I'm glad to see everyone liked my conclusion to the Camping arc. I did, too. It was fun.
This idea came to me suddenly, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto don't take center stage in this one, although they do have a part. I like how this turned out, and the possibilities set forth by this chapter are quite vast, I think.
Enjoy.
Oh, yeah. There's quite a bit of swearing in this one, thanks to an intoxicated Ikkaku and an irritated Zaraki.
"WHAAAAT!!!?!"
"Shut up!!" Zaraki snarled and threw his empty bottle of liquor at the bald shinigami. "Frickin' retard!! I got a goddamn hangover an' I don't need you screamin' bloody murder in my office!"
Ikkaku pitched himself to the side, barely missing the glass projectile, and threw himself back up onto his feet. "B-B-But...Zaraki-taichou! I ain't...I ain't gonna...!!"
"Tch..." Zaraki growled with irritation. "Look, you bald fuckin' idiot...Yumichika tol' me 'bout that stupid-ass vow you made. The hell's your problem? Huh? You think I give a shit 'bout yer numb-fuck 'xpression a' loyalty?"
"Don't matter," Ikkaku said. "Was a promise I made t' myself, Taichou, an' I ain't gonna go breakin' it just 'cuz—"
"Look, Ikkaku. Don't think you get it. This place's frickin' useless right now. Everything's all screwed up 'n if we wanna stay here, we gotta pull our weight 'n make it right again. Now I dunno 'bout your stupid ass, but I don't intend t' leave! Man up 'n fuckin' do your part, asshole! Ya got yer fuckin' bankai, f' God's sake!!"
Ikkaku's eyes widened. "What the...how the f...!"
"Tch." Zaraki rolled his eye and leaned back in his chair. "Don't matter how I know, jackass. Point is, I do. N' Old Man Yamamoto knows too. Been pesterin' me all frickin' week t' 'let you go,' like I'm fightin' t' fuckin' keep you. Face it. They're fuckin' dyin' over there. Damn weak-ass punks could use you two. More 'n me. Gettin' too damn annoying."
"Z-Zaraki-taichou...this ain't...ain't like...I mean...I already told Renji that..."
"I look like I care a flyin' fuck what you told Renji?! Ain't frickin' Renji what told me. Y'oughtta take care who's around if ya don' wan' people knowin' somethin'. Gotta bone t' pick wi' somebody? Talk t' Matsumoto."
"...Matsumoto...? S-She told...!"
"Quit whinin', Ikkaku. Go talk t' her if ya gotta. Don't jus' stand there lookin' stupid."
Ikkaku growled, eyebrow twitching, and whirled on his heel. He stalked out of the office.
Zaraki rolled his eye again. "...Fuckin' drunk-ass moron."
Matsumoto looked up, a blank expression on her face, when Ikkaku burst into the office.
"Ikkaku?" she asked, setting her pen down and leaning back in her chair. "Something you need?"
Ikkaku's jaw cracked audibly as he flexed, spread in a grin that was one part manic and two parts sadism. "Oi...Matsumoto-fukutaichou..." he hissed through clenched teeth.
Matsumoto blinked. "...Yes? What is it?"
There was an aura of murderous intent rolling off of the third-seat shinigami as he stepped, ever so slowly, toward Matsumoto's desk. One hand clenched his zanpakutou with such force that the veins bulged and the knuckles were white.
"I hear...you told Zaraki-taichou...something...something that was not supposed to be told...to anyone!!"
Matsumoto sighed. "Well, Ikkaku, excuse me for not reading your mind, but I thought you of all people, prancing around proclaiming your strength and picking fights with everyone, would want Soul Society knowing that you had achieved bankai. It would cause stronger opponents to come challenging you...wouldn't it?"
"Idiot!!" Ikkaku screamed. "Do you know what the fuck that means?! Everybody goddamn knows that I got bankai, and now they'll be pesterin' me all over the goddamn place!! I ain't leavin', and now you made it ten fuckin' times harder!!"
Matsumoto shook her head. "...Foolish. Who wouldn't want the opportunity to—"
"Would you?!" Ikkaku shouted.
"...Huh?"
"Would you leave, if somebody offered you a new position!!"
"Would I...? No. No, I wouldn't."
"See?! Then why the hell'd you tell every fuckin' body that I—"
"Ikkaku, stop shouting."
Mouth twisted in a scowl of incomprehensible rage, Ikkaku growled. "...'F you understand...why'd you tell? Huh?"
