Chapter Four

He heard it start during the night. Well after midnight.

That's what must have woken him.

The rain.

It was coming down heavy against the ground, drilling waves of water across the roof of his small cabin. A passing storm.

He sat up in his bed, thin single sheet falling away and spilling down feather light across his waist.

He sat still and in silence in the dark for a long stiff moment, eyes wide as they adjusted to the pitch black, gathering all the light they could. Which was hardly any light at all. His head tilted slightly, moving every now and then, following after every phantom trace of sound. Anything that didn't belong. His candle had burned down, but he wasn't trying to see as much as he was trying to listen.

To everything but the rain.

It wasn't just the sound of the storm. Something behind the heavy patter of falling water and rolling grumble of thunder had pulled him from sleep.

Something else.

He pulled the sheet down and across his thighs and slipped as silently as he could from the bed. He was naked, but the air was warmer than usual tonight, and the feel of it against his skin went unnoticed.

Bare feet made no noise on the wood floor. He moved carefully through the dark, pausing to take in the room around him as a bright but brief flash of lightening threw a patch of near daylight across the floor. It lit the room, casting dark shadows behind the mirror and beneath the dresser and bed.

Just shadows.

Nothing out of place.

The thunder followed in a crack and a grumble. He waited for the sound to become distant, scanning the darkened room again for any scuff or scrape. There was nothing. No sounds that shouldn't be there. After a moment he turned back and stepped up to one of the windows. Long fingers resting on the wooden window frame, he leaned forward to look through the small square panels of glass.

Another flash of lightening turned the outside to daylight.

It lit up his part of the road, some trees, another building across the way. But aside from that, just the grayness of the rain filled his view. There was no sign of anything. And then...

Just blackness again.

Thrown back into darkness, Ichigo turned away from the window and covered the few steps to his door by memory. He checked that it was closed properly, and locked. It was.

He let out a long breath. He wasn't afraid of storms, but he felt unnaturally jittery. Perhaps he'd woken from another bad dream and just didn't realize it. Sure, it was normal to feel a little unnerved standing alone in the dark in a thunderstorm at gone midnight in a strange town so far off the beaten path that no one would ever hear you scream... But he had real world problems to be worried about. He certainly didn't have time to waste on monsters and ghosts.

Maybe he'd light another candle. A small sense of comfort. He'd had one every night since he'd been here, and there was nothing wrong with that. He stilled as it occurred to him. He'd had a candle every night and they were each large enough to last to morning. He wondered suddenly, why had it gone out tonight?

He turned towards his bed and felt his heart skitter. Lightening lit the room up again.

But there was nothing. Just his bed, a side table on either side, a small fireplace that hadn't been used in awhile, a dresser where he'd laid his clothes, and beside that, a slightly cloudy full length mirror.

Ichigo crossed the floor and sat on the bed. And then, on the whim of some long lost childhood instinct, he pulled his legs up quickly over the side. When he realized what he'd done, he tasked himself for it.

He waited for another flicker of lightening before he reached over and found one of the matches which had been left for him on his side table. He struck it and held it to the wick of the candle, using its light as a guide, pausing as he did.

The candle was burnt only half way down, its wick long and free of wax. No reason for it to have gone out.

He shrugged the thought away and held the match close. It caught quickly, bathing the room in a soft yellow light, bringing shadows into motion as it flickered.

Ichigo watched them dance eerily for a moment and frowned. Maybe he was better off without the candle.

He left it to burn anyway. He dragged the light cover back across his thighs and over his hips and fell back, his arm slung across his forehead. He needed to get some sleep. He'd be hitting the dusty trail again tomorrow. After breakfast. And after he'd done a few chores for the kind folks who'd been so generous to him. He'd done a couple of things yesterday to help out, but it just didn't seem enough for all the food and care he and Zangetsu had received.

But then he'd head right out. And after the days he'd lost, he had no idea if he'd be ahead or behind whoever might be after him. Bounty hunters, no doubt. How many, he had no idea. How high the price for his life, he didn't even want to know.

He closed his eyes. He'd rather sleep than think about that tonight.

It took a few long moments, but he soon started to drift.

A sudden harsh knock at the door had him ramrod straight and half way out of his bed before he even realized he'd moved.

