Chapter 4

Rukia's chest constricted in worry as Ichigo lay in the dirt. He wouldn't open his eye or show any signs of response despite her jabs and teasing. She leaned forward to kick him but the seal's function came to mind, stopping her foot midair. Growling, she turned to glare at Urahara, who still examined Ichigo with pursed lips.

"Relax, It's probably nothing," Yoruichi said, rubbing her shoulder, transferring some heat. "He's just doing something rash again."

Right. It couldn't be possible that the Hogyoku activated again—though Urahara could be wrong, and made a mistake with the Asauchi. But it was Ichigo they were talking about, and he was an idiot.

She sighed and turned to her captain.

He blinked when his eyes caught her's, and rubbed his head. "Perhaps he just collapsed from exhaustion," he said, glancing at Ichigo. "He had an incredible about of spirit energy running through him." He offered a smile.

Rukia considered it—that could be the case, after all, even he didn't have an infinite well. No one could. All that power had to come from somewhere; changing form or transferring between bodies, or even being absorbed from the ambient energy of Soul Society. But it was impossible to create energy out of nothing.

And in Ichigo's case, he was a soul who could absorb and hold an unimaginable amount of energy.

The head captain glanced at her, nodding, as if he could read her mind.

She rose an eyebrow, and he shook his head.

Just developed intuition.

Urahara leaned forward from behind his fan.

Rukia nudged him. "You don't think it's happening again do you?"

He peeked at her, a glint flashing in his eye. "For the last time…" he said, snapping his fan shut. "I'm not sure."

"It shouldn't be possible, considering what we used on him" captain Ukitake interjected. "We more or less had to use one of our last resorts, but Ichigo hasn't failed to surprise me yet."

She took breath. Urahara was a genius after all. If anything could seal the power of the Hogyoku, it would be something he inven— Captain Ukitake said it was their last resort.

"What was that liquid you used on the Asauchi?" Rukia asked.

"Oh that? It was nothing, just some black paint!" Urahara answered, waving his fan.

Yoruichi bonked him on the head again.

"Ah don't worry, we'll explain everything when Ichigo wakes up again from his nap," captain Ukitake said, chuckling at Urahara.

A different voice called from behind. "Sorry I'm late. I had to convince Yuzu that she couldn't come."

"Isshin Shiba," the head captain stated in greeting.

Ichigo's dad waved his arms comically. "Don't call me that old-man Yama. I still haven't told Ichigo yet," he said in a hushed tone and looked towards his son. His face perked up. "what's with him? I thought it happened already and Kisuke used it."

Rukia scowled. Everyone was in on it except her.

Urahara spoke in a low voice. "It appears that Ichigo is in Jinzen…"

"That's obvious," Rukia muttered.

"But what's not obvious is what he's talking about." He shared a look with Yoruichi and Ichigo's dad. "Perhaps we should have hidden his Zanpukto till we explained—oh well too late now!"

Yoruichi bonked him on the head again. "You idiot this is serious, what if he finds out?"

"It's fine, he's bound to find out eventually," Ichigo's dad said.

"Find out about what exactly?" Rukia's captain asked.

"You didn't know the whole story? Well long ago, in a town far far away, there—"

"You shall speak no more of this," the head captain interrupted. "That information will be kept on a need to know basis."

Rukia scowled again, and then scowled some more. What was with the captains and secrets?

Ichigo's dad, captain Ukitake and Yoruichi all gaped at the head captain, but Urahara lowered his hat an inch, covering his eyes even more.

Rukia made a mental note to buy herself a Chappy hat later. The Chappy shops in the shopping complexes of the Seireitei housing districts should have some… or she'd have to exert some authority to persuade the weavers to begin production.

A high-pitched, muffled noise came from Ichigo—a strange noise. The skin over his on eye pinched his eye shut in a scowl with several lines.

Urahara leaned forward again, poking his fan forwards but stopped within half a meter.

More squeaks bubbled from Ichigo.

Urahara and Ichigo's dad started to snicker but Yoruichi bonked them both on the base of their necks, knocking them unconscious. They slumped to the ground, boinking their heads on each other, like the goofballs they are. Rukia chuckled once.

"By the looks of that, it looks like his new sword spirit is giving him quite the time," Yoruichi said, grinning.

"And what do you mean by that?" Rukia asked, punching her arm, then regretting it. It was like punching a compressed sack of sick.

"Oh, just it looks like he's going to be spending a lot of nights in Jinzen."

No, she couldn't be implying…

Rukia narrowed her eyes. "Zangetsu's a guy."

