Useless Notes: This story is patterned after Stephen King's short story, "The Wedding Gig". It tells the story of a five-man jazz group who were hired by a local mafia boss to play at his sister's wedding reception.
I changed a couple of details for this story here (like the dialogue- I think it's a bit too modern for the 30's), I added some of my own original scenes, and in true crazyarsonist fashion, I'm making it longer.
I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed doing it and that you'll tell me what you thought about the story. Well anyway, that's it. Thanks for choosing to read this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach; that belongs to Sir Kubo Tite. I don't own the title "The Wedding Gig" or its storyline either; that belongs to Sir Stephen King.
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The Wedding Gig
There was a time way back in the 1930's; a time when jazz groups ruled the local joints and its streets, booking into every bar they could to scrape a little money off the owners to feed themselves. Most of these bands performed for the money, some did it just to make a name for themselves, while those in between did it for both.
One such jazz group was the Kuchiki and the Brothers Brass, a five-man team with Kira Izuru on the piano, Abarai Renji on the drums, Madarame Ikkaku on the trombone, Ayasegawa Yumichika on the cornet and the lone girl, Kuchiki Rukia on the trumpet.
They made it pretty big back then in their time and were always booked by an Urahara Kisuke in his bar, Greenbacks. The man liked their sound and got them to play in his place at every opportunity he got.
Tonight, on a chilly October Thursday night, the band was playing with all they had, and even Kira seemed to be enjoying himself, as the five shot glasses on his piano were shaking. The ice cubes were clinking noisily against their containers, keeping in time to the beat.
Urahara knew how to pay them for their gigs; a sample of his best drink on the house for all of them. The band paid him back with a guaranteed full house each night they performed.
Tonight, it was just like any other: a full house.
The group had just finished their fourth number of the night: the slow, sentimental "Roses in the Springtime", when a visibly smiling Urahara came over with his bottle and refilled the empty shot glasses sitting on Kira's piano.
"You look happy tonight, Urahara-san," Rukia grinned, wiping the mouthpiece of her trumpet.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he replaced the cover of his bottle with a smile. "The whole place is full and I still got customers waiting for a table outside! It's heaven, I tell you, heaven every single time you guys come here to play."
"Well of course you're the only happy one around here," Renji was heard from behind his drum set. "You're gettin' all the money outta this one, while we're just getting drunk."
The group broke into healthy laughter and Kira picked up his glass to take a sip.
"This one's new," he observed as soon as he put his glass back down.
"It's good," Ikkaku nodded after downing his glass.
"Of course it is Trombone-san," Urahara chuckled. "There's nothing new here that isn't good."
"Whatever you say man," the bald player shrugged. "Refill?"
"Ah-ah," the manager wagged a finger at them. "Maybe after one more number or two… And if you ask me, play something livelier; your audience came here to get rid of their problems, not to be reminded of them."
The bar owner winked and tipped his hat to them before going back to his counter, his new drink in hand.
"The bastard," Ikkaku stared down forlornly at his empty glass. "I'm bustin' my ass out here for what? A shot?! As if I can feed myself with his lousy shots!"
"I'm tellin' ya, we should start chargin' him money the next time we come here to play," Renji grunted and adjusted his drums. "Some actual greenbacks would be nice."
"Oh calm down you two," Yumichika, their bandleader, shushed them both. "The next sets won't be beautiful with you two brutes tensed up like that."
Rukia smirked and stuck her tongue out at Renji, who gave her a face in return.
"Saa, saa," Kira smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Something livelier's what Urahara-san wants, so why don't we do 'Afternoons with You'?"
"The perfect piece Kira-kun!" Yumichika readied his instrument. "Now a one and a two and go!"
And with that, the five played on their instruments, causing the drunkards to hum along noisily to the song and the sober ones to pick up their partners and dance. Those who didn't have partners (Urahara), danced on their own.
The band played on and was rewarded with applause and a drink from the manager after every number. By their ninth number, everyone decided that it was time for a little mellow tunes and so, Kuchiki and the Brothers Brass complied, playing slow, schmaltzy pieces from the ninth number on.
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"Say, you guys play pretty good," an orange-blonde haired woman walked up to them once the band ended their show.
"Thanks," Kira replied, keeping his eyes on the set of piano sheets he was fixing.
"Matsumoto Rangiku," she introduced herself. "Charmed, I'm sure."
And that was when Kira turned around in his piano stool to take a look at her. She was tall, had a pretty face with equally pretty hair decorating it and a voice sultry enough to make any man swoon and lose track of his heartbeat.
But the definite stand-out anyone could see was her chest. The blouse she wore seemed a bit too tight for her and her breasts were on the point of bursting out of it (And boy, did she have big boobs, Kira thought, a blush making its way across his face). Then he regained his senses and introduced himself and the others as well.
"Ah… Kira Izuru," he started and swung around to wave an arm to his other band mates. "That's Madarame Ikkaku, Ayasegawa Yumichika, Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Rukia."
"Yo," Ikkaku half-waved, half-saluted.
"Hey there handsome," Matsumoto waved back at him.
But Ikkaku only raised an eyebrow and snorted back in reply.
'Man, what a weirdo,' he thought. 'But she sure is one pretty gal… Why do all the lookers have to be weirdos dammit…'
"Hm. Someone's looking grumpy tonight," she noted, glancing at Ikkaku.
"Aw leave 'im alone Matsumoto-san," Renji said. "This isn't really one of Ikkaku-san's nights after all."
"Honey, you can call me Rangiku if you want," she winked at Renji. "Everyone does."
"A-aa, hai," the drum player flushed and loosened his collar. Since when did it get so hot anyway? "Ra- Rangiku-san it is then… Er."
"First time I've seen Renji-kun like this with a girl," Yumichika leaned over and whispered to Kira.
