Shards of Spirit Ch4 - Window to Hell
OMG, this chapter was giving me so much grief, but I finally got it done. Enjoy~
Shards of Spirit
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo X Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, now go read.
Spoilers: Up to current arc.
Summary:Do we ever get a second chance? An option to redo what we did wrong? And if we did, would we know what to do when it was given to us? When a mistake threatens to cost Ichigo the thing he never realized was most important, how far will he go to get it back?
Gravely injured, hovering at the brink of death, Rukia remains trapped within her mind, a prisoner to her own inner demons, while Ichigo, determined to restore her, faces not only her own darkness but the fears and illusions in his own heart by journeying into her mind itself to find her and bring the pieces of her soul back together.
Chapter 4 - Window to Hell
As he'd walked, following the small, even footsteps of Shirayuki, Ichigo couldn't help but keep his guard up, keep one hand resting lightly on Zangetsu's hilt as they traveled. Or... the sword that looked like Zangetsu, seeing as it wasn't Zangetsu. It wasn't as much that he expected the girl in front of him to turn and attack -- though if she was part of Rukia then it might not have been that far beyond the imagination -- but simply that he didn't trust this place. Something was... different, strange to him, beyond the fact that he was in Rukia's head. Yes, that in itself was a bit strange when you really thought much about it but he'd certainly dealt with weirder stuff before. No, it was something else. Something.... darker, more sinister. It was as though, concealed from his eyes, someone was watching. Veiled in the persistent twilight of the sky hanging overhead, yet gazing down upon the two with it's thick and malevolent stare as it waited, stalking them the way a cat would stalk a mouse.
THAT was it, he realized with a start. It wasn't even the feeling of eyes ghosting across the back of his neck and causing the little hairs on his skin to rise, it was that he felt trapped. As though he was walking headlong into the jaws of a predator that was simply biding it's time and waiting. Playing with them, watching as they made their way unwittingly into it's claws, only to notice when it was already too late.
Shuddering slightly, Ichigo ground his teeth together, instead focusing on the task at hand. Well, that and the fact that he didn't understand why the hell Shirayuki had to walk so damned slow all the time. If he hadn't been sure -- and he was relatively sure, given what had happened earlier -- that he'd come out injured if he tried, it was pretty tempting to just scoop her up under one arm the way he'd have done were it Rukia. Although... that tended to net him injuries as well, seeing as Rukia never appreciated it either. Which was stupid, seeing as it was her damn fault for not walking fast enough.
So lost in thought was he that he nearly tripped right over his guide, stumbling back with a lurid curse and leveling a scowl down at the petite white-haired girl.
"The hell did you stop for!?"
She gave him her answer in the form of one red-tipped finger as she raised her hand to point out ahead of them. Ichigo's eyes followed the simple gesture as his gaze traveled in a sweeping arc towards the landscape in front of him, amber-brown irises widening as he simply stopped short and stared.
"Wh...what the...?"
The difference between the landscape ahead of them and the snow-drenched village they had just come from was startling -- and that was being gentle about it -- in it's stark contrast. It was still the village, still the same little quiet buildings pockmarking the thick crusted snow, the same winding narrow path that threaded it's way through into the distance beyond. But that was where the similarities ended. Here, the snow was crusted in places with dark rusty stains -- he was relatively sure they were blood, but he didn't want to find out for sure -- that stretched in splattered arcs up on the walls. The crimson flowers that had draped the scene in splashes of living colour lay shredded, petals rent asunder, laying in wilted heaps as though some angry hand had ripped them from their broken, trailing vines. The strawberries were in similar disarray, smashed fruits peppering the ground in fetid, rotting specks of vermilion. Cracks stretched through the snow, deep gaping fissures that seemed to reach down beyond the snow and into the world itself, sprays of crystallized steam reaching up in grisly mockery of the snowflakes that still fell softly. Even the sky was tainted, the twilight moon showing bloodied fingers of light through thick clouds.
It took a moment for Shirayuki's calm and even voice to break through the shock and abject nausea he felt at seeing Rukia's inner world like this. It was... just wrong. And not even the appearance -- although he couldn't help but be pretty certain that was wrong too -- but just a sense, a feeling. An overwhelming and oppressive thickness that clung to everything and turned his stomach. It was almost like feeling Kenpachi's reiatsu for the first time, bearing down on you and pressing all the life out of you until simply taking a breath is so much agony you lose the will to. Rukia's world... shouldn't ever feel that way.
