The Rain's Zenith

BY : ChocolateCarnival
Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 883
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters there within, it all belongs to Kubo Tite. This is purely written for my own pleasure, I make no money from this.

Right, I know I'm a little early with this one but I'd like to get the first part of it done before moving on to the next part and another update. I've decided to split it into a two-shot because it seems to flow fairly well for it. There's isn't much in this story at the moment, it is just a brief two-shot AU setting that works from the inspiration of Masaki Rioka's Trust Me. Meaning that it's probably going to have a lot of warnings for the lemon, but that I'll get to that in a moment's time.


This is only the introduction my honeys, I need to lay down my setting before it gets really complicated and it looks to be something that'll have quite a big word count for a mere two-shot. So, I'll be gifting you the first part of it so long and the second in several days from now to complete it if I don't start work on Winter's Eternal Love later tonight when working over its plot again. There are quite a few warnings so please heed them now:


This story contains: M/M Lemonsthe use of sex toyslight bondageblood playice playIncestTwin-cest, a completely AU setting that is centred around Modern Day Japan and Kyoh's character from Trust Me has a heavy influence over how I'm writing Shiro in this one. A set pairings between Shirosaki Hichigo x Kurosaki Ichigo. There are no canon facts in this story, it is solely written for the lemon that'll be happening in the next part. Meaning that it's certifiable smut with little true plot.


If any of the warnings have put you off, then I ask that you do not read any further. There will be an underlying tone of BDSM in this story, not full on, but it WILL be there. So this is all the warnings that I can offer you, remember this is only the first part.


The next part will be up when I feel up to it and can actually sit down to write it, I'm getting rather busy in my life at the moment. For now though, I'll see you at the end of Part 1:




The Rain's Zenith: Part 1


Dancing on the edge of obscurity where fallen raindrops conceal the innocence of tears; a thunderclap becomes the impulse of fate. Time stops. Suspended in that deafening and all encompassing silence, we are infinite. Nothing exists but us. Two souls, two beings and two lives twined irrevocably and eternally together as the world becomes bathed in the shadows of forgotten society. You and I, we are bound by a red string of fate that is only visible once the truth of our eternal love can finally be revealed. But untill then...we are the rain, the tears, the joy, the sorrow, the love and the very fabric that sculpts our eternally shared souls.


Let me become the very breath that you breathe, Onii-san...the tears that you cry, the comfort to soothe away your pain and the healer of your undeserved scars.




It was cold, icy tendrils of sensation streaking across dimly lit skin as lidded chocolate brown orbs gazed up at the early evening sky with quiet concern. Large, fat drops of rain were falling from a dark and pregnant sky; the howling wind writhing and twisting through a complicated labyrinth of streets as it chased an unexpected shiver down a straightened spine. Kurosaki Ichigo was standing still in the middle of a park early one winter night, his entire form having stopped moving the moment that a harsh torrent of rain had erupted so that he could simply bathe himself in the quiet calm that the weather ignited across the depths of his heart. There was a perpetual scowl furrowing tangerine brows, several breaths falling from parted strawberry red lips as pale eyelids fluttered shut to collect himself from the scattered sensations that were racing across tanned skin and sinking into the fabric of a warm, dark blue winter coat. Misty puffs of white air were colouring the very atmosphere with soft exhales every few seconds, the winter evening having penetrated a cold grip through several layers of warmth as thick black clouds settled itself upon Karakura Town and elegant fingertips pulled a warm scarf more firmly around his neck.


All around him people were running for shelter, seeking to hide from the rain's touch as it picked up a ragging torrent of turmoiled water and intensifying cold. But Ichigo refused to move from where he was. There was sorrowful frown tugging at red lips, the twenty-year-old student tipping his head back to better feel the water's haunting caress as messy and spiky orange bangs began to adhere to newly wet skin and the crisp scent of freshly fallen rain overwhelmed his senses from all sides. Individual water drops were blending together to obscure the lenses of curved rectangular glasses, vibrant black and red frames settled across the bridge of a straight nose as Ichigo curled his palm around a messenger bag's strap and shifted the weight of his textbooks to a more comfortable position. In those moments, he knew that nothing mattered but the lilting grief that the brewing storm chased across his soul. Its freezing touch was but a small, grounding, reprieve to pacify the unusual array of emotions that had been growing within his soul since Ichigo had stepped into the last lecture of the day. And even though it was unusual for him to feel so unsettled by absolutely nothing, sometimes he was simply overwhelmed with bouts of unexplainable emotion that were not his own.


