind. She could never find battle quickly enough. “And the area will have a new lord all over again.” She shifted a curious gaze over to him, knowing he would notice it.

He grunted. “No.”

“If you established a true claim to the territory, you wouldn’t have to deal with the constant changes,” she pointed out.

“And there would be armies from all three races coming to punish me for daring. If it gets too annoying, I’ll just move.”

“I suppose.” She stretched her side, smiling when it twinged painfully. As a Quincy, Ichigo’s reiatsu was inherently destructive, seeking to decompose souls and reishi to their most basic elements. To heal it was as much a battle of willpower as skill. Like a phoenix returning from the ash, she had to demand her body be whole again, or it would dissolve into the Tamashī no Rinne.

He looked over at her as she finished devouring the last of his corrosive power. He considered her for a long moment before nodding and standing up. “Come on.”

She looked up in curiosity. Ichigo’s reiatsu was moving strangely, less the sleeping dragon it normally was outside of combat and more like a beast that had its eyes on her. His shoulders were tense too, as he began moving away from the town. She followed his steps carefully, his speed indicative of a route he’d taken many times before.

“Where are we going?” Yachiru asked.

“Home.” She blinked in confusion but Ichigo spoke again before she had a chance to. “Seems rude to make you sleep in a tree after you went out of your way to get food.”

She grew even more confused at that, her smile twisting subtly. It was not the first time she had grabbed a post-spar meal for them, but it was the first time Ichigo had even insinuated that he had something resembling a house rather than being a wanderer like she thought. She supposed it would explain why he was so protective of this territory specifically, despite the ease with which he roamed the three realms.

They quickly approached a small, out-of-the-way cabin with layered wards that she suspected took Ichigo years to make. It looked comfortable enough, but Yachiru was far more concerned with the trust and protection it symbolized. Her sparring partner was letting her into a place he’d gone to great efforts to make safe, in turn giving her a safe space. Yachiru was uncertain how to take such a gift but resolved to treat it as a debt to be honored.

Ichigo slipped through the protections with the ease of the man who created them and carefully let her in. He took his shoes off at the genkan before calling out softly. “Tadaima.”

Yachiru followed suit, slipping off her shoes, before startling as she heard a new pair of voices.

“Okaeri!” “Ichi-nii!”

Two girls ran into the room. They were young, maybe a century old and barely reaching their brother’s ribs, but their faces were lit up in pure joy as they launched themselves towards Ichigo. He laughed, his face softening into one of the warmest expressions Yachiru had ever seen on him, and embraced his little sisters.

Yachiru watched with wide eyes, realizing that bringing her to this cabin was a far bigger show of trust than she had thought possible.

One of the girls met her eyes over her brother’s shoulder. “Ichi-nii? Who’s this?”

“She’s the sparring partner I told you about Karin.” Ichigo twisted toward her, one girl on his back and the other held under his arm.

Unohana bowed toward the two curious gazes. “I am Unohana Yachiru. It is a pleasure to meet you.”  Her smile was a little frozen on her face, but she thought she kept it from being too alarming. Ichigo wouldn’t appreciate that near his sisters, not with the palpable protectprotectprotectfirstandlastprotector that curled through his reiatsu, flavoring and strengthening the wards. It was like finally seeing the foundation of some grand working. Yachiru had already known Ichigo’s power and determination, how it influenced every action he took and shaped his soul. Seeing the sheer protective instinct behind it all recontextualized him though, bringing a previously fragmented image into focus. It was beautiful, Yachiru thought. While she knew Ichigo enjoyed the fight just as much as she did, she had long ago understood that battle didn’t motivate him quite the same way. Seeing the true source of that ceaseless determination and strength was humbling. It made Yachiru want to restart their spar, see what would happen if Ichigo’s sisters’ lives were on the line. She cared more for the companionship though, the trust that this man against whom armies broke like water against rocks would bring that power to bear for her sake. A single battle was not worth the loss of all the spars they could have in the future, nor the loss of the trust Ichigo was extending to her at this moment, nor the value of an ally of the man’s caliber.

The girls smiled at her, though they still eyed her warily. “Ichi-nii made a friend!”

“Oi! Don’t make it sound shocking! I can talk to people!”

The other girl laughed at him and poked his side. “Just because you can talk to people doesn’t mean you do, nii-san.” Ichigo was smiling, small and almost unnoticeable, the way she’d only seen him do on a few rare occasions before. “I talk to—”

“More than once every other month?” The child’s smile was angelic.

Ichigo snorted. “I suppose not.”

Yachiru felt laughter shake her shoulders, her smile delighted. “Someone I respected once told me that a person only needs one good companion, as long as that companion is loyal.” The old healer who told her that had done his best to convince Yachiru to follow in their footsteps, convinced she had a talent for it after she created self-targeting healing kido with only limited guidance. She had never deigned to learn so much as a single thing from the man, irritated at the idea of sullying the bloodshed she was made for, but she had respected him deeply nonetheless.

Ichigo cast a warm glance at her, apparently satisfied by her support. “See? It’s fine.”

“Uh huh,” one girl looked at her skeptically. “And how often do you talk to people that aren’t Ichi-nii?”

“Often enough. Unlike Ichigo, I do go into town occasionally,” Yachiru said dryly.

The girls didn’t seem to quite believe her. The dried blood in her hair might have had something to do with that.

Something bubbled and hissed from further in the house. One girl jumped out of her brother’s arms and ran, “My soup!”

Ichigo snorted, dropping the girl he had called Karin to her indignant shout. He looked back at Yachiru. “You good staying for the night? Dinner should be ready in a few hours.”

Yachiru considered him sharply. Showing her this place where he hid his beating heart was a gift, but she suspected there was something more to his offer.

This was where Ichigo’s family stayed. He was asking her to stay, too. Yachiru would spill oceans of blood with the smallest excuse, but she suspected she would do far worse than that for this small family.

She smiled, soft and genuine. “For the night. I have some ideas for your wards in the morning.”

The three siblings beamed at her.

+++

Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto was a fearsome man. He was reshaping the very fabric of the Seretei, forging what he called the Gotei 13, a union force between all of the noble houses, with nothing but his grit and prodigious firepower.

Yachiru desperately wanted to fight him.

Luckily, he came to her.

“Unohana Yachiru,” the man stood tall and strong, his army arrayed behind him. Yachiru licked her lips. “You stand accused of crimes against the Seretei. How do you plead?”

Yachiru hummed. “What is the answer that will have you fighting me the quickest?”

Yamamoto’s eyes narrowed. “This is an execution. You will fall here.”

Yachiru laughed. How quickly his farce of a trial fell apart.

A game came to mind. Ichigo’s sisters were fond of making bets and dares, against themselves, their brother, and Yachiru once they became comfortable with her. It was a kind of mischief that never failed to make them laugh. It would be useful here.

“How about a wager, Soutaicho?” Yachiru’s head cocked slowly to the side, contorting her body into something strange, more monster than human soul. “Fight me here, without your army and its tricks. If you win, I will allow you—” her hand drifted up, pointing a single finger at the sky “—one favor.”

Yamamoto hesitated, considering. Something sharply calculating entered his gaze. “And if I lose?”

“You will be too dead for a favor to matter,” Yachiru smiled.

“Soutaicho, don’t—”

The man held up a hand, forestalling the objections of his people. They drew away uncertainly, leaving a wide space around the two. “One favor and one question.”

He must have a plan if he was setting such specific conditions. Yachiru did not care. She nodded.

”Are you willing to swear before Reio?”

“I swear.” Yachiru felt the oath settle in the depths of her reiatsu. There would be no backing out of this, even through death.

 “Very well. We shall fight.”

“Perfect,” Unohana Yachiru purred.

They did not draw their swords immediately, nor did they take to the air in shunpo. They drifted closer, circling their opponent. Yamamoto was expressionless, his face set into a noble but empty countenance. Yachiru’s grin was slowly growing, and her eyes were blown wide in delirium.

They lunged forward, exchanging lightning-fast blows. Their blades sang, and the earth underneath their feet was scoured bare of vegetation.

Just as quickly, they jumped back.

Yachiru lifted her sleeve, brushing her fingers against a bleeding gash, her face glowing with violent euphoria. Sparring with Ichigo was a joy, and throwing herself into an enemy army was its own kind of pleasure, but there was something about a fight to the death with a skilled opponent that left her soul burning with delight.

Yamamoto’s lip curled in disgust. Yachiru giggled at his hypocrisy. Such a foolish man.

The battle began anew.

No more were they testing each other, scouting out weaknesses and seeking to trip each other up. They brought forth every scrap of power and skill they could in an attempt to bring the other down. Kido flew and their zanpakutou flashed in the sunlight, their battle having left the confines of the earth for the sky. Yamamoto was lethally efficient, guarding himself with military precision while taking every opportunity to tear her apart. Yachiru was more reckless, confident in her skills in self-healing, accepting blows when it meant she could target him back.

Yachiru laughed, exultant and feral. This was, she was quite sure, the reason for her existence, this exchange of violence and power.

Yamamoto snarled, doubling down on his attempts to cut her head off.

The battle shook the Spirit Realm for hours.

Yachiru wasn’t quite sure how she lost. The adrenaline let her fight more fiercely than perhaps ever before, but it also left her memory completely shot. She could have been tricked, perhaps poisoned by one of the man’s many followers, but she wasn’t quite sure. It was just as likely that she lost genuinely. Nevertheless, she lost, her blade flung far from her hands and reiatsu drained. A hysterical, deranged giggle caught in her throat. She was learning so much nowadays. Every time she lost, whether to her friend or an enemy, she became a better, more dangerous fighter, even more so than when she won.

Yamamoto settled to his feet before her. His clothes were tattered and his expression was tired, but the benefits of having followers were clear as his wounds were healed shut.

Yachiru’s voice was ragged with lost breath and insane laughter. “Your favor, Soutaicho?” Such a strange title. Deliberately outside the noble hierarchy but still arrogant in its claim.

He looked her straight in the eye. “You will remain here, without using reiatsu, for one month and a day. You will not communicate with anyone other than me during that time.”

She tilted her head. That was… a strange favor. Was there not anyone he wanted dead with plausible deniability? It seemed like it would be easier to kill her if he wanted her out of the way.

“And your question?”

Yamamoto smiled. It was an unkind, grim thing. “What is the greatest weakness of the one they call the Dragon?”

Yachiru froze. No. She couldn’t— As she remained silent, her reiatsu shook in her chest. She was well used to carefully controlling her reiatsu, when using the self-healing kido she was fond of anything less than perfect control would kill her, but the energy slipped from her grasp when she tried to reach for it. She choked and fell forward, throwing up blood.

There was a reason why people trusted an oath sworn before the Soul King. If Yachiru did not answer, the oath would tear the answer out of her. She snarled, and despite her weakness Yamamoto flinched back. He did not retract his question.

Yachiru tore at her throat. If she still had access to her reiatsu she would have taken her head clean off, but Yamamoto was wise in using his favor first. It didn’t matter regardless. As soon as her fingers reached her vocal cords, they froze.

She shouldn’t have made that oath. Even if he wouldn’t duel her without it, if she attacked his people he would have responded. Or she should have made another oath, first. She had promised to protect and honor her friend as he did her, but without an oath before the Soul King, it might as well have been empty.

She was a fool.

“His— —” she shrieked in rage as the words were dragged out of her, the rest of her body frozen to the spot “—His sisters!”

The answer tore out of her like it had a mind of its own, and more followed it. Where to find them, little Yuzu and Karin. How the wards worked. How to break them. How to prevent the girls from sending a message to Ichigo until too late.

The earth around her cracked in her rage before her reiatsu was forcibly stilled by her oath.

Before her, Yamamoto was no longer smiling. He looked sad, almost tired, but his eyes were determined. Killing Ichigo would set his influence in motion, Yachiru knew. No Noble would be able to deny his power and authority. Yamamoto nodded once to her and left in a shaky shunpo, returning to his army.

Yachiru screamed.

[cooliogirl101]

Hii I want to submit a prompt about TLM. So, it's a; what if Sayuri from the world where Sousuke lost his memory--yeah that one, got transported to the canon universe. When the Visored is already a thing, and she got like, dropped near Urahara Kisuke's place.

Well, I imagine she's not in a nice place mentally, but the floor is yours! Honestly I just want to see their interactions.... At this stage. Aha. I think Kisuke's perceptive enough to notice her similarity with Sousuke--and who knows what he'll do. But yes, the floor is yours. Thank you! Have a nice holiday:)

(Sorry for the late response! Also @rowanreader asked a very similar prompt, so I'm combining them here):

For the Lonely Ghost AU

(Takes place six months after the Grand Fisher incident and 5 months after Masaki and Isshin decided to tell their kids about the spiritual world)

“So. It’s just Sayuri-san, is it?” Kisuke asked genially, leaning back in his chair. “No last name?”

“None that I particularly care to go by,” the oh-so-mysterious Sayuri replied. In contrast to his own slouched pose, she sat back straight and shoulders relaxed, posture perfect enough that she wouldn’t have looked out of place at a Kuchiki dinner party. She glanced at him. “I assume I have you to thank for my new gigai?”

“Ah.” Kisuke rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “There’s no need to thank me! Really, it’s the least I could do after you took care of Grand Fisher.”

“Mm.” Kisuke stilled as she looked at him fully for the first time, feeling her gaze settle on him like a weight. Something about those eyes--

"How are you finding it? No adjustment issues, I hope?" He asked.

"No," she replied. "Everything works perfectly. I haven't had any issues eating or drinking."

"That's good to hear. I was a little worried," Kisuke replied lightly. "I noticed you haven't touched your tea."

Something indecipherable flickered across her face.

"I haven't had tea in a long time. I'm afraid I've lost my taste for it," she murmured. Her eyes had gone distant again. "There's nothing wrong with the gigai, Urahara-san. Your work is perfect, as always."

Kisuke smiled, tilting the brim of his hat down.

"Such confidence in me already," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Do you always make such snap judgements of people?"

"You should be asking yourself that question, Urahara-san," she replied blandly. "I'm sure you've formed twice as many theories about me in the time we've been talking."

Kisuke laughed, more genuinely this time.

"Care to confirm any of them?" He asked, leaning forward.

"And ruin your fun?" Sayuri tilted her head to the side. "I wouldn't dare."

~~

"Curious," Kisuke mused, thinking aloud.

"You're talking about the woman Isshin brought in?" Tessai asked. "She's quite the mystery, isn't she? What did you think of her?"

"I'm certain I've never met that woman before in my life. Yet I'm equally as certain she's met me," he stated.

