Word Count: 5964
Inspiration / Notes: This time I picked a line from Radiohead's song Idioteque for the title (which, in case you didn't know, is also the song Tite Kubo chose for Ishida), but the main inspiration for this chapter was Powerless (the Remix) by Linkin Park.
Sub-Chapters: Jūshirō - Yumichika - Byakuya - Tesla - Shūhei
- SEVEN: I'LL LAUGH UNTIL MY HEAD COMES OFF -
- Jūshirō -
Jūshirō loves words. Letters combined into greater units that carry meaning, which, in many situations, are more powerful than fists or guns.
When in thoughts and looking at people, his mind always comes up with beautiful words, ones that best describe the essence of his counterpart.
And now, staring out of the window of his brand-new second office at Karakura's high-school, his head's doing it once again.
This time, however, Jūshirō tries to fend off the words that come to mind because this time they're not beautiful in the least and it so doesn't fit his personality to even think them.
Discontent has been corrupting his mood ever since he saw them together for the first time, but at the moment this discontent is about to turn into pain, a full-blown heart-ache.
Shunsui and the sports teacher.
Down there they're kissing in the middle of the schoolyard, and again these poisoned words creep into Jūshirō's consciousness and defile his thoughts.
The white-haired doesn't want to behave like a jealous boyfriend, though, and decides to quietly wait for what inevitably is to come soon enough – Shunsui (that cheating son of a bitch) will eventually get bored with the outspoken (rude), uninhibited (slutty), pretty-looking (tarted up) girl (nymphomaniac).
So what is there to worry about, actually?
Jūshirō, with a touch of pride coming over him, knows exactly that he is the only one that managed to keep Shunsui around and happy for longer than a month.
For almost twenty years, in fact.
That being mentally said, Jūshirō feels a tiny bit better and even manages to avert his gaze, walking over to the other window in his office to stare out of it for a nicer view, since that's what he always does when being busy thinking.
There's a character on his mind he wants to develop further in order to make it the second protagonist of his novel, after finally having decided on the main character and chosen to make her a girl.
So there's a boy needed then, isn't it? A young man, strong, clever, easy to relate to… but of course not perfect in the least.
The flaws are what interests Jūshirō the most in a person, and therefore he fills his own creations up with them to a point where nothing boring can be found in the character anymore.
Weaknesses, a troubled soul, anger and guilt… maybe a tiny bit like himself, the white-haired thinks, always finding it to be very funny when he comes to realize he's making each character up from a part of himself.
In order to get away from that unintentional habit, he decided to look at other people within his social environment more as reference.
The boy Kira who appears to be unhappy for yet unknown reasons, or skinny-looking Ayasegawa that keeps almost falling asleep during class, and Kaien of course, who has to struggle with his heart-disease and who takes care of his entire family alone… perfect inspiration, even though Jūshirō feels sad for each and every one of them.
Maybe there's a chance of making them feel better somehow, he wonders as he watches a figure step up in the school's backyard he has never seen around.
Cyan-blue dyed hair, biker jacket, combat boots…
for some reason that man's appearance reminds Jūshirō of Zaraki when he was young. The archetypal rebel.
Too old to be a student, too young to be a parent, though… what's he doing here in front of a high-school then?
And the white-haired's growing suspicion only gets stronger when, all of a sudden, the blue-haired man is roughly grabbed by the sleeve of his leather jacket and pulled closer to the building.
Aizen? What business would he have with a person like this?
Jūshirō, opening the window, casts away the thought about this young man being Aizen's son or something similar, since the mathematics teacher appears to be a little too young to have an adult child.
With his office being located in the second floor he is able to hear a few scraps of the conversation being held down there; while Aizen most obviously is concerned about keeping the noise down, the blue-haired doesn't care all too much about discretion.
»But I'm not… we fuckin' need more – bad enough – yeah, it's goin' well, but still…« Jūshirō overhears, not understanding what the two men are apparently fighting about.
