A/N: Another joint effort by two of your most beloved authoress.
Disclaimer: "I say we have to emphasize her strength! And her strength is her hourglass figure!" A man wearing green and white strip hat said in annoyance and tapped his closed fan on his palm agitatedly.
"Urahara," the other man replied with surprising calm, "Orihime-san is not a model. She is an actress and therefore we are going to emphasize her face. That is final."
Abruptly, there was a mechanic voice blasting out. "An hour left to commercial one-oh-one-five-three-six-eight-two-one."
"But Shinji- !"
"Final is final."
In the end, it was decided that Inuoe Orihime was to have her face emphasized on the commercial for Wow-Wow Bleach.
On the bottom of the commercial were the words.
"We do not own Bleach."
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"Haaaai, people! Are you ready?!"
A chorus of enthusiastic 'YES!' was the reply. The sound travelled along the strangely rather empty street..
"On the count of three.... One... Two... Three... GO!"
Simultaneously, seven little boys and girls of no more than ten years old (accompanied with appropriate sounds) began sucking in the milk from a big dish as fast as they can, trying to gather as much milk as possible...
Through their noses.
Some of them had tears in their eyes, their cute faces red, while others had the pained expression of compressed lips, as if constipated. One boy couldn't take it and fainted in an appropriately dramatic fashion.
No one really paid much attention to the boy lying on the floor. They were all concentrating on the most important thing their little minds.
They were going to WIN.
"Stop!!! Three... Two... One... GO!!"
With a great shuddering breath, all of them blew with all their might, squirting the milk that they just sucked in with great force.
Most average adults with their ridiculously narrowed mindedness probably would not be able to guess what the children were doing. However to other kids, it was obvious. They were having a competition to see who can squirt milk the furthest through their noses.
The on-lookers, spectators, passers-by and audiences all had a common goal in mind, which was to avoid the flying specks of snot-covered milk at all costs. The moment they spotted the seven children together, perhaps some resemblance of self-instinct kicked in because despite the streets being narrow enough by itself, suddenly everyone scooted away and gave them a wide berth. That showed that humans do have intelligence, even if it was in the lowest form – instincts.
Except for five unfortunate individuals, who weren't even quite human to begin with. They lacked that in-born instinct and ended up on the receiving end of several blasts of sprayed milk.
Immediately, all their face froze in whatever facial expression they had been holding onto.
Before a particular individual quickly turned murderous roared.
"WHAT THE !#$% YOU LITTLE PIECE OF $#! YOU SEE IF I DON'T TEAR YOU APART!! ALL OF YOU!!"
That was none other than the Sexta Espada, Grimmjaw Jeagerjaques's rather loud howl of anger. However, it is more commonly known as 'sweet music' to his various fan-girls who seem to really like his violent personality. He then proceeded to call the children many names which have been censored as they are deemed inappropriate by all social parameters. According to him, they were all born out of wedlock from mothers who were intelligence-challenged Canis lupus familiaris of the female variety, while their fathers suffered from incestuous inclinations, especially towards their own children.
The authors of this story must politely refuse to give a direct translation to that
It served its purpose well enough however, because by the end of his rant most of the children had all dispersed into the crowd, never to be seen again. All that is, except for one particular sweet, innocent-looking girl with pink hair who was staring blankly at the five people covered in milk in front of her.
"YOU!!!"
The scream of utter outrage was now directed towards that said little girl. However, despite facing a person fit for murder -the victim preferably her-, she remained remarkably composed, blankly staring at the victims.
It was only when Grimmjaw stepped aside, revealing the person behind him, that terror widened her eyes.
"Glasses-san... oh no...."
Soon after, that was followed by...
"KEN-CHAN!!!"
With that, Kujajishi Yachiru fled, this being the first time that she ever felt compelled to do so. But this was different. They were the bad guys. Bad guys who were a hundred times stronger than she was. Glasses-san, Foxy-kun, Goggles-san, Blue-Shiro and one other person she didn't recognize with them.
Within the next three seconds, the pink-haired vice-captain had disappeared, leaving behind five people dripping with milk on their persons. What their reactions were after that... Least said, soonest mended.
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Travelling back in time, we must, to search for the cause. The past affects the present, as a rule that time must flow.