He stumbled the first few steps, heart beginning to pound in his chest as his body caught up with his senses and the surge of adrenaline began to kick in. Unused and making him shaky but more alert than he'd been a moment ago.

He rounded his bed, crossed the short space and unlocked the door. He didn't hesitate because at this time of the night, it must be important. Besides, monsters and wild animals didn't knock. It was probably Urahara. He turned the knob and pulled the door open, dark eyes set in a concerned scowl.

"What's wrong?"

The rain hit in wet waves against the wooden floor just inside the doorway, cool on his feet.

Because there was no one there to break it's path.

Just darkness and rain.

"Hello?" Ichigo shot his head out the door, looking this way then that to see if he could glimpse whoever had knocked on his door, but he pulled back quickly. It was coming down hard and there wasn't anything to see in the dark. Whoever it was, was gone.

He shut the door hard and turned the lock, nerves jangled but more angered about the stupidity of the whole thing. Who would knock on his door just to run away? And get him all wet in the process. The kids around town seemed well behaved, but who could say they didn't turn into little demons from hell after midnight and sneak out of their house to play pranks on unsuspecting visitors like Ichigo. Or it could have just been one of the locals after too many shots of bourbon. He hoped that wasn't the case. People could get belligerent when they were drunk. And he certainly didn't need any more problems with people.

He turned from the door, eyes closed and whipping his fingers back and forth through his hair to dry it out, and...

...And, oh my god, he was naked. He'd answered the door without a stitch of clothing on.

He opened his eyes at the realization. And froze. His heart may have even stopped working for a moment too.

There was man.

Standing in his room.

Beside his bed.

Every muscle he had stiffened, throat tightening to a pinhole, Ichigo quashing the instinct to scream. It all bubbled back out in the next instant, in a choked gasp and a shaky curse.

"J-Jesus!" He stumbled back a step, throwing one arm across his chest, the other landing against the wall, feeling like his heart was suddenly trying to escape through his ribs. He stayed like that, panting, as he looked sideways at the man.

"How did you...? Where...? There wasn't..." He finally straightened, the surge of shock and the complete irrationality of it all making him suddenly angry. And he only really wanted to know one thing anyway. He growled.

"How the hell did you get in?"

The man hadn't moved. Not a twitch. But when Ichigo demanded it of him, he tilted his head and answered simply.

"Through the door."

His voice rolled, as deep and dark as the night around them. It washed over Ichigo like a chill and a wave before his senses jarred him back together. He gaped at the man, unmoving, still using the wall for support, for reassurance. What if this person was after him? He was large. Taller than Ichigo. He could use the wall as leverage if he needed it.

His free hand curled into a fist, body tightening, hunching him forwards slightly as he stood his ground.

"No, you didn't. There's no way. Don't bullshit me."

"You were half asleep." Ichigo stiffened further, offended that he was being mocked and intruded upon. He straightened in defence.

"I was not. I was wide awake!" He snapped at the man with conviction. "Don't try to tell me what I was or wasn't!" But doubt followed, immediate. He blinked and shook his head. Was he? Had he been so fresh from sleep that he'd lost a moment in time? As the thought struck him, he felt almost clouded, not quite able to think clearly.

"Are you sure you're awake now?" Ichigo eyes snapped back to the intruder. Even though his mouth moved with the words, the stranger's smooth voice, ethereal and deep, seemed to bleed out of the darkness around him.

"What?" Ichigo's face fell into a deep frown. "Yes? Of course I..." He grunted to himself, confused for a moment. Then he glared at the intruder with angry amber eyes. He didn't like mind games. And his sense of humour was less than agreeable at the moment.

"What the hell are you doing in my cabin?" he growled.

The man considered him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and an unnatural stillness about him that made Ichigo shiver slightly, even though the room was warm. He realized then, again, that he was without clothes, and the man's... consideration... had not kept itself to his face.

He finally let go of the wall, folding his arms. For all the good it did. It was merely a defensive gesture. It was unfortunate that the candle was at the man's hip, almost behind him, while Ichigo was lit from the front. He felt himself heat, and not just in his cheeks. A tiny XXX of XXX reminded him of needs he'd neglected for far too long, of sensations he'd once felt on a night just like this. He grunted silently, wondering why in hell his thoughts had turned so suddenly when he could be in real danger.

