"There's a little black spot on the sun today,

That's my soul up there."

Sting: 'King of Pain'

When the dream began, he held his breath with his eyes closed.

He could feel.

Wind whispered around his ears, and he felt it stir to life the hair teasing at his ears, the clothes resting on his body, the soul lying stagnant within his heart.

He could hear.

It sang quietly, like a breath after a long pause, and stirred unease into the strung out tendrils of his senses that he himself could not hope to explain.

He could taste.

It was a bitter brine of newly thawed water; still cold on his lips as he breathed out a lamenting hesitance to an audience he could not see.

He could smell.

The faint, ominous tinge of ash on the wind as it flowed around him in intricate knots, promising a fire whose warmth was yet too far away for him to know.

And from all this, minute, detailed input, it was no wonder why he was unabashedly afraid of opening his eyes to see what lay before him. His heart was clenched in a juxtaposing set of waves, washing in and out of his mind as the fleeting thoughts raced to gain purchase against the overwhelming input of his heart.

From that, all he could draw was that no matter how afraid he was, no matter how much his instincts were telling him to turn tail and flee, he had a duty.

To open his eyes and see the truth in all of its gruesome glory, no matter what.

So he obeyed, and opened his eyes.

There could have been nothing more frightening to his waking eyes than the scene that played out before them then, and there could have been no more stable a reason for this other than the idea that what he saw, though apparently normal to any science or logic, was screaming with tragic wrong to every fiber of his mind.

There were mountains, boulders, jagged peaks yielding into a piercing blue sky, strangely unhindered by clouds, gray quarries stretching for miles in violent angles of discord as they sloped down unto unseen horizons beyond the limited vision of his eyes. And there was an orange glow from far off in the distance, of a deep-breathing flame.

But to the strangely far-seeing gaze of his mind, there was not a trace, microscopic or otherwise, of snow or ice. No flutter of movement, no trace of chill, no tinge of fear for the cold that should have been there. And that absence, of snow, of ice, of peace, left an equally draining hole in his heart, and as his eyes raked the scene, the pain seemed to grow as the dawning realization came to him that he was, without question…

Damningly alone.

"This can't be," he said to himself, and his throat was terribly tight as he spoke, an almost tearful rasp to his voice as a strange level of uncertainty began to take root in his mind. It was almost as if the absence of snow had somehow robbed him of his will to speak, as it was starkly unusual for him to speak in any voice other than one that was loud and presenting.

But now, he found, all he could manage was a hoarse whisper in the backlash of the unknown loss tormenting his heart.

"You're right 'bout that at least, Majesty," a warped voice whispered from behind him, and he turned with wide auburn eyes to face the speaker he had grudgingly come to know so well.

The pallid reflection of his own face stared back at him, yellow eyes glinting in the light with a contrasting dark shine, the characteristically wide smile solemnly absent from the Hollow's features. If he of all people was serious, it only spoke more affirmation to what his senses were already telling him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his brown eyes narrowing in suspicion. Though he doubted the cause lay in him alone, even his involvement was cause for immediate worry.

"I don't trust leavin' ya alone in this place," the Hollow answered darkly, and a shiver of dread began to bed between his shoulders. "The old man don't either."

His fiery brows began to furrow. It seemed that even the inner sanctums of himself were uncomfortable with this place, wherever it was.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked then.

The alabaster head shook in denial of his statement, the amber eyes looking back up at him sharply. "Hell no. You're the one that saw it in the first place, Majesty. Just cuz ya can't recognize it ain't no fault o' mine."

The teen growled at himself, the previously growing shiver easily transitioning into frustration as his nerves began to mount to a heady peak. "But how do I know this place? None of this makes any sense!"

Before the hallowed side of himself could answer, and angry scream tore through the air. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and his heart thundered in panic. It was the cry of a demon, the thrashing violence evident even in its cry, and though he could hear its echo, and knew it to yet be far away, it did not stop the onslaught of fear from tempting at his heart.

No hollow, human, or creature, could ever have made such a noise.

As he looked about in his fright, his auburn eyes began to notice ripples threading across his dream, distorting its once crystal clear image as he realized with just as much panic that the vision was fading. He felt as if he were scrambling up a steep slope as he tried to cling to the dream despite its dark effect on him, knowing that there was something that needed to be done with the information he had just taken in.

Something fatally important.

Whirling to face the reverse of himself, he cried out over the sudden gust of wind that had aroused in his turmoil, only to have his voice, still hoarse and weak, drown out by the wind. But when the opposite side of the duo opened his mouth, the black orifice had the strange effect of seeming to slow down time, as the wind died, and the moment in which he spoke seemed to draw out for lifetimes.

"Resonance."

When the dream ended, he held his breath with his eyes closed.

He could feel the panic still wracking through his body, though now he could feel the bed beneath him, the warmth of the first rays of sun resting on his face as the sensation, robbed in his panic, began to return to him. He opened his eyes slowly, sitting up and trying valiantly to get breath back into his stiff chest.

He looked out his window as realization came crashing down on him, and noted with a grave dread that on the sun, just rising over the roll of the horizon, there was a small black spot.

Leaping out of his bed and taking one stride over to his closet, he threw open the door he knew his Shinigami companion was sleeping behind. Aroused by the sudden movement, she opened her eyes blearily, staring at him with a confused and worried expression, her normally wide eyes widening at some feature unseen to him.

It was probably the lack of color in his face, but he could not be sure.

"Rukia," he said, his voice still tight, "we need to go to the Soul Soceity, now."

"Why, Ichigo?"

He weighed his words. "There's something wrong with Captain Hitsugaya."

She bolted upright, her hard-earned training instantly relaying the gravity of the situation to her as she began to truly awaken. "How can you be sure?"

"Because, I just saw his inner world burning."

Hello again, and I'm back for the time being. I've been thoroughly getting into BLEACH lately, and I've been forming this plot for about a month now, so I thought I might get to it. And, for those of you who are severely confused, that's good. You probably won't understand what's going on at least for another two chapters. I know that this one is short, it was meant to be. And also for your reference, this is post-DDR, as it was already referenced in the chapter. I apologize in advance if the style isn't very good; I was a bit hyped up off of the District 9 music score, so it may be kind of off. This fic is the first of a 2-part series, which I plan on working on whenever I can. Hopefully consistently, because I really like the plot. This is a yaoi, though I will not tell you the pairing yet, otherwise that would spoil the fun. (Unless you can guess it, in which case you're smart and deserve praise.) In any case, I am in need of some help with the second fic, as I have yet to decide the pairing in it. I have the plot laid out, but I need the other half of the romance. Please vote in a review, and I will follow your input. Here are the potential pairings for FIC-2:

Shuuhei-Byakuya

Shuuhei-Renji

Shuuhei-Kensei

Shuuhei-Ikkaku

Thanks all, and Merry Christmas!

8-90's love,

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