A/n: I wrote this story back in 2010 and I kind of abandoned it, as I do with most of my stories ... But I've been struggling writing my original stories, and so I decided to revisit some old stories to see if I could spark my creativity. I forgot how much of BLEACH I actually watched! My sister was always a bigger fan of it than I was, but it was really nice sharing it with her along with NARUTO. I haven't watched BLEACH probably since 2011 so apologies if characters are waaayyy OOC!

Now I'm remembering when I stayed up so late with my sister to watch Diamond Dust Rebellion and she was sooo excited and went to tell me something and I was sound asleep. I don't remember a thing from that movie, but I'm glad she enjoyed it. Maybe I'll actually finish this story a second time around ...

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo! Also sorry for misspellings. )':

Momo Hinamori sniffled, pulling her legs up onto the couch and hugging them tightly to her chest. Burying her face in her knees, she let out a soft whimper. It just didn't seem right - not dating Toshirou. It had taken her years to get up the courage to talk to him; she had worked so hard to get him to notice her, and then finally they started dating and … she thought it would never end! At least not like this. It wasn't supposed to end the way it did. But it's what he wanted, and it seemed that he always got what he wanted. Including a new girlfriend. Stupid Toshirou. Stupid Rangiku … Stupid everyone! Blubbering, she raised her cloth-covered hand and wiped her eyes and nose. She wasn't going to sit around in her house and be one of those girls who ate tubs of ice cream and watched rom-coms all day for weeks on end. No! She would rise up and get someone better - be someone better. She wouldn't Toshirou continue to control her life now that he was out of it. She had already been locked up in her apartment for three days now, and it was starting to get old. She really needed to get some fresh air.

Standing up from her low couch, she dug out a used tissue from between the cushions and blew her nose loudly. She also hadn't changed in the last three days - she was still wearing the same clothes she'd worn when Toshirou had dropped the bombshell - "I want to break up with you …" It was such a shock to her, Momo hadn't had the energy to do anything in her daily routine, including showering and changing. It felt like she had lived on that couch for the last month, instead of half a week. Changing from her gray sweater and the flowing purple skirt Toshirou had bought for her on their second anniversary into a plain white t-shirt and jeans, she ran a brush through her tangled, black hair and pulled it back in a high pony. It was good to get her hair out of her face for a while; she was pretty sure she'd accidentally eaten quite a bit of it while binging on take-out and cheap chocolates… Okay, maybe she was like those other girls. It was just so easy to fall into those bad habits when she was sad.

Slipping on black flats, Momo pulled on her army green jacket and stepped out into the warm hallway. Almost instantly she could smell rain and recalled the light storm that had rolled in the night before and stayed up until now. She had watched it for a while out of her window, but the gloomy skies seemed to be a reflection of how she felt inside. It didn't matter - fresh air is what she needed and there was nothing fresher than the smell of the earth right after a storm. She pulled her jacket tighter round herself and began the trek towards the door that led to the exterior stairs. It seemed like forever ago that she had been out in this hallway; in the last three days the only time she had seen it was when she answered the door to get her take-out. It was a bit embarrassing now that she thought of it.

Just as she was readying to push open the door, she heard loud voices somewhere down the hall. She turned her head, curious, and quietly followed the noise. Back down the hall and to the right … Momo glanced around the corner to see a tall blond picking up pieces of paper from the ground. A woman, tall and thin, stared down at him. She shouted something that sounded unkind, then stormed off to the far end of the hall, leaving the man alone.

The young girl felt something inside of her stir. Sympathy? A parallel loneliness? Pity? Whatever it was, it controlled her. She walked around the corner and gingerly approached the man kneeling in front of the third door on the right. The blond said nothing as he continued to pick up the papers. Deciding that she should help him, she squatted down and reached out to grab a few of the papers. Her fingers brushed along one of the pages that was just out of reach; this startled the man, or so it seemed, for he jumped and snapped his head up quickly. His eyes turned to her and she felt her heart leap. The sudden action surprised her and she, balancing on her toes, fell back.

Ah! What's wrong? she thought quickly. Did I do something? Does he want to be alone?