"I couldn't stay away."

It was just a whisper to Ichigo's ears. A vague notion inside his head, a distant sound just outside his hearing. Had he thought it? He scowled all the harder at the intruder, sure he must have been the source of the unnerving commentary. Where else would it have come from?

"What?" he snapped. Ichigo was entirely tense. He was just now taking in the man in front of him, as much as he could in the shadows. His folded arms, he knew, were a sad attempt at intimidation in light of his current position, especially when pitted against the larger, lithe form in front of him, with its muscular bulk and obvious strength. Perhaps the shadows that curved around his form played tricks, turning him more animal than man, something that hunted with cold grace in the night, even nights like this.

Especially.

The man finally moved, but it was only to hold out his hand.

"You dropped these."

Ichigo made a sound in his throat, the words, almost purred, making him feel like the stranger could hear his thoughts. The idea embarrassed him, though vaguely.

"I... What?" Ichigo looked at his outstretched palm, but felt himself pulled back to the stranger's eyes, a hollow darkness in the shadows. Empty of light.

"You fell off your horse." He spoke slowly, smoothly. "And you dropped these."

Ichigo squinted, pieces of the puzzle that was this stranger's voice slowly floating together as if trapped in a thick liquid.

"I fell off... my... horse..."

"Yes. Before dusk." He nodded slowly. Moving his palm further down so it caught in the candle light where something glinted. He looked to it, then back to Ichigo. "You were riding your horse into the village. Zangetsu. He bucked you off."

Ichigo eyed the man, giving him the same critical treatment he had just gotten, from head to shadowed toe, realizing as he did, between the brief catches of candlelight on the side of his face that weren't bathed in darkness, that he was well built, young, with hair that spiked and clawed, and a strong jaw. Quite possibly handsome, if Ichigo could get a real look at him.

There was something else about him too. It niggled for a moment. Then he realized.

"You're not wet."

There was no water on his skin that Ichigo could see. His shirt appeared crisp and dry. His hair wasn't sagging at all. Even by candlelight, he could see it. That was all okay, but... his pants were dry too, down to the bottoms. They should be soaked in this storm.

"I didn't have far to come." It was a good enough answer, he supposed. He was just being hyper alert, mistrustful, ridiculous. What - did he think the man had been hiding in his fireplace all this time? Impossible.

"But you did."

The small comment snapped at Ichigo's attention. He hadn't explained to anyone... His pulse quickened, fears of being captured renewed at the words.

"Who the hell are you?" he hissed.

The man only tilted his head forward, to the side, then the other, slowly, taking him in at angles, almost hypnotic. Ichigo felt anxious before, but that strange movement... Now he felt hunted.

"You think I'm a bounty hunter." Ichigo grunted in return, hands curled into fists, stomach in knots. "I'm not, though." The man nodded slightly. "And my interest isn't in seeing you captured." Ichigo eyed him critically, waiting for the punch line.

"And I should believe you..." It wasn't until after the words had sunk in, that Ichigo felt his stomach do a nervous flip. He had an interest in something, though.

"You should. I'm just a resident here. You can call me, Grimmjow."

"Okaay. Well then, Grimmjow... you have a home to go to, don't you."

"Heh. It's all my home." He smirked as he answered, but it wasn't his lips that did it. It was in his eyes. The first glimmer of life in them at all. "And I had something I wanted to return to you."

Ichigo felt his own lip curl, his sense of urgency calming under the light of the stranger's claims, and he couldn't help but snort at the man. At Grimmjow.

"You could have waited until tomorrow."

"I didn't want to miss you." Ichigo felt himself shudder inside. This stranger felt it so important to see him that he'd barged in now? He noted, with unease, that the stranger still hadn't taken his eyes off of him. Not once. In fact, not once, Ichigo realized, had he even seen him blink.

"You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you." Ichigo felt his own jaw tightening. His own eyes darkening as he anticipated the line of questioning straying into territory he'd rather keep to himself.

"That's the plan," he said stiffly.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from here."

The stranger's reply was silence. Long enough that Ichigo knew the other was waiting for more than that.

"I don't really know," he half mumbled, eyes still locked on the man.

"We're a long way from anywhere."

"Then I guess I have a long way to go."

