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Demon of Rukongia	By : OmniaVanitus Category: Bleach > General Views: 1457 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story and the original characters. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
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The gritty, medicinal tea made her grimace and it took several thick swallows against the bitter aftertaste just to keep it down, but Kaminari drank it obediently, per doctor’s orders.

She was sitting on the wooden walkway just outside her room, clad in a plain white yukata like so many of the other patients at the Fourth Division. Her cracked ribs had been mended easily enough with the liberal use of healing kidô, but her side was still tender to the touch. Her other injuries were healed though, and she predicted she’d be released soon.

The door to her room was slid open wide, letting in fresh air for the raven haired boy inside, dressed in a matching yukata. His hair was an untamed mess, but it was hardly a concern to him as he drew on a piece of paper one of the nurses had given him, only pausing in his artwork long enough to rub at tired blue eyes. Ryuko was still weak from the poison, but he was recovering quickly. No doubt he’d be released soon as well.

She blew a stream of cool air into her steaming cup just as she heard the approaching footfalls of a new visitor, and from the corner of her eye she could see it was a familiar baldheaded shinigami.

“How are you healing,” he asked.

“I’m well,” she answered, taking in his gleaming forehead and clean black uniform. “I take it they’ve discharged you?”

“Yeah, just now.” Ikkaku leaned against a wooden post, casually crossing his thick arms over his broad chest as he watched her sip the medicinal tea and smirking at the pinched expression that followed.

The trembling nurses at the Fourth were always pestering their patients to drink their disgusting tea, but when it came to the Eleventh Divisioners , it would often lead to crushed tea pots, broken cups and the liquid itself being splattered across clean walls. It was a running joke at the Eleventh and Ikkaku would gladly take the cheapest sake over it any day of the week.

“I don’t know why you bother drinking that crap,” he finally said, “I sure as hell don’t.”

“If it means I get out of here sooner, then I’ll drink as much as I need to,” she replied evenly.

He gave an indifferent shrug. “Well if you’re interested in drinking something decent, then you’re welcome to come to my division tonight.”

“Oh, and what’s tonight?”

“A revelry.”

Kaminari gave a derisive laugh. “You’re inviting the Demon of Rukongai to a party,” she asked cynically. “How scandalous.”

“No,” he corrected, giving her his best scowl, “I’m inviting you.”

An unreadable expression flitted across her face, but it was gone in an instant. “So, what’s the occasion anyway?”

“We need a reason to get drunk?”

“I suppose not,” she conceded.

Ryuko emerged from their room then, the worn kimono wrapped around him tightly and trailing out behind him as he padded over to her and roughly situated himself against her side before bedding his head in her lap in an oddly possessive manner.

“We’ve been invited to a party,” she murmured to him with clear amusement in her voice as she combed her long fingers through his messy hair. “You up for it?”

He answered with a tired, noncommittal sound.

“There’ll be sake,” she tempted, “maybe even a few cute girls.” Her eyebrows rose in question.

“The women in my division rarely miss out on free sake,” Ikkaku admitted. “Rangiku will probably show up too.”

Ryuko nodded tiredly, mumbling his consent.

“Alright then,” Kaminari agreed and stood, gathering the small boy up in her arms, “but I think we could both do with a little nap before then.” Giving a farewell nod to the shinigami, she slid the door shut behind her.

The sun had set by the time the two finally arrived at the Eleventh and the sounds of rowdy merrymaking were already in the air.

Several drained sake bottles were strewn across the ground, lying empty and forgotten, while others lay in broken ruin next to barrack walls. Groups of men and women sat huddled together gambling away their money on liar’s dice and poker and it wasn’t surprising when a few drunken brawls erupted from out of nowhere. But most of the wild partygoers, however, contented themselves by drinking and laughing as they lounged around one of the many long low-sitting tables out in the courtyard.

It was here that Kaminari spotted the third and fifth seats, but when her eyes fell on two familiar captains, they motioned her over.

“I had a feeling you might be here, Shunsui,” she said sitting down next to them, “but do you always have to include Jûshirô in your delinquency?”

“First off,” he began as he handed her a sake filled cup, “I hardly consider a quiet evening with friends and alcohol an act of delinquency and secondly, yes. A good strategist always has a willing scapegoat on hand.”

The white haired captain frowned deeply in disapproval as Kaminari shook her head and leaned into him asking, “why are you still friends with him?”

