Author's Note

Hello everyone, I'm baaaack! :D With a new story, hopefully with longer chapters and better descriptions, and my favourite pairings :) I'll try to update this as much as possible, so enjoy! Oh, this prologue was heavily influenced by another fic I read where it started also with the final showdown. Please don't accuse me of plagiarism! Oh, and this prologue is pretty long for a prologue. Yet I couldn't bear to cut it :( Means that I have to try my best to write long chapters, or chapters even longer than this. That's gonna be a challenge... Anyway, hope you enjoy this! Thank you!

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INOUE ORIHIME

I'm floating.

Encapsulated in a huge, transparent bubble that's inches off the ground, I can only watch as my comrades fight and are being fought against.

My feelings of helplessness are further intensified by the fact that even though I can see them, none of them can see me. I cannot even let them know I am supporting them, that even though I am too weak to do anything, I am cheering them on.

Aizen-sama is so cruel.

I tear my eyes away from Sado-kun's lifeless body and Soi Fon-taichou bleeding profusely all over the throne room floor. Red, red keeps coming out. Red against white. White against red.

I am near catatonic after watching this battle for hours.

A flash of white appears in front of me, obscuring my view of Soi Fon-taichou. I see the sign of the Fourth Division, and I feel relief. Soi Fon-taichou will not die, with Unohana-taichou looking after her. In the final showdown against Aizen-sama and the Arrancars, we cannot afford to have casualties.

Or rather, I cannot bear to have casualties. Too many people have fought and died over me.

While Unohana-taichou is seemingly intent on healing Soi Fon-taichou completely, I see another flash of white, but this time it is coupled with black hair and a spark of green. My eyes widen. I would have known that shade of green anywhere – my captor, Ulquiorra Schiffer.

The spark of green against Ulquiorra's hand, as pale as death, widens and brightens, to an extent where I have to shield my eyes. I want to scream to Unohana-taichou, to tell her, "Run!" But while I can hear the muted sounds of metal against metal, screams and grunts of battle, they cannot hear me.

Like I said, Aizen-sama is indeed, a cruel man.

All of a sudden, the green light shining through my closed eyelids disappears. I open my eyes hesitantly, afraid to see two female bodies before me.

Instead, I see Ulquiorra with a lethal, mace-like sword with spikes on it through his chest. His eyes flicker towards it, and then narrow. I turn to see his attacker, but am blinded by green light. After the smoke has faded away, I see Ulquiorra lying on the ground, red staining his snow-white chest, the colour and life gone out of his brilliantly green eyes.

Still holding the offending sword is the traitor Ichimaru Gin. My eyes widen. Ichimaru was not a real traitor after all! Instead of the extended Shinsou Ichimaru was said to possess, his weapon has developed. This is probably his Bankai. While his sword is spectacular – gleaming as brightly as the moon, the tips of the spikes pointed like fangs – Ichimaru himself is dying.

Ulquiorra's last Cero has inflicted a fatal wound on him, and seeing the poor man who turned traitor on Aizen-sama at the last minute die in front of me, I long to shout "Reject!" and return him to his original, unhurt state. But as long as Aizen-sama lives, this barrier exists, and I am kept a witness to the battle.

A scream pierces the air. "Gin!" Rangiku-san rushes over, her eyes a whirlpool of emotions. Relief, anger, sadness, shock, horror – there are too many to describe. They are too heartbreaking to.

"Rangiku…" The once joking and lilting accent of Ichimaru Gin is now a grimace of pain.

"Don't move, Gin! Don't move!" Rangiku-san says, panicked. "We must get someone to help you… Unohana-taichou! Help!"

"Don't… bother…" Ichimaru's words are becoming more disembodied, even with the slight soundproofing of my bubble. I see him open his blue-green eyes. Whereby once they glinted like shards of ice, they are now cloudy and misty.

"I… d'serve to die… fer my sins. But… It was good ta see ya 'gain, Ran-chan." With that, his eyes close and his chest stops heaving. Rangiku-san hugs him close and wails a cry I have never heard before. It is a cry of pain, when one's closest dies. I want to run over to Rangiku-san, to comfort her and tell her it's alright, to help her liked she once helped me. But I cannot do anything, and I hate myself.

Tears flowing freely now, I look away from the two lovers and my gaze darts to the far end of the room, settling on a tall figure dressed in swirling black coupled with streaks of white, the bright orange of his hair cutting a huge contrast.

Kurosaki-kun. Ichigo.

