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If Life Gives You Lemons...	By : PrplGrl Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2983 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-You Know It's Going to be a Bad Day When....
- 1
A/N: Hey! I thank all
who reviewed (and those who just enjoyed it!) and saying I haven’t given up on
this!! To start, I simply revamped the
chapter a little bit; changed a word here and there, fixed the few spelling
errors, that type of thing. I promise
the second chapter is in the works right now, but please enjoy the beginning
again!! Reviews are always welcome! Thank you!
-Prpl Grl

If
Life Gives You Lemons…

Part 1: “You Know It’s Going to be a Bad Day When…”

The sunlight pierced through the
slightly open curtains to shine unmercifully onto Ishida Uryuu’s face. A groan slipped passed his lips at the
harshness of the light and turned over in his bed, raising the blanket to cover
his face and block out the sharp sun.
His mind slowly pulled itself from the soft nothingness of sleep only to
ask why the sun was shining its infernal light directly onto his pillow; it never
had before, unless he slept in.

Dark blue eyes suddenly whipped
open and the still groggy Quincy sat straight up and grabbed his digital clock
from the nightstand. His orbs widened
further as the time read a little more than an hour after the alarm he’d set.

“What the hell?!” he growled,
tossing the blanket aside and standing from his comfortable bed. It was then he heard the soft sound emanating
quietly from the clock. It kind of
sounded like the usual alarm, only severely muted and slightly slower. A scowl touched his face as he tossed the now
useless alarm clock behind his shoulder.
“Of course it breaks now! The damn thing was working fine yesterday!”
Uryuu grumbled to himself as he quickly darted to the bathroom.

Running a comb quickly through his
messy midnight blue locks, he reached for his toothbrush with his other hand. Throwing the hairbrush onto the counter, his
fingers curled around his almost empty tube of toothpaste. A pathetic whimper managed to escape his
frustrated frown at finding hardly any of the minty substance left at all. He was able to squeeze out just barely enough
to get the job done, then swiftly darted to his dresser and pulled out his
customary school uniform.

Almost tearing his nightclothes as
he removed them, Ishida grabbed his pants and started putting them on. His right leg fit in with no problems, but
his left foot got caught in a fold of the fabric and lost his balance in his
haste. He fell backwards with nothing to
catch him.

Bam!

Except maybe the
wall. Uryuu moaned in pain, hands
reaching up to wrap around the back of his head as sharp jolts of pain shot
from the small lump already forming on his skull. He blinked back the tears that stung the
edges of his eyes as he pulled his pants up the rest of the way on the floor,
zipping and buckling them up just as quickly before he got to his feet.

Thankfully, putting on his socks,
shirt and tie met with no banging of his head against the wall, although his
head did not care for the fast speed after just gotten whacked. Without a minute to spare, the Quincy put on
his glasses and grabbed his book bag before tearing out of his room and in no
time he was running down the busy morning streets.

Usually, it only would have taken
him just a few short minutes to run to school, but today there seemed to be
about three times as much traffic and Uryuu had to spend several long extra
moments waiting for cars to pass, people to move, and dogs to stop sniffing his
crotch while he was waiting.

He barely made it before the final
bell rang for first period. Some of the
students stared at him while he panted at his desk, sweat glistening on his
forehead, and he prayed he’d remembered to put on some deodorant. As calmly as possible, Ishida removed his
text books from his bag and placed them carefully into the small desk and
hanging the bag onto the hook on the side before sitting down.

Snap!

No sooner had he placed his ass
onto the seat did the sound hit his ears, followed by the softer sound of cloth
hitting the floor. He immediately looked
on the side of the desk to find the metal hook had broken off and his poor
abused book bag had fallen onto the floor.
A midnight blue eyebrow twitched as he shoved the bag underneath his
seat and settled himself in, trying to convince
himself not to worry about it.

With a long sigh, Uryuu sat
straight and listened as the teacher began the class.

