Author: Mosh Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
| Ichigo stared at the muddy
footprint smudged across his windowsill. Outside, rain slanted down, pelting
the glass like a battalion of nails, obscuring the buildings opposite until
their blackened windows looked like giant, gaping mouths. "I gotta ring this one in." From behind Ichigo, Renji's communicator bleeped softly, static crackling and buzzing. "No, wait!" Ichigo spun around and dove for it, snatching the communicator out of Renji's hand. "Hang on a sec." He flicked the switch to 'off' and stared at Renji from under his eyebrows. "Do they really have to know about that? I mean, we're not finished yet. We'll get it." "Oy, give that back." Renji reached towards Ichigo with an outstretched palm and an unimpressed expression gracing his sharp features. Beckoning with his fingers impatiently, he let out a curt sigh. "C'mon, man, I've gotta report this. It's just protocol. Anyway, no one's gonna think bad of ya or anythin'." Protocol was one thing, but as far as Ichigo was concerned the mission wasn't yet over; the Hollow was still out there, wounded and more vulnerable. The next hit or two would finish it, Ichigo was sure. "We're not done, so why d'you have to contact Soul Society?" Letting out a second sigh, this one of plain exasperation, Renji glared at Ichigo. "I'll give ya a clue, shall I? Let's see if you can work this out for yourself. It's got somethin' to do with that gash on your shoulder, an' the cut on my hip, an' the shopping centre we almost destroyed just now." Renji shook his head. "All things I've gotta patch through, so I don't forget to put 'em in my report." Cowed by Renji's fierce red stare, Ichigo looked away. The only light in the room was from the street lamps outside the clinic, the mellow orange glow catching on half of Ichigo's room, leaving the rest immersed in shadow. It was getting late, the rain was falling harder, Ichigo's shoulder throbbed deep inside, the skin at the surface torn and bleeding, stinging as if hundreds of needles were being pushed into the wound. He could imagine Renji's injury wasn't faring much better. It wasn't the first time they'd been sent on reconnaissance together, but it was the first time they'd fucked up so badly. Ichigo scratched that thought and amended: he'd fucked up so badly. None of this was Renji's fault. The Hollow had been easy enough to track through the Karakura streets, its vast, loping form receding around corner after corner, slinking through the park like a monstrous insect. They'd finally chased it to the new shopping centre that was still under construction and unsafe for the public. At least there, Ichigo had thought, nobody would get hurt in the crossfire. Little had Ichigo and Renji known, the Hollow had been using the place as a nest, had traps set up, knew the underground levels better than they did. More surprising, it was only a Class 3 - Ichigo hadn't believed they were capable of such strategy. By the time they'd reached the lair, the realisation came too late that they'd been purposefully lured there, that the Hollow had enough mind to draw them to its sanctuary. The fight... had been a shambles, there was no two ways about it. If there was one thing Ichigo hated more than anything, it was running away from an opponent, especially one he knew he could beat. "Ichigo." Renji's voice cut through the silence. "Stop beating yourself up over it." Shaking his head, Ichigo turned around to once again look out the window. The rain hadn't abated, only seemed to attack harder, reminding Ichigo that the whole night was difficult, that even the elements were against them. Running was fine, but running while soaked to the bone, with robes constantly absorbing more water, was another story. "Don't call this in," he finally muttered. Then, with more determination, "I'll get stronger." The sensation of Renji stepping closer washed over Ichigo like a faint, warm breath. Ichigo figured either he was becoming more sensitive to others' reiatsu, or it was a result of his earlier adrenaline. "Maybe," Renji murmured, close to his ear. "But you'll never be as strong as me, you know." The fact that Renji was joking barely registered; it was an unwelcome jibe, right then. Ichigo turned, rounding on the other shinigami. With a hard shove to the centre of Renji's chest, Ichigo bit out, "This isn't funny, Renji! I