Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Shades of Grey	By : SilverKytten Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Urahara/Ichigo Views: 3536 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo; I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement. No profit/money is gained from any of my writing.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9 – Fade to Black
Ichigo nudged a rock off the edge of the school roof, watching shrink away until it met the waiting concrete with a faint, unsatisfying click. The sun was bearing down mercilessly but he really didn't mind, he liked the solitude of the higher elevation. All around him students were scattered across the lawn, sheltered beneath sprawling trees to laugh and eat lunch, all smiles and ease. Ichigo shifted his gaze away, his head falling back as his eyes slid closed, letting the sun wash over him. It was better up here.
The air was quiet; the faint hum of the world below lost to the distance and the drifting breeze. He could almost pretend it had ceased to exist; that all the cares and worries had burned away with it. Peace was a concept he no longer understood, but a life without pain, without a constant, looming threat, was a hope still teasing at his battle-scarred mind. For a time he'd believed it could be found in silence, by pushing life away until nothing could touch him. He'd been wrong, in the end, he realized it now. The demons in his head would never be banished, and wandering in the dark was as brutal as a knife. Still, dragging the others down was a new kind of nightmare, one he'd scarcely fathomed in his headlong rush. It had opened his eyes to a lot of things, actually, and he wasn't really sure he liked what he was seeing.
"Not hungry today?" he asked softly, still watching the glow from behind his eyelids.
"I ate while I walked," Karin replied, stepping up next to him to stare down at the ground.
She was silent for a moment, lost to the world, though Ichigo could feel the agitation coiling around her. She sighed, toeing her own rock over the side without any real interest.
"Everything okay?" He asked quietly, turning to study the top of her head.
"Yuzu had some club meeting," she shrugged moodily, watching a bike coast lazily by. "I got bored, I guess."
His sisters' school was only 10 minutes from his own, but Karin usually preferred the park when she was in a wandering mood. She's been wandering a lot lately. Some days he could feel her out there, a fluttery little disturbance at the edge of his senses, but he left her alone. He understood better than anyone her need to seek solitude, as well as her desire, on occasion, to avoid it.
"How's she doing?" Ichigo sighed, easing out of his jacket and tossing it carelessly aside. "She looked a little down this morning."
"She's upset that she keeps missing dad's calls," Karin muttered, her voice tight with frustration and something undefined. "She's glad he's having fun, but it's been four days and she misses him. She misses home."
"Yeah," Ichigo blew out a rough breath, "I know."
Lying to Yuzu was hard on him, but it was far worse for her twin whom she trusted implicitly. The two of them had always been close, though their relationship was somewhat odd at times, and as the days dragged on each lie that fell from Karin's lips weighed a little heavier on her slender shoulders. She loathed every conversation about what he might be doing, hated smiling through her teeth at the talk of his return. They were winging it hard without any real plan, and a wall was looming in the very near future.
"Conference can't last forever," Ichigo muttered, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. "We'll be fucked in a couple days if we don't come up with something."
He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing at the fatigue settling into his brain. This was yet another example of his short-sighted bullshit coming back to haunt the people in his life. Everything he'd done was because he believed it to be right, but it was getting harder to tell the rage from the reason. The look in his father's eyes still haunted his waking thoughts, dragging the doubt through him normally iron resolve. Isshin had been wrong, of that he was certain; but unfortunately that didn't make him right by default. That was shit rationale, black and white logic, and nothing, it seemed, was ever that simple.
"Fuck him," Karin bit out, dragging him out of his brief reflection. Her jaw was jumping as her teeth ground hard, fingers curling into fists at her sides. "Maybe the train can just crash on the way home."
Ichigo snapped back to attention, caught off guard by the raw bitterness radiating through her voice and rising reiatsu. He knew she was wearing thin, they both were, but there was a darker sort of anger starting to course through the air. Anguish, despair, hatred.
"We can't just say he's dead," he frowned, the thought tearing at him more than he'd expected. "He'll slink back eventually and then it'll go to shit."
She trembled almost imperceptibly, a haunted, searing pain dancing through her eyes before she clamped down hard.
"He's not coming back," she hissed, nails digging deeper into her palms. "All the happy family bullshit fell apart, and now he's gone. It was all just a lie."
