Always Be With Me In Mind

Summary: After Rukia and Ichigo see each other for the last time, bridges are burnt, yet bonds never disappear. A series of events force them both to reunite and reclaim what was lost. (Set post episode 342; Rated T for language and themes)

Rating: T (although this may change...)

-occurs just after episode 342, before the Fullbring arc; includes elements from Bleach: Fade to Black (because that's one of the best Bleach movies ever, even though I'm starting to lean towards Bleach: Hell Verse…), and season 13 of Bleach (Zanpakutou: Lost Tales arc)

-The title is named after the song 'Always Be With Me In Mind', because I suck at giving titles. Like some addicted Bleach fan, I have downloaded most of the Bleach soundtrack; also, this is the music that was playing in the background during Bleach 342, right when Ichigo wakes up on the day he loses his powers (and I think it was also in Memories of Nobody?). I will designate certain Bleach soundtrack theme songs for each chapter because I can. Mwa. Ha. Ha.

-woo, my second Bleach fic (technically, I wrote this before Ten Songs for Deathberry, but whatever)! I've been reading a lot of them lately, and I can say that a good half of my summer was spent reading about 300 of them (I'm not even kidding; I really have read that much) before I finally realized that I need to write one, too. The only reason I've spent so much time deciding if I should is the fact that I don't know if I can. I'll try to stick to the original characters as hard as I can.

-speaking of which, this is not another 'Captain Ichigo Kurosaki' thing (well, maybe later, I don't know…); while I hold Ichigo's abilities in high respect, I think it's becoming over-rated. And Rukia's abilities don't get as much attention as they deserve, I think. Poor Rukia. Anyway, I'm shutting up now. xD

Edit: It took me two whole weeks of internet deprivation to realise that this whole chapter (and the next) needs to be edited. Revamped. And here it is. I like this version better, too.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I'm hanging on the edge of the world,

I'm clutching to a string

And my life is crumbling down;

I need a superhero, someone to save me.

- 'Superhero', The Pretty Reckless

Heaviness (Bleach theme: Requiem for the Lost Ones)

"Again."

"Rukia, are you –?"

"Do it again, Renji." Her voice is grim and low, full of determination.

Renji hesitates and she hates it. It's like he doesn't want to hurt her, and she can understand that it is because he is a man, but cannot help feeling betrayed at the fact that he will stay his blade for someone who has fought alongside him too many times. It hurts because everyone thinks she is goddamn weak, like beating an Espada with just a shikai isn't enough to prove her worth.

"Fine," she says angrily, sheathing her sword in its scabbard and straightening from her position a few feet away from him. She doesn't need to waste time with him, to waste time with people who will not take her seriously even if the Lieutenant insignia on her arm demands it. Being a Lieutenant does not change things, no, and it only makes people look down on her somehow. She hates it, she doesn't want it, and she just wants people to fucking look at her and not see a small girl who can't defend herself.

Her breathing is uneven but this is normal. She is winded and sweaty, and while she wants so badly to take a hot bath, she can't, because there is just too much that she wants to do and there is not enough time. Never enough.

She can hear him wince as she walks away, like he has finally acknowledged that he has offended her. She thinks and wonders if he truly realises what he has done, and knows that if it was that other person, that other man, that other idiot...things would not be the same. That idiot would worry about her, but he will understand and he will do as she tells him to do.

She stops in her tracks as he calls her name, and she stops walking. She realises that he does the same, and wonders why, God why, won't anyone do the right thing and just grab her and yell at her and knock her back into her senses. Her voice is empty, and she knows it, but she talks anyway. "If you can't take me seriously, then I don't want to waste my time with you."

This time, when she walks away, he does not follow.

It brings a bout of nostalgia that doesn't settle well with her. It makes her feel heavy with grief, that her best friend does not even know what to do with her when she places her hopes on him. But the tears do not come – they have not, for the past two years – and she is glad for having at least that much control. It does not feel as bad as it did when he let her go during their youth, because she knows that he is wiser and regrets having done it in the first place. It still feels terrible, even after all that, because she realises that he is not wiser, and he is not any closer to her than any other person who calls her a 'friend'.

The trek to her office in the 13th Division barracks is short and quick, and she does not waste any time undoing her obi and letting her robes hang loose from her shoulders. The Lieutenant badge falls with a clatter on the wooden floor but she only kicks it so that it slides under the table stock-piled with paperwork.

The headache comes with her agitation, and she bites her tongue so hard that she can taste the coppery, thick texture of her own blood.

She knows that it is coming, and she stumbles to the far corner of the room before allowing herself to slide down against the wall. She pulls her knees close to her chest and tucks her head in. Her fingers dig into her scalp as she grits her teeth, even though she knows that even if her fingers can sink deep into her skull, the pain will not subside. It will not stop; it will never stop.

This entity in her mind, the perverted personification of her darkest desire, is an unwanted parting gift from those siblings whom she had thought she had peacefully let go of. She doesn't think that they cursed her with this...thing...intentionally, but her soul has managed to snag some part of that Hollow that they put inside her. She doesn't think they meant for her to survive.

She tries to breathe, but it is becoming harder. Something is grasping her throat even though it is impossible. Something is squeezing her lungs. Something is filling her nose with some suffocating cloth, and she cannot even breathe through her mouth because that is blocked, too.

