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The Heart in My Hand	By : chayron Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 10028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 14
- 15
- 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.
Warnings:
1. Yaoi (male x male). Ulquiorra x Ichigo and vice versa. Other pairings?
2. Ichigo – almost 19 years old; Ulquiorra – probably a few hundred as a Hollow and about a decade or so as an Arrancar?
3. Post anime (haven’t read the manga).
4. Alternate Universe.
5. I’m not a native speaker, thus expect various language oddities.
6. I’m not very familiar with all the details in the anime, and I am also new to Bleach fandom, so I will be straying away from the canon quite frequently. I do my research but Bleach is a vast universe that is not so easy to grasp. I must admit, though, that there are also things in the anime that don’t make sense to me and I take the liberty of recreating certain parts of this universe as I see fit.
7. I do not like or see the need to use the Spanish names for the Arrancar attacks or their combos, thus they will be changed into English or Japanese equivalents.

The Heart in My Hand
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Ash
Part 15
Make sure he doesn’t get lost in his emotions.
Easy for Kisuke to say. Ichigo frowned at Ulquiorra, who was sitting on his futon, getting ready to go to sleep. He was tinkering with his mobile phone.
“How are you feeling?” Ichigo asked him. He was sitting on his bed, only in boxers.
The other man raised his head to look at him. Recently, Ichigo had become exceedingly interested in him. He had a feeling that this overflowing concern was Urahara’s doing.
“I’m fine.”
Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow when, after a moment of hesitation, Ichigo sat down next to his futon. The color on the red-head’s face changed from white to pink then back again. This was going to be interesting.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” Ichigo asked, scratching his bare chest awkwardly. “Erm…”
Ulquiorra stared at him for a few moments then lowered his phone to the floor. “Yes,” he said to Ichigo’s expectant face. “How about we talk about why you’ve been acting like an idiot lately?”
“Ah.” Ichigo shifted awkwardly. Unsurprisingly, Ulquiorra had suspected something was up. Now there was no way around it. After all, honesty was the best policy, or something like that anyway. “We’re worried that you might have difficulties with coping with new emotions.”
Ulquiorra’s emerald eyes blinked at him. “Who, me? Emotions? What emotions?”
“New emotions.”
Ulquiorra was still giving him a confused look, and Ichigo mentally cursed Kisuke. “Mmnn… Well, we thought that, maybe, with the occurring changes, you’d have a hard time adjusting.”
“You mean you’re afraid that I will become mentally unstable,” Ulquiorra clarified.
“Err…” the red-head drawled uncertainly. Ulquiorra didn’t even look upset. He went right past and was now bathing in a weird mix of rage and amusement. “It’s not exactly that. We just…”
“Tell Urahara,” Ulquiorra spat, “that if he keeps this up, it will be him who will have a hard time adjusting to the changes after I run him through with my Zanpakuto.”
“That’s a pretty long sentence,” Ichigo said jokingly.
“I’m sure you’ll remember it, since it seems that you’re not having trouble with your emotions. Only with that Hollow, and Shinigami, and Quincy, and… What else do you have?”
“Fullbringer,” Ichigo supplied him mournfully.
“Oh right, how could I have forgotten? Must be my emotions acting up.”
Ichigo groaned. “Okay, forget I ever asked.”
Ulquiorra snorted softly, as if showing that he was ready to consider a truce. So as not to dispel the ceasefire, Ichigo kept quiet for a few moments. His gaze traveled to Ulquiorra’s head. Without his Hollow mask, Ulquiorra looked odd. In fact, it was not that he looked odd, but Ichigo was used to seeing the white mask and horn there, attached.
The hair that used to be hidden by the mask seemed to be darker than the rest. Curious, Ichigo reached out to touch the strands. They felt smooth under his fingers. The difference in color was probably due to the hair there not getting as much sunlight as the rest.
Ulquiorra sat still, letting Ichigo satisfy his curiosity then reached out as well, his hand settling on the back of Ichigo’s head. The red-head’s eyes widened slightly when Ulquiorra’s hand slid down to his nape and ruffled through the short hair there. He had been careless.
