Changing of the Guard

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            Rukia and Renji were excited most of all by the news, but many other lieutenants – and various seated officers – were all joined to celebrate the revival of Kurosaki Ichigo.  “Kanpai!” many cheered and they thrust their cups together, laughing as the sake spilt above their heads.

            “Ha!  That Ichigo!  He must be formidable now that he’s finally out of the infirmary!” Ikkaku jeered, Yumichika concurring that Reio must be graceful and poised even when incapacitated.  Kiyone wasn’t in attendance – neither was her sister – but Sentomaru was, roaring over the tears in his eyes that victory would not have been obtainable without Captain Ukitake’s sacrifice.  Omaeda bragged that he himself was quite crucial as well, hyping up his role against BG9 whenever he could.  Momo tried to keep contained, but Renji encouraged her to let loose while Shuhei advised that they shouldn’t get too inebriated; Mashiro objected, slamming her co-lieutenant to the ground under her foot, pursing her lips and whining that she was the super star of the Quincy war.  Nanao fixed her glasses, saying stingily that she could not stay long now that she was assigned to the Captain Commander’s lieutenant.

            “It’s still Captain Kyoraku,” laughed Rangiku, who was a few paces into the night already before even hearing the news about Ichigo.  She laughed so raucously that her chest heaved like they would jump out at any moment.  Nanao rebuked her taunts, saying that her Captain took this new role quite seriously.  “I’m surprised he’s not here with us,” the other woman slurred, holding a hand up over her eyes as she drunkenly scanned the crowds.  “Where is he~?  Kyoraku~taicho~ where are you~♪”

            “You’re indecent!” snapped Nanao, grabbing the edges of the other lieutenant’s robes and pulling them together before there was a momentous fallout.  “Honestly!”

            All the cheers made her feel that she should take part with them, but Rukia was satisfied to watch as a wallflower, laughing at the antics of the men doing stupid stunts, uncaring of how they looked as they tried to handstand the longest or balance chopsticks on their tongues when they could hardly stand straight.  Nii-sama was told of Ichigo’s awakening, but was not the type to celebrate.  “Is that so?” he said coolly, and then walked off to the revered site of his parents’ graves.  “Hopefully he’ll learn to conduct himself properly for once.”  It was the sort of thing he’d say that conveyed relief; Rukia was touched by his stoic concern.

            But she was still contemplating the news that followed.  Captain Kyoraku had said that Ichigo was awake, and that was enough for Renji to hear and take to the pathways to impart the news.  There was more, and though it did not seem fully ominous, it made her think.

            “There’ll be some changes in Squad Zero” was most of what he said, but as an aside, possibly to himself, he muttered, “I wonder who’ll go up.”

            “Oi, Kuchiki♥  Come over here~”

            She looked and saw Rangiku flagging her over with one hand and holding the scruff of Nanao’s shihakusho with the other.  “We gotta toast together!” the drunk lieutenant said, holding up her mug, signaling for Rukia to get one herself.  “As the ladies who support Ichigo, right?!”

            Rukia thought of Ichigo’s face, or rather, his back.  Him ahead of her, blocking flames meant to consume her solely to absolve her sins.  He turned to her and smiled reassuringly over his shoulder.

            “Rukia!” shouted Renji loudly over the noise, and she saw him waving his arms frantically, his face red from alcohol consumption, a long smile on his face as he held out his chopsticks.  “I won~”

            Smiling at him, and then at Rangiku, Rukia acquired a cup for herself, awkwardly raising it to meet Rangiku’s.  “Right!”

            Not all of Seireitei was full of merriment.  Never mind the Squads that were still dealing with tragic loss, Kyoraku sat alone in the scorched remains of the previous Captain Commander’s barracks.  He was at the desk, an untouched jug of fine sake at his side.  He had even already poured himself a saucer to celebrate Ichigo’s health.  Yet, he couldn’t pick it up.  It was perhaps too heavy.

            And coming in from the night, a Hell butterfly, landing on his idle hand and relaying the message from above.

            “My, my,” he sighed as the butterfly left, and dropped his hands, staring at his drink.  “It’ll be busy tomorrow.”  He picked up the drink and tossed the liquid over the balcony.

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            “Sorry, Kirio.  It-It just surprised me.”  He flushed, wishing he could have controlled such an involuntary reaction, but he was in such a vulnerable state of mind at the moment.  Her expanding like this, the perfect frame now inflated like a balloon.

