Darkest Blue

Chapter 8: My Way Home Is Through You

"Can't find my way home,

but it's through you and I know,

what I'll do,

just to get back in your arms."

- My Chemical Romance

'…Kisuke?'

The pain evident in Ichigo's voice sent a flash of anger and pain ringing throughout the blonde's body. The unruffled mask of emotion that was always worn upon his face was slipping, the gritting of his teeth and clenching of his fists betraying the emotions which threatened to overflow within him.

'I'm here, Ichigo. I…' his voice cracked with rage and sorrow. 'I'm so sorry.'

Ichigo couldn't believe his eyes; he had learned not to rely on such untrustworthy senses since his encounter with Aizen's zanpakuto. But something told him that this was not an illusion, it was in the way which Aizen spoke; he sounded as though he was deliberately trying to hurt with his words, not at all as if he was talking to his own illusion. But the knowing of this fact came more from the rush that flooded his body, the joy and the fear that swirled in his insides and made his heart flutter until he felt sick to his stomach.

It was the warm comfort of the tendrils of reiatsu which surrounded the edge of his senses; it was the feelings that could never possibly be replicated. This man was no cheap imitation; he was the real man, the only one that he had ever loved.

It just seemed so illusory for him to be standing there, it was a scenario that Ichigo had dreamed about immeasurable times, but one that he had never expected to see come true. And indeed it was one that he never wanted to come true, for he knew that for Urahara to come here would be suicidal. Even he could not hope to stand against the forces of Las Noches and Ichigo knew that if he saw him killed in reality he would not be able to take it. The illusions broke him so far and what was left of him was terrified of what the actual thing would do.

But still, here he was and here was the reality of the situation. Ichigo felt tears sting in his eyes as he took in the sight of the person that he wanted to see more than anything yet dreaded to bear witness to here in this place.

'Have you come to reclaim your prize?' the lord sneered.

'He is not something which can be claimed, Sosuke. You never could comprehend that. I'm just here to take him home.' Urahara stood there, a dark shadow falling across his face cast from the brim of his hat. What Ichigo could see of his face was twisted in an emotion the like of which he had never before perceived gracing the surface of the shopkeeper. One of his hands curled tightly around the handle of his cane, and Ichigo saw that he was just itching to draw his sword and run Aizen through with it. But he knew better than to attempt that, and so the hand remained stationary, and the sword concealed.

Aizen smirked at the uncharacteristic display of such emotion from the man, and tightened his grip on Ichigo's hair, pulling his head back sharply. He cried out a little in pain, and the rage that flitted across Urahara's face at the sound of his cry made the lord smirk wider than ever.

'Stop that.' Urahara's voice was deadly quiet as it cut the tension which laced the room.

'I can do whatever I want to him.' Aizen mocked in reply, 'He belongs to me now.'

'Ichigo belongs to nobody, least of all you.' Anger flashed in grey eyes. 'Now release him.'

'You are too late.' The lord replied as pretended to oblige, releasing Ichigo from his grasp. The boy fell forward at the sudden loss of support, barely catching himself as his hands and knees met the icy floor. Urahara twitched, concentrating all his willpower on stopping himself from moving to Ichigo's aid as Aizen watched with barely concealed amusement, those eyes missing no such detail as cold calculation worked in his mind.

'Ichigo.' Urahara spoke again, his voice hushed and tender as though he were speaking to a frightened child. 'Get away from him Ichigo.' At the repetition of his name Ichigo twitched and stared, eyes wide and frightened with such a sense of loss that it was breaking the older man's heart. Aizen said nothing as he sat atop his throne, regarding the proceedings with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Ichigo felt as though his limbs were moving of their own accord as he forced his shaking legs to move. His heartbeat thundered in his chest until it felt as though his ribcage would crack, fear and elation fuelling the drumbeat of his circulation. He took a few hesitant steps forwards, swaying on unsteady legs as he moved.

'That's as far as you go, pet.' Ichigo's limbs froze along with the beat of his heart as Aizen spoke. 'Come to me.'

