I had a kind of weird experience writing this. Like it isn't what I usually write. Even when my sister read it over for me, she didn't believe I actually wrote it.
Feedback is appreciated. This is a new style I'm trying.
Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.
It didn't matter the circumstances. They were always together.
He would tease her lack of artistic abilities. She would call him strawberry. When he got depressed, she would kick him out of his funk. That's the kind of bond they had. Clearing up the others rain. Bringing a smile to the others face.
As time went on, their friendship never wavered. Not when she sank into a depression when the man she loved (but was married to someone else) died in a car crash. Not when he "came out of the closet" and admitted he loved a boy. Neither of them cared. She was still her, and he was still him. They were still friends.
Even when it came to romantic pursuits, neither of them ever felt left out, or a third wheel. "It could almost be considered a threesome," she had said once, and they both laughed until their sides hurt.
When she married a childhood friend, he looked at her and said, "Congratulations," and didn't worry about spending less time with her because he knew she had other people than himself and they would still be friends. They both treasured their bond: it was something special. Later, when he married his second-cousin, she didn't look at him twice and congratulated him as eagerly as he had to her. That was the kind of bond they had. Supporting the other in times of need, or just being there even when not needed.
He was there when she was studying for college exams to give her pointers. She was there to help him prepare for his first job interview (but he ignored the little bunnies doodled all over his papers).
By the time they were old, they took to taking walks throughout the town; to visit old places with older memories. Sometimes their husbands would come. Sometimes not. One of their favorite spots was a bench overlooking the river. The sunsets that came every night were truly glorious.
"Ichigo," Rukia said, her old voice rasping as she looked out at the wild mix of colors staining the sky. "We'll be friends forever, right?"
"Stupid," Ichigo chuckled dryly. "That's a given."
"What're you guys talking about?" they both turned to see Renji waving an arm, Uryu walking behind him. Renji sat heavily beside Rukia, and Uryu beside Ichigo.
"I have a feeling you're forgetting about us," Uryu said, pushing up his glasses, although not with the precision he had a few decades ago.
"Of course not," Ichigo replied.
All laughed a little.
They all were together. Or at least, most. Orihime had passed on that last week. Chad had been gone for some years. Their circle was broken, yet strong.
But nothing lasts forever.
They all died at the same time, smiling and holding hands while looking over the river.