Song Inspiration: Jaiden & Boyinaband - Empty

Chapter One

The Incident

It started after he lost his powers. At least, what led to the incident was the depression that had set in after he lost his powers. Ichigo Kurosaki didn't tell anyone how he was feeling, mostly because he felt like he should be able to handle things on his own. He just took it and bottled it up and put it away. He'd stopped having motivation for much of anything, though. His grades became average, and he didn't put in any extra effort. He decided to stay away from Inoue, Ishida, and Chad. The memories were too painful and fresh there. They left him alone like he wanted. Unfortunately, this distance made his depression worse and he ended up doing nothing. He would spend hours sitting in his room staring out the window, sometimes imagining that he could see Rukia or Renji coming through to visit him.

Perhaps the first indications of how things were going to go started then. Ichigo began to have an odd relationship with food. He would eat, then afterward, he would just feel emptier than he began. He just felt hollow; as hollow as the Arrancar he'd fought. So, sometimes he would eat more to try and make the feeling go away. Instead, it did nothing. It was a numbness that had spread out through his life. He didn't talk to anyone, but he knew that his father probably realized something was going on. He had that confirmed the night it happened.

"Son," Isshin said after putting away the dinner dishes that night. "We need to talk."

Ichigo looked up, curious as to what his father wanted to talk to him about, especially after both the girls were gone up to their room for the night. "Yeah?"

"You have been having a hard time," Isshin pointed out, looking at him sadly as he sat back down at the table.

"What do you mean? I'm fine," he said, trying not to let his face show the surprise he felt at being possibly found out.

Isshin just sighed. "Son, I've seen it. You aren't leaving the house. You barely leave your room, and you don't interact with your friends at all anymore."

Ichigo stared at him, not sure what to say in response to that. Everything was true, of course, so how could he deny it. "And?" he asked, deciding to take a bit of an attitude toward it in hopes his father would leave it alone.

"And it's not normal, son. You used to go out and do things. You used to go have fun with your friends. You're seventeen. You should be doing all sorts of things these days even if school isn't your priority. Are you depressed?" he asked, sighing. "It's okay if you are, that's okay. There's no reason to feel bad about it."

"Why do you say that? What do you think?" he snapped, starting to get scared that he would be found out for sure.

"You have lost more than most humans can ever understand. I know it is hard to go back to a normal life after having the powers of a Shinigami—"

"But you got yours back!" he said before he thought better of it. He gasped a little and looked away.

"Is that why you don't want to see Inoue and Chad? Is that why you won't answer Ishida's calls?" he asked.

Ichigo looked at his phone where it laid on the table as though it had betrayed him. "How would you know that?"

"I looked at the phone records. I'm sorry, but I wanted to know if you were communicating with anyone else and—"

"So, you just go and go through my phone records instead of just asking me?" he interrupted. It actually made him quite angry. "That's private! That's not your business!"

Isshin nodded. "I know, son, I shouldn't have done it, but you have to understand, I'm worried—"

"Worried? You are worried? Then why didn't you say something? Why didn't you come to me with it? Why couldn't you just ask me like a normal person? What else have you been snooping around in my life about?" he picked up the phone and clutched it tightly in his hand.

"Nothing, son, I promise. I just looked at the phone rec—"

"That's enough!" Ichigo said, standing up. Isshin looked up at him. "I'm going out since you don't think I leave the house enough. Are you happy if I leave it now?"

"Son, no, please, don't leave like that. Don't leave angry," Isshin begged as he grabbed his light jacket off the coat hook by the door.

"Whatever, I'll be back," he said and slammed the door behind him, leaving Isshin looking after him.

He didn't know where he was walking; in fact, he didn't pay any attention whatsoever to where he was going. He was just angry, and for a few minutes, it felt good because he was feeling something other than numb. He stopped, looking up at the night sky and took a breath. But he couldn't stay mad. He knew he needed help because his father was right. He looked at his phone and thought about texting him. Telling him he was sorry he got so mad. He walked to a building and leaned against it, pulling up his dad's text messages.

