Three things before we get started. PLEASE READ.

One: I am SO SORRY it took so long to get this chapter up. Basically, life can sometimes suck—in case any of you haven't already noticed, lol.

Two: I don't really know when this story takes place/which arc it falls under. I've been vaguely imagining somewhere during the Arrancar one. I say this, because I'm bringing in a few more characters, and I don't want to confuse any sort of timeline. (The reviewer, "Nomnom", lol—ha. You saw right through me on the "certain Arrancar" idea…)

Three: I love you all. Your reviews have been absolutely hilarious (I especially like that several people have said how relatable this story is, lol) and have made me determined to come back and finish what I started. That being said, here we go!

Chapter Three:

Despite the fact that Yoruichi was still absolutely paralyzed with laughter by the time Rangiku showed up at the Shoten, both she and Urahara had adamantly refused to open the Senkaimon so that Rangiku could follow Ichigo into Soul Society and drag him back into the material world.

"I think he wants you to leave him alone," Yoruichi had informed Rangiku in between helpless chuckles. "You're scaring the shit out of him."

"Poor Kurosaki-san," Urahara had chimed in thoughtfully, before the two of them exchanged brief glances and burst into laughter once more.

Needless to say, Rangiku was not pleased and had returned to the DKV's base of operations (AKA, Orihime's living room) in a foul mood.

"This is ridiculous," she snaps, pacing agitatedly back and forth as her team (Ikkaku and Orihime—Yumichika's out of commission, curled up in the corner with an ice pack pressed to his face and mourning his broken nose), plus her additional, unwilling recruits (Renji, Rukia, Chad, and Ishida) look on. "He can fight off all kinds of hollows but he can't make it with a girl? What the hell's the matter with that kid? He doesn't want to stay a virgin for the rest of his life!"
"Well, how would you know?" Rukia points out, annoyed. "It's not like you ever asked him."

Rangiku ignores this.

"There must be something we're missing," she continues, appealing to the rest of the group. "Don't you think? Otherwise he wouldn't be so unwilling."
"Maybe if you hadn't announced it in the middle of school," Ishida suggests wryly, though more out of his own annoyance about class being interrupted than a genuine concern for Ichigo's well-being.

Rangiku ignores this as well.

"He's got to like someone," she insists, now glaring menacingly at Chad, Orihime and Rukia, certain that they're withholding some vital clue, or piece of valuable information that might help them achieve their mission. "Hasn't he ever mentioned somebody, or had a crush, or…?" She trails off miserably, the three of them already shaking their heads.

"It's never come up."
"Kurosaki-kun and I don't talk about that kind of thing with each other."

"And even if I did know," Rukia concludes stubbornly, crossing her arms, "I wouldn't tell you. You should leave him al—"

"Yes, yes. I heard you the first ten times," Rangiku snaps and rolls her eyes, before turning hopefully toward Ishida and Renji.

"Don't look at me," Renji says quickly before she can even open her mouth. "I got no idea."

"Neither do I," Ishida adds, and shoves his glasses up along the bridge of his nose. "For all I—and you—know, he could be asexual. It certainly seems that way."

"He better not be, with all the trouble I'm going through for him," Rangiku mutters, and kicks out angrily at the couch, succeeding only in stubbing her toe.

"Well, maybe," Orihime begins reluctantly, but stops short at the sound of a series of electronic beeps from the other room, followed by a faint, curious voice calling out.

"Hello? Shiro-tan? Rangiku-chan? Are you there?"

"Is that…?" Chad begins in surprise, but Rangiku has already vaulted over the couch and gone racing into the other room (stumbling a little over the door she broke open the previous day, which is still barely clinging to its hinges) in order to beat Hitsugaya to the screen. Kyouraku is peering uncertainly into the room, but his face lights up as she enters.

"Afternoon, Rangiku-chan!"

"Captain," she replies politely. By now, the rest of the group (minus Ikkaku and Yumichika) have clustered in the doorway as well, astonished by Kyouraku's unexpected appearance. Admittedly, it's a little irritating having them all huddled together and staring, but Rangiku lets them be: she's going to need some sort of blockade to protect her, in case Hitsugaya shows up.

"So," Kyouraku continues briskly, and claps his hands together twice. "From what I gather, you're probably interested in the current whereabouts of one Kurosaki Ichigo, no?"

"Yes!" Rangiku replies eagerly, thrilled to at last have some sort of lead again. "We were—"

"I know," Kyouraku says with a grin, cutting her off. "I've heard all about his 'problem' and your group's, uh…solution."

"Her solution," Rukia grumbles from the doorway. Rangiku makes a mental note to throw her shoe at Rukia's head at the next available opportunity.

"We tried to help," Rangiku explains, pretending as though she wasn't just oh-so-rudely interrupted, "but he ran off to Soul Society, and Urahara-san wouldn't let us through. So we've—"

"Kisuke-san was the one who helped him get to Soul Society?" Kyouraku interjects yet again, but he sounds intrigued now, one eyebrow raised thoughtfully, as if some new idea has just suddenly occurred to him.

"Yes, sir," Rangiku continues, trying her best to hold back the impatient edge threatening to creep into her voice. Mission or not, she's still talking to one of the oldest, and most (although questionably, at times) respected captains in Soul Society. "We've been trying to think of other ways to—"

"Kisuke-san?" Kyouraku repeats, openly smirking by now. "Really?"

