Chapter 37: Thrall
Mayuri Kurotsuchi wasn't one to let others do the work for him. He hadn't become captain of the 12th division, learned Bankai or become the 2nd president of the Research and Development Institute by sitting back and watch. He had always been one to take matters into his own hands and make all the breakthroughs.
He and his scientists weren't getting results fast enough to save Unohana's nurses. No one had died yet but things were getting pretty dire out there. He himself had no personal desire to cure them, but doing so would prove an admiral challenge in the name of science. And of course, he wouldn't say no to the chance to have a new Vizard to experiment on.
However, Unohana was urging him to work faster and stop playing around, as she had so nicely worded it. Science was no game. Yes, it was fun indeed, but he did not work in a playground. Insolent woman. So, as he was now working within a tighter time frame, Mayuri once more took matters into his own hands.
The best way to remove an infection if not affected by antibiotics was, of course, to cut off the infected limb and use Hojiku-Zai, his most effective flesh-mending drug, to make the limb grow back. However, it was one thing to re-grow an arm or a leg. Re-growing a brain was, unfortunately, not an option.
So, with the task at hand Mayuri let the Vizard boy remain his prime subject. Folding several notes together, he rose to his feet. Returning to his main laboratory, Mayuri watched the vizard wrench ineffectively at his bonds. Stupid thing. Thinking it could do anything while under the influences his drugs. All of his hollow subjects did seem inferior to shinigami in most ways, so it was of no surprise to him that even vizards were limited in both mind and understanding.
Clicking with his tongue and shaking his head disapprovingly, obviously getting tired of having to drug the boy heavily for every session; Mayuri frowned and filled a syringe with golden liquid.
Focusing on the shining needle, a sour sweat that drew fluid from previous injections lathered Ichigo's face. His skull begun to throb where his head had been struck by one of the scientists for not laying still and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Exhaling violently, inhaling with force, he snorted like a well-run horse. Since he couldn't avoid being injected, all he could do was hope it wasn't lethal. He hadn't been able to keep himself away from any of the other injections before either.
At the sight of Ichigo's still body, an unpleasant smile spread across the doctor's painted face and he struck the needle into the crook of Ichigo's arm once more, hitting the exact same place as the scientists did all the other times. At least it didn't hurt; the left arm as dead as ever.
The creepy smile didn't fade as Mayuri expertly guided the needle into the vein, at once slipped loose the knot in the tourniquet around Ichigo's arm. The tip of his white thumb reddened as it put pressure on the plunger. In the transparent barrel of the syringe, the dark stopper began to move slowly from the top toward the tip, forcing the golden fluids into the needle and the Vizard's body.
Eyes flying open and full of fear, Ichigo tried not to scream as a terrible chemical heat spread rapidly throughout his circulatory system, mixing with his spirit-energy and forcing his veins open. His pupils dilated and Ichigo did his best to expel the visions of the injection killing him.
Snorting heavily, Ichigo tried to think of other things, but it was hard when his legs started to shake unwillingly and sweat beaded his entire body. Before Ichigo knew it, convulsions and painful cramps hit. His jaw set, his eyes rolled up into his skull and his body arched upwards, his back muscles contracting and involuntarily he urinated himself.
It was beyond embarrassing, especially with the scientists taking notes of his reactions. The urge to cry was overwhelming but he held it back. Keeping his eyes shut whilst he was cleaned off, Ichigo could hear Mayuri mutter angrily to himself. Feeling almost proud that the man had hit yet another failure, Ichigo hoped Mayuri would just give up. Even if Ichigo bitterly knew that it would probably take several hundred more failures before he did, it was still one step closer towards that goal.
Yet, whenever Mayuri had an unwanted outcome, he seemed to lose his temper. Not in the sense that he was screaming and hitting things like Ichigo found consoling, but in the sense that he would rub his temples, frown darkly and then proceed to order his scientists to redo almost every test they had already done, to see if his failed solution had changed anything at all.
This time it was no different. Squeezing his eyes shut again, Ichigo begged for no more medicine, or whatever it was that they pumped him full off. It was making him sick. Everything about the facility was making him sick. Ichigo told it to both Mayuri and every new scientist he saw, but no one would listen and acted as if wasn't talking at all. His screaming seemed to be the only thing that made them acknowledge him. It seemed to be the only thing he could do to disturb them.
The good thing about screaming, Ichigo thought, was that they had a hard time shutting him up. It wasn't like just closing his mouth would stop it. The scream would still resonate out of his open lungs and this time, as with most of the times, a damp fabric reeking with pungent chemistry was placed over his nose and mouth that turned the world black.
