Disclaimer: Kubo Tite is the imaginative bastard who has created Bleach. I can only admire his genius and cry in frustration that I do not own anything, not even Ichigo and Byakuya.

Warnings: This will include spoilers for the animated series (up to and including episode 366); also, there is some foul language and one non-graphic violent image.

Incalculable

or

Three lives Ichigo and Byakuya never had and one that they are currently living

The First Life

They are at Orihime's café, Byakuya an unwilling victim of countless taunts and even more annoying invitations. He finally caved after he barked his orders at his secretary who looked at him as if he had murdered some kittens in his sleep. That was the final drop. He let Kurosaki and Abarai take him at a small café, two blocks away from their precinct, knowing fully well that if he had stayed there another five minutes, he might have truly killed some kittens, and possibly some puppies too.

But human beings are annoying. Take for example Kurosaki and Abarai, the golden couple of the precinct, the detectives with the highest rate of solved cases. They come from completely different backgrounds, they tend to annoy each other and Byakuya at the same time, and yet they are the best there is. When Abarai is too impulsive, Kurosaki calms him down; when Kurosaki becomes too emotional and too damn involved in the cases he conducts, Abarai slaps him on the back of his head and reminds him he is only human. Both in their thirties, they do not have much of a family. He knows that Abarai dates his sister, but Byakuya chose a long time ago to pretend he does not know this little detail. Kurosaki is out and proud, which has made things a little difficult for him, but he never flaunts it and people respect him too much to tell him anything. Also the fact that he has a really mean right hook (out of the legends, apparently) keeps at bay any petty comment that might come his way.

Byakuya drinks slowly his black coffee, no milk, and definitely no sugar, while he slowly studies both his detectives. His. Yes, he has accepted this a long time ago. He will be forty soon and too damn tired to lose good cops, so he will take what he can get and these two knuckleheads are his best.

"Right, Byakuya?" Kurosaki asks, his chocolate eyes looking affectionately at him. His orange hair sticks in various directions, as if he has just woken up but Byakuya knows that this is mostly due to the fact that Ichigo is addicted to pass his fingers through his hair whenever he thinks too hard or is embarrassed. His unique orange hair. Another small detail that has not escaped Byakuya's observations - how that hair looks when it is wet, or when Ichigo tugs too much at it.

Yes, Ichigo Kurosaki is handsome to the point where he is wanted by both men and women. Byakuya is aware of this. Just as he is aware of the fact that he is nicknamed The Human Glacier. That has never deterred Kurosaki from acting like an annoying younger brother to him.

"I'm sorry; I don't listen to your ramblings."

"You seriously need a vacation, Byakuya." Ichigo rolls his eyes and stuffs his mouth with his food.

"Watch how you address your superiors, you insolent brat." Byakuya growls, making Ichigo grin cheekily at him.

"I'm so not a brat anymore. I am thirty-three, captain. I can hardly be called a brat anymore."

"As long as you act like a brat, I will treat you like one."

"Words hurt too, captain." Ichigo mocks him and then promptly goes back to his food.

"You should eat more, captain."

"I will, Abarai, when you catch that damn Aizen guy."

"We are doing our best, captain."

The rest of the meal progresses in silence, and Byakuya is tempted more than once to check what is happening at the precinct, but stops every time Ichigo looks at him with an all-knowing look. It is annoying but it has the desired effect. By the time they get out of the small café, the dusk filters its colors above the Karakura town and Byakuya is much calmer.

"KUCHIKI!"

There is just that yell, a pointless warning as his consciousness registers the loud and empty noise. He manages to catch a glimpse of his attacker and a Beretta, before an orange light blurs his vision and the force of the gun sends both he and Ichigo to the ground, drawing a pained gasp from the man in his arms. People scream around them, panicked voices drown in his consciousness, as he finally understands that Ichigo Kurosaki has stepped in front of a gun for him and most likely saved his life. There is another loud bang and this time he looks up just in time to see his attacker falling on the pavement, his brain splattered all over the place.