Somewhere, far far away, in a dark reclusive chamber, under fifteen tons of poisonous mud, guarded by three unspeakable monsters, protected by countless charms....
Were the two deities of the universe.
"Hey, it's your turn now." a low, eerie voice whispered.
Eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing red eyes that glowed menacingly in the black abyss.
"Gladly." the owner of the red eyes intoned softly.
And so... let the pendulum swing back.
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Above the landscape of buildings which formed the soul-rich Karakura Town, both Shinigami and Arrancar stood upon thin air, each side observing the other closely. But it would not ring true to say that the death gods and former Hollows were clearly defined as enemies, since two Shinigami were standing alongside with just a single Arrancar.
"Good to see you again, Commander Yamamoto," the former captain of the 5th division intoned, pleasant amusement flowing out in soft, yet steel-like waves from his words. Aizen Sousuke's cool gaze then turned onto the two other Soul Society captains standing on either side of the aged Yamamoto Genryuusai. "And you as well, Ukitake, Kyouraku."
"Ah, thanks for that, Sousuke," the lazy drawl belonging to one Kyouraku Shunsui drifted out immediately in reply. His carefree acknowledgement of his former colleague contrasted with the underlying seriousness flashing in his eyes, which were half-hidden by his straw hat.
Aizen just smiled further at that, and also at the stony glare the Commander was giving him. Ukitake didn't say a word, merely stared impassively at the three inhabitants of Las Noches.
"Enough," Yamamoto rumbled. His hoarse voice, dredged by thousands of years and war, didn't affect the command as General-Commander in his tone. "Ukitake, the contract."
"Hai, Sensei." The white-haired captain then proceeded to draw out a sealed-up scroll from inside of his sleeve, and with one swift movement, let the scroll roll open downwards to reveal slant, black waves of ink that detailed the terms.
"Ulquiorra," Aizen commanded quietly.
"Hai, Aizen-sama," the stoic 4th espada said obediently. He too, likewise, stepped forward in one, controlled, fluid gesture, and rolled open a similar scroll.
"If the..." the overlord began.
However right at that time, a jet plane flying just above the speed of sound flew past, emitting a loud, noisy roar from its engine all the while, successfully drowning out what Aizen was about to say. One could observe the soul society members looking intently at the overlord's lips, as if trying to lip read.
After the plane was a considerable distance away, and only a far-away rumble was heard from its engine, there was silence on both parties. Until Kyoraku broke it.
"Can you repeat that again?" He frowned.
"I said, if terms are agreeable. Tomorrow, December 11th, I will bring my comrades to the Living World to… 'have fun', as some of your subordinates may put it, Yamamoto." Aizen let his lips quirk upwards despite his slight annoyance at the human contraption that so rudely interrupted him.
"As I will," Yamamoto responded. "Likewise, the Gotei 13 will go to the Living World for a day of relaxation and enjoyment before…"
Before the first division captain could finish his speech, a large flock of black crows mysteriously appeared behind him, crowing and causing such a pandemonium that he was forced to stop speaking for a moment.
"Before the real battle begins," Aizen finished for the commander instead, his deep voice dropping lower and his hazel eyes narrowing slightly despite the ever-present smile that seemed a little forced on his face.
Yamamoto was only silent for a fraction of a second, he too, garnering a small crease to form between his brows, before continuing. "Correct." His eyes opened, though still narrowed, as he continued with a heavier undertone in his voice. "And on no account are your soldiers to attack Soul Society, or any of the chosen Gotei 13 in the Living World before December 11th."
"Then I too, will say the same to you," Aizen spoke. "Rest easy, Yamamoto – I am a man of my word, and I will adhere to my promise. If there is any violation of the contract by my Arrancar, I will personally deliver punishment unto them. Of course – " Aizen smirked – "that will be only if Soul Society does likewise."
"Then you do not have anything to worry about," Yamamoto said. "I have already informed the Gotei 13 of this agreement and they already know of the terms concerning it, as well as the consequences if there are any breaches of orders."
"Of course," Aizen replied, his smile becoming even more pronounced. "Then I am reassured. You have done such things and risen magnificently to the occasion during your reign as General-Commander."
His expression, voice and demeanour did not change, but there was a subtle hint of mockery behind the praise of the General, and it was not lost on the old man. The glare behind his aged eyes deepened.
