A/N: Yes, it's meant to be confusing. I read Gaiman's Sandman before writing this.

Dream (the Present)

sequel to Memory (the Past)

*

There was a facet of a dream,
a tiny spark in the darkness.

*

"Wake up, silly," the girl says. Her hair is sandy-coloured and her eyes are laughing. "Today's the big day!" The world is spinning and shattering.

"I can't believe you guys made it this far. Maybe the old goat will have to admit you've grown up one of these days." I have a feeling I should remember that face and the strawberry hair, but it keeps slipping away from me.

Why is it important? Haven't I suffered enough loss in my life?

Why must I lose these people?

I remember, then, that I lost them. I lost them to a darkness thicker than mud, stickier than an oil-drenched cloth, to the bright light on the other side of the black butterfly.

And there's the dark-haired man. At least this is someone I remember, from the first memories I have. They are even now slipping from my grasp. Zaraki, mom and dad and Yuki and… where am I? This place looks nothing like home. It's clean and square white, mostly. A house where many have died and some have been saved. Why do I know this?

"Hurry up, Karin, or you'll be late!" Her eyes are dark, like mine, and she knows my name.

"Hurry up," says the strawberry out of nowhere. The dark-haired one nods, encouraging me. It's all a jumble of pictures and emotions. I don't know if these are memories or dreams or whatever, but my head is spinning and it makes no sense. I hurt all over. They're slipping from my consciousness, I don't want to let go. I want to stay with them.

Who are they, these people, and why do they matter to me?

*

"Don't die on me, Karin. What would your mother say if she knew I let my little girl get hurt like this?"

It's him, the dark-haired one. I recognise him, but I can't exactly put my finger on why or from where. It has something to do with a memory, but that's too far back.

I can't reach the source of these memories; all I can do is listen, as this thing buried deep within me comes back to life on its own.

"She needs a doctor!"

"It won't help. I'm a doctor, she has fatal internal injuries. Will you call an ambulance?"

Somehow the world shifts. The street and the rain and the darkness overtaking me become a comfortable room with a cluttered desk. A door is shoved open. Yet another face I should recognise, but my head hurts when I try to remember.

"Fifth seat Kurosaki! I have an urgent message from Fourth division!"

Such a tiny scrap of paper, but as I watch it, it seems to grow. Then I notice the little spot of blood in one corner, spreading like a disease across the paper. This is bad news. How can I know that? What would happen if I touched it? I can't stop my hand from reaching out and grabbing the paper, as if I'm just watching someone else playing around with my body.

"No! Taro."

Somehow the world shifts. Another white room. An empty bed.

"Where have you taken him?!"

"He is being buried as we speak, behind Guillotine Hill."

"Taro, why did it have to be you? You can't die on me!"

Somehow the world shifts. It's that face again. Dark eyes that reflect the sunlight. They're so full of pain. I've never seen those eyes in pain, only full of laughter. When did I see those eyes? Who do they belong to?

"Don't die on me, Karin."

The words become overlaid with another voice. I remember this new voice. It told me something I needed to know. It's the voice of someone I respect, the last person I love, but I don't even know who it is or why they mean so much.

"Don't die on me, Karin."

Why do I keep seeing the same things over and over again?

*

"Every last one of you needs to focus. If you don't, you'll die. If you don't perfect your swordplay, you'll die. If you don't train your kidou properly, sooner or later that will be a weakness and you'll die. We're in a dangerous profession. But we're needed. We are the only line of defence against the Hollows."

The other students look scared. They've heard all about the Winter War and the casualties it claimed. Hollows aren't the only dangerous thing out there. We've all heard whispers in dark corridors of Shinigami dying because they were reckless. Sometimes, those reckless Shinigami were our friends, training kidou in the backyard.

We're in a dangerous profession, indeed.

The pain, the death, the loss. It's all pointless, but we need it too badly to let go.

*

I scuttle a little closer to Taro. We'll protect each other. Even if I get hurt, Taro will still be there to heal me.

Then we start classes again and the exhaustion comes back. We work until our bodies can't take anymore and in the end we all go to bed feeling like we've been pounded into the ground forever.

The pain is the price we pay for the power to protect.

The world needs us to need it.

*

I can almost see my bankai. It's like watching something through a veil, or through thick fog.

"You have called me too soon, little one," it says to me. "My power is ripping your body apart."

"I must have your power. I won't let his death be in vain. There are still people I care for, but I need to be stronger in order to have any hope of protecting them."

"Let me go, little one."

"If I let you go, I'll never find you again. I must have the power."

The great being on the other side of the veil sighs. Then I feel a hand on my cheek. It's warm. Or maybe I'm cold?

"Let me go. I promise, I will return when you are ready. It won't be long. Be patient. Have faith."

Without a shred of hope, we would all fall to despair.

*

"She's fading fast."

"Unohana-taichou will be here any moment, just hang on a little longer!"

"She can't hear you, Matsumoto."