"Er…" Rangiku glances at the rest of the group, who seem equally bewildered by Kyouraku's musings. "Yes. He's the only one who—"

"Imagine that," Kyouraku murmurs, and chuckles to himself. Rangiku doesn't see what's so damn funny; if not for her years of training, and Kyouraku's rank (and the screen separating them, for that matter), she'd be grabbing him by the front of shihakusho with one hand, the other reaching for Haieneko, ready to beat the information she needs out of him.

"You didn't happen to find him, did you, sir?" she asks instead through gritted teeth, her fingers twitching longingly for the hilt of her sword. Kyouraku nods wryly.

"I did. I actually tried to…help him as well," he adds with a meaningful look. Rangiku's eyebrows fly up, as behind her Orihime lets out a squeak. Chad, Ishida, Renji, and Rukia all appear equally stricken, and Kyouraku frowns at them, before another burst of laughter escapes him.

"No! No, not me! I tried to…" he bites at his lower lip, fighting back another smirk. "I tried introducing him to a few friends of mine. It didn't go over so well. Also, Captain Zaraki is now after him. That wasn't my fault, I don't think," he adds, in response to the horrified giggle that escapes Renji. Kyouraku sighs and thinks for another moment, then taps the screen again to get Rangiku's attention.

"If I'm right—and I believe I am, since Kurosaki-kun can only run for so much longer before they—"

"'They'?" Rukia asks, alarmed. "How many people are—?"

"—he'll probably be heading back to Karakura soon. You can head him off then."

"Excellent!" Rangiku cries, all smiles again, now that her plan is back on track. "So all we need to do is find a girl—"

She stops short as Kyouraku gives another laugh. There's an oddly mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leans closer to the screen in a confidential manner and says in a whisper: "One more thing, Rangiku-chan. If I were you, I wouldn't bother with the girl."

He winks meaningfully at her, nods cheerily to the others, and then disappears as the screen gives another series of short beeps and goes black. Rangiku blinks several times, bewildered, before turning to the others in the hope that they were somehow able to make sense of Kyouraku's cryptic words. They look as utterly lost as she feels, though.

"The hell is that supposed mean?" Renji grumbles, flopping down on the couch again as they trudge back into the living room. "Bastard never makes any sense."

"Renji," Rukia begins reproachfully, but Rangiku cuts her off with a groan of frustration, as she rakes her fingers through her long hair.

"Stupid kid," she snaps, kicking out again (though taking care this time to avoid the couch. Her toe's still throbbing.) "Why is he being so damn stubborn? What's his problem, anyway?"

From where she's curled up in her chair, Orihime gives a sudden, soft gasp; her eyes are wide with apprehension, as she slowly raises one trembling hand.

"What?" Rangiku demands suspiciously, fully expecting yet another stuttering plea to leave Ichigo alone. Which is probably part of the reason why what Orihime actually says next is so thoroughly shocking.

"What if…" Orihime says slowly, as if she's still turning the idea over in her head. She bites at her lower lip nervously, glances quickly around at all of them, and then continues, in barely a whisper: "What if what Kyouraku-san meant is…is that Kurosaki-kun's…gay?"

A stunned silence greets her words—broken only when Renji, after a moment of initial disbelief, gives a loud bark of laughter.

"What?" he demands, grinning broadly. "C'mon, Inoue, there's no way." He gives a disbelieving chuckle and nudges Chad, seated beside him, in an invitation to join in on the joke. Renji's grin quickly fades, however, as he takes in the disturbingly thoughtful expressions on everyone's faces.

"I suppose that's not…completely unlikely," Rukia begins, a finger tapping her chin, unable to hold back a small smile. "It would sort of make sense. He isn't really comfortable hanging out with a lot of girls."

"He's never asked anyone out, either," Chad adds in dawning realization, exchanging a bemused look with Ishida and Orihime, who are seated together across the room and both nodding in agreement at his words.

"And he's never once checked out my boobs!" Rangiku concludes, a fanatical glint appearing in her eye once more as she pumps her fist in the air triumphantly. "You've done it again, Orihime!"

"Hang on!" Renji squawks, interrupting Rangiku's burst of cackling and jumping to his feet, arms folded across his chest. He turns on Rukia, one tattooed eyebrow raised disapprovingly. "Seriously?" he demands. "Think about what you're saying. How—why would he be gay?"

"Well, I don't know," Rukia retorts waspishly, "why would you be gay?"

Ikkaku pauses in his quiet consoling of Yumichika (still pouting) to shoot Renji a knowing look, unsuccessfully stifling a chuckle. Renji's cheeks go as bright red as his hair.

"But—but I'm not!" he stammers loudly in protest. There's an awkward silence, interrupted by a cough from Ikkaku that sounds suspiciously like, "Byakuya." Renji's face contorts in embarrassment, but he's saved by Rangiku's ranting, who's back to pacing feverishly around the living room.

"That's it," she mutters to herself, and then louder: "That's it! Kurosaki's afraid to come out! He thinks we'll reject him if we know, so he's been forced to sacrifice his romantic passions through the years for the sake of friendship!"

"Dunno where she gets these theories," Ikkaku mutters out the side of his mouth, though he's careful to keep his voice low, so Rangiku won't overhear. Rukia, not yet as wise as Ikkaku, gives a derisive snort.