She turned away, dashing an arm angrily over her face, and Ichigo realized she was close to tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her cry, and it burned into him to watch her crumble. He suddenly understood that where he'd viewed their father's unexpected silence with a measure of relief, Karin had seen it as a final betrayal. No matter how angry or resolute she'd been, there was a still a part of her that had believed he would always come for them; that it could be like it was when everything was simple. Every hour that ticked by stripped a piece of her faith with it, dragging the last of her broken childhood away. She had believed in her father and he'd failed her, leaving her twisting in the darkening world.
Ichigo's heart ached as he slid an arm around her, pulling her into his chest, holding her tight as she started to shake. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, swaying gently as he remembered his mother doing in the life before pain, when everything was okay.
"I love you," he whispered, wishing she'd never had to know this world. "I'll always love you, no matter what happens."
A sob hitched in her throat as she buried her face in the front of his shirt, her arms snaking around to hold him closer. He ran his fingers slowly though her hair, staring out over the town as her bitter tears seeped through to his skin. Everything in their world was fucked. It was wrong.
He didn't speak; he didn't have to. There were no words to take away all the things that had come before, and they both understood it. He let her cry silently, every tear a reminder of what should have been as it washed hot over him. He would have given anything in that moment to let her be free, even if it robbed him of the comfort of having her at his side. He would have suffered alone for the both of them if fate would permit it; but it wouldn't. It would never be that easy.
This was their lot in life, their path, their cosmic fucking destiny. She had always been his candle in the darkness, a twisted, flickering flame in the ever blurring shadows and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to either of them. Everything that had passed tasted like an ashen mockery of the peace he'd fought and bled for, and as he felt her trembling slowly start to subside he realized that sometimes fate just failed you, and all you were left with were those who suffered beside you. They were your anchor, and he would be that for her. He would be her shelter against the world for as long as he was able, until the final breath fell from his lips. Even if it meant sacrificing everything.
"Fucking pathetic," she mumbled sullenly, pulling back to examine the damage to his shirt.
"Don't talk like that," he admonished, letting his arms fall away to give her space.
She smiled faintly, turning away to wipe her face, and Ichigo realized what had to come next.
"He's just giving us all time to cool off," he muttered, the defense feeling awkward and leaden on his lips. "He'll show up in a couple of days."
She stilled for a second before forcing her body to move, the cover so seamless that he wouldn't have noticed if he didn't know her so well. A tiny spark of reluctant hope being forcibly crushed by residual anger. She couldn't afford hope, not in the face of so much uncertainty.
"What'll you do if he does?" She asked seriously, her reiatsu still stirring the air around them.
"I don't know," he said honestly, "but we'll work something out."
"Is that even possible?" She snorted, deliberately nonchalant as she studied the world below.
"Fuck it," he tossed out, catching her eye as she turned to look at him. "We'll make it possible."
She nodded after a moment's hesitation, but he couldn't tell if she really believed or if she was just humoring him. He'd meant it, for his part; every word. For her sake he would strive to hear the man out, even if it grated on his every nerve to do so. He still didn't trust him, and he didn't know where it would lead, but to never again have to see her tears he would endure a hell of a lot worse than Kurosaki Isshin.
As the residual tension started to fade, Karin took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she ran her hand down her arm. She repeated the same process with the other arm, and Ichigo felt her agitation begin to still, her reiatsu settling back into her body.
"Your control's getting better," he noted, watching the ritual with a degree of interest.
"Yeah, well, Tessai's been teaching me a little Kidou," she admitted quietly, eyeing him covertly to gage his reaction.
"Kidou?" Ichigo looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah." She shrugged, like it was no big thing. "He said it'll help me understand my reiatsu better, so that maybe I can stop flailing it around all the time."
"Probably a good thing," Ichigo agreed, thinking back on the problems his own powers had caused. "It's not dangerous, is it?"
Karin rolled her eyes, giving him a longsuffering look.
"It's Tessai," she reminded him dryly. "It's not like he's gonna cut my chain of fate and throw me in a pit or something."
Ichigo cocked an eyebrow, acknowledging the point. Sometimes he wondered if it had been a mistake to tell her about some of Urahara's more colorful methods. It undermined his credibility at times like these.
"I bound Jinta for a minute and a half yesterday," she continued, her eyes lighting faintly as the pride shone through. "And then I healed the cut he got on his head when he fell after the binding."
Ichigo snorted, lips twitching up at the corners. "I bet he was fucking thrilled."
"He whines less when Tessai gives him the stare," she smirked.
Ichigo shook his head with a chuckle. A part of him wished they could lead a life where his sister didn't even know what kidou was, but there was no going back and it seemed to make her happy to learn.
