Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ Sooner or Later ( Chapter 111 )

Title: Sooner or Later

Pairings: Shuuhei/Izuru

Rating: T

Warning: Light yaoi, spoilers for Kira's backstory

Words: 2313

Description: Izuru has found himself again. And it's about damn time. Vaguely refers to number 41, Not Quite Emo.

 

Dedication: For Nocturne 22, who wanted a Shuuhei/Kira

 

 

It is late, and the rain that drizzles down on top of his head only compounds on the misery that seems to hang over the whole of Seireitei. Nothing has been right since The Betrayal, as many have taken to calling it. Capital letters and everything. It is whispered and murmured; it is discussed. Always The Betrayal.

 

There are those it has affected more than others. And there are those who have barely noticed their absence, who only realize the outcome of The Betrayal by the reactions of those around them. Izuru is one of many who has felt the sting hit all too close to home. He still remembers Ichimaru-taichou. He sometimes sees flashes of his captain still sitting behind his desk.

 

Unlike the others, however, Izuru is not depressed. He is not moping, and he is certainly not spending days upon end missing his captain. No, Izuru is angry. He is training, and he is learning, and he is capitalizing on his own strengths.

 

Others are not so lucky. Others hide their pain much better, under a facade of bravado. And yet, even more simply succumb to the madness of their agony. Hinamori-chan will never be the same for Aizen's betrayal. She pretends to smile, and she tries, but the haunted look is still in her eyes. And she looks like death warmed over twice. A look no make-up from the living world can cover.

 

It is for that reason that Izuru is standing here at this moment, rain blowing across his back and soaking his clothes. It is a bit chilly, and he shivers, but he stands there determined nonetheless. One hand clutches Kotetsu-fukutaichou's famous brownies, the other knocks loudly on the door in front of him.

 

He doesn't think he can save Hinamori-chan. She is beyond his reach. And everyone is so busy trying to make sure that Izuru doesn't also succumb that they've missed who else might need their attention. Izuru is certain that he is fine, that he has found his own strength. In fact, in some ways he has rediscovered his courage.

 

It leads him to do things he might not have done before. To risk things he might not have gambled with prior to The Betrayal.

 

Izuru hears a muttered curse, and a familiar reiatsu washes to his senses. A bit frazzled and strained on the edges, lined with traces of pain and spilled blood. And yet, there is also the feeling of wind, which has grown colder in recent weeks. A hand fumbles at the door, and then, it slides open.

 

“Kira?” Hisagi-senpai blinks at him in surprise, brow furrowing.

 

Izuru, for his part, is momentarily speechless. It isn't so much that he hasn't seen the other man in a half-dressed state before, because he has, but there is something different about this time. Perhaps it is the knowledge of his partial reason for coming. Either way, the sight of him wearing only his hakama, bandages loosely bound around his bare upper body, makes Izuru's brain briefly turn white with lust. Or perhaps scarlet is the operative color here.

 

He wants.

 

“What are you doing here?” Shuuhei continues, voice jogging Izuru out of a brief fantasy that skitters across his brain.

 

Holding up the plate of brownies, Izuru offers his senpai what he considers a smile. “I heard you were injured,” he explains and hopes that he doesn't look as pathetic as he thinks he does, rain matting down his hair and making him appear drowned.

 

Shuuhei blinks. “I... okay.” He scratches at the back of his head with his free hand and steps aside, a casual invitation for Izuru to come within his quarters. A familiar location, but still, it feels a bit different for the blond this time around.

 

“I brought you something,” Izuru explains as he enters, his eyes flickering around the familiar arrangement of Hisagi-senpai's quarters. “And knowing you, I figured you haven't even been to the fourth yet.”

 

He catches Shuuhei's sheepish grin from the corner of his eye as he slides his door shut, closing them within the room. “It's not that serious of an injury.” He steps by Izuru and lowers himself back to the floor, amidst a pile of scattered papers.

 

Izuru looks askance at the documents, pretty sure he recognizes several of them. “You brought your paperwork home?” He is incredulous. But then again, he also has the benefit of Ise-fukutaichou's help for his.

 

“There's a lot,” Shuuhei replies shortly and then looks up at him as one hand mindlessly paws through the various papers. “Sit, Izuru. You know you're welcome.”

