To Be By Your Side

by H'ekwos

There is always a price to be paid for power. As Toshiro grows stronger, his past threatens to destroy him and powerful enemies are drawing closer. Toshiro saved him from hell and madness, now he must count on Ichigo to do the same for him before it is too late. This story can be read alone, but is also sequel to Love Calls You By Your Name MATURE, yaoi, M/M

3. Chapter 3

A/N - Thanks Fenix Fuego for the new review! Hope you continue to enjoy the story.

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The man I had chosen to be my strength had crumbled and disappeared in my hands. I finally saw him behind those misery-soaked eyes, but for hours I had lived in terror of never seeing him again. Where had he gone? What enemy had tried to take him from me? And all I could do was comfort him. There was no one I could kill, nothing I could destroy to save him.

'Stay with him. Do not let him wake alone.'

Stupid overgrown lizard. Just point to an enemy!

And when he finally woke, that howl of soul-crushing anguish had torn out my heart. I had heard that sound before, not as loud, not as long, but every bit as painful. Had he gone through this back then, when I cruelly severed his power after Hyorinmaru had been taken from him? And I had left him to face it alone.

'He will survive. Do not let him wake alone.'

When would I stop hurting him?

I pulled him into my arms, turning to let him rest on top of me. I didn't want him to read these thoughts in my eyes. My head turned. The blizzard had died down. Large, lazy flakes appeared, spun and vanished, drifting through the darkness like ash in the wake of a great fire, deceptively beautiful heralds of destruction. I found them soothing, and let my eyes drift with various puffs of white on their wandering journeys.

As time passed my questions and fears subsided. It only mattered that I was here, he was here, and all else was just a distraction. Even the worst we faced would only be turned into a hurdle to overcome or an opportunity to be seized. There was nothing in or under Heaven that we could not conquer together. By the time he was awake enough to kiss my chest and move his hand up to my shoulder, I had regained peace and could face him without doubts. I smiled down at him.

"Did you see?" I turned my head back toward the window as my hands rubbed his back.

"Mmm. It's lovely."

"Odd, there was no snow forecast."

"Everyone knows not to trust weather predictions, Ichigo."

I chuckled. "I remember my obligation, I have to carry you to the shower. Or should I carry you out there and let the snowflakes clean you?"

"The neighbors would be scandalized."

"Better settle for the shower then," I said as I scooted us to the edge of the bed without letting go.

I felt his silent laughter at the strange movements, and I wrapped my arms around him as I stood. His legs firmly hugged my waist. I would never get tired of that. He kissed my shoulder and licked at my neck as I walked. While I waited for the water to warm he nibbled on my earlobe and then suckled on the skin behind my ear.

"Toshiro, if you keep that up . . ."

He ran his tongue along the edge of my ear. "If I keep it up . . . what?" He licked the inner shell and then blew on the ear as I shivered. His long, golden neck was right there, white hair contrasting beautifully with the smooth skin, impossible to resist. My lips skimmed across the flesh, getting an answering shiver.

As I stepped into the water he sighed to feel the warmth sheeting across his back. I left bruised flesh behind as I kissed and sucked water from his shoulder. My grip shifted to support him with one arm, the other hand now free to caress that pale, perfect ass and slide between his legs from behind.

We groaned together as he pushed against me. His hand pulled gently on my hair, and my hand stilled as I drew my head back for a kiss so deep and slow that that the world faded away.

Toshiro was trying to say thank you, and I love you with that kiss, and I responded with all the love I could convey. When we parted for breath he was smiling and he tilted his head back to let the water rain on his face. He pushed against me again, and my hand resumed teasing as I ducked my head to drink the nectar from that sweet little notch at the top of his breastbone.

He dipped his weight down against my hand, putting sudden pressure on my hard cock and I groaned. I stepped forward, and Toshiro leaned back against the wall of the shower. One hand remained wrapped around the back of my neck, and the other he used to brace his weight against the wall.

I guided myself to him, and easily entered, pushing up and forward steadily, no fast, sudden thrust to start this time. His satisfied moan was a balm to by still bruised heart, and I captured his lips again as I paused to enjoy being fully sheathed inside the most captivating man who ever existed.

We moved together slowly. I held him against the wall as I rocked into him and dragged back out, pushing my body against him to provide friction for the erection pressed between us.

Toshiro pressed both palms to the wall on either side of his head, which would have looked uncomfortable if not for his lithe build and dancer's grace. He used the leverage to tilt his pelvis, changing the angle. He cried out with my next stroke, and sighed as I pulled slowly away.

"Oooh, that's too good," his breath sighed around the words and I closed my eyes to savor the sounds as I moved a little faster. He made it difficult to stay slow, the sight of him and his words pushing at my control.

I focused on my own pleasure instead. The tightening of his muscles, the smooth skin under my hands, the strength wrapped around my hips. I loved to move slow inside of him, to revel in the contact of every inch of my cock being swallowed by that tight heat. And so I tortured myself by dragging slowly out of him, all of the way, and then thrusting firmly in to the hilt.

