Smoke billows out of Ichigo's mouth in a huff. He loosely holds the cigarette in between his lips as he slouches against the decrepit wall of the abandoned hospital. There wasn't a single star in sight and the moonlight couldn't even pierce through the dark foreboding clouds.

He was back in Karakura Town; for the same reason, just for a completely different person. A death, but a deserved one. The first person Ichigo's killed with his own two hands and the only person Rukia's ever killed.

A stick getting snapped echoes in the desolate forest, making Ichigo lean his head back to watch his peripherals. A smile grows on his face as a dark silhouette exits the forest that had taken over the old road leading back to Karakura Town.

"You're late," Ichigo states in a singsong tone.

Rukia glares at him, hefting the bag further up her back. "Shut it. Renji barely managed to distract Nīsama long enough for me to sneak out."

"He's still not giving up, about this," Ichigo questions in more of a statement. His eyebrow was raised, a bit more than simply impressed by the one rich asshole Ichigo actually likes.

"Well, that damn bastard was still on the loose and we disappeared for three days before popping up at the hospital, covered in injuries," Rukia retorts with a pointed look, even though it was her idea to keep the things that happened an eternal secret between them.

"I'm just impressed. We've kept quiet for five years today. I would think he would give up after the first three." Ichigo takes out his cigarette from his mouth and drops it to the ground, crushing the edge of the cigarette to put it out. "You ready? D'you have it all?"

"'course I do! Unlike you, I can actually stay on task," Rukia fondly sneers at her best friend before she marches past to enter the hospital. Ichigo rolls his eyes with a smile, following after the young woman.

They stay in a comfortable silence while they make their way through the abandoned hospital. The path was incredibly familiar despite almost everything always changing as they meet each year. Even with it being a hotspot for the homeless, the gangsters, and the addicts, both know that what they've hidden here would never be found.

The corpse of the notorious serial killer, Grand Fisher.

"It's already been five years... It feels like it's been only one," Rukia sighs quietly. They walk down the old stairwell, passing the first few basement floors.

"50 to 60 more years to go. If either of us live that long." Ichigo walks in step with Rukia as they reach the bottom of the stairwell.

Both react with barely a twitch at the putrid smell of decay and rot. It's faded even more since last year. The lack of ventilation has made it harder for the smell to fully dissipate, but Ichigo wasn't worried.

This hospital always smelled of death. No one bats an eye when an addict goes missing, or when a homeless person dies in their sleep.

"Hello, you piece of shit," Ichigo greets, crouching down to spit on the cement floor.

If anyone, after getting past the inherent terror an abandoned hospital causes, manages to find their way to the very bottom of this hospital, they would find a barred off door and a grimy cement floor. No one, unless they were truly looking for something, would spot how new the floor was compared to the rest of the hospital.

One of the perks of an abandoned hospital. Even if the floor got redone five years ago, it still has the same amount of revolting grime and disgust as the other floors.

"It's been five years since your ass was killed by two teenagers. Enjoying your punishment in Hell while your body rots underneath a place once meant to keep people alive?" Ichigo continues with a cold grin. Rukia shrugs off her bag and kneels down herself. She takes out a bottle of whiskey and hands it over to Ichigo.

"I bet he's pissed that no one remembers him. A serial killer that no one cares about. And they don't even know the fool is dead," Rukia states with a cold smile of her own. Her hand idly presses against one of the many scars she had obtained that night.

Ichigo opens the whiskey bottle and takes a swig straight from the bottle. He chuckles coldly before pouring the rest of the whiskey onto the floor.

"I hope the Devil's made you his sorry little bitch, Grand Fisher. It's not nearly enough for all the victims you stole from the world, but I hope with your death, they're at peace."

It wasn't nearly brutal enough, the moments before his death. In Ichigo's opinion, Grand Fisher, the one who brutally murdered his mother, should have begged for death and repentance before they killed him.

The sky weeps and screams for reprieve as students and adults alike run around like headless chickens, trying to find cover from the rain. 15 year old Ichigo wanders alone down the old streets of Karakura Town, staring aimlessly ahead of himself with exhausted eyes.

Tawny eyes were blank and dark with hollowness. Days to weeks of sleepless nights were made clear by the dark circles underneath his eyes, making unnaturally pale skin appear pallid. The empty expression on his face made his hollow cheeks and his frazzled hair that much more pronounced.

His school uniform was barely seen underneath the hoodie that swallowed him whole. Not that it really mattered. The school uniform would look almost three sizes too big if he didn't wear the hoodie.

