This story is not Beta'd past the first chapter, so be patient with me please. I am having a bit of trouble controlling my tense usage, and so I'm sure a few places will be a bit off.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Lies of The Beautiful

I should have known better. Really. I think sometimes my brain just goes into stupid mode for the fun of seeing my reaction later on down the road.

And now… just look at me now. Jumping around, dodging, countering. I don't know why he is doing it. I mean, hell, he just woke up for God's sake and he's already reopening some of the wounds that Urahara had tried to close.

And he is coming at me with a vengeance. I don't get it. I'd already beaten him once, so why is he so intent on coming at me again and again and again? Maybe he can sense it, the weakness that has started crumbling me from the inside out. The weakness that started with a pair of thankful brown eyes and a last ditch attack that has left me stripped of the power I used to have.

He's absolutely furious. I don't think he's even realized that he's in the Human world yet, let alone that he is trapped in some underground training facility until we let him go. It was an instantaneous reaction. He shifted, his eyes opened and moved around, and in a flurry of motion he was up and on me like a freaking bat out of hell. Or an angry wild cat. Yeah, a cat. That works.

I don't know why I'm thinking of what to compare him to right now. He doesn't have his sword…Pantera? I don't know where it is, it wasn't with him when he had materialized out of nowhere and fell on top of me, and he sure doesn't seem to care about not having it. His maddened eyes are wide and heated in fury and his wild hair flies around his head as he ducks and jabs and tries to push in between my defenses. I haven't even drawn Zangetsu. There's no real reason to. Although he is a flurry of motion he is too worn out from his body trying to heal itself to be of much danger.

For some reason that is depressing. Here I was, hoping he would bring back some excitement in my life. Some fighting spirit that I think I lost whenever I lost contact with the Old Man and that psychotic Hollow in my head. So much for that. I can't help but look towards his abdomen where the worst of his wounds seem to have reopened and is now bleeding through the white bandaging wrapped securely around his waist. Well, what a waste of time and effort.

I'm still thinking about what a waste of time it is whenever I'm caught off guard. I go to absently block a well-aimed kick at my head and miss the fact that it's a feint and suddenly I am splayed out on the ground, looking up at the fake blue sky with a growling opponent standing over me, a foot on my chest pressing my ribcage down against my lungs.

Well, that's alright. I look up at him, waiting, almost bored. It'd be nice if he is the one that kills me now. I deserve it for not paying attention and, after all, when we had battled our few times before this I had actually been challenged to do all I could do. He had pushed me past the limits I thought I had. He is part of the reason why I knew, no matter what, that I could beat Aizen. Too bad that belief hadn't been enough for me to kill him, but Aizen is imprisoned now and Gin is dead and so is Tosen. So, threat gone. Really I do owe the man above me an awful lot, even though he is an enemy and I am pretty sure that I am about to die. I am probably looking at him like Aizen looked at me. I can feel it in my blank expression. Yes, I'm ready to go. Yes, you can kill me. It's alright. It's a good thing. I don't blame you.

Then that insane face is twisting in disgust and the man is hopping a few feet away from me, watching me with a mocking grin on his face. And as I sit up slowly and look at him he pokes at his own bleeding midsection idly while his blazing eyes gaze at me in contempt.

"Yer really pathetic, ya know? Can't even put up a real fuckin' fight anymore, can you, stupid shinigami. Ain't even worth the fuckin' effort if you don't even try to fight back."

Ain't even worth the fuckin' effort…

I stare at him. He stares at me for as long as he can before he snorts in his disappointment and seems to finally notice his surroundings, his fingers falling away from the torturous poking that has only made it bleed more.

"The fuck am I?" He grumbles the words to himself, almost distractedly, but he doesn't seem all that angry any more. In fact he seems to be treating me as if he doesn't even have the time of day for me, as if I am not even worth-

Ain't even worth the fuckin' effort…

I feel something then. It's the first time I've felt anything in so long that for a second I mistake it for a simple stomach ache. And then it begins to grow and get more intense and suddenly I feel as if I might explode with it. And then, then I recognize it.

