Angry at the World

Renji had been following Urahara and Tessai to the fighting pair, but before they’d closed in Ichigo had detached himself crudely from the Espada and stomped away. As soon as Renji saw the look on his friend’s face, he stopped and turned to follow him.

He heard Grimmjow’s laughter and catcalling and grimaced. He didn’t like the bastard being around, but there were some advantages. He would grudgingly admit that the asshole was a good match for Ichigo’s personality; he also seemed to be the vent for most of Ichigo’s frustration lately, he liked to fight, and seemed to be temporarily reducing the number of Hollows that appeared in an area. However, he was minimizing those advantages very, very quickly in Renji’s mind.

“Hey, Ichigo, wait up!” He called. Ichigo didn’t wait up. “Seriously Ichigo!” he said again with a scowl. He increased his pace and followed the strawberry back up into Urahara’s shop. Before he could leave, Renji grabbed his wrist and prepared to lecture him. Instead, he was interrupted by Ichigo’s cry of pain. Renji was stunned and released his grip. His heart squeezed, but his quick action it wasn’t enough to undo the damage. Ichigo fell to his knees, panting and lightly clutching his forearm with his other hand.

“The hell Ichigo?! You were going to leave without getting healed?!” He knelt down next to his redheaded counterpart. He could be so stupid.

“It’s fine,” he muttered breathily, not looking up at Renji. Upon closer inspection, the substitute Shinigami’s forearm had already purpled in bruise, and bent at a strange angle midway down. Renji saw long wounds across the idiot’s chest and there was deep, blossoming red at his side. “Really, Renji,” he began to protest.

“Shut up!” Renji said gruffly, and shrugged off Ichigo’s hakama. It was a mark of how much pain the strawberry must have been in, that he didn’t fight his touch, Renji thought. He pushed the idiot into a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall. “Nice to see you’re letting me help for once,” he said with a scowl. Ichigo gave him a weak smirk. His cheeks were mottled red. “Stay here,” Renji commanded, and ran into Urahara’s supply room. There were crashes and the sounds of shifting boxes before he returned with an armful of bandages and rags.

“…Sorry Renji. I’m just not feeling like myself,” he said when the Shinigami returned. “Grimmjow…”

“He won’t leave you alone?” Renji said angrily while gently wiping blood away from a scratch on his cheek. Ichigo’s eyes fluttered delicately shut, and there was a sharp intake of breath from Renji. He had to be careful in moments like these, when such simple movements from the human were enough to take his breath away. He applied a small bandage to the scratch, and scrubbed at dirt on the strawberry’s face.

“…He confuses me,” Ichigo replied quietly. Renji ran his hands along his muscled shoulders, searching for unseen cuts. He began carefully wrapping bandages around his neck, and criss-crossed them around his shoulders to cover the entirety of his collarbone wound, before moving on to wrap his chest.

“Confuses you?” Renji asked. What could possibly be confusing him?

“I don’t know… how to feel about him,” he said slowly. “One second he’s a crazy bastard, the next it’s like he understands everything about me, and one moment it pisses me off and then sometimes it’s like thank god somebody gets it! I look at him and I don’t hate him, I just see somebody who…I see something…” Renji tightened the bandage around Ichigo’s chest, before slowly raising his gaze to meet the idiot’s. His face was still flushed. Renji carefully masked his expression so as not to show anything, because what was slowly dawning upon him couldn’t possibly be true. His hands were still resting on Ichigo’s chest.

Renji began to redden.

“No, shit, don’t look at me like--”Ichigo began. Renji yanked his hands away and held them up in defense.

“No, seriously, it’s okay with me if you--” Renji started.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a pervert, I--”Ichigo protested.

“I wasn’t trying to feel you up, I swear, I was just surprised that--”

“I didn’t think you were--”

“I just like your chest I’m not gay like yo--”

“Shut the fuck up, I never told anyone that one time you got a boner ‘cause of Byakuya--”

“He looks like a woman half the time so that’s not even--”

“It’s not my fault, it’s not like you never acknowledged that some guys are just better looking--”

“Are you talking about me or Grimmjow--”

“Who said anything about you or Grimmjow!?”

