Thanks to Dark-Wing-Blader, Satan-chan, Kurosaki-Braut, The Girl of Heaven's Hellfire, Hartanna, Lil Mexican, and the guests/anons who reviewed!
A/N: Yes, I am aware that I haven't updated in practically a year. I had college and blah, bleh, blah, just take this chapter and run.
"There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction."
-Winston Churchill
A wet, black nose sniffed the ground. The hot, quick breaths caused small clouds of white sand to puff up around the creature's face. It rose its head quickly, slitted eyes scouring the area for any movement. Something was here. Where, it did not yet know, but it would soon find out. Shoulders tense and split tail flicking in the air, it waited; ready for the right moment to pounce on its next victim. It mattered not how long it took. Hours or minutes; it made no difference. Any sign of food in this land was rare. There was no way that it would pass up such a fortunate opportunity for a quick meal. It was a predator after all. It would kill anything to survive.
In the corner of its eye, a flash of movement caught its attention. It whipped its head in the direction, every muscle coiled tight. Nothing met its fierce gaze, only more of the continually endless sand. On silent paws sporting wicked claws, the hollow stalked forward. With each carefully placed step, its body gravitated closer to the ground until it nearly glided across the sand like a snake.
A small cluster of speckled white rocks protruded from the ground, closely blending with the surroundings. The creature spotted at least five lizards, each adorning a small mask, huddled under a crevice in one of the larger rocks in an attempt to hide. As an imposing shadow loomed over the hiding place, they bolted, scampering away in different directions for the lives.
In a flash, the hollow was after them, maneuvering this way and that to catch the little morsels. Two of the lizards that ran in the same direction were both caught by their vicious pursuer, trapped under its powerful paws. No amount of squealing or desperate squirming did any good.
One of the lizards was gone in a single gulp; eaten whole. The next was bitten in half, each part of its wriggling body swallowed in haste. With his latests meal devoured, the creature turned to where the others were in the hope of catching more. But all it was only able to glimpse the vanishing tails of the small creatures as they burrow deep into the hard sand away from the reach of any predator.
The hollow irritatedly growled at the event's outcome, displeased that it did not get a larger meal for all its efforts. But at least he was able to gain something from this endeavor. That had been, after all, the first food it had in weeks.
Licking its lips, the hollow walked off in search of its next meal. It continually sniffed at the air and ground, trying to find where the weaker hollows were at that it could possibly defeat. It could sense by the scent how powerful other hollows were. The stronger ones it knew to stay away from. Such creatures would be able to end its existence in a heartbeat if it ever got too close. The weaker ones, however, it could take down with ease. The only problem was that they were few and far between on the surface of this desolate world where only few dared to venture.
So far, it was having no luck finding any weaker hollows nearby. There were no strong hollows for that matter either. Nothing was within fifty miles of its position. It huffed in annoyance, not looking forward to having to search aimlessly for food for days or weeks again.
Sitting back on its haunches, the beast decided to take a small rest before it continued hunting. It rested its head on its large paws, closing its eyes for a brief moment. Its tranquil peace did not last long.
Surrounded by the comforting blackness, the hollow's senses were pricked ever so slightly by an outside presence before vanishing. That was all it took for the hollow to become alert instantly, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. Its ears perked as it cautiously lifted itself up, moving into a fighting position on its lithe paws.
Searching for where the mysterious presence disappeared to, it was not able to pick up even the smallest trace of it by sense or smell. It did not matter how hard it concentrated, it found nothing. This situation did not feel right. Beings, no matter what kind, did not simply disappear. It did not happen. Not in Hueco Mundo. Especially if a particular defenseless one, such as it was for a less than a minute, was nearby.
Its slitted eyes combed the barren landscape carefully. On a faraway hill, something shimmered into existance. Immediately, the hollow's eyes locked onto it. The figure made no movements, standing absolutely still on the hilltop next to a petrified tree. The pale moon hanging forever in the cold night sky was positioned almost directly behind the being, casting it into dull shadows from the weak light, making it impossible for the hollow to make out any details of the figure from its position.
The figure on the hilltop made no move, keeping perfectly still. It seemed to be a humanoid creature in appearance with hair long enough to sway in the light breeze.
Still in its position to fight or run from where it stood, the hollow tentatively sniffed at the air, trying to get any sort of reading on who or what was in its sight. Its wet nostrils flared, taking in the scents in the area in one deep breath. At first, it could not determine how powerful the entity that it faced was. Not even the smallest trace was found in the air. Then, all at once, its senses were assaulted by a power so fierce that the hollow shuddered, muscles tensing and straining in order to keep upright and not fall to the sand.
It took an involuntary step backwards, body eager to get away from the being possessing this incredible strength. Its eyes never strayed from the monstrosity, making sure that it made no move that it was unaware of. The entity was a threat; a threat to its entire existence. If it did not escape before it took notice of its presence, then it might have a chance at hunting another day.
