A/N: Major, major writer's block since the last update, I apologize again. I thank everyone for the support you've given me in the reviews in the past chapters, and hope you will enjoy this one.

Mature material ahead.

"Ah! What luck running into you, Kurosaki-kun."

What a night it proved to be for Ichigo, waken up by the door bell in the dead of the night, finding Rukia not beside him but instead at his door step in the company of three men that he never thought he would see standing together. Quite naturally, Ichigo extended an arm around Rukia's shoulders and pulled her to his side, where she explained sheepishly that these men claimed to be acquaintances of his and thus brought them here.

"Kurosaki-kun, I apologize for imposing upon you like so, but as you can see," Ukitake smiled good-naturedly and gave a sideways glance to the man supported on his shoulders, "we are in a bit of a predicament."

Almost embarrassed by Ukitake's charm, Ichigo heard himself give a startled "yes" and allowed them into through the door. Mentally kicking himself once he came to, he closed the door behind him and turned to Rukia.

"What happened?"

Hardly the question he wanted to ask.

"I went out for a walk, I couldn't sleep." Rukia looked like a child in trouble, her head hanging almost to her chest. "Should I have not brought them here?"

"I don't see anything could have stopped them."

"They seem to know who I am."

Seeing that he could not evade the question anymore, he looked away and sighed.

"You used to know who they are too. He's your brother."

Rukia figured that he was talking about the man who seemed so foreboding even when unconscious. She wanted to react to the news, but a glimpse at Ichigo's face in the shadows made her pause. His tightly set jaw was shaking with each careful flare of his nostrils, obviously trying hard to feign calm as he controlled each breath. With a hand placed on his chest, she could feel the crazed rhythm pass through the warm fabric of his shirt and infect her own heart.

She could have no way of knowing what he was afraid of, or even that he was excessively scared of something. With a startling clarity, like seeing what is to come the instant before falling off a bike, Ichigo thought that he could see a single loose string being pulled out of the life that he had so carefully woven, painstakingly slow. But he was too horrified to look away, afraid that that he would miss each grisly detail.

"Kurosaki-san!"

Both looked up when Urahara's voice, far too happy for the occasion, rang from the living room. Rukia's head turned too quickly to see Ichigo's eyes on her, his lips pressed into a thin line.

So there he was, watching her disappear through the threshold between the dark hallway and the brightly lit living room.

Inch.

By.

Inch.

When Rukia walked into the living room, she saw that the two men had already settled the unconscious one onto the tatami floor. With their hands held out above his body, she could see with a start that his wounds were slowly disappearing in the bluish aura that enveloped him. However, apparently that was nothing shocking compared to her appearance.

The silver haired man was the first to notice her.

"Unbelievable."

He muttered as his eyes combed her face blatantly, looking for any blemish that might expose her as an imitator. Though his stare was not malicious, and Rukia found herself giving him a sheepish smile as she knelt down across from the two men.

"Is there anything for me to do?"

Urahara looked up with a curious quirk of his lips.

"Do you know who he is?"

"My brother, Ichigo said."

"Do you think he is your brother?"

Rukia paused for a moment, and gave her head a few cautious shakes. Urahara sat back onto his heels and looked at her with a sigh.

Byakuya, it seems like you weren't given enough time after all.

"But he is."

Rukia looked at the man's sleeping face. He was a good-looking man, even much more so than Ichigo. Unfurled in the dark countries of sleep, the unguarded expression was utterly at odds with the sharp lines of his features, making her wonder if she was witnessing a rare sight. She was almost ashamed at her curiosity, wondering tentatively who this man was to her and what he had thought of her. Each progression of her thought felt like a betrayal to Ichigo, knowing how much he wanted to run forward and never look back.

"Nii-san."

Unable to resist, she tried on the words and every sentiment that came with it for size, her tongue stumbling over them. Urahara and Ukitake shared an amused glance, wondering what Byakuya would think upon hearing it. Ukitake could tell that, since Rukia's near execution, Byakuya had been trying to make up for the fifty odd years that had been lost between them. In his own clumsy way, Byakuya treaded the fine line between giving Rukia the affection that she deserved as his sister and nursing the old wound Hisana had left behind. However, the final battle had come sooner than anyone had expected, or rather, Byakuya's realization had come too late.

Time to restart this ridiculous game of chance and fate that we are all in, and hope for a better hand this time around.

Reset.

When Ichigo entered the room, he could feel his stomach wrenching into a knot at the sight of Rukia by Byakuya's side.

"Rukia."

He lamely called, as if just getting her attention would stop her from drifting further into her past, away from him. When she turned around at the sound of his voice, he met a vague glance that did not recognize him at all. Boyish jealousy had left no room for subtlety, so he snatched over Rukia's hand and pulled her over to the far side of the low table. Sitting down beside her, he gave a purposeful glance at their present company, mostly at the unconscious Byakuya, to make clear of where Rukia's rightful place was to be.

