Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, Ichigo, Zangetsu, or Shiro. Sadly.
Warning: Angst, Hurt, Character Death.
Rating: M, it's vicious.
Summary: Shiro is broken by Ichigo's rejection. He decides to show Ichigo exactly what he thinks.
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A/N: "There isn't a god that can save us all"
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THUD
Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
THUD
Again, Ichigo ignored the repeated thuds coming from the other end of the room. He turned his back to the noise and continued his homework, hoping to get it done before dark. It was a Friday and Ichigo didn't want to be cooped up in the house with this . . . thing for any longer than he had to.
THUD- WHACK!
"Owwwwwww!"
Ichigo turned at the noise, and was rewarded by the sight of Shiro holding his head in his hands and Zangetsu disappearing around the corner, Pole of Doom in hand. Ichigo raised his eyebrow while looking at Shiro with some sort of contempt, as if to question his sanity. Shiro responded by sticking his tongue out, picking up his Jumbo Bouncy-Ball™, and bouncing it off the wall again.
THUD pause
THUD pause
THUD pause
THUD
Ichigo looked back over his shoulder at the sounds of struggle coming from his doorway.
"Ge' off me, ye fuckin' junkie, I said GE' OFFA ME! Mmmmphmm..." Ichigo listened to Shiro struggle in vain. He heard Zangetsu hit him with something again.
"Ichigo" Zangetsu said.
"Yeah?"
"Entertain him. I have things to do. Besides, he is your boyfriend..." Zangetsu left the room, picking up the Jumbo Bouncy-Ball™ on his way out. Ichigo winced at the word 'boyfriend', and looked over to Shiro, who had a large welt across his face. Shiro smirked.
"C'mon Ichi, ye heard th' ol' junkie, yer s'posed te entertain me."
Ichigo looked at Shiro and laughed. He rummaged through drawers until he found a package of crayons. He threw them at Shiro.
"There. Entertain yourself," he grumbled before turning back to his work that never seemed to get finished. "Stupid Hollow."
Shiro P.O.V.
'Stupid Hollow?' I thought. 'What the hell! I'll show him...' I dumped the crayons all over the floor angrily. I started picking them up and breaking them in to little pieces, one at a time. I sat there grumbling to myself for a few minutes, and then I just sat. I sat and thought.
I thought of the good times we used to have together, before the war. Before Ichigo changed. He used to care about me. We used to have such fun. I could make him laugh; I could make him blush. I smirked; I could make that boy scream.
A single tear rolled down my cheek. I never thought Hollows could feel emotions, but this boy proved me wrong. I...loved him. Maybe he used to love me, I don't know. He sure as hell doesn't now.
I pulled myself back to the present before I collapsed into tears. I was suddenly struck with an epiphany. A/N: And NO. It didn't hurt. I knew what I was going to do with the crayons. I pulled the red, blue, and black crayons out of the box and put them to the side. I would need those later. I turned my attention back to the rest of the crayons. I broke the remaining ones into little pieces, like the rest of them, and made a pile.
flick
Oops. That one hit the wall. I had to work on my aim.
flick
Shit. That bit hit the desk. I cursed and grabbed a handful of crayon bits. I could see Ichigo clutching his pen rather stiffly by now.
I giggled and hurled the handful of crayons at him. He was peppered by a multitude of colorful pieces of crayon. I giggled madly and rolled around on the floor.
Ichigo flew from his seat in a matter of seconds and loomed over me, a pissed look on his face.
"Cut the shit, I'm trying to work," he growled. I looked up at him from my position on the floor. I grinned evilly and kicked Ichigo's knees. "Oof!" he exclaimed as he fell, rather awkwardly, on top of me.
"Well, Ichi, how ya doin'?" I asked giggling. He had landed straddling my waist. He growled, got up and kicked me in the leg. 'Ow. That really hurt...but I can't let Ichi know that...'
