Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, because I'm not Kubo-sensei. The bleach I own keeps my whites white.
"Ikkaku, who is that woman talking to Unohana-sensei?"
Madarame Ikkaku snorted, barely bothering to look up from his onigiri. "How the hell should I know?" he mumbled around a mouthful of rice and umeboshi.
Ayasegawa Yumichika shot his best friend a withering look. "How many times do I have to tell you that talking with your mouth full is decidedly disgusting?"
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't give a flying fuck, ya fruitcake?"
Yumichika sniffed, insulted. "I don't know why I don't just give up on you," he sighed, and turned his attention back to the pair talking in the hallway – a much more desirable subject, in his opinion. He loved to know things, and there were very few things that happened in the 8/13 studio without his knowledge.
"Could it be that she's one of Aizen's dancers?" he mused. The exchange dancers were supposed to have arrived yesterday.
Ikkaku snorted. "That would make her yer partner then, wouldn't it?"
Before Yumichika could reply, the pair conversing in the hallway entered the room. "Ohayo Yumichika-kun, Ikkaku-kun," Unohana Retsu said gently.
"Ohayo, Unohana-sensei!" Yumichika replied cheerfully. Ikkaku grunted.
"Gentlemen, I would like you to meet Kayashima Sun-sun-san. Yumichika-kun, she will be filling in for Nemu-chan."
The amethyst-eyed man rose to his feet gracefully. Every movement he made was carefully orchestrated in order to exact the most appreciation from his viewers. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kayashima-chan. I trust you had a pleasant journey to Tokyo?"
"It was uneventful, Ayasegawa-san," Sun-sun murmured. At least, uneventful until Grimmjow screwed up his introduction to his partner. She held back a smile at the thought of it.
Yumichika looked her over carefully. Kayashima Sun-sun was no great beauty. Her features were ordinary: round face, slim, straight nose, thin lips, and almond-shaped eyes. If there was anything remarkable about her, it was her coloring. Her skin was a flawless, pale ivory, her hair the darkest ebony, gently flowing to the small of her back. Her eyes were pale green, like a polished soapstone pendant.
He frowned slightly. She reminded him of someone…in fact, she reminded him of Nemu-chan. He groaned inwardly. How could he not have seen it? Her entire demeanor spoke of a rigid sense of propriety and politeness that verged on iciness. Granted, Nemu was much better now because of her relationship with Renji, but the woman standing in front of him reminded him of the Nemu that existed before the redhead's influence, minus Nemu's ethereal beauty.
It wasn't that Yumichika hated dancing with Nemu. On the contrary, they were very well suited. But he had been hoping for something a little different this year, someone with a little bit more fire and life. He sighed. But he wasn't going to complain because complaints were useless as well as unsightly. "Shall I show you to the studio then, Kayashima-chan? I would like to begin right away." He bowed slightly to Unohana. "If you will excuse us, Unohana-sensei."
Sun-sun's first impression was that her new partner was gay. Her second impression was that if that was the case, it was a crying shame. The man was beautiful – and she had a thing for pretty boys. It was something that few knew about her. Mila Rose and Apache knew it well enough and never ceased to tease her about it. She couldn't help it – she detested men that were overly macho and obvious. Unfortunately, that was the de facto type of man at Aizen's studio, with a handful of notable exceptions. Here, however, she could look to her heart's content if her partner was anything to go by.
His face was narrow with features that were elegant and refined, almost delicate. Eyes the color of amaranths were framed by ridiculously long black lashes. She eyed his hands – she suspected that his nails were impeccably manicured. His raven-black hair was perfectly coiffed, his clothing streamlined and deceptively simple in tailoring. That kind of thing meant that they were obscenely expensive.
"Have you warmed up yet, Kayashima-chan?"
"Not yet, Ayasegawa-san."
"Neither have I. Now, allow me to tell you about the people you will be meeting in the studio." Yumichika waved her over to the barre as he chattered, sliding easily into his role as 8/13's gossipmonger. He kept a surreptitious eye on her as they stretched, tracking her moves in the mirror.
Perhaps he had been a little hasty in judging her, he thought. Her entire body was made of long, slim lines that were pleasing to the eye. They said volumes even though she was only stretching; he wondered what stories they would tell when she was in full motion.
The man was a whirlwind, Sun-sun concluded. It seemed like Ayasegawa Yumichika could not stop moving or talking, his hands and mouth going on and on at a dizzying speed, even while he warmed up. Even Apache didn't talk that fast. She rolled her eyes, tuning him out. The next year was going to go very slowly is she was going to have to deal with this on a day-to-day basis, pretty boy or not.
They danced the tango first. With a quick basic, they began. A first dance was as important as a first meeting. It was important for dancers to see if they were compatible, if they could move easily together and read each other's signals. More importantly, a couple could see if they had chemistry on the dance floor, for if they did not have chemistry, they had nothing.