Ichigo froze; fear stuck his feet to the floor as he swayed on the spot between the two men, fear and a false sense of duty pulling him backwards as hope and redemption drew him forwards. A painful silence enveloped the cold room, breath stilling in the throats of the occupants as they waited for Ichigo to make his move. Giving into the fear, he turned back to Aizen. The second that it took for Ichigo's newly acquired instincts to kick in and draw him backwards to his master seemed to draw out into an eternity in the eyes of the blonde as disbelief and shock registered in his mind.

'Ichigo!' Urahara snapped, feeling instantly guilty as he saw shock and pain flicker through the boy's body. Ichigo started, stopping on the spot and turning his head swiftly to face Urahara. The feeling of guilt was forgotten as he stared into those deep brown eyes in which some sense of recognition and life had now exploded as he heard Urahara's panicked shout.

Ichigo had almost reached Aizen's throne when he stopped and as he turned back to face his teacher Aizen shot out his arm, faster than the eye could see or either man could perceive. He took a firm grip of Ichigo's upper arm, pulling him backwards till he was pressed up against the cold stone of the oversized chair, pulling him in and forcing him into an uncomfortable position upon his lap. Ichigo choked out a suppressed cry as he felt those strong arms link around his waist, holding him securely in the lap of his master and enemy.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you Kisuke.' Aizen smirked at the shopkeeper as he made to move, to rush forward and tear Ichigo away from the arms of the monster. He curled one cold hand around Ichigo's chin, dipping his fingers down to stroke the abused skin of his neck. 'There might be an accident.' He threatened, making clear that he would not hesitate to crush the soft flesh of Ichigo's windpipe.

Urahara's top lip curled in an expression of hatred and disgust, but he ceased his movement.

'What have you done to him Sosuke?' Sheer pain and fury replaced the usual playful shine of those grey eyes.

'It's a wonder what you can do with a little training…' Aizen smirked, trailing his fingers up and down the boy's neck, pressing at the lingering bruises as though to accentuate their presence. 'You of all people should know that, my old friend.'

'But… This… This is wrong.' Urahara spoke forcefully, his belief in his student unwavering. 'He is not so weak that you can bend him to your will in so little time.'

'Time?' the lord of Las Noches laughed softly as he spoke. 'You gave me more than enough time to play with him.' The arm that was looped around Ichigo's waist relaxed itself a little as Aizen shifted the boy upon his lap. The hand that was not preoccupied with caressing his neck moved from the crook of Ichigo's waist to rest upon his knee. The redhead barely flinched at the familiar contact, though the sight of such intimacy sent shockwaves of anger flitting across the face of the shopkeeper.

'Sosuke…' he warned, his voice low and laced with fury. Aizen chose to ignore him as his hand worked its way slowly but determinately up the substitute shinigami's leg. He continued speaking as though he had never been interrupted, leaning in to press his lips against the skin of Ichigo's neck.

'Enough time to discover the correct methods.' He sneered, his tongue darting out to taste the bruises he had painted on the skin. Ichigo squirmed a little in his grasp, his eyes trying desperately to avoid Urahara's gaze.

'You bastard…' Urahara spat, gritting his teeth. 'How is this possible…?' His brow furrowed as realisation set in, a fact or figure previously overlooked which now reared at the forefront of his brilliant mind. 'No…' horror contorted his features. '…The time difference.'

'Figured it out have you?' Aizen murmured. 'Just as time in the precipice world moves separately from time in the real world and soul society, here in my domain it is the same. Not as large a difference as with the passage between worlds you understand…' He chuckled softly as his hand lowered, moving downwards to draw a pattern upon the white cloth covering Ichigo's chest. 'But enough to tip time in my favour.'

'But it was only a matter of days…' Urahara muttered, his face darkening as he searched for his answer. 'How long?' he asked, turning his piercing gaze from Ichigo to Aizen.

'Excuse me?' Aizen feigned ignorance as his fingers brushed along the sensitive skin of Ichigo's collarbone, feeling the boy shiver upon his lap.

'How long has it been here? For him!' he snapped, his patience breaking. Aizen paused for a moment as if for effect before answering.

'Almost three months.' The remaining colour drained from Urahara's face and his legs gave way beneath him as he fell to his knees, looking as though the breath had been knocked from him by some unseen blow.

