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The Forgotten Love	By : Snowway32 Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1457 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters there within, it all belongs to Kubo Tite. This is purely written for my own pleasure, I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-The Forgotten Love
- 1
Thank god, just in time. I thought I'd never get this one out! It took forever to work out this plot and then I started having way too much fun writing Ichigo in the haunted house. And Shiro, that I confess, was way more fun that writing Ichigo. And then I couldn't decide anymore what was more fun and it started becoming tedious but it's finally done my honeys!

I'm so glad; this one became painful to write I must admit because I was rushing a bit. But I hope that it doesn't reflect in my work. Anyhow, I have some happy news. It's Halloween, my favourite day of the year. Also, this is the 3rd in my 3 Halloween Hichi x Ichi 2013 Story Collection. So my Halloween Collection in finally all done.

Let's round them up:

Daddy's Little Demon (Multi-chap fic) posted first

Strawberry Panic (Multi-chap fic) posted second

The Forgotten Love (One-Shot) posted third

I have done for Halloween this year, a little Demon Shiro, a Gender Bent Ichigo and a Vampire Shiro, Innocent Ichigo student. Well, not entirely innocent as you'll see. So here comes the warning for this one-shot, please heed them now.

This is a mature YAOI fic. Meaning that there will be M/M lemons, lots of blood, some violence, blood play and a very nonchalant Shiro about hurting Ichigo. Also a bit of dub-con and Vampire Shiro. This is a Hichigo x Ichigo centric pairing, if that puts you off then please do not read any further.

For now, I'll leave my honeys to enjoy and happy Halloween my lovelies. I'll see you at the end of the chapter.

The Forgotten Love

Late one chilly autumn afternoon, deep within the darkened and pregnant sky that was spread stiflingly across the outskirts of Karakura Town, a sheet of heavy rain abruptly and unexpectedly burst forth from the clouded heavens. Bringing into existence cold and large drops of water that swelled out vastly across a labyrinth of red, yellow and brown maple trees, open fields of withering grass and a lone, traditional Japanese mansion that had been abandoned for almost a hundred years upon the long forgotten estate grounds that had once belonged to a noble family. The dark and heavy precipitation, falling unevenly but undeniably heavy from the sky, captured a stray orange haired student artist, sketching the once beautiful but now wild gardens of the home, off guard at its abrupt intensity and haunting touch that soaked through his clothes to caress tanned skin in mere seconds.

Bright and messy orange locks, descending artfully into frowning chocolate brown eyes, plastered irritably across a smooth forehead as Kurosaki Ichigo sighed softly in annoyance at the now completely ruined drawing resting upon his propped up thigh. Charcoal was smearing in running tears across the once detailed page to stain the tips of his fingers, an uncontainable shiver chasing across tanned skin at the icy coldness that was beginning to seep into his blood as he swiped away the splay of sticky orange strands that was clinging to his forehead stubbornly. Black nailed fingertips, done so as a joke by his University roommate Renji, absently brushed against an array of four black loop earrings that were settled in the curve of his right ear shell. A single black stud, in the opposite ear, was pinned in the lobe as Ichigo licked his rain wet lips softly.

A bold silvery ring peeking out at the world for only a second from a pink tongue before it disappeared into his mouth again; the sudden howling wind forcing Ichigo to shut his sketchbook with a decisive snap just as a bright blue lightning bolt erupted distressingly throughout the clouded atmosphere. Contemplative dark brown orbs were gazing absently up at the darkened sky above him; a deep warning rumble of echoing thunder startling the orangette into resettling a warm black coat across his shoulders quickly. The long sleeves of his tight dark green shirt was brushing the backs of his hands, a silvery spiked bracelet tracing around his left wrist softly as Ichigo shivered at the abrupt cold that was chasing across his skin. His warm coat, it probably wouldn't even help him in this situation. The rain was so thick and heavy that the orange haired student was completely soaked in seconds; all he could do to protect himself now was to pull his forest green scarf tighter around his neck and hope to find some sort of shelter for the time being.

Damn it! Ichigo cursed abruptly, his luck had been waning as of late. Even the weather report that Thursday morning had said that there would be no rain despite some cloudiness in the sky. And if he didn't finish the preliminaries of his project today, Ichigo was going to be late in submitting his work. Something that he couldn't afford to happen, especially with him being the top art student of his year. So much was expected of him in this small town, if he messed it up now he could lose his scholarship and would be forced to return to Tokyo. Something that Ichigo did not want to happen just yet. He enjoyed his time in this sleepy little town; it was his birthplace before they had moved to the big city for his high school years after all. His childhood friends Renji and Rukia were here with him and so was his mother's grave; the one place besides this forgotten mansion that Ichigo liked to visit whenever he got the chance.

So what was he supposed to do now? It was raining so hard that he could barely even see the twisting pathway that would lead him towards the main road and to the place where his car was parked. And if he couldn't see where he was even going, then surely Ichigo would get lost in the labyrinth of maple trees that completely surrounded the estate so thickly. The twenty-year-old student was truly stuck in this abandoned place, a thick and dense fog was also starting to ascend from the heavens where the only option Ichigo had left was to find shelter in the abandoned mansion behind him before he could get sick and his sketches truly disintegrated into nothing. But would he dare it? Would he dare to step foot in the sacred ground that had been luring him here for nearly all his life?

The stories that swirled around this part of Karakura, especially this once beautiful traditional home were frightening enough on their own.

But what was worse was that it was the 31st of October that day, the famed day of All Hallows Eve where the veil that separated the living and the dead was said to be the thinnest. Well, only if Ichigo was to believe his little sisters insistence on celebrating a western holiday so religiously every year. He saw ghosts all the same though, creatures that were not meant to be seen and monsters that had descended into utter madness with holes in their chests. It was a gift he supposed, well rather a curse, that he had inherited from his dead mother but whether the frequency of their appearance and hauntings increased on this day specifically, Ichigo didn't know. He didn't pay much attention to them, they were just passing spirits looking for something they had lost or held some form of regret. They were not his problem.

So far however, despite the claims that this house was haunted, Ichigo had not seen a single ghost lingering here...well except for that one day. And even then Ichigo wasn't so sure that it had been a ghost. It had been a day just as murky and rainy as this one, where Ichigo had only briefly glimpsed a beautiful being with a lithe, tall stature, porcelain white skin, haunting snow white locks that descended down a tall back to brush thin hips as it danced and fluttered in the brush of the wind and sheer golden eyes bathed in a sea of black sclera that were sharp and deeply saturated with despairing sorrow. A darkened sorrow so deep and painful to see that Ichigo, only nine at the time, still remembered crying softly in his mother's skirts for the tall man's sake after that. Those striking eyes, which had gazed at Ichigo from the wraparound porch of the very same abandoned mansion, still burned searingly hot into Ichigo's memories today.

