Chapter Text
Backtracking..
The recognition is immediate and chilling. They've seen this before. In Hide and Ken, they see Ichigo and his desperate, illogical, and unwavering devotion. But now, with the Hollow gone, they only see a human with a broken soul and mindset. His emptiness is a tangible weight, a gaping hole where a part of him once was.
The Visoreds are trapped in a complex emotional space. They are not fully trusting the man who brought the tragedy to their doorstep, yet they are not fully uncaring about the boy who reminds them so much of their own struggles. They look at Hide and see a mirror image of the battles they've already fought, a silent testament to the Soul Society's cold, calculating cruelty. They can't walk away because they see a reflection of their own defiant souls in his quiet despair.
Hiyori’s usual fiery rage is replaced by a tense silence. Lisa lowers her book. Love's cheerful demeanor vanishes. They all look at Hide, at the man who has lost his purpose. His desire to save Ken is no longer about power or duty; it's about a simple, human need to heal a part of himself that has been ripped away. They understand his sorrow because they have lived it.
It's a moment of shared grief, of unspoken recognition. They know this road well, and they know the dangers that lie ahead. The question is, what will they do with this understanding? Will they stand aside and let Hide make his choice, or will their empathy force them to intervene?
Currently...
"There you have it, Hide. If worst-case scenario, I'm going to need more data on how to keep you guys alive," Kurotsuchi says, his voice a dispassionate hum. To him, the emotional reunion is just another variable to observe, a crucial piece of data for his ongoing experiment. He is about to make a note when a sudden, familiar spike in spiritual pressure fills the air. It's not the Soul King, but it's close enough to trigger his scientific curiosity.
The lab doors explode inward as the Visoreds burst into the room. They had been on edge ever since they sensed the faint, yet distinct, Arrancar pressure. They are ready for a fight, their masks at the ready, but they stop dead in their tracks at the sight before them.
Their faces, once tense with anticipation, are now masks of stunned confusion. They see Hide holding Ken in a desperate embrace. The spiritual pressure they sensed is coming from Ken, and the heartbreaking chant of "I'm a monster" is echoing in their minds. They look at Hide, the human who has been a part of their makeshift family, holding a being that looks exactly like the human he lost. Their minds are reeling. They don't know what to do. They don't know what to say. They are now faced with a horrifying truth: the enemy they came to fight is their friend's last hope.
The family isn't just broken because Ken is gone; it's broken because the "new" Ken is a living testament to that loss. He is a ghost of a memory, a cruel, beautifully crafted lie. The joy Hide feels at his return is tainted by the bitter knowledge that this is not his best friend. It is an Arrancar who looks and sounds like him, but who believes he's a monster. The cracks in their family are not just from loss, but from this new, horrifying reality. They are in a new home, a new life, but their family is more broken than it's ever been.
Kurotsuchi's grin widens as he observes the Visored's stunned silence. He gestures to the entire lab with a flourish. "The boy is right, of course. My work here is... unorthodox. I'm basically an accomplice to a cosmic anomaly. The Soul King's little experiment, if you will." He laughs, a high-pitched, self-satisfied cackle that echoes in the sterile room. "But it's not out of some misguided sense of compassion. It's only because I wanted to."
The words hang in the air, a chilling testament to his profound lack of empathy. He sees their shock and disgust not as a warning, but as a confirmation of his own intellectual superiority. He's a scientist and a rebel, a man who has no loyalty to anything but his own insatiable curiosity.
The Visoreds, however, see something else. They see a mirror of the very system that created them. A system that is more concerned with order and data than with the lives of the people who are caught in its gears. They know that this man is a ticking time bomb, and that his ego and his experiments will eventually come at a horrifying price.
The silence in the lab is a stark contrast to the earlier confrontation. The Visoreds, seeing the truth of the situation for themselves, made a choice to retreat, leaving you and Kurotsuchi alone. Their final looks were a mix of concern for Hide and wary distrust of the scientist.
Kurotsuchi, seemingly uninterested in the emotional drama, returns to his notes, scribbling down data. To him, this is a variable in the experiment, a necessary period of observation. But for Hide, it's something else entirely. It's a fragile moment of quiet, a chance to see if the person he loves is still there.
Ken, the new Ken, remains still, his head lowered. He is processing, his mind a whirlwind of old memories and a new, alien reality. His new body is a stranger to him, his spiritual pressure a foreign hum. The world, as he once knew it, has been warped and twisted into something new and terrifying.
Hide’s voice is soft, but it cuts through the humming of the lab like a blade, a question that has been haunting him since his world shattered. He stares at the new Ken, his question a desperate plea for reassurance.
"What will you do once I disappear?"
