(To celebrate the news that the Bleach anime will be returning to complete the Thousand Year Blood War Arc, I'm gonna be a nice host and uploaded an extra chapter this week! Don't get used to it though, back to once a week after this ;D )
Chapter Eight:
Ichigo stared at the paperwork in his hands, a file of documents, listing the details of Aizen's experiments, on the very last page were his own details, his own picture, and a scattering of information.
His hands were shaking, "This... This proves nothing, you could have forged it yourself..." He whispered.
"That is true, I could have," Byakuya agreed, hand still resting firmly on the hilt of his sword, "But could I have forged this?"
The noble's free hand disappeared inside his shihakusho once more and produced a slightly crumpled, folded piece of paper. Ichigo snatched it from his hands and tore it open, eyes scanning what appeared to be a newspaper article from the World of the Living.
'Four dead, one missing in gruesome murder'
Ichigo's stomach did a flip at the headline before his gaze skimmed lower down the page.
'Horrific and brutal murder at the Kurosaki Clinic in Karakura town occurred last Thursday evening, reports currently showing the confirmed deaths of Isshin Kurosaki (46), Masaki Kurosaki (44), Karin Kurosaki (6) and Yuzu Kurosaki (6). So far there has been no news as to the whereabouts of Ichigo Kurosaki (10) who is still missing.'
Ichigo was sure he was going to be sick, his head was spinning and his knees were shaking as he looked at the family photo included in the article, sure enough, he could identify his own face among the family of five.
Breathing became difficult as he swayed on the spot, his hands shaking even worse than before, his eyes were wide and fixed on the other faces in the photo, he had no memory of them, of any of them. Not the proud, grinning face of Isshin, nor the contented, happy face of Masaki, nor the adorably excitable face of Yuzu, nor the vaguely annoyed face of Karin. He didn't know these people. And yet there he was, among them, one of them, a smiling; lively Ichigo he barely recognised.
"Before we went to the World of the Living, I spent weeks researching your name in the Seireitei Archives, trying to find out what had happened to you to make you so devoid of emotion," Byakuya said softly, watching Ichigo carefully, "I couldn't find a thing. You didn't exist."
"D-Didn't... Exist?" Ichigo's eyes didn't move from the article, but at least he was listening.
"The Archives list every soul that has ever entered Seireitei, whether by the konso performed on lost souls, cleansing of Hollows, or trespassing Ryoka... There are millions of souls listed there, and you have never been listed among them. It is as if you simply... Appeared from no where." The Taichou stated.
The Third Seat very slowly lifted his gaze, fixing his eyes on Byakuya. The Taichou was shocked to see tears swimming in those chestnut eyes, real tears.
"How is that possible?" The strawberry asked.
"I couldn't work out the answer myself, not until Aizen told me to search in Karakura town, I was reluctant to trust him. I couldn't understand why he'd give me a hint... But regardless, I had to know the truth." The man's grasp finally left his blade, "That article was the only one written about what happened to the Kurosaki family, there were never any updates, never any follow ups... It was almost as if it was forgotten about completely. To be frank, the reason I couldn't find a record of your soul in the Archives... Is because you never died."
"What?!" Ichigo took a step back, he had a splitting headache, "Never... Never died? That's impossible!"
"I thought so to, until I contacted an old acquaintance who resides in Karakura and he confirmed the only theory I had." Byakuya took a breath, "There is a type of Senkaimon, called a Resishi Henkan-Ki, which has the ability to convert World of the Living particles, into reishi. It is my belief, that your family were murdered by Aizen as the result of one of his experiments, and that by chance you were the only one who survived it, he brought you to Soul Society through the Resishi Henkan-Ki to convert your living matter into soul matter."
Ichigo let out a shaky gasp, the article slipping from his grasp and being caught by the breeze, carried off the cliff and into the forest below, his knees finally gave out and he landed with the thud on the dirt, sat back on his haunches as he shook. He brought one quaking hand to his face as he felt the unfamiliar sensation of something running down his cheek, and gently wiped the tear away, staring at the salt liquid on his finger tips.