He, the being Ichigo was sure was a he despite the flowing kimono of black silk he had worn, had smiled ruefully at young Ichigo after that. A false smile of a terrifying mask however, had all too soon clouded those beautiful golden eyes in a glimmer of insanity as it had curled in a deadly smirk across pale lips, sliding into place irrevocably as the long white haired ghost's entire form had ignited near silver beneath the flowing light of a full moon. He had simply vanished into nothing mere seconds later, leaving little Ichigo and his mother completely bewildered at the display and his already forgotten presence. They had never spoken about it after that, never gotten the time to as on that specific night, of all the possible nights that year, it had been the last that Ichigo had been able to walk side by side and hand in hand with his mother beneath the moonlight.

When they had crossed the shrine next to the dilapidated mansion on their way home, it had all turned into a deep and painful nightmare for the orange haired student. Because that night, the night that Ichigo forbid himself to speak about now, his mother had died trying to protect him from the increased violence the local gangs had taken against Karakura's innocent residence. His child-like innocence and happy smile had been stolen by the blood that had been shed that day, even though Ichigo did not remember much of attack. But when he had come to, the streets had been bathed in flowing rivers of still warm blood. His father and the authorities had always thought that he had passed out from a blow to the head, but how he had survived what had killed all the others, they did not know.

But one thing that Ichigo did know was that the entire group that had attacked him and his mother had been torn to pieces by some sort of wild animal that night, or a deranged supernatural being that had swept through the gangs' ranks to mercilessly tear them apart little by little and made them suffer in absolute fear before death had finally come. Ichigo could still vaguely remember waking up to his mother's body lying protectively across his form. There had been a deep gash in her back but it had been a gunshot wound in her chest that had killed her...from the very men that had attacked them first.

As it was however, out of all the swirling, confusing memories that sometimes came back in little bits and pieces of sorrowful dreams, Ichigo could only remember two set things that had transpired. The first was the soothing peace and calm he had felt when he had seen that white haired being and the utter terror he had woken up to after the ringing sound of a gun going off. They were not all pleasant memories for him but Ichigo still found himself returning to this place almost every day; continuously seeking out the calming presence that seemed to cling to the abandoned mansion's walls and grounds so irresistibly. He chuckled deeply in thought though, tugging his coat closer around his form as he started making his way towards the abandoned home he had promised himself he would never intrude upon without permission.

Everyone thought he was crazy to come here, constantly asking him if he wasn't afraid of the evil that lived in 'that' house but Ichigo just brushed their concern aside. To him, there was a sacred presence that lived here. A soothing balm to his soul that sought to protect him whenever he came close. It was a heady comfort to return to and somewhere in the back of his mind, Ichigo was so sure that the spirit, being, creature...whatever it was that he had seen that night, was still here. He just had to find him again. But after having come here for nearly two years, during both days and nights, Ichigo had yet to see a glimpse of him again. He did not dare to step foot into the abandoned mansion however, there was always something that kept him lingering outside.

Now, despite his clear misgivings, Ichigo was going to have to break the unspoken promise that he kept with himself. The threatening rumble of another clap of thunder urging the orangette onwards; brown eyes critically observing the pathway that was overgrown with dead roses and long forgotten plants that may once have been magnificent. The instant that his feet made contact with the threshold of the home, seeking to follow the stairs that would lead him onto the wraparound porch and towards the shelter of the long dipping eaves created out of faded red, crumbling paint and sliding tiles, Ichigo stilled momentarily. Desperately trying to brush aside the touch of fear that ignited within his heart and a shaky breath that spilled past his parted petal pink lips unbidden of his permission.

This home, it was astoundingly beautiful even in its dilapidated state, but a deep and dark presence seemed to penetrate into its foundations. It hung over it like a darkened cloud that couldn't be dispersed. The odd sensations of uncomfortable emotion it created, skittered coldly across Ichigo's skin as he swallowed heavily. His elegant fingertips tightening their grip on his sketchbooks as he shakily reached out his free hand to lay his fingertips across the edge of the shoji door that would lead him inside the main foyer. An instinctual whisper of a warning echoed loudly within his mind however, brown eyes clenching shut at the sudden billowing wind that sought to knock him off his feet. A clear and undeniable uncertainty was entering his wavering heart as the orangette eventually, after having found the will and courage within him, wrenched open the creaking sliding door firmly. Bracing himself against the scent of rotting wood, dust and something else he couldn't quite place, that sought to engulf him whole.

Ichigo shuddered deeply at the sensations, respectfully placing his black and white sneakers by the entranceway as he bowed uncertainly to the darkness that was present within the home. This home had always held an indiscernible presence to Ichigo, but inside, he realized, it was much stronger than before. It was almost as if the building itself was overflowing with valuable, private, memories that Ichigo had no right to tread upon. As he braved his way inside for the first time however, it still felt completely wrong to be here. As if he was truly intruding on someone's home even when the rationality of the situation told him that this was only the shell of an empty house. No one had lived here for the past hundred years, the previous family having suffered a tragic fate when the noble lord that had once ruled over all this land was said to have gone insane when his wife was murdered before his very eyes and he had killed all who dared to come close to him in cold blood afterwards...

'Shitsurei shimasu (1*)' Ichigo whispered apologetically, his voice echoing hollowly into the large room he had just entered with lightly treading footsteps. The wind was howling deafeningly on the outside, rain crashing loudly against shoji doors, some broken others not, as a cacophony of differing sounds assaulted the orangette's suddenly strained and sensitive hearing. Boards of wood rattled and creaked at the force of the storm, the scent of rain beginning to permeate the home Ichigo had just entered as he quickly shut the door behind him again. Pulling his wet coat closer around his shoulders to try and ward off the iciness present within him, Ichigo carefully transversed the tatami mats beneath his socked feet, clutching his messenger bag that contained his art supplies closer to him almost like a shield.

Now that he had entered this forbidden place, despite the shiver of fear it induced within him, Ichigo felt the need to know more of the place that had somehow become carved in his heart as both a place of comfort and undeniable sorrow. After all, this had been the place that he and his mother had come to explore the forgotten gardens of when he was a child. It held many memories for him, good and bad. Just as he was sure the ones that had once dwelled here saw it in the same light. But for now, Ichigo knew that he needed to find a room deeper into the home that wasn't so exposed to the harshness of the storm. Or didn't feel so out of place with a dark pressure that caused a lingering sensation to overwhelm his mind.