“I knew I was on to something when I saw you staring at that dancer--”

“Shut the hell up!” Ichigo shouted finally. The redheads stared at each other, flushed, embarrassed, and angry. Renji abruptly looked down and began to secure bandages more tightly around the wound in Ichigo’s side. The substitute Shinigami scowled. “Don’t ignore me Ren--”He had punctuated his sentence with a shove from his broken arm, and hissed and cursed in pain once he touched him.

“Just how big of a moron are you!?” Renji asked, sitting back on his heels to look at Ichigo, who looked away while cradling his arm. “…Just what does this mean, then?” Renji asked more quietly, carefully taking the broken arm from Ichigo’s grasp to wrap and splint it. “Do you…”

“Like Grimmjow?” He responded bitterly. “I…don’t know. But I…men…yeah,” he finished haltingly. For once, Renji took a deep breath and a moment to think before he replied.

“I don’t… think it’s weird of you, or anything. I’ve been with a guy or two before,” Renji said as if it were nothing particularly strange, and watched to gauge the strawberry’s reaction. The sudden snap to attention and flicker of hope in Ichigo’s eyes did wonders to warm the tattooed man’s soul. “They weren’t really anything serious, but, yeah.”

“I never woulda guessed.”

“I’d rather people didn’t guess, actually,” Renji said flatly.

~

This was a disaster and a miracle all at once. He had let one too many details slip and idiot Renji had found out his secret. It could have ruined his life. But to find that he’d been with a man before? Vindication. There was hope now that he wouldn’t be ostracized by one of his closest friends among the Shinigami, that his glances and occasional desires weren’t going to make him hated.

“I never uh, y’know, about you, uh…Never did anything…” Ichigo said awkwardly, and not entirely truthfully. But he would rather reassure the Shinigami, and if push came to shove, would rather die before telling him he’d ever, ever fantasized about him. Renji matched the red shade of his hair rather quickly.

~

“Oh, uh, me either, over you, just so you know,” Renji replied just as awkwardly as Ichigo, and not truthfully at all. The fact was the strawberry had caught his attention at their very first meeting, and he had yet to do anything to diminish his fascination in any meeting since then. The two stayed uncomfortably silent for a moment longer before Renji wrapped another cut on Ichigo’s arm. “…I need to know. I need to know how you can even… consider Grimmjow. Is it just… the way he looks?” He thought he could pardon the poor kid’s confusion if it were only on attractiveness. The Arrancar had rough, dangerous good looks that even he could grudgingly acknowledge. He couldn’t blame a hormone driven, sexuality questioning teen for being lured in. It was much, much easier to accept his attraction if he labeled Ichigo that way.

“…You aren’t around, a lot of the time. So you don’t…see how he is,” he replied. This time, Ichigo didn’t look away with embarrassment or uncertainty. “You think I don’t know how fucked up it is? It makes me feel goddamn disgusting when I realize that I just admired his face or his legs, laughed at one of his jokes, treated him like a motherfucking human being. But… that’s what’s so goddamn confusin’ Renji! He’s fucking sorry! He’s sorry!” He reached out to grip Renji’s shoulder with his good hand. “He’s sorry and he swears, with all goddamn seriousness, that he will never let anyone else hurt me. That he’d die for me!” Renji grimaced. He felt as though his heart had been put in vice; how could someone like Ichigo ever even think about the life of someone like Grimmjow? He always had to be such a stupid good person underneath the stupid tough act. Ichigo trembled.

“That doesn’t make him trustworthy,” Renji made himself reply.

“My…my feelins aren’t thinkin’ about who’s trustworthy!” Ichigo’s grip tightened. Had he ever seen the boy so distressed? Why? Why couldn’t you see the sane person who cares for you right here? “I don’t need this! I don’t want to feel like this!”

Renji couldn’t think of what to say, and he knew if he said anything about the pity that stabbed at him, Ichigo would only become angrier. When he said nothing, the orange-haired teen let his hand drop and his frustrated gaze shifted to the floor. Stupid, stupid kid. I wanna think about something other than you, you dumb bastard. The heavily tattooed Shinigami grabbed Ichigo’s shoulder and roughly pulled him into his arms. Renji was surprised when he didn’t struggle or pull away; he stayed close against his chest, an unexpected ball of warmth he didn’t want to let go.

“…Sorry, Renji…”

“You always forget it’s okay t’need people, Ichigo.”

