Disclaimer: The bleach boys belong to Tite Kubo, not to me.

Warnings: Blood, vampires, wereanimals, violence, dub-con, angst, and yaoi (m/m) scenes of an explicit nature.

Summary: The night of the full moon arrives, and Ichigo faces the first in a series of events that will change his life forever.

A/N: Okay, so I've noticed a discrepancy here; Orihime was supposed to have gone home, but for some reason I left her at the clinic! Sometimes I just want to slap myself. It makes more sense to me to leave her under observation until after the full moon, considering she was bitten, so I will eventually get around to editing the earlier chapters which contradict everything I've written since that one plot blunder. ^_^ My apologies for messing that up. Oh, and please let me know if the jump here is too jarring. It won't change anything right now, but it will help me make informed decisions on later fics. Thank you!

oOoOoOoOoOo

Morning came and went with no time to chase down Rukia, or Renji, as Ichigo was left in charge of the family clinic while his father pitched in up at the big hospital. Several people had suffered smoke inhalation, and minor burns obtained during the fire. The little boy Ichigo had rescued had roused, and was none the worse for his experience, though he was being kept under observation for the time being. The mother, however, had yet to say a coherent word.

Nothing too strenuous turned up at the clinic that day, but even so Ichigo was bogged down with double the usual workload. It meant he only had a few moments to spare in idle conversation with Inoue, who was cheerful in the face of the upcoming full moon. That reminded him of his own bite, which hadn't bothered him for a while. When he checked on his wound he found the mark faded beyond what it should have been. He probably wouldn't even scar. Maybe it was a sign he should just convince Inoue to leave with him. They could go find Grimmjow and Ulquiorra; those two would take them in, and wouldn't demand either of them be killed should the worst come to pass.

But Ichigo just couldn't bring himself to do it. That kind of thing stank of a cowardice he had no wish to be a part of.

Denial became his close, personal friend, along with avoidance. Stubborn to the last, Ichigo didn't let himself think about the negative possibilities. Life, friendship, family, these things were so much more important than committing genocide against a people who had shown themselves to be as diverse as humanity. Inoue couldn't end up on the wrong end of Rukia's sword. Ichigo wouldn't allow it. He'd break with the Reapers, and take Orihime with him to safety, should the need arise. Which it wouldn't. He had to believe that.

At the heart of Ichigo's determination to carry on as usual was the memory of serious green eyes telling him that he'd never Turn. That Ichigo himself was not in danger of becoming a werewolf. It gave him the strength he needed in such a trying time. If all else failed, he would be strong enough to fight for justice, for what was right. Anything less than that was unacceptable.

centeroOoOoOoOoOo/center

The dreams plagued Ichigo every single time he drifted into sleep. Blue eyes, green. Didn't really matter, for now Ichigo was convinced that both of the Nightbeasts had somehow stolen into his mind, his thoughts, and whether it was through vampire, werepanther, or some other, nameless ability, he no longer cared. As the days and nights flew past he regarded them with a type of fondness, for even as his daylight hours grew almost too much to cope with, during those moments – imagined as they were – he felt safe. Horny, but safe, and alive, and the fraction of a second worth of peace he felt when he awakened each time made everything else seem somehow bearable.

centeroOoOoOoOoOo/center

By the morning of the full moon Ichigo was unsurprisingly feeling the effects of too much responsibility. Stressed, his mind laden with the sickening knowledge that this could be the last day Inoue Orihime ever saw – maybe, if Ichigo was wrong about her not Turning– weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

So much for pretending that everything was hunky-dory.

Rukia had been scarce for the past few days, other than turning up for 'girl-time' with Inoue one afternoon – during which Chad was evicted from the room – and a failed attempt on her part to convince Ichigo to forgive her for treating him like a helpless child, he'd not seen her. She was still adamant he stay inside the town walls, that he sit around doing nothing. That stubborn attitude of hers probably helped on the battlefield against aggressive, dangerous enemies, but made it difficult to be her friend. Rukia refused to bend even the slightest amount, which left Ichigo frustrated at his inability to convince her to let him help.

So they didn't talk, and he worried about everything alone, and in silence.

