Chapter 29: Under the weather

For two weeks Szayel lived under the microscope and felt like there was no better place. Ichigo was kept sedated since the scientist found it a lot easier to work if he was. Szayel wasn't intending on letting the vizard out of the isolation room until he had gathered enough information anyway, or until the fungus had spread as far as he liked.

It was vital that he found something because he didn't want to disappoint Aizen again. He didn't know what the man would decide to do if he didn't. Aizen was not the kind-hearted leader he pretended to be. Szayel had to be careful not to make the wrong move or he would be severely punished for not living up to what it meant to be the eighth Espada.

When he had first discovered the fungus on several dead hollows in the Menos Forest Szayel had taken a great interest in it, since it could hold the key to his desire of wiping all non-hollows out of existence.

Aizen seemed to have shared his interest of using it as a weapon, but he also seemed keen on having a cure for it. Something Szayel hadn't intended on making, since he planned to stay out of the way once he distributed the disease. Since the spore died with its host if there was nothing for the fungus to spray it spores upon for a certain time, a cure would be un-wise to produce since he could simply wait until everything he had contaminated died.

But as he had many times before, Aizen once again forced his hand and Szayel was ordered to find a cure. The Espada figured the man was afraid of what might happen if he or any of his three soul-reaper friends got infected. Maybe Aizen could not risk having an unstoppable disease kill the ones he didn't wish to be killed.

Szayel frowned as he straightened the many bottles filled with embalming fluid and samples on their respective shelves. The man needed to make up his mind on things other than intending to become all powerful. But having a cure for a supposedly incurable disease would make Aizen more powerful than without. So Szayel saw the logic in the decision, even if he wished otherwise.

Unfortunately the research had come to a halt when the subject he had desperately tried to keep alive died. But something interesting had come from it. To his surprise the subject had not dissolved. This strengthened his hope of creating a world without shinigami and humans. But to his distress it only seemed to trouble Aizen and the man hadn't seemed too keen on keeping the dead body inside his palace. It had been disposed of and over the centuries that passed Szayel had lost track of it in the vast desert and his research had to be put to a halt.

But now, finally, he had new research material. This time he didn't intend on loosing his subject so fast. He was ready now and perhaps he could find a way to distribute the disease and the cure he was ordered to, even if it in the end meant killing the boy and infecting others just to keep the same sample alive. He had realized it was best to have the same sample during the study and that made the weak hollows in the Menos Forest below useless. Only strong creatures survived long enough. Well enough the boy seemed to be strong spirit-energy wise. So with new vigor Szayel once more, after many years of waiting, set to work.

He made slow progress, even when he kept on working for hours, days and weeks to no end. But even so he could not deny that his spirit rose dramatically whenever he found something of value from a test.

Eventually though he decided to wake the boy. It was unwise to keep him asleep with the use of drugs for too long, at least at this early stage. Ordering one of his subordinates to wake his subject, Szayel returned to his microscope.

A soft groan left Ichigo as he woke up and slowly pried his eyelids open. His body ached and when he moved his stiff hips he felt his legs groan in protest. His eyes rolled groggily in his skull.

How long had he been out?

His head felt stuffy and heavy, he couldn't breathe through his nose and his chest felt tight and congested. He tried to take a deep breath and his lungs erupted in a paroxysm of coughing that rasped in his throat and made his chest ache like hell and left him gasping air.

He covered his mouth and massaged his sternum to ease the pain. Ichigo sighed. He was so tired, the sudden and uncontrollable coughing attack getting the better of him.

Ichigo swallowed uneasily and tried to gather his surroundings. He was in the isolation room. Peering down at his own body, he found his protruding bones visible even through the layers of blankets he was covered in. He was wearing what he figured was a soft, white hospital gown.

Noticing that two transparent tubes travelled up from below the coverers, the boy saw that two bags steadily pumped him full of some clear liquid and the grey food that kept his hunger at bay. Ichigo knew he probably needed little else to survive, but that did not remove the uneasy feeling that something was worse than it seemed. He knew from experience that things were bad. Really bad.

"Hello?" His voice came out raspy and dry, surprisingly shaky-sounding. Leaning his head back Ichigo snorted. Why would anyone hear him anyway?

He felt like crap. He blinked, trying to force the daze out if him mind. Ugh. What was happening to him? Groaning and trying to swallow the thick saliva that filled his throat, Ichigo wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He twisted in the soft bed, trying to find a position that was more comfortable, but the blessing of sleep didn't want to settle.

A while later Ichigo grunted when he heard the vents from the small room that was between this one and the hospital wing activate. After about a minute the pink haired scientist entered the room. Peering through half lidded eyes at the man, Ichigo did note that sound was oddly muffled in his left ear when the Espada moved about. The frown on his forehead deepened.

"How are you feeling?" The scientist asked. Ichigo tired not to acknowledge the fact that the Espada was dressed like he was about to walk into a nuclear reactor as he carefully changed an IV in boy's arm. "I had you on mild sedatives before to keep you in bed."

"Tired… Feel like crap…" Ichigo sighed and slowly reached up to rub his eyes. "How long were we sedated?"

