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The Fairy Prince	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 3401 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
CHAPTER 9: THE TRUTH CONTINUED
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
Toshiro sat in the dimly lit, musty basement of the home he'd shared with his uncle, mouth hanging open and heart performing on a trapeze. His throat was dry as peeling skin, making it hard for him to swallow. He was seated at his uncle's old work desk, perusing the books he'd already seen probably more than a million times, but this time, there was something that had caught his eye that he'd never seen. Or rather had never paid much attention to, thinking he wouldn't recognize the fading name.
Toshiro had opened the book on Faery that morning, ready to do heavy research, when he'd decided to go over every inch of it, leaving nothing unturned, nothing unexplored. He started with the inside of the front cover, wiping away dust and trying to decipher the name written in an elegant script. All he saw was Y-M-O-T-O.
He supposed he should have guessed from there, considering how much of a fanatic his uncle had been, but after a little scratching aside dust and old dirt particles, the name finally revealed itself, leaving him a quivering pile of thunderstruck.
His uncle had been the author of the book.
He didn't quite know how to handle that bit of information. For one, it meant the book wasn't as old as he'd once thought and two, how was he supposed to differentiate what was truth and what was fiction? Had his uncle made everything up? Had the man really been crazy? Or did Faery really exist?
Toshiro massaged his eyes with his fingertips and let out a slow sigh. He also had to account for what he'd seen the night before. There was no way a human male could throw other human males from himself single-handedly. And Toshiro meant that to be quite literally.
So, if what his uncle had written about was in fact true, how did he know about the Fae and Faery to begin with? It was much too baffling and it wasn't like he could just ask the man for answers, since he was dead and gone. Not to mention, his uncle had been the only family he'd known, the man raising him from the age of five. He vaguely remembered a dark-haired woman with eyes like his, but she resided in the very furthest recesses of his mind.
Toshiro huffed in frustration and glanced around the basement that was no larger than a sitting room. There were piles upon piles of books, covered in dust and propped up against the walls, or just stacked in the middle of the gray, cement floor. After Yamamoto-san had passed, Toshiro had never taken the time to go through his things and get rid of the unnecessary, or keep the essential. He couldn't tell the difference, by reason of the man treating every last one of his possessions like they were the most flawless diamonds.
For once during his eye-search of the room, Toshiro noticed a strange-looking, black trunk in the corner. It had been hidden by a few piles of books that had managed to topple over. He'd probably knocked them over while he'd been searching for something. Frowning, he rose from the navy blue, cushioned rolling chair and carefully made his way to the trunk. He squatted down beside it and studied it, frown deepening as he realized there was something written on the lid. It must have been a different language because, for the life of him, he couldn't make out what it said. He had never seen anything like it before, either.
He pulled a white handkerchief from his back pocket and used it to wipe away a thin layer of dust that had been coating the lid. There was a latch, but it didn't appear to be locked. It must not be very important if his uncle hadn't even bothered to lock the thing. Then again, his uncle's memory had been quite scarce in his last few months of living. He'd probably opened it and forgot to lock it up when he was done.
Toshiro shrugged and lifted the latch, a puff of dust floating upwards, causing him to lean his head to the side in order to dodge it. The hinges creaked as he drew back the lid, but instead of the musty smell he'd been expecting, the inside of the trunk smelled sweet and fresh. Like a meadow in the Spring. He peered inside and his eyes widened upon seeing nothing but filmy white. He reached a hesitant hand inside and pulled the white material aside, gasping softly when it slid over his fingers like watery silk.
He tugged gently and held the whisper soft cloth into the air, marveling at its consistency. It was a white dress, but he had never encountered that kind of fabric in his life. In fact, he was almost positive that it hadn't been made by any human. Then, there was the smell. What had once been a light and airy fragrance was now stronger, almost like a seductive perfume. Toshiro didn't want to toss the dress on the floor, so he stood and carried it to his uncle's old desk, where he carefully draped it over the top, then stood back to take another look at it.
It was long and scooped low in the front. The material of the petticoats was silver and of the same satiny cloth, just more sheer than its outer layers. In short, the dress was quite beautiful and Toshiro was sure that whoever had worn it, had been of equal beauty.
