Part 4

The gears of war were grinding quickly in preparation for the auspicious clash that would be initiated at spring's first thaw. A constant stream of missives was exchanged between the cabin and the Shinigami kingdom, meticulously planning the insurrection against Yhwach. Fortunately, Ichigo had been right when he'd said the Shinigami king would be amenable to the idea. They had already launched an underground campaign designed to win Quincy hearts for their forsaken prince, spreading rumors of his survival and the events leading up to his exile, as well as news of the Hollow cure he'd helped cultivate. The large scale logistics of which were still being worked out but things were looking positive.

In the meantime, Uryuu and the seven Shinigami had switched from felling Hollow to containing and treating them whenever possible. Shelters were being set up in the kingdom proper to monitor and reintegrate the cured. As a consequence of this philanthropy, each day seemed brighter than the last. The future had begun to take on a fragile, golden cast that bolstered Uryuu's motivation to do whatever he could to see it arrive in spite of inherent fears.

Yet, the sunny outlook didn't keep that fear from occasionally disturbing his sleep.

Uryuu blinked wearily as consciousness was rudely thrust upon him. Another reenactment of his father's death scene faded from the forefront as he took in his location. It was just a manifestation of his anxiety over the confrontation to come that generated the nightmares, he knew, but that didn't make them any less unnerving. The warm weight of Ichigo's loose hold on him, however, did wonders to calm Uryuu from the inside out. He gently moved the man's arm and sat up in the darkness. Ichigo was a constant source of strength and comfort but the prince knew better than to rely on him for his own sense of emotional wellbeing, no matter how tempting the prospect could be. It was good to have companions, but foolish to depend on them for everything.

He sighed at himself a moment later when he realized he was staring wistfully at Ichigo's relaxed profile. Again.

The sound of hushed voices carried through the closed door. Climbing out of bed, Uryuu sneaked into the hall and listened curiously, wondering who else would be up at this offensive hour. It was Byakuya and Kisuke in the common area, which was stationed between their opposing rooms. He peeked around the corner and spotted the two men standing close together beside the window. A delicate shaft of moonlight illuminated the private scene and Uryuu understood he had no right to observe them like this. Respectful consideration was easily overpowered by intrigue.

"Tomorrow?" the scientist asked.

"Rukia is waiting for me," reminded Byakuya, "And I will be more useful there, where I can personally oversee the war efforts. Besides that, you don't need me here anymore, now that you have your cure."

"We both know I didn't request you for bodyguard services alone."

It was the most serious Kisuke's voice had ever sounded. They stared into each other's eyes, a thousand things unsaid. A thousand more communicated without words. Uryuu's hand tightened where it clutched the curved archway. Their love was deeper than appearances ever conveyed, the proof of it streaming from the tension in their gaze. This was the goodbye they would not show to anyone else. The only one they would truly have regardless of what would be said tomorrow.

The tension burst like a shimmering bubble as Byakuya reached out to pull Kisuke into a yearning kiss. Uryuu covered his soundless gasp with a palm and stood transfixed as the reality of their feelings was ardently revealed. They kissed like it meant absolutely everything to them, like one more second of the embrace could be both shining gift and darkest torment.

Unwilling to intrude an instant longer, Uryuu pivoted to head straight for the bedroom and softly shut the door behind him. He paused there, propped against its solid surface, and shuddered through a conflagration of emotions. Their farewell only emphasized the fact that he would inevitably have one of his own. Assuming they both made it out of the war alive, he and Ichigo would also have to part ways. If Uryuu was to be king, he couldn't exactly hang around at the cabin or spend much time in the Shinigami kingdom just to be near his friend. Likewise, Ichigo couldn't be expected to abandon his role there to reside among Quincy.

It hurt, the notion that this peaceful cohabitation had to end. Glancing over to watch the man's untroubled slumber, Uryuu wrapped arms around his aching middle and sank to the cold stone tiles. He had been naïve to pour so much of himself into the relationships he'd built there. These Shinigami were never meant to become precious people to him, but they had. The prince would miss them dearly, and it would be flagrant dishonesty to pretend he wouldn't miss Ichigo most of all. Worst case scenario, if they never saw each other again…

A plaintive, broken noise was muffled against the press of his fist. Too loud in the quiet space, it roused Ichigo. He immediately noticed Uryuu's absence in the bed and sat up to look around. Brown eyes found his unerringly even in the darkness.

"Uryuu, what's wrong?"

