So this has been sitting in my writing folder for ages and ages and it isn't doing anyone any good in there so I'm posting it in here. Enjoy. :)

Rating: K+ or T (does "shit" still count as a swear word there days?)

Wooden Comb

Ikkaku was good with tools.

It had come in handy over the years, especially back when they were traveling. He considered it his main contribution to their small group back then, his ability to build with his hands, to create. It was an excuse to justify following Zaraki across the landscape from fight to fight, because why should Zaraki allow him to cut in on his fun if he couldn't be useful? So he built a secure sling of wood and cloth to carry Yachiru in when she was sleeping or ill or just too tired to hold onto Zaraki's shoulder anymore. It kept his hands free and could fold small when not being used. He built light packs to keep their previsions dry and clean, strong enough to keep their shape even while being abused in a sudden scuffle. He built fires that burned hot but virtually smokeless. He created blacksmith puzzles from carved wood and bone, bits of cloth and metal and anything else on hand to keep Yachiru occupied during downtime and out of everyone's hair (which in itself won him a permanent place in their little band).

His handiwork continued after becoming a shinigami. But most of his work was on a larger scale now. After becoming particularly irritated at a group of new recruits, who were pompous and deluded in their pride at being installed into the strongest division, Ikkaku (feeling he should teach them their place) spent a few days working with wood, metal, rope and various covert items kept well hidden.

The result was that the old obstacle course was now riddled with traps and surprises for the unsuspecting trainee. Sending the recruits through had the division roaring with laughter for days. His creation was also a favorite of Yachiru's, and so, was constantly in need of repair.

He had just finished with his latest round of fixes and modifications; with a few nasty surprises added to traumatize the next wave of recruits (he thought the taffy gun at the end was a nice touch. You couldn't let the rare smart-ass think too much of themselves after all and being chased around Seireitei by their child fukutaichou was the perfect remedy to an inflated ego), and was relaxing in the shade, kosode hanging around his waist.

He'd kept spare pieces of wood with good grain stashed off to the side while he worked and now he choose a piece at random to fiddle with. This was what he enjoyed the most, just picking up a chunk of wood and carving away at it to see what shape was inside. It was relaxing and he didn't have to think, just let the grain tell him what he was going to make.

Shortly after a screen across the training grounds slid open and Yumichika strolled out, a hand held up to shade his eyes as they adjusted to the light. Yachiru skipped out after him, zanpakutou bouncing on its wheels. He'd have to repair the axle soon, if she kept treating it like that. The zanpakutou was abandoned without thought when she spotted the obstacle course, all its pieces reassembled and back in place. In an instant she was bounding over and diving in, intent on discovering all the fun new traps and jags, shouting excitedly.

"I hope there's nothing too interesting in there," Yumichika called, smiling slyly. "There's a fukutaichou function of some sort tonight and I don't want to have to give her another bath. It makes my fingers wrinkly."

"She'll be fine," he replied, smirking. "There's nothing in there she can't handle."

Lavender eyes sparkled before turning their gaze back to the energetic girl he'd spent ages watching over. That had been Yumichika's useful purpose in their days wandering the districts of Rukongai. Being, as Zaraki put it, a "fruity bastard" he'd been assigned the domestic responsibilities. These included looking after Yachiru, feeding her, washing her, getting her to sleep, keeping her from running into the middle of fights. Surprisingly, she'd taken to him fairly well and even now she still listened to him to an extent. Ikkaku was sure that if anyone else (except Zaraki-taichou) tried to get her to wash her hands or eat her vegetables or (he shuddered to think) insist she didn't eat candy before meals that they'd end up with her head slammed between their eyes.

Looking down again he noticed that he'd unconsciously been shaving his chunk of wood into the shape of an ornamental comb. And, well, why not? The grain was suited to it and he was just messing around anyway. Really, now that he thought about it, he hadn't made anything delicate in ages; it would be a good way of practicing precision and technique. Especially the teeth which were so easy to break.

He'd only been working on this new shape for a few minutes when he felt another reiatsu enter the training grounds. Glancing up with his eyes only he recognized the fukutaichou of 9th division walking slowly but confidently toward Yumichika. He'd been wondering about that guy for a while now. Mainly how his friend had been able to beat him, by Taichou's remarks, so easily but had lost to that Shiba guy not too much earlier. Then again, Shiba had been one of Ichigo's party, hadn't he, so maybe it wasn't so strange that he'd lost. Still, for a 5th seat, even Yumichika, to beat a fukutaichou without even getting scuffed was definitely weird.

Dropping his knife in favor of a whittling blade Ikkaku continued to watch as the guy, Hisagi wasn't it, approached his friend. Yumichika was already turned to face his visitor and smiled lightly at the other's greeting, brushing a hand over one set of feathers and down his hair, replying in turn. As he continued to watch, Ikkaku couldn't help wondering what the conversation was about, why Hisagi had come in the first place. He watched as the idiot continued talking, looking like he felt a little more out of place every minute but persisting. Changing out for a smaller tool, he watched as Yumichika smiled flirtatiously, listening, then laughing, and damn it! What was he playing at with that idiot?

