1.The Consequences
1.1
Hisagi Shuuhei had given himself twenty minutes to stop moping. Then he would get up, go home, and sleep it off. Nothing more. He could do it. He was neither in love with a traitor, nor in coma and in love with a traitor. His captain, or should he say his ex-captain, was a professional who left nothing funny to detonate in his stupid head. He should take it as a gift and be grateful. And with some luck, the glorious bullshit about the path of justice would stop bugging him. Eventually.
It was a mistake to be here, trying to drink himself senseless in the pitiful company of Kira who couldn't stop wallowing in his guilt, and Matsumoto, exuberant to a fault. That was before they passed out leaving him alone with his uneasy thoughts. He should have taken Iba's offer instead, Iba's presence never made things worse.
Captain Hitsugaya's reiatsu filled the room interrupting his pathetic inner monologue. Strange, but right now Shuuhei expected him to be in the Fourth, holding the hand of comatose Hinamori. Instead, Hitsugaya kneeled next to Matsumoto and sighed quite audibly. Shuuhei guessed it was time for another scolding. He guessed wrong.
"Taichou..." She uttered a few sobs. "I've been missing you..."
"Stupid," Hitsugaya whispered with matching tenderness. Big news. Huge. Matsumoto was not in love with Ichimaru like everyone traditionally assumed. She still cared, that was obvious, but from the distance.
"Hisagi-fukutaichou."
Frozen in Hitsugaya's voice, was a sure promise to unleash Hyourinmaru, if Shuuhei ever felt like talking too much. At the same time, the bragging notes were just as strong as threatening ones. The secret was out, and making someone jealous was the least Hitsugaya could do. Naturally, trapped in a kid's body, Shuuhei would probably be pissed all the time as well. Perhaps later Hitsugaya might even have his sympathies, but for the time being Shuuhei couldn't ignore either of the messages. It was just another annoying power game and Hitsugaya believed Matsumoto was a trump card. This time the game was easy, all he had to do was to open his eyes, sit up, and say something. Anything.
"Hitsugaya-taichou?" he returned with genuine apathy.
Watching Hitsugaya picking up his plastered and giggling trophy, a weightless feather she'd never been, and leaving, Shuuhei peered inside himself again. His first reaction was true, he couldn't find a single trace of jealousy. That brought him back to the topic he'd been carefully avoiding for the last three days. His handy and very much socially acceptable – just don't tell Shiro-chan – crush on Matsumoto got erased magically like it was never present. And he could no longer ignore the hard reasons suggesting the crush replacement.
Could it get any worse?
He stood up and looked at sleeping Kira. "We'll be all right too," he said, accepting they were far from it.
It turned out Kira was awake. "You know, I figured it all. If only people could leave me alone for a few weeks... I don't think I can stomach this being in the same boat sort of understanding. You know…"
Shed the reminders first, right?
He knew, but so what? They had to survive somehow, dig up a hole, hide there, and wait for the storm to pass. He appreciated Kira's honesty. Tried to. Failed.
"I see."
1.2
Waiting for his mind to return, Yumichika was desperately shifting between random subjects unable to hold on to any, but his weird encounter with Hisagi Shuuhei. And weird wouldn't even begin to describe it. Needless to mention he could have gotten that overconfident prick using nothing more but old and dirty Zaraki signature style attacks, or at least could have held him off indefinitely. The key word was dirty. The dumpster had been still fresh and stinky on his mind, so he went for real shikai and had no regrets about it. What regrets? Fujikujaku marvelously erased Hisagi's aplomb. Literally licked it up, all of it. How many times? Why would he count? Yumichika had to change afterwards, but that outcome was almost expected. Expected midway doesn't count as expected, does it? What else could he expect from sex? Now, why did it turn to sex? Because it was? Could he squeeze in the consensual clause too? Consensual midway doesn't count as... Even if he did better than midway. Much better.
It. Was. Not. Sex. Period.
