Nightmare
Author's Note: I just want to take a short break from the trilogy for a while...it was tiring trying to rush out the other half of chapter 3 while maintaining the same quality since I'm prone to writer's block and writing crap when it happens. And besides...I'm cruel to leave Hitsugaya dead for the early part of the story, so I wanna write a Hitsu-centric oneshot to get myself going. I found him very ooc after re-reading, but I didn't really have a choice.
Oh, and I made an IchiHitsuKusa amv. Nothing much to say about it...although you can check it out if you want to. You should know where to find the vid so I won't exactly bother revealing its location.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything concerning Bleach.
Warning: OOCness, suggestive scenes, and zombie Kusaka.
Inspiration: The Nightmare track from the D-Dust soundtrack.
Blood splattered on his face, and the body hung limply on the crimson blade.
He stared at it, coldly, with those sharp, piercing emerald eyes of his. And yet, a wave of guilt, a wave of nostalgia, lurked beneath that icy exterior, that mask of ice. His hand, clenched on the hilt of his zanpakutou, trembled, and his free hand came to put an end to the trembling, to put an end to his telltale sign, but the trembling wouldn't stop. Self-contradiction had occurred again; he wished, he hoped, that time would somehow move along faster, so that it would all end quickly and painlessly, so that he could allow his legs to give way, and just let him fall flat on the frozen grounds, never to get up again. And at the same time, he also wished, he also hoped, that time would somehow go back to when all this never happened, so that it would all turn out all right, so that he could allow himself to stay as he was, living life peacefully...and happily.
Neither ever came.
Oh, those eyes, those devillish eyes...Those eyes of evil, of a tainted soul, staring...gazing...with a vacant expression on the wearer's face...But to him, a murderer, a fellow soul of injustice, those eyes bore nothing but joy, warmth...and love. Joy of the times they had spent together, that they used to be acquainted, that they had the privilege to know each other like reading a book; warmth from the countless times they had become worried and concerned, watching out for each other, looking out for the other's back; and love...the rush of love showering upon them...all coming out from a mere pair of blank eyes which had ultimately become the symbol of death...and life itself.
His grip loosened, eyes softening and gaze lowering; he brought down the blade and the still, frozen body hanging from it. He gazed into the pair of eyes that once blazed with the intensity of life, left hand gripping onto the shoulder and preparing to slide the corpse off the metallic blade. Instantly, his eyes narrowed, his glare intesifying, and the coldness seeping in, taking control once more. No, he reminded himself, I can't be soft now. I have to finish what I have come to accomplish, and I won't leave until that is taken care of. And then...it can all finally end...
A sigh escaped his lips, and his eyelids drooped over. The corpse jolted upright, eyes brightening with life, but skin turning a sick, pale white, blood dripping from the jaws, the face leaning closer and closer until-
"Hello, Toushirou..." the whisper came, dead and gaspy like a zombie's.
He could feel it, like how he could feel the stare of the undead fall upon him. The corpse was smiling; he knew it. He was prepared for whatever it was going to throw at him; insults, accusations, yells...all for killing him, all for causing his death. But it was just going to be the final hurdle before the matter would draw to a close, it was just a few seconds away before he could reach his point of everlasting happiness and relief.
But...
Whoever said happiness...could last?
The final moments of his purpose seemed to take forever...it should've ended by now. Normally, it would only last for a mere three hours; now it was taking five...six...seven...as it progressed into its further stages, the time taken seemed progressively longer, too. It was like a disease; a raging disease, that couldn't be cured, couldn't be eradicated. And this disease had completely overwhelmed his entire being; it claimed him, its clutches were tight, and it refused to let go. This isn't...this isn't supposed to happen...isn't it supposed to-
"Isn't it supposed to...to release its grip on you?" the whisper came, with a malicious hint, but he still refused to let his eyelids open now, not when it was about to end. "Why, Toushirou, you can't be serious..."
Bam
...Pinned against the ground!?
"Oh, Toushirou, you don't honestly think..." the undead soul paused, making a slurping sound with a vicious grin. "...that I'll be so stupid to...to let you go? When I haven't even...had my share of the fun?"
A bony finger came, tickling his chin. "You're mine, you know...I can't let some orange-haired doofus tag along and...and take you away from me...can I?"
A chuckle...a deep, seductive chuckle... "After all...you are the only you in the end..."
Uneasiness began to settle in...
"...And I plan to have you all to myself..."
The cold, icy touch sank into his skin, piercing his bones, and chilling him to the core. The sharp fingernails digging into his skin as crimson fluid oozed out, staining the cool ice beneath him. A snarl from above - he still refused to open his eyes - and he heard the ripping of cloth; he knew his skin was being exposed to the iciness in the atmosphere. It was cold; much too cold...he, who reigned over the wintry blizzards...was cold. "...You're cold..." the hushed tone above hissed before a toothy grin found its way to his features.
"...Would you like me to make you feel warmer?"
...And more ripping of clothes...
...A sudden warmth engulfing him...
...Before a scream finally made its way through the gates, echoing into the far distance...
...Where...?
Hey, Toushirou.
...Kuro...saki...?
Yeah, it's me. How are you? Man, you look horrible.
The screeching of a chair, before a faint squeak.
What am I doing here...?
What do you mean, what you're doing here? I saved you and brought you back, duh.
Saved me...? Kurosaki, I don't need saving...
No, you don't. But you did.
A light pat on the arm, strong enough to hold him back down.
...You had a nightmare, Toushirou.
The warmth from the fingers, welcoming and soothing, as they rubbed against the taichou's arm before they held him up and caressed his tear-stained cheeks.
Care to tell me about it?