Then Aizen raises his voice as well, yelling at the man to pack off and never drop by at his workplace ever again, and that's the last thing he sees from the strange blue-haired punk.
Alright… what kind of problem would Sōsuke Aizen have with people of such uncommon appearance? Not that he's one for prejudice, but still it seems disjointed for a person like Aizen to have any connection to punks, or whoever the blue-haired might be.
Jūshirō has no idea what to make of it but instead of investigating rather decides to not waste any further thoughts on the matter since he has his own issues that demand attention.
Marking some exams, preparing a few lessons… and he has to be at university in about one and a half hours after all.
Luckily he has always been good with stress- and time-management, he thinks, taking out a stack of exams he generously has agreed to take a look at for Shunsui, since the artist certainly has no idea how to handle the formal aspects of being a teacher.
Well, fair enough, he mentally sighs and wants to start reading when suddenly his cellphone vibrates twice in his pocket, indicating a new message.
Are you free this evening? I loved talking to you, and wonder if we may repeat it? it reads there and for some reason Jūshirō's mood lightens up immediately. He did enjoy talking to Kira-kun as well after all.
This evening… well, then this would be the very first time ever Jūshirō would be the one to cancel a date with his lover.
- Yumichika -
That would be a whole 312, then maybe 30, plus the salad, that's at least another 22… Yumichika looks up from his plate and happens to stare directly into light brown, attentive eyes that fixate him.
His counterpart certainly displays this irritated facial expression for good reason, Yumichika admits to himself and then, slowly but with a touch of determination, pushes the fork into one single leaf of lettuce and brings it up to his mouth, still contemplating if he even wants to start eating his meal at all. He's not hungry after all.
»For how long are you intending to do that?«
»Huh?«
»Not talking to me and staring into your food you're not going to eat anyway. That's pointless, why are you even sitting with me if you're not going to speak a single word?« Tesla Lindocruz starts complaining about Yumichika's new, strange habit of, on a whim of his, spending the lunch break at cafeteria with him ever since they had it off at the restrooms approximately a week ago.
Without a single word, and the model didn't even ask him whether it was okay for him or not. It was Yumichika after all who told Tesla to stay the fuck away from him and act like they don't know each other.
»I mean, it's not that I mind your company, but – « the honey-blond man starts again but rudely gets interrupted by Yumichika clicking his tongue faking annoyance.
»What's your problem, actually, Ayasegawa?«
»I don't have one. All I want is some tranquility, so will you please shut up?«
»You're a bitch, do you know that?«
»Sure I know that. Hm, as if I didn't know that. I'm doing it fully on purpose.«
»But why?«
»Well… for what reason are you trying to act like a bad-ass little asshole, Tesla-chan?« Yumichika retorts and puts the fork he's holding back down to take a sip of water instead, »I can see right through you, Mr Nice-Guy.«
»I'm not… but… but that still doesn't justify you treating me like this! Now I definitely understand how you got your reputation round here, Mr Arrogant Bitch.«
Yumichika just shrugs, he doesn't care in the least about how his fellows view him as long as nobody calls him ugly or a variation of the word. Secretly they'd all die for the mere chance of having lunch with me.
»Fine, okay. Then talk to me if you want to so dearly. You start and I decide whether I want to keep listening to you or not.«
»That's so… – gods« Tesla sighs and dips the last one of his fries into the light-red mix of ketchup and mayonnaise on his plate, »you're such an exhausting individual to be with, do you know that? But alright… let's talk, yeah. How about you tell me where you're from as a start? Or maybe why you chose to study languages, or…« the blond guy starts talking away, obviously genuinely interested in keeping Yumichika around for some reason (that's the nice-guy genes, of course), but the violet-haired already stopped listening at the first few words.
Something else catches his attention, something that's definitely more worth it – his favorite professor just entered the cafeteria, together with his favorite lecturer, and they're chatting with each other while they walk and pick out a table only a few feet away from Yumichika's.
