Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ For The Love of a Friend ❯ A Dream of Love ( Chapter 21 )

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

 

A Dream of Love

 

Even though he was asleep, he heard the door open and someone enter the room but he dismissed it as part of a dream. When he heard the rustle of material falling to the floor, he decided it could just be his imagination. When the sheet was pulled back he almost reached for his weapon to attack whoever had followed him to this place, but he heard a voice assuring him it was a dream. He knew that voice, he remembered the last time she had spoken to him she had accused him of taking Shunsui as a lover.

 

“You're asleep. This is all a dream. Just a dream.”

 

Peering through his lashes he saw Soi, naked and alluring, fondling his cock with enthusiasm, but little skill. Seeing her nude in the bed knowing it was her hand touching him brought him to erection quickly, much quicker than her clumsy ministrations. She seemed to use the same technique he'd seen Shinigami use for polishing swords: rubbing hardly and briskly, trying to get the job done and the sword back into its scabbard. Involuntarily he moved away from her, to make more room for her on the bed.

 

For a second he wondered if he should reject her, the unresolved anger surfacing briefly, making his hands clench and his pulse increase, but he wanted her. “I'll fuck her, then get angry with her and fight her. Maybe we will kill each other,” he decided. That worked for him. He'd let her take the lead for the moment and then he'd pin her down and have her the way he wanted, making her moan for him and demand he take her over and over again. Having sex with her didn't mean he forgave her.

 

A rush of pleasurable anticipation overcame him. She had found out where he was and followed him, but she wanted him to believe it was a dream. It reinforced her lack of experience with males that she thought he could sleep through this. Would she remain asleep if he climbed into her bed and started arousing her? It wasn't likely, but if she wanted to believe that, he'd let her.

 

“Soi. Oh Soi, that feels good,” he told her keeping his eyes shut and his voice husky. Did people normally talk in their sleep when they were dreaming? He wasn't too sure, but he wanted to provide some encouragement.

 

She again told him it was a dream. He decided to tease her a little in return.

 

“A dream? I like this dream. I want you but you've been acting like a bitch,” he murmured his eyes still shut. Would she try to kill him for the insult or was she so desperate for sex that she'd overlook it? Maybe he hadn't thought it through, but it might be the sort of thing he'd say if he were dreaming. He didn't know.

 

Her hand didn't slow, but touched him more strongly. One day, if they became lovers again, which wasn't likely, he'd have to show her how to handle his cock less painfully but he wasn't in a position to complain.

 

“It's not me. I'm not really here. You're dreaming this,” he heard her say before she mounted him. As he slid into her he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his face expressionless. Her wet heat was incredible and he longed for a hard, urgent joining. Of course he didn't act on the yearning or she'd guess he was awake. His anger was being overset by his lust and he preferred to give into the lust. It was more gratifying.

 

“This is a dream,” he said and thrust upwards. “As this is a dream you'll kiss me.” He sounded almost awake but his voice remained soft, and his eyes closed while his face was expressionless.

 

This was a test. If she kissed him it meant she cared or was so in need for sex that she'd be prepared to compromise. The fact that she'd followed him indicated that she was more than ready to compromise. Why shouldn't he gain some advantage from it?

 

“Yes,” she answered and kissed him. Without meaning to his arms encircled and he pulled her closer kissing her as if he were fully awake. She must know he wasn't sleeping by now. She kissed him deeper and their tongues entwined. For once she didn't end the kiss swiftly and even stopped screwing him while they kissed. It was exceptionally sweet. If she'd permitted him to kiss her like that more often he didn't think he'd be confused about how he felt about her. He'd know he was in love with her.

 

Finally pulling his mouth from hers, he said, “My dreams aren't normally this good.” Some of the anger had been dispelled by the kiss making it easier to speak quietly.

 

Soi began to move on him, and he cupped her buttocks, gripping them tightly feeling the firm muscles in the palms of his hands. Trying to be careful he tried to adjust her speed so she was moving on him faster.

 

Her breath quickening again she spoke “This is a dream.”

 

Toshiro had to fight to keep a smile from stealing across his face. It wasn't possible she could consider that he was still sleeping through this. If she wanted to believe that he wasn't going to disillusion her, at least not yet.

 

His body straining against hers as he kept thrusting upwards, his eyes shut, he nodded. “A dream. A wet dream.”

