Hey all! Haru here. I'm backkkkk. This chapter – is an emotional rollercoaster. While I'm a very hard person to make cry, I'll admit that writing this made my chest heavy.

***On another note, I'm sorry to say that I will be discontinuing the chapter title thingies so that I'll be able to give you guys updates as soon as possible. Thank you to anonymous, Ubermonkei, and Hollow Ichigo-Ichigo for your first reviews though!

Misfortune to Bear

Ichigo turned and faced the window. He hadn't slept the whole night, fitfully tossing and turning. His body was heavy and dark circles rimmed his eyes. He so desperately wanted sleep to come, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Grimmjow's body on the floor. He felt Grimmjow's blood on his hands and face. Ichigo shuddered.

He finally rose, untangling himself from the cocoon he had twisted around himself. The sun had begun to cast its first rays upon the earth but he found no comfort in it as he had before. Ichigo gingerly set his feet against the soft, rug-covered floor and stood. He dressed in a white, loose, silk tunic which had been placed across the trunk at the foot of his bed. Aizen seemed to enjoy seeing him in white and the servants picked his clothes accordingly. Ichigo sighed. It wasn't like he could choose for himself anyways.

The orange haired man quietly opened his door and peered down each side, attempting to locate any servants. Upon finding none, he stole along the hall, quickly making it to the medical wing after stopping briefly at the gardens. His steps were silent as he entered the wing, casting his worried brown eyes into different rooms until he saw a flash of blue. A grin of triumph lit his face before his expression sobered as he saw Grimmjow.

The normally active man lay unmoving on a bed, save for the steady up and down of his chest. His upper body was bare except for the bandages wound around his stomach. The stark white of the sheets and the bandages contrasted with the tan of Grimmjow's skin. He appeared fine but seeing Grimmjow so still struck something deep in Ichigo.

This was his fault.

He approached, hand shaking as he extended it towards the man. He didn't deserve to touch him but Ichigo couldn't help it. He'd missed Grimmjow. He had missed the other's smile, his boisterous laugh, his sharp, cyan eyes, his muscular body, and above all else, Ichigo missed the way Grimmjow treated him.

Ichigo had always loved freely. He'd given and had it taken away, but Grimmjow had given Ichigo love.

His eyes ached and pressure began to build behind them. His trembling hand finally caressed Grimmjow's cheek, the skin warm to the touch. When the other man didn't stir, Ichigo finally cupped his cheek, thumb stroking under Grimmjow's eye.

Ichigo didn't understand what Grimmjow saw in him. He was an outcast. He'd been shunned by the other villagers. He, the cursed one. Ichigo had no living family on this earth, all do to his existence.

His father, Shiba Isshin had fallen in love with Aphrodite, or Masaki as he had so lovingly called her. She had adored his loving, kind heart and he had cherished her happy, loving one. He had taken her lonely heart and filled it with a love so strong that she left her throne to be with him. She gave up her title as a goddess of Olympus and vowed her life and love to him. And he in turn abandoned his clan, his family to start his own. Their love grew and grew until a child was born. A child whom they both loved with all their hearts. And they lived very happily.

It was a love story that Ichigo had loved to hear at night, when he was tucked into bed, his mother and father sitting on either side of him. He hadn't realized that this particular tale, his favorite bedtime story, was of his parents until later, when he lost everything.

Tears filled his eyes and trickled down his cheeks, his mouth dry as he continued to stroke Grimmjow's cheek.

He father had died protecting him, and his mother had been forced back to Olympus and forbidden any human interaction as punishment for interfering with human life. Shiba Isshin had not been fated to die early and Ichigo should have never existed. He didn't have many memories of his mother besides the fact that she had loved him and his father very much. He did remember, however, the curse his mother had placed on him. He never knew why but he suspected it was part of her punishment. To watch her child suffer. That was why, despite finding that he could not speak the day after he'd lost both parents, he'd tried to live as happily as possible.

He'd gotten one sympathetic man, Zangetsu, who had seen the silent strength that burned in his eyes. The old man had helped him build a house far from the other villagers who dubbed him the "cursed child". Zangetsu had been his mentor and taught Ichigo everything he knew. Under his tutelage, Ichigo had learned to fight, to create weapons, to care for himself. But alas, he too had been struck with misfortune and passed away.

