A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with another chapter! So, I want to clear a few things up that some reviewers asked about (I love you guys, so don't be shy if something isn't clear!).

First, this story will not focus on any particular pairing, at least not any more then the manga itself does. Orihime still has a crush on Ichigo, Renji still likes Rukia, and everyone else is still confused and/or overtly vague in their affections.

Second, this story takes place after the Winter War (I'll explain in more detail as the plot moves forward), and Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuiru were at least minimally involved.

Also, a short but sweet S.O.S.: Hichigo's accent is giving me grief. I think I finally managed it all right, but if something is wrong with it, please tell me and I'll try to fix it up some more.

And a HINT: for those dying to know where I'm steering this crazy thing, pay close attention for subtle foreshadowing in this chapter and remember the summery.

And without further ado, please enjoy:

Cruel to be Kind: Chapter two: The Games They Play

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"Have you done as you said?"

"Yeah. It will be finished soon."

"You seem uneasy. Remember that though it may seem unkind, it is imperative that the matter is resolved."

"I know. That's the only reason I let you drag me along with this scheme of yours, but at this point shouldn't we at least tell-?"

"No."

"I don't-"

"No. I forbid it. He gave up the right to know our movements when he left here."

"That hardly-"

"If you tell him, you compromise all that has been done. It's far too late for second thoughts now."

"…Yes."

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"Come on, Ichigo," Isshin smiled into his son's scowling face, "Daddy's going to put you under for a little while!"

Ichigo pressed himself further back into his mattress and furtively wondered if his father had finally cracked. "You say that as if I should be excited. Besides, why exactly would you do that?"

"Stupid son!" the man exclaimed before pounding the boy on the shoulder, "In preparation for your doctor's visit, of course!"

"Oh crap. He really has lost it," Ichigo muttered, inching ever so slowly away from the deranged man. Louder he added, "And why would you knock me out just so you could do a check up?"

His father peered at him strangely, "Well…I wouldn't."

Ichigo sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. That teenage reflex out of the way, he turned back to look at his father. However, one glance had him jumping three feet in the air and—upon landing—scrambling back against his headboard as Isshin proudly presented him with a four-inch syringe.

"What the fuck is that!?"

Isshin's smile was back full force. "A mild sedative!" He contemplated the needle for a minute, rubbing at his stubble with his free hand. He shrugged, "Depending on your definition of 'mild,' anyway."

"But you just said you didn't need to knock me out!"

"No, I didn't." A large hand attached itself to the teen's forehead. "Ichigo, are you feeling all right? Is your fever coming back?"

Angrily batting the hand away, Ichigo glared mutinously and muttered something to the tune of, "And he says I'm the one with brain damage…"

Isshin put his hands on his hips and shook his head at his son's foolishness. "My dear, silly, First Born, I said I wouldn't have to knock you out if I was the one doing the check up. But I'm not. So night-night!"

Once again working—and failing—to remove himself from his father's groping hands, the boy tried to reason with the psychopath. Apparently he forgot who he was dealing with.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! What do you mean you're not the one doing the check up? Who's doing it? And why do I—Get that thing the fuck away from me!—why do I need to be unconscious for a medical exam?" he shot off quickly.

Isshin pulled back slightly, just enough to study his son's face. "One of the doctors that was in charge of the trial is making rounds to all of the surviving patients. They want to compile a list of any complications the drug caused." Isshin's face grew uncharacteristically grave, his eyes steely. "Not that I care what they want for whatever's left of their research. What's important is that the man who is coming has already visited several other patients, and he should recognized if you are expressing any side effects that other patients are displaying that I'm too close to the situation to see."

Ichigo met his father's eyes, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine."

"Good! Night-night, my manly son!" Isshin tittered happily before lunging at the convalescent boy, needle aimed and ready.

"Wait!"

"Wha-at?" The man whined, impatiently bouncing from foot to foot.

"You didn't tell me why I need to be unconscious. Wouldn't it make more sense if he could, I don't know, talk to me instead of just watch me sleep?"

"Hmm. You do make a good point. But at the same time-" Isshin's eyes shifted to focus just behind Ichigo's head and he gasped, "What is that!?"

Ichigo whipped around but saw nothing. "What's what-" he began, but then felt a tight, burning pinch in his upper arm and everything went black.