"Maybe he's—"

Rukia slapped her mouth shut before that sentence finished. She just giggled under her hand and pointed at Ichigo's waist. His Hakama bulged where the bandages disintegrated from before.

Her cheeks fired up, for more reasons than one, because he couldn't be gay. He just couldn't. But his pants said otherwise, saying he was. It would explain a lot of thing though, like why Ichigo never made a move on an attractive girl—and why he was such a prude.

But he just couldn't be, Rukia pleaded to herself.

"Oh don't worry, there's still a chance he's straight," Yoruichi said, giggling. "He's got two Zanpukto now remember?" She wagged an eyebrow.

Her suggestion clicked after a moment. Rukia's captain and Kyoraku both had two spirits, according to what they said during a gathering. That should only mean Ichigo's new spirit's a girl—quite a pretty one.

It better not be a guy, or there'd be hell to pay.

His bulge still didn't fade.

"Why are you staring? Is it because you want to grab a handful of Ichigo?" Yoruichi teased.

More blood rushed to Rukia's cheeks, thumping up her neck.

Her suggestive grin stretched to a ridiculous size. "You better be fast—or I might just take him for myself."

Rukia growled, but she kept going on.

"However, it looks like his new sword spirit already got to him."

That slapped Rukia speechless. Ichigo wasn't like that, and neither would a manifestation of his soul. Unless he was secretly a pervert.

Ichigo let out a muffled moan.

Rukia's core heated up, enticed by the sound.

The head captain cleared his throat.

Her captain chuckled. "Alright, as entertaining that was, I think we better undo those seals and take him to somewhere more private before he…" he trailed off with a cough.

He raised his hand and chanted a long Kido, then fired several shots of spirit energy at the bindings, causing them to slack around Ichigo.

Just as that happened, a massive spiritual pressure engulfed the area. Rukia collapsed to her knees, palming the ground for support, breathless. Only the head captain was comparable to this.

Ichigo's dad and Urahara jolted awake, shooting a look at Ichigo.

"Gentei rein!" captain Ukitake shouted.

The pressure dropped but sweat still dripped down her forehead. She raised her own spiritual pressure until moving through the resistance was fluid. Though it was still like wading through muddy water back in one of the academy exercises, designed to teach weaker Soul Reapers to withstand officers without fainting.

Standing slowly, she took a few breaths. Everyone looked to be unaffected except for a slight sweat. The head captain didn't even appear to notice.

Urahara and Yoruichi turned to each other, speaking in hushed voices. Something about a guard leaked through.

A guard for Ichigo? They couldn't still be thinking of having to keep Ichigo locked up somewhere, confined to a tiny portion of the Seireitei where it was safe for him to live.

Rukia let it drop as captain Ukitake approached.

He smiled. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine."

"I forgot you weren't at the level of a captain yet," he said, and meandered over to check on Ichigo.

A captain one day? Rukia didn't know how to respond. She obtained a Shikai decades ago, that was true, but all the lieutenants did. And Rengi even reached Bankai—he wasn't becoming a captain any time soon despite that. Many years of training still separated him from the minimum level of a captain, and a few decades of maturity.

"Lets get him somewhere to rest," captain Ukitake suggested, inclining his head. "His spiritual pressure's still too heavy for the fourth division…" he trailed off, looking around.

"The new Shiba compound is still under construction," Ichigo's dad said, shoulders wilting, then perked straight. "But after it's finished it'll be fitting for the hero of the winter war and my third daughter to live in!"

Rukia blushed again, coughing, brushing off Ichigo's eccentric dad. "Captain, we could take him the Kuchiki compound. I can set aside an area for him to stay near the training grounds and ask the servants to keep their distance," she offered, straining to maintain a formal tone.

Her captain smiled. "That would be great, I hope Byakuya doesn't mind."

"Oh my third daughter and son are already moving in together! We're going to have our first grandkids soon Masaki!" Ichigo's dad yelled.

"W-What, we're n-not-" she stuttered.

A spray of blood arced through the air. Rukia spun around, lashing the muscles in her back and legs. The pain didn't matter, because multiple cuts on Ichigo's arms, chest and cheek bled into the dirt. Worst of all, a large gash dug into his chest—deep but not life threatening.

Ichigo swallowed and stepped back. His spirits looked at him, expectantly, as if he was wasting their valuable time. They couldn't be more unlike, but at this moment, they could be siblings.

"Hey guys… Let's not be hasty here," he said, shuffling backward. "There's two of you now and you both have two swords."

Tensa pushed out her hips, breaking character. "If you're worried about dying as a virgin—"

"I'm not worried about that at all!"