Still undeterred and determined to live happily, Ichigo had made a friend: Rukia.

Rukia had had no family and was an orphan like Ichigo. She'd been separated from her only sister when young and now lived as a worker in the orphanage once she'd grown out of the age to receive care.

She sympathized with Ichigo and wondered why the villagers shunned him so. She visited often and he in return taught her the ways of the forest. Rukia never questioned why he couldn't speak nor why he had no family. She accepted him for who he was and he put favor on her.

Rukia opened up her heart to him and he loved her as a sister. That's why, as a demigod, Ichigo had used his minimal powers to bestow upon her a blessing of love.

Then came Kaien. A young man, only a few years older than Rukia and Ichigo himself. He'd come into power of his clan as the previous head had abdicated and perished. Ichigo had known Kaien had to shoulder this burden as his own father had died. The two young men were cousins, but Kaien didn't know that. Though, Ichigo vowed to protect and care for Kaien regardless.

When not being groomed to be the next head of the Shiba clan, Kaien spent his time with Ichigo and Rukia. They adventured. They explored.

Ichigo loved both of them. The two friends he had. But, his love was cursed. He'd only wanted the best for his two friends. In the end, that mattered not.

-break-

He'd noticed the budding emotions between the two, and being a child of Aphrodite, could not turn away from their relationship. He'd seen the true, pure love between them and had wanted nothing more than to nurture it.

Though he couldn't speak, he'd encouraged them both, creating little opportunities for them. When enough time had passed, Ichigo had given Kaien the final push. He had known Rukia wouldn't take the final step; Kaien being a noble and all.

Ichigo had been there when Kaien had proposed. Rukia had looked to him in surprise. She'd exclaimed, hesitant, confused, but happy. She looked between him and Kaien when she finally asked,

"I thought that…you two…"

Grasping what she was trying to say, Ichigo shook his head, smiling broadly. He took both of their hands and brought them together so that Rukia's hand was in Kaien's. Kaien's enveloped Rukia's hand and Ichigo squeezed both of his over their joined ones, brown eyes warm and shining. Kaien spoke for him.

"Ichigo has been helping me prepare for this." Kaien took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, "I love you, Rukia, and while I also love Ichigo, he is akin to a brother. He's a dear friend who opened my eyes to my feelings for you."

Rukia's violet eyes filled with tears and she gasped. She punched Kaien, then Ichigo, though she never disrupted their hands.

"You guys should've told me earlier! I've been – nevermind." Rukia abruptly cut off her sentence with a blush and fully placed her gaze upon Kaien as Ichigo slowly removed his hands in favor of clasping them in front of him.

"Yes.Yes I'll marry you, Kaien, with all your stupidness and ridiculous height!"

Rukia launched herself at the taller man and they'd kissed – their first official kiss. Ichigo had stood to the side, heart bursting with happiness. They were happy. He was happy.

Then, Kaien had introduced Rukia to his family. Kukaku and Ganju had been overjoyed for their older brother, but the Shiba clan elders had not. They criticized Rukia as an orphan with no family, no name, and no money. However, Kaien stood firm.

From Ichigo, he had acquired a certain view on love. He would not give this up.

Ichigo, their friend had brought them together, and now that Kaien had grasped love, he wouldn't let go.

Ichigo, who had only ever lived in despair, had enforced the importance of love and never let his circumstances affect his capability to love.

So, Kaien persevered. He wanted to experience the love Ichigo had written about, lived by. Ichigo knew this. He knew Kaien's love was pure. He loved Rukia with all his heart. Ichigo also knew Rukia loved Kaien back, just as much.

Ichigo didn't know how that love, the result of his blessing which had brought them together, would be their undoing.

He'd been blinded by love. How ironic.

-break-

Wedding invitations had been sent far out of the Kingdom, to all the noble houses as was tradition, for the bonding of the orphan, Rukia, and the noble, Kaien Shiba.

Ichigo had never been happier.

Rukia was glowing and Kaien shining brightly. His best friends were going to be bonded together and their love would be forever, made unbreakable through the bond of marriage.

The wedding drew near and despite Rukia's happiness, Ichigo noticed her health had begun to wane. She was increasingly tired and had to rest for long bouts of time. Kaien, the ever-diligent man he was, had the best doctors in the village and the Kingdom observe her, but alas, no one could discern a proper illness. They deduced that it was a family disease and that there was nothing to be done.

