Notes:
I love the idea of Nemu and Ishida as a couple, they have great canon interaction and Nemu especially needs some kind of happiness in her life. I love Mayuri, but the guy is a douche, and Ishida is like her knight in shining armour. No sex in this one, just a cute little Christmas tale of long distance lover, gifts, family and of course fashion, can't go wrong with fashion *grin*
Years ago
Shutting the door behind her, Nemu ducked inside her private quarters, the package in her hand, wrapped in simple brown paper, crinkled as she placed it on the small table and knelt to open it. She'd brought it on a whim in her spare time wondering the store of Rukongai. They were all decked out grandly for the Christmas season, with the bright colours and lights she was drawn like a moth to a flame. Cruising through the stores, she let her fingers touch every surface, every corner of decorated boxes and tangle in the streams of coloured ribbon. Finally she'd decided on something, something small, something she could hide if need be. While Mayuri didn't usually care for her personal items and desires, on certain occasions when he's temper flared he could be most destructive. But she could hide this, keep it on her person if need be.
The wrapping peeled back and inside sat a candle. A beautifully crafted one, with swirls of gold and silver in-laid in the most beautiful pattern. It had caught her eye immediately, she loved the colour gold, whether it be her connection with her creator (who also loved that colour) or simply her own preference, it sparkled in the store window and she just adored it. Using her merger wages she purchased it and snuck it home as fast as she could. Lighting the wick, she watched the first pearly droplet roll down the steep slope to pool at the base. It was enchanting, the mild heat radiated against her face as she lent in closer to watch it burn. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
"Nemu, I swear if you're wasting time with that damn prototype again" Mayuri's voice echoed around the room, as he stormed in. Nemu paused, frozen as Mayuri's golden eyes grew wide as he stormed forward and extinguished the candle, swiping it off the table. He snapped it in half, kicking it aside as he frown down at her.
"Are we living in the stone age?" She didn't reply, he took her arm roughly, heaving her to her feet "Are we? No! Candles are for peasants, simpletons, we are scientists! A higher level of intelligence" he glanced at the crumpled candle "we don't need simple things like candles. Now hurry up and clean up this mess, we have the transfer to complete."
Striding to the door, he slam the slide shut, leaving Nemu, sitting at the table with the remains of her crumpled precious gift.
Present day
Ishida kicked the pavement, the winter chill breezed through his thin jacket. The bright street lights over head streamed light down on the side-walk as people filed past him. The Christmas rush was in full swing, with people taking to the streets in mass groups of family and friends celebrating the Christmas season. Christmas was horrid, Christmas was a time highlighted to be spent with family, and those closest to you. Ishida didn't want any of it, what was left of his family, his father, inspired no feelings of bonding or festive kinship. Fathers sucked.
Turning a corner, he bumped into a woman, apologising he slipped along side a window, the display catching his eye. Long strips of red and green ribbon hung down in lengths from the top of the sill. It was a stunning colour the seamstress in him called out, but it made him think of her. There would be another unhappy soul this Christmas, especially concerning her father. Nemu Kurotsuchi daughter of the insanely evil Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi. She'd not been unkind to him in the brief moments they'd shared together, and she generally seemed of much better nature then her father/creator.
Would Soul Society celebrate Christmas? He thought walking into the store to inspect the ribbon. The beautiful scarlet in contrast with harsh metallic green would be perfect for lace work, around a neck line, like how Nemu wore hers. He jerked his hand back, twice in the as many minutes he'd thought of that Shinigami, frowning he fled the store, storming out into the vast crowds of people.
Arriving at his apartment, Ishida checked his answering machine as he went to kitchen, dinner box hand. The click of the tape resounded as the machine spoke:
You have one new message.
