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A Quincy's Heart	By : ShadowedInnocence Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Ichigo/Ishida Views: 3686 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, and I do not make anything off of my stories. I just use the characters to do my bidding in a plot that comes to mind.

Chapter List
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Chapter Three
Hidden From Sight
Bronze eyes leveled a frigid glare upon the hollow that was obviously amused at his reaction. That didn’t matter much, it only served to fuel the mounting anger and irritation that he was feeling towards his pale double.
The once white skies of his inner world had hazed over from the sickness that had taken hold of him, only to grow more turbulent as his emotions and mood flared dangerously. No, it wasn’t a sickness he had to remind himself, it’s all because of Shirosaki's incessant need to screw my life over. He froze in horror at that thought, noticing that he was being more articulate than normal. Fuck, he hissed softly. That only happened when he was really out of it and pissed off on top of it.
“Why the hell did you go and do that?” He asked in confusion, trying to bite back the urge to let his frustrations out. There had to be something that Shirosaki had in mind when he went and abruptly dumped this on not just him, but Ishida as well. There had to be something up, he wouldn’t have waited when he became sick like he did. Well, he really wasn’t the normal sort of sick now, was he? Shirosaki really knew how to get under his skin sometimes. It was a trait of his that he loathed like no other.
“Why’d I go and do what kingy?” Shirosaki asked, having the gall to look almost innocent while he was doing so. That was his undoing, from just that look he knew, he just knew that there was something that was being hidden from him, something that could be worse than what he just dropped on his head.
Ichigo’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You know what the fuck I mean, tell me why the hell did you go and do that?” he snapped out.
The hollow sighed, trying to bite back laughter. A few snickers escaped him, egging on Ichigo further. “It would help if you tell me what you mean; I’ve apparently done a lot for your ungrateful ass kingy.” He said slowly, almost as if he was speaking to a young child.
Brows furrowing in exasperation, he let out a deep sigh before lashing out verbally at the hollow. “What the fuck do I mean, oh so you don’t know that already? I want to know why the fuck you chose the time that Ishida was actually here at my house and when I was of so conveniently sick to go and drop something like that on us?!” he raged, drawing out a few raspy breaths. Taking a few seconds to calm himself, he glanced at the surprised Shirosaki with icy eyes. “I can deal with you making my life a living hell, I’m used to that. Just what in the hell were you thinking when you dragged in Ishida into all of this?” he demanded.
“What’s the big deal, you already know that you’ve wanted to do it ever since you saw the pretty boy.” Shirosaki commented, grinning as he saw the bright flush that swept itself over his king’s cheeks. Teasing his king was quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes, and now he has a great deal of material to work with now.
Heh, the gods do like me sometimes. He couldn’t help but to think smugly, watching his king splutter in denial.
“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t tell you to make me kiss Ishida you fucker!” Ichigo hissed out, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug look off of his face.
“Ya forgot one thing kingy, I’m your instincts; and just because of that I’ll know what you want before you can even recognize what it is.” The hollow replied with a giggle. This was just such an amusing situation for him at the moment. In the end, he’d get what he wanted and he would give his king what he wanted deep down as well. Now wasn’t that an incredible present to his king? He thought so at least. For being so nice, he should at least be let out more often. Maybe even in one of those gigai things that the crack head had; he’ll have to work on getting that to happen. His king could be just a stiff sometimes.
Just when would he finally realize that he’s being a great loyal subject and looking out for him? Damn bastards that attached the negative stigma to him; he’d get them back, in one way or another.
Ichigo couldn’t think of anything to say that would fully describe the levels of annoyance, anger, and embarrassment towards the situation that he was in. Though at the moment, the anger that he felt towards Shirosaki was now being coupled with embarrassment. He could bet that the annoying bastard was having a grand time too; he only saw that kind of grin upon his hollow’s face when he was up to something.
Any way that he looked at it, he was in for a hell of a lot of trouble. Shirosaki would just make things worse. Groaning softly he felt his legs give out from underneath him, causing him to tumble to the ground at his feet. There surely were more comfortable things to be resting against than the sideways buildings of his inner world, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. The stress of everything that had happened so far was getting to him.
“I don’t even know where to start when it comes to all of the shit that has happened so far.” Ichigo hissed, glaring at the cackling white form with blazing bronze eyes. It was quite unfortunate for him that he couldn’t find the strength to lunge at his hollow, most likely slugging him in the face for a start.