What a nice distraction, though, he thinks, happy about the opportunity to get away from these sinister thoughts that have been swimming around in his head all day long.
Yumi can't keep himself from scanning the two men head to toes to then decide that they both look magnificent and highly desirable in their casual suits once again, but he casts that thought away again immediately as it certainly is unhealthy and a tiny bit pathetic to fancy one's teachers.
Sure Tesla notices at some point that he's not being listened to and that his counterpart is staring right through him once again; he turns around in order to look for the cause of him being ignored so rudely and immediately finds it.
»They're always to be found alongside each other« he notes, joining Yumichika in surveying the professors.
»Yeah, sure. If I was working here I'd choose to hang out with Ukitake-Sensei and Shiba-Sensei as well.«
»So? And I though you weren't one for the nice guys?«
»And I still am not, but that man's got something about him I simply… ah, I know – it's that effortless beauty combined with keen intelligence, plus the hair, of course.«
»I see« Tesla shrugs a little unimpressed which causes Yumichika to surmise »well, so you're not one for nice people as well, hm?«
»Plus I'm not gay, really.«
»Yeah, of course not. Me neither« Yumichika absentmindedly mocks Tesla, still eyes bound to the two men sitting across the room; Tesla generously ignores the remark and snatches some fries from Yumichika's plate as he knows from earlier observations that the handsome guy won't eat them himself anyway.
»Most of the people here think they're having an affair« he then casually drops, hoping to regain Yumichika's attention like this.
»Hm?«
»Shiba and Ukitake. That they're… you know.«
»No, I really don't think they do.«
»Oh, you must know.«
»I do. It so happens that I have a fairly good gay-dar, and Shiba is definitely straight. He's dating that one woman, I've seen them around the Soul Palace at times« Yumichika states, remembering the pretty female who apparently is Shiba's fiancee; she suits the young lecturer after all.
»Whatever. Did you notice how he was struggling through last week's lecture? Shiba I mean?« Yumi then throws in, remembering the lecturer's constant coughing-fits, »worse than Ukitake at times even, and that's something.«
»Maybe he picked up something from his superior?«
»Well, I'm pretty sure that his lung disease isn't contagious. He wouldn't be teaching if it were, would he.«
»Got a point there. Well… then it might just be an ordinary cold, don't you think so?«
»Perhaps. It just confused me a little because usually Shiba is all energetic and enthusiastic in his job…« Yumichika wonders, and at that his train of thoughts once again arrives at that one other man that also has those characteristics and whom Yumi considers all nice and good-looking and friendly as well.
Namely Shūhei Hisagi.
One of Yumichika's closest friends, who, curse him, decided to bluntly tell him he'd like nothing more than to get into his pants. Well, he didn't phrase it that bluntly, actually, but that was the message behind his clumsy utterances on their 'date' and on the angry phone-call Yumichika made afterwards.
Damn, back to that matter it is, and only because Shiba's spiky black hair resembles Hisagi's to a T. Better stare at Ukitake's long and white ones again for distraction.
»However… Ayasegawa?«
»Lindocruz?«
»Would you mind if I ate your fries?« Tesla politely asks after almost ten minutes of silence between them that once again occurred because of Yumichika being entirely absentminded with growing anger about Hisagi.
Liar. Asshole, fool, stupid.
»Sure, go ahead, I'm not hungry anyway« Yumi answers with an indifferent shrug and Tesla, obviously happy about the free second course, pulls his plate over.
»You're never hungry, are you?« And Yumichika hates himself and his sick mind for the silent answer to this question which his brain immediately comes up with.
Of course not. Models don't get hungry, stupid.
xxxxxxxxxxx
»Professor?«
»Come in, Ayasegawa-kun. Nice to see you, how are you?« Ukitake-Sensei warmly welcomes his most eager student in his office, having Yumichika's seminar paper lying open on his desk.
