Jhaxe: Well, this another one of my story attempts. I hated the way Shiro No Tsuki No Kinou turned out, so I'm trying this way instead. How does a flashback oriented story sound? Hopefully it's better written. Since it's almost time for school again, I need to get back into my better writing, so hopefully this is better than my previous summer works. But, damn! I edited this last night, only to have my internet fuck up on me and delete all my work. Life's a bitch sometimes...
Iyx: You seemed to forget that you almost threw your computer out the window...
Jhaxe: So I have anger issues...who doesn't?
Summary: The war is long and tedious, having stretched almost three years. But he no longer cares who wins...who loses...who dies. He stopped caring long ago...after he realized that no one was coming to save him.
Disclaimer: It's Fanfiction. FANfiction. FanFICTION. Honestly...need I be more specific?
Warnings: Depression, Mentions of Suicide, Language, Violence, Alcohol
:-: I - Revival of the Lost :-:
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound of his black and white boots echoed off of the vacant whitewashed walls. The high ceilings provided an amphitheater-like effect. The long white coat, inlaid with black and tied at the waist by a red sash, flowed around his white hakama, ending just above his ankles. The collar was cut right beneath his chin, and also moved slightly in accordance with his steps. The sleeves, loose but thin, wrinkled only at the minor flex of his elbows as he moved.
Lastly, as one would note, there was a long katana attached to his back. It was longer than the average katana, and quite thin. Ending just below his hips, the scabbard was solid black, in stark contrast to his coat, but matching the inlay as if purposely coordinated. The guard was a pale gold color, perfectly rectangular with only two matching swirls cut out, as if to mimic 'yin' and 'yang.'
The hilt was wrapped in red, capped in the same dull gold. Attached to the sheath was a red strap, tied both to just below the hilt and just above the bottom of his back. It cascaded tightly across his chest from right shoulder to left hip. The design upon the crimson material was a thin, etched black pattern of sharp zigzags.
As his coat moved back and forth with his advancement, it could be noted that the hallway was empty, save for himself. In this part of the palace, his part to be exact, there was minimal activity unless someone had received a message to deliver to him personally. Other than that, not counting his subordinates, the corridor he was currently traveling on was usually deserted.
However, it would not remain so for long, as he was heading towards a more populated area of the fortress. He had been requested to be briefed of the current situation with Seireitei over dinner. Apparently, the army was making advancements towards conquering enemy territory.
Not that he cared of course.
His footsteps began to gain a muffled tone as he neared other people.
Or perhaps 'people' was the wrong word. 'People' was more frequently thought of as a word used to describe human beings, which these creatures were not. They were known as 'arrancar,' or hollows that taken off their masks in order to adopt the powers of a shinigami, or something similar to those abilities at least.
For the most part, they were nothing like shinigami. Similar abilities or not, they were still hollows, and besides a few exceptions, they were still heartless soul-devouring monsters. Such creatures weren't worth his time…not anymore.
Up ahead was a hallway filled with these arrancar. The corridor, exactly the same as the one he had come from, was bustling with activity. Arrancar were moving in packs, preparing for battle and gossiping about the latest victory or who had died on either side. Listening in could provide insight into exactly what was happening on the battle frontier, without actually being there.
Not that he cared of course.
As he approached, the noise all but stopped. Even without knowing him personally, everyone knew of him. He was the 'hybrid from the other side.' He was the shinigami with the abilities of a hollow. To them, he was all-powerful and feared. To them, he was a god-like being who was best left alone. To them, he was a being worthy of praise and worthy of worship.
But like all matters of the sort, he couldn't care less of what he was to them.
The spaces in the crowd formed in an almost practiced pattern as the arrancar moved briskly out of his way. He never batted an eye towards any of them, just kept his stoic gaze forward as they stared in awe, fear, and admiration.
As it was, he had almost reached his destination. The large dining room meant only for the most powerful of the palace. One could only dine there with express permission and invitation from Aizen himself. It was considered an honor to even be let past the matching oak doors.
Not that he cared in the least where he was 'allowed' to go.
The arrancar guarding the door appeared to just notice his arrival, although he was sure that they had acknowledged his presence long ago. The pair quickly parted, adjusting to a position where they could open the doors simultaneously, announcing his arrival.
As the heavy barricade was split, a loud creak emitting from the stressed hinges, a brighter sort of light flooded into the dimmer hallway. He simply kept walking forward, never stopping or speaking a word.
The dining room was deafly quiet as he entered, although he noted that most of the Espada were already present, as were Ichimaru Gin and Tousen Kaname. Aizen himself was not yet sitting on his end of the table, but he would no doubt arrive shortly.
Not that he cared of course.
Taking his seat near the edge of the table, near Aizen's own, he avoided the gazes of the present Espada, not showing any particular emotion besides his usual apathy. He was vaguely aware of Ichimaru attempting to strike up a conversation with him, but he quickly gave up with his futile notion.
The doors opened once more. Aizen strode in, his usual arrogant demeanor adorning his presence. Taking his seat at the edge of the table, he began to speak.
