Chapter One
Broken Wings
The dream was always the same. He was standing beside the river and a person that was way too large came at them. He screamed as loud as he could and then the world went blank for a short while. When he woke, she was lying on him, and he was drenched in blood. A voice nearby spoke out loud.
"If you'd just kept your fuckin' mouth shut, you stupid brat, she wouldn't be dead."
A silence, and then he heard another voice screaming in pain, and he was free from the dead weight of his mother's body. He saw his father, clutching her to his chest, and the words in his mind spun out of control. If he had been quiet, she wouldn't have died. Then, too, his father was gone.
And so, he kept quiet. If he'd kept quiet, she wouldn't have died. He wouldn't have cried.
Ichigo Kurosaki woke with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat and tears streaming down his face, but he felt someone's arms around him. He turned into the comfortable embrace and sobbed silently, like always. Even here, with him, he couldn't make a sound when he cried.
"Hey, shush, now. I've got you, I promise," came his voice and he was comforted like always by the only person in this world he could trust, his elder brother Shūhei Hisagi.
They weren't blood related of course. Shūhei's step-father and mother had fostered Ichigo when he was ten years old. After the murder of Ichigo's mother, and his father's mysterious disappearance, Ichigo and his twin sisters Yuzu and Karin had been left alone. There was no direct family, not in the Kurosaki line, but he would find that his father had taken his mother's last name. Their cousin was finally located, a young man named Kaien Shiba, but he was only able to take in the two girls. Him and his wife had a two-bedroom house, and since Ichigo was a boy, the authorities wouldn't allow him to stay with them. That was how he ended up in foster care, and eventually he was taken in by the kind and gentle step-father to Shūhei Hisagi, a white-haired psychologist named Jūshirō Ukitake. Ichigo had been ten, and Shūhei had been twelve.
Because things never seemed to go easy for Ichigo, or even Shūhei, Shūhei's mother passed two years later, leaving them motherless. Out of grief and obligation, Shūhei's step father quickly remarried a woman named Cirucci Sanderwicci. She kept her name, and entered into the marriage knowing that her place was to be their mother, not as a wife to Jūshirō. The two boys tried their best for her, but no matter what, she was never happy. A couple years later, she divorced Jūshirō Ukitake on the grounds that he kept a male lover. That was true, of course, but what wasn't true was that she was unaware of that fact. She sued for custody of the two boys and she got it, going so far as to make it impossible for Jūshirō, already suffering from his chronic COPD and frequent hospital stays, to see the two boys.
"Ichi, is what she said today why you're having nightmares?" Shūhei asked as he ran hands through Ichigo's hair. He sighed because he knew that it was exactly what was causing his little brother's pain tonight.
Ichigo nodded against his chest and heaved a sigh. He sat up and locked eyes on his elder and very over-protective brother. In a voice barely over a whisper, he spoke.
"I can't leave."
"I know," Shūhei sighed and felt his heart would break. Ichigo just had his eighteenth birthday, and they had celebrated the thought that they would be free of their terror of a mother.
Shūhei hadn't moved out when he was eighteen two years ago, and he wouldn't leave now without Ichigo. She had pulled some legal shit and got Ichigo declared disabled and in need of a guardian due to his mutism and being "intellectually delayed". She'd had him declared incapable of living on his own and got herself made his guardian. This only meant that Shūhei would have to get himself declared Ichigo's guardian so he could get them both out of the house. He reached up and thumbed tears away from Ichigo's blackened eye. If she hadn't been drunk, that probably wouldn't have happened, but then she was always drunk these days. At least she hadn't gone after them with the knife again. Shūhei unconsciously winced as he felt a twing in some of his older scars at the thought.
When the divorce happened, Shūhei had told everything. He was fifteen years old, sporting bruises nearly from head to toe and so was Ichigo, and the judge had laughed it off. She'd already explained their bruises as being a result of fighting at school. This was also true, because Ichigo received no end of bullying on his part and Shūhei always stepped in. The school had provided the records of their fighting, and so Cirucci had been allowed to keep custody. That weekend, she'd broken Ichigo's arm and told Shūhei that it was his fault. Shūhei never told another soul what happened in their house after that out of fear that Ichigo would be hurt even worse again. That had also been the first time she took a knife to them. Enough to scar, but not enough to cause long term damage.
"Don't you fret," Shūhei whispered, echoing what their father used to say before he was forced away. "Don't you cry, I'll stay here with you, I'll be here, by and by." He took a shaking breath and started to sing softly so she didn't hear him.
