Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the Bleach characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

Shells and Sand

Prompt: Take it all the way...

A/N: Written for LJ.


To be sure, it was a long shot. Seeking him out could only end one of two ways: He would accept her with open arms, or he would turn his back on her proposal, wounding her heart. It wasn't news that she was fading from this world, but she wanted to find some kind of meaning before she left. Something that would assure her that this life hadn't been a waste of time, blood, and effort. That crawling through the slums, trying to claw her way to the top, had actually been a worthwhile endeavor.

It was there, on the edge of town, that she spotted him. His blade was drawn, dripping blood and ichor as he hovered over yet another victim, eyes burning into the skull of the deceased. He turned, her eyes noting several shallow wounds littering his arms and chest, beads of blood leaving little trails as he sheathed his sword. Were she anyone else, she surely would have run screaming from the sight. But she admired him, this man caught between light and shadow. His strength was something that she'd always wished existed within herself. Perhaps, if she had been born as strong as he, she wouldn't be off on this crazy errand, seeking his acceptance.

But this was the road that fate had placed before her. A difficult one, stained with the blood of a thousand corpses, piled high and burning. With all her efforts, she had trudged past that charred mountain of flesh, eyes set up on the brightly lit horizon that waited in the distance. Now, it seemed, she would never reach that beautiful sight. She would die in this place, this little strip of misery and woe. That was why she had sought him out, hoping that something in those eyes would give her just a shred of hope and accomplishment.

His gaze lingered upon her, dark and penetrating. It was feral, like that of a wild beast, but she was unfazed. Her life had been a montage of bloodshed and suffering, and she'd be damned if she let this man turn her away without so much as a word. She climbed to her feet, dirt clinging to the hem of her kimono as she approached him, standing straight and staring him in the eye. Now, mere feet away from him, she swallowed the lump in her throat, offering him her hand.

For a moment, his eyes seemed to linger on his face, the lust for blood vanishing completely. She flinched as he moved, clamping her eyes shut as she expected him to cut her down. If this was the way she was meant to depart, then so be it. Death, once decided, could not be changed, and she wouldn't be made a fool by fleeing. A soft laugh met her ears, prodding her to open her eyes, his hand resting fondly on her head, a smile on his face.

In turn, she grinned, eyes lighting up as the sun sank behind the hills. This, she decided, was what she's spent her life looking for. A place where she could be recognized, and the person who would give her something to be proud of. Perhaps, she wasn't just a bottle of sand. There were some bright shells mixed in as well.