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Chapter Text

First Category: Fighting Fabulous

The lights flared and swiveled, illuminating the main stage as Shunsui announced, “Welcome souls and citizens, humans and hollows, to our first ever 13 Court Guard Squads Drag Ball!”

The assembled crowd of eclectic onlookers broke out in lively applause. In the spirit of collaboration and magnanimity, the event had been opened to residents of the Rukongai, in addition to the Seireitei, their human allies, and even some arrancar who had been convinced to attend.

“Let me introduce myself,” Shunsui continued. “I am Kyoraku Shunsui, the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, and tonight, your fabulous host for this evening of dazzling and glamorous spectacles!”

The audience cheered again; Shunsui let the adulation wash over him for a moment, feeling his oats in his floor-length, mermaid-skirted pink gown covered in intricate floral details over an ombre base. The design was obviously inspired by the robe he typically wore over his captain’s haori, yet elevated with rhinestone accents highlighting the vining flowers and leaves of the strapless dress, leaving Shunsui’s hirsute chest on display, leading up to his shaggy beard and coiffed natural hair. His face was beat for the gods - or, rather - the gods of death, with complimentary hues of rose on his lips and turquoise around his eyes.

Ichigo’s supporters took up a notable section of the gallery, with his sisters and Orihime whooping loudly. Chad-o and Ishida sat more stoically, there to support their friend but not entirely sure what they were in for. Isshin was wearing a t-shirt with Ichigo’s face on it, along with the slogan, ‘Not today, Aizen!,’ and clinging to Yuzu melodramatically.

“Thank you, thank you one and all,” Shunsui settled the audience with his sultry voice. “Please join me in welcoming to the stage our esteemed judges panel for this evening’s show. You know him as the Captain of the 13th, our silver-haired daddy who has a smile for everyone. Will he abandon his pacifist nature tonight to throw some shade? It’s Ukitake Jushiro!”

To enthusiastic cheering, Jushiro entered the runway from backstage in an immaculate three-piece suit with a vibrant purple paisley tie and matching pocket square. His long white hair somehow looked even more voluminous than usual, billowing around him as he strode confidently to the end of the runway. Shunsui winked and blew a kiss to his husband, looking sexy as ever.

Jushiro posed twice, letting the audience appreciate his angles, before descending from the stage to take his seat at the judges table.

“Our next judge comes to us all the way from Hueco Mundo. He’s your favourite blue-haired kitty-girl, the arrancar with the best style house-down boots — it’s Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez!”

The crowd clapped and whooped as Grimmjow sauntered onto the stage with his hands in his pockets and didn’t linger as he made his way downstage toward Shunsui. His face didn’t betray any excitement or interest whatsoever. Those in the know concluded that he was only doing this for Ichigo.

He crossed his arms over his chest and did a quarter turn to his right and left - that counted as posing right? - before planting himself in the chair to Jushiro’s left.

“This next judge is practically a drag queen himself, with his sensational everyday style, eccentric personality, and cutting remarks. You know him, you love to hate him, but this prawn is unbothered. Please welcome Kurotsuchi Mayuri!”

Captain Kurotsuchi entered the stage, greeted by scant clapping, in his typical attire, sporting a new headpiece for the occasion, looking not entirely out of place in this context. His gold toothy grin glinted in the stage lights as his tented fingertips rested together in front of his chest.

Instead of posing, he just quietly nodded to the audience, keeping his shimmering smile in place until he was seated beside Grimmjow.

“And finally,” Shunsui brought the audience back to rapt attention. “Our judges panel wouldn’t be complete without the representation of our favourite pretty plushy mod-soul — it’s Kon!”

The stuffed lion that Kon inhabited jumped out from backstage and cartwheeled toward the crowd, shouting, “Karakuraiza in the house!” awarding him with a thunderous round of applause. The audience was living and ready for this event to start!

“Now to introduce our contestants for the evening. They won’t be gracing the stage for a few minutes yet, but that gives me a chance to tell you all what’s really been going on in the squad six barracks…”

While Shunsui pandered to the audience, spilling as much figurative tea as he reasonably could — without receiving threats of insubordination after the show — backstage was abuzz with shinigami and each one’s entourage scrambling to finalize their last minute touches.