Part of him was glad that tonight he'd know – they'd all know – whether there would be a fight between Reapers and newly-Turned (in as much as a bunch of bound, helpless people could really resist being murdered, Ichigo was struggling to see it any other way by then), and which side Ichigo would end up on by morning. Or that's how it felt; tonight would be the deciding factor, and tomorrow his entire world could be changed forever. Once the sun rose he'd have taken those first steps on the path of his destiny, and maybe then this sense of being pulled in two directions at once would finally be gone.

Ichigo threw himself into last minute preparations for the full moon. With his father still busy at the main hospital it fell to Ichigo and his sisters to ready everyone for the possibility that one or more of the survivors would Turn tonight. Only four people – one of which was Orihime herself, another Ichigo – had lived past the initial danger period of being bitten, and Ichigo still hadn't spoken to anyone other than Urahara about his own little mishap. Therefore there were only the three rooms to secure against Nightbeast attacks.

Nervous over the outcome of this night, Ichigo checked and double-checked all of the safety measures he could put into place, from the reinforced cuffs which would chain the survivors to their metal-framed beds for the night, to the security doors of the cells themselves. Karin and Yuzu were both over friends houses, so someone would be around to open up in the morning should anything go wrong, and Isshin was expected to arrive back before sunset to oversee his usual responsibilities.

Tension singing in his veins as the daylight slowly faded away, and time ran out, Ichigo found himself constantly glancing out of the nearest window to wherever he happened to be at the time, his thoughts circling around his new friends. The ones his Reaper friends would try to kill on sight. Was it really fair to assume that all monsters were monstrous? Or was it only the newly Turned? It seemed difficult to believe that Starrk would have offered to take Orihime under his wing if that were true.

Just when Ichigo was starting to worry that his father had been detained, and the task of watching over the survivors would fall solely on his shoulders, Kurosaki Isshin appeared out of nowhere with a foot aimed at his son's head. Anyone else would have thought the man's approach to tough love to be extreme, but Ichigo merely dodged the sneak-attack having heard a slight rustle of fabric and the scuff of shoes on polished tile. Paranoia kept most of his braincells in working order, after all. The elder Kurosaki crashed into the wall, knocking a framed print onto the floor which cracked the glass in the process.

"Don't you think your patients are more important than some crazy test of manhood, eh goat-face?" Ichigo asked, one finger scratching at his ear as he glanced away from the crumbled figure toward the corridor through the open door of his office.

"Oh, my son! Your mother would be so proud if she were here to see how easily you deflected me!" Isshin babbled excitedly, tears streaking his face and his hands waving madly in the air.

Ichigo sighed, barely suppressing the urge to throw one of the files from his desk at the man. Only the knowledge that such actions would do nothing to shut the gibbering idiot up stayed Ichigo's hand. It really wasn't worth the effort.

"All three attack victims are locked down, Chad wanted to stay the night, if you'll let him, and I've already made the calls to the authorities," Ichigo ticked each point off on a different finger, and then shuffled through the loose paperwork remaining on his desk. There was nothing important to impart to his father that couldn't wait until the man had read through the files waiting for him on his own desk.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence then, and Ichigo eventually looked up to find his father staring at him intently. Very seldom in his life had Ichigo ever seen that particular look on the man's face, he'd acted the fool so often.

"What?"

"I'd understand if you wanted to wait this one out, you know." Isshin stated, his voice low, and strangely grown-up.

Swallowing past a lump in his throat, Ichigo shook his head and looked away. It was too hard to meet that gaze. "I'd just be pacing around upstairs so I might as well stay for a while and make myself useful."

"Are you prepared to watch what might happen to your friend? You know what the standard procedure is for those who contract the virus," Isshin asked, still serious, though his tone was oddly soothing against Ichigo's nerves.

"She won't Turn, Dad," Ichigo offered with a small smile.

"You know that for sure, do you?"

centeroOoOoOoOoOo/center

When the moon rose that night Ichigo was sitting across from Chad, between them they held each of Orihime's hands. She was secured to the bed with reinforced leather straps, but she'd been made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. The sun had set less than an hour ago, but the moon had only just risen. Ichigo found himself tensing, his nerves frayed beyond recognition as he waited for the first signs of the Turning. Nothing happened right away, and then continued not happening for the next fifteen minutes.

Dare he hope? After all that worrying were they all going to be okay? The three friends glanced around between themselves, relief beginning to wash over them as the idea that they were safe finally registered.

Then the first howling rose. Distant enough that Ichigo was certain none of the survivors in the clinic was responsible, but loud enough that he knew it was coming from inside the town walls.

