AN: Hey everyone, these are two Bleach fictions: the first one starring Renji, Rukia, and Byakuya, the second one Yoruichi, Rangiku, and Kisuke. The story behind all this is that these are actually fics that I started over half a year ago and never finished due to time constraints and school, and in all honesty, I don't know where in the world I was going with them. Or I simply can't remember. So, if any of you want to give it a go and finish 'em that would be awesome, just send me a note so I can enjoy what you did. If you just want to read, that's cool too. But anyways. If that's not allowed or something, I'm sorry in advance. I honestly don't know.
Read on:
Hazy tendrils of smoke rose into the night sky, before curling in on themselves and fading. A lone figure leaned against the pillar of a verandah, and lifted the cigarette to his mouth, taking in a long drawn out breath before releasing it again in a French inhale. The light from the ashes lit up his face in an eerie glow, making it almost appear as if his eyes were glowing a deep, blood red.
"Why do you do that, Renji?" someone asked from behind him. He jumped at the noise, but relaxed again as his brain recognized the voice.
"There was a time, when I would have been able to hear you from inside," he said, avoiding the question. He took another drag on the cigarette. Rukia stepped into view, standing next to him and gazing at the moonlit garden in front of her. She glanced up at the man next to her, and frowned.
"We're not part of that world anymore, Renji. You still haven't answered the question, either."
He glanced down at the downward curve of her lip, the slight crinkle of a regal brow, and the straight way she held herself. With a snort he blew another gust of smoke that coiled like a fanged snake around the image of the moon, before dispersing. Rukia watched it disappear with a sinking heart. That really was all the answer she needed.
After a pause, he answered, "It's a guilty pleasure; it tends to be appropriately bittersweet."
"'Tends? Appropriately? When did you start using such big vocabulary, Renji?" she quipped with a smirk that had a tang of resentment in it.
Smiling softly at her, Renji answered, "When you started bringing me to these high-end, fancy clan gatherings."
Rukia smiled and stepped back to appraise him, with a raised eyebrow, "Well I have to say, you do clean up well. The tattoos just add a little spice to the whole ensemble."
She looked him up and down, examining the deep blue, formal kimono he wore, and admired the way Rangiku and Yumichika had tamed his wild red hair into a loose French braid with the bangs hanging over his eyes.
She leaned close and burrowed her face into his shoulder, and after a moment mumbled, "Thanks for coming, it's easier having someone there with me. After having to endure these for forty years straight I'd thought I'd go mad. Ichigo usually manages to sneak in, but he had to stay in the Living World because of family stuff. It means a lot that you managed to come in such a short notice."
Renji flipped the burnt out cigarette into the flowerbed before wrapping his arms around her thin frame.
"I know," he sighed, "it's why I came."
He grimaced as Rukia giggled, and glared at the top of her dark head, "Great to see you picked up a sense of humor while you were on mission." She just smiled and rubbed her face into the folds of his clothes, taking in the smell of leather, smoke, and gunpowder that couldn't be smothered with the layers of rich scents that he had tried to hide himself in.
"How's Ichigo treatin' ya, by the way?" he asked suddenly, slipping into the grinding Inuzuri accent. She considered the question, and reflected on the state of things in Karakura. The friends that she was helping recover from the scars and open wounds of the Winter War, from the tragedy that had become the crushed quarter of the town. There had been people, friends and family that had perished beneath the weight of the falling buildings and the world around them. She helped with the healing process, volunteering with clearing the rubble and rebuilding collapsed lives even as she avoided that same task in her own home world. At least there, what she did was appreciated and did not carry the burden of aristocracy. There, she silently witnessed the grief of Orihime, there she and the Kurosaki family worked together to tend to the wounded, there she did not have to meet her brother's face.
"Fine. Like a princess," she replied in a low voice.
Renji scowled good-naturedly, "Oh, like they don't do that here," he taunted.
Not even moving her face from his shoulder, she punched lightly him in the arm. He chuckled and drew her in tighter.
"Ichigo's not a puppy dog," her muffled voice said after a moment. She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth, but felt justified in saying them.
His face darkened, "Well, I'm the goddamn definition of a dog. Hell, I'm not even a puppy, I'm a stray."
"No," she smiled sadly, "You're not a stray, you've never been one. You've always had someone to protect, and someone to hold your back. I wish you'd realize that."
Renji just sighed and patted her on the head. He was too tired to argue. Rukia made a face before she laughed softly and turned her face up to look up at him.
"You know, I think Nii-sama was actually pleased to see you here today," She smirked. His head jerked down to give her an incredulous look.
"I think it's official. Your time with the Kurosaki family and prolonged exposure to the Living World has made you delusional," he informed her. He gave a chuckle when she reached up to smack him outside of the head.
