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08 June 2008 @ 11:47 pm
24 Chips - 17  
Theme: 04:00
Title: Night Terrors
Fandom: Bleach
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori
Category: Romantic
Rating: PG
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.
Disclaimer: Bleach =/= mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.
Summary: Part 17 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori ever saw Shinji afraid, it stung even more to know that it was – in her opinion – partially her fault. And despite the fact that she couldn’t blame the whole thing on herself, seeing as it had been his hollow that had dragged itself free of his control, it didn’t change the fact that she wanted to. Especially seeing as he’d been acting like a little pussy bitch for the last 2 days since then. And it was getting on her nerves.

Shinji wasn’t like that, he didn’t generally allow things to get to him so much, and the absence of his usually calm and able leadership was throwing the entire group into disarray because if Shinji couldn’t handle it, then how were the rest of them supposed to when he was the one guiding them?

Sliding down off the rock she’d settled herself onto, Hiyori mentally chided herself as she shied away involuntarily from putting her weight onto her right arm. It was stupid, Hachi had fixed it as good as new so there was no reason to be favouring it. Just a reflex, she assumed, seeing as how she’d have still been bandaged and monitored had they been in the 4th division’s barracks instead of this place. But either way, it was irritating and she didn’t feel like dealing with Shinji’s mood right now.

Stuffing small hands into the pockets of her red track pants, she loped off across the expanse of training ground to the door that led upstairs. To the part of the warehouse that was made to actually look something like a normal home. Bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom. All there, though they were certainly Spartan in regards to amenities. They didn’t need much, after all, and it wasn’t as though they were trying to impress anyone with a show of wealth. Shinji’s emptying of the fifth division’s treasury immediately prior to their flight had left them with plenty of funds for whatever they might need but it wasn’t as though they had an easy source of new income should they use that up.

Kicking open the door, she headed up the stairs, following the sense of gloom hanging heavy in the air – god, she hated it when he did that, the big baby – until she found it’s source. Curled up in a chair at the table, the same way he’d been since 4AM that morning, elbows resting against the polished wood, blond head in his hands. He looked so… lost, in a way. Like a little kid needing someone to pick him up and comfort him.

At least, that was the momentary thought before the flat of her sandal connected solidly with his head and sent him sprawling across the floor to glance up at her with a scared, bewildered look from the corner as she stood with hands on her hips, face pulled into a scowl.

“Cut it out, Shinji!”

He opened his mouth for a moment as if to protest, the words dying off in a sigh as he raked fingers through blond bangs with a shake of his head. She didn’t understand, wasn’t thinking straight. He could have killed her. And for what? Because he’d been a fool enough to think that they could try and master the hollows, to use them for their own means. To think they could become more than just damaged shinigami.

It had been an intriguing thought, that given the fact they’d already figured out how to subjugate the hollows perhaps they could figure out a way to utilize the increased strength and new abilities their masks gave them while still retaining their control. And it had worked – for a short while.

But not 30 seconds afterwards, he’d felt the hollow’s control surge and the next thing he remembered he was flat on the floor, Love and Risa’s swords at his throat and Rose and Kensei crouched protectively around Hiyori as she cradled her mangled arm to her chest, eyes wide in her face with shock. But no fear.

And that was almost worse than everything else. She should fear him, she should run the hell away as fast as her legs could take her but he knew she was too stubborn for that. So it was up to him then, to protect her – to protect all of them – by keeping his distance.

His musings interrupted by her foot crashing into the side of his head again, he scowled for a moment before eyes landed on her – now healed – arm and he flinched slightly, glancing away. Didn’t she understand that he’d just hurt her again?

Obviously not, as she continued to beat on him. Hiyori, for her part, was mostly just pissed off. Sure, he’d broken her arm in about 4 places and it had taken Hachi the better part of an hour to fix it, but that didn’t mean he got to act like a pissy little girl about it. Kicking him again, she scowled, crossing arms over her chest. She didn’t like seeing him like this, she’d never seen him look so afraid – and of himself, to boot – and it was more disconcerting than she wanted to admit.

“Get the hell up off the goddamned floor, Dickface and stop being such a fucking baby.”

He could be afraid if he fucking wanted to be, but she was damned well not going to let him sit there and be a little pussy. Which was precisely what she said as she landed another blow. She knew him, he wasn’t like this. He wasn’t one to give up and she wasn’t planning to let him do so. They needed him. So with another slap of her shoe, she turned around and walked back downstairs, stopping in the doorway for a moment.

“Get the fuck downstairs Baldy, or I’ll fucking drag your mentally deficient ass down there all by my goddamned self.”

She didn’t look back, but she knew she didn’t have to. She could already tell she’d gotten through to him. He’d be down in a few moments. And he’d probably think twice about letting fear get the better of himself again anytime soon.
Psyche: hyperhyper
twosentwosen on June 10th, 2008 03:17 am (UTC)
Another thing I love about your Hiyori is that you've written her so... agelessly, I suppose. She's not quite a kid, yet not any more 'grown up' per se despite all that character development and time you've put them through.

Also find the way the succeeding 'hours' just kinda match in a his-hers POV kinda way.

'scuse the incoherence, I haven't slept yet and the birds are starting to sing outside my window...
Neko-taichoutasogaretaichou on June 10th, 2008 03:19 am (UTC)
Well, that's actually one thing I see about her in canon, is that for all that she's obviously seen and experienced, she never seems to change. She's always the same impulsive, rude, noisy Hiyori.

Yeah, most of them alternate, but there's a couple points where it's 2 of his or 2 of hers in a row.
twosentwosen on June 11th, 2008 02:13 am (UTC)
I suppose when you've lived as long as the Vaizards, you'll have seen lots of things undergo change and the only thing that you can possibly keep constant is yourself, so that might be what Hiyori clings onto.