"A total of seventeen days."

"Seventeen!" Ichigo almost poked his own eye out. "Why so long?"

"Because I've been unsuccessful in finding a way to improve your declining condition."

Ichigo cleared his throat that still felt clogged with phlegm and asked stupidly, "We're declining?"

"Correct. But the symptoms will come and go. You may feel better for a short or long while and then get worse again," pausing, he continued, "I need another sample to see if any change happened from an injection I gave you. That's why I came."

"You gave us an injection?"

"I gave you quiet a few when you were sedated. They helped the other Espada."

Ichigo grimaced. He felt like he had done back when he was locked up in one of the cells of the palace. It was unsettling.

He didn't know what to what to say. He couldn't escape the grip the arrancar had him in and he knew it. He had to try and stay calm, for once. "Is it the thing affecting me?" Ichigo didn't know what to call it.

"Yes, but mostly it's the sedatives and the IV. They're refreshing your body, not quiet like blood but on a similar level to slow it from spreading."

Before Ichigo had any change to comment about it, Szayel continued, not intending to waste time.

"Alright, I'm going to try and explain what has happened to you," the scientist looked serious behind the protective glass of his suit. "The spore you inhaled is from a parasitic fungus, similar to cordyceps and mucor. There are many types of it, but only one can survive in Hueco Mundo and with the little information I've gathered, I'd say it mostly grows on hollows that live in the Menos Forest since it's damp and moist. I have never had a chance to study it much, since the former Espada that that got infected died too fast. Simply put, it's a parasitic fungus that's eating you from the inside out."

Ichigo paled at the last statement. He had been gripping the bed railing so desperately that his right hand remained curled to the shape of it.

"It's a rare condition, but when it does infect someone the subject almost always dies. The disease wasn't contagious with the former fourth Espada in the early stages. I don't know how it will be with you, so I'm not going to take any chances right now."

"What? You mean we have to stay in here?" Ichigo asked, but his voice disappeared and he started coughing, his throat getting sore fast.

"Yes, until I can determine if you are contagious or not."

"Contagious!" Ichigo managed to choke out. At least now he knew why the Espada was wearing the suit.

"Yes," he repeated, a bit louder to be heard over the boy. "It doesn't look good," he mumbled and waited for Ichigo to stop wheezing. Eventually, much to Ichigo's relief, it died down and he collapsed back into the bed with a tired moan.

Szayel grabbed one of the many papers he had taken with him and he held up what Ichigo recognized as an MRI scan. Ichigo grimaced as he realized it was of his own head. A gloved finger from Szayel pointed at a black blob with small strings coming out of it. Ichigo could only stare, his eyes large with both fear and surprise. Slowly he took the scan in his own hand and looked closer, his eyes unable to tear away from the abnormal blackness.

"It will keep on growing out over your body. The other arrancar died after six months, but I have the information I gathered back then, so I will by most certainly be able to slow it down a lot further."

"Wait, wait! Did you say that the arrancar, that former Espada died?"

"Yes"

Ichigo wasn't listening to the Espada anymore. He was too busy trying not to have an angry outburst. He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to think about something else instead, but he didn't know how and the rush of emotion turned to anger.

"You planned all this, didn't you! You set us up!" Ichigo spit, the saliva not getting far, only smearing down his lower lip and chin as he hissed and threw the MRI scan at the scientist. "You disgusting arrancar!"

"No, I'm not intending to let you die! I'm trying to help you!" Szayel shouted over the grunting sounds of the boy. Ichigo only screamed.

"Why would you do that? We're not even the same species as you! Why!? It's some scheme against us, isn't it!? To watch us die slower!" Ichigo screeched, twisting in the bed, trying to get out and hit the arrancar.

"I'm trying to slow it down!" The Espada shouted, "you're a man of Las Noches now, that's why I'm trying to help you, nothing more," Szayel promptly lied. He wasny going to say that the boy was of no use to him dead.

"It's all your and your fucking arrancar friends' fault!" Ichigo hissed and started to rise off the bed, but Szayel pushed his shoulders down into the soft bed he laid in. "Fucking bastard, get off me!"

In a violet twitch Ichigo lashed out with his claws toward Szayel. The scientist easily dodged the blow and before Ichigo could even think about striking again, a needle had been pushed into his abdomen. At first he just stared, not really understanding where the syringe had come from.

"Shit," Ichigo cursed, the world around him already getting fuzzy.

"No need to get so violent, boy."

Taking the saliva sample he had come to get, he left the isolation room and undressed from the hazmat suit.

Stupid boy. Suspicious little paranoid child.

Maybe he shouldn't have let the boy wake up; maybe he should just have kept Ichigo in the dark for another couple of weeks. Maybe a medically induced coma would calm the boy enough. Then again the boy's brain hadn't sustained any increased pressure or swelling of the brain. Frowning, Szayel knew he just had to let the subject be for now.