"Very well then." Yamamoto turned his back onto the three opposing men. "We will be returning, Jyuushiro, Shunsui."
"Sure thing, Yama-jii," Kyouraku replied casually, his flowery coat billowing out behind him as the Senkai Gate materialized and opened to reveal bright, glaring light. Ukitake followed behind, the scroll tucked back in safely in his sleeve.
Kyouraku took note of the almost sombre look on his friend's face and slapped him on the back as the gate closed behind them. "Cheer up, old friend," he said easily. "Why so down? We got a lot to look forward to tomorrow. Imagine! All the young, pretty girls at a bar in the Living World, drinking sake…"
Despite the looming prospect of the upcoming battle, Ukitake couldn't help but laugh. "You're talking about yourself, rather."
"Maybe. But we might as well make the most of whatever time we have left. Let's enjoy ourselves tomorrow, 'kay?"
"Shunsui is right," Yamamoto interjected unexpectedly, drawing surprised glances from his former students. "We have poured much blood and sweat into this war. Our morale cannot be dampened at this point."
Ukitake paused, and then smiled as the three Shinigami made their way back to the Gotei 13 headquarters to make the official announcement.
Meanwhile, the residents of Hueco Mundo stepped through the garganta that revealed the main hall of Las Noches. "Ulquiorra," Aizen started. "Will you be so kind as to gather all the Espada in the meeting room?"
"Hai, Aizen-sama." Wasting no time in carrying out the order, the Cuartro Espada left the hall, his coattails flapping behind.
There was a short silence as Ulquiorra backed out of the hall, his reiatsu growing thinner with every step. "Looks like tomorrow's gonna be a fun day," Ichimaru Gin chuckled, the permanent grin etched onto his face seemingly growing wider with every word.
"Perhaps," Aizen said amusedly as the two men made their way to the Espada meeting hall. He knew how much Gin enjoyed observing the mortals in the Living World. The silver-haired Shinigami often used portals to watch the human realm and laugh at their antics and habits, much to the derision of some Arrancar.
"Imagine if someone like, say…. Grimmjaw were to go to the Living World," Gin continued, almost laughing. "And Ulquiorra as well. Just think of that."
As Gin smiled in anticipation of the following day, Aizen found his lips curving upwards as well. Tomorrow was going to be interesting indeed.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Let the pendulum's swing, accelerates and dashes.
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A blanket of white snow covered the ground, somehow softening the harshness of reality and bringing about a sense of surreality to the lands. It was odd, how the tiny snowflakes that melt upon touching human skin could achieve that. Pine trees, shrubs, and brown huts were scattered around the area; some huts had rising smoke to signify people attempting to warm themselves in the freezing cold. Sounds of children squealing in laughter and shouts of challenges issued by raucous teenagers were heard above the swishing of skiers sliding – some gracefully, some not, down the slope.
Hitsugaya Toushiro sprouted a microscopic smile on his determined face as he ski with the skills of a professional skier. He manoeuvred himself sharply around the many rocks jutting out of the snow, trees, and many other obstacles, causing several females to give a little sigh as he passed them. One, too focused on looking at him, even crashed into a tree an undignified 'ek!'.
Not that Hitsugaya took any notice. He was concentrating on the pure exhilaration of being in his elements. Literally. He decided the visiting the human world wasn't all that bad. Just this once.
'After all," his thoughts darkening, "who knows whether I'd still be alive in 24-hours...'
Unwilling for such thoughts to spoil his mood, Hitsugaya waved it away and allowed the chilly wind to empty his mind.
'The snow is covering everything... Almost as if purifying the Earth... I wished Hinamori could have seen this..."
Just as he was about to reach the finishing line, his vice-captain Matsumoto Rangiku, leaped out from behind a tree, and attempted to hugged him.
"Hitsugya-taichou," she cooed, "You are soooo cool!"
Unable to stop in time, nor willing to crash straight into his vice-captain, Hitsugaya had dug in his skiing pole at the last minute. Skiing sideways, he struggled to maintain his delicate balance. After a nerve wrecking moment, he finally managed to stand up properly.
Very unfortunately for him however, a huge rock happened to be jutting out at the particular angle, such that his skies got stuck at the bottom of the rock. Carrying the momentum, Hitsugaya flew through the air...
