Um, um, I wasn't sure whether to go with footnotes, or just putting the notes directly in. Please tell me which you prefer.
I - White is the colour of innocence, compassion, and wisdom.
She may have lived 10 or 20 times longer than him, but her naivety never ceased to astound him. In the beginning, he felt as if he had gained a third sister, but the way she nagged made him feel like she was his mother and her occasional words of wisdom continued to throw him off balance.
Ichigo learned to appreciate the fact that within that small body, lay the heart of a child, a mother and a crone. Dammit! This still feels a little grammatically incorrect to me, but I can't figure it out. I'm kind of OC, though, so I honestly think no-one will ever notice but me… even if the grammar isn't right, it still flows really well… you could probably still go with "laid"
II - White is the colour of pain.
His heart jumped a little at the sight of her from his position in the air. The figures on the bridge grew bigger as he neared towards them and he could see Hanatarou and Ganjuu sprawled on the ground, her (Nyan, nyan…. It's a little confusing! There wasn't any reference to Rukia in this paragraph, so it's hard to tell who's brother it is… at first I thought you'd made a pronoun error. Umm…. Maybe just say "Rukia's" instead) cold and heartless brother standing victorious over them. But for that moment, all the other people did not matter; he saw only her and she was standing right there, looking up at him, with those large purple eyes shining with unshed tears.
He only managed to get a good look at her when he landed right in front of her. He briefly wondered (past tense! Mew, tenses are a pain, huh?) if she had shrunk. Rukia had always been petite, since she could wear Yuzu's clothes, but the girl in front of him seemed even smaller than the feisty shinigami who had slept comfortably in his closet.
Ichigo hated that/the (not sure, but both are good, so your call) pristine white garment she wore that day because it was too harsh on her complexion; it seemed to engulf her pint-size body; and she ought to be wearing sunny yellows or cheerful greens. It pained him to see how tiny, frail and lost she looked in that robe hanging loosely off her thin shoulders.
Most of all, it pained him because he knew that he was the reason she looked that way.
III - White is the colour of regret.
Neither wanted to leave the other, yet they know that it must be done. Her place was in Soul Society, and he belonged to the realm of the living.
Ichigo strode purposefully towards the blinding white light which would return him to his world. He did not look back because he knew if he did, he would never leave without her.
Sometimes, he regretted he did not look back that day.
IV - White is the colour of emptiness.
His room felt less alive without her. Kon was unbearable with his incessant complaints and whining about missing 'nee-san'. He felt irritated at the plushie, because he should be the first in line with whining rights.
It was her fault that she had barged her way into his life and into his heart without his permission. So it was doubly her fault for the empty feeling within him, which throbbed painfully each time he opened the closet to get his clothes, whenever he passed by the pet shop with white rabbits displayed in the front window or whenever he walked down the street where she had left him to save his life on that rainy night. (um, which street? This reference isn't a little ambigious)
He casually tried to ask Ukitake for news of her when he came to the mortal world to check on him. The white haired man smiled, and assured him that Rukia was steadily regaining her powers in Soul Society. She would still need a bit of work (she still needed to do a bit of work?) before she regained her full powers prior to the incident, but she would make it somehow.
Ichigo tells Ukitake to say 'Hi' to her for him. Ukitake smiles understandingly at him and assures him they would meet again some day.
(Hehe, maybe you should get me to change the story to this… 'present-past tense' while I'm at it. You write it well! But this sentence is in… present-past tense, while the rest of this story is in past tense. So have a past tense version, ok?
"Ichigo told Ukitake to say 'Hi' to her for him. Ukitake smiled understandingly at him and assured him they would meet again some day.")
The orange-haired shinigami believed the older man's words. He had to; how else would he be able to carry on living with that gaping hole in his chest?
V - White is the colour of Death.
It seemed fitting that they would have sent her to collect his soul on his death day, a completion of a circle. He waited there in the hospital room, struggling to draw (in) breath as he awaited his final hour.
He had lived to a ripe old age and his mortal body was not what it used to be, but his soul was still young and spry. His family and friends had left him long ago, one by one, and he was the one who had performed their Soul Burials. It was painful to be the one who had sent all his (own?) loved ones on their way.
Ichigo grinned toothlessly as the black butterfly floated into his hospital room before transforming into a shinigami.
"Hey."
"You look like shit." She was always one to call a spade a spade.
"Oh yeah? I bet I can kick your ass once I get out of this shitty body." He coughed.
She smiled at him. It was just like the old times.
"We'll see about that. Are you ready?"
"Yes." He had waited his whole life for this moment.
Rukia drew her blade and gently pressed the hilt on his wrinkled forehead. The seal burned hotly into his skin and his spirit poured out of his lifeless body in a blinding white rush as he was reborn…
…and they were whole again.
The rain had finally let off.
Epilogue
White is the colour of everything around them, as it is the amalgam of all the other colours in the spectrum: (it represents?) pain, sadness, happiness, hope, grief, rebirth… For that reason, white is the colour of their love.
Owari
ohmygaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd 3