Grabbing a folder and pulling out a paper, he went back to work. However he wasn't allowed to work undisturbed for long until a seemingly annoyed Ulquiorra summoned him to his master's room. Equally annoyed, the scientist left the microscope he had been glued to, removed the latex gloves and replaced them with his white ones and headed out of the medical ward. Arriving at his destination he tried not to seem irritated.

"Szayel-Aporro," Aizen smiled gently and drank from a cup of tea before cutting straight to business. "I want you to inform me when the Kurosaki boy is contagious. When he is, I want you to send him home."

"But sir!" Szayel was taken by surprise. He had not foreseen this. "I have not gathered enough information yet to be able to find the antidote you requested!"

"Yes, I am aware of that, but I have yet to see if anyone else will get infected at all. I have read in your old reports that there are no visible signs in the diseases early stages, yet it is highly contagious?"

"That is correct," Szayel answered stiffly. He was not aware that the man had read his reports on his private research and he did not like where this was going.

"Good," yet another soft smile grazed Aizen's lips that Szayel did not find very pleasing. "I want you to inform me when that happens and send him home. I think it will be a very good way to test a theory I have. Very much so…" A sly smile spread on the man's face for a moment as he seemed to talk more to himself that to the Espada in front of him. "I want you to send information of this disease with the boy so he can give to his father. That will surely make things stir."

The Espada gritted his teeth for a second before he closed his eyes and smoothed his face. He could not show he was upset over this. "I will sir."

"You seem displeased, Szayel. Is something wrong with my request?"

"Not at all, sir," if he refused, he knew that certain measures would be taken to make him do it anyway.

"Good, I look forward to reading your next report." He nodded kindly toward Szayel. "Dismissed."

The scientist stepped out of the dome and his fingers curled. Stupid non-hollow he thought bitterly. Why wasn't he allowed to keep his research? It was such a marvellous sight to watch the boy decay in his grip. Frowning, Szayel headed for the hospital room, intending to make the most of the little time he had left.

The microscope once more served him better then any other instruments he had. Carefully he analyzed the new saliva sample, looking for traces of small, aggressive dots. When he, to his joy, found a small one he was, irritatingly enough, interrupted by a beep indicating that the boy had once more awakened. Szayel frowned and decided to ignore it for now. The child couldn't get out the isolation room undetected anyway.

With a bark Ichigo woke up, still thinking the Espada was out to get him. His arms felt rubbery and his head reeled when he got into an upright position. Ichigo moaned, realising that he was alone. His body felt weird and foreign to him. His mind didn't feel as sharp as it usually did and his thoughts meandered drunkenly.

Managing get himself into an upright position, Ichigo waited until the room had stopped spinning before he tried to get out of bed. After he had put down the bars that kept him from falling out, he pulled his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat staring at his feet for a while before he slid further down until his feet touched the ground.

He shivered from the cold and wondered if he was up for standing. Also, he couldn't get far with the limited range of the IV. Why was he about to get up anyway? He didn't know, but he just had to. It was an itchy desire to get away from what bound him. Ichigo's frown tightened. Maybe it was better to just lie back down and ignore the urge. Hell, he had just woken up since… well, he had no idea.

Carefully he hoisted himself back onto the soft bed. It was cold with his legs outside the covers, anyways. That was the problem with having no fat to pad the bones; it was always so damn cold.

Hiding his body under the blankets again he closed his darkly rimmed eyes and decided it was best to try and sleep for real instead of a drug keeping him unconscious. But like before, he could not still his mind enough. The only thing his mind seemed keen on thinking of was the MRI scan. His minds eye could see nothing but the blackness growing larger and larger until his very head was nothing but those black, tangled vines.

His eyebrow twitched in irritation and his fear mingled with frustration that coursed through him and he pulled at the bed covers, feeling the fabric groan in protest. He couldn't shake the images from his mind and he felt like he filled to the rim with frustration; agonizing and hateful emotions that were always about to burst, but somehow never did.

The scream did more than make his eyes teary and lower lip pull together. It made him realise something was off with his hearing, even more now than when the Espada had come into his room. All sounds were coming form the right. A desperate whimper escaped his trembling lips and carefully Ichigo reached to finger lightly at his ear.

His eyes widened when he felt something inside the ear canal. Whatever it was, it was still beneath his skin, but it was like an abscess just waiting to explode. He could feel it throb.

It blocked out all sound and he was completely deaf in his left ear. Ichigo curled together in a ball as his breath quickly gained speed, realisation hitting. It was coming out if his ear.

A spidery finger made its way deeper into the hole, his pointy claw scraping against the boil that wasn't supposed to be there. He kept digging even when he felt the grease from the liquids the IV's injected him with seep out and he stopped. Shocked, Ichigo stared forward into nothing.

Why had he been so careless? Why did he have to run in exactly that direction, just to that specific place? What was wrong with him? Was he cursed since birth? First he lost his beloved mother, then his life.

Before he knew it thick tears ran down his cold cheeks. His eyes were wide and his lips parted to gasp for air. The lump in his throat grew bigger every minute, even if he tried to swallow it. Was he going to let it grow until it strangled him?

