Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Happy Ending	By : Ardespuffy Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Hitsugaya/Ichigo Views: 2079 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Happy Ending
- 2-Teaser
- 3-One
- 4-Two
- 5-Three
- 6-Four
- 7-Five
- 8-Six
- 9-Seven
- 10-Eight
- 11-Nine
- 12-First
- 13-Second
- 14-Third
- 15-Fourth
- 16-Fifth
- 17-Sixth
- 18-Seventh
- 19-Eighth
- 20-Ninth
- 21-Tenth
- 22-Eleventh
- 23-Twelfth
- 19
- 20
- 21
.

When Goat Face closed the clinic to chase his childish dream of diving into the world of public service, Ichigo blamed it on a particularly unnerving yet overall ordinary mid-life crisis. Later on, when Kurosaki senior demanded his son leave the campus to move into their old, ludicrously big family manor, claiming that "rule #1 for a clubtender, own a house fit to party in!", Ichigo went along with his old man's eccentricities for the sake of not troubling him when he was evidently nearing a mental breakdown.
But now, now that living all alone in that huge empty mansion is starting to take the toll, and his whole world has narrowed to the display of his mobile phone, Ichigo fears there might be some hereditary taints his father has kept from him for his own devious amusement. No way I'd ever become the man he wants me to be out of my sheer will. No way I'd be the same as him – maybe it's a virus, yeah, an infection, some kind of contagious shit affecting the males of our family in their young age and only…
"Oi, Ichigo. Get a fucking move on already."
Renji is sprawled legs and arms wide on the floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling. That he'd use his first name instead of the usual epithet is a testament to how uncommonly serious he is, and the ginger curls his fists, his body language speaking of hardness and rebuffing. "Nothing good must be brewing for you to invite me over." The red-haired policeman scoffs at the walls before rolling onto his side, facing Ichigo. "Is it what I think it is?"
Golden brown eyes flee the scene to turn sideways, focus themselves on the street down below, beyond the glass. Ichigo's fingers find the shutter wire and begin deftly toying with it, channelling the tension. "Hardly. Got more important stuff to think about."
Caught off guard by both his friend's words and the cracking of his voice, Renji sits up, head cocked to the side in a demonstration of undeterred concern. "More important than dumping Tatsuki and crawling beg for Midget's forgiveness? You're kidding me! Look, if you're making excuses again – "
"Shut up. You know nothing."
"I know what there is to know, alias you and Snow White were bloody made for each other and are only wasting it 'cause you're too dense to see what's good for you and too cowardly to try seize it."
"Dammit, would you just knock it off? I don't need a speaking pineapple on my shoulder telling me what's best – "
"Well, then you shouldn't drag me in if you don't want my help! How am I supposed to – ?"
Ichigo spins abruptly, his whole form shaking with pent-up fury. "What the fuck are you talking about? I never asked for – "
Renji leaps up as well, visibly boiling. "Cut the crap and take your fucking responsibilities for once! I've – hell, Rukia and Momo and I have – told you countless times before this is not just about the two of you, given that we're all both Midget's and your friends. You're giving everyone hell – if you can't tell as much by yourself, then I'll have to point it out. Your behaviour on holiday was revolting at best…"
"I can't – how the hell is that any of your business?"
"… and what's even worse, is making everyone miserable. Why won't you just accept that you'd be much better off together and quit feeling sorry for yourselves already?"
Ichigo has to grab the window sill and hold onto it tightly, lest his indignation have the best of him and shit eat the fan. "Are you just telling me this, or, what?, Momo is brainwashing him at their place as we speak? Is this some wicked set-up by means of which you're hoping to get us to do as you want?"
The affronted expression on Renji's face pisses him off even more than the man's self-righteous interfering. "What a disappointment you're turning out to be, mate. What a fucking giant let-down." The cop's right hand closes reflexively around the butt of his gun, half showing through his leather case. Ichigo is familiar enough with that instinctive move by now not to be freaked out – unlike back when that first started to happen, when Renji's every shift in posture would cause all his friends to get cold feet.
"Believe that it hurts me to say, but you're being an ungrateful baby about the whole thing. None of us is going to put up with your bullshit for much longer."
Ichigo's eyes slide shut on their own accord, giving away under the burden of Renji's threat.