"That's because Kuchiki-san's watching this from over there," Kira sniggered.
Ikkaku heard Kira's comment and he burst out laughing. Rukia also heard it, but her reaction was far from the trombone player's.
"Renji-kun, was it?" Matsumoto asked and made a move to go up the stage.
"Gomen Matsumoto-san," Rukia said through gritted teeth. "But only band members are allowed on stage."
Urahara, who was on his way towards the stage to give them a refill, caught Rukia's comment and immediately turned around with a puzzled look on his face.
"Ah forgive me, Kuchiki-san," Matsumoto giggled and clambered down from the stage. Renji let out a loud sigh of relief from the back; Matsumoto was getting too much for his heart anyway and besides, who knew what Rukia would do to him later?
"Well Renji-kun, it seems that we can't even have ourselves a decent little chat here, since the stage is for…" she paused and looked at Rukia, an evil gleam in her eyes. "… band members only. Na, Kuchiki-san?"
Rukia didn't even bother to answer that statement; the steam was practically flying out of her ears.
Kira and Ikkaku in the meantime, seemed to find this all very amusing.
"Chick fight!" Ikkaku gleefully whispered to Kira.
"With Renji in the middle!" Kira replied.
Ikkaku chortled loudly, while Yumichika rolled his eyes.
"Don't turn this into a comedy you two," he scolded. "It's definitely not beautiful."
"A-anou… I'm really sorry about… this… er… Rangiku-san," Renji stuttered. "Maybe… maybe we can talk again sometime?"
"Okay then!" Matsumoto chirped. "How 'bout later tonight in my bedroom?"
"E- EH?!" Renji exclaimed and threw a panicked glance at Rukia.
"How about I turn my trumpet upside your head?!" Rukia threatened, stalking her way over to Matsumoto.
"Eeh!" Matsumoto feigned shock. "So rude, Kuchiki-san!"
"Go for it, Kuchiki!" Ikkaku cheered.
"Gambatte, Kuchiki-san!" Kira added.
"Don't encourage her!" Renji hissed.
"Tsk. So not beautiful," Yumichika shook his head.
"So, how 'bout it cowboy?" Matsumoto looked over at Renji seductively. "You coming by later?"
"E-eto Rangiku-san, I- I don't really think we should-"
"Aw, what's the matter Renji-kun?" she teased. "Are you scared of Kuchiki-san over there? It's okay baby, Rangiku'll take care of you."
At this point, Matsumoto had (somehow) already gotten herself up on the stage and began fingering Renji's collar. Renji was sweating rivers and his blush had covered his entire face already; Rukia was watching Matsumoto's every move and gripped her trumpet tightly, just in case. Her temper was rising and Ikkaku and Kira didn't do a thing to cool her down. The two just laughed themselves silly, while Yumichika was watching the whole drama with unamused eyes.
"Naa, Renji-kun," Matsumoto plopped herself down on one of his drums. "Teach me how to play these things sometime?"
"A-anou… you're going to wreck my drum sets, Rangiku-san."
"And you're going to break my trumpet too if no one's going to stop me!" Rukia's temper had already flared and flew off the charts. She now raised her trumpet in a very menacing way over a very frightened Matsumoto.
In her panic, Matsumoto dove straight onto Renji's lap.
"Renji-kun!" Matsumoto tightened her grip on Renji's neck.
"Renji!" Rukia growled and that was when everyone knew that she had gone beyond all sense of reasoning. "Matsumoto!!"
"Rukia!" Renji waved his arms frantically.
"… Oi. Think we should stop her?" Ikkaku whispered to Kira.
"… Nah," Kira whispered back.
The two doubled up in laughter again, while Yumichika sighed.
"I'll head on over to the men's room," their bandleader said and hopped off the stage.
"Hurry it up Yumi or you'll miss the show!" Ikkaku yelled after his friend.
"Rukia wait, be reasonable; let's talk this over and- AAH!"
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Yumichika exited the bathroom, adjusted his necktie and maneuvered his way across the bar. His eyes took a momentary glance towards the stage and to his relief, found that the mess had been sorted out.
Renji was trying to pacify a still-incensed Rukia, while Ikkaku and Kira were engaged in a conversation with Urahara. Kira's deft hands were slowly gliding across the piano keys, playing an improvised piece as he talked along with Ikkaku.
Yumichika's eyes moved to the side, trying to look for the woman who had been tormenting Renji earlier. He did and his face crumpled in slight disgust as soon as he saw her. She was picking on a small, white-haired boy seated over at the bar counter and by the looks of things, it looked as if he wasn't reciprocating. If she still had time to see other guys, then he didn't see any reason for Renji to spend his time in getting to know her better.
What was a kid doing inside the bar anyway?
"Oi." Yumichika heard a voice from his left. He turned at the sound and saw a large, muscular man in shades sitting all by himself on a table. He wore a nice white suit and by the cut of his hair and the neat trim of his moustache, Yumichika could tell that this guy was something big.
"You play with 'em, don't ya?" The man jerked his head towards the stage. Yumichika followed the direction he pointed to and nodded.
"What about it?"
"You guys free this Sunday?"
The bandleader thought about it for a few minutes. Sunday. Four days from now. The only free day they would be having that week.
"Iie," he shook his head. "We don't do gigs on Sundays."
"Look kid," the man got up from his chair. "Maybe you know me and maybe you don't, but the name's Iba Tetsuzaemon."
"Iba Tetsuzaemon?" Yumichika knew the name.
Iba Tetsuzaemon was a small-time mob boss who had a few towns under his belt and a lot of dead men to his name.
"You got that right," he huffed and crossed his arms.