But a thought flounced from the depths of his mind, saying he really was. And then a knot in his stomach also betrayed his words. He growled, mentally slapping his body back to shape.

She smirked. "Don't worry, you can relax, cus you'll get to have your way with me… after I'm done with you."

Before he could retort, she appeared in front of him and pecked his lips, letting him taste some of her nectar. He returned the kiss for a second before she leaned back, keeping him at bay with a hand on his chest.

He blinked, shaking off the stupor. "W-What are you doing?!"

"I think that's obvious," she said, giggling and patting his chest.

"I thought we were going to fight!"

In the next second, she jumped back, spinning with both arms outstretched. A cut appeared on his cheek before he registered what happened, the sting of the wound.

"Oh we are fighting."

"GAH!" Ichigo flash stepped away and stemmed the bloodflow with the back of his hand. "Who the hell does that in a fight?!"

She ignored him. "You have ten hours Ichigo. We will fight you in turns until then, but if you can't figure out the rest of your release command, we will go all out on you." She declared in a low voice.

"Ten hours? Are you sure thats—"

"Though for me, it will be going all out in more ways than one. I hope little Ichigo's ready," she teased.

His eyes lingered on her form and descended to her groin.

She lifted her dress, stroking herself.

Heat flooded his face as he looked away. As he predicted, right here in this inner world, she'd be the death of him.

At the corner of his eye, he barely noticed the disappearance of his blue-haired spirited. Her Hollow counterpart charged at him in her place.

"This will be your first battle! Here I come!" his Hollow spirit roared, slashing with his blades one after another, violently.

Ichigo blocked as his blush settled—just barely, before he would've received a cross-cut to his chest. The shockwave of the impact forced him into the trees, punching him through endless pine needles and sharp branch endings.

A static buzz echoed from behind, jolting through Ichigo's ears. His eyelids stuttered as burning steel tore through his back.

Red sprayed against blue.

"ARRGHH" he yelled, and flash stepped into the air, brushing past more needles and twigs.

He tensed for agonising seconds as his wounds stopped bleeding.

Tensa Zangetsu was much more powerful just then, at least twice as much compared to in the Dangai. It would make sense since there were two blades now, but it was strange that both spirits were skilled with them—Ichigo never trained in dual wield before.

His Hollow finally reappeared several meters in front of him. "Are you done running?"

"Bite me." Ichigo raised his Katana, charging spirit energy into the edge. "Getsuga Tensho!" he cried and released the attack.

A skyscraper sized moon-fang of darkness tore through trees and buildings. His spirit responded with a flick of his white katana, dispelling the spirit energy into a swirl around himself.

Then he charged again, at a much greater speed than before.

Ichigo's bones shook as their blades clashed back and forth, sending shockwaves through his inner world. His Hollow spirit's strikes were heavy and wide, giving him much time to adjust his position to block or dodge.

Parry, parry, dodge, counterstrike, dodge. He kept it up, backing away with each dodge.

It was impossible to keep up. Every slash he parried, another strike was already lined up behind it—thanks to the extra blade.

Close to his short-term limit, Ichigo flashed back a good twenty meters.

"You seem to be getter better… but with the way you're using those blades, you might as well only have one arm!" Tensa Zangetsu shouted at him, dashing forward, not letting Ichigo breath a second.

He growled, and picked up the rate of parrying and dodging, eventually finding an opening for a good strike. He twisted his stance as he parried another blow, and brought up the Wakizashi up for a slash.

But the blade caught against his other arm, cutting deep into his forearm. He stepped back and scowled at his blades.

Fighting with them was impossible.

The swords almost taunted at him, humming with amusement in a black void.

Tensa Zangetsu smirked, and then raised both blade. The white Daisho pair glowed as they sliced the air in a cross-cut motion.

Ichigo squinted, blinded for a second from the light released by the move. As the light dimmed, a massive, white cross of spirit energy tore through the inner world, headed at him.

He barely threw himself out of it's way—though the attack still burned part of his left arm. He lifted his blades again, readying for another clash, breathing heavily.

He recited the first half of his release command in his mind. There wasn't even a damn clue for what word would come next.

's futon, reading a Chappy romance novel, glancing at Ichigo every few minutes. Even after five hours, he fought in his inner world for whatever reason his thick head had dug up. Urahara and captain Ukitake had insisted to not forcibly draw him out until whatever he and his Zanpukto had to settle was finished. She could only sit at his side with her Chappies, watching him take injury after injury.

More sparks of black spirit energy danced across his face and body.

