~The Great Divide~

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Although I can imagine several enjoyable scenarios if I had my way, sadly I must say that I do not own the characters of Bleach or any aspect of Bleach itself. I can only claim ownership over the OC I plan to appear in this story.

He watched her do a quick spin before the full length mirror, red dress feathering her pale calfs and dark hair brushing her neck and shoulders as she moved. He propped himself up slightly in the bed and lay on his right side to take in a better view.

"Awake at last?" She teased, stopping to face him.

He merely shrugged in reply. "I had a busy night."

She smiled playfully and spun to face the mirror again, hands on her hips, painted nails standing out against her pale skin. "So? What do you think?"

He took in a deep breath and held it as he narrowed his eyes at her, pretending to consider. He let it out in an explosive sigh and shook his head. "Nope."

She raised her eyebrows and shot him a challenging glance in the mirror. "No?"

"No." He confirmed, still shaking his head.

"Well, why?"

"Leaves far too much to the imagination."

"Of course it does! I can't meet your brother dressed like... like..."

"The outfit last night, however..." He interrupted.

"Pfft!" She tossed her head and walked across the room to the wardrobe. "Well, I like it, so nyeh."

The corners of his lips curled in a small smile. He loved being able to joke around with her like this in the mornings. Most of his past lovers would have taken offense the second he said no to the dress and left the conversation at that, but her carefree attitude and understanding of him made the fun possible. There was no denying that she understood him; sometimes he though she knew him more then he knew himself. But then again, he knew her pretty well to. At this stage, he could tell she was nervous despite outward appearances.

His brother was the only family left to him, and so obviously they were close and meant a lot to one another. He could tell she was gearing up for the best first impression she could muster. Usually she didn't care what people she didn't know thought of her, but even though she didn't say as much, he knew she was doing it for him. His brother was important to him, so she'd make sure he was important to her too.

"He'll hardly mind what you're wearing now. Men rarely take note of fashion unless it actually is leaving little to the imagination. And trust me, if he even looks at you sideways with that in mind..."

"You'll what? Punch him?"

"No..." He considered a moment before answering. "I'll tease him."

She frowned as she bent to retrieve her sandals from the bottom of the wardrobe. "Tease him?"

"Yeah. Cause I have it and he doesn't." He yawned and threw his legs out over the side of the bed, pulling himself into a sitting position.

"It??"

"Whoa!" He ducked swiftly, only narrowly avoiding the small red and white striped shoe sailing through the air straight for his head. It bounced off the wall and landed on the bed behind him. "You're not getting this back now!" He threatened, grabbing the thing.

"Oh really?" She smiled wickedly as she slowly crossed the room toward him. "I think I could manage it."

"How do you plan to do that?" He invited, sticking out his tongue and stuffing the shoe under the pillow beside him. Just on time, too, he thought, as she pounced on him, pushing him down on his back on the bed again, her black, silky hair cascading down over her shoulders and across his bare chest...

"WAKE UP!"

"Argh!" Stark cried out as a sharp pain spread out from his stomach, jerking him into a sitting position. He wrapped both arms around the attacked area and leaned forward, trying not to vomit.

"Faster, or I'll punch you again!" Lilinette stood before his bed of cushions, small but lethal fist raised to back up her threat.

"Eugh!" He choked. "I'm up!"

Lilinette promptly breathed on her knuckles and rubbed them on her shoulder. "Never fails!"

"What do you want??" He gasped, still catching his breath as his intestines returned to a comfortable position.

"Did you forget?" She crossed her arms and tilted her head to one side as he stared up at her blankly. "You forgot."

Stark frowned, trying to bring his sleepy mind back up to current events, the dream clouding his mind making it even more difficult. Most Hollows memory of their life in the real world disappeared once they became an Arrancar, but for some like Stark, some memories remained. Unluckily for him, his memories only served for painful reminiscing and a constant reminder of what caused his transformation from soul to hollow in the first place. Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to the present.

"Oh... yeah..."

"You have to leave for the real world in half an hour with the others. Doncha think you should be ready early-ish?"

The invasion, he reminded himself with a sigh. He'd wanted to catch a quick nap after he retrieved the red haired girl for Ulquiorra before he had to leave, but it looks like he'd slept longer than planned. He always did, he supposed.

He didn't have much enthusiasm for this invasion business. In fact, he didn't have much enthusiasm for anything Espada OR Arrancar related. He didn't deny that he lived in the past most of the time, craving the days when he was a mere Hollow, and even more so the days before that, when he lived and breathed in the real world. He spent most of the time cursing his strength, too. The strenght that had placed him as the Primera Espada, giving him duties and obligations he didn't ask for. He closed his eyes and scratched his forehead. Oh well. No use moping. Just get on with it.

He was so used to forcing himself to do Aizen's bidding like this at this stage, his reluctance was nothing new. It took Lilinette to do the forcing most of the time. He glanced murderously at her. It had taken a lot of getting used to Lilinette when he was transformed into an Arrancar. Arrancars, rather. No other Hollow had become two entities as he had when transformed, but then again, few of them became as strong as him too. He could always merge himself into one again in his release anyway.

Lilinette was the embodiment of his determination to keep moving, to keep living, somewhat. Even though he had little, he always thought there was some worth in keeping oneself going, and she made sure he did. What did that make him? The embodiment of his reluctance? His longing to go back to how things were? No wonder he was the stronger one. It still seemed strange to look in front of him and see part of himself incarnated this way, a small, rash-minded woman.

"Stop brooding and get moving, Stark." She huffed.

He sighed and rose, as he knew he wouldn't get peace until he did so. Ha, peace from myself, he laughed inwardly. He was glad that although they were the same person, always connected somewhat, they didn't share each others thoughts. He had no desire to share his real brooding, as he was chastised enough for sleeping and skipping out so much. He imagined he would be driven mad by constant pep-talks or something from her end, too, although he couldn't be sure.

"Do you remember her name, Lilinette?" He asked suddenly. He knew she would know who he was talking about.

"You were dreaming again." She stated, avoiding answering the question.

"Spare me the scolding. Just tell me, do you remember?" He looked down at her, towering above her now that he was standing.

She stared up at him for several moments before answering, her expression unreadable. "No."

He sighed again and thrust his hands into his pockets. "Didn't think so. Let's go."

If there was one thing that hurt the most about his remaining memories, it was the details that were left out. He couldn't even remember what the love of his life had been called, and he was greeted my a deep yet empty feeling of disappointment and pain every time he tried.

I do say, review please.