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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
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 6
It was quiet in the shop, and Ichigo could hear the soft patter of rain against the roof and walls. Ulquiorra had finally stopped eating and had stacked the two nearly empty boxes on top of each other next to him. He was clearly sleepy now, trying to stifle yawns, and his usually incredibly green eyes were somewhat hazy. Ichigo caught Kisuke watching him and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I know he’ll try to take revenge on Mayuri,” Kisuke said. “Don’t get involved.”
Ichigo’s eyes widened innocently. “Me? Get involved? Never!”
The former captain let out a tortured sigh. He knew Ichigo would intervene. He always had and always would as long as he deemed it was necessary. Kisuke didn’t know why he bothered opening his mouth. It was necessary that Ulquiorra interfered – the Arrancar simply had no other choice, and Ichigo was going to follow him, either to stop him or to help him, most likely both at once, but he was going to follow Ulquiorra.
“Oh, right,” Kisuke said, remembering. “I want to scan him again to check how his wounds are closing up.”
Ichigo found himself nodding then frowned. It was as if Kisuke was asking for his permission. “Why don’t you just tell him that?”
The former captain rolled his eyes and fanned himself irritably. “He doesn’t like me and he trusts me even less.” He snapped his fan shut and pointed it at Ichigo. “And it’s faster this way – I don’t need to write.”
From the end of the fan that was aimed at the red-head’s chest, Ulquiorra’s sleepy eyes rose to Ichigo. He was thinking about asking when they could go home so that he could sprawl over the futon or the bed, whichever Ichigo would provide him with, and get some sleep.
When he was told about the delay, a discontent frown set on Ulquiorra’s face and it was clear that the idea of getting back into the apparatus didn’t please him. Kisuke watched Ichigo point at his own body then Ulquiorra’s but the Arrancar gave him an apathetic look and didn’t move. Ichigo patted his pocket and held his hand out for the notebook in Ulquiorra’s. The former captain could tell that the Arrancar was toying with the idea of refusing to hand it over.
“Ten minutes,” Kisuke said, raising both hands, fingers spread. “It will only take ten minutes.”
The Arrancar ignored him but pulled the notebook out of his pocket and held it out to Ichigo. The red-head scribbled down a few sentences and passed it back. Ulquiorra read them and an even deeper frown set on his face. He put the notebook back into his pocket, stood up and walked towards the machine.
“What did you tell him?” Kisuke asked, standing up as well.
“Just that you might find a way to make him recover faster and then he could go back to being a bloodthirsty bastard sooner and…” Ichigo trailed off with a grunt. He knew that Ulquiorra was tired and suspicious of everything. Still, he couldn’t help feeling irritated. Ulquiorra telling him that he had no right ordering him around had somehow made him more susceptible to the Arrancar’s negative reactions to his requests.
When Kisuke turned the apparatus on, Ichigo wanted to remind Ulquiorra that he had to undress but the Arrancar’s clothes flickered and disappeared before he could even open his mouth.
“Convenient,” Ichigo said, averting his eyes from the Arrancar’s white alabaster back. He took note that Ulquiorra’s skin was still covered in smears of dried blood. Lately, he hadn’t noticed any blood on Ulquiorra’s front, the Arrancar obviously having cleaned it off with whatever means he had managed to muster up.
When Ulquiorra was inside the machine, Kisuke pushed a few buttons and it set to work with a soft, low hum. The former captain turned to Ichigo, who had retreated a few meters away from the apparatus and was now motioning for him to come closer.
“Could we use the hot spring in the basement?” Ichigo asked. “He’s still covered in blood and it’s impossible to remove it using water here.” He knew he was asking a big favor – there weren’t many who knew about Kisuke’s secret training grounds. There was, however, not much point in hiding it since he was certain that they would need to use it in order to make sure Ulquiorra regained his power.
The former captain gave Ichigo a searching look, but the red-head could see that Kisuke had similar thoughts concerning the matter. Kisuke nodded.
“I’ll ask Ururu to get everything ready.”
Ichigo wondered what exactly “everything” was, but realized that it probably included towels and soap. The hot spring also had regenerating abilities, which would speed up Ulquiorra’s recovery. Or maybe it only healed external wounds; Ichigo was never sure about that.
Startled, Ichigo looked at the machine when it pinged loudly. Kisuke walked back to it to pick up a few papers it had spat out onto the floor. Studying them, he left the room in search for Ururu. He returned almost at the same time that the machine stopped whirring and the lamps blinked out. Three more pages dropped to the floor and Kisuke pushed a button to make the tray slide out of the apparatus.