With slow, cautious, and carefully placed steps, the hollow gradually backed away from the small hill. If it were to increase the distance enough, then it would have the opportunity to make a break for it, hopefully without the potential predator taking notice. As long as it was out of range of the being's senses, then it would be free.
The hollow, still having its gaze locked on the figure, blinked. However, that was all it took for it to lose sight of what was on the hilltop. The spot the entity used to occupy was empty, leaving the hill barren save for the lone crystal tree. The petrified stone plant unexpectedly burst into pieces not a second after the figure vanished, not able to withstand the pure force the being had used simply to leave at such incredible speeds.
Eyes wide and panicked, the hollow whipped its head around in every direction, desperate to find the creature that had such destructive capabilities. Its tail flicked anxiously as it waited for an attack. Everywhere it looked, the hollow only found more desolate, white emptiness. No signs of the monster. Perhaps it had found another prey more worthy of its taste to hunt. It may be able to live another day; to be the hunter and not the hunted again.
With apprehensive caution, the hollow turned around to find a safer place to rest and get further away from the powerful foe. Right as it fully twisted, it found itself looking into the murky gold eyes of the humanoid figure it had been watching from afar. It froze instantly; terrified to move in the presence of this unknowingly powerful opponent. Its soulless eyes bore deep into its own, seeming to see its every thought and fear.
Without warning, the orange haired being shot forward and took the hollow's long muzzle in his hand. He shoved its head down into the pristine sand with such force that a small crater formed around where the hollow impacted.
More than slightly dazed from the swift and sudden attack, the hollow wearily regained its footing in haste. It brandished its claws, tail adorning several large spikes in preparation to make an offensive strike. If it was going to die, it would go down fighting.
The hollow struck quickly with its deadly tail, forcing its opponent to jump to the side out of reach. The being stood back up with back hunched, growling lowly in a threatening manner that put the hollow's fur on end. Before it could react, the creature pinned his prey to the cold ground on its back, unable to escape. The next instance, the hollow felt a crippling pain unlike any other it experienced before in its many battles pierce through its core.
Ichigo yanked his sword out of the creature's middle, tossing it aside as blood splashed across the sand, dying it a rich cherry red. He watched for a moment in sick enjoyment as the hollow vainly fought for air before diving into his meal. He devoured mouthful after mouthful of the precious flesh in swift succession, ignoring the rapidly fading protests of his victim as it tried in vain to move away. It knew it was going to die. This was the end for it. Its last thoughts faded away as the hollow's vision dimmed in a soft, white light.
Another viscous chunk of flesh slid down his burning throat, further easing the pain in his stomach more with each blissful bite. He was about to return to his feast for another euphoric taste when his meal rapidly broke down into black particles, drifting away into the endless night sky. An irritated growl escaped his lips as another perfect meal slipped through his grasp before he could finish. He was left covered in a thick layer of hot blood caking his pale face and hands.
At least what he was able to devour would appease his hunger for a short time. He only hoped that he would be able to locate more tender morsels before it came back again with a fierce vengeance. In one smooth motion, Ichigo raised his body while grabbing his discarded zanpakutou. He began to tread the disheveled land again in search for more scarce food.
As he walked, his glazed eyes gradually regained some of their shine, shifting to a darker shade of brown than the previous gold. His footsteps faltered before coming to a complete halt. One hand shakily rose to his mouth while the other wrapped tightly around his middle.
"Oh god..." he muttered, "No, not again." His legs buckled underneath him, his hands shooting out in front, desperate for balance. He landed hard on his knees and palms, both burning from the small granules stinging exposed flesh. In a jerky movement, Ichigo managed to situate himself in an upright sitting position with a soft hiss, legs sprawled around his form.
"No…" A small shake of the head. "No…" Bloodied fingers weaved into dirty, matted hair, gripping the clumped strands tightly. "No." Glistening eyes widened, panic rapidly encasing them. "No." His body slowly folded into itself. "No!" He began to tremble uncontrollably. "No!"
He screamed. Every emotion he usually tried to bottle up was released; all the anger, hate, resentment, frustration, fear, and the horrifying satisfaction that pierced his very core filled the air. It had been an endless cycle he was forced to endure; his hollow would force his will on him, making him become more of a monstrous hollow than a human hunt whatever hollow was nearby. He would eat whatever unfortunate creature he came upon until he was satisfied or itto broke down its spiritual particles, and then his senses would come flooding back, leaving him to realize what he had done. Then, the cycle would repeat itself. Lather, rinse, repeat.
