A/N: Hello! In this chapter, Ichigo has some possibly uncharacteristic angst. It's at the end. I can't make it too easy for them, right? ;D

I don't own bleach or victoria secret. Owning bleach would be cool, but I probably wouldn't really care if I owned victoria secret. Well, the money would be nice...but bleach makes a lot of money too...Whatever, point is, I own neither.

Chapter 5:

Where Ichigo brutally kills an Arrancar offscreen, Ichigo and Senna are placed in a awkward and purely sexual situation, and they go get ice cream, which turns into another awkward and sexual situation. 'Cuz, you know, Ichigo's life just sucks that much. Also, Ichigo has a dream, which turns into a nightmare, and angsts.

A lot.

Senna turned and stared at the strange man in white with the weird mask thing on his forehead, and he stared back dully. "...I came here to kidnap you." He said awkwardly, clarifying the reason why he was here. Senna blinked. "...Oh." Another awkward silence and Senna shifted her legs, feeling vulnerable and exposed, which was to be expected. "Uh...white looks good on you?" said the doomed Arrancar, in order to make conversation, since he felt the overpowering need to say something. Senna glared. "...Get out." The weirdo was already walking away. "On it."

Ichigo had killed the hollow with ease, and was already back in the dressing room hall when said doomed Arrancar exited the awkward air of Senna's dressing room. Spotting Ichigo approaching with a confused look on his face, he sighed. "C'mon. You can brutally kill me outside." And Arrancar 90.7 began to trudge towards the exit, a baffled Ichigo staring at him. "...Huh?" Senna stuck her head out of the broken door, and shot a reproachful look at the Arrancar. "Hey! Did you really have to break the door? You could've knocked!" The Arrancar stared, then smacked his forehead. Duh. Ichigo was beginning to figure out what happened, and the Arrancar felt the murderous reiatsu that screamed, "Die bastard DIE!" push down on him. Then Senna cocked her head. "But in all seriousness, does white really look good on me?" The Arrancar shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." Senna beamed.

Ichigo's reiatsu no longer screamed "Die bastard DIE!" but "You goddamn Fucker, you will die so slowly and painfully for doing what you did that you will wish Aizen was still alive to use his mind raping Zanpaktou on you, and then have Ichimaru slice you into pieces while listening to Tousen rant on about justice."

Arrancar 90.7 merely sighed again and began to walk to the exit doors. "Like I said, you can kill me brutally outside."

"Gladly." Ichigo growled, hand on his giant machete of a sword, his eyes already black and gold in killing intent, storming after Arrancar 90.7. He left, leaving Senna really, really, really confused. So she slowly pulled her head back into the room, gathered her clothes, and while no one was around, snuck into a empty room with a working lock.

Ichigo sprinted back to the Victoria Secret after brutally killing Arrancar 90.7, and skidded to a stop in front of Senna's reaitsu. His fists pounded the door. "Senna?"

"Hmm?" She asked from inside the door, sounding distant. Ichigo's worry increased tenfold. "Let me in!" He demanded and he heard a sigh. "Nothing happened. Let me-"

"Let me in. NOW." The 'NOW' implied heavily that if Senna didn't open the door, Ichigo would break it down. The door clicked open reluctantly, and Ichigo rushed in, slamming the door behind him and grabbing Senna's arms, he dragged Senna into his chest, relishing her warm body against his in relief. He clung to her desperately, as if to reassure himself that she was there; that she wouldn't fade away from him again. His left hand pressed against the small of her back, pulling her to him tightly and his right hand wove itself in her plum locks. Ichigo felt soft warm dainty fists grip the front of his shihakshou and Senna's body pressed closer to his automatically, seduced by Ichigo's worried hands. Tension in his shoulders and back slipped away as he bent down and pressed his cheek to the side of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair. ...It smelled different...but it still smelled really, really good. ...And familiar.

Pine needles. Fresh and sharp. And it was Ichigo's scent.

Senna had taken a shower that morning, and used Ichigo's shampoo. Ichigo, feeling his groin burn and harden, wondered if God just liked screwing with him. Ichigo started and held the startled and confused girl at arms length, his large hands still lightly grasping her forearms, and began to check for injuries of any sort. Ichigo saw none and as his worried adrenaline faded, he realized where he was.

In a dressing room.

With him holding onto Senna, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking her soft smooth skin.

...Alone.

With her wearing nothing but the white little nightdress she was trying on that the extremely recently deceased Arrancar 90.7 saw her trying on.