“He steals my medicine,” Jûshirô admitted in mock irritation. “I have to be nice to him so he’ll give it back to me.”

Kyôraku waved a dismissive hand at them. “How else am I supposed to coax you off of your sickbed? And speaking of delinquency,” he said attempting to shift their attention when he noticed Kaminari filling Ryuko’s cup with the strong alcohol, “I see you’re contributing as well.”

“He’s feeling better so why not? Besides, you were the one who gave him his first sip of sake, Shunsui Kyôraku.”

“A rite of passage everyone should enjoy.”

She nodded slightly. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say your womanizing has rubbed off on him too.”

“Now it’s perfectly natural for a boy his age to be curious about girls.”

“Then perhaps Ryuko would like to tell you how many times he’s been caught peeping,” she replied giving the boy beside her a firm nudge.

“A gentleman never tells,” Ryuko said quickly and only a little bit sheepishly.

“A gentleman wouldn’t be spying on the girls when they’re trying to bathe.”

“Oi, Demon,” Madarame called suddenly from across the table. “I invited you here to get drunk, not listen to your nagging.”

Kaminari eyed him thoughtfully before slowly raising her cup to him in a mocking toast and promptly downed its entire contents. She was quickly joined by a few other men sitting nearby whom she easily identified as lieutenants by their arm badges.

One of them, a fiery red head, threw a heavy arm across his shoulders, giving Ikkaku what she supposed was an encouraging jostle. “It’s about time our baldheaded third seat started making some new friends.”

Madarame scowled at the obnoxious lieutenant and roughly shrugged him off. “As I’ve said more than enough times already, Abarai,” he growled out, “I’m not bald!”

Kaminari gave a derisive snort. “Then what are you?”

“I shave,” he stated curtly.

She pursed her lips together, trying hard to keep from saying whatever remark was sitting on the tip of her tongue and opting instead to swallow it down with another mouthful of sake. Ryuko on the other hand did not share in her censorship.

“Do you shave your coin purse too?”

The table erupted into a roar of guffaws and Ikkaku would have throttled the dark haired child if not for the heavily tattooed lieutenant holding him back when he made to lunge across the table. He was quickly distracted though, when a large jug of sake was shoved into his hands, and it wasn’t long before the group of men burst into a raucous drinking song that had everyone joining in, drunk and off key.

It was an hour or two later when a busty, strawberry-blonde glided in, her boisterous laughter more than enough to drown out the drunkenness around her and immediately garner the men's attention.

“Sorry I'm late boys,” she called out in a bright, cheery voice, “but you know how my captain is, always trying to make me finish paperwork when I've got plans.”

“Don’t you always have plans,” one of the men asked.

“Exactly,” she answered with a practiced pout, “you'd think he'd have learned by now.”

She settled in at the other end of the long table where several bottles of strong sake were already waiting for her along with a large, oversized cup that could have easily doubled as a soup bowl.

“Who’s that,” Ryuko asked, his voice tinted with just a little bit of awe.

“That’s Rangiku Matsumoto,” one of the lieutenants answered, a depressed looking blond whose hair covered part of his face, but not enough to hide his alcohol flushed cheeks. “She’s the Tenth Division’s lieutenant.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s not interested.” Pitch black hair, scars and a bold “69” tattoo, the lieutenant drained his cup before continuing. “What would a grown woman want with a little kid like you anyway?”

Ryuko answered with narrowed eyes and a stubborn pout, but Kaminari couldn’t help but offer him an encouraging nudge.

“Go on,” she whispered to the small boy, “see if she’ll pour you a drink.” That was all he needed to quickly jump to his feet and bound over to her.

They were out of earshot, but her delighted squeal and body language spoke volumes as she playfully poked and tickled him. And when the two had settled down next to each other and the busty blonde busied herself with pouring them both large cups of sake, Ryuko shot a brazen thumbs up at the two dumbfounded lieutenants at the other side of the table.

And with their mouths agape, the two men cried in unison, “truly he is a hero!”

“You were holding back,” Kaminari heard a familiar voice accuse from behind.

It was well into the night and while there were still several diehard partiers going strong, most had cleared out or past out. Even Shunsui and Jûshirô had left, though not long ago, leaving her to her own devices. So she had snagged a bottle of sake and slipped away unnoticed, or so she had thought, opting for a quiet moment alone.

