WELCOME, one and all, to the insanity that is The Division Exchange Program. Inspired by Mozco's 'Uninvited Guest', this fanfic gets steadily crazier and crazier as time goes on. To give you a few minor spoilers, a few of our main characters includes the sweet but undeniably crapped-on Hanatarou Yamada from Division, Division Eleven's prime nutters including Zaraki and his pink-haired Lieutenant, and Byakuya Kutchiki's hair.
If you're interested in my other fanfics or actual writing projects, you can check out my profile page or follow me on Twitter at /#!/AngelaDonlan .
So get comfortable, leave your sanity at the door and enjoy the wild, whacky fun that is Division Exchange!
Thanks for reading,
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its associated characters or fictional locations.
The Division Exchange Program
The Exchange Begins
Hanatarou walked to Captain Unohana's office, jumping out of the way of his fellow squad members as they rushed past him, helping a Soul Reaper who had been injured. He was confused over why he was being summoned to the Captain's office. It wasn't like he was very important in the functioning of the Seireitei. In the functioning of Squad Four.
To be honest, he wasn't really very important in the functioning of his own home. The thought was a little depressing.
So why had Captain Unohana summoned him? He hadn't really done anything spectacular. Besides helping the Ryoka before...
Hanatarou stopped in his tracks, a queasy feeling spreading through him. He was immediately knocked down by another member of Squad Four who snapped at him to get out of the way.
Slinking to the side of the corridor, Hanatarou continued on his journey, but with a new feeling of trepidation.
Surely Captain Unohana wouldn't punish him for that, would she? He'd already had a trial...Mind you, Hanatarou had always been vaguely suspicious that he'd gotten off too lightly.
Well, not always. In fact, up until that point he presumed that, since everyone considered him rather unimportant, him turning traitor wasn't really a big deal, as he'd never really done anything to help their side in the first place.
But what if Captain Unohana thinks different? thought Hanatarou as he entered the waiting room for Captain Unohana's office. What if she thinks I got off too lightly. But...Surely she's too nice...
Hanatarou had a flashback to the time where they had been hosting a large number of Squad Eleven members and, after complaining of the food, Captain Unohana had sent them running with only a few words.
She'd made members of Squad Eleven run away.
And she hadn't even threatened them.
She hadn't even reprimanded them
She'd just told them that they were under her care!
She didn't even have a glint of malice in her eyes! In fact, they'd been closed!
I'm going to die, thought Hanatarou gloomily as he sat down on one of the chairs which were in the waiting room.
Isane Kotetsu stuck her head out of the door and looked around the waiting room. At first her eyes seemed to go past Hanatarou. She stepped out of the office, looking a little irritated as she looked around again.
"Uh..." began Hanatarou timidly. "Are you looking for me?"
"No, I'm looking for..." began Lieutenant Isane automatically. Then she blinked and did a double take. Her eyes finally fixed on Hanatarou. "I mean, yes, I am looking for you...Uh...Squad member...Um..." She frowned. "No, don't tell me...It's right on the tip of my tongue...Begins with an 'B'..."
Hanatarou Yamada, who's name didn't even contain a 'B', blinked morosely.
"No, no, I know it...B...B...B...Ben? Bika? Beniko?" she began.
"My name doesn't-" began Hanatarou quietly.
"Binon...Banana -no, that's a food...Brett..." interrupted the lieutenant. "Benon...Brad...Benenecka...Balaloompa..."
"Excuse me, lieutenant," tried Hanatarou, wondering if she was just stringing together random consonants and vowels when she couldn't think of another name starting with 'B'.
"B...Oh, never mind. Seat...seat... I know I know this," said a frustrated Lieutenant Isane.
"Hanatarou Yamada, Seat Seven," explained Hanatarou miserably.
"...Seat six...No, I don't think so..."
His mood wasn't improved by the fact that even when he told her his name and rank the Lieutenant couldn't remember it.
Lieutenant Isane gave up and just pointed at Hanatarou and said, "you! Captain Unohana is ready for the meeting." Without further ado she knocked on the door and said, "Captain Unohana the man called...Uh...Oh, no, I know this...Um..."
Hanatarou decided to sit down again, knowing it would be a while.
"Are you thinking of the Seventh Seater Hanatarou Yamada?" asked the Captain from inside.
Lieutenant Isane clicked her fingers. "That's the one! Hanitu Yamda the Sixth Seater to see you."
"...Yes," said Captain Unohana. "Send him in."
Hanatarou stood again, all his nerves returning. He was trembling a little as he stepped forward to the door. He walked through and Lieutenant Isane shut it behind him.
"Hanatarou Yamada," began Captain Unohana. This was one of the reasons Hanatarou respected his Captain as much as he did. She remembered his name. "Please, take a seat."
"Thankyou, C-Captain." As Hanatarou was distracted, Unohana glanced down at the little piece of paper she'd written the man's name upon so she wouldn't forget it. Seeing she'd gotten it correct, she looked back up. She felt a little confused at what she was seeing.