Toshiro had pushed against the wall so far that his head could drop back and his back arched, water streaking down and highlighting the tensed muscles of his fighter's physique. I was moving as it pleased me, but obviously it pleased him just as much. He was keening, the sound pulsing with each stroke. I fought to hold this wonderful pace, and with all my will I made it last as long as possible.

"Ichi . . . go . . . I can't . . AAAH . . . fuck!"

I moved a hand up between his shoulderblades, holding firmly to protect his head and back from the tile wall before I slammed into him, thrusting fast and deep, seeking my own release and trusting his was close.

Shouting with each stroke, my voice blended with his and echoed in the confines of the shower, until he tightened around me and the delightful pressure was more than I could endure. My legs shook as I stepped forward, letting the wall support him as I indulged in a few more thrusts.

I pinned him to the wall as I leaned my weight forward, forehead resting on the tile above his shoulder. I was completely spent, every muscle quivering in bliss and exhaustion.

Toshiro's arm draped over my shoulder as we gasped for breath, his other hand slid into my wet hair as his head tilted to rest against mine. This was nice. We stayed that way until I had enough strength to move. Lifting my head, I kissed him and felt his lips smile against mine. Black lashes fluttered open and I caught my breath at how those eyes still had the power to stun my heart.

"At the risk of making you even more arrogant, I have to say that was incredible. All of it."

"I bet you say that to all of your sex slaves."

"Who would need a second with you around? Was that three times tonight? Three the night you burnt the living room rug, well four for me. But only two each on the two nights in between. Hmm, maybe I could use another."

I pulled out, shutting him up for a second. "What, you're keeping track?"

"I can't help it. By the way, we have 180 seconds at most before the hot water runs out."

"It's NOT sexy when you use your tensai powers for evil." I set him down gently as he laughed and handed him the soap while I used the shampoo as a wash to save time. I beat the deadline anyway, and left to get towels. He took his time, of course not minding the cold water.

I held out the towel with a grin, offering to dry him off and wrap him up again like a cute little sushi roll. But he grabbed the towel away from me. Then he shook out his hair.

"Hey! I just got dry." He snickered and I was just too happy that he was sounding and acting normal to complain any further.

He grabbed the glass by the tub and drank it all down, filled it again, and walked to his closet. I made sure the bathroom was tidy, rinsing the tub and collecting the mountain of towels we had used today. I went to my closet and slipped on underwear and a dark gray robe.

When I stepped out my breath was stolen again. Toshiro stood in front of the wall of windows, back mostly to me but slightly in profile with his arms tucked into opposite sleeves. His reflection was clear on the window, snowflakes drifting through it like a ghost. His silky robe was the palest silver blue at the shoulder, shading to deep navy at the hem. His eyes picked up the color, shining like flawless sapphires above his soft smile as he gazed out at the swirling snow. I stared in awe until he noticed me, turning his head over his shoulder and widening his smile before looking back to the winter scenery.

I walked up behind him, letting my arms fall over his shoulders, resting my hands on his folded arms. He leaned back against me. Eyeing our reflection, I realized we were an impressively handsome couple, though I might have been biased. I couldn't help but wonder what that reflection would look like when he was taller. Would his face be more narrow, or broader? Would his eyes remain so wide? Would his lips thin or retain their fullness?

Toshiro would redefine beauty no matter what little changes came with time. I turned my eyes to the snow as it transformed the landscape into diamonds of white and blue in the night.

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Ichigo had to shake me out of nightmares twice that night. Held close to his side, his fingers running slowly through my hair and down my back, the paralyzing fear subsided and quiet slumber reclaimed me. He tried to make me stay home, at least for the morning. He had argued when I refused, but I remained calm and didn't let him turn it into a fight. Then he had insisted he stay with me for the day. I reminded him that he had duties today. His relationship with his division was new and needed his full attention.

In the end, he gave in to me, as he should. As bad as last night had been, he had no way of knowing yet how much worse it could have been. Having him there when I came out of it, being taken care of as I recovered, and then being thoroughly distracted and transported beyond the reach of the past was an unexpected blessing.

The snow helped. Yes, it was my fault that Seireitei was a pristine landscape of white in the dawn. Storms came when I called, and when I was in pain they came unbidden unless I had enough control to stop them. Before the beauty melted I needed to take full advantage. Matsumoto would expect me to skip out anyway, with it being the first deep snow of the season. It was the one and only irresponsible habit I allowed myself. I left a note behind and gleefully raced across the shining rooftops.

Ideally, I would have left Seireitei and Rukongai behind, seeking the truly untamed wilderness. But I didn't have time for a long journey today. There were wild spaces to be found everywhere, especially where jagged cliffs cut through Rukongai, creating inaccessible ramparts that sometimes hid uncharted and pristine valleys. One such valley I had discovered as a child. When things got bad enough, I would run away for days. The woman I called my grandmother had not deserved such treatment, but what does a boy care about the worry he causes?

I sprinted recklessly, jumping from ledge to ledge until I stood atop a tall spire in the thin air as the sun peeked over the horizon. The view was astounding, sandy red rocks framing a small valley. A shining stream cut through the entire length between white capped pines and heavy, peaked drifts or rippling dunes of snow. The morning light set everything ablaze in a riot of color.

