Not Close Enough

Three rows of ten trainees each filed before Ichigo, vice captain of Squad 6, holding their wooden training swords. For the past half hour, the former substitute soul reaper stood under the noonday sun walking up and down each rank watching them execute the kata he spent ten minutes showing them. A kata that Captain Byakuya Kuchiki had explicitly ordered Ichigo to train them on till they could duplicate it in meticulous detail. When Renji was free to help he would be allowed to assist Ichigo. So far Renji had not returned from his own drilling practice with the other members of the squad.

“Loosen up on that handle, will you?” Ichigo shouted to the third Shinigami in row two.

Only two thirds seemed to have it remotely down, while the rest mucked through with lousy form. Others seemed promising yet came close to hitting the Shinigami next to him or her with the tip of the sword. That third Shinigami from the left clobbered the person to his left repeatedly whirling the sword over his head.

“All right, cut, let’s try this again!” Ichigo called out. He dashed up to the front again before he picked up his own training sword.

“First stroke, hands before you. Step 2 extend your right foot; raise your sword to your elbow. Then bring both hands up holding the grip, and slash diagonally… that’s step 3!”

“Step 4… turn your body ¼ to the side. Then bring up your sword like THAT!” Ichigo continued. 30 wooden staves moved in trepid synchronization, some a beat behind, others ahead.

Ichigo felt like some insane conductor before them all, feeling the sweat blistering on his brow. Why did it have to be so blasted hot today in Soul Society?

Every day Ichigo conducted his share of training exercises. Lately since the promotion of Renji to third seat, he had wondered about something. The question furthermost in his mind was if Byakuya was really going to carry through on his plan or not. Here it was a week into a second month and Ichigo stood in front of a series of squad 6 trainees checking their forms as they each held up their wooden training swords.

“Sloppy, sloppy, you two from the end… Shiori!” Ichigo barked, pointing to her with the tip of his sword.

“Sorry sir!” she called, timidly swinging her sword back. Again, she almost clocked her line partner in the head.

“It’s boring,” Tamaki mumbled from two rows back.

“This is just the first four moves in the set. Breaking it down’s the only way it’s going to work guys,” Ichigo sighed. He spotted the multiple hands shooting up. Wearily he asked, “Yes?”

“Kurosaki fukaitaicho could you please show us again?” Tamaki asked.

Relenting Ichigo agreed, “Look, lemmie stand the way you would…”

Other voices chimed in their assent. Ichigo turned his back to them and placed both hands on his training weapon. “Step 1… as you’re doing it pretend it’s someone you can’t stand. Step 2, you’re up to bat, step 3, you’re turning to dance ballroom style…”

“What’s baseball?” Shiori asked.

“A living world sport you idiot,” Iwao said from the sidelines as he strode over. Ichigo recognized the 20th seat.

“Thanks,” Ichigo said as the squad member walked over and stood next to him.

“You’ve got fans,” Iwao joked, nodding with a toss of his head. Glancing out of the corner of his eye Ichigo saw Ikkaku and Yumichika. They each leaned against the fence, two of them clutching a bottle of sake. Yumichika called, “the only one with a beautiful form is Kurosaki san!”

Ikkaku shook his head, pinching his nose. “Pathetic, you guys would NEVER make it in squad 11.”

“Oh yeah, well why don’t you get your ass over here and show them how you’d do it, tough guy?” Ichigo called to Ikkaku.

“Wondered when the hell you were gonna ask,” Ikkaku laughed, pushing his sake bottle over to Yumichika.

“You too, Yumichika. Both of you show them how they do things in Squad 11. Don’t hold back,” Ichigo challenged.

“Is this necessary,” one of the squad mates, Tamaki, whined.

“It’s an order. Front and center!” Ichigo barked, clapping his hands. “Let’s MOVE people!”

People scrambled to see Ikkaku and Yumichika standing opposite one another. Ikkaku shrugged off his kimono letting it hang around his hips. Yumichika blinked at him and smoothed his hair back, smiling. Just then, Renji happened to stride by.

“Abarai, third seat, I need your help!” Ichigo shouted.

“Kurosaki fukaitaicho?” he asked, wandering over.

“Wanna beat up on some of your old squad mates?” Ichigo asked him. Immediately Renji's brows contorted with the rest of his face into a mischievious grin.