Rukia smiled and bore it, unwilling to let what she called "fatigue" and "the sudden change in living arrangements" deter their wedding.

Finally, the day of the wedding was almost upon them. Rukia had decided to rest the night of with only Ichigo by her side. They spoke of many things – well, Ichigo listened intently and interjected his thoughts with motions, using ink and paper for what he could not mime. This was when Rukia truly laid her fears bare.

She was afraid of her illness – how it may affect her transition into the noble clan. How the elders despised her for her poor upbringing and now they were starting to question her health and ability to bear children.

Ichigo comforted her the best he could even though he too worried. He assured her as long as she stayed true and loving, doing the best for herself and Kaien, the Gods would most definitely aid her. This was when they were interrupted by a man.

A noble from the neighboring kingdom here to celebrate the marriage. He was a tall man with long, black hair and stern eyes. Though Ichigo thought he could see something of a glimmer in those dark eyes when the man's gaze lighted upon Rukia.

He first congratulated the bride-to-be and inquired after her health. He greeted Ichigo politely then requested a private audience with Rukia. Suspicious, Ichigo had gazed upon the stranger with wary eyes. Rukia had patted Ichigo's arm, assuring him that the dark-haired man probably just wanted to converse. She told Ichigo that she'd be alright and that she could hold her own if it came down to it. Quailing under Rukia's own fierce stubbornness, the demigod had nodded and motioned – equally as stubbornly – that he would get tea and that her conversation had better be finished by then. The woman had chuckled and pushed him away.

Ichigo left the room, but not before sparing another glance at the stranger. The man did not exude any ill will and seemed of trustworthy transposition. Ichigo decided the dark-haired man truthful but nevertheless, hastened to prepare tea to return to his friend.

Ichigo cautiously slid open the door, finding the man getting up gracefully. Ichigo's eyes turned towards Rukia who was silent, brow furrowed in contemplation. The strange man glanced at Ichigo once, slate gray eyes determined. The man nodded in greeting and made to leave, throwing one last comment over his shoulder as he paused in the doorway.

"I hope that you consider these thoughts. Thank you for your time."

He left, leaving Rukia with her expression conflicted. Ichigo had quickly set the tea down and kneeled to grasp both Rukia's hands in his, worried. Rukia broke from her thoughts and smiled slightly,

"I'm alright, Ichigo. He just wanted to talk about the wedding."

Ichigo had sensed she was hiding more, but nodded his head, squeezing once. She looked relieved.

"Thank you, Ichigo, for everything. Having you as a friend allowed me to see all the good – all the love in the world. You've been through so much: your parents have passed and you can't speak, and yet, you are still so happy. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Tears filled Rukia's eyes. Ichigo felt his chest ache.

"You made me realize love, and now, I understand. You are sacrifice and your sacrifice is love."

She wiggled her hand free, moving to pat Ichigo's head.

"You're too good for this world."

Ichigo looked at her in surprise, wetness clinging to his eyes. She understood. Even though he'd never told her of his past, she knew how much he'd suffered. Many tears were shed that night, though they weren't of sacrifice or suffering, but of love.

Before he fell asleep that night, facing his first friend on the futon, he registered the faint, delicate fragrance of sakura blossoms. Though it wasn't something he would remember until much later, Ichigo noted drowsily – at the time – that it was strange considering all the doors were closed and that it was not the season for such flowers. However, it was a small, insignificant thought in light of knowing how much Rukia cared for him.

That was why Ichigo was confused, even betrayed when he did not find his best friend beside him the next morning, but rather a single, folded note. Ichigo had sat dumbly for several hours until Kaien had burst in, ready to wake his intended and friend to ready themselves for the big day.

On finding Ichigo sitting quietly, gaze sad and removed, Kaien had immediately crouched by the futon, smile yet to completely leave his face. But, his voice betrayed his worry.

"Ichigo?"

Kaien inhaled sharply, smile all evaporated once the demigod's eyes turned upwards towards his. His breath left him and he couldn't draw in another upon seeing the heavy, heavy, pained look in the silent man's eyes.

"Where – where's Rukia?"

