I am disheartened. Three reviews for the last chapter severely altered my enthusiasm to write this fic. Anyways, to business. I apologize that this chapter is short, but it is a prelude to the final showdown.
No lemons (or strawberries) in this chapter.
Picking up the Pieces
Hands ran through orange locks, pulling the thick strands as they worked into the back of his head. Fingers tightened on his scalp to prevent his thoughts from going further. He could feel the crunch of the orange hair in his grip, the strain on his skin painfully protesting his own pull.
Rukia found them after…the incident. She had arrived just as Ishida escaped; he could still feel zangetsu pressed against the chest of the Quincy. She had rushed over to him to see if he were alright. Everything hurt; he was left with a cold emptiness in his soul, his body.
She helped him back to the Shoten. He collapsed, unwillingly passing out in a heap on the mattress. After he awoke he then realized –
It had been Uryuu's bed. The sweet cruel irony dug like claws into his heart, the sting in his chest too much to breathe.
Hot tears glided down his cheek. He scraped him away angrily, unwilling to admit how he truly felt. His cheeks burned, he could still feel the path his fingernails made along his skin. Air hitched in his lungs, and he stifled that which he forbade his body to do.
A multitude of people visited him to try and eject the shinigami out of the foul mood he wrapped himself in. Everyone tried words of comfort and support but to no avail. Ichigo remained crumpled in the corner of Uryuu's makeshift bed in Urahara's shoten, unwilling to move.
He sighed again as the images replayed in his mind. It caught him off guard as he drifted to sleep.
Do it, Ichigo…I wasn't meant to live… Fingernails dug into his scalp.
There was a sharp bang on the wood as the door was slid open, revealing that of a small, plush body. How the animal emitted such a ruckus was unfathomable, the slam jolting Ichigo momentarily out of his mental solitude to glare at the lion and the ridiculously unsettling expression on its face.
"TWO DAYS, ICHIGO!" the cotton stuffed figured pointed accusingly. "Two days you've been cooped up in here, wallowing in self misery! What a sorry excuse of a soul reaper you are!" The lion strode deliberately at Ichigo, managing a decent saunter in the pint sized body. A talon on the rounded hand pointed up at him "You could be out there trying to find him! It's your fault he's out there in the first place!" The lion leapt onto Ichigo's much larger frame and began pounding away with fists as well as words.
"You haven't told anybody what happened! You refuse to say ANYTHING! What the hell is wrong with you?!" After several incessant cuffs to the face without a response, the plushy sighed and fell backwards onto the bed.
"Why Ichigo? Why haven't you said anything? Why haven't you tried to let us help?" Kon almost whispered into the air. Redirecting himself, he sat and gazed on Ichigo's still body.
Ichigo's scowl deepened more that it already had been, creasing deep into his forehead. His eyes shifted away from the small furry body. "Go away, Kon." His voice was cracked and raspy, lacking emotion and any warmth.
Kon perked up at the sound. "Spiky, you said somthin'!" The lion spoke, undaunted by the rejection the shinigami stated. He stood quickly and leaned closer to the orange-haired boy. "Where the hell have you been?!"
Ichigo's eyes remained averted. He did not answer.
"Come on, Ichigo! Two days and you finally gave me something! Don't stop now!"
Ichigo didn't speak.
Kon grew furious, his body seemingly red with frustration. "RRRrr! Answer me, you carrot-head!" With a twist of his body, the lion landed a smack square on the jaw with a well placed round-kick. Even in a plush body, Kon's kicks were strong. Ichigo's check bruised and his bottom lip stuck out, pursed in an awkward expression with his pinched brows.
Sighing again, the lion turned away, prepared to leave the room. Its shoulders sagged slightly as it began the trek off of the bed.
A whisper caught his attention. Was it just his imagination?
"It was Uryuu." Ichigo said. His gaze still cast away from Kon's, though he could tell the tears threatened to brim.
Kon froze in place, hoping Ichigo would continue.
"He…said…things. He…did…things…that wasn't…him. Large hands gripped at his knees, trying to hug them closer to his body. They pulled at the cloth on his legs threatening to rip them from wringing the material. "He was there…and I couldn't stop him…" Droplets formed on the cloth of his shirt, darkening the material as it soaked through. "I couldn't save him…"
"Ichigo…what happened to Uryuu?" Kon pressed gently, trying to get any bit of information out of the lucid shinigami; there may be hope to finding Ishida yet.
