Anonymous said:
hello ms. polynya! if you are still taking drabble requests and are in the mood for it, I would love to see more of the mall AU (yes, THAT mall AU lmao). bonus points for more omnidirectional horny teenage pining, because that first mall AU drabble nearly made me cry laughing and I've been thinking about it ever since. Would love the ensemble cast/lieutenant goon squad because I really enjoy how you riff off of these characters, and/or renji and izuru being dumb friends and also wrangling their Big Crushes. no pressure to fill this though, thanks for being wonderful and generous ?

I saved this one 'til last so I would have something to look forward to. I love the Mall Goths AU (it's Ch 7, you should probably read it first), it is my greatest pleasure in life to write a bunch of undead shonen badasses as dorky teens trying to ask their crushes to prom.

Thank you to AlopexPlasma, who came up with the name of Renji's car. I compulsively write Renji driving a Camaro in every AU I can conceivably shoehorn it into, and somehow, the incredibly obvious name never occurred to me. I am a moron.

Renji folded his hands on his knees and leaned forward, regarding Izuru very, very seriously. "Look, as you know, I don't have any money, or... connections, or… well, anything, really, but you know that if you got cancer or were in a car wreck or something, any organs that I have two of, like kidneys or lungs? One of them would be yours, man. Bone marrow? I have so much bone marrow, and you can have as much of it as you want."

"You know," Momo pointed out, setting two paper cups down on the table, "if you marry Rukia someday, you will be absolutely rolling in it. I brought you coffee."

"I assume she would want a pre-nup," Renji replied very philosophically. "Which I respect."

Izuru rolled his eyes and picked up his coffee. Just before taking a sip, he remembered. "Is this just the sludge that collects at the bottom of the airpot again?"

"Could be," Momo tried to sound innocent.

"Oh, boy, my favorite!" Renji announced. "It's so good, you just have to put, like, six creamers in. You want some creamers, Izuru?"

"I'll pass," Izuru said, pushing the coffee away. "Why can't we do this in the game store, again?"

"Because Rukia hangs out at the game store!"

Instead, they were in the Barnes and Noble, where Momo worked in the cafe. Nothing personal to Momo, but Izuru hated the Barnes and Noble. It felt so bland and corporate, and smelled like new carpet, and he always felt like he should buy something if he was going to hang out there (not that he ever did). Besides, the couch was comfier at the game store.

"Just do this for him," Momo implored, while Renji dug through the creamers, trying to find six that matched.

"It's not that I don't want to do it," Izuru explained. "It's that I think it's a bad idea. You have been friends with Rukia since, what, fifth grade?"

"Third grade."

"Third grade. Right. You sit next to her in class. You eat lunch with her. You talk to her all the time. Just say, 'hey, Rukia, I really like you, will you go to prom with me?' There's no way she can look into your dumb puppy eyes and say no. Tell him, Momo."

"Izuru's certainly right about the puppy eyes."

Renji sighed. "You don't know Rukia like I do. Her family doesn't do affection at all, and talking about feelings really scares her. If I ask her point blank like that, she'll get defensive, and she won't speak to me for a month, and she won't go to prom at all, and then I'll have to third-wheel Ikkaku and Yumichika."

"You don't have to do that," Izuru pointed out. "You could…" he waved a hand vaguely. "You could take Momo."

Momo shook her head. "Nanao and the Kotetsu sisters and I agreed to go together as gal pals," she explained. "You could be a gal pal with us, I suppose, but only if you're willing to coordinate outfits. You do look good in aqua."

"Thanks," Renji replied glumly. "Hey, I thought Rangiku was in your group, too?"

"Oh, she got a date."

Izuru sniffed, pretending to be disinterested. If Shuuhei had finally gotten up the courage to ask Rangiku, then good for him.

"That upperclassman with the silver hair, Gin, asked her. He seems a little creepy to me, but she really likes him, and he's friends with Aizen-sempai, so he must be a decent guy."

Kira's hands tightened on his knees. "She's not going with Shuuhei?"

Renji gave him a look.

"Shuuhei says prom is lame and he's not going," Momo shrugged.

"I see," Izuru frowned. "I mean, he's not wrong."

"He is wrong!" Renji protested. "Prom rocks. You wear fancy outfits and buy flowers for the person you like and there's some insane theme, like Arabian Nights or Haunted Halloween Castle. You slow dance to 'Don't Wanna Miss a Thing' by Aerosmith, and when it's over you go get pancakes. What part of that isn't awesome?"

"This year's theme is 'Lifetimes Past,'" Momo dryly informed him.

"Exactly. In any case, I have dreamed of taking Rukia to prom for years, are you going to help me write her a love letter or not?"

