Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
It is later that night, and Ichigo is dreaming, for the first time in quite a while. Bits and snatches of his conversation with Rukia drift through his mind; her face, the bruise, his hands on her all flash before his eyes. He feels remorse, he feels regret, he feels anger, hatred, a deep well of rage which begins to overflow as her words play and replay. Underneath emotion, he wonders vaguely why he is directly angry at Rukia for this...he's the one hurting her, really, it doesn't make much sense that he's mad at her because she told him, betrayed him, broke her promise to him...
The dreams turn dark, and Ichigo is caught up in hopeless battles and foundering ships in stormy seas. He is just about to drive Zangetsu through a snarling arrancar dressed as a pirate when he feels cold pressure against his neck; someone has snuck up on him from behind!
"Ichigo," the person says, their voice terrified. "I know you're in there; wake up, damn it!"
Ichigo wants to protest; the arrancar is getting to its feet, grabbing for its sword, but no words come out of his helplessly moving mouth. The arrancar raises its sword and deals a blow straight to Ichigo's skull; Ichigo blacks out.
He wakes up, head aching, Zangetsu drawn, Rukia pinned to her bed beneath him, Sode no Shirayuki across his neck.
"You think you can - Ichigo!" She cuts herself off with his name, relief colouring every syllable. His head feels like it is splitting open; he falls to the side. Rukia gives an alarmed cry; he notices vaguely that they are both in soul form once again, that Rukia has small rips in her pyjama shirt, that there is blood on the tip of his zanpakutou.
"What's happening?" He asks, clutching his head in one hand, Zangetsu in the other.
"You're...it came out again," Rukia says; her voice is low, urgent. "Ichigo, it's angry that I told you; it - "
"Get away - " Ichigo gasps, and Rukia recoils, hurt, confused. "No," he grits his teeth, "I have to - get away from here." He winces and cries out in pain; understanding dawns in Rukia's eyes.
"Follow me," she whispers; she takes his hand and leads him - bent over, stumbling, vision muddied from the pain in his head - out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house in to the yard. He leans against a tree, breathing heavily, thoughts spinning out of control.
"Ichigo?" He hears Rukia's voice as if from very far away; it grates against his hearing, adds to the pain, and he is angered. Why is she hurting him? Didn't she understand what was going on? He thought she understood, he thought he'd persuaded her - Ichigo shakes his head; the thoughts creeping in are not his own, and he realizes what is going on.
Rukia's face swims before his eyes; he needs to get her away, call Hitsugaya, call Ikkaku, call everyone to come and hold him still until he can regain control, because he is scared, frightened, terrified of what will happen if he slips. But it is like in the dream; his mouth moves, but he cannot say anything.
"Rukia-chan," his lips move; the hollow's voice comes out. Dimly, he sees Rukia jerk back; words continue to spill out of his mouth unbidden, his voice corroded, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "You broke your promise, Rukia-chan,"
Ichigo tries to wrench away the cotton which seems to stop his voice, tries to articulate his confusion, his sudden doubts. "Ruki-agh..." he gathers himself again, and manages to blurt out "Promise?!" Control is brutally seized; his throat moves in a cold chuckle.
"That's right, King, she made me a promise," its voice is mocking, but Ichigo lets it speak, wanting to know. "But she broke it - " Ichigo feels his head turn; his eyes fix on Rukia, who is openmouthed with shock, horror smeared across her features - "knowing what would happen if she did."
"Sounds more like you threatened her," Ichigo manages; his hand is wrapped around Zangetsu, and it is easier for him to talk, to think, now that he is in direct contact with his zanpakutou.
"Oh no," it butts back in. "I'm a ...man of my word. I'm even willing to cut her a break, while still holding up my end of the deal; instead of killing her, like I originally said, I just decided to play with her a bit - but she managed to interrupt that."
Ichigo, mind shying away from the implications of what it had been doing when he had awoken, doesn't understand. "Deal?" He asks, forcefully because it is hard to move his mouth.
"There was no deal," Rukia's voice slices into the odd conversation, brittle and sharp as a chip of ice. "I made no promise; the hollow blackmailed me to keep quiet by threatening my life...and your sisters, Ichigo."
