Lindsay's Fanwork Musings

(Unnamed Series) Chapter 2- Complications

2008-01-14T17:26:44Z

Title: temporarily unnamed series, Chapter 2- Complications
Pairing/Characters: Ulquiorra/Orihime, hints at Yoruichi/Soi Fong, other suprise characters...
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter
Warnings: AU, brief mentions of drugs and illegal activities, no spoilers, but it obviously helps if you know who the Espada are
Summary: Aizen, overlord of a major crime syndicate, orders his most faithful servant, Ulquiorra, to guard his daughter, Orihime...

A/N: Still need a title for the series. Any suggestions? Also, un-beta'd again, I apologize. I found someone kind enough to volunteer, but I'm snowed in today and incredibly bored, and I got sick of looking at this and just wanted to put it up and be done with it. Any mistakes are completely my own.
Once again, this is not meant to reflect any real crime syndicate. Don't do drugs, stay in school, etc.

Comments/criticism will earn you internet hugs and eternal gratitude.

Ulquiorra dozed lightly on the couch that night. The past few years had taught him to remain always alert, even in his sleep. Orihime had tried to offer him some plush blankets and pillows, concerned for his comfort, but comfort was of little importance to Ulquiorra. He rose after only a few hours of rest, early the next morning.

He quietly went to Orihime’s room and took a quick look inside to make sure all was as it should be. Sure enough, she was still asleep, face placid and chest rising and falling slowly. Before he could help himself, Ulquiorra noticed how delicate she looked with her long strands of hair fallen haphazardly across her cheeks. He quickly checked himself and left the room.

In the kitchen he put on a pot of water for tea and sat at the table. He decided to use this free time to plan out the things he had to accomplish in the coming days. Even though he had been put on this new assignment he could not slack off in his other duties within the syndicate. About a year ago he had been put in charge of overseeing a major syndicate “investment” in an underground gambling ring. It was his job to meet with its proprietors, review the income records, and deal with anyone who may become a problem.

While he pondered how to get these things done without Orihime’s presence, the girl in question appeared before him, rubbing her eyes and smoothing down her hair.

“Good morning, Ulquiorra-san, did you get some sleep?”

He nodded politely back at her as she yawned and stretched her arms above her head.

“Yes, thank you, Orihime-san.”

Orihime noticed the fresh pot of tea and sat down to join him. As he reached to pour it for her, there was a loud knock at the front door. Orihime jumped up in surprise.

“Who could be stopping by this early?” she wondered out loud.

Ulquiorra wondered the same thing. Cautiously he strode to the front door, careful to keep Orihime behind him. When he looked through the peep hole all he saw was a patch of bright teal. He nearly groaned aloud; it could only be one person, and not someone he was keen on seeing.

He opened the door and frowned at the man on the other side. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, a scowl of annoyance on his f ace. He was slightly older than Ulquiorra, and half a foot taller. He was also broader, and more obviously muscular. His most notable characteristic was his bright teal hair, which matched his icy eyes. Ulquiorra thought it made him look like a stupid teenage punk, but the younger members of the syndicate admired it. Grimmjow had been in the syndicate nearly as long as Ulquiorra, and had also risen in the ranks quickly. Still, he was discontent with his position, and made it known openly that he aimed to take Ulquiorra’s place as Aizen’s favorite. The two seldom saw each other, but when they did the tension was palpable.

The two men stared at each other defiantly for a moment before Orihime broke in. Stepping out from behind Ulquiorra, she smiled nervously and addressed the stranger politely.

“Um, good morning…do you…need something?”
She recognized his black suit as a mark of the syndicate, but she had never met him before, and it was highly unusual for a stranger to show up at her apartment unannounced.

Grimmjow’s eyes drifted from Ulquiorra to Orihime. He looked her over from head to toe unguardedly. Orihime was still in her night gown, though she had thrown a discreet robe on top. Even still, the outline of her curvaceous form was still visible. Grimmjow’s face took on a manner of fake charm, but his eyes betrayed his less-than-chivalrous thoughts. Orihime shrank back from the look, shielding herself behind Ulquiorra once again.

Grimmjow addressed himself to Orihime first, making sure to flash her his best attempt at a charming grin.

“Good morning. Your father sent me to speak to Ulquiorra. I hope I am not disturbing you…”
He gave her a bow, his eyes sweeping over her body yet again.

Ulquiorra caught Grimmjow’s lascivious looks and felt anger rise in his chest. Grimmjow knew better than to disrespect Aizen’s daughter so brazenly. He turned and looked pointedly at Orihime.

“We have business to discuss. Please wait in the kitchen.”

