She remembered biting into flesh of the girl, breaking the skin, tasting the blood. She remembered a shot going through her head before the briefest of pain overtook and she was gone…
Confusion seeped into her. This memory…it isn't hers…
She saw the girl as a woman, in the rain, shielding a child before being struck down. The determination in her eyes was so familiar…
Whose memories were these?
Everything blurred before a familiar memory went by. She, as a child, fascinated by how her mother read tarot cards and had crystals hanging on the ceilings. She would always reach for the crystals because they have no memory, because they were as unreachable as the stars. That memory merged with another unfamiliar one, twining together until she could no longer tell which was hers.
The last memory that crossed her mind was through someone else's eyes. She saw herself, being taken somewhere far away, far from danger, before it stopped as though on pause, and it dissolved. Streaks of red pierced the darkness, wrapping around her body,
Her power…it was alive, burning through her, wrapping around her like a ribbon. Why did they call it evil? Why…?
She heard it then. The sound of a heart beating inside of her heart, so familiar, yet not her own…whose heart could she hear?
"Are you forgetting me, princess?" The voice, distorted, sounded almost hurt, but it was too far away. "Are you getting too far gone?"
"Too…far…gone?" Her eyes were open, unable to see anything in the dark aside from the red of her power. She closed her eyes, floating in the darkness.
"Wake up, princess."
But wasn't she already awake? This person wasn't making any sense…
Then she remembered. The inner world, the cold touch. The golden eyes…
She opened her eyes. "White…" she breathed softly. She could sense him now, getting closer and closer.
She closed her eyes the moment she felt hands on her, pulling her against a body. It was so familiar that she just yielded to it. The grip tightened.
"Wake up." It was a harsh whisper, an order. His fingers were digging into her skin, as though intending to make her bleed. The heartbeat in her head became louder, pounding in her ears. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay here…
"You can't stay here, princess. 'Cause then you won't be the girl I thought you were."
A sharp lance of pain shot through her and she crumpled. "Ah," she moaned, her bones feeling as though they shattered. "It hurts…"
The pain was louder than the heartbeat, its own sound a keening siren, deafening her. She could hear something underneath the pain. A voice, full of remorse…
"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have been involved in this."
Who…?
She felt White's arms wind around her, as though shielding her. Shielding her from what…?
Ichigo knew that it was his fault. He had gotten Minako involved with this war.
The minute she had collapsed, something changed. Streaks of blood began to trail from her eyes as crimson markings began to appear on her skin. The rumors about Minako's powers were that if she continued to use it, she would lose her mind. However, right now, she was barely breathing and he had to get her out of Hueco Mundo.
So that's what he did. He gathered her in his arms, jumped into the Garganta with Unohana, and set off to the world of the living. Unohana had been monitoring Minako's condition silently, but Ichigo didn't like the worry growing in her eyes.
His Hollow was agitated, its energy holding tightly onto Minako's energy, as though trying to keep it from shattering. Ichigo wasn't sure when the fierce protectiveness started, but he wasn't about to complain. This wasn't the time for it now.
"Kurosaki-san," Unohana's voice was soft. "We don't know what truly happens to anyone who has the Tamashī no Tankyū-Sha ability. We don't know what happens before they lose themselves completely."
"What do you think is happening?" asked Ichigo.
"I think Kazuya-san's body is deteriorating. She's dying and if there isn't a way for us to help her, she will wake up and not be the girl you know," she answered. Ichigo's eyes widened before they fell onto Minako's face. The tears of blood were still falling, the crimson marking getting darker by the second. She felt more fragile, like if he tightened his hold, he could break her. He'd never felt so powerless before…
I can't save her.
"Because you're weak!" His Hollow roared in his head in fury. "You're too weak to save her!"
And you can? he challenged.
"I'm stronger than you are, King. Unlike you, I'll tear skin and bone for my princess."
Ichigo felt himself getting pulled into his inner world. Inside it, he could see his Hollow holding onto Minako, with no marks or blood, his grip tight. He could see the black and gold eyes glaring into Ichigo's own brown orbs. Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "How long are you going to hold onto her?" he asked. "She's dying, White."
His Hollow glared back, this time without a haughty expression. "You don't think I've noticed?" he growled. "Not that you care anyway, King. You never really paid any attention to her before."
The jab stung, but Ichigo knew it was true. Minako was in his class, kept to herself, and was leading her own life. He never paid her any mind until she and White had contact. The only time he really paid attention was the day he went back to the classroom and bumped into Minako. "You're right," Ichigo said. "I didn't pay attention to her before I got her involved in this. But she's dying and unless you got any ideas, I can't save her."
White let out a harsh laugh. "Idiot. My energy is keeping her together. So long as I got her here, she's not going to disappear."
"Selfish, aren't you?"
"Unless you want her blood on your hands, King. Looks like she's sleeping right now," White looked down at Minako and brushed strands of her hair from her face—a surprisingly gentle manner Ichigo had never seen from his Hollow. It was almost as though…
He was thrown back into the real world, finally back home, with Unohana and Minako. Most of his friends were wounded from what he could see. The goal was to ultimately take down Aizen. He looked to Unohana. "You were ordered to execute Minako because she's a threat."
"Yes," Unohana replied. "However, it seems that she is reaching the end. It would be far too late for us by this point."
Before Ichigo could respond, something shuddered within him. It was something bad; he could feel it in his bones. Unohana looked to him. "Leave her with me, Kurosaki-san. I will try and help her to the best of my ability."
Ichigo nodded and knelt down, setting Minako gently on the ground. "Don't quit, Minako," he told her before flash-stepping away. He had to help with this war against Aizen.
Unohana knelt beside Minako and began to use her kidô to try and begin healing Minako the best she possibly could. The crimson marks began to fade only slightly before burning brighter on her skin. A moan of pain escaped Minako's lips, her body beginning to writhe.
"It hurts!"
Minako curled into a ball, the pain intensifying with every passing second. It invaded her body, shattering bone, choking her lungs, and all she could do was scream. Everything was flashing before her eyes—her memories and the memories of those she met in her life. Tears burned down her face, her fingers digging into her face. She was ripping in two, in three, in fours…
"Fight back!" White's voice rang in her ears. She was trying; she was trying as hard as she could. Her power was completely unstable, spiking higher to devour her. The pain escalated, her insides feeling as though they were being carved by thousands of knives. It was unbearable. She wanted it to stop.
The final pain was in her heart. It squeezed tighter and tighter…
"No!"
She had tried…she reached out, wanting to find him, but it was too late. She was too late.
Unohana ceased her attempt, her eyes closed. Before, she was able to sense Minako's energy in spite of it becoming completely unstable. Now, her energy was gone. Unohana placed her finger against Minako's throat, to be sure of her assessment, before she removed it slowly.
The rage was unimaginable. White was destructive, wishing there was something to destroy in the inner world, something he could annihilate into dust.
She was gone. His princess was gone.
He had felt it—her very last seconds of life. He demanded she fight back, holding her tightly. She had tried to reach him. Then her heart stopped beating, her energy gone. Her power had killed her.
They thought she would just spiral into insanity—not that he'd mind that anyway, she'd have acted violent like him. But no one knew how anything would happen before that type of tragedy. He could sense she wanted the agony to end, in spite of his own energy wrapping tightly around hers. But as selfish as he was, he wasn't going to let her go.
White was thirsty for blood. And he was going to spill it.