"Plus, you're being monstrously unfair to Tatsuki as well. That poor girl took her chance when Inoue fucked off, and you've led her on ever since. Does she even know why is it that you broke up with Inoue in the first place? Did you tell her 'bout the dreams you kept having when Toshiro was sleeping here at yours? Those dreams haunting you to the point you begged me and taichou to let you stay at the HQ for the night – ring a bell, Berry-kun? You fucking made it my business then, so don't you dare cut me off now only 'cause you've got no use for my help anymore."
Shame, fear, regret slide up Ichigo's body and surface in the form of an angered flush, clashing viciously with his hair colour.
Renji perches himself on the back of the couch, gazing at his host through a curtain of rebel vermillion bangs. There's a darkness in his breath, a graveness to his speech that's making Ichigo's insides churn with emotions he doesn't have a name for. "I've always taken pride in my best pal, always rejoiced that such a bloody brilliant lad would even dream of considering me his peer. And it seems to me I've always relentlessly supported you, huh? Through your sexuality swings, career crisis, family breakups – everything. But, you know what the best part was? That you'd do just the same for me without ever being asked. That's what friendship's all about in the end, ne?" The policeman's eyes narrow to dark slits as his voice grows thicker, hands clenching the fabric with bruising force as the tall man bends over the sofa cushions. "Well, turns out I can't be friends with someone I have no respect for. Worse yet, someone with no respect for themselves nor the ones who love them."
Ichigo's knees buckle dangerously, which brings him to leave his spot by the balcony in favour of a large squashy armchair. Someway through their morning this has begun to feel less like common tongue-lashing and much more like a schism of sorts. The tension that's been eating at him for days now is heightening to its breaking point. It doesn't help one bit that the sodding mobile phone stays quiet and uncaring through it all.
"I know that's harsh of me, but if you can't go back to being the man I used to care for, then I have no interest in sticking around." Renji states with a tone of finality as he pushes himself upright, a stiffness to his movements that wasn't there before.
An ominous, face-splitting grin curves Ichigo's lips in an instant. It must make him look like one of those murderous maniacs from scary movies, if the tattooed man's horror-stricken face is anything to go by.
"If I said I'm going to be a dad, would that make me enough of a man in your eyes?"
The sight of Renji's jaw dropping is only mildly satisfying all things considered, but Ichigo will take what he's offered. "Come the fuck again?" The cop stutters, his mouth dry, eyes threatening to pop out of his skull.
One more longing glance at the inert cell phone as he sinks further into the comfy chair. Then the ginger's head falls, his chin clashing with the collarbone below in a dull thud. "Tatsuki's period is late. She's taking a pregnancy test as we speak."

The funny part is, his mobile does ring eventually. And it's a female voice that breaks into sobs at the other end of the line, although, as Ichigo is just about to learn, tears are shed for multiple reasons.
"I-Ichi… Ichi…"
"Rukia? That you? Calm down, I can't hear a thing."
"Ichigo… Renji, we're… he – "
The mention of his name alone sends chills down your spine. Lord knows you're not in the mood for more of the redhead's bullcrap, after the morning you spent listening to him verbally abusing you in ways that should be plain unconstitutional. A cantankerous sigh leaves your parted lips at the thought of yet another stupid stunt your friends might be plotting to pull, and your voice sounds downright venomous as you reply. "Whatever it is that asshole did, I don't wanna hear it. Had my fair share of Abarai's idiocy to last me a lifetime, thanks a lot."
"Ichigo, listen – "
"What, you two ganged up on me? Well go on ahead with your stupid plans, I give a shit."
There's a muffled noise in the receiver, like a low whine, then a buzz and breath hitching – the sounds of a phone being passed from one hand to another. "Kurosaki."
And your heart stops just like that. Because it's him.
"We're at the hospital, critical care ward. Abarai was ambushed by some criminal on his way back to the HQ. He got shot in the head."
It's all white noise after that, in your brain and out.

Fate is ferociously ironical, Ichigo keeps telling himself while rushing through the labyrinth of corridors that is E.R.. Not really telling himself though, since he hasn't been able to form a coherent thought since Rukia called; more like, he's stuck running in circles inside his mind much as he is around the goddamn hospital.
To help people. That's all he's ever, ever since Goat Face told him about his mother, asked for. Yet his friends keep getting hurt because of him, and he can't do a thing about it. He's failing them, one by one, as both a medic and a mate, and this is killing the man he's worked to be all his life.
Renji was right. He got lost.
"Ichigo! Over here!"