"Yamada," she began formally. "Are you cold?"
"Well, are you sick then? If you are, you could have just said so and I wouldn't have made you come today."
"I'm n-not sick, C-Captain," stuttered the man in front of her.
"Then why are you trembling?" asked Captain Unohana obliviously.
Hanatarou was silent for a few moments, seeming to wrestle with himself whether to say something or not. Finally he burst out, "please don't punish me too harshly, Captain!"
Unohana was lost. "Punish you?"
"For...The Ryoka...Before," finished Hanatarou, his gaze never leaving his shoes.
"Why would you think I was to punish you for that? That was dealt with a long time ago..." Unohana searched her memory for his name. I had it a moment ago, she thought to herself. But she couldn't glance down while Hanatarou was looking. He would probably correctly conclude that she had his name written down somewhere. Failing everything else, she looked out the window and said, "what's that?"
While Hanatarou looked, she glanced down. "...Yamada. Why would you think I asked you here to punish you?"
"Why else would you ask me here?"
Fair point, thought Unohana, also thinking that Hanatarou probably wouldn't appreciate the real reason he'd been asked to see her. In fact, he'd probably prefer being punished to what she wanted him for. "Because..." Dammit, not again. "That's a strange bird." Hanatarou looked again. She glanced down. "...Because, Yamada, I would like you to participate in a new program designed to strengthen ties between our squad and...another Squad."
Hanatarou was beginning to get a bad feeling. "Which squad, Captain?"
"Our relationship with the squad in question had been strained by recent events," Captain Unohana skilfully avoided. "There has been rather a lot of strain between our two squads-"
"It's Squad Eleven, isn't it?"
Unohana dropped all pretences. "Yes, it is."
"Oh, god, I'm going to die."
Unohana smiled at him. "Why would you think that..." This is getting ridiculous. "Look, over there!"
"Captain, this is the third time you have tried to distract me in one meeting. You can just admit that you forgot."
"Forgot? Forgot what? Oh..." Dammit, dammit, what's his name? "...you, I'm not so neglectful a Captain that I forget - look, Ichigo Kurosaki is out the window!"
Hanatarou looked. "Where?"
On Earth there is a saying; speak of the devil and he shall appear.
In this case, it was pretty much accurate.
Ichigo was bored. He hadn't defeated anything overwhelmingly powerful in a while and Zangetsu was gathering dust.
His sword hand was get itchy.
Itchy...Ichigo...Itchy-go...Make the itchy go...His mind began playing with words. Make the itchy-go by using Zangetsu...Where are a lot of powerful people to annoy?...The Soul Society...Make the itchy go...
Ichigo decided to visit Rukia.
He would try his very best not to stir up any sort of life-threatening danger...Of course he would...But these things just happened to him.
Ichigo walked out of his room feeling much more cheerful than before, ignoring the little sing-song voice in the back of his head that kept repeating, Ichigo make the itchy-go, Ichigo make the itchy-go...
Unohana looked down. She looked up again and, while Hanatarou was looking outside, motioned for Isane to write something down. Isane quickly got the point and, finding a large piece of paper, got ready to write the name that her Captain wanted...But couldn't remember it. She looked up in confusion.
"So, Hanatarou Yamada of Seat Seven," emphasized Unohana. Isane begun writing it down. She got about half way through the first name then forgot it.
"...Yes?" asked Hanatarou, slightly confused.
"...How are you, today?" Unohana asked the first thing which came into her mind. Seeing Isane's gestures of confusion, Unohana added, "Hanatarou Yamada of Seat Seven."
Isane wrote down the rest of 'Hanatarou' and promptly forgot the rest.
"...I'm...Fine, thanks for...asking," Hanatarou said slowly. "How...Are...You?"
"Good, thankyou. Hanatarou Yamada of Seat Seven. How are you?"
Isane wrote the first mark of 'Yamada' and looked up, confused again.
"You...already asked me."
"Of course I did, Hanatarou Yamada of...Seat..." ...Crap! inwardly swore Unohana, keeping her face serene. I don't think I've said a sentence in the last minute without using his name! How could I have forgotten?
Hanatarou sighed, "if I turn around right now I'm going to see Lieutenant Kotestu trying to write my name on a piece of paper, aren't I?"
Hanatarou stood up, walked over to the embarrassed Isane and wrote his name in block characters.
"Oh, my, how did that get there?" Isane asked weakly.
Hanatarou went back to his seat. Then he stood up again, walked back to Isane and underlined his name for good measure before sitting down again.
There was a brief, awkward silence before Hanatarou said, "so what was the program you wanted me to participate in with the Squad of Doom which will get me killed?"
"...Pardon?" asked Unohana, confused.
"The deadly program."
"If it's got anything to do with the Squad of Doom it's going to get me killed."
