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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
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.
The Heart in My Hand
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Ash
Part 16
“That’s it,” Kisuke said, cutting off the excess of the bandage that he had just wrapped over Ichigo’s left arm. The wound on his bicep wasn’t deep, but it was painful, and would hinder his movements for some time. It was a miracle that Ichigo had managed to avoid more serious injuries. Any further sparring with Ulquiorra was out of the question.
“Thanks,” the red-head said, reaching for his mug of tea with his other hand. He grunted when his palm reminded him that he had burnt himself on the spear. Ichigo looked at his hand, but wasn’t able to see any outward signs of the burn. He had already lost his Hollow mask when he had touched the spear. It was amazing what a huge difference it made while handling others’ reiatsu.
They were in Kisuke’s guest room. Ulquiorra was sitting at the table next to Ichigo, a mug of tea in front of him as well. It was quiet in the room. Since their return from the training grounds, they had all felt uncomfortable. Ulquiorra lifted his mug to take a sip. He was wondering whether asking both men to fight him was worth consideration. Fighting Ichigo alone did not appear to be much of a challenge while fighting both of them at once would probably be too much to handle.
“It should heal nicely in several days,” the former captain told them after a few minutes to break the silence. “Or you can ask Orihime to heal it.”
Ichigo nodded. “Yeah, I will; she’s coming to visit us today.”
Kisuke finished storing the medical supplies he had pulled out back into the medical kit. He closed it, lowered it to the ground, and pushed it under the table. The former captain liked to store things under his tables. If not for Ururu, no one would be able to put their feet under them. Medical kits, dirty plates, half-eaten apples, Kisuke’s socks, houseplants, his laptop, Yoruichi’s underwear, everything found their way under the tables.
Ichigo cast a look at the room. There was a layer of documents covering the ground, and some half-built mechanical monstrosity at the door. All these signs of neglect showed that Yoruichi hadn’t visited in a while.
The men started when Ulquiorra’s phone rang suddenly, breaching the silence. Ichigo and Kisuke watched him answer it.
“Yes?”
“What time, then?”
Ulquiorra removed the phone from his ear to check the time then pressed it back to his ear.
“Yes, no problem,” he said and hung up.
“Who was that?” Kisuke asked.
“Karin,” Ulquiorra answered. “She said that they had some event at school, so her football practice and other activities were cancelled. I’ll have to go pick them up in a bit.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ichigo said.
“So it seems that’s all for today,” Kisuke summed up regretfully.
Ichigo gave him a look. His injury aside, he knew the former captain had something else in mind. Yet, he’d had enough of stress for today. The red-head took his tea to wash down his grimace. Ulquiorra had completely recovered. His body weight had not quite returned to normal yet, but it didn’t seem to influence his combat abilities. The reality of the inevitable visit to Mayuri’s laboratory hung over Ichigo’s head like the sword of Damocles. He was bad at planning and scheming, his forte was straightforward action. He would have to put his trust in Ulquiorra concerning this matter.
“Can’t you summon your mask during a fight?” Ichigo asked, lowering his mug. He straightened his fingers and soothed his stinging palm.
Ulquiorra gave him a confused look. “Mask? What do you mean?”
“Well, if you’re more like a Visored than an Arrancar now,” Ichigo said, “can’t you summon your Hollow mask like Visoreds do?” He reached for his mug again to finish his tea. “It should add to your power even more.”
The room was quiet for some time, then Ulquiorra turned his head to Kisuke, asking him to explain what Ichigo was talking about.
The former captain shook his head. “That’s not how it works, Ichigo. He’s not a Visored. Far from it. I only gave that example to… Well, that’s just the closest comparison there is.” He shrugged. “While in those forms, he’s already fully using his Hollow heritage, he doesn’t need the Hollow mask. Besides, the mask doesn’t exist anymore. He can’t summon it even if he wants to.” Kisuke tapped the side of his mug. “Probably,” he added suddenly to Ichigo’s frustration. “We’ll see after he achieves Bankai.”
“My what?”
“His what?” Ichigo gasped out, wide-eyed, tea running down his nostrils. He was suddenly seized by a coughing fit.
Amused, Kisuke thumped Ichigo’s back a few times to help him recover. While doing so, he grinned at Ulquiorra. “I know that you’ve already considered this. Your Zanpakuto has become nearly identical to a Shinigami’s, and your reiatsu has become similar to a Shinigami’s. It’s obvious.”
Even if Ichigo felt like he was about to drown in tea, he shook his head viciously. “B-But! B-Bankai?!”
