Created: 10/08/10

Edited: 2/6/13

Author's Note: Tite Kubo's Ch. 423 did a number on my emotional state a couple years ago. I've always enjoyed the dynamics of Ichigo and Rukia's relationship so in the heat of the moment I wrote this baby up. I wanted to attempt and get some of Ichigo's thoughts across so hopefully I did it justice. This was written back in 2010 and as I was shifting through some old Word documents I rediscovered this little treasure and decided to give it a good polishing and now I'm reposting. By the way, Warning: Spoilers for Bleach Ch. 423.

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo, I make no profit from this and blah blah blah. I write and mess with the wonderful universe of Bleach just for my own entertainment.

[Emptiness]

"…Can I go outside?"

Kurosaki Ichigo stepped into the brisk air of Karakura Town. Everything was silent and unmoving. It unnerved the bright-haired teen. His tired eyes looked out across the city he had given so much to protect. Everything felt so unreal. There was no spiritual pressure. Nothing. Nit. Nada. It was like a dream – no, a nightmare. He felt numb…empty.

The emptiness seemed to expand tenfold. This was really it. His powers were gone. He was…normal. Che. As if he could ever be considered normal.

That's when he felt it – a faint spiritual pressure. His heart jumped as he searched for the only connection he had left to the spiritual world he'd become so utterly immersed in.

The excitement surging through his veins came to an abrupt halt when his brain registered exactly what the faint spiritual pressure was. Ichigo's head dropped when he realized why he didn't immediately recognize the reiatsu that he should have been able to discern without a second thought. A reiatsu even his shitty sensing abilities could always—without fail—pick out above all the others. It was diminishing and was almost unrecognizable now.

Rukia.

Ichigo saw her tiny delicate feet first as his eyes gradually rose to meet hers. He knew his expression was off, but it was difficult to force his face into conveying nonchalance when he had no idea what it should look like in this situation. He felt so…conflicted. Suddenly the weight of losing his Shinigami powers and what that actually entailed slammed into him with a force that rivaled one of Goat-face's deadliest good morning kicks.

Rukia would disappear.

Her deep violet orbs were searching his face, a sharp calculating gleam to them. Violet met amber and Ichigo saw her face relax into an accepting, if not yearning, look. Her eyes seemed to reach out to him. The moment he saw her face transform he felt a twin reaction ensue, his features relaxing as he met her penetrating gaze head on.

They had always been like this. An understanding on a level he couldn't begin to fathom. He understood, she understood. That was the only analysis they needed.

A goodbye would be said today. Forever.

Ichigo felt his stomach clench and begin twisting painfully. He couldn't even comprehend the fact that he…he would never see her again. Never again hear her unsympathetic voice berating him for something insubstantial. Never feel her frighteningly strong kick to his shins that was purely Rukia. Never again. This strange pain began to spread throughout his body in different forms. The feeling of numbness had yet to leave him, his chest was tight, a lump had formed in his throat, and there was a strange burning building behind his eyes.

But he could not show these weaknesses. Not now. Not yet.

"This is farewell, Ichigo," Rukia said. Her tone was light and succeeded in bringing him out of the internal ruminations that threatened to throw him off the deep end. But he could also hear the strain in her voice. A soft smile spread across her lips. Ichigo refrained from blinking in surprise. Smiling wasn't something he thought he could manage right now—not that he ever made an effort to smile, but still.

The smile was sad, but it was genuine. His facial muscles reacted to hers without his permission, mirroring the surreal expression. He allowed the rare smile to stretch across his lips. She'd always been able to bring out the best in him—but not before she brought out the worst—and if she wanted a smile, he'd sure as hell give her one.

"…Seems so." There was so much he wanted to say but the words evaded him. He'd never been good at heart-to-hearts anyway…or been eloquent in general. Rukia would know anything he'd want to say. Time was short after all. The faint spiritual pressure (that he was still having trouble reconciling as Rukia's) was steadily decreasing by the second.

So, instead of trying to spew out a coherent sentence of mushy sentiments she already knew, he let the smile on his face convey all the meaning he could muster into the one facial expression he used the least. They'd never needed words. Bittersweet was a word that came to mind, though. It was almost cruel, seeing Rukia again only to have her ripped away instantly the second he laid eyes on her. He couldn't tell if it was a blessing to see her one last time or a curse. Part of him was yelling that this would just make everything hurt exponentially worse. Regardless, he was glad to see her. He'd take what he could get and deal with the consequences later.

"What?" Rukia smirked unexpectedly, her body language shifting dramatically. "Don't look so sad. Even if you can no longer see me, I can still see you." Her arms were crossed over her chest as her eyes danced mischievously.