"You sound like a bad TV drama," she says flatly, and then ducks to avoid the incoming shoe aimed for her head.

"Is that really true?" Orihime asks, wringing her hands, utterly distraught at the prospect of Ichigo's supposed "suffering."

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Rangiku concludes solemnly. "We've never made it clear that we wouldn't mind if he were gay, have we? How was he supposed to know?"

Her words carry unexpected weight. Chad seems troubled by this revelation, as does Ishida; Rukia, preparing a snide comeback as she emerges from under the cover of the couch, is caught off-guard by the flicker of guilt that Rangiku's statement triggers in her. Even Ikkaku and Yumichika glance up from their corner with twin expressions of concern.

There's another quiet moment.

"I'm not gay," Renji interjects loudly.

Everyone ignores him.

He's got a plan. Believe it or not, in the midst of running for his goddamn life, and taking into consideration that he's more of a "stab first, ask questions later" kind of a guy, Ichigo's managed to come up with a plan to get himself out of this nightmarish situation. Admittedly, it's kinda half-assed, but given his current circumstances (being chased around for the past hour and a half by a homicidal maniac/would-be rapist and a gang of prostitutes), Ichigo thinks it's pretty damn good.

Considering.

Ichigo dives around another corner, narrowly avoiding being spotted by a curvy blonde prowling past, her outfit (not that she was wearing much to begin with, he notes in embarrassment) starting to come undone from the chase. Still, between the two, he'll take the prostitutes over Kenpachi—who, Ichigo is happy to report, is currently all the way on the other side of Seireitei. Thank God for Yachiru and her complete inability to tell her ass from her elbow, much less her right from left.

Ichigo heaves a quiet sigh of relief and slumps against the wall behind him, taking a moment to breathe and wipe the sweat off his forehead. So, here's what he's thinking: he's gotta find some way to get back to Karakura. Rangiku may be legitimately insane, but at least she hasn't tried to rape him (yet.) All he's got to do is avoid her long enough to try and find someone willing to play along and pretend to sleep with him. That way, he'll have someone to vouch for him, Rangiku will leave him the hell alone, and nobody will ever know the truth or have to mention his virginity again. Case closed.

The only snag is…who? Probably Rukia, Ichigo thinks, and allows himself a soft, if uncomfortable laugh. She does owe him, since it's her fault he's in this situation in the first place, but that doesn't mean it won't be incredibly awkward all the same. He doesn't want to fake being straight, but he hasn't come out yet (and given his current circumstances, Ichigo doesn't think now would be the best time to reveal that particular piece of personal information.) Anyway…it's not like he knows any other guys who are out…or even interested in him, if they were.

But…didn't Urahara nearly kiss you? a sly voice at the back of his mind remarks, and Ichigo blushes a little at the thought. It's true…they did seem awfully close, back in Urahara's basement; but it's a hazy memory at best. Ichigo can't be entirely sure on the details, given that he was both preoccupied with escaping Rangiku's clutches, and on the verge of fainting from being so close to his crush. In all likelihood, he's probably misinterpreting what really happened—hoping pathetically for something that's not actually there.

Ichigo's chest tightens miserably. Why would someone like Urahara ever be interested in him?

"Psst! Kurosaki!"

Ichigo twitches nervously at the sound of his own name, one hand flying automatically to the hilt of his sword as he glances up. He's surprised to find Kiyone peering at him around a nearby corner, her cheeks flushed with excitement. As soon as she sees that she's got his attention, she begins gesturing furiously for him to come closer. Ichigo hesitates.

"What do you want?" he demands warily. Kiyone raises an eyebrow in momentary confusion at his tone, and then rolls her eyes with more exasperation than Ichigo feels is entirely necessary.

"Don't worry," she tells him dryly, "you're not my type. I have a message for you, from Captain Ukitake. He has to plan to help you get out of here!"

Ichigo's heart leaps a little at her words, but he doesn't move—not yet. He can't help but be cautious: the last time someone tried to "help" him is how he wound up in his current predicament. But…Ukitake's always seemed slightly more sane than the majority of the other captains in the Gotei 13; Ichigo can't really see someone like Kiyone secretly conspiring with Kenpachi to attack him, either.

He slowly edges out of his hiding spot, glancing all around him as he does, in order to check for a potential, incoming ambush; he probably looks completely spastic, but he's not taking any chances. Much to his surprise, the corridor—swarming with women a few minutes before—is now completely empty. Kiyone notices his bemused expression and smirks wickedly.

"Kotsubaki's posing as you, to give you enough time to escape."

Far in the distance, a blood-curdling scream reaches them; Kiyone's grin widens further, and Ichigo goes pale.

"Let's get moving," he squeaks out, and Kiyone takes off down the corridor, Ichigo on her heels.

Grimmjow Jeagerjacques is in a rotten mood. Granted, he's usually in a rotten mood, but today seems to be especially Bad-with-a-capital-B, heading in a downward spiral directly towards Utter Shit. He's already strangled two Fraccions to death, knocked down an entire wall in his private quarters, and torn apart half a dozen Menos Grande. This, Grimmjow thinks fiercely to himself, is what happens when fucking "Aizen-sama" drags him out of bed at an ungodly hour, forces him to listen to some boring-ass speech about world domination, and then sends him out on a mission. With Ulquiorra.

