TIN MAN

Author's Note:

Dear God, this took forever to publish! So much for the 'I'll publish once a week, I promise!' Ugh. I'm a horrible, horrible person... but... I had finals and crap to do. I still have four of them to go. Stuff came up. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a life. The author actually is a living being! (Who would've guessed?)

Anyway, here's Chapter Three. It isn't my favorite of the three, but oh well... I like where it's going. Hope you guys enjoy it.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT, IN ANY FORM, OWN BLEACH OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE ORIHIME AND ISIDA LOVE, AND BYAKUYA WOULD NOT HAVE A STICK SHOVED UP AS HIS ASS. THANK YOU.

Chapter Three: Where, oh Where, do you Bleed?

They had to be mocking him. There was no fucking way Ichigo was doing this…

Oh, but he was.

Somewhere along the lines of this little plan for celebration, things turned awry. Black lace adorned every possible surface, and cutesy little monsters stared back into his now horrified gaze. There were 'dead' roses in a vase on every table. It was so overblown. The formerly perfectly normal, tolerable bland curtains of the room had been cast aside, and, as a replacement, lace curtains adorned them as well. The whole place was covered in the stuff.

Sure, there was an occasional tacky spiderweb, but the lace was killing him. To the poor disgruntled teen, it appeared as if a silkworm had vomited all over the place. There was no way any man with any ounce of dignity would find their way into this overly-feminized room willingly. Already, he felt like he was slowly turning into a girl just be standing at the entryway.

But it wasn't that that was aggravating him so…

He swore under his breath. Orihime was happily chattering away with Rukia, both of them even more bubbly than normal. Uryu was currently putting the finishing touches on what appeared to be a maid costume for the top-heavy woman, and he groaned. They all looked so happy. The bustling girl was all smiles, chattering on about something she'd cooked, while the quiet Quincy just nodded and replied softly… timidly. The dark haired teen had been reduced from the arrogant snot he usually was around Ichigo to a modest, meek man who could barely force his own voice out without stuttering.

Ichigo wasn't stupid. He knew all too well what the change meant. The Quincy was smitten while Orohime was either totally clueless to the matter… per normal… or was perfectly happy with the way she felt towards the other. He gathered it was the former of the two. Rukia'd not gossiped about it Inoue yet, so that was probably the case… (He couldn't say the same for the Quincy, whose feelings were now very well known… by everyone but Orihime.) Already, his male companion was hopelessly wrapped around her finger.

THAT was what was sickening him. Ichigo had noticed several changes over the course of time. Where he previously would have never noticed anything, he was starting to pick up on things that seemed so obvious to everyone else… It seemed that many of his friends were falling head over head with each other, leaving him to grimace at it. He wasn't jealous. He just felt like vomiting every time he saw his friends trying to suck each other's faces off. After all, these were the people he'd known for a long time, had grown to care about as extended family… and no one wanted to see their family members on the verge of stripping off clothes. At least Uryu wasn't that far gone yet…. He was still a bumbling idiot around her. It'd be a while before she noticed anything.

Ichigo sighed uncomfortably. God, I want out of here. I wonder if they'd notice if I let Kon take over for the event… Then again, the last thing I need is Kon around maids… Ugh. I just want to go in my world and wait this out…

That surprised him. Since when had his world become a sanctuary? To the best of his knowledge, it had been unpleasant and frightening… but now, it wasn't. No, it was just the opposite. It was a place for him to get away from the stress, now, even if it used to cause an ungodly amount of anxiety before. When had that happened? He'd never picked up on it…

The Shimigami sighed in dismay, only to receive a dark look from Uryu as Orihime chattered on, not noticing yet.

That look said it all. It was one of those, 'you hurt her feelings and you die' sort of glares. Seems he'd been getting a lot of those from the Quincy lately.

So the emo fell in love with the princess. How touching.

Ichigo had no choice in whether he participated or not. This was going to be SO fun…

Inside Ichigo's head, it wasn't much better. Hichigo was staring up at the gash, eyes cold and hateful. It had yet to grow in that hungry, cancerous way again, but he knew. He knew it would surge forward, claiming all of that formerly perfect sky of his King, ravenous and unforgiving. As his King's 'horse', he refused to let something so seemingly small and stupid get in his way of doing what he did best: annoying Kurosaki mercilessly, but at the same time, doing his job of protecting the same man. It was his job. It was his only job, really. Protect and serve the one who owned the world he lived in. Being annoying was part of that job, now that Ichigo had issued such an order.

'Next time you go into one of your thinking spells, say something before I go bonkers.' That was an order if he ever did see one… which he hadn't, but that wasn't going to stop him from performing just that. Hichigo was always thinking, thus, he wasn't supposed to go quiet. It bothered the strawberry when he didn't talk, although, he didn't know why. He didn't need to know why, because Hollow or not, it pleased him to know he was missed… by Ichigo, of all people.

That brought him to where he was now, glaring heavenward as if the hole had greatly wronged him, malicious intent in those inverted eyes of his. Zangetsu was by his side, standing on a pole as he usually did. This continued for quite a while. Shiro glaring… Zangetsu standing there…

It was Zangetsu that shattered the standstill, uttering, "If it bothers you, fix it."