Fool, you should have brought him. The only thing better than this sight would be seeing it anew through his eyes.

My favorite place within this favorite place was a tree lined meadow. It was graced with a small but deep pool created where the cold stream fell from a rocky outcropping along the tree line. Even in the height of summer I could train or relax, surrounded by water and shade.

Setting my feet down lightly, I smiled at the crunch of fresh snow. Few things could break through the joy this weather brought. Normally, Hyorinmaru would be humming in my mind, as elated as I to welcome the return of our season. His uncharacteristic silence spoke volumes. He was waiting for me, knowing that I would be questioning him about secrets he did not wish to reveal.

The simple strategy I had used on Ichigo was to shake him out of his foul moods and then talk to him once he was happy. I decided to try it on Hyorinmaru. Even if he was being recalcitrant, he would never refuse my call in battle or in training. I called a wind to even out my training ground and reveal any hidden rocks, but left a couple of inches of snow so that I could enjoy the sound of my footsteps. I drew Hyorinmaru and began my warm up exercise, the smooth forms flowing into one another reflecting not just decades, but millennia of training as a swordsman.

They called me a prodigy, but I was a cheat. My IQ was only one factor. I had a zanpakuto that had been with me for many lives. As far as I knew, I was the only one with this advantage. I remembered just enough to know that I came back every time a warrior. Of course I learned more quickly, had access to power earlier, and mastered a wide variety of techniques while still a child. Even though I did not recall specifics without some prompting, I had learned all this many, many times.

Long before I released Hyorinmaru to play in the frosted morning, he had joined me in the dance, twisting and striking with me in forms ancient and new. We reaffirmed our bond in the most primitive of ways, deadly and beautiful attacks transforming the landscape with waves and spikes of ice. I roared with him as I launched myself into the blue on wings of ice.

Something was different. There was more and stronger power available than before. But I was too lost in the glory to turn aside. If there was something new to learn, I would settle that after I settled Hyorinmaru. There was still plenty of power, and no one in sight that could be hurt unintentionally. I indulged in a rare treat, calling on the storm, and my peaceful little valley was enveloped in darkness as the sky churned with black clouds.

Snow poured down, crashing into the ground and burying the ice of my earlier attacks. Hyorinmaru's laughter rivaled the sound of the avalanche we had created for no purpose other than to please us. Releasing but not dispelling the storm, the clouds lightened and a normal snowfall lingered. My soul was elated, and Hyorinmaru was purring in the back of my mind. Touching down, I dismissed Bankai and sank past my knees in the softness.

It was good that I had come alone. After that display, Ichigo would probably attack me and fuck me senseless in a snowbank. No, on second thought I would probably be the one making him pass out.

With a swipe of my sword and a push of reiatsu I cleared a little nest in the snow and settled to the ground. The freshly dumped snow was more than 8 feet deep, and the white walls of my meditation area blocked the world out perfectly. It took a few minutes to calm myself down, and my mood was reflected in the crystal blue skies and refracting colors in my inner world.

Hyorinmaru was in fine form, soaring and swooping, creating small tsunamis of snow as he dove and played. I laughed and sat down, stretching my legs in front of me and leaning back on my palms, waiting and watching the show instead of calling him down. When he finally came to me, he swooped low and plowed through the snow snout first, coming to a stop a few feet shy of me. He rolled in the snow, serpentine body wriggling like a dog on its back and I laughed loudly. He twisted back around and an explosion of his breath coated me in frost. I wiped my skin off without losing my laughter.

It has been too long, master.

That it has. I've been neglecting you, though that was more play than training.

You needed this as well.

Mmhmm. It is good to remind myself what we are capable of.

He drew up his head, stretched his wings wide and then folded them along his body, contented purrs shaking the ground.

Is it just the time that has passed, or is our Bankai stronger?

I told you that your power is still growing, young one.

Typical, answering the question by not answering at all.

So, we do need to do Bankai training soon.

Indeed. You will find it useful for upcoming battles.

And would the increase in power have anything to do with these recurring attacks? Last night was the worst yet, Hyorinmaru. You need to tell me what is happening to me.

I cannot. You must recall or not of your own will.

How? It is not simply a matter of me willing the knowledge to return. I have tried, but I have achieved nothing. And these attacks do not come when I am prepared. If I only learn one thing or two each time, I'll have to go through this a hundred times or more. I cannot. I do not wish to and I am not sure I would survive.

Did you learn something new?

I looked at him speculatively. None of the questions I asked were new; I had begged, threatened, and reasoned but he would not yeild. He would not share information about this, beyond the broadest strokes of the picture. It used to anger me beyond reason. Sometimes it still did.

I did. I feel like it was all much more intense than before. But as usual it all faded when I woke. I already knew that it is one specific past life that is haunting me, my first life I think. I knew that I betrayed someone very dear to me. I knew that I had caused their death, and the deaths of many, many others.

And what have you added?

Revenge. That is what poisons my memories. Guilt is there as well, but it is buried under an all-consuming need for vengeance unlike anything I have ever imagined. It was a man I loved. And when he died I tore the world apart, slaughtering friend and foe alike.

A very clear vision, then. What else?