Towards the window of a private ski lodge.
'Oh hell. I don't want to look.' Hitsugaya covered his face with his hands.
With an earth shattering sound of breaking glasses, Hitsugaya flew into the lodge, and landed, relatively uninjured, on a table.
A billiard table to be exact.
The perfectly arranged triangular formation of the balls were sent flying in unison like fireworks. Half of them rained down upon one of the player's head (also known as Kuchiki Byakuya), while the other half was scattered around the ski lodge. Some rolled underneath the sofa, two bounced on Ichimaru Gin's back, and one hit Shihouin Yoruichi's posterior.
Hitsugaya raised his head and spat out the last remaining ball in his mouth.
He retracted his previous statement. Going to the mortal world was always bad.
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Apart from the little incident that had been enough to wipe his eternal grin off his face for just one, brief moment (as well as warrant a rather lengthy visit to the men's bathroom), Ichimaru Gin was enjoying himself. Really. The human world was so very different from the dull humdrum that plagued Las Noches, for even teasing or stirring up trouble among the various Arrancar to get them into either yelling or physical matches for his viewing pleasure (not a hard task at all) got boring. The human world was noisy, busy, brightly-lit with countless activities to engage in and sold so many sweets which he would never admit to loving.
Even better, running into his former colleague, Kuchiki Byakuya, in a ski lodge certainly nearly drove the "milk-squirt" incident out of his mind.
"Hiya, 6th – squad Captain!" Gin greeted cheerfully, paying no heed to the glare Byakuya was giving him. "Fancy seeing you here!"
"A pointless observation," Byakuya said disdainfully. He was impeccably good-looking in his black tuxedo, his tie perfectly straight and in place, just like a well-groomed gentleman and truly befitting a Kuchiki noble. "Soul Society and Las Noches being in the human world today was of common knowledge days ago."
Gin just had to chuckle at that. "Still the same, aren't you? Where's your sister, anyway? Haven't seen dear Rukia-chan in a long time. Didn't exactly say bye-bye to her in such a pretty way the last time we met, did I?"
Byakuya's eyes narrowed further as he gave Ichimaru a stare that would've sent anyone else running for their precious lives in the opposite direction.
"Kuchiki Rukia is not your concern," another voice – a female one – sounded behind the two men. They turned to see a dark-skinned young woman clad in red ski attire with a thick scarf wrapped around her neck. "Fancy a game, Ichimaru?"
"Yo there, Yoruichi," Gin greeted the former noble nonchalantly. His slitted eyes slid sideways to the billiard table that Byakuya had been playing pool on a few moments ago. "And a game sounds great. How 'bout it, 6th squad Captain?"
A Kuchiki noble never turned down a worthy challenge. Over the next hour, the two Shinigami played against each other, balls scattering with the impact from wooden poles before a target was flushed expertly down the hole. The match was intense enough to draw several spectators to the table. They were good, excellent in fact – Yoruichi vaguely wondered where the two men managed to derive such skill from.
"Nice one," Gin complimented after Byakuya had scored.
"It's your turn now," Byakuya replied.
Gin positioned himself, the pole perched perfectly between his thin fingers, and was about to hit before…
CRASH!
A small white-haired boy, looking no older than 12, flew in through the open window before landing unceremoniously onto the billiard table, sending balls everywhere, much to everyone's huge shock. Somehow the balls managed to avoid anyone except for three unfortunate not-quite humans.
Hitsugaya Toushiro spat out the last remaining ball before he could choke on it.
The Living World was noisy, busy, brightly-lit with countless activities to engage in and sold so many sweets which he would never admit to loving. It also seemed remarkably accident-prone enough to affect and embarrass Ichimaru Gin, the master of trickery and sarcasm.
Other than Aizen, of course.
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The patrons of the male toilet that day – specifically the patrons of the male toilet at around one o'clock that day – got the shock of their lives when five rather soaked men marched into the toilet all at the same time. They had to wonder at the white substance that was dripping off the said five men's hair. A few snickered. One even wanted to ask, but when he saw the profound fury that all of them were projecting through their eyes; he swallowed and thought the better of that idea. Instead, he hurriedly did his business and exited the toilet. He really didn't want to know.
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"Damn you! Just die!"