Tears clouded his vision and in a vain attempt to get away from it all, the boy focused on the sideways world he knew was inside of himself. A falling feeling followed until his feet met with blue concrete.

The dark sun hung before him. It had grown large in the cloudy sky; as if it was greedily sucking the heavens up like a black hole. It selfishly tore his soul apart. Unthinkingly Ichigo curled his skinny arm around himself at the sight of it, feeling pathetic in the storm that trashed his side-turned world in an uproar of emotion.

He slid to his knees, unable to even phantom a thought of what to do with himself. He had no control over his life anymore. All he could do was to lie in the stupid bed in the isolation room. A loud wail escaped him and tearful sobs filled the silence. Tears made their way down his cheeks here as well and Ichigo leaned forward until his head met with concrete. He gritted his teeth.

He couldn't cope with this any more than he could cope with his mother's death, which he had never been able to fully do. He tore at his hair and crushed his face against the building he lay upon. The feeling of something constantly being eaten away from within seemed small compared to the grip the fear of dying had on him.

Loudly, he wept like a child. Because that was what he was, wasn't he? A child, a young boy that hadn't lived what people called life. He had missed out on so many things since he became a Shinigami. Death God. Death was what he had become since he'd met her.

He was only fifteen, a mere boy, so recently a child, and there were choices he should not be asked to make. He had hidden well behind a tough attitude, but that didn't make him any more qualified for the task he was given.

Ichigo couldn't understand how he could have trusted that girl to stick her own sword into his heart just so he could save his family. He had died for his family's sake, but never had he guessed that death would be so hard. What had happened to the songs and tales of peace that would be found beyond the night? Where was the sacred ground? Why wasn't the pain and sorrow gone? Grimly Ichigo wished that his death had been nothing more than darkness.

The rain grew heavier and a monsoon threatened to overtake the drizzle. The dark clouds twisted in the sky and tried to keep the water in, but failed miserably and the water shot down like bullets.

The downpour hit everything in the vast world, and Ichigo was no exception. The water rose around him in the window he lay upon. It drenched his clothes and matted his hair and chilled him to be bone. He curled together and stared at his own reflection in the water. Clamping his eyes shut he smashed his hand against the window, destroying his own reflection. He watched the water ripple and for a second he thought it had distorted into white. At first he was confused by it, then he realised his inner hollow was standing in front of him and the white boy's reflection was meshing with his own.

"Shirosaki," Ichigo acknowledged, but did not look up or shift from the foetal position he had taken.

"Ichi…" The hollow grunted, looking like he'd swallowed bile. "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know…" Ichigo mumbled and watched as the water bounced off the back of his white hand.

"Ah, come on!" It was almost as if the hollow had expected Ichigo to have all the answers. He was, after all, in charge of the body most of the time. If either of the two would know what to do it was Ichigo. "There has to be something we can do! We have to drive it out!"

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Ichigo sighed indifferently and slowly sat up from the wet ground.

At first Shirosaki looked like he was going to tell Ichigo a brilliant idea, but then the characteristic smile faltered and a frustrated sound escaped instead. The hollow growled and his hands dropped to his sides. Shirosaki looked up, the rain dripping in his eyes, making him blink.

"At least make it stop raining, partner."

Ichigo raised his eyebrows at the hollow. "How can it ever stop raining, Shiro, after all that happened?" he asked. "It will never get better."

Shirosaki growled. How pathetic, too bloody pathetic! He grabbed Ichigo's hair and pulled him to his knees. Ichigo jerked at the intense pain in the roots of his hair and pushed his hollow away.

"What the hell was that for!?"

"For being too goddamn pathetic! Get a fucking grip!" The hollow bellowed. "Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to make it go away!"

"Then what will Shirosaki? What will make it go away?" It was Ichigo's turn to scream.

"Doing something about it will! Forcing it out! Show that stupid fucking plant isn't welcome here!" Frustration surged through Shirosaki and he heaved Ichigo up, who seemed unwilling to get to his feet on his own.

"Come!" The hollow grabbed his king by the arm and stubbornly pulled him with him. Splashing though water puddles that soaked both him and his counterpart to the bone, he led Ichigo through his own soul, past buildings Ichigo had never seen. Past skyscrapers where curtains were pulled over the windows or the light turned off. Blocked or blurry memories Ichigo couldn't fully recall floated inside. The orange haired teen was led to forgotten realms in his memories, to where the skyscrapers were small and frail.

"Where are we going, hollow?" Ichigo growled, getting irritated at the constant pulling of his arm. It was his left one, too, which made it uncomfortable. He couldn't feel Shirosaki's hard grip at all.

"You'll see. We'll be there soon."

True to his word, after only a few more jumps between the buildings the hollow started heading down one. He and Ichigo jogged downhill the many stories until, to Ichigo's surprise, they moved through rainy fog. Ichigo had never been this far down before. Was there even a bottom?

"Where is this?" He asked his hollow, who had slowed to a walk and let go of Ichigo, who followed on his own.