The concerned lilt in Ichigo's sleep-roughened voice implied every last one of the prince's painful thoughts were plastered plainly across his countenance. Uryuu schooled his features into something less traumatized and cleared his constricting throat.

"It's nothing. Go back to sleep."

Ignoring the advice, Ichigo came to kneel before his slumped form and insisted, "Tell me what's bothering you."

"I said it's nothing: a random episode of stupidity."

"'Stupidity'? You?" His eyebrows dipped in a prelude to the obstinacy he favored. "I can tell it's important. Just hurry up and say it so we can go back to sleep."

Uryuu shook his head and frowned. It was too embarrassing. He didn't know how to phrase something he couldn't even properly comprehend. Why did Ichigo mean so much, enough to shatter his insides at the mere thought of losing him? It was pathetic and perplexing and far too mortifying to vocalize. Transforming that aggravating mixture into protective anger was effortless.

"Mind your own business," he ordered, shoving at Ichigo's shoulders. He caught Uryuu's wrists and moved a little closer instead. "Let go!"

"No, you let go." His tone hardened with barely contained irritation. "Let go of this stubborn idea that you have to be the strongest person in the world who doesn't need anyone else. It's starting to get insulting! Do you still not trust me?"

Shame was promptly added to the list of emotions Uryuu didn't want to deal with just then. His cheeks flared with it and he yanked free of Ichigo's grip with a snarl at the ready.

"I hate it when you do this, Shinigami! I can't wait 'til this is over so I can finally be rid of you!"

Ichigo reared back as though slapped. Half a heartbeat transpired and Uryuu sorely regretted it, the biggest lie he'd ever told. He refused to look at the man, to let him see how much it took not to beg forgiveness for the barb. Rising with eerie equanimity, Ichigo settled back onto the bed and left him to his misery as demanded. Uryuu couldn't hear the Shinigami's breathing over the strident rasp of his own, but the riled tide of it was reflected in his moving chest.

The prince thought he could be strong. That he didn't need anyone else. It was too terrifying to accept any less. Yet, as he stared at Ichigo the ire he had summoned in defense dwindled to ash, replaced with a biting contrition. Uryuu carefully crawled onto the mattress beside him and faced the wall. He half-hoped his whispered apology would go unheard, absorbed by the wood panel and the blanket he pulled up to his chin.

Except Ichigo heard it and called his name so that Uryuu would roll over and face him. With great reluctance, he did. Ichigo was regarding him with solemn eyes that retained none of the annoyance he had just displayed. Uryuu's heart stuttered giddily as he realized that meant he was already forgiven.

"If you're worried about the battle, don't be." Ah, he'd been wondering when they would have this discussion. Ichigo showed him a confident smile and declared, "With us as your generals and the Quincy citizens on your side, there's no way we can lose!"

"Generals?"

"Yeah, my…my king agreed to split up the army and give us command of the battalions. We'll get our orders from you and relay them to the troops."

"My orders!? Ichigo, I can't lead an army!"

"Well, you won't be alone," he pointed out. "All of us will be working together, discussing strategies and figuring out how to proceed as a group."

"Even so, I am not qualified—"

"This is your show, Uryuu. We're just here to lend you the power to see it through."

Pausing in contemplation, he considered Ichigo's words. It made sense that the Shinigami king was deferring to the Quincy heir in this case. Anything else could be perceived as an attempt at domination under guise of goodwill rather than altruistic aid. The only peaceful way to deplete Yhwach's soldiers' numbers was to give them a reason to defect. His people weren't pleased with the new king and likely suspected foul play in relation to the old. The promise of Uryuu restored as rightful ruler sowed the seeds of doubt and disloyalty, giving them a fair shot at preventing as much bloodshed as possible. And Uryuu really wasn't looking forward to sending Shinigami swords at his own people if he could help it.

Ichigo read these musings in his mind as if he had spoken them aloud. They talked and argued and assured for hours. It wasn't until the grey twilight of impending dawn diffused through the window that they ran out of things to say. In spite of his exhaustion, Uryuu felt much lighter for the lengthy discourse. It didn't erase the sorrow of their ultimate farewell, but it lifted a piece of the overall burden from his back. Just enough to grant him room to breathe.

He took a deep breath and slowly released it. Their hands were almost touching atop the blanket shared between them. If Uryuu were to stretch out his fingertips, they would graze those resting beside. Ichigo's eyes were closed and had been for several minutes, so it was not unthinkable that he was already asleep. He would never know the difference if a light grasp was briefly stolen. The security of stealth made him bold. Warmth from that unsuspecting hand traveled from Uryuu's all the way up to his face, half-obscured by the unruly splay of dark hair. It was like touching sunlight made manifest and he sighed shakily at how ridiculously soothing the subtle contact felt.