He was pleasantly surprised. Not only did they have a tangible connection, but there was nothing cold about the way Sun-sun danced. No, definitely not, he thought as she executed a particularly violent head snap, her eyes darkening from soapstone to jade. There was passion in every movement, passion that it had taken years for Nemu to discover. She had potential.
"Well Kayashima-san, I do believe we will get along well," Yumichika said approvingly as they came up from their final pose.
"I believe so, Ayasegawa-san," was the cool reply. "Shall we continue?"
He decided then and there that he liked her better when she was dancing. She was actually marginally attractive when there was emotion in her face. He shrugged inwardly as they began a slow waltz. He would just have to keep her dancing, then.
The two new partners quickly developed an easy routine that rarely changed. Sun-sun formed a rapport with the female dancers of the studio, especially Kuchiki Rukia and Kotetsu Kiyone, as they were the closest in age. It was amazing to her how close the dancers were at 8/13 and how they genuinely encouraged each other to get better. At Aizen's studio, the dancers had a tendency to work on their own, guarding their training sessions jealously so that no technique was given away.
She actually liked it at 8/13. Though she was a solitary person by nature, she found herself joining the dancers as they went out at night to the various bars and dance clubs. It helped that Tokyo had a better nightclub scene than Osaka.
Sun-sun glanced at Yumichika, amused. Her partner always partied hard, yet he never showed signs of it when they trained in the mornings.
Rukia bounced into the studio. "Ohayo!"
"Ohayo, Rukia-san," Sun-sun said placidly.
"Rukia-chan! What brings you to us this morning?"
The petite woman grinned. "Ukitake-sensei gave me the go-ahead on the swing dance in the summer. I'm going around to see if people can showcase some dances and I was wondering if you two would do the West Coast Swing."
"West Coast Swing?" Yumichika mulled it over. "I am not familiar with it."
"That's why I'm teaching it to you two, if you will." Rukia was fairly bouncing on her toes. "I love that dance – it's the official state dance of California, you know."
Sun-sun shrugged. "It sounds like fun."
"It is! And I think it'll be perfect for you two." Rukia turned to Yumichika. "Word is around the studio that you have the fastest feet around, Yumi-kun. You'll need them for West Coast Swing."
His eyes sparkled. "A challenge, Rukia-chan? By all means, let us begin!"
"What I love about this dance is its versatility," Rukia said as she walked over to the stereo. "Theoretically, any music that's in 4/4 time works. It can be slow and sexy or fast and exuberant – it all depends on the music."
"It's unpredictable," Sun-sun said.
"Yes, it is! In fact, the song you two will be dancing to has fast and slow parts, so you can show off the range of the swing." She slipped in a CD and then turned back around. "Now, let's get you two into an open hold…"
And so a new part was added to their routine. Swing fever hit the studio as Rukia went around teaching every single dance that she could think of that was derived from the Lindy Hop. That summer, the dancers abandoned their usual salsa clubs for swing clubs.
Sun-sun loved the swing clubs. Swing had quickly become an addiction. She loved the feeling of her skirts flaring out around her knees as her feet walked and stepped in perfect time with the music. There was magnificence in the frenetic movement, as chaotic as it was. The chaos appealed to her after so many years of the rigidity of Standard.
"Sun-chan, I absolutely demand that you get out there on the dance floor," Yumichika announced as he and Matsumoto approached the bar, fresh from a round of jitterbug. "It is a waste to have you standing still!"
A slim black eyebrow arched upwards as the music changed. "Isn't this a little slow?"
"It's in 4/4 time, isn't it?" Yumichika winked at her as he grabbed her hand. "Think of it as an exercise in improv. And sexiness," he added as an afterthought.
"Yumichika-san," she began, affronted. "Are you telling me that I can't be sexy?"
"I don't know, can you?" he bantered back, a teasing grin playing around his lips.
Her eyes narrowed. She was going to wipe that grin right off his face. "Do not underestimate me, Yumichika-san." And so they began.
Sun-sun's mind was ruthlessly organized. On one side she was counting and reading Yumichika's every signal in order to follow his lead. One nice thing about West Coast Swing was that the men and women's steps were not mirrored, so she had more leeway. Right there – there was a downbeat. Double, triple, triple. It was amazing how well she could read him.
On the other side, she was mulling over stylistic maneuvers. The beat of the song was slow and easy, and she matched her body to the movements. Rukia-san told her that modern West Coast Swing had a lot of Latin influence, so she added more of a swing to her hips. Another triple – ah, he was planning something. She could tell by the change in his grip. He planted his feet and there, on the downbeat, he tugged her close until her chest bumped against his.