"Oh?" Tessai asked, surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"She's familiar with gigai. More interestingly, she's familiar with my gigai," Kisuke said. A shinigami who had never been in a gigai before almost always had trouble adjusting to being in a physical body. And most of them wouldn't expect to be able to eat, since that was a special feature unique to gigai designed by him-- Kurotsuchi hadn't seen a need to incorporate that into the design. That Sayuri had automatically assumed she would be able to eat and drink human food...well.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Kurotsuchi had a few of your old gigai lying around. Maybe she came across one of them?" Tessai suggested, somewhat doubtfully.

"Hmm. Maybe," Kisuke said noncommittally.

No, Sayuri's knowledge extended beyond his work-- she was familiar with him, personally. The only question was, how?

[recurring-polynya]

[Renji birthday] Hey, hi. What about Orihime does smt to surprise Renji for his birthday, a thank-you him helping her at New Year celebration? Include fireworks that Renji secretly enjoys? Thanks. Anything (fic, hcs, sketch..) is fine.

I’m sorry this is late, but it’s still the Renji - Orihime Birthday Weekend, so I think it’s okay!

I love the idea of the Renji - Orihime BroTP, but somehow it’s so hard for me to write, I always do a bunch of false starts or get stuck. For this round of prompts, I was trying to do the ones that inspired me the most and I liked the idea a lot more than I had ideas, if you get my drift. Anyway, I love them both too much, though, so I muscled through.

I’m sorry if this is a little ramble-y and quite silly and I didn’t manage to squeeze in fireworks (I’ve written several fireworks scenes in the past and didn’t want to repeat myself), but what it is is four thousand words long. Also, I managed to remember that Kon exists, this is possibly the first time I have ever put Kon in anything. I hope you like it!

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🎁    🎈    🎊

“Inoue,” Renji hissed. “Why am I here?”

Orihime took a quick step backwards as Keigo ran past, screaming. Ryo followed a second later, also screaming. Renji, who had served at Squad 11 for many years, managed to leap out of the way just in time. “It’s Ichigo’s birthday party,” Orihime explained. “He wanted you to come.”

“It’s not though,” Renji pressed. “It’s Arisawa’s birthday, and we’re at Arisawa’s house. I don’t think Arisawa even knows who I am.”

“Yes, she does, silly,” Orihime replied. “I told her lots of stories about you and she said she wanted you to come. There’ll probably be a football match later, and Ichigo told her we could have you on our team, as long as he got Rukia.”

“I got hauled in all the way from Soul Society for football?” Renji asked, sounding not-at-all upset about this.

“No, I told you! Ichigo wanted you to come.”

“But it’s not his birthday.”

“But it is his party. He and Tatsuki share, you see, because their birthdays are so close and they have all the same friends. It’s Tatsuki’s year to host the big friend party. Ichigo just had a little family party on his actual birthday.”

“Ohhhhh,” Renji replied, finally understanding. He nodded for a moment. “What’s a family party?”

---

Orihime cleared her throat, and tapped her in her palm. “Thank you all for coming to this very important meeting.”

Chad, Ichigo, and Tatsuki were all crammed together on Orihime’s couch. Rukia sat on the arm, next to Chad, Kon in her lap. Uryuu sat in Orihime’s desk chair, which she had hauled in from her room.

Orihime thwapped her pointer against the large pad of paper on an easel that she had borrowed from the Student Health Advisors Club. On the first page, she had drawn a large picture of Renji and written his name. “It has come to my attention that Our Friend Renji has never had a Family Birthday Party.”

“Quick question--” Tatsuki interrupted. “Is he wearing a… fur bolero in that picture? And is the bone dragon an actual thing or just...Orihime artistic spice?”

“It’s a cowl,” Rukia said, at the same time as Chad said, “It’s a stole,” and Uryuu said “It’s a capelet.”

“Thank you, that cleared up nothing,” Tatsuki replied.

“It’s his bankai form,” Ichigo said, grumpily. “His sword turns into a giant flying snake skeleton that screams like a pterodactyl. It’s super sick and he let me ride on it twice and that cape thing is really soft, actually, but he says it gets hot. As far as I know it has nothing to do with his birthday.”

“Er, no, I just got carried away while I was drawing,” Orihime admitted. “Your bankai is very cool, too, Kurosaki-kun.”

“Got it, right,” Tatsuki nodded, sounding very much like she just wanted to move on. “He doesn’t have a family?”

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Orihime,” Rukia said, sounding a teensy bit defensive. “Many people in Soul Society don’t have families. If there’s anyone in Soul Society who’s good at scraping up friends to spend a holiday with, it’s Renji. Everyone likes him. Half the Gotei turns up at the bar for his birthday parties.”

“I know that,” Orihime said quietly. “I know that because last New Year’s, when I was lonely, he played badminton with me, even though he was very, very hungover and pretending like he wasn’t, and then he went and rounded up all my friends in the middle of the night, and before he left, he told me there was nothing wrong with making your own holiday. But family birthdays are different! Family birthdays are about the people who love you most doing special things, just for you!” Orihime set her jaw. “When I was little, Sora always tried to make my birthdays super special! We didn’t have a lot of extra money, but he would take the day off just to spend it with me and we would go to the park or watch movies or he would let me paint his nails and braid his hair. He would take a picture of me and put it in my special birthday album with my height and weight and current favorite food.” Orihime’s mouth snapped shut. Everyone was staring at her. She’d said too much, just like she always did. Her cheeks started to burn.

“When I was little,” Ichigo suddenly said, a little bit too loud, “my mom told us that we could have whatever we wanted for dinner on our birthdays. One year, I…” he paused, his eyes darting over to Tatsuki. “I had just seen Kiki’s Delivery Service, and I was obsessed with that fish and pumpkin casserole the old lady makes?”

Orihime gasped, and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Uryuu rolled his eyes. “Who wasn’t, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo snorted, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “Anyway, it took her most of the day, and I think she must’ve gotten really frustrated at some point because me and my sisters got sent over to Tatsuki’s house so the Old Man could help her. It came out kind of lumpy and huge, but it was delicious, it was exactly what I had imagined it would taste like.”

“I remember that thing,” Tatsuki added. “She made us come over for dinner because there was so much of it. It was incredible.”

“We didn’t do Birthday Dinners for a few years after she died,” Ichigo said slowly. “But then after Yuzu got good at cooking, she said she wanted to try doing it again. My dad really likes the Godfather movies and he always used to ask for spaghetti for his birthday, which it turns out isn’t that hard to make. Karin and me helped out, and we’ve been doing it again ever since. We don’t usually do fancy stuff, it’s just nice to get to pick.”

“Ichigo made me omurice on my birthday and let me use his body to eat it!” Kon announced.

“You didn’t have to tell everyone that,” Ichigo stammered, turning pink. “It’s the only thing I’m good at making.”

“My abuelo always used to sing Las Mañanitas on my birthday,” Chad put in. “First thing in the morning. Sometimes he would come into my room and wake me up. Sometimes I would come down for breakfast and he would be there, with his guitar. He wouldn’t even say ‘good morning’ until he’d sung Las Mañanitas.”

Orihime’s spirits lifted a little. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

Rukia crossed her arms over her chest. “Renji gets up at the crack of dawn. I’m certainly not going over to his place to sing at him while he mixes up his horrible protein beverages.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to be exactly that,” Orihime went on. “I just thought, since his birthday was coming up in a few weeks, maybe we could throw him a party here, in the World of the Living that was… I don’t know… a little more heartfelt than just going out drinking.”

“I think that’s a very thoughtful idea, Inoue,” Uryuu said.

“Oh! I was worried you wouldn’t want to help, because… you know.”

“I had a row with Ryuuken last week,” Uryuu sniffed. “I’m honestly in the mood to do something nice for a shinigami. Besides, it’s Abarai, he doesn’t really count anymore.” He paused for a moment. “You either, of course, Kuchiki.”

“You wanna have it at my house?” Ichigo offered. “Since me and Tatsuki are the only ones with backyards, and I don’t imagine Tatsuki would want to explain this to her mom.”

“I appreciate that,” Tatsuki put in. “I can help though, if you want. In my family, we like to decorate, and I still have a bunch of streamers and balloons left over from last week.” She gestured at Orihime’s drawing. “We could probably make him a banner or something out of that. It’s pretty good!”

“Oh, that’s such a good idea!” Orihime exclaimed. She should have known her friends would be helpful. She flipped to a new page on her notepad, and began to write things down.

“I can help decorate!” Kon piped up. “I am very artistic, you know!”

“I can bring my guitar,” Chad offered. “I don’t know if Abarai wants to hear me sing…”

Ichigo shoved him in the shoulder. “Shut up. We always want to hear you sing and you never do. If Renji doesn’t want to hear you sing, he’s got no taste and also, he can suck it.”

Rukia rubbed her forehead, like she felt a headache coming on. “Renji goes to all his friends’ poetry readings and community theater and open mic nights. I am sure he would be overjoyed to be serenaded by Chad.”

“What about you, Uryuu?” Orihime asked. “I know you and your father don’t get along, but is there anything that you associate with feeling special on your birthday?”

Uryuu’s face contorted for a moment. “Ah, there is, but I’m sure it’s not helpful.”

“Maybe it will give us an idea,” Chad prodded.

Uryuu frowned. “Well, when I was very small, my mother used to make me a new kimono every year. She was… a very skilled seamstress.” He frowned. “I don’t have Abarai’s measurements, and besides, he couldn’t take it back to Soul Society anyway.”

Kon perked up. “Ichigo! Ichigo, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Ichigo jabbed a finger Uryuu. “Yuzu just got a bedazzler and she has a ton of t-shirt paint! We could bedazzle him a t-shirt! For his gigai! I’ll even keep it in my closet for him with all of Rukia’s crap!”

“Kurosaki, no,” Uryuu insisted.

“Kurosaki, yes,” Ichigo insisted. “It’s like you’ve never even met the man. I’m gonna make the most Renji t-shirt you’ve ever seen and he’s gonna love it so hard he’ll make me his new best friend.”

“I want to help,” Chad put in.

“You may,” Ichigo replied magnanimously.

“It was my idea-- whoa, Rukia, watch out!” Kon cried as he went tumbling to the ground.

Rukia was practically crawling over Chad, trying to punch Ichigo in the head. “He’s my best friend, you ass!”

“He is for now,” Ichigo replied ominously.

“You are my beloved protege, but I will end you, Kurosaki.”

“Kuchiki-san?” Orihime asked tentatively. “Do you think you could come up with a way to get him to come here? I think it should be a surprise, so you would probably have to make up a story...I understand if you don’t want to.”

Rukia looked up from where she was half-hanging over Chad’s shoulder. “Of course I can do that. I love lying to Renji. He can usually tell when I’m lying to him, but he’ll go along with whatever I say anyway.”

“Oh, good!” Orihime replied, a wave of relief washing over her. She had no idea how they would get Renji here otherwise. Mr. Urahara, maybe. Maybe.

Rukia’s brows creased as she rearranged herself to sit on the back of the couch between Chad and Ichigo. “Did you think I would say no?”

“Well… it didn’t seem like you thought this was a very good idea.”

Rukia’s cheeks colored and she waved her hands. “No, no! It’s not that at all! I think it’s a great idea! It’s really sweet of all of you. Renji’s so easy-going, people always… never mind! I’ll help however I can!”

“Try to find out what meal he might like,” Uryuu suggested. Kon was now sitting on his head. “That sounded nice and I can help cook.”

“That’s a no-brainer,” Rukia replied. “He hasn’t stopped talking about Chad’s burritos since the Advance Team mission ended.”

“Burritos are easy,” Chad agreed, “especially if Uryuu helps.”

“What about you, Rukia?” Tatsuki asked. “You have a brother, right? What do you do for family birthdays in Soul Society?”

Ichigo made a Big Yikes face, and Rukia shoved him in the head again. Orihime had stayed with the Kuchiki siblings when she was training in Soul Society, and while Byakuya could be pretty stiff, she was under the impression that he and Rukia were both working to have a better relationship.

“Kuchiki birthdays are very formal,” Rukia said regally, and then frowned. “Mostly, a bunch of Honored Relatives come over for dinner and you have to wear fancy clothes and it’s kind of a pain.” She thought for a moment. “Brother gave me a beautiful set of colored pencils for my last birthday. It’s hard to buy him presents, because he’s so particular and he usually just buys the things that he wants. He writes a lot of letters, though, so I went to my favorite stationery store and bought him some pretty paper I thought he would like. I figured that if I picked wrong, he could just use it to send letters to people he hates.” Rukia’s eyes softened. “He really liked it, actually. I guess he’s not very used to getting gifts that people have spent any time thinking about.”

“Thoughtful gifts are such a nice idea!” Orihime nodded eagerly.

“It’s hard, though,” Uryuu added, “because of the whole matter conversion issue.”

“What,” Ichigo bit off, “is not thoughtful about a t-shirt covered in rhinestones?”

“If all of you help me think of something, I will buy it for him back in Soul Society,” Rukia promised. “Not sunglasses, though. I already bought him sunglasses.”

“Isn’t his birthday, like a month away?” Ichigo frowned.

“Sometimes I plan ahead! Shut up!” Rukia scowled. “Brother and I also like to make each other cards. Brother is an amazing artist, obviously, mine hardly compare to his, but he is very gracious about my efforts.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Rukia!” Orihime agreed, writing down “cards” on her notes. She looked over her list. “I think this is shaping up to be a very good birthday!”

---

“Thanks for agreeing to come along,” Rukia said to Renji when he showed up at her front door on the morning of August 31. “How’s your head?”

“I feel great, but I hydrate tirelessly and also, I wasn’t the one who got into a drinking contest with Captain Komamura. How’s your head?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rukia replied.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just go? I’m sure I can-- did I read your text right? Ichigo got his soul stuck in Kon’s lion body and we have to go get him out? I… can probably handle that if you need to stay home and sleep it off.”

“Learn to read, oaf. Ichigo got his soul stuck in Kon’s lion body and we are going to laugh at him. Obviously, I wouldn’t miss that for anything.”

“Ahhhh, okay, that makes a lot more sense!”

“C’mon, we should get moving before Orihime takes pity on him or something.” She waved him inside. “Don’t worry, Brother said it was fine to use the family senkaimon.”

“Ah, good morning, Captain!” Renji said, his voice bright with nervous energy.

Rukia turned around and blinked. Sure enough, Byakuya was looming in the foyer. He had definitely not been in the entry thirty seconds ago.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Byakuya replied. “How delightful to see you in my house on a Sunday morning.”

“Brother, we talked about this,” Rukia pressed. “We had a whole discussion.”

Byakuya ignored her and plowed on. “I did not expect to see you today, but since you are here, I have something for you.” He held out a handsome, hardcover book. Gingerly, Renji accepted it and frowned at the cover. “It is the next book in the Tales of the Iron Army series,” Byakuya explained. “You are a fan of that series, are you not?”

Renji’s mouth gaped a little. “This isn’t… out… yet…”

“The publisher is an acquaintance of mine,” Byakuya said, looking off into the middle distance. “He offered me an advance copy, so I asked for two.”