"Hah! Ya wish! I'll rip you a hole in your stomach and crush your skull into itsy bitsy pieces first!"
Following that were the sounds of swords clashing, shouts of victory, screams of pain, and war cries.
If anyone from either Soul Society or Hueco Mundo heard that, they would have immediately burst in to join the fight. Especially when the two persons engaged in the violent activity we dub as 'fighting' were Grimmjaw and Kurosaki Ichigo. However as such, there were only gasps of awe and small claps as the two battled it out...
... On two fighting consoles in the local arcade.
So far, the score had been 111 victories against 111 victories. Both agreed – or rather, shouted at the top of their voices, since the arcade was hardly a quiet place for exchange of information – that this would be their last game. Whoever won the match, would be the ultimate winner.
The game was near the ending, when the final scores would be tallied and the winner announced. No one in the audience seemed to be breathing. It was that intense. No one in the audience could quite say which one of the players was winner either. The scores raced close to each other, neither party allowed the other to get too ahead. Ichigo had a determined expression on his face, while Grimmjaw had on a slightly crazed look. The tension of the small area surround the two was palpable. Not that either of them noticed. They were too absorbed in colourful screen showing two fighters trying to off each other with a flurry of kicks, punches and loud war-cries.
Which was why at that exact moment, Murphy decided to send in his regards. He activated his most famous law.
Some random drunk bumped into one of the people in the crowd. And like a domino effect, the force of the bump travelled along the various bodies, until it reached the man standing closest to where the electrical plugs of the two consoles were. That said man was holding on to a bottle of coca cola and was just about to drink it.
The resulting effect of the force exerted by a bump was that the bottle flew out of his hand. After that, everything happened in slow succession. The contents of the three-quarter full bottle rushed out through the rather small opening, looking like an exuberant brown genie escaping from it's prison. Soon, gravity made itself known and pulled the beverage downwards.
Instantaneously at the precise moment when it touches the electrical socket, there was a sound of crackling, like a witch's laughter, and the two consoles which Kurosaki Ichigo and Grimmjaw happened to be using died.
Both stared with a horrified expression on their faces at the black screen.
No one in the audience moved, or said a thing.
Three seconds later, the lights in the arcade went out as well.
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Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia were enjoying themselves together.
The couple sat with their mouths interlocked, putting quite a great deal of enthusiasm in it that simple action. One would wonder if they were not trying to, perhaps, inhale each other. Some strange noises also came from both parties. Their hands flew everywhere, landing onto rather intimate parts of the body that would have been considered most improper to members of the general public. However, hidden in the safety and privacy of the hotel suite, the couple had no reservations whatsoever, and gave it their all in….pleasing each other.
"Ichigo," Rukia breathed in his ear, her eyes wide. "What…
"…are they doing?"
"They're kissing, you idiot," came the snappy retort. "Making out. Y'know?"
Ichigo and Rukia stared at each other, as the male and female leads on the huge movie screen fell backwards together. After which, the panel soon screened upwards at the ceiling of hotel, before panelling to the next scene (cars driving on the roads), vanishing the couple from view. Viewers in the large cinema hall, though, had no doubts what had transpired afterwards between "Angelica" and "James".
"You humans really have no shame in displaying such things, do you…?" Rukia mumbled, a furious blush threatening to creep up her neck.
"Oh shut up," Ichigo snapped, taking an extra long drink of his Coke. He determinedly focused on the various buildings that towered over the roads of New York, as shown on the screen. Heat had also turned his face red, giving anyone the impression that his head was on fire (he did have orange hair, after all) – if they could even see in the dark cinema, anyway. "You were the one who wanted to watch this romance movie crap in the first place."
After the arcade fiasco, (which had involved several violent outbursts by a certain blue-haired man after the blackout – Ichigo didn't even want to think or explain about that) Rukia had dragged him out for a movie, featuring a homely, love story. The sort she adored when reading manga books. Ichigo scoffed quietly, wondering why he had even allowed her to bring him here. There were more important things to worry about other than some stupid movie with people doing you-know-what.
Like finishing that goddamn console game.
"Anyway," he continued, now throwing popcorn into his mouth. " 'There're worsh shtuff in movies. 'Ou should see da M18 ones, all righ'."
"The what?" Rukia whispered, confused.