He went back to the trunk and let his eyes roam the contents. He didn't know what to make of a small, circular object. It was a sphere around the size of a baseball, but it was clear and filled with a silvery, glittering sand. He touched it and jumped back, startled when he registered the warmth. It felt like someone had been keeping it in their pocket and had just removed it to let him hold it.
When he realized nothing would happen from him handling it, he reached inside and picked it up, turning it over gently in his palm. It was indeed warm, yet the casing felt like a thick layer of glass. He didn't understand it and he certainly didn't know what the hell it was.
He placed it back inside the trunk and moved to the next item his eyes had passed over. It appeared to be a simple teddy bear, but the clothing was strange and one of the onyx-colored eyes were missing. The bear was gray and wore a crimson robe, a wheat-colored rope tied around its waist. A longer, white robe was worn over the crimson one, but left open.
When he picked up the bear, an overwhelming sense of nostalgia crashed over him and left him gasping for air as he dropped it. He literally felt as if he'd been drowning. He clutched his chest and stared down at the seemingly harmless bear.
What the hell had that been?
Going against his better judgment, he reached for it again and this time brought it up to his nose. The smell emanating from it reminded him of those old cigars his uncle used to smoke, until he'd made him quit. It was less potent, but just as rich. Then, without warning, he felt like his very soul had been jerked roughly, but left to settle back inside his body. He gasped and blinked away the sudden onslaught of tears gathering in his eyes.
His vision blurred, the basement faded away and suddenly, he was in a stark white room, where there was nothing but a high-backed, wooden chair. Everything was white, from the floor to the ceiling and it confused him. He was seated on the floor, still clutching the bear, when a woman appeared out of nowhere, seated in the wooden chair. More like she shimmered into existence, like a smoke apparition.
Toshiro felt his eyes go wide as he stared at the woman seated in the chair. She seemed faintly familiar and was watching him in amusement, her large, aqua eyes warm and loving. She had the longest, darkest hair he'd ever seen in his life. It was so dark, it shone and seemed to flow like a black river, cascading over her shoulders to hang down to the pristine floor, where it pooled in a silken pile. Her skin was pale as porcelain and her full lips were pink and curved into a kind smile. She had dainty hands that were folded in her lap and the long, silver gown she wore, gathered around her equally dainty feet in an elegant mound.
"Hello, Toshiro," she greeted, her voice what Toshiro thought angels sounded like.
With wide eyes he replied, "H-hello."
She grinned and brushed a stray strand of that lustrous, inky hair behind a...pointed ear. Toshiro jerked like he'd been kicked. "You're all grown up, now," she said softly.
He frowned, his eyes swiveling to take in his surroundings before giving the ethereal woman his full attention again, "How do you know me?" he queried.
Her smile widened and displayed two rows of perfectly straight, sparkling, lily-white teeth, "I see my father didn't tell you the truth before he went to the Resting Life," she commented. Toshiro was beyond baffled, so he chose to remain silent. Luckily, the woman went on, "Genryuusai Yamamoto was my father and you, my dear boy, are my son."
He blinked. His mouth seemed to drop open in super-slow motion, his gut easing its way towards his knees. "What?" His voice didn't even sound like his own; it seemed more fitting for a mouse. "I-I don't...Yamamoto-san was my..." his voice trailed off as he tried to digest what he'd just been told.
It didn't make sense. None of it. He openly stared at the beautiful woman claiming to be his mother, mind refusing to work properly. He couldn't seem to piece together the mishmash his thoughts had become and it was starting to frustrate him. Yamamoto-san had been his uncle, not his grandfather.
Then again...Yamamoto-san had been rather old to be an uncle, unless he was a great-uncle, but the man had only ever referred to himself as Toshiro's uncle. Not great-uncle and certainly not grandfather.
Forcing himself to speak, he said, "Why wouldn't he tell me something as important as that? Why don't I remember-" he stopped himself as his eyes again widened, threatening to pop right out of his head.
He did remember her, but just barely. She was the woman that his mind pictured from all those years ago; he just didn't remember her ears being pointy. If he concentrated really hard, he was able to recall being tucked into bed by the dark-haired woman before him. She had kissed him and told him she loved him, then stuck a stuffed toy beside him for him to snuggle through the night.
He glanced down at the bear in his hands and gasped so quietly, it was almost inaudible. The woman must have heard him because he could practically hear her smile when she said, "That's your Hyorinmaru."
