A/N: Welcome to part four of the Echo Series created by yours truly. This is the second part of the second (and, as of 2018, renamed) Love and Tragedy portion of the series, and the first Trial and Bonding portion can be read my profile. I recommend you read that portion first, or you are going to be a bit confused. This part is also considerably shorter than Echoup de théâtre: Cache. Please keep this in mind!
Like the previous parts, this story is told as an album (a music album) of events. The underlying theme of the series is echoes.
Title is from "coup de grâce", which can mean a death blow to end the suffering of a severely wounded person or animal; an action or event that serves as the culmination of a bad or deteriorating situation. It translates to "blow of mercy". To endure is to suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently; to remain in existence; to last.
So here's how this is gonna go, guys. Since it's so close to school time, for me, I might have to upload like once every week. We'll see as time goes on...
1. Pieces to a Shattered Soul
A tall figure stood at the edge of an eight-story building, eyes closed and mind barren of thoughts. It was a young man, his waist-length orange hair gently fluttering in the breeze. An emotionless mask adorned his face, his hands limp at his sides. He was so still, he seemed to be asleep, despite the deep breaths he was taking. The breaths were made with great effort, as if he was trying to calm himself.
And, well...he was.
Ichigo took one more, deep inhale, exhaling through his mouth. Ocher eyes opened, gazing towards the sky.
He did it again.
He lost control.
It wasn't that he couldn't control his power. It was merely that there were times when something triggered him, his nightmares were so vivid, or his memories overwhelmed him so, that his very hard-earned control went right out the window. If not for them, and his extreme reactions to them, he would be okay.
But he wasn't.
As things were, he was a time bomb. Usually, everyone walked on eggshells around him, but he was too mentally exhausted to care enough.
Ugh...
He tried to recall a time similar to this, and the only thing he could compare it to was life after the loss of his mother. Only, his family dealt with things differently. They took on roles to satisfy the void with themselves. Even he did. He became the one not to judge by his appearance. A good student, despite the stereotype as a delinquent. A fighter, despite never having violent tendencies. A sort of medium, and only because he couldn't find a better term for the ability to see spirits.
This time, after the loss of his mate...something inside of him died.
He was certain of it. It was an almost tangible feeling, a void within himself that could never be filled. He felt it in his heart and in his soul. In his mind, he would hear that voice, that unique, soft voice with a distinct accent. Sometimes it was so loud, he thought it was in the real world. A strange sort of loneliness ate at him, and he hated how no matter the amount of people around him, the feeling never went away.
On one hand, he found himself pathetic. The strange blackouts, the inability to handle certain memories, the nightmares, the triggers, the trauma. Because that had to be it, right? He was traumatized. After all he went through, it took the death of a loved one—again—to traumatize him. But never before like this.
On the other hand, he understood his situation. His condition. He was traumatized, he was unable to cope, and he was having adverse side-effects. In his heart—his broken, damaged heart—he knew he could get better. Better. Not necessarily healed. As Zangetsu said, it would hurt. Forever.
He tried to do things to ease the hurting and overcome his trauma. He meditated, he kept himself in pleasant company, he sparred with Zangetsu in his inner world. He walked often, he listened to music, he slowly eased into hearing Gin's name again, being reminded of Hell.
And he was better from before. He could communicate, now. He did eat at least two meals a day. He could say Gin's name without losing his mind. He did talk about Hell. He could manage a smile, even if it was only by a bit.
But something inside of him was still dead.
It was August, eight months since...the incident. He was finally legally an adult. And it showed in ways he was almost sure no one noticed. At least, for now. It had only been a month since he turned twenty, after all...
But considering the amount of highly intelligent people in his company, the likelihood they weren't paying attention to him wasn't very high. Especially given his...issues.
But quite frankly, he didn't care.
Ugh...
Closing his eyes, he sighed. What would he think of him, now...? Would he be disappointed? Would he be understanding? Would he put up the mask and merely smile like the bastard he was?