“Who do I get to waste?” Renji joked.

“Oh no, no way. If he’s going to fight, then I wanna challenge you first,” Ikkaku insisted, pointing at Ichigo. “You still owe me a rematch.”

“Bring it on,” Ichigo said.

“But he did say squad 11,” said Yumichika. “Don’t give me that ugly frown. I do wish to fight you first. There’s plenty to go around.”

“Oh great I guess that means I gotta beat your ass?” Ichigo joked to Renji.

“Wanna put your money where your mouth is?” Renji asked, a challenge gleaming in his eye.

Ichigo grinned at his third seat. “I dunno, Ikkaku’s pretty insistent.”

“Winner fights the winner, got it,” said Ikkaku.

“Okay, it’s a deal,” Ichigo said, tossing each of them a training sword.

"Half of you, over here!" Ichigo then shouted to the group. "Watch a real training match and take notes!"

"Oi, rest of you lot get your backsides over here!" Renji shouted. Half of the group circled around Renji who moved towards Yumichika, and the others clustered around Ikkaku and Ichigo. With a smirk on his face, Ikkaku kept a ready distance from Ichigo.

They had not seriously fought except in demonstration matches, which was what this would end up being. If it was Hozukimaru in his hand, Ichigo was sure it would convince him to take it seriously. Nevertheless, from that gleam in his fighting partner’s eyes Ichigo realized Ikkaku took every fight seriously. Glancing at Ikkaku’s chest, he saw the long lateral scar he had inflicted upon the third seat. Ikkaku displayed it with the other scars like a badge of pride. Ichigo gripped his training sword two handed as he normally held Zangetsu.

Across from him Ikkaku circled, standing with one knee slightly bent and the sword clutched in his left hand. He then advanced first, with a loud yell. He broke into a run, weaving back and forth. Ichigo swung easily two handed blocking his first stroke.

He wove to the side dodging Ikakku’s next two, and then shot back narrowly avoiding the tip of Ikkaku’s sword. Then he flash stepped to the right, then the left. Ikkaku’s sword spun over his head and tagged him in the ribs.

Then the fun really started.

***

Minutes later Ichigo dabbed his bloody nose with a cloth Iwao handed him. Several blisters graced his forehead just visible under his fringe of orange hair. Next to him leaning against the fence, Ikkaku sported scrapes and scratches on his own baldhead. For a time they each took a break while Ichigo watched Renji and Yumichika dueling.

“Good form Abarai!” shouted Ichigo, giving Renji the thumbs up.

“Thank you Fukaitaicho!” Renji shouted.

By now, Renji had leapt over Yumichika’s low swing, and landed behind him. Yumichika swung around, his blade colliding with Renji’s back angle. Spinning around Renji then seemed to crouch a bit with his sword raised over his head and his body presenting a small target. Yumichika held his sword one handed, his hair moving only slightly as he swing two handed towards Renji. Keeping his elbows at the level of his hips, he blocked the forward slashes. Then he removed his left hand, swinging with the right, before tossing the sword to the left. It seemed as if no one could tell which hand he would transfer the sword to. Even tossing it up him would duck Renji’s swing and then catch the sword in either hand once more. Circling around they stopped to look one another critically in the eyes, challenging.

“Stop dicking around an fight damn it,” Ikkaku shouted.

“What and deprive these ones of a lovely fight? How boring!” Yumichika called back.

“You heard the man, enough games, let’s do this,” Renji said, glancing at his sparring partner.

“Just remember you used to be sixth seat,” Yumichika teased him.

“Yean yeah, I’ve heard it before,” Renji called back, swinging his weapon over his head and suddenly leaping forwards.

Yumichika feinted and slashed at him as he moved over his head but barely missed Renji’s sandaled toes. Then flipping over Renji landed on both feet and swung one handed, tagging Yumichika in the back. His former squad mate switched the sword to his other hand and swung in a series of graceful arcs.

All thirty trainees watched either match raptly, clapping hands and cheering when one favored opponent would gain the upper hand. All four were soaked in sweat, their kimonos sticking to their bodies or tossed off to hand around their hips. Renji’s had loosened sufficiently that Ichigo could see the dark markings of his chest.

