Prologue: A Morning Unlike Any Other
"You sure you want to do this?," her feline grin was still on that tanned faced of hers, as the onsen around them steamed up just that little bit more, "'Cause I have to tell you, Ichigo," she traced a finger in circles on his bare chest, making him shiver in anticipation, back pressed against the stone walls of the pool, "I'm not your usual Sunday special."
"That you ain't." the orange-haired young man encircled his arms around her curvy and very lithe form, bringing the woman in closer, purring in delight. "But I got to tell ya, little kitty," He thanked his only experience with porno, "I'm no couch lover either." he finally whispered into her awaiting ear, earning just that extra zest, before blowing against her neck (again, he thanked the porn). "Or did you already know that?"
Shihouin Yoruichi closed in on him, and all at once he forgot of the world around him, giving in to pleasure, to bliss and ignorance, giving with all his being...
To her...
/-/-/
Ichigo woke up with a smile (A rare occurence, indeed). No father shouting. No bossy little sisters shaking him to wake up, and most importantly, no Hollow.
And then he noticed his boxers.
Dammit; laundry day was yesterday.
/-/-/
"Morning, Ichi-niisan!" Yuzu greeted him with a smile, walking across from the kitchen to the table, a piping hot tray of steamed corn and butter in her hands, smelling as delicious as ever. "we're having some western today, if you don't mind." she inficated the tray. Ichigo's mouth fought the drool back.
"Nah, I don't mind." It was a welcome change to the Japan-themed meals that they had been having over the past month or so. He stretched a bit, taking a seat right next to his blak-haired sister, who was at the moment, munching on a piece of toast and glaring gaping holes into a newspaper article that was beside her. Same old temperamental-as-always-Karin. "Eh? Karin, where's the old man?"
"There." she jabbed a thumb to her right, prompting Ichigo to have a look, causing him to cringe. There he was, the patriarch of the Kurosaki, pitifully gagged and stuffed into a sack that hung from the ceiling with only his head sticking out, struggling to be free of his bonds and join his family for a glorious breakfast "He began sleep-singing again last night." Yuzu poured them tea, of which Karin took a sip, before looking at her brother. "I'm surprised you didn't shut him up."
Her touch, sinuous and exotic, making him reach heights he never knew...
"I slept like a log." he simply said, taking a sip from his own cup, "Nice night, pillow was soft, bed was all good." one more sip, "Slept like a log, Karin."
His eyes didn't meet his sister's. Like HELL if he was going to say ANYTHING that - !
Karin smirked.
"Laundry day was yesterday."
/-/-/
One day, Ichigo stomped up to his bedroom, just one day, Karin, I'll...
Karin just knew the right buttons to push now, didn't she? To her, Ichigo was practically an open book. What next? Finding out that he was a Shinigami? Hah, as if that could happen. He was sure of the masking of his own identity, of his exploits; there would be no way, other than the explanation his temperamental sister was a super spirit detective of sorts that she would find out about his secret!
Yeah, well, he scratched the left side of his cheek a little, She's smarter than we give her credit for, but calling her own brother a Shinigami, that's be like a cheesy storyline for a manga; Karin's way too realistic to jump on that."
Of course, Karin could see ghosts, just as he could. That was anything but normal.
Stopping himself from thinking too much about getting caught red-handed by his own sister and the topics that had jacked their way into that particular discussion, Ichigo went to his door, correcting the crooked digit on the thing just a bit, before opening it... revealing the object of his dreams sitting cross-legged on his bed.
Shihouin Yoruichi, clad in her orange and purple garb, had her arms crossed too, in her human form, tanned face and all, a stoic expression sitting upon her pretty face on the spot he had slept on earlier. However, despite the familiar appearance of his one-time teacher, he noticed that something was very... off with her.
For one, the cheerful energy that she seemed to radiate was all but gone, setting the mood for the atmosphere. Her face looked... dare he say it? Much more mature than he remembered, but still the same beauty all the same. However, the most prominent change in the tanned lass' appearance was the lack of a ponytail, her hair dropping down in those locks that he remembered the first time she showed him her true form, albeit slightly more tidy this time, compared to then.
"Morning Ichigo," she greeted, she gave a smile (A strained one), "you well?"
He gulped down a bit, trying to make sure he didn't say anything stupid.
