Dedicated to each of the wonderful shuukira members who contributed to the recent community fanwork exchange. :)
To express my gratitude, I’ve written a ShuuKira drabble for each participant; I know it’s not much, but it’s the least I could do – I felt like I had to do something, especially because my organizing the whole thing meant that I couldn’t participate and couldn’t give anyone anything (since I obviously couldn’t ask for a gift for myself). So here be fics for animationgrl, antha_aryn, arrankaara, barukode, calmingeffects, belledewinter, evergrnterrace, dizzy_grace, stark_black, theacidqueen, yakunitatanai, and Silver.
Just a few notes on the drabbles...
1) They’re all G to PG-13; all 200-300ish words (many sincere apologies to those who prefer R or NC-17. I haven’t really felt motivated to write smut content these days). You’ll find a mixture of humor and angst. They’ll go in alphabetical order by the recipients’ LJ usernames, with the exception of Silver, since we share an LJ account together anyway haha.
2) I’ve tried to follow your prompts as closely as possible, but I might have failed in some places, lol. Some of your prompts just inspired me with something that was close, but not quite exact.
3) As with my usual practice (and following general writing practices):
- If I write in Izuru’s perspective, I will use ‘Izuru and Hisagi’.
- If I write in Shuuhei’s perspective, I will use ‘Shuuhei and Kira’.
- I write in Renji’s perspective, too, in which case I will use ‘Kira and Hisagi’, since Renji calls them by those names in canon.
So no, it’s not me being inconsistent or indecisive; it’s just a way of following whose perspective the writing is in. XD
4) Lastly, disclaimer: not mine, otherwise this pairing would be canon (oh, I wish).
Prompt used: A tea break gone totally wrong
Renji looked at the scene in front of him, wide-eyed, before turning his head away quickly, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks.
‘Don’t tell me,’ he said quickly. ‘I don’t wanna know.’
Kira moaned in frustration; Renji could hear Hisagi sighing in obvious disapproval, too.
‘Honestly,’ the dark-haired lieutenant muttered in a low voice. ‘It’s not like we’re doing anything inappropriate.’
The redhead turned back and goggled at him in disbelief. ‘I walked in and you were stroking at Kira’s crotch with a napkin!!’
‘We were drinking tea, Abarai. I accidentally spilled my tea on his lap,’ Hisagi said evenly, the worn napkin flimsy and damp in his hand. He waved it, as if to make a point. ‘If you were thinking anything dirty, that’s hardly our fault.’
Renji ignored the napkin being waggled in his direction. ‘He was almost spread-eagled and he was panting and moaning.’
‘In pain, Abarai,’ the dark-haired lieutenant answered, sounding surprisingly patient; he turned away from the redhead and began dabbing at Kira’s lap again. ‘You would, too, if you had all this hot water spilled on you.’
Kira’s eyes were shut tight; he tilted his head back slowly and panted and hissed through his teeth, and Renji had no way of telling whether or not it was truthfully out of pain. He felt his face go warm in embarrassment.
‘Would you mind?’ he groaned through clenched teeth.
Hisagi looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and started stroking harder. ‘If you think you can do better, would you like to do it in my stead?’
Another moan cut through the air, and Renji clapped his hands over his ears and shook his head fiercely. ‘You did not just say that to me.’
The dark-haired lieutenant rolled his eyes. ‘You do realize, if I was really giving Kira what you think I’m giving him, I wouldn’t bother with a napkin. I’d use my bare hands.’
The redhead ran out of the house with his fingers in his ears, yelling in trauma all the way.
If he ever visited them during their tea break again, it’d be too soon.
Notes: A ‘what if’ scenario, in which I unashamedly mess around with canon. XD All the stuff Kira talks about here is taken from the bonus Shinigami Academy chapter of the manga, as well as Kubo’s character data book.
Prompt used: Academy days
Renji blinked at the gushing of the students around them.
‘What,’ he whispered in Kira’s ear, eyeing the three upperclassmen standing at the front, ‘are those senpai famous or something?’
Kira whirled around and gave the redhead an expression that resembled a mixture of alarm and disbelief.
