A low hiss, deep and hushed spread in the overwrought atmosphere of a large master bedroom. Two bodies were jostling against each other on a king-sized double bed; one above the other, dominating and pleasuring. The bed sheets were crumpled without care as limbs flail, desperate for a grip. Another hiss was choked out and the domineering form pause. More silence ensued.
"You're shaking," a voice finally said; his tone nonchalant.
The body below him stopped fidgeting. His arms which were at his sides tense somewhat as he muttered, "Don't bother. We don't have time."
The man on the top lowered his head, letting the chipped skin of his lips ghost along the length of a pale, quivering neck. Locating the jugular as easy as he could when given a blank chart of a human anatomy, he kissed and sucked.
The Ishida mansion was often cold, dark and lonely, obviously because the entire space was occupied by only one single person – Ishida Ryuuken, a doctor and also rightful director of Karakura Hospital. In the morning, he left the house for the hospital, slaving over numerous surgical tables and in the evening, over mounting paperwork on his table. Then at night, he returned, washed up and headed straight for the bed. The hall was seldom properly lit as the kitchen used. Ryuuken lived like a grand bachelor. That itself had hidden the fact that he was once married to a wonderful woman, and to his deepest regret, failed to have her by his side till their ripe old age. Their marriage, while short, had blessed them with a healthy, intelligent boy whom they name Uryuu. Ishida Uryuu… he carried his parents' hopes and love until one day, he began drawing arrows from his spiritual bow.
Ryuuken had never spoken of the other side of him to a single soul on earth – not a single one, save for Urahara Kisuke and Kurosaki Isshin. They were allies and he needed them for the sake of his son, but if God gave him a choice, he would rather sever ties with anybody associated with Soul Society or the other world, as he put it. He wanted freedom, a freedom to live his life as he see fit as a normal human. He was no shinigami who was blessed with a lifespan of a thousand years. His body was not invincible. As those pathetic shinigami had said it, Quincy were fragile. Ryuuken was fragile. With time, he would bend and wither into a brittle old man. He had only so short a time to live in this world. With so many limitations, why, why did he have to sacrifice so much for the sake of those who have already departed? What did he owe them to make him contribute anything more than his forefathers already had? He had seen enough, he had had enough. And he wanted the same for his son. The fool might be a complete ingrate and go against his orders by training in secret – as he had done so with his grandfather – but at present, he would do anything within his powers to keep Uryuu safe.
Ishida Ryuuken, heir to the title "The Last Quincy" wished that he would be as what the title bear, literally. He would bear the torment of being cursed with this spiritual ability and he would be the last of his tribe. The last who could summon a bow and slaughter Hollows. Then his son would be set free. Uryuu must never learn how to shoot like a Quincy.
But perhaps it was already coursing in his blood – perhaps Uryuu too was destined – no, condemned – to possess the power. And the accursed Urahara told him one day via a personal meeting that his son had lost the gift. Ryuuken was glad, relieved that his son was now liberated of the clan's idiotic pride. But nights after that, his son was attacked. Ryuuken had no choice but to use his powers to rescue the foolish boy. Then, as he shot those despicable Hollows down, he felt shredded inside. Would he rather see his son torn and skinned alive since he had no means to defend himself or have his son's corpse hailed as a fallen warrior in a battle against the Dead?
If without power Uryuu was this vulnerable, Ryuuken would rather equip him with some – and should he die, at least it would be much more meaningful. At least, that was what he believed. He promised his son that he would re-install his lost abilities and in the sorrowful park after their little reunion, Ryuuken walked back home with a dead weight hampering his heart.
One week after that in a specially constructed basement beneath the grounds of Karakura Hospital, Ryuuken fulfilled his part of the promise. His arrow pierced Uryuu's chest exactly 19 millimeter to the right of his heart and from that second onwards, he felt it – the steady, pulsating flow of a Quincy reiatsu. As he surveyed his son's unresponsive visage, his own chest ached.
There was another unspoken requirement besides suffering a spiritual arrow a little off the heart. Uryuu had not known – Ryuuken's expression was pained – but he would when he wake up. And he knew they both would be sorry.
"What exactly do you mean?" Uryuu had asked; horrorstruck at the revelation.
"The powers will only be permanent when you receive a 'graft' from another existing Quincy. The shot you received was nothing but a trigger – its effect would soon fade and disappear and before that happens, we have to make your body 'remember' its Quincy origin."