He did not feel any pity for the creatures' deaths. Although a pang of sympathy never failed to pierce him. They were hollows after all, but it was the fact that he was eating them - eating them – that sickened him. The thought caused him stomach to flip, threatening to spill over for the umpteenth time, but Ichigo managed to keep it calmed. He had learned that if he did vomit, then he would lose his sense of self and humanity faster than if he let the revolting contents remain in his stomach.
In reality, the cycle had only repeated a handful of times, but it was more than enough to push Ichigo to the edge of insanity. He did not know how much more he could take. It was never-ending torture that he was sure would force the thin cracks in his psyche to spread until he shattered. And it terrified him. How much longer would it be? How many more times did he have to suffer through this living nightmare before he broke and his hollow governed his body while he rotted in the deepest, darkest corners of his inner world? He would never see the light of day again; left to his own chaotic, self-loathing thoughts as his hollow walked in his skin, taking on his identity as he slaughtered his friends, family, and anyone that crossed his path.
A brilliant spark of rage ignited in Ichigo at the thought. He could not give in to his personal demon and let the monster kill his friends and his family. He had no right. None. He – no, it – deserved to be thrown back to his inner world where it belonged; locked away with the key tossed.
"You…" he began, voice shaking in fury as much as his body, "You won't get away with this. I won't let you win."
He waited in tense silence for a response, but got nothing. He expected something; a chuckle, a quick retort from his silver tongue, a snark comment. Absolutely nothing was definitely not what he expected and it left him fuming.
"Hey, I know you can hear me!" Still no reply. His mind was void of any sound. "Of course the one time I actually want to talk to you, you aren't there." Ichigo slowly deflated, his anger seeping out of him as the depressing atmosphere from before came crashing down on him.
'Aw, poor little King,' the echoing voice purred, jolting Ichigo from his thoughts. 'Ya ready to give up so soon?'
The teen growled low in his throat, teeth grinding together. "Never! I said I'd never let you win!"
'That was clique. This ain't a movie ya know. The good doesn't conquer evil in an epic, glorious battle and ya don't get a happy endin',' the hollow commented slyly, 'This, happenin' right noow, is real life. Ya can't escape it by tryin' ta convince yerself that ya have any chance against me.'
"You cocky bastard!" His hands clenched in frustration. "I… That's not true! I can beat you. You're just not… not… Urg! I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you."
'Oh King, I'm hurt,' said the hollow in a mocking tone, 'An' there's no way ya can beat me. Last time ya barely did, so what makes ya think ya can do it now? Yer in no state ta fight an' I'm stronger than you. Stronger than the last time we fought by far. Ya don't stand a chance in hell against me. I'm enjoyin' the show fer now, but that's only 'cause I wanna watch you suffer and squirm before I dethrone ya fer good. Once ya break – once yer soul's been shattered into so many pieces that it's only dust, then I'll be the one in control havin' my fun.'
The monster's maniacal, terrible laughter bounced off the walls of Ichigo's mind, drowning out his thoughts in the piercing echo. He slammed his hands against his ears to stop the noise before his head split in two, eyes squeezed tight. As the laughter faded away, Ichigo slowly opened his eyes, glaring fiercely at a random spot in the nearly uniform sand. "Is that what you want then? Fine! Let's fight. Just you and me. No cheap, sick tricks like making me basically turn into a hollow. Let's fight and I'll show you how wrong you are! I'll beat you just like I did last time if that's what it's going to take to stop you!"
The hollow gave a non-comical snort. 'Ya can't seriously believe the shit yer spoutin'. I'm not gonna waste my time tryin' ta convince ya of how conceited and idiotic you are since it's obviously pointless. You. Are. Weak," he emphasized each word with venom lacing his voice, 'An' yer gonna realize it fer yerself sooner than ya think.'
"Hey! You bastard, what gives you the right to ruin my life?!" the orangette screamed with all his might. After the accusing words left his lips, the true meaning behind what he had said hit him. His life was, practically, ruined. No, it was more than ruined. It was destroyed; damaged beyond repair. He would never – never – be able to go back to the world of the living again. The Soul Society would be searching for him; out for his life. Everywhere he would or could go, they would be there looking for him. Nowhere would be safe and no one he knew or ever came into contact with would be either. After everything he did, all the lives he had taken – if it was him or his hollow, it didn't matter to them. It was all the same in the end. There would be no possible way that the Soul Society would forgive him, as ridiculous as that sounded. He was basically a walking corpse at this point, doomed to die by their hands or by the ruthless land of this world.
He would never be able to see his family or friends again. That revelation made his heart feel like it was pierced with ice. They were his whole life; the reason he fought to protect those he cared for with his entire being. Karin, Yuzu, his dad, Chad, Uryuu, Orihime, Rukia, Renji. He would never be able to see them again. For all he knew, the Seireitei could have captured them all, keeping them prisoner for interrogation or, even worse, torture in order to find out where he went or hold as leverage over him if he ever returned.
