Bleach 1. Prologue: An Anguished Melody

Right this update it a bit late, the last one for July because I've been very busy this month. This is another **White x Black** setting my honeys, so **the facts from my other White x Black Vampire/Hunter AU's will have the same relevance here**. There's going to be some confusion, I know, about Ichigo's bow and Shiro's Zanpactō but that will **all **be explained in the next chapter or part 2. I'm still deciding if this will fall over into a multi-chapter fic or remain a two-shot/three-shot.

I don't have much to say, it's a **VERY dark** fic and it has several warnings so I'll place them here:

White x Black: Phantasia's Obscure Lullaby contains**: M/M Lemons, Angst, Dark Setting, Non-con in passing mention, trauma, Pureblood Vampire Reiou! Shiro, Pureblood Hunter Quincy! Ichigo, taboo themes, AU setting, Blood Play, Emotional Angst, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Shiro, Submissive Ichigo** and **a contrast in power** (meaning Shiro is a Shinigami and Ichigo a Quincy).

The Pairing is: **Shiba Shiro (**志波 白**) x Kurosaki Ichigo (**黒崎 一護**) **

I'll add more warnings if there's more since this is still a developing plot. This is only the introduction however, so please be patient until I can the rest of it finished. This story is quite complex to write and it will be dark throughout…if that's not your cup of tea then I don't want to hear it. You have been warned of what to expect.

For those who remain, I'll see you at the end of the chapter.

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**Prologue: An Anguished Melody **

_Scattered to the four corners of the wind, the depths of immortal darkness breaks across the black painted skies with uncontained anguish the instant that a soul is rent asunder by the forceful touch of tainted hands. Screaming within the whispers of lost innocence, there remains only the sinking claws of obscurity to console the darkness of the heart. Be wary of the flow of time, the carving hands of fate and the dark press of frightening reality because carved maliciously from within, flowing rivers of blood stain the ground with growing pools of deep carmine that run __**thick**__ with the eventide's everlasting suffering. __**Silence**__ your screams, __**hush**__ your tears, __**settle**__ your torment Child Of Light. Strength can only be found within and with it comes the unexpected and tender comfort that only the darkest depths of obscurity can provide. First one must plummet from the frightening heights of heaven to prevail __**proudly**__ beneath the blackest and darkest of nights. _

_Hush now, don't tremble in fear…the eternal King is about to breathe new life into your splintered existence and mend the fractured ground where you stand._

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A violent and strained curse was tumbling despairingly from cracked and bloodied lips, the sound echoing hauntingly into the distance of an eternal night where nothing but barren sand and black painted skies reached passed the bleak crescent moon horizon. Discolouring once luscious petal pink lips with rivulets of sickening carmine, the plush surface became a canvas for mournful red when a heaving cough forced bloodied spit and sick to spill harshly from resisting lungs and onto silvery sands below. Hueco Mundo was dyed red with countless fallen's lost lives that night, a large portion of Las Noches' white dome blown away by an uncontained explosion of pitch black reishi that had torn through this plane in an unstoppable path several minutes before. Vibrant and messy orange locks were a startling beacon in the darkness though, unkempt and dishevelled strands revealed one by one and spilling absently into fearful chocolate brown eyes that were valiantly struggling to focus on anything substantial as the bowing weight of large black wings folded protectively around an injured form. The haunting effects of a perfectly executed Vollständig (1*)was slowly dissipating into flecks of uncontrolled spirit particles, taking away the presence of inverted angelic wings and erasing the cascading torrent of pitch black locks that threaded thickly down a bowed spine to brush the backs of white clad thighs.

Kurosaki Ichigo was struggling to draw in a proper breath in those moments, a bloodstained glove tightening despairingly around the white nigiri (2*) of a large black two-hundred-and-thirty-three centimetre Japanese bow (3*) to hopefully ground himself against the physical pain and emotional upheaval that was taking over his soul with every second that passed. The world was already spinning in dizzying circles around him, a hazed vision barely aware of the large carmine pool that was forming steadily below him as he fell forward exhaustedly and rested a weary temple upon the cradling touch of soft sand. A once immaculate white Quincy uniform was in tatters around his lithe frame, viscous claw marks gouged into the flesh of trembling thighs, dragged deliberately down his back and sunk deeply into the skin of his abdomen as the last five days of hell he had spent captive to Hueco Mundo's False King_ finally_ came to a bitter and dark conclusion. He couldn't even find the strength to move anymore, the Hunter powers within him were frantically reaching out for the surrounding reishi to stem the bleeding and lessen the severity of his wounds. But it wasn't working very well. The dazed orangette was forced to curl protectively around himself in a desperate attempt to use the last of his fading consciousness to increase the density of his Blut Vene (4*) so that he didn't bleed out.

There was too much venom in his system, though; Ichigo _knew_. The deadly poison of several tainted vampire bites were wreaking havoc with the natural and immense flow of his powers as it became an unbearable burden just to keep his eyes open and force himself to take in one stuttering breath after the other _regardless_ of the pain pushing down on his chest. Fuck! He cursed internally. This wouldn't have been such a dire situation had his power not been forcibly suppressed and sealed away with a binding collar meant to render him docile for a single man's deranged will. In fact Ichigo knew that he had possessed enough strength to topple Aizen Sousuke from his throne the very first night that he had been dragged here. But his captor had known that too, so the bastard had cunningly implemented several countermeasures to prevent the orangette reaching for his Hunter power until a chance stroke of luck had left the young teen with an unexpected advantage several hours ago. Ichigo did_ not_ take well to being a political prisoner, especially not when he was to be used for such a devious method as to forcibly propel the Wandenreich's Quincy King into retaliating against the Reiōkyū's Reiou for the disappearance of Yhwach's most beloved and powerful Stern Ritter.

The orange haired eighteen-year-old was the Kaiser's(5*) Heir after all, his soul carried the pride of his Vater's (6*) epithet 'A' along with the weight of the entire Wandenreich that were ready to bow beneath his feet once the Kaiser deemed him ready to succeed his throne in the next two hundred years. The blood stained sheets and violent struggle that had taken place in his private quarters situated in the Silbern Fortress five days ago however, was sure to have toppled the balance of the shaky Quincy/Shinigami alliance that had been forged a month ago to take down the very man that had captured him in the first place. The Emperor hated the fallen kin of the Shinigami more than the Shinigami themselves but when Ichigo was so cleverly stolen away from the Schatten Bereich that _only_ the Shinigami knew the location of because they had been _told_ so as part of the treaty agreement, it was quite logical to assume that it had been Seireitei who had carried out the underhanded attack rather than the mutual enemy that they were planning to overpower. It was an absolutely brilliant strategy, the sound logic was sure to have caused the two most powerful beings on both sides of a Thousand Year Blood War to take each other out so that Hueco Mundo's False King could take over the Reiou's throne for himself and get rid of the Hunters that were constantly threatening the safety of his falsified kingdom.

There was only _one_ thing that Aizen had forgotten to implement in his plans. 'A' was not about to stand by helpless as he became the catalyst of a full on war that would rent asunder the world beneath his feet. He had been a minor up until twelve hours ago and the biggest secret that the orangette carried within him, was that the Emperor had used several intricate 'soul' seals to bind back more than half of his beloved son's true Quincy power so that the orangette's still maturing soul was not overpowered and forced to collapse in on itself. Yhwach had told Ichigo clearly that his_ true_ power was set to release in several powerful stages over the next two years when he turned eighteen and nineteen. It was disgusting to think that he had been so completely paralyzed by a drug, reiatsu sealing collars and wounded just to increase the severity of the crime as his Vater slept down the hall in the Throne Room and Haschwalth had been called away to settle a disturbance in the Human World. _So weak_, he berated himself harshly. Ichigo had been so vulnerable in those moments that he had felt like nothing more than a four-year-old child that could do nothing against the flow of events. And that weakness and helplessness had not faded once for the five days of hell where he had been tortured and used as a toy to please Aizen's more powerful and 'tamed' Arrancar.

