I come bearing fanfic!
Killed two birds with one stone and got two drabbles done for the request meme. Both the_firefly and parsnip_chan asked for Kureno/Uo, so, as a result, they get two drabbles! Hope you both enjoy; while the drabbles are less personalized, I suppose, it's as though you're getting two for the price of one! Erm... maybe. I hope that you both like them. ^__^
That Which is Trivial
It was the little things that made him smile. In a world of darkness commanded by Akito, in a land where a god unseen clapped its hands over his eyes and submerged everything in shadow, life’s little subtleties were kept out of reach, placed so far away no cursed Sohma could ever hope to touch them. Kureno, whose arm remained perpetually extended before him, had been denied of the minutiae of the universe; it was why, he supposed, he’d insisted on buying so many vacuum sealed foodstuffs on the night he met her.
And then, of course, she had fatefully stumbled into his life.
Or rather, he had stumbled into her, and that one simple movement had peeled away the hands blocking his view and he could see.
And see he did.
And live he did.
He looked at Uo and light flooded his life. He watched her laugh, noticed the way her hair stuck to her face or how her legs bent when she ran, and it was a breath of fresh air to his strangled, stifled universe. He saw her for what she was and life’s little subtleties were revealed to him, each and every one rolled up into the shape of this young, energetic, hot-tempered, gorgeous woman.
She was everything to him, all that he could ever hope to see.
And that little fact alone could make him smile without fail.
~*~*~*~
Thwarted Antipathy
There was something about Kureno that made Uo very, very angry.
She had no reason to be so pissed at him, really. He was, she supposed, nice enough. He’d also followed her after she’d tried to run away from him… and he’d even almost kissed her, damn it! He was an all around good person, Kureno, and she knew it like she knew the sky was blue. He was good and sweet and kind and quiet…
…and he was any girl’s fantasy, was something out of a sappy, sweetly romantic dream.
So why, when she thought about him, did anger flare in her chest and threaten to consume her whole in its flames?
She didn’t quite know.
But maybe…
Maybe it was because he was so nice, and that kindness could be passed off as a guise that hid something dark or malicious.
Maybe it was because he’d followed her in the first place, and that had made her feel guilty about misjudging him.
Maybe it was because, when he’d leaned forward to kiss her, she’d felt weak and submissive, the exact opposite that any woman trained under the Red Butterfly should have felt.
Add all those together and maybe…
…she was in love with him…
When that thought crossed her mind, Uo groaned out loud. Love was something meant for flimsy paperback novels, things that could be read and thrown away without a second thought. It wasn’t real, and it wasn’t right; she should have been concentrating on other things instead of Kureno, like her friends or beating up Orangey.
But no.
Instead, when she thought about Kureno, she felt something flutter inside her, this strange fleeting feeling that was awkward and unfamiliar but so, so right.
It made her weak, that feeling, made her act like she never should.
It made her submissive, too, made her shy and effeminate.
And that was why, she eventually supposed, she got so mad whenever she thought about him.
She clenched her fists, enlightenment achieved.
She should have hated him for this.
But she already loved him like nothing else.
~*~*~*~
Also, I posted six fics at the "anonymous comment" meme that spread through the f-list like wildfire today (seven fics if you count the excerpt of orig!fic I wrote at fieryfaerie86's post - I might upload the whole thing sometime, once I muster up the strength to format it). I cleaned each of them up a bit and am now posting them here. Some are better than others, and none of them have official titles as of yet; however, depending on my attitudes toward them at a later date, I might post a few at FFN and spruce those up a little more before I send them through to The Pit.
The very first time Soi Fong had held the sword, she'd done so only in response to Yoruichi's incessant prodding, and even then she'd picked it up after much hesitation (not to mention after many friendly shoulder slaps from her mentor). The zanpakutou's distinct curve and design had appealed to her right away; it had moved airily, easily, when she'd swung it, and even now she can remember Yoruichi's deep chuckle at her enthusiasm.
"You and Suzumebachi... it's a perfect fit, Soi Fong."
