Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the Bleach characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

Chasing Ghosts

Chapter 1: You Burned My Resolution

A/N: I'm taking a stab at writing a full-length AU. Oneshots are simple enough, but I'm in the mood for a challenge.

Over the last few days, the sky had easily become a massive blackboard, scratching out its frightening, almost apocalyptic signs, raining them down upon the city in the form of an uncanny storm. Jagged strips of light touched down in the distance every so often, sparking fires that sent people darting about like a colony of ants under siege. Even from such a wide office window, so far away and high above the ground, it was frightening to see how easily things were consumed, crumbling amidst the flames. It seemed that the heavens had it in for this city, as it had been ravaged by storm and by flood as of late, wiping out multiple businesses and homes. These catastrophes, even those that paled in comparison to this massive fire, were what had the hospital staff working overtime.

Numerous people had been injured, even killed, amidst the chaos, causing off-duty doctors to come in as backup to be used in the Emergency Room. She hadn't liked it, being asked to come in when she was supposed to be on vacation, but her kind heart wouldn't have allowed her to sit idly by while people were suffering like this. After several hours of assisting the ER doctors, she'd been told to take some time to herself. A suggestion which she'd gladly heeded.

Staring out the window, she could see the rain as it now bled down over the city, ignoring the fact that it would cause multiple traffic delays. The wind had picked up as well, rattling the windows with a ferocity that made the patients quiver, fearful that the glass would crack and fly inwards. The cries of children could be heard all up and down the hall, sending nurses and parents scurrying into rooms as a source of comfort.

On the desk, now absent of paperwork and patient files, was a lone sheet of paper that had been picked up from the university bulletin board down in the lobby. It was a flier, a request for a private tutor who had some knowledge regarding Advanced Placement Chemistry and various higher-level Mathematics classes. Upon further inspection, she had noted that, in smaller lettering near the bottom, the flier's author admitted to being a "third-year high school student." That must have been plenty to ward off the tutors on campus, as many students could be heard bad-mouthing their own high school experiences. From what she had gathered, none of them wanted to take on a "wet-behind-the-ears brat."

That had been enough for her to pull the flier down herself, having decided that she, being on a short period of leave, would have quite enough time to assist someone interested in higher learning.

When one of the nurses came by, explaining that everything was under control in the ER, she had gathered up her things and headed down the stairs, fearful of using the elevator, as it the power could go out at any given time during such a storm. Once outside, she found herself lamenting her decision to wear flats, as the forecast had given her no reason to believe in sunshine. Puddles were avoided with an iron focus, earning her several strange glances as she headed towards the bus stop, six blocks away. Had the day been nicer, she would have walked the whole way, not even giving the metal creature the time of day.

After having carefully traversed the many streets hat led to the bus, she sighed, realizing that she'd missed its first run that afternoon. Still nice and dry beneath the umbrella, she leaned up against the side of the bus station, pulling the flier from her purse again. The map at the bottom led to a place that she knew well, as she'd been there on numerous occasions. It was a precise route to Karakura General Hospital, which was a good half hour from her residence within Tokyo. But, for the sake of a student in need, especially one who seemed to have such high standards, an out-of-the-way trip was a small price to pay.

The screeching of brakes snapped her out of her reverie, the bus driver leaning out of his seat so as to help her over a puddle that had collected at the curb. She thanked him, slipping into a seat beneath the heater as she closed her umbrella. A wide-eyed expression overcame her as a familiar flash of white shot past her, settling into the next seat. She smiled, fighting off the urge to pat her companion on the head.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, fussing with his officer's uniform, his cool blue eyes turning to look at her. "Please, don't."

She nodded, smiling at the little idiosyncrasy he'd so swiftly developed. It had only been a few weeks since he'd been in her office, insisting that she be the one to look over his charts, as he didn't trust a doctor by the name of Takimura. As he was the adopted son of a family friend, she had complied and calmly overseen his case, ensuring that everything went well.

"You live further into the city, don't you?" he asked, pointing out the window. "I believe you're on the wrong bus."

Another smile arrived as she patted his shoulder. "I'm on an errand, Toshiro," she replied, handing him the folded-up flier.

His eyes scanned over the colored page before handing it back to her, an amused gleam in his eye. "As always, you try too hard, Retsu," he muttered, touching her hand. "Just as you did for my father."

It was hard on him, speaking of the man. He'd died the year before of Degos disease, just as Toshiro had prepared for his early graduation from the Police Academy. Although she was primarily in charge of Pediatrics, Retsu had made a plea to the hospital's director, fortunately earning permission to offer advice on the case. When the final diagnosis had come through, it had progressed too far for Kirano to receive any kind of significant treatment. She had then informed the family, and Toshiro had sat by his father's bedside, completely disregarding his own ceremony.