Singing. A voice and a name. His or mine I do not know.

The great head dipped down close.

A name?

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I skipped out a little early to have lunch at the 10th, anxious to check on Toshiro. But I was disappointed when I found only Matsumoto. Toshiro was out somewhere training, she said he usually went pretty far from Seireitei. Suppressing the flash of concern, I went to the house instead of the cafeteria. Toshiro had a terrible night, true, but he was a captain and quite capable of taking care of himself. That was one of the best things about him, so I needed to squash my protective instincts.

I made a meal of leftovers, and a small pot of coffee which I immediately drank down. I was sick of reading, so the library was out. Deciding to make myself useful for the rest of the lunch hour, I went back to the office and took Toshiro's chair. Matsumoto had left, so I had peace and quiet to flip through the paperwork, pulling out any basic forms and completing them.

When I felt the approaching icy reiatsu, I kept working. I was Toshiro for the moment, after all, and I scribbled away intently as he walked in the door and paused. As I moved one sheet to the completed pile and grabbed another, I made the mistake of glancing up. His scowl was chillingly convincing as he glared at me with folded arms and knitted brow.

And he was radiant. There was an aura about him, not just the subtle glow of reiatsu but something . . . ethereal. Not the first time I had thought of him that way, but now it truly fit. Looking at him wide-eyed, it was as if I could almost see something more, something great and powerful just behind him, an afterimage or illusion gone the moment the eye focused.

"What the hell happened to you?"

That was not what he expected, and his brows shot up as he looked down at himself.

"What?"

"Toshiro, you're practically glowing. You've taken another lover, haven't you? You've been off with someone else, leaving me forlorn and alone."

The scowl was back. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then what? Dear god, you're pregnant?"

"Ichigo," he growled.

"Don't worry, my love. I'll make an honest man out of you. And you'll make a great mom . . . er, dad."

"I'm leaving. We can try this conversation again at a later date."

"Toshiro!"

He slammed the door shut on my laughter. If he had actually been angry, he would have used shunpo and disappeared on me. I caught up with him as he walked out of the front gate. He was still scowling, and I fell into step beside him without a word. After a couple of blocks, he relented a little.

"How are try-outs going?"

"Boring, as expected this early in. How delusional can people get? Every Shinigami with an ounce of reiatsu thinks they're the next captain. Oh, and I got a note from the old man. Bankai training now allowed. Encouraged, in fact. Maybe I ca thin out the herd of hopefuls by having them all face me. And your training?"

He glanced at me. "Very productive . . . and fun."

"You did tell me it was your favorite thing to do. Hyorinmaru must be a good deal more pleasant than Zangetsu."

"He has his moments."

He crossed the street to a small storefront and ordered a steamed bun.

"Do you want anything?"

"Nope. You skipped breakfast and lunch, didn't you?"

"Easy, Matsumoto."

I chuckled and let him eat as we continued walking with no destination in mind. The Seireitei snow removal team was efficient, and the roads were clear. It helps when just about everyone can use fire thanks to kido or zanpakuto abilities.

He licked his fingers and sighed. "I should have gotten two."

"I can run back and get another."

"No, but thanks. At least my stomach won't be grumbling."

"So. Is it the snow or the training that has you looking so sexy?"

He snorted. "Both. And you."

"Me?"

"What happened last night has happened before. Usually it takes days before I can function normally. You changed that, made it bearable. Thank you."

Suddenly it was difficult to breathe. This was a conversation we should be having face to face. But if Toshiro wanted to talk about it walking down a public street, I'd take what I could get.

"Of course, but thank Hyorinmaru, too."

"Hyorinmaru?" He looked curious more than startled.

"Yep. I was just about to rush you off to Unohana when he stopped me. Stuck me in the middle of the Antarctic and told me to stay with you and do nothing else. Bossy fucking lizard."

"He did not mention that. But regardless, you did much more for me than simply being there."

"You are now and always welcome."

A smile flashed across his face.

"You can be quite charming when you put some effort into it."

I chewed on the questions I wanted to ask. It was tempting to be late returning to the 5th, since he was being open.

"Thanks, I guess. I have to go get bored to tears again. Preliminary try-outs are horrific."

"Try to behave. Killing subordinates is frowned upon until you've been a captain at least a month. See you soon."

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I woke the next morning to music. Not the polished recordings from that little electronic wonder, but the bright sounds of a real guitar. Short riffs of notes were repeated and altered slightly a few times, a musician practicing. I did not get up, content just to listen.

When a mellow voice join the guitar I sucked in a breath. Emotions swamped my senses, and for just an instant I remembered another voice, one that had sung me to sleep nearly every night. There were tears in my eyes and a deep pain in my chest. I sat up and rubbed my face harshly. Not my memories, not my life, and not my lover.

Focusing on the easy voice drifting from down the hall, I got out of bed and padded silently toward the lovely music.

He sang a love song in English, one I had heard from his collection though then it was accompanied by piano and stringed instruments. I leaned on the wall outside the door. He paused again, trying a few variations on the guitar before attempting the song again.

'Over the shifting desert plains, across the mountain all in flames, through howling winds and driving rains to be by your side.'

