[Ficlet] - The Red-haired Fiend and the Young Master in Pink
BLEACH - Byakuya/Renji (pre-slash) - COMPLETE
[Summary]: The young master of the Kuchiki house is assaulted by a irritating red-haired fiend about a certain pink kimono.
[Story behind the story]: As per usual, my brain is more active than my hands and I found myself with a new story that I couldn't finish in time for Renji's birthday, that and a computer virus problem. But in the mean time, and because I wanted to have something to mark the date, I wrote this little snippet into the lives of Byakuya, the prepubescent, proud heir of the Kuchiki House and Renji, the servant of the little master and their adventures with a pink kimono.
[Notes]: For Renji's birthday, today (August 31st). The boys are supposed to have, more or less, 7-8 years old (for Renji) and 11-12 years old (for Byakuya)
[Characters]: Abarai Renji, Chiyo and Kuchiki Byakuya
[Genre/Theme]: Humour, Fluff
[Contents/Warnings]: none
[Rating]: G
[Done]: August.2008
[Beta]: not beta-read
[Word Count]: 1095
[Disclaimer]: Do not own Bleach and will not make a profit out of this fic. All characters © Kubo Tite; save a few OCs, product of my imagination.
The young master of the House of Kuchiki, Byakuya-sama, stepped out of his rooms into the sunlit, fragrant morning. He regally descended the three stone steps, coming to stand at the edge of his domains, taking in sight all that he ruled over; at his back, the massive Family house, symbol of all the might of his Clan.
He wore a traditional ceremony kimono in tones of Rose, where Salmon Pink fishes swam around trunks of Persian Rose trees and Coral flowers and the lush satin and silk showered by Amaranth leaves and Cerise petal patterns. His hair free in the morning breeze and a sense of absolute power and control over all things in this Kuchiki estate.
“HAHAHA!”
Apparently, not all things under his control, after all. Doubled over with laughter and pointing sticky fingers, the devil in grey came disturbing the peace to the young master’s calm and prosperous kingdom.
“HEHEHE, yer in pink!”
The obnoxious little red-haired demon, named Renji - the disturber, cracked the young master’s fantasies and make believes and shattered his reign with his boyish taunting.
“Yes, it’s pink!” Byakuya bit the bate. “What, do tell, is wrong with pink?” he demanded crossly, anger rising up making his hands ball at his sides, griping the flowing sleeves of the Rose kimono.
The mad laughter subsided into hiccupping giggles that seemed to have no end in sight and threatened to turn the face of the little laughing fiend as red as his fiery hair.
“’Tsa girly color, das whass ‘rong!” Renji finally managed to say, in between hiccups and giggles, a stitch away from splitting his sides with laughter. He even had the audacity of peacocking about, trying to mimic Byakuya’s grace and stance; prancing around with his chin held high and his back straight as a board, with his hands clasped together in front f his body as if wearing a long sleeved kimono.
He did look imposing, the young master conceded, but then again he was a Kuchiki house servant; Kuchiki house servants could put to shame ill-breaded children of lower Houses, any day.
Controlling his anger, Byakuya hmphed and set his shoulders and back straighter - as his grandfather always carried himself, a proud Kuchiki noble - and turned a sneering face at the young and somewhat uneducated boy, still mocking him with exaggerated movements and unnecessary arm waving.
“I’ll have you know that pink is a diluted shade of the color red you parade around in your hair and like so much. And anyway, Kyouraku-taichou wears a pink haori all the time. Have you ever seen a less girly man than him?”
At that, the boy stopped his show of impersonating the young master and looked up in doubt, his tongue in the gap between his teeth, in concentration, trying to refute that statement. Seemingly having reached no refute he nodded and changed the subject:
“Hmmm, so whass di…di…diluded?” Renji asked, interested.
Now, this boy resembled, somewhat more, the faithful squire, the sparing and train partner, the ever loyal companion of hours of joy, exploration and skylarking that Byakuya was accustomed to and not that jesting fiend that had possessed him before.
In a tutor-like voice, he enlighten the boy: “Diluted! It means not so bright, a color a few shades fainter.”
The still interested but somewhat fathomless expression in Renji’s face required further explanation. “Hmmm, ‘s why not keep t red if is di…di…whatever, of red?”
Byakuya felt like rolling his eyes at the stubbornness of Renji with the color red but abstained from such a mundane act and answered, if not a bit exasperated, “’cos I wear red all the time and, well, this kimono is for a special ceremony I am to attend as heir of the Kuchiki clan. And before you ask,” he alerted the boy, whose big eyes shone in anticipation, “no, you cannot attend. You’d find it too boring, anyway.”
