Chapter Twenty Three:
"You will not touch my son!" Isshin moved, putting himself between where Aizen was stood and where his wife and son were.
"I shouldn't be surprised really..." Aizen murmured, "It seems perfectly reasonable that any child of yours would be immensely powerful, especially given your choice of wife."
"Get out of my house!" The former Taichou barked.
Byakuya panted sharply, finding himself in the middle of the conflict, he quickly scuttled away from Aizen's feet, movements jerky and a little out of sorts as he came to terms with the plunge he'd been thrown into. His head was still throbbing from all the movements and colours, his stomach aching, willing him to be sick again. Steel eyes moved towards the small boy, now around the age of ten if his height was anything to go by.
Ichigo was clinging to his mother's side, his gaze drawn as his two little sisters stumbled into the room, clearly curious about what was going on. Shouting was such a rare occurrence in the house.
Aizen's eyes followed and a calculating smile appeared on his face, "Huh, not one but three? You have been busy."
"GET OUT!"
"No." It was a simple answer for sure, but it held all the pressure of a tsunami behind it.
Hand emerging from his pocket, Aizen held up a small spherical ball of glimmering, swirling light. Apparently a reflex, Masaki grabbed her husband's arm and pulled him towards her, forcing him behind her body despite his struggling yells and refusals.
Spears of illumination shot out suddenly in all directions, cutting through furniture and walls like they were nothing; Ichigo let out a yell as he watched one shoot straight towards his mother and he flung himself forwards, putting his own body in the way to protect her. He seemed to arch, bend and wobble as it struck him in the chest.
Byakuya watched in horror as the child hit the floor like a dead weight, writhing and thrashing while strangled, gargled noises of pain escaped his aghast mouth.
"Ichigo!" Isshin's voice was frantic as he rolled his son onto his back, recoiling in horror at the sight of glistening gold irises staring back at him, "W-What... What... What have you done? What have you done to my son?! AIZEN!"
The brunet seemed surprised, staring a the orb in his palm, "How unexpected." Was his only comment before he was silenced by the explosion of reiatsu that seemed to cripple the boy on the floor.
An ear piercing scream was torn from Ichigo's lips, growing louder and more shrill as his skin paled, his own reiatsu was crushing him, killing him. Piling on top of him like a mountain, or an ocean.
The Kuchiki heir covered his mouth with his hand as he watched thick white foam leaking from Ichigo's nose and mouth, the boy's body arching off the floor at an impossible angle as his face was encapsulated in the fast hardening bone structure. His face was soon concealed completely by the pale mask, hornless but no less terrifying than Byakuya remembered. Plain red markings brushed the left side of the Hollow mask like a tribal pattern.
Aizen's eyes were dancing with pride at this accidental miracle, "Fascinating. Truly fascinating."
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Isshin roared, his hands shaking as they barely touched Ichigo's thrashing shoulders.
Aizen wasn't listening, his head was tilted to one side, calculating, planning, likely running through a hundred different scenarios, "Child... Attack."
Ichigo's body seemed to stiffen at the sound of his voice, bone covered face turning towards the source, head tilted like a puppy being given it's first lesson. A small sound of confusion escaped the mouth piece of the mask.
"I want you to attack." The brunet said again.
"Ichigo?" Isshin breathed, his voice breaking at the sight of what his son had become, "S-Son... Can you hear me?"
"Ichi?" Masaki was crying, she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her eldest child, embracing him tightly in the crippling hope that she could bring him back.
Byakuya barely realised that he had screamed as blood sprayed the room, his expression wide and horrified, paling as he watched talons cleaving through flesh and bone. There was no feeling. No recognition. Masaki fell to the ground first, Ichigo's fingers digging into her body like a wild animal, ripping and shredding before his attention was drawn by the sound of clinking metal.
Isshin had stripped his Gigai, Shinigami form drawing his Zanpakutō regretfully. Ichigo was fast. Faster than he should have been, he was a new born Hollow, he should have been sluggish, fragile, easy prey for a seasoned Taichou. And yet he was able to side step the Zanpakutō with ease, batting it aside with his bare hand as he lunged at his father.
Clawing. Gouging. Biting. Bending. Twisting. He didn't just mangle his father's Shinigami form, he mangled his Gigai too. He threw his victim to the floor and continued his insane rampage, attention drawn by the sound of screaming coming from the dining table. Karin and Yuzu were cowering together, the darker haired girl tried to protect her twin.
