Hello, all! Here it is, my second piece for Bleach. I finally made it past the 200th episode, so things are moving right along. I hope you all enjoy it, and as usual, I don't own anything. I just twist other people's visions to suit my own warped purposes...

Oh, and 1) the title is from a song by Band of Skulls, and 2) feedback would be lovely.

Light of the Morning

The hazy light from a round paper lantern glowed like the tenuous spark of a firefly through the thick, unwelcoming fog. The rain was coming down in icy sheets, the kind of cold which cut like a knife, its touch freezing everything it fell upon into icicles, making slick, shimmering crystals which glistened in the dark. A lone figure was racing through the rain, splashing toward the small paper lantern that was swaying violently in the wind; the unforgiving gale threatened to extinguish the tiny beacon altogether, threatened to overwhelm it with its cold winter's chill. Yet back and forth the small fire pulsed, determinedly, like a brilliant metronome creaking to and fro beneath the awning of a small wooden building. In shadowy flashes, the flickering light within the rice-paper shell would pick out and illuminate briefly the letters 'R' and 'A' in the sign above it, which read Urahara Shop.

A figure dressed entirely in white emerged like a specter from the fog to stand beneath the awning, rain dripping heavily from the mantle on his coat like shards of broken glass. Tiny, insignificant rivers rolled down the lenses of his glasses, slicing his vision into fourths. It was dark, the hour just before sunrise, and the shop was unaccountably quiet. No Jinta hanging around playing with his bat. No Ururu on the main sales floor, sweeping with a long straw broom. Nothing but darkness and silence. It was far too early for the denizens of the Shop to be up and about. Ishida stood beneath the faint amber circle of the lamp, unsure of what to do. Then a familiar voice called out from somewhere inside:

"Don't just stand out in the cold, Quincy. Come inside."

Still dripping, Ishida pushed his way through the shop's creaky wooden door to find Urahara seated on the floor, reclining idly on a plump green cushion, a half-melted candle and a still steaming mug of tea by his side. There was the familiar snap! of his fan as he refolded it and placed it on the floor down by the mug. Ishida walked in between the large rainbow colored bins of candy to stand across from him. He hesitated, in his sodden state, to take the other empty cushion across from the mysterious shop owner for fear of dampening it.

As if reading his thoughts, Urahara said: "Nevermind the dampness, Quincy. Please-sit." Urahara nodded meaningfully at the other cushion, his eyes lost beneath the shadows of his heavy bangs and the brim of his floppy hat.

Ishida reluctantly took his seat. His cobalt eyes swept over the interior of the shop, seemingly searching for something. There was an unmistakable tenseness to his limbs. Anxiety, coupled with anticipation, emanated from his slender frame. Urahara saw this and smiled slightly. Eventually, those cobalt eyes returned to the shop owner. The knowing smile on Urahara's face startled him a little. Reaching to take a sip from his mug, Urahara asked casually, "Looking for something?"

"...or someone?"

Ishida clenched his jaw. He knows. There was no hiding anything from the wily shop keeper and ex-Shinigami. Urahara knew everything-every little thing that went on in Karakura town. Hell, he knew everything that went on inside Soul Society, too. The man had eyes everywhere. He had a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. No doubt.

Still, Ishida's denial was instantaneous. "I'm not looking for anything." A slight pause. "It was you who summoned me here."

There was another one of those enigmatic smiles. "Quite so." Urahara lifted his eyes, his gaze roaming lazily over the Quincy's white form. "I see that you have managed to regain your former powers. Is that correct?"

Ishida narrowed his eyes. Knowing Urahara, he'd already been aware of the situation long before Ishida had made his appearance. "Yes."

"But..." Urahara paused to slurp noisily from his tea mug. "It comes with a price, no?"