Ichigo winced at his thoughts, blinking the blackness away. Ever since the incident, he found himself rather bitter over how he was never told that the Hōgyoku was embedded in his mate's soul. He was also...angry at said mate of his for lying to him. Likewise, though it was easy to hide, he was angry at Kisuke and Shinji, as well. He didn't want to be angry at anyone close to him, but as things stood, he wasn't in any condition to control his thoughts, either.
It was sad, really.
"You're not going to jump, are you?"
Strange how he could hear a smile in the voice. He continued ignoring the man, keeping his eyes closed. He had been watched for some time, now. He just didn't care enough to pay the man any mind.
"Because if you are, I'm kind of morally obligated to stop you."
He almost rolled his eyes, then glanced back. "What do you want?" His voice was low. It was probably from all the screaming he did earlier. Then again, he spoke softly, now. No point in raising his voice. Barely even any reason to talk...
Well, that wasn't entirely true. He liked to converse with his close friends, which included Nel. He liked talking to Hiyori, oddly enough. He even still liked to talk to Kisuke and Shinji, despite everything.
Otherwise, there wasn't much of a reason to talk.
"I spotted you and thought I'd make sure you're not going to off yourself."
"Why?"
A sound was made as if that was a ludicrous question. "We're kindred spirits, Kurosaki." The smile dropped from the voice. "Seriously, are you jumping or not?"
He glanced down at the nightscape below. Colors, lights and sounds. So many of them. "I'd probably survive."
"That's...terrifying."
He finally turned around. It was the man with combed-back black hair, Kūgo. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he stared him down. He hated how he had to talk more than his new norm. "What do you actually want?"
A black brow rose, the same signature smile forming on Kūgo's face. "Perceptive." He took a few steps closer. "I'm here to inform you that the beginnings of a civil war are occurring in the Soul Society. I thought you might want to know. I was also wondering if you've reconsidered my proposition to join Xcution."
Xcution. A group of exiles, consisting of three Shinigami, a Fullbringer, a Mod-Soul, one human, and a Bount. There were once two Bounts, but...
Briefly, Ichigo closed his eyes. "One of your men tried to kill me."
Kūgo shook his head. "Not kill. He was only testing you. You are as intuitive as the rumors say..."
Slightly turning his head to the side, Ichigo had to wonder. Where, exactly, where they getting their intel? Last time, he was told their Mod-Soul companion was the reason they even knew of him. That must mean they could get to the Soul Society.
And...a civil war? Whatever could have caused that?
Looking away dismissively, he began to leave, intending to jump into the air. He really didn't appreciate a "test" being an attempt to injure him. That, and he wasn't interested in their group of misfits. He already belonged to one such group and was perfectly satisfied with them.
"You broke his nose."
He stopped, his upper lip twitching. "He's lucky I didn't kill him outright."
"You're really different from last year." Kūgo approached again, moving much closer than before. "I remember you were extremely bothered when Eiri was killed...and now you speak of how you could have killed another of my comrades."
Ichigo rotated his jaw before turning around. "You're their leader. I get it. You never did get an apology for what happened to Amano. But then there's this thing where you tried to induct me into your group. That's highly suspicious."
"Well, it wasn't like you killed Eiri." Kūgo raised a brow. "It was your friend."
"Said friend wasn't in his right—" Ichigo paused at a familiar burning that blossomed inside of him. He needed to end the conversation. Exhaling deeply, he snapped his eyes shut as black briefly clouded his vision. "I apologize. I'm sorry you lost one of your comrades. Please don't bother me again."
With that, he swiveled around and jumped into the air. Kūgo didn't follow, and he moved quickly, distancing himself from the Bount as if he was being followed. He narrowed his eyes. Kūgo would undoubtedly try to talk to him, again. He just had a feeling.
He learned to trust his feelings a long time ago.
~:Edgr:E:~
It was likely because of where he now called home, but Ichigo enjoyed the night. The air was different, as was the atmosphere. It made him want to do things he felt were inappropriate to do at night. Not an "obscene" sort of inappropriate. More like a "this is weird" inappropriate.
The Hollow slammed into the ground, and he landed hard on its belly, causing it to cry out in pain.
Feasting on Hollows was one of those things.