‘You mean you don’t know? It’s not “those senpai”. It’s the one standing in the middle,’ he stated; Renji couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the way the blond sounded like he was stating the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Hisagi Shuuhei. He’s the first guy in years to be pre-admitted to the Gotei 13 before he even graduates. It’s said that they’ve already reserved an officer position for him!’
Renji scratched his head. ‘Oh.’
‘Rumors are that he has special potential to serve as a news editor for shinigami media, too,’ Kira went on, his eyes gleaming in obvious admiration. ‘He must be so talented.’
The blond didn’t even look like he was talking to the redhead anymore; his expression was slightly distant, his cheeks slightly pink, and it was almost as if he was just rambling by himself.
‘They say he’s also good at cooking, and that he loves hot dogs, you know. Hot dogs. That’s pretty cute, don’t you think? And he has some kind of interest in playing music, I think – I don’t know what he plays, but he certainly looks like he’d be cool in a band. It’s no wonder so many girls are interested in him even though it’s quite obvious that he’s almost always completely out of their league, he’s really exceptionally suave and smooth and good-looking—’
Renji is hardly surprised when Hisagi Shuuhei mentions receiving a strange love letter from a secret admirer several weeks later.
Prompt used: Your scarlet lips
I was always afraid that, when I leaned over you close enough to see each of your eyelashes, you would wake up from your sleep and see me.
There were times when I’d touched you as you slept. I’d pressed my fingertips against the scars you bear on your face, the scars that proved that you’re alive; I’d brushed the thin strands of hair out of your eyes; I’d run my lips, just barely, lightly, across the back of your hand. Each time, I didn’t know whether or not I wanted you to awaken from my touch. You never did. You’d only smiled at me in the mornings, bright and tranquil and always mild.
Kira, you’d call my name; you’d always said my name in the same way, in all these years.
On those nights that I lay by you, when the pale grey half-light from the windows touched at your skin, when your scarlet lips were still and slightly open and your warm breath was quiet, I always watched you and wondered if you’d ever watched me, too, as I slept. I wondered if I looked the way you do in my slumber, if I was just as calm and peaceful and tender. I wondered if you’d ever reached out and touched me.
Maybe you don’t know how, every time you ask me to stay the night, I can always hear my own heart beating.
Maybe one day, you’ll wake up and you’ll see me, and you’d understand what I don’t have the courage to say.
Prompt used: Camping
Kira winces under even a simple feather-light touch.
‘I’m sorry,’ Shuuhei says under his breath.
The blond shakes his head. ‘No, Hisagi-san,’ he answers. ‘Not at all.’
The night is cold and silent. Shuuhei looks at him, just sitting there underneath the long, dark branches, almost untouched by the pale moonlight; he is quiet and mild, remaining within the shadows, his gaze fixed upon the ground. Thick redness drips from his hair, seeps into his uniform. The dry leaves crinkle beneath him when he stirs.
‘You’re beautiful,’ the dark-haired lieutenant can’t help but tell him, despite everything.
The corners of Kira’s mouth shakily turns upwards just a little. ‘I look awful. I’m dirty and I’m bleeding everywhere.’
Even in the dark, Shuuhei can see the faint tremor in the blond’s shoulders. Wabisuke is still lying idly underneath the thin knuckles. The dark-haired shinigami sighs; he lifts up the moistened fabric in his hand and continues dabbing lightly at the wounds on Kira’s arms. It must have been an intense battle, but with the blanket of muted quietness covering them, no one would have been able to tell. He can almost hear his own heartbeat in the silence.
You’re even more beautiful.
Shuuhei looks up in slight surprise – Kira is looking back at him now, still with his tender barely-there smile and tired eyes. The leaves rustle lightly in the boughs above them. Shuuhei can’t tell whether it’s their calm whispers that he’d heard, or whether that had been his imagination; or whether it's really the shinigami in front of him who’d uttered the soft words.
Their fingertips meet, and the dark-haired lieutenant realizes that even despite the circumstances, Kira is perfectly content and happy.
Prompt used: First date
‘Ssh, Rangiku-san, I can’t hear them.’
‘Hinamori, you’re stepping on my foot.’
‘You’re making too much noise, Iba.’