Yumichika glanced at the stage. Ikkaku met his gaze and immediately got up from his stool once he saw who "Yumi" was talking to. Yumichika shook his head, causing Ikkaku to frown. The bald man looked at the Mafioso's back, then back to Yumichika's face.
"You sure?" his eyes seemed to ask.
"Trust me on this one, Ikkaku." Yumichika's eyes replied. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"Hmph. If you say so."
And Ikkaku sat himself back down on the stool, although a bit hesitantly. None of the other band members, or Urahara saw what happened.
Iba, who must have seen the look Yumichika gave the stage, cleared his throat to force the man's eyes towards him.
"Look, let's take this outside."
"I see no reason why we can't continue this conversation in here."
Iba flushed and his mob boss attitude kicked in.
"Look," he growled in a low voice, leaning across the table to try and intimidate Yumichika. "Outside. Now."
However, it didn't have any effect on the other man.
"Fine." He shrugged and allowed Iba to lead the way. He threw another look behind him and it relieved him when he saw that only Ikkaku had his eyes trained on him.
It relieved him further when Ikkaku stayed glued to his seat, despite the terrible want to stand up and go with Yumichika.
It was probably for the best that Ikkaku didn't give in to his fighter instincts. It wouldn't be beautiful at all if he picked a fight with a mob boss like Iba Tetsuzaemon, Yumichika reckoned.
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The air outside bit like a mad dog and Yumichika had to wrap his suit tightly around himself to keep warm.
"I got a job for your band." Iba started, apparently ignoring the sudden change in temperature. "My little sister's tying the knot this Sunday an' we're holdin' her reception down at the Morisato Hall at Kamina Avenue. All you clowns have to do is play at the reception. I heard you play inside and I thought it wasn't really half-bad."
"Good taste."
"Two grand," Iba continued. "Keep half for yourself an' split the other half with the rest or divide it equally among yourselves. I don't care what you do with the money, but two grand's what I'm gonna give you."
"Two grand huh." Yumichika repeated.
Two grand. Equivalent to a month's worth of gigs and here he was, being offered the same amount for a single night. But, there was a problem.
"Two grand." Yumichika turned to face Iba. "That's too much for one gig. Why?"
"Two reasons," Iba grunted. "Maybe you hearda Soifon."
Yumichika nodded. Soifon was another big name in the underworld criminal industry; another small-time mob boss. She was Iba's rival in the business and true to rival fashion, she was also as hot-headed and influential as he.
"Then maybe you hearda the accident her own little sister was involved in not too long ago."
"Hinamori Momo?"
"Yeah, that girl." Iba nodded. "She had the hots for one 'a my boys- Hisagi Shuuhei. Problem was, he didn't like her the way she liked him and fell for my sister instead. Then one night, she decided to tell him her feelings at the corner of Eight and Nine. Unfortunately for her, he was already engaged to my sister. So, when he told her he was already engaged, she broke down an' Hisagi turned and left. She followed him across the street, but…"
"She got run over by a truck."
Iba nodded. "Poor girl. I feel for her, really I do, but what happened that night was just an accident, plain and simple. But Soifon didn't see it that way. When she found out what happened, she killed the trucker who ran Hinamori- may God bless her soul- down, an' she's promised me that me an' my boys'll be going next."
"And you think she'll fulfill that promise on Sunday?"
"Pretty much."
"So in other words, you're paying us that much, because this gig is going to be our last."
"Aw come on," Iba reasoned. "You got me an' twenty-nine of my other boys at the reception. Sixty eyes on the lookout an' sixty guns for the protection. Don't tell me that's not enough security for your band."
"Hm."
"If anyone funny sniffs around inside, we'll make sure he doesn't stick his nose in a second time." Iba promised.
"You said you had two reasons?" Yumichika raised two of his fingers.
"It's my sister." Iba lowered his voice. "She's not exactly the sociable type."
"Oh?"
"She has a tendency to just space out at random times an' she hardly talks. When she does though, she sounds like a robot. She has this great deal of respect for everybody an' even when she an' Hisagi got engaged, she continued calling him 'Sir'. I'm the only one she talks to without using any honorifics.
"But don't get me wrong here, I love her to hell an' I'd do anything for her. Even when I know that the other bosses are laughin' behind my back."
"How sweet." Yumichika muttered dryly.
"Hm."
"So what did Hisagi-san do to get her to marry him? I hear he's quite the conversationalist… And with her, I don't think-"
"That," Iba growled menacingly. "Is none of your business. Now, are you going to play for me or not?"
"Sure." Yumichika answered. "If the big, bad mob boss says so."
"I'm not playing around here boy." Yumichika saw the rage and anger in his face and decided that he was just one taunt away from being blown into Kingdom Come. There was no denying the heavy-duty revolver that sat in Iba Tetsuzaemon's belt anyway.
"Hai, hai," he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, big boy. We'll be there."
"That's the spirit." Iba grinned and relaxed. "Just one more thing."
Yumichika looked at him expectedly.
"I hear one wisecrack- just one- from you or your boys about my sister or anythin' else an' I'll break your jaws in. Are we clear on this, Cornet-san?"
"We don't talk much during our gigs," Yumichika answered. "All the wise guys in my group have their mouths on their instruments. The other wise guy's got to keep his head in the beat, so he doesn't talk much either."
"Hmph." Iba grunted and Yumichika knew that the conversation was about to end. "Morisato Hall this Sunday. Be there."
And with that, Iba turned around, got into his car and drove off into the night. Yumichika sighed, loosened his tie and went back inside to orient the others.
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"Wow, imagine Iba Tetsuzaemon asking us to play for 'im," Renji said in amazement. "Iba Tetsuzaemon asking us to play for 'im! This is so cool!"
"And you said YES?" Kira wailed hysterically, causing the other patrons of the bar to look at their table.
