for day 7: (Uryuu) nakama day
I will this moment lasts forever. / A series of surprises. Uryuu POV. (Warnings: awkwardness, angst, and background politicking.) Title + synopsis quote from VNV Nation "Standing (Moderato Declamando)". [The sequel is actually the previous chapter. Click back to read it.]
There is a box on the table.
Now, this is nothing too far out of the ordinary – his apartment, (while kept scrupulously clean, and possessed of functioning plumbing, and functional locks) is hardly spacious – but Uryuu is quite certain that box hadn't been on his living room table the last time he saw it.
For one thing, none of the boxes he uses for storage are in anything like that shade of obnoxiously bright purple. ...with rabbits on it.
On second thought, he knows exactly who left it there.
Uryuu sighs and pulls off the ribbon holding it shut. There is a great deal of clear tape underneath that, plastered over a number of surprisingly neat folds.
He peels off the tape, carefully, doing his best to not damage the paper. While it isn't likely that he'll ever find a use for purple bunny-print wrapping paper, the various crafts clubs are always looking for scrap material. Or Inoue-san might be able to find some place for it. And if worst comes to worst, he could always use the blank side as scratch paper.
There is a shoebox under the wrapping paper. ...best to get this over with.
There are two smaller boxes inside the shoebox, along with a card that reads:
Ishida-san,
Happy Birthday! We're friends and you're stuck with me! So, as called for by modern human custom, I got you a present. (The stupid-looking one is from Renji. Just ignore it.)
- Kuchiki Rukia
The signature is accompanied by a drawing of something he thinks might be a dancing rabbit in kimono. Possibly. It might also be a mouse with thyroid problems.
Well, now he's curious. He opens the first box (which itself is dark wood, polished and clean).
...it's a sewing kit. Needles, scissors, pincushions, thread – at least twenty different colors of thread, in various weights and materials. Everything is put away in its own little compartment. It's beautiful.
He is not holding back tears.
Uryuu may lose several minutes just... basking. A useful and well-thought-out gift is always to be appreciated. He'll have to make Kuchiki-san something to show his gratitude – a new hat, perhaps? She's been hinting at something white and fluffy, with a bobble on top.
Yes, he knows he's just been played. The fur-lined hat will take a few days to complete (for one thing, he has no patterns for hats right now) but the needles are sharp, and the scissors are sturdy, and the box itself is high-quality enough to keep long after the thread runs out.
The second box resembles an oversized glasses case, so he's not sure why he's surprised that it contains a pair of sunglasses. Abarai-san's gift, of course.
He holds them up to examine them. Actually...
Aside from how, ah, gaudy they are – blue and white stripes are generally quite tasteful, but not on glasses frames – they're not terrible.
The frames are sturdy, the hinges don't bend out too far, and they look like they're actually sized appropriately. Abarai-san must have gotten the measurements from somewhere. ("Somewhere" meaning Urahara-san. That man has absolutely no notion of privacy.) He's not sure how much use he'll get out of them, though – he can already see that the lenses are simple plastic, with none of the weight or curvature that differentiates prescription lenses.
There's a note in the bottom, wedged in with a cleaning-cloth: Hey, I got you these. And I asked the guy who owns the shop for a pair that works with glasses, so they better fit, or he's gonna hear from me.
...it's worth a shot, he supposes.
They actually do fit, somehow. The bulky frames bite into the cartilage of his ears, but it's a minor discomfort overall. These are actually a practical present. He should write Abarai-san a thank-you letter, at least.
Uryuu shakes his head, takes them off, and puts them away in a storage drawer. The sewing kit goes in the hall closet with the rest of his craft supplies, with the rest of his old uniforms. (He's... still not entirely sure what he's planning to do with them.)
He finishes removing the rest of the wrapping paper, but leaves the shoebox where it is. He can always keep fabric scraps in it, or something.
The rest of his morning goes as per usual, but there's a surprise on his desk at school: another box, wrapped in tastefully blue paper. The hand-illustrated card accompanying it leaves no doubt as to who this gift is from.
Uryuu swallows past the nervous lump in his throat and reads it.
Dear Ishida-kun,
Today is a joyous day, because today is the anniversary of the day one of my very best friends in the world was born! And so, to mark this day, I've baked you a cake (which I'll give you at lunch, since you can't eat it in class) and made you an extra-special gift!
Yours Truly,
Inoue Orihime
...it takes a few attempts to get his thoughts back on track after reading that.
He's doubly careful with the wrappings on this box, of course. It's from Inoue-san. She could give him nothing but packing peanuts, or a cheap convenience-store toy, and it would still be treasure.
He pulls aside the last bit of wrapping paper, and.
And, it's.
It's a cape. It's a cape, white lined with sea-blue; the edges are accented in a brighter blue. It's beautiful.
It's also utterly superfluous, but it's still from Inoue-san, so-.
Uryuu starts mentally drafting plans for a blouse-and-skirt combinations. High necklines, and flowing skirts that must fall no shorter than six centimeters below the knee. (Would she like warm socks, too?) Fall colors: yellows, brick-oranges, warm grays. Green like leaves that have not yet turned, or like the moss that grows on the north side of trees. Something warm and beautiful, in payment for her gift.
He's nearly done burying the evidence in his school bag (very, very carefully) when Sado-san comes in.
Sado-san walks right up to Uryuu's desk, nods meaningfully, and deposits a small box with white-and-blue wrapping paper on the desk. He then returns to his seat.
Uryuu's fingers itch to find out what's inside (Sado-san's gift will at least be well-considered) but the start of class is rapidly approaching, and his sense of social responsibility is pointing out that skipping the first five minutes of class to open a birthday present is not only rude, but childish.