Swallowing past the bile that rose in his throat, Ichigo turned his attention back to where the white girl was still talking. Something about the changes in this part of the world.
".... you weren't listening, Kurosaki-sama."
Normally, the slight biting edge to her voice -- Rukia's voice, almost -- would have made him gulp just a little, worry just a little that a beating was imminent. But not this time. This time he simply nodded, his gaze returning to her small face. Whatever she was saying.... it was important. He needed to listen. At his renewed attention, Shirayuki nodded slightly and cleared her throat, returning to her explanation.
"This... is the boundary. It marks the spread of the canker into Mistress' mind. This is a place of darkness. A dangerous realm where my powers diminish. Many things have contributed to the decay here, besides the attack of this thing. Mistress' own exhaustion, the immense stress that she places upon herself by the continued feelings of guilt and remorse for her past, the constant struggle to overcome her own fears. And now... when things are darkest, Mistress has lost the will to continue."
Ichigo felt his jaw clench, teeth grinding against each other at those words. Lack of will... that wasn't Rukia. It wasn't his Rukia -- though where the "his" came from he had no idea -- and it wasn't something he was willing to just accept. Rukia didn't just give up. She was stronger than that, so much so that he felt -- though he'd never in a million years admit it -- almost useless sometimes. Because rather he liked it or not, she didn't need him to protect her as much as he wanted to think she did.
Hi opened his mouth to say something, to argue with this... this stupid little girl that Rukia wasn't like that, Rukia wouldn't just give up, when a familiar peal of laughter broke through the air. Like a chime, ringing out against the snow and echoing with cold malice, the sound sent chills down his spine as he spun around to locate it's sound. It couldn't be. Not here, not in her mind. But there was barely time to be relieved at the realization as his attention was drawn upwards, to where the red-stained moon hung low in the sky, illuminating a slight figure perched on the roof of a crumbling cottage. Blood-red light bathed white shihakushou in eerie crimson hues, glinted off of alabaster skin as white lips curled back from equally white teeth in derisive laughter as blue tongue curled out to lick slowly along the glinting black edge of the blade. One small white hand reached up to comb through jet black tresses as black and gold eyes stared down at him.
Rukia. But no Rukia that he'd ever seen. It was as though his hollow, that lurking, waiting thing in his soul that whispered to him at every turn, threatening to consume him if he ever let his guard down, was staring back at him. But it wasn't him. It was her. Drawing Zangetsu with a snarled curse, he backed up a step, staring in horrified fascination as she carefully played the black-ribboned blade in her hand across her wrist, drawing a thin line of crimson before lapping out her tongue to slide blue flesh along white skin and lick at the red droplets that oozed from the wound, a high-pitched giggle emanating from her throat that chilled him to the bone. Growling, he turned towards Shirayuki, standing there silently and making no move to attack.
"THE FUCK IS THAT?! Rukia doesn't have a goddamned hollow!"
The figure on the rooftop laughed again, that same high-pitched cackle, before raising an eyebrow at him mockingly as she lowered the black blade. "Oh, are you so sure~ of that?~ After all, this is your precious Ru~ki~a~'s mind now, isn't it? And if I'm here... then I guess that would mean that she do~oes~ have one~"
It wasn't true, his mind screamed at him, couldn't be true. It was just something here, some trick her mind was playing on him, some game that they were playing. And it wasn't a funny one. Brandishing Zangetsu at the ready, mentally cursing the fact that he couldn't -- as far as he knew -- go to bankai, he readied another barrage of questions before Shirayuki cut him off abruptly.
"Of course Mistress doesn't have one of those disgusting things inside of her. That is merely a portion of her. Her own "inner darkness", you may call it. Seen through your eyes, it simply takes a form that is familiar to you. In this case, a similar form of the darkness within you. The darkness you would wish to deny the existence of, Kurosaki-sama."
He could have strangled her. Probably would have done so, were it not for his sense of self-preservation -- and the fact that without her he couldn't DO any of this -- but either way his attention was swiftly drawn as the hollow-facsimile of Rukia lept from her perch on the roof with a crazed laugh of glee, diving at him, sword at the ready as the black ribbon trailed rings in the bloodied sky behind her. He barely had enough time to bring Zangetsu to bear before they came together in a crash and a screech of metal, his feet skidding back in the snow as she pushed foreward, mocking laugh grating on his nerves as she licked her lips suggestively. He pushed back, his senses screaming at him to fight back, to destroy this... this thing masquerading as Rukia.