Although Ichigo thought that he had opened his eyes an instant after closing them, a couple of hours must have passed in that blink. He was back in the cell again, clueless in what had happened to him after the chloroform. But it didn't matter; he had been spared the memory of another session that would later become a nightmare.
Trying to rise from the mattress, Ichigo experienced a wave of dizziness that washed him back down. Shivers went through him and the sweat from before still coated his body. He felt groggy and thirsty. His tongue was severely swollen and numb. It reminded him of the feeling he got when he went to the dentist and was given a novocaine shot. His lips felt and probably looked like he had gotten collagen injections.
There was a terrible burning in the veins in his right arm as well and as he peered down on it, he could see cracks in the bone-skin. An IV catheter with an injection valve had been inserted there after they had drilled a hole through his hard skin some time ago. He tried to ignore the fact that every time the catheter moved ever so slightly, it would sting horribly and later result in the white skin darkening into a sickening purple.
It was like this after almost every session with the scientists. Mayuri wasn't always there, and those were the less frightening. Not that this one had been very bad, it had mostly just been a test of one injection and the rest he didn't remember. These times were the best, when he just woke up sea sick and disoriented. Then he could pretend it just wasn't real.
Yet, it made him unable to tell how long he had been under Mayuri's thrall because of it. He could have been here for months, if not years for all he knew. The cold and tight feeling within him gained in power and he wished to scream at the very thought of it, but he held himself back, the hideous agonized roar caught in his throat. No one that could hear him would care anyway.
Hunger stabbed at him, making him lean forward and gasp sharply at the feeling of agony in his chest. He couldn't get his mind off of it, that tight and hollow feeling within him. He tried to swallow, to force the hunger away, but his mouth was dry.
Squeezing his eyes shut, his breath wheezed in his throat and he wished his hunger would stop eating him, but it only seemed to bite, his chest flaring with despair. A desperate whine escaped him, making him bite his lower lip.
Every time the numbing drug, that he had come to call 'Unohana's drug', was introduced to Ichigo's circulatory system, his instincts would slack, the hunger fade and his hole would pull itself together and become smaller. However when the drugs faded, the hole would painfully grow larger again, the hunger starting to bubble up inside of him, the gnawing feeling of keeping the emotions at bay pulling at his mind. He was too tired to fight it and he was beginning to give in to it every time the hole grew.
It would tear at his ribcage and pain his back. He breathed through gritted teeth and squeezed his eyes shut again. Maybe it was part of dying. Slowly, slowly dying as all life he had borrowed slipped out of his chest. Silently he wondered if the souls he had consumed were laughing at him now.
The drugs didn't just quiet the monster, his mind became slow and sluggish too, making it hard to remember what had happened sometimes or to know what was going on at all. It was making him delirious. The sweet air wasn't making it any better either. Sure, the spirit-energy in the air wasn't so thick in the little cell, the sekki-sekki rock doing a good job at keeping it low, but it was still there as a cruel reminder of a sweet taste on his tongue that had no real effect.
As he sat rocking back and forth slowly on the floor, he could smell someone approach. Trying hard to create a wall to block out the bad feelings in his chest long enough to pull himself to his feet, Ichigo didn't get far before the jailer entered. Throwing himself forward with his mouth open and expression wild, Ichigo couldn't stop himself from attacking. He had his teeth in the jailers left arm before he could move out of the way.
"Bloody animal!" shouted the jailer and shoved Ichigo's face away and made quick work with grabbing both his Taser and drawing his katana.
At the sight of the weapons Ichigo raged and screamed; his angry snarls booming loudly in the room, the steel he was chained to rattling in its hinges. He bellowed; all tendons in his throat visible.
Jumping without much thought, Ichigo flew straight into the Tazer blow and collapsed hard on the ground. Wasting no time, the jailer backed off, moved out of the cell and ran off while Ichigo was still paralyzed. He was quick to return with a long metal rod with a small hook on the front. Carefully he fastened it on one of the steel loops on Ichigo's hollow-collar and out of it magical Kidõ ropes snaked their way around the collar and through the other loops.
Ichigo growled, but as soon as he did, his breath was gone. The collar around his neck had been activated from the rod. Twitching and cramping in pain, all the energy Ichigo had regained from his sleep was stolen from him. It was only active for a few seconds but it was more than enough to exhaust him. Slurring lowly and moaning in pain, Ichigo was pulled to his shaking feet with the black rod. It hurt when the guard tugged forcefully at it, making his head jut back and forth.