“…Feels wrong every time I do...”

“…Maybe someday you’ll find somebody who makes it feel right.”

~

Ichigo stood outside Inoue Orihime’s apartment, poised to knock. The muffled yells from within made him pause, but if he wanted to use his arm he would have to grin and bear it. He knocked loudly on the door with his left hand.

“Rangiku-san, wait!” He heard Inoue cry from behind the door. The door flung open, and Matsumoto stood in front of him, clad in pants and bra. Ichigo blushed lightly and looked away, an annoyed look on his face.

“Oh don’t be silly hun, it’s just Ichigo-kun!” Matsumoto grabbed him into a hug, smothering him between her breasts. The redhead flailed and tried to escape, to no avail.

“Kurosaki-kun!” Inoue squeaked. Matsumoto finally released him.

“How are you, Ichigo?” She asked, hands on her hips. Ichigo gasped for air and glared at her, before looking away again.

“Will you put a shirt on!?”He asked with irritation.

“Huh?” Matsumoto looked down. “Oh, yes, sorry,” she said, not sounding very sorry. “I was trying on some of Orihime-chan’s clothes and you showed up in between blouses, you lucky dog,” she said with a smile, and left to go get a shirt. Ichigo shifted uncomfortably before turning to Inoue.

“Yo, Inoue,” he said. She blushed and waved.

“Sorry about that Kurosaki-kun. Things have been so hectic since Rangiku-san and Toshiro-kun have moved in,” she apologized. He looked at the gigantic, fleshy screen that had been set up in Orihime’s living room and the reports scattered across her furniture, and thought that maybe she was the queen of understatements.

“You can’t stop Matsumoto from being herself,” Hitsugaya said without looking up from his reading. He sat in front of a table with paperwork in his lap and a cup of tea.

“Oh, hey Shiro,” Ichigo said casually.

“Hitsugaya-taichou,” the captain corrected almost instantly, still not looking up.

“How’ve things been for you in the human world?” The captain looked up at the redhead briefly, appearing somewhat surprised by his interest. He paused and tapped his pencil before answering.

“Busy. I keep detailed records on spiritual occurrences in Karakura and stay in contact with the investigation in Seireitei. …As far as the human experience goes, your classmates have made it difficult to blend in,” he mentioned crossly. Ichigo coughed to stop his developing smirk.

“The girls in my class are suckers for…” He searched for the right word.

“I would ask that you don’t finish that sentence Kurosaki,” Hitsugaya suggested calmly.

“Suckers for cute little boys,” Kurosaki said with vindictive humor. The white-haired Shinigami’s eyes flashed. Inoue noticed the rising tension and bit her thumb. Then she knelt next to Hitsugaya with a sudden thump.

“Eh heh heh! I never noticed what beautiful handwriting you have, Toshiro-kun!” She said with a blinding smile. “Mine is nice and loopy but not so neat and fine! Heh…heh…” Her smile dropped a little, knowing her attempt to distract the angry youth was painfully transparent. Toshiro shook his head, his version of tacit acceptance, and turned his attention back to his work. Leave it to Inoue to break the attention in an absurd way, Ichigo thought. Sometimes it made him cringe, but beneath the silliness, she seemed to know what she was doing.

“Ah Inoue, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor…” Ichigo said.

“Oh? Anything, Kurosaki-kun,” Orihime replied with a shy smile.

“I was sparring earlier, and things got a little out of hand,” he said, and held up his splinted forearm.

“Oh! Yes, of course Kurosaki-kun! Please, lay down, I’ll heal you right away!” Ichigo gave her a small smile and lay down on his back. Inoue knelt down next to him and touched her barrettes. They flashed and the substitute Shinigami was surrounded by Orihime’s healing barrier.

“Back!” Matsumoto beamed, this time appearing fully dressed in a long-sleeve, albeit low-cut, striped blouse. Toshiro did not blink, and Ichigo did not look. Only Inoue did, but she gave two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Hitsugaya set down his cup of tea to look at Ichigo.

“I assume those injuries are from sparring with the Espada Grimmjow Jeagerjacques?” He asked levelly. The redhead grimaced.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“He’s still around?” Matsumoto asked. For once, she looked almost angry.