But... if she's a part of Rukia... and you hurt her... then won't you hurt Rukia too?"
With a wicked chuckle, she drove forward with another slash that he blocked, pushing him back further and further as he simply tried to block, tried to defend and think of something. But what?
"You don't really think you can win, do you?~ Especially.... not with this"
With a sudden push, he heard a cracking sound. Looking down, his eyes widened to see the split travel along the length of Zangetsu, the crack widening as he backpedaled, the broken halfs of the weapon glistening into the ice they had been as Ichigo's back hit the snow, brown eyes wide. The hollow loomed over him for a moment, the obsidion point of her blade resting at his throat, pressing just enough that he could feel the prick of skin breaking, feel the warm tingle as blood trickled down the side of his neck before she stepped back, laughing again.
"I didn't think so~ Go home, little boy. Go home before you wind up de~ad~"
With a final laugh, she turned and walked back through the ruins, her form melting away into the snow as Ichigo pushed himself to his feet, one hand clenching around the broken ice that had once been his defender as he turned angry eyes onto Shirayuki. She expected him to fight... with what?
"The hell am I supposed to do now?! Give me a damned weapon that's worth something! I can't-"
His voice cut off as the shards swirled up and coalesced back into the gleaming black metal of Zangetsu, held easily at his throat by Shirayuki's small hand, her angry blood-hued eyes staring hardly at him along the length of the blade.
"THIS is not what lacks worth, Kurosaki-sama. What lacks worth is your resolve. You think to protect my mistress, to save her and rescue her and keep her safe from all dangers. You think that by fighting here, you cause risk to her. I tell you now, if that is your attitude, than Mistress is doomed. You cannot fight with that weakness in your heart. Wounds given to Mistress here will be far less severe than the ultimate wound of oblivion. Now..."
Spinning the blade -- he had no idea HOW, it was bigger than she was -- she slammed the tip into the crusted snow and stepped back, icy fire ringing in her tone.
"Do you fight, or do you run, Kurosaki-sama?"
He scowled at her for a moment before pushing himself to his feet and yanking the blade out of the ground. She didn't have to act all damned stupid now. He wasn't running.
Shards of Spirit
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo X Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, now go read.
Spoilers: Up to current arc.
Summary:Do we ever get a second chance? An option to redo what we did wrong? And if we did, would we know what to do when it was given to us? When a mistake threatens to cost Ichigo the thing he never realized was most important, how far will he go to get it back?
Gravely injured, hovering at the brink of death, Rukia remains trapped within her mind, a prisoner to her own inner demons, while Ichigo, determined to restore her, faces not only her own darkness but the fears and illusions in his own heart by journeying into her mind itself to find her and bring the pieces of her soul back together.
Chapter 4 - Window to Hell
As he'd walked, following the small, even footsteps of Shirayuki, Ichigo couldn't help but keep his guard up, keep one hand resting lightly on Zangetsu's hilt as they traveled. Or... the sword that looked like Zangetsu, seeing as it wasn't Zangetsu. It wasn't as much that he expected the girl in front of him to turn and attack -- though if she was part of Rukia then it might not have been that far beyond the imagination -- but simply that he didn't trust this place. Something was... different, strange to him, beyond the fact that he was in Rukia's head. Yes, that in itself was a bit strange when you really thought much about it but he'd certainly dealt with weirder stuff before. No, it was something else. Something.... darker, more sinister. It was as though, concealed from his eyes, someone was watching. Veiled in the persistent twilight of the sky hanging overhead, yet gazing down upon the two with it's thick and malevolent stare as it waited, stalking them the way a cat would stalk a mouse.
THAT was it, he realized with a start. It wasn't even the feeling of eyes ghosting across the back of his neck and causing the little hairs on his skin to rise, it was that he felt trapped. As though he was walking headlong into the jaws of a predator that was simply biding it's time and waiting. Playing with them, watching as they made their way unwittingly into it's claws, only to notice when it was already too late.
Shuddering slightly, Ichigo ground his teeth together, instead focusing on the task at hand. Well, that and the fact that he didn't understand why the hell Shirayuki had to walk so damned slow all the time. If he hadn't been sure -- and he was relatively sure, given what had happened earlier -- that he'd come out injured if he tried, it was pretty tempting to just scoop her up under one arm the way he'd have done were it Rukia. Although... that tended to net him injuries as well, seeing as Rukia never appreciated it either. Which was stupid, seeing as it was her damn fault for not walking fast enough.
