HichiIchi - Inside Out
Title: Inside Out.
Author: Spiky.
Genre: Delicious mindfuck.
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Hollow!Ichigo/Ichigo (Hichigo POV [I know WTF]).
Prompt: "Share", at bleachhedonism.
Warning: er, blood.
Word Count: 2,500 words.
Summary: The Hollow could picture him - in his bed, assaulted by countless echoes he couldn't see, sweating, writhing.
A/N: Never imagined I'd touch this complex dark pairing D: I'm not even sure this is eligible for BH since, to me, it's much more creepy than it is sexy *faaails*
Also, this totally disregards filler. FUCK, did you see it? Even Ivory Emovillain was like "hurr, your relationship with your hollow is inappropriate >:{".
Comments are love!
The war had ended, and the Hollow was getting closer. Creeping, crawling, unnoticed. Just a little bit longer.
They couldn't exist in harmony, that much they'd both known from day one. It was also clear they needed to learn to coincide if they wanted to exist at all. Of course, coinciding implied they were even, which they certainly weren't. The Hollow was still only a king in his own little playground, and Ichigo was still an oppressing force, pushing, squashing him under his heel. The Hollow knew he was getting closer, though. He knew that Ichigo needed him.
What happened in Hueco Mundo had been merely the tip of the iceberg as far as Ichigo's stability went, his hold on his reign. It wasn't that his guard was down; it was that their body was now fundamentally wrecked, and the Hollow had learned to take advantage of that. Creeping, crawling, unnoticed.
He wasn't able to truly take over yet, but he'd learned to dig better, to exist just beneath the surface, creeping and crawling in the dark, realer than he'd ever been. Mostly undisturbed. He found it amusing, how he knew everything about Ichigo while his king knew nothing of him.
Sure, he'd already proven to be a creature of greed and instant gratification, sinister and sadistic and brutal, but he was also a slick fucker when he wanted to. Ichigo could never realize the true extent of the Hollow's power over him, and sometimes, the Hollow thought they were both grateful for that.
It was convenient for Ichigo to turn a blind eye on how much the Hollow had already tainted his soul. He would never accept that such an untamed, foul creature was a part of him, but the Hollow would never take the King's control lying down. He would never lie down.
It was easier when Ichigo was asleep. Not because he was more relaxed - since after the war Ichigo had learned to remain alert no matter what state their body was in, not to mention the nightmares. It was because when Ichigo was sinking into his subconscious, it left a vacant seat behind. The Hollow couldn't quite inhabit it yet, but he could roar, could shake him up without the familiar suffocating reiatsu oppressing him. Could scrape at the surface, little by little.
He'd find cracks, at times. Ones he'd long since created, ones the war had made, ones the beast had smashed through on the dome. His own little peepholes, not that he needed them. He knew his king better than anyone, knew him inside out. Resided in his soul, whether Ichigo liked to accept it or not.
And he knew how to push through those cracks, a bony finger peeling through a blue world and into Ichigo's true blackness, into encompassing dark he and he alone reigned over - so close to Ichigo, to their body, it was painful. When he'd try to tear through the darkness as well his fingers would burn to rapidly healing cinder (a trick he'd acquired from the beast itself). A little bit longer.
The black was inviting, strangely clear to him. He knew when it was safe to crawl there, the space between his world and King's, when Ichigo would sense just enough to be uncomfortable, but not to backlash. When he would obey.
By sleep the Hollow made his way, and at the brink of consciousness he tried his hardest to break through the cracks. The middle of the night. His king was weak, pathetic, weary. Carrying too much on their body, run down by wars he'd never belonged in. The aftermath left him broken, and the Hollow was wise to pick through the shards.
He lay down and clutched the darkness that belonged to him, tugging so King would notice. Tonight he wanted to try something new. "Ya've been mistreating our body, aibou," he said, making sure his voice had reached Ichigo's ears.
"What the fuck are you doing?" his king snapped back, followed by a wave of crushing force, surprising the Hollow with more resistance than he'd anticipated. It didn't matter. He'd play King's game. He pushed Ichigo right back, in his place. He'd have him at his feet.
"Savin' us. Every second I'm in this cage I keep ya from wearin' out. I've been the one holdin' our body together, Ichigo, and ya know it. Fucking keepin' ya company when you went on rampages, recklessly. Ain't that unfair to our body? If you'd let me -"
"I don't need your fucking help with my body, hollow, you're not gonna sweet-talk me into losing control," Ichigo snarled.