He was going to have to take a leap of faith here, especially since Ichigo didn't know what would await him deeper into the everlasting darkness...

...

Situated upon a low table of dark wood in one of the rooms, a single flash of lightning ignited the darkness briefly to display the clear outline of a forgotten lantern and several unlit oil candles. The objects were laid out oddly though, almost as if they were waiting for someone to notice them or use them. But what struck Ichigo the most was not their appearance there, but that they weren't even covered in a thick layer of dust like most of the broken and sparse furniture that was around the room. Not wanting to waste the battery that kept his phone alive in case he needed to call someone later, Ichigo found himself lighting the lantern with one of Renji's stray lighters that had become mixed up in his belongings with some trepidation instead.

The soft orange glow from the now lit lantern flowed turbulently but brightly into the traditional tearoom, Ichigo's eyes instantly turning towards the right to observe the entrance to what he was sure had once been the family shrine. Just beyond the small gap in the slightly ajar doors, where the scent of incense still clung to the atmosphere headily despite its age, chocolate brown eyes briefly glimpsed the painted form of a long dark haired male. The portrait was small, tied with black ribbon in respect to someone's death, but despite its small size, it was incredibly detailed. Displaying an astoundingly strong figure with long flowing black locks, warm brown eyes and porcelain skin that was gazing up at Ichigo with a permanent scowl of irritation. And from behind an array of burnt incense sticks, some new, some old and half used, the orangette could tell that whoever this man had been, he had been loved even in death.

The orangette was startled for a moment however, frowning deeply at the construction of the portrait's features. It was strange, the dark kimono, the length of his hair...it all pertained to the era that he must have been alive in but the construction of his face and the build of his body, it was almost like Ichigo was looking into a mirror now. It looked just like him, even down to the deep scowl that was tugging at black brows and the purse of his full lips. Had he just found his doppelganger? The thought was a bit disconcerting for the orangette. But it was not impossible for him to have been a part of Ichigo's long forgotten relatives. He was part Shiba on his father's side...a family that had lived alongside the nobles, had once been a fallen noble family as well, for many years upon these lands.

But it didn't matter, even though it was intriguing, Ichigo could only file away the interesting sight for later use. He was still in search of somewhere that it wasn't so bitingly cold and he could settle in for a while whilst the storm blew over. If he was lucky he could get some sketches done of the inside of the house as Ichigo made his way deeper into the crumbling depilated rooms, the swaying lantern in his left hand throwing up an eerie light around his form as his feet remained near silent upon the wooden floors. Chocolate brown orbs endlessly searching for a place that wouldn't intrude on the presence that was settled within the home too much. Eventually, after twenty minutes of entering broken shoji doors, passing by bolted rooms...gaping holes in the floor and crumbling wood, Ichigo finally found a suitable one.

Nestled in the back of the mansion, where only a small low dresser table and a chest of broken drawers was settled against the far wall, Ichigo found himself trying to pay as little attention to the old and dusty futon in the middle of the room that had not been made for a long time. It did look slept in however, the covers rumbled and spilling all over the floor as the pillows retained their dented shape where a head had once lain. Ichigo was careful to reverently avoid the darkened stains upon the floor though, averting his eyes from the smears of what he was sure was blood as he settled himself on one of the safer looking tatami mats in the middle of the room. The lit lantern providing him minimal light to see by as the student cracked open his sketchbook eagerly.

There was something that had drawn him towards this place, almost as if leading him here with a tugging string and now that he had entered, Ichigo had the strangest compulsion to draw whatever it was that he could see blossoming in inspiration before his eyes. And in his mind, the striking figure from the portrait, the one with the hip length dark hair and stubborn eyes...he was sure that this had been his room. The lithe figure who would have sat upon the porch outside of those shoji doors, a cup of tea resting mere inches away from long and elegant fingertips as brown eyes turned towards the moonless skies above him with a lilting but sad smile that spoke volumes of his heartbreaking loneliness. The soft lilt in his voice as he hummed softly to a tune that only he would know as he reminisced about a forgotten lover and their arms that he could no longer return to.

Ichigo could be such a romantic fool sometimes, and it showed in his art but as the orange haired student continued to draw, his attention never once wavered from his work. Time it seemed was beginning to move forward, the darkness of the sky only intensifying as the hours flew by and Ichigo completely forgot where it was that he was. All that mattered was the outstanding rendering in meticulous pencil and charcoal that was beginning to take shape upon the pages of his sketchbook despite the little light he had to work by. By the time the storm clouds abated outside, the small sliver of a waning moon had started to peak out through the gaps in the clouds and was spilling hauntingly into the room's interior as the orangette continued to hum softly to himself in tandem to the glide of his pencil across beautifully shaded paper.

He merely continued his work without notice, never once aware of the darkened eyes that were beginning to stir at the instinctual call that his human heartbeat was creating. Where deeper within the home, the hauntingly sweet scent of falling rain, roses and sweet lilies was beginning to saturate the entirety of the abandoned home around him. The intensity of the pressure present within the abandoned mansion had also started to increase with an invisible push; as did the apparent danger that the dazed student was in. Ichigo had unknowingly and frightfully just awoken the sleeping monster that dwelled in the lightless room of this forgotten place...the one that others feared so much, and the one that Ichigo had only glimpsed once before in a terrifying night bathed in blood...

Shirosaki Hichigo, the creature that had once possessed another name in his life, but one he couldn't recall, was starting to stir irritably at the call of the eternal night that was forcing him into a reluctant wakefulness. Where he gracefully rose to find his footing on the wooden floors of a locked away room that was sealed from all light and unwitting wanderers. But, the dark being that was most known by the terrifying vampiric name 'Shiro', merely breathed deeply in thought. Quickly alerted to another presence that had entered his vast range of senses whilst he had slept for however long this time. He was distinctly aware that something was different in the air that night, it was charged with an unknown excitement that couldn't be contained as a deadly, predatory smirk curled at his pale lips. A lazy blue tongue swiping across those same lips as Shiro's nocturnal instincts eagerly took in the unfamiliar but sweet scent that was saturating his lair. Even his sensitive hearing could pick up the steady beat of a human heart; his nose twitching in anticipation at the sweetness that was curling so provocatively around him...

Oh my...but he was in for treat tonight...

