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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: I have returned and I come bearing chapters! For anyone interested, Yaoi Con was a blast and I highly recommend it to one and all.

Irana, I'm so sorry that life has not been nice to you - I hope things are settling down and being good again. An original fic would be awesome. Kinda sad your review got cut off since your comments always give me a smile, but I hoped you enjoyed the Bya/Ulq chapter (since I know you love them).

Ichkak, welcome. Glad you've enjoyed the story and the I could help improve your bad week in some small way. And you must have some weird translations, everything I've ever seen has Ishida as the family name (or someone messed up on their name order - I tend to go with the traditional Japanese method of family name first).

I will wish everyone a happy Monday (if such a thing exists) and offer my warning that angst lies ahead.

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Ichigo smiled faintly as he caught sight of the two figures trotting up to the shouten. "Contributing to the delinquency of a minor, Yoruichi-san?" he murmured blandly. He should have been angry, should have been annoyed with her and the risk she had taken. But he had seen the brilliant smile on that beautiful face and heard Kisuke's joyous laughter; those two things had washed away his anger. He smirked as the dark haired noble cursed softly and a pale figure slipped from the shadows, a blush staining his cheeks.

"Nah, he's already a menace to himself and others," laughed Yoruichi.

"Mangy furball," retorted Kisuke, giving her a shove and quickly retreating to Ichigo's side. Ichigo blinked owlishly for a moment before giving the younger man a shy smile. His hands itched to reach out and touch that pale cheek, caress that silky blonde hair, anything and he had to clench his fist to stop himself. Gray eyes met his and Kisuke gasped softly and froze, staring at him, half longing half afraid.

"Gods above and below, you two are hopeless," muttered Yoruichi, stalking past them and giving Kisuke a shove so that the younger man stumbled into him. "Just trip already."

Ichigo caught the blonde, helping him back to his feet. Kiuske blushed and muttered something that Ichigo really hoped was impossible - if only for the sake of the sheep. He tried to resist, but his arm slid around the younger man's shoulders as if it had a mind of its own. Kisuke turned and stared at him and Ichigo felt his heart constrict painfully at the sight of those beautiful gray eyes.

"Are you okay?" he managed to squeeze out softly. Sadness crept into those gorgeous eyes and before he could stop himself, Ichigo was gently wrapping the blonde in his arms. "It will be alright, Kisuke. It will," he soothed gently.

And as the blonde's arms slid around his waist and the younger man's head settled onto his shoulder, Ichigo almost believed the words himself.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, but eventually Kisuke straighten and Ichigo released him, knowing the moment was over and as wonderful as it had been, if he clung to it he would just upset the younger man. The smile Kisuke gave him, understanding and grateful, was almost worth letting go, because there was so much of his love in that look. "Sit with me a bit," he pressed, suddenly unable to let the moment end or let the other man slip away. Not when it was all so familiar.

Kisuke looked hesitantly at the porch and Ichigo wondered if he had pushed too hard. The porch of the shouten had always been their spot. A moment later the younger man was moving and settling on the on the steps near the tray of tea he had been nursing before the blonde had shown up. Ichigo couldn't help but notice that it was his, Kisuke's, spot. He silently joined the blonde, pouring him a cup of tea.

"I couldn't," began the Kisuke, trying to refuse the cup.

"Ururu will be out with a cup any second now." Sure enough, the graceful young woman appeared as if by magic and quietly added a second cup to the tray she had brought him. Ichigo nodded a quick thanks to her, earning a soft blush and a quiet goodnight in return. The redhead poured himself a cup of green tea, letting the warmth soak into his hands as he savored something he had thought never to have again.

"Did you have fun with Yoruichi?" he asked quietly, not sure what to say but wanting to hear that soft voice and let it wash over him.

"I'm not sure fun would be the right word, but we had lunch," murmured Kisuke, a touch of wry humor in his voice. "It was informative if nothing else." Ichigo caught the hint of speculation in the blonde's voice and glanced sharply at him, his own ocher eyes meeting glimmering silver eyes and locking. He could almost see the sharp-edged intellect and reached out instantly to brush his fingers against the other man's cheek.

The intensity of those eyes dimmed and affection flowed through them. "Do you really think any of this can work out?" asked Kisuke softly. His voice was filled with doubt and longing and such hopeless confusion that all Ichigo wanted to do was take him in his arms and comfort him.

His fingers gently brushed away a few soft tears, leaning forward and tenderly brushing his lips against Kisuke's in a silent promise. "I have to, because the alternative just isn't worth considering," he murmured softly, resting his forehead against the blonde's

A soft cheek rubbed against his and Ichigo could feel the hints of moisture on it and wanted so much to make things right for the blonde. Slay a dragon, bring him the moon, complete any impossible task if only to wipe the tears from those gray eyes he loved so much and to bring a smile to those soft lips.

"How do you stand it? Knowing what he did, what he was capable of?"

"The Shattered Shaft?" asked Ichigo, earning a miserable nod and Kisuke burying his face against his shoulder. "Why don't I hate him for doing that to me? What exactly am I supposed to hate him for? For giving me the strength to save Rukia? For letting me fight to protect they people I care about?