Shiro scowled. "D'ya always hafta talk in flippin' riddles all t'time, ol' man?!"

Zangetsu ignored his comment. "It bothers you. You want it to stop. So stop it."

The Hollow knew the zanpaktou was right… but he wasn't happy about it. He didn't have any idea how to do that. When he didn't know what to do, he always grew grumpy and more agitated than normal. Already, he was in a royally pissed mood. The hole was interrupting what he was supposed to do! Ichigo, the only person he actually didn't want to rip limb from limb, was out there, suffering through god knows what, and he couldn't even see what was going on! With that imperfection overhead, their thoughts weren't connected as they usually were. Yes, he felt the rain beating on him when Ichigo was sad, and he felt the sun when Ichigo was happy still, but the source was completely oblivious to him. Normally, when Ichigo was in danger, or happy, or whatever, he could always see the cause by getting into Ichigo's thoughts and demanding an answer to it. They were from the same mold. They were mirrors of each other, and what went on in the older's head could be accessed by the younger… but not the other way around if their connection was severed. It was a strange thing… Like a phone line, almost, where once the conversation ended, one could either put it on hold, to be picked up later without reconnecting… or hang up, shutting the conversation off until further notice. Ichigo didn't know how to contact the hollow in such a fashion, so the link was always there… so Hichigo was always there. It was just the way things worked… but with this growing imperfection, that was getting difficult. There were lapses where Hichigo could not, under any circumstance, talk to his King.

He had to keep talking. It was his job. But that stupid tear in the pale sky overhead was getting in his damn way!

"T'second Kingy gets his ass in 'ere, I'm gonna rip 'im a new one for makin' th' stupid hole!"

Zangetsu shook his head. "Ichigo isn't aware it's there, Hichigo." The albino froze, staring at him. "So how is he to make it go away if he doesn't know what it is??"

The hollow fell silent again before muttering, "Help me fix this. I need to see him."

Meanwhile, outside of the sideways realm, Ichigo was purely dismayed. His costume was something that he vowed never to wear. He was home now, and said costume was thrown aside into the depths of his closet, not to be looked at again until the day of the event. He was currently struggling through his homework. The days where he had been so agitated had left him incredibly behind on his classes, which was an odd feeling he was not used to. He'd always been one of the best in his class, just so the teachers would give him a break for breaking their rules. Now, he didn't have that cover, and if he didn't do something fast, they'd make him dye his hair or go to detention for picking fights… again.

It was the last thing he wanted to do. His mother would turn in her grave to see her little boy become a detention patron. Thus, he slaved away, grumbling to himself. Why did all algebra problems have to resemble Rukia's crappy drawings? Numbers danced before his eyes, blending and merging into one large garbled mess. He was swearing to himself as he tried to straighten it out, completely oblivious to the familiar presence that was slowly forming… right behind him.

Needless to say, the vibrant haired boy nearly jumped out of his skin when a pale hand reached out and clenched his hair, jerking it backwards. With a yelp of pain, Ichigo found himself staring into the strange eyes of Shirosaki, who looked like he'd seen better days. Shiro's clothes were disheveled and torn, his eyes tired and… dare he say it… worried? The hollow's pale lips were pressed in a thin line, eyes boring into the darker ones below.

Ichigo scowled, glaring up at the other. "What're you trying to do, scare the shit out of me?! Let go, dammit!"

Only when his hair was released did he calm down, watching his other half with pure interest. This was odd. Sure, the Horse did like to randomly show up and antoganize them when they were alone, but this was entirely new. Not once had he shown up this way, staring him down like something was horrifically wrong. Ichigo felt his heart sink. What had happened?

Shiro sat on the other's desk, nonchalantly going on. "King, I have 'nother question fer ya."

This came as a surprise. It seemed Ichigo was getting a lot of those lately…

"Ya said I could say somethin' if I got t'thinkin', righ'?" He didn't wait for a nod. Words came ceaselessly from that mouth of his, obviously chosen with great care. "Well, I got t'thinkin'… an'… Ya feelin' okay?"

Ichigo gawked at him. "Am… I… feeling okay…?" A nod was made in reply, those inverted eyes never leaving Ichigo's face. "Uh… Yeah…"

"Ya sure…? Ya ain't hurtin'?"

Ichigo could only dumbly shake his head. Since when did Shiro care whether he hurt or not? It… felt strange, to hear this from him…

"Funneh, ya don't look al'righ'." Shiro gave him a dark look, but it didn't have as much venom as normal. It was watered down greatly by concern. Slowly, the gaze travelled downward to the papers on the desk, and with one swift movement, Shiro had them in his hand, staring at them in bewilderment.

Shiro knew why he'd came, even if Ichigo didn't. He always came to see Ichigo for a reason, be it just to see him or something with a more grave purpose. In this case, it was the latter of the two. Zangetsu, always short and to the point, had given him advice, and for once, he took it.