He felt so incredibly alone. He didn't want to believe what he was being told, he didn't want to understand what was being said, but his heart was screaming out for him to listen, screaming out for him to accept it. To finally realise the missing piece of his own being. To realise who he was.
"I... Had a family... A mother, a father... Sisters..." Ichigo breathed, staring ahead blankly, "How could I have forgotten them... For so long..."
Byakuya felt his heart breaking for the other man, despite whatever he might have done for Aizen, no matter how many he had killed for him, this was a deception that ran soul deep and beyond. A web of deceit so intricate that the truth was almost worse than the lie. He walked closer and knelt in front of Ichigo, searching his eyes, concern filling his own.
"I believe... The trauma of what you went through that night was so great that... The only way you could survive it was for your mind to fracture, to block out the horror of what you'd witnessed..." He said quietly, reaching out carefully and cupping his face with a gently hand, "You were a child, Ichigo, your mind wasn't equipped to handle something it like an adult mind would..."
The young Third Seat flinched at the gentle contact, clearly not used to such tenderness; he stared at his Taichou, eyes wide and strangely innocent given the nature of their conversation. His throat was tight and his chest burned, he opened his mouth to try and speak, but when words failed him he was forced to close it again and gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as his shoulders began to shake with the effort to contain the torrent of tears trying to escape him.
He hadn't cried since the loss of his memories, it wasn't something he felt required to do, seeing as he rarely felt stress or any other emotion that would trigger such a primal response. Yet here he was, despite still feeling nothing, these tears were rolling free against his will.
Weakness wasn't something he was programmed to show or surrender to.
Ichigo froze suddenly, his body ceasing all involuntary movement as his mind replayed his own thoughts. How right was he? Programmed? He really had been programmed... From the very moment he'd woken in the forest below it had all been little more than a game, a test, an experiment. Everything he'd experienced, everything he'd gone through, everything he had done... Was all part of one big research project.
And who was at the head of this project? Who had turned him into this... Unfeeling, unemotional, guiltless assassin?
"Aizen..." He growled suddenly, eyes opening in a flash, pure unhindered rage flaming free in his chestnut orbs, rising slowly to his feet, "Aizen... Did this... To me..."
Byakuya let out a choked gasp as he was crushed under the magnitude of Ichigo's reiatsu as it was released in an explosive blast, forcing him to crumple, pressing his hands into the dirt as a sweat broke out over his face. His eyes widened at the sensation, not having been so utterly crushed by reiatsu since his own childhood!
The noble flinched suddenly, entwined deeply within that impossibly powerful mass was something else, something darker, something twisted, something he had never expected, not even in all his theories.
He had to fight to lift his head, body shaking from the effort it took, his face paled as he saw Ichigo's face and he felt a true and honest tremble of fear run through him. Now he understood. Now... Now he could see it in all its horrific glory.
He had come to enjoy looking into Ichigo's eyes, molten chestnut globes that swirled with seductive temperance and called to him, deep inside his soul and threatened to draw him closer on so many occasions. Even while devoid of emotion, Ichigo's eyes were truly beautiful.
Aizen hadn't staked a claim to Ichigo because of his appearance.
Aizen hadn't staked a claim to Ichigo because he was devoid of emotion.
But not anymore.
Black sclera acted as the canvas for vibrant displays of liquid gold, a manic contortion on the young man's face made him seem delirious or maddened, but the white foam which was now oozing like tar from his eye sockets, nose and mouth only heightened the sense of danger that accompanied his overpowering reiatsu.
Aizen... Aizen had staked a claim to Ichigo because... He was a Hollow!
