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What are you doing?

Hitsugaya immediately snapped his notebook shut. He didn t catch his pen in time and it clattered through the slats of the park bench he was sitting on. Thecaptain cursed quietly.

He tried to glare upwards at the person who disturbed him, but the sun stabbed athis eyes so his glare turned into a squint. Nevertheless, he recognised his

boyfriend s lazy, drawling tones. That bright orange head of hair was also a dead giveaway.

Do you mind, Kurosaki?

No. Ichigo plopped himself down on the bench next to Hitsugaya, much to the boy s annoyance. And don t say Kurosaki, call me Ichigo. We are going out, he said pointedly.

Going to arcades with Abarai-fukutaichou and Ikkaku Madarame does not qualify as going out, Hitsugaya shot back. He scrabbled for his pen, grabbed it, then settled himself comfortably again. No wonder no girl will have you, you don t even know what having a date is.

Way to change the subject, Toushirou. What re you doing in that notebook? Lemme see.

Go away.

C mon. Ichigo bent his long frame over Hitsugaya and tried to pry the notebook out from beneath the captain s tightly curled body. Hitsugaya for his part tried to ignore the teen s hot breath on the back of neck.

You drawing porn? In public? Are you? Is that why you don t-

Don t be stupid, Hitsugaya hissed, straightening. Ichigo wormed the notebook

free with some effort: for someone so tiny Hitsugaya packed a lot of strength. Thesubstitute shinigami flipped it open, keeping one hand free to fend the captainoff.

The notebook was small, blue (predictably, Hitsugaya seemed to like that colour),a little dog-eared. Ichigo flipped some pages. Most seemed to be mission noteswritten in some kind of weird code. But here and there were small sketches anddoodles, both of fantasy and every day life: flowerpots, shoes, children, houses,dragons in the sky. Dragons seem to feature a lot; some were obviously ofHyourinmaru, rendered in patient loving detail. Ichigo stared in frankfascination.

Not bad, he said slowly, leafing through the worn pages. I didn t know you were

such an artist, Toushirou.

It s only a hobby, the boy grumbled. He was picking at his sneaker. Not even that. It s just a distraction. Nothing more.

Hey, shut up. This stuff is really good. Better then the crap Rukia comes up with. Ichigo flipped some more. Haha, you got Yachiru chewing on Ikkaku s head!

Hitsugaya s small mouth quirked. I m glad you like it.

I m glad you re glad. The teen took a moment to nuzzle the boy s white hair. I

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guess you re full of hidden talents, huh? Did you show Matsusmoto any of this?

No. She d probably go crazy and buy some paints and crayolas or something, the taichou grumbled. It s private, Kurosaki

Hm. Ichigo turned a few more pages. The drawings grew older and more unfamiliar as he went back, more hesitant and childish. Most of it seemed to be landscapes:the shanty towns of Rukongai, the wastes and fields and barren rocks. There was

always some view that seemed to be taken from a hill, looking down across theplains.

You like high places? he queried.

I suppose. Hitsugaya glared at a couple on the next bench who were kissing. I just prefer high, remote areas the air is colder

Now the pages showed wintry landscapes. Most were barren except for shrivelledtrees. The black hard lines stretched to the horizon where a winter sun set.Ichigo frowned: looking at these bleak images made coldness trickle down hisspine.

Here was a white plain, a double spread across both pages. The sky looked sullenand grey. Clouds scudded across the dome of the sky, forming strange, twistingserpentine shapes. Ichigo read the faded characters scratched at the bottom.

I dream of a plain of ice.

Ichigo blinked. For a moment, he d heard Hitsugaya s voice piping in his head. He read on.

White, soulless, stretching to infinity.

The summer sun seemed very distant now.

But something moves here. Something moves behind the sky, behind my thoughts anddreams.

I hear a voice...

Reverberating across the plain, speaking in the sound of thunder.

Crushing. Resounding. Unending.

Ichigo turned the page.

On that plain of ice, I die.

He shut the book.

Hitsugaya came wandering over (Ichigo hadn t even noticed he d left) licking an ice cream cone. He handed another to the teenager.

Find anything interesting?

Uh yeah. Ichigo took his cone and regarded his boyfriend carefully. Hitsugaya stared back, a little sulkily, with his cold turquoise eyes. Eyes that gazed backfrom across centuries.

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What?

Nothing. Ichigo set down his cone and pulled the boy onto his lap. Hitsugaya huffed and wriggled and complained that people would see, but the ryoka ignoredhim and instead put his face in the captain s small pale neck. The skin was warm, the blood beneath the same.

What are you doing? The boy twisted his head.

Making sure you re not entirely made of ice. Ichigo licked at the sweet vanilla taste on Hitsugaya s cheek. The chill settled like snowflakes on his tongue.

Of course not. Don t be stupid.

Oh really?

You can be amazingly thick, Kurosaki. Hitsugaya twisted around and put his nose against Ichigo s. After all, I m with you: and ice isn t usually drawn to fire, is it?

Not unless it melts. Ichigo kissed him lightly and the other responded.

Baka, the boy muttered, pulling away after a minute. Sometimes I don t know why I m doing this

Cuz it just feels right? Ichigo suggested. He pulled the small form back to him.

They stayed like that awhile, letting the summer warmth soak into their skins.Their ice cream melted, but the boys took no notice.

-end-