The young man takes a seat on the other side of the desk, unable to hide his nervousness about the situation since this one critique somehow feels like his life depended on it.
And like every time Yumichika Ayasegawa is nervous, his eyelids start to flutter all by themselves, his cheeks flush a little and the tension causes him to pucker his lips and slightly chew on them, giving him the looks of a jumpy little bird in a way.
Ukitake throws a scrutinizing look upon him for a few seconds, admittedly feeling a little irritated by his counterpart's facial expression because he, like every other man in this world would as well, interprets it a bit wrong.
»Fine… well, can I be blunt, Ayasegawa-kun?«
»Ahm, of course, Sir.«
»I am very impressed with your writing talent, and with the direction you took as well. Alice in Wonderland certainly is one of my all-time favorites, and to interpret it on such a down-to-earth level I'd almost call mundane… drugs, violence, depression… scarily reasonable, I really like your work.«
Yumichika needs a few seconds to process what his professor and mentor-of-choice has just said. He… liked it? »Really?«
»Why are you so surprised about it?« The pretty man doesn't have an answer, though; of course he is confident in himself. Overly confident and cocky, as Ikkaku likes to point out, and disgustingly conceited, as many other people think, but as soon as university is concerned… where nothing else but what's in one's head counts, neither beauty nor charm…
»I just… ahm, thank you, Sensei.«
»You're very welcome. However – « the white-haired starts again and a painful surge of adrenaline rushes through Yumi's body, gathering in his stomach pit.
There's a but?
»I honestly think you're overstraining yourself, Yumichika-kun. Though your results are always more than pleasing, I think you should not… exhaust yourself so much.«
Once again Jūshirō surveys the other man's face, finding dark circles under all the powdery make-up, and sad-seeming eyes covered in color and coal that look back at him. So, unable to reign in his fatherly instincts, Jūshirō Ukitake just has to inquire.
»You seem as if you were under a lot of stress recently.«
»Well« Yumichika starts, wondering whether he should admit the fact that his professor is spot-on with his assumptions, or once again mark the strong man and downplay his poor state of mind. »It's true that I haven't gotten much sleep during the last nights. The modeling, the homework, and some trouble with friends of mine…« he flatly explains, hoping that the other man won't go any further in asking.
Damn Shūhei, for upsetting him so much that it even shows through his dense facade of make-up, conceit and bitchiness.
»Oh, I see« Jūshirō states, displaying a friendly smile meant to cheer his counterpart up a bit, »I almost forgot about your primary profession.«
»It's not primary, Sir, I'm only doing this in order to be able to afford studying here. Really, I… just hate it at the moment, even though it all worked out much to my great profit.«
»Then you maybe should not be doing it, if it makes you unhappy?«
»No, it's not that I… it actually is a passion of mine, I just… need to find the spark inside of me again and everything will be fine. That's just the stress, the impending exams, the guys…« Yumichika keeps defending his interim-career of choice; Jūshirō nods understandingly, accepting the other one's reasons.
»Alright, then just don't worry so much about everything since it is obviously going well. I loved your seminar paper and am looking forward to reading the end-result. Maybe take a day off every once in a while? And… if I can do anything to ease the pressure, just tell me, Ayasegawa-kun« he then offers just as his kind nature suggests, and can't help it but feel deep satisfaction when his counterpart, this fragile-looking, handsome boy, smiles back at him.
That's what Jūshirō Ukitake does when not being happy himself – making others happy instead.
xxxxxxxxxxx
Later on, coming after his professor's suggestion to grant himself some free-time every once in a while, Yumichika finds himself in an empty training-room of Ikkaku's gym, with just an USB-stick in his hands, a stereo and the leggings he's wearing. Dancing. Another major passion of his. And the only thing that is able to really free his mind.
