Chapter Forty Two:

Ichigo sucked in a shaky breath, finally slowing to a stop, his back hitting the wall as he slid down, crouching uncomfortably as his emotions caught up with him. He stared across the corridor, and felt his chest tighten as guilt bubbled to the surface amidst the melancholic calm he'd been washed with, after his fight with Dordoni.

He'd tried so hard to be a better person, to break away from all the bad things he had done while under Aizen's command. And yet in a fleeting moment it had all come back, Dordoni hadn't been a threat, he'd been badly injured by the final attack... He didn't need to kill him the way he had. He didn't need to be so... Hollow.

"It's this place... This air... These walls..." He groaned out, and ran his fingers through his hair.

As Ichigo forced himself to stand, his heart quivered with regret and a growing sense of dread. The only thing spurring him on was knowing that Byakuya was somewhere inside the winding chaos of corridors and stairwells. If he could just see him, speak to him... Confirm he was unharmed everything would settle back into place. It had to.

He started walking, following the twisting path for only a matter of seconds when his body jolted and the world seemed to stop. He felt a radiating pulse leave his body, sweeping far away from his location. Puzzled as he was, his form soon jerked when his senses tingled in reaction to the multiple presences of powerful reiatsu swelling within the palace walls.

Renji. Rukia. Orihime. Ishida. Chad. He could feel them... No! He could see them. Little brightly burning blue flames flickering amidst the swirling darkness.

Renji was wounded, badly. His flame was dancing wildly in a panicked, fluttering turmoil. That stark Rukongai upbringing refusing to let him fade and die. Rukia was hurt too, but her flame burned victoriously in the wake of battle, she'd defeated her foe and was moving forwards again. Orihime and Ishida were side by side, the Quincy's flame was tall and proud much like the man it belonged to, while Orihime's was smaller and timid, yet there was something within it, a determination he'd never seen from her before. She was growing braver, stronger, bolder. Chad's flame was bigger than the other's, probably a reflection of his own being. There was something distinctively not wholly Human about it, but it was powerful.

But the Espada... They were unbelievably mighty. Compared to his friends their flames were enormous, bulging, white hot suns. He could recognise some of them. He could see Grimmjow, feral flame flickering back and forth in a flurry of hyper activity; Nnoitra, his flame was tall and gangly just like his body, but it was sharp and biting and violent too; Ulquiorra, his flame was bland and unshaped by his personality, just as empty as he was. There was a fourth Espada moving near to the other three, but he didn't know them.

He sucked in a breath, realising with horror that the four Espada were travelling at great speed towards his friends. They were going to capture them, or worse kill them! He knew he couldn't reach them in time to help. His only hope was to carry on alone. If he found Byakuya they could work together to free the others.

Staggering as the sensation and sight faded without warning, Ichigo tasted bile on his tongue, covering his mouth to stop himself being sick, "What was that?" He gasped.

"Pesquisa."

The singing voices rattling around in his skull answered at the same time, the echo was deafening and he found himself wincing; holding his head and scowling as he started moving again. It sounded nothing like Shiro, it was the same high pitched tone from before, the siren call. That tempting, inviting suction trying to draw the darkness out.

Pesquisa was a Hollow ability. He was sure Gin had mentioned it once in a passing conversation while they'd waiting for Aizen to arrive for one of their meetings. Why had he been talking about it? He couldn't remember. What was it, that he had said? What was it?

"It's like an pulse of energy that they send out, it reacts with reiatsu. I guess it let's 'em see people and gauge how powerful an enemy is. Whether or not they're worth attackin'. No one wants to get stuck against a small fry, ya know?"

That was it. Tensing, Ichigo felt a swell of stress rising to the surface, Shiro's silence was more troubling than ever. He needed that damned Hollow to answer his questions. Why had he been able to use Pesquisa? He had never been able to sense reiatsu unless it belonged to someone he was utterly familiar with, like Renji or Rukia, or unless he was straining so hard that he became blind to everything else, like the time he'd broken into Byakuya's office.