Then he sucked the sigh back in because Ichigo's fingers slid to interlace with his in a more deliberate clasp, their palms fitting seamlessly together. A faint smile spread, though his eyes remained closed. Uryuu let his own fall shut and tightened the hold as much as he dared.

Their hands were still twined when he awoke for the second time that day. It was much brighter with early afternoon light beaming into the room through the naked window. Uryuu flinched from it as his eyes widened in surprise. They had both overslept and no one had bothered to wake them! He made an unhappy noise as he grudgingly disengaged their linked hands to get out of bed and leave the room.

No one else was left in the cabin, judging by the resounding lack of activity therein. Apparently, the other Shinigami had deemed them deserving of a late start and left ahead. Shuuhei had even set aside leftovers from breakfast on the dining table. A pristine white napkin covered two pastries on an immaculate white plate. Lighthearted fanfare due to the fact that these were a Quincy recipe Uryuu had taught him some weeks ago.

He smiled in appreciation of the considerate gesture. Although his palate was not overfond of sweets—unlike Ichigo's—one glimpse of the fruit-filled buns had him brimming with nostalgia. From the first taste, the prince made quick work of devouring the morsel. It was just as he'd remembered it, aside from a hint of something tangy he couldn't quite place. Slightly under ripe berries, most likely. Still, it made for a fine breakfast and he was eager to share it with Ichigo, whether or not he preferred more sleep.

"Ichigo," he called across the cabin, "Come and see what Shuuhei…"

His voice failed him as he was racked with sudden pain and disorientation. Uryuu gripped the edge of the table just to stay upright because his heart was palpitating riotously between his ribs, brain bombarded with phantom pangs and strange stimuli. He could have sworn the cabin's familiar colors swirled and blurred from one second to the next. His breath grew labored and erratic to match his jumping pulse.

Glancing at the benign place setting, Uryuu belatedly noticed iridescent white stitching at the corner of the napkin's white cloth. It was an ornately monogrammed 'Y'.

Fingernails scrabbled at his swollen throat as if he could scratch the searing poison from his very veins. He had one more moment of clarity to deduce several key bits of information. One, Yhwach had somehow located and sent an assassin after him, eschewing force for subterfuge. Two, there was enough essence of Nightshade—specifically belladonna—in that pastry's jelly to kill him within minutes. Three, he was going to die choking on his own blood and there was nothing he could do about it.

Then he collapsed to the floor as his mind blanked, eyes rolling back as he began to convulse from the potent toxin's vicious attack on his nervous system. Dimly, he heard Ichigo shuffling down the hall toward him.

"I guess we slept in pretty late tod—Uryuu!" The Shinigami was across the room and crouched at his side in a blink, or maybe that was the delirium. "What's wrong—what the hell is happening to you? Uryuu!?"

Lungs spasmed. Chest ached. Every sip of air was a Sisyphean struggle. Somehow, he managed to reach out and clench his fingers into the bottomless black of Ichigo's shihakusho and draw him closer. One word, that was all he needed to manage. But his jaw was locking up and his tongue was going numb. It took every last bit of coordination to stammer the string of disjointed syllables that could save his life.

"Ph-physo…s-stigm-mine!"

"What? Uryuu, I don't know what that means!" he cried, clinging to his quaking form. "What does that mean!?"

Ah, it was worth a shot.

An uncanny sense of calm sank into him as Uryuu's body became detached from his brain. The scene gradually greyed out and Ichigo's frantic calls died off. The hand holding his robes fell limply at the prince's side. It was the last thing he felt before he began to drift, as though reclined in a canoe following a broad river's tranquil current. He knew he was dying, if not already dead. The only consolation was that he might get to see his family again.

But Uryuu wasn't ready to see them yet. He wasn't ready to leave when he had so much more to do! What about divesting his people of their despotic sovereign? What about purging the Hollow affliction for good? What about establishing the Shinigami armistice? What about thanking the seven men who had inadvertently served as his saving grace? What about Ichigo?

The river morphed celestial, a succession of sparkling stars sweeping past as he floated toward the heavens. Uryuu resisted their magnetism. He fought to stay rooted to his own planet even as a million others beckoned him to their diverse domains. The only rock he cared about was the one that he'd been born on.

