Closer

by purefoysgirl

My take on Yumichika's past and how he came to be stuck to Ikkau's side like glue. They start out young, people, so don't expect juicy stuff until later on, okay? Rated for later chapters.

14. Chapter 14

Okay, sorry for the delay, but I'm making the chapters longer so I don't end up with another fifty-plus epic (again - Eromenos, I'm looking at you). If it's too long, sorry, it just happened that way. I'd also like to say a personal thank you to Yumebaah, Empires, and Love1398 for your supportive reviews! Feedback is food, and I appreciate you all letting me know that you're reading and enjoying the story! It's hard to gauge how well it's being received - the reviews help me immensely and I do appreciate them! Thank you!

---

Yumichika found that he was anxious.

He didn't like to be anxious, since it didn't go well with his coloring, but he was all the same, and noted with aggravation that Ikkaku was decidedly not. Of the two of them, the bald Death God should be the one ready to snap with anticipation; instead, the longer they stood waiting in the Squad Eleven briefing room for their first introduction to their new Captain, the more relaxed and happy he got.

The others in the room had glanced at them a few times, but had left them alone. Yumichika recognized only a handful of rough rowdies from their class. He assumed that the bulk of the others were rejects from other Squads transferred in with the newcomers.

"Ugh, how ugly," he breathed, angling his nose away when he caught an unpleasant whiff of stale sweat. He didn't mind the usual scent of it, fresh during training and only doing its given work, but he exceedingly disliked individuals who didn't take proper care of themselves and made everyone else suffer for it.

"You'll get used to it," Ikkaku said, as if it didn't bother him. Of course, there weren't many opportunities to bathe on the battlefield, and he'd certainly spent enough time there as a boy. Still, Yumichika had never once recalled Ikkaku smelling badly, even when he'd accused him of it as children.

"Highly unlikely," he murmured, wrinkling his nose and edging closer to Ikkaku against the wall.

"Hey," one of them finally said, one dark eye skimming Yumichika's figure, the other blind and still. "I think I know y - "

"Piss off," Ikkaku said, still scanning the room, alert for the entrance of their Captain. Yumichika knew that Ikkaku could feel the man's spirit pressure, but he himself had too much interference from those around him to sense it.

"Hey, I was just talking to her!"

Yumichika stiffened in offense, his eyes widening. "How dare you!"

"Hey, hey!" Ikkaku loudly cut in, skewering the man with a dark glare. "Do you see us standing here by ourselves? EH?! He doesn't want your ugly face so close, got it?"

"You want to keep me away, baldie?"

Yumichika fully expected Ikkaku to lose his temper, which wasn't stable at the best of times, but instead Ikkaku just grinned fiercely and lowly told the man, "I got bigger fish to fry than you, you moron. Leave him alone or you'll deal with me, and I'm as mean as he is pretty, got it?"

Yumichika's heart pounded with nerves to hear him say that. He'd worried himself sick last night chewing over the idea that Ikkaku would present a challenge to Captain Zaraki. Yes, these past six years had made Ikkaku much, much stronger, and had deepened his synergy with his Soul Cutter spirit, but the same might be said of the man who'd nearly killed him once already. He had blind and enormous faith in Ikkaku in everything but this, and he prayed that Ikkaku would use his head for a change and see how impossible it was.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the glowering man move away. He knew he should thank Ikkaku, but such things were simply understood between them. Even if he'd thrown a fit and demanded that Ikkaku not do such things, the loud warrior still would. And even if Ikkaku demanded that Yumichika not come with him somewhere, Yumichika still would. Some things simply went without saying for the pair of them...

"Oh? This is what we get this time?"

He heard the unmistakable sound of that little pink-haired girl's voice and glanced around to find her leaning in the window looking at them all.

"A kid? Hey, go away, this is no place for you!"

One of the new members moved to the window to shoo her, making as if to close it.

Ikkaku grinned, but even he was surprised when she bounced through the window and landed on one graceful, tiny foot, fully garbed as a Death God and bearing a Lieutenant's insignia on her bicep.

"Squad Eleven Lieutenant Kusajishi Yachiru," she announced, dimpling. "Nice to meet you! Ah! Kenny!"

She sped off towards the doors as they were flung wide open, admitting the massive, forceful presence of Captain Zaraki.

'He's bigger than I remember,' Yumichika despairingly thought, hoping that it was simply due to the fact that he was contained in a room that seemed significantly smaller since he arrived.

The huge man strode down the length of the room, Yachiru attaching herself to his shoulder like a little monkey.

"I'm Squad Eleven Captain Zaraki Kenpachi," he said, his low voice rumbling deeply enough to echo in Yumichika's ribcage. "Listen up! I don't care about where you're from, how old you are, or what your record looks like."

Everyone was staring at him like they'd seen some sort of monster, half of them fighting the urge to flee. Ikkaku, though...Yumichika couldn't decipher that look on his face, but he didn't like it all the same.

"You can say whatever you want, I won't censor any opinions here, but I also won't endorse them. I'm not gonna force you to stay, but there's no guarantee that I'll keep you, either," Captain Zaraki warned, turning at the head of the room to glare at them. "I want one thing."

He sat down, his large frame spread out, Yachiru drumming her small feet on the floor with glee.

"What I want from you is strength," he said, his terrible, cold eyes sweeping the room. "I like strong guys; guys who can fight."

"Same here," Ikkaku called, and when the crowd parted to expose him to Zaraki's penetrating gaze, he pushed away from the wall to take a step closer. "I came, just like you told me to."

Yumichika could see when Zaraki recognized him, and he was surprised when the man grinned his sharp grin, actually pleased and impressed. Yumichika covered his anxiety with his usual careless amusement, as if nothing in the world could affect the equilibrium of his emotions, and waited for Ikkaku to issue the challenge.

"Who's the Third Seat?" Ikkaku asked, the fire of anticipation seeping into his loud, raspy voice. "Eh? Where is he? He's next after your Lieutenant, right?"

Yumichika nearly melted into a puddle of relief, however short-lived it may be.

Captain Zaraki laughed, amused, an unfathomable gleam of his own coming into those strange, cold eyes.

"You think you can take him?" he asked, still grinning at Ikkaku.

"Do you?"

The large man stood, tipping his head back to look down at them all from the bottoms of his eyes, an altogether intimidating picture that only reinforced everyone's unspoken dread of him.

"Koji," he said, still baring those unusually sharp teeth.

"Go get Ryo-kun, Bug Eyes!" Yachiru called to the man, Koji. She giggled and jumped onto Captain Zaraki's back, dangling like an odd adornment over his shoulder, her Soul Cutter dragging behind her.

Ikkaku's grin deepened to something fierce and almost frightening, and Yumichika steeled himself for what would, no doubt, be a merciless clash between bloodthirsty warriors.

---

Ryo - or, Honma Ryo, as he introduced himself - was a slight, oddly bookish young fellow with a hesitant smile that somehow made all of Squad Eleven's seasoned rank-and-file cringe. He wasn't threatening or impressive, and seemed more suited to work in a library than as a unit leader in Zaraki's brutal squad. Still, Yumichika himself knew how deceiving looks could be, and he was relieved that Ikkaku wasn't going to take the man lightly. After all, in all of these people present, Ryo was the strongest aside from Captain Zaraki and the little girl who spent so much time immersed in his spirit pressure.

Zaraki himself was sitting on the terrace outside of his office with Yachiru next to him, watching the proceedings in the training grounds with a hungry grin. He'd taken Ikkaku's measure once before, after all, and knew better than anybody if Ikkaku was capable of defeating the slender, quiet Ryo.

Everyone else gathered around the fringes of the training ground and on the barracks terraces to watch, staying well clear of the pair. Yumichika was as close as he could get without being in the way, straining to hear what was said.

"And who are you?" Ryo asked after introducing himself.

"Ah, no one," Ikkaku told him, grinning, Hozukimaru slung negligently over his shoulder. "I'll tell you once I've defeated you. I got a rule about introductions, kid - and I don't intent to kill you."

"Ah, well that is a relief," Ryo mildly said, his smooth face solemn. "Can I ask why not?"

"Because you're experienced and it's a waste, is what," Ikkaku told him, the humor dropping from his tone to leave him brittle and hard. "If I'm going to be in charge of a unit, I don't want inexperienced idiots mucking things up."

"Well, unfortunately, I don't think I'll just allow you to have Third Seat," Ryo lamented, frowning. "And whether you kill me or not will be decided by how hard you have to fight to keep up with me. But if you want to try for a Seat, sir, you can always start with Fifteen and work up from there."

"Nah," Ikkaku said, grinning. "Three suits me just fine."

Yumichika gasped silently for air as Ikkaku's spirit pressure flared and settled into a steady eruption of power. Yumichika could see the red aura of it surrounding him, strong enough that it stirred his uniform and kicked up dust from the training ground's packed surface. Even though he'd been with Ikkaku for so long, the man had a tendency to suppress his spirit power, which made revealing it all the more impressive, and gave Yumichika the feeling that someone was slowly, painfully squeezing his chest with its force.