On his feet faster than his brain could process it, Ichigo threw a reassuring smile at the others. "I'm just going to make sure everyone else is okay. Looks like you'll be fine now, Inoue."

The door unlocked with the aid of the key he'd been wearing around his neck. He hesitated a moment, then glanced back at the silent form of his giant friend, Chad. "Here," he tossed the rope necklace with its slender piece of metal across the room, "Just don't lose that, or let her out of those straps until the sun rises, yeah?"

Chad nodded slowly, his eyes holding worlds of words he'd never say aloud. Ichigo grinned, understanding what Chad wasn't saying all too well.

"I'll see you later," Ichigo told him, then waved at the room over his shoulder as he walked out.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The moonlight was exceptionally bright when Ichigo slipped out of the back door. The Reapers had their hands full checking the hospital and both clinics between them for the Turned, so it was possible that they'd be slow to react to the very real danger of older Nightbeasts making their way into town under the power of the moon.

Ichigo'd been practising for this with Urahara. It was because of what he'd seen when he fought Starrk and the others that he'd known he needed to get faster, and stronger. To protect his loved ones, his friends, and this town from the things of nightmares he had to fight better than they did. With the weight of fear he'd been struggling under dissipated now, Ichigo was determined to show Rukia and Renji that he should be out there patrolling at night, too. He wasn't just a human with the ability to summon a sword; he could damned well wield it. He was a Hunter.

Another howl pierced the night, this time accompanied by a high-pitched scream. Eyebrows drawn into a scowl, Ichigo rounded the house on the corner and spotted the source of the haunting sound. Two shadowy figures, one bulky and covered in fur, the other much smaller, and far frailer, writhed together under the silvery glow of the moon.

Before his eyes had even registered that it was too late for the unfortunate victim, Ichigo had summoned Zangetsu to his right hand, and planted his foot on the side of the werewolf's head in a devastating round-house. Or it would have been, had his target been merely human. Instead of snapping the thing's neck it barely tilted the huge, shaggy head to the side. Ichigo had only managed to make the creature change it's focus from the dead body in it's arms, to himself. Well, he wasn't going to offer to arm wrestle one of these things any time soon, that was for sure.

"You picked the wrong town, asshole," Ichigo grumbled as his arm lashed out, the over-sized blade swinging through the air with deceptive ease.

Clawed hands – and they were hands, not paws – swiped at him as though the 'Beast didn't even see the weapon, but the snarling turned into screams of rage and pain as Zangetsu cut through fingers and neck like a hot knife through butter. Panting, Ichigo watched the corpse hit the ground with a muffled thud, before melting into furred sludge, and eventually disintegrating; the powder drifting on the night air.

Urgh. That had to be the single most disgusting thing he'd ever seen with his own two eyes, and considering his day job, let alone his personal experience with Orihime's cooking, that was saying something. And the smell! If he hadn't been expecting it...

Glad soul swords didn't need to be cleaned, Ichigo spun in a circle, eyes avoiding the girl's body that lay in a grizzly, and grotesque heap on the ground at his feet. There was no point letting himself think about her, or recognising her, but just knowing he'd been too late to save her would torment him enough already, without him breaking down and proving himself as useless as the Reapers believed him to be. Later, when the sun rose and the battles were over until the next night, there'd be time to mourn.

Moving swiftly from shadowy recess to garden wall, he searched Karakura Town. Not only with his eyes, which were able to see remarkably well in the silvery light of the moon overhead, but with his other senses. That part of his aura which allowed him to summon Zangetsu stretched out around him as he forced energy into his seeking. It was dangerous, he knew, for in doing so like this he risked being 'felt' in return, but he was fairly confident of something that he'd not been the last time he'd been out hunting; the really strong monsters weren't likely to be prowling the streets looking for an opportune meal. Starrk and his wolves, the Pack, would not be here, whoever or whatever was would fall under his blade like that pathetically easy-to-kill ithing/i he'd just put out of it's misery.

How or why Ichigo knew this – and truly it was closer to knowing than hoping – he didn't question the feeling, instead going with it. There was plenty enough to worry about without adding fear of intelligent, speaking creatures who were not so different from himself to the mix.