That memory would have made her smile, had Soi Fong forgotten what had had to occur, what and who she would have to lose, to have it be hers forever more.
She'll still hesitate to pick Suzumebachi up even now, if only because even after all this time, she still feels unworthy of wielding Yoruichi's abandoned zanpakutou.
~*~*~*~
She is born strong, fighting her way Outside, with soft hands that will turn hard with training, a kind heart that will turn to stone with sadness. She is born crying - a sign of weakness, she will learn, something she will never, ever do again.
And then she sees the arrows in her brother's back, the sickle in her father's throat, and here are the tears, her years of experience crashing down on her.
Sango can only just feel her heart hardening.
~*~*~*~
Kagura’s life was no fairytale. While born an unfortunate maiden, she was by no means a damsel in distress. Though at the beck and call of a haughty, conniving relative, she felt no shred of sympathy or compassion for her parent, and was only filled with contempt and regret. There was no life-changing ball for her to run away to, no magic wands or murmured incantations, and certainly no prince to sweep her off her feet and woo her until her stomach went numb from all of the witty laughter she was forced to produce.
Kagura didn’t fall in love besides.
She was much too stubborn for that, and wasn’t she essentially heartless to begin with?
At the thought of a heart, she clutched her chest and cursed, wanting so badly to claw through the ghastly-colored fabric she was swathed in if only she had nails like a real demon’s. She felt childish for thinking this, but, seeing as it had only been months earlier that she’d crawled her way out of Naraku’s body and breathed the air she could control at will for the first time, it was becoming of her to do so. All she wanted was something tangible, something true, something she could sense on her own.
She wanted, more than anything in the world, to be able to point to something and say, “That’s mine, you can’t have it.”
Serving Naraku, she had nothing.
He liked to think of her as his peon.
She liked to think of him as good as dead.
And, wishing even more for sharp fingers and a heart that could pump blood out from flesh wounds, she held herself tighter, wondering why she even bothered anymore.
~*~*~*~
There is a connection between them that twists their hearts together, runs so strongly that not even near-death can sever it. Hitsugaya feels it, always has, much as he hates to admit it, and it bothers him that this niggling sensation in his chest refuses to go away, is not daunted by him when he grumbles and glares in its direction.
He likes to think that it's there because they were friends, are friends, there because he's known her for so, so long.
But Matsumoto always laughs behind her hands whenever she sees them together, mumbles things about how "Hinamori-fukutaichou is just too cute~~" and he simply knows this connection is something more.
It is strong and binding, powerful and twisting: again, not even near-death can sever it.
It is why, when he comes to after the end and meets Unohana's motherly gaze, her even voice telling him "Aizen's gone... nothing left to do," he snarls and rises in spite of his wounds, runs away to protect her from a wound she's already received.
It is why, when he is better but she isn't (and can't ever be), he visits her, everyday, listens to the irritating gurgle of the respirator she's hooked up to and fakes indifference, even though this strand in his heart is cutting into him harder.
It is why, when he looks at her, at this girl that's bleeding and fading and wasting away, he can hardly hold back the urge to clutch his chest, for this connection lasts through near-death and if she's dying, he is too.
Hitsugaya frowns at this, scowls in her general direction without meaning it one bit (he never, ever did mean it, he realizes in hindsight), and comes to terms far too late with the fact that this connection won't ever go away.
~*~*~*~
"You're just too adorable!" Matsumoto squealed, reaching out to play with her captain's tie, seemingly unaware of the vibrant (and, frankly, unhealthy-looking) color his face was turning.
Hitsugaya batted her hand away and turned, crossing his arms. "Don't touch that; it took forever to tie."
"'s why it's better not to wear one at all," Renji stated matter-of-factly as he made a lopsided pointing motion to his own chest, which showed an obscene amount of tattoo work revealed by the multiple buttons he'd chosen not to do.
