24 Chips - 7
Theme: 10:00
Title: Terms of Endearment
Fandom: Bleach
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.
Summary: Part 7 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.
The first time Hiyori ever called him "Baldy", it wasn't even intended to be something that stuck. Rather, she thought he was acting entirely too smug about his recent promotion into the Gotei-13 and that meant that Shinji needed to be taken down a peg or two. Especially seeing as she'd made it in too and it wasn't like he was the only damned one who graduated, honors or not. It took the both of them 3 years to do it, but whether it was 1 year, 3 years, or 8 years didn't really matter much to Hiyori. It just mattered that they were done. No more books and tests and idiot instructors who thought they were so damned smart even though they couldn't get a decent seated position.
Padding down the hallway on bare feet -- she never wore those damn sandals if she could avoid it, they chafed if she didn't wear socks -- the pigtailed girl stopped in front of one particular door that looked fairly identical to all the other doors if one didn't take notice of the numerous footprints and dents in it's polished wood.
"Oi! Shinji, open the damned door!"
She gave him the appropriate amount of wait-time -- all 10 seconds of it, she was really being fairly generous today -- before levering one small bare foot against the door and kicking it hard. Where most doors would have withstood the force, this one had obviously taken a beating from prior altercations with Sarugaki Hiyori's left foot, as the hinges squealed in protest and the latch slipped, heavy wood swinging open to bang into the wall as she simply walked in heedless of any protesting from the room's occupant.
"Quit being such a baby, it's not like there's anythin much for me to see, dumbass!"
Stalking across the room, she plopped down in the center of the futon cross-legged and crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl. The hell was he doing in there, getting ready for some damn beauty contest? The graduation ceremony was at 10AM and if he made them late… She gave him another 20 seconds or so before the trashcan impacted the back of his head. That’d teach him to take so fucking long when they were already going to be late.
Hiyori waited through the inevitable string of complaints from Shinji before she communicated his need to shut up with a sandal to the face. His sandal, but she didn’t really care about that at the moment.
“The hell is takin you so damn long, it’s not like ya hafta shave or anythin’ like that!”
Sitting back and recrossing her arms, scowl deepening, she resisted the urge to giggle at the somewhat horrified look on his face. Oh seriously. He couldn’t tell her he hadn’t expected that, at least to some degree. Or maybe he hadn’t, seeing as the next few words out of his mouth were an offended-sounding demand for an explanation.
“The hell is that supposed to mean, Hiyori?”
He really had no idea what she was getting at with the crack about him and shaving. Sure, he didn’t shave, but what concern of hers was it, seeing as not only was it his face, but he didn’t NEED to shave.
“It means ya don’t shave cuz you’re just a freakin’ baldy, that’s what!”
If Shinji could have spontaneously lost his grip on the ground and somehow managed to fall into a heap, he would likely have done it right now. “Baldy”?! How the hell did she get THAT one? He most certainly wasn’t bald - his hair was a damn sight nicer then hers, even though actually saying so would get him beaten even more - and Hiyori was at least usually accurate with her insults. Well, when it came to blatant facts -- like the fact that his hair was down almost to his waist now - she at least tended to stay within the realms of truth.
“What the hell do you mean, “baldy”?! I’ve got 3 damn feet of hair, Hiyori!”
He was cut off yet again by another blow to the head, this time her foot landing in his face. He should really tell her he had some sort of foot fetish one day, that would probably get her to quit it. Of course then he’d have to live with her turning THAT into an insult and Shinji was rather certain he’d prefer getting kicked daily to having the whole of Seireitei think he had some sort of weird fetish for toes. She laughed as he went about his usual task of putting his nose back where it belonged, standing there with her hands on her hips.
“My bad, freakin baldy. Your face got so close I thought it was some sorta ugly monster for a moment. And it don’t matter if you’ve got hair, your face is bald so you’re a baldy!”
Oh, well that was mature. And made about as much sense as the idea of Hiyori in a dress would have made. But telling her that just netted him another kick and a rather uncomfortable meeting with the wall as she then turned and walked out the door, declaring that if he wanted to be fucking late trying to shave his bald face, he could do it on his own. Picking himself up, he combed fingers through his hair with a sigh.
