New story time! I've actually been planning this one for a while now. I wanted to try my hand at horror and what better victims than Ichigo and Toushiro are there?

Hope you guys like it!

Ichigo Kurosaki-Hitsugaya hummed softly along to the radio as he drove down a narrow country road, swerving to avoid a shallow pothole. Pine forests bordered either side of the road and the crisp wind tousled his hair as it blew through the open window. As beautiful as the scenery was, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit depressed; it was too different from the bustling streets and high-rise buildings of San Francisco. He had been driving for what felt like days and could have counted on one hand the number of buildings he had seen. It could be a good sort of different, but he hadn't been here long enough to tell.

He took a break from humming to sigh softly. He had reminded himself at least twenty times, in the past thirty minutes or so that the move was for the best; they needed to get away from San Francisco. But, honestly, right now Wyoming wasn't cutting it. He knew that their new house was right smack in the middle of wild, untamed nature, but he hadn't realised how wild and untamed the nature was turning out to be. All he could see were trees, lakes, and the occasional filed full of cows and sheep. Speaking of which, he slammed on the breaks as a heard of sheep darted out into the road. A middle-aged farmer waved apologetically at him and Ichigo nodded his head in acknowledgement. At least the people were friendly.

He glanced over to the passenger seat to see if the abrupt stop had upset his sleeping husband. Light snores told him otherwise and he smiled a little to see his head still resting against the car door; the seat belt straining at his chest. Usually, Toushiro was an impossibly light sleeper, but he had worn himself out driving nearly straight through the night. His medication didn't help much either.

Ten minutes later Ichigo began to see a few driveways – not more than pathways really – branching from the main road. A few of them were nicely kept, paved over and lined with neatly trimmed bushes or short brick walls. He paid attention to the number plates, hoping that he hadn't passed the one he was looking for.

"Fifteen, fifteen, fifteen," he muttered to himself; as if saying the word out loud would help him spot the number. He turned left a little further down the road onto a driveway that wasn't as nice as the others. Bare dirt and stones made the car shake as he drove along the narrow turns.

He let out another deep breath as he pulled up to the front of a rather large house and sat still for a few minutes to take it all in. He had seen pictures online; somehow it had seemed a bit smaller on the screen. It was a two story house – villa, or so the website had said – made predominantly of rough logs and grey stone. He was happy to see that the large windows had not been a lie and, overall, it seemed to resemble what he had looked at online. He probably should have come to check in out in person before deciding to buy, but their move had been rushed. He pulled up a little further, so that they wouldn't have to walk too far to unload boxes then leaned over to wake Toushiro.

"Hey, Shiro, we're here," he said gently touching his husband's shoulder.

Toushiro jolted awake, causing Ichigo to jump slightly, and ran a hand down his face, breathing deeply.

"Bad dream?" Ichigo asked.

"It's nothing, "Toushiro replied, shaking his head. He abruptly opened the door and got out of the car. "So, this is it, huh?"

Ichigo followed him, quickly turning off the car. "Yeah, it's pretty nice, right?"

Toushiro climbed the short flight of stairs to the front porch letting his fingers trail along the rough wood and stared in through the wide glass doors. Ichigo threw him the keys and after taking a few seconds to figure out which key unlocked what he stepped through the threshold. Ichigo heard him take a sharp breath as he glanced around the foyer. They were met with a wide stair case, polished to perfection. To the right was the living room and the left lead to the kitchen. The large windows let in tonnes of light and high ceilings gave the rooms an airy atmosphere. He turned towards the living room, clicking his tongue when one of the floor boards creaked.

"It's pretty old," Ichigo explained, "but I was assured that everything has been refurbished, so we don't need to worry about anything falling apart on us."

Toushiro nodded and wandered over to one of the windows that looked over the patio at the back of the house and the sparse forest beyond.

"It originally belonged to the owner of an old coal mine, so I guess he went a little overboard on the blueprints. But it's nice, right? I mean it has five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a finished basement and attic."

Toushiro glanced at him for a second before turning back to the window. Ichigo's stomach sank when he saw that his lips were set in a grim line.

"I still think it's too big for just two people," he said at length.

Ichigo set his jaw and slowly lowered himself on to the couch which the movers had pushed into a corner.