“Uh, um, thanks, sir!” Renji managed.

“Think nothing of it,” Byakuya said stiffly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am extremely busy this morning.”

Rukia stared, gape-mouthed at the spot where Byakuya had been standing a moment previous. She wasn’t allowed to use shunpo in the house.

“What?” Renji choked out.

“Sometimes people just give him things,” Rukia shrugged, trying to play it off, but secretly fuming. She had told Byakuya that Renji was coming over and to (1) not mention his birthday and (2) not be weird. 0 for 2, Brother.

“Rukia,” Renji reiterated, and when she finally looked over, he was holding up a little slip of cardstock that had apparently been tucked into the front cover of the book. On it was painted a little watercolor Wakame Ambassador. He was wearing a humorous hat. In Byakuya’s immaculate calligraphy were the words ‘Congratulations. You are now older. You will still never defeat me.’ Renji stared at Rukia, as if this were somehow her fault. “W-h-a-t?” he mouthed very slowly and deliberately, no actual sound coming out of his mouth.

“Give me that!” Rukia snapped, grabbing both the book and the card out of his hand. “I told him we were going to the Living World, I don’t know why he couldn’t have given you this when we got back. Mikan!”

Rukia’s loyal maid immediately appeared at her elbow. “Yes, miss?”

Renji blinked. “How does everyone in this house move like that?”

“Hold onto this for Renji until we get back, okay? You can put it with the, um, other stuff.”

“Yes, miss.”

“What other stuff?” Renji asked, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just said ‘put it with the other stuff’?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You must have misheard, Lieutenant Abarai,” Mikan added sweetly.

“Maybe you should clean your ears out once in a while, dummy,” Rukia suggested.

“Are we really going to the Living World today, or was it just a ploy to get me over here?” Renji asked, doing a double take when he realized that Mikan had disappeared again.

“We’re really going!” Rukia protested, marching into the bowels of the house. “‘A ploy’, ha! You wish.”

“It is my birthday,” Renji pointed out, sounding a little suspicious.

“And we had your birthday party last night! What more do you want?”

“Nothing, actually! Very good birthday, as birthdays go!” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. “As if I wouldn’t come.”

Renji shrugged. “Well…you didn’t, for a long time. And those weren’t as fun. So thanks. For coming.”

Rukia opened her mouth and then closed it again. She didn’t know what to say to that.

Fortunately, Renji had a keen instinct for changing the subject when things got awkward. “Were you there when Rangiku’s boob fell out? She says that since it was the right one, it’s a sign that this is going to be an auspicious year for me.”

“I did! I was talking to Momo and we were basically at Ground Zero when it happened! I can’t believe Hisagi was in the restroom.”

“He’s probably still sobbing about it.”

They continued to recap the best parts of the party as they traveled through the senkaimon and picked up their gigai from Urahara’s, but there was something nagging at Rukia, something that had been nagging at her ever since Orihime, with her giant, squishy heart, had suggested that Renji deserved something better on his birthday, something which Rukia knew was unequivocally true.

“Oi, Renji,” she said suddenly as they turned onto Ichigo’s street. Renji was in the middle of a story about Iba’s sideburns, but she’d heard it before, and they both knew he was only telling it to fill the time.

“Eh?” he replied.

“I, uh, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry that our birthdays were so shitty growing up,” she said quickly. “Sorry in the sympathy sense, not the guilt sense. We were just kids, it’s not like there’s much more we could have done. Just... it sucked and it’s not fair and I’m sorry.”

Renji was staring at her with a look of mild horror on his face. “You thought our birthdays sucked?”

Rukia stared back at him. “They weren’t great, that’s for sure.”

Renji’s face fell a little. “Oh. I’m sorry you feel that way. We… we did try, you know. I remember stealing blankets for your birthday, to make sure we had enough for all of us. We always used to try to make sure we had something to eat that day, too.”

Rukia flushed. “I wasn’t talking about me, dummy!” She paused. “You did? Crap. Now I feel even worse.”

“My birthday’s in August,” Renji shrugged. “We didn’t need to worry about freezing our asses off. And we almost always managed to do something fun that day. Going fishing or making a bonfire or lying on the roof and looking at the stars.” Renji gave a rueful little chuckle. “You know, it’s fun when everyone gets together to get smashed on my birthday, but there are so many people and you can hardly hear what anyone is saying. Those old days… I dunno. I guess maybe they just felt a little more personal. When we were here on Tatsuki and Ichigo’s birthday, Orihime was telling me about family birthdays, and I think our old birthdays were a lot like that. Just some nice time spent with the people I like best.”

“You’re such a sap,” Rukia said, trying to keep her voice from wobbling.

“Like you didn’t know that,” Renji snorted. “I’m definitely gonna give Ichigo a hard time, but I’m actually kinda glad he managed to pull this bonehead move on my actual birthday. It’s a good excuse to come see him, and I got to spend a little quality time with you, to boot. Was kinda nice to see the captain, actually, even though he made a quick exit.” Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “After we get Ichigo sorted, I don’t ‘spose you’d mind taking a little stroll around town and seeing what the other kids are up to today?”

Rukia had her hand on the gate that led to the Kurosaki back yard. “That… could probably be arranged.” She pushed the gate open.

“SURPRISE!”

Confetti filled the air. Someone was blowing an air horn. Everyone (except Uryuu) was wearing very bedazzled t-shirts. Even Kon, sitting on Chad’s shoulder, wore a tiny one with an even tinier lion on it.

“Happy birthday, Renji!”

“Happy birthday, you old geezer!”

“We made you burritos!”

Rukia looked up at Renji. He had one hand clapped over his mouth and his eyes were wide. “Happy birthday, dumbass,” she said softly.

“Excuse me, I will be right back,” Renji said, turning on his heel and walking out the gate.

Orihime’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no! What did we do?”

Rukia held up her hands. “Just give him a second, he’s fine.”

The Karakura kids barely had time to exchange worried glances when Renji burst back in through the gate, at full volume. “What the Hell is this?” he roared. “And where did you get those t-shirts?”

“We made them!” Ichigo shouted back, and thrust a poorly wrapped bundle into Renji’s hands. “We made you one, too!”

Renji enthusiastically tore open his present and held up its contents. “Rukia,” he gasped. “Rukia, look.”

“Chad drew the Hihiou Zabimaru,” Ichigo explained proudly. “I was the one who wrote ‘OH YEAH!!’”

“It’s so beautiful,” Renji sniffed. “Here, Rukia, hold this!” He shoved the shirt into Rukia’s arms and immediately began to wrestle off the one he was currently wearing.

“Uh… buddy…” Tatsuki frowned, trying to throw her hand up in front of Orihime’s eyes, but also unable to tear her eyes away. “That is… a lot… of tattoos…”

“It’s okay, we’ve all seen it,” Orihime reassured her, pushing Tatsuki’s hand away.

“Never mind seeing it again,” Kon added philosophically.

“How does it look?” Renji asked, once he’d gotten dressed again. He was flexing his biceps for good measure.

“It’s a little tight,” Rukia replied, but it didn’t stop her from looking.

“That’s how hot people wear their clothes, Rukia,” Ichigo informed her. “Get with it.”

“I love this so much!” Renji declared, looking down at his own torso again. “I can’t believe you all made this for me. I am so happy!”

“Brace yourself, Abarai,” Uryuu said, “but this is about 1% of the birthday festivities Orihime planned for you.”

Orihime’s cheeks turned pink and she waved her hands frantically. “Everyone chipped in, I hardly did anything!”

“We know you don’t like cake, so we put a candle in a burrito for you,” Ichigo said, jerking his thumb toward the picnic table. “Come sit in front of it, so Chad can sing you your birthday song.”

“We saved you the lawn chair without any wobbly legs,” Kon added generously.

On his way past, Renji slung his arm around Orihime’s shoulders. “Thanks, kid,” he murmured.

Orihime looked up at him. “You’re our friend and I just wanted you to know how special we think you are on your birthday.”

Renji stared at her for a moment, an expression on his face like he wasn’t sure how to make words come out. Suddenly, he tightened his elbow around his neck and crashed the knuckles of his other hand fiercely into her scalp. “I love all of you, too!” he laughed.

“You can’t noogie Orihime!” Ichigo and Tatsuki yelled at the same time, and promptly tripped over each other in an attempt to tackle him. Uryuu flung a pinecone at Renji’s head. With his typical perfect aim, it would have been a direct hit, except that Kon had leapt from Chad’s shoulder directly into its trajectory and got beaned in the face instead.

Orihime was laughing and shouting “That tickles, that tickles!” Renji was cackling. Chad stood, dumbfounded, his guitar hanging around his neck.

“Rukia… avenge us…” Ichigo groaned from the ground.

“On one hand, it’s his birthday and Renji should get to noogie whomever he wants,” Rukia declared loftily. “On the other hand, Orihime is a precious angel. On the third hand, suck it, Abarai!”

She launched herself at him.

[jimmyironwood]

james!

jimmy, jimmy, jimmy, my favourite man

Top Three Ships:

Hard to choose just three when he deserves everyone ever but IronQrow Irondeath Ironclock

Least Favourite Ships:

IronLion (james x lionheart) cannot imagine him doing anything but throttling the traitor in a non-sexy way, War Crimes because Tyrian scares me and I refuse to put one thought to him in a romantic setting, Silver Shamrock because clover gives me "im irish because my nan's best friend's painter was irish" vibes.

Biggest Criticism:

Whatever the fuck happened in volume 8 with the mantle bombing but at the same time that version of him does not exist in my mind I cannot criticise what isnt there. Also James darling just accept you never unlocked your semblance and have stubborn man disease instead of whatever the fuck Mettle is.

Favourite Thing:

Words do not go deep enough to describe the joy I feel when I think about him. He is my favourite thing.

But if I had to pick it would be his temperament. Even when being yelled at or receiving literally the worst news ever he took a moment to stop or lean against the wall or redirect his anger at an object rather than a person.

Headcanon:

I have so many.

He has a massive sweet tooth and his favourite sweet is mint imperials. He keeps some in his jacket pocket for on the go. Giant sweet tooth make soft thicc half metal man and that is ok

He is Fria's son.

He's actually a good headmaster and keeps tabs on all of his students.

Before he got his prosthetics, he had axe as his weapon, but afterwards he found he simply didn't have the mobility for a large weapon anymore and changed to Due Process

What I would change if I was making a rewrite:

I have a love-hate relationship with Mettle. On one hand it's dumb and it's a personality trait and it didn't even show up in the show and on the other hand it has so much potential and it is in every single fic I write. I'd like to make it more obvious. His eyes were a lot darker in vols 2-3 so let's say Mettle makes his eyes bluer when it has more of a hold over him.

I'd also like to see or hear a change when its in effect. Maybe his voice is more monotonous and cold, he stands straighter and moves stiffer. I'd make its effects stronger too, his altered mental state means he hyperfocuses until his task or goal is achieved, even if that means missing sleep or meals to do so (have the Ace Ops mention this. A simple line of "he hasn't left his office in... days" would suffice). Have it get to the point where he couldn't answer simple questions that aren't about his goal because every effort of his mind is dedicated to it. As his goal gets further away it makes him more desperate and his decisions seem more rash, but in his affected head they are the next logical choice to regain the ground he has lost even if he cannot see how irrational they are. The semblance is literally self-inflicted mind control! Go crazy! But have him voice it so we the audience can understand his thinking. Give him a lil character quirk of thinking out loud so that we're not left behind in an otherwise very mental and self affecting semblance.

Finally, I would like to see other characters acknowledge it. I feel it was hinted that Ozcar was going to go and talk to him in volume 8, I'd like to have seen that. He obviously has respect for Ozpin and Ozpin is one of the few characters who managed to change his mind before (see volume 2 scouts/flagbearers convo). If Oscar can convince two villains to finally make the switch to his side, he, with the help of Ozpin, can get through to James. Maybe RWBYJNR discuss it as part of their plan, ie, "if we can break his aura we have a chance of getting past his semblance, since that's when he's at his weakest" - this also affords insight into how aura affects passive semblances since it's otherwise unclear. Qrow can talk about it in the prison cell with Robyn, ie "I'm going to beat the semblance out and the sense back in". It would go great as part of their conversation about how semblances can negatively affect people.

Let. Ren. See. His. Petals. Or lack of petals. Imagine if Ren had used his shinigami eyes during the fight and seen no petals at all until his aura was broken, at which point he became so swamped in petals that Ren could barely see him.

Also I am getting rid of the Mantle bomb plot. And the part where he fights Winter twice within like an hour. She already anime moment beat him up, we didn't need to see it again. However I think Watts hacking the bomb once he's out of jail is a fun plot point to bring people together in the event that the bomb wasn't used to blow up Monstra. Also goodbye green fart cannon. Yucky. If you want him to have a big weapon give him an axe.

Also I'd give him a backstory. You don't make a character half metal and then not tell your audience why.

Sorry that became a whole essay about Mettle

What I think of his allusion:

I like the tin man allusion! It was easy to spot early on but the way it was used wasn't clear later on. Did he lose it? Did he use it too much? Did he begin to wish he didn't have one? I believe in the latter two but there is plenty of room for interpretation for the former.

I think there was room for the secondary allusion of Atlas the titan who holds up the world and I know a few people did indeed see that but I think it could've been reinforced in the show a little more.

[bastillewolf]

It’s More About Looks Than Skill (VIII)

Pairing: Ryuk/Reader

Summary: Ryuk finds himself gaining feelings for Light Yagami’s best friend, but she doesn’t know he exists. When he makes the grave mistake of touching her, he makes things a lot more complicated.

Notes: I’m back... I told you I wasn’t giving up on this fic, I just needed some time to get over myself. I’ve plotted down the whole story and its ending, so you don’t have to worry about me not finishing this. It might take some time, but I’ll try not to post once every two months. Sorry, once again!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! If I wasn’t able to tag you, please check your settings and send me another ask.

@sarai-ibn-la-ahad​, @rustypotatospork​ @mantisandthemoondragon @baby-queen-girl​ @itscalledtrust​ @emilyshurley​ @killtherandomness​ @selmeuuh​ @felicity291​ @mahou-no-momo​​ @bakarinnie​​ @beccawinter​​ @chantelle-c333​​ @ria-demon29​​

Chapter VIII

It wasn’t until she’d said goodbye to Soichiro and stepped through the hospital doors into the night’s breeze, did she hear Light speak again. She was standing miraculously placed behind a large bush, where they wouldn’t notice her. It seemed the young man waited to see if anyone stepped through the doors before deciding to continue his talk with the God of death hovering in the air behind him.

“Ryuk.”

“Hm?”

“I never once felt cursed since I picked up the Death Note. In fact, the thought never even crossed my mind. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, all thanks to this power. I’m going to create a perfect world.”