Orihime moved away gratefully and disappeared. Ulquiorra looked back at Grimmjow fiercely, as the older man’s eyes continued to follow the girl as she left.

“Well, what it is?” Ulquiorra demanded tersely through clenched teeth. Grimmjow looked back at him smugly.

“Nice assignment you got here. Too bad a little bastard like you wouldn’t have the guts to take advantage of such an…opportunity.”

Ulquiorra restrained himself, though he longed to teach the punk a lesson in respect. He chose to ignore the insult for the moment, lest things should become heated and Orihime overhear them. Instead, he once again demanded to hear Grimmjow’s message.

“Aizen-sama wants to see you at headquarters for a meeting this morning. He said it’s important, but won’t take long. Bring the chick with you.”

He flashed Ulquiorra one last menacing look, turned abruptly, and was gone. Ulquiorra closed and locked the door behind him, only too glad to be rid of Grimmjow’s infuriating presence.

Ulquiorra returned to the kitchen and found Orihime at the table with her cup of tea. She looked relieved to see him alone, but also anxious.

“We have to go see Aizen-sama today. Get dressed.” He addressed her in a quiet, commanding voice, and left the room silently.

*************************************

Ulquiorra and Orihime arrived at syndicate headquarters a short while later. The building was large, but discreet; from the outside it looked like any other abandoned warehouse. The only clue to its real identity was the groups of black-clad men standing guard around the perimeter.

Ulquiorra led Orihime in by a side door that led directly to Aizen’s private chambers. A guard admitted them, bowing to them both. Inside, this section of the building was decorated in a minimally ornate style, which indicated power and wealth without being gaudy. Ulquiorra led the way through several winding hallways, until they found themselves outside the great oak doors of Aizen’s office. Here, Ulquiorra was admitted quietly, and Orihime was instructed to wait outside with a guard.

Ulquiorra stepped into the office and the doors shut behind him. Aizen sat behind his desk, his face composed in a studied calm, though his nerves were belied by a slight furrowing of his brows. To his right stood two women, both exuding elegance and strength in their black tailored suits. Ulquiorra had not met these women often; in fact, they only seemed to appear when there was a matter of great importance at hand.

These women, Shihouin Yoruichi and Soi Fong, were Aizen’s top infiltration agents. They were often sent on missions to spy on other syndicates. Masters of disguise, martial arts, and deception, they used whatever means necessary to get information. They had never failed a mission, which is why Aizen prized them, despite their being the only high-ranking women in the syndicate. Both women were slender and beautiful, though the men tended to leave them alone. As the rumors went, the two women were lovers.

“Ah, Ulquiorra, I’m glad you received my message. I’m pleased to hear everything is going well. You remember Yoruichi and Soi Fong, yes? They have just informed me of some very grave news.”

Aizen turned to Yoruichi, indicating for her to relate her news to Ulquiorra. She did so, fixing him with a steady glance.

“For the past month Soi Fong and I have been working to infiltrate the Yamamoto syndicate’s laboratories. We had heard rumors that they were developing a powerful new street drug.”

Here she stopped, and Soi Fong took up her narrative seamlessly.

“You have doubtless heard of Kurotshuchi Mayuri, Yamamoto’s top scientist and developer. Just recently he finished the prototype of this new drug. It is a hallucinogenic more powerful than anything on the streets now. We don’t know its exact properties yet, but our top scientists are analyzing it as we speak.” She finished with a small satisfied grin, which mirrored Yoruichi’s.

“Doubtless, Yamamoto has already learned of the drug’s disappearance,” Aizen continued, his voice calm as usual.
“Our disagreement will certainly escalate now. I know you are not involved in this division of our affairs, but this affects your new assignment. I want security higher than ever. Any resources or manpower you require will be at your disposal immediately.”

Ulquiorra considered for a moment. This would very likely increase the risk to Orihime; Yamamoto would stop at nothing to retrieve such a valuable item. Still, unless a specific threat appeared, it would remain safer to keep the guard to a small, trusted group.

“Thank you for the warning, Aizen-sama. I will think this over and make all the necessary arrangements.” He gave a small bow, and Aizen nodded approvingly.

“Very good. Now, I would prefer if you took Orihime home as soon as possible. I do not like her to spend too much time here.” With this, Ulquiorra was dismissed.

***************************************

Meanwhile, Orihime had been left in a small, bare waiting room with one guard, who seemed to have forgotten she was even there. He was carrying on a jovial conversation on his walkie-talkie, completely oblivious to everything else. As the minutes ticked by Orihime grew bored and restless. She decided to sneak out, just to get a glass of water, and be back before the guard noticed. She quietly got up and exited the room, without even a glance from the guard.