Izuru and Rangiku were assisting Shuhei in getting into his first of the evening's looks.

“I don’t get why you couldn’t have been the one to do this,” Izuru said to Rangiku exasperatedly.

“Because my little flower, drag is typically men dressed as women. Besides, my natural curves would have been an unfair advantage,” Rangiku smiled ruefully.

“Where are the blue and silver rhinestone shoes?? I need my best pumps to elevate this look!” Shuhei whined.

“Are you sure that wig is the right choice?” Izuru commented.

“What’s wrong with it?” Shuhei gasped.

“Nothing sweetie! It looks perfect,” Rangiku reassured. “‘Zuru doesn’t have the street cred to make comments like that,” she confirmed, slapping Izuru on the shoulder.

Looking wounded, Izuru found the platform pumps for Shuhei and helped him step into them.

Across the backstage area, Renji and Byakuya were fussing over each other.

“Don’t you think only one of us should be competing?” Renji asked, while Byakuya zipped the dress at Renji’s back.

“Nonsense,” Byakuya stated. “We are both fierce competitors and have proven our place in the preliminary rounds. Some other squads presented more than one volunteer, and we are just the fortunate few who remained.”

Renji turned to look at him, face adorably awestruck that his Taichou could look even more beautiful than usual in full drag.

At the dopey lopsided grin on Renji’s face, Byakuya made a pinched expression, still somewhat uncomfortable at the obvious affection from his lieutenant on display so unabashedly. He’d have to get better at this — Renji deserved better — because he was the opposite of ashamed of his and Renji’s relationship. That was another reason for his vehement pride in their participation tonight. He wanted to show Renji off, and stand at his side with admiration.

Not far from them, Ichigo was peering out to the audience where he held the curtain open slightly, trying his best to be stealthy. Without his wig on yet, and a bathrobe covering his look, he was more inconspicuous than he would be shortly.

Rukia’s head popped out from the curtain, just under Ichigo’s, asking, “Is he here? I can’t see!”

“Don’t worry Rukia, maybe one day your height will catch up to your age. Ooof!” he grunted at Rukia’s elbow in his chest. “He’s at the judges table, beside Jushiro.”

Rukia’s eyes slid to the panel of judges seated in front of the stage. The table wasn’t raised, to not block the crowd behind them, so her view of Grimmjow was incomplete.

“All I see is electric blue hair,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Ichigo sighed as he confirmed.

Rukia let out an exasperated huff, “But what’s he doing? Is he excited? Did he try to find you backstage?”

Ichigo snorted, “Grimmjow doesn’t know how to feel excited unless he’s fighting somebody.” Or in bed with me, Ichigo thought privately. “He waved at me before he was introduced. I can’t believe he actually agreed to do this!”

“So he is only doing this for you, right?”

“Honestly? I think it’s mostly for me, yeah, but also Harribel volunteered him for the gig when Kyoraku asked for Hueco Mundo’s participation. For diplomacy or some shit like that. Grimmjow couldn’t give two fucks about terms between shinigami and arrancar, but I think…” Ichigo paused. “For me, he’s pretending to care.”

“Nah I don’t buy it. What kind of depraved sexual favors did you promise him?” Rukia questioned with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

He let a small private smile grace his lips, and said nothing, as he and Rukia pulled the curtain back to get Ichigo ready for his runway presentation.

Yumichika was trying not to pace. What was this sensation — was he really feeling nervous? He had no reason to be nervous in a venue like this. He was made for this! It was just the other contestants…actually looked pretty fabulous too.

“Babe,” Ikkaku said to him sternly. “Unclench. You’ve got this in the bag.”

Ikkaku grabbed Yumichika’s hands to stop him grasping them together. “Don’t ruin your nails, I spent forever on that manicure,” he mumbled. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’re so fucking gorgeous — not just tonight, all the time — there’s literally no competition with you up on stage.”

Yumichika sighed deeply, grateful for the anchoring presence of his partner. He closed his perfectly ombre-shaded eyes and smiled, feeling his conviction return in a wave.