“Honestly, I could care less whether you feel cursed or happy to have a notebook. I’ll leave that sentimental crap to you humans. But… Normally humans who come into contact with a Shinigami have nothing but misfortune.”

“That’s interesting. But I have no intentions of repeating that pattern.”

She only allowed her lungs to release the air they’d been holding long after she could no longer hear his footsteps walking off. And only then did she allow herself to finally feel what she’d felt in the pit of her stomach all this time; fear.

 ***

“Are you seeing this?” Lights voice carried over the walkie-talkie, but her attention was directed entirely towards what the TV in front of her was broadcasting. Since phones had become a danger as of late, she’d suggested going for a more old-school approach, if it was only to be able to contact Light when her house was feeling a bit too empty. Which was happening more and more frequently.

She hummed in response.

“Even if you don’t agree with me, all I ask is that you not publicise your views in the media. If you can do that, you will be spared. All you have to do now, is be patient. I will create a better world that we can all enjoy. Say goodbye to the world as you know it. Soon, we’ll have a new world ruled by benevolence inhabited by kind-hearted, honest people. Try to imagine it; a world where the police and I-“

“Switch channels. Now.”

She did as was asked of her, and was faced with the collapsed figure of Ukita, a taskforce member she’d just met only a few days prior. “Light… you didn’t-?”

“Of course it’s not me, you fool. I wouldn’t be so reckless. Now L will think I don’t need a name to kill someone. This impersonator is ruining all my plans!”

“Calm down, Light. This might work in our favour. You and I both know L will take all possibilities into consideration, so it could very well be that he’s already figured out about this person acting as a second Kira.”

“Ryuk-“ she heard some muffled noises in the background, “-didn’t give another Death Note to anyone, did you?”

“I only had two,” she could make out, “and I’m surely not stupid enough to give away my second one.”

“Light, please look back at the screen.”

“Hm?”

“A vehicle has just driven through the front of the station!”

“Well, that’s one way to stop the broadcast.”

It took a while, but eventually a police car arrived at the scene. And another, and another, until the whole building was surrounded.

“That’s… Soichiro? Light, that’s your father!”

“There you have it! The police refused to cooperate with Kira! Instead, they are prepared to fight. And, as much as I fear for my own life while saying so, this is right, and it must be done! Kira has become a very threat to our constitution, and as citizens, we must fight back. I am NHN’s Golden News anchor, Kouki Tanakabara.”

***

“I can only say it’s a shame that the answer is no, it’s clear that the police wish to oppose me.”

“How and why is this being broadcasted?” she asked, scooting Light’s chair closer to the television on his desk. It was the next day, and Sakura TV was airing the Kira imposer’s tapes once more.

“This will not go unpunished. So, I’ll start by either taking the life of the director-general of the NPA, or the detective known as L, who is currently leading the investigation against me. The director-general, or L? Who will pay the price in your refusal to cooperate in the creation of a peaceful world? You have four days to decide.”

Light let out a small chuckle. “You were right all along. There is no need to worry.”

“Really?”

“It would appear that another Shinigami has come to the human world, and somehow that Shinigami’s Death Note has fallen into the hands of someone who agrees with Kira. And this person most likely the Shinigami Eyes, which makes him very deadly. His power to kill surpasses even mine.”

“Or her,” she corrected him, to which he rolled his eyes.

“One thing is for certain, if I leave things I’m pretty sure L will be finished off within the next four days. However, I can’t forgive this imposter for the way he’s tarnishing Kira’s image with his senseless killings. Not to mention if he slips and gets caught, the Death Note will be discovered and that I can’t allow. I cannot afford to leave him alone for much longer.”

“Oh, now I definitely hope it’s a girl. If only to watch you struggle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t struggle with girls,” he protested.

“You’re right. But let’s just say that it wouldn’t surprise me if you turned out gay.”

“Please do shut up.”

 ***

It wasn’t long before L had invited both of them to his secret location. They were currently standing in front of the quirky hotel, after a reasonably lengthy train ride.

“I suppose your father couldn’t have just picked us up?” she asked.

Light shook his head. “That would’ve looked too suspicious. Right now, it just looks like we’re trying to escape our parents by booking a hotel room.”

“Aw, Light,” she cooed, latching onto his arm playfully, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He pulled up his nose in irritation, and she felt the Shinigami that had been holding her hand subtly stiffen. “What- what does that mean?”

“Don’t even bother asking, Ryuk,” Light replied.

“I’ll remind you to behave, Light,” she reminded him, “L probably knows this Kira is a copycat because of the fact that they didn’t need a name to kill the person, and you’d do well to think about the possibility that he might have wanted for that last tape to be broadcasted. I’m not sure how you’re going to get out of this one, as you can either choose to be ignorant, or speak up about your ‘deductions’.”

“Hm.”

“God, I hope it’s gonna be a girl.”

 ***

A short introduction followed between Light and the task force, as she simply gave them all a polite smile. She’d told Light briefly about them, as they’d met once or twice when she had her meetings in the café with L beforehand. At first, Light had been appalled by the fact that she knew more about these men that he did, but eventually did accept the fact that he now had someone who was apparently a more trusted figure in L’s mind.

And as expected, tapes were shown to both of them.

“Do you mind if I ask Light to make his deductions first?” L asked her.

She shook her head. “I understand. You’ve talked to me more than you have with Light. Go ahead.”

“So, what do you make of this, Light? Have you come to any conclusions?”

…

…

…It’s a test.

“It’s hard to say, but there might be another person out there with Kira’s power.”

And so it begins.

 You may also write the cause and/or details of death prior to filling in the name of the individual. Be sure to insert the name in front of the written cause of death. You have about 19 days (according to the human calendar) in order to fill in a name.

 “Are you sure you’re gonna pull this off? Pretending to be Kira, I mean?” she nudged him jokingly.

“I sure hope so. As long as I don’t start stuttering like I used to when I was a kid while we go live,” Light replied, almost too innocently. She knew all he wanted to do right now was strangle her for her comment, which is why she made it now; so he couldn’t.

“You used to stutter? Doesn’t seem very like you, Light,” L noted.

“Oh, he did,” Soichiro fondly recalled, “I remember those two reading out loud in Light’s room, giving a presentation to a whole group of stuffed animals, until he stuttered no more. I was so proud of you that day.”

Light shifted in embarrassment, clearly wanting this conversation to go back to business. “Ryuuzaki, does this look okay? I think I managed to make it believable.”

L picked up the sheet of paper. “Hm, I think you’ve done an excellent job with this. However, if we don’t omit the part that says, ‘you’re free to kill L’, then I’m gonna end up dead.”

What a dumbass.

Light laughed accordingly, “Sorry, I guess I got carried away playing the part. I figured if I was him I’d probably demand that he be killed. I was improvising, feel free to change it to whatever you like.”

“Sounds good. Say, just to make sure nothing happens, I’d have Aihara read the script during broadcast. It’s just as a precaution.”

“Of course.”

What a shame.

 ***

They’d sat down in front of the television once more, which seemed to be a more regular occurrence these days. Soichiro met her gaze.

“Sweetheart, do you have any idea when your parents are coming back?”

She shook her head, “They usually let me know the day before. Their schedules are too erratic these days to be able to plan home visits ahead.”

She knew he pitied her when she’d said ‘home visits’. Parents shouldn’t be visiting their home. They should visit work, and be home.

“But they let me know they’re getting all of the divorce papers finalized, and that because of their absence they think it would be best to keep the house until I move out.”

“Your parents are getting divorced?” Light asked, genuinely surprised, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugged. “They told me when we still weren’t on speaking terms because of our fight. Guess it slipped my mind.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to stay at our house, if you’re missing the comfort,” Soichiro reminded her, for which she was grateful. “I was wondering though - and please tell me if I’m stepping out of line here - haven’t you connected with anyone else yet in school?”

“…Connected, sir?”

“W-Well, you know what I mean-“

“…Oh, uh- No, not really.”

“Well, it’s not any of my business anyway, but while your father is gone, please do tell me if you need me to give a young man a stern look.”

She giggled quietly, her cheeks reddening. “Thank you, mister Yagami. But I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“That reminds me,” Light said, “I think I kind of promised someone you’d go out with them.”

“What?”

Ryuk held his breath.

[cheshiresense]

Could you do KoyoIchi (Swinging Pendulum), please? C: I have fallen in love with this ship ever since you posted those short one-shots (or whatever they are called) a while ago.

Hmm you didn’t include an AU and I’ve already done a KoyoIchi SP AU in the last batch, there’s not much else I can write for that I think. So how about KoyoIchi post-canon AU instead, where Ichigo’s human body gives out after the Quincy War, so he ends up splitting his time between SS and the Human world afterwards.

Edit: omg wtf did i do i went off i’m sorry this ended up semi-background pre-relationship KoyoIchi + like a dozen unrelated headcanons thrown in it’s a mess fml

1. It’s not usually done, he’s technically dead now (but not a Shinigami, not a Quincy, not a Hollow, and not even a Human anymore), but he has a lot of support from a lot of people - Kisuke has no qualms crafting him a gigai that would allow him to draw his blade even without stepping out of it, and Kyouraku basically gives him free run of Soul Society after they hammer out what Ichigo is supposed to do there considering he’s now stronger than the entire Gotei combined but also he’s technically only eighteen years old.

(It would be scarier, Kyouraku thinks, if Ichigo’s moral fibre hadn’t already proven itself superior.)

In the end, they settle it like this - Ichigo attends the Academy part-time for all the lessons Kisuke and Yoruichi and Shinji never bothered hammering into him because it was never important to the war, attends university in the human world, and the rest of his time is his do with as he pleases, whether that’s taking missions directly from Kyouraku, visiting with his friends in various squads and being roped into doing paperwork, or digging up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork (”Please don’t dig up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork for at least a month, Ichigo-kun. One month, you hear? We still haven’t finished cleanup from the last one.”).

Because it’s Ichigo, it works. it’s not like he wasn’t already coming and going from Soul Society when he was still human. The Shinigami have let him get away with far too much already to put restrictions on him now, especially considering he’s saved all their asses twice over now, and that’s not even counting all the trouble in-between. If there are some who complain, well, there are even more who are capable of making sure nothing ever comes of it.

So okay, no rebel faction, no secret invasion, but Ichigo’s not Ichigo without something to work towards, and he’s always wondered why the Shinigami side of his family was slumming it out in Rukongai when they’re supposed to be nobility like Byakuya and Yoruichi. The answer is simple enough - Aizen had mind-whammied everyone after Isshin ran off and fabricated a coup that resulted in assassinations courtesy of the Second Division before the remaining Shibas were ousted from Seireitei overnight.

(It was only too easy for Aizen to make them believe it.Nobody ever questioned whether or not the Shibas could. They had the power. They just never had the ambition, which nobody could understand.)

No way is Ichigo going to take that lying down. So he goes and yells at Kyouraku, who says it’s complicated and would take time, but Ichigo reminds him of the Visored and Kisuke and Yoruichi and Tessai, all let back in in the wake of the Winter War. If they could be pardoned, and rightfully so, why can’t the Shibas too?

“I’m not saying they can’t forever, Ichigo-kun,” Kyouraku says placatingly. “But Central 46 will want… assurances-”

“You mean they’re scared to let my family back in cuz they might still be a little bit pissed from having three-quarters of their members murdered in their beds,” Ichigo summarizes flatly.

Kyouraku sighs and gives up all pretenses of a neutral party. “If you have a better idea…” He waves a hand at the general situation, eyes dark and intent on Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo snorts and straightens up. “Yeah. It’s called ‘being too strong to fuck with’. The old bastards are in session right now, aren’t they? I’ll be right back.”

One day, Kyouraku muses as he watches Ichigo go, this will probably not work, and it’ll come back to bite them all in the ass. Then again, Central 46 has run Soul Society their way or no one’s way for far too long; Yama-jii had always given them too much power. They’d learned nothing from Aizen, so maybe Ichigo is exactly what they deserve, straightforward and running on emotion, but fair, always, and decent in a way that Kyouraku thinks most of their government has forgotten how to be, if they ever knew to begin with.

One day, even Ichigo’s threats won’t make Central 46 back down. But a god doesn’t bow just because someone demands it, no matter how important they think their bloodline or rank or status is. And Ichigo is probably the closest thing they have to a god these days. A god, with plenty of friends to back him up if he needs it.

So Kyouraku leaves him to it - better Ichigo than him, less headaches in the long run - and he isn’t at all surprised when Ichigo sweeps back into his office five hours later, expression grim but triumphant, reiatsu still writhing like a living shadow around him as he informs Kyouraku that his clan will be needing their old estate back.

Kyouraku pushes over the paperwork he’d completed an hour ago, authorizing the full restoration and compensation of the Shiba Clan. Ichigo smiles at him almost fondly, features only slightly tinted with a banked sort of inhuman rage that he carries around almost constantly these days - it’s three steps left of his cousin’s memory, with Hollow glinting in his eyes and the shade of his ancestor draped across his shoulders. He’s gone again in the next moment, off to tell his family the excellent news, and Kyouraku thinks it was probably a good thing Yama-jii died when he did. However reasonable Ichigo still is, he is no longer that boy with the too-forgiving heart who took the insults they served him with all the doormatted self-sacrifice of a storybook hero.

(He came back from the Soul King Palace equal parts pensive and victorious, with old eyes and reiatsu levels they could no longer sense and a terrifying sort of detachment when he looked at them all. But his friends had fallen on him without care, only relief, and the icy distance in Ichigo’s mien had melted. Kyouraku had understood though, in that moment, that Soul Society would stand only so long as Ichigo allows it.

He likes Ichigo, he genuinely does. Jyuushirou had too. That hadn’t stopped his old friend from attempting to leash him, which had almost backfired in the end and literally only hadn’t out of the goodness of Ichigo’s heart, and it doesn’t stop Kyouraku now from catering to Ichigo’s whims. Only time would tell if this approach will work better or worse than Jyuushirou’s law-abiding one, and in the meanwhile, it doesn’t hurt that Ichigo doesn’t actually want anything Kyouraku doesn’t want to fix anyway. Soul Society has been his home for over nine centuries now. He does not want to see it burn. If that means dragging it kicking and screaming into a new era with a boy their world created to fight their wars for them looking over his shoulder, then Kyouraku will do it gladly.)

It takes almost three months for the Shibas to gather again and move back in. They’d scattered, after their exile, all across Rukongai, but Kuukaku is their head, and Ichigo has single-handedly wrested back their birthright for them, and when both of them call, the rest of the clan answers, trickling in in twos and threes and fours, suspicious and wary and not inclined to trust anyone but their own, but they come, and the first thing they do is raise wards around their home strong enough to withstand a siege from the Royal Guard.