So you want to play? Sun-sun thought. Very well. She flowed into the pull, placing a hand on his chest and flicking her leg between his in a brief homage to Argentine tango. She smirked slightly, her eyes darting upwards fast enough to catch the complete shock that was reflected in his.
Yumichika recovered quickly, a grin splitting his face as they continued on. Who would have thought that there was a coquette lurking beneath Sun-sun's Ice Queen façade? He definitely had to see more of that, he thought, spinning her to the other end of the slot and sliding into her spin until his shoulder nearly touched her chin. He paused, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. He took great satisfaction in the fact that she blushed slightly.
However, she retaliated quickly with a body roll into his space and from then on the dance became a battle of dominance as they both tried their hardest to outdo the other. When the music stopped they were both sweating and out of breath.
"I stand corrected," Yumichika said softly, the tone of his voice making Sun-sun's stomach do odd things. "That was-"
"That was freaking fantastic!" Rukia shrieked, pouncing on both of them. "I don't know what the heck got into you two, but you better remember some of those moves because we're definitely incorporating them into your routine! That was hot!" She wandered off, muttering plans under her breath.
The pair stared after her, slightly dumbfounded, before breaking out into laughter. Sun-sun stopped abruptly when she realized Yumichika was staring at her. "What?"
He led her off the dance floor. "I agree with Rukia-chan, that was quite hot. We must do that again sometime," he whispered in her ear, smirking slightly. Then with a wave of his fingers, he disappeared back into the crowd.
Sun-sun made her way back to the bar, wondering why she felt so hot and cold. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes when they competed on the dance floor, those violet eyes shining with what was definitely a very male sense of interest. Just remembering it sent a frisson of something shooting down her spine. Oh kami, she thought, this was going to be a problem. She was developing a crush on Ayasegawa Yumichika.
Another night, another swing club, another dance. "Thank you for the dance, mon enfant mignon," Yumichika said with a wink.
And then he disappeared again into the crowd. From past experience, Sun-sun knew that he would resurface later with a gorgeous woman (even a man, on one occasion) on his arm.
For some reason, it bothered her. Oh yes, she knew that they were only partners, but surely he felt something when they danced together, didn't he? She couldn't be alone in her feelings. He didn't have to return her budding regard for him but…she wished for more than just one dance.
"Don't fall in love with him, all right?"
Sun-sun jumped. She hadn't even noticed that Ikkaku had taken the seat next to her. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Madarame-san-"
"Aw, save it." Ikkaku leaned back against the bar, following her gaze to where Yumichika sat, holding court with his harem. "Ya've already started and I'm tellin' ya to turn back now before it's too late."
Madarame Ikkaku had a fearsome reputation, even in Osaka. She never would have dreamed that she'd be having a heart-to-heart with him. This had to be one for the record books, she thought dryly. "You fell in love, Madarame-san. So theoretically, Yumichika-san can, too," she countered.
"Fuck that," he snorted. "Yumi doesn't fall in love. He falls into infatuation, and believe me, that ain't the same as love. He's left women and men more beautiful than ya broken-hearted before, trust me. I ain't sayin' this to be mean, but ya gotta know what yer getting' into."
"And just what am I getting into, Madarame-san?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Look, ya look like a sensible kinda girl, so I'm hopin' that yer smart enough to back away before ya get hurt. Yumi can be cruel, even when he's meanin' to be kind."
Sun-sun was smart; she knew exactly what he was getting at. "And what has he said that was cruel, even if he meant it to be kind?"
Ikkaku took a deep breath. He hated doing this kind of thing, but it was always best to do some damage control beforehand. "He's a shallow, narcissistic bastard, Kayashima. Whaddya think he's said?"
"That I'm not beautiful enough?"
The older man winced. He really hated doing this. "Yeah. But he does like ya when ya dance-" He cursed slightly as Sun-sun abruptly stood up and walked away. "Damn it."
A small hand touched his shoulder. "You tried, Ikkaku."
"She's a nice girl," he admitted, turning to Kiyone. "And she's his partner, even if it is fer a year. She shouldn't fall fer him."
"No, she shouldn't," Kiyone agreed. "But I think you're a little too late."
"Ain't ya gonna go after her? See if she's all right?"
"I'll check up on her later. Sun-sun's the kind of girl who needs some time by herself before she's ready to talk to anyone."
"Greetings my friends," Yumichika chirped as he bounced over to the bar. "Eh? Where's Sun-chan? I thought I saw her here."
"She went home, Yumichika-kun," Kiyone replied.
He frowned. "Did she now? How very boring," he murmured, his brow furrowing as he turned to the bartender. His mind raced as his drink was mixed.
Kayashima Sun-sun was a girl that he couldn't figure out. That fact in and of itself was very disturbing to Yumichika, since he prided himself on his ability to get a read on somone. Sun-sun was proving to be a mass of contradictions. She was a sparrow of a girl off the dance floor but on it she was a bird of paradise. Now, this bipolar nature wasn't unique – Soi Fong and Nemu were also utterly transformed when they danced, but there was just something about Sun-sun that called to him and he couldn't quite figure out what it was.
