Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ In The Moments We Share ❯ Responsibilities ( Chapter 1 )

Author's Notes: This is my first publishing of a fan fict. of any type, so reader response would be loved beyond anything. While I tried to keep to character as decently as possible, I won't deny that there maybe some OCness. Constructive crit. only; No flames . . . If something is unappealing or bad, explain so I can work on it. All the characters, save one, are actual names mentioned throughout the manga. An e-cookie for the first one to get it right :p
This is a two part story of the lonely winter's night that gave birth to Squad Three's insignia. It is labeled T in this section for suggestive content.
The all important disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters, though if I could make a wish. . .

Part One:
Responsibilities

“. . . and, by the way, I opened up the mess hall to all divisions. No need to have everyone scattered over break,”

“That’s very generous of you, Ticho, givin’ all the left-overs a place to go while the rest are away,” Ichimaru Gin glanced out the window, inwardly frowning as another layer of snow dusted over the courtyard.

“It makes it easier on everyone, honestly,” replied Aizen Souske as he brushed his initials to one of many placement request forms. “and allows us to keep an eye out for any unique individuals,”

“Unique, eh?” Gin turned the transcript around, curious to why something with the Academy’s emblem would require a Captain’s signature. Skimming over the list of satisfied and exceed requirements, he didn’t even bother with the list of references. “This one’s gonna graduate early. Snatchin’ her up before someone else catches wind?”

“Hinamori, Momo? Not even. She’s had eyes only for Fifth Squad for quite some time now. ‘Inspired’ by our rescue, or so I’ve been told,” Amusement danced in Aizen’s voice.

The tone sent pins to Gin’s core. “More like enthralled,” commented the Lieutenant. If only other people knew what lurked behind that well chiseled mask.

“Enthralled indeed,” mused Aizen, searching through the pile. “Here’s the other one, Kira Izuru, graduating at the top of his class with a transcript even more impressive then that of Hinamori-chan’s. I thought he’d be rather useful as well, though, I believe his interests are due to more personal reasons. I think the other one has a future in Squad Eleven, a bit thick headed for my taste,” Handing the packet over to his second-in-command, Aizen watched unfocused eyes courteously skim over the text, not registering anything in particular. “Blissfully ignorant, but efficient; very good at doing that he’s told. Well suited for you after the promotion, I think. He’s a pretty boy too,”

Gin grimaced at the implication and dropped the papers on the desk. “Ticho, that’s nasty,”

Aizen laughed at his fukiticho’s reaction. “I just wanted to provoke something sincere, Gin, don’t take it to heart. Besides, I have something I need you to do for me tonight. It’s the reason why I asked you to stop by,” Aizen removed his Captain’s jacket, hanging it on the wall next to his desk. Without the distinction, he looked like any of the masses under command of the Gotei Thirteen. “I will be going out tonight, leaving the compound in your capable hands. Of course, this is on an ‘need-to-know' basis-”

“And no one else needs to know?” chimed in Gin, recovering his trademark grin.

“Exactly,” agreed the Captain. “Now then, there’s been some loitering in the hall well after hours. I don’t specifically mind that, however, the drinking games I do. Make sure any disruptions are kept to a minimum and the parties responsible are out at a decent hour,”

“Doesn’t sound too difficult,” said Gin as he started for the door, “I’ll be sure to keep a tight wrap on things ‘till ya come back, no worries,”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Ichimaru-fukiticho,” added Aizen, removing his glasses.

“Aizen-ticho, you know me better then that. Go an’ enjoy yourself,” Gin started to close the door behind him, “Oh! And if you see Sakura-chan, give her a pinch for me!”

The door snapped shut and Ichimaru’s footsteps faded away. “I do know you, Gin, that’s the problem . . .” muttered the man with a sigh.

-

-

-

The snow fell steadily that evening. If it wasn’t for the traditions imported from the living world, the courtyard outside Gin’s window would have been etched with the travels of fellow squad members. He could imagine the complaints rolling in within the next few days. By now, the white powder had piled up just below the veranda decks, with wind blown drifts scattered along their length. In the morning, there would be a pile pushed against his door at least a few inches high. Squad Four had their work cut out for them this year.

