He remembers a very concerned, tattooed face leaning over him. Renji.
He remembers a second set of hands working feverishly on the straps binding him to the table while cursing quietly. Uryū.
He remembers looking over his left shoulder as he lay there, realizing that there were three men fighting. Before his eyes, Byakuya's Senbonzakura Kageyoshi skewered Mayuri's Bankai Konjiki Ashisogi Jizō . He remembers thinking there really wasn't enough room in such a small space to contain the two.
He remembers Ukitake, his white hair swirling as he brought his twin zanpakuto to bear upon the scientist himself. He remembers wondering why the soft-spoken captain of the 13th squad looked so mad .
He remembers Renji and Uryū helping him off the table and how his legs had been suffering a severe case of pins-and-needles. He remembers looking at the door and wondering how they were going to get out, because Chad and Orihime had been blocking it, holding off 12th squad members trying to come to their captain's aid.
He remembers Shunsei showing up and thinking about how very scary the womanizer appeared when he wore such a murderous look. He remembers thinking that something important was missing and they couldn't leave yet. ...Then everything is black.
Here and now, Ichigo is lying on a futon, looking up at a familiar ceiling. A quick glance around confirms that he's in the recovery room at the Urahara shotan. He's just not sure why. He feels tired and maybe a little weak, but he doesn't hurt anywhere.
Well, at least he doesn't have Tessai lying on top of him this time. That's got to be worth something. But he also isn't surrounded by Orihime's healing Shun Shun Rikka, nor is there anyone chanting healing kido over him. In fact, he's very much alone in the sparsely-furnished room.
Sighing, the orange-haired teen moves his arms out from under the blanket someone has thoughtfully covered him with. He flexes his hands as he holds them before his face, trying to figure out what's happened. The things he remembers are clipped and disjointed. It's entirely possible that they have been a dream. But if that's the case, then he's left still having no idea why he's here and not in his room at home.
Ichigo really hates not knowing what's going on, for all that it seems to be a constant feature of his life.
Deciding that his hands are fine, he pushes the blanket off and looks around. He's in his shinigami garb, without so much as a thread out of place, let alone any injuries to be seen. So, what the hell?
No sooner does he sit up on the futon, than the sliding door is cracks open, just enough to show an kneeling Urahara, who smiles at him with his customary goofy grin. Then the fan comes up to hide the shopkeeper's face. "Ah! You're awake! How are you feeling, Ichigo?" the man enquires with that annoying sing-song voice of his. It grates on Ichigo's nerves, mostly because past experience tells him the bastard is probably aware of all kinds of things, which he has no intention of revealing.
"Confused," the teen says honestly. "Why am I here?" He waves an arm around the room, which contains nothing more than a futon and a chest in the corner.
The shopkeeper's voice grows dark and serious, and there is something about the eyes half-hidden by the brim of his hat that puts Ichigo immediately on edge. "What do you remember?"
Ichigo grits his teeth. He's really not in any mood for the man's games. "Nothing that makes sense. So spit it out! What the hell is going on?!" As his anger flares, he's ready to push Shiro down—doing so being second nature—but his hollow is oddly quiet. Huh.
The shopkeeper sighs and snaps the fan closed. He looks down so that the hat hides his expression. "Do you remember Mayuri asking you to allow him to draw a blood sample?"
Ichigo gives a slow, cautious nod. The captain of the 12th squad had been making that request for three weeks, often multiple times a day, either in person or via a squad member. It hadn't mattered whether Ichigo was in Soul Society, the Living World, or Huaco Mundo. The guy had just kept coming.
So yesterday, he'd agreed. After all it was just a blood test and Ichigo wasn't afraid of needles. But. He frowns. He remembers entering offices of the 12th... and very little else. Those memories just aren't there.
Urahara is nodding, as he sees Ichigo working through it for himself.
"What did he do?" The teen asks in a disbelieving whisper, looking down at his lap. This can't possibly be real. His stomach is a cold thing and he feels like he wants to be ill. Mayuri is one of those people that Ichigo has always disliked and distrusted. However, as a Soul Society Captain, he was also a person the teen needed to deal with. And as a captain, he was bound by rules... or so the theory went.
Why had he been fool enough to believe it would only be a stupid blood test?!
Taking a steadying breath he tries to pull himself together. He's not injured, he's established that much. And he's not dead. He's not dead, right? He's in his soul form currently, just as he was when he went to the 12th. His body! Where is his body?!
Just before Ichigo launches himself from the futon, Urahara makes a sitting motion with his hands. "Take it easy, Ichigo. I'm fairly sure that what he did wasn't even close to what he wanted to do. Uryū followed you. When you left the offices, your friend didn't like what he saw and told Jūshiro. Mayuri didn't have you more than 20 minutes."
Okay, well, that's good, but 20 minutes is a very long time. So much could happen. And he just KNOWS there is something the shopkeeper isn't telling him. Ichigo narrows his eyes. "What did he DO?" he demands a second time.
"Stupid old man," an all-too-familiar eerie voice says from behind the door. The words have a breathy, oddly pitched quality that can only belong to one being. But he can't possibly be here!
The rice paper door is thrown aside forcefully and there, standing next to the kneeling shopkeeper, is Shiro. Shirosaki, his hollow...in a gigai. Dressed in a button-down white shirt, white slacks and even white shoes. This pale being could pass for something close to normal, were it not for the eyes. Gleaming yellow in a sea of black.