‘Abarai’s hair is tickling my face.’
Shuuhei and Kira turned their heads from where they knelt at Kira’s kotatsu, drinking hot tea, and looked over at the door with raised eyebrows.
‘Wow, they’re still eavesdropping,’ the blond said under his breath; he sounded simultaneously impressed and surprised. ‘I thought they gave up half an hour ago.’
Shuuhei frowned as he heard the poorly disguised scrabbling and shuffling around at the door. ‘They’re not being too discreet about it, either,’ he murmured in agreement. ‘It’s so sadly unsurprising that Rangiku-san would think that just having tea and a chat is a first date. And that she’d go around telling everyone about it.’
A faint smile of reassurance graced the blond shinigami’s lips. Shuuhei could almost hear him saying: Well, we’re still very new, Hisagi-san. Kira actually reached out, then, placing his hand on Shuuhei’s knee with fond affection. It’s understandable that we’d still be objects of fascination at this point in time.
‘I actually feel a little sorry for them,’ the dark-haired lieutenant uttered, returning the small smile. He could hear Abarai and Rangiku arguing in whispers outside. ‘They’ll be standing out there for a long time and not hear anything they’d want to hear. Do you think we should indulge them a bit?’
Kira tilted his head to the side for a moment, looking at him thoughtfully. It was then, almost suddenly, that a fleeting twinkle of inspiration flashed in his eyes. The blond reached out to the kotatsu and jolted it several times; the teapot and teacups perched on its surface rattled loudly. And as he did this, he turned his head towards the direction of the door, and called out clearly:
‘Ohhh, yes – harder, Hisagi-san!!’
The noises at the front door fell into a dead silence.
Notes: Can be read separately or as a companion drabble to Sense of Normalcy.
Prompt used: Behind the curtain
It wasn’t as if Shuuhei never noticed.
He had always known that Kira bore a great love and admiration for his captain; he’d even once heard the uttered words from the blond shinigami’s own mouth, I would die for him. He’d known how fiercely Kira was devoted to Captain Ichimaru from all the years he’d watched the blond from the sidelines. And he’d told himself repeatedly, often without even realizing it, that Kira would still have room for him, that Kira bore an even greater care and devotion for him.
They were lovers. Kira would never close his eyes and think of someone else’s face when they shared a tender kiss; Kira would never avert his gaze and imagine that he was holding someone else’s hand.
Kira wasn’t like that, and Shuuhei never, ever wanted to think of himself as a replacement for Captain Ichimaru.
Even as the betrayal and the war of Soul Society had taken its toll on everyone, and the blond shinigami had spent hours on end looking silently out of his window at the grey sky that hung over Seireitei and worked ever-hard to fill the gap that Captain Ichimaru had left behind, Shuuhei had told himself that there was nothing veiled between them, nothing hidden. It was natural for the other shinigami to grieve, to be sorrowful for his loss. The dark-haired lieutenant had embraced Kira closely, breathing in his scent and his warmth, and whispered in his ear, I would die for you; and he meant it.
At the time, Shuuhei didn’t want to think of why Kira tightened his thin arms around him and trembled.
Prompt used: A quiet stolen moment
It had begun as no more than a mere brush of ankles underneath the table as they’d sat together in Kira’s office, discussing documents. Shuuhei had stopped in surprise – but Kira, on the other hand, had gone on with the conversation as if it was all perfectly natural. Shuuhei had then nudged his ankle lightly against his friend’s again, out of curiosity; Kira had proceeded to nudge back. That day, every few minutes for several hours, they would lightly touch each other in this way, and the dark-haired lieutenant thought of the exchange as no less than strange and fascinating.
And then, the touches grew over time: a scarce brush of wrists, reassuring pats on the back, a friendly hand on a knee, more gentle nudging of ankles and elbows. It was never much, but the warm contact of skin was enough. The reiatsu stirring underneath felt always like a heartbeat, alive and soft and comforting. Shuuhei understood each touch like they were words.
Each was a stolen moment that no one else noticed or knew about, lying soft and light between them.
