Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Daydreams Come True ❯ Rukia 3 ( Chapter 29 )

Tite Kubo owns Bleach. I just borrowed the characters.

 

Rukia 3

 

Once more she had shamed her brother. It was not her wish to do so, she respected him and tried to be a dutiful sister, but her actions always brought him pain and dishonour. There was no need for him to utter a word, or spare her a glance. It was evident to everyone.

 

It had been discreditable enough to have a sister who had gone AWOL (Absent without official leave) in the human world. She had added to the humiliation when she had given her powers over to a young and reckless human male, even if that had been an accident. Without any doubt those events must have pained her brother and her subsequent retrieval and sentencing to death would have made a man with a less noble nature utter words of reproof. But Byakuya did not reprimand her. He acted indifferently, treating her as if she had less significance than the scarf he wore around his neck. Perhaps she did. It mattered little. She deserved his indifference.

 

Today. She shut her eyes trying to remember the events which had thrilled and saddened her. A strange man had burst into her prison with Hanatoro and for a brief moment she had believed a rescue. Seeing Hanatoro again both lifted her spirits and made her despair. He had known her for less time than the people in her Division, she couldn't even count him as a friend and he was here to help her escape. The wetness at the corner of her eyes she quickly dabbed away. Her friend Renji wouldn't help her but this near stranger from a reviled Division was brave enough to try to help her. Did that say more about his character, or hers?

 

Turning her attention to the stranger who accompanied Hanatoro, she watched his expression change from expectation to horror and then hatred. It took moments and she then slowly recognised him. He was a member of the Shiba family, the brother to the man she had respected and admired and who had treated her kindly. Of all the Shinigami, aside from her Captain, Kaien had accepted her as an individual, not a pampered member of a noble family. She had still been feeling her way, stuck as she had been between her early life as a child of the streets who had struggled with her `family' to survive and her recent and more problematic existence as the sister to the head of a noble household. He appeared to understand and while she'd heard some whispers about the Shiba clan, she had never ventured to ask him any details. Under his guidance she began to find her way, begin to make a few tentative friendships with other members of her Division. She was found if easier to ignore the regret that she had accepted the proposal that allied her life to that of the Kuchiki clan, because it seemed irrelevant in the face of her position within the 13th Division and her new found confidence. Kaien had been instrumental in these changes. That had ended when she killed him.

 

How well she understood the rejection by Kaien's brother. She would have welcomed death at his hands, and deemed it not enough punishment. Ichigo and Kaien were dead. She had been the cause of both deaths and it was not right that she continued to live. Hanataro had mentioned Ichigo's name as if he had met him and he was still alive but that was difficult to accept. The dreams she'd had of Ichigo had been sweet and though she had stated she believed he was alive, she had not attempted to hide from herself the possibility that this was her subconscious trying to fulfil her fantasy. Delusions like that weren't often shared. But the faint hope had still existed.

 

After a brief and harsh exchange of words, and despite her protests, her rescuers led her outside. With a mixture of relief and fear she permitted them to persuade her to take some steps over the threshold and she was outside.

 

Being taken from her prison into the light, feeling the air touch her skin and her reiatsu flare without the confining walls had made her knees shake. The sky looked so different spread above her head, rather than being viewed through the narrow slit of the window that overlooked the execution ground. For a few frozen, sweet moments she had believed in freedom, in the possibility of life. But it was not to be. She could feel the presence even before her brother arrived.

 

How her brother must hate her. He barely seemed aware of her presence when he confronted Ganju but that didn't mean he didn't know she was there. He ignored her because she was beneath his notice as a sentenced criminal. She had not asked for anyone to save her, aside from asking Renji's help to escape, but that didn't count. Despite their reforged friendship it was obvious he wouldn't do anything to estrange her brother. Yet, here was a rescue party that she acknowledged had little chance of helping her now her brother had appeared. He was forced to draw his zanpakuto and fight a man who was apparently unarmed, not the behaviour of a noble warrior. Once more, without intention, she had besmirched his honour.

 

She didn't even stop to wonder why her brother sought to keep her imprisoned rather than assisting in her escape. That would have implied that he had some softer feeling for her than that he had shown until now. Even as she screamed at the man to escape after her brother had drawn his blade, she knew it was too late. His speed could not match the velocity of the attack and, disbelieving, she watched as the blade's flower petals sliced Kaien's brother's flesh. This too was her fault and if he died she would not be permitted to bear his body back to what remained of his family. She didn't want another death on her conscience, while she was preparing to meet her fate.

