Whisper To Me

BY : fareys_delight
Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 7121
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. their respective owners do. I make absolutely no money from this or any fanfiction I write.

Title: Whisper to Me


Fandom: Bleach/Kuroshitsuji


Part: Prologue


Characters: Ichigo


Word count: 1,653


Warnings: Character death, blood


AN: I wish to welcome everyone to this lovely new fanfiction from me. :D I do have a few things that I need to go over before we get into the story though, so please read through this. Thank you.

1) Yes, this is a Kuroshitsuji/Bleach fanfiction.


2) No the final pairings do not include Sebastian/Ciel/Ichigo. Instead, it is William/Ichigo.


3) It is in the Bleach world with the original Kuroshitsuji world as the history.


4) Any sex or sexual situations found within this story will not be posted on Fanfiction . Net. Please note this. Those chapters will be placed elsewhere.


5) I will be posting on MONDAYS and FRIDAYS for this story. My mini's are posted on Wednesdays or the next posting day if I miss Wednesday for whatever reason.


6) This story has been completely written.


7) This is only Arc 1. Arc 2 is in the works.

I believe that's it. I will have warnings for each chapter mind you so yeah.

A big, big thank you to CutsyCat for betaing this monster of a story and to Affy-chan for daring to be so willing to read as I write, offering thoughts and ideas for this lovely story. Thank you both! You guys rock!

And to my readers: Reviews are lovely things, really. Even a “I like it” is welcomed even if I don't respond to them. Not a lot I can say beyond thank you. They inspire me to write more. :D

 


*~*~*~*

When he walked up to the front door, a frown pulled at his lips at the sheer stillness that didn’t feel right coming from his home. He had been away on a field trip to Tokyo and it had just ended that day, Ryuuken Ishida dropping him off before leaving to take Uryuu to his own apartment.




 


But something just didn’t feel right.




 


It was too still, too quiet. His father should be making a fuss with the sweeter sound of his sisters add to the feeling of home. But there wasn’t a single sound that filtered out into the late evening. And it put him on edge, wondering what was going on inside.




 


Swallowing, Ichigo fished out his keys and opened the front door, stepping inside. Looking down at his feet, he noted that his sisters school shoes were still next to the door, which was unusual considering that they tended to put them into the closet after a snack and dropping off their bags in their rooms. Licking his lips, he looked around, seeing the lights on in the kitchen.




 


“Hello?” he called, moving into the kitchen and looking around. On the counter were two plates and a bag of cookies. Picking one up, he noticed that they were still soft, so they had been pulled down earlier by one of the twins or their dad. “Hello? Karin? Yuzu? You guys here?” he called once more, leaving the kitchen and peeking into the living room.




 


No one there. He walked slowly up the stairs, idly remembering that he had left his suitcases outside and that he should probably bring them in. But something told him not to. Not yet at least. And he tended to trust his instincts. Even at the young age of 15, he had honed them to a fine point to deal with his father’s antics and the idiots who tried to attack him via ambush or from behind.




 


“Where is everyone?” he muttered as he looked into his room, coming to a complete stop. The entire room had been ransacked. Clothes were strewn about on the floor, his mattress was shredded while drawers from his small closet dresser and desk had been ripped out and dumped, almost as if someone had been looking for something.




 


He wondered what it had been that they had been looking for and if they had found it or not.




 


Feeling a chill race down his spine, he turned and raced for the girl’s room. He prayed that the scent that had been tickling his nose with familiarity wasn’t what he thought it was. He came to a dead stop in the hallway, gagging at the sight of his father lying on the floor. There was a small pool of blood, probably coming from the exit wound of whatever had gone into Isshin Kurosaki’s back, leaving him dead on the floor before the girl’s bedroom. Carefully moving around his father’s body, he peeked into the room and keened softly at the sight of his sisters with matching wounds, lying on the ground.




 


Yuzu still held a pretty little dress she had been about to change into in her hands, while Karin’s soccer ball sat near her.




 


“Oh, God, Karin…Yuzu,” he choked out before stumbling back out of the room, still careful as to where he was walking. Moving to his father’s room, finding it only a little bit messed up, he swallowed and moved to the dresser. Glad at the least that he didn’t have to deal with the drawers, he reached down and removed the flat bottom with careful ease. Staring at the multitude of papers, he pulled them all out along with a simple, black flip phone that they paid a small monthly fee to keep activated, only one number programmed into it that updated.




