A/N: It's been a year and a half since Kubo personally slapped me across the face with that fragmented conclusion of Bleach. Ichigo and Rukia have always been my favourite pairing, so I was super upset to find out that they ended up with other people (honestly, I thought he wasn't going to give us any pairings at all).

I haven't written anything in a long time, but I had to get this out of my system. It takes place after the defeat of Ywach and before the time skip. The title comes from the song "So It Goes" by Billy Joel.

Ichigo wondered if this was how he was supposed to feel. There were no butterflies, no tugging at his heartstrings (whatever that meant). But here he was, sitting at some café he'd never heard of until yesterday. He had arrived half an hour early, hoping that it would give him some time to sort out his uncooperative emotions. He didn't feel nervous or excited, and that was precisely the problem.

While observing the nearby couple sitting to his right, Ichigo became painfully aware of how little he knew about romance. He simply didn't have time for it while he was in high school—fighting hollows, taking down power-hungry Shinigami and the like. What he knew, though, was that it wasn't supposed to feel as empty as this. There was a persistent ache in his chest, a sense that he was doing something terribly wrong.

All of this was unfair to the girl who would soon walk in through the doors and sit across from him with a warm smile on her face.

It could be something good, if you let it happen.

And just like that, he heard that low, familiar voice echoing in his head again. A girl's voice. Rukia. It haunted him, and he could never decide if he wanted it to stop or not. Rukia's soft tones were burned into the back of his memory. It could be something good. Perhaps her words would have been reassuring, had she been referring to him and herself. But that hadn't been the case, and now it never would be. Ichigo wondered how it was so easy for Rukia to imagine him in a relationship. Even he couldn't see himself with just anyone.

Because he'd never dated before, a lot of people thought he simply wasn't interested in women ("You're in college and you've never had a girlfriend?"). Not that he really cared about what other people thought, but it was frustrating how surprised everyone seemed. Besides, if he did get into a relationship, he wouldn't want to flaunt it the way that some people did. Wasn't his love life his business?

He liked to think that relationships were meant to be intimate, something special shared in private. He didn't look at women the same way that Kon or Keigo did, which is why he couldn't just kiss any female who showed the slightest bit of interest.

And there had been girls who'd expressed an interest in him—some of them were even brave enough to confess—but he couldn't bring himself to start anything with them. For a period of time, Ichigo thought that maybe there truly was something wrong with him. Why couldn't he reciprocate those feelings? Was he really just the stone-cold guy that everyone pinned him to be?

In spite of these questions, he knew, deep down, that he was only fiercely guarding his heart. It was much easier to tell people that he simply didn't feel the same way instead of, "Sorry, I'm already in love with a dead girl." It had taken Ichigo a long time to admit this to himself—mostly because he never thought that he'd see Rukia in that light. She was too bold, too stubborn—the complete opposite of who he imagined he'd be attracted to (and he didn't appreciate how she would always punch or kick him at the slightest offense).

He certainly didn't have these feelings from the start. But after countless battles, countless gazes exchanged, something inside him had switched. Whenever Rukia had to return to the Soul Society, he realized that her absence had grown bigger every time she did.

Now, it was no different. Rukia was gone, and she had no reason to visit him.

-x-

The last time he saw her was over a year ago, after Yhwach had finally been defeated. She had entered his bedroom through the window, unannounced. ("I guess old habits die hard" she insisted unapologetically after he pointed out that there were doors for a freakin' reason). She stepped down from his desk and landed with a soft thud.

"What if I was in the middle of changing or something?!"

"Oh please, it's not like there's anything to see."

"Why you—"

Rukia ignored him and took a couple steps around the room. Once Ichigo noticed how intently she was examining her surroundings, he stopped talking. It was always unnerving whenever she held a pensive expression on her face. She only ever looked like that when there was something on her mind. "So," he started to ask, "what are you doing here?"

She didn't answer him directly. "I'm going back to the Soul Society tomorrow." Once she said this, she turned around to face him.

Hyperaware of how close she was standing, Ichigo spoke quickly. "What are you staring at?"

"You look pretty beat up. How are your injuries?"

He crossed his arms. "I'm fine. These are just small cuts."

"Really now." She leaned in and pressed her thumb against the swollen bruise under his eye. Immediately, Ichigo's hand shot up to hold his cheek.

