Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Warnings: Spoilers for the manga. Deathfic.

A large crowd turned up at his funeral. It was a surprise, considering Kurosaki Ichigo was definitely not a well-liked person in school. Still, almost everyone came, although more curious than aggrieved. The only truly sad faces were those of Asano Keigo, Kojima Mizuiro and Arisawa Tatsuki, who was currently on her knees, next to the dead boy's sisters, all three of them weeping copiously. Her best friend Inoue Orihime was standing over them, a dazed expression on her face. She ignored everyone who tried to speak to her, and her tears flowed continuously, as if they had a life of their own. She made no effort to wipe them away.

Yes, these were the only people who mourned for the dead boy- his family, his few friends, and the tenderhearted Inoue Orihime. No one noticed, or cared that both the class bookworm Ishida Uryuu and tough guy Sado Yasutora watched the proceedings not impassively, but with pained expressions that spoke of deep grief. And above all, no one looked at the small transfer student Kuchiki Rukia, who stood far away to a side, an absolutely blank look on her face.

--

For her, it seemed like eons had passed since their return from Hueco mundo. A lucky escape, everyone had said, since it was only because of the combined efforts of the exiled captains who took on Aizen and his underlings and of Urahara who managed to break open another path to Hueco mundo. Aizen had left quite a trap, leaving Yammi who was supposed to be so very weak when he was in fact the deadliest one among the Espada. By the time Urahara had broken through, the damage was already done, most of the captains severely injured, panic and confusion reigning supreme.

And Ichigo was dead.

She did not see him die; Yammi had knocked her out in less than a minute. When she had come to, there was blood everywhere, and everyone seemed to be shouting a dozen different instructions all at once. Vaguely, she wondered what all the 4th squad members were doing there. Strong hands supported her when she tried to get up, and she noticed that it was a badly injured Renji. "Oh thank god you're okay." she had muttered, not registering the unusually grave look on the redhead's face. "Come on Rukia," he had urged, helping her stand "We have to leave, fast. The path is clear." She had tried to protest, but he shrugged all her objections aside with a sharp "Hurry up Rukia. The others will follow."

Out on the other side, she had watched people arrive in ones and twos- her brother, who was heavily injured, Mayuri-taicho with his lieutenant, an almost dead Chad on a stretcher carried by two 4th squad members. "Where's Ichigo?" she had asked no one in particular, her eyes glued to the portal. No one answered her. When she saw Ishida enter, with the unconscious Inoue in his arms, she had asked again, worry rising "Renji, where's Ichigo?" Her former best friend had placed his hands on her shoulders, and had said in a shaky voice "Look Rukia… Rukia…you see…" She had sensed something was seriously wrong. "What's the matter?" she had almost screamed, panicking "Tell me now!" He had swallowed "He's dead."

Dead, dead, dead. Ichigo was dead.

Dimly, she had heard voices around her speak.

"I couldn't believe it myself…"

"I know, I mean, this was the guy who destroyed the Sokyouku!"

"Even Inoue Orihime couldn't revive him…"

"We had hard time trying to drag her away, she was so hysterical…"

And through it all, she had watched Inoue revive, and start sobbing wildly. Ishida was next to her, but made no efforts to quiet her. He had only watched her sadly as she collapsed on the ground holding her head in her hands "He's dead! Why did you bring me back, Ishida-kun? I should've died there! My place was there! How can I live without him? He's dead because of me!"

Dead, dead, dead. Ichigo was dead. Really dead.

She had expected the tears to flow, but none came. Instead, all she felt was an unbelievable rage that had made her want to pull Inoue up by her hair and slap her. She had wanted to scream at her that it was all her fault that Ichigo had died. She had wanted to slit Renji's throat for not telling her what had happened instead of leading her away. Above all, she wanted to kill herself for not being able to protect someone so important to her, so important to everyone. Yes, it was anger she felt; she did not deserve the consolation of a single tear.

--

And no tears came even now, at his funeral. She watched the crowd melt slowly into the evening. Only Inoue had approached her when she was leaving, supporting an exhausted Tatsuki. She had flung her arms around Rukia, and had whispered in a strained voice "I'm sorry, Kuchiki-san. It's my fault. I killed him." Her tears had melted into Rukia's hair. Rukia knew what she was feeling, and deep down she knew it was not her fault. And Inoue needed to hear those words. Yet she felt incapable of saying them. She could not even bring herself to hug her, to dry her tears, or to do any of the things she knew she must do.

Instead, she abruptly disengaged herself and ran, not caring where she was headed.