Ichigo swallowed his mouthful of popcorn. "M18 – movies that aren't meant for those below 18 years old."
"I am over 18."
"No kidding. You'll see a lot more making out and a lot more scenes more explicit than that one you saw and a hell lot of people without…" Ichigo trailed off, after speaking very fast. He reverted back to the movie, scowling through his discomfort at talking about such things to Rukia. At least the redness painted across her delicate features indicated she had heard quite enough to get the general, ahem, picture.
"Nii-sama would kill me if he knew I was seeing such things," Rukia commented, shuddering at her brother's potential reaction, and swore never to tell him of this outing with Kurosaki Ichigo. "Or…actually, he'd kill you."
"Me?!" Ichigo nearly shouted, earning himself several furious glares by the other patrons. "I mean…" He lowered his voice to a furious whisper. "Why should I be blamed for everything you do?"
"I do?" Rukia said, bristling at his tone.
"You dragged me here!"
"Well, you should've known they would be showing this sort of thing, you've been in the human world longer than I have!"
"You practically tore my arm off, pushing me into to buy tickets and into this theatre before I could say anything…"
"Such excu - !"
"OI! Will you two cut out whatever lovers' quarrel you're having? Show some consideration!" a deep male voice thundered behind them. The two immediately fell silent, sneaking a half-glance towards the thoroughly irate man behind them. They found the whole row glaring at them too.
A soft giggle penetrated their ears, even over the sound of the movie. A child's giggle.
"Mum, that nii-san and onee-chan were fighting like the boy and girl in the movie before… Maybe they'll go "mua mua" later on…"
The blushes coupled with the immense heat on their faces gave the impression the two youngsters were going to explode. Not that anyone really noticed - they fled the cinema theatre as the movie scene switched back to Angelica and James, in the aftermath of their previously-shown activities.
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For the first time, the toilets in Karakura town witness more mayhem in one day than they had in their whole lives.
Or they would have. Had toilets been alive in the first place.
Zaraki Kenpachi, in all his full two point two meters glory, garnered more attention than he would have liked when he entered the male toilet in a shopping centre. No one could actually blame the occupants though, for Kanpachi's rather... unique hairstyle and even more unique hair-accessories wasn't a common sight after all.
And anyway, a few death glares took care of the extra attentions he had.
Following that was the routine where he unzipped the current pair of strange blue trousers that he was wearing with a faint scowl on his face (he preferred his shinigami clothing – they were so much more comfortable) and began to deal with nature's call.
The deed done, he proceeded to zip back his pants. Just then, a small pink missile hit him and emitted a rather loud shriek.
"KEN-CHAN!"
The other occupants of the toilet had various reactions towards the small pink missile. One bald man in his forties took a startled step back from the urinal. Lady luck that day must have turned her back to him, for his left foot then ended up stepping onto a puddle of yellowish liquid and ever so predictably, he slipped, shrieking like a banshee all the way. With a 'thud', his bum landed on the bullseye of the said patch of yellow liquid.
Tears appeared at the corner of his eyes and streamed down his face.
"Oh my god! My Gucci pants!"
Not that Zaraki Kempachi noticed any of it. He was listening intently to the high-pitched babble that was emitted from one Yachiru's mouth.
Even used to her babble, Zaraki still didn't quite catch what the pink haired girl was trying to say. He heard the words 'competition', 'glasses-san' (which referred to Sousuke Aizen, Zaraki knew), 'blue-shiro'(that sixth Espada guy), and 'goggles-san' (Tousan Kaname).
And Zaraki didn't need to hear any more. A competition between the bad guys? A maniacal grin stretched across his face. He simply had to check it out for himself.
Zaraki Kenpachi took off immediately, leaving the crying wreck of a man on the men's toilet floor.
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In the meantime…
Kotetsu Isane sighed. The two bickering men behind her honestly didn't know when to quit. Hisagi Shuuhei and Kira Izuru weren't even bothering on keeping their volume down, unheeding of the stares they were attracting. She couldn't even make out what they were yelling about.
All she knew was that, a few minutes ago, the 4th division vice-captain had to rescue her two colleagues whom she wasn't all that familiar with, from an accident involving a duck, a pregnant woman and a bottle of beer. Right.