Just as Ichigo expected, Ulquiorra was sound asleep. He shook the Arrancar’s shoulder lightly to rouse him and had to lean back as Ulquiorra sat up suddenly, his hand shooting up for his throat. It stopped just a few millimeters away, the sharp white nails almost touching the red-head’s skin. Ichigo heard Benihime sliding back into its sheath. Completely still, he watched confusion clear from the bleary emerald eyes, then Ulquiorra’s arm dropped back to his side. The Arrancar slid off the tray, his clothes reappearing and solidifying before his feet touched the floor.
“And?” Ulquiorra asked, motioning at the papers in Kisuke’s hands.
The Arrancar didn’t quite meet his eyes, his gaze sliding past his left shoulder, and Ichigo realized that he felt guilty. It was naïve to wait for an apology, but at least the Arrancar felt uncomfortable.
The former captain picked the papers up off the floor. “I’ll need to study them first. Meanwhile, the two of you can go to the spring. Ururu should have everything ready by now.”
Ichigo hadn’t been certain if it would be easy to convince the Arrancar to go to the spring, but as soon as it was mentioned, Ulquiorra agreed. Ururu led them to the basement and then opened the trapdoor leading to the training grounds. When they had climbed down the ladder and the size and purpose of the area became apparent, the Arrancar stopped in amazement. Ichigo, who had temporarily been allowed to enjoy the possession of the notebook, jotted down a few sentences to explain to Ulquiorra that some time ago, he had used these training grounds.
Ururu led them to the hot spring, placed the toiletries near the water’s edge, and took her leave. Ulquiorra was still looking around, taking in the yellow hills and heaps of sand and rocks, the scattered trees, and the suspicious azure sky. When he turned around, he saw Ichigo lowering himself into the hot spring.
“She brought those towels for a reason,” Ichigo muttered, with an awkward motion of his hand to the pile of toiletries behind Ulquiorra’s back. The Arrancar ignored him, stepping into the hot spring completely naked. Ichigo averted his eyes.
“It’s only the two of us here,” Ulquiorra said in a somewhat amused voice. “And you’ve seen everything already.”
“I think this is the fourth time I’ve had the courtesy,” Ichigo said with a snort. “But who’s counting.” He could see that the Arrancar didn’t understand what he had said but it was pointless to explain. Ichigo watched Ulquiorra sit down opposite him and get comfortable. The water felt pleasant and the Arrancar closed his eyes, starting to nod off almost instantly.
Ichigo pushed himself off the rock he had been leaning on and waded towards the edge to where the toiletries were arranged; if he wanted to leave the training grounds anywhere close to the current century, he had to take matters into his own hands. Wondering if he was about to cause an environmental disaster, he took a sponge and poured some shower gel on it. It didn’t look quite like common shower gel and it smelled a little funny, but it was obviously meant for washing.
“Stand up,” Ichigo said, tapping Ulquiorra on the shoulder. Ulquiorra gave him a curious look, but when he saw the sponge in his hand, Ichigo’s intentions became clear to him. “Turn around,” the red-head said, illustrating with his free hand.
Ulquiorra had a fairly muscular back and wide shoulders even though he was slender, now even too thin. He was also about ten centimeters shorter than Ichigo and the red-head felt like he was towering over the smaller body. The color of their skin contrasted as well. While Ichigo’s was tanned under the winds and the sun, Ulquiorra’s was as white as alabaster. Brushing over the pale skin with the sponge, Ichigo marveled at the smoothness. He brushed the black strands off the nape to wash the neck as well.
The black Hollow hole set on Ulquiorra’s sternum right where collarbones met was giving Ichigo an eerie feeling; the water that ran into it ran out the other side. For some strange reason, he had the urge to stick his hand through it. He could only imagine how Ulquiorra would react.
When there was no trace of blood on the Arrancar’s back, Ichigo squeezed the sponge into Ulquiorra’s hand, leaving the rest to him. He waded to the edge again and looked for something that would at least remotely remind him of shampoo.
Ulquiorra’s hair proved to be quite a difficulty. Ichigo tugged at the helmet, then tugged with more force when it didn’t budge. He grunted as Ulquiorra’s palm pressed against his chest firmly, pushing him away.
“What are you doing?” the Arrancar demanded.
“What does it look like? I’m trying to wash your hair.”
Ulquiorra was staring at his mouth, giving him a confused look that suddenly disappeared. “You’re trying to take off my…?” he trailed off, amusement clear on his face. “It’s a Hollow mask. You can’t take it off, it’s permanent, a part of me. Don’t you know that?”