I'm sorry I got so angry.

It's okay, son. It really is. Just come home and we'll talk about it.

He sighed. He nodded to himself and texted him again. Alright. I'll be home soon. I'm coming back now.

He was about to leave when someone walked up beside him. He glanced over, thinking it was someone else on a late-night walk, but instead he saw the glint off the barrel of a silver gun. His eyes widened, and he looked up to see a guy with cropped black hair and beady black eyes. He was smiling. While Ichigo was looking at him, someone else came up beside him and grabbed his phone from his hand.

"Any good?" the first guy asked.

"Nah, generic phone, not worth shit," the other guy behind Ichigo said and he heard the sound of the phone being tossed to the ground.

"Money, friend," the first one said and waved the gun at him.

Ichigo could hear the blood rushing in his ears. "I don't…I don't have anything. I don't even have my wallet…"

He jerked as he felt the other guy patting his pockets. "He's telling the truth. Ain't got nothing."

"Well, you're a waste of time," the one in front of him said with a sigh.

"Look, I won't tell anyone about you if you just let me go," Ichigo said, starting to get annoyed at these guys. Who did they think they were, wannabe Yakuza?

"Ah, see, you've wasted our time. And you gotta pay for that, right Ogura?" the beady eyed one said.

"I don't understand. I don't have any money," Ichigo tried but jerked as he felt the other guy, this Ogura, grab his wrists. He pulled away from him.

"On no, don't be like that." He pressed the gun against Ichigo's chest and he heard the click of it cocking. "Let him."

If he wasn't out of practice, he might have been able to take them even with a gun, but the last two years had taken a physical toll on him. He was nowhere near "fighting shape" anymore. He knew his reflexes were good, but were they faster than a gun? While he was thinking, Ogura grabbed his hands again and he felt him wrap something around them and there was a zipping sound. Zip tie?

He shuddered as he felt the Ogura guy place his hands on his hips. "You promised the next one, Noda…"

"Yeah, come on, walk forward," Noda said and waved the gun at him.

"Where are we going?" Ichigo snapped, still pulling on the tie at his wrists.

Noda gave him a hard look before he flipped the gun around and smacked him across the face hard enough that he went to his knees.

"Shut up. You really think I won't shoot you here?" he asked. "Stand back up."

Ichigo felt his heart beating heavy in his chest. The guy was right. He knew their look, and now he knew their names. Somehow, he didn't think he was supposed to walk away from this encounter from the start. He managed to get to his feet, blood dripping down his face. He walked ahead of the two of them, being steered by the one called Ogura.

Now that he could see him, Ogura was shorter than him by several inches, and reed thin with messy black hair all over his head. He led him down to an alley between the buildings. He snorted.

"Good enough."

"Good enough for what?" Ichigo couldn't help but ask.

This time, he fell hard forward onto his knees as the other one smacked him in the back of the head with the pistol butt. Ogura yanked him to his feet once again and he stumbled a bit trying to get his bearings over the ringing in his head. He lost a few seconds until he was swung into the building wall.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, his mouth working before his brain could tell him not to.

This time the hit sent him sprawling to the ground face first. He could taste blood after that. He heard Ogura snort.

"Don't kill him yet! I ain't a necrophile!"

"He's mouthy," Noda said and Ichigo heard a buzzing sound in his ears. That probably wasn't a good thing. His face felt like it was on fire already, and he knew he was going to have to get Inoue to help heal this up. If he managed to get out of there.

Ichigo's brain caught up with their words finally and he realized what he'd said. "Oh, no, shoot me now, you're not touching me!" he tried to pull away from him again only to be slammed back into the wall again with his face pressed against it.

"I'm gonna touch whatever I want, and you can't stop me. Then we're gonna put a bullet in your brain. You won't be around to tell anyone what happened here, and in the morning, some unlucky soul is going to find your body back here with the trash," Ogura snarled in his ear.

