Obligatory A/N: Surprise! I actually finished something, for once. I thought for sure I was going to update this late and piss off some people, so I wrote this to be an apology. But then I kicked myself in the pants and got it done, so…I apologize in advance for the next time, I suppose!
Oh, and I completely forgot to mention this, but this actually started out as a birthday fic for Ikimono. Happy…really belated birthday, Ikimono! Everybody cheer with me! Rah!
Now go enjoy your yaoi fanfiction, you pervs!
Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I also don't own Sailor Moon, so it's all good.
Obligatory Warnings: yaoi (duh), angstly-ness, comic relief, bath scene. You get it all.
Non-obligatory P.S. A/N: Oh, there wasn't any need for the violence I thought there was going to be, but I'm going to up the rating now anyways to discourage people from getting hooked and then having the rating go up.
EDIT 7-28-09: Wow, I'm slow on the uptake. Fixed the lack of page breaks (Where did they go???) and minor grammatical errors.
The leather burned my human flesh and choked me when Byakuya, my master, dragged me from the cell. He had me on a very short chain, which he had handed to another of his slaves.
I didn't know this human; I'd only seen him in the upstairs servants' quarters twice before. I wasn't allowed up there yet, because I, like Ichigo and Grimmjow, was a newer, unbroken slave.
He was shrimpy, but fiery like Grimmjow. He was apparently quite bossy as well, because he didn't spare me any pain as he dragged me along.
I would have yelled at his short, white-headed self, but Byakuya was leading him and me through a labyrinth of stairs and landings. I was paying close attention, just in case I needed to find my own way back.
We finally left those stairs, bruising stumbling-blocks that had left my shins rug-burned and sore, and trailed down a hallway.
He wrenched the chain forward, harshly tugging me into a lavish bedroom.
The carpeting was the same lush red material found throughout much of his house. It matched my hair and my fur, and I started to wonder if that was a coincidence.
A huge bronze sculpture of a blossoming cherry tree started in the far corner of the room and branched out over the king-sized bed like a canopy. Real sakura petals were scattered on the white silken sheets and artfully across the floor, single petals laid down in perfect swirls and confetti sprays.
The room was heavy with their sweetness and a tangy incense of oranges. The scented wood was burning in an ornate glass jar atop the cherry dresser, which also held a few white candles.
Then it hit me. This must be his bedroom.
My heart momentarily stopped, then started pounding all the faster.
This is where the godly vampire slept at night! This was where he bathed and changed! This was his scent; this was his paradise. I reveled in wonder at the beauty all around me, concentrated in the man who was currently the source of the pain in my neck. We were in his bedroom! My mind could barely contain that thought.
"Hitsugaya," Byakuya addressed the icy midget, "the dog needs a bath. Have his cellmate attend to him."
Hitsugaya nodded and shoved me into the bathroom. "I'll be back with your friend." He leaned in as close as he dared to, then gave a whispered, "Sorry."
I nodded; it's not as if I was going to stay mad at the pipsqueak after he apologized! He didn't seem like a bad kid. Maybe his cold arrogance was a mask he hid his fear behind? I pitied him.
I drew the bath water, watching the porcelain tub fill with hot water from a miniature, tap-driven waterfall. A handful of sakura petals drifted lazily across the steaming surface, occasionally clinging to each other the way Grimmjow and Ichigo did. Would Byakuya ever hold me like that? Maybe if I tried harder, I told myself. Nothing could make me give up on my dreams. Without them, I was nothing.
I tossed my clothes to the floor, and let my red ponytail loose. The vanity beside the tub had a selection of bath oils and soaps lined up in tiny, multicolored crystal bottles, all glittering in the sunlight twisting through the blinds. The spots of sunshine danced on the polished marble countertop as the wind disturbed the cherry trees outside. After I had picked a shampoo, conditioner, body soap, and bath oil I could freshen up with, I turned to find the tub filled to a satisfactory level.
I twisted the silver knob, turning the tap off again, and crawled into the near-scalding water. It felt good to surrender to the heat, sinking down until only my nose and a patch of my forehead were the only things still above the surface.
