[fic] Contradictions

[kiyala.livejournal.com]

Title: Contradictions
Author: kiyala
Word Count: 4035
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo / Ishida Uryuu
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: boylove, boys kissing, swearing, bad boyfriend!Ichigo
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach
Notes: written for theme #11 of 30_smiles - Bitter honey; black sugar; sweet chilli

This took far longer than necessary. But that's probably because it made me feel really bad to write this D: But I'm glad it's over... it even went for longer than I'd expected too :3

perfect icon for this too

x-posted to ishi_ichi, 30_smiles and bleach_yaoi

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Kurosaki had this thing about keeping things separate. His real life was one thing, everything that was related to his being a Shinigami was another. He went through each day categorising things, dealing with them individually, keeping them separate. He had told me, on several occasions, that he did not like having these two clash.

I, being a Quincy, fell into the second category. Apart from Inoue-san, the rest of his friends fell into the first. It worked well that way for him. Inoue-san was Inoue-san and Kurosaki, as thick headed as he was, did not notice the way she looked at him, and did not have the sense to realise that the sad look in her eyes was his fault. I noticed, but I didn’t say anything. What could I say? For unlike Inoue-san, I meant something to Kurosaki. I was something he could possess, somebody to call his own, and someone with which he could do as he pleased. Because of course, Kurosaki being Kurosaki, he had decided that because I never show my emotions, I mustn’t have any.

It was difficult to love and hate someone at the same time. Perhaps the hate had become so intense that I had begun to love him, or perhaps I loved him so much that I hated him for it. Either way, I let him do with me as he pleased, allowing him to believe that he had utter control over me while I took what I needed. He believed that when I held him close, it was a sign of submitting to his will. Perhaps it was, but it was also a way of having the closeness I needed from him. The way I whimpered and cried his name fulfilled his desire as well as mine, and the more I realised that what we wanted was similar – despite the huge difference between our reasons – the less I resisted any of it.

I kept my body close to his, my lips never too far from his skin when we were together. I gave him all the love I had, all disguised as nothing more than lust that matched his, and as he left each night, I would watch his retreating back and hate him for not looking back before closing the door behind him.



I sat by myself in the classroom during lunch while he spent it with his friends – that was how things worked. I had a salad roll in one hand, a book in the other and I ate in blissful silence, glad that there was no one to disturb me. As though to mock my thoughts, a shadow fell across my book to tell me there was something standing behind me and my grip on the book tightened in frustration before I spoke without turning around. “Kurosaki—”

“It’s not Ichigo,” came the familiar voice of Sado and I looked over my shoulder to make sure it was him. He took a seat at the empty table beside me and looked at me carefully, and I could tell that he was thinking hard about something before he opened his mouth to speak, “Are you still Ichigo’s…”

He paused as he tried to find the right way to describe it. Boyfriend implied there was some kind of mutual emotion between us… a more correct word would be… fuckbuddy, play-thing…

“Yes, I am,” I cut him off, sparing him from having to find the word, and sparing myself from having to think about it longer than necessary. I avoided his gaze and took another bite of my lunch before I began to read again.

“Why?” he asked and I looked at him over the top of my book. He frowned and repeated it, “Why? Why do you let Ichigo treat you like that? You know how caring he is of his friends, so how can you accept the fact that he treats you so differently…?”

“Because,” I replied, not missing a beat and repeating the same answer I gave myself when I questioned myself about the same thing, “…It’s better than nothing.”

Sado nodded in silence and after a moment’s hesitation, looked at me with his uncovered eye, “He likes you a lot, you know.”

“No he doesn’t,” I muttered, drawing my shoulders a little closer as I refused to think of what I had been told. “He doesn’t like me at all. He… he doesn’t.”

“He treats you the way he does because he’s afraid of the fact that you mean more to him than the rest of us do. He’s used to all of his friends meaning the world to him, so he protects them with his life and puts his soul on the line for them… he doesn’t know what more to do for you.”

“Stop it,” I said in a near growl, looking away with a frown, “You’re making all of that up. How would you know any of that?”

“I know Ichigo better than most people do,” he murmured as he stood up. “And I know how he thinks. He knows how much pride you have pushed aside to be this close to him – even if it’s only physical. He knows what he means to you… he just doesn’t know how to say that you mean as much to him, and he doesn’t know how much that hurts you.”

“That goes without saying,” I whispered mostly to myself and I turned my gaze towards the book in my hand, “Are you leaving?”

There was a low grunt that meant yes, but he stopped at the door and turned around for a moment, “But maybe you should let him know how much it hurts, Ishida. It might help him put things into perspective.”

