Izuru gave a tiny sound of pain. So this was Kyoka Suigetsu's true power… God, it hurt. He and the other Lieutenants, ordered to seek and destroy the hyogoku, had charged Aizen as soon as Momo had used her kido to discover that he had the dark orb on his person.

Aizen had released his zanpak-to, and all hell broke loose. Izuru knew instinctively to drop his sword, or else he could be tricked into cutting an ally. He hoped the pain he was feeling was the hallucinations and not one of his friends being fooled.

The atmosphere was terrible, though. He could hear battle cries and the clashing of steel, but he couldn't see through the impenetrable mist surrounding him.

No… Izuru begged mentally as he felt himself slipping into another nightmare. In these dreams, a thousand ways to destroy him were used. He could feel every cut and burn as though it were real until he was screaming for death to take him. Then suddenly, he would awaken, whole, but it still hurt so much.

He closed his eyes and braced himself for the pain, but it never came. Even the injuries he had felt earlier were gone, a simple memory now. His mind was suddenly filled with a ghastly wail that almost seemed inhuman.

"Izuru?" there was a tantalizingly familiar voice breathing warmly against his ear. "It's your turn to get him, right? Are you awake?"

Izuru instinctively stumbled out of the bed (where had that come from?) and went towards the noise. This dream… this was the first time he had started out whole and unbroken, even comfortable. Izuru glanced out the window and saw the moon reflecting brightly off mounds of snow. Was he back in the Seireitei? So it seemed. He turned to look at the other occupant of the bed, and his heart stopped.

Momo Hinamori was in his bed.

Momo Hinamori, her dark hair forming a curtain around her sleepy eyes was blinking up at him expectantly, levering herself up on one elbow.

Momo Hinamori, the girl Izuru had been in love with for longer than he'd been a Soul Reaper. While Izuru knew his feelings certainly weren't the biggest secret in the Seireitei, he had thought he had been going about it very subtly recently. He didn't allow himself to pine or long for her, even though the very thought of her made him ache with longing. Why was Aizen doing this to him? This certainly wasn't torture.

"Were you having a nightmare?" she asked him. "I had trouble waking you up… Izuru, aren't you going to get him?"

Izuru's neck snapped around to the shrieking that his mind had been tuning out. A polished wooden cradle was creaking ominously. Izuru very much wished he had his zanpak-to as he walked over warily to see what monstrous horror Aizen had waiting for him.

In the cradle was, instead of some nightmarish beast, an infant. His stark blond hair contrast with his bright red face as he wailed. Izuru paused. What was he supposed to do with this baby? Bring it to Momo, presumably. Realizing he'd never held a baby, Izuru paused once again, but his hands seemed to know what to do. Those strong, reliable hands scooped up the infant and took it over to the bed. Realizing that he was being gratified, the baby stopped crying and opened up his eyes. Brown. Warm, soft and brown. With blond hair…? And Momo, lying in his bed without a care in the world… A question asked itself in Izuru's head. It burned in his stomach, begging him to voice it.

Izuru laid the baby down next to Momo when he looked up, and once again, his heart nearly stopped. (If a coronary WAS in Aizen's plans for Izuru, he was doing a damned good job of it.)

Momo had slid the robe off her arms so it was hanging around her waist, leaving her utterly bare. Izuru found himself completely unable to look away as a pale blush rose to his face. This wasn't fair at all. He knew it was a hallucination, but he was certainly reacting as though it were real.

Among male Soul Reapers, Momo was actually fairly sought after. A lot of new faces, fresh from the Academy, would have given up a few fingers to be placed in the 5th Squad and under her jurisdiction. Izuru was also pretty sure that most of them would have given an arm to be this close to a half-naked Lieutenant Hinamori.

"Izuru?" the blond man secretly wished she would never stop saying her name. "Coming?"\She lifted up the comforter, and Izuru crawled in stiffly. This was too tempting, too intimate, too close… too close to Momo? There was no such thing!

Her skin looked luminescent in the moonlight pouring through the window, and the contrast with her dark hair was phenomenal. Izuru made a valiant attempt to avert his eyes and succeeded, this time locking on the tiny blond head that Momo was tucking into her breasts. "Kazuki, you're always so hungry!" Momo laughed as the infant suckled greedily.

"I—" Izuru tried to take the tightness out of his voice as he finally managed to ask his question, "is he mine?"

"No," Momo said, and Izuru's world, even though it was a dream, a hallucination, shattered. "He's ours…" Momo smiled and Izuru had never wanted to kiss her more than he did then.