Her forehead creased as another gash opened up on his left hip. Blood dripped onto the polished wooden floors. Hundreds of gashes appeared and disappeared on their own without the need of healing kido during the hours—a jagged web of veins followed by a coating of a white substance combined with indigo spirit energy appeared to seal up the wounds after a few minutes.

She reached out with her palms and shaped her spirit energy for a healing Kido. It wasn't necessary, but his regeneration had a long delay. Any serious injury would result in quite the bloodloss, but perhaps it would be different in that case. Or not.

Footsteps echoed through the room as her brother appeared beside her.

"Rukia," her brother greeted.

She stood and turned to face him. He still hadn't change out of his Shihakshou or captains' Haori. "Brother, Have you come to check up on Ichigo?"

"The head captain has requested a report on his status," he said, stoic as ever. "Has he shown any sign of waking?" Whether it was part of his own Kuchiki mask or just typical blankness wasn't clear. It seemed to be the latter.

Rukia's face dropped, scowling an inch. "No, right now the rate of injury seems to be at it's worst."

"I see." He said simply, and let the seconds run.

That was all he had to say, as usual.

Or, apparently this time, he did. "You should get some rest. it's getting late. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Thank you for your concern, I'll be headed off shortly." The words left her mouth automatically, practiced a thousand times in front of the mirror just for those stuck-up nobles. They saw right through of course.

Her Brother eyed Ichigo's Zanpukto pair for a few seconds, almost respectfully—a rare expression he ever held. There were few times Rukia could recall when he showed any respect at all. First was when he received a direct order from the head captain, and the only other time was when he paid respect to his parents and Hisana.

He turned, meandering out the room, but spoke over his shoulder. "The guards are also having problems keeping his father out of the compound—just so you know in case someone sneaks in tonight"

Rukia blinked. Was that a joke? She eyed his lighter gait as she let his comment drop, but couldn't helping thinking of Ichigo's dad—a typical Shiba male raised in their mad household. Eccentric, over-the-top, and charismatic. In ways he was much like kaien; Ichigo's apparent cousin. The reveal paralyzed her the other month, and even now, echoes of guilt haunt her. Not only did she kill her mentor, she killed one of Ichigo's family members.

She breathed, and shoved the guilt into a closet where it belonged.

A faint, blue-purple glow pulsed through the room from Ichigo's Wakizashi.

Warmth flooded her body and ignited her core as she gasped, collapsing onto her knees as the heat filled her core. She turned to Ichigo. His longer orange hair, strong jaw, flawless skin, and hard muscles called out to her. Not only that, he was her Ichigo—her strawberry.

She crawled up to him and put a hand on his soft yet chiseled face. Heart pounding, she closed the distance between their lips and kissed him. She brushed her tongue against his lips, savoring his taste. Warm, strangely sweet—and soft. She kissed him for several seconds, pushing herself into his hard body.

Then the warmth faded.

What the hell was she doing? Her eyes shot open and she jolted away from his unconscious form. Jumping up, she picked up her Chappies and walked out of the room before her brother or someone walked in.

She breathed and repeated two words to herself. Nothing happened. But the strawberry will have a lot of explaining to do.

Ichigo panted as he burst out of the icy lake, shivering before his spirit energy heated his body back up. It seemed like Tensa enjoyed tossing him into the lake, ever since she took her first turn. That was at least several hours ago. No signs of passing time existed in this inner world; the sky remained blue without a trace of a sun.

For a second, images of a storm-filled sky and hurricane winds filled his mind.

Light laughter rang through his ears, shaking him out of the trance.

Ichigo scowled. He underestimated her at first. She was as strong as his Hollow spirit, if not more powerful, but they seemed to be roughly equal; just complete opposites in their fighting styles.

"Had enough yet ichigooo?" she taunted, pushing out her breasts. "Maybe we should skip this and get to the fun part."

He blushed for the countless time. "Thats not going to happen! I'm getting that damn release command even if I have to beat it out of you two!"

"So are you saying you like it rough?"

He growled, not risking saying anything else, for she could turn anything he said back against him. He learned that, painfully, when they fought during their turns earlier. He lost almost every bout—every single bout—in their clash of words and blade.

"Hmmmmmph," she breathed, pouting. "Nothing to say? Is my Ichigo broken?" she asked, then fired another wave of blue-purple energy at him without pausing. Her attack shot through the air much like his Getsuga Tensho, and was shaped similarly, except was less defined and more like a beam of reishi.

He flash stepped away, then charged at her with his Katana outstretched.