Ichigo brought his knees up to his chest slowly, arms wrapping around his legs and burying his head in the ripped, bloody cloth around his knees. His life was gone. Was there any point in fighting back anymore if his future only held horrid hardships and death?
In a soft, barely audible whisper, the teen softly spoke, "Why are you doing this to me?" He gripped his legs tighter, knuckles turning a near translucent white. "What did I ever do to you to have you torture me like this?"
He was not sure what kind of retort he was expecting from the hollow. Perhaps a jab at how vulnerable and weak he was acting. Maybe he would berate him for displaying such sappy emotions. But, what he got was nothing that he was prepared for.
Silence. His mindscape was utterly barren. Too quiet to be normal. His hollow would not pass up commenting in some way or another when presented with such a prime situation. Ichigo's stomach twisted in tight knots. He could feel that something bad was going to happen.
'… What?' came the reply at long last, hissed through clenched teeth. The pure anger, fury, and hate behind the one word sent a spike of fear racing down Ichigo's back. He tried to shrink away from the voice, hugging his knees closer to his chest, but he did not allow himself to be frightened away by simple inflection of tone.
"I said, why are you doing this?" he repeated, voice level and calm save for a slight nervous quiver. "Why have you always wanted to make my life a living hell without reason?"
A few quiet seconds passed before the hollow whispered with a menacingly dark voice, 'Whyam I doing this to you?' his accent had lessened, indicating just how serious he was, 'You wanna know why? Are you shittin' me!? How do you not know why? Are you that arrogant; that ignorant of everything that goes on around you?!'
"I… what?" Ichigo stuttered, taken aback by his hollow's sudden change in demeanor. He had never heard him act even remotely close to this before.
'Don't 'what' me! Do you honestly not have any clue what you've done?' Heavy, irritated breathing filled his head, 'Fine,' the furious being stated with a tone of finality, 'If you really don't know, then I'll show you.'
Before the teen had time to question what he meant, an uncomfortable pressure began building in his chest to the point that it hurt. It was like someone had his heart in a grip made of ice with cold claws digging into his flesh. In the next moment, he felt a sharp tug and his vision went black.
Everything around him was encompassed in darkness. He could not see anything, not even his hand in front of his face. He felt like he was falling, hearing the air wiz by his ears in a deafening roar. It was not long before his vision was engulfed, blinding his sight in white before becoming distinguished colors.
Before he had time to react, broken windows and blue, cracked concrete rose to greet him. His body crashed into the rugged surface, coming to a rough halt. With a slight moan, Ichigo hoisted his battered body up, balancing precariously on the crooked, obtruding pieces of rubble. He noticed how light his back was, missing the weight of Zangetsu constantly resting on it. Even with a quick survey of his surroundings, the weapon was not anywhere in sight.
A cold shiver dripped down his spine as an ominous, sinister presence pressed down on him from every angle. It was not solely caused by reiatsu, but the presence of something evil making his instincts kick into full throttle, screaming at him to run. Fast.
He took a deep breath, easing the tension built up in his muscles. The air stayed trapped in his lungs, filling every corner before being released in a slow and steady stream. With his resolve steeled, Ichigo pivoted on his feet, ready to face the presence.
The creature that he knew all too well.
Or so he thought.
In an instant, the black garbed Shinigami's eyes widened as he took in the drastic changes to the demon he stood across from. The white individual reflected his own outfit of tattered, ripped clothes. He had most of his hakama, but no kimono. The double's chest was exposed, covered in tribal markings from the sternum out towards the shoulders. In the center was an empty, circular hole. On his head was his hollow mask adorned with two identical bull-like horns jutting out from the sides. The mask was pulled away from his face to rest on the side of the being's head, revealing the pale face typically hidden from sight. Then, brown met yellow in a locked gaze. The hollow's eyes were dull, pained, and held only a furious rage within their depths. None of the typical glee shone through. Around the hollow was a dark, oppressive aura of malicious power, radiating off his body in thick waves. It caused the long alabaster hair to whip around in the turbulent air that it kicked up. All Ichigo could see was a ravenous beast ready to kill.
Ichigo stumbled backwards out of pure, unfiltered terror, his bare feet tripping over the uneven surfaces of the crumbling building. He had never seen this form of his hollow. Then again, he had not come face to face with him since they fought for control last time. Who knows what types of changes he had gone through during all that time. The fight with Ulquiorra came to his mind as he thought about how he never did figure out what his hollow had done to reduce the espada to that state. Perhaps what was before him was the cause.
The hollow's glare darkened immensely and he bore his teeth in a snarl. His grip on the Tensa Zangetsu at his side tightened, both bands shaking from pure fury. The hollow rounded his back, bent his knees, and launched himself through the air to his opposite.
Before the teen could react, the hollow slammed into his opponent, striking him in the chest with the butt of his sword. The teen flew back, rolling to a stop far away from where he once stood. He lay sprawled out on his back, mouth gaping open as he fought desperately for breath that had been knocked out of him. After many failed attempts, life-sustaining air flooded his lungs, leaving him gasping and coughing.
Wearily, he looked over at the hollow, but the second he set his eyes on him the demon vanished and reappeared directly in front of him with sword drawn back. Ichigo dodged to the side right as the blade met with concrete, sending a small cloud of debris to the air that lingered around the white figure.
Ichigo managed to scramble to his feet, putting some distance between him and his opponent. He desperately searched the crumbling building for anything that he could use to defend himself, but all he could see was decaying buildings. It was not a surprise, although it was disappointing all the same. Seeing nothing to aid him, the shinigami returned his attention to his hollow. The creature's breaths were coming short and hard, an audible growl accompanying each exhale.
"Are you happy now?" his voice boomed through the open space of the desolate landscape. He snapped his head towards the wide-eyed teen. "Are you?!" The hollow vanished in a static burst, the dust once surrounding him dissipating in a swirl. In the next second, he stood in front of Ichigo.
Without any warning, the youth could only raise his arms up. The hollow's white blade sliced upwards, cleaving a deep line through Ichigo's midsection and arms. A splash of blood erupted from the wounds. The crimson liquid staining the pure blade dripped off in rhythmic beads.
Not allowing the burning pain to distract him, Ichigo grit his teeth and brought his fists up in a fighting position. He would be damned if he went down without even trying to put up a fight. With quick precision, he made to strike his counterpart, using all of his prior experiences, he tried to land a hit. In spite of his efforts, the youth was not able to hit his target. The pale demon effortlessly dodged each attempted strike, face set in a glare at the wasted efforts. Growing annoyed at the feeble endeavor, the hollow abruptly struck out with a well placed kick to Ichigo's abdomen right where he was wounded minutes before.
The substitute skidded backwards and was able to catch his balance, heaving for air that would not sate his scorching lungs. His vision wavered, dimming around the edges as the ground tipped in a dizzying fashion. Yet, he still tried to stand with confidence, ready for the next attack.
"Ya really think that yer gonna be able to defeat me like this? Yer pathetic!" mocked the ivory devil, "Yer precious Zangetsu's not even willin' to help yer sorry ass, and yet ya still think you may have a chance if you give it yer all." He scoffed as he tossed his own Zangetsu in the air, catching it with a finger through one of the chain links. With a flick of the wrist, the weapon spun rapidly in a circle, carving a thin line into the concrete below. His eyes narrowed, mouth forming into a snarl as he watched the orange-headed teen's swaying form. "Yer not even worth it when yer like this."
In one quick motion, the hollow threw the stained blade at his prey, watching it soar through the air and pierce his target directly through his stomach. The beast smirked in dark glee as Ichigo wearily looked down at the weapon imbedded in his body before he fell to his knees and to the ground on his side. Leisurely, he made his way to the fallen form, taking slow, meticulous steps before he stood beside the panting shinigami.
"Pitiful." With a shove of his foot, he pushed the teen onto his back. The sword embedded in his gut was forced to slide out partially, making the orangette whimper in pain. "An attack like this would have never stopped ya before. Now look at ya. Yer just a pathetic, weak, foolish, sorry excuse fer a King.
"This is what ya wanted, wasn't it?" he added, "Ya wanted a fight, an' ya got one."
"This… isn't… a fight," Ichigo ground out through clenched teeth. He rose to his elbows, muscles quaking from the effort. "This isn't a fair fight… You're not giving me a chance." A weak tug on the cold steel moved it minutely. Ichigo's brow furrowed, glistening with sweat.
"It isn't fair? Huh," the hollow huffed, a thoughtful look flashing onto his features, "Kinda like how you've treated me all those times before? When you automatically assumed I was some evil, viel, low beast incapable of any thought other than raging madness. Not fair like all the times you pushed me away after I saved your worthless life over and over? Or how about when you completely denied my help, pushing me away again even when I helped you win against that flower petal captain?" he seethed, eyes alight with barely restrained fury. His accent had been lost again. "And let's not forget how it wasn't fair when you never, not even once, thought to ask if I really was trying to hurt you!"
The heated reply left Ichigo gaping for a response, shocked at what he had been told. The hollow grasped the white hilt of his weapon still residing in the boy's abdomen and angled the edge down, making the blade carve further into its victim's soft flesh. The squelch of blood preceded the renewed flow of shimmering red, causing the teen's arms to give out as he fell back down onto to wet building.
Bending down close enough where he could feel the hot breath from his King's mouth, the hollow looked directly into his other's eyes. "Don't you ever talk to me about fairness since you know nothing about it." The blade sliced deeper. "Do you even know how many times I tried to call out to you? To plead with you time and time again that I was not the bad guy? But you simply couldn't have it. In your eyes, I had to be an evil monster no matter what I did to try to convince you otherwise."
He adjusted his grip on the zanpakutou, twisting it. Ichigo wheezed in pain coughing blood that slowly traveled down his chin. "You didn't even consider the possibility that, maybe, I was actually trying to help!" he snarled, "What about that drooling brat you found in the desert when you went to rescue that big-breasted air-head? You didn't even question her. You accepted and protected her! Why couldn't you do the same thing for me?!"
The hollow was left panting, shaking in anger. After a few tense seconds elapsed, he scoffed and pulled the blade out of his victim's stomach, holding it loosely by his side. The porcelain metal gleamed in the light of the crumbling world, reflecting the shinigami's broken body on the ground as he lay coughing harshly.
Still staring at his opponent's crippled body, the hollow's eyes lost all their shine, leaving his visage cold and empty. "If you had just listened to me - just given me a chance - then we wouldn't be in this position." He lowered his head, casting dark, foreboding shadows across his features. "I wouldn't have become the monster you always saw me as."
He tightened his grip on his stained sword and raised the weapon, ready to strike. "Don't you dare say that this this ain't fair 'cause it's your own damn fault that all this is happening. You brought this on yourself. You deserve this!"
The tip of the blade shot forwards, aimed for the substitute's head. Ichigo had no time or energy to evade. Right as the zanpakutou should have split flesh and shattered bone, Ichigo's world turned into a blinding white.
The pain never came.
He waited in the encompassing light for something - anything - to happen, but nothing did. As Ichigo wondered why this was, he felt a harsh shove that nearly knocked the wind out of him. Then, he slammed back to his senses. Slowly, painfully slowly, shades of color began to decorate parts of his sight, replacing the empty white with dark tones of gray and black. Everything was tilted vertically, leading the orangette to realize that he was currently sprawled on his side in the familiar pale sand.
'For everything you've done, you deserve to suffer,' the hollow added before sending another crippling wave of his reiatsu through Ichigo without warning.
For a brief few seconds, Ichigo spasmed where he lay. Every cell in his body burned like hellfire. It lasted longer than the last times, but, like all the others, the pain eventually subsided. With hollow instincts in control for the time being, the shinigami rose from the ground, stalking off into the distance.
Chapped, split lips dried out by the stale air of the desert parted as a hoarse growl rumbled from his throat. Gleaming teeth reflected the light from the crescent moon above, exposing the increasing sharpness of the canines and other surrounding teeth.
Like every time previous during this nightmarish, endless night, Ichigo vanished in a static flash in search of his next victim to satisfy the insatiable hunger in his stomach.
A quiet, desolate corner of Hueco Mundo was without a single sound. It was void of everything except for the untouched granules of sand and vacant night sky. Cool, stale air pervaded the landscape, unmoving and choking from the absence of even the slightest breeze. It was a suffocating environment in its entirety despite the vast expanses, giving reason to why no life could be seen for miles in any direction.
One could go made staying here for any amount of time.
A brief sweep of wind disturbed the otherwise still environment, causing the individual particles to skid across the hard surface. Another longer burst of wind swept across the desert floor, followed by more powerful gusts one after the other that soon became chaotic bursts stirring up swirls of sand.
A bright flash illuminated the eternal night sky in a brilliant display of light, transforming into a simply, elegant set of doors. In a dramatic fashion, the doors parted, revealing another set behind them that soon opened as well. White mist escaped from the opening, crawling across the air and rolling almost on top of an invisible floor.
From the light emitted from the doorways, two sets of feet emerged. First, the individuals stepped onto the platform not existing in sight, but each immediately jumped from their place in the sky to the ground below. Their black robes fluttered in their descent, filling the air with snaps as their clothing fought against the rushing air. They gently touched down on the disturbed landscape with barely a sound. With a quick survey of their surroundings, they deemed it safe for them to relax for the moment.
Theatrical entrance finished, the two shinigami turned to each other, guards dropped slightly but never fully releasing them in case something decided to try to make a meal out of them.
"Well, we're here. Back in this dump," Renji said unenthusiastically, kicking the sand with a disappointed scowl. "Horray."
"Shut it Renji," Rukia stated breathlessly, "We're not here to go sight-seeing. We came to find-"
"Ichigo," the redhead interjected, "I know, I know. It's not like I could forget with you mumbling to yourself the whole way here. It was driving me nuts," he muttered the last part in hushed tones so that Rukia would not hear. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, "So, where should we start looking for the trouble-maker?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe just pick a random direction, cross our fingers, and hope that Ichigo's that way," the petite noble sarcastically drawled. She reached up as far as her arm would stretch and smacked Renji on the back of the head. He yelped at the abrupt attack, ducking out of reach from his childhood friend. "Think things through for once! Ichigo is constantly releasing reiatsu, so, even with how large Hueco Mundo is, we should be able to track him down."
The short woman turned away, crossing her arms across her chest. "And stop trying to act all macho. You look like an idiot."
"I am not!" the sixth-division lieutenant pouted. He gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as his mouth pulled into a thin line, "Look, let's just find the stupid strawberry so we can go home. I'd rather not be here any longer than we have to."
A slight nod was the only acknowledgement he received from his partner. Without exchanging anymore words, they reached out in every direction with their senses, searching for any sign of life that could eventually lead them to their desired target. Trendles of their consciousness' grazed over the landscape, scouring for something besides continual desolation.
Minutes elapsed in tense silence as neither soldier found a trace of any living organisms, hollow or human alike. Rukia growled in annoyance and frustration. Why could they not find even the slightest fragment of reiatsu from a low-level hollow? It should not be as difficult as it was currently. They were in the infamous land of the hollows, so it would be expected to have found at least one nearby. But there was not a trace wherever they looked.
Rukia sighed and opened her eyes, previously closed from concentration. "Renji, I can't find any signs of life."
"Neither can I," he responded, "Something is definitely wrong. Last time we were here, there were hollows everywhere even if it was those annoying lizards."
A light hum was all Rukia gave as a reply. Her hand cupped her chin while the other held her elbow. "If we're going to find Ichigo, then-"
The words caught in her throat, haulting her mid-thought. Her red-headed partner mirrored her; eyes wide, mouth open partially, and sweat beginning to bead on each of their foreheads. The crushing reiatsu surrounding their forms was more powerful than even a captain's. It felt like a hollow at first, but after a moment longer, something felt… off. The reiatsu was like a hollow, but it seemed to have traces of something else intermixed. A familiar force scratched at their senses that should have been easy to discern. It was tainted and twisted so much that it was practically foreign; void of nearly everything that had given it identity before.
Tensely, a forceful gulp traveled through the strained muscles of Rukia's delicate neck. Her mouth opened hesitantly, chapped lips trying to form around the words caught on her tongue. However, she could not utter a single syllable. The short noble merely closed her mouth resolutely as determination harboured in her indigo eyes.
Without warning, the shinigami took off, leaving her tattooed companion gaping in the wake of her dust. Not waiting for him to catch up to her vanishing form, Rukia sped towards the location where the twisted reiatsu - wrong in every way imaginable - was the strongest. She ran as hard as she could, fearful of the terrible thoughts pounding in her mind. Renji soon joined her, keeping pace by her side with a matching look of worry.
The source of such astonishing power was further away than they had thought. The shinigami had been running for minutes, using shunpo occassionally, and had still not found their friend. It was increasingly frustrating that the reiatsu source kept bouncing around from one location to another, forcing the two to change direction whenever it occurred. It was more than irritating. When they thought they were getting close, the source would vanish and reappear just as quickly in a different direction.
The reiatsu changed locations again, causing the soldiers to slide to a hault. Rukia growled in anger, fists clenching tight in frustration before she took off running again. "Come on," she yelled furiously, "This is ridiculous. Stay in one place!"
Renji's thoughts were on the same path. They had been at this for quite some time now and it was exhausting and infuriating to no end. They probably looked like chicken's with their heads cut off by how they were running around everywhere. He would have been embarrassed if someone else was around to see this spectacle.
Finally, a spot of bright color became visible ahead of them, a stark contrast to the dull, dark colored scenery they had been seeing for quite some time. Immediately upon seeing a possible sign of life, the black-garbed warriors hastily shunpoed closer before they lost sight of it, desperate to stop the chase.
As they steadily approached the being, it became clear that the now notably humanoid figure did not even move as they neared. It stood perfectly still as its bright hair swayed in the non-existence breeze. They came to a quick stop in one last flash of shunpo, leaving about ten feet in between them and the being they had been desperately searching for.
Rukia's eyes widened in surprise at what stood before them. Renji's response was the opposite of a slight narrowing of his eyes. Standing before them in his mangled garb, was Ichigo.
At least something that resembled the substitute.
The teenager was bare-chested with torn pant legs. His skin, wherever it was exposed, was an unhealthy, pale white that bordered on albinism. Gray tribal markings branched out from the center of his chest, darker at the center and becoming lighter as the marks traveled towards his shoulders, spiraling down his arms and legs in fading, graceful lines. His hands and feet ended in gray-colored claws coming to a slight point on each digit. His strikingly orange, straight hair came down slightly past his shoulders when not swaying around his face. Blackened eyes looked at them filled with dim, unreflecting gold. The worst part, by far, about his appearance was the fact that he was covered with thick layers of blood, both old and new. It was firmly caked to his skin like a plaster, small pieces flaking off occasionally. The thick liquid was smeared over his face as well, giving the teen a feral look. Velvet droplets fell from his fingertips, soaked up by the parched sand.
A full minute passed by with not a single word being said as the two shinigami attempted to gain their bearings and process the sight before them. No one moved. Overwhelming, oppressive silence overtook the surroundings, leaving heavy weights on the warriors' shoulders.
Rukia tentatively parted her lips, taking a shaky breath. She tried to form her dry mouth around her words with crippling difficulty, only managing to utter audible words after many failed attempts, "I...Ichigo?" She hoarsely whispered barely loud enough for even Renji to hear her. The noble swallowed thickly, licking her lips and beginning again with a louder voice, "Ichigo, is that really you?"
The twisted creature before them did not make a move. With soulless, unblinking eyes he continued to stare blankly at the people before him. Only the slight irregular rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that he truly was alive.
"Oh god," Rukia muttered, eyes growing wider in disbelief, "What happened to you? H-how did this… I…" She searched his opaque face for a response or answer of any kind. Her eyes flittered across his features, pleading for something - anything at all.
Time ticked on with not even a twitch of the vizard's muscles.
Rukia released a sigh of frustration, her gaze falling to the white sand and the small specks of red intermixed. She distantly watched as they drifted about on the top layer of earth, breaking into smaller pieces before dissipating completely. It was hardly a distraction from her turmoiling thoughts.
Her eyes hardened as she came to a decision. "Ichigo, please… come back with us to the Soul Society and we'll help you. We'll find a way to get you back to normal just… please come with us. It doesn't matter what happened or what you hollow has done. We'll get you the help you need." Her fists clenched and shook with anger, "And if the captains don't agree with aiding you, then we'll figure something else out. As long as we can get you the hell out of this place and somewhere safe, then I don't care who we have to cross!"
"Rukia…" Renji said cautiously, slightly taken aback by her brash words.
"No, I mean it Renji," she stated with finality, turning towards her companion, "Look at him. This is what they've forced him to become. We can't simply hand him back over to them if all they're going to do is make him even worse or kill him for all we know! We're his friends, Renji. We can't always sit by and follow orders. We have to help him just like he has done for us countless of times before and damn the consequences." She turned back around to fully face the creature the orange-headed teen had become, resolve set deep within her features. She took a confident step forward, only to be blocked by the arm of the sixth-division lieutenant.
The tattooed man could not help but feel a sense of danger radiating from the figure before them. For the entire time they had been near the substitute, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. And at the moment, approaching him did not seem like the best decision. However, the fierce glare he received upon his actions showed that his comrade did not feel the same way. The fire in her eyes prompted him to remove his arm from her path, despite his instincts screaming at him not to. But, he knew that there would be no convincing her otherwise when she had her mind set on something such as this.
The young noble stalked forwards with conviction. "Ichigo," she said, reaching out to him with an open hand, "Come with us," she now stood nearly five feet away from the teen, "Please…"
Her quick reflexes honed by years of combat saved her from the eobony blade aimed at her neck.
Rukia jumped back further, out of range from her assailant. Stepping back by Renji's side, she took a hesitantly defensive stance nearly mirroring her partner who had already drawn his sword. The previously unmoving form of the vizard slowly began to move forward, placing one clawed foot in front of the other as a dark shadow covered his pale face, accenting the newly formed gleam festering in his eyes. Not wishing to come within range of his swing, the two shinigami backpedaled away from the creature they faced.
"What are you doing?" Rukia questioned, her own sword now drawn, "It's us, your friends, so stop this at once!"
Her words fell on deaf ears as Ichigo gave no indication of hearing her. After a few more steps, his lips twitched upwards into a smile that soon broke out into a full grin, revealing white, red stained, feral teeth sharper than should be natural. A low laughter bubbled past his lips with increasing volume, quickly becoming maniacal. It gradually dimmed to low chuckles before the teen took in a long breath, "Kill…" he spoke gruffly, "Kill… Kill… Kill. Kill. Kill!" Ichigo repeated with every step in increasing volume, speeding his approach towards his next meal that would fill the empty, burning ache plaguing him.
"Please Ichigo, stop!" Rukia continued to plead.
"It's no use, Rukia, he's not going to listen to reason!" Renji yelled, "Not while he's in this state."
With a burst of power, the hollow that was once their faithful comrade disappeared in a static burst only to reappear a fraction of a second later inches away. The shinigami tried to move, but found themselves paralyzed by the suppressing force of the reiatsu from their close friend pressing down on them from all sides. Grinning madly, Ichigo raised his sword above his head, cackling with glee.
"Ichigo!"