A/N: Written quite a while ago, but I kind of like the idea. It's got all my old flaws baked in right here, but it's all just for enjoyment anyway, wouldn't you say? And no, it's not completely logical. I'm writing fanfiction on a series with plotholes the size of New York City, and it shows sometimes.

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She had known something was coming. She had noticed a certain attunement to such things, a pressure that was like the air before a storm. People passed through her compartment, but no one took notice of her, not even when the lights went out and the train became a sleeping monster, to be awakened with a violent rumbling in the morning.

In the darkness, it was stronger. She sat completely still, silently assessing her capabilities. If the massing storm lived up to the whispers and the pressure, she would not see another dawn. Then again, it was long since she had stopped expecting that; she wasn't alive, despite feeling like it.

There was the creaking sound of doors opening and her eyes darted up. It was further ahead, but all the things she had met before had been able to smell her somehow. Carefully, she rose. It would hardly help against something that felt this tough, but it could give her a chance to go out with a bang, perhaps. Ghost or not, she had power to spare; it seemed more than when she'd been alive, once she had learned to use it.

Chill in the air, the rustle of an icy wind. She knew that smell. There was more than one presence here, she realised suddenly. That meant...

[Danger!]

She barely had time to dodge the wicked tail that smashed into the wall where her head had been a moment ago. Her senses hadn't completely abandoned her, evidently. Sensors seemed blank, except for the mixed feeling of dread and cold.

Her reaction the second time was slower, or the creature – wherever it was hiding – had gotten faster, because it hit her shoulder as she was throwing herself out of the way. She was sent spinning through the air and landed with a heavy thud and a grunt. When the tail struck the ground, however, she was already out of the way.

"I'm not that simple, you stink-tailed freakshow," she muttered, crouching close to the ground.

She hadn't been able to gauge the first strike, but the second two seemed to have come from somewhere high up. Complicated, considering it was a closed and somewhat cramped space. When it struck again, she was ready. There would need to be a sacrifice, or she'd never take out something as big as this.

The spikes that had glanced her when she was struck before embedded themselves in her shoulder. With blind determination she threw her body backward. Unfortunately, she was left wanting for the hoped-for result, as the spikes tore up her ghostly shoulder. The tail itself had slipped from her grip with a slipperyness that had been totally unexpected.

[Shit.]

[The end.]

But the expected strike didn't come. A flash of white and a chill wind. She knew that she'd felt that aura before. The rustle of cloth, another flash of white, but this time mingled with black.

[Shinigami.]

She didn't know what it meant, really, but it meant something.

A few, quick flashes of a blade. There was retaliation, probably, but she was aiming at escaping into the next compartment. She couldn't be any help, so the least she could be was not in the way of someone doing their job.

She stopped on the other side of the wall, taking a couple of deep breaths to ignore the pain in her ghost shoulder. Then she turned back, watching the battle from her distanced vantage point.

He disposed of the monster effectively, almost offhandedly. Short, with a spiky mane of white hair, he reminded her definitely of someone... yes. He turned and it was most definitely a familiar face, but she couldn't place him. Not that she remembered anything clearly nowadays, but his start and the shocked look on his face showed that he had reason to remember her, too.

"Where have you been?" he said sternly, but seemed to change his mind about the question and revised: "Why are you still here?"

"I don't know?" she answered, surprised to realise that this was the truth. But then something made sense: "I'm here because there's something important I must do... theres something I have to fight?" Not sure about the why or what, but she was certain about the simple version. "These creatures..."

"You live on to fight Hollows?" He huffed. "Kurosakis. You're the same, the lot of you."

"Kurosaki?"

[Kurosaki.] her mind echoed with determination.

"Yes," she agreed with the knowledge that there was memory hidden behind that name, and that it was hers. "That's it. Thanks."

"You don't even remember your own name? How much spirit particles have you been using up, if you've forgotten your own name?" He sounded concerned.

"What're you talking about?" She felt defensive about the whole thing. He wasn't aggressive, but the question made her feel foolish.

"The soul in a human body is made up of spirit particles," the little guy explained seriously. "Most people have very few, but some few exceptions can be, in differing varieties, more prone to seeing, and becoming, ghosts. While the body is alive, those who have the ability to use their spirit particles will regenerate them. As the link is severed, however, the regeneration stops, and the amount of spirit particles will eventually decrease, whatever you do."

"Sooo... what you're saying is I've been using up too many of these spirit thingies to fight, so I can't remember everything anymore?" Troublesome.