“Like I’d want t’go ta silly party and eat yucky stuff and drink that bitter tea, like ta one ya gave me dat other day. Ya prolly made me wear pink, too.” Renji shrugged several times, trying to give an air of nonchalance. Apparently sensing he wasn’t succeeding, he stopped and looked up with an air of defiance and that crooked smile that always convinced the female staff of anything he wanted.
“’S ya’d still like and play with me if I ‘ad di…di...dilu...urgh… pink hair?” He beamed up at Byakuya, rocking on his heels with his hands behind his back.
It was Byakuya’s turn to shrug and look at his feet. “I like red better.”
“Cool!” Renji let out a large sigh of relieve and kept smiling dumbly. “’Cos I didn’t wanna have my hair pink.”
Byakuya let out a sigh of his own, a cultured and grownup sigh - he thought - and said to the boy, “Baka, I like you, regardless.”
Renji blushed but then the confused look from before took over the brightly colored face. “Whass ‘gardeless?”
It taught Byakuya right, to make friends with uneducated servants but he explained anyway in a way Renji should understand, “It doesn’t matter.”
The boy’s confused look was replaced by one of sulkiness and he turned his back on Byakuya (the cheek!) and stared mutely at the orchard; the usual realm of their adventures.
Byakuya’s anger returned and he exasperatingly left the stone step he was standing on and stomped towards Renji in a vision of pink across the fresh grass. He stopped by his side and explained:
“BAKA! It means ‘It doesn’t matter’!”
Renji blushed again, this time just a rosy tint to the sun-darkened skin, but seemed to recover from his pout and even the conquering smile made a shy appearance.
“’S dat means ya like me when it doesn’t matter.”
The silly phase seemed to make perfect sense to the red-haired fiend and this time Byakuya didn’t stop the roll of his eyes before he wearily breathed out. “You’re hopeless.”
“Whass ‘opeless?” Renji looked up at Byakuya, grinning and darted out into the orchard, zigzagging through the lime tree with Byakuya on his trail.
An austere voice called from the house, in a terrific tone, “Byakuya-sama! Do not run in ceremonial clothes. Come back this instant to finish the fitting proof. RENJI! If you like to run that much, use that speed and run to the kitchens to hasten Byakuya-sama’s meal. NOW BOYS!”
They both stopped in their tracks, instantly and answered in trained unison, “Yes, Chiyo-san.” And broke out laughing.
August2008©MarinLiliz
[Summary]: The young master of the Kuchiki house is assaulted by a irritating red-haired fiend about a certain pink kimono.
[Story behind the story]: As per usual, my brain is more active than my hands and I found myself with a new story that I couldn't finish in time for Renji's birthday, that and a computer virus problem. But in the mean time, and because I wanted to have something to mark the date, I wrote this little snippet into the lives of Byakuya, the prepubescent, proud heir of the Kuchiki House and Renji, the servant of the little master and their adventures with a pink kimono.
[Notes]: For Renji's birthday, today (August 31st). The boys are supposed to have, more or less, 7-8 years old (for Renji) and 11-12 years old (for Byakuya)
[Characters]: Abarai Renji, Chiyo and Kuchiki Byakuya
[Genre/Theme]: Humour, Fluff
[Contents/Warnings]: none
[Rating]: G
[Done]: August.2008
[Beta]: not beta-read
[Word Count]: 1095
[Disclaimer]: Do not own Bleach and will not make a profit out of this fic. All characters © Kubo Tite; save a few OCs, product of my imagination.
The young master of the House of Kuchiki, Byakuya-sama, stepped out of his rooms into the sunlit, fragrant morning. He regally descended the three stone steps, coming to stand at the edge of his domains, taking in sight all that he ruled over; at his back, the massive Family house, symbol of all the might of his Clan.
He wore a traditional ceremony kimono in tones of Rose, where Salmon Pink fishes swam around trunks of Persian Rose trees and Coral flowers and the lush satin and silk showered by Amaranth leaves and Cerise petal patterns. His hair free in the morning breeze and a sense of absolute power and control over all things in this Kuchiki estate.
“HAHAHA!”
Apparently, not all things under his control, after all. Doubled over with laughter and pointing sticky fingers, the devil in grey came disturbing the peace to the young master’s calm and prosperous kingdom.
“HEHEHE, yer in pink!”
The obnoxious little red-haired demon, named Renji - the disturber, cracked the young master’s fantasies and make believes and shattered his reign with his boyish taunting.
“Yes, it’s pink!” Byakuya bit the bate. “What, do tell, is wrong with pink?” he demanded crossly, anger rising up making his hands ball at his sides, griping the flowing sleeves of the Rose kimono.
