Just something that came to mind one day. I'll just post it up here for a month or so to see if it get any reviews and if it doesn't, I'll understand that you guys don't like it and delete it.
Don't own Bleach!
_STORY START_
Rain fell from the sky that day. It wasn't a light rain or a brief sprinkle; it was a downpour the likes that hadn't been viewed in this dimension in decades. Like Zangetsu, Ichigo hated the rain, it seemed to only weigh people down when they needed strength the most. Like he did. Ichigo stood as still as he could as the pallbearers lifted a casket into the ground, although if you were to put your hand on his shoulder you would feel him shaking uncontrollably. His eyes lifted from the coffin to Kuukaku Shiba crying on the shoulder of Byakuya Kuchiki, while he swore he could she a few tears on Byakuya's face as well. Most of the captains made the ceremony in their best clothing, to honor the dead. Soi Fon was absent.
Ichigo sighed and adjusted his suit. It was a long, black, double-breasted coat with a dark blue undershirt and a pair of special boots he took out of the back of his closet just for this occasion; in his opinion, he looked like a aristocrat from the 1700s. But Rukia had insisted he wear them, and he did.
For her.
Most of the captains were staring at him, confused at how undisturbed he was at her death, despite how close the two soul reapers appeared. His face looked as if it was carved of stone.
The funeral soon ended and almost every mourner left to the Kuchiki Estate to mourn privately. Ichigo was the last one standing in front of her grave almost an hour later, he kneeled down into the fresh soil and caressed the tombstone as if it was alive. His head drooped and he felt worse than he probably had ever felt in his life.
"I know I couldn't protect you, but I promise I'll make it right..." He mumbled.
A man approached Ichigo from his side with one hand in his pocket and the other holding two shovels. He wore a blue tuxedo with a sand-colored duster over it. His face was obscured behind a heavy-looking steel mask with curly, blonde hair that reached his chest.
"Ready, mate?" The man asked with a British accent.
Ichigo stood up and caught a shovel that was tossed to him. "Ready as I'll ever be." He said as he drove the shovel into the ground.
As the two men burrowed through the fresh ground in the pouring rain the name on the tombstone was mostly covered by the earth they expelled from their way, but as the grave robbers made off with the casket to a nearby portal, the name of the deceased in question was displayed clearly in large, gold letters:
YORUICHI SHIHOUIN
_CHAPTER END_
CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM WELCOME! NO FLAMES! If you think it sucks, keep it to yourself.