#ichihichi week

[joz-yyh]

Sorry, I am late again and I kinda jumped around a bit! This was an idea I had all the way back in 2015, but it has never seen the light of day until now. I have the whole script for this comic planned out; however, my past self only drew one lonely sketch as reference so, here’s a WIP of the first page~

Day 2: Winter / Spirits 💀 ⛩️ TITLE: “Analemma” noun. (Astronomy) - The sun’s position in the sky, photographed from the same location at the same time of day throughout a year, forms a figure 8. SYNOPSIS: Shiro is left alone in Heuco Mundo after Ichigo uses the final Getsuga Tenshou. Having been separated from his King, the Zanpakutō loses his will to fight and as a result, other hollows seek to make an easy meal out of him. Ichigo appears (as a ray of light at first) to bring him back once he regains his powers.

[shiroxichigo]

For ShiroIchi Week Day 7!

Title: In The Interest Of His King

Rated: T

Tags: Sickfic, fluff, Isshin be a good dad for once challenge

Summary: Ichigo's stubbornness gets in the way of his health. Not just in fights, but when he's sick too. Shiro won't stand for it.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42749652

[joz-yyh]

Day 3: Overcome / Vanity 🪞🕸️ (Inspired by the song: Mirror ft. Henri Werner, Krysta Youngs)

Part of my Occult AU -- In celebration of Halloween, Ichigo and friends decide that it would be a spooky good time to visit Urahara's Antique Shop and buy a "cursed object," to see if any of the old myths are true.

You’ll Find A Rough Script About This AU Under The Cut!

The plan is that each one of his classmates is supposed to choose an object from the shop and "try out" their own ritual at home and then report back the following day to see if the spell was legit or not.

While browsing the menagerie of oddities, Ichigo comes across an old hand mirror among the dusty, cluttered shelves and is instantly drawn to it.

"What did you pick, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime asks, her arms clasped behind her back. The boy shows off the ornate mirror to the redhead, her cute blushing face reflected back at her. "Oh, pretty,” She giggles, “Somehow, I get a creepy feeling from it." “Then, I am definitely buying this one. Thanks,” Ichigo smirks, heading towards the counter where Urahara is keeping a trained eye on him.

That night while examining the mirror, Ichigo finds a hidden scroll inside the handle. He waits til 3:33am as per the instructions, looks into the mirror and speaks the incantation aloud. Minutes pass, he tries the words again (maybe he mispronounced something), but nothing happens.

He goes to bed disappointed, but what Ichigo fails to realize is that he actually did summon Shiro. The white demon is hiding in the mirror, watching silently, keeping his presence a secret. Shiro takes his time haunting the organette day by day. Sometimes, Icihigo will hear a crack, like something breaking, or thump of something falling, but he can never pinpoint what it is because everything looks normal when he goes to check.

Sometimes, shadows creatures will pass across the walls in his house. Sometimes, things move or disappear. Sometimes, Ichigo catches a pale image of himself in the rain, in the glass of a window. He thinks that it's all just his mind playing tricks.

Yuzu is getting really unnerved by all these shenanigans. Karin thinks it's cool that their house is haunted now.

Isshin, who is more spiritually inclined than his son at this point, starts to notice something is amiss and asks Ichigo if he's sensed anything out of the ordinary.

Icihigo denies it and keeps the mirror wrapped up and hidden in a drawer.

As the end of October nears, Ichigo’s friends are still investigating curses and once again visit Urahara's shop. "Have you been getting enough sleep, kid,” Urahara asks, “You don't look so good." Ichigo nearly screams in terror at the feeling of the man’s hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I am fine,” he says, quickly smoothing over his reaction, “All this ghost stuff is kinda making me jumpy.”

“Haha, I guess so,” the shopkeeper laughs, a cryptic edge to his voice, “Though, I must say I am surprised that no one in your little group has been able to conjure up a real life ghost yet. I guess all these ancient relics are nothing, but junk afterall. Sorry kid, no refunds.”

Later that night, Ichigo hears a voice calling out to him and he freaks out when he discovers that the source is coming from inside the mirror.

Shiro has been feeding on the boy's fear and has built up enough vitality that he can finally reveal himself and explain what's been going on.

The demon tells the boy that he could not have been summoned without a powerful psychic, one he’s compatible with and that once summoned, he can travel anywhere so long as there's reflective surface around.

He assures Ichigo that he can only take life energy from the one who invoked his services so, his family and friends are safe.

He continues to tell the teen that he's almost strong enough to leave the glass prison that he's been stuck in, that he just needs a little more (a kiss) and he'll be set free. (and here is where the the art comes in so, this is where I am ending it for now. I hope you enjoyed reading up to this point. If I ever find the time, I might flesh this out into a full-fledged fic).

[joz-yyh]

I am already so far behind in Ichihichi Week that I figured I might as well share some WIPs.

Day 1: Obsession / Authority 👑 ✨ SYNOPSIS: Shiro crowns Ichigo king at a young age, but these trimmings prove to be too big for him -- at least until he reaches his true potential and grows into the role, along with the Hollow’s help. (This comic is a visual metaphor so, there won’t be any dialogue).

You Can See My Sketchy Storyboards Under The Cut!

[joz-yyh]

Fanning the Flame - Preview

SUMMARY: Part of my Japanese Deity AU (click the link for more info). Ichigo is the reincarnated Fire God Kagu-Tsuchi and Shiro is the Sea Dragon Watatsumi that watches over him. Ichigo reaches the age of maturity and as a result, begins to develop romantic interests in his long-time guardian spirit. In an effort to dispose of these annoying feelings, Ichigo grows reclusive and distant until an irritated Shiro finally confronts him about it. Sexy times ensue. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (PREVIEW ONLY for swearing). The rest of the fic is rated E (for sexual themes / mutual handjobs)

PAIRING: Ichihichi/ShiroIchi  (IchigoxShirosaki)

WORD COUNT: 1,810

A/N: Sorry, I am late. This was supposed to be for Day 4 of Ichihichi week for the theme, “Underwater,” but seeing how it has taken me far longer than expected, I am going to post the middle portion of the fic that’s been completed so far. Hopefully, I get the rest done and upload to Ao3 sometime soon.

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Ichigo cards through the dense foliage, hidden from sight, silently spying on his immortal counterpart from afar. He finds Shiro in one of his usual spots along the shoreline, the sapphire dragonlord contorted into a miserable posture of crossed limbs, his scowling face elevated by the brunt of his knuckles.

He's jabbing the small fire he's built with a stick, muttering vague obscenities at it, two skewered fish planted in the sand around the flames, seared brown and ready to eat, but remain suspiciously untouched, as if waiting for someone who is inexcusably late to arrive.

