Iba, for the record, had a secret love for furry things great and small. He simply wibbled every time he saw a cute creature and had to resist the urge to pet. Sometimes, they carried dangerous things like rabies. But still, the desire was there. Please, disregard the fact that his captain was a rather large, fuzzy creature for the moment and concentrate on the tale at hand.
Anyway, as a result, he absolutely adored cute animals, though he would never admit it aloud. Especially puppies and kittens, though the occasional hamster did sneak its way into his adoration.
However, none of that knowledge was important to the current story. The fact that Iba was venturing down to Karakura, seeking out his old buddy Renji had absolutely nothing to do with kittens or fuzzies or anything of the like. Nope, not one bit.
Truthfully, Komamura had decided that it was time his vice-captain took a mini-vacation and had given him a few days off. With all of his friends pretty much down in Karakura, Iba thought he might as well venture there himself. Renji was the easiest to locate since he was at Urahara’s shop, and so Iba set his course for there.
Except, he had forgotten that in their undercover work, they were required to go to school. Iba pitied the poor bastard. But that meant he would have to wait for Renji to get back. It didn’t seem so bad, especially since Urahara-san was polite enough to offer him some sake and cookies while he waited. And they said that manners were non-existent on Karakura.
It would have been a nice, relaxing time if it weren’t for the fact that he was being watched – scrutinized, rather – by Urahara’s strange guest and the candy shop owner himself. It was kind of disconcerting to be observed beneath that striped hat and behind a constantly wagging fan. And Yoruichi watched him as if he were something to be eaten, a sinister grin pulling at her lips.
Without knowing why, Iba felt afraid. Very, very afraid.
Renji sighed as he walked through the front door of the Urahara Shop, his head aching. He really hated school and didn’t understand how Ichigo could not only suffer through it but score so high as well.
“Tadaima,” he called out tiredly, knowing that Urahara probably had a stack of chores he wanted Reni to do. Yet, another something to add to his already craptacular day.
Closing his eyes unenthusiastically, Renji swept a hand over his hair as he heard the sound of heavy footsteps across the wooden floor. He expected it to be Jinta with another scathing remark about him being a freeloader. He was not prepared to be grabbed by the front of his shirt and shaken ruthlessly. Red eyes shot open as words were blasted in his face in a very familiar tone.
“How many have ya killed?” Iba was demanding of him, sounding very, very insane. “How many, in your lust, have ya slaughtered?”
Renji blinked, his head snapping back and forth on his shoulders. “What the fuck?” he spluttered, raising his hands to try and remove Iba’s grip. “Tetsuzaemon?”
His old friend was looking desperate now, glasses half-cocked on his face as he shook Renji even harder, practically ripping his shirt. “How many, Renji? How many?”
The sixth division vice-captain continued to be flabbergasted. His brain simply couldn’t wrap around this strange turn of events.
Iba seemed to break down in that moment, sobs wracking his frame as he sank downwards, still clutching onto Reni’s shoulders. “Not the kittens,” he murmured mournfully. “Anything but the kittens.”
At a loss for words, Renji was distracted by the sound of two people snickering like hell in the background. He lifted his eyes and found both Urahara-san and Shihouin-san laughing their asses off, practically rolling around on the floor. He lifted his brows, feeling his head beginning to ache.
“What did ya to do ‘im?” he asked, bewildered.
They chuckled all the harder, Urahara’s reddened face hidden by his fan. Iba continued to sob, now nothing more than a mass of pitiful Shinigami robes on the floor.
Yoruichi snickered, trying to control her breathing, but all that came out was laughing gasps. “He believed us,” she shrieked, wiping at her eyes.
Meanwhile, Renji grabbed his friend’s shoulders. “Get a hold of yourself, man!” he roared, beginning to grow a bit disturbed. There was just something wrong with the whole picture, especially of big and tough Iba acting like this.
“Gone, gone,” Iba sobbed. “I’ve killed them all.”
Renji remained confounded.
“So you see, Iba-kun,” Urahara stated in his most serious voice, trying to rein in his chortles. “This is a severe matter.”
The seventh division vice-captain was aghast. “B-but… how?”
Yoruichi nodded determinedly at her friend’s side. “It’s true. Every time you touch yourself… a kitten dies. It’s the work of angels, they say.”
“A proven, documented fact,” Urahara added in wisely, now hiding behind his fan. He didn’t think he could say anymore with a straight face.
Iba’s eyes widened, though it was impossible to see behind his sunglasses, and he wibbled. “No,” the man breathed, his mind automatically turning to his own foul misdeeds. “It can’t be…”
“Tadaima!” A voice announced from seemingly far away.
Tetsuzaemon’s head jerked up. “Renji,” he muttered under his breath. His friend was even hornier than he was.
Iba gasped again. Oh no!
Within seconds, the vice-captain was on his feet and taking off down the hallway. Left behind, Urahara and Yourichi dissolved into helpless titters.
“Too easy,” the Shihouin heir wheezed.
Urahara could only nod in agreement.