A soft breath escaped him. It was most likely because Shiro was still being drawn to the surface, he knew that, he just wanted confirmation. But in the end, it didn't really matter. Those Espada were heading towards his friends, and they had no idea they were in danger! He had to find Byakuya and rescue them before it was too late.

He turned and ran, leaping randomly into intervals of Shunpo. Teeth clenched, fists tightened, movements noisy and chaotic as he dashed down the corridor as swiftly as his legs would carry him. There were curves and turns in the hallways, but thankfully no forks. A straightforward rush to the end. He growled softly as he came to the bottom of an impossibly long staircase, but he didn't dare stop.

His legs were heavy and felt like jelly, but he propelled himself up the steps at least two at a time, spurring himself on with an almost reckless abandon, arms pumping at his sides to make things easier.

Ichigo burst through the door at the top of the stairs, letting out a shout of surprise as the world switched from a monochromatic white to a blisteringly bold polychromatic universe. His breath was almost knocked from his lungs as he threw up a hand to shield his eyes, wincing as he peeked between his fingers at the vast blue sky overhead.

"What the fuck?" He licked chapped lips as he felt a breeze tousle his hair, "I-I thought this was inside... Where's the fucking ceiling?"

Scowling upwards, allowing his gaze to roam as he took in the sights of the multitude of pale buildings scattered across the subtle soft sands, he could see a vast wall encasing the area, but the lack of a ceiling was throwing him off. Peering over the edge of the bridge he found himself to be on, his stomach lurched as he realised just how high up he was, it sent a shiver down his spine.

The sun was warm on the back of his neck and he found himself looking back up towards the sky, it was an impossibility that he couldn't entirely wrap his head around. Shaking himself out of his revere, he started across the bridge, his movements slower as he tried once again to sense of the reiatsu of his companions, though, to his annoyance the Pesquisa seemed to have gone into hibernation, leaving him blind to their whereabouts.

A heavy sigh escaped him and he pinched the bridge of his nose. His entire head hurt. It felt heavy and tight, like someone was squeezing his skull between bare hands, squishing everything together with undeniable force. It wasn't just an external feeling though, it was internal as well, like his skull was just a little too small for everything stored inside.

Ichigo groaned and slapped himself firmly, trying to tear himself away from the sensation. A sharp breath escaped his lips as he turned on his heel, eyes widening as he found himself staring at a figure clad in white. With an elongated, white mask covered in eight holes and a modified white dress garb that covered its entire body, clad in a frilly coat and a single white glove, the being before him was the perfect picture of eccentricity.

The strawberry took an involuntary step backwards, he could smell the Hollow reiatsu seeping out of the body in front of him, it was strong and dense and made his senses go wild with a mixture of excitement and dread. A low growl resonated in the air between them, and it took him a moment to realise the sound had rippled up from his on throat. Instinct.

"Espada." The voices began purring in his ears again, louder, crisper than before.

Ichigo swallowed, throat constricting as he felt like a thousand eyes were piercing his body in unison, examining every inch of his very soul for judgement. Worth.

"Come with me." The unnaturally deep voice that came from behind the mask surprised him, the Espada disappeared in a burst of Sonido, reappearing further up the bridge, leading him towards the large white and green building up ahead.

"You can't be serious?" He muttered, eyes narrowing.

The Espada paused and glanced over his shoulder, speaking in an even more shockingly high pitch voice, "Follow."

"Alright, alright." He said gruffly, trudging after the white clad figure begrudgingly.

As the large doors ground open, Ichigo was bathed in darkness, he persisted and followed the Espada inside, refusing to flinch as the entrance juddered to a close again the moment he was fully over the threshold.

"Sorry," the deep voice was back, "I simply cannot seem to stand the sunlight."

"I know exactly what you mean." Ichigo mockingly gestured to his hair, "I burn to a crisp if I'm out in it for too long."

"Then we are both blessed that the sunlight can't make it in here." The pitched changed mid-way through his speech, as his bare hand rose to his mask, "Allow me to remove this... And greet you properly."

