The world felt frozen. And no matter how hard he tried, the heat wouldn't warm him. It started with the bath. The water wasn't warm enough, not warm enough, and he kept making it hotter and hotter, and watched his skin redden and knew it should be burning but it wasn't. It felt cold. No matter what, it felt cold. The only thing that felt hot was when someone touched him, then it just burned and he didn't want it. Every noise made him wince, and he just wanted to sleep it away.

He was broken, defiled by an enemy that he'd failed to defeat. What more could they do to him? He was worthless now, unable to even bring himself to talk to them, his fear shaking him to the core. How could he fight if every time he even thought about his sword, he saw it protruding from his shoulder, the first painful intrusion into his body, no, his entire soul. The swords had ripped everything open, and left him vulnerable, and then he used it against him. It was all blood and pain and he didn't want to think anymore. He couldn't touch a sword and not think about it, he knew. He would see it in his mind, replaying every single time he closed his eyes. Every single time. It never stopped.

He shivered, pulling the blanket up on him again. It was like ice. And even his inner world was frozen and blocked to him. He heard the hollow underneath the ice. But it was vague. Even the thought of what he would say set him on edge. He could imagine the hollow mocking him for his weakness and telling him how stupid he was being. He'd take over. He'd become the king and make Ichigo the horse. No, he didn't want to be that at all. So, he fitfully fought with the blankets. Why couldn't he just tell them he was fine? That he would move past it, it wasn't a big deal, after all, he wasn't dead… But he couldn't. And if he was honest, he would rather be dead than deal with this mess in his mind.

Grimmjow had taken everything from him. His pride, his innocence, his integrity, and his very soul was rent under his claws. His face filled his mind, and he began to despise the color blue. All of it, even the sky insulted him, so he turned away from the windows to stare at the walls. It mocked him in his silence. And in that silence, the dark was encroaching. So inviting, so very inviting. But there was no way to slip into that darkness right now. He couldn't heft Zangetsu, and the old man wouldn't let him do what he wanted anyway. He'd tried to scrub it away, and it just didn't seem to come off him, this horrible filth that had been left on his skin.

So, what was left? If he shut down, then what could they do? He wouldn't have to fight anymore. He'd just stay there, and be a living shell, and somehow, he was okay with that right now. Maybe it would change. Maybe it wouldn't. All he knew that the encompassing darkness and cold was more welcoming than anything before. If he couldn't get warmth into his soul, he'd just let himself freeze all the way and not have to feel anymore. If he didn't speak, he didn't have to change the state of things. So, the answer was so simple. He closed his eyes again, and again his mind was assailed with blue. Fucking blue. He hated it.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Renji stood at the doorway as Ichigo slept, fighting with the covers first. He was well enough to leave the fourth now, and they decided to stay with Byakuya and Rukia would be best at the manor. The whole area was quiet, guarded, and he could be alone if he wanted, but people would be close at hand if he needed them. They had also decided he wasn't to be left alone for even the briefest moments, so several others had been recruited to stay with him, all at least fuku-taichou rank. To leave anyone else with an unstable Ichigo was asking for trouble if something got out of hand. It was safe within the walls, and it was relatively secluded from others. And Byakuya and Rukia would be there, Renji and some of the others too. Maybe sitting by the koi pond would help. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Renji's heart ached for both his friend and Rukia. To be put through such a thing… Soul Society wasn't a perfect place by any means, but to rape another was nearly unheard of to the Shinigami. Beings of such power like the Shinigami felt immune to such assaults, of course. They could defend themselves. However, Ichigo had been put in the horrible position of not being able to do that, of being trapped and having his entire being assaulted. What would that leave of the strong, vibrant person he and Rukia had come to know? And what of Rukia? Renji knew she'd been suffering a low point, feeling she wasn't powerful enough to stand with Renji and Ichigo, both of whom had gained Bankai. Now, to be forced to watch as someone she considered one of her closest friends was violated in the worst way possible… He swallowed hard and walked away. He'd come to try and talk to him again. It was obvious it would not work right now.

After Ichigo had woken up, Unohana went in to tell him that Rukia was taking him to the manor. He just nodded, and followed. His shihakuso had mended itself, his spiritual pressure returning to normal now, but he refused to touch Zangetsu who lay on the table. Rukia asked Renji to bring his sword by later that day. It was strange, considering the relationship Ichigo and Zangetsu had with each other. He still wouldn't touch Rukia, or anyone else for that matter, but he followed her, eyes focused on his feet and ignored everyone that tried to speak to him. He knew some had, but he wasn't going to respond, so it didn't matter anyway. Behind him, he left more than one confused Shinigami.