Despite the shocking collar feeling like it had almost killed him, the wound on the shingami's arm had spilled a small amount of golden spirit-energy, traces of which he'd gotten onto his teeth. The little taste of it sent shivers down his spine. However, it seemed to have another effect as well. One that Ichigo didn't appreciate.
Right after coming out into the white section of the research facility, his frail body shook even worse than before and he threw up. He took quick, short breaths to try and make it go away, but it didn't help. Thick, blood-tasting phlegm sprayed from his mouth and most of it ended up flowing down his face and he choked on it. He lurched forward, it coming in waves.
Uttering loud swearwords, the jailer pulled and forced Ichigo with him, dragging him back into his cell. Panting loudly, but feeling slightly better as all the chemicals he had been filled with washed away, Ichigo collapsed upon the mattress.
After making sure Ichigo was securely fastened to the cell again the jailer rushed away, quickly telling the authorizers of what had happened. The 12th division captain wasted no time, his Kidõ sealing off the area so it could be de-contaminated and samples could safely be taken.
It took time to clean it all properly and Mayuri did his best to hold back the playful urge to just dissect the vizard right now. He needed it alive to see the progression of the disease. He gritted his teeth at that, but remained calm around his subordinates. He knew time was short with getting the delivery method of the disease under control. He didn't want to risk further outbreak.
Now that he knew how it spread, he quickly returned to his private room. A while ago Mayuri had made clones of his own internal organs. The operation of making them had been conceived of and carried out in the span of less than an hour. However, successfully contaminating them was another matter it proved, as the disease didn't want to reproduce by simply introducing sampled cells into the cloned organs. He had to make several attempts, as taking them directly from the body via a syringe seemed not to work.
However, now with his newly acquired contaminant, the boy's saliva, he found spores that seemed to be the key for spreading the fungus. When he tried using it, the result was immediate and the rate of spreading immense.
This infection was certainly nothing he had encountered before. The way it grew it reminded him of a fungus, a carnivorous one. The energy readings from his machines suggested a hollow-based life form. Its origin was therefore either in Hell or Hueco Mundo. It could have come from Hell and then spread to Hueco Mundo on hollows that had redeemed their time and been released into the hollow desert.
Slowly he was making progress with the new information and eventually he was convinced that he had at least managed to get close to containing the disease. What Mayuri managed to construct was a pill, easy to deliver and handle.
Once more moving away from his desk with its massive computer screen, Mayuri couldn't help but to rub his hands together. Finally he was getting somewhere! A ghost of a smile shadowed his face and with his new success in hand he proceeded to test it.
Refusing to open his mouth, Ichigo tried to move his head away. Annoyed, the scientist pressed his gloved fingers hard into the side of Ichigo's jaws, forcing his mouth open and the pill down his throat.
The pill fell out where his throat ended, the tablet falling into his left lung. Panicking, Ichigo coughed hard. He pulled at the restrains holding his arms in place, the bindings glowing intensely as the magic in them did its best to keep Ichigo from getting free. Because of his struggles he was given a hard hit in the stomach and then another shot of the numbing drug. Ichigo sagged into the hard table he lay upon.
Annoyed, the scientists seemed to realize that they couldn't give Ichigo the experimental medicine the normal way. Discussing the matter briefly between each other, the scientists came to the same conclusion Ichigo had done in the empty cleaning room so many, many days ago. A rush of worry swept over Ichigo as they approached again, yet he wished for them to remove the pill so he could breathe properly.
He looked away and tried to focus on something else than the hand that groped inside his lungs, but he couldn't, the feeling so alien and horrible. It made him want to scream.
When the pill was out, the man felt for the swallowing path and managed to push it down deeply enough to for the muscle contraction to do the rest. The sensation was creepy to say the least and Ichigo squirmed. Sweat beaded his skin and he did his best not to breathe.
Once the hand was out, Ichigo closed his eyes and he couldn't shut out another volley of vivid imagery of what the pill might do to him.
Seeming to have wrapped things up, the scientist sent for the jailer who arrived a couple of minutes later and heaved Ichigo up over his shoulder. Unable to move or do little else than moan in protest because of the drugs immobilizing him, Ichigo was once more thrown back into his cell.
After several more sessions with at least five pills a day for what felt like weeks and modifications of the drug, the medicine seemed to have some effect on the boy. It seemed to have managed to stop the boy's saliva from flowing. This was a major improvement, as it could be passed onto the nurses. However the threat of death wasn't going away, since the fungus was still growing.