“That’s everyone?” Ichigo asks, looking from the civilians to the once-Shinigami to the children. All in all, they barely make thirty total, and over half of them are from their retainer families.

Kuukaku shrugs tiredly at his side. She’s never looked older than she does now. “You know Isshin’s staying in the Human world for your sisters, but other than that, pretty much. Everyone else is dead.” She pauses. “Well, except one, but I doubt he’ll come. Kaien’s wife’s brother,” She adds for Ichigo’s benefit. “Koyonagi Senzou. He was the Kidou Corps Commander before Tessai, demoted to Academy teacher after some mission the higher-ups covered up. He was the only one the Gotei kept on after we were kicked out. Never found out whether he actually wanted to stay or if Central 46 insisted he stay. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. He’s wasted at the Academy, too useful to kill but too dangerous to let out of sight. As far as I know though, he’s still there.”

Ichigo frowns as he digests all this. “And he won’t come by to see you guys?”

Kuukaku shakes her head. “I doubt it. He was never really one of us.”

“Why not?”

Kuukaku shrugs again. “He never wanted to be. I didn’t know him very well, Ichigo, but he loved exactly one person, and she was more or less killed under Kaien’s watch. It wasn’t Nii-san’s fault of course, but she was sent out on a mission given to her by the Thirteenth Division lieutenant, and she never came back. He attended her funeral. That was the last time any of us saw him, although our Shinigami members reported glimpses of him in and around the Academy over the years.”

Ichigo hums. Kuukaku gives him an arch look and then snorts. “Shall I prepare a room for him anyway when I start renovations?”

Ichigo grins at her. “That’d be perfect, Kuukaku, thanks.”

2. Of course Senzou has heard of Kurosaki Ichigo. You’d have to be living under a rock in a cave in a different dimension to not have heard of Soul Society’s God-Slaying Saviour.

And of course he’s a Shiba. That lot always was more trouble than they were worth, too powerful for their own good, and too reckless or too confident or too stupid - Senzou has never really figured out which - to hide it from the world or at least play it down to keep the world from turning on them because of it. No subtlety at all. And look where it got them in the end.

In the aftermath of the Quincy War, he hears of the Shibas’ return to the city, and he can feel the power in the wards they almost immediately erect around their home. For protection, no doubt, because old dogs can learn new tricks after all, but to Senzou, it just looks like a very pretty cage. Why they - or the Visored for that matter - came back to serve the very people who betrayed them in some of the worst ways possible is beyond him.

Not that it makes much of a difference to Senzou. He’d ignored them for decades before their exile; no doubt, he’ll happily ignore them for decades more. They’re related only through an unfortunate marriage, and considering both parties are long dead now, what little obligation he had to them likewise expired years ago.

But, he thinks, as he watches an increasingly familiar head of orange hair slide into his classroom, someone forgot to give that memo to the Shibas’ newest pride and joy. Even Senzou - with expectations that literally no student has ever met - can admit that Kurosaki Ichigo attending Kidou lessons is a complete waste of time. Senzou spends his days teaching idiots the incantations for each of the ninety-nine standard spells, trying not to scratch his own eyes out when he has to grade their papers, and making sure they don’t blow themselves up when they practice producing them. Even the most advanced of the sixth-years can only manage spells in the fifties range, with a fifty-fifty chance of average-at-best success.

Ichigo memorized all the incantations in the first two weeks he was here. His first essay on the use of forbidden Kidou - instead of a regurgitation of laws citing the illegality of them that everyone else turned in - became a dissertation on their pros and cons, arguing that every case in which they’re used should be thoroughly investigated not only by Central 46 but also by a panel of Shinigami, and why the laws against them should be amended to allow for unexpected circumstances. The brat even had the gall to throw in quotes of interviews he’d conducted, and if it had been anyone else claiming to have received firsthand and eye-witness accounts of forbidden Kidou usage from names like Tsukabishi Tessai and Hirako Shinji, Senzou would’ve set them on fire for being such a bad liar. He couldn’t even fail the boy for incomplete research because the books he referenced might not be found in the Academy library but they all had Urahara Kisuke stamped on them.

And his practicals? A high level of reiatsu usually means the caster would have a harder time performing Kidou, especially when they’re first starting out, too much power shoved into the lower-level ones, too little control to hold together the higher-level ones.

Not Kurosaki Ichigo. That boy spent the first week putting holes into everything except his targets, went away for a weekend, and then came back with singed eyebrows and bags under his eyes but a resolute set to his jaw and picture-perfect Kidou at his fingertips. He didn’t even need the incantations anymore. And to make him even more of an anomaly, he could perform spells right up into the nineties. In fact, the higher the difficulty and reiatsu output, the better he was with them.

There is nothing the standard Kidou curriculum from any year can teach him. His learning curve is insane, and his essays read like he’s gearing up to go toe to toe with Central 46, never mind an Academy class.

He doesn’t need to be here. Senzou knows it. The other students know it. And Ichigo most certainly knows it too. And with the special allowances granted by the Soutaichou himself, he doesn’t even need permission to skip. The boy’s been given unprecedented free reign to come and go as he pleases, and yet he comes back, week after week after week. He doesn’t even have the decency to sleep through Senzou’s lectures. He’s a flickering candle in the corner of Senzou’s eye, all flame-bright hair and brown-gold-brown eyes and shadows that won’t stop moving, and that unwavering attention he pins on Senzou every time makes it damn clear exactly what he’s waiting for.

Shibas. No subtlety whatsoever.

The bell rings. Bags are packed. There’s a scramble for the door.

“Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou calls in bored tones without looking away from sadistically adding an extra assignment to the board. If no one notices, that’s their problem. “Stay behind.”

There are some interested whispers and prying eyes, but one glance from Senzou sends them scurrying away. And then Ichigo is there, sauntering up with his perpetual scowl - not at all like Kaien this one. The two are as charismatic as each other, from what Senzou’s observed. But Kaien had people wrapped around his finger because he had a knack for putting them at ease and making them feel special and making himself both approachable and worth looking up to. Ichigo on the other hand scared a lot of people when he first showed up at the Academy with an armful of books and a gruff disposition that didn’t lend itself to making allies, let alone friends. He wasn’t arrogant, just introverted, but it made him the kind of genius that people resented.

And then Senzou caught him in the hallway one day, looming over a mousy-looking fifth-year student huddled on the ground, and at first, he’d thought Kurosaki was bullying her. Everyone’s golden boy, picking on a shrinking violet of a girl. But then Ichigo had stooped down and gathered up all the books spilled across the floor before offering them back to the girl. The girl had still cowered, but she’d accepted them, and when Ichigo reached out and hauled her to her feet, she’d flinched but hadn’t moved away once she was on her feet again and Ichigo had let her go.

Then Ichigo had told her, quite clearly, “Next time someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, break their fucking wrists. Or kick them in the balls. Or tell them to fuck off. Start a scene so they have to stop. Do something. Don’t just fucking stand there.”

And then he’d stormed off, and the girl - Fujiwara, from the Kyouraku family - had stared after him, all baby-duckling wide eyes. And the next time Senzou had happened across her, it was just in time to see her chuck one of her textbooks at the head of one of her bullies. Said bully had staggered back, and then purpled with anger, already moving forward with fists clenched. Half a second later, he was on the ground and wailing from a broken nose, and Ichigo was standing over him, murder glowing gold in his eyes and black reiatsu streaking his hair and pooling at his feet.

Nobody had touched Fujiwara after that, especially since the girl had taken to following Ichigo around. Ichigo had still scowled like no one’s business, he’d also been seen kicking Fujiwara’s ass in one of the training rooms, they studied together in the library, and they ate together in the courtyard when Ichigo happened to stay for that.

And gradually, other students joined in, tentatively, some nervous, some with hero worship in their eyes, all hopeful. Ichigo never turned any of them away, but one day, he started a debate in the library about laws that would take species outside of Shinigami into consideration that ended with raised voices and enthusiastic opinions that got the whole giggling bunch thrown out, and another day, he suggested a free-for-all game of tag where only Kidou could be used to catch each other which ended with everyone sweaty and gasping and wanting another round, and in calmer in-betweens, he answered when the others finally asked him about what Hueco Mundo was like, what the Material world was like, what Arrancar were like, what Humans were like, and he never lost his temper with them even when he had to explain something more than once.

He was still blunt and borderline rude and not at all like Kaien, like a Shiba, not outgoing or friendly or instantly personable. But the charisma was the same, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him, and it took weeks for Senzou to realize he was just as susceptible to it as Ichigo’s growing circle of friends within the Academy. So susceptible he was literally stalking him everywhere just to see what other chaos he was sowing.

That’s probably why he wants the boy gone so badly. He’d sworn he’d never forgive the Shiba Clan for taking his sister away from him, the only leeway they got was that he wouldn’t actively go after them either because Miyako wouldn’t want him to, and it wasn’t as if it was difficult to keep such a vow. He’d never liked the Shibas anyway. When they’d been slaughtered and cast out, and no assassins had shown up at his door in the aftermath, all he’d thought was good riddance.

But Kurosaki Ichigo…

Under any other circumstances, Senzou would be thrilled. Here is a student who challenged the world around him and brought a storm to the Academy.

But this isn’t any other circumstances, and as Ichigo stops in front of his desk, a beast glinting behind his eyes and a dead king’s inheritance pulsing in the shadow splashed at his feet, Senzou meets his gaze and slices a mocking smile in his direction.

“Kurosaki-chan,” He starts, smirk widening when Ichigo’s eyebrows twitch. “The Academy’s star part-time pupil. What exactly are you still doing in my class?”

Ichigo shrugs. “I signed up for it, your lectures aren’t boring, and I’m trying to figure you out.”

Senzou feels his smile grow fixed. “And how is that going for you?”

Ichigo scruffs a hand through his hair, pauses briefly to frown tug at the shoulder-length strands like he wants a haircut, and then shrugs again. “You’re the one following me around all the time, what do you think?”

They stare at each other for a moment.

“Let me make one thing very clear, Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou finally says. For once, he doesn’t feel like weaving his usual mind games. “I don’t know what your clan has told you, but I have no desire to play happy families with them. I know you Shibas tend to be all about bringing family together, but I am not one of you.” His lip curls. “Do not push this issue any further than you have. Am I understood?”

Ichigo cocks his head, something animal in the way he watches Senzou now. “Kuukaku agreed to reserve a room for you at the compound if you ever want it, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not here for that.”

Senzou’s eyes narrow. “Then what are you here for?” He gives the boy a sardonic look and cuts him off preemptively. “Besides class.”

Ichigo grins, quicksilver bright, and something in Senzou recoils with surprise.

“I don’t really have a plan,” The boy tells him. “But I’m getting my family settled back in, and making sure nobody can fuck with them ever again.” He aims another considering look at Senzou. “If you don’t wanna be all buddy-buddy with them, that’s fine. It’s not any of my business if you wanna hammer your shit out with them or not. But you were connected to them even if you didn’t like it, and that doesn’t change just because that connection’s gone. So I guess what I wanted to figure out was whether or not someone’s fucking with you too.”

Senzou opens his mouth, then closes it when nothing comes out. How embarrassing. He settles for a derisive smile that feels a touch too brittle on his face. “I don’t need your protection, God-Slayer.”

Ichigo immediately makes a face. “Don’t call me that. And I didn’t say you did. But when I start something, I like to see it through, so I thought I’d check just to be sure.”

Senzou scoffs with disbelief. “Then why didn’t you just ask?”

Ichigo rolls his eyes like he thinks Senzou’s being dumb on purpose, which is a new experience for Senzou. Usually he’s the one rolling his eyes.

“Well you didn’t want me to, did you?” Ichigo says, looking exasperated now. “You were curious about me, and all the stalking was recon or whatever.” He levels a thoughtful look on Senzou before snorting with something like amusement. “You are the type. But yeah, anyway, now you know. If you need help, the offer’s open indefinitely. But I’ll stop coming to class if you don’t want me here.”

He trails off, arching an eyebrow in question. When Senzou doesn’t reply, the boy shrugs once more, adjusts the strap of his bag, and turns to leave.

Senzou… Well, he’s pretty much been on the back foot this entire conversation, hasn’t he? There’s something about Ichigo that just… throws him off. It’s frustrating. Unnerving.

And yet… Ichigo didn’t push. Kaien would’ve pushed. The rest of his family would’ve pushed. It’s what Shibas do when they want something - push and push until they get what they want, a single-minded persistence hidden under their signature cheerful geniality that makes the rest of the world believe them to be the nicest clan in all of Soul Society.

Miyako had said no, the first time Kaien had asked to court her. But he’d asked again and again, until she’d said yes, and she’d been happy to, Senzou had made certain of that, she’d been perfectly willing, had found a good man in Kaien and been glad she’d finally given him a chance.

But she’d said no first, and Kaien had pushed, and it just… rubbed Senzou the wrong way. Because once upon a time, Shinigami had plucked them out from Rukongai, dusted them off and provided the training and shuffled them into the military, all expenses paid, but no had never been an option, and that had become all the more true after Miyako became such a public, vulnerable figure, not only Third Seat of the Thirteenth but also wife of a clan head.

When Central 46 had come knocking, interested in Senzou’s prodigal skills with Kidou, they hadn’t even needed to drop Miyako’s name for Senzou to know that saying no then wasn’t an option either. He’d been pushed into their service, and it had taken Miyako’s death for Central 46 to finally leave him alone, solely because he had no one else for them to hold over his head.

It’s not the Shibas’ fault, not really. It’s been long enough that Senzou can admit that, if only to himself. Miyako’s choices were her own, and even if she hadn’t married him, Central 46 probably would’ve found another way to get to him through her. But Senzou has always been petty and vindictive at heart, and he’ll blame the Shibas for the rest of his life, because at the end of the day, they’re just like all the other nobles in this place. What they want, they’ll push until they get, because privilege is in their blood.

So Senzou flounders when Ichigo doesn’t push his advantage. The boy is already halfway to the door, and somehow, Senzou is certain, if he doesn’t say anything now, Ichigo won’t come back. It’s so wildly different from what he’d expected, so unexpectedly not-like-a-Shiba, that he has to fumble for something to say for an unforgivably long moment. Him, fumble. This whole conversation has been one unexpected surprise after another, and later, Senzou will blame the shock for his next decision.

“Wait.”

Ichigo stops and turns back. He doesn’t look surprised, but neither does he look triumphant or even just smug.

Senzou suppresses a grimace. “The school has nothing left to teach you about Kidou.”

Ichigo nods in unabashed agreement.

Senzou snorts softly. “But I do. And I guarantee it won’t bore you.”

Ichigo blinks, and a crooked smile slowly curls at his lips. It doesn’t erase his frown, but it softens his brow and makes his features look less harsh. “You sure you wanna teach me?”

Senzou scoffs and pulls out his chair. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” He gives himself a mental shake and drags a grin back onto his face, sharp enough to cut. “Sit your ass down so we can figure out a schedule, Ichi-chan.”

