Author's Note: I don't think I need to go over the whole "I'm afraid of fic commitment" lecture again, yes? Well, anyway, yesterday night I was trying to think of some other topic to write about for my next one-shot - thanks to everyone who gave their suggestions in the reviews of my last one, keep the ideas coming! - and then this came to me. It's an interesting idea, and I have never read any other fics about it...although there may be some out there that exist...This didn't come out exactly as I had envisioned it in my mind, but it'll have to do. I hate the way I ended the fic, too, it sounds really dumb, so sorry about that. Anyway, hope you enjoy. And remember...keep fueling me with your reviews!

Don't Forget

by Open Casket Ceremony

Ichigo stared blankly at his bedroom wall.

He could no longer hear their voices, see their faces, feel their presences. He couldn't hold his hand in his own anymore. He couldn't reach down to brush the beautiful snow-white locks out of his face anymore. He couldn't take his small body in his arms and hold him close anymore.

It had been over a week since Kurosaki Ichigo had lost his shinigami powers.

And subsequently, because of that, he had lost all of his friends from Soul Society, people who had meant something to him.

Rukia, who had given him these powers in the first place.

Renji, who he often fought side-by-side with.

Matsumoto - and he would have to admit, he'd miss her trying to seduce her way into staying at his house for the night.

There were countless others, but he knew that there was one person he would miss more than any other.

Hitsugaya Toshiro. The first boy he had ever looked in the eyes and said "I love you" to.

It had been a long story as to how, exactly, his powers had been lost. He wasn't too sure how it had happened himself. He just remembered fighting Arrancar enemies. Blood had been everywhere, on his face, his hands, his clothes, his body. He had seen Hitsugaya a few yards away, looking to be in a real big pickle. Perhaps he was in even worse shape than the strawberry. He had pulled out all the stops, but everything seemed far from effective. He was near his limit, and Ichigo knew the young prodigy couldn't last much longer at this rate.

He was about to abandon his own fight to save his dearly beloved, but that was when he noticed something.

Aizen, too, had spotted the exhausted boy. With some kind of sick-minded interest, he took a step towards Hitsugaya, who seemed about ready to collapse. He continued walking, moving closer...closer...closer still.

Ichigo watched with his mouth opening and closing, trying to call out Hitsugaya's name, but no sound came out.

Aizen had finally reached his target, standing over the defenseless, helpless child prodigy, who was too weak to even throw a vulgar insult in the traitor's direction. With a smile of twisted amusement, he drew his zanpaku-to. It was clear he wanted to play with the defeated captain, to toy with him. To his last living moments ones filled with agony.

The strawberry had not been able to watch anymore.

Without even thinking, he had darted away from his own adversary, Zangetsu clutched in his hand as he threw himself in front of the severely wounded Hitsugaya. He then remembered releasing the strongest getsuga tenshou he had ever remembered swinging from his blade, then he couldn't see anything, and then he felt excruciating pain in his whole body. He heard Hitsugaya screaming out his name. He could feel himself falling from the sky.

And when he had regained conciousness, it didn't take him too long to realize that his shihakusho, Zangetsu, the soul reapers, and even Aizen and his Arrancar were all gone.

Hitsugaya had been there, in his gigai. He had slowly explained to Ichigo that, fortunately, the strawberry's wounds hadn't been too bad, and the fourth division had been able to patch him up, good as new. They couldn't say that the Gotei 13 had won the war quite yet - after some time, Aizen and his men had retreated back to Hueco Mundo. Unfortunately, however, somehow, in that moment he had attacked Aizen, because of the sheer volume of spiritual particles and the energy it had taken to use his getsuga tenshou, he had lost all of his powers as a soul reaper.

Not only that, but he didn't even have a shred of reiatsu left.

He wouldn't even be able to see or feel a single spirit anymore, let alone a shinigami.

And because of that, there was no way he could ever return to Soul Society again, or ever fight as a soul reaper again.

Hitsugaya had given him a rolled sheet of paper, explaining that it was a decree from the sotaichou, as well as Central 46.

From the moment he took the sheet in his own hands, Ichigo knew that it could not be good news. He was still in shock and confusion about the announcement that he had lost his powers, and he didn't know what could be worse. Slowly, he unrolled the sheet and, swallowing hard, clenched his hands and read it out loud.

Due to recent events and conditions, former subsitute shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo will no longer be able to carry out the duties of a Soul Reaper, and therefore, is no longer one. As such, any further relation with Kurosaki Ichigo will be of no use to the Gotei 13 and Soul Society as a whole. Thus, henceforth, all members of the Gotei 13 are hereby forbidden to make any more contact with Kurosaki Ichigo in the real world unless otherwise notified.

He looked at Hitsugaya, and then grimly back to the sheet.

