Author's Note: CH28 edited for typos and minor prose issues. Also heads up, this Chapter has a depraved scene with Keigo and his friends.
Ten leagues north of the town, where grass on rolling plains was waist-high, a lake stretched all the way to the horizon when viewed at ground level. Its water was a tranquil mirror, reflecting the cloudy sky, only disturbed by fish occasionally touching the surface. One fish swam close to the edge. Waving fins dispersed blood drops. The longer that fish swam in blood, the brighter its scales became, until it was pure white and glowing. When it swam away, it returned to normal.
Ichigo's stomach rumbled, and his four-pupil eyes resonated. At first, he was shown flashes of terraced rice patties on small hills, then flat farmlands. Watermelons. Corn. Eggplant. Trees: apples, oranges, lemons. Grapevines. All this food production was for Shinigami mouths. In cabbage fields, pickers were in usual Rukon robes and Geta sandals. Faces were bright and happy. A Shinigami boy was holding down a struggling Shinigami girl behind a shed, a lot of fun being had there.
Inner districts. Richer. Civilized. Safe.
Rukia was approaching. Sandals scraped against stone. Her knuckles skimmed against his arm. She flinched slightly when she saw his eyes. "What do you see?"
"Watermelon fields."
Her face slanted. "Are you that hungry?"
"Yeah. This Shikai consumes a lot of spirit energy."
"The fish will be ready in ten minutes."
He looked over his shoulder. Haruka was at the grill. Hanataro was at the chopping board with his knife-like Zanpakuto. They made a cute couple. As he watched their chatter, he caught glimpses of them together in infinitely varied positions. The boy really knew how to please a girl properly and thoroughly with his smaller cock. Haruka's orgasming face had to be painting worthy. A strip of blonde hair pointed at her penetrated pussy. Ichigo blocked out all the sexual visions, partly out of annoyance, partly out of jealously. What was left was…
Nothing violent.
Mostly, Hanataro ran clinic duty while Haruka acted as his personal guard.
Rukia's heel stamped down on his foot. "Are you watching them have sex?"
"No," he said in a high-pitch voice.
She tisked. "Any timelines where he's fucking me?"
He barred his eyes from peering into those cursed futures, if such futures were possible in the first place. "None at all."
"Oh really?"
"Really." He slapped her butt, groped her warm peach to get across the message—she was his.
Her tongue rolled in her mouth, a naughty idea in there. But she didn't risk it, saying, "Your family. Check on them."
"I already did."
"And?"
"Nothing's changed. Yuzu's practicing Zanjustsu. Karin's in coma. Dad's in a dark cell. I think the trial's going to be delayed to next week." Because Isshin Shiba Kurosaki was Ichigo's father. Those bastards knew this all too well. They were tactfully slow-walking this legal process. Corrupt. The same as in the living world.
"It's not unexpected," Rukia said. "This whole situation may take years to sort out. And what about your mother?"
At that question, he saw a crescent moon in a starless sky above infinite dunes. A dead tree was made of vitrified glassy stone. One lone figure stood atop a dumbell rock. The moon snugly fit inside her Hollow hole. And in all timelines she stood alone, unmoved and unbothered by other Hollows. There were no other Hollows. Not a single one. Hueco Mundo was far more desolate than Ichigo had pictured. The land of regret.
"She's standing," Ichigo said as a blood droplet rolled down his cheek.
"That's great." Rukia sighed. "All will be fine, Ichigo. Don't worry."
Truly great. Truly fine. Dad in Soul Society jail. Mom in Hollow Land.
Ichigo's forehead then wrinkled in surprise. He could see across dimensions. "I wonder what my friends are up to." His best friend since childhood, Tatsuki. The boys: Chad, Keigo, Mizuiro. Big-breasted Orihime. He feared they were grieving over him this very moment, but that fear was for naught, as they were hanging out at their usual spot in school, joking around, happy. Ichigo Kurosaki was a forgotten memory to them—the way it should be.
Best to move on.
No one should dwell on past grievances.