'How, pitiful.' He murmured softly with a deadly grin. 'A poor lost little lamb has wandered into the vampire's den, someone's in for a surprise.' Shiro sing-songed happily in a hauntingly smooth tenor. Silent footsteps carrying him deeper into the home that had once rightfully been his and towards the lingering presence that was calling out so sweetly to his gnawing hunger. The pleated hems of a white hakama was brushing sensually against the tops of his bare feet, a cloak like white and black kosode trailing menacingly behind him as a sheer white elegant daitō was clutched nonchalantly in his right hand. Pitch black claw-like fingertips were clasped lazily around the sword as he balanced the blade across his shoulder by the broken chain suspended from the hilt. His free hand playfully scratching clawed fingernails across the surface of all the wooden doors the further that he travelled into the house; deliberately creating a creaking, haunting noise that was sure to chase up the rhythm of his victim's heart with fear.

Shiro had found the perfect prey and he hadn't even needed to go hunting that night. Just for that little present, the white haired vampire would make sure to savour this one all for himself. He so desperately needed to satisfy his bloodlust after all and the deep rising instinct within him that was threatening to consume him whole. It was something that Shiro had not experienced in many years, the feeling of being alive and invigorated by the scent of a mere human. His head was already tipped forward to draw the heady aroma into his lungs, a sprawl of ragged hip length white locks encircling his form protectively as the beginnings of a white and red bonelike mask, with a long curving horn tapering off to a deadly point, settled permanently across his left eye, the top of his pale cheek and the beginnings of his furrowed brow. Deep golden eyes, shimmering red in the soft light of the moon that was filtering inside, scanned his surroundings for the source of that hypnotizing scent that was only becoming stronger the further that he ventured inside.

His clawed fingertips were absently tracing the cracked mask and long horn thoughtfully; noting that it had grown again since the last time he had been awake. It was a sombre reminder that Shiro was starting to lose the last of his sanity, all turned vampires were destined to descend into madness if they remained without a Beloved. Their out of control instincts was eventually what formed the white mask, it was meant to protect their lost hearts because the instant that a hole opened in their chest, nothing could stop them from tearing to pieces everyone that was close to them or ragging through cities until their bloodlust was sated. Something that did not occur without the loss of several lives. The stronger they were, the deadlier their transition, and Shiro was very strong. He could wipe out the entire town around him within minutes if it were to happen to him one day as it would, but stubborn fool that he was, the lone vampire was still searching for his Beloved.

A single being that was said to be born only for them, moulded out of the shattered soul that they had lost in becoming a vampire to balance out their instincts and uncontrollable bloodlust. So far Shiro had no luck in finding his Balancer as they were also called, but the fact that his mask was still fragmented and not consuming him whole meant that he was still stubbornly clinging onto the last of his sanity. Something that could probably snap easily in next hundred years, but for now Shiro had to live with the edge of that broken mask and long, deadly horn clinging to his forehead and cheek irrevocably. But it wasn't so bad, he always got a kick out of scaring his prey, especially the ones that thought he was the devil himself. Well with his half broken mask, frightening red eyes that shimmering in the moonlight and pale skin...who wouldn't think that? It was sweet too, a prey's blood was always heightened in taste by both fear and the eventual pleasure they would feel from his fangs.

The white haired vampire could already feel him, the presence that had intruded upon his lair. This one was a little different than all the others he had encountered before, the normal anxiety and absolute fear that humans displayed when they felt the invisible brush of his dark reiatsu was not present within his current prey. In fact, if Shiro concentrated hard enough, he could feel an overwhelmingly powerful reiatsu humming beneath the surface of the human's form as it leaked out to clash unknowingly and pleasantly with his. It was warm, soothing too as the power sought to curl around Shiro protectively as he became aware of a lilting tenor that was humming a soft tune to amuse themselves. His sensitive eyes could see the light from a flickering lantern, struggling to stay alight under his cold presence as it threw up haunting shadows across the one room within this house that the white haired being tried to avoid as much as possible.

That specific room...he had no memories of his previous life left within him, but that room...he didn't want to enter it. There was something there that was painful for him, something that Shiro didn't want to remember. But he wouldn't let his prey escape that night, his bare feet urging him forward without caution this time. That hauntingly sweet scent was calling him inside, sharp golden eyes taking in the profiled features of his current lost little lamb that was shadowed by dancing light. He was beautiful, looked quite innocent too. Messy and bright orange locks, long legs stretched out in front of him with a sketchbook in his lap. Where, just briefly Shiro could see the flicker of two haunting brown eyes as long elegant fingertips worked on the stretch of shadowed paper on his propped up thigh. The white haired vampire was absolutely stunned, that steady heartbeat lulling him closer as the broken chain of his sword clinked ominously when he pulled it to his side protectively.

He was absolutely captivated.

Tanned skin that shimmered in the moonlight, beautiful features and an elegant throat concealed behind a splay of a forest green scarf, Shiro was sure he could drag such beautiful screams from him as a predatory leer curled at his lips. He was in for a treat that night and when those chocolate brown eyes lifted at the resounding noise of Shiro shifting his daitō to bury it in the wooden floor so that it wouldn't get in the way, he revelled in the way that they widened in alarm and a small breathy cry of surprise left those parted petal pink lips. The lost little lamb scrambling to his feet as he instinctively stepped back several steps to escape from the vampire's now very noticeable presence. But he didn't get very far, Shiro's wouldn't let him. His form vanishing in an instant as a clawed hand instinctively curled around a thin wrist and he pushed his prey up against the wall he had been inching towards. His long white locks falling forward to tickle paled cheeks and a surprisingly strong grip curled in his kosode in an attempt to push him away, tugging uselessly at stray strands of white quite boldly.

'Kawaisou (1*), did ya wonder in from the cold dark, lost little lamb?' Shiro purred softly, not at all fazed by his victim's struggles as an attractive red started to colour tanned cheeks at the apparent effort it took try and break free from Shiro's grasp.

'NO! Let me go! I'm not―!' The voice cried in alarm and Shiro chuckled deviously. The tip of his long horn dragging down the side of an orange head, accidentally scratching deeply into the skin of a temple, the left cheek and eye of his victim as a heady cry of pain erupted into the night air. That hadn't been planned, Shiro thought, but his prey was fairly lively tonight and it wouldn't be the first time that one of his victims had hurt themselves on that little appendage. However, the instant that the scent the rivulets of blood carried permeated the air, Shiro found a deep and possessive growl lodging itself in his throat. He was shivering at it, feeling as if something had snapped deep inside of him. The potent scent was driving him insane...it was sweet, nostalgic and the being before him, he created such an attractive display covered in the blood that the wound was creating across his cheek and dripping sensually down his neck.

Sharp claws impatiently shredded the curl of a forest green scarf, a thumb resting promisingly against a frantic beating pulse point as a rumble of anticipation curled in his gut.