Ikkaku gave them a scowl and they immediately turned away.
"Ayasegawa-san, what were you thinking?!" Kira ranted. "One wrong note and we'll all be killed!"
"I don't really think we'll be gunned down or anything," Rukia said. "If that mob boss guy says he wants us to play, then we'll play. I mean, there must be a reason why he chose us, right?"
"Absolutely, Rukia-chan!" Yumichika nodded. "And besides Kira-kun, you're the best piano player this town has!"
"Yeah," Renji agreed. "An' if in case anything bad happens, you got me an' Ikkaku-san lookin' out for ya."
"But… but… That's THIRTY armed men, Renji- THIRTY!" Kira sputtered.
"Thirty?" Renji snorted. "Back in the day, me an' Ikkaku-san did like what- fifty?"
"Fifty." Ikkaku confirmed and sipped on his drink.
"Fifty." Renji turned back to his friend. "We danced with fifty armed men before, so how can we not stand thirty?"
"But Renji-"
"Relax man," the drummer grinned. "I won't let anyone leave that building with an extra hole in their bodies. I promise."
"We- well… if you put it that way…"
"It's settled then!" Yumichika clapped his hands. "Everyone's okay with the gig, so we're going. Okay, everyone?"
Everyone at the table agreed.
"I'll go tell Urahara-san of the change in schedule," Rukia stood up and went over to the counter.
"Kira and I'll start the van," Renji said and clapped Kira on the shoulder.
Yumichika stood up to go with Rukia and explain things to Urahara, but before he could leave the table, a strong hand held back his wrist.
"Yumichika." Ikkaku muttered and put down his glass. "You okay with this?"
"I'll be fine, Ikkaku, don't worry," Yumichika smiled down at his friend. "Besides, we obviously need the money, ne?"
"Yumi." Ikkaku looked up at him and made sure he was listening. "I won't let you leave that place with a hole in you either."
He smiled. "I know you won't, Ikkaku."
"Just as long as you know that." The bald man let go of the wrist and stood up. "I'll be with the others outside."
Yumichika watched Ikkaku walk outside and smiled again. He saw Rukia run over to him and he knew that the news had been delivered.
"And?" Yumichika asked and they began walking towards the door.
"He says he's going to go bankrupt if we don't come back."
"Typical," he laughed. And Rukia found herself laughing along with him, even until they entered the van.
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Sunday, four forty-seven at the Morisato Hall.
"Whooee," Renji whistled as soon as he set up his drums. "Manoman, this place is huge!"
"Tell me about it," Rukia agreed. "I wonder if I can hear my echo in here."
She opened her mouth to shout something to prove this theory, but was stopped by Kira.
"I don't think you should, Kuchiki-san," he said. "We don't know what'll happen once they hear us."
"You're right," Rukia answered. "Coulda been fun though."
"Are you the band Iba-san hired for tonight?" a new voice came from the entrance of the venue.
"What are you looking at me for?!" Rukia glared at Renji.
"Thought Kira told you to shut up."
"That wasn't me, you moron!"
"Ahem," the voice coughed.
Renji turned around to the direction of the sound and blushed in embarrassment.
"Oh. Right."
"Who are you?" Ikkaku asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ise Nanao," the bespectacled woman replied. "I take care of Iba-san's office business."
"Ah, a secretary!" Rukia's eyes lit up in pride at getting it correctly.
The woman nodded. "You are the band Iba-san hired for tonight, correct?"
"No. Actually, we're the caterers," Renji replied, rolling his eyes.
Everyone turned to look at him in shock (Ikkaku, Kira and Rukia) and annoyance (Yumichika and Nanao).
"What?" Renji defended himself. "We got the drums and the piano set up already at the stage and she still asks if we're the band?!"
"You must forgive him," Yumichika sighed. "Renji-kun got off to a bad start this morning."
"No kidding," Ikkaku agreed, remembering when he and Renji got into a shouting match a few minutes ago over the directions.
"Hmm," Kira nodded, remembering that shout-fest all too well.
"I just needed to confirm that," Nanao explained. "Iba-san's been getting death threats from Soifon lately and we just want to make sure the venue was already being invaded by her gang this early on."
"'We'?" Rukia repeated and looked around.
Then suddenly, two shadows entered the same way Nanao did.
"Who are those?" Kira asked, as soon as he caught sight of their guns.
"Kotsubaki Sentaro and Kotetsu Kiyone. They work for Iba-san."
"Darnnit," the taller shadow grumbled. "And I thought we were in for a fight."
"Be thankful we weren't," the shorter one spoke up. "Besides, if we were invaded this early in the evening, I don't think you'd stand a chance."
"Oh yeah?!" the man yelled. "Just who do you think you are, Kotetsu?!"
"Shut your trap Kotsubaki!" she yelled back.
"You two calm down," Nanao sighed, pushing up her glasses. "Go back to Iba-san and tell him the venue's safe."
"Will do, Ise-san!" Kotsubaki saluted.
"You can count on us, Ise-san!" Kotetsu saluted too.
"Kotetsu you pipsqueak, that was my line, dammit!" Kotsubaki yelled at her as they went out.
"Too bad, Kotsubaki. I said it first!" she yelled back.
The band could only look at Nanao in confusion.
"You're tellin' me that these guys work for the famous Iba Tetsuzaemon?" Ikkaku grunted. "Sound like a bunch of whack jobs, those two."
"They're always like this," Nanao sighed. "But when they draw their guns, you'd best stay out of the way. Their trigger fingers are quite hard to control."
"Heh," Renji scoffed. "Was that a threat?"
"It was a warning," Nanao replied.
"Didn't sound like one to me," Ikkaku smirked, drawing out a gun of his own from his side.
"You got that right, Ikkaku-san," Renji grinned his shark-grin, drawing out his gun from his back.
