"No, no. His favorite color is green, baka." Ikkaku rolled his eyes.
"But he always wears that stupid orange collar." Renji scratched his head, with a confused frown.
"I thought it was blue." The soft voice of Kira came from across the room the Shinigami Men's Association were borrowing from Byakuya.
Ikkaku shook his head, there was no getting through to these numbskulls. "Nah. His sword's obsessed with blue, but he prefers green. Trust me."
"Ok, we believe you. Why is it important, Madarame?" Hisagi asked.
"Well, his birthday's comin' up." The Eleventh's Third Seat rolled his shoulder, uncomfortable with the number of questions he was being asked. The only reason he'd brought the topic up at all was because of the fact that he needed the others' help in getting to the Living World. If he'd just done it himself, the object of their conversation would find out about it. So, that left him with the only option being to have one of the others get what he needed for him.
The president of the SMA, Iba Tetsuzaemon, frowned over his sunglasses. "I vote Renji to do the running. Hisagi and I can arrange to provide the music you've asked for, Madarame, but as for the rest," He paused, "I think you're on your own. I know his birthday is a big deal for you. It just isn't for the rest of us."
It was better than he'd hoped for. So, Ikkaku grinned and simply thanked the guys. The rest of the meeting went off without another hitch and they dismissed promptly so they could get their tasks finished as quickly as possible.
Several hours later, the shaven Shinigami was flash-stepping through the Rukongai, the vibrant Fukutaicho of the Sixth at his shoulder, because the two of them knew the place better than almost anybody else. They were headed for a small farm on the very edge of the 78th District. It was modest for the area, but the tiny plot of land was barely able to sustain the elderly man who lived there with his daughter's family.
"Y'sure 'bout this, Madarame?" Renji asked, skeptical of even talking to the impoverished family.
"Yah. Just…don't mention it ta anybody that we came here." He was nervous now, but if he wanted his plans for three days from today he had to bite the cero and get this done. He took a deep breath and knocked on the wood of the gate in the fence around the shack of a house.
"C'n A help ya, boy-o?" The bent old man barely had any teeth, dressed in a make-shift tunic the color of the sky. He leaned heavily on a walking stick that was carved into an intricate warped design that had been polished smooth by decades of hands leaning on it. His hair was long, fine, and pulled back into a neat braid that reached down to his thighs. The wrinkles on his face spoke of just how long this particular soul had existed in the universe, but his eyes—that was another story. They were sharp, bright and a very familiar purple color.
"I hope so, Jii-san." Ikkaku rubbed the back of his neck. "M here ta git somethin' from ya fer your son."
The old man's face hardened. "M'son? Y'aren't dressed like a debt collector, an' ya dun look like 'is us'al cust'mers. Sa, whatcha want wi' m'boy? Ya in love wi' him?"
"No!" The Third Seat swore too quickly. He looked away, trying to cover up his vehemence with cool indifference, but refused to meet the old man's eyes.
"Uh huh. Well, g'ud luck wi' that. 'E's not one ta jus' take tha first thing that steps in 'is way. Al'ays been stuck up that way." The elder saw straight through his lie like it was written across his scalp.
Renji snorted, "Ya dirty liar, Madarame!"
"Madarame?!" The old man's eyes lit up. "Really now?"
"You idiot!" Ikkaku smacked the redhead across the stomach with the sheathed form of Hozukimaru, which cost his friend his breath. Unfortunately it didn't stop him from laughing as he fell on the ground under the Third Seat's glare.
"Yer tha boy m'boy goes on 'bout all the time when 'e comes home." The old man broke in again. "Sa, why d'ya wanna talk ta me if'n yer tha one he follahs after allah tha time?"
"Well, his birthday's in three days," Ikkaku rubbed his neck again. "I'm gonna—"
"No, S'not." He was interrupted.
He frowned, they'd always celebrated his birthday on the 19th. "What?"
The old man shook his head. "'E can't stand the kanji fer 'is real birthday. 'Nother one o' them 'ugly' things 'e goes on 'bout. 'E was born on the 17th. I was there."
While the old man prattled on Ikkaku got lost in his thoughts for a moment. Well, shit, that meant it was tomorrow. He'd have to step up his plans. When he came back to himself the old man was still going.
"Is momma was one'a da most purdy ladies I'd ever seen, an' when 'e was born…whew, lemme tell ya, ain't no boy ever looked sa purdy as him." He shook his head again. "Im an' 'is sister, neither one o' 'em shoulda been born out here. 'Sa good thin' 'e's up there wi' ya all in Seireitei. 'E b'longs there. Knew that tha day ya showed up an' took 'im 'way from all this."
