Shiro's reaming had been short, but violent, and most of the healing process passed in silence.
Painful, cold silence. And even then, the Hollow didn't heal Ichigo completely. The nose, the rib, the broken bits were all mended. But Shiro left some of the bruises and more minor injuries, and didn't even lick up the blood like he usually did. No, Ichigo, you'd have to get rid of that blood yourself.
Then he'd taken his sword and left Rukia to chew him out. Ichigo obviously didn't care to listen to anything Shiro said. Maybe Rukia would have more luck. But even as Shiro destroyed trees, and uninhabited buildings, he could listen in on their "conversation". More like both of them yelling at eachother and not really hearing. Of course. That stubborn pig.
But then the thoughts stopped. Ichigo was keeping things from him on purpose.
Fine. Let him. Shiro returned the favor. He wanted silence? He'd get it. Nothing. Nothing but a vague burning rage, directionless and dark.
Three empty buildings fell to the Hollow's wrath, covering the dragon in dust and debris that he didn't bother to shake off. Slumping into the building wordlessly, he strips out of his dusty clothes and pulls on a pair of pajamas, throwing the bundle of dirty clothes out into the store. But once he's done with that? He takes one of the blankets (his blanket, a soft sherpa in blue) and leaves the cubicle.
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Date: 2012-03-04 06:44 am (UTC)Painful, cold silence. And even then, the Hollow didn't heal Ichigo completely. The nose, the rib, the broken bits were all mended. But Shiro left some of the bruises and more minor injuries, and didn't even lick up the blood like he usually did. No, Ichigo, you'd have to get rid of that blood yourself.
Then he'd taken his sword and left Rukia to chew him out. Ichigo obviously didn't care to listen to anything Shiro said. Maybe Rukia would have more luck. But even as Shiro destroyed trees, and uninhabited buildings, he could listen in on their "conversation". More like both of them yelling at eachother and not really hearing. Of course. That stubborn pig.
But then the thoughts stopped. Ichigo was keeping things from him on purpose.
Fine. Let him. Shiro returned the favor. He wanted silence? He'd get it. Nothing. Nothing but a vague burning rage, directionless and dark.
Three empty buildings fell to the Hollow's wrath, covering the dragon in dust and debris that he didn't bother to shake off. Slumping into the building wordlessly, he strips out of his dusty clothes and pulls on a pair of pajamas, throwing the bundle of dirty clothes out into the store. But once he's done with that? He takes one of the blankets (his blanket, a soft sherpa in blue) and leaves the cubicle.
You can sleep alone, Ichigo.