Suman's Hollowfication...and others

Suman alighted into Karakura town, his head feeling slightly heavy. He'd been feeling ill ever since he'd killed his 34th Hollow. In fact, he felt downright foul. Could it be something to do with...? No, it wasn't possible. His research was sound. Comprised of that with Urahara's, it was solid. There was no surprises: his functionality said that he could put on his mask when he wanted.

By the time he got to his 57th, he had dark rings under his eyes and he was sweating, his breathing coming in short ragged gasps.

As he rounded the corner, of an alleyway, he was on his knees, the world blurring all around him. Faintly, he heard the words of his own voice twisted and echoing like a cruel mockery. You're utterly clueless aren't you? You stupid shinigami always thought you could tamper with things beyond your understanding... the voice mocked. Suman felt utterly destroyed, his reiatsu changing from Hollow to Shinigami every few minutes. When he saw the dimly-lit silhouette of a soul, Suman was distraught.

His reiatsu was still normal but his eyes were rimmed so that they glinted from two pits of blackness. He coughed, spitting a white substance on the floor.

He rolled over onto his back and breathed hard. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he stared at the person. He clutched his chest, which felt insubstantial, and heaved a deep sigh.

"Help..." He muttered weakly, mustering enough strength to roll onto all fours. His hair had come out of its ponytail and was covering his face. His haori lay abandoned on the floor. He was cursing himself for being such a fool. What's more, his hollow was laughing at him like he was a fool. In hindsight, he saw that he was.