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Arigatou.

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GENERAL DISCLAIMER : The author holds no license of, nor makes claims to any of the characters, concepts, or stories all fiction works in this journal originated from in any way. The characters are used without permission of the original creators for the sake of entertainment only. No profit is gained from the writing found hereafter, nor any personal credit taken for the character designs, personalities, or concepts stemming from the original stories used. Characters used under this label are property of their respective creators and no copyright infringement is intended.

All situations depicted in the following fanfiction, unless otherwise stated, have no bearing on the creators' original works, and are solely the creation of the author based on personal interpretation of the mentioned works or are parodies exempted from copyright laws. It is the responsibility of the reader to observe all warnings before proceeding to the fiction works in this journal, as they may contain any number of situations, themes, ideas, views, or lifestyles not suitable for those under the age of 18 or which may be contrary or offensive to the beliefs of some. In the event that the following is the author's original work, or contains an original character, the author holds the copyright and should be contacted before either is used or distributed in any way.

 

Series Title : N/A.
Story Title : Arigatou [1/1].
Chapter Title : N/A.
Rating : G - PG12.
Main Character(s) : Various.
Genre(s) : AU, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Gen, Smut.
Summary : Ten one-sentence fics for ten songs.
Warning(s) : F/F, M/F, M/M, Character death.
Word Count : +/- 886.
Author's Note(s) : N/A.

 

Uragirimono no Hisou na Sakebi. G

There are a million ways to die, but when Ichimaru Gin sees the tortured agony that's etched upon his former fukutaichou's bony face coupled with the curiously violent mix of anger, relief, and disbelief within those hollow, cerulean eyes; when he hears the almost inaudible cadence of sanguine drops meeting the ground beneath their feet, eerily in time with the harsh, anguished pants that escape Izuru's pale throat; when he feels the life force being dragged out of him so excruciatingly slowly as if it were forcing him to savor every mordacious moment of his unexpected defeat; when he feels Izuru's hands shake so forcefully from gripping the sword's - not Wabisuke's, not Shinsou's, but an ordinary, sealed zanpakutou's - hilt so tight the way Hinamori did once; when the coppery taste of blood pools at the underside of his tongue before filling and spilling over the sides of his ever-present smile, he knows there is no better way to die than this.

 

Daidai. G

When Azuma bites into the fruit's pulpy, orange flesh and his pristine lips close around Hihara's overeager ones scant seconds later; when his tongue roams unrestrained inside his companion's willing, responsive mouth, tasting and relishing every drop of acrid juice underscored with a flavor that's inherently, essentially Kazuki, he can't help but marvel at the trumpeter's uncanny ability of making something so bitter taste so sweet.

 

Merry Christmas. PG12

He has never been one for holidays, but Iruka's wickedly talented tongue swirling over the head of his throbbing, icing-coated cock makes Touda convinced he could easily get used to this Christmas thing.

 

Jitensha. G

Yuuri runs his hand over handlebars now rusted, along a frame whose bright blue paint has long since peeled off, atop a well-worn saddle which has faithfully borne his weight for so many years, and wonders - not for the first time nor the last - how his life would be now had he not attempted to rescue a bullied Murata Ken that one fateful day.

 

Kure. G

Renji glares balefully at the dusky horizon - teeth sinking into his fuller bottom lip, fingers reflexively tightening their hold on his denim-clad knees, terrifying vacuity rising from the depths of his stomach and enveloping his heart; hating and missing her, and it, and above all, loathing himself - while he thinks how wrong Takumi was to aver that he wasn't weak enough to need him for the rest of his life.

 

Ran Hana. G

Kenpachi studies the woman who is both gentle and intimidating, polite yet authoritative, warm but just as deadly; the compelling mixture of prettiness and prickliness, equal parts salve and poison, a blue-eyed, ebony-haired china doll composed of filigree masked steel that makes one inimitable Unohana Retsu, and muses that the violet-streaked, white Phalaenopsis lindenii in her hair - while not a complete misrepresentation - isn't entirely accurate.

 

Kansha. G

It begins like an infinitesimal spark that builds rapidly into something bright and scorching and alive, filling her heart to its bursting point before climbing the passageway of her throat that's suddenly so narrow, she can't even speak (and it's a good thing, too, cos words won't do her emotions justice at this point - it feels tenfold like their reunion on the bridge of Senzaikyuu, even though she yelled at him back then), before it reaches higher and higher and spills over her large violet eyes when she sees him - his vibrant orange hair (still as spiky as ever), his coffee brown eyes (full of stubborn pride and cocky defiance), that peach-skinned, angular face (still adorned with his ever-present scowl), his lanky but well-built frame (which constantly radiates his signature overprotective ferociousness) - all of him that's truly looking (not past her, nor through her, but right at her) in her eyes the way he used to; and in that instant, it feels like nothing's changed - that two arduously tormenting years hadn't really gone by at all.

 

Douhyou. G

He has no idea how she does this, although he's certain he hates her for it; but when Renji kisses him back fervently, hungrily, needily, Byakuya mentally - and grudgingly - admits that Shihouin Yoruichi-senpai (when she gently guided - or, more accurately, less than subtly shoved - him in a certain redheaded fukutaichou's direction with a typically teasing and bossy, "Never mind farsightedness, you really ought to learn to see what's right in front of you, Byakuya-bou!") was, for the millionth time, right.

 

Sayounara Sekai. G

Tatsuki aggressively crushes her mouth against Orihime's, tasting copper and sorrow and despair; plundering that hot, wet cavern and robbing her of her very last breath, fingernails digging desperately - possessively - into the girl's upper arms, squeezing that curvaceous but feeble body against her much leaner frame, and doesn't stop until the orange-haired beauty is well and truly dead, because Orihime's life is hers - hers alone - and she'd be damned if she let that horned bastard have her.

 

Houkiboshi. G

The widening of her large, innocent, earth-colored eyes, enhanced by the rapidly broadening grin across her pretty face, punctuated by the impulsive leap of joy that's shortly followed by a very zealous glomp and a "Thank you, Sado-kun!" when he presents her with the piece of paper certifying that comet they'd witnessed together the week before now shares her name, convinces Chado that Orihime is far and away the cutest thing he's ever seen.

~ The End. ~