'LET ME GO, DAMN IT! It hurts!' His lost little lamb wailed and Shiro grinned, shaking his head in that negative as he reached up a clawed fingertip to gather the flow of blood from the wound he had created unintentionally. Tutting softly as he smeared the crimson liquid across petal pink lips, Shiro chuckled at the display as a very real touch of fear began to seep into those beautiful brown orbs. They were gazing pleadingly up at him now; gaining the subtle haze that the vampire's rising reiatsu caused as he began falling back against the support of the wall and arched softly into the caress that teased his bleeding cheek tenderly. The orangette still struggling valiantly against the enthralment that Shiro was casting over the entirety of his unsuspecting form.

'Hush, lost little lamb. You have to be more careful, we wouldn't want ya te get hurt any more. Don't waste that precious blood of yours, I want it. Tonight, lost little lamb I am going to possess you, steal your soul for myself. You shouldn't walk into vampire lairs without knowing what would happen. So brave though, your fear, I have to say I have never encountered anyone facing me before with it being so low. Why aren't you afraid, little mortal, I'm going to devour you, you know, make you mine so that you can never escape.' Shiro noted teasingly, his fingertip tracing against the skin of a flushing cheek softly as panting breaths spilled across full blood stained lips, his blue tongue trailing against the trace he had left behind as the orange haired teen shuddered against him with a little moan, lips parting for his tongue as his victim revelled in the pleasures that Shiro was throwing over him so completely.

'Oh...god...i-it's you...' The voice said softly, brown eyes fluttering half mast the instant that Shiro leant down to pass his fangs against the skin of a sensitive neck. He could no longer hold himself back, the vampire had to taste...had to possess this one's heart and soul. His instincts were driving him insane, a deep moan of utter contentment spilling from his lips as his lengthened fangs sunk deeply into the delectable flesh of that tanned neck. His prey instantly stiffening against him as a cry of utter rapture and lingering, unseated pain was pulled from his throat. 'It's you...' his prey murmured again and Shiro frowned softly, barely paying any attention but for the delicious slide of warm blood that flowed down his throat as he drank deeply. Tanned fingers were wound in his white hair, tugging him closer as his lost little lamb's deep pleasure at his bite began to saturate his already sweetened blood.

'The one from before...' Just what was his lost little lamb rambling about?

'Hn...s-stop it...too much...' Ichigo called out despairingly, his weakened voice struggling to get his message across in the rise of his distress as he panted softly in search of his fast eluding breaths. He was dying beneath this being's touch, he was sure that he was. It was impossible not feel that way when a creature you had always thought a mere childish myth, was taking the very blood from your veins so pleasurably. Everything had descended in a haze of flowing warmth across Ichigo's skin, digging deeply into his stuttering heart as the white haired vampire continued to take blood from him in heady mouthfuls. Ichigo was swimming through a deep and dark haze of overwhelmingly intense pleasure and rising exhaustion; his entire form falling limp against the wall for support as his fingers, which had previously been twined harshly in long white locks in an attempt to force that mouth away from his neck, fell uselessly against two strong shoulders instead and he yielded to the outside call to relax.

The wound that had accidentally been dragged into the skin of Ichigo's cheek and deeply into his left eye was throbbing painfully in tandem to every beat of his heart, dragging unresisting groans of pain from his lips as it seemed like tears of blood from an unknown despair was trailing down his cheek. The orangette was not daring enough to try and discern the world by opening it though, he couldn't, he'd probably be left blind in that eye if he ever survived this. But Ichigo couldn't even think of that right now without feeling a haze of climbing rapture threatening to consume him whole. The panic that he was sure he should be experiencing right about now, it was gone...the dazed orangette only feeling a subtle touch of fear ignite in his blood that the being's presence had instilled within his heart earlier. But that too was starting to slip away from him.

Still, Ichigo wasn't truly afraid, in fact he felt quite comforted where he was. From the minute that he had seen the haunting pale form, the lithe figure pushing him up against the wall harshly, Ichigo could only discern a deep and all consuming fire of need burning heatedly in the pit of his stomach. He recognized this being, it was the one from Ichigo's memory all those years ago and also the figure that he had glimpsed in the portrait earlier. No matter how his rationality rebelled against it, his hair was changed yes, and so were the colour of his eyes but they were like a mirror reflection of each other. Even if there were no emotion being shown back at him in those golden depths...they were definately the same person, Ichigo was sure.

And the broken mask across that left eye, the long curving horn, Ichigo knew he should have been utterly terrified by the sight but he simply wasn't. He knew that there was something instinctual tying him to this being, something that he couldn't understand but was overwhelming all the same. He felt inherently warm, like he had just returned to the arms of a forgotten lover as the orangette groaned softly. Even his thoughts were starting to drift away from the depths of his mind, Ichigo's lingering confusion vanishing in an instant as his head fell back against the wall with a little arch, baring his flesh for his captor as low and enjoyable moan escaped his lips. He wanted more...more pleasure...more pain...more emotion...chocolate brown eyes drifted to half mast abruptly, Ichigo's mind still frantically trying to find a way to stop what was happening to him when he could barely even find enough strength to push his captor away from him.

'P-please...you're going to kill me...' Ichigo whispered softly, unable to form a true coherent sentence as his breath wheezed in his chest when sly fingertips slipped beneath the hem of his shirt and trailed teasingly against the skin of his abdomen. The sheer pleasure he felt from that simple touch, it was like someone was igniting a new and heady fire in his gut as it saturated his entire being. Ichigo's heart was racing frantically against his chest, his world tilting dangerously to the side as sly fingertips pinched a stray nipple between a forefinger and thumb. His back bowing instantly, a heady cry of pleasure pulled from between petal pink lips as Ichigo was left squirming helplessly against the sensations.

The orangette had never expected that taking shelter in this home would turn out like this, everything was swirling in dizzying circles around him. His body responding to the odd and deeply satisfying sensations that was being chased incessantly through his very veins. This being, this vampire, he was granting Ichigo something that he had never felt before. But even beneath it all, Ichigo could still feel his deep and uncontainable sorrow as well. It was something that Ichigo's empathetic nature sought to sooth away now as it swam into him, his mind struggling against the push of a heavy darkness that was starting to invade it as the orangette tugged harshly on those long white locks again to get him to pull away.

