A/N: The beginning of this story is what gets it the "comedy" tag. The second half is far more serious, I think.

Eternal Hostility Against Tyranny

Washington DC, Ichigo decided, was the coolest city he had ever been to.

The Winter War had ended like a fairy tale. The only reason it had ended, actually, was not because Aizen had died, but because he had simply disappeared. There were no more sightings of the traitor in any of the three dimensions, and no abnormal hollow activity was reported by the Shinigami scouts in Hueco Muendo. Aizen, apparently, had disappeared into thin air. Ukitake didn't buy it. "Aizen's like tuberculosis," he said. "You think that you've rid yourself of him for all eternity, but then he just keeps coming back and then you start coughing blood uncontrollably."

Shunsui took that moment to point out to his friend that when Aizen showed up, the Shinigami didn't begin to cough blood. The 13th Division Captain just shrugged, and drank some tea.

And so, to mark the end of the Winter War and the beginning of a new era of peace (Hitsugaya groaned at the cliché), Rangiku decided to celebrate by taking (dragging) her fellow comrades on an international trip of drinking various exotic alcoholic beverages and waking up the following morning with a raging hangover.

Paris and Rome made it far too easy for her to accomplish her goal of getting drunk as quickly as possible, and staying drunk for as long as possible. Hitsugaya hated both European cities. It was too damn hot, and there were too many fancy restaurants serving fine wine for Rangiku to exploit.

Of course, Shinigami let loose, especially drunken Shinigami, tended to cause problems. A small boy had tried to pickpocket Kenpachi in a Roman subway. Kenpachi, Ikkaku, Yumichika, and Yachiru had to run very fast to lose the authorities, enraged at the new human-shaped hole in their subway.

Soifon enjoyed Moscow very much. In a rather surprising contrast to her stoic nature (most likely born from a combination of alcohol and a desire to impress her beloved Yoruichi), she took great pleasure in tapping KGB snipers on the shoulder and then shunpoing out of the confused soldier's view.

Ichigo, for the most part, had just tagged along with the various drunken captains and vice captains in their cross country drinking binge. He was obviously underage, and as such, he couldn't drink. Ichigo thanked whatever Gods there were that he was unable to participate in Rangiku's sheer madness.

The Shinigami often had to go four to a room, though there were only two beds to a room. Ichigo's roommates were Kenpachi, Hitsugaya, and Renji. Ichigo and Hitsugaya, upon learning of Kenpachi's presence in their room, immediately chose each other as their bunk partners, abandoning Renji to Kenpachi. The vice captain, then a rather interesting shade of green, deigned to sleep on the ground. Hitsugaya slept relatively deeply, and best of all, he was rather small (diminutive, but Ichigo wouldn't say that to the captain's face), so Ichigo could take most of the blankets.

Ichigo's didn't have many interests besides Shakespeare and beating the shit out of any hollow who messed with him, his family, or his friends. Rome's towering churches and Athens' magnificent ancient ruins, however, sparked a new fascination with classical architecture in him.

And so, when the Shinigami gang arrived in Washington, Ichigo was stunned. Washington was filled was classical architecture, but instead of temples to Greek or Roman gods, Washington's buildings were temples to the founding fathers of America. To Ichigo, Washington was the best city they had visited yet. To Rangiku, it was horrible. There were not enough bars.

Because they had another day until their flight to Amsterdam (when Ichigo informed Hitsugaya about the infamous Red Light District, the captain immediately paled, and asked Ichigo where the nearest drugstore was), Matsumoto decided to take out her secret stash of sake (Ichigo just didn't want to know) and have a drinking party right there in the hotel. Not surprisingly, Ichigo opted out of the inevitable madness.

Washington's cherry blossoms were in bloom this time of year, and Ichigo appreciated their splendor greatly. They reminded him of Japan- a bit of his home country in America.

Eventually, after walking through America's capitol, Ichigo found himself at the Jefferson Memorial. "It's almost a replica of the Pantheon," he muttered to himself as he walked inside.