Indeed, they were moving on with life. In most timelines, Chad was running track, either in the lead or near it. Keigo and Mizuiro were taking photos of rooftop scenery. Tatsuki and Orihime were sneaking up on them. Typical playful antics. They even had matching umbrellas. Best friends. While Ichigo watched, his heart increasingly ached with longing for what he had left behind. He knew letting these regrets consume him was unwise, and so he deactivated his future-sight ability, sealed his Shikai. The collapse of spiritual pressure was extreme but over in a pained heartbeat.
"The fish is ready. Want to eat?" Rukia was looking up at him with tender love in her eyes.
Haruka and Hanataro were waving grilled fillets at Ichigo. His depraved friends in the afterlife. Time to move on. "Yeah, I'm starving."
It was another normal lunch break for Keigo Asano at Karakura High. Basketballs flying. Boys yelling. Most normal of all, senior girls in one-piece swimsuits were at the pool. Water glistened on their fit bodies. One girl adjusted straps on her shoulders, almost a swimsuit malfunction there. This rooftop was the greatest peeping spot ever. Thank you, Ichigo, for having shared it.
Click.
Mizuiro snapped a photo with his new high-tech camera.
With two button taps, the photo appeared in full color on a three-inch display. A senior girl sat on the pool's side, her toes touching water, her thighs spread just wide enough for the photo to be scandalous. And she knew what she was doing. What an overt exhibitionist, spreading her legs in front of horny boys who were waiting to rip off her swimsuit given the chance.
"Print these off later," Keigo said with glee.
Mizuiro nodded. "I've got plenty of library credit left."
"Perfect."
Click. Another photo.
It was a busty platinum-blonde. She was wringing her hair, both arms up. Her armpits were slick. Her swimsuit was at least two sizes too small, and too thin, unable to contain her breasts or pad her stiff nipples. Edges of her deliciously pink aerolae were far too visible for school attire. A teasing slut. Asking to be photographed.
"That's poster material," Mizuiro said, then scowled. Unhappy with the photo?
Eyes squinting, Keigo inspected the photo with his nose an inch from the display. It was blurry. Blown up to wall height, it would look terrible. How deplorable. A magnificent photo ruined. "Nah, that's way too blurry for a poster," Keigo sulked.
"Very unfortunate," Orihime said, suddenly there.
Keigo covered his own mouth to hold in a yelp. "Where'd you come from?"
Orihime blinked twice. She pointed at the access shaft door. "From the stairwell."
Tatsuki was further behind, palm on hip, her umbrella Zanpakuto in her other hand. In front of the sun, a halo framed her flawless movie-star face. Her pleated skirt was pulled up higher than usual. No jumper or blazer. Two buttons of her blouse were undone. She was sex incarnate. She drawled, "Are you two pervs serious?"
"Yep," Mizuiro said cheekily. "Got some really decent shots."
"Can I see?" Orihime asked.
Mizuiro, trusting she wasn't going to delete anything, handed over the camera. And she didn't delete any photos. She smiled and giggled at one of the head girl adjusting her swimsuit's gusset. "You can almost see her pussy."
Tatsuki smirked at the camera's display. "None of these have any nudity. Is this really what you two masturbate to?"
"No," Keigo said with shifting eyes.
Mizuiro had the balls to say, "We have an upskirt of you, Tatsuki. You were in your red thong. But I took it with my old camera. It's low-res."
Orihime covered her mouth.
Opposing emotions rolled Tatsuki's jaw. She leaned in. "Do you have it here?"
"No," Mizuiro said, honest.
And Keigo swallowed. "I had to throw mine away."
Orihime pieced two and two together. "Because it got covered in something sticky? Because you didn't put it in a frame?"
There was no point in hiding it anymore. He played it up, sobbing into an arm, "It's true. All because of my stupidity, I don't have my favorite photo to masturbate to anymore."
"Keigo," Tatsuki said in a serious voice. Her face was bleak.
"Yeah?"
"Is your dick still sore?"
Keigo was about to say yes, but his body was fine and ready for more sexy time. His eyes brightened. He panted like a puppy. "Nope, not sore!"
"What about you?" Orihime asked Mizuiro.
"I don't have any dick problems," Mizuiro said in a mild voice.
"Oh."