The wind carries the smoky vapors towards the man lurking in the camouflage of bushes and it smells delicious, one of his favorites most likely, and even though there's no way Shiro could have known that he was coming tonight, Ichigo has a feeling those twin gifts moored around the fire pit were delicacies intended for him.

For as angry as Ichigo was, all of his misplaced aggression drains away, replaced by feelings of longing, recognizing this dejected scene as a looking glass into his own perpetuated misery.

The organette shrinks further into the shadows of the forest, distracted, his retreating steps rustling the dense, oversized leaves that he's crouched behind.

Shiro's webbed ears suddenly twitch, his sensitive nose huffing the moisture in the air, picking up Ichigo's scent.

Shit, he's been found out.

Ichigo turns his back, about to flee to the safety of his secluded bungalow, but the dragonlord finds him before he even has a chance to blink. The organette gasps, brown eyes going wide because he never knew Shiro capable of such agility outside of the water.

"Ichigo," Shiro hollers far louder than necessary, the scorn evident in his voice, "Just where the hell have you been?!"

"Che, "Ichigo sneers scathingly, "I am my own man now. I am free to go wherever I please. Get used to it."

Shiro's hands ball into fists, black nails digging into the skin of his palms. They've been through too much, shared too much and the elder god wasn't about to let his stubborn upstart throw all those years away just for a poorly constructed bluff of impertinence.

"You're not going anywhere, not without an explanation," Shiro snarls, determination broadening his stance.

"Don't try to get in my way," Ichigo warns, gathering up his energy in wicked flare of power.

"I won't have to try," Shiro boasts, immune to the cheap tricks of bravado the organette is putting on.

"I said move aside," Ichigo growls with desperation, incensed. There's a dangerous leer in his eyes, a war of emotions that says he's being forced to do something he'll regret, pleading with the other man to stand down.

It's clear to Shiro that Ichigo doesn't have the heart to fight him, but the sea god wasn't the type to turn down the opportunity to knock some sense into the insolent boy, not after all the heedless trouble he caused him.

"The hell I will," Shiro roars, venom clinging to his every word, bearing the burden of his frustration for the other male to see.

In a hurricane of surf and sparks, the guardian deity transforms into the staggering presence of his true self, a 50 foot long sea serpent that held commanded over vicious thunder and treacherous waves.

They may have sparred in the past, but Ichigo has never fought his mentor in this state, not to this degree, not seriously.  He was certain that if they were both in the water, there would be no contest of strength, but this was sand under their feet and the dragon's massive, lumbering body wasn't suited for battle here. At least Ichigo had the advantage of terrain, and while it might be easier for Shiro to maneuver on something more amorphous than solid ground, it was enough of an edge for Ichigo to formulate a plan of escape.

The fire god sends a blast of fire in the dragon's direction (although diluted) to create an opening and buy himself some time, aiming to keep those jaws from getting too close.

To his dismay, Shiro doesn't bother to defend himself from the attack, instead ramming through the whirl of flames head-on, sacrificing his flesh for the sake of speed.

Ichigo falters, missing his chance, his getaway attempt impeded by the impressive rows of teeth blocking his path. Ichigo jumps back to avoid being mauled, extending the span of neutral space between them.

The dragon's talons dig deep into the sifting white sand to anchor himself in place, his fins shivering as he summons a ring of electricity to surround them, trapping Ichigo inside a magical barrier.

Shiro is quaking, expanding his bulk with unbridled anger, the lighting surrounding his impressive length cracking like a whip, his whole being devoted to subduing the other into submission no matter what the cost.

The dragon knows that foolish look veiled in the depths of those amber eyes, a look that told him that the naive youth was going to attempt something stupid, like trying to break free of his prison.

"Stop Ichi," Shiro roars, teeth bared, "I won't let you run away! Tell me what's wrong! Don't make me force it out of you."

The dragon's voice is altered, spoken in an ancient tongue, but Ichigo understands the words all the same. The organette's face is one of shock and disclosure, quickly fading into something tormented and disgraced.

Ichigo has no choice, but to stare down those piercing, exotic eyes, witness the dark discoloration of scales singed and burned across the dragon's face, a wound he'd caused with his own two hands, however well-meaning his intentions might have been at the start.

The fire god reaches out towards Shiro's snout, a slow and telegraphed action that was easy enough to avoid, but the dragon finds himself flinching, startled by this approach.

A tanned hand treads lightly over the collection of injured scales, and Shiro hisses, thinking that this was perhaps a feint, a ploy to penetrate his guard by targeting his weak point, but as his electric waves zap up Ichigo's arm, the dragon realizes it's something much more bittersweet.

Ichigo squints, enduring the surge of lightning, a look of remorse choking his expression as teardrops fall, dotting the tiny scales lining the sea serpent's sharp cheeks.

It finally occurs to Shiro that the young man is crying, mourning the damage he'd done. Such a discovery wracks the dragon to his core. His aura of magic falls, dispelled and exiled, the will to fight sapped from him, powerless in the face of Ichigo's grief.

His massive body shifts, surrendering entirely, wrapping the fire god’s smaller frame against his in large snake-like bands. The dragon's eyes close, nuzzling the young man who was clinging to his snout like a temple of salvation.

"It's alright," the dragon soothes, grumbling lowly in his throat to hush the young man's sorrows, "I am here. You have me."

"I am sorry Ichi," Shiro continues after a long, sobering moment, "I lost my temper. One day you were just gone and I couldn't sense you anywhere. I was so worried something had happened to you, but I am glad you're OK, that you came back to me."

No, this wasn't right. Shiro shouldn't be the one apologizing to him. It was Ichigo who was all wrong, and it made the orangette feel even worse about the seemingly thick, impenetrable wall he had erected between them.

"We've lived peacefully all this time...," Ichigo sniffles, trying to form the words that were so hard to admit, "... and it's because of me ... I changed -- I changed everything."

Shiro listens diligently, offering the same consoling gestures and sounds he used when Ichigo was just a squabbling child full of mischief and tears. He let's the fire god find his thoughts, his voice, knowing better than to dissuade him.

"I ... I hate myself for having these impure thoughts about you," Ichigo grounds out, smothering his words against cerulean scales, "I ... I don't understand them. I am scared of what I might do, of ruining whatever it is that we have left," the organette’s voice wavers, overflowing like a broken dam.

"Ichi...," Shiro begins softly, "...what's happening to you ... it's a natural change. You need to accept that even someone as exalted and powerful as you cannot suppress an instinct that is simply beyond your control."

Shiro understand the concept of what he's trying to teach the younger god all too well. He'd stolen Ichigo away from his birthplace on a whim, intertwining their fates, claiming the child's destiny as his own when the judgement wasn't his to make.