I smiled at the sentiment, and how true those words could be. One could listen to such words and think there was no one who would ever truly follow through. But I knew what I would be willing to do if Ichigo were suddenly beyond my reach. It seemed to be part of my nature, this fast and deep attachment. The one I had been long ago had been just as obsessed, just as dedicated to the man who sang him sweet songs.

Time passed as I leaned there in the hall, listening as he worked out this bittersweet tune on his instrument, and eventually I crept back to the bedroom and let him work undisturbed while I indulged in a completely lazy and beautiful morning.

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It had been three days since his birthday, and the breakdown or whatever that could have been. I hadn't pressed, hadn't asked a single question. He had offered his thanks as we walked together down the street, but no further explanation. My eyes kept sliding to him as I finished putting things away after a peaceful dinner at home, with not one mention of the odd and terrifying event I could not get out of my mind.

What's more, I had learned something equally mysterious and probably connected to whatever Toshiro was going through. I found myself constantly distracted throughout the day. I had pretended it was preparations for the holiday, still surprised that most of Seireitei gave a shit about Christmas. Any excuse to have a party, I suppose. I had thought I'd done well hiding my anxiety, but I'd fallen in love with the tensai. He dried the last dish, dried his hands, and turned to face me.

"Something has been on your mind."

"Mmm, a few things. We've made it through preliminary try-outs, finally. I'm putting off matches with the current officers until after the holiday parties are over." He nodded with pursed lips, but he didn't give in.

"Something else you have been avoiding. Perhaps something you are afraid to bring up?"

Frankly, I was surprised at how he was handling this, dancing around the subject when he had to know what was at the root of my concern. He was the one avoiding a delicate issue, not me. It must scare him a great deal, and the thought of what could cause fear in Toshiro caused terror in me. Sighing, I closed the distance and pulled him close.

"Not afraid, love, just procrastinating."

"Well," he said against my chest, "we do have a few unfinished topics of conversation. Too cold out for the hammock?"

"It's snowing again, you lunatic. I'm going to have to work on my cold tolerance. Check with me again in May."

"I'll make tea then, while you settle on the couch and gather your thoughts." He pulled away and I wandered into the living room.

When he came out of the kitchen with two mugs he raised an eyebrow at what I had done. The couch cushions and every throw pillow I could find were piled in front of the patio door, thick blankets on top to create a cozy nest. I sat with a stack of cushions behind me, propped up looking out at the snowy garden. I folded back the blanket that was over my legs, and took the mugs while he nestled in beside me, resting his head against the arm I draped over his shoulders. We sipped tea and cuddled contently for a little while.

"The 5th division captain quarters are right above the office. It's a nice enough apartment, but you've completely spoiled me."

"I did warn you."

"It will be a good place to crash when I'm checking night patrols or something, I guess."

He sipped and waited, watching the snowflakes. Alright, it wasn't such a big deal after some of what we'd been through.

"I was organizing and got distracted reading the journals you gave me. Then I remembered you saying the author was captain of the 5th, so I looked up Saito Tatsuya in the division book."

"Ah, that's what this is about?"

"I know that I barely understand how Shinigami come to be, and where their power comes from. I didn't think it was possible for two Shinigami to have the same zanpakuto." He stayed quiet, eyes fixed on nothing now.

"But there it was in black and white. Saito-taicho and his zanpakuto Hyorinmaru, an ice zanpakuto known to take the form of a dragon. I expected Saito to look like you, and there was more than a strong resemblance. He looked older, his hair light gray instead of white, eyes a pale green, but otherwise he looked like he might be your brother. Saito sped through the Academy in three years and advanced quickly through the ranks. This is connected to what you were trying to tell me before, isn't it?"

He blinked and took an unsteady breath. "I will tell you, but I don't want to. I have never told anyone, and somehow that makes it less real."

"If you don't want to, then don't."

He looked at me with a faint smile that did not reach his eyes. "No, I need to. I should have told you earlier, then you would have been prepared for what happened. And I suspect that it will become very important for you to know the truth. But before you expect too much, I know very few facts about this. A lot of what I think I know is supposition.

"You understand the basics of the soul cycle? Souls are born into the living world. Upon death, they move to Soul Society unless they are taken by Heaven or Hell, or are diverted other ways such as becoming Hollows or being preyed upon by Hollows. The majority are reborn again, and at each death and birth the memory is wiped clean."

"That's about the limit of what I've heard. And souls with high reiryoku may become Shinigami while they are here in Soul Society."

"But there are very rare exceptions, oddities like you. Some probably go unnoticed. I am an exception, one not unnoticed but also not clearly understood or properly recorded. As far as I can tell, my soul keeps coming back to Soul Society, skipping the living world. That is not normal. And in many or possibly all lives Hyorinmaru has been with me. That should be impossible. A zanpakuto is a part of your soul, unique to each Shinigami and each life, since your soul cannot be the same as your experiences change."

"So, you're telling me that you were Saito in a previous life? Do you remember it?"

"It seems I was, and no, I don't remember anything of any life except this one and one other. At least I think so. Those . . . episodes involve memories. For a long time, I thought they were not real, just nightmares. But almost every time I remember something that seems as real as this."

