Chapter Seventy Two:

Ichigo hugged his cousin tightly, still slightly out of breath from his race with Byakuya, he was nevertheless over the moon to have tracked Kūkaku down with relative ease. She looked well, if not a little tired, and a little naked without her tattoos.

"So, I guess you didn't need a ritual to hand over the role of Clan Head after all, little cousin Ichi." She smiled brightly at him, inspecting his arms with interest.

Rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, the strawberry chuckled, "I guess not. Sorry about that, it must have been a bit of a... Surprise."

"Well, there is nothing like going to sleep one night with ink, and waking up the next morning without it." The wild woman laughed heartily, "But I kind of prefer it this way, now we don't have to go through any of the stupid stuffy time-honoured shit."

"Heavens above." Byakuya breathed behind them, rolling his eyes at her distinct lack of tradition.

"You got a problem with that, Little Byakuya?" She narrowed her brilliant blue eyes at him, smirk stretching wide.

"Not at all." He lied, staring her down with ease.

"I'm guessing Yoruichi dropped by and... Spoke to you about everything." Ichigo sat down on one of the comfortable cushions on the floor, he could still sense the lingering residue of the Shihōin woman's reiatsu.

"Yeah." Kūkaku sat opposite him, her expression momentarily troubled, "I was worried when I heard you had disappeared... Two months is a long time to spend in Hueco Mundo of all places."

"Tell me about it." The strawberry grunted.

"Are you... Both alright?" Her eyes flicked between the two men.

"I am fine, thanks to Ichigo's rescue." The Kuchiki heir stated simply.

"I'm adjusting." Ichigo replied, "Life has been kind of... Flipped upside down, but at this stage I'm used to that happening."

"I can imagine." She reached over, taking one of his hands in her own, "I'm so glad you're safe. From what Yoruichi told me... I wish I'd know what was happening, I would have... Tried to help."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to put yourself in danger as well, Kūkaku." The young man said softly, "Everything worked out well in the end, that's the important thing."

Her eyes lingered on his eyes, she could see the trauma still swirling in their depths, partially hidden behind veils of liquid praline. Dipping lower, scanning the inky brand that marked her cousin as part of Aizen's elite force, the Gothic zero seemed so out of place against his skin and yet... It seemed so right as well. But it wasn't her main concern. Her gaze moved across his throat, she could see the crimp of flesh that was so prominent against his otherwise sun kissed skin.

"Is the bastard dead?" She asked in a growl.

Ichigo faltered momentarily, reaching up and touching the scar she was staring at, the heat of her gaze making the mark burn with memories he would rather forget, "I don't know." He said honestly.

"Shame." She hissed, dropping her gaze to her hands.

"Yoruichi told you what he did... Didn't she?" He said quietly, expression turning deadpan.

"She... Hinted."

"I see." The strawberry heaved a sigh and looked away, tilting his head to one side, another burn tingling at his skin, the faintly puckered skin on his shoulder where Ulquiorra's teeth had buried. Shiro's Espada form had healed those wounds, hidden the scars from sight, but once Ichigo had broken free the scars had surfaced, though, they were fainter than on his throat, "Don't pity me."

"I would never pity you, Ichi." Kūkaku smiled weakly, there was lingering sadness in her eyes, but true to her word pity was the last thing he saw, "I couldn't be more proud of the man you've become. You've grown strong."

"I had some help." He mused, "But... Speaking of growing strong... I want to appeal to have the Clan elevated back to its correct status. I wanted to see if you'd consent before I started trying to do so."

Blue orbs widening in surprise, "That is no easy task... I tried myself but was refused..."

"I will be assisting him." Byakuya murmured, eyes closed as he had been content to simply allow the cousins to talk.

"Interesting..." She raised an eyebrow, pressing her fingertips to her lips, "Perhaps with the endorsement of someone like you it might be possible..."

"Do you know why our Clan was removed, Kūkaku?" Ichigo asked, "No one ever said..."

She shifted uncomfortably, "I... Don't actually know myself. There was a... Cluster of events around the time we were banished. Isshin's murder in the World of the Living... Kaien's death here in Soul Society... I sometimes wonder, knowing what I know now, if Aizen had a hand in it."

"I wouldn't put it past him." The Kuchiki nobleman muttered venomously, "It would have been a complicated task to conceal Ichigo's identity if his remaining family still freely strolled Seireitei's halls. It's an incredible feat that he didn't bump into Kaien while in Shino, let alone the rest of you."

Ichigo folded his arms and released a small hum of thought, "Well, if Aizen did have something to do with it, we should have an even greater case for having the Clan restored. Would you want that though, Kūkaku? You seem to have made a good home for yourself."