Ichigo let his tired brown eyes fall on the then, slightly crumpled paper in his hands. Kaien gently took the paper from Ichigo's numb fingers and into his trembling hands. Ichigo clenched his eyes shut, unwilling to see Kaien's turquoise eyes in anguish. But nothing prepared him for the heart wrenching sob that tore from Kaien's throat. It was a sound from deep in his heart, a sound of pure agony.

He allowed Kaien to sob, enveloping the suffering man in a tight hug while he looked to the heavens, tears glistening in his own eyes. This is the price he paid. His love was truly cursed.

-break-

My dearest friend Ichigo,

How I cannot even fathom trying to return what you gave to me. You gave me the ability to love without reason, without obstacles. Your friendship, your gentle guidance, your love is something that I truly did not deserve, but for which I am forever grateful. And because of all the love you gave me, all that you have sacrificed, I have come to a decision. I feel that my illness will overcome me. I do not want you or anybody else to suffer my declining health nor my death. Please understand that this was entirely my choice. I have left in order to give all my love to others before I pass. I seek to attempt to show others what Ichigo, you showed me. I can only hope that I can help others as you have done for me.

Thank you, Ichigo. I love you dearly and hold you close to my heart, forever and always.

The next words were shaky, as if she couldn't conjure the strength to keep her usually pristine handwriting.

My heart, my love, Kaien.

I love you, my dearest, and could not bear to see you watch me wither into nothing. I wish my image of me in your mind to be as I am now: strong, healthy, happy. I admit that it is a selfish desire, but I cannot let it be. Know that I love you more than physically possible on this plane, and that this love will never fade or waver for a second. It tears apart my heart to leave you, but my love for you overcomes my own need to be near you. Please, love, live and do not suffer for the past. I love you, so much.

Please, both of you, please continue to love and live for me, for others. I will not apologize for my actions now that I may do something for both of you. Live.

-Rukia

-break-

Kaien had fallen asleep in his grief and Ichigo had wordlessly handed the note to Kukaku after the woman had come to investigate why the three of them had yet to make an appearance. Ichigo stayed with his friend, the older's head in Ichigo's lap. The demigod let loose shuddering breaths and attempted to soothingly stroke Kaien's hair.

Kukaku, after scanning the contents of letter, had donned a grim, weary look and set about dealing with the guests and the wedding that would not occur. Ichigo had later looked among the disgruntled guests and found no sign of a tall noble with long, black hair and steely eyes.

Now, he was only left with the hole in his chest of losing a friend, a sister, a mentor, a mother, a father: everything. The villagers had blamed the wedding-that-wouldn't-be on his cursed existence and Ichigo once again fell into isolation in his house at the edge of the forest.

Kaien of course attempted to keep visiting, though his clan was now even more overbearing. The clan head was ever forgiving and loving, trying to crack through Ichigo's now closed shell. It hurt more this way. Ichigo would've preferred if Kaien also blamed him, hated him. Then he might have let his guilt overtake him. Let him repent for his sins.

Ichigo covered his mouth, retracting his hand from Grimmjow's face as his sobs wracked his body. His thin shoulders shook with the weight of his pain. Guilt, anguish, grief. They assaulted his emotions and ate at his mind. He'd vowed to live happily, to give love, to never let his misfortunes overtake him.

He'd allowed himself to be loved again, instead of loving. He opened his heart and without fail, he'd caused more misfortune. But, he could not help loving. It was in his blood, his soul. He'd been born out of love. He'd been gifted with the ability to love, to show others love, only to be cursed to bring tragedy upon all who loved him.

He wasn't allowed reprieve for his lonely heart. Perhaps his curse of muteness was his mother's way of warning him against others. All along he'd hoped that his muteness was his curse, when in fact it was a blessing.

He himself was the curse.

Ichigo should have never existed and the universe now wanted to rectify the mistake. If he weren't alive, then his parents would still be in love without worries. Kaien wouldn't have had to shoulder the responsibility of clan head. The villagers would be happy. Zangetsu would be alive. Rukia…Rukia would be living with the love of her life. Aizen wouldn't be a crazed, lonely, king, and Grimmjow.

Grimmjow would be in love with a person who'd be perfect. They'd speak and, and not bring him injury. Grimmjow would be home, happy, and without worries. He wouldn't be here, bandaged and asleep in an infirmary bed.

So, Ichigo decided.

