Here's my first Bleach fanfic! I hope you enjoy! I just really had to write one and i love torturing my characters.. And Shiro is so torturable.. Hehe. Review if you'd like! Xo ~arien

"Just one more bite Toshiro."

He dropped his fork abruptly, the unused metal scraping harshly against the ceramic plate. His father's words tore through him. Those four words stood out against the blackness of his mind like a billboard or neon lettering. He couldn't eat anymore. He just couldn't. He promised his mother he wouldn't overeat and become fat; he promised that he would make her proud.

"I'm full." He stated coldly. It was no use, like always his father had to be so damn stubborn.

"But Toshiro," His dad gave a warm smile. "You've barely eaten a thing. You can't keep giving your food to Hyorinmaru, he'll get fat."

Better him than me. Toshiro stared at the blue-striped tabby with disgust. He was lounging haphazardly on the couch. Hyorinmaru was so lazy; he needs to let him out more.

"Toshiro."

He turned his head at his father's suddenly serious tone.

"Yeah?"

"You need to eat. That's an order."

Toshiro blinked and stared down at his meal. He was having cooked duck with a side of fried rice. The only thing that was appetizing about the meal was the water. Water was healthy, it helped you get into shape and boost your immune system.

"I told you I'm not hungry. I had a snack earlier."

That was a lie. Toshiro couldn't think of the last time he'd eaten a full meal. He had a few slices of bread a few days back but that was about it. It's not like he hasn't eaten since then, he had a few crackers and nibbled on cheese every now and again. He just wasn't much of an eater. His dad was always teasing him about his height. He'd say "If you don't eat your vegetables you won't grow up to be big and strong." Toshiro would always scowl at him. He wasn't four. He turned thirteen in December.

"Toshiro, high school starts in two days. And since you skipped a few grades you're already going to be much smaller than everyone in your class. If you walk in there looking like a skeleton you're bound to get made fun of." He stabbed a piece of duck and stuffed it into his mouth.

Toshiro slanted his ultramarine eyes at his father. "You know I don't care what other people's opinions are, and frankly, it's none of my business. I'm there to get an education, not get people to fall in love with me."

His dad raised an eyebrow but continued on. He was growing into such a bratty teenager. He smiled. It was normal to be concerned about body image at this age; he assumed it was just a phase. Toshiro was strong and he knew that. He just didn't know why he was eating so little. He would understand a diet, but it seemed his boy was going on one calorie a day.

Toshiro kept telling lies today. He would kill himself before he admitted it, but he was very conscious of other people's impressions of him. Hell that was the damn root of all his problems. He liked to make people happy.

He wasn't very good at it.

Toshiro shook the depressing thoughts away and pushed his chair out. Before he could get up his father interrupted him.

"Not so fast young man. You can't leave until you've eaten everything on your plate."

He blinked. Was he crazy? He'd never made him eat before…

"It's okay dad, I'm really not hungry-"

"Nope. You start school tomorrow; I don't want you to look like we can't afford to feed you."

He glared at his dad for what seemed like hours. His expression didn't falter. He didn't know why he was so concerned; he'll have an energy bar or something in the morning. He took a deep breath.

"Really dad, I'm fine. I have a lot of packing to do for tomorrow and I'd like to get a head start."

His father turned his head as if to get a better look at himself. He watched his dad's eyes rake him up and down.

"Please." It came out almost as a whisper, he was pleading. He didn't have time for this now.

His father sighed, "Fine. But you have to finish your duck."

"But dad!" Toshiro whined. He really needed to start acting his age.

"No buts. You really are looking skinny, Toshiro."

His dad looked worried. He didn't like seeing him worried. He bit his lip and clenched his fists under the table. He could do it this once. A few little bites wouldn't hurt. Duck wasn't even that fatty, right?

He picked up his forked and speared a few pieces of meat at once. He brought the fork to his mouth and held it there. It looked disgusting, toxic. He didn't want to be near it. His stomach cringed just by looking at it.

"I'm waiting."

He glanced at his dad out of the corner of his eye. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He already felt full. His hand started shaking. He couldn't eat it, it was gross. He'll get sick. He'll get fat. He'll get fat.

Toshiro closed his eyes and all at once he shoved the chunky substance into his mouth. He gagged. It tasted sticky, hot. It wasn't appetizing at all. The smell of cooked meat filled his nose. He wanted to throw up, but he pushed down his fear and swallowed. Everything stopped at once. Time froze. It was just him and his thoughts. He broke his promise, he felt dirty, repulsive. He needed a shower.

"Umm… I really didn't think it was that bad… I guess I won't make it again." His dad let out a string of nervous laughter.

Toshiro was still shaking. He felt hot; cold sweat was covering his forehead. He was gonna die, that's what it felt like at that moment. He made his voice as stable as he could.

"Can I be excused now?"

His father nodded silently and Toshiro disappeared down the hall.