My arm squeezed his shoulders lightly for a moment. "And these memories, they're what made you scream, what made you shut down for days."

"That is the life I am struggling to remember. I forget almost everything when I wake up."

"Thank god for that."

"No, I have to remember. I will keep getting dragged back down if I cannot take control of this. But I don't know how. I've tried meditation, I've tried making myself depressed as hell, I've tried drinking until I black out, and of course I've tried Hyorinmaru. He must know everything, but he says remembering is up to me. While he stays silent I am more tempted each time to just give in, to just die in the darkness. And I know he must have done this to my past selves, held his tongue while they begged for answers and then gave in to despair so consuming that they chose death rather than face it again.

"So how is that, Ichigo? Enough of an asshole zanpakuto for you?"

He was stiff as I pulled him closer, that cold, blank look on his face in contrast to the bitter anger in his voice. I held him close against my side and buried my face in his hair, my hands rubbing up and down his arms slowly. He didn't relax, didn't react at all.

"Can you tell me about the other times, or is it too much?"

He blinked and I stopped the panic that had been growing in the back of my mind.

"I am not sure about the first time. I had died, evidently, and woke up in Rukongai. I have never understood the cruelty of this, that a soul is cut adrift with no connections. If the soul is supposed to recuperate and prepare for a better life, then why throw it back into a society as unjust and violent as the living world?

"At any rate, a scrawny, strange looking child with high reiryoku was an easy target. Junrinan is one of the most peaceful, orderly districts, but wherever there are humans, there are always predators. Before Momo found me, I spent most of my time hiding and running. I was not always successful. The other street rats hunted in packs, and they knew all the hiding places. I had been caught and beaten badly for sport the first time it happened. I cannot be entirely sure that is what happened, though. I had a concussion. Hyorinmaru was not with me yet, and no memories stuck with me except the way it always ends, with me alone in darkness, sick with grief for reasons I cannot recall."

My heart hurt for him and I wanted to say or do anything to comfort him. But this was not in any way about me.

"Some years later I lived in relative safety with Momo and the woman we both called grandmother. My reiatsu was out of control. Hyorinmaru had been trying to reach me for some time, and I was a very real threat to everyone around me. When Matsumoto stumbled upon me one day and recognized what was happening, she told me what I had to do, leave Rukongai for Seireitei.

"Rukongai had never been a pleasant place for me, but the woman who took me in was the only person who accepted me, and Momo of course. Granny's home was the only place I had any happy memories of, the only place I had ever felt safe. It happened the night before I planned to leave home. It took me two days to recover, and all I could remember was dying in pain and fire. That and having to climb out of darkness and despair, with no reason why I had to endure this. I assumed it was some kind of panic attack brought on by the fear of leaving home, that it was all false."

He had started to soften just a little, his eyes still cold but more focused and occasionally tracking the big clumps of flakes drifting in the wind.

"The Academy was both a relief and a trial. The street rats there had bigger teeth, but were at least on leashes. And I was rapidly learning to defend myself. Against all odds I made a friend, Kusaka Sojiro. We became very close very quickly. I had never had a friend before, someone to challenge me in training and praise me for my accomplishments. For a short time, life became pleasant, rather than just bearable."

He fell silent for a moment. "Have you heard about this?" he whispered, and the pain is his voice cut me to the quick.

Part of me wanted to lie and spare him the telling. Part of me was begging to know what had hurt him so badly, and who this Kusaka was to Toshiro.

"No, love. No one mentioned Kusaka, just that you graduated at the top of your class in one year."

"Hmph. That's all anyone cared about in the end."

He sagged against me and closed his eyes.

"It is theoretically impossible for two Shinigami to have the same zanpakuto. Hyorinmaru's return over the centuries has fed a number of legends. Hyorinmaru had been with me for some time before the Academy. Why he also appeared to Kusaka, even he has not been able to explain. I know somehow I was responsible, that my feeling close to Kusaka was the cause for Hyorinmaru's choice.

"When the Academy instructors found out that Hyorinmaru had chosen both me and Kusaka, it caused investigations and accusations that landed us in front of Central 46. In their great and benevolent wisdom, they decreed a duel to the death, winner take all. They would not listen when I begged to surrender Hyorinmaru. The old men and women yelled for our blood like savages, egging us on, pushing and taunting, demanding that I murder my best friend or die trying."

My arms tightened, but I immediately relaxed them again. He had once told me that he had lost more than I could imagine. He was right.

"Of course, it was a trial, a test of our motives for power. I did not kill Kusaka. He attacked and I only defended, but the fight was quickly interrupted. For his choice, he was condemned and executed before my eyes as I was restrained. I hate to admit that I understood their reasoning. One who put his own desires before what is right, put his pride before loyalty could not be trusted with the power of such a strong zanpakuto. Yet it was unjust. They never gave him a chance to think it through. He was 20 years old, confused, scared, and goaded into prideful action by those who should have nurtured and protected him. At the very least they should have allowed him to die by my hand, rather than being slaughtered by assassins."

I did not wipe away his silent tears, neither did he. It seemed to me his friend deserved this small tribute. His voice was completely steady but slight tremors ran through him.

