A/N: This is late, but I wrote this because my best friend, my twin, my sister by everything but blood made me that beautiful story. I've written her one as well. I hope she likes mine as much as I adored hers. This is dedicated to her, and to all my friends who may or may not read this at some point in time. I love you, my friends. And I'll miss you.
DEDICATED TO trappedinmyself1.
Goodbye.
Graduation. It was time to graduate.
It almost seemed fake. They'd gone through too much to be leaving, now, because protocol told them too. They'd stood back-to-back, blood leaving scarlet stains on their clothes, or bruises turning skin purple and black and yellow. They'd saved each other so many times, they'd felt the sting of a blade or arrow as they took it to protect someone else. They'd been through Hell, and back, quite literally. One of them had died. And now, they sat there in stiff chairs, shifting uncomfortably in suits or dresses and wishing for the clothes that were now packed away in their drawers, or in some cases boxes.
It was a blur, all the meaningless words being said by teachers, or random guest speakers that no one knew and no one cared to even listen too. The student speaker got the most attention, most applause, but even then the four in the audience that were too close to be counted as friends weren't paying attention.
Finally, the hats were thrown into the air, and music blared at the graduation ended. Three students walked slowly toward a fourth, pulling off their graduation gowns as they went.
They didn't say much, just kind of stood there looking at each other. The thin boy with blue-black hair and bright blue eyes raised an arm and checked his watch. "I've got a plane in three hours." he said awkwardly, obviously trying to break the silence.
The girl with the auburn hair and gray eyes, who had been previously staring at her shiny black heels in sad silence, jerked her head up. "What? You're leaving already, Ishida-kun?" she gasped, looking horrified.
Ishida Uryu looked away. "I'm traveling to America, Inoue-san, I've already packed everything."
"I'm leaving the same time. Heading to Tokyo." Ichigo put in slowly, quietly.
Orihime looked as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on her. She bit her lip. "We're breaking up already."
Both boys stared at her. "What?"
"Our group. We've been through so much... and now..."
Chad helped her finish, seeing as her eyes were turning stormy. "Now, we leave."
There was another silence. Everyone stood there, eying one another.
"We'll keep in touch." Ichigo decided, the usual scowl that always folded his face was softer, his chocolate eyes warmer.
"It isn't the same, Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime cried, her fingers fiddling with one another, a sure sign she was uncomfortable.
Ishida reached out, a first for the shy, glasses-wearing boy, and laid a hand on Orihime's shoulder, nimble fingers resting on soft white fabric. He'd made her dress, and she really did look beautiful. "It's okay, Inoue-san. Maybe... we could visit or something." he sounded as if he didn't believe his words, which was no surprise seeing as he was going to America and she would be staying in Karakura.
"You don't believe that, Ishida, don't lie to her." Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I might be able to, but you're at least eleven hours away or so."
Orihime sniffed, but not a tear fell from her eyes. "I don't want to say goodbye."
"Then don't." Ishida said calmly.
Three pairs of eyes turned to him, a pair of eyebrows raised. "What do you mean, Ishida?"
"Don't say goodbye. If there's one thing I have learned, its that goodbyes will always hurt, pictures won't replace having been there, memories good or bad bring pain, and words will never replace out feelings. It's not very fair, but it's life. Maybe we might see each other again." Ishida reached up and slowly pushed up his glasses, a movement that they'd seen thousands of times, but a movement that made all the eyes on him look away.
Unknown to the others, Chad, Orihime, and Ichigo were all thinking the same thing – I'm never going to see him do that again.
Orihime closed her eyes, a tear rolling down one pale cheek. Mascara smeared, giving her an appearance similar to a certain Espada that was long gone, if only on the right side of her face.
Ishida looked up, not wanting to see the cheerful girl cry. Ichigo stared at his shiny black shoes, his throat unusually tight. Chad was silent as always, but his dark eyes were sad.
"Isshin wants to have a graduation party." He said after the sniffling of the girl had lasted over two minutes and no one had spoken. His voice had shaken half way through. He coughed, embarrassed. "He offered to drive us all to my house."
Twenty minutes later they were all gathered in Ichigo's room, stiffly moving and not meeting each others eyes.
It was as though words didn't want to come. But really, what was there to say? Everything important, everything anyone needed to know... it was out there. The four knew each other better than they knew themselves. They knew weaknesses. They knew strengths. They knew secrets about each other that had been found out by standing by the other as they lay on what should have been a deathbed. They'd met because of Ichigo's power, and grown closer because of it. They'd formed a group bound tighter than anything, closer than a family.