I resurfaced when my skin had become the same color as my hair, and grabbed the purple shampoo bottle. The lather felt wonderful as I worked it into my sore scalp and dirty hair. I rinsed the suds out of the red locks, massaging out the kinks and used shampoo. I finished wiping away the bubbles sticking to my forehead and reached for the body soap.
After a moment of fishing around in the drawers of the vanity, I finally managed to hook and reel in a sponge. I popped the glass stopper from the clear bottle and shook it over the little dead sea creature. The greenish goop that oozed from the container smelled fresh, like evergreens and mint. It was cooling to the touch, and the sponge was just rough enough to scrape off the grime from the cell.
I lathered my torso, the tiny foam bubbles clinging to my shoulders and drifting down into the bath water. I splashed the soap across my collarbone, dipping beneath the water to scrub my washboard abs.
What? I was proud of how I looked, tough and toned and tattooed.
I continued scrubbing myself down, letting the sponge rub my flesh pleasantly raw. I was clean for the first time since I'd been brought here, and it felt bloody great.
I stepped out of the tub and wrapped a white towel around my waist. It was soft and fluffy, and white as freshly fallen snow.
Just as I had stepped in front of the vanity mirror to examine my bruises, the door was opened.
My favorite berry-head was pushed through the doorway, and an emotionless Byakuya examined my state of cleanliness.
"You can't possibly wash your own fur, so the human will do it for you. Don't get my floor filthy, dog." And the door was closed again.
There was a short moment of awkward silence.
"Wait, what am I doing?" Ichigo asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm getting washed up, and I can't do that myself. No opposable thumbs," I explained, wiggling the appendages in question.
"I guess you have a point, Pineapple. Now c'mon, let's get this over with. Sailor Moon Werewolf transformation sequence go." Strawberry scowled so hard it looked like he was actually trying to break his own face.
"All right, all right," I chuckled. "Don't get your panties in a twist. Now turn around, it's about to get awkward in here." I turned my back to him, ready to drop the towel.
Ichigo shielded his eyes, mostly for my sake. "It's not like I've never seen a naked man before," he (unfortunately) reminded me.
There was a crunch as my skeletal system reformed itself, and then my wolf form climbed into the tub.
It was a lot bigger when I didn't weigh nearly three-hundred pounds of deadly hunter. I submerged myself as much as I could, sloshing hot water and bright red hairs onto the bathroom floor.
When I stood back up, waiting to get washed up and resisting the urge to shake the water out, I noticed how my fur had absorbed nearly half of the water. Comical, yes, but kinda hefty, too.
Ichigo was a good sport about the whole fiasco, securing an economy-sized bottle of shampoo from behind the rest of the concoctions on the vanity. He poured this new chemical-smelling gel all over my neck and back as I obediently stood still.
His hands felt nice in my matted fur as he rubbed at the soap. I gave him a lupine grin, let my tongue dangle comically from my mouth, and half-heartedly wagged my waterlogged tail.
"Renji, you look like a complete goofball," Ichigo grinned. "Now shake, so I can get your paws soaped up."
I rolled my huge grey eyes up at him, and slapped a huge paw on the edge of the tub. He scrubbed it down, rinsed and repeated.
"Now turn around, let's get your tail. I bet it'll turn into a big puffball after we blow dry it."
I spun around, making sure to slosh more water on him.
It took about a half an hour to get me completely soaped up and washed off again, and a lot of contortions on my part to stay in the tub. Washing a wolf whose ears go just past Ichigo's shoulder is a lot different than washing a puppy or even a person.
It took twice as long to dry me off with the stupid little human contraption Ichigo was blowing hot air on me with. I couldn't figure out why the whole bathroom was stuffy if I was still damp.
That's when Ichigo found the infernal brush. Honestly, I thought he was going to skin me the way he wrenched it through my thick, shiny coat. He went after all of my tangles and clumps of fur with the ripping strength of an infuriated Grimmjow after one too many jabs of "Grimm-kitty." Believe me, big bad clawed panther Grimmjow in a fit of explosive, adrenaline-charged anger had never hurt me as much as this little human with his little bristly slab of wood. I was whimpering by the time he ran out of things to brush. He had extracted enough extraneous fur to make it look as though I had somehow asexually produced a litter of Renji-colored werewolf pups.
Nice image, I know.
