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Slow and Steady

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Summary: Slow and steady wins the race, or so Renji had learned during his induction into the Gotei Thirteen. He diligently abided by the age old academy principle, and things had always been steady … at least, until a certain orange rabbit came along.

Yes, in some countries this is called the 'Hare and the Tortoise', but I like the double 'b' in rabbit; so I'll call it that.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or the 'Hare and the Tortoise'.

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A peaceful day at the Academy…

"Hado #31, Shakkahō!"

A colossal bang; a rush of black fumes smothered the grassy training ground, bringing with it a flurry of smoke-induced coughs and tears. In the midst of chaos, a lone redhead landed wide-eyed on his posterior, too consternated to even erase the soot marks from his tanned, tattooed face.

"Abarai! You imbecile! What in the name of the Seireitei were you thinking?!" An enraged bellow from the oversized academy tutor jolted said imbecile into action. The former Rukongai street urchin surveyed the damage guiltily, scratching his head bemusedly and leaving grey streaks in his scarlet hair.

The instructor, an obese overseer with a thick mop of hair and even thicker moustache, shook his fist in fury as his three chins wobbled dangerously. "Never, never in all my years as a Kido master have I ever seen a student as haphazard and troublesome as you!"

Gesticulating wildly at the destruction around them, the teacher continued his tantrum, displaying impressive lung power and vocabulary. "Look what you have done! The evidence of your failure covers every available surface! The clean white walls, painted only last month - due to your previous mishap, I might add - tarnished! My beautiful silver hair, so immaculately combed, now a dirty grey like an old geezer's!"

"You are an old geezer…" Renji muttered, but thankfully for his grades and general well-being, it fell on deaf ears.

Finally gaining some measure of calm, the instructor lowered his voice to normal decibels, and patiently drew Renji's attention to a training stump standing forlornly on the far side of the compound. "And look at that wooden post over there. Can you tell me what that is, Abarai?"

Renji stared at the object in question blankly, a bit too tired to make sense of the situation. The post looked altogether unremarkable, save the fact that it was the most intact in the training ground. Anyway, the sensei wasn't yelling anymore, so he was bound to wrap up his pointless lecture soon, right?

"A training stump, sir?"

Wrong. It was the calm before the storm.

The instructor's face turned a ripe red, and he snarled, "That's your target, you fool; and the only thing untouched by your immeasurable stupidity!"

Renji ducked, trying to avoid a powerful blow to his head, but the instructor had years of experience dealing with brash imbecile youngsters, particularly ones with a knack for trouble. A leg came out of nowhere, a well-aimed kick at his ribs leaving Renji gasping for air as he sank to the floor with an injured whine. At least the sensei hadn't targeted his privates.

"Since you're too stupid to understand the normal way, let me tell you a story to knock some sense into your think skull." The instructor emphasized his point by delivering a sharp rap to the thick skull in question, rattling the tattooed student's head for good measure.

And so the instructor began, adopting a lilting sombrero and an easy pace characteristic of lullabies and children stories. "There was once a rabbit. He was smart, confident, popular, and had an inflated ego. He was the fastest animal in all of Seireitei, challenging mighty opponents and winning all races."

Sensei frowned; his irritation with the rabbit could not be plainer, as if the furball had done the mountain man a personal disservice. "Deciding that the rabbit needed to learn a lesson, a sly old tortoise dared the stuck-up rabbit to a race. When the race began, the rabbit immediately launched into high-speed shunpo, out of sight in the blink of an eye. The tortoise was left to bite the dust, trailing behind like some pansy-ass loser."

Puffing his chest importantly, the geezer continued sagely, "But the rabbit was charging ahead on full power, so the idiot soon ran out of reiatsu, and could no longer use shunpo. He was tired, and so the overconfident pig decided to steal a little booze and take a nap under a tree."

"Wasn't it a rabbit?" Hinamori whispered curiously, tugging on Kira's sleeve in confusion. The blond stared back, baffled that the sweet-tempered girl was actually listening to this drivel.

The instructor had the useful skill of ignoring questions he couldn't answer, an uncanny knack that was at least partially responsible for his dictatorial reputation at the academy. "While the rabbit snored away, the tortoise was gaining pace, and inch by inch, the slowpoke caught up. 'Twas a crafty one, that tortoise..."

A snicker at the back; a few students could no longer hide their giggles. "Crafty? What is it, Onmitsukido?"