And now, in a couple hours, it would be torn apart. It would only take seconds, and a blade would be pulling apart the chains that had tied them all together.
"I've got something for everyone." Ishida suddenly spoke up. He'd talked to Ichigo – talking, not sneering or yelling – more than he had in the past three years.
Orihime looked as if she was about to cry again as the Quincy pulled three small boxes from the bag thrown over his shoulder. He started with Orihime, handing her her gift first.
"Ish-"
He shook his head, pushed up his glasses, the hints of a smirk on his face. He tossed Chad's to him and then turned to Ichigo, expression smoothing to his usual mask.
"Kurosaki."
"Uryu."
"I don't recall being on a first name basis." The smile slowly brightened his blue eyes. Orihime, sitting on the bed, smiled too.
"Yeah, well, if we aren't by now you're a serious idiot, Uryu." Ichigo reached out. "This better not be a cape."
"Fine. Here, Ichigo." He said the name as though it was new to him and held out the box, slightly bigger than the one he'd given Chad, but still smaller than Orihime's.
Orihime opened hers first, carefully tugging pretty blue tissue paper. Her eyes welled with tears again. "You got me a necklace, Ish- Uryu-kun?"
"I... made it." Ishida admitted.
Orihime pulled it out. It was smooth, but the charm dangling on it was what made Ichigo's eyebrows rise. "Is that..."
"A strawberry..." Orihime choked. She leapt up, setting the box carefully on the bed and leaping at Ishida. She threw her arms around his thin neck and let her tears soak Ishida's perfectly pressed white shirt.
Ishida turned slightly pink, but returned the hug, looping his arms around her narrow waist. Ichigo coughed, pulling out his own gift.
It must have killed the proud Quincy to make. It was his combat patch, perfectly redone in silver, with a simple brown leather loop. Ichigo closed his fist around it, saying nothing. Ishida nodded.
Chad received something similar to Ichigo, but the charm was a red and black circle with a gold center. He pulled it over his head.
Ichigo sat the gift on the desk behind him.
"Thank you." Chad said, and Orihime bounced back onto the bed, snapping on the strawberry necklace, her cheeks smeared with black mascara from her tears. Ichigo had no doubt that Ishida's shirt was ruined, but for once the Quincy wasn't worried about fashion. He held out his hand to Ichigo, seeing the clock.
"This is goodbye. Thank you, Kurosaki." He said. Dark blue eyes met chocolate brown. Ichigo slipped his hand into the thin fingers of the Quincy.
"Thank you?" he questioned, not understanding. Ishida shook the hand.
"Thank you for... changing my mind."
Ichigo's cocky smirk faded, his face lost its humor and pride. His sharp eyes softened. Ishida went to release the grip he had on Ichigo's hand and Ichigo gave a quick squeeze. Ishida's eyebrow rose ever so slightly as he pulled back his arm.
Orihime looked startled. "Aren't you going to the same airport?" she demanded.
"...No." Ichigo said, startled at the volume of his voice. Orihime met his eyes with her own watery orbs. "Uryu's going to the airport downtown. I'm headed to Karakura Northern Airport."
Her form crumpled slightly. "No..."
Ishida took a step towards the door, seeing his father wave an impatient hand. "Goodbye, Inoue-san." he said quietly. She sobbed and gave him another quick wet hug. He smiled sadly, kissed her on the forehead, and turned.
It was the last thing they saw – the light of his glasses as he looked out the open window of his dad's car.
Chad left soon after. Orihime went home.
Ichigo was left alone, and he found a thinly wrapped book lying on the bed where Orihime had been sitting. In pink pen was written, "Memories of a Shinigami". A familiar blue pin was holding the thin red wrapping paper to the book.
Ichigo picked up the hairpin, knowing how much it meant to the girl, and set it carefully on his desk. Then he sat down, pulled the paper off as gently as he could.
It was a book full of pictures and writings. There, he stood, blood dripping from somewhere beneath his spiky orange hair and the robes of his shinigami form torn from his left shoulder. Zangetsu was thrown over his shoulder as he talked to Rukia. Here, Ishida stood with his bow summoned, aiming at something the picture hadn't captured, a look of intense concentration making his thin black brows low over his eyes. The book featured Chad fighting hollows, and then quick scribblings of handwriting with messages written obviously to be reminders of certain times. Orihime was only in one of the taped-in pictures, a close-up of her face, no make-up, a soft smile across her lips. His favorite was the very last, a picture of them all in goofy poses while wearing their signature uniforms, alone on a page with only a single word:
Goodbye.
No one would know why that page had darker circles all over it, but Ichigo did.
It was because he started crying.