"Oh, shit, Ichigo!" Renji screams panicked and it sends Byakuya into action. As Abarai calls for the ambulance, Byakuya takes off his jacket and slowly but firmly presses it on Ichigo's chest. The young officer moans agonizingly and it sends jolts of genuine pain in Byakuya's heart.

"What were you thinking, you impudent brat?" Byakuya gruffly says, trying to hide his emotions but cracks appear in his dominant and indifferent persona that he has constructed for his work place. "You should have let them shoot me. I'm not worth-" He can't continue, something clogging his voice. Those beautiful brown eyes are glazed with utter pain and something more, perhaps regret or sadness and Byakuya's heart aches even more.

"Where is the goddamn ambulance?" Byakuya yells, because if he keeps looking into Ichigo's eyes, he may die a little too.

"It's on its way." Renji's voice is drowned with unshed tears. He kneels next to Ichigo on the other side, his hands shaking. One of them should deal with the body on the pavement, maybe ten feet away from them, but he does not have the heart to tell Abarai to leave. Ichigo is his best friend.

"Just hang on in there, buddy." Renji whispers wracked.

By the time the ambulance arrives, Ichigo has lost his consciousness twice and Byakuya thinks that sheer stubbornness keeps the man alive. They all go to the hospital, Byakuya leaving Toushirou Hitsugaya to handle the entire mess. He can't think straight right now, not when Kurosaki is in the hospital because he has taken a bullet for him – honor and duty be damned. Shortly after Ichigo is rushed into the surgery room, Isshin Kurosaki and his daughters are in the waiting room, looking pale and understanding. Byakuya explains what happened, even as his hands are still smeared with Ichigo's blood.

Ichigo's blood.

There is one moment when he thinks he might lose it so he rushes to a bathroom stall, closing the door behind him and puking everything he has eaten that day. Ichigo, not Kurosaki. Ichigo, the orange haired man that patronizes him, even when he knows Byakuya will just get more annoyed. Ichigo, who brings him hot coffee without even asking when he needs it; Ichigo, who lets him vent about honor and duty and pride with a slightly crooked smile. Ichigo, who has filled all those cracks in Byakuya's walls a long time ago. What about courage? What about will? Why didn't he have the courage to ask Ichigo to a cup of coffee and explain him how he has filled Byakuya's fantasies since they met? That he wants him in his life like probably no one ever will? Byakuya has always been so stubborn, always the living statue that his parents and his family have taught him to be.

Ichigo spends ten hours in the surgery room, his heart stops three times, the doctors are not sure if he is going to make it. Half of the precinct waits for news down town; the other half is in the waiting room, offering their support to Isshin and Ichigo's sisters. Rukia is the only one that pays him attention, but Byakuya does not say anything.

Ichigo is in a coma. Isshin advises him to go home, sleep and then go back to work. His eyes are heartbreaking, probably wondering why his beautiful wonderful son has decided to sacrifice himself for such a bastard like Byakuya. He promises he will call Byakuya with any news he might have.

Several days pass in a fury of activity. Byakuya finds out that Aizen ordered the attack and swears that he will have his head.

Two weeks later, just one day after Aizen is taken into police custody, Ichigo Kurosaki wakes up from coma. The first thing that Byakuya does when he sees him is kiss the day lights out of him. The semantics of how they are going to make this work is lost in Ichigo's taste on his lips.

The Second Life

"Where is he?" Byakuya asks as soon as he enters into the dark deserted room. He smells its skeleton of cement and steel caving into its own putrid ash and Byakuya knows they can't stay here for long.

"He's in the other room." His lieutenant speaks gruffly and Byakuya looks at his fiery servant.

"Did you manage to secure him well? No interruptions?"

"He was the only interruption, sir." Renji finally dares to look into his eyes, his red eyes staring strangely detached. "There is something different about him." He looks shaken as if the truths of the entire world had collapsed on his frail shoulders. However, Renji has never been an Atlas and he will never be. Shouldering the problems of the clan has fallen on Byakuya about a century and so ago. It gets a little harder every time to remember the small events that ignite impossible consequences into one's life.