"The Squad of what?"
"Doom. Impending death. Danger. In other words, everything Squad Eleven stands for," Hanatarou completed before continuing in a haunted manner. "Have you noticed that 'Eleven' sounds like 'Of Doom'?"
"...I can honestly say I've never noticed that."
"No? Listen; 'E-LE-VEN', 'OF-DOOM'. You don't hear the resemblance?"
"I don't think they even have the same number of syllables," pointed out Isane from her position in the back of the room.
"Or sound remotely like each other," said Unohana.
"You don't think so?" asked Hanatarou, sounding surprised. "Maybe it's all in my head..."
Unohana made a mental note to send Hanatarou to a psychiatrist when he got back from the program. Hang on...Do we even have psychiatrists here?
Unohana made another mental note to employ a psychiatrist first and then send Hanatarou to them.
"As I was saying," Unohana began again. "The program I had in mind was one called the 'Division Exchange Program'."
If Hanatarou thought he was feeling bad, if he thought that he was down, that he had a bad feeling of premonition about the program, it suddenly multiplied itself by a million. "The what?" he asked in a very small voice.
Unohana was feeling very guilty about what she was about to do, but kept up a cheerful countenance as she said, "The Division Exchange Program. A member from Squad Eleven and Squad Four go on an exchange trip to each other's Squad and-"
"Kill each other?"
"No, of course not-"
"Oh, silly me. How can they kill each other when they're in different Squads?"
"No, instead the Squad Eleven member will be sent here, try to pick a fight with everyone in the barracks, probably ALL AT THE SAME TIME, then try to pick a fight with everyone NOT in the barracks, ALSO AT THE SAME TIME, then try to pick a fight with ANYONE ELSE, even Soul Reapers who ARE NOT, WILL NEVER AND HAVE NEVER BEEN members of the Fourth Division. After that, having COLLAPSED WITH THE RANDOM STAB WOUNDS, he will come crawling back and expect everyone to heal him, probably COMPLAINING ABOUT THE DAMN FOOD!"
Neither Unohana nor Isane realized that the quiet, polite Soul Reaper they spotted sometimes looking bland and unimportant, had anything so...angry bottled inside.
The sad thing was that neither could think of a more accurate summary of what would probably occur.
Hm...Maybe eleven did seem like 'Of Doom' after all...
And maybe they would need more than one psychiatrist.
But Hanatarou wasn't finished.
"Of course, we can't forget the poor fool who will be sent to Squad Eleven -which is, of course, me-, who will promptly be CRUSHED, BEATEN TO A PULP, TORN APART, PROBABLY SAT ON A FEW TIMES AND CRUSHED SOME MORE before being sent back to Squad Four IN CONSIDERABLY MORE PIECES THAN WHEN HE SET OUT!"
Unohana decided to regain control of the situation. She glanced at Isane, who helpfully held up the card. "...Yamada, I'm sure it will be perfectly safe."
"Have you met Squad Eleven?"
"I am sorry (glancing at the card) ...Yamada, but this is necessary. The friction between Squad Four and Squad Eleven had gotten to the point where something must be done. Isane, care to explain?"
Isane stepped forward. "If the current problems between the two divisions are allowed to continue growing then eventually there will be an inter-division war. Basically this would mean that not only would large quantities of both divisions die-"
"What, you mean they wouldn't just slaughter us?"
"Knowing Squad Eleven they would probably turn around and slaughter each other at the same time. This would mean great losses."
"And, of course, you know what would be the worst part of that would be?" Hanatarou asked with an odd glint in his eye. "We would have to HEAL THOSE BASTARDS after."
"I am happy you understand the situation," Unohana said politely.
"I do have one question, though. Why did you choose me?" asked Hanatarou. "Why not someone else? ANYONE else?"
"Because...well..." began Unohana, trying to find a tactful way of saying it.
"It's because I'm the person of least importance in the entire Division, isn't it?"
The Captain didn't say anything. She didn't need to.
"I'd better go pack," miserably said Hanatarou. He walked out with his shoulders drooping.
"That could have gone better," sighed Unohana, genuinely regretting what she had just had to do.
"No kidding," sympathized Isane.
Then Hanatarou walked back in and took the card with his name on it. "I'll probably need this." He walked back out again.
Neither of them had anything to say to that.
"Probably" would have just been mean.
The more accurate "definitely" would have been rubbing salt in the wound.
Aramaki Makizou, otherwise known by the hated nicknames of Maki Maki or Mini Moustache, still slept, trying to sleep off the hang over from the day before. It was both made easier and more difficult by the fact that he was still drunk.
Suddenly someone burst through his front door.
"Urgh," he groaned as he slunk away from the light. "Whoever it is go away!"
A large hand grasped the front of his robe. "Fight me and I will!"
He knew that voice anywhere. "C-Captain Zaraki...I'd rather not."
"Maki Maki, wake up!" said an annoyingly cheerful voice.