He would not allow any person to love him. No one would suffer. He didn't mind being forever lonely if it meant he could keep others safe. For that to happen, he'd have to leave his previous life behind. He'd cut Grimmjow out of his life.

The demigod wiped his tears. He bent down over Grimmjow, placing a kiss on the noble's forehead in a blessing. He prayed. He pleaded, to his mother, to the Gods of Olympus. May this one blessing be true and bring Grimmjow some semblance of happiness.

I'm sorry, Grimmjow. May you find peace and love.

He tucked something behind the bluenette's ear and left the room with one last glance at the sleeping man.

Goodbye.

He slipped from the room, stubborn tears wetting his cheeks. He ran from his love, from Grimmjow, until he collapsed in the garden, in the solace of plants which always were silent guardians to him. Only the flowers were there to witness a demigod fall apart, sobs silent, shoulders quaking.

***X***

Grimmjow woke slowly, his mind foggy.

Where was he?

He tried to lift his head, only to wince as pain shot from his stomach. Gingerly, the man felt along his stomach to find a tightly wound bandage.

What was that?

Where was he?

What happened?

He clutched his head, hands digging into his vibrant, blue locks. His head throbbed and his hands clenched, fingers touching something behind his ear. Grimmjow plucked the object from his hair. What rested between in the palm of his hand was a flower. The shape overall was conical, purple star-shaped flowers adorning the stem. He could only vaguely recall that it was called hycna? Hya? Hycth?

Anyways, the flower was pretty but Grimmjow didn't understand why it was behind his ear. It struck him as something familiar as he twirled the stem between two fingers, however, he had never received flowers from anyone before.

He frowned as his headache worsened. The young lord rubbed his head. Why did seeing this flower make him feel so happy, yet so sad?

The sound of a door opening caught his attention.

"Oh! You're awake, Lord Jeagerjacques!"

The woman came closer to the bed, placing a pitcher and glass beside his bed. Grimmjow winced before asking,

"Where am I? What happened?"

The woman seemed to hesitate for a but before smiling weakly.

"You, um…where on a hunt, when a group of bandits attacked. You dealt with them, but unfortunately was injured in the process. The King personally requested you be brought here."

The woman shifted nervously, causing Grimmjow to raise a brow, both at her shifty movements and her near rehearsed speech. He decided to shake it off as news for now.

"Thank you then."

Another person entered the room. She was aged but held a keen look in her eyes once she approached the bed.

"Anya, I will take over the care of the young lord."

The younger woman nodded eagerly and after bowing to Grimmjow, fled the room in a flurry of skirts and nervousness. The blue haired man blinked before rubbing at his temples with one hand and twirling the flower with the other. The woman, who did not give her name, instructed Grimmjow to sit back so that she could change his bandages. Grimmjow, who was no stranger to pain, took the prodding in stride as he stared out the window.

A hunt…somehow, that didn't sound right. Why would he be in the palace? He was forgetting something – something important. He was startled from his thoughts when the woman spoke.

"'tis a pretty, but sad flower you hold, young lord."

Grimmjow looked up in surprise, clenching his hand around the plant in hand.

"…Sad flower?"

The woman nodded, carefully tugging on new bandages.

"Flowers have meanings and that one," She nodded her head at the flower he had yet to release from between his fingers, "has a very sorrowful one."

She closed her mouth afterwards, leaving Grimmjow in confused silence. Meaning? This flower, which brought forth a multitude of feelings he didn't understand, was given as a message? By whom?

As he mulled over this the woman finished and went to leave but before she left, she said,

"The King has requested that you become a palace swordsman. He will elaborate later. Please consider his offer."

The woman bowed and left. Palace swordsman? He was a man of the hunt! Wild, untamable. To be cooped up in the palace, teaching snooty guards the way of the sword was a preposterous thought. Besides, he'd never really spoken to the King. What spurred this sudden decision?

Grimmjow's head throbbed as he looked down at his hands and the flower. What was going on?

***X***

Aizen entered Ichigo's room only to find the bed empty. He frowned. It was still early morning – where could the demigod have gone? The king growled and left the room, questioning the nearest servant. The man looked nervous and shakily explained that he hadn't seen Ichigo. The servant scurried away as the King glared, brown eyes cold.

