Author's Note: Woo-hoo, chapter eight now! For those of you who are still reviewing, thank you very much! Please note that I do pay attention to suggestions and ideas, even if I don't end up using them, but keep them coming because they really do help a lot! And don't worry, the M-Rated bit that you've all been looking forward to is coming up soon.
"Get your ass back here!"
"Like hell I will!"
"I'm gonna kill you, shinigami!"
"Just try!"
Shouting hollow threats back and forth, Ichigo continued to zip down the hallways of Las Noches, Grimmjow in hot pursuit. Unfortunately, not so hot, because not even the sixth Espada could keep up with Ichigo in his current state without Pantera released. And this little fact was working wonders in Ichigo's advantage, because the faster he got away, the better.
The blue-haired Arrancar soon fell behind, leaving Ichigo free to move towards the achingly familiar reiatsu.
He could feel it quite distinctly now, it wasn't far away.
There was also a certain air of distress to it that bothered the strawberry immensely. Was something happening to Hitsugaya? Was he hurt? In any case, he had to find out, and he had to find out fast before it was too late.
He turned a corner.
He went down another corrider.
Turned again.
Kept running.
He had to hurry, otherwise his hollow mask would wear off, decreasing his speed. And the longer he used bankai along with the hollow powers at the same time, his reiatsu would become much stronger and much easier to detect.
"Toshiro, where are you?" he muttered under his breath. "Stay right where you are...I'm almost there."
Meanwhile, back in the real world.
Since Ichigo's departure, Urahara had been keeping a close eye on the clock.
The morning had slowly moved into noon, and noon had slowly faded into the sunset.
Then it had turned dark.
It had been twenty hours since Ichigo had left.
He only had four remaining. And by the looks of it, he was still going strong, but nowhere near completing his mission.
"You'd better hurry, Kurosaki-san," the shopkeeper murmured, "Your time's running out..."
A quiet sigh echoed throught the bleak, empty, but securely locked room.
Hitsugaya didn't know how long it had been since Aizen had finally left him alone, for the time being, anyway. He leaned against the cold stone wall, breathing out again. His hands were tied tightly behind his back, serving to cut off his circulation. He couldn't even feel his hands anymore. In fact, he was so tired, famished, and weak that he couldn't feel hardly anything at all in the first place.
A while ago, he could have sworn that he had felt a burst of reiatsu. Reiatsu that had been very familiar to him, he had been so sure of it.
However, he had been quick to dismiss the incident as a figment of his imagination.
No one was coming for him, that he was sure of/
Especially not...
"...Kurosaki..."
The name slid softly through his lips. Strangely, it felt nice to say it, even if there was a possibility he wasn't going to see the owner of the name again. He wondered what he might be doing at this moment.
Not that it mattered.
He knew he had ruined any relationship that might have formed between them before they could even begin. That he had done deliberately, and even if he had not, it still wouldn't matter. As far as he could tell, he'd be trapped in this stupid stone shithole forever.
Hitsugaya closed his eyes, his breath coming out in short, quiet, but labored breaths.
Sullenly, he allowed himself to sink weakly to the floor.
Aizen hadn't bothered to provide food, water, or any other form of comfort at all. It wasn't that the man was trying to starve and dehydrate him, he probably just had such little concern for his well-being that he had forgotten, that bastard.
Speaking of which, what was the point of going on anymore?
He had no more life, as far as he was concerned. He might as well just learn to love the fucker, and maybe he'd leave him alone.
A cold breeze brushed his legs, which were now bare thanks to the hakama-ripping incident that had occured who-knows-how-many hours ago. He shivered, which was unlike him.
Wait - a breeze? And a cold one at that.
It didn't make sense. Here in Hueco Mundo, there was no wind, let alone any inside Las Noches. And what would explain the sudden change in temperature? Then, it hit him. Hyourinmaru. The dragon of ice was returning to his conciousness.
The young captain was so grateful for the slight return that he almost smiled.
"Hyourinmaru...are you there...?" he whispered aloud hoarsely.
Then, he felt it within himself. A rumbling, frigid, presence. Then, the familiar, deep, booming voice of the dragon in his mind, although significantly fainter.
There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. He is on his way.
"He?" Hitsugaya repeated, "Who do you mean? Is someone coming...?"
Oh god, he couldn't mean Aizen, could he?
That was when he heard footsteps outside. Since the room was blocking reiatsu from both entering and escaping, Hitsugaya really had no way of telling who it was.
It couldn't be anyone but Aizen, he thought.
Fearfully, Hitsugaya forced himself to sit up, wincing in pain as he, to no avail, tried to wriggle his hands free from their restraints. He could hear the sound of a hand on the knob, turning it once. Then there was nothing.
Hitsugaya closed his eyes, curled himself up into the smallest ball he could, and silently prayed for deliverance from what he knew was to come.
Then, he heard the voice.
"Damn, the door's locked."
Dulled emerald eyes shot open in shock.
He knew that voice.
"K-Kurosaki...?" he breathed, his eyes wide.
No, it couldn't be. He was dreaming. Why would he even dare to think about this being possible at all? It couldn't be. It simply couldn't. This was just too much to ever hope for. Ichigo wouldn't come for him. He knew that very well.
"Toshiro? Toshiro, are you in there?" came the low, frantic whisper again. "Toshiro, answer me, please..."
It really was him.
Hitsugaya wanted to cry with happiness.
"K-Kurosaki, I'm..."
"Any way of opening this from the inside?"
"...N-No, it's locked inside out, I think..."
"Ah. Uh, hang on a second..."
There was the distinctive clink of metal, the sound of a katana being drawn. Then came that wonderful, warm voice again.
"Hey, Toshiro, can you step back for a second?"
Hitsugaya was a little confused, but he did as he was told and quietly moved against the wall. He was glad he did.
"Getsuga Tenshou!"
There was an explosion of spiritual energy and rubble. Coughing, Hitsugaya strained to see through the debris. Ichigo had just busted straight through the wall. Even with the reiatsu seal that had been placed upon the room, his getsuga had been more than enough to complete the job, and now there was a big, nice, smoldering hole where the door had once been.
The young captain looked up.
It was Ichigo alright.
But there was a strange, unfamiliar reiatsu surrounding the shinigami subsitute, not to mention the grotesque hollow mask covering his face from view. He blinked. Was this really Ichigo? It didn't feel like him. The reiatsu was the same, but much coarser and rougher. It didn't feel right at all.
Ichigo noticed Hitsugaya's confused expression. "It's me," he spoke, trying to reassure the uncertain boy, moving a hand to his face to dissolve the mask. "Relax, it's me, Kurosaki Ichigo." There was a pause. "...You do remember me, right?"
Hitsugaya slowly nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked as he knelt by the boy, working quickly to untie his bound wrists.
"I'm fine."
"I'm glad," the strawberry smiled, gently running a hand through the snow-white locks. "Come on, let's get you out of this place."
"Kurosaki..."
"Yeah?"
"Why?"
Ichigo blinked. "Why what?"
Hitsugaya looked away before mumbling, "Why did you come for me...?"
There was a brief pause before Ichigo answered firmly, "Because I wanted to."
"Even after what I said to you?"
"...Yeah."
"About that, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya began, "Honestly, I-"
He stopped mid-sentence, a small gasp slipping past his lips. He looked up over Ichigo's shoulder. Wide, terrified teal eyes moved upwards to meet cold brown. Behind them, in the crumbling mess of what used to be the entrance to the room, stood Aizen.
And he looked pissed.