The love he held for Ichigo was as grand and as infinite as the ocean, evolving over time, becoming something else when the young magician of flames had grown into his godhood, matured into the handsome man before him.

"I chose to stand by your side all those years ago and nothing you could do will ever change how I feel about you," Shiro resolves, content to stay this way forever, "I am yours, now and always."

Ichigo's tears have slowed their descent, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he kisses the scales closest to his lips. They've shared platonic kisses before, but this one held a promise stripped of innocence, a token reserved for lovers.

"It hurt being away from you ..." Ichigo says, finding the courage to confess, "... I thought that I could bare it if it meant saving you from this pain, but I made it worse."

"Ichi, you could never hurt me," Shiro assures him, his long tail nudging the youth closer, coiling around the small silhoutte as tight as he could possibly be.

It had been a clear night mere minutes ago, as most of the evenings on the island were, but now the sky was grey with overcast, the faint downpour of rain staining the beach around them with dark freckles, the dreary weather a reflection of Shiro's own inner world.

"Come, let's get inside, out of the storm," Shiro offers, coddling the boy as if he was too delicate and might suffer from the gentle patter of raindrops on his skin.

"But the fire," Ichigo squeaks weakly, glancing over at the doused flames of the forgotten campfire, the wasted meal rendered soggy and unsalvageable thanks to the sudden shower of rain.

It was just like Ichigo to worry over something so inconsequential, to put trivial things before himself.

"Forget it. I can always make more," Shiro says dismissively, ruling Ichigo as his first and only priority.

The vulnerable spellcaster gives a subtle nod, his hand tracing along the curves of the dragon's sinewy body as Shiro lowers himself down, allowing Ichigo access to his back. The orangette climbs on, reining in the sturdy set of horns as they ride off into the crash of tides, seeking the shelter of their nest.

{End Preview}

[joz-yyh]

Fanning the Flame - Ch. 2

SUMMARY: Part of my Japanese Deity AU (click the link for more info). Ichigo is the reincarnated Fire God Kagu-Tsuchi and Shiro is the Sea Dragon Watatsumi that watches over him. Ichigo reaches the age of maturity and as a result, begins to develop romantic interests in his long-time guardian spirit. In an effort to dispose of these meddlesome feelings, Ichigo grows reclusive and distant until an irritated Shiro finally confronts him about it. Sexy times ensue. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: E (for sexual themes / pining / fantasizing / masturbation + mutual masturbation)

PAIRING: Ichihichi/ShiroIchi  (IchigoxShirosaki)

WORD COUNT: 5,041

READ ON AO3: Here

A/N: Hey, it’s the part y’all have been waiting for! This chapter is twice as long so, I hope it doesn’t disappoint~ Maybe if enough people like this story, I'll write more of this AU, but for now this is the end! Thanks for reading. 🖤 

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Ichigo cards through the dense foliage, hidden from sight, silently spying on his immortal counterpart from afar. He finds Shiro in one of his usual spots along the shoreline, the sapphire dragonlord contorted into a miserable posture of crossed limbs, his scowling face elevated by  the brunt of his knuckles.  

He's jabbing the small fire he's built with a stick, muttering vague obscenities at it, two skewered fish planted in the sand around the flames,  seared  brown and ready to eat, but remain suspiciously untouched, as if waiting for someone who is inexcusably late to arrive.

The wind carries the smoky vapors towards the man lurking in the camouflage of bushes and it smells delicious, one of his favorites most likely, and even though there's no way Shiro could have known that he was coming tonight, Ichigo has a feeling those twin gifts moored around the fire pit were delicacies intended for him.

For as angry as Ichigo was, all of his misplaced aggression drains away, replaced by feelings of longing, recognizing this dejected scene as a looking glass into his own perpetuated misery.

The organette shrinks further into the shadows of the forest, distracted, his retreating steps rustling the dense, oversized leaves that he's crouched behind.

Shiro's webbed ears suddenly twitch, his sensitive nose huffing the moisture in the air, picking up Ichigo's scent.

Shit, he's been found out.

Ichigo turns his back, about to flee to the safety of his secluded bungalow, but the dragonlord finds him before he even has a chance to blink. The organette gasps, brown eyes going wide because he never knew Shiro capable of such agility outside of the water.

"Ichigo," Shiro hollers far louder than necessary, the scorn evident in his voice when speaks his full name, "Just where the hell have you been?!"

"Che, "Ichigo sneers scathingly, "I am my own man now. I am free to go wherever I please. Get used to it."

Shiro's hands ball into fists, black nails digging into the skin of his palms. They've been through too much, shared too much and the elder god wasn't about to let his stubborn upstart throw all those years away just for a poorly constructed bluff of impertinence.

"Yer not goin' anywhere, not without an explanation," Shiro snarls, determination broadening his stance.

"Don't try to get in my way," Ichigo warns, gathering up his energy in wicked flare of power.

"I won't have teh try," Shiro boasts, immune to the cheap tricks of bravado the organette is putting on.

"I said move aside," Ichigo growls with desperation, incensed. There's a dangerous leer in his eyes, a war of emotions that says he's being forced to do something he'll regret, pleading with the other man to stand down.

It's clear to Shiro that Ichigo doesn't have the heart to fight him, but the sea god wasn't the type to turn down the opportunity to knock some sense into the insolent boy, not after all the heedless trouble he caused him.

"Teh hell I will," Shiro roars, venom clinging to his every word, bearing the burden of his frustration for the other male to see.

In a hurricane of surf and sparks, the guardian deity transforms into the staggering presence of his true self, a 50 foot long sea serpent that held commanded over vicious thunder and treacherous waves.

They may have sparred in the past, but Ichigo has never fought his mentor in this state, not to this degree, not seriously.  He was certain that if they were both in the water, there would be no contest of strength, but this was sand under their feet and the dragon's massive, lumbering body wasn't suited for battle here. At least Ichigo had the advantage of terrain, and while it might be easier for Shiro to maneuver on something more amorphous than solid ground, it was enough of an edge for Ichigo to formulate a plan of escape.

The fire god sends a blast of fire in the dragon's direction (although diluted) to create an opening and buy himself some time, aiming to keep those jaws from getting too close.

To his dismay, Shiro doesn't bother to defend himself from the attack, instead ramming through the whirl of flames head-on, sacrificing his flesh for the sake of speed.

Ichigo falters, missing his chance, his getaway attempt impeded by the impressive rows of teeth blocking his path. Ichigo jumps back to avoid being mauled, extending the span of neutral space between them.

The dragon's talons dig deep into the sifting white sand to anchor himself in place, his fins shivering as he summons a ring of electricity to surround them, trapping Ichigo inside a magical barrier.