"I still don't see what the point of this is," Grimmjow snaps, trailing far behind Ulquiorra, Halibel, and Stark as they make their way through the Garganta connecting Las Noches to the material world. Normally, Grimmjow would gladly embrace the opportunity to wreak some good old fashioned havoc on Karakura and, if he's lucky, kick the shit out of a certain orange-haired shinigami; normally, however, Aizen has enough sense not to partner him up with a certain green-eyed bastard with an entire fucking tree trunk shoved up his pale white ass.

At the head of the group, Ulquiorra pauses and turns to stare Grimmjow down with that eternally placid expression—the one that never fails to make Grimmjow want to tear it off his stupid face.

"We are being sent to gauge the strength of the shinigami posted in Karakura Town," Ulquiorra replies calmly, unable to keep out the faintest trace of condescension in his otherwise monotone voice. He pauses deliberately and then adds, with a shadow of a sneer, "Not that it is your place to question Aizen-sama's orders."

Grimmjow's upper lip curls, baring his teeth, ignoring the way Halibel is following their exchange with a barely repressed smirk. Stark seizes upon their hesitation and falls asleep on his feet, mouth hanging open, a glistening trail of drool already making its way down his chin.

"We should continue," Ulquiorra announces calmly, breaking the staring contest to eye Stark's drooling with vague disdain. "We have a schedule to keep to, and we would not want to disappoint Aizen-sama."

"Anything but that," Grimmjow mutters under his breath. Ulquiorra's eyes narrow fractionally, but a moment later he turns on his heel and resumes strolling forward, Halibel following him. Grimmjow glowers at their retreating backs, teeth grinding together as he resists the urge to spit out another snide remark. What he wouldn't give to rip Ulquiorra's eyes out, to put his fist through his head. Smug son of a bitch.

He'd be pushing it, though. Much as Grimmjow loathes to admit it, he's been testing Aizen's patience lately—the temper tantrum today just one more strike against him—and he doesn't need to give that bastard (possibly the only person in the world he hates more than Ulquiorra) an excuse to humiliate him in front of the other Espada again. Grimmjow represses a snarl, nails digging into the palms of his hands, threatening to break skin.

Breathe, he tells himself, and reluctantly forces his fists to uncurl. Some day soon, when they least expect it, he'll destroy them both—but until then, he'll have to wait. Wait, and settle for something…almost as satisfying, Grimmjow thinks, and allows himself a small smirk as he remembers bright orange hair, and an intoxicatingly powerful reiatsu. He jabs Stark once with his elbow, startling him awake so they can continue their trek through the Garganta's darkness.

Kurosaki, Grimmjow thinks to himself, and licks his lips in anticipation, I hope you're ready for me.

"I just—I don't know how to thank you," Ichigo says again for the seventh time in the past fifteen minutes, still half-giggling in relief as he wipes away the last traces of sweat. Ukitake merely chuckles in response, waving off Ichigo's gratitude.

"Think nothing of it, Kurosaki-kun. I couldn't very well sit by and let you be terrorized. And anyway, it's really—"

The rest of Ukitake's words are drowned out, however, by a series of squeaks as a high-powered drill goes off, alongside a chorus of clanging hammers and Akon shouting orders left and right at various members of 12th squad. Ichigo, Ukitake, and Kiyone are standing at the very center of Kurotsuchi's main laboratory: a large, dark, warehouse-type building that reminds Ichigo more of an underground cave. There seems to be a permanent chill hanging in the air, and a soft, mysterious fluttering sound occasionally comes from the rafters that loom over their heads—like at any moment, vampire bats might descend upon them.

"This place is Captain Kurotsuchi's pride and joy," Kiyone had muttered wryly to him under her breath when they'd first arrived, noticing the somewhat distasteful look on Ichigo's face; he'd quickly rearranged his expression into one of mild interest, but now, fifteen minutes later, it's getting harder to keep up the pretense for the sake of being polite. The only light in the place is from the flickering, wall-to-ceiling computer screens, and there are tables upon tables covered in various beakers of awful smelling chemicals. Between the two, Ichigo's starting to get a little light-headed, not at all helped by his exhaustion after running around non-stop for the past hour and a half in the sweltering heat.

All he can hope for, Ichigo thinks, as he turns away from Ukitake for a moment to survey the 12th squad as they scuttle around, lugging power tools twice their size behind them, is that this whole process doesn't take much longer. They're currently working on stabilizing a large, metallic frame of some kind that, so Ukitake claims, serves as a substitute Senkaimon and portal to the material world.

"Anyway," Ukitake continues cheerfully when the drill is shut off, as if he were never interrupted in the first place, "it's really no trouble at all. No doubt, Zaraki-san will be watching the main Senkaimon between Soul Society and the material world. This is the only possible solution—and I already knew Kurotsuchi was working on building an alternate gate."

"And…he's willing to help?" Ichigo asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He hasn't really had a chance to get to know Kurotsuchi, but based on the stories he's heard from Ishida, Ichigo's more than happy to keep it that way, thanks much.

"Out of the goodness of my heart," a calm, high voice interjects pleasantly, as Kurotsuchi emerges from a shadowy corner—like a vampire, Ichigo notes suspiciously—Nemu shuffling after him. He flashes them all a broad smile that is probably supposed to come off as benevolent, but only manages to make him look more demented than usual.

"Well…that's very kind of you," Ichigo offers awkwardly. Kurotsuchi's smile widens further, if possible, and he edges a little closer toward Ichigo, hauling Nemu after him.