Finally, they reached the guest room for Ichigo to stay in. Rukia didn't have her sword on her and he was glad of that. He knew if her sword had been there he wouldn't have been able to focus and might have run from her. Every sword he saw made him flinch away from the wielder no matter who they were. His mind had connected the events so deeply, even the thought of a sword, even a mundane one, sent shivers down his spine and made him want to crumble into a heap.

"Ichigo, do you want me to bring Zangetsu down for you to have him nearby?" she asked, to which Ichigo's eyes widened and he shook his head emphatically, sitting down on the bed and looking around.

Renji and Rukia exchanged glances then Renji excused himself. Rukia stood nervously by the door. "Um, nii-sama said that lunch will be ready soon, so we should go down to the dining room."

Ichigo nodded and stood up, walking a few steps behind the shorter Shinigami. She was desperately trying not to look at him with the pity welling in her heart. Every time she closed her eyes, the images would assail her and the utter uselessness she had felt. She sat him down at the table and sat beside him, waiting for her brother to come out. He did and sat opposite Ichigo, glancing at him and his sister. His downcast eyes were enough for Byakuya to wonder how deeply this was going to affect him.

Silently they were served lunch. Ichigo didn't really notice what he was eating, he just did so automatically. Byakuya spoke up finally.

"Kurosaki, will you be training with my division while you are here?" he asked.

Ichigo merely responded by shaking his head. Rukia sighed beside him. "Ichigo, you're going to have to talk sometime," she said softly. "Please, it is twice as hard seeing you like this."

Ichigo looked up at her, brows knitted, and stood and left the table, leaving Rukia and Byakuya to watch. "He's not ready yet," Byakuya observed. "You must give him time."

"I don't understand, nii-sama. I just don't understand. Why is he letting this get to him so much?" she asked. "He's supposed to be stronger than this."

Byakuya sighed. "He's doing the best he can. This is hard for him. The violence and the betrayal of what is acceptable on the battlefield is twisted in his mind. For a man like Kurosaki, this blow is worse than any other could have been."

"But, Nii-sama, he's more boy than man, by his own standards. He's sixteen years of age, and already…so shattered," she said with a sigh.

Byakuya nodded. "Someone needs to tell his father he is here and why," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe he can be of assistance."

Rukia frowned and looked at him. "What? Another human? He doesn't even know what Ichigo does?"

Byakuya smiled. The day Ichigo had been brought into the fourth, he had been summoned to a meeting where Ichigo was discussed, and his origin and parentage revealed to the other captains. "Fathers always know. Especially fathers who used to be taichou of division ten," he said standing.

"What?" she gasped. "His father…Isshin…is a Shinigami?"

"He is. His powers have been unsealed. He may be of assistance," he said, walking away.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Ichigo sat by the Koi pond. A week had passed, and he was still alone in his head. He didn't want anyone reaching him, honestly. The week had been haze of people. He knew he was being watched. First Rukia, then Renji. Then it had been Kira who had stayed with him. He found it awkward having him there, knowing that he'd been the one to treat him when he got back initially. Then Isane was there for a bit, then Rukia was again, and Renji. He wished they'd just leave him be. The water in the pond, with the fish, it looked so comforting. It would be like slipping below the water and breathing in and then everything would fade away. He was surprised this morning though when he glanced up to see Shuuhei. Another awkward memory for him. Shuuhei had carried him to the fourth.

He absently skipped a rock across the pond and sighed. He missed Zangetsu desperately at the same time he feared the very sword that represented a part of his own soul. And he missed being able to find his way to his inner world, but the way was blocked. No matter how hard he tried, there was no way into it. He even missed the damn hollow's manic and crazy voice and laughter ringing in his head. Yet, still, he feared what Zangetsu and the hollow would say to him.

"You know, it doesn't matter if you talk or not, Ichigo. Your friends are still your friends. Even if you never lift your Zanpakutō again," Shuuhei said from where he sat on the decking, looking out over the pond.

Ichigo nodded and skipped another rock. There was a level of unease associated with Shuuhei that had nothing to do with what happened. Or rather it had a lot to do with it. Shuuhei had been Tōsen's fuku-taichou. One of the traitors. One of Aizen's. Aizen. Aizen who sent Grimmjow after him. Aizen who ordered Grimmjow to break him. His mind began to spiral and the vision in front of him wavered and he realized that the thoughts were spinning out of control as the blue sky assaulted him. He pressed the heels of both hands into his eyes and whimpered, a pitiful sound if he was even aware of it. He pulled both knees into his chest and rocked back and forth, holding his hands to his eyes, trying to close out the sky. Blue, too much blue…

"Ichigo?" a voice broke through the cacophony of sounds that were spinning in the darkness. "Ichigo, come on, hey…"

The words led him out of the darkness and he put his hands down and looked to see Shuuhei was kneeling beside him now. He gripped his knees and pulled them in, panting for breath. He blinked slowly and sighed.