"The rabbit got up and quickly started on the last leg of the race, but because he was exhausted, his pace was much slower than the tortoise. So the rabbit began to lag, and he took short breaks in the middle, confident and utterly unaware that the tortoise had overtaken him when he was napping."

"When they neared the finish line, the tortoise, who had been conserving her energy, summoned all her reiatsu into one last high-speed shunpo, and flashed all the way to victory, leaving the rabbit to eat dirt."

The sensei ended his little anecdote with sombre finality, surveying his audience for the desired reaction. Renji's classmates were singularly unimpressed, and not a little amused. Hinamori was chortling in the corner, and even the polite, stoic Kira could not supress a slight chuckle.

Vengefully rounding on his inattentive class, the massive man demanded aggressively from a random student, "So, what did you understand for today's lesson, fool?"

A moment of silence, then hushed whispers as the audience belatedly realised that there was a point to the bizarre narrative.

"Eerr… um, well…" The woebegone random student fated to answer looked left and right, searching for information, or more specifically, ferreting for clues from his fellow classmates. Or he might have just been trying to avoid the sensei's intimidating black aura.

Finding the others just as blank, he stammered out, "Erm… don't sleep during missions?"

He was rewarded with a sharp rap on the head. "That's obvious, dumbass! Though you won't know; you sleep in class as well, don't you?"

The student hastened to answer, stammering incoherent, alternating between yes and no while trying to decide whether honesty was the right response. A vicious jab to the shins told him that it was a rhetorical question.

Tiring of his spineless (and brainless) victim, the instructor flung the limp body away, not caring that the student crashed against a brick wall. "Who wants to try next?"

There was a scramble for answers... though most students were trying to look inconspicuous behind their classmates' backs.

"Turtles are smarter than rabbits!" chirped an enthusiastic (suicidal) girl from the front. She was spared a disdainful glance; but as she suffered no insults or bodily damage, Renji was inclined to believe she had been quite lucky.

With exaggerated slowness, the instructor enunciated clearly, "The lesson of the story is: Slow and steady wins the race. If you exhaust all your reiatsu at the beginning of your fight, you won't be able to sustain, and you'll lose the battle. A steady, consistent reiatsu is more deadly that a few short high-powered bursts of power."

Turning back to Renji, he snapped ferociously, "Now try again, Abarai. Show me you've learnt something." The 'or else' hung in the air menacingly.

Justifiably apprehensive, Renji got off his bottom, dusted his uniform, and got into the classic kido position. With a lot less confidence than the previous time, he closed his eyes, steadied his reiatsu (or tried to) and chanted, "Hado #31, Shakkahō!"

A bang, nowhere as impressive as the last; but unaccompanied by the satisfying discord of dismembered buildings. Renji blinked. No smoke, no decapitated pillars or training stumps, no students scrambling for cover (though to be fair, the first time had taught them to retreat to a safe distance in advance), nothing. The cherry-red blast was still embarrassingly weak, yes, but there were no special side-effects embellishing his abject failure.

"I got it! I got it!" Euphoric, Renji began doing a happy dance of victory, mindless of his still blackened face and the wisp of red flame merrily burning the bottom of his shihakusho.

"Not by a long way, Abarai" the instructor chastened, but added grudgingly (and not a little proudly), "but you're in the right direction."

Later, when the class was dismissed (and Kira had taken pity on the exhausted red-head and doused the kido fire on his clothes), Renji ambled awkwardly to the sensei, sopping wet and sheepish, and stammered out a bashful thanks. The teacher accepted it with surprising modesty, and perhaps a hint of a smile.

"You know sir", Renji mused thoughtfully, "I think I get it. The tortoise wanted to prove that anything is possible. The challenge was just a way to prove a point, wasn't it? That even if you're slower or stupider, you can win with a lot of hard work."

The instructor scoffed, smirking openly with far-away eyes, as if recalling an enjoyable incident. "Nonsense. The tortoise was always faster than the rabbit. She only did it to screw with the rabbit's head."

Renji stared at him, confounded, and wondered if perhaps the instructor really had no clue of what he was doing.

…

Renji might not be a quick learner, but once his set his mind on something, he put all his efforts into mastering it. And the strange little story from the portly irascible man found itself a special place in the red-head's heart.

For him, the simple moral was gold. The tortoise merely plodded along to the best of its abilities, relying solely on perseverance, trailing behind at a sustainable pace; but in the end, its patience paid off (at least, that's how he chose to interpret it). What a heart-warming story.