He swept from the hall. There was one place he could think of for Ichigo to be. As he reached the medic wing, an older woman who had worked in his castle for a long time – since he was a lad really – stepped from the room he'd been told Grimmjow had been place in. She bowed as his hand curled around the ornate door handle.

"If you are looking for the youth with hair the color of the sunset, he is not here."

Aizen inhaled sharply through his nose, carefully hiding his surprise as he turned towards the woman. He was surprised when her calm gaze met his – though he shouldn't have been. She'd always been bold; a presence that would scold him firmly, but gently. Perhaps that was why he hadn't fired her.

"That child is thoughtful. He's lived alone much of his life – where would you find him?"

The King looked at her in annoyance. She clearly knew where Ichigo would be but she refused to relinquish the information. The older woman stood patiently, face ever calm.

"He is alone in a new place. Familiarity, even the smallest bit, is reassuring, Your Highness."

Aizen betrayed no emotion outwardly, but his thoughts whirred. Ichigo lived on the edge of the woods – or so he'd been told. His brown eyes glinted.

The gardens.

His robes swished as he rushed away. Familiarity – plants, flowers…that's where Ichigo would be. Aizen stopped next to a tall archway with vines which wrapped around the structure, marking the entryway of the gardens. The servant there bowed and gestured towards a certain patch of flowers which Aizen didn't care to identify.

Hidden by the tall flowers and grass, lay the demigod, asleep. Looking down upon Ichigo, Aizen's breath was stolen. Ichigo was exquisitely beautiful. Sunset orange locks splayed about, pink lips parted in sleep, and long lashes that curled against a smooth cheek. Upon further inspection of the demigod's face however, revealed tracks down his cheeks. The corner of his eyes were red and slightly swollen, dark circles rimming eyes which Aizen knew would be bloodshot.

Aizen frowned, brushing his fingers along a warm, flushed cheek. Ichigo must've cried himself to exhaustion here. The King sat slowly, taking care to not jostle the sleeping form. He cared not for the flowers being crushed under his body; all his attention on the demigod.

He…he wanted Ichigo. He wanted Ichigo to love him, to gaze upon him with those warm, loving eyes of liquid cocoa. Aizen's normally cold eyes softened. He was lonely. Ichigo was lonely. Together, they could ease the pain. Aizen could withstand the so-called "curse" placed on Ichigo.

Though Grimmjow had altered his plan somewhat, Aizen knew that the young lord did not deserve Ichigo. Now, Grimmjow wasn't a problem. Ichigo had nothing to stop him from loving Aizen. As the child of Aphrodite, it would be easy. Aizen brushed hair gently from the eyes he knew contained love and sadness, unaware of the old woman that stood several paces away, observing the two.

***X***

Ichigo opened his eyes, feeling that they were hot and puffy. He squinted, seeing a tall stem before his eyes. In fact, he was surrounded by stems that gave way to beautiful, white flowers. He stiffened when he detected a presence sitting beside him. He discretely shifted his head to see the person.

Spiky, jet-black hair.

Ichigo's heart pounded.

Kaien!

Ichigo rose quickly and hugged the man in front of him. After a couple beats, after the other had yet to reciprocate, Ichigo moved back, confused. He looked up and found dull, gray eyes staring impassively back. As if shocked, Ichigo jolted back.

It wasn't Kaien – or least not his Kaien. Ichigo did not know the being currently inside his friend's body. His heart stuttered, hot pressure returning to his eyes. He'd forgotten all about Kaien and a reminder of all the misfortune he brought was devastating.

Ichigo closed his eyes and sat still. Not-Kaien sat, contemplating the actions of the youth, where bright hair now shadowed his face.

"His majesty was correct. He ordered that I sit beside you as you required some…'familiarity'. You seemed very pleased to see this man."

The man gestured to his own – Kaien's body. Ichigo looked up, chocolatey orbs desolate.

Kaien

The bright haired youth looked away, unable to look at was not Kaien. However, the other had other plans.

"I am to be your personal guard. Even if you protest, I will continue to guard you."

Ichigo turned his gaze upon the man with a mix of bewilderment and sadness. Was this punishment for messing up last night? Had Aizen decided that Ichigo's promise meant nothing and wanted to torture Ichigo by placing this fake Kaien as his guard?

The demigod chose not to acknowledge that last comment and took a deep breath There was no point in directing his anger on the being occupying Kaien's body – afterall, he was only following his orders.

