AN: So this is an idea that came to me after I had a dream about Rangiku and Ulquiorra. Unrelated I know but somehow my spaghetti mind got me here. This is purely for my own satisfaction and wanting to express my ideas on paper but I hope someone else can enjoy this too! Please review and give me input! I love getting new ideas.

There will be light spoilers as this does concern the Thousand Year Blood War ark. But most of what is mentioned in this story is non-canonical after chapter 600 or so.

This story is Rangiku-centric. It won't have many OC's but there might be one or two along the way to further the plot. I will try to keep everyone as canonical as possible behavior wise so please give me your input and let me know what you think of them!

Also this chapter has been updated and touched up so maybe reread if you read it before 8/2? Thanks!

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Chapter one: The End

Death is much more dramatic the second time.

That was the thought filling my mind as I lay there amongst the rubble that was once Soul Society. A location turned into to a battleground after the first year of the Thousand Year blood war and a graveyard during what followed. Had souls not disappeared after a while I'm sure I would have been laying on top of a few. The stench was still in the air.

A cool breeze drafted past and it made me realize that everything hurt. The stab wound on my left leg. The burns on my back. The spot where my right arm had been years ago. My pink scarf and half of my Haori was still in tact but the necklace that was so precious to me had been destroyed so long ago I couldn't recall what it looked like.

Red and Gray ash flicked across my gaze. The smell of copper and sulfur was strong. A thick warm liquid touched the fingers of my left arm. It formed little red streams in the cracks of the ground but there was still enough to coat my arm. And this blood wasn't actually mine.

I tried to laugh at the irony that the one next to me actually bled still, but it came out as a gargled cough as a mouthful of blood tried to slip down my throat. I turned my head to the side, trying to drain my mouth of the sweet and salty substance.

Haineko was gone, only the hilt remaining. She was disintegrating and disappearing from my very soul as I faded away. I was glad I'd never get the chance to miss her. Living without something that was part of you...

The stump where my right arm had been ached in reminder.

When I turned to the side I could see the man next to me with his eyelids pulled back. But he couldn't see me. It was just empty eye sockets where there used to be the most piercing black eyes.

"Bya.." The word wouldn't come out.

It mattered not. The man couldn't hear me. Blood was crusted around his ears just like his eyes. His mouth. His nose. Every orifice. His chest barely moved with the strain of keeping alive. He couldn't even kill himself to free himself from the pain.

Matted black hair stuck to his face, a few pieces entering the empty sockets. If there was anything other than blood in my stomach I might have used the last bit of energy I had to throw up. If only he would just die already. But the Noble Kuchiki was nothing if not stubborn.

I slowly reached my hand out in what had to be the most painful movement yet. I clumsily wiped a piece of hair from his face. I tried to restore what he had once been. I wanted to see the noble and refined man again. Not this mutilated shell.

I couldn't. I couldn't unsee it.

Through the pain I wouldn't admit I was scared. If anything I was relieved. In a bittersweet way I was glad it was finally over.

Pain. Relief. Regret.

I lost. WE lost. As I reflected on the good times- times forgotten in the war- I wished it had ended another way. I was glad before the war I'd spent so much time slacking off. I was glad that I got that last drink with Kira-Kun in. I was glad I dragged Hisagi-Kun to the Hotsprings. Now all I really wanted was one more day like that.

A gargled noise came from Byakuya's mouth. A plea. One I couldn't ignore. If I adjusted my eyes up I could see orange hair over the rubble. A dark figure not too far off. Footsteps slowly vibrating through the earth. Anticipation made my hair stand on end.

A feeling of fear penetrated my hand. Byakuya Kuchiki felt afraid.

I wasn't going to live much longer. Not with half my torso missing and my entire body shredded. I might not even last as long as Byakuya.

I couldn't let that happen. Not out of a desire to live but a desire to end his pain. The hand still resting on his face slid down to his throat. I didn't cry. I didn't look away. My nails dug deeply into his skin. At first it looked like I was strangling him. But I pressed harder.

Oh how it hurt. The effort of it was shortening the time I had left. It was splitting my fingertips. I coughed, blood splattering his face. But I pressed on. My nails dug into the tender skin of his flesh until it broke under the strain. My nails cracked with the effort as I forced fingers into my skin. I was slowly ripping his throat out. It was more painful for him but through it I felt a rush of relief. From me or him I didn't know.

I never looked away because I needed to see what I was doing. I would give Byakuya that much respect. He convulsed one last time. His tongueless mouth was forced open by all the blood behind his teeth like floodgates.

When he finally stilled and the blood stopped running completely I let my hand fall. I couldn't look any longer. I never cried, I never showed weakness. My eyes directed to the landscape beyond. The dark shadowy man was closer now.

I was glad nobody had seen my final act.

"S-sorry Ich- Ichigo... In the... end, I wasn' much help was... I?" It was surprisingly hard to talk.

But the Orange haired Ryoka lying beyond didn't respond. I could barely see his orange ruffles sticking up above the rubble and part of his face- covered in red and indiscernible except a stark eye. Blood pooled into the wrinkles in the corner of his eye like a tear.

