Shatter His Heart

His Golden Journey

Ichigo’s whole being hurt. A lot. It hurt so much that he ever didn’t want to open his eyes. He had been enjoying the warmth of the water he’d been floating inside once he had been released from the box. It had been comforting, holding him in a tight embrace that felt good for a change. He hadn’t been inside his inner world in so long, and getting lost inside it was such a temptation. For so long, though he forgot how long, he’d been prohibited from it. Something, or rather, someone had forced him into a box, a tiny box, and it hurt so much inside there.

He was angry; he just wanted to rest and forget. Forgetting what he’d been reduced to, screaming and flailing at the edges of his mind as his body obeyed the commands it was given. His voice saying things he couldn’t stand as he screamed and cried out to stop, to shut up!

He recalled the first bit, when he fought them. That was there, at the edges of memory despite how much he tried to push it away. Then the box. The bloody box. It had been the place that his soul had been locked into. He was angry because he knew it was Shiro that had done it when those silver cuffs sunk into his flesh. That part was clear no matter what he did. He saw those cuffs, searing and burning through flesh, muscle, and bone…

Those cuffs, those horrid things, sealing away everything he was. Pushing the hollow and Zangetsu deeper, and he couldn’t even tell if they still existed. He had felt like his brain exploding. And his consciousness, his very soul, tried to reach out and stop the shattering, but there was a barrier, a black barrier tinged with red. It was the box. He realized that it was Shiro. He hadn’t disappeared, he’d transformed into a barrier, a box to contain him. He’d erected a barrier to protect Ichigo’s soul. After all, all Shiro wanted was to protect him. If he hadn’t, that bright lightning that was slowly devouring pieces of his mind would have done the same to his soul. He knew that was the intent, to turn him into little more than a Gigai. And he knew, he knew, as much as this was to break him, it was also to break everyone who had ever been a part of his life once they realized what had happened.

Flailing madly at the barrier, watching with horror, that was the worst. A tiny box, and he felt the lightning shoot around it now and then, threatening to break the walls and consume him. To his horror, it was beginning to crack more and more as time went on. The whole thing was cracking on all sides. When it did, his consciousness would come bubbling through and he knew he’d several times begged for death when it happened. Being subjected to the beatings, the abuse, the ual horrors, that was one thing. But to know he was asking even begging for them to love him, to punish him, which only meant to and beat him again, it made him want to die so badly. And for a minute, he thought the person hurting him would do just that.

Then there was that blonde Arrancar who shouldn’t exist. He saw him, he heard him and disbelieved he was real. How could an Arrancar be in Soul Society walking around like this? No, he wasn’t real… Then one part of him recalled that things weren’t right…things were wrong…

The cracks were bad now, and he was going to lose himself soon, he knew. Whatever immense power the hollow, and perhaps Zangetsu too, had poured into creating this small sanctuary of hell for him was fading over time. The walls were thinner. At first, he couldn’t see, only sense what was happening. Then they’d grown thinner and thinner, now translucent, and he watched through his own eyes.

The lightning had split him, though. And pieces of his soul had escaped through those cracks. The one remaining here, this horrified piece, was Truth. This was Truth of himself, sitting frightened as the world of his own mind crashed around him. Pet was long gone, the first to escape and assume control of the body they owned, then Child too… Child would have hidden from the lightning, so Truth wasn’t as worried about him. Then Fighter had run out, and last, Protector had tried to go find them all. But it was too late. This piece, Truth, he understood that it was too late. It was a matter of time before the lightning destroyed them all.

Except, Truth didn’t understand the Arrancar. Until he was clinging to him, being carried away from Las Noches, Pet screaming to be let go, to be let go back to Master, and Truth wanted so badly to kill Pet right then. Stupid, idiotic Pet!

