AN: revised as of 7/4/20
AN: Haven't had time to sit down and write because of work and school, but couldn't stand having all the ideas rattling in my head and not put down on paper. So here's the next part, shorter than the last chapter, but introducing a bit more of what I had in mind. Please read and let me know what you guys think! I love seeing people's responses, it often sparks ideas that I hadn't considered, so fire away with those thoughts and reactions!
Ichigo approached the downtrodden Shinigami standing in lonely vigil over an unmarked grave, one of the thousands that populated the makeshift cemetery. The midafternoon atmosphere was warm with the approach of summer, the spring bloom still in full swing. Despite the cheery air of the season where life is renewed, the atmosphere was heavy with an intangible weight.
Abarai Renji had changed dramatically from the boisterous loudmouth Ichigo had first fought on that rainy night Rukia had been taken away for execution. Gone was the wild, fun-loving man who was as quick to invite a former enemy to go drinking as he was to deck them while having that drink with them. In his place stood a brooding warrior who seldom spoke unless spoken to first, preferring to allow his blade and fists to do most of the talking for him.
The human said nothing as he silently joined his long time comrade. He watched as the redhead poured a bit of sake over the grave marker from the jug he held in his hand in a silent gesture of respect. Each of the graves had remained unmarked by order of the commanding general of the Gotei 13. A symbolization that no one soul was worth more than another regardless of what station they might have held in life. Yet still, when people visited fallen comrades to offer their prayers, they tended to gravitate towards the same marker that represented to them the person they had lost.
"I never thought I'd outlive Byakuya of all people," Renji muttered quietly without turning away the small plot of land. "That bastard was always so calm and collected, even in the heat of battle. Figured someone like me who always rushed in halfcocked would be dead long before he would."
"He bought us the time we needed," Ichigo replied somberly. "The war might have ended on a different note had it not been for his sacrifice. There can be no better death than that for a man like Byakuya."
The red-haired Shinigami sighed, taking a sip from the flask before offering it to his human companion. Ichigo wordlessly took the proffered drink, spilling some on the grave before toasting the fallen Captain of the 6th Division.
Byakuya had been an ass, no one would say otherwise. But duty was something ingrained so deeply into the stoic Kuchiki that even knowing he was marching to his death, his footsteps had never wavered once. That was worthy of admiration, and it was the trait he would be remembered for. They hadn't been friends, but Ichigo grieved for Byakuya as he did any of the other brother and sister in arms he had lost to the war.
Renji accepted the flask back after Ichigo had taken his fill. Running his free hand through his untamed mane, the tattooed Shinigami drained the rest of the sake. The two men silently contemplated the blank gravestone, each lost in their own thoughts and memories. Finally, the Shinigami turned to face Ichigo, agitation twisting his face into a fierce expression.
"I won't ask you what the Soul King spoke to you about Ichigo, that's your business," the lieutenant said. "But was all this really worth it? This war, all these deaths. In the end, did we do the right thing?"
The human substitute snorted disdainfully, crossing his arms with a scowl. "You say it like there was an alternative. If you've got another solution, I'm all ears."
Renji snarled and threw the almost empty flask on the ground in a fit of anger, the ceramic jug smashing into a dozen pieces.
"It's not right!" he growled, gesturing at the graves. "How can I face them, knowing they gave their lives for this, and in the end, the best we could do is lock that bastard away instead of putting him in a hole in the ground?! We didn't win, Ichigo! We stalled, and Aizen got stupid! It's not a victory if he's still alive!"
"Aizen's as close to immortal as a man can get," Ichigo sighed, looking away. "It's a damn miracle we managed to trap him before he finished his metamorphoses. Any attempts to breach the wards to get to him might allow him to break free. We can't risk that, you know this, Renji. As it is, he's pretty much going to be stuck in that half transformed state for all eternity. It seems like suitable punishment for his crimes seeing as he's still aware of his surroundings."
The tattooed warrior glared sullenly down at the ground, kicking angrily at a piece of the remains of the bottle he had destroyed.
