Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ Coming Out ( Chapter 107 )

Title: Coming Out

Pairings/Characters: Ichigo/Yumichika, Renji, Rukia, Orihime, Ikkaku, Iba, Kenpachi

Rating: T

Warning: Crack like woah, some OOCness, boys kissing boys, debatable humor, language

Words: 4364

Description: Who knew coming out of the closet was this damn hard.

 

- - - -

 

The realization hadn't come on the end of a bolt of lightning or with the flash of a light bulb. He hadn't suddenly been hit with a burst of inspiration or anything simple like that. Nope. In fact, it had descended rather slowly, laboriously seeping into his thought processes until it bubbled up in front of him. In the middle of a math lesson no less.

 

He sat there, idly tapping his eraser on his paper and only half-listening to the teacher, when the thought crept into his head. It knocked before entering, asked politely to come inside and then tip-toed around, as though making sure it had a place before closing the door behind it. Then, sitting back in the easy-chair and propping up its feet, the thought proceeded to make its case.

 

And what a valid case it made. Ichigo couldn't refute any point that the thought made. Considering himself a male who was capable of making a decision and sticking with it, Ichigo finally conceded to agree with that thought.

 

So it was in the middle of math class that Ichigo came to his realization. And the thought became reality, became truth, forming residence in his brain.

 

He, Kurosaki Ichigo and substitute Shinigami, was gay. Or if not gay then at least very, very repressed when it came to women. He couldn't help it. They made him uncomfortable. Especially happily naked and forward women like Yoruichi and Matsumoto, who could just be clothed from head to foot their entire lives and he wouldn't shed a damn tear. Not a one.

 

Once the revelation had made its home, it quickly pointed out that it had a friend it was inviting over for dinner. This new thought reminded him that he hadn't had a date since... well, he'd never had a date. It seemed kind of unimportant considering the whole fact that he had suddenly become a Shinigami, saved his newfound friend, and thrust himself into an entire war all without second thought. Therefore dating had been low on his priority list.

 

But Aizen had been quiet for some time. No doubt planning his next move. Everyone was training and practicing, gearing up for the battle to come. There wasn't much left to do but wait. Ichigo supposed he could take the time to find a date or two.

 

Or maybe he would begin with the more difficult task of telling his friends. Well, acquaintances really. It was too time-consuming to have friends.

 

A wadded up ball of paper chose that moment to fly by his nose and then promptly drop downwards to land on his desk. He looked down at it, glared, and then followed the trajectory back to Keigo. The other teen was giving him a big thumbs up and wiggling his eyebrows in the direction of Shizuka, the pretty girl on Ichigo's other side.

 

Keigo's aim was unimpressively off.

 

Curious, despite all his instincts that told him not to be, Ichigo unwound the crumpled ball to read it before passing it on. He sighed when he scanned the words and promptly tossed the wad to Shizuka.

 

“Do you like me?” the note had said. “Check one. Yes. No. Maybe. Signed, Keigo.”

 

Ichigo could have sworn they got over that back in elementary school.

 

Perhaps it was better he didn't tell anyone at all.

 

Unfortunately, a funny little thing called Fate really had it out for him.

 

- - -

 

Not but five hours after his inner revelation, Renji found Ichigo training in Urahara's basement. While that wasn't unusual, the look of earnest and determination on the vice-captain's face was. It was clear that he wasn't there to spar and practice but for another reason entirely.

 

“Oi, Ichigo!”

 

In the middle of annihilating a boulder with Getsuga Tenshou, Ichigo followed through with the swing and then dropped to the ground. Balancing Zangetsu's weight on one shoulder, he wiped at the sweat on his brow.

 

The teenager scowled at the interruption. “What?”

 

Renji shot him an annoyed glare. “Don't give me that, bastard. I gotta talk ta ya about somethin'.”

 

“Then make it quick. I've got stuff to do.”

