Following

By

PND

Part 7: Battle

The trouble with friends is, once you know them for so long, you tend to forget what they're capable of.

Seeing Ikkaku battle was like watching a bear tear apart its meal, Yumichika decided as he watched his companion clash swords with another man. His form was far from good, his slashes were choppy and his blocks were downright pathetic, but something about the way he carried himself in the fight made people stop to watch. Ikkaku seemed to be filled with some kind of unnatural skill for swordsmanship that Yumichika almost found himself envying.

Ikkaku Madarame.

After three weeks of traveling with his killer, Yumichika finally learned the man's name. Ikkaku hadn't found it necessary to tell him, despite the fact that Yumichika had been his constant companion during that time. The only reason he now learned it was because the bald headed man felt obligated to tell it to his combatant.

Ikkaku started to smile.

Too bad he was losing horribly.

Yumichika's eyes narrowed slightly and he uncrossed his arms as he watched from the back of the crowd. Ikkaku didn't have a chance against the man across from him. The young man had been studying the encounter for some time, picking up on openings and simple mistakes in stance that Ikkaku had seemed to just downright ignore.

Ikkaku lunged at the lean body of his enemy, already breathing hard, covered in a sheen of sweat. He'd only managed to lay one devastating blow to his opponent, but on the man's left arm, which wasn't being used anyway. Ikkaku had received multiple abrasions on side of his right arm. It only took Yumichika a moment to figure out why.

"That idiot," Yumichika whispered, moving forward to slip past the spectators until he reached the sidelines. How dare Ikkaku try to use his arm as an attempt to block the attacks! Even a novice to fighting would know that doing so was a good way to ruin the arm for life if it wasn't cut off before the end of the battle.

His adversary managed to bury his sword a few inches into Ikkaku's side. The red tint of blood began to tinge his clothing a deeper black. Ikkaku staggered forward slightly and looked up at his enemy.

The smile widened.

It was only a matter of seconds before he was unarmed; a flick of his opponent's sword removed Ikkaku's weapon and sent it scattering across the dirt road towards the crowd as dust billowed up in a tiny puff beside it.

Ikkaku stood, weaponless and bleeding across from the man. He panted, his chest heaving with the effort and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

And yet, the smile was still there.

Yumichika couldn't imagine what was going through Ikkaku's head. Why was he treating this like the outcome didn't matter? From the look in the other man's eyes, it seemed he had no qualms about killing the bald man. Seeing this, Yumichika made his decision and picked up the abandoned sword as the man went in for the killing blow.

The two swords let out an earsplitting ring as they hit, the large man driving Yumichika back a few feet before the young man could get any leverage against him. He was very strong, almost bringing Yumichika down to the ground with his initial impact. Yumichika brought his sword away from his head and focused on keeping the sharp blade away from his body. His ankles protested from the abuse of being required to support his body and the force the man applied to it.

As the man pulled away to deliver another blow, Yumichika leapt backwards, putting some distance between the opponent and himself.

"Ikkaku, what do you think you were doing?"

"Didn't you hear him? He called you my oiran."

"I know what he called me." Yumichika's cheeks tinged pink at the memory. "I don't think it was worth a fight, you idiot. None of this would have happened if you had just ignored it like I did," Yumichika shook his hair out of his eyes. "I just want to know what's wrong with you. That wasn't fighting!"

"I was fighting really hard, Yumi."

"You liar," Yumichika shook his head. "Blocking his attacks with your arm and ignoring all of his openings is not fighting. Bastard, you're treating this like a game and now I have to clean up after you."

"Tell him your name." Ikkaku's smile hadn't left his face and he slowly lifted his arm to rub his chest, as if it were uncomfortably tight.

"What?" Yumichika almost took his eyes off of his opponent to look at Ikkaku.

"Tell the bastard your name before you kill him. It's only fair." Ikkaku's breathing became shallow as he closed his eyes. Yumichika glanced at Ikkaku and bowed his head slightly in agreement.

Yumichika turned away from his companion and prepared himself as the bloke rushed him, "Of course, Ikkaku."


"I can't believe you didn't even get your clothes dirty," Ikkaku mumbled, staring up at Yumichika from his bed.

"Well, I got blood on one of my sandals," Yumichika admitted. "But the man was nice enough to buy me a new pair."

"Nice enough? I thought you killed him." Ikkaku looked confused.

"Naturally I did," Yumichika pushed the small table closer to Ikkaku and set a bowl of rice on it. "He decided to give me a lovely little satchel of money for his life and of course I couldn't just turn him down. Not after he begged me so nicely."

