I'm running a race but one always wins. It's never me. It's never been me. So maybe know I can win, even for a second, maybe I can win. Her hand gently cups the back of my head, and nausea attacks me, but its nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. A kaleidescope of colors swirl around me and I smile distantly. I'm lifted up a centimeter, an inch, but I feel myself slipping even farther the closer I'm held. I'm bleeding faster and faster and faster and the blood flows thicker with every second.
Wet tears land on my face and I manage to turn my head a fraction of an inch.
"Are you crying?"
A harsh, choking, sobbing sounds from above me and I smile just a bit, lift myself up a few inches and nearly sputtering with the effort. The pain barely compares to the feelings I'm experiencing. Joy for being this close to her; horror that she's crying over me, nirvana for the same reason. And some far off, unnameable feeling I liked more than I should admit. Black ate at the corner of my vision; but there was peace beyond that black; I wanted to go there so much. But I just had to do this so she would know once and for all, so she would know with my last breath I supported what she thought was some simple fancy.
"Ichigo, I'll teach you something good . . ."