 

As if a vital support had been removed, Rukia almost fell at the same time as Ganju. The cost was too much. No one else would die for her. It was the end. Instead of dreading the execution she now wished it to advance, and then there would be no more futile and fatal attempts to save her. She didn't wish to see Hanatoro die, or Renji, or anyone else misguided enough to think they could overcome the justice that had been decided by the Council. She would accept it with grace.

 

Before she could appeal to her brother, to tell him she accepted her fate, she felt the warmth and reassurance from a presence that she had missed. Unbelievingly she saw her captain catch her brother's hand to prevent him from dealing the death blow.

 

Seeing Captain Ukitake so unexpectedly startled her. From the first time she had met her captain, he had confused her. He was sick, she knew that, but he still combined such strength with a gentle demeanour. While freely admitting his weakness, she only came to see his power. Others dismissed him as flawed, but she admired his influence. It was also true that because he did not appear to push himself forward as a force among the Captains, he was regarded with less suspicion.

 

“I'm not a threat, Kuchiki,” he explained to her one day, after Kaien had died and she was still trying to work out her position in 13th Division. “I like to read, to study. It's pleasant having a Division but I have no further ambitions. I have the time to sit and admire the scenery and drink a pot of well prepared tea. I can spend time talking to my friends and encouraging the members of my Division. I need no more.”

 

“But younger Captains seem to get more attention,” she said feeling insulted on his behalf.

 

He laughed and then coughed gently. “Poor Captain Hitsugaya. Such a lot of power and so many expectations. He has had to put aside his childhood too soon to assume such large responsibilities. But I know he loves my presents of chocolate, despite all appearances.”

 

Rukia shook her head, uncertain what he meant, but accepting that her captain would not be persuaded to change his ways, at least not yet.

 

“Poor Kaien had even less ambition that I and it was only at my urging that he took the position of assistant captain,” Captain Ukitake said, his eyes taking on a far away look.

 

Instinctively flinching from the mention of Kaien's name, Rukia had turned her face away, not wishing her captain to see the grief and guilt she knew clearly showed.

 

“I will never lose the guilt I feel for his death,” Captain Ukitake said quietly as if agreeing with her unvoiced feelings. “He chose to die with honour and I indulged him, but it was my loss. Our loss,” he had gently reached across and patted her hand.

 

The unexpected contact had made Rukia start back in alarm. Since being adopted in the Kuchiki clan and Kaien's death, she had shared little physical contact with another Shinigami. To feel another's touch scared her.

 

“I apologise, Kuchiki,” her captain had said. “I forgot, but you have to become part of the world again. Hiding behind grief can become a habit and you'll miss out on so much.”

 

It had been his idea to send her to the human world, to remove her from the places that reminded her too clearly of the assistant captain. She had shed the grief and guilt after finding and loving Ichigo but now she felt them even more. Was this how life was meant to be? A constant revolution of love and guilt, one following the other until death intervened and released her from the cycle.

 

That was the past and here and now her captain appeared as she remembered him. A man known for his physical frailty, who had managed to capture her brother's hand with his own before he could deliver the death blow. He would have needed to move swiftly to travel from his headquarters to this place and even faster, knowing everything she did about her brother's ability to move very quickly around the Seireitei. Captain Ukitake was here, smiling and acting with his normal manner, smiling and speaking to her brother with the slightest tone of reproof in his voice.

 

Had her captain come to save her? It didn't seem likely. He had not interfered with her imprisonment, visiting her once only briefly, and she didn't know if he'd appealed against the decision to have her executed. Despondently, she believed he had forgotten her, or disgusted with her behaviour, he'd decided to remove her from his Division without a formal announcement. She should have known better. The guards had spoken about his illness, but preoccupied by her own problems she hadn't thought about it. Seeing his smile made her face crease into a response, but it wasn't to last.

 

Everyone stiffened as they felt someone else approach. Someone who didn't conceal his presence, but seemed to announce it with his undisguised spiritual energy.

 

That reiatsu! She recognised it. Not quite the way she'd felt it enfold her in the past as it had changed, become immeasurable stronger, but it felt like Ichigo; her Ichigo.