Fucking liar. "Ya can't lie to me, Ichigo." I am you. The Hollow raised his hand to his throat and scraped a line straight from his jaw to his collarbone, deep enough to draw blood, hard enough for Ichigo to feel the echo of it. He laughed when King gasped, laughed and laughed. I can make ya bleed. There are other ways of losing control.
He dipped his fingernail into the blood and brought it up to his mouth, between his lips. Sucking it in, his tongue immediately met the familiar tangy taste of copper, stronger than anything, realer than anything. Pain. He bit his finger, making sure Ichigo would feel that, too.
"Taste that, aibou?" he asked, licking his lips as the cut on his throat healed. Everything healed, except for the wounds inflicted by his king. Scars on brittle bones, what a sight. He returned his hand to his body, this time his sharp nails raking from the hollow of his throat to his ribcage.
He didn't need to taste it again to know Ichigo had felt it, gushing, spilling, inside out. "Blood," King said. Something pulsed around the Hollow, and he cracked a grin as the darkness cleared slightly. Cracks. Yer shaking, King. We're shaking.
The wounds had already vanished but his hand remained on his chest, stroking different patterns, scratching hard, delicious, but this time avoiding biting into the skin. He didn't need to. Ichigo was broken, cracked enough to feel it now. The Hollow could picture him - in his bed, assaulted by countless echoes he couldn't see, sweating, writhing.
There was nothing Ichigo could have done to stop this, and they both knew he didn't really want to, either. The Hollow knew Ichigo took pleasure in this, he could feel it rolling off his skin. He laughed at the thought, cackling so Ichigo would know who he was dealing with, who shared his body. Ichigo took pleasure in that, too. Oh, the Hollow could use this newfound power over his king.
Just as the thought crossed his mind the crushing force returned to shove him back through the cracks - Ichigo was King for a reason, not weak enough to succumb completely - but the Hollow wouldn't relent, not this time.
Instead of grasping for the darkness, he grasped his body - drawing bloody lines around one nipple. The oppression stopped, Ichigo hesitated, and the Hollow knew he'd won that round. Power in pain, power in pleasure, amazing. He'd never considered going down this road with his prude of a king, but if it was working, hell if he'd stop.
He left the torn flesh for a moment to let it regenerate, and then returned to his nipple. He didn't waste time to tease it, to brush it. He knew how to handle their body, and he knew better than anyone how Ichigo handled it. He squeezed the stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger, tweaking and pulling, his cock already half-hard.
A wave crashed around him, but it wasn't suppressing, it was… coaxing. It was Ichigo sucking in quick breaths, it was Ichigo's arousal. It was their body. The Hollow let out a rumbling moan as he felt King's sweet control crumbling ever so slightly. Suddenly, he felt everything double - the quick breaths, the arousal, the heat. Their body encompassing his, two souls joined rather than trapped together.
He yelped with Ichigo when a second wave came - but it was tangible, an echo in the darkness, a stroke of something alike reiatsu over his own skin. No, not like reiatsu. Like a second consciousness. He realized it wasn't a wave at all; it was as focused and precise as a blade, only a million miles away. He only felt the whiplash of it - of pleasure.
Finally, his mind caught up. King's hand was on their nipple too, squeezing, harshly, a heavy second layer over the Hollow's deeds, the intense elicitations doubled. Fuck, this was excellent. He wondered how far he could push King.
His hand moved to the other nipple, while his second hand followed a distinctive path downwards on his body. Ichigo's hand remained where it was, and the Hollow couldn't help but groan unbidden at the sensation - a faraway yet powerful consciousness he couldn't see brushing against him, touching him while he did the same for Ichigo on the other sensitive bud.
Did it count as quid pro quo when they shared a body? The Hollow didn't know what they were playing at but he liked it in a way Ichigo would never allow himself to. Guess I'll show him.
His fingers dug a little harder into his skin as he proceeded moving downwards, over his ribs, his sides, his firm muscles. Ichigo's other hand followed his movements, and he could practically feel it, the hand itself along with the resulting jolt - just barely brushing the back of his own hand. If Ichigo kept cracking the Hollow would be able to see it, too - life flickering against impeccable white.