"He's proud of you," she said, trying to comfort him.

Harder, still, had been the young man's recent promotion to Captain within the Force. There was much conflict within the police headquarters, and many articles had been strewn across the pages of the newspaper as people questioned the ability of a young man who was barely over eighteen. It was discerning, knowing that they looked down upon him, despite all the good he'd done in the city. Ability was what mattered, as Retsu had told Kirano when his son had graduated high school at fifteen.

When the bus finally screeched to a halt, Retsu glanced out the front window, spotting the stop that was closest to Karakura General. Still in her seat, she placed a kiss on the boy's forehead, taking his hand.

"Don't worry too much about it," she smiled, having read his uncertainty. "Once you've done your part, they'll see how important your role is. Just don't let them see you worrying like this."

Blue eyes seemed to fly to the heavens at this, a smile gracing his young face as she stepped out into the rain, waving as the bus lurched away from the curb.

Reaching into her purse again, Retsu began following the map to the letter, ensuring that she reached each and every street that had been marked. Although she'd frequented Karakura General on numerous occasions, namely during medical conventions, Retsu wouldn't dare try to find the place without a proper map, as Karakura Town was relatively small in comparison to Tokyo. There weren't distinguishing landmarks or buildings on every street corner, or maps on shop windows that told one of their position. It was a quiet, almost dusty, little town that only seemed to come to life at night as one neared the hustle and bustle of the big city.

The rain seemed to let up by now, urging her to close up the umbrella. She ignored it, having the feeling that the storm would worsen significantly before she reached her destination. Four blocks later, said intuition proved to be fact, the wind whistling across the street as it struggled to wrench the handle from her grasp. But she held on tight, the towering building firmly in sight. Stopping at a street corner, Retsu looked both ways before stepping onto the gravel, a loud shout startling her into swinging her purse into the character who had jumped out at her.

Eyes wide, she stared incredulously at the young man on the ground, a sheepish grin on his face. Retsu shook her head, offering him a hand and pulling him to his feet before giving him another good smack.

"One more time, Nakai Igarashi, and I call the police!" she exclaimed, striding far ahead of him.

It always seemed that the kids in this town, namely the high schoolers, had nothing better to do than to frighten "outsiders," as they called them. The boy who had frightened her was one she knew well, as he was the son of one of the researchers at the University Hospital. He'd been in her office numerous times, on the receiving end of lectures as she'd constantly caught him trying to look up the skirts of particularly attractive patients. And, as fate would so miserably have it, the boy seemed to have quite a thing for her, as well.

She feared for students such as Nakai, worrying that they'd end up "amounting to nothing" as so many parents had mentioned. Not having children of her own, Retsu was only inclined to worry about those of the people she considered friends, as she'd watched many of them grow up. Of course, she wouldn't exactly mind fretting over her own offspring.

Her eyes returned to the front, realizing that she stood before the double doors of Karakura General. She pushed forward on the glass, relieved to be well out of the rain. Retsu took care to shake the water off of her umbrella before heading up to the front desk, asking the woman if she knew anything about a student seeking a tutor. To Retsu's surprise, the woman directed her to the East hall, explaining that she needed to find the elevator and take it down to the basement level.

Thanking her, Retsu did as she was instructed, stepping through the metal doors that sat around the corner, quietly wondering exactly why a student would be waiting in the basement. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Retsu found that the sector was actually very clean, despite what she'd believed. Being a doctor who dealt primarily with children, she'd never once had the chance to venture into the division of the hospital, the Coroner's Office, where the cadavers were kept and autopsies carried out. As such, she'd actually imagined such a place to be dark and uninviting. Stepping out of the elevator, she realized that this defied all of her expectations.

The lights were bright, illuminating the heightened white ceilings and glimmering off the tiled floor. The walls, too, were an off-white color, wooden handrails having been placed along the length of the halls. To her left, there were numerous rooms, some with closed doors and signs that insisted the occupants not be disturbed unless the circumstances were urgent. She glanced down at the slip of paper the woman at the front had given her. It was marked with a big number "8," indicating that the student she was looking for would likely be in that room.

Retsu traversed the hallways, ignoring the strange glances she received from some of the doctors who lingered, clearly taking a much-needed break. She turned the corner, spotting the number etched into the glass of the door. Retsu's hand hovered, wondering if she was really supposed to be here. From what she'd observed, these people seemed to be rather busy, and she didn't want to interrupt. Her fingers rested on the handle, turning it enough so she could peer inside. There was quite a mess on the floor, concocted of blood, ichor, and various metal tools, but no one in sight, bringing curiosity to her eyes. From the other side, she gasped as she felt the door being pulled open, surprised to suddenly find herself staring awkwardly at a dark-haired man, the interest on his face little to none. With one look at her, he turned away, disappearing inside as a young girl, no older than seventeen, slipped through the door, ushering Retsu back into the hallway.

