If Ichi Had A Vag

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Various

Rating: T

Genre: Humor

Summary: The public responds to the Seireitei-wide inquiry form initiated by the Woman's Society: What if Ichi Had A Vag?

"Is it on?" There was a swishing of fabric as Nemu fumbled around with the tiny mic clipped to her collar and the lens on the camera zoomed in to focus on the scarce amount of cleavage at the crossover of her robes.

Maki-Maki got whacked over the head for his endeavor to get a closer look-see by none other than Nanao. Then Yachiru scared him shitless by jumping in front of the lens and waving her microphone all over the goddamn place.

"And now we present this year's inquiry presentation: IF ICHI HAD A VAG!"

Next to her, Nanao brought her hand up to blithely adjust her glasses, her cheeks tinted a pink hue.

"Kusajishi-fuckutaicho, I believe the correct term is "vagina"."

"Oh well!" said the hyper-active girl. Maki-Maki began to splutter noisily next to them.

"C-could you have a bit of respect!" he howled. "Old Man Yama won't sanction this if we just keep throwing the word around like that so recklessly."

"VAGINA, VAGINA, VAGINA!" Yachiru began singing, running in circles around the degrudging squad 11 peon. A vein throbbed at Maki-Maki's temple.

About at that exact moment, Rukia came strolling by.

"Rukia! Rukia!" Yachiru squealed, dashing up to the petite Reaper and practically jumping all over her like one of those froo-froo dogs that keeps humping your leg. "Will you participate in the new survey? Pleaaase?"

Rukia chuckled. "I'm sorry, Kusajishi-fukutaicho, but I have to decline-" she began.

"Even if we give you a discount coupon for Chappy items?" Yachiru pressed, wide eyes dancing with cunning. Rukia did a complete double take at that.

"Alright, I'll do it," she said.

"AND SO IT BEGINS, IF ICHIGO HAD A VAG!" Yachiru declared, tossing her microphone up into the air, where it sailed upward a few feet, bounced off the shingles of the nearest roof, effectively emitting feedback from the speakers so loud it deafened all present.

"Wait, what?" Rukia chocked out.

30 Minutes Later (after thoroughly convincing Rukia her name wouldn't go public after the inquiry, even though it would, cuz Yachiru's just diabolical in that sense).

"He'd be dead-weight," Rukia said, folding her arms across her ample bosom. "This accounts for clearance on ALL Chappy items, right?"

"HE HAS A WHAT?!" Renji bellowed, caterpaulting off the barstool he was seated at and hitting a boom-mike that had been situated close to him.

Byakuya's eyes slid closed as he lifted his hand up elegantly to graze his chin.

"I suppose now that Kurosaki has, so to speak, "come out of the closet", I feel somewhat blameworthy for how our encounters prior resolved themselves," he stated, his visage convincingly morose. "I would have been less keen to draw my blade against her had I known-" he cleared his throat then, the following words coming out forced "-that she was, indeed, a woman."

Nemu extended her mic to him. "So, what you're implying is that you would have taken it easier on Ichigo if he were a female?"

Byakuya's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You mean he's not?" Everybody present went stock still. A waterfall of sweat was pouring from Maki-Maki's face as he tensed to bolt. The camera shook violently.

The poised noble flicked the tail end of his scarf over his shoulder from where it had slipped during the interview and twisted around. "This shall not be circulated to the public." He gave them one final pointed glance over his shoulder. "Or else." And then he was gone in a flash, the stony air he gave off leaving with him.

Isshin burst out laughing. "My own son, have a woman's sex anatomy?!"

"Puh-lease!" Kisuke joined in, snapping his fan out to stir up a bit of air in the humid shop. "Ichigo may act like a sissy every now and then, but it would be outrageous to think of him in that sense." He leaned back on the stool he was situated on, a wide grin splitting his face. "Then of course, I could always make this possible. After all, I AM the former leader of the Research Department."

Maki-Maki gulped at the sight of the shopkeepers evilly pensive expression.

Ulquiorra placed his hand over the camera lens and shoved Maki-Maki away. "No comment," he said monotonously.

Grimmjow laughed racously, holding his sides as he rolled this way and that in the sand, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin after his rigorous training session. "I'D TOTALLY TAP THAT!" he howled loudly, straining for breath. Maki-Maki and Nanao didn't know whether to take him seriously on that or not.

The camera tilted as Maki-Maki began to fall asleep during Orihime's hour-long rant about how weird and yet amazing Ichigo having a vagina would be.

"It's just as Kuchiki-san stated," Uryu said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "he'd be dead weight...not to say that he already isn't. He hardly does anything around here."

Chad stood there, silent. He didn't seem obliged to answer that. All he could think of were the horrific images of Ichigo with a vag. After a second, he slapped his hand over his mouth and excused himself so he could go be sick somewhere.

Yachiru flash-stepped onto the school grounds where an orange-haired teenager was about to head home to the chaos of his psychotic father.

"Ichi!" He halted when he heard his name, turning to see the camera crew, consisting of Maki-Maki and some other nameless guy, and Nanao followed by Nemu stampeding in his direction.

"Wh-whoa, what the hell are you guys doing here?!" he exclaimed, taking a step back.

"WEEE'RE DOING AN INQUIRY!" Yachiru chirped, flinging her microphone up into Ichigo's face so hard it fractured his nose and sent him plunging hard into the ground, blood pouring in rivulets down his face and chin.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Ichigo cried, hands hovering delicately over his wound, as though unsure whether to tend to the assaulted area or not.

"Yaaaay! Get up, Ichi! Get up, get up, get up!" Yachiru chanted, grabbed the bright-haired male by the pant-leg and beginning to pull him along behind her in some sort of demented game.

Ichigo shrieked, thrashing as she hauled him over sharp rocks and asphalt until his belt snapped from all the grinding and the bubble-gum haired lieutenant ran ahead with just his britches in hand.

"GAAAAAH!" Ichigo screamed. "MY PANTS!" He got up to make after her, but his boxers had wound around his thighs and he stumbled, face-planting.

Everyone in the vicinity, not including Yachiru, who was off in the distance waving her spoils of war in the air, gasped. They all looked on as Ichigo stood, haggard, hair askew—more so than before—dirt smeared on his face and palms skinned from endeavoring to break his fall.

Maki-Maki was the one to break the silence. "It's...It's..." He pointed to Ichigo, more specifically, below his waist, where there hung a giant...

stiff...

throbbing...

erect...

shocking...

CENSOR BAR.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" everyone screamed in unison, including Ichigo, who was as apalled by the black bar being there as anybody else.

Thus, Ichigo's real gender remains a mystery.

A/N: LOLOLOL. Didn't think I would make it that easy, now did you, readers? This idea came from Japanese censory, because in their hentai or erotic manga, the genitalia are often covered with censor bars or are just blurred out. I decided to do a fic on it for a couple of laughs.