Angry at the World

He was finally on his way back home. Karakura Town was bathed red in the sun’s fading glow, and a shadow almost two times the size of his own loomed in front of him. Ichigo had objected to the idea of anyone walking him home – as if he was a girl -- but when Chad had appeared silently outside of Urahara’s shop, he hadn’t protested. With the gentle giant at his back his fears weren’t so exposed to the outside world. He didn’t know how much Chad knew, or if he knew anything at all, but he wasn’t curious. Enough people knew what had occurred already. Let them hear he’d been beaten, and no more. His expression turned sullen. A defeat would have been enough of a blow to his ego, really. His feet slowed outside of his door.

“Thanks for taggin’ along,” he said quietly. “But I’m just fine.”

“Ichigo… Whatever happened is making you think. Don’t switch back to kneejerk reactions until you have to,” Ichigo turned around and shot him a weak grin.

“Thanks for the wisdom, I’ll keep it in mind,” he replied. The corners of Chad’s lips tugged, but didn’t quite form a smile. He nodded a solemn goodbye and walked away. Ichigo watched him for a little while before turning the knob and entering his house.

“I-CHIGOOOOOOO!” He wasn’t really in the mood to entertain Isshin’s weirdness tonight. He sidestepped the crazy bastard’s flying kick and let him slam into the door instead. The resulting crash was...satisfying. He grinned to himself.

“Hey Karin, Yuzu,” he paused to sniff the air. “Smells good. Almost ready?”

“You haven’t been home for DAYS and all you can say is ‘Hey, what’s up you two, dinner done yet?’” Karin practically growled.

“Ichi-nii!” In contrast, Yuzu was practically beaming at him. “It’ll be done soon!”

“Sorry Karin. Had some stuff to take care of,” He walked by her and absentmindedly ruffled her hair, something he remembered too late she hated. Luckily, she decided to sulk and mutter under her breath instead of explode.

“ICHIGO! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” Isshin leapt to his feet and pointed at his son. He looked back at him, deadpan.

“Shut up and eat dinner will you?” He slouched down into a chair. “I’m tired. Been sparring,” which wasn’t a boldfaced lie. It just managed to gloss over the colossally shitty few days he’d been having, but his family, and especially Isshin, didn’t need to know.

“…Hmm…” Isshin inspected him, eyes narrowed and one eyebrow cocked. He kept the stupid expression on his face while he sat down, and he kept inspecting Ichigo. It was getting annoying. If the old man didn’t find something else to look at soon, he’d forcibly, and gladly, change the direction of his gaze. Just as his temper began to simmer, the stupid old man turned his shine on to Yuzu, praising her efforts and the beautiful food she’d brought over. Ah, a slice of normalcy.

He didn’t say much over dinner, just replying to Yuzu’s happy inquisitions and ignoring his father’s bursts of enthusiasm. He was tired, and as soon as he could escape he leapt up the stairs and collapsed on his bed. It was better than he would admit to anyone to be home. The muted quiet and darkness within his room, the exact way his mattress squeaked, his old comforter that stayed cool until his body warmed it and always left his feet freezing, the shitty flat pillow and even the scent--sweat, cologne, and a vague hint of chocolate-- it embraced him and he felt turmoil leech out of his body and down through his bed, away to bother some other poor bastard.

Maybe that crazy eyed fucker was right. How tense was he, always? His fingers strayed to his brow. Kon always complained that his face hurt when he pretended to be Ichigo. Not that he cared if the nuisance was uncomfortable, but it was true his brows snapped together and stayed there. He hadn’t always…He’d seen pictures of himself with his mother, and even a little while after, happy and smiling. He didn’t smile much anymore, it was usually a grin. That went along better with being a teenager, and he played the surly part like a champ, but he must’ve been happy enough to give a genuine smile recently. His mouth twisted around as he thought, chewing on his cheek and tapping his foot in midair.

He smiled at Yuzu sometimes. She would be heartbroken if he didn’t. He would never let anyone make her unhappy. …He’d protect Karin too, but trying to keep her happy was as useful as trying to stop the sun from shining. The moody little… clone of him. His eyes lidded down with distaste at the realization.

He thought he remembered smiling genuinely when he’d rescued Rukia, and gleefully thrown her full throttle at a hapless Renji. His blood had been singing with power that day, his heart pumping in anticipation of battle and his muscles solid in their confidence of victory. Being able to chuck the noisome and bossy little Kuchiki Rukia was icing on that big, big fucking cake. It was hard not to laugh at the memory.

