Word Count: 2,100 or so.

Canon up until the new chapter releases or something else entirely different happens. At that point it becomes head canon.

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.


Water splashed against Ichigo's knee as his sneakers pounded against the sidewalk. His disregard for the puddles that lined the sidewalk left him soaked through his clothes; not that the assaulting rain had been of any help. The freezing droplets pelted against Ichigo's face, but he didn't care. If anything, it served as a reminder that the past few hours—no, few days—hadn't been a figment of his imagination. He'd been kicked out of the Royal Realm and told never to return to Soul Society. He'd effectively been thrown out of Heaven and told he was a failure. He wasn't truly a shinigami. He was something else entirely.

So when Ichigo's father had finished the tale of Ichigo's parent's fateful meeting and the events that led to his mother's death, Ichigo's only reaction was to book it out of his childhood home, once again.

This time, however, Ichigo wasn't running to Ikumi-san's house like he had originally. This time, he was running from his entire existence.

Sure, maybe running from his home hadn't been the most mature reaction to what Isshin had told him, but Ichigo didn't think many would fault him for reacting negatively to finding out that his mother had been a Quincy, or that the Shibas, including Ganju, were an extension of his own family. To some extent, Ishida's family was also an extension of family as well. That probably won't sit well with Ishida, knowing that his family is tied to Soul Society, Ichigo thought, realizing the how much Isshin's confessions weighed not only on Ichigo, but could potentially weigh on Ichigo's nakama.

Ichigo's thoughts fled from his mind as his sneaker slipped in another puddle, effectively dropping him onto his backside. Instead of growling and pulling himself back up, like he would have normally done, Ichigo slumped forward and hung his head. It was as if all of the energy in Ichigo's body drained out onto the pavement. Bending his legs at the knees, Ichigo propped his elbows up and rubbed his hands through his hair, tugging it slightly. He then propped his arms on his knees and dropped his face onto them.

"Why is this happening to me?" he murmured to no one in particular.

The sound of crashing water rang out in Ichigo's ears. Abruptly, Ichigo looked up and realized where he had ended up—in front of the very place he had lost his mother all those years ago. It was as if the world was playing a cruel joke on him. The bank was just as muddy as it had been that fateful night. The river was raging against the shore, as if it was reacting to the torment in Ichigo's heart. The rain fell—no, Ichigo thought to himself, this was a deluge—once again.


And it continued to rain; at least for the next three days. For Ichigo, it felt like eternity.

After the first day of being home, Ichigo had wandered to the shoten looking to see if everyone had returned safely from Hueco Mundo.

"We're not quite finished here yet, Kurosaki-san,"the eccentric shop owner had relayed through Tessai's own phone. "There's many questions that still need an answer, and our new colleague is still being slightly belligerent."

Ichigo had to move his ear away from the phone when he heard a second, not unknown voice yelling in the background. After a few minutes of arguing between Urahara and this new colleague, Ichigo had just sighed and shut the phone, handing the phone back to Tessai and politely thanking him for its use.

Later that day, Ichigo found out that Ishida was nowhere to be found. Not that he really wanted to see the Quincy anyways.

Ichigo also soon realized he couldn't effectively brood in his home without alerting his sisters to his mood. Ichigo's father, though, had thankfully been absent from his presence. Ichigo figured it had to do with the fact that Isshin sensed that Ichigo wasn't keen to re-hash what revelations Ichigo had been confronted with regarding his parent's relationship. Moreover, Ichigo couldn't bring himself to spend more than a few minutes in his father's company. It was as if Ichigo placed all the blame for everything that happened in the Royal Realm on his father. Ichigo wasn't in a rush to rectify the situation.

So, Ichigo ended up going to the one place that brought him some sort of solace, although it had once been a place of deep-seated pain for him. Ichigo hadn't spent as much time near the river and its banks since his mother had died. But here he was, sitting with his legs bent at the knees, with only a jacket's hood to keep his head from being drenched by the downpour around him, lost in thought.

Sometime during his ruminating, Ichigo noticed that it was still raining, but it was as if a dome had been created around his head and instead of falling on him, it was falling around him. Coming out of what could only be a stupor did Ichigo realize this odd manifestation. For the first time in what felt like years, Ichigo realized with sudden clarity that someone had been sitting beside him for a while and this individual was holding an umbrella over his head.

"I was wondering when you would join the rest of us back in this world, baka," the voice of the person rang out in his ears, causing Ichigo to jerk sharply to gawk at the voice's owner.

"R-Rukia?!" Ichigo stammered out, gawping at the inquisitive violet-gray eyes gently watching him.

"Yes, that's my name," she lightly teased. Ichigo noted that she was in a gigai, wearing a bright yellow dress with a windbreaker to keep the cold at bay. Her short-cropped hair was dry, most likely from the large red umbrella she was holding over her and Ichigo's heads. For the first time in the past few days, Ichigo felt something akin to relief enter into his bones. However, it was short-lived as he realized that Rukia was here and not in the Royal Realm.