"Hey there, partner," the hallow says with a grin. His blue—why would it be blue in a gigai?!—tongue comes out to lick his lips suggestively. He has his hand on the door, leaning to display his lithe body, showcased by his modern clothes.
The first thing that Ichigo notices is that the being's reiatsu isn't nearly as strong as he would have expected. Granted, he's not the best when it comes to sensing such things, but with the guy right there, even he should be able to notice more than he is. The fact that he doesn't would normally be enough to have Ichigo deepen his almost perpetual frown, but at the moment, he's too gobsmacked to do anything but stare with his mouth hanging open, an accusing finger pointing at the hollow.
"Better close your mouth, King," Shiro says, as he moves into the room. When he reaches the foot of the futon, the hollow drops to his hands and knees and begins crawling up over Ichigo's legs. "You'll catch flies that way."
Ichigo can't get his body to do anything until he feels that blue tongue licking his index finger. "Gah!" Jumping up, he somehow manages to extract himself and stands against the back wall, looking at the hollow like he'd just tried to kill him, rather than simply lick him. Which, uh, gross!
Urahara is still sitting there, the fan once more before his face, as he watches things play out.
"Urahara, what the hell is going on!?" Ichigo demands a little shrilly, as he watches Shiro get back to his feet and begin advancing on him once more. The orange-haired teen begins moving sideways along the wall, working his way toward the door as he tries to keep some distance between himself and the hollow.
"This is what Mayuri did," the shopkeeper says, gesturing toward the pale man with his fan. "He somehow managed to pull Shirosaki out of you." The voice is so very serious that Ichigo can't do anything but believe him. It's not a bad joke.
"Bu-bu-but how?!" Ichigo wants to know, as he manages to work his way around to the door. Shiro is literally prowling after him, oh so slowly, licking his lips, his yellow eyes watching him predatorily. The asshole is enjoying this! "And why is he in a gigai?" Instead of in me, he silently wonders. Mayuri may have been able to pull the hollow out, but what would keep him from returning? Especially when it's obvious the creature loves making Ichigo's life hell.
When Shiro had been in Ichigo's mindscape they had battled for dominance and Ichigo had won. Again and again. The hollow has been well behaved for some time now. However, that had been there. Now Shiro was out, with a body of his own, and that was a terrifying prospect.
Ichigo is doing his best not to hyperventilate as he watches the hollow move. This can't really be happening.
"I'm reading Mayuri's notes to try and figure out the 'how' of it," Urahara soothes, seemingly unconcerned about the hollow's behaviour. "And I put him in a gigai, because I'm not sure how long he can maintain his own form outside of yours. So, until I figure out what was done, I thought this safest."
The teen stares at Urahara. The man has a very strange definition of "safe". Then again, this is the guy that came close to killing him as a way of getting Ichigo's shinigami powers back. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ichigo closes his eyes as he tries to stave off the headache he can feel building.
Of course that is a stupid thing to do, because it means not seeing what Shiro is doing. His eyes fly open as cool, slender fingers brush is cheek. "Awwww, poor King. Is it all too much for ya?" The hollow is standing before him, stroking his face with a feather-light touch. However, there is nothing of concern or care in that touch. Not when Shiro is grinning at him like that, not when that tongue is reaching out toward his lips.
"Oi! Would you stop it?" Ichigo demands, as he tries to duck away from the hollow.
"Make me," the eerie voice says gleefully, as the Shiro advances on him once more. A hand with black finger nails reaches for him again. Ichigo shudders as, the hollow begins to cackle, utterly delighted with his game.
"Shirosaki, remember the rules." That's Urahara, who is fanning himself calmly as he watches the pair. "I can put you in a gikongon," he says lightly, but with an ominous undertone. As well it should be. Ichigo doubts the hallow would have much fun stuck inside an artificial soul pill. Actually, why hadn't Urahara done that in the first place? It would sure save them all a lot of problems.
He's relieved when he sees Shiro give a dramatic sigh and take a step back from him. "Yes, yes," the watery voice says as he waves a dismissive hand at the shopkeeper. "I remember the rules. But I can still have some fun without hurting anyone." And it's at that point that he smirks once more at Ichigo.
For his part, Ichigo rolls his eyes. Well, if the hollow is going to behave himself, then maybe this will be survivable until Urahara gets it sorted out. "So, what are we going to do with him?" The teen asks the ex-captain.
"Your father has already offered to let Shiro stay with your family," Urahara informs him, as the man stands up, fanning himself, and seeming to think that everything's squared away.
"WHAT?!" Ichigo all but shrieks, his caramel eyes widening comically. "No, hell no, sooooo not gonna happen!" He crosses his arms and glares at the hallow, since Urahara has already taken himself into the hallway. When Shiro gives him a questioning look, he elaborates. "You're not going to be anywhere near my sisters!"
The hollow's yellow eyes narrow dangerously. "And just what the fuck do ya think I'd DO to 'em?" Shiro sneers angrily. The little reiatsu that Ichigo can feel from the other begins to swell. He balls up his fists, ready for anything the hollow might pull, or so he tells himself.
But Shiro just brushes past him out into the hall, stamping along the wood floors angrily. Ichigo peeks out into the hall, watching him go, and wondering what exactly just happened and why he's not bloodied.
He should probably go find Urahara and tell him he'll have to make other living arrangements for the hollow.