He arched slightly when the echo of Ichigo's hand left their nipple and moved up, over a sweaty collarbone, over his previously bleeding throat, and into his mouth - a steady yet ethereal force slipping between the Hollow's white lips. He played along and bit the finger, not at all surprised when a groan reverberated in the darkness.
He sank his nails into his skin again, slashing sharply over his stomach, his hipbones, shuddering at the delicious pain spreading, the blood, and the impact of Ichigo's growing lust. He was impatient already, and that affected the Hollow unbelievably.
He bit a little harder on the ghost of the finger in his mouth, and King's moan coursed through him, caressing him from the inside. Or was that what he had been doing to Ichigo? Maybe it really was quid pro quo, after all. He could both deliver pleasure and feel the reaction. It was glorious.
His cock twitched, and he could practically feel their cock doing the same. More cracks, more peepholes, the Hollow had never been this close. With every second, with every stroke and every wound he felt more of Ichigo, the echoes growing more dominant. It was driving him mad.
Never one to deny himself of anything, he wrapped his hand around his hard cock unhesitant. The first shock of pleasure at being touched there made him arch, but what really got him off was Ichigo's moan cutting through him, and the king's hand gripping their cock firmly. The dual sensation was… mesmerizing, like nothing he ever could experience before.
He thought, with some remorse, that if only the finger in his mouth was more than a ghost he would have bitten it off at that moment. Then his train of thought changed drastically when Ichigo added a second finger and started fucking the Hollow's mouth - and his own mouth, their mouth… Fuck.
The Hollow tightened his hold around the base of his cock and started pumping, Ichigo taking his cue from that. Trying to outdo him. Still all about power play, eh, aibou?
They moved together, the Hollow thrashing because of the slowly peaking pleasure and then reveling in Ichigo's pleasure. It enveloped him, fluttering yet not quite touching, a hair's breath away. Only, Ichigo's reactions were getting stronger, as were the echoes. His control was shaking for him to let the Hollow feel all that, now wasn't it?
He wondered for a moment if Ichigo too was feeling more than just echoes now, if the barrier was breached by that much. He was delighted to find that when his nails raked over his inner thigh the jolt that bounced back from their body was one of pleasured pain. Not bleeding on the outside yet, but it was a start.
It was no surprise his king liked the pain. The Hollow had been observing. Even when touching himself Ichigo was rough - biting on his fingers, littering his thighs with scratches, fisting his cock a little too hard, tugging a little too fast. It was no different now, and all of that doubled with the Hollow's own actions was rapidly driving him over the edge. Not to mention the Hollow wasn't afraid to draw a little blood.
What was really too much was when King's fingers ripped from his mouth and their ghost brushed over the Hollow's bloody thigh, and under it, and fuck - he felt them pushing inside him. It was completely surreal, like he had three hands, all of them moving at a frantic pace - the one on his cock losing its rhythm quickly, the one on his thigh beautifully stained with his own blood, and two fingers plundering inside himself - wrong and painful and amazing.
Moments flew by and they were both tumbling over the edge, the closer Ichigo had gotten to his peak the closer the Hollow had gotten to Ichigo, to their body - mirroring and echoing his own like a lover. Creeping, crawling closer to the light without even moving.
He knew Ichigo was going to come long before the strangled cry passed through his lips, before Ichigo's back arched nearly completely, and before he went rigid and shot load after load of come all over his stomach and chest. Still, nothing could have prepared him for the fucking bizarre sensation of feeling someone else's orgasm, like his core had exploded but the blast couldn't reach him, couldn't burn him to cinders.
Of course, it stopped being bizarre and became insanely brilliant when the Hollow came himself, practically screaming as both his ecstasy and his king's racked through his entire body, from his groin to his bloody fingers.
After the insanity had drained from his veins, he lay there, too worn out to make use of the tender situation (he always was too impulsive to carry out his most elaborate plans), still suffocating from shared sensations. Feelings. He lay there, and felt the darkness returning, total and warm. He felt a wave of disgust from King, felt the echoes disappear completely, every connection or breaches he'd made sealing up.
Next, Ichigo's force finally managed to push him out, back into their inner world, back to Zangetsu. And the Hollow let it, because now he knew how to drag Ichigo in through the same cracks, and keep him caged there. Just a little bit longer, and their body would become his.