“That doesn’t mean I want to…” Ulquiorra started but was silenced by Kisuke’s knowing grin. He grunted, not finishing his sentence. “Utter drivel.”
The former captain chuckled. Ulquiorra might be reluctant to reach into his Shinigami nature but Kisuke had no doubts that he would. Ulquiorra was a very, very curious creature.
“It’s going to be ages until he achieves Bankai,” Ichigo said, wiping at his nose with his sleeve. He had mostly recovered, but his nose still hurt. He felt relieved that the inevitability of facing Mayuri, and possibly the rest of the Shinigami, had been postponed.
Kisuke was of different opinion, but didn’t voice his thoughts. Years ago, when he had decided to train Ichigo, the red-head had been a confused teenager with no experience. He didn’t understand who he was, the power he had, or how to use it. Ulquiorra, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. He was what he was and he had no problem with himself whether he was an Arrancar or Hollow or Shinigami or something else entirely. He may not like it, but he accepted it and had centuries of experience with reiatsu on his shoulders.
- - -
“First, you’ll need to learn its name,” Ichigo told Ulquiorra while they were on their way to the school to pick up his sisters. They were nearly there and, since they had arrived at the area a little too early, were now strolling over the streets at a leisure pace.
“A name?” Ulquiorra gave the green Zanpakuto hanging at his side a dubious look. He had noticed that the Shinigami indeed had names for their Zanpakutos, but it seemed quite absurd. It made sense to give names for various attacks, but the point of naming a Zanpakuto escaped him. “Why do I need to give it a name?” he grunted, frowning. “It’s a katana, it’s not like anyone is going to talk to it.”
Ichigo chuckled at the discontentment on the older man’s face. “It’s not like that. Yours has already got a name, you just don’t know it yet. It also has a personality and you might have to make some kind of a deal with it to be able to use Bankai. That’s just how it is. Knowing their names is the only way to achieve Shikai and then Bankai.”
“Yours is Zangetsu, right?”
Ichigo nodded. “Yeah.”
It was a flashy name and Ulquiorra frowned again. His Zanpakuto had better come up with something more straightforward and meaningful. It was a killing tool, not a beauty contestant.
“You should definitely try achieving Bankai,” Ichigo encouraged. He was very curious. If this was really possible now, he wanted to see it.
“Tomorrow morning?” Ulquiorra offered.
“Ermm… I have lectures till five,” Ichigo said uncertainly, taken aback by such sudden development. “But you can go to the training grounds earlier on your own. I’m sure Kisuke will help you out.”
“I’d rather just wait until you return.”
Ichigo shrugged and winced painfully. The red-head understood the reservations that Ulquiorra had towards Kisuke, but he doubted he would make a better teacher than the former captain. The red-head didn’t have much experience and wasn’t certain if discovering a Zanpakuto’s name worked the same for everyone. Kisuke had taught him the basics, but there was probably no universal method. From the corner of his eye, Ichigo noticed Ulquiorra staring at his arm.
“It’s fine, stop staring at it or it’ll get infected.”
Ulquiorra humpfed and averted his eyes. That was probably the closest Ichigo was going to get to an apology. Not that it had been Ulquiorra’s fault.
They approached the school and saw Yuzu and Karin waiting at the main entrance. The girls noticed them and started walking towards the gate.
“What happened to your arm?” Yuzu asked at the sight of the bandages on Ichigo.
“I broke him,” Ulquiorra stated.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m a toy,” Ichigo protested. He turned to his sisters. “We’ve just been sparring.”
“I bet you’re his favorite toy,” Karin mumbled, ducking her head as she passed the gate. Children were still leaving the school and she didn’t want them to think she was talking to herself. She grinned at Ichigo, who gave her a reproachful look.
They were nearly at the bus stop when Ichigo stopped walking. There was something going on with his body, but he couldn’t understand what it was. His arm was tingling as if it had gone numb, and he tried to move it. He rolled his shoulder and waved his arm about. It didn’t hurt anymore. The skin on his palm wasn’t painful either.
“What are you doing?”
Ichigo didn’t know. He gave his companions a confused look then asked Karin to help unwrap the bandages. The wound had disappeared.
“Orihime must have healed your body,” Karin concluded, holding out the bandages to Ichigo. She looked at her watch. “Yeah, she must already be at home with Kon.”
When they were nearly home, Ichigo started wondering whether a serious car accident had happened or if there was a mass cold in town. He could sense a lot of people in the house; it had been a long time ago since his father had so many patients.
