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A Shadow of What Was	By : katami Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 49594 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
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Author's Notes: Severe angst warning. You didn't honestly think I was going to make things easy on them, did you?

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"Give us a minute, Grimmjow," murmured Kisuke, his eyes sliding closed for a second as he tried to master his feelings. Not sure how successful he was; his heart still ached and his body still felt like it had been dragged through hell. He opened his eyes and tried to force his battered body upright. He was not going to have this conversation on his back in bed. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, the pain increasing sharply, but still bearable; then tried to go higher. The effort made him gasp, black spots dancing before his eyes, as his flayed abdominal muscles tried to work. He felt his ribs burning and clutched helplessly at his ruined side, flopping back like a beached fish.

�Asshole, you�re gonna tear everything open again. The fucking Shinigami just got you patched up. Dumbass,� snarled Grimmjow, shoving him back into the futon�s embrace, and making Kisuke bite his lip to stifle another cry of pain. Clearly, moving had not been one of his brighter ideas.

�Don�t touch him!� snapped Ichigo, and Kisuke wondered if he was insane to even think about trying to handle these two. He couldn�t even sit up and he was putting himself between two volatile, highly aggressive males. And people thought he was a genius?

Grimmjow growled softly at Ichigo, flipping him off, before he gently helped Kisuke upright. Ichigo grumbled but slipped several pillows behind his back to help keep him up. �I�ll find yer healer, Kitten. Tell �im ya need �im,� murmured the Arrancar, a large hand landing on the blonde�s head in a gesture that, had it come from anyone else, Kisuke would have called a caress.

�Upset him and I�ll rip yer balls off, captain or no,� he told Kurosaki in a growl that made Kisuke smile. It was nice to be cared about for more than just Urahara�s sake.

The blue-haired man left and Kisuke suddenly found himself alone with this stranger who didn�t feel like a stranger at all. Ichigo�s reiatsu wrapping around him felt...for lack of a better description - like a homecoming. It felt safe and natural to be wrapped in the other man�s energy - or at least it did to a part of him. And that part wanted nothing more than to reach out and return the affectionate gesture.

The problem was, he wasn�t the person who felt that way. This was Urahara�s lover and those were Urahara�s feelings. He, Kisuke, didn�t feel that way...he just remembered feeling that way.

Or that was what he tried to tell himself.

It was hard to fight against the offered warmth though. It was hard to turn away the obvious need in Ichigo when some part of him screamed and struggled against the very idea of hurting this man. He couldn�t remember all, or even most, of what they�d had, but Kurosaki Ichigo had been more than important to Urahara. This man had been like air to the former Shinigami and he would rather die than see him hurt.

�Kurosaki-taichou?� inquired a soft, hesitant voice from outside.

�Come in, Hanatarou. It�s fine. Mizuno and I can talk after you see to him,� called Ichigo, sounding calm and collected, the perfect captain. The haori the orange-haired man was wearing hadn�t escaped his notice and he remembered what one of those meant on a Shinigami. Ichigo had achieved his captaincy. Kisuke felt a spike of pride tinged heavily with sadness well up from deep inside him not sure why. He had helped make this possible, he knew that, but he couldn�t remember how or why. But he knew he was responsible for this. And that he had done something terrible to achieve it. He had done something to rip away this young man�s innocence and shred his soul to make a captain. His eyes slipped closed, tears sliding down his cheeks. It hurt so much., seeing the love this man had for him and knowing that he was a monster.

A warm hand caressed his cheek, gentle and soothing. �It�s alright, Kisuke,� murmured Ichigo, his voice like a balm, and like parched earth hungry for water, his soul lapped it up. Grey eyes fluttered open and locked with brown - and suddenly he was drowning - swept away on a flood of emotions.

He knew this man, loved him more than anything. He reveled in the fact that for a short time, this glorious creature of faith and fire would want him. He had pledged himself to this man heart, body and soul. Would live or die by his will.

"Kisuke," breathed Ichigo, moving to hug him, to take him in his arms.

"Don't touch me!" he nearly shrieked, unable to help it, knowing his resolve would crumble with a touch. The memories were too strong, too near the surface, he would be lost beneath them if Ichigo touched him. And he couldn't allow that; couldn't give Urahara that kind of a foothold. He couldn't let Urahara take control of him.

Kurosaki froze, snatching his hand back as if burned and looking at him with such honest and soul-deep concern that it cut him again. "It's alright, Kisuke. I won't hurt you," he promised. "I don't know if you know me..."

Kisuke shook his head, not looking at him and trying to shove back the tidal wave of feelings that this man brought out in him. He felt the numbness start to claim him, pushing back the feelings and for once he let it come, didn't fight it. Anything to block the torrent of emotion. Red ringed his irises and an iron will slammed down on the feelings, stopping his tears and letting him draw himself up tall and straight despite the pain in his side.

"He really should be laying down, Kurosaki-taichou," said the healer, clearly uncomfortable with all the emotion.

"I'm fine," murmured Kisuke, his voice cool and remote. "Just cast a quick spell on my ribs and you can leave us." The little healer did as he was told, leaving quickly.