 

Setting the brownies off to the side, Izuru lowers himself to the floor, folding his legs beneath him. He frowns when he notices a reddish stain is beginning to spread across the side of Shuuhei's bandages. He sighs at the sight, Shuuhei barely noticing as he prods without interest at the stacks of paperwork, even more cumbersome since The Betrayal.

 

“You're bleeding,” he points out helpfully, realizing that he may also just be searching for conversation. And it feels so awkward where it usually doesn't, which is probably due to the fact he has something to say but doesn't know how.

 

Shuuhei predictably doesn't seem to notice. He never has, and Izuru is tired of waiting for him. He is glad for this recently discovered courage.

 

“Probably so, yeah,” the other vice-captain replies, one hand pressing cautiously to the wound at his side. “Damn Hollow got me when I wasn't looking. I was careless.”

 

“That's not like you,” Izuru comments and shifts around to get a better look at the wound. Sure enough, the evidence of claw marks peek through the makeshift wrappings, four perfectly spaced crimson lines.

 

Hisagi-senpai snorts, tone turning bitter. “I can probably think of a few other things that aren't.”

 

And the both of them know what he means. It doesn't even need words. The Betrayal hangs like a heavy pall in the air.

 

Daring to move closer, Izuru reaches for the hastily wrapped injury. “Let me take a look at it.”

 

Grunting his assent, Shuuhei shifts his position, showing Izuru his back. “That's right,” he murmurs as if suddenly recalling. “You were once in the fourth.”

 

“I was. Until tai-- until I was promoted to the third,” Izuru responds, somehow finding it taboo to speak of his former captain in this room.

 

Leaning his chin on his palm, balanced on one elbow, Shuuhei gradually relaxes under Izuru's careful touches. “Why did you leave?” he asks. A question that up until now hasn't been asked before.

 

Cautiously unwinding the bandages and revealing the gash in all its gruesome glory, Izuru idly shrugs. Shuuhei's familiar scent seems to surround him.

 

“There was an opening for the position.” He scrutinizes the extent of the injury. It is quite deep in several places, but as senpai has stated before, not life-threatening. “And I'd gone as far as I could under Unohana-taichou.”

 

It is quite ugly, he notices. Curling around Shuuhei's side and stretching across his back, nearly to his spine. It is almost as if the Hollow had tried to grab him, and Shuuhei had torn himself free from the claws with a violent twist. Wincing sympathetically, Izuru calls his reiatsu to his fingertips, easing a gentle warmth into Shuuhei's skin.

 

He hears Hisagi-senpai suck in a breath, shifting in discomfort. “Sorry,” Izuru murmurs, brow furrowing as he concentrates. “I am not as gentle as I used to be.”

 

“S'fine,” Shuuhei returns, free hand idly flipping at a few papers. He hasn't managed to look at or sign a single one since Izuru arrived. “Better than going to the fourth anyway.”

 

Izuru smiles faintly, amusement trickling through him. “You avoid it. Why?”

 

“Not it,” Shuuhei corrects, twitching slightly underneath Izuru's ministrations as the wounds begin to knit themselves closed. It's never a comfortable process, even from the most skilled of healers. “Unohana-taichou. She keeps insisting that I speak with someone. Anyone. She won't believe me when I say that I'm fine.”

 

“Sounds familiar.” Izuru breathes evenly as his reiatsu rises in the room, and he carefully blankets it over Shuuhei's back, enveloping the whole of the injury.

 

His senpai grunts in acknowledgment. “Is that why you came? Because you knew I wouldn't go to the fourth?”

 

“Partially,” he admits and swallows thickly as he tries to figure out how to word what he means to say. “For another reason, too.”

 

Shuuhei shifts, glancing over his shoulder with one dark eye full of concern. “Everything alright, Izuru?”

 

Sighing, the younger vice-captain shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Worry about yourself for once, Hisagi-senpai. You're the one who's actually injured here.”

 

“You know you don't have to stand on formalities when it's just us.”

 

Us.

 

Izuru likes the sound of that. It gives him a greater sense of spirit for a confession that has the potential to either destroy one of his most precious friendships. Or move it to the next level. Of course, Izuru prefers the latter.