'ENOUGH! STOP IT!' Ichigo howled in a sudden burst of uncontainable rage, finding just enough of his fast fading strength to shift that sucking mouth from his neck despite the friction dragging those sharpened fangs against the delicate flesh of his neck. His breath was hitching painfully in his chest, a breathy cry leaving his lungs when a sly thigh slipped between his parted legs in retaliation to Ichigo stilling the vampire's treat. The action almost apologetically offered the orange haired student somewhere to rest his sagging weight as he was instinctively drawn closer to the white haired being. Finally allowed to breathe as his captor looked up at him with a frown, a sly blue tongue swiping across bloodied lips as he grinned down at Ichigo insanely, sly fingertips resting against the bleeding wound on Ichigo's neck as he murmured to himself.

'Finally found you~!' The white haired being purred happily several seconds later, startling Ichigo out of his heady daze as clawed fingertips rested against the wall on either side of the orangette's head. Leaning forward close enough that their noses were nearly touching as Ichigo instinctively jerked back at the touch of the horn scratching against the side of his head again. He didn't need to get hurt by that again, but even as he panted for breath, the palms of his hands pushing against the wall to try and keep his faded balance, Ichigo unexpectedly leaned into the touch that now traced lovingly against his headily flushed cheek, brushing away at the tears Ichigo had not even known that he had been crying.

'F-found what?' Ichigo asked hazily, eyes clenching shut at the pain that was beginning to saturate his limbs as he reached up his palm to lay it over the leaking wound in his neck. His hand was quickly pulled away however, his fingertips brought towards pale lips as a lazy blue tongue licked away the blood that was staining his palm. A haze of clear lust was entering those sated golden orbs and Ichigo shuddered in trepidation. That couldn't be good, Ichigo had only vaguely regained function of his mind but even then it was still hazy, all that he knew was the he wanted this being before him. Wanted him to possess him completely and the small touch of sensuality tracing against his lips by black nailed fingertips instantly made Ichigo aware of the deep unsated arousal coursing through his veins and the subtle haze that was starting to descend upon his mind once again the longer that he gazed into those golden eyes.

'Hn, only Beloveds have the ability to stop vampires from taking too much, little lamb, enough power and will to control their counterparts instincts to sate their lust. So that means you're mine, little lamb. My Beloved, the being that was born to keep me sane in the eternal night otherwise I would have killed you by now and―.'

'I-I'm a w-what...' Ichigo asked with clear bewilderment through his stuttering breaths, forced to trail off halfway though his sentence however, when surprisingly gentle clawed fingertips gripped his chin between a forefinger and thumb as his head was tipped backwards so that deep golden eyes could search the depths of Ichigo's one open eye for something. Warm lips instantly descending over a parted petal pink pair as Ichigo's shout of surprise was muffled against the push of a wet tongue into his mouth. His fingertips, fairly weakened, clutched tightly against the back of a white cloak like kosode as the orangette moaned deeply. He was falling away again, his rationality leaving his mind as Ichigo's only open eye fluttered shut against the overwhelming onslaught of newly awakened pleasure flowing into him turbulently. He was losing his senses, utterly caught up in the shuddering need as it came in a raging torrent and the student suddenly found his world spinning dangerously around him when strong arms pushed him towards the floor and onto his back.

'You talk a lot for a human that's been caught in my enthralment, little lamb.' The white haired being noted slyly, a blue tongue swiping across his pale lips as he gathered the lingering taste of his Beloved back into himself to snap the string of saliva that still connected their tongues. Settling himself possessively between his fallen victim's parted thighs, the white haired vampire purred softly at the sight that was spread out before him so delectably. 'No more talking, you can ask questions later. I'm going to make you mine now.' He said possessively and Ichigo blinked lazily up at the soft stream of moonlight that was saturating the room he was caught in. What was going on? Everything around him seemed to be fading into a slow burn of rapture as a cry was instantly drawn from his lungs when sly fingertips traced the outline of his straining arousal through the material of his pants that Ichigo hadn't even known he had.

'Oh god! What're you doing―.' Ichigo trailed off with a deep moan of enjoyment, shuddering at the undeniable feeling of sly fingertips undoing the button and zipper of his jeans; sensually sliding the material down his thighs as the orangette's hands uselessly pushed against a strong chest hovering above him. His form falling limp against the tatami mat beneath him. Ichigo's coat had fallen open against his chest in the tumble to the floor he had taken, his shirt pushed up his abdomen to expose his nipples and lithe abdomen to the cold night air as Ichigo licked his suddenly dry lips at the fingertips tracing up his sides pleasurably. His tongue ring flashing briefly in the moonlight as Ichigo soon found every single coherent thought that he could possibly have possessed, slowly but surely, being tugged from his very mind by the actions that the vampire took.

Ichigo was sure that he was breaking on the inside.

He was losing his mind, his entire world shattering around him when long white locks spilled over the vampire's shoulder to brush sensually against the exposed skin of Ichigo's chest and tickled his sensitive stomach. Fingertips capturing his tongue between two sharp black nails suddenly as a pale form leaned over him possessively, golden eyes inspecting the ring in Ichigo's mouth with a frown before a sly grin spread alarmingly across those pale lips. Leaving Ichigo scrambling against his sanity when he was drawn into another heady entanglement of tongues and nipping teeth. There was blood in his mouth this time, Ichigo could feel it, but whose it was he didn't know because he knew that he had bitten down at some point through the sensual kiss. He was forced to swallow around it however, the world fading further away from him when a firm hand curled around the base of his straining arousal and began dragging a slow pleasurable rhythm against Ichigo's straining flesh.

'Humans have the most interisting ways of decorating their bodies for the pleasure of their lovers, don't they?' The white haired being purred as he chuckled at the flush that was staining Ichigo's blood stained cheeks. Nibbling on the shell of dainty ear to tug at those loop earrings one for one with a little titter of mirth at every little moan he managed to drag from his beloved's throat. 'So cute, I love it. But to answer your half finished question, I'm claiming you, Beloved. So that you cannot escape me, but don't worry, I won't hurt you anymore. I'll look after you from now on, I promise. You just have to trust me.' Oh god, this being was going to shatter him, Ichigo thought dazedly. His entire being no longer able to withstand the rapturous sensations that was chasing through his body. His tongue even eagerly swirling around three fingertips that had been pushed into his mouth, tasting the flesh headily and revelling the coolness of their touch as Ichigo groaned softly at their placement.

'Wet them properly, little lamb.' The being implored and Ichigo nodded, doing as he was told even when he jerked a bit at the blue tongue that was licking against the wound on his cheek and over his closed eyelid now. Leaving Ichigo to shudder at the feeling, a warmth spreading straight into his heart when the pain that had been bothering him on and off started to fade away at the caress. He was feeling it again, that deep seated warmth of belonging that was spreading deeply through his veins, the orangette not even protesting when warm lips trailed away from his cheek to whisper lewdly against the pinpricks on the side of his neck. Swiping away the blood that still trailed in little rivulets from the wound with a soft purr. Ichigo soon found himself arching deeply when the fingers drenched in his saliva was withdrawn from his mouth and replaced by a blue tongue instead.