Once in the hallway, she found she had no idea where she was going. The hallway was long and winding, and each turn looked identical to the next. There were unlabeled doors here and there, but she didn’t dare enter.

Finally, she emerged from the last hallway into a large, open room which was part of the main section of the warehouse. It was partially filled with random piles of equipment and boxes, stacked haphazardly here and there. It was mostly quiet and deserted, but Orihime noticed a few men milling about in the distance. Orihime knew she wasn’t supposed to associate with the men, and decided to turn back before they noticed her presence.

Just as she turned back into the hallway, a young man was coming out of it, and the two nearly collided. As Orihime stumbled backwards he quickly grabbed her arm to steady her. She was grateful, but when she looked up at him she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. The young man holding onto her was undeniably handsome. He was tall, angular, and lean, but Orihime could feel his strength in his grip. He wore the simple black shirt and armband of a low level recruit, and looked to be about her own age. But it was his face which captured her attention. His face was lean and angular, like the rest of him, set with deep amber eyes. His hair was a messy shock of bright orange, similar to Orihime’s own. He looked down at her with both surprise and concern.

“I-I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly, releasing her arm.

“Oh no, it was my fault, I didn’t look where I was going.” She blushed even deeper and looked away from his searching eyes.

He looked her over for a moment. She was not wearing a uniform, not to mention that women were rarely allowed within headquarters. She obviously didn’t belong here, yet she looked far from suspicious.

“Um, are you…lost, or something?” He asked hesitantly, and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit.

“Actually, yes. I was supposed to wait for someone, but I got bored, and this place is so big…” she admitted, hoping he would not ask for details.

The young man visibly relaxed.
“Well, that’s no problem, I can help you out. My name is Ichigo.” He held out his hand to her.

Orihime was not used to such informality. She called very few people by their first names, especially strangers, and she was more used to bows than handshakes. He obviously didn’t know who she was, but she found she preferred it that way. His informality was comfortable and refreshing. She took his hand and shook it warmly.

“I’m Orihime.”

***********************************

It was about this time that Ulquiorra came out of his meeting. He returned to the waiting room to retrieve Orihime, but found only the guard, still chatting away obliviously. Ulquiorra’s heart raced. He strode over and knocked the walkie-talkie from the guard’s hand violently. His mind was spinning in a mix of panic and rage. The guard looked up and paled when he saw who stood before him.

“Where…is the girl?” Ulquiorra demanded through gritted teeth. The guard continued to look at him dumbly.

“Um, she was here…a minute ago…I think.”

Ulquiorra had no time to deal with this. There would be punishment, but it had to wait. First, he had to find Orihime as quickly as possible. Racing down the hallways, he hoped she had merely wandered off, instead of any of the other unpleasant alternatives. If anything had happened to her, the consequences would be grave. He pushed those thoughts from his mind, and continued to stalk down hallway after hallway.

Finally he heard voices in the distance, and headed towards them. As he came out of the hallway he caught sight of Orihime’s bright hair, and then the man standing beside her. The two were chatting casually, and even from this distance Ulquiorra could hear Orihime’s laughter and see the smiles on both of their faces. Well, she was unharmed, but that only lessened his anger somewhat. This was unacceptable, for Orihime to be fraternizing with a member. Especially such a lowly member, he noted, looking the man over. He didn’t know who he was, but made a mental note to find out. He stopped a short distance away, not trusting himself to keep his temper under control if he were face to face with the stranger.

“Orihime,” he called sharply.

She turned quickly, with a guilty look on her face. She made a quick apology and farewell to Ichigo before turning away and walking over to Ulquiorra. Ichigo continued to watch her as she left, and Ulquiorra gave him a piercing glare before turning away. He strode down the hallway silently, with Orihime in his wake.

He did not notice as Orihime turned back to give a small wave and let out a wistful sigh at the retreating form of Kurosaki Ichigo.

-End chapter 2-

(Unnamed Series) Chapter 1- A New Assignment

2008-01-11T00:22:18Z

Title: temporarily unnamed series, Chapter 1- A New Assignment
Pairing/Characters: Ulqiorra/Orihime, Aizen, others to come later
Rating: PG so far
Warnings: my own AU, beware the strangeness.
Summary: Aizen, overlord of a major crime syndicate, orders his most faithful servant, Ulqiorra, to guard his daughter, Orihime. I won't give away the rest...

