Summary: Yumichika who-is-not-gay makes a statement...multiple times.
"Everybody thinks you're gay, you know," Ikkaku said.
"WHAT?" Yumichika shrieked, spluttering and spilling his rose tea all over the front of his pin-straight uniform.
Ikkaku reclined on Yumichika's bed, and while the latter of the two tried to hold back from the impulse to scream at him about all the little things, such as how he was wrinkling the sheets and the minor detail that he still had his sandals on, his friend went on. "Yeah. I mean, it is sort of...out there." Ikkaku mumbled the last part, not sure how to clarify just how noticeable his companion was making it.
Yumichika whisked out a handkerchief from the pocket of his hakama, which was so clean even lint was afraid to dwell there, and began dabbing at the stains on his clothing, all the while toiling over it and muttering how he was definitely going to have to change.
"Y-yumi, just look at yourself!" Ikkaku cried, having had enough at this point. He pushed himself back up into a sitting position and threw his hands up in the air, gesturing to Yumichika, who had gone still.
"I mean, I'm not saying that being obsessive compulsive is a bad thing, but...I mean, you just hate-I mean, hate even a speck of dirt getting on your uniform," he said. "You never go all the way in a fight. You like the finest brands of tea and biscuits that I've never even heard of, and you spend nearly an hour in the bathroom every morning primping, for God's sake."
"Men have just as much right to be clean as women do," Yumichika protested, "no matter how they go about it. So what if I'm not like you or Zaraki. So what if I don't like to fight, and so what if I want the finest in life. If you think that little things like that undermine my masculinity, then you obviously don't know what gay is, Ikkaku."
"Yumichika, everyone KNOWS you're gay!"
Yumichika blanched. "W-what?"
"Know one who's anyone-No, scratch that. No one who's sane could have fought Charlotte like you did and NOT be gay!"
"But I had to fight him!" Yumichika whined, flailing his arms around. "It wasn't like a signed up for it! You think I liked fighting that hideous, repulsive ogre? That was the most scarring moment of my entire existence!" Sobbing, Yumichika hurled himself into his pristine lavatory and slammed the door behind him. He played it up real good until Ikkaku found the manners to leave and then he decided to take a shower, now that his thoughts had been tainted once more by Charlotte, thank you very much.
However, what Ikkaku had said disturbed him. Everyone knew he was gay?
Oh no...oh no, oh no, oh no... Yumichika buried his face in his hands. How utterly humiliating to be so demoralized in public by everybody. Dousing his hair once more and combing the stray locks behind his ears, he slipped from the shower stall and grabbed his towel. After short deliberation, he donned his favorite silk flower-printed robe and began brushing his hair with short, easy strokes.
Normally, going about his daily duties was never a problem for Yumichika. Despite the fact he was among smelly brutes 24/7, he never tired of being in squad 11. In spite of this, after Ikkaku told him that everybody had been misinformed that he was gay, every brush or tap of the shoulder made him jump.
The next morning, Yumichika wasn't just Yumichika Ayasegawa anymore; from then on, he was Yumichika who-is-not-gay.
When Ukitake spotted Yumichika who-is-not-gay walking alone one day and decided to give him some candy to cheer him up, instead of gratefully taking it, Yumichika who-is-not-gay took it to be a sexual advance and wailed, "I'M NOT GAAAAY!" and careered in the opposite direction.
Or there was the time when the water went out at Yumichika who-is-not-gay's residence and he was forced to attend the men's public bathing house. The men were all roudy from a hard day's work and were making vulgar comments and then laughing about it. Yumichika who-is-not-gay, who was huddled up in a corner, gave a girlish scream when one of the men there twisted up a towel and whipped him in the ass with it. Grough, raucous snickers could be heard at the familiar show of play.
Yumichika who-is-not-gay, thinking it to mean something else entirely, tried in vain to cover his ass with his hands and turned to face them. "I'M NOT GAY!" he howled, and used flash step to hurtle out of there like a bullet.
