AN: This is a tad dark, with hinted IchiRuki. Special thanks to QuelZune for being a great beta! (And I don't own Bleach.)
Again
It was a shame he didn't have his spirit abilities.
It wasn't too hard to bear- difficult at first, maybe. A bit annoying at times.
But slowly, he faded back into the typical human existence. He left behind the battles and duels, merging back into the mass known as human society. The living world.
Everything went back to 'normal', though it still seemed strange and foreign to him. He endured the new lifestyle patiently, finally learning to be entirely content with his surroundings. He still talked to his human friends and kept in touch. Every once in a while, they would sympathize with one another. Their bonds never broke, despite everything they had faced together. He didn't lose his Shinigami comrades, either, as they seemed to enjoy visiting the living world far too much. It wasn't something he'd ever admit, but secretly he always looked forward to their coming. Some more then others.
He said he didn't miss the power, the strength, or the abilities. But that was a lie.
Sometimes he wished he could see spirits again. Sometimes he walked down to the park, wondering if a ghost was sitting off to the side, watching him. Maybe even pleading for help. There could be a Hollow coming down the street at that very moment, intent on the devouring the soul. He had no way of knowing anymore, and that was the most aggravating part of his new life. He was entirely powerless. He could do nothing. Against even the weakest of Hollows, he was more of a hindrance then a help in defeating the ravaging monsters. Even Kon was a more effective fighter- a fact that did not escape Ichigo's notice.
Slowly he resigned himself to it, contemplated it, and accepted it.
Or so he thought.
Despite all his resolutions, despite accepting his fate and the lack of power he possessed, all of it came crashing down in that single moment. As the rain continued to fall, plastering his hair to his head and soaking him through, the world seemed to fade out of focus. He couldn't feel the hard rain dripping down onto his face, rolling down his cheeks, mixing with tears that flowed from his eyes like blood from a wound. He couldn't blink, finding himself continually staring with wide eyes, his mind frozen with shock, fear, and other kinds of anguish he couldn't contemplate. He couldn't feel the wet pavement underneath as he lay out on the ground, or the unforgiving coldness that surrounded him, biting at his skin. The rain was back, and it clawed at his heart with crushing force.
He couldn't see the petite, raven-haired Shinigami standing protectively in front of him, shouting his name, while fending off the hollow looming above. He couldn't sense the urgency and worry that laced her voice, as she desperately called for him. He could only stare with wide eyes, as he started to tremble.
Suddenly he was a child again, watching helplessly as history repeated itself, the old memory of his mother suddenly renewed, though different in one important aspect. He tried to say her name, though it came in a choked whisper. Rukia's form lay motionless on top of him, her hair falling limply onto his shoulder and neck. The blood that covered her small body mixed with the relentless rain, coursing into the nearby puddles and staining them red.
He had failed... Again.