Then he was looking up into Master…no not Master, Byakuya! And screaming, oh he was screaming in terror, and he almost broke his protective shell to scream at him that he wasn’t the Master. He knew the master was Aizen. He remembered, at least this piece of him did. He saw through the illusion. Every single time from his protected space, he saw through it. At first, he had believed him, but then the cuffs, they’d sealed him and the illusion was only visible to his physical soul form, not the soul that was secreted away. And the look in Renji’s eyes, the absolute horror as he realized that his friend was scared of him…

He could do nothing, though. If he broke the barriers, thin as they were, he’d be consumed by the lightning that was around his small, protected space. And then what his hollow had done would be for nothing. He glimpsed the faces, and he cringed at the tears in eyes he didn’t want to see cry and he could do nothing. The pain was too much, though. He wasn’t sure how much he could take. The glimpses of the tortures, they were gone as soon as he saw them. He saw them, was disgusted, and they were gone. Just like these faces. One second he knew them, the next he didn’t. It was breaking, he knew that was why. He saw the light leaking into the small box, lashing at him painfully, trying to rip apart what remained of the soul. His tenuous hold on sanity was slipping. Truth was sure he was all that remained besides idiot Pet who was speaking nonsense.

Then the light was gone and the barrier shattered, and he was falling. Was he dead, finally? It felt that way. Maybe he’d be a soul reaper again once his soul passed to soul society. But wait, would it even do that? He was in soul form, not his body. Ah, it didn’t matter, as long as it was over. He felt warm and it was quiet. Then just as suddenly, water rushed in around him and he was in the sanctity of his inner world. He could feel the hollow and Zangetsu. He had no idea what had happened, but he was numb and he wanted to stay that way.

Then it felt like he was being flooded with things he didn’t want to see. His eyes flew open and he started to rip apart the walls of memory. He heard his hollow screaming at him to stop. But he didn’t want him to stop. He didn’t want to remember. He wanted to stay here, in the water, forever, and just…

He felt arms encasing him as he fought weakly and he looked up to see he was in the impassive embrace of Zangetsu. He writhed, and screamed curses at his hollow half and the Zanpakutō spirit. How could they do this to him? He didn’t want to remember! He didn’t want to connect Byakuya’s face with this, or Rukia, Renji, Tōshirō, Ukitake… The faces and the pain flooded him. His friends, the captains he’d fought and those he now trusted, stripping away every shred of dignity he had left. He screamed. It wasn’t them, but it was them! He fought the spirit that held him in an iron like grip. Soi Fon’s face laughing at him, Yumichika screaming at him as he sliced through his stomach with the three-pronged sword…Ikkaku piercing his hands one on top the other with the spear like Zanpakutō of his to hold him in place….

He swore insanity would claim him in the flood of memories, five years of memories, crashing into him within a span of moments. He desperately clung to the fact that it wasn’t them, couldn’t be them, he wasn’t a monster, they knew it, he knew it.

But what if he was? What if they did think that? What if they despised him as a disgusting creature? And now even more? Dirty and wrong and broken? Wasn’t he supposed to protect the ones he loved, not end up like this? Broken, quivering and hurt? No, Truth was sure that he was all this and worse.

“I’ll kill myself!” he screamed, receiving a rebuke from the hollow. He didn’t know where it came from, deep within him. If they weren’t going to let him die from the shame and humiliation, perhaps ending this pitiful excuse for an existence would work better. Then Zangetsu let him go. He was too weak to do anything, the walls of memory, crashing into him with force had left him laying weak in the waters of his world.

“It has to be this way, Ichigo,” the spirit said, kneeling beside him. “You have to remember to heal and become who you still are, even if you can’t tell it yet.”

So here he was blinking at the low lights in the room, his breath quickening suddenly. He felt someone stir beside him, and he instinctively shrank back from them. Truth had no idea what had happened or where Pet had gone, but he was gone, at least, for now.

“Ichigo?” a familiar voice whispered, and he turned, his eyes frantically searching the room and landing on a familiar white and green striped hat.

“Ichigo, say something so I know you’re there,” he said, leaning forward.

Ichigo flinched away, though not as violently as Urahara had previously seen. “Getabishi,” he whispered softly, hands curling into the sheets at his throat, eyes wide.

Urahara let a breath out he wasn’t sure he was holding. “You remember me? Do you remember who you are?” It was a funny question, since he’d just said his name twice.

