Ex

A bleach fan-fiction.


Warning!

This FanFiction is rated M for a reason. No there is no sex (yet), but there is something more sensitive. If you are offended by self mutilation do not read this Fiction for it will be a commonly occurring matter for most of the story.

Disclaimer!

I do not own Bleach, you all know this. If I did I'd be rich and wouldn't have to worry about school.


Ex. What did that word mean? Why did it have to cause him so much pain? His tanned hand found its way to the foggy mirror; he pulled his water wrinkled hand across the glass and locked his warm chocolate hues on the reflection. His youthful face was radiating with signs of fatigue. His eyes were sunken in and dark rings enclosed around them. How had this happened? His eyes trailed away from the sight of his reflection, it was just too hard to look at himself now.

'If you use this technique you will lose all of your shinigami powers.' Those words still rang in his ears like the scream of pain that had crawled from his vocal cords when the powers had been ripped from him.

He hadn't thought his actions through at the pique of battle. He hadn't actually understood just how painful the transaction would be. His hand weakly grasped the knob of the door and clicked the lock. A stifled whimper escaped his lips as he made his way back over to the sink. These past four months, seven days, twenty-two hours and twelve seconds had been more than he could take. The voices in his head had stopped whispering sweet nothings to him, and that was what had finally pushed his depression over the edge. It had been one thing to loose all of his friends because of his lack of spiritual energy, but when the voices had stopped he had realized just how alone he was without them. It wasn't one of those things you could just ignore. Living the majority of your teenage years with a homicidal hollow, an angsty teen, and an old man constantly whispering things to you only to have them ripped away in an instant was just something that was practically impossible to get over.

Ichigo's hand reached out with uncertainty and grabbed onto the handle of the sink's cabinet. He pulled the creamy white door open and pulled out a small box. It had been a while since he had used the contents of this box, but he was just at a point to where he couldn't take it anymore! He missed that feeling to much, missed the delicious sting, the cold artificial object against his skin making him feel like he was more than just a spirit wafting through the motions of daily life, more than a mere shadow of what he used to be. He ripped off the lid of the cardboard box and tossed it to the side. His warm chocolate eyes locked onto the small item in the box, it seemed so out of place . . . It was so small to be in such a large box. His warm eyes froze over as a sharp sting of pain welled up in them; he reached into the box and pulled out two photos. The one was of him and all of his friends from the soul society along with his friends from school, they looked pretty happy and they were all smiling, all except from Toshirio, he looked a tad bit annoyed, but when didn't he? A weak smile tugged at his lips but it soon fell when his eyes glanced past the photo in his hands and down to the one still sitting in the box. There were only three people in this photo, it was actually pretty recent. Ichigo was standing in the middle, his hollow to his left and Tensa at his right. For some reason they were all smiling, The strawberry teen couldn't remember why they had even taken the picture. He brought his free hand up to his face and wiped the tears away from his eyes. He couldn't help it anymore, he was tired of trying to be so tough when he knew that he couldn't do it alone! He kicked his feet out and slammed his converse into the porcelain tub he kicked until he could feel the hard substance crack, his tears blurred his vision and he wiped them away fiercely, not even caring if the eyeliner under his eyes smeared. He quickly pulled his knees up to his chest and looked down at the photo once again, he held it tight staring intently into the plastic memory as if his stare could pull the beings out of the small photo. He blinked the new forming tears away and grabbed the photo with both hands flipping it over. On the back of the photo a few words were written.

'我々はあなたが一護を決して忘れません'