"Do I want the pride of our family restored? Are you joking?" She flashed him a wide, toothy grin, "Of course I want that. I might not come back to live in Seireitei, after all, I like my home. But that's no reason why you couldn't reopen the Shiba Estate yourself."

Returning her smile, Ichigo leaned back on his hands, "So I have your consent to take on any of the old farts who try to stand in my way?"

"Of course. I expect you to give them Hell from me."

"And... If I were to take the Shiba name for official Clan business?" He tilted his head again.

Kūkaku looked stunned at first, her lips parting to release a small breath, "Truly?"

"Yes. But I will be maintaining my usual name for anything outside of Clan business. I kinda like being a Kurosaki."

"Ichigo Shiba doesn't quite have the same ring as Kurosaki, does it?" She chuckled, throwing a hand through her tufts of black hair.

"True enough, it would never feel entirely right. But... I really want to make a go of this. What do you say?"

His cousin fell silent for a moment, taking the time to light her favourite pipe, she held it aloft between her thumb and forefinger, pointing at the strawberry haired Shinigami, "If any of us can restore the Shiba pride, I'd place my bets on it being you. I'd be proud to be able to call you a Shiba in more than just blood."

Smiling, Ichigo gave a single nod, "Then it's decided. I'm not sure if anything will happen before this war is over, but..."

"If you defeat Aizen I doubt anyone in Seireitei will refuse you anything you want." She scoffed, "I'm patient, I can wait."

Ichigo slowly got to his feet, letting his hands fall to his sides, "I'm glad to have your support. And if you ever decide you want to move back to the city, there will be a place for you."

"I'm sure there will be." She mused, remaining seated as she blew out a ring of smoke, "You'd better not forget the wedding invitations, by the way. Ganju is pissed that he keeps missing your visits."

Snorting the strawberry headed towards the door, "I'll make sure yours are the first ones I write."

"You'd better."

Ichigo took a deep breath as he left the confines of the house, feeling Byakuya at his side. The strawberry haired male smiled faintly and took his fiancé's hand, enjoying how their fingers linked together automatically.

Ichigo lifted his free hand and once against brushed the faintly puckered skin across his throat, grimacing faintly, "I didn't realise it was that noticeable."

The raven haired Shinigami faltered, momentarily caught between the need to comfort him and the necessity of being honest, "We all have scars from what happened in Hueco Mundo, Ichigo, some of them are visible to the naked eye and some are not. What happened to you was... An atrocity, and I would do anything to be able to avenge your pride myself, but... Shiro did that for you at the time. It doesn't define you. Your scars do not define you."

"I know." He said quietly, forcing a faint smile, "My mind still plays tricks sometimes but... I don't want pity or... Sad looks. It happened. I can't change that. But I can make sure it doesn't ruin the rest of my life, it's just gonna take some work I guess."

Byakuya pulled the younger man to a stop, tugging him closer and sliding both arms around his body, holding him securely as he bowed his head and gently peppered kisses along the scar that ran across his throat.

He knew what Ichigo meant by his mind playing tricks. There had been those times in Las Noches when he had woken from sleep, shaken from nightmares by Grimmjow, memories of seeing Ichigo's lifeless form hanging limply within Ulquiorra's grasp, the Cuatro Espada's blade digging into his throat, pulling back with such a fixated desire to decapitate. Like the bastard hadn't done enough damage without mutilating his body further.

Ichigo released a content sigh at the contact, allowing his eyes to flutter shut as he felt soft lips against his skin; he slipped his hands up his fiancé's chest, encircling the nape of his neck with his fingers as he held him there, gently toying with the fine strands of new hair growing beneath the inky canopy of silken locks.

The strawberry tugged firmly at the dark hair in his hands, forcing Byakuya's head back just enough that he could claim his lips with a forceful kiss, colliding their mouths together with a searing urgency he hadn't felt for some time.

Heat swirled between them despite their surroundings, and the younger Shinigami groaned from deep within his throat, nipping at his lover's bottom lip as he gazed up into his eyes with a haziness he didn't care to hide.

"Byakuya..." He breathed, "I know how I reacted last time... But, I really don't wanna wait anymore... I need you."

"I don't want to push you into anything." The nobleman purred, returning the heated look.

Ichigo frowned faintly, but he wasn't annoyed, "I could never be afraid of you, you know that right? But if you deny me what I want now... You might just start being afraid of me."

Laughing huskily, the raven haired noble nipped at Ichigo's earlobe, enjoying the shudder he received in response, "Well then, we had best get home swiftly."

"No." A wicked smirk toyed around the corners of the strawberry's lips, "I think it's time we found out just how well you can control your reiatsu... Even when under stress..."

"What do you-" The nobleman's question was silenced as his hand was grabbed and he was dragged unceremoniously down a narrow and dimly lit alleyway between two shacks, his face heating up significantly as he watched Ichigo lean back against one of the walls with the most alluring look on his face he had ever witnessed, "You're serious?"