"Ah! How scary!" Ryo commented, and Yumichika couldn't tell if his surprise was feigned or genuine. His own spirit pressure welled up in an eruption of pale yellow, tasting of bitter sharpness. "But I've been near stronger, I suppose..."

"Yo!" Captain Zaraki called, his deep voice carrying. "Get on with it, you two!"

Ikkaku dashed at the smaller man, and Ryo easily slipped out of his path, saying in that same retiring manner, "Oh, close!"

"Come here, you little bastard!" Ikkaku yelled, lunging again.

Ryo drew his Soul Cutter with the same speed that he'd used to avoid Ikkaku's attack, and brought it up to block the man's hit, his smooth expression never changing.

They clashed, sparks flying, Ryo parrying Ikkaku with a quick-thinking skill that threatened to plant a seed of doubt in his surety that Ikkaku could win. Both of them were experts in their weapon, and both of them had speed and power that was shocking to behold.

Yumichika, however, knew by the look on Ikkaku's face that he was toying with Ryo, learning the length of his reach, adapting himself to the man's fighting style to give himself an advantage. Ryo, too, seemed to sense it, because the next time Ikkaku moved to take advantage of his reach, Ryo managed to surprise him by extending it and nearly getting Ikkaku. Both of them sprang apart, bleeding and panting, warily watching each other.

"You like fighting?" Ikkaku asked.

"I wouldn't be with him if I didn't," Ryo quietly told him, blood snaking down his slender wrist to reach across his sword hand.

"Well, you don't look as if you like it," Ikkaku informed him, flicking his arm to fling the blood away.

"Looks can be deceptive," Ryo said, and lunged again.

It was one of the more grueling fights of Ikkaku's that Yumichika had ever witnessed, topped only by the trouncing Zaraki had given him. But he could see that, little by little, Ikkaku was slowly gaining the upper hand, and Ryo was no fool.

"Chew him through," Ryo murmured, sliding his hand down the length of his blade. "Osoroshīi Haiena!"

The blade shifted and grew, swelling into an enormous ax that had had to outweigh the slight Ryo. The opposite end was a cylindrical weight to balance it, a set of five chains dangling from the end. Yumichika found the form quite horrible, with its chewed, chipped edge and some ugly, grinning creature pressed into relief on its face. This was not a weapon meant to grant a fast, clean death, no. This awful Soul Cutter was designed to deal pain, and when Ryo swung it, it made a chilling, howling sound like something monstrous cackling madly.

Still, Ikkaku did not release Hozukimaru. Using the blade and the sheath in tandem, he used his sheer strength to turn the whining edge of that ghastly ax, but Ryo's use of his Soul Cutter was precise and smooth. He used the length of it to keep his opponent at a distance, extending his reach even further by using the chains at its end, though that changed the thing's balance and left him open.

'Be careful,' Yumichika thought, lifting his thumb to his mouth to chew it, then thinking better of it. Twice, now, Ikkaku had glanced over at him as if to reassure himself that Yumichika was present and accounted for. It wouldn't do for Yumichika to present anything other than complete confidence in the outcome, so he smoothed his hair instead and called out, "Win quickly against that horrible thing, Ikkaku. It isn't beautiful in the least..."

Ikkaku laughed, the sound carrying over the roar of the watching squad members, and when Ryo swung again, Ikkaku jumped on the shaft, forcing the broken edge into the ground and dealing Ryo two swift, dangerous blows.

Ryo drew back, wrenching the ax free, blood pouring down his face. He was no longer serene, no longer calm, but transformed with a rage that wasn't quite sane. The fight took a turn for the dangerous and earnest, both men fighting with ferocious intent. Ryo used that ugly weapon with speed and grace that made its ungainly size and weight seem perfectly balanced somehow, and all the more dangerous for it.

Ikkaku finally released Hozukimaru, exploring the new advantages of its form while their blood mingled on the packed dirt ground. The fight was quickly turning desperate, and there were a few times when Yumichika had to close his eyes for a moment, unwilling to see that cackling ax bite into Ikkaku's precious flesh.

Then he heard Ikkaku call out, and opened his eyes to see Hozukimaru wrapped around Ryo's Soul Cutter, the sharp edge of it buried in the man's chest beneath his right arm.

"Heh!" Ikkaku pulled back, Hozukimaru snapping into its naginata form, blood running down the wooden shaft from the stained blade. "Took all the fight right out of you, eh?"

Ryo dropped to his knees, his eyes wide. Blood bubbled up on his parted lips and poured from the gash in his chest, the wheezing noise of his breath speaking to a punctured lung.

Ikkaku pushed him over with one sandaled foot, and kicked the end of his Soul Cutter away from his reaching fingers.

But instead of killing him, Ikkaku merely looked around at the watching squad and called, "That settles it. I am Madarame Ikkaku! Your new Third Seat!"

Utter, shocked silence followed, and then a few began to complain that Ikkaku should kill Ryo, that killing him was the only thing to do to seal the deal. Ikkaku bared his teeth and glared at them, but before he could defend his decision, Captain Zaraki stood and everyone fell silent.

"Complaining like a bunch of women, how boring," the man said, glaring at them all. "Kill him or don't, it doesn't matter. He can't fight anymore, so where's the fun in it now? Stupid."

He turned and strode off, Yachiru clinging to his shoulder and looking back at them, asking in her high, small voice, "Ryo-kun had fun, didn't he, Kenny?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

The squad broke up, and no one seemed inclined to come to Ryo's aid, even though he lay struggling for breath in the dirt with Ikkaku straddling his body.

Yumichika drifted closer, watching Ikkaku's Hozukimaru retreat into its normal sword form.

"Third Seat," he observed. "Is that high enough for you, Ikkaku?"

"Don't be stupid, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, grinning fiercely through a veil of blood. "You think he'd tolerate challenges to that little brat on his shoulder? Eh? Ha! She's been with him for no one knows how long; she's probably damned-near as much a monster as he is now."

Yumichika looked down at Ryo, whose own Soul Cutter had reformed as a sword.

"You should finish him off," he suggested. "Letting someone drown in their own blood is just ugly."

"Nah, he'll be fine," Ikkaku said, and pitched his voice low to ask him, "Won't he, Yumichika?"

"Hmph." Yumichika breezily sighed, and crouched carefully in the dust to turn Ryo over. "Now, listen - I want you to hold still, no matter what you may feel. Do you understand?"

Ryo coughed a splatter of blood and wetly wheezed, "I don't need your help."

"Stupid," Yumichika breathed, and put his hands on the man's tight chest, focusing his Kido so that the tell-tale green glow wouldn't appear above his hands. "I'm not going to help you, I just want to see what he's done. You can go to the relief squad, or die in your bed, however you wish it." He looked up at Ikkaku, who was reflecting on his victory, and softly added, "Far be it from me to deny a man his chosen death."

Ryo coughed harshly, bringing up a gout of blood, but gradually his breathing grew less labored as Yumichika worked. He wasn't terribly familiar with internal organs, but a patch job was all he was after, and he was able to repair the puncture that had compromised Ryo's lung. Though he was pasty pale and drained of energy, the prior Third Seat would live if he wanted to.

Ikkaku said nothing, but a slight lessening of his tension bespoke his approval, and Yumichika pulled his hands away, wiping them on Ryo's uniform.

"Hey. Hey, I said!" Ikkaku repeated, glowering at a small clutch of squad members grouping up just out of normal earshot. "What're you doing, eh?"

"Ryo, sir!" one of them called, uncertain of his reception. He bowed, and said, "Sir! Honma Ryo is - er - was our unit leader! Please, sir, allow us to take his body!"

"He's not dead, you fools," Yumichika informed them, throwing them off by addressing them instead of Ikkaku. Clearly, it was not the way things were done around Squad Eleven...but they'd learn... "If you value him as a comrade, then take him to the relief squad."

They all bowed this time, but hesitated still.

"What the hell's the matter with you idiots?!" Ikkaku flared, irritated by them. "Take him to squad four!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Yumichika watched, mildly amused as they quickly collected Ryo and settled who exactly would be allowed to carry him on their back.

"I guess they don't do anything without orders," he observed, thinking it quite unfortunate. "After all, they are yours now, if they belong to the Third Seat."

"Heh, morons," Ikkaku said, cracking his neck.

"Ikkaku? Do you want me to treat those wounds?" Yumichika offered.

"Nah, I'll live, brat," Ikkaku said, grinning, looking a perfect horror with so much blood all over him.

"You idiot," Yumichika softly said. "At least let me see..."

He used Ikkaku's momentary stillness to quickly and surreptitiously mend the worse of the wounds he sported. Nothing insofar as knitting the skin together - Ikkaku was no fool and would notice such a thing - but at least closing the severed blood vessels that threatened to need stitching. To be honest, he figured that Ikkaku knew what he'd done, but it suited both of them to pretend ignorance, like so much that passed between them.