"Someone found me in the woods on the Academy grounds. I woke in the 4th, and when I woke screaming they sedated me for three days. Everyone assumed it was a nervous breakdown. What else would you expect from a child who just rushed through the Academy and then saw his best friend killed in a 'training accident.'

"Unohana couldn't do anything for me, though I told her everything I could about what happened to me physically. I did not tell her about the memories. I died again in fire, with a number of fatal wounds. This time I remembered that I had betrayed someone very dear to me, or they had betrayed me. It seemed it must be a false memory, so connected to recent events.

"They erased Kusaka from history."

I rocked him gently until he stopped trembling. He never made a sound, and the tears were few. This was an old wound, but one I knew never healed. The distance between Toshiro and the rest of the world was wide, and anyone who tried to cross it would be walking through an emotional minefield. His kind and honest heart had been abused at every turn.

"Hyorinmaru and I talked often and for long periods of time after that. He confirmed that it was real, and implied that if I could remember my past I would be able to heal and to unlock my true power. I was naive enough to be tempted by this. But I couldn't find any way to induce another episode, or to find the memories without the trauma. So, I just fell into the life I had chosen, and focused on gaining power. If anyone ever tried to hurt my friends or fuck up my life again, I wanted to be able to stop them and make them pay for the attempt.

"Three more times in the next 30 years, that was all. As 3rd seat I faced my first true failure. I arrived too late to save an entire squad from being massacred, though I did kill the Hollows responsible. I held it together until that night. No one was too shocked that the little kid didn't show for work the next day. Matsumoto and Shiba kept it quiet. The new memory gained was of blood, a massacre. And as far as I could tell, I was the killer. Again, the memory related so closely to what had triggered the episode that I thought it all false.

"Then my captain died. Your father had given me recognition and a purpose, even if he did not do much to defend me from the consequences of what others saw as favoritism. Suspicion of treachery and the pressure to save the division's honor drove me to desperation, and I pushed myself to achieve Bankai in less than a year. I accomplished my goal, but the glory of obtaining that power was lost to the darkness. I gained no new understanding that time, just a jumble of images that do not make sense.

"Finally came Aizen's betrayal. He left me and Momo for dead, and the dark took me again. That was the worst one, and I almost gave up on living. But I gained a tiny bit of knowledge. I knew that a loved one had been tortured brutally and killed because of me, because I had utterly and completely failed them. That was very, very clear, and I no longer tried to fool myself by connecting the memory to circumstance."

"And then you came to Las Noches. The next time was when I put those cuffs on you."

"Yes." I winced. "It was different, though. Because I was powerless perhaps, or because I was isolated from Hyorinmaru. I went through the pain, but gained nothing, no memories, no clarity. Just misery. I do not know what made me climb back out instead of dying, other than stubbornness. Recovery was easy that time, though I would have preferred some progress at the cost of additional suffering. Each time that I remembered something, even something small, I soon found my abilities were stronger.

"But this last time was the first episode not seemingly triggered by trauma. And I brought back more than ever before. It was a man, my lover. I had personally delivered him into the hands of our enemies, and left him to face his end alone. I cannot understand why I would do this, why I would betray one I loved. They not only killed him, they tortured him for many days. And I now know that when I learned of his death I gave my soul to vengeance, attacking my enemies and anyone else who crossed my path. I bathed in blood until I was brought down and slaughtered like a beast."

His hands came up and he wove his fingers through mine, resting our hands on his legs. His thumbs curled in against my palms, rubbing slowly.

"When it happens, Ichigo, it's like I relive that entire life but then it all fades like smoke. It always ends with my death, which was so painful that I flee from the memory into forgetfulness. Thus it is my own fault that I cannot remember the truth. I find myself in a nonexistent place, somewhere created by my mind, and it takes the form of a quiet, dark, and deep pit. I know that in past lives I have died there, with no will to climb out.

It's horrific, facing that as the memories that give it any meaning disappear. Perhaps the reason I cannot evoke these memories on my own is that I dread revisiting that painful death. If I could face it, maybe the memories would not elude me. Or I fear that challenge at the end, having to decide whether to live or just sleep. And then I wake again, cold and alone, with no explanation for the grief and guilt that drowns me. That is where you found me, and pulled me out of that ocean of despair."

His hands squeezed mine.

"You cannot understand what that means to me. Not just the relief this time, but to know that it is possible. That there can be light if I can pull myself far enough through the darkness."

"Oh, my love, I can understand that perfectly. How many times did you shine that light for me to see the way out of my own shattered mind?"

In response he shifted, placing himself in my lap and wrapping our arms around him, still joined by interlaced fingers.

"Do you know what you'll do now?"

"I am going to start trying again. Maybe now that I have a few pieces of the truth I can expect to get more each time. Or maybe without as much fear, knowing that I have someone to come back to, I can face it head on instead of letting it ambush me. But not yet."

"Doesn't anyone know about this? Urahara, or the old man? He's been around a long time, he's had to have noticed Hyorinmaru more than once. Or Shunsui and Ukitake?"