It was when Kira came to him after the war, solemn and quiet and tender as always, that a reassuring hand on an arm turned into a comforting embrace, and a comforting embrace turned into an unexpected feather-light kiss, and soon enough, it was all lips and arms and warm, warm breath, all hands and fingertips and heated whispers of each other’s names. It was just a yearning for consolation and contact, the dark-haired lieutenant knew, but this openness was far from stealing a moment, and nothing that gave such solace could possibly be wrong.
Somehow, Shuuhei realized, it all seemed perfectly natural.
Prompt used: Boys’ night out
‘It’s the fifth night in a row we’ve been out,’ Hisagi slurs. ‘We can’t think of anything better to do, can we.’
It isn’t a question, but a statement. Izuru nods distantly; the atmosphere around him gives him no motivation to disagree, all the dim, dim lights and misshapen shadows splashed across the grimy walls, the sickly sweet breaths of lonely drinkers and the musty stench of sweat in evening Rukongai. It’s strange that, for the first time, they don’t feel out of place here – or maybe, Izuru ponders, they’ve both stopped caring.
‘You know what we need?’ the blond asks conversationally; the dark-haired lieutenant tilts his head idly and looks straight into Izuru’s face, his eyes dark and weary. ‘We need a break.’
‘This doesn’t count as a break?’ Hisagi answers slowly, evenly, and Izuru knows that the other shinigami doesn’t mean to be so blunt, but he can’t help but feel just a little injured at the response, nonetheless. ‘It’s been a week since – since Taicho – well, you know. And we may’ve had just a little more to drink every night after then than we should’ve.’
The blond hunches over his cup, pale fingers curling slowly around it.
‘What else do you propose?’
‘I have no idea,’ the dark-haired shinigami admits.
Izuru can’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning slightly upwards at the irony. ‘Me neither.’
They aren’t lost children. They aren’t walking astray at the absence of their guides. They’re among the most responsible of Seireitei’s vice-captains, among the most talented and admirable of the shinigami officers. There’s never been anything neither of them can handle; there’s never been anything that has struck them down.
But they sit across the table from each other in the dim light, tipsy and wordless. There’s nothing better for them to do.
Prompt used: Chess
Kira held the blankets fragilely up to his chest, his eyes clearly bearing the dark circles of his exhaustion and sleeplessness, and Shuuhei couldn’t dare admit that he had often thought that the blond was weaker than he truthfully must’ve been. It was unjustly natural; the other vice-captain was all gentility and tenderness and composure, his eyes always kind and sad, his voice and words always mild and calm. He looked worn and ragged from the war. Shuuhei distantly wondered how many wounds he truly bore from it.
‘Do you think I was nothing less than a pawn in all this, Hisagi-san?’ the blond asked.
The dark-haired lieutenant knew he didn’t really have to say anything. Kira already knew the answer. The memory of drawn blades, strong flurries of reiatsu, a familiar fox-faced smile; the over-fierce loyalty, and everything else, must all still be too sharp and clear, still fresh and smarting.
Shuuhei touched his friend’s wrist lightly with his fingertips. I want to save you.
He was met with the usual tender and ever-tired eyes: Like some kind of knight?
There was mildness in Kira’s reiatsu and neutrality in his face; and even then, Shuuhei somehow understood how much the other shinigami yearned to be seen as strong, how much it must’ve hurt to be so easily used and abandoned, to be able to do nothing more.
‘Either way,’ the dark-haired shinigami said calmly, ‘I’m right here.’
Kira closed his eyes. ‘I know that,’ he said under his breath. ‘I always know that.’
Shuuhei felt a thin hand curl around his own, and he could do no less than hold it tight.
Notes: Sorry about the blatant reshaping of the prompt. I think I might've split it into ‘drinking’ and ‘games’ XD
Prompt used: Drinking games
‘Mmm. Wow,’ Kira purred tipsily, one arm snaking slowly around Shuuhei’s elbow, his nose lightly touching the shoulder of the sleeveless shihakusho. ‘You smell incredible, Hisagi-san.’
The dark-haired vice-captain raised an eyebrow and leaned over, pressing his nose to the blond’s upper arm. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
‘Ohh,’ he uttered under his breath, withdrawing himself from the other shinigami’s sleeve; he opened his eyes slowly, interestedly, and gazed at Kira through his eyelashes. ‘You smell pretty good, too.’