The palm offered light pressure and brought Ichigo’s head closer to Ulquiorra’s. Ichigo still didn’t know how to react when, wasting no time, Ulquiorra’s mouth pressed to his. He felt surprised, but, in all honesty, he had expected this. Ulquiorra was massaging his nape in a strange blend of soothing and demanding motions. Then Ulquiorra bit on his lower lip, demanding entrance, and Ichigo let him in.
What surprised Ichigo most was that Ulquiorra was good at kissing. He couldn’t even begin to imagine where or due to whose courtesy Ulquiorra had picked up a skill like this. The red-head, on the other hand, didn’t have much experience. He even felt cheated somehow.
Awkwardly, Ichigo answered the kiss. It did feel good. Ulquiorra was still massaging his nape and it felt exhilarating. When they finally broke the kiss and Ulquiorra leaned away, Ichigo’s face flushed red. Wiping his mouth, the red-head muttered under his breath. His thoughts were chaotic and he thought that maybe he should be asking Ulquiorra why he had kissed him, but that seemed stupid. He neither wanted to protest nor ask – he knew that he had brought this on by himself. He had been careless not making his stance and Ulquiorra had just felt like doing it. Maybe Ulquiorra thought he had been intentionally provoked.
And then the other man was kissing him again, now firm and daring. It was how Ichigo imagined a man would kiss; it didn’t remind him of Orihime’s tentative kisses at all. And, since he had lost his chance to protest during the first kiss, he simply went with the flow.
Ulquiorra’s hands turned as daring as his kisses and were now roaming over Ichigo freely, touching, squeezing. Ulquiorra’s mouth traveled to his neck, lips brushing over the sensitive skin there, teeth grazing lightly. The hands turned even bolder and Ichigo soon realized that Ulquiorra was pushing him down onto the futon. Ichigo pushed at the other man’s chest.
“What are you doing?”
Ulquiorra gave him a confused look. “Sex?” he offered. He became even more confused when this appeared to bother Ichigo. The red-head’s eyes widened as if surprised that this kind of thing led to sex. Well, of course it led to sex, where else would it lead?
Ichigo was excited already, his erection tenting the front of his boxers. Ulquiorra slipped his hand into the underwear and squeezed lightly. Ichigo’s eyes were now so wide they looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. The red-head suddenly became very lively, his hand diving into his boxers as well, trying to slap him away. Ulquiorra let go and pushed Ichigo down onto the futon. Ichigo didn’t seem to like this either and tried to wriggle away. Ulquiorra pressed him down to keep him still. He didn’t understand the problem since the red-head was obviously aroused.
Ichigo struggled, but could feel how meaningless his resistance was. As long as he was in his body, Ulquiorra could hold him down with his little finger. His badge was on the bedside cabinet, Kon was…somewhere. He had the option of shouting for help, but that seemed absurd. His sisters, his father… This whole situation was absurd.
“Let go of me!” Ichigo demanded.
“No.”
“Let go, you bastard!”
“Why would I?”
Ulquiorra’s voice was calm albeit permeated with a strange blend of arousal and aggression. Ichigo felt a familiar panic start to build up, the same that he had experienced in the kitchen, back when Ulquiorra had wanted to test his strength.
“Let…!” He suddenly punched the air as his hands were unexpectedly released. Ichigo bolted up and over the bed to grab his badge from the bedside cabinet. In his Shinigami form, he turned to Ulquiorra, who was watching him from the futon with his eyebrows raised.
“What are you doing?” Ulquiorra asked.
Ichigo stared at him and suddenly felt like an idiot. He had even drawn his Zanpakuto. Only now, staring at Ulquiorra, he saw that the other man was slowly staring to realize that he had scared him, and it seemed to confuse Ulquiorra even more. Feeling foolish like never before, Ichigo dropped his fighting stance and sheathed his Zanpakuto. He sat on his bed.
“Come here,” Ulquiorra told him, motioning with his hand.
“No.”
Ulquiorra lowered his hand and his questioning look slid over Ichigo’s hakama. “It’s still up,” he stated.
The red-head looked down at his lap. So it was. Amazing. “So what? Men react to anything,” he declared defensively.
“Do they?” Ulquiorra wondered. “I don’t.”
Ichigo slapped his forehead with a soft groan. “Can you not do that?”
“Not do what?”
“Not…” Ichigo flailed his hands around. “Not… Just don’t do that!”