Without warning and with a speed even he couldn't follow, the huge blade of Ichigo's Zanpakutō was tearing into his shoulder, gouging through his flesh with startling ease; Byakuya released a howl of pain, his eyes clouding over momentarily from the searing heat which bloomed throughout his body.
He had never encountered someone with such raw, inhibited instinct. The instinct of a supremely trained killing machine... A Shinigami with the strength of a Hollow and the intelligence of a member of the Goeti Thirteen.
The Kuchiki heir threw himself to the side as Ichigo attacked again, the monumental pressure of his power was still bearing down heavily, but another blow would have left him dead. Byakuya could see that Ichigo could no longer recognise who he was, where he was... He was utterly blind to anything but the anger flowing through his veins.
Byakuya's eyes widened slightly as Aizen's words echoed in his mind like a wildfire: "I believe even he would disobey me if I ordered him to kill you, in his current state at least."
Was this what Aizen had been referring to? Did the man know what he had created within the young Shinigami?
Byakuya's eyes narrowed to mere slits, what was he thinking? Of course Aizen knew. And in turn, the noble was more than aware that if Ichigo were to kill him, or any of his friends, the guilt would eventually consume him and he would become, in full, exactly what Aizen desired him to be.
A split second decision was not something the noble was not accustom to making, nor something which filled him with a great deal of comfort, and yet, as he finally stumbled to his feet and drew his Zanpakutō, "Scatter, Senbonzakura."
Denumerable numbers of blossoms flooded over the cliff and fell upon the strawberry haired male like water on rock, Byakuya allowed a hand to rest on his tattered shoulder, wincing at the slick feeling of his blood under his fingertips. The wound was deep, it had snagged the tendons that controlled the arm, and it now hung limply at his side. This would take some time to heal from, if he even escaped the conflict at all.
He had never once questioned his ability to win, not against anyone, and yet he now watched as Ichigo, even in his rampancy, was able to tackle some of the attacks of his Shikai, as if it was nothing. He could see intelligence in those simmering gold eyes, and he clenched his teeth as the corrupted youth began making his way closer and closer.
Ichigo wasn't relenting as he should have, the cuts; the slices; the unbreakable weave of blades plundering themselves against his body should have rendered him unable to move, at worst, he should have already been dead. And yet, the pain and the damage was barely registering, besides making the youth more and more furious. In fact, the wounds appeared to heal almost instantly.
That was right, of course, Ichigo had once boasted about his unusually superior healing, and yet this was on another level entirely. Instant regeneration. An ability of a Hollow.
"Have you fallen... So far Ichigo?" He hissed, forcing himself to stand straight despite the still crushing levels of reiatsu around him, sweat was rolling down his cheeks as if it was raining, his chest was tight and his breathing ragged, his expression darkening, "Then I suppose I have no choice, I will have to-"
He broke off and stared, for the first time recognising that the white foam seeping from Ichigo was curving and curling around his face, hardening slowly and transforming into a mask. The noble frowned deeply. Usually Hollow masks were the very last thing to form, and yet in this instance it was the first; there was no signs of a Hollow hole in the man's chest yet; and his reiatsu was not completely Hollowfied. By the Soul King, what was Ichigo Kurosaki?
Steel eyes shot wide as the masked menace appeared from the mash of petals, sword raised high above his head, arching down towards Byakuya, the intent to kill rippling from his very aura like a tidal surge. The Taichou swept his one good arm around and managed to block the blade with a thick ribbon of petals.
With a swift burst of Shunpo, the noble lifted his hand, pressing his fingertips against Ichigo's shoulder, voice low with regret, "Hadō 4: Byakurai."
He watched regretfully as Ichigo was thrown forwards by the force of the Kidō, a hole remaining in his shoulder from the energy which had been blasted through his body, "Sprinkled on bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring! Move and become the wind, stop and become the calm! The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Hado 63: Raikōhō!"
Forced to his knees by his own Kidō, the noble panted hard, shielding his eyes as the clifftop was illuminated with yellow electricity, he raised his head carefully, looking around for his orange haired subordinate.