"Are we talking about blood transfusion of some sort? You mean I have to have a sample of your DNA?"
What good would the DNA of a father do to his blood-related son? It was the seed of a Quincy that Uryuu must obtain.
"Enough of this talk – just tell me what else I'm missing!"
Ryuuken turned to look at his son's anxious eyes and carefully, deliberately, he said, "I have to take you."
The moans that Ryuuken heard were silenced just as quickly as they erupted and the body beneath him was strained, as if he was forcing himself not to just jump out of the bed and run straight back home to his closet where he could hide and maybe throttle himself to death. Ryuuken's finger pads that were lined with imprints of sharp scalpels he use at work now caressed the fine hair behind an ear, causing the delicate form to shiver some more. The doctor ignored it and rained light kisses down the side of the cheek.
He had given the teen plenty of chances before this to back off. But he was insistent. And for that, Ryuuken would keep his second promise.
The night after Uryuu woke up from his post-power-returned deep slumber, Ryuuken brought him back home to the mansion which he had never step foot in for years. They headed for the bedroom – Ryuuken's – and stood at opposite corners. Uryuu's glasses were luminous as moon light reflect off it so his father could not read what was on the vacant face. But from what little sliver of him the doctor could see, it screamed of nervousness and fear.
"Go and take a long bath. You can use my robes on the cabinet."
And then, he left the chamber, descending the stairs to settle some of his work that he had brought home for the night.
Uryuu did take a long bath as his father had suggested. He soaked himself in the tub, willing his apprehension to melt away and dissolve in the warm water. He scrubbed his hair and body as thoroughly as he could; he did not know why, but his inner mind told him to wash himself clean before his father laid his hands on him, and when the sponge came down to in between his thighs, he hesitated. So he dwelled on his uneasiness some more for another five minutes but his reverie was suddenly interrupted by the creak of the bedroom's door. He heard a footstep before it too vanished – Ryuuken must have come to see if the other was done, but since Uryuu was not, he left. How long more could he delay? After thirty minutes, he did not think he felt any better and got out, wrapping his slender body in the bath robes his father had mentioned just now. If anything, he felt even more naked and worried than he was half an hour ago.
He sat agitatedly at a corner of the big bed, his fingers twiddling the sash that was securing his robes around his waist. When he thought he had calmed down, the door opened again and he found himself jumping to his feet. Ryuuken was still clad in his working suit and when he stood still by the door frame, Uryuu looked away and subconsciously, took a couple of steps back.
"Are you ready?"
Ryuuken had decided to keep any form of question and conversation brief and simple. He tried to keep his voice normal, not as harsh as when he was firing arrows after arrows at his son back in the basement. He would never be able to mutter sweet nothings in a rumbling, velvety voice as lovers do – and that gave both himself and Uryuu some reassurance that they were not committing this… act on a lecherous base.
It was a necessity, nothing more, nothing less.
Uryuu nodded once and perched on the bed. But Ryuuken motioned for him to go to the middle of it, not the edge. Quietly, the younger complied and he inched towards the headboard where stacks of pillows were laid.
Again, Uryuu wordlessly took them off and placed them neatly on the bedside counter. Then he felt the mattress dent as Ryuuken clambered on it. Uryuu's back pressed into the pillows.
"If you don't want this, we can still stop."
He was giving his son one last chance to turn his back against this bedroom, this house, everything; an escape route.
Uryuu stared defiantly into the blanket and shook his head. Then slowly, he replied, "I can't. This is the only way."
"Do you know what we're going to do? What I'm going to do?"
The boy nodded.
"Do you understand the severity of it? Did you consider if this will haunt you for life, traumatizing you? Is it worthwhile?"
Uryuu nodded again.
"Look at me."
Timidly, sapphire irises rose to eye level and observed how Ryuuken was slowly undoing the knot of his necktie. Letting the silky strip hang around his neck, he proceeded to unbuttoning his dress shirt, from the first one that was holding his collar together to those downwards, until his toned torso was bared. Uryuu's hands went cold and he gripped tighter at his sash.
Hours before he ended up here in his father's bed, Uryuu tried not to run simulations of what they would be doing. All he wanted back then was to be calm and able to face this with a morbid sense of bravery, but in the end, he spitefully wished he had. Maybe if he had prepared himself mentally, he would be able to cope with what visual sexual invitation his father would inevitably exhibit? But it was too late now, too late to guess what would happen within the next two minutes or so – now – and he just wanted to get it over with.
