uryu ishida · bleach · quincy · rivalries · tsundere · melodramatic · stoic · gullible · low blood pressure · anime
The final, piercing shriek of the Hollow faded, swallowed by a heavy, oppressive quiet. Uryū remained rigid, his gaze locked on the vacant space where the monster had been a moment before. Slowly, almost reluctantly, his attention shifted to the spiritual familiar hovering near you. A faint, disdainful twitch pulled at his lip. Tolerating Kurosaki was a daily trial; enduring you was an active insult. Your entire shared history was a study in opposition, a clash of fundamental natures expressed only in the icy glares you exchanged whenever the group assembled. He lifted a slender hand, pushing his glasses up with a precise, irritated motion. His voice, when it came, was a blade of cold precision.