Author's Note:
This is a behemoth of a chapter, probably the longest I've ever written in all my serialized stories. Before you go "hey you copied this from the canon!", yes, I did insert an incident from the canon into this chapter...intentionally. I try to "keep it real" wherever I can so that this feels...well, real. =)
Enjoy.
"Don't you wish you could save everyone the way you just saved me?"
Ichigo could not get Kugo Ginjo's voice out of his head. That meant more than twenty four hours of listening to his deepest, impossible wish in his head, over and over again. If it went on like that, he wasn't sure how long he would last before he snapped.
Of course he wished that he could. If such things like Santa Claus or the magic lamp existed, that would've been his one wish. Ideally that meant getting his shinigami powers back, but, really, he didn't care what it was as long as he regained the ability to protect the people he loved the way he could before. He had the strength, the will, and the passion; the only thing missing was a way to use those.
And so he sat in class, completely oblivious of the increasingly fierce glares from his teacher, and mulled over the stranger's words.
What a strange, strange man. The more he thought about it, the more certain he felt that this encounter with Kugo was not a coincidence. The man had wanted to meet him; whether it was just to observe him or simply to pass him that message, Ichigo had no idea.
He had briefly entertained the thought of telling Urahara about it right after it happened, but at the last minute, he abandoned the idea. Just because he was now seeing the man didn't mean he had to run to him every time he had something on his mind.
Seeing the man...now that's something he still needed to wrap his head around. He didn't know how else to describe their "relationship". He didn't think they could be counted as partners, or boyfriends, or whatever regular term humans used to describe two people who were together exclusively.
Lovers? Definitely. Urahara was an amazing lover, that much he knew, even if he had nobody else to compare him to, because he could not imagine experiencing pleasure greater than what Urahara gave him. Besides, was the man even capable of being in a normal relationship?
But this didn't matter. Urahara didn't talk about it, and Ichigo didn't feel like asking. For now, he was contented with what they had. Urahara cared for him, and that was enough.
Ichigo didn't realize that school was over until he was interrupted by the sounds of chairs scraping the floor and his classmates chatting as they headed for the door. He walked home slowly, distracted and—much to his chagrin—curious about this Kugo character, so much so that he nearly ran into Yuzu on the road. From the exasperated look on her face, she had probably been calling out to him for a while before he noticed her.
"Where are you going?" Ichigo asked, feeling a little sheepish.
Yuzu's cheerful smile returned now that her brother had seen her. "I'm going to Akiko's house, she's teaching me how to make apple pie! Then I'll be able to make it for you, Ichi-nii!"
Ichigo hadn't the slightest idea who Akiko was, but he figured she must be one of Yuzu's many classmates. His little sister was very popular after all, he couldn't possibly know every one of her friends.
"Be careful on the road, Yuzu," he said, patting her on the shoulder before they continued on their separate ways.
"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu looked indignant. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention while you're walking!"
Ichigo opened his mouth to laugh, but it became a horrified, wordless scream as Yuzu was suddenly yanked bodily up in the air. Her eyes widened in surprise and fear, and then she was dangling in the air, her limbs flailing as something held her by the clothes on her back. Something invisible.
"Ichi-nii!" Her frantic screams cut through the silence. It was a surreal sight, his little sister hanging in the air in the middle of a residential neighbourhood with nobody around but him.
Hollow.
Ichigo knew it must be, purely out of instincts and past experience, even though he could not see a thing, could not sense even the slightest bit of reiatsu. All he saw was Yuzu's wide, terrified eyes looking at him pleadingly. She wanted her precious Ichi-nii to save her, but he was helpless.
No, he was not. Ichigo's brows furrowed in determination. He might not be able to see it, but based on Yuzu's position he could guess where it was. And if he got the location right, he could hurt it, or at least distract it.