Ryuuken crept towards the teen. He loomed over his son, coaxing the other to recline on the pillows. Then, through his frameless glasses, he said, "One last chance. If we continue from here, it has to finish. No backing out."
Uryuu knew that. Was his father making this difficult for him deliberately? In his entire 16 years of living, he had encountered situations which he hated to be in, yet had to. He did not want to scorn his father for forbidding him from becoming a full-fledged Quincy, yet he did. He did not want his grandfather and mother to leave him, but they did. He did not want befriend shinigami, but he did.
He did not want to have sex with his own father, but he had to.
As fearless as he could, he snake his thin arms around Ryuuken's hip, gripping at the loose shirt and whispered, "I'm ready."
Skillful fingers trace the outline of a thin shoulder as they coax the cottony fabric of an azure bath robe off warm flesh. The large hand then massaged the upper arm – it was a little bit comforting especially when his body was running chill with trepidation. Uryuu thought Ryuuken would try to intertwine their fingers together, or maybe even pin his wrists to the bed so he let his vice grip on the bed sheet relax. But Ryuuken did no such thing – he keep his kneading on his son's arm firm yet gentle, but it was his mouth that was beginning to descend. Uryuu whose breath was coming in and out quickly between half-opened lips had half-heartedly expected the older man to kiss him fully. He dreaded that – he had purposely saved his first for his future girlfriend. Again, Ryuuken did not violate his mouth. No lingering warmth even at the edge of his pallid lids, no tongue clashing against his, nothing. But the touches were far from innocent and detached. Uryuu gritted his teeth as the doctor planted a dry kiss at the base of his neck, occasionally digging his tongue into the crook of his collarbone. The closeness of his father's face to his chest made his blood pump even more furiously in his ears and Uryuu gritted his teeth. The robe that was clothing his entire body was now partially unwrapped, the sash loosened from the struggling. Uryuu's chest was cast into Ryuuken's full view when the doctor peeled the fabric away.
And under the dim illumination, the pentagram scar that was apparent on the pale torso, directly over Uryuu's palpitating heart glowed gently. The puncture that was where Ryuuken's final arrow strike was no longer visible – somehow it must have healed in its own bizarre way – so all that was left was the tattoo-like motive. Ryuuken's fingers touched it leisurely and Uryuu's body jerked.
The doctor lifted his hand. "Painful?"
During that split second, the thought of "pain" never once sailed through his mind. It was for his pride's sake that he did not want his father touch anywhere close to his heart. He did not want Ryuuken to know how fast it was beating, supplying every inch of his body with adrenaline. He had repeatedly chanted in his mind: I have to do this, I have to do this! Though, who he was to kid? Even his own system was preparing him for a fight or flight.
Uryuu felt like he was about to be raped.
The fingers that were touching the scar now traveled over to the side of his breast. Goosebumps appeared wherever they had contact with his skin. Uryuu had groaned softly – he had a sick suspicion that some parts of his anatomy would be betraying him tonight. Why had Ryuuken decided to touch him this way, with so much consideration and respect?
A thumb flicked at an already erect nipple. Uryuu blushed heavily and bit his tongue should he retaliate in case Ryuuken insulted him for being shamelessly aroused when his own father was touching him, but the older man said nothing. He continued his rubbing and twiddling until the nipple went numb. Then it stopped. Uryuu looked down to his chest without really thinking about it – but it was just in time to see Ryuuken's mouth close over a bud.
Uryuu gasped – shocked, both at the intimacy and the warmth that was enveloping his nipple. A tongue swept over it and he trembled. Ryuuken removed himself and Uryuu purposely turned his head to the side, determined not to look at his father's face. He could not find the strength to do so, but why could Ryuuken? Why only he and not his father as well was flustering over this? Uryuu reminded himself again that they were doing this for the sake of his Quincy powers and nothing else. His father must be thinking along the same line so to him, it was merely carrying out a duty. Was that why he could do these things without so much as a resigned sigh?
Ryuuken's lips returned to his chest but now, it was clamped over the other nipple. Uryuu's trembling ceased – if his body could think, it should have already submitted itself to Ryuuken. His breathing had smoothened and he no longer had problems keeping his eye fixed on the ceiling, clear and alert. Even if soft sighs escaped his lips when the tongue toyed with the buds, he could still stay collected.
So far, so good.