"Just doesn't seem right," he grumbled, shoulders slumped.
"I'm not disagreeing," Ichigo said quietly. "But what can we do about it?"
The two men returned to silently staring at the graves. There was no need for more words, the Winter War was over. Victory had simply been more bittersweet than anyone had expected.
Time passed, the two warriors standing still as statues, watching the sun slowly begin to sink past the horizon. It was peaceful, but a solemn peace tainted by loss. The silence in many ways served to represent the voices of those lost in battle, voices that would never be raised in joy nor celebration.
"I take it you're not here to wax philosophy with me, Ichigo," Renji finally said as evening began to make its presence known.
"No," the human replied gruffly. "I'm here to say goodbye."
The redhead shot Ichigo a sideways look. It wasn't totally unexpected, of course. Despite Ichigo's prominent role in the war, he still had ties to the living world, unlike the other Shinigami.
"Goodbye, huh?" Renji mused. "Must be nice having something besides rubble to return to. I take it you handed in your badge then?"
"Old lecher wasn't too pleased," Ichigo responded with a shrug. "But he let it go. It's not like he has any real control over me since officially, I'm not an instated Shinigami. And as of this morning, I'm not even a substitute anymore."
Renji nodded in understanding. "So you're going back to being human full time then? What will you do?"
The orange-haired man contemplated the question, expression pensive. "Been doing nothing but killing these past few years, Renji. Maybe I'd try my hand at healing instead. Go to medical school and become a doctor like my old man."
The tattooed warrior snorted. "You'd make a terrible healer with that attitude of yours."
The two men shared a quiet laugh.
Renji turned to fully face his ally, a smirk adorning his wild features. The tattoos he had inked on the side of his face was somewhat ruined by the multiple facial scars he had collected over the war. The particularly ugly gash carving down his left eye was a final parting gift from the 6th Espada before Renji had finally managed to kill him. As the saying goes, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had not gone gentle into the good night.
"Well, if you're hanging up your sword for good, then I have one last request to make," the lieutenant said, his hand drifting down to his sword. "We never did get a chance to settle our old score, and it looks like we never may again if we don't do this now."
Ichigo laughed a genuine sound that had become rare during the long war that had claimed so many lives.
"You're really something else, Renji, you know that?"
The human mirrored the smirk on his Shinigami friend's face, hand reaching across his broad back to lift the massive form of Zangetsu from the shoulder strap used to keep his soul sword in place.
"It's rather uncouth behavior for the future Captain of the 6th division, you know," he taunted.
"It's not official yet," Renji shot back dismissively. "Besides, even if they hand me the damn coat, it doesn't mean I'll turn into Byakuya."
The two combatants circled each other, watching for the appropriate moment to leap. Neither men gave an opening, their battle stances near perfect from having survived hundreds of similar clashes over the past half-decade. Finally, they fell still, facing each other with blades raised and guards down.
"Renji," Ichigo said solemnly. "This is probably the last time we will cross blades as warriors."
Steely eyes met one another, a silent understanding passing between them.
"Ai," the man replied sadly. "Let's make the most of it, shall we?"
As the last ray of sunlight vanished over the skyline, the two warriors reacted to the invisible signal, leaping forward with battle cries that sent nearby nesting birds into panicked flight.
SCENE BREAK
Ichigo woke from the dream memory, a dull ache forming in his chest as he recalled the final time he had drawn his blade and fought. He still saw his old friend, now indeed instated as the Captain of Byakuya's former division. But their relationship had never quite been the same after the war. Perhaps it was time that eventually estranged them, or maybe because Ichigo had moved on with his life while Renji remained tormented by the events of the past. The easy comradery of the battlefield had been replaced by more formal tones neither men were entirely comfortable with.
The doctor became aware of the soft shifting weight on his chest that had pulled him from slumber. He held still as the lump burrowed itself beneath the covers with him. A moment passed before the small form grew into a pleasant tangle of warm limbs and soft skin that quickly entwined itself around him. The scent of exotic spice and rain-soaked birchwood wafted up to tickle his nose.