"Y-Yeah, I guess. Just woke up and all, had a nice breakfast, comfortable sleep..."
Seeing you...
"Hm," she showed her sharp canines to him with another bug fake one, plastared right on her face. Something... was amiss. "looks like the start to a good day."
"I guess..."
Alright, now this was getting a bit strange. And his patience was wearing thin.
"Good then," she said with yet another smile, "So, um... Urahara told me that - "
"You didn't come here to ask me about small stuff, Yoruichi-san," he cut her off and crossed his arms over his chest, growing the least bit peeved at the tanned woman's tactics. "You're fidgeting. And you never call Geta-Boshi Urahara from what I've seen. Something's up; what is it? You got news on that Aizen guy?"
"No, not yet I'm afraid." she shook her head, "Nothing at all on that front."
There was a moment of silence; not one of them said a thing. The atmosphere began to grow tense, and Ichigo was sure that if Zangetsu were in his hands he'd be able to cleave right through the thickness. Yoruichi... Yoruichi was just there, neither dead as a doornail nor as alive and active as she always was. She was... just there, as though, contemplating something in the recesses of her mind.
And then she knocked him over with a dash, crying out in the open for since God knew when. Ichigo's now-sore back took a second seat to the bronze beauty's sudden action. She was... clinging to him. At least, that was what he could make out, in all his shock. The scene of Yoruichi clutching him and crying into his t-shirt... was still a confusing and very unexpected sight, and he didn't know what to make of it. He'd never had a girl bawling into his chest before (Except for Tatsuki)!
"Y-Yoruichi-san?"
He hesitantly held her by the shoulders, still very clueless.
Yoruichi, the Goddess of Flash... was crying. On his chest. And he had no clue, slight or tangible, at why this was the case.
That is, until she said his name.
"Ichigo..." she looked up at him with tear-ridden golden eyes, nothing but the utmost seriousness reflected in them. He began to shiver just a bit; Yoruichi had never been as serious as this, even back when they were pushing him to his bare limits in Soul Society.
In more ways than one...
Good times, good times.
Golden feline slits met his patient, brown and inexperienced wide eyes.
"I'm pregnant."
/-/END PROLOGUE/-/
"You sure you want to do this?," her feline grin was still on that tanned faced of hers, as the onsen around them steamed up just that little bit more, "'Cause I have to tell you, Ichigo," she traced a finger in circles on his bare chest, making him shiver in anticipation, back pressed against the stone walls of the pool, "I'm not your usual Sunday special."
"That you ain't." the orange-haired young man encircled his arms around her curvy and very lithe form, bringing the woman in closer, purring in delight. "But I got to tell ya, little kitty," He thanked his only experience with porno, "I'm no couch lover either." he finally whispered into her awaiting ear, earning just that extra zest, before blowing against her neck (again, he thanked the porn). "Or did you already know that?"
Shihouin Yoruichi closed in on him, and all at once he forgot of the world around him, giving in to pleasure, to bliss and ignorance, giving with all his being...
To her...
/-/-/
Ichigo woke up with a smile (A rare occurence, indeed). No father shouting. No bossy little sisters shaking him to wake up, and most importantly, no Hollow.
And then he noticed his boxers.
Dammit; laundry day was yesterday.
/-/-/
"Morning, Ichi-niisan!" Yuzu greeted him with a smile, walking across from the kitchen to the table, a piping hot tray of steamed corn and butter in her hands, smelling as delicious as ever. "we're having some western today, if you don't mind." she inficated the tray. Ichigo's mouth fought the drool back.
"Nah, I don't mind." It was a welcome change to the Japan-themed meals that they had been having over the past month or so. He stretched a bit, taking a seat right next to his blak-haired sister, who was at the moment, munching on a piece of toast and glaring gaping holes into a newspaper article that was beside her. Same old temperamental-as-always-Karin. "Eh? Karin, where's the old man?"
"There." she jabbed a thumb to her right, prompting Ichigo to have a look, causing him to cringe. There he was, the patriarch of the Kurosaki, pitifully gagged and stuffed into a sack that hung from the ceiling with only his head sticking out, struggling to be free of his bonds and join his family for a glorious breakfast "He began sleep-singing again last night." Yuzu poured them tea, of which Karin took a sip, before looking at her brother. "I'm surprised you didn't shut him up."