"Sing sweet lullaby, so, please, don't you cry. Lay your head down to rest. I will stand to the test. I'll keep away the night. I'll scare away your fright. I won't let harm come to you, because I know what to do. So, sleep upon your pillow, and I'll sing so sweet and low. Slip all your so quiet realms where you know everything means. Slip into your silent sleep. I'll see that those dreams you'll keep. So, please don't you cry, sing sweet lullaby." As he reached the end, Ichigo had fallen into a deep and heavy sleep in his arms and he sighed.
Ichigo had always slept in Shūhei's bed. He had a bed in the room, and at night, he laid down there to start, but he always wound up sleeping in Shūhei's bed. If Cirucci caught them, she'd beat the hell out of one or both of them, but it didn't matter. Ichigo took the chance to find some comfort from his nightmares that he wouldn't speak of, even to Shūhei.
In fact, if there was a chance, Ichigo was beside Shūhei, and clinging to him. None of them knew why Ichigo stopped talking, and no one had really tried to understand it. They all assumed that watching his mother die had caused him to become mute. No one actually knew what he'd seen that day because he'd been found sitting beside her body, covered in blood and mud and just staring in the distance. He'd been catatonic for months, and finally when he started moving again, he didn't speak. That is, until he was with Shūhei.
The first time Ichigo had spoken to him, Shūhei had been surprised and gone to tell his father, Jūshirō. He wouldn't speak again, though, not in front of anyone else. So, it was that Shūhei figured out that it was only him. In school, he was often pulled from class to help with Ichigo when he became "belligerent". In reality, Ichigo had just become confused and upset, and his teachers always read it wrongly. It was unendingly frustrating to Shūhei because he could see what was wrong, and the adults just refused to see it. They'd put Ichigo in low level classes, labeled him mentally challenged, and refused to see how incredibly smart he was. Ichigo quit trying to show them and just did what they wanted, and that, too, broke Shūhei's heart.
He'd been counting on getting him away from Cirucci, taking him to live on campus at Las Noches University here in town. He'd already enrolled him in classes that started next month, as much as he could with the rudimentary school he'd been given through mostly special education. Now the option to move him in at the campus was gone. So, he guessed he'd take him to the dojo tomorrow as they planned. If nothing else, at least he could get Ichigo out of the house as much as possible, and taking him to a self-defense class would be a great thing to start with. He could at least try to help Ichigo take care of himself.
Shūhei felt Ichigo get even heavier as he slipped into deeper sleep. He smiled to himself and moved his arm out from under him and supposed he was glad that Ichigo could at the very least trust him. He pulled the covers over them and wondered how the future would end up for both of them.
-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-
"So, you want to sign up for self-defense classes?" the man at the desk asked. He had lovely long brown hair pulled back on the nape of his neck and the plaque on the desk read "Rose – Reception".
"We do," Shūhei nodded. Ichigo, like usual, was clutching his arm and looking around with wide eyes. He had no idea why he did this, but anytime they were in a new place, it seemed to be his habit to take in as much information about the place they were as he could. He wondered at that, but when he asked, Ichigo could never tell him why.
"Names?" Rose asked, pulling out a couple of sheets of paper. One appeared to be a list.
"Shūhei Hisagi and Ichigo Kurosaki," he said with a nod as Rose wrote in very elegant looking handwriting.
"Alright, well, before you sign up officially, we'd like you to go out and participate in a class to make sure this is where you want to be. I'll give you Master Muguruma as your teacher," he muttered and scribbled down the name beside theirs. "Your boyfriend is awful quiet, does he really want to be here?"
Shūhei blinked then looked at him. "Oh, he's not my boyfriend. My foster brother. He doesn't speak to anyone except me."
"That might cause problems," Rose started but behind him a tall man with short silver hair had stepped up.
"Don't worry about it, Rose. I can handle a student that doesn't speak," he said and Shūhei guessed he must be this Master Muguruma. "Shūhei and Ichigo?" he asked and reached his hand out toward Shūhei. "Kensei Muguruma. You can call me Master Kensei, easier for the most part."
"Master Kensei," Shūhei said with a smile. "Good to meet you, sir, um, I'll apologize for my brother. He doesn't do well with touching other people either."
"Is there something wrong with him I should know about before we start?" Kensei asked, looking Ichigo's nervous stance over.
"He's a little clingy to me, and I was hoping something like this might help him. He gets bullied a lot, and I end up fighting with people over him," Shūhei explained, noticing that Kensei was focused on Ichigo's black eye. "He's eighteen, so he's old enough to be here."