He had been told to look for anything that could cause a difference in the sky. So look he did. Although, he had no idea what it was he was looking for, but he could take a couple of stabs. "Ya look flustered an' angry. Ya mad about these scribbles?" He received no reply. So it wasn't those. With a childish huff, the pale man tossed them carelessly, leaving Ichigo to struggle to catch them before they ended up meeting an untimely demise. Those eyes flickered over the rest of the room, and finding nothing that could possibly be of danger to the strawberry, the frown grew.

Ichigo was swearing at him in the background, but went ignored. Shiro carried on with his questions, turning on his heal to stare Ichigo down again. "So it ain't that…" It hadn't rained in a while, so it wasn't him mourning over a loved one… so he wasn't in any physical danger, so perhaps it was stress? That was ruled out quickly. Ichigo looked stressed now, and the gaping gash in the sky hadn't grown today… Each place he looked made him even more confused. He saw photos that he'd never noticed before of some woman and an orange haired boy, and he saw old drawings with lines of thick and clumsy crayons taped over Ichigo's bed. One of the 'midgets', as he called them, must have drawn them for Ichigo years ago, he mused, but as to why Ichigo kept the ugly things, he didn't understand. How was he supposed to look for things that could invoke an emotional change in Ichigo when he didn't understand emotion at all?!

Shiro grew more and more frantic in his searching, leaving Ichigo to finally snap, getting his attention. Dark eyes looked up at Shiro, the owner of said eyes angrily asking, "What the hell is with you today? I'm fine! Even if I wasn't, it's none of your damn business how I'm feeling!"

'Ichigo, what is it like to have feelings?' Shiro scoffed, shaking his head. He'd asked that question before, and couldn't be answered. Now, when he needed the answer more than anything, it suddenly didn't concern him? Obviously Ichigo was off his rocker. "Pfft. Stupid Kingy. Matters all the world t'me." Ichigo gaped again as Shiro's face contorted in a bitter grin, white lips pulling tight over those perfect teeth.

Ichigo felt a soft twinge of guilt. He was careless, spewing out words like that. "Um… sorry…" Shiro nodded at this before looking up at his King one last time.

He'd gotten off target again, but somehow, he didn't think there was anything to be found here. He'd have to look elsewhere.

Slowly, Ichigo shuffled over there to him, lightly punching his arm. "You really are a moron, Shiro. Seriously… If my feelings got hurt or something, I'd tough it out… I mean, you might get rained on, but…"

Shiro froze, staring at him. "Hurt? Ya feelin's can hurt?"

"Y-Yeah… They… can hurt…"

This caught Shiro's attention. This was a foreign thing to the Hollow, that was for sure. Hollows didn't have feelings. They weren't supposed to, it made things very complicated. How was one supposed to devour a screaming soul when they were too torn up with hearing it cry? Feelings bogged them down, so they weren't needed… but here stood the perfect reflection of his own image, that felt and obviously prospered. Why was that? "Where d'they hurt?"

"…Your heart, I guess…"

"Ya heart?"

"Yes, your heart… It feels… like someone squeezing it… or tearing it… or something." Ichigo didn't know how to explain it. It was like explaining colors to the blind… but it was enough for Shiro, who was in a much better mood when he left back to where he came.

Ichigo, however, was left bewildered.

Yes, over time, he had grown to notice things easier.

People's faces stuck easier, names stuck easier, but more than anything, changes were picked up easier.

Ichigo could see it so clearly. Something, although he wasn't sure what, was going on, and somehow, he was in the middle of it. Shirosaki was acting stranger than ever, coming and going with little to no explanation again and again…

…but he could still tell that something, somewhere, was subtly shifting and changing.

Shirosaki knew something was going on in Ichigo's head, but Ichigo wasn't aware of that. No, he was aware that the way the pair interacted had changed…

No, that it was changing.

He wasn't so sure that he liked the weird feeling left in Shirosaki's wake.

"Stupid Kingy. Matters all the world t'me." Over and over, like a broken record, in his head…

Yes, things were changing… and Ichigo was out of his element, just as Shirosaki was fighting the ever-growing wrinkle in that giant upholstery in Ichigo's sky…

Hollows were meant to kill, not to save. They were meant to hate, not to care…

Soul Reapers were made to protect, not to hide away, as Ichigo did from his sky… and Soul Reapers certainly weren't supposed to get all warm and fuzzy due to a Hollow, as Ichigo did now.

Yet, as Ichigo nodded off, it wasn't realization of how warped his situation was… It was a simple wish.

Shiro… I don't know what's going on. Whatever you do… Please be okay.

The Hollow laughed as Ichigo slipped into unconsciousness, unaware that the sky was not well…

…and had grown while Shiro had not been there to fight it off.

Oh yes, things were changing… for better… or for worse.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, that was probably my least favorite chapter, but I like it all the same. I want to thank everyone for all of the reviews, as they really make my day. (Wow, aren't I corny?) Wonder what that costume is? XD (I already know, duh, but do you?) The title will start to begin to make sense soon... I'd say in a chapter or two, depending on how I decide to write the rest of this. Who knows how long this will end up being? ANYWAY... Happy belated holidays.