"...chigo... Ichigo. Idiot! Ichigo!" The orange haired teenager stops walking and turns around, placing a dead gaze on an irate teenager. 15 year old Rukia glared up at him with a ferocious scowl.

Amethyst eyes were completely closed off and ice cold, only a small spark of a warm flame dancing in them when she gazes at Ichigo. Hard lines of exhaustion and dark circles made her eyes appear even colder and unnerving. Soaked raven hair fell in messy waves over the constant paranoia and suspicion that forever marred her expression.

She was tiny, yet the school uniform somehow fit her perfectly. Black tights covered her legs even when it was in the middle of summer.

Ichigo stares down at Rukia for a long moment, his brain not connecting properly with his sight. He blinks once when it finally clicks, the hollowness ebbing away just slightly at the recognition.

"...Rukia," Ichigo clears his throat at the hoarseness of his voice, "what's up?"

"Asshole. You've been disappearing from the face of the Earth after school ends for the past week. What's going on?" Rukia asks, barrelling right through the bush as always instead of beating around it.

The silence that follows answers her question. Rukia sighs quietly and uncrosses her arms before walking forward. She grabs Ichigo's hand and starts to drag him along.

"You idiot, even the teachers are starting to notice. What's going on?" Rukia asks again, much softer this time.

Ichigo stares down at their entwined hands. It takes a while for his brain to process his own thoughts to answer his friend.

"Mama came to me in that nightmare again. When I woke up, she said she wants to meet with me at the bridge... but she hasn't shown up," Ichigo manages to answer, voice small and almost dream-like in his exhaustion.

Rukia spares him a glance before she sighs quietly. "Nightmares, auditory hallucinations, dissociation... Ichigo, it has to have been at least three days since you last slept."

"...oh. But Mama..." Another blink, more awareness filling in the hollowness of Ichigo's eyes. He glances back down at their entwined hands.

"Maybe she'll show up this time, but you really need to get some rest, Ichigo," Rukia continues casually as she takes them by a shop full of televisions. Ichigo passes his gaze over to the news anchor.

"A fourth victim of the notorious serial killer, Grand Fisher, has been discovered earlier today in the Kitakawase District of Karakura Town. The Karakura Police Department has now called for a curfew from 6:00 in the evening to 5:00 in the morning. Everyone under the age of 20 must be inside during–"

"That won't do anything." Ichigo scoffs and faces away from the window full of televisions, letting Rukia pull him away. They did that last time too. It did nothing. Absolutely–

"'scuse me..." A scratchy voice calls out from the alley before coughing wetly. Rukia stops in her startled alarm from the sudden voice.

"–police has released a statement that new DNA has been found at the scene of–"

Ichigo turns his head at the same time as Rukia. They watch as a man limps out of the alley, clearly injured and unwell.

"...I apologize for bothering you two... but I can't seem to... gather my bearings..." The man speaks in a slurred speech.

He was in the last stage of balding, a few thick strands of black hair still hanging on to the back of his head. He had a large figure, but had the posture of just an average man.

"–police advise college and high school students to avoid the parks and forests at night."

"Do... either of you know... where I can find the... hospital?" The man asks slowly as if his brain was struggling to form the words.

"...just follow the Karasu River down towards the train station... that way," Ichigo answers eventually, pointing down the way Rukia was leading him towards.

"Ichigo," He almost misses Rukia's whisper, "what's wrong? You're hurting my hand."

Ichigo looks down and finally notices the death grip he had on the raven haired teenager's hand. He quickly releases his hold, staring at his shaking hand. The lava hot burning in his throat and his chest being squeezed like a grape is noticed next.

"Thank you... so much... boy."

Everything glitches to a stop. Ichigo wants to claw at his own skin, it itches so badly. He wants to claw out his own searing lungs, it hurt so horribly. He wants to claw out his own throat, it burned so horrifically.

"Thank you so much... boy."

A scream–it was his own? No. Yes. No. Yes. No? Where–and red. Red–everywhere. Mama's blood was everywhere. Everything, everything was covered in it–everywhere. It stained his hands–no matter how many times he washed his hands, it didn't come off. No matter how many times he clawed his own skin off–and it stained his face. It was cold. Freezing. He was–dead. That must be why he's freezing. Mama's not dead. He is. He has to be. Mama can't die. She can't. Not because of him. Not because–freezing.

"So... you recognize me... boy," The man speaks, more coherent and more sinister than how he appears.

Ichigo slowly looks up, lungs struggling to work. "Y-you–"

BANG

Something gleams in the bright lights of the shops around them. A scream pierces Ichigo's ears while something warm, burning hot, presses against his shoulder.