 

Gazing upward, her heart moved from her chest to her throat and seemed to beat there, constricting her breathing. It was impossible to swallow or say anything as she watched Ichigo fly toward her; her rescuer, moving through the sky as his eyes captured and held hers.

 

Ichigo was alive!

 

Until now she had not permitted the belief in his recovery to take root in her mind or heart. Having lost him once, she didn't want to lose him again through mistaken belief. No matter what, she couldn't lose him again to death. She could die if only he would live, but the fool seemed intent on rescuing her. The last time she had seen him, it was so difficult to hold back from believing he was alive and she had acted as if he was real, because he'd been hurt so badly and she needed to believe he was alive. She clung to the lie, pretending to herself that she knew it wasn't true, hoping it was, confused by her long hours on her own and the overwhelming fear of her looming execution.

 

Watching him land, she waited, waited for him to talk to her, but instead he spoke to Hanatoro, reassuring him and then he swaggered over to her, with all the arrogance of a conquering hero. His words only echoed his attitude and as usual they exchanged words about who was right, and who would listen. All the time she couldn't take her eyes from him, wanting desperately to touch him and kiss him, but mostly to hold him close and feel the reassurance of his warmth. Her hand reached out, but mindful that her brother and captain were watching, she stifled the movement, dropping her hand and yelled at her lover. Again, he hadn't listened to her. Again he'd only heard the words he wanted to hear and ignored all the others. As she dragged her eyes from his face, a thrill of shock went through her. The wound, that wound she had tried to heal in the dream. It was mostly closed, but he had other wounds, deep and painful.

 

He couldn't leave anything alone and the next thing she knew he was challenging her brother again. This was too much. She was being forced to watch once more as her brother killed her lover and the first time had nearly destroyed her. Trying to close her eyes only made the tears fall faster and her head refused to move, her eyes refused to turn from the unacceptable sight. No matter how she fought to block out the sight, her body was refusing to obey her mental commands. Standing there, frozen, the fight commenced and every nerve in her body fired, trying vainly to regain some control over her muscles. If she could have screamed, she would, despite the fact that her brother was there. Then her body failed and she fell to her knees, still watching. Shuddering and perspiring she watched as her brother prepared to destroy her lover for the second time and finally she found her voice and screamed at Ichigo to run, knowing that it was too late, that he would not survive and this time she would die with him. If he died, she would throw her useless body over the edge of the walkway and be done with this life that would be meaningless without Ichigo.

 

The blur of motion made her certain that her eyes were malfunctioning. Incredibly it was a beautiful woman with a familiar name who was suddenly there, preventing the fight from continuing. When Hanatoro asked, her mouth answered, but her brain was desperately trying to work out the association. The former 2nd Division Commander was called Yoruichi. The cat at Urahara's shop was called Yoruichi, but he was male, wasn't he? The cat belonged (if any cat ever belongs) to Urahara, the man who was her link to the Seireitei while she was in the human world. Hanatoro helped her to her feet as her brain continued to try to process the information as she listened to the words and phrased that passed between the other people, but it seemed all far away. She fought to make sense of it all, her eyes fixed on Ichigo the woman casually slung him across her shoulders. The woman had claimed him and was taking him away, away from Byakuya, away from her and away from her prison with a promise of returning him in 3 days.

 

Rukia swayed on her feet. Yoruichi, the cat, was a woman and she was carrying Ichigo away. She had possession of her lover. The beautiful, exotic woman was holding Ichigo, admittedly not the way she wanted to hold him, and was removing him for 3 days for who knew what reason. The promise was she would heal his wounds, but what else would she do to him? Three days was a long time.

 

Would he even bother to return to save her? The world became less colourful and the increasingly turned grey as Yoruichi bore Ichigo away and managed easily to escape Byakuya's pursuit. Then her vision turned black as she fell, into the darkness that blocked out all thought and gave her the peace that she needed. She was going to be executed soon, couldn't they let her be and stop disturbing her?

 

Clear images passed through her mind: meeting Ichigo for the first time and fighting him, immediately recognising him for an arrogant idiot who was unused to following simple instructions. Her mind replayed his reaction when she turned up in his classroom, in his bedroom. The often stupefied expressions he wore when he was around her at first. The first sight she had of his naked chest. The way he had looked when she fell across him. The images of having sex, loving him passed through her mind. Her imagination was strong, almost making her think that she could feel the gentle pressure of fingers touching her, undoing her clothing and touching the flesh underneath.