"By the way, Kotetsu-san," Kira croaked, his head in an "Hisagi armlock!" as dubbed by the perpetrator. "Are we going anywhere?"
"Well, I'm supposed to meet Unohana-taichou at this 'Metro' place…" Isane trailed off.
"Tai – I mean, Unohana-san!" Isane called as she spotted the older woman standing in front of the famous shopping store.
"Did you enjoy yourself, Isane?" the 4th division captain asked pleasantly as she approached.
"Well…" Isane cast a wry look at the two men behind her, who dangerously gave off the slight atmosphere of…. Well, their hands were kind of all over each other… Out of the corner of her eye, the blue-haired woman spotted an old woman shaking her head and covering her grandchildren's eyes as she shooed them away from the spectacle.
"Oh my," Unohana said in gentle surprise. "Hisagi-kun and Kira-kun, was it not?"
"OUCH! Er….yes!" Red formed across their faces as the two vice-captains recognised their superior. Abruptly, they snapped upright militantly.
"You'll attract even more attention with your formal behaviour, gentlemen," Unohana said with a sort of motherly amusement. "Would you care for a drink with both of us?"
"Oh, erm…."
"That's not very…"
After several rather unmanly hems and haws by the vice-captains of the Soul Society military force, the two men eventually agreed – after mild pressure – to accompany the two heads of the 4th division.
I can only imagine how low their inhibition is going to be, Isane thought wryly, already envisioning herself struggling with heavy arms across her shoulders, supporting two men high on extravagant amounts of booze.
They soon arrived at a posh bar, red and black being the general theme colours for this….place with a French name she couldn't pronounce. Silvery balls similar to ones of a disco spun slowly, almost hypnotically so. Perhaps it was the feel that the moderately-dim lighting of the bar gave off, but Isane felt an odd tingling in her nerves. Tingling of a rather potent element of….danger?
" AAAARRGGGHHH!!"
The woman barely registered the yell which brought her so abruptly to reality when she was pulled sideways. A third person's point of view would have noted the blond vice-captain slipping on a piece of lace by the doorway, grabbing his friend out of pure, protective instinct to prevent himself from slamming solid ground, who in turn grabbed the nearest person to him – Kotetsu Isane.
Only that it wasn't solid ground they rammed into – but much, much worse.
Isane was standing upright one moment, then toppling over a certain something – or rather, someone unfortunate enough to be seated right next the door that day.
"Ack…ow…" Sounds of mild pain and discomfort escaped her lips before she realized she was lying rather precariously across something. Someone's….lap?
"It appears I have run into you again, Isane-kun, even though I said I doubted I would meet you or your captain again."
She froze. And lifted her head to stare into the eyes of Aizen Sousuke.
Her mouth fell open.
"Although I would never have expected our meeting to arrive in a form such as this," Aizen stated, his eyebrow raised, the beginnings of a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth.
Yet, there was a hint of irritation at the awkward position Isane had assumed, lying across the Aizen's lap (the second accident of the day for the Arrancar overlord, but she didn't know that).
Isane's brain recovered enough of its normal mental functions to propel her to scramble to her feet, though her speech faculties only permitted odd, incoherent noises to escape her throat.
To her intense embarrassment (as highlighted by the furious flush burning up her entire face), pulling oneself up from another's lap was more awkward and difficult than she could have imagined. A pair of strong, firm hands held her shoulders and pushed her upright
Contrary to her meek nature, Isane could only manage an embarrassed glare at the by-now thoroughly amused man instead of stuttering apologies and thanks. She turned away, cheeks burning with heated shame – to the situations of Aizen Sousuke's loyal subordinates, Tousen Kaname and Ichimaru Gin.
Hisagi was fortunate he landed on his former captain's lap – in a strange sense of the word – because Tousen Kaname was not one for malicious teasing nor wickedly amused stares (no pun intended).
"Tousen-tai – god, no, dammit, sorry, I mean…" Hisagi stumbled helplessly over his words as the dark-haired man assisted in pulling his former lieutenant off his lap.
Retsu Unohana internally listed out several ways of treating mental trauma.
…Poor Kira.
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A/N: We would like you to review after reading. While you are at it, you may suggest the other Bleach characters we should feature. Should our wims will it and our muse find it amusing, you will see them in the next chapter.