almost got us kill – ack!" Perhaps the hit was on the side of too hard, or maybe Renji had simply let his guard down while in Ichigo's room. Whatever the case, as Renji started to topple backwards, he reached out lightning quick and grabbed a fistful of Ichigo's robe at the neck, abruptly cutting off Ichigo's sentence. Ichigo's bedroom floor rose fast to greet them, a harsh welcome. They landed in a heap of bloodied, bruised limbs, curses, and growls. "Fuck, Ichigo! What the hell are you playin' at?" Renji still had a tight hold on Ichigo's collar, stifling most of his air supply. If I could breathe I'd tell you, you bastard, Ichigo thought, shaping the words with his lips, but no sound coming out. It would be just Ichigo's luck to get strangled to death by his comrade, right after failing what should've been a simple, quick mission. "Re-n-j-" With all his might, Ichigo managed to free his hands and wrap his fingers around Renji's wrist to pry him off. Gasping loudly for air, Ichigo pushed Renji's arm down against the carpet, holding it there safely out of the way. "Gah, you almost suffocated me, idiot!" "Don't call me a fuckin' idiot, idiot – you were the one who pushed me." "Well, stop making this into some stupid rivalry joke!" "I was tryin' to lighten the mood, dolt. You looked like you were gonna start blubbering or somethin'." "I ain't one to blubber," Ichigo gritted, only now noticing how close Renji's scowling face was to his. The shoulder gash dripping blood down Ichigo's torso felt stretched in that position and he knew he was only making it worse, but now that he found himself chest to chest, hip to hip, and knee to knee with Renji, he could not move a muscle. Ichigo watched as Renji's face changed from indignant, to put-out, then to a slowly dawning revelation. Luckily, he didn't struggle further. Ichigo had a feeling it would be bad if either of them made any sudden moves, although the longer they remained where they were, semi-frozen in place on the floor, the heavier the silence grew, punctured only by the sounds of their breathing, faster than normal, and the violent pelt of rain outside. "Strength isn't just about force, man." Renji wasn't looking at him, his voice softer than usual but at the same time rougher. "There's also balance, an' observation, an' patience." These were things Ichigo knew he should already know. Hell, he did know them; as an acting substitute shinigami, he built a large chunk of his life around honing those skills. It was just... he'd never been unable to help out a friend in trouble. If it had been anyone but Renji trapped beneath that Hollow as its tail had come whipping down – if it'd been Ishida, or Chad, or Orihime – Ichigo wondered whether they would've got out alive. He wondered whether he would've watched one of his best friends die. Byakuya often called him headstrong and impulsive. They were arguments Renji and Rukia sometimes sprang on him, too. Ichigo knew he was quick to rush in, but more often than not he had good reason, like when there was danger, or the people and places he cared about were compromised. One thing Ichigo always trusted implicitly was instinct, no matter what trouble it'd got him into in the past. It wasn't that he wanted to defy the commands of others. Ichigo just knew, on an instinctual level, when he needed to swing his zanpakuto. That night had been the first time everything had gone terribly, irrevocably wrong. As Ichigo pondered this, Renji suddenly pushed himself up, flipping Ichigo over onto his back until their position was reversed. "So you fucked up – we all do it at some point," he pointed out, breath hot and spicy on Ichigo's chin. "I bet Byakuya doesn't fuck up." "Hrm," replied Renji, his mouth tilting up into a smirk. "All of us except Kuchiki-taichou, then." Managing a smile, Ichigo started to wonder if his instincts were a bit haywire after all. Pressed beneath Renji's solid weight, and the just as apparent weight of his lively aura, they were sending him all kinds of crazy signals. Not only that, but his senses were soaring in an unusual way, similar to when he was exerting himself in battle, or taking chase – definitely not the kind of reactions he should be getting from lying on the floor, not that lying on the floor under another guy was particularly normal. Renji was staring at Ichigo's torn robe sleeve, then silently inspected the welt engraved