A/N: Dedicated to [livejournal.com profile] radical_ed57   because I know you like the random crazy! If it fails don't hesitate to say so. I can take it XD Defamation of character and OOC within. 


“Its-she’s very nice,” he managed with a mixture of relief and bafflement.

“Isn’t she?” Gin purred as he stroked the sides of milky white marble with both hands. He turned back to his Lieutenant, “she don’t say much but I think she suits you. Go ahead, have a feel.”

“Erm, um,” it must be the alcohol but he didn’t mind having a go, not at all. He walked forward and ran his hands over the cold surface; a grin lighting up his face as he did so.

Gin patted him on the shoulder in congratulations, his smile widening as he disappeared into the crowd.

“You have such perfect skin,” he cooed; his escape forgotten as he explored this Amazon of a woman. The music still beat into his skull, fashioning him new and less durable eardrums, but he didn’t care so much now. How could shamisens make such a racket? From where did that pounding originate? It wasn’t important, was it?

Two people passed close to him. He felt the displaced air through the thin fabric of his dress robes and turned to watch their progress. He was close enough to reach out to touch either of them without moving. Not that he would. 

“Wait Yumi,” an unknown woman whined as she dragged at the man’s slender wrist with lust fuelled eyes.

Yumichika stopped, and pivoted on the spot. Eyes that were formally wide narrowed in anger as he glared down at the offending appendage, “greens, purples and yellows would look ugly here. I don’t need another bracelet, thank you.”

The woman looked nonplussed, her grip in no way lessoning. Yumichika’s eyes narrowed further as his meaning went unheeded. “Kindly remove your hand! You’re bruising me!”

Her bottom lip began to tremble. Kira watched with widening eyes as she copied Yumichika’s movements, pivoting on the spot and flouncing away to hide her upset. She’d make a good copy he decided. Shit. With her gone there was no one to distract Yumichika from his presence. Please don’t let me be seen. Please don’t let me be seen. Too late, Yumichika felt eyes on him and turned to locate the potential admirer. He recognised the hairstyle immediately.

“Kira, have you seen my mirror?”

“Erm... no.”

“Oh. Bye then.”

Kira didn’t watch him leave as he turned back to his lucky find. “You’re so cold,” he continued, “here let me warm you up a little,” he whispered as his hands moved up and down her body in bold strokes.

“Kira! What you doing?”

Damn it all. Enough interruptions already. “What?” He asked irritably as he turned once more.

Renji was staggering towards him with a hand held to his stomach.

“What you doin’?” he repeated with a little less coherency.

“What does it look like?!” Just go away already.

“Looks like you’re making out with a pillar!”

“...”

Oh shit!

He was saved from answering by the sudden cut in music and a brightening of the lights as the darkness disappeared under the harsh glare of halogen. It was definitely time to leave. He moved in the vague direction of the exit, with Renji trailing behind him.

Marechiyo Omaeda stood by the entranceway completely blocking the way. Byakuya seemed incapable of speech as he looked up at the mountain, and tried to move past him with Yoruichi locked onto one arm and Soi Fong the other; making movement difficult.

“There will not be a repeat of last year,” Yamamoto chided as he walked towards them, “no running away this time Byakuya,” his eyes crinkling in amusement as he took in Byakuya’s torn kimono, “and you too Tousen,” who was skulking behind the three of them and was trying to look disinterested.

“Settle down everyone, settle,” Yamamoto boomed as the few Shinigami that had tried to exit through the windows only to be blown back by the shocking shields in place, picked themselves up from the floor. “I have an important announcement to make. Due to several complaints,” a pause as if his next words were going to hurt him, “no women will be participating in the auction this year.”

Silence. Not the good kind, either. All it took was one person.

“Oh hell no!” Renji muttered mutinously. Roars sounded. An increasing clamour of outrage as the men, and a few of the women too, screamed their displeasure.

“No fucking way!” Kenpachi began, his voice rising higher than everyone's as he fingered his sword, “I’ve saved up all my money just for this!” His eyes lingering overlong on Rukia, “I’m not going away empty handed,” he grumbled to Ikkaku – who also looked crestfallen at the news.

“I’ll just have to take a man instead,” he shouted.

At his words, a fresh and panicked escape attempt took place as ten or so men, including Kira rushed for the doorway. Omaede lazily swung back his arm and brushed them all aside. Kira found himself sprawled on the floor, his hair hopelessly mussed and his cheeks burning with failure.

“I think we’ve established that escape is impossible. If you will all kindly gather around for the drawing of this year’s lucky candidates. Four names will be drawn this time around.”

Kira very much felt the condemned man as he stood and awaited his name to be called. Without fail, it came, and he knew it would because he knew that his Captain had fixed for it to be so. Damn him to hell!

He kept his head lowered as he moved to the gallows and took his place alongside the other unfortunates. 

The room was tilting at odd angles and with each swerve of the floor he was uncomfortably reminded of his liquid filled innards. He was going to be sick. Any minute now. But the minute wouldn’t come. Why was that? Be sick already, he thought desperately as the unpleasant sensation continued without interruption; the only interruption necessary was a quick bout of vomiting. So, why the delay?