            “Think nothing of it,” she laughed and rolled her hair up in a bun.  “I suppose I do look very different when my hair is down, don’t you think?  There.  That should make it easier for you.”

            Ichigo wasn’t sure if he should say that her hair was the immediate issue when they were both standing across from each other naked; him in his loose cloak and her in only her socks.  She lagged with her modesty as she fixed her hair, her breasts – once high-seated – now dragged over her bloated, hanging stomach.  Her thighs, wider now; probably a lot harder to fit in between them, but Ichigo tried to keep his penis docile now that it had finally given him respite.

            “Oh, lookie here, Ichigo-chan,” she sang, separating her legs, lifting a heavy foot onto the chair and showing a web of his excess semen oozing out of her, matting her pubic hair.  The gash did not gape as Inoue’s had, likely because of the increased density of her body, sealing her exit by her own mass.  Still, he felt a twinge of excitement to see his labors oozing out of her in gooey strands.  “All of that with Orihime-chan, yet you were still pent up!  I must schedule you to my kitchen frequently!”  She lowered her leg and held her hips, arms bowing out across her bulk.  She nodded, murmuring as she did.  “Yes, if you rely solely on Orihime-chan, she’ll be worn out by midday!  So as frequent as you are hungry, come see me before each meal!”

            “Before each…?”  Ichigo yelled, hands coming up as if begging for reason.  “You can’t expect me to show up for… that!  At every meal?”

            “Mhm!  That’s right!  Until we get you better accustomed, of course!  Oh my!”  She touched her cheek, giggling to herself.  “I’ll need to prepare myself to keep pace with Reio!”  She mused on how it felt like she was young again.

            “Hold on a second!  You can’t think that I want that all the time, all day!”

            “It’s about needs, not wants, Ichigo-chan,” she informed with a finger wagging.  “Until you’re in better control and have a suitable guard, you must listen to your body and act on it.”

            Ichigo sighed, agitated, ruffling his hair and saying to himself that this all made him look like some deviant.

            “No one’s accusing you of that,” Kirio consoled him, and she sounded truthful.  “And if it troubles you, know that I greatly enjoyed myself!”  She held a hand under her plump chin, laughing boisterously as Ichigo fumed with embarrassment.

            “Jeez!”  He pulled at his robes, scanning the ground briefly for his bottoms.  Everything got kicked around when they were frenzied at the height of their passion.  “Why does everyone at Reiokyu have to act like a weirdo?  Hm?  Kirio”—He pointed to the table, where her attire still lay—“aren’t you going to dress?”

            Kirio puffed up, her bold curves jostling a little.  “A bath first,” she proclaimed wisely and pointed at him.  “You should make a habit of it, Ichigo-chan.  The ladies appreciate a clean man.”

            Ducking his head a little, his lips slanted.  Of course, he’d thought of it but…  Really, he had just come out for a snack!  He wasn’t expecting any of this!

            “Did you not know?” asked Kirio with genuine surprise, her smile slipping in her astonishment.  “There’s a bathroom within your bedchamber!  Ah, that man,” she sighed, referring to Osho.  “He didn’t tell you.  Hmph!  Tenjiro is always complaining about him using the baths too long.”

            Confused, but Ichigo was glad to know that there were facilities in his room; Inoue would likely be glad too, as she spoke rather freely about her hygienic regiment when in casual conversation.  Nothing detailed, though Ichigo had been known to turn a light shade of pink to the mere reference of her being undressed before.

            “Well, I suppose I could get you a little cleaner now on your way back.”

            Ichigo was pulled from his thoughts when he felt a pudgy hand address his cum-slick cock.  Kirio’s thick fingers closed and gave him a baiting stroke.

            “Just give me a moment,” and she was stooping on her knees, heavy form poised to let him enter her mouth for a good oral scrubbing.

            “Hey, hold on!” stammered Ichigo, thinking it too soon to do something like that, afraid what she might stir in him.  It’d be a miracle to persist after so many orgasms – when maybe two was his humanly limit before becoming Reio – yet he felt the impending twitch.

            “It’s no trouble at all!  And now~♪  Thanks for the meal~”

            “Yo, Kirio!  How ‘bout some manju?!  I’m stuck with that brat!  Each turn in the Blood Pond Hell, she gets explosive!”  The Hot Spring Demon raised the curtain with his arm, ducking his pompadour head through.  “She never settles down, but she’ll be ready by morn…hm?”