 

Once again she had trouble understanding how her mind worked. After all the events of the day, the near death of the brother of Kaien, her brother ignoring her, seeing her captain, her near escape and beholding Ichigo once more, her dreams were full of erotic feelings. As she lay there, she could feel her nipples getting hard as fingers, (and was that a tongue?) touched them and aroused her. It was inappropriate that she was dreaming about this when her execution was so close and the possibility of rescue was becoming less possible every minute.

 

The feelings intensified despite the accompanying guilt. Through the pleasure she kept having twisted images of her last few minutes in the human world, the fight that convinced her that Ichigo had died.

 

“I want to wake up,” she said in her mind, or aloud. `I don't want to see what happens next.” Witnessing Ichigo's death again, even in her mind, wasn't acceptable, not today. After mourning his death and replaying those violent images through her mind as an act of contrition whilst confined, now she knew that he was alive, it was more of an obscenity than previously. He was alive, not with her, but alive. Yoruichi was taking care of him, the woman, not the cat. The tall, lean beauty with the long hair and bewitching eyes.

 

“Why don't you wake up? I've been sitting here watching you sleep and trying to wake you, but you're acting obstinate again,” said the voice from her dreams.

 

“Go away, Ichigo,” she mumbled angrily. “Go and play with Yoruichi who is apparently a beautiful woman and not a cat. You don't want me.”

 

“I don't think Hat and Clogs would like it if I tried to put moves on his woman. Nor do I want to,” the voice assured her. “Sure she has a nice body, but she can save herself. She doesn't need me to help her, like you do.”

 

The conversation was so like one she would possibly have with Ichigo she was almost tempted to open her eyes to check if he was there, but seemed too unlikely. “I don't need you to save me. I can save myself.”

 

“Yeah, and you're doing such a good job of it. Lying here, unconscious, in a prison. Yep, I can see you've got everything in hand with this escape you have planned. Just a couple of questions. Do you mean to escape before you get executed? How do you intend to get out of here? And when you do, where will you go?” The voice was light and teasing and she could imagine the cocky smile he was wearing as he spoke to her.

 

As her face furrowed and she tried to think of an answer, she felt Ichigo's mouth meet hers. Gently he pressed his lips against hers as his arms slid around her, pulling her body close to his own. “I missed this last time,” he murmured as he withdrew his lips.

 

Remembering his injuries and conceding he was there, she pulled back from him. “You're still hurt. Why are you here when you should be recovering and getting stronger? You should go home.”

 

Chucking Ichigo looked at her. “That made you open your eyes. I'll be fine. I'm having a break from training and found myself here as soon as I fell asleep. Now do you think I'm alive? And you know I don't listen to you when you tell me what to do. Where's the fun in that?”

 

A conflict of emotions was passing through her body. Joy that he really was alive; anger that he hadn't listened to her; fear that she was imagining this and he was involved with Yoruichi; guilt that he was trying to save her; terror that he wouldn't. Instead of answering him, she poked out her tongue and made a face at him.

 

“I come all this way to save you and you make faces like that? Where's the pretty Rukia I know? All I can see if a troll wearing her hair.” Ichigo's face was serious and he began to turn away from her.

 

“I'm not a troll. You're… you're ….. You're a cat loving pig,” she said trying desperately to think of a better insult, but failing.

 

“That sounds unnatural. A pig falling in love with a cat? Aren't there rules against that happening? Did I mention a troll earlier? I think the troll has green eyes. Maybe the troll is worried that her pig likes cats more than trolls,” Ichigo said and smiled at her.

 

“Oooh. You….. you…., idiot.” Rukia couldn't maintain her composure, or even find it. Not even if she had a map, flashlight, and native guide to lead her there. She was shaking so hard that she wondered why her teeth weren't rattling. Her brain she was sure was shaking in her head and that was the reason she found herself exposed and vulnerable to Ichigo.

 

All she wanted to do was sink into his arms, press her face against his chest and know he was there. At least, to begin with. Instead she couldn't think of what to say to him or do. After the times they had been together, both in the human world and here, in her dreams, or what she had thought were her dreams, it was now that she didn't know what to do, like after the first time they had sex. If only her mind could be reasonable and help her now instead of throwing images at her. As she shivered she felt her clothes shift on her and looking down she noticed that her shirt was undone.

