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"Think you can handle me better than Riruka's stupid trick?" The slim, dark-skinned woman eyed Ichigo with more than a hint of skepticism in her voice. Her gaze lingered on his wounded shoulder.

Ichigo felt his hackles rise under Jackie's critical gaze. "If you fight fair, yes," he said, gritting his teeth at the memory of the ridiculous "training" session from the day before.

She laughed in her deep, full voice, actually sounding genuinely entertained by Ichigo's indignation. Her lips curled up into a smirk and she gestured to Ginjo. "I like him," she said. "He has spirit, if not the skills." Then she looked at Ichigo again, her eyes sparkling with challenge.

Riruka slinked up next to Ginjo and said with a sneer, "We'll see how long that spirit lasts, wimp."

"Riruka, stop it," Ginjo said curtly. "We don't want to screw up the one chance that Ichigo gave us, do we now?" He threw the boy an apologetic look, then turned to Riruka. "Get them ready."

Once again Ichigo found himself backed up against the wall inside Riruka's doll house, except this time she had cleared most of the obstacles, giving them more space to move around. But that also meant less hiding places for Ichigo to run for cover.

"Are you ready?" Jackie asked from across the room.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. At least this time Jackie had taken some time to explain the point of this exercise—fight her in hand-to-hand combat. He was rusty, but given the warm-up on his reflexes yesterday, he felt confident that he stood a chance. His body no longer ached that much after Urahara healed most of his bruises, which was a plus.

"Yes," he said, getting into a fighting stance with one hand tucked close to his body and the other held in an open palm angled sideways in his opponent's direction.

He saw a blur of movement, and then Jackie was in the air with one of her legs extended and aimed at his head. Her dark eyes flashed as she closed in on Ichigo.

Ichigo waited till the last moment possible, then stepped aside quickly to avoid her. When Jackie landed barely a foot away from him, he fell into a crouch and lashed a leg out to trip her. He missed.

With an amused chuckle, the woman did a backflip and slipped easily out of Ichigo's range. "Not bad!" she yelled, sounding pleased.

Ichigo clenched his jaw and sprinted towards her, keeping his eyes focused on her. The slightest flex of her muscles should give her next destination away. He saw her eyes flick towards her left, and he immediately slanted his body to the right in response. Then his eyes widened when he realized that he had been tricked.

Laughing in delight, Jackie twisted her body and swung her impossibly long legs around, catching him in the temple. He felt his head snap to the side, and he fell to his knees, his vision threatening to darken. Temporarily unable to get back on his feet, he curled up his body and braced himself for another hit.

None came.

Surprised, Ichigo looked up. Jackie stood a few feet away with her feet apart and her hands on her hips.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked, feeling a little insulted.

Jackie raised her eyebrows. "We're training, not actually fighting. I don't see the point in hitting you when you're down," she said matter-of-factly.

The woman wasn't condescending in any way, but Ichigo felt his face flush in shame. She was holding back for his sake—it was almost like being treated extra kindly by Inoue, and it made him feel angry at himself.

"Don't," he growled, standing up. He ran his hand through the side of his head and hair and was relieved to see no sign of blood. "Don't go easy on me."

Jackie laughed in amusement. "Ginjo said you're pretty desperate, and I didn't believe it," she said, running her eyes up and down Ichigo, who had gotten into fighting stance again. "Guess you really are, after all." With that, she launched herself into the air.

Ichigo ducked low as her boots swept the air above his face and slid out beneath her. Without waiting for her to land, he twisted around and got back on his feet. He grinned; Jackie still had her back to him—this was a perfect opening, and he took it. His heels connected with her shoulder briefly before she lowered her body to her right and avoided a direct hit to her head.

"Good job!" Jackie yelled. At the same time, she rolled a few feet away and, without pausing, launched herself in Ichigo's direction again.

Her movement was so shockingly fast that Ichigo barely had time to move away. As it was, he felt her leg whoosh past him; it was so close that he felt the hair on his face rise. After staggering back a few steps, he spun around on his heels and steadied himself.

Jackie stood across the room with a large grin on her face. "Good reflexes!" she shouted, giving Ichigo a thumbs-up.

Ichigo found himself grinning back; this was definitely better than what he endured the day before—it was actually quite promising. At the thought, he felt a rush of excitement course through his veins. It had been a long time since he felt this way.

