Disclaimer:Bleach, its characters, and all its associated content is copyrighted, Kubo Tite. I do not own anything. I do, however, own this story that I am currently writing.
WARNING: This story will contain mature content, in the form of yaoi/shounen-ai/GAY couplings. Maybe a little FemxFem as well, and certainly a straight coupling somewhere... But not immediately. If you don't like this, read no further. If you do, despite this warning, and then leave a rude remark as a review, I WILL send my private group of fork-wielding ninja monkeys after you, laugh, then make rude gestures here in front of my monitor. )
(A/N: By Guthix, I SUCK at getting things in on time. But in all seriousness...
Schedules are evil. Yup. Yupyup. Although, if I get enough positive reviews, I might just make this into a regular update. I will admit, however, that that's a slim chance, as there isn't nearly enough Kajiura Yuki music out there to inspire me beyond a few more chapters.
...Or is there? Heh. I love messing with people.
Oh and uh, sorry for messing up the last chapter's chapter number. [Emoface Invasion] was supposed to be Chapter 2. I'm too lazy to change it though, so meh. And thanks for the support from those whose comments I've only just read. :D)
)---()[ --Visions of the World-- ()---(
Chapter Three:
(Fruits in Space)
Shifting perspectives: Ulquiorra to Ichigo)
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"Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi! What's this guy doin' here?"
... The hell are these guys...?
"I dunno, but he's on our turf. That means... ...Right?"
...Wait... he said he gets to do... what?
"Heh... yeah... Heheh..."
...Don't...
"Let's get'im, aniki."
Don't come any closer!
"Yeah... heh, we're going to have some fu--GMFFRAAH!"
"Aniki! That's it, you're... ngrr... NOT SO TOUGH NOW, EH?"
Get... OFF... ME!
"You asshole... Hold'im tight. Now we're going to have some, ngrf, real fun now."
STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! No, NO!
"This oughta' feel good..."
"NO!!"
...
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Sunday, November 26th, 2007 -- Late night
It took all the strength I had to keep myself from punching a new, structurally superfluous new behind for that Emoface. Not that I was particularly peeved, but most of the time when people called me a strawberry, they either followed up by laughing, or proceeding to engage in a pointless fight with me. A generally short temper usually results in me starting the fight with the former, or going duking it out until someone's unconscious with the latter.
I know better than to do that with an obviously emotionally-unstable individual sitting in a clinic bed with his only lifeline being a coat-rack with a plastic bag filled with blood connected to it, though.
Shortly after he had called me that, Yuzu came in and took the job of looking after the guy. The rest of the evening was nothing special; we had dinner, Dad being a general nincompoop as per usual, Karin looking tired of the antics, as usual, and me being generally quiet, as usual, except for the odd moment of deflecting a random, crazy attack from Dad.
As I lay in bed now, I think: Why the HELL can't I get Emoface out of my head?! Why do my thoughts keep drifting back to the eyes, the cheeks? It couldn't be... hormones? ... Is he a girl? Apart from the distant voice and otherwise masculine details, he certainly looks girly enough.
Y'know, I could probably go on one of those little zany adventures where I would go downstairs, try to peek and find him up, asleep, and check... but on television, those never end well. Ever.
...
...
...But this isn't television, I reason as I slip my legs off the bed.
I didn't bother with the sheets and I left my clothes on, so it was simple getting downstairs--I generally make racket as I get dressed, and everyone was asleep. As I get closer to the bottom of the stairs, I can tell that there's light bouncing off the walls into my field of vision. Thus, someone must be awake.
But who? I ask this of myself as I move into the main room. There's light coming from the kitchen, but not nearly enough for a ceiling light. Someone's raiding the fridge for midnight snacks, obviously. As I stand in the doorway, for a moment my heart skips as I see raven-black hair and a white gown. Then I realize it's Emoface, fingers dancing along the coatrack+blood that he brought with him. I watch for a moment, calming myself as I watch him tentatively reach around inside the fridge. Looking to the table and counters, I see no food. He must still be looking for something suitable to eat. I grin mentally, and sneak up on him. I'm wearing socks, so there is no noise, so he won't see it coming. I sneak my head right next to his, looking into the fridge for what he's reaching for. I see him moving stuff to get to the awesome dual-jug.