Thinking of his birth brought his parents to mind. Kanae and Ryuuken materialized before him and reached out with loving arms. Even his father seemed glad to see him. Souken appeared next, and the three encircled the prince with serene welcome. Uryuu was filled with profound joy and deep sadness in contrary tandem. Although he loved them all so very much, he knew he didn't belong with them. Not yet.

Slipping free of their tender snare, he fixed his eyes on the shrinking globe and willed himself to return. The trajectory changed. His spirit plummeted through the vast void toward that vivid blue expanse. He felt it swallow him up like a churning ocean and slingshot him back to that fateful forest. The cabin swung into view and he darted straight through its slanted roof to see Ichigo bent low over him, unmoving.

Inky darkness exploded all around him. Pain, cold, tingling aftershocks of the poison. Pulse pounding, warmth surrounding. Skin dotted with perspiration and sprinkled with gooseflesh. Air trickled into empty lungs. The scent of wood and soap and someone. Moisture on his cheek and blood sluggishly dripping from his nose.

Uryuu opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was spiky orange. Ichigo's hair tickling his forehead. Ichigo's arms holding him. Ichigo's lips pressed against his. The taste of poison and antidote merged on his tongue was bitter, but the kiss was so sweet. Uryuu lifted trembling fingertips to caress the face meeting his and the man jerked back as though stung by the electric numbness lingering there. Ichigo's eyes were wide and watery. Uryuu felt his welling to match.

"Ichigo."

He drew the prince into a tight hug and hoarsely spoke into the curve of his shoulder, "Oh, thank god, Uryuu! I thought I'd lost you…I thought I'd fucking lost you."

Hugging back as well as he was able, Uryuu marveled over what must have happened while he was gone—or perhaps just hallucinating. Ichigo had finally parsed his message about the medicine past the panic and fetched a corresponding phial from Kisuke's extensive collection. Since Uryuu had been seizing, Ichigo would have had no choice but to transmit the limited liquid via his own mouth while he held the prince still with both hands. All under an extremely constrained, literal deadline. A dedicated friend, indeed.

Ichigo sniffled and raised up to stare at him as if seeking reassurance of his recovery. Uryuu wanted to tell him it would be fine now. If he was already conscious, that signified the toxin had been neutralized entirely and the damage was minimal. Yet, he was too busy staring back in unmitigated awe because there were tears sluicing indolently from the corners of his eyes. Ichigo looked so shaken, so devastated by the close-call. But that couldn't be right.

There was a faint stain of red and yellow on Ichigo's lower lip, the respectively sugary and acrid remnants coating the inside of their mouths. Uryuu's gaze was drawn to the vibrant splash of color. The recent sense-memory of their kiss replayed in his mind. It had only been an emergency procedure. Necessary.

So, why was Ichigo dipping down to do it again?

Granted, Uryuu's head was still fuzzy from the belladonna's trademark havoc but he was fairly sure the delirium had passed. The sensual drag of his Shinigami's tinted lips threatened to bring it right back. He could formulate no rationale for refusing the kiss, so he didn't. Ichigo hummed softly to feel him actively returning it instead. The chaste connection stirred all sorts of sentiments within Uryuu. It felt like being catapulted into the ether and crashing back into himself all over again. It felt like desire and fondness and need at the same time. It was overwhelming. He never wanted it to end.

Ichigo withdrew, breaking the spell, and helped guide him over to rest on the couch. They gazed at each other, seconds converging into minutes. There was so much to say. Neither of them uttered a single word.

Snow coated the barren landscape and leached any remaining color from the hibernating forest around them. A frigid wind stirred layered clothes and tousled short hair. The late afternoon sun was a ghost of former glory, tucked behind a curtain of dense coasting clouds and already tilting toward ceding to dusk. Winter was on its last legs but had lashed out in the night for one more tempestuous blizzard. Almost as if it had been feeding off the prince's spite towards a certain Shinigami, feigning oblivion to the glares aimed in his direction all throughout their patrol. If Uryuu's crunching footsteps were a tad more militant than usual, Ichigo wasn't about to mention it.

It had been four days since the assassination attempt. Uryuu had taken the first two off from Hollow searches to recuperate and Ichigo had stuck to him like overprotective glue. The others had been stunned to hear about it, justifiably mystified as to how Yhwach knew when and where to leave the tampered food for his nephew to find while almost totally alone. Kisuke's speculation had been along the lines of sorcery and Uryuu couldn't rule it out. All they could do was take measures to guard against another invasion. The time to make their stand against his uncle was very nearly nigh anyway.