Peering through the fog, to Ichigo's own surprise he could make out vertical asphalt that towered above him as massive roads. He could see them zigzag between the skyscrapers and disappear into the mist. There even were lonely trees planted along the roads and he could even spot a sideways playground through the fog. Ichigo gaped in amazement. He'd had no idea.

Ichigo found it beautiful. Why had he not known about this? The boy stopped in his tracks to stare and Shirosaki had to pull him along again.

"Don't get all over-romantic, King, it's not as pretty as it seems." He sounded bitter and Ichigo couldn't help but to frown as a feeling of unwanted dread filled him. What was wrong?

He didn't get a chance to ask before something appeared in the fog, something that clung to the vertical walls of asphalt. Ichigo's face grew grim. More and more of whatever-it-was was revealed the closer Ichigo and his hollow got.

The entire crossroad was covered in yellow root-like things, which seemed to have anchored into the ground. It had spread everywhere. The road, the trees that were already dead, and the grassplots that grew before the skyscrapers were all infected as far as Ichigo could see. To his added horror, two buildings had the greedy roots grown through the door and broken the windows to consume every room inside.

Running forward, Ichigo couldn't hide his shock as he realized the memories inside were not there anymore and unable to return because of the fungus taking its place.

"Oh God! Shirosaki! We have to do something!" Ichigo grabbed the hollow's white uniform and violently shook him. "It's fucking killing us! Eating our soul, eating my memories!"

"S-stop it!" The hollow stuttered, his head jutting back and forth, before he shoved Ichigo away.

"Can't you see what it's doing!?" Ichigo shouted desperately as he pointed at the destroyed windows with his entire arm.

"Of course I can see it! Why the hell do you think I brought you here!" The hollow looked as distressed as Ichigo.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and stared at the hollow for answers. What were they going to do? "Well?" He asked in a stern voice. "You said something about it not being welcome here?"

The hollow didn't seem to get what Ichigo was saying at first, but then quickly realized what Ichigo was hinting at and a large grin that didn't seem genuine to Ichigo spread over the pale face. "Let's show it who's in charge here, shall we, eh, King?"

Shirosaki reached back to grab hold of his weapon and swung it out in front of him. The inner hollow violently fired a Getsuga. The shot was shaky and unsure; neither of the two knowing what would happen if they attacked. The energy wave blasted through the air and collided with the road and the fog twisted and coiled madly. The two young boys held their breathings as the mist cleared.

To both the hollow's and Ichigo's satisfaction a large gash had appeared in both the road and the strings from the fungus. The hollow grinned triumphantly at his king.

"Hah! I told you doing something about it would help!" The hollow smirked and turned back to the wall-like road.

Both of them attacked without mercy and ran deeper and deeper into the city. How far it had already grown made Ichigo's imaginary heart twist, but he kept on going until both the hollow's and Ichigo's arm ached from the hard work. When the two of them finally found what could be recognized as the end of the vile mold, Shirosaki stepped back with satisfied grin.

"Not too shabby!" His grin grew. "See, no need to be a crybaby about it." He leered at his King.

Ichigo only shrugged at the comment, not intending to let the hollow's mockery get to him.

He was rewarded with a giggle. "Let's head back shall we?"

Nodding in agreement, both boys headed back the way they came. However, as they were almost back to where they started, they were met with something they didn't expect.

Yellow, vine-like roots, all over the road. It had all grown back, out of the broken road, and it was even thicker than before. It looked like enormous slugs were creeping out from beneath the concrete. Ichigo dropped his cleaver.

"No, no, no, NO!" He screamed and pulled at his hair. The hollow stood beside him, his smile of triumph wiped off his face. Ichigo twitched in place, his hand shaking at his side and his legs trembling. Before he knew it he ran off, into the fog and away. His weapon lay forgotten.

Knowing there was no use to try and stop the boy the hollow sighed and grabbed the black cleaver, caytting both soul cutters on his back. It was heavy, but he just couldn't let Zangetsu lie there unattended and perhaps be covered with the distasteful infection. He walked slowly, feeling bitter. His frown deepened.

He had felt bitter for a long time now. Much too long. But it wasn't easy to feel anything else when it was constantly pouring down a monsoon no matter where he went. Before, when it didn't rain all the time, he had hid inside the hallways of the lowest part of the buildings, far down where the rain couldn't get him. Now after the months of constant downpour, all the lower parts of the buildings were flooded and the massive fog that grew thicker everyday became harder and harder to breathe through.

Shirosaki knew that soon he would have no choice but to stay at the top of the buildings, something he didn't like. There was nothing to look at there, no small playground to vandalize or trees to break. There never was any change at the roofs of the skyscrapers and it made him bored. Back when Ichigo had changed moods the sky had been a terrific display of colors that kept Shirosaki entranced, but now it was always a darkened sky with heavy clouds and a black sun that grew bigger everyday. It made the hollow bitter.

Exhaling noisily, Shirosaki removed the dark cleaver from his back and placed its tip in the ground, next to the huddled form of Ichigo. He didn't say anything, knowing nothing would cheer the boy up.