"Then you two can go to the bathroom," Tatsuki said, fingers waving. "You're psychotic if you think we're doing anything risqué here."
Keigo melted into a boneless mass. "Why me?"
Mizuiro didn't say anything, frowning.
Orihime stood, walked to the access shaft door, and… she picked up a concrete block that had to weigh as much as herself, then placed it in front of the door. Her hands disappeared beneath her skirt. Winking, she pulled down white panties.
Meanwhile, Tatsuki stuffed light-blue panties into her skirt pocket.
Bones reformed in Keigo's back and limbs. His pulse was racing. His fingers and toes were tingling. "Holy shit, this is happening. This is really happening. No one wake me up."
"You're not asleep. Believe it." Tatsuki sat in front of the boys, legs open. Skirt fabric shrouded her crotch. "Take some photos. I don't want to forget this, ever."
Click.
Mizuiro was on it. "Pull your skirt up."
Tatsuki did as ordered, but she covered her pussy with her hand, and the camera clicked three times. Her face took on a missable blush. Her inner thighs were slimmer than before. Her eyebrow arched. "Shirt next?"
"Yes, please," Keigo said, swallowing saliva.
Orihime helped with that one. She unbuttoned Tatsuki from behind while Mizuiro took several photos. Their smiles were cute and impish. Naughty, naughty succubi. The way it was meant to be! Pure unadulterated sexual ecstasy.
The bra was unhooked.
Now Tatsuki was only wearing a skirt and knee-high socks—the right amount of clothing for a schoolgirl. One hand combed through her hair; the other stayed at her crotch. She licked her bottom lip in a way to suggest something was missing from her mouth. Click. Great photo. She massaged her breast, moaned softly. Click. Even better photo.
"Are you boys ready?" Tatsuki asked.
Mizuiro breathed, "Yeah."
Keigo tried to not scream, "I'm very ready."
Tatsuki removed her hand and sat with her legs a bit wider. Her pussy was wet and puffy and wonderfully pink. She stroked herself. The clicks were now sporadically endless. There were going to be hundreds, if not thousands, of photos once the boys were done with these two girls.
"Spread it," Keigo demanded, drooling.
"Spread what?" Tatsuki whispered.
"Spread you pussy, slut. Or I'll make you scream. Now."
Her fake sad pout was very pleasant. Two fingers spread her pussy lips. Her inner hole was so, so, so small, because her Hymen was intact. She had already eaten her Pink Pill. This was as good as a virgin pussy. And no one, not even Keigo's best friend, had the right to pop her. Her cherry juice was rightfully his. Manners and inhibition went out the window.
His marble-hard cock was suddenly out.
Tatsuki winced. "Please be gentle."
The notion of gentle no longer held any meaning to Keigo. His massive muscled arm hooked under her leg. His left hand guided his cock to her pussy.
He slammed inside.
His heart stopped as the camera clicked.
She bled.
A triumphant howl: "Fuck yes! So tight! So warm! Virgin cherry juice!" Her insides were better than anything in his most vivid and lucid dreams. No way could this be a dream. His brain could never scrounge up this mind-bending pleasure gripping his cock. Every nerve in his nob was cheering in victory.
Keigo Asano, the invincible Shinigami, was a virgin no longer.
Tatsuki was breathing heavily. She was sweating. She was looking at him with fiendish intensity. "That's it? You're not going to fuck me silly?"
"I am," he growled, then pulled out two-thirds. His shaft was covered in her red juice. His hips slammed back inside, and she groaned in pain. Again, pull out, slam in. And again. Again. Again. He fucked her with years of pent-up need. Each time he entered her, the slick friction sent a hit of pleasure directly into his brain. Each time her pained moans mellowed more into pleasure.
This was life. This was worth dying for.
Someone else's moans, higher pitched, joined Tatsuki's. Orihime—she was in a similar state of undress, on her back in the same missionary position, being fucking by Keigo's childhood bestest best friend. No one deserved Orihime's real virginity more than Mizuiro. Her breasts jiggled after each thrust. Mizuiro was taking photos of her at the same time. Don't forget about the photos!
