Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Reminiscence ❯ 08 -- Promises ( Chapter 9 )

Title: Reminiscence

Memory: 08 -- Promises

Author: La Loba de Mibu

Rating: PG

Characters: Ikkaku and Yumichika

Warnings: Fluff?

Summary: Ikkaku always kept his promises; but for once, Yumichika wished he wouldn't . . .

Notes: The number of the chapter does not reflect the chronological order of the present storyline, rather the flashback portrayed therein.

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns all things Bleach.

Beta'd by: jamminbison

 

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~ Series Timeline

~ Series Index: Chapters 1-7 & Interlude

 

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The skies above Seireitei had opened up without warning and started pouring buckets, catching several of its residents unawares as they enjoyed a cool early spring afternoon. Ikkaku and Yumichika had been in no hurry as they made their way back to the Academy dorms, discussing the long school day as usual, when the rain started to fall.

 

“And so she—hn?” Yumichika was interrupted by the nice fat raindrop that fell square on his nose. He looked up at the darkened sky as it was quickly followed by another, and another, painting the ground wet around them.

 

“Aw, shit,” Ikkaku moaned, “C'mon!”

 

With that he dashed down the now empty streets, trusting Yumichika to follow. They had vacated with the sudden downpour; apparently everyone else had rushed home to avoid this precise predicament. Within minutes they were sopping wet, and Yumichika couldn't help a quiet grumble to himself as he hurried after Ikkaku.

 

Ikkaku suddenly darted under an awning in front of a closed shop, and Yumichika would have run right by him had the other not grabbed his arm as he slipped by and reeled him in. Before he knew it, Yumichika found himself nestled back to chest against the other man, Ikkaku's arms loose around his waist keeping him close under the tiny shelter. Standing even a single step apart would have put one of them out under the rain again.

 

Yumichika felt his face go red as a tomato, which made him glad that Ikkaku couldn't see his it. He didn't fidget, or tense; he was more then used to Ikkaku's casual touch. But that was precisely his problem; it'd been a while since Yumichika had to keep reminding himself that it was just that: casual.

 

With a hint of remorse, Yumichika found himself thinking how cruel and utterly ironic it was that he now craved for a touch, that merely decades ago had upset him . . .

 

. . . . .

 

 

The rain had been absolutely torrential, catching them completely unawares on a solitary path between towns. In the sparse forest around them, the rain fell so fast and heavily that even the most thickly canopied of trees did little more than slow the rate at which water pelted against tender skin.

 

It would not have been so miserable had the storm not been accompanied by howling winds that drove the water into their faces so hard and sudden at times that Yumichika thought it would surely drown them where they stood. But worst of all, it was cold as ice, and he was beginning to feel that he'd never be warm or dry enough again.

 

He'd been trudging alongside Ikkaku but had steadily fallen behind, as he struggled not to trip with his geta getting sucked into the thick mud of the path with every step he took. Ikkaku had no such trouble, traveling barefoot as always, and he paused to look over his shoulder when he stopped feeling Yumichika's presence just behind.

 

“Oi! Yumichika, would you hurry the hell up? I'd like to get out of this today,” he tsked, noticing the problem, “Just take `em off already.”

 

Yumichika paused a moment to let his eyes wander over Ikkaku's feet. They were completely bathed in mud high above the ankles, with splatters reaching high up Ikkaku's shins all the way to his knees. Yumichika himself, thanks to his geta, only had splatters along his ankles, and he'd be damned before he willingly submitted his dainty little feet to the same rough treatment as Ikkaku's lumbering gnarled excuses for the same appendages.

 

“No,” he said resolutely with a glare.

 

The powers must have thought him haughty for it because Yumichika's geta stuck fast with his next step and he tripped right off his feet, falling hands and knees onto the muddy path. The grimy substance spattered spectacularly across his face, all over his arms and kimono. He could hear Ikkaku sniggering quietly.

 

“Shut. Up. Or I will kill you,” he managed to growl out, brow twitching.

