I hated Shinji. In a way, I guess I still do. He kept me locked up while my friends had run off without me, getting themselves captured, killed, or who knew what else? I still don't remember how long I was walled off from the outside world. It could've been just another month. It could have been a year.


That day was the absolute best and worst day of my life.

Fear For Divine II(Lust of the Gods)

"Hello again."

Ichigo groaned, opening his eyes to find the juniper green of Ulquiorra's staring back at him. He didn't have to glance about in panic this time, to know where he was. He must've passed out from the blood loss and the blackness had probably dragged him here. Grimacing, he took the extended hand and allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet. Only then did he notice the disheveled state of his body's keeper.

"Holy shit."

Her smooth, silken hair was matted with blood, as was her bosom. There were numerous rips and holes in her sleeves and leggings, suggesting that she had recently been in battle. She leaned heavily against the altar for support, her hands trembling as they struggled to maintain a grip on the polished stone. The broken helmet she wore, now bore a large crack down the center. Even her breathing was weak and unsteady.

"Do not."Her eyes, however weak she was, had not lost that cold, all consuming fire. "Do not touch me, Ichigo." They narrowed when he reached one hand toward her, rejecting his pity. When she spoke, her voice was as soft as velvet, and sharp as razorblades. "The time is not yet ripe."

Unsure of what else to say, what to do, Ichigo drew back, a pained expression filling his face. He had the horrible sensation that he was at fault for her injury, and his inability to aid Ulquiorra was heartbreaking. Torn between anger and sadness, he stood there, staring blankly at her.

"I see you've met him." She interrupted softly, answering the unspoken question. "The other me. You wounded him quite badly, Ichigo. I commend you for your efforts, truly." Slowly, with a slight limp, she stepped aside, revealing the sword altar and its seven chains. One chain, curled about the blade's outter pommel, had begun to glow most prominently, outshining its bretheren with ease. Ulquiorra indicated it with her finger.

"Your righteous rage has shattered this curse."

"Wow." Ichigo stared at the chain, its ruby red light gleaming brightly, blotting out all else. It beckoned to him, calling him, begging to be touched as he approached. Tentatively, he did so, and as his fingers curled about the first link, the binding abruptly shattered, leaving nowhere else for its power to flow but into the man who had once held it. Having expereinced this once before, Ichigo had thought himself prepared for the effects.

He was not.

Kurosaki Ichigo screamed as the power surged into his legs, forcing him to arch his back and shoulders as it flooded into his arms. It felt as if all the bones in his body were being removed, rearranged and re-inserted upside down. It was the worst pain he'd ever weathered in his life. What remained of the chain wrapped itself around his right arm now, forming a thin black glove for his hand, which kept the chain bound in place. At a loss to stop it all, Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, clenching his jaw in order to prevent himself from choking on his own tongue.

Something sharp stabbed into his mind, though there was no weapon present to do so. There was a flash of images, accompanied by the tail end of a conversation, two single sentences, burning themselves into his brain.

'We'll be together forever, won't we, Ichigo?'

'Yeah, of course we will! We're best friends, after all!'

And as suddenly as it had begun, it was done. The memory was gone, leaving on confusion and pain in its place. Collapsing to his hands and knees, the vizard's body still steaming and smoking from the dying flames, Ichigo greedily inhaled, drawing air in large, unsteady gasps. Again, Ulquiorra offered her hand, and again he took it, unflinching as she immediately drew herself away from him.

"Behold, Ichigo." Ulquiorra waved a hand, a wide two by four mirror appeared in front of the vizard. "Your real self continues to emerge." Ichigo obeyed and stared into the glass, eyes wide and disbelieving at the stranger who greeted his gaze. This Ichigo's hair had grown significantly, falling down across the chalk white skin of his shoulders. Ichigo could not help but gape at it, this god of a man who stared back at him. The pale reflection grinned, its black lips pulling into a cruel sneer. Those burning golden eyes, bordered by black sclera, held him in place.

Then the other Ichigo flicked his wrist, and mirror before him shattered.

"That, was the chain of wrath." Ulquiorra explained weakly. "By breaking it, you've not only increased your strength, Ichigo, but you've also regained some of your original appearance. You can also use your Bala, once again. Congratulations. Remember, anger is indeed a powerful ally, but too much of it will send you into a rage, Ichigo. Take care not to lose sight of the line between friend and foe, lest you lose yourself as well."

