Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Timeless Love ❯ Dreams ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Bleach Characters are courtesy of Tite Kubo. Chiharu-chan is my own creation.

 

 

Upon reaching Ukitake's quarters, he skidded to a stop. His hand came to the doors handle, pushing it off to the side to slam the door open. He raced into the room, finding himself face to face with Ukitake.

 

“Ukitake, do you know who Urahara Chiharu is?!” he heard himself shout, grabbing Ukitake's collar and shaking him slightly. He was shaking as he let go of Ukitake's collar and backed away slightly, he slumped sluggishly into a wall near the open door, a roll of thunder was heard outside.

 

“I've no clue whom you're speaking of, Hitsugaya” he heard the elder man say, nodding his head rather carelessly before stepping from the wall and out of the door; sliding it shut behind himself.

 

He walked slowly back along the wooden paths to his own quarters, the world around him seeming to stop, he knew she had been there. He knew it. He needed to know why no one else knew about her, why no one else knew of her spirit force; was she only showing herself to him, was she a ghost? How could that be, an apparition in Soul Society? It couldn't be; Soul Society was already full of spirits…

 

He shuddered at the thought, could there be a ghost of a girl that was calling to him? He finally reached his own quarters and entered as it started pouring rain outside, he slid the door closed behind him and moved to the couch. He plopped down onto the couch and stared out the window as the rain came down, his thoughts wandering to many different conclusions.

 

Could this be like that book he read, “Night Visitor” was its name. The book revolved around a girl that was of a race called “Macleod,” that was called by the ghost of a piper who had lost his will to live.

 

Could this situation be like that, could this girl be his resolve to continue living? No, it couldn't be, that was just insane. He may have the want to die, but that was just because of his attack by Hinamori.

 

He grumbled under his breath random curses and phrases, shifting where he sat so that his almost now lifeless aquamarine eyes watched the raindrops splatter against the window pane; it reminded him of blood falling against the ground. He tensed as he saw the color of ebony flash in the corner of his eye, and the powerful spirit force had engulfed his very being.

 

He found himself wrapped up in comforting arms, she couldn't be a ghost; she felt so real. He almost purred as he felt her fingertips massage against his scalp, he nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder and realized it was bare; she was naked and against him, and…and their hips were joined.

 

He forced his eyes open, realizing that he had dozed off; but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was another presence with him, one that was there but never seen…his resolve. He stood to his feet quickly and looked around frantically, he noticed how candle after candle were lit, leading him to the sleeping quarters.

 

He entered hesitantly, the presence seeming to invite him with open arms, or maybe he was inviting it. The doors slid closed behind him, the lock twisting on its own to hold the door secure. He felt timid fingertips caress his chest, through his uniform; a shudder ran down his spine as he tried to step closer to his invisible temptress.

 

He was pushed back roughly onto the bed, his eyes watching as the air in front of and above him contorted to show the shape of his “captor,” she was truly a sight to behold when she was naked.

 

Her skin was completely pale, deathly pale, a dead pale; but it felt so alive, she felt so alive. Each tentative touch she left on his body brought his own flesh to a heated simmer and he tried to disrobe himself, he wanted his invisible mistress; to the point he was in such distress and straining against his very morals of being.

 

He shuddered, letting his eyes fall to a close as he felt his tormentor lower his hakama pants to the floor. Only seconds passed before his eyes snapped open and he stared down toward the distorted air, was this normal in courting? Was this, what this phantom of seduction was doing to him, normal?

 

Then he felt his energy surge, his hips bucked off the bed slightly and he saw his own white release arch through the air as if his temptress was not there; and he realized, she was never there. He took his hand from his length, a groan of disapproval left his throat before he stood and pulled his pants back up; retying the sash about his waist tightly and stepping away toward his bathing quarters.

 

He washed his hands clean of his release, a grumble leaving his lips as he cursed whatever gods existed to the already dead. He wanted to know what this bullshit meant, was it just that, bullshit? Or did it have some sort of hidden meaning? He did feel more energized, and he felt better than he had in months…nay, years.

 

He stretched himself out, groaning as the tendons of his back stretched, pulled, and the joints lightly popped. He turned his gaze off to the installment he had placed into his bathroom, a “shower,” is what the people from the living world called it. He sighed, hanging his head slightly; he decided to shower as to not smell like a foot.