"Rukia-chan," the hiss slithers off of Ichigo's tongue, "do you still really think I am still like that? I thought you, of all people, would understand..."
Rukia looks stricken; Ichigo feels as if something is going on out of his sight.
"I tried to talk to you, Rukia-chan," his mouth is still moving, the syllables dropping off his tongue loaded with accusation and hurt. "Did you just ignore me the entire time? Did you pretend to be interested, plotting to betray and kill me all the while? Shinigami are all the same." Ichigo could feel himself almost spitting the words.
"Don't try and pull that," Rukia's eyes are narrowed, and Ichigo is suddenly struck with the realization that she is talking to a being utterly not him; he is a nonentity in this conversation, as all her attention is diverted on and through him. And he can feel the other presence, the dark spot in his mind, the block on his control, the thing that even now works steadily to control voice, features, limbs.
"You threatened murder," Rukia is still talking, her voice hard, "and what you did... what you were doing tonight was just as twisted. You have no moral high ground over me, or anyone else."
"I was merciful." It says, and Ichigo feels his face twist into an unfamiliar expression. "But to a fault, it looks like. I would never kill you, Rukia-chan. Doesn't that count for anything?"
"No." Rukia's voice is quiet; Ichigo wonders why his hand stings, and realizes that the hollow within him has backhanded the girl in front of him. With a roar, Ichigo surges forward, but it is too late; the hand that rested on Zangetsu now burns from contact with Rukia's face, and it is hard to move, harder to think. He manages to buckle his own knees, collapsing at the base of the tree, refusing to give it the chance to hurt Rukia again. There is a whisper and a thunk, and the white blade of her zanpakutou quivers where it has been driven into the trunk beside his head: Rukia is leaning over him, her expression angered and strangely disappointed.
"Being human is more than choosing not to murder."
Ichigo chokes; human? Was that what this was all about? The hollow is strangely silent, its control relaxed, preoccupied; Ichigo takes advantage. "Human? Come on," he manages to say, "You're doing a great job so far convincing her with violence - " Ichigo feels his voice shift painfully as the hollow seizes control of it.
"Yeah, well, kissing didn't work out so well last night," it growls; Rukia's face flames and she recoils. Shock runs through Ichigo, followed quickly by anger, which swells to a wave of rage as the hollow continued, its voice sly, "Although I think she may have liked it; I know I did - ack!"
"You bastard!" Ichigo fairly shouts, assuming the worst, struggling to control his own voice, "What do you mean, you -" he grasps for words, feeling sick, used, horror-struck. "You used my body, you made me -" he cannot articulate, because Rukia did not want it, could not have wanted it, and the monster inside him had forced itself - with his body - on her... "Why?" he croaks.
Rukia looks away. He waits, relinquishing control of his voice, but the hollow, too, is silent. There is a long moment, and then, without warning, Ichigo's consciousness bucks violently; he closes his eyes against a wave of icy cold, flailing helplessly within his own mind.
-
The world rights itself again sharply, and Ichigo opens his eyes to stare down at Rukia, who stands in front of him, her eyes on him pained and fearful. He realizes that they are on the roof, but he cannot move, cannot speak, only watch. It is more like a dream than anything else; as in a dream, he becomes aware that it is the night before, that he is shirtless and embodied, that his hands are cruelly tight on Rukia's shoulder and waist. The hollow is in control, he realizes, and there is nothing he can do, because it is just a memory.
Rukia, wincing, lifts her hand, rests it gently on his arm. Emotion breaks through Ichigo; it is not his own, it is alien, it floods his mind as if a dam has burst. At once, the hollow is prideful, desperate, hopeful, needing to be understood - her hand on his arm is electric, sending a jolt through him: awareness of his fingers digging into her skin, realization and something more flashing through the hollow. It lets go of her, quickly, steps back.
Ichigo wishes this weren't happening. He doesn't want to know what happens next. The hollow is feeling loss...of control? Ichigo tries to analyze the feeling, and realizes that it is worried and insecure underneath the still-blinding streak of pride. He tries to make sense of this, but is interrupted by a wave of shock mingled with disbelief: Rukia has put her hand up to his cheek. The hollow jerks back in surprise but quickly relaxes; Ichigo feels her palm warm and smooth against the side of his face, and lets the curiously warm feeling that the hollow is experiencing wash over him, feeling guilty for enjoying it.
