A/N: I am so sorry it took a year (to the day, coincidentally enough) to finish this! I wanted to write more for them but lots of life got in the way, and I honestly forgot about this story. It wasn't until I lost my job two months ago and started reading fanfic again (seems to only occur in times of grief, lol) that I remembered! Apologies if it seems rushed and/or epilogue like, but I thought it best to sort of just wrap everything up. Maybe I'll write more for them one day, but for now my energies are focused on my original writing which can be more of a service to me. I'll still try to write some things on here; if for no other reason than in defiance of the quality of fanfic I've encountered on here lately... Anyway! Thank you to all who followed and favorite this story! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion. All the best! :) –Mal

Despite their appearance, the wounds healed in less time than anticipated, to the relief of all parties involved. Ichigo dropped the charade of his tutoring which appeased Grimmjow and the team, and made it appear as though all had reverted to normal. He did it in the name of Hanataro's well being, unable to see him marred in such a way again, put at risk so needlessly. It shamed him to ignore the the smaller boy in school, but only a few months remained until such pretense would be rendered unnecessary. He could hardly believe he had a boyfriend, especially one so ideal. While Ichigo had long come to terms with his sexuality, he never attempted relationships. He wasn't a virgin by any means; someone in his position had ample opportunity. Yet it had all been so... hollow. Pleasurable, yes, in those all too fleeting moments of orgasmic bliss, but that's all. He was glad for the chance to explore, to improve his confidence at a rather daunting act. Something was still missing–and as he got to know Hanataro better, he realized what that was. It's like attempting a grand jigsaw puzzle, and you're so close to completing the picture: a vision of a sunset or the cosmos or something equally as vast and dazzling. Only you're a couple pieces short of its fulfillment, and thus it isn't as lovely as it could, and should, be. He loved men, he loved having sex with them. But he'd never loved a man. And he could see something wonderful for the two of them. Not just a secondary school dalliance, but a is what Ichigo thought. Hanataro, however, began with increasing dread to prepare himself for Ichigo's inevitable departure–from the town, and his life.

He regretted that moment of weakness, admitting under not a small amount of duress his true feelings. In that brief instance of what was quite actually courage of a scale he had never managed, he felt such a lightness, only to be surmounted by the sensation of Ichigo kissing him for the first time. After that passed, though, he was left with reality, the futility of their situation. He did his best to hide it, like always shielding his darker emotions from the few who cared. Their time together was minimal and thus precious, so he wished to spare Ichigo the sufferance of his doubts. These clandestine meetings occurred at the Kurosaki home under the permitting pall night. Hanataro had told his mother that while Ichigo no longer needed his services, they had become friends. This eased Retsu's worry in regard to her son's solitude, and she allowed him to freely spend as much time with him as much as he liked–so long as it didn't interfere with his studies. The Kurosaki family had taken a shining to Hanataro, and welcomed his continued presence.

While his boyfriend's household knew the truth behind their relationship, his mother did not. It wasn't as though he thought Retsu wouldn't accept him, or would treat him any differently. But, there was something about admitting it that made it all the more real, and thus eventually painful. The fewer who knew, the lesser the impact once Ichigo left. Because that was the state of things, wasn't it? He had played out all the scenarios in his mind, or so he thought. While they had discussed his ambivalence to future prospects before, there was no reason Ichigo couldn't win admission into a top tier school and earn considerable scholarships for his athletics. He had great things ahead of him, someone so good hearted and generous and capable and just stop thinking about it! As Hanataro lay in his bed, unable to slumber, he replayed their farewell over and over. He tried to paint Ichigo as cold and cruel as possible, which proved difficult. But if he expected the worst he couldn't be destroyed. If he broke his heart first it couldn't be broken. Or so he thought.