"You two have pieces?!" Kira exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock, while Rukia's eyes played ping-pong; darting from Nanao, to Renji and to Ikkaku.
"Who's making the threats now?" Nanao smiled coolly, her glasses flashing in the light.
"Ikkaku, Renji," a stern voice came in from the side. "Put those away. I thought thugs like you didn't hit on women."
The two paused and turned to look at Yumichika. Kira and Rukia felt their hearts stop when they saw the looks the two men shared; they almost weren't themselves anymore.
"Don't make me say it twice," Yumichika stated, approaching the two. "Put those away. Now."
Heavy silence filled the hall. Nanao glanced at the two and eyed them with a calculative look. Perhaps she shouldn't have sent Kotsubaki and Kotetsu away after all.
"Aw, he's right, Ikkaku-san," Renji shrugged and put his gun back in its holster.
Ikkaku did the same without saying a word.
"I knew you two had guns of your own. I know a gunman when I see one," Nanao said. "That was why I asked if you were the band Iba-san hired."
Ikkaku grunted.
"I apologize for their behavior today, Ise-san," Yumichika bowed. "It seems they've made you quite uncomfortable. I apologize."
"Just as long as you know your place," Nanao nodded and moved toward the door. "You five are the wedding band, not an extension of Iba-san's group. However, if Soifon and her men decide to crash the party, I hope you two know where you'll be firing those bullets."
And with that, she was gone.
An angry Yumichika turned around to face his two band mates.
"That was totally uncalled for, Ikkaku. Renji-kun. Such inappropriate and inexcusable behavior! Turning a nice, decent conversation into an exchange of threats! What were you two thinking?!"
"Sorry," Renji muttered. "Couldn't control myself."
"Yeah," Ikkaku nodded.
"You two are honestly the most impossible people I've ever tried to handle! Even when we were in the same group back then!" Yumichika scolded.
By the tone of his voice, Kira and Rukia were sure that the 'same group' he mentioned definitely wasn't their band.
"Come on, let's set up," Kira offered, trying to lighten the mood.
"Let's go," Yumichika sighed. "Behave yourselves, everyone. Just because these two blockheads have their own guns, doesn't mean we're safe."
Renji and Ikkaku grinned at each other, while Kira and Rukia exchanged frightened looks. Just because those two blockheads had their own guns didn't necessarily mean that they were safe.
Didn't that mean they were in a lot more danger than they were before?
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Seven-thirty at the Morisato Hall…
"Man, look at all those goons dancin' like they got fire on their asses or somethin'," Renji snickered softly from behind his drum sets.
"Renji," Kira said worriedly.
"Ssh," Rukia put her finger to her mouth and pointed to the center of the dance floor.
"To the bride an' her man!" Iba roared and raised his glass. "May their married lives be a happy one!"
Everyone else raised their glasses, voiced their agreements and sat down at their tables to eat.
"Geez, tootin' on my trombone makes me feel like my lips got stuck together in a pipe or somethin'," Ikkaku moaned, rubbing his jaw.
"Are we supposed to be eatin' yet?"
"Ten more minutes, Renji-kun," Yumichika glanced at his watch. "Then we can grab ourselves a bite from the kitchen."
"By a bite, I think you mean a sandwich," Renji grumbled. "These assholes can get really stingy with their grub when they want to."
"Hmmph," Ikkaku agreed.
"Just ten more minutes," Yumichika said firmly. "I suppose you can wait that long."
"Is food all you ever think about?" Rukia snickered.
"Hey, I heard that!"
Kira smiled to himself and shook his head. He then started to stretch his fingers to get ready for the next set.
"A-anou, excuse me…" came a voice from his left.
"Hai," Kira turned around. "A-ah, Nemu-san!"
At the sound of her name, everyone in the band stopped what they were doing and turned around to face Nemu.
"I was wondering if you could play 'Roses in your Eyes'."
"Finally, a real request!" Ikkaku exclaimed so loudly, that Yumichika had to throw his handkerchief at him.
"Be glad to, Nemu-san," Kira smiled at her. "Congratulations on your wedding too, ma'am."
The bride smiled and nodded before continuing. "It's my favorite song."
She then threw her gaze to the ground before mumbling an "Arigato" and taking off to her place at the table.
"Not much of a talker is she," Renji muttered.
"Yeah, not like Rangiku-san," Rukia sneered. Renji shot her a look.
"But she is one beautiful woman," Kira said. "Hisagi-san must be one lucky man to marry someone like her."
"Yeah, not like Abarai over here," Ikkaku smirked. "All he's got is Kuchiki."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Renji and Rukia growled at their bald friend, sharing similar looks of annoyance.
"Saa, saa, enough of that now," Yumichika began wiping the mouthpiece of his cornet. "Let's start the number now, shall we?"
And so, they played "Roses in your Eyes". Nobody looked like they were listening, but the band didn't care. They were looking at one person and one person only: Nemu. Just by looking at her, the band didn't see any reason why anyone should laugh at her or her brother like what Iba had told them. Sure, she spaced out at random moments, she didn't talk much and her face remained pretty emotionless for almost the whole time.
But didn't those narrow-minded bullies realize that these only contributed to her beauty even more?
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"Roses in your Eyes" was the last song of their set. The band paused for a short break to have their own dinner by a small table set up near the stage.
"What was that about their food being a sandwich?" Rukia teased Renji as she sliced into her steak.
"Ah shaddap," was all the redhead could counter. "Cant'cha see I'm enjoying my dinner?"
"Geez, lookin' at you guys, anyone would think you're married, eh Yumi? Kira?"
"Well, I wouldn't know about that," Kira started.
"Married?!" came two (angry) voices shouting in unison.