"I-I'm sorry," she began, "I - I didn't …"

"I didn't see you there," he began, turning his eyes away. "I apologize."

A pale blush stained the girl's face. She had never seen this tenant before, which was strange since she thought she'd seen everyone on this floor at least once. Had he just moved in? She pulled herself to her feet and the man followed her example.

"I was just wondering if you needed help," Momo said softly.

"Me?" He sounded surprised.

Momo smiled, "Yeah."

"Oh … Well … I was just picking these up." He shifted the papers into his other arm, "It's not a big task."

"Oh, all right." Pausing, she glanced up at the man who loomed over her. He was tall. Very tall. But not in an intimidating way, like Toshirou's friend Ikkaku or … any of them, really. The man seemed to be tall in a kind and gentle way - if it was possible to be tall in a gentle way. Much taller than her ex-boyfriend, as well. Not that she was thinking of him!

"Uhm," Momo began hesitantly. "That … That woman …?" She was unsure if it was rude or not to ask, but she felt compelled to. The man turned and watched her.

"Yes?"

"Ah … I don't mean to pry, but … who was she?"

"Oh. You mean the one that …?" He didn't finish his sentence. Sighing, he turned his eyes down and prepared to explain to the young girl what had happened. As he opened his mouth to speak, he was cut off.

"I'm sorry! W-We haven't even exchanged names and I am asking about your personal life! Please forgive me!"

He looked up as she placed her hands on her thighs and bowed deeply, her long pony swinging over her shoulder and brushing against the ground. The corner of his lips twitched in a slight smile. As she stood up, she brushed her pony over her shoulder and smiled herself. She clasped her hands together and placed them over her stomach.

"I'm sorry …"

"It's all right. It's no problem."

"Ah - I … I'm Momo," she said, sticking out her right hand and smiling. "Momo Hinamori."

The man hesitated before taking her hand in his and shaking it, "Nice to meet you Momo … I'm Izuru Kira."

She grinned, blushing. "Nice to meet you, Kira-san!"

"Please," he began in his low voice, dropping her hand. "Call me Izuru."

"I don't think I can do that! We've just met and - it's so informal!"

"The first time we met and you saw me crawling on the ground picking up papers … I think that's pretty informal. You can call me Izuru."

She blushed more, though mostly out of embarrassment for him, and looked down. "Th-Then I will call you Izuru …" Perhaps what she needed more than fresh air was someone to talk to in order to distract her from the silver-haired boy.

"Oh, let me get that for you!" She reached out and grabbed the papers that were slipping from Izuru's arms. Hugging them to her chest, she beamed up at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, slightly confused. How could someone be so happy? So cheerful and energetic? Especially with weather like this. Turning towards the door behind him, he pulled out a key from his pocket and inserted it into the door. The quiet click was heard and he pushed open the door, stepping inside. Momo followed, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage. Was it a bad idea to go into an apartment with a man she'd only just met? A man who insisted on her calling him by his first name - no honorifics? That was too informal too fast, wasn't it?

Izuru passed by her, muttering something quietly. There was a small table against the wall to the right where he dropped the apartment key into a small dish and walked into the small kitchen on the left. Momo closed the door behind her and tried to place the papers on the same table, but there were too many and the table was too small. She dropped half the pages and scrambled to pick them up before Izuru noticed she'd created a mess. Flustered, she grabbed the stack and hurried to set them on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. As she stood up, she caught reflection of herself in the mirror that hung on the wall across from where she stood. Her face heated up with embarrassment. Her eyes were red and puffy and the little eyeliner and mascara that she wore was streaked down her cheeks. She licked the tip of her right index finger and began to scrub away at the black make-up. It wasn't coming off. Of course it wasn't - it was three days old and dried, no, glued to her skin probably permanently. Why hadn't she looked in a mirror before she left her apartment?!

"Would you like something to drink?"

The cool voice made her jump and she snapped her head towards the kitchen. She blushed at her reaction. "Y-Yeah, sure."

"All right …"

There was the clattering of a pot being put on the stove and the water running. Momo glanced back towards the mirror, scrubbing under her eyes with the backside of her wrist. She might as well have used Sharpie as make-up because it was not coming off of her skin. Finally giving up, she walked to the kitchen and peeked inside, watching as Izuru pulled out the kettle from the sink and plopped it on the stove. He glanced over at her.