"Good thing I won," Ikkaku said, tolerating Yumichika's gentle touch on his sore back.

"I suppose. You could have tried again," Yumichika said, easing his shredded, bloodied coat back up over his shoulder.

"They have strange rules about these things," Ikkaku told him, wincing a little, then quickly dismissing the pain. "You can challenge anyone anywhere as long as you've never issued a challenge before. But if you challenge and lose, then you have to start at the bottom."

"Hm...Fifteen official seats? I think that would take you all of a day," Yumichika said, smiling when Ikkaku puffed up like a peacock, inordinately proud of himself. "So Ryo...he could just come back and challenge you again?"

"Nah, not now that he's lost his Seat," Ikkaku said, heading back towards the barracks area with Yumichika drifting at his side. "He'll have to start at the bottom."

"When did you find this out?" Yumichika asked, cutting his violet eyes at Ikkaku. He'd never caught up height-wise, but he couldn't say he was sorry anymore.

"I asked around before graduation," Ikkaku answered. "Our combat instructor figured I'd be suited to the Eleventh and gave me some pointers. So...what'd you think, Yumichika, eh?"

"What's this? Are you fishing for praise, Madarame?" Yumichika inquired, angling a wry look at him. "That bald head of yours doesn't need to get any bigger..."

"Damn it, Yumichika! I'm not bald!" Ikkaku snarled, stopping in his tracks as Yumichika drifted forward.

"If it suits you to say so," Yumichika airly said, waving one hand dismissively.

"Damn you, you damned brat!" Ikkaku howled, but decided to let it drop. He was still scowling, however, when they reached the area where a good majority of the squad members were anxiously waiting.

The reason for their unease was the presence of Lieutenant Yachiru, who was bouncing around like a ping-pong ball, giggling her head off.

"Yay! Yay! Ryo-kun had fun with Baldy! YAY!"

"That damned kid," Ikkaku hissed, his grey eyes narrowed with malice.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika breathed, softly reminding him that she was their Lieutenant, whatever the case may be.

"Now you can have your own room, Cue Ball!" Yachiru told him, giggling when Ikkaku scowled at her.

"Eh? What'd you mean?"

"The first four Seated Officers are given their own quarters," Koji hesitantly slipped in, reluctant to draw attention to himself after everything that had gone on. "By all rights, Ryo's is yours if you want it, Madarame, sir...Ryo never did move in. He stayed in the common barracks with the rest of us."

"Oh?"

"Yep! Ryo-kun thought it was too much trouble!" Yachiru shouted, grinning widely before pattering off to find the Captain. "Move in, Cue Ball! Kenny will be so happy!"

"That brat," Ikkaku breathed, glowering.

"Er...Madarame?"

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, watching her until she was out of sight. "Go get our things."

"Yes, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, stepping away towards the barracks and their belongings. Others in the squad were avidly watching, wondering if he, too, would suddenly decide to shoot to the head of their pecking order. Yumichika did nothing to either support or destroy that curiosity - he had his own ambitions, but he wasn't sure what he wanted as yet. If Ikkaku had aspired to become the Lieutenant himself, then Yumichika wouldn't have hesitated to fight his way to third seat, that most graceful and beautiful of numbers. Luck would have it, though, that Ikkaku was perfectly content to take that number himself, leaving Yumichika with the task of assessing those in his way for weaknesses. He couldn't afford to allow Ruri'iro Kujaku to emerge fully among these men, or their respect would collapse like a house of cards. No, it would take some thought and preparation first, and those things would take time...

Koji was hovering at the door to the Third Seat's room when he got back, fidgeting anxiously and clearly wishing he was anywhere else but where he was. When Yumichika turned up before him with their few belongings, he hastened out of the way with a bow, saying, "It hasn't been touched since the previous Third Seat was here. You'll probably need to clean it out..."

Yumichika turned to look at him, a frosty smile curving his lovely lips, and asked in a soft tone of polite menace, "Why aren't you cleaning it out now?"

Koji started, and shot off to find others to help him, shouting, "Yes, Ayasegawa! My deepest apologies, Ayasegawa!"

"Ah, Yumichika, terrorizing everyone already?" Ikkaku asked, lolling to a stop along the terrace with a rather stiff, overly masculine man with him. He'd pulled his bloody, shredded uniform loose enough to slide his left arm out, and had it resting negligently in the sling of his clothing, a comfortable pose that Yumichika hadn't seen since they'd joined the Academy. "This is Tetsuzaemon Iba, the Fourth Seat."

"It is truly an honor to meet you," Yumichika told him, bowing in respect. He was quite curious about Iba, but tried to restrain himself for now. It was enough to get a good look at the man, though he found Iba's severe haircut and thin facial hair less than beautiful... "I am Ayasegawa Yumichika."

"Yeah, Madarame told me," Iba said, his words as direct as his actions. He seemed just as curious as Yumichika, and baldly said, "You don't look like you belong here, Ayasegawa."

"I beg your pardon," Yumichika said, spearing him with a hard look. "But if Ikkaku calls a place home, then it is my home as well, whatever I may look like."

"Er..sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Iba said, sounding a little confused but not angry. "It's just that the men here...well...look at them - a bunch of vicious savages crowing for a fight."

"Then I suppose I'll have to lend a measure of grace and refinement to such an unseemly crowd," Yumichika grandly offered, glaring at Ikkaku when he laughed his usual loud, carefree laugh and shook his bald head. "Is there something you'd like to say, Madarame?"

"No, not a word, I know better," Ikkaku said, grinning. "You'll get used to him, Iba. Believe me, if you're in a pinch, you'll want Yumichika with you."

Iba appeared uncertain, but willing to give it the benefit of the doubt all the same, and offhandedly said, "We're going drinking later, Ayasegawa, if you'd like to join us."

"Oh? Well, I suppose..."

"So sorry, Ayasegawa! We'll have it cleaned out before you know it!"

They were interrupted by the return of Koji and a handful of the lower rank and file, most of them a little wide-eyed to be so near both Ikkaku and Iba.

"Hey, hurry it up!" Ikkaku shouted at them, scowling. "If there's any dust, Yumichika will hurt you, understand?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"You're taking him with you?" Iba asked, indicating Yumichika with a nod of his head.

"Yeah," Ikkaku answered, his thoughts elsewhere, most likely on the sake he'd be drinking soon.

"It's not very big," Iba pointed out, angling his head to see inside as the men hurriedly began to haul in cleaning supplies. "But bigger than the room I got."

"We'll manage," Ikkaku said, dismissing it. "Keep an eye on them, Yumichika?"

"Yes, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, and caught Iba's eye long enough to say, "And I don't particularly like being talked about as if I can't hear, Tetsuzaemon. But you'll find out soon enough that I'm not just a pretty accessory..."

Iba didn't know whether to look alarmed or amused, but by the time he headed off with Ikkaku, he'd settled on alarmed and wary, and that suited Yumichika just fine.

The cleaning was completed in less time than Yumichika considered appropriate, prompting him to make them repeat it. When they had finally finished, Koji reluctantly reported to Yumichika, who inspected the room with a critical eye.

"It will do, I suppose," he said, thinking that they'd actually done a thorough job. "Has that bedding been changed?"

"Yes, Ayasegawa," Koji quickly answered, bowing shortly. "But...there is only one set..."

"That's not your concern," Yumichika told him, his words as cold and sharp as ice. "Madarame and I are more than capable of handling our sleeping arrangements, thank you very much. Now, go away. I find your manner very ugly; subservience isn't beautiful, even when it's necessary."

Koji scrambled away, unsure if he'd been insulted or not, but glad all the same to be away from Yumichika.

Since Ikkaku had gone off somewhere with Iba, no doubt to discuss techniques, Yumichika made his way to the quartermaster offices and signed out another set of bedding for himself. As he waited for the shy little Death God to collect the necessary items, he idly glanced around, thinking that the Court of Pure Souls was quite peaceful and beautiful. It would be no hardship living here...but there was the issue of living among over two hundred sweaty, smelly brutes. Truly, the things he was willing to do for Madarame Ikkaku!

"Here you are, Ayasegawa," the little girl said, bowing sweetly. Ah, to be among such serene people, now that would be a true treat. But alas...

"Thank you," he said, taking the bundle from her. "You've been very helpful."

She blushed and bowed, embarrassed by his praise.

'Goodness, was I ever so young as that?' Yumichika thought, wondering where his time had gone. He'd lost track of how many years he'd been at Ikkaku's side, or how many years he'd longed so silently to be more to Ikkaku than just a friend or a pretty, lucky adornment. It left him feeling rather melancholy and restless to the point that even arranging their bedding and belongings couldn't shake it.

He decided to make himself some tea and watch the sunset from the terrace outside of their room, even if it did overlook the barren Squad Eleven training grounds. Several lounging squad members hastened to stand when he entered the small kitchen that served their individual needs, but since he hadn't made a play for a Seat yet, his rank was still uncertain. Yumichika watched them struggle to decide if he was dangerous on his own without Ikkaku, and decided a little prompting wouldn't hurt anything.