"Lieutenant Yachiru...How can I help you?"
Without further ado Zaraki picked up Makizou and slung him over his shoulder. "You're coming with me."
Yachiru perched on Makizou's head. He was too drunk to argue with either of them. "So, where did you say I was going," he slurred.
"Squad Four," grunted Zaraki shortly. His lieutenant was a little more forthcoming.
"You're going to stay in Squad Four, Maki Maki!" cheerfully explained Yachiru as she swung on his ear. Some of the pain caused by this penetrated Makizou's drunken stupor.
"I'm -ow- going -ow- where?"
"Squad Four, so we don't fight each other." Some of this made sense to Makizou. Over the last few weeks there had been an increase in the number of arguments between Squad Four and Squad Eleven. More taunts and threats from Squad Eleven. And Squad Four...Well, they hadn't actually done anything. But Makizou had heard rumours of bandages being too tight, of injections hurting more than usual. It was only little things, but considering that, since Squad Eleven were constantly hurting themselves, Squad Four was pretty much the only reason there still was a Squad Eleven...It was kind of scary.
And it made perfect sense to Makizou that him being there would stop the fighting.
He was still drunk, after all.
About half way there Yachiru began swinging on his nose.
That made sense too.
Hanatarou stood next to his Captain and lieutenant, waiting for Zaraki. They had been there a while, but, considering Lieutenant Yachiru's infamous reputation for awful directions, no-one would be surprised if they arrived late.
Or even the next day.
In fact, no-one would be surprised if they arrived next week.
Hanatarou really wouldn't mind that much either.
Unfortunately for him, Captain Zaraki and Lieutenant Yachiru arrived only moderately late. Captain Zaraki had a Squad Eleven member slung over his shoulder.
"Good Morning, Captain Zaraki," greeted Unohana politely. "This Division Exchange Program will no doubt lead to better relations between our Squads."
"Yeah, sure," grunted Zaraki before throwing the drunken man to them.
That wasn't a figure of speech. He literally threw the man at the ground near Unohana's feet, where he begun groaning, tried to stand up, failed and decided to accept his losses and just groan some more.
"Oh, dear," sighed Unohana. "He seems to be drunk."
"Hammered hic," corrected the drunken Squad Eleven member at Unohana's feet.
"Guess that means you'll get more practice healing," Zaraki said, completely unconcerned. "So, if that's all, I guess we should-"
"Captain Zaraki," interrupted Unohana, smiling politely. "Aren't you forgetting something."
Zaraki thought. "Nope."
"Someone?" she prompted, still cheerful.
Zaraki thought, looked at his shoulder where Yachiru was looking childish, like she always did. He pointed to himself, pointed to her, looked at his fingers. Counted two. "Nope."
"Captain Zaraki, this is the Division Exchange Program," hinted Unohana, being as subtle as a frying pan to the face, and still being very nice about it.
"Generally exchange means you exchange something."
Zaraki was getting a bad feeling. "Yeah, I gave you my guy."
"But you haven't taken mine."
"Ah- you're kidding. You mean I have to deal with some pansy Squad Four member?"
Unohana was looking nicer than normal. "Weren't you listening to that part of the Captain's meeting yesterday?"
"...My mind may have been somewhere else."
Like in his little toe, thought Hanatarou, then got scared for thinking it in case the Captain somehow picked up the vibes of his thought and beat him up.
"Oh. And where was that?"
"Kenny was thinking of fighting!" rejoiced Yachiru.
'Kenny' had the grace to look guilty. For about half a second. Or it may have been a random twitch. "Okay," he sighed. "Who do I have to take?"
Isane pushed Hanatarou so he had to take a step forward. "Him," she pronounced.
"Does he have a name?" asked Zaraki.
There was a brief silence.
Hanatarou helpfully held up the board with his name on it.
"Hanatarou Yamada," said Unohana, pretending she hadn't glanced at the board.
Zaraki was looking at it in confusion. "Why do you have your name on a board?"
"He will be staying with you for a week from today," announced Captain Unohana.
Hanatarou briefly wanted to die.
It was brief because then he remembered that he probably would.
And one glance at Zaraki's face turned that 'probably' into a 'definitely'.
"Okay, let's go," Zaraki said as he slung Hanatarou over his shoulder, luggage and all.
"Yay, more friends!" rejoiced Yachiru. She waved happily at Captain Unohana and Lieutenant Isane. Makizou was too out of it to notice.
Captain Unohana and Lieutenant Isane smiled and waved too. Out of the corner of her mouth Isane said, "I don't want to be negative… But how long do you give him to live?"
"Isane," gently reprimanded Unohana out of the corner of her mouth. "That isn't very nice."
"Sorry," apologized Isane. A moment later she said, "so would you say three days?"
"I would say one and a half if he's lucky."
"Shall I set up a special bed that's ready for him when he comes back?"