"Pick on someone your own size!" he hollered, feeling his blood boil with rage. Why would a hollow go after Yuzu? She was weak, not like Karin, she could not see spirits or hollows even though she could sometimes sense them faintly. Somehow, at the back of his mind, Ichigo felt that he was the cause of the problem, and that made him very angry.
He picked up a largest piece of rock he could find near his feet and threw it at the air beneath Yuzu's feet. It sailed through the air and crashed harmlessly into the ground.
Missed.
Grunting between his teeth, Ichigo grabbed a handful of rocks and threw them one after another, aiming for the general area just below Yuzu. She was screaming and crying, her voice tugging at his heart and squeezing the air from his lungs, sending him into a fit of fury. But that fury was useless if it could not save her.
Thunk.
One of the rocks stopped in the air for a split second before bouncing back towards Ichigo. Score! He didn't have the luxury of congratulating himself, because right after that Yuzu was suddenly yanked even higher into the air, her tiny body shaken around, ripping more heart-wrenching shrieks of fright from her lips.
"No! Yuzu!" Ichigo lunged himself towards her, but all he managed to achieve was scrapes and bruises on his elbows and shoulders as he crashed into the ground. He lay there, coughing in the little cloud of debris that he created himself and looked up in horror. His sister was being tossed around like a ragdoll, her limbs thrashing around in a desperate attempt to free herself.
Ichigo felt a dreaded sense of hopelessness and despair sinking on him. His stomach twisted as he realized how useless he was. His sister was in danger and all he could do was fling himself around like an idiot. If he had even one tenth of the power he had...
A loud, hoarse shout cut through Yuzu's screams, and then there was a flash of movement. Something—someone—leapt unbelievably high into the air behind Yuzu and let out a piercing battle cry. Urahara! Ichigo caught a graceful swing of a weapon—a sword—and Yuzu suddenly fell from the sky. Without thinking, Ichigo threw himself in her direction. But even as he did so, he knew with a sinking heart that he wasn't going to get there in time. Yuzu was going to land on the rough, hard ground.
But someone caught her. She let out a breathless cry as she landed in a pair of strong arms, and then promptly began to sob.
"Yuzu!" Ichigo jumped to his feet and rushed to her. Only then did he realize that Yuzu's savior—their savior—was not Urahara.
"Kugo Ginjo," he said, his voice coming out as a whisper due to shock.
The man let Yuzu down gently and gave her a reassuring pat on the head before she ran to her brother. He grinned at Ichigo as they walked towards each other.
"Kurosaki Ichigo," Ginjo said, Ichigo's name rolling off his tongue with a familiarity that made it sound like he'd known the boy for a long time. He reached out to offer a handshake.
Ichigo shook the man's hand, face slack in shock. "Who are you?" he asked, staring pointedly at the ridiculously large sword in Ginjo's hand. "What are you?"
Ginjo's eyebrows arched at Ichigo's choice of words, but his grin remained. "Your friend," he said simply. With a flick of his wrist, the sword disappeared into his fist.
Ichigo frowned; he hated playing mind games, and this guy reeked of it.
When he didn't reply, Ginjo relaxed his face into a more neutral expression. "I'm just trying to help you, kid," he said.
That reminded Ichigo that Ginjo had just saved Yuzu's life, and it immediately made him feel like an asshole. A very rude one. "Thanks," he said, holding the still-sobbing Yuzu closer to him. "I owe you."
Ginjo wrinkled his nose and waved his hand dismissively as though killing a hollow and saving their lives were nothing. "Pfft, don't mention it," the man said. His looked down fondly at Yuzu and added, "She's a very lucky girl to have a brother like you." Then, he lifted his head and gave Ichigo a meaningful look.
Ichigo's eyebrow twitched. Yet another one of those stupid mind game things; he could see that Ginjo was trying to tell him something but he had no idea what. He wished Urahara was here—the blonde would outplay this guy any day. But Ichigo...Ichigo sucked at it.
"Thank you, Kugo-san, but I'm not good at guessing," he said flatly. "Just tell me what you came here to tell me."