Ichigo instantly loses the smile and glowers like a thundercloud. Senzou all but basks in the familiarity of it, inwardly relieved at being back on steadier ground.

“Don’t call me that, asshole!”

He probably shouldn’t have offered, should’ve just let him go and good riddance. But Senzou hasn’t been taken so off-guard so quickly in a long time, and it had been frustrating and unnerving but underneath both…

There is a storm waiting on the wings of Seireitei, and Kurosaki Ichigo is the one holding its reins.

And Senzou. Senzou is just curious enough to want to see what that storm will bring.

3. “Did your hair grow three inches over the weekend?” Senzou asks the moment Ichigo walks into one of their weekly lessons.

Ichigo dumps his bag in a chair and scowls at him. His hair has been swept up into a bun, which is certainly a feat considering the last time Senzou saw him three days ago, it had only brushed his shoulders.

“This body is seriously shit at regulating itself,” Ichigo grumbles. “I didn’t have time to go to the barber’s, and Kuukaku threatened to shave me bald if I tried to chop it off with my Zanpakutou again.”

Senzou squints at him. “You realize that’s not normal.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a knife on me, and it was getting in the way, okay? Don’t judge.”

This time, it’s Senzou’s turn to roll his eyes. “That wasn’t what I meant, Ichi-chan. Shinigami bodies don’t suddenly grow several inches of hair overnight.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ichigo mutters before shaking his head, and Senzou watches as black reiatsu crackles lazily across his shoulders. “I’m just kinda weird. Excess reiatsu plus funky biology apparently means random hair growth and dye jobs.” He shrugs. “Kisuke’s still figuring it out.”

Senzou hums noncommittally. “Urahara Kisuke. Your… mentor?”

Ichigo pulls out the books Senzou had given him last week, along with a notebook and the latest essay Senzou had assigned him. All are tagged with multiple sticky notes.

“Kind of?” Ichigo sounds like he isn’t all too sure himself and even less concerned about it. “He’s… Kisuke.”

Senzou eyes him curiously. “You don’t care that he basically engineered half your life then?”

Ichigo stills. Then he glances up with Hollow-gold eyes, and Senzou smiles and meets them without flinching.

“Why would you say that?” Ichigo asks in even tones, but the office suddenly seems darker.

Senzou shrugs carelessly. “Urahara has a bit of a reputation for… working outside the box. It’s not just me who thinks it, Ichi-chan. There aren’t many who knew him who wouldn’t take one look at you and guess that he had something to do with your existence.” He pauses. “Although admittedly, I suppose the worst of these rumours come from the ones who want him back most. Central 46 doesn’t benefit half as much without his skills in assassination and technological development. It must’ve been a blow to their egos when Urahara refused their invitation to come back after the Winter War. They might be hoping enough unease over any other projects he’s bound to be working on would be enough to make him come back under their protection-”

“That’s not called protection,” Ichigo growls, and Senzou stops, words withering on his tongue.

There is something about the black abyss of Ichigo’s unblinking stare that makes some base instinct in even Senzou want to back away, run, throw himself at this eldritch entity’s feet and beg for mercy. He squashes the urge and smiles like monsters don’t exist.

Ichigo blinks. The darkness in his eyes recede, and the room clears again, bright with the sunshine pouring in through the open window. A shadow passes over his face, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Senzou catches a glimpse of fangs.

“Well that sucks,” The boy remarks succinctly like the silhouette on the far wall behind him doesn’t outline a grinning mouth with too many teeth. “It’s none of their business anyway. Kisuke prefers his shop. He’s his own boss there, and he likes it that way. Central 46 will just have to deal with Kurotsuchi.”

He flips open his notebook and shoves his essay over. “Now come on, we only have an hour today, and you said you’d go over this bit with me.”

Senzou nods and drops the subject. But three weeks later, he laughs when whispers tell of five Central 46 members retiring from their seats, replaced by one Shiba elder, one Shihouin, one Kuchiki, and two seated officers from the Gotei, one of which has served long enough that she doesn’t mind semi-retiring, and the other who prefers more time at a desk job over constant fieldwork. Both have roots that trace back to the slums of Rukongai. Twelve days after that, the Soutaichou announces a new official position filled by Urahara Kisuke - Human World Liaison - and a team of his choice, effective immediately.

“You don’t waste any time,” is Senzou’s greeting the next time he sees Ichigo after that debacle.

Ichigo, seated on the edge of the Academy roof and surveying the rest of Seireitei (like a ruler looking over his kingdom), waves a dismissive hand that trails solid shadows through the air. “People who’ve never been Shinigami shouldn’t be allowed to judge them. Kyouraku-san agreed.”

“I’m sure he did,” Senzou agrees, fighting near-hysterical glee down to a chuckle as he drops down to sit beside Ichigo.

He wonders if this is what it looks like, for a man to crown himself without even trying while most of the world cheers him on.

He glances to the side, arching an eyebrow when he finds Ichigo watching him. “Yes, Ichi-chan?”

There’s a disappointing lack of irritable twitching this time, but the thoughtful look Ichigo has levelled on him instead is more interesting.

“I have finals starting next week,” Ichigo says abruptly. “So I won’t be coming by the Academy until I’m done.”

Well, less interesting than he’d expected. “I’ll pick up your assignments for you,” Senzou offers, feeling generous. It’s not every day Central 46 takes a beating. He doesn’t care about Aizen, but if there was one thing he did right, it was butchering the judiciary authority on the way out. One group of them anyway.

Ichigo snorts. Rude. “Thanks, but I was thinking, you could join me down there for once instead of me coming up to meet you here. I want to concentrate on my university exams, but I have to eat and stretch my legs sometime. If you want, I could show you around campus. Kisuke can lend you a gigai so you won’t even have to request one from the Twelfth and wait for the acquisition forms to be approved.”

The first thing Senzou wants to say is I can’t. Because he can’t. Central 46 can’t make him do shit anymore, but short of slaughtering his way to the Senkaimon or disappearing into the Rukongai and living out the rest of his life as a fugitive, he can’t leave Seireitei. He doesn’t hate it here so much that he’d prefer either of those options, but the truth of the matter is, this is as much his home as it is his prison.

(A very pretty cage indeed.)

So he can’t, but Ichigo isn’t stupid, he should’ve already figured it out, or guessed, if not from the start after whatever his family told him about Senzou, then in the five months since. Stuck at the Academy because he’s too much of a wild card to go on missions.

Ichigo isn’t stupid, but neither is he cruel, not to those he has no quarrel with - that much Senzou can accept as truth. That he’s bringing this up anyway…

So, “How?” He asks instead, raising his eyebrows when Ichigo actually barks out a laugh. And then his eyes widen when Ichigo twists fingers through the air, and a Garganta springs into existence beside them.

“This can take us there,” Ichigo grins. “And no one will ever even know if you don’t want them to.”

Senzou stares from him to the murky void and back again. “…Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why would you offer?

They’ve known each other for five months, six if you count the one Senzou spent studying him. Most of that time has been spent in private tutoring sessions, and it’s benefitted Senzou as much as it has Ichigo. He technically shouldn’t be teaching Ichigo even half the Kidou Corps secrets he’s already imparted, but Ichigo makes it worth his while - quick on the uptake, a challenge in the sparring ring, and a breath of fresh air from the tedious drudgery of teaching his other students. Occasionally, they even go out for meals, tucked away in a quiet corner of a restaurant or a food stand. And sometimes, Ichigo brings souvenirs back with him from his trips to the Human world - fiction, toys, tech, trinkets the living modern age has that Soul Society does not - and he gifts them not only to his friends amongst the students but also to Senzou these days.

It’s a friendlier relationship than Senzou thought he’d ever have with anyone outside his sister, doubly so for a Shiba. Then again, Ichigo’s barely that, thank the Soul King, even if he was raised by one of the worst examples of that clan.

“Why not?” Ichigo counters, like it isn’t downright unnatural for anyone to do anything for Senzou, mostly because he’d rather stab himself in the face than fall into anybody’s debt. People avoid him when they can because he is cruel, and that’s the way Senzou likes it. He has high standards and little tolerance for things that bore him. Nothing bores him as easily as people do.

Until Ichigo.

“You don’t wanna be stuck here all the time,” Ichigo continues. “And I have an easy way out. So yeah, why not?”

Senzou turns his gaze to the horizion, past the sprawling streets and buildings of Seireitei to the sun setting beyond the wall.

He looks at the Garganta again. When Ichigo doesn’t move to stop him, he reaches over and lets his fingers drift past the mouth of the portal. The void is cool to the touch but not freezing the way he’d half-imagined.

He retrieves his hand. “A campus tour then?” He muses lightly, and Ichigo’s features brighten in response.

Senzou almost sighs. He thinks he might understand now. Ichigo is a little more like a Shiba after all. It’s just that he’s also a little more manipulative than one would expect of him. Senzou had all but told him not to interfere, to play hero for someone else, so Ichigo had backed off. But he’d figured out what Senzou wanted anyway, and his solution was to offer another way out instead.

Persistent, without disrespecting boundaries, and cunning enough to find another answer. In that regard, he’s nothing like his Shinigami relatives, who are always so loud about their intentions.

Charismatic, but… discreetly, almost insidiously so.

Senzou blinks. And then glances sharply at Ichigo again. His eyes look bronze in the light of the sunset, with the heat of his Hollow just beneath it. He has his head propped up against one loose fist, elbow balanced on one knee.

He smiles, almost guileless if not for the possessive resolve in the curve of that expression, and Senzou thinks, unbidden, ah. That’s how he won their devotion.

He gave his friends and family and allies everything they wanted, everything they needed, threw his heart and soul and body into every fight in their defense, shattered himself and rebuilt himself to protect the ones he’d taken under his wing, and so when the time came, how could any of them have done anything less for him?

It had probably not even been something Ichigo had done consciously from the beginning, it was just how he was built, through a quirk of the genetic fun park Urahara had ensured, or perhaps from the numerous near-death experiences life had forced him into. Ichigo probably hadn’t been aware, at first.

But he definitely is now.

Senzou thinks Ichigo is only just starting with him. Senzou’s already been claimed, because - for whatever reason - Ichigo wants him.

It probably says a lot that even this early on, even having already figured it out, Senzou… can’t say he cares enough to protest.

A Shiba in his bones, but leagues more dangerous by far.

4. The Human world is bigger than he remembers. Size-wise, it’s the same. But there’s a lot more in it than he thought, and he isn’t sure if that’s due to the passage of time or because he’d never spent more time than strictly necessary here when he took missions on the material plane back in the day.

Either way, he’s free to explore it now, even if just a small part of it for the time being. The campus of Ichigo’s school is large and sprawling, and with Urahara’s gigai and fake IDs and some Human money (he trades them for a box of seal traps even Tsukabishi Tessai wouldn’t know of because they’re Senzou’s own creation, and Urahara smiles like he understands and doesn’t object), it’s easy enough to come and go once Ichigo drops him off.

“You bought an apartment?” Senzou asks the first time Ichigo shows him the place and lets him poke around inside. It’s recognizably a living space, but it’s foreign to him all the same, with a generous open floor plan and wide windows, marble countertops in the kitchen and dark wooden cabinets and a bathroom constructed of polished chrome and gleaming tile.

“Kisuke bought me an apartment,” Ichigo corrects, flopping down on the couch where he has papers and books spread all over the coffee table and floor. His hair’s shorter today, barely past his shoulders, tipped black and hanging loose. Senzou is vaguely curious about what the boy’s classmates think of it.

“I wanted my own place,” Ichigo explains. “But Kisuke took one look at the rent I could afford and practically frog-marched me here instead. Then he had Yoruichi-san steal all my stuff and move it here, and then he said I might as well just take it because staying would be less work than moving all my stuff back.” He snorts, but it’s a fond sound. “The asshole. It’s not like I’d want to turn this place down. But it’s a bit much, so I try to help him with his research projects whenever I can in exchange.”

Senzou digests this with briefly raised eyebrows but says nothing. Urahara probably considers this another desperate form of making amends, and Ichigo probably knows it too. He probably wouldn’t have accepted otherwise.

“There’s a guest bedroom,” Ichigo calls after him as Senzou wanders down the hall to investigate exactly that. “Rukia’s stayed overnight, Renji too, and a few of my human friends have as well, but I always clean the place after they leave, so if you wanna stay tonight, feel free.”

That’s all the conversation between them for the rest of the day. Ichigo already showed him the campus the day before, and after tossing him a key to the apartment, Senzou is free to wander off and explore on his own.

Two weeks of regular visits to the Human world, and he still feels a little awkward in one of the shirts and jeans and sweater that that Quincy friend of Ichigo’s had shoved on him before whirlwinding back out again, apparently neck-deep in the middle of his own finals project.

“It’s Ishida, he makes clothes for everyone,” was Ichigo’s unhelpful clarification. “You help by walking around and looking good in them.”

So Senzou does, and part of him feels like he should stand out more, but nobody gives him more than a passing glance at most. Well, some do, but he recognizes shallow attraction well enough to ignore it.

In the end, he finds himself spending the most time in the libraries and lecture halls, slipping into the back of a classroom and listening to lessons he actually has to pay attention to to even understand some of what the professor is talking about. The science lectures mostly go over his head, and he’s never been interested in that field anyway so he doesn’t bother putting much effort into following them. It’s the literature courses he likes the most. There aren’t any at the Academy, not like this, and there are so many more books in so many more languages and genres than Senzou ever thought there existed in the world.

Soul Society suddenly seems so small in comparison.

It’s always an exercise in patience every time he has to return to Seireitei to teach now. After the first two weeks of almost daily trips to the Human world, he orders - on a whim - the students from his upper-year classes to split into groups before assigning each of them a project due at the end of the term on the theoretical creation of three new Kidou spells.

Group projects are not a thing at the Academy. Senzou wonders why.

He tells them that at least two of the research sources have to be from outside the Academy, and he smirks when he follows Fujiwara Asuka to the First Division compound to speak with her cousin, and then the Eighth to speak with her cousin’s former lieutenant, and then even braving the Fourth, straight-backed and stiff with anxiety but marching in anyway with her nervous group members in tow until she manages to wrangle fifteen minutes of time from a few of the healers willing to answer her questions about Kaidou.

Even here, Ichigo’s influence flourishes.

Outside the classroom, Senzou begins collecting copies of Human books. He half-bribes, half-blackmails the librarian into setting aside a section for him, and then he begins his own project of filling it.

“You’ve been busy,” Ichigo remarks when he staggers in from his last exam and collapses into a chair just as Senzou finishes setting the table for dinner.

Senzou arches an eyebrow, smirking when Ichigo just rolls his eyes.