Noda sighed. "You're so dramatic, Ogura. I wasn't going to tell him we were going to kill him until after you were done with him. Now you better gag him before he starts screaming and I do have to shoot him."

Ichigo gasped as he felt the pressure on his wrists from Ogura. He winced as he felt him take his shirt bottom and rip a piece of it off.

"This'll work," Ogura muttered and wrapped the shirt piece over his lips. He pulled it tight until it was cutting into both sides of his mouth and tied it behind his head. He growled against it and couldn't get much noise to come out. "Shut up or I'll have Noda put a bullet in your shoulder and we'll see how much you resist me, then."

"Go ahea!" Ichigo snapped back at him. "Is eh only ay I'll 'e till!"

"What the hell did he say?" Noda said with a snort.

"Don't know, don't care," Ogura said as he grabbed Ichigo by the back of the hair and slammed his head into the wall beside him.

"And you told me not to kill him," Noda said as Ichigo fell to his knees again, looking dazed.

"Yeah, well, you sad it. He's mouthy. Once more, then you should put a bullet in him," Ogura said as he leaned forward and grabbed the back of Ichigo's head again, now dripping with blood. "That ought to have rung his bell."

"If I shoot him, we'll take the chance of someone calling the police," Noda reminded him.

"Around here? I doubt it," Ogura said and threw Ichigo forward to fall over with his face down.

Ichigo could barely hear them, his head was ringing so much. He panted and realized that he was breathing against the ground. It smelled funny, he thought. Not really bad, but definitely had a smell. He was contemplating the strange scent when he felt Ogura's hands around the front of his pants. That was enough to set him to fully awake again. He slammed his head back, cracking into Ogura's nose hard enough to hear a snap.

There was a moment when he was up on his knees staring at Noda, a little shocked at the yelp of pain coming from behind him.

"Shoot him!"

He didn't have time to do anything before his shoulder and arm exploded in pain with perhaps the loudest sound he'd ever heard. He gasped, feeling the bullet tear through flesh and muscle. He had been hurt a lot in his fights with Soul Society, but this was a new kind of pain. He bit down hard on the gag in his mouth, already feeling that it was soaked with spit. He winced as he felt his head wrenched back painfully.

"You're really going to regret that before you die," Ogura hissed in his ear as his ears finally stopped ringing so much. "You broke my fucking nose, you bastard. I'm going to hurt you for that."

Ichigo swallowed, feeling nothing but pain radiating through his shoulder so much it was eclipsing the pain in his throbbing head. He felt tears running down his cheeks from the pain and couldn't stop them. Ogura threw his head forward again, and he couldn't catch himself, so he fell flat, right onto the wounded shoulder. He made a pained sound as that side ground into the concrete. He could barely breathe anymore.

"Bastard had to make this difficult," Ogura said, reaching out and yanking the back of Ichigo's pants down, bursting the button and the zipper in the front.

The next few minutes lasted somewhere between seconds and an eternity. He had no concept of time, just a renewed definition of pain once more. He couldn't distance himself no matter how hard he tried. He was going to die here in this alley and it was all his fault; everything that happened was on him. He heard sobbing and realized it was him no matter how much he wanted to stay quiet. He didn't want to give them what they wanted.

Finally, after a flash through forever, Ogura pushed him down to the ground. "Alright, I've had my fun. You can kill him—"

The sudden call of "Freeze" from somewhere nearby made Ichigo's heart leap. He was saved? The police had come? He turned his head to the side and saw Noda pointing the gun at the police officer. He couldn't keep his mind on what was happening. He had no clue, but someone was touching him, and he jerked away from whoever they were.

"Just stay calm, the ambulance is coming," he heard a man say. "I'll cut your hands free, just a second."

