A Mad World, a bleach fanfic

A Mad World

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is theirs.

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places

Worn out faces

They stand around the grave. Tears fill their eyes and a nameless priest says a few kind words about the young man he never knew. Family stands dressed in black; tear stains dominate their faces. Friends linger, heads bowed in memory of the brash soul that had changed their lives. The irony that he wouldn't get the same chance he had given them was lost on no one. They had an afterlife to wait for and enjoy, but fate had conspired against him again. In the end, a human turned death god was nothing more than a death god. There would be no eternity to drink away the memories with friends for the violent-haired hero. Just the cold dark embrace of the grave as the soul is stripped from the shell that had been Ichigo Kurosaki.

In the shadows, others mourn unseen. A red-headed young man and violet-eyed girl stand together. No tears mar their features, but their broken expressions expose emotions beyond the ability of tears. A blonde man and seven others stand to the side, silent and solemn, mourning for a brother lost to a bitter enemy. Beyond them, a bald man pours a cup of sake on the ground tribute to the boy who had bested him so long ago. The men next to him stand stoically, unable to accept it all. Hundreds of souls hover around his grave, and the last vestige of what was Ichigo finds it all meaningless. It was true what they said, "No matter how people are there when you die, when the end comes, you're all alone."

Turning, the spirit leaves the burial ceremony behind.

Bright and early for the daily races

Going nowhere

Throughout the city, people move on with their daily lives unaware of the life cut short. This is what he died for: a world that never accepted him and never cared; it branded him a hoodlum for no other reason than he had been born with bright hair. It was sad that he had paid the ultimate price and not a single thing had changed. The world remained as it always had been: stagnant. He would only be remembered as an outsider, with no hope of salvation.

Their tears are filling up their glasses

No expression

The members of the shop sit shell-shocked; a bottle of Kyoraku's most potent draft is passed around. Golden eyes dance around the room, the vibrant soul beneath obscured by an alcoholic glaze. No expression can be read on the other's faces. The brilliant green and white hat covers Kisuke's face as he drains shot after shot. His cheeks hold a blush from excessive mourning and alcohol. Tessai hides behind his bifocals. No one speaks, but Ichigo understands that this is their own version of honoring the dead. His hand falls from his mentor's shoulder as he turns to leave; the silent word of thanks never reaches the shop keeper's ears.

Hide my head

I want to drown my sorrows

No tomorrow

He turns and leaves, having said goodbye to almost everyone. Only she remains, but he doesn't believe he can confront her. It's so much easier to hide and drown his sorrows in whatever waits beyond. But there will be no tomorrow for saying goodbye, so he steps through the portal and comes face to face with the indigo eyes that haunt his mind even beyond the veil. She is standing beside two graves. Both hold his surname; one is accompanied by his first name; the other is the most important person in his life. Silent tears fall from both their cheeks as they stand so close, but eternally separated. Fate could be a twisted at times. His hands wrap around her for the first and last time in a goodbye embrace before he turns and descends into the shadows that will become his new life.

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles it's a very

Very Mad world

Mad world

There in the darkness he sees it—his life. It really does flash before his eyes. Like a dream rolling in fast forward, it maps out the sequence of events that shaped his existence. One event stands out—his hands grasp the cold steel of her katana as he looks into the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. The blade plunges into his chest, and white light erupts from the wound, enveloping the scene. It's kind of funny that a memory of him killing himself can bring a genuine smile to his lips. Then he sees the pattern of his life: a spiral of death, a mad dance of destiny that has enveloped him since his youth.

Children waiting for the day they feel good

Happy Birthday

The scene shifts, and he watches as a birthday party unfolds. A beautiful woman weaves in and out of a passel of children, smiling. A boy with violent hair stays close to her. His smile is the biggest. Around him the others seem to be singing. He recognizes one tomboy out of the group and smiles at his friend's youthful self.

And they feel the way that every child should

Sit and listen

They smile and play. Games fill the evening, and everyone is happy. Then the old man comes forward. His scruffy beard looks comical in its early stage, and he begins telling a story to the assembled children. The old man's words cast wondrous pictures upon their young imaginations. Their eyes glow in wonder as he speaks of grand adventures and fantastic worlds that never existed.

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me

The scene shifts again. It's the first day at school. He's so nervous. He clings to the beautiful woman's skirt. He begs her not to leave him. She just smiles and pushes him towards the door and another smiling lady. She motions for him to come, but he refuses to do so. He doesn't know these people, and they don't know him. He turns to grab his mom again, but she has already left. He knows he's being childish, but can't help it. Without her he has no courage—he is a coward.

Hello teacher

Tell me what's my lesson

Look right through me

High school was no better. The first day he was just another punk with dyed hair. He had a new sensei, but otherwise nothing else has changed. The lesson begins and he's ignored as if he couldn't have anything to contribute. They all look right through him. Only the gentle giant to his left understands. It's the same for him. Only guys wanting to fight ever look their way. Everyone else believes the rumors, and who could blame them. So he just lets them keep looking. They could see what they wanted, but before it was over, he'd show them just who he really was.

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles it's a very

Very

Mad world

Enlarge your world

Mad World

The scene shifts one last time. He flings himself forward between her and the enemy's blade. The black steel of his Bankai slides easily into the bastard's chest, impaling him even as the cold steel claims his own life. He remembers the time Byakuya told him he was slow even in falling, and can't help but concede that fact. The stoic noble had been right. The world moves in slow motion as he falls backwards the illusionist's blade piercing his chest. Next to him indigo eyes look on in horror, but only happiness fills him. Finally, he was able to protect someone, and it truly is the best memory he has.

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Inspired after watching Donnie Darko, and proofed by a good friend, W. M.