A/N: Okay, so I was asked by a lot of people for a second chapter so I kind of thought… you know, what the hell… So here we go. Second (and last) chapter of A Toast Gone Kablooey.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
Byakuya woke the next morning in his bed with no idea how he had gotten there. He attempted to open his eyes but was immediately stopped by the intense pain coming from his forehead.
He cracked open his eyes. Dear Kami, the sun was bright. He slowly slid his eyes over to the curtain, which was firmly closed. Where was that infernal sunlight coming from? He didn't know.
He looked down at himself. He was wearing nothing but his white underrobe.
What had he been doing last night?
He sat up slowly, every movement causing his muscles to creak. Squinting, he groped around on his bedside table for his kenseikan, which he immediately secured to his head. A sense of nobility flowed instantly through him, and was instantly pushed out by the satanic pain ricocheting through his mind.
He groaned as he saw his shihakusho on the floor, crumpled and ungainly-looking. His white captain's haori was draped over the edge of his covers, half on the floor. The bottom hem was closest to him, and through squinty eyes he saw an odd brown stain covering the bottom. He couldn't wear that! And what in the world was the stain from, anyway?
He had a horrible feeling that the captain of squad 8, that infernal man Kyoraku, would know the answers to all of Byakuya's questions. He stood – or attempted to stand. His scarf was tied around his legs. He fell over, the pain pounding away through his brain, and laid on the floor for a moment, catching his breath. He then untied his scarf from around his ankles and stood, his horrible balance making him sway slightly, and dressed in his shihakusho and scarf. Folding this haori gingerly and holding it at an arm's length from his person, he wobbled over to his closet and hesitantly drew out that horrible pair of sunglasses that Renji had bought for him years ago. He looked in disgust at the heart-shaped lenses, and swallowing bile in his throat, pushed them on his face.
Immediately the pain in his head diminished a little. Keeping his head down in shame, he crossed the room and opened the door.
Thankfully no one was about. Feeling glad of the speed of his shunpo, Byakuya wasted no time flashing to the squad 8 barracks, ignoring the pounding in his head at every step. He arrived at Kyoraku's office and immediately crumpled to the floor, holding his forehead in agony. He heard Senbonzakura's amused chuckle reverberate through his mind before he looked up.
Jûshirô Ukitaki and Shunsui Kyoraku were looking down on him with highly amused expressions on their faces. He groaned inwardly.
"HELLO, BYAKUYA!" Kyoraku shouted.
"WE HAD A FEELING YOU MIGHT SHOW UP SOONER OR LATER," Ukitake added at the top of his voice.
"NICE SUNGLASSES," Kyoraku added with a snicker.
Byakuya pressed his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes closed. "Please. Must you shout?" he croaked, his voice paper-thin and rasping.
Ukitake gave a booming laugh. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, CAPTAIN KUCHIKI? THIS IS MY NORMAL TONE! !"
Byakuya pressed his hands harder against the sides of his head. "Silence!" he commanded in a whisper.
Kyoraku sighed loudly. "Humor him, Ukitake," he murmured to his white-haired colleague. "I've got a bit of a hangover myself."
"I'd be surprised if you didn't, considering how drunk you were last night," Ukitake laughed.
Hangover? Drunk? Was that what had happened? Byakuya gingerly pried his hands away from his ears and stared at the captains from behind the lenses of his horrible sunglasses.
"Was I actually drunk last night?" he asked in bewilderment.
As Byakuya asked that question, Kyoraku found that he had suddenly developed a mysterious and unknown cough.
"You may want to cover you mouth when you cough, you never know when it could become dangerous or fatal," Ukitake said seriously.
"Answer me!" Byakuya commanded, and then winced at the sound of his own voice.
"No, Byakuya, you were not drunk," Kyoraku said seriously. "You have learned the power of teleporting."
"Teleporting?"
"Yes. It's very simple. All you have to do is consume alcohol until you feel you are about to pass out. Then drink some more and you will magically wake up in your bed!"
"So I was drunk."
"Allow me to show you," said Ukitake gleefully, coming around behind Byakuya and putting his hands on his shoulders. Wide-eyed, Byakuya turned in alarm to see the frail, grinning captain's face.
"Please remove your hands from my person," Byakuya said.
Obediently, Ukitake raised his hands about one centimeter from Byakuya's shoulder. "Kyoraku, you have the tape ready?" he said.
"Yes, old friend," Kyoraku said happily. He walked over to the corner, and Ukitake followed him. Desperate not to be touched by the man, Byakuya moved slightly ahead of him like he was a sheep being herded.
Kyoraku settled him down in front of a wide screen and pressed a button.
"Enjoy," he said, and both the captains sat back to watch the aristocrat's expression.
Byakuya watched as the tape started. Mind reeling, he quickly picked himself out from the crowd. He was holding a bottle made of brown glass. As he watched, he saw himself drop the glass and giggle as the brown liquid inside splashed on the hem of his expensive coat.
Giggle? ?
"Oopsie daisy," his drunk self said.
Byakuya turned to the captain's faces, his expression one of pure horror.
At this, Ukitake couldn't help but crack up. He fell over backwards, laughing, while Kyoraku watched him with an amused expression on his face.
Horrified, Byakuya turned back to the television in time to see himself attempt to pop, lock, and drop it. He groaned in horror.
"My career is over," he moaned.
"So, Byakuya," Kyoraku said with a little grin, "wanna go drinking tonight?"
"NO!"
LOL! Please review!
