The vibrant haired teen sighed, shaking his head as the cool breeze from the open window caressed his heated skin. It was always like this anyway. His other would always disappear the next day.

Nothing too new. They'd battle, crash, and then the Hollow would vanish. It's not like he wanted to see the demon's sleeping form, not at all.

Yet still...the bleached form would always hold back in their fights, he could just feel it in their colliding blades.

His auburn eyes gazed out the window. Now that he thought about it, there hasn't been too much Hollow activity for almost four days now. He had to admit, he loved Summer Vacation, but...when he has nothing to do, he just wishes it would end quickly.

The lightly tanned teen leaned back, his head plopping down on the pillow, soft as always. Nothing changed.

Nothing.

His chestnut orbs closed slowly, his mind trying to wrap around why the albino would hold back while he fought, unlike the times he was obsessed with becoming 'King' and taking over.

Reopening his eyes, he blinked, seeing that Shiro was standing with his back turned to him, staring down on the glass he was in front of him, noting that the alabaster hands were curled into tight fists.

Why is he holding back? Was written, scratched, carved with a sword into the porcelain glass. He's acting strange lately...why...?

The duplicate's face scrunched itself up, as if disgusted with the teen's questions, hate running swiftly in his veins. Explaining would be in vain, he decided that a long time ago.

When the questions hadn't decorated the endless windows.

Shiro turned, seeing that Ichigo was standing next to him, staring down on the glass, tilting his head to the side to stare into Shiro's brilliant golden-black.

Ichigo glanced back down on the writing, heart halting to a stop, his breath snatched away from him, swearing that this was his other's inner thoughts, the ones he never knew was written down on memory.

I'm broken...

The orange haired Kurosaki backed up immediately, tripping over his own feet and falling down onto the ground with a loud gasp, his auburn eyes widening as he felt warm fingers wrap around his wrist, being yanked back up by the albino, who closed his eyes.

I need someone to fix me...

The vibrant haired shinigami stared at the writing, eyes full of confusion as his gaze trailed back to the ivory colored form, watching him turn and slip out of sight.

Shun-po... he thought as his eyes fell halfway shut, slowly sitting down and pressing his hand onto the glass, seeing it crack under the pressure, words being written over the others.

Only...my King can heal me...

And then the window shattered, millions of pieces splitting and falling down into the abyss as Ichigo's eyes widened, his hand stained in his own blood, a few pieces of glass in his flesh. Turning his hand, he lifted his other hand, coiling three fingers around the fragment, plucking them out as he finally saw the blood form word.

Only you can fix me...

He looked up with wide eyes. Only to be the one person around in this upside-down world.

The only one able to know Shiro's darkest desires, wants, and thoughts.

Please fix me...

This story was just something that came to mind...I thank Nakimochiku for writing that story where Shiro wrote words that Ichigo said were lies, it inspired me to write this story. Also the song: Fix me by Velvet. There might be a sequel added to this as another chapter...or this might become a story.

Please review.