"I suggest you find some useful way to occupy yourselves, gentlemen," he told them. "As I have no desire for such ugly company."

Not entirely sure if they should, they erred on the side of caution and cleared out, leaving Yumichika to make his tea in peace. He hoped that by getting his bluff in early, he'd be spared the tedium of repeated challenges; but he was also sure that once the newness wore off, he'd end up having to pick a fight with a Seated Officer in order to avoid such trivial things.

"Hey! Yumichika! HEY! Where are you, I said! Yo!"

Yumichika sighed, picking up the chipped tray with its sad little tea set and carrying it back towards their room. Ikkaku was leaning in, his broad back to Yumichika while he shouted at the top of his lungs, as if Yumichika was hiding somewhere in that empty space. He'd bathed in the meantime, and had changed into a clean, whole uniform that suited him far better than the one from the Open Rose.

"Ikkaku," he called, settling down to sit and putting the tray delicately to one side.

"Ah, there you are," Ikkaku said, moving to sit next to him, his long legs dangling over the edge. "Why are you drinking tea? We're going out tonight. It's the first time we've been able to do anything interesting since coming here, eh?"

Yumichika poured himself a cup and sipped it, staring out at the setting sun without saying a word.

"That room is nice, right?" Ikkaku fished, hoping to find a sign that Yumichika was content. "We've shared smaller."

"True," Yumichika admitted. "Though I think you've baffled everyone, Ikkaku, having me in there as well."

"Ah, well, I don't care," Ikkaku said, shrugging and leaning back on his braced hands, wincing a little as it pulled on his wounds. "If they want to bring it up, they can do it in a challenge. Otherwise, they can keep their opinions to themselves."

"You didn't have to, you know," Yumichika told him, turning to look at Ikkaku's handsome profile. "You could have that room all to yourself."

"Ha! And leave you in the common barracks with those jackals? Not a chance, Yumichika! Not a single chance!" Ikkaku scoffed, shaking his head. "You'd have killed the lot of them the first time they looked sideways at you - and they will look sideways at you, brat. How can I lead a group of dead men, eh? Besides, I like having you close where I can keep an eye on you."

"And keep me from picking off these ugly men one by one?" Yumichika lightly teased, smiling when Ikkaku grinned at him. "Ah, well, if it suits you, Ikkaku..."

"Don't give me that, Yumichika! You know very well that it suits you, too," Ikkaku shot back, an ornery gleam in his silver-sheened eyes. "Poke your nose in the air all you want, but we both know things are better with both of us together. Who would take care of you if you went to some other Squad, Yumichika, huh?"

"Who would take care of you?" Yumichika airily asked, pleased whenever Ikkaku didn't deny it. "That Tetsuzaemon...He's an odd fellow."

"That's rich, coming from you," Ikkaku pointed out, chuckling. "Yeah, he's a good guy, Yumichika. Maybe a little rough, but that's never bothered you. He's got more manners than I do, so at least he won't offend you with every little thing. So...you going to fight him?"

"I haven't decided," Yumichika said, flipping his hair and looking away. "The character for three is so beautiful..."

"What's so beautiful about three marks?" Ikkaku asked, mystified. "Still, Iba...he's a decent sort. But I know you take forever to decide anything, so I guess I won't see you fight him for some time, will I?"

Yumichika gazed at him, taking in the beloved details of his face. Ikkaku had grown into the size and shape of his limbs long before, but now he had an ease about him that only accentuated his easy confidence. Ikkaku was a strong man in his prime, content with his lot in life and full of eager spirits. He was a man with every quality to make friends quickly, but chose them with such care that true friends were few and far between.

And far be it from Yumichika to deny Ikkaku a chance at a real, peer-to-peer friendship.

"Ah, well, who knows?" he asked, sighing a little and taking another sip of his tea. "You know, five rather suits me. After all, it holds three in its shape, doesn't it?"

Ikkaku chuckled again, amused by the turn of Yumichika's thoughts.

"If it works for you, Yumichika, then do as you please," the man said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You always have anyway, you damned brat."

Yumichika smiled at him and put his cup down, saying, "Well, that's decided then. Should we go?"

Ikkaku looked out at the setting sun falling behind a screen of treetops and buildings. "Nah," he said, settling back. "Not yet, Yumichika. It's kind of nice, isn't it? Just being here and everything all quiet."

"Yes," he answered, scooting the tray to one side and leaning back to mirror Ikkaku's own negligent pose.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, pitching his voice low. "Are you gonna be happy here?"

Yumichika considered carefully before he softly answered, "If you're happy, Ikkaku, then I'm happy."

Ikkaku grinned. "Brat."

"Idiot," he retorted, and sighed in contentment to have the man he loved so near.

---

As it turned out, Yumichika found a place rather sooner than he'd imagined. It wasn't a seat by any means, but he'd chanced to walk into Captain Zaraki's office - which he, apparently, used very little - and found a mountain of paperwork flooding his desk.

"What on earth?"

"Hi there, Pretty Yumi!"

Yumichika started a little, pressing his hand to his chest to assure his heart it was quite unharmed, and breathlessly said, "Lieutenant Yachiru! I thought you were at the training grounds with everyone else!"

"Kenny's gone to take his nap, and I saw you come in," she said, bouncing through the door behind him.

"What is all this?" Yumichika asked, gesturing at the paperwork.

"Uhm, sometimes people bring it," the little girl offered, cocking her head coyly. "Sometimes I pull on it so it falls! It looks like flat snow!"

"Flat snow? Goodness, of all the strange things," Yumichika breathed. "You mean none of you attends to this?"

"Nope!" she said, and giggled. Her bright eyes landed on Yumichika's chest, where his uniform crossed together below bare skin. "What's that mark, Yun-Yun?"

"Mark? Oh," he covered it, the curling vine of feathers that Ruri'iro Kujaku had so angrily left on him. He and his Soul Cutter hadn't spoken properly since... "It's nothing."

"Oh? How did it happen?" she pressed.

"Truly, Lieutenant, it's nothing," Yumichika assured her, turning away a little to hide it. "Why doesn't anyone do this work?"

"I don't want to, and Kenny thinks paperwork is stupid."

"But...don't the others get angry that it isn't done properly?" Yumichika asked.

The little girl laughed and cried with apparent delight, "Yep!"

"Honestly. Very well," Yumichika sighed, shaking his head. Clearly this squad was in worse shape than he'd imagined, and he wouldn't be fighting all the time like he'd come to enjoy. "Lieutenant, do you think Captain Zaraki would mind if I dealt with this?"

She shrugged. "I don't think he'd care, Yun-Yun! Sometimes, he takes it all and throws it in the floor, and someone comes and carries it away to burn it."

Yumichika shook his head again, but he wasn't surprised. "Then if you see Ikkaku, Lieutenant, could you tell him where I am?"

"Sure! Have fun, Yumi-kun!"

She dashed off immediately, no doubt thinking she might be roped into doing some of her assigned work.

"Well, this wasn't what I had in mind," Yumichika sighed, thinking he'd have to find someone to instruct him on how to do such things. "But if Ikkaku is going to be part of this Squad, we certainly won't be known as the squad that isn't literate enough or smart enough to handle a little paperwork, thank you very much!"

He seated himself at the desk and started sorting, making piles for things to be filed, for papers needing Zaraki's signature, for disciplinary memos needing replies, and for duplicate copies to be returned to Central Forty-Six. There were personnel papers scattered in with completely useless flyers, tallies of Squad Eleven accounts, unpaid bills, and strict extortions from several Soul Society product providers for delinquency on payments.

"Yumichika?"

He looked up whenever Ikkaku came in, a frown tugging his fine lips and drawing his arched brows together.

"What're you doing in here?" the man asked, glancing around at the piles of papers.

"Paperwork," Yumichika told him, sighing as he stood and cracked his neck. "What time is it?"

"Nearly time for dinner," Ikkaku said, surprising him. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yes, didn't the Lieutenant tell you?"

"No, all she did was hang on my arm fit to wrench it free and ask me when you got those scars," Ikkaku said, his dark grey eyes sliding to the exposed skin of Yumichika's chest. "Yumichika...you never did tell me - how did you get those scars?"

"What on earth does it matter? They're just scars, Ikkaku, you're riddled with them," Yumichika said, hoping to change the subject.

"Yeah, but not like yours," Ikkaku said, grinning suddenly. "My scars aren't pretty."

"I beg to differ, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, smiling at him. "I find your scars quite beautiful, indeed. They make a pattern of your will, Ikkaku. Life has left a trail to trace right on your skin, and that is a beautiful thing."

"Heh," Ikkaku said, shrugging. "If you say so, brat. I'll take your word for it, Yumichika. Those scars, though, I want to know how you got them."

"Through my own stubborn, foolhardy nature, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, his tone warning the man to leave it alone.

Ikkaku just gazed at him, weighing the necessity of pushing for more information.