"Tea?"

Blushing, she turned her eyes down quickly. "Yes, please!"

Izuru was silent, staring at her. Her pale peach skintone matched her name, which he personally thought was quite nice (even stained with old make-up and ruddy from what seemed to be either allergies or tears). How could he have not known her? She obviously lived in the apartment complex - she wasn't wet from the rain outside, which mean she had to have been inside. Unless she had stayed in an apartment with someone and was just now leaving … that was a possibility. One that he wasn't going to ask about, because he wasn't sure if he wanted the answer. Turning back to the stove, he reached over to the drawer on his right and pulled out a tin of tea leaves. Would it be alright if he decided to keep her as company for more than an hour? Surely the woman wouldn't come back … A short temper would cause her to be gone for quite a while to cool off.

The screeching kettle and billows of steam snapped Izuru out of his daydream. He stepped back, surprised. How long did he zone out? He could've used that time to chat up the girl waiting in his living room … Picking out a white ceramic mug from the drying rack on the counter, he set it upright and poured water into it, followed by a metal tea infused filled with the crushed leaves. He glanced to the doorway to see if Momo was still watching him, but she was gone. If he could stop spacing out, then maybe he could keep a girlfriend.

Dropping the infuser into the sink, he picked up the cup and walked out to the living room where Momo was sitting on the couch, her hands in her lap. She looked uncomfortable, even on the blush cushions, surrounded by throw pillows and a few knitted afghans. He stood there for a while, holding the burning cup of tea in his hands. Finally he cleared his throat and she looked up, her face red.

"Oh!"

He passed her the cup and she smiled at him.

"Th-Thank you."

He hesitated. "You're welcome," he said after a long pause. He sat in the armchair across from the couch, moving another throw pillow out of the way. There were so many, he realized.

"Ahh," she said after sipping from the mug, "aren't you going to drink anything?"

"No."

"Oh." The stern and quick reply surprised her. She wrapped her thin fingers around the cup, letting the warmth radiate through her hands. She turned her eyes down to the bubbling tea, feeling her face warm up as well. "Thank you very much … for the tea."

"You're welcome." Why would she thank him twice? Or … maybe she hadn't thanked him yet. It seemed like he was forgetting an awful lot of stuff recently - at least that's what he'd been told. Perhaps it was from exhaustion. He had been tired of late, and he suspected it was from all the stress of moving from this apartment into a new one. On top of that, he had his possibly ex-girlfriend milling around in an annoyed fashion. Again.

"Th-That woman …?" Momo began quietly, gaining Izuru's attention. He opened his eyes to look at her. "She was … you …?"

"Girlfriend."

"Ah." Girlfriend. For some reason, the girl's heart began to sink a little. She had no idea way, considering that she had just met the man. They were barely even acquaintances. There was nothing between them, Izuru and her. But she still felt a bit jealous and disappointed. Shaking her head, she stared into her cup. It's just because of Toshirou. You're still grieving! Give it time … You don't need to jump into the arms of another man so quickly. It's too soon. Even … Even if Toshirou is already dating someone… You don't need to be dating someone too. Clearing her throat, she mumbled, "She was very pretty."

"I thought so too," Izuru replied.

The comment seemed a bit forward for Momo and she wasn't sure how to respond. Of course, if the circumstances had been flipped, she probably could have gone on and on about how handsome Toshirou was - if they were still dating. But then again, if they were still dating she probably would not be sitting in this man's apartment, drinking tea, talking about his girlfriend. She feigned a smile, "You are very lucky."

The depressed-looking man sighed heavily. I suppose so."

Now that was rude. Momo couldn't believe this man would act that way about the woman he was dating. Who "supposes" they are lucky to be dating the person they love? Momo had always considered herself to be the luckiest person on earth when she was with Toshirou. In the silence that followed, Momo was at a loss for words. Finally she just blurted out whatever she could think of.

"What is her name?"

"Nanao."

"That's very pretty."

"Yes."

