Title: Plucked
Rating: Probably... PG-13?
Pairing: Ichigo x Toshiro, Past Kusaka x Toshiro
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo thought of Bleach before I could... -Sigh- Bummer.
Warnings: Mild language and kissing. Boy x Boy intimacy. Spoilers, set sometime after the second movie.
Summary: Ichigo encounters Toshiro on one of the captain's rare days off, though it's not where he expects it, or the events that follow.

AN: A short Ficlette I thought up. Just playing around. Inspired by listening to the koto piece Tegoto by Michio Miyagi. Youtube it. XD

Was he gone? Peeking around the corner from where he hid in an enclosed alleyway, Ichigo made sure the coast was clear before he deemed it safe to tip-toe out into the open. The streets were deserted either way he looked, with the exception of a random passerby here or there, which caused him to hunch over and sigh in relief, knowing he'd escaped death and pain for now. Kenpachi was relentless when he was hunting someone(or rather Ichigo) down for a sparing(death) match, and there was no talking him out of it when it was apparent that he would lose again and again, so he did the next best thing: run and hide. It was foolproof considering both captain and vice captain were terrible at deciphering reiatsu signatures, even with his constant and massive outflow.

Now, to iron out his second problem; figuring out where the hell he managed to end up. He doesn't really traipse around Rukongai every time he was visiting Soul Society, he only knew his way to the Shiba residence, but judging by the nice streets and houses, he was in one of the lower districts, which meant the Seireitei wasn't too far away. He temporarily jumped onto the nearest roof to get a sense of direction, searching out either the gate or the giant that protected it, then fell to the ground once he decided on a path. He wasn't in a rush, it will be quite some time before the heads of eleventh squad would give up their search, so he chose to look at his surroundings and stash away any visible landmarks in case he got himself lost.

Several places sold sweets and snacks, others offered clothes and assorted fabric, toys for kids and instruments, and Ichigo found himself looking at every store, in awe of some of the really nice things that were up for sale. He couldn't buy anything yet, because despite being a substitute, it didn't entitle him to any sort of salary he could spend in the afterlife. Even though the captain commander said he would appoint him to the position of a captain when he did croak, and all the amenities offered with that title, right now he couldn't even earn a penny's worth. Renji and Rukia were always giving him money if they ever went out, but he didn't feel bad about that considering he would do the same for them in the world of the living. They had gone out drinking just the night before, even though Ichigo kept insisting that he was underage, but he had a little bit of money leftover from it, enough to buy a snack. Curious as to how food tasted in the spirit world, he bought a couple of sticks of grilled squid. After taking a couple bites, he determined that it was good, but he really couldn't tell a difference of squid from either world.

Still, despite the simplicity of the soul society, Ichigo would miss the living world when he died. He wouldn't be able to go to the mall with his friends, spend the summer watching fireworks, or beat up his father at all hours of the day. He would be lucky if he were alive enough to go to the university after the winter war with Aizen, or the ability to make some sort of meaning out of his life. While the girls helped run the clinic, Ichigo wanted to do more than that. He knew he was not good in the medical department, but other than fighting, there wasn't really much else he was good at.

Life instantly drained from his body, sagging his shoulders and halting his footsteps as a frown marred his once-smiling face. A beautiful melody drifted into the air, coaxing him into relaxing, and letting his guard down long enough to let distant memories flood into the forefront of his mind. No. No, he didn't want to think about these. But even as he pleaded with his subconscious to store those images back into the black depths of his mind, he was refuted, and they all tried to crowd his vision at once. It hurt his head, made him dizzy, and it was all he could do to stay standing as each scene scratched at the scabbed wounds of his heart, the wounds that had only recently just started healing. His mother, walking home with him from karate class. His mother, and their family in the park. His mother, playing the koto for him in the living room, the same instrument that was now lazily drifting through the air, into hies ears, rattling around in his scull like the haunting scream she gave when she died protecting her child. Protecting him.

Ichigo shook those memories away, fighting tooth and nail for his sanity, gathering enough strength to lock the memories away again. He leaned against a nearby wall and tried to slow his heartbeat, taking in deep breaths and trying to relax his body in order to regulate his blood flow. Just listening to that music was bad enough, but it had to be a piece that was stuck in his mind as a trigger, since it was a piece his mother played often and very well. It was so close to sounding like his mother, but he knew that it couldn't be. His mother was dea-

Brown irides widened in shock as their owner realized just where he was. Had it been possible for his mother to somehow end up here in soul society, even though her soul had been devoured by a hollow? It was a completely impossible notion to even consider, but there had been stranger things that happened to him. He was determined, now, to find out just who was playing that koto. He didn't want to give his hopes up in being able to see her again, but even now, his chest filled to the brim with the emotion. If not his mother, then maybe someone who was acquainted with her. Or maybe just someone who was skilled with the koto, he didn't know, but now he stood at full height. There was nothing that was going to stop him from finding out the identity of this mysterious musician.