He's restless all through morning classes. None of this shows in his movements, of course (if nothing else, he can act well enough to fool a gaggle of high schoolers) but he feels a little bit as though he's going to scream.
...not that this is uncommon.
Lunch can't come soon enough; but finally, it does. Uryuu takes off for the nearest secluded corner (There are a few spots outside that are rarely used, save by the odd delinquent looking for a place to smoke, or... perform more unsavory activities. He is not hiding from the lunchtime crowd; it's a strategic retreat.) and opens Sado-san's gift.
It's only held shut by a bit of twine, which isn't entirely surprising – Sado-san's lack of financial resources shows in the threadbare cuffs of his pants, and the way his uniform is perpetually either too large or too small. It's likely he can't afford to replace the outgrown sets as often as propriety dictates he should.
It's a watch.
Specifically, a Seiko men's watch with a wide white faux-leather band and chrome accents. It has easily legible numerals, a second hand, and an accompanying instruction manual which Uryuu plans to memorize at the earliest opportunity.
Uryuu is not going to think about how much it must have cost Sado-san. Quartz watches aren't that expensive.
For now, he packs it away carefully, next to the cape.
He's... not sure about going up to the roof, now. Kurosaki and the others will doubtless be waiting to ambush him, and he's already received more gifts than he'd ever have expected to be given to him. He'd rather just wait it out until the end of the school day; and return to his apartment, and work on his thank-you gifts in peace.
It's at that moment that Kurosaki appears out of bloody nowhere and starts yelling. "Ishida, hurry up! There aren't any Hollows around – yeah, yeah, I did check – so you've got no excuse for skipping lunch."
"I wasn't planning on skipping lunch, Kurosaki. I simply prefer to eat alone."
Kurosaki's 'you idiot' look is nowhere near as potent as Ryuuken's, or even Kuchiki-san's. ...that's not to say it's entirely uneffective, however.
And, of course, he manages to make ten kinds of racket going up the stairs. He stomps on every step.
Uryuu follows silently; his shoes make only the slightest scraping sound against the concrete, and his bag weighs twice as much as it had in the morning.
Just before exiting the stairwell, Uryuu asks, "I don't suppose you'd know why Kuchiki-san and Abarai's gifts were left in my apartment this morning, with no trace of either of them having been in there?"
If they'd used a Senkaimon to get inside, it would have left marks. There should have been some lingering traces of their reiatsu, at least.
Kurosaki half-shrugs. "They're crazy-busy right now, so maybe they bribed Sandal-Hat?"
Uryuu suppresses a shudder.
Kurosaki grimaces in commiseration. "Yeah. Creepy."
There's really nothing more that needs to be said, in response to that.
Uryuu almost misses the box that Kurosaki literally tosses to him. He glares upwards, already prying his nails under the tape.
"...why are there three different colors of I.O.U. notes?"
Kurosaki looks away. "Yeah... those are from my family."
Uryuu has no idea what that means.
"Karin and Yuzu heard you're our cousin, so they've got gifts for you, but they're at the clinic. Stop by after school, if you get a chance."
"Of course."
Kurosaki grins. "Great! You're coming to dinner."
Before Uryuu has time to construct a reply around the sudden mess of what just happened?! in his head, Kurosaki shoves the door open.
Uryuu stumbles out into daylight after him. He blinks his confusion away, sorting it away for later never, and stows the half-unwrapped present in his bag.
Kurosaki's circle of friends is, indeed, sprawled over at least half of the available rooftop space. Inoue-san is talking to Arisawa-san. Sado-san is patiently waiting for something. Even Kojima-san and Asano-san are present, for some reason.
"I barely know half of these people," Uryuu points out.
"Keigo wanted free cake," Kurosaki replies.
Uryuu raises an eyebrow, just slightly. "He doesn't know that Inoue-san baked a cake, does he?"
Kurosaki rolls his eyes.
It is beneath Uryuu's dignity to snicker, but the temptation is certainly there.
There is a call like a clarion bell, and he turns to Inoue-san's voice like leaves follow the sun. "Yes?"
She cheerfully waves him over. "I baked you a cake, come see!"
(Asano-san looks slightly green, and has gone very quiet. Good.)
He sits at Inoue-san's side, across from Arisawa-san. "Thank you."
"Did you like your surprise?" she asks.
He blinks. "...the gifts?"
"Yes! I left mine on your desk earlier, and – oh, sugar." She isn't frowning, but her smile has passed behind a cloud. "I should have stayed and given it to you in person."
"It's all right," he says. "I know you had to meet with Matsuda-san and the class rep. I don't mind."
That's a lie, but there's no need to say so.
Arisawa-san kicks him in the shin.
He yelps.
She side-eyes him, and hands him an envelope. There's a store-bought card with standard birthday well-wishes, a scrawled signature, and a 2500-yen gift certificate to a chain art-supply store.
"Why...?"
She shrugs, and grins. "I have, like, zero clue what you like besides sewing. They'll have something you can use, right?"
"Ah!" Inoue exclaims.
They look at her.
She smiles. "I'm glad my friends are getting along."
He smiles back, almost. Yes, it is good.
"All right, all right," Kurosaki cuts in. "Let's get the cake out and get this over with, we don't have forever."
Kurosaki, as usual, has the absolute worst possible timing.
Uryuu sits as he is bid, to share a meal with his friends. They share stories, too.
He will not wish for time to stop.
The cake is actually vanilla sponge cake, fairly light, with white frosting. There's yet another message on top, in blue icing: Happy Birthday, Uryuu!
He wants to laugh.
This is set post-684, and 685+ can go die in a fire.
...written in just over 24 hours, so not very edited. Please critique?