--

Night came, and Rukia found herself at the grave again. Tomorrow, she knew, she would be given orders to return to Soul Society. Aizen had only retreated for the time being, and heaven only knew what his next move would be. Besides, her brother had urged her, not unkindly, to return. She knew he was only looking out for her, he had known bereavement himself, and did not want her to spend all her time pining.

Her side resting on the gravestone, Rukia had laughed bitterly. Nii-sama did not apparently know that there exists an incredible attraction in thinking about the things that hurt you the most. That the only thing that seems worth doing is draining your heart's blood out with the memories. And when you feel that there is no more blood left, you search your mind for more memories- you recall every conversation, every look, every touch. And your tired mind responds by bleeding some more, each time more deeply than before. To the point that existence seems possible only in that unimaginable pain.

She laughed again, alone, at the cold white stars that seemed to frown disapprovingly at her, just like Nii-sama did. He thought he was protecting her. Protecting her? Somehow it seemed ludicrously funny to her, the thought that anyone else could think of protecting her, now that Ichigo was no longer around. She laughed hysterically, falling on the smooth cold stone of the grave, choking on her own saliva. Ichigo was deep inside the earth now, his flesh rotting, and soon there would be only his bones left. That struck her as funny too, and she continued screaming with helpless laughter, her screeches echoing into the silent night.

And abruptly, she felt someone lift her off the grave, with a shaky "Come away, child." She swiveled around, to meet the sad gaze of Isshin. She would never think of him as Kurosaki-san again, that name belonged to Ichigo. "Rukia," he said, his voice low "Come away, let's go home." He was in his Shinigami outfit, and this was the second time she was seeing him in it. The first time was the night Ichigo died; he was questioning Urahara when she spotted him, but it had not been a surprise. It was like a little part of her had always known.

"Home?" she now questioned "What home?"

He stared at her for a second, then sighed deeply and took a step forward. "I know you are hurting" he said, extending a hand to her, "Come home, Rukia-chan. I told you that you are like a daughter to me, regardless of what happens."

Something inside shattered at the words, and before she knew it, she was screaming at him "Why should I? Thinking of replacing him with me?" Her rational self told her she was talking nonsense, but she paid it no heed. "You're the last person I ever want to see! you… you disgusting coward!" she spat. Isshin did not move, nor did his expression change. This infuriated her more.

"YOU ARE A SHINIGAMI AS WELL! WHAT WERE YOU DOING WHEN HE NEEDED YOU? WHAT SORT OF A FATHER ARE YOU?"

"Rukia-chan…" he said, his voice pleading.

"Making your own son feel responsible for his mother's death wasn't enough for you? What were you doing when she was dying???" she continued, attacking him relentlessly, "IT'S YOU! IT'S YOUR FAULT HE'S DEAD! IT'S YOUR FAULT, MAKING HIM FEEL RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY, TO THE POINT WHERE HE COULDN'T BEAR THE BURDEN ANYMORE! YOU KILLED HIM, YOU MONSTER!!!"

"Stop it, Rukia-chan… you don't mean it all" he reasoned. She ignored his plea, and rushed blindly towards him. "I'll kill you" she whispered, aiming her most powerful kidou spell at him. It missed, and once again she heard him plead "Stop it, child. Stop torturing yourself." Undaunted she aimed another spell at him.

The world went black soon after.

The stars were still shining when she woke. And all was quiet. She felt the remains of a healing spell in her gigai, and realized that her kidou must have backfired. It had never happened before. "You're awake" Isshin's quiet voice reached her and she turned to look at him sitting a little away from her, on a rock. She looked away, and once again turned her attention to the stars, the only things that seemed constant in this world. "You see, I believed I had no choice" Isshin said, after a long, empty silence.

He was right. Even if they could turn back time, everyone would have made the same choices. The result would have been the same. People like Ichigo were like the shining sun, bringing life and hope to all around them, in the short time that they lived. He had touched people's lives in a way she had never dreamed of.

While she… she was like a firefly, noticed by few, and useful to none. And yet, she survived, and would continue to survive, while a hundred suns would come up and fade away during that time.

She made no answer, but inside, she was mortified by her actions.

What was I thinking, attacking his father like that?

"The dead fight no battles, Rukia-chan" he said, "No amount of abuse you hurled at me would have prompted him to return and defend me." Ichigo was dead, really dead. He didn't care anymore. Tears came to her eyes, long-delayed ones. "I apolo-"

"Don't" he cut her off, his hand raised in a gesture of defeat. "You were right." he said, his voice thick.

No I wasn't, she wanted to say. There was nothing anyone could have done.

"From tomorrow, we'll all have to start readying ourselves for the war with Aizen again," he continued "So tonight, my wounded little Rukia; let those tears fall unhindered"

Author's note: I may have gone over the angst line, but this fic was eating away at me till I wrote it. Please read and review!