"Have you met my daughter, Kurosaki-san?" he asks, and then adds in a perfectly conversational tone, before Ichigo even has a chance to answer, "She's a virgin too. Are you not, Nemu?"

Ichigo goes bright red at those words, his eyes darting to the floor to avoid meeting Nemu's blank gaze.

"No kidding. What, uh…what are the odds?" he replies rather stupidly, staring at his shoes. He misses the warning glare that Ukitake shoots Kurotsuchi, as well as Kiyone's attempts to stifle a snort of laughter. Mercifully (for the first time today, as a matter of fact) Ichigo's rescued from any further embarrassment by a low cough, as Akon approaches the group, head bowed respectfully.

"Captain Kurotsuchi, we've completed the substitute Senkaimon."

"Turn it on, then," Kurotsuchi snaps, irritated at the interruption. "See if you've improved it at all since last time."

Akon nods again and hurries over to where the rest of 12th squad is waiting for him, huddled around a main computer linked to the metal frame; there's a loud click, like a switch being thrown, followed by a low hum of electricity, as the Senkaimon comes to life with a rush of air and blue-white light. Ichigo raises a hand to shield against the glare—entirely unwilling to shut his eyes with Kurotsuchi now less than three feet away from him, and very pointedly nudging a docile Nemu even closer. A minute passes, then two, and a triumphant cheer goes up amongst the 12th squad.

"Stabilization appears successful!" Akon shouts over the noise. "Better hurry, though, captain. No telling how long it might last for this time!"

Ichigo directs his attention to Ukitake and Kiyone, both of them watching him expectantly.

"Really," Ichigo says, with the utmost sincerity, "thank you so much."

"There's never any need to thank me, Kurosaki-kun," Ukitake replies, sweeping into a low, elegant bow, hair framing his face in a perfect sweep. There are practically stars dancing in Kiyone's eyes, as she hovers reverently at his side. "I am eternally happy to help."

"Still," Ichigo replies, sheepish. There really isn't an eloquent way to express gratitude to the one person all day who's shown concern for any part of him that isn't below the waist.

"Don't I get a thank you of some kind?" Kurotsuchi hisses—in his freaking ear; Ichigo twitches violently and does a kind of half-leap into the air that, despite making him look perfectly ridiculous, also manages to get him a good distance between himself and Kurotsuchi, who's now practically shoving Nemu at him.

"Uh, yes," Ichigo mumbles. "Yes, thank you so much. I don't, er…know how I'll ever repay you."

"I'm sure I can think of something," Kurotsuchi says in his eerie sing-song voice. Ichigo swallows hard around a lump in his throat and pointedly does not dive behind Ukitake for protection, no matter how desperately he wants to.

"I think I'd better be going for now," he says instead, much louder than perhaps necessary, and with a final wave at Ukitake and Kiyone over his shoulder, starts for the waiting Senkaimon. He's gonna have to move fast, once he gets back to Karakura—start searching for Rukia's reiatsu before Rangiku picks up on his own; remember the plan, Ichigo tells himself repeatedly as he nears the gate, just remember the plan, and (somehow) everything will be all right.

And then several things happen at once.

Ichigo's less than a foot from the Senkaimon when a sudden rush of reiatsu appears just outside the laboratory—all too powerful and, much to Ichigo's horror, all too familiar—right before the doors are blown off their industrial size hinges; they fly through the air to crack several computer screens and topple over the lab tables, chemicals spilling everywhere. The explosion of reiatsu is also strong enough to knock out several 12th squad members, along with Nemu and Kiyone; Ukitake, Kurotsuchi, and Ichigo stagger a little, but manage to keep their balance.

"FOUND YOU!" a delighted voice cries, as the rubble clears, and Ichigo takes a step back, and then another, at the sight of Kenpachi looming in the remains of the doorway, Yachiru perched atop his head and waving gleefully at the three of them.

"Found you," Kenpachi agrees with a positively maniacal grin, pointing at Ichigo with the tip of his sword; Kotsubaki's unconscious body is clutched in one massive hand, a ridiculous orange wig slipping sideways off his head. Doesn't take much to fool them, I guess—thank God, Ichigo thinks weakly, struggling not to pass out himself.

"Now, Zaraki-san," Ukitake begins in a placating tone, stepping into Ichigo's path with one hand raised; the other is moving for the hilt of his sword. "It's no good. Kurosaki-kun doesn't want to—"

"Be gone, Zaraki!" Kurotsuchi cuts Ukitake off impatiently, shoving him out of the way. "He's mine now. I require a virgin for experimentation—you'll only ruin my tests!"

"Ken-chan saw him first!" Yachiru howls back in righteous indignation. "You're not playing, it's not fair!"

Never mind that they're talking about me like I'm not even here, Ichigo notes, annoyed.

"Come here, Ichigo!" Kenpachi roars , as a second burst of reiatsu floods through the lab; the frame of the Senkaimon creaks in warning under the strain, the portal wavering dangerously. Kurotsuchi snarls and draws his sword as well, raising it high over his head in warning.

"The gate's not going to hold much longer!" Akon yells, pausing in his efforts to drag the unconscious lab assistants to safety. Ukitake, picking himself up off the ground, whirls around and spots Ichigo still hesitating by the entrance to the Senkaimon.