Tilting his head to the side, the grin upon the pale face looked like it was getting wider as normally harsh onyx and golden eyes shined in amusement. “What’cha mean about that kingy? Are ya so out of it that you can’t even think of anything? Heh, I didn’t peg ya for someone to be speechless so easily.” he mocked, kneeling in front of Ichigo’s collapsed form.
“Bastard.” The orange haired teen hissed out, grasping a hold of the bottom of Shirosaki's shihakushō tightly. “I finally figured out what the hell you did earlier,” he began, yanking the hollow to the ground. “The thing is,” he paused for a moment as he gasped for a few full breaths, the flush that had settled across his tanned skin flaring up with his emotions. “I really didn’t think you’d be that stupid enough to push it all to me and think that Zangetsu wouldn’t at least tell me a shred of what the hell’s going on here?” he hissed out, smirking in amusement as Shirosaki turned a wide eyed surprised look that quickly turned into a pissed off one.
“Fuck, I didn’t think that Zangetsu would go and tell ya that.” he muttered crossly. Having Zangetsu feeding Ichigo things about the hollow heat he was going though was going to put a kink into his plans.
Ichigo laughed bitterly. “Yeah, you didn’t think, that’s normal for you isn’t it?” he retorted. He didn’t care about the reactions that he could muster up from Shirosaki at the moment. Right now he felt like crap, and he wasn’t going to be the only one that was going to be in this whole mess. The damn hollow had started this, and he was going to be suffering alongside him. It was the only thing that came to mind as being fair.
The teen watched in strained delight as Shirosaki's pale skin took a pink flush, which was quickly reddening. What really brought a slight sense of satisfaction to him was that the normally clear and bright gold eyes had hazed over a bit, giving them a fatigued glow.
Cursing inaudibly the hollow finally collapsed beside him. “Ya know I really hate your guts sometimes king. Just why can’t you go and fuck the shit out of the Quincy? S’not like he isn’t one hot piece of ass. I just bet he’ll be fucking awesome in bed.” He commented, breathing shallowly as the true effects of the heat began to hit him.
With the little control that he still had over his body, Ichigo reached out and punched the back of Shirosaki's head. His hollow had tried its hardest not to show that he wasn’t as affected by this as he was, but as he drew his hand back, he felt one of the true outward effects of all of this. Soft, silky white hair was now on its way to being drenched in sweat and from what skin that he actually touched, he noticed that Shirosaki was faintly shaking in his spot.
I can’t believe I’m even thinking this, but I almost feel sorry for him. No! He couldn’t think that way; Shirosaki had it coming to him. Just why the hell did he look like he was in so much pain now though?
“Fuck king, did ya have to do tha’?” he groaned out, falling face first on to the window that he was previously perched upon. “I’m already going through the shit that’s coming your way if you don’t get your ass in gear, so leave me the hell alone.” He snapped out as he lied against the glass. The slightly pained look that had once crossed his features turned into a devious smirk. “Better yet, why don’t ya just stay here, I can go and fix this for us quick an’ easy.” He murmured, a few crazed giggles escaping him as he leered at Ichigo.
“If anyone’s going back to the outside world, it’s going to be me.” He informed his hollow as he struggled to sit up. “And will you give the whole idea of having sex with Ishida a rest already? I told you I’m not going to do it, alright!”
The pale form huffed. “Don’t blame me when this gets worse. I was just trying to help. It’s not like you’re going to have a choice soon anyways.” He muttered, watching his form fade slightly, signifying his return to the material world.
Huh, that’s funny—king hadn’t completely faded from this world. Normally he would’ve done so easily. It had to be because of the heat, they were going to be closer because of it anyways.
******
Shock wouldn’t begin to explain the feelings that had flooded through the bespectacled Quincy. He was too busy trying to wrap his mind around what Ichigo’s hollow half had just dumped on them so suddenly, half wanting to draw the smug hollow out the soul reaper’s body and let a few arrows loose into parts that it would dearly miss, just because he was a spirit didn’t mean that he didn’t have his pride. To destroy that would give the Quincy a brief rush of amusement, but it wouldn’t be what he really was after.
Well, at the end of this all he could always use an arrow or two to nail the annoying pest’s scrotum to the wall as punishment. He couldn’t help but to flinch mildly at the thought. Even if it were to be as a punishment, Uryū couldn’t help but to feel the phantom pain that the hollow would have gone through if it was carried out. It only made the idea all the sweeter.
It would only be the beginning of what he had in store for the hollow, which would be when he finally wrapped his mind around this whole situation.
