A/N: Drabbles are quick...and im lazy. Isnt thaty a wonderful poem no? Im kidding!
Title: Eternal Struggle
Pairings/Characters: Ichigo and Hollow Side Centric. Tiny RukiaxIchigo
Rating: PG
Genre: Dark?
Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach
Words: 508
Number: #6
Winds whipped back his cape like a fierce tornado. The glow in his eyes betrayed his youthful mindset, capturing those that looked into them in an abyss of confusion. In one hand the Zanpakutou was gripped tightly, like a lifeline, and slung over his shoulder. Radiating the fierce determination like a poison from the owner's body.
In the other a hand clenched fiercely at his side, shaking from an unknown…uncontrollable rage. Unlocking his powers was the first step, controlling them was the second. In the stage of equivalent exchange one must give up something for another. Ichigo learned this, closing his eyes briefly after he had surveyed the giant firebird in front of him.
He could feel the unleashed being inside of him, throb like a wound and ache like a burn. It seeped out of every part of his body, became one with him, and sometimes tried to take him over, grasping his mind and fighting back, fighting for control. He fought back though, reaching out with all the strength he could, and shoved it back only able to face forward---never back.
A small flame reached his skin, incinerating upon contact. Spirit power washed over him, refresh and at the same time, made him feel sick. Something rejoiced in his mixed views---he got the power to protect, the power to defend, the power to do right and good. But what had he lost?
He reaches up with his controlled hand, with his Zanpakutou catching the brunt of the fires and stares ahead, eyes glowing brighter. He considers it, even when the majestic bird meets its downfall without him having even put effort into a single swing. He intakes short breaths, unable to gaze down at where Rukia---no doubt she looks up, waiting for him. Waiting for a smart-ass remark. Approval that he is not a dream and just as real as the captains below.
He swallows hard, a trickle of sweat rolls down his face. But in a blink it's gone.
'I've lost myself.' He admits quietly. Knowing that the being is slowly gaining control, he knows what it is—vaguely, but ignores it in favor of facing ahead, on a road unknown with challenges awaiting.
Slowly he drops his head down, meeting the woman's gaze---the one that changed his life for better and for worse. Unable to hide the smile that lifts upon his face. Her being gives him hope and gives him strength.
Rukia is where his humanity lies. And the smallest reminder leaves him at ease. Giving a light chuckle, quiet and only heard by himself he gives a cocky expression. Masking all uncertainties and unease.
"Yo' Rukia."
And faces hell on his own.
With a mask in white and red laughing back at him with golden predator eyes.
Continuing the endless struggle, which will determine his fall or succession.