"Hurry, Kurosaki-kun!" he shouts, as Kurotsuchi's sword starts to glow, his own reiatsu mounting and clashing against Kenpachi's. Ichigo doesn't need to be told twice—he dives into the Senkaimon, just as he hears Kurotsuchi's cry of "BANKAI!", Kenpachi's eager cackle ringing out in response. Ichigo's feet hit the ground (so to speak), as all around him the hallway trembles, threatening to collapse. He hurtles down the passage at breakneck speed, heading toward the distant light waiting for him at the end.

Almost there, Ichigo thinks, panting and clutching at a stitch in his side, muscles screaming in protest. Almost safe.

If only that were the case.

The Garganta slides open just above Karakura's skyline, as one by one the Espada emerge. The light hurts Grimmjow's eyes after the darkness of Hueco Mundo, but he grits his teeth and focuses; ignores Ulquiorra, as he starts in on his little speech about their orders, and searches with his mind for Ichigo's unmistakable reiatsu.

"C'mon, Kurosaki," Grimmjow murmurs softly under his breath, ignoring the bemused, sidelong glance Halibel throws him. "Where the hell are you?"

"—Aizen-sama's suggestion that we track down Captain Hitsugaya, of 10th squad, and engage him in battle," Ulquiorra drones on and on. "That way, we may—"

He's not here. Grimmjow's eyes narrow, scanning the sprawl of Karakura beneath him; double, triple-checking—but Ichigo's not here, and a furious curse escapes him before he has the chance to silence himself. Ulquiorra falters, turning to stare him down with barely restrained frustration; under other circumstances, it might even make Grimmjow smile.

"What is wrong?"

"He ain't fucking here!" Grimmjow snaps, no longer willing to silence his anger as he kicks out viciously at the thin air. Somewhere deep down, he hates himself for throwing yet another hissy-fit in front of the others, but god damn it—he's bored, and he's pissed, and all he needs right now is to take it out on Ichigo's stupid, smug face, and the kid doesn't even have the decency to be around for it.

"We are not here for Kurosaki Ichigo," Ulquiorra informs him flatly, reading Grimmjow's mind (not that it was particularly difficult to guess.) "Captain Hitsugaya Toshiro is our priority, along with—"

"I don't give a shit about priorities!" Grimmjow snarls back, and Ulquiorra's right eye twitches ever so slightly. Halibel sighs, uninterested in their bickering; left to his own devices, Stark's already fallen asleep again, curled up in a nearby patch of cloud.

"We are to track Captain Hitsugaya, nothing more, nothing less. If you do not comply—" here, Ulquiorra's voice takes on just a hint of underlying menace "—I shall be forced to tell Aizen-sama that you did not see fit to obey his orders."

Grimmjow gives him the finger.

"I ain't going anywhere until Kurosaki comes back. You tell Aizen-sama he can suck my—"

Fortunately for Grimmjow, the rest of the threat is lost, as directly over his head the substitute Senkaimon opens and none other than Ichigo, gasping for air and tripping on his own robes, tumbles out and proceeds to land directly on top Grimmjow's head. Grimmjow staggers here and there, stunned, and then collapses in a heap of flailing limbs, Ichigo spitting and swearing like a deranged cat as he struggles uselessly to disentangle himself.

"Looks like he found you," Halibel remarks dryly. Ichigo finally manages to break free and scrambles to his feet, Zangetsu already in hand as he surveys the four of them with growing alarm. Grimmjow, slightly more dazed by the fall, takes a little longer to recover, though he does eventually haul himself upright. The instant his eyes lock with Ichigo's, though, Grimmjow's head clears and he shakes off his dizziness, reaching for Pantera

"Hey, there, shinigami," he drawls, a wicked glee soothing the murderous rage that overtook him just seconds before. "Imagine seeing you here." He bares his teeth at Ichigo in a eager grin, and a surge of delighted anticipation courses through him as he watches Ichigo's expression twist in an ugly smirk to match Grimmjow's own. Off on the sidelines, Ulquiorra just barely manages to resist the temptation of rolling his eyes. He has an infinite amount of patience, really—except when it comes to these two.

"You picked a bad day to run into me," Ichigo tells them with a snarl, knees bending into a fighting stance.

"What a coincidence," Grimmjow replies, and takes a moment to shoot a nasty look in Ulquiorra's direction. "Same here."

Ichigo laughs harshly, and beckons for him.

"Bring it."

He never thought the day would come when he'd mean these words, but Ichigo is actually, totally, sincerely happy to see Grimmjow Jeagerjacques at this particular point in time. Any thoughts of his plan regarding his virginity have momentarily disappeared, as his fingers tighten around Zangetsu's hilt, any attempt to search for Rangiku's—or Rukia's, more importantly—reiatsu abandoned, as Ichigo tenses and waits for Grimmjow to attack.

Maybe it's stupid, to lose focus, and to do so willingly in spite of the voice in his head screaming at him that he's got more important problems to worry about. But the fact of the matter is, underneath the constant panic and humiliation he's been put through all day, there's something dark and enraged swirling in the pit of Ichigo's stomach; enough to make him sick—enough to make him desperate for a chance to lash out, fight back against somebody, anybody. Fighting is often the only way Ichigo can forget about all the chaotic shit that seems to be constantly bearing down on him; his coping mechanism against all the things in his life that he can't control, no matter how bad he wishes he could; and with Grimmjow standing right in front of him, ready to go, how can Ichigo possibly refuse?