"Just be careful," he urged, sliding into his big brother role. "It can be pretty dangerous, especially the destruction shit."
"I know," she said softly, wisps of fond longing drifting in her tone. "I've only tried a few of those, but I definitely wouldn't point 'em at Jinta."
His brows pulled gently as he ran an assessing eye over her. "You any good?"
"Tessai says I have natural talent, whatever that means." She turned to watch the clouds, trying to sound like she didn't care, even though he could see the pleasure glowing in her face. "Yesterday I got a 'you truly are Kurosaki Ichigo's sister' out of him."
Ichigo felt his frown deepen at the strange choice of words. He was shit at kidou, having never spent much time with it, so for Tessai to make such a comparison meant he was referring to something else. Feeling faintly apprehensive he carefully unwound a bit of his hollow's reiatsu, reaching out to brush it lightly against her. She went rigid for a moment, jaw snapping shut before she took a breath and let her shoulders relax. She shifted, catching his searching gaze from the corner of her eye. She shook her head, giving him a significant and slightly reproachful look.
"I would tell you," she assured him quietly. "You'd be the first one I came to."
He nodded, withdrawing the reiatsu and slipping his arm back around her. She was two years younger than he had been when he showed his first signs of hollow power. There was a good chance that she would never manifest anything of the sort, but the possibility still remained, lingering below the surface. She was strong, he realized, not for the first time. Her reaction had been due to the foreign nature of the hollow's reiatsu, not from any inherent fear of its power. He smiled faintly. One of these days he was going to have to sit in on one of her kidou sessions.
"You going to be okay getting back to school?" he asked quietly, noticing the first stirring of activity from the world around them. The bell would be ringing soon; summoning him back to class and his make-believe life.
"Yeah," she muttered half-heartedly, glancing at her watch.
He gave her a final squeeze and bent to retrieve his coat, shaking the dust free. She was already halfway across the roof when she paused, staring down at the bag she'd discarded earlier.
"I love you, too, Ichi-nii," she whispered, glancing at him over her shoulder.
He smiled at her, bittersweet and sincere. "I know."
She nodded once and scooped up the bag, disappearing through the door and down the stairs. Ichigo hesitated a moment longer, vowing silently to find her a better life before following her path out of the sunlight.
(*)
"Their silence is unnerving," Urahara murmured, reclining against clay shingles to stare at the washed-out sky.
"Silence may be better than the alternative," his companion countered, opting to stand.
"We both know it's never that simple with the Shinigami," the former captain reminded him with a shrewd look.
Hitsugaya ran a hand through his hair but didn't bother to deny the charge.
"I haven't heard anything to suggest they'll take it further," he sighed instead.
It had been three days since he'd made his report, and two since the Commander General had dismissed him back to the human world. It had gone well, at least so it had seemed. He'd laid out his findings clearly and concisely and had been met with limited questions. The Commander General had seemed favorably inclined toward his opinions on the issue. He had reported back to Urahara with the optimistic hope that everything would be dropped in a matter of hours, and yet silence had persisted.
"Have you considered your position, should things go badly?" Urahara asked calmly, still watching the wisps of cloud pass by overhead.
"You can't ask me to choose sides with this," Hitsugaya's tone was tinged with irritation; "I'm a captain of one of the 13 Protection Squads."
"Your decisions are your own, Toushirou," Urahara said softly, "but sides have a way of forming, despite the best of intentions."
"They won't do it," Hitsugaya insisted, sounding as though he needed the assurance himself.
"It's a line that mustn't be crossed," Urahara agreed without really agreeing, his eyes so cold that even the ice captain felt the chill.
The sound of a door opening broke through their thoughts and they fell silent as the crunch of gravel grew nearer. Urahara sent the young captain one last, piercing look before a flash of movement brought another guest to their party.
"You better not let Yuzu see you up here," Ichigo warned, landing next to them with an easy grace.
Hitsugaya gave him a bored look and went back to his perusal of nothing in particular.
"How was school?" Urahara asked with a lazy drawl, squinting amiably up at him.
Ichigo just frowned, transferring his attention to Hitsugaya. "Have you heard anything yet?"
"No," the captain replied, staring out over the rooftops with an unreadable expression.
Ichigo's frown deepened as he muttered a string of curses, dropping to sit next to Urahara.
"It's probably a good sign," the blond assured him, catching his wrist and dragging him halfway across his chest. "They've most likely dropped the issue already."