"So this means we can't see each other anymore, doesn't it?"

Hitsugaya seemed on the verge of tears at this point, but he was fighting them back, and doing one hell of a damn good job of it.

"Toshiro, I-"

"That is all, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya cut him off in a voice barely above a whisper. Then, he turned away, and when Ichigo blinked, he was gone.

So here Ichigo was now, staring sullenly at his blank bedroom wall. He continued to stare, his hands curling into fists. Teeth gritted viciously in frustration, he pounded his fist into his pillow. Why did this have to happen to him? Why? He was angry, frustrated, beyond depressed - a jumbled mix of emotions that made him want to vomit.

But he was not the only one suffering.

Like any normal day, life went on as usual.

Hitsugaya, as was typical of him on a weekday, was sitting in his painfully empty office, filling out paperwork in the usual monotonous routine. He knew that Ichigo's loss of powers had been his fault. If the strawberry hadn't jumped over to save his ass, then he still would have his shinigami powers. And he would still have the life that mattered more to him than the one in real world.

With a sigh, the young captain set down his pen, rubbing his temples.

It had been over a week since he had been given the grim assignment of telling Ichigo of his fate - and the guilt was still strong. Even worse was the knowledge that he was to never see his lover again.

He knew that the average soul, once delivered to Soul Society, did not feel hunger or great pain. But the special ones did.

And he wondered, as his hand moved slowly to his chest until it was directly over his heart, if it really was supposed to hurt so badly there, too. His fingers tightened around the fabric of his kimono until slowly, he let his hand drop back to the desktop.

Another sigh echoed around the lonely office.

He stared blankly at the paperwork in front of him. It seemed pointless to him now.

In fact, Hitsugaya was expecting Ichigo to burst through the office door and interrupt the silence like he always did. He would have never believed that he would ever miss his loud, obnoxious voice, pestering him to take a break from the administrative work and spend some time with him outdoors.

Usually, he relished the silence, but now, it was too painful to bear.

Other soul reapers had noticed Hitsugaya's change in behavior. Sure, he was always cold, but he had never been uninterested. And now, more than ever, he seemed to take everything with an apathetic attitude.

In hopes to cheer him up, Ukitake had been sending more candy baskets than usual. Needless to say, they had little effect and usually went straight to the garbage. Even Kurotsuchi Mayuri had seemed a little more sympathetic than usual - if at all - even if his only way of trying to offer his condolences was to offer the prodigy a job as his test subject - and he promised to be super-gentle. Also needless to say, this offer hadn't been met with much enthusiasm.

He heard the door opening, and without even bothering to put on a poker face to hide the fact that he had, for the past days, been very depressed, looked up to see who his visitor at this time in the afternoon happened to be.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-taichou..."

"Hisagi...?"

Indeed, Shuuhei Hisagi had strolled into the office, bottle of sake tucked under one arm. He glanced at the haggard young captain before clearing his throat uncomfortably, wondering if he had come in at a bad time.

"Is...Is Rangiku-san here?" he asked.

Hitsugaya shook his head. "No," he answered sullenly, "She's out and about...to who knows where."

"Then who am I supposed to share this with?" he wondered aloud, glancing at the sake in his hand.

Hitsugaya went right on back to his paperwork, continuing to fill each sheet out as if Shuuhei was made of air. He frankly didn't care whether or not the fukutaichou of the ninth division had a drinking buddy or not, and he didn't have it in him to ask him to leave. He trusted that he could excuse himself from the office.

Instead of leaving like Hitsugaya expected him to, however, Shuuhei cautiously approached the white-haired captain.

"What is it?" he muttered without looking up, "You don't have to wait for me to tell you to do so before you leave, you know."

"Look, Hitsugaya-taichou...I heard about what happened with Kurosaki Ichigo and everything..."

"Is that so?" Hitsugaya demanded sharply, suddenly annoyed, "And what's it to you, Hisagi?"

It was silent before Shuuhei quietly placed his hand on top of Hitsugaya's in a gesture of sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou."

"I don't need your sympathy," Hitsugaya answered stiffly before pulling his hand away, "Leave."

"I understand." Without another word, Shuuhei stood, giving the moody captain a final glance before heading for the door, his footsteps echoing eerily around the otherwise silent office. Nothing would be of use to lift the boy genius' dampened spirits at this point, but the least he could do for him, he thought, was let him take his mind off of it for a while. He turned around, facing the captain again.

"Hitsugaya-taichou...would you like to have a drink with me?"

At this moment, forgetting, even if for a few hours, seemed like a much-needed getaway for the usually uptight Hitsugaya. The white-haired boy looked at Shuuhei, then to the bottle of sake in his hand. He was desperate to stop feeling this guilt and heartbreak. He was absolutely desperate.

"...I will."