 

The vice-captain looked on the verge of retorting but then visibly restrained himself, a first if Ichigo ever saw one. “I was thinkin' the other day, and me and the guys agree. We want ya ta decide.”

 

Ichigo blinked. “Decide? What the hell're you talking about?”

 

Shifting position, Renji gestured faintly. “Ya know. Ya need ta decide which one ya want so the rest of us can have a chance.”

 

Confusion replaced the irritation, and Zangetsu returned to Ichigo's back. “What?”

 

“Rukia or Orihime, man!” Renji demanded and gestured wildly. “Pick one! Or one of the rest of your fan club. It doesn't matter so long as you choose.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo demanded, remembering his realization of just a few hours earlier. “I don't want either of them.”

 

The vice-captain immediately grew indignant on their behalf. “Why? Ya tryin' ta say there's somethin' wrong with them?” He bristled and drew up to his full height that, with the addition of his high ponytail, towered a good bit over Ichigo.

 

“No,” Ichigo huffed. Clearly, his friend was not getting the point. “Just not... girls. No girls,” he emphasized.

 

“A'right. I follow you.” Renji paused and thumbed his chin, face taking on a definite sheen of thought. Really, a first for him. “Ya want a woman. I think Unohana-taichou is single. And there's always Yoruichi-san.”

 

Ichigo nearly choked on his own breath, the sudden urge to strangle rising up in him. “No!” he spluttered and forced himself not to reach for Renji's throat.

 

The redhead shrugged. “Well, I know it seems Urahara-san and Yoruichi-san have this thing goin' on, but they don't.” He nodded sagely, as though privy to some private information that Ichigo wasn't. “I know, I lived there.”

 

“You mean you freeloaded,” Ichigo corrected with a look.

 

“Bah, whatever!” Renji waved a hand, thankfully not flying off the handle and attacking the teen. “Decide man, we're getting desperate here!”

 

A growl of frustration escaped from Ichigo's lips before he could stop it “I'm gay!” he announced, hoping that his bluntness would finally seep through Renji's skull.

 

The declaration echoed through the geta-boushi's training grounds, probably loud enough for Urahara to hear upstairs and snicker quietly to himself. On the verge of panting like a madman, Ichigo eyed Renji, wondering if he got it now.

 

Renji blinked. “That's all well and good, but that doesn't help us,” he snapped, as if he were the one with the right to be angry. “Pick one!”

 

Working his jaw for several long moments, Ichigo finally whirled on his heels. “I give up!” he shouted and threw his hands into the air.

 

It was absolutely useless talking to Renji. He should have known that from the start. Ichigo ignored all other attempts by the redhead to speak with him and left to seek intelligent life. Perhaps in Hueco Mundo. At least Aizen seemed to have half a brain, even if he was evil incarnate.

 

- - -

 

The familiar sound of Rukia's Shinigami phone beeping filled the comfortable silence between them. It interrupted Rukia idly sipping on a juice box as she flipped through a magazine, still claiming research on the behavior of humans. Kon currently twitched beneath her left foot, murmurs of “Nee-san” bubbling up from the ground. Ichigo was in the midst of pretending to do his homework and contemplating how to tell her he was gay. And therefore wouldn't be falling in love with her no matter what Yuzu's manga said.

 

The device chirped again, reminding them that it wasn't prudent to ignore it, and Rukia snapped the magazine shut. She flipped open the phone, and sure enough, a Hollow's location was blinking on screen.

 

“Ichigo.”

 

He shoved back from his desk. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” One hand shifted to his pocket, reaching for his favorite method of soul expulsion.

 

Still sipping on her juice box, Rukia fished Kon out from under her foot. “Use this,” she said, waving the stuffed lion about as though he were some prize to be won. “It's what he's there for.”

 

Kon sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Help that idiot?” he complained, snubbing Ichigo. “I don't wanna.”

