Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ Strangely Average ( Chapter 61 )

Title: Strangely Average

Pairings/Characters: Uryuu/Hanatarou

Rating:
Warning: Crack pairing. Takes place somewhere after Soul Society Arc but before all the crap with the Bount in the Bount Arc.

Words: 988

Description: He was a nothing, a nobody, but somehow, Uryuu was terribly intrigued.

Dedication: For an anonymous reviewer on aff.net.

 

 

The first time he met the slim, slightly shaking man was when he had walked into a convenience store, there due to a late-night craving. Uryuu knew on sight and sense that the timid person behind the counter was one of the Shinigami, and somehow, the young man had known who he was as well.

 

Uryuu had often heard Ichigo talk about the fourth division healer who had helped he and Ganju during their invasion of Seireitei, but the Quincy had always imagined him to be someone bigger, a bit stronger looking. But the frail, short, almost boyish man in front of him, smiling gently as he introduced himself, was definitely not what Uryuu had expected.

 

“Konban wa, Ishida-san,” the healer said with a bow of his head as he took the items Uryuu had been holding and proceeded to ring them.

 

Uryuu blinked, recognizing the reiatsu as Shinigami but not the person himself. “Evening…” he trailed off, hoping the other male would introduce himself.

 

The Shinigami startled as if ashamed of his lack of propriety. “Oh! Gomen! I am Yamada Hanatarou,” the smaller male replied with another respective bow. “Ichigo-san told me about you.”

 

He pushed up his glasses with one finger. “You're the healer,” the Quincy responded, clarity coming to him at the familiar name. “Though I should have known from your reiatsu.”

 

Hanatarou gave another one of those hesitant smiles. “Ichigo-san mentioned me?” he questioned, obviously pleased by this turn of events and yet surprised as well.

 

There was something about that smile that did Uryuu in, feeling a strange tingle in his belly. “What are you doing here, Yamada-san?” He glanced around pointedly.

 

“Vacation,” the Shinigami chirped before rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Though I forgot and came without money. Luckily, the owner is really nice. He helped me, even though he didn't know me at all.”

 

'Likely a pervert,' Uryuu thought automatically, taking in Hanatarou's strangely innocent expression and all too trusting eyes. He felt indignant on the healer's behalf, dangerous possibilities flashing through his mind.

 

The register dinged as it spat out the Quincy's change. He accepted it and his bag of groceries without thought.

 

“How long are you staying?” he asked, the inquiry slipping out before he could even guess its origin.

 

“A couple of weeks,” Hanatarou cheerily responded, brightening considerably. “Unohana-taichou says I deserve the break.”

 

“Yamada-san! I need help in the back!” a voice interrupted their conversation, causing the slim Shinigami to startle.

 

Uryuu assumed it was Hanatarou's manager.

 

The healer hunched his shoulders in an apologetic manner. “Ah, gomen, Ishida-san, I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” He bowed again before hurrying into the back.

 

Uryuu was left blinking, his groceries dangling from one hand before he had turned and left. He expected to never see Hanatarou again, but something had him returning time and time again to that shop. Pure curiosity perhaps. He wasn't quite sure.

 

There was something about the fourth division Shinigami that captured his interest. The frailty belying inner strength maybe. Or the knowledge that this small creature had thought to stand up to Kuchiki Byakuya on his own for the sake of his beliefs. Yamada Hanatarou had patched Ichigo together more times than Uryuu could count.

 

Maybe it was those reasons that Uryuu found himself again standing in the convenience store, his fourth visit that week, despite the fact that his refrigerator at home was fully stocked. This late at night, the shop was devoid of customers, although he could hear the sound of the manager puttering around in the back. He never seemed to be doing any real work.

 

Hanatarou was working the counter once again, idly cleaning it with a cloth, and he looked up as the Quincy approached the register. “Ishida-san,” he greeted with a smile that was growing increasingly familiar. “Do you need help finding something?”

 

He had noticed that Uryuu wasn't carrying anything.

 

The teenager shook his head. “Actually,” he began, taking in a breath, “I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night?”

 

Blinking, Hanatarou seemed confused before he answered. “I am. Why?”

 

Uryuu pushed his glasses up with one finger, trying to hide behind the reflective surface. “There's a new sushi bar opening up down the street. I thought you might like to try it.”

 

Somehow, this strangely average creature had managed to ensnare him. There was nothing special about him at all. He was small, and he was frail, not particularly strong. He lacked the same presence as someone like Kurosaki. Yet, it was impossible to ignore him, impossible to push his existence to the back of Uryuu's mind.

 

It was entirely baffling.

 

He wasn't a captain or even a vice-captain. He was timid and nervous, prone to dropping things or tripping over his own feet. He was far too kind and far too trusting. Yet, he was bold enough to steal a key to save a person he thought should not die. He was the type to blend in the background yet forced his way to the forefront with a quiet determination.

 

Hanatarou had managed to intrigue him in the same manner that Kurosaki had. And yet, strangely different as well. While Uryuu was content to stand by and watch where his connection with Ichigo would take him, he had a more vested interest in the healer. He wanted to know more, to know what else was gliding beneath the surface of calm that was Yamada Hanatarou.

 

The Quincy waited, seconds stretching into beads of anxious sweat that trickled down his spine. The logical side of his brain recognized that not even half a minute had passed but that didn't stop him from believing it to be longer.

 

Hanatarou fidgeted and then lifted those very blue eyes. “Okay.”

 

And with one simple answer, one simple word, Uryuu's fate was sealed.

 

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