Ichigo turned the wind-gun on me again, and I finally dried off completely. He wasn't satisfied with his work until he had run that brush from the top of my head to the tip of my tail. It didn't catch on any new, wind-blown snarls, so he motioned to the mirror with a mocking bow.
"I gotta say, Renji, you look much better now. I mean, you're still you, so you can only go so far, but..." he teased.
I managed to position myself so I could see most of my lycan body in the mirror, and I was shocked.
My fur was softer and shinier than it had ever been before in my life, and even though I might be a little biased, I thought it looked beautiful.
"Apparently, I can do pretty good work. Your fur looks beautiful now," Ichigo commented.
I wasn't the only one, then. Bonus points for the kid.
I picked up the towel I had dropped on the vanity in my teeth, trying to warn Ichigo. Sure enough, he rolled his eyes before shielding them.
I threw myself out of my four-footed form, sleekly shifting from beast to man. I threw the damp towel around my waist, and hopped on one foot out of the puddle I had drenched the floor with.
I seem to faintly remember Byakuya saying something about not doing that...
Crap.
"Uhh, Ichigo, do you know where any mops are? There's a lot of water on this floor. And am I supposed to put these dirty clothes back on now?" That would defeat the purpose entirely.
Hitsugaya bustled in, carrying a stack of neatly folded new clothes and--I wanted to hug him--a mop. My guess? He'd been eavesdropping the whole time just to find out when it was safe to come back in with the clothes and a will to clean. He was a smart one, that ice queen.
He handed Ichigo the mop and plopped the clothes on the vanity.
"Thanks, kid." I patted him on the head, in lieu of hugging.
I found out very quickly not to repeat this action.
"I'm not a kid," he growled. He wore Ichigo's trademark scowl as he pulled the drain plug from the tub and shot me a glare.
"Ooookay then," Ichigo responded. He looked a little intimidated. Note to self: mercilessly tease Ichigo later about being afraid of the midget when the midget is no longer around. P.S., I am also afraid of the midget.
I pulled on the clean boxers Hitsugaya had brought in, then the crisp tan pants. The shirt was red, complimenting the color of my hair once again (I was starting to think Byakuya liked red). A smart black jacket completed whatever look I was going for. "Serious business slave," perhaps? Or maybe
"Punch me, I can't decide whether or not I'm trying to be a nerd." It was attractive, but not in any specific way.
I internally shrugged, past caring. They were clothes, and they were clean.
Ichigo continued mopping up the water, and Hitsugaya was collecting all the bottles I had emptied on me. I felt lazy, so I sopped up some of the water with my old towel.
Within minutes, the bathroom looked as though my bath had never happened...with the exception, of course, of the loss of a few bottles and the addition of a soaking towel with a few clinging red hairs. Hey, nobody's perfect. Even if Byakuya is scarily close.
Hitsugaya had found me a pair of socks and nice shoes, making me look even less like myself than before. He had then escorted me to the front hallway where I was ordered to wait for Byakuya, and presumably escorted Ichigo back to our cell.
The minutes dragged on as I waited for the beautiful vampire to appear. I had memorized the swirls on the door and the pattern on the (unsurprisingly red) carpet. I had endlessly traced the seams on the cream couch beside me, scuffed the bottoms of my shoes on the floor, and even tried the nonsensical human pastime of thumb-twiddling. It turns out I'm not very good at it. Are my thumbs supposed to hit, or are they supposed to look like a waterwheel? I was confused by this craziness. What was the point, anyways?
I jumped when there was a knock at the door. This, if you ask me, was more human nonsense. A knock is just a noise, how can it be at the door?
With my good slave manners, I carefully opened said door and addressed the man outside.
"Hello, may I ask what business you have with my master?" I bowed, just in case he was a visiting aristocrat. Not that he looked like one, mind you. He had the strangest yellow eyes and navy blue hair. It had to be natural, because his sparse stubble was the same color. He was dressed all in black, and his fingernails were painted black as well. One was especially long, looking like a dagger or a poison-tipped needle. I tried not to stare at it.
"Ahh, Kurotsuchi. Thank you for coming with such short notice, my apologies," Byakuya's voice came from behind me.
The hair on the nape of my neck stood up. Kurotsuchi? The mad scientist, Mayuri Kurotsuchi? What could Byakuya possibly want to do with him?