Ichigo felt himself blush lightly. “Well, of course I know that!” he said defensively. “It’s just that… Well, it looks like a helmet! How was I supposed to know? And how do you even wash your hair like that?”
Ulquiorra’s head was slightly turned while he watched Ichigo’s mouth, obviously not understanding much, and Ichigo felt his embarrassment retreat. He returned to his spot in the spring and sat down again. The Arrancar dealt with his hair easily: washed the hair on the right side of his head as per normal and then shampooed the hair on the left side, pushing his hand under the helmet as far as it could go and then dunked his head into the water to rinse it.
They were almost done when Ichigo noticed a little shadowy shape slithering over the sandy ground. Ulquiorra sensed the new presence and turned to look at a black cat that now stood at the edge of the hot spring. Ichigo suppressed a groan. Seeing the lack of reaction from Ichigo, Ulquiorra ignored the cat, continuing to rinse his hair.
“I thought I’d see how you two were doing,” Yoruichi said, sitting back on her hind legs, her tail coming round to wind around her front paws. She cast an appreciative look at Ulquiorra’s chest and her gaze slid down his stomach, down to where the white alabaster skin met water. Definitely content with what she saw or imagined, her eyes rose back to the Arrancar’s face to see a questioningly raised eyebrow.
With a soft laugh, the cat slid into the warm water and swam deeper into the pool. Yoruichi swam around, the small black paws paddling through the water rapidly. She found a nice spot and settled there.
Ichigo started at the loud booming sound of Yoruichi’s transformation. He and Ulquiorra stared at her bare shoulders above the water. Most of her chest was visible, the water masterfully covering the darker nipples. She grinned at them and Ichigo turned away. He muttered under his breath indignantly. Ulquiorra, however, curiously investigated the blurred reflection under the water. A few seconds later, he turned around and went to the edge of the water where the toiletries were. He grabbed a towel and threw it at Yoruichi.
“I was told these were here for a reason,” he said. Yoruichi raised her hands to catch it, her breasts rising up from water. “Must have been this reason,” he continued, amused but pleased by the sight.
To his horror, Ichigo realized that Ulquiorra was flirting back. The concept was so foreign to him that for a few seconds he just stared at Ulquiorra blankly. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what he would do if they decided they needed some time alone. Could an Arrancar even be interested in a Shinigami? What he was supposed to tell Kisuke? What was Yoruichi doing here anyway? And what was…
“What are you doing?” Yoruichi asked when Ichigo dunked his head under the water and didn’t resurface for a while. “Hey,” she said, smacking the back of his head. “Are you trying to drown yourself?”
Ichigo raised his head out of the water to glare at her but quickly averted his eyes from the two lulling mounds in front of his face. She was going to be the death of him; absolutely shameless. And he wasn’t even a shy fifteen-year-old anymore. What was she thinking? Then Ichigo heard the faint sound of footsteps and saw Ulquiorra walking away from the hot spring, already dressed. Ichigo went after him, wading through the water in big steps. He hesitated only a moment then, without looking back, threw his Shinigami robe over his shoulder. Rushing, he peeled the wet towel off his waist and started dressing.
Disappointed, Yoruichi watched them go. Just as Kisuke had said, the Arrancar was a very interesting specimen. There was something about him that piqued her curiosity. With a sigh, she left the hot spring and took the towel that Ichigo had left her; the red-head wasn’t as fun as he had been back in the day. After wringing her hair off, she wrapped the towel around herself and turned towards the exit.
“So did you have fun?” Kisuke asked when he saw Ichigo and Ulquiorra walking back into the living room. Ulquiorra frowned then turned to look at Ichigo, who then jotted down the question for him.
“Yes,” Ulquiorra said with a nod. He pointed at Ichigo. “He almost tore my head off.”
Ichigo sputtered. “I did not! I was just trying to wash his damn hair!”
“And then we saw another one with big…feet.”
Closing his mouth, Ichigo turned to look at Ulquiorra, but the Arrancar was already walking towards the machine. “Anything interesting?” he asked Kisuke, giving him a questioning look.
“He looks much livelier,” the former captain noted to Ichigo.
“Yeah,” Ichigo agreed bitterly, “revived by big feet.”
They sat down at the table again. Kisuke arranged the papers from the machine on the table while Ichigo pulled out the notebook and pen to record the most important facts for the Arrancar. The soak in the spring had made Ulquiorra hungry, and he opened the box with the cake again.