Her touch, sinuous and exotic, making him reach heights he never knew...
"I slept like a log." he simply said, taking a sip from his own cup, "Nice night, pillow was soft, bed was all good." one more sip, "Slept like a log, Karin."
His eyes didn't meet his sister's. Like HELL if he was going to say ANYTHING that - !
Karin smirked.
"Laundry day was yesterday."
/-/-/
One day, Ichigo stomped up to his bedroom, just one day, Karin, I'll...
Karin just knew the right buttons to push now, didn't she? To her, Ichigo was practically an open book. What next? Finding out that he was a Shinigami? Hah, as if that could happen. He was sure of the masking of his own identity, of his exploits; there would be no way, other than the explanation his temperamental sister was a super spirit detective of sorts that she would find out about his secret!
Yeah, well, he scratched the left side of his cheek a little, She's smarter than we give her credit for, but calling her own brother a Shinigami, that's be like a cheesy storyline for a manga; Karin's way too realistic to jump on that."
Of course, Karin could see ghosts, just as he could. That was anything but normal.
Stopping himself from thinking too much about getting caught red-handed by his own sister and the topics that had jacked their way into that particular discussion, Ichigo went to his door, correcting the crooked digit on the thing just a bit, before opening it... revealing the object of his dreams sitting cross-legged on his bed.
Shihouin Yoruichi, clad in her orange and purple garb, had her arms crossed too, in her human form, tanned face and all, a stoic expression sitting upon her pretty face on the spot he had slept on earlier. However, despite the familiar appearance of his one-time teacher, he noticed that something was very... off with her.
For one, the cheerful energy that she seemed to radiate was all but gone, setting the mood for the atmosphere. Her face looked... dare he say it? Much more mature than he remembered, but still the same beauty all the same. However, the most prominent change in the tanned lass' appearance was the lack of a ponytail, her hair dropping down in those locks that he remembered the first time she showed him her true form, albeit slightly more tidy this time, compared to then.
"Morning Ichigo," she greeted, she gave a smile (A strained one), "you well?"
He gulped down a bit, trying to make sure he didn't say anything stupid.
"Y-Yeah, I guess. Just woke up and all, had a nice breakfast, comfortable sleep..."
Seeing you...
"Hm," she showed her sharp canines to him with another bug fake one, plastared right on her face. Something... was amiss. "looks like the start to a good day."
"I guess..."
Alright, now this was getting a bit strange. And his patience was wearing thin.
"Good then," she said with yet another smile, "So, um... Urahara told me that - "
"You didn't come here to ask me about small stuff, Yoruichi-san," he cut her off and crossed his arms over his chest, growing the least bit peeved at the tanned woman's tactics. "You're fidgeting. And you never call Geta-Boshi Urahara from what I've seen. Something's up; what is it? You got news on that Aizen guy?"
"No, not yet I'm afraid." she shook her head, "Nothing at all on that front."
There was a moment of silence; not one of them said a thing. The atmosphere began to grow tense, and Ichigo was sure that if Zangetsu were in his hands he'd be able to cleave right through the thickness. Yoruichi... Yoruichi was just there, neither dead as a doornail nor as alive and active as she always was. She was... just there, as though, contemplating something in the recesses of her mind.
And then she knocked him over with a dash, crying out in the open for since God knew when. Ichigo's now-sore back took a second seat to the bronze beauty's sudden action. She was... clinging to him. At least, that was what he could make out, in all his shock. The scene of Yoruichi clutching him and crying into his t-shirt... was still a confusing and very unexpected sight, and he didn't know what to make of it. He'd never had a girl bawling into his chest before (Except for Tatsuki)!
"Y-Yoruichi-san?"
He hesitantly held her by the shoulders, still very clueless.
Yoruichi, the Goddess of Flash... was crying. On his chest. And he had no clue, slight or tangible, at why this was the case.
That is, until she said his name.
"Ichigo..." she looked up at him with tear-ridden golden eyes, nothing but the utmost seriousness reflected in them. He began to shiver just a bit; Yoruichi had never been as serious as this, even back when they were pushing him to his bare limits in Soul Society.
In more ways than one...
Good times, good times.
Golden feline slits met his patient, brown and inexperienced wide eyes.
"I'm pregnant."
/-/END PROLOGUE/-/