This was the first time that Ichigo had found the correct balance of reishi within him and the atmosphere around him to execute a fully formed Vollständig, the devastation of which he knew was _nothing_ compared to what it could eventually be. But that didn't matter, he thought to himself mournfully. It did not erase the pain of his wounds and the vile sensation of blood, dirt and other body fluids he'd rather not think about that was clinging sickeningly to his skin and the fractures that had been torn into his soul unbidden of his permission. A single sorrowful tear was falling mournfully from the corner of black lashes to disappear uselessly into silvery sand below, the helpless feeling of tainted fangs having slid through his flesh over and over again as he had been fed from until close to death was considerably worse than the humiliation of it all because Ichigo _knew_ if his Vater did not initiate the Purifying Procedure within the next few hours, he'd die in this godforsaken darkness. His Quincy inheritance could not defend against the tainted venom in his blood, not at the quantity and volume that he had been exposed to it over a long period of time. Before his consciousness could be swept away though, and in the last moments of his desperately struggling sanity, Ichigo tried his best to gather enough strength to tug on the transcendent link that bound him to his Kaiser's soul.

It was a faint cry for help, the only that he could barely manage. But the distance that separated the Quincy Emperor and his Heir was vast, an entire dimension that was not easily crossed when Yhwach himself was not asleep and could trace Ichigo's location now that the bonds sealing his power had been shattered. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe as the seconds passed, heavy eyelids fluttering shut under the strain of his fading consciousness as the uncommonly sweet scent of Pureblood Hunter blood began to attract the less powerful and more instinctual Hollows that dwelled in Hueco Mundo's deserts too. The grip that he had around his bow was fleeting, the orange haired Quincy's control of solidified reishi particles dissolving into nothing so that a silver five pointed cross fell uselessly against the sand and a bloodstained palm grasped desperately at fine grains in search of his lost strength. There was nothing there to hold onto anymore sadly, he was utterly exhausted and now that he couldn't lift a single finger to protect himself…the howls and cries of the Hollow scenting new prey was more frightening than he'd like to admit. Messy orange locks were sticking wetly to the red that was staining his cheek, rivulets of blood discolouring the strands as he incorporated an immense amount of effort to push himself onto his elbows and a strained sob spilled despairingly from parted lips.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think but his vision was clearing a bit as he heard the distinctive sound of quiet footsteps shifting gracefully through the sand. There was the undeniable presence of an indiscernible but powerful reiatsu brushing curiously against his form, seeming to feel out the level of his hurt before dazed eyes blinked up dazedly at the shadow that fell over him from above. Expecting to come face to face with the last moments of his life, the orange haired Hunter was surprised when he saw an ethereal figure bowing protectively over him as long shimmering white locks spilled hauntingly around a tall frame and tumbled playfully over strong shoulders to tickle bloodstained cheeks. Intense golden eyes were gazing down at him from within a sea of black sclera, elegant black nailed fingertips curled loosely around the elongated hilt of a large black Zanpactō that was draped nonchalantly over a left shoulder as a flowing robe of black silk and a several metre long gold and white haori was tugged restlessly by the wind. A thick golden sash was keeping the haori bound shut as a smaller but just as menacing companion to the large black daitō was suspended from two dancing white tassels. It remained undrawn however, a quite 'che' spilling from pale lips as the white haired being sheathed his sword in a swathe of gold silk before draping it across his back from a segmented sash.

'If I had _known_ that the Old Man kept a powerful soul like this under his command, Aizen could have been dealt with a very long time ago.' Struggling to find his voice when the being that was obviously a Shinigami seated himself regally in the sand next to him, Ichigo cried out in alarm and considerable fear when he was gently guided to rest the back of his head in a warm lap and tender fingertips brushed through blood matted orange locks to ease his panic. 'Such a devastating sight you make, Quincy. There's so much blood that I find myself drawn to the arousing image of blissful eroticism you make, little one. Your pain must be absolutely _unbearable_.' Chocking on a violent and uncontained response, the fiery orange haired Hunter was finding great difficulty in even insulting this being when he could barely breathe. But something was calming down within him, the pain that had wracked through his system easing slowly as he was gifted a sly smirk and black nailed fingertips reached down to capture the carving path of another disgraceful tear that caressed a bloodied cheek. Despite the frightening peek of needle sharp fangs that caressed a full bottom lip, Ichigo found himself shuddering in trepidation when the first brushes of a heavy and overwhelmingly powerful enthralment crept over the depths of his soul.

'S-stop it…s-stop i-it! W-who A-ARE you?!' Ichigo called through several strained sobs. He wasn't stupid, he knew what this being was doing to him and he really _was_ going to die by Shinigami hands if his theory was proven correct. He couldn't withstand another feeding, not now. But he was silenced effortlessly by a forefinger laying across his lips and a hushing noise that quietly caressed his ears. 'Shizukesa (7*), little Hunter King. I won't harm you. You are 'A' - the Quincy Emperor's Heir - Kurosaki Ichigo yes?' Waiting patiently for the orangette to nod dazedly at his question, the white haired Pureblood returned his gentle touch to vibrant locks as he hummed a soothing lullaby for several minutes until his reiatsu had firmly and completely wrapped the eighteen-year-old in an unbreakable enthralment. 'I am Shiba Shiro, Ichigo. The current King of Purebloods, but you'll know me better as the Reiou of the Reiōkyū. I would have _very_ much enjoyed making your acquaintance under better circumstances than this but fate has intervened. We've been accused of your disappearance, you know. Your Father is quite a stubborn man and that Grandmaster of his is a masterful tactician, I am barely able to make a single move to defend myself against his accusations_ unless_ I can find you myself and prove to him that it wasn't I that stole his beloved son and broke the treaty agreement for petty revenge.'

'But there's a problem with this. You are severely wounded, Ichigo. Your blood is spoiled with tainted venom and you are losing consciousness. If I take you through the Senkaimon and into the Schatten Bereich, you'll end up dead in my arms _before_ I can give you back. However, I _can_ heal you…the cost in return is going to be life-changing for you but your powers _will_ remain intact. So I am offering one last salvation, little Hunter King. Do you want to die in this barren land or do you want to yield a part of your soul to me and live?' A deadly silence seemed to descend upon the two closely twined beings, Shiro helping the Quincy to sit up in his lap as he cradled a fever-warm forehead against his chest and curled supportive arms around trembling hips. The shuddering rise and fall of a heaving chest could be felt through the density of his robes, the pristine fabrics and silks dyed red with the teen's suffering as he continued to hum a soothing lullaby to ease the pain and carefully controlled his power to offer the youth some coherency to make his choice. There was a quiet whisper falling from bloodstained petal pink lips several agonizing seconds later, barely heard through the howling wind but a predatory smirk was curling with pure satisfaction across hauntingly beautiful features as the Reiou used a bent forefinger to tip a lowered chin upward and pressed a soothing kiss to the centre of furrowed tangerine brows.

'Very well, my little Hunter King. I shall grant you your wish.' Hazed chocolate brown eyes were fluttering shut in a heavy lidded gaze, a whisper of regret and resignation skittering mournfully across tanned skin as the world completely faded from around him and the heavy press of an exceptionally powerful enthralment took over the depths of his soul without restraint. Ichigo was tenderly laid back against the sand, two knees coming to rest against both of his hips as an agile frame balanced himself perfectly and the distinctive sound of a sword being drawn could be heard echoing into the eternal night. The silvery rays of a crescent moon was glinting menacingly off the tip of a smaller black blade, the wakizashi's awakening reiatsu echoing heavily through the air as it dragged a deliberate and deep gash across a pale palm. Black nailed fingertips were curling around the bleeding wound protectively, rich dark red rivulets colouring pale skin as the humming Zanpactō was driven into the sand next to Ichigo's left ear with a flick of an expert wrist and the Reiou bowed his tall frame sensually over his captive's prone form. Long hip-length white locks was tumbling evocatively over his shoulders, capturing the both of them in a separated world of their own creation as Shiro brushed a black nailed thumb across a plush, bloodstained mouth to sensually part soft lips.