He climbed the stairs quickly and disappeared into the bathroom. Once inside he locked the door and flicked the light on. He had to blink a few times to get himself adjusted to the pale lavender glow. He started at himself in the mirror, his white, silver hair was matted down with sweat; his eyes were hollow and had bags under them. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, it was probably due to the nightmares he had every night.

His fingers were trembling as he held onto the sink. His knuckles were turning white. He had to get that stuff out of him; he could already feel the meat pool in his stomach.

He eyed his blue toothbrush that was placed in the holder on the edge of the sink. He'd done this before. Actually, it was such a common occurrence that he had bought a couple of disposable toothbrushes and stored them under the sink. He hesitantly picked his toothbrush up. He'd failed, he really had. He didn't plan to need to do this so soon already.

Shaking off his thoughts he brought the toothbrush up to his mouth. Quickly, he shoved the plastic end against the back of his throat.

Toshiro felt the bile coming up rapidly and heaved what little dinner he ate into the once pearly white bowl. It stung, his throat burned. He gagged and coughed heavily, the sounds of his self-induced torture echoing against the bathroom walls.

He choked as his breathing started to even out. He felt more of the vomit start to regurgitate and he steeled himself against the wall. If he puked anymore he felt like he would die. His mouth still felt like it was on fire. He disposed of his toothbrush and reached for a fresh one. He carefully painted the toothpaste and started brushing his teeth.

After a fourth attempt the mint started to overtake the stench in his mouth. He let a relieved breath out and started to undress for a shower.

"Toshiro! Are you ok? I heard you choking!"

"Y-yeah dad I'm fine! Some air just went down the wrong pipe!"

"Alright," he could hear his dad's apprehensiveness, "Just… call me if you need anything."

He heard his father's retreating footsteps and let out another sigh of relief. He came too close to being discovered tonight. He quickly turned on the shower and stepped inside. He felt his body shake with pleasure as the warm spray washed over him. It wiped away the filth and secrets from his body. It took a while for him to relax but within minutes of the therapeutic shower he was already feeling rejuvenated. He forgot all about the dinner incident and focused on getting clean.

After scrubbing himself down he shut off the water and stepped out the shower mat. It was fuzzy and the tufts of carpet squished between his toes. He grabbed a towel and made his way towards his room.

He flicked on the light and stepped in. He raked his eyes around his space and allowed himself to smile a little. The walls were painted an icy blue, along with white carpet. Sea-like furniture and memorabilia was placed along the walls and floor. He had a lamp modeled as a lighthouse shining light on all his necessary school forms. As he walked inside he kicked a plushy pillow embroidered with a black anchor. Toshiro had always enjoyed the beach. He went once as a child. He loved the soft sand underneath his feet, and the salty smell of the ocean. It was like his second home. He'd been asking his dad to take him back whenever he got a school holiday. He always said he'll think about it. He never let go of that hope.

With a creak he opened his wardrobe and pulled out some pajamas. He stepped into soft blue sweatpants and tugged on a simple white t-shirt. With a flop he fell back onto his bed, immediately sighing against the puffy white comforter. He glanced over to his bedside table. He picked up a white and red striped pamphlet that red "Karakura High Swim & Dive Team". Toshiro had to make it in. It was his mother's dying wish. To succeed. He knew the captains and coach would be put off by his age and height but he was an experienced swimmer. He'd been on swim teams ever since grade school. He was a natural.

By the time he finished going over everything about the times to meet after school and all the dues it was nearing eleven pm. Toshiro yawned. He needed to start getting his bedtime back on track after the late nights and mornings of the summer. He shut off his light and wrapped the covers around him. Apparently he was more drained than he thought; he slipped away into unconsciousness in minutes.

Toshiro jumped off the bus. It was late afternoon, the bees were buzzing and the sun was shining. It was such a picturesque day. He couldn't wait to get home and show his mother the amazing grade he made on his math exam.

He walked up to his home and knocked on the door enthusiastically. He couldn't stop smiling today, he was uncharacteristically happy. It was just another grade.

Deep down in his mind he knew it wasn't though. His mom was always pestering him about being a stronger person and getting better at academics. He'd never worked so hard for a simple test. From the moment he'd entered third grade he had many homework assignments thrust upon him. Never anything too difficult, he completed them by himself every day. His dad was always away on work and whenever he asked his mother for help she'd always scold him for being too reliant on other people. He was so stupid sometimes. This work was easy, there was no reason to ask for help.

He waited a few more minutes and the door never opened. His mom wasn't standing in the foyer with her crisp business suit and briefcase in hand. Tsumetai Hitsugaya was a big-shot lawyer in Tokyo. She worked so hard at her job and Toshiro always admired her for it.