Ulquiorra gave him an amused look, but said nothing. Ichigo played with his badge, trying to make sense of the situation.
“What’s the problem?” Ulquiorra asked.
Ichigo pursed his lips. There were so many problems that he didn’t even know where to start. Ignoring the question, he climbed off the bed to see how his body was doing. He winced at the sight of his bleeding forehead that had obviously hit the corner of the bedside cabinet. The red-head got a tissue and pressed it to the cut. It was just a scratch, but the bruise was going to shine with all the colors of the rainbow. He sighed.
“So what do I do about this now?”
Ichigo turned to see Ulquiorra pointing at his lap. “Do whatever the hell you want!” the red-head hissed, turning away again. Then he realized that was a bad answer. “But that should not include me!” he added.
“That’s not fair. It’s your fault, after all.”
Ready to snap, Ichigo turned to him again. Ulquiorra was watching him curiously. “Stop staring at me,” Ichigo said.
“You’re being awfully demanding all of a sudden.”
“Me? Demanding?” Ichigo choked with indignation. He heaved up his body and tossed it onto the bed. “Now look here…”
“What’s the racket?!” Karin shouted, kicking at the wall from the other side. “Will you let me sleep?”
Ichigo closed his mouth. He glared at Ulquiorra. “Yeah, sorry!” he shouted back.
- - -
Ichigo leaned back in the chair and sipped his tea. His sisters had already gone to school, but his lectures didn’t start until ten. His father was already in the clinic; Ichigo could hear him bustling about, getting ready to open. The red-head let out a sigh and took another sip. Damn Kisuke and his meddling. If not for him, nothing like this would have happened.
As if.
Ichigo finished his tea and pushed away the mug. He gently touched the bruise on his forehead. Karin had wanted to put a plaster on it, but he had refused.
Why did he go along with that kiss? No, he knew why. That wasn’t the right question.
What’s the problem?
That was the question. Only… Which problem? Was the problem that he had been kissed by a male Arranc-? It wasn’t even clear what he was. Was it that he didn’t even mind being kissed by him, or that he was curious about the whole thing? Was it that Ulquiorra obviously wanted more? Or that he didn’t have a clear stance on any of this? Probably all of them. One huge problem.
As if on cue, Ichigo felt a familiar spark of energy appear somewhere further in town and soon Ulquiorra was walking through the wall and into the kitchen. All requests not to do so had been ignored. He was probably returning from his daily trip of seeing Karin and Yuzu to school.
“Morning,” Ichigo said.
Ulquiorra nodded and headed past him into the corridor. Ichigo could hear him traipsing around, then the sound of steps disappeared into the basement. The red-head’s shoulders relaxed. At least this didn’t make things awkward; Ulquiorra seemed to be acting the same as usual.
Ichigo stood up and went to wash his mug and the plate that he had deposited in the sink earlier. He was done with the washing-up and was wiping his hands with a towel when he heard the basement door open again. He walked to the kitchen door to see what Ulquiorra was up to. His brow rose in surprise at the sight.
“What’s that?” Ichigo pointed at the thing Ulquiorra was carrying.
Ulquiorra looked at the peculiar object in his hands. “It’s a weapon.”
“I can see that,” Ichigo agreed, still pointing. It looked like a random log with a sickle attached to it. “Why do you have it?” he asked, hanging the towel back on the rack. He walked into the corridor to take a better look at the weapon.
“I made it.”
Not sure whether Ulquiorra was just stating a fact or being proud of it, Ichigo gave an appreciative nod. “Not bad at all,” he complimented the crude attempt. “But why?” Now there was something strange on Ulquiorra’s face – was he embarrassed? Intrigued, Ichigo waited.
“They disappear.”
“What disappears?”
“Hollows. I can’t use my Zanpakuto anymore.”
Ichigo stared at him. “Oh,” he finally said. “Ooooh,” he said again, his face stretching into an uncontrollable grin. “Oooh,” he repeated, laughing.
Ulquiorra glared at him.
“That’s hilarious,” Ichigo told him, still giggling.
“It’s not,” Ulquiorra denied. “It’s annoying.”
“So if you found a wandering Plus, you could send it to Soul Society?” Ichigo burst out laughing again. “You’re like a common Shinigami now.”
