City of Emptiness Chapter 7
Aug. 7th, 2016 11:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Bleach AU
Chapter Summary: One minute they're walking and nothing is happening. The next...
Word Count: 1,009
Rating: K
Bleach AU
Chapter Summary: One minute they're walking and nothing is happening. The next...
Word Count: 1,009
Rating: K
He wakes with King hovering, worried. “What happened?” he asks flatly, and it hurts to think, so Shiro doesn’t, not for the moment.
Then he shivers, and remembers part of what happens, and panics. He reaches inside, desperately, for the Hollow, and can’t stop the tremors when he finds that only a little of the mask will appear, around his chin.
“I tried to heal you as best I could. Wrapped up your shoulder, too. But something attacked you, and I need to know what it was.”
King really does, but that accusation that he’s useless, that he’ll be alone…the pain that he of all people couldn’t deal with…the horror of being hurt by someone so kind, so gentle…
He wakes up a little when he feels something settle around his shoulders. King’s jacket, over his own. The shaking cuts down a little. He bares his teeth, chattering though they are, and tries to say something about how he’s not a mewling weakling, he doesn’t need to be coddled like this, but the only thing that makes it out of of his mouth is a pathetic whimper.
It’s not her, as a Hollow. He’d sense that. Though maybe the kind Princess would have a Hollow so cruel, but still, at least some of the reiatsu would be the same, since they’re formed from the same person.
It’s worry. It actually is worry. Maybe Ichi will be angry, later, that he cared, but for now…
It’s easier to glare down at his hands. He can feel the injury still bleeding, but it’s harder to look at your own shoulder. The fingernails are broken and bloodied, black nail polish cracking, like he’d tried clawing his way out of something.
It’s honestly difficult to tell if it’s harder or easier to communicate with King like this.
“It took the form of Princess, and for that alone I could rip it apart and taste the bloody pieces,” he manages after a while, flinching a little on the thought that that might’ve been an incorrect answer. The mask in his heart doesn’t fracture any further. He doesn’t lose any more of himself.
Ichigo blinks like the idiot he can be before the fog of confusion clears. “Orihime. It looked like her?”
“It wasn’t her,” Shiro states flatly. “Trust me on this, King. I’m better at sensing spiritual stuff than you are. She felt…empty. Not quite real. Like the rest of these shadows, but stronger.” He pauses, staring at his still-shaking hands. “Maybe that was because she was focused. They seem empty because they have no purpose. They’re just there for the scenery. Extras in a movie. They have no motivation, no personality of their own.”
Ichigo frowns, an awkward, sympathetic hand draped over Shiro’s undamaged shoulder. “So, what did she do?”
He doesn’t want to go into detail. He’s already showing too much weakness in front of King, and he doesn’t want to be discarded as useless. Something that the strawberry protector had grown out of. But he does feel so weak… “Crushed my mask. I’m having trouble calling it, now.”
Ichigo bares his own teeth, and a second later there’s an intact mask forming over his face. Shiro quickly has to turn away. They don’t need him to be feeling this rage, right now, this hunger.
He wants to tear something apart, but if he did that to King or anyone he wouldn’t mind having around, he’d regret it, in the end.
“Hey.” Ichigo tugs on his shoulder slightly, enough that he turns back. The mask is gone. “If you’re here, then why can I use your powers? Is that what happened when she broke it?”
That’s a hard one to explain. In the end, he’s too exhausted to go with anything but the truth. “I’m from—I dunno, a different time, or dimension, or somethin’. Hat Man would probably have something to say about that, be able to explain it or whatever, but I don’t wanna go near him because he’d probably experiment on me.”
Ichigo thinks about that and nods, letting out a deep breath. “I was wondering. You’d been really quiet.”
“So has Zanjii,” Shiro adds, trying to keep the worry out of his tone, even though King probably hears it anyway. Because they’re so alike, after all. “I can use the powers, but he’s not given any cryptic advice or attitude or anything.”
“Maybe they can’t coexist, or something,” Ichigo muses, before blushing and glaring at the raised eyebrow. “I read manga!”
That earns a quirk of a smile, but since Shiro has yet to read anything, he can’t really tease about that. It’s almost a pity to interrupt the mood. “She also kinda stabbed me. I didn’t see with what. And she wanted to know why we were here, which, let’s face it, is a pretty good indication it wasn’t actually her.”
“Well, I have no idea how I got here, but I’m definitely not leaving until we find my friends,” Ichigo answers, before seeing the point. “Ah.” He pauses, then explains, “You just suddenly stopped walking, and then you were flailing around like you were in a fight. I tried to talk to you, but you didn’t respond and then you started bleeding.” He shrugs. “So then I just had to get your attention.”
The flare. Shiro remembers. Something trite about the light of hope, but it really had meant something to him, in there. “You probably saved my life. So thanks.” He stretches, wincing at the pain. But then he realizes, there’s something else in there, besides his mask. That same light.
Maybe he can learn from King after all.
They’re interrupted as a woman runs up to them, looking flustered. She’s one of the shadow people, the extras, but she somehow looks more real than the others, and she’s definitely acting it too. “Your twin’s hurt! Please, is there anything I can do to help?”
