Waiting Room Talks

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.


The hospital waiting room was unusually crowded that November night, filled mostly with victims of car accidents (Karakura Town had been the subject of an early snow that year, and the roads were slick with ice) and flu patients, sneezing, coughing and all around hacking up their lungs.

"I got here quick as I could; the main road was blocked so I had to take the back road instead. Masaki's already gone around to the maternity ward." That was Isshin's greeting as he sat down beside his quiet, unusually pale friend.

Ryuuken only nodded slightly to acknowledge Isshin's presence, continuing to stare down at the floor, breathing rattling ever so slightly. That, along with the sort of pallor which normally only adorned the face of a cadaver in a local morgue, was the only outward sign of the fact that he was pretty close to what could only be termed as a nervous breakdown.

Of course, his friend couldn't help but notice how tense Ryuuken was, and couldn't resist broaching the subject (Though this time, it was clearly out of concern). "Hey," Isshin addressed him cautiously, "this isn't the hospital you work at, is it?"

Ryuuken found himself shaking his head vigorously, glad of something, anything to do. "No. This hospital was closer; there wasn't much of a choice."

"And when did Sayuri start having contractions?"

"About two hours ago," he answered tersely.

Isshin laughed softly at the look on Ryuuken's rigid, ashen face, at the fact that his eyes were slightly glazed and were more staring through the floor than at it, and at the fact that his knuckles were so white that they looked like the small flecks of snow rapidly melting on his coat. "You are not taking this childbirth thing well, are you?"

For the first time that night, Ryuuken looked up at Isshin, a decidedly unappreciative gleam in his eyes. "Please," he muttered, a textbook study in nervousness meets rising temper, "don't start, Isshin."

Naturally, that wasn't the sort of thing capable of deterring Kurosaki Isshin from pushing his luck; there was little capable of keeping Isshin from saying something risky to his health. He was probably trusting that the setting would keep Ryuuken from snapping. "Man, I don't think I've ever seen you like this before. You're a nervous wreck!"

Ryuuken sighed, leaning back and cupping his face in his hands, nearly blinding himself by staring up at the fluorescent lights.

"First time father," Isshin explained to a few lookers-on who seemed confused, jerking his thumb right in Ryuuken's direction and grinning. "He's just a kid."

"I'm twenty-nine," Ryuuken protested, frowning at Isshin, who just grinned right back, annoyingly cheerful and carefree; personally, Ryuuken didn't see anything to be amused about.

"Just a kid!" Isshin reasserted; for him, the matter was clearly obvious. Then again, being a Shinigami, even a young one, twenty-nine must have seemed very young indeed. For the sake of the local peace, Ryuuken decided it was the Shinigami mentality talking, rather than Isshin being his normal obnoxious self.

Then again…

Isshin went on, completely unconcerned or just uncaring of Ryuuken's (probably visible) rising level of irritation; it wasn't like he had ever cared about what bothered Ryuuken before. "I don't know what's bothering you so bad. Sayuri's just giving birth, Ryuuken. This happens every day. We are in an age of modern medicine; she will be perfectly alright. Don't worry about her."

Ryuuken could appreciate Isshin's attempt to comfort him, but he didn't feel very much reassured. If anything, Isshin was succeeding in what the patronizing nurse who had been tending to Sayuri when they arrived had failed to do. "You know," Ryuuken muttered, in a dangerously quiet voice, glaring at him, "for someone who is several decades my senior and claims to have much more life experience than myself, you are missing the mark entirely."

The lights flickered slightly, and Isshin flinched. "Ah," he said, settling back into his seat. "Is it bad?"

"They're performing a Caesarean section," Ryuuken answered, confident that that explained it all. He looked down and twisted his lip. "In that sort of circumstance, even living "in an age of modern medicine"," he shot mockingly, "I think I have a right to be worried."

A bark-like snort came from beside him. "Shoot, Ryuuken. If you're so worried, then why aren't you in there with her?"

Ryuuken felt his face color, as he tugged at his collar in embarrassment. His face felt like it was on fire. "Taking into account my, ahem, less than composed behavior en route to the hospital, the attending physician requested that I stay out here." Less than composed was a ghastly understatement; if anything, Sayuri had been calmer about going into labor than he had.

Isshin smiled infuriatingly, highly amused about Ryuuken's revelation. "So you were even worse two hours ago? I wish I'd gotten here sooner, and with a video recorder too." He stretched his arms around the backs of the chairs to his left and right; Ryuuken automatically scooted up in his seat. "Well, I suppose it could've been worse. You could've been hyperventilating."

If possible, Ryuuken's face got even more red at that. "Umm," he muttered, utterly mortified, "I…was hyperventilating. Sort of."

A howl of laughter broke, and Ryuuken looked at his friend in shock, hands itching with the intent to murder. Isshin didn't notice, and proceeded to have a laughing fit, drawing the attention of many of the occupants of the crowded waiting room.

"Isshin," Ryuuken murmured dangerously. "Would you care telling me just what is so amusing?"

The inane laughter died down as Isshin wiped at his eyes. "Nothing, nothing. The thought of you hyperventilating is, well…How do you 'sort of' hyperventilate, anyway?" Immediately, Isshin's face soured and he held up a hand. "Then again, don't answer that. I'm sure you found a way to pull it off.

"So," Isshin smiled, "you're going to be a father in a few hours. How does it feel?"

"Nerve-wracking," came the terse response. Ryuuken wished he could light a cigarette but knew better than to try smoking in a crowded hospital.

"Well, how about this?" Isshin's smile became an absolutely evil grin. "When your son is old enough, I'm going to tell him about this night—namely, your behavior, in excruciating detail."

Ryuuken's face soured. "You will do no such thing."

"Oh, yes I will! When I say I'm gonna do something, Ryuuken, I mean it. You know me well enough to know that."

Ryuuken took the opportunity to push up his glasses, having the desired effect; the light gleamed off of them, making Isshin uneasy as usual. "Well," he murmured, "I suppose that my only consolation is that I get to do this to you in eight or nine months."

That wiped the grin right off of Isshin's face. "Delightful."

Revenge would be sweet indeed.