The Chances Were Slim, Right?
Written by request of rozellarising
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or even the idea to this story.
AN: Don't usually write any sort of yaoi. This is KenpachixKira-ish and barely there Gin/Kira...
Out of everything that could have happened to Kira Izuru that night, he'd placed the likeliness of this at 1.53 percent. Four things made it an almost impossible phenomenon:
1) There was no alcohol actually served, but people managed to get drunk anyway. It was a mystery to almost everyone there (except Iba, who was, in fact, the one who snuck in the alcohol).
2) The group that was present wasn't even gambling.
3) The only people who really knew him—Renji and Hisagi—would never even think about doing this to him, even if they were smashed.
And number four?
Kira wasn't even present. He was asleep in his bed, resting up for the next day's work. He had no idea that this would happen.
Out of everything that could have happened to Kenpachi Zaraki that night, he'd placed the likeliness of this slightly over "No Way in Hell", but just under "If I Were Desperate". Four things made this an almost definite event:
1) Kenpachi Zaraki was drunk.
2) The eleventh squad captain completely sucked at Go Fish.
3) It was Matsumoto's idea and she was just as drunk as everyone else, which is probably why they ignored the incoherent mumbling of Abarai and Shuhei and followed her anyway.
And number four?
Kenpachi Zaraki was inconceivably, irrevocably, and irresponsibly drunk. Yumichika hadn't been there to talk him out of it. He'd be dumb not to have known it would happen eventually.
Kira snuggled deeper into his pillow, trying to fall back asleep for a few hours before he was forced to slave away his day. His blanket was halfway off of him and he reached over, pulling it the rest of the way on. He was not, however, expecting three hundred pounds of muscle to come with it.
A mumble of "sure glad I got stuck with you, darlin'" made Izuru tense up immediately. He slowly cracked his visible eye open and held back a whimper. The eleventh squad captain and frighteningly powerful shinigami Kenpachi Zaraki was laying across his torso, making breathing a bit difficult.
"Yer a lot prettier than that other one. She didn't have no teeth."
The captain's hand moved up his stomach and Kira froze, watching it as it traced an odd, apple-shaped pattern on his chest. Oh, it was supposed to be a heart, he realized after a moment.
It took the lieutenant a moment to realize his room reeked of alcohol and that the odor was diffusing from Zaraki—obviously drunk.
As gently as possible Izuru pulled a hand free, realizing the captain wasn't quite asleep. "Zaraki-taichou," he mumbled, cheeks growing red as Zaraki's hand stroked the boy's hair out of his face.
"What is it, Sweetheart?" Kenpachi looked up at him, frowning. The reiatsu in the room suddenly expanded, constricting Kira's veins a little before he could raise his own reiatsu to counter the captain's. Kenpachi shifted off of him, thankfully still dressed in a pair of hakama. "You not enjoyin' yerself or something?"
"I—I apologize, Sir…" Kira mumbled, scooting into a sitting position against the wall, blanket pooled over his knees. "But I believe you're in the wrong room."
"Nah, right here's where I am," Kenpachi moved closer. "Supposed ta be, that is. Told ta come here."
"I didn't tell you to come here, did I?" Kira paled at the thought, trying to think back to the last time he'd ran into the captain months ago while drinking with Renji. He said something to the captain then, but it wasn't even worth remembering if he couldn't think of it.
"Nah, nah, I lost a game and had to come see ya" two strong arms fitted themselves around the boy. "Matsumoto told me to stay with you tonight, 'cause you were lonely. Said it might make ya happy to have someone…"
"She said I was lonely?" Izuru asked, eyes widening.
"You look real beautiful with your hair pushed back like that," Kenpachi grunted, halfway to himself. "Yeah, since that bastard lover of hers left…your captain I guess…"
"Like I said; the bastard left." Zaraki's uncovered eye closed. "Hurtin' a sweet little thing like you—I'll kill him, ya want?"
"No thank you," Kira made sure the belt to his white robe was tied before he stood and crossed the room. He picked up the white captain's haori and black shinigami robes that didn't belong to him and set them in front of the captain. "I would appreciate it if you left, Sir. It isn't right for you to be here. If someone saw you, then—"
"Shut up," Kenpachi's deep voice made Kira shiver in fear. "Ain't no one gonna care if I come or go from here whenever I want."
