For all the Ikkaku/Nemu fans out there. Who I am completely shocked even exist o.O;;

Come What May
Daily Reprieve

Days like this Nemu had almost convinced herself that she'd run into Madarame by coincidence. And that she had brought enough lunch to share with him for the same reason. It had, she reasoned, nothing to do with the fact that he had lost another bet to someone about something or other and thus forfeited his money and went hungry throughout class.

When she'd offer some of her own lunch to him (never anything extravagant, or all that tasty, really) his entire face would brighten up and he'd look as if he was going to hug her and Nemu would turn her head slightly away and tell herself that her face was warm because the sun was bright that day.

Madarame sighed happily, munching on his half of an odango (she only had one and he outright refused to take it all). "You're such a wonderful person, Kurotsuchi. If it weren't for you, I'd starve!"

She lowered her eyes and smiled happily. "It's fine."

Swallowing the last of it, he told her, "No, really. I really appreciate this. Always sharin' your lunch with me, I'm gonna pay you back." He brightened at the idea. "Hey, yeah! Next chance I get, I'm gonna buy YOU lunch, how's that? Whatever you want."

Nemu was shocked. "No, that's okay. You don't need to do that."

"I insist!" He said importantly. "And it's rude to turn down an invitation like that!"

"I'm… sorry."

His posing fell. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that, you know. I'm only foolin'."

"No, it's not that." She sighed somewhat heavily. "Mayuri-sama…"

"Who?"

"My father."

Madarame wrinkled his nose. "That creepy guy? What about him?"

Her mind roared with the sound of his screeching and the sting of his blows against her face. "Mayuri-sama isn't… happy. That we're… close."

There was silence for a few seconds. "Wait." Madarame braced his hands against his knees. "He doesn't like that we're friends? Come on! You're old enough to make your own choices!" Snorting, he scowled at nothing. The scowl eventually faded and he made a face dangerously close to a pout. "So, uh, what'd he say about me?"

Nemu's brow furrowed in thought. "He said that you were rude and ill-mannered and at the rate you were going, you wouldn't amount to anything worth bothering about."

He scowled again, defiantly. "Yeah, well," he proclaimed loudly, "if I listened to every snub-nosed bastard like him, I woulda been dead long ago!"

Silence reigned on again and, catching quick glances at her bowed head time and again, Madarame was beginning to think he got her upset again.

"Madarame." Nemu said finally. "Do you listen to anyone?"

"Hm? Ah…" he jutted out his lower jaw, thinking. "Well, I dunno, really. I mean, I don't listen to just ANY one, but… I guess if they prove themselves to be a good leader I'd listen to them."

"A good leader."

"Yeah, like…" and here his grin grew and his expression became animated again, "like one of those great generals from the stories. The kind that you WANT to throw your life away for. Because they make you feel like you could take on anything and nothing matters except fighting and winning and having them disappointed in you is like the world ending." Madarame's fists clenched and his lips curled in anticipation. "THAT'S the kinda guy I'd listen to."

Nemu lowered her eyes. "Is… fighting all that you care about?"

"Well, not really. I mean, che, I LIKE fighting. I'm good at it! I don't really care about Demon Arts or nothin' so I'm really bad at it. But I've been fightin' my whole life. It's like it's part of who I am." He fumbled for words, "…You know?"

She looked at him blankly.

"Okay, guess not. Um, well, I like drinkin' and gamblin'. Can't go wrong with those." That blank look failed to abate in the slightest. "Alright, so maybe if you're not careful, you can." He flopped onto the grass, cushioning his head. "Che, I like a lot of things, really. Fightin's just somethin' that sorta happens."

"It seems to happen to you more than anyone else."

He grinned cheekily. "Some of us were born to fight, I guess. What about you? What do you care about?"

Nemu's eyes widened. "…I care about Mayuri-sama."

"Anything else?"

She frowned slightly, trying to come up with answers to a question she never before considered. "I care about doing a good job. About not disappointing Mayuri-sama."

