Hello everyone! We are finally here for the last chapter in this part of the fic. A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed and supported the author, ya'll were what made writing this fic fun. Read on and enjoy!
Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo
X
Jūshirō ducked underneath a swathe of fire that cut through the air with a wave of heat that dried the breath in his lungs and scorched his skin with all the force of the desert sun. Immediately, Jūshirō entered into a quick flash-step pushing himself harder and faster with reaitsu humming through his veins as he swung towards the Soutaicho. Ichigo's reaitsu presence burst into life beside him, bright and impossible to ignore, Jūshirō caught a flash of a grin out of the corner of his eyes, and already knew what Ichigo was planning.
His zanpaktou were clenched in his hands and the long blade caught the light of the sun above them in a strange manner as if it was consuming it. Jūshirō grinned and nodded, darting behind the Soutaicho as Shunsui fought with his katana, who wasn't quite allowed to use his Shikai abilities when they were sparring together due to the nature of it; it included enemies and allies alike. But once Shunsui had trained with the abilities in private and with the Soutaicho they would train together.
Jūshirō raised Sōgyo no Kotowari above his head and brought the left blade down above the Soutaicho's head. The old man whirled around at the last second, after forcing Shunsui back with a sweep of his elbow, and landed the hilt of his sword in Jūshirō's stomach forcing him into the rough bark of a tree. Jūshirō gasped out a harsh breath as he slammed into the tree and attempted to blink dark spots that danced and bounced out of his vision. Ichigo stood across from the Soutaicho, his reaitsu furrowed around him deep waves of black and he grinned, a terrifying grin, and called out, "Getsuga Tensho!"
Black reaitsu surged from his blade, sweeping through the clearing in an all-consuming wave, swathing everything in a blanket of darkness. It was heavy and Jūshirō instinctively tucked his reaitsu around him as he did whenever Ichigo showed even a fraction of his power. Pale fire sparked, like the first touches of dawn on the horizon, like liquid gold, and the wall was cut in half by a slice of fire that charred the ground and burnt the air. Jūshirō stumbled to his feet and coughed at the dry weight of the air pulling at his skin and irritating his eyes even as he couldn't take his gaze away from the display of power.
"They always get like this."
Shunsui complained with a pout and a flap of his hand as he leaned against a tree beside Jūshirō, he was panting, the sleeves of his shihakusho had long been burned off, sweat glistened on his brow and curled in his damp hair. Jūshirō stared unabashedly for a moment before he nodded and returned his attention to Ichigo and the Soutaicho.
It was true. They had both known that Ichigo was talented at Zanjutsu, that he could probably defeat their teachers in a spar with ease. But watching him fight the Soutaicho with his Shikai was a whole different story, it was less a spar and more a beautiful and devastating dance, one that always utterly destroyed the surrounding area.
Ichigo was powerful, it was a fact that thrummed through his very veins and filled the air in a tangible aura if he let it, it glowed in his eyes, filled his voice, echoed in his steps. But he was also kind, and quiet, and deep so, it was easy to miss. The Soutaicho carried the same commanding presence, the same well of power, but he burned with something old, inevitable, unchangeable, ineffable. And when they fought it was hard to tell who would win.
The thought alone was vaguely terrifying, that their partner was as strong as the Soutaicho. But at the same time, it was reassuring because Ichigo wasn't capable of evil, not in the slightest, and above all, he protected his family. They just needed to protect him.
Their battles were always a mix of fire and reaitsu that caved towards the skies in pillars of light, the Soutaicho was old and had been fighting for centuries, but Ichigo was fast, inventive, and had an overwhelming reserve of reaitsu. The rest of Soul Society was suitably confused by what was occurring.
Suffice to say, when they decided to fight each other seriously Jūshirō and Shunsui elected to make the wise decision to stay on the sidelines. Jūshirō already suspected that outside of their scheduled lessons with the Soutaicho, that Ichigo went out to spar with the old man, to test his skills in a way he couldn't against anyone else. The Soutaicho probably liked it just as much even if he complained about impudent brats.
Jūshirō coughed a tickle in his throat making itself known as he rubbed his fingers over his arms and attempted to catch his breath. Even amidst the heat filling the air it was easy to feel cold. Shunsui flashed Jūshirō a concerned look and stepped closer, his eyes sweeping over his body to search for visible injuries and his hands covered Jūshirō's so that he could feel the callouses on his palms.