If it were any other woman he would have called it attraction. Yumichika was a man well-versed in the game of love and he thought himself an expert on all of its facets. But Sun-sun wasn't like the women (and men) whose favors he enjoyed. She brought a different color to his already colorful life, but he wasn't sure where she fit. That was why he always abandoned her after their dances: she was perilously close to overwhelming him. The idea was laughable, for they were as different as a sparrow from a swan.
Yet somehow he thought that those cool green eyes of hers could see past the exquisite feathers of the swan to the ugly duckling beneath. And that was a frightening thought.
Sun-sun was walking back to the studio as swiftly as her feet could carry her. Oh, she was a sensible woman all right – about everything but love. Now, she couldn't say that she was in love with her flamboyant partner, but he was charming and gorgeous and they had something when they danced. The eyes couldn't lie, not on the dance floor. Perhaps that was what Madarame-san meant when he said that Yumichika liked her when she danced. Maybe he saw something in her that was beautiful.
Sun-sun broke out into a run and did not stop until she reached 8/13 and the tiny studio where she danced in every morning. There, she stood and stared at herself in the mirror. There it was; the same face, the same body. This was Kayashima Sun-sun. But what did she look like when she danced?
She danced for what seemed like hours until she collapsed on the floor, exhausted. But she couldn't see it, that thing that made her beautiful. She tottered off to bed, exhausted.
From then on it was as though she was possessed. Every night she returned to the studio. She had to know why he only found her beautiful when she danced. She had to see what he saw so that she could try and bring it forward when she wasn't dancing and just maybe he would just see her.
Her feet sustained a level of abuse they hadn't seen since her years in ballet. Blisters formed on top of blisters, cracking and bleeding until it took every ounce of control she had to walk and not hobble. The pain was excruciating, but she soldiered through it. It was like what her ballet maestro used to say: "The audience must never see your pain on your face. Your toe shoes might stain red, but there must always be a smile on your face. Dance through the pain."
Sun-sun did dance through the pain – and through the night, forgoing sleep for this newfound obsession that would not relinquish its hold on her. That was one of her greatest strengths and her greatest flaws: if she perceived that something was wrong with her, then she would do everything in her power to try and rectify the situation. Her lack of beauty was the perceived problem this time around and she wasn't going to rest until she had closure.
Her obsession began to take a toll on her body, not just her feet. She was pale, wan, and sapped of energy, and it began to show.
"Sun-chan?" Yumichika waved a hand in front of her face as they took a short break from rehearsal. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Yumichika-san," Sun-sun murmured vaguely. Her feet hurt so much, despite the layers of gauze she'd wrapped around her wounds. The bulk of the bandages made it hard to squeeze into her ballroom shoes, and the increased pressure was almost excruciating.
"You're pale," he said with a frown. "Are you sick?"
"No, I'm fine," she said firmly. "Let's continue with the lift."
Unfortunately, the lift was the wrong thing to try, what with her present state of exhaustion and the condition of her feet. She executed the jump-split perfectly, but the landing jarred her blisters, opening a few of them. Agony rocketed through her and she swayed slightly.
"Sun-chan?" Her partner grabbed her shoulders, seeing how she'd gone deathly white. "What is wrong with you?"
"I'm…fine…" Her eyes drifted closed and she passed out from a combination of pain and fatigue. Yumichika swore and swiftly caught her. He shifted her weight in his arms, wondering how she'd gotten so thin all of a sudden. He gently lowered her to the floor, and that was when he caught sight of a spot of red on her socks. When he removed her heels, he saw how the white material was soaked in the stuff.
"What on earth have you been doing to yourself, Sun-sun?" he muttered, suddenly angry. He gathered her into his arms once more and headed for the door, calling for Unohana as he went.
Several hours later, Yumichika, Ikkaku, Kiyone, and Rukia shot to their feet when Unohana finally let herself out of Sun-sun's hospital room.
"How is she?" Rukia demanded.
"Sun-sun-chan is exhausted," the doctor replied quietly. "It seems as though she hasn't been getting enough sleep at all this past week. She does not appear to have eaten much, either. Her feet are torn up as though she's been dancing nonstop. It will be a week or two before she can dance again."
"Can we see her?" Kiyone asked.
Unohana glanced back at the room. "She's asked to be alone for a little while. Perhaps you can come back tomorrow." With a slight nod at the dancers and a peculiar look at Yumichika, she walked away.
It was Ikkaku, surprisingly, who took charge. "Come on girls," he muttered. "Let's go. Yumi, yer stayin' here."
