"Hey, horse."
The hollow turned around, one eyebrow raised, accenting the pissed off look.
"Eh? The fuck, king? Since when the fuck were you so ballsy?" The hollow leaned into his king's face, scowling.
If Ichigo was bothered by this close contact, he didn't show any signs of it. He simply wore a small smile, his hands tucked into his pockets, standing in a relaxed pose.
The hollow backed up, coming to a realization.
"Wait a sec. King…you're here? Does that mean you've gotten out of that fucker's place?" This was unexpected. A few days after Ichigo's capture, his king's presence in the inner world had completely disappeared. But the inner world hadn't stayed the same. For days on end, the hollow and Zangetsu were pounded on by heavy rain. Then it would end abruptly for a day, at the most, and begin again. It was horrifying.
But recently, the rain had stopped, but the feeling it made left behind a sense of foreboding. As if one were standing in the eye of the storm.
"No. I've just finally cleared my mind, is all. Well. Not really. Enough clarity to think of something."
The hollow cocked his head. "Oh? And what is that?"
"Nothing a horse like you should know." Ichigo smirked and the hollow felt his old king for a moment.
"Little shit. Then why are you here?" His black eyes narrowed.
"I need you to do something."
"Eh?"
"Those memories, the ones that you have been just conveniently hiding from me."
The hollow froze. He didn't think his king knew about that. Yes, he and Zangetsu had eventually found out what was happening to Ichigo. After all, they were one and the same. It had taken the two spirits some time, due to Aizen's constant illusions. Zangetsu grasped the concept of Aizen's illusions on Ichigo. They did not wipe the boy's mind, but rather just put the memories his torture in a tightly locked little box. And because of his increasingly weakened state, Zangetsu handed that tightly locked box to the hollow.
"W-what about them, king?" The hollow didn't think he'd be sweating.
"I need you to let me know them. But not now. You'll know when. I'm just letting you know."
The hollow flinched. "The fuck?! I give you those memories and you'll be a broken fucking mess! Nothing can bring you back from that!"
There it was again. The dense, thick feeling. The eye of the storm.
"That's exactly why I want you to do it." And then his king was gone.
Ichigo awoke to the feeling of dulled pain. The whiteness blinded him and he groaned, lifting his hand up to block his eyes. That too, was a mistake. Pain shot out through his arm, making him drop it right back down with a groan. He was pretty sure that the wet feeling near his arm was a wound reopening. Or maybe it was his or Aizen's cum. The thought of the semen seeping into the wounds make Ichigo want to vomit. Which he promptly did, managing to roll over and do it on the floor. Fantastic. Now it smells like vomit and blood. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Somehow, Ichigo managed to crawl his way out of bed. As he got out of bed, he slowly stood up, doing his best to ignore his protesting body. He certainly gets creative.
Stepping into the bathroom, Ichigo took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. Oh, he looked awful, indeed. He was ready to heave again just by the sight of it. Ichigo turned away from the mirror with a groan, putting a hand to his mouth. His other hand reached up to wipe across the mirror, leaving a smeared trail of hand-shaped blood stains.
From the few seconds he looked, Ichigo could surmise that he had a black eye and, obviously, several cuts and gashes of various shapes and sizes. Although, after he washed the blood off and bandaged the real bad wounds, his appearance would approve…Granted that he doesn't look like a mummy.
As the soothing water ran over his aching body, Ichigo lightly noted that his recent contact with his hollow seems to have reawakened a bit of a regenerative ability. Wounds that were far too newly caused had already begun to scab, and he could feel the swelling in his eye lessen.
Finishing the shower, the Shinigami surprised himself by instantly knowing where the bandages were kept. Luckily, there was a rather large amount. Bandaging the wounds, Ichigo carefully chose which to bandage and which to leave open. He left wounds that already had hard scabs open, while covering wounds that were still open and would be easily bothered by clothing.
"That's a nice limp you got there."
Ichigo turned around, eyebrows raised.
Standing there by the door was Grimmjow, holding a tray of food. The Espada had on his insane grin, as usual.
"My breakfast?" Ichigo straightened out his new pair of clothing, careful not to run his hands down any sensitive wounds.
"More like dinner."
"Damn. That late already?"
"Yeah. Surprised you didn't wake up earlier. The fox bastard and Ulquiorra dropped by a few hours ago." Grimmjow held the tray out to Ichigo.
"Oh?" Ichigo took the tray from Grimmjow, his hand twitched reflexively when the weight of the tray put a little bit too much pressure of a few sensitive cuts.
"It's like a hobby for those two. Fuckin' voyeurs."
"I must be real interesting when I sleep." Ichigo sat down on the bed, putting the tray in his lap. The food wasn't one uniform style, but rather several different kinds. Ichigo counted six different cultures on his tray, and smiled at the diversity.
"They're just gauging to see how much this 'you' can take."
Ichigo, mouth full, looked up at Grimmjow. Meeting the Spade's amused gaze, Ichigo looked back down to his food and swallowed.
"Sounds like they've got nothing else to do. What's up with the war?"
Ichigo regretted that question where he was answered by an even wider toothy grin. He held his hand up.
"Wait. Forget it. Don't answer that. At least not yet."
Grimmjow shrugged, his grin lessened. "Suit yourself."
The Espada watched Ichigo eat in complete silence. After a while, it became extremely uncomfortable for Ichigo, and that goddamn Espada noticed and chose to make the situation worse. So now Ichigo had to attempt to eat in complete silence, with a crazy man staring holes into the back of his head and grinning like a maniac. Ichigo could of sworn that his gulps echoed in the room.
"S-so. Where's Aizen?"
"Eh? That bastard? Shit if I know."
"You weren't sent here to watch me?"
"I was sent here to send you some food, so you don't fuckin' starve."Ichigo put the partially empty tray again, looking down on the floor. Smiling, he hopped to his feet and turned to Grimmjow.
"Well, no point in sticking around here. Mind letting me out?"
And that's how he ended up here. Sitting in Aizen's throne room, looking around at the massively empty room. Grimmjow had left seeing as he didn't want to see 'a boring ass faggoty room'. Or something like that.
Ichigo looked up to the throne, and wondered the usefulness of such a tall throne.
Well, I guess it creates the right atmosphere.
Wrinkling his nose, Ichigo tilted his head, noticing a small spot behind the throne. Right where one would rest his back, was a bit of space.
Making his way to the throne, Ichigo sat down in the small space and felt a surge of childhood delight. This was probably the only spot that wasn't viewable from the throne. And it made him feel giddy.
Ichigo felt himself beginning to nod off, and looked up abruptly every time his head drooped a little. Looking back out towards the throne room and seeing no one there, Ichigo felt a little bit more lax and allowed himself to fall asleep. Although, he was pretty sure there were a few wounds that would have a problem with it and complain about it when he woke up.
Aizen wasn't sure how to deal with this. He wasn't at all surprised Ichigo had left his room. It's not like he had went out of his way to keep the younger man in the room, anyway. What he didn't expect was to find him sleeping behind his throne.
He looked so incredibly childish, sleeping there. Aizen couldn't help but smile at the feeling it evoked in him. It was…cute. Even that little bit of drool. But it was only a little cute.