“I could say the same thing about you,” she countered as she poured herself another drink. “Are you here for another rematch?”

“I’m here because I’m curious.”

“About?”

Ikkaku didn’t answer, and instead shuffled forward to claim a seat next to her, further intruding on her solitude. They were both quiet for awhile as they sat secluded on the walkway, staring out at the training field where they had fought just a few days earlier, but all the while he was watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Tell me,” he finally said, “do you have bankai?”

She paused at the sudden question, her cup raised halfway to her lips before she slowly lowered it and began to idly trace the rim with her fingertips. “Bankai requires a certain level of trust between wielder and blade, yes? Well I have none for mine,” she said darkly. She sipped at her sake before batting the question back to him. “And you, do you have bankai?”

Ikkaku grabbed the jug of sake from her and took a long pull from it. “There are three vacant captain’s positions available,” he answered evasively. “If I had bankai, wouldn’t I be after a promotion?”

“Probably,” she said thoughtfully, “unless you didn’t want to become a captain.”

He shook his head disbelievingly at how easily she had figured him out and quickly decided on a change of topic. “So where’d that brat of yours run off to?”

“Ryuko? Last I saw of him, he was passed out next to that large breasted lieutenant with a rather brave little hand tucked into her shihakusho.”

Ikkaku let out a bark of laughter at that. “Where’d you find him anyway?”

“I caught him trying to steal my zanpakutô,” Kaminari said with forced neutrality.

“And you just decided to take him in,” he asked suspiciously.

“Something like that,” she answered, not willing to offer up any further details. They fell silent again as they sat in darkness, sipping at their sake as the festivities quietly raged nearby.

“We barely made it out, you know,” Ikkaku finally said. “Yumichika and me.”

“Not many did,” she answered softly.

“Who was it that finally defeated you?”

“Shunsui Kyôraku.”

It sounded so random. A captain who would sooner reach for a jug of sake than his own sword only to go out of his way to fight her…“Why would he do that?”

“I’ve never asked.” At Ikkaku’s incredulous look, she sighed and continued on quietly. “I should be dead. Or at the very least rotting in the Maggot’s Nest. It’s because of Shunsui and Jûshirô that I’m not. That is why I do not ask.”

“Is that why you’re here, to satisfy some debt to them?”

“My business is my own,” she said firmly, but Ikkaku was undeterred.

“Are you going to become a shinigami?”

“No, but they want me to.”

“But you don’t.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think it would be a bad idea,” she confirmed.

He shook his head thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh, and what would you say?”

“That we could use another skilled fighter like yourself,” he answered without hesitation.

“As much as you could use another captain?” Kaminari reached over to reclaim her bottle of sake and added, “you have your reasons, Ikkaku, and I have mine.”

She poured herself another drink, only to end up with the last remaining dregs of alcohol instead. Kaminari frowned slightly in annoyance, but tossed the bottle aside and, with a tired sigh, the cup followed after it. With the sake gone and the conversation exhausted, she stood leave and Ikkaku quickly followed suit.

They walked in silence as they made their way back towards the dying festivities, each lost in their own thoughts when she suddenly stumbled into him. He caught her easily, but they both stilled in each other’s arms. And then in a few quick decisive steps, Ikkaku had her pressed up against the nearest wall as they eagerly began exchanging heated kisses.

He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard body as she slowly slid her own arms around his neck. Ikkaku fisted a strong hand in her long wavy hair, deepening their kiss and swallowing her throaty groan when he pressed a thigh in between hers. His thick arms tightened around her and in a flash of shunpo they were instantly standing in front of the door to his quarters.

They all but fell over the threshold, tearing at each other’s clothing as they made their way to his messy futon. Blame it on the cheap sake or a moment of convenience, either way it didn’t matter and they wasted little time immersing themselves in the heat of their passion.

He sheathed his length within her, instantly falling into fast steady pace as Kaminari wrapped her long legs around him. The sounds of their harsh panting filled the air, but it wasn’t long before he let out groan and stilled above her.

Ikkaku might have been embarrassed at how long he lasted if not for the alcohol thrumming in his gut, but then again this had little to do with mutual satisfaction and more to do with exorcizing demons.