But perhaps not. Ichigo stared at him and opened his mouth. “Pet?” he queried then shook his head as though dislodging the thought. Why would he call himself that? Pet wasn’t here right now, he was. “No…no…”

“It’s okay, it will come back,” Urahara said, reaching tentatively toward him, only to pull his hand back as Ichigo flinched away again. “No one here is going to hurt you. I know you’re confused, but you’re here, in the fourth division in soul society.”

A panicked look crossed his face as he looked around. “Remember, Ichigo, it wasn’t here, you were with Aizen. He made you think you were here.”

Ichigo chewed thoughtfully on his lip. Why had things seemed so clear inside his inner world? Now they were muddled, and he had two sets of things in his head trying to vie for dominance over each other. The overwhelming need to cower and submit as the pet he had become, and the defiant man he had been at the beginning of the ordeal. No, Pet was here, that was the problem. Pet was here with him and Truth didn’t like that. He wanted Pet to die and go away.

“I know,” he whispered, looking around, despite the statement, his body was still held close and hardly moving. “I know but I don’t know, I know but not…”

Before he knew it, his eyes were filled with tears at the confusion tearing at his head. He reached both hands up to his hair and started pulling violently at it, as though the act would jar something loose in his head. He felt the strands yanking out by the roots and felt the pleasure jet through him at the pain. It was twisted and horrible but he wanted it so bad. That pain…

Urahara grabbed his wrists despite the flinches and pulled his hands out of his hair, thick strands clutched in his hands where he’d yanked pieces out. He stared at Urahara, terrified at the feeling of being touched, especially on his wrists and he screamed, yanking his hands away and tumbling in a heap from the bed, clutching desperately at the covers he’d drug with him from the bed. He was panting and nearly hyperventilating when he looked up to see the dark haired fourth captain rest fingers against his forehead, and before he could protest he’d fallen under the sleeping kido.

Unohana looked at Urahara’s face. She smiled softly, gathering him up and putting him back in the bed. “Believe it or not, Urahara-san, it is a good sign that his mind is returning. He’s confused; we just have to keep telling him that we know what is going on. And give him time.”

Urahara nodded, looking at the sleeping face. He looked up as Renji entered, relieving him for the evening. It still amazed Urahara how many people had been touched by the human Shinigami substitute.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

-Spiraling-

Swirling pain.

“You enjoy the pain, pet?” a husky whisper.

“Yes, Master,” the conditioned response to the body over his back pressing him into the wall.

“Here, pet,” he said softly, handing him a knife. “You can do it yourself, pet. This is how I show my love, pet. If you are bad, punish yourself. If you are a good pet, love yourself.”

A hitched breath. One hand flat to the wall, the other holding the glittering knife. He stared at it. He had the power to do this now? A flare welled in his stomach. He had power now. Not just them. He smiled. “Pet can love,” he whispered. “Pet can punish.”

He took the silver knife and began to cut lines into his forearms. He was in control! He screamed as the Master came closer to finishing his love today. It still hurt after so many times. But he focused on the blood running down his arms, and switched hands to do the same to the other. He would have cut all the way to his wrists, but his cuffs covered them. He settled for stopping at the top of them, and winding the blade up again.

“You like that pet?” Master whispered, slamming into him hard enough to bounce his face off the wall, then shivered as he felt that same sensation. He pulled away. “Have fun, sweet pet. This is my love.”

Long into the night, the blood dripped. And come morning, the pale form was given more to replace the lost amount. The knife was left within easy reach, though, of the chained pet.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

“He woke up,” Urahara said to Renji softly. “It wasn’t as good as we’d hope, he’s confused, but it looks like he’s caught between the two things, what he was trained into and the real one. He’s going to go through a lot of things, Renji. And be prepared. He might lash out at you, or himself.”

Urahara stood and left the red head with Ichigo. He knew how much he’d been hurt, finding out that Ichigo had been hurt using his image. He came every night, for two hours, to sit with him. Despite having to continue with his duties as the fukutaichou of sixth division. He hadn’t missed a beat, though, even if he was a little weary around the edges. Rukia was standing outside the doorway, watching.

