I've listed the characters as Renji and Ichigo, but as to who is speaking to whom? I think it can go either way so I'll leave it to reader interpretation. This story has an intentionally flat and repetitive tone. I'm hoping it comes across as if the narrator is in a state of shock or grief, but I'm not sure how well it worked out.
Disclaimer: Only Bleach I own is NaOCl.
Kuchiki Rukia died in Hueco Mundo. Beneath the barren white walls of Los Noches, inside its hollow hallways, impaled by a familiar blade held by a profaned version of a familiar hand, she died.
I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think life could be torn from Rukia, strong and stubborn Rukia. I thought she would twist out of death's reach, grasp life with clawing, tenacious fingers and hold fast. I thought she would cling to life, wrap her hands tight around that last thin thread until someone could come help her. I thought she would wait.
I was wrong.
She died. And worse, she died alone.
That is my sin and my shame. My burden.
I felt it happen. It was like a dam breaking -- her life-force cascading down until only a small trickle was left. I felt it happen but I didn't go to her. I didn't go to her, and when that small trickle became nothing it was too late.
I can't defend myself. I will never forgive myself. Nothing will cleanse my guilt. Nothing will lift this stain from my soul. I only want to explain. My sin will never be justified but perhaps it can be understood.
I thought the one she loved would rush to her side. I thought the one she loved would bandage her wounds, guard her, stay with her until she could be healed.
I thought the one she loved would go to her.
And I thought it would be you.