END
Author: Spiky.
Genre: Delicious mindfuck.
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Hollow!Ichigo/Ichigo (Hichigo POV [I know WTF]).
Prompt: "Share", at bleachhedonism.
Warning: er, blood.
Word Count: 2,500 words.
Summary: The Hollow could picture him - in his bed, assaulted by countless echoes he couldn't see, sweating, writhing.
A/N: Never imagined I'd touch this complex dark pairing D: I'm not even sure this is eligible for BH since, to me, it's much more creepy than it is sexy *faaails*
Also, this totally disregards filler. FUCK, did you see it? Even Ivory Emovillain was like "hurr, your relationship with your hollow is inappropriate >:{".
Comments are love!
The war had ended, and the Hollow was getting closer. Creeping, crawling, unnoticed. Just a little bit longer.
They couldn't exist in harmony, that much they'd both known from day one. It was also clear they needed to learn to coincide if they wanted to exist at all. Of course, coinciding implied they were even, which they certainly weren't. The Hollow was still only a king in his own little playground, and Ichigo was still an oppressing force, pushing, squashing him under his heel. The Hollow knew he was getting closer, though. He knew that Ichigo needed him.
What happened in Hueco Mundo had been merely the tip of the iceberg as far as Ichigo's stability went, his hold on his reign. It wasn't that his guard was down; it was that their body was now fundamentally wrecked, and the Hollow had learned to take advantage of that. Creeping, crawling, unnoticed.
He wasn't able to truly take over yet, but he'd learned to dig better, to exist just beneath the surface, creeping and crawling in the dark, realer than he'd ever been. Mostly undisturbed. He found it amusing, how he knew everything about Ichigo while his king knew nothing of him.
Sure, he'd already proven to be a creature of greed and instant gratification, sinister and sadistic and brutal, but he was also a slick fucker when he wanted to. Ichigo could never realize the true extent of the Hollow's power over him, and sometimes, the Hollow thought they were both grateful for that.
It was convenient for Ichigo to turn a blind eye on how much the Hollow had already tainted his soul. He would never accept that such an untamed, foul creature was a part of him, but the Hollow would never take the King's control lying down. He would never lie down.
It was easier when Ichigo was asleep. Not because he was more relaxed - since after the war Ichigo had learned to remain alert no matter what state their body was in, not to mention the nightmares. It was because when Ichigo was sinking into his subconscious, it left a vacant seat behind. The Hollow couldn't quite inhabit it yet, but he could roar, could shake him up without the familiar suffocating reiatsu oppressing him. Could scrape at the surface, little by little.
He'd find cracks, at times. Ones he'd long since created, ones the war had made, ones the beast had smashed through on the dome. His own little peepholes, not that he needed them. He knew his king better than anyone, knew him inside out. Resided in his soul, whether Ichigo liked to accept it or not.
And he knew how to push through those cracks, a bony finger peeling through a blue world and into Ichigo's true blackness, into encompassing dark he and he alone reigned over - so close to Ichigo, to their body, it was painful. When he'd try to tear through the darkness as well his fingers would burn to rapidly healing cinder (a trick he'd acquired from the beast itself). A little bit longer.
The black was inviting, strangely clear to him. He knew when it was safe to crawl there, the space between his world and King's, when Ichigo would sense just enough to be uncomfortable, but not to backlash. When he would obey.
By sleep the Hollow made his way, and at the brink of consciousness he tried his hardest to break through the cracks. The middle of the night. His king was weak, pathetic, weary. Carrying too much on their body, run down by wars he'd never belonged in. The aftermath left him broken, and the Hollow was wise to pick through the shards.
He lay down and clutched the darkness that belonged to him, tugging so King would notice. Tonight he wanted to try something new. "Ya've been mistreating our body, aibou," he said, making sure his voice had reached Ichigo's ears.
"What the fuck are you doing?" his king snapped back, followed by a wave of crushing force, surprising the Hollow with more resistance than he'd anticipated. It didn't matter. He'd play King's game. He pushed Ichigo right back, in his place. He'd have him at his feet.
"Savin' us. Every second I'm in this cage I keep ya from wearin' out. I've been the one holdin' our body together, Ichigo, and ya know it. Fucking keepin' ya company when you went on rampages, recklessly. Ain't that unfair to our body? If you'd let me -"
"I don't need your fucking help with my body, hollow, you're not gonna sweet-talk me into losing control," Ichigo snarled.
