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Past actions, current consequences	By : Akabara Category: Bleach > General Views: 1762 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not make any money from this. I do not own Bleach or it's characters.

Chapter List
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AN: Mentioning of an OC Death and a near rape are in this chapter. Be fore warned.

Seiya’s once gorgeously vibrant red eyes stared blankly at Yumichika, his peach toned skin was now ashen grey. Yumichika stared at the sight in pure shock for a moment before Aki’s second scream jolted him back to reality. Seconds, it had only felt like seconds ago the flamboyant man had closed his eyes. Yet for all of this to happen, had it been seconds? Had it been that in only mere seconds his perfect world had lost half its meaning, and the other half had become threatened? He didn’t know, nor would he waste time to ponder it. He gripped his Zanpakuto, staring at the sight before him. A red-haired man stood to Aki’s left, a brunette man to Aki’s right. She was trying desperately to break free of them. She was being made to lay spread eagle on the kitchen table, her legs bound by rope and chicken wire while the two previously mentioned men, each held an arm firmly above her head. By their stances, Yumichika could tell that they were aroused, and worse yet was the fact that a third man, crowned with blue hair, was in the process of lowering his hakama. They took no notice of him, or if they did, they surely believed he was too deeply in shock to do anything about the situation. The sensation of his stomach twisting into knots vanished from Yumichika, and he found his voice. Although the beauty could never recall sounding so cold and ruthless in prior times as the words left his lips, “Split and cut loose, Ruri’iro Kujaku.”

Yumichika’s eyes shot open and he glanced around, noticing the curtains, and the noises that were coming from around him. He was in the fourth squad, it had all been a dream. A horrible repressed memory transformed into a wonderfully nostalgic dream. He shook his head to fight back the images that were still flooding his mind. Aki, Seiya… the day he met Ikkaku.

The beauty’s face contorted with confusion for a moment as he wondered to himself why he’d had that dream, then he remembered, that green liquid that Lieutenant Kira had tossed at him. That had to be the cause of such a vile surfacing of his memories. He stood from the fourth squad hospital wing cot, becoming increasingly aware of two things, one he was painfully aroused. No surprise there, he hadn’t had any action like that since Seiya had been killed and a group of villagers had attempted to rape Aki. Luckily, he’d already bonded with his Zanpakuto, and had used his true shikai to free her from the thugs. That action had, however, left him feeling unsatisfied at the idea of killing the murderer of his male lover in such a way. So once he’d cut her lose and Aki had been able to huddle herself into a corner, he’d sealed his Zanpakuto and for the first time had used ‘Fuji Kujaku’. That was also the day that he’d met Ikkaku Madarame, the man who’d wander from town to town looking for people to fight. Apparently he’d heard Aki screaming, and had ran over to see what was going on. It turned out this man, despite the rumours that Yumichika and Aki had heard, did have a code of honour. For one, he always gave his name so his opponent would know the name of the person who defeated him. For another, he preferred to protect, not fight, women and children. Though he’d never admit it to anyone’s face, Ikkaku did have a softer side to him. Any man who dishonoured a woman, or attempted to, was in Ikkaku’s eyes unworthy of being in their presence. He’d violently bash their face in for that reason alone.

The other was an increasing sense of loneliness, which was numbing his arousal issue considerably. There was something else bothering him, which made that loneliness a thousand times more painful: Seiya was gone, and Aki had told him years ago to never seek her out or speak to her again. The memory of that scene flashed in his mind, no hostility, no anger in her expressions. Just pain lightly kissed over her lovely, delicate features, when Yumichika informed her that he’d found the man who had defeated but refused to kill Ikkaku, and that they were going to go find him again.

The beautiful man’s lavender orbs closed momentarily in regret. In all of the years since he’d first joined the guard squads, he’d never questioned his decision to join the guard squads. He worried if he, himself, would eventually become a danger to Aki if he stayed. He couldn’t see himself harming someone so perfect, but he was left very bitter and guilt-ridden over what had occurred that day. He had slept through the attack that killed Seiya. He barely woken up from his sleep, and then escaped his trance like state in time to save Aki from being violated, or perhaps even worse once they’d all had their ‘share’. Part of the reason he didn’t drink alcohol was due to his fear of spilling the secret nature of his Zanpakuto and the other, was simply that he was afraid he’d turn into a blood thirsty raging monster if he did consume too much. How much was too much? It had been so many years since he had drank, he wouldn’t even hazard a guess. He also knew that the guilt he silently carried was the reason or his out-burst in the field when Ikkaku had been over powered by the Arrancar he was facing, which had led to the shinten being flung onto his face and thus that crazy prolonged dream. Then the peacock blinked as a sobering question filled his mind: How long had he slept?

His normally strong shoulders now sagged heavily with his rediscovered gloom. The past aches that he had tried desperately to forget pained him like he was being stabbed by shards of salt covered glass. He found it impossible to stand with his normal confident and somewhat intimidating stature as he left the hospital room and headed towards the front doors of the barracks. He avoided eye contact, or speaking with others as he walked. He easily avoiding bumping into some of the nurses, a voice seemed to be calling out something indistinguishable. He didn't recognize the voice, nor pay it any mind as he opened the doors to the fourth squad barracks and left, heading towards his home. As he walked, memories continued to flow into his mind unwelcomed. It was as if a dam had broken inside of him, and there was no stopping this onslaught of emotional agony he'd rather carry physical scars over. Yes, having a hideous physical scar would be more appealing to him than these images and words that dug at his core and tore his heart little by little, yet try as he might he couldn't stop the memories from coming to him. Desserts, salmon, pig's feet, tea, art, fashion, a make over, a maniccure, a pedicure, even a fight or a spar all seemed as interesting to him now as having to look at Charlotte Chuhlhourne once more.

He wanted to see her. Every particle of his being longed for her, he briefly smiled as his memories of when it was only Aki and himself returned to him. Then as suddenly as that moment of happiness reached him it was yanked away. The smile on his face dissolved, while hot tears stung his eyes as he remembered their last conversation. Against his will, her tearfilled voice echoed in his ears, "if you follow that ugly, vile monster. If you go off and become a Shinigami under his command, that's it for us. Forget about me. Don't ever come back here looking for me. Forget everything. Everything we shared, everything we said, every moment. Don't write to me, don't try to find me, and if by some castastrophically putrid chance you should see me, don't talk to me. Don't look in my direction. If you leave today, you're nothing to me as I am nothing to you."

A deft hand quickly came up, wiping away the tear that had fallen onto his right cheek. Why had she said that to him? More importantly why had she been so adamant that it was the way it must be between them? At the time, he'd been too angry and too emotional to ask. The place he'd called 'home' for the last sixty years, the eleventh division, was a roof for shelter from rain, a kitchen for food, and a soft pillow for his head. Though he tried with every fiber of his being to deny it, his home, his real home was where he had left the remaining half of his heart. Yumichika had finally admitted it to himself, his home was with Aki.
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Past actions, current consequences