He let his low chuckle die and sighed, rubbing his forehead and the moisture from under his eyes. The unusually thoughtful boy pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in the corner where he thought his dirty laundry was. With little grace he wriggled and hopped out of his jeans and whipped them against the wall and then fell back against his mattress with a creak. He rubbed a sore pectoral with some annoyance, before curling up on his side and deciding to try for sleep.

He didn’t know when he’d finally drifted off, but when he woke up a few hours later, he was pissed. He didn’t get enough fucking sleep as it was. Then a keening and violent roar in the distance let him know. A hollow… His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, judging whether or not anyone else could get there first.

Then something so cold it burned shot up his spine. His throat locked and his muscles froze. His panicked mind grew hot and angry, thrashing against whatever held him, until he heard those familiar and dissonant chords.

“Whatsa matter, aibo, just a lil’ ol Hollow got you all scared?” The jarring and scraping notes of Shirosaki’s voices sounded even worse when he laughed. “Cause it should, aibo. You been ignorin’ me all this time… But I’m gettin’ closer to you every day, faster’n faster, and pretty soon, King, this body’s gonna be mine. I ain’t gonna let you wreck it cause you suck so much.” The voice of the Hollow within him undulated with joy. He was a monster right from his nightmares, and he was sure Shirosaki would be proud of that. Ichigo swallowed slowly again. If he hadn’t been frozen already, he would have become still with fear. Losing control… “I won’t be cruel, Ichi… I’ll let ya watch. I’ll show ya how t’use this body properly,” His voice was absolutely laced with insanity. Ichigo couldn’t let that thing inside him wreak terror on the outside world.

“You won’t get a damn thing!” He yelled, defiant of the fear that was settling heavy on his shoulders and the cold fingers that seemed to be creeping up onto his cheeks. He couldn’t lose control. Nothing was more dangerous than losing control.

“I won’t change too much…” Inoue’s severed head dropping to the ground with a thunk. “Take care of the annoying bitch… Shut up that nuisance Quincy for once,” A gaping hole in Ishida’s chest that stained his white clothes crimson. He wouldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t lose control. Students from his school, their bodies were strewn about like pale broken dolls. Karin stared at her dismembered playmates in horror. Isshin shielded Yuzu as he slashed. Couldn’t…lose control. Shinigami, underlings and captains alike discarded like trash in a pile of bodies. Wouldn’t… His own hands, using his sword to cut deeply into anyone in his way. No…“You can’t contain us forever, aibo… I’m closer every day, every hour, every minute…” Shirosaki’s bitingly frozen hands squeezed tightly around his warm-blooded twin’s throat, throttling all the life from it he could. Ichigo choked and screamed.

He sat up, still screaming and consumed by the nightmare. He slammed roughly against the chest of his father, trying to control his tears, squeezing his eyes shut. Why was he here? And how could he explain? The choked noises and the vague rocking motion he’d assumed were like nothing he’d done in front of his father since his mother’s death. He couldn’t pretend nothing was wrong. After a moment strong arms encircled him, and pulled him close.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong? What’s got you freaked out so bad?” Ichigo’s rocking ceased, and the only sound left was his heaving breathing. That wasn’t his old man’s deep voice. The tone lacked humor and a thirst for violence this time, but he knew it. Another scream ripped from his throat, tinged with desperation as he tried to break free from the arms around him. “Hey, calm the fuck down Ichigo! I ain’t gonna hurt ya! Do ya want the whole goddamn house to wake up?” Grimmjow hissed at him. “Just tell me what the fuck happened, alright?”

~

Truth be told, Grimmjow was spooked. He’d meant to break Ichigo before, but as stupid as he figured he was personally, not that he would admit it; he thought there was something different going on. The sobbing before had reason. It had started because of Grimmjow, but that wasn’t what it really was about. This panic was definitely…About something specific. Something goddamn fucking terrifying if Ichigo’s reaction was any indication.

He’d screamed again after noticing the Espada, but after his admonishment was limp and still shaking. The substitute Shinigami who’d waltzed into Seireitei, pretty-as-you-please, and challenged Kuchiki Byakuya without a Bankai was shivering in his arms over a dream. Shivering in his arms. This was what he’d wanted to do, wasn’t it? Help Kurosaki? Now seemed like a pretty good time to start if that was his intention. But he wasn’t sure. He would make a beautiful little toy, staring up at Grimmjow with those chocolate eyes from between his legs. But maybe Ichigo wouldn’t break; maybe instead he’d boil over and kill whatever he wanted. Kill without remorse, with pleasure, just like him. Kill everyone in his own family, and his friends, because he knew that he was capable of it.