"Different how?' He asks a little impatient, his voice a perfectly constructed cadence of indifference and freezing temperatures. For the first time, Renji winces and avoids Byakuya's boring gaze.

"I think it is better if you have a look in person, sir."

He only nods. He has wasted more than enough time in this building. Its moldy scent clings to his clothes like a vicious snake and Byakuya hates that his smell has become so sensitive with the passing of the time. As he makes his way towards the other room, his people nodding respectfully but staying silent, Byakuya muses over the passing of time, even when he is so old that time itself has forgotten about him.

There is a black door guarded by his sister and one of his older men. They avoid looking at him and again Byakuya has a distinct feeling that this is something eerie to put him on guard.

"He is in here, nii-sama." Rukia bows her head a little and Byakuya nods again before finally opening the door and stepping into a small room.

The moldy stench here is more powerful than anywhere else is in the building, murky stains of damp splashed on the walls by an invisible hand. No windows, just one exit, the one behind him. In the middle of the room, a chair.

The man on the chair finally raises his head and looks Byakuya straight into his eyes. He is dressed in a black t-shirt and some blue jeans, tainted with blood, its flagrance making Byakuya's stomach flip into recognition. His bright orange hair is in stark contrast with the dark material and it enhances the man's powerful aura. His jaw is set in a perfect tensed line, his eyes smoldering. Heavy silver chains are wrapped tightly around his upper body and feet, an insidious smell of burning meat floating through the already foul air. But nothing in that room covers the incredible smell of something absolutely wild, strawberries and musk and something impossibly unique. It makes him want to howl and get closer to the man, but it is impossible.

They are both enemies and these are precious moments.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya begins in his monotone voice, keeping it perfectly blank, "we meet again."

"Not by choice, you asshole." The orange haired man spits, his face twisting into a mask of pain. "What do you want?"

"Just as always, incredibly rude with your superiors."

"You are no superior of mine, you dick sucker." Ichigo scowls mockingly. "Wait a minute; this might actually be an insult I can't use with you."

"Behave, mutt."

"Or what?" Ichigo's eyes have lost their warm chocolate color, turning into a dangerous shade of gold. "Are you going to keep me and torture me for an eternity? Please, we aren't immortal like you."

The words sting, the regret making Byakuya taste bile. Ichigo is the perfect creation of natural selection and incredibly lucky genetics. He is an astounding piece of art, his flesh and blood a painful remainder of what Byakuya will never have, not because he does not want him, but because of what stands between the two of them.

"But your death would serve a purpose. And it can be painful too."

"Right, the Kuchikis' preferred weapon: torture." Ichigo spits close to Byakuya's polished shoes, his eyes alive with hatred. "Well, since it seems you have already started with these silvery chains and everything, how about you just continue and stop talking to me? I really don't have-"

"Why did you save my life?" Byakuya asks and his voice is so rough all of the sudden that Ichigo blinks in confusion. He looks pensively and then averts his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He mutters dissatisfied.

"Please, exempt me from your pathetic manner of denying it and get straight to the facts."

"Seriously, asshole, I don't know what you're talking about. I surely wouldn't save the life of an ancient vampire who can save his ass all by himself. Werewolf here, remember? Natural enemy and everything."

"Is it because of that night?" Byakuya ignores the young man's harsh words and says softer. Ichigo's cheeks and neck are flushed in a delicious color of red, making Byakuya lick his lips.

"Please, as if." Ichigo snorts but averts his eyes again. Byakuya's stomach flutters stronger and he finally takes a step inside the room. Ichigo's eyes widen in surprise but keeps avoiding Byakuya's gaze.

Nevertheless, the ancient vampire remembers that night so perfectly: Ichigo's strong arms around his neck, his perfect delicious lips on his, his impossible heat warming Byakuya's frozen insides that for a moment Byakuya thought that the legends are true and one kiss of a werewolf might solve all his problems. Ichigo Kurosaki, future Alpha of the Karakura pack, incredibly powerful, decent, and good. And Byakuya Kuchiki, the forth ruler of the Kuchiki clan, four hundred, seventy-three and six days old, wants nothing more than to have this werewolf.

