Sword-chan- Fic inspired by Eminem's Stan. I don't care if you don't like this. I'm too much into angst and depressy fics… I just had to write this. The best type of inspiration is when your fingers itch for the keyboard or pen.

Kishuu can't talk right now. He's busy hypervenelating at his new role.

ONE SHOT.

If italics don't show up, I'm terribly sorry... Fanfic is being weird.

X.x.X- Death Letters -X.x.X

Ichigo,

I guess you didn't get my last two letters. I was crying so hard and my hand was shaking, I guess it was sloppy and the post office couldn't read it. Earth's post office is so un-reliable.

Just dropping in. How's Masaya? I hope you're happy together.

Kishuu.

P.S- Here's the address of my rental apartmen and the cell phone I got, since this place doesn't have a phone. Oh, and my e-mail..

XXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX RD, (XXX) XXX-XXXX, Write back, please.

I printed the address perfectly and walked out into the rain to the mailbox, but hesitated and walked back into the apartment complex, layed the letter down on the coffee table and teleported to a local Wal-Mart. I almbled along for a while, feeling weird in the jeans and t-shirt I'd gotten to blend in. The stationary section had a column or two of stickers- I picked out two; Strawberries and cats. Oops, I thought, feeling inside my pocket, No money after the cell. I glanced around quickly, then teleported back to my apartment. The glitter from the stickers stuck to the envelope and my hands… But that was o.k. I liked it like that.

Dear Ichigo,

You haven't written backe. I know you got that letter, I got it perfect. You were the one who promised you wouldn't keep acting sour when I visited last summer.

I can't stop thinking about you and you know it, don't you? You just want to see me like that.

Pai and Taruto are getting annoyed because I never come back to the ship, and when I do all I talk about is you and how you haven't written yet. I know you aren't on vacation, either, because I see you walk to your college. You pass my complex, but I can't face you, since you'd probably avoid it if you knew I lived here. Don't you ever pay attention? But that's half why I love you. You're breezy like that. Ichigo, you know we'd be perfect together! Give up on Masaya! He isn't even in Japan anymore. Don't you know how much he stares at other girls? I'd never do that, Ichigo, I'd love you like you deserve.

I check my e-mail five times a day, but I only get Taruto and Pai complaining. And spam, but I don't have any acne, so I can't get those weird creams.

I miss a lot of calls on my cell phone, but none of them are from you. I've called the café and Ryou always says you've been at work.

Have you been screwing around with him? I'm not mad if you are, just dissappointed. That guy's worse than Masaya! I'm getting so depressed, I think I might do something crazy. I'll sign my name in blood so you don't think I'm just joking.

Kishuu.

The knife felt good against my skin, and the aroma of my own blood only pushed me further. The cursive was sloppy, but I knew you'd get the message of it. But I didn't want to die just then, or have my finger die, so I put a bandage on. Half of me was saying that I was going crazy, that I talked like I was talking to you, like I was still writing, but I don't care. I love you. Her. I don't care anymore.

Ichigo,

I've checked your address in the book five times to make sure this is right.

I found about this stuff called vodka, and I drank a lot of it. I think hijacking a taxi and driving off a bridge would be a good idea. Then you'd know how much I love you and how much you hurt me.

I wish I could bring you down with me, Ichigo! We coulda been the like, couple of the year or something, like Sana and Akito in Kodomo No Omocha or Miki and… Jeez, I can't remember any of the names of the people in those shoujo mangas you always read. I remember you saying you wanted to look like them, but if you haven't noticed you DO, koneko. I think Miki was from Marmalade Boy or something, right? And Yukino and Soichiro in Kare Kano, too. Kagome and Inuyasha, Sango and Miroku, Kenshin and Kaoru…

Actually, I don't really care about them, but us, Ichigo!

I've gotta go now, it's rush hour and maybe someone will go down with me. I'll send this on the way out to the road.

Kishuu.

"TAXI!" I shout, waving. He stops.

