See, I'm such an awesome person. I've got the next chapter up in a week! Yay. This is really quite the huge deal, you know. : ) Because usually I don't work this fast.

And I'm happy with this chapter. It's long, too!

Slight spoilers for the recent chapters in Bleach. Involving Renji's battle with Mr. Eight. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then you probably won't even notice. : )

Much love to nostalgic-maiden for editing this chapter. During TIK as well! You know, it's really weird if you're watching someone read your work in front of you. Seriously. You have no idea. I have never felt as self conscious as I did about my writing before.

Ever.

Anyway. Enjoy the chapter!

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No Strings Attached
Chapter 7 - Point in Weakness

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"The world hates me, Mats'moto," Renji declared, slamming his finished bottle of sake on the table, and gesturing the bartender for another one, "Cause there's no other way to explain why my life's goin' down the fucking drain."

And Renji was absolutely confident in his statement.

Because the last eighteen days had been pure and utter hell, and there was no way things like that happened to just anyone unless the Entire Universe had something against that particular person.

It wasn't bad enough that his last encounter with Noriko had been such a nasty and bitter one. After his initial anger had worn off, Renji had finally realized just how screwed their relationship was. There was no way any couple - or even friends, family, anything - could survive if their first major fight had ended with both of then practically stabbing the other in the stomach with a verbal knife.

Sure, Noriko had acted like a complete psycho (yes, psycho). And yes, she had crossed whatever imaginary line that existed between making a person feel bad and making a person hate himself. But then again, Renji had done the exact same thing - sure, it may have been because she had practically shoved him into a corner, but he had.

And it was then that he had remembered with a dry throat what Noriko had said.

"I haven't been on a field mission for months."

Noriko hadn't been on a field mission for months. Meaning that she might get hurt. Meaning, worst case scenario, she might die, seeing that the 3rd Division dealt with District 49 to District 62, and those were the areas mostly plagued with bandits.

Bandits with zanpakutous.

Sometimes he wished he had had the common sense in asking to see Noriko's skills. But not in a totally obvious way like, "Yo. Noriko. Show me what your sword can do," because he may have been a bit dense, but he wasn't a total idiot.

No, he could've asked her for a sparring match, so he "didn't get rusty," or ask her to test out a new move (which would've most likely been an old one which she knew nothing about). He knew that members of the 3rd Division tended to be the one with the well rounded officers, but he also knew that Noriko specialized in kidou - the only strand in the whole shinigami business that Renji knew nothing about.

But whatever.

He should have said something. Something stupid that Noriko would probably have seen through, but would indulge him with anyway. Something that would let him see her level of strength. Something so he didn't go to sleep every night wondering if she had died, and they had never gotten a chance to apologize.

Especially since she had promised she'd be back in a week (maybe two days more, maximum), and currently, it was getting eerily close to the end of week number three.

Renji supposed he could've gone to Kira and asked about her - it wasn't really a secret that he and Noriko had something going on - and it wasn't really his pride that was stopping him.

It was more the fact that the day when Renji had thought, If she's not back in one more day, then I'm goin' right up there an' beatin' the information outta him, he heard the news that 8th Division reinforcements were bring sent out also. But the situation wasn't big enough to get the higher officers involved (higher meaning lieutenants and up), so there wasn't a real threat.

Sadly, that knowledge didn't help him at all.

And hearing that made him more nervous in finding out what was going on, since he may not like the answer.

He supposed he was somewhat of a coward that way.

That would explain why he threw himself into work like the world would end if he didn't, but still did something incredibly lame like carrying around the ribbon that Noriko usually braided into her hair.

It was kept out of sight, of course. He knew that if Ikkaku - or God forbid, Matsumoto - found out about it, there'd be no living it down. But he couldn't find it in him to leave it alone, and found himself doing stupid things like using her hairbrush - which, strangely enough, made him feel better and worse at the same time.

Renji wondered when he had gotten so corny.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, every other thing in his life seemed to be working in super mode to make him go insane.

It was bad enough that his relationship with Noriko was in tatters. But then he realized that everything else was starting to close in on him too.

Noriko may have been a huge part of his life - but she didn't take up his entire life. Renji had other people too, and he was realizing just how much he had to lose if he didn't start to get his act together soon.

