Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach
A/N: A little of this was originally one of the beginnings I tried out/came up with for my story The Ryuukin, belonging to the first chapter…but I couldn't get it right…the last few days it's been bugging me and so I wrote it out again and tweaked it a bit, then decided that – though I can no longer go back and add it to the story – I could at least post it for peoples reading pleasure…let me know what you all think…I kind of wish I could have added it to the start…but whatever…
To See Her Once Again
For the first time in a very long time, Ukitake Jyuushiro allowed himself to fear as his body gave out and he tumbled from the sky.
He had felt the hand tear through him, the pain sending a brutal shock through his body, but now he was just numb, not even feeling the wind as it rushed past him.
Though he did notice the way it felt like familiar fingers as it ran through his hair.
His eyes slid closed and he exalted in the feel of it…it was the closest he had felt to her in a long time.
He found it strange.
He had always lived with death hanging over him like an ever-present black cloud, but she had always helped to hold it at bay.
They had all come close to death on more than one occasion, but they had always been standing by for each other, lending each other life and strength.
But she had been gone for too many years now, and the cloud continued to grow larger.
She who had stood alone and apart from everyone before he had come into her life.
She who had only ever cried silent tears of loneliness before he loved her.
She who had been taken from him without warning.
He found it funny.
He was falling, dying…
Strange.
They always say that your life flashes in front of your eyes when you die, but all he could see was her.
All he could hear was her.
All he could feel was her.
Her bright, radiant smile that only a few precious people in her life ever got to witness.
The wicked glow in her mismatched eyes that was for him and him alone.
He could see the strength of her stance, the power in her walk.
He heard the husky tones of her voice as she teased him, whispered his name in the heat of their passion.
He could feel her fingers brushing through his hair, gliding over his skin.
The gentle whisper of her lips against his.
Many had forgotten her in the time she had been gone. But then many of those people were also no longer around.
But never would he forget her passion, her resolve, her unfailing strength.
He was numb to the point where he could no longer feel his own heart beating, or hear the blood rushing through his veins…he thought he had already hit the ground, but then he wasn't sure of that either.
Yet he still felt her.
In the time when he should have been remembering his entire existence, he only remembered her, as if there was never a time she was not there with him.
He was dying, and for the first time in a long time, he felt fear.
A tear slipped from his eye, unexpected and unnoticed.
He wasn't ready to leave.
He wasn't ready to leave her.
He couldn't let her be alone.
He felt the black emptiness engulfing his senses and fear pulsed through his veins.
He couldn't leave her.
There was no way he would go without seeing her once again.
Right as he was on the verge of complete unconsciousness, something wet fell on his cheeks.
Rain?
No, tears.
Without a doubt, he felt her presence appear at his side, smelt her scent as it enveloped him.
A tiny ray of hope split through his darkness.
He refused to die. He refused leave her.
"Aki,"
She was there beside him.
There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.
Washington Irving
A/N: don't forget to review and let me know what you thought…