Weak, it chides in her mind. She can feel her own will instinctively pushing back against it, and her zanpakutou is in turmoil because she is. Her own zanpakutou cannot help her. So fucking weak, you are.

It is this side of her that she is afraid of. It is this thing that has killed Kaien-dono and Miyako-dono; this thing that torments Ichigo, this thing that she fights and kills because it is her job. Now it is inside of her and she doesn't know how to deal with it, how to suppress it, just like her emotions. She does not know how to stop it, and she is so deathly afraid of it that even trying to speak of it brings the taste of bile dancing on the back of her mouth.

She tries – she has tried, for the past one and a half years – to try and control it, but this insane, almost-desperate need for control is what it desires and she just cannot deny that she wants it, too. She wants it to shut the hell up, to let her do her job and get on with her life, but of course it won't do that because it is in her soul and she cannot take it out.

You're stuck with me, it sings. Its voice is cold and rough and distorted, and she wants to cut her ears off so she won't be able to hear it at all. It tells her lies and truth and she does not know which is which.

"Shut up," she hisses under her breath. The sound comes from her mouth and it reverberates around the room, but it falls on deaf ears. It doesn't matter if she says it out loud or not, because it will not listen to her no matter how loud she screams and yells and begs for it to stop.

There is a knock on her door and she looks up, panicked. She does not want anyone to see her like this; it will strengthen their belief that she needs help even to take a step forward. She gets up and rubs her eyes, and sits in front of her table. She hurriedly ties her obi around her waist and straightens her uniform. She quickly dabs a brush in ink and tries to look casual. "Come in," she calls, even though her voice is rough and ill-used.

"Ohayou, Kuchiki-fukutaichou," Hinamori Momo says underneath an inch-thick pile of new paperwork. She motions for the timid brunette to place the papers on the pile on the right side of her desk. "Paperwork from the Fifth, Kuchiki-san."

She looks up to see Hinamori staring at her like she is some broken person that needs fixing. Her heart hammers against her chest at the thought of being found out, but years of being bred to be almost as emotionless as her brother finally becomes useful. She stares back, meeting the girl's gaze. She tries not to glare – she knows that Hinamori has been through a lot, and being the fukutaichou of the jilted Fifth Division seems to take its toll on her, as well. "Anything else, Hinamori-san?"

The girl seems to hesitate for a second in front of her, and she notices the imperceptible twitch of her fingers like they are yearning to fiddle with something. "Ano...Kuchiki-san...Matsumoto-san is wondering if you are able to join us for the WSA meeting later?"

She doesn't blink when she answers: "Can't. Sorry."

"Eto...Kuchiki-taichou has also asked for your presence there," she says, catching Rukia off-guard. Why does her brother want her for some feminist group meeting? And when has he ever agreed with Matsumoto Rangiku? Hinamori must have caught the confusion in her eyes, because she suddenly chuckles awkwardly and finally fiddles with her thumbs. "Kuchiki-taichou has been going in your place for the past few months, you see..."

Rukia tilts her head to the side. Why would her nii-sama do that? She has not asked him to, and she will never ask him for anything at all. "Why?"

"I have no idea, Kuchiki-san," Hinamori answers almost wistfully.

No wonder she's an easy target, the little ditz, the thing in her mind snaps, causing sharp arcs of pain to race through Rukia's skull. She clenches her fist on the table and makes an attempt not too look like she wants to scream. Suppressing it has done nothing but to give her literal searing headaches, but for what it's worth, at least no one is suspecting her.

"Anyway," Hinamori says brightly, "I'd best go now before the Fifth starts getting chaotic again..."

When she leaves, Rukia lets out an audible sigh. The Hollow inside her laughs at her, and the brush in her hand breaks. Fragile. Brittle. Just like her –

For a moment, her fingers graze against that spot over her heart, the part of her uniform with white, scarred skin lying underneath. It is a scar that haunts her with the memories that come with it, and yet...and yet, it allows her to have a connection with him, because she knows that he has another one just like it.

x

Everything is heavy, but she doesn't let her shoulders sag with the weight of everything, because if she does –

Everyone goes on. The world continues to turn at such a blinding speed, and she can't keep up, not without him.

It is this crippling dependence on just one human man that makes her feel so – what is the word for it? – incompetent. Bordering on utter worthlessness.

In her sleep, she is drowning, weighed down by her burdens. The water does not let off. It does not simply seep into the ground in time. The ice has melted, the cold is gone...but she is suffocated, struggling for breath in her own soul –

Rukia-sama...

Who is that?

The woman sounds familiar. A chord strikes in her heart; she knows that woman. She has not heard that woman in her dreams before, despite the scenario being exactly the same. This is new. Something has changed.

Rukia-sama, wake up...

She finds herself wanting to comply, to lift those heavy lids, but she can't. She struggles now – complacent no more – but she finds that this is futile. The chains that have only hung loosely around her in her past dreams are now tight. She thinks that it is not her burdens that have been heavy all along – it had been these thick, black chains going deep into the water, pulling her away from air.

Her scream is drowned out by the mad cackling of that creature.

For tonight...it has won.