And, if that wasn't just the perfectly made poisonous cake in the history of ever, Kuchiki-taichou had to go and be the freaking icing made out of toxic waste (all in the metaphorical sense because Kuchiki-taichou was kind of awesome, and Renji was just being bitter at that moment).

"Your work has dropped in terms of content, Renji," he had said in that maddeningly slow voice, "It's become sloppy, and frankly speaking, you have the potential to do much better. I have seen it. Which is why I'm wondering why you have been acting like a freshly graduated shinigami rather than the fukutaichou you're supposed to be."

Really, only Kuchiki Byakuya could weave in an insult and a compliment with such delicacy.

"Not only that," he had continued, "but the other officers have been filing complaints. Personal life is supposed to be kept outside the office, Renji, and you're not doing that. I don't know what's wrong with you right now, but fix it. If you don't pick up your work then I'm afraid I'll have to take action."

Right.

Action.

Renji wished he had had something witty to say to that. Unfortunately, he didn't, and even if he did, he respected his captain way too much to say it. So he settled for a rather stiff bow, and a promise to do better.

"Yes, Taichou."

Which he had been trying to do.

Sort of.

Now not only were all of his personal relations in danger of being thrown into the river full of crocodiles, the realization that he had a habit of drinking whenever his brain felt too full (which was happening more often than he'd like lately), but his job was in danger as well.

And Noriko could be dead.

Never before in his life had he wanted someone to talk to so badly.

He wanted Rukia to slap some sense into him, to make him laugh, to make him happy. Rukia knew exactly what to do with him, exactly what would get his mind off of things, exactly what would make him the opposite of bored or sad.

He also wanted Kuchiki-taichou. His captain had this calm and in-control aura around him all the time. It made even the most energetic of people calm down and just be at peace with themselves. Renji wanted to go into Kuchiki-taichou's office and just sit there and listen to the scratches of quill on paper.

He wanted his 11th Division buddies. He wanted Zaraki-taichou to order him around so he didn't have to think, and Yachiru to pester him into playing tag. He wanted Ikkaku to challenge him to a fight. He wanted Yumichika to brag about how awesome he was and give Renji a good laugh.

And he wanted Noriko, who could make him smile and laugh and piss him off at the same time. He wanted her to talk to him about everything and anything, maybe play with his hair, or kiss him, or more.

But no one was there.

Rukia was on duty at Karakura.

Kuchiki-taichou was picking up his slack at work.

The 11th Division was welcoming new recruits.

Noriko was out doing her job.

Renji realized just how pathetic and messed up he truly was at that moment - and so, he made an attempt to forget everything. Except it didn't really work, and it made him even more depressed - which was depressing in itself, since Renji wasn't usually the depressed sort of guy.

And then, as he was downing his fifth drink of that evening, came Matsumoto.

God, he loved that woman.

Which was probably why he was pouring out all the problems his life had at the moment to her, and she wasn't even complaining, just listening to all the crap that coming out of mouth and giving him the occasional pat on the shoulder.

"An' if all of that wasn' bad enough," Renji took a big gulp of his drink, "Kuchiki-taichou managed to-"

"You already said that, Renji," said Matsumoto sympathetically.

"Huh? Oh." He frowned. "Well then, can you believe that all of this shit started to pile up on me the exact moment I realized that-"

"You said that too." Matsumoto was smiling now. "I think you've exhausted your brain's capabilities of thinking up of problems - not that you haven't managed to hit every single dilemma to ever exist, anyway."

Renji groaned and buried his head in his arms. "I dunno what to do."

"Then you're lucky I'm here to put my awesome problem-solving skills to use," Matsumoto beamed, giving him a hard slap on the back. And despite himself, Renji smiled. "And the first step is figuring out what's the catalyst of all of this."

Renji snorted. "That's easy."

"Noriko?"

"Noriko," he nodded. "I dunno how to explain it. It's not like it's her fault everything's happenin', but it's because of her, you know?"

"Uh huh," said Matsumoto with a nod. "Well, from what you're told me about what's been going on lately, I think it's safe to tell you that - to me, at least - she sounds like a complete and-"

"Don' finish that," Renji interrupted wearily. "Noriko's not like that. You'd totally love her, Matsumoto. You two'd get along so well that the rest of us would be like, 'what?'."

"Really now?" she smiled, and Renji wondered how someone with a personality like Matsumoto's and her smoking hot body could still be single. The world really had no justice. "Well, maybe. If I ever forgive her for being such a jerk and making you feel like ten pounds of crap."