Izuru groaned. "I don't know why Rukia gets such crummy grades, because she's actually very smart. She is definitely going to be able to tell that you didn't write this."

"I know that! You think I don't know how smart she is? Look, I just want you to write it all nice in Kira-speak, and then I'll translate it into dumbass. Just help me get my thoughts together. You know I don't word good, but I really think that writing it out and giving her a chance to process it on her own is the best way to go about this."

Momo turned sad eyes on Izuru, not that his resolve wasn't already crumbling. Abarai was a goon and a bonehead, but his devotion to his long-time best friend was tooth-rottingly sweet. Izuru would feel like a villain in a Christmas special if he said no.

"Fine. Fine. But I want you to help me get the Festiva running again and I get to approve whatever it is you're planning on wearing to prom. It better have sleeves, for one thing."

"Deal!" Renji replied, his face splitting into a huge grin.

Izuru turned to a clean page in his writing notebook and licked the tip of his pen. "Dear Rukia," he narrated.

"No! Don't put her name!"

"Don't put her name?"

"No names. I have seen a lot of teen movies, and notes like these always end up in the wrong hands. Rukia would die if something like that happened. Or if her brother found it, he would straight up murder me and then I wouldn't get to go to prom."

Izuru blinked at him. "Fine. No names." He tapped his pen against the page. " 'We have been friends for a long time, and I feel that the time has come for me to make a clean breast of it. You are the most important person in my life. I am utterly besotten-"

"Er, hey, um, Izuru." The tips of Renji's ears were very pink. "Not to say that this isn't, um, true, but I was thinking more along the lines of 'Do you want to go to prom? JUST AS FRIENDS' Maybe that part could be all in caps? or underlined? We could put in some little boxes that she could just check off 'yes' or 'no' and hand it back to me?"

Izuru raised one eyebrow. "But you don't want to go 'just as friends.'"

"Well, that's true, yes, but this is Rukia we're talking about, so you kinda have to ease her into things."

Izuru regarded Renji with lidded eyes. "You can't even ask her to prom as friends? You're such a coward."

"I'm not a coward," Renji returned, but his voice was very small.

"You're sixteen and I do not like to throw the word 'love' around, but it's very obvious that you love Rukia, and I refuse to help you ask her to the prom as friends. You don't have to admit everything, but you have to admit something. It's go big or go home."

"Okay," Renji grumbled.

"I think he's right," Momo said, patting Renji's hand. "She must wonder how you feel about her from time to time. If you insist on framing it 'as friends', she may actually view that as a rejection of the possibility of anything romantic ever happening between the two of you."

Renji wrinkled his nose, but didn't say anything.

"Ahem," Izuru cleared his throat. "Let's put in some compliments. What are some things you like about Rukia?"

"Things he liked about Rukia" was one of Renji's very favorite subjects, and he perked up right away. "She's cool," he announced. "She's cool as hell. Write that down."

"I think you're cool as hell," Izuru wrote down reluctantly. This is not your love letter, he reminded himself. No one is even going to know you had anything to do with this.

"Your hair smells really good and you're the most creative person I know," Renji dictated. "You have incredibly sexy biceps."

"Renji."

"What? She does!"

"Fine, fine. That's probably enough compliments, we need to keep this to one page. Um, what do you regard as your primary 'ship symbolism?"

"My what now?"

"You know. When you think about Rukia and yourself, what metaphor springs to mind? Sun and moon? Sea and sky? King and lionheart?"

Renji looked utterly perplexed.

"Momo, help me out. How do you see you and Aizen-sempai?" "Doctor and Companion," Momo answered immediately.

Izuru made a face. "Right."

Renji's face was screwed up in hard thought. Izuru could practically smell circuitry frying. "Rukia is like… a star?" he finally hazarded.

"A star is good!" Momo encouraged.

"And you are…?" Izuru prompted. "The moon? The sky? A different star?"

"A Camaro?" Renji guessed. "I'm loud and I have a powerful engine."

"How are you even in AP Literature?" Izuru groaned.

"Well, what's your dominant simile or whatever with Shuuhei?" Renji demanded.

"Poet and warrior," Izuru snapped back testily.

"Which one of you is the warrior?" Momo asked, wrinkling her nose. "I mean, you both work on the school newspaper."

"Shuuhei takes tae kwon do!" Izuru insisted.

"Well, why don't you just write in whatever you're gonna say for the poet-warrior thing, since you've obviously already put a lotta thought into it," Renji suggested. "I'll polish up my star/sportscar metaphor and drop it in when I copy it over."

