I don't own Bleach.
Written for 3measures challenge. WTF, Kira/Momo/Ikkaku! I swear, it's seireitaihs's fault.
LAYERS
the sphinx riddle
Momo felt that sometimes when they spoke she was actually conversing with a sphinx—large, powerful and . . . unconditional. Like he was completely steady and wouldn't ever cave. It was very comforting, to have that kind of firmness by her side. It even translated into his actions, his large hands in her hair, on her stomach, holding her steady.
Kira would usually remain on the outside of these conversations, his eyes carefully watching the two of them, as if trying to puzzle out the riddle himself. Occasionally Ikkaku would turn to him and shoot him a grin, something between a leer and kind smile. It would make Kira flush, and look away, and he'd hear Ikkaku laugh, but not too cruelly. Ikkaku was ever-changing; at times soft, playful, all licks and gentle touches, at others hard and vicious and biting. Kira didn't realize that it mattered little what he changed to, since the feeling behind it never did.
Ikkaku knew there wasn't a riddle at all, much less that of a sphinx. Sphinxes told riddles for greed, for hunger, and they weren't noble creatures. It was a bit of an insult, really. Not that he thought he was particularly noble, but he wasn't hungry for lost travelers either.
He wasn't mysterious. The trouble was that people had a hard time believing that there wasn't more to him than he showed. Everyone seemed to have layer upon layer, each one falser than the last, and the fact he refused to have layers, well . . . that confused people.
These layers kept out the cold. Maybe Ikkaku liked the cold.
These layers kept in the warmth. Maybe Ikkaku liked to steal his warmth from Kira and Momo.
With his bare hands, he'd strip them of their layers, and they'd find they didn't need them.