"I have thought about it. There are several past wielders of Hyorinmaru in the records. There is never a connection noted. That tells me that Central 46 is covering it up, but not completely. More like they are hiding the secret in plain sight. Somewhere there may be a clear record stringing all my past lives together, but I will never find it if I haven't by now.

"A few of my predecessors died abruptly, and under odd circumstances. Others just disappeared. And always right about when they would have started pushing their power and questioning. So it is not something I can just ask anyone about. I don't know what the consequences would be, and I don't want to find out. If the old ones know more than the legend, they aren't saying. And that means it is not safe to ask."

"What's the legend?"

He snorted. "You'll love this. There are a few versions. The most common calls me or Hyorinmaru or both of us the Heavenly Guardian. We are reborn every few centuries, when Heaven or Soul Society will face a great threat. Then apparently we have the grace to die or vanish until we are needed again.

"Where we come from in the first place is even more absurd. Some versions have me as a great royal prince, sworn to serve the Soul King for eternity. Others say I am a dragon that defends the king, or that defends the balance of life and death. But I split my soul to fight as a Shinigami for some reason, or my dragon soul was split by some curse. My own favorite gives me credit for creating Heaven itself, or even for creating humanity.

"In Rukongai, there is even a winter festival where you can find paintings and carvings of an ice dragon said to be the guardian of man. It varies, but in a few districts the dragon's name is Hyorinmaru. Romantic nonsense. Any truth in any of it would be coincidence at this point. But it is clear that Hyorinmaru is no normal zanpakuto. He has been around for millennia, and according to him, so have I."

"And to think at one point you tried to convince me that you weren't interesting."

"This doesn't bother you? I cannot know what I will discover about my past, or how it will change me in the future."

"That's true of all of us, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"Whatever you decide to do, you know I'll be there to help any way that I can."

He tilted his head back and to the side. I took the invitation gladly, bringing my lips to his gently. Many sweet little kisses later he turned to face me. We made love slowly and tenderly, falling into the cushions in a tangle of limbs. The little nest I had created kept us warm and safe through the dark.

Despite, or perhaps because of, the deep wounds he had exposed I felt calmer and more connected to him than ever before.

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

The holiday came and went with as little interference from me as possible. Ichigo went to a few parties, and joined in the fun. He did not force me to participate, and those who knew me let me be. My division knew from decades of experience that they were not excused from duty, unlike a few of the other divisions, and the 10th was one of the quietest places in Seireitei.

My beloved was recently human, and so I forgave him for presenting me with a colorful box. What was inside made up for my irritation, an exquisite antique dragon carved from imperial jade. Instantly envisioning its future, I sent it off the next day to a jeweler to have it set as a necklace.

That evening I picked Ichigo up at his office for our long overdue dinner with Ukitake and a slightly hungover Kyoraku. The man must have been drinking well past dawn to still be feeling the punishment for his sins. Most of the discussion was about the 5th and advice for the new captain. Both senior captains made time in their schedules to train with Ichigo. He had been working hard to master two blades, but pointers from them would be invaluable.

One thing that kept running through my mind was Ichigo's question about the older Shinigami. I had thought of it myself, of course, but had pushed the questions down for decades now, for good reason. Both Ukitake and Kyoraku knew Saito, the captain of the 5th, wielder of Hyorinmaru. It was not possible that they would not recognize Hyorinmaru, and not possible that they would fail to see the physical similarities between me and Saito. They both would have at least some familiarity with lieutenant Adachi, maybe less with 5th seat Tsuchida and 3rd seat Noguchi. All wielders of Hyorinmaru.

Neither had ever mentioned it. I had not asked. I was afraid to ask. Even now, sitting in Ukitake's dining room sipping tea as pleasant and intelligent conversation surrounded me, I was afraid to ask.

I masked my anxiety with well-placed comments and a calm, open expression as I watched their faces. I had never seen a glimmer of recognition, and only the usual speculative glances when we were first getting to know each other. They had many centuries of experience over me, so I never would be able to read them if I had not by now. No, the only way to ever know was to flat out confront them.

But Saito had been killed under mysterious circumstances. Noguchi had simply failed to return from a routine check on patrols in Rukongai. Adachi had been outright murdered, a crazed Shinigami blamed. Tsuchida had succumbed to wounds after a training accident, a highly unlikely event with Unohana in charge of the 4th.

I had researched their lives. Adachi, Tsuchida, and Noguchi were dead within a few weeks of achieving Bankai. All circumstantial, all things that just happen. Something made me suspect that these things just happened after certain questions were asked. Saito lasted longer, perhaps because he kept his mouth shut. That 8th journal he had written was not truly incomplete, and I knew the questions that had haunted him in the end.

If the wielder of Hyorinmaru was truly some hero, a Heavenly Guardian meant to save Soul Society, then four of us, four of me, would not have been discarded by fate in this manner. A grand achievement would have been recorded. And here sat two who had seen the rise and fall of Hyorinmaru multiple times. One was a friend. Both were extremely dangerous.

No, I would not ask.

As I lay comfortable and warm in Ichigo's arms that night, I asked him if he would be with me the following night as I made an attempt to retrieve the memories that might help me or destroy me. He held me tight as he agreed.