brass pt 6

[convault]

Brass
Series: Bleach
Characters: Ikkaku/Tatsuki; lots of others
notes

The sky was still clear when classes ended but by the time judo club was over and Tatsuki had finished changing into her uniform, it was raining hard. Most of the other students had probably checked the weather, and had an umbrella or jacket. She had stopped checking the weather when the rainy season ended. Great. Tatsuki swore and knelt under the awning in front of the school to rearrange her bag; cellphone, mp3-player towards the back, notebooks-- well, they'd be alright. Still, if the rain soaked through her bag, the water would need to get through an impenetrable plastic wall of binder and a cardboard notebook backup. All her electronics were tucked safely in the pocket closest to her back. The door opened behind her and bumped her impatiently in the side a few times; Tatsuki snarled (she wasn't done packing yet) and kicked it shut. Hard. She heard swearing from other side, and then the door opened again, this time resting against her side before whoever was behind it opened it all the way and knocked her on her ass. Ikkaku poked his head around and smirked. "Didn't know it was you." Tatsuki knew that was a blatant lie and told him so. He also wasn't technically enrolled, so Tatsuki asked him exactly what the hell he was doing in school. Ikkaku pulled a tiny umbrella from his back pocket. "It's gonna rain tomorrow, too. Keigo left his umbrella in class an' Yumichika wants it." His expression said, So I don't see why he couldn't come and get the goddamn umbrella himself, but all he did was pop it open and hold it out. "You going?" Tatsuki zipped up her backpack and eyed the umbrella. It was really, really small. "I'll be fine." "Don't be stupid. I'll walk ya home, and we'll both just be half wet."   Halfway to Tatsuki's house, both of them were soaked to the knees and all down one side; Ikkaku's left and Tatsuki all down her right. He was getting tired of leaning over, and left the umbrella to Tatsuki as he ducked out. She hit the button to shut the umbrella and handed it back. "If one of us gets wet, we all get wet. Judo club policy." "You'll get sick." "I'll be fine. Besides, so will you." They were both completely soaked when Tatsuki stopped under an overpass and wiped her face, then ran a hand through her hair. Ikkaku peeled off his shirt, wrung it out and put it back on. His undershirt was only slightly damp, and if he could help it, it would stay that way. "Ready to go back out?" Tatsuki asked. Ikkaku grinned. "Has ta happen eventually." They went back out. Ikkaku held a hand over Tatsuki's head until she swatted it away and told him to cut it out; it doesn't help and his arm would get tired, right? Ikkaku scoffed and told her it helped a little and she was so short his arm wouldn't have any trouble at all. She punched him into a wall. Well actually, Tatsuki just wanted him to double over a bit, but Ikkaku was a big guy and she might have hit him a lot harder than she usually hit Chizuru. And to be fair, he didn't slam into the wall hard enough to get hurt, and Tatsuki laughed as he peeled himself off the bricks. Ikkaku, in turn, twisted her arm behind her back with a move she taught him (bastard) and pinned her to the wall until she stopped snickering. She worried for a second that her shirt would get wet, what with white shirts being see-through when they got wet, but remembered that she was already soaked and it wouldn't matter anyway. "Okay, let me go. Seriously." He let her go, ruffled her hair and pulled her back out into the middle of the sidewalk, taking care to walk on the side closest to the street. They walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, blinking rain out of their eyes. Tatsuki nudged him in the side as they approached her house and pointed at a break in the clouds. "Now it stops." Ikkaku plucked at his shirt. "Mighta helped twenty minutes ago." "Wanna come in and change? I have some shirts that might fit you. Pants too." "Like, your dad's?" "No, like mine." She supposed it was a good thing she's had the judo club guys over a few times, and they had left some of their clothes at her house. The only people who went in and out of her room more than the club members were Orihime and herself. "Sure you got pants big enough?" "I have some really big pants." "Alright." Tatsuki's parents were still at work. He followed her upstairs to her room, was shut out for a few minutes while she changed, and toweled off while she dug through a closet ("Bathroom's down the hall on the right.") He peeled off his shirt in her room, probably completely oblivious to the implications it would have if her parents chose that moment to come home. He probably just wanted to show off his chest. And abs. And rock-hard biceps. And that awesome scar all down the left side of his torso-- Tatsuki threw a shirt and a pair of pants at his head. He went to the bathroom, changed and came back with the shirt slung over his shoulder and one hand with a fistful of denim, to keep the pants up. "Pants're a little big. Shirt's a little small." "That's my biggest one." Tatsuki tossed him a belt and caught the shirt as he tossed it back. "Didn't wanna stretch out the shoulders. This'll be fine." "It's cold out." "I'll be fine." He probably just wanted an excuse to walk down the street shirtless. Tatsuki ducked back into the closet, pulled out a big hoodie she hadn't worn in years, that smelled faintly of mothballs, and chucked it at him. "You're going back to Keigo's now?" "Yeah." "I'll get you a bag for your clothes." "Thanks." Ikkaku left her house with his wet clothes wrapped in a plastic bag, stuffed into a backpack slung over his shoulder and the umbrella sticking out of one of the back pockets of Tatsuki's jeans. He looked like a normal kid in denim and a hoodie, and the effect was really weird at worst and, at best, sort of endearing. Ikkaku