He left before I had a chance to reply and I looked at the empty doorway of the classroom for a moment before continuing to read and eat.



I was lying on the sofa reading my book, with my homework completed and kept in my bag for school tomorrow. I had reached a particularly interesting part of the story when I heard the door knob slowly turn, telling me that Kurosaki was here. I kept the door unlocked for him so he pushed it open and walked inside. I didn’t lift my eyes from the page I was reading. He didn’t move from the door, which he had closed behind him, so I continued reading until the end of the chapter and then lowered the book so I could look at him.

“You were talking to Chad today,” he said in a tone that sounded neither pleased or displeased, but I knew what he thought of it. Giving him a blank look, I didn’t sit up but I closed my book and placed it on the table beside the sofa before replying.

“So I was.”

He took a few steps closer and frowned at me, “I thought I told you how I don’t like it when—”

“Sado is my friend as well as yours,” I muttered, sitting up and tucking my legs close to give him place to sit if he wanted, “I am allowed to talk to my own friends aren’t I, Kurosaki?”

He didn’t sit, “Chad is my friend… it’s weird as it is for him to be able to see ghosts and stuff, but he’s still part of my real life… but you—”

“So I’m not real, Kurosaki?”

“You’re not a part of the life I had before I became a Shinigami.”

I hid the pain well and gave him a small frown instead, “It’s your life, regardless of whether it happened before or after you became a Shinigami. Why is it that all of your friends are on one side, and I’m on the other? If you don’t want me to be a part of your life, Kurosaki, you can just say so—”

“I never said that,” he snapped, folding his arms, “Besides, I’m okay with you talking to Inoue. I wasn’t really ever friends with her until after I became a Shinigami too.”

I would have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so much. I knew he was dense, but this was still coming as a surprise to me. I could hardly believe that he had unwittingly managed to categorise the two people that loved him the most in a way that kept them as far from him as he possibly could.

“I’m not a pet, Shinigami,” I muttered, surprised at how bitter my words sounded, but having no inclination to take them back, “So stop treating me like one. I’ll speak to whoever I want.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he replied, coming closer to me and placing a knee beside me on the sofa and leaning down so that he could give my neck a gentle bite, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder and push me against the back of the sofa.

Unable to stop myself from groaning or tilting my head so he could have better access, I only barely managed to keep my eyes from fluttering shut and turned away as he tried to run his teeth against my jaw-line. He growled in annoyance upon missing his target and lifted his head, settling in my lap and holding the sides of my face before grazing my chin with his teeth.

“Kurosaki…” I murmured, sounding more passive than I would have liked, “Stop it.”

His hands slid down my sides and he resumed his previous activity of biting down my neck, “No.”

I waited another moment to see if he would stop. When he didn’t, I slid my fingers around his wrists and forced his hands off me. Gasping more in shock than pain, he looked up into my eyes and I frowned at him, not letting any emotion into my expression other than anger.

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

“What’s your problem?”

“You,” I muttered, “This. Everything. I… I’ve dealt with it for this long. My pride won’t… can’t take it any more, Kurosaki.”

“You…” his eyes widened, “…You’re breaking up—?”

“That’s hardly the word for it,” I snapped, “There’s nothing between us to break in the first place, Kurosaki. Except perhaps for the leash you seem to have me attached to.”

Holding me by the shoulders, he frowned, “Why?”

“Why?” I repeated, aware of the fact that there was an increasing amount of anger evident in my voice. I felt him shift off my lap and he moved to sit beside me. I let out a hollow laugh and felt my eyes getting wet. Blinking several times to keep my emotions at bay, I looked into his eyes, “Are you really that stupid, Kurosaki? …I should have known that Sado was wrong. I can’t believe I let myself even hope it was true… I can’t believe that I’ve allowed you to make an utter fool of me.”

“What did Chad say?” he asked, looking almost worried.

I stood and shook my head, crossing the room and opening the door. He was still watching me, and by now his expression had changed from almost-worried to flat out scared.

“Leave.”

“What…?”

“Leave, damn it,” I repeated, raising my voice. The death-grip I had on the doorknob was the only thing stopping me from trembling and thankfully, he did not notice this.

Getting to his feet, he walked towards me and reached out to touch the hand that wasn’t on the door, “Please, just listen to me… Uryuu—”

I slapped his hand away, using much more force than necessary. He grunted in pain and by now, I was shaking to the point that no matter how tightly I was holding onto the doorknob, there was no way I could hide it, “Don’t you dare call me that, Kurosaki—”

“Uryuu—”

I hit him again, this time on the face. He took a step back to regain his balance and gave me a look I couldn’t quite see properly through my misty eyes as the tears I’d been holding back finally pushed their way past my eyes.