"You can tell me anything, Yumichika," he finally said, his low, raspy voice actually gentle for a change. "You know that, right?"

"Of course, Ikkaku," he said, smiling to cover the ache in his heart that said otherwise. "You're the only one in the world I can trust."

Ikkaku grinned, baring his sharp, white teeth, enormously pleased with himself, his shoulders just a tad straighter and his chin tipped up just a fraction more. He took his friendship with Yumichika very seriously, and particular pride in being the only one the slender Death God allowed close to him.

"I want a bath," Yumichika told him, pushing the chair back into place and moving around the desk. "And you desperately need one!"

"Yeah, sorry," Ikkaku said, giving him a sheepish grin. "I came straight here. I didn't know what was keeping you."

"I can take care of myself, Madarame," Yumichika coolly told him, but the smile playing around his lips took the bite out of his words.

"And take care of me, too, while you're at it," Ikkaku said, and rolled his broad shoulders. "I could use a backrub, eh? I'm sore as hell. Those morons needed a lot of improvement."

Yumichika didn't say he would because Ikkaku already knew he would. Rin had ensured that Yumichika was more than acceptably proficient in massage, because the tempestuous beauty had required a full body rub-down before she could sleep. Besides, it gave Yumichika a good reason to be close to Ikkaku in a way the man would accept, and it was nice to be able to soothe Ikkaku's pains. Yumichika rarely had the desire to be tender or considerate of anyone, but Ikkaku was, as always, the exception.

They walked together back to the room they shared, Ikkaku loudly complaining of the unit he led, but the pride in his voice belied his harsh words.

"You'll have them whipped into shape in no time," Yumichika said, changing from his uniform into a plain white robe. Their room had a simple half-bath attached, just a commode and a sink for quick washing, so they still had to make use of the Squad Eleven public baths for true cleaning and soaking.

"Sooner than later, I hope," Ikkaku said. "So, no one has said anything to you about your placement here?"

"I don't think Zaraki runs things that cohesively," Yumichika said, letting Ikkaku lead the way to the baths. It was a pleasant path from the barracks, along a secluded, tree-lined walkway. "In fact, I think they pick their own units, or else the Seats pick their own unit members. Everyone else just seems to idle around picking fights as they wish and generally ignoring their duties except when he tells them something directly. I don't think they're lazy, Ikkaku, or that he's a bad leader, I think he just has better things to do and few of them are leaders."

"Hmph." Ikkaku glowered at the idea of it. "Well, they lack discipline, that's for sure. At least I'm in a position now to change that."

"Yes."

"I'll have you in my unit, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him. "You're a waste anywhere else, and stronger than anyone else...So...are you going to challenge someone soon?"

"Soon," Yumichika said, thinking about what he wanted to do. "But on the bright side, I'm certainly used to taking orders from you, Madarame."

It made Ikkaku laugh his throaty, hearty laugh that Yumichika loved and couldn't resist sharing.

"Actually, I wonder if all of the squads are this out of control?" Yumichika mused, nodding at the attendant before moving towards his locker. They all had their own areas for their use to store their robes and washcloths and, in Yumichika's case, his nail file. "Are we alone?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, angling a wry look at him. "Yumichika, I can't believe you're still so shy. Do you think none of these guys will ever see you? Eh? They will eventually, you know."

"I don't care about eventually, I care about right now," Yumichika told him, his stern look enough to make Ikkaku relent. "I can't bear for ugly eyes to look at me, Ikkaku. You know that."

"Yeah, well, I can understand your worry," Ikkaku said, shedding his robe and grabbing his towel. "You may not be a woman, Yumichika, but that won't stop some of them."

'I wish it wouldn't stop you,' Yumichika thought, then paused in horror thinking he might've actually said it out loud. Heart pounding, he looked over at Ikkaku, but the man was already on his way to wash up, paying him no mind.

'What on earth is wrong with me?' Yumichika wondered, horrified by the train of his thoughts. Of course...it would be nice if Ikkaku would look at him with something other than the same expression he viewed the furniture around them.

"Hey, hurry up, Yumichika," Ikkaku called back to him. "I'm sore, I said!"

Yumichika shook himself and joined him, washing thoroughly, enjoying the soap on his skin because nothing felt quite as amazing as clean did. He got Ikkaku's back for him as per the usual, stifling his reflexive laughter when Ikkaku returned the favor, unintentionally tickling him in the process. They sloshed water over each other and moved to the soaking room.

"Here," Yumichika said, moving to the low, flat table installed for just such a purpose.

Ikkaku stretched out on his belly with a sigh, his towel draped loosely over his hips. Yumichika tucked his own towel closer so it wouldn't fall, and sat next to him to work on Ikkaku's tense back.

"You weren't exaggerating," he murmured, soothed by the heat and the silence. "You're as tight as a bow string."

Ikkaku just grunted softly, almost asleep, growing pliant under his skilled hands. It worked better with some kind of oil, like Rin had prefered, but they'd never been able to afford any, and now that they could, they'd never had a chance to go buy some.

He worked methodically, content and relaxed, enjoying the way that Ikkaku's tightened muscles responded to his firm but gentle hands. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he failed to comprehend the sounds of another few people, and was taken by surprise whenever three others came in to soak.

They slowed to a stop when they saw him, eyes flicking from Ikkaku's body to Yumichika.

"Well?" he politely inquired, giving Ikkaku a pat on the small of his back to indicate that he was done. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Er...no, Ayasegawa, we..." one began, then trailed off, at a loss.

"We just wanted to soak for awhile," another took up, shamefaced. "We didn't mean to...to interrupt..."

"Just go soak, you idiots," Ikkaku growled, startling them. He leaned up enough to glare at them, which got them moving to a man. "Stupid."

"You'd think they've never seen anyone get a massage before," Yumichika softly said, cracking his fingers even though it wasn't beautiful.

"Well, they're gonna have to get used to a lot of changes," Ikkaku said, levering himself up. He tugged his towel off and draped it over a hook, following the others to the deep, heated bath.

Yumichika wasn't of a mind to expose himself to strangers, especially when they might remark on his scars, and he delayed at the table, fussing with his damp hair.

"Hey, now, listen to me, you knuckleheads," Ikkaku said, lying in the tub with his head back on the ledge and his grey eyes closed. "Yumichika doesn't fancy letting the likes of you have a look at him, you understand? I want you all to turn away so he can join us. Turn away, I said!"

They hurried to turn, their backs to him and their eyes averted.

"Ah. Thank you, Ikkaku," Yumichika sighed, shedding his towel and stepping into the hot water, shivering slightly as he sank in up to his chest. He moved next to Ikkaku and settled there with the man's arm stretched out along the ledge behind his shoulders. "Thank you, gentlemen. You're free to open your eyes."

They did so, rather subdued at first, but quickly regaining their spirits when Ikkaku engaged them in a rather unflattering contest of who exactly had bedded the most ugly woman and why they'd done so. Yumichika found it tasteless and crude, but it seemed to make them all quite friendly and willing to accept Ikkaku and, by default, Yumichika as well.

"So, tell me, gentlemen," Yumichika said, filling the companionable silence. "Are all of you from other squads?"

"We are, but he isn't," one of them said, cocking a thumb at the man on the end. "He opted in two years ago from the graduating class."

"Are the other squads structured in such a way?" Yumichika asked. "Things seem a little undefined."

"Ah, no! The other squads are pretty strict. Captain Zaraki, he's strict, too, but he doesn't care much for observing things like protocols and such. For the most part, if we do our drills and fight with him when he orders us to, he leaves us alone."

"Tetsuzaemon does enforce the rules with his unit, though," one of them said, nodding a little. "They're a pretty structured bunch, but none of the other Seated Officers bother."

"Hmph. Why's that?" Ikkaku asked.

"Because the Third Seat prefered to be left alone, and that sort of set an example, I guess. It trickled down from there to the rest of the Seated Officers except for Tetsuzaemon."

"Well, things are going to change," Ikkaku warned them, slitting his eyes open just a fraction to look at each man in turn, searching for signs of dismay or irritation.

All that Yumichika saw in their expressions, however, was relief. Dangerous men needed the structure and security of even more dangerous men being in charge. Expectations would give them focus, drills would hone their abilities, and duties would keep them from idly fighting amongst themselves from boredom.

"And anyone who says differently will get a pounding, got it?" Ikkaku clarified, scowling. "Captain Zaraki already gave me leave to do what I want with you all, provided I don't get in his way, which isn't fucking likely. So, spread the word."

"Yes, sir!"

Ikkaku sat up straighter, then, and reached for Yumichika's file, flipping it in his long fingers to get the slim edge out. Wordlessly, Yumichika offered his left hand, relaxing even more as Ikkaku went to work on his fingernails.

"What've you been doing, eh? Ragged as can be," Ikkaku complained, glaring at the offending nails while the others stared on in open-mouthed surprise. "Hey, you people - you've soaked enough, haven't you?"

"Er, yes, Madarame, sir!"

There was a hasty scramble for towels and the men obligingly departed.

