I think that you can all intelligently assume that I don't own Bleach from here on out.
AN: First of all, I apologize for any weird formatting you got on the first chapter. That should be fixed now – thanks for pointing it out. Secondly: Wow! Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter. You guys are awesome. Thanks especially to Gemini24 for my very first review!
Just so you all know, about 15 chapters of this have already been written, and I'm planning on updating three times a week – Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday for as long as I have enough chapters to fill it. I'll let you know if/when the schedule changes, and feel free to let me know if you'd prefer a different schedule.
Since I got the question, yes, there will be a central pairing (as well as a couple side pairings) to this, but not for quite a while. I would tell you, but where's the fun in that? ( It is pretty easy to guess though. :D )
So, without further ado, I'll leave you to your reading.
The white fabric of the Quincy uniform is torn at the sleeve.
Neither of them remembers when it happened, they don't even notice until they are back in their cell. Ichigo immediately attacks his food, pausing only when he sees Ishida staring ferociously at his left sleeve. Finally, the Quincy sighs and takes off his belt, laying it across the floor, much to Ichigo's confusion. Without a word of explanation, he pushes aside a flap to reveal a concealed zipper, which he opens to remove a needle and spool of thread.
At this, Ichigo can't keep silent any longer. "You brought a sewing kit?"
Ishida looks at him as though he has the IQ of a cucumber. "Yes."
"To Hueco Mundo."
"Your point?"
"Land of Hollows, murderous arrancar, and Aizen."
"Well," said the Quincy defensively, obviously following a completely different chain of reasoning. "It's not a very good one, I didn't have a lot of time..."
"But... that... what..." Ichigo splutters, cutting Uryu off. "What were you going to do with it? Were you planning on giving the Espada fashion tips, or making alterations to Orihime's dress before you rescued her?"
Which was, evidently, entirely the wrong thing to ask, as Uryu slumps forward and looks at him dejectedly. "You have no idea. That dress. It is an insult to everything - everything. Whoever designed it should be shot."
Ichigo starts to say that whoever designed it was probably an arrancar, so they'll end up killing them anyway, but he can't get more than two words out before Uryu continues, completely ignoring him. "The shape is all wrong - what imbecile ever came up with the idea for those shoulders? - and the -"
Note to self: Never, ever, mention anything even remotely related to clothing design to, around, or within hearing distance of Ishida Uryu.
"... and the sea cucumber who designed the overcoat is worse than dirt - what moronic cretin would ever make someone wear..."
I suppose it's a good thing he never ran into Nnoitra. Ichigo thinks aimlessly, too exhausted to try to interrupt him. He might have had a heart attack.
"... it's not even worth trying to save, when we get back I will burn that foul, heinous thing the first chance I get." the Quincy sighs and flops over his knees, evidently out of steam. Ichigo looks up, relieved, and watches as Ishida takes a deep breath and picks up the needle and thread. He stitches the sleeve with some difficulty, working with only one hand, but finishes with a flourish, a satisfied expression on his face. Ichigo considers for a moment asking why he bothers, as the edges of Uryu's cape have been ragged since they have been here, but then realizes that question would almost inevitably lead to yet another tirade of explanations of things he really, really could do without knowing.
He looks up at the other boy, cradling the spool of thread and the needle in his palm, about to tuck them away, faint frown lines around his blue eyes.
"Oy, Uryu," He interjects, making the Quincy look up. "I tore my shihakusho a while ago, and it's been bugging me. Do you think you could...?"
On any other day Uryu would have teased him or made him beg, but he doesn't now, and Ichigo knows he made the right call. He adjusts his glasses and says stiffly. "Well, I suppose, since you asked. And at least then I won't have to look at the ragged state that poor piece of clothing is in."
Ichigo snorts, stifling a smile. "You are so OCD."
"I am not." Uryu retorts, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder refers to a psychiatric condition characterized..."
"Alright, alright, didn't ask for the textbook definition." Surprisingly, Uryu doesn't even bother to reply, distracted by the tear Ichigo has pointed out in the shoulder of his jacket. His hands dart back and forth, Ichigo can feel the faint breeze they create, and then the Quincy is tying off the thread and sitting back, smirking slightly.
Later, when Ichigo cranes his head around to look at the stitching, he can see that Uryu has sewn a tiny Quincy cross in white thread, just above the tear, and he doesn't mind at all.
She had bruises around her eyes today.
She had bruises around her eyes, soon to be matched by bruises on his knuckles as he slams his fist into the wall.
"Fuck."
Slam.
"Fuck fuck shit fuck."
Slam.
"Fuckin' bastard fuckers."
SlamSlamSlam.
He wants to destroy something, he wants his sword in his hand to smash hollows, smash Ulquiorra, smash Grimmjow, smash Aizen, he wants to take his bare hands and crush the mask of the arrancar who stood behind Orihime and smirked and smirked and smirked.
His incoherent yell echoes through their cell, drowning out the other voice that shouts his name, as he slams into the wall.
"Kurosaki!"
There are hands on his shoulder, dragging his arm away from slamming into the wall again, and he spins around blindly, ready to attack, until he sees blue eyes Uryu scared blue eyes -black sword hand on his wrist kill kill kill.
No.
He breathes, and sees the shock fade from the blue eyes, the fingers relax on his arm. He pulls away, stepping back and slumping against the wall, breathing still ragged.
"You idiot." Uryu says, but much more quietly than usual. Ichigo looks up at him through the gap between his arms. The Quincy kneels down in front of him, pulling his belt off again and rifling through the pouches. He takes out a vial of antiseptic and a tiny roll of bandages. "You've completely shredded your hands."
"How much stuff," He croaks back. "Do you have in there?"
"I told you, I didn't have much time, I was more focused on getting the Seele Schneider..."
Ichigo doesn't even bother to correct him, sitting in silence as the Quincy daubs antiseptic onto his knuckles and then wraps the bandages around his hands.
"It's just...she..." He stutters, breaking the silence.
He feels the hands pause, fingers against his wrist. "I know."
He wakes up to a yelp and muttered curses. He looks around and finally distinguishes Ishida's silhouette, huddled upright..
"What the hell, Ishida?"
"Needle - dammit, if I could just see."
"What, you don't have a flashlight in that belt of yours?"
"Shut up, Kurosaki."
He scoots over, pushing himself up to see better. "What are you doing, anyway?"
"Well," He can't see it, but he can picture a blush spreading across the Quincy's pale cheeks. "The edge of my cape was tearing off, so I thought, well, Inoue-san has to do with that hideous dress all the time..."
Realizing that Uryu isn't likely to get to the point anytime soon, he pulls himself closer to see the object in the boy's open palm.
He struggles to make out the details in the darkness, but he finally distinguishes the object as a half completed white flower, made of fabric ragged at the edges, clearly torn from Uryu's robe.
He looks at it for a few moments, and there is a lump in his throat.
Reaching down, he tears off a piece of the black shihakusho that had been dangling off at his ankle. "It'll need leaves."
Uryu takes the piece of fabric silently, picking up his needle again. "Go to sleep, Kurosaki."
He smiles.