He gave the stuffed toy another look and frowned. He kind of remembered something along those lines. Tearing his eyes away from the bear, he stared the woman down. They did have the same eyes and nose; even their mouths were the same. Not to mention, he remembered her from his childhood, even if it was only vaguely.
"What are you?" he blurted. His brain-mouth filter had fallen by the wayside as he studied the angelic woman. She was so beautiful, it was almost hard to look at her.
"My name is Lunera and I am what is in your heart, Toshiro. I can feel that you know of the Fae. Don't deny what you know to be true," she stated and her voice carried like a heavenly song.
Toshiro was numb, no longer able to feel astonishment. If he followed his instincts, then he would have to believe that this woman was, not only a fairy, but also his mother, which made him at least half fairy. "Why didn't Yamamoto-san tell me about any of this? I don't understand," he muttered, unable to meet her warm gaze, for fear of finding pity or sympathy. He didn't need to feel even more helpless than he already did.
"I believe he wanted to keep you safe. There are things happening in the Fae world that would have put you in danger, had your true identity been revealed," she answered and he chanced a glance in her direction.
Relief poured over him when he saw her watching him with a neutral stare. "What things?" he inquired. Was that why the Elorian prince was in this dimension?
Her bright eyes flashed and her brow furrowed for once. It did nothing to detract from her awesome beauty. "There are rogue Fae trying to destroy their own kind. It's despicable and horrendous. The entire Elorian clan was wiped out, including the king and queen. Such a sad time," she mourned, her lips turning down in the corners and tears glistening in her eyes.
Toshiro opened his mouth and closed it. That answered the question of why the Elorian prince was in this dimension. Still...what did that mean for his people? For the Fae in general? If he remembered correctly, there were no other survivors after the fall of the Eieren clan and The Great Betrayal had taken care of the Roande clan twenty years ago. Hadn't it?
Wait...
"Um," he paused, unsure of how to address the woman. Did he call her mom or Lunera? "How do you know what's happening? Where are you? Where are we now?" he continued, eyes darting around the vast whiteness surrounding them.
She gave him a gentle smile and beckoned him closer with a wave of her tiny hand. Figuring he had nothing to fear from this woman, he edged closer, still on his knees and came to stop right in front of her. "This is a spell my father created for me before I went to the Resting Life. He was very gifted with things of that nature and he also had visions. Perhaps that is why he didn't bother to tell you the truth of your heritage," she spoke, her voice loosening the tense muscles across his shoulders. "He knew that I would leave for the Resting Life before he would, so he made sure that I would be able to see my son again afterward." She reached out a hand and ran it through his bang, her skin soft as feathers. "In the Resting Life, we are able to see both dimensions equally, meaning, we can be wherever we want in both worlds. Do you understand that?"
Toshiro nodded, unwilling to interrupt the lull her voice created. She smiled again and continued passing her hand through his hair. The actions comforted him and he found himself leaning forward to rest his head on her knee.
"This is how I'm able to see and know what is going on in both worlds. I also want you to know of your true heritage and...and of your father," her voice had tapered off into a whisper at that last statement.
Toshiro's ears twitched like a feline's as he turned luminous eyes upwards to focus on...his mother's...face. He had always wondered who his parents were. All he'd known was that they both had died while he was young. "Who is he? Is he human?" he quizzed.
She frowned and shook her head slightly, "No. He is Fae as well."
The declaration dropped like a large stone in a pond.
What?
"B-but that's not possible!" he exclaimed. "My ears...I'm not..." he trailed off, puzzled, his eyebrows cinched together.
His mother ran her hand through his hair again and sighed, the noise light and airy. "My father has much to answer for when I return to the Resting Life," she commented exasperatedly before continuing with, "Your father does not know of your existence. My father and I left our world after The Great Betrayal and I lost contact with him. W-we were meant to be married, but..." she paused and Toshiro noticed tears gliding over her cheeks. The sight was alarming. He didn't think anyone that beautiful should be made to cry.
"I'm sorry," he uttered, not really sure what he was even apologizing for, just knowing that he didn't like seeing his mother that way.
How easy it was to refer to her as his mother now.
She chuckled and put a hand to his brow, "You need not apologize, Toshiro. You did nothing wrong, my love. It's just painful to remember the ruination of our clan and then my separation from your father. I would have loved for him to have met you," she said wistfully.
