…

…

He hadn't seen that much blood before in his life.

It flew around as punches were thrown, small drops of scarlet that stained the ground, the walls in the alley and his face. But more importantly his clothes. His fucking clothes. He had just bought them, god fucking damn it, and look at them now! Smudges and tears everywhere. It was his seventh pair already, god damn him!

"Ya damn oni! How dare ya do that to my clothes? Again!" He spat, both saliva and blood flying in between his teeth. He looked over to the young man and a shiver pierced his spine.

He was an oni alright; bright messy hair pointing almost everywhere, rolled up sleeves revealing small scars at his forearms, a terrifying scowl and eyes that burned holes through his skull. Of course, there was the fact that he was practically drenched in his comrades/friends/underlings' blood and it wasn't improving his own situation at all.

Yokochin gulped and took a step back.

"Where the hell you think you are going?" the voice stopped him, literally rooting him to the ground. Smooth and low, the voice was way too close for his comfort. Hesitantly he looked up only to meet two raging brown eyes, "I'm not done with you yet."

Yokochin gulped again, "M-Mah… Ichigo-sama… T-There's no need for any more v-violence… A-After all, this had been g-going for a m-month…" the gang boss jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked again at the young Yakuza heir, eyes blazing as he scowled down at him.

"Nah, Yokochin." Said man gulped at the sudden tone, "How about you shut the fuck up and let me do what the fuck I want. After all," Ichigo's fist clenched on the white of his shirt and yanked him forward, the tall adult leaning down to meet the burning eyes of the young man, a cruel smile following up next,

"Ya still owe me."

And blood painted the floor.

…

…

The touches lingered on her skin. Pale flesh tingling as his fingers –calloused and rough hands– went up her back. She arched, pushing her naked breasts to his chest. Her breath hitched as his hands moved again and her head rolled back. His lips fell to her neck, trailing kisses –scorching and heated– down to her collarbone. He bit, careful not to break her skin, but enough to leave a bruise. She breathed in as his tongue came out; tracing one of his many bruises and then his mouth came down and sucked.

She felt herself tremble when his hands gripped her thighs harder, pale skin bruising underneath her black skirt. Her hands shook as he balked, the obvious bulge on his pants rubbing on her wet panties. She gripped his shirt tighter as he did it again… and again… and again… A moan was ripped from her throat but he silenced it with a kiss. His mouth clamped over hers and sucked her lips, his tongue coming out and quickly overpowered hers in seconds.

He took control, like always. He always liked control.

And she loved it when he took control.

He took a step bringing their bodies closer; the closeness made it almost impossible to move. One finger hooked on the back of her underwear and pushed it down, another following –trailing his path, lighting fire on her skin. He only paused above her clit and with a small thrust it was in, easily setting a rhythm. She followed his pattern, small movements and later on created her own, compatible rhythm. She met his finger half-way. Her puffs and moans swallowed by his kisses. Soon one became two and two became three. The pace had increased and she followed his lead.

Then everything stopped. One second; he was out and she had become cold. Her inner walls tingled, missing the contact –his touch. He broke from her lips, her dazed mind trying to understand the why. She opened her eyes and through the hazy steel orbs she saw it.

Hunger; raw, alive and pulsing behind his brown orbs. A fire that flickered inside them, scorching and hot and daring her to reach out, to come closer. To get burned…

So she did. And in that second, in that moment something sparked. He came up thrusting and she was full. She straighten up, her back arching and her legs tightening around his waist. She gasped when he continued the rhythm he had set, going faster, harder… deeper.

With each thrust her mind broke, her nails biting into his skin and going down his forearms leaving red paths on its wake. She heard his hiss and as if on punishment he stopped. She tried to move, roll her hips to get him to continue. But he stopped her gripping with one hand her hip, pausing her from doing anything more. She watched him scowl as his other hand took her wrists and shoved them above her head. Surprised she looked up at him, towering her with his height. She huffed and panted and he was only watching her. Brown eyes lowered and thick lashes hiding the full scale of his powerful eyes. She licked her lips, his eyes following it suit. She took a breath and bit in her lower lip and went to say something but he cut her off.

A thrust.

He drove up, his hips slapping on her skin as his erection ripped its way in. She cried out, her eyes forced close before he slid half way out and drove back in. It almost broke her. He had aimed up and he had easily found that spot –her spot. That spot that made her want more. Her walls quivered as he begun again, her legs starting to hurt from the effort. She wanted him closer, she wanted more of him because this wasn't close enough. His thrusts became erratic, sharp and almost painful but she didn't care. He kept hitting that spot over and over and over, so many times. It was driving her crazy, because she was so close. She could feel it dangling on the tip of her tongue.

