I haven't written any fanfictions in a while. I always planned to write a second one to my name. More specifically, I planned to write a House, MD slash fanfic. But it never followed through. I hope to write that someday. But alas, this is not that day.
Out of the norm, I was looking through and realized that I had been writing a fanfiction in my head this whole time. And that is what this is. A Bleach fanfic, filling in the plot with some yaoi, of course. GinxKira, or "Ginzuru" if you will, a couple, any fan of it knows all to well, that gets stuck in your head and simply won't go away. Not just because there's tons of evidence (inside picture & poem of volume 15, anyone?), but probably also for unknown subconscious reasons. Thanks, Freud. Thanks. We really appreciate it.
As the summary says, this is indeed my own version of what happened between Kira, Hinamori, and Renji's graduation and the Seretei arc, mostly following Kira's issues. It's as accurate as I could possibly make it, time-wise, checking my facts with the poor summaries on Wikipedia and struggling to make sense of them. Also it has yaoi.
It is possibly to AVOID the yaoi, if you're the type of person (ie, straight guy) who is things that yaoi is gross and refuses to acknowledge its existence, then follow my notes that say "WARNING: YAOI AHEAD" and don't read that. It is NOT possible to avoid, however, the yaoi implications. Sorry. (No I'm not.) It's part of the story, and it's important.
Enjoy. And someone please fix Wikipedia.
It was deep into nightfall, the time when most of the Shinigami called it quits and headed inside. Training was no good in the dark, nor was patrolling, and if it was necessary to have any nighttime meetings, they would be held indoors anyway. But while his companions walked by, filing into their respective households, a seated officer of the Fifth Squad stood by in the shadows of a nearby alley. Izuru Kira combed his growing blonde hair out of an eye and looked skyward. He could see some of the stars, but the lamps on the northern towers blocked out much of their light. If he wanted to see them at full power, he would have to find somewhere darker and on higher ground. Though he didn't know the area all that well (and even less so when he couldn't see), the way Hinamori had described the beauty of the full moon made it worth the risk of getting lost. In worst situation, he could follow the lamps to the nearest housing. Now why Hinamori had been out on her own at night was a question on its own, but she had always been more adventurous than he was.
At last, when the crowds thinned out completely and the sound of moving feet was overpowered by the chirping crickets, Kira stepped out of the corner and surveyed the vicinity. A large building stood before him, which he easily leapt upon, and now squinted around the area for an even taller one. He did this several more times, each time looking up at the sky, but the lamps still blocked his view.
Finally, he stood before a tower high beyond the lights, far from where he started, and where he knew he could get a good view. But as he looked down he noticed there was a problem. The gap between the tower and the building he stood upon was far too wide to jump across. Below stretched a mass of black, which he could only assume was another alley, somewhere down there.
"Dammit," he muttered. He was very unwilling to plunge into the unknown abyss. Who knew how far down the alley was and what lay there? He knew he shouldn't have come here alone: years ago in their school days, he and his classmates had been attacked by hollows while unsupervised for a few minutes, only to be saved by the men who were now his Captain and Vice-Captain. But that was a lucky strike; he was doubtful it would happen again. He swallowed, thinking back on the moment when death was so near, and fear shivered through him again, as he looked down and imagined it happening once more. But to come so far and not go further was essentially pointless. What would Renji think if he found out? So slowly and carefully, Kira stepped towards the edge, held his breath, and jumped.
Even though he braced for the impact, it still came unexpectedly, and he lost his balance as soon as he tried to stand up. He put a hand on the wall behind him for leverage and scrambled back up again.
The silence was eerie: no crickets chirped here. He gazed upward to survey how high the climb would be, but saw neither the tower nor the place he had jumped down from. He would have to go around and find a different way up. He was beginning to regret doing this in the first place.
Footsteps from around the corner made him reach for the zanpaktou on his left hip. He held the handle tightly, fingering the cloth and the cool metal, ready to draw if needed . . .