“I’m not a Shinigami,” Ulquiorra spat. Not intending to put up with the red-head’s foolishness, he turned around and marched down the hallway to the door leading outside. He passed straight through it.
Grinning, Ichigo watched him go. His grin faded gradually. These changes meant that Ulquiorra had to rethink how he used his Zanpakuto. Was he even able to change his form? Was his fighting technique still that of an Arrancar or already that of a Shinigami? Or maybe he was able to use both? Ichigo wondered if Ulquiorra had tried to find out. They had to pay a visit to Urahara Shop and its training grounds.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Suppressing his reiatsu, Kisuke snuck through the Kurosakis’ garden until he reached the kitchen window and peeked inside. Just as Ichigo had told him a few days ago, Ulquiorra was cleaning up the kitchen – he was currently washing the dishes. Trying to hold in his laughter, the former captain wondered if Ichigo would agree to lend him this fine sample of a housekeeper for a few days to help Ururu out.
Silently, Kisuke opened the front door and snuck inside. Ichigo and his sisters were out while Isshin was inside the clinic. Undetected, Kisuke passed the corridor and reached the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said, entering.
To his credit, Ulquiorra didn’t seem surprised or ashamed. He turned his head and nodded in greeting.
“Bluh…blah… Bluh…Blarghh!”
Kisuke’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Ulquiorra hadn’t opened his mouth, so it was not him making these sounds.
“Bluh… Blaargh… Help!”
From Ulquiorra’s face, Kisuke’s eyes slid down to the froth-filled sink and then to Ulquiorra’s hands. He was washing dishes with Kon.
“Blargh… Bluh… just stand… Help! Blugh… Blahrgh!”
Now Ulquiorra was washing Karin’s favorite bowl and the plushy bear disappeared into the sink again, his voice drowned out by water and froth.
Kisuke approached Ulquiorra. “What did he do now?”
Ulquiorra shrugged and gave a good scrub to a stain on the bowl with Kon’s head.
“Blargh! Nooo! Garbh.. Blugh…blugh!”
The former captain leaned against the sideboard. “I understand that he can be really annoying and noisy, but this is too much,” he said.
“I’ve no interest in that woman,” Ulquiorra said.
Thinking, Kisuke looked at the dirty, frothy water in the sink. Kon had probably been jealous and confronted Ulquiorra about Orihime. The Modified Soul was barking up the wrong tree, though. Ulquiorra really had no interest in Orihime. Kisuke knew for a fact that he was much more interested in Ichigo.
“Still,” Kisuke said, “that’s enough. Let go of him.”
Ulquiorra turned to stare at him with his emerald eyes. “And if I don’t?”
“Ermm…” Kisuke drawled, not wishing to start a conflict leading to a fight.
“It said that you’re useless,” Ulquiorra said suddenly.
“Huh? Who said that? Kon?”
“Yes, it said you’re as useless as last year’s snow.”
“He said that?” Kisuke asked. “Did you?”
A few guilty bubbles rose from the sink indicating that maybe Kon had or hadn’t and that many things might have been said in the heat of the argument.
“Useless,” Ulquiorra repeated, grinning. Now he was washing a pot. “Maybe you are. But I’m not complaining.”
Kisuke pushed himself off the sideboard. Ulquiorra was probably referring to the fact that, as a Shinigami, he should have killed him instead of having helped him recover. Kisuke snorted.
“There’s another dirty cup on the coffee table,” he said before leaving the kitchen.
“Mhm,” Ulquiorra hummed in thanks.
“Blargh! Blargh!” Kon protested.
“Shut up,” Ulquiorra told him. “Why are you so worried? I will give you a good rinse in the washing-machine later. I just have to figure out how to start it.”
“Blargh! Blargh!”
Not listening, Ulquiorra continued washing. He was thinking. Lately, Urahara was an often guest to the eldest Kurosaki. Something was up.

ooOoOoOo
“Thanks for letting us use the training grounds,” Ichigo was saying to Kisuke. He, Ulquiorra and the former captain were under Urahara Shop, standing in the seemingly vast desert with painted-on sky.
“Don’t mention it,” Kisuke said, walking a little further away to sit at a boulder; it was going to be a long day.
“So I can blow up anything here and it will hold?” Ulquiorra asked.
“Well, it survived Ichigo; it should survive you as well,” the former captain confirmed. “Just don’t aim at the same place repeatedly.”