Ishida's hands immediately clenched into fists. Damn you for knowing everyone's business. Ishida's nails dug into his palms as his hands went white-knuckle tight. He did not answer Urahara's question. The two of them sat in tense silence, with only the pitter-patter of the pouring rain pelting the windows for accompaniment. After a while, Urahara spoke:

"Yes, a price. Namely, you are not to associate with any Shinigami, ever. Your father's mandate, am I right?" Urahara snapped opened his fan and fluttered it in front of his face in a well-known gesture. Ishida had a feeling he was hiding a smirking expression behind its opaque folds. When Ishida didn't answer again, Urahara continued, "Yet here you are, soaked to the bone because you were so eager to answer my summons. Because you want so very much to involve yourself in the life of a Shinigami-"

"-you are an ex-Shinigami-"

"-I wasn't referring to myself, Ishida."

Silence. Pit-pat, pit-pat. Icy shafts of rain rapped hollowly against the shop windows in a rapid staccato. Ishida tried to focus on the sounds of the storm outside, as opposed to the stormy meaning in Urahara's words. There was a sigh and an irritated flutter of the fan before Urahara flicked it closed again with a jarring snap! Ishida thought the shop keeper seemed disappointed somehow. Like he had expected more from Ishida.

But why? It's ridiculous for him to expect me to share my secrets, thought Ishida. Especially when he is the most secretive one of us all...

Urahara bowed his head, his eyes receding into the dark shadows cast by the green and white candy-colored stripes of his hat. There was another inexplicable sigh. Then the ex-Shinigami pulled what looked to be a small crumpled envelope from inside his robes. He held it out to Ishida. "As you may have guessed, our dear Kurosaki, like yourself, has left to train in secret for the upcoming battle with the Arrancar. But, in the meantime, he asked that I give you this."

Ishida's eyes widened slightly at the appearance of the envelope. He wanted nothing more than to snatch it from the shop keeper's grasp and wrench it open, but his Quincy pride kept him in place, kept him as still and composed as the shards of ice frosting the window panes. Stay calm, stay calm...do not let your emotions show, Ishida mentally instructed himself as he casually reached for the envelope. But all the discipline in the world couldn't keep the slight tremor from his hands, or the gleam of hope from his eyes.

Urahara saw, but didn't comment, on any of this.

After a moment, Urahara scooped up his mug from the floor and stood. "I'll leave you to it then," he murmured quietly as he walked from the sphere of light cast by the wavering candle flame. There was a small clack! as the sliding door leading into the next room was closed firmly behind him. Ishida's gaze regarded the space where Urahara had been for only a moment before he turned his attention back to the envelope. Without hesitation, he tore into the cream-colored seal and eagerly unsheathed the strips of paper contained inside.

It was a letter addressed to him, and it took up several sheets. Ishida was surprised that Ichigo had written so much; he was, after all, not the most dedicated of students. A small smile touched the Quincy's lips as he read the opening salutation, where Ichigo addressed him by his first name:

Dear Uryuu,

You're probably surprised by the length of this letter. I am, after all, ranked 23rd in our class. Not the brightest of students, eh? But, I had to make it long. In order to say everything I needed to say, in order to say everything that I've wanted to say to you, ever since the last time you and I met.

I'm really, really sorry that I left so suddenly and without a word.

But I had to leave. It had to be done. I had to find a way to make myself stronger. I had to find a way to destroy the demon within. My own inner hollow...

I took that last defeat against the Arrancar really hard. I screwed up, and as a consequence, both Chad and Inoue got hurt. You don't know how hard that was on me, not being able to protect them. I'm so very glad you weren't there. I thank God for that small favor. I'm glad that you weren't there to get hurt, because of me. I couldn't bear the thought of it.

Hmm, you're probably sneering at that last bit right now. Thinking how no one needs to protect you, you're a Quincy, you have your pride, you don't need the protection of some Shinigami, etc. I know you, Uryuu, so don't deny it. I know that's exactly what you're thinking.

Just know, despite all that, I would die to protect you.

