Weird
A Bleach fanfic by Rabid Lola
A/N: This fic is a bit cracky, meant to be mildly amusing, and the basis is the ending credits of the Bleach OAV "Sealed Sword Frenzy" really happened. So unless you watched that, this would make less sense than it already does. This fic pokes fun at stuff like Isshin's pink, frilly shirt with ruffles.
So. :)
Chad was a quiet person. Everyone knew that. So quiet, that most people would nothing less than jump if he began to talk at any time. They'd get excited if he said more than one sentence during one talking spell.
Whatever he says must be worth listening to, people would argue. I mean, it's been stewing in there for so long…
Ichigo, though, was used to Chad. He didn't think Chad talking now and then was extraordinary. And while he thought that everything Chad said was worth listening to, it didn't necessarily mean it was deep and profound. Sometimes, the things he said could be downright…weird.
Like now.
It was a cool, overcast Saturday—perfect for lounging about. Chad and Ichigo, by some half-unspoken agreement ("Chad, let's go." "…") were hanging out together on the riverbank. Ichigo was lying on the grass, arms folded behind his head, his shock of orange hair and loud clothes a bright splash of color against the green. Chad was a bit more subdued. Only a bit. Brown slacks, brown skin, brown hair, fluorescent pink Hawaiian shirt. Both boys were silent, idle, and content.
Or so Ichigo thought. Chad, as he would discover, was thinking.
"Ichigo."
"Ah?" The boy tilted his head up the slightest bit, in acknowledgement of Chad's voice.
"Maybe…"
Ichigo waited.
"Maybe…"
"Maybe what?"
A long pause. Ichigo looked up at Chad now, narrowing his eyes against the glare of the sun. "Speak up. What's on your mind?"
"Maybe your dad's a shinigami."
Had Ichigo been drinking, he probably would have spat out enough water to create a good-sized rainbow. As it was, his eyes bugged out and he propped himself up on his elbows, sputtering, "Eh! What the hell, Chad?"
"…"
"What gave you that idea?" Ichigo was reeking disbelief. His brain was trying its hardest not to imagine Isshin in a black kimono, waving around a zanpakuto.
"…His clothes."
Ichigo's brows creased. "Eh?"
"Your dad dresses weird."
"Yeah he does, but what does that have to do with…"
Chad turned his head and Ichigo fell silent. "Urahara-san dresses weird."
"He's not exactly sane. And how did you know he was a shinigami?"
Chad shrugged that off. "I figured." Before Ichigo could remark on that, he went on. "Abarai-san dresses weird."
Ichigo opened his mouth, stopped, and shook his head. "Still…"
"When they were all here," Chad paused again. "Kuchiki-san's brother came in a suit, a top hat, a horse, and a carriage." Chad held up his hands, counting on his fingers. "Kenpachi-taichou and Yachiru-chan made a lot of people stare at them. Madarame-san and Hisagi-san looked out of place wherever they went. Kyoraku-taichou and Ise-fukutaichou were maybe the only ones dressed normally. And even then, they somehow stood out."
"Hey, the women wore pretty normal clothes."
One large brown eye could be seen from under shaggy bangs, eyeing him solemnly. "Even still, they didn't fit in. Not really. Because the way they dress and the way they are is weird." Yet another pause. "So, I think your dad is a shinigami."
Ichigo scowled. The thought of the old goat being a shinigami was kind of unsettling. More than just "kind of", actually. Because—though he'd never say it out loud, even to himself (and he didn't say it because of himself, either)—shinigamis were cool, in some way. Crazy, powerful, weird, and cool. And Isshin was…
Crazy, powerful, and weird. Ichigo balked and tried something else. "Don freakin' Kanonji dresses weird. Why not him?"
Chad considered. And shrugged. "He has some spiritual power.'
"Yeah, some," Ichigo flung back. "But he's nowhere near shinigami level. The hell, many people dress like dad." A small lie, and Ichigo knew it. The only people he'd ever seen as weird as his dad in choice of clothing were…the shinigami. He balked again, and opted for the Snort and Derision.
"The old man can't be a shinigami," he declared, lifting his face to the sky, still scowling. "He—he just can't. It's too wrong."
Chad was still for a full minute, before giving a grunt.
Ichigo folded his arms behind his head again, lying back down. "That was just too weird, Chad."
His father couldn't be a shinigami. He just couldn't.
…Right?
-EnD-