Urahara placed a hand on her shoulder. “Go in with him,” he said softly and left quietly.

Rukia nodded and went to stand beside Renji, wrapping a hand gently in his. He didn’t look up as he watched Ichigo’s breath rise and fall.

“Why, Rukia?” he said softly. “I mean, of all of us, why him?”

Rukia shook her head, her hand tightening, and fingers intertwining with Renji’s. “I don’t know. You saw as I did. That power he has hidden inside him. Aizen knew he could defeat him, and he did what he could to get his hands on that power before he could.”

She heard Renji’s voice become tighter, obviously fighting the urge to cry. “Why not kill him? Why do this…”

“I don’t know, prove he’s in control, perhaps,” she said softly.

Renji looked up to see her violet eyes tearing up again. “I know.”

“I don’t think there’s a single division that can get it out of their mind. That Aizen took someone that even the head captain may fear, and broke him like…like some sort of toy. If he can do that, and drive this much fear and anguish into our very hearts… He wants us to know that fighting him is hopeless. That’s what it is,” Rukia said with a sigh.

She didn’t want to think of what other reasons there might have been. She didn’t want to mention that the Arrancar that was now sleeping curled in the big chair in the corner had escaped with him, and Aizen hadn’t intended him to come back at all. She turned, seeing her brother standing in the door, watching.

“Nii-sama, what are you doing here at this hour? You should be asleep,” she said, not bothering to disentangle her hand from Renji’s, perhaps not realizing the intimate position their hands has acquired as they spoke.

Byakuya looked down at the now mostly healed substitute Shinigami. “I came to see how he was.”

Renji swallowed. “Urahara-san said he woke up for a minute, confused about what’s real and what isn’t. We’re still not sure exactly how he’s managed to come through it. Kurotsuchi-Taichou was talking to Unohana-Taichou and was telling her the extent of what those cuffs were made to do. It wasn’t supposed to destroy just his mind, but to eventually destroy the soul of the person wearing them. Completely tear it apart, he said. Even for Kurotsuchi-Taichou, he said it was perhaps one of the most sadistic and disgusting devices he’d ever encountered.”

Byakuya nodded, seeing that the red scar tissue was still visible on both forearms. “Just how deeply they had been embedded into his arms was evidence of that,” he said.

They remained like that for a long time, until the night was once again shattered as much as the orange haired Shinigami in front of them.

All three had managed to seat themselves and wait out the night, or until Ikkaku came to relieve Renji. Wonderweiss would wake up and check on him now and then, usually muttering something as he looked him over.

All those who sat watch were volunteers. No one was required to do this, if they had not, a fourth division person would be sitting watch. But knowing that he had been put through what he had, they wanted to show him that it had not been them. That they cared about him, that he was their friend.

Ikkaku rubbed his eyes as he entered the room to find Rukia and Renji slumped against each other. He grinned as he saw their hands entwined. About damn time, he thought to himself. Leave it to Ichigo to finally get those two to realize how they felt about each other. Then he realized that Byakuya was slumped in another seat in the corner with the small blond Arrancar leaning against him in the seat. He shook his head, and then heard the fractured sound coming from Ichigo’s body. It wasn’t a scream per say, but more like a shaky groaning sound.

He dropped his hand hard onto Renji’s shoulder who started, nearly running his head into Rukia who gave a surprised shout herself. They both blinked and saw Ikkaku standing over them. He gestured to where Ichigo. He was beginning to writhe on the bed, locked into some kind of memory or dream.

“Ah, where did it go?” he muttered, his hands blindly fumbling around the bed in his sleep. “Master took it!” He seemed distraught at whatever was missing. “Ah, master took his love,” he whined, thrashing his head back and forth.

By now Byakuya had stood up, unsure whether to stay in the room or not. Then he watched as too his horror, he took one hand and began slicing into his arms with his nails, sending thick trails of blood down them. He kept muttering about punishing himself and there was a collective gasp as he changed to the other side, digging nails deep into the flesh of his arm. Byakuya was frozen in place, not because of the fact he was doing this in his sleep, and not waking up, but the look of absolute bliss on his face.