looked almost normal, and also totally uncomfortable (like someone would ambush him if his bulging muscles weren't on display to scare them off). Halfway to the sidewalk, Ikkaku paused and turned around. "Hey, you busy Sunday?" "Only in the morning." "Feel like gettin' lunch? I'll get these," he made a vague gesture, "washed an' get 'em back to you then." He hadn't said, lunch with me and Yumichika, which he usually took care to specify. Ikkaku grinned and waited for her to mull it over. "Where?" "Café by the school. Judo practice in the morning, right?" "Sure." Yumichika intercepted Ikkaku at the door with, I didn't think you'd get caught in the rain, but you got back so late and-- why are your clothes different from this morning? Ikkaku explained in very few words exactly what happened and went to find a set of his own clothes. And shower. He dumped the wet clothes into his and Yumichika's laundry pile, grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom. Yumichika called after him that it was his turn to do laundry (by tomorrow afternoon) and Ikkaku replied with a quick handwave. He had been going through shirts pretty fast, and he'd stopped bothering with the school uniform so it would still be clean when he actually had to show up to class. Which would, hopefully, be a big fat never, but you can't be too careful. And policemen stopping him in the middle of the street to drag him off to Karakura High was a pain the ass-- Ikkaku came back still dripping, giving off steam with a towel around his waist and dumped Tatsuki's clothes into the laundry pile as well. Yumichika scolded him ("Don't just walk around in a towel, what if Mizuho sees?") but was summarily ignored. He went back to reading the Shounen Jump he had borrowed from Keigo while Ikkaku went through a duffel bag Yumichika had bought a few days ago. "... what happened to the shirts without sleeves?" "I only got you one. It's getting too cold out to walk around without sleeves." "I'll be fine!" "There's still only one!" Ikkaku grudgingly went with a normal tee and a pair of boxers. As long as Mizuho didn't decide to burst in on them, he wouldn't have anything to worry about. As long as she didn't. He went to find some pants. "Too bad you're not bigger, huh." Yumichika lowered his Shounen Jump and stared at Ikkaku. "Excuse me?" "So I can use your pants." "Your legs don't look good in them, anyway." Ikkaku shifted aside a stack of Yumichika's jeans slim down the leg and calf that he'd never fit into to get at the sweatpants underneath. It was better than nothing. Ikkaku spent the next morning at a 'coin laundry'. Where you could wash your clothes as long as you had enough hundred-yen coins to keep the machines fed. There were laundry machines in Seireitei, and he was no stranger to washing his own clothes, so he wasn't left flailing in the store. Still, he hadn't expected drying to take so long. As much as he disliked reading, he'd already skimmed through a whole stack of magazines from fashion to sports gear to hiking equipment. When the clothes finally finished, he loaded them back into two large duffel bags without bothering to fold them. If they wrinkled, that was just their damn luck-- no way in hell was he gonna be folding laundry out in public. He got them back to the Asano house before noon, and met up with Renji and Yumichika for lunch. Renji had been freeloading at Urahara's place, and had desperately called Yumichika the day before. It was so awkward living there. Training with Yasutora Sado was pretty fun, but when they had to eat and he was still hungry, asking for seconds was like slowly inserting a needle into his own eyeball. Repeatedly. They took him out for lunch. Ikkaku out of some weird sense of responsibility (it had only been a few months since his promotion, and Renji had spent decades as an excitable subordinate under his command), and Yumichika because he really did sort of pity him. Renji still felt like a newbie when he and Ikkaku spent time together. Hell, Yumichika too. He hadn't been able to drop the -san after either of their names, despite outranking them both as a lieutenant. He figured it came with knowing that Ikkaku could probably still wipe the floor with his sorry ass. (Though Renji knew on a certain level that he had a good chance of winning-- Zabimaru's final release would be more than a match for Hoozukimaru's shikai, but he had never seen Ikkaku's bankai. Just knowing it was there, and the memory of Ikkaku completely dominating him in just about every practice, was enough to maintain a healthy amount of respect and instinctual fear.) "So how's the situation with that Rukia-chan?" Ikkaku knew about Rukia and Ichigo. He had to. Ichigo had only blazed through Soul Society to save her. Renji's fists clenched and he silently cursed the other man for deliberately bringing up such a raw topic. But he never really was one to beat around sensitive topics, and Renji had wanted someone to talk to about it. And he hadn't had time to sit around with his division-mates while Soul Society recovered, either. He talked for a while and they listened. Renji was, despite all other indications, still Zaraki Division at heart. He couldn't bring himself to pour out his feelings and how much he'd struggled with himself over her execution-- and he missed this. He hadn't realized until joining the 11th that maybe sometimes he didn't want to talk about his feelings. Sometimes he just wanted to beat the shit out of something. Kira and Hinamori never could understand the way he dealt with problems, and if he wanted to talk, he didn't want advice or comfort-- just the affirmation that he would be fine, whatever he decided. Renji talked about absolutely nothing relevant, but wrapped up with, I think I know what I'm doing. Ikkaku paid for lunch and dragged Renji on patrol with them for a few hours.

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