Thank god. The carrot-top spots a group of youths standing on the opposite side of the hallway, right outside the ICU, and moves to join them – though his legs feel inexplicably heavier with every step. Must have something to do with the look of open hostility on Momo's face, he realizes, and slows down subconsciously as he the gang comes within earshot.
"Renji was damn lucky to have found nii-san on the phone." Rukia is muttering almost to herself, head bowed, gaze glued to her folded arms. "If he had waited just one more minute to warn nii-san he was heading back, then no one would have known where to… pick him up." She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and shudders, goosebumps visibly breaking on her skin.
"Don't even think about that, darling." Momo slides an arm around the young Kuchiki's waist and gives her hip a reassuring squeeze. "Just be positive. It's going to be alright."
Ichigo draws in a lungful of chemicals-saturated air. The empty sense of abandon rising at his friends giving him the cold shoulder is almost as bad as the chilling dread nestled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Renji's state. "Anyone care to update me?" His choice of words may seem arrogant, but the tone is so tentative no one has the heart to snap at him.
"It's just as Hitsugaya-kun told you on the phone. Renji had just left your residence and rung the HQ to warn he was free of his appointments and up to take charge, when he was attacked. His aggressor – or aggressors, they have yet to be identified – must have caught him off guard to be able to drag him in an alley and…" Izuru's voice falters at this point, and Ichigo knows he's looking for the least crude way to put it. "… well, aim the gun at him." The blonde finishes timidly.
His choice of words reminds Ichigo of some detail he had not paid heed to until now. "What about Renji's own gun? I know for a fact he had it on when he came to see me this morning. Did they disarm him?"
To his mild surprise – and faint heartstroke – Toshiro steps right into his line of sight and answers, locking eyes. "No, he still had his weapon on when Kuchiki-taichou found him. Apparently they didn't leave him the time to react anyhow."
"That's not it."
As if on cue, none other than Kuchiki Byakuya materializes at the entrance of the intensive care ward, looking impressively solemn in his chief of police uniform.
"Nii-san!"
The long-haired man acknowledges his sister's call with a curt nod, then turns his focus back on the carrot-top. "Abarai was always a quick shot. Whatever the reason, he chose not to draw his gun." Thin, pale lips twitch ever so slightly in annoyance. "The idiot."
Ichigo can't help but mentally agreeing.
"Could it be…" Toshiro's brow furrows, and the uncertainty in his usually stoic voice catches Ichigo's attention. "… he knew his aggressor?"
"That would explain why Renji-kun refused to open the fire." Izuru observes, azure eyes seeking for a trace of approval on Byakuya's stern face.
"Mph."
"Are you guys quite done playing Cluedo?" Momo snarls abruptly, causing the boys to jump out of their skins. The arm still wrapped around Rukia is shaking with outrage. "Just how is Pineapple Head?"
"Nii-san was the only one the doctors let inside because he took responsibility over him, since Renji was officially out on his morning patrol." The young Kuchiki explains, and even if she never stares directly at him, Ichigo knows she's doing as much to his benefit.
Chief of police Kuchiki Byakuya crosses his arms slowly over a ridiculously broad chest, which results in making him look even larger and, well, scarier. "The bullet hit some neural region near his cerebellum. Of course they removed it when he was first brought here, and surgery went smoothly, so there shouldn't be any splinter left – but that is an extremely delicate zone, with high chances of permanent damage. Adding severe blood loss to the mix, there is the concrete possibility Abarai will remain paralyzed or suffer from serious memory issues. Not to mention PTSD."
"PTSD?" Rukia echoes in a small voice.
"Post-traumatic stress disorder." The doctor in Ichigo butts in reflexively, his mind barely registering what comes out of his mouth. Renji's prognosis sounds all the more petrifying to his ears, given how he's gotten used over the years to hearing the very same expressions referred to countless firearm victims. It's not encouraging that those people would more often than not end up on the sectioning table at the morgue as the topic of many a legal medicine practical class, either.
"At any rate, it's no use staying here." Byakuya's deep voice shatters the unreal silence they'd all fallen in upon hearing the dispiriting diagnosis. "The doctors don't expect Abarai to wake up before nightfall, and even then he would have to remain under critical care, hence unable to receive visits." Obsidian irises scan the youths before them one by one, only narrowing aggressively as – or so Ichigo takes it – they lay on the ginger head.
"Right." Rukia murmurs darkly, barely daring lift her gaze to her brother's eye level. "Nii-san should probably go back to work. You must be very busy."