He looked up to see Unohana come in, eyes tired, with Ikkaku trailing behind her. Byakuya hadn’t noticed when he left. Unohana frowned as she saw the blood starting to soak the sheets but pressed fingers to his head again, a light surrounding him, and he slumped, now in a very deep sleep, hands, dropping to his stomach.

Byakuya stared at him. “He was pleased when he was doing that, why was he enjoying cutting himself like that?”

Unohana sighed, wrapping the bleeding wounds quickly. “Kuchiki-Taichou, you have to remember, the only touches he’s received for five years have been painful ones. To him, the only way he received interaction was through hurting him. He’s been deprived of human interaction for all intents and purposes. As much as he fears touching others, he craves it, but until he can stand to be touched by others…I fear this self-injurious behavior may continue. And it may become drastically worse.”

Byakuya looked down as Wonderweiss had wandered over and laid his head on Ichigo’s chest with a sad expression on his face. “What are our options? We can’t let this continue, and staying here…”

“We can’t send him home, the human world is going to be too much of a shock, and his other human friends seeing him like this would damage his hold on reality. Not to mention that Kon has been living Ichigo’s life for five years. A drastic change like this would be a mistake. I was speaking with Urahara at length, and we think it may be of benefit to place him in the world he was tortured in, to show him that it is not a danger to him,” she said thoughtfully.

Rukia nodded. “So we should take him home with us to Kuchiki manor? Won’t that damage him more, to be there?”

Unohana sighed. “It may. Or it may accelerate the healing process, forcing him to face the reality instead of the illusion that Aizen created.”

Byakuya nodded. “I’ll have my healers put on alert and prepare a room for him. Rukia, can you handle the rest here? We should move him awake if possible.”

“Agreed,” Unohana said. “I’ll leave the deep sleeping kido on him for now, and then wake him when you return.”

Byakuya headed to his home slowly, not sure if this was the right thing to do. But something clenched at his chest when he looked at the broken shell that remained of the vibrant young man that had fought him nearly to death, and still stood up against Aizen. Now, he looked aged beyond anything. The youth that had held him was completely gone. In five short years, the vibrant young man had aged tenfold.

He summoned his head healer, who despite being bleary eyed was given the situation. He straightened immediately, and called one of the female healers who specialized in traumatic situations. To their luck, her services had been rarely needed. But now it would appear, her work would be cut out for her.

“Kuchiki-sama, how badly was he traumatized?” she asked softly, glancing at the team that had come with her. “I mean, I will need to know what was done…”

Byakuya nodded, “I’ll bring you the full report in the morning, but the important issues are that he was captive for two years and endured endless torture, burning, cutting, broken bones, to name a few.”

“Were there any ual assaults involved?” she asked, her face down as she scribbled notes.

Byakuya’s words caught for a second. “Yes.”

She looked up, brow cocked waiting for elaboration. “Severity, number?”

“Severe to leave internal damage and scarring, and as often as daily from what Unohana-taichou suspects.”

Despite being accustomed to dealing with situations of severe physical trauma, soul society was rather unused to dealing with this type. The reason that Hinata had taken the training to specialize in dealing with victims of ual assault had to do with watching her own sister descend to suicide in the Rukon district after a violent assault. She was well aware of the permanent damage that had nothing to do with outward wounds.

“Anything else?” she said, swallowing a lump in .

Byakuya sighed. “The reason he is coming here is perhaps the most bothersome. Aizen used his hypnosis ability, like the one that convinced us he and Ichigo were both dead, to convince him that it was done to him by us, here in Kuchiki manor.”

Hinata glared. “You can’t bring him here if that’s the case, he’ll…”

Byakuya held up his hand. “He’s had a small breakthrough and partially knows what is reality and what was illusion. Unohana-Taichou felt that proving to him that the reality is that he is safe here will trigger him breaking free completely from the illusion. There is much more, but at the moment, this is all I can detail, I must rest before I go to retrieve him in the morning.”