"Kazuki…" Izuru whispered hoarsely. He was a father. This was his son. His and Momo's son. Izuru felt breathless as a feeling of selflessness overtook him. He cupped the little blond head in his hand, feeing the pulse. An electrifying feeling coursed through his body as a slender hand slid on top of his own. Izuru wrenched his ice blue eyes away from his son (oh, how lovely those words sounded!), and met Momo's soft, adoring brown eyes. Months ago, that adoration had been for one man and one man alone: Aizen. But now (he didn't care if this was a dream or hallucination) that adoration was all for him.

"Thank you, Izuru," her other hand twined through his hair, dragging gently. Her brown eyes flicked down to the tiny figure between them and Izuru felt a tightness in his throat. He couldn't have said anything even if he wanted to.

"I love you," Izuru felt his heart melt as she said these words. But they weren't real. She wasn't real. This was all Kyoka Suigetsu's doing. That knowledge broke him unlike any torture had been able to do. A hot tear slid down his nose.

"Oh, Izuru…" Momo sighed. She rose to her feet and put Kazuki back to bed. Izuru pondered for the unbearable minute alone. What was Aizen playing at? Overtaking him with desire? Weakening him through fulfillment? Try as he might, he couldn't get either of those ideas to work.

He felt Momo slip back into the bed and was electrified to feel that she hadn't replaced her robe. God, her skin was so soft against his! His eyes widened at the texture of her. He could feel every swell and dip on her beautiful figure.

"I love you," she whispered into his neck. Izuru immediately pulled her close. This was just a dream, right? It wasn't as though the real Momo would ever know. Izuru shut his eyes lazily as he tried to memorize the feeling of her skin and hair pouring lovingly over his chest. He took a deep breath of her scent, sweet and fresh as wildflowers.

Suddenly, Izuru was struck by a realization: Aizen was going to slaughter them. Not Izuru, but this beautiful woman and that child, his son; they were going to die in this dream and with them Izuru would die inside.

"Momo—" he whispered, panic rising in his voice. He put his hands on her waist, intent on pushing her off so he could take the dream faraway from his beloved and his son before anything could happen to them "—I shouldn't be here."

"Of course you should!" Izuru was once again overcome by the desire to kiss her as fiery determination flashed into her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"I—I don't belong here," Izuru felt his resolve weaken as Momo wrapped her legs around him to keep the blond man from dislodging her. "I don't want to see you get hurt and I don't want—" Izuru nearly choked on the emotions as he said the next word, "Kazuki… t-to get hurt either."

"Izuru…" there was a suddenly look of innocent sadness in her eyes. "Do you want—Are you saying you want to leave me?"

Izuru choked. "No, no, don't please, don't say that, Momo, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry…" he rushed as Momo swallowed bravely.

"People would think we're getting divorced," she whispered. "D-do you want—" Izuru felt as though he had been hit by a train in the most wonderful way. They were married. How in the world had that happened?

"No! No…" Izuru wrapped his arms back around her. "Don't say things like that…" he whispered into her hair.

"That's good… because I never want to leave you," she chuckled waterily, melting in his arms. Izuru could still detect a hint of tension in her body.

He shifted his face a few millimeters so he was kissing the top of her head. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, "so much…" Izuru felt her pull away momentarily, and suddenly she was kissing him.

Izuru made a noise as her fingers made butterfly touches across his chest. The overwhelming heat of her mouth made Izuru feel very vulnerable but at the same time unbelievably powerful. She tasted of mint and something wilder, and Izuru never thought he would be this close to Momo, with her fine, piano-like fingers running all over him, and her breath warming his cheek.

He looped his hand around her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair and drawing her even closer, and she dragged her lips in a blazing trail of fire across his cheek and down his neck. Izuru was sure his heart was going to leap out of his chest, but he really did not care. He could die right now and he still would—

Momo's hand had just closed around him and now he was absolutely sure he was going to have a heart attack and die the happiest man in the world.

He felt something pulling at him… no, he was waking up! He was going to miss what happened next! Consciousness came far too soon, however, and he was pulled, suddenly very sullen, from that wonderful world.

"Izuru? Please, please wake up!"

"Kira, goddammit!"

"He's up!"

Izuru blinked open wearily. "Momo…?" he whispered hoarsely. Where was she? Oh, God, had Aizen killed her? Was that his real torture?

"I'm right here, Izuru!" he felt a hand on his head. Taking in his surroundings, Izuru saw he was lying on top of one of the few buildings that hadn't been reduced to rubble. The sky was streaked with sunset and Momo herself was covered in grime and blood.

"Momo! Are you all right?!" Izuru asked, his eyes widening desperately. Momo turned away, shuddering. It took Izuru a minute to realize she was crying. Getting to his feet, Izuru was about to wrap his arms around her when a hand closed around his bicep. A grim-looking Hisagi pulled him aside.

"Leave her. She probably wants to be alone…" Hisagi sighed.