Holding his breath as the mask came free, Ichigo felt his world turn upside down in an instant, forcing him to take several steps backwards until he hit the wall, mouth falling open in abstract horror as his gut churned.

"My name is Aaroniero. Noveno Espada. Aaroniero Arruruerie." His voice now devoid of both high and low pitches, instead settling for a far more familiar baritone as the face of Isshin Kurosaki made itself known.

"I-Impossible." Ichigo gasped out, "It's can't be... Dad... Are you really... How..."

His knees were shaking as a thousand thoughts washed over him, he knew it was impossible, he knew his father was dead and gone. The man in front of him couldn't possibly be Isshin. He was killed along side the rest of the Kurosaki family.

"It's been a while, Ichigo!" Isshin broke into a bright and positively goofy grin, jumping down from the platform he had settled on in an attempt to drop kick the unsuspecting strawberry, "I'd say you are about twenty six years late for our family time! There's only one acceptable punishment for that!"

Eyes widening at the sudden familiar scene, he darted to the side, narrowing dodging the heel of a boot that would have likely broken his nose, "W-What are you doing?!" He half shrieked.

"You truly are my son, to dodge so effectively! But your guard... Is... Down!" The man turned on the spot, slamming his heel into the still stunned Shinigami's shins, knocking him flying before his hands wrapped around an exposed leg, his foot pressing into the middle of the strawberry's back.

Ichigo felt a flow of familial memories flowing through his body and without thinking about it, he brought a hand up, punching the man squarely in the jaw, throwing him backwards as he bounced up onto his feet.

"What is wrong with you, Goat-Face?!" He yelled, panting harshly as he glared across at the bearded male.

Instead of responding initially, Isshin picked himself up and rubbed his jaw tenderly, sitting heavily against one of the nearby pillars, he puffed out a breath and reached into the pockets of his coat, patting himself down momentarily before producing a small pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Hollows can smoke?" Ichigo blinked, staring with a little less anger, instead giving in to the puzzlement he was feeling.

The older of the two fixed him with a surprised look at his question, chuckling softly as he popped a cigarette between his lips and lit it, "It's an old habit I've never been able to break. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get a decent brand here."

Biting the inside of his mouth as he battled with the rational part of him that was still stating the fact that his father was long dead, while his eyes were very much stating that his father was sat in front of him. His voice, his looks, his mannerisms... His stupid round house kicks. It was all there. All accurate... All true... All real...

"H-How... Is this possible?" He asked, taking a hesitant step forwards, "I... You... I thought... I thought you were dead..."

Making a small sound of disbelief, Isshin pointed with his cigarette, "Idiot, I am dead. Why else would I be here in Hueco Mundo, looking at you in your Shinigami uniform. More importantly, how is that possible? I was under the impression that you were still alive."

Gulping and shuffling his feet, Ichigo looked off to one side, "It... It's a long story..."

"I'm guessing that bastard, Aizen, had a hand in it, right?" A ring of smoke puffed its way across the room.

Glancing around, the strawberry rubbed his hands together uncertainly, "Yeah, he does... But... You don't sound very fond of him. You're one of his Espada though... What's that about?"

The older Kurosaki shrugged, "I'm surviving the only way I can in this place. That doesn't mean I accept everything that man has to say."

"But... He was the reason Karin and Yuzu... Mum... He's the reason you all died! How can you follow him at all?! Even if it is to survive?" He felt a tang of anger bite into his words as he glared at the man.

"You're not exactly in the best position to talk about following him, are you?" Isshin wagged a finger, scolding him, "I know bits and pieces about what happened in Soul Society, but Aizen tends to keep me in the dark about things concerning you. I guess he's worried about my loyalties."

Ichigo failed to suppress a hiss and glowered at the floor, "I didn't know what had happened until a few months ago. I had no memory of my Human life! When I finally remembered... I did everything I could to stop what he was planning!"