He sighed, his breath blowing a strand of snow white hair out of his face. His mother was never this late. He tested the doorknob to see if it was open. To his surprise it was. He stepped tentatively inside. The living room and kitchen were clean, cleaner than this morning. Toshiro could see his reflection in the freshly polished hardwood. He quirked an eyebrow. Are some more of mother's important clients coming over?

"Mom! I'm home! I got an amazing score on a test today!"

No response. He waited. And waited. It was unlike his mom to not answer when he yelled in the house. Normally she'd scold him for not using his inside voice. She'd probably tell him he was too stupid to remember the rules again. He had to prove her wrong.

He trekked up the stairs running his hand along the ebony banister. It squeaked under his fingertips. He decided to drop his book bag off in his room before going to his mom's quarters. He gave the door a light shove and threw his bag inside.

Still. No scolding.

He started to worry. Maybe his mother wasn't home. Sometimes she had stuff to do in Tokyo. But she would've gotten a sitter, she never trusted him alone. The sound of coughing filled the air.

Toshiro froze.

Coughing? Was someone in the house?

What if it wasn't mommy?

He started to panic. There could've been burglars in his house and all his yelling would've surely gotten their attention. Why was he so stupid? He slowly crept out of his room, his hands shaking.

He'd never been so scared before. He didn't know what to do. He just wasn't smart enough. He should've stayed after school to collect his other grades, his mother would've been happier with that anyway. He was just in such a hurry to get home. He was blinded by his excitement.

The walls of his house suddenly seemed to expand. The corridors grew large and menacing, as if they were about to swallow him whole. He followed the sound of the spitting towards his mother's room. His eyes widened. What if they were torturing her? Or hurting her?

He swallowed his tears back. He needed to be strong, his mother was always complaining about how much of a baby he was. He was about to hyperventilate. He'd always had trouble under pressure. Whenever he was pushed his heart started pumping too much blood and he started to feel lightheaded, but still he gathered his strength and pushed the door open. The door strained and creaked with every shove. He finally swung it against the wall and let out a breath. His mom was there. She was safe.

"Toshiro?"

He blinked. His eyes widened to saucers.

When she turned to him her face wasn't the face of his mother, it was the face of a demon. Her cheeks were hollowed out and wrinkled. Her eyes were rimmed red and the iris was shot open. Her suit was still intact but hanging limply off her shoulders. She lost weight. A ton. She gave him a grin.

"Toshiro, come here." She beckoned him forward. He couldn't say no to his mother. She was his anchor, his lifeline. He stepped forward, baby steps. The hand she held out to him was shaking. Toshiro could even make out each individual bone prodding at her pale skin, as if it was trying to break free.

"Y-yes mommy?" Toshiro flinched. He'd been trying to call her 'mother'. Whenever he got scared he regressed to baby names. His mother hated it.

She frowned but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

"You've failed me."

What?

Toshiro's knees went weak. His mommy couldn't think this. He's tried so hard!

"No mommy it's okay!" He reached into his pants pocket. "I made a really good score on this test and I wanted you to see it-"

She snatched the test out of his hand and crumpled it. She ripped it into so many pieces. Toshiro couldn't count. With each shred it felt like his heart was being crushed. The pain. It was so intense.

"It doesn't matter. You were too late."

He blinked. "Late? Late for what?"

His mother gave another grin. "You ruined me." His mother took a knee and placed a cold hand on his shoulder. Toshiro had always liked the cold; he was more comfortable with it than most kids. He enjoyed winter and Christmas holidays. He loved the snow. But this… Her hand was like dry ice. It burned through his shirt. He'd hope he wouldn't have to get used to it.

"I- I'm sorry!" He didn't know what he was saying he just didn't want his mother to be mad at him anymore. He tried so hard.

She brought a finger to his cheek and wiped away tears. He hadn't even realized he'd been crying. He was so weak.

"You failed me, Toshiro. No matter how much I scold you, how much I beat you… You can never stay strong!"

He was stunned by his mother's outburst. She seemed to visibly calm down and spoke in a much softer tone. "But that's alright now."

Toshiro was confused. "Why?"

"Because I have these." She pulled her left hand from behind her back. Shining with the dim light was a multitude of multi colored pills. The colors popped. They looked like candies.

"Candy? Can I have some?"

A loud laugh poured out of his mother's mouth. "Maybe later. I want you to suffer for a while."

Suffer?

Without warning his mother hacked up a mouthful of blood. It was like a slow motion film. Toshiro could see each sparkling individual drop of crimson blood rocket out from his mother and splatter onto his own face. It was warm. It felt like the blood was breathing. The liquid dripped down and stained his clothing like a poison.

He was terrified.

"M-mom?"

Her hand was limp. She fell onto her son. Her lifeless body slammed Toshiro against the floor. He was crying so hard, whether from the shock of his mother not moving or being forced to stare into his mother's soulless face he couldn't tell. What he did know is that was the beginning of hell for him. The rising of the torrent of pain that would forever drown him.