“Yes,” Hitsugaya said. “And I still have no idea what I’m supposed to say to General Yamamoto about this. It’s not as though he’s on our side, correct? He is just…”

“He’s following me around like a lost puppy,” the strawberry replied darkly. Sitting beside him, Inoue looked upset, but didn’t say anything.

“Ohhh? How unusual,” Matsumoto commented. The hint of anger had gone from her eyes and been replaced by her usual glint of mischief. “So he really likes you, huh, Kurosaki-kun?” She asked, leaning down over him with a wry smile. Toshiro didn’t give him time to answer.

“Do you know when or if he is returning to Hueco Mundo? When he does, it will serve as an effective warning as to the Arrancar’s impending actions,” the white-haired Shinigami said, and leaned his cheek against his fist thoughtfully. The little captain almost never failed to impress Ichigo with his intelligence and demeanor. He was practically unshakeable. “They have already thrown off the timeline we were working with, so any advance knowledge we can obtain is vital. …And I’d like you to know I disapprove of his presence, Kurosaki,” Hitsugaya added sharply.

“I disapprove too Toshiro--”

“Hitsugaya-taichou.”

“So don’t think I’m encouraging him,” Ichigo finished, with a little annoyance. The Arrancar couldn’t even stay out of his conversations with other people, dammit. Toshiro tapped his finger rhythmically on the table.

“I don’t know if it would be possible for the Arrancar to join us even if he felt so inclined. Aizen could eliminate the traitor instantly or order him to kill us all. Similarly, Soul Society could brand any of us traitors and have us executed. The situation is… complex to say the least,” he finished.

The barrier around Ichigo slowly faded and Inoue stood up.

“All done!” Orhime said with a clap of her hands. “You’re good as new, but, please be more careful Kurosaki-kun. The Arrancar are dangerous, after all,” the girl added. Her brows drew together and her eyes shined with worry. Ichigo stood up and made a fist with his newly healed hand.

“It’s alright, Inoue. If I fight with him, I can become stronger. And I need to become stronger,” he said with determination. Matsumoto’s lips barely curved in a faint smile.

“Well Kurosaki,” Hitsugaya said, “I have no doubts that you will do so. However, there have been several strange new reiatsu presences appearing all over Karakura town. I urge you to be careful.”

“Sure, Toshiro--”

“Hitsugaya-taichou!” He interrupted again with real irritation.

“--Listen, I’ll see you guys later, I need to get back home. Thanks a lot, Inoue,” he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. She flashed him a nervous smile before he left. Poor girl was a walking bundle of nerves, he thought. She needed someone who could help her relax so she wouldn’t be so high-strung all the time; he worried about whether or not she’d be able to hold herself together during the coming conflict.

“Impertinent little…” Toshiro muttered. Matsumoto laughed and kissed him on the forehead, earning a piercing glare, before sitting down to work next to her captain. Inoue simply stood at the window and watched Ichigo leave with longing.

~

Ishida tugged on the bottom of the long, flowing, ruched black gown he’d helped construct for Danna’s performance that night. She was doing a set of three songs, and he’d wanted her outfit to be extra special. She would probably argue that all of the outfits he made for her were special, but he had to admit to himself that this one was really quite nice.

“Uryuu,” she said with her clear voice. “You, uh…forgot the…” Ishida reddened. It had taken a lot of gentle prodding and one minor explosion from Danna to finally get him to measure her breasts for the costumes, and even more cajoling to pin and fit that part while she was wearing them. She said she didn’t mind because this was part of her job, and she trusted him to act professional.

“Ah, sorry, I’ll tighten it for you,” he said, acting as if it were indeed just a job. Ishida was the consummate professional, this was true. But he didn’t know if he could force himself not to enjoy or appreciate tugging and pinning the silky cloth against her bosom. Oh god, his glasses were going to steam if he kept this up. Danna saw the Quincy’s steadily darkening blush and winked at him.

That was one thing he really loved about her.

She wasn’t shy about herself or her sexuality. She wouldn’t let him stay in his comfortable, stoic shell that he so often retreated into. It was easy to be the aloof intellectual; it wasn’t so easy to express himself.

“You know, I wrote one of the ballads I’ll be singing tonight,” she told him in English. He zipped up the back of her dress and took out the last of his pins.

“Really? What’s it about?” He asked in the same language. Usually she wasn’t much good at hiding things from him, nor did she often want to. If she was singing in Japanese, she constantly hounded him for help in pronunciation.