When they approached the house, though, Ichigo could tell that, unless his dad had decided to arrange a group therapy session in their living room with Kon as a counselor, those were not patients.
Inside the house, Ichigo’s sisters were met with loud welcomes. Ichigo stared at Kon, who was surrounded by his groupmates from university. Timothy, Akio, Hisako, and Fumiko were all chatting merrily. Orihime was also there, which was for the best since her ample accessories kept the guys’ attention away from how silly and unusual Ichigo was acting.
Nori was sitting under the sofa, stressed out by all the noisy visitors. It was obvious that no amount of bribery or sweet talking had worked to lure her out. When Karin and Yuzu entered the living room, the cat scurried from under the sofa towards her bowl. For a moment, Nori became the main attraction.
Ichigo motioned for Kon to come out of the kitchen. He wanted his body back and the faster, the better. Kon was also wearing bandages on his arm, but Ichigo knew those were only for show.
“What’s with all the people?” the red-head asked while they were climbing to the second floor.
“Ehh…” Kon hummed guiltily. “As soon as you had left, Timothy phoned and asked me if they could come and see Nori. And then Orihime stopped by.”
“You should have told him I was busy or something.”
“I did,” Kon said. Then he leaned to Ichigo conspiratorially. “Then he told me he would burn me a DVD of his favorite porn!” he whispered. “I just couldn’t refuse!”
“Ugh,” Ichigo groaned, shuddering at Kon’s overflowing enthusiasm. “What the hell do you think of doing to my body?! That’s disgusting!”
There was a sudden bout of laughter and Ichigo’s head snapped to stare menacingly at Ulquiorra, who was climbing the stairs behind them. Ulquiorra turned away with a snigger. Ichigo felt even more annoyed with Kon since he knew very well what Ulquiorra was thinking. He really had to stop lending Kon his body or, at least, had to create a set of unbreakable rules.
They filed into Ichigo’s room and Ichigo switched with Kon, who returned into the plush bear. Ichigo patted his arm through the bandages, testing. As suspected, the bandages were only decoration. His forehead was also free of the bluish bump. Orihime was getting stronger – just a while ago she had not been able to heal the body and soul simultaneously. Ichigo didn’t think that there was anyone else who was powerful enough to do that.
At the sight of Ichigo rubbing his arm absentmindedly, Kon’s buttony eyes sparkled with mirth.
“You should’ve seen how everyone freaked out when blood spurted up!”
Ichigo’s mouth opened in horror. “Everyone saw that?”
“Oh, yes,” Kon confirmed, spreading his plush paws apart enthusiastically.
“And? What did you do?” Ichigo asked, fretting. “What happened?” An arm starting to bleed without any reason had to cause quite some panic.
“Well, nothing? Orihime quickly took care of it in the bathroom and I said I’d broken a vase and cut myself a few minutes before they arrived and that the wound reopened.”
“A vase?” Ichigo snorted. “How can you cut your upper arm on that? They’ll think I’m a klutz!”
Kon waved off his worries. “It’s fine, we had a good laugh.”
“What’s so funny about a bleeding arm? I must have looked like a total idiot! You’ve completely ruined my image!”
Ichigo felt a hard stare and turned to meet Ulquiorra’s eyes. It was obvious that the man hadn’t been aware of his precious image.
“What are you supposed to be?” Ulquiorra asked as if on cue.
“Cool! I’m supposed to be cool!” Ichigo said, grabbing a comb from the bedside cabinet. “And he’s making me look like a simpleton.” Squatting down, he took a look at himself in the mirror hanging over the bedside cabinet. It hadn’t been touched since the beginning of high school and now hung too low. Ichigo just couldn’t get around to driving a new screw into a wall to raise it higher; he wasn’t good at these kinds of things.
Ulquiorra decided not to comment on this, in his opinion, silly and needlessly complicated issue. He watched Ichigo comb his red hair.
“So what have you been talking about so far?” Ichigo asked the bear.
“Cats,” Kon supplied helpfully. “Ah, yes. We’ve also decided to go to karaoke tomorrow after lectures.”
Ichigo groaned. “Again?” He put the comb back and turned around.
“I thought you liked karaoke?” Kon asked.
“I do, but we,” Ichigo motioned to himself and Ulquiorra, “agreed to go to Kisuke’s training grounds.”
Kon pumped his paw into the air victoriously. “You can go there, and I’ll go to karaoke. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your body has a good time.”
