For Chick2015 on ao3. Prompt: ichigo loses control of his hollow and its up to shinji to calm him before he kills his loved ones?
He's felt it in his head for days. This constant thump-thump like a drum. Never ending and painful.
He knows that Shinji has noticed. He looks older, somehow, as if just being around him lately has stressed him beyond the breaking point. "Are ya okay?" Shinji asks often. He always says yes.
One day he'll break. He knows it, his family know it, Shinji knows it. It's not a matter of if, but when.
So he leaves before he shatters.
…
The simple gold ring on his finger reminds him of what he's lost. He can still remember when Shinji gave it to him, months and months ago. It seems like such a faraway thing now.
And, to add to it, Tokyo isn't what he remembers.
The pounding doesn't stop, and he catches himself looking at people on the streets- innocents, civilians- and wondering what it would be like to taste. To feel them crumble beneath his fingers and play to his melody, to beg and scream and.
He scares himself sometimes, so he runs.
He sees the MISSING posters with his name and picture on them and moves on.
…
His first kill is planned.
The guy looks at little girls that look like Yuzu so he takes his life in the night. It's messy. There's blood everywhere but he knows there are no fingerprints. The splatters on the wall slide down in a gruesome display, and he feels proud. He feeds, and he is repulsed, but he can't stop himself. It's like watching from far away and the world looks faded, like black and white and sepia. He screams.
He used his Shinigami form. There will be no one coming after him. He is Tokyo's new phantom killer and he hates it. Every damn second. He can feel himself slipping away.
The thrumming in his head dims for a while and he actually sleeps. The man's wife returns the next morning, and her bags from the airport hit the floor and she screams.
He glides out the window and finds his body and starts to run. He doesn't know where to and he doesn't care. Not really. He is heading out, deeper into the city, and gradually the window behind him feels less and less like it's staring after him.
Some back, you monster.
…
Hiyori is on the side of the road, tapping her foot and scowling. Overall, he supposes, she looks normal.
He turns and walks the other way. He would like to taste her, now. And that scares him more than anything because she's his family.
…
He goes on a bit of a rampage and he finds it harder to recall what he does. He wakes up every morning farther from his hometown and no idea how he got there.
The trees look unfamiliar and so do the people. He ran out of cash a while ago, and all that's left are the shoes on his feet with holes and his keys and his shirt and pants. It is not at all what he imagined his life would turn into.
...
Shinji finds him four months after he left. He's half-starved, dirty, and wild, caught in a maelstrom he can't break out of. Shinji throws his arms around his shoulders and fights to pull him back from his latest kill. The woman yells and cries and Shinji yells, "Run, you stupid woman!" and she is gone. He snarls and punches the blond in the head.
The blond falls with a shout and he starts to run out of the alley. But Kensei is there like a bodyguard, and he knocks him out as soon as he's close enough.
He can't understand the words, but he sees Shinji and a part of him bleeds like a new wound when he sees the fresh bruise on his cheekbone. He blacks out.
…
He wakes up tied to a chair.
"Why didn't ya tell me?"
Shinji sounds upset. Wounded. "I coulda helped ya sooner, before ya decided ta start killing people."
"I didn't decide to do it," he says. "I don't remember most of it."
"That doesn't make it better! People are dead!" Shinji shouts, and he cowers, closing his eyes to the noise. He knows. And he's been biting at himself with guilt since the first time.
"I'm sorry," Shinji says. "Let me help ya."
He pulls in a breath and nods. "Yeah, okay," he agrees.
He doesn't expect Shinji to draw Sakanade and he doesn't expect the familiar blade to sink into the ropes tying him down. Shinji levels the blade at his throat and says grimly, "Then let me help. Fight back, mask on." And he strikes.
He stumbles and snarls, feeling entirely unlike himself and unbalanced, dizzy with shock and relief and hurt. It's hard to keep up with Shinji, it's hard to stay strong. He's weak from malnourishment and weeks out in the sun and it isn't long before Shinji cuts through the muscles in his arm. He cries out and Shinji wavers for just one second before diving back in.
He blocks and parries and dodges and soon he collapses.
The dizziness doesn't go away but the pounding in his head turns into something less insistent. The world comes into focus. Shinji looks tired, and his mask melts away. "Alright, Ichigo?" he asks.
He nods. For the first time in a long time, he thinks that's true.
…
A light broth for dinner and a hot shower later finds him with Shinji in their bedroom, kissing lazily. "I missed ya. Ya worry me to death, kid," Shinji says, running his hands through orange hair.
He snorts and grins. "I'm a wanderer. I dissipate like the wind, so you have to catch me and maybe you wouldn't worry so much," he says.
"So I have ta do all the work in this relationship?"
"Yes. That's what you signed up for when you asked me to marry you."
Shinji sighs, a fond look in his eyes. "I guess it is," he agrees.
He tugs the blond down on top of him and pulls lightly at his hair. "Come on. Let's make up for lost time," he says. Shinji grins, and he laughs, and Shinji swallows the noise with a kiss.