Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Thunderheads
A/N: Post-Winter War.
There would be no eulogies for the captain. No one would read about his death in the Bulletin, for they already knew. There would be no visitors to the little cabin, the one in which he'd lived before coming to join their organization. There would be no children running about in the Rukon, bearing his name, or even his features.
There would be only one who mourned him, only one who would remember him. She had been there, firm at his side, cradling his broken body in her arms. She would see the stains of his blood on her uniform, her hands, her arms, her face, each morn she woke and stood before the washroom mirror.
Over her shoulder, she would see him, as he had been before, just a little boy with a dream. A little boy who had wanted so dearly to protect her.