Finally, Ichigo thinks as he raises Zangetsu in preparation to strike, something's going right.

Except for…not.

A low rumbling above their heads makes everyone (with the exception of Stark) freeze, and then glance up, watching in confusion as the stretch of sky just above them crackles with unnatural electricity. It's not a storm—the blazing afternoon sun is clear evidence against that, Ichigo thinks to himself with a frown, unintentionally letting down his guard.

"The fuck?" Grimmjow snaps, forgetting about their impending battle as well. The electricity grows even stronger, as a strong, steady pulse of reiatsu joins it; and Ichigo realizes, just as the doorway of the Senkaimon reappears, and flies open with a careless bang, what's about to happen.

Oh God, oh shit. He's gotta get out of here, and Ichigo staggers backward in a panic, fumbling with Zangetsu—or rather, he's gotta switch into freaking bankai mode, if he wants to move fast enough to stand a chance of escaping. But already, he's out of time, and—

The Senkaimon's door comes crashing open, and (of fucking course, Ichigo thinks weakly) none other than Kenpachi leaps out. His shihakusho's torn in several places, like Mayuri managed to score at least a couple of blows, and a few of his spikes have gone limp, but otherwise he appears no worse for wear. His fierce gaze sweeps over each of them, settling triumphantly on Ichigo.

"Miss me?" he purrs in an uncharacteristic attempt to be seductive. Ichigo might cringe if he weren't on the verge of bursting into tears of pure frustration.

"What the hell? How—why—what are you doing here?" Ichigo wails helplessly, by way of answer. He can sense Grimmjow shooting him a disapproving glare at his moment of weakness; Kenpachi, on the other hand, almost seems to enjoy Ichigo's despair, as he deliberately licks his lips and takes a menacing step toward Ichigo.

"Getting a piece of that virgin ass," he growls, and fucking winks. "Why else?"

Both of Grimmjow's jaws drop, Halibel's eyes go wide, and even Ulquiorra seems mildly startled at this announcement, all three of their heads swiveling toward Ichigo as they follow their exchange.

Ichigo, for his part, feels as if the bottom of his stomach has just dropped out; like he's in one of those horrifying nightmares that everybody else but him seems to have—the one where he's standing in the middle of school wearing nothing but his boxers while everyone points and laughs. But this is undeniably for real, and as his gaze passes over each of the Espadas astonished faces, Ichigo wants nothing more than to crawl under a rock and disappear.

Why them? is what he wants to scream at Kenpachi, if only he could find his voice, if only he could move instead of being frozen to the spot in numb humiliation. Why did you have to do this to me in front of them?

"You're…a virgin?" Grimmjow has recovered his voice at long length, staring at Ichigo as though Christmas has come early this year. There's a strange gleam in his eyes that Ichigo's not sure he likes, but he's too distracted to pay much attention.

"That information is not relevant to our mission," Ulquiorra interjects, trying to take control of the situation again and failing miserably: Grimmjow is literally bent-double with hysterical laughter, and even Halibel looks somewhat amused at this revelation; from his cloud, Stark snores loudly.

"Oi, Kurosaki," Kenpachi says, his gaze never once wavering from where it's fixed on Ichigo. "Now, listen up: we can do this the easy way, or…" He grins, savoring his next words. "…the hard way. Your choice."

"Neither," Ichigo snaps, finally regaining his voice, at least to a degree. It comes out less the intimidating growl he was aiming for, and more a mortified squeak, but Ichigo doesn't let it throw him as he hurls both Zangetsu and the largest wave of reiatsu he can summon at Kenpachi. It's not enough to knock him off balance—probably won't do more than make Kenpachi stumble—but all Ichigo needs is enough time to give him the chance to flee. All the fight has drained out of him at Zaraki's arrival, and he's back to his original plan of making a run for it.

Ichigo whirls quickly on his heel, preparing to bolt—can't even risk glancing back over his shoulder to see if his plan worked—scanning for Rukia's reiatsu as he lunges forward. He's yanked back, however, by the muscular arms that fold themselves around his waist. Ichigo's heart leaps into his throat, mind racing; there's no way Kenpachi could have recovered that fast—he's good, but he's not that good. That only leaves…

"Where you going so fast, eh, shinigami?"

Grimmjow's voice is a soft, almost gentle murmur, as he presses up close behind Ichigo, lips moving against the curve of his neck. For a moment, Ichigo prays that this is just a bizarre joke on Grimmjow's part—a way of screwing with him beyond the standard beatings and verbal taunts—right before Grimmjow's teeth graze against his skin. And Ichigo realizes, with a jolt of terror, that he's being completely serious.

"Stop," he demands, but the order loses its edge as one of Grimmjow's hands dips lower, stroking along his hip; his tongue flicks teasingly at the shell of Ichigo's ear.

"Poor Kurosaki. If I'd known you were a virgin, I'd have done this so much sooner." Grimmjow's speaking in little more than a whisper now, as he starts sucking and biting at Ichigo's neck. Ichigo, for his part, thrashes against his hold, unable to break free. He's suddenly hoping that Kenpachi isn't knocked out, or that the other Espada—Ulquiorra, at least—will step in, make Grimmjow back off.

Nobody comes to his rescue, though, and Grimmjow grips him even tighter; the hand splayed on Ichigo's hip goes lower still.