He clawed at the Hollow's throat, and it gurgled before going limp. He took a moment to observe it. For the longest time, he was accustomed to the purification of Hollows. The death of a Hollow was something else. It was like killing an animal for slaughter.
Ugh...
He decided to try not to eat to his fill, this time. That was his norm, but it left him feeling heavy and lethargic. So, he only ripped off a few of the large tentacles, dragging the Hollow somewhere out of sight. Sitting cross-legged upon his kill, he gulped down one of the appendages, an apathetic expression upon his face. It was a drastic difference from the way he had been moments ago.
The hunt and killing normally gave him a magnificent high...
His expression remained unchanged as he ate another tentacle. The long limb hung from his mouth as he at the rest of it, trying not to get into his thoughts but there, regardless. Lately, his soul had been itching. It wasn't just his soul, but his mind as well. If he didn't go hunting and killing Hollows, and then devouring them, the itch would persist. It was an itch he had to scratch, or he was going to go crazy.
If he wasn't crazy already...
Ugh...
After he finished off his meal, he took Zangetsu off his back and stabbed the Hollow's mask, purifying the rest of its body. Landing on his feet after it dissolved, he sheathed his sword and glanced off into the distance. He sensed another Hollow much further away.
A wicked smirk formed on his face.
One more for the night? Hell yeah.
~:Edgr:E:~
Before long, he rested in a park, slumped against a tree. One of his legs was raised, the other stretched out, and his hands rested on his stomach. His clothes were slightly blood stained, his hair splayed out beneath him, and Zangetsu rested at his side. He was relaxing, nearly asleep, but kept his senses alert.
He could sense the animals in the park. Most had disappeared once he brought a Hollow over, but some were returning to do whatever it was they had been doing prior. Insects chirped around him. People walked, so far away, living their lives...unaware of the monsters nearby...
Or the monster nearby.
He took out four Hollows. He ended up devouring parts from all of them, anyway. That was too many for his otherwise fairly human—and very much alive—body. But even Kisuke hadn't been able to "humanely dissect him" enough to figure out how his body worked.
Oh, and all of this—eating Hollows, his enhanced five senses, the whole deal with wanting a mate, so on and so forth—was apparently because his body went through a "second puberty". Something about how, since he was part Hollow, a Hollow that was not an Arrancar, he was closer to the feral Hollows than he was to Arrancar. He was closer to a Vasto Lorde, more appropriately.
Ugh...
Slanting his eyes open, he stared at nothing.
He ought to go back home.
But there was something on the edges of his senses...and it was nearing him. He let it. It was different, unlike anything he ever sensed before. Or maybe, he had sensed something like it before. It was dark, sinister.
Like...like...
"Kurosaki Ichigo."
He glanced up to see four figures draped in black clothes with masks vaguely resembling skulls standing on reishi particles. They were covered from head to toe, not a single bit of them visible despite showing their arms, legs, hands, and feet. They were merely covered. There were two tall, slender figures, a shorter, rounder one, and a large, hulking one.
Slowly, he moved to his feet, grasping Zangetsu in his hand. He didn't move his eyes from them and remained quiet.
"Come," said the same one that spoke before. It had an interesting, masculine voice. It was commanding, in a way. "We need you to do something for us."
Ichigo merely blinked at them, then looked away, intending to leave. He really needed to do something about that target symbol on his soul.
Realizing this, the round one said, "Can we show it to him now?"
There was a sigh from the first one. "Kurosaki Ichigo. Come with us...and you can have what you desire most."
Narrowing his eyes, Ichigo softly scoffed, continuing to look away from them. As if they would know what it was he desired most, above all else. He wanted a lot of things. He wanted to see his family. He wanted to see his friends in Karakura-chō—if they still lived there. He wanted his companions to have normal lives, again. He wanted the person who killed his mate dead. He wanted...
His grasp on Zangetsu tightened.
There was just...too much he wanted.
They wouldn't know where to start.
Then something white appeared in the hand of the one that seemed to be the leader of them. It looked like a bundle of cloth. Stepping a bit closer and lowering somewhat, the figure let the cloth fall.
It looked and felt harmless, so Ichigo took it from out of the air. Placing Zangetsu on his back, he unraveled the cloth and gazed upon it.