Ryuuken must have noticed the sudden composure washing over his son's body. The thrashing about had lessened and the rhythmic fall and rise of the chest was stable. So he descended once more, laying kisses as he went, his warm fingers rubbing soothing circles where the abdominal muscles had flexed beneath his mouth. It was ticklish, but Uryuu could not find the vigour to laugh. Not a dry one, not even the silent chuckle kind that died quickly in the throat.
Ryuuken had come to the sash. His hand was on Uryuu's that was also on the fabric – the teen had been gripping it since his father climbed onto the bed – and was wordlessly asking permission for his son to let go. He squeezed at the rigid fist, his thumb drawing idle circles on the back of Uryuu's palm.
What other choice did he have?
Uryuu tentatively bring his hand to his side – both gripping on the bed sheet – and Ryuuken hooked a finger under the knot. With a quick pull and a "swoosh", the sash came off, baring every part of Uryuu to the doctor.
Ryuuken neither moved nor stared to increase the density of the atmosphere. He let his hands return to the teen's sides, caressing them absent-mindedly and occasionally dig into the rib cage that could be easily felt. Then they came to rest around his narrow hip. Ryuuken raised his hoary-haired head and said quietly, "This isn't going to make you comfortable. Close your eyes if you can't bear it."
That was almost like cowardice. Uryuu nodded, signifying he understood – but that did not mean he would obey. Ryuuken took his time. He dug his finger into Uryuu's navel before ironing the soft expanse of the pale area right above his crotch. Uryuu squirmed and he shifted his head to incline at an uncomfortable angle. He needed to be reminded that this was not supposed to be enjoyable.
Ryuuken's touches led him to believe otherwise, and Ryuuken was his father.
But all sense of morality and the fine line separating what was right from wrong blurred and merged when the doctor massaged his inner thigh. Uryuu could not think straight – he did not want to burden his mind some more when all it was doing was chanting religiously "I have to do this… I have to do this…" The hand was creeping closer and closer to his privates and once again, Uryuu found himself cracking. Panic threatened to revisit him and he stilled, waiting.
"Close your eyes," Ryuuken whispered.
Why does the body become so much more sensitive when it was anticipating a touch, even one as simple as a firm hold on the base of his penis? Uryuu's body jolted again when he felt warmth and he quickly took in rapid gulps of air. If he did not, he would automatically stop breathing. And if he did, and if Ryuuken kept on pumping his shaft, he would die out of self-suffocation if that was even physically possible. The fingers that were wrapped around the girth were active, and when it reached the tip, the thumb would slowly tease his foreskin. Uryuu was too confused to guard his reactions, so he let his subconscious take control as he concentrated on lying still and not kick his father away. He started moaning, softly, when the fingers massaged at the head. Every skin and bump and vein and curvature was touched and felt – his knees were raised unknowingly as pleasure started hitting him.
There was a shift, clothing rustled, and Uryuu saw the snowy top of Ryuuken's head before his chest. An arm was snaking under his back and the teen raise his torso, reflexively, allowing it to clasp tightly at his shoulder.
"Close your eyes," Ryuuken whispered again, noticing the wet sapphire eyes that were gleaming under the moon beam.
Then his head sunk and a shiver course down Uryuu's spine – Ryuuken had resumed licking at his right nipple. The hand that was servicing his penis was still agilely running up and down, unyielding, coaxing it into a rigid erection. Uryuu was confused verily – he did not understand why he could still react this way. Was it because he had accepted, and had prostrated himself before Ryuuken's aberrant touches that the hormones were reacting thus, lusting for more? He knew he could get off of this, with the handjob delivered deftly, his nipple sucked – but why did Ryuuken choose to do so? As he gasped when the telling dull, lewd sensation rippled in his crotch, he found another voice speaking amidst the chorusing "I must do this… I must do this" – why would Ryuuken serve him pleasure? What importance did it make to have him cum by his father's hand? Was it to humiliate him? Why could they not go straight to the main idea and be done with it? Uryuu closed his eyes finally, not wanting to be reminded of his father's hand and mouth. Another sensation was brewing in his guts – guilt and despise, but it only pushed his body further to its peak where Uryuu gave out broken moans, raw and deep as his back arched when he ejaculated into the air and onto his own torso. When he fell back onto the mattress, panting, he was very aware of his father's piercing glare. He closed his eyes again, letting the doctor watch him as much as he wanted. Now that they had come so far, there was just no point in being embarrassed.
"What's… what's the point of doing this?"