“People tell me things,” Ichigo informs him, barely waiting for Senzou to sit down before falling onto the meal like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“You would make a poor king if people didn’t,” Senzou murmurs, smiling serenely when Ichigo’s eyes flick up to meet his. It’s not as intimidating when his cheeks are bulging like a chipmunk’s.

Actually, Ichigo in the Human world just seems less… overwhelming in general. It isn’t as if he’s any less powerful. This particular gigai doesn’t restrict him in any way. But there’s a relaxed quality in him here that Senzou’s observed in the past three weeks that’s always absent when he’s the rawest form of himself up in Seireitei.

“Soul Society needs to change,” Ichigo says at last, instead of denying anything. “If that means kicking it in the ass until it stops fucking up the lives it’s supposed to be looking after, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Yes, and Senzou has no doubt he’ll succeed. The majority of those in power have no desire to stop Ichigo. Those who do aren’t strong enough. And Ichigo wants it. He wants it with a conviction Senzou has never seen in anyone, almost obsessive in its unfaltering desire… like the abyssal hunger of a Hollow and the eternal grudge of a Quincy and the timeless pride of a Shinigami all rolled into one.

Ichigo wants it, and he’ll get what he wants.

The Soul King knows the universe owes him that much, and even if it didn’t, Senzou doubts it would make a single bit of difference to their God-Slayer.

He lifts his mug in a toast. “Then I look forward to your endeavours. You’ll need to watch out for Central 46′s spies though. I’m sure they won’t take this lying down.”

Ichigo cocks an eyebrow. “Is that an offer to keep your ear to the ground for me?”

Senzou attempts an innocent face, which works about as well as he expects when Ichigo snorts. “A mere Academy teacher like me probably can’t help much, but…” He thinks of the seals he’d planted throughout the entire Central 46 compound every time he’d had to report in, slowly but surely sneaking invisible ears into the heart of Soul Society’s government. “I might hear things now and then. I’ll pass it on if it happens to be interesting.”

Ichigo grins and tips his own mug at Senzou like they aren’t talking treason.

5. “So.”

Senzou almost rolls his eyes. The Shibas’ commitment to their theatrics clearly hasn’t changed.

“Kuukaku-chan,” He says instead as he strides into his office and smothers the urge to draw his blade on the woman sitting on his desk like she’s posing for Most Dramatic. He smiles instead, hiding the teeth of it behind his lips. “What a pleasure.”

Kuukaku grins back without any of the same courtesy. Of course. “None at all, I’m sure, so I’ll get straight to the point. What are you doing with Ichigo?”

Senzou does roll his eyes this time. “You’ll have to be more specific. As of yesterday, he’s teaching me how to drive a car.” His lip curls. “It’s a mode of transportation Humans have developed.”

“I know what a car is,” Kuukaku snaps, finally hopping down from the desk to prowl across the room. “Why is he teaching you? What do you want with him?”

Senzou pauses halfway through setting down a stack of essays to be marked. “…If I said vengeance on the Shiba Clan once I’ve convinced him to side with me, would that be about what you were expecting?”

Kuukaku glares and crosses her arms. “Ichigo would never.”

Senzou smirks. “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you? You’ve wasted a trip.”

He brushes past her to flip through the paperwork on his desk. End-of-term reports are coming up, and that’s always a waste of his time, so the sooner he gets them done the better.

“I know you resent us for what happened to Miyako,” Kuukaku says from behind him, and Senzou wonders if he can just walk out. Probably, but there’s no way this woman won’t cause a scene. “But Ichigo wasn’t part of any of that.”

Senzou heaves a sigh and turns back around. “Kuukaku-chan, I thought we just established that we both know that using Ichigo against your family won’t work.”

“No,” Kuukaku nods. “But you could hurt him to get back at us.”

They eye each other for a long moment, not quite hostile but far from amicable.

“…My vengeance for Miyako was not lifting a finger when your clan was all but massacred,” Senzou finally says, ignoring the way Kuukaku’s expression pinches. “And so long as contact with you and yours is kept at an absolute minimum in the future, I don’t care anymore. Besides, there is no point in targeting Ichigo to get to you.” He sneers. “He’s a Shiba, but it would be an insult to consider him one of you.”

Kuukaku bristles but doesn’t explode in anger the way some of her even more hot-tempered relatives would. She stares at him instead, and when she doesn’t speak right away, Senzou goes back to organizing the contents of his desk.

“Say I believe that,” Kuukaku finally says, ignoring Senzou’s scoff. “Maybe you are hanging out with Ichigo with no ulterior motives. The gods know he makes that easy. But if that’s what you’re doing, there’s no way you won’t be seeing more of the rest of us eventually. He wasn’t raised the way a Shiba should’ve been, with none of our traditions and only a fraction of the family he should’ve had. That’s on us. But he’s still family, and so long as he doesn’t say no, we’re going to be a part of his life. You’re going to have to accept that if you plan on marrying in.”

The shelf closes with a resounding thud under his hand, and judging by the give, he’s probably cracked the back of it too. He barely notices as his gaze snaps back up to stare incredulously at his uninvited visitor. “I beg your pardon?”

Kuukaku smiles thinly, and this time she looks more amused than anything else. “Something to consider. But you’re more like Miyako than most people would think.” Her arms drop to her sides as she turns abruptly towards the window. “That’s all I had to say. You’re a smart man, Senzou. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fuck up.”

And before Senzou can demand an explanation or - more likely - set her on fire for cracking such an abysmal joke, she’s gone, disappearing through the window in a rush of Shunpo.

Senzou stares after her, then at the books he’d carried in earlier, then at the paperwork he’s putting off for the weekend because he has dinner with Ichigo tonight… just as he does almost every night nowadays.

He runs a hand over his face.

Shibas.

6. He says nothing. He’s self-aware enough to know (now, damn Kuukaku) that there’s something there, a spark, a connection, a pull Senzou has never felt towards anyone. He isn’t going to call it love or whatever Kuukaku thinks is happening because it isn’t. He finds Ichigo fascinating and endlessly entertaining, and anyone willing to face down Central 46 is worthy of some admiration in Senzou’s opinion. That Ichigo plans on turning the whole system upside-down and actually has the power to achieve it only raises Senzou’s esteem for him.

But he says nothing because Ichigo knows all this already. The day Senzou’s first instinct, when an assassin sent by Central 46 attempts to take Ichigo’s head, is to slit the hapless woman’s throat - even though he knows full well that she wouldn’t have come anywhere near to succeeding - is the moment Ichigo gets irrefutable proof that Koyonagi Senzou is willing to kill for him.

Ichigo doesn’t gloat of course, he isn’t the type. Senzou half-expects it anyway, breath caught in his lungs for a moment with something disgracefully close to fear twisting in his gut as he turns to check Ichigo’s reaction.

But Ichigo only wrinkles his nose and toes the fresh corpse at his feet, and then he glances at the blood splatter dotting Senzou’s shirt and offers to get him a new one.

He also reaches out to touch the hilt of Senzou’s Zanpakutou before nodding once, deliberately, solemnly, the weight of it as much a thanks as it is an acknowledgement.

And that was that. Senzou relaxes, doesn’t bat an eye when shadows surge up and swallow the body whole, and goes to change into another shirt. The incident passes, and it will be longer still before Ichigo’s enemies realize they probably should’ve tried harder to get rid of Senzou years ago. They’d thought themselves safe enough though: they would never earn Senzou’s allegiance, but at the same time, nobody - including Senzou - ever thought anybody else would earn it either.

But the point is, Ichigo knows. Senzou has no need to speak of it, and both of them are content with that. If something more comes of it down the road, Senzou doesn’t think he’d fight it. He lost this battle a good while ago, and he never even cared.

In the meantime though, he spies on Central 46 and enjoys what time he can spare in the Human world and continues reconstructing Seireitei’s education system brick by stubborn brick. There’s a kingdom to conquer and a god Senzou has pledged himself to, and for now, that is enough.

[cate-deriana]

Synchronicity

So, here is my first contribution to IRmonth20. It may be a little messy and all over the place but I wanted to get this headcanon idea out :D So yeah, enjoy!

Prompt #4 - crossing blades, crossing hearts

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

It had been two days – although it had more felt like ages – since their arrival in the Royal Realm. Apart from strange meetings with even stranger residents, well zero squad members if you wanted to be precise, nothing really noteworthy had occurred… until that morning.

“So starting today the two of you will be training together.” Ichibei threw at them without further explanation.

It took a few seconds to sink in, before Ichigo tilted his head with a raised eyebrow looking at the so-called ‘leader’ of this squad with a questioning expression: “Sorry… what?”

“Are we playing deaf, Kurosaki Ichigo? The final battle is just around the corner, we don’t have time for this. You and Kuchiki will be training together. You have chemistry, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Ichigo peeked over to Rukia standing next to him from the corner of an eye, then back to Ichibei: “I am fine with that. But Rukia had barely two days to recover, she nearly died and you want her to start training again today?”

Now the zero squad leader was the one to raise an eyebrow – a rare sight: “Well, do you want to win the war or do you want us all to die?”

The orange haired shinigami’s expression darkened but his eyes glared with determination: “I want to win, of course. But…” He tried to object again but was cut off by Rukia: “Stop insulting my abilities! I am able to decide if I’m ready to train again for myself.”

She had turned to face him visibly angered.

He did the same trying to cool down his temper. Otherwise things would get out of hand rather quickly: “This is not about your abilities it’s…”

“Stop protecting me!” She shot at him.

Screw his temper.

“Oh, sorry I thought that was the deal: I am protecting you and you are protecting me that’s how it works!”

The argument went on while Ichibei was watching them slightly shaking his head: “Yeah, you two have good chemistry. Hopefully that’ll save us all.”

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

“So, that’s the training ground you’ll be using. Quarters are over there and behind that you’ll find one of those hot springs to heal your wounds and recover. You’ll be training together, eating together, sleeping together. … And with sleeping together I don’t mean sleeping with each other. That’s not what you have to do – unless you want to of course, I’ve heard there was some unresolved tension. I’ll come to check on you once in a while. Any questions? No? Then I’ll see you around.”

  ----------------------------

That was what Ichibei had said before leaving them, alone. About three or four days had passed since. They had been training constantly for something the squad leader had called ‘reiatsu syncing’. Seemingly the zero division and some other questionable ex-shinigami, namely Urahara Kisuke, believed there was a possibility to defeat the ‘future foreseeing’ Juhabach with some telepathic ability that would make it impossible for him to take a look in said future because he would not be able to foresee what he could not see. Why they believed Juhabach was even able to see the future was beyond Ichigo. As far as he knew he wasn’t, maybe they knew more than him. But that wasn’t the point.

They of course were all convinced that only Rukia and him would be able to gain this telepathy ‘reiatsu syncing’ ability. The reason? Well, apparently it was because they had more than once shared the same reiatsu before. He wasn’t sure if he should really believe them and their far-fetched theories. Just because Rukia had transferred her powers to him twice didn’t necessarily conclude in them being able to communicate without words. Ok, maybe there had been moments when he had been sure to know exactly what she was thinking but… that was not the same as talking through mere thoughts, was it?

“When will you finally stop holding back, Ichigo?”

Rukia’s scolding voice brought him back to reality. They were in the middle of training, no miraculous telepathic conversation had occurred yet.

“I am not holding back.” He sounded as if he had to convince himself as well.

“Yes you are. I know how strong you really are so stop holding back and come at me with full force. Where is the point in training if you can’t even do that?” Her voice wasn’t angered although she hated him for going easy on her, for underestimating her out of fear she might get hurt.

“If I come at you with full force I might kill you.” Ichigo stated dryly.

She crossed her arms, her tone a little scolding: “I don’t want you to kill me I want you to start fighting seriously. I am not that weak you know?” Rukia let out a sigh putting Sode no Shirayuki down. “I guess we should have started with those stupid training swords. That way you wouldn’t have to be afraid of accidentally cutting me in half.” The irony in her voice was evident. “Though I have at least learned how to properly wield a sword. I should be the one at advantage here not someone who thought he could just chop a Menos into tiny little pieces to reach its top.” She shook her head disbelieving adding a mumbled “Stupid” to her rant.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have the privilege to go to Shino Academy just to drop out midway cause I have a wealthy brother.” Ichigo tried to counterattack with his equally sarcastic remark.

Rukia’s eyes darkened: “You know what? Renji wouldn’t hold back.” Her reiatsu rose to a dangerous level. “Because he acknowledges me as a warrior.”

Ichigo’s expression changed in an instant after hearing the red head’s name from her mouth, he was in fighting mode and mood obviously: “You want me to go all out, yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer his hand already on the arm holding his sword.

“Ban-kai!”

Rukia watched his transformation with a content smile as he was engulfed in black: “Now we’re talking.”

Maybe she should have given him a moment, given them a moment but one she didn’t want to get into another argument with him again and two she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. “Bankai.” It echoed in the air before the training ground was covered with a thin ice layer, the temperature gradually dropping.

Ichigo didn’t have any time to comprehend what happened when her sword suddenly clashed with his really close to his face. He didn’t see her attack coming at all, because… well…

“Y…you have achieved bankai?” The shinigami substitute managed to get out, their zanpakutous frozen in place. The superior smile on her lips widened: “Surprised?”

His eyes travelled down and up again examining her new form. A somewhat inappropriate thought crossed his mind. He tried to shake it off: “Well… uhm…” If he wasn’t in the middle of a fight he would’ve scratched the back of his head in an awkward situation like that.

“I thought you were a lot faster than this.” Her voice brought him back to reality.

“Huh?”

“Your bankai.” She clarified for him. Something in her eyes left no doubt that she was seriously challenging him and something inside him couldn’t resist that.

He gave her a provoking look: “I’m just getting started.” Ichigo pushed her away with his sword.

“Finally.” Her smile didn’t fade.

The battlefield’s atmosphere changed, black and white flashes being the only thing that could still be seen. They were not really fighting against each other but rather fighting alongside, equally, synching their steps, their moves as if they were dancing. They were paying attention to each other but at the same time pushing each other to their limits. It would have probably continued like that a lot longer if Ichigo didn’t skip a step of their choreography for – payback time you could say.

Rukia found zangetsu only inches away from her throat, Ichigo’s body pressed against hers from behind.

“I got you.” His breath was touching her cheek.

Sode no Shirayuki was uselessly dangling in her right hand. She could have probably stabbed his foot, but… Rukia didn’t want to admit defeat, not yet, not now and certainly not in this position. That… was definitely too close and too… She paused – that could work.

Ichigo was damn sure she wouldn’t be able to escape him that easily. I thought you were a lot faster, huh? Of course he was he’d made that more than clear now. His pride would crumble only moments later.

She turned her head to him: “Don’t be so sure.”

Before he could realize what she was up to a sharp pain shot through his left leg causing him to drop his sword. It felt as if it had been frozen… Oh, that’s what she had done. He sighed trying to keep his balance but the leg gave away.