"There's no need for Captain Ukitake and I to be subjected to this. But when Captain Kuchiki comes to, you will have to be much more persuasive than this."

"Is Byakuya here for Rukia?" Ichigo shot at Urahara, his tone needlessly rigid to recover from his earlier display of rashness.

"That was what Captain Kuchiki had originally intended, but we were ambushed just before stepping through the Senkaimon." Ukitake interjected, but Ichigo made no notice of him, keeping his eyes on Urahara.

"How did he know where Rukia is?"

A dangerous air was now emanating from Ichigo, unaware of the hand that Rukia placed on his lap underneath the table. Urahara wondered how much worse things can look for him.

"I believe that Miss Kuchiki is in enough danger that you alone cannot protect her. There is also something bigger that's going on in the inner folds of Soul Society that I thought Captains Kuchiki and Ukitake needed to be aware of. Judging from the attack on them today, I think my decision was justified."

Urahara's grave tone lent some gravity to the situation, and found everyone in the room sinking into a silence. Rukia found it a strange scene, to have so many people that she had never met before go to such lengths for her safety. While being only a pawn, she had no idea of the purpose of the assignments that Gin had sent her to do, but hazily wondered if it were all connected somehow. If that in fact was the case, then they were the ones more in need of protection, seeing that she was the only unscathed piece on the chess board.

Dramatic irony at its best.

"I know we are eager to find out the truth behind all this," Urahara gave a sly emphasis on the word meant for Ichigo, "but we each have a piece to the story, and Captain Kuchiki's is rather important. So let's continue this tomorrow, when he has come to."

The sleeping arrangements proved to be an unexpected hassle as scouring for extra futons and pillows in a house of two was near impossible. The rare bustle made everyone forget that really this was a house of exiles, each due to some circumstances held in limbo here. But as the first faint light of dawn tinged the eastern sky, sleep began to envelop the house.

When Ichigo had finally finished cleaning up the havoc, he walked sheepishly into his bedroom with Rukia, feeling oddly ill at ease knowing that Byakuya, albeit unconscious, was just down the hall. To his surprise Rukia was nowhere to be found, but it occurred to him where she may be.

"Rukia."

Ichigo called to her back, which was settled beside Byakuya's sleeping figure, but nothing came out. His teenage self could never have realized the countless ways that her name could sound on his tongue. Ecstatically, sleepily, wearily, gruffly. Each form that her name took on his tongue was one form of her that he possessed, but what was there to call when she was slipping away from him?

Before Rukia could reply, he wrenched her by the shoulders to bring her face to face with him. His heart quivered when he saw a film of moisture over her eyes.

Ichigo's arm dropped.

"I should leave."

"What are you saying?" Even though he had a very good idea what she was talking about. But if he could stall her answer, stall the inevitable end.

"I should lea-"

Her words were cut short by Ichigo's mouth that sealed hers.

The familiarity of the situation suddenly reminded Ichigo that he had made such a last-ditch effort to make her stay once before.

It was a day or two before the final battle. He woke to the sight of a coldly brilliant moon above him. Taking some time to realize that it was night, he looked around to find himself in a temporary shelter built for the wounded, and Rukia by his bed side. She was busy with a wet cloth in her hand cleaning his wounds, the basin of water by her side was already an impenetrable red. Both of them were silent as she bandaged him, the only exchange between them was the heat from his body and the chill from her fingers when they made contact. She did the task with absolute concentration, her eyes as if capable of boring a hold through the cloth that unravelled round after round to cover the entirety of his torso.

When Rukia was finished, she helped him to sit up and fed him some water. As he drank, he studied her under the moonlight. Drops of sweat rolling down her cheek cut streaks of white through the blood and grime that covered them, then down the fragile curve of her neck. It reminded him of a hell butterfly that he saw earlier, its wings ripped to shreds by the edge of a blade in battle. Soundlessly, it was carried away by the wind.

Before settling the empty bowl down, she paused for a moment to stare at his chest that was rising and falling with each strained breath. Ichigo could feel his heart and breath quicken under her gaze, but tried hard to feign calm by breathing through clenched teeth. Who knows how long this went on, he only knew that when he was feeling faint from the lack of air, all reason left him and he lunged forward to catch her lips in his.

He ravaged her mouth, his inexperience and blood fever made him delve his tongue deep within the cavity of her mouth and entwining her tongue with his, tasting with a surprise the salt of the tear that she must have been shedding. Desperately clutching her to him, his lips and tongue moved at such force and speed that he never gave her a chance to reject him, afraid that she would push him away at the slightest pause.

But push him away she did, with a slap on the face too. For a moment all that filled the dead night air was the sound of their rough breaths, greedily devouring what had been denied to them. Dread was beginning to fill him, as he saw that Rukia was standing up and thought that she was going to leave. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed and brought him into her arms, his head safely cradled in her chest.

