A/N: Already posting… and in a good mood. The idea hit me while I was restlessly trying to get to sleep, and I have to get this one out. Especially because I got seven follows withing two hours of posting chapter one…! I feel awesome right now.

"Kingy, I thin' Ossan is angry. Its yer problem, not mine, so deal with it already." Shiro said, pointing mockingly at Zangetsu. He pushed Ichigo forward, and into the already furious "zanpakuto," and let off a manic laugh of eerie caliber.

Ichigo cursed loudly, and glared at his hollow half before telling Zangetsu it was nothing. The angry zanpakuto left in a huff, realizing that Ichigo was in one of his 'moods' again. He knew the boy would talk when he wanted to, not before. It didn't quite serve to dissipate his anger though.

Shinji snuck a suspicious glance at the retreating figure, sensing something to be off about him. His reiatsu felt more like a quincy's power than a zanpakuto; Shinji was uncertain why, but it greatly unnerved him. He shook his head and redirected his attention at the inverted Ichigo that was glaring getsuga-tensho sized daggers at him from behind a cocky smirk.

"Ne', piano-face, whaddaya wan' with us already? Yer interferin' with our business, an' I 'm growin' bored." Said Shirosaki, with as much contempt and condescension as he could muster. And it was by no means a small amount, due to the hollow's arrogant nature that he'd inherited from Ichigo.

"I jus' wanna know why ya called strawberry over there king, and then called 'im aibou. Makes no sense to me, how is Ichi both yer king an' yer partner?" Shinji ignored the ivory fiends blatant rudeness, and put forth his own in an attempt at humor. Shiro scoffed at the vizard.

"Che', no sense ta be made 'bout it. In my mind, aibou means king when I say it; Ichigo is king 'cause Zan-sama 'n I 'er part o' him, an' how when it all boils down, I w'll be tha only one who stands by 'im. Wether Ichi likes it er not, I'm his only true partner; all 'cause no one else'll ever put up with 'im fer so long. Tha' an' 'cause I plan on makin' 'im see thin's my way, where... well you'll never know wha' tha' is. That all ya wanted ta know, baka? Er do I hav'ta answer more poin'less questions fer ya?" Shiro looked at Shinji calmy, bored expression more than evident on his face as he idly played with the ebony cloth of his inverted zangetsu, swirling it around dextrously.

"I'm satisfied with tha' fer now, I guess." The blonde replied, acting equally bored although, secretly, he was concerned and afraid. Concerned for Ichigo' safety, and afraid for his sanity. Shinji had seen this hollow on the loose in Ichigo's body three more times than he ever wanted to.

Even the powerful ex-captain of squad five knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the crazed, slaughter happy, inverted form of Ichigo. The very manifestation of every ounce of instinct and hate stored within the teen's mind, that had nearly killed Hiyori, and nearly made Ichigo kill Hiyori.

Shinji left Ichigo's inner world. He understood what the hollow wanted, and he knew he could do nothing about it. It was all up to Ichigo, as usual. Shinji blinked, back in the underground training room. Hachi had already mostly healed up Hiyori's neck, and Rose had helped Mashiro to make lunch for everyone. Shinji looked back to Ichigo with worry-clouded eyes. He couldn't deny what he'd seen that had made him leave. Shiro may have been trying to hide the strawberry behind himself, but shinji saw definitely saw the large, gaping, hollow hole that now graced the teen's chest. Shinji tried to crack a joke, and grin with his piano-key-teeth, but he couldn't shake the dread and the sorrow. He knew Ichigo was already losing, yet he maintained his stubborn faith in the kid.

Back in Ichigo's inner world, a very pissed off Shiro sat pinning an even angrier Ichigo to the floor with nothing but his left hand.

"Cool it, king! I'm gonna wrap zangetsu's binds around yer mouth if ya don' shut it! Wha' did I tell ya, aibou? Ya can't go back out yet. Yer weak righ' now. He cracked the mask up good, and I still need ta heal up yer reiatsu, 'cause yer energy level is at zero!" Shirosaki yelled angrily through Ichigo's incessant protestations.

"Says the very thing that caused this! I'd have more energy if you would stop haunting my dreams and trying to kill me in my sleep!" Ichigo retorted, desperately struggling against Shiro's unrelenting hand that had him pressed firmly to the side of the skewed tower.

"I'd stop givin' ya nigh'mares if ya'd jus listen ta me when I tell ya somethin', aibou." Shiro's hand moved up to trace the hole he'd created where the teen's heart hed been. Ichigo gasped at the sensation, an overwhelming surge of pure, undiluted killer-instinct that clouded his vision and enveloped his mind. "Yer mine, Ichigo." Shiro cooed as he cackled like the maniac he was, and increased the contact by shooting his own reiatsu into the wound, knowing that the boy couldn't fight the onslaught if he it was injected through a part of the teen that had already become hollow. Ichigo convulsed, eyes flashing hollow yellow, as Shirosaki's hollow reiatsu strengthened the effulgence of his instincts, immersing him further into their murky depth. "Now, tell me, Ichi; who exactly is the king?" Ichigo convulsed once more, yellow eyes gazing up cruelly from his neon orange hair that had now grown to about his mid back. The mask disappeared, but two horns of ivory stained with stripes of violent crimson manifested in its stead, sprouting from his forehead like impaling blades. Ichigo's eyes faded to black, and an inferno of vermillion fur grew around his wrists and ankles.

Amidst all of this, a distraught Zangetsu appeared beside the two.

"Ichigo, don't say it. You are better than this, fight him." Zangetsu's voice lost its calm tone as the sword looked to his wielder. The old man was purely and plainly infuriated by the hollows resistance to suppression. The worthless creature was trying to take the tawny haired protector away from him! If anything, that only increased the old man's fury with the damned thing. Much to "Zangetu's" horror, the teen looked at him coldly.

"Shirosaki... is ...king. Shiro is king. Must obey... Must obey… ... Obey..." Ichigo's voice had deepened significantly, and Shirosaki's smile had done the impossible by increasing its already massive size.

"Sorry ossan, bu' I'm tha real zangetsu, an' I ain't gonna be suppressed by the likes of ya, quincy scum. Ichigo, kill." Shiro- no, Zangetsu pointed at the imposter imperiously. Ichigo launched himself forward, impaled his hand in the fake zangetsu's chest, and ripped out the old man's heart with a flick of his pale, tattooed wrist. Blood slpurted out in an arch of surprised ruby, and disappointed grey eyes met Ichigo's hollow black ones, a sort of protective sorrow on the old man's face as his life flowed from his empty chest in a pooling stream of crimson that stained his torn black robes with death and betrayal.

"I-I'm sorry, Ichigo." Here he paused to to cough, hacking up more of his own blood as the liquid dribbled down his chin. "I-I've... f-failed to protect you… to protect you f-from yourself" His body convulsed, and disintegrated, flowing into Shirosaki as the white menace tangled his fingers lightly in Ichigo's hair.

"Good boy, Ichigo." He smirked, and somewhere in Hueco Mundo Aizen went on a killing rampage. Shiro's reiatsu tracing through a camera, that the shinigami-traitor planted to watch Ichigo with, had found the motherboard and destroyed all the cameras through it. "Only mine. Yes, only my king." And Aizen would know that before long. Oh yes, he would learn as his blood ran freely from his body much the way as the old man's was doing. He would learn when the hollowified substitute impaled that traitorous fiends body. He would learn in the end, when Ichigo himself forced the worthless ex-captain to kneel to Shirosaki, before ruthlessly removing the bastards worthless head with a charged cero. "Only my king."

A/N: I'm fairly satisfied with this, so i will end it here. For now, at least.