They don't know, so they go about their lives in darkness.

*

"Hey, Karin, do you think I'll ever be able to call on my zanpaktou's spirit?"

"Ah, of course you will!" Even now I recognise the fake optimism in my voice.

"Don't lie."

"Sorry, Taro, it's just… I don't know. You might never get past learning its name, or you might be able to call on shikai tomorrow. I just don't know."

I look up at the bunk above me. This is the only way we can talk about such things, because in daylight it's just too hard to ask the question and you'd never get an honest answer anyway. It hurts too much to speculate, but we can't really stop. My shikai… she's so beautiful.

It is a soft darkness; the kind that keeps you safe from all you wish wasn't true.

*

I feel someone's touch. I should know who it belongs to. They're shaking me.

"Kurosaki-san, we need you for a mission. There's no one else."

"Wah? But it's… in the middle of the night." I couldn't stop my yawn and even as I start wondering why my jaws aren't cracking from the strain of it, the world shatters into a thousand pieces. Who was that? I should know who he was. There's a glimpse of a young face before I drift back into the confusing river of splintered memory.

You will still be here when the curtain falls.

*

Thunder in the distance. The rain is hurling itself against the rock. We're helpless against the wind and the cold.

We're a team of five, searching the outer reaches of Soul Society for reported Hollow sightings. I'm their Seventh Seat, I'm in charge and I can't let them down.

"Hang on, everybody, it looks like there's a space up ahead where we can take cover from the worst of this! Wataro, keep moving in that direction, I'll scout the landscape."

"Yes, Kurosaki-san!"

Shunpo is crap in the rain, but there could be worse things here. There's a foul smell in the air and I keep wondering if it's the heaps of refuse from Rukongai or if it's a particularly mean Hollow. God, I hope it's just the stink of garbage.

The tiny outcropping in the rock face that I've turned my group toward is hardly enough to stop the raging weather. I have to find something better, we had a run-in with some Hollows and even though they were weaklings one of them had a pretty potent poison. If we don't find something soon, my first mission will bring a casualty back.

Damn my irresponsibility. If only I'd been quicker, if only I'd been better at kidou. Maybe I'd have to ask Taro to do some extra lessons this weekend. He'll be a kidou master one day. The shivering boy I befriended because he looked like he could need someone at his back… now I need him to have mine.

All you can hope for is that the monsters in your dreams won't follow you there.

*

There's a glimpse of white and golden strawberry, and a sense of immense power.

"Was that guy who I think it was?"

"That was a taichou and his fukutaichou. Did you feel their reiatsu?"

I can't focus, I can't see their faces. It's so close, who are those two? I should know, but my mind is starting to slip again.

Somehow I know, without knowing how, that those two, with all the power they possess, have been incapacitated in the past, even though they were fighting at their full strength. Nobody says that. I desperately hope that nobody else has understood it, either.

There is hope in oblivion, to those who are oblivious.

*

There is colour and sound, but it's all so fuzzy. Why can't I see properly? It's like the whole world is covered in a red mist.

"Please, Karin, you can't keep coming back here every weekend, you have to get friends in your own division. You're finally out of the Academy, if anything I should come to you. Your kidou lessons aren't more important than making friends and I… I'm not enough, you should have more friends."

I refuse. You are enough.

"Sixth seat Kurosaki, there's someone at the gate who claims to know you. I was going to send him away, but he was such a pathetic creature. Maybe you could at least go talk to the poor sod?"

Taro. He's even stronger than I am, in some ways.

"Kurosaki Karin. Your superiors say you are focused and competent, I believe we could use someone like you…"

"…these dreams you keep having are leaving dark circles under your eyes…"

"…I've heard you're strong and stubborn, but can you live up to that?"

"…this friend I've got, he is… or rather, he was…"

"…wouldn't it be better to forget him? He's gone. These things happen. The faster you accept it the sooner you'll get over it."

I refuse. Taro was always stronger than me, in the end. Without him, I have been driven, but I've also been lost.

I can't get a good grip on it, these voices are all so scattered… it would feel so good to just let go and float into the darkness.

Yet for us, the truth is too important to ignore.

*

"I'm a Shinigami! I have a duty to these people!"

A flash of faces. Young ones, old ones, but I don't recognise a single one. This is getting tiresome. The mass of information is draining my energy reserves.

"You know, Karin, I think I'd actually want to be in Fourth division whatever I was suited for. We Shinigami protect the weak, but Fourth is there to help everyone… even the strong."

A single face, but it slips away in mist and shadow.

"We have lost this one. I'll cover your retreat. Get the newbies out of here and find the fukutaichou. Tell her we failed."

So many faces.

The ones who can't defend themselves are dependent on those who can.

*

"Hey Taro. I know you can't hear me, I know you'll have passed to the other side by now. I hope you're doing well in the World of the Living."

There's a grey headstone, but it bears no name. Shinigami are buried, but this headstone is the only memorial they get. We. The only memorial we get. I seriously don't like thinking that way, though.