"I know, I know. I heard from the Sexta. Seems like you have some interesting and unique powers of your own these days," he took a deep drag from his guilty pleasure, "When I heard you'd broken into Las Noches, I had to find you Ichigo."

The strawberry took a cautious step forwards, sitting slowly in front of the Espada, kneeling awkwardly on the hard floor. He was still unsettled, uncertain, unsure. Had his father's soul been denied Konsō? Had he been devoured by a Hollow, or become a Hollow on his own? There were so many questions.

"What... What happened that night?" He asked quietly.

Isshin sighed deeply a frown settling between bushy eyebrows, "My memories aren't so good now either, Ichigo. It's been a long time, years in Hueco Mundo can affect your mind."

"Please try, Dad! I remember what happened before, and what happened after... But everything in between it's... It's the last part of my memory that I can't complete!" He didn't realise he'd started shouting until he fell silent, touching his lips in thought as he slumped, "I-I need to know..."

Another sigh, another smoke ring, another cigarette being lit, Isshin looked up at him from under his lashes, as if gauging what he could afford to say, "Alright. You were always a kind kid, the sort that would stop in the street to rescue a bee from a spider web; or that would carrying all the shopping bags even if they were way too heavy for you. So, when that night you saw a stranger being soaked through by the rain you offered them somewhere to clean up. You had no idea you'd just invited Sōsuke Aizen into our home. You just wanted to help."

"I remember." He nodded once, "Mum sounded so angry when she told me to get away from him, I was so confused, I was worried he'd get sick from the rain."

"He had sensed your reiatsu, even as a child it was immense. Your mother and I had so many talks, worried about how best to hide you in case Soul Society came knocking, before we knew it you were ten and growing stronger every year." Isshin blew out a long trail, "He intended to make experiments of the entire family, I have no doubt. But you surprised him, jumped in front of Masaki to protect her. You always said you'd do anything to keep her safe. She was your whole world."

Looking down at his hands, Ichigo felt his eyes stinging, the briefest flash of wavy hair and happy coffee coloured eyes choked him, "She was perfect. In every way. I always wanted to protect her. When the twins came along... That extended to them as well."

"Ichigo." Isshin's voice lost all humour, all joy, his expression deadly serious, "Aizen used the Hōgyoku, wanting to find a way to create the perfect hybrid, the perfect creation of a higher being. He sought us out because of our natural gift, our naturally strong reiatsu."

"Because of our nobility, right?"

"Ah, you know your true heritage as well? We never told you as a child that you were nobility. Kūkaku, Ganju and Kaien were just relatives from out of town." He rubbed his forehead, "All nobles are naturally gifted with deeper reserves of reiatsu. It's just one of the many perks, I guess. But it makes us better test subjects for people with desires like Aizen, we can take more punishment."

He shuddered at the thought of Aizen thinking about them as laboratory rats to use and dispose of at will, he couldn't believe he'd never realised it before, "Do you think it would have happened even if I hadn't invited him in?"

"Of course it would have." His response was immediate, "You've been in close contact with the man, you know as well as I do that he gets what he wants, no matter what. He isn't the sort of person to take no for an answer. He'd have entered the house with or without permission. It wasn't your fault."

He felt his guilt lessen a little, it was hard to believe how much he'd needed to hear his father tell him that he wasn't to blame, "What happened next?"

"He used the Hōgyoku, its power struck you when you put yourself between him and Masaki. You hit the floor like a corpse, we feared the worst... Feared you had been killed. But... The truth was far worse." Another cigarette was lit, the older Kurosaki looked drained, stressed almost, "You started writhing, thrashing, having a fit of some kind. You were struggling to breathe, you sounded like you were in so much pain. I rolled you over to try and clear your airway and... That's when I saw it."

"Saw what?" Ichigo's voice was barely above a whisper.

"The eyes of a Hollow, staring back at me." Isshin hung his head, letting out a quivering breath, "Your reiatsu exploded, more powerful than before, you started screaming, your body was being crushed by your own power. And then... And then... White foam was leaking from your eyes and nose and mouth, encasing your face. You weren't you anymore. You weren't my son. You weren't even a proper Hollow, there was no Hollow hole in your chest, yet there was no Soul Chain either."