Grimmjow moved again, right arm sweeping down towards the side table, fingers running across its surface. Lightening flashed in a flicker as he did. Then again as he took a slow step forward... then two... It didn't look like the man had moved at all. He just appeared a little bit closer in between each beat of light.

Ichigo's insides did an unhappy turn at the sight, something unnatural and wrong. Was it a trick of the light, or.. ? He kept his distance, his own movements slow, wary, keeping him in line with the much larger male. And closer to the door. Even though his questions were innocent enough, nothing truly threatening about them, he exuded something entirely too unpredictable for Ichigo's comfort. He was here for a reason. Ichigo just didn't know what.

There was also, of course, the fact that Ichigo was, and had been since their encounter began, completely naked.

Grimmjow raised his hand, and something caught in the candle light. He had picked up one of the small round metal discs that Ichigo had placed on his bedside table earlier. The same things Grimmjow said he had brought to him to return. Though, for all Ichigo knew, he could have just picked them up from the table.

"What are they?" he rumbled, holding his hand up to his own face and flipping the coin smoothly back and forth between the backs of curled fingers as if it were a skill he'd been practising for years.

Ichigo forgot his anger for a moment, though he still clung to his unease. He looked at the stranger like he'd lost his marbles, then remembered where they both were. This isolated community. It didn't seem to be in contact much with the outside world. They lived off the land. They were skilled in trades. They seemed to have just about everything they needed. He thought about it, and realized that even while in the local restaurant, he hadn't seen any currency since he'd been here.

He wondered, was anyone anywhere even aware of its existence?

"It's money." Grimmjow caught the coin as it became upright and studied it for a second, his focus finally turning past it and back onto Ichigo.

"Doesn't look like any money I've seen."

"Well, it's pretty current. What? Don't you use money here? What do you do, barter?"

"No." Grimmjow turned and gently placed the coin back on the table with the others. He turned back. "We're independent. But, yeah. You could say... we barter."

He grinned. And it was sheet ice in Ichigo's veins.

Not just from the way the man's eyes took on an unhealthy insane look when he did that, and not just because of the rows of teeth - notably the two enlarged canine type teeth – that flashed when he did that, but because Ichigo found that insanity oddly exhilarating. He felt like he'd seen it before, or felt it before, or .. just something about this man, Grimmjow, felt suddenly familiar, and dangerous, and electric. Like an old memory resurfacing.

Ichigo swallowed hard against his body's reactions. He needed this man to leave. Things were starting to heat up in ways that were embarrassing. Even though they shouldn't be. Especially because they shouldn't be.

He sucked it all back, and pushed it all down, throwing a hand into the air, wrist waving the stranger - because he was a stranger - onward and out of his private space. His head dropped forward as he motioned and tried as casually as he could to dismiss this Grimmjow.

"Look, it was really nice of you to barge in on me, in a rainstorm, in the middle of the night, while I was sleeping, to return my stuff... but you really need to ..." He looked up.

"...go?..."

Empty space.

"What the...?"

Ichigo spun around.

"Hello?..."

He turned again a few more times, even bending over to glance at the floor beside the bed. Then he just stood there. Confused as shit. This was ridiculous. His cabin was a single room, and that room was no more than twenty square feet. There was nothing to hide in or under. Even the bed, he remembered, was low to the ground. There was no room for a man under it.

Grimmjow had vanished just as quickly and impossibly as he'd appeared.

He made a beeline for the door, hand grasping the latch, shaking it, checking that it was closed. And about to lock it.

It already was.

He felt himself sag. What in the fuck was that?

Was there some sort of secret entrance to this cabin that Ichigo wasn't aware of? It made sense that there could be, that they would put him, an injured stranger on the lamb, in a building with extra security precautions so they could keep a close eye on him.

But really? Send a guy into his room in the middle of the night under the pretence that he'd dropped some money? Wake him from a deep sleep, just to ask him... Ichigo's hand rubbed at the back of his head, the other going to his waist.

And what had he asked him?

Where he was going.

Ichigo hadn't given an answer, nothing definite. It was the truth, sort of. He didn't know where he was headed exactly. He just knew there were cities in that direction, if he travelled far enough. He would blend in. He would have to. Assume a different identity. (Cut his hair stupidly short being first on that list. Nothing like a pile of orange spikes to announce yourself to the world. His wanted poster may be in black and white, but it didn't take much imagination to fill in the coloured blanks.)