"Uryū" Ishida froze as his father's calm tones echoed through the speaker "The hospital is holding its annual Christmas Party this Thursday, you are as always invited to attend, formal attire if you please" The machine clicked off. Kneeling at the table, Ishida cursed the very idea, he hated the hospital's social functions, he was only there as a symbol of the owner's legacy. A handsome, intelligent young man always well mannered, well dressed, daddy's perfect little boy. It made him sick. He had pride of course and would always regardless would have spoken and acted in kindness to anyone who addressed him. But singing his father's praise for an entire evening irk him even more then his current long standing friendship with the Shinigami. He should call his father back, during his out of office hours just to ensure he wouldn't have to speak with him and leave a message saying he couldn't go. But that'd mean he'd win, a small voice interjected at the back of his mind, don't bow to him, it's what he wants. Ishida decided then and there he would attend the party, if not only to spite this father.
It could have been worse he reminded himself, the dark empty streets zooming past below him. A Hallow could have crashed the party, or the sky could have fallen. Instead he somehow managed to avoid his father for the entire evening, almost. While several members of the female nursing staff questioned Ishida on his age and current single status, his father had interjected, cruising smoothly across the room, the designer suit fitting perfect, making even Ishida in his hand made outfit feel undressed. Ushering the ladies off with a careful hand, he turned his attentions to his son.
"I shall be working Christmas eve, would you care for Christmas lunch together?" It would have been touching, if it hadn't been a hollow promise. They'd been through this song and dance ever since Ishida's mother had passed away. With Ishida arriving at the restaurant and waiting for sometimes hours only to have his father call and explain he'd been held up at work. He'd fallen for it five years running, but not this year.
"No, but thank you" turning to leave, a hand descended on his shoulder
"Uryū, it is Christmas" Dark blue eyes clashed as Ishida stared his father down, with relative success.
"I'm sorry father, but I have a prior arrangement" Raising his eyebrows Ryūken stared questioningly at his son.
"Really? Where?" Ishida looked away.
"I don't believe that's any of your concern"
"Don't lie to me son" Pulling away, Ishida left without explanation, he was the bigger man, he didn't need the last word.
Yet now he was storming around the streets of Karakura Town, just begging for a fight, to feel the rush of adrenaline to take the edge of his anger. Unfortunately or somewhat fortunately there was nothing but humans and cats walking the streets. Darting past the main street he'd visited during the week, he paused mild air to enjoy the Christmas displays. Lights and various decorations covered everything, tasteful in its festive glamour. Jumping down to the empty street, Ishida rediscovered the window with the ribbons. There were still a selection hanging from the display, the dull background of the night highlighting its original beauty. Touching fingertips to the glass, he's thoughts neglected his father and returned once again to Nemu. What would she be doing this Christmas? If indeed Soul Society even celebrated the event. And even if they did Ishida doubt she would partake in any activities, let alone be allowed to. Sighing he realised sadly that while he had lied to his father for the sake of winning the conversation, he would be doing nothing this Christmas. Pulling his hand back from the cold glass, he had made a decision. Even if he'd be lonely and disconnected this Christmas, maybe he could make someone else's better.
It'd taken him a whole three days, steadily working in his free time between school and Hollow hunting. It was prefect, just what he'd envisioned when he'd finally got his hands on that ribbon. The seasonal winter kimono was a deep red, edged with the delicate bright red and green ribbon with a thin purple sash, patterned with a small but elegant floral design. Having nothing but his memory to work from, he prayed the measurements were correct, especially since it wasn't like he could go waltzing into Soul Society at his leisure and make alterations. Folding it carefully, he wrapped the light pink tissue paper around it in a professional looking bundle. Now came the hard part.
The chill of the evening was just setting in, with the dark clouds dispersing across the sky, giving an almost closed in atmosphere. Ishida stepped across the open sky and roof tops until he saw the tale tell sign of Urahara's store. If he was lucky, very very lucky Yoruichi may have been making a final trip into Soul Society before settling down for the holiday period with her family. That or perhaps one of the local Shinigami representatives could be ducking back and forth between the worlds. It was a long shot, but he had to try, he was determined to complete his goal.
Arriving at the small shop and home, a place which he felt he'd spent far too much time unconscious in. He knocked politely at door and waited. A small figure slide the door open, Jinta's bright red hair was slicked back in its current fashion with a thick jumper, several times too large for him hampering his movements.