It was a white yukata.
A white...bloodstained yukata...
With the largest stain...where the heart would be...
His own heart gave a painful throb. His throat clenched shut. He broke out into a sweat. His soul began to scream.
The memories hit him like a freight train. Blackness began to creep along the edges of his vision.
"How...did you..."
"We know where he is, Kurosaki Ichigo." The leader of the quartet lowered to the ground. "Your most precious possession."
He could barely see. "He's...not—"
"You claimed him. He's yours, is he not?"
A low, reaffirming growl was the response, and even the human side of his psyche was inclined to agree.
Gin was his.
Not in his right mind, Ichigo breathed heavily. His vision had almost completely blackened out, and he felt as if he was only in partial control of his body. His eyes had turned pure ebony, and his nails changed into claws. His choker began to chirp, a soft sound that he completely ignored.
In an ominous, echoic voice imbued with warbles, he demanded, "Where...is my mate?" He bore his teeth, grasping tightly onto the cloth as if it was a lifeline. "Where...is Gin?"
The figure placed its hands behind its back before stepping backwards to a blue, almond-shaped portal that appeared. Within, a vortex of bloodred was visible.
He could hear the smirk in its voice.
"In Hell, Kurosaki Ichigo. In Hell."
Hell.
Hell...
Gin was in Hell.
The memories came back, like a slap to the face, and everything went black. It was like trying to see his hand in darkness so deep, it could be right in front of his face, but he couldn't see it. There were sounds, growling, laughter, the clash of steel on steel, shouting. But none of that mattered.
He was back on Sōkyoku Hill, and Gin was ripped out of his arms. This time, he was held back by such powerful grips, he couldn't jump up to the Gate.
More, louder growls.
Get off me! Gin's going to...!
He watched, helpless, as Gin's smiling face was the last thing he saw before the Gates slammed shut.
His heart thumped wildly in his chest, a helpless, agonized howl ripping from his mouth.
Gin...Gin...!
Thrashing against his capturers, he felt tears roll down his face.
More screams.
"Ichigo!"
He came to realize there was pain around his neck, and his screams began to diminish. Something had pierced his hierro, drilled into it, and he could almost feel the potent drug flow through his system.
Slowly, he stopped thrashing. Groaning, he slumped to his knees with the help of arms and hands.
"Ichigo?"
Something broke through the darkness. Figures...some lights...more voices...
"Hold him up, Chad."
His head lolled about, and he blearily recognized the concerned face of his best friend holding him up at his side. "Chad..." he mumbled, rapidly losing consciousness. His voice was too low for him to be understood.
The last thing he heard was the sound of a portal of some kind closing.
The darkness swallowed him once more.
He didn't dream. There was only the peaceful nothingness...
"Ichigo."
"Zangetsu..." He could sense that his surroundings had changed. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Sideways blue buildings that were cracked and grey clouds met his sight. He stared forward, eyelids half-mast. "What...happened?"
A white form stood beside him. "You had another spell, King."
He grimaced. "I don't deserve that title..."
Zangetsu gave him a hard nudge with his boot, causing him to grunt. "What'd I tell you about that? You are my King, and you'd better hope a time never comes when I don't call you that."
Sighing, he nodded and sat up, glancing at the broken building he laid on with another grimace. At least his inner world wasn't full of water.
As if aware of what he was thinking, the avatar explained, "It's not your soul that is in turmoil—at the moment. It's your mind." He waved a hand. "'Course, you can see your soul is...broken, King."
"Yeah." Ichigo pulled a knee up, his other stretched out. "I'm...sorry."
A huff. "It's not your fault. If it was, that would be another story." Yin-yang orbs glanced down at him. "You're not healed, inside. It'll take a lot of time. Years. I can handle the broken buildings. I hate being submerged, surrounded by pathetic little houses."
"I can't promise anything..."
"I don't expect you to."
Sighing again, Ichigo lowered his head. "We should...spar again, sometime."
"I like the sound of that," Zangetsu lightly chuckled.
Looking up at him, tawny eyes shone with some excitement.
Zangetsu smiled back, but it didn't last. He looked away in thought. "Just keep goin' forward, King. Keep tryin', don't give up."