An oddly soft expression crosses the captain's noble features for a moment, quick enough not to leave a trace afterwards. "Che. I meant you kids have no business staying. I am not going anywhere."
The collective gasp of incredulity translates efficiently into the younger Kuchiki's objection. "But nii-san, you're needed at the headquarters! Who's going to direct the investigation on Renji's aggression if you're here all the time? Besides, you said yourself there's no point in staying until he's transferred to an ordinary ward and allowed visits."
"I can go in anytime." The long-haired man points out flatly, not really bothering to glance down at his sister. "Also, my subordinates happen to be most qualified. I trust them to handle things brilliantly in my absence." The captain leans back against the wall, a final move much like the closing of a book. "You kids go. I will give you a ring as soon as Abarai's back with the living."
"I'm staying."
Only once the words have already left his mouth does Ichigo realize he's openly contradicted Kuchiki Byakuya, of all people to defy. Renji's taichou stares at him like he would some sort of inferior, repulsive hairy insect. "You red didn't hear me?"
Man, this guy's fucking scary. No wonder Rukia gets so violent. "I think I can talk some nurse into letting me in by playing the med student card."Ichigo ventures, careful not to take an assuming stance in front of the easily enraged captain. "Don't feel like leaving Renji's side if I can help it."
He feels Izuru shift unconsciously closer, half showing support half seeking protection behind his back. Something akin to respect reads on Momo's now slightly brightened face, while Rukia glances back and forth between her friend and her brother with round, wary eyes. Even Toshiro takes a step in his direction, but seems to reconsider it soon after and stills awkwardly.
Ichigo's lips arch in a tiny smile. Gonna make do.
Byakuya's piercing stare relents after what feels like an eternity. "Suit yourself." The man grunts hatefully, then turns on his heels and disappears beyond the door to the ICU without sparing so much as a glance his sister's way.
"Well…"
Momo's tone is hesitant and, Ichigo realizes belatedly, guilty. "Given the current state of things, I… well, there really is no reason for us to stay if… and I do need to get back to the campus, there's a Sisterhood meeting scheduled for this afternoon, and as president of the Committee I'm expected to show up at some point."
"We all had plans for the day." Kira offers prudently, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip nervously. "But I'm not sure we… I mean, it wouldn't be very nice of us to – "
"Guys?" Rukia sounds and looks every bit as a frightened child as she wraps both arms about herself and lowers her head, watery eyes shielded by thick black hair. "Do you think… Renji is going to be alright?"
Ichigo feels his throat constrict with such force he's left panting for breath within a minute.
"We can only keep our hopes up." Toshiro utters quietly, and it's not long before they're all sitting, the four of them, in a row of wobbly plastic chairs outside the ward, none mustering the strength to do much more than lay back against the seat and think it through.

And think it through, Ichigo does.
"Tatsuki's period is late. She's taking a pregnancy test as we speak." He had said that morning, not more than 5 hours prior, to the same man lying in a bed under intensive care after getting his skull blown by a motherfucker who went around packing heat like in a sodding mafia movie.
"So, what the hell are you doing here?"Had been Renji's dry comeback.
"Excuse me?"
"Your girlfriend is taking a fucking pregnancy test and you're not there, by her side? What kind of boyfriend are you? What kind of person?"
"Like you're a saint yourself! How many girls ran away from you weeping?"
"That's a whole shitload of a different matter, fucktard! You can't possibly be serious!"
"Well, why? What makes it so different? Is it because that's you?"
"It's because they were not fucking pregnant when I'd dump 'em, for one! Man, are you even listening to yourself anymore?"
"We don't know for sure whether Tatsuki is pregnant or not. May be just a close call."
"And you think if that is the case, she deserves to be left all by herself? That you'd only be expected to take responsibility if there actually was a baby growing inside her? Screw this shit, Ichigo! She's your goddamn woman! You can't act like her body matters to you while inside the bedroom and then dispose of it like a sodding garbage bag the moment you're done! Just what sick fuck have you become?"
"Did you come over just to insult me, or do you have any real advice to offer?"
"You don't need advice, you need to get yourself back from whatever gutter you got lost in. Tatsuki is your girlfriend, and she has rights. Hell, she has needs you're supposed to meet. If you can't do this much, then you're not worth her time anymore than you're mine, or anyone else's."
The double entendre had been clear like daylight, and stung just as much. Ichigo had curled up in a ball on the comfy chair, a mop of bright orange hair the only part of him still exposed. "I was never able to love her, you know. Not the way she loves me."