The progress of their relationship physically had been slow, at Hanataro's behest. He was not used to such treatment, such feelings, so alarmingly passionate and doomed. They kissed, at first chaste and furtive. These quickly grew bolder, longer, more insisting. They learned the shaped of each other's mouths, the thickness of their tongues, the pleasing hardness of their teeth–a private language only known to them that they sought to master. Kisses began to trail. With an impressive amount of restraint did Ichigo succeed in attending Hanataro's supple neck without marks of possession. Hands began to trail as well, down the warm slopes of backs, along the quivering seas of thighs, across heaving ribs that were like rows of braille. Hanataro cried innocence, but it was truly fear. He feared craving the other's touch too much, submitting too much of himself to an ownership that would be all too brief. And yet against his better judgement (or so he thought), within Ichigo's eyes and artful caresses he witnessed a terrifying glimpse of the promise of eternity. It was in a moment such as this, as Hanataro sat between Ichigo's legs, his own snaked about that strong body, slowly losing himself in a languidly ardent kiss while Ichigo clutched the small swale of his lower back, that he began to cry. Oh god, no, why now... The older boy felt the tell tale moistness against his cheek, and started.

"Hana...! What's wrong? Was I too forward? I thought we were doing okay..."

"No... it's nothing. I'm sorry."

Ichigo looked into his lover's eyes and recalled the darkness that swept across them during that early moment of their getting to know each other. He let it go then, but he wouldn't now.

"Hey... I'm your boyfriend, ya'kno. I'm not good for much if ya can't talk to me." He smiled earnestly, hoping to diffuse the tension. He could feel Hanataro trembling slightly in his hold. It happened maybe once or twice before, and Ichigo had attributed it to nerves. But now he wondered if something more serious were lurking behind his love's usually so placid eyes.

"I must have just gotten overwhelmed..."

"Please, Hana. I know that look. You're struggling with something. I would never make you tell me but... I'm here. I care. I want to help, if you'll let me."

"That's it, though..."

"What is?"

"N-Never mind, please..." He felt as though he'd cry if he misspoke, if Ichigo proved any more tender and understanding. He must hate me... A perfectly sharp knife twisted in his gut. "I um...I have to go, it's late. I have a test tomorrow. Please, don't worry. I'll see you soon." Hanataro endeavored to sound as resolute and believable as possible, adjusting his clothes and donning his discarded hoodie once again. In breeze of movement, he left the room he had already grown too fond of, wanting an exit before his boyfriend could offer a word.

Ichigo remained sitting on his bed, dumbfounded, before noticing a glint in the corner of his eye. Hana's keys... he won't be able to get in. He hurriedly put on some shoes and grabbed a jacket before heading out. Isshin met him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Was that Hanataro? He took off like a bat out of hell!"

"I know... he forgot his keys. I have to catch up with him."

"Somethin' happen Ichi?"

"That's what I wanna know..."

Hanataro was many things, but one of those was definitely not an athlete. While he had managed an impressive pace for a minute or two, he quickly began to tire, due to both his lack of physical mastery, and his emotional state. Stupid stupid stupid! I couldn't just hold it together! Now everything is ruined... How do I recover from this? I can't just say something got caught in my eye! The thought of breaking up with Ichigo was more than he could bear, but it seemed almost like the right thing to do. He can do so much better... I'm just... what? A dumb boy scared of everything who for some reason thinks he can be a nurse... for what? To help people? You can't even help yourself... As he approached his home, rummaged in his pocket, then all of his pockets, only to find he'd left his keys. Stupid...

"Thought you might be needing these."

He turned quickly upon hearing that deep, rousing voice of Ichigo's. "O-Oh, right. Sorry I inconvenienced you."

"'s no problem, you know that. I'm... kinda glad actually. Because, well. You didn't really give me a chance to say anything–n don't say sorry!"

"S-...mm, yeah, you're right. I..."

"Look, I'm not like an emotional wizard, and I'm not the best at advice. But you're important to me. And I can't just turn a blind eye to you when you're going through... whatever this is. Grimmjow bothering you again?"

"No! It's not that."

"Cuz you know I'll lay him flat if he has."

"Don't worry, he hasn't." Hanataro was oddly soothed by this declaration of defense, and amused. Ichigo looked so cute riled up. Stop it!

"Well... I know it can't be grades or anything since you're like, a boy genius. And your mom is basically a saint. So... that makes me wonder if it ain't me?"

"Ichigo..."

"Have I been moving too fast? I'm really sorry if I have been, it's just, well... You're kinda hard to not ravage."

This caused the dark haired boy to blush, "N-No! You've been perfect."

"Are you... not happy, then?" Ichigo led his Hana to the porch, encouraging him to sit.