"Really, Abarai-kun, that's perhaps the most unbeautiful way to express yourself in a... stifling uniform such as this." Yumichika said this with a serious expression, which prompted Ikkaku to squint his red-shadowed eyes in his direction. "Like yours is any saner, Yumichika. I mean, those eyebrows..."
"At least they're beautiful, Ikkaku-kun," he shot back, which, in Yumichika speak, was a resounding "shut up."
Ikkaku shut.
"Can we stop bickering and go into the school now?" Hitsugaya piped up, and four heads turned to look around briefly before they remembered to look down.
"Sure, fine, let's go squirt."
"What did you just call me?"
And so Ichigo's worst nightmare traipsed casually into the school, arguing amongst themselves all the way.
~*~*~*~
“Kagome-chan.”
The green-swathed girl turned at the sound of her friend’s voice behind her, tilting her head when she noticed Sango fiddling with her apron. “Sango-chan, what’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
Immediately Sango stiffened and raised her hands, waving them in the air and shaking her head so rapidly her hair flew like a whip behind her. “No no no, I’m okay!” (That, of course, meant she definitely wasn’t but that was beside the point.) “What I want to know… Kagome-chan have you noticed anything… different about houshi-sama lately?”
Oh, so that was it. Sango was thinking about Miroku, then. It was only to be expected; the taiji-ya was obviously madly in love with him. Obviously.
“Different? Um… no, I don’t think so.”
“He’s been distant, I think, and I… I don’t know why.” She wrapped her arms about herself, eyes softening. “I can’t help but think… I hope he’s… maybe he’s reconsidering…”
“Sango-chan, don’t talk like that! Miroku-sama wants to spend the rest of his life with you, I know it!”
Sango blinked at her friend; now it was her turn to tilt her head. “‘Spend his life’…? That wasn’t what I meant at all. I just noticed that he wasn’t groping me as much and wanted to see if you’d thought so too.”
“Oh…” Well there went that plan to get Sango and Miroku together. “Okay then, Sango-chan… um… maybe he isn’t…”
~*~*~*~
...well that was certainly tiring. Is it past my bedtime yet? My mom's already said that she misses her little daughter that was in bed by nine o'clock and asleep no later than ten. (Erm... that was her description of me all this week, as I'd be so jetlagged I couldn't stay up that late. XD)
That Which is Trivial
It was the little things that made him smile. In a world of darkness commanded by Akito, in a land where a god unseen clapped its hands over his eyes and submerged everything in shadow, life’s little subtleties were kept out of reach, placed so far away no cursed Sohma could ever hope to touch them. Kureno, whose arm remained perpetually extended before him, had been denied of the minutiae of the universe; it was why, he supposed, he’d insisted on buying so many vacuum sealed foodstuffs on the night he met her.
And then, of course, she had fatefully stumbled into his life.
Or rather, he had stumbled into her, and that one simple movement had peeled away the hands blocking his view and he could see.
And see he did.
And live he did.
He looked at Uo and light flooded his life. He watched her laugh, noticed the way her hair stuck to her face or how her legs bent when she ran, and it was a breath of fresh air to his strangled, stifled universe. He saw her for what she was and life’s little subtleties were revealed to him, each and every one rolled up into the shape of this young, energetic, hot-tempered, gorgeous woman.
She was everything to him, all that he could ever hope to see.
And that little fact alone could make him smile without fail.
~*~*~*~
Thwarted Antipathy
There was something about Kureno that made Uo very, very angry.
She had no reason to be so pissed at him, really. He was, she supposed, nice enough. He’d also followed her after she’d tried to run away from him… and he’d even almost kissed her, damn it! He was an all around good person, Kureno, and she knew it like she knew the sky was blue. He was good and sweet and kind and quiet…
…and he was any girl’s fantasy, was something out of a sappy, sweetly romantic dream.
So why, when she thought about him, did anger flare in her chest and threaten to consume her whole in its flames?
She didn’t quite know.
But maybe…
Maybe it was because he was so nice, and that kindness could be passed off as a guise that hid something dark or malicious.
Maybe it was because he’d followed her in the first place, and that had made her feel guilty about misjudging him.