Back in his cell, Ichigo tried not to think about the massive bruises that covered both his arms from having spirit-energy constantly drawn and the several-times-daily injections. They were purple and black, standing out sharply against his white skin. The constant pain in his lungs from having hands forcing medicine down his esophagus made it hard to breathe. He tried resting, but rest didn't want to come and it felt like not even a day had passed until the jailer came to get him yet again. Ichigo hissed at him, but it only burned his throat and didn't make any difference to the shinigami.
Mayuri wasn't around, no one other than Ichigo and his cruel escort was in the corridor and through the open door they were heading for, the honey smell told Ichigo of only two scientists. There were usually eight scientists around. Trying to turn around and look at the jailer escorting him, Ichigo was sure that the jailer had seemed unusually tired and distracted when coming to get him.
Seeing the opportunity for escape, Ichigo vented with his spirit-energy and twisted around violently and forced the rod from the jailer's hands. The jailer shouted and threw himself after Ichigo, but with another twist, Ichigo managed to steer the rod away from the jailer's grabbing hands. Wasting no time, he sprinted away the best he could.
The jailer's calls were loud and he was quick to his feet. So were the two scientists in the examination room and they were out and after Ichigo in a matter of seconds. Without any delay they fired kidõ at him. Picking up speed, Ichigo couldn't believe his luck as he managed to dodge the incoming magic and rushed past several closed doors through the white corridors.
They split into many new hallways and Ichigo darted into a new one with every chance he got. Around the fourth corner, Ichigo found himself in front of a spiralling metal staircase. Rushing up the small steps, he didn't have the slightest clue where he was heading, but at least the Kidõ couldn't reach him.
With his breath caught in his throat, the stairs ended abruptly with a closed door. Feeling victorious over that he managed to jump and grab the handle enough for the door to open, Ichigo stumbled out.
The white corridor he found himself in looked exactly like the one downstairs. It was luckily enough empty and without a second thought Ichigo sprinted to the left. As he ran around another corner he could hear the jailer barge through the door as well.
Not exactly looking where he was going, Ichigo stopped at the shock from seeing a window and lush nature outside. Inhaling through his nose before ramming at the glass with his right shoulder, Ichigo hit the glass hard. The violent knock against the unbroken glass caused him to fall to the ground as his bound hands offered little support.
Before he even had a chance to try and get to his feet again, his right leg was grabbed and forcefully pulled away from the windowpane. Crying out and breathing through clenched teeth, Ichigo tried to kick. However, the jailer managed to grab the rod that was attached to his collar and he pushed it down toward the ground. Gurgling, Ichigo wondered through hazy fear if his neck would snap from the pressure. Silently he bitterly hoped that it would.
Several hands grabbed at him and their shinigami spirit-energy burned his skin. They forced their fingers into his arms and legs firmly, leaving what felt like a hundred bruises behind. He was making horrid little sounds of terror, like the bleats of an animal. He tried to silence himself, but couldn't, not when every hit scorched him. But coiling on the ground didn't stop the Forced Slumber Kidô from dilating his pupils several times and knocking him out.
With a violent shake Ichigo woke up. He didn't know if seconds or hours had passed again, but he guessed at the latter because his neck was cramping from the unconformable position he had been laying in. He tried to sit up, but he was overwhelmed with throbbing pain. Swallowing and breathing heavily Ichigo could feel a convulsion hit him. His eyes rolled back into his head, and for a brief moment he was unable to breathe or swallow. An involuntary moan escaped him. The attack lasted only ten or fifteen seconds, but it was enough to scare him.
It left him exhausted and Ichigo begged for no more to come. His legs and abdomen were blue and dark red from punches. Moaning, he pushed himself across the hard surface of the floor. It hurt, his arms red and bruised, but he wanted to lie on the mattress.
He had an abnormal high threshold for pain, he knew that, but that didn't make the pain hurt any less. It didn't make the needles pierce his skin less, didn't make the cuts any less deep. He could only endure it for so much longer periods than most people, but that limit constantly regressing the more sessions in the laboratory he had. Why did they have to hit him so much?
Soon enough he knew he would whimper like a child. The fear of suffering was worse than the suffering itself. It was the dread that ate him the most; waiting for pain he knew was to come...
Waiting seemed to be the only thing he could do. Wait for his father to save him. Where was he? Was he outside screaming for his son's release? Was his father in another cell, in another room, undergoing the same thing as himself? Was he home in the real world, relieved that he no longer had to bother with a hollow as a son?
Slowly, Ichigo's gaunt and mangy body curled into a ball. Letting out a shaky breath, Ichigo couldn't stop the loud wail that followed at the dark thought.
Falling back into the storm of his spirit, Ichigo felt the cold rain burn against his sore skin. Standing on the edge of one of the skyscrapers, he remained silent and felt the rain drench him. It made him unable to distinguish the tears from the water. Tightly he curled his right arm over his chest, relishing the feeling of not having his hands bound.