"You were—you were injured! And in the Royal Realm! How—"

"Renji told me what happened." She cut off his question abruptly with her own words. Everything that Ichigo wanted to ask died on his tongue as he watched Rukia's face slip into a hard mask. "I came as soon as I was able to. My injuries weren't as extensive as Nii-sama's, but I had to wait for the hot spring to fully heal my wounds."

Ichigo's questions made a reappearance, ignoring the creeping blush at the mention of the hot spring. "They let you leave?" He blurted out, noticing her eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Of course. I wasn't their prisoner. Why would they force me to stay if I didn't want to?" She stated slyly, smiling when Ichigo's scowl, the one he had always sported instead of the grief that had inundated his features, cross his face.

"I just didn't think you'd come all the way here—"

"Baka, we're nakama, aren't we?"

Those words, reminiscent of a conversation long ago, efficiently shut Ichigo up. A silence, not uncomfortable, fell between the two. It reminded Ichigo of a time past where Rukia had resided in his closet, and the two would sit for hours in his room in this sort of silence. Whether it was Ichigo reading or doing homework or Rukia drawing those atrocious figures in her notebook, that silence would envelope them, as if the entire world existed only inside his room. It amazed Ichigo that even after all this time, he knew that he could sit here and not speak a word and she would understand.

But Ichigo could hear his father's words reverberating in his head; words that once had been told to him on a day long ago where it had rained just as hard as today. He quickly realized that he was ready to talk about everything with Rukia. And this conversation could only happen with Rukia.

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo finally spoke. "Rukia," he said, feeling the shinigami turn to look at him, "I need to tell you about my roots."

And he did. Ichigo told Rukia about his mother and that joyous smile he used to sport in her presence. He told her about that fateful night in June when he lost his mother, and why the Grand Fisher had affected him so much. He told her about his full hollowfication on that Dome in Hueco Mundo, and he told her about his failure in the Royal Realm.

Ichigo told Rukia about his parents. About the Ishida's. About being part of the Shiba clan. About the seventeen months where he was powerless. It was as if his own downpour had joined in the rain falling around them, and that this was the only way he could cleanse himself was to tell her everything.

To Rukia's credit, she stayed silent and never interrupted him, only showing reacting with her facial expressions. At some point, she shifted the umbrella from one hand to another, placing her now empty hand on top of his. Any other time, this would have embarrassed Ichigo, but that small connection had been a comfort more than anything.

Much later, Ichigo ran out of words. He drew in a ragged breath and released it, as if that motion was freeing the last of the burdens he'd been shouldering for so long. He feared looking at Rukia, but finally glanced over at the quiet shinigami.

Surprisingly, her demeanor was restless. Rukia's mask had slipped off, leaving her own sorrow evident on her face. Ichigo felt a heat creep up his neck, and he opened his mouth to speak, to somehow ease the obvious tension between them, when she spoke—

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as Ichigo stared at her.

"… About what?" He tentatively asked, genuinely confused.

"About everything. About everything that's happened to you. It's all my fault," she drew in her own ragged breath and exhaled sharply. "The reason you've gone through all of this is my fault. And those seventeen months, I knew, I knew you weren't happy and I should have tried to get your powers back quicker. It just took so lo—"

"Stop." Rukia flinched at the terseness of the word, but saw, with no lack of surprise, that Ichigo was sporting a half-smile rather than a face with anger. "Never apologize for that."

Ichigo continued. "I never felt like I had a purpose before I met you. I never could protect anyone the way I wanted to, before I met you. Without you, I would have never become a shinigami and realized that I could protect everyone I cared about, including you."

"Then you need to talk to your father, Ichigo," Rukia stated, watching Ichigo tense at the mention of his parent. "Your past doesn't dictate who you are now; who you will be in the future. Your past only defines who you are as much as you let it."

Rukia spoke up again, gazing at Ichigo earnestly, her eyes not diverting from his. "You're still Ichigo. You're still the same person who wants to protect his friends and family. You're still the baka who will rush headfirst into a situation without thinking about it, as long as it's to protect someone you care about.

"Even after all this time, even after all you've found out, your heart isn't any different, regardless of your roots. It's unwavering. That is what I believe defines who you are. That is your strength."

Ichigo stared at Rukia, profoundly moved by her words. He felt a sudden shift in their relationship, one that he couldn't place its meaning on. It wasn't so long ago she had kicked him in the head and told him to get his act together when it came to Ginjou. But this time… This time it was different. This time he was treading on uncharted waters.

Looking down at the tiny hand placed on top of his own, Ichigo realized he would continue to rush headfirst into situations, at least when it came to Rukia. So without analyzing what could possibly be a disastrous idea, he turned his palm to face hers and intertwined their fingers.

Ichigo inwardly braced himself, waiting for some negative reaction to what he had done. But all Rukia did was gaze at him and smile sweetly, squeezing his fingers with hers. Ichigo returned her smile with his own, using muscles that had laid dormant since the loss of his mother to smile back at the shinigami.

After a time, Rukia gazed out at the river before them. "Hey," she said simply, breaking Ichigo out of his daze. She placed the umbrella on the ground and regarded the sky. "I think the rain has stopped."

But Ichigo didn't look up with her. He continued to watch the petite woman. "Yeah," he said, never breaking his gaze. "I think it really has this time."