Then there was feeling rushing to his hands as soon as the tight plastic was cut off him. He tried to sit up, but the police officer kept telling him to stay still and wait for the paramedics. He was having a battle for consciousness at the moment, though, and after fighting it for a few minutes, he succumbed to the blackness, hearing vaguely the frantic sounding voice of the officer.

The next thing he knew he was waking up in a dark room. He blinked and turned his head to either side and felt a flush of dizziness go over him. He had a headache, but it was dull, like he was drugged. He couldn't feel his shoulder at all.

"Oh, you're awake," he heard and saw a nurse come in and turn on the lamp beside the bed. "You've been out a couple days. You're very lucky. That concussion you had was pretty bad."

"Lucky?" he echoed. He was lucky? How could she say he was lucky? His memory was quite clear about what had happened, and he wouldn't call it lucky.

He couldn't go back to sleep after she left. He just stared at the ceiling and listened to the heart monitor and the IV machine that was giving him drugs to keep the pain at bay. Lucky?

He spent a couple weeks in the hospital. His father and sisters came and saw him frequently, and even Uryū and Chad came by to see him. He didn't have a lot to say, and honestly, he didn't know what to say. They sent police officers to talk to him and he told them all he remembered was getting shot, then everything went blank. It was a lie. He vividly remembered everything that happened, but he didn't want to talk about it with anyone. His father tried to talk to him once about the incident. That was what he called it in his mind: the incident. He refused to even come close to talking about it, sticking with the story that he couldn't remember anything. He didn't think the psychiatrist that came to visit him believed him, though. Instead, they ended up talking about his depression and what they could do to help that since it was a problem.

No one blamed him, except himself. The two men were locked up, and the evidence they had collected was enough to keep them that way. Noda had turned on Ogura, so he could get a lighter sentence. Instead of attempted murder, they charged him with aggravated assault. Ogura eventually plead guilty to the assault and rape charge. He had little choice if he wanted to get out of jail before he was an old man. As it was, with Noda testifying against his partner, things didn't look good for him.

Ichigo took in all the information with a blank stare at his father. He didn't want to talk about it, even to hear about the charges they had against them. He was just happy with them plea bargaining that he wouldn't have to go before a bunch of people and tell them what happened. He didn't think he could do that.

He went home after the two weeks had passed and had Inoue come help heal his shoulder and his head the rest of the way. It was a relief to feel her unique magic happen again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. He started on an antidepressant like the doctor at the hospital wanted him to do, and things returned to normal—for a while.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Events of the Fullbringer Arc

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Ichigo sat on the bed and stared at the new shihakuso that he was wearing. It was really back. All of it was really back. He flexed his hand thoughtfully and closed his eyes, sensing the spirits. Ojjisan and Shiro, as he'd dubbed the hollow version of himself, were there again. It was wonderful. He had never felt happier about something in his life. But even though he should have been ecstatic over the fact he was a Shinigami again, he still felt that heaviness that had become so familiar to him over the last couple years.

He laid back down in his body and sat up once again. He felt a little light headed once he was in his human body, but he remembered he hadn't eaten yet today. He glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost dinnertime. He sighed, wondering how long he could keep fooling them. He wondered how long until they noticed he never came down to eat during the day.

He made his way down the stairs and smiled and laughed with his sisters and his father. They couldn't see the truth; he wouldn't let them see the truth. He wouldn't let them in to see the nightmares that he still lived with. Things had been relatively stable when he was occupied with Xcution and the Fullbringers, but he had something else to keep his mind off the things that ate at his stomach and kept him from wanting too eat anything.

Unfortunately, in the end, nothing had been in his control. He was nothing but a pawn in other people's games, yet again. The Fullbringers didn't want him. They wanted his power. Soul Society didn't want him, they wanted what he could do for them. He sighed, putting the thoughts out of his head. He had control over his life now, that was what mattered. Soon, he'd be going to the university, and then he wouldn't have to worry about anyone else telling him what to do and what not to do.