“You’re right,” he affirmed, looking at Ikkaku’s dark eyes. “I think I’m just feeling exposed — stop it!” he chastised as Ikkaku snickered, enjoying Yumichika’s revealing outfit. “I mean that it’s just me being me up there, not a show of strength, or reading someone to filth, just…me.”

“And serving the incredible designs that your loving boyfriend produced for you. So really, I’ll be up there with you, wrapped around you like always.”

Yumichika loved when Ikkaku spoke like this; moments of vulnerability and comfort that were reserved exclusively for him.

He brought their faces closer and murmured, “I love you,” before sealing his lips in a sweet kiss.

“OKAY! Let’s get ready everybody! Queens to the stage; queens walking,” Shinji bellowed from his podium near the stage entrance. As the showrunner of the event, Shinji was relishing his duties to boss around the backstage beauties.

All the contestants clambered toward the stage entrance, lining up in the order Shinji told them.

He spoke into the headset he wore, knowing Shunsui would hear him in the receiving earpiece, “First category, go.”

They heard Shunsui announce from the stage, “Now, are you ready everyone?” The audience clapped. “C’mon, let them hear you backstage – are you really ready?!” The crowd erupted and Shunsui had to bellow over them to present the first category.

“Category is: Fighting Fabulous, elevated glamourous battle-wear. From squad nine, he's your versatile lieutenant, Hisagi Shuhei!”

Rangiku and Izuru cheered for their friend as Shuhei strolled down the catwalk. When he returned backstage he flashed his fellow lieutenants a broad smile, looking relieved.

He glanced at Ichigo, next in line, clapping him on the shoulder and said, “No sweat. Slay ‘em, Kurosaki.”

From out front, Shunsui declared, “All the way from the living world, our favourite substitute soul reaper, Kurosaki Ichigo!”

Shinji motioned for Ichigo to advance and he entered the stage with a self-assured stride, posing upstage with Zangetsu draped casually across his shoulders to let the audience appreciate his look before he sauntered downstage. The sheer blue skirt billowed around his legs and glittery high heel-clad feet as the armoured chest plate and shoulder pauldrons glinted under the lights.

“Armour? I barely even know her!” Jushiro quipped.

The crown of orange braided hair stayed immaculately in place as Ichigo gestured with his sword to emphasize his pose at the end of the runway.

He made eye contact with Grimmjow and winked. To his credit, Grimmjow retained his stony scowl, but didn’t take his eyes off of Ichigo.

“Yeah don’t think I’ll play favourites just ‘cause you wore my colour,” Grimmjow growled. The uptick of his snarly mouth gave away his masked interest.

Ambling back to the stage entrance, Ichigo stole one last sultry look behind as he hefted his sword over one shoulder and exited the catwalk.

He let out a great exhale as he rejoined his fellow contestants backstage.

“From squad six, your favourite fiery-haired lieutenant — Abarai Renji!” Shunsui’s voice rang out over the loudspeakers.

At Shinji’s wordless signal, Renji gave Byakuya’s hand one final squeeze and entered the runway.

Byakuya watched Renji’s presentation from the wings, unable to keep the pride from his face. When Renji returned backstage, Byakuya gave him a chaste kiss — anyone who wanted to comment could damn well take it up with the fearsome Kuchiki clan leader themselves — and took his turn on the stage.

“Now, rank has very little to do with this evening’s talent, so please suspend your bias and judge fairly. Presenting the captain of the sixth division — Kuchiki Byakuya!”

Byakuya’s elevated armor ensemble was all-over gold, with exaggerated shoulder pieces caging the top of his arms and a corset-style mid-section with lamé draping down from his hips, leaving his slender legs exposed. Renji thought — though, Renji always thought — he looked fucking sexy, and was already forming his own plans to ask Byakuya to wear the outfit again in private. Face flushing at his own imagination, Renji was surprised by, but quickly embracing this new turn-on.

Byakuya glided down the runway, enjoying the applause as he posed at the left, and then the right side of the stage. His placid face didn’t bear a smile, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he was definitely enjoying himself.

“Gold may be my favourite,” Kurotsuchi commented, “but this look isn’t something I would fight over.”

