Ichigo was not crazy. Definitely not. If he was crazy, then he wouldn't also retain his sanity, and also still have that thing within him.
Ichigo was not crazy.
That thing invaded his dreams every night, to the point where the doctors had to drug him to sleep, where he would dream of that thing. It would laugh in his face, a crazy person's laugh, tell him that he was weak. Maybe he was, that he couldn't deal with that thing himself. That he had to dig himself a worse hole, that he told his family of it who became so scared they sent him away to the doctors who gave him pills and drugged him and made him face it which scared him so every night.
It scared him so much because it was him. Or at least, it gave the appearance of a bleached version of him. White skin, white hair, white haori and hakama, black lips, black nails, black sclera, and yellow irises. The eyes, the eyes scared him most. The crazy laugh it laughed, that was nothing compared to that things animalistic eyes.
Ichigo was not crazy.
That thing whispered things even when he was awake. Saying it was going to take over soon. That Ichigo would be 'king' no longer. That Ichigo would disappear.
Ichigo did not want to disappear. But the medications, they mellowed him, but also made him less able to fight the mad creature that lived within his mind. Sometimes it was all he could do to stay awake to fight that thing.
It grew closer to the surface every day, and the blackness hazed the edges of Ichigo's vision sometimes. That thing was threatening Ichigo's very being, and he didn't like it.
Ichigo was not crazy.
Ichigo simply didn't know how to fight it, besides pure hardheadedness which he was so well known for before they sent him away. If Ichigo didn't know better, he would say that he was just too good to go down. Unfortunatly, Ichigo knew better. Knew that it was only a matter of time. But he kept fighting the blackness that threatened to overtake his vision and give him over to that thing.
But he would lose. Even now, the blackness wormed its way across his eyes, and he imagined that when it succeeded, his orange hair would loose its unusual color and his eyes would lighten from brown to yellow as the whites of his eyes would darken. Would his skin bleach white? Would his clothes loose all its dye?
Would he die? His soul, he guessed, would be evicted from his body. Was that what dying was? Not just the physical stop of the heart and lungs and brain function, but when the soul left the body? Surely it wouldn't be living without a body.
Ichigo feels it then, the crushing blackness, returning full force. He knows it, now, this is it. That thing's screaming giggles fill his head. He cannot fight this time, and the blackness overtakes his vision. Then, there is a flash of white, and he returns to the familiar, yet frightening landscape. He is standing sideways on a skyscraper, yet it is perfectly straight up to him. And he can still hear that incessant laughter that signals it's presence. He does not have to turn around to know that it is that thing which is laughing. He feels a hand on his head, pushing his hair roughly in different directions.
He hears a snakelike voice whisper in his ear, cool breath stirring a few hairs...
In his padded cell, 'Ichigo' looked up at the ceiling, a crooked grin splitting his face. 'I am King now,' can be heard quietly uttered.
No, Ichigo was not crazy, but the thing which controlled his body definitely was.
...I really have no explanation for this. it was just a thought. I read something a friend wrote, a six-line poem called "Not Crazy." Just her thoughts on a schizophrenic in a padded cell, what it must be like. I adopted it, remade it to Bleach, and it really isnt much like hers anymore, given that it is much longer.
Iggy: She was also feeling kinda angsty.