Ichigo shook his head. Without a word, he left the two in his room and went downstairs. He had to think about how to balance tomorrow’s activities. He entered the kitchen and, smiling brightly, joined his friends.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere in Ichigo’s room had cooled off considerably and silence heavy like lead engulfed it. Kon and Ulquiorra stared at each other for some time then, whistling nervously, Kon retreated to the opposite end of the room.
“So how did it go at Urahara’s?” Kon asked. His sociable personality reacted very sensitively to any kind of silence. He felt threatened by it.
“It was alright,” Ulquiorra said. He approached the bedside cabinet and, curious, picked up the comb. He didn’t understand the “cool image” business, but it was obvious Ichigo was trying to show off to someone.
“Is there someone Ichigo is trying to impress?” Ulquiorra asked. He drew the comb through his hair. The teeth rained to the floor. “It broke,” he concluded. He pulled what was left of the comb out of his hair and put it back onto the bedside cabinet. What a useless thing.
It was suspiciously quiet and Ulquiorra turned to the plush bear. Kon’s snout had a look of epiphany that turned to horror. Slowly, a smirk spread over Ulquiorra’s face. It seemed like the Modified Soul had finally figured it out.
- - -
Ichigo woke up with a gasp. Burning green dots appeared before him and he shrank back to the end of his bed and put his arms up in front of him in defense. He stared at the green dots until he realized what they were. Still disoriented, Ichigo lowered his arms, let out the breath he had been holding, and continued breathing in quick, short gasps.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ulquiorra asked.
Ichigo rubbed his forehead. It was sticky with sweat. “I think I had a nightmare,” he answered, surprised; nightmares were rare, especially such realistic ones.
There was a knock at the door and someone’s head popped in. Light flooded the room. Karin’s hand on the switch, she looked at her brother, noting Ulquiorra next to the bed.
“Are you alright?”
Ichigo realized that he must have shouted in his sleep or just before waking up. He blinked against the light and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was only a nightmare.” Karin gave him a mistrustful look and Ichigo forced a smile. “Just a nightmare,” he reassured her.
Karin closed the door. Ichigo wanted to call her back to turn off the light, but maybe it was alright that she hadn’t. With a sigh, he lowered his head onto his knees. It was nice to feel the cool and soft fabric of the duvet.
“So what did you dream about?”
Ichigo hummed quietly. The memory of the dream had mostly faded already and was dissipating further. He could, however, remember Byakuya hot on his heels, about to cut him down. He could also remember the claustrophobic cells in Mayuri’s laboratory. He had been locked in one, Mayuri about to do something to him. And he had seen clones looking just like Ulquiorra. All in all, he remembered too much for his comfort.
“Have you seen more clones besides you?” Ichigo asked. He felt stupid for not having asked earlier.
Ulquiorra nodded. He had mostly been unconscious but, from time to time, he would see a body or two similar to his. Sometimes, those were just formless masses, but he could tell instinctively that they were connected.
“Would they help us out if we needed them?”
Ulquiorra shrugged. “I don’t know. It is possible that they will fight us. However, it is more likely they will just be unconscious or sleeping.”
Ichigo was silent for a moment, thinking. Clones as strong as Ulquiorra would be impossible to fight if they were at their full strength; he wasn’t even able to win against one specimen. “What will you do with them if they’re unconscious?” Ichigo asked him.
“That depends on their shape and condition.”
Ichigo ruffled his hair nervously. He could tell what Ulquiorra meant. If they were non-threatening, Ulquiorra would not bother with them. If he sensed hostility, he would kill. Then there was the possibility of encountering half-formed hybrids, half-evolved blobs. Ichigo couldn’t fathom what they would do with those.
- - -
Ichigo was late. He opened the door to the lecture hall quietly and snuck inside. Timothy waved and motioned Ichigo to sit next to him, but was ignored. Hunching his shoulders, the red-head made his way to the very end of the hall and sat down. He took his notebook and pen out and started following the lecture. After about ten minutes, he started to nod off.
Yawning, Ichigo rubbed his eyes. He tried to concentrate again, but several minutes later, he put his head onto his notebook and closed his eyes, wondering why he had even bothered coming.
Ichigo woke up to someone patting him on the shoulder. His eyes flew open and he straightened up in his chair, making Timothy start.
“Huh, didn’t sleep well last night?”
Ichigo yawned loudly. He looked around – the lecture was already over, everyone chattering, getting ready for the next one; it was going to take place in the same room. Ichigo nodded. After that nightmare, he and Ulquiorra had talked for a while. Later, when he had tried to sleep again, he had been kept awake by his restless mind until four.
“Any news about Kana?”