Heat flared in Ichigo's cheeks as he hastily back away from her. "Uh...I...erm..." Ichigo couldn't find words. He was too distracted with the fact that he could see all of Senna's legs and her underwear, which looked to be a lavender purple. Ichigo tried to swallow, but no saliva was left in his mouth, and all that came out of his mouth was parched choking noises. His shihakshou rubbed furiously on his straining cock as blood rapidly flowed down south from Ichigo's brain. Ichigo's chest heaved erratically as he tried to find breath. Dammit, what happened to all the oxygen in the room? His eyes felt heavy and hot with barely contained desire and need. Actual need. Like if Ichigo didn't do anything or leave in the next 30 seconds, he was pretty sure he was going to be consumed by the flames of hot pleasure that were licking his body sensually with their arousing tongues and die.

Senna was pretty mortified that Ichigo was actually seeing her in this, it wasn't something she had planned on buying, wearing, or even trying on. She was about to change into more modest clothes when Ichigo burst in, and she just took it with her into the room so Ichigo would think she was wearing it, since messing with Ichigo's head was a funny and addicting activity. But in the other dressing room, she decided that she had nothing to lose, and no one was going to see her in it anyway, so what the hell? Yeah. She was never doing that again. Mortification mixed with natural female paranoia that the scanty and sexy piece of clothing didn't look good on her and Ichigo didn't like it all. Of course, Ichigo did indeed like it to the point where it would haunt every single one of his dreams until he either died or actually did the deed with Senna. But it was a natural female fear that could not be vanquished. And there was also the fear for Ichigo's health, since he seemed to be hyperventilating and very flushed. Senna approached him slowly. "Ichigo?" She asked, seriously concerned for his health now. She didn't think pupils could be so large. Ichigo's eyes darted to her wide scared ones. "...Are you okay?" She asked softly.

"Narrghh..." Was Ichigo's intelligent reply. It was so damn hot in here. Was it always this hot, Ichigo dully wondered as he grabbed the collar of his shihakshou and attempted to fan himself. This plan backfired on the poor horny Shinigami, since this action only revealed his tantalizing chiseled and lean chest to Senna's wandering eyes. Senna now had her own fire in her eyes, and blushed lightly at the sight of Ichigo's muscled physique, a thin sheen of sweat making it appear irresistible. Ichigo noticed her staring, much like Senna often noticed him staring, and like Senna, felt intensely pleased and pleasured at the sight of her enjoying his body. The air was thick was tension and awkwardness, raw sexual need and magnetism so thick that Zangetsu himself wouldn't be able to even cut it. Ichigo eventually stumbled out the door and staggered his way back to his body. Senna changed back into her regular clothes and Ichigo paid for her purchases, and the two left the store silently.

Urahara and Isshin had been taking a break from their Ichigo-Senna stalking, and returned as the two were leaving the store, churros in their hands. The two stared as Ichigo and Senna, the latter with an extra shopping bag, walked out of the store stiffly and woodenly. A heavy tension oozed from the pair, a tension so dense and obvious, that everyone they passed stopped to stare at the couple quizzically. Urahara glared at Isshin.

"You just had to get the churro. Didn't you?"

"...Sorry. Anyway, I have to run home so I can get there before them so they don't figure out I was here."

"Oh. Well, see you later. We should do this again."

"I know! I'll call you when they go on their next 'date'."

"See ya then!"

Ichigo's eyes slid towards the petite girl walking along side him, eerily sober. It was starting to freak Ichigo out, though he could understand. The delicious and mouth watering (or mouth drying, since that what Ichigo's mouth seemed to do when he thought about it) images of Senna in the transparent skirt and lacy torso of the Victoria Secret Nightgown flashing through his mind like a slideshow. The sight, the smell, the touch...all of it burned in Ichigo's mind like white hot wicked flames. Ichigo soon deducted that he needed a distraction. He glanced around and saw it. "Hey Senna." Senna looked up, staring up at him from under long eyelashes questioningly. "Yeah?"

"Wanna get some ice cream?"