“According to the data, his vision should already be back to normal,” Kisuke said. “Ask him if he has any complaints about it.”
Ulquiorra didn’t, and Kisuke leafed through the documents, finding another one. “His internal organs are healing nicely, tissues growing back,” he summed up. “At this rate, he should make a complete recovery in three to five days, including his hearing. It will, however, take more time to recover his normal body weight and energy levels.” He stopped to wait for Ichigo to catch up to him. Ulquiorra read the notes and nodded, then shoveled more cake into his mouth.
“So he can’t transform yet?”
Kisuke gave Ichigo a look. “If he tries to undergo any of his transformations, he’ll either faint or self-destruct; he doesn’t have the energy for that.”
“I see,” Ichigo muttered. He wrote this down and showed it to Ulquiorra. The Arrancar didn’t react to the information in any way. It was obvious that he had already known this.
The three of them turned to the door to see Yoruichi enter. She was still wrapped in a towel. She walked over to the table in silence. Still eating cake, Ulquiorra pulled the bra out from under the table with his other hand and held it out for her.
“Thank you,” Yoruichi said, taking it. She kneeled in front of the table to look for the rest of her clothes. She seemed to be missing a piece. She raised her head to follow the Arrancar’s hand, which was pointing to Kisuke’s pocket.
Both Ulquiorra and Ichigo watched the panties exchange hands. There was something absurd about the situation and Ichigo just sat and stared, pretending it wasn’t happening. Yoruichi and Kisuke’s relationship was a strange one. He would have expected them to have married decades, maybe centuries ago, yet somehow it didn’t work. Was it because of the incredibly long terms, and with great spiritual power, never-ending terms? Humans, spurred by their short lifespan, were like hamsters in their spinning wheels: they went to school, graduated, found jobs, married, had children, and died. Ichigo realized that he didn’t know much about these matters in Soul Society. They had schools, they had jobs. But did they even need to reproduce when they knew they would just be born again on Earth if they died? He, however, had seen children. Byakuya Kuchiki had been married, too. For how long, Ichigo had never asked. It wasn’t his business.
“Alright,” Kisuke said, clearing his throat when Yoruichi left. “So where did we leave off?”
“At him not being able to use his transformations,” Ichigo said, the trail of his thoughts scattering but not disappearing completely.
With the fan, the former captain pushed his striped hat away from his eyes and leafed through the data again. He stopped at one particular page and tapped on a row of numbers there. “Did you bring the Shinigami robe he was wearing when you first found him?”
“Huh? No, I thought you didn’t need it anymore.”
Kisuke’s finger brushed over the numbers again. “Bring it with you next time. I’d like to take a closer look at it.”
Ichigo nodded. “Alright. So, is there anything else you found out?”
The former captain delved into the documents again, but then shook his head. “No, that’s probably it. Just let nature take its course.” Ichigo gave him a funny look; it seemed as if he was about to say something. Kisuke waited, but Ichigo just shook his head.
ooOoOoOoo
“What should I do with this?”
With a toothbrush between his teeth, Ichigo looked at the Shinigami robe in Yuzu’s hands. It was Saturday, the laundry day. Yuzu was obviously having difficulty seeing the robe, as she was holding it uncertainly, as if it might disappear at any second.
“Just leave it,” Ichigo said. “You can’t wash it using water from here.” He took it from Yuzu, lifting it in the air with his free hand. The red-head turned it this way and that, inspecting. It was a common Shinigami robe that could be seen anywhere in Seireitei. There was nothing distinctive about either the design or fabric. It also seemed to be relatively clean, aside from the faint smell of blood. Wondering why Kisuke seemed so interested in it, Ichigo dropped it into the corner.
It was almost eleven in the morning but Ulquiorra was still asleep, just as Kisuke had said. Using the opportunity, Ichigo went to Yuzu’s room to use the computer and download the syllabus for his philosophy lectures. He printed it out and started reading, underlining what he considered most important. In about an hour he went to the kitchen to make himself some tea. Ulquiorra was already there, sitting in his usual place, the empty lunch box in front of him. Ichigo found that he was unpleasantly surprised. The notebook was on the table on Ulquiorra’s right, and Ichigo could see that the front page was filled with Yuzu’s neat writing. During the last few months, it had become easier for her to see spiritual beings and objects, but it still had to be difficult to talk to someone you could barely see.
“Good morning,” Ichigo said, walking towards the kettle. Ulquiorra answered the greeting with a nod. His surprise and awkwardness must have shown on his face, because Ulquiorra’s emerald eyes followed him as he set the kettle to boil, took a mug out, and carried out other small actions until he brought the tea to the table.
