seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Czechia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
inuzuri gremlin squad
英語
Be ready for the feels.
I think you should draw some Inuzuri faces the group might make while playing street futsal. You can get a wide range of dramatic expressions out of some youth sports.
🥅⚡Y O U T H 🔥⚽🔥S P O R T S ⚡🥅
*Before anyone gets on me: Renji is playing goalie, that's why he's using his hands
I know you said faces but I decided to do poses because I am insane. I almost gave up when I remembered that no one has shoes in Inuzuri and I was going to have to draw toes, but I persevered. It turned out to be a really great exercise, and these came out surprisingly good??? I also really enjoyed the opportunity to practice, um, whatever you call motion lines and explosions and stuff. Storytelling elements. Anyway, thanks so much for the suggestion!!
As a bonus, here's a scrap of street football fanfic from my failed attempt to rewrite anime episode 32 from Rukia's point of view, because doing this reminded me that it existed and there's no way it's gonna see the light of day otherwise:
In my continuing quest to wring meaning from the filler bits of Bleach anime episode #32, why are there 55 gallon oil drums in Inuzuri?
The obvious explanation is that the Seireitei ships its nuclear forbidden-kidou waste products out there, which also explains why there are so many carts.
Renruki Week Day 5: Love over a Lifetime
Rukongai no Kioku
YO! @bleachbleachbleach ! I noticed you were back on your "why are there so few wheels in Soul Society?" bullshit again, and I need your opinion on the swaggiest vehicle in all of Soul Society which is to say, this fucking sweet rickshaw that Renji and Rukia's pals breathed all over in the middle of their touching flashback episode:
At first, one might say, "what the hell is this beauty doing down in Inuzuri, of all places?" and the answer is that it's transporting some hometown overachiever who has become a Soul Reaper back up to the Seireitei (not that this is consistent with any world building this show has given us, ever).
HOWEVER, three seconds before, we get evidence that they also have wheeled carts in Inuzuri!!
There's also *two* wheeled carts visible at the beginning of the thrilling water heist sequence.
We often talk about what sort of economy exists in the Rukon, distribution of natural resources, etcetera, and I submit, for your consideration: Inuzuri is the chop shop capital of Soul Society and the only reason our pal is taking a rickshaw home is because it just got a new paintjob/upholstery and they're gonna resell for a tidy profit when they gets back up north.
Speaking of that nice shinigami who gave Renji and Rukia some rice balls, in case anyone was wondering what became of them, they were one of Ashido's friends who died in Hueco Mundo. Upsetting!
Grats on your anniversary and 500 followers! Here's to many many more. If it's not too much to ask, I'd love a drabble where Rukia and Renji open up an orphanage in Inuzuri and dedicate it to Hisana.
Anything for you, friend! I hope you like worldbuilding, because, uh, I like worldbuilding.
⚽ 🌶️ ⚽ 🌶️ ⚽
“Hey, look, Renji an’ Rukia are here!”
“D’you think they brought books again?”
“C’mon, Kaito, we’re allowed to knock off work when we get visitors, let’s go?”
“Go on, I wanna finish this,” Sakashita Kaito mumbled, as he staked up a rather anemic looking bean plant.
“They’re real nice, and Renji always has candy!” Rui shouted on her way out of the garden.
The afterlife was… not exactly what Kaito had expected. When he first got here, he assumed he had come to a very specific hell for asshole street kids. He could barely remember his life now, except that it had ended with a knife in an alley and that he had been a bad kid. All the kids in Inuzuri were street kids, or so he had thought, before, delirious with hunger, he got in another knife fight over a moldy bun, and woke up here, at the Hisana House. It had a fancier, more official name, but everyone called it the Hisana House.
If Kaito thought Inuzuri was weird, Hisana House was double weird. Triple weird, even. The Hisana it was named after had apparently been the super rich wife of some super rich dude up in the Seireitei. Maybe she had been a soft touch. Who knew why some rich people would bother opening a kid’s center down in District 78 of all places? It certainly didn’t feel like a place a rich person would design either. Nothing at Hisana House was nice or fancy, but that was good, because nice and fancy things tended to get stolen in Inuzuri. They practiced their writing in sand trays instead of on paper, because paper was valuable and portable. The roof never leaked and it was kept warm inside, because blankets tended to disappear, but it was a lot harder to make off with a whole-ass roof. And all the grown-ups who worked there were from Inuzuri themselves, often big tough people who looked like they ought to be breaking heads on street corners instead of teaching little kids to read. But that was good, too, because what Inuzuri needed more than anything else was jobs.