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Isshin tenderly lowered his son's limp form back into his bed and ruffled the boy's bright hair fondly. That done, he straightened and spoke into the empty air, "He raised a good point. Did we really have to knock him out?" Isshin's face turned comically upset, "These sedatives are expensive, you know?"

The closet door behind Isshin banged open, and Urahara Kisuke casually stepped out. "It was the only way," the store manager intoned gravely.

Isshin turned to the other man and blinked several times. "Really?"

"Nah," he waved his hand dismissively, "I just love making an entrance." Then the man's shoulders drooped, and he sighed deeply. "It really is for the best though. He shouldn't come into contact with anyone who he knows solely through his interactions with Soul Society."

"I know that!" Isshin snapped, "That's why we've told him half the things we have and half the things we're going to. And why I…" He trailed off, his sudden, instinctive anger slowly draining from his face. The father let out a long, slow sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I just want this to be over with. The sooner it's taken care of, the sooner we can try to put it all behind us. My children deserve better than the hell they've been put through."

Isshin covered his eyes with one tired hand. "With that in mind, are you sure this is for the best? Having him regain partial memories… Is the pain it will cause him really worth it?"

Urahara moved to stand at Isshin's side and stared down at the orange-haired teen laid out on the bed. "Unfortunately, it's necessary. You know your son, Isshin. I'd say breaking the seal we put on his memories is utterly 'impossible,' but that word doesn't exist for him. If he's determined to get his memories back, I wouldn't put it past him to do it. Making him believe that he is recovering is the best way to deter him from actually doing so."

With that the shopkeeper turned to Isshin with a mad gleam in his eye that would make any half-sane father uncomfortable. "Well, let's get to work."

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"Ya really gotta stop wanderin' in her', King. Ever'body went through all that trouble—'cause ya were too fuckin' weak—and yer gonna go an' ruin it all."

Hichigo stood staring off into the far distance of his (literally) topsy-turvy world, his back toward his recently arrived king.

"Besides, I'm gettin' tired of ya droppin' in ta visit withou' callin' first, King. Ya never know, I migh' 'ave been busy." He chuckled, a high, parched sound.

The hollow made no move to turn and look at the Other, but the sun burned bright and harsh in his eyes and the wind blew in small cyclones down below their perch. It seemed King was in an odd mood.

"King, did ya ever…" the hollow went quiet and balled his hands into fists, then released them with a rough snort of air. "Ah, wha' the hell. Ya don' 'ave a fuckin' clue wha's goin' on anyway, I can add ta it a little and ge' m' kicks.

"So," he started again, "now tha' ya don' know wha's what, I'm gonna tell ya somethin'.

"We're more the same than ya believe, King." He paused, considering his words. "Well, than ya believed before…" He gestured vaguely with one flippant hand. Then the hollow snorted. "Although I suppose the way ya look at us is m' fault.

"Ya see, I'm differen' than Zangetsu, and I don' mean 'cause he's shinigami and I'm hollow. See, Zangetsu is a sword." The pale boy rolled his eyes, "Seems obvious, I know. Bu' he's a sword. Yer sword maybe, a piece of ya that reflects yer will to fight, but still jus' a sword.

"Me? I'm differen'. I'm more than that." A strange smile grew over his ghostly face as he watched the slowly rolling clouds, and as he spoke his voice slowly lost the accent he affected. "I didn't lie to you when I said I was a piece of your power—you do steal power from me, you bastard—but I'm not like the old man because I'm not a piece of you. I'm all of you. Just, you know, if you were a hollow. " He kicked a small piece of rubble off the edge of his perch and watched it's tumbling flight down to the ground far below. "I'm as much 'Kurosaki Ichigo' as the hollow that was Inoue's brother was 'Inoue Sora.'

"What I'm saying is: I have just as much right to 'life' and control of this body as you do, King. Because I am you. Maybe not a you that you like much, but that doesn't change anything.

"And you don't have to worry about your friends around me—don't even mention Yuzu, Karin, and Goat Chin—because they're my friends too. I care about them just as much. Hollow's still love, you know? That's why lesser hollows go after people they cared about in life. If they didn't love them any more, there'd be nothing tying them together. And I'm not some wimpy lesser hollow that can't think past his own stomach. I might not want to control myself most of the time, but I damn well can."