'Three… Three months…?' He was rendered almost breathless at the thought. 'Gods, I… I miscalculated, how could I have been so foolish!' Cursing himself he turned his gaze pleadingly towards the redhead in Aizen's lap. 'Ichigo…' His eyes shone as though tears were prickling behind them.

'And that is why you are not fit to control the hogyoku.' Aizen cut him off. 'That is why you cannot save him. Forget your worthless apologies, they no longer reach him.' Aizen ran his fingers through the orange hair, petting Ichigo like an animal helpless in his grasp. 'He's naught but my puppet now.'

'You're wrong!' the blonde almost growled as he raised his head, making as though to pull his sword free from the cane. It took only that slight movement for Aizen move into action, his reiatsu spiking instantaneously as he pushed the spiritual pressure down upon the shopkeeper.

'I grow weary of this…' he muttered as Urahara was pushed further down upon his knees.

'Ichigo!' he struggled to raise his head beneath the powerful tide pressing down upon him. 'You have to fight him!' Ichigo gave no reaction but to squeeze his eyes shut, as though trying to hide from the pain of the situation. 'You can't lose to him, not like this.'

Aizen ran his hand down from stroking Ichigo's hair to grasp one of his trembling hands in his own. He leaned in slowly to speak into the boy's ear.

'Kill him pet.' He commanded, speaking slowly and purposefully to make the words register in Ichigo's muddled mind. Hurt brown eyes widened and his mouth gaped, noiselessly mouthing what could have been an objection. Aizen pushed him gently from his lap, giving him no opportunity to refuse. From somewhere within his robes he withdrew a surgically white dagger, the hilt of which he pressed into Ichigo's hand. 'Kill him, Ichigo. Do this and it will all end. The suffering of you and your friends…' He touched his fingers gently to Ichigo's cheek and speaking softly he promised, 'I can make it all go away.'

Ichigo's brown eyes shone with restrained sadness as he turned back to the man kneeling on the ground. Urahara began to speak again, desperately trying to make his words get through to him.

'You swore didn't you! You swore to protect them!' Ichigo took another step, his trained body urging him forward while his conscious mind screamed for him to stop, to turn around and plunge the sharpened object into the man he hated rather than the man he loved.

'That's why you're here, to save Orihime, just like you saved Rukia… Remember Ichigo!' But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to stop. He had become completely accustomed to following Aizen's orders and now the words of the one he always used to listen to were failing to reach him. The air was cold. Colder than it had ever felt. Ichigo dropped to his knees in front of Urahara, leaving barely a foot between them.

'They need you Ichigo…' Grey eyes met coffee coloured brown and Urahara realised that Ichigo was crying silently, shining droplets tricking a way down his cheeks. The pressure of Aizen's reiatsu continued to push down on him but he fought against the invisible force with his own as he reached out his arm towards the boy. His fingers brushed Ichigo's cheek, and he flinched, the touch being identical to the last physical contact he had received from Aizen, but did not pull away.

'I…' Urahara refused to let the eye contact between them break as he hoped desperately that he could find some way to get through to his student, to find some way to bring him back to reality. 'I need you.'

'I need you.'

Ichigo blinked, those words echoing in his mind. Suddenly there was a flash of clarity in his eyes, a spark igniting in the dullness of his irises, chasing away the fog. He grabbed Urahara's arm with one hand as he released the knife with the other and let it fall to the stone ground with an unreasonably loud clatter. His lips twitched as though he were going to speak, but all of a sudden the pressure lifted from the room. In that instant Aizen moved from his seat atop the throne to Ichigo's side, grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him away to the side.

'Pathetic.' Aizen spoke, glaring down at the redhead now sprawled upon the floor. 'I had hoped that you would've learned this by now, it is your bonds that make you weak.'

'How dare you?' Aizen turned back towards the sound of Urahara's voice to find a blade almost touching his neck. He stood now, sword unsheathed and pointed directly at Aizen's throat, eyes burning with fury. The lord of Las Noches sighed as he brushed his hair back from his eyes, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips.