Fucking liar. "Ya can't lie to me, Ichigo." I am you. The Hollow raised his hand to his throat and scraped a line straight from his jaw to his collarbone, deep enough to draw blood, hard enough for Ichigo to feel the echo of it. He laughed when King gasped, laughed and laughed. I can make ya bleed. There are other ways of losing control.
He dipped his fingernail into the blood and brought it up to his mouth, between his lips. Sucking it in, his tongue immediately met the familiar tangy taste of copper, stronger than anything, realer than anything. Pain. He bit his finger, making sure Ichigo would feel that, too.
"Taste that, aibou?" he asked, licking his lips as the cut on his throat healed. Everything healed, except for the wounds inflicted by his king. Scars on brittle bones, what a sight. He returned his hand to his body, this time his sharp nails raking from the hollow of his throat to his ribcage.
He didn't need to taste it again to know Ichigo had felt it, gushing, spilling, inside out. "Blood," King said. Something pulsed around the Hollow, and he cracked a grin as the darkness cleared slightly. Cracks. Yer shaking, King. We're shaking.
The wounds had already vanished but his hand remained on his chest, stroking different patterns, scratching hard, delicious, but this time avoiding biting into the skin. He didn't need to. Ichigo was broken, cracked enough to feel it now. The Hollow could picture him - in his bed, assaulted by countless echoes he couldn't see, sweating, writhing.
There was nothing Ichigo could have done to stop this, and they both knew he didn't really want to, either. The Hollow knew Ichigo took pleasure in this, he could feel it rolling off his skin. He laughed at the thought, cackling so Ichigo would know who he was dealing with, who shared his body. Ichigo took pleasure in that, too. Oh, the Hollow could use this newfound power over his king.
Just as the thought crossed his mind the crushing force returned to shove him back through the cracks - Ichigo was King for a reason, not weak enough to succumb completely - but the Hollow wouldn't relent, not this time.
Instead of grasping for the darkness, he grasped his body - drawing bloody lines around one nipple. The oppression stopped, Ichigo hesitated, and the Hollow knew he'd won that round. Power in pain, power in pleasure, amazing. He'd never considered going down this road with his prude of a king, but if it was working, hell if he'd stop.
He left the torn flesh for a moment to let it regenerate, and then returned to his nipple. He didn't waste time to tease it, to brush it. He knew how to handle their body, and he knew better than anyone how Ichigo handled it. He squeezed the stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger, tweaking and pulling, his cock already half-hard.
A wave crashed around him, but it wasn't suppressing, it was… coaxing. It was Ichigo sucking in quick breaths, it was Ichigo's arousal. It was their body. The Hollow let out a rumbling moan as he felt King's sweet control crumbling ever so slightly. Suddenly, he felt everything double - the quick breaths, the arousal, the heat. Their body encompassing his, two souls joined rather than trapped together.
He yelped with Ichigo when a second wave came - but it was tangible, an echo in the darkness, a stroke of something alike reiatsu over his own skin. No, not like reiatsu. Like a second consciousness. He realized it wasn't a wave at all; it was as focused and precise as a blade, only a million miles away. He only felt the whiplash of it - of pleasure.
Finally, his mind caught up. King's hand was on their nipple too, squeezing, harshly, a heavy second layer over the Hollow's deeds, the intense elicitations doubled. Fuck, this was excellent. He wondered how far he could push King.
His hand moved to the other nipple, while his second hand followed a distinctive path downwards on his body. Ichigo's hand remained where it was, and the Hollow couldn't help but groan unbidden at the sensation - a faraway yet powerful consciousness he couldn't see brushing against him, touching him while he did the same for Ichigo on the other sensitive bud.
Did it count as quid pro quo when they shared a body? The Hollow didn't know what they were playing at but he liked it in a way Ichigo would never allow himself to. Guess I'll show him.
His fingers dug a little harder into his skin as he proceeded moving downwards, over his ribs, his sides, his firm muscles. Ichigo's other hand followed his movements, and he could practically feel it, the hand itself along with the resulting jolt - just barely brushing the back of his own hand. If Ichigo kept cracking the Hollow would be able to see it, too - life flickering against impeccable white.