 

Ichigo shared the same feeling for once. “But--”

 

He was treated to one of Rukia's favorite looks, which that plainly said “You are an idiot, and I have been a Shinigami for longer than you. And I know better, so you had best listen to me. Or I will make your life far more difficult than it already is.”

 

He worked his jaw for several long moments before whirling on his heels, storming towards Kon. “Bitch,” was muttered under his breath as he reached for the stuffed lion, Kon immediately dancing out of his reach.

 

“Nope!” the mod soul called out in a childish tone, laughing and feet squeaking as he bounced around the room.

 

He led Ichigo into a fine chase, the teenager considering accidentally leaving him in plain sight of Yuzu as punishment. It was Rukia's impatience that ended the impromptu chase. She pinned Kon down with a firm heel and in the same motion caused the gikongan to pop right out, rolling across the floor. Beneath her glare and tapping feet of annoyance, Ichigo snapped it off the floor, dusted it off on his shirt, and popped it into his mouth.

 

Then, there was the familiar and discomfiting feeling of his body splitting in two. Warmth heading one way. Chill heading another. The well-known weight of Zangetsu on his back always helped to quell the strange sensations.

 

In seconds, he was left blinking at his own body, Kon doing some strange dance to situate himself inside. He always succeeded in making Ichigo look like an idiot, which annoyed him to no end. But before he could even say anything, Rukia was out of her gigai and perched in the window, preparing to leap out. If he didn't follow quickly, he would have to hear it.

 

They left Kon behind, the two of them sprinting out of Ichigo's window and onto the nearest rooftop. From there, bursts of shunpo took them towards the Hollow's location. And upon arrival, Ichigo was disappointed to see that it was nothing that would take more than one swipe of his zanpakutou. He had been hoping for a challenge.

 

Drawing to a halt on a nearby rooftop, the familiar roar of the Hollow filling his ears, Ichigo frowned. His hand settled on Zangetsu's hilt. It hit him that now was the perfect moment to attempt to reveal his thought to Rukia. Nonchalance was best, after all.

 

He didn't want to startle Rukia. She didn't take surprises too well. Remembering being bathed in sprayed juice of all flavors was not a memory he liked to relish.

 

Beside him, Rukia snapped her cell shut. “That's not so bad looking,” she said boredly, seeming as if she planned to return to her manga as soon as possible. “You should be able to get it with one hit.”

 

He had thought the same thing himself.

 

Wait.

 

He should be able to get it with one hit?

 

“Me?” he repeated, forehead pinching. Something was wrong with that picture, he just knew it. “Why don't you get it for once?”

 

She looked at him. And the expression in her face clearly said, “Why should I be the one to lift a finger, when you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself?”

 

And because he'd rather defeat the Hollow in one swipe and return to his house rather than spend all night arguing on the roof of some random building with her, Ichigo sighed.

 

“Fine,” he muttered, and from his position on the rooftop, he fired off a Getsuga Tenshou.

 

Which, in retrospect, was probably overkill. Still, it got the job done, and that was all that mattered. A quick scan of the area revealed that there were no more Hollows present.

 

“Too easy!” he declared, and turning back towards Rukia, he thumbed his nose. “And just so you know, I like guys.”

 

How was that for nonchalance?

 

She shrugged, flipping open her phone and obsessively scanning it again. “What do you want? Grimmjow?” Rukia asked flippantly and turned to head back towards the house, only to halt mid-step. “It's not like...” She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Wait. What?”

 

She was eying him with something that was suspiciously like sparkling eyes. Eyes that never spoke well for him, and he suddenly wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. Afraid for his life and possibly even his virtue, Ichigo backpedaled so quickly he nearly stepped right off the roof.

 

“Never mind,” he said quickly and disappeared in a flit of shunpo before she could catch him.

 

Perhaps telling Rukia was not such a good idea after all. Yet another failure to add to the list.