'This is going to be potent, Ichigo. Several drops will be enough to heal the damage and restore your lost blood but I'm afraid I'll have to neutralize the venom tainting it with my own bite. Will you be alright with that?' The violent response of fear that the white haired King received at that question was quite startling as he was forced to carefully press his palm against a sweaty forehead to quiet the Quincy and still his movements before he could hurt himself more. 'N-no please—.' Trailing off abruptly when a single drop of blood touched his lips, Ichigo clenched his eyes shut as something fundamental instantly shattered deeply inside of him. The cry of unexpected need and terrified fear that was tugged from the depths of his lungs was startlingly loud, the sound echoing effortlessly into the vast distance surrounding them as everything faded from around him and all that he could comprehend was the rich and indiscernible taste of Pureblood Vampire blood that was sliding down his throat and the quiet and gentle baritone that was urging him to drink as much as needed. With every second that passed the orangette could feel his strength swimming back into his awareness, his head tilting to the side instinctively when the tip of a nose nuzzled the side of his neck and Shiro paid no mind to the slick pink tongue that was darting wetly across his fingertips to savour several drops of untainted blood.

'It's sickening to see what they have done to such a pure soul in a mere few days, Hunter King. So much fear should _not_ taint the depths of your eyes. I truly am sorry that this is the only way I can restore the purity of your blood. But I promise you, I will protect you from now on. I'll track down every last Arrancar and Hollow bold enough to have touched you and I shall personally eradicate them from existence. So please relax and fall into unconsciousness when the sensations overcome you, I promise to be gentle.' Those were the last words that Ichigo was able to take in, a heavy shudder chasing down his spine when a warm tongue trailed a heated path against the side of his neck and he barely had enough time to thread a weakened grip through long white locks to ground himself when the overwhelming sensation of two lengthened fangs slid effortlessly through delectably tanned skin. He stopped breathing in those moments, waiting fearfully for the shudders of violated disgust and overwhelming pain to start like it had been happening over and over again every_ single_ time he had been fed from…but this time…it didn't come. Instead the orange haired Quincy could feel a deep warmth filling the pit of his stomach as it gradually spread a heated need through his blood and eased the erratic beat of his heart and soothed it into a more controlled and rested pace.

A quiet moan of pleasure was falling shamefully from petal pink lips, trembling fingertips gripping the cool fabric of watery silk desperately as Ichigo cried out when his mind began to separate itself from reality. He _needed_ something to ground him, _someone_ to keep him from breaking apart and shattering into a thousand pieces as his awareness was stolen away by a haze of white and Shiro became the _only_ counterbalance that he could stubbornly grasp onto. The last tethers of his consciousness was slipping away from him in those moments, his body going limp as the previous darkness that Ichigo had feared; overcame the depths of his soul and tipped into a healing slumber that was submerged in waves of relief and the entanglement of two unexpected lives born on opposites sides of a bloody war. There was only one shameful and fearful thought that burned itself into the back of his mind, tainting his heart and breaking him apart with sheer mortification.

What would happen if his Kaiser knew the submission and vulnerability he had freely gifted a Shinigami that night?

No, _not_ a Shinigami…the Reiou himself.

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1* - Vollständig – Quincy Full Form  
2* - Nigiri – Grip (the grip of a traditional Japanese bow)  
3* - 233 cm – A traditional Japanese bow is quite long and it has a longer top part than bottom part, the size is the exact length that would fit Ichigo's height at 181 cm  
4* - Blut Vene – A Quincy defence technique where they make reishi flow in their veins to protect against attack and lessen the severity of wounds  
5* - Kaiser – Emperor  
6* - Vater – Father  
7* - Shizukesa – Hush/Be quiet

Right, there you have it my honeys. It's all done. If you have questions don't be afraid to ask but most of the confusion will be explained away by the next chapter. If you'd be so kind as to leave me a small review, I'd be eternally grateful to you. I'll have to see what updates next, and when since I'm busy.

But hopefully it won't be too long.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


	2. Chapter 1: Phantasia's Lullaby

I apologize that it took so long but I've been busy lately my honeys. I'm not going to say much here except to welcome you to a new multi-chapter fic, one that I feel suits my need of an intense and dark fic. There is very intricate plot in this, many questions are still unanswered but you'll have to be patient to get them answered. Phantasia's Obscure Lullaby is not for the faint of heart, it is exceedingly dark and it deals with many difficult themes.

The common warnings for now, I shall repeat here because it's the first chapter. So please heed them, they are not here for decoration. Please read them carefully too, they will intensify and change as the story progresses but there's a little here about what's to come. Remember it contains many plot elements that can be found in my other White x Black settings as well.

Phantasia's Obscure Lullaby Contains: **M/M Lemons, Angst, Dark Setting, Non-con in passing mention, trauma, Pureblood Vampire Reiou! Shiro, Pureblood Hunter Quincy! Ichigo, taboo themes, AU setting, Blood Play, Emotional Angst, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Shiro, Submissive Ichigo** and **a contrast in power** (meaning Shiro is a Shinigami and Ichigo a Quincy).

The Pairing is: **Shiba Shiro (**志波 白**) x Kurosaki Ichigo (**黒崎 一護**) **

I don't have much more to say, this chapter is dark…that's all I can say but there are no true warnings except for heavy angst. So I'll leave it to you, please enjoy.

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**Chapter 1: Phantasia's Lullaby**

A haunting silence had descended upon the depths of Hueco Mundo's desert, the eternal night overcome with threatening storm clouds as the overwhelming press of an uncontained reiatsu raced terrifyingly into the distance and encompassed the majority of a dark dimension without restraint. Forcing an instinctual and desperate need to obey _that_ power upon the lost souls of _all_ fallen Shinigami, the wiser Hollow and Arrancar concealed themselves protectively in rolling sand dunes to escape its deadly touch. Their entire kingdom had crumbled to pieces in mere minutes; a figure, draped in the telling gold and white of the Reiōkyū, having shattered the weak power system Las Noches possessed by crippling the top most tier of Espada without a single shred of remorse. The resounding echo of deafening thunder was racing defiantly through the atmosphere seconds later, breaking open thick black clouds that should never exists in this world as _his_ power leaked continuously from moonlit pale skin and the flick of a sly blue tongue traced the sensitive tips of lengthened fangs to savour the intensely sweet taste of lingering hunter blood. The call of a powerful baritone was ringing out commandingly not long after that, black nailed fingers tightening around the hilts of two unique Zanpactō as they hummed and vibrated threateningly at the call of their Master's eternal soul.

Rivers of blood had soaked through silver sand in fatal puddles, staining the ground beneath the ashen remains of the dead as golden eyes narrowed down in an intense gaze of pure, unadulterated rage. Rivulets of sickening carmine was dripping slowly from the lethal tips of dual blades, the echoing hum of their utter command ringing out with pure satisfaction as there remained _no_ doubt that the being that was so nonchalantly balanced on a platform of reishi in the heaven's, was the powerful soul that all Turned vampires, Nobles and Purebloods bowed to instinctively. He was the Reiou, the King of Purebloods and Hueco Mundo's traitors had _just_ earned the brunt of his rightful and uncontained wrath. Shiro's overwhelming reiatsu, flowing in pitch black waves from a tall frame, was abruptly called back to him as the prone form of a young blood soaked Quincy became the startling catalyst that his terrifying power had needed to protect so fiercely and viciously that night. A large black daitō was sailing through the air in a well-practiced arc, nonchalantly flicking away the remains of carnage that he had taken immense pleasure from as the blade, as long as he was tall and oddly shaped with a small parallel gap missing from the centre, was sealed away in a swathe of pattered golden silk before being draped across his straightened back.