Great… somehow I think that one’s gonna stick for awhile…
Title: Terms of Endearment
Fandom: Bleach
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.
Summary: Part 7 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.
The first time Hiyori ever called him "Baldy", it wasn't even intended to be something that stuck. Rather, she thought he was acting entirely too smug about his recent promotion into the Gotei-13 and that meant that Shinji needed to be taken down a peg or two. Especially seeing as she'd made it in too and it wasn't like he was the only damned one who graduated, honors or not. It took the both of them 3 years to do it, but whether it was 1 year, 3 years, or 8 years didn't really matter much to Hiyori. It just mattered that they were done. No more books and tests and idiot instructors who thought they were so damned smart even though they couldn't get a decent seated position.
Padding down the hallway on bare feet -- she never wore those damn sandals if she could avoid it, they chafed if she didn't wear socks -- the pigtailed girl stopped in front of one particular door that looked fairly identical to all the other doors if one didn't take notice of the numerous footprints and dents in it's polished wood.
"Oi! Shinji, open the damned door!"
She gave him the appropriate amount of wait-time -- all 10 seconds of it, she was really being fairly generous today -- before levering one small bare foot against the door and kicking it hard. Where most doors would have withstood the force, this one had obviously taken a beating from prior altercations with Sarugaki Hiyori's left foot, as the hinges squealed in protest and the latch slipped, heavy wood swinging open to bang into the wall as she simply walked in heedless of any protesting from the room's occupant.
"Quit being such a baby, it's not like there's anythin much for me to see, dumbass!"
Stalking across the room, she plopped down in the center of the futon cross-legged and crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl. The hell was he doing in there, getting ready for some damn beauty contest? The graduation ceremony was at 10AM and if he made them late… She gave him another 20 seconds or so before the trashcan impacted the back of his head. That’d teach him to take so fucking long when they were already going to be late.
Hiyori waited through the inevitable string of complaints from Shinji before she communicated his need to shut up with a sandal to the face. His sandal, but she didn’t really care about that at the moment.
“The hell is takin you so damn long, it’s not like ya hafta shave or anythin’ like that!”
Sitting back and recrossing her arms, scowl deepening, she resisted the urge to giggle at the somewhat horrified look on his face. Oh seriously. He couldn’t tell her he hadn’t expected that, at least to some degree. Or maybe he hadn’t, seeing as the next few words out of his mouth were an offended-sounding demand for an explanation.
“The hell is that supposed to mean, Hiyori?”
He really had no idea what she was getting at with the crack about him and shaving. Sure, he didn’t shave, but what concern of hers was it, seeing as not only was it his face, but he didn’t NEED to shave.
“It means ya don’t shave cuz you’re just a freakin’ baldy, that’s what!”
If Shinji could have spontaneously lost his grip on the ground and somehow managed to fall into a heap, he would likely have done it right now. “Baldy”?! How the hell did she get THAT one? He most certainly wasn’t bald - his hair was a damn sight nicer then hers, even though actually saying so would get him beaten even more - and Hiyori was at least usually accurate with her insults. Well, when it came to blatant facts -- like the fact that his hair was down almost to his waist now - she at least tended to stay within the realms of truth.
“What the hell do you mean, “baldy”?! I’ve got 3 damn feet of hair, Hiyori!”
He was cut off yet again by another blow to the head, this time her foot landing in his face. He should really tell her he had some sort of foot fetish one day, that would probably get her to quit it. Of course then he’d have to live with her turning THAT into an insult and Shinji was rather certain he’d prefer getting kicked daily to having the whole of Seireitei think he had some sort of weird fetish for toes. She laughed as he went about his usual task of putting his nose back where it belonged, standing there with her hands on her hips.
“My bad, freakin baldy. Your face got so close I thought it was some sorta ugly monster for a moment. And it don’t matter if you’ve got hair, your face is bald so you’re a baldy!”
Oh, well that was mature. And made about as much sense as the idea of Hiyori in a dress would have made. But telling her that just netted him another kick and a rather uncomfortable meeting with the wall as she then turned and walked out the door, declaring that if he wanted to be fucking late trying to shave his bald face, he could do it on his own. Picking himself up, he combed fingers through his hair with a sigh.
Great… somehow I think that one’s gonna stick for awhile…