"Even without looking at them, anyone would assume they're married," Yumichika wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Although right now, they refuse to admit it."
"Refuse to admit what?!" Renji growled. "That I'm supposed to be married with someone as lousy as-"
"Well sorr-ee I don't measure up to Rangiku-san's standards, Renji!" Rukia almost yelled.
"Hm. I think they're married all right," Yumichika nodded and set down his napkin.
"For sure," Ikkaku added. "That's all right guys; you can expect us to play at your wedding someday."
"Now, now, you two," Kira stepped in to prevent another brawl. "This isn't the place to argue like a married couple."
"Not you too, Kira!"
"Renji, you know it's never good to pick a fight with a girl. It's very unwise and unfair," Kira advised.
"Oh it's unfair all right!" Rukia snorted. "With Renji at the disadvantage!"
"What was that, pipsqueak?!"
"Oh, now you're asking for it, bonehead!"
"It never fails," Ikkaku sighed. "Those two always have to fight, don't they?"
"You sound like you haven't become used to this," Yumichika shook his head.
"Quite a lively bunch you've got here, sir," a hand gently tapped Kira on the shoulder.
The piano player turned around and broke into a surprised smile to see who it was.
"Hisagi-san!" he extended his hand towards the groom. "What brings you here?"
"Nothing, nothing," Hisagi smiled and shook Kira's hand. "Just wanted to thank you guys for playing Nemu's song. It made her smile, you know."
"Glad she did," Kira nodded. "You're a lucky man, Hisagi-san. To have a woman like her as your bride, that's lucky of you."
"Call me Hisagi," he beamed at the compliment, but replied. "But if anyone around here should be getting the credit, it's her, not me."
"Ah."
"And credit goes out to you guys too. You guys play real good. Boss Iba sure knows how to pick out his bands."
"Quite a compliment you're giving us, Hisagi-san," Kira scratched his head sheepishly. "But thank you all the same."
Before Hisagi could form a reply to that, a loud voice was heard from the dance floor.
"And who the hell are you?"
Everyone turned their attention to the center of the hall and saw Iba growl menacingly to a small, whimpering boy. By the way the boy was dressed, they assumed he wasn't from Iba's group.
"I- I'm Hanatarou, I-Iba Tetsuzaemon s-sir," he stammered. "I co-come from Soifon."
And at the mere mention of that name, guns whipped out of their holsters in a flash and everyone's ears trained on the conversation.
"Hope you don't mind," Hisagi whispered to Kira. "But I think I'm needed. Nice meeting you, man."
"Same here," Kira nodded after him. Hisagi walked off and rested his hand on the holster he wore around his hips.
"Soifon?" Iba growled. "And what does she want from me?"
"She- she er… She has a message fo-for you, s-sir."
"Out with it then!" he yelled and almost gave the poor boy a seizure. "What the hell does she have to say to me?!"
"She- er… She says your sister's a freak," Hanatarou stammered. "A-and that she- she's retarded and drools herself to s-sleep on most evenings be-before going to bed."
An awkward silence filled the hall and no one dared to look at the bride at the moment. Everyone trained their eyes on the poor, stuttering boy and the face their boss was making at every statement. It wasn't a pretty sight.
"Is that all?" Iba asked quietly, staring directly in the eyes of Hanatarou.
"Plea- Please don't kill me sir!" he begged. "You don't know… Soifon's got my cou- cousin Ganju locked up an' all… She said she'd kill 'im if I didn't give you her message! Please sir, don't kill me! You know I don't mean to say all those things- she forced me to, you see! What I'm sayin' right now; it's not mine, it's hers!"
"Lissen, I know it's not your fault. I ain't gonna kill you an' neither are my boys. You hear me?" Iba said. "Now, is there anything else she wants to say?"
"Please sir, don't kill me!" Hanatarou yelled, his eyes widening at the sight of all the guns surrounding him. "You- you don't know! She's got Ganju; says she'll kill him if I don't talk! Please sir, please don't kill me!"
"SHADDAP!" Iba roared, losing all patience and reducing Hanatarou to a blubbering mess. He picked the boy up by the back of his shirt and whispered fiercely in his face. "Now, is there anything else she wants to say to me?"
"She- she says you're an even bigger retard for taking care of a sister like that… She say 'Who you think you're foolin' with that act, you're still not as saintly as your sister thinks you are'…"
He paused, causing Iba to become agitated.
"There's more," he stated simply. "What else did she tell you to say to me?!"
"P-please don't kill me…" he muttered. "She say your sister's a whore. Stealin' her sister's man from her… Makes her no different from her brother, she said. You two are exactly alike… Except that she's a whore an' you're a murderer."
Iba dropped Hanatarou onto the floor none too graciously and his fists clenched tightly into red balls.
"Please don't kill me," Hanatarou whimpered from beneath his feet.
"All right," Iba fumed, ignoring Hanatarou. "ALL RIGHT!"
And in one fluid motion, he whipped his coat open to reveal his gun holsters.
"ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT! WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Boss, cool down!" Kotsubaki immediately ran forward and restrained the infuriated Iba.
"Sir, you shouldn't!" Kiyone followed suit and also tried to hold him back.
"Iba-san," Nanao tightened her grip on her folder in extreme worry and nervousness.
"Boss, think it over!" Hisagi tried to calm him down, but to no avail.
"She insulted Nemu, she insulted me, she doesn't even have the guts to tell these to my face… WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!"
Nemu, meanwhile, not used to seeing her brother like this, crumpled her wedding dress in fright.
"Onii-san…" she muttered. "No, not like this… Onii-san…"
"I'll have her head, I tell you! HER HEAD!" he roared furiously, trying to get loose from the tight grip his gang mates had on him.
"Boss, don't!" Hisagi gritted his teeth, trying to keep a firm hold on his boss's arms.