Leaning back in the chair, Gin stretched his arms overhead and yawned. It was good to be lazy once in a while. The scroll of incantations lay open on the same section started hours before. He had some intention of reviewing the advanced kido spells, at least, until he was sure that he was truly alone. His captain had an annoying habit of showing up at inconvenient times and, despite the Captain's quarters being directly across the courtyard, Gin never saw the man leave.

When the clock tower chimed two hours till midnight, the lieutenant decided it was time to make way to the mess hall. Any type of food service stopped a half hour ago, giving late comers time to eat and get back to their posts.

Standing up, the shinigami yawned again before tending to his zanpactou. Reaching through the neck of the uniform, he situated the wakisashi sized blade beneith his shitagi, realishing the phyical contact. Shinso’s weight brought a obtainable sense of security and was worth the reprimand if he was ever caught. After resetting the disheveled garment, Gin slid open the door to a bitter wind and his fifth seat.

"Ichimaru-fukiticho! Good Evening Sir,"

"Ahh, good evenin' Sora-san. Isn't it a lil' late to be wanderin' around?"

"Some would say it's a little early, Sir," The shinigami mused, "My shift started an hour ago; my turn for patrol for tonight,"

Gin chuckled and stepped out, closing the door promptly behind him. "Well then, I shouldn't be holdin' you up. Gotta get goin' anyway, duty calls."

"Heading over to the dinning hall?"

Now the fukiticho's interest was peaked. "Now, why would I be headin' to the dinning hall , Sora-san?" A wide smile stretched across his face.

"Late night snack?" Smirked the officer with a half hearted laugh turned real when his superior chimed in. In a recovery motion, he ran a hand through his dark hair and scratched the back of his head.

Gin was amused, though it wasn't the comment. His underlings reaction held traces of guilt in his slip of tongue. It was fun watching his lame attempt to side step the subject. The opportunity was too good to pass up. "Let's go get us a snack then, shall we?"

On the walk across squad grounds, Gin let his companion do most of the talking. Sora seemed to unwind after the first few moments, filling them with the story of how he came to work night shift. According to his story, he was covering for a friend so he could go home for the 'holiday'. Gin figured he lost a bet during the mess hall mischief. Could the blurted phrase been a spiteful tattle in disguise? The prospect was delicious. He was enjoying getting to know Sora Akira, fifth seat of Squad Five. Perhaps he wouldn't be needing Kira Izuru after all.

"It's been enjoyable, Ichimaru-fukiticho," Sora said as they approached the building in question, "But unfortunately, I must continue my rounds,"

"Your rounds don' include the inside of buildings?"

"Of course they do, Sir," Sorta replied reluctantly, "but I started a little-"

"Then make it quick," interrupted Gin, determined not to let potential entertainment get away. Bypassing the conflicted young man, Gin motioned for him to follow before sliding a hand back inside the sleeve. A half muffled groan followed behind with shuffled footsteps.

-

-

-

"Kiku no hana . . . Kiku no hana," started a deep voice dramatically. A cup was chosen, fingers itching to turn it over. Raising his voice over the drumming hands on the table, he grinned triumphantly. "Akete tanoshii, KIKU NO HANA!"

The cup was flipped over to reveal nothing underneath. Discouraged groans and boos flooded in from spectators. All Hisagi Shuuhei could do was frown.

"Geeze Hisagi, way to be full of hot air," taunted Tatsuhusa Enjyouji, digging an elbow into his friend's side playfully.

"Awww, it's okay," comforted a lightly flushed Matsumoto Rangiku from across the table. Reaching out, she picked up a sake bottle from the stockpile in the middle. "Everyone knows that when it comes to things like this, you're always better the more you have!" When the bottle tilted to Hisagi's cup, less then mouth full trickled out.

" . . . "

"Damn, I guess the Sake gods are really hating on you tonight," frowned Rangiku, "Oi, Iba-san, can you hand me another one from under there?"

The young man at the end of the table extended his arm underneath and pulled up a green bottle. Before reaching over the person next to him, passing it to the hostess, Iba Tetsuzaemon stopped. Pointing the corked end at the gap in Rangiku's uniform, he asked why she didn't use her own before she snatched the bottle by the neck from his hand.