“Let’s stop with the wooden swords and really fight,” Ikkaku suggested, glancing at Ichigo as he grabbed Hozukimaru from where it leaned up against the wall.

“Not unless Kuchiki Taicho says its okay,” Ichigo said, shaking his head no.

“What, you actually listen?” sniffed Ikkaku.

“Rules are rules,” Renji called overhearing the conversation. “Squad six doesn’t allow blade weapons at trainee sessions, even if seated squad members are giving a demo.”

“Bunch of pansies,” snorted Ikkaku. “Send ‘em over to squad 11 and we’ll see some real fighting.”

“Only way it’s allowed is if it’s the top five seated officers from squad six, and on the main grounds,” said Ichigo.

Renji shot forwards, almost blooding Yumichika’s arm if he had not been wearing the orange cuff on it. Then his sword shot just under the V of exposed material, tagging Yumichika not on bare skin, but his kimono.

“Match to you,” Yumichika said with a sigh, flickering his feather covered lashes. He raised one hand to flip stray hairs from his face.

“You’re not even fighting seriously,” Renji laughed back, hefting his wooden sword to his shoulder and letting it sit.

“Since a certain rule says no blade weapons, it’s rather pointless. But I think we gave your trainees a lovely show at least,” said Ikkaku chuckling.

“Bullshit,” Renji answered. “You fight seriously with the training swords when you’ve got a good incentive…”

“Is this a training exercise or a chatting session?” Ichigo called from the sidelines. “Winner fights winner remember?”

By now, all the trainees had gone silent, though Ichigo soon saw why. Scarf flowing behind him Byakuya strode towards them with a perturbed look on his aristocratic face. Glaring at Ichigo he asked, “Kurosaki Fukaitaicho, why are members from squad 11 here?”

Lavender reiatsu bristled through the empty air, almost stinging Ichigo in rebuke. He remembered to raise his own to shield himself. Yet all the trainees backed away from the immediate vicinity. Renji and his two former squadmates immediately inclined their heads. Ichigo kept his voice level as he explained, “To help with my training demo, Kuchiki Taicho."

“I see…” Byakuya murmured. “And did such exercises include such excessive bantering?”

“Sorry sir,” Ichigo answered. “We were showing melee combat sir."

To this statement the noble simply blinked. He waited for a full minute before uttering a few words, “Explain to me the necessity of involving outsiders when you were asked to conduct the training missions yourself, Kurosaki Fukaitaicho. Are you unclear in understanding my orders?"

“Winner fights winner. They needed to see things in action,” Ichigo added.

Eyes flicking to Renji the noble inquired, “Third seat Abarai; care to elaborate on the need to involve another squad?”

“Sorry sir but since Squad 11’s specialty is armed combat it seemed fitting,” Renji also apologized, bowing his head. Ichigo blinked at the schooled bland look in Renji’s face.

“You were a former member of squad 11. That is all the involvement that needs to take place unless I expressly order it,” Byakuya said firmly. Ikkaku and Yumichika snorted but said nothing, tossing their heads to the side. Neither graced the noble with eye contact.

Running one hand through his short-cropped hair Ichigo stepped between his two friends and his commanding officer. “Sir, it never hurts to have some fresh advice.”

Renji glanced at their Captain, visibly cringing at the slate grey eyes fixated on Ichigo, pinning him in place. Ichigo met his gaze evenly, listening to the reprimand as he flinched. Byakuya rumbled, “Kurosaki Fukaitaicho, when I want your opinion I will ask for it! Maderame, Asegawa you are dismissed. Please return to your squad.”

“C’mon let’s get outta here,” Ikkaku said grabbing Yumichika’s sleeve. “It’s a bit stuffy in here…”

“Mmmn,” Yumichika mumbled, shaking his head as he sauntered off with his squad mate. Nose raised slightly in the air Byakuya watched them retreat. Ichigo shook his head, wincing, while Renji bit his lip.

“Yer lucky, Fukaitaicho,” Renji whispered, standing closer to Ichigo. “He let ya off easy.”

“Do you have a question, Abarai third seat?” Byakuya queried, turning his head slightly to the side. Immediately Renji snapped up into an erect pose, saluting.