A/N: so,this was partly inspired by watching too much cowboy bebop lately, w00t. i want to point out that it takes place in some unidentified city and time, and is not meant to reflect any real criminal syndicate. nope, im not pro-mafia, i just like to play with dramatic scenarios.
this is my first Ulqi/Hime fic, as well as my first AU, and my first multi-chapter! woohoo! so concrit would be most helpful!
this is mostly just an intro to the storyline, more details and characters will come into play later on.
A/N 2: i have not beta, but could probably use one for the rest of the chapters. if you'd like to volunteer, or know someone who's awesome, let me know!

remeber, people, reviews are love.

without further ado...

“Ulquiorra, I have a new task for you.”

The voice was soft as silk but with a hard edge that dared anyone to challenge its authority. The voice matched its owner, Aizen Sousuke, perfectly. Aizen was a man of 50 or so, but time had been kinder to him than most. His exterior was suave and well groomed, his suit expensive, his face naturally handsome and confident.

On either side of him stood a bulky, muscular man, dressed all in black and wearing an imposing frown. Their eyes darted around the room like skittish rabbits, following any sound or movement. Aizen sat between them behind a great mahogany desk, its front and legs carved with intricate symbols, the most prominent being a great winged bird with sharp talons in the center. This was the great Aizen-sama, overlord of the city’s most powerful crime syndicate. His name alone was enough to strike fear into most men.

But the young man to whom he spoke was unperturbed by his imposing presence. After five years under Aizen’s service, including the past two spent as his right-hand man, Ulquiorra Schiffer was used to it all: the guards, the formalities, the aura of power. He was at ease, awaiting what was to come next.

“Anything you wish of me,” Ulquiorra replied smoothly, giving a small deferential bow. His voice was much softer than Aizen’s, but more like steel than silk, imposing in its own way. Ulquiorra was Aizen’s undisputed favorite among the syndicate members, and everyone knew it, including Ulquiorra himself. He was much younger than Aizen, almost young enough to be his son, but he made up for that youth with cunning and dedication. He had risen in the ranks in just a few short years, and he was universally respected within the syndicate.

He wore the simple black suit worn by most members, and yet his appearance was immediately striking. Perhaps it was the shocking contrast of his raven hair with his nearly opaque skin, or his large eyes, impossibly green, and hard to read.

Ulquiorra stood, waiting patiently for instructions, and Aizen carefully pulled a photograph out of a desk drawer. He beckoned Ulquiorra closer and handed it to him. The photo showed a beautiful young woman, delicate and fair, with orange hair flowing down her back. She smiled out of the photograph, blushing self consciously. Ulquiorra noticed silently that the expression suited her, giving her cheeks a flattering glow. But he made no comment, and waited silently for clarification.

“This is my daughter, Orihime.”

Ulquiorra searched his memories. He had never met this girl, but he had heard the other men talk about Aizen’s beautiful daughter. While they talked wistfully of her, it was silently understood that she was off limits to all, under the harshest of penalties.

“Your assignment is to look after her. I want you with her 24 hours a day, prepared for anything. Our…disagreement… with Yamamoto has been escalating recently, and I wouldn’t put it past those dogs to stoop to kidnapping or worse.” He looked intensely angry for a moment, and his fists clenched involuntarily. But when he turned his eyes back to Ulquiorra he was in control once again.

“As my most loyal member, I am trusting you with my most prized possession. I do not need to tell you how important this task is. What do you say?”

They both knew it wasn’t really a question. There was no possibility of turning it down, but Aizen hated to give Ulquiorra simple orders like he was just another rank and file member. Ulquiorra looked back at the picture for a moment, then up at Aizen’s placid face. It was not the most exciting or agreeable task, but he had to admit, this showed a great amount of faith and trust in him. It was an honor he could not refuse.

“You have my word, I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.” At Aizen’s satisfied smile he bowed again and turned to leave the grand office, when Aizen’s voice stopped him short.

“One last thing—as you’ve probably heard, my daughter is not allowed to associate with any of the members. I do not want them getting close to her. Understand?”

Ulquiorra bowed his assent once again, and exited through the great oak doors as they were opened for him by two more anonymous guards.

*********************************

Aizen sent him instructions later that evening, telling him to report to Orihime’s apartment in the morning, where he would relieve the regular bodyguard. He now walked towards the address he had memorized, along one of the city’s main streets. It was a clear day, yet even in the sunlight the city still appeared gloomy. It was always this way now, full of trash and decay. Most residents had left long ago, when the syndicates took over and life got tough. They left behind apartments, now dilapidated and uninhabited, piles of trash rotting in the streets, cars rusting where they sat. Only a few buildings remained in habitable shape, and those belonged to the overlords and their crews.

The building Ulquiorra stopped in front of was one such building. It still looked fairly new among the others crumbling at its sides. It was a high rise, with floor upon floor of large windows and balconies. Not a bad place to live, he thought.

