I was confused, which wasn't a normal state of mind for me. I'm usually rather level-headed. I'm logical and not prone to impulsiveness or irrationality.

Despite all that, there I was, staring at Kurosaki Ichigo. Him being peculiar wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but I could swear that I actually saw two of him. Impossible, right? But there it was... a blurry pale shadow of him, echoing his movements above me. I was either hallucinating or my glasses needed a very thorough cleaning.

He tilted his head towards mine and nipped at my chin. That brought me back to what I was supposed to be concentrating on. How rude of me to get sidetracked at a time like this...

I put my hands to either side of Ichigo's face. His eyes bored into mine and I didn't see anything but him. The shadow was gone. I pressed my lips firmly to his, my tongue darting out, seeking entry to his mouth. He opened for me and I relished in the taste of him. He broke from my grip abruptly and let out a low growl. His hips ground into me as he resumed his rhythmic thrusting.

He moved his head toward mine, to bury his face in my neck. I kneaded the skin of his back. I could feel his muscles, taut and rippling, as he worked. I felt his breath burn a trail down my neck, kisses and nibbles following the same path. I closed my eyes and shuddered. Whatever his faults, his technique was certainly not one of them.

"Kurosaki..." My breath escaped me in a sigh.

His tenderness stopped and he bit into my neck. Hard. I froze in his embrace, and he slowed his pace. I slid one of my hands into his hair and grasped it tightly. I tried to pull his face from my neck so I could see him. All I got for my efforts was an even harder bite.

"Ouch! What the hell- "My words were cut off when Ichigo lifted his head enough to look at me. I swallowed audibly.

It was back, his special little shadow, but it wasn't the same anymore. I had seen this before... I knew there was another consciousness inside him, but it wasn't something I saw often, and only in the midst of fighting had it appeared.

Was I imagining things?

Ichigo's features were nearly misty, covered in a glaze of white, except his eyes. His eyes were absolutely clear and completely black. Their yellow irises were blazing at me. When I didn't move, a slow grin split his face, so uncharacteristic of Ichigo himself. I didn't move, I could only stare.

"Aww..." A distorted voice from Ichigo's throat. "Is the Quincy scared?" The end of his sentence was punctuated by a particularly deep thrust. A soft sound escaped my throat and a little thrill went up my spine, despite the niggle of fear in my mind. This wasn't Ichigo anymore.

My brows pulled together and my mouth quirked in a sneer as I pulled myself up on my elbows. The movement pushed the man back, though his lower half only pushed into me harder. Painfully so.

"Of a mere shinigami?" I continued to push myself up and he let me. I leaned into him until I could feel my breath blow back to me from his lips. "You'll have to try harder than that."

The yellow eyes flashed with a mischievous light. He moved nearly too fast for me to track. He grasped my wrists in one hand, my hip in the other and pulled away from me quickly. Before I knew it, we tumbled to the floor. My glasses were askew and the side of my face was pressed into the wood beneath me.

The impostor Ichigo's fingers tangled in my hair and held my head in place. He adjusted himself behind me and I let out a scream when he slammed inside. It was deeper this way, and whatever persona was inhabiting him now wasn't considerate.

His flesh smacked into mine in loud claps. My cheek and knees were scraped against the hardness under them and primal sounds escaped me with every move. I wriggled my arms, but I was only pushed into the floor harder, a hand grasping my hip tight enough to bruise.

"You should be afraid..." The fake Ichigo pulled violently on my hair, bringing my back flush against his chest.

"I don't think so." My tone was challenging, but the firm grip he had on me softened.

"You don't think what?" Ichigo paused in his rhythm. He slipped his arms around my torso to glide gently over my nipples and further down to tease my engorged flesh. He laid soft kisses at the nape of my neck and I was once again rendered motionless.

He moved his head over my shoulder and cupped my chin from behind. With soft pressure, he pushed my face to the side so I could see his eyes. They were chocolate brown without any sadistic ghostly shadows.

I must have lost my mind. Nothing like this had ever happened before. In one moment, it seemed that his darker half was threatening something awful, and the next, it was all passion and vivacious sex. What I was experiencing was in stark contrast to the reality it should have been. Didn't I say I was level-headed?