- Byakuya -
After accidentally brushing the warm, green grass with his hands while trying to adjust the jacket he's currently sitting on, and finding the sensation to be quite pleasurable and therefore doing it again on purpose afterwards, Byakuya Kuchiki looks up, meeting auburn eyes.
»You wanna?« Renji Abarai asks with his voice sounding dull and strange due to the smoke which he inhaled and now is keeping in his lungs.
The redhead holds the joint directly in front of Byakuya's face and waves it a little. Why not, the young noble thinks and takes it, making good on the promise he gave himself some days ago.
Time for a change.
The strange, warm sensation that starts to spread on his scalp and quickly extends to all of his body flashes him quite a bit; of course he has to ask Abarai about whether this is normal or not when smoking weed as Byakuya has never done it before.
»Sure, perfectly normal. Just lean back an' enjoy« the more experienced man suggests and Byakuya tries hard to come after it.
Not always analyzing every little thing to death is one of the changes he intends to make.
Just do it, he thinks, just like the producers of his counterpart's shoes always claim so nicely in their advertisements.
And Renji Abarai, after all, appears to be an interesting individual, just like he expected. Uncouth, rude, loud and reckless for sure, but there is definitely something about the younger man's nature and style that Byakuya finds to be quite desirable. Desirable meaning worth striving for, of course.
This ease, levity, not wasting any thoughts to troubling matters… never paying his rent but instead purchasing heaps of nonsense that serves for nothing but his personal fun. And the constant weed-smoking certainly adds to this man's laid-back attitude.
Before Byakuya can go on agonizing about what on earth could be Abarai's secret of life, his brain begins to work slower, his limbs grow heavier and all in all he feels like leaning back and relaxing.
But that would only ruin his suit.
»Ya know… always wondered how you'd manage to deal with all this stuff, Kuchiki. Money, houses, flats, documents… ya sure havin' a whole lotta work every day, eh? And it must be horribly boring on top of that… che, and then there's a bunch of assholes like me that make it even more difficult for ya.«
»That's just how it is« the black-haired shrugs, confused about Abarai's sudden condolence and feeling kind of unable to talk and think properly at the moment, »to me what I do is not boring in the least, though. I never knew anything else.«
»Kinda sad, then. Well, and I never knew anything besides this – slacking off and doing whatever I wanted. Following my dream, you know. I did, after all, and I'm pretty much enjoying it. Grew up with that thought in my head – freedom and fun, isn't that what life is all about?«
»Maybe« Byakuya just shrugs, seriously wanting to further think about the other man's statements but simply being unable to do so since every time he tries, he loses his train of thoughts immediately again as if he was having the worst short-term-memory ever.
Hopefully this is just another side-effect of being high, if that's what he is right now.
»I mean, all of my friends are doin' it, too… there's Kira who always wanted to be a surgeon, and he's on the best way of becoming one. Hisagi founded a childish school-magazine back then when we started elementary school, and now he's a journalist...
...Madarame has his own fitness studio that he loves beyond words, and Ayasegawa's a model and earns a ton of money only with his good looks. Oh, and that guy I've recently made friends with, Kurosaki, even wants to save the world, or something like that. Yeah, and me… I'm perfectly happy with my motorcycles, absolutely love it all.«
»Sounds good« Byakuya faintly answers, searching his brain for stories about his friends he could share with the redhead, but there are none to be found.
All his slow mind comes up with at the moment – »I once had a fiancee. She was a painter with all her heart.«
»Oh, did you? Where's she at now? Ran away because of you being a freaking workaholic?« Renji immediately jests with a wink in his eyes, but when he spots the change of expression in the other man's face, he drops the teasing.
Sadness.
»She died« Byakuya just flatly and somewhat coldly answers and then quickly looks away to not let any further emotion show as he sure isn't one to be sentimental, especially not when other people can see it.
He doesn't even know why he picked up the topic in the first place. Another side-effect, being overly emotional?