"You'll get killed, sir!" Kiyone reasoned, also struggling as hard as the others were.
"That's exactly what she wants you to do!" Kotsubaki grunted, struggling to restrain his boss.
"I DON'T CARE!" Iba bellowed. "LET ME GO!"
And with that last syllable, he wrenched himself free from their grips and made his way towards the door.
Nemu didn't notice what had happened and continued staring into space, not being able to get over the shock of the latest events.
Kotsubaki and Kiyone headed the other gunmen in following Iba out the door, while Hisagi stayed behind, trying to comfort Nemu.
"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me…" Hanatarou moaned and crawled under a table.
"Tetsuzaemon Iba!" a loud voice greeted him as soon as he opened the door. "About time you showed that ugly mug of yours! I trust you received my message?"
"SOIFON YOU BASTARD, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"
"And you even took the liberty of taking your whole gang out with you!" she taunted. "Quite the gentleman you are then; you've saved me the effort of going in there and smoking them out myself!"
"Shut your trap Soifon!" he roared back in reply. "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"
"I do wish you'd stop saying the same thing twice," she frowned. "It's getting annoying."
And suddenly, without warning, a hail of bullets made their way to Iba's chest, sending the burly mob boss sprawling to the ground. The rest of the gang could only watch in shocked silence as they watched their boss crumple to the ground, multiple bullet holes lining his chest.
"Bo- Boss…" Kiyone stared at the body, his blood immediately painting the space he laid upon.
"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please, I'm begging you!" Hanatarou had crawled out from his hiding place and attached himself to Kotsubaki's leg, shaking it, begging for his life.
"SHUT UP!" Kotsubaki drew his gun and shot Hanatarou squarely in the head.
His body fell to the floor, the hole in his head still smoking and with the look of fear still frozen on his face.
"That's too bad," Soifon's voice suddenly came from the front door. "Why kill a man who's done nothing else but be obedient?"
Everyone turned to the door and were shocked to find Soifon and her whole gang standing by the front door.
"Oh shit…" Kiyone swore under her breath, her hand frozen on her gun.
"Hey boss, she looks pretty," a large, sneering man came up from behind Soifon. "Can I keep her?"
"Shut up, Omaeda," Soifon sighed. "I thought your standards were higher than that."
"But boss…" he leered and moved forward. He cupped Kiyone's chin in his huge hand and turned her face to take a better look at it. "She really is a pretty little thing… I'd rather see her in bed than in here."
Kiyone trembled slightly at the man's touch. He moved his face closer to hers and from this distance, she smelt his breath.
It smelled of cheap gum and booze.
"So what about it, girly?" he asked seductively. "Wanna see me tonight? Trust me, we're gonna take you places, me an' my pal."
Her gaze traveled to his pants and met his 'pal'. Her hand started shaking uncontrollably and she immediately felt immense fear at the way the man was handling her face. Because even if she was a gangster, she was still a woman. She was good with dispatching men from afar; not when they were this close.
"You asshole!" a gruff voice shouted. "Take your hands off her!"
A gunshot was heard and Omaeda quickly withdrew his hand, which was now covered with blood.
"My, my, so Iba had some good gunmen stocked away after all," Soifon grinned. "Omaeda, it seems it was a mistake handling his girl."
"Dammit, he got my shooting hand!" he complained, wrapping the smoking hole in his hand with a towel. "I'll show you, you little runt! You're messing with the wrong person in this company!"
"Kotsubaki!" Kiyone threw an alarmed look at her companion.
"Shut it, Kotetsu, I'm trying to concentrate here!" he yelled, getting into his shooting position.
"That's no way to talk to your girlfriend, boy," Soifon warned. "Especially if they're going to be your last words to her."
"You little shit!" Omaeda bellowed and charged straight towards Kotsubaki.
Kotsubaki readied himself for a revolver, but his eyes widened in shock when he saw the large man whip out a shotgun from his hip.
"I'll teach you to mess with me!!!" he roared and thrust the shotgun onto Kotsubaki's forehead.
"Kotsubaki!!!!" Kiyone shrieked, her tears flowing freely from her eyes.
The bearded man turned to the blond girl, his eyes widened in panic and shock. But he didn't have anymore time to say anything else to her.
Omaeda pulled the trigger.
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"You little shit!" Omaeda panted and hefted the huge gun onto his shoulders. He turned around and went back to Soifon with a combination of triumph and pain on his face.
"Kotsubaki!" Kiyone was on her knees, sobbing loudly by the body of her long-time friend. The hole in his head was still smoking and the size of it was almost inhuman. His eyes seemed to be directed towards her and the look that remained on what was left on his face was a look of sheer terror.
"That's too bad, girl," Soifon said icily. "That's what he gets for shooting Omaeda like that."
"How many more do you have to kill?!" she turned to Soifon, her face filled with fury and her gun pointed to the mob boss' face.
"Go ahead," she dared. "Go ahead and shoot me. Let's see if you'll hit me."
"You're damn right I will!" she yelled.
Those were her last words.
A louder gunshot pierced the air and Soifon turned to give her subordinate an annoyed look.
"Omaeda," she scolded. "That wasn't polite. And besides, I thought you wanted to bring her home with you?"
"Don't want her no more," he muttered simply, his hand still bleeding.
"Well then," Soifon clapped her hands and announced to the rest of Iba's gang. "This little game has just about come to an end. You're no fun to play with anymore and I'm getting bored. What do you say we end this?"
"You'll pay for this…" Hisagi tightened his grip on his gun. "I swear to God you will!"
"Oh that's right, I forgot you were still alive," Soifon shrugged and shot him in the head.
Nemu gasped as she saw him stagger to the ground, the blood flowing from the hole in his head.