Opening a tired eye, he peered into the golden feline irises that were staring back mischievously at him from beneath the blankets.
"Hello, Ichigo," Yoruichi purred, rubbing a creamy thigh sensually against his own. "Did you miss me?"
The orange-haired doctor shifted so that the dark-skinned goddess could more comfortably rest her head on his shoulder. Her dark lilac hair pooled against the firm pillow, her pearly white teeth gleaming in the moonlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. Their warm bodies molded comfortably against one another, their state of undress not given a second thought.
"When did you get in?" he asked nonchalantly as if having a naked woman appear in his bed in the middle of the night was a fairly regular occurrence.
"Just now," Yoruichi murmured, nuzzling Ichigo's neck and running a tongue roughly against his earlobe. "I've got this itch that needs scratching, and my fingers just aren't enough anymore, Ichigo. Help a girl out?"
Ichigo chuckled, pulling his former teacher and occasional lover close, inhaling her spice-infused scent. The unusual fragrance filled his nose, causing his arousal to spike now that her familiar aroma was coiling all around him. The dark-skinned Shinigami gently nudged the growing bulge between his legs, heightening the excitement surging through his body.
"How could I ever say no to you?" he growled huskily.
He grazed his teeth along her neck, eliciting a lustful moan from the woman as he trailed kisses down her throat and towards her breasts. Flailing arms were caught and trapped above her head, her excited pants quickly filling the room.
Their lovemaking was long, passionate, and loud. It was a familiar dance, both partners knowing how to please the other, their mastery of each other's body impeccable from years of practice.
Time and separation made their desperate need of each other almost insatiable, their torment eased by the comfort of the other's presence. By the time their sweaty bodies collapsed together from the peaks of repeated writhing orgasms, it was nearing sunrise.
"So why the unexpected visit? Not that I'm complaining, but usually, you call ahead so I can clear my schedule. I'm fairly certain Sui Feng would have been more than happy to take care of your needs," the former Shinigami representative teased.
"Little Bee might be a fun distraction," laughed Yoruichi from her position curled up against Ichigo. "But I need a certain length and girth to satisfy my needs, but a strap-on is just so cold and lifeless. There's only one man who meets my requirements."
Ichigo barked a laugh, allowing his calloused hand to give her firm buttocks a playful squeeze. Yoruichi squirmed as she felt his hand wander down to her sensitive entrance. She retaliated by running her tongue across his nipples, a feeling she knew he hated.
It was an odd relationship that they shared. Once, they had been master and pupil. Later they become close comrade in arms during the Winter War and then finally moving into the much murkier grounds of lovers separated by life and death. Ichigo had too many years of life left to leave the living to join Yoruichi in Seireitei. But neither could the princess of the Shihoin clan go to stay in the earthly realm with him.
They had agreed on an open relationship of sorts, allowing both the freedom to seek their own partners until they could be united again. At the time, if they still felt the same way about each other, they would make their union official.
Yet despite this promise, neither really took advantage of their freedoms. Ichigo had never been with a human woman, although there certainly had been no end in offers. And despite the current Second Division Captain's unhealthy interest in her, Yoruichi had never taken another lover since she had first invited Ichigo to her bed.
Both had tried to convince the other that it was absolutely alright to find another partner while waiting for Ichigo's eventual passing. Yet, both were stubborn enough not to take the other up on their offer. And so they continued their odd relationship, Yoruichi occasionally sneaking out into the world of the living in a gigai to spend a few days with Ichigo. The human, in turn taking trips to the afterlife to spend time with her there when time permitted.
There was a running joke amongst the Shinigami who knew of their odd liaison about a truly long-distance relationship. Of course, no one dared utter it aloud within the hearing range of the two heroes of the Winter War.
"A little birdie told me that you've taken on an apprentice of sorts," the goddess made flesh murmured sleepily, the exhaustion from their fierce lovemaking finally catching up with her. "I wanted to see who had caught your attention."