"This is the one, then?" Kurotsuchi brushed past me. I closed the door, confused.
"Yes," Byakuya nodded. The mad scientist stared at me, studying my blank face and non-committal pose. What on Earth were they talking about?!
"He looks strong enough," Kurotsuchi commented in his creepy voice.
"Strong, and unintelligent enough where he won't question your orders. He's fiery, so you might want to break him a few times before you put him to work. If he turns out to be useless, dissect him. It doesn't bother me."
The words skipped around in my stunned brain, refusing to sit still long enough for me to understand them. Byakuya said I was...what?
"Werewolves are getting rare these days, and I assure you, he'll be perfect for the job. I will sell him to you for three thousand pieces of gold, and a small bag of cut rubies."
"You're a madman, Byakuya! He's not worth half that much!" Kurotsuchi protested loudly.
"Perhaps not, but that is what you will pay nevertheless."
Byakuya was...selling me? For approximately the price of a horse? To the man known for his ruthless ways of science that completely ignored the nobility of all life?
Suddenly, I no longer felt anything at all. I was numb with the pain of knowing that I was worthless to the man I would gladly die for. I wasn't an especially proud man, but this...
"Madman!" Mayuri accused Byakuya again, "I'll have you know Soi Fon is offering me a slave as well, one who might be twice as good as this one. With such an outrageous price on a mutt like that, I think I'll pass and see what quality she breeds. Goodbye, you greedy--" he slammed the door before he could finish his sentence. It was probably not child-friendly.
Byakuya sighed, and grabbed my collar. He was dragging me back to my cage, I vaguely noticed, as I tried to shut everything out. I bonelessly followed his lead, staring at anything other than him. The wall was a good subject, because it was always there.
White, white, off-white, cream, shadowy hallway, white... I focused on nothing else. I didn't feel solid anymore, like I was just floating over the red carpets and stairs.
He had just smashed my dreams, broken them into a million tiny pieces, and he didn't even care?! I was a shadow of myself, barely there, the illusion of what I once was.
He stuffed me back into the cage with the only people in the world who cared if I lived or died, and slammed the bars shut again.
"I'll send someone to collect the clothes in the morning," he impassively stated, then drifted away, like smoke.
I stared at the ground, unmoving, uncaring. Until I noticed the dark spots on the ground where my angry tears had fallen.
"Grimm, something's wrong," Ichigo sounded startled by this revelation.
"I noticed, Berry. I ain't clueless."
"What do we do?"
"Renj," Grimmjow put a hand on my shoulder, "you want me to kill the bastard?" I could just hear the maniacal grin in his voice.
"If he did anything to you, Renji, I'll kill him myself," Ichigo joined in. He walked over to stand beside me, and cupped my chin. I stared even more intently at the ground, ashamed that I was crying over a man I could never have had. I knew that from the beginning, why didn't I just give up from the start?
More hot tears. I was furious with myself. How could I still love him? But I knew I did. I wanted to sleep for a long, long time; then wake up, and find out everything was a dream.
Grimmjow forcibly pulled me into his lap, massaging my back the way he always did when I was hurting. He growled softly, in residual anger. The tears started to flow more freely, and soon, I was hugging Ichigo and abandoning all my useless pride.
Byakuya paced in his moonlit room, the candles flickering gently as his movement disturbed them. The sakura petals had been trampled many times over as the impatient aristocrat cursed under his breath.
"Ya still couldn't get rid of the mutt?" a drawling voice chuckled.
Byakuya paused to face the translucent figure. "You are sure he will take something of mine?"
"Positive, vampire!" the spook positively beamed. "The wolf'll take two things from ya that can never be returned if ya don't get rid of him soon. I've seen it!"
The aristocrat sighed in defeat. "Shirosaki, if you are lying to me, I will find a way to exorcise you from this house. He's going to be a good slave if he's broken in properly. I will not lose him without good cause."
"Then ya risk losing something more important, vampire!" He laughed insanely, and faded into the darkness along with the candlelight.
"Then...I have little choice."
A/N: *gasp!* Whaaaat? Hey, I don't know, ok?
And no, Shiro is not lying.
How did you like it?