Ichigo glanced at the man, who sat still, face emotionless. He was at a loss how he was supposed to go about doing anything with this man watching him. Ichigo tilted his head and sighed. He quickly glanced around for a stick, something he could write in the dirt with. As soon as his fingers wrapped around a thin branch that had been forgotten, Not-Kaien's voice startled him.

"I can read lips, if that helps."

Ichigo fully turned towards the man, giving the other a clear view of his face. He mouthed unsurely,

"What may I refer to you as? I would like name which I could call you." It felt odd to form words with his mouth when no sound came out. He hadn't "spoken" to anyone in such a long time.

The man stared for a moment, making Ichigo think perhaps the other wouldn't answer. Not-Kaien finally blinked, mouth opening.

"I…do not have a name, for I was never given one."

Sadness flooded through Ichigo. He had at least known his parents had loved him, had named and raised him until he'd been cursed. He was no stranger to misfortune and loneliess, but this man, the man Aizen had forced into Kaien, had no identity.

Ichigo didn't know this man's past – didn't know how he'd come to work under Aizen, didn't know why this man didn't have a name – but Ichigo couldn't help but feel for him. His heart ached. Everyone deserved a name.

Ichigo got the other's attention, mouthing slowly, hesitantly,

"Would you like one?"

Something flashed in not-Kaien's eyes briefly. The man then answered indifferently,

"If that is what you wish…Ichigo-sama."

He stared at this man, trying look past the exterior. This person may be in Kaien's body, and as much as it made his heart ache to see Kaien's familiar features he desired to help the other. Ichigo wanted this man, who hadn't even been given a name, man who only followed orders, a man who had nothing of his own, something he could have. Something that was purely his.

Ichigo stared intently, the other unmoving and expressionless though Ichigo's brown eyes were on him. Surely, a unique name would fit this man. Ichigo looked away, brain working hard. He idly picked up his previously forgotten stick and drew in the dirt.

Not-Kaien said nothing. In his idleness, Ichigo happened to spot some flowers off to the side. He rose, twig clutched in hand. The other followed, silent. The demigod crouched down, gently fingering the vibrant, green petals.

'Uloriaq'*, a flower known for its startlingly emerald hue and its resistance under any conditions. Its roots could be used to heal many superficial wounds, though not internal ones. Ichigo's eyes glanced at the man in Kaien's body, then back at some dirt. He trailed the twig in the soil and played around with the letters. He couldn't call him "Uloriaq" after all.

Several minutes passed this way, Ichigo slowly scratching away at the soft dirt and Not-Kaien watching impassively, until Ichigo finally came with a satisfactory name. He motioned the stoic man over, letting the near-emotionless man look over the name written in the dirt.

"Is this what you wish to call me?"

Ichigo shook his head. Carefully, slowly, reaching out his hand, his finger gently brushed the top of the other's.

"If only you yourself like it. One's name should be their own."

Not-Kaien's eyes flicked from where he'd been watching Ichigo's lips to the soil. His own lips twitched briefly before he nodded.

"Ulquiorra."

Ichigo smiled. It sounded right. It fit the other well.

"Ulquiorra then."

The demigod was interrupted in mouthing more when his stomach growled. His face grew hot and pink flushed his cheeks. He scowled down at the ground. Ulquiorra stood abruptly.

"Come, you must eat. Aizen-sama ordered that you dine regularly."

At the mention of the King's name, recent events, which Ichigo had been able to forget while interacting with Ulquiorra, reared its ugly head. Grimmjow's bandaged body invaded his mind. His breaths left in quick, short bursts and his hands started to shake. He pressed his trembling hands to his rapidly beating heart, unable to calm himself.

He'd resolved to let Grimmjow go, but it didn't stop him from seeing what he had caused. Ichigo, so lost was he that he hadn't noticed when Ulquiorra picked him up, effortlessly carrying the demigod in his arms. All he could see was Grimmjow lying in a pool of blood. The heavy, metallic smell of iron filled his nose. His heart thudded painfully. The last thing he registered was blood.

***X***

He didn't know where he was when he suddenly opened his eyes. He clenched his fingers and couldn't shake the feeling of something being off. That his body felt wrong. He tried to pull his arm towards him, only to hear chains clink, feeling cold metal encased around his wrists. He tugged harder, finding it impossible to release himself from his binds. He stopped abruptly when another stepped into his line of sight.