Kensei smirked and nodded. "That's fine, always want to help someone that needs it. Why do you want to take the class?"
"I need to be able to protect him better, and I'd like it if he could protect himself a little bit," Shūhei answered as he watched as the room started filling up with people in gi.
"Shūhei?" he heard and he looked up to see a familiar face from his classes at Las Noches.
"Oh, Kira, how are you?" he asked with a smirk as he watched Kensei go and help a few of the younger students that had come in, one a girl with short green hair, and another a girl with bright pink hair.
Kira smiled softly and nodded toward Ichigo. "Hi there, Ichigo, how are you?" he asked as Ichigo ducked his head but didn't look away from him.
Ichigo suddenly moved and pulled Shūhei's head down to whisper in his ear. Shūhei smiled and blushed a bit. "Ah, he says that he likes you and wishes that you and I would hang out more."
Kira blushed a bit too and turned toward the class. "Eh hem, so you're going to join Master Kensei's self-defense class, then?" he asked, clearing his throat again at the end.
"Yeah, this place seems like a good place. You been coming here long?" he asked.
Kira pulled at the green belt around his waist. "Almost a year, but it is a lot of fun. The owner shows up now and then, but the funny part is that he's the same age we are. He just inherited it from his relatives and he lets the manager run the place mostly. Just watch out for her, she's a little…" he paused to think. "She's intense."
Just then, a sound of something slamming got the class's attention and Shūhei heard Kira sigh and walked back to the mat just as a short woman with blonde pigtails wearing a tracksuit came out of the back with a book.
"Shinji!" she shouted and glared behind her.
"Coming, keep yer pants on," he groused as a young man with blonde hair, long and pulled back to the nape of his neck, came out of the back, he had wide mouth and looked amused at the other short woman's annoyed visage. "Jeeze, I dunno why I gotta do this paperwork now, Hiyori. Can't it wait until morning?"
"No, dumb ass, I have to take this down to get it notarized in the morning and in the mail," he woman responded.
Shūhei and Ichigo lined up with the rest of the class, standing in the back. After some convincing, Ichigo let Shūhei stand off to the side of him rather than holding him. He still didn't want to let go, but he was willing to stand in the next spot when Shūhei convinced him of it.
Shinji put down his signature on several of the papers and then watched the class. He spotted the one with the bright orangey red hair immediately. "Newbies?"
"Yeah, the black haired on is Shūhei and the redhead is Ichigo," Rose said, not looking up from his crossword.
"Like what you see?" Hiyori asked with a sigh. "You are the worst gay boy I've ever met. You haven't even been away from your last boyfriend a week."
Shinji frowned at her. "I can't help it. He was far too uptight."
"You mean he wouldn't bottom to you," Rose murmured as he worked on the puzzle. "What you get for being a strict top."
"No, Uryū was nice and all, and he would have, but we never got that far," Shinji muttered and crossed his arms in a huff. "He wasn't ready, he said. And he wasn't really my type. He was way too worried about school and trying to get good grades on everything. He took fifteen hours of classes! I need someone who is at least a little bit more flexible than that."
Hiyori snorted. "Well, the black haired one knows Izuru from the college. Considering the facial tattoo, I'm guessing he either is gay and likes to suck dick, or he's not and likes to eat pussy."
Shinji rolled his eyes. "Well, that's obvious, wonder which it is…"
"Both," Rose muttered and then snorted. "My gaydar is never wrong. He's bi."
"And the redhead?" Shinji asked, eyes drifting to the lithe looking boy. He tilted his head to the side as he watched him move. "He's really good for a newbie, though. Look at how well balanced he is without anyone helping him. He's doing some stances that he should really be spotted for. The other one isn't hitting them so well."
"He's gay," Rose confirmed, still not looking up. "So, go for it if you wanna try and hit that one up."
"Not the black haired one?" Hiyori murmured.
"Nah, Izuru's got his eye on that one, has for a long time. I've heard him talk about him before. He's too shy to ask him out, though."
"I can't just ask him," Shinji mused, wondering how to approach the situation. He liked the redhead, just by look. He was cute and looked like he was quickly going to pick up the moves. He licked his lips as he watched him, then frowned. His shirt rode up his back and he had bruising all the way up his spine. "The fuck…" he whispered under his breath and glanced toward the dark haired one. He noticed that he was incredibly self-conscious of his clothes moving too much and he pulled down the back of his shirt every time he stood up. Was he covering up marks too?