"Say my name." she did, "Again." She did it, "Again." She did.

He slid back out again and drove back in, a powerful thrust that broke a dam inside her.

"Louder."

…

Orihime gasped as she rocketed from the bed. Her chest heaving and her eyes wide as she gripped her sheets around her. Her cheeks flamed and eyes wild, she looked around her room, adjusting to the darkness. Goosebumps grew on her skin and she felt her insides twist.

"Orihime?" a groggy voice said from besides her but she ignored it. She was too preoccupied calming her racing heart. The muscle jumped beats like crazy and her belly thrashed again, "Orihime? Hey, are you–"

Tatsuki's touch was like a jump gun. Orihime bolted from the bed and barged into the small bathroom. The sound of retching echoed in the dark.

"Whoa!" Tatsuki was by her best friend's side in a second. She grabbed her long copper hair and pulled it away, helping as much as she could, "What the hell…" Orihime gasped for air before she coughed more of their dinner.

"Shit." Tatsuki cursed and helped Orihime stand up as she grabbed a near-by towel, "Are you okay? What happened?" she helped her best friend to the basin to wash her face and mouth.

"I-I don't know." She heard her mumble through the towel, "It was s-sudden…" Tatsuki saw Orihime take a breath, looking down at her hands. Then she raised her face and shot her a tired smile, "Must have been the pizza. It did smell funny."

Tatsuki scowled, "It had wasabi in it of course it smelled funny." She placed her hand on her friend's shoulder, "Are you sure you are alright? Because you love wasabi and…" Tatsuki paused at Orihime's look. Her amber eyes widening a bit, "Orihime, please tell me you're–"

Orihime blinked, "Eh? What?" then she flushed bright red, "No, Tatsuki-chan. W-What are you… Of course not!" the red haired stuttered, "I-I had my p-period last week! I c-couldn't–"

"Orihime!" she stopped her flailing friend, "It's okay, I know. I just, you know… wanted to cover all the possibilities, that's all." She smiled and Orihime shot her a tired grin, "Are you sure you are okay?"

Orihime nodded at her best friend and stifled a yawn, "Yes, Tatsuki-chan. It was probably the pizza…" she walked back out, half minding where she stepped and slumped back on the bed, "…perhaps the flu…" and quickly dozed off.

Tatsuki's eyes followed her moves, narrowing as the woman she knew since middle school was fast asleep, "Yeah…" she mumbled, "Probably the flu."

…

…

She loved the quiet.

The natural sounds of the slowly flowing waters, the sound of the wind rippling through the wind chimes, how the bamboo hit the stone every now and then, and how the koi broke the surface of the pond, or how the wood creaked as maids walked around the house. All these sounds always calmed her whenever she felt distort. But they were soon swallowed when the twins were brought home.

Soft pitter-patters sounded all over the house, the soft giggles and the high pitched squeals making her everyday tunes. No, it wasn't that she didn't love them. She loved her children, her small balls of sunshine were her whole world, but she appreciated her dear silence as well.

Slowly Kurosaki Masaki raised the teacup to her lips, she blew softly before taking a sip. It was a rare thing among their household as well. With everything that was going on lately, it was very hard to find some peace and quiet. But of course, she wouldn't be Kurosaki Masaki if she didn't. So, as Isshin was occupied with another pack of paperwork (she wasn't that cruel, she did help her husband, but of course she wouldn't allow him have it as an everyday luxury) and her twin daughters, Karin and Yuzu, at the kindergarten, she has found her peace.

But even then, her mind was racing. Her current thought? Ichigo. Her eldest child, her very first miracle that has been troubling her thoughts since forever it seemed. Ever since her son has called her to inform her that he was coming home, only half a year ago. But of course the problem hadn't started there. It had been way back in the past, surrounding a certain red haired and her brother. She had talked to Isshin, even her own psychologist, they all said the same; kids will be kids.

Masaki frowned; how was beating each other up could explain that? She couldn't even think what would have happened if they had been a minute late. Masaki closed her eyes as a headache started; how could her cute, gentle, overprotective and always smiling son turn to a raging, screaming and animalist boy, she had no clue. Of course, Sora-kun hadn't been any less. The usual calm and reserved boy had thrown decorum out of the window and pounded like a thug on her son. And still the conditions of their fight weren't known by any adult. No boy dared to whisper of why the two had suddenly gone for each other's throats.