"I'm sorry," the girl said, closing the door behind her. Her quiet eyes were drawn to the paper in Retsu's hand, a small smile crossing her features. "I should have included a phone number."

At a loss for words, Retsu nodded mildly, scouring the flier for any sign of a number. In her haste to answer the call, she had failed to notice the email address at the bottom of the page, set to the left of the map. Had she not been so embarrassed, Retsu would have kicked herself.

As if having read her thoughts, the girl offered her hand. "I'm very glad you came," she said, reaching back inside the door for her things. "It's been weeks since I posted that, and I was starting to think that no one would come. May I ask your name? Mine's Nemu."

Retsu, still somewhat red with humiliation, accepted the girl's hand. "Retsu Unohana," she said, her tone surprisingly level. "I'm a Pediatrician at the University of Tokyo Hospital."

Her eyes widened slightly as Nemu, still smiling, led her down the hall, her grip on Retsu's hand still firm. There was a set of stairs at the end of the hallway that went back up to the ground floor, ending in another small corridor with two sets of doors, one at either end. Retsu followed as the girl led her to the nearest exit, slipping out into a covered drop-off area that was designated for the emergency vehicles. There was a melodic tune as Nemu reached into the pocket of her coat, pulling out a phone with a glowing screen.

"He's called a car for us," she said, her smile finally fading. "It should be here in a few minutes."

Retsu nodded, staring off into the distance as the rain, ever strong, continued to pour down. She had no doubt that she'd be returning to the Cornoner's Office on occasion so as to collect her new ward, but she had no interest in ever opening that door when someone was occupying the room. She hadn't believed that a cadaver could bleed quite so much, a recent death or not. And, for certain, she wasn't particularly interested in seeing such a sight again.

She hesitated to speak as the car rolled around, the two of them sliding into the backseat as Nemu gave the driver instructions. A part of her wanted to know who it was that the girl had been with in that room, while the other side insisted that she not ask any questions.

"Who was that with you before?" she heard herself ask.

Nemu turned her gaze to the window, sighing as the vehicle lurched forward. "My father."

# - # - # - #

The instant that silhouette had appeared, he'd ended up with that sinking feeling. Another oblivious soul to further add to the impossible pressure. As if dealing with yet another murder victim wasn't enough, the girl had given some random stranger directions to one of the only places on the planet wherein he could think. To make things worse, the woman who had arrived seemed to have no bleeding idea as to who she was looking for. Blind stupidity if he'd ever seen it.

As far as he was concerned, this woman, whom Nemu had insisted was her tutor, was just another hapless invader. It seemed as if all manner of unwelcome people were working themselves to the bone for a chance to watch him writhe. Teachers, colleagues, family members of the dearly departed. They all had some motive, and, to his current case of paranoia, everything seemed to lead back towards him. Never mind the string of killings that had occurred over the past six weeks, they all seemed to have some reason as to inquire about the girl.

Regardless of their purposes, her well-being was nobody's damned business. He wouldn't deny that his judgment was unstable, despite the obvious approval he garnered through his work, but if this woman turned out to be yet another undercover cop, present only to gauge his mental stability, there would be another pathologist picking apart the woman's corpse while he sat in a prison cell.

He turned, staring intently at the clock that hung on the wall. Another fifteen minutes, and the woman would likely be drinking tea and laughing about useless female things in his haven. It would be miserable, considering leaving this place within the hour, but there was no strict schedule that demanded he go straight home. He'd determine how long she would be there, and would then orchestrate the rest of the night based upon that fact.

For a moment, he almost wished she'd walked into the room. That way, he could have sent her off with a disturbing mental photographs of the bloodied cadaver lying on the autopsy table. From the looks of her, the woman seemed to be a bleeding heart, the kind of person who couldn't stand seeing injury, let alone the carved and dissected corpse of a man, diagnosed weeks earlier with terminal lung cancer, who'd been carved up after being offed with morphine.

For years, they'd called him grim, which wasn't exactly an understatement. It was amusing, seeing the looks on people's faces when they came in to hear about that which had killed their loved ones. The way they'd stare at the corpse and then at him was more than enough to make him laugh. But he'd keep that twisted pleasure to himself, for the sake of being "professional" and not coming off as a sadistic bastard.

But for her, an intruder, he would have liked nothing more.