"Deadly." Came the hushed answer, "No more talking Byakuya... I'm done waiting..."

The uncertain knot in his stomach tightened at the demand, but he couldn't resist leaning in and clasping Ichigo's face between his palms, pinning him firmly against the wall as his hands trailed downwards, sliding through long locks of hair, toying with sensitive patches of flesh that he could recall from memory. He had spent so many nights longing for his sunrise haired lover to be back in his arms, to rekindle everything they could have lost forever. This hadn't been how he had expected their bodily reunion to go, but then like with everything else Ichigo touched, it was unpredictable at best. And maybe it was better that way.

There was a burning need rising within them both, arousals pressed together through the fabric of their uniforms, Byakuya made short work of Ichigo's sash, throwing it aside for later before he dipped his hands into the confines of his shihakusho and trailed his fingertips over the divots and ripples of muscled ribs.

The strawberry released a groan, wrapping his arms around the raven haired Shinigami's shoulders, he pulled himself up, coiling his legs around his waist as he arched into every touch and slide of digits against his abdomen, his muscles quivering beneath the touches.

He ran his tongue along the shell of the Kuchiki heir's ear, smirking at the rumble of enjoyment he heard as a response, he felt deft hands slid into his hakama, tugging it aside and freeing him from its confines, the chill of the air hitting his heated skin and making him shiver. Soft but firm massaging circles pressed into his thighs and buttocks, a gentle check to see if he was still content.

Ichigo whined softly, looking into Byakuya's eyes, "Don't you dare hold back on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it." The raven haired man mused, lifting a hand and suggestively tapping his fingertips against Ichigo's lips, "Open up."

Moaning in response, his lips parted obediently, sucking the digits in greedily as he began trailing his tongue up and down and around them, eye contact never breaking as the heat between them grew. The younger man could already see the dilation in his lover's eyes, the need, the drive, the want. He knew he wasn't much better. He nipped teasingly at the tips of the intruding fingers before pulling his mouth away, running his tongue across his lips provocatively.

They met in a clash of lips and teeth and tongues, Ichigo's body arching as he felt slicked fingers teasing him at first, before dipping inside his body to stretch, satisfy and torture all at the same time. His nails dug restlessly into Byakuya's clothed shoulders, tugging listlessly at the fabric as his hips rocked against the sensation of partial fullness, a sharp gasp of pleasure breaking free every now at again as his prostate was brushed or nudged, sending tingles of bliss from his head to his toes.

It felt good. It felt right. There was no pain, no fear, no entrapment. It was everything he wanted. Everything he needed. Byakuya would never hurt him. He knew that.

As fingers left him, only to be replaced by his lover's length, Ichigo tossed his head back, gritting his teeth to suppress a moan load enough that it might have drawn attention to them, he panted harshly and slowly peered down at Byakuya with heavy lidded eyes, face flushed.

The rhythmic rocking of hips started slow, but was no less urgent, building quickly to a punishing speed and depth that left them both mewling in an attempt to silence themselves. Ichigo curled his toes, clinging to Byakuya's body and burying his face in the crook of his neck, his body arching and jolting with each heady thrust and snap.

The younger Shinigami knew he wasn't going to last long, it had felt like an eternity since he had last been touched by someone who had permission to do so, he could already feel the boiling coil of orgasm pooling in the pit of his stomach and his muffled cries of pleasure mimicked his body's needs. He groaned into Byakuya's shoulder, biting into the soft black fabric to silence himself as his body stiffened and bowed.

Head tossed back sharply, a strangled sob breaking free from his throat, Ichigo felt his climax wash over him and carrying him away in its currents. His muscles spasming ruthlessly around the length of erection still burrowing into his heat, he felt his lover's fingers twitch on his hips, their grip tightening.

The strawberry haired Shinigami leaned forwards, closing his mouth over Byakuya's as he saw his lips open to release what was likely to be an unshackled cry. He felt the raven haired man's body quiver momentarily, before tensing, the raptures of shakes that ripped across his shoulders followed the feeling of release.

Gasping out as they parted, the pair shared a heated look, a silent promise that more intimacy would follow later in the day.

"I love you, Byakuya Kuchiki." The strawberry whispered croakily as he accepted help in redressing.

"And I love you, Ichigo Kurosaki." Came the immediate response, Byakuya was no less breathless, "Honestly though, you do truly seem determined to unravel me to my core. Having me do this in a public place."

"I didn't hear you complaining." The younger Shinigami smirked wickedly, popping his head out from the alley to glance around for any Souls, "Come on. Let's head home."

Rolling his eyes, the raven haired man followed him, unable to resist the urge to smirk a little himself as he watched his lover move with the very faintest of limps, he caught up to his side and grabbed his hand in his own, his expression softening to a smile as he saw the hushed blush still seated on Ichigo's cheeks.