"Good idea." Both of them watched them go, feeling guilty about giving the poor, innocent man to Squad Eleven. Then they turned back to the drunk man on the floor.
"You know," said Isane. "We should probably check that he's actually from Division Eleven. I wouldn't put it past Captain Zaraki to pick up a random drunk off the street and give him to us."
"I think he's saying something."
"Yeah, you're right." Isane knelt down and listened.
"...I'll stab you...No, I'll hit you...Yeah, you wanna fight?"
She stood. "He's from Squad Eleven." She kicked him.
"Lieutenant, may I ask why you are kicking a drunk man?"
"Because he will probably object to me kicking him when he isn't drunk." She kicked him again.
"So why are you kicking him?"
"To save time." She mushed her foot into his face. "Being from Squad Eleven he's guaranteed to annoy me sooner or later. Look at it like paying before you buy- OW! HE BIT MY FOOT!" She kicked his in the kidneys this time.
"We'd better prepare a bed for him."
Hanatarou was getting uncomfortably jostled. Zaraki didn't have a very smooth run. And his uncomfortably large muscles weren't that accommodating either.
"Who are you?" asked Yachiru cheerfully.
"Ha-na-ta-ro-Ya-ma-da," recited Yachiru, reading from the board she had somehow gotten hold of. "Who's that?"
Yachiru looked at the board. She looked at Hanatarou. She smiled and said, "Droopy!"
"Droopy, because you have droopy eyes."
"...If you say so," mumbled Hanatarou.
"So what exactly does your Zanpakto do?" asked Zaraki roughly.
"STOP STUTTERING AND GIVE ME AN ANSWER!"
"AH! It takes away wounds!" squealed Hanatarou, which Lieutenant Yachiru seemed to find entertaining.
"Droopy made a funny sound!" she laughed.
"Takes away wounds? Urgh, what a pathetic power."
"I know," acknowledged Hanatarou miserably.
"NO YOU DON'T!" roared Zaraki.
"No, you're absolutely right, I don't know anything!" babbled Hanatarou.
"IF SOMEONE INSULTS YOU, YOU DEFEND YOURSELF!"
"AND YOU DON'T SAY THEY'RE RIGHT!"
"AND YOU DEFINATELY, ABOVE ALL, DO NOT APOLOGISE!"
"Oh, Kenny's shouting," pointed out Yachiru, like she was pointing out someone doing something childish and naughty.
"You don't APOLOGISE to the person who INSULTS YOU. You BEAT THEM INTO SUBMISSION!"
"I-I don't think I c-could-"
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT STUTTERING?"
"AND WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT APOLOGISING!"
Hanatarou spared a moment for thought before hesitatingly summarizing, "so you want me to fight when someone says something, attack you and never apologize?"
Hanatarou 's hearing wouldn't be returning for a while.
Captain Unohana had gone straight to her office, then began counting the seconds. She got to three before someone knocked on her door.
"Come in," she called calmly.
Isane burst through, panting like she'd come at full speed. "C-captain, it's the Squad Eleven man!"
"I thought it would be." She followed Isane to the bed they'd set up for the man. The man, who, for reasons easily visible, everyone was calling 'Mini Moustache', was on his feet. The term was to be used loosely, as he seemed to be putting more weight onto the wall he was leaning on than on his feet.
Mini Moustache was, at that time, stumbling around and threatening to fight anyone within ten feet.
Safe to say, the room had been evacuated.
In fact, the corridor and all the rooms around Mini Moustache had been evacuated too. There were now little barricades made of desks and chairs at each end of the corridor which seemed to be the only attempt at defence the entire Division was able to make.
"What're you hic looking at," hiccupped Mini Moustache when Unohana and Isane walked into the room.
"Captain, I really think this situation is too dangerous," urged Isane.
"Oh, I think he's harmless," Captain Unohana said nicely as she smiled at Mini Moustache.
"Harmless? He's been threatening anyone within ten feet since he got here! And that's only been a few minutes! Obviously he's dangerous!"
"Lieutenant, look closer, if you will."
Isane looked at him. He accused her of being a magic pumpkin. She looked at her Captain. "I fail to see your point."
"He's stumbling around like his legs are dislocated and I would be surprised if he was clear-minded enough to tell us apart."
Mini Moustache began attacking a bin which he thought looked at him meanly.
"Yes, but he's from Division Eleven. None of that will stop him from attacking everyone and everything near."
Mini Moustache threw up over the bin. "Yer, take hic that."
Hanatarou regarded it as a miracle that they finally managed to arrive at the Division Eleven barracks. Lieutenant Yachiru truly did contain the capacity to make anyone anywhere lost. He knew the roads around Division Four barracks like the backs of his hands, yet, within two minutes of travelling with the Captain and Lieutenant of Squad Eleven, it was like he had never set foot in the Seireitei. He had no idea where he was, and Lieutenant Yachiru kept yelling "LEFT, LEFT!"
