Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.
A Road of Despair
So tonight I'm calling all astronauts
All the lonely people that the world forgot
If you hear my voice come pick me up
Are you out there?
'Cause you're all I've got!
-Astronaut, by Simple Plan-
Ichigo wandered through the empty streets of Karakura.
("Ichi-nii!")
A stray dog limped at his side, ears twitching. It barked and then ran away when the wind wafted the scent of garbage and decay from the east.
("Ichigo, you strawberry! Save them!")
Mirroring the skeleton remains of his past friends, the shadows of the bare trees danced before him. A whirl of leaves blew past him.
("Damn – we can't hold out!")
He stopped in front of a decrepit store with a battered van parked to the side. Sad and lonely, it was nothing like the home of Soul Society's greatest genius – as it used to be.
("Use this, Ichigo . . . It's our only hope.")
The orange head pushed the door open and went to the back room. It was a depressing sight: pillows strewn all over the room, a low table turned over, and a beautiful painting shredded to bits. Bits of blood were splattered on the walls here and there – most likely the result of the final wave.
("Oh dear, it seems we are being attacked . . .")
An English song was playing in an abandoned iPod. Knowing Urahara, it probably wasn't an iPod. "Can anybody tell me why I'm lonely like a satellite?" droned the maybe-music device.
("Kurosaki, behind you!")
He descended the beckoning stairs and tried to ignore the memories assaulting him from all sides.
("The Primera Espada is attacking the Urahara Shop!")
He emerged into a big, rocky desert. The artificial sky above looked beautiful in the night, but he could see miniscule cracks and flaws marring the facade, signalling that it was going to fall apart someday.
("Kurosaki-kun . . . the last one standing . . .")
His throat constricted. The memories were stronger here. This was where it all happened.
("What in Soul Society - ? Ichigo, what are you doing?!")
He closed his eyes just as a drop of liquid streaked down his cheek.
("Wha – Byakuya? Renji? Rukia? Ikkaku? What are you doing here?")
A platoon of negative emotions invaded the mask of indifference he always wore ever since the war ended.
("What do you mean you're fighting here – Are those the other Captains? Who's defending the Seireitei?!")
And it cracked . . .
(". . . Destroyed . . .? But . . . Aizen was here . . .")
Cracked . . .
("He has gotten more powerful, Kurosaki. His Shikai now allows him to be in two places at once.")
Spots of water dampened the dry earth. The [former] Substitute Shinigami wiped away his tears and marched slowly toward the still-open Senkaimon in the middle of the training ground.
("A – And he invaded Soul Society? What about the old man?")
He stepped through the giant gate and unsheathed Zangetsu. Somehow, even Aizen's influence reached the Dangai; he had changed the entire structure of the in-between.
("Yamamoto is dead?!")
Ichigo stared at the ruins of the Seireitei. The once proud and tall buildings were now in shambles. Slabs of rock and wood were scattered all over the formerly beautiful afterlife. But wait . . . was that . . . ?
("Don't give up . . .")
He stumbled through the broken gate and headed for the Academy . . .
(". . . because everything we have been working for . . .")
. . . and stopped at the amazing sight.
(". . . has led to this.")
The remaining Captains, Lieutenants, and all the Shinigami were rebuilding the great school. They were all working together, no matter how injured or how tired.
He ran down to help . . .
("A world of freedom is a world worth living in.")
. . . all the while berating himself for giving up hope . . .
("Come on and help us, Ichigo!")
. . . because the road that is built upon hope . . .
("Get your lazy ass up here and help!")
. . . is more pleasant to the traveller than the road built in despair, even though they both lead to the same destination.
END
I'm asking myself, "Why the hell did I write this again?"
Answer: I was feeling really down a few weeks ago and wrote the depressing scene in the beginning and middle. Today, I was feeling really good and I happened to be surfing through my files and I found this depressing little story and decided to finish it on a light note.
"The road that is built upon hope is more pleasant to the traveller than the road built in despair, even though they both lead to the same destination." That quote is not mine, but Marian Zimmer Bradley's. Yeah, I have no idea who that is either.
PS: Are the genres I picked right? I know it's angst, but I'm not too sure about spiritual . . .