Ichigo stared at the words until he let his gaze drift down to the small piece of metal tapped to the back just below the letters. Below that the words 'To forget is to die.' was written in bold marker. The few words on this photo made the teen's heart leap forward, he smiled weakly as he ripped the razor from the back of the photo. He blinked slowly as he let his eyes rake over the sterling metal, the blade looked so sharp that Ichigo could have sworn that he could have cut himself just by staring at it. His heartbeat slowed down and he clutched the metal between his fingers, he had never done this before and he didn't think that he would ever find himself in this position but he just couldn't take it anymore and this seemed to be the only way he could convince himself that he was still alive, that losing his powers had nothing to do with himself being weak. That the blood in his veins still pulsed, that his shallow breathing was actually keeping him alive, that just because he felt numb to the world and the ones around him didn't mean that he was dead. This seemed to be the only way to clear his fears. A tentative brush of the cold steel against his skin made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand at full attention, this was real. . .But not real enough. With a shaky breath he pushed the thin blade against his flesh just an inch or so below his elbow. The initial feeling was that of a quick sting, like a small lighter had touched against his tanned skin. He could feel the blood rush to the surface as he quickly yanked the blade away from his skin. The red cells flooded out of his wound and dripped slowly to the white tiled flooring. Small tears ran down his cheeks as he watched the blood gradually pool on the floor until the dripping ultimately stopped. He looked to the wound on his arm and took a moment to stare at it before he placed the razor down on the tile. He stood up and grabbed a wash cloth from the cabinet and turned on the tap, the icy water soaked into the white rag with ease and when he was satisfied he turned the tap off and sat back down in the floor. He glanced back at his self inflicted wound and pushed the cold rag against it. A slow stroke of the watered down terry-cloth removed the dried and coagulated blood from his arm, reveling the fresh pink wound. It was almost cute in a way, but it still wasn't enough. The white rag was tinted a crimson color where Ichigo's fingers had been and slowly transcended to a pale pink where only a small bit of the irony substance had been captured. A small line of crimson was traced onto the rag when the strawberry teen cleaned the razor of quickly drying blood. He was upset, not stupid. Even if others looked upon just doing the act as stupid he knew that he only wanted to feel the sting so he could make sure he was still complete, not take the act so far as to kill himself. He knew that would do him no good. Death would be no escape for him, it would only cause his suffering to tenfold. Living life like this would be acceptable for now.

He quickly replaced the blade to his skin, banishing all other thoughts as he sliced through the milky underside of his arm. The blood once again raced to the surface and he felt a few tears sting his eyes. This singing feeling was oh so welcomed, so much so in fact that he turned his back to the wall and leaned against it, savoring the feeling of the substance leaving his body to pool on the floor. It burned, oh how bad it burned, like no wound he had ever felt before. It hurt worse than when Ulquiorra priced his chest with his hand, It hurt more than when he was thrown through a solid concrete building. The burn sank down to his very core and he drank in the sickly sweet feeling as its fiery blaze licked against his organs and screamed in his brain. Delicious.

A knock at the bathroom door caused his eyes to open and a quiet whisper of a voice came from behind the door.

"Ichi-nii? Are. . .are you alright? You've been in there for quite some time. ." Ichigo's heart chipped a little at the sound of Yuzu's voice. She really was too good from him, always caring about everyone not even thinking about her own needs, always putting others before her. She was too pure, too innocent. . .She didn't need to know. . No one did.

"I'm fine Usa-chan, just. . .feeling a little sick that's all. I'll be out I a few minutes." His mouth tasted bitter with deceit. Lying to his little sister always left him feeling unsure of himself and only deepened his already guilty conscious.

"Do you want me to bring you up some tea?" He worried expression was obvious in her voice and it made Ichigo's heart drop to think of what she would say if she saw his new wounds. His chocolate hues glanced down at the slowly closing wounds.

"Sure, thanks." He stood up and walked over to the sink, he turned on the cool water and let it rush over his wounded arm, it hurt. He could feel the water seeping into his skin and it felt like little needles were being stuck into his wound, how unpleasant. He pulled his arm back once the dry blood had mixed with the water and scurried down the drain, his wounds had stopped bleeding but they were red and were obviously fresh. He pulled open the cabinet once more and searched for some bandages, luckily there were plenty stacked right in front of him. He grabbed some gauze and placed it over the wounds before wrapping them with some medical bandages. It really didn't do much for the pain but at least it kept the wounds out of sight. He sighed and looked down at the small pool of blood that had accumulated on the bathroom floor, not something one should leave sitting there. He grabbed a red towel from the closet and placed it on the floor, a cup on the sink offered him an easy way to get water onto the towel without making a hug mess. He poured the warm water onto the towel and moved it around over the spill, when the majority of the crimson liquid was soaked into the towel he tossed the towel into the dirty clothes and the plain white rag he had used earlier into the waste bin.