So Hanatarou regarded it as a miracle they arrived.
That is, until Division Eleven noticed him.
Actually, it was less notice than be forced to acknowledge his presence by Captain Zaraki's loud voice.
"HEY, YOU LOT!" he yelled as he threw Hanatarou on the ground in front of him. "NEW SQUAD MEMBER! DON'T BREAK HIM!"
Then, with those words of wisdom, he and the Lieutenant abandoned Hanatarou, probably in favour if fighting some random person who looked at Zaraki funny.
Hanatarou looked, very slowly, around.
"Um," he said as he slowly crawled to his feet, then inclined his head to everyone present. "H-hello."
"Hey, it's the pansy from Squad Four," said a bald one.
"You mean the one who's supposed to teach us how to get along?" asked another haughtily. "How is he supposed to do that when he's so...Ugly. I mean his eyes positively droop."
The bald one walked up to Hanatarou.
"I'm Ikkaku, third seat," he announced.
"N-nice to-" began Hanatarou before Ikkaku punched him in the stomach. Hanatarou doubled over, wheezing a little before falling onto the ground.
"Huh," said Ikkaku, hands on hips. "Not very tough, are you?"
Hanatarou twitched a little. Ikkaku took that as a negative. Ikkaku watched the Squad four member twitch some more. "So, what's you name, pansy?"
"Hanatarou Yamada," groaned Hanatarou as he got up. Ikkaku immediately tripped him up, which winded him as he landed on his back. Looking up, he could see two Division Four members standing over him.
"My name is Aesegawa, fifth seat," said the one with a complexion even Hanatarou, who not only had no knowledge of beauty or skin, other than the various infections it could have, and who thought that he was probably dying, had to regard as perfect. "A much more beautiful name than yours. What was it again?"
"Yamada," wheezed Hanatarou.
"...Whatever," said Aesegawa. "It's not beautiful enough to remember. Not doubt your seat is a particularly ugly one as well. I don't think you're strong enough to be a fourth seater, so really the only seat I would have a problem with you being with is..." Aesegawa's eyes had come in contact with Hanatarou's sign. Aesegawa's eye twitched. "...seven. What a repulsive number. Get it out of my sight immediately!"
Hanatarou turned the sign over, hoping that it would make Aesegawa go away and not hurt him.
He was promptly kicked in the side.
"That's for being ugly!" huffed the man before prancing off, reminding Hanatarou of an offended pony
Ikkaku gave Hanatarou, who was now positive he was dying, a considering look. "Do you like to fight?"
Hanatarou groaned a negative.
Ikkaku looked a little disappointed before temporarily perking up. "Can you fight?"
Hanatarou groaned another negative.
Ikkaku, with a disappointed expression, kicked Hanatarou's other side for good measure before going after Aesegawa.
Hanatarou lay there and pretended to be dead for a while. A few members of Division Eleven came over and saw him.
"It seems to be that pansy from Squad Four we're supposed to be hosting."
"Is he still alive?"
"Do you think he can fight?"
"Huh. Wonder if he does tricks."
They wandered off.
After a while Lieutenant Yachiru popped into his line of sight.
"Yay, Droopy!" she cheered. Hanatarou stopped being dead for a moment, seeing as Yachiru was the only one who seemed to be capable of being remotely nice to him out of all the Eleventh Division.
And she was a candy-addicted pink-haired child who bit people. Go figure.
"Hello, Lieutenant Yachiru." He couldn't see Captain Zaraki. Well, it wasn't like he actually tried, but no one was shouting at him, so he assumed the Captain wasn't in the immediate vicinity. "Have you lost Captain Zaraki?"
Yachiru smiled. "No. Kenny got lost because he wouldn't follow my directions so I got bored. Are you bored?"
"Not particularly," Hanatarou groaned a little.
"Well, you seem bored. I know!" Yachiru clapped her hands as she had an idea. "I'll make you happy!"
"...Oh, goody," rejoiced Hanatarou half-heartedly. Yachiru looked down at him, seemingly confused by his lack of enthusiasm. He tried to make amends. "I like being happy. Yay for happiness!"
"That's the spirit!" Yachiru cheered and then proceeded to try and make Hanatarou happy by drawing a smiley face on him. "There. Now since you look happy, you'll be happy." Then she wandered off, probably to go find Captain Zaraki.
Hanatarou decided he should probably go to his accommodations before someone else came along. Unfortunately, he had no idea where they were.
Hanatarou didn't want to ask for directions.
He really didn't want to ask.
In fact, if it came down to it he would rather jump off the nearest cliff than approach one of the volatile members of Division Eleven.
But it appeared he had no choice so he went up to the nearest Division Eleven member and tapped them on the shoulder.
"Excuse me could you IT HURTS IT HURTS!"
The arm which had roughly seized his and twisted it round his back let go. "Oh, it's just the pansy from Squad Four."