"That schedule you're trying to work on, Yumichika, must be really something special. But if you crush the cup you're clenching now, I'd hate it. Was a gift, you know."
"Ah?" Yumichika twitched. The cup was safe, but the paperwork wasn't. At least it wasn't hot. What wasn't?
When he finally focused, Ikkaku explained, "You've been panting."
"What?" Yumichika promptly forgot all about the spilled water. "For how long?"
Ikkaku flipped through his own reports, "Three pages. And a half."
"Shit."
Talking to Ikkaku grounded Yumichika just enough to let him finally sort the mess in his head. That fight had been wrong no matter how he looked at it. His shikai was quite complex, true, but he was supposed to get back ready to use reiatsu. Instead, too many personal flavors managed to sneak along with it. Encouraged by the introduction he got carried away, discarded the familiar routine, and made it even more personal. He was slurping the reiatsu and whatever was coming along with it like there was no tomorrow. And now... What now? When was the last time he wanted to fuck anyone twice?
Marvelous. Could he just walk down to the Ninth and ask?
Why not? He was not alone to enjoy it. The rest would be plain and simple, Hisagi would make the typical turn off mistake that nearly everyone else was making, namely leaving Yumichika hanging, and he'd be off the hook. Like always. The world they lived in was a very selfish one and there was nothing he could do to fix it.
But even in a selfish world some things could not be explained rationally. For instance, why this incident had happened in the first place. To his dismay this main question remained unanswered, Fujikujaku, the only one who might have known, or, better, really knew something, didn't feel like spilling any clues. Yumichika went all the way through the flowery meadow of his bright inner world just to watch the shaking belly of his zanpakutou. Damn peacock rocked with laughter in the most humiliating way possible.
Traitor!
1.3
"It was such a shock for all of us, but it must've been really hard on you. I never trust people whose eyes I cannot see..."
"I can't believe Hitsugaya-taichou recovered so fast. Hinamori-kun is still in coma, poor girl…"
"She adores her captain. I mean it's only natural, right? I adore mine even if he never notices my existence. It must be so different for you..."
"This was so cruel, so cruel... I'd never be able to get over if this happened to me..."
"I thought Matsumoto-fukutaichou would join Ichimaru-taichou…"
"Have you seen Kira-kun? I couldn't find him anywhere. Do you think they'd reinstate him?"
"It was really, really nice talking to you..."
He swore that the next sympathetic asshole would go back to the living one way. Then they would lock him up and everything would be over. Right. Like hell it would. Shuuhei made up a few lines about poor Hisagi-kun having a major breakdown and cursed his twisted luck. There was nothing wrong with these idiots. They were just talking like always. It was him who was a mess. Taking a stroll around Seireitei was just as much a mistake, as the yesterday's sorry party. The streets were filled with the idiots torn between pity and curiosity. They couldn't decide on the spot whether they should flee in panic before he might make an embarrassing scene in front of them, or keep fishing for information.
And the growing awareness of being watched was not helping at all. Shuuhei slowly walked around the same block twice, then suddenly flashstepped back. Now he could see his spy was shaking his head in confusion in plain view, and a shiver, not entirely unpleasant, shot up his spine. All his instincts were telling him to run, run fast, and he hated himself when their eyes met and he couldn't even do as much as turn away. Five seconds felt like twenty, and then he flashed out. Ayasegawa Yumichika, the fifth seat of the Eleventh division, left without saying whatever he was going to say. Shuuhei regretted immediately. Ayasegawa wasn't going to say any polite crap like everyone else.
Wanna know? Should've listened, stupid.
He was trying to suppress the memory of that incident, unable even to classify it. "I don't remember", he had told the nameless boy down in the Fourth who never took his eyes off his forms. Anyone would have lied.
