*Slowly drowns happily under a large number of reviews* 7 reviews in one chapter? Holy shit, everyone! Thank you so much!

Italics in speech are usually English.

Of course, her little… incident was not without consequence. Large consequence. Rumors spread quickly. She could feel eyes on her now, every minute of every day. Careful observance for erratic behavior, even if the watcher themselves did not know. Eyes burning holes into the back of her neck, turning around the minute she noticed. It was infuriating. She could only count herself fortunate for not earning a true punishment. After all, it was an exemplary student's word against a few failing brats, with a history of bullying, too. And, of course, Karakura was not particularly known for the best security.

Publicity aside, her caretaker was furious. She had never seen Isshin seem so angry. Disappointed, even. His soft voice told her everything about his mood. It made her want to cower into the ground, beg for forgiveness, promise that she would never do such a terrible act again. Jeanmarie hated those feelings, because they had no right to lecture her, make her feel so low. (It was despicable, really, how this mind and body of hers reacted to such a fake father figure.)

To be truthful, he really didn't seem as angry about the fight, compared to what she had said before they had left.

Isshin terrified her. And she hated it.

"I didn't raise you to do things like that, Nori." Those sad, disappointed black eyes, somewhat angry, struck a chord in her chest, and she shoved down those feelings that came up. She kept her eyes glued firmly to the ground. (You didn't raise me at all.) "You didn't nearly have to do something so drastic, and saying such a thing to your siblings was unacceptable. You might have been provoked, but that's no reason to do something like that."

Jeanmarie kept her mouth shut, refusing to answer, forcing that feeling of disappointment into anger. How dare he? How could he know anything about it? He wasn't even there. This was unfair. He doesn't know anything. He wasn't even real. She didn't have to feel so-

Why was she so angry?

As if Isshin read her petulant, unrepentant, mood, his eyes darkened, voice rising, standing up from his chair, looming over her. "Do you understand the extent of what you've done? You almost killed the boy!" He thundered, and Jeanmarie flinched, digging her nails into her fists.

Cold sweat dripped down her neck.

She was terrified of Isshin, and she knew it.

The dark-haired man was still shouting, but she couldn't focus, Japanese merging into unintelligible yelling, tension and panic making her way up her spine. Her eyes were still fixed firmly at her feet, refusing to look up, because she was sure his face would be monstrous.

"Nori!" From the corner of her eyes, she saw a rustle of fabric, and the terror exploded. Flinching violently, she stumbled back, hands automatically jerking up, eyes squeezing shut as she cowered away, shiver running up her spine as her body reacted. The flight and fight instinct swept over her, and she could only just stop herself from falling down.

This wasn't Mother or Father. The stranger is yelling at her, looming over her, and she's scared, no, terrified, because she can't understand them, and they won't hold back, a threat, a danger, something that can and will hurt her-

(-runawayrunawayrunaway)

It takes a few moments, but her panic pauses, there's no pain, and she knows that it was just a false alarm. The yelling had stopped, too, and Isshin is quiet, for once. Pale, she straightened up, stiff and and ashamed and just a bit fearful.

It's silent, and she let's out a small, stifled gasp that seems to shudder in the air..

Jeanmarie risks a glance up, and oddly, it's Isshin that seems the most surprised. The tension goes on, and eventually, the man quietly leaves.

Pathetic, Her subconscious supplies, even when it's clearly just as scared.

Along with Isshin's new trained eyes following her, Ichigo won't speak to her, Yuzu is scared of her, and Karin actively seems to avoid her. It lasts, until summer warmth reared it's head.

She doesn't mind. It gives her more privacy to do things. She doesn't have to think about it anymore.

If there is something the whole thing teaches her, it's a few invaluable lessons.

First, the ability to control herself, even in such situations, was crucial to learn.

Second, the amount of attention she had wrought herself was already much too severe.

Thirdly, to survive in this world, you must be weak.

If you show a sign of power, rebellion, a highly definitive strength, be it physical, or mental, the world would definitely focus its attention upon you. Soul Society would definitely notice, the weight of the universe's stability would shift to her, and she would be responsible for things she could never even care about. She had forgotten, in her reckless, thoughtless, idiotic move, that she needed to stay low, needed to keep quiet, couldn't interfere with the story, for the survival of general humanity, for herself. She had forgotten, and paid her price. Attention would clearly be kept on her, and she would risk upheaval.

She had to be weak.

(She hated it.)

And as she sat on hot, heated porches, she could only feel cold. So, so cold. Jeanmarie wanted to go home. Home. What an odd concept, now. Was it just delirium? Was her whole life just a dream? Would she never go back?

What was the point?

She was trapped in circles with clocks that had stopped in time. Just a soul that turned into a mistake, stuck in a place that burned her up from inside. She hated it all. If she could make this Hell of hers freeze over, it would be so much better. Here she sat, barely blinking in the stinking heat. Still, the sun blazed. Still, the rain fell. Still, this fake, imaginary cage of hers locked her in, away from everyone and everything she had loved.

