Author's Note:
Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and forgiving me for being so cruel to Kisuke. It'll get better for him, I promise. =)
This chapter is shorter, closer to what I usually write for a chapter.
I think of the previous chapter as a turning point for Ichigo and Kisuke, so instead of using Urahara, I've switched to using his first name, my intention being to convey the closeness between the two of them. And also because most of this chapter is from Ichigo's point of view, sort of.
Time stood still.
It was so silent that Ichigo could hear every ticking clock in the shop; on the walls of the living room, kitchen, on his wrist. And in Kisuke's bedroom.
They'd been in there for a long time, Tessai and Yoruichi, doing their best to treat their old friend. They had been surprisingly calm as they moved him into his room. At first, Yoruichi had cried his name, her voice hoarser and more frantic than Ichigo had ever heard. She had clutched her friend to her chest, and the blonde had simply lain there in her arms, silent and still. But once she got over the initial shock, she helped Tessai lift the unconscious man, and they brought him to his bedroom and closed the door.
Nobody yelled at Ichigo.
It was Ururu who finally pried Benihime from his rigid fingers. She smiled at him kindly and squeezed his shoulder. It's going to be okay, she said. Yoruichi is here, and everything will be okay.
Ichigo wished someone would scream at him, scold him, slap him, blame him for hurting Kisuke as much as he was blaming himself.
Kisuke, I'm so sorry.
His chest seemed to have shrunk over the past few hours, making it harder and harder for him to breathe. Every beat of his heart echoed through his entire body; he heard it in his ears, felt it in his arteries. Every second that slipped by without a word from Yoruichi and Tessai served as a stab in his stomach.
He wanted to throw up so badly, but he couldn't move. His body hadn't moved ever since he planted himself in the hallway right outside of Urahara's bedroom.
Karin stayed around for a while before Jinta escorted her home. There was no point crowding around the place; it wasn't going to speed up Kisuke's recovery.
But did they really need that long to find out whether Kisuke was going to be okay? Ichigo slammed his knuckles into the floor again. They'd already begun to bleed, but he felt nothing. It didn't sting. Or maybe it did and he was just too numb to feel it.
If only he had listened to Kisuke. If only he had never met Kugo Ginjo. If only he had been strong enough to control his inner hollow. If only, if only, if only.
If only Kisuke would blame him for hurting him. But no, Ichigo knew he didn't. His eyes had said so before they slid closed.
He slammed his fist into the floor again, ignoring the blood stain that had begun to smear the clean wooden floor. A hand rested gently on his shoulder, and he turned to see Ururu crouching next to him with a cup of hot tea. Ichigo shook his head.
Hot tea. That was the last thing he accepted from Kisuke's hand before everything went to hell.
"He's strong, he will be okay," Ururu said softly. Her eyes were sad. Ichigo knew she was saying that to him as much as she was telling herself from the way her lips quivered when she spoke.
There was a creak from the wooden floor boards, the click of a door knob, and the bedroom room swung open slowly.
Ichigo sprang to his feet, his throat so tight that he couldn't make a sound.
Yoruichi stepped out, followed by a sombre-looking Tessai. Ichigo wasn't worried to see the large man with a serious expression; that's just how he looked all the time, even when he was telling jokes. It was the pale lips and tired eyes on the woman's face that made his breath hitch in his throat.
It couldn't be that bad, could it? Ichigo's mind screamed. Surely Kisuke had had worse injuries than this, hadn't he?
Tessai pulled Ururu into his arms for a hug. The girl began to sob, her earlier composure breaking down in the presence of her other guardian.
"Ichigo, come," Yoruichi touched Ichigo's arm lightly and gestured for him to follow her back into the room.
Ururu whimpered and struggled in Tessai's arms, obviously wanting to go to Kisuke too, but Tessai held her firmly and whispered something in her ear. She listened, then after a long look at Ichigo, she stopped moving.
The door clicked closed, and Ichigo was plunged into semi-darkness. He felt Yoruichi hold his arm, but he shrugged free from her grasp and stumbled to Kisuke's bed.
The blonde was on his back. His eyes were closed, the pale lashes resting peacefully on his cheeks. They'd draped a blanket over him, covering him up to his chest, hiding his hands which were resting by his sides. The only shred of cloth on him that Ichigo could see was the bandages around his chest. They looked clean; there was no blood.
Ichigo sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, his eyes transfixed on his unconscious lover. The heavily bandaged chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He turned to Yoruichi and waited for her to explain.
"We've done everything we can, he should be awake by now," the woman said, her warm golden eyes duller than normal. "We don't know why he hasn't woken up. It's really not a serious injury at all."
Ichigo stared at her and silently begged her to elaborate.
"Physically he's absolutely fine, we've healed him completely," Yoruichi continued, frowning in frustration. "I don't know what's going on."
"So...so he's in a comma, or something?" Ichigo asked, his voice raspy from his dry throat.