"It's been good this last month. Wataro got promoted, he's a good guy. I suppose you could almost call him a friend. We were on a mission, managed to stop a Hollow terrorizing some villagers. Not much, but it would've been your kind of mission. You always loved good deeds, after all."

Those who sacrifice their lives, their sanity, for the sake of protecting the innocent.

*

A snowflake on my eyelashes. It shouldn't be snowing in June. He's out there, somewhere, training again.

There's a chill in the corridor. I see the cynical smile on Matsumoto-fukutaichou's face as she passes by. She's been neglecting her paperwork again, hasn't she?

In the distance a shimmering dragon spreads its wings and soars into the sky. There's something special about him, I've always loved watching as you release him…

I'm looking at you now, but something is missing. You are not there.

*

It's getting clearer. The memories… yes, that's what they are. Fragments of times past. The memories don't hurt as much anymore.

More people come from the shadows. I know I should recognise them, but it's still hard to hold onto a single chain of thought.

Sandy-blonde hair, dark eyes. A comforting smile that makes me feel safe. Tousled strawberry strands and a concerned frown, beside an older, darker person whose frown has long since been replaced with a permanent joker's smile. Why are those last two wearing shihakusho?

Brown hair and dark eyes. A mother's arms to hold me. Black hair and a back bent from working to keep us all fed and clothed. Another face I can't see, holding a dark-haired little girl in his arms. She is laughing as she reaches out for our other, scrawny brother.

My family surrounds me, but they are shadows in a sun that stopped shining ages ago.

*

Bankai. I've been training for seven years and I'm going to do it. If I'm ready, I'm ready. If not, then I'll just have to try again.

A burning in my chest, pressure almost crushing my bones. Is this bankai? Is this what it takes just to hold the final stage of my zanpaktou in existence?

I can feel fingers closing on my wrist, words shouted in my ear, but I need to hear the voice of my zanpaktou. She is glorious, beautiful, brimming with power.

But I can't see her shape.

I can see the past, but the future keeps slipping away from me.

*

"…I've gotta run, or I'll be late for practice…"

"…stop, don't go there, somebody just… failed their hado lesson…"

"…there's no trick to make bankai go faster that's worth trying, trust me…"

"…Kurosaki, why don't you hang out with us tonight, you know Wataro likes you…"

"…keep that damn Hollow away from the villagers…"

"…nah, I'm going to sit behind Guillotine Hill for a while tonight…"

"…the kitchen's on fire; those stupid newbies have been trying to help again…"

"…everybody get behind me! That mad taichou's gonna let loose for real this time…"

"…did you see that? There's something special about seeing an actual bankai in action…"

People talk, but their words are all jumbled. Nonsense without reason.

*

Snowflakes on the wind and ash in my hair.

Maybe the present is all that matters, no matter how weird it seems.

*

I'm stuck in this darkness. This place in between life and death, balancing on the edge of reality. I'm alone and, for the first time in my life, that scares me.

I reach out, but my hands can't feel a thing.

*

"Unohana-taichou, how is she doing now?"

"I have done all I can, Isane-san. If she lives or dies is now up to her own will."

It's all a dream, isn't it?

*

"Ah, Matsumoto-fukutaichou. Good. Will you stay with her?"

"Yes."

I need to get away from these confusing in-betweens.

*

"Dammit, taichou… you should be here, she needs you. Karin… don't die on us."

I need to go back.

*

The room is white.

"…So you're finally waking up. Even Matsumoto has more sense than doing foolish things like that on her own. You would be missed by more people than you'd think."

This time, I can see his face. I'm not alone. There's nothing to fear.

* * *

There was a facet of a dream,
a tiny spark in the darkness.

Who are they, these people and why do they matter to me?

Why do I keep seeing the same things over and over again?

The pain, the death, the loss. It's all pointless, but we need it too badly to let go.

The world needs us to need it.

Without a shred of hope, we would all fall to despair.

They don't know, so they go about their lives in darkness.

It is a soft darkness; the kind that keeps you safe from all you wish wasn't true.

You will still be here when the curtain falls.

All you can hope for is that the monsters in your dreams won't follow you there.

There is hope in oblivion, to those who are oblivious.

Yet for us, the truth is too important to ignore.

The ones who can't defend themselves are dependent on those who can.

Those who sacrifice their lives, their sanity, for the sake of protecting the innocent.

I'm looking at you now, but something is missing. You are not there.

My family surrounds me, but they are shadows in a sun that stopped shining ages ago.

I can see the past, but the future keeps slipping away from me.

People talk, but their words are all jumbled. Nonsense without reason.

Maybe the present is all that matters, no matter how weird it seems.

I reach out, but my hands can't feel a thing.

It's all a dream, isn't it?

I need to get away from these confusing in-betweens.

I need to go back.

*

the poem only is (cc) Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike

- Martina Johansson, august 2009

Bleach and all characters belonging to it are © Kubo Tite