            There was a gust of wind that zipped by him, and inside Kirio’s reverent kitchen… was nothing but a roaring stove and ovens.  He looked left and then right, at the clear table.  “Huh?”  He clicked his toothpick and looked behind him for some trace of the Grain King.  “Could’ve sworn she was here…”

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            “Much better!”  Candice normally didn’t smile unless someone was getting hurt, but this was good!  A mirror!  A mirror in front of her again!  She preened, checking her renewed features.  Not a scar or stitch in sight.  Beauty restored!  She couldn’t stand those marred features, still in the lapse of trauma to come up with an efficient way to turn the markings of madness into a fashion statement.  And free of the proximity alerts, she could come and go as she pleased from the dreary Bureau of Research and Development.

            She fixed her breasts, carefully combed her hair, posed for the full-bodied mirror to really appreciate her long, smooth legs and the hint of her ass beneath her short shorts.  She couldn’t take off her gloves because that would ruin the look of her ensemble, but it felt good running her hand up the back of her thighs and checking her cheek.

            “So I’ve just gotta seduce that Kurosaki bastard?!  Pah!  If it gets me free of that doctor…!”

            “What happened to your plans for revenge?” asked Meninas, who did not spend as much time in front of the mirror, always satisfied that her appeal was strong even in spite of ugly scars.  “You’ll sleep with him anyway?”

            Candice turned to her with a sharp grin, licking her lips wickedly.  “Who’s to say I can’t fuck him over in other ways?!  That bastard scientist just wants a sample!”  She swung back to the mirror, fists clenched and raised, zapping with malice.  “I can kill him after he’s done!”

            “You don’t pay attention, do you?”

            The two Quincies turned around to the Arrancar, who had abstained from taking the rejuvenating elixir.  A Hollow wears her scars, she’d said.  She had the restrictions removed so that she could make the ascent to Reiokyu, but had to stay close with these two.

            “You can’t kill Kurosaki Ichigo, now that he’s Reio.  It’ll devolve all Worlds into chaos.”  Cirucci ticked her hips to the right, scoffing as she tilted her head.  “I can’t believe I have to be dragged into this.”

            “So I can’t kill him, huh?  That’s fine!  I’ll just make him wish he was dead!”

            “You’re so loud for someone who lost to him so easily before,” said Meninas in unbiased fashion.  “It makes you look really pathetic.”

            “Be quiet, Meni!  You just want to go to be in a palace!  You don’t even care who you have to fuck!”

            But the taunt didn’t faze the taller woman.  “How dumb” was all she said, looking away from the electric blonde.

            “I have to put up with this until morning?”  Cirucci scoffed again and waited impatiently for dawn.

            The Arrancar was of no consequence.  Candice saw Hollows and Hueco Mundo as an entire waste of time when there was a force like the Sternritter.  There were beds – more like cots – stashed in this room; one of Mayuri’s bothersome excesses that housed pending experiments from time to time.  And on those cots were the effects that Candice had on her at the time of her ‘death’.

            “Did you go through them?” Candice had asked Mayuri, pink up to her ears when she spotted her heart-shaped parcel.

            “Why sully my hands with the things you carry around when I can find the juiciest details by picking through your brains?” was Mayuri’s cryptic response.

            Candice contemplated her parcel for a time, but couldn’t refrain any longer.  Nonchalantly, she strolled over, grabbing and equipping it to her belt.  “Gonna check if everything’s there,” she said to excuse herself.

            “Oh?”  Meninas watched her curiously.  “You’re going to insert your butt plug now?”

            Caught instantly, Candice wheeled on the other Quincy, roaring at her intrusiveness.

            Even if she wasn’t wrong.

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            A safe, secluded distance; Ichigo ended his dignity-saving shunpo, appearing from thin air in an empty offshoot of the main corridor.  So long as Lightning Tenjiro didn’t pursue if he sensed them, they should be safe.  Under his left arm, he carried Kirio – which would have been impressive even with two arms! – and his right held the bunching of their clothes.  There wasn’t any time for sorting.  If Tenjiro hadn’t been looking down upon entering, he might have just caught the flash of Ichigo collecting the evidence in his arm before evaporating.

            “Um, sorry, Kirio,” he said, setting her down carefully on hands and knees; she hadn’t any time to stand up when she had been encroaching on his cock.

            “Not at all,” she said boisterously, laughing as she raised to her full height.  “I must say, your instincts and reactions are certainly on another level!  It might have been difficult to explain what was going on in the kitchen if Tenjiro had seen us!”

