AN: This is a bit of a brutal chapter. Very angsty. This may make you guys hate Ikkaku for awhile but remember, this chapter is seen only through Yumichika's perspective.
This takes place after the big fight. I didn't want the second chapter to be as confrontational as the first. Here, Yumichika is remembering bits of the argument, (Ikkaku's quotes are in italics) and thinking over how he feels and what he should do.
As always reviews & criticism are welcome. Thank you for reading.
There was a small form huddled in the corner of the otherwise deserted 11th Division dojo. It was 4am and while most were sleeping snugly in their rooms, Yumichika was curled up around himself in a helpless attempt to ease the aching within. If anyone asked, he would have denied that he was crying. Crying was very unbeautiful after all, it made his lovely violet eyes red rimmed and puffy. However, his shoulders were trembling and long wet streaks had trailed a path along his fair cheeks. He wiped them away with his orange wrist band.
It should have been an uneventful night. Guard duty was dull enough even when Ikkaku was with him but when he was alone it was torture. Still he would have preferred marching around alone in the dark empty streets of Seireitei to crying in the corner of the dojo. Ikkaku had been livid when he had gotten home. Yumichika had never felt the full brunt of Ikkaku's anger directed at him before but it wasn't like he didn't see it coming. He had known, he had always known it would happen like this. For the most part, Yumichika had expected every word Ikkaku had thrown at him. He had anticipated all of it, the anger, the bitter words, the accusations… So why did it hurt so much?
"You drain people of their reiatsu? What the hell, Yumichika. That's so cheap and dirty."
He was expecting that of course, those words, that reaction. On his way home he had imagined every possible thing Ikkaku might say to him but he wasn't prepared for the look on Ikkaku's face when he said it. There was no one word to describe it: disgust, revulsion maybe, anger definitely, condescendence but the most accusatory of all was the disappointment. Yumichika clenched his eyes tighter trying hard to dispel the image. It didn't work. He shook his head, fists pounding at his temples and bit his tongue in an attempt to redirect his thoughts but no matter what he did, that look lurked behind his closed lids. He opened his eyes, knowing the tears would come and he'd be helpless to stop them but he needed to stop seeing that look. He dragged his sleeve roughly over his face. Breathe, Yumichika, breathe.
He hadn't chosen this. He would have loved for his Zanpakuto to be a power type, one that he could flaunt proudly, one that would have made Ikkaku proud of him. That was why he used the half release. Why couldn't Ikkaku understand? Yumichika was a man of the 11th as well, he was 5th seat. He could have been 4th seat if he wanted. He knew it was a dirty tactic to use Rur'iro Kujaku so he didn't use it unless he absolutely had to and only when he knew no one in the division would see. He had checked for approaching reiatsu before his fight with Kira. He had been cautious… but not cautious enough. Ikkaku's reiatsu was weak because of his injury and Yumichika had simply assumed he had been home, in bed… He should have been more careful.
"All this damn time, Yumichika, you lying bastard. I always knew you were manipulative but how the hell could you keep something like this from me?"
That one hadn't bothered him so much at the time but in retrospect, it really stung that Ikkaku thought so poorly of him. It was true to a certain extent that Yumichika could be very underhanded when it came to getting what he wanted. He certainly would never have called it manipulative. Resourceful, cunning, persistent and calculating were much more to his taste. Manipulative sounded so ugly. Yumichika could not remember a time when he had "manipulated" Ikkaku. He had never needed to. He took much more pleasure in asking Ikkaku for small favours as they were always granted, even if at times they were accompanied by a half-hearted grumble.
Like the time he had been craving persimmon but they were out of season. Ikkaku had snapped at him to quit complaining, it was only a damn fruit. But he had also scoured the markets every day for a week before finding a vendor with a case of the bruised orange fruit. He had selected two that were the most intact and later, tossed them rather unceremoniously at Yumichika, when he had found him sorting files. They had made love right in the middle of the afternoon that day, the sweet taste of persimmon lingering on their lips. If he concentrated, he could almost feel Ikkaku's warm strong hands sliding over his skin. Ikkaku could be the most tender lover when he was in the mood. Something Yumichika kept close to his heart because he knew no one else ever got such loving treatment from the rough man. It was a testament to how beautiful their relationship was.
"This entire fucking relationship is a sham! You played me like an idiot all this time."
That one Yumichika hadn't expected. It stung quite deep. How could Ikkaku think he wasn't completely devoted to the relationship? The way Yumichika felt was genuine. There was no way anyone could mistake it. He had followed this man throughout all the Rukongai watching Ikkaku win countless battles with patient admiration and sometimes watching him lose while forcing himself to remain rooted to the spot when every inch of his heart, his soul, his body was screaming with fear and the desire to protect the one he loved.
Yumichika had developed unbelievable patience and control in those years. Along with those qualities, although Yumichika had never let Ikkaku know, came terrible fits of anxiety. Memories of lost fights crept in Yumichika's dreams and haunted his mind with tormenting thoughts. What if Ikkaku hadn't been able to dodge that swing? Just a few inches to the right and it could have cleaved his head clear off! What if Ikkaku was challenged to another fight before he could recover completely? What if luck wasn't on his side next time?