"Me?" He looked at him askance. "You heard Unohana-sensei-"
"Yeah, I heard her," Ikkaku interrupted. "But yer the one who started all this, so ya gotta stay whether Sun-sun wants it or not."
"I did this?" Yumichika was genuinely shocked. "How on earth am I responsible for this, Ikkaku? It's not like I told her to imitate one of the twelve dancing princesses!"
"No, but you might as well have," Kiyone said quietly. "Ikkaku is right. You need to stay here. Someone needs to keep her company." When the older man would have protested, she silenced him with a glare. "She's your partner. Partners look out for each other." With that, the three left.
"Well I'll be," Yumichika huffed. "What on earth has gotten into everyone?" Sighing, he turned and put a hand on the doorknob, hesitating. "Well, she is my partner," he said as he let himself into the room. "Sun-chan?"
There was no reply. He shut the door behind him and crossed soundlessly to the chair that was perched beside her bed. The weak sunlight streaming through the windows combined with her repose threw the effects of the past week into sharp relief on her face. Her cheeks were slightly sunken and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her alabaster skin seemed to be devoid of life.
Yumichika sighed, leaning forward in the chair as he observed her. "You silly girl," he said softly. "What on earth possessed you to do this?" He frowned slightly at the feelings that were suddenly roused in him as she lay on the bed in front of him. There was anger at her foolishness, yes, but there was also worry and…guilt? Why on earth was he feeling guilty? It couldn't be that he truly had some part in this, as Ikkaku and Kiyone accused?
He should have seen the signs, he realized. The exhaustion, the listlessness. He'd just assumed that she was not as motivated when it was the complete opposite. There was something that had driven her to dance like her life depended on it and it was up to him to find out why. He stayed with her the rest of the afternoon and into the night, holding a silent vigil by her side.
Those long hours were the most draining and clarifying hours of his life. It was only around midnight, when he was bleary-eyed and close to passing out that he stumbled upon a startling discovery.
Sun-sun was beautiful.
Her beauty was nothing so superficial as her features – indeed, she probably looked her worst right now. No, her beauty lay within her strength, her poise, her intelligence, and her life. He had known her for so many weeks now; he should have known that. But for some reason, he'd been blinded to the obvious.
And with that dazed conclusion, Yumichika fell asleep, unconsciously reaching out and taking her hand in his, his thumb resting on her pulse.
The next morning, Sun-sun opened her eyes blearily to find a sight she never would have expected to see: Ayasegawa Yumichika, snoring slightly in a chair next to her, his head resting on the bed and one of his hands wrapped around hers. She smiled before she realized that he was the reason why she was here in the first place.
Now, the fault wasn't his alone. She was the one who had pushed herself so ruthlessly in the first place, but the fact remained that she had done it for him. What was he doing here, anyway? If she knew him at all, the only reason he was here was because holding a bedside vigil was the "beautiful thing" to do. Smiling cynically, she carefully withdrew her hand from his grip.
The slight movement was enough to wake him up. Yawning slightly, Yumichika looked up to see Sun-sun staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Good morning," he said, his voice husky from sleep.
Sun-sun hated herself for the way his voice made her feel. "You spent the night here."
He nodded, those amethyst eyes slowly coming into focus. "I did."
"Why?"
Why did he feel on edge all of a sudden? "Partners are supposed to watch after each other, aren't they?" He paused, and there was genuine remorse on his face. "I did a bad job of it this week and for that I am sorry, Sun-sun-chan."
"Stop wallowing in guilt, Yumichika-san. If I'd wanted anyone to know what I was doing I would have told them." She was still angry with herself.
The vehemence in her voice was surprising, but her statement was just the segue he needed. "While the idea of dancing until your feet bleed is beautiful in theory, the reality is not so pretty." He paused. "Why did you do it?"
Sun-sun flinched. "And of course, what would I know of beauty?" she asked harshly, smarting from his use of that word. Kami, how she hated that word now.
He frowned. "I do not understand your meaning."
"Nothing."
"What a sullen reply," he chided. "Obviously you meant something by it, otherwise you wouldn't have said anything."
She sighed, suddenly tired of the whole thing. "Yumichika-san, I do not know why you insist on staying here by the bedside of a woman that you don't consider beautiful except when she dances." Tears stung the corners of her eyes and she turned her head away, humiliated.
For once, Yumichika was at a loss for words. She sounded so terribly hurt. He'd broken his share of hearts, he admitted that, but this was the first time that someone's pain truly affected him. "Sun-sun, you're beautiful!" he exclaimed.
Sun-sun laughed, but there was no amusement in the jarring sound. "That's a good one, Yumichika-san. Kindly leave, please. I think you've done enough."
"Sun-chan-"
"I said it, didn't I? Leave now, please."
Yumichika was stubborn, but he also knew when to pick his battles. She had closed herself off and her armor was spinier than a porcupine's. "Very well. But this is far from over."
