Disclaimer: All characters and other thingies within belong to their respective creators.

Notes: I was actually writing an omake for another fic when it spiraled completely out of control and turned into this. It wasn't planned, hence the 1.5 marker, and it's not a list type thing, but I hope you enjoy it. This should be the only non-report chapter, unless I come up with more inane ideas.

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Peer Reviews

Chapter 1.5

Ass Men

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It was evening and the sun had set over Seireitei. The 11th Division's barracks lay in shambles, a thick cloud of purple death hanging somberly over the ruins. Ice that had persisted through the midday sun was thick on the ground, silent testament to the battle that had taken place there.

It was a fight that would go down as one of the worst in recorded history, lasting well over three hours and demolishing good portions of the neighboring 10th and 12th Divisions as well. When the dust finally settled settled, fully half of the 11th Division had to be treated for frostbite. A hundred were taken directly to the 12th Division's barracks to receive antidotes for the poison of Konjiki Ashisogi Jizou. The rest suffered from countless tiny lacerations that adorned their entire bodies. Hitsugaya's zanpakuto had shattered, while Ashisogi Jizou's blade lay in the rubble, having snapped off at the hilt.

In the aftermath, Mayuri had stabbed himself with what remained of his zanpakuto, flowing his way down towards the 12th Division's barracks while bubbling ominously. Incidentally, Vice Captain Kusajishi reported discovering an "icky stain" near the 12th Division barracks at about that time, but helpfully added that she had "mopped it all down the drain". Byakuya offered silent condolences to his fallen comrade, who by now was no doubt collecting vital information on the state of Seireitei's plumbing system.

In her infinite wisdom, Unohana had seen to it that Zaraki was treated in a seperate wing of the building, leaving the remaining two captains sharing a large room. Beside Byakuya, Hitsugaya sighed and lay back in his bed, closing his eyes. The short captain really didn't see why he had to be bedridden when untold mountains of paperwork were no doubt being formed. He knew better than to hope that his vice captain would do any for him; she was probably out getting drunk.

Despite the film of unmelting ice that had formed over his wounds and staunched the flow of blood, Unohana had insisted on covering the younger captain with a swath of bandages. She'd blithely ignored his loud protests with a cheerfulness born from centuries of treating obstinate patients and shooed him into the hospital bed, seeming more like a reprimanding mother than anything.

As for Byakuya, Unohana had silenced him with a look that could have melted steel, gently leading him to his bed while radiating nearly palpable killer intent. Somehow, it had seemed unwise to reprimand a woman who merely had his best interests in mind, especially when her sword hand was straying dangerously close to her zanpakuto. Byakuya restrained himself from fidgeting; it would not due for a scion of the noble house of Kuchiki to do anything so undignified as fidget, especially in front of another captain.

A tense, uncomfortable silence fell over the room as Unohana left. Hitsugaya made an effort to ignore the mounds of paperwork that were piling up in his mind, while Byakuya resisted the urge to climb out of bed, injured as he was, and kill Kurosaki Ichigo for daring to act in a way that even suggested he was Rukia's boyfriend. It was Hitsugaya who spoke first. He needed to talk about something or he'd go crazy.

"Kuchiki."

Byakuya frowned; the boy was far too disrespectful considering his common blood and relative inexperience. Granted, the young captain a sight less impetuous than Ichigo - the nerve of the teenager, calling him just "Byakuya" - but Hitsugaya still managed to irritate the older captain.

Nevertheless, he replied. "Yes?"

For a long while Hitsugaya didn't continue, but Byakuya knew better than to prod him.

"...For the record, I'm not gay," he said finally, a deep frown marring his features. "I just can't see Matsumoto like that. I mean... sometimes a guy needs more than just breasts, you know?"

Byakuya blinked. He hadn't been expecting anything like that. Not at all. Apparently Captain Unohana's painkillers had had unexpected side effects.

"Now, Momo has a great ass," Hitsugaya continued, the words coming out in a veritable flood now that he finally had someone to listen. "Zaraki's got me all wrong, Kuchiki. It's not that I don't like women. I'm just not a breast man.

"I know I'm in the minority here in Soul Society. Half of my men start drooling when Matsumoto walks in, and I keep getting transfer proposals from Kyouraku and Ukitake. And Komamura. You have no idea how much that last one creeped me out. They're all obsessed with these two fleshy bags of fat stuck on people's chests."

Byakuya blinked again. He was learning far more about Captain Hitsugaya's sexual preferences than he had ever wanted to know.

Hitsugaya fell silent and simmered for a while, his face going red. "I..." He stopped, took a deep breath. "I'm an ass man!" It came out in a burst of words, a cathartic explosion, a confession that seemed to bring peace to the young captain's features.

In the silence that ensued, there was a small gasp. Hitsugaya's head whipped around fast enough to leave an afterimage, letting him catch a glimpse of the eavesdropper. A sinking feeling grew in his heart as he made out the small bun keeping the girl's hair done up; there was only one person in the Gotei 13 who had that distinctive hairstyle. Hinamori Momo. And judging from the way she'd run away, she'd heard everything.

"I am so fucked."

A few minutes after Hinamori had left and Byakuya confirmed that there were no more eavesdroppers, the 6th Division's captain made his statement.

"I, too, am an ass man."

It was enough of a shock to break Hitsugaya out of his funk. "You... you're not gay?"

Byakuya fixed him with a withering glare. "I could say the same of you, Captain Hitsugaya."

He colored. "Sorry."

Byakuka nodded once, then continued. "You know of my late wife, Hisana." He had to stop himself from sniffling aloud at the thought of her. Hitsugaya nodded. "She had an ass that could turn the head of a dead man," he said solemnly.

Hitsugaya nodded again, his eyes somber. "So we're both just misunderstood ass men?"

"So it would seem."

The knowledge formed a bond of sorts between the two captains, an odd camaraderie that instantly eased whatever disputes had existed between them.

"And by now there're probably rumors that we're both gay spreading all over Seireitei." Hitsugaya sighed. "Matsumoto read the report."

Byakuya shook his head, saying, "She is not to blame. Our enemy lies elsewhere."

Both ass men narrowed their eyes as they thought of the bane of their existence.

"Zaraki," Byakuya growled.

As if the name had been a summons, the wall opposite to them exploded in a spray of concrete and paint chips. Slowly, the debris settled, revealing the familiar shape of a man both captains knew far too well for their liking.

"Hey, fuckers," Zaraki Kenpachi said, seemingly unconcerned that he was swathed in bandages from head to toe, his left arm and both legs encased in casts. As he reached up and removed the eyepatch that restrained his reiatsu, all three casts disintegrated and he drew his zanpakuto, seemingly none the worse for wear.

"Round Two's on. What're ya pussies waiting for?"

Hitsugaya looked over at Byakuya, and a silent message passed between them. Byakuya gave the younger captain a slight nod, and as one they stood up slowly, forcing their aching bodies from their beds. Frigid water and shards of ice coalesced in Hitsugaya's hand, the air temperature dropping noticeably as Hyourinmaru reforged itself in a burst of cold air. Byakuya simply drew Senbonzakura from its place beside his bed and held it in front of him, point facing towards the floor.

"Bankai."

In the end, of course, Unohana won.