 

But his glare was quickly turning into a pout as he examined the extent of the damaging mess, grieving at the stains he'd never get out. Ikkaku walked over and offered a hand up, which he grudgingly accepted.

 

“C'mon, I think I saw something up ahead,” he said, pulling Yumi onto his feet.

 

They plodded on, wind whipping up around them, making the rain seem like it was falling from all directions. Finally, Yumichika caught sight of what Ikkaku had seen, a rickety shack. They hurried to it, finding its doors broken off the hinges, disabling them from being slid shut. The roof leaked so badly, it seemed almost as if it was raining inside as well, though much less then outside. Still, It was better than nothing.

 

“Dammit,” Ikkaku hissed after they walked inside, and saw the flooded hearth, “Guess, that rules out a fire.”

 

Yumichika sighed, so much for his hopes of being warm or dry. He wrung his hair of the icy water as best he could, combing his fingers through it absently as he turned to Ikkaku and very nearly choked to death. Yumichika spun back around, but not before he got an eye full of the other man in nothing but his loincloth. He was still not used to the way the other shed his clothes around him like nothing. A small knot of distress formed in the pit of his stomach as it dawned on him why Ikkaku had done so and what he would propose. Their packs were soaked through, along with their blankets and change of clothes.

 

“Take that kimono off and come here. We'll stay warmer if we huddle together,” Ikkaku suggested it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, adding when Yumi hesitated, “What you waiting for? Hurry up, I'm cold as hell.”

 

Yumichika was cold too, but for an entirely different reason then his rain soaked skin and wet clothes. He was more then just a little body conscious. In fact, he'd never once undressed in front of Ikkaku in all the years traveling together since their meeting nearly three decades earlier. Was Ikkaku so oblivious, or just inconsiderate?

 

But the rational part of his mind pointed out that Yumichika would catch his death staying in those icy wet clothes. He snorted then as he untied his obi, thinking how ridiculous it was that one could die after death. Hesitating once he got to his naga-juban, he cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, but Ikkaku had his back turned, busy clearing debris from a spot near the wall that had no leaks above it. He undid the ties with slightly trembling hands and moved over to where Ikkaku had settled against the wall. Sitting as close as he dared without actually touching the other man, Yumichika pulled his legs close and wrapped his arms tight around his knees.

 

Ikkaku destroyed his hopes that this would do by immediately shifting closer until everything from their toes, thighs and up to their arms was touching skin to skin, and Ikkaku was casually resting an elbow on Yumi's shoulder as he leaned against the wall. Yumichika was wound tight as a spring, but Ikkaku seemed as ignorant to it as always.

 

Ikkaku, as he'd come to learn over the years, was surprisingly at ease with casual touch, perhaps too much so. He had little sense or respect for the concept of personal space much to Yumi's ire and frustration in their first few years of travel together, as it was what his life had revolved around before they'd met. Ikkaku never had any qualms about pulling his arm to drag him somewhere, tapping his shoulder to get his attention, shoving or even hitting him at times when he whined too much or was being too difficult. None of those were welcome, but were tolerated as Yumichika had observed them to be a part of normal, everyday interaction.

 

What bewildered Yumichika, and often had him jumping in the beginning, was the way Ikkaku would on occasion carelessly stroke his hair after a nightmare, or brush a stand that'd fallen into his face behind his ear, or rub a smudge of blood off his cheek with a calloused thumb after a fight, or even throw an arm around his shoulders when they entered gambling houses to warn away unwanted suitors. Those were all touches he'd learned to fear in his life before Ikkaku; touches that often preceded painful memories best forgotten.

 

But bit by bit, he'd slowly started to realize that Ikkaku meant absolutely nothing by them. That unbelievably as it was to him at the time, those touches were all completely platonic. It was never Ikkaku's intention to start anything by them. He repeated this over and over in his head as a mantra, but it was hard to relax when he felt so exposed, with the cold biting harshly at his limbs and breaking his concentration. Absently he realized he was shaking like a leaf.