The mad laughter subsided into hiccupping giggles that seemed to have no end in sight and threatened to turn the face of the little laughing fiend as red as his fiery hair.
“’Tsa girly color, das whass ‘rong!” Renji finally managed to say, in between hiccups and giggles, a stitch away from splitting his sides with laughter. He even had the audacity of peacocking about, trying to mimic Byakuya’s grace and stance; prancing around with his chin held high and his back straight as a board, with his hands clasped together in front f his body as if wearing a long sleeved kimono.
He did look imposing, the young master conceded, but then again he was a Kuchiki house servant; Kuchiki house servants could put to shame ill-breaded children of lower Houses, any day.
Controlling his anger, Byakuya hmphed and set his shoulders and back straighter - as his grandfather always carried himself, a proud Kuchiki noble - and turned a sneering face at the young and somewhat uneducated boy, still mocking him with exaggerated movements and unnecessary arm waving.
“I’ll have you know that pink is a diluted shade of the color red you parade around in your hair and like so much. And anyway, Kyouraku-taichou wears a pink haori all the time. Have you ever seen a less girly man than him?”
At that, the boy stopped his show of impersonating the young master and looked up in doubt, his tongue in the gap between his teeth, in concentration, trying to refute that statement. Seemingly having reached no refute he nodded and changed the subject:
“Hmmm, so whass di…di…diluded?” Renji asked, interested.
Now, this boy resembled, somewhat more, the faithful squire, the sparing and train partner, the ever loyal companion of hours of joy, exploration and skylarking that Byakuya was accustomed to and not that jesting fiend that had possessed him before.
In a tutor-like voice, he enlighten the boy: “Diluted! It means not so bright, a color a few shades fainter.”
The still interested but somewhat fathomless expression in Renji’s face required further explanation. “Hmmm, ‘s why not keep t red if is di…di…whatever, of red?”
Byakuya felt like rolling his eyes at the stubbornness of Renji with the color red but abstained from such a mundane act and answered, if not a bit exasperated, “’cos I wear red all the time and, well, this kimono is for a special ceremony I am to attend as heir of the Kuchiki clan. And before you ask,” he alerted the boy, whose big eyes shone in anticipation, “no, you cannot attend. You’d find it too boring, anyway.”
“Like I’d want t’go ta silly party and eat yucky stuff and drink that bitter tea, like ta one ya gave me dat other day. Ya prolly made me wear pink, too.” Renji shrugged several times, trying to give an air of nonchalance. Apparently sensing he wasn’t succeeding, he stopped and looked up with an air of defiance and that crooked smile that always convinced the female staff of anything he wanted.
“’S ya’d still like and play with me if I ‘ad di…di...dilu...urgh… pink hair?” He beamed up at Byakuya, rocking on his heels with his hands behind his back.
It was Byakuya’s turn to shrug and look at his feet. “I like red better.”
“Cool!” Renji let out a large sigh of relieve and kept smiling dumbly. “’Cos I didn’t wanna have my hair pink.”
Byakuya let out a sigh of his own, a cultured and grownup sigh - he thought - and said to the boy, “Baka, I like you, regardless.”
Renji blushed but then the confused look from before took over the brightly colored face. “Whass ‘gardeless?”
It taught Byakuya right, to make friends with uneducated servants but he explained anyway in a way Renji should understand, “It doesn’t matter.”
The boy’s confused look was replaced by one of sulkiness and he turned his back on Byakuya (the cheek!) and stared mutely at the orchard; the usual realm of their adventures.
Byakuya’s anger returned and he exasperatingly left the stone step he was standing on and stomped towards Renji in a vision of pink across the fresh grass. He stopped by his side and explained:
“BAKA! It means ‘It doesn’t matter’!”
Renji blushed again, this time just a rosy tint to the sun-darkened skin, but seemed to recover from his pout and even the conquering smile made a shy appearance.
“’S dat means ya like me when it doesn’t matter.”
The silly phase seemed to make perfect sense to the red-haired fiend and this time Byakuya didn’t stop the roll of his eyes before he wearily breathed out. “You’re hopeless.”
“Whass ‘opeless?” Renji looked up at Byakuya, grinning and darted out into the orchard, zigzagging through the lime tree with Byakuya on his trail.
An austere voice called from the house, in a terrific tone, “Byakuya-sama! Do not run in ceremonial clothes. Come back this instant to finish the fitting proof. RENJI! If you like to run that much, use that speed and run to the kitchens to hasten Byakuya-sama’s meal. NOW BOYS!”
They both stopped in their tracks, instantly and answered in trained unison, “Yes, Chiyo-san.” And broke out laughing.
August2008©MarinLiliz