9- Gigai request and a bloody Realization

Nothing ever felt this lonely or painful before. Shirosaki slowly sat up, relocating Ichigo so he was laying on the floor as the albino's golden pools dulled into a lifeless color, slowly gazing back down on the sleeping form. Frowning, he stood, placing his right hand on his knee, lifting his head of snow white colored hair, a deep frown etched into his features.

"I can't stay here forever…" he muttered, looking up at the nightly sky, changing like the mood the orange haired teen was in. Night for sleeping, clouds with a sky blue for awake and normal. Night and day. "Guess I'll take over for a while, Ichigo,"

Auburn eyes slowly opened, Ichigo's body slowly sitting up as his left hand rubbed the side of his head, looking out the window with longing eyes. Sighing, he shook his orange hair-covered head, turning and standing.

This is how it feels…to be outside…guess I'll have to get used to it if I wanna talk to that prick, Mr. hat-and-clogs. he thought bitterly as he padded to the door, wrapping his slender fingers around it, turning the cool handle in his hot hand, opening the door and blinking. How am I gonna get past that tattooed freak and that weird rabbit obsessed chick?

Shrugging, he walked down the stairs, all the way to the front door, bending down and slipping on a pair of black shoes the eldest Kurosaki sibling owned, quirking a brow as he stared at the laces. Frowning after a few attempts, he shoved the laces into the shoes, standing and swinging open the door. Walking through, ignoring the others' calls.

888

Shirosaki reached Urahara's in no time at all, though he was very tired and confused at how Ichigo could handle the strain that was put on his body each and every single damned day.

The blond haired shopkeeper waited eagerly at the entrance, grinning behind the fan that he held in front of his face, eyeing Shirosaki like he was a new experiment he could mess around with.

"Hey, hat-and-clogs," the form spoke, frowning. Ichigo's chocolate colored eyes narrowed and his slender orange brows furrowed as a growl slipped past his lips, knowing the man's grin had supposedly widened, "quit grinning like a goddamn idiot and make me a gigai."

"Why would you need a gigai?" the shopkeeper questioned, Shirosaki clenching his fists, only to collapse onto the ground, still not used to the atmosphere outside his light half's inner world. "Mr. Kurosaki?"

"I…I need a gigai…" he panted, his clenched hands planted on the ground as he hunched over. "So…we're separated…"

"'we'? Who's 'we', Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Stop calling me that, old man," he hissed, glaring up at him, gold brimming the edges of the brown orb, "I need to separate myself…from Ichigo." The High Schooler's name came out strained and full of pain as the Hollow bit his lower lip. "Make me a gigai…"

"Sure," Urahara spoke after a short while of silence, "do you…have anything specific you want on it?"

"Like this?" Shirosaki breathed, the body falling lifelessly onto the dirt pavement as the soul parted from the flesh, bright white colored hair tousling in the delicate wind as golden-black eyes glared at the wide-eyed man. "Eyes…this color…hair, same thing, but…about the skin…"

"Ah, yes, make it the same as Ichigo's?"

"No…just…pale, not white pale, but…pale."

The man nodded slowly as Shirosaki pushed himself back into the body below him, lifting himself of the dirt ground once he was fully consumed, looking up to see that Urahara was offering him a hand.

"Come inside, you must be exhausted after walking all the way here, Hollow."

"It's Shirosaki," he hissed angrily as he took the hand and was lifted to his feet, helped towards the shop's doors.

"Ah, yes, sorry, Mr. Shirosaki, I apologize. Now…I should have the gigai done in two days."

Thank you, he thought as he eyes fell shut, accidentally falling asleep and slumping against the blond exiled shinigami.

888

Urahara had left Shirosaki to rest on the guest room's bed, now sitting at the table in the kitchen with Tessai, a serious expression on his usually goofy features.

"So, Ichigo has an inner Hollow," the bulky man muttered, his fingers folded together as he looked down on them with furrowed brows. "This won't look good on the reputation for the shop if this news got out that he's got one because of our training for him to regain his powers."

Urahara nodded slowly, frowning. "But we must make this gigai. He wants to separate himself from Mr. Kurosaki, so bad that he took over and walked all the way here, it's been a few good hours, he must be extremely exhausted from all the atmospheric pressure put on him."

Both men grew silent as they peered through the crack in the guest bedroom door to see the orange haired shinigami turn on the bed, a soft moan floating off his pale lips.

Urahara swallowed, closing his eyes, standing and walking away from the table and down the stairs, "I'll be in the training room," he announced before disappearing behind a corner.

Tessai shook his head, sighing as he slipped his glasses off, wiping the lens with his apron's edge. "Yes, sir." he mumbled.

888

Ichigo turned again on the bed, brown eyes fluttering open, then shut again. It was too early for him to wake up, and he knew that. Bringing his left hand up to his face, he covered his eyes.

I don't want to wake up, he thought bitterly, trying to escape to his inner world, not…yet…

Shirosaki glanced over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes, down on the ground, not at Ichigo's face. Noticing this made the orange haired teen quirk a brow, walking over to him and sitting down, placing a hand on his shoulder, only to have it pushed off.

"Hey! What the hell, Shirosaki?!" he shouted, eyes wide.

"Leave me alone, partner," he muttered, crossing his arms, elbows resting on his knees, locating his forehead against his arms, "I don't wanna talk to you." Hearing this made the young Kurosaki back up slightly, face covered with a shocked look. "In fact…go away."