Speaking of, the music, which had been paused during his inner struggling, started up again. The substitute closed his eyes and let the music drift into his ears for a few moments before he was able to ascertain the direction is was coming from. He walked ahead, trying to keep his footfalls as quiet as possible so as not to disrupt the volume of the music. It was a little more clear, and volume a little higher, he felt confident in opening his eyes and taking a look around. On both the left and right sides of the road were well-built house, some fenced in, some with trees and bushes, everything was in order, neat, and almost perfectly aligned into straight rows.

The music urged him forward again, until he came to an area where the houses were separated a little more, and the ground was a little grassy. The plucking of strings led him to a house on his left, the surrounding property fenced except for an open doorway. Interested, Ichigo peeked into the doorway. Stones made a path up to the porch, which, if he peered around to either side, seemed to wrap around the circumference of the house. It was a simple house, it looked large enough to have only three or four rooms, but there was no mistaking the music that was coming from within. This was the place, and he strode up to the entryway, the doors already open to reveal an empty room.

He frowned again. The only decoration in the room were a few scrolls on the wall, and another set of door on the opposite side of the room, also open wide to let any meandering visitor entrance. Ichigo took that as an invitation and wandered into the next room. There were several folded beds laying to the side of the room, and he figured this was the bedroom, again with no one inside. Turning in a circle, there were a set of doors to his left. Yep. They were wide open, showing the outside fence, and the porch that continued its way past the room he was in. He took that path, leaving the bedroom behind. Like he thought, the rooms were spacious, but there weren't many, as he reach the last room of the house, also empty except for the decoration on the wall. Letting out a soft hum in wondering just why there was a bunch of empty rooms here and what they were for, and where the hell they put the bathroom, Ichigo continued down the outside walkway until it reached the back of the house, where his target sat playing the koto for a couple other people.

Ichigo stood there, paralyzed to the spot as the sight before him shocked the ever-living lights out of him. There was the koto, beautifully presented on a stand, and who should be sitting in a chair next to it and playing it than one captain of the tenth division of the thirteen court guard squads. Hitsugaya Toshiro was in a plain, dark blue yukata, strumming away like a professional genius in a concert hall. There were two other people in chairs on the other side of the koto, but they seemed to only be listening, one of them an old lady, and the other a girl he barely recognized as the lieutenant of the fifth squad, both having giant smiles on their faces and sipping tea.

It was a beautiful scene, one he didn't have the heart to interrupt, so he stayed by the corner, listening and completely astonished as the tune came out so effortlessly, and so flawlessly. Again, memories popped up, of him dancing around the living room as his mother played a heart-lifting melody. He remembered when his mother first placed his fingers on those strings, teaching him how to play, and him having somewhat of a natural knack for it. He remembered after his mother died, he wouldn't go near it, but he had a small collection of CD's featuring that very instrument. Well, Tatsuki had to hogtie him and drag him to a koto concert, then he started collecting those CD's. He still wouldn't touch that koto, and he doubted he ever would, but it looked like that might change.

Clapping and laughing brought him out of his head, again, and he saw Toshiro stand and bow to his small audience, finished with his performance, and stoically enduring the ladies' praise.

"Shiro-chan, your skills are so amazing every time I hear, even if you go months without playing it!"

"Don't call me Shiro-chan."

"But she's right, every time you come out here I'm treated to your wonderful ear for music."

"That's because you are always demanding I play, Granny."

"Who wouldn't? You're great! Oh, shoot! The tea is all gone!"

"Let's go get more. Toshiro, please set up another song to play for all of us."

The girls left, leaving Toshiro to stand there and sigh, one hand resting on his hip, the other pinching the bridge of his nose. "You might as well come out from around the corner, Kurosaki. We already know you're here." Then he lifted his head and looked right at him. "You didn't think you were being stealthy, did you, with that amount of spiritual energy leaking out of you?"

For a moment, Ichigo couldn't move, much less answer his question, and it was only for a few seconds even though it seemed almost an hour before he was able to muster an answer. "I didn't want to ruin your performance by saying anything." He forced himself to walk toward the shorter shinigami, though his stroll was less than graceful, and stopped himself just in front of the beautiful and well-cared-for instrument. The wood was polished and a healthy, light shady, the strings glinted in the sunlight, and Ichigo wanted nothing more than to run his hands over them, listening to the beautiful sound it would vibrate after plucking one.

