Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Different Circumstances ❯ The Other ( Chapter 35 )

Tite Kubo owns Bleach and the characters depicted therein. The characters in this story are not mine, mostly.

 

The Other

 

What was Memento Mori? Was it the other person inside him? Why did I think he was talking about something else?

 

“Your other self is called Memento Mori?”

 

Zaraki looked startled at my question, scratched his head and then said, “No. I don't know what he's called, or even if he has a name. Maybe he's a 'fragmented part of my personality', whatever the fuck that means.”

 

This conversation was not making any sense and I wondered who had provided that assessment. My previous pleasure that he trusted me with the disclosure of his secret other, became slightly clouded, but the time to question that particular statement would be later. "I don't understand."

 

“You don't? What the hell are we talking about?” His voice was rough.

 

It was a very good question. “Aren't we talking about your other self? Isn't he called Memento Mori?” That was what I thought we were talking about.

 

“You asked me why I tried to stop killing you. I'm explaining.” Zaraki's voice deepened and he looked serious.

 

I opened my mouth to ask another question but Zaraki continued before I could ask. From past experience I decided not to interrupt as it would only annoy him and take too long to find out the truth.

 

“I thought you understood that the other person in me was trying to kill you. You asked why I stopped,” again the look of dissatisfaction settled on his face.

 

Instead of answering, I nodded. I had asked that question and then became distracted by asking if the berserker part of him was like a Hollow. Each question answered seemed to lead to further ideas I had not previously considered.

 

“Memento Mori stopped me.”

 

It was becoming clearer and it seemed like my earlier idea was correct. I had considered it previously, but I wanted him to tell me directly. The main problem was Zaraki seemed very unwilling to explain further. It was easy to understand why, but this time I tried to encourage him to talk.

 

“Who, or what, is Memento Mori?” The question hung there, awaiting a response and I tried not to appear impatient.

 

Until now I had never seen my husband at a loss for words. Was it my imagination or did he seem embarrassed? Rather than press him, I waited. If he told me that would mean he trusted me. I needed to believe in that trust. If there was no trust between us, my love, all my feelings for this man were based on a deception. While I waited for him to respond my heart beat became erratic and my palms became damp. This situation was unusual. When he was as excited as he seemed to be, he was intent on screwing, not talking, but now it was as if we needed to work this out before we could indulge in pleasure. After the recent events I wanted to lose myself in him, but felt some reticence at the same time. It seemed the foundations of our marriage kept shifting and each new shift made me concerned about the outcome. Every day I was more determined that I would not be parted from him and then had to face yet another issue made me question how I felt about Zaraki.

 

“Memento Mori is the name of my zanpakuto.” Finally he admitted what I'd already guessed. “When you said those words aloud and I repeated them, he spoke to me. He congratulated me on finally working out his name.”

 

Zaraki fell silent and looked at the blade which was lying on the floor where he'd dropped it.

 

At first I could not take in the swooping elation I was experiencing. It was evident that my husband trusted me with the biggest secret he'd ever had. Bigger than the ligature marks around his neck and perhaps nearly as dangerous as the information about his Berserker side. It seemed so to me as I was the first person he'd told. The trust was there. The love was real.

 

Gripping tightly to the joy that threatened to make me laugh, I tried to imagine what he was feeling but couldn't. All the years he'd scoffed at people who used kido to enhance their fighting might now be at an end. He'd spoken disparagingly of Shinigami who relied too heavily on the spirit of their blade to get them out of trouble. Now he would become like the other Shinigami and I did not know how it would affect his fighting style or attitude. My joy began to ebb. I didn't want Zaraki to change and become like the other Shinigami. I admired his efforts to increase his physical strength and the way he relied solely on his own abilities rather than any outside help. I thought briefly of some of the Captains who seemed to despise swordplay and were more than happy to use their shika rather than simply fight.

 

It then struck me that I too was guilty of that. I strove to gain bankai, and often neglected the simple fighting techniques that were drummed into me during my time at the Academy. It had only been when I'd fought Captain Fong and Zaraki that I'd even employed those skills recently. Shame now replaced my joy. Underneath my love and adoration I'd had a small feeling of superiority over my husband as he didn't know the name of his zanpakuto. I'd known the name of mine for a long time and had become lazy and complacent simply through knowing a name. It was now evident that it was important to develop both ways. A Shinigami who was both a skilled fighter and adept at utilising the additional power from the zanpakuto would be an amazing opponent. Given time, my husband might become the most powerful Captain of the Gotei 13.