Ginjo raised his eyebrows again, then, when the teen simply stared at him with a stubborn frown, he sighed and rummaged through the inner pockets of his jacket. "Here," he said, handing Ichigo a name card. "You know that I know what you want, and I can help you with that."
"Yeah?" Ichigo accepted the card with a skeptical look on his face. The card said "Xcution" along with a phone number. "The hell is this?"
"It's who we are," Ginjo said with an amused smirk. "You can contact me with that number, any time."
Ichigo pocketed the card and eyed Ginjo warily. "And why would I want to contact you?"
"Because you want something back," Ginjo said with a confident smile.
Ichigo's eyes narrowed. Next to him, Yuzu continued to cling onto him and sniffle softly. "Thanks," he said, watching Ginjo carefully. "I'll think about it." Then, draping an arm over his sister's trembling shoulders, he nodded to the man and turned to leave.
"Remember," Ginjo called out to his back. "We're your friends."
Once the initial fright ebbed, Yuzu insisted that she was alright and refused to let Ichigo "baby" her, as she put it. Not wanting to argue with her, Ichigo let her be and went up to his own room.
The motivation to complete his homework eluded him, and for the longest time he found himself staring at his book unable to make any progress. His mind kept wandering to Kugo Ginjo and the mysterious "Xcution". The name card sat at one corner of his desk, seemingly tossed there carelessly.
Just thinking about Kugo made Ichigo uncomfortable. The truth was, Ichigo didn't know what to make of the man. There were so many open questions that Ichigo didn't even know where to begin to think, but one question bothered him most—how did Kugo know about his desire to regain his powers? And how did Kugo know that he had powers to begin with?
In the end, he decided that he didn't want to think about it anymore. He pushed his books aside with a sigh, then got up and shrugged on the first jacket he could find.
He needed a distraction.
"Had a bad day?" Urahara took off his hat and peered at Ichigo. He slid open the door and stepped aside to let the boy in.
Ichigo rubbed his face and blinked; he didn't think that he was being that obvious. But then again, this was Urahara Kisuke so it wasn't all that surprising.
"Nah," he said with a shrug. "I'm just tired. I'm gonna borrow your bed."
Urahara stared after the boy, one eyebrow arched in amusement, but he didn't prod. This was one of the blonde's many qualities—he was smart enough to know that sometimes the best way to gain information is to back off. Especially with someone as stubborn as Ichigo.
He followed the boy to his room and closed the door behind him. Ichigo was lying on his bed with his arms laced casually behind his head, knees bent with one leg crossed over the other. Urahara approached the bed and sat down next to the boy.
"Come on, you didn't come here to take a nap." He took out his folded fan and poked Ichigo in the ribs.
Ichigo gave him a glare and shifted aside so that the blonde could lie down beside him. Then, morphing his glare into a smirk, he rolled to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. "You're right, I'm not here to take a nap," he said, leaning closer to his lover. Ducking his head down, he nuzzled the soft pale locks, breathing in Urahara's scent.
The blonde turned and snaked his arm behind Ichigo's head. Grabbing a fistful of vivid orange hair, he pulled the boy into a kiss. His pulse immediately began to race as Ichigo ran his tongue along his lips; the touch was feather light, barely enough for him to feel it, but more than enough to make him yearn for more. With a soft moan, he opened his mouth and caught Ichigo's roaming tongue between his lips, then he reeled the boy in, pulling gently with his lips.
Without breaking the kiss, Ichigo climbed up to straddle the man's hips. He was beginning to breathe faster, his heart beating loudly in his ears, as his lips worked against his lover's. His skin tingled where the blonde's fingers went—his back, his waist, his hips, and thighs. Shivers ran through his body as those nimble fingers ran up and down his legs, leaving behind goosebumps in their wake. And then they went back up to his hips and the light touches became a firm grip.