As Byakuya returned gracefully backstage and stood in front of Renji, the lieutenant was speechless, eyes and mouth open widely. Byakuya merely smirked as he walked away to prepare his outfit change for the next category, dragging Renji by the hand.

“Last but never least, the always effervescent fifth seat of squad eleven - Ayasegawa Yumichika!”

The audience applauded loudly as Yumichika ascended to the stage, showing off his body in the gorgeously draped gold fabric. He didn’t love that he had to follow Byakuya, who was also covered in gold, but Yumichika was confident that his outfit was better, and different enough to stand out. After all, he and Ikkaku had designed and produced all of his looks together, and they were always a winning combination.

His arms were covered in a bolero-style garment, made of gold-coloured meshy fabric that resembled chain mail. The top stopped at his collarbone, displaying a beaded bust and his full torso, crowned by a sculptural belt at his hips and swathes of the same gold-mail fabric down his lithe legs.

He looked like a total knockout.

Ikkaku watched as he practically floated down the stage, commanding attention with his very presence. He was so fierce – in every sense of the word.

“Serving body-ody-ody!” Kon gushed.

As Yumichika approached the upstage egress he fluidly removed the bolero and turned to the audience, allowing them to fully savor the elegantly beaded bra adorning his chest. Exiting stage right, the applause diminishing with his last step, he was elated from the experience and couldn’t wait to present his next two looks.

He practically jumped into Ikkaku’s arms, who held him tightly, saying, “You were amazing! Everyone was dumbstruck.”

“I know!” Yumichika enthused. “I feel like a goddess! Come on, help me change for the next category.” The two of them scampered to their curtained-off dressing area holding hands tightly.

“We’ll give the contestants some time to change and prepare themselves for the next category, while we enjoy some entertainment from the judges,” Shunsui told the audience excitedly. “Please welcome to the stage, our devoted captain of the 13th division, the silver fox of the Seireitei, and my personal favourite companion: Ukitake Jushiro!”

Jushiro rose from his judges chair and ascended the stage, grasping Kyorkau’s hand affectionately as they traded places, Shunsui leaving the stage to watch the show from Jushiro’s warm seat.

Jushiro manifested the tangible forms of his zanpakuto twins and they proceeded to perform an acrobatic and juggling act that was as impressive as it was ridiculous. Ichigo’s supporters couldn’t help but think of the pair of zanpakuto as the Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee of Soul Society.

Chapter Text

Second Category: Shinigami at Night

As the Zanpa-circus performance carried on, the contestants scrambled backstage to change into their second category looks. Retinue like Rangiku and Rukia enjoyed the acrobatics from the wings, commenting to themselves.

"You know, I saw them practicing one time in the squad's courtyard — they really improved since then," Rukia confided.

"Ooooh they're so cuuuute!" Rangiku squealed excitedly. "I just want to scoop them up and take them home."

"Trust me," Rukia deadpanned, "you don't."

While, on the other side of the area, Renji and Byakuya were helping each other get changed. Helping that actually consisted of hands trailing longer than necessary over chests and backs, and lingering glances that ended in blushing eye contact.

Renji was the one to snap their focus back to the task at hand, when he caught his captain staring at his back tattoos in the mirror.

"Byakuya-Taichou," he said affectionately, smirk tilting his lips.

"What, huh? Oh right, intermission is nearly over," replied the usually calm and composed Captain of the 6th.

"Oh no, I want to see some of it before it's too late!" Renji rushed to the nearest curtain he could peer behind, gasping at the gymnastic demonstration. "Whoooooaaaa! WOW! Taichou, imagine how beautiful Sen-"

"No."

"But, just-"

"No."

Renji put on his best shiney-eyed puppy-dog face and Byakuya just gave him a hard stare for a long moment before saying, again, "No.

"He should not disgrace his squad like this; using his Zanpakuto — a sacred Shinigami instrument — as pure entertainment is completely unacceptable. Deplorable."

Byakuya was quick to turn his head to Renji, eyes wide with urgency. "Don't…tell him I said that though."

Renji laughed and simply kissed him on the cheek. Grasping his hand, he pulled him back to their dressing station to finish changing.

Jushiro embraced his husband before leaving the stage, beaming and slightly out of breath.