There was a concerned sigh falling from luscious strawberry red lips; the tinkling array of twining black chains, several stylish belts and silver studs caressing sensitive ears as Ichigo barely even flinched when a resounding crash of thunder echoed deafeningly through the night mere seconds later. He was taking in the dark skies above him, watching the rolling, thick, clouds for several long minutes before gazing down at the green grass that was spread beneath black booted feet and his body instinctively leant into every individual drop that caressed his face. It was almost like a gentle kiss of conciliation, the orangette mourning the fact that he was eventually forced to pull the furred edges of a dark blue hood over his head to shield himself from the world. Left to shudder in restless emotion when several sensations of increasing panic twisted and curled sickeningly in the pit of his stomach, Ichigo whimpered softly as it alighted an array of instinct he had learned, long ago, to attach to his beloved getting himself into some kind of dangerous trouble again. There was an undeniable curse rising irritably in his throat, restless fingertips tightening around a black messenger bag to ground himself as Ichigo went over all the frightening possibilities that Shiro-nii had gotten himself seriously hurt for stupid reasons again.


And with so many unknown possibilities that something could have gone wrong, the orange haired student could barely take a step forward without feeling as if the world would literally shatter below his feet...


As the twin sons of Kurosaki Isshin and the deceased Kurosaki Masaki, Ichigo and his few minute older twin, Shiro, were the most beloved children of a small town family and the pride of their parents' souls. Sadly though, Ichigo knew that they could only truly be considered the pride of their father's heart. The twins had lost their mother to a tragedy many years before when they had still been very young. An event that Ichigo still mourned deeply to this day. Her loss was not something that the orangette would ever forgive himself for. He still believed that what had happened had been his fault and no matter what the others told him, it wasn't something that he could let go of so easily. When it rained in harsh torrents like this, Ichigo was sure that he could still feel the lingering dregs of those emotions. The deep, sometimes helpless, darkness that he felt at the loss of her light was saturating his skin, taking over his heart piece by piece and slowly but surely bathing his entire soul in cold tendrils of pure regret. And the only reality to settle himself that Ichigo could find, was in harsh discipline, several impenetrable walls constructed around his heart and a perpetual scowl fixed between tangerine brows.


It was the only coping mechanisms that had taught him how to conceal his emotions from his father's overly sharp brown eyes, to shield himself from the ups and downs of fate and to stop worrying his brother that seemed to possess an unusual sixth sense when it came to sensing his twin's turmoiled emotions. But no matter how many times Shiro and Isshin had tried to get Ichigo to let go of his lingering despair, the orangette simply refused to budge on this matter. He was rightfully stubborn, damn it! Just like Shi-nii was overly stubborn and his father was born stubborn. These emotions, however, didn't really matter when Ichigo was faced with something else that was distressing him. The contemplative student had stilled in the rain that night because of something else...something intangible and externally fearful that was twisting sickeningly and warningly through his very veins by now. It was crawling coldly beneath his skin, telling his heart of a hidden situation that was looming on the horizon he simply did not want to face. And by strange instinct alone, Ichigo knew that Shiro-nii, his most beloved brother and truly the other half of his soul, was at the centre of it all.


It wasn't often that thoughts of Shiro were wrenched into the forefront of Ichigo's racing mind when he was in class, not like it had been that day. But when it did happen, the strange twist in his stomach told him that something had happened. And as it was going now, chasing up the emotional instability that was sinking a stone of dread into the depths of his soul, Ichigo found it exceedingly hard to move beyond the spot that his feet had come to a halt upon. He could still remember breathing his brother's name in surprise when the first lash of that anxiety had bubbled up in his throat, the concerned and confused stares that had descended upon his form from those sitting close to him and the sickening feeling of having to physically keep himself back from reaching a state of panic when he had called Shiro's cell ten minutes ago and had gotten no answer. Shi always picked up if Ichigo was the one calling, he and his Onii-san had a rule about that and when he didn't...Ichigo tended to get worried. This rustle of instinct, this brush of groundless anxiety and brewing concern was something that Ichigo knew he shouldn't be ignoring...especially considering the shakily kept secret that they were the sons of the fallen Shiba Clan Head.


Being the only two living relations to a once revered Yakuza Clan was dangerous. In the depths of the dark underworld, the Shiba family's enemies tended to punish the sons of the fathers who had sinned instead of the other way around. It was a vicious cycle that could ignite terrifying and life threatening situations at every corner, many that Ichigo and Shiro had both been forced to live through countless times before. But Ichigo's inherent stubbornness though, was fighting these sensations when his rationality had started to protest against them violently. There was nothing more that he could do but to keep reminding himself that he may simply be concerned over nothing again. Something like this had happened before, after all. But to the twenty-year-old, something felt different this time. Out of place within him and as he stood still for several more moments to collect himself, he fumbled through his jean's pocket for his phone again. He was abruptly startled though, when it came to life right in his hands. A familiar ringtone was shattering the stillness around him, his father's well known and excitable voice erupting over the other end of the line as Ichigo answered seconds later and instantly felt a touch of rage when he had unknowingly braced himself for the worst possible news.