The man was tall, imposing, cold.

"You are now my soldier. You will do as I say and never disobey me. Your task must always be completed and should you waver, I will not hesitate to dispose of you. Understand?"

He nodded as he had nothing else he could do. He couldn't remember who he was, why he'd been brought here, nor where this might be. He had no identity. No reason to live. He had nothing.

This man was his master and there was no questioning that. This man had given him a purpose. And now that he had a reason for his life, he wouldn't fail to perform. He was a soldier.

-Break-

He'd faithfully learned the mannerisms and names that Aizen-sama had imposed upon him. He'd learned how to be "Kaien", the man whose body he was currently inhabiting. He'd been told that it was of the utmost importance that he be able to acquire a person with fire for hair named "Ichigo".

He trained hard and tried his best to be what Aizen-sama told him he should be. When the time came to get "Ichigo", he did as told and dutifully set out to obtain what his master so desired.

He however, wasn't sure what he'd expected when he finally was upon the youth. The man was fiery, fiercely protective. The younger man exuded an aura of power, of a certain otherworldliness that - though he couldn't remember anything – he felt was something familiar to his own. This young man had seen through all his training and saw him for who he was. The sunset haired youth bright and his power warm and strong.

Despite his curiosity, he couldn't dwell on such thoughts. His job was to acquire "Ichigo" and bring him back to Aizen-sama. He'd captured the other without incident, where others had failed. The King was overjoyed and allowed him free range of the palace.

He wasn't sure what to do now that the task he'd been specifically trained for was complete. He still trained daily, though it wasn't long before he began to again question his existence. What did he live for? Who was he? Why had "Ichigo" sparked something within him?

He was conflicted when Aizen-sama once again called upon him to become "Ichigo's" personal guard.

-Break-

The King was straightening to stand straight. He'd been summoned abruptly to the gardens, where he'd found the King staring intently at the sleeping youth.

"From now on, you are to be Ichigo's personal guard. Protect him at the cost of your own life. You have served me well thus far: do not fail me now."

Aizen-sama set gentle eyes upon Ichigo.

"Make sure he dines regularly and keep him company; he'll draw some sort of familiarity from 'Kaien'. Make sure no harm comes to him."

He'd nodded, determined to fulfill his calling once more. He'd been given another purpose.

He'd never thought that Ichigo would approach him; try to open his heart. There was something about the other man that was so lonely, so strong, so loving. He wanted to understand this bright youth who had eyes that had seen so much. He wanted to understand why he and Ichigo felt so…similar. So, he strove to become Ichigo's personal guard and companion.

He didn't know what to think when Ichigo gave him a name. He felt…he felt something in his chest, something like bubbles trying to escape him. He had to check the sudden urge to lift the corners of his mouth, to smile like Ichigo just had.

Ulquiorra, something he could call his own.

While Aizen-sama had given him a purpose, Ichigo had given him life, an identity. From that moment, he swore to become whatever Ichigo needed. To protect and aid the young man in any and all ways possible.

But, he was inexperienced. Despite his pledge, he hadn't been trained to be a companion, to comfort. Aizen-sama had claimed that familiarity would be enough and yet, Ichigo appeared as if nothing in the world would be able to cure him.

Ulquiorra looked upon the man sitting in the dirt, his breathing erratic. The younger made no indication that he'd registered Ulquiorra's words when he inquired what was wrong. Unable to communicate nor make sense of what was happening to Ichigo, Ulquiorra carefully collected the other into his hold. He made his way towards the medical wing, letting his eyes periodically wander to the orange haired man in his arms.

What had happened that Ichigo was behaving this way? Was it something he'd said? Ulquiorra had only stated the words Aizen-sama had imparted onto him. Perhaps Ichigo did not like being told when to dine? Or maybe the problem lied with his relationship with the King? Ulquiorra vowed to closely observe the interactions between the two so that he may better protect Ichigo.

For now, though, the medical wing was first. Whatever reaction Ichigo was having, Ulquiorra had to assure that the younger was in top health.

He hadn't known that his innocent actions to help Ichigo would only end in more pain.

How was it? This was nearly twice as long as I usually would update, but since I hadn't posted anything in so long, you guys deserved this. Thanks again for all your support!

~Haru