He heard a swish from the right and drew just in time to block a blow from another's sword.
"Not bad, not bad," said a man's gruff voice. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Kira saw the owner of the sword, a large Shinigami with dark, frizzy hair and a beard. He was grinning menacingly, teeth bared, the white standing out in the darkness. "But let's see you block this one!" The Shinigami swung again, harder, and Kira struggled to keep it at bay. He didn't understand: why was this brute attacking him?
Kira sidestepped into the wall to dodge a third swing, and decided that he had to fight back.
"Raise your head, Wabisuke!" he called, and his normally straight zanpaktou now bent itself into a hook shape. He snapped back and deflected the Shinigami's fourth blow, pushing him slightly back. He hit the opponent's sword again, now feeling slightly more confident. Just a few more deflections and this guy would not be able to lift his katana, the fight would be over, and they could both walk away unscathed.
"Gah!"
Kira fell forward onto his knees as a hard, flat surface hit the base of his back. He looked up, gripping his zanpaktou defensively, and found, with a pang, that the Shinigami was not alone.
"What's a Fifth Squad twerp doing around Squad 11 territory at this time of night?" one of the others asked slyly, more to himself than to Kira. Either way, Kira didn't answer.
Another kick came to his ribs, and he spluttered, clutching his chest with his free hand. Yet another blow to his back made him fold over, face to the ground.
"Hey, punk, you wanna explain yourself?"
Kira still said nothing, but breathed loudly, holding so tightly to Wabisuke that his fingernails dug into his hand. What should I do? He was completely surrounded by the brutes from Squad 11; his only means of escaping were to immobilize all of them and then run off. That was, if he could still run by the time he had defeated them all. But he had to try. He swung his sword sideways as to clip the Shinigami closest to him; it met another sword and a loud clang echoed through the still night. He heard another sword come at him and met it as well, slowly getting himself to his feet along the way. Soon he was fending off almost all of group's swords, arm across his chest to protect his bruises, blocking swing after swing after swing, until finally, he heard the swords all clatter to the ground. Now they were too heavy to lift. Some of the other Shinigami cursed and grunted as they struggled to pick up their eight-fold heavier zanpaktous. Kira leaned against the wall behind him, clutching his ribs and trying to ignore the fact that his eyes were streaming from the pain and the fear. But now his fight was won; it was over and he could rest up a little bit before limping over to the sick wards of Squad Four. He smiled to himself as he though of retelling the night's events to his friends in the morning. He wiped his eyes on his shoulder, getting ready to go. Then--
Wham! He slipped off the wall sideways and dropped Wabisuke, the right side of his face burning. It seemed that the gang had abandoned their weapons and fell back to their own physical strength to continue the fight.
"Dammit, punk!" said the one with the beard, who had started the whole thing. "You broke - - my zan – paktou!" He laid a punch on Kira with every other word, the others soon joining in around him. Kira gasped for air, barely able to breathe in between each blow, trying to protect his face and vitals, but not before one of them hit into his eye and scraped across, digging in a deep, jagged line. He let out a loud cry and grasped it, staying low to the ground as he was pounded, and felt the blood seeping onto his hand and wetting his hair. He reached out across the dirt with his other hand, seeking his zanpaktou, but with no such luck. Finding no hope, he placed his forehead to the cold ground. What can I do? Only one idea that could help struck him, and he ran with it. Drawing in the last bit of fresh air, he let out a desperate scream.
It all stopped. The Squad 11 goons had halted their mad rampage suddenly. Kira used the precious time to find his sword, but could only hold it gently because of the paralyzing pain throughout his body. Once he sat still to listen, he heard what had made the gang stop: a familiar voice was echoing over the alleyway.
"What's this?" It said, almost mockingly. "A group-a Shinigami gangin' up 'pon one of their own? Now, that's not right."
