A/N: Random Bleach fic because I had writers block and this got me out of my funk. So... yeah. RenIchi, woo. I don't own Bleach and all that good stuff. It belongs to Tite Kubo.

Hollow

Prologue:

"Don't touch me, don't look at me, and don't ever speak to me again!"

Those same haunting words had been racing through his mind ever since the incident with his lover.

It was only four days ago, but to Ichigo it had seemed as if it were years since they had talked. He let his bangs fall to his face, not caring about anything as he fell backwards on the grass, not changing his solemn expression.

Ichigo had been on Sokyoku hill then, staring out over the Seireitei to think about his situation. He missed him so much, so badly it hurt.

He missed his spiky red ponytail, the deep rumbling voice, his surprisingly gentle touch... Hell, he even missed the annoying bastard's never ending stream of obnoxious jokes.

He hadn't felt this way in a long time, for the only one close enough to compare to this feeling was his mother's death. She was the only one who understood him as a child. The only one that made him smile in the darkest depths of his despairs.

He sighed as he sat up, his clothes gently waving in the winds. It had taken him so long to realize his actual feelings about what happened. And now they were perfectly clear.

He felt broken. He felt lost, dead... Hollow. He let out a strained laugh at the thought.

"I am truly hollow now, I suppose."

The orange haired teen stood slowly, starting to pace the ledge of the cliff to his right. His friends were probably worried, but he didn't care.

He thought of Rukia and Rangiku. They had become like his sisters since he died. He couldn't let them see him in his current state. That's when he remembered.

When he arrived in Seireitei after his death in the living world, he had created his own personal training ground. No one but himself knew the location.

It was perfect.

With his mind made up, Ichigo smirked, pausing when he looked over and noticed the beautiful scene in the sky. A mesmerizing sunset light the night sky, as it is filled with hopes and dreams of others, wishing for good to come.

Ichigo watched the remaining colors as they slowly disappeared into the faraway trees.

"I'll be back, don't worry about me," he whispered before flash stepping toward his new destination, a new emotion building in his heart. He let out one final wave of reiatsu, releasing all of the pain and anger he had kept bottled up from his worries.

Renji yawned, already bored of this lame captain's meeting. The action earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs and a harsh glare from his own captain. He bowed his head in apology, opting to stare down at his shoes instead of listening to Old man Yamamoto's rambling.

He thought about the fight he had with Ichigo a few days before. He didn't even remember what the fight was about, but he regretted it. He had said some pretty hurtful things to the teen before breaking off a two year relationship... He hadn't seen the younger male since.

A sudden wave of reiatsu pushed them all to their knees. Pain, anger, and regret was conveyed in the unstable energy, crashing down on them mercilessly. As soon as it came, it was gone, leaving the captains to struggle to their feet.

"That was Kurosaki," Zaraki growled, his brows knitting in concern. He had come to see Ichigo as a son, training him instead of trying to kill him. It wasn't fair, in his opinion, that someone so young had to go through so much.

Renji felt a familiar tugging sensation in his gut, one that always appeared when he was worried about the orangette.

"Find Kurosaki," the commander barked, completely forgetting his previous train of thought. As if the leaders already heard this seconds before, they were already on their way out of the door. The last captain bowing in respect before he himself dashed out of the door, leaving the room in silence.

They searched for days, even going into the world of the living when they found no trace of the boy in seireitei. They gave up the search after three weeks, mourning the loss of a powerful comrade. Little did they know, the teen was right beneath their noses, training to forget the pain he felt inside.