"What happened…?" Izuru asked, shaking some of the tiredness from his head.

"You—you got hit. Hard. We thought you'd died…" Hisagi looked over at the dark-haired girl who was barely moving, save for the mask of tears rolling steadily down her face. "She killed him."

Izuru snapped around to look at Hisagi.

"It was magnificent," he laughed bitterly. "Aizen was the one who got you, see. You had the hyogoku in your hands, and there was a blast and you sailed away with it… you were holding it when we finally got to you. We destroyed it…"

"So in the end… it wasn't Aizen making the hallucinations?" Izuru asked. He was struck by an idea, a stupid, out-there, far-fetched, and utterly wonderful idea.

"No," Hisagi shook his head. Izuru glanced down at the circular burn on his right hand where he must have held the orb. The hyogoku, an object meant to bend time and space… was it possible that, rather than a dream, he had been allowed a glimpse of his own future? A future where would Momo Hinamori become Momo Kira, and fall in love with him and marry him and have his child.

Izuru grinned suddenly. He doubted he could ever frown again, because one day, that dream, that wonderful dream would be his.

"Kira?!" Hisagi yelped at the sudden look of elation on his friend's face. "Momo, I think Kira hit his head harder than you thought."

Momo was in front of Izuru in seconds, peering up at his face. Izuru felt a familiar self-conscious blush rising to his face. Why did he have to turn so red whenever he saw her?

"Both of his pupils are the same size… Izuru? Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Can you hear me?" she reached up to examine his head and he caught her wrists in his hands. Momo herself reddened.

"Um…" Hisagi raised his scraggly eyebrows at the blond man, "I've got to go check on… ah… something!" he launched away from the building.

"Momo…" Izuru licked his dry lips tentatively. "You shouldn't have come here," he murmured to her, drawing her hands to his chest. Her fingers rested at the very end of his gi's neckline, tentatively resting on the barrier between fabric and flesh. If he moved her hands a centimeter, her fingers would be lying on his chest, just like his dream.

"If I hadn't come, you'd be dead," Momo told him, her eyes still sparkling with tears. Izuru was thrilled to notice that she was making no effort to release her hands from his grasp. He removed his unburned hand and, cupping her face, he tenderly thumbed a tear away.

"I'd rather die than see you this upset," he told her earnestly.

Momo's mouth was slightly open, her eyes were wide and still tearful, and her fingers were tense on Izuru's chest.

"Momo, I love you," Izuru hadn't meant to say it out loud, honestly. The words had been crashing through his mind when she looked at him, and they had crashed out of his lips accidentally. It was shockingly easy to say, and he held her gaze steadily.

"I—I mean—" Momo gulped. "Oh, Izuru…" Izuru grinned in spite of himself. She'd said the same thing in his dream. He had wanted to kiss her a thousand times in that dream, and now that he (okay, his future self) had done it, he was very eager to try again.

Izuru released her wrists and took her by the face, drawing her closely. Momo's eyes remained wide as his lips touched hers. He slid his hands down to entwine with her slender fingers, which hung limply at her side. Heat was spreading from his face to the rest of him, begging him to hold her closer, but he patiently pushed that desire back. They did have the rest of their lives. Finally, as the last rays of the dying sun bathed them, Izuru pulled away from her, trying to assess his work.

She wasn't crying. That was definitely an improvement. He leaned his forehead against hers, stroking her hair lovingly and smiling gently, as if to say 'Well?'

Momo was trying to think, trying to get her mind moving again. She had never been this close to a boy before, let alone kissed one, but she found that she liked it.

"I-Izuru…" she took her hands and hid her face in them, glancing shyly up at him through the haze of the blush she was trying to cover with her fingers.

Izuru decided it was really wonderful to fluster her as opposed to the other way around.

"I love you," he said again, gently taking her hands away from her face. "Momo?"

She made a little noise, and her face turned even redder.

Izuru kissed her again, this time on the cheek. "I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes," he reassured her again, driving her into a deeper color or red. "I don't want to come on too strongly…" his voice dropped into a whisper "but I love you, I need you, I want you and one day I'm going to marry you so I can spend the rest of my life with you."

At this point, Izuru judged it best to release Momo's hands which once again jumped to her face.

"And you're too pretty to cover yourself like that," Izuru told her, his smile still pleasant and gentle.

Momo opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a dry squeak. Blushing furiously, she stumbled off to find someone who didn't have icy blue eyes that turned into warm springs whenever he looked at her.

"Well," Izuru sighed to no one in particular. "It's a start."

-

Plotline borrowed from an IshiHime fic somewhere on here, but I tried to make the dialogue my own.

The title comes from the name Kazuki, which means dawn or first light.

As usual, critiques and reviews appreciated