"For sending you to war. For watching you suffer at the bottom of that pit. For stealing your life and forcing you to take on the burden of my sins..."

"You listen to me," growled Ichigo, his hands on Kisuke's cheeks and forcing the other man to meet his eyes. "I might not have chosen this, but there is not a single thing I would change about my life! I happened to be doing something to make a difference! I have good friend and people I have been honored to know and fight with. Don't you dare try and cheapen that with your silly misplaced guilt," snarled Ichigo.

"Not one thing?" The words were softly spoken but the tone was playfully inquisitive. Pure Urahara.

Ichigo snorted and brushed his lips over the other man's. "Maybe one thing," he murmured. A soft hand brushed his cheek and Ichigo leaned into the touch. He could feel Kisuke's lips a hair's breath from his own and felt the quivering tension that was strung between them. The blonde shivered delicately and somehow the moment broke. Kisuke was blushing and Ichigo could see the goose bumps rising on his arms.

"Here," he murmured fondly, tugging off the old haori that he had been wearing. One of Urahara's old green coats, a little threadbare but still smelling of sandalwood. Ichigo draped the old haori around Kisuke's shoulders and stared for a moment - in the dim light it was really as if it was Urahara sitting there.

Kisuke drew the haori around himself, breathing deeply before smiling, this one a subtle twist of his lips that bespoke his pleasure and amusement. "I remember this," he whispered, just a hint of fear trickling into his voice. Ichigo couldn't help but laugh. He remembered those damned coats but not Soul Society or the people who'd been important to him. It was so blastedly Urahara that he couldn't help but be charmed by it.

"You're laughing at me, Kurosaki-kun," pouted Kisuke and one look at his face proved the words had slipped out completely by accident. He was blushing and looked so adorably lost mouthing the word 'kun' and trying to figure out why he'd said it.

Ichigo chuckled. "Just a little" He caught Kisuke staring at him, studying him and reached out, gently caressing the younger man's cheek. Gray eyes slid closed at his touch, savoring the soft brush, not moving away or startling. The reaction was Urahara's - the joy he took in being touched, the gentle longing for more without the need for words.

When those eyes opened they were molten and filled with unrestrained hunger and longing. "Ichigo," whispered Urahara, for it was Urahara in those eyes, his Urahara.

"Kisuke," he breathed, his voice breaking softly on the name. The distance between them closed, although Ichigo couldn't have said which of them bridged it. All he knew was that soft lips found his as long fingers slid into his hair. He groaned and wrapped his arms around the other man, pulling him closer and tumbling back as the blonde came far more eagerly than he anticipated. He moaned at the long forgotten pleasure of having that body pressed to his. A tongue gently touched his bottom lip and he opened his mouth to let Kisuke inside. Kisuke moaned and kissed him harder, one hand leaving his hair to settle at his hip. Ichigo slid a leg between the blonde's, moaning at the feel of the other man's arousal as it brushed his thigh. The hand on his hip drew him closer and Ichigo rocked his hips against Kisuke's.

Their reiatsu rose and twisted together, hot and sharp, and filled with lust and they both moaned. Red and silver danced around them, merging into a swirling storm of carnelian and cerise. Gray eyes opened and filled with shimmering red as they met glowing silver-blue. Their lips crushed together hard and they kissed each other hungrily.

Soft hands tugged open his robes, caressing his chest and murmuring appreciation. Ichigo moaned, kissing Kisuke harder, his hands slipping to the younger man's ass and pulling him close, grinding against him. "Gods, Kisuke!" he cried, blunt nails lightly scraping his chest before warm lips seized his left nipple, sucking hard. He moaned and pulled Kisuke�s shirt from his pants, tugging it off and tossing the garment away. A groan slid from the younger man and Ichigo kissed him hard and fast, letting his hands clutch and explore that silky back as their hips rocked together.

It was embarrassingly quick really - for both of them - but Ichigo had felt Kisuke stiffen in his arms and groan softly after only a few moments of their bodies rubbing together. And Ichigo had followed him helplessly at the white-hot wash of the blonde's reiatsu over his skin. He wanted to shake his head, coming in his pants like a teenager, but he was simply too happy; awash in the pleasure of his release and the rightness of the person in his arms. "I love you," he whispered softly into silky blonde hair, not even caring if he got the words back, just having to tell Kisuke. The body in his arms stiffened and the next thing he knew, he was being shoved away, Kisuke staring at him with wide, frightened eyes that screamed betrayal at him.

"You don't! I'm not him," said the younger man in a stricken whisper, his whole body trembling. "I'm not him, damn it! And I can't be him! I'm me! Me!" snarled the blonde, tears in his eyes before he turned and fled.

Ichigo closed his eyes and sank to the ground, unable to stand against the black despair that seized his heart. Something deep inside him wanted to curl up and keen at the look that had been in Kisuke's eyes. Fear. Fear of him. The one person in the whole world who had never been afraid of him, who had seen the very worst of him and still held him close � and now he was afraid of Ichigo.
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A Shadow of What Was