-1Title: Symphony of Destruction

Rating: 13+

Genre: Angst/Romance

Roots: Bleach

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I never will. Bleach © Tite Kubo.

Author's Notes: Nyaaaaaah! I return from the dead. My Dead Poet's Society club at school inspired me. Seriously, I had to write again. If I didn't, I was going to go mad. So, I will write. My favorite all time character is Gin Ichimaru, but Hollow Ichigo follows close behind. Like, they're tied. As for the song I picked, my friend had me HOOKED on it. Guitar Hero is addicting. D PS. I'd like to thank Spencer, he helped me with my word choice twice.

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Symphony of Destruction

You take a mortal man,
And put him in control
Watch him become a god,
Watch peoples heads aroll
Aroll...

In the instant Kisuke Urahara had cut his chains of fate, Ichigo had felt this other prescence. It was faint, but there. The voice, that like a snake, whispered threats and curses in his mind. For a time, the strawberry-haired teen thought he was man. Utterly mad, he told himself. It was all a bad dream, he told himself. That didn't stop the voice from haunting his dreams, haunting his life. For the longest time, the Kurosaki boy ignored the cooing voice of his other half.

This voice coaxed him, almost seducing and smooth, like Japanese silk sliding over skin. This other half urged him to submit. Submit to what, the boy did not know. Everytime his soul was knocked out of his body, this urge took forth. It was filled with blood lust, revenge, a need for death.

Just like the pied piper
Led rats through the streets
We dance like marionettes,
Swaying to the symphony...
Of destruction

It was with that fight with Kuchiki Byakuya that Ichigo Kurosaki finally succumbed to this monster's will. He once again felt the searing pain of the hot, white plaster-like mixture covering his face, his vision blurring, conscious fading to the back of his mind. It was then that the teen knew who this voice belonged to. It was that of the Hollow he had become when his chains were severed. This creature now controlled his every limb. He heard him talk, the Hollow's malicious chortles ringing throughout his mind, his sanctuary, his one safe place.

This monster had tremendous power. He trembled; this Hollow had taken his broken, bloody, dying body over, as if it was in perfect condition. He swung the sword, contorting the teen's delicate body in ways Ichigo never dared to. His Bankai's potential was fully known by his opposite, while all he could do is sit, watch, scream, and try to gain control. Zangetsu's power lay in the hands of this masked being, tearing it's way through the Kuchiki man.

As the Hollow was about to kill him, Ichigo snapped, gaining control of one of his arms. He had managed to rip the mask off, and after the Hollow was sealed in his mind, the voice coaxed him once more.

"You could have rid yourself of him forever. I am strong. Aibou, I can help." The teen knew this as a bold-faced lie.

Acting like a robot,
Its metal brain corrodes.
You try to take its pulse,
Before the head explodes.
Explodes...

His mind was filled with heart-wrenching thoughts. More and more often, he succumbed to his inner Hollow. It took it's chance when he was asleep, wounded, dreaming, at peace. . . His life was spiraling downwards thanks to the torturous words he heard every minute, every hour, every day. It killed him inside, wrenching his soul into his dark grasps only to shatter him into a million tiny pieces. Ichigo always felt himself break at the hands of his opposite, his rival for his own body. Some days, he cursed his own existence. Others, he would block the cooing voice out of his mind.

The Hollow loved nothing more than to see his aibou struggle, cracking under the pressure he put onto his poor, teenage body. The mental abuse he preformed was almost worse than the physical. The Hollow surfaced those surpressed memories of his mother, his past, the day Karin and Yuzu were born. He could do nothing but grin malevolently. For many months, it rained in his sideways world. For this, the pale Hollow was glad. His plan was working.

The earth starts to rumble
World powers fall
Awarring for the heavens,
A peaceful man stands tall
Tall...

It was quiet in the Kurosaki household. Isshin was out, and Karin and Yuzu were both sleeping peacefully. Ichigo, however, tossed and turned, the voice purring inside his mind. It gave him nightmares, causing him to shiver and sweat. It was as if he was right beside the boy as he slept, his voice heavy and thick with anticipation.

"Don't keep me locked up forever, aibou. It wouldn't be just, now would it?" The Hollow cooed, slowly fighting his way to the surface.

"Why should I let you out? You're a monster. . ." Ichigo thought subconsciously.

"You wound me, aibou. Your words are so. . . Harsh," he smiled venomously, watching the young Vizard in his own, rainy world of sideway skies, "I've saved you many a time. You wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me."

The Kurosaki boy flinched. His words rang true. The rain began to pound down, and the Old Man Zangetsu was no where in sight.

"You know I'm right. If I hadn't been there, aibou, your family would have been eaten by others of my kind long ago," the Hollow licked his lips anxiously, "and poor Karin and Yuzu would be just. Like. Me. I can protect them. I am strong, while you, aibou, are not."

Ichigo felt his guilt rising. With his current state of mind, he would think all of it to be quite true. A strong gust of wind blew the rain into his eyes, stinging the bare flesh of his face as he breathed in silently. He felt utterly defeated. The white Hollow brought him into an embrace, long pale fingers caressing the skin of his neck, feeling the teen shiver. He felt hot, salty tears fall into his shoulder, puddling into the fabric of his white hakama.

"I can help, aibou," the Hollow's breath was hot against the other's cold flesh, "if you would only give me the chance. . ."

Once more, Ichigo shivered, feeling his own self fade away into nothingness. His Hollow was his only security blanket. His hands grabbed around his opposites' shoulders, gripping the white fabric in trembling hands. He opened his mouth, letting out a surpressed sob. He didn't want to break down, not in front of him.

His other began to surface, the sobbing teen's breath tickling his neck. He was indeed attached to this boy, but he would not let that stop him. He chortled, before surfacing to the body completely.

"Struggle all you want, it only makes you more beautiful. I do love you, aibou, but you do not know how it feels to be trapped inside your mind, feeling your torment. Goodbye. . . Aibou."