Hisana House got visitors from time to time. Mostly, it was business owners from the middle districts, because even if they had to pay for the emigration permit, Inuzuri kids who could read and write and do sums were still cheaper than the local labor, and it ended up being a bargain for both sides, because what could be more valuable than a ticket out of this shithole?
A few weeks, an old guy from the District 70 Consolidated Shinigami Recruitment Station showed up to fawn over a few of the kids. He had looked at Kaito for a long time, and left him with a tattered, inscrutable text book about something called spiritual energy and a set of exercises he was supposed to be doing, with the cryptic promise that if he got good at them, there might be a second hand practice sword in his future. Kaito felt like a weird asshole, squatting and “trying to sink his spirit into the earth, like the roots of a tree,” but he really wanted that practice sword.
“Hey, there.”
Kaito looked up.
There was a lady peeking into the garden. She was small, one of the smallest grown-ups he had ever seen, and she was way too clean and pretty to be from Inuzuri.
“How are those beans doing?” she asked, striding into the garden like she owned the place.
“For shit,” Kaito replies. “Nothing grows in Inuzuri.”
She made a humming sound. “That bok choy’s not doing half bad,” she observed.
“Yeah, it’s bok choy with every meal around here,” Kaito griped, though he was perfectly aware of how lucky he was to even get a meal every day.
The woman dug a few paper packets out of her pocket and held them out. “A few new varieties to try. These cucumbers are supposed to be resistant to that mold that took out the last ones, and these daikon can take much larger temperature swings than the usual variety.”
Kaito stood up, and wiping his hand on his yukata, took them gingerly.
“You’re new,” the lady observed. “I’m Rukia.”
“Sakashita Kaito,” he replied.
There was something weird about Rukia and he had just put his finger on it. Most of the kids around here felt like nothing, but there were a few-- the same ones that the old shinigami had chatted with, who felt like little flames, like a lit match. Kaito had met a girl on the street once who burned like a candle. The shinigami himself had felt like being too close to a campfire. They’d all gotten extra food before he showed up, and Kaito had felt exhausted after he left.
This Rukia lady was something else. She wasn’t a nothing, but she wasn’t a something, either. She was like an absence of something. For some reason, she reminded Kaito of a deep pit with spikes at the bottom, and a few leaves thrown over the top to disguise it. He wondered who she was. He wondered if you could hide the flame inside of yourself, what that would feel like to an outsider.
“How do you like it here?” she asked casually.
He shrugged. “Better than being hungry, I guess. You here to hire people?”
“Nah,” she replied. “Just dropping off some donations. Visiting. Checking on the peppers.”
Kaito glanced over at the peppers, the one thing that did grow in Inuzuri. Grew like crazy, actually. Unfortunately, they weren’t edible-- they were so spicy they would burn the shit out of your mouth. “I don’t even know why we bother with those,” Kaito snorted.
“Really?” Rukia asked, raising her eyebrow. “They’re really valuable, actually. There are rich dumbasses up in the Seireitei who will pay a mint for those stupid things. You probably didn’t know this place was self-funding, did you?”
Kaito blinked her, aghast.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned him with a grin. “You’d never find a fence that’ll take ‘em. You need a ton of export permits, and they need special handling. That’s the way with most of the good stuff down in Inuzuri.”
Kaito stared at the peppers for a moment. “Y’know, that makes me feel better, actually. I knew some rich guy wouldn’t open an orphanage down here out of the goodness of his heart. You’re the pepper lady, then?”
“Huh? No, I told you, just dropping some stuff off. I grew up around here, actually, before this place opened. It was almost impossible to get out then, but we did it. I like that this place is here. I wish we had a place like this when I was a kid.” She scratched her head. “Also, my husband is a nut for football, and he says that the only true football is Inuzuri streetball. You play?”
Kaito shook his head. “Nah.”
From around the building came a wail of “Rukiaaaaaa! We’re choosing teams!”
Rukia gestured with her head. “C’mon, then. You should learn.”
There was something about Rukia that made Kaito want to go along with whatever she said. Maybe it was because she was pretty, or because she seemed to understand how stuff worked around here, or maybe because she talked like she was used to bossing people around, but like many Inuzuri punks before him, he shrugged, and followed her lead.
I drabbled.
It’s half-inspired by @nono6thebleachfan‘s role-reversal challenge, although it’s not a reversal of a canon scene, it’s a reversal of this ~amazing~ piece of art by @acompletenonentity that I have been thinking about all weekend.
It’s full of blood and cussing, because Inuzuri, but on the bright side, this is the first story I’ve managed to write without Renji dropping the f-bomb, so that’s something.
Edit: It’s on AO3 now