 

These thoughts raced through my mind while I attempted to think how I should reply to the revelation. He was watching me and I knew that my response could damn me or delight him. The spirit was a male, which was some small relief to me. I didn't want to compete with another female. That might be the best token response.

 

“The spirit is a male?” then I faltered. He'd already mentioned that it was a male.

 

“If you can call a fleshless skull a male,” he replied.

 

My mouth dropped open. A skull? Did it have a body? “Only a skull?”

 

The glare I received made it obvious I had not been wise with my question. “I don't know. All I saw was a skull. It was dark.” The information was unwillingly imparted.

 

I tried to switch the topic back to one he had mentioned. “Memento Mori stopped you from killing me?”

 

I could see that he relaxed slightly at that question, for a second, but immediately tensed again. “Yeah. He said if I killed you he'd never help me get stronger. He hates the other personality more than me. Then Memento Mori said he'd never have spoken to me if I hadn't married you.”

 

He paused. “I think the bastard's in love with you.” An ugly look crossed his face as he stared at the blade.

 

I knew that if I laughed it wouldn't help, but the suggestion he'd made was absurd. Had the zanpakuto arranged our marriage? Had he been instrumental in that encounter in the bathhouse? And would I desert my husband for a skull? Did he believe that? Could any person believe that? It seemed unlikely especially as I loved Zaraki so much.

 

“And I think Haineko has a crush on you,” I said smoothly; half teasing, half serious.

 

“Leave me out of this,” she said. “My crushes are mine and you shouldn't mention them.”

 

I tried to placate her as I watched Zaraki. He seemed to think about my words and a small smile touched his lips. “She does, does she? Just like her owner.”

 

“I don't have a crush on you. Well maybe I do. But is it a crush if I love you and you love me?” I had at least distracted him from his brooding.

 

That assumption was incorrect. Zaraki's face darkened once more. “Do zanpakuto spirits sit in the back of your head making comments all the time?”

 

If Memento Mori was providing a commentary, it would make it hard for him to adjust, but it was essential that I told my husband the truth. I didn't think he'd like it.

 

“It depends on the zanpakuto, or so I've been told. Some rarely speak. On the whole they talk if there's something important they have to say.” That was true enough, for the most part.

 

Zaraki nodded and didn't answer. Feeling chilled by the conversation, I rested my head on his chest and his arms enfolded me. Warmth spread through me as we held each other. Even though I was still scared, I began to relax a little. Being held like this was another proof of his love. His lips touched my hair and I turned my face up to kiss him in return. It filled in the silence and I was becoming increasingly aroused by feeling his erection straining underneath me. We would have sex soon, I knew, but it was important that he had some time to work things through.

 

The kiss was sweet but without the normal urgency. I missed that.

 

“Now I know his name, what happens?”

 

I drew back and looked at him. I had never seen him uncertain like this about any of his skills. “You learn to trust each other.”

 

Strangely I thought he was going to laugh. “Trust a skull who has the hots for my woman?”

 

When he put it like that it did sound funny. I permitted the smile to curl my mouth and looked deep into his eyes. “I can't say that fleshless skulls stir anything in me aside from fear. I prefer skulls with flesh and a long scar on one side of the face.”

 

He tried to continue to look annoyed but his face relaxed as he smiled back. “I'm not into bestiality.”

 

I fanned myself with one hand while I ran the other over his scar. The skin felt so different to the rest of his face, but in some ways I delighted in touching it. He wore the scar like a badge of honour and while I did not know it's origins I hoped one day he would tell me. “I'm so relieved. I was beginning to worry that you only married me for my zanpakuto.”

 

He laughed. It was a good sound after the events that had taken place so recently. “Yeah. That's the only reason I married you.”

 

I pretended to be affronted and crossed my arms. His eyes were immediately drawn to my breasts, which I had intended. As his gaze finally rose to my face he said, “Well, there were one or two other reasons. I'm beginning to remember.”

 

“You'll have to remind me of the reasons I married you.” I wanted him to make me forget all the difficult moments we had so recently experienced. But by merely uttering the words my attitude changed. For some reason it became vitally important that he told me the reasons that he loved me and had decided to marry me.