"Ow! Hey! What the hell was that for?"

Rukia rolled her eyes. "I swear, someone could shove their hand through your gut, tear out your liver, and you'd still call it a small cut."

"If this is how you express your concern for others..."

She interrupted him. "Take care of yourself, will you? I won't be here to anymore to stop you from doing stupid things."

On any other day, Ichigo would've retorted with a defensive remark, but this time, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was too focused on what she had said: I won't be here anymore. Was this her roundabout way of saying goodbye? The selfish part of him wanted to ask if she would ever visit just to see her friends, but he knew that that was impossible. She was a lieutenant now after all. Rukia was the most responsible person he'd ever met—it was something about her that he admired yet hated at the same time.

When Ichigo finally spoke, he tried to sound indifferent, but it was hard—harder than all the other times they've had to separate (with the exception of Rukia fading away right before his eyes). He scrambled to sort out his words. "What time do you leave?"

"In the morning."

Once she said this, Ichigo felt his heart drop. He quickly tried to mask his disdain by scratching the back of his neck. "Geez, you're really in a rush to go, aren't you?"

"There are a lot of issues to sort out regarding the roles of each division—especially because the Head Captain is no longer with us," she said softly. "They need my help."

Rukia's words were so heavy, Ichigo wasn't sure how he should respond. After the war had ended, Ichigo insisted on staying in the Soul Society to help with damage repair. They allowed him to do a little bit of work, but eventually forced him to return to the World of the Living because although they were "infinitely grateful for what he had done as the Substitute Shinigami," they could no longer "burden him with their affairs." To be honest, Ichigo felt a bit cheated. Couldn't they see that he wanted to help, too?

Averting his gaze, he said, "I know."

Rukia peered up at him. "Hey, what's with the sad look on your face?" she teased. "You should be excited! You finally get to—what is it that college students usually do? You'll attend classes, set a career goal, get a nice girlfriend or something." She clapped her hands together. "It'll be fun."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is my life supposed to be as straightforward as a daytime sitcom?"

"No, but the point is that it can be." She sat down on his bed, half expecting him to tell her to get off. When he didn't, she propped up his pillows and sat against the headboard. "Lie down," she instructed.

Startled by her command, Ichigo sputtered. "What do you mean?"

Rukia rolled her eyes. "I mean exactly what I just said. Lie down so I can heal your wounds."

He exhaled. "I already told you that I'm fine."

"Look, don't think I didn't notice you declining all the members of the Fourth Division when they tried to heal you."

"Other people had more severe injuries," he muttered.

"I came here to do this, so either you lie down, or I use my kidou and—"

"Alright, alright. You don't need to be so pushy." To be honest, if there was one thing that he was afraid of, it was the wrath of Rukia's kidou. Ichigo crawled onto his bed and laid down beside her. Rukia shifted her position and sat cross-legged in front of his torso. She started with the deep purple bruises on his upper-arm.

"I can't be as thorough as Orihime when it comes to healing, but I've learned a thing or two from Captain Unohana," Rukia told him. Even though Ichigo was tense at first, he immediately relaxed as she poured her reiatsu into his body, soothing his injuries. Closing his eyes, he released the tension in his muscles. Her spiritual energy was comforting and familiar—maybe because a part of it always lingered within him. "Speaking of Orihime," she continued quietly, "she told me something the other day. Something to do with you."

He blinked. Rukia was so concentrated, she didn't meet his eyes once. "Oh yeah? What did she say?"

"She asked me for permission." A small laugh escaped her lips as she said this.

Now he was confused. "Permission for what?"

"Permission to ask you out for lunch," she responded. "Which is so ridiculous. It's not like there's anything going on between us."

Ichigo immediately became silent after she said this. Her words stung like alcohol on a fresh wound. He felt something break inside of him, and it hurt much, much more than any of the injuries he sustained in battle. When he finally gathered the courage to speak, he softly asked, "Do you really believe that?"

She still refused to look at him. "It'll be nice to try out some new restaurants, don't you think? Well, maybe you should familiarize yourself with Orihime's strange taste in food first—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Ichigo abruptly sat up, breaking the flow of her spirit energy. She pulled her hands back. "Hey!"