            That was putting it mildly, but Ichigo was relieved that it was a dilemma that they didn’t have to worry about just yet.  It might be wise, though, considering how close they’d come, to put on their clothes.

            “Yes, very well,” Kirio consented, if only to make Ichigo more comfortable.  She pulled on her hakama, her robes, slipping her round limbs through sleeves and legs.  She fixed her tits and pulled the shihakusho taut.  She and Ichigo were dressed, and he looked relieved for it.  “It’s good to keep such excitement in your life!  Makes you hungry!”

            “Eh, right,” Ichigo agreed awkwardly, and then eyed the Grain King.  He decided to address her transformation.  “But… how did this happen?”  He tried not to make too crude of a gesture.  “I thought you needed to eat to get to this state.”

            “Well, remember, Ichigo-chan, I am credited to the craft of inserting souls into others, whether as Gikon or by feeding.”  Her finger went to him.  “You are Reio-sama, and that makes your very essence very dense and rich in reishi.  My body just stored it all when you inseminated me!  And as you saw, there was still so much left over!  Like I said: I’ll need to prepare more to satisfy you, Reio-sama!”

            “Will that… happen to Inoue?”

            “No, no!  She won’t get bigger unless you impregnate her!”

            Ichigo clenched his teeth, saying that that wasn’t a funny joke.

            “Orihime-chan, and every other woman doesn’t have a body like mine!  Mine is starved for reishi and reiatsu because I’m always making food from my own body.  You needn’t worry about other girls growing when with you, Ichigo-chan!”  Her heavy hand clapped his back, ushering him to the threshold and into the hallway.  “Now go, Ichigo-chan!  Go to sleep with Orihime-chan!  And I’ll be there to tend you in the morning!  Oh-ho-ho!”  She was sauntering off herself, heading in the opposite direction from him.

            He pursed his lips, thinking of how odd she was at times.  But, heaving a relaxing sigh, he made to head back to the room.  Hopefully Inoue wasn’t missing him, or – much worse – regretting what they had done.

            “Hopefully she’s not hungry, either…”

            He stopped mid-step, realizing he’d forgotten the whole reason he’d gotten out of bed.  Instantly, he pivoted and chased Kirio.  “Kirio!  What about a snack for Inoue?!”

            And it wouldn’t hurt to also ask about the bathroom…

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            “Ahahaha!  Kurosaki-kun, that tickles!”  Orihime lunged up from her dreams, breaking her rest as she hugged herself, enacting the dream where Kurosaki-kun was showing her how ticklish ramen noodles could be.  She laughed a little longer before realizing she was awake… and alone.

            And naked!

            Very naked!

            “Yah!”  Hastily, she grabbed the bedsheets and pulled them to her chest before glancing around the big room.  “Kurosaki-kun?”

            Maybe he was in one of the dark corners of the room.

            She was certain she had felt eyes on her.  Something…

            And it wasn’t Ichigo.  It was a menacing look, scanning her intimately.  She kept the blanket up even though it seemed evident that there was nobody there.  Cautiously, she stayed awake, and after a handful of minutes, she felt that she was alone.  The eyes were definitely gone.  But whose…?

            Well, she wasn’t one to dawdle long on one thought!  “It must’ve just been a dream!” she cheered and left it at that, ignoring or suppressing the instinctive warning in the back of her head.  Forefront was recent events.  They had seemed like a dream, but the feeling of her body and where she was…!

            She blushed and held the blanket up to her nose.  It… smells like him.  She smelled like him too, remembering his body pressing down on her, his breath in her ear, his hands cupping the bouncy parts of her as he… as he…!

            “Ah!”  She gave an abrupt and vicious jolt, her hands dropping the covers to rush to her crotch.  It was a stab of hot pleasure to her core just remembering it.  And she was now very conscious that his essence was drying on the insides of her thighs, while inside her the warmth was still richly pooled in her uterus, safely store and possibly taking to one of her precious eggs.

            A chicken Kurosaki-kun!

            She touched the warm spot, her chest rising with excitement.  Feeling better – “He’s probably getting a snack!” she said cheerily. – she snuggled down under the sheets and decided to spend the time fantasizing about baby Kurosaki-kuns, counting them like counting sheep, naming them all bizarre names instead of numbering them.

            She drifted asleep soon enough.  Her legs rummaged together, slippery with the slow pour of Ichigo’s abundant seed.