Izuru did not like leaving the keystone of a love confession in the hands of a man who thought manual transmissions were romantic, but he had to go on shift down at the food court in half an hour. He had to keep this moving. "Fine," he bit off. "'You are my muse. Your strength of body and spirit inspire poetry in me. My soul sings when I am with you. If only I had your bravery, this admission would be much easier. Instead, I am sending you this shy missive to ask, from the depths of my tender heart: Will you go to the prom with me?' Done."

"Oh, that was so romantic," Momo sighed. "Izuru, you should write a romance novel."

"Never," Izuru replied.

Renji was making a Renji face.

"You hate it."

"It was just… pretty flowery."

"Rewrite it however you want. 'My soul revs at 5000 rpm for you, right before I drop my rusty bumper in your brother's driveway again.'"

"Don't trash talk Zabimaro!"

"I would never trash talk Zabimaro, I was trash talking the metaphorical Camaro that is your love for Rukia." Izuru ripped the page out of his notebook and handed it over. "Here you go. I gotta go to work. Beef n' Cheddars don't assemble themselves."

Renji studied the page for a moment. "Thanks, Izuru. You won't regret this."

"I already regret it. Good luck. I still think you should just talk to her."

"Well, I think you should ask Shuuhei!" Renji barked out suddenly. "I know you want to! You can go to Denny's with us afterward!"

Izuru flashed him a pitying look. "Thank you for your concern, but I happen to share the opinion that prom is lame and I have no plans to attend."

When Izuru walked into the gaming store the next day, Ikkaku and Iba were sitting at the front table, assembling decks of Magic cards.

"The girls took over the back," Ikkaku grumbled bitterly as he contemplated a Thicket Basilisk.

"Is Renji here?" Izuru asked. "He said he was coming today."

"Haven't seen him," Iba grunted. "Your friend Hinamori is, though."

Izuru had been trying to maintain his usual heavy veneer of Not Caring About Abarai's Wretched Love Life, but secretly, he was dying to know how the note had gone over. Renji had said he was going to give it to Rukia after school, and then ghost off to soccer practice so she had time to think it over. Izuru thought this was the dumbest idea he had ever heard, apart from every other plan Renji had ever had.

There certainly was a lot of giggling coming from the back of the store. Rangiku was holding court on the couch, Momo and Rukia on either side of her. On the coffee table, half a dozen magazines featuring girls in sparkly dresses were scattered among the usual copies of Dragon and Wizard.

"I can't decide if I want to go for a one-shoulder gown, or something completely strapless," Rangiku was sighing. "Rukia, you have good shoulders, what are you thinking?"

Rukia mumbled something about lacking the necessary structural support for a sleeveless gown.

"You'd be surprised! It just needs to fit tightly enough!"

"You should come shopping with us on Saturday, Rukia!" Momo offered brightly. "You really don't know what's going to look good until you try it on."

"Oh…" Rukia stammered. "My brother said he would buy me a dress. He said it's important that I reflect well on the family."

"Fortunately, your brother has killer taste," Rangiku shrugged. "I would let him buy me all the dresses he wanted to." She smiled her bright, friendly smile. "You could still come shopping, though, get some ideas of what you like! We could take some pictures to show him. I'm sure he takes input."

Izuru had met Rukia's brother. The man most certainly did not take input.

"Plus, it'll just be fun to have you along!" Momo encouraged. "You have a great sense of style, I'd love to have your opinions!"

The portents looked auspicious, but Izuru needed positive confirmation. "Are you planning to go to the prom, Rukia?" he asked, flinging himself down in the ancient, creaky recliner. "I would have thought you were too cool for that."

Two pink spots appeared on Rukia's cheeks. "Yeah, I'm going, I guess."

"You are not going to believe this, Izuru!" Rangiku gasped breathlessly. "But our Renji asked her to go with him!"

"Surely not!" Izuru scoffed, a pleasant feeling of satisfaction filling his chest.

"It's just as friends!" Rukia protested. "And of course I don't care about prom, but it means a lot to him, so…" she made a frustrated shrug.

Just.

As.

Friends.

Izuru shot a glare of horrified disbelief at Momo, who shrugged helplessly.

As if on cue, Renji's mop of bright red hair poked around the edge of the Warhammer display. The couch backed to the front of the store, so Izuru could see him, but the girls couldn't. Renji pointed emphatically at Rukia, and then stuck out his tongue victoriously, making a "hang loose" sign with his hand.

"I need to talk to you!" Izuru announced loudly, jumping up, grabbing Renji by front of his shirt, and hauling him into the aisle with all the ceramic dragon figurines. "You moron!" he hissed.

"I just did what you said!" Renji defended, holding up his hands.