'Shut up, Oyaji!' He yelled harshly, pulling the phone away from his ear when the older Kurosaki's greeting rang deafeningly in his ears and the unusual distraction served to drag him from the grip of deeply turmoiled thoughts. Intricately buckled and heavy calf-length black boots were stepping across Karakura's children park, the orange haired teen finding enough anxious concern within him to head in the direction of his and Shiro's shared apartment without losing too much of himself along the way. 'What the hell are you shouting about now?! I can barely hear you, Tou-san.' Ichigo reprimanded in growing frustration, his heart thudding erratically in his chest as a delayed shiver from an icy cold wind chased sheer trepidation down his spine. Isshin's usual playful antics was not something that Ichigo wanted to listen to now, especially when it wasn't helping the concerns that he was feeling. His father was only serving to make it worse but when the older being went silent for several seconds, Ichigo felt his steps faltering the instant that a deeply serious baritone crept much more clearly over the connected line.


'Are you alright, Ichigo?' Eventually answering the concerned tone without sparing it any real thought, the orange haired teen was programmed to respond in a deceitful lie just so that he could avoid the rest of the questions that would come afterwards if he responded with the truth. 'Get out of the rain, Ichigo. You're probably soaking wet by now.' Stopping dead still at those words, Ichigo was just about to part his lips to protest when Isshin interrupted his reply before a single word left his lips. 'Get out of the rain, Ichigo...don't think I can't hear it in the background! Dealing with one disobedient son is enough, don't test my patience by becoming the second one as well.' Ichigo froze, the pure panic that he had so valiantly managed to keep back over the past hour was swimming into him just as fiercely and harshly as ever before. He was overwhelmed by it near instantly, his father's words containing an undeniable message that he simply couldn't ignore anymore as he hastened his steps towards home. Several shuddering breaths of strain were falling distressingly from parted lips, messy orange locks sticking to wet cheek as Ichigo leaned his back against a nearby building wall and stood beneath the shelter of a small awning.


'W-what happened to Shi-nii, Dad? Is it bad?' He could hear an exasperated sigh crackling across the phone line at his question, another thunder clap cracking across the sky to drown out the first curse word that left Isshin's lips before Ichigo pressed his boot back against the wall and tried to calm the desperately erratic rhythm of his heart. 'Now how did you know I was even calling about that?' Ichigo decided against barking a sarcastic response this time, his mind far too scattered to think of one when he stepped out into the rain again and steeled his resolve to make it through the last three blocks that separated him from his brother. 'B-because I felt it, I can still feel it. Something feels off within me, Oyaji, so that tells me that something must have happened to Shiro.' Offering the older being a moment to collect his thoughts, Ichigo pressed the phone more firmly against his ear as he briefly gazed up at the dark sky again. The small action had caused the hood of his winter coat to fall back, messy orange locks exposed to the rain once more as Ichigo carefully analyzed the brief flow of the conversation with a more logical approach than before.


'Right...I forgot that you two do that sometimes.' Listening intently to his father's fairly rested response, a small breath of forced calm spilled from strawberry red lips as Ichigo knew somehow that his concerns were probably not as bad as he initially thought they were. The fact that his father hadn't started off the conversation with a deeply serious tone, made Ichigo aware that it wasn't too deadly but because Isshin had switched into his more 'serious' and 'concerned' personality so quickly...meant that the situation was probably not the best that he could hope for either. 'Your breaths seemed to have calmed, Ichigo, so I can tell you now that you should probably return home. I can't tell you too much detail, talking on the phone in the rain isn't a good idea but there's no need to worry yourself too much. Shiro seems to have forgotten his inherent speed in a knife fight again, cocky bastard. I've told him that he needs to stay out of street skirmishes like that but you know your twin better than I, sometimes he simply can't leave them alone. I fixed him up for now, but he'll be sleeping off the pain for the next few hours. I thought that I'd let you know what happened before you arrived home to discover him by yourself.'


