Ichigo turns the faucet to hot in the shower, and quickly stumbles back to avoid getting sprayed in his clothes. God, he didn't realize how sore he was until now. He feels awful. He runs a hand through his hair as he listens to what his body is trying to tell him. It's so hard to ignore the stiffness of his hair from the blood of fallen Espada, but he manages anyway.
Peeling off blood soaked clothes is the most surreal feeling. As he kicks off his sandals and pulls off his socks, he gets lost in his thoughts. He doesn't how much longer he can do this. How much more killing will he have to do before he can save Rukia? Before he can't save himself?
There is movement caught in the corner of his eye. He glances over, sees a mirror, and his gut drops. What the fuck is he looking at? Is that supposed to be him? How did he not notice? He approaches his reflection like he's wary prey. The edges of the mirror are already fogging up, so he gives himself a fast once over. Oh god. Now he knows what Shiro truly meant by acceptance.
There's a gaping hole in his chest like Shiro's. Thick, bold markings cross over his chest from the Hollow hole and disappear behind his shoulders. He does an awkward turn to see where the marks go. Apparently right back to the Hollow hole from the back. His face has similar markings, but they're limited to a vertical line for an eye each going down his face. He rinses his hands of red, and moves his hair out of the way to see how far up the lines go. Only to his hairline from the looks of it.
What else is different about him? He doesn't have a mask fragment like the rest of the Arrancar. His eyes are yellow, but his sclera is still white. He doesn't have the long horns like Shiro. What about his teeth? He pulls out his lips, and gawks at his sharp teeth. They more or less look the same but with an added point. It's actually a little scary looking. His nails are also black. He couldn't see that when the blood was there. His hair is a little longer, too. Not a shit ton like Shiro's, but long enough to tie up.
How did Ichigo not notice this? He supposes he briefly felt the change before he entered his mindscape. The phantom pains of his dislocated joints are still here. What was that shit about? He'll probably figure it out later. Fuck, let's just take this shower first, he tells himself.
He steps into the shower again, this time in the nude, and closes the door behind him. As soon as the hot water hits him, dried and/or sticky blood begins to roll off of him with the rest of the water. He puts his hands out in front of him and leans on the wall under the shower head. The hot water burns into his entire back side from his head to ass.
Ichigo stays there for a while. Longer than intended, in fact. He comes out of his daze to reach for the shampoo. He scratches and claws through his hair, not so much to wash his hair, but to rid himself of the blood. So much blood. The loofa and body wash are next, and Ichigo scrubs violently at the disgusting feeling of murder across his skin. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, and yet he can still feel the blood cling to him like the strong odor of a corpse.
Monster. Monster. Monster. MonsterrRrrRRrrRrr...
He gives up. Maybe the feeling will go away. Maybe it won't. Who knows? Not him, that's for sure, but he's tired of trying to wash the blood off his hands. He's so fucking sick of the shit he has to do to get by. He needs to come up with a better plan because this isn't working. He's going to fall apart if he doesn't come up with something.
There's an urgent knock at the door. He sighs and shuts the water off. Great, now he has to tell his friends that Aizen fucked him up more than he already was. He's really not looking forward to that.
"Coming!" He calls.
His voice is still hoarse as shit. At least his body feels a little better after the shower. He cracks the glass door open and snatches a towel off the rack on the glass wall. He shakes the water out his hair with the towel before drying the rest of himself off. He steps out of the shower and onto the cold tile with the realization that he never grabbed clothes.
The ginger curses himself as he slowly opens the door to his room. There's no one here. He rushes over to the door to lock it, drops his towel, and explores his closet with more interest. It's as big as his room at the clinic. There's two dressers full of casual and sleep clothes and a body mirror in between them. On either side of the dressers are racks of clothing hanging up and lines of shoes underneath. He has to admit, this is nice. Unfortunately, everything is fucking white.
He pulls on some boxers he found in one dresser before continuing his search. The ginger has to fill in his group, but after that they have to go out into Hueco Mundo for new recruits. My first mission as the new Cero Espada, he thinks bitterly. He begins to dress into the uniform of a hakama and kimono. Socks and sandals are included, of course. He summons Zangetsu, and places the over sized blade on his back before heading downstairs.
Once Loly sees him, she marches right back into his room with a bin of cleaning supplies, muttering angrily about blood tracks. Oops, that's his bad. Oh well. It wasn't anything that could be helped.
He leaves the foyer as soon as he enters it, going through the doorway that leads somewhere else. It's an open room with a step down level for the sitting area. There are two options to go from there; the french doors ahead or the doorway in the corner. He pauses, titling his head to listen closely for the sound of people. Is his group here or was that Loly who knocked on the bathroom door earlier? He finally catches the familiar sound of Tatsuki shouting, and he follows it through the corner doorway.
It's a large, exaggerated, oval room. There's a cozy common area in the center and is surrounded by a series of evenly spaced doors. Eight doors to be exact. Menoly is gesturing to the name plates on each door as if they were offices in a company building. The girls apparently had their own rooms on the left side of the oval while the guys were on the right. There's one empty room in the back because, not including Ichigo, his group has seven members.