"What happened? Was it something I said?" he asked, a worried look crossing his face.

Shuuhei wasn't sure about this, even less sure than Kira. He'd been asked because he was young, and had be the one to bring him to fourth. But because of how unstable he was, even without his sword, he was capable of severely hurting someone. So, whoever stayed to keep an eye on him had to be able to handle him in a fight. That meant third seats or above only. Ichigo defeated two captains already, and he was more powerful now. Even without his Zangetsu, he was dangerous. But more than that, Shuuhei didn't know him. Not really. He'd met him, heard stories, but unlike Rukia and Renji, or his human friends, he didn't know much about him at all.

Ichigo sighed shaking his head and pointed to the sky. Shuuhei looked up. It was a clear day, the sky a vibrant blue…and then he remembered. Grimmjow…he was the one with the blue hair. Blue.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Ichigo shook his head and buried his head instead the black fabric of his hakama. Shuuhei didn't know what to do. Should he leave him here or get him inside? No, distraction would be better. He'd known a person or two in his time that had been traumatized from battle. Maybe this wasn't so different?

"Hey, how about we go walk around a bit? Might work off some of your anxiety. Rukia said you sit here most the time," he said.

Surprisingly, he looked up and nodded once, standing carefully. Shuuhei smiled a little and let him lead the way. He watched where he walked. He stayed off the main paths and kept away from the areas that weren't covered in grass. He was avoiding the sand, Shuuhei thought to himself. He also stayed away from the areas that others could easily sneak up on him from.

So, began their routine. Every time Shuuhei came to him, they would walk instead of sitting by the pond. Shuuhei eventually, growing weary of silence, filled it with stories of the things he'd done since becoming a Shinigami. He even spoke of his being saved by the captain of the ninth, Kensei-taichou, and how he'd disappeared from Soul Society. Shuuhei noted a soft smile that crossed his face when he mentioned the name. He wondered if he knew who Kensei was briefly. There was no way, he was gone, dead, most likely. He confided in the silent boy how he felt after the betrayal and how much Tōsen's defection had affected him. He told him of his days in the academy, his exploits with the other Shinigami. He even told him about the fact that besides Kira, these days most the other Shinigami had little to do with him because of his relationship with Tōsen.

In a strange way, as the days then weeks passed, Shuuhei felt somehow connected to him now, even though he didn't say anything at all. There was no judgment when he looked at him with his lost brown eyes and Shuuhei had to resist the urge to hug the boy because he looked to desperately need it all the damned time.

The truth of the matter was, Ichigo had no idea what was happening to him. He had tried to close off from everyone, but they kept trying to push their way in anyway. Little had been heard from Aizen since their return. He felt so used because that is exactly what had happened. Aizen had used him to make a point to Soul Society, and what a point it had been. He was scared, and afraid he'd descend into madness at any point.

Of course, a certain Hollow that shared room and board in his soul wasn't about to let that happen. Yes, this hollow had decided he'd had enough already. And he was going to fight to the surface and King was either going to do something, or he was going to take control and make him the horse.

It happened to be Shuuhei who was there when the hollow had decided he'd had enough. They were making their usual walk around the grounds when Ichigo stumbled. Shuuhei resisted the urge to reach out to him. Then he shook his head violently and dropped to his knees. Shuuhei ran in front of him to see what was happening and as he watched, his eyes began to change, the whites bleeding into black, the brown turning gold and a white foam flowed from mouth and nose forming a half hollow mask over the side of his face and extending over his entire forehead. Then he cackled, the voice high and shrill.

"Fuck, king," he said, the sound reverberating around him. "Gonna make ya mah horse…"

He stood slowly, reaching at his back and frowning. "Fuck, what ya do with Zangetsu…" he said, looking around. "Goddammit, Ichigo," he said. "What the fuck…"

Shuuhei stood and reached for his Zanpakutō, which wasn't there. Ichigo's face turned to him and the strange eyes rolled. "Ah, chill the fuck out, sixty-nine, now where's his fuckin' sword?"

"Who are you?" he asked, knowing that he wasn't Ichigo.

He turned and tilted his head back and giggled. "The fuck you think I am? The hollow."

"What hollow?" he asked, frowning. "What do you mean the hollow?"

Not-Ichigo snorted and rolled his head on his shoulders. "The one that fuckin' pays rent in Ichigo's soul. You didn't know? He's fucked up, ya know. Half Shinigami bastard that he is…and then I'm living in here too, fighting his fuckin' ass for control every step of the way."

Shuuhei blinked. "What?"