Maybe it was because, when he’d leaned forward to kiss her, she’d felt weak and submissive, the exact opposite that any woman trained under the Red Butterfly should have felt.
Add all those together and maybe…
…she was in love with him…
When that thought crossed her mind, Uo groaned out loud. Love was something meant for flimsy paperback novels, things that could be read and thrown away without a second thought. It wasn’t real, and it wasn’t right; she should have been concentrating on other things instead of Kureno, like her friends or beating up Orangey.
But no.
Instead, when she thought about Kureno, she felt something flutter inside her, this strange fleeting feeling that was awkward and unfamiliar but so, so right.
It made her weak, that feeling, made her act like she never should.
It made her submissive, too, made her shy and effeminate.
And that was why, she eventually supposed, she got so mad whenever she thought about him.
She clenched her fists, enlightenment achieved.
She should have hated him for this.
But she already loved him like nothing else.
~*~*~*~
Also, I posted six fics at the "anonymous comment" meme that spread through the f-list like wildfire today (seven fics if you count the excerpt of orig!fic I wrote at fieryfaerie86's post - I might upload the whole thing sometime, once I muster up the strength to format it). I cleaned each of them up a bit and am now posting them here. Some are better than others, and none of them have official titles as of yet; however, depending on my attitudes toward them at a later date, I might post a few at FFN and spruce those up a little more before I send them through to The Pit.
The very first time Soi Fong had held the sword, she'd done so only in response to Yoruichi's incessant prodding, and even then she'd picked it up after much hesitation (not to mention after many friendly shoulder slaps from her mentor). The zanpakutou's distinct curve and design had appealed to her right away; it had moved airily, easily, when she'd swung it, and even now she can remember Yoruichi's deep chuckle at her enthusiasm.
"You and Suzumebachi... it's a perfect fit, Soi Fong."
That memory would have made her smile, had Soi Fong forgotten what had had to occur, what and who she would have to lose, to have it be hers forever more.
She'll still hesitate to pick Suzumebachi up even now, if only because even after all this time, she still feels unworthy of wielding Yoruichi's abandoned zanpakutou.
~*~*~*~
She is born strong, fighting her way Outside, with soft hands that will turn hard with training, a kind heart that will turn to stone with sadness. She is born crying - a sign of weakness, she will learn, something she will never, ever do again.
And then she sees the arrows in her brother's back, the sickle in her father's throat, and here are the tears, her years of experience crashing down on her.
Sango can only just feel her heart hardening.
~*~*~*~
Kagura’s life was no fairytale. While born an unfortunate maiden, she was by no means a damsel in distress. Though at the beck and call of a haughty, conniving relative, she felt no shred of sympathy or compassion for her parent, and was only filled with contempt and regret. There was no life-changing ball for her to run away to, no magic wands or murmured incantations, and certainly no prince to sweep her off her feet and woo her until her stomach went numb from all of the witty laughter she was forced to produce.
Kagura didn’t fall in love besides.
She was much too stubborn for that, and wasn’t she essentially heartless to begin with?
At the thought of a heart, she clutched her chest and cursed, wanting so badly to claw through the ghastly-colored fabric she was swathed in if only she had nails like a real demon’s. She felt childish for thinking this, but, seeing as it had only been months earlier that she’d crawled her way out of Naraku’s body and breathed the air she could control at will for the first time, it was becoming of her to do so. All she wanted was something tangible, something true, something she could sense on her own.
She wanted, more than anything in the world, to be able to point to something and say, “That’s mine, you can’t have it.”
Serving Naraku, she had nothing.
He liked to think of her as his peon.
She liked to think of him as good as dead.
And, wishing even more for sharp fingers and a heart that could pump blood out from flesh wounds, she held herself tighter, wondering why she even bothered anymore.
~*~*~*~
There is a connection between them that twists their hearts together, runs so strongly that not even near-death can sever it. Hitsugaya feels it, always has, much as he hates to admit it, and it bothers him that this niggling sensation in his chest refuses to go away, is not daunted by him when he grumbles and glares in its direction.