Maybe you just need somebody to talk after all these years of silence a voice inside his head whispers, and it sounds dangerously similar to Hisana's.
Byakuya screws up his eyes.
»A painter you say? Was she good?« Abarai asks all the sudden and Byakuya can but be grateful for the slight change of topic.
»Very good, I loved her work« he answers, thinking about how proud he always was of her every time she finished one of her artworks. And also how proud he is of Rukia, who definitely inherited her older sister's creativity.
»She followed her dream as well, like you said you and your friends all do.«
»And what about you, Kuchiki? Do you?«
»I don't know.«
»What's your dream?«
»Becoming the person I'm supposed to be, I guess. A good person.«
»And you're not?«
»Not quite, yet. But I'm getting closer to it, I feel.«
Renji chuckles, nodding, and hands him another, new joint.
And Byakuya Kuchiki, making these changes he swore he would, takes it with a tiny smile on his lips. To him this feels as if the fun-loving redhead just asked him friends? through that gesture and Byakuya, looking forward to adding some color to his life (starting with red, exactly), did say yes.
- Tesla -
It's dark down here, and cold, even though it's a bright summer's evening outside. This cellar smells of moss, dirty water and spray-paint, Tesla thinks, feeling a tiny bit nervous but nevertheless closely follows a masked person who is leading him towards a dimly lit room.
There's ragged sofas standing around and tacky, dated lava-lamps, some desks with cardboard boxes on them and a polished-looking MacBook Air that displays the familiar logo as a screen-saver.
Alright.
So there's this guy almost enthroned on one of the leather chairs staring at him immediately after he enters the room; very light-blue eyes that almost look supernatural pierce him and make a shiver run down his spine.
That's definitely the leader, then, Tesla assumes by the man's looks and demeanor.
He doesn't wear his trademark mask right now, instead it lies in his lap, flat against his gut, resembling a panther's set of teeth.
»Oh, look at that« the cyan-haired starts to speak all the sudden, the sharp voice echoing dully through the big chamber. All the other people that have seemed busy up until now turn around all of a sudden at the words of their boss and immediately appear interested in the new guy as well.
Tesla feels horribly uncomfortable, can't recall a situation where he ever wanted to run away so badly like he does now.
But that's not an option, of course not. He's here because he wants to be, entirely willingly, because he has something in mind, and he can call himself lucky they invited him here.
He wants one of these white masks as well.
Vast Lords is spray-painted all over the gray walls, the black arrow-logo, the Hollow Soul, is to be found in every corner down here.
On a huge pin-board there are pictures hung up, showing people Tesla recognizes – Ishida, leader of Karakura's hospital; Yamamoto, mayor of the city and the local high-school's headteacher; Kuchiki Senior, real-estate mogul… some other faces that don't look as familiar to him…
»So you wanna play with us for a bit, boy?« he is addressed once again and startles, looking at the cyan-haired again quickly. »I'm Grimmjow. That tall fucker over there's Nnoitra, and the two of us are callin' the shots in here. Got that?«
»S… sure« Tesla stumbles out, ashamed of his trembling voice and growing even more nervous at that.
Damn, think bad-ass he keeps saying to himself, but it is not quite working at the moment. Has it ever, besides the few short minutes in which he somehow managed to hook up with Ayasegawa?
»So, Tesla Lindocruz it is, right?«
»Yes, exactly.«
»You actually are quite a lucky fellow« the man with the large eye-patch instead of a mask, whom Grimmjow introduced as Nnoitra, enters the conversation, »I'm actually lookin' for some personal support at the moment. Picked the right time for askin' us if you can join.«
»Che, wanna make him ya new private slave?« Grimmjow immediately interjects, with Nnoitra responding with a cold snort.
»If that's what you wanna call it… so, how does that sound, boy? I'm gonna try you out for a week or two and then we decide what we'll do with you. It all depends on how satisfying ya work is, nothin' else, alright? I'm sure you've already been informed 'bout our policy?«
And again Tesla obediently nods.