It had taken a long, long time but Yumichika finally found solace in a little yellow feather that drifted down the trees one day. In the human world, women would tie yellow ribbons to trees with the hope that their beloved would return safely from war and battle. Yumichika had placed the feather in his hair but the wind kept blowing it out. He tried hair clips but certainly wanted something more secure. When Ikkaku got the tattoos done around his eyes, Yumichika had searched the forest every day for months for a matching red feather. In the end, he had found one per chance at a stall in the market. For years he kept those feathers and when he finally leaned how to use kidou, he secured them safely in plain sight on his eyebrow.
"Because of your little jealous fit, you dragged Kira into this? That's real rich, Yumichika. Hitting on anything with a pulse is your way to get what you want, not his."
What had Ikkaku been implying? He had never been able to distinguish being nice to people from flirting anyway. In all the years they had been together, Yumichika had never once given anyone a second look. Why would he have to? He had the man he loved more than life itself by his side. So even when he did flirt, it was innocent and he would always, always stop if he felt even the slightest flare of jealousy in Ikkaku. After all, Yumichika loved being told he was beautiful but never more than when Ikkaku stroked his hair out of his eyes for no reason other than to look at him. Or when Ikkaku whisked him into a dark hallway in the middle of their duties to steal a kiss. Or when Ikkaku's eyes lingered when they were on a mission and he would wear real world clothes. Yumichika never felt as beautiful as when Ikkaku looked at him.
"Say what you fucking will about him but at least he has a man's sword and doesn't fight dirty."
Yumichika was fiercely proud of his skill as a swordsman. He had won the respect of the 11th by the edge of his blade despite their initial reluctance to accept such a frilly man into their Division. He had had to work tirelessly to attain the same amount of respect that Ikkaku received and even still he was well aware of the hushed jokes at his expense. He had turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to them more often than he could count but it still stung. Often the repressed pain manifested itself into one of Yumichika's legendary fits. Ikkaku would usually avoid him while he worked through the anger but sometimes he relished it when he was aching for a good spar. After, when Yumi was too tired to be angry anymore, he would settle for a pout which Ikkaku would quickly erase with a kiss. Then Yumichika would remind himself that those ruffians simply couldn't understand beauty or his complexity but it didn't really matter. Their opinions didn't matter anyway.
"I can't believe I fell for this shit! Those stupid feathers, the ridiculous orange… whatever the hell that is, all that damn frilly crap you do was just a fucking distraction. All so you could play me, you ugly bastard!"
That one knocked the breath right out of him. His heart shattered and felt like it had fallen into the pit of his stomach. Ikkaku thought he was ugly. There was only one person whose opinion truly mattered to Yumichika, only one person other than himself that he tried to look beautiful for, only one person whose estimation Yumichika craved for and that person had called him… ugly.
Yumichika knew, he knew that Ikkaku had said it out of anger. He knew Ikkaku didn't mean it. He couldn't, couldn't have meant it! He was sure it couldn't be the truth. It couldn't be, because Ikkaku loved him. He did! He had to! Despite all the years they had been together, longer than most human couples could even fathom, Ikkaku gaze still made him feel as beautiful as he claimed to be. Yumichika thought of their morning routine, where they would wake together, share a soft kiss, then Yumichika would putter around the room, preparing for the day as Ikkaku lazed in the bed watching him dress with the same appreciation in his eyes as when he watched Yumichika disrobe. There was no doubt in Yumichika's mind that the glow everyone admired about him had little to do with his daily primping and everything to do with the euphoric feeling of being seen in Ikkaku's esteem.
Had that changed? Had his secret really affected Ikkaku so much? To the point where he couldn't even look at Yumichika anymore? Where he could not look past the lie, not see any of Yumichika's efforts and affections, not see any beauty at all?
"You're a fucking embarrassment to the 11th. Everyone was right about you! You shouldn't even be in this division with your pansy ass sword."
Somehow, that was the first thing he had expected Ikkaku to say to him and despite that, it was the one thing that hurt the most. He had stepped on his Zanpakuto's pride to belong to this division, stepped on his own pride, his own abilities to impress those around him, to be seen as their equal. He had done it because Ikkaku meant more to him than any of his personal aspirations. He only needed to be strong enough to outrank the rest 11th Division. He knew he had no hopes of achieving the power and intensity of Zaraki Taichou nor would he try to compete with a child for Ikkaku's respect. He needed to be just strong enough to be at Ikkaku's level. Yumichika had been resigned to underachieving for the rest of his afterlife so he would never overshadow Ikkaku's pride and ambition… So he could fight along side of the man he loved…
So much for that. He would be laughed out of the 11th Division when news spread. Zaraki Taichou would be disgusted with him. He was disgusted with himself. Why had he been cursed with a kidou type Zanpakuto? It was a beautiful sword and it was powerful. It was everything Yumichika wanted and was… but what good was it doing him now? What good was it to be beautiful when the one you want thinks you're ugly? What good was it to be powerful when such power was only perceived to be cowardly?
The sky was turning pink and orange. The sun would be rising soon. He would have to leave the dojo before someone found him in this frightful state. He would go to the communal bath. It was still too early to be occupied. He would clean up and figure out what to do next. He needed more time to think, to be away from Ikkaku and this division and all the reminders of what he was losing because of a stupid reckless fight with that idiot blond. Maybe he would request to be transferred out of the 11th as soon as possible, although, Yachiru would no doubt pester him for a reason and he was in no state to come up with a plausible lie at the moment. Maybe Zaraki had a real world mission for him. Yes, that might be best. He needed something to preoccupy him and more than anything he needed time and a change of environment to figure out what he would do next.