Of course, she wasn't any fool. Being a woman had its perks, after all. She had noticed how close her son was with Ran-chan's daughter. Her dear cousin had smiled and kidded of an engagement happening soon. But then it happened and Ichigo withdrew from everything and everyone, stopped smiling, and stopped talking like a child anymore. He focused on his studies and his duties as Isshin's heir and forgot being a child all together. Then the twins came, lighting some of his moods but even the two squealing bundles weren't enough to mend him.

But now. Now her son was different. He had come from college, a whole different air surrounding him. He had actually smiled. Masaki had been so shocked she had almost dropped her cup. And that had been the beginning of everything for Masaki.

"Saki-chi!" Masaki blinked and looked up and smiled at the approaching woman.

"Ran-chan! Good morning." She said at her cousin, who gave her a grin and knelt beside her. Swatting away the maid that came along, she shot Masaki another blinding grin as she swept her long hair back.

"Alone today? Where's the rest of the family?" she said as Masaki poured her a cup of tea.

"Well the girls are at the kindergarten, Ichigo left this morning bright and early and Isshin is quite busy with paperwork." She glanced at Rangiku, "Honestly, he was whining all day about how much contracts he had to sign." She took another sip from her cup, "95% of his day had been curses he threw your husband."

Rangiku glared at her tea, "Ah, yes, my dear husband." Masaki quirked a brow, "How I want to wring his neck." She muttered darkly, startling a maid that passed by.

Masaki chuckled, "What did he do now?"

"Besides meddling with our plans and setting my daughter up with the most creepy candidate and bothersome clan? Why, I can't imagine what else he could have done." Rangiku said sarcastically as she drunk some of her tea, "Honestly, that man. He could have consulted me first. It's my daughter's future, after all."

"Yours, Rangiku, yours. He's still her father, you know." Masaki said calmly and Rangiku clenched her jaw.

"He's–… She's–..." Rangiku clicked her tongue, "He should have asked me first. That is all." She wriggled her nose, "Okay, not that I blame you for your taste buds but this tea is going to kill me. Where is that maid, I want some sake."

"Not at this time of hour, Ran-chan. You are going to get wasted." The older woman frowned at her cousin who just shrugged.

"I'd prefer to get wasted as we happen to have your amazing in-laws over for dinner." She said and clicked her tongue, "Kami, I hate that woman. If it was in my hands I would have already–"

"Ran." Masaki's voice silenced her and she looked over her golden haired cousin to see a scowl on her face, "This is not the time."

"No. This is the perfect time, Masaki." Rangiku leaned forward, her steely gaze meeting her cousin's blank stare, "The plan is already in motion, you yourself made sure of that."

Masaki narrowed her eyes, "The plan was a failure, Ran. He was late."

Her cousin smirked, "Do you have so little faith in him, Saki-chi?"

Masaki pondered a bit, "I believe he just needs some time to grow." Masaki took another sip from her tea, a mischievous glint in her spiced eyes. Rangiku raised her brow, "All seeds need their time to grow after all."

Rangiku huffed, "Let's just hope he won't take his god damn time to do anything."

"Patience is a virtue, Ran."

"Well it's not one of mine, that's for sure." She hissed back at her cousin, "I swear if he won't do anything in the next twenty-four hours, the Kurosaki clan will be a leader short."

Masaki smiled good-naturally, "Relax, Ran-chan. He'll be doing his move shortly."

Rangiku snorted, folding her arms below her breasts, "He better be. I'm biding my life on the line here for his sorry little ass." She scowled at Masaki's frown, "Don't look at me like that. If he does nothing, we both are going to be in big trouble."

Masaki breathed from her nose as she finished her tea, "They're not going to find out, Ran-chan. They won't."

Rangiku sighed as she motioned for a maid to come over, "I'm really counting on that, Saki-chi."

…

…

"You either do nothing and regret it for the rest of your life, or you grab her and go."

…

…

I did say Masaki had a big part on it, didn't I? Hope you liked it. And I apologize for the lateness! It has been rough lately, but I managed to update this! Some of you PMed me with some ideas and I have to say that you are some crazy people, but I love you lot all together! Plus, some theories had been quite cool and quite true. Not gonna say which, that's a mystery!

On some other great stuff, I FINALLY HAVE A PC! So I can write freely and study for my make-up exams *sobs quietly* and I made a KHR (katekyo hitman reborn) collection, if you guys are being kind you could check it out (it's still on chapter one but I have three other chapters at the ready)! You and Me is up next on the Bleach update, soon I hope, I don't want to keep you guys waiting anymore! I'll also be updating two one-shots with some of my theories on canon manga, I'll hope you'll like them too!

That's about it, I think. Please review!

-Berry.