The smaller companion to the large blade, carved its own counter clockwise path almost simultaneously through the air before being sheathed in a white saya (1*) against a right hip as Zangetsu's dual call became exceedingly loud within Shiro's soul that night. They were drowning out much of the King's rationality, setting alight moonlit pale skin with purring pleasure as black geta clad feet found the steadier surface of sand to balance himself upon. A quiet hiss of irritation was falling restlessly from pale lips, the trailing silk of a several metre-long white and gold silk haori falling behind him in numerous, evocative folds as the Reiou's regal robes remained tainted with his newly found beloved's undeserved anguish. The Heika (2*) paid no mind to the sickening sensation of enemy blood clinging to his skin, his tall frame bowing protectively over the young Quincy he had just saved from death as haunting snow white locks spilled freely over his shoulder at the pull of gravity. Silky strands were miscoloured by the magnitude of carnage that had taken place, Shiro having made _sure_ to fulfil every last word of the promise he had made to Kurosaki Ichigo earlier as he carefully reached black nailed fingertips forward to capture a single crimson droplet of his own blood moistening luscious petal pink lips.

_Such innocence should never be tainted_, he thought to himself despairingly. Bringing the last remains of his own blood to pale lips, a solemn frown tugged at surprisingly full lips as the Pureblood licked away the bitter taste and quietly recalled the young Hunter's actions when he had lapped up droplets of red like a starving child. He had never seen anything like it before, the Quincy Heir was an extraordinary force to be reckoned with from what small glimpse he had been given into the orangette's power upon entering Hueco Mundo. The Senkaimon had opened into this plane just as the startling collision of Ichigo's contrasting Hunter and Aizen's turned Vampire power had come to an end. Witnessing the last moments of a black haired angel's fatal arrow as it had severed Seireitei's most hated enemy's ties to life, was something he would_ never_ forget. The very heavens had trembled beneath the Hunter's feet, the horizon engulfed in a sea of black as large pitch black wings had only been a breath taking prelude to those evocatively swaying thigh-length locks and Kurosaki Ichigo's single loosed shaft had overpowered his captor without a shred of remorse. Those intensely focused chocolate brown eyes had ensured that the arrow hadn't missed, his actions alone having been more than enough to break apart this plane's entire falsified kingdom by destroying the will of the opposing forces.

With more than half of Las Noches' dome blown away and a powerful Turned Vampire crumbled to dust with a single arrow, it was no wonder that the Hollows and Arrancar under Aizen's rule had quietly let themselves be hunted down by the Reiou's deadly Zanpactō that night. If Shiro had known that Yhwach had concealed such a powerful being under his command, he was sure that the cost of lives on both sides of this war could have been lessened significantly over the last few years. He was quick to retract that unjust thought however, belatedly realizing that even though the little Hunter King's Vollständig was something transcendent of fate, he would remain far _too_ young and inherently innocent for the battlefield at this stage…regardless of his epithet 'A' and status as the Quincy Emperor's beloved Heir. That was probably _why_ the Pureblood had never encountered Kurosaki Ichigo before now, even when the Quincy/Shinigami treaty had been drafted between to the Kaiser and Reiou for well over three years of shaky and slow negotiations. Yhwach was rightfully and carefully shielding his strongest and youngest Stern Ritter from the bloody thousand year war that bound both the Gotei-13 and Wandenreich in an eternal battle of proving superiority and inferiority over one another.

And the restless fluctuations of the orange haired Hunter's soul, was also a stark indication that he was nowhere _near_ mature enough to come into his true power and control it by himself.

'Please forgive my slowness in finding you, little Hunter King.' A quiet baritone noted sorrowfully, Shiro brushing his fingertips through messy orange locks that were quite long and dishevelled as vibrant strands skittered playfully across blood stained cheeks and threw closed eyes into dark shadow. 'I could have spared your soul much of the pain and suffering it has been put through. I shall praise you however, for finding such uncontained strength whilst seriously injured and emotionally shaken. You are undeniably the Quincy Emperor's Heir, Kurosaki Ichigo. And without your help, I wouldn't have been able to fulfil my words to you and end this petty squabble amongst my kin with only Zangetsu by my side.' Tenderly using the edge of a gold trimmed bell sleeve, the white haired King methodically cleansed the sickening carmine that still clung to pale features as he took in the perpetual furrow that was settled between tangerine brows, pale cheeks that were tinted slightly with a flush and luscious pink lips that were parted sensually under the effects of an enthralled sleep. _So beautiful_, he noted to himself internally. He couldn't help but repeat that lingering thought several times over and over again; his soul completely enraptured by the presence of a single being that was quickly taking over his mind without restraint and saturated his blood with complete and uncontained desire.

There was a frown of confusion furrowing the white haired King's brow not long after that though, the effects of his own bloodlust falling away in lieu of more rational thought as he memorized the teen's features with the tips of his fingers now that there was no longer needed to defend the Quincy's honour and life so fiercely. This was…this was impossible! A breath of surprise was hitching painfully in his chest, a slow hiss falling from pale lips as tender actions faltered momentarily in their cleansing task. It was like gazing into the depths of an inverted looking glass, his own youthful features staring back at him as Shiro shuddered in dark trepidation when he found a doppelganger reflection of his own eighteen-year-old form laying in the sands of Hueco Mundo. Only, the hair colour was wrong, the skin too tanned and the pain glazed eyes he had glimpsed earlier were a deep and haunting chocolate brown that seemed slightly familiar to him. He couldn't recall where exactly he had seen the same hue or when, but it was slightly disconcerting now that he thought about it. The Reiou of the Reiōkyū was not supposed to age beyond the appearance of twenty, like most Pureblood Vampires did, but the current Reiou was special case because he was only considered eighteen himself and had ascended the throne _much_ too early according to the advisors.

That couldn't be helped, damn it! The Shiba Heir had been forced to take over the Pureblood Throne a mere two-years earlier when the trouble with Aizen had started and his father, Shiba Isshin, had vanished into the Human World on one of his whimsical trips. The spiky black haired being hadn't been heard from since, regardless of the severity that most of the nobles considered the political situation engulfing the Vampire and Hunter world to be. The young Reiou hadn't gone out of his way to look for his childish father either, Isshin was _known_ for his whimsies and his only son was far too busy trying to fix the political upheaval that his far too early succession had caused. But he was presented with a perplexing problem now, the orangette seemed to carry the distinctive features that the Shiba bloodline possessed. Only, it was a complete impossibility for it to be real since there was _no_ doubt that Kurosaki Ichigo was an Echt (3*) Quincy. The Reiou has tasted his blood, felt the overwhelming thrum of his power and imprinted upon his mind the sensation of a still maturing soul. He didn't know _what_ to think anymore, his mind racing restlessly through the endless possibilities until he settled upon the simple fact that somehow, somewhere, they must share a common ancestor.

How exactly a pureblood Quincy and ancient Shinigami bloodline had become mixed, was not something that Shiro could completely rationalize in those moments. That was a problem for the Monk of Perception, the problem solver and peacemaker of the Royal Guard, to take into consideration instead. Ichibei-san was bound to find an answer to every perplexing problem sooner or later, his vast knowledge spanned into the intimate and illicit secrets of the Royal Family even more than even the current Reiou himself knew about. Speaking of the devil, Shiro thought irritably. What the _hell_ had those five been doing during the last hour whilst their King had saved the life of the Kaiser's successor and shattered the remaining forces of Aizen's traitorous army? Deciding that he had played around in more than enough of his fallen kin's dirty blood that night, the hip-length white haired being carefully gathered a sleeping Hunter against his chest and stood with fluid, graceful movements. He made sure to sear an utterly addictive scent into the depths of his soul as the overwhelmingly sweet taste of Echt blood still lingered blissfully upon his tongue. Shiro couldn't understand his actions around the young orangette anymore, it was like he was _drawn_ to him by pure instinct alone and deep inside, he had found what had been missing from inside him since he had first been brought into this world.