 

Unbelievingly she pulled it apart, looked down and then looked at Ichigo. A wide open, obviously false innocence was displayed on his face. “What's wrong, Rukia?”

 

She spluttered, “My clothes. They weren't undone when I left here, were they?”

 

She didn't observe the twinkle in Ichigo's eyes. “I don't know. If you don't have the ability to dress yourself, is it my problem?”

 

She reached out and grabbed his nose, twisting it in her fingers. He was trying to annoy her, she knew it and he was doing a splendid job of identifying her weaknesses. “What were you doing?” she demanded and tweaked his nose further. She was beginning to think those feelings she'd had while dreaming weren't the product of her imagination.

 

Gently prising her fingers from his nose, he gave her a pleading look. “You were unconscious. I wasn't sure if you had a concussion, so I checked you were breathing and your heart was beating. Then as a further test, I checked your brain function by applying some external stimuli to ensure that your nerves and muscles responded normally. I had to undo your clothing in order to perform these simple tests.”

 

Nerves and muscles responded? What was the idiot going on about? In her dream she had imagined someone was stroking her breasts, gently stimulating her nipples and reaching into her pants. He'd been taking advantage of her!

 

She hit him hard in the side of his head. “Bastard. You were touching me up while I was unconscious because you're some kind of sick jerk who gets off on things like that.”

 

“You were refusing to wake up, and you looked so good, just lying there. You were moaning as I touched you, not complaining at all. And I was worried that you were hurt. You could hardly stand up when I saw you outside.” Ichigo was trying to sound indignant at her words, but wasn't succeeding very well.

 

“I couldn't stand? Yoruichi punched you in the stomach and you dropped like you were dead. How long have you known she's a woman?” That seemed a more important answer and she wanted to know, now.

 

“She appeared as a woman, naked, after I'd fought that insane Captain from 11th Division. The guy should be certified. He's dangerous.” Ichigo seemed to have trouble meeting her gaze, but he picked up her hand and gazed at the palm intently.

 

Rukia gaped at him, hardly able to comprehend what he'd said. “You fought the Kenpachi? The Kenpachi Zaraki of 11th Division? And survived? And you were going to take on my brother?” Dazed by the revelation, once more she wondered about the person she had grown to love. His strength had impressed her, but she hadn't dwelt on it much while they'd been together. That power was simply a means to kill the Hollows she couldn't.

 

“So? They want to stop me, I won't let them and I'll beat them. It's simple,” said Ichigo once more missing the point as he smiled at her, full of confidence.

 

Then she picked up something else he'd said and yelled at him. “Naked! I bet you looked too, you pig. And compared. Did you touch?” she was getting ready to punch him hard in the stomach, the place she knew was weakest.

 

“Of course…… not. Well, maybe I looked a bit, because I was curious and it was sudden. It was a mistake and it was like looking at a magazine,” he glanced at Rukia's face which was turning thunderous and he gulped and carried on. “But it's not only about me. What was all that crap you talked the first time we had sex about the other guys you'd been with. You'd only had sex with Renji and you carried on like you were experienced.”

 

“I didn't talk about other guys. I didn't say anything about the number of men I'd slept with. Even if it was only Renji that was more experience than you had. Are you jealous?” she answered back, angrily.

 

“I don't want to have sex with Renji,” Ichigo shot back.

 

Almost ready to shake him for evading the question she shot back, “Nor do I. But what about your tame follower, Orihime. Are you sure you haven't tried what's offered?”

 

She couldn't be imagining the distaste that spread over Ichigo's face. “No.”

 

“No?”

 

“Where's the challenge?” he answered, shifting uneasily.

 

She pondered his answer. Challenge? Was that important? But if Orihime wasn't a challenge, then neither was Rukia, as she'd made the first move. Or was he being inconsistent?

 

“If I showed her any interest, she'd expect more. If I gave her more and then lost grew tired of her, she'd follow me everywhere, watching me with those soulful eyes, making me feel guilty. I like women with a bit of fire and backbone. Women who lie about how many lovers they've had and who beat me up.” He grinned at her and pulled her close to kiss her.

 

In the brief moment before his lips touched hers she felt a momentary stab of pity for Orihime. Though the girl was obviously fixated on Ichigo, her devotion decreased her attraction. If he was any less principled he might have used her and left her, but instead he recognised that would be wrong, or it could be all a lie that he was telling her.