The silence that follows is deafening. Kurotsuchi smirks, his voice a low hum. "Based on the data, the subject should continue to exist and operate without the need for an external anchor." His words are cold, calculated, and utterly devoid of emotion. "The friendship, the loyalty, the emotional bond you have with him—it's all a part of his new mind. He will simply continue to exist, as a new being."
But Ken's reaction is different. He's been standing still, but now he moves. His eyes, a chilling pale blue, lock onto Hide. He doesn't answer the question right away. He just stares at Hide, a profound and complex sadness in his gaze.
Ken's hands shoot out and grab Hide's shoulders, a frantic, almost desperate grip. His pale eyes are shaky and teary, a raw display of a grief so deep it transcends his new, spiritual body. He's not a cold, unfeeling specimen. He's a terrified person.
"The hollow in me craves souls," he whispers, his voice thick with a profound, bone-deep sadness. "But the human in me feels detached from everyone."
It's a chillingly familiar truth.(one that echoes the heartbreaking duality of Haise Sasaki) He's a new being, a product of a twisted scientific experiment, but he's also a person who is trapped between two worlds. The Hollow in him has a primal, monstrous need for power and souls, but the human in him feels a profound, almost paralyzing sense of loneliness. He's not just a monster; he's a monster who is also desperately lonely.
The quiet hum of the lab has become the new normal. Days bleed into weeks, and the tension of Ken's awakening gives way to a fragile, daily rhythm. Kurotsuchi is a constant presence, observing and taking notes, but a tense sort of peace has settled over the strange little family.
Aiko is the first to arrive. She steps into the living quarters, a warm, bright presence in the sterile environment. She's heard everything from Hide—the truth about Ken's new form, the harrowing awakening, and the heartbreaking confession. But what she sees is something different entirely.
Ken is sitting on the couch, watching a television program. He's not the hollow-eyed, silent figure Hide first described. His black hair is now fully black, the white streaks gone, and the hollow glow in his eyes has faded, replaced by a familiar depth and warmth. His presence feels grounded and calm. He is more human than hollow now, a testament to the power of Hide's unconditional acceptance.
He looks up, a small, genuine smile gracing his lips. "Hey, Aiko."
The sight of him, so seemingly normal, is a wave of quiet hope. Aiko had prepared herself for a monster, but she's faced with a person.
Aiko doesn't hesitate. She needs to know if the warmth in his eyes is real, if the person she knew is truly standing before her. She curiously walks up to Ken and reaches out, her hand wavering for a moment before she gently pokes his cheek.
The touch is a simple, human gesture, but in this sterile lab, it is an act of profound courage. The skin is warm, solid, and real. It's an undeniable confirmation that he is a tangible being, not a fleeting spirit or a cold illusion. Hide watches with a bated breath, his own hope hanging on this simple, physical contact. He waits to see how this new, paradoxical being will react. Will he flinch? Will he pull away?
Ken’s eyes, filled with a familiar spark of life, look up at Aiko. A small, soft smile touches the corners of his lips. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans into her touch, a simple, human act that speaks volumes about his progress. He isn't the monster he believed himself to be.
The knot in Hide’s stomach, once a tight, painful knot of despair, is slowly beginning to loosen. It hasn’t completely unraveled, but it’s a palpable sense of relief. He watches Ken, who is learning to navigate his new reality. Ken's tendency to show his hollow tentacle is a chilling reminder of his Arrancar form, a ghostly appendage that appears and disappears at will. But it's not a threat. It's a new, unsettling habit. He's still Ken, but in a new, paradoxical way, and his good intentions are the most human part about him.
Hide’s fear, however, hasn’t disappeared. It has simply shifted. He's no longer worried about the being that has a piece of his best friend’s soul; he’s more worried about the man who put it there. Kurotsuchi is a constant, unsettling presence, a man who sees them not as people but as a scientific problem to be solved.
Hide understands that freedom is more than just being physically untethered; it's a state of mind. He knows that Ken, who has just been brought back in a lab, needs to feel that he is not a prisoner.
Hide takes a step back from Ken, giving him space. His voice is gentle but firm, carrying a weight of conviction. "You can go anywhere you want in this space," he says, gesturing around the living quarters. "No one's watching you. There are no eyes looming over you." He then gestures to a door leading out of the living area. "That leads outside. You can go wherever you want."
Kurotsuchi, in the background, simply observes. He makes no comment, no protest. To him, this is just a variable in the experiment. A controlled environment where the subject is given the illusion of freedom to observe their reaction.
Ken stands, his new Arrancar form responding to a world of spiritual pressure in a way his human body never could. He can feel the faint, distant power of the Soul Society, the chaotic spiritual signature of the Visoreds, and the oppressive, constant presence of the man in the corner. His senses are heightened, a frightening and overwhelming flood of information.