The prince wasn't worried about it; Yhwach wasn't the type to try the same thing twice and Uryuu certainly wouldn't fall victim to the same spineless plot a second time. No, what kept him up nights lately was Ichigo's inexplicable silence with regards to a specific subject.

They still hadn't talked about the kiss. Not once. Not even a little. Which was why the prince found himself scowling at the man who seemed to think pretending it hadn't happened was a feasible coping mechanism. He had been patiently waiting for the Shinigami to bring it up so they could figure things out like sensible adults, but it was evident now that eventuality just wasn't on the horizon. Uryuu stopped in the center of a small clearing and folded his arms under the thick white cloak he had masterfully tailored from spare yukata. The trailing hem of Ichigo's standard issue black cloak swished across fresh snow as he paused to toss an assessing glance over his shoulder.

"We need to talk."

"Here?" he asked with a dubious wave of his arm at the inhospitable surroundings. Uryuu shrugged. "Can't it at least wait until we get back to the cabin?"

"So you can use the others to dodge and deflect like you have been all week? I think not."

"But what if the Hollow—"

"You know as well as I that their ranks have been thinning substantially since everyone has been working so hard to distribute the cure. We haven't seen a single Hollow all day!"

Expression souring, Ichigo turned away but didn't continue onward. "Fine. What did you want to talk about?"

"You know what!" Outrage at his evasion sharpened Uryuu's tone. "Why did you kiss me, Ichigo?"

The Shinigami winced, actually winced like the question physically hurt him. He shuffled his feet and scrubbed at his hair. Gazed off into the distance. Adjusted the angle of the sword sheathed at his hip. Uryuu was practically boiling by the time Ichigo sighed and faced him.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I wouldn't ask if it were," growled the prince. He was this close to smacking the idiot.

"I kissed you because I care about you, of course. I…" Ichigo idly nudged a chunk of ice with his boot, mumbling, "I love you. And I would have told you sooner except I'm sort of the prince of Shinigami, so. Yeah. My dad is King Isshin. Kinda complicates things."

He finally raised his eyes and snorted to witness Uryuu's flabbergasted expression because: yes, that very much did complicate matters. All of it. Also, Ichigo being royalty explained so much. From his inordinate battle prowess to the deference and respect the others had periodically shown toward their youngest associate. It had to have been a huge factor in swaying the king to aid Uryuu's plight, as well. It made so much sense he couldn't comprehend how he hadn't come to that conclusion on his own.

Except what kind of king would send a prince into the meat grinder that was their Hollow hunting mission? Knowing Ichigo, however, it had probably been his idea and he wouldn't have taken 'too perilous' for an answer.

"You should have told me! Deceptive bastard! Don't you think that's something I have a right to know?"

A gloved hand rubbed at his temples in silent protest of Uryuu's volume. Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he said, "This is why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd throw a tantrum."

"Well, excuse me but this seems like a very tantrum-worthy revelation! All this time you've been hiding arguably the most important facet of your identity! What am I supposed to think? How do I know anything you've told me was true?"

Swiftly stepping forward, he heatedly returned, "I have never lied to you, Uryuu. Not once. Besides, aren't you being a tiny bit hypocritical? You didn't tell me about your heritage, either! I just happened to find out thanks to a wardrobe malfunction!"

"That was different! I thought you all would torture and murder me; it was self-defense!" Pausing to gather his fraying wits, Uryuu frowned and accused, "Maybe I can understand not mentioning it at first, but trying to keep it secret forever is unforgivable!"

"No, what's unforgivable is how delusional you can be! If I had told you four months ago that I was also a prince, you wouldn't have had anything to do with me, right? If I had told you two months ago, same result. Last week? Forget it!" Uryuu's ready response faltered in the wake of hard truths. Ichigo loomed into his personal space and goaded, "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it wouldn't have mattered."

"It wasn't your choice! I deserved the chance to make up my own mind. Now it's too late because I…"

The precipice of an irrevocable confession jutted out before him. Uryuu was not brave enough to take that leap. But Ichigo was.

"In case you missed it earlier, I'll say it again: I love you. I didn't want to deceive you but I couldn't afford to give you that chance only to watch you pull away. It would fucking destroy me."

An annoyingly large amount of anger vanished at Ichigo's earnest monologue. Uryuu was still mad, but it didn't really change how he felt about the man. While his royal station would have been a deal-breaker when they'd first met, it really was too late to cut ties at this point. Uryuu was hopelessly enamored. On some level he'd known it from just two short weeks after meeting, when Ichigo had hugged and accepted him, princehood and all.