A scrabbling sound drew Ichigo's attention, but it turned out to be nothing scarier than a cat hiding in a scraggly bush, the pair of yellow eyes making his heart beat faster before his brain acknowledged the utter lack of spiritual pressure. Certainly there was nothing too close which would warrant his attention, and with that in mind Ichigo extended his hunting grounds by several blocks at a time.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Time passed, fraught with dangers he'd met head-on over and again. Zangetsu had cleansed more Nightbeasts in the past hour than Ichigo'd seen before all rolled into one. The neighbourhood had quieted considerably. The creatures he'd defeated couldn't even communicate, let alone function like the humans they'd once been. Whatever brain activity had survived their transformation it seemed it didn't extend to understanding that a sword was a dangerous weapon. Nearly a fortnight ago he'd faced more frightening odds when he'd confronted the wolves!

Debating with himself over the pros and cons of leaving the relative safety of the town itself as his confidence soared, Ichigo felt a subtle tug from the direction of the dark forest. Not only was this stronger than anything else he'd felt tonight – including the occasional bursts he was picking up from Rukia and Renji – but he knew this 'flavour'. Recognition flared through his veins, his head swivelling without conscious thought to pinpoint Grimmjow's location. If not for Grimmjow's demand that he remember this feeling of charged heat and raw power he wouldn't have been able to distinguish it now from the myriad of other, much more obvious signatures scattered throughout the wooded area just outside the town gates.

Every step into the night was another mark against him, he knew that, but something inside of him was practically howling with glee at the idea of exploring that wooded territory on a night of the full moon. When all of the monsters were bound to be out there, prowling. Hunting, just like he was.

Ichigo tilted his head to the side, and inhaled through his nose, instincts he'd never known suddenly demanded he check the air for the scent of danger, even as his own reiatsu unfurled further, the force of it simultaneously falling until it felt weaker, softer, more tamed than he'd ever managed to attain under Urahara's watchful eye. The Nightbeasts were everywhere around him, or so his senses informed him. Questioning himself, and his abilities was another thing to be pushed to one side for now, he realised; the night was dangerous enough without doubts, or distractions.

The excitement rearing its head was another matter, however, and one he had no defence against. In the same moment as Ichigo admitted to himself he'd been hoping to see the werepanther again, he also came to notice that the night felt more alive than ever before. Was it the thrill of breaking the rules which gave him this clarity of sight, sound, and scent, or was something else at work here? His gaze rose to the glowing sphere in the sky, easy enough to make out between the branches of the trees around him as he moved deeper into the forest, making no sound at all as his feet strangely avoided every dry leaf and fallen twig. He couldn't help but remember his worry over the past few days, and how he'd dreaded the thought of being controlled by the moon. Of becoming the very thing he'd set out to destroy. Even that thought was not enough to deter him from his path as he slipped away from his friends and family.

There was a pressure against the edges of his awareness for a moment, gone, and then back again stronger than before. Ichigo sucked in a breath at the sensual feel of it as the familiar energy poured over him the second time. It was like standing in the rain during the height of Summer. So warm, and comforting, and perfect.

Ichigo paused, his ears strained to their limit as he listened carefully for any sign of threat. He was so close now, so close. Just because Grimmjow had claimed that he was a member of his and Ulquiorra's clan, or whatever, didn't mean the rest of the Nightbeasts were aware of it. Having been attacked too many times already tonight he knew better than to blindly follow the tempting tendrils he was trailing after.

A rustle in a patch of low laying shrubs sent him into a defensive crouch, Zangetsu a comforting weight in his hand as Ichigo peered into the darkness around him. The moonlight only seemed to thicken the shadows, and make it harder to see this far into the forest. Tension sang through his shoulders, made its way down along his spine, and spread into his thighs as he readied himself for an attack; though there was no sign of another's reiatsu... Only Grimmjow's, but the werepanther was too far away for this to be him.

Frown in place, Ichigo tried to ignore the burst of adrenalin which made him practically vibrate with the need to pit himself against something dangerous, a fight more demanding than the paltry little Nightbeasts he'd met so far tonight. Where the craving for battle came from he wasn't entirely sure, but again, he trusted his instincts. A slight breeze stirred the trees, and lifted the fine hairs against the nape of his neck. Ichigo held himself steady, ignoring the bizarre urge to close his eyes and purr at the pleasant sensation.