 

She sped up pushing onto him faster and it was obvious that the sex was distracting her and making her less observant that normal. Opening his eye a little he noticed she had her eyes closed. He quickly gazed at her body, taking in the visual image of the woman who was screwing him with abandon. As she was taking advantage of his `sleep' he decided to push her a little further. In the time they had spent together he had never been certain about how she felt about him and that confused him, especially where his feelings for her were concerned. If she cared for him, even a little, that might assist him in making a decision about what he should do, but would she make any admission? What did it matter? If she was insisting this was a dream he could ask and do anything, except wake up.

 

“A dream. Tell me you like me, Soi.”

 

She responded immediately, “I like you, Toshiro.”

 

He bit his tongue to prevent a gasp exploding out of his mouth. The speed of her answer indicated that she either liked him or didn't care what she said. But the tone of her voice was softer than normal and the way she said his name was almost like a caress. For now he would believe her words since he wanted to accept them as true. While he might want to think about it further, he could feel his climax approaching and couldn't concentrate. Instead he responded as he felt best. Finally he was permitted to express a small part of his feelings for this difficult but fascinating woman.

 

“I like you too Soi. I wish I could tell you, but this is only a dream.”

 

As soon as he finished speaking, Soi reached her orgasm, and shuddered as she whispered his name. At least he thought that was what she'd said, but he couldn't be certain as her climax triggered his and with more pleasure than normal. He allowed the enjoyment to dominate his existence while it lasted.

 

Expecting that she would immediately dress and leave, the shock of her lips possessing his almost made him start but he exerted his hard won discipline and kissed her in return. He wanted to embrace her and tug her down to lie beside him but that would really make it impossible for her to believe that he was still asleep. Too soon she rose and he heard the rustle of her clothes as she dressed. He watched as her back was to him admiring her spine, her fine buttocks and neat waist and well shaped legs until they were covered. If only they could put aside the pretence and she could remain with him for the night; but he was pretty certain her pride would not allow that to happen. Noticing that she was beginning to turn around he shut his eyes again and lay as if still unaware.

 

“This was a dream,” she whispered in his ear.

 

“Yes, Soi. It was a dream,” he said his eyes still shut unable to prevent a small smile forming on his face. “I'm pleased I dreamt of you.”

 

Turning over sleepily he settled down his arms lazily stretched in front of him. Sighing gently he acted as if he was drifting back into an interrupted sleep and heard Soi exhale, nearly in response and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. The quiet sound of her footsteps diminished quickly and her reiatsu became fainter. The possibility that she would return faded as the seconds passed.

 

He waited a few minutes more and then sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. What was he going to do? Could he follow her; make his way into her bedroom and tell her it was a dream while he returned the favour? Letting his imagination take over, a vision of Soi accepting him as eagerly as he welcomed her, despite the insistence on it being a dream formed in his mind. A night spent together when he didn't fall asleep or fight with Soi while they constantly assured each other that it was a dream and had sex that was both gentle and passionate. Or maybe hard and urgent. Or both.

 

Reality intruded and he accepted that it wouldn't work. The possibility that Soi would pretend to remain asleep or even permit him to enter her room unchallenged was so slim as to be non-existent. If she heard the noise of his movements when she expected to remain undisturbed she would react. Not only that but he was certain that at this time of uncertainty some Shinigami under her command would be observing her quarters. That was possibly why Yoruichi had organised this place for her trysts so she could meet her lovers unobserved.

 

Getting up, he washed and drank some water and then smoothed the ruffled sheets before returning to the bed. He couldn't return to his own quarters with Nemu there. If Soi had known he was here, she must have known about Nemu's visit. Then why hadn't she jumped to the conclusion that he was sleeping with her? She had very quickly believed that he was involved with Shunsui, and from that conversation they'd had the morning she'd formed that opinion she must have questioned Kiyone very closely about her involvement with Toshiro. That meant Soi might be jealous. He'd dismissed the thought before, but her recent actions seemed to confirm it. Either that or she was just irrational and didn't know what she wanted. She was a woman after all and he'd witnessed first hand both Momo's and Matsumoto's illogical actions and beliefs.

 

Wishing he hadn't thought of Matsumoto he turned over and tried to settle to sleep but it was hard to stop the anger he felt raging within him. Anger at Kiyone for putting him in that position with Captain Ukitake; with Soi for being difficult; with Shunsui for causing the situation with Kiyone, but most of all he felt anger at the traitors. Furiously he shifted in the bed, trying to drag his mind from all the matters that were keeping him awake. Again he turned over in the bed, jerking into a new and possibly comfortable position but it didn't seem to help. His breathing quickened and he brooded over the recent events which had thrown his ordered routine into a shambles. Sweat formed in the creased behind his knees, on the back of his neck and on his chest as the anger increased he temperature of his body. This was abnormal as he normally became colder, not hotter, but tonight the rage was lasting longer and having a different effect.

