Entry for bleach_contest - week #20 -- delirious
week #20 - delirious
Title: Malicious Intent
Rating: R, for offensive language
Pairings/Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo and his Inner Hollow
Warnings: Usage of slang and lots of really derogatory words
Spoilers: Only if you don’t know Ichigo has an inner hollow
Word Count: 1242
Description: Set 20 years in the future, Ichigo’s inner hollow has different plans.
Beta(s):
akiaharaand
rozella_rising
*koban is a Japanese gold coin
The first time he felt it, he simply stumbled a little. So he passed it off as a misstep.
The second time it occurred, he felt a moment of dizziness and decided the lack of sleep was beginning to affect him more than he had first thought.
The third time, he felt woozy and was convinced he was getting sick.
All those opportunities to attack this problem before it got out of hand, and now it was too late. The sensation came over him a final time. It was stronger than ever and he actually felt ready to pass out; until it came with a cackle.
That snapped him to attention faster than anything else in life or death ever could. He felt a cold trickle of sweat run between his shoulder blades and an icy wind roll up his spine. He hadn’t heard that sound since he had died.
When it didn’t come again he tried to convince himself it was a flashback. It was a waking dream. It was anything but real. ANYTHING.
“Tch! King, ya always were pretty heavy in the denial department.”
Again the screeching laugh came and it made his blood freeze. He felt fifteen again, not the twenty years of life and fifteen years of death he really was.
He thought thirty-five years would have given him a better handle on the fear, but it was as bright and shiny as a new koban*. There was nowhere to run from this horror, or the danger behind it. Once again it lived inside him and he knew this time it was for keeps.
“Pfft, so dramatic with yer thoughts, King. I figured since yer so OLD now, ya’d be more mature. Tch! What a joke to see ya just as afraid as ever. Yer such a pussy, Kurosaki. And here I thought ya’d miss me an’ all. S’wrong? Yoruichi got yer tongue King? “
The horrific amusement followed him back to his residence, where he wanted to curl up and pretend it was all a dream. What the fuck was he going to do now? He hadn’t had to deal with this bastard hollow inside of him since the day he died for real.
It had been fifteen years. Everyone including Kisuke was convinced dying and having konsou performed on his soul had rid him of the crazed hollow. Why was this happening to him? Where had the fucker gone for fifteen damn years? Why the hell was he back now? That feeling ran up and down his spine again and made him sway.
“Yer still such a whiny little fucker; ya know that, King! Why me? Why, why, why, WHY?! Shit, I figured after all this time ya’d missed me, an’ take me back inta yer lovin’ arms.”
The gleeful sarcasm dripped from every word. Kami-sama, what the hell was he to do? Could he even tell anyone? He still had friends, but in the end, he’d become so unstable. The hollow had colored everything he did before true death. He wasn’t even sure his friends would understand enough, not to call for his execution again.
What of his lover? Was there even a way to explain this without alienating the one person he loved most in this after life? He wished so badly that he was just hallucinating, but when the insane pleasure sounded once again in his ear, he knew he needed to buckle down. He better do it damn fast too, because he could feel the sensation moving forward as if it were going to slam into him like a freight train when it finally arrived.
“Yer a stupid bitch. Ya really think there’s anything ya can do to stop me this time? This horse has jus’ bin restin’ up in the shadows for fifteen years now; savin’ up every bit a power. Yer just comin’ off’n the worst year a yer death. Ya ain’t got the control ta stop me. Ya never learn do ya, King. If ya’d called fer help when ya first felt me stirrin’, I wouldn’t ta stood a chance. Tch. Now. Now bitch, yer fucked ten ways from Sunday and ya can’t do nuthin’ about it.”
The shrieking laughter felt so close that he knew this was it. This was his last chance to keep his body and soul intact. He couldn’t do this by himself and if the hollow took control of his body this time, there was no hope of ever getting it back.
The worst wasn’t dying; it was being trapped inside, watching the hollow fake his way through Ichigo’s life in order to kill everyone he ever cared for. He’d rather die. He never should have let this go, even for a moment. He should have learned from the first time. It was the irrational fear of the hollow inside. It gave him such poor judgment, and after fifteen years he was ill equipped to deal with it again all at once.
He did the only thing he could that would insure the hollow would fail at deceiving everyone into believing Ichigo still inhabited this body. He gathered every bit of reiatsu, every ounce of strength and every fragment of resolve he had ever possessed and concentrated on doubling it. Then he sent it screaming out across Soul Society with as much intent as he could manage. He knew his lover would understand clearly, he just hoped that enough of his friends and colleagues would recognize the scent in the reiatsu as well.
“Fuck! Ya stupid cunt! If’n they don’t kill ya now, I sure as fuck will. Ya stupid shit, ya make me sick. Why’n fuck ya give a damn about these assholes, anyway? Answer me bitch! Cause I’m almost there, an pretty soon there ain’t gonna be enough of ya left to answer.”
He ignored the hollow and kept a death grip on the table and away from Zangetsu on his back. He could do this. He knew he could. All he had to do was make sure that his grip never left this table, at least not until help arrived.
He could do that. He had enough strength left to do that at least. He’d really screwed up this time, but he had to make sure no one paid for this one except himself.
Kami-sama, he was going to hate leaving everyone behind. He loved so many of the people here. He loved seeing his family on special occasions. As his losses mounted in his mind, he realized he hadn’t cried since the end of the war.
A tear slipped down his cheek just as the door burst open. Five captain class warriors were standing where it had been hinged. In front was the person he loved most in the world.
The flash of love followed closely by shame made the rushing, and pulling sensation slam into him that much harder. Just as his vision began to go dark, his hands reached for Zangetsu. He heard the delighted derision.
“Ya lost fucker and I ain’t ever giving it back. This horse has trampled its master and yer fucking dead.”
Dread encased his soul when his hand involuntarily closed over Zangetsu. Just as his senses began shutting down and he was enfolded in darkness, elation raced through him one final time. He saw a snake, a snowflake, a cherry blossom, a tiny black fairy and a blue arrow all aimed at him.