The stone covering the sword's handle crumbled away, revealing a myriad of gems embedded into a small circle upon the handle. Most of which were still encased in stone and chains, but what had been revealed as a lovely green emerald, which shone like the sun. Ichigo smiled as the jewel gleamed, spraying its warm light across the aisle and into the windows, creating a myriad rainbow of assorted colors. He felt, calm. As if all his doubts had been washed away, replaced only by the certainty that, though there would be many battles ahead, he would overcome them all.

"Never forget." Ulquiorra warned. "I am the source of your power. There is much of me you have yet to comprehend, though you once knew all of it by heart. When the time comes to truly understand what I am, you will be forced to make an irrevocable choice. Until next time then, Ichigo."

"I won't forget."


"Shit. My head...

With bleary and aching eyes, Ichigo came back to the world of the living. The first thing he noticed was that his torse was heavily bound in bandages, which by their scent, must have been changed recently. His head was heavily propped up by several pillows. His two zanpakutou lay against the wall by the sink in sword form, unassuming, and apparently resting as well, judging by the lack of reaitsu emanating from them.

Stiff and sore, Ichigo shifted, and a small sigh answered him from the right. Ichigo really didn't have to, or want to, for that matter, glance at the bed's other occupant, but sadly, his curiosity got the better of him. The air rushed from his lungs as he hissed in in surprise. Yoruichi was curled up beside him, her head nuzzled into his chest, the sheets wrapped around her like a cocoon of silk. A sleepy smile adorned her perfect visage.

"Eh?" Ichigo blinked, Shinji's earlier declaration slowly trickling back into his memory. It had been just before he'd blacked out. Hacchi had been healing him, and whilst Yoruichi had been in the middle of a heated arguement with Kensei, Shinji had given him the news for a second time...

"She's on lockdown with ya for a reason, Ichigo. We can't have ya breakin' out like that again, so consider this...incentive."

"I-Incentive?" Ichigo had tried to play it off as ignorance, but Hirako had been far too clever for that.

"Don't play dumb with me, Ichigo. I've got eyes all over this town, and I've seen the looks you've been givin' Ms Shihoin over there. Not to say she hasn't eyed you up as well but that's beside the point. Plus there was that little video of the two of you gettin' all touchy feely on each other...

"I destroyed that!" Ichigo clamped a hand over his mouth, but it was already too late to take it back. "Oho?" If at all possible, Shinji's grin grew, as he fished out a small video cassette from his back pocket. Ichigo reached for it, but the vizard had already pulled away and out of reach.

"Would you by chance, mean this?"

"How did you-

"C'mon Ichigo, give me some credit. A good detective always makes a copy of his work."

"It's not your work! Wait-you were a detective?"

"When I was alive." Shinji replied proudly. "Oi, but this isn't my life story we're talkin' about here. It's yours Ichigo. So I'm just gonna hold onto this baby, on the off chance you should get any more ideas, kami forbid, about spurning our hospitality again, neh? Who knows, some people would pay alot for this footage, and it might even make you some new 'friends'..."

Ichigo blanched.

"You wouldn't."

Shinji smiled.

"Try me."

"Hirako...Ichigo balled both hands together as the flashback ended. "I swear, I am going to kill him...

"DAMNIT!" Ichigo snarled, eyes narrow and heated. He bolted upright in bed, unable to believe that he was still imprisoned here, even though Hirako and the other's knew that Rukia and the other's had gone off to get themselves killed! He had to help them! He had to...He had to...to...

"Ohayo, I-chi-go."

He stiffened as a hand caressed his face. He wanted to look, but he was paralyzed, such was her constant effect upon him. The arm wound its way around his neck, dragging him down. Before Ichigo could protest, a pair of warm, moist lips met his own, silencing whatever he had been about to say. Her body pressed flush against him, and suddenly, he rolled to the right, held down by a pair of strong arms. She shifted, stradling him now, and Ichigo burned scarlet red as her hair, no longer kept up in a ponytail, tickled his nose. In place of her regular attire, she wore only a pair of low, hip hugging black khaki's and an orange tank top with a v-neck plunge.

Unfortunately, her expression suggested that she wasn't pleased.

"Ah...Y-Yoruich-san...y-you're awake."