Ichigo glances at Shiro, uncertainty in his eyes, and gets a subtle nod in return. I’ll follow your lead, King.
Then he shivers, and remembers part of what happens, and panics. He reaches inside, desperately, for the Hollow, and can’t stop the tremors when he finds that only a little of the mask will appear, around his chin.
“I tried to heal you as best I could. Wrapped up your shoulder, too. But something attacked you, and I need to know what it was.”
King really does, but that accusation that he’s useless, that he’ll be alone…the pain that he of all people couldn’t deal with…the horror of being hurt by someone so kind, so gentle…
He wakes up a little when he feels something settle around his shoulders. King’s jacket, over his own. The shaking cuts down a little. He bares his teeth, chattering though they are, and tries to say something about how he’s not a mewling weakling, he doesn’t need to be coddled like this, but the only thing that makes it out of of his mouth is a pathetic whimper.
It’s not her, as a Hollow. He’d sense that. Though maybe the kind Princess would have a Hollow so cruel, but still, at least some of the reiatsu would be the same, since they’re formed from the same person.
It’s worry. It actually is worry. Maybe Ichi will be angry, later, that he cared, but for now…
It’s easier to glare down at his hands. He can feel the injury still bleeding, but it’s harder to look at your own shoulder. The fingernails are broken and bloodied, black nail polish cracking, like he’d tried clawing his way out of something.
It’s honestly difficult to tell if it’s harder or easier to communicate with King like this.
“It took the form of Princess, and for that alone I could rip it apart and taste the bloody pieces,” he manages after a while, flinching a little on the thought that that might’ve been an incorrect answer. The mask in his heart doesn’t fracture any further. He doesn’t lose any more of himself.
Ichigo blinks like the idiot he can be before the fog of confusion clears. “Orihime. It looked like her?”
“It wasn’t her,” Shiro states flatly. “Trust me on this, King. I’m better at sensing spiritual stuff than you are. She felt…empty. Not quite real. Like the rest of these shadows, but stronger.” He pauses, staring at his still-shaking hands. “Maybe that was because she was focused. They seem empty because they have no purpose. They’re just there for the scenery. Extras in a movie. They have no motivation, no personality of their own.”
Ichigo frowns, an awkward, sympathetic hand draped over Shiro’s undamaged shoulder. “So, what did she do?”
He doesn’t want to go into detail. He’s already showing too much weakness in front of King, and he doesn’t want to be discarded as useless. Something that the strawberry protector had grown out of. But he does feel so weak… “Crushed my mask. I’m having trouble calling it, now.”
Ichigo bares his own teeth, and a second later there’s an intact mask forming over his face. Shiro quickly has to turn away. They don’t need him to be feeling this rage, right now, this hunger.
He wants to tear something apart, but if he did that to King or anyone he wouldn’t mind having around, he’d regret it, in the end.
“Hey.” Ichigo tugs on his shoulder slightly, enough that he turns back. The mask is gone. “If you’re here, then why can I use your powers? Is that what happened when she broke it?”
That’s a hard one to explain. In the end, he’s too exhausted to go with anything but the truth. “I’m from—I dunno, a different time, or dimension, or somethin’. Hat Man would probably have something to say about that, be able to explain it or whatever, but I don’t wanna go near him because he’d probably experiment on me.”
Ichigo thinks about that and nods, letting out a deep breath. “I was wondering. You’d been really quiet.”
“So has Zanjii,” Shiro adds, trying to keep the worry out of his tone, even though King probably hears it anyway. Because they’re so alike, after all. “I can use the powers, but he’s not given any cryptic advice or attitude or anything.”
“Maybe they can’t coexist, or something,” Ichigo muses, before blushing and glaring at the raised eyebrow. “I read manga!”
That earns a quirk of a smile, but since Shiro has yet to read anything, he can’t really tease about that. It’s almost a pity to interrupt the mood. “She also kinda stabbed me. I didn’t see with what. And she wanted to know why we were here, which, let’s face it, is a pretty good indication it wasn’t actually her.”
“Well, I have no idea how I got here, but I’m definitely not leaving until we find my friends,” Ichigo answers, before seeing the point. “Ah.” He pauses, then explains, “You just suddenly stopped walking, and then you were flailing around like you were in a fight. I tried to talk to you, but you didn’t respond and then you started bleeding.” He shrugs. “So then I just had to get your attention.”
The flare. Shiro remembers. Something trite about the light of hope, but it really had meant something to him, in there. “You probably saved my life. So thanks.” He stretches, wincing at the pain. But then he realizes, there’s something else in there, besides his mask. That same light.
Maybe he can learn from King after all.
They’re interrupted as a woman runs up to them, looking flustered. She’s one of the shadow people, the extras, but she somehow looks more real than the others, and she’s definitely acting it too. “Your twin’s hurt! Please, is there anything I can do to help?”
Ichigo glances at Shiro, uncertainty in his eyes, and gets a subtle nod in return. I’ll follow your lead, King.