Ichigo's head moved left and right, assessing their threat level. But the hungry growl which escaped him suggested it no longer mattered at all. They weren't spared. By the time he had finished with them, they were unrecognisable. Almost in pieces.
Turning to glare across the room at Aizen, Ichigo pounced towards the man, the grating teeth of the mask ripping open as the Hollowfied child released a high pitched roar. But the moment he came within arms reach of the brunet, he calmed. Freezing like a stone statue, sitting down amidst the chaos with wide eyes.
"My goodness... You are perfection." Aizen's voice was quiet, the most tender Byakuya had ever heard it, "Such a surprise, and yet a pleasant one. You're strong, very strong. But there's room for growth. Rest now, there will come a time for you to rise up again but it is not now. I'll be patient, I can wait."
The brunet stepped back, watching as the Hollow mask seemed to crack on command. Thousands of tiny fragments of bone scattered among the blood and the gore. Ichigo slumped, fingers finding Masaki's cardigan as his eyes fluttered open. He was quiet, despite the drench of crimson covering him from head to toe, even now dripping down his face from his tufts of soaked hair. The peace was momentary, shattered in an instant as his mind seemed to reawaken and he screamed.
Byakuya's heart thundered in his chest, his hands were shaking at his side and he took a step back, his every instinct roared at him to run over and wrap his arms around Ichigo and tell him that everything would be alright. But Aizen got there first. Like he always did. And just like that, Ichigo was spirited away. Byakuya knew now, from his talks with Ichigo that Aizen had taken him to Soul Society. His Human body converted into reishi so that he could remain the firmly within Sōsuke Aizen's web.
It was no wonder Ichigo couldn't remember that night properly. If he ever regained those memories they would break him.
"I remember."
Byakuya flinched at the sudden rippling voice from beside him, eyes widening as he found himself looking at Ichigo. Except... It wasn't Ichigo. Fully grown yes, tall and proud yes, but... Bleached white from head to toe. His hair, his skin, his shihakusho. His sclera were black, irises golden. He was staring at the scene of carnage with a downturned expression, there was torment there. Regret.
"What... Do you mean?" He asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.
"I remember that night. I remember so much clearer than King does." The same watery, silvery voice escaped from between pale lips, revealing the point of his tongue as it flashed across his teeth, "He only remembers the blood and the bodies. Nothin' of the event. He nearly did... When he was trapped in Aizen-sama's quarters... He forced himself to remember, drove himself with the pain just like he was trained to... It was a close call, if I hadn't... Taken over a little he'd have seen it all... Fuckin' idiot. My King."
"This..." Byakuya gestured around the room, "This is why he lost his memories?"
"Yeah. His mind would never have coped with the truth, so I stole it from him, locked it away so far inside his head that he'd never find it. It... It was the only thing I could do to protect him from himself. But... It left him so isolated... He couldn't remember if he even had a family, he couldn't remember how to feel... I-I only wanted to protect him but I ended up takin' too much." The albino Ichigo's eyes flicked to Byakuya's face.
"Who are you?"
"I caused this." He snorted, nodding at the ghastly scene, "I am the power that Aizen-sama gave him... The power that corrupted him... I am his Hollow."
The raven haired man frowned, sensing grief in his voice, "You sound sad."
The Hollow walked into the room, slowly and carefully until he was stood beside Masaki, he crouched down and swept some of her hair away from her face, "I'm the reason his life went to shit. I murdered the most important person in his life... The centre of his fuckin' world. All because my master asked it of me."
"Aizen is not your master."
"He created me! Gave me life! Gave me meanin'! He gave me power! Compared to him... I'm just a dog and he's holdin' the leash. I can't refuse anythin' he asks of me for long... No matter how much I try to... His voice... His presence is too much, too strong, too definite." The Hollow barked.
Watching the mood swing, Byakuya resided himself to be cautious not to make it worse, he took a careful step forwards and rested a hand on the albino's shoulder, "You almost sound like you love him."
"I do." It was simple, reluctant, there was a pitiful undertone, "I hate myself for it. It's my affection for Aizen-sama that makes King so torn about him. He can't tell the difference between his feelin's and mine. I've always hungered for King's power, hungered to be the one in control... To the detriment of our life sometimes..."