»Fine… then why don't you take a seat right here, boy?« the lean, black-haired man offers, grinning like the death in person, all insincere and cunning, like an insect that is trying to lure its prey into a trap.
Tesla, however, comes after the offer, of course.
xxxxxxxxxxx
The people down here all look a million times more threatening and tough than he does, Tesla notes after carefully observing each and every one of them for several minutes.
While Grimmjow and Nnoitra are chatting about weird things, business probably, Tesla lets his eyes wander all around the room once again.
That huge guy that looks like a gorilla in a way, with black hair and orange chin-beard and eyebrows… better not get under his fists.
The one with the ruffle-coat, wearing a bar-shaped mask to cover up most part of his face… Tesla doesn't want to know what is under it.
Two girls, rather young-looking, with skimpy skirts and tons of make-up in their partially covered faces, busy themselves with a guy that doesn't seem to care for their company in the slightest… how pale that guy is… there is nothing but pure indifference in his bright, turquoise eyes.
Then there's a blond man with really pretty long hair and tan skin who doesn't look like he belongs here at all and only stares at the tablet on his lap, mask lying disregarded on the table, chuckling darkly at times… better not wonder what he's watching or reading there.
Three strange men whose faces or masks he can't see, hang around on YouTube, checking out biking-stunts or something similar…
»Hah, tell me, little guy… ever did anythin' worth being mentioned?« Nnoitra wants to know and again Tesla startles; this time takes him longer to regain his composure again.
»Ahm… don't know« he sheepishly answers, hoping that it doesn't come across as pathetic-sounding as it does in his head.
»No? No noteworthy trips, actions, anything?«
Roughly guessing that trips didn't mean his last vacation in Italy, Tesla searches his mind for an acceptable answer that would make them believe he isn't that much of a total loser. And well…
»I once had sex with a model« he mumbles without previous thinking, hoping this would count.
And immediately Grimmjow's attentive and somewhat scary blue eyes are piercing him once again with something Tesla would carefully call interest in what he has to say.
Nnoitra just huffs. »Sure, who hasn't« he sarcastically utters, and Tesla feels the need to somehow prove his statement right.
»He's on the cover of Lichtregen at the moment« the honey-blond informs them, remembering Ayasegawa reading said magazine of Karakura's most famous fashion-company Sternritter just three days ago, of course mainly to admire himself on the cover-page at that.
As soon as the words leave Tesla's mouth, he regrets them already. Dammit, hopefully these modern gangsters aren't as homophobic anymore.
»Oh, can this be for real?« Nnoitra says, smiling scornfully, remembering said edition of the magazine lying on Grimmjow's desk earlier this week, »now that's what I call an interesting coincidence! There ya go, Jaeger, send him to hell for it!«
The cyan-haired, possibly contemplating Nnoitra's suggestion, is now outright skewering the younger one with his death-glare.
»How come you know him?« Grimmjow asks with a hiss in his voice that reminds Tesla of an angry cat threatening its enemy. Well, Tesla did definitely not expect Grimmjow to react like this. Call him a fag or whatever, maybe, but that question?
»Ahm… from university, he's a classmate of mine and we are… friends. I'm not gay. Really.«
»And he fucks you?« Grimmjow goes on questioning him, ignoring the remark about Tesla's sexuality and growing angrier and angrier for a reason Tesla can't grasp. How come he knows the god-damn prettyboy?
»Well, we just… we're not, like…« he helplessly tries to defend himself but Grimmjow doesn't seem pleased.
»Whatever. I really don't fuckin' care. Just keep the fuck away from him, understand me?«
»Ahm… okay, sure. It's not that we're close or anything – « Tesla wants to start again, ruefully thinking about exchanging numbers with Ayasegawa yesterday, but before he can finish his sentence of vindication, Grimmjow has already stood up and walked away, leaving Tesla completely confused with this strong reaction.