"I'm... very happy. Too happy, maybe."

"Ha, no such thing." This earned him a kiss to the cheek from Ichigo. "Then... well, I'm sorry kid but ya gonna have to give me a hint here."

"You'll hate me..."

"Not gonna happen."

"But––"

"There aren't many things I'm certain of, but that's one of them. You can tell me anything, Hana. No judgment."

"Another time, okay?"

"Hanataro..."

"Please?"

Ichigo didn't want to press the issue too far. He knew that for most of his life Hanataro kept everything bottled inside, and that he wouldn't just open up on the spot. Nonetheless, his worries hadn't been assuaged. His protective instincts were telling him at once to continue and to desist. He decided to err on the side of caution. "All right. But we're gonna talk about this. Seeing you cry is the pits."

"Ha, okay. I promise." Is that a lie?

"Good night, babe. Sleep well." A quick kiss and Ichigo rose, taking a last look. Hanataro appeared some otherworldly creature like this, caught up in moonlight–his eyes faintly bleary from crying, his skin like eggshells or cream, his hair a dark but nonetheless lovely crown adoring it all. Fuck, I'm in deep.

"Good night." Hanataro smiled softly, observing the sombre, lingering gaze, then Ichigo's lithe form as it was slowly but surely obscured by the night. Taking note of it, emblazoning it on his memory's shore. Goodbye.

For it was a lie, after all. They didn't speak of it, Hanataro made sure. He didn't want to saddle Ichigo with that guilt, didn't want to impede him in any manner. They were beautiful words he spoke, yes. But words do not last. You cannot build a house on them. They are grains of sand at the ocean's unrelenting mercy. He had always been alone, and he had gotten by. Letting Ichigo in only proved to dismantle his halcyon, no matter how lonely it was. Now he hurt, now he longed, now he mourned the loss of a dream that could never dawn. He ignored Ichigo's texts, calls, which grew in frequency and alarm. At school Ichigo was bound to his heterosexual stage play, so he was safe there. He could feel the weight of his stare, though. The silent accusation: why? I don't know! Hanataro wanted to scream in reply at Ichigo, at everyone. Because I'm afraid! Are you happy? But no sound came; he kept his eyes low. Then the calls and texts stopped. It was both a relief and a torture. Of course he gave up, why wouldn't he? I'm no one, after all. Or so he thought.

Graduation day came, at odious last. Hanataro briefly entertained the notion of attending, if for no other reason than to steal one last look of Ichigo in all his glory. He knew he wouldn't. He knew he'd stay shut in his room and fall to pieces. He slept in, as late as his body would allow, wretched slants of afternoon light from the blinds draping across his unmoving body. When he couldn't maintain the farce of sleep any longer, he rose, showered, attempted to eat, couldn't, and went back to his room. He was grateful his mother kept such a busy schedule, she wouldn't have to witness this. Trying to study proved useless, as did watching his usual shows. He could only lay there, existential dread creeping into every pore. And as the day's death hung in the window, its last shards of life draping across his unmoving body, he was stunned to hear the door bell ring. Perhaps a package for mother, he thought, ambling poorly down the stairs. Once he opened the door, however, his face quickly froze in shock, as did his heart. For there stood Ichigo, still dressed nicely from the ceremony, only missing cap and gown. Not as cold and cruel as he imagined, more hurt. Though the image didn't fail in rending Hanataro's insides. Brows knotted, eyes burning, knuckles white, Ichigo stood imperious.

"You didn't come."

"No..."

"I looked for you, ya'kno. It was dumb, I guess. But I kept gazing out into the crowd hoping to catch sight of you."

"S-"

"Don't say it. Please. Just... tell me why. Not just today, but everything. I figured you couldn't ignore a person at the door, at least if I had the element of surprise."

"Ichigo, I..."

"Can I come in?"

"...y-yeah, of course." Hanataro somehow made his neurons fire, and moved aside allowing Ichigo to enter. He couldn't raise his eyes, however.

"Never been in here before," Ichigo ventured, taking stock of his surroundings. "Nice home."

"Thank you."

Neither knew what to do. A gulf of emotions lay in the room between them, both unsure of their footing as how to meet in the middle.