"I knew that my Hollow was created that night but I had no idea that I had... Turned into that form..." He rubbed his chin, wondering why Shiro had never mentioned it.

The Espada lifted his gaze, looking across at the strawberry haired male with an almost pitying expression, "Oh, Ichigo... My son... You have no idea, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Despite mine and Masaki's attempts to bring you back, to call out to the Human side of you, it was no good. The Hollow side was far too strong, too superior in every way. You were a child, how could you be expected to overcome such reckless hate?" Isshin hesitated for a long moment, "When Aizen called, you answered."

"Called? What do you mean, called?" He swallowed thickly.

"He was the creator of your Hollow, he was the only one with any power over it. So when he ordered you to attack... You did."

"Attack?" Ichigo repeated, his blood turning cold, "Attack what?"

"Ichigo..."

"Oh! Oh my God!" He cried out as everything clicked into place, his breaths shorten to sharp bursts as he clutched his chest tightly, "N-No... No it can't be... It... It can't be! It... No... Please..."

"I'm sorry." Isshin breathed.

He lurched to his feet suddenly, staggering away from the man as bile rose in his throat, he barely made it behind one of the vast columns before throwing up, his entire body quaking with violent trembles so strong they hurt. His heart was being torn in two. Clasping a hand over his mouth, he tried to silence the scream that was bubbling to the surface, but the wail broke free between his fingers, echoing like a howl throughout the hall.

His head was suddenly so quiet he felt like he'd been trapped inside a fantasy of solidarity and emptiness. It was so silent, so still and so soundless that he thought he might go mad. All the voices, all the singing, it was gone in a heartbeat. He stared blankly, his eyes welling up and spilling over as warm tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping off his chin and onto the floor in front of him.

"Why did you never tell me?! Why did you hide it from me?! Why... Why would you keep that to yourself... All these years!" His thoughts were a jargon in the empty space of his mind, "Is this why my memories and my emotions disappeared?! Did you take them from me?! Did you keep them locked away to save your own skin?! Answer me! Shiro fucking answer me!"

The pain was unimaginable, but the anger... He was seething. His face reddening with rage as he dug his nails into the stone wall, not feeling it crumble under his grasp.

"Answer me you coward!" He hissed internally.

Never before had he felt such searing, deep seated hatred beating through every vein, every nerve, every muscle and bone in his body. The very fibres of his being seethed with it. Tendrils of widespread, churning, quivering, molten hot hate.

"Get out." Ichigo breathed, smacking himself hard around the face, repeating the action with every following syllable, "Get out. Get out! Get out! Get! OUT!"

With a gasp he felt the tearing effect of his Hollow pulling free, and he instantly heard heavy breathing behind him; he turned slowly, so slowly he thought time might stop as he came face to face with his albino counterpart.

"Aibou!" Shiro looked startled, gold and black eyes wide with what looked like fear, "Aibou please listen to me!"

"NO!" He screamed, "You don't get to call me that! I am not your partner!"

Ichigo's teeth were clenched, flashed as his lips curled back in a menacing snarl, fists curled at his sides as he glowered across at the Hollow. Finally chestnut revealed itself now they were apart, but there was nothing warm about it. His reiatsu was lashing out, dense and heavy and all piling down on the albino.

"A-Aibou... Please... Hear me out..." Shiro was gasping, panting under the weight that was creeping across the room, legs shaking, he slid down the wall, if possible he would have paled further.

"Is it true?" He growled out, standing stock still.

The Hollow glanced to his right, swallowing thickly as he saw the impassive expression on Isshin's face, hesitation and fear making it hard to retain his usual mocking mannerisms, his eyes flicked back to Ichigo's, "Yes... It's true."