 

All these thoughts were swept away as they kissed. She slid her hands under his clothes, touching the areas she believed were undamaged and he responded in kind. Both of them were panting slightly when they drew apart, Rukia's skin aching for more contact.

 

“Why are we talking, anyway? Yoruichi will wake me up soon and I'll be there, excited with no relief in sight.” Ichigo looked at her meaningfully.

 

Were all men like this? Wanting sex despite the situation? They were both in danger, he was wounded and judging from the bandages and injuries she could see, had been close to death once more, and he wanted sex.

 

Of course her desire was only present because he'd been arousing her while she slept. Otherwise she would be unmoved, wanting to talk further instead of stripping him of any remaining clothes as her hands were instinctively doing. She wouldn't be pressing her lips on any exposed flesh that she could see and assisting him with the removal of her clothes. Nor would she be lying down eagerly, parting her legs as he knelt between them, gazing down at her with heated eyes.

 

“You were moaning my name in your sleep, as you are now,” Ichigo told her, apparently satisfied that she seemed to desire him.

 

“Hmmm?” said Rukia as she impatiently drew him to her.

 

“What about foreplay? You were always going on about it at home,” was his next comment.

 

“You did that while I was asleep,” she spat out at him, but the anger was lost as she again felt a shudder of pleasure wrack her body as he began to guide his cock into her.

 

“Oh, yeah,” he said faintly as she encircled his waist with her legs. “Oh, Rukia.”

 

She kept her eyes firmly fixed on his as he slowly eased his way inside her and once again she felt her body stretch to accommodate his length and width. A small note reverberated in her throat as he fed more of his length into her, filling her until she wondered if she could stretch any further, and hoped she could. It was only his desire that was driving them, she assured herself. Her body was moving like that because it was a reflexive action and not because it felt so good. If necessary she could stop now and do something else. This was purely to please him. She arched her back, feeling her nipples press into his firm chest, the slight rub of flesh on flesh causing them to tighten into buds. He stilled for a moment and bent his head down to capture one between his lips, sucking it into his mouth as his teeth scraped it lightly.

 

“Don't stop,” she moaned, making a lie of her thoughts.

 

“Why would I?” he panted. “Do you think I'm stupid?”

 

“Stop asking questions I might answer,” Rukia gasped. “Oh, do that again, just like…..oh.”

 

Ichigo had changed the angle of penetration, seeming to drive further into her body. Any other thoughts Rukia might have were lost as she responded, fervently embracing Ichigo and kissing him as her excitement increased. She'd known pleasure when she'd had sex with Renji but if seemed so distant and almost childish in comparison to the feelings she was experiencing now. For some reason her lover made her aware of how his body moved and how they fit together, intimately, each accommodating the other and spurring the other on to even greater pinnacles of desire.

 

She was gasping for air now as she urged Ichigo to increase the speed. Her climax was close, very close and it was obvious that her partner wasn't going to last much longer. `One more thrust, one more', she though blankly, `just one', and then the wave of passion crashed over her. Feeling the breath leave her body in a sudden rush of fulfilment her body convulsed, thrashing under Ichigo's final thrust.

 

Her limbs heavy, her eyes half closed, she didn't want to move but she felt something shift underneath her. Reaching out she only found the mat under her exploring fingers. Almost ready to cry, she opened one eye to find Ichigo had gone and she was once more alone.

 

Torn between laughing and crying, relief and despair, she found her shoulders shaking with laughter as the tears ran freely down her cheeks. There had been no chance to tell him she loved him and she wanted to say it to him once more before the time came for their paths to part permanently.

 

-------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------Author's Note:

 

Amazing! I managed to get them in the same room at the same time.

 

I have a feeling that this story might speed up a little more now, but considering how good I am at predicting things. I'm not sure I'd believe my assurances that the sun will rise tomorrow.

 

Now, who next? Momo? (ugh). Yuzu? (not likely) How about a chapter from Kira's viewpoint? (Kira? Do I have enough anti-depressants?) I've been longing to write a chapter from Isshin's point of view. Or Captain Unohana? Or if I decide to write an Ichigo acquiring bankai chapter I could use Zangetsu. (For some inexplicable reason that doesn't appeal.)

 

Please review.

 

MS