He looks at Kurotsuchi, not just at his chillingly satisfied grin, but at his habits—the constant note-taking, the way his eyes dissect him, the way he treats him as an object of study. This is what truly terrifies him. The man's very presence is a cage.
Hide offers him freedom, but Ken takes a step back. "It feels alien now," he whispers, his voice filled with a profound sense of loss. He's a prisoner of his own making, his mind a battlefield where the desire for normalcy fights against the cold, scientific reality of what he's become.
Hide understands. He sees the battle in Ken’s eyes and knows this is not a fight he can win with a hug or a kind word. This is a war he must fight with patience and unconditional love. What does Hide do now to show Ken that freedom is not an illusion?
Hide's understanding is a quiet comfort. He doesn't press the issue of freedom, sensing that for Ken, it's a concept that feels too big and too heavy right now. Instead, he nods, a silent acknowledgment of Ken's fear, and sits down next to him on the couch.
It's a simple act, but it speaks volumes. It says, "I'm not going to force you. I'm not going to leave you. I'm just going to be here, with you."
The sterile air of the lab feels a little less cold. Kurotsuchi is still in the background, a perpetual, unsettling presence, but for this moment, he doesn't matter. It's just Hide and Ken, side by side, in a quiet, shared silence. This isn't a victory; it's a fragile, temporary truce with a terrifying reality.
Ken sits back down, but he doesn't leave the space between them. Instead, he shifts, and with a silent, heavy sigh, leans against Hide. It's a simple, trusting action that speaks volumes. For a moment, the humming of the lab fades, and it feels like they are just two friends, side-by-side.
Hide's heart clenches. He wants to wrap his arm around Ken's shoulders, to show him all the love he has and whisper every reassurance, but a wave of unwanted anxiety washes over him. It's the ghost of the life they once had, a normal life that this new reality has made impossible. What do you do when your best friend is back, but he's also a scientific experiment? The simple act of comfort feels so out of place, so awkward, that Hide can't bring himself to do it.
He doesn't pull away, but he sits, rigid and still, a silent, heartbroken witness to the tragic irony of their reunion.
"Theres a question thats bugging me and its awkward to ask with Kurotsuchi staring at us.Does he see a family life with me?" wonders Hide, heart pounding in his chest.
Does he see a family life with Hide? Do Hide, Ken and AIko feel like family? What does Ken see?
Ken is caught completely off guard. He looks at Hide's hopeful, expectant eyes and sees the genuine love there, and it's a profound, heartbreaking realization. He doesn't know how to answer, and his silence hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his new reality.
It's a bittersweet truth. They feel like a family, a small, fragile unit that has been brought back from the brink. But it's hard to do family things when one of you is a Hollow-human hybrid and the other is a fugitive from the Soul Society. They can't go to the movies, or out for a meal, or even walk in the park. Their family life is confined to the four walls of a lab, under the watchful, scientific eye of a man who sees them as nothing more than an experiment.
This is their new reality. They have a family, but they are still a broken one. They can be together, but their lives will never be normal again.
Hide wants nothing more than to make the best of it. His focus is on the fragile family they've managed to form, but his hope is now directly at odds with Ken's profound fear. For Ken, the Visoreds are a horrifying paradox. He sees in them a chilling reflection of his own new existence.
They are a rogue Soul Reaper crossed with a Hollow, a walking contradiction. To a being who is a new form of Arrancar, this is a terrifying reality. Ken has his human memories and Hide's love to ground him, but he also has a primal, instinctual knowledge of what they are. In his mind, they are the very definition of the monster he fears himself to be.
He doesn't know who to trust. He trusts Hide, but Hide brought him to the one person he fears most—Kurotsuchi. And the Visoreds, while seemingly compassionate, are still a part of the spiritual world that has only ever offered him pain.
The Visoreds, having sensed a dramatic change in spiritual pressure, are on their way to the lab.
The quiet, fragile peace shatters. Hide's sweat drops as he feels the spiritual pressure outside. He knows that sound; it's the signature of the Visoreds. The timing couldn't be worse.
He had just asked Ken about family life, a question meant to comfort, but it had sent Ken into a panic. The new Arrancar had started to tremble, his spiritual energy spiking in his distress. The question had forced him to confront the painful paradox of his new existence, and he had started freaking out. The spiritual pressure of his turmoil was what the Visoreds felt, and it's what led them straight to the lab.
Hide's heart pounds. The Visoreds are here, ready for a fight, and they're about to see a heartbreaking truth they aren't prepared for. They're about to see their friend, a human, holding a being they've been trained to destroy.
