Disclaimer: I own nothing but plots, sorry.

Phantom Hands

Ichigo was not in the best of moods. In fact, he hadn't been in a good mood since the start of the year, nearly four months ago. Whether it was his emotions, people, or just the weather making him irritable he didn't know but in his opinion his life was just plain screwed.

But the cream of the crop was when his father had declared him family-less, saying his unstable emotions leading to even less stable reiatsu (1) was a danger to the family and he needed to either get his act together or leave. Of course, that hadn't helped matters, had in fact made them worse and, at a loss, he'd went to Urahara's who'd kept him around for about a month. When both noticed his reiatsu hadn't stabilized at all they'd come to the mutual agreement that he should to to the Soul Society, which ironically Byakuya was the one to escort him to.

Among the past three months he'd studied at the Kuchiki's place, many nonsensical things that he didn't want to begin yet had been forced into and had actually begun to like. He fought with Renji and Kenpachi all the time, pretty much avoided the rest of the captains, and did his best to live normally as a subsitute Soul Reaper on the verge of becoming a full-fledged one, yet still that itchy, cramped feeling he held didn't disipitate.

He'd gone to Byakuya first, who sent him to Unohana, who told him there wasn't an explainable reason as to why he was feeling so. She'd offered to help monitor him every week and try to figure out some way to help him. So far neither of them had found anything. He'd just slowly felt more despicable as the time wore on.

And the worst part was that his Hollow churned just beneath the surface, angry, resentful, searching for something that neither of them could find. It only made his situation worse.

"Ichigo? I thought you were going to Unohana's." Byakuya snuck up behind him-or so it felt like-and sat beside him, his legs stretched out in a relaxed pose completely unlike the noble.

The strawberry shrugged, his power coursing through the air like a liquid current. "I was going to but I felt too restless. I can't stand to move so much right now. My whole body aches."

"..." Byakuya held his silence for what he deemed an appropriate time before turning, one stoic eye pinning the boy in place. "You felt restless or he did?"

Ichigo shrugged again, not really surprised that Byakuya had guessed correctly. "The point is that if I get too close to those people, I'd likely want to kill them." I want to kill them now. He didn't say it; he suspected the noble already knew.

"Be that as it may, you can't neglect your care like this. She must know your feelings, especially at this crucial point in time."

There was no inflection in his voice, no hint that he gave censure yet Ichigo turned swiftly to him, swiping an arm out and forcing him to quickly dodge to the side. The glow in those eyes diminished immediately yet he couldn't get their sight out of his mind; golden, fierce, protective. Scared. It was that last bit that made him stop, rethinking any retaliation he might give. This was just a boy after all, a young man who's body was reacting strangely. Byakuya forced himself to calm down, to breathe normally.

"Ichigo." He didn't speak anymore; the reproach in his voice was more than enough to make his partner flinch and turn away, angered at himself and his lack of control.

"...I'm sorry. I'll go see Captain Unohana now."

x-later that evening-x

Ichigo returned to the nobleman's house, feeling more dejected than ever. She'd told him the same thing she told him every week, that nothing she could see or sense was wrong with him and they'd have to wait till next week to find out more. He didn't want to wait; he just wanted to figure out what the hell was wrong and be done with it! Enough of this itchy feeling, of the need to let out all of his pent-up emotions in one explosive moment.

He made it to his room and shut the door, leaving behind a note in reiatsu like Byakuya had taught him, explaining he didn't want to be disturbed. He needed to get away from it all, to just relax and free his mind for even the shortest of time. He dropped his Zanpaku-to to lean against the wall near his bed, collapsing face-down on the bed with a deep, inborn sigh. The tension in his body released itself slowly, his limbs trembling as they relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages.

An infinate amount of time passed and he slipped deeper, closer to unconsciousness, his head cocooned by soft, downy pillows filled with soothing reiatsu.

His last thoughts were that he hoped his reiryoku (2) kept his powers under control so as to not alert the household that he might be close to losing control.


A twinge of pain, and then his body came alive, spurts of sharp pleasure and tiny hints of discomfort flowing like liquid currents through his body, centering in his stomach and branching out to his toes and skull. He shuddered, his eyes shut tightly to stave off these feelings he wasn't used to, when all of the sudden he felt trembling hands grasp his knees and push his legs up, near his shoulders.

He gasped, whimpered, practically keened as something in him shattered and his whole body felt numb. He heard his own weak pants, close to long pale hair that moved with the air as its owner began to move more forcefully. It actually hurt, his body being forced backwards and into the mattress, his hips tilted at an odd angle.

Dull teeth dug shallowly into his ear and he shuddered, his body tightening as a fireball started in the pit of his stomach. He shut his lips tight, trying to quiet his voice.


What? He tried to say it aloud but his throat wouldn't work; what had his partner whispered so close to his ear? A raspy, whispery voice that slipped through his ears into his body, hardening him beyond his control. Instead of trying to speak again he lifted his arms, pulling that lean form close enough that their nipples brushed, sending shockwaves down to his groin. He tipped his hips farther back, wanting to be closer, to feel that hard thing pushing deeper.

"..." The man whispered something else right before his hands dropped Ichigo's knees after pulling them up around his neck, instead gripping his thighs and pulling the orange-head's legs apart so wide they began to itched, but the new angle from the penetration was enough to completely drown out the feeling.