Senna must radiate some type of vibe or ray or something, that made Ichigo do extremely stupid things. I mean, he was aroused and horny beyond belief, and his solution? Take the source and give it ice cream. One of the most erotic foods ever. I mean, to eat it, you had to lick it. And then you had to lick it in ways that was beyond sexual to get it all. Granted, Ichigo had never had the chance to realize how utterly hot ice cream could be before now, so it was his own ignorance's fault. But still. Ichigo stared, face slack, his ice cream cone beginning to melt onto his hand, as Senna licked her strawberry cone happily. Senna. Licking. Strawberry ice cream. The number of sexual implications involving Ichigo, Senna, and licking was overwhelming. Ichigo could only watch in dull horror and stimulation as Senna's tongue licked, caressed, and massaged the pink frozen treat vigorously and eagerly. Senna looked up from her cone, staring at his chocolate ice cream held loosely in his hand in exasperation. "You should eat that." she told him offhandedly, turning back to her strawberry. "It's melting." Ichigo jumped, and began to frantically lick up the melting chocolate that was making his jittery knuckles sticky. Senna peeked over her cone, thinking about how cute Ichigo looked surprised like that, and began to wish that it was her hand that Ichigo was licking. And how nice it would be if Ichigo moved on from her hand, and moved on to her arm. Or her lips. Or her chest, or maybe even her-

Senna cut these thoughts off quickly with a light blush and resumed eating her cone, letting out a "Mmmm..." of delight.

Ichigo twitched as a painful jolt of overpowering lust shot through his body, his hard on begging for attention, grinding against the combined forces of his boxers and denim jeans. Ichgio groaned silently at the addicting and excruciating sensation. The two finished their ice cream in even more tremendous sexual tense silence than before. "Done." Ichigo said, mouth full of ice cream cone and Senna nodded, having finished her cone minutes before. She stood up with a bounce, and picked up her shopping bags and turned to face Ichigo, who noticed a smidge of pink on her cheek. Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Hey Senna," he drawled lazily, raising his thumb and giving it a short lick, "you've got ice cream on your face." He took his now moist thumb and swiped it roughly over over the pink splotch on Senna's face. Senna, face turning to the side, grabbed his wrist and squirmed, eyes squeezed shut. "Hey! Stop that!" Ichigo shook his head, not that she saw. "Idiot. You have pink on your face. Stop struggling." Luckily or unluckily, the two were so engrossed in their 'battle' that they didn't realize how couple-y they looked, nor noticed the sexual opportunity that the situation produced. Fortunately for the already straining Ichigo, neither he nor Senna noticed, and Ichigo was finally able to get the pink strawberry off her face. The cheerful atmosphere restored, the two made their way back to the Kurosaki house, bags swinging, Senna darting about curiously as per normal. The two arrived home, and Senna walked upstairs with her bags as Ichigo fought off his father.

"THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT YOUR SON? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?"

"You ungrateful son! How dare you talk to your loving father like that?"

"SHUT UP!"

Kon deducted that Ichigo's room was no longer a safe place to sleep. At first he thought it was a fluke, but no, Kon could never sleep there again.

EVER.

His plushie paw pushing open the door, he trudged down the hall to the twin's (and Senna's) room, Ichigo's sleep induced breathy moans following him, despite having closed the door. They echoed in his head, like the memory of a terrible accident, to mentally scar him forever. As Kon settled in his makeshift bed made of small old pillow from the living room under Karin's bed, he cursed Ichigo. Cursed him dearly. Sure, Kon was a pervert. But at least he didn't have kinky dreams that kept his roommate awake all friggin' night. Stupid Ichigo bastard.

Ichigo tossed and turned in his bed, eyes squeezed shut, sweat glistening on his forehead and his breath was shallow. One might deduce he was having a nightmare. Alas, that was not the case. People who knew Ichigo would hope it was a nightmare, for that would be less traumatic for the poor souls. Nope. Luckily, those poor souls was limited only to Kon. Picture Orihime walking in on Ichigo sleeping.

That poor, poor, high pitched girl. Of course, this is a hypothetical situation, so no need to pity the not mentally scarred girl. Yet.

Ichigo was in a dark room. He glanced down. He was wearing a black Chinese style shirt with orange ties down the front keeping the shirt closed. A orange design of a broad sword extended from his lower right ribcage across the top to over his heart, where a backwards orange moon resided. The collar was open, revealing the orange inside. His long black sleeves were rolled up to below his elbows, creating makeshift orange cuffs. Black pants covered his lower body, the ends tied to his ankle with orange string. Chinese slippers of black with orange soles adorned his feet. He was sitting on a large round bed with red silk sheets and maroon velvet pillows with golden and orange tassels. A large open window faced the magnificent bed, thin white curtains blowing gently from the soft and cool breeze that blew in. Pale dove moonlight cast a ethereal glow to the mysterious room. Ichigo turned his head to the window, seeing a great expanse of water out in the land beyond the glass. It's black surface glittered with white diamonds from the moon as the water lapped the unseen shore gently. The full moon glowed among the shinning heavens amidst a navy blue sky. Ichigo pushed himself up, and his slippers padded the wooden floor silently, as he approached the open window frowning. Where was he? What was this place...?