Indeed, it was far from over. From then on, Yumichika became the burr in Sun-sun's side. He was there when she was discharged from the hospital, insisting on being the one to take care of her back at the studio. As if that wasn't humiliating enough, he was the one who carried her up and down the stairs at the studio, since it wasn't equipped with an elevator.
For the first three days, she simply ignored him. She was very, very good at silent treatment. Once she hadn't spoken to Apache for a month. The next day she took a page from Mila Rose and turned into a raving bitch. Unfortunately, that act was a little too exhausting for her, so she quickly dropped it. From then on, she just gave up. No matter what she did, he would not leave her alone.
She had to wonder if it was some bizarre form of penance on his part. Apparently her words had had some kind of an effect on him. This Yumichika was different, more subdued. On the other hand, he was much more intense. Several times she caught him staring at her, nothing more, with the most curious expression on his face. Sometimes, Sun-sun wondered just what was going on behind those violet eyes.
Due to the amount of time they spent together, she began to learn more about him. He'd taken to reading her poetry. That fact was not surprising, but his choice of poetry was. He did not favor the flowery words of Shakespeare and Byron, though he did like them. Instead he preferred the lyricism of Eliot and Cummings, choices that were less obvious. Indeed, she was beginning to learn that Yumichika loved the un-obvious. His favorite ballroom dance was not the elegant waltz, but the freewheeling jive. He preferred Cubism to Impressionism, oldies to classical, Japanese cuisine to French. The dichotomy was simply stunning.
It was a learning experience for Yumichika as well. Sun-sun had a sense of humor that was almost painfully dry, but she loved slapstick comedy. She had a weakness for soap operas and a crush on Kimutaku (but then again, who didn't?). She preferred the tango to the waltz and romance novels to nonfiction. He was ashamed that it had taken him so long to discover just what kind of person she was. Sun-sun, he realized, was a kindred spirit.
By the time Sun-sun's feet healed, they were friends. However, there was a different timbre to their relationship. It was as though something more was waiting to be discovered, but both of them were too scared or simply ignorant to see it.
Sun-sun was scared. She had been presented with the perfect opportunity to get over her ridiculous little crush on Yumichika. She could have hated him for making her doubt herself to the point that she effectively crippled herself for two weeks.
But then he'd taken care of her, refusing to leave her side during her recovery. Whether it was intentional or not, he'd shown her a different side of himself during that time. He was making it so hard for her to hate him. The worst part was that she couldn't. If anything, he was drawing her in deeper.
Yumichika, on the other hand, was blissfully ignorant of his blossoming regard for his partner. He delighted in her company; never stopping to ask himself why he felt so compelled to be with her.
"Yumichika-san, you're woolgathering."
He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor. Sun-sun was hovering above him, clearly finished with her stretching. "I've been thinking."
"You have, have you?" she said with a smirk.
"Quiet, you minx." Yumichika grinned at her. He loved her mischievous streak.
"Well, if you're thinking so hard, perhaps you can answer my question." Sun-sun took a deep breath and sat down beside him. "What is beauty to you?" It was difficult to ask because she was terribly afraid of what the answer might be. But she had to know.
He glanced at her, startled. Of all the things for her to ask, especially after what she'd gone through! "That's a difficult question," he hedged. "Only the beholder can say…"
"The beholder I'm curious about is you," Sun-sun said firmly, noting his hesitance. That in and of itself was fascinating: the Yumichika she knew never hesitated to let people know what he thought was beautiful. "Perhaps…perfection?"
Yumichika recoiled slightly. "Heavens no! That's far too…obvious. Though I am a perfectionist, I detest the thought of perfection equaling beauty. Beauty without flaws is a flaw in its own right."
"Forgive me for saying so, but isn't that a little hypocritical, Yumichika-san?"
"How so?"
She bit her lip. "Your hair, your nails, your clothes…it's as though you're trying to make yourself as perfect as possible, and yet you say that perfection is not beauty. You're saying one thing and doing another."
He was silent for such a long time that she feared she'd truly offended him. Then he spoke, his shoulders slumping. "It's true," he admitted. "Perhaps I can forgive flaws more easily in other things than I can in myself, for I…am a deeply flawed person."
"What's wrong with that? To be human is to have flaws, Yumichika-san." She turned to him. "What are your flaws?"
"Artifice and flashy lights," Yumichika said honestly. "You are right. I am the result of a good hairstylist, facialist, manicurist, nutritionist, and a distinct amount of good taste. Strip that all away and all you have is Ayasegawa Yumichika." He sneered slightly. "What does he have to offer to anyone?"
Incredible, Sun-sun thought, watching the shifting play of emotions on his face. He was truly vulnerable beneath that lofty façade. "His heart," was the simple reply.
His head snapped around so fast it was a miracle he didn't get whiplash. "What?" he asked, stunned.