With that said he came back to himself with a start and snapped out in his usual drawl, "So I'll let ya 'ave this time, King. I won' throw ya off yer throne when ya don' even know yer on it." He huffed, "I s'pose I'm more like ya than even I thought, 'cause takin' down an opponent from behind don' sit righ' with me."

His fists clenched and his reiatsu spiked. "Bu' don' think this is the end, King-y. Like I said, I'll let ya 'ave this time, bu' the moment ya die there's gonna be a new horse 'round he'e. Got me?"

After several moments of steady silence, Hichigo snorted, "Well, wha' do ya think, King? I'd'a figured a bigmouth like you would 'ave more ta say." When no answer was forthcoming, Hichigo slowly turned around and looked at where Ichigo lay spread eagle on the glass floor, staring up at the sky. He hadn't moved since he'd arrived to his inner world.

"…Yer all drugged up, aren'cha ya, King?" Hichigo asked, resigned. The orange haired boy just smiled up at his pale counterpart, happy as a proverbial clam.

"For tha' crap to mess with ya in yer inner world… Tha's defiantly no ordinary sedative." The hallow considered Ichigo seriously for a moment, then squatted down to lean over his prone form. "Bet'cha it's from tha' bastard shopkeeper's stash o' goodies."

"Ha, ha…muffins," Ichigo slurred out—his first words of the whole encounter.

"Damn, how much o' tha' shit did th' old man give ya, anyway?" A decidedly girlish giggle was all the answer he got.

"Too much, apparently." Hichigo bent lower over his king, assessing his silly grin and dilated pupils. "Way too much."

"You're purrty," Ichigo announced. "An' white," he added, then came up short, as if coming to a sudden, life-altering realization about the world and everything in it. "And you're white! Like a kitty!" Ichigo pouted up at his Other and lifted a hand, grasping ineffectually at the air several inches in front of the hollow's face, "I want a kitty…"

Hichigo stared in gape-jawed horror for several long moments. "…Damn ya, Hat-an'-Clogs! Damn ya ta Hell!" Hichigo shouted and shook a fist up at the uncaring sky, before he surrendered himself to the inevitable and slumped dejectedly.

"M' whole speech was wasted…"

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Ishida wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and glanced over to the others.

Chad stood in a defensive position at the back of the group, rubbing his thoroughly worked arm and looking for the next hollow to target. Orihime stood a few feet in front of him, healing the painful but harmless scratches Mizuiru had gotten on his palms when the latest hollow—a cat-like monstrosity—had thrown him. The Quincy turned to look over his other shoulder and groaned audibly when he realized Keigo was poking what was left of the slowly disintegrating beast with a stick.

"This isn't good enough," Tatsuki griped to no one in particular.

"Tatsuki, why do you say that?" Orihime, now finished with her healing, stepped closer to the other girl. "We've defeated five hollows already tonight. I think that's more than we ever have before at one time."

Tatsuki just shook her head without even looking at the other girl. "That's only because there are more hollows around then there used to be."

It was true. The number of hollows in Karakura had been increasing ever since Ichigo's reiatsu levels had begun to rise when he first met Rukia. But their presence had more than doubled since…

Ichigo had so much raw reiatsu at this point that it saturated the air around the whole town, and—now that he didn't even remember what reiatsu was—it went completely uncontrolled and unrestrained, broadcasting to every hollow in sniffing distance that not only was there a particularly tasty little morsel nearby, but that it was an easy target.

"And," Tatsuki continued, "while we're all over here, there's probably another of the suckers lurking across town."

Ishida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and asked, "Then what do you propose we do?"

"Split up!" The girl shouted, "Cover more ground! Even now that you're deigning to involve us in these hunts, you're still treating us like babies! How are we supposed to protect Ichigo and keep these slimy little bastards away from him if we don't even form a perimeter around his house?"

"I agree with Tatsuki," Keigo added, voice even and low. When Orihime opened her mouth to speak, his quiet resolve shattered and he half screamed, "We're Ichigo's friends too! Except for Chad, we've been Ichigo's friends longer! So maybe we're not as strong as you guys, it doesn't mean we're helpless!"

Mizuiru nodded his agreement.

"Well…maybe we could split up," Orihime said, before quickly amending, "into pairs."

Tatsuki shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't expect even you to try babying us like this, Orihime." Her face grew sad, "Do you really think I'm that weak?"