'Shush, you'll feel good in a moment.' The white haired being offered at the orangette's needy whimper, where Ichigo was left to revel in the distraction as a heady cry of need was muffled against pale lips and Ichigo arched against one of those fingers passing briefly against his entrance before pressing deep inside of him abruptly. It felt weird, nearly odd enough to throw the struggling student out of his haze of pleasure, but it soon faded when that sly hand curled around his arousal, didn't stop its incessant teasing touches around his straining need. In fact, it only got more overwhelming as the white haired vampire gifted Ichigo with a stifling pleasure that was starting to cloud his mind again. Everything was being replaced by a lingering need for more as a litany of cries and moans of enjoyment began to spill from Ichigo's lips. His back bowing against the tatami mat when the one finger became two and then three, all seeking to stretch him for something bigger whilst he lost the last tethers to reality.

And when Ichigo wound his fingertips in long white strands, his strength flowing back into him, he tugged the creature of night closer by curling his arms around a pale neck. Legs parting at the press of a sly palm as he was suddenly forced to cry out in loss when those teasing fingertips, which had been offering him a new range of fullness and needy want, pulled away from inside of him. Ichigo was begging shamelessly for more however, pleading for it to come back. He knew he was. He could hear his own wailing cries echoing deafeningly inside his own head. Ichigo's sudden and intense pleasure soothed away only momentarily by cool fingertips passing through his orange locks as a comforting kiss was pressed to his forehead tenderly. Clawing fingertips instantly stilling at the touch however, Ichigo's thighs now propped up to cradle the white haired vampire closer to him as something much larger pressed against his entrance with a heady promise.

There was a sweet whisper of encouragement spilling from his counterpart's lips as Ichigo arched deeply the instant that a scorching hot arousal buried deep within him in a single thrust. A heady cry of rapture tugged from parted petal pink lips as Ichigo could no longer hold back his rising contentment and cries for more. Shuddering deeply at the erotic feeling of warm lips latching onto the side of his neck again. This time, Ichigo had no more strength to push the being away, he didn't want to as the simple action increased the orangette's overwhelming bliss near tenfold. He was going to break, Ichigo cried out. Tears streaming down his cheeks unbidden of his permission, his fingertips clawing uselessly against a strong back as the warm sucking sensation against his neck only added to his all consuming rapture saturating his heart the more that his captor took from him. It was useless, Ichigo was completely lost to his carnal instincts...

'M-more! Please, it feels so good! I-I want...' Ichigo trailed off, dark spots of black swimming in front of the orange haired student's eyes as his body rocked eagerly against the overwhelming intensity that was beginning to swim through him irrevocably. He could no longer contain himself, dazed chocolate brown orbs only hazily aware of clawed fingertips reaching towards a pale wrist decisively, slashing at the vampire skin before the orangette's eyes widened considerably at the taste that exploded through his mouth the instant that a bleeding wrist was pressed against his lips. His pleasure rising to an all welcoming panicle inside of him as a deep seated comfort and heady sensation of love spilled deeply inside of him. Ichigo, unaware of his actions, curled his tongue against that wound happily, drawing it into his mouth as a deep and dark lust within him was almost instantly sated at the rich taste flowing down his throat.

'Take it, Beloved. However much you want, you cannot kill me.' His lover purred soothingly and Ichigo nodded dazedly, straining against the peaking thrusts that suddenly sought to push him over the precipice of his release. Ichigo's entire world breaking to pieces around him at the sweet taste that was sliding down his throat, a heady and deep instinctual call breaking him as he arched back against his sudden and overwhelming release of pleasure. Ichigo's vision had turned completely white, head falling to the side limply as every imaginable emotion he could have thought of spilled into his veins and saturated his very soul. He couldn't take it anymore, a darkness was pulling him into a deep, waiting unconsciousness where Ichigo was only vaguely aware of a warm wetness releasing deeply inside of him and fingertips smeared curiously across his own release that had stained his stomach. His eyes falling shut under the strain as Ichigo heady wails suddenly trailed off into breathless pants and small mewls of utterly sated bliss.

'You're mine, Beloved. I'll not let you escape.' A dark possessive voice purred in his ear and Ichigo nodded dazedly, not even aware of the strong arms that suddenly collected him against a strong chest and the dizzying movements that carried him deeper into the abandoned home. Deeper into the dark night, where the abandoned mansion with the lingering presence Ichigo had come to love so much over the years, stole his very soul as well. That was only until he realized it was the presence he had encountered tonight that had been creating that comforted sensation deep within him whenever he came here, something that Ichigo did not want to let go of anymore. Life no longer mattered, only the being that was so perfectly curled around him did. That was all...

'Yours, I'm yours.' Ichigo said softly, the last of his fading consciousness turning his mind and soul completely black.

...

'Ichigo...little King, time to wake beloved.' A smooth tenor purred softly, a slick blue tongue tracing against the shell of a dainty ear; tugging slyly at the array of black loop earrings softly in an attempt to rouse his sleeping beloved from his overly pleasurable dreams. The orangette had been moaning in his day rest for a while now, the student artist having shifted closer to his lover unconsciously as he had wound his tanned fingers in long white locks and a cloak like kosode quite possessively. Shiro just chuckled however, reaching his black nailed fingertips eagerly towards an array of soft orange locks, revelling in the gentle touch of that warm forehead leaning into his caress as the vampire traced the subtle flush of red that had crept onto pale cheeks. Another breathy moan leaving petal pink lips when Shiro leant forward to slide his lips over his beloved's briefly, Ichigo shifting his head closer as the fingers in his hair tugged softly to try and gain his hazed attention.

'What're you dreaming about, Ichi?' Shiro hummed softly with a smile. 'You seem to be enjoying yourself.' He noted absently, his attention drifting off instead to concentrate on the shift in the air as the call of the eternal night started to approach again. It would be time to rise soon and his little Beloved, he wasn't going to be happy to wake up so late again. What had Ichigo said? He had a project to hand in later at the university, something that Shiro was still trying to wrap his mind around now as he was forced to acknowledge the passage of time and the wild twists and turns present in the modern centaury. However, with his sanity finally restored to him, it seemed a lot easier than it had been before.