'Must I do everything myself?' he sighed as Urahara pushed forward with his sword, meaning to drive it deep into the traitors throat. Faster than he could perceive, his blade was pushed backwards by Aizen's own, the two meeting with a sharp metallic clang. The force of the blow sent the shopkeeper flying backwards a little while the lord stood unruffled. Urahara frowned, he had hoped to avoid a direct confrontation like this, but the decoy was late and now there was no other option. He took up a defensive stance, waiting for Aizen to make the first move.

'You really think that you can defeat me?' Aizen questioned, the smug smile still upon his face. Urahara stood his ground, silence serving as his retort. 'I'm sure you are aware that, even if I chose not to utilize the abilities of my zanpakuto, you still could not hope to defeat me in physical combat alone?'

'Let's see shall we?' A falsely confident smirk tugged at Urahara's lips as he challenged the traitor.

'Indeed we shall.' Aizen moved, swinging his sword so quickly that the blonde was barely able to dodge. He jumped backwards again to escape the swinging blade, somehow managing to keep his footing on the polished floor. Aizen pressed onwards, cutting through the air again. This time his blade was blocked by Urahara's own, and he was the one forced backwards.

Urahara flash-stepped, trying to get behind Aizen before he could register the movement. He swung Benihime at Aizen's back but by the time the blade reached him he had already moved from Urahara's sight. He fell forward as he felt Aizen's sword graze his own back, cutting through green cloth and nicking his flesh. He turned to meet Aizen as he swung to land another hit, blades screaming against each other. Aizen lunged forward again, so quick that blocking was impossible. His aim was thrown off slightly though, and as Urahara moved to dodge the sword cut a glancing blow on his cheek instead of slicing through his neck as was the intention.

Ichigo watched the exchange from his position upon the floor with wide, horrified eyes. His mind was still reeling from the mere presence of Urahara and now terror was taking over as he realised that he was most likely about to bear witness to his death. This was the one thing that would well and truly break him, and as he watched Aizen land blow after blow upon his teacher he could feel the fearful panic bubbling up in his throat, spilling and overflowing in his mind, drowning out all thought and logic.

When he saw Aizen slice through the delicate flesh of Urahara's shoulder, the blade twisting in the wound and ripping the most dreadful cry from the blonde, the levee in his mind broke.

Pain spiked, the pressure in his head became immense, building and pushing around his mind and the red band circling his neck. The world of the throne room and the fight began to fade; Ichigo's vision was sucked away as the stark white of the palace walls and red of the spilt blood morphed into blues and blacks. Screaming, he screwed his eyes shut against the pain and clutched his head with both hands, pressing down on his temples, trying to alleviate the pressure. Reality fell away as the pain in Ichigo's head built to bursting point. Blood began to drip from his nose and it felt as though his mind was going to follow suit and flow streaming from his ears.

Then suddenly, the pain and the pressure stopped.

Ichigo's eyes snapped open and the world was different. He was upon a rooftop, and all he could see was blue. Gone were the duelling figures of Urahara and Aizen, replaced by lazy clouds floating sideways in the vast blue. He realised that he was looking at a daylight sky. It had been so long since he had seen anything other than the night that it took him a moment to adjust to this new wonder. But if he could see the sky then, where was he?

He was lying on his back, the ground hard and cold beneath him, but before he could move to sit up and take in his surroundings the breath was knocked out of him by a foot stamping down upon his stomach.

'Aah..!' he gasped, winded as the air was forced from his lungs. He blinked in pain and confusion as he recognised the figure that the foot belonged to, and at once realised where he had been taken. Above him loomed another Ichigo, this one with skin as pale as snow and eyes as black and soulless as a demon, as a hollow.

'…You?' Ichigo spluttered as he pulled himself into a standing position. The lips of the hollow curled in disgust as he watched his king struggle to stand, the yellow eyes narrowing as it spoke.

'Tch. Told ya didn't I?' It spat. 'You give me the chance and I'll knock you down and crush your skull.' Ichigo was sent flying back to the floor as the creature punched him full on in the face. He hit the ground and winced, though the pain was less than he was expecting.

'You've become weak King. Allowed that bastard to control ya.' It knelt down beside him, gripping his bright hair in its pale fist. 'You're not fit to hold my power any longer.' His hollow self growled in anticipation as its lips curled into a brutal grin.

'And now, I'm taking back my throne.'