"No-o," he said, and there was a definite hint of a whine in his voice. "God, I'm just bein' an asshole. Yeah, she pissed me off, but I was actin' like a bastard with her too. I did tell you that part, righ'?"

"Yup," said Matsumoto brightly, and Renji found himself futilely trying to resist the influence of her cheer, "but I still don't like her. Because you come first, way before some random girl I pointed out to you at a bar."

"What if I say I totally forgive her?" he asked, somewhat curious and beyond flattered that he had a friend as loyal as Matsumoto. "Would you be okay with that?"

"Totally. But I'd still be kind of biased, I think."

"Heh. I dunno about that. After like ten minutes with her you'll be eatin' out of the palm of her hand. Or, well, I dunno. You're Matsumoto. Maybe you wouldn'. I didn' either. I think. Or did I?" Renji blinked and tried to make his train of thoughts resemble something close to coherency.

It wasn't really working.

"No, Renji, you didn't," Matsumoto laughed. "I think that's why she liked you, really. You're too stubborn and uptight and had to make her chase after you. Girls like her are used to guys coming after them, I think."

"Kinda like you?" Renji asked, but there was a teasing quality to his tone, and Matsumoto smirked back at him, rather than taking it personally.

"Totally," she said. "Except there's no way she'd ever reach the pinnacle of greatness like I have."

Unexpectedly, that simple statement made him deflate again. Because if he had said the same thing to Noriko, she'd say, "Well, can you blame them? I mean, just look at me. Aren't I the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?"

But there'd be some light humour in her eyes, so he'd would know that she wasn't taking herself half as seriously as someone like, say, Yumichika would have been (but then again, Yumichika was somewhat of an enigma that couldn't be put into the same category as the rest of the human population).

Why was he such a moron who messed everything good in his life up?

"Snap out of it Renji." Matsumoto poked his shoulder. "This is not completely your fault. A relationship is a two way street. And from what I understand, this is really obviously divided between the two of you."

Huh. Renji hadn't realized he had said that part out loud. He must've been more wasted than he thought.

"I thought I came first," he said after a while. "Aren't you s'posed t'be on my side?"

"Oh, I am on your side," she assured him. "But I'm not going to lie to you and say that you didn't do anything wrong either. Sure, she may have been the one to start it, but you could've, I don't know... been the better person? No one can force you to act like a bastard, you know."

"You'd be surprised."

"I'm sure." The sarcasm was kind of hard to miss.

"You don' get it, Matsumoto," Renji sighed. "It's more complicated."

"Then explain it to me, why don't you?" asked Matsumoto, focusing her eyes on him. "I'm not exactly going anywhere."

"Noriko was separate from everythin' else," he said. "She had her own life that was differen' from mine. She wasn' involved with all the drama an' shit that's always goin' on 'round here. It's like she was another room or somethin'. Like, you guys are in one room to help me get away from her, but she's the only person in that room to get me away from everythin' else, you know?"

He paused for a second. "Does that make any sense?"

"Perfectly." And Matsumoto looked so sombre that he paid as much attention that he possible could at his state. "You care for her a lot. She's an important part of your life. She has a room in your head."

The last sentence was said in such a way that Renji thought it was full of implications. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what Matsumoto was talking about. He wished she would just tell him.

"You should get home, Renji," Matsumoto said at long last after neither of them had been talking for more than just a little a while. "Try and have a good night's sleep and forget about everything for a bit. Your head'll be clearer in the morning."

"I can't sleep," he moaned. "Every time I try to, my head gets bombed with all sorts of shit that I don' want t'think about."

"Then try taking a sleeping pill or something," advised Matsumoto. "They can really put you to sleep. Trust me. I know you've got some lying around. Didn't they prescribe some to everyone third seat and up?"

"Oh, yeah." Renji totally forgot about those. It was so long ago. "But would they still work? It's been like... years."

"It will, don't worry," she assured him. "Because just the other day I drank way too much coffee and was bothering Taichou at like three in the morning and he ordered me to take one. I was out for the next six hours."

"'Kay," said Renji, wondering why he didn't do the same. And then he remembered that he hadn't remembered that they existed. And since he was drunk as hell anyway, he added a, "Thanks, Matsumoto."

"Whatever for?" she smiled. "I'm just here drinking with my buddy Renji."