Could this be the sensation Otou-sama had talked about when a Pureblood found his beloved and life-mate? It would indeed be a strange twist of fate if it were true but the Reiou knew for a fact that he had never tasted anything as sweet and fulfilling as the Quincy's blood before, never felt a desperate need to protect anyone as fiercely as he had that night and he knew somehow that he would never feel like this again either. He wanted to mark this being for eternity, _watch_ as the orangette lost himself in the pure pleasure of an un-enthralled Pureblood bite and he skilfully melded the Hunter's entire existence with his so that he could claim the purity of the little Prinz der Nacht (4*) all for himself. Kurosaki Ichigo would belong solely and eternally to_ him_, nothing more and nothing less would do. For the King of Purebloods to be attracted so deeply to a being that was the exact opposite of his soul, was asking for _all_ sorts of taboo trouble that shouldn't be crossed but he had found _such_ pleasure in the sweet submission he had been offered in the last moments of the orangette's consciousness. Those chocolate brown eyes had been teeming with such sorrow, such beautiful anguish…just like a broken marionette that still seemed to remain so undeniably innocent regardless of his shattered soul and dark despair…

It was an inherent purity, wrapped in the shadows of his contrasting power and painted with blood, that Shiro wanted to preserve and cultivate into an eternal beloved by his side. Because Ichigo's pure blood was thick with the shadows of his Hunter power, rich with growing potential and possessed the markings of an unshakable soul that could be moulded into anything when lovingly healed. It was beauty, a source of strength, comfort for loneliness, pleasure for carnal desires and the beginnings of a perfect Consort for the eternal stretch of time that was ahead—. Dragged from the depths of his intense musings when strained hearing picked up the sound of waraji shifting through moonlit sand, golden eyes narrowed down abruptly as a thrum of familiar power entered the range of his senses and the white haired King carefully drew his beloved to his chest before cradling a fever-warm forehead against his neck to conceal innocently sleeping features from preying eyes. The tension between his shoulders loosened minutely however, when the Sentōki (5*) of the Reiōkyū came to a halt before his King with an irritable frown furrowing dark brows and the Devine General of the East took note of the alarming amount of blood that was staining most of the Reiou's regal haori a telling, dark, crimson red.

'Not a word, Kirinji. I don't want to hear it. It's not my blood so you can stop worrying. If I'm forced to listen to another half-hour lecture through the Chōkaimon (6*) about how Senjumaru is going to throw a fit about the state of my robes, I _will_ lose my temper. 'And Shiro spoke nothing but the truth in those moments, his irritability reaching dangerous levels the longer that he stayed in this barren and tainted dimension. He was more than wound up enough by the release of his power already, completely unsettled by the need he had to protect the unconscious Hunter that was laying in his arms and the invasion of a powerful presence was just one step too close for comfort. Frowning in concern when a childlike whimper reached his ears in response to his angered baritone, golden eyes glanced down briefly to make sure the orangette was still caught up in a healing sleep as he straightened his shoulders defensively when the black haired Guard took a step forward out of concern. 'Che! Such childishness, Heika! I was only going to ask if I could take the burden from your arms. The Kaiser's Heir, I am assuming it is 'A'? He is clearly in need of medical attention and I'll need to assess the damage before Nimaiya can open a gate back into the Reiōkyū and Ichibei can stabilize the Dangai for your safe travels.'

'Ichigo is fine, Kirinji. There's no way that he will still be injured after drinking my blood to heal his wounds. He'll sleep until the damage to his soul has been completely healed, as he is now he should be stable enough to withstand a trip through the Dangai if I halve the time by hurrying up—.' Interrupted by a sharp gasp of surprise and a flicker of shunpo that lead the Guard's tall frame to lean over the young Hunter's sleeping form, the Reiou took a defensive step back the moment that uninvited fingers rested upon furrowed tangerine brows and a flicker of green Kaidō sunk into a fevered forehead. 'You_ claimed_ him and he's still alive?! What sort soul does this child possess, Your Majesty? Quincies as you know, cannot drink the blood of Pureblood Vampires unless they are of equal strength. He's—.' Allowing for an annoyed hiss to spill passed pale lips several seconds later, golden eyes pinned the more outlandish of his guard's with deadly glare before turning his back and making the considerable distance towards the presence of the Tōshin (7*) shorter by incorporating high level shunpo. This was the sort of reaction that he was expecting out of the hot tempered General, he was as turbulent as the waters of his hot springs were…only the healer seemed to be valiantly holding his patronizing words back so as to not anger the Reiou any more than he already had.

A considerably _wise_ choice, Shiro thought vindictively. Zangetsu wasn't entirely settled down yet and the white haired King wouldn't think twice about drawing his Zanpactō to make his true irritation known that night.

'He's only partially claimed, Baka! You think I would mark him out in the open where anyone can see and after he _barely_ lived through such a traumatizing experience himself? He consented to taking my blood to heal his wounds and I erased the taint that the Arrancar left on his soul. He would have died if I had not done so! I am well aware of the power the little Hunter King's soul possesses, I wouldn't have offered him my blood otherwise. He also wouldn't have yielded a part of his soul to me as willingly as he had if I had forced him—.' Silencing the being that interrupted his words with a single lash of deadly reiatsu, the Reiou continued on his path until he came to a halt in front of a large gate of light that had been drawn in the sky. 'One word about the political ramifications and taboos I have broken this night and I will have _no_ qualms about disciplining any of you. It was either I saved Kurosaki Ichigo soul as quickly as possible or I could just as well sacrifice my Kingdom and life to Yhwach_ right_ now. I am not very fond of testing that man's patience, not when so little is known about his true power. The origins of his soul is just as much a mystery to the world as why all vampires feel compelled to bow before the Shiba bloodline.' For several moments, Shiro could feel his commanding words echoing powerfully into the distance before he made sure geta clad feet had a stable grip on Hueco Mundo's sand.

'If you wish to still carry out your rightful duty as Guards to the Reiou, you better keep up. There's no time for leisure strolls through the Chōkaimon tonight. The Quincy King needs to be invited to the palace within the next twenty-four hours and_ I_ need to make sure that his beloved son is awake, healed and somewhat stable by the time he arrives. Stained like he is now in his own blood, sick and the violation of one or more Arrancar is _not_ a taint that he deserves or should _have_ to live through for much longer.' Reaching deeply into the depths of his soul for the inherent speed that ran irrevocably in the family bloodline, the white haired King disappeared in a flicker of exceedingly fast shunpo without looking back.

He was just as eager to clean off the dirty blood tainting his own skin in the purifying baths.

There had been too much bloodshed that night because of careless traitors and the mournful loss of innocence that should never have been involved in this war in the first place. Mind you, Shiro was _also_ considered far too young for any involvement in such a vicious war and needless sacrifice.

**...**

A soothing baritone was humming a quiet and familiar lullaby, slowly easing a waking consciousness back into dazed reality as deeply hazed chocolate brown eyes clenched shut in physical strain at the overwhelming sensation of nausea that was settled in the pit of an anxious stomach. Rousing Kurosaki Ichigo's mind into awareness far too quickly for his body to truly keep up, the orange haired Quincy was forced to choke back a dark cough as his entire soul was abruptly overloaded with sensitized sensations and a lingering, addictive, scent that encompassed the entirety of his trembling form in mere seconds. He was slowly drawing in several shaky breaths of the comforting aroma, not able to place immediately the mix of herbs or gentle floral notes as a quiet whimper of childlike unease spilled shamefully from parted petal pink lips. Restless fingertips had twined desperately through soft silk, the tickling caress of long hair brushing playfully across pale cheeks to further tether his mind to reality as a gentle tone never once ceased the quiet but calming hum of a distant lullaby. For the first few seconds of his dazed and confused awareness, Ichigo could have sworn that the arms that were keeping him pressed so reassuringly against a strong chest in familiar, almost parental-like comfort, was his Vater's familiar and grounding touch.