“Thank you so very much for that enthralling act, Jushiro and Sōgyo no Kotowari! Show them your appreciation everyone!” The audience applauded along with Shunsui, who gazed at Jushiro with deep affection.

Backstage, Shuhei, Ichigo, Renji, Byakuya, and Yumichika were lining up at the stage entrance, decked out in their second category outfits.

Shinji relayed over the stage comms, “Second category, go.”

Shunsui announced, “And now, category is: Shinigami at Night. Evening wear that tells a story about where you're going.”

Bypassing the full introductions this round, Shunsui simply stated each contestant’s name to welcome them to the stage in turns.

Shuhei entered the stage first, an explosion of colour in his long, wavy, bubble-gum pink sunset wig and a corseted mini-dress that looked like a summer street festival had done a technicolor yawn all over his person. Accessorized with his stunning smile and glittered-up face markings, Shuhei hopped down the stage, stopping to dance and groove at either end of the catwalk; he was obviously dressed for a party.

“I think I just heard a Hollow scream — no wait, that’s just how loud your outfit is!” Kurotsuchi remarked.

Shuhei wasn’t fazed as he let his party animal take center stage, spreading his infectious perkiness throughout the room. Backstage, Izuru and Rangiku high-fived with mutual pride for their friend.

After Shuhei returned backstage, it was Ichigo’s turn to present his second look. From the wings, the other contestants could clearly hear Ichigo’s friends and family in the audience cheering loudly for him as he owned the runway for these few moments. The unmistakable tearful voice of Isshin bellowed across the room with his sobbing cries of, “That’s my boy!”

Renji thought to himself that he was happy to be third so he could watch Shuhei and Ichigo in their runway presentations before his own. He was still not as confident as he would have liked walking in heels, but the expression on Byakuya’s face silenced all his fears. If this man could look at him with an insatiable blend of reverence and fondness like that, then it seemed to Renji he would do everything in the world to be deserving of that affection.

Almost on autopilot, Shinji waved his arms in dual mirrored gestures, guiding the contestants this way and that, as Ichigo descended the stage and Renji ascended it.

"Queens walking, queens walking," Shinji muttered into his headset, in perfect rhythm with Shunsui's announcement of Renji entering the stage.

Renji’s evening-wear consisted of an off-shoulder top draped around his arms and chest, tucked into a beautifully structured, strapless corset, cinching him at the waist and pushing up his chest. The bottom half of the gown had a wide skirt that started short in the front and widened to a huge cape-like train that cascaded behind him as he glided around the stage and fanned out as he twirled.

His gown allowed a lot of his arms, chest, back, and leg tattoos to be exposed, adding his own special element to the ensemble. Byakuya felt equal parts entranced and envious at the display; he preferred when Renji’s tattoos were shown off only to him.

Backstage, Byakuya felt himself flush at the thought and turned his head in the direction of the nearest wall, to hide his embarrassment. He met Rukia's eyes, who was leaning against the wall trying to get a glimpse of Renji from the stage wings. She smiled at him, open love on display in her face — love for him, for Renji, for the whole damned event, really — and shared in a small whisper that was meant just for him, "He's so strong and beautiful, isn't he?"

Byakuya returned her grin with a tiny uptick of one side of his mouth, and murmured, "Yes, indeed."

The story of Renji's look was attending an awards ceremony, and when he reached the end of the runway closest to the audience, he reached into the large pocket that was disguised in his train, and pulled out the makeshift award. The award itself was a nod to his Zanpakuto, Zabimaru; it was designed to resemble a snake, although Zabimaru wasn’t a cobra, the award displayed the flared hood of skin around the snake’s head, with shining jeweled eyes. Employing his best effort at acting, Renji feigned surprise and delight, pretending that he just received an important accolade.

"What did you win — Best Use of a Gotei 13 Budget to Humiliate Yourself in Silk?" Kurotsuchi screeched with a laugh.

Jushiro chuckled, "Hahaha, more likely he was voted most endearing lieutenant by his peers."

Renji couldn't help the slight pinkening of his cheeks at hearing the comments and thanked his lucky stars that he had already turned away from the audience to exit the main stage. He didn't let any emotions show on his face as he descended the runway with poise and confidence, looking out at the crowd with a final alluring gaze before exiting the stage.

