Disclaimer: Bleach and all affiliated characters and settings are the creative property of Kubo Tite and all companies holding title to its distribution. Used for non-profit entertainment purposes.

Warnings: Dark, divergent-future-ish type AU-ish thing, angst.

This prompt gave me a lot of trouble at first because most of the ideas I had were rather dirty (and I really, really am not willing to write smut), and then I asked Kellen what she thought of when she heard the word "deprivation." Her answer somehow ended up double-bunnying me.

This one is more serious, the other one is more crack-ish. Again, I'm alternating between the two, haha. I like this general idea enough that I might use it later on for something else, though I don't particularly like how I wrote this piece.

July 14 Prompt: Deprivation, take 1

Hypnosis

In the deep, dark solitary, the only things that were left were the vague notions of existence, and the fact that he was once not in this place. It had been so long since he'd seen, heard, touched, known – himself included. He once had a name, even, but he didn't remember what it was now; he hadn't heard it used in so long.

There was an image that he'd had, of a girl with black hair that trailed a little into her face. In his mind, he could see her blurred outline, but the details had long since faded. She was a precious person to him – that much, he recalled. But if she was so special to him, why had he forgotten her face? Why was it that her voice in his memories seemed so fuzzy and distant?

He didn't remember how he'd lost track of her, or even how he had ended up here. At this moment, it seemed so important to bring all these memories back to life, but an immeasurable amount of time had passed since he last had any memories to speak of.

There was nothing here in the dark, except whatever was left of him – and the last of him was fading along with his memories.

Until, suddenly, a sensation he had long ago forgotten spread along his limbs like fire, and the world painfully exploded in bright light. Voices sliced through the silence like an assassin's blade, stinging his ears and shattering the dark. And just as suddenly, that girl's face appeared before him, and he recalled every last detail he'd forgotten as they swam before his watery vision. She looked frightened, upset, and her lips were moving but the noise nearly drowned out everything she was saying. Except the one thing she kept repeating over and over as her hands grasped his face, every brush of her fingertips causing him a strange cacophony of searing agony and desperate pleasure.

It's going to be okay, Ichigo – I've got you. Aizen's gone; I've got you.

And in that moment, Ichigo – gods, a name! – realized that he'd nearly forgotten how to smile, and even though the sensation cracked his dry lips until they bled and tears steamed freely down his face, it was possibly the happiest moment of his bleak existence.