"Hm, yer not much ta look at, are ya?" The cool voice from behind spun Ichigo around, sword held steady despite his surprise and uncomfortable position. He was not expecting the red glint from the shadows – there and gone again – nor the shock of silver hair when his stalker finally revealed himself. A long, grey cloak, or robe, covered the tall, thin stranger from neck to sandalled feet, the long, full sleeves hiding whatever he might be holding in his hands. No obvious weapons were on display, however, which seemed odd considering the situation.

Ichigo frowned in concentration as he curiously used his unstable powers to 'taste' this creature. Whatever else the being was, human just wasn't part of his make-up. There was far too much energy though it took more effort than was pretty for Ichigo to sense it, even as close as he was. Ichigo's own aura had been suppressed enough to hide him from his friends, but this man made his new-found ability look like child's play. If not for the sound he'd made as he passed through the undergrowth Ichigo would never have noticed him.

A creepy smile that curled both edges of the man's thin lips upward spread smoothly across a pale face, tilted as though to examine Ichigo, but how he could see in the dark with his eyes closed, Ichigo couldn't imagine. Uncertain why they were just staring – relatively speaking – at each other, and not liking being crouched so close to the ground with the other above him, the young Hunter slowly rose, Zangetsu still between them, but the sharp tip lowered toward the forest floor.

"Ya got yer mamma's eyes, though," the man continued, amusement seeping from his every pore as he observed Ichigo's change in stance.

"You knew my mother?" Ichigo growled, instantly raising the point of his sword again in a threatening manner. It had to be some evil ploy to throw him, and the sad truth was it was working. His insides were churning in a sickening way, as though a swarm of insects were writhing around in his guts, trying to find a way out.

"I know a lotta folks," the man answered, his smile impossibly widening further.

"Who are you?" Ichigo's instincts told him this man was dangerous, incredibly so, but other than taking an unwanted trip down Memory Lane, he couldn't pinpoint why. The whole package was just plain freaky, from the smirking grin to the permanently closed eyelids.

The man dipped his head as though he were bowing from the neck up, silver strands falling over his closed eyes. "I'm afraid ma name's not gonna mean much to ya," he straightened again smile still in place, but his eyes open just enough to show Ichigo a colour so pale they looked unreal in the moonlight. "Ichimaru Gin, at'cha service."

There was something decidedly off about this Gin character.

"How did you know my mother?" Ichigo's suspicions were beginning to grow with every passing second.

"My, we're all full a questions, aren't we?" Gin asked pleasantly. As through they were not courting danger by merely standing around in the dark on the night of the full moon.

"What the hell're ya doing this close to town, ya crazy fox?"

Both men turned, Ichigo with embarrassingly less poise, as Grimmjow stepped out of the tree line in his armoured panther form. Intense blue eyes barely acknowledged Ichigo before flicking back to pin the silver-haired man in place.

"We was just talkin' about shared acquaintances, and such," Gin replied casually, false innocence dripping from each word. He held both hands out in front of himself as though to prove his point, the baggy sleeves of the grey robe falling back and drooping around his forearms. Bony fingers waggled playfully for a moment before sliding back into the folds of material.

"He said he knew my mother," Ichigo stated flatly, some of the tension fading away from his shoulders with Grimmjow's presence.

Grimmjow's lips peeled back in a silent snarl at the news, blue eyes fairly glowing with whatever emotion he was feeling. It left Ichigo with a sudden urge to step back, but he trusted the Nightbeast enough to hold his ground.

"How could ya know 'is mother?" The werepanther asked, his voice low and gravelly.

The sound worked even better than Grimmjow's being there at dispelling the unease Ichigo had been feeling, and somehow it made the night seem brighter. Less scary.

"Now's not the time ta be divulgin' that sorta information," Gin turned his face one way, then the other, as though looking at both of them through his heavily slitted eyes. "There's a Reaper headed this a way, so maybe we can take this conversation elsewhere?"

Shocked at the revelation, Ichigo struggled to find the aura Gin spoke of, but it took several seconds to recognise Rukia's power signature. She was shielding tighter than he'd known she could. The short woman was probably attempting to spy on him, though hopefully this was a situation she'd never be able to even guess at. Getting away before she caught him talking to the enemy was his first priority at the moment.

"This way," Grimmjow slunk into the shadows his tail twitching in agitation, and it took everything Ichigo had to follow. All of the dread and guilt he'd managed to shove to one side were rearing their heads all over again.