Title: Cracked

Pairing: HichixIchi

Rating: T

Disclaimer: No.

Summary: Mild HichixIchi. After the war, Ichigo had to admit that the happily ever after wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

A/N: Ichi's a little cracked in this, the poor boy is insaaaaane!

Spur of the moment! I had a free lesson in ICT so this was written under forty minutes. Hope y'all enjoy despite the fact that I pulled it outta my ass with the intention of only writing the last line in this.

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"Everyone's looking at me,
I'm running around in circles, baby,
a quiet desperation's building higher,
I've got to remember this is just a game!"

-- It's a Beautiful Lie, 30 Seconds to Mars

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CRACKED

After the war, it supposed to be a happily ever after.

Supposed to be.

Ichigo went to school. He got good grades. He lived a normal life.

He hated it.

Phantom images, wispy and intangible, breezed past his dulled bronze eyes, superimposing the people around him as the Shinigami who fell, their blood spattering and colouring the ground as Hollows and Arrancar howled in triumph, their false god smiling benevolently as he raised his sw-

But no, he couldn't delve in those memories. Too long and he knows he's back there, somehow, not in the classroom, the bus, at home, the street, no, he'd back on that hellish plain with those dead around him, accusing him with their blank eyes, mouths parted in silent pleas of, 'why didn't you save us'. He couldn't go back, once was enough.

He took in the smiling people, their memories wiped of the apocalyptic crisis, how they went about their daily lives, worrying about if they've paid the bills, or turned the oven off before they left, or other stupid meaningless things. People wonder why he's angry all the time. He wonders why people are stupid, selfish creatures.

When surprised, his body jerks, ingrained instincts telling him to eliminate threat, eliminate chance of death; you must survive (survivesurvivesurvivewannalive!) and keep fighting. But he always caught it at the last minute, turning the half completed attack into a quirky gesture.

He couldn't live normally. He was born amidst fighting, he spent a year or two learning how to kill a myriad of Hollows and Arrancar, planning how to infiltrate Heuco Mundo without detection, freezing his heart as the body count rose and the assembly of friends in the war room diminished until a scant few with hollowed eyes and weary, razor smiles remained.

Yamamoto lived, which was a shame in Ichigo's opinion.

But worse of all, was the whispering reminder of his quest for power, the distorted bubbling voice purring how weak Shinigami were, how stretch thin their forces were, how the Hollows were lost without a leader, how he could capitalize on that. Wouldn't ruling the world be fun? The voice whispered. Wouldn't crushing their souls into the ground, making them feel his pain and anguish be so satisfying? He ignored the whispers as he did, paying a visit to the last two Vizards from the war. They didn't say why they stuck around, but they did and Ichigo was grateful.

He may get hit by a sandal when meeting them, but at least he could use Shinji as a shield and have a sense of familiarity.

These little things kept him sane, kept the whisper just that, a gentle sigh in his mindscape and he trudged on with his life. With his normal, danger-free life. Urahara did drop in occasionally to try and stab in the back with Benihime, but it wasn't enough to sate the adrenaline junkie he had become. He never asked why Urahara did that, and Urahara never offered an explanation, picking himself off the ground from a failed attack and winking a mercurial grey eye at him with that enigmatic grin. He guessed that blow to the head in the final battle made the blond's already wired brain more haywire.

Happily ever after? Feh.

He just jumped from one Hell into another, except killing an egotistical psychopath isn't the key to getting out. This one was inescapable, a claustrophobic prison of normalcy. Maybe this was how those soldiers felt when they came back from the world wars, seeing how blissfully happy the civilians were and wondering; how could they be like this? Was ignorance really that powerful? Their beautiful lie of an artificial paradise? A flawed one filled with bills and selfish politicians, but a paradise nevertheless.

The whisper was back, louder then before and ice cold fingers digging into his chest, clenching tightly round his heart as it pounded a rapid beat like a trapped hummingbird. Whispering how it could reject a paradise like this, touch the water, touch the ambrosia, eat the forbidden fruit and join me, please? Listen to the serpent as man had before, the price was high but the benefits were worth it.

He wished Urahara would do a surprise attack soon.

Cold fingers crushed his heart, golden black eyes of oblivion staring contemptuously at the milling cattle going about their lives. Normalcy? Peace? Who wants that? Sharp teeth bit his ear, numbness seeping into his bones and infecting his muscles as the world started again, warmth flaring up and the burning supernova vanishing with the whisper.

Ichigo turned to a call of his name, raising a hand in greeting to the human friends that survived the merciless slaughter. He wanted peace, so it's just as well that he should relish in that fact. He won, but he lost. He should be content. He shouldn't be wishing for another war…right? Or is it that distorted whisper again?

Fuck it. He didn't want another war. He ignored the mocking laughter, cold fingers slashing at his mind. He was going to live out his life, die, become a full Shinigami and make sure nothing like the winter war happened ever again. Nothing was going to deviate him from his path. Nothing. A new life, that's what it was, a second chance.

He could have a second chance, right!? He deserved it!

Mocking laughter degraded into maniacal giggles, a soft coo brushing his ear and a cold, freezing body pressing against him, poisonous lips kissing his forehead with tainted chasteness.

Not for the first time in his life, as his human friends babbled nonsense to each other, Ichigo wondered if it would be worth it to throw himself under the wheels of the incoming truck.

"We can rule the world, you and I, give me the chance and I'll give you a real crown."

Ichigo thought that the whispers would still be there, crushed under a truck or not. Besides…

He always wanted to wear a real crown.

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A/N: ¬.¬

Eh, spur of the moment shit, how Ichigo's mentality would be after the winter war with Aizen. Hope I captured it well, and if it looked like his thoughts were a little jumpy, they were supposed to be like that. He's slightly cracked.

And so is Urahara, the blow to the head made all those loose screws completely lost. :D

Hope y'all enjoyed!