 

- - -

 

Orihime cornered him after school before he could so much as escape from... well, everyone. She bounced up to his side with a sparkling smile and suggested that they walk home together, despite the fact that they lived in two entirely different directions. He knew that he could say no, but then, she would get that disappointed look on her face, cover it up with a smile, only to make him feel like scum. So he saved himself the guilty conscience and agreed.

 

This meant that he actually ended up walking her home because Tatsuki would kick his ass if something happened to Orihime and he didn't prevent it. Which was an apt punishment because Shinigami or no, defeating Zaraki Kenpachi and all, Tatsuki could still take him down on a good day. And he wasn't in the mood for bruises. Especially not on his human body.

 

Ichigo was suddenly struck with the realization that he had somehow allowed all the females in his life to run roughshod over him. He didn't know when it had happened, or even how, but it was a trap he was no longer capable of escaping.

 

Beside him, Orihime hummed under her breath, in a pleasant mood as usual. “It's always nice to see everyone,” she commented brightly, skipping in place.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, idly wondering what Yuzu was making for dinner. And if he would even be able to eat it before a random Hollow attacked or Aizen decided he had been silent for too long.

 

Orihime shifted her books in her arms, from one side to the other. “I'm glad we could walk together,” she added cheerfully, her steps a constant cadence alongside his.

 

He responded with some noncommittal noise.

 

She continued unabated, “Because, you know, there's something I've been wanting to tell you, Kurosaki-kun.”

 

Ichigo abruptly ground to a halt, feeling a drop of sweat gather on his brow. He groaned internally.

 

`Oh, Kami... no.'

 

He whirled to face her, nearly startling the poor girl in his haste. “Inoue, before you even start, I have to tell you something,” he began, the suspicion that he already knew what she wanted to confess growing even stronger in him.

 

She blinked innocently up at him. “Whatever it is, I'll listen,” Orihime promised with a hint of hope, grey eyes practically shining.

 

Ichigo took a deep breath. Looked at her. Prayed she didn't burst into tears.

 

“Look at me,” he said. “I'm gay.”

 

“I'm happy, too!” she exclaimed, and with a squeal reaching decibels previously unknown to man, she tried to hug him.

 

He neatly sidestepped with a skill normally used for evading the attack of some gruesome Hollow. Or Keigo. Or his father.

 

“No, no. I mean, I like boys.”

 

“I do, too!” she countered, entirely unfazed. Her eyes grew big and round as though a new idea had suddenly struck her. “That's so great! Now, we have even more in common!”

 

Ichigo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was getting him nowhere. He needed an escape… and quickly.

 

Then, his pants vibrated. And he was struck with an idea.

 

“Right. Well, my badge is chirping. Have to go now. Bye!”

 

He was gone in a dash that Yoruichi would have been proud of and the closest thing to shunpo in a human body.

 

“Bye, Kurosaki-kun!” Orihime called out to him, waving happily with a big smile on her face as though she hadn't just tried to confess and failed miserably. “Let's talk about boys next time!”

 

If he could have moved any faster, he would have. He was only glad that he had managed to escape without being subjected to tears.

 

- - -

 

There they were, in the middle of a crowded no-name bar in one of the districts of Rukongai. A place that was a hefty mixture of safety and danger, which seemed to suit them just fine. Ichigo knew that before the night was through, one of his companions would be in a bar fight.

 

And then, everyone would be.

 

He had plans to sneak out long before that happened.

 

In any case, there they were. Bonding. Or so Ikkaku claimed when he dragged Ichigo along with him, forcing him out of training and into this. Bonding. Ichigo still couldn't figure out why it was so important that he attend, that he be there. With the self-proclaimed “thugs.”

 

Or why Izuru was there, for that matter, since he couldn't look intimidating, even if he tried. His eyes gave him away. They just cried out for someone to save him. Though Ichigo had the sneaky suspicion that Izuru was probably the most vicious of the entire lot, outside of Yumichika. Who, by the way, couldn't be present for the meeting of the thugs because he was babysitting as Iba had explained.