"Yes, I'm awake. And you're looking like you went and got the shit beat of you again." Yoruichi regarded him sternly from her rather compromising position, her grip on him tight and unyielding, her legs intertwined with is own. "Thanks to your little rampage with that arrancar last night, you nearly burnt down half of Karakura Town, Ichigo! Thankfully most of the buildings you destroyed were slated for demolition, but do you have any-

The words caught in Yoruichi's throat, and she bit her lip to suppress them. Abashed, Ichigo stared at her, unsure of how to respond to her sudden outburst. Exasperated, she leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips, before pulling away again, arms folded across her bosom.


"Kami, Ichigo. What am I going to do with you? I nearly broke my leg last night with that kick, and all you have to say is 'I'm sorry'?" Yoruichi raised a hand, cutting him off. "Oh, don't bother. I know you'll just race out again when someone's in danger, that's just the kind of man you are. "

"Well, if you don't know what to do with me, then could you start by not being pissed at me?" Ichigo suggested weakly.

"Cute." Yoruichi smirked, a glimmer of amusement dancing in the golden pools of her eyes. She leaned forward, her cheek brushing against Ichigo's for a moment, her forhead pressed against his own. "But don't think for a second that I'm letting you off the hook that easily, Ichigo."

"Why am I not surprised...

"Did you say something?"


"You're a horrible liar." Yoruichi whispered as she drew herself closer, crushing her mouth against Ichigo's with such force that the bed actually creaked beneath them. Her hands ran lightly across his back, and Ichigo hissed, both in pain and surprise, pain from his still fresh wounds, and surprise at...well, a great many things. He pulled her forward and she smiled around his mouth as his hands fist around the fringes of her shirt.

"Well...you're not a horrible kisser." Ichigo replied when they broke for air. Yoruichi smiled into the crook of the vizard's neck as she leaned into him, her lips brushing up against unbandaged skin, tracing across his collarbone in a series of rapid, but delicate kisses sending an electic tingle up Ichigo's bruised back that was not without some pleasure in addition to the pain.

"I'm also not horrible at something else."

Yoruichi's response was to lift her arms and allow Ichigo to help her out of the tank top. No sooner had her arms cleared the straps, then at once, she cast the discarded garment aside, a warm smile filling her face as Ichigo attempted to staunch a small nosebleed. Surprisingly, Yoruichi was in fact wearing a bra, but the black garment did not do her justice, the globes of her breasts bulged against the cofines of her brassiere and his chest as she pressed herself tightly against him. As such, Ichigo was having increasing difficulty averting his eyes from the goddess before him.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?" Yoruichi teased, nibbling on one finger, the other slowly winding its way through his hand, guiding it across her cleavage, all the while enjoying the look of open consternation her lover wore, as she knew all too well what kind of reaction she was provoking in him.

"Haven't you felt these before? What's the difference in seeing them for once?"

'This is different.' Ichigo thought to himself, not daring to voice his actual thoughts. Because, for all his strength and expertise in combat, the great and mighty vizard simply did not know how to unfasten a bra. He didn't want to tear it, that would undoubtedly raise questions amongst his fellow vizards, but at the same time, he was feeling like a complete and total idiot for being unable to remove it. Smiling, Yoruichi swatted Ichigo's fumbling hands away and reached for the clasp herself, her hungry lips meeting his for another brief moment while she unfastened the bra.

"Ah," And then she pulled away, unshouldering the frilly garment and tossing it aside as she leaned back on her haunches."Much better. It's been a while since I've let these girls breathe." Ichigo glanced down just as her glorious cleavage was exposed to the open air, his eyes widening as Yoruichi removed her hands, uncupping her breasts.

"Is this better, Ichigo?"

Scarce had Yoruichi shrugged it off, then she was against Ichigo once more, her arms encircling his neck, her bosom ripe against his chest as she locked lips with her student once more. His hands found her waist, and Yoruichi actually laughed as she was pulled into Ichigo's lap. That laughter soon faded into a soft moan of surprise as his hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans and gave a firm squeeze to what lay beneath.

"Oh, looks like you've gained some experience from Soi, hmmm, Ichigo?"

If Ichigo had been scarlet before, then now, he was positively crimson.