Ain't even worth the fuckin' effort…

I welcome it. I welcome it with such an eagerness that it explodes from me in the form of a growled curse, my body up and off of the ground before my mind can process exactly what it is I am doing. And then I am on him, drinking in the sensation of my newly found rage, my teeth bared in a silent snarl as I rip out Zangetsu.

That mad glint has returned to his eyes, that feral grin slipping out to nearly crack his face in half. It's insane, that sharp toothed grin of his. It brings a feverish gleam to his eyes that makes them even brighter than they already are, his body reacting almost instantly to dodge out of the way of my shikai.

He's laughing now. It's a maniacal sound that causes shivers to run down my spine in fearful excitement and expectation. And then it's there, that sword of his, and I have no idea where it has come from but I don't care because I'm drunk off of the feel of something other than nothing, drunk off of the feel of the fury thrumming through my body.

And I'm being reckless. I can see it in every swing of my sword, every half assed attempt at defense offered every time his sword cuts too close. I don't care; I can't care. I'm floating on this exhilarating cloud of danger and fear and excitement and I don't know why I feel this way but it's clear that the other is feeling the same, his mouth opening wide to let out a cackle of unadulterated joy.

Our swords spark as they meet and our faces are so close that I can feel his panting breath over my face. It smells of something sharp and cinnamon, not something I am expecting from a Hollow, and his wild eyes are locked onto mine as the whites seem overly pronounced at how wide he has them open.

I move as if to jump back, to give us some distance to start attacking again, but one of his hands darts up and wraps around the back of my blade to pull it closer to him, the tip of it digging right into the bare flesh at the base of his neck. He's smiling again, that insane white smile that must make his cheeks ache with its intensity, and I am inching forward as well until we are so close that the tip of his blade is pressed in the soft spot underneath my jawbone. I feel it rumbling up from my chest then, a rumbling noise that can only be described as a growl, and I let it spill from my lips on a 'Fuck you' as I feel a sting where his sword is pressed up against me.

I didn't think he's smile can get any wider but he proves me wrong and does just that, his body moving so that his flesh is cut with my sword as well, his face flushing with glee as he answers me.

"Yeah, there are those eyes. You ain't right without them eyes."

And we are jumping away from each other at the same time, my gaze riveted on him as he continues to grin and begins to stalk me in a circle. I just pivot on my right foot, watching him, waiting as I feel the thin ribbon of blood trailing down from the new wound of my jaw to soak into the collar of my shinigami robe.

And then I become aware of something, a slow clapping, and we both snap our heads in the direction of the sound. There, as he always seems to be, is Urahara. He is sitting cross legged on top of a rather large rock, fan gone but replaced by that ugly as sin hat, clapping as slow as he pleases and watching up from a good distance away.

"Bravo! Bravo, the both of you. What an excellent way to start out a beautiful day. Exercise does everyone good, except for maybe you there. I will have to try to close up your wounds again, especially that nasty looking one on your torso. Hm, could have done without tearing that one back open. Its hard work you know!"

I flick my eyes back to my opponent and he is already looking back at me too, but for some reason he slowly tucks his sword away in its sheath at his side, crossing his arms over his chest with a disgruntled expression on his face.

"I don' need no fuckin' charity, 'specially from no ex Shinigami Captain." He spits off to the side, gaze lingering off into the distance. It's almost as if he knows he can't go anywhere, as if he has no reason to try to escape. I slowly sheathe my own sword and, after a second, Urahara giggles in that infuriating way.

"Even so! Guests are supposed to be looked after, and so you shall be. Kurosaki-kun? Would you mind being a good little boy and running off to fetch my first aid box? The special one, you know. Ah yes, thank you."

As I move off I don't bother to look at either of them again but I swear I can feel both of them watching me.

….

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