Bleach Melodies: Dew and Petals (ukitake/Ichigo)

Title: Dew And Petals

Fandom: Bleach

Word count: 971

Pairing: Ukitake/Ichigo

AN: This was for a swap on Y!Gallery. I don’t remember who because I forgot to note that when I first saved this file. *blushes* *looks around* Enjoy.

 

Remember, this is a collection for gift ficcies and prizes. Tales from a Broken Society is a requestable fic collection, UNLESS it’s for another person.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It was surprising to see rain come down and wash the ground clean in the Soul Society, but then again, in the last 4 years, many things had changed. Aizen was long gone, the darkness that had tried so hard to choke the life out of both words was long dispelled and Ichigo had left his human life behind.

 

Why he had though was still hotly debated; only a select few knew, one being the man who sat next to him, watching the rain pitter patter onto the ground.

 

“It’s rather interesting to see rain when I’m so used to only seen the sun,” Ichigo mused quietly, hair dancing in the wind that came through the window.

 

“It really doesn’t happen all that often, only about every 40 to 80 years. It usually happens with there is a high amount of spirit particles,” Jyuushiro replied, eyes taking in the other with a fond look. So few were able, or willing to, see the sweet man that Ichigo had become in his life and death, even surrounded by the war. The silver haired man was feeling rather special on having seen it himself and being able to see it every single day.

 

“I was told by Renji when I asked him during the fuk-taicho meeting,” came the drawled reply, a smile tugging on sweet lips. “It started right in the middle of a brawl between Momo-chan and Rangiku-chan.”

 

“Are they at it again?” the taller male asked, sounding a bit exasperated as he shifted in his seat, moving behind Ichigo and pulling him close. Smoothing a hand over the smaller males kimono clad thigh, Jyuushiro sighed in delight at the warmth that radiated from the strong body that leant into his own.

 

“Yeah, they are,” Ichigo chuckled, watching leaves drip and flowers shine with the rain water coming down. There was a scent in the air, but it was nothing that Ichigo could pin point though. It was almost as if the earth was filled with static, if static could have a scent. It was rather soothing to the red head all things considered, and to him, to be with the closest person in his life just made it just that much nicer to the newest fuku-taicho.

 

“Why were they fighting this time?” Jyuushiro asked, one hand coming up to stroke through the soft, short hair, sounding a bit amused.

 

“Toshiro, who else?” the red head snickered as a spray of rain managed to reach his face, making him blink a few times.

 

“Will they ever stop? No, no,” the taicho hummed, looking down at the innocent eyed male in his arms, “don’t answer that.” Smiling with Ichigo, the elder of the two nuzzled close, enjoying the feel of cool rain filled air sliding over their face. It really was rare for them to find time for themselves, making them sigh in pleasure. Humming quietly, Ichigo shifted, his body relaxing a bit more, eyes lazy as he continued to watch the scenery.

 

“I used to hate the rain,” he said suddenly, prompting Jyuushiro to open his eyes, head tilting to look at the fuku-taichio with curiosity.

 

“Why?” the slim man asked curiously. He hadn’t been told most of Ichigos history, or at least not straight from him, preferring to let Ichigo tell him in his own time.

 

“It was raining the day Grand Fisher took her,” was the quiet reply. “We were walking home from the dojo while it rained pretty lightly all things considered. I can remember the sweet scent as the rain drops washed the earth clean around us and the warmth of her hand as we walked. I was softer then than I am now; sweet to,” Ichigo sighed, eyes watched as a drop danced over a flowers petal.

 

“I think you’re sweet even now, love,” Jyuushiro snorted, smiling at the twitch of lips it got from Ichigo. “Go on,” he prompted.

 

“I saw a girl standing on the river bank, wearing an odd top that fluttered in the wind. She had black hair and pale skin and dark eyes that didn’t really blink. Funny how I can remember that so clearly, but I can barely remember my mother’s face,” the red head sighed, eyes glazing over. Jyuushiro nosed at the others neck, offering a bit of comfort. He smiled at the feel of rough, long fingered hands come up to curl around his own arms. “I remember letting her hand go and slide down the side of the lake, yelling at the girl to get away so she didn’t down. The next thing I know is that I’m waking up, my mother is gone and I have her screams haunting my dreams.”

 

Sighing quietly, the older male shifted his lover around and settled him into a comfortable position, holding him close. Nuzzling into the short hair, he relaxed at the feeling of Ichigo nuzzling back in return. So long as Ichigo wasn’t lost in his memories of that day, it made Jyuushiro happy. But he was still curious as to why his mate didn’t hate the rain any more.

 

“Why don’t you hate the rain now?” he asked after a few minutes. Ichigo pulled away and looked up at his lover with a surprised look. “What?” Jyuushiro asked after a moment, frowning lightly. Ichigo smiled and laughed softly, shaking his head at his lover.

 

“Don’t you remember?” he asked, getting a head shake from the older man. “It was raining the day we kissed for the very first time. It was a spring shower…”

 

“…And we were caught under a tree. Your eyes were sparkling, your lips were wet with dew and I knew that I couldn’t stop from loving you,” Jyuushiro finished, getting a blinding smile from his mate.

 

“Yep,” Ichigo laughed, soft lips stealing it away.