He didn't get much time to congratulate himself, however. In a blink of an eye Jackie was gone again, and it was not until she let out a whoop that Ichigo looked up to find her upside down in the air with her arms outstretched in the middle of an unbelievably high summersault. Instinctively, he raised his hands above his head to shield himself. He felt her sharp fingers dig into his forearms as she reached down to grab him, and then before he could wrench free, he was suddenly tossed across the room.

Ichigo's vision blurred as he landed and rolled on the floor. Shit, not fast enough.

"You asked me not to hold back!" He heard Jackie's voice, and then there was a bone-jarring impact as her boots crushed into his stomach, sending him flying further until he crashed into the wall.

He felt bile rise in the back of his throat and he curled up, hugging his abdomen. He only had enough time to cough once before he felt hands on the back of his shirt and then he was once again flung across the room.

"Tsk tsk tsk...you've gotten weak, my king."

Ichigo's eyes snapped open at the taunt. The shock from hearing the familiar voice dulled the pain of his crash landing.

Him.

No. Gritting his teeth, Ichigo picked himself off the floor, but he had underestimated the blows that he'd taken. His stomach clenched, and he fell onto his hand and knees. The bile that he had been holding back spilled from his lips, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. And his lips stung, probably split some time during the ordeal.

"No," he breathed, fighting down a sudden sense of panic. His vision darkened, and he heard a soft, high-pitched chuckle in his head. "No," he said again, louder, firmer this time.

"Talking to me? Shall I stop?" Jackie hollered, her hands folded over her chest as she waited for Ichigo to recover.

"She doesn't think very highly of you, neh?"

"No!" Ichigo stood up on shaky legs and clasped his hands over his ears. He was beginning to hyperventilate, more from the rising dread in his chest than exertion.

"Shall I show her what we can do?"

"You didn't say he could do that!" Through a fog, Ichigo heard a girlish voice say indignantly. Riruka, he thought groggily. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy.

A man hushed the girl. "I think he's waking up." Ginjo. Ichigo stirred, trying to pry his eyelids open.

"Yo, Ichigo," Ginjo patted the boy's cheek.

Ichigo groaned. It was difficult, but after a few more tries he managed to peel his eyes open. He saw a few blurred faces hovering nearby, all peering at him intently as if he had suddenly sprouted two heads.

"W-what hap-ppened?" he slurred. The faces turned to look at each other, and then Ginjo rested a palm on his forehead as though to check his temperature.

"What do you remember?" the man asked with a frown.

Ichigo took a deep breath. Him. This wasn't something he wanted to share with these people. So, instead of answering, he tried to sit up on the couch. Hands shot out to help him, and as he struggled, he caught sight of a prone figure sprawled on the couch across from him.

Jackie. The woman's eyes were closed, seemingly unconscious, one side of her face swollen and bruised in an angry swirl of red and purple visible even against her dark skin. Her chest rose and fell in a slow but steady rhythm.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked again, straightening up in alarm. "Is she alright?"

Riruka stepped forward and glared at him, but he noticed that she kept a wary distance. "That's what we all wanna ask you," she spat.

Ichigo blinked. He remembered his failed attempts at dodging Jackie's attacks, and then...that voice. Beyond that, it was all a blank. "I..." he said hesitantly. "I don't remember."

"She's just knocked out, she'll be fine," Ginjo said, his brows still furrowed. Ichigo couldn't tell if the man was angry or deep in thought. There was a long pause as all the Xcution members stared at him in silence. "You would've killed her if we hadn't gotten her out in time."

Ichigo swallowed audibly. "Shall I show her what we can do?" A chill ran up his spine and spread to his limbs. How could it be? He was supposed to be gone. Gone along with the rest of his powers. If he had somehow resurfaced, that would mean...

"It's working," Ichigo whispered.

Ichigo leaned against the door frame as the shuffling of feet became louder. Then the door slid open and Urahara appeared.

The boy's lip was flecked with blood, not unlike how his own had been not too long ago. The blonde sighed and held out his hand to support the tired figure, who immediately slumped into his arms in exhaustion.

Forcing himself to keep silent, Urahara led Ichigo to his bathroom and began to inspect the boy for wounds. The split lip was the worst, everything else were mostly bruises. Alarming, especially the one across his abdomen, but nothing too damaging.

"I'm going back there," Ichigo said finally. He heard the older man suck in a deep breath.

"You said you'd only go one more time," Urahara said quietly.

Ichigo lay down on Urahara's bed and sighed as some of the tension in his muscles left him. "I said I'd stop going if it turned out to be the same bullshit," he corrected, giving the blonde a sideways glance.