Shiro is quaking, expanding his bulk with unbridled anger, the lighting surrounding his impressive length cracking like a whip, his whole being devoted to subduing the other into submission no matter what the cost.

The dragon knows that foolish look veiled in the depths of those amber eyes, a look that told him that the naive youth was going to attempt something stupid, like trying to break free of his prison.

"Stop Ichi," Shiro roars, teeth bared, "I won't let you run away! Tell me what's wrong! Don't make me force it out of you."

The dragon's voice is altered, spoken in an ancient tongue, but Ichigo understands the words all the same. The organette's face is one of shock and disclosure, quickly fading into something tormented and disgraced.

Ichigo has no choice, but to stare down those piercing, exotic eyes, witness the dark discoloration of scales singed and burned across the dragon's face, a wound he'd caused with his own two hands, however well-meaning his intentions might have been at the start.

The fire god reaches out towards Shiro's snout, a slow and telegraphed action that was easy enough to avoid, but the dragon finds himself flinching, startled by this approach.

A tanned hand treads lightly over the collection of injured scales, and Shiro hisses, thinking that this was perhaps a feint, a ploy to penetrate his guard by targeting his weak point, but as his electric waves zap up Ichigo's arm, the dragon realizes it's something much more bittersweet.

Ichigo squints, enduring the surge of lightning, a look of remorse choking his expression as teardrops fall, dotting the tiny scales lining the sea serpent's sharp cheeks.

It finally occurs to Shiro that the young man is crying, mourning the damage he'd done. Such a discovery wracks the dragon to his core. His aura of magic falls, dispelled and exiled, the will to fight sapped from him, powerless in the face of Ichigo's grief.

His massive body shifts, surrendering entirely, wrapping the fire god’s smaller frame against his in large snake-like bands. The dragon's eyes close, nuzzling the young man who was clinging to his snout like a temple of salvation. "It's alright," the dragon soothes, grumbling lowly in his throat to hush the young man's sorrows, "I am here. Ya have me."

"Sorry Ichi," Shiro continues after a long, sobering moment, "I lost my temper. One day you were just gone and I couldn't sense you anywhere. I was so worried somethin' had happened to ya, but I am glad yer OK, that you came back teh me."

No, this wasn't right. Shiro shouldn't be the one apologizing to him. It was Ichigo who was all wrong, and it made the orangette feel even worse about the seemingly thick, impenetrable wall he had erected between them.

"We've lived peacefully all this time...," Ichigo sniffles, trying to form the words that were so hard to admit, "... and it's because of me ... I changed -- I changed everything."

Shiro listens diligently, offering the same consoling gestures and sounds he used when Ichigo was just a squabbling child full of mischief and tears. He let's the fire god find his thoughts, his voice, knowing better than to dissuade him.

"I ... I hate myself for having these impure thoughts about you," Ichigo grounds out, smothering his words against cerulean scales, "I ... I don't understand them. I am scared of what I might do, of ruining whatever it is that we have left," the organette’s voice wavers, overflowing like a broken dam.

"Ichi...," Shiro begins softly, "...what's happenin' to ya ... it's a natural change. Ya need to accept that even someone as powerful as you cannot suppress an instinct that is simply beyond yer control."

Shiro understand the concept of what he's trying to teach the younger god all too well. He'd stolen Ichigo away from his birthplace on a whim, intertwining their fates, claiming the child's destiny as his own when the judgement wasn't his to make.

The love he held for Ichigo was as grand and as infinite as the ocean, evolving over time, becoming something else when the young magician of flames had grown into his godhood, matured into the handsome man before him.

"I chose to stand by yer side all those years ago and nothing ya could do will ever change how I feel about ya," Shiro resolves, content to stay this way forever, "I am yers, now and always."

Ichigo's tears have slowed their descent, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he kisses the scales closest to his lips. They've shared platonic kisses before, but this one held a promise stripped of innocence, a token reserved for lovers.

"It hurt being away from you ..." Ichigo says, finding the courage to confess, "... I thought that I could bare it if it meant saving you from this pain, but I made it worse."

"Ichi, ya could never hurt me," Shiro assures him, his long tail nudging the youth closer, coiling around the small silhoutte as tight as he could possibly be.

It had been a clear night mere minutes ago, as most of the evenings on the island were, but now the sky was grey with overcast, the faint downpour of rain staining the beach around them with dark freckles, the dreary weather a reflection of Shiro's own inner world.

"Come, let's get inside, out of the storm," Shiro offers, coddling the boy as if he was too delicate and might suffer from the gentle patter of raindrops on his skin.

"But the fire," Ichigo squeaks weakly, glancing over at the doused flames of the forgotten campfire, the wasted meal rendered soggy and unsalvageable thanks to the sudden shower of rain.

It was just like Ichigo to worry over something so inconsequential, to put trivial things before himself.

"Forget it. I can always make more," Shiro says dismissively, ruling Ichigo as his first and only priority.

The vulnerable spellcaster gives a subtle nod, his hand tracing along the curves of the dragon's sinewy body as Shiro lowers himself down, allowing Ichigo access to his back. The orangette climbs on, reining in the sturdy set of horns as they ride off into the crash of tides, seeking the shelter of their nest.

--------------------------------------------------

Shiro emerges from the pool of water with a noisy splash, leaping out of the underground waterway leading into their home.

The sea creature pauses, allowing Ichigo a moment to climb down from his spine before shaking his fins free of excess water, sprinkling Ichigo with a miniature shower in the process. The organettee shields himself from the spray, chuckling playfully at his companions jaunty antics while Shiro smirks at him from above, unfurling into his full superior height. 

Mostly dry, Shiro clambers on ahead of his companion, circling around the rock formation of their nest, the most notable feature attributed to their modest cave dwelling.

Ichigo raises his temperature, quickly evaporating the dampness of his clothes, but yet he hesitates to follow the dragon further inside, stalling by the small pocket of the water's edge, his mind filled with burdensome thoughts.

"Ichi," Shiro calls gently from his spot, an elegant snout raised towards the redhead, "come join me."

At the implications of those few simple words, Ichigo feels a sudden jolt of fear run through his body, mixed with a hint of excitement. He swallows down the lump in his throat, silently obeying the command as he approaches the stone crater that the dragonlord is comfortably nestled in.

The fire gods movements are disjointed, unsure as he slides down the bank of their nest and into the straw bedding that lines the bottom, crawling over to curl around the serpents body, a practiced mantra he's performed countless times.

While the organette lies there, his heart pounds away in his ears, keeping him awake, tense, rigid. He's all too aware of the cool body of scales beneath him, around him, the deep guttural breaths that resound from the dragon's lungs, echoing in the underground space and despite wanting to put their nonsensical spat behind them and just get some sleep, this precarious situation only seems to prolong his torture.