 

It wasn't anger that was causing this reaction. It was fear; caused by the length of time it had been since Matsumoto had been abducted and the growing dread that she was no longer alive. For most people, fear made then cold, for him it heated him until he finally managed to get his anger to cool the situation. He was being forced into a position where he had to acknowledge his feelings for his lieutenant, his friend and his lover and it was unpleasant.

 

“If Zaraki doesn't return with Matsumoto tomorrow I'm going after both of them. This forced inactivity by the old man makes me wonder what he's planning. Why isn't he organising training? Why aren't we sharing information? And why the hell did he push the situation with Zaraki? The man's not always contrary. It was obvious to all of us he was going to follow his wife. It would have been easier if Yamamoto had orchestrated the building of the pathway, but instead we were forced to work in secret. Why?”

 

Then something became clear. He counted the number of Captains and Divisions that were involved in helping make the passageway happen. Only three Captains and three Divisions abstained. Even Captain Kuchiki had helped with the passageway, Renji complaining all the while, and Toshiro hadn't even wondered why they were there. It seemed uncharacteristic of the man. He remembered the clever methods he had suggested to make the work proceed more quickly and the occasional cutting comments he made to Zaraki when the man seemed about to lose control. For some reason the cool observations seemed to snap Zaraki out of his rage and make him more determined to work harder.

 

Throughout the time he remembered that Byakuya had kept his distance from Kiyone, often moving deliberately away when she came too close. He had seen her watch him and the disappointment in her face every time he ignored her words. When Kiyone had tried so clumsily to seduce him, Toshiro realised he must have subconsciously remembered those half understood observations.

 

For some reason, remembering the near camaraderie that was established as they worked together soothed Toshiro. He and Soi had worked side by side and he relished how their hands had occasionally brushed against each other. Instead of the normal reaction of disdain and disgust she had evidenced except when they were fucking, she had appeared to ignore the contact and worked on. He wanted that Soi, the determined woman who could admit she was wrong and then try help by any method she could.

 

Finding these memories relaxing he drifted into a restless sleep that was broken by a great weight he felt pressing down on him. Opening his eyes he couldn't see any physical reason for the pressure.

 

“What's happening?” he asked the empty room. Struggling from between the sheets that seemed determined to keep him in the bed, he dressed and while dressing obtained a location of where the pressure was emanating. It seemed to be coming from 4th Division.

 

Going onto the rooftops he raced toward the feeling. It was reiatsu out of control, flaring then crashing down, like waves pounding onto the uncaring beach. Dimly he began to distinguish the feeling.

 

He was not the only person heading in the direction. On the ground he noticed people hurrying, many of them members of his Division and the 11th Division. None of them were talking; instead they seemed intent on getting to the source of the disturbance as quickly as possible. Strangely he didn't see any sign of Yamamoto, who he was sure would be aware of the disturbance. Vainly he searched for the reiatsu of his lieutenant but could not discern it, disguised as all other spirit energy was by the undisciplined surges.

 

Reaching the 4th Division compound he saw that Isane was standing there, her face grave, seemingly awaiting the arrival of the throng. She nodded when she saw Toshiro and started slightly when she saw Soi. Her amazement was nothing to that Toshiro felt when he beheld his `dream' lover. Her glance registered and then dismissed him. All the pleasure and anticipation he hadn't known he was feeling deserted him through that one glance. Maybe that experience last night had been a dream after all.

 

He heard someone speaking and he dragged his attention to Isane who was trying to speak clearly over the small amount of noise.

 

“Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto had been rescued by the unofficial party. She is severely injured and requires urgent attention. I ask all of you to try to keep your injuries to a minimum today, especially 11th Division. We are not permitting any visitors today.” She tried a weak smile as she made the comment, but the fear in her eyes did not leave and no one laughed at the joke.

 

“Did any of the party die?” The speaker was Soi and she had her attention solely focused on the 4th Division lieutenant and she seemed to be worried about the answer.

 

Toshiro wondered who she was concerned about. Was Soi interested in Ikkaku or Yumichika? Has she chosen one of them as her lover? He felt a flicker of jealousy at the thought. It couldn't be Ikkaku; or could it? He might be sleeping with both Nemu and Soi, but neither of them knew about the other. Or maybe she was sharing Yumichika's bed. She preferred women and he was pretty enough to be a woman and wouldn't appear threatening to her. Had she moved on after their affair had ended so recently? Was she only using him last night while she waited for her new lover to return? He felt his heart harden against her. She had pretended it was a dream because she didn't want to admit she'd been unfaithful. That had to be the explanation and the reason she had rejected him so quickly the morning after the abduction. But that didn't tie in with her reaction to Shunsui. Immediately the jealousy ebbed but the confusion remained. Soon he had to find the truth in this maze of complexity. He didn't want to start reacting as illogically as Soi.