"ICHIGO!" Rukia's screech brings Ichigo back into reality. He stumbles back as the pain comes next, searing through his shoulder.

"It's time to pay up, boy." Ichigo watches as Grand Fisher slams the butt of his gun against Rukia's temple. "Hope you don't mind me bringing along your girlie. A bonus for what you've done to me."

Red eyes of sadistic fury and psychotic glee is all Ichigo sees before the gun is slammed against his own temple. He crumbles to the ground, collapsing next to Rukia.

A sense of floating is something Ichigo was used to. Yet, his back ached as if something hard was pressed against it and the air felt stagnant, almost thin.

Everything was heavy, like a weight. Even his own eyelids. Weirdly enough, it felt comfortable. And tight. Like he was shoved in a tight space. It was unnerving.

"...Ichigo..." Something soft brushes against his hollow cheeks. Ichigo leans into the familiar touch.

A phantom shock against his forehead makes his entire body twitch. Something rough, almost wooden, scratches against his hands.

"My beastie... it's time for you to wake up..." The air was getting thinner. Ichigo couldn't breathe. At all.

"...dreams can't come true if you just dream of them. Wake up and make those beautiful dreams of yours a reality, my beastie."

Ichigo coughs loudly, pressing his fists into the floor, the wood, beneath him. His knee raises and slams into something hard above him. It makes dirt fall onto his face.

"My beautiful monster. It's time to wake up and live."

Ichigo's eyes snap open, instinctively punching out both hands in front of him. More dirt falls on his face as his knuckles slam into wood. He wheezes for breath as his hands scrabble for anything in the pitch black darkness.

A cry leaves his throat unbidden when he stretches his arm above him. His shoulder sears in mind-numbing pain and makes his eyes tear up. His hand slams into another hard surface above his head.

"What–what–where–where am I? Where's–Rukia, where is she? Where–" Grand Fisher. The gunshot. They were knocked out by Grand Fisher. Rukia... Rukia wasn't here. He has to find Rukia.

Ichigo bangs against the surface above him. It barely budges as dirt falls into his mouth. Is he–is he buried alive?! He can't–that's not Grand Fisher's M.O.

Grand Fisher–he was the one to kill his mother–murdered her so brutally. Her death wasn't his M.O. either. Then why–why–

Ichigo punches the wooden surface, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and the scrapes on his hands. He continues to punch, he continues to kick, he continues to do anything to get out of his coffin.

"Not again. Not again. Mama–Mama, help me save her. I can't let her die. She can't die because of me too." Tears mix with the dirt and blood covering his face. He feels the warm blood drip down his wrist from his knuckles as he continues to punch at the wood. It finally bends beneath his fist, causing a waterfall of dirt to fall onto his chest.

He claws at the split wood with his fingers, ripping it apart like a ribcage of an animal. Dirt falls into his mouth as he continues to claw and punch. He clenches his eyes shut as more dirt falls and his nails are ripped off his fingers.

The wood continues to split away, his hands reaching out. He kicks up, breaking the wood even more. He has to get out. He has to find Rukia. He has to–

The coffin breaks away enough for him to start crawling out. The dirt feels like a constant boulder resting on his chest. He claws at the loose dirt, slowly but surely climbing out of the coffin.

His bloody fingers snag on dead roots and rocks as he kicks up. He continues to crawl out, heaving up dirt and bile.

A hand snags onto some type of wire, scraping against something almost too thick to push through. He uses the wire to pull himself up, forcing his way through the thick substance above him.

"Rukia. Rukia, I'm coming. I'm coming. He's not going to kill you. That monster won't hurt you," Ichigo thinks as a form of prayer. He feels sticky and cold air touching his hand when it pierces through whatever he was clawing himself out of. Ichigo claws at the open ground and continues to crawl out. The wire catches around his neck as his head finally pierces through.

A deep, wet gasp is the first thing his lungs do as he pushes up his other hand. He coughs loudly, furiously scratching away whatever substance was covering his face and blinding him, searing a white hot pain in his eyes. His eyes snap open, barely able to register anything, while he crawls out of the hole he was buried in.

His hands glide through the wet cement, snagging onto the wire mesh. He was buried beneath settling concrete. That mother–

Ichigo coughs up more dirt and bile, resting against the floor with his feet still stuck in the ground. He's out. He survived. He's alive. His eyes flutter close in relief as he rests his head against the wet cement.

"Ru–kia. Ru–" Ichigo mutters under his labored breath. He forces his shaking, burning hands to work. He needs to find Rukia. He needs to find her now.

He hurt Rukia.

I'm going to make him suffer.

