A/N: I own nothing. Written veeeeerrryyy late for my packmate Henka-chan's birthday. Pre-manga.

Yumi strode onto the field to start his entry exam for eleventh squad all faux-confidence and bravado. He wasn't so much afraid of the test, though it was the most feared at the academy. He was afraid of failing though, his personal humiliation aside and that would be bad enough, he didn't want to be separated from Ikkaku. His friend had passed the previous day and if they wound up in different squads it would take him decades to gain that level of respect and acceptance with anyone else. If he ever did.

At least in that scenario they could still be together though he knew they would drift apart in time. If he got in a bind and his Zanpakuto decided to release fully, Ikkaku would know his secret, what a pussy he was. If Ikakku just never talked to him again, it would be the best case scenario. He expected outright hatred though, years of relentless torment for being a poser.

Sweat gathered on his brow and back as he waited for his turned. The sun beat down on him, a mocking, all-seeing eye burning through his tough facade to reveal a soft kido-based core. And yet he could give Ikkaku a run for his money when they sparred.

"Yer up bitch," Zaraki yelled from his spot at the starting line. Yumi trotted up to the line unimpressed. The huge captain sounded more bored than aggressive, besides the worst he could do was kill him, that would be preferable to failure and disgrace.

At the captain's sharp command Yumi sprinted into the special stone pen and felt his hair rise as a twelfth division member closed the kido gate behind him to protect the rest of Seireitei. Yumi dove into the swarms of hollows 'borrowed' from twelfth division, his shikai flashed reflecting the full spectrum of color and he smiled admiring the beauty of it as he danced in the midst of the hollows.

He could feel his heartbeat clashing with Kujaku's energy but ignored it. When the last hollow fell it disappeared in a pretty swirl of spirit particles, almost making up for the dissonance he felt with his loathsome blade.

The gate on the far side of the arena lowered. He raced through onto the large grassland and began leaping through the obstacle course. He barely registered his own actions, mind fixated only on his current objective, his muscles performed their tasks with the instinct of long training.

Five minute fight with a squadmate on a twenty-foot high platform. Done. Run through trenches. Done Swim across the pool… a spray of water hit him in the face and broke his trance. Pain lanced into his nose fading to numbness as the water was swiftly followed by a punch. He felt a shock in his arm as it block another swing almost of its own accord.

He struggled to swim as he tussled with his opponent, who he found to be an eleventh squadmember several inches taller than himself. It occurred to him slowly—concussion?— that his opponent was standing and he quickly did the same and found the water to be barely higher than his waist.

Crossing was not an option even if he could stand to let the guy walk away after punching him, and he couldn't, it would be far too easy for the man to drown him if he simply focused on bulling across. Must defeat him, he thought falling back into his battle trance. His opponent back away a few steps as Yumi attacked, apparently surprised by his ferocity. Yumi's lips spread in a cold smile as he fought on.

The tide quickly turned though he never lost his smile. The advantage he'd gained by being underestimated was gone and his opponent was more experienced, bigger and had a fully released shikai. He trapped his opponent's sword between Kujaku's blades, grunting as he tried to twist it. A muscular hand slammed into the back of his head and forced him under the water.

He struggled, lungs screaming for air as liquid filled them. He fought his way to the surface only to be shoved back under. His opponent, apparently having recovered his unseemly arrogance, pulled Yumi to the surface again.

"Ain't as good as ya'…" he began. Yumi punched him in the throat and slashed his chest open with Kujaku, letting him fall back into the water for the fourth to fish out. He swam the rest of the way across and dragged himself up the steep, slippery mud bank, struggling not to fall back into the water. He gained the top, forced himself to his feet on shaking legs and began to lope on, chest heaving.

Can't give in, have to be good enough for Ikkaku, for the eleventh, he thought desperately as he came upon another arena, this one marked by a mere stonewall. He entered to find the ground covered in patches of coals, gouts of fire shot intermittently from fissures in the stony ground. He took this in as a background awareness, the majority of his fading concentration focused on the Shinigami in front of him.

He ducked, swung his sword and ducked again, feinting left as his opponent's saber-like blade bit into the ground. Yumi dove forward, his own blade flashing in the firelight, ignoring the heat as a gout of fire singed his lovely hair. His opponent dodged back and too exhausted to correct for the move Yumi felt his sword strike the earth.

He felt the intrusion as his opponent's blade sliced a long cut between two of his ribs and its owner turned and threw himself into a flurry of follow-up attacks with hitherto unseen speed. He twisted under the onslaught and finally registered the pain from his cut as it burned with the motion. He did his best to dodge, block but every move was a hair slow, his muscles jelly and mind fogged. Blood flowed freely from a dozen, a score, two score wounds. He refused to give in though and swung Kujaku futilely, barely scratching his opponent who responded by driving a stomp kick down on his foot. He heard the bones snap and gasped but kept struggling.

He couldn't give in, even knowing that he'd lose he had to keep trying, he couldn't just lay down and accept defeat. Ikkaku would have been disgusted.

X

Yumi bolted awake and found his arms pinned down, a scream tore itself from him. A hand landed on his arm.

"Easy man you'll 'ave Unohana-taichou on my ass," Ikkaku's familiar voice said. Yumi calmed instantly and he bit off the sound. He looked around and found that he was in a bed in the fourth division. He was strapped down which was highly disturbing, but there were no enemies in the room, just Ikkaku and his companion's legendary captain.

"I'm sorry," he said to Ikkaku. He met the warrior's eyes because it was important that Ikkaku knew the truth of his words, though he had to bite his lip to keep it from quivering. He refused to break down in front of the captain but it was taking everything he had not to.

Ikkaku released his painful grip and moved his left hand to Yumi's shoulder, his right was in a sling.

"It's kay man." he was smiling. Yumi forced one in return. "No really man same thing happened to me it's fine," Ikkaku continued grinning with genuine happiness.

"If ya' could beat an actual squad member it wouldn' be much o' a squad would it?" the captain asked.

"I…I was supposed to fail?"

"Ya' was s'pposed to fight even when ya' knew it was hopeless," the captain said.

"You're in," Ikkaku was still grinning ear to ear.

Yumi looked away as tears filled his eyes. The captain snorted and he could hear the man's heavy stride as he left them alone.

Ikkaku lost his restraint and hugged him, he grunted in pain. "I'm in," Yumi whispered in choked voice, disbelieving, allowing relieved tears to stream down his face

"Yeah man," Ikkaku said he didn't thank Yumi and didn't have to.

X

Zaraki smirked as listened to the twelfth division dossier again to make sure he hadn't misunderstood. The kid had a kido-type but hadn't even tried to use its ability. Obviously he liked a challenge, that suited the squad just fine, his loyalty was just as obvious and just as desirable. Yeah he would make a helluv an addition. Shit he'd gotten farther than his friend.