Title: My Vietnam

Summary: AU Letters are the only thing you have to connect yourself to the outside world, the alternate universe to Viet Nam. And they wanted to bring home to them. IchiRuki

Shalan's Say: XDDD I KNOW ANOTHER STORY! OMG OMG OMG OMG! I hope you guys like this one… and I hope you like blood… gore… and sex… all in one… YAY! THROW A PARTY!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach… but I do own… my beta… she's my pet and I keep her on a leash… and Byakuya is on the same leash… you do not want to know where that leads… XD punny

WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE! This is your first and last warning… this story will be filled with gore and plenty of language… please if you don't like bad language then don't read this story…

Chapter: Viet Nam Rain

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"It smells like rotten fish…" He complained. The man next to him grumbled in his sleep.

"Close your legs then…" The other replied.

"I'M NOT A DAME!" Uryu hit his partner upside the head with his rucksack.

"FUCK!" Ichigo sat up. "You know how fuckin' heavy that is?" Ichigo punched his best friend. A pair of hands knocked their heads together so hard they saw stars.

"Shut the fuckin' hell up…" The leader of their division stood over them. Byakuya Kuchiki stood above the two lieutenants with a deadly glare. "You wanna fuckin' give us away…"

"Yeah… shut up damn it…" Ichigo cursed and rolled back over. Ichigo Kurosaki was a tall, broad shouldered infantryman with powerful muscles that the other men in the squad swore that he could crush bone. His bright orange hair was buzzed down near the scalp normally but had now grown out to spike in several directions off his skull. His body was deeply bush tanned, looking as damn near black as was possible. His hands were broad and powerful, rough and calloused like leather. But it was his eyes that set him apart. His eyes were not those of a killer, instead they were soft and kind, a gentle amber like rolling wheat in the summertime.

"Fine…" The other grouched and threw himself back down. Uryu Ishida was thinner than his best friend but was none the less powerful. His skin was slightly lighter than Ichigo's as he tended to stay in the shade more often. His brilliant blue eyes were set into his head beneath black hair which was buzz cut the same as his best friend's. His fingers were long and mighty, dirt was embedded beneath his nails, all the muck and grime from Viet Nam.

The next morning Ichigo grumbled something about damn leeches as he burnt one off his arm with a cigarette before putting it in his mouth. "What?" Uryu asked after another sleepless night. Ichigo looked over at him.

"Fuckin' leeches… keep gettin' on me…" Ichigo growled through the cigarette. "Gotta hump back to base today… fuckin' Charlie…" he cursed and stood up, his combat boots sinking into the muck that he had been sleeping in.

"You are just in a terrible mood today aren't you Striker…" A man stood up, dusting himself off. He was a German by birth but an American by nature. Kisuke Urahara or Kurz as he was called stood nearby, a cigarette in his fingers as he stood. He was tall and blonde with pristine blue eyes. Hitler would have loved him.

"Shut it Kurz, we're not gonna make it fuckin' back in time for chow anyways…" Ichigo grumbled and heaved his rucksack onto his back. "And I wanted some hot food…" He grouched again.

"Boy you oughta be spanked…" A good natured chuckle came from a little ways away. Sitting on his rucksack was a bight eyed red head with a cigarette in his hand as well.

"Ya'll're fuckin' chimneys…" Uryu frowned at them all. The red head grinned over at him.

"Fuck that ma' if I'm gonna die out here I'm gonna get all the fuckin' enjoyment I can…" Renji Abarai, Red as he was called, pointed out.

"Alright enough of a break… get up and let's go…" Byakuya shouted at them.

"Aye, aye sir!" Uryu quipped as several other members pulled their rucksacks on.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth Ishida…" Byakuya scolded. Uryu made a face and mocked him behind his back while Ichigo chuckled.

"Alright… let's march…" Kiske sing-sang as he fell into line. Ichigo stomped out his cigarette with indignation and walked off after the others, falling into step.

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By the time they got back to base, late for chow as Ichigo had predicted, Uryu nearly lept with joy. He was just waiting to see if his girl back in the States had sent him a letter. "Hey Coop!" He swung into the post room later that evening after all of the men had been given a few days off to recooperate. He had taken a shower and cleaned up, putting on the cleanest fatigues he could find before entering the post.

"Yo! Lieu-Uryu…" The post master grinned. "Sorry…" Uryu shook his head. "I ain't got no mail for you son… sorry…" Uryu sighed and turned around, walking out into the compound. He felt the hot wind settle in for a rain storm and he looked up. Damn leeches would multiply now. He felt in his shirt and pulled out an old picture from two years before. It was a picture of his girlfriend back in the States. She was beautiful and 17 in the picture. Now she was beautiful and going on 20. She was sitting on the grass, her shining red hair cascading over her shoulder, her hands behind her, supporting her body. He smiled lightly and sighed. She hadn't written in nearly a year… and he was losing hope. Maybe she had found another man…

"A picture may last longer but why stare at that when you can look at the real thing?" He heard a voice from behind him. His heart stopped, there was no way. As the rain began he turned around to see her standing there, beautiful red hair cascading around her shoulders.