“You’re crying,” he whispered, holding onto the sides of my face.

“I don’t need you to point that out to me,” I snapped, taking my glasses off but not wiping my eyes. He looked as though he was about to say something – judging by the look on his face, most probably my name – but then shut his mouth. I looked away.

“…No one calls me Uryuu other than my father, Kurosaki, and at the moment I have more affection for that man than I do for you, so… just get out of my fucking sight before I do something I regret.”

His arms fell to his sides and he regarded me in silence for a moment before dropping his gaze to the floor, “…I’m sorry.”

“Leave,” I replied, opening the door wider and not looking at him.

He did, but not without glancing at me once again as though to check to see if I was okay. Of course I wasn’t; I waited for him to be completely out of the building before closing the door and leaning against it, covering my face with a hand.



The silence that followed… wasn’t welcome. But it wasn’t unwelcome either. Perhaps I had become too accustomed to living according to someone else’s whim. Most of my alone-time was spent thinking of Kurosaki, as always. The only thing this meant was that because I had more alone-time, I thought of him a lot more than I did before.

There was no escaping him, so I didn’t even bother to try. And sometimes, instead of thinking of Kurosaki, I would think of what Sado had told me that day, and then I would think of the look in Kurosaki’s eyes before he left.

I frowned as I thought of Sado’s words…

But maybe you should let him know how much it hurts, Ishida. It might help him put things into perspective.

He didn’t talk to me at school. He didn’t come near me, and it felt somewhat empty without him being around me, but it was refreshing at the same time. That’s what… this – whatever it was between us – had become; a contradiction. Love-Hate. Bitter-sweet. It made as little sense as sweet chilli, it was something that burned, but still felt so good. Something I just couldn’t get enough of. If I closed my eyes and thought about it, I could even imagine that taste on his lips, making my tastebuds tingle, effortlessly getting me addicted—

I shook myself and scowled, realising I was in class. I wasn’t supposed to be fantasizing about Kurosaki – particularly not in the middle of class. I could somehow feel his eyes on me, but my wounded ego made sure that I did pay him any attention and simply returned to my work.

Sado was waiting to speak to me at lunch time. I ignored him until he came over and sat down at the empty desk beside me.

“Ichigo… he gets jealous when we talk, doesn’t he?”

The question was definitely not what I was expecting and I hesitated for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes before shifting my gaze away, “He does. Kurosaki doesn’t like it when I talk to his friends.”

“No. It’s the other way around. Ichigo doesn’t like it when his friends talk to you.”

I gave my classmate an exasperated look, “What difference does it make—?”

He shifted the subject before I could even finish my question. “You’re not speaking to each other.”

“You mean we’re not fucking,” I spat bitterly, “We never spoke.”

He gave me a moment of silence that I sorely needed and I sighed, shoulders slumping as I put my elbows on my desk and held my head in my hands. “Does he think I’m as oblivious as he is when it comes to others’ emotions? I saw that look in his eyes before he left… I know he’s watching me in class…”

He stood and turned to the door, “…He’s feeling rather bad about himself at the moment.”

“I don’t care,” I muttered, more to myself than to Sado as he left. It wasn’t true, and I knew it, but I thought that perhaps I could fool myself into believing it if I said it aloud. It didn’t work.




Two days had passed, and it was the last day of school before the weekend. We had maths in the last period, which I was thankful for because by that time, I needed nothing more than to finish exercise after exercise of maths problems mechanically. It helped to get my mind off… things. Off Kurosaki. And I knew that it was definitely a good thing to avoid thinking of him.

I was just about finished with the second exercise when the teacher’s voice brought me out of my daze.

“Kurosaki, I highly doubt that the answers to your maths problems are written on Ishida’s back, so I’d very much appreciate it if you stopped staring and started working. You haven’t touched your pen all lesson.”

There was mild laughter from the others in the class and I hunched more over my work, scowling at the page as I felt an unpleasant sensation in my stomach; as though it were twisting itself into several knots. It wasn’t a very long time later that I asked to go to the toilets and spent a good five minutes hunched over one of the metal sinks, waiting for the sick feeling to fade. I ran my hands under the tap and splashed some water onto my face, shaking my head before putting my glasses back on and quickly smoothing a hand over my hair to keep it all in place.