Just like that time with the Bount. Back when you were so helpless, so powerless. And then when they came for you in that hospital, you kept saying over and over again, "Just leave me; save yourself." You can be such a martyr sometimes, Uryuu. It really drives me insane. Surely you knew that I would never leave you. That I would protect you despite all your stupid protests.

Surely you knew that I loved you, even then.

There, I said it. The thing that I couldn't bring myself to say the last time we met. You know what I'm talking about. That time after the Bount. After we had all returned from Soul Society. Before the Arrancar came. Before I began to doubt myself, and my ability to protect my friends.

I know, I know. You don't need my protection, blah, blah, blah. Hey, how many times have you broken that bow of yours now? Twice? Three? Four times? I can't keep count...

Heh-heh. Yes, I'm being an ass, I know. Same old Ichigo. But you can be so unbelievably stubborn, you know. So goddam stuck-up. So cold, so lofty. You don't know how much that frosty Quincy demeanor of yours drives me insane. Or how much I wanted to break through it. Or how goddam happy it made me when I finally did break through it.

On that night...

That night, right before the Arrancar came. The night after that hollow had attacked you, and you were feeling so depressed, so lost, because you couldn't fight back. Because you had lost your powers again. It hurt so much to see you like that. I didn't want to see you that way, drowning in despair. I would have done anything, anything to wipe that hopeless expression from your beautiful face, Uryuu. Anything at all.

That's why I came to your room that night. To your window, from over the rooftops. Like some goddam Romeo up Juliet's balcony. Heh, how sappy an image is that? I bet you didn't know I had such romantic notions. Or maybe you did. It doesn't matter; you can make fun of me all you want, but I'm going to tell you exactly what I thought on that night.

You were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, and you were still in that stupid school uniform. Probably studying, even at such a late hour. You were always a serious student. Such a serious person in general. Unlike me. But...

When you turned to face me, you had this look in your eye. Not your usual self: not aloof, not conceited (and you know you can really be that way), not hating (remember how much you said you hated me, hated all Shinigami, in the beginning-you said it so often I lost count). No, all that was gone. Instead, there was this look of anticipation, of waiting. Like you had been waiting for something, and-

Maybe that something was me.

I wanted to believe that. With all my heart and soul. That night I did believe it. You made me believe it. When I crossed the room, and I took you in my arms. When I kissed you and you kissed me back, it was like...I don't know. It was like I had won. Like I had been fighting something, not the hollow, not the Bount, not the Arranacar, but something else, something just as hard. But I had finally won. It was better than any victory, better than anything. I had you. You-you were mine for that night, and it was like I had everything I had ever wanted. Everything.

Uryuu, do you know how much that night meant to me?

Do you know how beautiful you looked that night, with your skin all white like the moonlight shining through the window? How good your lips tasted, how warm, how alive, your body was to me? How much I wanted you, had wanted you, for so long that it almost hurt? How the sound of my name on your lips haunts me even now, here in this place? This place, that is so far away from you and everything and everyone I've ever known and loved. So far away...

Do you know how much I love you?

I regret not saying it to you that night. I regret that our time together didn't last longer. I regret a lot of things. Still, if I had only known what was coming, what fate had in store for us...If I had known that I was going to be forced to leave you so soon, so suddenly, I would have-

Never mind all that. What's done is done. There's no going back now. Just know...just know that I wish that our night together didn't have to end. That it could have gone on forever. That I wish you were here with me, right now. That I was alone with you and not training for some bloody battle that darkens both of our futures.

I wish I could have seen you in the light of the morning, Uryuu. I wish I had stayed through the night...

I wish I had said those three all important words. Because they are real to me, and I hope-and believe-they are real to you.

I want you to say them, Uryuu. The next time we meet. When I'm finally done with all this awful fighting, when I've finally conquered this darkness that lives inside of me. I want to be able to say to you all the things that I didn't say to you on that night. I want you to wait for me, love. For when I see you again, I will say them.

Until then...