"...stupid...fucking kicked me..." Ichigo was muttering incoherently as he grabbed his leather jacket off the desk chair. I was still laying on the floor watching him. He walked out the door without a backward glance. I sighed. Same old Ichi, always pushing away from people. He hadn't even acknowledged my presence in the house until a few days ago. Then all he did was grunt at me when I asked him a question.
Dumb Shinigami. I felt depressed now. On a usual night, back when we were more than friends, he would cuddle with me in his bed and we would listen to his iPod together. He would fall asleep in my arms, as happy as can be.
I rolled over and got up. I walked over to Ichigo's desk; I rummaged around in his drawers for a few seconds until I found what I was looking for; his iPod. I took it, slouched over to his bed, and plopped down on the covers. I inhaled the scent on the sheets, god how I missed it. A tear slipped down my cheek as I curled into the scent of my beloved Ichigo. I played old songs, songs we used to sing together, not caring who heard or what they thought, until I fell asleep; silently crying.
Regular P.O.V.
Ichigo thudded down the stairs with his leather jacket slung over his arm. He was sick and tired of dealing with Shirosaki, especially after all this time. It had been almost three months since the battle with Aizen, and Ichigo hadn't spoken a kind word to Shiro since the battle had ended.
They used to have an amazing relationship. They were the best of friends, and the best of lovers. The day that Ichigo fought against Aizen, he was losing terribly. He had lost a lot of blood, and was losing consciousness. Shiro had been badgering him to step in and let him help, but Ichigo refused, he wanted to be able to do this by himself. Shiro wasn't having that though; he pushed and shoved his way to the front of Ichigo's mind. He took over just before Ichigo lost consciousness.
The battle was won; Aizen, Gin, and Kaname were defeated. Ichigo woke up in his father's clinic, wrapped up and strapped together. Shiro was hovering over the bed, a worried look plastered on his face. Ichigo remembered what happened next with a vivid clarity that would seem like it had only happened yesterday...
Ichigo's P.O.V. (memory)
I looked up to see the bright white lights of the Clinic flickering feebly over my head. I felt drowsy, but I forced my eyelids to stay up. Shiro was sitting to my left, holding my hand, and looking like he hadn't slept in days.
"How...how long?" I asked, my voice quivering with fatigue.
"'Bout three days now," Shiro spoke softly. "Yer doin' a lot better than before though," he added, grimacing. He didn't look comfortable where he was, as if he was waiting to get reprimanded for doing something bad. I closed my eyes and thought about the last thing I remembered.
We were in Hueco Mundo, Renji, Rukia, Byakuya, Uryuu, and Orihime were the only ones left fighting. The others had either perished or returned to the Serietei. Gin, Tousen, and six of the Espada were dead. Renji was fighting Halibel, Rukia to Nnoitra, Byakuya to Ulquoirra, and Uryuu to Szayel Aporro Granz. I had taken the Hougyoku, and I was battling Aizen to the death.
From what I remembered, I had released my Bankai, and Shiro was pestering me about letting him take control. I didn't want to, I knew I could defeat Aizen by myself. The last thing I remembered was Shiro forcing his way into my body, and shoving me into unconsciousness.
I opened my eyes and glared at Shiro. "How could you do that to me when you knew how important it was that I finish that battle?" I said angrily, removing my hand from his. His expression didn't change one bit, and I assumed that he had expected nothing less.
"You were losing, King. It was th' only thing I could do te keep ya alive. Nobody knows King, I made sure of it," Shiro looked earnestly into my eyes as he spoke, as if to convey the urgency of the situation.
"I don't care!" I had nearly yelled, startling him in the process. "I needed to fight that! I can't believe you could be selfish enough to do something like that!" I screamed at him until I broke down in tears.
I couldn't handle it anymore, so I pushed the pain out of my life. Shiro was that pain. He still stayed at the house, but I almost never acknowledged him, and if I did, it was to make a rude remark, to yell at him for causing trouble, or to bitch at when I was in a bad mood. It was sad to see what was happening...
Regular P.O.V.
Ichigo emerged from the memories of his past and looked up at the neon sign hanging above him. He sighed, walked in, and claimed a stool. Ichigo spent the night as he usually would, sitting at a bar, drinking all of his memories away.