Renji believed, and so he adopted the motto for all his studies, slowly and patiently following his tutors' instructions and making marginal, but steady, incremental progress. His kido improved, as did his shunpo, and he felt a heady rush of satisfaction in finding himself near the top of class, only second to his friend Kira.

Renji steadfastly practiced this policy in all aspirations… and that included his love-life as well.

Renji had been head over heels for his Rukongai nakama for as long as he could remember, and probably much, much longer (Memory was one of the marginal improvements). He was endlessly patient, never pushing, never expecting any more from his raven-haired salvation than she was willing to offer, practicing a subtlety his current captain would never have believed him capable of.

In return, he became indispensable to her. He was her best friend, her prime confidante, the one she relied on for support whenever she wished to play a prank on unsuspecting idiots from the Eleventh (formerly including himself) or share her delight at finding life size Chappys in the Kuchiki attic. He was the faithful sidekick in all her adventures, her punching bag in times of stress, her haven for the times she wished to reminiscence the old Inuzuri days.

A slow and steady relationship (well, one-sided, but still…), constructed on a concrete foundation of trust and carefully engineered, brick by brick over years and decades. Renji had learned to be satisfied with what he had, and they were happy (but not together, never together).

And then she had been assigned to Karakura.

Renji had been caught up in a flurry of excitement, embracing the responsibility that came with his recent promotion and attempting to comprehend the enigma of his hopeless crush's elder brother; so he had been unable to sneak away to the Gensei and keep a watchful eye on his trouble-magnet love. He still thought of her with fondness though, sparing a few moments during long nights of dull paperwork and routine surveillance missions to ponder her reaction to his elevated status. He said a quiet prayer for her safety and well-being, choosing to humour her new-found independence and to trust her to return to him in one piece.

But her assignment had spiralled downwards, and she lost her powers to a human brat and was perceived as guilty of treason.

Even as he stood silently and watched Rukia'a adopted brother blackmail her into accompanying them, even as he slid the bars of her prison across her face, Renji had harboured optimism (ridiculous, in retrospect) that everything would go back to normal.

Routine and stability may be reassuring, but they blind the eyes to the innocuous symptoms of change, damming the flow till the tsunami overwhelms all.

Renji was woefully unprepared for Rukia's execution, stewing in internal conflict and self-loathing and unable to think coherent except for a desperate why?

But Ichigo has stormed into Seireitei and her heart, carving a special niche for himself despite her warm friendliness that screamed of ignorant romantic indifference. Their banter, rude and violent as it was, spoke of a level of understanding deeper than simple words and thoughtful gestures.

It was an unspoken intimacy that previously has belonged to Renji alone, shaped through years of mutual support and loyalty and shared circumstances, slowly and steadily and surely growing. It was their private reassurance, and Renji had believed it to be the foundation of their relationship (…). It simply wasn't fair that Ichigo could simply come in and wedge his way in between.

Plagued by questions, Renji nonetheless played his role of rescuer diligently, till Aizen came along, of course; but by then Seireitei was in so much uproar that the twice-failed execution (once by them, once by their enemies) no longer mattered. And then Ichigo went back to the Gensei, and life assumed some sense of normalcy.

Renji has felt threatened in his… whatever he had with Rukia… only twice before. The first, when the impeccably-dressed captain oozing nobility and superiority had quietly shattered their somewhat-family with his unforeseeable offer of adoption. The second, while he stood awkwardly at the threshold of the thirteenth division, unnoticed while Rukia's lieutenant ruffled her raven crown as she watched him with awe-struck and grateful eyes.

Ichigo was too much like Kaien for comfort. The worst part was that Renji could not help liking the orange-head for his uncouth nature and his unwavering solidarity. Ichigo had shaken the core of Renji's beliefs and convinced the red-head to go against the grain for his beliefs; and for that, Renji revered him just as much as the obese trainer who rambled about races and rabbits. That is to say, not all that much respect, especially to Ichigo's face; a fair bit of whine and snark (for let's face it, the guy is stupid most of the time); and a soft spot his heart which he would never, ever admit but which people could see anyway.

Not that Ichigo had not once expressed an iota of interest, or even affection, for the one endearingly nicknamed 'midget', but somehow, his blustered aggressive acceptance of her kicks and punches seemed to convey just how much he cherished her (Maybe it was an S&M thing?).