His soul was no longer the beautiful place of hope and dreams that it had once been. There was a thin mist from all the mind numbing drugs across his inner-world, and when he waved his hand in front of his face to clear it, Ichigo could see his black, gaping sun, twisting tornadoes and flooded and infected buildings.
Almost every window on every skyscraper was covered with curtains, the newest memories covered with wooden planks that Ichigo never wanted removed. However, there were some windows that Ichigo would always find himself in front of. Peering thought the fog and rain, past the wet glass, he could hint at his mother comforting him after a karate training session; her smile burning small white holes in his blackening hope. The other was of him eating dinner with his father and little sisters. They were small and simple memories, but enough to keep him clinging onto his sanity.
Rubbing his eyes and blinking the rain away, Ichigo looked at the pale hollow that wasn't too far away. He was on all fours, his hands grabbing the blunt side of his white Zangetsu and scraping the sharp edge along the surface of the skyscraper. Turning around to look at Ichigo, Shirosaki rose to his feet and walked over.
"Is it over?"
"For now."
A sigh of relief could be heard from the white boy from below the hollow mask he wore before he turned back to what he was previously doing.
Ichigo just stood there looking at the hollow through the fog and rain for a while, too mentally exhausted to do anything else. He could see the crumbled, sad remains of one of his buildings as he looked off to the left.
"Did that really have to go...?" he whispered more to himself than anyone else.
"Yes," Shirosaki answered anyway.
"What was in there?"
"Memories from when you were in elementary school. Third grade I believe."
"Damn..." Ichigo swore under his breath and looked away. There could have been memories of his mother in there. He still remembered her death so that was not gone. Happy memories were probably lost. He clenched his fists together and the rain intensified even if he knew that there was little he could do about it.
"If I hadn't destroyed it, it would have spread more easily to the other buildings!"
"I know, I know!" Ichigo grunted fiercely in response.
"Then stop crying and help me remove it, damn it!"
Ichigo frowned again, looking sour below the mask that he also wore to hide his face, "I didn't come here for any other reason."
"Ch´!"
Ignoring the hollow's noise, Ichigo grabbed his own Zangetsu, instantly missing his cleaver in the real world. Maybe if he had had it in there, he could get out. If he had though, the shinigami would have taken it and probably experimented on it too or destroyed it all together.
Snivelling loudly Ichigo swallowed the lump in his throat and together they fought the disease, doing their best to remove it from the buildings. It took forever and they made little progress.
Both of their clothes were drenched and Ichigo's hands were shaking from the harsh winds. Peering over to the hollow, Ichigo couldn't help but notice that Shirosaki's fingers hardly moved at all and were probably frozen stiff long ago. Ichigo grimaced at that, but he knew better than to confront the hollow about it; there was nothing to do about it anyway.
Getting up to his feet, Ichigo sighed deeply. He was too tired for this. Without a word he walked away to one of the infection free buildings. There he sat down again, looking at a memory flowing inside it. It was of his family having a picnic.
His mother, father and sisters were there. It was a warm morning and the blanket they had with them was new and extra soft against his bare feet.
Hearing Shirosaki walk up and stop next to him, Ichigo dried his nose against his sleeve and stood up.
"It was a Sunday…" he said quietly to the hollow. Shirosaki already knew about the memory, but he let Ichigo talk anyway, "mom had made food for all of us," Ichigo smiled lightly, "but dad had already eaten most of it by mid-day. He claimed the taste was terrible, just so he could have it all for himself."
There was a splitting of the clouds for a brief second, a glimpse of almost peace, and in that rare moment Shirosaki made sure not to miss it.
"Karin started crying like crazy…" the small smile still remained.
"And Isshin did the most stupid face on earth!" Shirosaki added.
"Then he magically handed Karin a cinnamon-bun... I still don't know where he got it from."
He was about to say more, but fell quiet half way, looked up and frowned. "Someone is coming," he mumbled and Shirosaki only nodded to him in return.
As Ichigo disappeared the weather changed dramatically, the sky clouded over again, the rain intensifying and tornadoes resumed ripping through the streets.
"I told you to hurry, Kurotsuchi."
Ichigo recognised the voice as he was led into the now familiar examination room. Unohana. She was standing next to one of the counters talking to Mayuri irritatingly as Ichigo was forced upon the metallic table again and secured there. What was she doing here?
"Hey," Ichigo tried to get her attention. He called her name but she ignored him, "Help us! They're torturing us!" He begged for help, but she only looked right through him when she turned her head in his direction, seeming annoyed.