“So what’s the plan?” Ichigo asked Kisuke, seating himself next to him. Due to security measures, the red-head was in his Shinigami form, having left Kon to look after his body at home.
Kisuke gave him a look. “I thought you were the one with the plan. You were the one who asked to use the training grounds,” he pointed out.
They watched Ulquiorra walk further into the training grounds. “Well,” Ichigo said, “I suppose we just have to find out his current abilities first.”
The former captain nodded. He doubted Ulquiorra knew his own abilities. There was just no way of knowing without trying. The problem was that the transpired changes may not be final.
A common, distorted sound echoed and a green Cero turned a huge boulder to cinders. A swish of air brought a cloud of dust into Ichigo’s eyes while Kisuke covered his face with his fan. Ichigo coughed and rubbed his eyes.
“Okay, so he can still use his Cero,” Ichigo concluded, his throat sore and eyes red. “And it’s as effective as ever.”
Kisuke shook the dust off his fan and lowered it to his lap. He had no doubts that Ulquiorra was still able to use his Cero. He had no doubts that the man was also able to use the rest of his common set of forms and attacks. He was more interested in Ulquiorra’s Zanpakuto, which, obviously, had changed.
“Ah... Eh!” Ichigo muttered insensibly when Ulquiorra released his Resurrection form. The sudden pressure of a hostile reiatsu nearly made him summon his own in response. The need was purely instinctual since Ulquiorra now felt mostly like a Hollow. Kisuke, on the other hand, had not even reacted. He was more interested in the green rain phenomenon that suddenly started falling down onto the sand.
“Just look at those wings,” he told Ichigo after a few moments. He grinned. “He looks like Batman, only with better hair.”
Ichigo rolled his eyes. Ulquiorra’s Resurrection form was slightly different from what he remembered – there were no horns, his body was skinnier and without the Hollow hole, but everything else seemed to be the same. It felt confusing to have Ulquiorra transform without a Hollow mask. Ichigo didn’t quite understand how it was possible.
“Spectacular,” Kisuke said when nearly the entire training ground suddenly turned green at Cero Obscure. The ground shook and clumps of wet sand rose into the air. Ulquiorra made an abrupt motion with his hand, sending it away from himself. Ichigo summoned some of his reiatsu as well before it could hit him in the face.
Ulquiorra was getting ready for the Second Stage, and Ichigo stood up, releasing his Bankai form. “I advise you do the same,” he told Kisuke. “It’s a lot of reiatsu to handle.”
“Yes, I can see that,” the former captain agreed, releasing his Bankai as well; he was certain that he would need to.
Unmoving, taking his time, Ulquiorra checked his senses, making sure his body responded as he remembered. His mask didn’t exist anymore and neither did any variations of it. This, actually, made Ulquiorra more vulnerable. Now he had to protect his chest with the same vigor as his head.
It seemed that Ulquiorra decided that everything was alright and his head turned to Ichigo.
“Uh-oh,” the red-head said when the yellow eyes concentrated on him. “He wants to play.” He watched Ulquiorra bring his hands together and slowly draw them back in opposite directions, forming a green, double-edged spear.
“Are you sure?” Kisuke asked hesitantly when Ichigo brushed a hand over his face, donning his Hollow mask. Actually, Kisuke wanted nothing more than to observe Ulquiorra in action and see what he was capable of, but it did seem risky.
“It’s fine, we’ll just spar for a bit,” Ichigo told him. He flitted from one boulder to another to land in front of Ulquiorra.
“You are not going to fight me like this, are you?” Ulquiorra asked, amused. The red-head’s Bankai did seem different from the last time he had seen him, but the amount of reiatsu was about the same.
“Yes, I am,” Ichigo nodded stubbornly. “I’ve learned a few new tricks.”
Ulquiorra’s tail made a lazy swish, showing that he wasn’t very interested in those tricks.
“You seriously don’t think that I would just…” Ichigo trailed off. Ulquiorra obviously did and even looked slightly disappointed. “Are you serious?” Ichigo blinked in disbelief; he suddenly realized he simply wasn’t able to understand how Ulquiorra’s mind worked. “Do you want to die again? I can’t control that form. I can’t even… can’t even…” he just shook his head, not finishing. “That’s out of the question!”