"That has nothing to do with it," Chad broke in quietly, and like every time he bothered to speak, everyone else shut their mouths to listen. "Ichigo isn't weak, and look what happened to him." The tall boy held up a hand for silence when it seemed Tatsuki was going to protest. "Even if you don't end up on the front lines of a war like he did, going on these hunts is still getting involved in that same world. And going after weak hollows like these ones is how Ichigo started too."

All the fight drained out of the feisty girl at that. She gave in with a muttered, "Fine."

"Each pair should consist of one senior and one junior member, " said Ishida, trying to get back on track.

"Senior…Junior… Is this a club now?" Keigo asked, confused. Then his eyes lit up, and he exclaimed, "Oh! Let's get jackets!"

Mizuiru smacked him.

"Thank you, Mizuiru. Now then, let's split up-"

"We already have, Ishida-san," Mizuiru called out helpfully from where he stood at Chad's side. Orihime and Tatsuki were already a half a block away.

"Later," Chad called over his shoulder.

Mizuiru chuckled and added, "Have fun, you two!"

"Wait!" Ishida cried to their retreating backs. When they didn't so much as pause, Ishida turned resignedly to face his fate.

"So, about those jackets…"

The bespectacled boy sighed and started looking for a hollow to feed himself to. It would be a far kinder end then facing this.

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"I brought you dinner," Yuzu called as she pushed her brother's door open, tray of food in hand, "and a muffin for dessert!" Once in the room, she paused to stare before distractedly placing the tray on his desk. "Ichi-nii… What are you doing?"

"Oh, ah… nothing, Yuzu." Ichigo's eyes shifted about wildly for an excuse. After a disheartening moment of realizing he wouldn't be finding one, he tried lamely, "Just…hanging out?"

"That was lame, Ichi-nii," the small girl giggled, then climbed up onto the boy's bed and reached out of the window to grab Ichigo's hand and help him back inside the house from where he had been clinging desperately to the gutter.

"What were you doing out there?" She asked as she forced the older boy back under the warm covers of his bed.

The teen rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, but I think I'm going to crack if I have to stay in this bed much longer." His brow furrowed in thought, "It's funny. I remember jumping out of windows being a lot easier than that…"

"You're still recovering. You can't do crazy stuff like climbing out windows until after you're feeling better," she said sternly, one hand on her hip, the other shaking a finger at Ichigo's nose.

Ichigo smiled and ruffled his sister's hair before conceding defeat to the unofficial—yet unopposed—taskmaster of the Kurosaki household. He let himself collapse limply into his pillows and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath.

Yuzu's hand dropped, and she stood at her brother's side for a moment, just looking at his tired face before coming back to herself and rushing to the desk to grab his dinner and settle it carefully over his lap.

"Eat your food before you go back to sleep, okay? And no more climbing out the window. Daddy's not even here to drive you to it."

Ichigo chuckled and mumbled something indistinguishable around the large bite of rice in his mouth, then swallowed and made a shooing motion with his hand. Yuzu shook her head as she turned to leave, but giggled again when Ichigo nearly choked around a, "Thanks, Yuzu!"

The small girl made her way back down to the kitchen, tiptoeing past her own room so she wouldn't disturb Karin. Her sister hadn't been taking all of this too well…

Once she stepped foot through the kitchen door what was left of Yuzu good mood crashed down around her as her eyes came to rest on the boxes of pills laying innocuously on the counter.

She hurried over to put the extra pills back in their boxes for tomorrow and brushed the counter clean of any powder that had escaped from the portion she had crushed up and put in Ichigo's food.

Yuzu worked quickly and efficiently—because to do anything else would be irresponsible. And maybe… maybe if she put the pills away and covered up the fact that she had been giving Ichi-nii medicine to make him sick it would be like it never happened, like it hadn't been happening since he woke up, and like it wasn't going to keep happening until Daddy said to stop.

The young girl bit her lip and tried very hard to push back her tears. Even if she didn't like doing it, even if it made her stomach clench with the feeling that she was betraying her big brother, she knew she had to do it.

If this little thing was all she had to do to ensure she never had to see her Ichi-nii like that again, then she would do it without regrets.

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Coming Next Chapter: Karin, flashes of misleading memory, and why a very bored teenager is a very bad thing.

(In other words, the action is heading your way!)