"Nori, do you want some melons?"

"Jeanmarie, do you want some apples?"

She hated melons.

(I want to run away)

Deathday anniversaries were the worst, she decided a few months later. Taking the time to climb a mountain to see a grave… it was annoying, at the least. And to visit It's grave, no less.

How useless. Climbing this hill once a year, maybe more, for something as idiotic as this.

"Hurry up, Nori! Stop lagging!'

Quickening her pace, she stepped up over roots and jogged, rushing to catch up with the people she had almost lost sight of in her thoughts. She sighed slightly as the entrance of the graveyard appeared, white stone slightly marred by time. "Yes, I'm here."

The first day, it was actually… hard to adjust to the lack of matter.

And then it was just what it was. Empty space.

Jeanmarie yawned, crawling out of her bed slowly. Peering through the sunlit hall, she found it strangely… lacking. Odd. Usually, Isshin would be running around already, and Yuzu and Karin would be doing something loudly. She quietly descended the stairs, making her way into the living room.

Ah.

She had forgotten.

A small picture of a woman stood on the table, the smoke and scent of grief plunging the room into darkness.

She stared at the picture.

Jeanmarie bent her head in tired formality, rolling her eyes in her head. This was such a waste of time. To pray to such spirits was worthless, especially now. They were dead and gone and dust, useless and lifeless.

And damn her if the world wasn't a better place.

And damn her she hated herself for thinking so.

(But she couldn't, couldn't bring herself to care, couldn't do anything but hate.)

Ichigo was glaring at the floor, Yuzu was starting to sniffle, and even Isshin looked minorly serious. Karin was clearly trying to keep her composure, but wasn't particularly succeeding. She could only be glad, she supposed, that everyone was too caught up in their idiotic grief of theirs (for someone fake, no less) to notice the lack of hers. Think of the fuss that would cause, when a child showed not a care for someone who had raised them. A dark, dark thought.

Then again, this was a dark world, wasn't it? They stayed still for a few more minutes, before the group started splitting up, Karin escorting Yuzu away, Ichigo tagging along. Isshin turned to leave a bit later.

Jeanmarie stayed behind. This wasn't uncommon, and Isshin barely glanced behind, gesturing for her to stay as long as she liked. He thought she was mourning, no doubt. What would he think if he saw her thoughts? She pondered this for a while, eyes fixed on the white gravestone. Would they shun her? Be repulsed? Abandon her? What would they do?

...What would she do?

She hummed thoughtfully, dragging her gaze up to the sky. Clearing her throat, she dragged her suddenly-dry tongue across her cracked lips. "Hello." She began, English pouring out of her lips. Pausing, she coughed into her fist (No, she didn't want to change, she didn't-) "Hello. I hope you're doing well up there. I hope you're not hurting and you're well cared for." She pursed her lips, something starting to burn in her throat, that cold, bitter coil around her gut tightening with every word.

It was too risky. People were, are, still around, people could still be eavesdropping. She shouldn't, she really shouldn't. She shouldn't. She had decided herself, after all, that her best bet was to be weak and detached and never, ever, strong, because that's what would let her survive.

At that thought, that knot in her stomach suddenly felt like it burst into flames, anger and hate that she still had to hide like this, she wanted homehomehome not this trickery and ink and paper.

(So she did it.)

"Hello. I am Jeanmarie Jiao Yan, and I've been living in your daughter's body for the past fifteen years. I've been trapped in this living hell for the past decade, and I hate it. I hate you. I was happy when you died, you replacement."

Jeanmarie's voice started as a whisper, a trickle of the rage, and then-

-And then it wouldn't stop, vision running red with that angry, angry hate that ran rivers out of her mouth, shooting forward like it could break and shatter that white, paper stone.

"You think I'd actually care whether you were dead or not? You're nothing but ink and paper! You don't even have free will. 'Masaki'? What a fucking joke. That's barely a name that some author decided to give his character. I'm the only person here. Not you, not 'Isshin', not those things that think I'm their actual sister." She snorted, "I killed this Nori a long time ago. Not that she was even supposed to exist. Her? I probably damned her soul to hell, or whatever that exists. I'm not your daughter, you sick fuck!"

Jeanmarie's rage roared, that bloody red fire covering her sense, and her eyes burned with salt. She wanted something to hurt, something to punch, something to curse and hate and burn. She wanted something, anything, to hurt and maim and feel exactly the same way because she was sick and tired and wanted to go home.

(She ignored the tears, because they were weak and damn her if she would let herself be so now.)

"I bet this is all just a game to you, just watching me try to do this! I just want to go home, okay!? I can't stand your fake names and compliments! You're only ever talking to Nori, but none of you even know that I already killed her! I don't want you! I want my mom! I want my dad! I want everything in this world to burn and die!"