And that's all the man had really asked of him. Other than that... he'd just stared. And yeah, Ichigo had stood there being stared at the whole time, completely exposed, and having a conversation with a large and intimidating prowler in the half darkness of his bedroom. By candlelight. Not the romance Ichigo had envisioned for himself in the future, if he even had one.

Ichigo sagged a little, arm still raised and now squeezing at the back of his neck as he attempted to relax himself.

He fell on the bed on his ass, too tired to think it over any more. Tired and... (turned on). His XXX was XXX, and he was only now taking full notice of it, though it had been there to some degree for longer than he felt was right.

It was a feeling he had only had a few times since he'd left home. Not at all the past few days. His body couldn't afford it. But now, nursed back to full health and feeling almost – aside from his very strange midnight visitor – safe, his libido had taken a moment to offer him a chance at something... pleasurable.

He turned and fell onto his back.

Maybe it was just the rush of it all, being cornered in the middle of the night, and then inexplicably alone again... but Ichigo felt a surge of need. And he knew he wasn't going to fall asleep easily after whatever that was.

If he didn't want to spent the rest of the night staring into a dark, sloped ceiling, then this was his best bet towards getting some sleep.

He closed his eyes, better to imagine a XXX, than just the short, XXX. The figure that came straight to mind was a shock. He'd expected his old partner, his only partner. But no. That stranger, Grimmjow, was looking down at him, XXX.

Grimmjow hovering over him as he XXX.

Ichigo opened his eyes, the image too stark for something that he'd conjured up in his mind.

When he did, the image was still there.

Shit.

Ichigo tensed, his own XXX as his brain wound to a stop.

He knew he wasn't real. That he wasn't really there, on top of him, that mildly deranged look of hunger - of XXX appetite - studying his face intently.

Ichigo closed his eyes again, using his other senses to come to a conclusion. He couldn't feel the man's weight on the bed. It should have moved under Grimmjow's weight. It hadn't, though.

The thought relaxed him.

He had to have fallen asleep. Or perhaps, perhaps he'd never really woken up in the first place. It had seemed so real but... He opened his eyes slightly, almost afraid that the dream image would still be there, almost more afraid that he'd be gone.

And then it spoke. Grimmjow spoke. Quietly. A gentle growl. But the eyes, his eyes, cold and blackened... something ravenous swarmed behind them, held at bay by the man, for Ichigo's sake perhaps...

"I couldn't stay away." Grimmjow's image leaned forward as Ichigo's eyes flew open. Warm lips, warmer breath, skimmed across Ichigo's mouth, tongue dipping against his lower lip. It all mounted into a XXX kiss and Ichigo couldn't help the XXX sound that XXX from his throat and curled between them.

"I can't wait any more." Ichigo opened his mouth to catch his breath, that rumbling voice and that fire-starting kiss bringing XXX in an instant.

"Turn over."

Ichigo didn't question it. Apparently this very lucid dream didn't involve foreplay. And that was exactly the way Ichigo wanted it. He sure as hell didn't need it. He just needed...

(DELETED SCENE)

He felt the weight lift away too, dissipate, leaving him politely to the deep sleep that waited.

He was out in moments.

X X X

The rain beat down in waves against his curved shoulders, against his back, and against his arms. His hair lay limp, wet from the downpour, rivulets running down his face. His body was soaked to the skin.

But he didn't notice it at all.

He couldn't. He wasn't really there.

He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, feet planted and holding him in place where he perched high on the deeply sloped roof of the building on the other side of the road.

Another flash of lightening lit the darkness before thunder rocked the air around him.

He didn't move.

Eyes so blown and black that they showed no emotion at all - soulless - stared at the window of the cabin below, across the street.

Through it.

That boy. He lit up the room, his body like sunlight inside it. He moved his XXX, all of his XXX there, brightly XXX.

Grimmjow could hear his breaths, rushed and reckless, hear his heart beating wildly, feel XXX. And when the boy... when Ichigo XXX... it sent Grimmjow XXX.

Water ran down the tiles of the roof in waves, smoothing it back over in smooth sheets of rain.

Nothing there to stop it.