.... He was so tired...so fucking tired, but his mind was still working overtime. It told him how pathetic and worthless he was-less than a man...nothing compared to Ulquiorra-while simultaneously goading him to violence. Ichigo picked up the shard, closed his eyes, and held it to the pulsing artery in his neck. He pushed hard enough to pierce the skin and smiled his relief as fresh blood poured out. How easy it would be to end his suffering. No more agony, no more feeling...but he couldn't. For the same reason he couldn't give his demon free reign. The girls would be left to fend for themselves. As horrible and disgusting as his life was, they were the redeeming aspects of it. Without him, they would be at the mercy of the world that loved to fuck him mercilessly-and that he could never allow.
With a defeated sigh, Ichigo took the shard from his neck and instead, placed its tip at his bicep. This, he could do. This would not kill him but could dull his pain, so he cut. Every slice brought him some measure of relief and for that he was thankful. When his right bicep was carved as though he'd been attacked by an animal, he started on his left. That was when inspiration struck. He would make her happy with him.
He began carving into the delicate skin from his left shoulder, straight down to just above his inner-elbow. Wh...