"When we arrive at the mansion I'll run you a bath," the nobleman said softly, pulling his lover closer, "You can have a proper soak and relax. In the meantime, I'll begin drawing up the paperwork to have the Shiba Clan elevated back to their rightful position."

Purring at the idea, Ichigo nuzzled into Byakuya's side, "That sounds perfect. Thank you." The strawberry had barely finished speaking before he released a squeak of surprise as his lover scooped him up in his arms.

"Then let us not delay for even a second longer." The raven haired Shinigami grinned suddenly before he burst forwards in a leap of Shunpo, pushing himself to his swiftest as he flitted up onto the rooftops of the shacks, darting side to side and across the meandering gaps caused by streets and alleys.

"We would get back faster if you let me carry you!" Ichigo laughed, tipping his head back as he felt the wind rushing through his hair, throwing it behind them both like a sunny cape.

"And how would it look, for my Third Seat and future husband, to be carrying me home?" Eyebrow quirking in amusement, Byakuya released a small snort, "I think not."

"Well, when you put it like that I suppose I can't refuse!"


Later that evening, as Ichigo curled up in bed in a tangle of limbs and embraces with his fiancé, the strawberry haired Shinigami smiled to himself. The rest of their day had been spent together, he had bathed while Byakuya kept his word and began drafting the necessary forms but when those tasks had been completed they had spent several hours simply relearning each other both mentally and physically.

Opening his eyes just a crack, Ichigo permitted himself a moment to look at Byakuya's sleeping face, the nobleman was relaxed and his breathing was deep, slow and barely trembled despite the amount of time they had spent having sex. He couldn't believe for a moment that there was anywhere he would rather be than back in the Kuchiki heir's arms, or his bed.

"Our bed." He corrected himself aloud, his voice barely above a whisper as he chuckled softly at the thought and snuggled back down, burrowing his head under the sleeping man's chin as he waited for slumber to steal him away as well.

He was surprised when instead of sleep reaching out its comforting hands to spirit him off to dreams and rest, he was sucked downwards into himself, sinking into the depths of his Inner World so easily he wasn't sure how it had happened. It certainly hadn't been a conscious thought.

Peering around at the street, Ichigo scowled deeply. It was dark. Normally, no matter what time of day it was in the real world, his Inner World was forever lit by sunlight and blue skies, or storm clouds depending on his level of despair. But it was perpetually night, there were no stars above him, and no moon. It was as if a great blanket of blackness had been thrown over the entire scene.

It made his skin crawl. His hairs stood on end, the skin at the nape of his neck tingling at the sensation of being watched by an unseen force. Ichigo's chest tightened uncomfortably as anxiety swirled within his core. He'd give anything not to relive that day again. Absolutely anything.

Pain rippled across his scalp as powerful fingers fisted his hair, pressing him down into the sands, holding him in place. His heart was thundering again, his skin was bare again. Teeth were buried in his shoulder, tearing at his muscles, drawing blood, drawing screams of pain.

Ulquiorra... Why... Why couldn't he let him have some peace? It was bad enough remembering it randomly through the day, but reliving it at night was too much. He needed rest, needed peace...

He could see his sword, he could reach it! He just had to wriggle forward a little bit... He just had to survive a few more minutes. But there was that hand around his ankle again, tearing him back. His body was spasming in agony, muscles torn and bruised and battered and... There was a sword at his throat. The steel pinching his skin, digging a groove. Cutting into him. Black and white lips against his ear...

The strawberry sat bolt upright in bed, tearing himself roughly from Byakuya's grasp as a sharp shout escaped his lips, sweat rolling down every inch of his skin as he stared blindly at the darkness of the bedroom. His chest heaved and he felt the bed dip beside him, hands resting on his shoulders.

"Ichigo, what's wrong? Are you alright?" Byakuya's voice was sleepy but no less concerned.

Swallowing hard, he ran a hand down his face, "I... Y-Yes I'm... I'm fine... I just..."

"The dream again?"

"Yes." He whispered defeatedly.

"Come here." Byakuya opened his arms and embraced him as Ichigo's head came to rest on his chest, "While I was in Las Noches, I too had nightmares. On occasion Grimmjow was able to assist me in sleeping soundly. He would release a pulse of reiatsu across my body and my subconscious, allowing a protective layer against such dreams. Rest easy now, I shall do the same for you."

"I can't ask you to-"

"You are not asking, Ichigo. I am offering." The nobleman's smile was small, but serious, "Close your eyes and relax."

Ichigo couldn't help but comply, his eyes slipping shut obediently as he felt one of his lover's hands rest on the crown of his head, "Thank you." Was the last thing he said before feeling the dull warmth of reiatsu washing over him.