Outside the door of the specified apartment he found another nondescript bodyguard. The guard recognized Ulquiorra quickly, and stepped aside courteously. Ulquiorra informed him that he was relieved of his duty, and watched him round the corner before he knocked on the door. He heard rustling on the other side, folowed by quick light foot steps. The door opened a crack, and a sleep-filled face peeked out apprehensively. When the girl’s gaze settled on Ulquiorra she nearly jumped with surprise, but quickly caught herself. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she opened the door wide, and glanced Ulquiorra over quizzically. Her fascination and lack of propriety annoyed him slightly, and he cleared his throat pointedly.

“Your father sent me to keep guard over you for the time being. My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer.”

The girl’s quizzical look changed to a smile of understanding.

“My father told me all about you. I just forgot that you were coming today. My name is Orihime.”

She held out her hand to him with a warm smile. He looked at it warily and decided on a deferential bow instead. It was best not to get too friendly. Orihime gave a small sigh, as if disappointed, and turned back into the apartment, motioning for Ulquiorra to follow her.

He entered and shut the door behind him, but stayed standing in the doorway, surveying the apartment. It was lavishly furnished, with a leather couch and chairs facing the massive windows, which looked out over the ruins of the city and the polluted river to the east. All around were gilded decorations and trinkets, no doubt gifts from her father.

Orihime disappeared into the kitchen, and when she returned a few minutes later and found him still in the doorway she gave a small start.

“Um, Ulquiorra-san, you can sit on the sofa if you’d like. I’m making tea for us, would you like anything to eat?”
“No” he replied stiffly, but added a quiet “thank you” when he saw her disheartened look.

Reluctantly, he moved to the sofa and sat stiffly on the edge. He looked around the apartment, taking stock of everything for future reference. Orihime returned with a tray of tea, and sat down in a chair opposite Ulquiorra, placing the tray on a coffee table between them. She poured him a cup and handed it to him, but aside from his thanks, he was silent.

His silence made Orihime a little uncomfortable. She had always been surrounded by serious, silent bodyguards, but most of them would exchange at least a kind word or two with her. She won them all over instantly. But this man sat and looked so deep in thought that she dared not disturb him. He was much younger than her other guards, almost her own age, which added to her awkwardness. She didn’t spend much time with people her own age. In fact, she didn’t spend much time with anyone. Here was a man she had heard so much about that she felt she knew him already, yet she could not bring herself to even chat with him.

He noticed her discomfort and spoke briefly, to put her at ease about what was going on.

“I am to keep watch on you 24 hours a day, for as long as is necessary. You shouldn’t worry, there is no real threat to you, this is just a precaution. You will still be allowed to go about your daily life, but you will not be allowed to leave my supervision.”

Orihime nearly scoffed at his words. What daily life? She was not allowed out often, and even if she was, there was nowhere to go. Sometimes she visited her father’s headquarters, but he did not like for her to stay long, or to associate with the members there. She was virtually a prisoner in her own home, and here was her new dungeon guard, completely unaware of the situation. But Orihime did see one bright point: if they were to be together all the time from now on, they would grow accustomed to each other soon enough, and then perhaps she would have someone to talk to and enjoy herself with. Ulquiorra seemed cold and gruff at first glance, but a small glimmer in his eye told Orihime she may be able to win him over.

For his part, Ulquiorra was wondering just what he had gotten himself into, sitting here having tea with this admittedly beautiful girl, who also happened to be completely off limits. If he was to be around her all the time, the only way to keep his distance would be to put up his strongest wall around himself. He was well practiced at keeping others out, and he quickly assured himself that this would be no different.

Then again, it was only day one.

-End Chapter One-

Daydreams

2008-01-03T23:24:05Z

Originally posted in ren_x_ichi on January 1, 2008.

Title: Daydreams
Rating: barely PG-13, but just to be on the safe side
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo
Warnings: nothing, really, except some sappiness.
Word count: 400

Few people would guess it by looking at him, but Kurosaki Ichigo was something of a daydreamer. In his rare peaceful moments, between fighting and training and caring for others, he would let his mind wander. Some of his daydreams were those of a typical teenager: he thought about his friends, and the good times they had together. He wondered about his future, and where he would go after high school.

But some of his daydreams were darker. He wondered what his life would be like now if he had never met Rukia, or uncovered his shinigami powers. Would he be happier without these added responsibilities? And sometimes, when he was in a certain mood, he dreamt about his mother. Those dreams gave him pain, but also comfort.

Abarai Renji was also a bit of a daydreamer. After his lieutenant duties were complete, or his hollow patrol finished, he would find a quiet place and let the thoughts come to him.
Many of his daydreams centered on foods he craved, or times spent drinking and carousing with his shinigami friends. Sometimes he relived battles he had fought and lessons he had learned. Often he dreamt of the day he would become a captain, and what lay in his interminable future.

