Not Close Enough

Renji hissed from the stinging cuts as he sat on a bed in squad 4. Nearby Ichigo grabbed antiseptic and cleaned a particularly nasty gash running over Renji’s left shoulder. It marred the beautiful tribal tattoo there. Squad Six had assisted squad 13 in dealing with a rush of Arrancar who had suddenly made their way into Soul Society. Squad 11 already held them off, but it took a combined effort of the three divisions to keep things at bay. A number of other squads had suffered casualties, filling Squad 4 to capacity with the wounded and worse.

“You call THAT a wound? That’s a SCRATCH!” Ikkaku taunted, sitting by the door looking in on them.

“Care to share some of that sake?” Renji asked. Ikkaku tossed the bottle to Yumichika who leaned on the doorframe watching Ichigo at work. He carried the bottle to Renji, who reached down to sip some.

“I could probably use that to clean your wounds too,” Ichigo commented, watching his lover take a small swig.

“What, that’s a CRIME! Waste sake on cleaning up cuts?” Ikkaku glared at Ichigo in mock horror.

Hanatarou poked his head in. “K… kurosaki F… Fukaitaicho, are you sure you don’t need help?”

“No, I’ve got this under control. I know you’ve got a lot of worse injuries you’re already filled to the gills with,” Ichigo called back. Hantararou nodded, vanishing back into Squad 4. The sounds of many groans and mutters could be heard amidst shuffling stretchers and the orders of various medical staff.

“You two gonna sit and watch him put me back together, or what?” Renji glanced sidelong at his two old squad mates.

“Just wanted to make sure your beautiful tattoo work was preserved properly,” Yumichika said as he dragged up a chair and sat down on it. He glanced down irritated at the sling on his left arm and sighed. Ikkaku laughed and sipped more sake, leaning back on the doorframe.

“Thanks guys, but that’s really not a problem,” Renji rolled his eyes at them. Ikkaku had his own share of bandages on his bare torso. Still his kimono hung around his waist revealing his muscular chest marked with a very distinctive scar that Ichigo had given him in their first fight. He wore it as a badge of honor.

“Uh huh,” Ichigo nodded, reaching for a roll of bandaging. He stretched it out and wrapped it carefully after securing it with surgical tape. Renji bit back another hiss as Ichigo’s fingers brushed past a sensitive bruise.

“Miyamoto, son of a bitch, what the hell was he thinking?” Renji grumbled, shaking his head.

“He’s gonna make it,” Ichigo said softly, feeling the levity in the room drop considerably. Ikkaku simply sipped more sake while Yumichika glanced down at the ground.

“Still… if I’d been in charge of patrol 5…” Renji mumbled, resting his head in his hands.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Ichigo said softly. “He did his duty. And Unohana’s the best healer in Soul Society, right?”

“Hell yeah,” Ikkaku called from the corner. “Stop moping Abarai, and have some more sake. Since we can’t go till they clear us we might as well party here.”

Finishing bandaging Renji’s shoulder Ichigo moved to his ribs, winding lengths of gauze and supportive tape there. The more he worked the more the black marks seemed to vanish from view. Already Renji like Ikkaku was bared to the waist, allowing everyone to see a good deal of his torso. Ichigo could not help thinking that he was one of the few other than his two closest friends who knew all of the markings by memory. Maybe except for a few other details he had been made aware of.

“Because of my fuck up, Miyamoto may be off duty for six months at least,” Renji said.

“Why the hell should you care? You’ll get promoted?” Ikkaku asked.

“That is an extremely UGLY thing to say,” Yumichika hissed at him. Ikkaku snorted and threw a hand forwards as if it were no big deal.

“That is not what it’s all about,” Ichigo said firmly, glaring at both of them. “Watch your mouth or I’ll watch it FOR you.”

“Wanna fight if I do?” Ikkaku asked, grinning at Ichigo.

“I’ll kick your ass anytime, you know that,” Ichigo shot back at him. “But you’re already in the hospital and I don’t wanna dirty the floors with your blood anymore.”