"That's no excuse to chicken out on your duty. If anything, it only means you owe her all the more – you owe her all the time she gave a jerk like you and is never getting back, no matter how much this'll destroy her in the end."

" – saki. Kurosaki! Oi, Ichigo!"
A blur of grey and white is all he recognizes at first. He has to blink dumbly a couple of times until Toshiro's kneeling shape takes form before his eyes. "T'shiro? Whazzup?" The sleepy thickness in his own timbre surprises him. Somewhere through the dreamy fog clouding his brain an alarm sets off, and next thing he knows Ichigo is on the edge of his seat, eyes forced open wide in panic. "Is it Renji? Something about him?"
The footballer places his hands on each of the other's knees, a natural soothing gesture that sends shocks of electricity up Ichigo's whole body nevertheless. The embarrassingly obvious tremor running up his legs brings Toshiro to pull away in a flash, so eagerly the boy can barely find his balance and scramble on his feet to stand. That's when Ichigo's addled brain realizes his former lover had been crouching between his legs, breathing on the fabric of his pants, sliding cool hands down his thighs in an effort to reassure him – and he managed to scare him off with his ill-timed bodily reactions. Nice job, dickhead.
"Nothing new. Rukia's brother is inside harassing the doctors, I reckon." The corners of the prodigy's mouth quirk in a not quite smirk/half grimace. "Can't imagine anyone standing their ground in that man's face. Bet his interrogations are legend."
Ichigo smiles in agreement, albeit groggily. His dreamland haze is actually making it much easier to, well, handle something that could qualify as conversation with the one man haunting both his awake and asleep time. "What about Rukia and the others?"
"Gone for a while now."
He only then takes notice of the change in his surroundings – white neon lights in place of sunrays livening up the plain lounge room, all washed-out and fake and surreal against the darkness outside the windows. A quick peek to his wristwatch confirms Ichigo's intuition. "Damn. I dozed off."
Staring at him from above, Toshiro nods unnecessarily. "Soundly. Sorry to wake you, but…you seemed in distress." Aquamarine eyes drift fretfully, and understanding dawns on the redhead like bright gold fireworks.
He's here.
Which morphs soon enough into Why is he here?
Ichigo is just wetting his bottom lip, gingerly toying with the idea in his mind, when Toshiro takes the seat next to his and bends forward, elbows perched on his knees. "Bad dreams?"
The shorty's tone is nothing but conversational, yet the mere word – dreams – coming from he who starred in so many makes Ichigo wriggle uneasily on the spot. "Huh, not… really. More like, memories."
"Anything Abarai-related?"
Toshiro's question brings a scowl on the redhead's face. Hold the fuck on. It was never like him to stick his nose in other people's business unless openly consulted. Ichigo cocks a quizzical eyebrow. "Why would you ask?"
The cheap plastic chair screeches as Toshiro shifts to rest his chin in the hollow of his joined palms. "No reason. Just…" Teal eyes flutter – so do the annoying butterflies dwelling in Ichigo's belly – before swiftly latching onto the nearby wall, out of reciprocation range. "You don't have to feel guilty about what happened. Renji's accident, I mean. It was not your fault."
That thought having not even crossed his mind up until this very minute, Ichigo does a double take just to make sure it's really Toshiro he's talking to. Because, much as he's always made his blood boil like nobody else, this feeling of raw, bestial aggravation Ichigo couldn't quell if he tried is not something he'd usually relate to the footballer's presence. Snorting to keep his nostrils from flaring too evidently, the med student lets out in what he hopes will pass as just a minor snarl: "The hell are you talking about? Of course it wasn't my fault, I'm not the little shit who sent Renji in a coma."
It's no use pretending not to notice the startled and, god help him, pained flicker in Toshiro's eyes as the youth straightens up against the back of his seat, as though physically distancing himself from his own peak of gaucherie. "I didn't mean it like – "
Too fucking late, sentences the awakening rage demon inside of Ichigo. "Yeah, right, so you didn't. Whatever. Why are you even here to begin with? Why didn't you leave with the others?"
"I – I'm… not sure." True to his words, the prodigy looks genuinely lost for a moment. Ichigo revels in the sight – the idea of being able to make a wreck out of the aloof youth is thrilling, if not enough to soothe the ginger's indignation. "I must have thought I… I was afraid you wouldn't be alright on your own." Silver locks shroud the side of his face as the footballer looks away, delivering his next words to the blinding white walls. "It just didn't feel right to leave you."