Something felt off with the rationality of the situation though, he was no longer a young child in need of his Father's comfort and the Quincy Emperor had _always_ smelt of cool shadows, burning reishi fire, expensive brandy and the blood of his enemies. That was _not_ the scent that was engulfing Ichigo so wholly now, oh no. It was a scent that he was completely unfamiliar with, bringing to light the fact that the body he was curled up to so shamefully close was one that he could _not_ remember inviting there by consent. His entire being stiffened abruptly in startled realization, a desperate gasp filling harshly resisting lungs as chocolate brown eyes snapped open in absolute terror and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth to silence the startled scream that was building deafeningly in his throat. _No_!_ No_ screaming, he disciplined himself harshly. It _only_ increased the vindictive and cruel pleasure of his captives. He would _not_ break, he would _not_ shatter, he _would_ silence himself until his bonds has loosened and he could—. Interrupted in the rapid flow of his panicked thoughts, a furrow of deep confusion curled across tangerine brows as the orange haired Quincy briefly recalled a vague memory of thigh-length black hair, black wings, a perfectly executed Vollstӓndig and the death of a ghastly demon in the sands of Hueco Mundo's barren and lifeless dessert.

Was that him? He could recall the detached sensation he had felt in those moments, the overwhelming power from a single solidified arrow that had formed from the tips of gloved fingertips and had blacked out the heavens when released _before_ the true pain had truly started. He could have sworn that there had been a white haired Shinigami helping him, only to feed from him and tried to hurt him like the others but there hadn't been any pain—. Intense golden eyes swam dazedly into the narrowed range of Ichigo's panicked vision, his entire world flipped upside down when guiding hands set him back on his feet and elegant black nailed fingertips curled supportively around his upper arm to ease his unsteady feet. Frantic chocolate brown eyes were flicking restlessly from one side of a large outside onsen (8*) to the other, his mind _barely_ able to register a rare and beautiful traditional Japanese garden that was structured around three large rock pools and a flowing waterfall that rang in tandem to the quiet tap, tap of several bamboo fountains. Steam from the heated water had risen thickly through the air, saturating his mind with heady confusion and an invigorating sweet scent as wisps of white fog licked playfully at blood stained knee-length white boots and Ichigo caught sight of long swaying hip-length white locks that accentuated a Shinigami's slightly taller frame.

Surprisingly gentle eyes were observing his reactions with concern, an unusual playful smirk seeming to tug at pale lips as Ichigo took several frantic steps backwards and instinctively raised his left arm in front of him to call upon his powers. The silvery rays of a large full moon was glinting menacingly off the blood stained pendant of his Quincy cross, the silver bracelet engulfed in dancing shadows as the orangette prepared to call upon the reishi in the air to solidify his bow mere seconds _before_ he realized that his opponent was unarmed and had nonchalantly crossed his arms over his chest. Black robes, more intricately designed and flowing with intricate obis, golden chains and regal silks than any Shinigami shihakusho Ichigo had ever come across, was draped evocatively around proud shoulders as a blood stained white and gold silk haori dragged on the floor several meters behind swaying white locks and a restrictive but gentle palm curled around Ichigo's left wrist several seconds later. Halting the flow of his rising power with considerable ease, the orange haired Hunter was forced to jerk back fearfully before a started cry was forced from parted lips unbidden of his permission and a fearful shudder raced with sheer trepidation down his spine.

The orange haired teen would have fallen to the floor with lost footing had strong arms not wound around his waist and pulled him bodily into a tight embrace, Ichigo barely able to keep back the desire within him to fight and push away the far too close contact that imprisoned him from all sides. He wanted to scream_ so_ much, to cry out, _wail_ his confusion and all-consuming despair but _all_ that could escape his lips were several painful hitched sobs and rushing whines that were so quiet that they were near undetectable to human ears. Gentle fingertips had come up comfortingly though, twining softly through messy and semi-long orange locks to calm the young Hunter's unease as a flood of heavy reiatsu settled commandingly around tanned skin and Ichigo valiantly tried to use his palms to create some space between their bodies again. _Too_ close, the white haired Shinigami was _too_ close but something within halted Ichigo's harsh resistance. His mind reeling with the disgusting sensation of helplessness when he realized that he wouldn't be able to go anywhere or do anything at all in those moments…the Shinigami's power was far too potent and commanding against his senses and the orangette's knew intimately that control over his bow was shaky at best when he was in such deep emotional upheaval himself.

It was painful to _breathe_, to_ think_, to—.

'Ease yourself, Quincy. Please.' A rumbling baritone echoed steadily, instantly snapping Ichigo's attention to the surprisingly gentle sound as the world spun in dizzying circles around him and the tremors wracking his frame increased with every second that passed. 'If you draw your bow here, Kirinji will have you incapacitated with kido so fast that you won't even be able to blink.' Tenderly brushing away dishevelled and vibrant strands that fell forward to conceal terrified chocolate brown eyes from sight, Shiro calmly read fearful depths that seemed to struggle to gain awareness and memory as the seconds dragged into one minute, then two, three, five, eight and finally fifteen before painfully stuttering breaths seemed to calm down minutely and the orangette's body relaxed slightly against a comforting embrace. The scent that was drifting so calmingly into the range of Ichigo's senses, was heady where the white haired Shinigami kept his forehead and nose pressed against the side of a pale neck. The tickling sensation of long white strand falling forward over strong shoulders protectively, enclosed 'A' in a gentle caress meant to ease his terror as a soothing baritone began to hum a soft lullaby in gentle and lulling tones again… completely shattering what little control Ichigo had over his emotions.

'P-please!_ P-please_! L-let me go! L-let me g-go! I want to go home! _Please_! I just want to—.' All that Ichigo could achieve in those moments were broken sentences and express the wail of internal anguish that was building up painfully inside his chest. His heart was clinging _desperately_ to the only pillar of strength he could find, the thought never seeming to cross his mind that the only grounding point that he was able to grasp onto was something that should never register as 'safe', 'comfort' and 'protection' for even a second. Shameful tears were scorching hot as they dragged paths of pure sorrow down fever flushed cheeks, crystalline droplets blurring across a hazed vision as grounding arms tightened reassuringly around his waist and a gentle baritone echoed into the range of Ichigo's awareness commandingly once more. A cool forehead had fallen soothingly against the top of his head, a consoling kiss brushing the shaggy tips of dishevelled and waywardly spiky orange locks as the Pureblood King's simple action eased away the flickering images of turbulent memories that were playing in the back of Ichigo's clenched eyelids over and over and over again. 'Hush now little Hunter King, _please_. Just breathe Kurosaki Ichigo, _breathe_ and calm yourself. I'll _help_ you get home, I _promise. _You are not a prisoner here, I shall _not_ detain you against your will. You have my word on this as the Reiou.'

'So just breathe, Prinz der Nacht. I won't let go until you can stand by yourself and you have calmed down a bit. Will you take comfort from my words, _if_ I tell you that your beloved Father and Emperor has already been contacted and knows exactly where you are?' Not able to give a worded response through the heavy and overwhelming weight of his constant panic, Ichigo nodded shakily as black nailed fingertips lifted to swipe away burning tears that were falling from the corner of curling black lashes and warm lips pressed against the centre of his forehead to ground his awareness more fully. 'It will take twenty-four hours for all seventy two barriers protecting the Reiōkyū to be unlocked before I can allow him passage passed the gates, so you'll have to wait a bit before you can go home. But I am willing to open the Daidairi (9*) to him, regardless of who and what he is, simply because of your need for his presence and the faith I have in his sense of honour rather than the rumours of his ruthlessness. Until that time, 'A', you are a_ guest_ of this palace and in the Shiba Family, it is customary to heal the wounds of the injured, provide food and shelter and cater to the whims of any being without prejudice to their status or race. Here, you will be safe because you fall under my protection.'