Shiro P.O.V.
I woke up to an empty room. I lay on the bed and let yesterdays memories wash over me. Zangetsu smashing me in the face with his stupid Pole of Doom. Which fucking HURT, by the way. I think I actually had a bruise from that. Ichigo had grumbled and bitched last night, I remembered. He gave me crayons, haha, which I threw at him...
OMG! THE CRAYONS!
I scrambled around the bed until I found the crushed carton of crayons under me. Thankfully, the three remaining crayons hadn't been broken. I grinned maniacally; I could start my project too, seeing as Ichi wasn't here. I pulled the blue crayon from the pile, climbed onto the desk, and began my work.
Regular P.O.V.
Ichigo got back to the house around noon. He had ended up at one of his college buddies houses last night, and he was too wasted to even be able to find his way home. He thumped in the door and kicked his shoes off. He glanced in the kitchen: no one. He looked into the living room; Zangetsu glared at him from the couch.
"I couldn't get home last night," Ichigo said. He hadn't called, so of course Mr. Hippie-Junkie-Man would be pissed.
"Coulda called. Keys. Now," the dark haired man said without a change of expression. Ichigo sighed and threw his uncle his car keys. He took his punishment without complaint and turned to go up to his room.
"Where's Shiro?" Ichigo asked, pausing at the foot of the stairs.
"In your room, I presume. That's where he usually holes himself up all day," Zangetsu said. No emotion, how predictable. Ichigo sighed. He didn't really want to have to deal with the Hollow right now. Shiro was known to be especially obnoxious whenever Ichigo had a hangover. Ichigo continued up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself.
He opened the door to his room expecting to find Shiro sprawled across the floor making a mess of something as usual. Instead, he was faced with a lot of blue. That didn't make any sense to Ichigo at first because, a- his walls were white, and b- his brain wouldn't seem to process what he was seeing for the first ten seconds that he stood there.
Ichigo finally blinked and looked around the room. His walls. He walked slowly to the center of his room and turned slowly, studying the writing.
There was so much of it. It looked as if Shiro had started writing in his untidy scrawl right above Ichigo's desk. The words 'REMEMBER WHEN...' were written there, and trailing all over the room, from a few words to sentences in length, memories decorated the walls. Ichigo started to read them slowly.
1)... we used to play together in the park, and jump in the autumn leaves?
2)... we started to walk home from school and hold hands?
3)... our first kiss?
4)... you met me?
The memories went on and on and Ichigo walked around the room, his fingers trailing lightly along the raised texture of the crayon. He saw one that made his heart stop...
42)... our last day together? - i do
Ichigo spun on his heel. That last memory was on the wall directly above his bed. He didn't want to see any more. He was done; he couldn't take it. His eyes searched the room for signs of Shiro as he left, but there were none. He wanted to throttle that damn Hollow for scribbling all over his walls with his useless drabble.
Ichigo pounded down the stairs, two at a time, all the while grumbling incoherently to himself.
"stupid Hollow...crayons...lies...fuckin' bitch..." Ichigo muttered as he walked towards the door.
"And just where do you think your going?" a deep voice interrupted Ichigo and his mindless rambling. Ichigo looked up; a blank expression in his face for a few seconds before he realized that it was Zangetsu who spoke.
"Out," he responded automatically, in a sharp tone.
"Where?" the Hippie-man asked, not once breaking his eye contact with the Television.
"I dunno," Ichigo said. "I just gotta go," and with that he disappeared out the door and into the blazing sun of the July afternoon. His feet carried him in no apparent direction, and all Ichigo knew was that the crayon on the wall would bring him no peace.
Shiro P.O.V.
I came out from the bathroom and padded silently down to my room. I smiled as I entered and saw all the writing. I wondered what Ichigo's reaction would be when he saw it. I wondered if he would remember. After getting dressed, I wandered downstairs to find something to eat and ask Zangetsu when Ichigo would be home.