"Um, we can go to my room, this way..." Hanataro spoke with a near funeral hush, preparing for the worst. He deserved it, certainly. He'd been awful. But he had done the right thing though, hadn't he? Why did the road of mercy seem so much more akin to the Via Dolorosa, then? As they ascended the stairs and made their way to his room, they were enveloped in an oppressive quiet, only the padded sounds of their steps. Once Hanataro closed the door, he found himself rather forcefully pinned against it, the tears in Ichigo's eyes wounding him all the more.

"Fucking why, Hana?! I don't get it! We were... we were so happy! We were just starting, you told me you were happy! Did you lie?!"

"No! I didn't!"

"How can I believe you? You cut me out! Without a word!"

"I know, I–"

"I'm not done. Before you make your defense, listen. God knows you wouldn't before." Ichigo let up on his hold of Hanataro, but kept him in place, as if he feared the slighter one might somehow flee. "I never had a boyfriend before you. Not even close. I really wanted to feel what all my friends were feeling. Love, desire, being close with someone in that special way. But I was gay n that was fucking impossible at school n there wasn't anyone who... Until I saw you. I don't know what it was, but you had this quality about you... You were like a mystery, kinda. One I wanted to solve. You spoke to no one, you moved about like a ghost. You were smarter than almost everyone, but weren't a brag. I'd catch you looking at me n I'd wonder why. You were so goddamn afraid. So I asked you to tutor me even though I didn't need it because I didn't know how else to approach you, how to have us interact in a way that wouldn't scare you off or feed us to the lions. Then I found out you were amazing. Tender, considerate, ambitious but humble, always seeing good in things. Except yourself." Ichigo grew more and more quiet, before sinking down to stare Hanataro eye to eye. "I fell for you. I thought you fell for me too. But then you ran, literally and figuratively. And I fucking wanna know why, Hanataro. You owe me that."

His voice was barely a whisper, "I didn't want you to leave..."

"Huh, I can't–"

"I didn't want you to leave!" Hanataro surprised himself at loudness of his voice, and spoke in a spatter through the tears. "I didn't want you to leave Ichigo! I knew you'd leave here, but I'd have to remain. You'd move on. You'd forget about me. Because that's what always happens... Because you are amazing at everything and can do anything and everyone worships you! Your teammates, the school, your sisters, everyone. Because you are everything I wished I could be but can't! I didn't want to leave you...I didn't, believe me. I was happy. Happier than I have ever been in my life. But I thought... I thought you'd be better off, without me. Because I can only hold you back..."

Ichigo watched as Hanataro tore himself apart, his tears not relenting, and the impulse he immediately felt was to laugh; he did. "Oh my god, Hana. For someone so smart you're such an idiot."

"W-What...?"

"It didn't occur to you that everything I wanted," Ichigo stuck an insisting finger on Hanataro's heart, "was right here, with you?"

Hanataro couldn't find the words. He had thought... he had thought...

"Hana..." Ichigo drew his boyfriend close, sitting on the floor, against the wall. "I'm flattered you think all those things of me. And I guess you're kinda right. I could go off to school, do sports, get some degree, find a job, settle down, the whole nine yards. But that's not what I want. Not at all. And if you had talked to me when I asked you would have known that, silly." He ruffled the boy's raven hair, showing that the anger was over. "If you had talked to me, I would have told you that yes I was applying to college. Here. That I was gonna get a job to save up so we can have a place eventually. That once you graduated you could go to school here too, and intern with my dad. I've never had huge dreams, Hana. I've led a pretty simple life, that's how I like it. I found you. And, being one hundred percent gushy honest, that's all I wanted. My family loves you. I love you. And if you want it too, I think we could have a happy life together. I know we're young, but when I kissed you that first time, I was pretty sure I knew you were the one for me."

He had thought... and he was wrong. Everything he had construed to fail, didn't. Every dark thought, every lost hope, every false assumption, was wrong. Ichigo loved him, wanted to be with him, wanted a life with him. "Ichigo... yes, I want it too. Believe me, I do. I'm so sorry... I love you so much. I know what I did–"

"Shh, Hana. That's all I need to know."

Outside, maple leave stirred in the nightly wind, waltzing beneath a moon full to bursting.

Ichigo and Hanataro were free.