"Ichi, what is it," Shiro grumbles, a coarse tiredness to his voice, but still laced with concern.

"I-I can't...," Ichigo says, shaking his head and flushing deeply, "I just can't stop thinking about touching you."

Shiro snickers at that because the fire god is once again failing to see what's so obviously in front of him.

"But, you are touching me."

Ichigo releases a frustrated grunt, his thin brows knitted together in a scowl.

"No! Not like... not like that," the orangette trails off, fists clenching tighter in the dragon's silky fur. The fire god is thoroughly embarrassed, mortified by the thought of explaining just what kind of lewd exchanges he wants to try while they're resting so close together.

"Maybe, I should be the one doing the touching then," Shiro remarks coyly with a toothy grin.

The dragon's serpentine body uncoils, advancing on the fire god. Shiro's bulk looms over him, all encompassing and all consuming by comparison to his much smaller physique, a long forked tongue coming to lick at his cheek.

"B-but ... y-you're s-so big..." the orangette flounders, leaning away, his back pressed against the stone outcropping of their shared nest.

He doesn't exactly sound turned off by the idea, just lacking the experience to handle a partner of such considerable size, and that with enough time, he'd gain the confidence to explore the possibility.

Shiro scoffs, jerking his jaws away as if there's no satisfying his partner, but still somehow managing to look amused while he does it.

In a beacon of light, sun dancing across the surface of waves, a flourish of seafoam and bubbles, Ichigo is met with his mentor's hybrid human form. Ichigo blinks, looking down the length of his body to see Shiro draped across his lap, staring up at him with hooded, golden eyes.

"How's this," Shiro smirks devilishly, sliding closer, "Better for you?"

The dragonlord has them pressed chest to chest, legs entangled together, his mane of white hair spilling out around him and despite the hitch of arousal, Ichigo tries to remain level-headed as he clenches his fists at his sides, determined to not touch any of the alluring skin within his reach, which just so happened to be all of him.

"Don't force yourself to do this because of me," Ichigo admits, the guilt causing him to shake his head and avert his gaze, "If this isn't something that you want then ... then just tell me. It's not your fault that I can't control myself."

Shiro's cheshire grin drops into a frown, his vermilion eyes matching Ichigo's guilty ones. It was just like redhead to deny himself. Hard to believe that this angsty teenager used to be the epitome of an insufferable brat (though he still kind of is).

The sea god deflates, retracting a portion of his infringing behavior just slightly, a perplexing rarity that has Ichigo anxiously clinging onto his every move.

"Ichi... maybe ... maybe I've been anticipating this day for longer than you know," Shiro explains, his claws puncturing into the palms of his fists, trying to steel his nerves so that he can say what he needs to.

Ichigo deserved to know the world, to meet new people outside of their gilded cage of paradise. There were so many lands to travel, so many other guardian spirits. Surely, Ichigo would be better suited with a deity more akin to his age, one of a kindred element that didn't oppose him at every turn. 

"The day ya left, I thought I had my answer," Shiro divulges, revealing a shroud of his anguish, "I told myself that it was for the best, that ya didn't want to tie yourself down to an old, washed up god like me anymore."

Shiro pauses, fraught by the ugly, selfish side of himself that he kept locked away.

"But I still hoped that ya'd come back," the sea god weeps, claws reaching up to stroke along the young man's cheek, incredulous that such a perfect miracle existed, "And ya did. Ya came back to me."

The dragonlord had let the boy go once, but he refused to be so generous, so understanding that he'd let it happen a second time. He would destroy any and all in his path, squander any obstacles between them, wager his very soul to keep them together because Ichigo was finally his, wholly and truly.

Ichigo smiles sweetly, reaching up to touch his partner's face with the same reverence, tracing over the long frame of forelocks. The fire god tugs on the sterling strands playfully, just as he did when he was a child, but the heady intentions behind the taunt are much more complex.

"Shii ... ," Ichigo rasps, relief and yearning straining his voice, " ... there's only you."

"Ichi," Shiro growls in warning, the spell of attraction written all over his face, "if ya say yer choosing me, then I am not goin' to hold back."

"Good, because that's exactly what I am saying," Ichigo admits, although the cavalier audacity with which he delivers the line quickly fizzles out, becoming a meek baritone as he adds on, "A-and ...  I wouldn't want you to -- hold back I mean ..."

Shiro can't stop staring at those pretty pink lips, bridges the gap between them to determine if they're as petal soft and delectable as they seem. Their kiss is gentle at first, light and sweet and lingering because neither of the two men want to see the moment end. Ichigo's eyes fly open, gasping when he feels an impish black tongue swipe over the seam of his lips.

Shiro relents to the rigid muscles beneath him, breaking contact to study Ichigo's reaction, worried that he was taking things too fast. The younger male's face is the picture of scandalized, a vibrant red streaked across his cheeks.

"What ... what was that," Ichigo asks, starstruck, his fingertips tracing over the the tingling sensations left there.

"My tongue of course," Shiro teases, his snarky wit never failing to lighten the taunt strings on Ichigo's heart.

"No shit," Ichigo laughs, quirking a brow at his counterpart's dry sense of humor.

"Ya like it," Shiro presses, the infliction in his voice a splice between a remark and a question, the two rolled into one.

Ichigo hums his approval, a closed-mouth chuckle trapped in his throat as his eyes curve upwards with telltale happiness. Shiro loves that look, the way those beautiful eyes shine so brightly for him, only for him. 

They're gravitating towards each other again, as natural and cosmic as the sun chasing after the moon. As they meet in another smooth press of lips, Shiro keeps his tongue safely inside his mouth, but to his surprise, he feels Ichigo's mimic his earlier trick, flicking his tongue bashfully against his lips.

Shiro opens up for him once he recovers, Ichigo finding his forked tongue and lapping along the split, mapping it out with his own. The organette finds the feeling strange, curious, but definitely pleasant, borderline addicting as he explores what undulations elicit the most heat.

Shiro's clawed fingers move to cup below a tanned ear, massaging there, his other hand on Ichigo's shoulder, encouraging, enticing, grounding.

When they pull apart, Shiro wipes a thumb across his beryl blue lips, black tongue darting out lick the remnants off, a spectacle for Ichigo to devour.

The pyromancer's coppery eyes turn glassy, his thoughts clouded by a thick fog, still lost in the memory of bliss that their mouths created. He's breathing heavier, panting away the wetness on his lips, a tongue poking out to slick them again.

Shiro shifts his position, seating himself fully atop Ichigo's lap, feeling the evidence of his partner's erection through the ruffles of fabric, earning a pained whine and a shudder from the fire god.