Renji was thoroughly confused now, but this was Ikkaku's deal. So, he kept silent, still sitting on the ground where he'd been knocked. Obviously, there was more to the Third and Fifth Seats of the Eleventh than at first appearance. He shook his head as the shaved Shinigami followed the old man through the gate and into the shack, settling his ponytail a bit better on his back. It was almost too long these days. Were it not for Byakuya's obsession with it, he'd cut it back down to the length it had been two years ago. He was lost in thought when his friend returned, carrying a suspiciously shaped case that was beaten and worn.
"Thanks again, Jii-san." Ikkaku called, with a smile and a wink at a stunning petite young woman with purple-black hair who had exited the shack with the old man.
The redhead was on his feet in a flash and striding after the Third Seat, confused as all get out. The family waved back, and all Renji could do was follow along like a puppy. Catching up to the other, he asked, "So, what's in the case?"
Ikkaku laughed. "Ha, wouldn't ya like ta know." A dark amusement lit up his eyes, and a smirk curled the corner of his mouth.
Renji frowned. "Whatever. I'm off fer the Livin' World. I'll git yer thingy an' I'll be back as soon as I can."
"A'right , see ya." The Third Seat turned off and headed deeper into the Rukon streets, still carrying the case.
Now that he was alone, the battle-happy Shinigami allowed a softened expression to cross his features. Going through this part of the Soul Society always made him nostalgic, and collecting the things he'd been going around picking up just made that feeling worse. Over seventy years ago, when he and the man he was doing everything for were just wandering around the Rukongai trying to survive, there was a day where he'd come back from hunting to hear gently plucked music drifting out of the hut they had called home.
"Oi! What's that?" He asked, bursting through the door like it was worth something after standing and listening to the sad song for several minutes.
The object of his attention whipped his face away, scrubbing at it most awkwardly with the sleeve of his kimono. "Oh, nothing." His voice wavered, and Ikkaku knew he'd been crying.
Leaving his companion to keep his dignity, he merely sat down and asked, "How come ya don't play more often?"
There was a guitar in the other's hands, and soft violet eyes rested on the old, but well-loved wood with a fond expression that Ikkaku knew would never be given to any living being. "It is unbeautiful to brag about one's talents. Such gifts as these are meant to be kept private, shared only with loved ones." His delicate hands traced the strings once before he stood stiffly and placed the instrument in the very same case that the now Third Seat carried today.
They had gone on to discuss that his sister's good-for-nothing husband had once again squandered their water supply, but all Ikkaku could do was watch the flashes of blue and green that colored his normally lavender and violet eyes. Rolling those eyes, he haughtily declared, running his fingers through the long tail of his hair to get the knots out before bed, "I, for one, am never falling in love. It only causes trouble and it is something that someone like me just simply does NOT need."
The shaven man could only laugh weakly, doing his best to cover up his lax in attention and the way his heart beat erratically in his breast. "It can't always be like that, can it?"
"Ha. How could it not be? Love is either troublesome or not there at all. You know there is no middle ground, Ikka." The brunette tossed his hair back over his shoulder and leveled the shaven man with an expression that proclaimed there was no changing his mind. It was black or white, not grey.
At the time, Ikkaku had hoped sincerely that his companion was wrong, but so far, over seventy years, and the man still hadn't had a single lasting relationship. The Third Seat had watched, especially back then, as men and women came and went from the object of his affection's bed. Some of them paid for the privilege in coin, some in food, but all in dignity and love. The biggest tease in Seireitei strung so many along like starved puppies that it would have been laughable if it hadn't enraged Ikkaku. Not that the violent Third Seat would let anyone know how much it bothered him. No, he poured his energy into his training and fighting. Truthfully, that was how he wound up with Bankai so quickly. All of that jealous rage had to go somewhere, and Hozukimaru was the perfect target.
Shaking his head to clear his memories, he stepped up his Shunpo to make it back to the division barracks before the man that would not leave his thoughts arrived. He only managed to duck into the door of their shared quarters before said object of his attention appeared.
"Ikka? What are you doing?" The haughty Shinigami raised a delicately be-feathered eyebrow and tilted his chin, scanning the room certain that there was more to it than what there appeared to be at the moment.