"Kisuke?" whispered Kurosaki, doubt creeping into his voice, as if he was confronted with something he had never seen before.

"No. Not really, not in the way you mean. I remember a little, Kurosaki-san. I remember you. But I'm not him. I'm not your Urahara," murmured the other him, his voice smooth and apologetic.

"Then how...," began Ichigo, his eyes wide and pain beginning to suffuse his face.

"I remember a little and Ishida-san and the Arrancar told me about you and me. I'm not him though, Kurosaki-san." Emotion swelled inside him as Ichigo's face crumbled, grief, pain, sorrow, and hopelessness, chased one another across his face.

"Forgive me for troubling you, Mizuno-kun. I'll let you rest," murmured the redhead, stiffly, barely holding back his tears as he fled the room.

Kisuke watched him go, feeling the other him step back and the pain come surging forward. He choked back a single sob before giving up and letting the tears come. He slumped back into his futon and rolled to his side, drawing his knees up to his chest despite the pain and just sobbing.

"Ya lied to him," murmured Grimmjow from the doorway before coming to sit beside him. His face was surprisingly serious and there was something suspiciously like compassion in his eyes.

Kisuke just nodded miserably, not even sure he could get any words out past the lump in his throat. He could still see Kurosaki's brown eyes. Those haunting brown eyes filled with pain, the light dying in them. He had killed Kurosaki Ichigo's hope.

Tears slid over his cheeks, hot and bitter, and Kisuke tried to turn his back to the Arrancar. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to talk at all. He wanted to curl up and cry. Either that or slit his own wrists and put the world out of his misery. He tried to choke back a sob, his whole body trembling and pain tearing through his injured side. It didn't matter. It was a tiny drop in a vast ocean of pain. It hurt so much. It should hurt, it was his due, a tiny portion of him whispered. He had hurt Ichigo. He should hurt.

"It's...it's better...this way," he choked out. Not sure who he was trying to convince - Grimmjow or himself. Neither one seemed to believe him though. Grimmjow just stared at him dubiously and his heart just continued to ache.

He made a soft, low sound of pain and curled in upon himself tighter. Urahara was the one who was in love with Kurosaki, not him - at least that was what Kisuke tried to tell himself. It didn't help, it still hurt. It still felt like his soul had died when Kurosaki had walked out the door with tears on his cheeks.

Grimmjow picked him up, dragging him into his lap, wrapping an arm awkwardly around his shoulders and holding him close. Kisuke didn't startle, didn't do anything, too miserable to fight any hint of affection. He let himself be wrapped in the Arrancar's embrace, laying his head against Grimmjow's shoulder and continuing to cry. Grimmjow patted his back, hard thumps that proved he had no idea how to comfort anyone, and drew a small, sad smile from Kisuke for the attempt. "Seems ta me that if it were really best it wouldn't be hurting ya both this way," murmured Grimmjow, the larger man's cheek rubbing against his hair. Nuzzling him, realized Kisuke, slipping his arms around the Arrancar in a careful hug.

"Why are you here? With me," he sniffled, deflecting Grimmjow's point. He didn't want to defend himself when he was no longer sure of the answer. There had been a good reason for sending Kurosaki away - several of them. He just couldn't remember them when every fiber of his heart was screaming for him to go after Ichigo.

Grimmjow ruffled his hair affectionately, a gesture Kisuke thought he would have to get used to if the other man hung around, and shifted them. The larger man leaned against a wall and settled Kisuke more comfortably in his lap, strong arms closing around him. "Figured someone had ta keep an eye on ya," he grumbled. "Plus it was either watch yer sorry ass or be stuck with emo boy and that priss of a noble." Kisuke chuckled and sniffled recognizing the grumbling as Grimmjow's way of saying he cared. Apparently, badass former villains couldn't admit to feelings.

He nuzzled Grimmjow's shoulder and received a gentle head-butt in return. "Now why're ya making yerself and that dickhead Kurosaki miserable? I got nothing against ya making Kurosaki miserable, but ya get all sniffly and...wet," Kisuke could hear the absolute feline disgust at the idea of getting wet and chuckled - making him sniffle. "See? Wet," pronounced Grimmjow with a shudder.

"Why are ya making ya both unhappy, Kitten?" he asked more gently, giving Kisuke a careful hug.

"Because it's better to hurt a little now than a lot later," he whispered, eyes closing as the pain threatened to engulf him again. How could it hurt this much? They weren't even his feelings. They were Urahara's. How could someone so...methodical, feel so much?

"I'm not Urahara, not really. There are just bits and pieces, feelings and impressions of him inside me. I'm not the person he loves though and sooner or later...," he broke off, choking on the tears that had begun falling again, Urahara's grim knowledge that Ichigo would, and should, leave resurfacing. Urahara had been able to live with the knowledge that he would lose his love because he'd had Ichigo. Kisuke couldn't do that, couldn't embrace all those old feelings knowing that he would only lose the redhead.

He wasn't Urahara and he could never be him - not even for Ichigo.

"Sooner or later he would realize it?" Grimmjow prodded gently, his voice a soft, rumbling purr.

Kisuke nodded miserably, curling up and crying; Grimmjow letting him, soothing him quietly.
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A Shadow of What Was