"If you eye-fuck him any harder, he's gonna start moaning," Hiyori commented, breaking Shinji's glance.
"You're so vulgar," Shinji muttered as he sighed and leaned against the counter. "Just, did you see his bruises?"
"They said that he had trouble with bullies. He's mute or something. Maybe something wrong with his head, too. He clings to Shūhei like he's the only thing in the world. You might want to let that one alone," Rose said as he flipped the page in his crossword.
Shinji tilted his head to the side as he continued to watch them throughout the class. By the time they were done, he noted that Ichigo was smiling and seemed happy. As soon as Kensei dismissed them, though, he ran and grabbed Shūhei's arm. Shūhei didn't react other than to pat his hand and lead them over to the desk.
"I'd like to sign us up. Ichi seems to like it a lot, and I enjoy it too," Shūhei told them.
Rose pushed a clipboard over to him. "Here you go, fill it out and then pay the fee."
"Ah, how much is the fee?" he asked, nervously holding the pen.
"Well, normally, we charge thirty-five a session unless you pay up front for a whole year," Rose said as Shūhei stared at the paperwork and seemed to be wondering if he could afford it. Seventy dollars a week was a lot of money.
"If the money is a problem, we can work out something," Shinji said suddenly, getting a glare from Hiyori. "What? We help people. No one has to know. How about you two pick up a job here in exchange for classes? I could use someone to help with cleanup and the office needs organizing." Despite the fact he was speaking about both of them, his eyes were on the redhead who kept trying to become smaller beside his dark haired companion.
"Only because you made a mess of it!" Hiyori snapped and glared at him. "You are the whole reason that office is in the mess it is!"
Shūhei looked at Ichigo. "What do you think, Ichi? A job would get you out of the house even more than once a week? Me too…"
Ichigo nodded feverishly and looked at Shinji for a second before bowing his head and hiding behind Shūhei. Shinji felt his cheeks heat up and he caught a breath as he looked toward Rose. "Yeah, we'll do that."
Hiyori sighed and leaned over and glared at Ichigo beside Shūhei. "Hey, strawberry, yeah, you, you gay?"
Ichigo's eyes widened and he looked up at Shūhei. Shūhei snorted. "Hey, that's a question for you, brother. I don't know that."
Ichigo grabbed Shūhei's head and pulled it down and they could hear hoarse whispers for a second before he let go and hid his face behind Shūhei's back. Shūhei sighed. "He says he doesn't want to say because he's scared you won't like him if he tells you."
"So he's gay, there ya go, Shinji. He's all yours," she said and smacked Shinji on the ass as she turned and left the room to the back again. Shinji glared after her and sighed, running a hand over his head.
"Oh, my gods," Rose murmured. "That's not the way to tell a cute boy you like them."
Ichigo peeked around Shūhei and stared at Rose then looked at Shinji who was red-faced. Shūhei sighed. "Ichigo, you idiot, I think Shinji thinks you're cute," he said with exasperation. "I think you'll be just fine here."
Shinji, thoroughly embarrassed, turned on his heels and went into the back, leaving Rose to finish their paperwork. Shūhei filled out everything out and they were to return the next day at noon. Shūhei was glad because that meant that they could be out of the house. However, he wasn't looking forward to telling her that they were going to have a job. She might not take it well, especially since they were working in trade for classes.
When they got home, they knew they were in trouble because the door was unlocked. That meant she was home and drunk because she'd not locked up. They tried to be quiet, but it was inevitable that she heard them as they headed toward the stairs in a desperate attempt to not be noticed.
"The fuck you two been?" she snapped, grabbing Ichigo and yanking him back by the arm. In one hand, she was holding a wine glass half filled with ruby-red liquid and her cigarette was haphazardly held in her fingers where she clutched the vessel. Ichigo's eyes had gone wide as she clutched his upper arm and dug her fingernails into him.
"I told you that I was taking Ichigo to a self-defense class. It's a requirement for school, remember?" Shūhei said, trying to move so he was closer to him.
She shook Ichigo in her grip and if he'd had a voice to speak, he would have whined because Shūhei could already see blood beading where her nails were cutting him. "Oh, that's right. So you're going to try and take the retard to school? Ya think that'll work, do ya? He's a damn idiot, and yer fuckin' step-father was an idiot for taking this dunce into this house. Who does that? T-Takes a fuckin' moron into their house and raise them?" She paused in her general tirade and sipped her wine for a moment. "No, no one in their right fuckin' mind, and look at me, saddled still with this disabled piece of shit boy," she snarled and hauled Ichigo forward a bit before she spun him toward the wall. He slammed into it and slid down it, staying down, because he knew better than to get up.