"None of this is your fault."
"H-How can ya say that? Ya saw what I can do. Ya saw what King and I become... How can ya still care?" The albino frowned, staring at him as if trying to work out a puzzle.
"I love him." Byakuya breathed without a second thought.
He hadn't realised it at first. Yes, there had always been some kind of secret affection for Ichigo, from the moment that bundle of orange disobedience had stormed into his office with Renji at his side and made sure Rukia was looked after properly, he'd wanted Ichigo to join Division Six. They'd discussed it before. He wanted to help his growth but he also wanted the excuse of getting to know him better.
Aizen had gotten there first. Aizen always seemed to get there first. Always.
So he had buried his feelings. It have never stopped him noting how attractive Ichigo had grown to be after graduating from Shino, it hadn't stopped him sneaking stolen glances and wishing for more. But he'd been professional. Too professional.
But that moment Ichigo had protected him in Karakura town he had known the truth. Seeing his potential, only to see him so badly hurt he could lose him altogether. The reason he had been so hurt by Ichigo's betrayal of Soul Society was because he loved him. It was the very reason he'd laid his life on the line to try and save him. He had to see the good in him. Even if no one else did.
"And what of me? King and I can never be separated, we're one. Can ya accept me, as ya accepted him?"
The nobleman jolted at the Hollow's words, startled from his trip down memory lane. He stared for a long moment, could he? Could he accept the Hollow despite everything he'd done, everything he could do? As long as he was loyal to Aizen he would be a constant threat to Ichigo's progress. And yet that wasn't the Hollow's fault.
"You could have killed me in Fugai. You could have turned on me or Renji on Sôkyoku Hill. But you didn't. You stopped yourself. Or you allowed Ichigo to stop you. Why?"
"We... My emotions effect him. My feelin's effect him." The albino frowned deeply, pacing in small steps, "But the... The connection works both ways... His emotions, his feelin's... They effect me too... He loves ya."
"Does that mean you share his feelings towards me?" Byakuya asked.
"They ain't as strong, don't rule my head like they rule his but I can feel it. It's warm. Fuzzy. Sickenin' really." He grinned mischievously, "But I'm dangerous, I'm the most pure version of his instincts... None of ya are safe with me around."
"I am a Taichou, my life is rarely safe. If I desired safety I would never have begun investigating Aizen's treachery." He shrugged slightly, "Regardless, Hollow, I do not fear you. If you and Ichigo are truly one and the same then... How could I care for one of you without doing so for the other? I just want to help him. And you."
The Hollow stared at him, seeming surprised before he swallowed and looked away, snorting, "Fuckin' hell. King sure does pick 'em."
"Is that a compliment?" His lips twitched towards a smirk.
"T-Take it how ya want, ya smug prick." He spluttered, but his expression turned upwards into something reflecting the manic smile Byakuya had come to recognise whenever the Hollow took over Ichigo for any length of time, "Aizen-sama never named me... But... Over the years I named myself. Ya can call me Shiro."
The Kuchiki heir bowed his head politely, "Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you Shiro. I am Byakuya Kuchiki."
"Nice to meet ya too."
They had barely finished their formal introduction when the world shifted, the nightmare scene of the Kurosaki house disappearing, being replaced by the familiar sight of the Division Six training grounds. He groaned, staggering briefly while he adjusted to the new location, he wished he could settle in one place and be done with it.
The only relief he found was when he saw Shiro sprawled on the floor beside him, apparently perplexed about having been brought with him. Byakuya turned, and politely offered a hand to help the Hollow to his feet, offering a small smile before he assessed the new situation.
The clashing sound of swords drew his attention and he noticed two figures fighting within the smaller of the training rings. Flashes of red hair and pink blossoms made his eyebrows raise slightly, recognising his Fukutaichou and himself.
His own expression was as cold as ice, but twice as bitter. Movements ruthless, cutting, he wasn't training Renji because he saw potential in him, he was doing it because he had no choice. It was his duty to train his Fukutaichou. Renji's face was flushed, beads of sweat rolled down his brow. His eyes were narrowed with anger.