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            “Man, I hate being hungry all the time,” Ichigo growled around a loaf of bread.  Kirio was generously quick.  If it was just a late-night snack, he should have just said so, she had advised him, much to his annoyance; he told her that he had said so numerous times before he had given in and ate a three-plate meal.

            “I hope you don’t mind it not being hot from the oven, but they’ll keep fresh for a year even if you leave them out!”  A perk of being the best chef in all Soul Society, Ichigo was sure.  He was grateful to receive them from Kirio’s storeroom – and she still had to tend to Tenjiro’s order when she went back to the kitchen – and said that Orihime liked bread even if it was a day old anyway.

            So he had a platter of the nicest pastries and picked out a Danish for himself.  He would have stayed for a full meal – could have – but he had a sneaky suspicion that it would start a cycle from earlier.  For the moment, he was feeling rested and, thankfully, tired.  Eating was a novelty at the moment, even if his stomach was growling a little.  Probably from the exhaustion of spilling into Kirio…

            “I’ll be there to take care of you in the morning!  So you and Orihime-chan, sleep soundly!”

            He wasn’t sure what that meant, even if he was getting an idea.  But in the morning!  He had a few hours to rest, and maybe he’d feel differently, more in control of his now-overpowering urges.  He chomped, pulled the bread apart with mouth and hand, and then stuffed the rest of it in.  Should have asked for tea to wash it down…

            “Wandering the palace at night.  I’d say it befits a King, but it seems reckless.”

            Ichigo froze, a sense of being surrounded triggering him.  A many-armed apparition was looming behind him, six hands poised to snatch him.  But when he turned, nothing…

            Senjumaru was drifting into the place he had been facing before mistaking her position; he had to turn around again.  “Oh, Senjumaru.  Yeah, I just”—He held up the bread plate—“wanted to bring some…”

            “Reio-sama has attendants for such meager tasks,” she cut him off with cold sarcasm.  “You could have sent the girl instead.”

            So she knew too.  His lips pulled in an awkward line as the tips of his ears reddened.  It seemed news went fast in Squad Zero, or he was just too obvious.

            “Now don’t look at me that way,” she teased, swaying her head to one side, her hair echoing her movement.  “You can put your trust in me, Reio-sama.  I’ll pick out a suitable staff from the selection you’ve made.”

            Ichigo perked up curiously.  “Selection?  What selection?”

            Senjumaru’s answering laugh was soft and discomfiting, as though it was a ridiculous question to need to ask.  “I believe Osho’s already informed you.  Reio-sama needs his new guard with this transference.  Of course”—A hand drifted across her jaw—“we will remain, as the foundation of the Royal Guard.  You can’t just pick tenderfoots to transport up here to run amok.  I’m sure you understand.”

            “Not really,” Ichigo confessed.  All he wanted was to bring some bread to the room.  Was that really such a chore?  Perhaps Senjumaru had a point and he needed someone else to do these mundane things, if he was going to be hooked into conversation at seemingly-every turn.

            Her head tilted back a little with a long, deepthroated hum.  “Perhaps it’s to be expected?  You assumed the role of Reio brashly.”

            Ichigo tightened his jaw, trying to keep himself from looking overly-annoyed.  “It’s not like I could have done anything else.  The world was collapsing.”  He spoke mostly from second-hand memories; what he saw from the video was the only reference he had to the incident, and a trust in himself that he would do whatever necessary to protect everyone.

            “Of course,” cooed the Great Weaver, cocking her head.  “Quite a kingly sentiment.  Perhaps you think too highly of yourself.”

            Ichigo deadpanned, the corner of his inward-slanting eyebrow twitching.  “I don’t.”

            She pressed.  “No matter.  It’ll all work itself to design.”

            There was a sudden, sharp screech, like a cord being yanked taut.  In confusion, Ichigo turned to the sound and found a pair of Senjumaru’s arms at his side, taking the length of his arm with a simple red string.  Flashbacks to being fitted for the kimono to endure seventy-two barriers heading from Reiokyu to a war-torn Soul Society flickered; fresh, traumatizing memories.  Instinctively, he jerked back, careful not to spill bread.

            “Hey, hey!  What do you think you’re doing?”  There wasn’t any anger in his tone; just frantic guardedness.

            “So jumpy,” mused the multi-limbed woman with a soft and mocking grin on her red lips.  “And yet so slow to notice.”  The red string was held up in front of her.  “I had already taken your full measurements three times before you realized it.  You should be a bit more perceptive, even in your palace.”