I sauntered into the kitchen and over to the fridge. I opened the door and leaned against it, looking for something to eat. I sighed; I guess cold pizza would have to do. I grabbed a slice and chomped off the end of it. I munched on it contentedly as I went into the living room where Zangetsu was watching T.V. I leaned against the doorframe, and finished my slice of pizza.
"Hey ol' man, where's Ichi?" I asked after I had chugged the soda I had brought into the living room with me. Zangetsu looked up at me with a mildly surprised expression on his face. 'Wow,' I thought, 'I actually got an expression out of the ol' hippie...'
"He left about twenty minutes ago," Zanny said. "Made an awful ruckus stormin' around upstairs. It's a wonder you didn't hear him."
I blanked. Ichigo has already been here? He'd seen the walls? Depression sunk in as I realized that the memories must've made him angry. Shit. I felt the anger at the Shinigami burn its way through my veins as his rejection sunk in. He had never wanted me at all. I'll make him regret it. I bounded up the stairs leaving Zangetsu-Hippie-Junkie on the couch watching me. I closed the door to my room behind me and picked up the black crayon.
I closed my eyes and let all of the pain, hurt, and rejection wash over me. I let all of the bad memories wash through my head. The abuse, the pain, and the heartache he had caused me. I let all the hurt bubble to the surface and I began scratching the bad memories onto the wall. In black
I stood back and admired my work. I wasn't satisfied though; there was still empty space on the walls. 'I guess it's time for the lies' I thought as I picked up the red crayon.
Regular P.O.V.
Ichigo looked up at the sign. It blinked Freezia in alternating blue and green. Ichigo sighed inwardly, and turned to walk slowly back to the house. He didn't know what he was doing, or why he had gone back to the bar, it had taken him the rest of the afternoon to walk there from the house. His feet trudged up the sidewalk as the orange-haired teen walked home.
Shiro P.O.V.
I lay on Ichigo's bed. I was finishing the last lie. There was red, blue, and black all over the walls. The largest spot of red was next to me on the wall. I listed my hand and smeared the lie with my finger. It was the only thing on the walls that was 'finger-painted' per say. I pushed myself up using my good arm. I defined the 'you' in the last lie. I noticed that my vision was starting to blur and I could see blackness creeping along the edges.
I managed to plant my hand on the wall to try to pull myself up, but I collapsed on the bed. I looked at the streaked handprint I left and grinned. 'Nice touch' I thought before I lifted the muzzle of the .45 to my head.
'I love you Ichigo,' and then everything went black.
Ichigo P.O.V.
I walked into the house and kicked off my shoes. I just wanted to sleep. I threw my jacket on the bench and trudged up the stairs. I wondered if that damn Hollow had decided to show up yet. I shook my head. Zangetsu was going to kill him when he saw the walls.
I opened the door to my room. Again, the walls assaulted me. They were now covered, completely covered. There were the happier memories that I had read earlier; those were in blue. There was also black and red crayon on the walls now. The black, I assumed held all the pain that Shiro went through. I crumpled a bit on the inside as I read some of them.
My brain finally decided to start working again. Or so I thought. All it was telling me was that Shiro loved me more than anyone I knew did. I couldn't come to accept that. He betrayed me. I looked at the red crayon and flinched. I remembered a lot of the red. They were the lies. The abuse. I shuddered at to what I could have possibly put that boy through.
There was a large red lie along the wall next to his bed. Ichigo noticed a few things simultaneously. The lie above the bed said 'LOOK WHAT YOU DID WITH ALL YOUR FUCKING DRUGS AND BOOZE', and it wasn't written in crayon, it was blood. Shiro's blood. He was on the bed, and he was dead.
I staggered numbly to the bedside. Shiro's hair was bloodstained and there was a .45 in his hand. I let the sobs come, and they wracked my body, I was shaking with pain. I couldn't believe this had happened. I was truly a terrible person, but through everything that Shiro had done, it had brought to light one thing I knew I never should have forgotten. I pressed my lips to his.
"I love you."
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A/N: Well? Do you like it? I know it's kind of sad and depressing, but I wrote it when I was having the lonelies.