In his darker moods he wondered why he was not stronger, or if he really had the strength of will to surpass Kuchiki Byakuya. And sometimes, when he was in a certain mood, he would remember his childhood in Rukongai, and the friends he had lost. Even after centuries, their memories brought pain, but Renji would never allow himself to forget.

Both men were daydreamers. But when they were together there was no room for any of those thoughts. All they could comprehend was each other, the combined warmth of their bodies, the smell of the other’s skin. In those moments, no other dreams mattered, because they had everything they needed.

Still, in the quiet moments when Ichigo lay sleeping, Renji couldn’t help but dream of their future together. He knew there were obvious obstacles to their relationship, but he dreamt up ways around every single one. After all of his centuries spent daydreaming on his own, he had finally found someone who shared those dreams, who understood his thoughts and feelings; someone who surpassed his every dream of a friend and lover.

Now, the only dream left was never letting go.

-END-

The Weight of the World

2008-01-03T23:20:03Z

originally posted in ren_x_ichion Dec 1, 2007.

Title: The Weight of the World
Pairing: Ichigo/Renji
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: angst, boys kissing, maybe light swearing
Spoilers: None, really. It takes place maybe a year or so after the current arc, but not much reference to it here.
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach in any way, shape or form, etc.

"For the burden of life is love,
but we carry the weight wearily,
and so must rest in the arms of love at last."
- Allen Ginsberg, "Song"

Since the day Rukia had shown up and lent him her Shinigami powers, it felt like the weight of the world had been resting on the young shoulders of Kurosaki Ichigo.

It had started with a wish to protect his family. But as his family of friends had grown, so had his responsibilities, and he had needed to make himself continually stronger. When Soul Society needed him he had taken on that responsibility as well, becoming the indestructible savior who would protect them all. The war had been hard on Ichigo, proving that he couldn’t handle this burden all on his own. But his friends had helped him through it. And one friend in particular had become especially close to him, as they shared the horrors and triumphs of battle together. Ichigo didn’t know what he would have done without Abarai Renji by his side.

But their experiences together, both in the war and in its aftermath, had begun to make him feel differently about his ally. He respected and admired Renji, even if he didn’t always show it. But then other feelings had begun to seep into his consciousness. He started to miss Renji when he was away in Soul Society for more than a week or two at a time. He realized he was more comfortable and relaxed when Renji was around. He even found enjoyment in their silly bickering. The realization of love had snuck up on him and washed over him slowly, but there was no denying it, even to himself.

Renji was around more often now. Since the war had ended he had requested to be put on patrol on the living world. He had to check in with Soul Society every now and then, and he still had vice captain duties to fulfill there. But between his duties and Ichigo’s own work with his father in the family clinic, the two had begun to spend much of their free time together. Ichigo was glad for Renji’s company. It soothed him and took his mind off his other worries.

But more and more he began to feel the strain of wanting what he couldn’t have. The weight of protecting the whole world seemed trivial now compared to the burden of his feelings, and all of the implications and uncertainties that went with them. This is what had finally worn down the great warrior. His other burdens could be dealt with through strength of will and body. He could fight through it with his power and promises and never ending battles. He could even deal with the guilt and sorrow born of those actions.

But what he could not bear was this uncertainty and self doubt and endless loneliness. Love? Ichigo began to scoff at the word. No, this had become agony. But there seemed nothing he could do but move forward silently, resolutely, without letting Renji catch on. After all, self denial had always been part of his responsibilities, and he would rather torture himself than let a friend be hurt. Renji would think he was a creep, a pervert. And even if he didn’t abandon him altogether, the closeness and comfort they felt together would be shattered.

Ichigo began to withdraw from Renji slowly and almost imperceptibly. When Renji would ask him to hang out he would occasionally turn him down, claiming he had work to do in the clinic, or plans with other friends. He began to go out on hollow patrol alone, reasoning that they could cover more ground separately. When they were together he was careful to maintain his physical distance, to avoid casual or accidental touching. He was trying to set boundaries for himself without alarming Renji. It hurt him, but so far it seemed to be successful.

Renji started to notice the difference eventually. After all, he was much older than Ichigo. He had seen friends come and go, and he was familiar with the signs of withdrawal. He wasn’t sure what Ichigo meant by it, but he was determined not to let it go any further. Ichigo was one of his closest friends, and, if he would admit it to himself, he needed Ichigo just as much as the kid needed him.