Alarm trickles back into Ichigo as he feels his hand cover hers on its face. What is it planning? But all he can feel is the hollow's triumph, coupled with a strange, unnameable feeling as it looks down into Rukia's eyes; her face is hesitant, curious, compassionate. A wave of desire slams into Ichigo; most of it is the hollow's: it is jubilant, its hopes high and soaring, and Rukia seems to glow softly in its vision. Ichigo realizes suddenly that it is discerning her reiatsu; a hazy white which flutters like snow all around her, and realizes with a bizarre jolt that he can smell it. It is beautiful, and Ichigo cannot tell his thought from the hollow's.
Rukia exhales; the hollow inhales, drinking her in, and Ichigo is equal parts horrified, disgusted, and turned on. Her lips part; she licks them, tongue darting, and the lust in the hollow's mind is nearly overwhelming.
"I..." Rukia begins to speak, her voice soft, and Ichigo feels the hollow's decision click into place; smoothly, it bends over her and places his mouth on hers. Ichigo, dizzy from feeling, tries to gather himself, tries to remember that it is wrong, that this is not what he wants, that the hollow inside him is taking advantage of Rukia: her lips respond to his, and he feels it clamp down on a groan.
Her reiatsu is all around him, heady and intoxicating; he feels the hollow tasting it, tasting her, and his blood rushes hot in his veins. Ichigo can no longer tell his own feelings from those of the hollow; they are jumbled together in the flood of lust, desire, and jubilation which courses through them. It is all over in a moment; the hollow pulls back, and for one searing moment Ichigo feels a combination of disappointment and rage flash through him. Rage is quickly redirected at himself; what is he thinking?
Rukia is staring at him; agonized guilt crashes over Ichigo, a feeling completely unshared by the hollow, whose ego is currently running its brain. Ichigo is acutely aware of the way Rukia's eyes run over his face, the way her chest is heaving rapidly, the way her breath catches in her throat.
"Don't look at me like that, Rukia-chan," the hollow nearly purrs, and its voice to Ichigo's ears is vile. "I might not be able to resist the temptation of really tasting you next time, and then Ichigo would wake up, and then where would we be?"
Ichigo wants to hurt something. The world flips; all of a sudden his fingers are lifting Rukia's chin, and the world flips again; suddenly her blade (the flat, why the flat?) is pushing against his throat, and his hands are in her hair, and he is pushing their lips together with savage force, rage and lust and bitter pride filling the hollow; the world flips.
-
He opens his eyes to see Rukia's face, worried and fearful: she is crouching before him, hands on his shoulders, shaking him and urging him to wake up. He feels her stiffen and wonders why; in a flash, his hands reach out to spin her around, and his arm snakes around her waist to catch her into his lap. The hollow is in control of almost all of Ichigo's body.
"Give me an inch and I'll take the whole goddamn mile," it says wickedly. "Hello, Rukia-chan. Did you miss me?" Rukia is busy fighting tooth and nail to get out of his lap, but the hollow is bigger and its strength is inexorable; after a small struggle, Zangetsu's tip is pricking against Rukia's neck and she holds very still.
Ichigo screams profanities in his own mind, but the hollow's lips merely tremble as triumph lights its eyes. "That's better," it smirks, then leers, "But if you want to keep wiggling just slightly, I won't stop you." Rukia, stunned silent by the zanpakutou at her neck, does not remain so for long, sheer anger driving her to speak; Ichigo finds it easier and easier to believe the vision a twisted and biased memory the more she speaks.
"Get your hands off me, hollow," she spits, her eyes narrowed. "I will never side with you against Ichigo, do you understand? Never, no matter what you try to do to me."
Ichigo feels a grim satisfaction at her words; the hollow is silent. Rukia glares up at him; memory flashes through Ichigo's mind, her sword at his throat, his hands fisted in her hair and his mouth pressing brutally against hers, and he flinches away from it.
"Fine then," it says, its tone oddly final. "If that's what you want..."
Ichigo feels it stretch his mouth in an impossibly wide grin; the icy fingers of terror wrap around his heart and begin to squeeze. He can feel bits of bone forming on the left side of his face.