"I want my brother back!"

"I want my life back!"

"Why did it have to be me?"

"Just stop already."

"I hope you're suffering up there."

"Just… Let me go, already."

And then they were there, and she struggled and hit and screamed bloody hell, but she couldn't move because they were choking strangling killing her, wrapped around her neck and legs until she couldn't move. As her face was buried into someone's chest, someone who smelled like smoke and antiseptic and not home, as the wrong name was spoken again and again, she could only cry.

Cry, because this was the wrong person. Cry because this wasn't who she wanted. Scream and yell and break, because she was so, so angry and hated them all, because she was tired and just wanted to sleep.

Jeanmarie couldn't even bring herself to care anymore about blowing her cover, because she just wanted to leaveleaveleave and never come back to this again.

(Let me go home.)

...

Isshin is tearing apart.

His daughter is quietly fading, and he thinks. He can see it in every choice she makes, in every word she speaks. She's locking herself into a prison, and it's hurting her, just as it hurts him. Maybe he hadn't noticed, chosen not to notice, but as her form turns away and she flinches, just because he crossed his arms, it's like it slaps him across the face.

"..." He doesn't say anything, because he doesn't have anything to say, not anymore.

The face she wore was terrified, and he doesn't know what to do, because his own daughter is afraid of him, and he's never raised a hand against her, never needed to, never would. As he stands there, frozen at the sudden, telling movement, he can tell that she doesn't trust him, not at all.

Had she ever? he thinks, curling his arms tighter around her, ignoring the way she thrashed recklessly, broken words cracking through her.

The next few nights are stiflingly awkward, and Nori stonily ignores him and Ichigo, Yuzu and Karin, and he doesn't know what to say. How could he, when he couldn't even come to terms with the facts?

His daughter was scared of him.

His own daughter hated him. Even as she calmed down, she was stiff, so stiff, untrusting, scared.

(And he didn't know why.)

Ichigo hated his sister.

He hated himself, he decided, small arms clutched tightly around her torso, eyes clenched shut.

He doesn't know when he started feeling like that, but he knows he does. He knows that he hates his sister.

It's all his fault this was happening. If only he hadn't gone after that girl..!

Nori used to be so nice. She was a really cool sister, and she took care of him whenever their parents were out. She wasn't ever mean, never hit him, wasn't that bad guy everyone always said older siblings were. Nori was really gentle and kind and attentive. She…

...Hated him.

Curling up under his blanket, Ichigo gripped his bedsheets hard enough that his knuckles turned white, gritting his teeth as he willed his tears away, curling up tighter. He hated her! Hated her so much, because older sisters were supposed to protect their family, weren't they? How could she do something like that to him and Karin and Yuzu?

She hates him and it's his fault, because then she wouldn't sound so broken.

It wasn't fair. Why did she suddenly become so stuck-up and rude and mean? She kept brushing him off whenever he tried to talk to her! She was his sister! Family was supposed to care for each other, right? She doesn't really hate him, right? She was just… taking a break! She had to be! Nori couldn't just start hating him like that, right? They were siblings! They knew everything about each other!

Did they?

Didn't she blame him for killing their mother?

(She couldn't... Right?)

Karin didn't know who her sister was anymore. She looked, she stared, and she saw a stranger. Karin hated that. She knew Nori was weird, because she had always been like that, but this was different. It was like she was avoiding them, working around them, ignoring them, looking down, and it hurt. Because sisters were supposed to care for eachother.

She didn't care for them, but that didn't stop Karin from caring for her. As much as it hurt, she did. She would never keep away from her sister, crying out so angrily, painfully.

So she kept away. She kept away, because that empty space didn't show her anything new or scary, not like Nori did. That empty space never said it didn't care. In the meantime, she helped Yuzu, because she was cheerful and happy and kind, because she didn't want her twin to change because of someone like Nori.

Change because someone betrayed them. But hadn't they all, already? They were already changing.

Yuzu was scared. Scared of her own family, though she loathed to admit. She still tried to talk to her, even if Karin did try to discourage her from time to time. She tried to open conversation, make them laugh, stop them from pushing her away, even if she was terrified.

Nori will come around sometime, don't worry! She said, brushing tears away.

And she tried it over.

And over.

And over.

Nori will come around, don't worry.

Don't worry?

She worried.

(I fear and I worry, because I don't want to lose someone else, not again.)

Somewhere, far away, crossing worlds, a tall, seemingly kindly man tilted his head, watching the screen.

"How... interesting."

Much closer, a black cat watched, yellow eyes gleaming.

Fifteen years adding some. Fifteen years before breaking. Coincidently, that's when she died. Also, two angry breakdowns in the span of a few months. Kurosaki family now know there's something seriously wrong with their little Nori, but will they find out what? Please leave a review!

Sigh I need a beta. XD