There's a collective gasp amongst his friends, snapping his attention back to them. Oh boy, they noticed him. Menoly shuffles to the background awkwardly as his friends slowly approach him. Their eyes are wide as they drink in his new appearance. Inoue even has tears welling up. Rukia looks close to losing her shit, too. Please don't start crying, he begs.
"Ichigo?" Tatsuki asks slowly, her expression more curious than anything. "What's going on? Why do you feel different?"
That's a weird way to phrase Reiatsu, but it's accurate. "It's... it's probably best you see for yourself."
"See what?" Uryū demands, his face contorted in pain. "What did they do to you?"
Ichigo takes a cleansing breath before pulling out the tucked kimono from his hakama. He mentally prepares himself for their next reactions, and then allows gravity to pull his kimono to the floor. The air feels thin. He can't breathe.
Rukia stumbles forward, her the first one to not look dead - ironically. Is it weird he just noticed her wounds are gone? Her skin is clear and her lip is whole. Then her fingertip gently touches his forehead. She drags the digit down his face and traces the markings to his chest. To his Hollow hole. Goosebumps trail after her finger, and if it weren't for her expression, he'd be blushing. Tears now brim her eyes. Chad glares at the floor, and Mizuiro and Keigo share an unsure yet sad look.
"This is my fault," Rukia whispers through a hushed voice. Her hand flattens on his chest. "This is all my fault."
Ichigo's eyebrows raise to his hairline. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"If I hadn't got caught... if I was stronger, you wouldn't be in this mess." She hangs her head.
"Hey!" He snaps, instantly catching her attention. His chest tightens at the sight of a tear slipping down her cheek. "None of this is your fault. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."
"How is this your fault? Aizen-" Uryū is abruptly interrupted.
"Aizen is doing what he believes is right. If that means turning me more Hollow than I am then so be it. The only thing that changed was Shiro's and my appearance," the ginger states sternly.
"Your vasto lorde looks different?" Mizuiro asks, mostly because he doesn't necessarily understand what's happening. By the looks of it, neither does Keigo and Tatsuki.
"These markings were his before today," he replies. "And I have a Hollow hole, but I don't feel any different."
"I'm sorry, but we're missing a very important factor to Ichigo's make over," Keigo starts dramatically.
Ichigo wants to roll his eyes and glare at the same time yet opts for neither. He goes to sarcastically reply to his squirrel-y friend, but is stopped by none other than Chad himself.
"His nails are black?" The Latino supplies.
"No-" Keigo is interrupted.
"He's more tan?" Mizuiro offers.
"No-"
"His eyes are yellow?" Tatsuki guesses.
"N-"
"His hair is longer?" Rukia suggests.
"What? No-"
"His muscles are bigger?" Inoue tries.
They all state at her for a moment and then Ichigo. He almost shies at their peering and squinting gazes.
"Huh, I guess they are," Uryū huffs in disbelief.
"No!" Keigo yells. "He's taller!"
Once again, they stare openly at the ginger. Ichigo stares right back because he has no fucking clue what the brunet is talking about. Uryū, him and Ichigo being the closest in height, walks up to him. They gawk at each in surprise. Ichigo is another eight centimeters taller than the Quincy at least.
"What the hell?" They say in sync.
"How did becoming more Hollow make you taller?" Uryū demands.
Ichigo thinks for a moment. "Shiro is about a hundred eighty... five centimeters tall so..."
"Yeah but how does that work?"
Something dawns on the ginger. "Ya know, during the whole process of basically changing my genetic make up, my joints kept popping out of place."
"What?" Rukia asks with wide eyes.
"Yeah! Hurt like a bitch, too. My body is aching."
"They popped out of place and you grew and turned into a demon," Tatsuki states.
"More or less. I wouldn't really call a Hollow a demon."
"Yo!" Keigo yells again. "Didn't that happen in Annabelle 2?"
"Yeah the demon in Annabelle grew out of her body!" Mizuiro recalls.
"And the joints kept popping and shit," Tatsuki adds.
The ginger leader deadpans. "I actually hate you."
They throw their heads back in a fit of laughter. It makes him feel better knowing they can get past this. Rukia, on the other hand, is who he's really worried about. She still has a hand on his chest. He flushes lightly, his ears burning. She hasn't seemed to notice how utterly crazy she makes him.
He sadly remembers Aizen's words, them having crept up on his mind like a hungry serpent looking for the kill. Somberly, he recalls what he did to three more Espada as well as his new title and mission. Rukia senses his change of attitude, and glances up at him in worry. She even steps closer to him, her hand riding up his chest a little more. The hair on the back of his neck stands.
"So, uh, now that everyone is settling in better, I have some news."
"What's wrong?" Rukia immediately asks.
"You know how when I went to talk to Shiro, the Vizard had to encase me because my body was running wild?"
There's a collective of yes and no, and he pushes forward. The small Shinigami in front of him watches him with her big, girlish eyes with concern. He forcefully pulls himself away from her eyes to explain the entire situation to them as accurately as possible all the while ignoring Menoly and Loly. Those two have to be Aizen's spies or something if they're still here.
"Hold on," Rukia starts. "Are you telling me you're the highest ranking Espada in Aizen's entire goddamn army?"
"... Yeah?"
"Jesus Christ."