I returned to class and sat down without looking at Kurosaki once, but I knew that he was watching me – probably doing his best to be subtle about it. I almost growled in irritation. Kurosaki and subtlety did not go well with one another. There was a long period of silence where I returned to my work, getting more than the usual number of questions wrong and accidentally doing the same set of questions twice, before it was broken once again by the teacher.

“Kurosaki…” no more even needed to be said. Most of the heads turned towards him with small grins on their faces. Some turned to me. My grip on my pen tightened to the point where I was about to turn and bark at him to leave me alone but was luckily saved from doing so by the bell.

Students quickly packed and left the classroom, all excitedly talking about their plans for the weekend, and it was disorienting enough for me to forget the fact that there was an orange-haired idiot sitting at his desk and watching my every move. I was usually the last to leave, but when I was at the door, I noticed Kurosaki was still sitting at his desk. His things were packed and he was staring at his hands as they rested on the table in front of him, and after a moment he looked up to meet my gaze.

Neither of us said anything or even moved as we stared at each other for a long time. He blinked first, looking away for a moment before looking back. After another few seconds, I turned and left without a word, all too aware of the fact that he was watching my back as I walked away.

Things did not change over the weekend. I felt lonlier, but I also thought more about Kurosaki, and I felt angrier. They somehow managed to cancel each other out and by Monday morning, I was a little more sleep-deprived than usual, but nothing else was different.

He seemed to have learned to be a little more subtle, because although I could still feel his eyes on me during class, no one else seemed to have noticed, for which at least, I was thankful for.

At the end of the day, he was still sitting at his desk after everyone had left again. He looked so pathetic that part of me wanted to talk to him, while the other part of me wanted to throw something at him. With an irritated sigh, I left the room before he even looked up at me.

I had almost finished walking the entire length of the hall before I heard feet hitting the floor behind me. Knowing who it was, I continued walking as though I’d heard nothing at all, until I felt hands grabbing my shoulders and holding me against the wall.

“Ishida…” I could hear the tremble in his voice, and I didn’t push him away. He held me at arm’s length and looked into my eyes with what I could identify only as despair. “…Ishida, please…”

“What?” I asked, sounding more impatient than I had intended to. His hold on me faltered for a moment and he looked at the floor before looking back up at me.

“Can we stop this, please?” he sounded desperate and after a moment, couldn’t maintain eye contact with me, “…I didn’t know what it’d be like if you weren’t there… I don’t like it. It feels so empty… it makes me feel so shit. It’s like… it’s like I need you to be happy, or something, and I didn’t realise how much I needed you until you weren’t there—”

“Kurosaki…” I cut him off, and it was my turn to look away.

“…I’ve treated you like utter crap, just because I didn’t know how to deal with… how I feel.”

“How you feel?”

“I like you,” he said bluntly, “A lot. More than anyone else. I-I think I might love you, I… don’t know.”

So Sado was right. I nodded slowly and he gave me a hopeful look, “…What do you feel, Ishida?”

“About you?”

He nodded carefully.

My eyes narrowed a little in thought before I looked at him and replied in utter honesty, “I hate you.”

His face fell, and I raised a hand to indicate that I wasn’t finished, and continued with just as much honesty, “…and I love you.”

He gave me a happy look that gradually faded into confusion.

“If I treated you better, would you—”

I shifted my gaze to the window over his shoulder, but could not stop the small and somewhat reluctant smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Loving you makes it difficult to hate you as it is… Ichigo.”

He tried not to be obvious about it, but I could see his face brighten up at my words. He gave me a timid smile that looked out of place on his face. “Would you give me a chance to… change things? I want to make it so that it’s damn near impossible for you to hate me… I want to love you, I want you to love me… Would you… would you give me the chance to make you happy, to make up for everything I’ve done?” he asked and then hesitated before adding, “……Uryuu…?”

Instead of replying, I held the sides of his face and pulled him in for a kiss to answer his question. He tasted nothing like sweet chilli, but the thought of it invaded my mind. Of contradictions, of him… Ichigo, and of me… of us. Both. Together. All the thoughts I had refused to let myself dwell on when I was nothing more than a plaything. But this… felt different, and I knew it was different, and I could feel it in the way we held each other, and I could taste it in the kiss that neither of us wanted to break.

I finally pulled away, gasping for breath. He closed the gap between our lips for a short kiss and murmured against them; “I love you, Uryuu.”

Had it been any other situation, I would have rolled my eyes at him. Instead, I brought my hands up to hold his broad shoulders and rested my forehead against his. “Yeah. I love you too, you idiot.”