"This," she said proudly, "Is my special reserve!" Cupping her bosom on ether side, she lifted and pushed them together, emphasizing the a clay flask that bulged out from the cleavage, "For use only in the most dire of circumstances!"

"That sure is 'special' alright," muttered Tetsuo Momohara, his eyes drooling at the presentation next to him.

"You have no idea how special," giggled a very flushed Kotetsu Isane from her spot between Tetsuo and Iba. The table in front of her hosted two and a half empty bottles and a two thirds full cup of sake, evidence of who had won the last two games of Kiku no hana. "It's like living world special," Her washed over eyes widening with the emphasis.

"Isane-chaaaan," whined Rangiku, popping off the cork and throwing it at her friend, "You're not so pose to tell!"

"Sound's like someones been naughty on field trips," grinned Hisagi, slowly recovering his demeanor.

"Good girls are bad ones that don't get caught," Rangiku smiled back, filling her friend's cup then her own. "Now, who's turn was it?"

The tray circled the table with no winners. When it was pushed in front of Iba, he grunted in frustration. Trying as hard as he could, the shinigami made his best selection and, like all its predecessors, yielded nothing. Cursing, he dropped a fist on the table.

"Don't worries Iba-kun, you just stink at this game," sliding the tray over to her, Kotetsu eyed the rows of over turned cups, "You need to be skilled, like me. Isn't that right, Kiku no hana?!" she squeaked before throwing her finger tips around the base of a cup and lifting it.

"Guess you're just as bad as the rest of us," commented Iemura Yasochika with a smile.

"But I was so sure it was here . . . " Kotetsu pouted. As quick as the giddy expression faded, it resurface as the cup was flipped over to reveal a flower hair clip snug inside. "Oh wait, here it is! I win again! Victory drink!" Her cup was emptied and tapped on the table in a satisfied thud. "I only have . . . ummm . . ."

"Well, you had one left over from last time, and you just got eight more, so nine. You have nine more drinks to go, Isane-chan," Rangiku helped, seeming almost proud of herself.

"God damn," Hisagi said as he analyzed Kotetsu, "She might not make it that far. Hey, where ya going Tetsuo?"

"Breaking the seal," Tetsuo groaned getting up. Putting a hand on Rangiku's shoulder, he said, before sprinting towards the door "Dobin . . ."

Rangiku squeaked and pointed at Hisagi. "Chabin!"

Hisagi pointed right back at her. "Hagechabin!"

"Ichi!" Rangiku exclaimed pointing to Tatsuhusa.

Extending his arm out to point at Kotetsu, something waved over his face and his smile faltered. " . . . maru . . . "

Kotetsu squeaked out "San!" and pointed to the shadows behind her only to see her subject had moved.

Long fingers clasped around the top of Rangiku's flask. Pulling it free, the objects curvature chimed with the chain that looped around her neck and dropped low into the open neck of the uniform. Her eyes were too busy scaling up the figure as he took two well rounded gulps of the specially reserved drink. Her mind traveled between the moments in those seconds, opening up the imagination to multitudes of possibilities. It took someone on the outside to break the trance.

"Ichimaru-fukiticho! Our apologies, we did not see you there, Sir!" Hisagi announced, standing up.

The whole table, save for a drunk Kotetsu, followed Hisagi's example. Rangiku stepped aside, allowing the lieutenant a comfortable gap as he stepped closer to the bench. After recapping the flask, Gin held it out for its owner to reclaim it. She did, and nonchalantly reset it to its original keeping place.

Kotetsu giggled. "I saw him, right as he walked into the door. He walked in with . . . " She hiccuped and her voice turned an adorable tone in anger, "That stupid snitch Sora Akira!" she yelled at the guilty figure by the door.

"Now, now, Kotetsu-chan, I was just with him on rounds," grinned Gin, "Besides, if I were here to get you in trouble, I wouldn't 'a paid the toll,"

" 'Toll', Sir?" Tatsuhusa asked.

"You have to pay a drink when joining a game, whether it's by choice or not," explained Rangiku.

"Correct," Gin finished sitting down, "An' thanks to Kotetsu-chan, I know where I'm gonna be for the next few hours. Thank you, Kotetsu-chan. Now, house rules?"