Ichigo rolled over with a groan, smothering his face with the pillow. "And here I thought you came to visit because you missed me."
The former second division captain laughed softly. "That too, of course. But I can't let any woman take my Ichigo without my approval. What's she like?"
"Natasha Romanoff," the human grunted, rearranging the head support into a more comfortable position. "And there's nothing to take. She's some sort of spy that works for SHIELD. This organization supposedly monitors unnatural events and tries to prevent as much damage as possible when something does boil over."
"She a Fullbringer?" Yoruichi questioned with interest.
There were few reiatsu sensitive humans in the world, and the Gotei 13 made a special effort to keep track of the few that were. Officially they were monitored for the safety of other humans near them; being exposed continuously to high reiatsu had odd effects on the living. Unofficially it was mostly to keep an eye on any possible threats before they could expose the living world to knowledge best kept hidden.
"Can't say for certain, it's hard to peg exactly what her power is, but it definitely has to do with shadows," Ichigo replied with a frown. "Seriously, are we really talking about another woman after sex? I feel like this is some sort of test, and it's going to bite me in the ass later."
Yoruichi chuckled and snuggled closer, enjoying the warmth of her human partner's embrace. "I'm the one asking silly, so that makes ok. What exactly have you been teaching her?"
"Nothing," Ichigo snapped irritably. "She just keeps popping up to bug me. Seriously, who the hell told you about her anyways? Was it Ishida? That man is the worst gossip, I swear! Have you lot officially accepted him into Shinigami Women's Association yet?"
The princess of one of the four noble clans of the afterlife socked her fuming lover in the arm with a laugh. The jab at Uryu wasn't unwarranted, the Quincy had a reputation of being quite the nosy gossip despite his stoic appearance.
"Maybe if you showed her something, she'd leave you alone," Yoruichi argued.
"As if," he snorted. "I know her type, she's just like Tatsuki. If I give her an inch, she'll take a mile and come running back to bug me for more once she's done with that. No, the best way to deal with her is to ignore her until she gets tired of badgering me or starts to figure things out on her own."
"Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, Ichigo," Yoruichi said reasonably. "I know we've talked about this before, but you must get awfully lonely living the way you do. I want you to be happy, you've got years ahead of you. Find someone and settle down. Be normal for once in your life!"
"I already found someone," Ichigo countered stubbornly. "I don't need anyone else other than you, Yoruichi."
The Shinigami's gaze softened at her lover's words, secretly melting on the inside. She felt his arm tighten possessively around her, gently reassuring him with a calming caress of his chest. Ichigo didn't have the best communication skills, but that was alright with her. He said what mattered when it mattered the most.
"It's going to be a few long lonely decades before we can really be together," the former exile reminded him halfheartedly. "That human body of yours won't be able to keep up with mine in the bedroom for much longer."
The dark-skinned woman sat up and bounced her perky breasts in her hands as if to emphasize her point. Ichigo watched the tantalizing motion with half-lidded eyes, a soft appreciative smile on his lips as he gazed up at her.
"Kept up well enough just now, didn't I?" he asked mildly, earning himself a playful shove from the carefree Shinigami. "Besides, it won't be as long as you think."
A dark purple eyebrow rose up. "Did I miss something? Last I checked you were thirty-two, and for most humans, that means another good fifty years left before their bodies finally give out."
Ichigo looked away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I'm dying, princess."
There was a long moment of silence as Yuroichi stared back blankly at the man next to her, wondering if she had heard wrong.
"What do you mean?" she demanded, finally breaking from her shock. "Is it a disease? Call Orihime! I'm sure she could fix it!"
"No, that's not it," Ichigo replied with a casual wave of his hand. "I'm a doctor, of course, I take care of my body. I'm healthy as a horse."
"You fuck like one too," Yoruichi added automatically, her reflexive humor a defense mechanism meant to deflect her own worry. "So, what is it then?"