This was what he liked so much about Matsumoto - she knew that some things were meant to be kept quiet, and pretended that nothing happened. A quality like that wasn't in every single person he knew.

Matsumoto may have been the only one.

So he smirked, and said, "Of course. I'll try t'get myself home without fallin' into a ditch an' dyin'."

And when Renji finally stumbled home – after getting lost only twice – he stared at the mirror in his bathroom, instead of opening the said mirror and pulling out the little bottle of tablets.

He didn't know if it was the talk with Matsumoto or what, but when he looked in front of him, he realized the person reflected in the mirror wasn't Abarai Renji.

Abarai Renji was proud and fierce and strong. He always had on a cocky smirk and never let any problem in his path stay there for longer than needed. It didn't matter if he had to beat that problem up or work his ass off to solve, it got removed, and got removed fast.

And, well, Renji thought that he still looked the same. Sort of. He had his long red hair, the tattoos on his face, and the bandanna around his forehead. But there was no semblance of a smirk on his face, and his posture seemed almost defeated.

Yet strangely, seeing that person in the mirror did nothing but piss him off.

This was insane, he thought narrowing his eyes. This was insane because yes, his life was pretty much screwed up, but so what? His life had been worse than this when he was living back in Rukongai. This couldn't possibly be as bad as that.

Or when Rukia was going to be executed for no crime, but some other man's mistakes. His best friend was going to die and he could do nothing about it, yet that hadn't kept him down. He found a way to do something about it. He didn't sit around and drink like he had nothing left to live for (not that he was doing that now as though he had a problem, but he was still doing it).

Or what about the time when his muscles and limbs and organs had been crushed and snapped from the inside, and he could do nothing but helplessly let it happen? He survived that kind of pain, he survived through so much, and Abarai Renji was not the type to let his world fall apart just because he thought it was alright to act pathetic.

Yes, he had screwed up. Yes, he had problems.

But didn't everyone else in the world? Did they all act like their life was over?

Hell no.

And even if they did, Renji sure as hell wasn't going to.

No way.

Renji never really remembered his parents. But he was sure that if they were out there somewhere, they would've been somewhat proud that he turned out to be a person who learned from his mistakes.

Someone who fixed them.

And it didn't matter if Renji had a hundred bad traits - because he knew that at least he was honest and not a hypocrite.

He would do it. He would fix things.

And Renji had so much faith in that statement that he didn't need the sleeping pill to sleep well that night. He didn't know whether he was trying to prove a point to himself or not, but he had opened his mirror and stared at it for a long time before glaring and slamming it shut.

It was strange feeling, having his head just completely calm and his heart rate even. Renji couldn't remember the last time he had felt so in peace with himself. His eyes already felt like lead from before, so all he had to do was lie down and just... sleep. He thought he may have even had some entertaining dreams involving a Ferris wheel and tempura and sunglasses and the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen in his life.

Renji woke up the next day completely rested and satisfied.

But true to his word, the first thing that Renji did after the obvious stuff that one did after waking up was go straight to Kuchiki-taichou's office and bow his forehead to the ground.

"I'm sorry for not meeting your standards, Taichou," Renji said, eyes glued to the hardwood floor of his captain's office. "But I swear I'll work fifty million times harder and make up for acting like such a disappointing officer."

Kuchiki-taichou looked at him coolly.

"In fact, I'll train the new recruits for the next few weeks," Renji said, and vaguely felt like he was sucking up. "And get my paper work in on time. I'll also do the bi weekly rounds around the division for the next two months."

And when Renji finally looked up to see if he was going to get shot with lightning for acting like a moron or not, he was somewhat surprised to see a small – almost nonexistent - smile of approval on Kuchiki-taichou's face.

Awesome.

Hopefully things with Noriko would go just as smoothly.

He snorted.

Who was he kidding?

Sure, Noriko was easygoing, usually, and from what he understood, she'd forgive him right away. Probably. Maybe. She didn't like holding grudges and tried to be friendly with everyone, and they were both too deeply ingrained into the other's life to completely let go of everything because of one - although completely disastrous - fight.

But that wasn't the problem.

Renji didn't know if he could forgive her.

But how could he not forgive her?

And even though he was supposed to be over looking the training of the new recruits, his mind was starting to drift away - but then he realized that he had just sworn to Kuchiki-taichou that he would work harder, and Abarai Renji did not go back on his word.