"I…don't know. I thought it was Jouten, that Jouten took over…but…I don't know." The eyes of the soul reaper had become clouded over, as if revisiting the past. The dark brown orbs pleaded with the plushy as if asking for the meaning of his suffering. It seemed like Ichigo was reverting into his catatonic state.
"No, Ichigo! If you have any hope in helping Ishida, then keep going! What did he say? What did he do?"
Ichigo swallowed hard as he remembered every detail. Their bodies pressed together, breathing heavy…we are apart of each other…
"He said…that we are apart of each other…" Ichigo gritted his teeth and shouted. "I made him that way! I made him what he is now – it my fault!" A fist banged into the wall, a chunk of plaster falling and clattering to the bed beside him. His scowl became pressed, biting his lip as the center of his brow turned upward. "How am I supposed to help him when I'm the one who got him into this?!"
Grabbing Kon by the front of his body, he yelled into the flopping lion. "How Kon, tell me!"
"Kon's right, you know." A voice floated through the room. Ichigo's frantic shake ceased as he stared at the green clothed intruder. The fan flared in front of his face and caught a breeze, gently blowing blond hair back. "You're our only key to finding Uryuu. You're the last person he spoke to. Everyone else believed that he was still here in the Shoten."
Ichigo's eyes cast downward, avoiding contact with the shop keeper. Kon flopped unaided to the bed sheet, quickly recovering from the fall.
"I…don't know." Ichigo breathed. "I think the hollow took him over, but I can't be sure." He had become more responsive, yet this tone indicated that he still was displaced from emotion.
A silence passed between them, and Urahara turned away.
"You do remember that hollows have a nasty habit of lying, right Ichigo?" The shop owner turned and smiled at the shinigami. "I would hope that you didn't take any of what that creature said to heart."
Ichigo was left to ponder Urahara's words. As he sat, ridicule seeped into the forefront of his mind.
How had he been so blind? The hollow knew what kind of power he had by taking over Ishida's body – Ichigo would never harm him. By taking the Quincy's form, the hollow had ensured his own survival.
But there had to be a way to defeat it without harming the archer trapped with it. Things have gotten so much more difficult in the life of a soul reaper; he realized without pause that he wouldn't have it any other way.
He would kill the hollow and restore the Quincy.
At the meeting room of the Shoten, Urahara smiled as he felt the tides turn. Pouring Rukia a cup of tea, he spoke earnestly to the dark haired shinigami.
"I believe things are taking a turn for the better, Rukia-san." He smiled under the shady hat, one eye peering from under the brim.
"How?" she questioned. Things had not progressed in a couple of days, and the longer they sat idle, the colder Ishida's trail became. "We are no closer to finding Uryuu that we were two days ago."
"No need." A voice caused her to turn. "We don't need to look for Uryuu; he'll come to us."
"Ichigo!" she smiled, rising to meet the orange haired shinigami. He could have been worse for wear, but to see the look of determination on the soul reaper's face made her second guess the boy's physical condition. As long as he maintained that severe frown, she knew nothing could keep him down.
"Ah, Ichigo. It's good of you to be among the living again – so to speak." The grey eyes of Urahara sparkled, a sincere smile of satisfaction lining his lips.
"Can't say that it's good to be back yet, Hat-and-Clogs." The familiar ring of Ichigo's used nickname caused Urahara to chuckle. "Sorry it took me so long to come back."
"Don't worry about it." Urahara gestured to the table, inviting the soul reaper to sit with them. "We were just coming up with a plan to help out Ishida."
"Looks like I'm just in time." The orange haired shingami smirked, crossing his legs on the pillow. "So what have you guys come up with?"
"Nothing yet." Urahara smiled sheepishly. "We were waiting for you."
Ichigo comically slapped his forehead. "What would you guys do without me?"
"We would have come up with something, carrot-top." A child's voice sounded behind him, carrying the full weight of adult sarcasm in its voice. "Better than watching you acting like a baby."
"What did you say?" Ichigo's temper had also seemingly returned, slamming foreheads with the pint sized adversary.
"I said you act like a girl!" Jinta retaliated, adding a force of his own.
"Now, now, boys; you can play later." Urahara chided, masking his amusement with his fan. "Right now we need to get down to business."
Ichigo stood deftly, a scowl etched onto his face. His visage exuded seriousness now; he glanced over the table at the assembled allies. Slowly he picked his words, laying all the cards on the table.
"I have a plan."