So lost in thought was he that he nearly tripped right over his guide, stumbling back with a lurid curse and leveling a scowl down at the petite white-haired girl.
"The hell did you stop for!?"
She gave him her answer in the form of one red-tipped finger as she raised her hand to point out ahead of them. Ichigo's eyes followed the simple gesture as his gaze traveled in a sweeping arc towards the landscape in front of him, amber-brown irises widening as he simply stopped short and stared.
"Wh...what the...?"
The difference between the landscape ahead of them and the snow-drenched village they had just come from was startling -- and that was being gentle about it -- in it's stark contrast. It was still the village, still the same little quiet buildings pockmarking the thick crusted snow, the same winding narrow path that threaded it's way through into the distance beyond. But that was where the similarities ended. Here, the snow was crusted in places with dark rusty stains -- he was relatively sure they were blood, but he didn't want to find out for sure -- that stretched in splattered arcs up on the walls. The crimson flowers that had draped the scene in splashes of living colour lay shredded, petals rent asunder, laying in wilted heaps as though some angry hand had ripped them from their broken, trailing vines. The strawberries were in similar disarray, smashed fruits peppering the ground in fetid, rotting specks of vermilion. Cracks stretched through the snow, deep gaping fissures that seemed to reach down beyond the snow and into the world itself, sprays of crystallized steam reaching up in grisly mockery of the snowflakes that still fell softly. Even the sky was tainted, the twilight moon showing bloodied fingers of light through thick clouds.
It took a moment for Shirayuki's calm and even voice to break through the shock and abject nausea he felt at seeing Rukia's inner world like this. It was... just wrong. And not even the appearance -- although he couldn't help but be pretty certain that was wrong too -- but just a sense, a feeling. An overwhelming and oppressive thickness that clung to everything and turned his stomach. It was almost like feeling Kenpachi's reiatsu for the first time, bearing down on you and pressing all the life out of you until simply taking a breath is so much agony you lose the will to. Rukia's world... shouldn't ever feel that way.
Swallowing past the bile that rose in his throat, Ichigo turned his attention back to where the white girl was still talking. Something about the changes in this part of the world.
".... you weren't listening, Kurosaki-sama."
Normally, the slight biting edge to her voice -- Rukia's voice, almost -- would have made him gulp just a little, worry just a little that a beating was imminent. But not this time. This time he simply nodded, his gaze returning to her small face. Whatever she was saying.... it was important. He needed to listen. At his renewed attention, Shirayuki nodded slightly and cleared her throat, returning to her explanation.
"This... is the boundary. It marks the spread of the canker into Mistress' mind. This is a place of darkness. A dangerous realm where my powers diminish. Many things have contributed to the decay here, besides the attack of this thing. Mistress' own exhaustion, the immense stress that she places upon herself by the continued feelings of guilt and remorse for her past, the constant struggle to overcome her own fears. And now... when things are darkest, Mistress has lost the will to continue."
Ichigo felt his jaw clench, teeth grinding against each other at those words. Lack of will... that wasn't Rukia. It wasn't his Rukia -- though where the "his" came from he had no idea -- and it wasn't something he was willing to just accept. Rukia didn't just give up. She was stronger than that, so much so that he felt -- though he'd never in a million years admit it -- almost useless sometimes. Because rather he liked it or not, she didn't need him to protect her as much as he wanted to think she did.
Hi opened his mouth to say something, to argue with this... this stupid little girl that Rukia wasn't like that, Rukia wouldn't just give up, when a familiar peal of laughter broke through the air. Like a chime, ringing out against the snow and echoing with cold malice, the sound sent chills down his spine as he spun around to locate it's sound. It couldn't be. Not here, not in her mind. But there was barely time to be relieved at the realization as his attention was drawn upwards, to where the red-stained moon hung low in the sky, illuminating a slight figure perched on the roof of a crumbling cottage. Blood-red light bathed white shihakushou in eerie crimson hues, glinted off of alabaster skin as white lips curled back from equally white teeth in derisive laughter as blue tongue curled out to lick slowly along the glinting black edge of the blade. One small white hand reached up to comb through jet black tresses as black and gold eyes stared down at him.