A house with two defenseless girls had been the worst possible choice to keep an Arrancar. Ichigo wasn’t certain he trusted Ulquiorra to this extent. Every time he saw Ulquiorra interact with his sisters, his whole body tensed. Subconsciously, he knew that Ulquiorra wasn’t interested in them enough to harm them, but there was more to that. Ulquiorra was a Hollow, and was obviously not in full control of his instincts.
His father was going to kill them both.
Ulquiorra blinked when Ichigo slammed his forehead against the table. “What are you doing?”
Ichigo didn’t say anything. He lifted his head and let out a reverberating sigh. Shaking his head, he took the mug and leaned back in the chair. Just as he was about to take a sip, the doorbell rang. A few moments later Yuzu shouted to tell him that it was Uryu. Ichigo left his tea and went to the corridor to greet him.
Uryu was taking his shoes off. “I just thought I’d drop by to see if he hasn’t killed you yet,” he said.
Ichigo rolled his eyes. Orihime had already announced the news just as he had known she would. She had probably even asked them to take care of Ulquiorra.
“Why isn’t he dead?” the Quincy demanded. “Do you know how dangerous he is?”
“Of course, I know,” Ichigo shot back. “He nearly killed me back then.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”
“He did save your life, though,” the red-head pointed out.
“Only because it was convenient for him.”
“You know,” Ichigo said, refusing to give up, “instead of my horn, he could’ve taken my head off.”
“He missed?”
With an indignant grunt, Ichigo led him to the kitchen and motioned for the Quincy to sit down at the table. Ulquiorra’s thick eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Uryu before he remembered him.
“Do all of your friends know that I’m here?”
“I think they do now,” Ichigo said with a nod while fixing another mug of tea. He motioned to the notebook next to Ulquiorra’s right hand. “He can’t hear but you can talk to him using that,” he told Uryu. “Kisuke says his hearing should be back to normal in a few days.”
“Oh, joy.”
Ichigo turned to glare at the Quincy. “What’s your problem?” He shook his head when Uryu pointed at Ulquiorra. “Just drink your tea and go home. We’re doing fine, don’t worry.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about.”
“Well, yeah,” Ichigo said, carrying the mug to the table. He set it down in front of Uryu. “But I can’t just…”
The Quincy nodded. “I know.” He took the mug and blew at his hot tea. Staring at Ulquiorra, he took a careful sip and lowered the mug; it was still too hot. Ichigo couldn’t just leave him. Ichigo couldn’t leave anyone who needed help and it was obvious that Ulquiorra did.
“What happened to him?” Uryu asked.
Ichigo gave Ulquiorra a sideways look; he was staring stubbornly at his empty lunchbox. “A lot of things,” he said, starting a conversation that would last about half an hour.
When they finished talking, their tea had gone cold. Ichigo wanted to tell Uryu about his decision to stop Mayuri, it hung on the tip on his tongue, tempting him. Nonetheless, he squashed the desire down – there was no need to drag anyone else into what might end in disaster.
Deep in thought, Uryu tapped the side of his half-empty mug with a teaspoon. A funny expression crossed Ulquiorra’s face, and Ichigo turned to him questioningly. The Arrancar lowered his head to stare at Uryu’s mug.
“Can you hear it?” Ichigo asked. He took the spoon from Uryu and banged it against the mug again, louder this time.
The sound that reached Ulquiorra’s ears was faint, booming as if it were coming from somewhere deep underwater. It was shaky as well, disappearing and appearing then breaking off again. He watched Ichigo’s hand thump the spoon against the mug again. He could definitely hear something.
Ichigo exhaled in relief when Ulquiorra nodded.
“Hurray, he’s one step closer to killing us all!” Kon rejoiced sarcastically, jumping into the free chair next to Ichigo and waving his paws enthusiastically.
Ichigo turned to whack the spoon against Kon’s soft forehead. With a yelp, the Modified Soul fell back to the floor.
“That hurt!” he complained, standing up. He rubbed his forehead with his paw. “You’re so violent!”
“I’ll be even more violent if you don’t shut up,” Ichigo threatened. With an encouraging look to the Arrancar, he lowered his weapon next to Uryu’s mug.
Ulquiorra took the teaspoon again and banged it against the mug. He could definitely hear it. He banged it again.
“Alright, I’m off before I go deaf,” Uryu said, standing up. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Don’t leave me alone with these two!” Kon cried, rushing after Uryu.
TBC
- 5
- 6
- 7
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The Heart in My Hand