"Thank you," Yumichika murmured.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, concentrating. "We're finishing up. I figured you'd like them to clear out."

Yumichika watched him working so diligently, smiling a little at the level of attention he paid something so inconsequential. But to Ikkaku it was important, and that made it important to Yumichika.

"So he's going to make you the de facto leader until he needs us?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ikkaku said, shrugging. "I didn't think of it like that, I just asked him if he minded us being a little more disciplined. He told me to do what I want if they'll let me, as long as I didn't get in his way."

"Hm."

"They'll listen, though," Ikkaku said, smiling his fierce, sharp smile. "I'll make them a squad worthy of dying for him."

"Is he worth dying for, Ikkaku?" Yumichika softly asked him, needing to know.

"Yeah, he is," Ikkaku said, looking up and dropping Yumichika's hand into the water, still loosely held in his own. "He's proud and powerful, and he has his own code of honor that allows for chances, Yumichika. He'd die happily if someone was able to kill him and give him a good fight in the process. So yeah, I think he's worth dying for."

Yumichika smiled at him, lightly plucking his hand free even though that's the last thing he wanted to do. Of course, there were many, many things he did despite the fact that he didn't want to...

"Very well, Ikkaku. If he's worth dying for, then I'll fight for him and have no regrets."

Ikkaku grinned, his sharp teeth bared and his grey eyes crinkling. "There's my Yumichika, eh?! Now, come on, brat - let's get changed and go drinking, yeah?"

---

Ryo returned quietly, with a silent watchfulness that Yumichika didn't quite trust. Ikkaku, however, feigned not to notice, and the furor died down without further comment.

Between Ikkaku and Iba, the Squad was quickly put on a regime of drills and exercises to fill their downtime. The other Seated Officers quickly took to the changes and threw themselves into it with the same abandon they showed when fighting, bringing an otherwise rowdy bunch of brutes into a semblance of control and effectiveness.

Yumichika himself took over the tedious duties of the Squad's paperwork - amply sustained and supplemented by the many incident reports generated in the wake of free time. He eventually got everything organized to the point of control, and made discreet inquiries to find an amenable Lieutenant who wouldn't look down his or her nose at a no-Seat member of the Eleventh.

The only one his cautious questions unearthed was one Matsumoto Rangiku, Lieutenant to the Tenth Squad's Captain Shiba.

And Yumichika took one look at her and decided if there were two people in Soul Society who should never ever meet, it was Matsumoto Rangiku and Madarame Ikkaku.

"Heeeeelllooooooo! Ah! Are you Yumichika? Someone told me you were coming! Come in! Come in!"

Yumichika closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head, and tried to reassess his first impression, but nothing had improved when his lids lifted.

"Hey, come on!" she cried, waving her arm around like he was her long-lost brother, a huge smile curving her generous lips. Her mouth, though, wasn't the only thing generous about her. She virtually burst from her uniform, an impression that the prim white scarf tied at her throat did nothing to alleviate, especially since some type of necklace chain accentuated the valley between her rather sizeable breasts. Yumichika was immediately put in mind of the Mistress, and took it out furiously on his thumbnail, chewing with a vengeance. "Say, do you drink? Eh? We should go out! You look like you know how to have fun!"

"True," he said, preening a little to cover his frantic thoughts. "But we are worlds apart, are we not? Class distinctions and all..."

She laughed, her blond hair feathering around her jaw in annoyingly lovely half-curls, her bright blue eyes traveling over him with renewed appreciation. She'd gotten his barb but decided to deflect it, saying, "Ah, now, don't be so formal! I know I'm a Lieutenant, but my Captain doesn't like those kinds of distinctions, now does he? He won't mind if you're a nobody! Come in!"

Yumichika stiffened in offenses, his voice clipped and short when he said, "Ah, well, I was told to come to you if I needed help with Squad paperwork, but - "

"You'll have better luck asking me."

Yumichika turned his violet eyes on an equally attractive youth who was still the size of a ten or eleven year old child. It was always so hard to tell age in Soul Society, and it was impolite to make assumptions...besides, surely no child could be so...grim?

Matsumoto tittered, waving her hand at the white-haired boy, saying, "Shiro-kun! Now, now! He'll get the wrong idea!"

The boy glared at her and tightly said, "He'll get the truth. And it's Third Seat Hitsugaya, Lieutenant Matsumoto." He executed a slight, polite incline of his head at Yumichika to direct his introduction. "If you have questions about the paperwork, I can give you proper instruction."

"Ah, you're no fun," Matsumoto complained, fanning herself and pursing her full lips. "Say! Want to go out later for drinks? Say yes! You have to say yes!"

"We'll see, Lieutenant Matsumoto," Yumichika hedged, not about to accept either her or her consequences.

"She's just fishing for free drinks," Third Seat Hitsugaya announced, bringing an abrupt end to her excited laughter. "You. Come with me."

"Yes, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika said, bowing prettily to him and quietly thinking that Captain Shiba must have nearly the same organizational ethics as Captain Zaraki. He primly followed in the young man's wake, taking surreptitious looks at the Tenth Squad's area of operations, leaving a deflated Lieutenant Matsumoto behind them.

'It's so clean,' he enviously thought, comparing it to the Eleventh's. 'I'll have to get onto those people. This is positively shameful!'

Third Seat Hitsugaya might be grim, but he was absolutely the best instructor that Yumichika could have asked for, and didn't begrudge him the small notebook he used to take detailed notes on what went where and why. Who needed what and how quickly, what certifications stamps were required where, what documents took precedence over others - these were not things that trial and error could teach, and these were not things that anyone in Squad Eleven had the inclination or the knowledge to perform. In this, at least, he would certainly be able to make an impact for the honor of his Squad and, by association, of Ikkaku.

"Do you have all that?" the Third Seat asked, pinning Yumichika with his unusual, turquoise eyes.

"Yes, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika said, impressed with his chilly composure. "Thank you very much for your time. I am sure with such instruction, I can hardly go wrong."

"Hm." Those eyes never wavered, prompting Yumichika to return the gaze with his own limpid, expressionless one. "Tell me, Ayasegawa, why is an unseated Squad member doing the work of Eleventh Squad's Lieutenant."

"Now, now, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika lightly said, smiling his own cool smile. "I am certainly not one to air internal Squad business. Let us merely assume that our Lieutenant Kusajishi is interested in the proper method of conducting her duties but lacks the time to come inquire in person. Unless, of course, I should ask why the Third Seat of Squad Ten is so proficient at doing his Lieutenant's work?"

Hitsugaya blinked, but otherwise didn't react. After a moment of silent scrutiny, he said with a soft sigh of aggravation, "You can go, Ayasegawa. Please contact me if you need any further assistance."

"Thank you, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika said, meaning it. He stood and bowed, adding, "I can show myself out."

He made his way towards the entrance gate with his notebook tucked securely in his uniform. When he stepped foot outside, however, someone pounced on him.

"Lieutenant Matsumoto!" he gasped, shocked to find her clinging to his arm like an overblown barnacle. "What on earth?!"

"I'll walk you back!" she offered, her eyes sparkling with a liveliness that was, frankly, quite scary. Her fingers dug into his arm with a firmness that refused any denial, and she took a long step forward, half dragging Yumichika with her. "I've always wanted to see inside there! Ha! What's it like, Yumichika, eh?" Her eyes took on an ornery gleam and she pitched her voice low, asking with obvious relish, "Do they really run around half naked all the time?"

"What? No!" Yumichika flared, forgetting to add her title, which apparently didn't bother her in the least. "Who ever said so? We're men, not beasts!"

She laughed, low and throaty, and tucked her arm companionably through his when Yumichika didn't immediately move to shake her free. Taking the bit between her teeth with the implied permission, she plowed mercilessly back towards the Eleventh Squad's area of operations, busily informing Yumichika on this and that, her bust bouncing so vigorously that he feared it might spill free at any given second.

And he was prepared to return the favor of pouncing in order to get her back in her uniform, thank you very much!

"Hello! Heeeelllloooooo!" she called, waving again, this time at the startled, staring Squad members who happened to be loitering outside of the gates. "Hi there! Do you know me? Eh?"

"L...Lieutenant Matsumoto!" the nearest stammered, not even attempting to disguise the fact that he was staring openly at her quivering bosom.

"Get back to your duties!" Yumichika hissed, fire in his eyes.

"Ah, my!" Matsumoto cooed, watching them hasten away. "And here I thought you were nobody! Silly me, I should've known better! That spirit pressure of yours is something!"

"No! No it's not," Yumichika corrected her, marching her through the gates because it was far more dignified to do so than to be dragged inside by this obnoxious, unbelievable female.

"Hello! Hellooooo! Anyone here want to go drinking?" she called, looking around.

Yumichika resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands when they all came pouring from the four corners of the compound, nearly falling all over each other to accept her offer.

"Haha! You're an eager bunch! How come I've never seen you?!" she asked, adding with irrepressible good humor, "My, my, what a hairdo! Do you do that yourself?"