The squad 11 members looked interestedly off towards the direction that the voice was coming from, obviously confused. A moment later, it spoke again, now in a softer yet darker tone. "Shoot him, Shinsou."
Almost at once a scream was let out by who Kira recognized as the frizzy-haired Shinigami. Something large fell and made the ground vibrate slightly. "Holy shit!" someone cried. "Daisuke! Hey, Daisuke, get up!"
"Let that be a warnin' ter all ya," said the bodiless voice fiercely.
Kira heard a crowd of people running in the opposite direction from the voice and then heard only one pair of feet walking slowly towards him. A hand fell upon his shoulder and he flinched.
"Oh good. Yer still alive."
Kira raised his head slowly, still holding tight to Wabisuke, and found himself looking at the silver-haired fox-face of Gin Ichimaru, his Vice-Captain. His stomach turned; was he in trouble for being out this late? But his Fukutaichou displayed no signs of anger, he simply held out a hand. Kira hesitated before taking it. His Vice-Captain's face had been to him both a source of comfort and fear. Fear because everyone knew that Ichimaru was powerful; comfort because many of the times he had come face-to-face with this man, Kira had been rescued from dire straits. At the moment, it was certainly comforting. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from his eye and took the offer. Gin pulled him to his feet quickly, and pain shot through every part of his sore and aching body. He let out a small cry and almost collapsed, but his Vice-Captain held him steady.
"Izuru Kira," he said matter-of-factly, "Ya always find a way ter get yerself inta trouble, doncha?"
Kira was surprised the Vice-Captain remembered his full name. Though he knew the question was rhetorical, he now felt compelled the answer and put in the strength to nod. Gin placed a gentle hand on Kira's wet hair and combed through it slowly. Kira closed his eyes. "Fukutaichou," he choked out, "I'm sorry."
"Fer what?" Gin said quizzically. "Ya put up a helluva good fight an' all. You were just outnumbered." Kira felt his other hand being lifted and noticed that Gin was examining Wabisuke. "Nice sword," he said. "What's the ability?"
"D-doubles the weight of wh-what it cuts," he mumbled.
"Ah, that explains why they left their zanpaktous," Gin said, smiling wider than he usually did. "Leaves fer good evidence. Easier ta get them arrested."
"Is…." Kira hesitated to ask about the Shinigami that he just noticed lying on the ground in a pool of dark liquid that was most likely blood. But Gin read his mind.
"Na, he's not dead," he shrugged. "Jus' paralyzed. We'll call fer the fourth squad one-a these days." He grinned wider again and for a moment Kira saw something wicked flicker across his face. Then it faded. "But the first priority is you, Izuru." Kira couldn't help but feel a little bit special after hearing those words. The gloried Vice-Captain, caring about him. Calling him by first-name. He felt his face grow hot involuntarily.
Gin moved his hand from Kira's onto his subordinate's cheek, surveying the damage done to his scratched-up face. "They beat into ya sumthin fierce."
"If. . ." Kira paused. He didn't want to admit weakness in front of such an authority, but he was displayed in his ultimate weakness already: sunken, broken, and torn. So he continued on. "If only I were stronger. . ."
"Do ya want to become stronger?"
"Yes." Kira took a tighter grip on Wabisuke.
"Well then," Gin said, sliding his hand finally down to rest on his subordinate's shoulder, "would you like me to train ya?"
"Yes!" Kira smiled weakly. "Would you really?"
It was extremely difficult to tell whether Ichimaru Fukutaichou was being serious or not in most cases, especially with a sarcastic smile always playing around his lips. But at those words, Kira saw sincerity. "Sure, I'll train ya," he said, shrugging as though it were nothing. "But first we gots ta get ya to the medical squad. No point in trainin' someone who's dead." He put an arm around Kira's waist to support him and with the other brought Kira's arm over his own shoulders. "Come, Izuru," he beckoned.
"Hai," Kira answered, and limped off slowly.