Hanatarou spared a moment to wonder why everyone immediately knew who he was.
He didn't wonder why everyone called him a 'pansy'. It was fairly obvious.
"I-if it wouldn't b-be too much to ask for, c-could you point me to my acc-accommodations," asked Hanatarou nervously.
"...Will you fight me if I do?"
"No, thankyou," Hanatarou said quickly.
The Division Eleven member regarded him. "Will you fight me anyway?"
"...Will you fight me if I hit you?"
"What, not even if I kick you in the kidneys?" asked the Division Eleven member in disbelief.
Hanatarou winced. "No."
"No? What would you do, then?" questioned the man further, as if he genuinely didn't know what one would do instead of attacking back (because no-one in Squad Eleven would defend. It would just be attacking in reply) when attacked.
Or looked at funny.
Or even just for the heck of it.
"...Probably twitch a bit before dying a painful death," admitted Hanatarou morosely.
The Division Eleven member looked at him in disbelief. "Man, you really are a pansy. What's your name?"
"...Pansy suits you better."
"I know," miserably acknowledged Hanatarou.
"Your room's right there," the man gestured to a small-looking house. "It's the room of...Uh...What was his name...We called him Mini Moustache...Whatever, your rooms over there."
He then wandered off, probably to attack someone.
While Hanatarou began walking to the house he felt a moment's worth of pity for who ever had been sent to Squad Four, who seemed to have been, like him, one of the worthless people who never really did anything useful, and who no-one ever remembered.
That pity died a horrible death when he stepped inside 'Mini Mustache's' room.
"This is a bad idea," murmured Lieutenant Isane to herself, fidgeting with her silver braids in anxiety. Only a few moments ago her Captain had informed her in that gently, happy way she had, that she'd be taking care of this.
Now Captain Unohana was stepping towards the drunken man.
The drunk looked around blearily at the movement. He burped and sliced at the air. Isane's breath caught in her lungs but her concern was momentarily wasted, as the man had been slicing in the complete opposite direction.
"Huh? Where'd you go?" he mumbled even though Unohana hadn't moved a step. She was smiling at him.
"Please would you put away your Zanpakto?" she asked.
The man looked like he was going to laugh, then thought better of it, probably as it would have made him throw up again. "No way, you long-haired hippie! Stand still and fight me!" He began waving his sword at Unohana, somehow managing to miss every single swing, despite her not moving an inch.
Nevertheless, it alarmed Isane. "Captain! Please, allow me..."
She wasn't quite sure what happened next.
All that she knew was, one moment, the drunken fool was waving around his Zanpakto, the next he was snoring on the ground and Unohana was, as always, looking nice and motherly.
"Allow you to what, lieutenant? All it took was a little injection," Unohana said, still smiling. Isane decided not to point out that not only did she see no needle, which they occasionally used, but she hadn't actually seen Unohana inject the man. She hadn't even seen Unohana move. "We should get him onto a bed. We should probably strap him down this time. Also, Lieutenant, could you get someone to clean all this up?"
Hanatarou gaped at the messy abode as his set his luggage and sign (the latter of which was bigger than the former) down.
"This isn't a house, it's a dump," he muttered as he shut the door behind him. There were piles of bottles, random wrappers of food, bowls which needed washing, more bottles, what looked like a bunch of random objects from the street which had managed to fin their way inside the house and even more bottles.
The bottles all smelled of different kinds of alcohol.
It looked like this 'Mini Moustache' not only drank Sake, but also other alcohols like wine, spirits and other funny-smelling beverages. He drank all kinds, and he drank a lot.
And, in what Hanatarou was discovering as typical Squad Eleven manner, had just put aside the rubbish.
He sighed, knowing he could never live in this place unless he began cleaning. At least he got to utilize his talents...
Which, as Hanatarou found as he looked up, vaguely wondering how the bottle which seemed to be stuck on the ceiling was staying up, wasn't a great consolation.
As Hanatarou begun, first cleaning off the marks from his face which formed the smiley face Yachiru had drawn on, he thought of his home back in Division Four, and wondered how much he would have to clean when he got home.
Or how much he would have to rebuild.
Or if there would be anything to rebuild.
Or even if he would actually go home, instead of dying there.
He found out that the bottle was stuck to the ceiling by a random substance which he decided not to think about and just clean off. After what seemed like a long while but was actually only a short one, Hanatarou being rather talented at cleaning, he was finally doing the washing with the door wide open to air out the place, which smelled like it hadn't had fresh air inside for...Well, ever, really. Hanatarou wouldn't be surprised if, somehow, the air which had first been in there had become stale immediately after drifting in.
Inside, the house was actually fairly nice. Everything which was rubbish had been thrown out, stains had been cleaned off, and everything which Hanatarou really wasn't sure about, he just put on a shelf in the corner. The objects of the shelf now included a Mexican hat, a large stuffed animal of some kind which Hanatarou was fairly certain was a weasel and a cheese grater.