            “But…!”  He stopped a moment.  The tips of his ears turned red, and a dash of the same color spread over the bridge of his nose.  “I thought I needed to be…”  He decided not to ask, but he remembered how unflinching she had been in her directions when he was standing on that dais in the room of hanging hanks of fabric.

            “Oh?  Are you so concerned about that?”

            She hovered close, closer to him until the bread platter wedged against his stomach.  She paused, and then craned her head forward just slightly; it took grit not to cower, but Ichigo was certainly feeling the urge.  Her presence was very unlike Kirio’s; cold and deep, like he’d plummet if she got too close.  When Kirio could raise spirits, Senjumaru was there to break them.  Could she actually break a Soul King?

            “Merely base measurements, Reio-sama,” she murmured with the inflection of humor at his title.  Hands – that he once again failed to perceive – ghosted down his chest from over his shoulders.  It was such an otherworldly feeling, fingers of ice pulling at his flesh, that he actually lost a roll from his plate.  Senjumaru watched the pastry bounce, tumble, and come to a stop.  “No need to get antsy.  I’ll have you set up soon enough.”  Before her departure, one of her fingers curled up his throat from his collar, dragging with dizzying lightness up to his chin, where she flicked her finger to make his head tic.

            “Reio-sama,” she teased back at him.

            Her leaving didn’t dissipate Ichigo’s tension.  Not until a full minute passed; he exhaled in relief and touched where she had flicked his chin upward.  “She’s a weird one,” though he also had high respect for her and her technique.  When she’d stripped him butt naked his first time here, she at least didn’t lag with his humiliation.  She’d taken account of all of him without scrutiny, and fashioned the durable kimono in no time.  His experience…  It was harder to breathe in there than in the High Preist’s training domain the first time.

            But…

            “Whew…”  He relaxed.  Alone at last, free to go back to bed.  With Inoue.

            Just pick up the dropped roll – He didn’t want to be the type to leave a mess. – and he’d be on his…

            “Aww~ Still wandering around, looking for something to do?”

            He blinked at the two feet stepping in front of him when he stooped to pick up the bread.  His head tilted, finding himself looking up at Giselle Gewelle, who beamed back down at him.  She was at her full height, fist poised lightly on her hips.  Despite the low light, her eyes were twinkling, and Ichigo felt immediately that it wasn’t a good thing for him.

            “This place is a lot more fun at night,” she proclaimed, now looking down either end of the hallway with her hand over her eyes as if to see further.  “It’s so creepy and echo-y, it’s almost like being lost in oblivion!”  And glancing down at him again, she giggled in her throat.  “And you can bump into another lost, miserable soul!”

            Annoyance flickered on Ichigo’s face.  “Misera-?”

            She caught the hand reaching for the bread roll and hoisted him to his feet, pulling insistently for him to follow.  “Come with me, I wanna show you something neat!”

            “Hey, hold on!”  He looked back at the discarded bread and seethed.  He’d get blamed; he knew he would.

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            So that’s how it is…

            The updating Hell butterfly headed off into the night, its mission conveyed, leaving the Fourth Squad barracks.

            Being in the Captain’s quarters wasn’t entirely new for her, but it didn’t feel right not having Captain Unohana there as well.  Even if Kiyone was with her, bustling around to keep busy – her own way of dealing with her own departed and beloved Captain – Isane was still anxious.

            After the delivered message, even Kiyone had to come to a standstill and be with her sister.  There was an elongated silence, and the younger sister knew she had to be the one to break it.  “Are you still going, Nee-san?”

            Isane, facing off the deck into the night sky, turned, smiling.  A beautiful smile, but obvious in its deception.  She was never good at being dishonest with her feelings.  She could be gentle or brave or strong or vulnerable.  She could not feel one way and act another; not convincingly.  It was painful for Kiyone to see.  “It’s the Royal Guard,” Isane said with feigned excitement.  “It’s the same place Captain Unohana went to train.  If-If I’m going to be at her level, I can’t be afraid.”  She turned back to the moon, almost fully waxed.  “Besides, she had faith in Kurosaki-san.  I must do my part in her place.”

            Pursing her lips, Kiyone felt a swell of pride for her sister.  She’d move onward, despite her insecurities.  That was the courage and strength that Kiyone found so admirable; in Nee-san and in Captain Ukitake.

            “Right!” jeered the little blonde, clenching her fists and giving an enthused nod.  “Then we gotta finish packing!  Don’t forget, I’m going with you!  You need support, after all!  Give it your best, Nee-san!”