"N-nothin'." The Third Seat stumbled over his words as he tried to hide the case behind him. "Ya aren't s'posed ta be here yet. Aren't ya still on duty fer 'nother hour?"
The eyebrow arched higher. "Technically, yes. However, the vice-captain has disappeared and Zaraki-Taicho has declared that the entire division is to aid in her search. I came to get you so that we might search together. Your company is much easier to tolerate than any of the ugly members of the unseated ranks."
"Oh…izzat all?" Ikkaku looked off to the side.
"Are you certain that you are doing nothing, Ikka? You aren't trying to surprise me for my birthday again, are you? You know how well that went over last time." The Fifth Seat flicked his hair, disdain crossing the features that held the man he was addressing spell-bound.
Oh, how well he remembered the last time he'd tried to accomplish this. He'd hired a palanquin to take them around on a picnic to celebrate not only the exquisite man's birthday but also their combined achievement of obtaining seated positions in Zaraki Squad. He remembered staring up at his companion seated in the place of the noble, leaving the passenger's seat open. At the time he didn't think anything could look better. However, that same day was when the centipede Hollow had attacked, and they'd been forced to abandon their plans in favor fighting alongside their captain. That brought a fond smile to the shaven man's face.
"Yeah, but we had fun anyway!" He declared proudly. At the end of that fight, the four of them, including the captain and vice-captain, had become an unshakable team. The mutual respect among the three males made for a force than nothing, not even Aizen, had been able to break.
"That doesn't change the fact that your ridiculous idea was completely thrown out and we were forced to act as though it was yet another day. Not that I have a problem with that. I tell you every year not to make a big deal out of the day of my birth but you never listen. My point is merely that you attempted and failed." The slim male gave another flick of his hair, and turned to leave the room. Pausing in the doorway, he looked back over his shoulder, the light from the hallway framing his astounding features. "In any case, I shall be waiting outside for you. We must find the vice-captain before she either manages to sneak into the Kuchiki estate again or bothers Ukitake-Taicho." Then he was out the door and walking away.
Ikkaku let out the breath he'd been holding and slumped onto the bed. That man knew how to look straight through all of his plans. Well, hopefully it didn't matter. Even if the Fifth Seat did know he was planning a surprise for his birthday, he didn't know the details, and that meant that the Third Seat could still pull it off.
The search took the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. As it turned out, Yachiru had escaped into the Living World with Renji, which as vice-captain of the Eleventh she was able to do fairly easily without telling anyone. So, when the crimson haired fukutaicho stepped through the Senkaimon with the bubblegum-head on his shoulder, the entirety of the Eleventh, Second, and Fourth Divisions damn near murdered him on sight.
"WHOA! I HAD PERMISSION! I SWEAR I FILLED OUT THE PAPERWORK FER BOTH O' US!" Renji yelled, staring wide-eyed at the extended Shikai blades of Hozukimaru, Fuji Kujaku, Suzemabachi, and whatever the names of Kenpachi and Iemura's Zanpakutous were.
"Well, fuck, Abarai." Kenpachi swore.
"Ken-chan, that's a dirty word! Braidy-lady won't like you using it in front of me." Yachiru leapt from Renji's shoulder to her typical perch, stepping on Iemura and Ikkaku's heads on her way through. The blonde Third Seat, unused to the fukutaicho's exuberant behavior fell to the ground with a groan.
Soi Fon drew herself up to her not-so-imposing height, sheathed her sword and glared. "Zaraki-Taicho, the next time your second in command goes missing, please instruct your seated officers to guarantee that she is not legitimately deployed somewhere." Her words were cold and she didn't wait for his response before flitting off in a whoosh of Shunpo.
The mountain of a captain rolled his eyes, scoffing at the egotistical female. "C'mon, Yachi. Ya've gotta get a bath." He grabbed the fainted blonde Third Seat from the Fourth Division, leaving the others to finish cleaning up the nonsense that had put three divisions up in arms.
"A'right, clear out! Nothin' ta see here." Ikkaku shooed the unseated officers back to their respective divisions. That left himself, Renji and the ultimate cause of the uproar, the reason the redhead had gone to the Living World in the first place.
Said cause faked a yawn, and a stretch, "Well, as fun as all of this has been, some of us need to get our beauty rest, and others of us need to rest in spite of being beautiful already." He gave the other a smug smirk and left them alone on the darkened promenade.
As soon as the Fifth Seat was out of hearing range, Ikkaku turned to Renji, "Did ya at least get what I asked ya fer?"