I'm going to rip his heart out and force it down his throat.

He hurt Rukia. He killed Mama.

I'm going to kill him. I will kill him.

Ichigo snarls loudly and slowly manages to stand up. He ignores his partial blindness and his itching skin. He ignores the throbbing pain in his shoulder and the broken fingernails.

"Rukia?! Ru–Rukia!" Ichigo shouts as loud as he could, stumbling through the cement. "RUKIA!"

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him!

Make him pay. He needs to pay.

Rukia. Yuzu. Karin. Mama.

Mama.

Ichigo slams his whole body into the wall, finally out of the wet cement. He wipes away the cement still falling into his eyes as he starts to run up the stairs.

He couldn't hear anything through the heartbeat pounding in his ears. He couldn't see anything except red. He couldn't feel anything. Absolutely nothing.

"RUKIA!" Ichigo screams at the top of his lungs, almost toppling over the rusting railing. His voice echoes throughout the entire stairwell.

"–ch–" Something cuts off before a true sound can be heard in the echo. Ichigo starts sprinting up the stairs. He knows that it was Rukia. It has to be. He won't accept anything or anyone else.

"RUKIA!" Ichigo screams again.

"ICHIGO–" A shrill scream answers back, making him stumble to a stop. He looks up at the stairwell, despite being partially blind at the moment.

His heartbeat sounds like a war drum in his ears. His hand clenches around the metal railing, almost leaving a dent in it from how hard his death grip was. His lungs scream for air that leaves too fast to ease them.

Ichigo doesn't remember how fast he ran that day. He doesn't remember finding Grand Fisher about to bludgeon Rukia to death on the stairwell, the switchblade Rukia always keeps on her person stabbed through his eye. He doesn't remember tackling the monster off of his friend. He doesn't remember grabbing the pipe Grand Fisher was about to use, nor does he remember Rukia scrambling to restrain the monster. He doesn't remember verbally counting every hit to the monster's head, nor the screams that escaped his throat.

He doesn't remember himself bludgeoning the monster to death. He only remembers waking up to the broken pipe he held and the bloody slush covering his hands and body with Rukia holding down the corpse of Grand Fisher.

He only remembers staring down at what was meant to be the head of a notorious serial killer before tilting his head back. He only remembers the grin that had grown on his face and the hysterical laughter that escaped past the tears.

The sun glares through the shining windows of the office Ichigo sat in. He has half a mind to glare back, wishing he could squeeze the sun into mush. Death by migraine caused by the sun wasn't really a way Ichigo wanted to go out by.

His exhausted eyes glanced around the beautifully boring office for the fourth time that day. They pause at the analog clock behind the desk he sat in front of before he continues to inspect.

3:27 P.M. The bastard that called for the meeting was late by seven minutes. If he doesn't show up in the next three, Ichigo might actually leave. Even when he desperately needs the money from this commission.

"–ood morning, Hirako-san. Kurosaki Ichigo-san is waiting inside." Ichigo's ears picked up on the muffled voice of the secretary that had let him into the office.

"Who?" Another voice speaks, almost careless enough to make Ichigo laugh. His eyebrow twitches instead.

The door is opened and a set of footsteps walk in. Ichigo turns around to glare at the man who came in late.

He was tall and lanky with blonde hair styled in a straight cut down to his jaw, brown eyes, and tan skin. He wore white slacks, a black button up, and a white tie.

"The money for this damn commission of yours better be good, or I'm leaving," Ichigo states unprompted and highly unamused.

"Ah. The artist," The man speaks casually as if him being late was totally fine.

"Yes. The artist that wasted 27 minutes sitting in an office with horrible decoration," Ichigo snarks back.

The man smiles with his teeth, clearly amused. "No wonder Kuchiki visibly spat yar name outta his mouth when I asked for any recommendations."

"Well, I'd probably be nice like I am to Byakuya if I wasn't stuck waiting on a bastard who forgot about the meeting they scheduled." Ichigo faces forward with a scowl and his arms crossed. "If you aren't gonna get on with it, then I'm leaving."

"Hirako Shinji. Head of the Seireitei City Communications Department," The man introduces himself as he walks towards his desk.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," Ichigo begrudgingly greets back, not wanting to be a total asshole. Even though this entire day feels like a waste of time.

Hey! Hope you all like the new chapter! I'm sorry for not updating last week. It was really busy at my job and I was so tired, that I needed to take a small break.

Updates may or may not be sporadic from here on out, but I'm going to try to keep a semi-regular schedule.

I hope you all are enjoying the story so far! Bye.

WhovianWhoudini