"Lieutenant Matsumoto," Yumichika said, trying to regain some measure of control and sense in this situation. "Gentlemen, please! Lieutenant Matsumoto, really! You shouldn't be here! You're a Lieutenant; there isn't anyone here that you should be drinking with!"

"Eh? Who's drinking?"

Yumichika inhaled sharply, and spun to find Ikkaku coming towards them with Iba at his shoulder, the pair of them stalking down an aisle of free space that the Squad members unconsciously provided.

"Hello! Ah, I know you! Tetsuzaemon, right? Tetsuzaemon Iba," Matsumoto said, sounding pleased with herself. "President of the Death God Mens' Association, right?"

'It's a good thing he wears those dark glasses,' Yumichika thought, seeing the scarlet blush on Iba's cheeks and knowing exactly where the man's eyes currently were fixed.

Ikkaku, however, didn't wear such things, which gave the unfortunate Yumichika a front-row view of his grey eyes critically assessing Matsumoto from toes to scalp, and everything in between.

"Hey, lady," Ikkaku said, his raspy voice hushing the others, his grey eyes hard as flint but still sparking. Yumichika paled, feeling the sick sink of his stomach that he always felt when confronted with Ikkaku's latest conquest. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Er, that's the Tenth Squad's Lieutenant, Matsumoto Rangiku," Iba said in a stage whisper.

To his credit, Ikkaku's expression didn't change one whit.

"Zaraki's Squad Third Seat, Madarame Ikkaku," he said, and when he bared his sharp teeth in his usual pleased grin, Yumichika wearily lifted the white flag in defeat.

Because there was no mistaking it - she was his type, and the look she returned promised everything but discretion.

"So," Ikkaku said, his grin widening. "You want to drink?"

"Ah, well, I am curious about Squad Eleven," she said, smiling at the sea of male faces.

Yumichika unkindly thought that she seemed very pleased to have so many admirers, even if they were merely enamored of her curves.

"But, really, I just came to find someone to buy me drinks," she announced, and laughingly gave Yumichika a shake. "My beautiful sister, here, said we should come so I could make some new friends!"

"Sister?!" Yumichika hissed, horrified and outraged. "Lieutenant Matsumoto!"

Ikkaku laughed and, after a moment, the rest of Squad Eleven joined him, only quieting whenever Ikkaku remarked, "Yeah, well, he doesn't hit like any girl I've ever met, believe me. Come on, we were just going out, weren't we, Yumichika?"

"Yes, Ikkaku," he said, the response automatic. "And I am not a woman, Lieutenant!"

"Oh? Well, that's a shame!" she said, and leaned in close to whisper, "What a lucky woman you would be, living here with all these men! Ha!"

"Please!" Yumichika said, flipping his hair and tipping his nose up, offended by the suggestion. "How crude!"

"Stop complaining," Ikkaku said, throwing an arm over Yumichika's shoulders and dragging Matsumoto closer in the process. "We're going, right? Come on, Iba. We have a bet on, after all."

The bet turned out to be how many jugs of sake each person could finish off by the end of the night, which was decided by when you passed out or were forced home by the establishment.

Matsumoto was a drinker, and as the night wore on, it became astoundingly apparent to Yumichika that while she flirted and made herself appear to be a lascivious woman intent on seduction, she actually held back from anything untoward. She wanted men to buy her drinks, and if she had to flirt to get them, by heaven and earth, she would. But a woman with taste was a dangerous woman, indeed, and Yumichika reluctantly had to admit that the more he got to know her, the more she was Ikkaku in a woman's body.

Of course, if anybody loved Ikkaku as much as Yumichika did, it was Ikkaku himself, so he took to her like a dog to a puddle. Yumichika was almost grateful to be in a drunken stupor when the pair of them suddenly vanished, unremarked in the crowd by all but the slender Death God who sternly reminded himself that he'd made a vow.

'Well, it isn't the first stupid thing you've done, though it's the only thing to have such awful consequences...'

Yumichika disguised his start as a hiccup, and fiercely wished that having a Soul Cutter Spirit wasn't so much like having an uninvited guest in one's head at the worst possible times.

'Nothing helps me more than you sitting in judgement on every little thing I do,' he retorted, closing his eyes to keep the world from spinning. And maybe, just maybe, he could pretend that Ikkaku was still there next to him, right where he belonged.

'Oh? Yumichika, nothing you do is little. Little is for regular people, and regular would never describe either one of us,' the Azure Peacock pointed out. 'If you're going to sulk...'

The darkness behind his eyes swirled into the Azure Peacock's Garden.

'You may as well sulk here.'

Those dispassionate violet eyes watched him from a bed of blooms and feathers while Ruri'iro Kujaku idly pulled a braid of long, inky black hair through his fine, white fingers.

'Are you ready to be reasonable?'

"Are you ready to butt out of my business?" Yumichika countered, realizing with dismay that he was certainly drunk, which would in no way help his arguments.

Ruri'iro Kujaku sighed. It was a lovely, telling sigh, if not just a shade melodramatic.

'I'll choose the subject, then, if you're too out of your wits to make a decision,' the Azure Peacock offered. 'Madarame Ikkaku.'

The name was enough to send a barb into his heart. There was no better weapon that Ruri'iro Kujaku could use to wound him than that.

'I am a part of you, Yumichika, and you are likewise a part of me,' the Azure Peacock said, sliding up to sit. It really was artful, the way his loosened kimono cupped his upper arms, baring the tender slopes of his shoulders and the graceful stem of his neck. 'Yumichika...we cannot and should not live at odds with one another. I have graced you with my first release - consider it a gift for birthing me from your soul - but that will be the only gift I grant you. I have honored you with such a gift, and what did I get in return? Scorn. Disgust. Refusal. How would you feel, Yumichika, if you offered Ikkaku the gift of your heart and met with such a response?'

Yumichika looked away, tears filling his eyes. "I would not be such a fool, Ruri'iro Kujaku."

'Bravery is not foolishness, Yumichika,' the Azure Peacock reminded him. 'Had you more confidence in the value of your heart, you would not fear to give it, as I did not fear to give the gift of my first release. If you are not worthy of it is no fault of mine. If he is not worthy of it is no fault of yours.'

Yumichika took a breath, surprisingly encouraged by the short, impromptu speech.

"Ruri'iro Kujaku," he softly said daring to meet his own violet eyes in that now-familiar face. "I do value the gift you've given me. You are the only one who understands my heart; so, tell me, how can I honor you?"

The Azure Peacock considered him, too much like Yumichika to fool him for long with that cold, reserved demeanor.

'Wield me as you will, Yumichika, but when there is a chance, practice my first release,' he admonished. 'If we must both of us live a lie, at least give us the relief of being our true selves when we can. And...it wouldn't hurt if you looked more like me. After all, I have your violet eyes, don't I? It's only fair that you have something of mine.'

"I already bear your marks," Yumichika reminded him, indicating the scars on his arm and neck. They glowed azure in the Garden, and moved as if they had a life of their own between the layers of his skin.

'No,' Ruri'iro Kujaku said, a thread of warning in his melodious voice. 'You bear marks, but those are the result of your stupid reaction to incomprehensible beauty and power - those are not the marks of love, but of ignorance. These, I think, will suffice...'

He leaned closer and traced a long, lacquered nail over Yumichika's right eyebrow, repeating the light, feathering touch along the tips of his eyelashes.

'A small reminder when you look at that beautiful face of yours that I am always with you, always a part of you. I cannot fathom your love of Madarame Ikkaku, Yumichika; by design, I love and am loyal only to you. But if you feel for him a fraction of what I feel for you, then I can understand the madness you willingly thrust yourself into.'

Yumichika's eyes fluttered open, the right side slightly more weighty. He could see his reflection in the Azure Peacock's eyes, glowing as blue now as his namesake, and saw that he'd been graced with long, luxurious feathers on the lashes of his right eye as well as on his right eyebrow. Just like Ruri'iro Kujaku's.

'Now, back you go,' the Azure Peacock said, preening and pleased that Yumichika was preening and pleased. 'I think you'll be glad to find that he's returned...'

"Hey! Yumichika! Hey, I said!"

He opened his eyes to Ikkaku vigorously shaking his shoulder, a drunk Matsumoto draped against his side in a boneless heap.

"Come on, help me get her back to her Squad," Ikkaku said, and then paused, a suspicious scowl crossing his handsome features. "Where did those come from?"

Yumichika touched his eyebrow and eyelashes, and felt those feathers tickle his skin.

"Did you sleep with her?" he asked, the words escaping him before his sense could squash them.

"Eh? Answer me!" Ikkaku said, giving him a shake as if Yumichika hadn't heard properly the first time.

"You first," Yumichika shot back, scowling.

Ikkaku looked fairly at a loss, and admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, "Yeah. So? What difference does that make? She prefers girls most of the time, anyway. Now, where did those come from?"