He went back up to his room after dinner and laid down to go to sleep. That night, he would be visited by dreams of that night. Fear, disgust, self-loathing, they all came out in the dreams. He couldn't stay asleep all night because of them. Instead he ended up getting out of bed and sitting on the floor by the bed around three am. He felt the familiar sensation of his stomach recoiling, so he rushed to the bathroom just in time to make it to the toilet before he emptied his stomach of what little he ate at dinner. He was vaguely glad that he had used the excuse he'd eaten while everyone was out of the house.

He got in the shower, just to have something to do, really. As he stood in the water, he placed his hands on his stomach. The pudginess that he'd acquired from not doing much over the last couple years was going away, finally. He'd worked so hard at it while he was with the Fullbringers. He'd been able to get back into shape with a little work. It was worth it, though. He could tell. But it still wasn't good enough yet. His spiritual body would reflect his human body after all. So, even as a Shinigami, he had to keep working toward it. He wasn't clear what "it" was, though. It was a destination he had no idea how he was going to get to.

It became normal for him. Time passed, as it does, and he was set to go to Tokyo for University. He had a dorm room with a roommate who seemed wrapped up in his own life. That was good, the less people nosing in his life, the better. He spent most his off time in the dorm, studying for classes. He was going to do well, at least. But he was so tired most the time. He often found himself falling asleep when he shouldn't be.

He told himself that as long as he ate once a day, it was enough for him. He could control when and what he ate, even if he couldn't control anything else. He got to a point that hunger became something he just ignored. He tried to eat early in the day because he often found himself throwing up during the night when the nightmares visited him. They were often different each night and about different memories. Sometimes, he remembered fights that he'd been in, only in his dreams, he lost the fight and was humiliated. Sometimes, everything was dark, and all he felt was fear.

His roommate, Jou Sakata, often asked if he was alright. Ichigo would tell him he was fine, of course he was fine. Sakata acted like he didn't quite believe him, though, and Ichigo couldn't blame him. No matter how quiet he was when he got up during the night, he still disturbed him now and again. He told Sakata that he had stomach problems and that was why he had to get up so often during the night.

A holiday came around, and his father expected him to come home for it. He had to keep up appearances, so he agreed to come home on the train. When he got there, his father stared at him for a moment before he spoke.

"Aren't you hot, son? You're in layers," he asked as he sat down at the dining room table.

"Just a little cold in here," he said as he sat down across from him.

"How's school been going?" Isshin asked, smiling at him.

Ichigo stifled a yawn and smiled at his father. "Good. So far, I've been keeping up with everything. It's been good."

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? You look rather drawn in the face," Isshin pointed out.

"I'm sure," he said, glaring at his father. "But it's late. I'm going to go on to bed. I'm sure the girls are already asleep." He stood up from the table. "I had a long trip to get back."

"Do you want something to eat before you go to bed?" Isshin asked and stood up to gesture at the kitchen. "There's leftovers from dinner."

"Ah, no, I'm just going to sleep. I don't need anything," he said and headed up to his room with his backpack.

He didn't see his father sit back down slowly and look after him for a long time. He got into the bedroom and leaned against the back of the door, heart beating a little faster than he would have liked. He pulled off the hoodie he was wearing over his t-shirt and shivered. Why was it so cold all the time? He decided to just cover up in the bed and hope he could sleep.

Unfortunately, he woke up at around four in the morning, rushing to the bathroom. He sat on the floor, holding his head, stomach roiling in response from the vivid dream that brought him from sleep. He sighed, flushing the toilet.

"Son?" he heard and looked up at the door in surprise.

"Uh, yeah?" he answered tentatively.

"Are you okay?" Isshin asked.

"Yeah, just a little travel sick," he said, standing up and opening the door to look at his father.

Isshin looked at him with a frown. "Are you sure?"

"Um, yeah, I'm fine," he tried, but his father obviously didn't believe him.