"Thank you all for coming." He began, his voice rebounding off the walls. "I have called this meeting in the interest of enlightening you all about the current field situation, as well as the plans that will follow." He noticed that Aizen's gaze would occasionally drift toward him, in an attempt to make eye contact. But, like Ichimaru's attempts, his efforts were useless.
After a few moments of the man's annoying recap of the current events, which could be heard just about anywhere in the palace, if one were to stand near a group of arrancar for just a few minutes, he began to tune the arrancar overlord out. He knew the man's plans as well as his strategies.
It had been just after arrived in this place that the man had changed his plans. Instead of creating the King's key immediately, Aizen would first create a large army of arrancar, complete with divisions rivaling the Gotei 13. From there, he would dominate Soul Society, and in doing so, Earth as well. With all three worlds under his control, he would then create the King's key, defeat the royal guard, kill the king, and become ruler of all four realms.
Although simple and to the point, it was no doubt effective. With Aizen's resources, even the most incompetent plan could succeed.
Not that he cared in the least.
Kurosaki Ichigo had not cared about such matters for well over two years. Not since the day he'd been forced to accept that no one was coming to save him.
:-:Flashback:-:
Running.
Running.
Running.
Running for their lives.
Running for their freedom.
And running out of time.
Their close-nit group of nakama was battered and beaten. Inoue was healing them the best she could, but with them running simultaneously, it was no easy task. Rukia was in Renji's arms, bleeding heavily, her reiatsu dropping to almost nothing.
Sado was limping, being aided by Ishida. Ichigo was at the front, and although he was injured, he was relatively stable, for the moment at least. He knew the Espada, Noitora, would soon catch up to them, but luckily, they were already outside of the walls of Los Noches, and running into the desert.
Yoruichi would be waiting for them, dashing around with shunpo, until she spotted them and lead them back through the gate to the training area underneath Urahara Shoten. Although risky, it was all they could come up with on such short notice.
And they were almost there. They just needed to keep going within the designated vicinity and they should have seen her…but she was nowhere to be found.
In the pit of Ichigo's stomach, a bad feeling began to brew. It was more than just a vibe that the enemy was following. It was far more than that. However, the orange-haired shinigami was not clairvoyant, therefore he had no idea what was awaiting him.
He briefly snapped out of his daze when he heard Ishida shouting. Up ahead, there was a portal, and there were three figures standing before it…three figures dressed in black.
The shinigami had come instead of Yoruichi. This was a clear sign that they were all indeed in very grave trouble that would no doubt result in punishment. However, the fact that a few Espada were now dead would probably help their case and…
Ichigo's other thoughts were lost as he felt Noitora's reiatsu closing in on them. The shinigami at the portal obviously felt it too, as all three had drawn their Zanpakuto.
Sands shifting into clouds of dust behind them, the group took off towards the gate, knowing whatever punishment was awaiting them couldn't be any worse than what Noitora had planned for them if he caught up.
Ichigo took another look at Rukia. Although breathing, her wounds half-healed, she still looked pained and pathetic. Being himself, the young shinigami couldn't help but feel responsible, as he decided upon this endeavor in the first place.
Looking back towards the front, Ichigo realized they were merely a rough fifteen feet away from the gate that would take them home. The shinigami were shouting at him, telling them to hurry as fast as possible.
It was then Ichigo realized that Noitora's reiatsu had vanished. Had he…? No, the freaky Espada wouldn't give up the chase just like that, and Ichigo knew it. That could only mean…
No sooner had this thought occurred to him that a large, twin-mooned scythe sliced the air right next to him, cutting shallowly into his left ear, before being retracted by its chain.
Noitora had caught up to them.
Ichigo, despite the protests, had repositioned himself at the back of the group, stopping completely as Inoue was pushed through the portal by one of the shinigami.
Mission Accomplished.
This was followed by Ishida and Sado being pulled through by the same shinigami, whilst being pushed by another. Lastly, one of the remaining two grabbed Renji, despite the red-head's protests, while the other took Rukia into his arms and they both jumped through.
Ichigo, glancing back towards the Espada, released a large Gestuga Tenshou, hoping to delay the creepy stalker, as he turned heel and ran towards the closing gateway.
He was mere feet from it, just as Ulquiorra appeared out of thin air and elbowed him in the stomach harshly, causing Ichigo to erupt into a violent fit of coughing.
Collapsing under the strain of his thinning stamina and lack of sustenance, as well as his numerous wounds, the left behind shinigami could only stare as the portal closed, trapping him in the world of the hollows and at the mercy of Ulquiorra and Noitora, and if he lived, which wasn't likely, Aizen himself.
:-:End Flashback:-:
That had been the situation three years ago. That was a time when Ichigo had had the will to live, the drive to win, the determination to protect his nakama, and the hope to keep going forward.
That was a time when he cared.
But that time was over.
Jhaxe: Hopefully that wasn't too awful. I really tried with this one, and checked it numerous times. I do hope it's an improvement from my past performance.
Iyx: Why is Ichigo so cold? What happened to him after being trapped in Hueco Mundo? And how will this affect his future and the war? Find out in later chapters of Breaking the Habit!