"None of your business," Yumichika sharply said, standing unsteadily, the world spinning a little too much for his comfort. "Which is exactly what you should've told me just now."

"Hey, hey! What's this?" Ikkaku loudly demanded, making Yumichika aware that they were virtually alone in the bar, the majority of everyone else having either left or passed out in the meantime. "You're my business, I said, brat! And I'm yours! Why wouldn't I answer you when you ask me, eh? What kind of silly test was that? Stupid! I tell you everything, Yumichika, damn it! Now, come on, if you're done pouting, you damned brat! Help me get her back to her Squad."

"You wore her out," Yumichika said, the acid tone of his voice shocking even himself. "You take her back!"

"She's your friend," Ikkaku retorted. "You surprised me, Yumichika, showing up with a woman like this. She doesn't seem your style, even if she's pretty."

"Well, as long as she's your type," Yumichika told him, glaring when Matsumoto half-heartedly started a bawdy song, sliding in slow collapse down Ikkaku's side.

"Stop that! Don't act so jealous, Yumichika! It makes my head spin!" Ikkaku informed him, his brows knitted together in irritation as he scooped his drooping lily back up to her feet. "I can never figure out if you want them for yourself or not, damn it! Now, help me get her back, will you? Then we'll go home and put you to bed, you damned cranky brat."

Yumichika wavered, and relented with a tired sigh, though he was little help to Ikkaku when it came down to it. Actually, it was only once they'd dropped Matsumoto off with the Squad Ten gate guard that Yumichika realized something.

"You didn't need my help, did you?"

Ikkaku slung an arm over his shoulders and tugged him into the warm hollow of his lean body, saying in his low, raspy voice, "Nah, but I didn't want to leave you there alone, Yumichika, and you're too proud to come if I said so."

"I could've walked myself home," Yumichika tartly reminded him, then smiled ruefully whenever Ikkaku laughed.

"Yeah, right! You were sleeping, you damned brat! HAH! Sleeping like a kid again, curled up on a lumpy futon with bandages all over your skinny back."

"I was never skinny," Yumichika haughtily said, and ruined it with a hiccup. "I have always been thin!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ikkaku said, fondly ruffling his hair. "Come on, Yumichika - let's get you put to bed, eh?"

They made their slow, staggering way back to Squad Eleven and through the barracks to Ikkaku's room.

"I'm sorry, Ikkaku. I shouldn't have asked you," Yumichika said, more to distract himself from watching Ikkaku fluidly unroll their bedding. He'd shed his uniform down to his fundoshi and the light played on the rippling muscles of his back, making the most interesting patterns that begged to be traced...

She'd probably traced them. She'd probably shaped the contours of Ikkaku's body with her warm, feminine hands and marveled at the power of him.

"Ah? Why?" Task completed, Ikkaku turned to him and untied his clothes for him, peeling Yumichika free as he had when they were kids so long ago.

"I don't know," Yumichika admitted, and laughed a little, embarrassed because he couldn't say why. His mind kept relentlessly working against him - supplying him with images of pure fiction, but so terribly painful in their crisp possibilities. "Please...I'm talking nonsense. Ignore me."

"Nah," Ikkaku said, grinning at him and stepping back, knowing how odd Yumichika was about baring his unclothed body, even before Ikkaku. "I'll never ignore you, Yumichika, eh? Get some sleep, brat."

"Ikkaku?" Yumichika asked, gingerly tugging his nightclothes closed around him and tying the sash.

"Hm?"

"Stay with me," Yumichika said, because every time he thought of Matsumoto, he felt the cord that tied them together fray just a little more, and it terrified him.

"I do stay with you," Ikkaku said, and chuckled lowly as he got into bed. "See? Here I am, right with you, Yumichika. I'll take care of you, I said! Now, go to sleep."

Yumichika got into bed, staring at the wall for a long, silent moment. He turned his head to one side and looked at the faint outline of Ikkaku's body on his bed. Softly, numbly, he whispered, "That's not what I meant..."

But all he got in reply was a soft, guileless snore.

---

Everyone waited with baited breath for Yumichika to make his move, but it was Iba himself who decided things. The rather odd man sometimes took tea with Yumichika, claiming that he hoped to refine himself a bit more to be appealing to the Captains.

"I'm hoping to make Lieutenant someday, you know," he told Yumichika, holding his teacup with fingers clearly afraid of breaking the fragile porcelain. "There's no hope of that here in this squad - not having to go through Yachiru. Even then, the Captain would just refuse to accept the appointment. There's reasons he favors her, not the least of them being the fact that she's practically his daughter."

"Hm...loosen up that hand, please, Tetsuzaemon," Yumichika admonished. "This tea set is in bad enough shape that we don't need to wrangle the remaining pieces into submission."

"Er, sorry." The man blushed and relaxed his hold, taking a tentative sip. Yumichika felt bad for him sometimes, because despite the fact that he was a powerful fighter and trying hard to round himself out, he often came across as trying too hard to be a cool macho man. While Yumichika had no doubt that Iba was indeed every bit as macho as he appeared to be, it seemed to make people in other squads look down on him, and that was truly too bad. Other squads, he had learned, were very disdainful of Eleven until they needed someone's ass kicked, and then they were beating down the Squad doors, clamouring for help.

"Hey, Yumichika! Damn it, Yumichika! Where's my other clothes, eh?!"

They both looked up as Ikkaku came stomping towards them, the terrace vibrating with the force of his bare feet. He was scowling fit to kill someone, with his hands fisted at his hips and his grey eyes shooting sparks.

"I sent them out for washing," Yumichika lightly told him, smoothing his hair. "They were dirty, Ikkaku. It isn't beautiful to wear dirty things."

"Hmph. Hey, what're you two doing?" Ikkaku asked, turning his suspicions to their impromptu gathering.

"Being gentlemen," Yumichika sharply said, glaring at Ikkaku so that he'd take a hint.

"Yeah? Well, when you're done being gentlemen," Ikkaku said, nudging Iba with his bare toes. "I'm starving, so let's go eat."

"You could join us," Yumichika suggested, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Er, nah," Ikkaku said, scowling into the distance at a gaggle of squad members before shouting at the top of his impressive lungs, "What the hell are you guys doing, eh?! Didn't I tell you to clean up the training grounds?!"

He stomped off after them, even though they were fleeing for it, and Yumichika breathed another content sigh, softly shaking his head.

"He doesn't realize he does that, does he?" Iba asked, watching Ikkaku from behind the dark lenses of his glasses.

"What? Shouts?" Yumichika inquired, politely offering to refill Iba's cup. "No, it's natural for him..."

"Not that," Iba said, and seemed to hesitate a little.

"Iba," Yumichika said, though he wasn't usually so informal with the man he'd come to respect. "Please, I feel as if we've come to understand one another, and I respect you as a close associate of Ikkaku's. What did you wish to say just now?"

Because, honestly, it would eat him up with curiosity if he didn't find out, though he'd rather choke than admit such a thing.

"Er, I meant, I meant, he doesn't realize he treats you that way," Iba said, and blushed a bright, rosy pink at his own temerity. "Like a wife instead of a comrade."

Yumichika blinked, his brain skipping for a second, frantically combing his own day-to-day interactions with Ikkaku for signs of just such a thing.

He turned up a good many more than he expected or ever would've noticed. Instead of letting on, he took another sip of his tea and mildly said, "I am sure Ikkaku doesn't see it that way at all. We are merely old friends with a long, shared history. It breeds a certain comfort that is difficult to find with others, or explain to others."

"Ayasegawa," Iba said, placing his cup down with a delicacy that Yumichika silently approved of. "I didn't mean to offend you. It was a thought I should have kept to myself."

"Please, think nothing more of it," Yumichika urged him, smoothing his proverbial ruffled feathers. "I'm sure it's strange to everyone that we share a room. It was bound to spark certain...ugly speculations."

"Well, on the bright side," Iba said, hazarding a smile, which Yumichika returned with beaming warmth. "If you take my Seat, you'll get your own room, and that would put an end to most of it."

Yumichika managed to cover his dismay with another sip of his tea, asking in a conversational tone, "Oh? I'd forgotten that, Iba. My own room. Now, wouldn't that be a treat?"

"Heh, after living with that for so long?" Iba asked, laughingly tipping his head towards Ikkaku, who was enjoying himself beating some obedience into those squad members in the distance. "I'd think it'd be a relief!"

Yumichika laughed with him, thoughtfully sliding his hand through his hair, but his thoughts remained on what Iba had said.

If he took the Fourth Seat from Iba, then he'd have the man's room.

If he had his own room, he'd had to move out of Ikkaku's.

If he moved out of Ikkaku's room...well, that just started a gentle slope of separation which would culminate in a landslide of loss that he simply refused to bear.

"A relief," he murmured, smirking when Ikkaku planted one bare foot on an unsuspecting hind end and sent a startled Death God sprawling. "Yes, I suppose it would be."

It was certainly something to consider.

Now all he had to do was come up with a plausible reason why, because Ikkaku would certainly demand one, after all.