"No, you didn't! Did you even give her the note?"

"I did not. I thought about it, and I decided you were right. I talked to her with my actual voice. I told her I really wanted to go to prom with her, and she made a real cute face and then she said yes. Thank you. I couldn't have done it without your help."

Izuru squeezed his eyes shut. "But you're going as friends."

"Yeah, well, we are friends, and I'm okay with that. You know, it was the right move, anyway. The reason I was late is because her brother cornered me after work and lectured me for half an hour."

"Byakuya went into the Foot Locker?" Izuru frowned, trying to picture it.

"Of course not. He would never go into a Foot Locker. He waited outside."

Izuru admittedly hadn't taken Rukia's intense, overprotective brother into account, back when they were writing the note, even though he remembered Renji bringing it up. "Well, I'm glad you're still alive."

"Yeah, me too. I offered to wax his car, just immediately. That knocked him off his game a little." Renji made a thoughtful face. "He, uh… was appreciative, actually. I guess Rukia's been wanting to go to prom and pretending she doesn't, and he thought I picked up on it and asked her because I'm a good friend."

Izuru stared at Renji blankly. "What?"

Renji shook his head. "I can't explain it. Kuchiki brains are weird. Anyway, he said I don't have to wax his car, but he wants me to come over to dinner so he can pre-screen my table manners and I have to meet their scary grandfather." Renji scratched his head. "I wonder if the old man has a car I could wax."

Izuru let out a big sigh. "Well, I'm glad it worked out. Sort of. Even if you wasted a very good love letter that I worked very hard on."

"You spent ten minutes on it, tops, and it did not go to waste."

Izuru frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't you feel like… like it helps to talk that stuff out? To put your feelings into words and write them down and look at them? I mean, I know it helped me, I was just thinking that maybe…"

"Give it up, Abarai," Izuru mumbled. Whenever anything remotely good happened to Renji, he got really optimistic that all his friends could repeat his successes. When Izuru was in the right mood, it struck him as sort of sweet, but right now, it was just irritating.

Renji stuffed his hands in his pockets and huffed. "Look. Talking to Rukia was… it was easier than I thought. T'be honest, I pretty much expected her to turn me down cold." He gave a wistful little smile. "We'll just see how it goes, y'know? Might even be able to work up the nerve to ask her for a slow dance."

Izuru shook his head. "You're hopeless, Abarai."

"Yeah, well, takes one to know one."

"We are not the same," Izuru informed him pointedly. "I am a dreamer who pines for that which is out of his reach. You're just a dumbass who can't grab at the thing an inch in front of him."

Renji gave one of his big, open shrugs. "Say what you want about me, but I have grabbed. It's hard to judge distance when you're too close to it. I'm just saying that I don't think your dreamy moon poet is as far off as you think."

"Why do you always listen to me exactly enough to misunderstand everything I say?" Izuru griped.

"I am a dumbass, you had me there." He stood up straighter. "But Rukia is not a dumbass and I would like to go say hello to her before she thinks we're making out back here in the sparkly dragon grotto like Ikkaku and Yumichika."

"I heard that!" Ikkaku's voice echoed through the store.

"Matsumoto is trying to convince her to get a strapless dress," Izuru explained.

"Really? I'm in favor of that," Renji grinned, his eyebrows raising. "She's got the shoulders for it."

"Go," Izuru sighed, slapping his friend on the back.

As Izuru turned to follow Renji to the back sitting area, he saw Shuuhei hovering in the store's main aisle. He was wearing a Tool t-shirt over a ratty grey henley with the elbows blown out. His hair looked like he put a bunch of gel in it and then immediately gone to a gymnastics class. There was a '69' sharpied on his cheek. As usually, Izuru couldn't believe how cool the guy was.

"Uh, hey, Izuru," Shuuhei said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Hey," Izuru replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Wondered if you were in today."

Usually, Shuuhei would reply with some joke about his loud co-worker, Mashiro, but instead, his fingers curled and uncurled around a piece of paper he was holding.

Hmm, Izuru thought absently. Shuuhei must use the same kind of notebook that I do.

Shuuhei's eyes darted to the side, and then back to Izuru. "Hey, um, someone slipped a note in my locker today, but they didn't sign it. I don't, uh, want to be forward or anything, but I think… this might be your handwriting?"

The floor dropped away from Izuru's feet. He was had been transported to the Elemental Plane of Mortification. His corporeal body had ceased to exist.

Suddenly, behind Shuuhei's back, Renji and Momo appeared in the doorway to the back room, flashing huge grins and four enthusiastic thumbs up.

Izuru was going to kill them.