So he sighed, and proceeded to yell.

"Nakamura, what the hell is with that grip?" Said shinigami squeaked, her face turning red from embarrassment. "Jeez. What are they teaching in the academy now days? Your thumb always has to be outside your fist! Do you want t' crack it straight down the middle or something?"

And it was such a nice day too. Bright skies, a crisp autumn chill, and the clearing of dark grass had a thin lining of frost that crunched under his feet.

He could even forgive the fact that winter - though no snow - was coming soon, and he severely disliked the winter.

But he disliked the level of incompetence in the new members of his division even less.

"Twenty downward slices, alternating sides between each strike. Now, you morons. A reverse right hand block after slice seven. Heavy strike towards your right at slice twelve. Low vertical block after slice seventeen followed by right crescent kick- gah."

There was no possible way he was this bad when he graduated.

"No, no, no," he said, striding forward to Minami who had the absolute worst stance he had ever seen. Ever. "Knuckles point to your destination, damn it. And you, Kiratsuchi, you have to keep your wrist firm but elbows an' arms loose. Otherwise your sword'll go spinning out of your hand with a weak ass hit-"

But Renji wasn't going to start swearing, even though every inch of him yearned for it. No, instead he spent an entire fifteen minutes correcting the stances of every single person who needed their stances fixed, and then had them run through drills again.

He even took the time to point out mistakes - again- until all of them were moderately well paced and looking happy with themselves. In fact, so good was Renji's mood that they all seemed to have gotten it, he convinced himself that these sloppy mistakes wouldn't show up again tomorrow.

Because really. He had seen them spar with each other before. They were quite excellent. Except they seem to crack under pressure whenever he was watching. It made him want to see if they'd implode out of anxiety if it were Kuchiki-taichou watching them instead.

Renji chuckled at the thought.

"Kay, guys," he yelled, calling the drills to a stop. "Awesome job. Now, if you can keep yourselves like this instead of getting high and forgettin' everything you learned today, we'll move onto the more complicated blocks and slices."

He almost laughed at the look on their faces. He was exaggerating, of course. Because in sword you only needed the twenty basic thrusts and blocks, and everything else was just a variation or combination of those with different stances.

"You guys can have practice fights now," he said, smirking with the flair that he seemed to have lost the last few days, "and if anyone thinks the want to try to face me, then come an' get me. Be prepared for an ass-kicking."

He thought he heard someone murmur, "Well, Fukutaichou's completely back to his normal self."

"Oh wait," Renji suddenly added, "zanpakutous only. No kidou allowed."

Groans erupted all around him.

"Abarai-fukutaichou, you're being unfair," Nakamura said, struggling to break out of her shy shell to voice this great blow against justice, "Just because you aren't - I mean, your skills in kidou aren't exactly - just because your specialties lie in swords-"

Her awkward phrases were making her nervous and she flushed, and Renji laughed.

Poor kid. If he yelled at her right then, it would be like kicking a dying puppy. The puppy being the simile about her lack of self-confidence. Really, Nakamura was a nice person from what he saw, and had no reason to think she was the most useless thing to grace Soul Society.

So he decided to do his good deed of the day.

"Heh, you're right," he smirked. "Fine. Kidou allowed cause Nakamura was the only one with enough guts to voice out her thoughts. While still being respectful."

Nakamura's eyes widened as she ducked her head down and blushed.

Renji hoped he did the right thing. Because this would either end up magnificently - with people talking more to Nakamura - or in utter madness - with everyone being envious that Renji singled her out.

Thankfully, it turned out to be the former, as one of the other girls quickly came up to her and asked to be her sparring partner, as she was "quite competent at kidou as well."

Renji felt quite happy with how the situation turned out, and relocated to his position on top of the leafless tree at the corner of the courtyard.

"My, you really are a sweet person, aren't you?" a voice grinned in his ear. "If I wasn't completely sure already that you're one of the best things to happen to me since the creation of shampoo, I would've totally converted after watching this take place."

In all of an instant, Renji's mouth dried and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't even move his head to make sure out of the sheer magnitude of shock that he felt at this situation.

But Renji didn't have to, as he felt fingers grasp his chin almost softly, and turn him around so his vision was met with the sight of eyes that were the brightest, clearest shade of blue he ever saw.

"Hey there, Renji." Noriko leaned forward and sparkled him a smile. "Talk with me?"