He likes to think that it's there because they were friends, are friends, there because he's known her for so, so long.
But Matsumoto always laughs behind her hands whenever she sees them together, mumbles things about how "Hinamori-fukutaichou is just too cute~~" and he simply knows this connection is something more.
It is strong and binding, powerful and twisting: again, not even near-death can sever it.
It is why, when he comes to after the end and meets Unohana's motherly gaze, her even voice telling him "Aizen's gone... nothing left to do," he snarls and rises in spite of his wounds, runs away to protect her from a wound she's already received.
It is why, when he is better but she isn't (and can't ever be), he visits her, everyday, listens to the irritating gurgle of the respirator she's hooked up to and fakes indifference, even though this strand in his heart is cutting into him harder.
It is why, when he looks at her, at this girl that's bleeding and fading and wasting away, he can hardly hold back the urge to clutch his chest, for this connection lasts through near-death and if she's dying, he is too.
Hitsugaya frowns at this, scowls in her general direction without meaning it one bit (he never, ever did mean it, he realizes in hindsight), and comes to terms far too late with the fact that this connection won't ever go away.
~*~*~*~
"You're just too adorable!" Matsumoto squealed, reaching out to play with her captain's tie, seemingly unaware of the vibrant (and, frankly, unhealthy-looking) color his face was turning.
Hitsugaya batted her hand away and turned, crossing his arms. "Don't touch that; it took forever to tie."
"'s why it's better not to wear one at all," Renji stated matter-of-factly as he made a lopsided pointing motion to his own chest, which showed an obscene amount of tattoo work revealed by the multiple buttons he'd chosen not to do.
"Really, Abarai-kun, that's perhaps the most unbeautiful way to express yourself in a... stifling uniform such as this." Yumichika said this with a serious expression, which prompted Ikkaku to squint his red-shadowed eyes in his direction. "Like yours is any saner, Yumichika. I mean, those eyebrows..."
"At least they're beautiful, Ikkaku-kun," he shot back, which, in Yumichika speak, was a resounding "shut up."
Ikkaku shut.
"Can we stop bickering and go into the school now?" Hitsugaya piped up, and four heads turned to look around briefly before they remembered to look down.
"Sure, fine, let's go squirt."
"What did you just call me?"
And so Ichigo's worst nightmare traipsed casually into the school, arguing amongst themselves all the way.
~*~*~*~
“Kagome-chan.”
The green-swathed girl turned at the sound of her friend’s voice behind her, tilting her head when she noticed Sango fiddling with her apron. “Sango-chan, what’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
Immediately Sango stiffened and raised her hands, waving them in the air and shaking her head so rapidly her hair flew like a whip behind her. “No no no, I’m okay!” (That, of course, meant she definitely wasn’t but that was beside the point.) “What I want to know… Kagome-chan have you noticed anything… different about houshi-sama lately?”
Oh, so that was it. Sango was thinking about Miroku, then. It was only to be expected; the taiji-ya was obviously madly in love with him. Obviously.
“Different? Um… no, I don’t think so.”
“He’s been distant, I think, and I… I don’t know why.” She wrapped her arms about herself, eyes softening. “I can’t help but think… I hope he’s… maybe he’s reconsidering…”
“Sango-chan, don’t talk like that! Miroku-sama wants to spend the rest of his life with you, I know it!”
Sango blinked at her friend; now it was her turn to tilt her head. “‘Spend his life’…? That wasn’t what I meant at all. I just noticed that he wasn’t groping me as much and wanted to see if you’d thought so too.”
“Oh…” Well there went that plan to get Sango and Miroku together. “Okay then, Sango-chan… um… maybe he isn’t…”
~*~*~*~
...well that was certainly tiring. Is it past my bedtime yet? My mom's already said that she misses her little daughter that was in bed by nine o'clock and asleep no later than ten. (Erm... that was her description of me all this week, as I'd be so jetlagged I couldn't stay up that late. XD)