"I highly doubt my reasons for not leaving this division are even close to similar to yours, Ikkaku."
"An' how the fuck would you kn—"
"Are you dating Zaraki, Ikkaku?"
"WHAT?! The hell kinda question is—fuck no!!"
"See? I told you."
"Don't go fuckin' changin' the goddamn subje..."
Ikkaku blinked.
"...Huh?"
Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "Just leave, would you? You'll wake Toushirou. He's been up these past three days, and needs to rest."
"...Toushirou?! Since fuck when did you start callin' him 'Toushirou'?!"
"In case you missed it, that is his name."
"Not t' us, it ain't!! Frickin' uptight Hitsugaya don't let no one call 'im by 'at name!"
"No one...but me. Are you done screaming now? I do believe Yamamoto-soutaichou is looking for you."
"...You...fucking traitor!!'
Before Matsumoto even had time to react, Ikkaku had her by the collar. His free fist rose, and his eyes seemed to glow with bloodlust.
Before the strike could connect, however, Ikkaku's hand was swallowed by ice.
The temperature in the office dropped to near-freezing.
Ikkaku whirled around, facing a tired, irritated, disheveled Hitsugaya, who was leaning against the door that led into his private chamber.
"...Madarame...you've been drinking on duty..."
"So the fuck what?!"
"Shut up, you idiot," the boy captain snapped. "I don't care what your reasons for coming here are. I don't care why you decided it was prudent to get yourself drunk while working. I don't care that you didn't want anyone to know that your bankai has been accomplished, or that you don't want to leave your current position."
The bald shinigami's face slackened, as if finally realizing just what he had gotten himself into.
Hitsugaya's eyes were dangerously bright, and his slight body trembled with barely-contained fury. He reached back and grasped Hyourinmaru's hilt.
"...No one...raises a hand against Rangiku..."
The third-seat was thrown against the wall by a sudden pulse of spiritual energy. As he struggled to breathe, the thought crossed his mind that he had never seen Hitsugaya Toushirou this angry before.
The white-haired captain walked slowly toward him, green eyes alight with angry fire. "...You are a shinigami of the Gotei 13...Madarame Ikkaku. And if it is demanded that you leave your position for another...then you will acquiesce...or leave. Those are the only options. We are struggling to pick up the slack left by three traitorous captains, and you refuse to do your part because of some foolish, inconsequential, ultimately selfish desire to remain an underling! And you have the audacity to proclaim strength! What is it that you think strength is, Madarame?! Because your current behavior is surely not!"
Ikkaku stared.
"...Get out of here. If I see you within my headquarters as you are, inebriated to the point that you would attack a comrade and, more to the point, a superior officer, again...I will not hesitate to kill you."
Ikkaku flew through the wall and was pitched like a rag doll out into the open air.
He realized that some fights...he did not want.
"So, Ikkaku...I notice that you haven't been partaking of alcohol lately."
"Shut up, Yumi," came the curt reply as Ikkaku walked stiffly down the path, shifting his shoulders and adjusting the way his zanpakutou fit against his hip. "Damn frickin' coat don't fit right..."
Yumichika smirked. "I don't see the problem, honestly. Sure, the Eleventh was nice, but a change of scenery might be nice, too. Besides, most of the soldiers in Zaraki's division were rather ugly...and stupid, besides."
"Tch. Whatever. Traitor."
"My, my, Ikkaku, but aren't you the loyal one? I wonder, then, why you wear this." He picked at the white collar of Ikkaku's cloak, and chuckled when his hand was batted away.
"I said shut up! I'm yer damn boss, now, ingrate, so ya gotta listen t' me..."
"Mm...I see. My deepest apologies, Ikkaku-dono."
"...Tch."
Looking the door of his destination up and down, Ikkaku still felt a fleeting urge to strangle Matsumoto. She was the reason he was in this mess.
Why'd everyone have to belittle his wishes so damn much, anyway?!
Where was the justice?
With a snarl, he kicked the door open instead of bothering with the knob.
A slight figure stood there in front of him.
The figure bowed.
"Konichi wa, Taichou."
"...Oi. Hinamori. Stand up, would ya? Ain't hung up on no formalities. Get somebody t' fix the damn door, too. Too damn flimsy."
"Hai, Taichou. At once."
Hinamori smiled brightly.
As the vice-captain and newly appointed third seat officer of the Fifth Division followed their bald, angry captain into their headquarters, Yumichika couldn't help but think that this was going to be very, very interesting.