 


They rarely had to charge it seeing as it sat shut off for the most part. Just as his mother had done when she had been alive and had first told them that the phone was to be used if both of their parents were hurt or they had to run to somewhere safe.




 


Sliding the phone into his pocket, he ran downstairs with the papers in his hands, having replaced the false bottom of the dresser and grabbed the cordless phone. Stepping outside, gagging now that he could tell the difference of the air, he dialed for the police, breaking down on the line with the dispatcher. Several cars and ambulances arrived after only a few minutes, finding him sitting on the porch, clutching the phone and his suitcase, unable to stop the tears that dripped down his face slowly.




 


As the crime scene was gone over, a nice detective named Yusuke Urameshi took him to the police station and took his statement about what had happened in his private office. Once the statement had been taken, the slightly older man leant forward, fingers laced as he gazed at Ichigo, who had curled up into one corner, sitting in a state of slight shock.




 


“Is there anyone that I can call for you?” Yusuke asked lowly, Ichigo shaking his head, limp hair flopping back and forth over his forehead.




 


“No, no. I’ll call them. I just need to leave a message for them and they should get back to me within a day,” Ichigo husked, his voice raw from his crying.




 


“Alright. How about I set you up in a secure hotel for the time being then, huh? I’ll also have someone watching over you for the time being,” Yusuke stated, reaching out for his phone and calling for a room for Ichigo to be stocked with some easy food to make and some drinks. He prodded the other for clues as to what he drank. Once that was set up, he stood and smiled in understanding. “I’m going to go grab a simpler car for our trip. Do you need to clean your clothes while there?” he asked, Ichigo nodding.




 


“Yeah. I only packed enough for my trip and until my stuff is released….” Ichigo trailed off, getting an understanding look.




 


“Luckily, the room you’re getting has a washer and dryer, along with a small kitchenette so you should be good for a few days. I’m going to want you to go into hiding, so depending on what the person you’re calling says, I’ll get that ball rolling,” Yusuke told him, getting a nod as Ichigo pulled out the cell phone.




 


“Thank you, Urameshi-san,” Ichigo hummed, getting a small smile and a nod from the other man.




 


“It’s not a problem. I’ll be back in 15,” he promised before leaving, closing the door firmly behind him and heading to get a car. Ichigo sighed and flipped the phone open and turning it on. Once it had loaded, he found the one number in the phone and called it.




 


“Leave your name. We will know your number. Tell us how you got our number and who gave you the phone in your hand,” a silky smooth voice stated after a single ring. “We will call you within 24 hours of you placing this call to tell you if we can help or not.”




 


Taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, Ichigo spoke. “My name is Ichigo Kurosaki. My mother, Masaki Kurosaki, gave me and my two sisters this phone just in case something happened to either of my parents. My mother died when I was six and I have just found my father and twin sisters dead in my home. I fear that whoever has killed my family will come after me. This probably has to do with my father’s past…” he trailed off, thinking about the serious talk that he and his father had had after a massive fight between them. “I dare not go into it here and I don’t know if you know who he once was, but…I need help. A Detective Yusuke Urameshi will be taking me to a hotel. I will be able to give you details where I am and what happened when you call back. Thank you.”




 


With that said, he hung up and stuck it back in his pocket as Yusuke came back with a smile and a nod. “Come on, I have a car. It’s waiting for us out back and one of the officers will be bringing over all of your clothes,” he said, watching a slight blush and a worried expression flit across Ichigo’s cheeks. “A, the officer is a woman and she is very professional and b, she won’t tell anyone what kind of underwear you wear. Is there anything else you want out of your house?”




 


“Can she grab a box of art supplies? I noticed that they hadn’t tipped it out of my closet when I looked in my room,” Ichigo said, standing up and grabbing his suitcase as Yusuke nodded. As they walked out of the room, the detective texted the request and took him to a high security hotel on the outskirts of town, making sure that he would be comfortable once they were there.




 


Once his laundry had been put into the washer, a small meal eaten, and his phone put on a charger nearby the large bed, Ichigo gave into his grief once more and mourned his family, crying until he slept. No dreams haunted him as in Tokyo a butler checked the messages on a special line and cocked an eyebrow at a name that he had not heard in so long. It came from a young man that he remembered cooing at him when he had glared at the child for daring to pee on him.




 


“Interesting,” the butler murmured before jotting down the needed information and closing the phone. “Master, there was a message from young Ichigo Kurosaki…”



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