"I'm fine Shu, well as fine as anyone can be in the midst of a battle between these two."
Jūshirō placated his partner adjusting his grasp on Sōgyo no Kotowari's hilts as he watched the two clashed against each other with a shriek and hiss of metal that sent sparks flying into the air and cracked the ground around them. Shunsui laughed, that deep laugh from deep inside his chest that never failed to put a smile on Jūshirō's features and nodded.
"Yeah, I can't imagine ever being that skilled with a zanpaktou."
"Well the Soutaicho has been training for ten centuries or so, and Ichigo is a prodigy so I think that's an unfair assessment."
Jūshirō replied patting Shunsui on the cheek with a small smile. Shunsui chuckled and leaned to place a kiss on his cheek with a dramatic sound that prompted Jūshirō to roll his eyes at his boyfriend's actions. Shunsui only laughed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest while holding his zanpaktou in his hands.
They were terrifying to watch, if only for how fast they moved. Jūshirō could only barely see anything and he knew it wasn't because he was powerful enough to see them, they were going purposefully slower so that they could see their fight, the Soutaicho probably hoped they would learn something from it.
Ichigo ducked under the Soutaicho's blade, he brought his smaller blade, the trench knife, up underneath the old man's guard only to be forced to swing back as the blade appeared in his other hand. Ichigo grinned and crossed his blades over his chest releasing a wave of reaitsu in the shape of an x that cut through the air only to catch against the Soutaicho's blade, forcing the old man back a step before he used flash-step and disappeared. He reappeared behind Ichigo, fire cocooning their friend and charring the grass in a circle around where Ichigo had once stood.
For a moment, worry lodged itself in his throat and churned in the pit of his stomach, it was illogical because he knew the Soutaicho would never intentionally hurt any of them permanently, bruises on the hand were fine, but he couldn't help but feel worried about Ichigo. Then the fire died away, for a moment Ichigo's skin glinted pale white, and Jūshirō wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or real. He wasn't sure what it meant if it was real.
He turned his head, his orange hair bright against the mass of charred black foliage behind him as he grinned at the two of them and called out, "Are you going to come help? Or do I have to fight the Soutaicho alone?"
"Oh, is it safe to do that now?"
Shunsui called back with a raised brow and a shit-eating grin that made Jūshirō roll his eyes. Ichigo tilted his head back and laughed, free in a way he couldn't be in the academy, in a classroom setting. Ichigo only lived when he was fighting or with them.
"Yeah, we'll keep the earth-shattering stuff to a minimum."
Ichigo replied and the Soutaicho stared at the three of them with a raised brow that perfectly conveyed how unimpressed he was, it didn't really hurt because Jūshirō could see the fondness beneath it. Shunsui uncrossed his arms with a gusty drooping sigh before he straightened and grinned at Jūshirō. He grinned back and together they disappeared in a burst of shunpo appearing on opposite sides of the Soutaicho with their blades raised.
The old man huffed and in one fluid motion, landed a kick to Shunsui's gut and caught Jūshirō's blade against his own. Jūshirō strained against the strength of the Soutaicho for a moment before he sensed Ichigo and sprung back and adjusted his grip on Sōgyo no Kotowari.
Ichigo caught the Soutaicho's blade and Shunsui appeared from behind only to have his blades crash against Ichigo's as the Soutaicho slipped from between the two. Shunsui and Ichigo turned as one to face the Soutaicho and while the old man was distracted Jūshirō channelled his reaitsu and moved behind the old man. The Soutaicho blocked an overhead strike from Shunsui and with a crackle of flames fire sprung up along his blade and he swung it in a wide circle around himself.
The fire blazed towards Jūshirō, hot and crackling, and he could feel it in his lungs even as he took a deep breath and raised his zanpaktou activating their Shikai ability to the joyful cheering of his spirits. The fire was absorbed into to the steel mirrors and Jūshirō could feel it trembling through his blades, threatening to overwhelm him, consume him if he wasn't cautious, as he added his own reaitsu and released the fire back at the Soutaicho.