A dysfunctional love triangle. Did Rukia even see them as anything more than friends? Did Ichigo feel anything other than friendship and a sense of moral responsibility towards Rukia? And where the hell did Renji fit into the whole mess?

What did Ichigo have that Renji lacked, after all? Sure, he was stronger; but Rukia would rather explode than admit that she needed the protection of a man. After all, Ichigo was just as dim-witted and brash as Renji (if not more…). And they were equally colourful in hair and personality. In fact, Renji may have a plus on that one. He was sure that Byakuya would prefer Rukia being with his subordinate rather than the unpredictable ryoka. The noble's dislike for Ichigo was palpable.

So what was it that stuck them together like glue?

Maybe Rukia just liked rabbits more. Was her Chappy obsession unconsciously leading her to favour the metaphorical rabbit in the race to her heart?

After much agonizing, Renji decided to go by his personal motto: slow and steady. If the strawberry actually found a snug crevice in the smooth ice pillars upholding Rukia's squishy romantic emotions above all manner of masculine wiles; then he would concede defeat and extend the olive branch of peace. (Or perhaps those herbal leaves his captain regularly procured from Unohana-taichou; Ichigo's love life would undoubtedly be filled with injuries)

If not, the Renji could always have a hearty laugh while watching the orange-head slip and slide on the frictionless ice. Not that Renji had ever been a graceful skater.

Rukia had done nothing (so far) to indicate that Ichigo was the man of her dreams. And Renji had always been ridiculously optimistic. So for now, Renji would bide his time, slowly and steadily, waiting for the opportune moment to make one last shunpo to the finish line.

…

Birds chirped merrily outside the division barracks; lazy feline eyes watched their serenade with a hunter's confidence.

"You know, I attended a Shinigami Women's Association meeting today." Yoruichi drawled, settling herself comfortably in the sixth squad captain's office. "Your sister was quite active today. Something about making Chappy the official mascot of the SWA."

Byakuya did not respond. Predictably, that did not deter her in the slightest.

"Ne, Byakuya-bo, do you remember the time when you loved that giant bunny just as much as she does now?"

Answering herself, she mused, "Nah, of course not. Now you're all over that seaweed thing that looks like a cloud with legs."

If Byakuya was offended, he gave no indication of it. Do not wake the sleeping lion, it is wisely said; and Yoruichi is the epitome of feline in her fickleness.

Chuckling mildly, the dark-skinned woman reminisced about pleasanter times. "Remember when you were small, you were always getting into arguments and challenging people to races? And I just had to put you in place... as I always do."

Byakuya made a soft noise at that; but whether it was agreement or trauma was impossible to determine.

Yoruichi continued dreamily, "It was epic. Legends were made out of us. The hare and the tortoise, wasn't it called?"

"Indeed. You were offended by your un-feline euphemism." Byakuya, for some reason, makes no comment on his animal adaptation.

Yoruichi sighed, thinking wistfully of the irate noble who screamed at all those who dared call him a 'cute' rabbit. "Ah, fond memories. You never won, no matter how much of a head-start I gave you..."

The head of the Kuchiki house stiffened imperceptibly. "You plotted and schemed dishonourably behind my back."

"Oh?" A languorous, unconcerned response. Yoruichi tilted her head to the side and observed her former student calculatingly. "Are you saying I cheated?"

Byakuya knew, instinctively, that this was the time to stop, that he was giving her more material for future taunts. But the words seemed to wrench themselves from his lips, almost petulantly, "You said you weren't going to use shunpo. You said you were giving me a handicap."

Clearly, the defeat rankled.

An amused grin, not at all remorseful. "You said you didn't need one."

The faintest of frowns crossed the noble's face. "That doesn't mean you can go back on your word."

"The real problem was that Byakuya-bo always rushed ahead and burned himself out... do you remember that time you fell asleep right under the Sokyoku Hill?"

"...I still believe you drugged my tea."

…

This basically explores the IchiRukiRen triangle for the redhead's viewpoint. No concrete pairings, lots of backstory... doubles as both an unrequited love fic and life-changing incident type fic. Not really the regular cup of tea, so I can't guarantee you will like it.

Phew, it took a long, long time to get to the point; but that's the way of the rambling story, is it not?

After my psycho previous fic, I tried to throw together something reasonably sane; at least to make a better second impression. Not so successful; I'm afraid. Still swimming in a sea of crack.

That said; please review!