"When the ghost doesn't have enough spirit particles to retain all its previous functions, it starts dropping excess baggage, like memory. Then different abilities will cease to function, one by one, until theoretically the motor function and eventually the actual ghost body itself ceases to exist."

"But in reality?"

"In reality, they become Hollows themselves long before that."

"..."

There were probably reasons for him to lie, but a hunch told her that it was probably the truth. Maybe because something was familiar about him, maybe it was the facts that spoke to her, only she hadn't heard their voices through the thunder in her head.

"So how long have I got?"

"Not long. I'm surprised you survived, considering your state, but you're losing it and they're coming after you."

"So you have a solution just for me." Sarcasm wasn't going to work on him, the coldly raised eyebrow told her that. It made weird sense. He made no attempt to tell her anything.

"Okay," she conceded. She had lost the battle, all that was left would be trying to salvage from the wreckage. "So, what'd you have in mind?"

"Konso."

"Spirit burial. Pretty, but what does it actually mean?"

"You pass on to Soul Society. Your soul is reincarnated."

"What's the rub?"

"There is none. Not really."

"I go away from here, still not remembering a thing?"

"Yes."

"I'd call that a rub, pal. You know me. My family, from the looks of things. Spit it."

"It's better if you don't know." There was barely a hint of emotion in that, but she got the impression that the tiny change was important.

"Yeah, yeah. Lessen my suffering and all that. Bullshit. What are you, my brother?"

A broken hint of a sad smile and a definitive headshake.

"Right. So I have a brother?"

"Don't do this to yourself, Karin."

"I want those pieces back, goddamnit!" Her incorporeal hand hit the high-backed seat heavily. "Even if it costs me motor function. Kurosaki Karin." She tasted the name, and even if her entire existence had forgotten what her name was, it welcomed the return vigorously. She knew he was right, not because she trusted him but because of a feeling in her gut that wouldn't let her down.

"Will you allow me to perform konso?"

"..." She looked at him for a long time, before pursing her lips a bit. "If you help me remember."

"Your brother's name is Kurosaki Ichigo. Your sister is Kurosaki Yuzu and your father Kurosaki Isshin."

"Ichi-... Yuzu. Dad." Puzzle pieces that formed even as they placed themselves on the board. "...Mom."

"Hm? Oh. I never really thought about that. I have no idea where your mom is."

"She's dead. Long ago. I don't really remember her, but Dad had a poster in the kitchen. Stupid Dad." His blue eyes scanned her questingly, but resigned when she offered no more pieces of sudden memory.

"I know your brother through work."

"...Shinigami," she breathed. "I remember."

"You weren't supposed to know, but you got involved anyway. There was a big showdown and your brother barely made it back alive. Some things we didn't know about were chasing him, and got to you before any of us." He sounded bitter about that.

"How long ago was that?"

"What?"

"My death."

"You're taking it very calmly."

"I kinda have to, there's not much else I can do. How long?"

"A week ago, today." His pose tensed when he said it.

"A week, huh? I take it this … stuff doesn't usually progress that quickly?"

"You must have been more or less constantly using your powers over the last week to have... deteriorated this quickly."

"And where do you fit in the picture? You said you're a friend of my brother's, but that can't be the whole story. You know me, not just Ichi-nii." He flinched.

"We're friends, since a while back."

"You're avoiding the question, you sneaky piece of shit! Why?"

For a moment he was silent, then he sighed, lowering his icy gaze and reaching inside his clothing. The medallion he brought out was tiny, with a centre of icy blue crystal. He held it out toward her.

"This was supposed to be a belated Christmas gift. I'm sorry I forgot."

She took it slowly, almost breathing in the beauty of the piece. It was small, and simple, just the way she liked it.

"[Toushiro."]

She felt the flood of memories, a week that had changed more than years. Her arms froze up and the necklace slipped from her hand as she fell, hitting the floor with a muffled thud that had more finality behind it than any other sound she'd ever heard.

"I would've told you more about your family, or your life, but I wasn't really part of it so I don't know," he acquiesced. "I hope the memories were worth the price. I know you can't answer, so..."

He approached and dropped to one knee at her side, still as serious as ever. It made her want to shake some sense into him, but he'd been right. She was paralysed. That was the price. Something had to go.

"Goodbye, Karin." His eyes were dry, but there was sadness in his eyes as he closed hers and lightly touched her forehead with his lips. She would've made a sarcastic comment about that if she could,

just to bring him out of this stupid... she could almost feel her heart contract, even though she knew she had none, and her ghostly one wasn't working anyway.

[Goodbye Toushiro.]

There was a cold spot on her forehead where he had kissed her, and she just had enough time to think that it was very suitable for him, before the world faded to darkness.