Ryuuken surveyed his son warily. He raised himself to a sitting position, a comfortable distance now wedged in between their bodies.
"Are you feeling better now?"
Uryuu exhaled shakily. What was that suppose to mean? Did Ryuuken intend the foreplay to calm him? Or was he trying to digress, averting their attention to a different subject? Uryuu did not reply and shifted against his pillows, feeling his sweaty back rub against the slightly damp pillowcase. Just when he wanted to close his legs, a hand prevented him from doing so. Quickly Uryuu turned to his father, both eyebrows raised questioningly.
"We aren't done."
The hand slid past his softening penis to trace the perimeter of his opening. The teen shivered profoundly and he instinctively pulled back, trying to break contact but Ryuuken had already held him steady by his waist. Uryuu knew, between two males, the only way to have sexual penetration was via anal sex. It sounded so degrading the first time he heard about it, to have one's pride crumbled to nothingness the moment he spread his leg for another man. Never had he imagined that tonight, he would be on the receiving end – and his father on the other.
The finger suddenly slipped past the tight ring and into the warm canal. Uryuu hissed, not expecting the sudden intrusion and pressed himself deeper into the pillows. The finger was pushed deep to the knuckle and it felt like his insides were smouldering. Ryuuken then took it out, only to rub and scissor at the opening, wheedling the muscles to soften for easier penetration. It had stung but it was nothing Uryuu could not handle. Still, being prodded and explored down there was still very daunting.
Then he heard something plastic was snapped, or uncapped, and something gooey was being squirted onto somewhere. Ryuuken did not explain and Uryuu did not bother to ask, but he did not have to in the end – the substance was brought against his anus and the teen flinched.
"Never mind," he gasped. "Just… just go on."
It was cold, a contrast to his still burning shaft. The cold finger, properly coated with lubrication entered him again and this time, the exploration was thorough. From the prior discomfort it had graduated to mild pain and Uryuu found it almost impossible to keep it quiet. His grunts of protests did not go unnoticed as Ryuuken slowed his pace, reducing the force.
Then, the finger too was gone.
Ryuuken edged away temporarily, his back onto his son and Uryuu brought his thighs closer. The slick feeling inside him was very noticeable especially when he clamped the muscle walls. He wondered how much of lubrication had Ryuuken used on him – and then the man turned back. He gestured for his son to return to the pillows as he parked himself neatly between the lean legs.
Uryuu thought he would be cowering in fright when the moment came but it did not turn out quite. He found a questionable sense of serenity rinsing his mind but his heart did begin beating faster when Ryuuken caught his legs.
"Whatever you may be feeling, just try to relax as much as you can."
Uryuu felt the blunt tip of Ryuuken's penis pointing towards his prepared hole. Now the panic hit him in full blow.
"I – no –"
His head swung back, hard, and it dug deep into the fluffy pillows as he was impaled. Half of the length was now deep within him and no matter how much Ryuuken had prepared his entrance, it did not feel enough.
His eyes were squeezed tight, his knuckles as white as the sheets below his body.
His walls were clamped around the intruding organ – they both know as much – so Ryuuken did not move, not wanting to force entry and tear the insides.
"You have to relax."
Ryuuken shifted slightly to lean forward so his face was closer to his son's, and the movement jarred their pelvic regions. Uryuu cried in pain, shortly, before he gnashed his teeth to silence himself. In the darkness he felt a hand cupping the side of his head, and he braved himself to open his eyes. He saw Ryuuken, very close to him, and the eyelids slid down again.
He heard his name. So what should he tell his father? That it hurt so badly he wanted to quit, that he would rather be feeble and useless than to bear a couple of minutes worth of pain? The humiliation would last for eternity afterwards, but if he had to live through it for the sake of earning the power to protect his friends and loved ones, he was willing. He had only himself to sought comfort for at the moment; he did not want to let himself down.
Ryuuken pushed deeper and Uryuu suddenly clenched at the older man's shoulders, pushing him, telling him to stop moving. And he did. Uryuu drank oxygen in like water. He realised if he did not let Ryuuken in anytime soon, this would be going on for a very long time. The older man however, decided to be more proactive over it. He leaned into the teen's neck, kissing at the spots that he had tasted sometime back. The collarbone, the jugular, the Adam's apple… if back then, Uryuu found it somewhat consoling since it had bought him some time for mental preparation, this time, he found it downright disgusting.