Ah yes, he had realized that he had gone silent for quite a while; but he wasn’t the only one thankfully. Kurosaki had gone almost deathly silent as well, and the only signs that he was still actually alive were the faint rising and falling of his chest as he breathed, the wild fluctuations of his reiatsu, and the most amusing sign of all of this; how his face would go from scowling to livid, then back to scowling. It would almost be safe to say that the hollow was getting a good verbal lashing, and maybe even a good physical beating to add into the mix.
Smirking briefly, he was brought back to the situation at hand once the blackened reiraku came back into his sight once more. The last words that the hollow had said hadn’t slipped his mind one bit, and he couldn’t believe the absurdity of it all. It had said that Kurosaki had found his soul mate—which would be him if the hollow wasn’t pulling their legs. The sinking, sickening feeling in his gut combined with the despairing and angered look on his classmate’s face confirmed it.
Well damn, he knew that this was a bad day from the start; but to go and drop this onto him as well? It just brought everything into focus and blurred it at the same time. Damn paradoxes.
Uryū didn’t know what to think about this whole situation. On one hand he wanted to know just what was going through the warped mind of Ichigo’s hollow, and on the other, he was dealing with a confused muddle of emotions that were quickly turning into negative ones.
He was his own person, he didn’t belong to anyone. Why now, when his freedom was at stake was that he began to feel such a strong need to prove that he was indeed free of whatever tried to take him within its grasp? He was known as the last Quincy by ones that were spiritually aware, but what was he to the millions that weren’t? He was simply just Ishida Uryū, the son of the rich and well known doctor Ishida Ryūken. As much as he wished to deny this fact, it was something that was going to stick with him for the rest of his life. That or until he makes a name for himself and then and only then would be be free of the shackles that bound him to society.
The hollow’s words struck a chord deep within him that he wished that they hadn’t. He had been alone for longer than he ever had wanted to be, but there was no real way that he would be able to change it. It was almost as if the hollow identified with him in some way, but how would that be even possible? He hadn’t even met the hollow before now, and he hadn’t interacted with it either. It was a bit freaky as to how he could be just underneath the surface of Ichigo’s consciousness and still be able to view what was happening in the outside world.
Confusion, annoyance, and overall wonder were coursing through him. He detested the fact that the hollow thought he could so suddenly drop this upon another’s head, to drop this one someone that it would almost completely change the way someone lived their life. He would be damned if someone tried to tell him how to live his own life, he was the one that would live it, not anyone else!
That singular thought brought a new clarity to him. No, he wouldn’t go and roll over like some weakling; he would fight this head on, tooth and nail to keep his freedom and what was even more important to him at the moment, his sanity.
His brows furrowed at the thought. What would a hollow know about love coupled with the heartaches and joys that were supposed to come with it? He had to admit that he wasn’t very knowledgeable on the topic himself either, but there was one big difference between the two instances. The hollow had the barest amount of human contact with Ichigo and whatever enemy they encountered as to what he could assume from his brief encounter with it. How was it supposed to know anything about how a human behavior?
Oh that’s right; he was actually gifted with the pleasure of knowing Kurosaki’s hollow half’s name. It was something incredibly obvious that he was almost one hundred percent sure that the substitute shinigami had given him the name. While it wasn’t as painfully obvious as Urahara’s brief moniker of Ogichi, he had to admit it sounded a lot better than the name that they had known and mentioned the hollow as during speech. As brilliant as Urahara Kisuke was, he tended to have times where he acted like a petulant child wanting any form of attention that he could get. He also knew that the former taichō was a brilliant actor when he wanted to be too. Damn it all, this whole thing was linked back to the blonde. Just how involved was he in all of this?
******
“Hell no Shirosaki, just stop trying already! The answer was no, and it still is no you fucking pervert.” Ichigo hissed out, catching Uryū’s attention.
Wrenching himself from his thoughts with some difficulty he glanced at him questioningly, noticing that the orange haired teen wasn’t meeting his eyes. “What is it now Kurosaki?” he asked icily.
Ichigo glanced at Ishida with a dazed surprised look. “Ishida? Why’re you still here?” he asked softly, hesitantly. He was incredibly pissed off at Shirosaki, but he was more afraid of the reaction that his hollow’s actions would garner from the Quincy. As much as he would rather not admit it, he was more comfortable with him as an ally than him being an enemy. He’d rather it stay that way.
“What do you mean why am I here? I already told you. What I wish to know is why you went and dumped that disturbing piece of information on me?” he snapped out tersely. What had surprised Ichigo the most was that the Quincy’s normally frigid sapphire eyes were now bright and angered. It both captivated and put him off balance. He hadn’t known that Ishida actually had that much passion hidden underneath that mask of cool indifference that he wore.
