Trusting the Darkness

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach and its characters. They belong to Tite Kubo. They are a work of fiction. I do not make any money out of this.
*Thoughts are in brackets [thoughts]
*Spoilers for Bount Arc

***************

His first thought was something like [ Why does everything always happen at once? ] The bount had already started their attack and those strange mosquito things were having a happy time sucking the lives out of people. Renji’s reiatsu had disappeared completely, and of course Urahara had other plans for Ichigo’s time. Which left finding and helping his tattooed friend to Rukia and the others. When Ichigo found Keigo under attack, he felt a stab of panic. From that point thing’s got a little muddled. They usually did when he was fighting. Things calmed a bit when Kira stepped in. And although Ichigo was thankful for the save, part of him was still gritting his teeth at his own loss.

[Oi, King, are you still pouting?] Ichigo growled quietly to himself at the damned hollow’s words.

[Go away, freak,] he answered in his mind. As expected, the response only earned him a chuckle. Ever since Inoue had healed him, he had been sitting in the same spot in Urahara’s basement training area, trying to think up a good way to deal with the bount problem. He’d come up with nothing besides his usual ‘charge in head first like a mad man’ routine. Unfortunately, not only would that plan not work this time, he found his thoughts drawn to something else. When the doll had managed to catch him in it’s iron web, immobilizing and beating him....

Ichigo’s head sagged comically. Why was he so focused on that? There was nothing strategic about it. In fact it could be said it was a disgrace. He had not only been captured but he’d lost his sword as well. That was one of the thing’s he’d learned early. His own rules of battle. Some he’d learned from others and some he’d come to understand on his own:

1. When you counter, don’t let them cut you.
2. When you protect someone, don’t let them die.
3. When you attack, kill.
4. Never lower your eyes to an enemy.
5. Never lose your weapon.

And so on.

Not only had he failed to counter properly, he’d failed to defeat that bastard and his doll. The final nail in the coffin of his pride had been that Kira had had to save him.

[Yer bein’ too hard on yourself, King...]

Ichigo felt his anger snap and he hit himself in the back of the head as if to punish the hollow. Of course all it got him was a bit of pain and his thoughts were drawn inexorably back to the pain he had received while bound by that dumb doll. Thinking about it made his stomach clench. Why couldn’t he get his mind off that?!

He let his mental guard down just a little as he felt himself sinking deeper into confusion and depression. That momentary slip was all the hollow needed to yank the shinigami’s soul into his inner world.

Ichigo blinked and looked around before instantly drawing his sword and looking for an attack. All he found, though, was his hollow standing quietly in front of him.

“What the hell do you want, freak?!”

In answer, the pale version of him simply drew his own sword before stabbing it into the ground and stepping away from it, effectively disarming himself. Ichigo couldn’t tell if he felt more on edge from this action or relieved that the other wasn’t intent on slicing him to pieces. He slowly relaxed his stance, but did not let go of his own blade. The hollow walked to him slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, black and gold eyes shining with caution and something else Ichigo couldn’t -- or didn’t want to -- name. Ichigo took a half- hearted swing at the other in an attempt to test his motives. The hollow moved so fast it was almost as if he had disappeared. One second he was in front of Ichigo and the next he was simply gone. Ichigo blinked but before he could figure out where the hollow had gone, he felt a strong hand close over his wrist and an arm slip around his waist from behind.

“Calm down, King,” a soft voice spoke into his ear. “I don’t wanna fight this time.”

Ichigo grit his teeth, pulling his head away from the warm breath, and tested the grip on his wrist. It was solid. “So what do you want?”

“I know the answer you’re looking for.”

It took a moment for the words to register in Ichigo’s head. There was no challenge, no threat, in the words or the tone. Ichigo found he was suddenly worried about his inner hollow. What could make the homicidal freak act like this?

He tested the other’s intentions carefully. “You know how to take out the bount?”

“Don’t make me smack you, Ichigo.”

The statement was so out of place that Ichigo couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t remember a time when the hollow wasn’t trying to take over his soul.

“Hmmm, do that again.”

Ichigo blinked in confusion, “Do what again?”

“Laugh.”

Ichigo turned his head a little so he could see the other’s face. The concern he saw there stunned him. He had not even considered the possibility that the hollow could feel anything but blood-lust. As a blush threatened to expose itself on his cheeks, Ichigo cleared his throat. “Let me go. Now.”

Silently, the hollow did just that, backing up a few paces to distance himself from Ichigo’s Zangetsu.

Ichigo sighed, rubbing his forehead. He really didn’t feel up to dealing with someone as deranged as the hollow. “What answer do you have then?”

“You keep thinking about that fight. What she did to you.”

Ichigo scowled. “So what...”

“So I know what fascinates you so much.”

“Which is?”

“Losing control. The pain.”

Ichigo glared. “The hell?!”

“Chill, King. I already put down my sword. Can’t you trust me a little?”

Ichigo eyed the other suspiciously. “Trust you with what?”

“Trust me with yourself.” The hollow raised a hand to forestall the protest that was obviously coming. “Zangetsu isn’t going to let me actually hurt you, King.”

Ichigo felt the answering feelings from his zanpakuto, not only affirming what the hollow said, but suggesting he should try it. [If the old man’s okay with it...]

“F..fine...” [I think...] He took Zangetsu and carefully set it down, still watching the other closely. [I must be crazy...] He stepped closer at the hollow’s beckoning motion, still tense. “I... I think... I should know your name at least...”