"You can touch me, ya know," Shiro breathes against the tip of a rosy ear, leaning down to bite at the pyro's neck, suckling on tanned skin until it's glistening red. Ichigo hisses, unable to mask the needy groans that those sharp touches rip from him.

The purr of sultry words have the redhead's hardness twitching with anticipation, in agreement, biting his swollen lip to hold back another moan because just the thought of touching what was once forbidden azure skin is dangerously close to sending him over the edge.

Shiro's yukata is falling down of it's own accord, creased around his elbows, stealing Ichigo's attention as it reveals more of the markings tattooed across his chest and though the teen has seen all of this eye candy before, to have it presented to him in such an intimate context is intoxicating.

Even after Shiro had given him explicit permission, he's still afraid that the moment he accepts, his coveted crush will vanish, just another dream ripped away by wakefulness.

Trepidaciously, tanned fingers dare to indulge, smoothing along Shiro's chilled thighs, warming them with his inhuman heat, running beneath the slip of the parted yukata. He's getting braver, bolder now that he knows Shiro won't disappear, that the man he loves is solid and firm and real under his hands.

The fire god reaches the crux of the dragon's hips, shaping the dips and curves of a slim torso with his touch. It's there that Ichigo enforces some unwarranted restraint on himself, a tameness that wouldn't budge, not until he meets Shiro's approving eyes.

"Show me," he begs the half man, half dragon, breathless and reverent for guidance. He silently thanks the heavens and all it's celestial beings that the water god understands what he means.

Shiro leans back in his seat, reclining further away, leveraging one hand on his partner so that he can spread his legs wider, Ichigo feeling the chain of motion under his palms as he does it.

"Touchin' me isn't enough, eh? Now ya need teh see it too?"

Shiro's chiding him, but judging by the short intakes of breath in which he says it, the dragonlord seems positively overjoyed by his request. Charcoal black claws dip behind the barely there veil of fabric, purposefully dragging out the suspense, wringing out every last drop of titillating energy that he can from the young man until he finally peels back the yukata to expose himself, graceful fingers sheathed around the base.

Ichigo's brain screeches to a halt, glued to the exotic sight of the dragon's exalted manhood. The hardness and length are similar enough to his own, but with a few key distinctions. Besides the obvious turquoise of his skin, the shaft is a more sinewy shape, flexible almost, the vein running along the underside wide and pronounced, a ombre of purple faded over a smooth tapered head.

Ichigo had had numerous fantasies that revolved around this very moment and none of them could have prepared him for an in-person glimpse at the real thing. The younger of the two men is shaking, over-stimulated and scorching hot, an aegis of flames flailing around him as he ironically remains frozen in place.

"C'mon Ichi, lemme see yers too," Shiro teases, using his own water magic to negate the flames licking against his skin, keeping him a comfortable 75 degrees despite the surge in temperature. Their combined energies clash in a flume of steam, turning their nest into a humid sauna.

Shiro adds on few languid strokes to his hardness, unable to mask the groan that he elicits from himself, drinking in Ichigo's lustful expressions as the teen watches him through the billows of mist.

That seems to snap the redhead out of his daze, driving him forward with a mind-numbing cocktail of desire, his arousal proving to be stronger than his nervousness.

This would be a lot quicker if he didn't have Shiro's weight balanced on his legs, but he really doesn't want to ask the man to move, even a second would be too long for him to wait, so as awkward as it is from his seated position, the orangette manages to pull his pants down just enough to free his manhood.

"Just ... just don't laugh, OK," Ichigo huffs shyly, his face a bright scarlet as he stubbornly tries to hide himself from view.

Shiro's body betrays him, a chuckle slipping free of his control before he can stop it, forever the rebel.

"Why would I laugh?"

"You're laughing right now," Ichigo argues with a snarl of teeth, brows furrowing in anger to match the harsh clip in his voice.

Shiro's pout of shock expands into a huge grin, knowing that Ichigo was thinking way too hard about this, making the situation more complicated than it need to be. The water god supposed he was partially to blame for that though and his partner did deserve a little reassurance after the predictable quip of laughter he'd taken at the other's expense.

Shiro leans in for another kiss, claws gently stroking against Ichigo's feverish cheek, easing the tension out of him.

"Can't help it when yer so cute," is his defense, and the hybrid says it with such immaculate adoration in his voice that it makes Ichigo melt.

While their mouths are occupied, the dragon sneaks his free hand between them, finding the fire god's erect member just out of sight, but most definitely within his reach.

"Ahhh," Ichigo spasms, too distracted by their kiss to notice the infringing touch before it was too late. "H-heyyy, w-what -- what are you doing," he stutters, breaking off the kiss, caught off guard when he feels a fist squeeze around the base of his cock, right above his balls.

"Hmm, Ichi you feel good, " Shiro purrs, undeterred, stroking what flesh isn't subdued by the insistent blockade of modesty, "Please, show it teh me. I wanna see all-o-ya."

That's all the convincing Ichigo needs. He's too self-conscious to meet Shiro's eyes, still afraid of rejection, but slowly, painstakingly, he removes the hand obscuring Shiros full view of his manhood.

The dragonlord ogles his prize. Ichigo is beautiful, so tanned and slick and hot just like the rest of him. He can't wait to give it a few languid, celebratory pumps so, he doesn't resist doing just that.

"What are you so worried about," he hums in a velvety smooth voice, licking his lips because he wouldn't mind eating the young man whole, "You're delicious."

Ichigo goes mute, his entire vocabulary eluding him at this reeling admission.

"Hey, Ichi," Shiro suggests, a impish look in his yellow eyes, trying to refocus his partner's attention, "don't you think they would look good if we pressed them together?"

An astute, "huh," is all Ichigo can salvage from what's left of his cognitive thought processes, Shiro already sliding further up his torso, taking both of their cocks in his hand.

Ichigo cries out, one eye squinted shut, overcome by the sensation of their joined skin.

"Mmm, Fuck Shii...," he pants, about to loose it.

He let's Shiro take control, the curves of his body and the cadence of his thrusts mimicking the pattern of rolling waves. The smooth texture of the water god's dick around his, fire and ice meeting in a smoke of dewy perspiration, clasping them both inside a vice is more than he can handle.

"Aahhh, oh God that ... I ... I am ...," Ichigo's voice is a garbled mess of incomplete thoughts, unable to hang onto his coherent senses any longer.  

"Me too Ichi," he slurs, forked tongue growing heavy, "Let's cum together."

Shiro kisses him, the younger man moaning loudly into his mouth as he picks up speed. Tanned hands yank on his lover by the hair, unable to contain himself as he spurts his release all over clawed fingernails. 