That look of loathing. Byakuya remembered it clearly. He had been vile to Renji, treated him like something he had trodden in, something foul and unpleasant. He'd treated him like vermin for no reason other than his common blood, fiery temper and his affection for Rukia. When Renji had joined Division Six as his Fukutaichou, having passed through Five and Eleven, it had been a bad time. And it had been all his fault, his treatment towards the redhead had been worse than appalling, it had been cold; calculating and cruel.
He had enjoyed treating him as if he was worth nothing. He had enjoyed humiliating him publicly in front of their subordinates, he had enjoyed belittling him and making sure the redhead never forgot that he had lost Rukia.
Swallowing, Byakuya realised he wasn't even sure why he had enjoyed hurting him so much, but he knew he regretted it. He regretted it so very much.
With a frown, the raven haired Shinigami found himself wondering if he had ever apologised. Had he ever apologised? Yes, they'd moved past it, found a way to communicate. He had come to respect the redhead, his fire and his wilfulness. But had he ever, ever said sorry?
Was this something Ichigo thought of often? He was sure the strawberry knew every inch of his treatment towards Renji. Was this a test? Did he have to acknowledge his past wrongs to progress further into Ichigo's Inner World? Was there some puzzle or clue he had to complete?
"Ya know, between the two of ya I really thought ya were the more emotionally stable one, I'm startin' to have doubts though. Ya get caught up just as deeply in ya own head as King does." Shiro's voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.
"My apologies, I allowed my mind to wander. How do we progress from here? Surely you know the way to the heart of Ichigo's Inner World?" He glanced at the albino.
"Yeah, I know the way, gettin' there is another matter though. Ichigo's shut down, there ain't a way in that I know of." The Hollow shrugged, "Ya were an asshole to the pineapple right?"
Frowning faintly, the noble quickly realised the pineapple was meant to be Renji and he sighed, "Yes, I was. What of it?"
"Well, I think he wants pay back." A long pale finger pointed towards the ring.
Byakuya's eyes snapped around, widening sharply as he watched the extending blade of Zabimaru flying towards him. His fingers darted to his side, ready to draw Senbonzakura to defend himself but clutched at thin air. For the first time, he realised his Zanpakutō wasn't with him.
Lunging to the side, he heard the impact of the blade against the concrete and winced as he was showered with debris. Rolling and bouncing out of the way of subsequent attacks, he couldn't help but notice his own double had disappeared. Was this the test? Did he have to defeat Renji? It would be no issue with Senbonzakura at his side, and while he was sure he could defeat him with Kidō alone it would be more-
Blood splashed his face and he staggered, vision blurring for a split second as his brain caught up with his body's reaction. One of the jagged segments of Zabimaru was buried in his shoulder. Gasping through the pain, steel eyes flashed up to meet burning brown ones. In all their sessions together, Renji had never landed a solid hit on him. But this wasn't Renji. It merely wore his face. This was a protective barrier between himself and Ichigo. It would have whatever strength it needed to defend its host, and repel intruders.
"It appears you have me at a small disadvantage." He breathed, tearing the blade free from his skin.
"Only a small one?" The false Renji smirked at him, withdrawing the extending blade with a flick of his wrist, hefting the sword over his shoulder, "Good to see the famous Kuchiki arrogance is just as prominent in here as it is in the real world."
Tutting, Byakuya lifted a hand, "Bakudō 9: Hōrin!" Using his index and middle fingers, he fired a tendril of orange hued energy. The Kidō spiralled in vast yellow patterns, ensnaring the redhead within it's web. He watched smugly as his foe was immobilised.
"Huh, pretty good." Shiro murmured as he came to stand beside him, checking the wound on his shoulder carefully, "It's kinda pathetic really... I mean this is meant to protect King... Come on."
"I won't be lectured by an underdog like you." Renji's voice snarled, saliva spraying the sand.
"Underdog?!" The Hollow snapped.
Byakuya felt a surge in Renji's reiatsu, his eyes widening as it momentarily became visible in deep shades of scarlet. He felt his breath stutter, chest tightening as he realised what was happening. But how was it possible? Renji had never said... Never suggested... But of course Ichigo would know, Ichigo would even in his period of emotionless apathy had been closer to Renji than anyone else. He, Byakuya Kuchiki, had been blind.
"BANKAI!" Renji roared, fingers clenched around the hilt of his Zanpakutō.