"Hmm." The two fell silent again, sitting in the dimly-lit room. This was much more awkward than Momo anticipated and she half wished she hadn't accepted his invitation to come inside. She made a point of finishing the tea quickly and set the cup on the coffee table before standing. "I must get going."

Izuru looked up, "So soon?" He was a bit disappointed to have her leave; it seemed like she was only there for a minute.

Momo smiled gently, her bright eyes shining sadly. "I hadn't planned on stopping here. I'll be late." Her statement was only a half-lie. She hadn't planned on drinking tea with a wonderfully kind and handsome man - even if he was pretty forward and awkward - but she, in fact, didn't have anywhere to be, which meant she could not possibly be late for anything. She bowed deeply, making sure her hair didn't knock over the cup. "Thank you, Izuru-san." Standing, she gave him another smile. "It would be wonderful if I could meet you again, but now I must leave."

Before he could stand and show her out, she hurried to the door. Pulling it open and rushing out into the hall, she left the man by himself. The door closed slowly behind her, clicking to signal that it was locked from the outside. Izuru sat in silence, staring at the seat the girl had just been sitting in. A strange, sad feeling overtook him. He had felt for a while now that there was a void somewhere deep inside him - a hole where something had to fit in. It had been alright for a while, and had even been somewhat filled when he met Nanao. He didn't realize that when Momo came in and sat down on his couch, drank his tea, talked with him, it had been filled. Completely. He really hadn't felt all that different while she was there, but now that she was gone and he was alone, it seemed that the void inside him was bigger and deeper than before. His face paled slightly and his eyes darkened. The void was becoming a black hole. When would be the next time he saw her? Or even Nanao? She'd walked out on him so many times, and he really always expected her to never come back. There was a feeling of relief when she did show up at their apartment, argument forgotten, tantrum over. But what if she didn't come back this time? What was he going to do?

Izuru stood and scooped up the mug from the coffee table. As he did so, he caught the scent of what seemed to be peaches and vanilla. He stood up to stare at the couch. It was coming from where Momo was sitting. Perfume? Shampoo? Lotion? Whatever it was, it was lovely. Feeling a blush cross his cheeks, he muttered under his breath and carried the cup to the kitchen sink. It slipped from his hands onto the counter and he left it there, letting a few drops of stray tea drip from the rim. He'd clean it later; he was too tired now.

This sad feeling that came over him was different than what he had felt before. It seemed worse. He felt worse. Worse than when Nanao left; worse than when his best friend Renji moved to another prefecture in high school; worse than when his college roommate, Gin, graduated early and took an international job in America. It seemed that everybody left him, but for some reason this brunette girl made him feel the worst out of all the others. Maybe it was because with the others, there was the hope of seeing them again - Renji would come to visit every now and again, Gin sent him postcards and letters from his new home in America, Nanao showed up in the apartment in the middle of the night without saying a word about their fights. But who knew if he'd ever see this girl again? Momo - Momo Hinamori, who lived in the same apartment complex as him, and smelled like peaches and vanilla, and spoke in such a soft and kind voice he strained to hear her. Momo who showed up at his apartment to help him, even though she didn't even know him; Momo who went out into the world with puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and make-up smeared across her face.

Izuru sunk into his chair and stared at the couch across from him. Nanao, Renji, Gin … He'd see them all again. He'd meet with them, talk with them, go out for lunch or coffee, and update them about his life and they'd talk about their lives but … How would he mention this? Bring this up in a conversation?

You've see, I've met this very nice girl … About a week ago she came over and had some tea. And I haven't seen her since. But I can't stop thinking about her.

Renji would probably tease him about it - "Ah, you've got a crush, Kira? It's about time you came around and went for someone, you know … nice."

Gin would probably smile and nod and not say much, though he may prod a little about what she looked like and how exactly they met. "Make sure you don't crush her," he'd say. "She sounds so small. You might walk over to her apartment and accidentally step on her and kill her."

And Nanao? Nanao would be pissed. But then again, when was she not angry?

It didn't matter. It didn't matter what Renji and Gin and Nanao and everyone else said or thought. It didn't even matter if nothing ever came out of it, and he made a fool of himself and Momo never wanted to see him again. He just knew that right now, at least once more, he needed to see her. He needed to be near her.