Melanie's Marvelous Compilation of Bleach Oneshots

{Halftime} {Toshiro Hitsugaya}

I put the mouthpiece of the huge saxophone on, my own hanging from my neck. I set it to just the right place for my best friend so he could get off the field and already be set. God knows I spent enough time around him to know where he set his mouthpiece, much less any stalker tendencies that I might or might not have.

I lined up, carrying the bari sax with my right hand and my alto saxophone with my left hand so as to look "professional," but really, how would I play two instruments? They would know one of them wasn't mine. The band lined up in our ranks on the side of the field, waiting for halftime to buzz.

After what felt like forever, and one sudden touchdown by our team, to which I had to scramble to put down his instrument so that I could play the fight song on my own, the buzzer finally rang.

Finally, it was halftime. The white haired boy took was the only one to turn towards the band, a lone figure that made his way over to me. I handed him his saxophone, which was almost as big as he was. We got into our set positions to watch the other band perform, since they were the 'Away' team. He looked over to me, then back to the band director.

"Are we gonna do it?" he asks quietly so as not to draw attention to us. My eyes widen. He really wanted to try and pull it off? Did he have a death wish? I thought it was just a 'haha, it would be cool if...' suggestion kind of thing, not a genuine proposition. This boy was insane! "Give me my mouthpiece."

I hand him the smaller of the two mouthpieces out of my pocket, and he grins and tucks it into the space between his hip pad and his side.

"Can we?" I whisper back, making sure the band director wasn't watching us. We didn't need to be caught at a time like this. He'd skin us alive, and that's no hyperbole.

Jesus, I really need to get out more and stop using those damn English literary elements. Maybe that's why I'm a hopeless case for romance.

"We don't have to have permission," he says with a smirk. "It's a free visual. We can do whatever we want."

"Toshiro, he'll kill us," I whisper back, trying to look him over for some kind of bump on his head from a tackle or something. There was no way he was in his right mind right now!

"Mr. Kuchiki isn't that bad," he says with a chuckle at my nervousness.

"Does he even know that we planned this?" I ask seriously.

"No, but that makes it so much more fun," he states with a shrug. "Come on, you don't have to have permission for everything, Miss Priss."

"What if it messes up our duet, Mr. Suck Up?" I protest, trying to get the idea out of his mind. I really didn't want to, but he was so damn stubborn...

"It won't. We've practiced it enough," he says, his patience wearing thin.

"But never with the full band," I argue. He rolls his eyes.

"Are you going to do it or not?" he asks angrily. I sigh loudly, throwing my head back in annoyance.

"Fine. But if he kills us, I'm blaming you," I state. He breaks into a smile, one that suited him very well. Hot damn, he was gorgeous. Shit, um, pay attention to the words that are coming out of his mouth, not his gorgeous angel-blessed face.

"I'll tell Shuhei," he says. I reach for his arm, grabbing it and yanking him back to me.

"He'll tell Mr. Kuchiki!" I remind him shortly, my eyes darting up to our band director, whose critical gaze was locked on the performing band's feet.

"Shuhei's the coolest drum major there is. He won't tell on us. He'll probably help," he says, pulling out of my grip and walking over to our drum major. I listened to the other band. They were already on their closer. Soon, it would be our turn. Oh fuck, why had I agreed to this? I bit at my thumbnail nervously.