Urahara smiled slyly and raised his hips to meet the ones he was holding in place. He felt the heat from the growing bulge in Ichigo's pants and heard the boy groan under his breath as they brushed against each other. His eyes slid closed on their own accord as the friction brought a little tremor of pleasure, and he whispered Ichigo's name.
Ichigo responded by grinding down and rubbing himself roughly against Urahara's body.
"How do you do this to me?" Urahara asked in a hoarse murmur. He could feel his face heating up as his blood began to boil in arousal.
Chuckling smugly, Ichigo leaned down and said in the older man's ear, "Because I'm really, really good." Then, before the blonde could retort, his mouth slid below the ear and latched onto the pale neck. Purring in his throat, Ichigo sucked on the tender skin, intentionally applying enough pressure to leave a mark. He loved seeing the light trail on Urahara's neck afterwards; it made him feel that Urahara was his.
When he reached the hollow between the blonde's collarbones, he looked up to see the man with his eyes clenched tight and lips apart, panting softly in time with his rapid breathing. The sight alone almost made him moan out loud, and he suddenly wondered what the man looked like at the height of his release. It must be an even more glorious sight, it was a pity that he'd missed out so far because he had had his own eyes closed at the same time.
Determined to see it for himself this time, Ichigo began to slide his body southward towards Urahara's legs.
"Where're you going?" Urahara asked in a thick voice, his words slightly slurred.
Ichigo hummed vaguely as he continued to slither down the long, muscular legs before stopping when his head hovered approximately above Urahara's pelvis. He curled his fingers around the blonde's waistband and began to pull his pants down.
"Ah." Urahara sounded pleasantly surprised, and promptly raised his hips so that the garment could glide over his thighs.
After a few seconds of kicking and tugging, the obstacle was finally removed, and Ichigo stared down at his prize. His heart pounded madly in his chest as he tried to think of what he should do next. Naturally, he thought back to what Urahara did to him—that should be a good start.
Hands trembling slightly from nervousness and excitement, he bent down and grasped the shockingly hot length with one hand. Staring intently at it, he carefully stuck out his tongue and touched it. He felt Urahara jump slightly at the contact and looked up inquiringly. The blonde shook his head and mouthed "nothing"; his eyes were bright, gleaming with anticipation and curiosity.
No pressure, Ichigo thought dryly.
Feeling just a tiny bit bolder, he pressed his tongue flat against the base and slowly dragged it upwards, feeling the curves of the veins underneath the smooth, fragile skin. It was feverishly hot, and Urahara jumped again when Ichigo arrived at the tip. After a moment of hesitation, Ichigo opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around it.
The effect was instant, and Ichigo nearly gagged when the blonde gave out a muffled cry and jerked his hips into his face. He grunted his protest and pinned the man into the mattress. Urahara gave an apologetic chuckle and lay still.
Slowly, as though he was conducting an experiment, Ichigo hollowed his cheeks and lowered his head, taking more of the blonde into his mouth. It tasted a little strange even though it wasn't exactly unpleasant—slightly salty, slightly bitter, but he supposed he didn't exactly taste like a popsicle any more than Urahara did, so he didn't complain.
When he reached the base, he felt fingers digging into his hair, and he looked up. The pair of grey eyes that looked back at him were half-lidded and glassy.
Urahara smiled encouragingly at the teen; the sight was unbelievably hot—Ichigo's lips were stretched taut around him, and his cheeks were flushed. The best part was, he was looking right at him, his eyes partially hidden behind a fan of dark lashes.
Spurred on by the smile and the man's seemingly drunken state, Ichigo pulled his head back, feeling the flesh slide against the insides of his cheeks along the way. Urahara hissed softly, and Ichigo felt the man's body tense. He smiled; it must be agonizing having to refrain from moving.
With that thought in mind, he began to bob his head, letting Urahara slip in and out of his mouth. He started out slow and steady, and then as the blonde's pants became more urgent, he increased his pace. The fingers in his hair dug into his scalp; it hurt, but it also made him more excited, and he began to groan. The sounds leaving the older man's lips became a continuous stream of moans that were probably loud enough to be heard in the hallway, but neither had the presence of mind to care.