He headed to his rooms and fell into a fitful sleep, worried about many things, the largest of which was the fact that he was going to have to deal with something he had no idea how to deal with. Morning came too early for the Kuchiki head. Considering what today would entail, he’d left Renji to supervise the division. He swirled out of the room once dressed and went to the fourth division where Rukia was waiting at the entrance. He nodded to his little sister, heart clenching again as he thought of Hisana. She was looking rested, so she must have stayed in the fourth division’s rooms last night. He himself was impeccable as always. No hair out of place, no sign of distress on his face.

“Nii-sama, you’re early. Unohana-Taichou will be with him still,” she said softly. He looked up to see Urahara standing at the doorway. He nodded to the ex-captain.

He stood outside the glass walls to watch how the fourth captain handled this. She leaned over and pressed fingers to his head, letting a kido wash over him. His wounds had been healed during the night, but there were still pinkish stripes decorating both forearms.

Unohana nodded toward Wonderweiss who moved up and took hold of both Ichigo’s hands. Ichigo’s eyes fluttered and he started, shaking violently until he locked his eyes on Wonderweiss.

“Hush, Pet Friend,” Wonderweiss said with a smile at him. “We go now.”

He looked around nervously and gave a slight nod as he spotted Unohana standing close by with Urahara.

Unohana spoke to him without moving closer. “You are healed enough to leave the fourth division, so we’re sending you to stay with some friends here in soul society, okay?” she said softly. He looked scared at the thought but nodded and clutched Wonderweiss with both hands.

“And I’m going to need you to be strong about this even though you won’t want to, I need you to break away from the illusion in your mind. So, because of that, Kuchiki-Taichou has prepared a room for you.”

The unbridled fear that crossed his face nearly made her think better of the plan, but just as quickly it faded as the other side of him took over, nodding slowly.

“Before you leave, can you tell me how you managed to keep your soul intact? Kurotsuchi-Taichou examined those cuffs, and there should have been nothing left after the time they’d been on you,” she said softly, as Urahara came up beside her.

Ichigo stared at his hands, his voice shaky. “Boxed, black box, kept it out, kept me inside…hollow made it, but it was cracking, and some of it got through, and it hurt so much…”

She nodded, looking at Urahara. “It is okay, Ichigo, Wonderweiss here is going to walk with you.”

Wonderweiss helped him get to his feet. While he’d been unconscious, Unohana had dressed him in a plain cream colored yukata. She didn’t think he would have dressed in front of the others.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Isshin sighed as he came back into the house. “He’s awake,” he said as he looked at the table where his girls sat with Kon, Aiko, and Seras. Everything had been revealed and now even Yuzu understand the significance of things that had been happening for so long. “Renji said that if we wish, he’ll return to bring us across in the morning. Ichigo’s being settled into a room at Kuchiki Manor in the hopes of dispelling the illusion.”

Kon nodded. “I want to see him again.”

“Alright,” Isshin said but Kon saw the sadness etched in his face. Kon got up and headed up the stairs, suddenly filled with a deep sadness he had to hide from the girls and Isshin.

A moment after entering his…or rather Ichigo’s…room, Aiko put his arms around Kon’s chest and held him. Aiko stood several inches taller than Kon, but he really didn’t notice it often. He did right now, though, because he felt so very small. He turned in his grip though and buried his face in Aiko’s chest as tears began to fall.

“Shush, Kon, I’m here,” he whispered as the door opened and closed again, and Kon knew Seras had come up too. She sat down on the bed and sighed. “We’re here,” he whispered as he steered him to the bed, sitting down himself and pulling Kon to sit between his legs. Seras crawled up and embraced him from behind.

Outside the door, Karin stood with her forehead resting on it. She looked over as Yuzu came up.

“What is it?” Yuzu asked.

“All these years…I just told him to stay away from us. He wasn’t really Ichigo. I didn’t want to see him. He did that, and I can’t imagine how much that hurt him.”

Yuzu put an arm around her sister. “He’ll be okay, Karin. We’re all family now, Kon, Ichigo, you and me, Pop, and Aiko and Seras. We’re all going to be family. So it’s okay.”

Karin sighed. “Yeah. No matter what, we’re family now.” 

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