They sat in silence for the longest of time, only a low sob from Ichigo breaking the otherwise silent world. Shirosaki tried to get some water out of ear and heaved another loud sigh. Ichigo himself only stared at the black hole in the sky. Or was it his black moon? Black Getsuga? If it was, he didn't want it.

"King…" Shirosaki's mumble broke the silence.

"What?" Ichigo furiously smeared his tears away.

"It's not going to disappear while you sit here and cry."

"Don't you think I know that! You don't have to state the obvious all the fucking time!" he was tired, a headache was building up in his cranium and most of all he felt like he couldn't sink any lower. Wearily he massaged his temples and tried to ignore his hollow.

"Ch'!" The hollow crossed his arms. "I'm not going to have it Ichigo," Shirosaki moved closer, close enough so Ichigo couldn't ignore him. "Go do something useful or get the hell out of here!"

"Do something useful!?" Ichigo got up from the ground. "I'm the one doing something all the time! You never, ever do anything at all!" Ichigo's voice rose steadily in volume.

"I'm the one not doing anything!?"

"Yeah, you! Do you see anyone else here?" Ichigo spit and grabbed Shirosaki's white haori.

"Get the hell out of my face!" Shirosaki pushed Ichigo away and bared his teeth.

"I'm fucking out of here!" Ichigo waved the hollow off and turned around to leave.

"Yeah, just go and hide out there! Where you can't see what's happening!" Shirosaki bellowed, his hand curling into a fist.

"Says you who always hide in here!" Ichigo turned around and pointed an accusing finger at the hollow. "You're always thinking you know best! But let me tell you, you don't know anything!" Ichigo's face contorted with anger the clouds twisted into dark thunderclouds in the sky. "You only sit in here all fucking day doing and knowing nothing!"

"Oh yeah? I don't know anything do I? Don't you dare say I don't know anything! I live inside your fucking head!"

"That's right! You're nothing but a stupid voice in my head!"

Shirosaki slashed out with his claws, hitting Ichigo in the face. "Fuck you!"

"I hate you!" Venom filled Ichigo's voice. He grunted in pain as three gashes opened in his cheek. "Ah! Damn it!" He cradled the torn flesh.

"I hate you too!" Shirosaki punched Ichigo this time.

"Fuck you! I've had enough of you!" Ichigo cradled his head, stepping away from the hollow in a dazed manner. He hissed furiously in pain. "I'm leaving!"

"Get out!" Shirosaki shook with frustration and once more the rain grew heavier through the clashing thunder.

When Ichigo returned to the world outside his own he found his mask covering his face, but he didn't remove it. He found it rather comforting to have something to hide behind, even if it were a pair of evil eyes and a grinning smile that told of nothing but lies.

The headache he had felt starting before now sank its teeth into him. He groaned in both anger and pain. He grabbed the bed railing, pulling and clenching it as hard as he could in a small attempt to vent some steam. Stupid hollow.

Swallowing uneasily he felt queasy and couldn't help but to touch his deaf ear as he glared angrily at the white walls. The nauseous feeling didn't want to pass. Leaning back and cleaning his throat, Ichigo began to worry. His worry escalated into fear when another coughing attack hit him. It tore at his throat and he felt himself get covered in sweat. He tried to settle down and take deep breaths. It didn't help.

Instead his mouth started to flood with saliva. It didn't want so stop, and his eyes were wide as he gasped for air. He grabbed at his throat. He tried to swallow but couldn't and phlegm dribbled down his mouth and chin.

Gasping and inhaling sharply, Ichigo clutched his abdomen because of a sudden stab of pain. His body curled together as his head leaned forward, sharp moans of pain escaping him. He supported his head against his hand. He tried to breathe the pain away through the intense coughing that left his body covered in sweat.

Squeezing his eye's shut Ichigo moaned again. Ugh. He tried to straighten out, but his stomach kept itself knot. Struggling, his hand gently kneaded at his soft stomach, and ever so slowly he managed to relax enough to lie down.

Grimacing as the attack subsided, Ichigo felt the taste of blood in his mouth. He reached up and scraped his claws carefully against his tongue. No blood on his fingers. Frowning, he pushed his fingers in deeper and against the insides of his cheeks. Nothing, just a lot of saliva.

Drying his mouth of the offending drool with the bedcovers, Ichigo wondered if he was hallucinating. It tasted like his mouth was filled with blood, yet there was only transparent phlegm. He tried to relax, his body feeling heavy and wasted in the sweat-soaked bed.

The saliva wouldn't stop flowing from his mouth, and it was hard to lie on his back. He was getting worried; it was not normal to drool this much. If he leaned forward and relaxed his jaw, it only took a couple of seconds before the thick, blood-tasting phlegm made a small pool on the white bed spread.

Figuring this wasn't something to keep secret, Ichigo pushed the button and hoped the Espada would come quickly. After a couple of minutes Ichigo pushed the button again. Closing his mouth, he settled on breathing through his nose that seemed filled with snot or some other vile substance.

Eventually the eighth Espada entered the isolation room, once more dressed in the hazard suite. Ichigo didn't like it when the scientist wouldn't speak to him but instead seemed keener on taking samples of the saliva with a large q-tip.