"Two of my nurses have died so far and the disease managed to spread onto five others before you delivered the medication," Unohana said, "you said that you would find a cure before anything serious would happen."
"It's taking longer because I have to stay away from any life-threatening operations on the Vizard. I have to see how the disease progresses on him since you won't let me have one of your nurses. If you could just let me hav-"
"You know very well that I won't let you," Unohana cut him short.
Mayuri only sneered at Unohana in response before he folded a few papers together. "Since you are not satisfied with only my reports of the progress, I'll show you."
Turning around, Mayuri motioned with his hand and nodded towards one of his scientists and at the silent command, the bung was removed from the IV catheter and another massive dose of the numbing drug was added to Ichigo's vessel. His eyes rolled into his skull as he slumped against the table a couple of seconds later. He didn't lose consciousness, but close to it.
The result of the injections in his arm and its failures were explained, the spread of the disease; of how it had grown into his hair, down his entire humanoid arm, back, chest and was slowly nesting into his lungs.
"From the information you have given me on your subordinates, the fungus seems to specialise on the victim, that's why it's so slow to grow on both ends. However I do think that the spread is considerably slower on the Vizard," Mayuri said and gestured towards Ichigo.
"The symptoms on my nurses seem to include nausea, vomiting, coughing blood, and abdominal pain for some," responded Unohana, "also swelling, headaches behind the eyes, facial pain, fevers and difficulty breathing seem to be strong indicators of infection as well."
"Hmm… yes," breathed Mayuri and took notes on a piece of paper he was holding. "The Vizard's body seems to be constantly trying to heal it away with its hollow regeneration ability; thus slowing it down but making the subject constantly exhausted."
Walking back to the counter they had been at before, they discussed something Ichigo couldn't hear for several minutes before returning to his side.
"Here's something else I want you to see," putting on a pair of latex gloves, Mayuri pushed against the left side of Ichigo's head. "It's spreading from here..." Ichigo could feel a gloved finger trail from his ear, down his throat and move down to the back of his shoulder, "…and then at the back here you can see it forming a mass inside the flesh of the muscle. It is hard to the touch."
A mass!? Ichigo had not felt that before, at least not as something so serious. He wanted to shout and question it, but all he managed was to utter a loud moan and a scowl to form on his face.
"Is it some sort of bud?" Unohana asked thoughtfully, seeming fascinated.
"Yes, I think it is..." Mayuri mused and seemed to walk off back to the counter where he grabbed something Ichigo couldn't see. "If you come with me I will show you a couple of MRI scans I have taken..."
They were saying more things but they left the room so Ichigo couldn't hear it when the door closed behind them.MRI scans? He had no memories of that. What mass in his shoulder? Questions whirled in his mind that morphed into dread. He didn't want to die here. Gritting his teeth, Ichigo closed his eyes and tied to get his limbs moving though will alone, but it was as futile as all the other times, especially when a reeking cloth was placed over his mouth and nose.
Things were getting worse, Ichigo could tell. Unohana's visit had made Mayuri press his research and they were taking more samples than never, and they were getting sloppier with cleaning it up afterwards.
Ichigo's cell wasn't dirty, but it still made him worry when the swollen area around the stitches on his left arm from where they had taken away a large part of the disease didn't go down. The entire arm had swollen to at least twice its normal size and the places where tissue samples had been taken didn't want to heal any more. Where his blood should have been there was now dark sludge. Black, infected puss from where the fungus had been damaged. It pumped from the stitches as if he still had a heart and Ichigo could see it fester from failed healing.
It wasn't just the arm that wasn't fairing too well though. Looking down at his nails, both on his human hand and toes, Ichigo could see that they all looked odd, in a very bad way. They had caught his attention due to the strange colour they had acquired. He tried twisting his working arm around to get a better look at his human one. Carefully Ichigo managed to jab one of his claws at his humanoid thumb. To his gruesome shock the nail fell off.
Wide eyed, Ichigo could only stare at the nail on the floor. His nail-lustre was dissolving. Gulping, Ichigo held his arms and feet away from anything that could tear his nails away and he tried to swallow away panic. He buried his face in the mattress and hoped he would suffocate. Instead he was disturbed by a foot stepping on his lower leg.
"Get up," a stern voice ordered.
Dry lips parted with a groan and Ichigo didn't acknowledge the foot. A rough hand grabbed at his hair and yanked him up. Ichigo yelped and tried to pull away.
"Time for treatment," the jailer said, sounding annoyed and secured Ichigo with the rod.