 

“Geez, you featherweight,” Ikkaku said in a light teasing tone as he too noticed Yumichika's excessive shivering, “C'mere.”

 

Ikkaku shifted beside him and the next thing Yumichika knew, a large calloused hand was at his bare waist pulling him closer and that was simply too much.

 

“Ikkaku, stop.”

 

It hadn't been loud, barely above a whisper, but no sooner did he utter the words, than to his astonishment, Ikkaku backed off. He turned and stared dumbly for a minute because he couldn't remember a single time when that request had been obeyed. This man before him was the first, he looked at his feet feeling too ashamed to meet Ikkaku's gaze.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Ain't nothing to be sorry for,” Ikkaku didn't miss a beat before he answered. A hand under Yumichika's chin forced him to meet Ikkaku's sincere eyes, “Yumi, I promise you, I won't ever touch ya like that.”

 

Yumichika couldn't answer, he had swallowed his tongue.

 

“Now c'mere, I'm freezing my ass off and you are too.”

 

With that, Ikkaku unceremoniously looped an arm around Yumi's waist and shifted them until Yumichika was nestled between his sprawled legs, back leaning against Ikkaku's broad chest. Ikkaku leaned forward a bit more until he could wrap his arms around Yumi's smaller form, and rested his chin nonchalantly on a crown of dark long hair.

 

Yumichika eventually convinced his eyes to stay in his skull, but he was sure his face would spontaneously combust into flames at any second considering how hot it was. But though he was unsettled and embarrassed, Yumichika could not deny the fact that he felt utterly safe and warm in Ikkaku's embrace . . .

 

 

. . . . .

 

 

He'd learned to love those rare embraces most of all. It was his wretched luck that he should begin to desire the touch of a man who never touched him in desire.

 

Yumichika sighed and leaned back more heavily against Ikkaku behind him. He felt the man lower his chin onto his head, as he'd done all those years ago when Ikkaku made a questioning sound. Yumi glanced over his shoulder with an inquiring look and was met with a curious frown. Ikkaku moved his hand from the top of Yumi's head in a straight line to his body as if measuring.

 

“Did you shrink?” he asked out of nowhere.

 

“What?” Yumi made a face at the inanity of such a question, answering with clear emphasis, “No. I'm not wearing geta; and you've actually grown since we came here.”

 

“Don't make such a terrible face, yer already looking like a drowned rat. Don't make it worse—OW!”

 

“At least I don't look like a polished cue ball!”

 

Yumichika delivered another whack to Ikkaku's shiny bald head for good measure, only to yelp when Ikkaku promptly shoved him back out into the cold rain. He glared as the bald man laughed at his expense, and quickly returned the favor by grabbing his arm and swinging Ikkaku around and out from under the awning as he ducked back under himself. Yumichika laughed as Ikkaku cursed colorfully and pushed back under their small shelter.

 

Fate, Yumichika decided, wanted to torment him, because Ikkaku tripped on absolutely nothing and Yumichika ended up with his back pressed against the wall, and Ikkaku leaning over him, face not an inch from his own. He scarcely dared to breathe, he didn't dare speak. Their eyes met and locked for longer than was strictly necessary, and Yumi knew it had to be his imagination when Ikkaku's eyes flicked towards his lips before the taller man moved back.

 

With his arms around Yumichika's waist again, Ikkaku turned them around so his back was once more leaning against the wall. Yumichika remained facing him, sighing imperceptibly in disappointment as he rested his cheek again the other's chest. Ikkaku's chin soon settled lightly on his head; and there they waited for the rain to stop, seeming for all the world like a pair of embracing lovers.

 

Surrounded by Ikkaku's warmth, Yumichika found himself fervently wishing that Ikkaku had never made him that stupid promise. As he burrowed deeper into the safety of the arms around him, he was much too preoccupied by his seemingly futile hopes to look up and notice the barely discernible dusting of pink that had colored the other's face.

 

 

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~*Owari*~