He steps closer until he can kneel in front of the chair, and his cold fingers touch that unbelievable warmth again. His fingers dig in Ichigo's forearms painfully, making the young man trying step out of it and his fiery gaze is suddenly on Byakuya again.

"Tell me."

"You aren't my alpha. I won't tell you anything."

Byakuya gets closer and Ichigo's nostrils flare in panic, trying to avoid Byakuya's agonizing scent. He tries to retreat further in his chair, further away from the ancient vampire in front of him, but there is no escape. When Byakuya's lips mold themselves perfectly on Ichigo's lips, he expects to be bitten, and then probably torn to pieces. What he does not expect is Ichigo's defeated whine as he opens his lips just a tiny fracture, enough for Byakuya to push his tongue further into its warmth and lick greedily Ichigo's intoxicating mouth. If he lived a thousand lives from this moment on, Byakuya still doubts he would taste something more perfect, more incredible than this werewolf. It is as if his dead body finally responds to the warmth of this boy.

Byakuya loses his mind. He will plead temporary insanity later but now he simply does not care. He growls in frustration and breaks apart. Ichigo follows his mouth whining and Byakuya lets himself bask into that powerful sensation of being wanted for just a few seconds before breaking the chains in three swift moves.

Ichigo looks at him a little lost and Byakuya waits to be attacked. But apparently the werewolf has no such intentions. He gets up, his perfect skin in its tanned gorgeousness again, and jumps into Byakuya's arms his long legs around his cold body, his mouth viciously kissing him. Byakuya is intoxicated, he can't breathe anything else except Ichigo's enthralling scent.

Even when they stop kissing and Ichigo lets his forehead fall on Byakuya's shoulder, the vampire does not let go of the young man, keeping him in his arms, cradling him as if he is the most precious thing he has ever had. And Ichigo is the most precious thing.

"I couldn't let him kill you," the orange haired man whispers, his voice muffled by Byakuya's expensive jacket. The admission makes Byakuya's lips twitch into a fond smile. "I remember thinking that the logical thing to do would be to let you die, one less danger for my pack, but I couldn't."

"I apologize for bring you here like this and keeping you chained but I knew you wouldn't come otherwise." Byakuya gruffly responds. "I wish I could understand what is happening between us since that night. Unfortunately, the answer still eludes me. However, there is one thing I know for sure. I would obliterate the world, before I would let anything happen to you."

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know." Byakuya's arms tighten around the young man, kissing his head. "But we will figure out something."

They do not say that what they have is impossible, they do not say that probably once they get out of that room, all hell will break loose, because at least for the moment, in that small foul scented room, it is their heaven and that is enough.

The Third Life

The first time he sees the young man with bright orange hair, Byakuya Kuchiki is minding his own business reading in the park. He lives near by, in a very small house, which his parents bought for him as a graduating gift. Since then he has filled it with books, old music, and sheets of music that nobody sings to him. He has three failed relationships, an awkward understanding of social interaction, and he gives the concept of loneliness an utterly new meaning.

He works as an editor for a small publishing house, dealing mostly with fantasy novels, which he does not particularly like. He dreams of writing the great novel to change to course of literature. His kitchen is spotless, his bedroom an example of tidiness. Former lovers have given him names, called him cold, unable to relate with any human emotion, stuck up. He builds walls around his heart afterwards, impenetrable walls. They feel like a prison.

However, he likes the park. There is something particularly alive there, something screaming life at him, something that manages to escape his understanding. Sometimes when he has read enough, he sits quietly on a bench with a large view of the park. He admires families, children screaming or laughing, people passing by every day. Awkward glances are thrown his way every once in a while, as if people would dare to approach him if only he wouldn't look so sad or so stiff. Byakuya knows how they feel but he can't change himself. Those walls protect him. Not having them might mean destruction.