Treatment... what that another word for torture? Ichigo thought as he watched the chain that kept him secured to the floor being released.
Doing his best to get to his feet, Ichigo staggered a little before finding his footing and straightened as much as his pained body would allow; which wasn't much at all. He was lead off through the same hall as before and it wasn't long until the captain was in his face.
"Put him over there," Mayuri ordered quickly, after giving Ichigo a calculating look.
Ichigo was exhausted, but he tried to struggle anyway, even if he knew he had no real chance of escaping when so tired. A shove from the jailer made Ichigo almost fall, but he managed to get his hollow hand up on the edge of the steel table and tried to push away. The jailer seemed to have anticipated this and shoved Ichigo back into the table again even harder. Ichigo jack-knifed over the table when the edge hit straight into his guts, his face slamming into the metal. His hand got jammed painfully between himself and the table.
Moving in close, the jailer didn't give Ichigo room to escape, and the other scientists in the room took the chance and grabbed the boy and dragged him up on the table and secured him there. Pulling at the straps around his legs and arms, Ichigo felt the Kidõ ensnare him. Leaning his head back, Ichigo felt defeat wash over him.
A gloved thumb lifted one of his eyelids. His vision was still blurry from yesterday and he weakly bared his teeth at the captain when he leaned in close to his face. Trying to keep his eyes shut, Ichigo turned his face away. He couldn't stand to look at that painted face.
"His reactions are still at acceptable levels. Good." The scraping of a pen scribbling down a note was heard, and the rustling of papers.
"Hmm… Alright, we need new samples to see if the injections from yesterday did any difference."
"No please…" Ichigo whimpered, having turned his head to look at the scientist now. The plea was answered with a disgusted look and a small sneer. Ichigo twisted in the restraints. "No more samples, please."
The tongs carefully pushed in under his fingernails, and pulled them away from his fingers. They took the ones on his feet too, leaving the flesh beneath exposed to the air. It hurt and held a horrible and most terrible, uncomfortable feeling. Ichigo begged them not to, but as always his requests were nothing more to them than the whimpers of a dog.
A thin net smeared in a white salve was placed on each toe and finger where the nails had been. Ichigo wished for plasters, but he knew that was too much to ask for.
They took other samples too, of the fungus that had now spread close to his eye. Ichigo did his best not to think about that, or the fact that he could feel the odd spongy consistency of the puss-filled veins at the back of his throat with his tongue.
Before Ichigo had worn his mask in the real world and just not in his inner world. He didn't now because when he did, they would pry on the mask, trying to bend it off his face. They had pushed in tongs and hemosats in under it in an attempt to get it off in one piece so they could place it in a liquid that would stop if from dissolving. However, it would always break into too many small pieces and it would hurt for days. Eventually Ichigo simply stopped wearing it. It was better than the painful bruises on his face, but unfortunately it made the scientists pry at the spreading growth there.
When they were done, Ichigo was once more led back to his cell and he was too tired to struggle more than to try and walk in another direction that he was supposed to. It earned him a series of punches across his back where the rim of his hole was until he did as he was told.
Collapsing upon the mattress, Ichigo closed his tired eyes. His human fingers started to look swollen and his feet were trembling and throbbing. Whimpering, Ichigo tried to blow soft air on tender flesh, trying to cool it down. But his awkward position made him feel sick again. Swallowing dryly, Ichigo tried to breathe slowly, fearing another seizure might hit.
Sometimes he would be overcome by either nausea or giddiness so bad he would watch the room reel as his eyes spun for what felt like hours. At times like this when he felt so sick that he couldn't stand it, he would retreat to his inner-world because there was no other escape.
As soon as he entered his inner sanctum, Ichigo was met with violent explosions and a harsh volley of Getsuga Tenshō's. Ichigo raised his arm to protect his face instinctively and as the dust settled; a blue building was no more. Lowering his arm, Ichigo gasped in surprise as the inner hollow suddenly stood inches away from him and grabbed his upper arm hard.
"Move!" He commanded promptly.
Ichigo gave him a questioning look though the downpour. Letting go of the arm, Shirosaki jabbed a finger at the ground. Looking down at his feet, Ichigo inhaled sharply. The ground was moving. He was standing on an infected building and the soft and warm veins that covered it were growing so fast that it had already ensnared one of his toes.
"Shit!" Ichigo swore and before he managed to do anything, Shirosaki had already made quick work of the fungus with his claws and proceeded with shoving Ichigo away. "Damn it!"
Jumping over to an infection-free building, Ichigo fell to his knees from a bad landing. The world swayed around him and he could only hear Shirosaki fire another Getsuga. One wasn't enough to bring it down and after a couple of more shots, the building eventually gave away.