"Shii ... ahhh, mmm Shii--nnnn," Ichigo whimpers, hands unable to stay still as they move to clutch at his partner's neck, jumping to grasp mottled sapphire shoulders, bracing himself as he rides through his orgasm.

"That's it Ichigo ...," Shiro praises, a swell of pride filling him as his lover comes undone, "yer so good fer me, so beautiful."

With a sharpened tip of his nail, Shiro lifts his partner's chin, staring deep into Ichigo's dazzling auburn eyes, committing his post-coitus face to memory because he's looking forward to changing it into something much more filthy and depraved next time.

"Mine, all mine," Shiro lilts, more than pleased with himself for having claimed the skilled magician as his own. He seals blue lips across a sweaty brow, moving down to place a second kiss to peach-colored cheeks, and lastly to the handsome boy's parted lips.

"Shii ... don't forget, you're mine too," Ichigo whispers with a shy grumble, having the gall to look absolutely precious despite all the naughty things they'd done to each other.

The fire god wraps his arms around the leviathan's middle, holding him tightly, linking them together because this man was a gift he never wanted to let go of.

The organette notches his nose under the water god's neck, breathing in the scent of ocean and salt, elated tears mingling with the kisses he places along the ridges of Shiro's collar bone.

"Trust me Ichi," Shiro says, twining his arms around his partner's back, nuzzling his messy strands of hair, "I won't forget."

[shiroxichigo]

Written for ShiroIchi day 4, prompt "coffee" by me and @thelilknight

Title: Something Sweet

Pairings: ShiroIchi, a side of GrimmNel and RenRuki

Rating: M (for a planned spicy scene later on!)

Summary: Shiro is a barista, and Ichigo is an office worker. Typical coffee-shop-AU shenanigans ensue, with a jealous ex stirred into the mix!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42653445

[shiroxichigo]

My submission for ShiroIchi Week Day 4!

Title: A Tale Of Kingdoms And Curses

Pairings: ShiroIchi, a side of GrimmNel

Rating: M

Summary: Banished from his home for daring to rescue a human girl, Ichigo must now live out the rest of his days in isolation, cursed to look like a sea monster. Instead of a tail, he has eight tentacles, and where his skin used to clear, he now has the tattoos of a traitor. But when he sees yet another human in need of help, this one with pale skin and golden eyes, he cannot stop himself from rescuing him no matter the consequences to himself.

Notes: This story is based on an idea I had a little while ago! And it might get spicy in later chapters, I'm not sure yet, so the rating is going to stay at M! :)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42653445

[shiroxichigo]

For ShiroIchi Week Day 6!

Title: Broken Bonds

Rating: T

Summary: It had been half a year since the war with the Quincies had ended. Ichigo thought all of his troubles would finally be over the moment his Bankai cleaved Yhwach in half.

But he should have guessed that when one enemy fell, another would stand up to take his place.

After Ichigo finally defeated Yhwach, Aizen appeared in front of him and plunged his hand into Ichigo's chest. He ripped something out of it and then left through a Garganta. Ichigo fell to the ground, gasping for air, barely clinging to life in the middle of a ruined Soul Society.

It took him a few days to work out what Aizen had stolen from him. And now, Ichigo would stop at nothing to get it back.

Link:

[shiroxichigo]

Welcome to ShiroIchi Week Day 7!

No prompts today! It's a free for all!

Thank you for participating in ShiroIchi Week 2022!

Rules/Guidelines

AO3 Collection

ShiroIchi Discord Server

[shiroxichigo]

ShiroIchi Week 2020

This year ShiroIchi week will be October 18-24! The rules for participating are simple:

Must tag content appropriately (think potential triggers, etc)

Must rate content correctly (Teen, Mature, Explicit, etc)

Must be ShiroIchi (Hollow Ichigo x Ichigo)

You can write as much or as little as you wish, and you can draw whatever you like. So long as you tag/put warnings on your piece if it's NSFW or potentially triggering.

Reminder that tumblr no longer accepts NSFW pieces, so you may post a link to DeviantArt or AO3 and I will reblog it here!

Prompts:

18 - Mask

Literal or figurative? Think about their ever evolving mask... Or about the roles they play: does Ichigo wear the mask of the hero and Shiro wear the mask of the villain?

19 - Ancient

You can go AU with this prompt and look at medieval times, etc. Or think about how ancient and primal the war between Shinigami and Hollow is.

20 - Chess

Think about the different pieces on a chess board: the pawn, the knight, the King... Or maybe two strangers sit down to play chess and become friends? What conversation would they have?

21 - Chocolate

A Valentine's or Birthday gift? Ichigo's favourite flavour ;)

22 - Magic

Think Cacao Shiro/Desert Ichi from Bleach Brave Souls. Or tell a tale of a cursed prince?

23 - Instinct

The driving force of a warrior. Fight or flight? The instinct to protect or the instinct to destroy?

24 - No Shaking Throne

Shiro won't tolerate a weak King. How does Ichigo ensure his rule remains strong?

AO3 Collection can be found here!!

Discord Server is here!!

[shiroxichigo]

HichiIchi Week 2019: Oct. 13-19

Anyone can participate and the rules are super simple:

Can be a drawing/painting/video - anything you like! AU is acceptable as well! As long as it’s HichiIchi

Just post your creation on the appropriate day (for example, ‘Crown’ would be October 13th, ‘Sun and Moon’ is on the 14th, etc.)

I recommend tagging this blog or sharing your work to the HichiIchi discord server so you can get more views! https://discord.gg/dhA9M8j

Can’t do all the prompts? No problem! Gotta post a little early/late? No problem! This is a stress-free event, just have fun!

Day 1 (Oct. 13) - Crown

The internal struggle. The fight for the title of ‘King’. Do they share the crown, or can only one of them truly rule? There’s also the ever reliable Knight/King/Prince au that you could use for inspiration. ;)

Day 2 (Oct. 14) - Sun and Moon

How are Shiro and Ichigo different? How do they complement each other? Can one truly exist without the other?

Day 3 (Oct. 15) - Shakespeare

Ichigo’s passion. Shiro doesn’t get it... or can Ichigo help him to understand? What’s there to love about old books anyway? Also consider searching for a quote from one of Shakespeare’s works and drawing inspiration from that! :)

Day 4 (Oct. 16) - Rain

The symbol of Ichigo’s depression, and the bane of Shiro’s existence.

Day 5 (Oct. 17) - Sword

Why do they fight? What do they fight for? Think about their fighting techniques. Think about what makes their sword different from other Shinigami, and what makes them different from each other.