 

Fighting back the heat that threatens to crawl into his cheeks, Izuru drops his hands, healing complete. “I know.” He shifts back to give Shuuhei some space. “It's just a habit that's hard to break.”

 

“So I've noticed.” Shuuhei reaches up, stretching both arms over his head as he tests Izuru's work. Bone pops, skin flexing over muscle, and Izuru swears that Shuuhei knows and is purposefully teasing him. “Thanks. It feels great.”

 

“Anytime,” Izuru says and inwardly curses when he realizes he has inadvertently let some of his desire into his tone. And though Shuuhei is one of the most oblivious men he knows, even his friend will be able to sense that.

 

Shuuhei turns, furrowing his brow and completely abandoning all sense of handling his paperwork. “You didn't answer me earlier. Everything alright?”

 

Izuru has come with the intention of making several things clear, his affection for Hisagi-senpai not the least of them. So when Shuuhei asks him again, he finds it all spilling out of him in a vaguely coherent manner. All carefully crafted speeches are thrown out the window because Izuru is just tired of it all. He's long moved on; it's time everyone else did, too.

 

“It's fine,” he says, and his voice carries a hint of urgency. “In fact, it's been fine. I'm fine.”

 

Shuuhei blinks. “Umm, okay,” he says, likely confused by the sudden repetition.

 

“I can stand on my own feet, you know,” Izuru adds with gaining confidence as he folds his hands over his knees, fingers tightening around them. “You don't have to be strong for me.”

 

“We know that--”

 

He shakes his head, interrupting Hisagi-senpai's response. “No, you don't,” he corrects, and a smile flits onto his lips. “But that's okay. Ichimaru is gone, and I'm fine. I'm not weak like everyone wants to think.”

 

Izuru is especially proud of himself for that statement. Managing to say his former captain's name with no hesitation. Managing to leave off the respectful title. Managing to say it all in passing as though Ichimaru no longer matters. After all, he doesn't. He's gone. He's abandoned them. And Izuru doesn't need him.

 

“Never thought you were,” Shuuhei replies and smiles himself, though his face is still filled with confusion. “Where is this coming from anyway? Did someone say something?”

 

Izuru shrugs. “We're in a war,” he explains, the truth only part of the reason he has decided enough is enough. “Time's short, and I'm tired of sitting around waiting for things to happen. I plan to go after what I want.”

 

“Like what?” Shuuhei's face pinches in confusion, as though trying to piece out just what it is Izuru desires.

 

His heart gives a careful leap of nervousness, though it doesn't show on Izuru's face. He just steadies himself and stares into Shuuhei's dark eyes.

 

“Like this,” the blond murmurs, and before he can convince himself not to, Izuru leans forward and captures Shuuhei's lips with his own.

 

Shuuhei stills in abrupt surprise, and Izuru takes it as a rejection. He has every intention to end it, until he feels the faintest movement against his mouth. Shuuhei is kissing him back, slow and tentative. Tasting faintly of sake and oranges, of all things.

 

And when he pulls back, surprise is etched into Shuuhei's features. “You...?” he begins but doesn't complete the question, as if he's not sure what he should be asking. Still, he doesn't look like he wants to punch Izuru in the face, and that's a welcome sight.

 

Izuru simply nods.

 

Shuuhei considers this. “How long?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

He thinks about it. “Maybe?”

 

Izuru looks at him and abruptly laughs. He can't help it. For all his intelligence and cool calm, Shuuhei can also be flustered, and that is amusing. It makes him more reachable, within Izuru's grasp, rather than on the outskirts of his range. It makes him touchable and not simply a senpai that Izuru can only admire and never obtain.

 

His laughter quiets, however, when Shuuhei curls his fingers around Izuru's face suddenly and pulls him into another kiss. He can feel Shuuhei's reiatsu like a rippling river just beneath the surface, still cold but also somehow soothed. Knowing one isn't alone can be a saving grace, Izuru understands this from experience.

 

And a part of him thinks briefly that The Betrayal is not completely terrible. For though it has brought him pain and anger, it has also helped him find something he hasn't had before. Something he might not have ever found with Ichimaru's hold on him.

 

He's found himself again.

 

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