The blond gave him a shaky smile, his eyes gleaming; Shuuhei seemed to barely notice the way his friend was slowly crawling into his lap.
‘You’re delicious,’ he whispered.
‘I want you.’
‘Take me, Hisagi-san.’
‘Oooooooooooookay,’ Rangiku’s voice interrupted, her suspiciously singsong tones bearing a mixture of disapproval and fascination; Kira had just wrapped his arms around Shuuhei’s neck and began nibbling at his jawline when he was hauled off the dark-haired lieutenant by two pairs of hands that had grabbed at his elbow. ‘No more sake for either of you. Come on, Hinamori, let’s put him to bed.’
Hinamori could barely hide the grin that was threatening to spread across her face, but nodded obediently, and proceeded to help drag Kira off; the blond protested and tried futilely to resist, whirling his head around into Shuuhei’s direction and calling his name repeatedly. He sounded like a child whose playthings had been taken away. Abarai shook his head as Kira pouted at the dark-haired lieutenant all the way out.
‘You do know that he was only pretending to be drunk too, right?’ the redhead said pointedly.
Shuuhei winked at him. ‘Of course.’
Abarai rolled his eyes, but Shuuhei didn’t mind. There was no harm in a bit of double-sided play-drunken flirting at this point in time.
It was good practice for when they both had enough balls to do it without pretending, after all.
Prompt used: Comfort/Recuperation
I’m by your side, the dark-haired shinigami said to him.
Izuru had always thought of Hisagi’s composure as strength, as resolve. He always did everything as he was meant to, without complaint or reserve, always holding things together at a time when they were in pieces. Izuru felt the soft arms wrapping around him; Hisagi’s scent washed over him, a smell of warmth and comfort.
It was a welcome consolation from his friend and senpai, a solace that he needed. The blond pressed his cheek lightly against Hisagi’s, and he could feel the rises and falls of Hisagi’s chest against his own as he breathed, and the steady pulses of faint reiatsu. Izuru could almost swear that he could hear the other shinigami’s heart beating, each muted thump, and he wanted to touch his lips to the tender skin of Hisagi’s earlobe and whisper against it: we’re still alive.
The quiet breath against his hair held an almost inaudible tremor, and Izuru knew, then, that he hadn’t been the only one who needed reassurance.
He closed his eyes.
‘We’ll always help each other, Hisagi-san,’ he uttered. ‘We both know that, right?’
It was almost strange to the blond that he was the one providing the words of comfort, now, that both of them needed and gave and shared this consolation. But he felt the arms around him tightening just slightly, and the warm palm pressed against the small of his back, and it didn’t matter, either way.
And I’m by yours.
For: Silver, of silverharmony
Prompt used: Red ribbon
‘You wanna know what it says?’ Renji asked. He lazily reached out to Kira’s chest, lifted up the paper that was sloppily stuck there, and read out:
You are so sexy. Whenever I so much as just look at you, you make me so hot. Please unwrap me and have your way with me.
If you’re up for my tongue running along the inside of your sweat-slicked thighs, or plunging the full, hard length of your—
The redhead was interrupted by Kira thrashing around with wide eyes fixed on him in horror, his frantic writhing restricted by the enormous length of red ribbon enclosing his entire body, his muffled shouts of alarm restrained by the gag in his mouth. Renji heard a sigh next to him, and turned to see Matsumoto looking at the blond with disapproval.
‘Really, Kira,’ she scolded. ‘This is for your own good. And Shuuhei’s own good.’
‘And for our own good, too,’ Renji added with a grumble, sticking the note back onto the blond’s chest. ‘If I see you two secretly checking each other out any longer, and not doing a very good job of hiding it, and not making any moves either, I’d have had to isolate myself from both of you permanently to keep my sanity.’
Kira went weakly limp, and looked at Renji pleadingly, as if to say: please untie me, and I promise I won’t do it anymore.
The redhead idly turned to Matsumoto again. ‘So, shall we drop him off in Hisagi-san’s room now?’
‘Yeah, why not.’
They both conveniently ignored the muffled protests as Renji picked up the blond and hauled him over his shoulder.