 

The raucous noise of the bar washed over Ichigo, and he tuned it out as effectively as he did Rukia's nagging. The smells were not so easily ignored. A mix of alcohol and feet and very bad breath. Compound that with many sweaty bodies, and his nose had the sudden wish to lose its senses.

 

Ichigo toyed with his drink and looked over at his friends, contemplating the appearance of his recent Thought and wondering if it would do any good to say something now. But then, he caught sight of Renji, a failed attempt already. And he saw more of the same caliber.

 

Oh, maybe Shuuhei would get it. Yumichika would have definitely. Possibly even Izuru, if he weren't so drunk. They shouldn't have plied him with so much alcohol.

 

Correction. They were still plying him with alcohol.

 

But as for the rest of the morons, Ichigo knew it wouldn't penetrate their thick skulls. It was like they had a filter for whatever wasn't breasts, food, fighting, or booze. And not necessarily in that order.

 

Even as he watched, Iba-san and Ikkaku were having a chopstick spar in the middle of the table. Ichigo didn't even know how they had gotten them since the bar they were in didn't serve any food beyond peanuts and pretzels.

 

Renji was trying to goad Izuru into having another drink… and succeeding, if the flush to Izuru's cheeks was any indication. And Shuuhei looked like he was pondering something devious and possibly pornographic as he eyed the busty waitress across the way. On second glance, she did bear suspicious resemblance to Matsumoto-san.

 

The horrors of unrequited lust, Ichigo supposed.

 

With a sigh, Ichigo reached for his orange juice. And oh, the indignity that produced. And kept his comments to himself.

 

No good coming out to these idiots.

 

- - -

 

A week after coming to the conclusion that he just didn't have any attraction to women, Ichigo was wandering around Soul Society. A man clinging to the end of his rope, he was considering drastic measures. Ridiculously drastic measures.

 

He decided the next man he saw, he was going to kiss. It didn't matter who. Well, except perhaps Kenpachi. Or Renji. Or Ikkaku and Iba. Or that drunk-guy who was friends with Ukitake-san. Or that fat-guy from the second.

 

Nevertheless, he was going to kiss a man today. Just so long as everyone understood from that point on just what he had been trying to say for the past seven days. And hopefully, whoever it was wouldn't take great offense. Ichigo really wasn't in the mood to fight anyone.

 

Taking a breath, Ichigo gathered up his determination and walked around a random corner, eyes already scanning. Only to immediately turn around and pretend that a sudden bout of blindness had attacked him. He didn't see anyone. Not one person.

 

“Honestly, fool. What did I create you for?”

 

“Apologies, Mayuri-sama. I shall endeavor to not fail you again.”

 

Ichigo quickly amended his “no kiss” list to include the freak from the twelfth.

And the teenager hid in the shadows, trying to curb the sense of nausea that attacked him, hoping that Kurotsuchi hadn't seen him. He wasn't that fucking desperate. When he said anyone, he meant anyone within reason.

 

He waited until the footsteps had long vanished, even going so far as to scan with his reiatsu. He was actually getting pretty good at it. Practice tended to do that. Not to mention the whole war with Aizen thing. It was sort of forcing him to work a bit harder.

 

Once he was certain Kurotsuchi was long gone, Ichigo steeled himself for another try. Alright, for real this time. He meant it. Whoever he saw. As long as it wasn't Kurotsuchi. Or all those other people.

 

Squaring his shoulders, Ichigo stepped into the path and turned the corner. Before he could even scan the corridor he ran smack dab into Ikkaku. Literally. Their heads struck with a resounding and rather painful bang, sending both Shinigami a few steps backwards.

 

Rubbing his forehead where he was certain a red mark would be appearing soon, Ichigo peered out through one eye and happened to catch sight of the bald Shinigami's companion. Yumichika, the first one he actually saw. Not a bad choice at all. One he could live with.

 

Yumichika sighed. “Honestly, Ikkaku,” he said, shaking his head. “You should watch-- Mmph.”