Their breathing evened out as sleep quickly claimed them, at least until the early morning hours when Kaminari stirred next to him. Ikkaku was still fast asleep though, sprawled out on his small futon when she rose from his bed and quietly dressed. She slipped from his room soon after, off to reclaim her young ward, and never once bothering to look back.

His hands stung when their wooden bokkens clacked together, but he gritted his teeth against the pain. He was still weak from the effects of the poison and, not to mention, slightly hangover from the night before, and though they’d only been sparring for a matter of minutes his breathing was already labored and his brow damp with sweat.

But Ryuko was determined.

Even as his limbs shook with the effort to keep himself upright or to even hold onto the wooden sword in his hands, he persisted. So when Kaminari brought her bokken down again with a loud crack that echoed in the otherwise empty training area, he bit back the whimper and stood his ground on shaky legs.

“Block it,” she yelled, swinging the wooden sword again and her mouth curved into a pleased grin when he did. She nodded her approval and relaxed her stance, guiding him over to the two waiting captains seated on the wooden walkway nearby. They claimed a spot next to them and Kaminari tucked Ryuko to her side, letting him slump against her in exhaustion. The boy’s hand shook slightly when Jûshirô handed him a tea filled cup, but Kaminari quickly reached out to steady his grip. “Unohana will be cross with me if she finds out I let you over do it.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine as long as he gets plenty of rest to make up for it,” Jûshirô offered as he handed her her own cup of the fresh steaming tea.

She nodded in agreement before sipping the hot liquid and letting out a contented sigh. “It’s nice to finally have some decent tea,” she admitted.

“I know how you feel,” Jûshirô said with a soft chuckle. “I’ve drank enough of Fourth Division’s brew to drown myself in it.”

“You sure that wasn’t the point?”

“Actually, I’ve always thought it was their way of encouraging their patients to leave,” he answered with wry smile.

They fell into a companionable silence as they sipped their tea and Ryuko dozed peacefully next to them. But as Kaminari began to refill their cups, Shunsui cleared his throat.

“So,” he began, “have you given any thought to-“

“I’m not staying, Shunsui,” she stated firmly.

“You sure? Our annual fireworks festival is coming up soon.”

“Exactly,” she said pointedly. “You are still planning on serving my sake at your division’s stall again this year, yes?”

“Ah, I nearly forgot.”

“Of course you did,” Kaminari hummed, not entirely convinced. “Then perhaps you would like to confirm your order while we’re on the subject?”

“I have to confirm it,” Shunsui asked in surprise.

“You just said you forgot.”

“Nearly forgot,” he corrected.

“Nearly forgot,” she amended. “You did want ten barrels, right?”

“You know full well that the Eighth Division supplies the sake for these events,” Shunsui said with a hint of exasperation. “Ten barrels will barely even get us halfway through the night.”

“Fifteen then?”

“I believe my usual order is twenty.”

“Ah, twenty,” she said as she sipped her tea. “I forgot.”

It was Shunsui’s turn to hum skeptically and Jûshirô couldn’t suppress his soft chuckle.

“This year’s festival is supposed to be a rather grand event,” the sickly captain began, “to celebrate the end of the winter war. Yama-jii is even planning on opening the festivities with the kagami biraki ceremony.”

Kaminari tsked disapprovingly. “That’s a waste of perfectly good sake that.”

“Perhaps, but how often does the old man get to indulge in such grandeur,” Shunsui asked.

“Not often,” she admitted.

“And some would even see it as an honor to have their sake used for the ceremony,” Shunsui said, his voice tinted with something akin to pride.

“He wants to use my sake for the ceremony?”

“He does,” Jûshirô confirmed.

Kaminari worried her bottom lip, but eventually gave a soft sigh. “How many casks does he want?”

“Thirteen,” Jûshirô answered. “One to represent each division.”

“I’ll have to snag a few from Shingo’s stash,” she said thoughtfully, “maybe even recruit him into hauling them all up here. His sake won’t be cheap either,” she continued. “And he would much rather prefer to hoard it all and drink it himself. And I know he won’t be happy about having to come to the Seireitei.”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure he’s well compensated for his ‘pain and suffering’,” Jûshirô said with finality, once again refilling their cups.

Though Kaminari nodded in agreement, she was not thrilled about having to convince Shingo to part with any amount of his stock, let alone to get him to come back to the Seireitei with her.

But she’d deal with him when the time came.
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Demon of Rukongia