Scoffing, his eyes met anything but the searching sapphire blue that were staring pointedly at him. “What the hell do you mean, it wasn’t me that did it baka; It was the damn pain in the ass hollow of mine Shirosaki that did it!” he replied, managing to sound both irritated and embarrassed at the same time. He didn’t know how the hell he did it either. There were too many feelings and emotions flying through him at a rapid pace currently, he couldn’t bother to ponder on once single instance at the moment. Growling at the thought of his hollow, he continued speaking with a raspy voice. “Hell, I didn’t even know that the bastard was going to do this, just because he’s a part of me doesn’t mean I know what’s going through his head all the time. Most of the damned time I don’t even know what the hell he’s thinking.” He ranted, collapsing onto his bed. Whatever form of strength that he used to pull himself up before had vanished, leaving his body as quickly as it came.
Hitting the bed roughly, he groaned as pain flared across his nerves, causing them to light one after another; bringing a wave of agony and heat that he hadn’t felt in such a way. “Fuck!” he hissed out angrily, quickly deciding that he wasn’t going to fight his body when it came to him actually sitting up. It wasn’t like his muscles weren’t going to cooperate with him anyways. Shit, he was in so much pain at the moment. The only time that came to mind when he was actually somewhat comfortable with the current situation going on was when Shirosaki took control of his body long enough to cling to Ishida like a child.
Oh fuck, he just didn’t think that, did he?
Amused laughter was his response. “So you are more affected than you let on! I thought that you were playing the stubborn one and not letting me know what the hell’s up with ya!” Shirosaki commented with slight awe, but it was mostly amusement that tinted his tone.
Ichigo’s reiatsu flared with the surge of annoyance that raced through him. “Shut the hell up Shirosaki!” he hissed underneath his breath, bringing his eyes back on the perplexed Ishida, who looked like he was going to speak again.
“You damn bastard, I can’t believe how moronic you can be sometimes!” the raven haired teen hissed, sounding much like an angry cat. Ichigo would’ve made a comment about it, but he was stopped by the feral, overall pissed look in Ishida’s eyes.
“What’re you—“as quickly as Ichigo moved to rebuke that statement, he was interrupted with a sentence that shocked him to the core.
“I thought you were different Kurosaki, a soul reaper like you managed to get a Quincy on their side, even after your kind almost completely wiped out my own. But this—“his voice trembled with barely controlled anger as he took in a sharp breath. “This is just beyond your usual level of stupidity that I’m actually stunned that you even allowed that damn hollow control of your body.”
Rolling his eyes, Ichigo managed to roll onto his side. “Yeah, like you really gave a fuck in the first place. Why the hell are you so worked up? It’s not like I actually knew what the hell he was going to do. You forget that I’m the one that has to deal with this shit every day, and I get this thrown on top of everything. Shit Ishida, I know that you’re pissed at Shirosaki for dragging you into this, I want to knock the bastard around quite a lot at the moment too; but it’s not going to solve anything.” He replied icily, letting the heat of his anger tinge his words, causing them to sound more like a loathed curse than he wanted them to.
The orange haired teen couldn’t help it sometimes. No matter how well he would get to know the hollow he couldn’t just go and forget his personality. That one singular defining trait of the hollow stood out in his mind, never wanting to break free. It was the thing that reminded him that even though he wasn’t after his head anymore, he was still the bastard that he was when he first introduced himself to him. “I can’t really control him sometimes. When our life’s in danger in any way, he always comes up out of the blue sayin’ he doesn’t want to die and shit like that.” He muttered, trying to muster up the strength to sit up once more. It was unsuccessful.
Ishida scoffed. “Why does that not surprise me Kurosaki?” he replied sarcastically, deciding to settle his back against the bed with his legs stretching outwards. He couldn’t stand looking at the shinigami right now, even if he had hardly anything to do with all of this. Wait, that wasn’t right. Even though Kurosaki didn’t drop this heavy and incredibly troubling situation upon him, the one that did was still a part of him; so that made him responsible as well by process of association.
“It’s not like I’m going to let myself die baka.” Ichigo snapped out, finding that the silence of the teen rubbed him the wrong way more than he would have liked to admit.
“Just how would you accomplish that Kurosaki?”
Ichigo frowned. “Hell if I know. I’ll just figure out a way to get through this.” He replied tiredly, feeling himself edge closer to the world of unconsciousness that was beckoning him.
