[ A / N ] To start this off, I am 100% American and I don't really know any of Japan's customs. The only things I know come from reading other stories on this site and asking my anime-obsessed friends [I've only watched Bleach as of right now. When I've caught up with it, I will start watching others, esp. Death Note, Black Butler, Blue Exorcist and Ouran High School Host Club]. If anything I have is wrong, please feel free to correct me.
[ ] I do not own Bleach in any way. All rights go to Tite Kuba, author of the manga.
For every bone I break,
for every word you say,
I'm just a lover. I'm afraid.
Run now, get away from me.
Run now, don't come back to me.
I saw a long way from my place at Sōkyoku Hill. It overlooked the Seireitei, and I could see every individual building. I kept my gaze on the view, not trusting myself to look up and see Ichigo. I knew he was going to die in a matter of minutes. And it was all my fault. Hence, I couldn't trust myself to look up at the orange-haired boy and keep my emotions in. I just couldn't.
Nii-sama was in front of me, his captain's uniform whipping around him in the wind. My white tekkō was blowing with the wind as well. I focused on the small of his back, willing him to even show a morsel or sorrow or remorse. But of course, the almighty Kuchiki Byakuya never shows emotion. He'd rather uphold the Soul Society's laws than invest himself in somebody, including me.
When the fire of the Sōkyoku lighted us all, I then dared to look up. The sight before me shocked me. Ichigo was there, that was certain, but what he was doing astounded me. He was grinning, arms in front of him and blocking the Sōkyoku's soul-destroying blow. But there was something wrong about the picture before me.
First of all, Ichigo shouldn't have the power to block the Sōkyoku's blow. He was still just a Soul Reaper, though his Reiatsu is exceptionally high and his Reiryoku was even stronger. Still, that didn't mean that an average Soul Reaper - a substitute one at that! - could stop the Sōkyoku without a Zanpakutō. The sun's glare impaired my vision slightly, so I couldn't see the entirety of his form.
Suì-Fēng gasped. "This can't be," escaped her lips as she stared up in a mixture or horror and amazement. I followed her gaze which, once the sun disappeared behind a sea of clouds, was directly at his face. And what I saw resonated a deep terror in me.
Half of Ichigo's face was covered in the white mask of a Hollow's. Maniacal laughter escaped him as he pushed his arms outwards from him, sending the Sōkyoku flying away from him. When it did, it disappeared into the air, the flames dying into nothing. He somehow broke free from the restraints and hurling himself to the ground. When he landed, it created a large crater and dirt arose into the air.
When we waited for it to clear, all of us tensed with apprehension. Never in the history of the Soul Society had someone done such a feat. It was unheard of, being able to do such a thing.
Once it cleared and i could see Ichigo, my heart stopped. It wasn't Ichigo. It couldn't be. The Hollow mask on his face seemed to be . . . possessing him. His eyes were black with bright yellow pupils and his lips stretched into a malevolent grin.
"Tried to kill me, didn't you?" The voice wasn't Ichigo's. It belonged to someone else yet it came from Ichigo. While I tried to mull this over, Ichigo started to have a conversation with himself.
"Face it, Ichigo. If it wasn't for me, then you would be dead!" It cackled before pausing, a reply coming from somewhere within. "Oh, you fool. You can't survive in your human form. You need my help." The conversation carried out like this for some time.
The captains around me where looking for some way to attack, wanting to kill the person who escaped their highest form of execution.
Ichigo noticed this and stopped talking with himself and focused on the people staring at him. "Oh, you want to kill me? Try. Have a go at me. But you won't succeed." He ended with a bout of maniacal laughter. As he was laughing, Ōmaeda Marechiyo drew his Zanpakutō, rushing towards Ichigo. However, Ichigo side-stepped his attack and grinned. "Is that all you've got?" When Ōmaeda went for another attack, he grabbed the blade of the Zanpakutō, eliciting a gasp from the captains and their lieutenants.
"Try again," he said before slicing Ōmaeda with the sword, a spot of blood coming from the cut on his shoulder. I stared at Ichigo in horror.
I knew it wasn't Ichigo, that the Hollow mask was possessing him but it was his face, his body his everything. The color of his eyes and voice reminded me it really wasn't Ichigo but I couldn't help but wonder.
Stepping forward, I quietly asked, "who are you." He turned towards me, lips curling upwards into a smirk.
"Well, I'm me, of course! But if you want a real answer, little girl, I'm Zangetsu, the spirit of Ichigo's Zanpakutō." He smiled again, wickedly as my eyes widened and jaw dropped. I gave him the reaction he had hoped for. "And you must be Rukia Kuchiki. Ichigo thinks about you a lot. You're always on his thoughts and I must say, it becomes terribly annoying after the first minute."
My eyes widened at the revelation that Ichigo thinks about me. The action is reciprocated, Carrot-Top, I thought.
Sasakibe Chōjirō charged at Zangetsu, his Zanpakutō raised just like Ōmaeda did. He was faster yet Zangetsu parried the move with the Zanpakutō he picked up from Ōmaeda. "Not good enough," he hissed before stabbing him through the chest.
"You have to tackled with the intent to kill," he cried, drawing his sword out of Sasakibe's chest. Blood stained the silver metal, dripping off and splattering onto the ground.
"Anyone else wants to take a go at me?" Everyone was still and quiet.
"No one? Okay, I'll be back. Look out, Kuchiki." He disappeared with shun-po, leaving the sword behind.
Another thing stayed as well: his maniacal laughter.