He let folded arms fall to his sides and defeatedly mumbled, "I might have…similar feelings toward you."

Uryuu's gaze shot to his and away, arrow-rapid, but it was enough to gauge his reaction. Surprised, pleased, and tentatively hopeful.

"Then, does that mean…?"

The question went unfinished and unanswered but his shy silence was confirmation enough. He wondered if Ichigo would try to kiss him again. Uryuu wanted him to, so badly, but it didn't happen. It pissed him off to think that this moment could turn into another scene they wouldn't discuss. Another life-altering epiphany that didn't really change anything. It meant too much to let it become an awkward memory.

His fingers curled into that midnight cloak and he jerked Ichigo forward with a soft growl of aggravation. If they were ever going to get anywhere, of course Uryuu would have to be the one to see it through. The kiss lit a mighty blaze within him from the first few seconds, such that he wouldn't have been shocked to hear the snow steaming all around them. Ichigo made a choking noise under the unexpected assault and gripped hard at his upper arms. The Shinigami used the hold to push him back and Uryuu scowled in bafflement.

"What is wrong with you—dropping a confession like that and then rejecting me? Is this a joke to you?"

"No! It's just that you were poisoned several days ago and this location is…"

The depth of Ichigo's idiocy knew no bounds. Uryuu skewered him with a flat stare and snapped, "No more excuses. If you love me, then prove it!"

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have said those words. The phrase flipped a switch in Ichigo that had his features hardening with determination and a touch of feral impulse. Next thing Uryuu knew, he was pressed against the nearest tree clinging to the dregs of coherency because the Shinigami wasn't playing around anymore. Ichigo was putting everything he had into the kiss, all the things he'd felt but couldn't express until now. It was already overwhelming but Uryuu wanted more.

His bow was creaking dangerously, the wood threatening to give, and he was entirely unsatisfied with his lack of proper mobility pinned against a trunk. Uryuu suddenly shoved him backward as hard as he could. Ichigo gave a surprised grunt as he hit the cold ground with a soft whumpf, powdery snow exploding outward all around him. Seeing Uryuu flinging off his bow and quiver, he did not complain of the rough treatment when he guessed what would happen next.

Ichigo stole a haggard breath as he was straddled and kissed like his mouth was the source of Uryuu's salvation. A series of short, hungry kisses were exchanged between them, interspersed with matching moans. He couldn't get enough. Every kiss, every touch just made him want the next one more. When the scabbard of Ichigo's sword posed a minor impediment to his access, he jerked back to attack the belt holding it affixed. The Shinigami groaned to feel Uryuu yanking the belt free and tossing it out of the way before diving back in.

Somehow, the meeting of tongues grew hotter with each renewed attempt, despite the cold they could no longer feel. Their gloves were discarded and Ichigo's hands were scrabbling at his outfit, fighting to slip beneath for a hint of bare skin. Uryuu heard the rip of a seam and didn't bat an eye because he was showing Ichigo's attire the same disregard. Clothes never seemed so frustratingly unnecessary as when they were concealing his lover's body from his touch.

Finally, the moment came that they grasped each other at the crux of their passion and paused to savor the achievement. Uryuu's kiss slowed and stopped. He leaned back to stare down at Ichigo as he gave a gentle, testing stroke and got one in kind. Such a subtle caress was impossibly electric. Their breathing was taxed by it even as their eyes glazed with eagerness.

There were no silly smiles or flirtatious winks offered in the brief interim. They both wore very serious expressions because this wasn't frivolous or fun. In a way, this meant everything to them. More than Hollow, more than the crown, more than the perpetual war between their kingdoms. In this moment, nothing else mattered more than unleashing the yearning they had both been subverting for so long. Recognition of the shared sentiment flitted between locked gazes.

Ichigo made an intolerant noise in the back of his throat and pulled Uryuu into an unrelenting kiss. There was nothing casual about their actions, their thoughts, their intent. He was ravenous with a craving only Ichigo could slake. From their lips to their hips to their fingertips, they begged and demanded and reveled in the connection.

Uryuu was so angry they had waited until now. He was so happy they had gotten to this point at all. Never in his wildest fantasies would he have imagined falling for a Shinigami. But the companionable swirl of their black and white cloaks as they rocked together emphasized the implausible union. He needed to say it. Needed to declare it in a solemn oath before he missed his chance, before it wouldn't mean quite as much.

"I love you, Ichigo," he withdrew just far enough for eyes to meet, "Of course I do. How could I not?"

