Ha. Check me out. I'm updating again.

Okay. This story was based on a comic that I saw by Linake on Deviant Art. It's not a straight translation of the comic. It has a bit of a build-up along with some extra added on to the end. Honestly, this sort of thing isn't something I'd think up on my own. I'm not sure why. It's just not.

I didn't realize it, but it's been just over a year since I started this series. How sad that it doesn't have any more pieces than this, but at least it's not dead.

Unlucky

Sometimes it was hard to be in the eleventh division.

It wasn't the things like the harsh training regimen or the frequently brutal sparring matches that made many of the members regular visitors to the fourth division. Those were things he could handle—things he rather enjoyed even. As far as he was concerned, you didn't belong in this division if you couldn't take a beating and drag your ass back for more.

That wasn't what made it hard.

Running down the hall at top speed, Ikkaku swore under his breath, cycling through every profanity he knew and starting over from the beginning when he ran out. How could he have let himself oversleep like that? He'd been dealing with this for far too long not to know better. There was just no excuse for it.

Trying to stop abruptly, he failed to overcome his forward momentum and ended up crashing into a door. Quickly he recovered himself and roughly grasped the door to pull it open.

It was locked.

A stream of whispered curses flowed from his mouth as he tried again to open the door, hoping that it was just stuck.

Nope. It was definitely locked.

Barking out one final curse, he sighed resignedly and leaned back against the wall just to the side of the door. There was nothing else that could be done about it. He would have to wait.

No, there were other reasons why life as a man of the eleventh could be difficult at times.

"Yumichika! It's been three hours! Get outta the bathroom!"

Reasons like Ayasegawa Yumichika.

His shouts received no answer, and the bald man glared murderously at the locked door as though hoping to force it open with the power of his mind. The door, however, stayed stubbornly shut, and he swore at his bad luck for not having managed to drag himself out of bed in time to beat the vain man into the bathroom. There was no telling how long it was going to take until he was sufficiently satisfied that he'd maximized his beauty for the day.

These were the times he wished that seated officers were given private washrooms instead of being forced to share them—granted, they had to share them amongst far fewer people than the rank and file of the divisions, but still! It was a luxury that had been allotted to Yachiru because she was the only female officer and almost the only female in the division at all. Zaraki-taicho also had his own bathroom, but that was an allowance given to him because he was the captain. Besides, no one would've been willing to challenge him for it even if he'd been meant to share it. That man was even more of an unholy terror than usual in the mornings.

He began to furiously bang his fists against the door, shouting, "I know you're just in there preenin', you narcissistic asshole!" Still he received no answer from the other side of the door.

With a grunt, he squeezed his legs tightly together, trying to ignore his full bladder. The pressure only seemed to increase, and he shifted in position, crossing his legs and groaning in discomfort.

Leaning against the door, he began scratching desperately at it. "Just give me two minutes," he pleaded in a voice that was noticeably higher pitched than normal. "…Please…?" The door remained silent and unsympathetic to his plight.

If it had been anyone else in there, he would have long ago kicked the door in and done his business, but this was Yumichika. Interrupting the fifth seat in the middle of his daily "beautification" ritual was only slightly less suicidal than getting in the way of Zaraki-taicho and a good fight. The last idiot who'd attempted it still hadn't been released from the infirmary.

Ikkaku whimpered as he hopped from foot to foot in front of the bathroom door, wincing slightly with each uncomfortable bounce.

"Hey, Baldy." He whipped around to see Yachiru standing behind him, wearing a quizzical expression. She looked like she'd just come from the bath, wearing a bathrobe and with her hair wrapped up in a damp towel. "I never saw that dance before. Who're you gonna fight?"

"Hngh…wh-what?" he asked as he continued to hop.

Just as the girl was about to ask again, there was a small click and the door finally opened. "You can have it now," said Yumichika as he stepped out.

With a joyful yelp, the bald man raced into the bathroom, leaping over Yachiru and shoving Yumichika roughly out of his way, slamming and locking it behind himself. "What ugly behavior," sniffed the other man disdainfully, shooting an annoyed look at the door as he pretended to dust himself off.

"Do you know what that dance Baldy was doing just a second ago was?" asked the girl curiously.

"What dance?"

"Right before you came out, he was doing this funny dance that I never saw before. Do you know what it was?"

One slender eyebrow rose in an unreadable expression. "What did it look like?"

"Like this," she said, demonstrating the movements as she'd seen the third seat perform them. "His face was all scrunched up like he was hurt of something too, but I didn't see any blood."

Yumichika nodded his head and smiled knowingly, chuckling lightly. "Yes, I know that one. I call it his Unlucky Dance."

Yeah, it's kind of a cheesy punch line, but I thought it was kind of funny. I need to stop writing stories like this or people will start thinking I have it out to torture Ikkaku. I don't. He just seems the most prone to comedic abuse.

Thank yous go out to KibaCanLickMe (I was doing better…until the pain came back last week. Life can be so unfair. Anyway, yes, fluff is good sometimes. Mostly, I was just a bit surprised how that chapter changed itself. The original version actually had a much more somber ending, but I didn't like it because it seemed so at odds with everything I'd been building up in the story.) and SithKnight-Galen (I wanted to write that story after seeing others that had Yachiru being afraid of thunder, and the idea of her sitting in Kenpachi's lap was too much for me to pass up. I don't really have any plans for Iba, but I do want to use him. He is a part of the group, after all.) for reviewing.