"NNG!" He actually bit his lip, feeling the hot blood trickle before a thick tongue lapped it up like a dog. He was so close-his body was about to burst! If only his partner would-yes! Right there!

He might have wailed-he definitely grunted-as his dull nails dug into a well-muscled back, leaving behind reddened welts that raised in seconds. Just a little more, a few more thrusts and-

-End Dream-

Ichigo bolted upright, his body still throbbing in need. His thick erection rubbed against his shihakushou and the bed covers, making him twitch and almost moan. Wait...he glanced down after sitting back, startled enough to jump back a few inches. What...just what was that?

Poking out of the middle of his black pants was a thin arm of reiatsu, sliding slowly up and down his cock, an even thinner part tickling farther back, at his innermost parts. He closed his throat on a whimper of need, reaching down to free himself despite what his body wanted. In reaction it tightened, making his eyes widen and his body heat. His head fell back, orange hair plastering itself to his forehead as the reiatsu began to shallowly dip into his body, too reminiscent of his dream to make him comfortable.

Unable to help himself he began to move, his legs spreading and dipping of their own accord and his hips jerking foreword with every movement. His back bowed, his head shoved back against his pillow, gasping and twitching as his body heated up quicker than normal.

"Angh! Ah-ah..." He turned his head to the side and bit his finger, trying to quiet himself as the reiatsu continued shallowly fucking him and stroking him; he was already at his limit, shaking uncontrollably. So good! Ung-ung-mmph!

The reiatsu slithered away, leaving Ichigo feeling empty and impossibly lonely. He collapsed onto the mattress, his limps splayed wide open, his whole form still throbbing with intense heat. He could feel his own sticky substance staining the insides of his thighs and his uniform, dirty and hot. "...I'm so pathetic." He whispered, covering his eyes with a sweaty hand.

Outside the room, Byakuya lowered his hand, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd had no idea Ichigo was so lewd, and he could tell by the sound of the voice he'd heard that it was Ichigo, and not his Hollow. He turned away, making sure his steps were quiet as he went back to his own room to cool himself down. He just hoped the subsitute didn't feel the need to inform him of this development, too.

-the next morning-


"Don't yawn so loudly at the table, Ichigo; it's rude."

Ichigo glared at the noble, his mood even darker than it normally was. His eyes stared with a decided hatred at the sweetened tea in front of him, its smell even more ofputting than yesterday. He knew it, that one remained an unstable brown while the other shown with baleful yellow malice. His Hollow was determined to come out, even if it was just with a small act as this. And he knew what was wrong with him too; he was searching for that familiar strand of reiatsu, wanting it back, wanting that pleasure that had drowned out anything else.

"Captain! It's Renji; may I enter?" The red-headed fukutaichou waited for Byakuya's voice before he entered, prostrating himself dutifully before standing and glancing around. "Ichigo? What're you-nevermind." He took one look at Ichigo's bi-coloured eyes and immediately lowered his head, afraid for another look. He hadn't forgotten what Ichigo's Hollow had done to his captain.

"What? What is it? Say it clearly!" Even his tone was hostile although he tried his hardest for neutral. "Dammit!" He jumped up crashed through the doorway, hating the feel of that fiery reiatsu, so different from the soothing, intoxicating touch of last night.

"Leave him be, Abarai. He needs to figure this out by himself."

Renji shrugged and sat at the table, but he wasn't happy about being left out.


Ichigo collapsed outside, grateful to be away from those strangling reiatsu yet depressed that he had to run. Why couldn't he be normal? Even now, he'd settle for just getting through a freaking meal with others. Was that really so much to ask?

All of the sudden Hichigo awakened inside him, his dark energy swirling out as if seeking, searching for something. A sickly, sweet scent bombarded him, one he didn't recognize yet it seemed so familiar to him. Half afraid, half anticipating he turned, wanting to contront the person that had him in his dreams.

One of the captains stood there-it explained how he'd managed to sneak up behind Ichigo-his shihakushou complete and simple with his Zanpaku-to at his side. He looked weakened but that might just be how his long white hair was plastered to his skin, how he hunched ever so slightly against the wall. He was staring at Ichigo with something akin to shock but quickly shelved it, instead raising a hand in greeting.

"What are you doing here? Go away!" Ichigo snarled, feeling Hichigo too close to the surface. Something about this man made him come alive and he needed to leave before they-meaning himself and his Hollow- did something irreparable.

The captain just stared back at him, a puzzled look on his face. Instead of doing as he'd been ordered he spoke. "So you're Kurosaki Ichigo. Byakuya has been talking a lot about you." His voice was breathy, as if it took too much force to talk. "You're certainly different than I expected."

Dammit, just go away already! Ichigo swiftly turned, preparing to flee no matter that his fierce attitude protested it.


That's all for now, folks. I've had this for months but I'm at a standstill. Figured I'd post this part until I can get around to doing the rest. Uh...stay tuned?

(1) Means spiritual pressure, or the amount of pressure that a person's reiryoku exerts.

(2) Means the amount of spiritual pressure a body contains, or the amount of spiritual pressure a being has stored in their body or soul.