Then there was the day that Zaraki was feeling chiefly lazy and shoveled all his paper work onto Yumichika who-is-not-gay. "Oh, I get it! Pick on the gay guy, right?" Yumichika who-is-not-gay shrieked, on the verge of a mental breakdown. "Well I'm not gay! So you all can go fuck yourselves!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Kenpachi grumbled, chin cradled in the palm of his hand from where he was leaned up against his desk. "You always do the paper work even without my say so. Now stop your whining." Yumichika who-is-not-gay slumped. "Yes, captain," he said meekly, and sauntered off, his flame of fury snuffed.
The next day, after several bouts of rejected letters, Ukitake personally came to the 11th barracks with a big-ass basket of chocolates and bonbons. Yumichika who-is-not-gay took one look at the smile and what were most likely sweets laced with drugs and ran. "I'M NOT GAY, I'M NOT GAY, I'M NOT GAY!" he chanted over and over.
Not shortly after, Shunsui came along and knocked on the door to his home, wanting to talk to him up close about why he insisted on hurting Ukitake's feelings. Yumichika who-is-not-gay naturally answered, thinking that it was Ikkaku. Instead, he saw Shunsui Kyoraku, standing there in brightly colored attire with prominent stubble and straw hat galore. Yumichika who-is-not-guy took one look at Shunsui's insanely pink haori, and slammed through the ceiling.
"I'M NOT GAAAY!" were the only words Shunsui heard as Yumichika who-is-not-gay vanished to God-knows-where.
Eyes bloodshot, limbs twitching spasmodically, Yumichika who-is-not-gay-for-the-final-fucking-time sat in the eastern courtyard of Seireitei, alone, miserable, a wreck, and practically on the verge of suicidal. It was about at that second that Mayuri wandered onto the scene, looking for a possible specimen. When he saw Yumichika who-is-not-gay and his noticeable debilitated state, he pounced upon the chance. Yumichika who-is-not-gay didn't notice Mayuri until the crazy scientist was right up on him.
"Would you be my experiment?" Mayuri's hot breath fanned the pallor of Yumichika who-is-not-gay's neck, causing gooseflesh to break out across his skin. Though the question was sinister enough to Yumichika who-was-not-gay, all he heard were the diabolical unsaid words, Would you be my sex toy to do with as I please?
"NOOOO!" Yumichika who-is-not gay was gone in a flash, his shouts nothing but a far off burble by the time Mayuri lifted his head and straightened up. "Hmm...It would appear that fear and extreme paranoia contribute to exelerated speed," he said, and went down to scribbling notes on his handy writing pad.
Later that day, Ikakku, after going through an onerous string of gossip and senseless blathering, caught wind of where Yumichika had gone. He found the poor 5th seat in the only part of the eleventh division that its members hadn't demolished. In a small enclosure in the back of the barracks, Yumichika sat huddled under a spindly cherry blossom tree. Its petals were reaching the end of their season and had begun to shed with the slightest breeze. Ikkaku treaded through the lush green grass and knelt by Yumichika, who was no more Yumichika who-is-not-gay, but just a woeful shell of his former self. He touched him just once, which seemed to rouse his pretty eyelashed companion from his half-dozing state.
"I'm not gay," he whimpered, head bobbing slightly. Ikkaku patted him on the back consolingly.
"I know," he said. Yumichika crawled up into his arms, clinging to the front of Ikkaku's creased, tattered uniform. He was sweaty from training and had a shallow cut just over his left brow which had bled profusely until he had treated it with ointment. He was scuffed up good and had smudges of dirt here and there. Overall, he was, in Yumichika's terms, nasty. Despite that, the smell was familiar and welcome, and the person who held him wittingly galling as he was humorous.
Ikkaku was really the only dirty person in Yumichika's world. Why he had kept him so close for all these years was questionable to anybody except Ikkaku himself. Regardless of how much he denied it, Yumichika was, in fact, gay.
Ikkaku cradled Yumichika against him, supporting his thin but masculine frame against his own. His lips lifted in a smile when he saw that the obsessive compulsive, sleek-haired, perfection-oriented Yumichika had fallen asleep. Yumichika, who's vision of gay and himself didn't revolve around other men, just one man in particular, though he was unaware. He was just in denial, Ikkaku knew. So no matter who said what or what Yumichika believed, for now, this obsessive compulsive, sleek-haired, perfection-oriented 5th seat would be convinced he was straight...even though he was completely 100 percent gay...for Ikkaku Madarame.