"I'll tell you when to stop," I say quietly, climbing in, not quite sure which street is after the bridge. Half a mile later, I say,

"STOP!" He's surprised but stops.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "But my bag is somewhere out there, I saw it come out the trunk. Could you go get it? I'll, um, pay you extra," I ignore the fact I sound like an old lady. The extra worked, though, and the driver gets out. Luckily, his keys are still in the car. I climb to the front seat and speed off, faster and faster to the bridge. I drift to the right, then turn even more sharply and crash into the side of the bridge. It didn't break, and I didn't go over.

"Shit," I mumble, back up, then slam into it more harshly, this time knocking it away and plummiting into the rushing river. The water rushes in through the open windows, and it becomes clear what I've done.

But for a brief moment I don't care.

X.x.X

Tears run down my face as I read the letter. What letters? I mentally ask Kishuu, I never got any. Just this one. Did you get the wrong address?

I never got any cell phone calls. It's broken again.

I breathe in deeply, telling myself it's not true. My hands reach for the T.V remote. Yes, some mind-numbing television should make this all go away. But… No. There's a news update—Someone hijiacked a taxi and drove off the bridge. Hot tears fill my eyes as I throw the remote against the wall and get up to manually turn off the evil contraption. I had just enetered college… I was just a young adult trying to survive off any vegetable that was on sale (This week it was carrots. I was lucky)!

Why'd he have to hot wire my T.V or something? I climbed into my car, slamming on the acceleration and heading for the bridge (Or at least the only bridge I knew of in this college suburbia), still not thinking it had happened. That it was just Kishuu being a jerk and trying to get me to cry. Again.

I was coming close to the bridge, then, and suddenly hated the sun for shining. There was a large gap in the bridge, a lot of 'CAUTION' tap, police cars, idiots standing and watching. Everything in my vision was smudged around the edges, blury in the middle, as I cranked my wheel to the right and sped off, trying to place where I'd gone wrong. The last time I'd seen him- Minto's summer barbecue last year, bidding good bye to Masaya, who was leaving for England. Again. We had been dating on and off, and were currently full on-, he'd been his normal, not-so-normal self with Taruto and Pai. Had I made a mistake when I hugged Masaya before I went to pig out on the cheese and crackers? Or maybe it was when I had been gabbing to Retasu and Zakuro about the ring he'd gotten me for a just-because-present.

But whatever it was, it had something to do with Masaya.

What? I asked myself for the millionth time as I parked my car, letting my hands stay frozen on the wheel. Other people who lived in the subdivision and apartment complex passed me by, but I didn't care for them, nor they for me.

There was that deafening sound of lonliness.

X.x.X

It'd been a few months since the suicide, Minto had just called and asked me to go clubbing with her and Zakuro,(Retasu was out with her boyfriend. The like, second one she'd had in the last five years. But he's nice, and she usually stays with the same guy for a looong time. Purin had been kicked out of every club within 50-100 miles)… And, basically, a lot had changed. I had recently been seeing a phsychiatrist ('Forgetting' to tell her about how we met and that he was an alien, of course), who told me time and time again it 'wasn't my fault' and that 'I had a right to be angry with him for dieing (I was?), but I had to remember it was his choice'.

So far, I didn't believe half of it, but I guess I was doing better. Even though I probably should've, I didn't tell Mom and Dad that the 'SweetHeart Suicidal' guy was an alien who had crushed on me when I was a Mew Mew. Oh, I didn't tell you I was a Mew Mew? Well, you see, there was this guy—Oh, I didn't tell you about him either?

Yeah. I'm sure they'd still trust me if I told them that. I'd have one of those delinquient 'I-hate-my-parents-we-just-don't-talk-anymore.-Period' additude, and I'd have to explain to my kids (Saying I have kids) why they only had ONE set of grandparents (Saying they had at least one) and that the other's weren't dead (I'm not lieing to my kids… Much)

After spending a minimum of time in front of the mirror and a maximum in my closet (I didn't really go to clubs often, and wasn't exactly sure what to wear #;.;#), I was stepping out the door, wincing when I heard a small crinkle under my two inch platforms. Gingerly lifting my foot to see what it was, I gasped out- Two letters and a tiny note.

I didn't mean it.