baroqueworks | (no subject)

birthday fic

There is only one person in the world who genuinely scares Ikkaku.

Not in the holy-shit-I-think-I-just-wet-myself way or the my-god-that-is-one-creepy-motherfucker way or even in the I-hope-to-god-I'll-never-be-on-the-business-end-of-that-blade way. He scares Ikkaku in ways Ikkaku didn't know he could be scared.

There is exactly one person for whom Ikkaku would, if asked, quite literally bend over backwards for. Ikkaku worries about what that person thinks of him, frets that he might die too soon, worries that he's letting him down, would (and did) follow him from the edges of Rukongai to the center of Seireitei. There is one man whose badassitude Ikkaku constantly strives to emulate.

There is one man in all of Seireitei who Ikkaku can not lose and he is not Yumichika.

Kenpachi is the single most important person in Ikkaku's life, and it drives Yumichika up the wall to know that he got the position by handing Ikkaku's broken, bloody ass back to him on a silver plate. Granted, he stirred up his will to. Not die. Or something.

It drives him even crazier that Ikkaku is not, and never will be, as important to Kenpachi as he is to Yumichika himself. Ikkaku knows this and, selfish bastard, doesn't care. It's not about who's most important to who, or even if that importance is mutual; only that this man exists and that Ikkaku will follow him.

Blah blah blah.

It's terribly tragic and noble and even, on some levels, quite beautiful that any man would be so loyal to another, and it's not that Captain Zaraki isn't a great captain-- quite the opposite-- but. But.

Ikkaku's hand on his wrist, holding his sake cup steady as he pours, is what snaps Yumichika out of his quiet seething. The table is quiet; Ikkaku's about to speak. Their captain isn't present, but he's making sure Yachiru goes to bed and stays there, so Yumichika doesn't begrudge him one tiny bit.

"It's Yumichika's birthday today. Damn special day, ya think?"

Everyone cheers politely.

"We've been friends for. Hell if I know. Damn long time."

Ikkaku looks at him for a number, and Yumichika primly says, "At least a hundred years."

"Damn long time," Ikkaku repeats.

Everyone snickers.

"Alright, shut up. Shut up. Anyway. Yumichika!"

Matsumoto winks at him. Renji grins and raises his cup slightly. Ikkaku's hand just barely brushes the tips of his hair as it settles on his shoulder. "Me an' this here Zaraki Division-- especially me-- would be lost without ya."

Literally! Iba calls.

"I, Ikkaku."

"You what?"

"The Zaraki Division and I."

"Whatever. Here's to another damn long time." Ikkaku downs his drink and slams the cup onto the table. The rest of the division, and Matsumoto and Renji and Iba, do the same.

Yumichika thinks as the sake burns its way down his throat that even if he doesn't specifically have Ikkaku's loyalty and deep, all-consuming respect, his heartfelt gratitude would just have to do.