An empty brown eye.

Kurosaki Ichigo was dead.

No. I focused to see past the blood pouring out of my own head wound clouding my vision and my brain. Ichigo was-

"Still alive?"

At first I thought the cold voice was speaking to me. Despite the previous encounters my heart still skipped a beat in the same fear I swore I wouldn't feel. The spiritual energy of the man wasn't crushing these days. I'd long since adjusted. But I could still feel it permeating every part of my body. It always made me feel so vulnerable.

But the footsteps of the tall dark haired Quincy approached Ichigo instead. He was an older man, striking a slight resemblance to Ichigo-kun in his raggedy appearance. Age hadn't treated Ichigo well after all. The middle aged man looked well beyond his years.

The Quincy's hair was black as the veil behind Hueco Mundo. It bellowed in the wind and blended with his black cloak as he raised his sword. Then there was movement as a half-broken black sword was raised just in time to block the attack. The Shockwave was strong enough to blow a thick layer of dust over me.

"Don't worry Rangiku, this ain't over yet."

But the way his voice shook broke that promise.

"Your resistance is futile. Your friends are gone. Soul society has fallen. Your head captain died centuries ago. Let go now Ichigo. You have done well my child. You have done better than anyone before you. Do not despair! I shall give you a glorious death." Yhwach taunted Ichigo.

As if on cue Ichigo glanced towards me. I could see his dull brown eye slowly regaining light and it terrified me. How could he still hope? Oh Ichigo...

"Is it because this one lives?"

I felt fear. Cold and hollow. I swore I wouldn't but it invaded me. Byakuya fell into my line of sight once more. This man wasn't right in the head. Though calm and collected exterior was just a farce. He'd do anything to destroy Ichigo body and soul. It was nothing more than a game and Yhwach knew no bounds.

To prevent the risking the same faith I desperately wished I could end it like I did Byakuya's. But all my energy had been depleted in that last act.

Yhwach was above me now. I turned my eyes from Byakuya to him and kept my gaze firm.

"It will be done," Yhwach spoke.

"Rangiku-"

I heard the start of Ichigo's sentence. Then nothing.

Maybe dying a second time was actually much less dramatic.

Then... I felt.

That was enough to tell me something was wrong. Souls that died re-interred the rebirth cycle but I was finished by a Quincy. Part of what made the thousand year blood war so hard was the fact that we would never be reborn.

And yet I felt the sun kissing my cheeks. I felt the wind massaging my scalp. The ground beneath me was jagged and sharp with rocks. But it wasn't the same rubble as before. And it was much hotter and brighter out. I felt no pain at all!

I bolted up, the force of my actions stronger than intended as I suddenly flew forward with a small shriek. It was like gravity was nearly gone.

"What- What is this!" I exclaimed. How was I alive at all? I was definitely dead and why-

When I tried to get a feel for things and stood up the same thing happened as before. I tripped over my own feat and ended up on my behind with a pile of dust.

I found it funny that it was what alerted me that my body really was strange was how my chest didn't tug painfully when I jolted down.

And when I looked down it was gone. Well, not completely but they were small. In fact my whole body was. Even the right arm that was supposed to be missing was back. But "A freaking child?" I whined loudly.

I would be the only one reborn with my memories still in tact. Even though I wanted to forget them.

"You must have just woken up," A kind old voice came from the left.

I jolted my head in the direction of the voice. My left hand quickly went to my side to grasp at the air where my sword should have been. I only stopped when a realization hit me. I knew that voice!

An old man stood a little ways away from me in the dirt clearing. He carried himself with raggedy cane. "You must have-"

"-just arrived eh little girly?" I finished in my mind. I knew this moment. I knew exactly what this man would say to me as he walked closer. I wasn't just reborn as anyone. I'd been reborn as myself.

That or Aizen was alive and playing a cruel joke. One he shouldn't know anything about.

This man was the one that had first guided me in the ways of the soul society when I first arrived in North Rukon district 64. Thought I didn't remember much about my early days I remembered him. I remembered everything about this moment.

And the stark reality was in front of me. I was somehow back at the beginning. I didn't know exactly how long ago I got to the soul society- I never counted the days until I met Gin- but it was probably about 400 years before I joined soul society give or take a hundred years.

While the old man spoke I tuned out the familiar scene to try and think about it. I had no Zanpakuto- Heineko wasn't responding either which was concerning since our relationship had improved in the thousand year blood war. She rarely ever ignored me.

But I was back at the beginning. This was way before Aizen. And even if this was an illusion I had to take the chance! And if it wasn't then I needed to-

"I-I'm sorry Kito-san I have to go," I stood up suddenly, bowing to the old man before stumbling away like a newborn deer trying to learn how to walk again. The old man didn't get a chance to ask how I could know his name or anything else for that matter.

My only concern was to get to the soul society. If I was in district 64 like I was last time I had a few days of flash step before I could make it there. Then I'd explain what had happened with the final war to Yamamoto-taichou and we'd stop it.

It would be easy right?