So seeing the orange haired man breaks his routine into thousands of tiny pieces, impossible to mend afterwards. It is almost amusing the way his heart flutters when he hears the laugh too.

He seems to be accompanied by friends. One of them keeps wailing unbecomingly telling the young man that he feels neglected. The bright young man just rolls his eyes, a crooked smile blossoming on his lips.

I want to kiss those lips.

Byakuya finds himself thinking and his hands tighten on the book that he still holds. Another shorter man says something and that is when the orange haired man laughs out loud, making the other one more obnoxious. The girls surrounding him laugh too and Byakuya has to keep telling himself not to move. The young man gives so much warmth, his friends wrapping him with so much love and care. One can see it in their eyes, the way they smile every time he says something, the way they tend to touch him constantly, pats on the shoulders, ruffling his hair, gentle touches on his forearms, even small shoves. They are on the ground, sharing sandwiches and salads, even gummy worms. They look happy. They look content and when they leave, Byakuya feels bereft.

He decides to come to the park more often. His boss is a gentle woman who does not care how he does his job or where as long as he does it properly. He decides to bring some of his manuscripts with him, this time choosing a closer place from the happy group, an old sycamore tree, crooked and yet slightly uncanny in its own way.. This is how three days later he finds out that the young man's name is Ichigo Kurosaki.

"You smell of dog puke," one of his friends looks reproachfully at him, pinching his nose. Clearly, it is not the first time this has happened. Byakuya checks Ichigo discretely. He looks marvelous to him.

"Well, Kon had a really bad day today." He sheepishly tugs his hair. "I showered three times but I guess I still stink."

They chat as they prepare to eat and Byakuya closes his eyes, leaning more on the tree under which he has settled. It is a very cliched day - the birds are singing and the wind is blowing softly through the trees. He should enjoy this day. This is what his sister keeps telling him. He loses track of the conversation occurring close to him.

"Excuse me." Byakuya blinks wide awake when the gentle voice is near him. He opens his eyes to see the warmest shade of brown looking back at him. From this close, Byakuya can tell that the young man is even more gorgeous than he had expected. "The wind blew these. I thought you might want them back." He is holding some of the notes he has done based on the new manuscript he has received.

"Yes." He answers awkwardly, adding as an after thought. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Byakuya takes the notes but Ichigo does not go away. Instead, he blushes a little as he keeps looking at Byakuya. "Do you mind telling me what they are?"

"Some notes for a new manuscript." Byakuya answers promptly. The warm brown eyes fill with wonder when Byakuya confesses he is an editor.

"That is so great." Ichigo sits own next to him. "I love reading. Anything I know that you might have edited?"

"I don't know. We are a small publishing house mostly dealing with fantasy novels." He tells some of the more famous names and surprisingly Ichigo recognizes some of them. Byakuya feels something tug at his walls. He built them so high and sturdy and yet something starts the corrosion process. "What do you do?" Byakuya asks politely.

"I am a vet.. I know," the young man smiles awkwardly, "not so fancy as your job, but I like it very much."

"My job isn't fancy and I consider your profession to be a very noble one." Byakuya replies immediately, and Ichigo smiles warmly at him.

"Thank you. I loved animals since I was a kid. Do you have any animals?"

"No, I don't. Honestly, I don't know if I would be able to offer them what they need."

Ichigo contradicts him and they start a whole discussion based on animal needs. Ichigo's friends leave them behind, smiling and shaking their heads, but Ichigo does not mind them, his attention fixed on Byakuya. To have those chocolate eyes focus on him is exhilarating. He can't help but feel hope, especially when Ichigo gives him his phone number while they settle to meet tomorrow in the park and have lunch together. Byakuya goes back to his small lonely house at dusk, orange light filtering thought the curtains. Hope fills his heart. He can't wait for tomorrow.

The next day, it rains and the walls are back in place.

He looks out morosely, the grey sky leaving him without any hope for a ray of sun. Ten minutes before his scheduled meeting with Ichigo, the phone rings.