"Why? What happened that night? Tell me!" Ichigo demanded, shoulders shaking as he tried not to weep again, trying to maintain his rage, blinding himself to every other emotion that could have threatened to overwhelm him in that moment.

"I... I was a fledgling... Takin' everythin' in for the first time. The sights, the smells, the reiatsu, it was confusing and I was lost... It wasn't right, I wasn't right... It was like watchin' though a screen... Through eyes that weren't mine." Shiro's hands were clasped tightly together, "I wanted more... I wanted to see, and smell and feel... So I pushed my way out. It was painful, like crawlin' through a hole that was too small. I was free. Breathin' in the air, the smell of Masaki's clothes as she leaned over me, hugged me. But that voice. Callin' to me from across the room. Aizen-sama." Shiro barely dared to lift his gaze, but when he did he was met with nothing but ice cold fury, "Aibou... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... He ordered me to attack... I couldn't... I couldn't say no..."

"So you butchered my family?!" Ichigo roared, taking a few steps towards the albino before stopping again, "You tore them apart! You mutilated them! Karin and Yuzu... They were six years old!"

"I couldn't control it! The hunger was beyond me! I didn't want it to happen but I couldn't do anythin'!" He knew his protests were falling on deaf ears, "Afterwards... I fell asleep... I took yer memories of it... I thought I was protectin' ya! I never meant to steal yer emotions too... But I couldn't give 'em back without hurtin' ya more!"

Closing the distance between them, Ichigo snatched a hand out, wrapping his fingers around the Hollow's throat as he hoisted him to his feet, pinning him in place, noses touching, "You know... I'd almost be tempted to forgive you... To understand... But there's something I realised..."

"W-What?" He asked, biting his tongue as he tried not to react to the discomfort of his oxygen being cut off.

Ichigo tilted his head slightly, eyes like narrow slits, "The blackouts. Those little moments over the years that are like blank spots. Like waking up in Aizen's bed with no memory of getting there. Or losing control when I assassinated Division Six's Third Seat. Or killing the sick fucks I met in Fugai. None of that was me. Not really. That was all you. Sneaking in, taking over, using me."

"I-I... No, it wasn't like that..." The albino spluttered, "I swear! It wasn't like that, Aibou!"

"No, of course it wasn't." He hissed, snorting at him in disgust, "Nothing ever is with you."

Shiro looked incredibly panicked as the hand around his throat tightened, his pale cheeks gaining a flush of pink as he began to choke in earnest, feet kicking weakly against the stone pillar he was trapped against, his hands raising shakily to try and free himself, "A-Ai... Aibou..."

The urge was there to snap his neck and be done with it, but his attention was momentarily drawn away by the sight of his dad, the Espada, still sat there just watching their conversation. A small frown touched his face as he observed the older Kurosaki, tickles of disorientation touching around the edges of his anger riddled mind, fresh questions popping up only to be quashed with answers that were too obvious.

"There's one thing you didn't tell me, Goat-Face." He muttered, frown deepening.

"What's that?" Isshin looked surprised at being addressed after so long sitting on the sidelines.

"You were a Shinigami. When he..." Ichigo took a breath, "When we killed you... You should have faded into nothingness. So how did you end up here, as a Hollow? As an Espada? Why are you using the name Aaroniero Arruruerie instead of Isshin Kurosaki?"

The Espada grew incredibly still, his face an enigma as he seemed to consider the question, "Ah shit... Why did you have to be so perceptive?"

Ichigo tensed, "So, are you gonna answer me or do I have to guess?"

The older man got to his feet slowly, hands in his pockets, "That fate would have been all well and good, had there not been a Hollow waiting nearby to devour the powerful reiatsu the two of you released. It was over too quickly, the Hollow evolved and took on the attributes of those he had consumed. Masaki, Karin, Yuzu... Isshin..."

Ichigo released Shiro without warning, ignoring the grunt of pain he heard from the albino, "I see. And, tell me... Are you the Hollow that devoured them? Or another Hollow that devoured that one? Because I know... I think I always knew... You're not my dad."