By the start of second period, Ishida
was beginning to feel a bit better. As
he changed clothes for physical education, he contemplated how waking up late
could possibly ruin one’s whole day. His
head still hurt a little, especially when he put his t-shirt on, but so far the
day wasn’t going completely down the toilet.

Uryuu was a bit disappointed at
being told to run laps; the words hadn’t been invented yet to describe how much
he loathed this class, but he found himself almost wishing to be a girl. Volleyball sounded so much more fun and it
would actually stimulate his mind instead of shut it off. Damn teacher.

Adjusting his glasses, the Quincy
took a spot on the track and began jogging at the signal; no point in
over-doing it. It didn’t take long for
him to start feeling just the tiniest bit tired, after all he had already run
as fast as possible today. He slowed and
merged himself into the farthest lane, leaving the damn jocks to show off their
speed to the others. Ishida got momentarily
distracted as a blur of spiky orange hair shot passed him.

Dark blue eyes followed Kurosaki
Ichigo as he ran around the track, his buddy Asano Keigo
right on his tail, seeming to egg his friend on as they raced each other. For some reason, Uryuu had a tough time
removing his gaze from his classmate as he ran swiftly. Sweat was already beginning to appear on his
forehead, causing some of his orange tresses to cling to his skin in a very… sexy fashion.

Uryuu shook his head as the thought
occurred, forcing his eyes back to the lane in front of him. Had his face not already been flushed from
the exertion of running, he knew he’d be blushing. There was just something about that
particular soul reaper that awakened something inside the Quincy, and he was
really too afraid to know what it was.
It didn’t stop him from finding words for it; like Ichigo was able to
stir up Ishida’s… more feminine side,
which causes the irritating blushes and pictures one only finds in girly
magazines.

He couldn’t help but to feel it,
and wasn’t entirely sure when these feelings had first manifested, perhaps they
had always been there. Uryuu wouldn’t be
surprised, there were many times when he’d adamantly refused to see or acknowledge
things in the past. He just hoped that
these new… images he had with a very naked and very sexy Kurosaki Ichigo were
nothing more than an innocent crush and not actually lo—

Ishida grunted as a heavy weight
suddenly slammed into his back, pushing him sideways to land almost violently on
his shoulder in the rough gravel beside the track. He groaned in pain; his back along with his
shoulder now hurt and the arm he landed on was stinging like mad. Thankfully, his glasses remained on his face,
only slightly askew. He slowly sat up to
glare at the bastard who had pushed him, only to have his eyes meet with a pair
of concerned auburn.

Ichigo gave the Quincy a stern
frown. “Sorry about that, Ishida,” he
said around pants, kneeling next to the paler teen. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Uryuu stated quickly,
looking away and trying to stand. He
ignored the pain that shot from his shoulder, the throb in his back and the
stinging from his arm.

“Hey, Ishida, you’re bleeding!” the
orange-haired teen exclaimed, grabbing the Quincy’s wrist and looking at his
forearm closely. Nothing was very deep,
but there were several scratches and cuts across his pale skin, the deep red
blood slowly oozing from the minor wounds casting an ugly contrast.

“It’s nothing, Kurosaki,” Uryuu
insisted, unsuccessful in pulling his arm away from the shinigami. ‘…his
hands are calloused,’ his mind whispered.
He blinked at the thought and glared at Ichigo. “Let go, damn it!”

“What’s going on?” their burly
teacher asked, walking through the small crowd to stand beside them.

“It’s nothing serious, Kagine-sensei,” the Quincy responded quickly, finally
freeing his injured arm.

The military-esque
sensei also looked carefully at the paler teen, lightly shaking his head. “Can’t take any chances, Ishida,” he said
with a stern tone. “You need to go to
the nurse and get that bandaged up before it gets infected.”

Before Uryuu could object, Ichigo
stepped in front of him. “I’ll take him
to the nurse,” the soul reaper said, grabbing the pale teen’s other arm and
dragging him back into the school.