Hitsugaya cocked an eyebrow at the comment but Urahara ignored him. He pulled Ichigo a little closer, running fingers through his wind stirred hair and down over the sharp edge of his cheekbone.
"You need to stop worrying about it," he sighed, his brows drawing together faintly. "They were just being ridiculous."
"You're lying," Ichigo sounded tired, shifting uncomfortably against the uneven tiles, "and you're worried."
"They'd be foolish to peruse it further." Urahara murmured, rubbing his nose along the younger man's jaw.
"When the fuck has that ever stopped them?" Ichigo huffed; brushing away the blond strands tickling his cheek.
"They won't do anything," Hitsugaya interjected, lowering himself grudgingly to sit next to Ichigo.
That he'd consented to join them was telling in itself, but for him to do so while they were sprawled in such an intimate position spoke volumes to how frayed his nerves were as well. Ichigo detangled himself from Urahara and rolled onto his back, reclining on his elbows between them.
"Fuck 'em," he said succinctly, staring straight ahead.
"Fuck them?" Hitsugaya asked, shooting him a reproachful look. "How is that constructive, Kurosaki?"
"It seems to be Ichigo's new motto," Urahara supplied, tucking an arm under his head. "I must say, it's starting to grow on me."
"Fuck 'em all," Ichigo repeated with more feeing, amused at having indirectly gotten the young captain to swear.
"I suppose it's better than worrying," Hitsugaya admitted reluctantly, though he still looked dissatisfied.
"Worrying ages you prematurely," Urahara pointed out, as if this should have some bearing on things.
"Must be why you still look so young," Ichigo smirked at the blond.
"Must be," Urahara agreed with a grin that almost reached his eyes.
Hitsugaya just shook his head, drawing a knee up to his chest and crossing his arms over it.
"Seriously, though," Ichigo's mood shifted back toward solemn, "What the fuck is wrong with people lately? First my dad starts giving me shit, then Yoruichi, and now the Shinigami. Why the hell can't everyone just leave me alone?"
"Maybe it's just your winning personality," Urahara offered, striving to keep the mood light.
Hitsugaya made a sound that may have been a choked-off snicker but when Ichigo shot him a look his face was neutral.
"Okay, so I sorta get my dad," Ichigo admitted after a few moments deliberation, "and Yoruichi just bought into his bullshit, but the Shinigami? That's just fucked up."
"It's not personal," Hitsugaya sighed, resting his chin on his arms.
"The hell it isn't," Ichigo bit out, jaw muscles jumping as he warred with his anger, "I gave you everything and it's like it doesn't matter. It's like you think I'm going to be the next fucking Aizen or something just because I won't lick your asses and play nice with my dad."
"No one thinks you're going to be the next Aizen." Urahara rolled over, placing a hand on the younger man's chest.
"That's exactly what they think," Ichigo growled, never looking away from Hitsugaya. "What the fuck more do I owe you people?"
"You know I don't want to be here," the captain replied tersely, turning his cheek against his arms to look down at Ichigo, "I don't like this any more than you do."
"But you are here, Toushirou," Ichigo speared him with a hard look. "You're here spying on me and making reports even though you think it's wrong, just because someone told you to."
"No, I'm here because I volunteered to come, so that I could make sure the issue died," Hitsugaya enunciated slowly and clearly. "And I'm fairly certain it doesn't qualify as spying when you tell the person exactly what's going on."
They held each others gaze for a long moment before Ichigo finally relented.
"Sorry," he sighed, running a hand over his face, "I know it's not your fault and that you're doing what you can. It's just fucked up."
"It is," Hitsugaya admitted freely.
"Be that as it may, you shouldn't let it bother you so much," Urahara insisted, his eyes masked against the tightly wound concerns spinning in his head. "Toushirou's report left no room to escalate the issue."
"You really think they'll drop it?" Ichigo asked, looking back to Hitsugaya.
"They're worried but they're not unreasonable," he replied after a thoughtful pause. "I can't believe they would sacrifice all we've built over an unfounded fear."
"I hope you're right," Ichigo said, his gaze still hard though some of the tension fell away, "for your sakes."
Urahara felt the familiar worry coil with a chill of foreboding. In the space between them, he saw something indefinable pass whisper fast through Hitsugaya's eyes as he continued to stare down at Ichigo.
"Are you afraid, Toushirou?" Ichigo asked quietly, having seen the look as well.
"No," the captain replied, so easily that Urahara almost believed he meant it, "just deciding how to take that."