The white version of him blinked. “I don’t have one.”

Ichigo felt a pang. To not even have a name must be a lonely existence. He thought for a moment then looked up sheepishly. “It’s kind of dumb, but how about I call you Shirosaki?”

The hollow tilted his head a little and grinned. “That sounds perfect.”

“Okay, Shiro, now what?”

Shirosaki grabbed Ichigo’s hand and turned to lead him toward a certain skyscraper. “Follow me, King.”

* * * * * * *

Ichigo looked up at his bound wrists, the side of the building where the chains attached, and wondered once more if he’d really lost his sanity. Shiro hadn’t been rough with him at all. He’d even said that one word from Ichigo would end the ‘experiment’. And oddly, Ichigo believed him.

Ichigo glanced over at his top that had been discarded, leaving him in just his hakama. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being thus exposed to Shirosaki, but he wasn’t completely adversed at least.

A hand ghosted down Ichigo’s back, pulling a soft shiver from the bound boy. Shirosaki leaned in and ran a hand through Ichigo’s hair. “You ready, King? I’ll start with something light.”

Ichigo felt his stomach clench again and he just nodded. “Get on with it then.”

Compared to the doll’s attack, the flogger barely registered to Ichigo’s senses. When Shirosaki increased the power behind the strikes, though, Ichigo shivered. Seeing that reaction as a sign, Shiro switched to a heavier whip. Three tongues of braided leather, each ending in a diamond shape, struck Ichigo’s back without a warning. The gasp that followed made Shirosaki smile. He kept the same level of strength and struck several more times, leaving little marks behind. Increasing the force so that each strike left welts, Shiro continued silently.

Ichigo reacted more mentally than physically. The pain was well within his tolerance, and yet he found himself trembling lightly. When the strikes increased Ichigo felt himself strain against the chains binding his wrists and panting shallowly. Almost right away a hand ran over his hair and to the back of his neck.

“Breathe, King," Shiro’s tone was calm and Ichigo felt himself obeying. “There you go, relax, you’re safe.” Shiro’s voice and the light petting the hollow was giving him calmed Ichigo and his breathing evened again. Only then did he realize he was being aroused by the scene. A furious blush splashed across his cheeks and he turned his face to hide it against his arm.

Shiro smiled to himself before pressing a soft kiss to Ichigo’s neck. “Should I keep going?”

Ichigo’s only answer was a small nod.

Shiro stepped back and brought out a heavier length of leather, like a heavy belt. The first strike pulled a gasp from Ichigo. The second and third produced both welts and small cries. Ichigo bit down on his lip to keep silent, embarrassed by the sounds he was making. By the tenth blow, Ichigo’s lip was bleeding and his breathing was ragged. But he still did not call for it to stop.

Shiro stepped closer and grabbed Ichigo’s chin hard. “Stop that.” The tone of the words made it plain that it was an order. “You’re supposed to be letting go of your control. Let me hear your voice.” Shiro reached around and with a single yank, untied Ichigo’s belt, letting his hakama fall to the ground, fully exposing Ichigo’s body.

“H..hey!”

Shiro turned Ichigo’s face and licked at the bound shinigami’s bloody lip. Ichigo couldn’t contain the soft moan, making Shiro smile. “See, King? That’s a good sound. Do you want a bit more?”

Ichigo shivered but nodded again and Shiro stepped back to oblige him. Knowing Ichigo’s tolerance for pain was high, Shiro struck full force, tearing a sharp cry from Ichigo’s throat. Each stroke of the leather drew more cries and made Ichigo harder. Shiro finally stopped, having lost count after the twentieth stroke.

Ichigo’s knees finally gave out and he sagged against his bonds, shaking and panting, when he felt no more abuse coming. Shiro’s hands slipped over Ichigo’s hips and ghosted over a couple of the welts on his back, making the boy moan softly.

Ichigo’s eyes were only half open, but Shiro could feel no panic or despair from him. “You did well, King,” he said against his neck. The blue tongue snaked out and slid over a welt, tasting Ichigo’s sweat and a faint tang as if from blood. Meanwhile, his hand made it’s way around to Ichigo’s front, sliding over his hardened length and pulling a sharp reaction from him.

Shiro smiled and bit down on Ichigo’s shoulder as he began stroking him. Ichigo arced back, his head falling against Shiro’s shoulder, his hips pressing further into Shiro’s touch.

“Kiss me, Ichigo,” came the request and Ichigo turned his head immediately to find Shiro’s pale lips. He moaned into his hollow’s mouth as he moved closer and closer to his peak. When Shiro felt him reach his limit, he broke the kiss and increased the speed of his hand. When Ichigo came, he did so loudly, his body arcing hard against his bonds and Shiro’s chest. He felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and keep him from collapsing totally against the cuffs. Dimly he felt the bindings release and Shiro laid him down on the ground.

It had been one of the more intense experiences he’d ever had. He lay there, slowly coming down off of the endorphin high.

Shirosaki stroked his hair gently as he waited for Ichigo to come back to his senses. Idly, the hollow wondered if he would survive to remember the experience or if Ichigo would just try to kill him outright. He was pleasantly surprised when Ichigo turned and curled against Shiro’s chest, already half asleep. The hollow smiled softly and pulled Ichigo a little closer.

[I’m glad you finally figured out that you could trust me, King.]