The old man turned and caught the blaze on his own blade and there was something proud in his expression as the fire dispersed into the air. Shunsui and Ichigo took advantage of the distraction and struck at the same time working together in an attempt to get past the Soutaicho's defence.
Jūshirō swayed on his feet, the heat in the air felt like too much and yet his skin felt too cold, his throat itched, and his lungs burned and couldn't help the coughs that spilt from his lips as he sunk to his knees. A tremor swept itself through his body and Jūshirō had a moment of hazy realisation that he was having another attack, that his lungs apparently had disliked the dry air.
It felt as if it had appeared out of nowhere, without reason. But Jūshirō could trace his own mistakes, could see every moment as he coughed when he had dismissed the pain in his lungs for exhaustion, exertion, anything but what it was. It hadn't happened in training before.
In the background, Jūshirō noticed that the sounds of sparring had halted but his vision was tunnelling around him and all he could focus on were the wet coughs wracking his chest and pooling blood in his mouth. It hurt, burned through his chest, pounded in his head, was like bile in his throat, and each cough grated on his nerves and all he could smell was blood.
Warm, too warm, hands wrapped themselves around Jūshirō's shoulders, he could vaguely hear someone calling his name but above the rush of blood, it was inaudible, like hearing something from underwater. Two hands cradled his jaw as Jūshirō coughed and coughed, someone rubbed circles into his spine and he could hear a conversation, but he couldn't understand, could only taste the bitter tang of copper on his tongue.
A few minutes later the coughs subsided, Jūshirō's chest itched, he wanted to peel away the skin there, to escape his own lungs, but he could breathe again even if it rattled in his ribcage, and he took deep lung-heaving grasps of air and tried to ignore the taste of blood on his tongue. When he peered through his bangs it was into Shunsui's warm brown eyes, his hands cradled Jūshirō's jaw and concern furrowed his brow, pulled at his lips and shattered his expression, he could feel Ichigo behind him, his hands settled a weight on his shoulders grounding him to the moment, to them.
Shunsui passed him a piece of damp cloth and Jūshirō wiped away the blood he could feel, too warm on his cheeks and dripping down his chin as he leaned back against Ichigo, whose arms didn't hesitate to encircle his torso. They stared at him and he could see the Soutaicho watching the three of them with crossed arms that failed to hide the tense line of the man's shoulders and the way his large brows were furrowed.
"I'm okay."
Jūshirō tried to reassure his partners through the pain in his throat and the dull nausea sitting at the bottom of his stomach. He felt weak, but he always felt weak after an attack, like everything had been sucked out and left just a husk. He could tell they didn't quite believe him, Shunsui's lips did that little quirk that meant he totally knew Jūshirō was lying but was placating him regardless as he nodded, and his eyes crinkled with a touch of a smile.
The Soutaicho settled on the ground beside Shunsui with a huff of air, crossing his legs and staring at the three of them with a bemused air he said, "You all did well today, Shunsui watch your left side you often let your guard down, Ichigo stop showing off for Jūshirō and Shunsui, Jūshirō you did well but try to be aware of your own limitations. As a Shinigami, we do not have the option to turn away from battle, but it is important to be aware of our own limitations so that we do not cause greater harm. Impudent brats."
The Soutaicho finished with a scoff that couldn't quite hide the man's smile as he stared ahead with a blank expression. Jūshirō tilted his head up to stare at his partners, Ichigo was blushing his mouth opened and closed for a moment before he decided on pinning the Soutaicho with a glare. Shunsui was nodding, but his fingers threaded through Jūshirō's tightened and Jūshirō could almost hear his unsaid words.
The Soutaicho stared at the three of them for a long moment and Jūshirō wondered if he was going to tell them a story, history and a lesson all in one. Occasionally, during their lessons, they didn't spar, the Soutaicho would sit at his desk, or outside, or in the courtyard, and he'd talk about diplomacy or laws or paperwork. And sometimes he would talk about Soul Society's history.
He nodded once to himself and slowly rose to his feet, the Soutaicho's joints cracked and Jūshirō was forced to recall that the Soutaicho was old. He stared at his three students for a long moment before he bowed and said, "I will leave you three to your own devices for now. I will see you all tomorrow for the ceremony."
"Bye old man!"