“Not to mention blood is extremely hard to get out of hospital gowns, despite what they say,” said Yumichika.

Renji said nothing to this, simply leaning over and staring at the floor in a funk. A few pieces of his long hair had escaped from the topknot and haphazardly hung around his face. The white cloth of his headband had a few bloodstains on it, though whether it was his blood or someone else’s was up for debate.

“Hey,” Ichigo said as he sat down on the bed next to him. “You going to mope or tell me what the hell’s on your mind?”

“Just drop it. Doesn’t matter,” Renji answered.

“Whatever you say,” Ichigo mumbled back, glancing at the two friends keeping a close eye on Renji. He saw Yumichika’s slow nod, and Ikkaku’s inclined head as an indication he was right to leave things alone for the time being.

Again, Hanatarou walked past. “Excuse me… Ikkaku third seat and Asegaya fifth seat? Zaraki Taicho’s requested all squad members that are able to pick up a sword should go back to active duty…”

“Sounds better then wasting time here with a moody son of a bitch,” Ikkaku said as he climbed to his feet. “You coming Yumichika?”

“In a minute,” his friend answered. Ikkaku shouldered his Zanpakuto in its scabbard and left the jug of sake behind him.

“Look after him all right? Make sure he doesn’t go tearing himself open again and ruin any more of those lovely tattoos,” Yumichika said to both of them. “And you mind your fukaitaicho.”

“Yeah, later,” Renji answered.

“See you and thanks,” Ichigo nodded as Yumichika excused himself. Once they were alone Renji allowed himself to sigh more openly. Ichigo continued to sit next to him, hunched over in the same posture with his folded hands resting between his parted knees.

“Ya didn’t have to jump to protect me ya know. I can fight my own battles,” Renji said finally.

“I know, but I was sick of hearing him babbling. He was pissing me off,” Ichigo answered.

“Coulda just told him to shut up,” Renji answered.

“Sorry if I embarrassed you, sheesh,” Ichigo mumbled.

“Forget about it.”

“You look like you could do with some rest, you know,” Ichigo said.

“I know yer my Fukaitaicho as well as my lover, kid, but right now I could give a damn less,” Renji said, raising one hand as if to push him away.

“Oh yeah so you’ll get your ass incapacitated or killed? Not on my watch pal!” Ichigo shouted.

Renji turned his head and yelled, “Warrior’s pride you dumbass! I thought ya got it!”

“And I thought you got that there’s times it doesn’t mean shit!” Ichigo yelled back.

“It was my fault Miyamoto got creamed! I’m responsible.”

“What fucked up logic made you think that? If anything I’m the one to blame causing this whole mess in command changes,” Ichigo snapped.

“Don’t you dare even bring that up, kid," Renji warned him.

“Look, if you want to blame yourself fine. However, it isn’t going to help him get better any sooner is it? Why don’t you turn those emo feelings and go beat the hell out of something if you need a target?” Ichigo asked.

“In case you didn’t notice I’m in the fucking hospital?” Renji snorted.

“And it would kill you to talk about it, now that Cheech and Chong are gone?” asked Ichigo. “Not as your fukaitaicho but as the man who loves you. Whichever you want to pick. I’m not leaving here till you spill.”

“Miyamoto and I were in the same class. Both on squad 5. He was a seat above me. Till I got transferred. Then when he changed to squad six, which was about the time I joined squad 11. You shoulda seen his face when I ended up Fukaitaicho of six instead of him. He was fourth seat. Now that he’s third seat I’ve not seen him happier…”

“You’re thinking it’ll kill his pride because you figure Kuchiki Taicho’s gonna move you up to third?” asked Ichigo.

“If he can’t go back to duty, yeah. He’ll be bumped down to fourth. Though I dunno what to think anymore.”

A hell butterfly fluttered in through the window at that moment. Ichigo glanced up to see if Renji would lift a finger. However since it hovered by his head Ichigo reluctantly raised his own finger for the insect to land on. He waited a minute, absorbing the message it relayed that he alone could hear. With a sigh, he released it.