Ichigo's face had gone blank and even though his gaze was still fixed on the smaller man, Urahara could feel the weight of it in the suddenly still air. Hitsugaya remained quiet and unblinking as though he were being tested but was unsure of the stakes. Finally, after an eternity or a second had passed, the tension broke as Ichigo smirked, rolling his neck to the left.
"Doesn't matter how you take it," he shrugged, "but I'd hate to have to kick all your asses again because you're being fuckwits."
"That would be unfortunate," Urahara agreed dryly, relieved at the shift in mood.
Hitsugaya unfolded himself, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his hands. "Your ego still astounds me."
"You don't think I could do it?" Ichigo shot back at him, eyes narrowed in challenge.
"I think you're an idiot," the captain corrected with a faint snort.
"You know you wouldn't stand a chance," Ichigo dismissed, staring up into the sky.
"I don't believe we've ever fought seriously," Hitsugaya reminded him, looking vaguely thoughtful at the prospect.
"I'd take your ass on my worst day," Ichigo assured him lazily.
There was a beat; a moment in time where the roller-coaster mood could have gone either way, hinged entirely on a simple reply.
"You'd better not be propositioning me," Hitsugaya warned, his lips quirking slightly at the corners.
Ichigo blinked in astonishment, turning slowly to face him.
"Because I assure you," he continued with a smug tilt to his chin, "I'm really not interested."
"What the hell," Ichigo muttered, "you really do have a sense of humor."
Hitsugaya gave him a longsuffering look before returning his attention to the scenery.
"Be careful, Toushirou," Urahara drawled, keeping to the lightness they were so desperately trying to maintain. "He has a certain seductive charm when he really puts his mind to it."
"Trust me, it's not nearly enough," Hitsugaya didn't bother to look at either of them.
Urahara chuckled and Ichigo, who was still reeling over Hitsugaya having a sense of humor, snapped back at the insult.
"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded, staring at the side of the deceptively youthful face.
Hitsugaya, for his part, just continued his study of the world as though he hadn't even heard him.
"Is it 'cause I'm a guy?" Ichigo prodded, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his fist. "Just doesn't do it for you?"
Hitsugaya finally spared a look down at him but didn't take the bait.
"Is it the human thing? Or maybe I'm just too powerful?" Ichigo smirked, warming to the topic. "You can't stand the thought that I really could take your ass anytime, can you?"
Urahara chuckled again when Hitsugaya simply continued to stare at Ichigo as though he were some sort of perplexing lab specimen.
"Perhaps he doesn't find you attractive," Urahara suggested with a true grin.
Ichigo scowled, looking ready to drop it, but froze when Hitsugaya cocked an eyebrow, giving him a brief once-over before shrugging in a cryptically noncommittal sort of way. Ichigo was struck momentarily dumb for the second time in as many minutes. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd fallen asleep at some point and was currently wandering in some fanciful dream. A dream where the young captain not only possessed a subtly refined sense of humor but also managed to exude a sense of sexual awareness that belied his youthful appearance. On the down side, if Urahara's muffled snickering was any indication, should this indeed prove to be a dream it was most likely going to be a nightmare.
"You want to know what it is, Kurosaki?" Hitsugaya's voice had taken on a smooth quality; a sort of dangerous, icy glide.
Ichigo struggled briefly with the almost overwhelming desire to say that he did not, in fact, want to know what it was anymore. He was half convinced that the normally uptight captain had simply cracked under the stress of the last few years, while the other part of him nagged that Hitsugaya had to let his guard down sometimes and that possibly he was catching his first real glimpse. Of those two options, he wasn't sure which he found more disturbing.
Hitsugaya was still staring at him and Ichigo, never one to give up even when it was warranted, rose to the mocking challenge he read in those eyes. He pushed off the tiles, bringing them to near eye level, and cocked his head to one side.
"I'm too tall for you, aren't I?" he taunted.
"No." Hitsugaya actually looked mildly amused.
"Then what?" Ichigo demanded, one brow twitching skyward.
"Well, you were correct when you assumed that I'm not particularly attracted men," he conceded, rolling the word 'particularly' like wine over his tongue. "However, more than that, I find you too immature for my taste."
"Immature?" Ichigo scoffed, "You're one to talk. You look 15 years old on your best day."
Even as he said it he realized it was only true if you didn't look the captain in the eyes. He wondered if he carried that same sense of tempered wear lingering behind his own gaze.
"I don't mean physical appearance," Hitsugaya corrected, a brief flash of teeth catching Ichigo off guard as he smiled. "I mean your general attitude, the way you interact with people, and your need to play these games."