Ichigo shrugged. "Just a side effect of me leaving my body behind so often in my youth. Souls aren't meant to be separated from the flesh like that. My spiritual form continued to grow stronger and stronger, but my human body wasn't able to adapt as quickly. Like a hand trying to squeeze into a glove a few sizes too small, something's bound to eventually give. My body's the glove. Ishida and I figure I've got another decade at most, and that's assuming I limit the use of my spiritual powers."
"Urahara could figure something out!" Yoruichi protested, gesturing wildly. "Or Nemu! All those years toadying under that freak Mayuri has to be good for something! Hell, Orihime could probably-!"
She fell silent as Ichigo sat up and pulled her into his warm arms, her head instinctively resting on the crook of his shoulder. The dark-skinned Shinigami sniffled, angrily brushing at the moisture that had formed in her eyes at the shock of the unexpected news.
"You're probably right, love," Ichigo murmured softly. "Thing is, I don't really care anymore. My friends have all moved on with their own lives, my family is doing fine without me. They can all still come to visit me on the other side, it's not hard to get permission to travel there. I don't mind dying young Yoruichi, not if it means I can be with you."
"Damn it, Ichigo!" Yoruichi snarled. "I won't have you throwing your life away for me!"
"What life?" he asked gently. "Sure, I'm still alive and kicking, but there's nothing really keeping me going except the thought of being with you. I mean, how stupid is that? Living for the moment I die? Every night I come home to an empty bed wishing I could be by your side. Is it so wrong that I'm willing to let my body perish so I can be with the woman I love?"
"You're an idiot," she mumbled into his chest, trying to hide the tears spilling down her face.
Their relationship had never been an easy one. It was not merely the gulf of years that separated them. Yoruichi was one of those rare few souls that had been born in the afterlife, never having actually been human. It was why she was so against Ichigo leaving the world of the living to be with her, she felt like he was throwing away a chance she had never had.
"Your idiot," he corrected lightly, pulling her into a deep passionate kiss.
When they broke apart, she was smiling again, a warm feeling having filled the cold void in her chest when she had learned her lover was dying. A part of her felt guilty at the slight happiness she felt knowing that her human lover would be with her sooner than expected. But things would work out, they always did with Ichigo.
"So…tell me more about Natasha," she said slyly.
The human groaned and fell back into bed, ignoring his caramel-skinned lover's boisterous laugh. Fishing a hand lazily in the air, he reached out with his reiatsu, calling the strand of spirit energy he had familiarized himself with.
He handed the ribbon over to Yoruichi, rolling onto his side away from her and shutting his eyes.
"Go find out yourself if you're so curious," he huffed. "It's not like Romanoff and I know each other all that well."
The cinnamon-colored beauty cast the thread aside after memorizing its signature, spooning up to the human while humming noncommittally. Reaching a hand around his waist, she began to stroke his manhood. The organ responded eagerly to her touch despite the abuse that had already been heaped upon it.
"Maybe later," she murmured wickedly. "Right now, there's a hard cock that needs my attention first."
AN: So, by now, I'm sure the readers have picked up the fact that the Winter War was significantly altered in my story. The vision I have is one of actual war, not one big epic battle where they slugged it out with minimal casualties. There was no Final Getsuga Tenshou, just five years of bloodied battles raging all across the living world, Seireitei and Hueco Mundo. More tidbits will be shared in both conversational anecdotes and maybe some more flashbacks, but it's not a significant point of the story here. Basically, they caught Aizen with his pants around his ankles and gave him such an epic wedgie he's never getting back up again. In theory…
But all that aside, the main thing I wanted to do with this chapter was to introduce Yoruichi. I hope that my characterization of her come across as the sassy playful woman that I see her as. I'm not sure their relationship is adequately conveyed in this short chapter, but we'll see more of their interactions and insight into how it is they got where they were with further updates.
So let me know your thoughts and opinions. Praises, flames, and prayer all welcome as long as it's constructive in some manner! Until the next chapter, goodnight from the West Coast!