The incident had started quite ordinary, but then their even chances were set off by Ayasegawa's hesitation and he saw the opening. Then Ayasegawa turned tables. Did he hesitate on purpose, so he could have an excuse to use that weird shikai? It was plausible. That green vine zanpakutou wasn't just a mindless reiatsu collector, it was hitting all the right places, and the bastard was clearly enjoying every second of that sensual feast. Now it was impossible to tell to what extent it was controlled or even whether Ayasegawa's parting treat was deliberate or accidental. Either way it was humiliating.
That's what you get for being nice and skipping the finishing blow.
"Don't tell Ikkaku..." What a sick joke. Sure, that's exactly what he had been planning to do. And if he threw in the consequences that screwed up his cozy fantasy world beyond repair, his story would become a major hit. He would have to tell it only once. At the back of his mind, imaginary Tousen – and let his keen sense of smell be damned – sneered just the way he had sneered farewell at the execution grounds.
That's what traitors do.
As a last resort, he tried to talk things over with his zanpakutou. "Relax, kid," he was told, "You could've won, if you weren't so ready to die happily from Fujiiro's tricks. Was it really to die for? Huh?" And then the damned thing purred.
Everything in this world had limits. Only humiliation had none.
1.4
Yumichika was following Hisagi for a while, watching. No one bothered him, for his reputation had been created with care to limit any undesired encounters. On the other hand, Hisagi was attacked by hungry retards on each and every corner and his anger was boiling up fast. Why would Hisagi read so deep into them at all? There was no need to check out their ugly inferior motives. Retards were to be accepted with indifference, as an inevitable evil. Accepted and forgotten. On the spot.
Yumichika figured it fast, it was Fujikujaku who messed up Hisagi's sensors, alerting them to the fine details, and making Hisagi able to catch subtleties he would have missed only a week ago.
In other words, it was in Yumichika's power to make a person more perceptive, and perhaps even smarter. At the moment Yumichika was proud, once again his brilliance offered him a whole new world of breathtaking opportunities. He was good, extremely so, a genius. Then Hisagi disappeared from the view, busted his surveillance, and he couldn't utter a single word. So much for the brilliance. The resentment Yumichika saw in those eyes was on the entirely different scale comparing to the mild irritation that was there a while back, and it felt like a major blow. Of course, he obviously wasn't white noise any longer, but he had never expected to be regarded as an enemy. Not like that.
That's what you get for being nice and considerate when you don't really have to.
Confused, Yumichika flashstepped all the way to the Eleventh. In a futile attempt to clear his mind, he volunteered to run the drills and spars. Spars tempted him, he wanted to try his shikai again just to see what would happen. But that much he knew, nothing. He was not interested in nothing. Yet, the temptation wouldn't let go, and he had to cut the training session short and return to the office.
"I don't get it... at all."
"What? He told you to take a hike? It's not the dead fish, huh? One more Kuchiki drooler around and I'm taking hostages. I mean it!"
"Do I look like an idiot?"
Ikkaku pushed his work aside and looked back at him, taking his time. "To be honest, Yumi, you do. I was kidding."
Yumichika ignored him, leaning back on his chair and concentrating on the ceiling cracks. Something wasn't right.
"No way..."
"You've done it."
"Watch it! I never told you to take a hike, I said, 'Hands off, fucker'. That's different."
"He never told me to take a hike either."
"Then you still have a chance."
"Really? What made you change your mind?" Yumichika's seductive voice turned into a burst of laughter as all the sweaty details of that delicate hands-off moment kicked in. He was glad though he hadn't been serious then, and over the years the incident had become a happy memory.
"Asshole!"
For both of them.
Ikkaku made a good point, the words hadn't been exchanged. There was a chance that he misunderstood the murderous intent that had flashed in Hisagi's eyes. Murderous intents were ice cold, and Hisagi radiated heat. In a similar way Zaraki-taichou would turn into a power plant as soon as he smelled a worthy opponent.
That was a lead Yumichika could use. He would just give Hisagi a chance to retaliate and things would start rolling in no time.
"Did you say Kuchiki, Ikkaku?"
"Huh?"