"Ka-Kazumi?" He choked out just before their lips met. His arms were so tight around her waist that she could have sworn that he was trying to mold her body into his. It wasn't awkward, after two years of not seeing each other it was the same, they could act as if they had just seen each other the day before. Her lips tasted so good. He gripped the sides of her head as water rushed around their ankles in the Viet Nam rain.

"Your hands are so rough…" She gripped his hand in hers, pressing the warm flesh to her cheek. She hadn't touched him in two years, she hadn't seen him or smelt him or tasted him. "They were soft the last time I saw you…" Her icy blue eyes were soft, water dripping down her face… or were those tears?

"I know…" He picked her up and carried her up into his hooch. She pulled him up close to her and buried her nose deep into his neck and shoulder. She breathed in a familiar scent as well as one that she didn't know. It was the scent of blood and muck, of dirt and carnage… the scent of Viet Nam. But beneath that was the homely scent that she associated with him body, the taste she knew was his. Her mouth sucked lightly at his neck, her hands gripping his fatigue shirt. His fingers dragged through her wet hair, before he ducked his head to meet her lips. He had to taste her again, he forced his tongue into her mouth, desperately trying to keep what he believed was a dream, a reality.

"Uryu…" Her voice sounded muffled. He looked down and she was still there in his arms. Her big blue eyes looked up at him. "Slow down… we have all the time in the world…" her soft hands cradled his face.

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Ichigo stared out over the compound, a cigarette the only light around him. The dim light from the burning tobacco lit his eyes slightly, giving them a dark and mysterious look as he watched the rain fall. But of course, this wasn't any old rain. It was Viet Nam rain and it held a special quality about it.

Viet Nam rain had a special scent. It smelled light flowers, freshly cut grass and everything that is associated with a summer rain… but it also smelled light the red clay that covered their fatigues and boots, it smelled like blood. Fresh hot wet blood glistening on the bodies of dead men, be they Viet Cong or US soldiers. Blood.

The rain even took on a special color, because when it would hit the ground and turn the red clay to mud… the mud ran red… like blood. He flicked his cigarette into the water and lit another, it calmed him, like a tranquilizer it made him believe that he wasn't in a war zone where he could die at any second… it made him believe that this rain was cleansing instead of putrid.

The rain in Viet Nam wasn't peaceful or calming like the rain in the States… no… it was like a rushing river of anger. It fell with a vengeance as if you poison the earth and rid itself of the creatures below it. It was a waterfall that tumbled from the sky with a point, with a target, with a rigid ferocity that no one wanted to mess with. It was the god of the land, it decided what stayed and what went. It was the king of Viet Nam.

"You look so thoughtful… that's not my Ichigo I remember…" he heard a soft voice from beside him. A petite brunette wearing a pristine set of nurse's fatigues stood next to him. His eyes couldn't believe what they were transmitting to his brain and his brain didn't believe it either…

"Rukia…" He choked out, dry mouthed. He flicked the cigarette into the rushing water and swung the woman into his arms, swinging her in a circle before pulling her back in and kissing her so hard she thought her head would spin. He wanted to kiss her so hard she would become a part of him.

He wanted to crush her body to his and hold her there until neither were breathing. He wanted to push her away and stare at her. He wanted to love her until he was sick. He wanted to hate her until the end of time. He wanted her to burst into flame like a beautiful phoenix. He wanted her to be his burning passion. He wanted to be her burning passion. He was so in love with her that he couldn't speak, much less think. All he could do was kiss her, so hard that she thought her head would spin.

He wanted to drag his fingers through her hair. He wanted to pull on her hair until he was satisfied. He wanted to die for her. He wanted to live for her too. He wanted every single heartbeat he had in this life to be hers… and his.

"How did you get here?" He searched her eyes but wouldn't let her answer. He just kissed her again. He had never kissed her like that before. He had always been timid and let her lead their kiss. Now he was possessive and demanding. He wanted her, and he wanted everything about her. He wanted to ingrain her scent, her taste, her feel, her everything into his head. He wanted to make her his. He wanted… that was it. He just wanted.

She was breathless, flushed, excited. He had never excited her before, not like this. He had never lit a fire that started between her thighs and made its burning path through her insides to her heart, closing it down. She wanted his hands, frenzied and rough, on her body. She wanted him. She had never experienced the same want before. She had wanted things in the past. But the want to feel him inside of her, to feel his naked body, to feel his life was so much more powerful than any want she had ever had.

Her hands were desperate, holding him just as close to her as he was holding her to him. She wanted his body, his mind, his soul. She wanted to hold him, to touch him, to kiss him until the pain of this war was gone. She wanted to do things she had never thought possible. She wanted to love him until it became pain on the threshold of pleasure instead of pleasure on the threshold of pain.

Neither breathed. Neither moved, neither wanted to move. They just stood there, in the Viet Nam rain.

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You all will understand what the girls are doing there and what their histories are here soon… in the second chapter so until then have fun guessing… read and review please.

Shalan