"Wh-" Ichigo tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth all the phlegm that had gathered flooded out. It was disgusting and Ichigo shuddered and he couldn't stop the reflex to vomit. He lurched forward and threw up. It came in waves, the liquid mingled with green gastric acid.

But that wasn't the worst part; it was that the acid that came from his stomach flowed into his lungs instead, as his chest was wide open. Ichigo panicked and he screamed through the vomit.

The eight Espada was quick to help, assisting Ichigo in leaning forward even more for the thick liquid to pour out. He knew however that that little action would not help and quickly removed the IV's from Ichigo's arm before pulling the shaking boy out of bed.

The Espada carried the boy bridal style out of the isolation room. He ignored the alarm that was set off when he forced the outermost door open.

Hurrying, he placed the vizard in the open shower compartment that was made for emergencies to clean out wounds and such. Grabbing the shower hose, he pulled it out and turned the boy around to place it inside the lungs to wash them out.

Ichigo hacked violently and tried to move away from the water that drowned him, but Szayel held him his arm in a hard grip. The gastric acid and saliva was cleaned out by the violent water.

Standing on all fours and supporting himself by the elbow and with a great deal of effort Ichigo lowered himself to lie down on the smooth, white tile. He breathed heavily, his entire body shaking violently and his eyes filled with tears from pain and fear. His chest still burned, but he couldn't find the strength to scream and only low moans escaped him.

"I will give you something to stop the excessive formation of saliva."

Something was placed in his mouth after the Espada returned; something dry that seemed keen on sucking up the saliva, which seemed to have lessened a lot after he had thrown up. He was given a pill for pain relief that Szayel pushed directly into his esophagus from the hole in his lungs.

Ichigo didn't really notice any of it, but he did get a little more clearheaded when he was lifted to his feet and placed on a low bed nearby after being cleaned off from sweat. As he sat in a slumping position, his entire body sagging together from exhaustion, he was helped into a new gown by a Fracción. He was told to wear a protective operating mask over his mouth from now on, so his saliva would not contaminate anything sterile in the room.

The Fracción walked back with him to his room. There he lay down the bed with a relieved sigh and fresh covers were placed over him. With a sigh and a grimace Ichigo fell back into the covers, finally alone. His entire body felt like it had been beaten with a sledgehammer several times, especially his head. His face crumbled and contorted in pain.

Sitting down in front of his desk, Szayel wrote down the change of characteristics of the symptoms the vizard boy was experiencing. It was, after all, the most interesting stage of development so far and no quick change in Ichigo's status would occur again for a long while. At least, it hadn't on the other subject.

He thought over the alternatives and figured taking a dozen more samples would have to do for now. He had to report the outcome of the boy even if he was reluctant to do so. Twenty four hours after the incident, with no change to the exhausted condition of the boy, the eight Espada once more headed to Aizen to give a report he knew the man would like.

"I regret to inform you that I have not found anything near an antidote yet, but I'm happy to announce that he's in the right faze, sir." Szayel announced and held up some quick scribbles of what had happened to the boy.

"Very good, very good indeed…" Aizen mumbled as he read the report and eyed some of the test results Szayel had bought with him as well. "So he's able to contaminate others?"

"Yes. As the report says, I found large amounts of the infectious spores in the saliva samples. So if you still plan on loosing this fine subject, this is the time to do so."

"Very well, send him home then," the shinigami said, completely ignoring the request on not letting the boy go.

"Yes, sir," the Espada bowed and left.

Szayel frowned, not wanting to give his fine subject away. But he wouldn't act greedy and not do what he was told. He didn't want to succumb to his master's hypnosis again; he had too many painful memories of that. Too many dreadful manipulations of his psyche. As a scientist, there was no greater humiliation. At least he could hope someone would suffer from sending the boy away.

Said boy lay staring at nothing in his bed. Ichigo wondered if he perhaps was better off in the inner world, cutting away the yellow slimy vines like his hollow was probably doing, but he was still too tried. He blinked wearily and grimaced when he heard someone enter. What now? Ichigo sighed; he was so tired. He could barely hold his eyes open, but the pain in his chest from the acid kept him awake, even with the relieving drugs.

"Kurosaki, you're allowed to leave the isolation room when you feel like it. If you wish to go back to your father you may do so."

"What…?" was all Ichigo could say, the statement from the Espada completely unexpected.

"I said, you are allowed to leave you-"

"Why the sudden change?" Ichigo cut in, not really needing to re-hear what the man said. "We couldn't go before," Ichigo paused to take a shaky breath, "and it seems like we got a lot worse yesterday."

"True, but since you are rapidly getting worse, I discussed the matter with Aizen and we agreed that you might appreciate some time with you family and friends," he lied; he couldn't make it seem like there were dark intentions behind the decision.

At first Ichigo said nothing, but then his lips tightened. He looked at the Espada seriously.

"We do not wish to go back there," there was no way he was going back. The only reason he had come back to Las Notches was because here he would not hurt is family. Here he couldn't slay the ones he loved, "especially not now when we are sick."