Nodding, Ichigo moved to stand. He then flew towards the sky.
His eyes opened slowly. They felt heavy, and it took several attempts before he could keep them open. With effort, he moved to sit up in the bed, groaning. He touched the choker around his neck. Helpful bastard. While it took the form of a simple black choker, it was a device. It was based upon his old one used to suppress his reiatsu, now modified to sense when he was about to lose control and...tranquilized him.
Sighing, he lowered his hand and stood from the bed. Bright moonlight entered his window. It was lunch time. He opened the door and used sonído to cross the distance to the dining room. Along the way, he was amiably greeted by some Arrancar. He didn't speak, but did nod at them. At this point, everyone was accustomed to his lack of conversation.
Entering the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of his companions just sitting down. Smiles were flashed at him.
"Hey, Ichigo." Kon beckoned him over.
Opening his mouth, Ichigo began to apologize, then thought otherwise. There was no point in doing that, anymore. He didn't see any faces of annoyance or ire. In fact, they seemed glad to see he was up. Letting his mouth close, he moved over to sit between Uryū and Chad. Almost immediately, a bowl of miso soup and rice was placed before him. He blinked up at Mashirō, who had placed it in front of him.
"Since you missed breakfast," she said with a smile.
Nodding in thanks, he took up his chopsticks and bit into a piece of daikon.
Conversation went on around him as he ate. While he didn't participate, he was glad to hear them talking. When they were silent around him, it both irritated him and made him feel like a mood-killer. In the beginning, that did happen a few times. He didn't understand why in the beginning...until he realized they were likely talking about...the incident. Or his mate. One of the two.
He paused as his heart throbbed. Closing his eyes, he ignored it.
"Ichigo."
Opening an eye, he glanced at Lisa.
"Do you know who those people were who approached you?" she asked, looking at him seriously.
Conversation quieted, so he imagined it was something important. He shook his head.
She frowned. "They were Togabito. Sinners."
At first, he didn't understand. Then it clicked.
They were from Hell.
Several grave nods went around upon seeing his expression. "Do you know why they came to you?" Shinji asked from beside Lisa.
A crease formed between orange brows. "They...wanted me to do something for them..." He wracked his brain, trying to remember what else happened. "Then..." His eyes widened.
Everyone froze when he stiffened, his eyes wide. He stared at the table, recalling the bloodstained yukata.
"They...mentioned Gin," he said softly, his voice quavering. If the room hadn't been so quiet, they probably wouldn't have heard him. All was still and silent as he tried to control himself.
He shut his eyes and lowered his chopsticks, hand clenching on the table. He could sense the atmosphere shift to a wary, concerned one, and it irritated him. He breathed from his mouth, calming down.
After a few moments, nothing happened.
Shinji pursed his lips, eyeing him. He was hesitant to continue "Ichigo...They're likely to approach you again. When they do, you can't let them manipulate you. Little is known about Hell, in the grand scheme of things." He frowned. "I got no idea why they'd want you, but you have to understand...you're valuable."
Blinking, Ichigo looked up at him questioningly.
"Think about it." Shifting, Shinji raised a hand. "I think it's safe to say you're one of the most powerful beings on the planet."
As Ichigo blinked in surprise, hums and sounds of agreement went around the table. He glanced at everyone. Even Uryū, Chad and Kon seemed inclined to agree, despite their lack of knowledge.
"That means you might be able to do things no other being can..."
"Not to mention," added Hachi, "your blood is also valuable. Someone like Kurotsuchi, for instance, might want you for experimentation."
Ichigo flinched at the mention of the 12th Division captain. Jaw locked, he looked back at the table, but understood. That would explain why there seemed to be a target symbol on his soul. He gave a sigh.
But...if they came from Hell, surely they knew...something about Gin. Not to mention the yukata...
As if aware of what he was thinking, Shinji eyed the young man. "Ichigo...Please. Don't even think about it."
Instead of responding or reacting, Ichigo went back to drinking his soup. He stayed quiet.
Eventually, conversation continued around him. Despite this, his mind wandered.
What if there was some way to see Gin again...?