"Thanks for your pity!"
Toshiro pushes his brows together in a harsh crease on his forehead. "Will you stop twisting my words? This is not about pity, and you know it."
Jerking abruptly to sit crosswise on the chair, Ichigo has to bite his inner cheek to avoid grabbing the shorty's arm and giving him one nice hard shake. "Then what's it about? You claim I am hard to read, but fail to see how much of a sodding sphinx you are yourself." His upper lip quirks in annoyance as if it had a will of its own. "I thought you said it hurt to be anywhere near me. Then why the hell are you?"
Toshiro hisses like an injured cat and squirms to get as far as physically possible while still sitting next to the carrot-top. The deed is not easily achieved though, and the whiz kid ends up slouching miserably on the farthest edge of the seat as Ichigo insists, unaffected.
"I've respected your wish. You said you don't want to – hell, you said can't – can't be around me, and I did everything in my power to grant you I'd stay outta your face. Then, what do you do? You go and just… pop up every damn where I turn! Like back when we were on hols."
"Are you blaming me for Renji's car dying on us?"
Somehow, the disbelieving, bordering on sardonic quality to the athlete's tone pisses Ichigo off all the more. "I'm blaming you for coming out to be with me, that night at the motel. As I'm blaming you now for staying, out of lord knows what sort of feeling." Shutting the other up before he gets a chance to speak, Kurosaki grunts. "Whatever the case, I don't care. I just wish you were fair and straightforward for once. Seriously, have you ever put your foot down and stood your ground about anything in your entire life?"
As if taking Ichigo's metaphor to heart, Toshiro leaps on his feet, the strain deriving from their little discussion proving to be too much for him to stay put. "Where did all this even come from? Jesus, Ichigo, what the fuck is your problem?"
The redhead is over him in a feline whirl of wrinkled clothes and expensive cologne, a mix that strikes Toshiro's senses with such sheer force to send him stumbling blindly backwards, till the footballer's toned calves hit the edge of a chair and he finds himself sprawled in his previous seat.
"My problem, you say?" Ichigo follows his former lover in his fall and puts each arm on the chair's armrests, effectively trapping Toshiro there. Their eyes lock as the med student leans forward, close, close, closer now, to the point the tips of their noses are brushing and Ichigo can all but breathe out his words on the prodigy's lips. "If you won't be with me, then don't. If you can't bear my presence, don't. All I'm asking you to is not put me through the hell of having you close to me when you'd much rather be elsewhere. Of wondering what is it you're really thinking all the time. What is it you truly desire." Truth be told, rage-driven Ichigo is only half conscious of their current predicament, but he instantly becomes aware of the stress he put on the last word when Toshiro openly gasps at the sound of it, his amazing, amazing lips parting around a small sigh of excitement.
That changes everything. One shallow pant and Ichigo, pupils suddenly dilated with craving, is left cursing his total inability to suppress the shivers running down his body everytime Toshiro looks up at him like that, with naked need in his eyes, with raw vulnerability. "Don't torture me by being there if you won't actually be there. Don't stay with me if you won't be with me. Don't be my anything if you can't be mine." He whispers, slow and taunting, like it was a well-rehearsed mantra instead of the bleeding truth spilling from his core in the shape of a lover's prayer.
Toshiro's eyes are just that more rounded than usual, widened and luminous like an immense firmament, and the moment a shaky "Ichigo…" seeps past rosy lips, the redhead knows there's no turning back from there.
He's about five seconds from crushing their mouths together and then proceeding to fuck Toshiro into his squeaky chair, when the somewhat familiar sound of a plastic door creaking open alerts them both, causing Ichigo to scramble up and away from the other – whose shuddering form curls in a ball between armrests that are still warm with the ginger's body heat.
Turning up at the entry of the ICU, Kuchiki Byakuya stands on insecure legs, looking paler than the dead and worn as death itself, magnetic eyes circled by dark rings that almost seem too deep to be just one day old. When he speaks, his voice matches his aspect as in it bears the stress and fatigue of long hours spent dreading, sulking, breaking inside.
"Kids. Abarai is…"
Byakuya's gaze drops and Ichigo's heart sinks with it.

.

A/N: my, my, the level of angst in this fic is getting way out of hand, isn't it? I need cookies badly now.
- 19
- 20
- 21
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Happy Ending