"Shirosaki…" Ichigo snarled, as he shut his eyes, placing his right hand over the left side of his chest, curling it up into a fist. His eyes snapped open, revealing a deep caramel color, since gold was sneaking in, thrusting that clenched fist forward and introducing his fist to Shirosaki's jaw. Standing, he stared down at the wide eyed albino as he lifted himself from the ground with wide golden-black eyes, whipping his head in Ichigo's direction with a hiss of anger. "Why are you being such an asshole now?! I thought we got over this, dammit!!"

The Hollow stood slowly, wiping the blood off his lower lip, since it had a slit from the punch's force.

"…I don't wanna talk about it." he hissed, narrowing his eyes as he reached over his shoulder for his Zanpaku-to, the bright haired teenager swiftly grabbing it as well, both in similar battle positions, yet the emotions flashing in their eyes differed completely.

"Fine then…we'll fight over it, like always," the teen growled, dashing forth and turning on his heel, his back shown for only a few seconds before Shirosaki ducked as his blade flew over him, only his white hair strand's length away from getting his head chopped off. "And I'm not holding back!!" he shouted, his other heel scrapping across the ground to trip the unsuspecting Hollow, who swung his giant white and black blade down, Ichigo blocking it with his own. Yet he successfully tripped his dark-half, a grunt being torn from Dark Ichigo's lips as he fell backwards, bringing the sword's metal up before Ichigo could strike straight through him with his own sword.

"Ngh," The white figure crashed to the ground with an angry thud, quickly rolling over and onto his feet once the shinigami swung his blade down, rage fuelling his actions, irrational thinking. "La luz de luna!"

"Bankai!"

Their spiritual energy raced around them, roughly brushing against the other's own, making it tingle a bit, both lunging at each other once the transformation was complete, swinging their blades hastily, Ichigo's eyes becoming a honey-like color with a slight brown tinge to it, mask forming at the side of his face as he continued to swing, tears clinging to his lashes.

Shirosaki growled, wrapping his fingers around Ichigo's right wrist, bending it back as far as it could go, a little more until the lightly tanned teenager cried out in pain, throwing his head back, causing the tears to scatter as he clenched his teeth, his left hand automatically grabbing onto the albino's own wrist, yanking it away and thrusting the blade forth unexpectedly, piercing through his chest and to the back, blood springing out at the end, leaking in the front, flying back to splatter against the orange haired teen's handsome face, his brows slanted into a uncertain look, a look of regret.

Golden-black eyes gazed down onto the wound, chuckling nervously with a smirk. "Nice blow," he coughed out, blood trickling down his lips, lifting his head to smile at the stunned teenager, "Ichigo."

"S…shit!" he cried, throwing his head down as he yanked the Zanpaku-to's blade out as he fell to his knees, his hands clenched into fists as he rapidly shook his head. "Shit!!" This time it was louder as he bit his lower lip, slowly looking back up to the albino to see him slowly dissolving and disappearing into darkness. "Wait! You can't just…leave like that! You've had worse!!"

"I give up, you dumbass," he frowned, crossing his arms, halfway consumed by small particles, "I can leave if I resign."

"Don't…give me that bullshit, Shirosaki!" he screamed, his arms giving way and falling onto the ground, covering his face with his right hand, mask crippled and slowly fading away from his blood-covered face. "I…can't believe I did that…" Hearing no reply, he slowly removed the hand and gazed up to see no one, being all alone in his inner world for once. "…I'm a monster…"

"Fuck!" he cried as he bolted up into a sitting position, seeing Tessai fall backwards from sudden shock. Panting heavily, he wiped his brow, his left hand wiping away what felt like tears. Blinking, he looked back up to the brute to see that he was standing once again with a wet white cloth in his hands, pulling his right hand away from his forehead, he pointed at it with a questionable feature on his face. "What's that for?"

"Well, Mr. Kurosaki," the dreadlock haired man spoke, tone deep like a rock star's, "you were having a nightmare and I put a cold cloth on your forehead about two hours ago and I was just about to replace it…but you woke up so suddenly…it surprised me."

"Oh…" he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, a sheepish look on his flushed features. "Sorry, Tessai."

The tanned man shook his head, hand raised. "No need to apologize, Mr. Kurosaki, I'm just glad you are awake and well."

That caused Ichigo to look down at the pool of white sheets resting at his waist, a depressed emotion playing across his usually scowling features. "Yeah…well…" he sighed, reaching down and pulling the covers off of his body, pushing them away as he swung his legs to the edge of the soft mattress and stood, running out of the room and shop, Tessai calling after him with worry filling his muscular chest.

Turning, he ran into and through an alleyway, not exactly knowing where he was running to, but just running as tears slipped down his cheeks, brown eyes shimmering in pain and agony.

I almost killed him, realization hit him, and hit him hard, recalling what he had done to Shirosaki in his inner world, I almost killed him…what the hell's wrong with me?!

"Hey, Ichigo!"

He screeched to an abrupt halt, turning swiftly on his heel, eyes widening slightly once he saw a familiar figure standing on a rooftop, a violent red ponytail flapping angrily in the rushing breeze, reddish-brown eyes gazing down on him with a white-toothed grin. Black jagged tattoos hinting the tough personality the redhead possessed.

Leaping down, his sandaled foot gently tapped the ground, head bowed, then raised with a frown replacing the bright smile.

"We need to talk," he spoke simply, Ichigo looking away and at the sky, his left hand holding onto his sleeve and wiping the hot, sticky trails away from his face, "now…if you don't mind."