Chapter Two: Open the Door

"Let me out! The hell! This is my body! You can't do this! LET ME OUT!!"

His knuckles were deathly white. No wonder. He'd maintained a vice-grip on the bars of his prison for so long bloodflow to his fingers had long since been cut off. He kept on hollering, though he knew it was no use. No one could hear him. He was the only soul in the whole of that world. That insane Laughing Man had trapped him within himself, had locked him up and swallowed the key. There was no way out. There was no one coming. He knew that, but kept right on hollering. He would holler himself hoarse, and even then would bang on the bars until something gave. Either the bars, or his sanity.

***

White. Everything he could see in the featureless room was white. The floor, the smooth walls, the bed he lay on, everything was white. He groaned at the pain that lanced through his eyes as they tried to adjust to the piercing effulgence of the place. He was getting sick of the monotony. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, clearing away the last hints of sleep and pain.

Where was he? He couldn't remember. He knew it was someplace in the Apenados' Headquarters, but he didn't know where exactly. What he did know was that he had to find a way out of the room, that stick-of-chalk Palido guy, and some answers. Yesterday, when he'd gotten here he'd only been told to "rest and build up strength for the task ahead," whatever that meant.

He also knew he was hungry. His stomach was doing an excellent job of reminding him of that. He groaned again at the sound of the mighty rumblings from his midsection.

A quiet hiss sound from behind alerted him that someone had entered the room. That was another weird thing about the place. There were no doors, but the walls would suddenly hiss and slit open to let someone through at certain places. How anyone could find these invisible openings was a mystery to him.

He glanced at his visitor. It was a tall, dark-haired girl he remembered from yesterday called something-or-other bringing him a tray of food.

"Good morning Kurosaki-san. I hope you enjoyed your sleep." She set the tray down on a table beside the bed.

"Yeah… would have been better if I understood what I was dreaming about," he said as he reached for an apple on the tray.

"What exactly did you dream about?" she asked in a detached, uninterested tone as she moved away from his bed towards a wall.

"Uh… I don't remember anything exact. I just kept getting blurry images of old stuff. You know, those people dressed like me…. Uh, "Shinigami"? Yeah, and more monsters like the ones I saw when I first arrived here… yeah. Stuff like that." He bit slowly into the apple and almost immediately spat it out. It was like biting into plasticine.

"Hey… this apple is tasteless." He stopped chewing.

Something-or-other (jeez, why couldn't he remember her name?) just stood there, smiling a plastic smile that more than annoyed him.

"Hey. Tell me where that Palido guy is."

Silence.

"Hey!" He stood up and grabbed at her arm, not to harm her, but to maybe shake an answer out of her.

His fingers just barely grazed her sleeve. A tenth of a second later his back slammed against one of the room's walls so hard he was seeing galaxies. Without so much as twitching a muscle, she had thrown him twenty feet across the room into a wall, knocking the wind out of him so fast that for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

Hiss. Palido chose that moment to walk in.

"Good morning Kurosaki-san. I imagine your sleep was restful?" he said, a hint of a smile on his pale lips.

"How… did… how did she...." he managed to wheeze out as he lay spread-eagled on the floor, trying to catch his breath, his hunger forgotten.

"How did she throw you across the room without so much as batting an eyelid?" Palido asked, the smile no longer a mere hint. "That is, I believe, only one of a multitude of questions you want answered, and they all will be, in due time." He glanced at the girl. "Though I do agree that it was a bit excessive of her."

She didn't even blink.

Turning back to Ichigo, he kept talking. "First we will address the most pertinent issue at hand, that of your fractured memory. However, before we can begin the task of rebuilding your memory, we need an idea of the foundation we're working with. We need to know how much he left behind." He paced toward Ichigo, slowly drawing his short sword.

"Who's "he?"" Ichigo asked, picking himself and the pieces of his pride up off the floor. The question was purely for Palido's benefit. He had no interest in what he was talking about.