He captured my lips with his. They were gentle, and so was his probing tongue when it wrapped around my own. He, once again, began to move inside me. After the earlier assault, I was grateful for this change of pace. Gentle was about the right speed.

I reached an arm behind me to bury my fingers in his spiky hair as the kiss deepened. I sighed into his mouth and he pumped me in time to his hips. Heat radiated from his touch and my whole body began to tingle. I moved back to meet his thrusts and our rhythm began to falter.

A sudden pain on my bottom lip forced me to wrench away from him. "Kurosaki! What the hell? I am not amused!" I wasn't surprised to hear him chuckle with that tainted voice in response. I lifted a hand to my chin and came away with blood. "I've had enough of- " I started to object, but I was brutally pushed into the nearby wall.

I tried to cushion the blow with my hands, but to no avail. My glasses were squashed in the process – one of the lenses breaking as I hit the plaster. It was so fast that they cut the bridge of my nose when they were pushed across my face.

I was once again with the fake Ichigo. He grasped my wrists and forced my arms behind my back. The already sore side of my face was pushed into the wall this time. I'd have marks of this encounter for days.

"Harder it is, then, little Quincy." I was once again assaulted from behind. It was worse this time. Each movement was more vicious than the last, and my head slammed against the wall. I thought I heard it crack a few times, though I was fast losing my lucidity.

It was damn painful, but small noises escaped me anyway. Grunts and unclear curses came from behind me. I tried to relax my muscles to endure it all, but my shoulders were pulled tight. This was meant to be uncomfortable.

The dark Ichigo's breath was coming fast and unsteady, and though I didn't want to enjoy his attentions, mine joined his on the way to climax. With a few final growls, he reached the pinnacle of his pleasure and spilled himself inside me. I felt an answering call and arched my back as I did the same.

A moment later, I was released and heard a thump. I turned to find that Ichigo, without the ghostly white shadow, had slumped on the ground. He seemed to be unconscious. I stepped over him carefully and crawled onto the bed. My limbs were shaky and my mind wasn't doing much better.

I sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets over my lower half. It felt like I was swaying in little circles and was almost nauseous. I wanted to do nothing else but go to sleep. Not an encouraging sign. I pulled my broken glasses off and held them in my lap. I was practically seeing double. The beating my head had just taken might have something to do with that.

A groan floated up from the floor and I watched Ichigo pull himself up through blurry eyes. He sat on his knees and shook his head as if to clear it. He grabbed his messy pile of clothes and stood to dress himself. I just watched him silently. My head was fuzzy and I was thoroughly confused. Ichigo hadn't really transformed into anything, had he? I couldn't be sure through all my mental fog. He had been rough, much more than usual, but he seemed normal now. He was normal in the midst of it all, too. For a little while, at least.

After he was fully clothed, he sat on the bed beside me. The jiggling made my stomach flip over and I swallowed the nausea. Ichigo turned to me as if nothing were wrong and moved to kiss me. He stopped close to my face and raised a finger to my lips instead. He traced around the cut there, down my chin, following the smear of blood. Then he moved to the side of my face that was undoubtedly turning into a few unsightly shades.

"What were you thinking?" I moved back from his hand and stared at my broken lens. Unbelievable.

He glanced to where I was looking and raised an eyebrow. "Why are your glasses broken?"

My mouth opened in surprise. "You mean... you don't... what..." I stammered. He didn't seem to have a clue what happened. I wasn't entirely sure I was certain of the events, either. Perhaps I was suffering from temporary insanity. Maybe I was in a delirium, however unlikely I thought that to be.

Ichigo gently pushed me into the bed, taking my ruined glasses away and setting them on the nightstand. He situated the sheets over me and stared at my bloodied mouth with a strange expression. I couldn't tell what he was thinking and I wasn't entirely sure I really wanted to know. I decided I'd write the whole incident off as stress-induced hallucinations and keep my embarrassment to myself.

Ichigo raised his fingers to his mouth, his tongue snaking out to run across his lips. His eyes widened with his thoughts and he abruptly stood.

"Get some rest, you'll need it." He headed straight for the door, walking out of my room and shutting it behind him with a final click. When I heard his muffled curses fading down the hall, I thought that maybe I hadn't been imagining things or hallucinating one bit. Perhaps I wasn't so delirious after all.