Up. Dow. Up. Down. An endless cycle. So my blade moves, so my blade takes another life. The blood of millions coats my hands, heart and souls. An ocean of sorrow, mine and others, flows ahead, around and behind me. My life I chose, I live.
It was not always so. Everything changes, given enough time. I left the Soul Society because of change, and now all that was is gone.
I am Ichigo. Captain. Widower. Visard. Demon. Phantom. Monster. Saviour. Hero. Legend. Forgotten. Friend. Lover. Enemy. Food. I have many titles, none of them mine.
It's been my hollow that's kept me alive. Longer, too long perhaps, than anyone else. Those that came with me are dead, or left for the Soul Society. Many came with me to Heudo Munco. Some died before they even drew a second breath, slaughtered in the first seconds. Others died later. The attrition was terrible. Endless battle, endless trekking, endless night. Inevitably the body or mind failed. The rest, the truly "strong", gave up. Over time, feelings dulled, and passion waned. They despaired at ever finding our quarry. They gave up. Revenge could not sustain them, only I. My body never grew tired. As a visard I could simply eat my fallen foes for sustenance. I would never forgive those that wronged me, never. My hollow side, my baser, violent, destructive side, is at home here. It should, this is where it belongs. There is no holding back here. If it moves, it dies. The shinigami in me requires nothing more that revenge to sustain it. So here I am. For...Years? Decades? Long enough to become a legend, a thing of myth. A terrible monster that stalks ceaselessly, searching for something that can never be found. Well, that's wrong. I'll find what I want. What happens next is what will be remembered. I am the silent ghost, killer of all. It wasn't always like that. The first step into this hell was met with violence. Ceaselessly, for longer than I can remember we fought. Like sharks the hollows flocked to us, drawn by the smell of food and death. We destroyed them all. They destroyed us, as well. For the first time, it was still. So in that stillness, we left. The worst part was the anticipation. We never knew when we were going to be attacked. To be on guard like that is impossible to sustain. I was unaffected. I fought to die, not to live. In the end the strain was too much and my companions left or snapped.
After I was left alone, my encounters became less and less. The dogs didn't seek me out; it was their masters turn. These were not mindless beasts, but things that could think, and reason. Some wanted to fight, some wanted to reason, some wanted to mate. All fell and fed me well. I walk alone, with only the moon and the sand for company.
Its not all bad. Technically, I am still a captain. The base edict of a captain is to protect the human world from hollows. I simply destroy them before they can harm anyone. That was how the brass spelt it out. I don't care. I still meet with old friends sometimes. Not often, but more than never. Every time I see them they age more and more, whereas I never seem to. Occasionally I go to the human world. I am still human at heart. Nobody can resist the call of chocolate forever.
In the hours between the fighting, wandering the desert, I remember my former life, the one I gave up. I don't miss the paper work, that's for sure. The company, actual interaction with other people? You don't know what you have until it's gone. It started when Rukia stabbed me with a sword. Bitch. Read any history book, they can tell you what happened. The interesting things did not start happening until I finished face-raping Aizen with my sword.