He moves with lightning-speed to where I know Aizen-sama is. But Aizen-sama seems to have seen his plan, and instantly I feel the barrier disappear. There is no time to escape, for I find myself in Aizen-sama's iron fist, his hand around my throat, choking the life out of me.

"Kurosaki Ichigo. Would you kill me if I had this woman's life in my hands?"

"So what if you do? I'll just save Inoue and then kill you!"

"Strong words." I hear Aizen-sama's low chuckle, through the fog collecting in my brain. I am dying from the lack of air. Aizen-sama's fist closes even tighter around my throat and I do not think I can hold out any more.

With all my strength, I squeak out, "Aizen… sama…"

"Do not speak, fool. Do you think you can plead for your life? Even after I know about your impending betrayal by rejecting the Hougyoku?"

Even with Aizen-sama's grip on me, I break out into a cold sweat. He knew? All this time?

"AIZEN! Your opponent is me!" Kurosaki-kun bellows, like the loud and determined person he is. His voice takes on a metallic quality as I feel tendrils of Hollow reiatsu collect around him to solidify, forming the shape of a mask on his face. Hollow form.

Hurry, hurry.

Leave me, let me be.

"Ahhhhhh!" Kurosaki-kun yells and rushes forward. I feel the wind blowing at me. Aizen-sama's fingers tighten yet again, and I am sure it is over.

A second later, I am in Kurosaki-kun's arms, the pressure on my neck gone. But I hear Kurosaki-kun's pained grimace and I know something is wrong. We both fall to the floor and I come away from Kurosaki-kun with blood staining the pristine white of my Arrancar outfit. No. No. I turn around, and see Aizen-sama with his sword out and a smirk on his lips.

"Get back, Inoue!" I am pushed back, and I hear Kurosaki-kun's voice straining. He is gathering all his strength, preparing for one last go at Aizen-sama. But he mustn't do it. He's injured; he'll get hurt. He mustn't do it!

"Kurosaki-kun!"

I am too late.

"GETSUGA… TENSHOU!"

This attack is unlike any other I have ever seen. It reverberates with unholy power and causes it to take on the shape of a huge, taloned monster. It scares me, as Kurosaki-kun's Hollow form always does. But this fear is different. It makes me want to run away and never look back. Still, I remain where I am, and despire my fear, my confidence rises. Aizen-sama could not possibly take such a hit.

And I am right. Aizen-sama is engulfed by the attack, the taloned monster shrieking and tearing into him. As he disappears, I see a hint of a smile on his face. But soon, all that is left of Aizen-sama are the footprints on the once shining, but now bloodstained throne room floor.

"It's… over…" I hear Kurosaki-kun's tired and relieved voice, but with the hint of a smile.

I try to stand, but my legs give way and I collapse. Whatever force gave me the power to stand just now, has now disappeared. I am incapacitated. I cannot go to Kurosaki-kun's side.

"Ichigo!"

I hear Kuchiki-san's voice, urgent and worried. She shunpos past me without glancing at me. Her sword, too, is stained with blood. Blood, blood, blood. The colour, the texture, the feel of it are all branded into my memory.

"Kuchiki… san?"

"ICHIGO!" Her cry turns anguished and if possible, even more pained than Rangiku-san's. And then I see the red flower blossoming on the floor beneath Kurosaki-san, and I understand.

Kurosaki-kun – no, Ichigo – is dying.

"Kuro… saki… san…" Even my voice is giving way. I slump to the floor, and now I understand why I could never fight in the first place. I am too weak. I always have been weak, compared to these Shinigami.

"Ichigo! Hang in there!" Kuchiki-san is agitated.

"Rukia… don't worry… I'll see you in Soul Society soon…"

"Baka! You aren't dying! You're staying with me!"

"Catch… ya later…" Another hint of a smile.

"Ichigo… Ichigo? ICHIGO!"

I tilt my head the slightest bit, and see Kuchiki-san holding Ichigo in her arms, sobbing as she cradles his head. Ichigo's limp arm falls from her back, and I slowly realize that arm will never move again.

Watching this, now I know: Ichigo has never loved me. I have never been the object of his affections. After all, what did I do to deserve it? Kuchiki-san is the right person for him. They were made for each other, never one without the other.

Now that Ichigo is gone, what will Kuchiki-san do?

My eyes close, and hot tears flow out from under my eyelids once again. It is over, I tell myself. It is over.

But why does it feel like the beginning?