Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
Tragedies of the Sake King
By annyenil
Abarai Renji woke up with at start. It had been the most bizarre dream. There had been lots of sexy women with large busts and pearly smooth skin and amber wavy hair. (i.e., lots of Matsumoto Rangikus surrounding him) And there had been the most delightful sake that would tingle the tip of his tongue in such a dreamy manner that he wished he would never have to wake up. Sadly, such was not the case as a wave of flittering blustery surged into the room. The strange drone this early in the morning gave him no choice but to get up and investigate its cause.
He had not expect the drowsy morning laden with his own indolence would be this refreshing as a wave of dew studded breeze met his cheeks, blowing his flaming red hair into his eyes. He gently pushed it out of his eyes, feeling rather idyllic at the thought of actually enjoying the morning air. How genteel of me. He thought. Such serenity was one never meant to be broken. Which meant that it would, more likely than not, be. Renji rubbed his eyes several times to confirm that the white beach before him was not a silly chimera resulting from excessive fantasizing of becoming the Sixth Division taichou. A Hawaiian paradise!
Taking another deep breath of the acutely cold morning air, Renji dived into the white, glistening pile. And gasped in shock. His entire Division, the entire Division Office Entrance had been mobbed and drowned in nothing but letters. There were pink, purple, flowery envelopes of the roughest sallow kind to the most expensively handmade kind, of the strangest shapes and sizes there ever had been, streaming continuously like a stream of oasis in the middle of the cold Sereitei winter. He shivered a little and stooped down and scooped up a few letters. And snorted in a most insolent manner unbefitting for any self-respectable taichou.
But in a facetious situation like the one Renji was in, even Ukitake Jyuushirou in his most somber state would have burst out howling in wild laughter. He dived into the pool of letters clogging up the entrance of his Division, making such a fracas in the wee-hours of the tranquil morning that several of his subordinates had woken up and joined in the fun, playing around like as though snow had befallen Sereitei. It had been like a playground with gleeful children frolicking about exuding nothing but the most innocuous joy.
"Hey, look at this one! Dear Bya-bya!" Endless laughter followed.
"This is better. 'Make me your wife! Signed, Kuchiki Haruko'. This is hilarious!" More laughter followed, that seemed to have lit up the usually austere and solemn cloud that shrouded over the Sixth Division. The illuminated Division was having the best time anybody had ever had, wading through the pool of many, many, many letters.
"Eeww! There is a BRA stuck in this parcel!"
"What's with the eww? You've never seen one before?"
"That's not the point!"
"Oh my god. Kuchiki taichou is gonna love this. Photos of……" A bunch of surly looking male shinigami had nosebleed onto their bulging robes.
"Roses are red, violets are blue. You may not know me, but I still love you. That is SO boring."
"It's a classic. Now shut up and look some more."
The Sixth Division had been under so much strict regiment that they were content holding a party with letter-uncovering in the morning at six a.m. where the hell butterflies and chirpy birds were hardly even awake. It also had not occurred to anybody that it seemed none of the shinigami in the Division possessed more brains than their slightly dense fukutaichou, for it had not alarmed them even a little or insinuated a sense of guilt in them that would otherwise have told them to do what they were joyously partaking in discreetly.
Renji was neither jealous nor irritated that his taichou was so immensely popular, for despite the source of this stream had been uncovered to be some sort of letter box (having exploded into pieces of shredded wood by force) with the banner "Byakuya Fan Club" on it, he himself received quite a few proposals and kisses over letters. Fan girls were one of the most intelligent and resourceful species on earth. If everybody were as purposeful as fan girls, the world would be a lot brighter and more efficient.
Of course, that was perfectly hypothetical.
Renji had not much to spare as he grabs and tore open each of his letters eagerly. Until he opened one that puffed out a cloud of enigmatic powder that sent him into a psychedelic daze as he began to feel floating and fleetingly light. He felt as though he had been sent to heaven, literally. What was this ecstasy? The joy of love……? What a wonderful, beautiful feeling it was, to be so amorous.
"Abarai fukutaichou? Abarai fukutaichou……?" The mass of shinigami crowded over as their fukutaichou slowly collapsed to the ground in a heap, and thus instigating a noisy fracas that finally, could no longer be tolerated by the almighty Kuchiki Byakuya. Those solemn steps struck on the hearts of every single shinigami present as the lump of fear in their stomach grew colossal. A wave of reiatsu made some succumb and bow, while the rest gritted their teeth in order not to appear weak and feeble before their taichou.
"Take this trash away." Byakuya said coldly.
"H-hai, taichou." A few shinigami who were still alert enough promptly escaped from the scene while the rest of them took this opportunity to escape as well. It was never wise to be around making such a mess. One clever shinigami waved a little spell, and most of the letter were immediately decimated with a miniature tornado of a magical sprinkle.
"Hm." Byakuya snorted as he bent over to pick up the letter that Renji had been clutching. It was a little purple envelope with some powder left over in it. Byakuya dabbed a finger at the powder and sniffed it, rubbing it into the air before him. He snorted again in the most snobby manner possible, "Ai no Gengaku? Such a juvenile spell……" Perhaps he should have bestowed less clemency and merely killed Renji. It was insidious to have such a useless fukutaichou roaming around in his Division, which must be of the most qualified and capable shinigami, as well as the most disciplined, in Sereitei. He could not understand why he had to stand in line with that red-haired punk/hippie trailing behind him with occasional bursts of killing intent.
Byakuya opened the letter, pouring out all the powder cautiously, and read its contents.
"Stay away from Kuchiki Byakuya. Love, Na-chan." Byakuya raised an eyebrow. All women are crazy. Such a menacing message coupled with such an adorable signing off was nothing direct and understandable to Renji. He turned away and disposed off the letter into the streets, not wanting to have anything to do with these inane women's dangerous adulations.
He headed over to the hole in his Division Entrance that was still spewing out letters and decided to seal it. "Bakudou Seventy Six, Freeze Over!"
"Hehehe." A little voice behind him giggled.
"It won't work, Bya-kushi." A devilishly grinning Kusajishi Yachiru said. "Sui-sui told me all about it already. Hehehe."
Byakuya watched with exasperated defeat as his kicked at the hole and wondered, just wondered if those lowly life forms in Rukongai were seriously considering if he would actually fall for them. They weren't even women to him. They were merely creatures.
"In that case," he turned and picked up Renji's little love bomb and headed back into his office, "it probably wouldn't hurt to mess around a little."
Even Kuchiki Byakuya needed fun sometimes.