He restrained himself, though, and made every effort to ignore pretty thing, instead keeping his attention focused on Toshiro as the man sat back down in his chair. Teal eyes regarded him with slight annoyance as he addressed him about his rather sudden visit with a laid back posture. Legs and arms were crossed, and despite his slouch, Ichigo couldn't help but think Toshiro looked like he was ready to make a business deal.

"So? What do you need?"

"Need?" Ichigo tilted his head at the perplexing question. "What do you mean?"

Toshiro let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to calm his boiling blood at the idiot's perplexed look. "What is the reason you came over to my house? Did you need something?"

Understanding widened his eyes, and it took a great deal of effort not to blush. He couldn't tell the frosty captain about his mother, he still had trouble telling Rukia or his family when he was thinking about her, so what else could he even say? "I was just walking by and heard you play. So I came to see who it was. All the doors were open so I let myself in. I hope you don't mind." That seemed okay to say. Now to turn the subject off him and onto the other. "I never knew you played the koto. That was really impressive."

Toshiro shrugged, a small lift of his left shoulder. "Gran taught me. It's pretty simple. But she's always demanding me to play for her when I visit, so I buy music in the real world whenever I can."

He couldn't help himself. He had to ask. "What era is she from?"

"I was here for a hundred and seventy years before Toshiro showed up here." Both men turned to look at Momo and 'Gran' as they came back outside. "He just fell onto the street one day, up and out of the blue like most people do when they are first sent here, and so I took him home. Not long after him came Momo-chan."

Ichigo bowed respectfully in greeting to them as they presented him with a cup of tea. Momo beckoned him to sit next to her while the old woman sat on her other side, neither of them perturbed by Ichigo's sudden appearance. They both seemed to welcome him with open arms into their home, and something told him that most of the people in this area would probably do the same.

As soon as Toshiro started tuning the koto once more, all conversations fell silent, waiting and the only noise came from the wind as it rustled through the greenery. And when the chords were struck in perfect harmony, Ichigo was taken back to those beautiful days again, when it was him and his mother, dancing and playing together, not caring if there was anyone watching, or if the house was completely empty. The song progressed, and his memories move further along, going back as early as he could remember listening to her skill. He remembered falling asleep to soft ballads, jumping up and down to the more fast-paced melodies and sometimes helping her out by plucking random strings, though it didn't sound anything compared to what she put together.

He opened his eyes, and gasped at at the sight of Toshiro leaning over him with a raised eyebrow. It was pitch black outside, with the exception of a few lighted windows nearby. Momo and their grandmother were nowhere to be seen, just him and the Tenth Division captain and the koto that had, without meaning to, drifted him off to sleep. But if that were the case, hen why didn't anyone wake him up? He really felt embarrassed right now...

"Are you comfy down there?" Thin lips quirked upward as Ichigo blushed and started waving his hands about, raising himself up from the same spot he'd been in when he arrived.

"I... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that, I swear! Your playing is really good! I hope you aren't insulted!"

Toshiro rolled his eyes and put a firm hand on Ichigo's shoulder. "It's fine. Stop worrying about it. Moreover, get some more sleep. It's late."

Ichigo chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think the memories will let me." Toshiro sat beside him, not looking at him, but speaking in a hushed voice, as if this new topic was as delicate as an intricately sculpted glass figurine.

"Memories?"

He had hoped that this wouldn't be brought up, like he feared it would when he first heard this music... But with that question, the monster of his happy past reared it's ugly head, and now he knew he was trapped. Toshiro wouldn't back down, and Ichigo was too overcome with emotion to deny him that knowledge. Besides, it wasn't fair. Kusaka had made himself known to everyone, something that obviously was hard on the man next to him. Ichigo helped him through it, but now it was Ichigo's turn to trust Toshiro to help him through his insecurities and inner demons.

Sighing, he laid back down, cradling his head with folded arms as brown eyes looked up at the stars, hoping to find a distraction in their random patterns. There was no such pleasure to be found. They were still grounded to the spiritual earth, with nothing but awkward silences and the seriousness of the approaching conversation. "Your music. It dragged me by the ears to your house... because of my mother." Silence was still, a cricket orchestra invading the grassy backyard, and Ichigo had a brief delusion of dead crickets with halos around their antennae.

"She used to play?" His nod confirmed the hesitant question. "And she taught you to play?"

His eyes closed again as the answer came to him and was surprisingly easy to say. "A little. I was nothing compared to her, considering I was so little, but every time she played, the entire house came to feel her emotions. It was a very intense atmosphere whenever she performed."

"And you felt this same 'atmosphere' with mine." Ichigo shrugged the best he could with his arms trapped behind his head. "I see... So that's what you meant."