Toshiro quirked his lips in thought. He wondered what his father looked like. Did they resemble one another? Was the man where Toshiro's ghostly white hair had come from? He gave his mother another look, "What was his name?"
A nostalgic grin pulled her full lips upwards, "Jyuushiro. Jyuushiro Ukitake. He was a very handsome man," she answered softly.
"Jyuushiro," he repeated, liking the way it rolled from his tongue.
"Yes. Speaking of your father, Toshiro. I have a mission for you, if you think you can handle it," she said, her tone teasing.
He tossed her a genuine smile and arched a snowy brow, "Of course, I can. I'm your son, after all."
Her shoulders and back straightened and her chest thrust forward in pride, "Good. You need to take a message to the Elorian prince. I know that you have seen him and have been tracking him. He and his comrades are in extreme danger. The fairy responsible for the fall of his people has found a way to come to this dimension and will be here soon. You have to warn him. Can you do this?" she urgently asked, her eyes glowing.
Toshiro felt his heart swell with honor. He was immensely proud to be in charge of such a task. He just hoped they would listen to him. "It would help if I actually looked like one of them," he mumbled, unaware that he'd spoken aloud until his mother's charming laughter filled his ears.
"But you already do, love. Once I was able to touch you, I released the cloaking spell your grandfather placed on you."
Toshiro knew his eyes were the size of eggs, but it had come as a shock to hear that. He reached up and felt the tips of his ears, marveling at the points. He really did resemble them now. He was still a bit confused, but he figured things would work themselves out in the long run. He frowned when he felt the air thickening and shimmering before him.
"I must go now, Toshiro. Do remember to warn the prince and maybe his friends can take you to see your father," his mother stated, her voice fading like the end of a song.
His heart rate quickened and he reached out to grab her, but she was gone, leaving his hands grasping nothing but air. Her last statement had completely thrown him for a loop. Did she mean his father was still alive? Before he had a chance to analyze her words, the white room fell away and he was back in the basement of the home he'd grown up in, still clutching Hyorinmaru.
Toshiro took a moment to gather his bearings before he tucked the stuffed toy and white dress back into the trunk. He rubbed his hands together, mind still trying to wrap itself around all that he'd been told. He would have to dwell on the situation a bit later. Right now, he had a job to do.
XOXOXO
Ichigo shoved his legs into a pair of turquoise pajama pants, then pulled a plain, white tee over his head. He was in his bedroom, wondering why there seemed to be yet another fairy in his living room. Urahara had been talking with a tall, silver-haired fairy, whose eyes didn't appear to be open and whose grin was far too wide for his face. He wore long, magenta robes and black, armored boots.
Ichigo wasn't even surprised anymore at the turn of events. More like he was merely curious.
He was standing in front of his closet, the door open as he changed. He didn't realize he had a visitor until strong arms wrapped around his waist and a warm body pressed against his back. He grinned, already knowing who it was holding him close as he leaned back a bit, his hands coming up to settle along the tanned forearms along his diaphragm.
"Ichigo," the familiar, deep voice stroked his ear, "kiss me again."
Ichigo felt his face ignite as he slowly turned to face the taller, blue-haired man. Grimmjow stood behind him, his hands falling to Ichigo's hips and ultramarine eyes intensely desirous. Ichigo grinned through the sudden surge of shyness enveloping him and slowly slid his arms around Grimmjow's strong neck. He lazily ran his fingers through feathery blue locks and sighed, wondering how he had won the attention of such an alarmingly stunning creature. "Ok," he murmured absently, a warm and gooey feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and constricting his chest.
He connected their lips and was instantly engulfed in flame. Not only that, but his heart slammed against his ribs in rapid succession as an emotion he was unfamiliar with surrounded him and made him wonder what the hell it was. Grimmjow gave an airy groan, his hands tightening on Ichigo's hips as he pressed his long body closer. Ichigo took the initiative and pried Grimmjow's mouth open, then gently drove his tongue inside. Their tongues interlaced and raveled, aggression levels gradually rising and heightening their senses. There wasn't even a hairsbreadth of space left between them and Ichigo could feel the accelerated pounding of the other man's heart against their aligned chests.