Tap, tap, tap. Sounds of approaching footsteps against wood sent tension through Ichigo's body. Automatically sliding into a fight stance, he whirled around, hand shooting to his back for the absent Zangetsu. When he laid his eyes on the intruder, however, his hand fell limply to his side and he sagged, gaping. It was Senna, bathed in the cool moonlight, looking like a celestial angel from a nonexistent heaven. Her purple plum hair looked midnight black with shadow, her skin a seemingly creamy ghost white. The contrast made her plump red lips' allure jump out, her light autumn eyes gleaming. She sauntered towards him, hips swaying sexily. Ichigo's eyes roamed over her hungrily. The lacy design and sheer skirt was all too familiar to him, except this time he didn't attempt to stop himself from feasting his eyes on her body. Ichigo let out a soft whistle of appreciation, his groin hot, at the sight of Senna's scarlet red panties and bra, highly noticeable through the white thin fabric. His eyes slid to one of his favorite attributes of her body; her long fit flawless legs. They moved alluringly, tauntingly, seeming to stretch on forever thanks to the black stiletto heels gracing her slender feet, the straps attracting focus to her ankles. Senna came to a stop just inches from Ichigo, who stood taunt, face hot with lust, his eyes devouring her form. Ichigo could feel her body heat and reiatsu mingle with his, and he shuddered delightfully. She beamed up at him, the innocence of the expression banished and sucked away thanks to the entrancingly hot outfit she was wearing. "Hi Ichigo!" She chirped happily and Ichigo swallowed thickly. "H-Hey." He stammered uneasily, unable to tear his eyes from obviously staring at her thighs. Her beautiful, hot, sexy thighs...

Giggling, she moved up towards him, now only a centimeter apart. Ichigo's already shallow breath hitched. The miniscule distance between them was too much to stand. His eager erection rubbed against the smooth fabric of his pants erotically, the coolness of the silk teasing him more than his rough jeans ever could. Ichigo felt burning hot hands slide up his chest and wind around his neck, and Ichigo gasped at the unexpected and extraordinarily welcome contact. His arms snaked around her thin waist, pulling her even closer, his arousal pushing against thighs. She mumbled something into his chest inaudibly, her head tilting up to peek up at him impishly. Ichigo tried to say something, possibly something witty, or maybe even romantic.

Instead, all he got out was, "Nrrghhh..." Ichigo mentally face palmed, but said irritation and fury with himself melted away like a Popsicle in the sun when he felt soft lips nibble on his exposed throat. Ichigo groaned pleasurably, eyes sliding shut dreamily. "Senna..." Ichigo angled his head down and captured her lips with his, kissing her passionately and roughly, his hands now massaging her hips, making her moan with delight. Wrapping his arms around her strongly, he hiked her up and her feet dangled above the ground for a moment before she locked her legs around his waist. Growling satisfactorily, he distractedly made his way to the large and welcoming bed. Falling sideways onto the soft silk sheets, they became tangled together, desperately working the ties on Ichigo's shirt. Ichigo's tongue slid over her swan neck, circling over her pulse as her fingers quickly undid the obnoxious ties keeping his shirt together. Ichigo snarled in impatience, and finally just tore the expensive looking top from his torso, throwing himself on top of Senna eagerly, rolling their hips together savagely, crashing his lips on hers. Their hot tongues battled, hips grinding together as their needy hands explored each others bodies curiously and anxiously. Ichigo pulled the flimsy and annoying nightgown off her slender curvy body, his right hand stroking her neck and his left lay flat on her writhing stomach. "I-Ichi...Ichigo..." She gasped around his lips and Ichigo smirked, loving the way she said his name. "Hm?" He answered, toying with her hair with one hand, tracing circles on the start of her breasts with the other. Senna stared up at him with eyes hazy with pleasure and need, Ichigo returning the intense gaze. "Ichigo..." Ichigo lowered his mouth to her clavicle and began to suck and lick the sweet tasting skin. "Senna..."

"Ichigo..." Something was a little different about Senna's tone, and Ichigo slowed his ministrations. "...Senna?" Senna whimpered. "Ichigo." Ichigo raised his head, confused, agitated, and worried from her tone. Her eyes were wide and wild, not from pleasure or need, but fear. "Senna?" Senna stared, terrified, over his shoulder, and Ichigo turned his head to see nothing there. Ichigo frowned, eyes darkening with trepidation, and turned back to Senna.