 

“Because I'm the best lay you've ever had,” he stated and then smiled at me lecherously obviously pleased with the idea.

 

Shaking my head I replied, “That's true, but I'm sure it's more than that.” I could tell him, but felt reluctant to say more.

 

The look her gave me was one I had not seen previously. Zaraki could not be looking uncertain. That was wrong.

 

“Why did you marry me, aside from the obvious?” he demanded before I could ask.

 

Biting my lip didn't help. After all the other emotional upheaval I wasn't sure if this would help, or cause further problems. I had failed abysmally when Toshiro asked me why I love Zaraki or how I knew I did. If I tried to explain to the man I loved it might be even worse and anything I said would be feeble and not encompass the many reasons I agreed to marry him. I tried to buy time. “Why did you marry me?” I countered.

 

His face assumed a set expression, one that meant he was going to prove stubborn. If I wanted an answer to my question it would be necessary to answer him first. Slowly the man was stripping me of all my secrets, all the foolish dreams I had and he was either fulfilling them or replacing them with something I had never hoped for. Telling him that would give him too much power, too much conceit.

 

Did I care? A future without him was unimaginable. Physically he was much stronger than me and had not overused that advantage. More often he had been gentle, firm or protective except for the notable occasions of our first encounter and when the berserker in him was roused. Still I hesitated.

 

“Matsumoto, it's an easy enough question to answer.” He was becoming impatient. I had sat thinking about my answer and I knew he preferred to hear an answer quickly. The two answers I could give put me in a quandary. One was comprised of pride and honesty and the other was pure honesty.

 

“Because I love you,” was the simple and truthful answer that I gave him. Pride won. The answer was honest, but not detailed. If he asked me why I loved him then I would have problems trying to find an answer than encompassed

 

“My answer's the same.”

 

My jaw hurt as I unconsciously clenched my teeth together. He wouldn't even say it? He must have seen the tension that was radiating through my body.

 

“Why do you love me?”

 

I hadn't asked the question and now I was facing a problem. Should I answer him truthfully, or try to avoid answering the question.

 

“I don't know.”

 

“You must,” he persisted. “Is it the sex?”

 

I nodded and then shook my head. Sex was part of it, but not all.

 

“That's no answer. Is it the sex or not?”

 

“Partly, but much more,” I answered and then tried once more to work out a way to express my feelings. “The sex is the best I've ever had.”

 

“Yeah. It is,” he said and his hands started touching my breasts.

 

If he became interested in having sex now, maybe I could avoid answering any more questions. It would mean I wouldn't receive the answers I wanted, but I didn't want to spend a lot of time analysing the feelings I had. There was a fear in the back of my mind that if I tried to put it into words and expressed everything that it would seem vapid and not very compelling which would make me question if love was what I felt, or just deep infatuation.

 

“What else?”

 

I should have guessed that he wanted to know more. I countered, hoping that he would become distracted by trying to answer my question. “You have to give me another reason before I say anything else.”

 

“The sex,” he said quickly and one of his hands slipped down between my thighs.

 

“Is that the only reason?” I felt a pang of disappointment that our marriage was formed on such a ephemeral basis.

 

“No.” There was a trace of amusement in his voice.

 

“The baby?”

 

“Woman, I loved you before I knew there was a baby!” All humour had vanished as he spoke very loudly, but I noted that his hand had moved protectively over my stomach.

 

That was true, but he was still avoiding providing me with an answer. “Then why?”

 

“So there would be no one else, ever, for you or for me.” The low growl in which the explanation was uttered was another reminder of his assertion of claiming me and our original agreement.

 

I found I was nodding. Other men were nothing to me now except friends and companions. I couldn't even contemplate kissing another man and if I did I knew it would be his death sentence.

 

I kissed his cheek and gazed into his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for saying that beloved. I feel the same.”

 

“And now you're having our baby. We're having sex now. My cock feels like it's about to explode and you've been wriggling about,” he told me.

 

“Are you asking or telling?” Not that I would disagree either way.

 

“You going to say no?”

 

I quickly stretched out on the bed. “What do you think?”

 

“Do you always have to answer a question with a question? Shut up and kiss me and keep kissing me. I want to make Memento Mori jealous.” He smiled at me, his eyes reflecting the smile on his face.

 

I giggled at his explanation and kissed him. The fire and the passion were there and the urgent lust.