“Tell Kuchiki Taicho acknowledged and understood. I’ll be there in an hour,” Ichigo said.

The hell butterfly circled once to confirm the message. Then it fluttered back out the window. Ichigo turned to Renji again, who had stopped looking at the floor at least. “Well?”

“You’re right. It’s official…”

“What’s official?” Renji asked.

“You’re seat three, Squad 6,” said Ichigo quietly.

“Fucking terrific,” Renji mumbled, sinking further into his dark mood. Swinging around on the bed he laid down, folding his arms under his head. He stared up at the ceiling, ignoring Ichigo for the moment. Tugging up the chair he had first sat on, Ichigo then settled down into it, resting his hands in his lap.

“If I didn’t know you any better I’d think you liked being fourth seat…” Ichigo said, nervous about saying such things but right now Renji would probably snap his head off if he said anything.

“What the fuck gave you THAT idea?” his lover asked, glaring at Ichigo.

“Never mind,” Ichigo said. “Just forget it.”

“Maybe I do,” Renji answered after a long silence. Bedsprings creaked as he sat up once again, reaching for his lover. Fingers closed around Ichigo’s arm, tugging him towards the bedside.

“How so?” Ichigo asked, turning to face him. He scooted the chair close enough so his knee touched Renji’s hip.

“Spending time in Fourth seat I remembered what it was like to have more time to just hang out with my friends. I wasn’t stuck in that office so much. I’ve had more time to myself, and it’s kind of a gift yannow?” Renji murmured. He caressed Ichigo’s cheek, brushing tufts of orange hair affectionately just before his lover’s ear.

Ichigo grabbed Renji’s hand and kissed it. “No shame in admitting it. I just thought it was interesting, that’s all. I’d been so afraid you’d blow a fuse, but…”

“Shaddup. Doesn’t matter now. We’ve been over that,” Renji said, shaking his head. Smoothing Renji’s sideburn Ichigo traced fingers over his brow. Then the tattooed shinigami grabbed Ichigo and yanked him forwards onto the bed.

“Careful, idiot!” Ichigo warned, stopping himself from falling onto Renji’s injured torso with a hand braced by his lover’s shoulder. Hooking a hand around Ichigo’s neck, he rubbed the base of it and then pulled him in for a warm kiss.

In the struggle to get comfortable Renji lay on his side, moving over so Ichigo could lay on the bed next to him. Hungrily Ichigo buried his tongue in Renji’s mouth, not caring that he was still fully clothed badge and all while Renji was bare chested and sweaty, swathed in bandages. Hands wandered over Renji’s body while Renji tugged at Ichigo’s top teasingly.

After they pulled away for breath, Renji murmured, “Ichigo, I wanna tell ya something.”

“Sure what?” Ichigo asked his eyes half shut and glazed over with lust. He smoothed more flyway bits of Renji’s red locks behind his lover’s ear.

“You’re good at what you do, Ichigo. Kuchiki didn’t promote ya just to piss me off,” Renji chuckled, grinning idiotically at him.

“C’mon what the hell is this shit?” Ichigo chided, pressing his forehead to Renji’s. “You trying to suck up to me?”

Softly Renji brushed his nose past Ichigo’s. “Nah. I mean it, dumbass. An, there’s other things too…”

“Such as?” his lover wondered, massaging Renji’s other shoulder, which was bare. He traced the triple markings on the forearm that weren’t bruised.

“There have been rumors flying around that Squad 5 needs help. They’re looking for a captain’s position. And well… I thought of one way out of our little problem,” Renji confessed. Ichigo pressed down on his elbow and half straightened up at this.

Folding one hand under his head Ichigo asked, “What’s that? You thinkin’ of trying for it?”

“Are you nuts, I thought you should,” Renji said glancing at Ichigo thoughtfully.

“No way in HELL,” Ichigo answered angrily. “Uh uh, no fucking way I’m gonna do it. My life’s over in the living world, not here!”