“I’ll expect you back shortly,
Kurosaki!” Kagine shouted after them.

It wasn’t until they were inside
when the orange-haired teen released the Quincy. They walked side by side in silence, Uryuu
not really sure what to say for a long time.
His heart was beating frantically within his chest, but somehow he knew
it had nothing to do with the running.

“I don’t need an escort,” he said
finally, carefully adjusting his glasses further up on his nose.

Ichigo merely shrugged, not even
turning to look at the paler teen.
“Figured it was the least I could do, seeing as I was the one who pushed
you.”

“You don’t need to explain
yourself, Kurosaki,” Uryuu almost snapped, trying to straighten out his sore
back just a bit more. “I don’t really
care what happened and these injuries aren’t worth anybody’s time.”

The orange-haired teen sighed
softly. “You never change.”

“…I don’t care to.” The other left it at that, unnecessarily
making sure Ishida made it to the nurse’s station without trouble before
leaving him there. Uryuu could still
feel those calloused fingers on his bare arm, almost trembling at the thought
of having that feeling elsewhere on his pale skin.

The antibiotic ointment the nurse
had used stung a little as Uryuu went to third period. His arm was bandaged and he’d sat in the
small room the school had with an icepack on his shoulder to reduce the
possible swelling, as it had been really sore, and then had to walk all the way
back to the locker room to change. He
sat at his desk feeling just a little bit tired. ‘Will
this day ever end?’ he thought bitterly.
As the teacher began class, the Ishida hoped that this supposed line of
bad luck he seemed to be having was finally over; ‘what more can happen?’

“Okay, class,” their teacher announced. “Please get out your poetry journals and pass
them to the front! I can’t wait to read
what our little geniuses have come up with for the weekend!”

Uryuu sighed and reached into his
desk for the dark cover notebook he was using for the assignment. Only to find it wasn’t there. A midnight blue eyebrow rose as he pulled
hard on the bag he’d wedged beneath his seat earlier. It didn’t come without a fight, though, and Ishida
grasped it with two hands, tugging so hard that when it finally popped free, it
slammed directly into his face.

Rubbing his nose with one hand, and
ignoring the giggles from a few students around him, Uryuu fumbled through his
bag with the other. He glared hotly at
the sack when it refused to produce the object he needed. His much cherished poetry notebook was not
here; ‘it’s probably still sitting on my
desk at home!’ he thought angrily.
The Quincy had written the best poem ever, too.

For the first time, he placed his
face within his hands and quietly groaned.
‘I hate my life.’ Why was this happening?! What the hell had he done to deserve such
treatment?! Uryuu’s mind refused to give
him an answer as he continued to glare.

‘Today is obviously not my fucking day,’ he thought quietly,
completely missing the auburn eyes that stared at him from a few rows away.

When lunch finally rolled around,
after dealing with the further humiliation of one assignment he’d completely
forgot about and another he had done, but it was the wrong chapter and
following questions, Ishida was ready for some nice quiet time where nothing
could really go wrong.

It wasn’t until he’d gone outside
to sit beneath a small tree did he realize he’d forgotten his lunch. His stomach growled angrily as he sat in the
cool grass with his little book and began to read. ‘I can
handle this,’ his mind whispered triumphantly. ‘I’ve
gone a day or two without food before, no problem.’

At least, it wouldn’t have been a problem if that idiot Kurosaki and his posse
hadn’t decided to sit not ten feet away while they had their lunch. The aroma of delicious food easily reached his
nostrils and caused his stomach to growl once again. The Quincy glared over the top of his book;
he just couldn’t understand it. If he
had all these confusing and schoolgirl-ish feelings
for the shinigami, why did the little things he did just… infuriate Uryuu? ‘Why does he have to sit right there,’ he
raged within his head. ‘There are plenty of other spots in the
shade; why so close to me?!’