"You heard me, Yumichika-san," she said, smiling. "All you have to offer is your heart, and that is more than anyone could ask for." She got to her feet and offered her hand. "Shall we dance?"
Thoroughly confused and off-balance, it was all he could do to accept. Her words lingered in his mind long after the conversation was finished, prompting all sorts of strange new feelings that he could not even begin to explain.
It took Ikkaku, of all people, to slap some sense into him. "Never thought I'd see the day," the bald man muttered as he and Yumichika sat on the fire escape. "I ain't ever gonna win a bet with that pink-haired demon."
"Ikkaku, what are you going on about?"
Ikkaku rolled his eyes. "I'm talkin' about you and how ya won't shut yer goddamn trap about that partner of yers." The first time Yumichika sought him out to wax eloquent on Sun-sun's virtues, he'd had to excuse himself so that he could laugh himself sick.
The flamboyant man examined his fingernails. "Have I really?"
"Yeah. You ain't infatuated with her, are ya?"
"Heaven's no!" A slight shrug of his shoulder indicated that he was not quite as adamant as his voice suggested. "Sun-chan's different from those others! You know, I cannot woo her the same way, with pretty phrases and petty gifts and meaningless kisses. I cannot make the same promises I never keep because…" he trailed off, the truth of his words settling in. "Because I find that with her I want to keep them." He turned to his friend, his eyes huge. "Ikkaku, what is wrong with me?"
"Yer in love, ya freakin' idiot," Ikkaku grumbled, hiding a smile. "It's about damn time."
"Love?" Yumichika said wonderingly. "Love…Ikkaku, I'm in love!" He burst into tears, throwing his arms about his friend.
"Goddamnit Yumi!" He held the bawling man at arm's length. "Do ya have to be such a damn girl about these things? Go cry on Matsumoto or something!"
Yumichika managed to get a hold of himself, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at his eyes. All of a sudden he was deadly serious. "Ikkaku, I don't deserve her."
"Damn straight you don't," he agreed.
"It would serve her right if she hated me." His lower lip trembled at the thought.
"Yep."
"Ikkaku, you're not helping!"
"Whaddya want me to say? Ya really don't deserve her, Yumi. That onna tore her feet up because she was tryin' to be beautiful fer ya. If she was smart, she'd run away."
Yumichika deflated. Ikkaku was right. "So what do I do?"
He shrugged. "Ya got the courage to tell her how ya feel? Moreover, do ya got the courage to let her go if she rejects ya?"
Yumichika was silent for a long time. "I…don't know."
"Well ya better grow a pair and just do it." Ikkaku sighed. "I don't deserve Kiyone, but the baka onna is still with me. All it takes is a leap."
Violet eyes regarded him with amusement. "Why Ikkaku, you have unexpected depth!"
"Shaddup!"
Yumichika liked to call himself a man of action. If he wanted something, then by golly he was not going to give up until he had it safely in his possession. But when it came to Sun-sun, well…he became a complete coward. For the first time ever, he had doubts. What if she couldn't, wouldn't accept his heart after he'd completely mangled hers? He was so afraid that the tiny flame that had suddenly flickered to life in his chest would be extinguished in one fell swoop, one damning word falling from her lips. It was so utterly terrifying that she held so much power over him.
"Yumichika-san?" Sun-sun wandered out onto the roof. "There you are. I was wondering where you disappeared. Are you tired of the swing dance already?"
Floors below them in the ballroom, Rukia's Swing Dance was in, well, full swing. Poodle skirts, saddle shoes, and slicked-back hair abounded while fifties music played. Yumichika and Sun-sun had already performed their West Coast Swing demonstration and that one simple dance had nearly undone him. How could one person be so utterly captivating? His heart had felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest.
Sun-sun glanced at her partner out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't blind: she sensed that there was something bothering him. The social butterfly had suddenly gone dormant. "You? Alone? Now that's an interesting prospect."
"Sun-chan-"
"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" She leaned against the railing and raised an expectant eyebrow.
Yumichika sighed. If it weren't for the fact that temper tantrums were unsightly, he'd have thrown one by now. "Yes."
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
His laugh was not convincing. "Who says anything's wrong, Sun-chan?"
"The fact that you're brooding. I could be wrong, but you never struck me as the brooding type. Aren't you a man of action type?"
Yumichika winced. How could she read him so well? "Well, right now I'm the brooding type. Now, would you please leave me alone?"
"Well fine, if you're going to be so snippy about it, I'll just go and find someone who really appreciates my company," Sun-sun retorted. She pushed off from the railing and made as if to storm away-
Sun-sun squeaked slightly when she was yanked backwards. It was like crashing into a brick wall – how was a man as skinny as Yumichika so solid? She felt his arms wrap about her shoulders, his breath on her ear. "Don't go," he whispered.