Astonishment was a fleeting thing, easily overtaken by elation. Yet, even that was eclipsed by desire as they neared the summit together. Uryuu was ready to leap this time. He didn't care what awaited on the other side. Whether or not it was foolish to take this for themselves when they knew it would be so hard to hold on to, he had to try. He buried his face in the bend of Ichigo's neck as his heart threatened to burst right out of his chest. It felt so good to be enveloped in his arms, his grasp, his warmth. Uryuu shivered to hear his name murmured hoarsely, urgently. His hips bucked that much faster for it.

A sharp inhale marked the pinnacle, but it felt less like falling and more like soaring. Like all the constraints borne of stress, anxiety, and fear were shed as he ascended above his own troubles to a place of peace and pleasure where he and Ichigo connected on a higher level with each other than with anyone else they had ever known. In that ephemeral moment, Uryuu understood what love truly meant—what it could mean if they were brave enough to lose themselves in its intricacies.

The nudge of a close-mouthed kiss to his temple coaxed him from the fading reverie. He raised his head to meet Ichigo's lips purposefully, desperately, because one sample of what they had been missing only made him hungrier for it. Yet, to Uryuu's immediate and profound dismay, the prince gently disengaged. Ichigo took one look at his frustrated expression and broke into a wide grin.

"Have you made it your personal mission to drive me utterly insane, Shinigami?"

Shaking his head, he chuckled and replied, "No, but we need to get back to the cabin as soon as possible."

"Why?" demanded Uryuu, half-suspecting another attempt at emotional evasion.

He gasped as Ichigo clutched him quite possessively and said, "Because I am nowhere near done proving my love, Uryuu. I want to touch every single inch of your body—not just the gaps between hems—and when I touch you, I want you to feel hot. Not cold."

The reminder made him realize it wasn't just the intensity in Ichigo's voice making him shiver. Uryuu glanced around at the white-washed landscape and decided, not for the first time, that winter was definitely his least favorite season.

"What of the others? They're bound to notice—"

"Let them gossip about us, I don't care. As long as they don't interrupt."

The days that followed were some of the best of Uryuu's life. He had never been so resentful of the sleep that robbed them of precious time better spent awake together. Their duties were shamelessly abandoned for the sake of relishing each moment since they had abandoned platonic pretense. No one bothered berating them for it when the war was so close at hand. Rather, the other Shinigami were content to snicker and tease during the rare instances he and Ichigo weren't off on their own somewhere. Neither of the princes minded the mockery when they were focused on much more enjoyable pursuits than group conversation.

Yet, it was well known that all good things had an end and their brief honeymoon was no exception to the rule.

King Isshin's army had mobilized as soon as the weather turned favorable. It had taken the soldiers four days of travel to rendezvous with those waiting at the cabin and two more to reach the Quincy border beyond. The few Hollow they had encountered along the way were captured and treated before being escorted back to the Shinigami kingdom for recovery. They had set up camp less than a morning's march from the citadel because tomorrow was sure to be a hard day for everyone involved.

Uryuu had never seen so much black in one place. The traditional Shinigami battle gear blended well with the darkness cloaking the forest all around them. Having tailored a replica of his native attire for the occasion, the Quincy prince stood out starkly in pristine white set aglow by the fire roaring before him. He sat on one of several supply crates placed around the heating centerpiece discussing last-minute strategy with Shuuhei and Izuru—less because the plan needed revisiting and more because it kept him from the brink of a minor panic attack.

"There are several secret passages in and out of the city," Uryuu told two of his generals. "Some of them will be guarded but all it will take is one or two soldiers to slip through and open a gate for us at the right moment."

"I'll pick a handful of our stealthiest from the special forces unit," said Shuuhei. "Be sure to mark all the entrances on our map."

Nodding compliance, the prince continued, "They will be expecting us. I've been spotting fresh tracks of Quincy scouts all afternoon. Although a camisado maneuver is unlikely, we should keep sentries posted around the camp until morning."

"Already done," assured Izuru.

Glancing toward a cluster of his compatriots, Shuuhei added, "Most of these guys have been through this a couple times. They know better than to be taken by surprise in the middle of the night."

"Glad to hear it. Just make sure they don't rush in until I give the order. If we have any chance of forging an armistice with my people, I must speak to them before weapons are drawn."

"You're not the only one hoping for peace. No one here wants a bloodbath."

The words came from a female Shinigami leaned against a pile of rice sacks, staring up at the stars. An older man standing beside her grunted in agreement. Izuru smiled sadly and offered further insight.