She huffed, puffing out her cheeks, "See, this is what I'm talking about. You never, never give yourself enough credit. You are always putting yourself down, comparing yourself to people who have centuries of experience on you, to me, to my brother. This is what I mean when I say you're like a goddamn puppy dog. You have amazing potential and ability. People call you dumb, and you let them, forgetting that not only did you graduate from the Academy, you were a member of the advanced class, of the elite. You became a fukataicho in an amazing amount of time, the only lieutenant who has ever achieved bankai, and the youngest." Renji tried to reply, but Rukia made a noise that clearly said to shut up and listen.
"Son of a bitch, Renji, sometimes it looks like you could own the world if you wanted to. There's also the fact that nearly everyone likes you, or has a certain amount of respect for you, but you blow it off and try to prove yourself to a concept that you've built up in your head, that only you believe in. At least Ichigo has the self-respect to be honest with himself and to improve despite that."
The silence stretched from the stars and back like a sigh. Rukia scowled inwardly as she tried to keep her calm, waiting for Renji to reply.
Renji wasn't looking at her anymore. He gazed out the moonlit garden with a guarded expression, his eyes taking on the hooded look that they always did when he was containing the storm of emotions that made up who he was. Hard, and distant, yet entirely focused.
"'Light a fire upon the fang that falls short, so I needn't see that distant star, so that I need not tear out this throat of mine,'" he spoke softly, but with piercing clarity.
Rukia took two steps back, furious, cocked an arm back before shooting out a fist with alarming speed and force. She hit Renji squarely in the jaw, making him stagger back against the shoji doors. He tentatively touched where she had hit him, watching as she snorted through her nose.
"You are so. Fucking. Stubborn," she growled with a faint tremor betraying her emotions, "The man who survived the hell of Inuzuri with me is not weak; the man who gave his life for mine, is not pathetic; the man who fought through the barren deserts of Heuco Mundo and the whole of Las Noches, is not stupid. The man who not only resisted the direct orders of his superior, but the man he respected and feared more than anything else, is not a coward. The man who was able to forgive that same man who cut him down and build a companionship with him, is not heartless."
Renji looked on as she spoke, a faint smile on his lips as she waited for her to finish. She stood there panting, and tried to step back with a snarl as Renji stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He tightened his hold around her pint-sized form as she fisted her hands in the front of his kimono. He didn't say a thing, just continued to smile apologetically, his eyes closed, until she stopped shaking from the adrenaline running through her veins.
"I still wanna kick you in the balls," she mumbled into his chest.
He gave a short guffaw, "I'm sure you do."
"Monkey."
"Midget."
"Horn-dog."
Renji twitched an eyebrow and slung Rukia into a headlock, making her shriek and laugh as he gave her a noogie. Their giggles and snorts rang down the hallway and they didn't notice when another shoji door opened, spilling golden light from inside across the garden before it was quietly closed again.
"Abarai. Rukia."
They stopped with a jolt, separating as Byakuya stepped into view. Renji ducked his head in deference, "Taicho." Rukia bowed low, not meeting the man's eyes as she muttered a polite greeting.
Renji hesitantly met the Byakuya's eyes. They seemed to glow in the dim light as the moon's rays struck them. Everything about him seemed as calculated as he ever was, but there was a calm serenity that would have been easily displaced by anyone other than Renji. He swore he even saw a barely-there smile.
"Am I interrupting something?" Byakuya asked quietly.
"Not at all, sir," Renji answered, "Rukia and I were just having a discussion."
"I see. Thank you for coming, I am sure Rukia appreciates it," Byakuya seemed to hesitate, "and I do as well."
Rukia gave a subtle cough before elbowing Renji in the ribs. Byakuya raised a slight eyebrow as Renji flushed and stepped back to crunch a delicate foot. Rukia choked on a laugh, cleverly turning it into another cough.
"Are you quite alright, Rukia?" Byakuya asked in false concern.
"I am fine, Nii-sama, thank you," she replied with a small grin.
Renji took that moment to bow to Byakuya again, "It was an honor, Taicho. Thank you."
Byakya nodded. Turning, he slid open the shoji
AN: Just a note, I ship Byakuya and Renji, (don't lie, you can see the blatant sexual tension between them, too) and that was what I had originally intended for this story, so if you are going to continue this, that would be awesome, just remember that that was where I was going with this. If you could respect that, that would be awesome. If not, ignore me; I'm a blithering idiot.
Yoruichi slinked along, black paws silent as she navigated the concrete maze of Karakura's streets. Heavy rain fell from a black sky, the curtains of the clouds hiding any and all starlight that might have cut through the light pollution to shine. Cars passed her in the streets, the sound of their engines a loud purr against the splash and gurgle of running water.