“Leave me out of it. I’m not going to let Shirosaki control my life. I am and will continue to be my own person.” Uryū said seriously, causing Ichigo to gape in shock.
Ichigo was silent for a few minutes as he let Ishida’s words really hit him before he burst out into a raspy chuckle. “That’s what you were so pissed over? I know you’re your own person you damned sewing happy freak, what the hell made you think otherwise?”
Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose distractedly, he actually got up and walked over to the desk that was on the wall adjacent from where he was sitting. There was a small wrapped package sitting precariously on the edge of it and there was a familiar design upon the package. “Urahara-san was here.” He said as he diverted the topic to the package that he now held within his hands. Although he was still quite pissed at Ichigo and even more so at Shirosaki, he sat on the edge of the bed as he placed the package beside him. “What is it? I can sense a strange form of concentrated reiatsu, but that’s all.”
Ishida was graced with the sight of Kurosaki Ichigo actually relaxing a bit. He could see that he was still quite tense; the stiff way that he laid on his side was a testament to that. The thing that he had noticed was that a relieved grin briefly graced his lips. That was odd in itself. In all actuality he had the ‘luck’ to experience some of the widest expanses in Kurosaki’s mood that he had ever had before.
“Lazy bastard, it took him long enough to bring them here.” He growled out, rolling half onto his stomach. He barely noticed that he was now almost on top of Ishida, the only thing that was running through his mind was that he would get a small reprieve from the pain that he was in, that he might actually be able to sleep for the first time in three days.
“Concentrated reiatsu shots.” He murmured, reaching over Uryū’s lap to try to grasp the edge of the package. “That and pain pills.” He added breathily, stretching his arm out more and also managing to push himself against the stiffened Quincy all the more. “Damn it, just give me the damn thing, I can’t reach it.”
“Would that get you off of me Kurosaki?” The raven was feeling quite strange now; the contact between him and the shinigami that was splayed against him was slowly becoming a thing that he was accepting. He liked the warmth that accompanied the brief touches of skin against skin, and even when the orange haired shinigami was like this he relished the warmth that their contact brought him.
Sighing as a gentle wave of pleasure raced through his veins he stilled in his actions before reflexively collapsing against the warm body underneath him and snuggling against it. With the pain that he had been feeling the past three days this new sense of calm was intoxicating to him. “No—Damn it! Shiro was actually right.” He grumbled as the realization came to him. Ishida was actually helping with this whole thing. His already muddled mind couldn’t help but to go back to what the hollow dropped on them earlier. If skin contact between them helped this much, would having sex with Ishida make this all go away? It seemed like such a simple fix for this all, but it was just so wrong in his mind.
If he had to classify his sexuality, it would easily be bisexual. He didn’t have preferences towards either sex, what really attracted his attention was someone’s personality, not their looks. That was just an added perk when it came to a person. Though he had an attraction to both sexes, he decided quite quickly to act like a reserved and sheltered boy when it came to sex. Being the son of a doctor was one of the reasons why, but he mostly attributed it to Urahara and Yoruichi’s perverted, teasing, and embarrassing ways. There was no way in hell that he was as shy as he acted when it came to the situation, but he just couldn’t see himself fucking one of his friends. That was just a line that he wouldn’t cross. Doing so could and most likely would’ve caused their friendship to crumble and wither into nothing.
Damn it, now that his head was clearing in the slightest bit he was now taking the words that Shirosaki said into account. Damn him for actually listening to the bastard! He didn’t want to shake what fragile friendship that he had with Ishida so much that it wouldn’t be able to be fixed. There just had to be a way around this. At least, that’s what he hoped.
It was then that Uryū realized that he was quickly on his way to being addicted to someone’s touch. It wasn’t just anybody that instilled this feeling within him; it was the one that he saw as a rival, a comrade, and begrudgingly a friend. There was no telling if this was because of the whole soul mate ordeal that Shiro briefly explained to them or if it was just his fractured psyche trying to hold on tightly to whatever human contact that it could get, but there was one thing that he did know. He was actually enjoying the contact between himself and Kurosaki.
Bronze and sapphire eyes locked finally, drawing each other’s gaze. Neither broke it, and by the look in their eyes they knew that they were doomed to fail. Within each other’s eyes they found determination, frustration, helplessness and loneliness. With no one to witness such emotion flashing across their eyes, they felt somewhat safe knowing that no one would be told of this.
Within the darkened room, feelings, confrontations, and realizations came to light, and when the sun would rise, they would become hidden from the sight of an onlooker.
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A Quincy's Heart