Inwardly he wanted to laugh at such an absurd statement. That was more than a little creepy…but then again he shouldn't be surprised, this was Rukia. Outwardly he shook his head and scowled, letting the banter he'd always enjoyed continue – one last time.

"What?" he spluttered. "That doesn't make me feel happy at all!" He scratched the side of his head and glanced to the side before barking out, "And I wasn't making a sad face, either!"

Ichigo's hand dropped to his side as he let the moment go. He felt Rukia move to stand directly in front of him. They stood together, not a foot apart, both avoiding the other's gaze. Words hung around the two companions, neither knowing what to say or where to start. Time seemed at a standstill.

But if time were really standing still, Rukia wouldn't be dissipating before his eyes. He stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets to keep from reaching out. He was shocked by how strong the urge to touch her had become. To put his hand on her shoulder, toss those raven strands…just to reassure himself that she was real and this wasn't some giant hallucination.

She was disappearing too fast. His mind was scrambling frantically—uselessly—trying to find some way to slow down her fading form. This was unfair. The person who meant the world to him – who changed his whole world – was about to vanish.

"…Tell everyone I give them my best." Even as Ichigo said it he wanted to hit himself. That sounded laughable even to him. Damn. He was a coward. He could say so much more to her in these final moments. But again, he didn't have an inkling of where he'd start. Instead he took the safe road, keeping it simple, straightforward—he was good at that.

"…Okay." Rukia's soft voice drew his gaze to her. She was staring down at her feet – at the concrete? – he didn't know. He couldn't see the lower half of her body.

Rukia's head finally rose and their eyes met. He couldn't even manage a smile for her anymore. Ichigo's heart felt like a dead weight, sinking into the dark depths of his soul. Was it raining in his inner world? He almost choked at the realization that he couldn't feel Zangetsu, but he pushed that thought away vehemently. Not now. He'd deal with that breakdown later. First – first he had to say goodbye to Rukia. He took a deep breath.

They stared at each other, the world fading out until it was just the two of them. Ichigo felt his throat closing up again as more and more of her torso dissolved. No. He swallowed roughly. He wouldn't lose it. He didn't even remember the last time he'd cried. This task only grew harder as he saw the raw emotion in her eyes, the longing, the sorrow, and the regret. He knew his expression couldn't be much better.

Shit this was tough.

There was grief there too. The air hung heavily around them, weighing them down with all the words they couldn't say. All the feelings they didn't have time to express. He felt an anguishing bone-deep ache emerge. Once more he shoved these observations – distractions – aside. Ichigo was attempting valiantly to suppress the rapidly rising need to touch her face. He wouldn't…couldn't, because it might just be his undoing.

All he could see was her face. That was all Ichigo was focusing on, but then again, that was all that was left of the person who stopped his rain. He would move hell and earth for her. Che, he had done so on more than one occasion.

"Bye, Rukia."

Ichigo tore his gaze from those heartbreaking eyes. He wouldn't watch her disappear. At least this way he could pretend she'd flash-stepped away. He frowned up at the clear blue sky as he felt the world crumble around him. This world was senseless, empty…

Blinking rapidly, he used the last of his vocal capabilities to put his gratitude into words, one final time.

"Thank you."

He let his eyes close as a light breeze kissed his face, rustling his obstinate orange tresses. She was gone. Rukia was gone. He concentrated on taking deep even breaths.

Everything he meant to say was put into those two simple words. Ichigo knew she would understand. Hell, she was probably shaking her head right this minute and calling him an idiot. He could picture it – hear the words with ease. That didn't change the fact that he'd never hear her do so again…

She could still be right in front of him for all he knew, but…he didn't know. And that hurt. He stared at the barren space in front of him. It looked as empty as he felt. He couldn't let his defenses collapse yet though, what if she was still there? He couldn't let her see him break. Not when he couldn't see if she was breaking too.

Ichigo's hands were still clenched tightly in his sweatshirt pockets. He slowly withdrew his right hand, uncurling his white-knuckled fist. There would probably be permanent crescent grooves etched into his palm from his fingernails. Still staring at the space in front of him, he extended his arm, hand outstretched to where Rukia's head had been. He let it hang in space there as if he were resting his palm atop her raven head.

The hand dropped suddenly, slashing through the air with no resistance. It collapsed lifelessly—limp—at his side as he dropped his chin to his chest. His hair did him a favor by hiding his gaze. He didn't want to know what his expression held right now and no one else needed to witness it either.

He put his hand back into his sweatshirt pocket to join the other and turned towards his family home.

Reviews, comments, and constructive criticism are appreciated :)

xoxo ~ remmy