A/N: This is a friendship fic, dedicated to the other half of my soul.

It is also the second stand-alone one-shot in my "Soul Halves" collection, which began with "Handprints in the Rain."

Soul Halves: Shaolin

I seem to remember meeting someone as if in a dream—she left before I truly woke up. We didn't look that much a like, so we couldn't be called sisters, but I think I might have wished that we were.

The stars were so bright, they burned fires into my still-young eyes—how long has it been? I can still see the imprint of that sky with its heavy, full moon and the blossoms of those trees glowing in the ethereal light when I close my eyes.

But my eyes are shut now. What is wrong with me?

I seem to remember a face—one that I have not seen in many, many years. But that must be part of the dream. She always leaves before I wake up.

Always.

Where am I?

The grass is pliant beneath my fingers, and I seem to remember a clearing, so like that one long ago, the one where I lost half my soul.

Sometimes, friendship is transcendent. It doesn't understand differences or strength or bias or impossibilities or even age. It goes beyond all of those things to relentlessly forge a bond that can become unbreakable.

And if you're lucky, you'll realize that someone isn't just a friend—they're the other half of your soul.

All that talk about soul mates—there might be someone out there that matches your soul, but you have to realize that your soul is not truly your own. Your "soul mate" has to match you and your soul fusion.

Fusion: Amicus usque ad aras—A friend in spite of all differences; a friend to the last extremity.

The person you'll end up with—they'll have to deal with both of you, somehow. Because that friend is bound into your being.

I wish that I had woken up before she left. I'm sure she is that fusion of my soul, and it disturbs me that we never got to share that unity for as long as we might have—why did she leave?!

I'm clenching my fists; confused against the sudden pain of suppressed memories—

Shaolin.

My name was. . .Shaolin.

I gave it up for her. She was supposed to be the goddess, the untouchable, the princess, the object of "devotion."

I didn't even know she had feelings.

But again, friendship transcends everything.

All the rage, the bitterness of a century without the other half of me to lean on, to depend on, to protect, to help—comes rushing back, my skin remembers the tightness it has acquired slowly, the stars of that clearing suddenly burn bright into eyes that are nearly bracketed by creases, but not quite yet—comes rushing back, and I know who I am again, I know who she is.

Yoruichi is back. And I—as foolish as I am—didn't want to let her back in.

My eyes flutter open, half-expecting to see her there—I never told her what my soul's name was. Maybe that's why she didn't understand that two halves of one soul cannot stay separate for so long without devastating consequences.

Maybe she thought I wouldn't approve of that goof, Urahara Kiskue? That's ridiculous. Of course I approved, and she probably never needed my approval, and it hurts too much to think that she would abandon her one true friend just for some guy.

Maybe I'm being selfish. There are times when we all have to move on. I just thought that we'd be able to move on together, I always thought that.

I reluctantly blink, seeing a reflection of the stars in my mind wheeling in the sky above me.

What happened?

I seem to remember the jagged fragments of bestial light crackling around us in an arc—the stings of my sword painting pictures on her face and arms just as her lightning did on mine.

Then the rage shifts—I don't know why, but I guess I understand somehow—there is something bigger going on here than just us, tonight.

And somehow—somehow, I've already forgiven her.

"Yoruichi?" I rasp, trying to remember how that name felt on my tongue. I seem to remember saying it in the midst of the electric, asinine energy that befits neither of us, but it did not taste like this. Before I tasted the bitter coarseness of pain and regret; now I taste something half-remembered, almost forgotten.

Completeness and comfort lie there on my tongue. Regeneration.

She is the only one who understands me, and I know I am the only one she truly trusts.

There is rain falling, gently, brushing softly against my cheeks. Since when was I so sentimental? I thought I had grown into a hard-bitten, blood-thirsty, unfeeling, ruthless—

The cycle has come full circle, like the rain that decides to come down, again, and again and again, and we are together again, like the once-scattered raindrops, and that is, I realize, all that matters.

I guess I didn't become as much of an automaton as I thought.

"I lied," I tell her, sensing her there, suddenly grinning, sitting up, rubbing my face, trying to remember why there are streaks of dirt on my cheeks—

I'd cried. Ha.

I turn to look at her, futilely scrubbing the tear tracks away. She grins back at me, and suddenly I see the years' toll on her too, like I hadn't while we were fighting, and know that she had to have suffered as much as I—

We're suddenly holding each other, and a sob wracks through her body. I'm spent. I merely comfort her, although neither of us is proud of what we have done.

She eventually pulls back, and nothing is left of her tears, besides little raindrops. She's puzzled. "You what?"

"I lied." I'm still grinning, my soul suddenly filling again, knowing that she hadn't abandoned me, that we were still of one being. "The first time you asked me a question, I lied."

"I don't even remember what the question was," Yoruichi growls, straightening her vibrant hair as I rock back on my heels. "But maybe that's why this happened to us. I lied too."

Yoruichi bows her head, and I'm not sure what I should expect. "I wanted a little sister," she mutters. "But I didn't want one I had to take care of. I wanted one who would be able to take care of things for me."

"To clean up your mess?" I ask, although I'm still not sure of the real reason of her return, what she actually did.

She smiles crookedly, "I wanted you to be capable, but yes, maybe to clean up my messes. This particular one—"

"Let's go."

"What do you mean?" Yoruichi looks stunned, but I'm not sure why. After all, I did tell her how I felt before I passed out. I told her that she shouldn't have left me, because she had been my friend, my only real one.

"I said, let's go. From the sound of it, we can still fix this mess." I stand up, wishing I didn't ache from the ridiculous fight we had earlier. Whatever Yoruichi has cooked up this time, I should be in top shape to face.

Predictable.

"But—"

I take off, knowing she will follow. "You can explain on the way," I call back.

She's beside me in a mere moment, her flash just as good as ever. I wonder if she can flash while she's a cat? Is that how she practices without anyone noticing?

I can see the gratitude in her eyes as she flicks water out of her bangs. And the acceptance. At last, she too understands. Her eyes are soft in the warmth radiating form our shared soul, and I know she knows, but, of course, she won't let it go and still asks, "And what was your lie?"

"My name," I whisper, reluctant even now—I see her eyes light up, I am giving her the only gift I truly have, she knows I was supposed to forget this name in order to serve her, but this is the last piece of rediscovering our identity, of re-knitting our souls— "is Shaolin."

A/N: In the anime, Soi Fon's name was Shaorin. In the manga it is Shaolin. So I changed it from the original title XD.

And I don't believe in yuri with these two, so I took liberty with their words and actions, lol.

I don't own the Latin, or the Bleach. And if you guys believe in praying, please pray for my soul-half, Ryanna, who is pregnant and too young to be so. So just pray she gets through it safely and will be able to give up her baby to another family without too many tears.

Much too hasty, but please review. Shunsui and Ukitake are up next!!!!!!!

Conterra-hime