"We're tired of fighting. It's been so long since the feud began most of us can't remember who started it. So, don't think you're only doing this to help your people, Uryuu. If you become the leader we know you can be, both nations will thank you for it."

He hesitated to respond when nothing he could say would be as meaningful to them as that statement was to him. Fortunately, he was spared the trouble since Ichigo walked over to address him.

"Can I talk to you? Privately?"

"Uh, yes," Uryuu awkwardly agreed, "Of course."

Shuuhei raised an eyebrow, Izuru's smile shifted into a smirk, and from the open flap of a nearby tent Renji could be heard laughing because it was a phrase Ichigo had been known to use when he wanted to get Uryuu alone for a half hour or so. This wasn't that—he could tell by the tone of his voice—but denying it would only convince them it was.

He rose to follow Ichigo a short ways into the woods. Far enough that softened speech would not be overheard but close enough that the firelight danced dimly over their skin through the bright green buds of new leaves. They turned to face each other fully and a familiar pulse of happiness spread to warm Uryuu from the inside out. The odd phenomenon occurred almost every time he looked at Ichigo but it was too embarrassing to mention.

"I wanted to wait 'til everything was over before doing this but I can't quit thinking about it. There's no way I'll be able to concentrate on the fight unless I ask you now."

"Ask me wh—"

"Marry me, Uryuu." The warmth suffusing him blazed to hear a completely unexpected proposal. When he didn't answer, Ichigo's nervousness made itself known in the spirited rambling that followed. "I've thought about this for a long time. I even wrote to my dad and he's fine with it. Actually, his letter made it sound like he's almost as excited as me. It may not be the most practical way to go since we're both men but I don't care about not having an heir if it means we can stay together. And what better way to unite our kingdoms? We could lead by example. Switch castles every other season and—"

"Ichigo, stop. Please just…stop talking for a minute." He touched fingers to forehead and willed racing thoughts to slow. "You had to ask me this on the eve of battle?"

The Shinigami prince exhaled audibly as tension drained from his posture. "I was so worried you'd say 'no' right away."

"I haven't said 'yes', either."

"But you will, won't you? I'll just keep asking 'til you do." Stepping forward and curving a hand behind his neck to hold him close, Ichigo stole a series of quick kisses as he whispered, "Marry me because we don't want to be miserable for the rest of our lives. Marry me because we can accomplish so much more together than apart. Marry me because I can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else. Marry me because I love you."

By the end of it he was dying to say yes but one thing kept him quiet. He pushed Ichigo back and argued, "Aren't you getting ahead of yourself? The battle is yet to be decided and it's foolish to plan for a future we may never see."

"Is it foolish to be hopeful? To have a shared dream that gives us the strength to get through this?"

"There is no guarantee that both of us will even survive tomorrow!"

"We will. I know we will because I'll be watching your back and you'll be watching mine."

Turning away on an agitated sigh, Uryuu muttered, "That's precisely the problem."

"What do you mean?"

He tried to head back to camp, unwilling to broach that complicated subject, but Ichigo moved to block his escape. The expression he wore declared Uryuu would not be allowed to run this time. It was too important to avoid…but it was going to hurt.

"I can't put you above my people," he snapped, bitter for being forced to say it aloud. "I won't. They must remain top priority even if it means sacrificing my life and my happiness for theirs."

Paling in light of that declaration, Ichigo did not respond immediately. He frowned and stared at Uryuu for a long moment. Finally, a subtle change stole over his demeanor and he nodded.

"Fine. I can accept that. I'd feel the same in your situation."

"Good. I'm glad you unders—"

"But you're out of your mind if you think I'd let you die," Ichigo fervently finished. He clasped one of Uryuu's hands and vowed, "If anyone's getting sacrificed, it's me. Send me in to fight your crazy uncle. Just think of me as…your Champion."

The notion was simultaneously absurd, charming, and funny all at once. He shook his head even as he smiled and drew Ichigo into an embrace that was readily accepted. Uryuu's heart was pounding painfully at the thought of Yhwach and the Shinigami prince getting anywhere near each other but it wasn't something he had the power to prevent. Not really. For all his skills and strategizing, he was no match for the mad king on his own. No one person could be until they severed the source of unnatural foresight granting his attacks a razor-sharp edge.

Reluctantly withdrawing, he met Ichigo's gaze and said, "If we succeed tomorrow, ask me again."

It was as close to a promise as Uryuu could afford to make. Ichigo seemed to accept it, leaning in for a kiss and grinning afterward.