He started on the repetitive motion of carving out the teeth and thought in the back of his mind that in this mood he'd probably end up breaking one, then pushed the thought aside. Yumichika had turned and was watching Hisagi from the corner of his eyes, looking almost intrigued. The man's talking slowed and he paused a moment before taking something out of his sleeve and handing it toward Yumichika. Who laughed lightly and waved his hand as if he couldn't possibly accept the paper wrapped package, but really he'd never been able to refuse a gift. The paper fell away and there was the glow of something white and fragile shining in the sun and he saw Yumichika hesitate and blush.

Which was when he noticed the biting pain in his hand. Looking down, Ikkaku saw his fist wrapped tightly around the wood comb and uncurled his hand. It was rough and hardly half finished. The teeth were a little misshaped and too thick and on the handle was the half-formed shape of a bird with a flowing tail flying against a background of clouds. Turning it in his hands he wondered what the hell he'd been thinking.

Sighing he dropped the crude carving onto the pile of shavings he'd built up in creating it. He reached for his bag and began putting his tools away, each in its own pocket. He wasn't interested in seeing how Yumichika dealt with his new admirer.

"CANDYYYYYYYY!"

"SHIT!"

Yumichika was at a loss, not a usual occurrence in the slightest.

The afternoon had started out normally enough. He'd made sure Yachiru had eaten all of her lunch though it was obvious she was impatient to see if Ikkaku had finished with the course yet. He'd had her stay put while he looked over her Kanji practice from the night before and noted which still needed a little work. He'd waited for as long as he could without Yachiru becoming mutinous then announced that they might as well go see what Ikkaku was up to.

They'd found him sitting back on his haunches in the shade of a tree carving a small piece of wood, kosode falling around his waist. While Yachiru had immediately gone off to explore the newly completed obstacle course, Yumichika had exchanged some banter with his friend. He'd looked away after only a few words, not wanting to stare; Ikkaku really did have a beautifully toned physic.

Then Hisagi had come strolling in. Yumichika hadn't seen him, really, since they'd fought. Hadn't even thought of him in nearly as long. But he greeted him in his normal, flirtatious style because rudeness without reason was such an ugly thing and Hisagi was rather attractive in his way. And gradually he started to suspect where this conversation was going and waited, vaguely intrigued, to have his suspicions confirmed. And they had been confirmed in the form of a gift wrapped in paper which turned out to be a hair clip fashioned from mother-of-pearl. To keep his hair out of his face while he trained, Hisagi had said.

So, now he stood wondering what to say, feeling the heat in his cheeks and not liking that at all. He looked from the corner of his eyes, hoping to catch Ikkaku's attention so his friend would come over and make some rude comment about the idiocy of wearing something like that while fighting, saving him from having to blatantly refuse the gift as it was intended. But Ikkaku wasn't looking up. He was looking closely at something in his hands and seeming disappointed. Then he dropped whatever he had been examining to the ground.

"What do you think of it?" Yumichika looked up, startled, and tried to think quickly of a beautiful way to say he wasn't interested. After all, he'd beaten this man quite easily and his reaction to defeat hadn't been very graceful; he just wasn't intrigued by the 9th division fukutaichou anymore.

"Well, its lovely-" he started.

"CANDYYYYYYYY!"

"SHIT!"

Spinning around Yumichika saw Ikkaku leap up and hurtle over the obstacles separating him from their very pleased sounding fukutaichou. Using their outbursts as a good excuse to escape Hisagi's inquiry, he ran over to the tree Ikkaku had been sitting under to get a better look at what had happened. The sight that greeted him made him burst out laughing.

Yachiru hung from Ikkaku's fist, covered in what looked like glaring pink taffy, happily stuffing an entire hand into her mouth. Ikkaku stood with one arm outstretched, holding onto the small girl kicking her legs in pure, sugar induced joy and trying to shake off tendrils of the sticky candy from his other hand. Both activities made more difficult by the pink mess at his feet. The expression on his face making Yumichika double over in mirth.

Wiping a few stray tears from his eyes he caught a glimpse of a pile of wood shavings and found himself incredibly curious as to what Ikkaku had been looking at. Still laughing he reached out and took the largest piece off the pile. It turned out to be a half-finished carving, a decorative comb on closer inspection. Looking it over he saw that it was decorated with a bird of some kind flying against a cloudy backdrop. And he could tell (knowing a good bit about Ikkaku's methods having watched him work as often as possible, finding the contrast between his strength and the gentle motions of his hands as he carved to be breath taking) that had his friend been inclined to finish this piece it would have been more than lovely. He wondered idly why he had thrown it away.

His musings were cut short by the sound of Yachiru and Ikkaku's arguing voices coming closer. Standing up he watched the two approach and smiled ruefully. Ikkaku's bare chest had streaks of taffy running across it from trying to keep a hold of their fukutaichou. Ikkaku stopped a few feet away with a grunted curse as Yachiru started to gnaw at his head in retaliation, shifting his grip to try and pry her off. And because Yumichika was in such good mood and the sight of Ikkaku's chest covered in the sticky candy was just too good to pass up, he extended his hand and ran one finger across it. Bringing it up to his mouth he licked the sweat substance off.

"Didn't I tell you," he purred looking up into Ikkaku's startled expression "that I didn't want to bathe her again?"

And Hisagi watched forgotten in the background as his gift was abandoned to the ground in favor of a half carved piece of wood held securely in hand. Realizing - as he saw the way Yumichika looked at the other man, despite how ridiculous the situation was - that he'd lost this battle before he'd even begun to fight it.

.

end