"Now then, Nemu-san," Soifon said, standing directly above her, her gun pointed on the bride's head. "It's your turn."
"You don't know how happy I am, now that I've met you properly," Soifon whispered to Nemu's hair. "Goodbye, Nemu-san. Send your retard of a brother my regards."
Nemu didn't even have time to turn her head when the gun fired.
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"I say it's about time we split," Renji whispered to his band mates.
They nodded their heads and turned to Renji and Ikkaku, who were busying themselves with their guns.
"I'll go first and everyone else'll follow," Ikkaku said and cocked his gun. "Abarai'll take care of the rear. Clear?"
They nodded again. Kira gave the instruments a sad glance. Would they have to be left behind?
"Relax," Yumichika said, laying a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "We can get them back when they're done with this place."
"They'll never notice we've been here anyways," Rukia added.
He nodded in relief and smiled up at them.
"Okay, are we ready?" Yumichika lowered his voice. "All right, Ikkaku , let's go."
The bald man didn't need to be told twice. With his gun ready in his hand, he darted from their table (they turned it on its side to avoid being seen) to the emergency exit. He glanced at Soifon and saw that she was busy shooting the rest of the gang with her boys. He motioned for the next one to follow and Kira came running after him. Yumichiika followed and so did Rukia, but not without throwing Renji a worried glance. He grinned at her in reply and patted his gun to show her he'd be all right.
"Finish them off and make sure no one makes it out alive," came Soifon's voice from the front door. "Don't take too long in here; the cops will be on their way soon."
"We'll take care of it, boss, don't worry," Omaeda grinned and turned to his men. "All right you heard the boss, move it!"
In the midst of their skirmish- although it could hardly be called one, as Iba's gang wasn't putting up much of a fight-, Renji quickly followed the others outside.
The band was still outside when they heard the last gunshot fire.
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The room was silent once the five moved back in. Bodies were littered on the floor, their mouths open and the whites of their eyes revealing themselves to anyone passing by, Soifon and her gang had moved out already and left the hall in its state.
"Man, what a mess," Rukia looked at the bodies around them. "We could've died along with them."
"But we didn't." Yumichika said firmly. "That's the important thing."
"But Nemu-san and Iba-san and Hisagi-san!" Kira shook the bandleader's shirtfront. "They're dead, Ayasegawa-san, dead! Don't tell me that doesn't count for something!"
He had nothing to say to that.
"They're dead," Ikkaku said flatly. "And there isn't a thing we can do to change that. We're lucky we're still alive."
"But you could've done something!" Kira ranted. "You and Renji! You both had guns! And you- we… We just watched… We didn't do anything!"
"If Ikkaku-san and I had interfered, then they woulda seen you guys," Renji explained calmly. "An' I seem to remember making a promise to you that you wouldn't leave here with a bullet hole in your systems."
"B-but still…" Kira trailed off. Rukia went over to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulders. He felt it and relaxed.
"We… We should probably start packing up now, huh?" the piano player smiled grimly. Yumichika nodded after him.
"So, in the end, everyone died," Rukia muttered. "Everyone except the wedding band."
"Kinda funny, isn't it?" Yumichika shrugged, wiping his cornet's mouthpiece. "Really funny. It's just like we made it out of a scene of an old movie."
"Yeah, those old movies with the gangsters and the mafia in 'em," Ikkaku added. Then, he walked over to the Nanao's corpse, who was still holding onto the folder of her boss' records.
"Guess we never really did get paid for that gig after all," he muttered to her. "What a waste. Your boss said he was paying us twice for it too."
Renji glanced at his watch and let out a gasp of surprise. "Now wouldja believe that… It's only nine o'clock."
"Felt like we spent all evening hiding behind that table," Kira glanced at the said object. "It was so scary."
"Yeah, it was," Rukia added. "Maybe you three're used to it, but Kira-san and I weren't. Hiding behind there was like hell… You never know if they saw you or not… You never really know if you were going to make it out alive or not. You know how that feels?"
"Won't forget the first time I felt just like that… Was with these two too when it happened," Renji grinned at the memory.
"Yeah, he was shaking like a leaf back then, behind that old piano," Ikkaku laughed. "Jesus, we sound old."
"If everyone is finished packing up, can someone start the van so we can leave already?" Yumichika asked, closing the case of his instrument.
"I'll go start it," Renji volunteered. "Let's go, Kira."
"Nobody will talk about this event ever again," Yumichika said to the remaining two. "We don't want to send Kira-kun into a panic again."
Rukia nodded and followed the bandleader out. Ikkaku, however, remained behind and knelt beside Nanao's corpse. He put his rough hand over her opened eyes and closed them.
"Don't worry lass, we're not going to ask for a refund."
And with that, he went out, swinging his trombone case lazily. He closed the doors, leaving the bodies in the darkness.
And maybe, just maybe, also in peace.
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A few weeks later, the papers reported of a mass murder that went down at the Morisato Hall on one Sunday evening. The bodies were identified immediately by the authorities, and among the multiple body count were the famous mob boss, Iba Tetsuzaemon, his sister Nemu and her groom Hisagi Shuuhei, whom she was supposed to marry that night.
The papers made no mention of a band that performed at the wedding; nor did they mention anybody making it out of the venue alive.
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Kuchiki and the Brothers Brass still continues to play, but only at Greenbacks.
No matter how much they were offered and no matter who wanted them, they always turned down constant offers of gigs outside of the bar.
Nobody ever thought of asking them, and they never thought of telling.
It was probably just as well. After all, their business is to play, not to talk. Besides, as Yumichika would put it, talking would throw their heads off the beat. That would mess up their entire routine.
Nobody outside the band knew of that one fateful gig, except for Urahara.
He never thought of telling their story to anyone either.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading.