Bleach (c) Tite Kubo

Black and Blue

Captain of my Soul

Ichigo bolts awake and instantly recognizes the sideways slant of his inner world, filled to the brim with skyscrapers that stretched into the skies forever. He's in his shihakusho and Zangetsu's blade is wrapped at his side.

He frowns, trying to puzzle out how he got here.

Last thing he remembers, Ichigo had passed out on his bed, so exhausted from countless sleepless nights he barely had energy to shuck his uniform in favour of pajamas.

"Coulda killed ya about a thousand times over with how long yer' takin' to get your ass in gear, King."

The Hollow's distorted voice echoes throughout the space, distorted and snarky, and Ichigo snaps to his feet, Zangetsu in hand and a fearful spike adrenaline racing through his veins.

The Hollow is his monochrome double; the same face, the same clothes, even the same voice to a twisted degree. His eyes gleam gold, a feral grin splits his face and an inverted mimic of Zangetsu hangs on his back.

"Thought it was long past time for you and me ta have a personal chat, King. But if yer really itchin' ta start a fight that bad, I'll skip all that talkin' ya love so much and give ya one." The Hollow's grin widens.

Ichigo tightens his grip on his Zanpakuto, keeping his blade ready to parry or strike. He scans his surroundings, frowning when he doesn't find the other familiar spirit he's looking for, "Where's Old Man Zangetsu?"

The Hollow puts a show gazing towards the open sky to their side, head tilted like he's listening to from something, "Oh, the Old Man's still around. Can't ya sense him?" He mocks, taking on a threatening edge, "Don't bother tryin' ta call him out. He won't answer. We've had our own little chit-chat and he agreed ta bow out for a little while - give us a chance ta sort out this little... disagreement of ours. Ain't that just saintly o' him, King?"

Ichigo doesn't relax. Not with this threat staring right in his face. His jaw clenches while he thinks how to get himself out of this situation.

All the other times Ichigo's been in his inner world, its always something else pushing or pulling him in.

Last time, it was Zangetsu guiding him to this space during that skirmish with Zaraki Kenpachi. But if the Hollow's to be believed, Zangetsu won't hear him even if Ichigo tries to call out his name. He growls through gritted teeth. "Bastard. What the hell did you do to Zangetsu? How'd you cut him out?"

"Ain't too bright, are ya?" The Hollow sighs, ridicule dripping from every word, "I didn't do anythin' ta him. Didn't say he won't hear ya either, just that he won't answer. He's still here. Seems ta have faith in ya to figure this mess out all by your lonesome." The Hollow scoffs, "Can't say the feelin's mutual."

White hot fury sears through Ichigo and it burns away the edge of fear gnawing in his gut. He concentrates for a second and could sense some truth to the Hollow's words. Old man Zangetsu is still lingering beneath the surface, not erased or destroyed per Ichigo's gut reaction, just... out of the way. Observing.

If anything, Ichigo swears he gets the impression of a parent locking two unruly children in a room to scuffle and hash out their differences. He's not sure how to feel about that, but he's relieved the old man's still there.

That being said, his relief was temporary. A drop of water in a scorching desert before he refocused his attentions on the Hollow.

This haunting apparition has been the bane of his existence since that fight with Byakuya. He has no interest in anything it has to say and just wants it gone.

"Now, why are ya makin' that scary face? Here I am bein' the bigger man and offerin' ya parley - and all ya doin' is glowerin' like I'm somethin' ya stepped on." The Hollow prods gleefully, he thumps a fist over his chest. "That hurts me, King. Right here."

"Can't say I feel terribly broken up about that." Ichigo counters coldly, he still has Zangetsu in hand and his eyes are glued to his Hollow counterpart, but he slowly begins to walk, if only to easy that nervous twitch to do something.

The Hollow matches him and they're circling each other, a pair of hunters sizing up their competition.

"I'm not letting you take over my body again if that's what you're after, so you can just forget it. No matter how many nightmares you try to torment me with or how loudly you keep screaming in my head, I'm not gonna just let you have your way." Ichigo declares boldly.

His confidence is feigned. Truthfully, he has no idea if he can win against this thing if it comes down to a straight-up fight. But the prospect of being kicked out of the metaphorical driver's seat wasn't one he relished. Furthering that, the idea of being consumed by this vindictive prick wasn't just terrifying beyond Ichigo's capacity to describe, it was a shamefully pathetic end to boot.

Ichigo cannot - will not let that happen. And if that meant having to beat this damn thing into the dirt, he'd do exactly that.

"If I wanted ta take over your body, I'd of chopped off yer head while you were still in a daze back there and taken it all for myself." The Hollow answers breezily, then seems... wistful? "If only ya'd let me help every now and again, ya'd have a much easier time takin' down your enemies. Or have ya forgotten all the times I've already saved yer life?"

Ichigo grits his teeth, a hard glare etched on his face and he swallows down a lump in his throat. "I admit it then. You did save my life against Byakuya. And probably against Kenpachi too. Do you want me to thank you, is that it? Then you have my thanks. But just because you saved my life those times doesn't mean I'm about ready to hand everything over to you wrapped up in a pretty little bow."

The Hollow scoffed, hefting his white Zangetsu over his shoulder, "I can't believe you. You really are denser than a neutron star, ain't ya King? What's with all this 'You, you, you' crap?"

Ichigo's eyes narrow, jaw clenching tightly, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

The Hollow shakes his head and snorts, "Ya really weren't payin' attention to that asshole, were ya? Don't ya get it, King? Big brother basically handed ya all the answers on a silver platter and ya still refuse to understand a thing he was sayin'. Only way he coulda made it more obvious is if he drew fuckin' flashcards and organized a goddamn fireworks display. Shadows. Reflections - any o' that stuff ringin' any bells in that empty cavern between yer ears?"

Ichigo blinks, his lips part momentary stupefied then shakes his head to clear it. "I don't care what you have to say; I'm not giving you the chance to threaten my friends and family, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let you turn me into some kind of monster."

The Hollow straightens up, his lips pressing in a dangerously thin line and for the first time, he's not smiling. His face is deadly serious. "Don't say I didn't try to give you the easy way out, King. You brought this on yourself." The Hollow draws his own Zangetsu and that grin is back, edged with sadistic glee, "Seein' as ya don't seem to wanna listen ta reason, I guess I shoulda just done this from the start."

The first strike is brutal and Ichigo only just manages to block the downward slash. Sparks fly and the impact resonates in Ichigo's bones. His hands are numb. Another wild strike sweeps in from his left and a third stab goes for his guts.

Ichigo parries, blocks and deflects them with scant nanoseconds to spare. The white blade nicks his Shikahusho, tearing clothing but Ichigo's reflexes are enough to avoid blood being spilt... barely.

The Hollow is relentless, his cackles are a mocking chime that echo throughout the inner world.

Ichigo narrowly manages to push back and return a sweeping strike of his own, but the Hollow simply jumps to avoid it, utterly bored by this entire exercise.

The Hollow releases of his blade, snatching the cloth wrap to spin it around and throws the damn thing like a dart.

Ichigo dives out of the way, but the white blade seemly has a life of its own and swings around like a whip. There's not enough time to bring Zangetsu up in a parry and it slices a line cleanly through the right sleeve of his shihakusho, sinking deep into his flesh. Crimson spills from the sleeve and Ichigo retreats in a flight of Shunpo.

The Hollow isn't too far behind, spinning his white Zangetsu like a pinwheel. "You need to do better than that Ichigo, or else I'll end up killing you!" His howling laughter chases after Ichigo, who dodges another projectile.

Before the Hollow can yank his blade back, Ichigo lunges forward and strikes at the black cloth. If he cuts it, the Hollow won't be able to retrieve the blade. He'll be disarmed and Ichigo can beat the bastard down.

Zangetsu strikes true and the cloth does warp under Ichigo's strength, but it curls and writhes like a snake out of the blade's path.

The white Zangetsu yanks itself out of the ground, sending up a mess of debris and dust that blinds Ichigo for a split second.

"Really?" The Hollow's distorted tones hiss in Ichigo's ear, sounding for all the world like an exasperated teacher.

A swift knee to Ichigo's kidneys sends him to the ground wheezing while the Hollow looms above him.

Ichigo manages to turn his head and see the terrifying specter looming over him. A monster with its fangs bared, ready to sink deep in his throat and horror locks him in place. "There ya go again, tryin' to apply logic to somethin' like this. Did ya think cuttin' the cloth would work? What - didja really think you could disarm me like that? It's as much a part of Zangetsu as the blade itself and it'll take just as much effort ta break."

This thing is going to kill him, and there's nothing Ichigo can do about it. This monster -

He's not a monster because you're not a monster.

The words float unbidden to the forefront of Ichigo's mind. The Hollow's sword comes down, cratering the building's surface and Ichigo managed to avoid with a flight of Shunpo.

Fighting like this, fighting in general, has a strange way of clearing all distractions from the mind. Maybe its because there's a sort of rhythm to it that allows a warrior to fall into a trance and focus on nothing but the moment, to living past the next clash of blades. And in that clarity, his cousin's words float back to Ichigo.

Acknowledging that darkness within us isn't handing over control to our lesser natures, its simply accepting them as part of who we are.

Ichigo draws in a steadying breath, that conversation worming its way to the forefront of his mind, and raises Zangetsu in preparation to counter his Hollow's lunging strike.

He clenches his jaw, eyes zeroed in on the Hollow and -

Ichigo throws with all his might. Zangetsu pinwheels away to his side and vanishes over the edge of the skyscrapers. Even the Hollow's stupefied by the action.

Part of him screams he's insane for doing something so suicidal and demands he be terrified at being helpless before a merciless creature. But some deeper part, something intrinsic to his being - an instinct - tells him this was the only way.

Ichigo's eyes slide closed and he clings to one thought with his entire being. The Hollow is not an other; it's not an enemy. It's a part of him, it's his shadow.

The White Zangestu pierces through Ichigo's chest with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

And Ichigo feels nothing.

He's been stabbed quite a few times over his tenure as a Shinigami and knows exactly what kind of pain to expect from these types of injuries, but this isn't pain. It feels like he's been struck by a nasty albeit concentrated gust of wind.

Well. It made sense, right? The Hollow was him. The darkest possible aspects of himself, but still him. The powers were his. Since they were born from his own soul, they should never had been able to hurt him in the first place. The concept seems so laughable now he thought about it.

Ichigo slowly pries open his eyes and is confronted by a very miffed looking Hollow, "Tsk... About fuckin' time ya figured out ya needed me, dumbass..."

Its surreal to see the white Zangetsu is still sticking out of his chest, but its edges are wavering. Seconds pass and the blade evaporates into nothing, leaving no evidence Ichigo was impaled in the first place.

Ichigo releases the shaky breath he didn't realise he was holding, astounded his gamble paid off and he stumbles back from his Hollow, who simply stands there and reluctantly straightens from his combat stance.

The White doppelganger is pouting, staring at his empty hand like a sulking child who just had their favourite toy confiscated.

Taking a good long look at him now, its... so bizarre. Ichigo can't even feel a trace of that fear anymore. Every ounce of terror he'd felt until now completely vanished, and honestly it all seems so completely irrational.

Whatever subconscious impulse had cast the Hollow in a manic monstrous light is gone, and its like a veil has been lifted. Practically night and day. In truth, the Hollow doesn't seem all that scary. Childish and petulant and prone to tantrums? Oh, absolutely yes... but not the personification of dread Ichigo had come to view it as these past months.

And when I learned, I realized that there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place.

Gez. That was a leap of faith if there ever was one. Ichigo thinks, rubbing a hand against his chest unconsciously and feeling no entry wound.

The silence stretches, and for all Ichigo knew it could've lasted hours before he broke it. He ventures carefully, "Look, just... don't try to attack me again and I won't try to hurt you either. Deal?"

The Hollow sulks at him, "Ya know, that Yakuza wannabe's a real prick. Bastard spilt all the beans and totally sucked the fun outta tormenting ya..."

Biting back a delirious little laugh at that inane description, Ichigo scratches the back of his head, "I'm pretty sure that was his entire point, yeah. But... getting an honest look at you now..."

"What?" The Hollow barks,

Ichigo just shrugs, he's well beyond caring. With his adrenaline spent and battle high evaporated, his fatigue slams into him like a freight train and Ichigo squats, letting his arms hang over his knees and his head drop. Exhaling a heavy breath, he rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm, all the while the Hollow is grumbling and muttering to himself like an irritated child.

Hoisting himself back to his feet, Ichigo turns to face his white mimic. "... what's your name?"

The Hollow's head snaps around so fast, its amazing he didn't crick his neck. "The hell did ya say?"

"I asked what's your name?" Ichigo repeats, tired but digging into some unknown reserve of patience he never realised he had, "Unless you want me to keep shouting 'Hollow' whenever I want to talk to you."

Despite popular opinion, Ichigo was raised with some manners... even if he chooses not to employ them every now and again.

Something unreadable passes over that alabaster face and the Hollow's silent for the longest minute of Ichigo's life. "Pick one."

Ichigo blinks, "Excuse me?"

"Ya ain't deaf; I said gimme a name."

Ichigo ponders it for a long moment before offering a dumb shrug, "... Shirosaki?"

The Hollow glares at him, thoroughly unimpressed and slaps Ichigo upside the head.

"Hey! What the hell did I just say about not attacking me!" Ichigo barks, rubbing his new lump.

"That ain't an attack; that was an allergic reaction ta stupidity. Think of a better name." The hollow demands.

Ichigo throws his hands up, "Look, I can barely keep my eyes open, damn it. And I'm pretty crappy with names in the first place, so sue me. Fine. Whatever. I'm calling you Shiro. If you don't like it; tough."

The Hollow rolls his eyes, lips pulling down in displeasure. "Shiro. That's it? Just 'Shiro'? Ya have the imagination of a brain-dead lemming, ya know that?"

"Take it or I scream hollow every time I wanna talk to you." Ichigo snaps back.

The Hollow - Shiro folds his arms. "... where do you get the balls?"

Ichigo shoves his hands into his hakama's pockets and answers breezily, "If I said it had nothing to do with you not having a sword anymore, I'd be lying."

"Still got arms an' legs, King. Even without a sword, I can think up plenty o' ways ta knock ya flat on yer ass." Shiro counters with a feral grin. It doesn't have that earlier lethal edge; challenging sure, but more scoping out a potential rival than prey.

Ichigo throws his hands up in exasperation, "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you could. Just stop giving me nightmares already, would you? If I don't get enough rest, I'll end up losing focus in the middle of a fight and then I'll die for certain. Pretty sure that'll spell trouble for you too."

"Only if I get regular sparring matches; there ain't much ta do in this world and I'm gonna die of boredom otherwise."

"And wouldn't that just be a tragedy..." Ichigo sasses, rolling his eyes at Shiro's own indignant glare, "Sparring it is. Just keep it to the weekends or something; or nights I can actually afford to lose a little sleep."

"And I wanna take a stab at that Kaien jerk." Shiro continues listing off his demands,

"Why? Because he ruined your favourite hobby? Gez, you spent all our conversation screaming at me to pay attention and now you're complaining because I actually followed his advice?" Ichigo rolls his eyes sarcastically. Considering the hobby in question was tormenting him? Ichigo's pretty damn glad of that.

"And I wanna fight too. Yer want me to be all nice n' quiet-like? That's my price. Take it or leave it, King."

"Living in my head rent-free and you got the gall to act this damn pushy? Fine, it's a done deal. Just... do whatever you want. Except take over my body. Alright? And if you're planning on dragging me here for another spar, send a little heads up first so I can lie down or something. Last thing I want is to collapse in the middle of a street or a conversation because you got a little too sword happy."

Shiro grumbles under his breath, "It'll have ta do. Now get the hell outta here."

Ichigo doesn't have time to react before Shiro kicks him square in the back, right off ledge of the skyscraper.

And Ichigo flops out of his bed in the real world, landing with a hard thump, feeling a jolt of pain up his right arm and gives a loud curse. "Ah... what an asshole."

Without his will or input, Ichigo's left hand slaps his smarting right arm. "Hey! What the hell did I just say? Don't renege, you jerk."

The sound of someone blowing raspberries fills his brain (accompanied by distant amusement from old man Zangetsu) and Ichigo rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, because that's real mature..."

"A little sea birdy told me that ya had a pretty interestin' conversation the other day."

Ichigo tries his best not to groan in irritation, outwardly at any rate.

Its lunchtime, he's slouched against the fence on the school roof and he's had a piss poor time of it today.

Thanks to Shiro's little fever dream last night, Ichigo woke up late this morning, missed the last bus thanks to some pesky Hollow trying to munch of a trio of souls (performed Konso as quickly and respectfully as he could) and arrived half an hour late. Two teachers chewed him out for skipping out on assignments; Keigo's needling him for playing hooky last week to get a three-day weekend, and to top it all off? He'd forgotten his damned lunch. (Yuzu'll cry and make him feel absolutely terrible, she always worked so hard to make them).

Ichigo's tired. He's hungry - he'd even go as far as to say hangry.

The last thing he needs right now is Shinji freaking Hirako yapping off his ear off about this and that.

"Ya wanna know somethin' funny?" Shinji begins conversationally, that unnerving grin plastered on his face, Ichigo doesn't answer. The bastard'll just ignore him anyway. He smells a lingering whiff of something delicious, and when Shinji puts down a small plastic bag, Ichigo spies pork bun wrappers inside. "Hainawa's only a level 4 Kido. We're talkin' some of the most basic o' basic stuff a student gets the gist of at the end of their second, maybe third class at Shin'ou Academy. A full power spell chant against a target of equal strength? Only supposed ta only last ten minutes or so; Hiyori was bound up in that park for six hours. Six hours of blissful silence. O' Course, she hollered an' raged when she got back home. Damn near made our ears bleed; gave Kaien a couple hard lumps for good measure. Was a hell of a show. Shoulda seen it."

Shinji snickers at the schadenfreude.