Day 6 (Oct. 18) - Empty

This is what Hollows feel. Do you believe Shiro feels this way? Is it possible that Ichigo feels this way too? Can it be filled?

Day 7 (Oct. 19) - White

Aizen’s experiment. The colour of Shiro’s skin, sword, hair, clothes... The bandages wrapped around Ichigo’s hilt. Is white the colour of purity and blessings, or the colour of death?

[shiroxichigo]

HichiIchi Week Day 3: Shakespeare

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown."

Honestly, I couldn't have written a better line for Ichigo myself. This just fit him so well! The poor sunshine boy... He deserves happiness, damn it!

Also long-haired Ichigo for the win... :3

[shiroxichigo]

HichiIchi Week 2019: AO3 Collection

Reminder that you can add your works to the HichiIchi Week 2019 collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HichiIchi_Week_2019

To add your work, type "HichiIchi_Week_2019" in the collections/challenges section when submitting your work to ao3!

If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to ask!

[shiroxichigo]

HichiIchi Week: Day 1 - Crown

Let’s kick-off day 1 with a good ol’ musing~! It’s a short fic, but I love how it turned out!

Enjoy! And Happy HichiIchi Week! <3

Rated: T (or 14+, the same as Bleach)

Summary: Ichigo's crown was crooked.

It frustrated Shiro that no one seemed to notice how crooked Ichigo’s crown was.

Or if they did notice, they didn't say anything about it, almost as if they were too embarrassed to be caught fussing over Ichigo's crown.

But there it sat upon his King's head. Crooked. Getting worse each day.

It was a wonder how the crown even stayed on Ichigo's head. It seemed like it was defying gravity, so tilted and yet so secure in its position.

But that was just for show. Shiro knew it. He had a feeling Ichigo knew it too. It wouldn't be long before the crown fell off.

No matter how many times Ichigo righted it, it still went lopsided. No matter how long Ichigo stared in the mirror, or how long he showered, or slept, or didn't sleep, or did homework, or fought hollows…

The crown always stayed crooked.

And one day, it finally fell.

The sound of the crown hitting the ground shocked Ichigo's friends. But were any of them really surprised? Shiro wondered. Did any of them really think that the crown would never fall?

And it fell hard. The gems shattered. The frame dented.

Ichigo dropped to his knees, and the silence that followed scared his friends more than anything.

And in their inner world, in Ichigo's kingdom, Shiro knelt down and picked up the broken crown.

The item he so desperately wanted. The power he craved. The position he longed for…

"Oi, King."

Ichigo turned tired eyes towards Shiro. It shocked Shiro how empty they were, void of the life that usually shone so brightly in Ichigo’s eyes.

Shiro gulped and held the crown towards Ichigo. "You should really take better care of this."

Ichigo started shaking. He frantically tried to climb to his feet, but couldn’t make it to knees without falling back to the ground. "I know, I know… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I promise, I’ll do better..."

Shiro shook his head and approached Ichigo. He knelt next to him, placed a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder and put the crown back on Ichigo's head.

"It's okay,” Shiro reassured, pulling his shaking King into his lap. “I'm gonna help ya. You don’t have to carry the weight of that thing alone."

[shiroxichigo]

HichiIchi Week Day 7: White

Rated: T

Summary: Yhwach was stealing Ichigo's powers... leaving behind a cold, empty nothingness in its place.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085154

Everything was turning white, getting washed away, taken…

Ichigo could feel his powers draining from his body, flooding through his veins like the cursed blood he had inherited from mother.

His mother… the powers he inherited from her were fading away.

Yhwach. He was taking his powers. He was taking them. Ossan. Shiro.

"I won't allow this."

What was clearly Old Man Zangetsu's voice, but eerily similar to Yhwach's all the same, broke through the white.

"Ichigo, I don't know how long I can resist him, but you need to break free from his hold."

Ichigo gulped and inhaled deep, painful breaths. "I… I can't…"

"Don't waste your energy speaking," Ossan continued. "You need to focus. Grasp at the source of your power and break free from his grip."

Ichigo closed his eyes and attempted to meditate. It was difficult with the pain burning through his body. As he sank deeper into his soul, he occasionally saw red flashing across his vision. With every flash came a sharp jab of pain. He knew it was a race at this point as to who could reach the centre of his soul faster: Yhwach or himself?

"King…"

Ichigo gasped and snapped his eyes wide open. All he could see was white.

"Ichigo… it hurts…"

Ichigo spun in circles. "Shiro!? Shiro, where are you!?"

"Ichigo, please…"

Ichigo stomped his foot on the ground. "Zangetsu!"

Black cracks formed in the white. Ichigo stomped his foot again. He could see blue underneath the cracks. He roared and raised his spiritual pressure, forcing the white to shatter and reveal his inner world underneath.

Ichigo's stomach dropped. He saw Yhwach holding Shiro by the throat, blue veins connecting the two. Ichigo felt sick with fear. The last person on earth he thought he'd see in such a vulnerable position was his Zanpakuto.

"Let him go," Ichigo spoke, faster than he realized he'd even said anything.

"You cannot stop this, Ichigo Kurosaki. This is your purpose."

"I said, let him go!" Ichigo snapped and lunged at Yhwach. He brought his sword down on the Quincy King, but his attack was deflected. His sword flew from his hand and landed on the other side of the skyscraper. At the same time, a hand wrapped around his throat.

"King…" Shiro wheezed.

Ichigo clawed at the hand around his throat. He wheezed for air as he was lifted off the ground.

"King, here…" Shiro reached for Ichigo's hand.

Ichigo felt Shiro's hand and gripped it tight. His other hand locked around Yhwach's wrist.

"Sword…" Shiro wheezed.

Ichigo glanced at his weapon, tossed off to the edge of a skyscraper. Ichigo's eyes began to roll back.

"No, King…" Shiro squeezed Ichigo's hand tighter. "Here…"

It suddenly clicked. Ichigo groaned, which turned into a desperate cry. Shiro vanished in a white light, and Ichigo found a white Zanpakuto in his hand instead. He roared and plunged his Zanpakuto into Yhwach's stomach.

Yhwach grabbed the blade. "You can't stop me…"

"Get out!" Ichigo screamed, his voice somewhat hoarse.

Yhwach smirked. "You can't get rid of me-"

"GET OUT!"

Yhwach shattered.

Ichigo dropped to his knees. He panted. He smirked at the white blade in his hand. "We got this… right, Zangetsu?"

There was no verbal answer, but Ichigo could feel Shiro's presence flare up and his power flow through his inner world. Ichigo sighed in relief. He no longer felt Yhwach invading his mind. Instead, that lonely white was replaced with a soothing light.

Ichigo sighed in relief. He could do this... They could do this. Yhwach didn't stand a chance.