“Is it now?” Ulquiorra said. “Well, surprise me with your new tricks, then.”
Ichigo jumped back to avoid being skewered by the spear. Ulquiorra swung it at the red-head again and he deflected it sideways, kicking out. Ulquiorra stumbled backwards.
“I forgot that you’re good with your feet. Must be my emotions acting up again,” he said, grinning.
“I told you to let it go already,” Ichigo grunted out, defending himself from another attack.
Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow and Ichigo understood that he was going to keep mentioning it until he was no longer reminded of when he had nearly eaten Ichigo’s soul. That was some sort of revenge. Amused, Ichigo laughed.
They had no time to chat, though. The spar was taking all of their concentration. Ichigo quickly had to admit that he himself had forgotten how difficult it had been to fight Ulquiorra. Even though he was in a much better shape now, stronger, more experienced, Ulquiorra still had an advantage over him.
The spear connected with Ichigo’s Zanpakuto, flooding him with short-lived relief. Ulquiorra had put so much strength behind it that it sent Ichigo flying back into a boulder. The other man was instantly there, flash-stepping in front of Ichigo and grabbing his sword hand while, dazed, Ichigo tried to get his bearings. He forced the red-head’s hand to his side, twisting his wrist painfully, making Ichigo yelp and drop his Zanpakuto. He tried to hit Ulquiorra with his free hand but it was suddenly seized as well.
Wondering where his spear had gone, Ichigo stared at him, panting. The red-head could feel the excitement rush through him at their proximity. The Hollow was restless inside him. It had met a challenge, a tease, and it wanted to play as well. Ichigo had only too well an idea of what kind of games it wanted to play. It could not be let out, he could not forget himself.
Ulquiorra was smirking at the red-head, obviously understanding what was going on inside him. “You’re hard,” he pointed out, pressing his hips against Ichigo’s.
“So are you,” Ichigo retorted and heard the Hollow inside him laugh maniacally. He was an idiot. Through the clumps and tufts of fur covering Ulquiorra’s midsection, he could feel him poking his thigh. “Let go of me.”
Ulquiorra chuckled. “You’re being awfully demanding again.”
“I can be much worse than demanding!” Ichigo spat.
“Oh? So maybe you’ll finally show me those new tricks of yours? Because so far I’ve seen nothing of interest.”
With an enraged grunt, Ichigo mustered up the last of his strength and shoved Ulquiorra aside, kneeing him in the midsection. He had been aiming a bit lower, but Ulquiorra had managed to shift to the side a little. He glared at Ichigo but his anger was met by the red-head’s fist, which sent him backwards a few meters.
“You will regret this,” Ulquiorra muttered.
“We’ll see,” Ichigo growled, grabbing his Zanpakuto from the ground and jumping towards the other man at once.
Alarmed, Kisuke watched the fight. Ichigo was tired already, his Hollow mask disappearing, but Ulquiorra was still pushing him. Only now did Kisuke understand that Ichigo had been dead-serious when he had said that Ulquiorra would not have a problem dealing with Mayuri.
During the entire spar, Ulquiorra hadn’t used his Cero, while Ichigo avoided using Getsuga Tensho. That was some kind of a mutual agreement between the two. Maybe they weren’t certain the training grounds would hold. Kisuke wasn’t so certain it would either.
Ichigo was being driven backwards, defensive now, concentrating only on avoiding being hit. And then the red-head stumbled on a rock and lost his balance, and Ulquiorra’s spear, which was about to hit Ichigo’s shoulder, hit his arm instead. Blood spurted up and his Hollow mask disappeared.
Kisuke was already there, between the two, brandishing Benihime at Ulquiorra, pushing him away from the red-head. He realized at once that he needn’t have interfered but it was too late now. Both Ichigo and Ulquiorra were giving him surprised looks. At the sight of blood, Ulquiorra had lowered his spear but now raised it again.
“You sure you can handle it, Captain?” he muttered threateningly.
Ichigo grabbed the spear, pressing it to the ground and, cursing, let go since it burnt his hand. “It’s alright, it’s just a shallow cut,” he said, gasping for air. “It’s my fault – I tripped. How about we all power down?”
“Him first,” Ulquiorra said, motioning his head to Kisuke.
TBC
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The Heart in My Hand