Urahara exhaled slowly. He hadn't stayed for long after Ichigo entered the apartment, but he did do a headcount based on whatever he could sense from the outside. There were five others besides Ichigo, some stronger than others—human, yet not quite human. He needed more information, and in the meantime, he needed to keep Ichigo away from them.

Ichigo saw the blonde's darkened eyes and sat up straighter. "You can't talk me out of it," he said defensively.

"Ichigo," Urahara said. A hint of admonishment entered his voice, and he immediately saw the boy's shoulders tense up. "You know it's dangerous."

The teen stood up. "You don't know that," he said, eyes narrowing. He suppressed the unpleasant memory of what happened to Jackie. It's all part and parcel of his powers, if getting his powers back meant that he had to deal with him again, he would just have to deal with it when the time came.

The blonde sighed. "Ichigo, you don't know these people, and you don't know their motives."

"Yes I do," Ichigo said at once. "I already told you—"

"That they simply want to help you because they want to protect people," Urahara finished for him. "Ichigo, nobody does something like that for free. They'll want something in return."

The boy clenched his fists and stepped forward. "You don't know that," he repeated.

Urahara looked at Ichigo's tight, stubborn lips and gave it one more try, "I've never sensed reiatsu like theirs before. Just give me some more time to learn more about them, then we can decide. How about that?"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "Sensed? You can sense them from here?"

The blonde hesitated. To answer that honestly would be to acknowledge that he had followed Ichigo. But as it turned out, his hesitation was all Ichigo needed to make his own conclusion.

"Did you follow me?" Ichigo's voice was ice cold. He took another step towards the older man.

"I wanted to see it for myself," Urahara said carefully.

Ichigo growled low in his throat, his eyes narrowing even further as anger and hurt welled within him. "You fucking spied on me!"

"Ichigo..." Urahara closed their distance and rested his palms on the boy's shoulders. "I'm just trying to protect you."

"I don't need any fucking protection!" Ichigo spat, swiping the man's hands off his body. "I can't believe you did this, I thought you trusted me!"

The blonde grabbed Ichigo's arms. "I trust you, but I don't trust them," he said soothingly.

"I don't believe you—" Ichigo wrapped his fingers around Urahara's wrist and flung it away from him. For a second he looked as though he was going to follow it with a swing of his fist, but just as Urahara held up his hand to block it, Ichigo swayed on his feet and staggered backwards.

"Ichigo?" Urahara reached for the boy. Ichigo stared at him with a look of confusion, and then his eyes rolled back in his head.

When Ichigo opened his eyes again, he found himself nestled in a pair of strong arms, his head resting on Urahara's lap. He stayed still, unwilling to move from the comforting warmth.

"Feel better?"

Ichigo turned and buried his face into the folds of his lover's clothes. His body ached, his head throbbed, and he was so, so tired. It felt good to be held like this.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," Urahara said, brushing wisps of orange hair from the boy's cheeks.

Ichigo murmured something under his breath.

"What? I can't hear you." The blonde leaned in.

The boy's words were barely audible. "I really want it back." His voice was broken, and thick as though he had something stuck in his throat.

Urahara felt his chest tighten. Just wait a little longer, Ichigo, he wanted to say. Instead, he simply held the boy closer and remained silent.

"Kisuke," Ichigo whispered, curling his fingers around the blonde's robe. Then, using the grip as leverage, he propped himself up on an elbow. He tugged a few more times, and Urahara finally responded. His hand slid down from Ichigo's shoulders to his back, supporting some of the boy's body weight to relieve the strain on his sore muscles. They leaned in closer and closer, eyes sliding shut, and then their lips met.

Ichigo's traced his lover's lower lip, and Urahara parted for him. Groaning at the boy's prodding and gentle strokes, Urahara cupped Ichigo's cheek and deepened their kiss, feeling the usual flush spreading from his chest up his neck, and then up to his cheeks as his arousal awakened.

Sensing their escalating desires, Ichigo shifted his body and lay down on the bed, where Urahara had been sitting while cradling his head. The blonde's breath quickened as he felt himself being pulled down on top of the boy. He gave Ichigo a look, worried about his health, but Ichigo gave a stubborn nod and began to tug his own t-shirt over his head.

Urahara ran his eyes up and down the chiseled abdominal muscles as they were gradually exposed and then, he, too, began to shed his clothes.