He arched slightly when the echo of Ichigo's hand left their nipple and moved up, over a sweaty collarbone, over his previously bleeding throat, and into his mouth - a steady yet ethereal force slipping between the Hollow's white lips. He played along and bit the finger, not at all surprised when a groan reverberated in the darkness.
He sank his nails into his skin again, slashing sharply over his stomach, his hipbones, shuddering at the delicious pain spreading, the blood, and the impact of Ichigo's growing lust. He was impatient already, and that affected the Hollow unbelievably.
He bit a little harder on the ghost of the finger in his mouth, and King's moan coursed through him, caressing him from the inside. Or was that what he had been doing to Ichigo? Maybe it really was quid pro quo, after all. He could both deliver pleasure and feel the reaction. It was glorious.
His cock twitched, and he could practically feel their cock doing the same. More cracks, more peepholes, the Hollow had never been this close. With every second, with every stroke and every wound he felt more of Ichigo, the echoes growing more dominant. It was driving him mad.
Never one to deny himself of anything, he wrapped his hand around his hard cock unhesitant. The first shock of pleasure at being touched there made him arch, but what really got him off was Ichigo's moan cutting through him, and the king's hand gripping their cock firmly. The dual sensation was… mesmerizing, like nothing he ever could experience before.
He thought, with some remorse, that if only the finger in his mouth was more than a ghost he would have bitten it off at that moment. Then his train of thought changed drastically when Ichigo added a second finger and started fucking the Hollow's mouth - and his own mouth, their mouth… Fuck.
The Hollow tightened his hold around the base of his cock and started pumping, Ichigo taking his cue from that. Trying to outdo him. Still all about power play, eh, aibou?
They moved together, the Hollow thrashing because of the slowly peaking pleasure and then reveling in Ichigo's pleasure. It enveloped him, fluttering yet not quite touching, a hair's breath away. Only, Ichigo's reactions were getting stronger, as were the echoes. His control was shaking for him to let the Hollow feel all that, now wasn't it?
He wondered for a moment if Ichigo too was feeling more than just echoes now, if the barrier was breached by that much. He was delighted to find that when his nails raked over his inner thigh the jolt that bounced back from their body was one of pleasured pain. Not bleeding on the outside yet, but it was a start.
It was no surprise his king liked the pain. The Hollow had been observing. Even when touching himself Ichigo was rough - biting on his fingers, littering his thighs with scratches, fisting his cock a little too hard, tugging a little too fast. It was no different now, and all of that doubled with the Hollow's own actions was rapidly driving him over the edge. Not to mention the Hollow wasn't afraid to draw a little blood.
What was really too much was when King's fingers ripped from his mouth and their ghost brushed over the Hollow's bloody thigh, and under it, and fuck - he felt them pushing inside him. It was completely surreal, like he had three hands, all of them moving at a frantic pace - the one on his cock losing its rhythm quickly, the one on his thigh beautifully stained with his own blood, and two fingers plundering inside himself - wrong and painful and amazing.
Moments flew by and they were both tumbling over the edge, the closer Ichigo had gotten to his peak the closer the Hollow had gotten to Ichigo, to their body - mirroring and echoing his own like a lover. Creeping, crawling closer to the light without even moving.
He knew Ichigo was going to come long before the strangled cry passed through his lips, before Ichigo's back arched nearly completely, and before he went rigid and shot load after load of come all over his stomach and chest. Still, nothing could have prepared him for the fucking bizarre sensation of feeling someone else's orgasm, like his core had exploded but the blast couldn't reach him, couldn't burn him to cinders.
Of course, it stopped being bizarre and became insanely brilliant when the Hollow came himself, practically screaming as both his ecstasy and his king's racked through his entire body, from his groin to his bloody fingers.
After the insanity had drained from his veins, he lay there, too worn out to make use of the tender situation (he always was too impulsive to carry out his most elaborate plans), still suffocating from shared sensations. Feelings. He lay there, and felt the darkness returning, total and warm. He felt a wave of disgust from King, felt the echoes disappear completely, every connection or breaches he'd made sealing up.
Next, Ichigo's force finally managed to push him out, back into their inner world, back to Zangetsu. And the Hollow let it, because now he knew how to drag Ichigo in through the same cracks, and keep him caged there. Just a little bit longer, and their body would become his.
END