"I really must insist you leave."
"Why's that?" Kenpachi eyed him, taking the robes from him and slipping one on.
"Because," Kira's cheeks darkened and he looked away. "I didn't invite you."
"Look, kid," Kenpachi grunted, standing and slipping on his haori. "I came 'cause I lost a bet. Not leavin' until the night's out. Deal with it." He sat down on the windowsill, leaned his head back against the frame and closed his eyes.
Izuru stood there for a moment, watching the captain sit still. The older man loosely held his sword as he rested, the spikes in his hair drooping down onto his shoulders and the gel broke down. He wasn't quite sure what to do. He couldn't just go to sleep, and he was certain that Zaraki wouldn't leave if he tried again. It was only a few hours before he usually got up anyway. He sighed, and started to get to work making something to drink.
The sun was just starting to rise when Izuru finished. Zaraki didn't move when Kira knelt in front of him with a tray of steaming tea. "Captain Zaraki, would you like—" Kira's eyes widened as Kenpachi held out his hand for tea. The young shinigami carefully set the cup in the large man's hand and watched in amazement as he brought it to his mouth, blowing out to cool it.
"What did you want to ask me?" The question caught Izuru off guard and he spent a moment trying to figure out a way to answer.
"I didn't have a question, Sir."
"Bull," Kenpachi's eye cracked open again. "I see you got dressed already."
"Yes, Sir," Kira answered, cowering a little as the battle-scarred captain loomed over him.
"I can see it in your eyes, kid. It'll come to you."
"Sir?" Izuru was quiet, staring at his cooling tea. "I—I'm not sure what you're asking. I'm concerned about what Matsumoto-san said about me, but I really can't see how that matters."
"You want to know if you really are lonely."
"I do." Kira nodded in acceptance. "I think I am alone."
"You aren't alone," Kenpachi rumbled, handing him the empty cup. "You've got friends you care about and they care about you. You have your sword, your youth, and your memories. Just because he left doesn't mean you've lost any of those things. You're still a person—not some rotting shell. You have a purpose and a name."
"I—" Kira put his hands on his knees and hung his head. Kenpachi had the unnerving feeling that he was going to cry. His voice was rough as he spoke again. "It's my fault he's gone…if I'd only done what—"
"Shut the hell up," Kenpachi glared at him. "That sick bastard deserves everything that's coming to him. He don't need your pity and you don't need to think about him. He never owned you, so quit acting like he still does."
"If you don't shut up and just think about this, I'm gonna backhand you."
Kira nodded curtly and dropped his head.
"Now, kid, you just sit there and think about all of the good things in your life that got ruined by him and all the things you still have that still are good." Kenpachi stood and slid his sword into his obi. His steps were a still little unsteady as he tromped to the door. "The next time I see you, I'd better not see any tears."
Kira sat quietly, still looking at the ground. Kenpachi continued his instructions, "You're a grown man and very capable of making your own choices, believe it or not. I'll come see you again, Kira-fukutaichou, and I'll wait to be invited so as not to insult or scare you any." Kenpachi opened the door and grunted. "Che, nobles."
Kira's head lifted as he heard the door fall shut.
"Ken-chan! Ikkaku said you were staying with the sad boy and I had to come the minute I found out to—"
"Shut it, Yachiru," Kenpachi said softly, shushing her. "Let's go. I want some breakfast before Madarame gets it all." Kira listened to their quiet conversation until it faded out.
He mentally slapped himself. He should have offered the man breakfast; it was rude of him not to.
He'd remember to fix him breakfast for the next time.
He was certain there would be a next time, because, even though the chances of Zaraki and Kira having anything in common were slim, Izuru was certain the man knew what he was talking about, because through feeling sorry for himself, Kira had seen the same loneliness in the captain's eyes. He was positive that he could relate to him in some way.
Besides, Kira thought to himself as he made his bed, smoothing out the wrinkles, Gin Ichimaru had never called him beautiful and something in him liked that feeling.