A Hollow Crown

Show Them Why the Crown Is Yours

Originally posted: Sept. 3rd 2021

In the town of Karakura, death was not a foreign concept. And for one little boy, he was quite familiar with it. A tad too familiar.

For as long as Ichigo could remember in his ten years of life, he's been able to communicate with the dearly departed. However, it wasn't that ability landing him in his current predicament.

"What's the matter, carrot-top?! Gonna go cry to mommy?!" Warusai's words hurt just as much as the beating the other child was giving Ichigo. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?!

"He doesn't have one!" Bakugen added another insult on top of Ichigo's injuries. They outnumbered Ichigo and would probably make up some excuse for his bruises, so all Ichigo could do was sit there and take it. Whatever cries of pain Ichigo should have made, he stuffed down. While Ichigo couldn't do much, he wouldn't give them that. Eventually, when they had enough of him, those two and Warusai's other lackey left. Slowly, Ichigo got up. As usual, the bruises were scattered on Ichigo's torso where people wouldn't see them.

But Ichigo wasn't moping around. He was, in a word, pissed.

They go badmouthin' Masaki again, I'll flay those little shits.

I know, but we can't do anything. If I tried beating them up, even in self-defense, they'd find a way to make me look like the bad guy.

The sun was starting to set. Time for him to go home, have some of Yuzu's curry - maybe Dad got take-out -, tend to his bruises, and go to bed. Ichigo was careful in his steps, making sure not to do anything that would worsen the bruises. But he was also quick, making sure he didn't take his time. Zangetsu told him that it was nighttime when the monsters came out. Monsters with white masks that feasted on souls: Hollows. It was one of those monsters that killed his mom, pretending to be a little girl by the river.

If he—

King, it wasn't your fault and never will be your fault that Masaki died.

Ichigo smiled a little. At the very least, he had Zangetsu.

Eventually, Ichigo came back home and opened the door. He was met by the scent of curry, knowing Yuzu to be busy in the kitchen. The clock said 6:00, so Karin was probably in her room.

"Is Dad pulling an all-nighter again?" Ichigo asked, not being surprised that Yuzu said yes. Some days their dad would only have a handful of patients and on others the clinic would be packed. Well, it couldn't be helped. Besides, Ichigo could tend to his wounds on his own with the first aid kit in his room. While his dad wasn't the best, he was quite insistent on Ichigo knowing how to patch himself up and having the tools to do so. He ran up to his room, closing the door softly with a slight click.

His room wasn't much, just the typical stuff with some posters from TV shows he liked and a few toys on the floor. Looking under his bed, he pulled out the first aid kit and went to the mirror hanging on his closet. Lifting up his shirt, he started to assess the damage. As per usual, it was a smattering of bruises along his gut and chest but none looked too bad. He could cushion a few with cotton balls and bandages, but the lumps would draw attention.

"Why don'tcha fight back? Go for the head an' the rest'll go cryin' home." Zangetsu's voice was clearly irritated, not at Ichigo but at those responsible for this little ritual. Zangetsu looked like what Ichigo thought he'd look like when he was grown up. Well, except for Zangetsu being white as a sheet and having some strange eyes, yellow irises on top of black sclera. He had a bit of a strange get-up with a white kosode and hakama, a black obi around his waist.

"I could get my family in trouble." Ichigo's voice sounded resigned to his fate. In truth, he yearned to fight back, to make the hurting go away. But if he tried to protect himself, he could end up harming his family. They weren't some big-name clinic, just one of several small ones you'd expect to find in a city. So Ichigo just grinned and bore it.