"Why won't you answer my questions directly?" he accused.

"What is there for me to answer? I really think that you should consider honouring Orihime's feelings."

"But have you ever stopped to consider mine?"

Rukia didn't know how to respond. They had never been the type to address things head on because they were usually so in tune with each other's thoughts. But this—this was uncharted territory. Since the beginning, they had avoided putting labels on their relationship because labels simply couldn't do it justice. Both of them recognized the deep, inextricable connection they shared, but neither of them were willing to cross any boundaries. They were always careful not to hold each other's gaze for too long.

But now, Ichigo had pierced that protective bubble. Without waiting for her response, he asked another question. "Why do you want me to go on that date so badly?"

"Because," Rukia started saying, "it'll be an opportunity for you to live the normal life you should've had. It could be something good, if you let it happen." Her words were tight, as though they had been rehearsed.

He scoffed at this. "But what if I don't want normal, huh? What if I want you instead?"

There. He said it. He was completely at her mercy now, and he hated feeling this vulnerable.

"Don't be foolish," she exclaimed sternly.

"I'm not being foolish—I'm only telling you how I feel, and I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same." He hoped to God that she couldn't hear his heart thumping.

"What do you want me to say? I'm a Shinigami, you're a human. I'm sure that you understand the implications of that. I don't belong in the World of the Living."

Instinctively, he took a hold of her wrist. "But you're here now, aren't you? That has to mean something."

"Ichigo." She hesitated. "Don't do this."

Her words, however, seemed to betray her actions: instead of pulling away, Rukia gave him a look so full of melancholy that he was afraid she might cry. But this was Rukia Kuchiki. She was good—almost too good—at stifling her emotions. He gently loosened his grip and placed both of his hands over the backside of hers. Again, she didn't move an inch, and he focused on the warmth of her skin. Why did it have to be Rukia who made him feel this way? They were closer than they've ever been before, but strangely enough, he had never felt father away from her than in this moment.

"Why not?" he murmured. He knew that he was really pushing their boundaries, but he couldn't help it.

"Because…" she inhaled sharply, finally putting down her armor, "—because we'll both end up getting hurt. You were never meant to become a Shinigami in the first place, so please. Please just live out your life normally. For me, and for those who care about you."

These were parting words.

He expected her to draw back her hands, but she didn't. "Is that really, truly what you want?"

It was the split-second pause that gave her away. "Yes."

She was lying, and they both knew it, but she had made her decision. They stayed in that position for a little while longer—hands touching, nothing more. It might as well have been a test of restraint—a game to see who would give in first. But they resisted, and resisted, and resisted. When Rukia finally got up to leave, she exited the same way she came in. Once she was gone, there was no sign that she had ever been in the room at all, save for the fluttering curtain.

-x-

For Ichigo, it hurt more than he thought it would in the beginning. He carried this ache around with him (at the dinner table, under the shower, in his dreams). He hated how the simple act of opening his closet would bring back a surge of memories that he didn't ask for. Not only that, he also kept finding her stupid elementary school drawings in random corners of his room. At every turn, there would be something that reminded him of the girl he longed for. We'll both end up getting hurt. Tch, he was already hurt.

Weeks passed by, and Ichigo finally decided to do away with the things that he associated with Rukia. First, he dismantled the makeshift bed in his closet, then, he hid her drawings in the bottom drawer of his desk. To keep himself busy, he studied harder than he ever had before because it was the only way he knew how to distract himself.

But in spite of all this, in spite of these deliberate efforts to forget, the memory of her would still sneak up on him one way or another. It would come in the form of a butterfly, or a Chappy advertisement—things that he simply couldn't avoid.

Eventually, Ichigo learned that this ache, this pain, wasn't something that would just go away in due time. It was the kind of wound that scarred the inner part of his heart. He would have to learn to live with it.

So, after a full year of trying to forget, Ichigo finally called the girl who had been waiting for him all this time.

-x-

"Hey Inoue," he greeted as she approached his table. "It's good to see you."

A/N: Please let me know what you think! I don't think that I'll ever get over the tragedy that is Ichigo and Rukia. I'm upset about the underdeveloped pairings, but let's be honest, the entire Bleach ending was rushed. Excuse me while I cry forever and ever.