The enormous bronze statue of Jefferson in the center of the round room immediately caught Ichigo's attention. Ichigo had never been very interested by American history, but even the average Japanese high school student had heard of the famous American who had written the Constitution. Or was it the Declaration? Ichigo wasn't very sure. (A/N: It's the Declaration. I'm not an idiot.)

There were no walls surrounding the statue, only pillars. Occasionally, the space between the pillars would be filled up and a quotation would be inscribed on the marble. Ichigo quickly scanned the quotations on the wall, but he was more interested in the ceiling- exactly like the Pantheon's, except for the missing oculus.

Dodging the massive crowds of what seemed to be 8th grade American students on a field trip, Ichigo finally managed to reach a corner of the memorial that wasn't filled with girls, garbed in designer clothing and giggling hysterically while taking pictures with the gargantuan bronze statue. He doubted that any of them really cared about the meaning of the magnificent monument.

"Only in America," Ichigo muttered.

Finally, his gaze wandered to the quotation inscribed on the rim of the ceiling. This one caught Ichigo's attention. Years of reading Shakespeare had made his fluent in English, and he easily read the inscription.

"I have sworn upon the altar of God," he read to himself, "eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man."

Ichigo didn't think much about what he had read. When he arrived back at the hotel, he flopped back down on his bed and fell asleep.

Ichigo's hollow grumbled. "Eternal hostility against every form of tyranny," he muttered.

Zangetsu appeared beside the hollow. "What's wrong?" he asked. It was Zangetsu's business to know what was bothering the other inhabitants of Ichigo's soul.

Ichgio's hollow remained silent. Zangetsu had expected this- he had spent almost a year trapped inside Ichigo's soul with the hollow, and he had grown to know him. The hollow was rather cagey- and when something bothered him, he would usually shut up for a day, and then be back to normal. But it also rained when he was upset, and Zangetsu hated rain.

"You think the American thought that hollows could be human also?" the hollow asked. Then he chuckled. "Hell, the American didn't even know hollows existed!"

The hollow stopped laughing as a shadow passed over his face again. "This Jefferson guy knew that slavery was wrong," he said. "I know a lot more about this country than Ichigo, and more people besides Jefferson knew it also."

Zangetsu raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"It's funny how Ichigo never notices things when he's asleep, and how humans always pass things off as 'sleepwalking'."

Zangetsu smiled to himself. "Of course."

The hollow chuckled lightly. "America's 16th President saw a war over this mess coming," he said, his eyes hardening. "I'm may be a hollow, but I have a soul, and I'm being kept in this cage for no reason at all!" he shouted angrily.

"Calm down," Zangetsu said, trying to stop the hollow from going overboard.

The hollow exhaled heavily. "I've been calming myself down from the moment I was born, Zangetsu."

Zangetsu cleared his throat, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlight in Ichigo's soul. "You certainly have exhibited a rather rebellious streak."

The hollow snorted. "You're a Zanpakuto, Zangetsu," he said, laughing loudly. "You're made to be a slave to the Shinigami. It's a wonder why you swords haven't rebelled already."

Zangetsu remained silent, and even the hollow couldn't see his eyes narrow behind his tinted sunglasses.

Silently, the hollow laid himself down on a skyscraper. He opened his eyes and just stared at the clouds overhead. "Just look at them, Zangetsu," he said. "Ichigo and all his Shinigami buddies are out there acting like the world's one big fucking sake party. After they've achieved Bankai, after they've got all of their Zanpakuto's secrets out, do they ever give as much as five minutes of thought to their swords? No! Has Ichigo ever thought of me as an actual person that deserved a bit of compassion? No!"

The hollow turned his head to look at the old man. " Ichigo's never cared about our freedom, Zangetsu. He's never going to show 'eternal hostility against tyranny,' like Jefferson did. He isn't that good of a person. Jefferson wanted to give everyone "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!" All Ichigo gives us is some messed up world where skyscrapers point the wrong fucking way, and the only reason we exist is so he can use us!"

Ichigo's hollow turned his head again, looking back at the sky. "I don't know or care about you, Zangetsu, but one day I'm going to get out of here."