Even more time had passed since he had lost his powers and since he had last seen Hitsugaya.

Ichigo, like normal, returned to school every day and tried to get on with life. But he couldn't forget those emerald eyes or that snow-white hair, even more so the pretty face and chilly voice. And it hurt even more to see Orihime and Chad dash off without him in the middle of class to get rid of a hollow, that he himself couldn't even see or feel anymore.

Orihime, Chad, and even the stony Ishida could all tell that Ichigo wasn't himself anymore. They could do little more than offer a comforting word or two or bring him out for a night of heavy partying to take his mind off of things.

And, like normal life required, at this moment, the strawberry was sitting in his desk, absently watching the teacher as she explained the day's lesson. He wasn't even listening anymore. It just didn't seem to matter.

The bell rang, and with a sigh, he stood, picking up his things and wordlessly leaving the classroom.

Walking down the school halls and out into the schoolyard was painful.

It made him remember the time when Hitsugaya and the others had come to his school from Soul Society to help with the Arrancar situation. It had also been the first time he had really gotten to know the kid.

With another sigh, he looked longingly up at the sky.

All he saw were clouds.

Nothing special. Just clouds, and the blue sky.

He exhaled again and redirected his attention to the area in front of him.

Only to find that his vision of the road ahead was being completely blocked by someone.

Said "someone" proceeded to grab Ichigo by the shoulders. "We need to talk," came a familiarly feminine voice as he was dragged off to an alley on the side where there would be at least a little bit of privacy from the outside world.

"R-Rangiku-san?"

Indeed, Matsumoto stood in front of him, in her gigai, her arms crossed over her large chest, a grim expression on her face.

"Talk?" Ichigo asked, confused, "Talk about what?"

"About taichou."

The mention of Hitsugaya sent a small hoarde of butterflies in Ichigo's stomach. He missed him that much.

"H-Hold on a second," the strawberry demanded, holding out a hand, "I thought you guys weren't supposed to communicate with me. I thought it wasn't allowed or something...so why are you here?"

"You're right, it's not allowed," Matsumoto answered.

"Then why are you-"

"That's 'cause it's an emergency," the tenth-division fukutaichou whined, grabbing onto Ichigo's shoulders with considerable force. "Ever since you lost your powers, taichou's been really moody, and weird, and not himself at all! I'm kind of getting worried myself...Nowadays, he slacks off on the paperwork, pretends he's sick to ditch captain's meetings - except sometimes, he has sort of an excuse to not go 'cause most mornings, he's completely hung over!"

"H-Hung over!?" the ex-subsitute shinigami spluttered, horrified.

"Yeah!" Matsumoto answered in a near shout, "He drinks even more than I do nowadays! It's insane! He'll drink with anyone who asks him to...Shuuhei, Kyoraku-taichou, Renji...even me if I ask nicely...and he's...he's just lost it...He sleeps around with random guys pretty much every day - after he's done drinking with them, of course, and you know how it is! Taichou's pretty, so anyone wouldn't mind getting in his pants, even for just one night! You won't believe who's been fucking him these days..."

Ichigo winced at the crude words, even more so the thought of his precious ice prince with another man - or even, men. Hitsugaya had never been like this before. He had never been so out-of-control. And it hurt to know that it was because of him that he was doing this to himself.

"...And...and anyway, the point is, you've got to do something about it, or who knows what he'll do next! Nothing I say to him seems to get through anymore, not even Hinamori or his grandmother can do anything about it! I...I just don't know how to help him anymore!"

The orange-haired teen was quiet for a moment.

"...What do you expect me to do, Rangiku-san?" he asked quietly, "There's nothing I can do. And isn't it obvious? Toshiro...He...He's trying to forget about me. And I've been trying to forget about him."

"Forget!?" Matsumoto shouted, her voice feverish, "Forget!? Ichigo-kun, how could you want to forget about him!? Does taichou really mean that little to you!? You have no idea how guilty he feels! He thinks it's his fault that you lost your powers! Do you love him, or not!?"

"I do," Ichigo answered in a low voice, "I do. More than he realizes. But there's nothing I can do. If you'll excuse me, Rangiku-san. I have to get home. My sisters will wonder where I am."

"I...I'll give you my powers!" Matsumoto spluttered wildly, "Take them! I don't want them if taichou's going to be like that for the rest of his life!"

"Rangiku-san..."

"Ichigo-kun, please. There is nothing more taichou wants in the world than to be able to be with you again!"

"Rangiku-san, I can't. I can't do that to you."

"Then what will you do!? Let taichou destroy himself!?"

Ichigo shook his head.

"Then what? What's the plan?"

"...I'll get to Soul Society with the only way I can."

And then, turning away, Ichigo clenched his fists and stepped into the street with the busy urban traffic headed straight for him.

The End.