"I wasn't," Sun-sun admitted. She'd only pretended to walk away to gauge his reaction. He wasn't the only stubborn one: since he'd insisted on not leaving her side for nearly two weeks, she was going to insist on standing by him while he was in such a horrible funk.
And if he'll let you, much longer than that, her mind whispered.
It was true. Her little crush had blossomed into full-on love. That heartbreaking show of vulnerability had cemented it for her. She knew now why he tried so hard to be so radiant and dazzling – because he felt he had nothing better to give. But she knew that he did have something more, and she wanted it for herself.
His grip tightened. "I would offer you my heart, Sun-chan, if it weren't for the fact that you deserve much better."
Sun-sun's heart almost stopped. "What?"
"Remember what you told me? All I have to give is my heart."
"No flowery words?" she stammered, shocked.
His laugh was soft and sad. "Those are kind of empty, aren't they? You deserve much better, Sun-chan. Better than a man who would drive you to dancing your feet raw because of some misguided notion of beauty-"
Sun-sun kicked him in the shin, hard. "Ow!" he yelped indignantly. "I'm trying to make a speech here!"
"I thought you said flowery words were empty," was the tart reply. Sun-sun wormed her way out of his embrace and turned around, her jade-green eyes searching.
Yumichika wilted. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. We are both equally to blame for what happened, but what's past is past. I'd much rather concentrate on the present. And the future," she added. "Now, what is this about your heart?"
"It's yours," he said shortly, smarting at having his speech stopped. "If you'll have it."
Sun-sun hid a smile. He really was too cute when he was pouting. "I'm afraid that's not enough, Yumichika-san," she said gravely.
Violet eyes widened. "What?" He wondered briefly if this was what people felt like when they were rejected. If it was, it definitely sucked and he was going to call all of his exes at once and apologize. After he'd downed a few strong drinks, of course.
"Yumichika-san, you should know better-"
"I know, I know, I should have. I take it back-" he babbled, backing away. For once, grace and dignity were the furthest things from his mind. He wanted to find a dark, tiny hole to crawl into and just cry.
Sun-sun rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. "It doesn't quite work that way. You've already given me your heart. I'm not giving it back."
"You-what?"
She smothered a laugh. He looked like a goldfish and it was terribly unattractive. But she'd never loved him more. "A declaration like that should be sealed with a kiss, shouldn't it?"
Yumichika could only stare as he looked down at her smiling face. Briefly, he wondered how the hell she'd managed to get him so thoroughly wrapped around her finger. But somehow, he didn't mind so much. An answering grin flitted across his lips. "I yield to your superior logic," he murmured, sliding elegant fingers beneath her chin as he bent down.
Perhaps it was the love coloring his vision, but that first kiss was the most beautiful thing Yumichika had ever experienced in his entire life. Every sense was heightened to the extreme, from the petal softness of her lips to the delicate fragrance of jasmine that came from her hair. She was warm and steady and so real in his arms, giving everything she had even as she took all that he had to give.
"I hope you know what you're doing," he said unsteadily as they parted. "I'm not perfect."
Sun-sun's heartbeat was roaring in her ears and she was breathing like she'd just finished a marathon. She'd never felt better. "Yumichika…has it ever occurred to you that it's your imperfections that are beautiful? That I can love you because of them rather than in spite of them?"
"No," he said hoarsely, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That sounds a little too good to be true." But those amethyst eyes were glowing brightly.
"Get used to it."
Finally, he smiled. "I do believe I can, Sun-chan." He kissed her again, his lips lingering sweetly until she was clinging to him.
"You're too charming for your own good," Sun-sun grumbled.
Yumichika was delighted. "Am I?"
She elbowed him. "You are and you know it."
He grinned and tucked her hand into his elbow. "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I don't really care, as long as you're dancing with me."
Reviews, as always, are much appreciated!
A/N: Okay, writing Yumichika was as much of a challenge as writing Unohana in "Come Fly With Me." Needless to say, I was not completely happy with that situation, seeing as how "The Lady is a Tramp" came out so easily. That's why this was not posted on Valentine's Day as I'd hoped. But anyway, I wrote Yumi as bisexual because I think he doesn't discriminate when it comes to beauty. I know the whole dance-until-your-feet-bleed thing was angsty, but I figured he needed a big kick in the butt to see that he needed to look beyond the physical - in Sun-sun as much as himself. I hope that came across! Next in the series marks the return of Shall We Dance? in the SB universe, with a pairing requested by the amazing jazzpha, whose stories "Torn" and "The Guns of Karakura" are freaking AWESOME. I have nothing but mad love for his writing, so you guys should check him out! The pairing? Let's say they concern two rather green Espada...
As always, poptate and MatsuMama are absolute angels. They have counseled me through endless hair-tearing sessions over this story.