Grimmjow was warm and solid, his smell was soothing and arousing and his taste was intoxicating, better than any alcohol. Even though Ichigo had to stand on his toes some, he thoroughly enjoyed kissing Grimmjow and the thought of the blue-haired man being a mythical individual resided far far away, in the very corner of his conscience.
The kiss was wet and loud, the smacking noises filling the otherwise silent room. Ichigo was on fire, every nerve sensitive and anxious. He could feel Grimmjow's arousal against his hip and it made his lust spike pointedly. He wanted Grimmjow to fill him to the brim with more than just his sex.
He wanted the other man's heart as well.
The thought bowled him over and made his own heart seize with astonishment and fear. Had he really just thought that? Why would he want Grimmjow's heart?
The unsettling direction of his thoughts made him break the kiss and just as he did so, there was a quiet knock at the open door. Ichigo flinched and withdrew his arms, glancing at the door nervously, wondering who had caught him and Grimmjow kissing.
Neliel stood in the doorway, gray eyes wide, "I-Ichigo, there's...there's someone here for you," she stated quietly, shifting her stance.
He sighed and gave Grimmjow a wary look. He hoped it wasn't Renji and from the expression on the blunet's face, he had to be thinking along the same lines. Grimmjow wore a scowl as he stared down at Ichigo. It seemed like he wasn't even registering the presence of his little sister and if he was, he didn't care that she'd just seen them kissing like a pair of lovers.
Grimmjow had his head cocked to the side as he studied Ichigo. Ichigo didn't know what was going on inside the man's head, but he was curious and a tad unsure of the look he was receiving. Through all of that, the haze of lust still circulated strongly in his blood and he still wanted to kiss Grimmjow. Hell, he wanted to do much more than kiss him and he wanted the man to do much more than kiss him back.
Ichigo sighed and ran a hand over his face as he turned his focus back to the green-haired girl in his doorway. "Did they give a name, Nel?" he asked.
She shook her head, "No. B-but, Ichigo, he-he's very strange," she stuttered and her nervousness made him inquisitive.
"What do you mean?"
"He's one of-"
"King!" a voice shouted from Nel's right, making her flinch and glance at the being cautiously.
Ichigo groaned, knowing exactly who his visitor was. He'd forgotten he had told the annoying albino to come by, so they could work on an assignment that was due the next day. He hoped Grimmjow didn't take the man's presence the wrong way. He certainly wasn't interested in Shirosaki that way and would make his blue-haired house guest aware of it.
Shirosaki swaggered into Ichigo's bedroom wearing a white, short-sleeved polo, blue jeans and black flip flops. He also carried a black sword case on his back and Ichigo screwed up his face. He didn't know Shiro was into swords.
"King! Ya fergot ab-" the albino's loud, boisterous voice died as he locked gazes with a bristling Grimmjow. His strange eyes widened a fraction before he caught himself and his face returned to its normal amused expression. "Didn' know ya had guests, King," he commented in a nonchalant manner, but Ichigo had already seen the shock that had been clearly written across his features for all of two seconds.
"Yeah, they're um...friends of mine and Shinji's. Let's go in the kitchen and get started. I'll be there as soon as I grab my stuff," Ichigo diverted.
He ignored the look of sheer skepticism he received from Shiro as he turned to his closet and dug around in the back for his backpack. "Yeah, ok," Shiro answered and Ichigo waited until the sound of footsteps died down before he turned to face Grimmjow, who was still standing in the middle of the bedroom, thick arms folded across his chest.
"Who's that?" he grunted, baritone voice gruff and agitated.
Ichigo shook his head exasperatedly, "He's my classmate. I forgot I promised to help him with an assignment today," he muttered, upset at his time with Grimmjow being interrupted.
Grimmjow was strangely silent for a minute, but a low growl soon erupted from his chest, "Does he like you, too?" he finally grumbled.
Ichigo grinned and slowly made his way over to the annoyed man. He reached up and pulled Grimmjow down to eye level, using the back of his neck, "No, but even if he did, it wouldn't matter. I like you," he responded before he took the time to gently press their lips together.
He stepped back, satisfied with the crooked smile gracing Grimmjow's exquisite features. He didn't wait for a response as he left the bedroom, knowing full-well that he would be followed into the kitchen. He just hoped Shirosaki didn't do anything to piss off the blue-haired man.
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The Fairy Prince