Ichigo's smirk slipped, caught on the pull of some unknown whisper skirting the edge of the flowing banter.
"I'm not playing any games," he frowned, unsure of why he suddenly felt off balance.
"Yes you are," Hitsugaya accused softly, leaning forward to catch Ichigo's chin with slim fingers. "Even if you're not completely aware and it's only in jest."
"I'm only fucking with you." Ichigo caught hold of his wrist but made no move to pull him away.
"Exactly." Hitsugaya's smile danced between them again, a brief flicker with a predatory edge. He leaned forward; tilting his head, his cheek sliding so close that Ichigo could feel the heat pass between them. He applied a firm, coaxing pressure, tipping Ichigo's chin away as soft breath traced along the shell of his ear.
"You should be careful who you fuck with, Ichigo," he whispered, no louder than the passing breeze. "You have a tendency to underestimate people and that can be very, very dangerous."
Behind Ichigo, Urahara sat up slowly, watching them in shrewd, contemplative silence. Hitsugaya locked gazes with him over Ichigo's shoulder and saw something flicker as he caught the words. Beneath his fingers he felt the faintest hint of a tremor along Ichigo's frame before the grip on his wrist tightened, drawing it free.
"You should be careful, too, Toushirou." Ichigo's voice was equally soft, laced with dark honey and tattered silk. His face was still turned, a dark fan of lashes hiding him from their scrutiny.
Urahara tensed subtly and Hitsugaya began to withdraw but Ichigo pulled him back, his other hand rising to slip through snowy hair, holding him in place. Deliberately, fluidly, he turned, nose sliding slow over the flawless skin, drawing back until they were inches apart. Hitsugaya couldn't stifle the gasp that broke from his parted lips as he met that rolling, silver stare, still shadowed beneath half closed lashes.
"I'm not the only one who has a tendency to underestimate people," Ichigo murmured, responding to the warning laced within the play.
His reiatsu slid from its tight coil and Hitsugaya's responded instinctively, though there was no real threat. Clothes fluttered against tense muscle as their power rolled together, whispering unspoken promises and ever darkening memories.
From the depths of the molten silver, Hitsugaya caught a hint of something darker, foreign yet familiar all at the same time. He forced himself to look deeper, and there, lingering in the chaos he found it, the face of their salvation and their greatest fear. He jerked back but Ichigo followed, pressing him into the tile with the weight of his body. Ichigo's free hand slid tingling up his arm, tracing the faint scars that still lingered there.
"Are you afraid, Little Dragon?" Ichigo whispered warm against his skin, the silver giving way to liquid gold and black.
"No," Hitsugaya breathed, hand trembling faintly against Ichigo's chest, pushing without any real force.
His lips parted on a gasp as fingers tightened against his scalp, tilting his head sideways to expose his pale throat.
"You should be," an eerie hybrid voice murmured darkly, teeth flashing wickedly as his head dipped out of sight.
Hitsugaya pulled away sharply, pressing deeper into the tile, though a shuddering little noise rose unbidden to his lips. Before either could respond, before they could even draw breath, an arm snaked between them and Ichigo was gone, hauled back against Urahara in a blur. The former captain pivoted, arching gracefully through the air, slamming Ichigo into the roof as his weight settled atop him. Breathless they stared at each other, uneasy grey-green to simmering gold.
"Relax, Kisuke," Ichigo breathed, leaning in to brush the tips of their noses together. "We're just fucking around."
He blinked, and between one second and the next his eyes faded back to a rich chocolate, though the chiseled edge never left his features. He let his body relax against the one holding him in place, his arms dropping to his sides in a show of mock surrender. Urahara's heart was pounding, reverberating through both their bodies, physical proof of the spike of adrenaline that had passed through him the moment before.
He pulled away, sitting up to straddle Ichigo. His gaze traveled over his face, lingering briefly on his eyes, before shifting to Hitsugaya who was nearly emotionless, save for the pale cast of his skin.
"That was certainly an interesting show," the blond quipped lightly, the tone a heavy contrast to his searching look.
"I owe you an apology for my presumptuousness." Hitsugaya managed a near casual tone, shaking out of his trance under the continued scrutiny of the former captain.
"Excuse me?" Urahara looked genuinely lost, as occurrence that few had ever witnessed.
"It seems that you were correct about certain unexpected charms." His face had lost its ashen hue, a faint dusting of color staining his cheekbones. "I honestly never would have believed it."