“Kuchiki Taicho, I’m also t’ blame. I thought it’d be a good idea t’ support Kurosaki Fukaitaicho’s efforts t’ train the squad,” the former vice captain chimed in.

“Their lack of respect undermines my careful authority,” Byakuya then said, turning to Ichigo.

“But sir, they weren’t doing any harm…” said Ichigo quietly. He stopped when Renji anxiously widened his eyes, shaking his head no.

“Fukaitaicho, drop it,” Renji hissed to Ichigo out of the side of his mouth. Ichigo snapped his open mouth shut, neck muscles twitching as he still met that noble’s gaze defiantly.

Byakuya then said frostily, “That is all I will say. The matter is dismissed.”

“Whatever you say sir,” Ichigo mumbled.

“Yes Kuchiki Taicho,” Renji said, bowing his head.

Then turning to Renji Byakuya said, “Abarai third seat, take over the training exercise please.”

“Understood sir!” Renji said.

“Accompany me, Kurosaki Fukaitaicho. I require your assistance elsewhere,” Byakuya said, motioning with his head towards a slightly embarrassed Ichigo. Renji caught his gaze and frowned, sympathy in his dark eyes.

“Yes sir,” Ichigo mumbled, falling into step behind Byakuya. At that point, he had flushed almost the shade of Renji’s hair, seconds away from steam shooting out his ears.

***

Once they had left the training grounds behind Byakuya broke the silence. “Kurosaki Fukaitaicho, why did you not follow the rules for training supervision today?”

“Abarai’s let squad 11 help out with training before. What’s different now?” asked Ichigo sullenly.

“Abarai had asked for my permission. You did not,” said Byakuya.

“Sorry sir. I’ll remember that next time,” Ichigo answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“See that you do. I would prefer if such oversights were kept to a minimum as you’d seen fit to do till lately,” Byakuya chided.

Ichigo pulled out the small planner from his sleeve and glanced through it as he followed Byakuya. So far, he saw nothing on the noble’s agenda except a number of meetings. Just what he needed to do, sit through another damn meeting. That meant an entire half-day’s walk to the main assembly area of Sereitei and sitting in a room with the other vice captains.

“Oh joy,” Ichigo grumbled. He almost wished for another Arrancar problem to crop up because meetings were one of his least favorite things.

When was the last time he had worried about something so mundane as a history report? Alternatively, missed his father even leaping on him in an attempt to catch him off guard? Laughed secretly at Keigo’s jokes even though he shoved his friend away? Walking through the maze of corridors of Soul Society day after day between fights and missions in Hueco Mundo was exciting, yet he felt as if his old life was a dream, and a lovely dream at that.

“Damn I even miss Keigo. I must be going crazy,” Ichigo mumbled.

“What was that, Kurosaki fukaitaicho?” asked Byakuya, stopping.

“Nothing. Just homesick I guess,” Ichigo hastily replied.

Steel blue eyes fixated on him, chilling the air around him almost. “You should have considered that as a consequence before you dragged my fukaitaicho into your living world affairs.”

Ichigo cocked his orange haired head to the side, frowning. Hand resting on his hip Ichigo said sarcastically, “How can I forget sir.”

From the manner in which Byakuya’s eyes narrowed Ichigo knew this was the wrong thing to say. In that rumbling voice like thunder Byakuya warned, “Kindly moderate your tone of voice with me.”

“Sorry sir,” Ichigo sighed, inclining his head. With a grunt Byakuya turned away, indicating this was sufficient for Ichigo’s transgression. Obediently the once substitute Shinigami marched after his superior. Just how did Renji do this day in and day out? Not talk back to someone because he was afraid of a demerit or a mark on a record?

Renji must have the patience of a saint, or else be afraid of Kuchiki like everyone else was. Either way, Ichigo was not doing this for himself, but for the man he loved. That alone was incentive enough to behave himself. Granted Ichigo behaved for the teachers at school, so pretending Byakuya was one of them made it easier for him to get through this. However, he knew that he was going to eventually graduate, whereas this particular situation he was not sure. Byakuya had promised it would only last a month but it was a week past that.

Something had to give. Ichigo was homesick, and damn it if he was not going to say something soon. Just how would he without endangering Renji’s position? One month as fukaitaicho was more than enough.