"So, craving more orange juice, eh?" Obviously he hadn't noticed me, because he nearly jumped out of his skin, quickly jerking his head to see my grinning face, and at the same time bumping his head hard on the top of the interior of the fridge. All the food shook. That musta' hurt. As he's pulling his head out from the fridge, Emoface jumps as one of the salami rolls disturbed by his head-to-fridge impact rolls out and lands right on top of his bare left foot. He then proceeds to step on it as he attempts to regain his footing, and flails a bit. Okay, 'a bit' is an exaggeration.
"Woah!" I say, moving to intercept his flailing, and subsequently tripping-over-self body, and a few moments later I find my hands full of Emo-chest. My first command to my body is that I resist the urge to squeeze them for effect, being able to already tell that he's OBVIOUSLY not a girl in disguise with just this. We're on the floor, and in a particularly awkward position.
It seemed that from my help, he regained his balance last-second, and instead landed on his knees, rather than falling face-flat on me. I can't tell if that's a blessing or not. However, instead, he's pretty much sitting right on my groin.
I can't tell if that's a blessing or not, from where my mind's going. As a side-note, he managed to keep his coatrack from falling over. That's good. On the downside, it knocked the fridge again, so various other foods and jars rolled out, landing harmlessly on the floor.
He's looking down at me, and I could swear I hit my head hard, because it looked like he was a bit frightened, taking a look at his eyes.
"Hey, what's the racket down here?" Oh... shit. That's Karin's voice.
"...Hey, what're you doing out of... ... Ichigo?"
Fuck. Me.
"The heck're you doin' down here? And what's with the... mess...? ... ... Nevermind."
Wait, what? I look at her incredulously, light from the fridge just barely outlining her in doorway.
"I didn't see anything. Good night."
WHAT THE FUCK?
...I should have known that this wouldn't have ended well. I bloody hell should have. I saw it coming. I did. And I did it anyways.
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Monday, November 27th, 2007 -- Morning
An awkward silence hangs around the table this morning as we eat breakfast. Even Emoface was there. He had enough blood back now, so his coatrack was disconnected. He was staring intently at the eggs, as though willing them to eat themselves for his amusement. Then his gaze shifted to me, and he notices that I'm looking at him, and quickly returns his gaze to the eggs. Was last night still bothering him? And what was with that face from then...?
Dad had noticed the awkward atmosphere only after a couple minutes of blathering away as he scarfed down his food. Karin was halfway through her food, but I noticed her gaze shifting to me or Emoface every now and again. I'm acting normal. Let's hope she thinks it was just a wierd dream. Yuzu's the last to breakfast, having been cooking for everybody and making lunches and such. She knows NOTHING. So she eats and then moves on. Probably thought that we were competing to who could be silent for the longest. Eventually, after I'm done, the phone rings. "I'll get it."
It's Keigo. How the hell did he get my number? "The hell you callin' me for?" I ask.
"Well, since yesterday we had that wierd school-on-sunday thing, we're told to take today off. So I was thinking that you, Mizuiro and I--"
"Yeah, thanks for telling me. Bye."
"WAI-" I hang up. I stretch, now a little energized by this good turn of events. Walking back to the table, Dad's gone. Dunno where. Probably to help Yuzu with something. I begin to sit back down.
"Ichigo, are you gay?" I blink, sitting right still. If one were to look now, they'd ask 'What's with the statue?'
"W-wHAT?" I sputter out incredulously. I can hardly believe the question I'm being asked.
"Well," Karin starts, "First you bring this guy," she pauses and points to Emoface, who in response stares intently at her finger, "...into the house, held in your arms bridal-style," oh shit, now Emoface is looking at me, "And last night, you two were uh... well, the closest that I can assume is that you two had a spat, he cut himself, you brought him home, and started having make-up sex last night." How the HELL would she know of this stuff?! And the fuck is with her imagination?! She closes her eyes, crossing her arms and nodding her head mock-knowingly. "Happens in fanfiction all the time. I suppose that's because it happens in reality."
...Ah, that likely explains it. My sister's a crack-yaoi-pairing-fangirl. Delightful.
And I have absolutely nothing to say back. My jaw's slack, and I'm just staring at her. Staring, kind of like Emoface right now, at the same time. I kind of just want her to look at our expressions and say, 'Or... maybe not.'
"...Well, whatever. Not my business to butt in." She... really didn't get it. "GochisÅsama." And just like that, she walks off. The hell has my day-off from school turned into? The hell has my LIFE turned into in the past day?!
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End-chapter notes: I myself am rather proud of this one. I can't help but shake the feeling that I imposed some out-of-character into Ichigo though. :[ Sucks to be him. Also, and I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help doing that with Karin. Because seriously, suicide-from-spat happens far too often in fanfics.