‘Just ignore them,’ the Quincy part of his mind ordered, to which
the pale teen immediately obeyed. He
buried his nose into the little information manual he had read several times;
all about different stitches, needles and threads. For some reason, however, he couldn’t focus
properly upon it. Uryuu’s mind quickly
began drifting off, wondering if maybe Ichigo knew he was being a pest and
actually enjoyed driving him up the
wall. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’

After several minutes of his
internal bantering, Uryuu slammed the tiny book shut. He was obviously too close for comfort with
the soul reaper and stood to move farther down the yard. He barely noticed the group around the
orange-haired teen standing as well.

“Hey, Ishida!”
Ichigo called out to him.

The Quincy ignored the other teen
and walked several feet away, a little disappointed at not being able to sit on
the grass or beneath a tree, but at least it was not near the damned shinigami! A soft sigh left his thin lips as he sat along
the concrete wall surrounding the school grounds and opened his book once
more. This would be better.

“Ishida! Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Uryuu groaned a little as he
glanced up at the orange-haired nuisance.
“I’m not interested, Kurosaki,” he spit out venomously.

Ichigo sighed heavily. “Look, we’re going inside and thought—”

“Like I said, not interested!” he
snapped, adjusting his glasses again and turning the page, although he wasn’t
really reading.

The other teen scowled down at
him. “Man, what crawled up your ass and
died?”

Uryuu growled dangerously. “In case you haven’t noticed, Kurosaki,”
he hissed the name like it was the vilest thing he’d ever had in his mouth,
“I’m having a bit of a bad day and I would like it if you would leave… me… alone!”

“But Ishida—”

“I’m not kidding!” the Quincy damn
near shouted. “Get the fuck away from me!”

“Fine, be that way,” Ichigo spat,
turning and walking toward the school, “Your ‘bad day’ is probably going to get
worse though.”

Uryuu turned his nose up and
continued to fake-read his book. He
glared angrily at the printed words for a while before he sighed heavily,
trying to calm himself down. The cool
wind blowing by helped a fraction to cool his heated skin and finally decided
that he could relax for a little bit.

Too bad he didn’t hear the downpour
coming until it actually hit. Ishida
flinched as rain started pouring from the sky, as if somebody had just turned
on a faucet, and immediately stood. ‘When the hell had storm
clouds passed over?!’ He
hadn’t even noticed when the sun vanished.
As calmly as he dared, and wearing his mightiest glare yet, Uryuu walked
to the building, passing through the doors to find Ichigo and company standing
there, watching him.

It did not improve his mood. Even Inoue Orihime
didn’t say a word; she just cowered a bit behind Arisawa
Tatsuki, who appeared to be a bit concerned.

Uryuu ignored them; his burning
gaze was set upon a certain substitute shinigami, who merely shrugged at the
drenched Quincy.

“I tried to tell you, Ishida,”
Ichigo said nonchalantly, “but you just wouldn’t listen.”

Water fell from his midnight blue
hair and mixed with the drops already covering his glasses, making colors weave
and shapes blurry, but the pale teen knew exactly where the orange-haired teen
was. He balled his free hand into a
fist; this was all Ichigo’s fault!
Instead of punching him, however, Uryuu threw his now ruined book at the
soul reaper, smacking him directly in the face.
It made a lovely splatter sound as it connected with the other teen’s
skin before it slapped wetly onto the floor.

Feeling just the tiniest bit
better, Ishida straightened his shoulders and proceeded to the bathrooms, not
caring to notice the other’s reaction.
Once inside, he grabbed some paper towels and carefully pulled off his
glasses to wipe the water from them. As
he began, some rowdy boys barged into the bathroom, laughing loudly and causing
a small headache to form in Uryuu’s right temple. One of the teen’s seemed to be dodging the
other’s fake punches, but they were mostly staying away from him, so Ishida ignored
it, continuing to make sure his lenses were clean and streak-free.

Suddenly someone brushed his sore
shoulder, making him flinch and turn to yell at the culprit, only to see a row
of knuckles headed right for his face.

Smack!
- 1
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If Life Gives You Lemons...