'We are in my private purifying baths at the moment, little Hunter King. The Sentōki has been kind enough to draw the water from his own springs so that the lingering scars of your wounds can heal, your emotions can be eased and your power restored more fully. Senjumaru-san will make you a new uniform to replace your old one by morning and I'm sure that Kirio-san will make something to eat once we are done. So if you can find some control, please follow me…the showers are this way.' Reality still seemed so _very_ far away from Ichigo's consciousness at that point, most of the words the white haired Shinigami had spoken were eluding his concentration. But somehow, just listening to that gentle baritone seemed to ease the orange haired Hunter's upheaval as he obediently followed behind steady geta clad steps that echoed a much steadier rhythm upon stone floors than Ichigo's heavy boot steps that were surprisingly quiet, uncertain and much more unsure of their gait. Time was indiscernible against his senses though, chocolate brown eyes forced to look down in confusion when stone became expensive tile beneath his feet and he was lead into a separate room next to the large baths that contained several showers divided by thick stone walls and opaque black curtains.

Pointed in the direction of a white silk yukata, fluffy towels and told that he could take his time for as long as he wanted; Ichigo found it a difficult task to even get his body to obey his mind in those moments. His hands were still shaking unsteadily, an irrational and deep fear rising within his blood when he realized he would eventually need to shed the tattered barrier of his previously immaculate white uniform. He didn't want to though, it was the _only_ thing that he felt kept a large part of his true vulnerability shielded from sight but his body continued to move without his mind's consent. Ichigo was using the momentary privacy that the showers provided, eventually stepping beneath the soothing spray of a warm water as his restless emotions and panicked thoughts retreated very far into the depths of his mind where no emotions could reach and his soul would be shielded against the pain for a while. Tanned skin was shivering with shock of numbing cold though, the heat of the water not enough to wash the true dirt and humiliation from his skin until trembling fingertips adjusted the water near scalding and thick, humid, steam rose up restrictive against his senses. Ichigo remained immensely grateful however, when the steady stream of water concealed the flow of emotions that dragged down his cheeks one for one unbidden of his control or permission.

Dull chocolate brown eyes paid no mind to the eye catching red that was forming a small pool upon white marble tiles, the water would ultimately cleanse itself sometime or the other. But even when red ran pink and coloured translucent beneath bare feet, the sensation of tainted violation had not yet faded from around the teen's soul and still left behind an unclean layer of dirt that had settled permanently and despairingly upon tanned skin. It felt like it would _never_ come off; not even the emotions that he was sure he should be feeling seemed to be able penetrate the dark despair that his soul had fallen into. Too many things had happened over the course of the last few days, his mind unable to take anything in as common sense thankfully forced him from beneath the spray of much too hot water the moment that large black dots swirled dangerously into the range of his vision and his consciousness could fade into a dark and frightening oblivion where he knew dreams were too harsh to survive and clawing fingers dug painfully into his skin where they should never be allowed to touch. A soft baritone seemed to creep into his awareness in those moments again though, a soft melody caressing his ears once more as Ichigo bound a white silk yukata firmly around his waist and wound his own arms around his waist in search of self-comfort.

The Prinz der Nacht didn't _like_ the sensation of traditional Japanese clothes, there wasn't enough structure and tightness to make him feel safe…it was too flowing. But the strange instinctual need he had to listen to that lilting lullaby, overcame the depths of his soul in mere seconds as uncertain steps headed back in the direction of the baths without any true thought to his actions. His attention was strangely captivated by only one being that night, exhausted chocolate brown eyes taking in the haunting splay of hip-length white locks that were drifting lazily in the water around a lithe and well sculpted form. Shiro was standing in the middle of a traditional outside onsen, the clear water coming up to hips as bright moonlight ignited pale skin in an iridescent and ethereal shimmer. Golden eyes flicked in the orangette's direction curiously not long after that, the Reiou taking note of the audience he had captivated as a sly smile curled across pale lips and he lifted beckoning fingertips to call the young Hunter towards him. The Quincy didn't move though, frozen to the spot with uncertainty and fear as the Reiou sighed softly and dragged black nailed fingertips through shaggy white bangs that skittered across his forehead and stuck wetly to his cheeks.

'You're not going to come in?' Ichigo shook his head in the negative, he didn't think he'd have the strength to do so especially when he would have to shed the silk barrier that offered him a little strength. He did seat himself on the rock close to the edge of the bath though, drawing his legs protectively to his chest and folding his arms around them as he listened to a quiet hum as the Reiou came to rest with his back pressed against black stone and his form stayed close enough to Ichigo's side so that he was constantly aware of his presence but not overwhelmed by the proximity of his reiatsu. 'Are you sure, little Hunter King? Kirinji really does draw the best baths in the entire palace. Still no? Well, I'll have to ask him to draw you one in the morning when you can be here by yourself.' Shiro wasn't expecting an answer to his words, the Quincy seemed eerily calm and doll-like where he was sitting. Those vibrant orange strands, shimmering much more brightly now that the blood had been cleaned away, were falling forward artfully into dark brown eyes as the Shinigami's movements were tracked wearily and fearfully everytime he shifted. It couldn't be helped, he supposed…trauma was—.

'That lullaby you sing, Reiou…I-I've heard it before.' A lilting and beautiful tenor noted quietly, shattering the calm that had settled upon two forms as a frown furrowed white brows and Shiro looked up curiously at the sound. Chocolate brown eyes were gazing at him curiously from behind messy orange strands, a tired chin resting on top of drawn up knees as a swirl of uncontained melancholy seemed to film over vibrantly expressive orbs. Only this time it seemed to be fuelled by a flicker of dark nostalgia rather than panic and uneasy emotions. Luscious petal pink lips parted with quiet, near unheard words, though; dragging Shiro's attention towards the peak of a slick pink tongue that raced across soft lips to wet their sudden dryness. Displaying a bold silvery tongue ring piercing its slick surface, the Reiou reeled internally at the unexpected and sensual need the sight ignited through his blood. Did the little King know what he was doing to his Shinigami counterpart with that alone? It was definitely getting more and more difficult to contain the need within him to _possess_ this beautiful being all for himself, he was simply too tempting. 'My mother used to sing it to me when I was young,' Ichigo continued quietly.

'I don't recall the words anymore, I lost too much memory of my life before the Kaiser took me in at six. But I do remember the melody very clearly, it's just been a long time since I've heard it.'

'Hn? Are you sure it's the same one, Ichigo?' Shiro asked in bewilderment, black nailed fingertips skimming the surface of perfectly heated water as the frown furrowed between white brows deepened ever so slightly with perplexed thought. 'My father, despite his insane antics and overbearingly childish personality, has a good voice when he sings. He has a surprisingly eloquent ear for music, too. I've been told numerous times "Daddy Isshin wrote Phantasia's Lullaby just for little Shi, now sing it back to me so that I can kiss you goodnight." Thing is though, I never _did_ sing it back to him…the bastard. I would have been killed by his affection within the first years of my life if I did anything he asked me to. I find it strange that you should know it, Ichigo. The melody shouldn't have travelled beyond the walls of this palace…much less remembered by someone who grew up on the other side of a bloody war that has bound the Quincy and Shinigami up for more than a thousand years of needless bloodshed.'