Ichigo shrugged and shook his head. Kana hadn’t returned yet. When Kon had rushed out of the karaoke booth with Kana in his arms, his groupmates had believed that he had taken her to the hospital. Naturally, he had encouraged this presumption and, in case they decided to visit her, also spewed some nonsense about Kana being taken away from the hospital by her relatives.
Ichigo didn’t know whether she had revealed more information. If she had, however, he probably would have been told; Rukia had been paying him regular visits for the last two weeks and hadn’t mentioned anything. Kana was going to return from Soul Society, but she would never be able to wield her Fullbringer powers again. Ichigo doubted he would see her again, since her being a student at the university had only been pretense.
“…evening…so excited! …tomorrow. Right?”
Sleepily, Ichigo blinked at Timothy who was giving him a questioning look. “What?”
Timothy glared at him. “I said I’m excited about Freeway Clouds’ live concert tomorrow.”
“Huh? What do they play?”
Timothy turned to Akio, who had just approached them. “I think Ichigo’s lost his mind,” he complained.
“What? Why?” Akio asked, leaning against the red-head’s desk.
Ichigo watched them converse and yawned again. So sleepy. He couldn’t even care about the precious image he had carefully built up. Oh well, most of it had already been ruined.
“Okay,” Akio patted Ichigo on his head comfortingly. “Make sure you get some rest now. We still got karaoke in the afternoon.”
“Oh, that,” Ichigo said, raising his head. “I can’t go. I’ve got an appointment.”
“Bullshit,” Timothy declared authoritatively. “You’re going to karaoke – I’m in dire need of support there.”
Ichigo groaned. “Why don’t you just start dating her?”
“I’m trying to!”
“Just ask her out.”
“I have! That’s why we’re going to karaoke!”
Ichigo’s head fell to the desk with a soft thump. “Fine.”
Akio patted Ichigo’s hair sympathetically again. “He’s trying, he really is.”
Ichigo felt rather than saw something slip inside his bag; he was always aware of his bag since it was where he usually kept Kon and his Shinigami Badge.
“What’s that?” the red-head asked, his hand diving into the bag after the peculiar object. He blindly groped around the books and a few notepads. The object appeared to be tightly lodged in Kon’s plushy paws. After some quiet struggle, Ichigo managed to tear it out of the bear’s grip and lifted it out of the bag to take a look. It was a CD, but he had already recognized the shape before pulling it out.
“What’s this?” Ichigo repeated, turning the compact disc around.
“That’s yesterday’s deal,” Timothy told him.
“Huh?” Then Ichigo realized. “Oh, right. Thanks, I completely forgot.”
“Yeah, you’ve been a total scatterbrain lately. Maybe you need to get yourself checked out?” Timothy suggested.
“I’ll do that,” Ichigo agreed easily, slipping the compact disc back into his bag. Kon’s paws wrapped around his prized CD immediately. The red-head felt the urge to smack him around a few times, but, afraid that the bear would start making noise, squashed down the need.
- - -
Coming to karaoke hadn’t been a good idea. Ichigo rubbed at his eyes, yawned, and took a sip of his milkshake. He was the third wheel. Timothy and Fumiko were so engaged in conversation that Timothy’s glasses were about to steam up. Akio and Hisako, on the other hand, were shyly watching each other over their glasses of juice and seemingly communicating with their thoughts and eyes alone. Ichigo felt the urge to facepalm. It was a mystery as to why Timothy and Akio had insisted that he come with them. Maybe they pitied him and were trying to be considerate? It turned out to be the opposite, though. He preferred to be anywhere but here.
“Psst! Psst!”
Ichigo turned to his bag next to him. One of Kon’s buttony eyes was looking at him pleadingly from the unzipped gap in the bag. Ichigo raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Let’s go home,” Kon begged quietly.
Ichigo only had too clear an idea of why the Modified Soul wanted to go home and shook his head stubbornly; he’d rather spend more time sitting here like an idiot than let Kon watch that porn.
Bored out of his mind, the red-head mixed his milkshake with the straw haphazardly and took a sip. Even the milkshake tasted plain next to these lovebirds. It wasn’t their fault – they did try to include him in their conversations, but always ended up absorbed in each other. It was as much annoying as amusing.
Ichigo nearly choked on his drink when he suddenly saw Ulquiorra pass the wall near Akio. The man took in his surroundings, spotted Ichigo and pulled his phone out. Pointing at the screen, he gave Ichigo a discontent look.
“You are late.”
TBC
- 15
- 16
- 17
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The Heart in My Hand