That soft tone made brown eyes open and look at Toshiro, who was sitting to his side, looking down at the floorboards in deep thought, a look that felt... depressing. Ichigo frowned and sat up, studying Toshiro's face to try and determine what he was thinking about. It was a very blank look, which meant he had to be really out of it, and the orange-top could only imagine what he might have said to put him there. He had meant that statement as a compliment, because whether Toshiro liked it or not, he was good. Despite what the "frosty" captain might try and deny, there was emotion in his playing. And Ichigo wasn't the only one who could hear it.

Unsure of what to do, he stayed next to him, watching him until he is able to pull himself out of his own head. Toshiro had always been a mystery until he was able to see his past memories of Kusaka, now he felt he could relate to him a little more. Neither of them had a chance to talk after the incident, but it was definitely time to do so. Tonight was the perfect night to confess to Toshiro just how much of he and Kusaka he had witnessed.

At first, it was just general feelings, about the death fight they were forced through, their training, school... And then it turned into more personal stuff, like how they went off to be alone somewhere, to touch each other, kiss, and eventually lead to... other things that he felt he had no reason to intrude upon. He didn't know why they were in his head, ringing in his skull like a church bell, though the more he thought maybe, through some unrealized subconscious desire, it might mean that he wanted Toshiro the same way, the more he couldn't deny it. He wanted Toshiro in the same way.

"Ichigo."

Surprised to hear his first name and not his family name, Ichigo looked up into Toshiro's eyes, which were now focused on him. They still held a bit of indescribable emotion, visible to see, but impossible to read. And in that instant, his eyes widened as e came to realize something he should have realized a long time ago. Was Toshiro able to his past, as well? When their Zanpakuto resonated, was it possible that his memories also became visible to the boy next to him? If that was the case, then...

"You lured me here, didn't you? You already knew about my mother..." The nod he received fueled him to question the captain further. "You know about her ability with the koto, and so it gave you the confidence to call me out here. But... Toshiro, why?"

Before he could brace himself, Toshiro launched his small frame into Ichigo's body, but the collision had enough force to drive the both of them onto the redhead's back. Ichigo was too stunned to really do or say anything, just stare at the beautiful teal eyes so very close to his face. His robes, different from his Shinigami robes since he was no where near his division, had fallen off a shoulder and spread wide at the bottom to allow his legs to hug Ichigo's waist, the only thing keeping it from falling completely open was the loose sash at his hips. Pale hands gently squeezed his shoulders, and the only thing keeping Ichigo up were shaky elbows as Toshiro leaned in further to confess the reason for his dirty tricks.

"I saw more... than just your mother's death, Kurosaki. I saw everything."

As their lips touched, everything dawned on him, reality squishing all doubts int the ground. Those soft lips were so firm against his own, and his heartbeat fluttered into his throat, unable to let him speak as this perfect moment was fulfilled by two starved and lonely souls, souls that had a recent collision to link them together, possibly forever. When they parted, he was still unable to speak, letting Toshiro to blow away the cloudy fog of lust for only a moment.

"Stay here, tonight."

Ichigo could only nod before he rolled them over, off the wooden porch, and onto the cool, soft grass. Somewhere behind him, he could hear strings resonate in an odd combination as the koto was knocked down, but right now he didn't care. This man had captivated him, entrapped him. He thought he would never again be able to even touch the koto ever again in his life, only look at it with foggy memories drifting around him in a storm of sadness. But he didn't feel like that when Toshiro played. Not anymore. As the night grew hotter, so did their passion, until they were left laying in exhaustion, naked skin kissed by morning dew and sweat, entangled with each other and unwilling to let go.

Another reason to stop the rain inside his head, Ichigo thought. He smiled, entering the empty clinic. He couldn't help it. He felt a little... giddy. And upon notice the hatch in the ceiling that lead to the attic, he knew why. He hadn't been able to hear Toshiro play the koto again before he had to leave, but that was okay. He could busy himself until he see him again.

He pulled the cord and stairs down and ascended to the dusty storage space. It was a large attic, and covered the entire span of the clinic/house, so he didn't have to bend over much. He knew where it was, and walked over to it without any hesitation. There it was, sitting perfectly still and covered with a cloth to protect it from dust. Or at least, that's what its job was supposed to be. But as he lifted it, a cloud of dust accompanied the movement, no matter how gently he tried to uncover it. It was still dusty.

There, amidst the floating particles illuminated by a window, was his mother's koto. It was exactly how he remembered, even the custom paintings on the sides, cherry blossoms branching across the instrument. Happy memories flooded him again, of his mother, of her music, of Toshiro's music, and of Toshiro himself, together with Ichigo, the scenes of last night replaying in his head. He couldn't help himself. He had to do it. The urge was too great to ignore, so he reached out with his left hand, caressing the old strings.

Then, he plucked them, the same odd notes from last night. He couldn't stop the grin, or his fingers.

Owari.

AN: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! XD Thank you for reading this. Please tell me what you think! -Bows-