As their bodies slid up against each other, fingers began to roam, kneading, caressing, wringing soft moans from their lips. Ichigo arched into the body above his and thrust his hips up, communicating his need. The aches and bruises on his body no longer commanded his attention; all he wanted was to feel himself enveloped in the reassuring arms of his lover, the only man who could bring him pleasure that dulled everything else.

Urahara moved cautiously, avoiding the angry splotches of color on the pale skin. After a quick drizzling of oil, he slowly eased his fingers into the waiting body beneath him, prodding and stretching as Ichigo gasped for breath. He felt the boy tremble, and then Ichigo was suddenly whispering his name, urging him to hurry.

Urahara slid his arms under the boy's knees and brought their bodies closer together. Biting his lip to stifle a moan, he carefully pushed in, feeling Ichigo's muscles yield to him. Mindful of Ichigo's condition, he rocked his hips slowly, keeping his penetration gentle and shallow.

Ichigo, however, was in no mood for something so sensual. Throwing the older man a glare through half-lidded eyes, he thrust back, forcing the man into him. Urahara's eyes flashed in understanding.

Pushing the boy into the mattress, the blonde lowered himself onto his elbows. He brushed his lips lightly on Ichigo's, then, taking in a deep breath, he slid his arms below Ichigo's shoulders to hold him in place, and snapped his hips in a deep, rough thrust. The searing heat and tightness ripped a choked groan from his throat, and he heard an answering cry from the boy.

He wanted to ask Ichigo if he was okay, but before he could do so, Ichigo grinded his hips against him, already asking for more. The urgency in the boy's moans and ragged breathing spurred him on, and he moved, pushing deeper with each thrust, feeling the muscles clench around him as he slid in and out, over and over again until Ichigo's voice became hoarse and broken.

And then with a strangled scream of his lover's name, Ichigo peaked, his orgasm blinding him in a rush of pleasure. He heard a shuddering moan by his ear, and then Urahara stiffened on top of him. The spreading warmth inside drew a contented sigh from him, and they both relaxed, the afterglow lulling them into a dreamy haze.

For a while they simply laid there, sweat-slicked bodies pressed together and breathing in sync. Then, Ichigo broke the silence.

"I really need this, Kisuke." Ichigo's voice was quiet, no longer angry, but it carried an air of finality. "I want to be able to protect them again. I want to see Rukia, Renji..."

Urahara sighed in defeat as he took in the determined glint in the boy's eyes. He knew the argument was over, and that he had lost.

Urahara retrieved his coat from the hanger and shrugged it on. He couldn't stop Ichigo, but he could at least speed up his plan. He had already gotten the ball rolling, now it was just a matter of making sure that it progressed as quickly as possible.

He opened his bedroom door and stepped outside, then he stopped. Tessai was standing there, blocking his way.

"Kisuke," he said. His voice was low and not exactly friendly.

"Yes?" Urahara asked, even though he knew what this was about.

"You can't keep doing this," Tessai said gravely. "He's just a boy."

Urahara sucked in a deep breath before saying, "He knows what he's doing, and so do I, Tessai."

Tessai stared at his old friend for a few seconds, scrutinizing his face. "Do you love him?" he asked finally.

The blonde stared back in silence, his piercing gaze so unnerving that Tessai found himself looking away. Once the eye contact was broken, Urahara turned and walked out of the shop.

"So they gave the okay?" Kurosaki Isshin asked, leaning back into his chair as he kicked up his legs on his desk. He looked inquiringly at his friend, who was seated across from him.

Urahara nodded. "I will come and get you tomorrow night, then I will do it after you. I will need your help."

Isshin sighed. "He will be so happy, you know," he said, lacing his fingers behind his head.

The blonde looked up. "He will indeed," he agreed. Having delivered the message, he stood up and prepared to leave.

"Wait." Isshin straightened up in his chair and leaned forward.

Urahara's hand froze a few inches away from the door knob, then, he turned around to face Ichigo's father. Their eyes met, and he involuntarily held his breath in anticipation of what was to come.

"You and Ichigo..." Isshin let his sentence trail off while he kept his gaze steady. "You are very close to him," he said. It came out as a statement, like an observation.

It was then, Urahara knew that Isshin knew. He nodded. "Yes," he said simply, bracing for the worst.

There was a long stretch of tense silence. Then, Isshin's eyes softened and he sighed heavily. "Take care of him."

The implication of his friend's words was not lost on Urahara. Exhaling slowly, he nodded again. They held each other's gaze in silent understanding, then he opened the door and left.

To be continued...

Surprised? Creeped out? Disappointed? Lemme know what you think. =)