"So, you killed him after all," Ikkaku said, picking up his chopsticks. "Stab him in the back or something?"

"Not telling," Yumichika smiled as he sat down on a cushion and shook his head.

"Come on, Yumi," Ikkaku shoveled a bite into his mouth.

"If you hadn't fainted, you would have seen it," Yumichika tutted.

"I didn't faint," Ikkaku grunted. "I just closed my eyes."

"I'm sorry, my mistake." Yumichika smiled and placed his hands in his lap.

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

"I'm not."

"Come on," Ikkaku frowned.

"I'm afraid your clothes are ruined," Yumichika said, changing the subject. "I threw them out."

"What?" Ikkaku stopped eating. "Why'd you do that?"

"They were all bloody and torn," Yumichika explained. "It's okay though. The man was quite a generous patron. I have enough money to get you something new...unless you want to borrow my clothes," Yumichika didn't seem pleased by the thought.

"Hell no."

"Well, we'll find you something else tomorrow when you can walk again."

"I feel fine," Ikkaku protested.

"Really, Ikkaku," Yumichika shook his head. "You were stabbed. You can't just go around acting like you're fine when you're not. You might faint—oops—I mean, close your eyes again."

"Shut up," Ikkaku set the finished bowl down. "Next time I don't want your help."

"Fine," Yumichika said, standing and removing the dish. "I won't help you then."

"Wait," Ikkaku stopped him. "I'm still hungry."

Yumichika paused, bowl in hand. "Are you?" he asked quietly, scooping some more rice into the dish.

"Yeah. Why?" Ikkaku didn't know why Yumichika was acting so distracted by that fact.

"It's nothing, Ikkaku." Yumichika sat the refilled bowl down in front of him. "Just tell me when you're full."

"Yeah, sure, but," Ikkaku stopped before he could put his chopsticks in the rice, "Aren't you hungry?"

"No," Yumichika shook his head. "I promise to let you know if I get hungry."

"Okay," Ikkaku nodded. It sounded reasonable enough.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika ventured quietly, studying the table in front of them. "I think we should think about getting some good swords. I noticed the one you've been carrying around is rather decrepit. It doesn't even have a sheath."

"Still works, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but not well," Yumichika gave a slight shrug as he watched Ikkaku. "We're getting those tomorrow, too."

"Your money," Ikkaku replied, finishing his second bowl. Wordlessly Yumichika got another for him. Ikkaku sighed, wishing it wasn't him with Yumichika. He wasn't good with all the mushy stuff. "What's wrong? You aren't still thinking about what that man said about you being an oiran, because, just so you know, I promise I've never thought of you in that way and I think that you should just ignore insults like that."

"No, I wasn't thinking of that," Yumichika said, shaking his head. "You haven't noticed it yet, have you, Ikkaku?"

"What?" Ikkaku gazed at him, wondering of he'd changed his appearance in some way.

"What does it feel like to be hungry?" Yumichika tilted his head to the side curiously. "I can feel the power radiating off of you. Can't you tell?"

"No," Ikkaku looked down at himself. "What power?"

"It's what that woman was talking about. You probably don't remember," Yumichika sighed. "Spiritual pressure, Ikkaku."

"That junk she was talking about being low?"

"Yes, that 'junk' is what's making you hungry," Yumichika replied. "I'm happy for you, I think."

"Are you?" Ikkaku frowned, flexing his wounded arm experimentally.

"Yes," Yumichika nodded.

"All that means is that I'm getting stronger and I'll have to save your scrawny ass from more assholes like that one."

"I think I'm the one who saved you today," Yumichika retorted. "So save those comments for yourself."

"Shut up," Ikkaku mumbled laying back and closing his eyes.


End Part Seven.

Author's Note: Okay, random chapter I guess. I don't think it's that good. Anyway, just wanted to explain a few things...

An Oiran is kind of like a geisha crossed with a prostitute. In the Edo era they were hired by wealthy landowners and government officials to "entertain" them...in case they get bored at work at guess. Kidding of course—probably mostly night rendezvous. Anyways, so the guy calling Yumichika Ikkaku's oiran would probably be pretty degrading to Yumichika and I guess Ikkaku didn't enjoy being called Yumichika's lover.

I totally pretty much skipped how the fight began because I was lazy. I was planning for this to only be seven hundred words or so, but that managed to keep growing to a whopping 1,500. Wow.

Oh well, stay frosty and sorry for any mistakes.

PND