He was hanging the washing up outside and found he was subject to many curious glances. After a short while some began to wander over and ask what he was doing. The first was Ikkaku.
"Because it was dirty," Hanatarou told him. "Although I'm not sure this stuff actually belongs to him."
Hanatarou held up a lacy black bra.
"Ah. Well...I'll just leave you to it," Ikkaku told him before wandering off innocently. Hanatarou, not being a complete idiot, was immediately suspicious.
Sure enough, when he looked back to the pile of washing, it had doubled in size.
Ikkaku turned around, hand on his Zanpakto hilt. "What?"
Ikkaku walked off. Hanatarou kept going, hanging up a series of clothes which included a baby's bib and something which Hanatarou really hoped was a large, lumpy sock, when Aesegawa wandered over.
"So...washing...It's a very ugly occupation."
Hanatarou looked away for a moment as he hung one of Ikkaku's robes up, cheerful because the washing was almost finished, said, "I suppose. But somebody has to do it."
"I'm glad you volunteered. Try not to crease my things."
When Hanatarou, very slowly turned around, his pile of things to wash had tripled in size and Aesegawa had disappeared. Hanatarou sighed and got on with it, unable to help noticing that Aesegawa's clothes were all well made and silkier than any of the other clothes he had worn so far.
Gradually what seemed like, and probably was, every single member of Division Eleven, wandered over, as if by random, not even carrying on extra piece of clothing and then left in a hurry. Every time this happened Hanatarou's pile of clothing to wash grew some more.
A few asked him if he wanted to fight.
Hanatarou always politely declined.
He also noticed that rather a lot of the clothing was stained by blood.
And other bodily fluids that he would rather not know about.
It was particularly hot that day (Hanatarou did the washing in the shade before hanging it in the sun) so the clothes dried fairly quickly. Hanatarou was fairly happy about the process of clothes distribution after they dried. Random members of Division Eleven just drifted over, said a few words to Hanatarou (Usually something along the lines of 'Want to fight, Pansy?") before drifting off, and the line would have less on it than before they had come. Of course, there were a few disputes over who's clothes were who's, especially since all the robes looked the same. And even if their clothes were completely different, they'd pick a fight over them anyway. Hanatarou just ignored this and washed the newly-bloodied robes when they were handed to him.
Even Yachiru came to him eventually. She was dragging a large pile of clothes in a fairly obvious way. "Hiiiiiiii, Droopy!" she called. "I have some clothes for you to wash!"
Hanatarou sighed, got up, took the clothes and added them to his pile. "All these are yours?"
"Nope. Some are Kenny's."
"Of course they are," Hanatarou said as he held up a large, blood-stained (more than the others) robe big enough to accommodate about ten Hanatarous. While he was washing he oversized robes, Yachiru decided to hang around.
"Droopy is funny," she said cheerfully.
"I'm glad you think so," Hanatarou said, touched.
"It's funny when he twitches!"
Hanatarou wasn't so touched.
"And thinks he's dying."
Hanatarou was decidedly less touched.
"And makes funny groaning noises."
Hanatarou wasn't touched in the least.
"Lieutenant Yachiru, are these yours?" asked Hanatarou as he held up a fluffy red and white dress, partly out of genuine curiosity and partly to change the subject.
"Of course they are, silly! Kenny wouldn't fit in those!"
"...Yes, but...It's red."
"Red is a nice colour."
"...The dress was originally white. I can see the white bits."
"Red is a nice colour," repeated Yachiru with a big smile.
"Yes, but...This is blood. How would this much blood get on a white dress which you were wearing?" asked Hanatarou as he began to wash to dress in question, wondering if he'd ever heard of lieutenant Yachiru wearing a dress before. He didn't think he had.
"I wear that dress when I'm rejoicing in the death of my enemies," Yachiru pronounced happily as she began balancing on the washing line.
Hanatarou was a little creeped-out by this, but there had to be a reason she was in Squad Eleven, so he continued. "But...this dress in almost completely red."
"My enemies bleed a lot."
"But how would it get onto your dress?"
"I like red." Yachiru grinned.
"That still doesn't explain-"
"I like red so much that when I rejoice in the death of my enemies, I play in their blood."
Hanatarou felt that he may be sick.
"Sometimes it's still squirting out when I play in it, so it's like a red shower."
Probably would be sick.
"And I like rolling in it too."
Definitely would be sick.
"I really like red!" finished Yachiru happily. She looked at Hanatarou. "I also like green, which is the colour of your face right now."
"Urgh," replied Hanatarou. He took a few deep breaths and hung up the last of the washing. "There, done."
"Yaaaaaaay!" cheered Yachiru.
For a moment, Hanatarou almost felt like cheering with her.
"Now Droopy can play with me!" Yachiru rejoiced.
Hanatarou didn't feel like cheering any more.