"Four eyes huh? What can we do you for-" He was cut of as Urahara himself appeared, tapping the boy sharply on the head with his fan.
"Really Jinta, you know the man well enough to at least address him by name" The shadowed eyes of the shopkeeper fell on Ishida, "but he does have a point, what can we do you for"
"You live to get on my every nerve you know that don't you?"
"Yes Mayuri-sama"
Ducking the flying projectile, Nemu stood back, out of arms reach as her Captain, her father and her creator was in quite a mood.
"I do ever so hate it when the gates are opened and I'm not informed, do people think I won't find out?" Exhaling sharply through his teeth, the make up on his face twisting as he typed quickly through lines and lines of data.
"It'll be that bastard Urahara, mark my words Nemu, I will see that man dead"
"Yes Mayuri-sama" Swinging around, Mayuri paused his rant to address his lieutenant, "I will finish up here, you will retire and recuperate for tomorrow's training simulation. Go!" Turning his attention back to the screen, the world could have been burning and he would not have noticed. Nemu bowed slightly and left, walking down the now deserted halls of the Squad Twelve headquarters.
Sliding open the door to her room, she froze, aware something was not right. Someone had entered her domain. No one would usually dare of intruding within her quarters. Often she found on most accounts others were as scared of her as they were her Captain. The plainly furnished room looked just as it should, except for the bright pink package that sat in the centre of her bed. Frowning she cautiously walked forward, paranoia rising its head. It could be a trick, or an experiment Mayuri wished view. Kneeling she gently reached out and touched the tiny card that balanced on top. The plain text, written in a neat hand simply stated
Merry Christmas Nemu
Quincy
Quincy? Ishida Uryū was the only Quincy she knew to any extent, pulling her hand back quickly as though she expected it to bite her, she frowned. This was definitely Mayuri form of a trick. Picking up the package carefully, she judged the weight and was surprised at the light, material nature. Intrigued she put it down again and reached for the card. It was a plain white card, with the single message written in ball point pen. Tearing the corner slightly, she peeked inside, red fabric was all she saw, tearing the entire side apart, she reached inside and within the contents.
She frozen as it unfolded, a winter kimono of the most beautiful shade of red, with ribbons for decoration and an accompanying sash of purple with flowers. Quincy – Ishida, Ishida Uryū had done this? For her?
Standing her shuffled out of her uniform, kicking it off quickly and replacing it with the soft woollen weave of the material. Clumsily fastening the sash, she let her fingers follow the ribbon lining around her neck and down to the sleeves. Smoothing her hands down the front, she turned back and forth, wishing desperately she had a mirror in her quarters. Not wanting to risk the discovery of her gift she would wait until tomorrow to get a better look. It was perfect, holding a deep sleeve to her nose, she inhaled the scent; a light soap, with a hint of personal musk she would now identify was Quincy. Lowering her hand, she noticed a strain on the sleeve, marring the otherwise flawless fabric. Brushing her finger against it, she felt the damp smear, only then coming to the realisation that she was crying.
Christmas morning came far to quickly for Ishida's liking, laying in bed for the day seemed the best option. But not getting up for hours and just lazing around wasn't his nature and soon he became bored. Sitting up groggily he retrieved his glasses from his bedside table, only to have his hand brush something foreign. Beyond the bottle of water, book, clock and glasses he usually kept on his table, the presents of the brightly coloured wrapping paper put him on edge. Picking up the heavy, oddly shaped gift, he shook it twice, feeling the weight shift solidly. Glancing around for a card he found none and simply giving in to the temptation to open it. Methodically un-sticking the tape, he removed the object from inside.
A single candle. Gold and silver in colour, with intricate patterns masterly crafted into the sides. Trailing his fingers around it, he turned the it around and around, searching for a clue to it's giver. At the bottom was stuck a small post-it note of paper with elegant kanji printed:
Merry Christmas Quincy
Nemu