He couldn't get over being manhandled that way. How'd a girl done that? There was a lot he didn't remember or understand about himself, but if he'd held his own against those monsters, he at least knew he wasn't a pushover.

"I am referring to the Laughing Man." Ichigo stiffened at the name. A strange sensation, like ice pouring down his back then seeping into his skin and bones, chilled him to the core. What meaning did that name hold?

***

He leaned against the bars of his prison, a beaten man. He had no strength with which to shout. He could barely lift his head to look out of the cell, let alone bang on the bars. It was no use. There was no one coming. No one could hear him. Not Zangetsu, not even his Hollow. He was alone.

Then he heard it. A weird sound, like an oddly detuned windchime floated towards him, heralding the arrival of the hated Laughing Man. A half-second later he was with him in the cell.

"Hello Ichi-kun," he said in that infuriatingly musical tone of his, mocking him. "What's all this noise for? You do know that you're all alone down here." He'd vanished from where he'd been and was now standing behind Ichigo, his mouth to his ear. "So very alone."

In a burst of energy born of hate, Ichigo spun around, his fist cocked to deliver a hook that would tear the bastard's face off. But he turned to face empty air. The Man had vanished again, and now grinned at him from behind the cell's bars. It was all Ichigo could do to keep from spitting in his face. He wanted so badly to break down the bars and tear that infuriating grin off his face.

"Let me remind you that this is entirely your fault. You were the one who came to me for help, and now that I'm giving it, this is how you repay me? Tsktsk. I am most disappointed." He laughed a small laugh and turned, walking away from him.

"I just wanted some answers! I didn't ask for this! Let me out! LET ME OUT NOW!!"

It was no use. He was already gone.

***

Palido eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Ichigo's reaction to the name was not lost on him.

"You remember the name?" he asked him.

"Yes… and no. I don't remember the name as much as I remember how it makes me feel… like ice down my back," he said. "I don't understand. Should I remember?"

"Quite frankly, you should, but I would be amazed if you did. The Laughing Man makes no mistakes." He pointed his zanpakutou at Ichigo. "Do you want to remember?" he asked him.

"The hell! Of course I do! I need to know who I am! Why the hell I'm here! Who that "Laughing Man" guy is and what he has to do with everything! I need to know!"

Palido merely gazed at him, his eyes reduced to thin slits. Any trace of a smile was gone. He was as serious as death, the tip of his zanpakutou inching closer and closer to Ichigo's forehead.

"Do you really? Bear in mind that I can only show you the door. You, must open, and walk through it. What is hidden may just be better off if it is left so. You may not like what you see, Kurosaki-san. Are you sure?" The blade stopped an eighth of an inch from his forehead.

Ichigo slowly drew his breath and exhaled coolly, letting out his doubts and fears with the expired air. He didn't remember much about himself. All he knew was that he was something called a Shinigami, wore weird clothes and was a hell of a fighter. He knew that running from the truth was as futile as trying to sell water to a well. Besides, the truth had a way of coming back to bite you in the ass, and he was no coward. No matter what, he couldn't -wouldn't- run from the truth. He would face it head on.

"Yes. I am."

The Apenado sighed and let go of his blade. "So be it."

The black blade hung in the space between them like a man on gallows, awaiting its master's command. It was so close that the anticipation of its touch was as real as if its cool tip was pressed against his forehead, colder than ice, sharper than a needle.

"The task of regaining your memories is a painful one, but my zanpakutou will be there to help you. [Unravel.] Estruendo."

The point of the blade sped through Ichigo forehead and out the back of his skull so fast he didn't even feel it. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell over forwards.

Palido turned around and began walking out of the room. He glanced at the tall, dark-haired girl before leaving. "Stay with him until he wakes up, Terrestra," he said as he walked out of the room, leaving her to watch over Ichigo.

He lay there as unmoving as a corpse, his body functions reduced almost to nil. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, where they could see nothing. Not that it mattered. Right now, what he could see was far more important, and more disturbing than the monotony of his white confinement.

===End Chapter Two