            Isane was made to genuinely smile.  What a blessing to have a sister like her by her side…

            “Lieutenant Kotetsu!  Are you busy?!”

            Isane blinked, not realizing she’d been so distracted by thoughts that she completely missed the pair walking onto the Fourth Squad’s premises.

            “Huh?  Is that Lieutenant Kuchiki?!”  Kiyone appeared at her sister’s side, recognizing the voice calling out in the night.

            It was Rukia, lumbering into the yard, struggling under the weight of the downed Renji.  Renji, moaning incoherently, was entirely deadweight.

            “What’s wrong with Lieutenant Abarai?”

            Rukia, taking a few steps closer, gave up and lugged the redhead to the ground.  She panted, trying to stand straight though her back was killing her after this long march.  “He drank too much,” she said at first, and then, with a bit of embarrassment to her tone, she added, “and he was playing around and hit his head… pretty hard.”

            Isane and Kiyone could deduce that much from the comically large, round bump throbbing from his skull.  Despite Renji’s affliction, Isane was happy to have a distraction where she could do some good.  “Leave it to us.  Kiyone, help me get him to the infirmary.  We can start you on the basics.”

            “Yes!”  And Kiyone went to work.

ccc

            Ichigo didn’t know what he was doing here, but it seemed of paramount importance to the skinny Quincy that he see where she was staying with the other female Quincy.

            “Just look at these beds,” moped Giselle drearily and plopped down on the empty one.  It hardly shook under her petite weight.  “Aren’t the pitiful?  They’re so wide and lonely”—A normal twin bed, by Ichigo’s estimation, more than big enough for her—“and they wobble so much.  I bet they’d break if two people were on it!”

            Highly doubtful.  “The material they use in Reiokyu is the best in all of Seireitei,” Ichigo answered, cocking his head dubiously.  “It’s not gonna break.  Just try not to jump on it, and it’ll be fine.”

            “Boo~” droned Giselle to his response.  “What a lame response.”

            His patience dipped.  “What’d you expect me to say?”  He fixed the platter of bread between his hands, anxious to be out the door and heading back on track.  “If you’ve got an issue with it, tell Senjumaru or Osho.  They’re the ones in charge of how this place is run.”

            “What?” she responded with half of a laugh.  “I thought you were Reio.  You’re the one in charge, aren’t you?”

            Ichigo gave her a frown that affirmed her question.

            “I was just thinking,” she went on nonchalantly, kicking her feet and looking quite innocently to the ceiling, like a daydreaming kid, “you’d crawl on with me to show how durable the bed is.  Since you’re too dense to take a hint…”

            “Who says I’m too dense?” snapped Ichigo.  “And why would I suggest something like that?!  You can tell just by looking at it that the bed’s fine!”

            Giselle laughed some more, praising him as such a cute but naïve dummy.

            “Uhn~”  The other bed shifted, the body rising up, Liltotto looking unpleasant as always.  Her amber eyes drifted over to the two making such a noise next to her.  Giselle, and then she looked at Ichigo.  Up and down, noting the stupid face he was making.  She heaved a small sigh of resignation.  “So it’s already happening, is it?  I thought you’d at least need a night to settle in before doing it.  Gigi can be such a horny slut when she’s got a crush on someone.”

            “What~?  Don’t say things like that~♪  Ignore her, Ichi-chan.”  Giselle got up and leaned into Ichigo’s chest, much to his discomfort.  “She’s just cranky from waking up~”

            “Wha-What?!”  Panicked, Ichigo staggered away from Giselle, losing a few more pastries in the process.  “What the hell are you two talking about?  What’s going on?”

            “Don’t act so pathetic,” Liltotto droned.  “Obviously, Gigi brought you here to fuck us.  If it lets me stay to keep eating that woman’s cooking, I’m fine with it.”

            “And you call me a slut?” giggled Giselle, and then raised her hand, facing the slack-jawed Ichigo.  “I’ll do it just for fun!  So me first, Ichi-chan!”

            “What the hell?!  You-You both are crazy!” screamed Ichigo, his face burning so red that it seemed steam was evaporating from his ears.  “I didn’t come here for se…”—He caught himself, or just couldn’t find the nerve to say it—“… for that!  She,” he flung a finger at Giselle, who immediately held up her hands like a careless criminal at gunpoint—“pulled me here!  And I’m not going to…!  I just wanted to get something to eat!”