"I know you are afraid." Her voice came in a whisper, "I am too. There will be lives sacrificed, but it will not be yours. You are strong, you will live to go back to your family and friends. You will live to forget all of this."

Ichigo wanted to explain, that his only fear was her disappearing right there and then, but the darkness was beginning to ensnare his consciousness and pulling him away from her voice. Realizing with a start that she must have drugged him, he grabbed futilely at her warmth before sinking into the dark country.

Rising out of the memory again, Ichigo found himself back in his bedroom, and continuing the kiss with Rukia who was pressed beneath him on the floor. Nostrils flaring as air moved through them roughly, he covered the entirety of her body with his, its topography too much for his crazed mind to digest but enough to fuel his erection to painful proportions. Rukia was more than surprised, as Ichigo had normally been a silent man in bed, whose sighs and grunts were ample to convey to her the painful pleasure that they both embroiled in. Pushing her skirt up to her stomach and resting between her things, he ground his erection into her with a vengeance, satisfied with the quiver that caught her throat.

Sitting up for a moment, he first stripped of his cloth in a frenzy and then began to attack hers, his speed suggesting that he neither needed nor wanted her participation in the matter. His sole purpose tonight was to possess, for her to cry under his ministrations, to see that she was his. Body and soul. But for the time being he was satisfied with the former. Pressing her bent knees down to the floor to open her up to him, he nudged the head of his penis into her opening and moved to above, supporting his weight by his arms at her ears. Slowly but firmly, he sank his hips into hers and moved into her warmth. Her body arched into his and gave a long whimper, feeling dizzied by the sheer sensation of him stretching her, filling her.

"Tell me Rukia, how can I make you stay? How can I make you love me, love me so much that you will never leave me?"

Ichigo said as he peered into her eyes, forcing them to look into his. As he held her in mid-air with anticipation of his next move, he enjoyed the changing currents in her eyes, from the rapid currents of panic as he undressed her to the dark murky depth now as she wiggled uneasily, begging him to start moving. A roguish smile spread his lips as he slowly pulled his penis out completely, and suddenly thrust it back into her up to the hilt. Seemingly unfazed, he repeated the motions indefinitely to catalogue the full array of colours and shadows that appeared on her face, fulfilling his adolescent fantasy.

I'm all the way inside Kuchiki Rukia.

Tired of the delicious torture, her hand slid up his arms and squeezed the firmness underneath, wanting to tempt him to share her delirium. But Ichigo was not so easily distracted, as he reached down to push her thighs against her chest and laid his full weight onto her. This time, as he slid into her, she felt that his length must be inhuman, reaching an impossibly deep place within. When it went in deep enough, the world exploded.

It must have hurt how tightly her insides squeezed him, as her legs gathered around his neck and held on for dear life. Ichigo counted the number of times she called his name, fifteen, in order to stave off his own orgasm. They collapsed against each other for some time, unwilling to part even when the force of her climax subsided. Noting that with some satisfaction, he flipped onto his back so that Rukia could be resting on his chest.

Watching the shimmering dawn outside the window, Ichigo found he could breathe a little easier. When he was five years old, he had almost drowned in the sea where the family was vacationing. He was playing in the shallow waters with his father nearby, but a sudden wave plunged him into the depth of the sea and began to carry him further from the beach. Filled with fear, he tried to grab onto anything, but his fingertips only swept against his father's for a moment, not long enough for him to grab onto him. Despite the fact that his father managed to pull him out of the water moments later, the fear of that miss made him terrified of water for years after that. The cure only came when after his mother passed away and he had to take the twins to the pool, he managed to grab onto Yuzu's arm when her hand slipped on the float board and the current of people carried her to the deep end of the pool.

Redemption had finally come, for letting her slip out of his grasp fifteen years ago.

While he was deep in thought, Rukia had gotten up to sit on his hips, watching his face in the pale light of dawn. It had been easier for her to leave, hiding under the façade of self-sacrifice. But Ichigo was right that day in the bath, that it was much more difficult to walk down this road with him, alive and fighting.

"I won't let go this time."

She said, rousing Ichigo from his memories. Realizing what she had said, a smile bent his lips, earth shattering amidst the lights and shadows of twilight.

He was still hard inside her, so she began to move on top of him, carefully enveloping his length to feel every inch of it inside her. Ichigo made a move to get up and kiss her, but she pushed him back onto the floor, watching with some amusement his face flushing over as he remembered what he had done just moments ago.

Unhurried, she rose and fell, watching and feeling the pleasure within him mount. Feeling his hips jerking upwards in desperate attempts to get her to speed up, she laid a hand on his cheek to open his eyes and look at her. From her expression, he was to understand that the end was to come as a sweet inevitability, when everything ceased to exist except her warmth.

As he came, Rukia watched his chin jerk upwards and his features came into the first light of the day, beautiful in the world of a new day.