* * *

Allowing for a soft sigh to fall from pale lips, the Reiou of the Reiōkyū leaned his head back against the soft surface of his throne as elegant black nailed fingertips cradled a cup of warm tea in the palm of his hands. Dawn had risen quickly over the Greater Palace, the haunting red and orange light creeping slowly across the dark horizon as sensitive golden eyes did not dare look away from the rare and astoundingly beautiful sight spread before him. Several intricate kido barriers had been erected around the large Throne Room, allowing for the coming and going guests, advisors and the King himself to enjoy a chance to see the sun but not feel the devastating pain of its touch. It was not often that he was awake to see it, Shiro thought to himself absently. He was usually exhausted by the time that morning rolled around and it became time to retire for day-sleep. But the last seventy-two hours had afforded him far too little chance for any true rest when Seireitei was on the brink of war and the Wandenreich had their forces strategically and very well positioned to make good on any and all threats should the Quincy King not have his Heir returned to him unharmed. Sleep, oh how he wished for it in those moments but it had been hard to find for the last six and half days that Kurosaki Ichigo had been captured and imprisoned by Aizen Sousuke's devious plan to take over the Reiou's throne.

He held nothing but eternal gratitude to the young orangette for eliminating that traitor, now the Quincy/Shinigami alliance could get back on track with the original purpose of their negotiations since the Oyaji had started drawing up the treaty three years ago. There would be no more need to join forces to defeat Hueco Mundo's False King, no threat to both Eternal Kings because the true agreement could finally move forward without the influence of dangerous threats. The current problem was, the Reiou currently had a severely traumatized and powerful Quincy under his care. It was difficult to keep Ichigo from not releasing his full power when he felt threatened by the constant presence of beings he had been raised to be weary of, if not hate completely. He'd lost count of all the times he'd been forced to call off the Guards instinctive reaction to protect their King during the last twenty-four hours. But to calm the little Hunter King's panic when he was awake, was sometimes a little dangerous to the Reiou's health when he nearly had his heart impaled by a deadly accurate arrow more than once. If it was not for the fact that he carried Zangetsu with him at all times, things could get ugly, _very_ quickly…the Kaiser's Heir hadn't been chosen to carry on his Vater's epithet without good reason.

Kurosaki Ichigo was a force to be reckoned with, even when his power was stable and not so directly influenced by his emotions. The troubling thing though, was that it wasn't stable at the moment. It had taken Shiro more than two hours in the guest room just to get him to fall asleep _with_ the influence of a heavy enthrallment. The orangette's bouts of eerie stillness worried him, he had been caught in a dazed state for most of the time he'd been awake since his retrieval from Hueco Mundo. But hopefully the fact that the Quincy Emperor had accepted Shiro's invitation to finish the peace talks in the Reiōkyū over the next few weeks and the ability to provide his most beloved Stern Ritter with the familiar presence and contact that he seemed to need so desperately to heal, would help the little Hunter King where Shiro couldn't. Even though Ichigo only seemed to respond to _his_ presence in some fashion, it wasn't enough to truly offer any comfort from the tainted hell he had just stepped out of. There was also another dangerous problem now, the Hunter was going to start craving the Reiou's blood until Shiro could complete the claim on the orangette's soul and mark his life-mate. To save a life and balance a soul a mere day ago, deadly taboos had been crossed and two lives had been twined together irrevocably by the red string of fate.

The sheer political and societal upheaval that would erupt as a result, was going to send shockwaves through both the Silbern Fortress and the Reiōkyū when the truth was finally revealed. That was something that would be approached later, not when the world was crumbling beneath two very powerful Kingdoms' feet. It was best not to ponder the outcomes of the future when there were bigger problems to deal with on this day instead of what could possibly happen several weeks or months from now. Gazing down at the cooling contents of a traditional Japanese tea cup, Shiro brought sweet tea to his lips to satiate his growing thirst before observing the arched double doors leading into the Throne Room critically. Coming face to face with a transcendent soul he had only heard stories about and observed in person a few times before, was _not_ the best way for him to spend his 'day' when he should be sleeping in his bed with _no_ responsibility to the Reiou Throne for another two hundred years at least. Bastard Oyaji, Shiro thought irritably. He was going to find his old man and break him the next time he saw him, damn it! Too many questions has been raised over the last few days, many that the current Reiou could not answer himself and the young Hunter that was tied to it all…there seemed to be something more binding them together than the blood they had shared and the life that had been saved.

Forcing himself to stand after he had finished his tea, a blue tongue swiped absently across the sharp tips of Pureblood fangs as Shiro thanked the heaven's for the empty room around him. It would make dealing with the Kaiser a little easier if his advisors were not there to interfere and cause more trouble than any actual help that they were there to provide. The regal folds of a gold and white haori was spread evocatively on the floor behind him, the tinkling chain of a twining golden chain ringing out as Zangetsu's smaller blade brushed comfortingly against his right thigh as the larger presence remained sealed and draped across his back. At least his robes were clean of any drop of blood, he noted mirthfully. Long bell sleeves were falling forward to brush against the back of his hands as a ringing silver bell indicated his movement by the black tassels that kept his hair bound at the back of his neck. Just before he could lift black nailed fingertips to brush dishevelled and messy strands away from his eyes, the doors were pushed open with the sensation of an exceedingly powerful and indiscernible presence as it pressed commandingly against the edges of his soul. The steady rhythm of controlled boot steps echoing into the distance in a pattern that was just as commanding and controlled as the man's presence was before golden eyes eventually lifted to collide with fathomless, dark midnight blue eyes…

'Welcome, Your Majesty and his Grandmaster, B, to the Soul King's Palace.' A controlled baritone noted cordially. The small smirk that was curled across pale lips, betraying the more brash part of the Reiou's personality as he stared down at the only being in the world that could probably take him out if he so willed it. A flicker of shunpo lead him down a raised dais though, black geta clad feet silent upon marble floors as the imposing form and Father to the Quincy Race narrowed dark eyes slightly at the Shinigami's seemingly playful actions. The pristine white uniform and dark, blood red, cloak was only adding to the deadly aura of the Kaiser as a quiet frown tugged across dark brows and the Wandenreich's Grandmaster offered the King a stoic nod to acknowledge his welcome. They always travelled in a pair, Shiro didn't know why but at times it had felt as if the fair haired Quincy held just as much sway over their troops as the Emperor himself did. It was an interesting dynamic though, the white haired being having witnessed the subtle change in personality the blonde displayed when negotiations had been held at night time and Yhwach had been unavailable.

'If only under better circumstances, I suppose.' He noted quietly, not even looking over his shoulder to make sure he was being followed down the hallways and deeper into the private wings of the palace. In the vast range of his senses he could feel several lower ranking guards keeping a close watch, even when Shiro himself was armed.

This was still considered a _highly_ volatile situation—.

'Ah, if only.' A haunting tone noted sorrowfully behind him. 'I would have enjoyed seeing this palace under less urgent circumstance, my son born in the dark.'

* * *

1* - Saya – Sheath (usually only for a katana but the smaller of Zangetsu's dual blades does have one from Chapter 555 of the Manga and onwards)  
2* - Heika – Your Majesty/His Majesty/King  
3* - Echt – Pureblood Quincy  
4* - Prinz der Nacht – Prince of the Night  
5* - Sentōki – Hot Spring Demon  
6* - Chōkaimon – Great World Piercing Gate (used to get from the Reiōkyū to the Human World but I'm taking liberties with it here)  
7* - Tōshin – God Of Sword  
8* - Onsen – Hot Springs  
9* - Reiou Daidairi – Greater Soul King Palace

Right, there you have it my honeys. Thank you for reading, I appreciate it. I know there is confusion but this is a multi-chapter fic so you'll just have to be patient. I'm working with an unexplored concept here and it'll take a while to get everything together plot wise. If I may ask for a small review, I'd be eternally grateful to you.

That's all from me, I'll see you again soon…hopefully for another update.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


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