'Thanks Oyaji, I'll probably be home in a few minutes.' Ichigo noted gratefully, an anxious flutter still lilting through his soul at his father's words but at least the icy grip of panic had not entirely enclosed his heart in a fist of ice. 'Right, now get out of the rain! And dry yourself off, too! I'm at the clinic tonight so if he's not doing so well when he wakes. Just force him back into bed and call me. But, knowing him, he should be alright...' Eventually sliding the phone into his jean's pocket once the line went dead, a shaky sigh spilled passed parted lips as Ichigo allowed his mind to drift through the chaotic few minutes that had descended so wholly upon the depths of his soul. Shiro-nii was supposed to have had the day off from University. His classes ran a different schedule than Ichigo's own and the fact that he had gotten injured earlier, meant that he mush have gone out somewhere. But really, a knife in a street skirmish? That was enough to in-still a different sort of dread into Ichigo's stomach. It meant that someone had deliberately tried to injure Shiro again and they had succeeded by the sound of it. The younger Kurosaki twin just didn't want to know what the attacker had looked like afterwards.


Shiro's temper was notoriously short, his patience even shorter and when someone pulled a knife on him...he tended to lose the precarious control that he had around his actions.


Shiro-nii had quite a frightening reputation on the streets and the underworld alike, just like Ichigo did. An unwanted label that had, sadly, carried over into their University life from left behind High School years. The Kurosaki Twins, it was well known that if you pissed one off...you'd get taken out by the other. Shiro was very protective over his little brother and the strange tie that bound their souls so closely together, was a deadly reliance that had felled their darkest and most dangerous enemies more than once. Ichigo truly loved his brother, Shi-nii was the only being in the world that Ichigo protected just as fiercely as he was protected and would offer his life for without second thought. He was well aware that as a result, he harboured a much deeper love for his twin than what should be considered normal. Something that society would more than look down upon should anyone find out about it. But Ichigo had long since stopped paying attention to what the world thought of him; the depths of his emotions were not something that he liked to question when it could hurt him with an endless loop of self-hatred and desperate confusion...


Abruptly halting wondering thoughts when they reached too far into his soul for now, Ichigo barely even took note of the minutes that had passed and the fact that he had reached the second floor apartment that he called his home. He was unlocking the door with frustrated fumbling keys, the orange haired twenty-year-old taking his boots off in the foyer before leaving a wet coat hanging on a nearby hook. Socked feet were shakily transversing the darkened depths of the modest apartment, the two room home opening up welcomingly around him as it sent a comforting and gentle warmth sinking into icy, shivering cold skin. Chocolate brown eyes were only briefly casting a concerned gaze over the neatly decorated living room to search for his twin's form. And when there was no shock of brilliant white hair to greet his gaze, quiet footsteps led him in the direction of Shiro's room instead. He would have called out a gentle greeting by now but Ichigo didn't want to wake Shiro if he was sleeping, not when Isshin had told him what had happened. The orangette didn't want to cause his beloved any more unrest than what he was already experiencing.


So when Ichigo carefully entered a partially ajar door, he could only breathe a quiet sigh of relief when he noticed a familiar form hidden beneath pitch black sheets and a dark green comforter. The older of the two was fast asleep, turned on his side so that he faced Ichigo and even shifted restlessly in his sleep as if sensing his twin's approaching presence when Ichigo drew closer. It was deeply disconcerting that the orangette couldn't tell where exactly Shiro had been injured, but at the mere sight of those hauntingly familiar features and hip-length white locks...he felt like he could finally draw his soul out of the restless emotions that had been chasing through his blood for a long while now. Ichigo was quietly seating himself close to his brother's side, a shaky breath falling from his lips as he dragged tender fingertips across a cool forehead to feel for a fever before tracing a soft cheeks and the beginnings of square white medical eye patch that was settled across a left eye. Soft white locks were tickling his skin, whispering across the tips of fingers as Ichigo ruffled his fingers through it briefly and leant down to press warm lips to the centre of a smooth forehead.


'Making me worry again, Onii-san.' A haunting tenor breathed in strain, the twenty-year-old student taking no comfort from the fact that Shiro-nii had been injured again. All that Ichigo could do in those moments was lean forward so that their foreheads rested together for several minutes as he tried not to recall the thousands of other times that he had been faced with the same terrifying sensation of concern as he was now. It wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last but Ichigo could only breathe the tiniest sigh of relief that it didn't seem so bad as the time that his beloved had lost the sight in his left eye whilst protecting him in the final year of High School.


That was also something that Ichigo would never forgive himself for.




Right, so there you have it my honeys. All done and thank you so much for reading, if I could get a tiny review for my hard work...I'd really appreciate it. I apologize that it may take a while until I get out the second part but if things go well, I'll have it out, hopefully, before next week Thursday sometime. It's not much yet, but I'll try to get everything done as soon as possible.


For now though, I'm off for a warm bath and some much needed rest. Coming down with a cold and faced with an entire 10 000 words that still has to be written before The Rain's Zenith reaches an end, looks quite a big task to accomplish.


Yours Always


Chocolate Carnival



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