 

“Their injuries are minor. Now I must go and assist my captain,” Isane said and Toshiro noticed a tear trickling down her cheek.

 

He started forward but Shunsui was beside him and patted him on the shoulder. “I'll ask for you,” his friend told him. “She might answer me.”

 

Quickly he went forward and spoke to Isane who answered him briefly without looking into his face. A few words passed and she bowed slightly and entered the building where Momo and he supposed Matsumoto were being kept.

 

Shunsui stayed where he was, but now leaning against the wall. Finally he turned and walked back. As he approached Toshiro noticed he was white around the lips and his eyes were slightly glazed.

 

“Tell me. I have to know,” Toshiro urged wanting to shake the words out of the man. Instead he reached up and placed his hands on his shoulders, trying to make contact with him so he could obtain an answer.

 

“Ran is….Ran is. No. It can't be true.” Shunsui clutched at Toshiro's shoulder and shook his head hard. He seemed to have all the strength drawn out of him.

 

Toshiro swallowed hard and then forced himself to utter the words he didn't want to say. “Is she dead?”

 

Now he'd said the words aloud he felt his stomach lurch in fear and depression settled on him so fast he didn't know how to react. Dead. The word had been uttered and it lingered in the air, heavy and grim.

 

Shunsui gulped also and bit his lip hard then slowly opened his mouth as if preparing to talk.

 

“Stop being so dramatic Captain Kyoraku,” Soi scolded harshly. So intent had Toshiro been on the answer he hadn't noticed that she was standing near. “Answer the question. Is the lieutenant still alive?”

 

“She's dying,” the words were wrung out of Shunsui. He placed a hand on his face and seemed amazed to find his face was wet. “My friend is dying and I can't see her.”

 

Pushing Shunsui away, Toshiro turned and fought his way through the crowd almost drawing his blade to make his progress faster. He had to get away from this press of people and have some time to think. He couldn't be near anyone now; it wasn't possible to bear the demands of someone else's company. Without considering the matter he went to the place he had slept the previous night, shoved the door shut and then sat on the floor. His eyes stared straight ahead but he couldn't see what he was looking at. His heart beat and each pulse of blood screamed through his body as he thought of Matsumoto dying. He'd miss her more than he'd miss Momo and he didn't want to miss either of them. His eyes felt hot as he continued to stare at the floor, but inside he felt cold. Once again he felt he was freezing, sealing himself against all others, the way he had been before Matsumoto had found him and helped him find the warmth of friendship. The cold spread through him, slowing the rage within his blood, cooling the heat of his eyes, hardening his heart. Cold wrath blossomed within him and he felt the urge to kill anyone, everyone, but most of all he wanted to kill the traitors who had done this. Why kill Matsumoto? Was Ichimaru that unforgiving that he had to kill the woman he'd rejected who'd finally found love with someone else, or was there another reason? Remembering the times she had teased him and made him do her work as well as his own made it worse. All the times she had hugged him and he had struggled to remove himself from the soft embrace of Matsumoto when he secretly enjoyed the affectionate gestures. She had always cared about him. He couldn't think of her; he wouldn't think of her dying.

 

“She won't die,” a small, stern voice reassured him.

 

Without looking up he answered, not wanting any company. “I don't know that and neither do you. Get lost Soi. I don't want you here.” Strangely there was no surprise in his mind that she had followed him. If he could feel anything he'd be amazed that she was trying to offer comfort, but there was no room for him to feel anything more.

 

`Stop being a selfish, indulgent fool, Toshiro. You're not the only person who's worried about her,” her tart voice actually made him look up at the woman who was standing in front of him.

 

“Fuck off Soi. I'm not in the mood to listen to you,” he shouted at her. At least this was one way he could release some of the overpowering rage he felt. It felt strange yelling at the woman while he was sitting down so he got to his feet and glowered at her. If she said anything else he'd crush her. He'd ice her and she would never torment him again.

 

Stepping back she glared at him and her hand was hovering over the handle of her zanpakuto. “Can't you feel the reiatsu? Kenpachi is barely keeping it together. He's still in 4th Division but they'll have to get him out of there soon. He'd interfere with any attempts to heal and he'll be out of control. Get a grip Toshiro,” she said her words hissing through her tight lips.