"And it's too isolated."

Ichigo exhaled forcefully. "We moved here because of your job. I did the best I could for such short notice."

He saw Toushiro roll his eyes.

"Anyway, this house was an absolute steal. We may as well have gotten it for free. Having to wake up a little earlier to get to work doesn't seem so bad when you think of it."

"We'll make up the difference in buying gas."

They were both silent. Ichigo ground his teeth together and Toushiro seemed to be ensnared by the scenery. Eventually he stood up, dragging a hand through his hair – he was sure that it was more grey than ginger at this point.

"I'm going to take a look at the bedrooms."

Toushiro didn't acknowledge him when he left.

...

The wooden finish was had been what ultimately made Ichigo decide on this house. It was rustic yet extravagant; he still couldn't believe how low the asking price was. There had to be a reason of course, but Ichigo didn't care to dwell on it for too long. Everything else was perfect, they were in absolute seclusion, but their neighbours weren't too far. Most of the houses on Morrison Drive were vacation homes, but the realtor had told him that there were a few families who lived here full time. There was even a small lake that boarded the back side of the property and the surrounding forest would be amazing to hike or camp. Ichigo had been giddy with excitement, almost euphoric, when he researched the house and its surroundings.

Ichigo floated in and out of the upstairs rooms, aside from the master bedroom, he had asked the movers to leave the others bare. He would turn one into his home office, of course, and he hoped to fill the other three rooms soon. The carpeting had been removed upon his request. Thankfully, the wood underneath was in good enough condition. All they had needed to do was sand it down and polish it. He had been pretty optimistic when he saw the number of rooms, but he had always wanted a big family. And this house would serve as the perfect start to it.

Each room was rather spacious and had windows either looking to the front or back of the house. The master bedroom took up majority of left side, with its adjoining bathroom, and he was pleased to discover that he would be able to see the sunrise from the room. His best ideas always came with the rising sun. There was just something about watching the world turn from a dreary grey to rich colours that made his fingers itch to write.

One of the other rooms had a bay window – it would make a wonderful window seat for a little girl; he could read her fairy tales and put up flouncy curtains. The two other rooms opened up to the balcony at the back of the house. It was an airy setup; Ichigo could tell which walls had been broken down and where doors had been added. He had always hated closed up spaces; they made him feel like he was suffocating. He had avoided certain rooms in his San Francisco condo for that very reason.

He opened the door to the last room, and hesitated; there would be a problem with the last room. The floors were pretty dark, but off to the far corner was a dark stain. It looked as if a large amount of some liquid had been dropped and left to soak in. He stooped down and touched the edge of the stain with his index finger. Did the renovators have an accident and not tell him? He didn't remember anything about telling them to stain the floor darker; the natural colour was fine. Maybe a previous owner had wanted something different, but then quickly realised that the colour looked too similar to dried blood and changed their mind.

Ichigo hesitated and let out a breath that he didn't realise he had been holding while his stomach churned lightly. His breath condensed in front of his face and he jumped back in surprise. He stared unbelievingly; it was summer and too warm for that to happen. He shook his head; he must have been more tired than he thought. But then he noticed goose bumps on his arms and that the room was, in fact, very chilly. Frowning, he stood up and searched the wall for a thermostat. Maybe something was up with the air conditioning.

Spying the small, white box he got up, rubbing his arms. The reading said that the temperature matched the rest of the house and Ichigo's frown deepened; that wasn't right. He then placed his hands above the air vents in the floor only to find out that nothing was blowing from them. Great, he huffed, the system was definitely broken in this room. The cold metal stung his fingers, when he accidentally brushed it and he jolted again, losing his balance and stumbling backwards into the window. A frigid puff of air grazed his back and he frowned in confusion. He turned around and studied the window, paying close attention to the seal. A broken seal could possibly be the cause of the strange temperature and draft. It seemed to be intact, from what he could tell, however. How weird. The churning in his stomach intensified and he could feel his heart begin to thud heavily.

Then the door slammed shut with an echoing bang and Ichigo jumped yet again, knocking his forehead against the glass. He swore softly and heard faint chuckling sound from behind him.

"Very funny, Shiro," he said, rolling his eyes, "I could have given myself a concussion-" his words died in his throat when he realised that the door was firmly shut and no one else was in the room.