Ichigo's first instinct is to wince in pity and facepalm in irritation, but considering that girl tried to abscond with his body as blackmail? Yeah, his pity pool's kind of tapped out.

"Why are you still here?" Ichigo demands flatly.

"Someone has ta keep an eye on ya, in case that pesky little Hollow of yours decides ta turn your classmates into lunch." Shinji answers candidly.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Ichigo huffs then slouches against the fence with his arms crossed, "Well, you can stop with all the rigmarole. Kaien's already helping me get a handle on things, so there's no reason for you to stick around anymore, is there?"

"I'll be the judge of that. Ya ain't gettin' rid of me that easily, Ichigo." Shinji counters breezily, he leans back with his hands in his pockets, Ichigo can feel those brown eyes on him, "To tell ya the truth; I respect the hell outta the guy and like him well enough, Kaien's chasin' a pipe dream."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Ichigo questions, eyebrow arched.

"See, he thinks ya can skip the usual steps and go straight ta workin' together with your Hollow." Shinji explains absently, "He may have told ya, but the circumstances behind his Hollowfication was different to ours. Kisuke theorised because of that and some other unknown factors, he was uniquely able ta come to a mutual pact with his Hollow. Without goin' through the usual trainin' we cooked up to crush it inta submission."

"Is that right?" Ichigo muses, he's still irritated but he doesn't deny a morbid curiosity with the topic.

"Kisuke figures Kaien's situation is an anomaly, Kaien's tryin' ta prove that its not; that its possible to work alongside ya Hollow like its a second Zanpakutou spirit. It's an interestin' theory, and I trust him ta mop things up if it goes south, which is why I've been inclined ta give him that shot with you."

"So I'm a trial run, huh? Fan-freaking-tastic." Ichigo grunts.

The other shoe drops at last. He should've known it was all too good to be true. But no, he was some test bed for a crackpot theory.

Still, it did work. Shiro and he had come to an accord, with one or two minor stipulations. Presuming Shiro sticks to his end of their tenuous pact, Ichigo figures he got a good one as far as bargains go. Whether or not that'll continue being the case is a separate matter, but Ichigo trusts the Hollow won't hurt him anymore.

"Your cousin doesn't see it that way. He's a bull-headed, stubborn son of a bitch - runs in the family - and the way he figures, he's tryin' to spare ya a mountain load of pain by goin' that route."

"And if it works?" Ichigo asks,

Shinji just hums, "If that mad bastard can prove ya can work along side that unshackled Hollow of yours, then we - the other Visoreds - got ourselves some work to do. But if he fails; he's bringin' you back to us and we'll suppress that Hollow the ol' fashion way."

That unnerving smile turns Ichigo's way, "Did he ever get around ta telling ya what we had to do ta handle our Hollows?"

"No." Ichigo answers honestly. "But 'crushing into submission' does give me a vaguely unpleasant hint or two."

"Well, then... just hope and pray we don't have to resort ta our usual techniques. Ya might not survive 'em." Shinji tells him candidly.

"Okay, I have to know: Do you go out of your way to make yourself sound as sinister as possible, or is this just some sort of twisted hobby of yours?" Ichigo demands, giving Shinji a hard look.

The Ex-Captain simply shrugs, "Yer just too unsophisticated to get my sense of humour."

"Or you're just an asshole." Ichigo snips back.

"Ain't mutually exclusive. I'll see you around, kid." Shinji disappears with a burst of Shunpo and Ichigo slumps, absolutely drained.

Ichigo glances at the bag and grumbles, "That jackass could've at least taken his rubbish with him if he was done."

Heaving a sigh, Ichigo snatches it up and moves to do just that but frowns for a split second when he feels it weight a little more than empty wrappers should. Peering inside, he sees two steamed pork buns and a chilled juice box.

Ichigo considers tossing it out as a point of pride, but the growl in his stomach convinces him otherwise. "Man, that guy's a lousy actor." He mutters, tearing open one of buns and chowing down, followed shortly thereafter by the second and chased by the juice that he seemingly drank in one gulp.

He feels a little better now he's got something in his stomach. Maybe he could take a quick catnap before the lunch bell chimed.

Until a thick clawing reiatsu and a thunderous rumble jolts him awake just as he dozed off.

Ichigo jumps to his feet, fingers curled around the Combat pass in his pocket. There, in the distance, he just barely make out a black... crack in the sky and two bursts of light smashing down like meteorites.

"What in hell is that?"

Author's note:

Got nothing to say. Ichigo came to terms with his Hollow (Thanks Kaien!), and now trouble be brewing.

Edit: 11/12/2022 - just cleaned up the chapter to make it flow better.

Regards,
Aurora313