 

“I want to take you fast, but it might hurt you,” he said and slid down my body. “If I get you excited quickly then we'll both be happy.”

 

Before I could reply he was between my legs, kissing my and then licking me, gently at first and then with increasing concentration. I couldn't help myself as I found I was pushing up, eager to feel the next stroke of his tongue. I had been excited before while sitting in his lap but now I was becoming increasingly desperate. I wanted to come, but I wanted to be joined to him at the time, feeling his penis plunge deeply within me. Part of my excitement came from watching pleasure affect his face and the sex became the whole focus of his mind.

 

“Zaraki, please. I'm ready for you,” I tried to say but had difficulty speaking clearly.

 

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” I screamed, trying to stop the orgasm that was building within me. “I'm begging.”

 

“Good.” Mere seconds passed before he was leaning over me, his penis entering me hard and fast.

 

“Oh,” was all I could say. That and, “More.”

 

He stared at my face as he continued to thrust into me and then abruptly stopped and withdrew.

 

"What?" I was shocked and slightly afraid. Had he suddenly become bored with me, or had he heard a noise that required urgent investigation.

 

"I liked it when you were sitting on my lap and wriggling," he answered. Pulling me up with him, he sat on the bed and asked, "Front or back?"

 

The suggestion of 'back' made me feel like vomiting but I was unsure how to answer the question. Too many events, too many words and too much fear in one day had made me question everything and while I loved and trusted him, there were certain lengths to which I was not prepared to go. Not wishing to go into detail I stated blandly, "Zaraki, I can't. Really."

 

He raised his eyebrows at me. "You don't want to have sex?"

 

I felt my skin flush as I looked away. I thought he might have understood after the explanation from Retsu regarding the rape and the other questions he had asked, but it seemed that further explanation was necessary. I swallowed hard and opened my lips, but he spoke first.

 

"Do you want to face me, or do you want me to be kissing your spine and stroking you while I plunge into here?" as his fingers slipped into where his penis had recently been.

 

I tried to laugh with relief but it warred with my embarrassment and disquiet. Would I have to tell him, or hope that the question never arose? Instead of a laugh I gurgled. The sound amused me and made me laugh, which I did, pleased when he joined in.

 

"No idea what you're laughing at wife, but this time I want you facing me. That way I can watch your face. Now, straddle me and start wriggling."

 

Again I laughed. Wriggle? Straddle? It sounded an odd way to describe what he wanted, but still giggling slightly I parted my knees and placed one on either side of his thighs. It almost reminded me of the time when we were in Soul Society in the inn. I slowly lowered myself, getting into position and then reached down and grasped Zaraki's penis. He inhaled slightly as I stroked him, instead of guiding him inside immediately.

 

"Can I trust him?" The question was my own and instinctively I obeyed the impulse that accompanied the question. Letting my hand slide down his length my hand encompassed his testicles, holding them tightly. Instead of remaining closed in pleasure, his eyes shot open and the look he gave me showed concern.

 

"Is there a problem, Matsumoto?"

 

His body tensed and he was preparing to act in response. I looked into his eyes but that tinge of red did not appear which eased my concerns.

 

Releasing the pressure slightly I shook my head. "I was checking your reaction," I explained. "I'm not planning on making love with you if that other person is going to emerge."

 

The taste of blood might arouse the 'berserker', but could I be sure that was the only trigger? Since the day Gin and the others had left, I'd found I was questioning many of my beliefs and the 'facts' people told me. Zaraki might have lived with this other self, but until now I had only briefly encountered him and could not be certain what awakened him. While I was desperate to have sex with my husband, a few of his actions were different to those I expected. A further interruption to sex and pleasure which involved another fight, argument or other problem was to be avoided.

 

Instead of laughing or losing his temper a stern look over came his face. "Trust is expected within a marriage. I told you he was subdued and I don't lie."

 

His voice said everything. I'd made another mistake in a long chain of them. When Toshiro had offered to explain tactics, I should have listened instead of having a nap, but perhaps military planning wouldn't apply to a relationship. My normal blundering didn't seem to work too well either. Good intentions led to bad results.

 

Suddenly I didn't feel like sex. I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, hoping that by the time I was ready to stop feeling sorry for myself, everything would be fixed. It had never happened before, but why couldn't it happen once?