"So, I definitely need your address because this damn rain isn't going to stop soon." Ichigo rumbles as soon as Byakuya answers his phone.

"My address?" Byakuya says softly, not entirely sure of what is going on.

"Yes, I mean, I promise you that I am not some psychotic killer, who is going to leave you bloodied on the floor."

"If you were one, would you tell me anyway?"

"No, I guess not." There is a small pause. "I promised you lunch, didn't I? If you're uncomfortable with telling me your address, you can always come to my place."

"It is all right. You can come to my place, as long as you bring the food. If you are going to kill me, at least you can do it on a full stomach."

"Agreed. Damn, I wish all my victims would be so amiable." Ichigo's teasing voice sends pleasurable shivers down his spine. He rattles the address and the young man promises to stop by in half an hour.

Byakuya barely has time to make his living room seem more alive when he hears the doorbell. His hands shake a bit when he goes and opens it to reveal a somewhat drenched Ichigo, smiling shyly at him. A delicious smell comes from the paper bags he holds in his hands. He is dressed in some blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a black hoodie on top. The hood covers half of his head, but it did not protect him much from the rain – his orange locks are plastered on his forehead. He looks like a drenched cat and Byakuya's walls crumble just at the sight of him.

"Hey. So I didn't know what you wanted so I brought a little bit of everything." Ichigo rambles as he enters in the house. The constant flow of words make Byakuya smile instead of annoying him and as he takes his guest in the kitchen, Byakuya makes a promise.

He knows that it is going to take a while but Ichigo Kurosaki will be his. He needs his warmth, his passion, his humanity. He will make Byakuya feel alive again.

The Fourth Life a.k.a The Real Life

The red moon casts a gloomy light, its crimson rays tainting everything. Byakuya Kuchiki watches it impassible, its power not affecting him. He has seen blood all his life, has shed some of his too, so its color and scent have long lost their power over him. His sword is one of the most vicious in Soul Society so the man who is lying motionless in a pool of his own blood does little to Byakuya's trained mind.

"How cruel of you…" Tsukishima's heavy words make Byakuya turn a little and look disdainfully at him. "Am I not… your benefactor…? Doesn't it pain your heart to do this?" Byakuya's grey eyes are impenetrable, perfect mask in his place. His arm hurts a little but this dull pain makes his body even more aware that somewhere close, there is Ichigo's spiritual energy.

Ichigo…

"You are indeed my benefactor." He finally answers, keeping his voice completely under control. "And I do appreciate it. However, you are Ichigo Kurosaki's enemy. I will not hesitate to kill that enemy. Regardless of whom they are."

Tsukishima does not say anything else and Byakuya leaves him behind as he has done with all his enemies before. He retrieves Rukia and lets Renji take care of her as he watches that dark cube up in the sky. Now Ichigo's reiatsu is so strong that Byakuya's heart flutters again. To say that he has not missed it would be the greatest lies that he has told himself. And he has always been good at that. He is confident that the young man will take the right decision. Just thinking about it makes Byakuya's heart flutter in an unflattering manner.

He feels young again with his first crush, an imposing professor at the Shinigami Academy. His hands are slightly shaking and he fists them carefully. The others must not figure out that something is wrong.

"You have to tell him, nii-sama." Rukia's voice rings in his mind. "If you don't tell him this time, you might lose him for good. You have already lost him once, do you want to make that mistake again?"

He does not, of course, he does not. Nevertheless, there were infinite possibilities as to how Ichigo would respond to his words, not to mention most of them included scenarios in which Ichigo threatens him with Zangetsu and screaming pervert at him. But he should at least give it a try. Ichigo's fire had burnt too much in his soul, it is too late to back off and rip those feelings from their root. They have settled comfortably in his heart and mind, deeply rooted in his respect for the young man and the debt that he has.

He will address this problem when Kurosaki Ichigo returns to Soul Society. There is one way in which his heart might be broken, but there are incalculable ones in which he might be rewarded.