"Excellent thinking! Do you need anything from the Sixth?"
The bewildered look on Ikkaku's face was still there, when Yumichika came back four hours later.
1.5
Captain Kuchiki sorted the invoices, reports, and schedules on his desk into two folders. Then, in one fluid motion, he sent the thicker folder across the table towards his lieutenant. These had to be redone. The folder hit Renji's chest and continued its flight towards the door.
"Abarai-fukutaichou, they do have meetings in the Eleventh division, don't they?" he asked after the folder and all its contents had been safely recovered from the floor.
"You mean like the monthly birthday parties, taichou? I wonder what they gonna get me this time," grinned Renji.
Captain Kuchiki wondered whether his lieutenant was challenged mentally, or it was the demonstration of his sense of humor. Either way he was light years away from being impressed.
"If you cannot keep up with the regular workflow, you should have remained there," he said softly, as if he was talking to a small child. "Your bankai means nothing, if your attention span cannot take you through the simple daily routine."
Is it entertaining enough only when sakura petals fly in your face?
He could not pinpoint the exact reason why Renji's daydreaming irritated him so much. There was no valid reason to put up with it either. They could find someone else to be his second, couldn't they? He remembered the day they had spent with the general discussing the candidates. Yamamoto-soutaichou tried to push another weirdo of Zaraki, but mentioned that Kuchiki would have to go and do all the convincing himself. The mere idea of going to the Eleventh and ask for anything was on the far side of ridiculous. He heard that Ukitake actually had tried winning the guy over, but all his offers had been politely declined. Of course, Ukitake always went beyond reasonable. But he didn't need Ukitake to understand the point Yamamoto had been trying to convey. He shouldn't take anybody for granted, including his brainless lieutenant. He was in the position to know the personnel layout and the transfer rates. Ukitake always had zero transfer out requests and that was the reason he placed Rukia there. It was not like the Sixth division was a sinking ship, and it was not like they had a popularity contest here. There was nothing to worry about. Renji's bankai and three open captain positions meant nothing either.
Nothing at all.
"Dismissed."
Coincidentally, Zaraki's weirdo was hanging around in the hall looking like a hungry hound that just caught the scent of its prey.
And Captain Kuchiki wondered once again what it might have been like, if things turned out the other way. Having the paperwork done perfectly and timely was not enough to offset the inconvenience to look at someone who he so irrationally disliked.
I don't like his measuring glances, I don't like his voice, and I don't like his commanding attitude.
Looking in the direction of the scum that was now ordering his lieutenant around in the middle of his own division was completely unnecessary. Had it ever occurred to both of them that Renji was no longer in the Eleventh?
The day continued its smooth downhill slide when Captain Kuchiki found his folder left in the hall unattended. Renji was nowhere to be found for three hours. It was not like he had been really looking, but this sort of irresponsible behavior was unacceptable. He would not tolerate that. So when Renji finally showed up, smelling fresh out of the onsen, it was only his obligation to issue a proper reprimand.
Nothing more.
"Private matters should be addressed while you are off duty…" he stopped mid-sentence, because Renji was blushing.
"Understood."
Is this what I think it is?
Renji clearly had too much free time to waste and it was in his power to change that. Perhaps, it would be beneficial to send him somewhere far from the questionable influence. And after Renji disobeyed a few orders, no one on his right mind would even consider him for promotion. For a second, Captain Kuchiki felt ashamed, but then his thoughts suddenly took a new twist.
When exactly had Abarai-fukutaichou become Renji to me?
Rukia. Rukia must have been the one directly responsible for this little shift. She had fallen for that insolent clone of Kaien so hard, that all she could talk about was Renji. Renji this, Renji that. Did she have the slightest idea how transparent that was? It was not even amusing. But at least, his concerns were properly explained. Considering what they all had gone through over the last month, it was only natural for him to pick up the habit.
There was absolutely nothing to be anxious about. Nothing whatsoever.