Ichigo didn't necessarily deny the existence of supernatural forces. The fact that his mind went to this conclusion first spoke volumes, however. But, he would prefer not to come into contact with any ghosts. He swallowed thickly and stumbled to the door. Maybe they shouldn't use this room for the time being. His spine tingled and he could have sworn that he felt something watching him as he left the room.

He still felt a prickly feeling along his spine when he went back down stairs. He tried to shake it off by rubbing his palms up and down his arms, but it was as if the cold had seeped into his bones.

"Cold?" Toushiro asked entering the house with a box in his arms, "We could turn the AC down; it doesn't need to be blasting as hard as it is now anyway."

Ichigo shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. Do you need help with that?"

Toushiro allowed him to take the box and went back out to the car for another. Ichigo put the box down near the staircase, hoping that Toushiro didn't want to unpack everything right away. As he was straightening up he felt a cool pair of lips brush against his cheeks. He started slightly before he realised that it was his husband.

Toushiro had jerked back with a small frown on his face and muttered a quiet apology. Ichigo forced a smile before grabbing his husband by the waist and hugging him. Toushiro sighed softly and Ichigo felt him relax into the hug.

"Sorry about earlier," Toushiro said softly, "forgot to take my... uh... my pills."

Ichigo hugged him tighter. "It's okay. So, do we have to unpack all of this right now?"

Toushiro snorted quietly and patted Ichigo's chest. "No, we can tackle it later; I'm still kind of sleepy."

Ichigo kissed his temple. "Great, I wanted to check out the town, but if you're tired we could always-"

"No, you can go ahead."

"You sure? We could also swing by the school to see what it's like."

"I don't want to think about work now. Go Ichigo; I'm just going to take a nap, don't worry."

Ichigo stooped down to peck Toushiro's nose. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

...

It took Ichigo thirty minutes to get to the small town, Rayle. A rickety welcome sign was the only real indication that he had arrived. It looked like the typical rural village with small brick and wooden buildings, churches with steeples, telephone poles, and narrow streets with cobble stone sidewalks. Ichigo grinned, as far flung as the town was it seemed very welcoming. A few towns people stopped and stared as he drove past, recognising him as a stranger. Ichigo couldn't help but feel a bit nervous; he didn't know anyone here. He drove around for a few more minutes mentally cataloguing places like the post office and a few small restaurants.

Toushiro would probably be hungry by the time he got back, but he knew that he wouldn't want to go out to eat. He was getting better, but it was still hard to persuade him to leave the house for anything other than work. Maybe picking something up from the grocery market would be the best option. He thought he had seen one but when he turned around he couldn't seem to find it. Chewing the inside of his cheek he pulled up next to a group of women who were walking towards him and called out the window, hopping that they didn't think he was some creep.

"Uh, hi, sorry to disturb you, but do you know where I can find a grocery store?"

"Sure," one of them answered brightly, "keep going down this street then make a left on Oak Avenue. It's the first building you see on your right."

Ichigo smiled. Their accents were thick, but it added to the rustic atmosphere. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

As he drove off he saw her turn to her friends and say something that caused them to follow his car with their eyes. The grocery store was just where she said it would be, but he had almost passed straight by not realising that it would be so small. The shelves turned out to be stocked with generic brands that he had never heard of, but the fresh food section was amazing. Well, that was a plus at least, he could get a lot of fresh meat and produce here – and maybe finally start that diet that he read about a few months ago.

Ichigo set down his basket to examine a few heads of broccoli.

"I wouldn't take any of those; they're a few weeks old," a friendly voice said from beside him.

"Oh," Ichigo mumbled, unsure what else to say.

"You're new here, right? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

"Yeah," he turned and held out his hand, "I'm Ichigo Kurosaki-Hitsugaya."

A young man in a bright yellow apron took his hand a shook it. "You're the ones who just moved into that house on Morrison Drive, the new school teacher?"

Ichigo blinked, but it was a small town news would travel around. "Yes, but it's my partner that's the teacher."

The clerk tilted his head. "I thought it was a man they hired."

"Oh, he is..."

There was a short pause in which Ichigo fumbled with the head of broccoli.