"Yeah, I got it." The redhead held out a small box.
Opening it, the Third Seat beamed. "Perfect! Not just the right ones but in that color. Thanks, Renji! I owe ya one."
"Yeah." The fukutaicho scoffed, "Jus' cover me tha next time we go out with tha guys."
Ikkaku absently nodded and the two went their separate ways. It took the shaven man a bit of time to get back to his quarters. A stop at the baths and then at the division kitchens to guarantee everything was set up perfectly, and he could finally find his bed. His roommate was already breathing deeply and was tucked under his covers snugly. So, he simply placed the box next to the brunette's head, where he was sure to find it in the morning, and settled in to sleep himself.
The next day dawned bright and cheerful. Ikkaku was actually awake with the first rays of sunshine, having mentally prepared for this day for entirely too long. Hozukimaru grumbled in his mind, but he promptly told the sword spirit to shut up. Looking over at his companion, he smiled. Kami, but that man was beautiful. He took a deep breath, this was it. Today was the day. Either he'd get his miracle, or not. Moving off to their private bathroom, he replaced the red markings he sported under his eyes, and for once, made extra certain that his shihakusho was straight and clean and perfect before returning to the bedroom he shared.
By the time he got back, predictably, his roommate was awake. The Fifth Seat was frowning slightly, looking around the room. Decorations in the soft muted greens and blues he preferred hung everywhere, his guitar in its battered case leaned against the wall, and an assortment of his favorite sushi was arranged on a tray next to the bed. He didn't even need to get up to reach his eye decorations. Everything was perfect, and he looked up when the Third Seat walked into the room again.
"Ikka, what is all of this?" He asked softly.
"Happy birthday, Yumi." Ikkaku grinned, and held out the box.
Frowning a bit deeper, Yumichika said, "Ikkaku, you know full well that my birthday isn't for another two days."
"Sure it is, Yumi." The shaven man winked with a smile.
With a small huff, the Fifth Seat took the box and opened it. Inside, nestled in a bed of cotton, was a set of peacock feather earrings in the same shade and pattern as Ruri'iro Kujaku's Shikai flowers. The smaller man's breath caught in his throat.
"You like them?" Ikkaku asked.
"Baka! They are absolutely beautiful, but why did you do all of this? Would our traditional day of sparring and training have been sufficient?" Once again the brunette looked around the room at all of the deeply personal gifts and gestures his companion had made.
"Ya really need me ta spell it out fer ya?" Ikkaku stepped across the room to sit in front of the object of his affection. He reached out to draw his hand down the porcelain cheek, but the smaller man drew back slightly, still confused.
"I thought we had an agreement, Ikka? I swore I'd never fall in love." The Fifth Seat was still frowning. "Please don't tell me you love me, I can't love you back. I swore. I did. Lie to me if you have to, but don't tell me you love me."
"Then I don't." Not letting him get away, he cupped the other's chin and pulled their lips together.
The kiss was frozen for a second, then grew increasingly hotter as the hunger between them consumed Yumichika's protests. The sushi was pushed out of the way and Ikkaku climbed onto the bed over top of the smaller man. They explored each other's mouths for a while, hands running up and down each other's bodies, completely ignoring the way Yumichika's hair was mussed up by the pillow and the way Ikkaku's perfectly put together shihakusho was rumpled.
After a while, the Third Seat pulled back, peppering kisses down his beloved's neck. "I don't love you, Yumi. I don't love you with all of my heart."
Clutching the box with his brand new ornaments in it, Yumichika finally gave in to the persistence of his partner. "Oh, Ikkaku, you tell me the most beautiful lies."
A/N: Happy birthday, Yumi! Inspired by both the song I'd Lie by Taylor Swift, the wonderful interpretations I've read of that song about these two, the truly stunning artwork of Ze-Ro Fruits over on Deviantart, and finally my desire to show that Ikkaku really does love and care about Yumi, even if he often is portrayed as the oblivious one. I don't think Yumi is oblivious, I think he's just too proud, and probably too hurt by his growing up in the Rukongai, to allow the love he feels for Ikkaku to truly consume him the way he needs to let it. This was also partially fueled by a line in the manga where Ikkaku returns with the group that brings Ichigo's power back. He grins at the Fullbringer boy and says "I'm the luckiest damn Shinigami in Seireitei" and I got to thinking just why he'd think that way. The only answer I could come up with was Yumi! XD Hope you enjoyed it. Ja ne, minna!