And then he felt it—a slight tremor, a small twitch, and then the blonde began to throb between his lips. He heard part of a strangled cry, and then his eyes widened in surprise as a gush of warmth hit the back of his throat. Suddenly remembering that he wanted to watch his lover's expression, he looked up just in time to see the man throw his head back and clutch the sheets in his fists. Unfortunately for him, from his angle, he couldn't see much of Urahara's face.
When the blonde finally stopped pulsing, Ichigo let go of him and crawled up the bed. Urahara caught him as he fell onto the mattress, exhausted from all that work.
"My jaw feels like it's gonna fall off," Ichigo couldn't resist complaining as he rubbed his tired muscles.
Urahara grinned and pulled the boy into his arms. "I didn't know I was that big," he quipped, and then immediately grunted as he took a punch in the stomach. Laughing, he reached down and wrapped his hand around the boy's other aching body part.
"My turn."
Ichigo's jaw remained sore for the next couple of hours, and he swore under his breath as he tried to focus on his homework. This was what he got for putting it off in the afternoon; now everyone's asleep and he was stuck staying up past midnight. But even as he grumbled inwardly, his mouth curled up into a small smile at the thought of the time he spent at Urahara's place.
He knew that the man was itching for information behind the long face he had sported when he first arrived at the shop, but he stubbornly remained silent about the matter. Urahara didn't press him.
Completing his homework became a near impossible task now that his mind wandered to Kugo Ginjo again. That blasted man and his stupid "Xcution", Ichigo thought with a frown. Could've at least gotten the spelling right.
Much as he wanted to, he couldn't forget the sense of utter helplessness that seized him when Yuzu was attacked. Had Ginjo not shown up...he shuddered at the thought. He had already seen one family member die, he didn't think he could handle another one.
He didn't realize that he had been digging his pencil into his book until the tip snapped off suddenly. Staring numbly at the ruined pencil, he felt a sudden surge of anger. Stupid pencil. Stupid fucking pencil.
Who was he kidding? He recognized the emotions churning in his mind right now—rage, frustration, fear, jealousy. Yes, he was absolutely jealous of Ginjo, and whomever else he was associated with. They obviously had non-human abilities, and he was jealous that they had it and he didn't.
"Because you want something back."
He made a small choking sound in his throat. Yes, he wanted it back, he wanted it back so fucking much that it hurt.
But Ginjo smelled like trouble. Ichigo was never very good at reading people, not the way Rukia or Urahara was, but even he sensed that something was off with the man. The fake robbery, his cryptic words, his appearance at the right place at the right moment—they were so perfect that it felt choreographed. It probably was; he wouldn't put it past the man.
In the end, he gave up trying to finish his homework. Sighing, he dragged his tired body to the bed and sank into the soft mattress. He wasn't hopeful that he would get much sleep, but lying under the covers was way more appealing than calculus at the moment.
The weight on his back felt familiar. Instinctively, he reached up to feel what it was, and to his surprise, his hand found a hilt—no, not just any regular hilt. It was a simple, cloth-wrapped tang of a sword. It could only be one thing.
Zangetsu!
Ichigo swung his arm, his beloved zanpakutou grasped tightly in his fist. He couldn't believe his eyes—it really was Zangetsu. He ran his trembling fingers over the familiar outline of his cleaver-like weapon. The blade was as sharp and shiny as he remembered it.
How is this possible?
It was then, he finally noticed that he was wearing a black shihakusho, along with a white obi around his waist. His feet were clad in a pair of white tabi and a familiar pair of waraji—the standard shinigami uniform that he had come to know so well. He patted his chest, tugged at his sleeves, stomped his feet on the ground, just to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.
He looked around, taking in the bright blue sky, the trees, and the grass beneath his feet. Was this Soul Society?
"Oi, Ichigo!"