“That’s a secret. But it’s in Japanese!” She said with a smile. He smiled back tentatively. It was still a foreign expression for Ishida, but he was trying. Besides, something like that deserved a smile. She studied so hard to learn the language; he rarely admired anyone’s academic fortitude, but occasionally he found himself sighing that Danna insisted on applying herself to the arts. Wasted talent, he would think.

Then she would sing and dance and most of his objections would disappear. Ishida was not a romantic. He did not lose sight of his goals for love, or stop thinking logically. But he fervently hoped that he would never need to meet a woman better than the one who stood in front of him.

She brushed the long, silky black curls of her wig and began carefully applying bright red lipstick to her puckered lips. That’s when he dropped a bombshell.

“I don’t want to make you nervous, but… Knowing you it will make you perform better,” Ishida said with a smirk, and adjusted his glasses. “There’s a talent scout in the audience tonight, with an entourage.” Danna turned white and her lipstick dropped to the counter. Ishida felt a strange, strange warp in the reiatsu of the room. What were reiatsu vibrations doing here? Since he’d lost his Quincy powers he couldn’t sense as well, but surely…

“Uryuu…” Danna said, and it snapped him out of his thoughtful fog. “I can’t. I…”

“What?” He asked with a frown. “You’ve been working on your singing all this time… How can you spurn an opportunity like this? If you perform like you usually do, he’ll sign you at the drop of a hat,” Ishida said and crossed his arms, as if he were giving a lecture to a recalcitrant child.

“It’s…Not that I don’t want it Uryuu, it’s that I just…can’t right now,” she whispered. What in the world was going on? She always went after what she wanted. She’d gone after him. How could she suddenly be so shy?

“Danna, I’m not going to let you ruin this opportunity,” he said stoically and put one hand on her bare shoulder. It felt cold.

“I… can’t keep singing for much longer,” she said, voice as soft as death. She mechanically reached up and removed her wig.

“Stop trying to scare me, what the hell are you--” He suddenly felt chilled to the bone. A Hollow’s scream, from one nearby. He whipped his head to the direction he’d heard it from; if it were weak enough, perhaps he could come back with enough time to solve this situation. But then the realization gripped him. It was obvious. Danna had looked towards the same direction and clapped her hands together nervously. Of course. Why hadn’t he sensed it earlier? She noticed his stunned gaze and he suddenly felt the spiritual pressure in the room drop precipitously.

How much…How much did she know? How much had she kept from him, or did she not know anything at all? Was it power that had bled off from him, like with Kurosaki? He didn’t have time to figure it out, he realized with a grimace.

“Danna, stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can… There’s…something of an emergency I have to take care of,” he said, putting urgency into his voice. He pushed up his glasses and turned to leave, but Danna grabbed his arm.

“Wait, Uryuu,” she demanded. He turned to look at her, and she leaned in to kiss him softly. It surprised him every time, the jolt of life he felt in her kisses. He rarely dared to initiate them himself; he didn’t feel inferior, he was just forgetful about expressing his emotion. He hoped that he wouldn’t keep letting her down in moments like these. “Good luck, with whatever it is.” The fear was gone from her face.

“…You feel it too, don’t you,” Ishida said, but it wasn’t really a question.

“Something,” she said, and smiled weakly before reaching up to rub her thumb against his lips. “You’ve got some red. Now hurry up and go!” The Quincy smiled grimly at the songstress and nodded before departing.

If the Hollow was as strong as he thought, he was in trouble.



~AN~
Hola! This is part of a three-chapter update I've been working on for awhile. The next two chapters will not have Author's Notes, so I'll get everything out here. I'm in college and the final weeks of school are closing in. I don't have a lot of finals per se, but I do have a huge amount of important projects and presentations.

Because of this, I will be on something of a hiatus until probably mid-may. I'll still be updating, but much more slowly. Hopefully these chapters will tide you over. Special thanks to Nickie for helping with grammar and story guidance, and thanks to everyone who reviewed for your ideas and support.

Please continue to offer your ideas; as an author it's often hard to see better possibilites beyond what you've already thought of. Also, reviews burst my morale like an explosion of fireworks. Thanks for sticking with me everyone! Read and enjoy!
Gnat