Yours forever,

Ichigo

Ishida sat with the letter lying open in his hands, staring off into space, an unaccustomed smile gracing his features. The smile had taken the opportunity to steal its way onto his face while he had been distracted by Ichigo's confession, and now it remained there, a thief permanently in residence. The candle on the floor next to him was nearly burned to the quick; nothing but a hot pool of wax remained, with a struggling, drowning wick flailing at its center. It did not matter, because the azure haze of an approaching dawn could be seen creeping across the window sill. Through ice and rain it came calling through the glass, touching the bins of candy and shelves of unmarked merchandise with its blue-gray fingertips, bringing the light of a new morning into the world.

A distant pair of voices intruded on Ishida's thoughts. Through the rice paper screen on the door, two shadows could be seen approaching the room. Ishida's heart began racing. One was obviously Urahara, but the other...The other shadow was tall and trim, too tall to be Jinta, too slim to be Tessai. So maybe-

Ishida jumped up from his spot, waiting. Wait for me, love. With his heart on his sleeve and a lump in his throat, Ishida waited. There was a low murmur, a pause, then suddenly the door slid back, and-

It wasn't Ichigo. No. It was some other boy from his class, some student he barely recognized, with straight, chin length blond hair hidden beneath a conductor's cap. The boy glanced at him only briefly before turning and walking away, back through the shop, disappearing, Ishida assumed, somewhere out back. Ishida's tense shoulders slumped in disappointment. Not Ichigo. Then he turned and looked at Urahara.

The shop keeper stood in the doorway, unmoving, and his face was completely closed off. He was staring hard at Ishida. His face was blank, but there was something in his stance, in the intensity of his stare, which prompted Ishida to ask:

"What? What is it?"

Ishida watched Urahara bow his head. The candy-like swirl of his hat blocked his face. From beneath his fringe, the ex-Shinigami murmured, "Ichigo...he...he didn't make it."

"What did you just say?"

Urahara raised his head and looked at Ishida straight on. His expression was stricken, his voice like broken glass. "He didn't make it. Through the hollowfication process-"

"-what?"

"-he couldn't overcome it, the hollow that lived inside of him." Urahara paused. "Didn't you know?"

"Know what? That Ichigo had a hollow living inside of him? No-"

"That's why he left with them, the Vizards. To train with them, to learn how to subjugate it, to defeat it. But...in the end...he couldn't do it-"

"-what are you saying?"

"-They had to put him down." Those six words came down hard, like the pounding of a gavel. Like a final sentence. Ishida just stood there, stunned. His whole body began to shake. Then he said, coldly:

"No. No. I don't understand what you're saying. You can't possibly be saying-"

"He's dead." Urahara's eyes dropped to the floor, sadness overtaking their usually mirthful gaze. But if Urahara said it, then it had to be true. He knew everything about everyone. Everything.

"NO!" Ishida's scream sliced through the shop like the screech of a dying animal. All his Quincy pride, all his sense of self-discipline, came crashing down around him with the unexpected news of Ichigo's demise. Denial fought with Truth for control as Ishida grabbed Urahara by the folds of his green robes and shook him violently. "You lie," he hissed through gritted teeth, even as unbidden tears blurred his vision into indistinct hues of white and green. "It's a lie!" Ishida continued to shake and scream at the shop keeper. And Urahara, in his usual, calm way said nothing, did nothing. He simply let Ishida do it. He let him do it until the young archer collapsed, sobbing, into his waiting embrace.

"I'm sorry." Urahara said softly into the boy's dark hair as he held him. Urahara's own eyes began to fill with tears; he had been Ichigo's sensei, after all. Ichigo had meant something to him...

But Ichigo had meant everything to Ishida. Everything. And now Ichigo would never know it...

I wish I could have seen you in the light of the morning, Uryuu. I wish I had stayed through the night.

I wish I had said those three all important words...when I see you again, I will say them.

And in the cold, lonely light of the morning, Ishida sobbed, in Urahara's arms, for the love that he had lost...

End/Fin.