Shinji's usual nonchalant demeanor is gone, replaced with a solemn, focused look as he walks up to Hide and Ken. The other Visoreds stare, dumbfounded, their faces a mix of confusion and disbelief. They've seen a lot of weird things in their time, but a human hugging a panicked Arrancar is new even for them.
Hide looks up, his attempt to soothe Ken interrupted. He offers a weak, nervous chuckle, the sound thin and strained in the tense atmosphere. "Yeah," he says, "bad time to ask. I just asked him how family life was for him... and, you know, now he's freaking out."
Hiyori's face contorts into a scowl of pure fury. "What the hell did you do, you idiot?!" she screams at Hide, her voice a sharp, piercing sound that makes Ken flinch. Without waiting for a response, she storms off, her tiny body a whirlwind of righteous indignation. The other Visoreds remain, their expressions a mix of confusion and silent judgment.
Hide, his own shoulders slumping with relief that Hiyori is gone, gently rubs Ken's back. The touch is meant to be soothing, a physical anchor to a crumbling reality. "Don't worry about her," Hide says quietly, his voice a low, calming rumble. "She's just... like that."
He then looks at Ken, his eyes filled with a desperate need for understanding. "These are the Visoreds," he explains. "They stumbled upon us when you... when you were created. They're part-Soul Reaper, part-Hollow, just like you're part-human, part-Hollow. It's complicated, but... they're harmless."
The word "harmless" hangs in the air, a lie Hide desperately wants to be true. He knows the Visoreds are anything but, but he also knows that Ken needs to believe it.
Hide's apology is a quiet, human moment in the midst of a supernatural standoff. He knows the Visoreds are dangerous, but he also knows they are Ichigo's allies. "I know these guys," Hide says, his voice a low, reassuring murmur. "If Ichigo trusts them, I do too."
He then turns his attention back to Ken. "I'm sorry about him," Hide says, gesturing to Ken's trembling form. "He's been acting like his old, human self...but nothing seems to relax him." He pauses, then a thought seems to spark in his eyes. He looks at Aiko, who is standing a few feet away, her eyes wide with concern. "Maybe Aiko..."
The Visoreds exchange glances. This is a mess of emotional complexity they don't know how to handle. Hiyori is gone, but the others are still here, and they're not going to leave until they get some answers.
Shinji crosses his arms and lets out a sigh, his usual smirk replaced by a look of weary concern. "Listen, Hide," he says, "I'm not gonna pretend to know what's going on here, but can you stop jumpscaring us?"
He gestures to the other Visoreds, who are all looking on with a mix of unease and morbid fascination. "We get it," Shinji continues, "living with... whatever he is now isn't easy. We have our own inner Hollows, so we know what it's like." He pauses, and his eyes shift to Ken, who is still trembling slightly in Hide's arms. "But these sudden spikes in pressure... they make us uneasy."
He's not just being sarcastic; he's speaking from a place of genuine empathy and fear. They've lived with the constant threat of their own inner Hollows, but they've never seen anything like the chaotic, unpredictable energy that's coming from Ken.
The initial tension from the Visored's arrival slowly begins to fade, but it's replaced with a quiet, uneasy watchfulness. Shinji's words hang in the air, a mix of concern and a stark, brutal honesty. The other Visoreds don't leave; they stand in the room, observing the strange, heartbreaking scene. Hide continues to hold Ken, his presence a steady anchor for the frightened Arrancar. Ken's shaking subsides, but his body remains rigid, a silent testament to his terror.
Over the next few days, a new, bizarre normal takes hold. The Visoreds start spending more time in the lab, their presence a constant, unsettling hum of spiritual pressure. They are not enemies, but they are not friends either. They are living, breathing reminders of the horror that Ken has become.
In a hidden, soundproof chamber miles away, Urahara and Yoruichi are watching the entire ordeal on a large, glowing screen. The footage is grainy, but the spiritual pressure readings are clear. Urahara's fan is still, his eyes narrowed as he observes Kurotsuchi's lab.
"I can't believe it," Yoruichi says, her voice a low growl. "That madman actually did it. He created an Arrancar with a human soul."
Urahara doesn't respond. He is too engrossed in the data. "He's not just an Arrancar," he says, his voice a low, thoughtful murmur. "He's a new being entirely. He's a perfect blend of human and Hollow, a true paradox."
Yoruichi crosses her arms, her expression a mix of awe and disgust. "And what about the kid? What about Hide?" she asks. "He's a good kid. He doesn't deserve this."
Urahara finally looks at her, a rare, solemn expression on his face. "No, he doesn't," he says. "But now he's a part of something much bigger than himself." He looks back at the screen, at the footage of the Visoreds and Kurotsuchi and Ken. "And we have to decide what to do about it."