 

“That's not my problem,” he said sidling closer. She wanted to fight; he'd fight her, gladly, to the death. Maybe that would ease some of the pain he was feeling.

 

“Yes it is. Retsu's trying to save your lieutenant; we both know how she struggles to prevent anyone dying and she's friends with Ran. She's probably hurting more than…”

 

“Not my problem,” he said again, then grabbed Soi and kissed her hard. Why he did it he didn't know or care and it was a way to make her keep quiet. There was no love, no lust, and no friendship in the kiss. It was one born of anger and frustration and he clamped her arms by her sides while pressing his mouth firmly against hers.

 

She jerked her mouth from his, gave him a look that promised bloodshed and then kissed him hard in return and he felt his mouth beginning to bruise from the pressure of her lips on his. He tasted salt and thought it was blood, but it didn't have the familiar coppery smell or metallic taste. Tugging his mouth from hers he looked and didn't believe that single trace of moisture that he saw on her face. It must be that he'd hurt her. That could be the only explanation for that tear. Abruptly he released her and stepped back. He had never seen her cry from pain; he'd never seen her cry. Did this mean she was feeling sorrow and the tear was an expression of her sadness? That couldn't be correct. This woman had only ever shown him anger, pride and lust. When she thought he was asleep she had shown a softer side, but this was unexpected. How could she express her emotion when he was still fighting his?

 

“Don't pretend. I didn't know you could cry on demand,” he said viciously wanting to hurt her for being able to cry.

 

Rubbing at her cheek with one hand she slapped at him with the other but he'd been expecting her reaction. He grabbed her arm and stared at her intently. He may as well say what he was thinking. “Let's not fool ourselves. We both want to be naked and screwing each other so we don't have to think about anything else.”

 

“I'm not an animal, Captain Hitsugaya. I don't respond to grief by falling into bed with the first convenient partner,” she argued, but he kissed her to stop the words emerging from her mouth.

 

Instead of pushing him away, or hitting him in the stomach, she tugged at his shirt, his hair, alternately pulling him closer and trying to undress him. She undid the ties that fastened his hakama her fingers rapidly undoing anything that got in her way.

 

“I thought you weren't an animal. You said we were over,” Toshiro said, his voice roughened by the strong feelings he refused to acknowledge.

 

“This changes nothing,” she said harshly. “I'm trying to console you.” Her busy hands did not cease moving and as she tugged impatiently he heard stiches break.

 

He'd been led to believe that consolation was usually gentle and caring, not gritty and passionate. An answer to her assertion immediately rose to his lips, but for once he thought about the words before he said anything. Telling her that she wanted the `consolation' as much as he did would only make her angry and she might leave. He had a choice: to talk which would end this now; or to accept and participate. The longing to be with her again, focusing on the pleasure they could bring each other rather than the upsetting thoughts that were forcing unwanted emotions to war within him made him acknowledge that there was no need to choose. His body had already made the decision for him.

 

Their coupling this time was hard, quick and urgent with no gentleness or kissing. They fell on the bed, removing only those items that were necessary, not wanting to wait those minutes it took to strip. Being naked wasn't necessary. This wasn't about love or even sex. It was about forgetfulness and need and anger. Avid fingers caused bruises; the large purple flowers swelling under the flesh caused by the pressure of the grappling hands. But Toshiro didn't notice any pain. He kept his eyes fixed on the furious, lustful gaze of Soi and knew it reflected the expression on his face. Nails raked his skin, making blood seep through the shallow cuts as his mouth battened on her neck, her chest. First he was on top, then she pushed him on his back until he again pinned her to the bed. It became a battle for supremacy as much as a means to find release.

 

They were two bodies joined together in a frenzy of passion that they used to hide their fear and grief. No words were spoken, the only sounds were the harsh breathing and the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh as urgency dictated. There was no foreplay or tender touching as they pushed against each other, working into a frantic rhythm that brought orgasm and a brief interval in the rotation of his thoughts.

 

A.N.

 

4 days behind `Different Circumstances'.

 

None of you really though Toshiro was asleep in the last chapter, did you?

 

Review. I like reviews.

 

Thanks to Mors', sheastarr334, ldymoon and PBallPsycho for the reviews. You keep reviewing and I'll probably keep writing.

 

The third story featuring Zaraki and Matsumoto is already there titled `Obsidian and Alabaster'.

 

Also thanks to Bastion.

 

Soundtrack:

 

`Turn In, Tune Out, Cop Out' Freakpower

`The Sky is a Poisonous Garden' Concrete Blonde

`B.P. Empire' Infected Mushroom