So, on an evening when Ichigo had turned him down yet again, Renji took matters into his own hands. When he knocked on the window, as was his custom, Ichigo was lying flat on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Renji noticed the tired, strained expression on his face. But as soon as he saw Renji it was quickly masked with surprise and mock annoyance. When he opened the window Renji stepped down into the familiar bedroom.

“Hey, I thought you said you were busy tonight?” Renji teased. He thought he caught the faintest hint of a blush creep into Ichigo’s cheeks, but it quickly faded.

“Uh, I was just tired, is all,” Ichigo answered, rubbing the back of his neck and stretching.

“Well there’s no time for that, because I brought…sake!” He held up two bottles he had managed to swipe from Urahara. He knew Ichigo wasn’t a huge fan of drinking, but a little usually lightened him up, and he certainly looked like he could use it tonight.

“Nah, Renj, I’m not really in the mood to drink right now.” The worry was returning to his face.

“Well, you can keep me company then.”

The two sat down on the floor and Renji opened a bottle for himself. Ichigo took a few sips now and then, but refused more. Renji drank leisurely as they chatted, like usual. Renji updated him on his last trip to Soul Society. Several people had asked him to bring Ichigo their greetings, including, of course, Rukia, who couldn’t make it to the living world very often these days. Ichigo smiled at this, but at the mention of Soul Society he had begun to sink slowly back into the melancholy Renji had noticed when he arrived. Something was definitely wrong today.

“Hey, is something bothering you? You don’t look like yourself today.” The question caused Ichigo to scowl slightly.

“I’m fine, I just have some stuff on my mind, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right? Let me help.” Renji placed a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort and reassurance, but he felt the other man shudder beneath the touch. He removed the hand, looking Ichigo over more closely now. Something was definitely bothering him, but what? He knew Ichigo was tough and liked to keep his problems to himself, but he had begun to open up to Renji about his feelings of responsibility and failure and insecurity. As one warrior to another, Renji had been able to sympathize. But this had to be something different.

“Ichigo…” he began slowly. Ichigo looked up at him with a mixture of sadness and angry determination written on his face.

“Look, I know you worry about me, but there are some things you just can’t help me with, ok?” His voice had taken on an angry edge. He looked away again, and took the sake bottle from Renji, taking a long sip. Renji let him brood in silence for a few minutes, unsure of what he could do for him.

He moved a little closer to the younger boy, who was looking away pointedly. Renji put a hand on his arm to get his attention. When Ichigo looked up again Renji was shocked. The fierce man he knew was gone, replaced by a vulnerable boy, close to breaking.

“Don’t,” Ichigo said sternly. But instead of letting go Renji grabbed his other arm as well, turning him so they faced one another.

“Whatever it is, it’s my problem too. We’re friends, that’s how it works. Now stop being so stubborn.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t leave it alone, even for your own good, even if it will ruin everything! If you want to know so bad—“

Ichigo broke off his own sentence by leaning forward and fiercely crushing his lips against the redhead’s. Renji was surprised for a moment, expecting a punch rather than this. But he could feel the fear and frustration in Ichigo’s kiss, and moved his hands to his shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing him into himself. He let Ichigo’s franticness wear itself out, matching it with his own tenderness and comforting stability. When the anger had drained from Ichigo he pulled away, looking at Renji with a mix of shock and fear. He couldn’t believe he had just done that, the thing he had thought about so many times, but had sworn never to do. He waited for Renji to push him away, to call him names, to storm out. But Renji just smiled and continued to hold him close.

“So that’s what’s been bugging you? I told you, you can share your burdens with me, all of them. That’s why I’m here, Ichi.”

Ichigo looked up at him, clearly surprised.

“You mean…you don’t…hate me?”

“Well, I’m a little annoyed that you didn’t speak up sooner, but no, I couldn’t hate you.” He chuckled softly, and Ichigo could feel the vibrations in his own chest.

“But, I never thought…” Ichigo was too overwhelmed to finish the thought.

“Yeah, well, you never asked. And I wasn’t about to go adding to your problems. But don’t worry about that now. Come here.”

Renji put a hand on Ichigo’s chin, tilting his mouth to meet his own again, this time in a much softer kiss, a kiss that conveyed affection and appreciation. When their lips broke apart once again he pulled Ichigo close, letting him rest his forehead on his shoulder. For the first time in months, maybe years, Ichigo allowed his whole body to relax, calmed by the feel of Renji’s fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, and the warm smell of the other’s body.

Ichigo knew things would be ok now. Not perfect; they never would be. But with Renji to support him he could continue to hold up the rest of the world.

-END-

First Snowfall

2008-01-03T23:17:59Z

My first fic!
originally posted in ren_x_ichi on November 27, 2007.