"It is quite the phenomenon," Urahara muttered, his gaze turning introspective as he eyed the captain with added interest.
Ichigo folded his arms under his head, a slow, wicked smile blooming as he studied Hitsugaya.
"I told you I could take your ass anytime," his voice rolled liquid smooth, amused and cocky.
"I wouldn't go without a fight," Hitsugaya held out, resettling some of his earlier composure.
Ichigo chuckled. "You're pretty fucked up, Toushirou. You should drop the stick up your ass attitude more often."
Hitsugaya snorted at the suggestion and returned to his earlier contemplation of the scenery, though not before Ichigo caught the faint curve of his lips. The younger man chuckled again, slipping his arms free so he could curl his fingers around the hips still hovering over his own.
"I didn't mean to scare you, Kisuke," he said softly, staring up into the familiar, pale gaze.
Urahara leaned forward, planting his elbows on either side of Ichigo's head, his hair drifting loose around his face. Ichigo craned his neck, arching up to catch him mid breath in a stolen kiss. Urahara's tongue darted out, swiping across his lips as he pressed him back against the tile. Ichigo's mouth opened, inviting and hot, and he moaned faintly as he stared across the distance between. Urahara withdrew, sucking his lower lip for a second longer before releasing him, his breath caressing the tingling skin.
"You don't scare me, Ichigo." He kissed him again, twisting his arm around to thread fingers into thoroughly disheveled hair. "Some of the things you do worry me, and sometimes I wonder if you think things through, but you don't scare me."
Something in Ichigo's eyes softened, the lifting of an unnamed darkness, and the shadow of a tired smile traced over his lips. He shifted against the tile, and Urahara rolled away to let him move. Ichigo stood, dusting himself off slowly. It was all too much sometimes and well meant reassurances could only take him so far.
He was saved from further introspection by a crashing somewhere beneath their feet. Apparently life in the rest of the world was not progressing as smoothly as it might in their absence. Urahara sighed and started to rise but Ichigo waved him off.
"I got it," he muttered, taking a step forward.
"Kurosaki," Hitsugaya called softly and the younger man stilled, glancing back at them from the edge of the roof.
The silence stretched as they studied each other, looking for the answers that nobody had. There was a sad sort of contemplation in the young captain's gaze, and beneath it Ichigo could see a weary resolve starting to stir.
"Ichigo." His voice was quieter still, echoing with the past and seeking a truth he was afraid to find. "What will you do if they come for you?"
Urahara tensed slightly, his agitation slipping free to whisper across their skin.
Ichigo's eyes never left Hitsugaya as he considered the words, realizing that, for the first time in days, his anger didn't leap at the thought. It was the fear that had haunted their waking thoughts, lurking at the edge of every deliberately carefree moment, but hearing it now, without the sugarcoated concern, seemed to strip it of its teeth. The tension fell from Ichigo's shoulders, as a familiar, cool weight settled in his chest. The curve of his lips was like a razors edge as he met Hitsugaya's searching gaze.
"I'll burn them all," he said quietly, without fear or uncertainty, and then he turned, disappearing over the side of the roof.
Urahara let out a tired sigh and turned toward the young captain, who was studying his hands as through lost in thought.
"It's disconcerting," Hitsugaya said finally, his thumb tracing over his wrist as though the tingle of Ichigo's power still lingered. "I haven't seen that look since the war."
"This is all walking a fine and dangerous line." Urahara shook his head, frowning into the distance.
"Do you have much contact with him?" Hitsugaya asked as he rose, glancing at the spot where Ichigo had last stood.
"Occasionally," Urahara said quietly, dragging himself to his feet. "They came to an understanding long ago."
"Is he losing control of him?" Hitsugaya's eyes were like walls of glass when he finally turned to the former captain.
"No," Urahara stared down at him, his own gaze giving nothing away, "It would be far less dangerous if that were the case."
Hitsugaya had no reply as he walked to the edge of the roof and dropped to the waiting ground. Urahara followed more slowly, contemplating the past, the future, and everything between.
Inside, Ichigo seemed to have quelled the rebellion and was moderating a rather passionate discussion between Jinta and Karin. There was a slight difference of opinion between the two over who would prevail in an out and out fight. In the corner, Ururu was helping Tessai collect the wayward pieces of a table lamp, the apparent victim of their prior method of discussion.
"My my, what seems to be the problem?" Urahara drawled smoothly, wrapping an arm around Ichigo and examining the two over his shoulder.