harshly on his skin beneath. Something in Renji's dark expression stole some of Ichigo's breath, his throat becoming tight, his pulse picking up. From a distance there was a shuddering thunderclap; lightning struck the sky, and for a split second everything looked inverted. Renji's skin lit up stark between his tattoos, his eyes shining intensely but almost black, his vibrant red ponytail hanging limp from the rain, caught like rivulets of blood running in frozen lines against his face. "Balance, observation, and patience, huh?" Ichigo said as the lightning faded, bathing them again in the faint orange street light. He cleared his throat, his words weaker than he'd intended. Nodding once resolutely, Renji seemed to get closer. He was now staring at Ichigo's mouth for some unknown reason. "Yeah, patience and observation gives you the chance to consider your options." "Considering stuff sometimes makes you back out, though," Ichigo told him. "I hate over-thinking." "That's 'cause there's only so much your one remaining brain cell can handle." "Very funny." "What d'you suggest, then, oh wise one?" Ichigo swallowed hard, at first unable to give Renji the answer that climbed up his throat. He wasn't sure if he should say it; there was a deep sense that if he did it would set a ball rolling, one he didn't think he'd be able to control. The answer was the very urge, however – there was no way Ichigo could stop himself from tilting his face up, opening his mouth to say, "Instinct. That's what it's all about. 'S what everything's about." Ichigo wasn't sure if the growl he heard was real or not, for at that moment another thunderclap barrelled across the sky, this one directly above the clinic. The building shook on its foundations – Ichigo could feel it beneath him, like the earth itself was resonating with the sky above. The weight of Renji's body no longer seemed so apparent, all of Ichigo's focus zoning onto the crush of Renji's mouth. The sudden scrape of a tooth against his lip drew a hiss from Ichigo's throat that was immediately drowned by the following moan. I did not just moan, he thought, resisting the irrational, hysterical urge to laugh. He could barely breathe let alone laugh, Renji's tongue in his mouth at once an alien experience and one that made Ichigo twist with arousal. Oh, bad – that was bad, that just made it all worse, all the more apparent! Somewhere at the back of his mind Ichigo was aware this was a kiss, of sorts – this strange, hard slide of lips and teeth, their chins grazing with day-old stubble, fierce breath beating against hyper-aware skin. Renji tasted bitter like blood and alive like the atmosphere surrounding a storm. Before Ichigo could contemplate all the lines and dips and rises of Renji's body, he found his lungs wrenching for air. Renji had pulled back suddenly. Mind whirling, Ichigo clutched Renji's sleeves as if he might fall, even though he was already on the ground. "That... that..." "We gotta job to do," Renji said, short of breath, too, by the sound of it. Pushing himself up, Renji sat back on his knees, staring down at Ichigo with something like regret, unless Ichigo was mistaken. "Ichigo, we've gotta get moving." "Yeah." Yet, he couldn't push aside the distinct lack of contact, of heat, that shivered over him. He couldn't quite ignore the tightness of his body, the winding throb low down. Renji was on his feet now, looking off to one side as Ichigo, too, rose. The rain beat down, and as much as Ichigo didn't fancy going back out in it, he did want to get moving, otherwise he knew he'd think too damn much on what had just happened, which would render him utterly useless in the mission. The mission they still had to complete. Stepping up onto Ichigo's bed, Renji reached over and slid open the window. As he climbed up onto the mud-speckled sill, he turned back to Ichigo. "I trust my instincts," he said quietly, framed against the orange glow and the slant of the rain. "But ya know, there are times when I know I have to be patient." Ichigo stared at him, unnerved and oddly elated at the same time. After a moment he let out a breath, of relief, of agreement, and a little of regret to give sound to Renji's earlier expression. "I think I can be patient, too." Hopping up onto his bed, he nudged Renji out into the night. "Let's go kick some ass." ~Fin~ |
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