The hollow Ichigo smiled. "Ya should ask Byakuya. I got out on his ass, but Ichigo, pussy, wouldn't let me kill him, and took over again. I warned him not to let me get control, and what does he do? Runs off the Heuco Mundo. What the fuck were ya thinkin' king? Then everyone's fuckin' surprised that he gets…hurt…"

He stopped and lurched to the side, vomiting violently into the bushes suddenly. "Holy fuckin' shit, goddammit!" he cursed, staggering backward. "Fuck, fuck…"

Shuuhei was no less on guard but approached, steadying him. "What happened?"

The Hollow Ichigo shook his head. "Fuckin' unlocked the memories…that…fuck that bastard's sick," he said, reaching his arms across each other and rubbing his shoulders that still bore the marks of the swords. He the stared down and undid the obi thoughtfully and Shuuhei stepped back.

"What…?" Shuuhei asked, confused.

Hollow Ichigo shook his head. "I gotta see…" he said absently. "I gotta see if he…fuck."

He had rolled down the black hakama until the carved six could be seen above his pubic line, nestled in the top of the fine orange hair trailing down his lower stomach. It was an almost bruised looking mark, a purplish red unlike the actual scars that would fade. He shifted and ran hands over the still bright red marks on the hips. Shuuhei hadn't seen the actual injuries at the time, there had been too much blood.

He held his hand over the mark, and Shuuhei noticed that Ichigo's skin had gone several shades lighter, and his nails were turning dark. When he glanced up the mask was encroaching on the other side of his face. The hollow was stronger…Ichigo wasn't fighting him. There was a flare of reiatsu from Hollow Ichigo's hand and the six flashed brightly. He looked up at Shuuhei, and replaced the obi but dropped the kusodo and turned to the dark-haired man.

"Where else? There's another mark."

Shuuhei nodded and pointed to his shoulder, the place Grimmjow had bitten. He gently touched the teeth marks and shook his head. "Fucking hell, King…" he muttered. Then he blinked.

"King?" he whispered, and looked around. "Fuck. Oh fuck."

Shuuhei shook his head. "What's wrong?"

The hollow reached up and snapped the mask off his face. It crumbled away, and Shuuhei stood there staring at the whiter faced version of Ichigo. His hair was slowly fading out from orange into white. Shuuhei frowned as he watched the change speed up until the skin was entirely white. The hollow version of Ichigo licked his lips and Shuuhei realized his tongue was blue.

"He's gone…I can't…I can't find him…" Hollow Ichigo said, blinking. "I think he just gave up to me…"

Just then Byakuya came out and stopped cold, drawing Senbonzakura and pointing it at the white version of Ichigo.

"Whoa there, cherry blossom," the hollow Ichigo said, holding up his hands. "Promise I'm not gonna kick yer ass this time…"

"Fuku-taichou? What has happened?" Byakuya asked.

Shuuhei shook his head. "Ichigo, he stumbled, then his eyes changed and this mask showed up, then he started talking and then as he did, he started changing into this…"

"He gave the fuck up, that's what he did, goddammit King, I'm the fuckin' horse!" he growled. "Get the fuck back up here!"

He closed his eyes and then growled in frustration. "Dammit! Let me back in! Ichigo, fuck! Let me back in!" He was pacing in circles now. "Fucking hell, Zangetsu has to be fucking drowning in there by now, dammit! Where's his Zanpakutō?"

Byakuya looked like he didn't want to give it to him. "Look, if you want the bastard back, I've got to talk to Zangetsu, and that's hard to do since Ichigo's stupid fucking ass has somehow fucking blocked me out of our Inner World!"

"I'll get it," said Shuuhei, leaving the two of them and going to Ichigo's room where Zangetsu had been put inside a closet.

Byakuya stared at him. "I thought you wanted control of his body. Why do you want him to return?"

By now, Ichigo's black Shihakuso had started to reverse colors into the white that the hollow usually wore. "Yeah, but not fuckin' like this. I mean, fuck, I can't live like this. You think he's the only one affected by what the fucker did? Hollows, there isn't really a no for most of us, but he's fucking human. Even I'm tainted by the emotions and shit. And if he stays locked in the goddamned inner world and I'm stuck out here…fuck. This isn't the order of things," he said, growling again.

Shuuhei came back and handed him the sword. The Hollow Ichigo sat cross-legged with the sword across his lap and closed his eyes for a moment. Not a minute later he opened them with a scowl. "Fuck."

"You say that a lot. Do you not have more eloquent expressions?" Byakuya asked.

"Fuck you, cherry blossom pussy. No, fuck describes this. I can't reach Zangetsu. I'm completely blocked out. At this rate, the body will deteriorate. And we'll fuckin' die."