She dodged and parried every slash and stab with unbelievable agility and grace. Tiny flicks of her wrist and body outmaneuvered him, outclassing clunky throws of his arms.

He flash stepped between strikes, careful to not rely on his short sword or he'd cut himself again.

Slash, stab, flash step.

He repeated the pattern whenever opening appeared, which happened on the rare occasion when she twirled excessively, or paused in her chaotic rhythm. Too bad her quick and small movements smeared her form into blur of white and blue. He hadn't even cut her once, and received several lashes each time they met to clash.

She appeared behind him a blink of white-purple light and uppercut him again, spraying blood into the air.

Then before he could react, she spun, harshly kicking him down into the lake again.

Cold water raged around him as he sank, soothing his tiring body. His muscles screamed, his lungs burned, and his ribs nearly snapped from that last blow. How could she be so strong? He would've laughed if it weren't for the water he had to keep out of his airways.

Oh, he could breath underwater here. But that was irrelevant, because that damn release command was still a mystery. He had to get it. He'd do anything to obtain it. He needed that power—the power to protect. However, he was at his limit. He'd pass out soon, in a struggle for those last words.

The only relief was that his wounds healed at a ridiculous rate for some reason.

He breathed in several mouthfuls of water, and burst out of the lake once again, landing in the field. He replayed his mental recording of all times their blades clashed, all the times their blades met, all the times their eyes met. They were part of him, and so was that damn release command.

His Hollow spirit embodied his instinct and will to fight, his will to protect.

What was her embodiment?

He held out both blades and shouted a release command in a rush of words, barely coherent. "Tensa Zangetsu!" he finished and raised his spiritual pressure.

Nothing. The black pair remained sealed.

"Dammit!" he swore into the clearing and slumped to the grass.

His beautiful sword spirit appeared in font of him, smiling. "You almost got it, but too bad your wording was wrong," she said and sauntered over. "Also your time's up—for a while now."

Damn. "So does that mean I'm going to have to try again another time?"

"Nah, since you were so close…" she trailed off, undoing the knots of her see-through dress.

His eyes widened. Dread sank into his stomach like a boulder.

"W-Wait, I'm sure I can get it just give me-" he urged and tried to stand, but slumped back to the ground, defeated by his own exhaustion.

She closed the distance and stood over him. He looked up at her, blushing at the view up her dress. Sweat coated her skin in a shine.

He swallowed.

She took off her white dress and pinned him to the ground with her shiny, sweaty body. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Since you were so close, I'll tell you the release command—if you do what I want."

He swallowed again.

Her lips descended on his, giving him a long, thorough kiss. He resisted at first but soon her sweet taste took over again.

Blood rushed up his neck as she kissed and rubbed against him. It felt good—way too good. Heat built up in his core, and soon he was tightly pressed against her slick skin. Her musky, lavender aroma assaulted him, engulfing his mind as she moaned and rhythmically glided on him.

She ended the kiss and moved down his body, tearing open his tattered Shihakshou.

"N-No… Wai…" he stuttered and trailed off as her soft hand massaged his waist through his bulging underclothes. Another person—or spirit—touched him there, in his special place. It felt so wrong, yet felt so great. He just let it happen.

"Good boy." She ripped off the remainder of his clothing, and his dick sprang to life, slapping against her stomach.

She ran her other hand against his muscled chest down to his waist, and took hold of his throbbing member. She rubbed him down and licked the tip. He let out an involuntary moan as a wave of tingly pleasure washed through him.

"I knew you wanted it Ichigo," she said, licking again. "Seems like all I have to do is beat you senseless till you stop resisting."

"W-Wha-" he said, but inhaled sharply as her mouth enveloped his manhood.

He never felt something so pleasing. Her warm, soft, wet opening glided along his member. Her tongue massaged and rubbed against his length.

Ichigo let out a high pitched breath of pleasure.

She applied more pressure and sucked on him even more, intensifying the buzz prickling through his body. "Ooooooooooooooooh more," he breathed, arcing his back, pushing himself into her.

She moved her mouth over his cock faster as her tongue danced around his length. He moaned more, and even more when she kept it up, increasing her speed as more saliva pooled down her mouth. She licked, sucking down even inch of his cock, firing several bursts of intense bliss through his system.

A stab of heat built up that wanted to be released.

"S-Stop- Stop it or I'm going to-" He released everything into her mouth.

He panted, and sank into the grass with a hand on his forehead. His fatigue already passed his limit.

He heard her swallow, igniting another spark of lust, but his consciousness already slipped.

She leaned down to him and whispered the full release command as darkness engulfed his vision.