Yoruichi shook her head. "Not really. He didn't hit his head, and that stab wound was the only injury he had. Well, besides..." She bit her tongue and continued before Ichigo could notice, "Anyway, the physical trauma shouldn't have gotten him into this state." Her brows furrowed again as though she had something in mind but wasn't sure if she should say it.
Ichigo caught Yoruichi's look. "Mental trauma?" he guessed.
"Perhaps," Yoruichi agreed. "Except he didn't display any sign of shock or distress before he went down. If anything, he seemed...happy." She chose the only word that she could think of at the moment, and saw the boy bite his lip.
Ichigo swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "But you do have suspicions," he guessed again.
Yoruichi scratched her head in a gesture of uncertainty; yet another thing that Ichigo had never seen on her. "Well, yes, more like a wild guess really. Nobody has ever heard of something like that actually happen, not even Ukitake. But I've asked him to dig some more, see if it could be hidden in old records."
When Ichigo simply stared at her, she sighed and continued, "Thing is, he was stabbed by his own zanpakutou. That's the only thing that's, you know, different from all the other injuries that he'd had in the past." She paused for a bit. "My wild guess is, his condition is related to Benihime."
"You mean...you think he's not waking up because of Benihime?" Ichigo blurted out in disbelief. "Can such a thing happen?"
Yoruichi spread her hands. "It's possible. You know how we have to meditate to communicate with our zanpakutou, right? From the outside, we'd look just as unresponsive."
Ichigo turned back to Kisuke. Could it be? Was he really just in his inner world, talking to Benihime not unlike how he had done in his own with Zangetsu?
"But he should be able to wake up if he wants to," Ichigo said, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he mulled over the possibility. "We can enter and leave as we wish. Why would he not want to wake up? He must know that we'd be worried."
Yoruichi began to pace with her hands crossed behind her back. "See, here's where my guess gets really wild," she said. "I think he can't leave."
"Like, he's stuck?" Ichigo asked in surprise. "How?"
The woman stopped in her tracks and looked at Ichigo. "I think Benihime is holding him hostage."
Ichigo held Kisuke's hand in his own. He hated how limp it felt; he was used to the strength he had drawn from this hand, the reassurance it could convey with a single touch, and the pleasure it brought as it snaked down his skin. All things that he had taken for granted. Kisuke was strong, powerful, reliable; like a mountain that could never be conquered.
The thought of the man being caged in by his own weapon was beyond Ichigo's comprehension.
He had asked Yoruichi why Benihime would do such a thing to her wielder.
"Perhaps she thinks that she's protecting him," Yoruichi had replied.
"But that doesn't make any sense," Ichigo had argued.
And it didn't, until Ichigo remembered Tensa Zangetsu's words.
"What I want to protect is different from what you want to protect."
Tensa Zangetsu had refused to teach Ichigo the technique because he wanted to protect Ichigo. So perhaps it was not that uncommon for a zanpakutou to have its own will in such things, even if what it did was against its wielder's wish.
Perhaps Yoruichi's wild guess wasn't that wild after all.
Ichigo left Kisuke's bedside and went to find Yoruichi. He found her sitting in the kitchen, talking quietly with Tessai.
"Is there a way for me to enter his inner world?" he asked.
Yoruichi and Tessai stared at him incredulously.
"I'm afraid I have not heard of a way to do that," Tessai finally answered, his deep voice filled with sorrow.
Yoruichi's features softened when Ichigo's face fell. "I could ask Kurotsuchi to do some research on that," she offered, although she didn't sound hopeful.
Ichigo stared down at his feet. "Yeah," he said softly. "That'd be great." Then he made his way back to Kisuke's bedroom and sat down once again on the edge of the bed.
"Kisuke," he asked, rubbing his face. "What should I do?"
He was, naturally, met with silence.
He slowly lowered himself and rested his head on Kisuke's abdomen. "I will do anything if it means you'll come back." A low choking sound escaped from his throat. "Anything, Kisuke. Just wake up. Please." His fingers curled around the blanket and his knuckles went white. "I'll do anything."
There was a sharp clunk by his feet, and his head snapped up.
Just then, the bedroom door opened. Yoruichi and Tessai froze in their tracks as all three pairs of eyes fell on the object that lay on the floor next to the bed.
"No, Ichigo!" Yoruichi dashed towards the boy.
But Ichigo had already picked up Benihime. He glanced at Yoruichi, then at Tessai, and then, in a swift movement, he drew the sword out of its sheath and plunged it into his own chest.
"No!" Yoruichi caught the boy as he slid off the bed. "No, no, no," she whispered in horror, her hand grasping the hilt of the sword, afraid to pull it out yet unwilling to leave it in Ichigo's body.
Ichigo smiled up at her, not unlike how Kisuke had smiled just hours ago, and fell limp in her arms.
To be continued...