He thought about moping. He considered the idea of moping. He actually even tried it, pulling his lips down into a frown and staring disconsolately out into the distance. He supposed in hindsight that might have been what started the rumors. Especially since Abarai-kun had walked past him at that exact instant, automatically assuming the worst.
“Poor Izuru,” they said. “He just wasn’t getting over that bastard Ichimaru’s betrayal.”
Izuru knew better than that. He was glad the creep was gone. But once the rumors had started, he couldn’t get them to stop, and then, people saw what they wanted to see and not what was really there. So they labeled him as depressed and melancholy and all sorts of morose terms that he didn’t really want associated with him but had to accept anyway.
At first, he thought that maybe he ought to mourn. Ichimaru was his captain, after all, and feelings of betrayal didlinger. However, considering how he had been deceived, Izuru was more angry than upset. His captain had made him look like a fool several times over. And even now, Gin was still doing it because everyone thought that poor Izuru was moping.
He supposed, considering Hinamori-chan’s state of pure insanity, that they expected the same from him. Then again, no one thought Hisagi-san had slipped into an endless depression of misery and woe, and Izuru wasn’t nearly as friendly with his former captain as Hisagi-senpai had been.
Well admittedly, there was a part of him that had worshiped the very ground that Ichimaru walked on. The man was amazing, and once upon a time, he had believed in Izuru, believed that the skinny blond with the all-too-innocent eyes might one day become a strong Shinigami. Though even now, Izuru was beginning to doubt that just a little bit. Perhaps Ichimaru was just looking for someone corruptible.
He wondered if it was too cruel of him to vow to become strong enough to kick Ichimaru’s ass the next time they met. To show Ichimaru that he actually wasstrong enough and not just some toy that could be played with and then tossed away.
So no, Izuru was absolutely not moping about the betrayal. He was not locked in his room, wrapped around a pillow and weeping his eyes out. He was not roaming around with a lost look on his face or begging his best friend to show Ichimaru the error of his ways because surely “he’s just confused.”
No, Izuru was glad that the bastard was gone because now he could finally shine. Now, he could come out from his captain’s shadow and prove that he’s more than just a pretty blond with a sword. Now, he could show everyone that their initial thoughts of him were wrong ,and hewas that strong and not even Ichimaru’s betrayal could send him into the deepest pits of depression.
And Izuru planned on showing them soon, too. Right away. Or at least, in a couple of weeks.
He just wanted to milk the unwanted sympathy a little while longer. No one made chocolate-chip brownies or yummy deserts like Kotetsu-fukutaichou, and Matsumoto-san was more willing to part with the good alcohol now that they had a “bond of loneliness.” And Unohana-taichou, who always had the best tea, was now sending him supposedly anonymous care packages. He was rapidly becoming addicted to having lazy days where he didn’t have to do any paperwork thanks to Ise-san. Honestly, he had been getting rather tired of doing it all himself for the last decade or so.
And even his male friends and the men of Seireitei were getting into the act. He had a wonderful new brush set and as many books as he could possibly read thanks to Abarai-kun and Iba-kun, not to mention that they practically waited on him hand and foot. His wardrobe was growing exponentially from all the beautiful kimono Ayasegawa-san insisted on bringing him. And he had never eaten so well with all the food Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou sent to him.
No, Izuru was absolutely not torn by Ichimaru’s absence. The third division was a bit brighter now, the windows thrown wide open. He found he could stand a bit straighter and that Wabisuke wasn’t as heavy as he used to be. Izuru thought that maybe he could try smiling again.
But not for a little while yet.
He still wanted those brownies.