"They're insane," Ichigo summarized, leaning back against him.
"He said that he could protect Yuzu better than I could because he's a guy." Karin rolled her eyes in disgust, lowering her voice to a furious whisper, "which is bullshit because I saved his ass the other day and he knows it!"
"They surprised me," Jinta defended, flushing faintly.
"That's the fucking point, dipshit," Karin rounded on him. "Who the hell schedules an attack?"
Urahara hummed as though this were a fair point, looking back to Jinta for the rebuttal.
"Yeah, well I saved your ass before, too, so don't think I owe you," he huffed weekly.
"You're so full of shit." Karin scowled at him, taking a step forward.
"You two stop that." Yuzu appeared in the doorway, clad in a ridiculous apron and brandishing a wooden spoon. "Karin, you shouldn't say things like that, its naughty, and Jinta, you shouldn't say mean things about girls, it's rude."
She planted her hands on her hips and stared at them both until they dropped their eyes. Satisfied that her maternal duty was fulfilled she broke into a grin, waving to Hitsugaya who was leaning against the wall just inside the door. She pivoted on a bounce and disappeared back into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder that dinner would be in half an hour.
"Well that seems to have resolved itself nicely." Urahara nuzzled the side of the younger man's neck before releasing him. "It's almost like a real family."
"Yeah, if a 13 year old girl is the responsible adult here," Ichigo muttered, though he cracked a slight smile.
Karin had joined Hitsugaya against the wall and was speaking to him in low tones. Ichigo frowned, the memory of sexual awareness in those brilliant, green eyes all too recent in his mind. Karin was railing about something, and Ichigo growled as he saw the young captain roll his eyes, touching her lips softly with the pads of two fingers to forestall the next onslaught. He could see the soft flush rising on her cheeks and he started toward them before Urahara caught him around the waist, pulling him deeper into the room.
"You and your father are remarkably similar in some instances," he mused, brushing his lips over Ichigo's forehead. "What do you really think is going to happen in a room full of people?"
The subject of this observation just snorted but managed to pry his eyes away from the pair. He hooked an arm around the blond's neck and pulled him closer, kissing him lazily and with a lingering slowness.
"Do you mind?" Jinta cut in, smirking up at them from where he'd sprawled on the floor. "You're throwing off my pre-food meditation."
Ichigo pulled back, studying the older man from an inch away. "She did say we have half an hour," he murmured softly, nipping at his chin. "And you owe me a reiatsu lesson."
"I do," Urahara agreed, "but you aren't quiet, and there are quite a few ears present."
"Is that a challenge?" Some of the controlled fire was still lingering in his eyes, shining though the weariness like shimmering coals.
"Possibly," Urahara smirked, looking to forestall the lurking fears.
"Ichi-nii," Yuzu called from the other room, momentarily hampering their plans, "can you bring me the big plate I saw in there?"
"Sure, Yuzu," Ichigo called back, leaning in to trace Urahara's ear with his tongue. "You stay here," he whispered.
The blond chuckled, leaning against the wall in a show of obedience. Ichigo slipped away, casting about briefly before spotting the requested item gracing a table in the corner of the room. He scooped it up, wiping away a spot of dust with his shirt as he crossed the floor.
He was stepping through the doorway, following the sweet tune Yuzu was humming, when the first tickle at his senses gave him pause. He turned, catching the ripple of awareness as it passed through the room. Urahara pushed off the wall, his eyes sharp and across the room Karin and Hitsugaya fell silent. There was a reiatsu approaching fast, masked but leaking as though under enormous strain. Agitation. Rage. Fear. It was recognizable, easily identifiable, and Ichigo saw Hitsugaya's expression close down.
There was a crash and Ichigo spun, reiatsu flaring in defense as the door flew open. Matsumoto gripped the frame as she sagged, smearing a streak of blood across the pristine white wall. Hitsugaya started forward but she snapped back up, her eyes darting around the room to lock on Ichigo.
"You have run," she gasped, blood welling between the fingers clutching her side. "They're coming. They've mobilized 5 divisions and they're attacking anyone who gets in the way."
The plate slipped from Ichigo's fingers but he didn't even notice when it shattered against the floor, pelting him with glittering shards. Something twisted inside him, sharp with pain and betrayal, flaring bright. He wanted to be angry, wanted to feel that sense of outrage burning through his veins but there was only an icy numbness and a vast, inexplicable loneliness.
- 8
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Shades of Grey