Shunsui called out with a bright grin and a wave that couldn't hide the tense line of his shoulders as the Soutaicho disappeared from the clearing and the scent of fire and smoke drifted lazily through the air. Ichigo's fingers threaded gently through his hair and Jūshirō leaned his head back against Ichigo's chest and listened to his heartbeat. They were all sweaty and could probably at least do with a change of clothing, but it was okay for the moment.
"Can you believe we're graduating tomorrow?"
Shunsui questioned as he tilted forward and rested his head on Jūshirō's lap and stared up at him with those deep brown eyes. Jūshirō shook his head and heard the huff of Ichigo's laughter behind his chest and in his heart.
"Time always goes by so fast. One day we might all be captains and the next in a senior home."
Jūshirō replied trailing his fingers over the stubble lining Shunsui's jaw, over the curve of his cheeks, the slant of his nose. Shunsui hummed even as Ichigo shifted slightly and responded, "That's what makes like important. You have to cherish the time you have and live it to the fullest."
He tipped his head back and looked into the deep brown of Ichigo's eyes, they were the kind of eyes that were endless and old beyond their years and Jūshirō felt as if he could get lost quite easily. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Ichigo's cheek agreeing with his statement. Jūshirō knew his life was fragile, that everything was so incredibly fragile, but that was what made it good.
X
The ceremony was dry and dull, a procession of pomp and circumstance all accompanied by long-winded meandering speeches about the future of Soul Society and excellence. Shunsui seated beside Jūshirō shifted and pressed his fingers against Jūshirō's wrist while his other hand played with the fabric of his shihakusho. The current speaker was the administrator, whatever that meant, and had been speaking for the past twenty minutes. They were all growing impatient.
As lack of attention from the crowd, and perhaps the murderous aura from a few people, made itself apparent the administrator finished with a bow and joined the other seated guests on the almost stage at the front of the hallway. If Jūshirō searched he could see his Kido teacher seated beside their Hakuda teacher speaking quietly to each other.
Ichigo on the other side of Jūshirō shifted and muttered under his breath, he looked a minute away from leaving the room in the middle of it all. Jūshirō couldn't quite blame him. Instead, he settled his hand over Ichigo's and quirked a smile at his partner as he observed the unorganized chaos around them.
There was no assigned seating, students milled in whatever space was available, and a cool wind whipped through the room but did little to dispel the thick heat of the late summer. Jūshirō was glad they weren't forced to attend the reception afterwards. It was just an excuse to meet important people and put your name out there. They didn't really need to do that.
Even now, Jūshirō could feel eyes on the three of them, students, parents, Shinigami, everyone was curious about the trio of dual-blade zanpaktou. News always spread fast. It settled uncomfortably in his chest, the attention, the sudden weight and expectations. They had been regarded as prodigies of a sort before, but now they were the top of the academy. Shunsui, of course, enjoyed the attention, preened under the spotlight but Ichigo was like Jūshirō and he had the tendency to disappear without warning when faced with it.
The speaker, a teacher of some lesson or other, finished speaking and for a moment hushed murmurs, that weren't at all hushed, filled the room as the Soutaicho rose to his feet and stepped up to the podium. In the pale light of the sunlight filtering in through the windows, he looked like a statue, something untouchable.
"Good afternoon everyone, I would like to thank you all for attending our ceremony. This is the moment where a class of students become the future of Soul Society, become Shinigami who uphold the values of chivalry, honour, and respect. I have served this academy for many years, and I have seen many students pass through these halls, some have become captains, some lieutenants, and some are no longer with us. And now, I shall be retiring from these halls, it is time that I focus my attention on the Gotei 13, in my place will be the new headmaster, Yukimura."
The Soutaicho bowed and stepped away from the platform to a silence so thick Jūshirō could hear his own heartbeat. As the old man stepped away, he looked towards the three of them and nodded once as his replacement stepped forward.
"Yam-jii really did it huh?"
Shunsui commented with a shrug as he slung his arm over Jūshirō's shoulder. At the same moment, the silence burst in a single roar and conversation filled the air, it was loud and Jūshirō turned to Ichigo who was sitting straight and stiff, his body a tense line. Jūshirō pressed his shoulder against Ichigo's own and tried to convey that the speeches were almost over. Then it would just be the calling of the names and all the stuff that went with that. Then they would be Shinigami.