"Does it feel good, Ichigo, being touched like this?" Grimmjow's hand begins to move, gently cupping Ichigo's—much to his disbelief and horror—already half-hard erection. Ichigo's body is trembling violently, and flushed all over, hot and cold all at once. He feels both nauseous and yet, no matter how much he wants to deny it, unbelievably turned on. I don't want this to happen, he tells himself over and over again, in a feeble effort to resist Grimmjow's touch, I don't, I don't. The first time anyone's put their hands on him, and it's coming from his fucking rival, when Ichigo secretly wishes, more than anything, that it were from Urahara instead.

But…but no one's ever done this to him either, ever shown any interest in him, ever held him the way Grimmjow is right now. There's never been someone to whisper teasingly to him, to toy with his body, and it's good, better than he even imagined. A very small whimper escapes Ichigo, his hips bucking into the hand palming his cock before he can stop himself, and he feels Grimmjow smirk against his neck.

"Stop," Ichigo says again, his voice breathy and shaking with need. Grimmjow only chuckles, nipping at his earlobe.

"Make me."

Ichigo doesn't. Have to, that is. Kenpachi takes care of that much, as his sword drives through Grimmjow's shoulder, yanking them apart; narrowly misses taking off Ichigo's ear in the process—the one Grimmjow was so busy sucking on, he didn't notice Kenpachi creeping up behind him all the while.

"Back off! He's mine!" Kenpachi snarls, and flings Grimmjow violently through the air. Ulquiorra and Halibel, watching the scene unfolding in front of them with twin expressions of immense boredom, step calmly out of the way; Grimmjow crash-lands in the exact spot they were standing only seconds before. He lets out an animal howl of enraged pain, and pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, glowering hatefully back at Kenpachi.

"Says who?" Grimmjow retorts when he regains his breath, and gets to his feet, whipping out Pantera once more. Kenpachi starts toward Grimmjow with a warning growl—like a predator preparing to rip into its prey, Ichigo thinks wryly, as he struggles to get control over own his breath. In a sense, their jealousy might almost be oddly flattering. If, you know, he wasn't scared to death of both of them.

"I'll fight you for him too, if I have to."

"Let's see what you got!" Grimmjow fires back, and their blades lock with a clang of steel and a shower of sparks. Ichigo takes advantage of their lapse in focus and switches into bankai mode; the sudden surge in his reiatsu doesn't even deter them from their battle.

"They're more alike than I realized," he mutters to himself, and half-laughs, right as he goes speeding off in the opposite direction; racing to find Rukia, while trying hard as he can to shake off the sensation of Grimmjow's hands still trailing over his body.

"It's always like this," Ulquiorra remarks, in a tone that might almost be described as dejected, were he the emotional type. He watches dully for a minute, as Zaraki and Grimmjow exchange blows and insults, and then continues. "Every time we have a plan, no one ever goes along with it. I have told Aizen-sama this, time and again, to no avail."

Halibel pats his shoulder in an awkward attempt at sympathy.

"Perhaps," she suggests, after some consideration, "the two of us might still complete our mission. Kurosaki is an ally with Captain Hitsugaya. We can track him, and potentially determine Hitsugaya Toshiro's whereabouts."

A flicker of interest stirs within Ulquiorra.

"I suppose we could," he begins thoughtfully, eyes following Grimmjow as he's thrown through the air again. Leave Grimmjow to get the shit beaten out of him, and in the meantime, get all the glory for himself. Not a bad idea, that… Ulquiorra's almost mildly disappointed he didn't think of it first.

"And," Halibel adds, aqua eyes aglow with new inspiration, "Kurosaki's virginity might prove interesting information to Aizen-sama as well."

"An accomplished mission, for once, along with an additional prize," Ulquiorra concludes, guessing her thoughts. Halibel quirks an eyebrow at him, and he can tell beneath the hood that she's allowed herself a rare smile.

"If you want something done, you must do it yourself," she replies, and turns her body accordingly in the direction that Ichigo fled, poised to follow. Ulquiorra stares at her a moment longer, a ghost of a smirk fleeting across his otherwise still features.

"Quite," he agrees, and both of them sonido off, after Ichigo as well.

A few feet away, Stark gives a particularly loud snort and startles himself into brief wakefulness.

"What'd I miss?" he asks blearily, glancing about at his surroundings. Ulquiorra and Halibel have disappeared without so much as a goodbye, and in the distance, Grimmjow appears to be wrestling with some kind of large, spiked beast. Stark yawns widely.

"Do you need any help?" he calls out to Grimmjow; the response he receives is little more than an explosion of violent curses and the crack of Grimmjow's fist slamming into Kenpachi's jaw.

"Guess not," Stark mutters to himself, and curls back up into a ball, eyes fluttering closed once more. Grimmjow doesn't need him; if Ulquiorra and Halibel needed assistance, they'd have let him know (probably with a sharp kick to the head, he thinks to himself ruefully.)

Can't be anything real important or interesting about to happen, Stark assumes, as he drifts back into the dream he was having before of large purple elephants juggling watermelons.

…Right?

To Be Continued…

I've got "Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO stuck in my head on constant repeat, lol, and there's not a thing I can do about it. Oh, well. Again, thank you so much for sticking with me, and I promise the next update won't take nearly as long as this one did.

Thank you so much for reading!

—Rebel