Title: First Snowfall
Pairing: no real pairing, but involving Renji and Ichigo
Rating: PG
Warning: probably pretty OOC, but thats about it. maybe light swearing.
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach in any way, shape or form, etc.
Summary: Renji experiences his first snowfall

Renji and Ichigo were walking along the riverbank in their shinigami forms, having just defeated several small hollows. The exercise in the brisk winter air had made their bodies feel awake and alert, ready for the next round. But there was nothing now except the silent darkness of the oncoming evening.

As they walked together they fell into a comfortable, thoughtful silence. Ichigo, as usual, was lost in his own thoughts, brows knitted together lightly. After several blocks had passed in this silence Renji became restless. His body was ready to go, and he wanted to pick a quarrel with Ichigo, maybe coax him into a little sparring. He casually glanced sideways at the shorter boy, watching his expressions and calculating the best way to annoy the kid. Finally, he could contain himself no longer.

“Oi, what’s with that stupid look on your face, Ichii?” he teased, grinning slyly.

The orange haired boy looked up at the sound of Renji’s voice. He’d been so lost in thought he had forgotten he was even there. He came to a stop and stared at Renji blankly for a moment, processing the remark, before his scowl returned.

“I keep telling you, don’t call me –“

But he stopped short when he saw the look on the other man’s face. Renji’s eyes were wide and his mouth agape, as he stared at the air above Ichigo’s head.
Ichigo’s brows knitted in confusion, and he was about to punch some sense into the idiot when he noticed it too.

All around them tiny white snowflakes had begun to fall, settling on their black robes and standing out in stark contrast. The grass all around them was quickly being coated, as well as both men’s brightly colored hair.

Renji lifted his sleeve to his face, closely inspecting the rapidly accumulating specks. He sniffed at them, then reached out a finger to poke at them, his curiosity and bewilderment only growing.

Ichigo watched Renji with amusement, and before he could stop himself a short chuckle escaped him. The look of childish wonder on the face of the tough, tattooed shinigami vice captain was just too much. He quickly suppressed his laughter, but he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

Renji looked up, as if startled out of a daydream. He turned his wide eyes on Ichigo.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, in a voice that was somewhere between excitement and fear. After all, it didn’t look dangerous, but it could be some diabolical new trap cooked up by Aizen.

“Ya stupid idiot, it’s snow!” Ichigo yelled. Renji noted that there was no anger in his yell or heat behind his insult. In fact, the kid looked downright happy. Now that was a change. If Ichigo was relaxed they couldn’t be in danger. Renji relaxed too, but he was still curious.

“Don’t call me an idiot, ya jerk. How am I supposed to know about this kinda stuff? It’s not like we have anything like this in Soul Society. So what is it?”

For once Ichigo didn’t even notice the insult. He thought for a moment before answering.

“It’s just frozen water. It falls from the sky when it gets cold outside. Completely harmless, so you can calm your ass down.”

Renji continued to stare into the sky, transfixed, then began to move around, testing how it felt under his feet and on his skin. He tilted back his head to let it fall on his face.

This motion reminded Ichigo of how he and his sisters used to catch snowflakes on their tongues as kids. This was a game he thought Renji would enjoy, given his love of anything edible.

“Hey, Renji…you can eat snow, ya know” he offered slyly.

That caught Renji’s attention.
“Eat it? How?” he asked, not bothering to hide his eagerness.

Ichigo showed Renji how to lean his head back and stick out his tongue to collect the falling snowflakes. Renji eagerly imitated the action, watching Ichigo from the corner of his eye to make sure he was doing it right and that this wasn’t just some trick to make him look stupid.

After catching a few flakes Renji closed his mouth and swallowed. He frowned, obviously dissatisfied with the results.

“It doesn’t taste like anything” he complained.

“It’s just water, idiot, it’s not real food.”

Renji continued to look disappointed. He thought he had found a free unlimited food source, but it was too good to be true. Ichigo halfheartedly punched him on the shoulder, catching his expression.

“Come on, idiot, I’ll make us some real food.”

Renji perked up immediately. It wasn’t often that Ichigo offered to do him favors without being begged.
As Ichigo turned to set off Renji suddenly let out a small chuckle of his own.

“What is it?” Ichigo turned around, curious.

Renji walked over to him and reached a hand up, brushing some of the snow from his hair.

“Frosting on the strawberry,” he grinned. And he wasn’t surprised at all when a fist connected with his side and Ichigo huffed away.

Even if that had cost him a free dinner, it had been too good to pass up.
As Renji set off after Ichigo he thought to himself that he kinda liked this snow stuff. It was just one more thing to like about the living world.

-END-