Tetsuo returned to a game of Jaken between Iemura and Rangiku. Where he threw down two out spread fingers, she threw down a fist. The victory cheer echoed in the vacant hall. He cursed.

"Yes! I win! Now you have to do it!" Rangiku commanded to the end of the table. To prove her point, she picked up her cup and took a drink. Iemura and Iba exchanged glasses.

"Awww," complained Iba crinkling his nose, "This feels weird,"

"It does," frowned Iemura, "Oi, Tetsuo, what took you so long?"

"I was talking to Akira before he left. Started fu-," Tetsuo Momohara almost bit through his tongue, catching himself before making a grievous error. "Fukiticho! How are you doing tonight, Sir?"

"Better then I was ten minutes ago," confessed Gin.

"It's good stuff isn't it?" smirked Rangiku.

"Yes Matsumoto-sama, the sweetest nectar from a heavenly valley," answered Gin, abiding by the session's regulations.

"Ahhh . . . ," Tetsuo relaxed in his realization, "Came in late, didn't you? So you're off duty then?"

"For Kami's sake, Tetsuo-kun, sit the hell down," blurted Kotetsu, "We were about to do another round of Kiku No Hana,"

"I don't think you can stand winning another one, Isane-chan," Rangiku commented with concern.

"But, but, but . . . Rangiku-chan, you promised! When we were drinking in your room, you said if I let you -hiccup- win, I could play any game I wanted!"

"Oi! Cheater!" pointed Iba.

Hisagi almost spit out a mouthful of sake. "Wait, how long have you two been drinking?"

"Well, the sun was still out . . ."

"Crafty, crafty, Matsumoto-sama," Gin complimented, being thoroughly amused at the back door arrangement that was brought to light, "You'll do anythin' to be on top, won't ya?"

"I demand a redo!" barked Iemura, slamming his hands down on the table.

"Hey! This is not a democracy, it's a dictatorship!" Rangiku declared, standing to emphasize her point. Reaching across the table, she exchanged the freshly opened bottle with Gin's half empty cup. Holding up her own she yelled "Banzai!" then drank it dry in three large gulps. The smile afterward was sadistically satisfied and significantly more flushed.

There was no question on what had to be done. Every cup had to be emptied. Gin looked at the bottle for a second, trying to measure up the type of challenge it posed. A heavy sigh brought a hand around the green neck, the spout to his lips, and lifted. The bitterness flowed out in a series of rhythmic swallows, none of which were hesitant or interrupted. As it emptied to the last few incriminates, a rush of intoxication swelled and almost caused a sputter. Experience countered and the bump was smoothed over. The hollow glass clanked on the wooden table when he finished.

"Well, damn . . ." someone from the far end of the table commented after switching glasses again.

"See boys," Rangiku smirked, putting a hand on Gin's shoulder for a job well done, "That's how you're so pose to do it!"

The hand lingered for a second, squeezing slightly before dropping away. The dictator sat back down smiling, but defeated within. It had been the first time they touched since she begged him not to leave so many years before. How long has it been now? How many decades have slipped by just noticeable enough to remind of the rift between them, vast and uncrossable. What they had now was better then the nothing she remembered, no matter how impersonal it was. Though, the hurt of having him so near ran a close second.

Iba rolled another bottle down the table, giving a thumbs up in approval. Hisagi raised a cup taking a drink. The others followed suite after refilling.

"You sure know how to take it like a champ, Sir," complimented Tetsuo before receiving a stiff elbow in the side.

"Stop calling him 'sir', you're gonna make it awkward!" Kotetsu whispered loudly.

"What'd say, he picks the next game?" suggested the tattooed shinigami.

"Here, here!"

Gin looked to the ruling head of the table, not wanting to be insubordinate a second time. She waved him off from behind her cup, eyes dancing at Iemura and Iba's forced compliance. She was distracting herself; getting over the moment. He knew the thoughts that plagued her mind, of the years gone by and words unsaid. This was the closet to happiness they were allowed to share and it would have to be enough. He reminded himself of this every day he woke up and went to sleep by himself.

"Double Cup Kiku No Hana!" Gin announced.

Kotetsu Isane squealed.