He made it back to Momo's rooms just time before she came storming into the place. It vibrates from the merciless energy of the girl as her hand land on his lustrous cheek. His body crashed into the table that held the warm tea for their dinners like always. Slumping on the black surface, he lightly traced the mark and winced a little from the sharp pain she could only stare in a fury at the Doll that was hers and hers alone.

"You went with him when I told you to stay here!" she shirked, back handing the broken boy onto the bed before he could even explain or calm her down at all "You are mine! Not his!"

Shiro only kept his form still while she stormed and broke the tea set and throw and tore up the books in the room for a few moments and then left. It was the good thing she had not forced on him in one of those rages. His body couldn't stand a session tonight alone with Momo and snap.

"Things must be going badly for them if she's like this..." he thought, just laying on the bed and resting on the black sheets of silk. It felt good on his raw skin not to move at all. Just rest for now and think of what to do next.

Found out who Hitusyaga Toushiro was or had been before this war or Aizen captured him. Shiro knew there was a deep connection to the woman and her silver eyes. He knew it.

She had said his name on her lips, something rose in his heart for a beat, that feeling he dared not to name in those eyes yet longed to feel from her. Her touch had never hurt his skin; he felt that from his body and wondered what it might feel like to be touched in love and not pain or torture.

Something of a long forgotten dream he had once.

A life time ago in the mind of or as this Hitusyaga Toushiro seem almost not replicable

Was he this boy? Maybe not? He had to find the truth out or this wound torture his soul more than Aizen or Momo ever could on his flesh. Shiro knew this, felt this and made his choice deeply rooted in his mind. Yet there was only one place that might hold his answer in Aizen's bedrooms.

No one dared to go into the core of the ashen kingdom, not even Gin.

Shiro knew this thought might have ended his plan, not even the Espada dared to cross the door frame of that room. No one did...it was a death sentence to even touch the black wood of the massive doors. Yet it was the only place that might hold the answer he needs.

There was no choice or turning back now with this thought in his mind. He had to know the truth of the boy and the silvered eye woman who yearned for his return to her side. Shiro would do the forbidden even if he lost his life at the end of it. He would weather lose his life doing something brave before doing a fool's death than stay like this. A doll with no name and belonging to all but himself in the end of his life, or this endless illusion of days such as this one.

He wanted to belong to himself,

He wanted his name back.

He wanted himself.

He lay in the bed and dared not sleep for some time still; Momo could come back in a foul mood. It was better to be ready for that. Shiro knew this lesson all too well from the few other times of being caught off glued by the beauty. He shuddered at her imagine her touch on his cheek, the nails digging in to claw into the cheek and causes the blood to flow so eagerly. She had lapped at it like a kitten with milk, trailing kisses down his pale neck and leaving his blood as her mark that night. Clawing at his shoulders and lapping his blood as it feels to the white sheets. "Mine, all mine." was all she hummed in her angelic like voice in his ears. Then left him alone to clean the mess up...

Shiro knew from the chime of the broken it would be some time till she did come back to the rooms. This could his only chance to get it over with before he lost his nerve and once more slipped away into his mind as he done this past year. Or had it been days? Weeks? Hours? No time here at all to measure the lapse of it all.

He had done it now!

Shiro pushed himself up from the bed, only taking the time to put on a fresh robe and pants as white as his hair with a tray for food or tea Momo might send him for. It was a cover up he could use for his part in why he was walking around like this and with out Momo by his side in some of the darker parts of the kingdom.

He could say he was lost; it worked before once for the first time to the kitchens for her. Playing the Doll had kept him alive out of the Arrancar fear of the small girl. It said something if they feared her so strongly of how twisted her soul had become in this place of inheritable nights and cloudless skies. Maybe he was at twisted as her? Shaking his head for the moment, the boy only padded out into the empty halls once more.

No one was around.

Strange maybe?

Or it was the War with the Shinigami that made this place so empty of the life.

But it worked out for him, keeping well aware of any sounds that might give him even a moment's leap to hide or slip on the mask of the Doll he used now around these beings to keep his inner self-safe and thoughts. If they knew? He might not come back to being Shiro and just truly a husk of flesh for being played with and dressed up. He shivered in this thought alone, his small feet padding down the halls and heading deeper into the core of what must hell.

Moments turned and stretched into minutes and soon maybe hours as he wandered the halls of the white hell of Aizen's kingdom of white. Teal eyes darting at shadows or his body freezing for a moment as if hearing a sound of foot steps coming his way just around the turns and twist of the corridors that might lead to his end by their hands so very quickly. Now and then a few would walk by as he kept to the edge of the wall. There heart pounding in his chest like a drum and stilling his breath in the air to keep silent in his walk to hell maybe? Shiro was the mouse in this place and he knew he acted the part to keep alive.

Yet a mouse did fight back some times.

Keeping his head low in case he ran into one of them, the rooms had very little light in them from the lamps on the walls that were getting further spaced out as he went along the endless hall ways. Then for a moment, he wanted to give up, he was worn out and tired from the already events on his body. Shiro placed his head on the cool stone of the hall, drinking in the chill and loving it. He liked the cold, felt it call to him like a sirens song to touch it and bathe his body in her chill.

Cold..like ice..frozen in time and yet being reshaped. Still being what it was in the core no matter shaped by who's hands.

Ice..

"Hitsu..."

His teal eyes snapped open from the loving touch of the chill on his forehead. That voice! It was not the woman; it was deeper and echoed of thunder and breaking the ice. Ice and snow captured in the roar of the tone. He knew that voice!

Not even caring anymore for his plan, his body reacted while his mind stood still in the recollection of his actions. It guided him to the black doors of the Lord, they looked like the Hell gates that opened for the damn souls of humans...he shivered but sensed nothing of the man here they belonged too.

"gaya Tor"

It was called that name he held deep in his soul, it stirred the person inside of him to come out. To claim that name that was his and his alone. Shiro lightly pushed it back for now till they found what or who was calling them from this room.

Pulling in his breath, the young boy pushed the door open and stepped into the blackness of the rooms. His form swallowed by the darkness as the hell gates closed

once more to the ashen world.