Yes, there is no Fate for us
Only those who are swallowed by
Ignorance and fear and miss a step
Fall into the rapid river called Fate
Ichigo's body stilled as realization struck him through the chest, his heart pounding heavily as the inner demon snickered in amusement as his right hand twitched, a Hollow coming at the shinigami recklessly.
"Might wanna start moving now," he chuckled, eyes dead-set on the enormously large demon, "otherwise...we'll lose an arm."
Yet then the Hollow mask on Ichigo's face began to crumble as the body turned toward the white masked Hollow fast approaching, Ichigo's arm snapping into a semi-circle, slicing the head off, the spinal cord wiggling around vigorously as the orange haired teen fell onto the ground, panting as he covered his mouth, the shattered pieces to the half-mask on the ground, yet the inner Hollow within him, his reflection in the pure alabaster was haunting, especially that sickening grin.
"You'll die...without me," he snickered, his azure tongue licking his lips attentively, "and I'll be your master."
Ichigo's brown orbs shook, coughing as blood dripped down from his lips, soft thuds thumping on the dirt ground. His left hand's fingernails digging crescents into his lightly tanned flesh, gasping out when his heart thumped, out of desperation.
Renji looked over at two Hollows, men no doubt, and swiftly dismayed his gaze from them, seeing that they were getting, well...intimate. His eyes glanced up to the deep colored mist above, seeing it shift angrily, swirling.
As though something was stirring, coming alive. Instead of meeting its death, greeting life hurriedly.
I'm worried... he thought as he fell to a crouch as two large Hollows prodded past, ignoring his presence, talking back and forth about something that the redhead turned a blind eye to. Wonder where that fool from Zaraki's squad is? It can't be too far, I'm sure.
"I heard that there's a freaky shinigami around here,"
Renji's head snapped up, eyes wide, thinking the sensed his presence.
"He's got halfa mask like us...totally fucking crazy."
Half of a Hollow mask? he thought, lifting his right hand and rubbing his chin. And it's a shinigami too. I know it's not me...not Rukia...
His eyes widened as he snapped into a standing position, turning and darting in the direction Ichigo was, his heart pounding franticly, fists clenched as adrenaline rushed through his system.
The raven haired shinigami ducked behind a pile of rumble, her eyes half-lidded as spiritual pressure clashed all around her, especially Ichigo's. His was so familiar, yet the pressure was much more intense, as though there was another orange haired seventeen year old in the nesting grounds.
Her breath hitched, feeling Renji's spiritual pressure surfing along Ichigo's own, overriding it, worry filling her chest. Thoughts tumbled about Rukia's mind about what could be happening to her comrades and closest friends.
Wrapping her arms around herself, the young Kuchiki tried to warm herself up, bone-chilling cold seeping into her bones, causing the raven haired shinigami to shiver.
I...I hope they're all right.
The orange haired teen slowly lifted himself onto his feet, using Zangetsu as a crutch. His eyes were hazed, like the aura around the place was a drug, and he was overdosing. All thanks to the Hollow within him, making him thirst for more of the other demon's blood scents.
Intoxicating, which shouldn't be a strange pleasure to him. It was sick, absolutely wrong.
The eldest Kurosaki sibling panted, his head dropped as sweat dripped from his brow, the orange lines furrowed as he shut his eyes, biting and gnawing on his lower lip.
Lapping up the liquid on his lower lip up, eyes dazed as he swayed while he took a few steps forward, his right hand shooting up to cover his mouth, coughing heavily as he shook his head with a disgusted feature on his face.
I feel...like I wanna vomit, he thought as his hands trembled, staring down on the ground, his other hand joining the one atop his closed mouth, ...so ill...
"Serves ya right,"
"Y-you..." he huffed, hands falling and dangling at his sides, falling backwards with a slight gasp. "Did this...didn't you?"
"No, we're in the nesting grounds, dolt. The atmosphere did it...simple."
Ichigo fell down onto the ground with a thud, throwing his head back with a cry of pain, the epidermis on his neck burning, white puss emerging from the depths of his skin, surfacing and slipping down his arm with sinful grace, his eyes slamming shut as he bit his lower lip.
"And if we stay here...we'll swap roles. You'll be the Horse..."
Ichigo could've sworn he felt air blow against the back of his ear, like the albino figure that owned the disoriented voice was behind him, fingers slowly lacing through his own, jerking a bit from the unknown touches.
W...what're you –
"And I'll be King," A wet, threatening, sensation rushed through the orange haired seventeen year old as the, what seemed like, tongue ran slowly and torturously up to the top of his ear, "doesn't that sound like fun?"
The slightly muscular form slowly shut his eyes, soft pants slipping past his lips. If he weren't as exhausted as he was now, he would've risen to his feet. And yet, also, he felt somewhat safe with the imaginary hands' fingers intertwined with his own.
A strange sense of security.
"I'll protect you while you sleep, King..." the albino whispered, sounding like a promise and threat in one sentence, "I'll keep on protecting you."
I don't trust you, he thought bitterly, I can't trust you.
Fingers ran through his hair, a cruel cackle echoing in his ears as he turned his head to the side, his brows twitching, yet groaning at the next sentence the Hollow whispered, actually hissed.
"You think that those shinigami are gonna accept you when they find out? I don't think so..." the water-like voice hissed. "So...I'm the only person you can trust."