I have returned! From the dead! With fanfiction!
And why? Because my friend Aceidia has been bugging me nonstop about updating.
So, after being superglued to my chair, I finally typed this up!
Disclaimer: I am the real Tite Kubo. That guy who makes the 'canon' plot for Bleach is an imposter.
Mayuri stood, shock still, the words he had just spoken echoing in his mind. I….I am sorry. Nemu froze too; her shoulders went from trembling to unmoving. She lifted her head and looked at him, tears still in her eyes.
"M-mayuri-tou…?" she asked tentatively.
Mayuri twitched slightly, still not used to her calling him 'father.' He had to mentally stop himself from reaching out and hitting her right there.
On the ground, Uryu, doused in red, coughed feebly. "Why should…why should she believe you?"
Mayuri, once again, had to mentally stop himself from stomping on the Quincy, to hear the satisfying crunch of bones breaking. But he did have a point, Mayuri grudgingly admitted. None of his previous actions gave any reason for his daughter to believe his apology.
But maybe….just maybe…things would have turned out differently if he himself had been treated differently.
"Move it, Kurotsuchi!"
Mayuri was shoved to the side by a small group of Squad Eleven members. He caught himself just in time so he didn't fall face first into the wall.
"Vermin!" he called after them. He patted himself down, making sure nothing had some undone – no, both his zanpakto and his medical backpack were still firmly in place. Mayuri sighed. He enjoyed working in Squad Four, he really did – no, that was a lie. He enjoyed operating on patients, especially surgically, but that was it. He despised all other aspects of the Squad Four lifestyle, from the stereotypes to the fact that all the other Squads looked down on them, despite having one of the most powerful captains.
And, of course, there was the issue with his appearance. After being attacked by a drunk member of Squad Three while still in the academy, he was left with a long scar running from his right eye to the corner of his mouth. Others might have flaunted their injuries, but Mayuri had too much pride. No one could know that someone had gotten the better of him. Instead, he chose to wear large amounts of white paste, covering his face, neck, hands – anywhere where skin was showing. And even after the scar had healed and was nearly invisible, Mayuri chose to continue to wear the paste. Old habits die hard, as they say. But this old habit had done nothing for his reputation as a laughing stock.
In response, the Soul Reaper worked twice as hard as any to hear the name of his zanpakto. Every night he would sit with his sword and plead with it. Every time he had to draw it he mentally begged it to share its name. The most he had gotten in response, however, as a high-pitched warble and what sounded like a baby crying.
This was not looking good, in Mayuri's opinion.
Nor were things looking any better. The Squad Eleven members' had caught his comment about them.
"Vermin, are we, Kurotsuchi?" one of the uglier ones sneered.
"Stupid, thick, ugly, dense VERMIN!" he seethed. "You would be RATS but they have higher brain frequencies than you do!"
The group looked between one another. One particularly hostile looking blonde woman cracked her knuckles.
"You wanna say that again, you little bastard?" she breathed.
Mayuri stood his ground, anger rippling off of him in waves. "Disgusting trash, devoid of any intelligence that might have even dared to approach your dry and lifeless –"
He didn't finish his sentence, as he was punched in the face by three different people.
What happened next was probably the most pitiful event in Mayuri's existence. It wasn't that he wasn't strong. It was simply that he could be accurately compared to a twig. Even if he had been less twig-like, it would have been most difficult to defend himself against a vicious gang of pure brawn.
Mayuri heard a bone crack in his left arm, his humerus if he wasn't mistaken. It didn't matter much. He was right-handed anyway. At some level he recognized the pain, but at another level he was floating above it all, idly watching himself getting beaten up.
There was that strange noise again. Like blowing high pitched bubbles, almost.
~*shi**** *izo~
~Ashis*gi *izo~
~Ashisogi Jizo~
"Rip, Ashisogi Jizo."
An explosion of light caused the Squad Eleven members to go flying in all directions. In the center stood Mayuri, clutching his sword with a sick grin on his face. Instead of the standard zanpakto shape it had preferred for so long, it was a bronze three-pronged trident, with the face of a baby near the handle. Purple mist had started seeping out of it, but that was slowly dissipating.
"Y-you can't use your sword! We'll report you!" a fearful voice cried.
"Oh, I don't doubt that," Mayuri leered. "But for now, a bit of FUN."
"The reason," Mayuri Kurotsuchi said slowly. "That Nemu should believe me is simple. Though I am…..morally challenged, one might say, I am a scientist and only….noly state the facts. I do not lie when there is truth to be told."
Uryu made a wheezing sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort.
"And that is why," the captain continued. "When I apologize, Nemu should believe that I am truly…." He paused. The words still tasted sour. "Truly sorry."
Nemu mumbled something.
"What?" Mayuri snapped.
"I said, Mayuri-tou," she said louder. "That I forgive you. I could never hate you, no matter how much others or even myself wanted to."
Mayuri blinked. What was this feeling? This warmth?
"Curious," he muttered.
Uryu wheezed. "Do we have your blessing, then?" he coughed sarcastically.
"Yes," Captain Kurotsuchi said slowly. "You do. I mean –" He looked around at the gaping faces staring at him. "For research purposes. And only for research purposes! This feeling…..I believe that it shall continue if you two are together." He continued, despite the obvious confusion passing over everyone's faces. "And a Soul Reaper – Quincy child….what a phenomenon…and only the second of its kind…."
"You are not going to be dissecting my child!" Nemu and Uryu shouted in unison.
"Perhaps not dissecting, but just…" Mayuri trailed off.
"Watching," Nemu said firmly. "Watching. Babysitting. And not unless I say you can."
Mayuri didn't bother to argue. This feeling, this warmth; it spread all over his body. He must find the source of this.
Done! There shall be an epilogue, taking place about 3 years later. With Nemu and Uryu's kid. And that is your promise for the next chapter! :D
Reviews make that authoress happy…..VERY happy!