The Kuchiki heir expression fell swiftly, and he gulped back the lump in his throat as he pushed himself into a standing position, turning slowly, oh so slowly, his lips parting to release a shaking breath as he came face to face with the fully formed Hollow mask concealing Ichigo's face from him, two tremendous horns almost tickling his cheeks as he was forced to witness the Hollowfying foam which now continued to descend, encasing the Shinigami in the tomb of a Hollow's body.
Byakuya's eyes flicked back up to Ichigo's golden ones, sclera so utterly black like a backdrop to make the irises even brighter, there was nothing there he recognised, nothing he could reach out to. He forced himself to stand straight, by his pride as the head of the Kuchiki household, he would not die while slumped over, he would face it head on as he did with everything else in his life.
The mouthpiece of the Hollow mask cracked and opened, moving as if trying to speak and yet releasing no sound; Ichigo's body stiffened and with no warning the foam which currently reached mid-way down his chest and back began to solidify far faster than it should have done, fluctuating unstably before spearing outwards like an angered Blowfish.
A deafening Hollow roar escaped the creature, and Byakuya was forced to duck as his subordinate's sword arm flew upwards, the hilt of the blade snapping up between the eyes. Byakuya's mouth fell open in surprise and he took a step back, watching as the foam began to ripple and crack along his chest and arms, shattering within a second of the change.
Ichigo seemed frozen on the spot, only his cracked mask remaining in place as his reiatsu dropping dramatically back to its normal limits, Zanpakutō tumbling from prone fingers and sticking softly into the ground between his feet.
The noble withdrew his Shikai, sheathing his own sword carefully as he took tentative steps towards the paralysed male, being extraordinarily cautious of those still sharp horns, he reached up with one hand, digging his nails into the groove created between his subordinate's eyes. Sucking in a faintly terrified breath, he pulled as hard as his remaining might would permit, ripping the mask free and flinching as it too shattered.
Ichigo's warm chestnut gaze was back, but they were blank; eyes half rolled up into his skull as his legs gave out, body dropping like a heavy sack towards the blood stained floor. His Taichou caught him deftly, head cradled in his lap as the noble checked him for wounds.
He groaned as his shoulder struggled under the strain of Ichigo's unconscious state, the nobleman was losing blood at an alarming rate in the wake of their fight, and yet he made no attempt to move, knowing it was futile, he could do nothing with only one working arm.
Gritting his teeth, Byakuya Kuchiki found himself shaking, "You... Idiot..." He breathed, "Letting go of yourself like that! Attacking your own Taichou! When you wake up from this... I will simply have to punish you for it... And for making me feel something as pathetic... As fear..."
Not a single tear had escaped him since childhood. Not even when Hisana had passed away, had he allowed himself such a relief as crying for her soul, for she had been at peace, and he had been in turmoil. The only way to survive that loss had been to seal his heart away even tighter than before. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to shed a single tear, as much as his heart was ripping itself apart.
"Who... Does Sōsuke Aizen think he is... To have wrought this upon you?" He whispered, shaking fingers slowly crept out across Ichigo's cold cheek, leaning over him slowly and allowing their foreheads to rest together, "On my pride... As the Kuchiki heir... I am going to save you from him, and even if it takes me one hundred years... I will find a way to put you back together again, Ichigo... I swear it!"
The hair on the noble's arms stood on end abruptly as he sensed a new presence behind him; fearing Aizen had come to collect what was his, his hand fell on his Zanpakutō once more, twisting on the spot to bring an end to that miserable wretch.
His breath caught in his throat as he saw someone rather different watching him.
"What an unlikely day today must be... To see two things I had never expected." He gulped, closing his eyes as the pain in his shoulder finally overwhelmed him, and his blade clattered to the floor as he collapsed beside Ichigo, unconsciousness swallowing him whole.