Feeling slightly panicked and disoriented from where he sat, Ichigo yelped when Shirosaki was suddenly in front of him again, shoving his hand into Ichigo's face.
"How many fingers?" Shirosaki asked, sounding irritated and spread his fingers apart from each other.
"What?" Ichigo asked, not really getting it from where he sat, blinking hard in an attempt to see straight.
"I said, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Ichigo stared at Shirosaki's hand through the fog. There was a short moment of silence then Ichigo growled irritatingly himself. "What does it matter...?"
"Damn it..." Shirosaki cursed, what he had dreaded showing to be true, "you don't know, do you?"
"No, I don't ok!?" Ichigo shouted and turned away from the hollow. He was too tired for his right now. All he wanted to do was to stay down and never get up. When Shirosaki grabbed his shoulder to force him to look at him, Ichigo pulled back angrily, but he didn't manage to wrench free of Shirosaki's grip.
"Fuck off!" growled Ichigo.
Shirosaki only sneered, but ignored Ichigo's anger even when thunder started to form in the clouds above them. "It's no big deal."
"Not a big deal?! I can't count!" Ichigo threw his arm up into the air helplessly, "how will I know how many guards I have to escape from!? How I know how many -"
"I'll count for you!" the hollow shouted, interrupting Ichigo before he could start ranting.
Ichigo fell silent at that and looked at the hollow. His expression under the mask softened, the thunder subsided and he took a deep breath. "Thanks..." Ichigo breathed, looking away and feeling a little bit bad for the outburst. Shirosaki only responded with a friendly slap on the shoulder.
"Why do you remember how to count then?" asked Ichigo.
"It hasn't spread to my buildings yet. Even at this rate of spreading they won't be affected in months to come," Shirosaki said, and looked away. I hope... he thought bitterly.
"Can't you stop destroying mine? I don't want anymore memory loss!"
"Then we will die quicker, you know that!" Shirosaki sighed, rubbing his temples, "the disease will have consumed everything before long, but, if we destroy the buildings that are infected it takes longer to for it to spread to the next! It won't consume our mind as fast. Yes, if I hadn't destroyed it, you would still be able to count, but the infection would consume the ones around it twice as fast and in the end all of them would crumble! Destroying it slows down the disease which is the better outcome all together!"
"If I get total amnesia I won't have anything to go back to even if we manage to escape! How will I even be able to do that with no memories to draw from? How will I be able to tell when I can escape if I have no more experience? What if I forget how to fight?"
"You won't. I'm your instinct."
Ichigo knew the hollow meant well but he just sighed frustratingly and turned away, not wanting to look at him. Shirosaki wasn't wearing his mask at the moment and he didn't look good. His face was ghastly; sunken eyes, waxen skin and colourless lips. His hair had become thin enough to see his head through, his fingers were more bone than anything, his nails missing now too and the white clothes he wore were tinted an ugly gray and yellow. Ichigo knew he looked the same, if not worse.
Scratching the side of his mask, Ichigo looked out over his inner-world and tried not to think about that the battle in here was just as bad as the fighting to resist Mayuri was. Just from where he sat he could see at least six skyscrapers that lay in ruins. He didn't dare to ask Shirosaki about what had been in there, knowing it wouldn't make any difference if he did, as he wouldn't be able to recall anything Shirosaki told him anyway. At least he knew it wasn't anything life changing like the building now had been. Ichigo trusted Shirosaki enough to know that he would tell him if it were to happen again.
When it would happen again. There was no escape, no matter how much Ichigo had hoped for it. He shuddered at the thought and cradled his limp, swollen arm. He loathed himself for the mistake of following his father. Frowning, the hate for the soul reapers burned hard in his chest and betrayal of his father started to fester inside it.
Turning back around, Ichigo glanced over at the hollow again who had sat down next to him.
"Do you think dad planned this?" His voice was full of spite.
"Don't be stupid," Shirosaki sighed, having had the conversation before, but Ichigo had forgotten it.
"But he's not here! He said he would protect us!"
"If it's so hard for us to get out, why would it be so easy for him to get in?"
"He shouldn't have let us end up in here to begin with!" he barred his teeth below the mask.
"That's very true," said Shirosaki and rubbed his face, "but we shouldn't have been convinced to go here in the first place."
Frowning at that, Ichigo growled underneath his breath. Shirosaki was right, but it didn't matter. Ichigo couldn't quell his growing dislike for his father. To be home and slowly die would have been better than this. To die alone on the streets of Earth would have been better than this.
End of Chapter