"Son, what's going on? Please, talk to me. You've lost weight since you left, and you haven't called from school at all. I'm worried about you. Are you still taking your medication?" He obviously wasn't going to move until Ichigo gave him an answer he wanted.

"Yes, Pop. I'm still taking it. Nothing's wrong, really." He couldn't look him in the eye though.

"If you won't talk to me, who will you talk to?" he asked, ignoring his attempt to say nothing was wrong.

Ichigo looked up at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know."

"Please, son, let me help you. Whatever it is, we can handle it together. You don't have to do this alone," Isshin stepped out of front of the door, though.

"Look, there's nothing you or anyone else can do. It's my problem; I'll deal with it." He walked out past him and into his room without another word.

Isshin stood there in the hall and wondered what was going on with his son. He knew that he'd never gotten a chance to recover fully after The Incident as he called it. The mess with the Fullbringers had come up too soon afterward. If it hadn't been for Inoue, he would have been out of commission for months, but instead, as soon as she healed him, he started going to the local gym, saying he needed to do something again. At the time, he thought it was a good thing. He thought that he was getting over the depression after starting the medication. But now he wasn't so sure.

He went back to his room and picked up his phone, wondering who he could call. Who would Ichigo talk to? He already knew he wouldn't talk to Tatsuki or Inoue. He'd ignored them, as well as Uryū and Chad before. He obviously wasn't talking to anyone at the school. He was having nightmares or flashbacks and throwing up in the middle of the night and acting like it was nothing. How long had that been happening? He squeezed the phone and dialed the only one he could think of.

"It's far too early to be calling people, Kurosaki-san…" came Urahara's voice, sounding like he'd woken the other Shinigami up.

"I needed to talk to you about Ichigo," he said softly, trying not to be too loud in case his son was still awake and might overhear him.

There was a pause as Urahara seemed to be adjusting himself. "Of course. What is it?"

"I think, no I know, he's not doing well. He came home from school for the holiday and he looks… well, he looks bad. He's lost weight when he really didn't have any to lose, and he's having dreams that wake him in the night. He won't talk to me, and says that it's his problem."

"So, you want to know if he'll talk to one of us?" Urahara's question was more a statement.

"Basically. He needs to talk to someone, and that someone isn't me as much as I wish it was. You know what happened to him before the Fullbringers came into his life. I had hoped that with all that, he would feel better at least. But instead, I think it only made things worse." Isshin paused, taking a deep breath. "I had wanted to believe that the answer to all his problems was getting his powers back again, since that caused the depression to start with."

"But that's not the case," Urahara stated. "You have to remember what he's been through over the last few years. He was fifteen when he got pulled into Shinigami affairs. He was still a child. Then he was barely seventeen when he was attacked that night." Urahara's voice was somewhat mournful at that thought. "And now, after all the things that happened with the Fullbringers, and them betraying his trust, as well as finding out that Soul Society had been spying on him… He may be eighteen now, but he's gone through far more than some people go through in an entire lifetime."

Isshin was silent because of course it was all true. "I don't know what to do, Kisuke."

"I'll talk to Yoruichi. Maybe she can try to talk to him. I don't know if it will help, but the only people I can think of would be her or Shinji."

"Shinji?" he asked.

"He is more like Shinji as a Vizard than he is any other Shinigami, after all. He can understand some of what he's going through that has to do with his powers."

Nodding, Isshin sighed. "Yeah, I can't think of anyone else he might be willing to talk to. I already know he won't talk to his human friends, and I don't know if Rukia or Renji might be of any help."

"I'll send word to them and have them come surprise Ichigo with a visit. It may help to see them," Urahara said and Isshin heard him yawn. "Of course, I'll do this once the light of day is here. For now, you should sleep as well, Kurosaki-san. Let me worry a little on Kurosaki-kun."

"Thank you," Isshin said as he clicked off the phone.

He sat still for a long time, until the light of dawn began to filter in through the windows. Would Urahara be able to help? Would Rukia or Renji? Would anyone?