Rukia was about to declare her victory when Ichigo grabbed her wrist in the last possible moment pulling her down with him. If she didn’t let go of her sword she would have probably pierced his chest with it – again. Without it, it was only her unarmed-self landing on top of him. She propped herself up, one hand on the ground the other on his chest, furiously glaring at Ichigo: “What are you doing?!”

“What are you doing?! You just froze my leg!”

Wouldn’t it have been for their newly found argument she would’ve noticed a lot sooner that the position they were in now was a lot more indecent than the one before.

Instead of counter arguing Rukia looked to the side mumbling her retort rather to herself: “You didn’t leave me with another option…” Her eyes wandered around as if she was searching for the next thing to say, her right hand subconsciously travelling over his chest.

She wanted to put the blame on him alone for this but had to admit that it was at least halfway her fault as well. Then again if he didn’t have to prove his abilities then… her eyes caught her hand realizing the feeling of her skin on his.

Did Ichigo always have a muscular body like this?

Her eyes were still fixed on his chest questioningly tilting her head.

“No, actually that was a lot of training.”

Rukia nodded absentmindedly before it hit her in the face: “Wait! What?!” Her eyes shot up to him: “You heard that?!” She sounded a little hysteric, understandably so. Rukia watched him in shock a few seconds then rolled herself on her back next to him. That didn’t just happen. He was just making fun of her again and didn’t have the slightest clue what she’d… Wait, did she say that out loud? She was ruffling her hair trying to calm down her breath. Her heart was racing. Seriously, if this was a joke it wasn’t funny…

“I didn’t know you payed attention to this kind of things.”

She would’ve liked to kill him for this stupid grin his voice gave away. Rukia exhaled deeply, biting her lip in order to keep her anger contained: “Well, I didn’t. That’s the reason I didn’t notice until now.”

Ichigo folded his arms behind his head she could see it from the corner of her eye. He was taking this so casually. “I didn’t know you saw me like that.” His idiot smile was still there, as if he had just learned that his high school crush liked him back.

“Like what?” Her voice was indifferent, even a little annoyed. She wanted to get this conversation over with.

He turned to the side to face her. She didn’t do the same.

“Like a man.”

Now she did. She rested her head on her hand and looked at him with a sarcastic expression: “Uhm, as far as I remember you are one, right? Unless you are actually a woman and are just really good in disguising as a man and making everyone believe you were one.”

Ichigo repressed a laugh: “I take that as a yes.”

Rukia rolled back onto her back: “Do what you want.”

A moment of silence followed.

Then she suddenly heard his voice in her head:

Your bankai looks really good on you. It’s beautiful.

Rukia turned only her head, skeptical if she had really heard him say that.

It suits you.

His lips had not moved at all.

It’s even… a little sexy.

Her eyes widened when she instantly jumped to her feet trying to get a few steps away: “Okay, that’s enough! I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but this is definitely going too far.”

He’d never seen her so close to panicking before.

We’re in the middle of war. We cannot. This is not about us. We have to…

“Rukia.” He grabbed her shoulder turning her around to him: “Don’t you see what just happened?”

She was frozen in her spot just like their surroundings had because of her bankai.

“It worked.” He declared in triumph when she didn’t react, another rare smile on his face.

She blinked at him a few times until it finally sank in.

“We did it.” Rukia murmured. He was right she did hear his thoughts – word for word. “We really did it.” She repeated, this time fully aware what this meant. They would be able to defeat him, to win, to end the war.

A few moments of silence followed. None of them really knew what to say or what to think. There wouldn’t be any way to hide from now on, would it?

Ichigo cleared his throat breaking the awkward moment between them: “Well, uhm… So…” He looked right then left, not sure how to tell her. “You know… now that… we are able to hear each other’s thoughts…” This time he did scratch the back of his head. “Well now that you will find out anyway... I can just tell you myself… I guess.” A deep exhale followed before he looked back into her eyes: “I really like you. Not as a friend, not as my partner in battle, not as the person who saved my life, but…”

“I know.”

A frown appeared on his face and he looked a little confused. Rukia just smiled one of her soothing smiles: “I mean it’s not like we had no idea about our feelings for each other until now.”

His frown deepened. “Weren’t you the one close to panic just a second ago because I hinted something like that? And now you are acting like this is absolutely normal?”

She rolled her eyes, a little sigh followed: “Well, now that you’ve actually said it… there’s no reason to anymore. When you’re set to do something nothing and no one can stop you, that’s how it’s always been. So… as you said – we’ll know anyway.”

I’d like to kiss you.

What’s holding you back?

I don’t know, isn’t this… What if you’re right and this is going too fast?

We’re at war, yes. Maybe it’s not the best timing.

Thought so.

But, maybe it’ll help us. Because there’s nothing left unsaid between us.

So you think we will win?

What do you think?

Well I can do anything, as long as you are right next to me. So, yeah we will.

We will.

We will win.

 And then he kissed her. And he would wonder why they didn’t do this earlier. And she would ‘say’ that he just didn’t ask.

They would fight the finally battle together. They would win. They would survive. They would save everyone just like the zero squad and Urahara had hoped. But most importantly in the end they would be happy. And Juhabach would never return.

 Because it was their story – a story where life and death would no longer be apart.

[hanmajoerin]

Polished, but pulled straight from the 2015 vault. Please excuse slightly dated versions of Rinne and Sakura, I wrote this prior to the end of the series.

Summary: Ever since she could see ghosts, Sakura wasn’t afraid of death. Maybe she was afraid of dying, but not what happened afterwards; then she met Rinne, and it was suddenly too hard to be afraid of dying, too.

II AO3 II Fanfiction.Net II

Overtime

The last time Rinne wore that expression was five minutes after Sakura wheeled her life—three suitcases, two purses, and one overstuffed backpack—into the center of his studio apartment. Sakura was practically wheezing as she said, "I want to live with you, Rinne." It was more of a demand than a request, and once she could stand without having to brace her knees, Sakura shrugged her purses and backpack right into the apartment's entryway.

She refused to let Rinne tell her no, a word that appeared to be resting on the edge of his open mouth. She supposed that it shouldn’t have surprised her though when his response finally came. “You deserve more than this.”

Rinne wasn’t necessarily wrong. The place he and Rokumon called home was maybe three steps above Sankai High’s rundown clubhouse. There was a clunky A/C unit that was barely used, a musty aroma that clung to some of Tamako’s old furniture, and a dingy light that hung in the center of the studio apartment’s main room. It was a far cry from a dream home, but Sakura wasn’t looking for that. She’d been looking for him. Sweating through her skin during the summer and shivering regardless of how many sweaters she piled on during the winter didn’t seem all that bad if she and Rinne could continue passing on souls together. That’s why, even after all of this time, she stood by her response to him. “It’s enough.”

Earlier today Sakura stood next to Rinne at her own funeral; it was a bit weird to watch since she felt very much alive, but she stayed in place, hand clamped onto Rinne's shoulder. The shinigami wore an indifferent expression although he stood as rigid as a wooden plank. Death and finding peace were everyday occurrences for both of them she hadn't meant to change, but it was likely all he was thinking about. He was nodding his head, playing along, but she bet he was figuring out how much time was left. Sakura wondered if she should recycle her words from over sixty years ago, but didn’t. Call it intuition, but she figured that the phrase, “it’s enough,” wouldn't have the same effect now. "I'm right here," was all she decided to say whenever his voice strained while talking to her relatives and friends.

After the funeral, Rinne remained in one of her father's black suits, and because he didn't look a day over thirty-five, it continued to fit better than any glove. The dress shoes he wore were weathered, faded. They belonged to Rinne’s grandfather. The outsoles were thin yet Sakura heard each step he took in the afterlife; it was as if they were somehow tangled in the dirt, and he needed to drag himself forward.

They just made it to the street vendors bordering the Entry of Contentedness when it hit Sakura. A new kind of silence was stretching between them that felt out of place, or rather, dated. The two spent most of their lives together, so now was the oddest time to feel like high schoolers again. That's why Sakura hooked her arm around the familiar folds of the haori of the underworld. Her hand easily slid down to Rinne’s. With all its sunken skin and protruding veins, Sakura often wondered if it was weird for her hand to sit in his. Rinne never mentioned anything, even when she was alive. He offered her a gentle albeit forced smile.

"I remember the last few times I was here," Sakura confessed, sounding surprisingly chipper as she took in all the new old faces. "Back when I ripped your haori sleeve, everyone kept asking me if I had any unfinished business and they were so happy that I forgot I had to return it. I think I really understand them now, though."

Rinne offered her another crooked smile, one that was nowhere near as genuine as his salesman’s smile. "That's because it's easy to get swept up in the atmosphere of this area."

"Are you happy now?" Sakura inquired, not bothering to listen to his response. She was lucky, dying an old woman. Although she tended to walk slower, she could walk ten times faster than the stroll Rinne took her on. She wasn’t the one with the attachments. "I wonder what Ageha will do once she realizes I'm gone," Sakura said, staring at the string of red lanterns lining the strip.

"She's still trying to take my old man down; probably won't be back for a while..."

Sakura nodded, watching as one of the elderly men tried catching a goldfish. "That boot-camp her parents sent her to really helped. I never thought she'd learn to pass on souls like you... it definitely made things easier for Oboro."

"Yeah," Rinne hummed and Sakura squeezed his hand. "Jumonji's going to throw an entire briefcase of holy ash at me when I tell him you made it to the wheel," he mumbled, finally looking down at Sakura. His eyes shined like glass. He chuckled alongside her.

"Don’t forget to respond to his new year's letter when you get home," Sakura chided.

In their senior year of high school, Tsubasa transferred again. He promised he'd be back to date Sakura, but once he finally found his exorcism niche, that promise was too difficult to keep. Instead of returning, Tsubasa wrote Sakura a letter every year. After a while, he finally stopped signing them with "Love."

Was it even possible for Sakura to feel more warmth now? She was a content spirit, but the sight of Rinne scoffing and wearing such a nostalgic expression somehow made her feel lighter. "Isn't Tsubasa more tolerable than Matsugo though?" They hadn't seen him since college.

"Sakura Mamiya!" Rinne blurted out, throwing her arm away from his. Sakura couldn’t help but laugh; she hadn’t been called that in decades.

"At least Shoma didn't turn out too bad, right?" The overambitious shinigami inherited his family fortune but still had a lot to learn when it came to pacifying spirits. Rinne helped him out from time to time. "Oh, do you remember when my mother passed? She was so shocked that you offered to lead her to the Wheel of Reincarnation and even more surprised that I could see her."

"Yeah, and your dad tried to kill me when he died; he almost turned into an evil spirit," Rinne added. "Would've been better if he did. At least then I would've gotten a better reward..."

Sakura sighed and stared at the sky above them. It was a mesh of bright colors. Pinks and yellows, soft reds and blues. Whirlpools twirled above them like ballet dancers. Maybe if she didn't know what would happen next, she would've gazed upwards stiffly like her husband. "Did Auntie Tamako tell you how I'll come back?" She asked, leaning against his shoulder as they arrived at the Sanzu River.

Countless adorable boats eased downstream, shinigami and black cats guiding spirits like employees of a theme park. Death and peace, everyday occurrences. Ends followed by new beginnings, an inevitable process. Rinne swept Sakura up bridal style and she leaned her head against his heart. There was no peace to be experienced by listening to it, but Sakura shouldn’t have expected to find comfort in him. They flew over the Sanzu River and Rinne hummed in agreement to Sakura’s question. "You'll be a calico."

And then they arrived at the line, and she was set down. Sakura stared at the stupefied, blissful faces around them. They encouraged her to shed the oncoming urges to memorize every feature on Rinne's face. Sakura Rokudo’s last ties.

"I've had so much fun in this life, and it's all because of you."

The way his shoulders tensed and his mouth quivered when she said stuff like that always made her laugh. "R-really?"

Sakura nodded vigorously, moving in time with the line of souls waiting to step onto the Wheel of Reincarnation. "Yup. Promise you'll find me again so we can make new memories in my next life."

"Alright..." Rinne agreed as a blush blew across the bridge of his nose. "I'll do it."

Rinne lifted her by the waist onto one of the translucent red tiles, planting her square in the center. When Sakura was settled, he interlocked their fingers. "Great," she began, not fighting the pull the wheel had on their grip. "Now I truly have no attachments."

Rinne’s feet lifted off the ground, keeping their hands level. He ignored the idle chatter surrounding them, attempting to mirror Sakura’s carefree attitude. She may have been ready, but he wasn’t. "Excuse me, Sir," a pig-masked worker interrupted, tugging on the bottom of his haori. Maybe it was the spot where the man tugged, but it brought Rinne back to when Sakura used to tug on the sleeve of his office blazer. She’d remind him that, “The only person we should be pacifying until 6:30PM is the manager," as countless spirits wandered through the surrounding cubicles. The memories from their working days seemed so small in light of where they were now and he didn't know what to do. "Shinigami are not permitted beyond this point, please step back onto the platform."

"Right. Sorry," Rinne mumbled, slowly lowering himself until Sakura's hand slid too easily out of his.

She shrunk before his eyes, her spirit becoming more translucent the higher up she went. It took every scrap of courage Rinne had to keep focused. He searched Sakura’s entire face for the moments when they were in high school and he walked a tightrope with their relationship. Her backpack was gone, her uniform was gone, and she hadn't put her hair in braids after their coworker Yumi made fun of her for it, but maybe—just maybe— he'd be able to go back. The years were there after all, lined up along the lines of her face.

"Goodbye,” Sakura said, although he couldn’t really hear her. She waved to him. She asked him to find her. It was a naïve request; humans never lived the same life twice.

"Goodbye, Sakura," Rinne whispered, waving back at his most treasured person as she rounded the top, lost in the Wheel of Reincarnation’s magnificent reds and golds.

-X-

Rinne told Rokumon that he'd return home after guiding Sakura to the Wheel of Reincarnation, but his entire body sagged like a sodden, rotten log. It would be too hard to look at anyone without feeling as if he were troubling them.

"Granny," Rinne stated loudly, sliding the door open and walking into Tamako's house. It was the only place he could stand to be. She was the only one who would understand.

Like clockwork, Tamako materialized to twist her knuckles against Rinne's temples. He was still standing in the genkan. "How many times do I have to tell you not to—Rinne!"

She probably hadn't expected his forehead to fly from her knuckles to her shoulder. Or for the momentum to send them toppling into the hallway. "Rinne?" She asked, raising a brow at the chipped, worn dress shoes his toes dangled over. His back and shoulders rose and fell without rhythm and he wrapped his arms around her but the action brought no comfort. Tamako pushed him back, and Rinne wished she would have let him stay hidden. His eyes glistened as he took deep breaths. "What kind of shinigami are you—crying over something as common as death?"

"I'm a human, kind of thing."