Madarame propped himself on his elbows and looked unhappy with her train of thought. "Yeah, okay. But what do you like to do? For yourself?"

Folding her hands in her lap, Nemu lowered her head and admitted quietly, "I… don't really have anything I enjoy."

Silence crawled between them and Nemu couldn't help but feel that she had done something wrong. Eventually, Madarame sat up and held out a hand. She looked at it blankly.

He motioned with his outstretched hand. "Gimme your hand." More curious than wary, she slowly placed her hand in his. It was thin and pale, like a doll's hand inside his wide grip. "You know you can tell a lot about a person by their hands." Madarame examined hers like he'd never seen on before, pinching the knuckles and moving each finger. "We use our hands for damn near everything and they grow into what we subconsciously want them to do. It's like they're a personality all their own.

"Mine, for instance, are callused, the tendons are strong and the knuckles are large. Shows that I fight a lot. Matsumoto's are thin like yours, but her fingers are long and either dry or a little dirty. That's 'cause she likes to be outside a lot, working with stuff. And if you look at Iemura's hands, his're always stained with ink. He likes to read and write, that's why he does so well on tests. But they're also stiff because he likes to pose like a tool."

"You seem to know about hands fairly well."

Madarame looked up at her with a sharp grin. "They're interesting. Everyone's hands are different. Some people's hands don't seem to match their personalities, either. But when you understand them, then you'll always see a connection. It's like a science." His attention turned back to her hand and his grin fell without him noticing. He made an odd noise in the back of his throat.

"What?" Nemu asked despite herself.

"Never seen hands like yours before." He lifted her hand and turned it, changing the angle the light fell on it. "Very soft. Don't do a lot, do ya?" He asked, not unkindly. "Your fingers are very tapered and they got a good range of motion. My guess is you'd be good at making things. You ever try origami before?"

Nemu watched Madarame turn her hand over, tracing and pushing lightly at her palm with a thick thumb. "A little." She told him, her fingers curling instinctively against the pressure and their tips brushed across his knuckle. "Mayuri-sama didn't see a need in the talent and told me to stop."

"Did you like it, do you remember?"

His fingers were bending hers again, barely touching and surprisingly gentle. It reminded her of folding small sheaves of paper, watching as little objects came to being under her touch.

"Maybe you could get into the 4th division. Or maybe the 12th. Your dad's vice-captain of that division, right? Maybe you could get in there and make stuff."

Nemu smiled slightly. "Make stuff?"

"You know." Madarame made a face. "Whatever it is they do. You should try making stuff again, it'd probably do you some good."

Her smile grew and he chuckled. Madarame was… strange. He seemed to be a very rough-edged and careless. However, being so close to him, Madarame could be insightful, caring and- with his lip curling sharply like that –not unpleasant to look at. Flushing at the boldness of her own thoughts, Nemu's attention was turned back to her hand. Which Madarame was absent mindedly softly rubbing.

Reluctantly she pulled it away. "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"You're always so loud and animated and…" it took a slight inner struggle to get the next word out, "strange."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Pressing her lips together, Nemu admitted, "No, I guess not. You seem to be happy with yourself."

Madarame grinned. "Hell yeah, I am! See, the secret to life, I figure is this." He leaned in conspiratorially. "When faced with a decision ya got two choices: do it, or don't do it. I think it'd be pretty crappy to live your life regretting something you didn't do. In fact," he proclaimed loudly, leaning back again, "I believe it so much I make sure all of my friends live a regret-free life. And right now, YOU are a piece of work."

Nemu looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're so wound up in what other people tell you and being so proper, honestly, you look a little miserable. People can see that look on you and know that you'd do what you're told so they'll walk all over you." Madarame jerked a thumb toward his chest. "That's what I'm here for."

"To protect me?"

He scratched his head. "Not so much 'protect'. I'm probably not gonna be around you all the time, so you need to learn to take care of yourself. Think of me more like a, uh, a guidance councilor that kicks ass." He concluded with a wide grin.

Nemu had long gotten over hiding her laughter.