Passing apartment complexes, Yoruichi had to marvel at the latent power of Karakura. The very stones hummed with energy and even senseless, uncomprehending humans were drawn to this location, building their lives upon its foundations. She passed lit windows and passerby scurrying along under umbrellas in attempts to get home to their families and warm light. She had to wonder if she and her fellow shinigami were the cause, their reitsu permeating the very atmosphere, or if they too had been drawn like beasts to a fire.
So many had come to this town, to live, to escape, and to exploit. She and Urahara were prime examples of that, coming to this place of all places when he had been banished. Urahara the creator of the Hogyoku and she, the Shihoin clan leader. Ishin had followed them not too soon after for his own reasons and managed to create a family for himself. Of course, his children were born with his own abilities and were further saturated in the presence of this town. It was no surprise Ichigo was nearly a god. In all honesty, she asked herself, could he have become anything else?
Then of course, there was Aizen and Rukia. Yoruichi always felt a sense of guilt and heartbreak when thinking of that girl. Rukia, the harbinger, their dear little catalyst. That girl did not deserve the fate, however necessary it might have been, that had been doled out to her. Her birth and abandonment in Inuzuri, before Kuchiki Byakuya, the husband of the same sister who had abandoned her, adopted her after his wife's death. She had been thrust into a world that Yoruichi knew well, the world of aristocracy and lies. She had traded in one cesspit for another when she had been trying to find a place to call home. Then of course, there was the death of Kaien, her blade through his chest, saving him from the despair of his dead wife, one piece of the cascading torrent of events that had changed so much and almost nothing at all.
Rukia. Rukia who had been sent to this place after Kaien's death, only to be drawn to Ichigo, where suddenly the downpour had become a storm and the tears had fallen like rain. She had been and still was the instrument of destiny, her planned execution, giving rise to the progression of Ichigo's powers. She had become the yin to that boy's yang and together they had changed the minds and souls of two entire worlds, and had protected thousands of those that lived here in this one.
All of us playing in the same fixed setting, yet changed beyond the point of reconciliation, thought Yorouichi, Ichigo will forever be haunted by the ghost of his own subconscious. I don't want to even contemplate Aizen and his place in all of this. I don't think I have the mental capacity.
Suddenly, she let out a surprised yowl as a car shot by, water splashing onto her and the curb. She stood frozen as the water dripped off her fur in great beads.
And I had been doing such a good job of staying mostly dry, she thought disparagingly. Giving herself a discreet shake, she looked around to get her bearings and find out where she was. She felt a little jolt when she noticed that she had passed right by the Shoten by four houses.
Jeeze, just how out of it am I? she mused as she quickly retraced her steps and turned to Urahara's little shop. She crept up to the porch and glanced up to the "closed" sign that hung from the door. She gave an indiscernible huff, figuring that she would have to go around back if she wanted to get in. Kisuke had probably locked up the front. She didn't want to take the risk of someone seeing her shift forms to unlock the door when it seemed that he and the rest of the bunch had moved to the back of the shop anyway. She gracefully leapt off the wooden structure as she headed to the rear.
She came to a halt when she noticed a motionless lump in front of the shoji door. She seamlessly flowed from cat to human and stood in front of the person, taking in blonde hair and wet clothes.
Isn't this…the tenth division fuka-taicho? she asked herself, what in the world is she doing here?
"Hey," she prodded the still form with a toe, "Whatcha doing here kid?"
The woman jumped, her head shooting up in surprise at the sudden sound and prodding. She gave a closemouthed gasp as she recognized Yoruichi, and quickly bowed her head in deference.
"I humbly apologize. I am not supposed to be here. I am Matsumoto Rangiku, fuka-taicho of the tenth division," she spoke quickly.
Yoruichi cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head, "Kiddo, I know that already, what in the three worlds are you doing here?"
The woman, girl, did not answer for a moment before she turned her eyes to look out at the rain. Yoruichi noticed that they were rimmed in red, and bags sagged under heavy lashes.
"I…I had heard from a colleague, from Rukia, that this was a safe place when one needed to…get away and think about some things," she finally muttered softly.
Yoruichi sighed with a whoosh, and tilted her head back on her shoulders, her eyes closed in thought.
"You drop a coin into the sea and shout out 'Please come back to me'
You name your kid after your fear and tell them 'I have brought you here'
The scary part, the aftershock, the moment it takes to fall apart
The time you have, the task at hand, the love it takes to destroy a man
The ecstasy, the being free, the big black cloud over you and me
And after that, the upwards fall
Were we angels after all?" –(Stars, The Night Starts Here)
AN: This one, I dunno. I was gonna have it so that Yoruichi takes Rangiku in for the night, realizing that they are not so far apart. Yoruichi being a cat shifter and Rangiku's Ash Cat, the fact that they both fell in love with shadow-eyed men with twisted grins, who both betrayed Soul Society in it's own interests. I can't remember where I was gonna go from there, so anyways. Hope you enjoyed?