Grimmjow never stopped wanting to kill someone out of revenge, or hate, or because he was bored. It suited him, but the rage never stopped hurting deep inside his chest. It wasn’t remorse or guilt, just pain; it was agony that he couldn’t extinguish all the things that deserved his fury.

Here was the red to his blue, a counterpart just as passionate. But more than Grimmjow. Not yet irreparable. Beautiful. Fragile beneath steel skin.

What the hell was wrong with him? His face contorted into an ugly sneer. Was he a philosopher now? Goddamn. Why couldn’t he just have fucked him and let him be? Now he was writing fucking poetry in his head, and he ought to beat the redhead to a pulp for it. It was his fault after all. He ought to rip his flesh from his bones.

In his arms, Ichigo had stopped shaking. He was as stiff and tense as a board, but there was no more eerie shivering. In a moment of sensitivity, Grimmjow decided that if he wanted to kill Kurosaki, he could do it later.

“C’mon. Tell me what’s got you spooked. Has to be worse than me to get you like this, eh?” He crushed him closer against his chest. A sheen of nervous sweat covered the Shinigami’s body, and he still panted. And, the Arrancar noted with wry amusement, he was clothed only in boxers. Cosmic karma must have dictated he get some kind of reward for dealing with this shit after all.

“…You don’t make sense,” he replied. His voice was quiet and still confident, even though he stared at the wall instead of the man holding him.

“Neither do you. Got anyone else you can tell this shit?” he kept the sneer painted on his face, even as his skin seemed to study every point of contact.

“Not planning on telling anybody. That…thing that just happened. People find out on a need to know basis, and you sure as fuck don’t need to know, and don’t need to be in my room!” He glared and gritted his teeth.

Grimmjow’s sneer spread into a grin. If Ichigo was feeling fine enough to cuss him out, he was fine enough to deal with a little… play. The grin slipped away.

“You want me to let go of you, fairy?” He said softly, while pressing his body down against Ichigo’s until he lay back against the bed. Ichigo’s breath hitched in his throat as Grimmjow’s hips pressed down hard against him. “…Just kiddin’,” He laughed. “Not that I wouldn’t like to get another piece of your fine ass Ichi, but I ain’t gonna touch a kiddy who just had a nightmare,” Kurosaki’s jaw dropped, and it was the first time he’d ever seen him speechless. He sputtered and grasped for words, and Grimmjow’s inner five year old danced with glee. He leaned down close to the unpredictable and wild object of his obsession, still grinning like a maniac. “Don’t worry, daddy’ll keep the nightmares away for the rest of the night, baby.”

Nobody gets to hurt you but me is what he thought, but didn’t add.

Calling him a baby fueled the reaction he wanted, a blaze behind those brown eyes. Before curses could fly from his mouth, Grimmjow crushed his mouth against his. He forced his tongue past protesting lips to study his mouth. The kiss was brutal and lengthy; the bone of his hollow mask dug into Ichigo’s skin, and as time passed he began to struggle for breath. When the Espada finally pulled away, he nipped Ichigo’s bottom lip. Whatever the brat’s feelings for him, Grimmjow knew that had been one hell of a kiss and his victim would be hard put to stop thinking about it. He wore a smug smirk to match that pride.

“Maybe now you can have a better sort of dream, eh Kurosaki?” He finally climbed off of him and began to open the eerie black gate to Hueco Mundo. Ichigo’s fingers touched his lips before he leapt to his feet, practically snarling.

“You psychotic mother—“


~AN~

Hallo! I am sick as a dog so perhaps you'll get another update soon. Please keep reviewing because I am a review junkie now. I need more! You're all being wonderfully gracious. Feel free to give me ideas or critique my work. If you think I have strayed too far from reality or think something reallyreally needs to happen in the story, I would love to know. I hope the story continues to be enjoyed. It's kind of difficult to get a rape victim to like his rapist *cough* but I've got Grimmjow working hard, don't you worry. I think that's all... Oh. That and it would have been way too obvious to work in smex while Ichigo was freaked and in his boxers. Which is why I didn't do it.

Big thank yous to Surreptitious Sinner, Moonlit Dew, Kurokotsu, KaigetheRage, Mizubenten, Tennak and everyone else!