Passing the camera back and forth, the boys fucked their girls. It didn't take many camera clicks before Mizuiro first drove into Orihime with a deeper thrust, breathlessly finishing inside. Then, watching Orihime's climaxing expression, Keigo could no longer hold in his own explosion.
Tatsuki moaned, "Not inside." She pushed against his chest.
"Yes, inside," he snarled, seizing her wrists, pinning her down.
"No." Her legs wrapped around him, as if that would possibly force him out. "Not inside! Keigo, stop! Please!"
Her acting pushed him over the finishing line. "Take it, slut!" Deep inside, his orgasm ruptured blinding euphoria, and it was over far too soon, half a dozen pumping spasms. His dick quickly went limp inside her.
His entire body went limp.
He fell backward onto concrete, gasping and gazing into the sun. Minutes passed, maybe hours, or days, he didn't care. His soul could be eviscerated in an inferno and he would die content. That was all he felt—blank content. Never had he experienced such an overpowering orgasm. Was this brain damage? He swore blood vessels must have burst in his skull.
Orihime broke the silence: "Mizuiro, you didn't say a single thing while you fucked me. Is it because you were disappointed?"
"No, that was splendid," Mizuiro instantly said. "I'm not as wild as Keigo."
Orihime laughed weakly. "Then I'm glad you took my virginity. And take more photos."
The camera clicked.
Cum mixed with red juice was leaking out of two freshly-popped pussies. The girls didn't dare hide it. In fact, they pridefully posed for more photos to make sure this moment was forever engraved into the universe. Naughty succubi. No, not naughty. They were anything but. They were most virtuous angelic Shinigami, fulfilling their god-given duty to their boys.
"Thank you," Keigo whispered.
Tatsuki's darling smile turned his heart to mush. "Any time."
Photocopiers and printers beeped and buzzed.
Keigo kept a lookout while his buddies handled glossy photos that could cause a nationwide outrage if the wrong eyes were to see them. The smell of ink jets made his head swim. All these books were old and musty, many yellowing. Through gaps in shelves, other students were loitering about, unaware of the printers spitting out lewd photos. The risk of getting caught was in itself a rush and turn on.
Chad stowed away a photo into his binder. A photo of Orihime showing her virgin hymen. "This one is nice."
Orihime rubbed his arm. "Sorry you weren't there."
"I don't mind," Chad said. "As long as you eat a Pink Pill for me later."
"Sure." Orihime's smile wasn't too enthusiastic.
Chad glanced at her face. "You don't have to if it hurts too much."
Orihime was about to say something as a girl walked near. Tatsuki and Mizuiro scrambled to cover up photos. When the girl walked past, not interested in the printers at all, Orihime mumbled, "Once we meet Ichigo in Soul Society, I'll eat a Pink Pill for him if he wants it. So if you boys really want it as well, I'll also eat Pink Pills for you. But maybe let me rest for a while."
"Same here," Tatsuki said.
"How much does it hurt?" Mizuiro asked.
"To be honest," Tatsuki said, "not as much as the first time. Although I was younger then, smaller."
"How old were you?" Keigo asked.
"Thirteen."
Keigo had to force himself to whimper, "Who was it with? Chad?"
In a casual voice that could be mistaken for dry humor, she said, "Nah, some guy from Karakura University raped me. It was the best of my life."
Keigo tasted salty tears. "This some guy was better than Keigo Asano?"
She looked at him with pity. "You weren't even close. Did you notice I didn't even orgasm? Out of you, Chad, and that guy, only you didn't make me orgasm. I thought a perv like you would be better. How pathetic."
The humiliation was a sword through his throat. He slumped against a bookshelf.
Author's Note: I might significantly edit the sex scene so it's longer and more detailed.
Review responses:
- Looks like this this fic is starting to make people go mad... Fear not, the depravity will only intensify.
- The reincarnation/soul balance system will be clarified, and it is slightly different to canon.
- Ichigo's spiritual pressure attack was similar in nature to when, in canon, the Soul King's released power descended on the Seireitei as a swarm of black eyeballs. Notice how Ichigo was able to spare the horses and his friends.
- Details of Rukia's powerup will be revealed.