 

Trying to distance myself from the mistake I quickly sat as far as I could from Zaraki and looked hopelessly at my hands. Reluctant to speak first, at the same time I wanted to try to make amends. He hated having his word doubted but there had to be some sort of leeway. He knew what was happening, at least more than I did, but being only recently made aware of this new information, I had trouble accepting that I was not under threat.

 

Within the last two hours we had fought and he had tried to kill me and I was terrified of experiencing a recurrence of events. In an effort to safeguard the sex, I'd taken matters too far and now Zaraki was unhappy with me.

 

Reflecting back on all the decisions I'd made that were wrong was depressing, but I did it anyway. To find examples of major errors, I didn't even have to think back very far. Following him here had been a mistake. Since arriving I had blundered around causing problems and hurting feelings. Renji was furious with Rukia, Zaraki and the 12th Division captain were greater enemies than ever before, Captain Kuchiki had been stabbed and....the rest of it didn't bear consideration.

 

"Forgive me. I'll do as you ask and return to the Seireitei," I whispered not daring to look at him. I would cause fewer problems if I left and as the silence continued after I made my offer, there was more chance I would out of Hueco Mundo in the next hour.

 

As my heart sank even lower I shut my eyes in an effort to prevent tears from forming in them. Then I felt my body moving through the air and I was once again straddling Zaraki who was holding me close and murmuring in my ear. Murmuring for him, so it was quite loud but the rumbling voice soothed me as did the words.

 

"Beloved but strange wife, you aren't going back. Not now. You're staying and our child is staying with me until this war is over so I can make certain you don't get into more trouble."

 

He thought I was causing trouble too. My shoulders sagged at the same time as my spirits.

 

"Matsumoto, stop thinking you made it happen. Not everything is your fault."

 

The startling words made me open my eyes and stare at my husband. How did he know? An indulgent smile curved his mouth.

 

"I'll forgive you if you think about fucking me. Now. Or don't you want to have sex?"

 

Being this close to him had made my thoughts stray once more to physical pleasure. His kiss made my body flare into life and I took advantage of the position I was in.

 

"Where were we?" I asked teasingly as I eased him slowly inside me. The lovely feeling of being stretched made me moan as I sank deeper onto him.

 

"That's better. You're finally learning your place." His lips slid down my neck to the base of my throat. "Wherever I want you to be."

 

Once he was fully inside I remembered his request and wriggled slightly.

 

"Again."

 

My body responded and we moved together but it seemed not enough for Zaraki.

 

In a matter of seconds I found I was once more on my back.

 

"It was a whim, but I think I prefer to take you hard right now. I wasn't fighting you, not me exactly, but it got me hot." He pulled my legs apart widely and then sheathed himself fully in me and then began to take me forcefully. The bed shuddered under his thrusts, as did I.

 

As soon as I opened my mouth to question why, I shut it immediately. I had to agree with him. I'd been fighting for my life, that was true and terrifying, but the watching the man move excited me. I'd had to block out fantasies, which he was now fulfilling.

 

"Can we finish this time, please?" I begged. Being taken so close and then being denied had frustrated me considerably and the tension wasn't going away unless he helped.

 

"Close are you?" he asked as he stopped.

 

"NO! Don't do that." I wailed. "I mean don't stop."

 

"You're sure?"

 

My hands went to his thighs and tried to urge him to move. "If you stop, I'll stop too," I threatened. As threats went it was weak, but there was little else I could use.

 

He didn't answer but began thrusting into me while his mouth crushed mine and his tongue caressed the insides of my mouth.

 

I arched against him and found I was coming, moaning loudly into his mouth. Trying to keep my eyes open to watch his face proved to be impossible but I felt his body tense also as he found his release.

 

After recovering my breath and vision I said, "Let's not fight again."

 

Zaraki gave a tired laugh. "Yeah, like that's going to happen. The makeup sex is too good to miss."

 

My effort to reply was thwarted as exhaustion swept over me and I fell asleep.

 

 

A.N.

 

Family, Christmas, travel and summer. Travel, summer, family and Christmas. Whatever. Time consuming.

 

Soundtrack

 

'Superpredators' Massive Attack (as always)

'Any Other Name' Thomas Newman

'This Close' Flyleaf

'Love and Pain' Lucifer

 

The Byakuya/Kiyone one-shot is posted under the title: 'Freedom Lost with Our Innocence'.

 

Review. They sometimes amuse. Thanks to ldymoon, Bastion and Zetsuii for reviewing the last chapter.