A winking Shunsui was not helping. Nor was the loud debate being conducted by Kenpachi and his fifth seat.

“Who’s prettiest?” He demanded.

“I am, of course,” Yumichika replied with a wink.

“Other than you then,” Kenpachi said tersely with a tap of his foot. He neither had the time or patience to argue the point and his own blurred vision wasn’t going to help him in his selection.

Yumichika appeared to consider this as he daintily held up a hand to his mouth as if in deepest contemplation before he strolled up to the raised platform.

“They’re all pretty,” he began, “but other factors need to be taken into consideration.” 

He proceeded to move to the furthest end so that he stood by Aizen. The Fifth Division Captain nodded in acknowledgement, as genial as ever and looking completely unconcerned as he smiled at everyone.

“Aizen-Captain Aizen,” he amended, “here is a good candidate” a sudden drooping of Hinamori’s shoulders, “but sadly he is undone in the pretty stakes by his obvious masculinity,” a wave of his hand to indicate his broad shoulders and wide jaw. Hinamori visibly puffed up once more, her hands clasping her purse tightly. Kira couldn’t help but notice that Hitsugaya looked close to hitting someone or something. Could it be him? For earlier?

This was going to be a long night, Kira couldn’t help thinking. Yumichika was obviously enjoying himself and it was going to take a lot to cut through his flow once he got started, not that anyone would be stupid enough to incur his wrath, especially given Kenpachi’s backing.

Many appeared to understand this as seats were taken and new drinks were ordered from the newly erected bar, courtesy of Shuuhei who was busy mixing cocktails. A gaggle of women were already seated closest to him and mostly ignoring the proceedings in favour of vying for his attention.

Kira was unpleasantly reminded of a slave block. The atmosphere was right on target and all those eyes, judging and measuring his worth or lack of, only fuelled the association. He was being melodramatic, he kept reminding himself of this, but the pep talk wasn’t helping.

Gin waved from the crowd. Kira was tempted to wave back in his panic.

“Long luscious locks, lithe body and kind eyes but lacking in constitution, which is important for my Captain.” 

“Thank you,” Ukitake said graciously with a small bow.

Now it was his turn. “Girly hair and eyes, young and slim,” a pause, here it comes he thought, “a little skittish though and-” I’m being compared to a woman once again! Never going to live it down. I hate you Yumichika! Don’t think I’m going to let this drop. The night is still young. Plenty of time to take you down with me!

“If you’d hurry it up please,” Yamamoto said from the side lines as he pointedly looked at his wristwatch – the modern timepiece jarring with everything he represented.

“Of course,” Yumichika continued smoothly as he moved to Byakuya who was swaying where he stood and did not appear to understand his predicament. Lucky bastard!

“My Captain don’t look too good,” Renji said worriedly. Kira could appreciate his reasoning. The Kuchiki noble did not look his best. His expensive kimono was torn revealing both shoulders, and what looked suspiciously like claw marks stood out against his pale skin. His Kenseiken was askew atop his head and his eyes were unfocused.

“He’s fine,” Yumichika said offhandedly, “the-”

His next words were drowned out as Yoruichi disengaged from the crowd with a rough shove that sent Iba flying.

“He’s off limits. There is. I’m. Only. He’s coming home with me. Tonight,” she finished.

Iba dusted himself off, as he stood, only to be sent flying once more as Soi Fong pushed past him.

“No. He’s mine!” She declared with empty feeling.

“You’re only bidding so that I can’t have him!” And you can have me! Words that were not spoken but understood by everyone.

“We can share him,” Soi Fong desperately whined. She would do anything to share a night with Yoruichi even it meant a threesome with a guy.

A half formed leer formed at these words, quickly extinguished as Byakuya tried to circumnavigate the sake in his system; his lack of stillness as he wobbled back and forth doing him no favours as eyes darted back and forth from him to the two squabbling women.

Kenpachi held up a hand, his reiatsu spiking dangerously to draw attention to him.

“I’ll end this!” He promised as he stalked forward with a blank cheque in his hand that he roughly deposited into Yamamoto’s hand – unintentionally knocking him backwards into a priceless vase. The resultant crash was quickly ignored, as Aizen moved to assist the General onto his feet. Yamamoto nodded in thanks before asking for directions to the toilet.

Kira’s knees began clacking violently as fresh sweat rose to his skin in protest. Not me, not me or please no. Please. Please. Please. Was Hitsugaya smirking? Or was his paranoia on high alert already?

Kenpachi approached and Kira closed his eyes, in response, as his doom moved closer. What he needed right now, was more sake and his sword to fend the monster off. 

Chapter IV

From: [identity profile] yawns-widely.livejournal.com


I'm flattered. Thank you!

You reassured me about Renji's voice, given how it lacked grace and your input was much appreciated.

Happy coincidence with the name, I guess.

From: [identity profile] hu3long2.livejournal.com


Ah yes, recall that now. Rest assured that I wasn't trying to be nice. :-)

Actually, the user name is pretty zippish... hadn't realized that- I've only lived in places where the zips are all numerical.
.

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