 

Mmph, indeed.

 

The fifth-seat didn't have a chance to continue his reprimand because Ichigo was kissing him, hands curled around his - ahem - beautiful face. And he had to admit to himself that he liked it, this kissing boys thing. He'd have to do it more often.

 

Ending the pretty much chaste kiss, Ichigo pulled back with a sense of smug satisfaction. “There,” he stated in accomplishment. “That should...”

 

His words trailed off when he realized that Yumichika was looking at him slyly. And then a smile appeared, slow and predatory. Hands, calloused from sword work despite repeated attempts at moisturizing, grabbed his shihakushou and jerking him forward for another kiss. This one was deeper and much, much steamier.

 

“Whoa!”

 

Ichigo vaguely heard Ikkaku's sound of surprise from somewhere beyond the lips pressed against his and the faint floral scent that seemed to surround Yumichika.

 

“Don't ya think ya should get a room?”

 

The two easily ignored the man, who eventually cursed and wandered away, only to run into his captain.

 

“Tch,” Kenpachi commented with a snort. “I fuckin' knew it.”

 

And then, they were drawing a crowd.

 

Somewhere beyond them, Iba gasped. “No way!” he said, adjusting his sunglasses just in case the dim shade was making him see guys kissing guys again. “Who knew?”

 

The eleventh division captain held up a hand. “I fuckin' knew it,” he repeated for the benefit of the new arrivals.

 

“What the hell?” Renji demanded and backpedaled several steps in his surprise.

 

“Why didn't you just say something, dammit?” Rukia added, hands on her hips in a very annoyed fashion.

 

Apparently, this was a very popular road for the Shinigami.

 

Off to the right, there was a pout of disappointment. “Well, that explains why you didn't want to see my breasts,” Matsumoto murmured, looking down at her envy-worthy and ample assets. She gave them a little bounce.

 

Nearby, noses spurted blood. Most notably Ikkaku and Renji.

 

She grinned. “Still got it.”

 

Hitsugaya eyed his relentless vice-captain with some measure of annoyance, that tic over his left eye getting worse and worse. “You mean that wasn't your first clue?” he muttered and rolled his eyes.

 

“Waiii!” Matsumoto threw her arms around her captain and promptly smothered him in her chest. “Taichou still loves me.”

 

“Urk.”

 

Ignoring the usual song and dance between the leaders of the tenth division, attention was returned to the pair. Who were still kissing.

 

Ikkaku scratched his chin and tipped his head to the side. “They're still goin',” he commented with a touch of awe. “I sorta thought people needed to breathe.”

 

“How naïve of you,” Matsumoto answered with a devious chuckle, finally releasing her captain from her death hold.

 

He promptly sucked in several breaths. “I'm going to be so gay,” Toushirou wheezed and wondered if it was still too late to switch vice-captains. He heard that Ukitake still needed one.

 

With another grunt, Kenpachi turned away, Yachiru kicking happily on his shoulder. Ikkaku followed his captain's exit with a confused expression.

 

“Where ya goin, taichou?”

 

Kenpachi waved a hand of dismissal. “Ain't got no interest in watchin' a pair of love birds go at it.”

 

His words seemed to urge the others into action. With a final glance towards the still kissing pair, they gathered crowd began to slowly disperse.

 

Only when the last person passed and they were alone again did the kiss stop, leaving both slightly breathless. There was an attractive flush high on Yumichika's cheeks whereas Ichigo looked somewhat dazed.

 

“Well,” the fifth-seat said with a pretty sparkle, smiling up at the substitute Shinigami. “You should have said something earlier.”

 

For his part, Ichigo showed remarkable restraint in not strangling his newfound boyfriend.

 

- - - - -

 

AN: *flails wildly* Well, it started out awesome. And then I lost steam. And then it dissolved into unadulterated crack with ooc-ness everywhere. Sorry. Still, I hope you found it amusing!