It felt strange, to think that once this ceremony was over, they would be Shinigami. They had been in school for what felt like a century and the end goal had always been visible but now it was right in front of him and Jūshirō couldn't quite believe it.
The new headmaster coughed once, and the crowd fell silent, Yukimura was an imposing woman with a halo of bright hair and a smile that could blind. Jūshirō wished the future students of the academy well. She began to speak, something to appease the parents or inform the Shinigami. Jūshirō tuned it out and studied the pale grain of the chair in front of him.
"I wish they would just finish already. I hate ceremonies, always too formal."
Ichigo complained quietly curving his fingers around Jūshirō's as he tilted his head slightly to stare up at the front of the hallway. Shunsui chuckled on the other side of Jūshirō and peered around his shoulders to see Ichigo as he added, "What do you expect, got to inflate their ego somehow."
"Shush both of you, it's almost over and then we can go and get piss drunk."
Jūshirō replied with a roll of his eyes as a teacher patrolled the hallway and flashed a vitriolic glare in their direction. Shunsui raised one brow and shook his head but it failed to hide his grin as he responded, "I'll drink to that."
Ichigo giggled under his breath and Jūshirō shook his head at his boyfriends as the new headmaster finished her speech to a smattering of applause. Tilting his head Jūshirō said, "Looks like we're up."
A teacher walked forward with a very long scroll in their arms and began to call out names. The first student entered the stage, bowed to the Soutaicho and the new headmaster and exited the stage, the next student did the same except she was seventh in their class overall. So, it went, so on and so forth and Jūshirō shifted uncomfortably and resisted the urge to yawn, Shunsui didn't even manage that.
Ichigo was the first to go up, he clambered over their feet and walked forward with his head held high, his hair was like a halo around his head and Jūshirō couldn't quite think for a moment as he stared at his partner. Ichigo paused to speak to the Soutaicho for a moment and then he was walking down the aisle and the next name was called. Shunsui went up next, grinned at the Soutaicho and slumped into his seat with a wink. Jūshirō rolled his eyes and when his name was called, he stepped forward, bowed to the new headmaster and stared into the Soutaicho's dark eyes.
Then it was over.
They piled outside of the hall, Jūshirō briefly glanced through the sea of faces for their parents but knew it wasn't likely they would find them. But that was what the family dinner was for the next week, even if Ichigo was still kicking up a fuss about it. They were still going to drag him to it.
Shunsui led the way, off to the familiar old willow tree squished out of the way of passing traffic, it's leaves shuffled and whispered in the sunlight as they piled beneath its shade. They sat together in silence for a long time, watching as the grass swayed in the breeze and the Shinigami and families left the academy in small clusters.
Ichigo laughed, a free, wild, sort of laugh that filled the air. It was bright, it was spontaneous, and it was irresistible, Jūshirō leaned forward and placed his hands on Ichigo's cheeks and pulled him into a kiss with a grin. Ichigo laughed against his lips and tangled his fingers in Jūshirō's hair before he pulled back and slumped in the grass. Shunsui's calloused hands turned Jūshirō's head with a pleading look and with a laugh he pressed kisses to his cheeks.
They were done. They were Shinigami. It didn't feel real, but it was true. It was scary, exhilarating, worrying, and exciting all at once and it swarmed through his chest like liquid sunshine, like a piece of pottery baking on the shore. Shunsui grinned placed a bottle of sake between them, Ichigo rolled over to stare at it with a lazy quirk of his lips that shouldn't have been so attractive and said, "Good thing there's no class tomorrow."
Jūshirō laughed and nodded with a wry smile, Shunsui grinned and opened the bottle taking a sip before passing it to Jūshirō. The sake was sharp on his tongue and Jūshirō hummed at the warmth in his chest as he passed it to Ichigo.
"You think we'll do good?"
Shunsui asked directing the question at Ichigo, who was the veritable prophet of their little group. Jūshirō leaned against Shunsui's side and stared at Ichigo, whose eyes were fixed on the sky above them through the leaves of the tree.
"I'm certain."
X
Thank you all for reading! This fic was so much fun to write, I loved exploring their relationship and this AU, a super huge thank you to everyone who commented/reviewed you all made writing this fun! I have no idea when the second part will be written so, for now, this is goodbye. Reviews/comments are always appreciated, thank you all!