            “Hmph.”  Liltotto was entirely unconvinced and removed herself from under the covers, sitting with her back to the wall, reclining a bit so that her shoulders were against it.  She wore a nighty not very dissimilar to her Quincy uniform, but it rode up easily when she lifted a knee and sported the underside of her clothes.  And to Ichigo’s shock, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.  Nothing to hide her blasé show of her sex.

            Giselle leaned a little to get a view of the upskirt view Ichigo was getting and mused at how slutty she was.

            “Shut up,” Liltotto dismissed her, and then kept her focus on Ichigo’s locked-in gaze.  As if he couldn’t see clear enough already, she pulled the hem a bit with her finger, clearly showing off her womanhood.  A light patch of blonde hair over the sealed line of her sex, hinting that she wasn’t revving to go.  But the offer was clearly extended, and he could take whatever manner necessary to wedge up in between her thin legs.

            “I-I…!”  He jabbered for a moment, his jaw hanging and heavy before he finally mustered his nerve and tore his gaze off of her snatch.  “I really didn’t come here for that!”

            “If that’s true, then fuck me right now,” she bartered, monotone, dispassionate.

            “Are-Are you stupid?!  How would that prove that I didn’t come here for sex?!”

            “A guy who protests this much against sex is likely a pervert, and since I agreed, it threw you off, didn’t it?  Pervert.”

            Ichigo seethed.  Her rational was entirely stupid, yet Giselle was on her side.  “It makes perfect sense.  You came here with me, didn’t you?”  She plopped down.  “So you can just get it over with, and we won’t think you’re a pervert, Ichi no Hentai~♪”

            Growling, Ichigo considered using his godlike powers to show him of consequences of insulting him like this!  But, of course, that’d be reckless.

            Reckless, too, would be staying here!

            He spun on his heel so fast that his tattered cloak billowed behind him.

            “Hey, where are you going?” Giselle called after him, clearly pining.

            “Back to bed,” he barked, and then shot a glare over his shoulder at them.  “You both, too!”  And as he stormed off, he warned them, “I’ll deal with you later.”

            “Ooo, scary~” tittered Giselle.

            Liltotto just gave a small snort – “Whatever.” – and laid back down.

            Ichigo fumed as he marched briskly, afraid to run into any more distractions.  Just what was everyone trying to do?!  Make him go to bed anxious?!  Being blindsided by two provoking Quincy hadn’t exactly kept his blood in check.  He could feel the hardening in his trousers already, but hoped his anger could assuage him.

            Made it!

            He was at the room and grabbed the doorknob…

            This is usually the part someone stops me at the last second…

            To his surprise, he got through and behind the door – locked it for good measure – without a hitch.  Inoue, right where he’d left her, breathing comfortably in the sheets that had come down partway; not entirely as he left her, now that her breasts were exposed again.  From the doorway, he admired her form.  Wow, she was beautiful when she slept…!

            He knocked back that admiration with an angsty How corny, and walked over, mindful of his footfalls.  Kirio had promised the pastries would last in freshness…

            But looking down, he saw that they couldn’t last a simple travel across Reiokyu.  There was only one piece of bread left.  He didn’t count how many had fallen when he dropped them in the Quincies room.

            “Mm?  Kurosaki-kun?”

            He blinked, surprised that Orihime had woken up when he hadn’t made any noise.  “Inoue?”  She was dragging herself up, rubbing her eye with the back of her wrist, careless in her large breasts being exposed.  “Sorry,” he murmured.  “I didn’t mean to wake…”

            Sniff…

            “Aha!”  She perked up rather quickly for having just woken up, eyes zooming straight to the wide plate holding a single loaf of bread.  “I thought I smelled bread!”

            Ichigo twitched unbelievingly.  She woke up from the smell?  He masked his surprise with a smile.  “Y-Yeah!  I went to Kirio…”

            and had sex…

            “… and she gave me some.  Uh, sorry that the rest fell…”

            “Yay!”  Orihime snatched it up immediately and dug in, her appetite grown after earlier.  She moaned pleasurably as she ate, chomp after chomp, not caring about the crumbles falling on her and the sheets.  “Mmm!  Tasty!  Here, Kurosaki-kun!”  She broke off a piece and held it out for him; not to take, but to feed him.

            Despite their encounter and this new dynamic between them, Ichigo was shy to do it, but nonetheless went down and carefully extracted the bread from between her fingers with his teeth.  They both blushed, but smiled.

            This… might work, he thought as he chewed, watching her happiness increase with every bite.

ccc