He grasped Byakuya’s hand, giving it a loving squeeze, as they passed each other backstage and Byakuya entered the catwalk.

His evening look had a simpler story; he was dressed to the nines and ready for a noble party. His iridescent gown reflected shades of purple, green, and blue, colours shifting with his movement under the stage lights. The dress was structured in a severe hourglass shape, with matching full-arm opera gloves covering hands that Byakuya placed on his hips, accentuating his narrow waist.

He sauntered smoothly across the stage, an exalted air oozing around him like molasses. He took his time to rest in sculptural postures at each side of the runway, letting the judges and audience get a view of his ensemble from every angle. Renji watched his boyfriend in awe, thinking he was born for this.

From the judges table, Kon called out, "You look like a tall drink of rainbow!"

To which Kurotsuchi snapped, "The amount of sense that made is equal to the amount of brains in your head. None!"

He walked unhurriedly, with his nose lifted in a regal expression; the fitted tailoring of his gown didn’t allow for much flexibility, making his poses stiff and refined. He had to rely on his cutting glare to illustrate the story of the ensemble.

“Go slower!” Grimmjow quipped from the judges table.

"Go slower: title of your sex tape," Kon deadpanned at Grimmjow, earning a boot to the stuffed-lion face from the arrancar.

Byakuya ignored the judges' heckling and glided back to the upstage egress with one last flirting glance at the audience over his shoulder.

Shinji waved at Yumichika to take the stage. Ikkaku decided to steal one last kiss before he let his boyfriend go, earning himself a smack on the shoulder and an affronted look from Yumichika, claiming, “You’ll ruin my lipstick!”

But there was no animosity in the chide, as Yumichika carried his laugh and magnetic smile onto the stage with him.

The audience erupted in cheers watching Yumichika saunter around the stage. Ikkaku’s smile was so broad it nearly split his face in half. Even Ichigo and Shuhei enjoyed watching Yumichika’s runway presentation.

Ikkaku threw an arm around Shuhei’s shoulders, exclaiming, “See that, Shu? That’s how it’s done!” He cupped a hand around his mouth, shouting, “Yeah babe, show off those assets!”

Shinji glowered and gave him a reprimanding, “Shhhh!”

If Yumichika heard him, it didn’t show. The raven-haired fifth seat was the picture of elegance as he strode along the catwalk, as graceful as a swan gliding through a lake. He took his time striking still poses for the audience, looking beautiful from all angles, before returning to the group in the wings.

Shunsui took the stage again to thank all the contestants and introduce the next intermission’s entertainment. “Get ready folks, because the performances don’t stop here. This next intermission is one you won’t want to miss. Quite possibly the last person you would expect to perform spoken-word poetry, please give a warm welcome to our visiting arrancar friend, all the way from the arid acres of Hueco Mundo, it’s Grimmjow!”

Grimmjow got up from his seat at the judges table and slunk his way to the stage, keeping his hands shoved deep in his pockets and the perpetual scowl on his face. He stood, looking indifferent, as he scrutinized the audience before beginning. Despite his body language saying ’My participation is less than voluntary and this whole evening is a shitshow I’d rather forget,’ his voice carried confidently through the theatre as he recited his piece.

He cleared his throat and began:

The white haunts me
Gets under my skin
Taunts me
Makes the veil thin

The white of your eyes,
Your teeth, your mask
I know what you want
Before you ask

Come to me broken
Bleed on my floor
Fall into this whole
Together once more

Try escaping your fate
By cutting off mine
The cyclone of souls
The sands of time

You’re defined by
Everything you’re not
The shape of your outline
The dreams that you fought

So fuck all the bullshit
It was never your role
Saving everything
Has taken its toll

Blue turns to white
In the infinite sky
Claws grasping at sunrise
As we say goodbye

*

The audience was shocked silent for a beat and then broke out into vibrant applause. No one had expected that!

Grimmjow preened as the cheering followed him off the stage and he resumed his seat at the judges' table.

In the wings, if anyone bothered to look closely where a curtain was pulled aside just so, they might have seen a face topped by orange hair with a watery smile gracing its features.