"You're one of them gays?"

Ichigo hesitated; the way the clerk had phrased that did not leave him with a comforting feeling. He had never hidden the fact that he was gay from anyone, but San Francisco was sure to be way more liberal than rural Wyoming. He had heard horror stories about small towns like this. "Yeah, hope that won't be a problem."

The clerk smiled. "Nah, well, for me at least. Anyway, you'd be best off with this," he handed Ichigo a different head of broccoli from a basket near his feet.

"Thanks..." he glanced to the name plate pinned to his apron, "Richard..."

"No problem... ah what's your name again."

"Ichigo."

"You're not American?"

He smothered an annoyed sigh. "I am; my Dad's from Japan though."

"Oh, we got another Asian family living on Morrison Drive too. You guys should meet up."

Ichigo nodded. He was sure Richard didn't mean to offend, but the comments still rubbed him the wrong way. He tried not to show his annoyance as he thanked the clerk once more. He could have been a lot worse from what he understood about small, isolated towns, especially if they were religious, so he knew better than to complain.

...

"Hey, Shiro, I bought some wine," Ichigo called as he entered the house, "we should celebrate the move." There was no response. "Shiro?"

He was probably still sleeping, so Ichigo put the groceries in the kitchen and circled through the dining room and back out to the living room. Toushiro had brought out a few more boxes from the car and set them near the couch, but Ichigo stopped short when he saw that one of the boxes was ripped open and the contents strewn all over the floor. He sighed as he bent over to clear up the items. Had an animal gotten in or something? The door had been unlocked when he came back –

Something crunched under his foot and he glanced downward to see a few shards of glass strewn about. And, of course, he wouldn't remember where he had packed the cleaning supplies. Rolling his eyes he stepped away from the glass only to see a broken picture frame and a photograph lying face down. He picked up the picture and dusted it off with his sleeve before flipping it over. It was then that he knew that an animal hadn't got in. He tucked the photograph into his back pocket before turning to the rest of the mess.

A patchwork blanket was strewn over the couch, several toy trucks were scattered about the floor, a few pairs of tiny pants and shirts lay half folded near the box, and a little slip-on sneaker lay on its side – Ichigo spied its twin on the opposite side of the living room. He clenched his palms and felt a pang in his chest and his throat constricted a bit, but above all that he felt frustration. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths to make sure that he voice wouldn't tremble.

"Toushiro!" he yelled, then waited a few minutes. He heard light footsteps descend the stairs and his husband entered the living room.

"Oh, you're back I didn't hear-" he froze mid sentence, teal-blue eyes widening as they went from the open box at Ichigo's feet to the baby things strewn over the room. "Ichigo, what the hell did you do?"

"What did I do? I came home to this mess. What did you do while I was gone?"

Toushiro wrapped his arms around his stomach. "I thought we were leaving this stuff behind. How did it get here?" his voice trembled.

"Shiro-"

"You brought it? After I explicitly told you not to?"

"Toushiro-"

"No, Ichigo, no. I can't..." he backed out of the living room.

"Okay, I get why you're mad, but did you really have to throw stuff around?"

Toushiro blinked, "I didn't do this."

"Then who the hell did?"

Toushiro covered his eyes with a hand and took a few unsteady breaths. "I told you to get rid of this stuff." He turned and left the room. "Clean this up; I can't look at any of it."

Ichigo growled softly. "You know, we have to talk about this sooner or later; you can't keep on avoiding the subject!"

He clenched his fists when he received no response. He wouldn't deny that things had been difficult lately, but he was honestly trying his best to make things better. He had pushed and encouraged Toushiro through it all; progress had been slow but he had never once given up. But now, he felt like there wasn't anything else he could do. He shuffled to the couch, pulled out the photograph from his pocket, and ran his fingers over the image. A lone tear rolled down his cheek and he brushed it away before it could signal others to follow.

Annnd cue tragic back stories...

Just wanna say that this will be M rated, but not explicit.

Also moved from the typical Japanese setting, because I wanted to do something a bit more culturally diverse, and experiment with characters of different races and all the lovely learning opportunities and not so lovely prejudices that go along with it.

So, I hope you guys enjoy it thus far and please tell me what you think. Any feedback is welcome.

-Mymomomo