The edges of that white and red mask with its deadly tapering horn, which had been haunting Shiro for nearly a century, had finally shattered the night that Ichigo had accepted the older being into his heart. Something that the white haired vampire couldn't be more grateful for, but that had also brought to light many of his bloodied trespasses over the many years that he had been locked away in that abandoned mansion. There were even some nights, so vivid within his mind, that he would rather not remember them at all, especially because of the effect it had on him. Because somewhere within all those overwhelmingly powerful memories of blood and sheer madness, Shiro knew that he had encountered his little Ichigo once.

The orangette had been smaller then and Shiro hadn't understood the alluring presence that he had possessed then, but the white haired vampire was just glad that he had not killed Ichigo that night when he had gone into a rage of uncontrollable bloodlust. Or the woman that had so valiantly stood against him to protect her son, but still, it was a sorrowful thought. Especially when he had learnt from Ichigo that his mother had not survived that night, but not because Shiro had been the one that had attacked her. It had been another human, but still...the white haired vampire had enough guilt within him to last his current age three times over. At least having Ichigo by his side for that eternity didn't make the nights any darker than they already were.

His sweet little Ichigo, Shiro thought fondly. He had come back to him again. It had been a little over a month since he had first claimed his orange haired Beloved and he had never been more content. The same could be said for his little King, as a warm nose happily nuzzled his palm when he traced a pinked cheek lovingly. There was one thing that Shiro would never forgive himself for however, a black nailed thumb resting against the square white patch that rested over his beloved's left eye. Two strings of white tracing around a forehead and right cheek to curl around Ichigo's right ear as he murmured softly in his sleep. Shiro twirling the string that kept the patch in place between his fingertips thoughtfully.

He hadn't been able to save that beautiful brown orb from deadly injury, even when he had managed to heal the scars that he had created that night. It was something that he regretted, even now, when Ichigo still didn't blame him for it. In fact, his orange haired beloved seemed far too accommodating for a monster like him. But Shiro had quickly discovered that he had better not mention that in front of his Ichigo. His student artist had quite the fiery and volatile temper; especially when he was being protective over his lover. And when it came to appeasing Shiro's emotions, Ichigo would always sooth away the vampire's misgivings with sweet kisses and loving little declarations that the white haired being could never ignore.

'Ichi, King. Time to wake, you really are going to be late if you sleep anymore.' Shiro called out again, chuckling when he was suddenly pinned with a deadly glare when that single eyelid fluttered open, a deadly gold eye that was nestled upon a sea of black sclera, defiantly clashing with his lover's as Ichigo mumbled irritably in his sleep. The orangette baring his small fangs at Shiro before he reluctantly pushed himself to sit up. Silk sheets tumbling and sliding sensually down his form as he ran his fingertips through his messy orange locks in irritation before leaning upwards at the whisper of pale lips across his forehead. Ichigo eagerly parted his lips for the entanglement of their tongues as Shiro pressed closer to him, leaving the little Beloved disappointed when he pulled away with a deadly smirk and pointed to the clock that was situated beside their bed quite slyly.

'S-shit, I'm going to be late! Why didn't you wake me, Shi!' Ichigo yelped frantically, not completely aware of his lover's heated golden eyes that was following his lover's rushing naked form all over their new home as he searched for his clothes and headed towards the bathroom door, only looking over his shoulder when Shiro called an answer after him. 'I did, Ichigo! You didn't want to wake up, King, your dreams seemed far more interisting than the living world for you to sleep like that.' He teased, grinning slyly at the flush that he saw darkening across those two cheeks.

'Oh shut it, it's still your fault. If you hadn't...last night... I wouldn't...' Ichigo trailed off with an irritable huff at his frustrated explanation, glaring deeply as Shiro merely chuckled headily at his stuttered response. Tightening the obi around his yukata clad waist, Ichigo watched bewildered as his lover's taller form prepared to follow after him with decisive steps and a teasing grin. Those black nailed fingertips dragging through the ragged white locks that descended down a strong back to curl sensually around his hips, golden eyes not missing Ichigo's gaze even when the orangette had tried to be discreet about it.

'You had fun, I know you did.' Shiro teased, not at all fazed by his beloved's flushed and angry scowl.

'I was supposed to tell you something important yesterday, damn it, but you completely threw me off rail. And now...'

'Oh, what were you going to tell me?' Shiro asked curiously, deep golden eyes eagerly observing his beloved's form through the steam that was starting to cloud the tiled bathroom that they shared. His head tilted curiously to the side as he swiped his tongue across his lips thoughtfully, watching, merely observing as Ichigo did so as well.

'I finally found the records of your previous identity, Shi. Did you know that I was named after you in some odd way?' Ichigo said curiously as he peeked around the shower curtain at his lover, beckoning him into the small shower stall with a lilting smile when he noted the curiosity entering those deep golden eyes. The golden eyes that had finally regained some of their humanity, Ichigo noted. Even when soft fingertips came up to unhook the patch from his left eye and laid it on the bathroom counter instead, Ichigo did not flinch. He was not afraid, not of this being, never had been in the first place, as his fingers tugged at a black obi keeping Shiro's yukata closed and he dropped the silk from those strong shoulders.

'Tell me more.' Shiro said and Ichigo nodded, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as warm fingers curled around his waist and pulled him possessively against a strong chest.

'Well...it turns out that the old abandoned mansion was once a Shiba family home. Until the lord of land, Shiba Ichigo at the time, was said to have gone completely insane when his wife was killed and destroyed the house and all the servants within it. So...' Shiro hummed thoughtfully, allowing his beloved's voice drift all around him so hauntingly. It was sweet, these little moments, Shiro noted. Where nothing mattered but the gentleness in his beloved's voice and the sheer contentment that it creating deep inside of him. Nothing would be better than to stay like this forever, and that was exactly what Shiro would do.

Never again would he let his little Ichigo go...

1* - Shitsurei Shimasu – 'Pardon my intrusion' A saying one usually adopts when entering someone's house.

2* Kawaisou – Means pitiful, but is used more where referring to someone when you are feeling sorry for them. So in that sentence, it would sound something like: 'You poor thing'.

Anyways my honeys, thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. It seems that my busy Halloween month is finally over, I can finally breathe again. Please leave me a little review if you would be so kind, I would really appreciate that. It'll brighten my somewhat sombre day.

Thanks again for always supporting my works.

I'll see you again soon if I have decided what story to update again but it's either going to be Breathe Me In, Touch Me, Bind My Soul or Tsukino Kage: Moon Shadow. For now though, I'm done. Going to watch some horror movies and eat some candy. It's Halloween right, let's enjoy it.

Ja Na

Uchiha Madara
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The Forgotten Love