"Smart boy." Came the reply, a smirk coming into play on the man's face. It wasn't an expression that suited him, it maliciously tugged at the few good memories Ichigo was getting back, the goofy grins, the laughter, the warmth.

"So, what was this? A stalling tactic? Keep me in one place? Stop me progressing? Hopefully get me to destroy my Hollow, leaving me weakened? Was that the plan?" The strawberry asked, voice cracking at the pain he felt sweeping through him, the realisation that he hadn't been reunited with his father at all, just a cheap imitation.

"Not exactly." The Hollow with Isshin's face shrugged offhandedly, "Aizen-sama ordered the Espada to refrain from coming into contact with you. But I couldn't seem to help myself. Maybe the essence of your family was tugging at me to come and find you."

There was a peculiar feeling that rose up and washed away all the anger and pain he'd felt, it was a numbness. An empty chill. It wasn't peace, it wasn't calm, it was something else. But for the first time since setting foot in Hueco Mundo he felt like he was in control.

"So, just to confirm things," he said softly, "I killed my family while my Hollow was in control of my body, and then you swooped in and killed their soul forms, feasting on them like chunks of prime steak. Am I missing anything?"

"No, no that just about covers it." The Espada laughed nonchalantly.

"Okay... Okay that's good. I'm glad I understand at last." He glanced around the building for a long moment, letting out a sudden sharp laugh, "And... Shiro's quite strong... Otherwise Aizen wouldn't have cared to keep us alive this long. And you, you probably want to eat him to increase your own power, so you can rise in the ranks of the Espada... Right?"

"Oh, well I mean I hadn't given it that much thought," The fake father waved a hand dismissively before a hungry, greedy expression befell him, "But if you don't want him anymore... Given what he did... I'd be happy to take him off your hands."

"Aibou?" Shiro's voice was quiet, disbelieving as he staggered to his feet, eyes wide, "Aibou... You don't want that... Right? Aibou?"

Ichigo chuckled again, the sound dying on his lips as he looked down at the pristine white version of himself, tipping his head to one side as he saw the terror in those golden globes before he turned his back on the creature and walked away, picking up Zangetsu from his resting place on the floor, "Be my guest."

Eyes scanning the room again, Ichigo finally noticed the small glimmering specs buried in the ceiling. If his instincts were right, they were cameras. It made sense that there would be security, Aizen had always been and would always be, a control freak. Someone who needed to see everything, down to the last inch.

He could almost feel chocolate eyes on him, at every angle, watching and analysing and enjoying his torment. Every slant, every hidden nook, every corner of the shadowy palace belonging to the Noveno Espada, Aizen would be seeing everything.

He heard Shiro release a pained cry, and he closed his eyes. He wanted to hate him. He wanted to kill him. Or have someone else do it for him. The Hollow had done nothing but bring him pain and misery from the moment he was created. Murdering his family, afflicting his emotions and memories, almost killing Byakuya in Fugai...

But there had been good times too, moments of comradery and maybe even friendship. Working together on Sôkyoku Hill to protect Rukia, learning to compromise with each other, killing Yammy, trying to protect Byakuya in Rukongai, leaving that orange flower in the memorial garden.

If Shiro was a curse, then so be it. He was his curse. If Shiro was a monster, then so be it. He was his monster. If Shiro was the instrument of his destruction... So be it. He could endure the burden. He could endure the judgement he'd receive from others. So be it. All of it.

Ichigo allowed Zangetsu to slide through his fingers, grasping the bandage wrapped around the hilt, he lifted his arm and began spinning the blade, mimicking what he'd seen Shiro do before. The blade increased in speed, becoming little more than a blur.

Letting out a single breath, he swung the huge sword upwards and watched as the darkened hell hole was illuminated with brilliant light from the outside world, lumps of ragged rock falling from the tattered ceiling.

"Yo, Aaroniero Arruruerie, Noveno Espada," he turned slowly on the spot, eyes narrowed as he glared at the Hollow who'd dared steal his father's face, "Hands off my Hollow."