Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe


Some Five Weeks Later...

Here... where is here? Here is here. We are here... Who are we? We are we. Where are we? We are here... here... where we are...

This place... this dream place. It isn't of this world. When we are here, we are united together. When we are here, we are alone and together all at the same time. Omnipresence is both possible and impossible here. Logic and lack of logic make perfect sense here. This is a place where sense is nonexistent...

When we come here we are not who we are. We are different, but we are the same. We embrace each other, and embrace ourselves. And when we touch each other, we feel emotions beyond what we would feel in that "other world"...

This is our place, and these are our thoughts. And this is our testament to the love that we share. We do not know how long this place has existed, nor do we care. We come here, and never leave this place. We simply go to sleep for a while. And when we are here we sleep in the "other world". And this place is for us alone...

Here we can act. Here we can express our deepest desires. Here we can express what we are, and put to words what could not be said in the "other world". Here, we can bare our souls for what they truly are. Here, we "are"...

We love this place. We love each other. We love ourselves...

"I love you... Tatsuki..."

"I love you too... Ichigo..."


She was a goddess. Here in this dreamworld that existed solely in their minds, she was truly a goddess. Ichigo smiled to himself, heat surging through his body with each stroke. It was nice here. His skin tingled with electricity. Tatsuki's eyes were closed. She was enjoying the moment. In their physical unity they were no longer Ichigo and Tatsuki. To put it simply, they were "Ichigo and Tatsuki".

"It still shocks me a little..."

"What does...?"

She touched his chest gently, tightening her grip around his waist, her free hand tracing a line along a massive scar in his abdomen. "This place is so different," she murmured quietly, shuddering slightly from the effects of climax. One of her feathers floated down across Ichigo's face. He eyed her magnificent white wings, hand cupped around her breast, "Do you want to go back?" She giggled, nibbling his neck, "Well, the real world is nice too..."

He tilted his head to allow her a kiss, chuckling, "But you like the time we spend here too... right...?" She waited for him to finish his climax, "Did you figure that out from the other conversations we've had?" When he answered her with another mysterious laugh, she squeezed his buttock tightly, "If we know what we're thinking in this world, why bother talking?" The previous times she'd asked him this question, he'd failed to answer her. She figured this time would be the same.

But surprisingly, "Well... it would get boring... don't you think?" She closed her eyes and grinned, "I think I'm getting better at this..."


"HAAAAAAAAH!" Their cries tore the silence of the house.

Ichigo fell forward and gasped for air, sweat dripping down his chin and onto Tatsuki's glistening breast. She shuddered, the fabric she gripped at below her tearing audibly in her hands. Hot tears oozed out of her eyes and meshed with sweat and saliva. There was a sticky warmth between her legs, both watery and dewy.

Tatsuki gulped, snaking her hands along Ichigo's sweaty back. The hearth of his chest rumbled deeply. He growled seductively, sniffing up the hormonal fumes from her neck. Her legs, which were tightly wrapped around his waist, relaxed and fell to the floor, straightening themselves and cushioning his body.

"How was it...?" she whispered, rotating her waist as if to carry on the stimulation just a little longer. Outside the moon was full. Staring at it evoked a primal aversion in her persona. She reveled in this feeling, using it to catapult her to a new height.

She felt his palm rest against her cheek. She resisted the matching lip that attempted to squeeze between her own, giggling at Ichigo's groan. As if to get back at her, he bit her tongue in its sensitive spot, squeezing her breast again and delighting in her volatile reaction. Very slowly, she felt herself drift closer to sleep. The sandman was probably watching... Let him watch, she thought to herself, grinning.


Yuzu Kurosaki lay on an empty bed. It was empty, because it was not her bed. She did not fit this bed. Therefore, it was empty, because its intended occupant was not in it. She felt her chest throb, and her head split open further. But this pain was not new to her. For some reason it made her feel good... When it surged through her body she felt real, a feeling she had never felt before. As her heart began racing, she buried her face in Ichigo's linens. It had been a while since he had last replaced them. For some reason, she didn't want to do it herself. The very thought of cleansing them suddenly seemed wrong.

Instead, she just wanted to stay like this. Here was where he'd lain his head, and here was where he neck rested. She could identify each part of his bed based on how it smelled. She covered herself in his blankets, her legs trembling for some inexplicable reason as she enveloped herself in his musk. It tingled...

Gradually, and inevitably, she lost her sense of "self". No... she had to stay awake... If Ichigo came home to find her in his bed he would be angry. She didn't like to make Ichigo angry. She liked to make Ichigo smile. Because when Ichigo smiled, she smiled. Yes, Ichigo was better smiling. Ichigo shouldn't frown. When Ichigo frowned, she frowned. She didn't like to frown. Frowning didn't feel good. A person frowned because they were sad. So Ichigo couldn't get angry. Ichigo had to smile. Smile Ichigo... please...

"Smile... Please, Ichigo... I want you to... smile... Smile... because I... I..."