Who wasn't there anymore. Ichigo's breath hitched in fear. Where-

"ICHIGO!" Ichigo's head shot up and stared in horror. Senna was in a forceful chalk white grip, struggling, as it dragged her away. Black nails dug into her soft delicate skin, and she cried out in pain. Ichigo, terror swelling up in him, scrambled up from the bed desperately. "SENNA!" He cried, sprinting towards them. "ICHIGO!" Senna screamed again, and her captor laughed manically and cruelly, before tilting his head down to ear and purring, "There's no escape." He bit her shoulder violently and suddenly, drawing pinpricks of blood, relishing her screams of pain and panic, his sickly blue tongue lapping it up ravishingly. Ichigo saw crimson. "YOU BASTARD!" He roared and the monstrosity laughed amusedly, mouth opening widely, revealing sharp teeth and a dull blue tongue. His gold and black eyes glinted sadistically with mirth and lust for the squirming girl. He stepped into a mirror on the wall, and it began to suck him in, the reflective surface rippling like a pooling and lapping both him and Senna deeper inside. His long equally white hair tossed as he threw his head back and laughed. Laughed at Ichigo, and at the fearful Senna, reaching for Ichigo to save her. "Too late King." Ichigo's Hollow sang in a mocking drawl. "You've lost." Senna's head and body was drawn in. Ichigo ran towards her, hand outstretched to meet hers and pull her back to him. Ichigo could see long scratches on her sides where the Hollow had ran his long midnight fingernails on her skin. Senna's arm was the only part not submerged in the fluid mirror, and the Hollow cackled with cruel glee, still dragging her down. Ichigo grabbed her reaching hand hysterically, locking his clammy fingers with hers, and wrapping his other desperate hand around her wrist. He pulled frantically, but the Hollow was in too deep and the Hollow knew it. With a jerk, Senna's hand slipped from his, and she vanished into the mirror, giving Ichigo one last look at wild, panicked huge orange eyes before the mirror's surface trembled, and the Hollow and Senna vanished. Ichigo stood there limply, disbelieving, hand still grasping air. "No..." He whispered, before charging towards the mirror, pounding his fists on now solid glass. "NO!" Savage and jubilant laughter filled the room, echoing, the faint sound of Senna's screams accompanying it. Ichigo whirled around. "GIVE HER BACK!" He screamed to the empty room, hearing the now crashing water from the window. The Hollow giggled. Senna shrieked.

"SENNA!"

"Too late King. She's not coming back to you." The Hollow simpered, maliciousness dripping from his words like poison.

"She's not your Queen anymore." Ichigo fell to his knees in horror, clutching his head in tight white hands. "No..."

"She's mine."

"SENNA!" Ichigo yelled, bolting up, breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Panting, he looked around. He wasn't on his bed anymore, but on the wooden floor, his blanket still half on the bed, half tangled in his legs. Moonlight seeped into his room cheerfully, casting a white blue glow on the scared teen. Ichigo closed his eyes, head falling to his chest. Breath still coming in sharp gasps, his put a hand to his head, feeling smooth skin and soft orange hair. No mask... Gulping, he untangled himself from the sheets and shakily stood up, and staggered to the bathroom. Filling the sink with cool water, he dunked his head in the full basin, jolting as the remaining sleep from his eyes fled. A dream...Ichigo thought to himself reassuringly. Just a dream...a nightmare... He leaned over the sink, his hands gripping the edges. Pushing himself straight, he made his way to Karin and Yuzu's room. Sliding in quietly, he stepped softly to the third and occupied bed crammed into the smallish room. Senna slept peacefully, on her side, with her hair splayed out adoringly. Ichigo breathed lightly. Just a dream. His fingers ghosted over her cheek, and she smiled sleepily. "Ichigo..." Ichigo's heart tightened. No...he couldn't do this to her. Lust after her, love her. There was too much danger, to much risk of her getting hurt because of the monster he was. He backed away from her rapidly, slipping out of the room. The nightmare opened his eyes to the truth. And as Ichigo settled back into back, his heart heavy, he knew that it was never meant to be.

Senna was pure and innocent. An angel.

And he was a devil, a demon, drowned in blood and darkness. A monster.

And he refused to drag her down into Hell with him, just to satisfy his own selfish desires.

In the other room, Senna frowned disturbed, eyes blinking open. She turned her head to the door, eyes clouding with an emotion that she couldn't exactly identify. It was stormy and raging in her heart, dark clouds of worry and sadness.

...Ichigo...

A/N: See? Lots of Ichigo angst. Hope you enjoyed. Review, and chibi Hollow Ichigo will give you pockey! Yum...pockey.