Rukia. But no Rukia that he'd ever seen. It was as though his hollow, that lurking, waiting thing in his soul that whispered to him at every turn, threatening to consume him if he ever let his guard down, was staring back at him. But it wasn't him. It was her. Drawing Zangetsu with a snarled curse, he backed up a step, staring in horrified fascination as she carefully played the black-ribboned blade in her hand across her wrist, drawing a thin line of crimson before lapping out her tongue to slide blue flesh along white skin and lick at the red droplets that oozed from the wound, a high-pitched giggle emanating from her throat that chilled him to the bone. Growling, he turned towards Shirayuki, standing there silently and making no move to attack.
"THE FUCK IS THAT?! Rukia doesn't have a goddamned hollow!"
The figure on the rooftop laughed again, that same high-pitched cackle, before raising an eyebrow at him mockingly as she lowered the black blade. "Oh, are you so sure~ of that?~ After all, this is your precious Ru~ki~a~'s mind now, isn't it? And if I'm here... then I guess that would mean that she do~oes~ have one~"
It wasn't true, his mind screamed at him, couldn't be true. It was just something here, some trick her mind was playing on him, some game that they were playing. And it wasn't a funny one. Brandishing Zangetsu at the ready, mentally cursing the fact that he couldn't -- as far as he knew -- go to bankai, he readied another barrage of questions before Shirayuki cut him off abruptly.
"Of course Mistress doesn't have one of those disgusting things inside of her. That is merely a portion of her. Her own "inner darkness", you may call it. Seen through your eyes, it simply takes a form that is familiar to you. In this case, a similar form of the darkness within you. The darkness you would wish to deny the existence of, Kurosaki-sama."
He could have strangled her. Probably would have done so, were it not for his sense of self-preservation -- and the fact that without her he couldn't DO any of this -- but either way his attention was swiftly drawn as the hollow-facsimile of Rukia lept from her perch on the roof with a crazed laugh of glee, diving at him, sword at the ready as the black ribbon trailed rings in the bloodied sky behind her. He barely had enough time to bring Zangetsu to bear before they came together in a crash and a screech of metal, his feet skidding back in the snow as she pushed foreward, mocking laugh grating on his nerves as she licked her lips suggestively. He pushed back, his senses screaming at him to fight back, to destroy this... this thing masquerading as Rukia.
But... if she's a part of Rukia... and you hurt her... then won't you hurt Rukia too?"
With a wicked chuckle, she drove forward with another slash that he blocked, pushing him back further and further as he simply tried to block, tried to defend and think of something. But what?
"You don't really think you can win, do you?~ Especially.... not with this"
With a sudden push, he heard a cracking sound. Looking down, his eyes widened to see the split travel along the length of Zangetsu, the crack widening as he backpedaled, the broken halfs of the weapon glistening into the ice they had been as Ichigo's back hit the snow, brown eyes wide. The hollow loomed over him for a moment, the obsidion point of her blade resting at his throat, pressing just enough that he could feel the prick of skin breaking, feel the warm tingle as blood trickled down the side of his neck before she stepped back, laughing again.
"I didn't think so~ Go home, little boy. Go home before you wind up de~ad~"
With a final laugh, she turned and walked back through the ruins, her form melting away into the snow as Ichigo pushed himself to his feet, one hand clenching around the broken ice that had once been his defender as he turned angry eyes onto Shirayuki. She expected him to fight... with what?
"The hell am I supposed to do now?! Give me a damned weapon that's worth something! I can't-"
His voice cut off as the shards swirled up and coalesced back into the gleaming black metal of Zangetsu, held easily at his throat by Shirayuki's small hand, her angry blood-hued eyes staring hardly at him along the length of the blade.
"THIS is not what lacks worth, Kurosaki-sama. What lacks worth is your resolve. You think to protect my mistress, to save her and rescue her and keep her safe from all dangers. You think that by fighting here, you cause risk to her. I tell you now, if that is your attitude, than Mistress is doomed. You cannot fight with that weakness in your heart. Wounds given to Mistress here will be far less severe than the ultimate wound of oblivion. Now..."
Spinning the blade -- he had no idea HOW, it was bigger than she was -- she slammed the tip into the crusted snow and stepped back, icy fire ringing in her tone.
"Do you fight, or do you run, Kurosaki-sama?"
He scowled at her for a moment before pushing himself to his feet and yanking the blade out of the ground. She didn't have to act all damned stupid now. He wasn't running.