One last glance at the room and sure enough he had gotten everything cleaned up. He bent down and tossed the pictures back into the box, he didn't even want to look at them. The one with all of his shinigami friends didn't seem to be any different when he looked at it but whenever his gaze fell upon the one with his other halves in it he always saw something different in their expressions, sometimes it was anger; anger that the teen couldn't pull himself out of this rut. Other times it was sadness; sadness that they were gone and couldn't help their strawberry. But currently it was nothing but a blood stained memory, the back of the photograph had been splashed with the few brave drops of blood that had dared stray from the pool and it just seem to fit. That was how he remembered them anyway, always strong and ready for battle, not afraid to bleed for Ichigo if he couldn't win the battle alone. The thought made him queasy and he quickly shoved the box into the closet by all of the other random boxes. He stood and held his head, why was he suddenly feeling so uneasy? A cold chill ran up his spine and he gave a faint shiver, how odd. . .

Ichigo walked down the stairs and tugged his hoodie's sleeves down in a paranoid manner, Yuzu hadn't come back up to his room and after a few minutes of sitting on his bed starring into space he had thrown on his favorite black hoodie with a little heart over where one's own should be. The little heart was bleeding and just below it standing all alone was a teddy bear with a sad look on his face and a heart-shaped hole where his own little organ should have been. It was cute in a morbid sort of way. His chocolate hues scanned the kitchen where he found his little sister minding the tea.

"Konbanwa, Ichi-nii." Her tired voice wafted through the air like a soft breeze. She followed her words with a yawn and she turned to flash him a warm, loving smile. "Are you ready for tea? It's almost done, sorry it took so long but dad and Karin wanted a cup as well."

"Oh, yes, thank you." It was obvious by her tone of voice that she was well past her limit and was more than ready to go to bed. Ichigo sent a sympathetic smile in her direction as he pillowed his arms below his chin on the table. He tried to find a comfortable way to lie his head down but he couldn't help but flinch when something would rub up against his cuts. . .Oh well, at least it let him know he was still here and not just a shell of what he used to be.

"Here you are~" A small little cup was sat down in front of his face, a gentle smell of cinnamon assaulted his senses and he smiled warmly at the small woody colored cup. Once again, Yuzu had proved to be too good for him, she knew that cinnamon tea was his favorite.

"Anata wa dōmo arigatō " Ichigo grabbed onto the cup with both hands and lifted it to his lips. It was so warm, the heat drifted past the exterior of the cup and into his hands. It was so pleasant, another shiver left his spine at the warmth that consumed his body and mind. He put his pale pink lips to the cup and took a large gulp taking nearly half the glass in one swig. The delicious taste lingered in his mouth and the warm brew leaked down to his core, a tingling feeling covered his body and he could feel sleep suddenly pull at his senses, this tea always made him sleepy. Maybe that's why he loved it so much, it always set his mind to ease.

"Goodnight Ichi-nii. Have pleasant dreams." Yuzu's voice lingered for a moment as she rushed up the stairs to her room. It was good to know that she was going to bed, it was getting late.

Ichigo swirled the liquid in his glass and watched it turn and spin like a small whirlpool, it was interesting for a split moment but the moment was lost when the urge to finish the drink overtook the teen. He downed the rest of the warm tea and sat his glass in the sink. He placed his hand onto his covered wound and rubbed them in a soothing way, even if the feeling was practically lost due to the fact that he was trying to do so through a medium layer of clothing, but it was the thought that counted anyway. He stayed like that for awhile, just staring at nothing in particular while he waited for the silence to engulf him. And it did, it devoured him and held him close, it used to be that silence was a dreaded thing because of the fact that when the silence was around it gave leeway to the voices in his head. . .But now that the voices where gone the silence was just that. Silence. Unforgiving and disgusted with who he had become. Ichigo's eyes drifted to the door and he walked over to it, locking it before he carried on his way, slowly making his way up the stairs into his room. It was late and even if he hated it he still had school in the morning so for now he would give into the tug of sleep at his eyes and fall into a dreamless sleep.


key:

我々はあなたが一護を決して忘れません - We'll never forget you, Ichigo

Anata wa dōmo arigatō - Thank you very much

'-Nii' - Refers to a brother

Konbanwa - Good evening

Usa- Bunny

'-chan' - refers to something cute or sweet, usually used at the end of girls names or in some cases small animals and young boys

Well, here I am again. This was inspired by the latest chapters and I've been meaning to get this off my chest sooner but I've had crap to do. Let me know what you think.

Love it? Hate it? want to throw it into a blender then burn it alive? Review and let me know your feelings! Constructive criticism is welcomed! :3

Sorry it's so short, Just wanted to get it out to know what you think!