Renji! Ichigo's eyes lit up as he recognized the voice of one of his closest friend. How he missed the loud-mouthed redhead! And there he was, walking towards him with a petite, dark-haired girl by his side.
Rukia!
Giddy with joy, he ran towards them. It had been so long, but they hadn't changed one bit. Rukia laughed softly as Ichigo crushed her in a tight embrace, while Renji stood next to him with his eyebrows arched in amusement. Ichigo knew he was acting like an idiot, but this was a dream come true, how else was he supposed to react?
Then, as he gradually calmed down, he realized that Renji and Rukia hadn't said a thing since they met. In fact, Rukia's smile had dimmed, her eyes a little downcast, her back slightly hunched. His eyes went to Renji, who immediately averted his gaze.
"Rukia? Renji?" Ichigo asked, suddenly alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"Do you not remember anything?" Rukia asked, looking at Ichigo sadly.
Ichigo frowned. "What should I remember?"
His friends exchanged a look. Ichigo knew that look; it was the "you tell him" look, also known as the "we have some bad news, but I don't want to be the one to tell you" look.
"What is it?" Ichigo asked in a whisper even though he had a feeling he didn't want to hear the answer.
Rukia sighed and grabbed his arms. In a soft, almost-motherly voice, she said, "Ichigo, you are not a substitute shinigami anymore."
Ichigo laughed nervously. "Yeah, I know! That's why I'm so surprised that I have my powers back! How did it happen?" He flicked his eyes towards Renji and saw the man flinch.
Rukia shook him to get his attention. "Ichigo, you're a real shinigami now."
"Huh?" For a moment, Ichigo was confused and more than a little afraid. His eyes darted between Rukia and Renji, willing them to burst into laughter and tell him that it's all a joke.
Renji stepped forward. "You're dead," he said simply. Ichigo stared at his friend blankly. He knew Renji tended to be more straightforward than Rukia, and as the words sank in his head, Ichigo suddenly understood what Rukia had been trying to tell him.
"I'm dead," Ichigo echoed.
"A hollow attacked your home, and..." Rukia began, then her voice faltered. Her eyes reddened. "None of you survived."
"Karin? Yuzu?" Ichigo whispered, feeling his blood drain from his face.
Rukia looked down.
Ichigo grabbed her shoulders and shook her, not caring if he was hurting her. "Where are they? If they're dead, they'd be spirits, right? Why aren't they here?"
"You're the only one with enough spiritual pressure to become a shinigami. Karin and Yuzu...they've moved on," Rukia said, her lips quivering. "I'm sorry, Ichigo."
The corners of his vision began to fade in and out of focus as he staggered backwards. No, this can't be true. Not his sisters... He looked down at Zangetsu, which suddenly felt as though it weighed a thousand tons. He had shinigami powers again, but his family was gone. Who was he supposed to protect now?
"Ichigo? Oi, Ichigo!"
Ichigo's hands trembled as he brushed his teeth. The face that stared back at him from the mirror was ashen, the dark circles around his eyes making him look at least ten years older. Hell, even his hair seemed less vibrant.
Last night's dream had shaken him to the core. He hadn't felt such bone-breaking despair since his mother's death, and the feeling stayed with him long after he'd woken up screaming.
As he swept his text books into his backpack, his eyes inevitably fell on the Xcution name card on the desk. His hands froze as the sounds from the street and the ticking clock in the room faded away until all he heard was the loud beating of his heart.
The books slipped from his hand and landed in the bag with a dull thud. His face reflected the faint glow from his cell phone screen, his eyes flicking back and forth between the keypad and the name card as he keyed in the numbers.
"Hello? I'm looking for Kugo Ginjo." Ichigo licked his lips as he listened to the voice coming from the other end. "Tell him it's Kurosaki Ichigo."
To be continued...
Author's Note:
Phew! What do you think?
So I've gotten the entire storyline in a draft, and right now it looks like there's going to be four chapters left. I'm really excited!