It's been 5 years since Ichigo became the new Soul King.
It was quiet where Inoue stood. Just like it always was. Here, high above where not even her friends could reach, she was the sole guardian. Guardian of the new Soul King.
Guardian of Ichigo.
Her amber eyes traced Ichigo's face. She didn't need to. She'd done it so many times in the past 40 years that she knew every angle of Ichigo's sincere face. In those 40 years her yearning for him has yet to decrease. She reached out a hand, again, and touched the barrier that protected them from Ichigo. She could feel nothing, yet her hand stopped. It was a barrier without distinction. As powerful as she was in her ability to reject realities, she wasn't strong enough to override the shield. She wasn't strong enough to embrace Ichigo, proclaim her love to him. Even though at the beginning of the fight she'd felt she was finally strong enough to stand by Ichigo's side; she was wrong. So wrong.
Dull pain crept out of her heart. It was reminiscent to picking at a scar that's long since healed, but never went away. In this world, there was no gentle breeze. Outside of herself, no one else could enter it lest they be disjoined by the dimensions that protected this secluded area. She was the most powerful entity bar the Soul King himself.
She pulled her hand away, once more gazing at Ichigo. She wondered, what was he thinking? Did he feel? Was he even aware of her presence? Ichigo, are you there?
She stared, eyes open and alert for any possible affirmation that Ichigo was still there.
She stared for an entire day. She blinked. There was no day cycle, just light. She looked around.
Nothing had changed.
Nothing.
Like a submerged spring pushing forth through the ground, her sadness crept into her soul and her face. She fell hard. She would never be with Ichigo. It was not possible. Ichigo's responsibilities outweighed any mere affection she had for him. Him being the Soul King helped every single living thing, breathe, fight, and think. He tied all the realities and dimensions together so that there even was a future. He held everything together with his vast power and infused knowledge that he had gained from the previous Soul King. There was no way trivial emotions like love had any place here.
That didn't stop her from desiring a son. She had felt that itch 20 years ago. Every now and then the desire would rear its head. It was an unwanted notion. She craved for it nonetheless. She placed her hand over her womb. Her anguished cries could be felt over all of Seireitei. Some especially sensitive souls in the living world could also feel the reverberations. In those areas an inexplicable silence would befall where not even the wind would stir. In those areas, the world was simply a mute, hushed tone of gray.
Another cycle of crying had finished. Inoue's marred face looked up. Had Ichigo even noticed? Had he heard her wails? Her desires? She stared at his face.
Nothing. Her heart sealed up once more. She told her self she was getting stronger. She used to cry every week. Now she only cries every few months. Maybe, one day, she'll stop crying altogether.
Maybe one day Ichigo will be back.
Inoue bit her lip, biting through the skin. But she didn't bleed. She wasn't of flesh and blood anymore. She was something more. She simply wore this container because she refused to let go of herself, of Ichigo. She didn't want to think of him anymore. Unrequited love was the most painful to bear.
A warning reached her being and she reacted like a spider feeling its web when its prey was tangled. She simply ceased to be in that area and proceeded to exist in Seireitei. A massive wave of Hollows were in a deep and bloody battle with the Shinigami. They were powerful existences many folds stronger than the Arrancar Aizen had once commanded.
This didn't bother her. This wasn't even a threat to her despite all the regular Shinigami falling in battle. Seireitei had asked for her assistance and so she would deliver. These creatures were simply trifling existences and with a thought, they no longer were.
Inoue returned. The only sound here she ever heard were her footsteps or her cries. She always appeared a few meters away from Ichigo. She liked walking to him. Each footstep inadvertently brought a ray of hope into her heart. What if by the time she reached him his eyes were open? What if by the end of her small journey Ichigo was smiling warmly at her? If not that, then, maybe, possibly, what if finally, he showed some small sign he was aware of her?
The final step landed. Her gaze slowly made its way to his face. First his chin. Next his lips. His nose. Finally, his eyes. Bitter hope filled her.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed.