Damn it. Szayel thought grimly. He had not anticipated this.

"But I'm sure they miss you." Szayel wasn't good at this. Family. What a pathetic thing. The boy beneath him was a hollow, why hadn't he stopped caring? Probably hadn't eaten enough souls to get rid of pitiful emotions.

"Oh, we know they miss us," said Ichigo, "and we miss them. But we're a hollow and they're not."

"I'm sure they can overlook that small fact," Szayel's face strained.

"They can't," Ichigo pressed, "you should know that as well as us." Going back wasn't what he wanted, not until he was normal again, which was something he would never be. The more time he spent home the more hollow he felt inside. It was easier to see the gap between him and all living things when he was there. The cold and empty feeling it created only pressed his soul deeper into darkness and the deeper he went there, the more the monster inside told him to kill.

"Well, you have to go," the Espada finally said, unable to come up with anything to say on the family subject.

"Why?" Ichigo pressed.

"Because, if you won't then master Aizen will make sure you do. He doesn't want sick vermin like you running around in his palace," Szayel threatened, he needed the boy out of here before Aizen made things nasty.

"What?" Ichigo didn't know if he was going to laugh or not. Not that he ever laughed, but still.

"Aizen threw away the first Espada that got infected. He will not hesitate to do the same to you."

"What are we going to do?" Ichigo's eyes were slightly panic-stricken from the serious demeanor of the scientist.

"What I said; go home."

"We can't go home."

"Then somewhere else."

"The shinigami will try to kill us," Ichigo protested.

"The stay out of harms way," Szayel pressed.

"What's wrong with you? Why do you think we came to the desert in the first place? It certainly wasn't to get locked up in this fucking place!"

Szayel did not intend to argue with a mere child anymore. "Either you leave willingly and I will give you some supplies or I'll throw you out with nothing but your hide! Go to you're damn family and stay there!"

Choosing to interpret those words as a threat, Ichigo became placating. Still, he growled under his breath as he gave into the demands. "All right. Fine. We hear you. We'll go."

He had never heard him swear before, nor had he heard his voice twitch into the deep growl of the monster that also clawed within Szayel, always trying to get out and consume whatever stood in the way. Ichigo swallowed uneasily. He was in no condition to face that monster.

"You're leaving tomorrow," said the eighth Espada and left. He wasn't going to undergo any torture just because the child refused to go.

Tomorrow arrived too soon for Ichigo's liking. Several Fracción forced him out of his bed, placed a mouth-protecting mask over his hollow one without his consent and dragged his struggling body out of the isolation room.

"We don't want go!" Ichigo said as his was forced to sit on a gurney.

"Master says patient will go, so he will!" A small, round and dense looking Fracción said. It was serious, even if its stupid, high-pitched voice reminded Ichigo of his hollow.

Well enough Ichigo was allowed to put on his old uniform on his own. He greatly appreciated it, glad to wear something other than the embarrassing gown. The rougher fabric of the white uniform did a better job at hiding Ichigo's scrawny form. Nevertheless, he still looked tired and thin beyond belief. Tiredly he growled lowly when the eight Espada approached.

Szayel put a small bag on the side of the white gurney Ichigo was sitting on.

"I put medication and a container with nutrients for you in here. I also put a folder in there for your father so he can more easily understand what has happened to you."

Ichigo looked inside the bag, fingering at the two glass bottles, reading their names. Cephalexin. Frowning, Ichigo knew what that was. It was a type of antibiotic, generally used to treat bacterial infections. He remembered it from a book he had once read, forced upon him by his father. He didn't know what the other one was.

"We want Zangetsu before we leave," Ichigo demanded.

Sazyel's eyebrows twitched in irritation and he closed the zipper of the bag and put it in Ichigo's lap. Not letting his request drop, Ichigo pushed the bag away like it was something disgusting.

"We're not leaving without our cleaver," he said sternly.

"Fine," the Espada said, annoyed, "I'll send a servant to get it with you." He didn't feel like arguing and he needed the boy to leave. He didn't want to have to convince him again.

"Go to your family," Szayel demanded one last time as he watched the boy walk off. He could only hope that Ichigo did as Aizen requested. Or perhaps he could hope Aizen would not track the boy with the collar.

As promised the Fracción opened the door for Ichigo to step inside his bleak room. Zangetsu lay on his bed, untouched. His cleaver was heavy on his back and Ichigo couldn't help but to hunch forward a bit as he carried it, no matter how comforting the gently humming, friendly power it emitted was.

Being lead outside by the lean looking Fracción, the sun shone brightly and Ichigo greatly appreciated it. He closed his eyes for a little bit and lapped up the sunlight. It felt good. At least there were some good things in the land of the dead.

The Gargantuan first appeared as a line. A buzzing sound was heard and the line exploded into a black gaping hole, tearing the air and space into threads. Strong winds blew through Ichigo's matted orange hair and the gate stretched and ate itself wider. The black portal hung before them and Ichigo stepped into the black mouth of the portal, wondering what he was now.

Monster? Death God? Disease? A young boy filled with nothing but regret?

End of Chapter