"So naive." Yoruichi sighed pleasantly, her hands reaching back to guide his own. "But, you know what they say. If you're going to do something, you might as well do it right." Before Ichigo could ask what Yoruichi had meant by this, she jerked his hands down. Inserted as they were into her jeans, which had been particularly tight to begin with, the khakis slid right off, and were kicked away seconds later, exposing Yoruichi's tan legs.

All that remained was a rather, surprisingly modest, black thong.

Ichigo made a sound then, whether it was one of protest or arousal, remained dubious. When their lips crashed together again, it was probably the latter. For the second time, Ichigo found himself on top of Yoruichi, wrestling with the Shihoin, as the two of them fought for dominance. Unlike their first wrestling match all those months before, this one lacked a sense of urgency, replaced with intimacy, as they rolled around in the sheets, caressing, touching, exploring every inch of one another. Often times with their lips, at times with their hands, but mostly, with their lips.

All at once, Yoruichi shuddered, and curled into Ichigo, one arm draped about his neck, the other gently fisting into his hair. She lay there for a moment, rejoicing in the feel of his bare skin against her own, his hands stroking at her back, brushing acrossher rear. His hands were surprisingly soft, for one who'd been in so many battles. She smiled at the thought, and nuzzled into his neck, which earned a surprised query from the vizard.

"Hey...you okay?"

"Mmm." She nodded, and the sound was almost a purr.


"You know," Yoruichi mused aloud, her eyes gleaming mischeviously as her arms swiftly circled around the vizard's hips. "You've been the one undressing me all this time. I don't think you're being very fair to me now, do you, Ichigo? In fact, you've gottten me all hot and bothered."

Ichigo would have fainted from blood loss right then and there, but for Yoruichi's lips binding him down to the present and to her. In fact, Ichigo was surprised that there hadn't been an interruption yet. The last two attempts had been interrupted, so naturally, he was expecting the third attempt to end in the same fashion. Guilt threatened to choke him off altogether. Guilt from screwing around while his friends were out there-

Suddenly, his jeans were gone.

Ichigo gawked, as he realized he was wearing only his lime green boxers.


Yoruichi grinned, and helded up the faded jeans, belt and all.

"They don't call the the Goddess of Flash for nothing, Ichigo."

With a flick of the wrist, his pants joined the pile of clothes scattered about the room. Yoruichi merely winked at Ichigo's disbelieving expression, before reaching for him once more. A short time later, two more items of clothing completed the haphazard pile. They embraced, gasped, and came together as one, and the rest dissolved into complete and total bliss. Yoruichi grinned as she laid her head against Ichigo's chest.

"Finally. I thought I'd never get you to myself."

Ichigo exhaled, softly, and reached for her as they fell back upon the mattress. He wasn't sure what else to say, and so he pulled the sheets up to cover the two of them. Even as he spoke, he was already allowing himself to finally nod off with the beautiful goddess in his arms.

"I guess it's a good thing Hacchi sealed the door after all...


(Three hours Later...)

"Pardon?" Hacchi blinked, for though he had heard the pair's request, it was taking some time for him to actually comprehend it. Before him the two twin girls known only as Ying and Yang stood, glaring up at him defiantly. Moments ago, they had demanded acess to Ichigo's quarters, the boldness of their request had not only dumbfounded Hacchigen, but also, left him rather perplexed. They hadn't so much as spoken to anyone other than Ichigo until now, so their sudden breach of silence had clearly come as a surprise when they'd approached him, of all people.

"We demand access to Master's room."

"Yes, yes, I understood you before, but he's erm, well, Ichigo-kun is...r-resting right now-

"We will rouse him then."

"Oh, no, no no. I-Ichigo-kun is still badly injured, you have to understand, I cannot let the two of you through on a whim-

"If words cannot sway you, then we will enter by force." Brusquely, the twin arrancar shouldered past Hacchigen, ignoring his protests. Cringing, the vizard could only cross his fingers and pray when they found that the door was locked. Winced, as they became frustrated and angrily shot the door down with a cero, blasting through the elaborate binding kido with relative ease. Both girls tilted their heads at what they found.


...is in bed with a woman?"

"A shinigami...

...it seems."

"Oh dear." Hacchi placed both hands over his ears as the two occupants of the bed began to stir.


A loud scream filled the hideout.

And that, was the end of my eigth day of captivity.