He pushed harder against the strong shoulders and Ryuuken fell back, slipping out of the slick opening. Uryuu recoiled into the mountain of pillows and crossed his arms over his eyes. Anguish sobbing and breathing racked the space, accompanied by a series of quiver throughout the slender frame. Ryuuken remained where he was and continued to watch his son for abnormal signs – anything peculiar.
Uryuu might have felt bad but would it match what Ryuuken was suffering? It probably would… but Ryuuken's guilt was unquestionably worse than Uryuu's. Why had he put his hands on his son? Why did he even suggest restoring those lost powers? He was the one who wanted it gone in the first place, so why second guess his wish and in the end, do something that was totally opposite of the aforementioned intention? Nothing of these made sense.
Ryuuken caught chopped up words uttered wistfully from the headboard… by his son. He heard "must do this… I must do this…" over and over again, and he genuinely wanted to throw a thick piece of freshly laundered comforter over the pale body and tell him, swear to him that he would never see his father again. Then he would continue watching over his son from afar, from behind the curtains, making sure that Uryuu would be all right for as long as he lived, and beyond. It was a duty of a father.
What he had done was something even animals do not think of. Could he ever find a piece of him that would forgive his deeds?
"Ryuuken…" the almost fading voice called precariously. The older man tensed, but he listened nevertheless. "Promise me one thing."
"Don't… don't hold me like you do Mom."
A severe pained expression was etched clearly on both their visages. Not only was the memory of the beloved woman in their life wounding, but also the meaning implied behind the single sentence. Uryuu was close to throwing himself out of the window, knowing that he was having his father embracing him on the bed that once was shared between his parents. And all the tender kisses and touches that were meant only for his mother were now showered gently on his body.
He could not forgive himself.
"Let it be solely physical. And if it had to hurt… let it be. Ignore my needs. Give me back my powers and we can go separately on our ways."
"I will only hurt you."
Uryuu lowered his arms. "We've hurt each other enough to last a lifetime. A little bit more isn't going to harm anyone."
Ryuuken's hand returned to his thigh. He spoke despairingly, "On your knees. Hold the headboard."
Uryuu did as told. Knowing where this would lead, he raised his hips. The thin fingers that were holding the headboard were white with tension again. Everything was awfully quiet for a moment; still… no movements like time had suddenly forgotten to include this sullied bedroom in its wake. Then he heard a lonely sigh.
Uryuu was going to say "Don't be", that it was his entire fault in the first place to begin with. If only he did not lose his powers, if only he was stronger so he would have to destroy the Sanrei glove – and Ryuuken thrust forward. Uryuu bit the insides of his cheek so hard he tasted copper and his shoulders collapsed. Strength was slowly seeping away from his arms but he forced them to stay strong, supporting his body as Ryuuken pick up the tempo. The pain was just as bad as before and this time, longer since the shoving continued without unnecessary pause. Exactly… this was how it should be. Merciless, clinical… no mundane emotions attached. But the prolonged pain was slowly taking a toll on his body and he began to slip in and out of consciousness. His arms had long given way and he let his upper body slip towards the pillows, the only means to keep him propped up. His legs were slowly liquefying that Ryuuken, sensing his son slipping away, had to hold him steadfastly by the waist.
A brief smile grew on Uryuu's lips when he felt his father's fingers dig painfully into his flesh as he drove his hip as deep in as possible – and a trickle of something warm and sticky cascaded down his inner thighs. Ryuuken drew himself out and lowered the worn out teen gingerly on the bed, rolling Uryuu to his back.
"It's done… "
It sounded so far away.
What had he done to his only son…?
"Are you all right?"
The question was dismissed when the foggy blue eyes close tiredly. Ryuuken shook his shoulders gently but Uryuu was already out. So he brushed the dark fringes away from the forehead, caressing the top of his son's head – almost like what he did twelve years back when he tuck him into his bed. But that innocent feel was no longer present. What would they have now that their kinship had been violated?
Ryuuken bowed his head a fraction to lay a single, chaste kiss on Uryuu's forehead. His son would awake to an aching body and a bloodied bed sheet in the morning but also possibly more powerful than he had ever been. If with that power he wished to aim an arrow through Ryuuken's skull, he would let it happen. He got up and shut the door behind him, trudging down the shadowy hallway without paying much attention to where he was heading to. Even if the staircase he was descending would lead him straight into the belly of Hell, he would continue to walk onwards.
Tonight, he had Sinned.