»Wow, I'm impressed« Nnoitra then snickers, »first few minutes in here and you already managed to piss off Jaegerjaquez. Respect. I have a feeling we'll have a good time workin' together.«
»But what – how exactly did I – «
»Che, just hit on a raw nerve there. He's all dotty about that little cross-dressing whore for some reason.«
- Shūhei -
Seriously, what the freaking hell is wrong with him lately? Shūhei really has no answer to it and just keeps pressing the o-button on the PlayStation-controller that lies in his hands.
He absolutely sucks at Call of Duty and sees the only way of surviving the coop-mode in lying down and not moving until Suì-Fēng has finished off the forty-third wave of these horribly annoying fuckers that, for whatever reason, try to shoot their virtual selves. Well.
Tomorrow is his day off, so he could just as well go out and have fun, but what is he doing? Hanging out with his goddamn overly annoying co-worker, playing stupid video-games (and getting his ass whipped by the girl sitting next to him at it, dammit!).
Seriously?
»BAM!« Suì-Fēng shouts when blowing the last enemy's head off with her much beloved ACR 6.8 while Shūhei's gaming-character is still pressing his face against the ground.
»Can we stop this now?« he faintly begs while she goes into another rave about how her last kill looked exactly like the one Yoruichi-sama pulled off in her latest action movie.
He should have better taken Kira's offer to keep his company while studying and occasionally getting nicely comforted by the compassionate blond for feeling strangely heartbroken because Yumichika badly turned him down and now most obviously hates him.
However… Shūhei's sitting here instead, next to Suì-Fēng, who is ecstatic about some pointless video game, and her incredibly smug roommate who is laughing about him for various reasons ever since he set foot into their flat.
»Oh come on« Suì-Fēng suddenly interrupts Shūhei in his thoughts by roughly pricking him in the side, »don't you act so goddamn pathetic! Whining about the matter and pitying yourself won't get you anywhere!«
And once again he deeply regrets letting her in on his problems, for whatever reason he felt this to be necessary in the first place.
Damn, should have stayed with Kira, Hisagi notes once again, his ex-boyfriend's suggestions have at least been a tiny bit helpful. Drinking and partying, distraction, somehow.
But this right here… exactly, it's him being pathetic.
Once again Ōmaeda sounds a throaty, deriding laugh. »And with these nonexistent skills of yours on the battlefield, that chick you fancy sure won't ever want you! What are you gonna do when there's a zombie-apocalypse? Huh? Huh?«
»Shut up« Shūhei furiously spits at the less well-informed Ōmaeda and puts the controller aside as he is totally sick of showing Suì-Fēng how incapable he is with the shot-gun slash joystick by now, plus he was hating that stupid game from the very start.
As if it took sniping-skills and decent aiming to impress Yumichika. He would only laugh about him and call him a geek.
For the hundredth time this evening, his eyes wander down to his smartphone which is lying right next to him so that he wouldn't miss a single thing – messages, calls, Facebook, WhatsApp, even dropping by at his place… in every way possible he has tried to reach Yumichika over the last few days.
Seen: 7:49 it reads under the last message he sent him.
But of course Yumichika is doing it on purpose, torturing him by bluntly ignoring him, Shūhei is more than certain. He knows the pretty man quite well after all, being friends with him for almost five years now, and psychological warfare sounds very much like him.
Modern Warfare indeed, dammit.
Maybe he should give that shitty game another try.
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN.
So, again thank you for reading! I really came to enjoy writing Suì-Fēng and Shūhei together, she's so out of character, I feel, but it strangely fits her personality nonetheless. Comic relief has always been one of my most favorite stylistic devices, in fact.
Next Week: Grimmjow reconsiders his life-choices - Ikkaku gets a glimpse at Kenpachi's obscure past - Kira gets a dubious promotion - Ichigo finally finds something he's good at - Shunsui realizes he screwed up.