Rubbing the back of his neck Renji admitted, “Well maybe not NOW, but…”

“I’ve got a life back there Renji that I wanna get back to,” Ichigo said quietly. “I’m only 16. That’s what Ukitake-san and Kyoraku-san said a few days ago. That they were concerned about how I was taking things. Asking if I missed my family…”

“I guess I just got used to having you over here,” Renji said soberly.

“This isn’t my world Renji. Not yet anyway,” Ichigo responded. “Maybe in fifty years or so once I’ve lived my life out the way I wanted…”

Looking up at him, Renji grasped Ichigo’s hand to squeeze it. He leaned over and caught Ichigo’s lips in another intense kiss. Then pulling back he asked, “What DO you want, Strawberry?”

To this Ichigo closed his eyes, hanging his head with confusion and guilt. “I don’t know. However, I want to have the chance to screw around and make mistakes. Just be a normal teenager even though I’m NOT one. Be a big brother to Karin and Yuzu, even if my dad’s a pain in the ass…”

“Then you should get that chance,” Renji agreed. “And when things change, you’ll go back to that life.”

“But will I see you again?” asked Ichigo.

Shaking his head Renji frowned. “Of course you dumbass!”

“Renji, the past time here has been… intense. I’ve done things and seen…” Ichigo began. Yet when he saw the cautionary look on Renji’s face, he climbed out of bed quickly. Hanatarou again stood in the doorway with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry Kurosaki san, Abarai san. But Kuchiki Taicho wants to speak to both of you…”

“All right,” Ichigo said.

“I’ll send word to him,” said Hanatarou, bowing to both of them. Renji and Ichigo exchanged worried glances.

***

Before Kuchiki entered, Renji made a fuss about putting on a robe or at least an under kimono to cover his chest and make himself presentable. Of course, Ichigo assisted him, and then straightened his own uniform. Therefore, when Byakuya strode regally in, Renji sat bold upright in bed while Ichigo stood to attention saluting him. Renji saluted as well.

“Kuchiki Taicho,” both of them said.

“I am to understand that you both acquitted yourselves quite well with your respective squads,” Kuchiki nodded.

“Yes sir,” Ichigo replied. “All casualties have been reported.”

“Good. Abarai Renji, you have been made aware of your promotion?” asked Byakuya. Glancing sideling Renji’s eyes widened a bit as he heard the new directly from his Taicho’s lips. A sparkle lit up those dark brown eyes that Ichigo saw more bright then he’d seen in his time here in Soul society.

“Yes sir, thank you Kuchiki Taicho,” Renji said eagerly.

“Your service has been satisfactory. I see no reason why you should not continue in this capacity since you have the qualifications. Consider it effective immediately upon leaving Squad 4,” said Byakuya.

“Of course Taicho!” the tattooed shinigami almost laughed aloud. However, for the sake of decorum he held back. Ichigo smiled warmly, not hiding his relief and excitement.

“Thank you,” Ichigo said softly to Byakuya.

“Why are you thanking me, Kurosaki Fukaitaicho? It is merely a promotion,” said Byakuya, puzzled.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Ichigo clarified, inclining his head. “Kuchiki Taicho.”

Byakuya entoned tersely, “Kurosaki Fukaitaicho, please accompany me back to squad six headquarters. You must brief me on everything that transpired. I will expect your report when you are released, Abarai third seat.”

“Yes sir, Taicho,” Renji nodded. He nodded as Ichigo glanced back at him with a look of apology, and saw him mouth the word ‘later’.

Taking a last look at his lover laying down in the bed, Ichigo marched after Byakuya. He suddenly felt a strange weight settling more heavily than before as Byakuya lead him away through the corridors of the hospital. Ichigo felt far older than ever now, wondering if he was doing such a good job that Kuchiki would keep him on for real. Byakuya had come to rely on him, often asking him to accompany him in many places. Only when he came home did he have any real time with Renji beyond the office.

Time he treasured more than anything else.