"Cirucci…" Shūhei started.
"I'm your fuckin' mother remember? That was the fuckin' deal when I married your faggot of a step-father, remember? Just be their mother, and we'll marry for show, and I'll take care of you from now on, then he goes and fucking gets sick and all this money that shoulda been mine is gone. How dare he treat me like that?"
"Mother!" Shūhei exclaimed and got her attention. As usual, she struck first then spoke, slapping him hard across the face.
"Don't fuckin' yell at me, fuckin' think yer something since you can do what you want! Well, ya can't because I got ya by the balls, don't I, you worthless punk?" She glared at him as she downed the rest of her wine. "Cuz ya won't do a fuckin' thing without yer precious 'brother' now will you?" She drug off her cigarette and then blew the smoke in his face. She grinned. "Show me yer belly."
"What?" Shūhei knew where this was going and he hated it every time.
"You heard me, you fuckin' brat, pick up yer shirt," she snarled.
Shūhei did it, lifting his shirt and showing off the scars that ran all over his torso. She reached out and touched them, running fingers that were too gentle and soft over the marks. She smiled like she was proud, and of course, she was proud. She'd made those marks and she would make more if she decided they were fading.
"Ya know, I should make ya fuck me," she said and smirked at him. Shūhei's eyes went wide. "Don't look like that. I know ya fucked a girl before. Ya fucked a guy too, so yer one of those freaks that swing both ways, not like yer faggot father and the little fag over there." Shūhei's breath caught. "Oh, I was right, was I? That was just a guess that he was like yer father." She turned and walked toward Ichigo and Shūhei started to panic. He needed her to leave him alone.
"Stop, don't you touch him!" he shouted.
She turned and smirked at Shūhei as she reached down and grabbed Ichigo's hair, lifting him to his feet. "So, yer a fag too. Maybe I should make you fuck me. How would you like that? Are you a pussy fag or a dick fag, I wonder?" She put down the empty wine glass on the counter beside him and then started to slap him again and again. Shūhei knew better than to touch her; to do so would only increase the damage she inflected. She stepped back, grabbing the bottle off the counter and disappearing into the living room.
Shūhei ran to Ichigo and checked his face over. A few new bruises, and his arm was bleeding from her nails, but otherwise he looked okay. He pulled him into his chest and hugged him, feeling he tears already.
"Come on, shower for you," he whispered and helped him to his feet. He got them both undressed and into the shower upstairs. He felt Ichigo flagging as he always did after she went after him, so he held him up, washing him before himself. He didn't pay attention to his own tears, but he knew he had to do whatever he had to do to get Ichigo out of this place.
-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-
"You noticed that they're both marked up," Kensei said as he sat, leaned back on the sofa in the messy office. Shinji was sitting at the desk and sorting through some papers. Lisa sat on the desk, reading a yaoi manga while Mashiro was laying on the floor asleep, her boobs half out of her gi. Shinji sighed and saw Rose come in and flop into the sofa.
"Yeah, I saw that. The redhead is bruised. And the dark haired one has some nasty scars." Hiyori was going through the finance books at the file cabinet behind the desk.
Shinji sighed and nodded. "I saw that."
"Are you really into that redhead or you just playing savior, boss?" Lisa said without looking up from her book.
"I like him," Shinji muttered and brushed a hand over his face. "I mean, he's cute as a button, did you see him? And he's so shy and that's so fuckin' adorable, I just want to hold him and snuggle him forever…"
"He's not some cat for you to make your pet," Mashiro murmured, not asleep as she seemed.
"I know that!" Shinji exclaimed, slapping papers down on his desk. "So, I've got a crush at first sight for the first time, so sue me."
Kensei looked over at him. "I'll see if I can't get the dark haired one to talk to me. I think he might need someone who he can talk to in his life, he seems to be the one taking care of the redhead."
"I think so. You saw the way the strawberry clings to him. I think they've been all each other has had for far too long. So I think it is a good thing you invited them to work here," Rose spoke up where he leaned on the cabinet. "Now, I have a date, if you don't mind, and he's not going to wait at the restaurant all night for me," he said and headed out the door again.
"What's the plan with them? We've never done something like this," Hiyori asked Shinji.
"We do what I said we were going to do. We let them work here, and Kensei can have them a couple times a week for his class. Hopefully, we can figure out what's happening to them and help them. And maybe that shy little strawberry will come around," Shinji spoke the last in a wistful tone.