Neither Bleach nor its characters belong to me.

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"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." -J.R.R. Tolkien

"Karin," he whispered softly.

She smiled as his icy-hot breath caressed her ear. She hadn't sensed him near, but he now stood behind her and wrapped strong, steady arms around her waist. She had been unfocused, staring out at everything, nothing that lay before her. It was as if nothing else mattered, only the present, only the now. She smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he asked.

"Hm, not today," she teased breathlessly.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each of her fingers. "Shame on me."

She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, twirled her fingers into his silver-white hair. His face was emotionless, but his turquoise eyes smiled down at her.

How she loved this man.

A peace washed over her body and her soul and her heart. This is right.

As he brought his head down to claim her lips with his own, he disappeared, the world around them disappeared, and she found herself, alone, in a storm of cold sleet and snow and darkness.

"Ka-rin," a distant female voice sang. "Ka-rin."

Karin stood, trying to shield her face from the bitterness. "I'm here! Where are you?"

"Are you ready?" she asked. "Are you ready to learn the truth?"

"I am! Please! I-"

"Soon..."

There was a knock on her door.

"Karin?"

It was Yuzu's voice.

Karin sat up as the light of the setting sun assaulted her eyes. She had been asleep. "Damn..." she whined, frustrated. Without giving herself time to dwell--or, more accurately, to obsess and analyze with the precision of an overzealous psychology major--on what had taken place in her dream world, she sat up and said, "Yeah?"

The door opened and Yuzu entered, carrying a large cardboard box. Karin brought her knees to her chest and made room for her sister to sit beside her on the bed. "How's Rukia and Ichigo and Eiji doing?" she asked.

Yuzu smiled. "They are well. Rukia's tired, but Ichigo's enamored. He's totally wrapped around that little boy's finger. They were sorry you're not feeling well."

Karin nodded. It was hard to believe her idiot of an older brother was a father, a dad, but Ichigo took to fatherhood as well as, if not better than he'd taken to the sword, like it was this innate instinct that had completely taken over. It was pretty awesome to witness, the transformation of her brother. It might take some time getting used to, though.

Not that she had time. She'd be leaving soon.

She shrugged. "I'll stop by later. I'm feeling better. But I'm sure they all need rest, too."

Karin looked at her sister as her sister's eyes travelled to the box sitting in front of her and an unfamiliar longing appeared in her warm brown eyes. "What is this, Yuzu?" she asked, peering down at her.

Her sister swallowed and hesitated, as if considering her answer carefully. "This," she started, her hands resting on the lid of the box, "is yours."

Karin pursed her lips and waited for her to continue.

Yuzu took a deep breath. "I-I know you're going...away for a while. I think you should have this."

"What is this?" Karin repeated. All Yuzu knew was that she had taken the "internship" in Kyoto...and that Hitsugaya had transfered there as well to help "keep an eye on his friend's sister." In other words: be her babysitter, which wasn't a complete lie.

Yuzu opened the box to reveal papers--slightly yellowed--and picture frames and tiny mementos. She grabbed a stack of photos and started sifting through them mindlessly. She then handed them to Karin, who took them tentatively, apprehensive to what they might be of. She'd never seen them or this box before.

"These are all yours from...before your accident. I," she paused. Karin took her hand and squeezed. For some reason, this was hard for her; her twin was struggling with the contents lying within the box, whatever they were. Yuzu looked up at her, certainty now present and clear in her eyes, and continued with more confidence, "I thought it best to collect these after your accident, to put them away until--well...I was afraid you would get frustrated, unable to remember. But now...I think you need these. Especially if you're leaving with him."

Karin shot her a look. "I'm just going to Kyoto, a few hours away."

Yuzu smiled slightly. "I'm not as clueless as I seem, Karin. I may not be one hundred percent sure about everything that goes on, but I'm not stupid."

Karin squirmed.

"I remember him," she said, her blond brows raised expectantly, "You spent...a great deal of time with him a few years ago. I know he's not just Ichigo's friend from work. He was your friend, too. You were really happy then."

Karin looked at the photos in her hand. One caught her eye and she froze, swallowing the growing lump in her throat with difficulty.

Yuzu clicked her tongue and stood. "I'll, uh, leave you to it." And she left her alone with the box.

Karin watched her sister leave, but the minute the door closed her eyes flew to the photo in her hands--the series of photos, actually. On the top of the pile, it was a progression of photo booth pictures. She looked about fifteen; her hair was short, maybe reaching her shoulders, and she was wearing a backwards baseball cap and a soccer jersey.

What caught her eye, however, was the companion in the strip of photos with her: Toshiro--well, a younger-looking version of Toshiro. Six pictures of them, together, and she looked...happy. Her expression changed in every picture--she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out in one, scrunched her face and held out a peace sign in another--but she looked so happy. His expression, however, did not change in the slightest; it remained icily solid and yet, somehow, not completely distant, and his arms were folded across his chest brusquely. Until the last picture.

In the second to last picture, she was grinning at him coyly, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, perceptible even in the film. In the last picture, his expression had changed to one of momentary shock as she pressed her lips to his cheek. She had obviously caught him by surprise; his eyes--his beautiful, turquoise eyes--were wide, his brows arched high, and his arms were captured mid-unfolding. He hadn't seen her spontaneous kiss coming.

Her eyes were closed, as if she were in a state of complete, unadulterated bliss. She was happy.

An unidentified emotion began flowing through Karin as she looked at the picture, willing herself to remember. She began to tremble, and she dropped the stack of pictures. But the sight that assailed her as the photographs littered her bedroom floor made her heart beat faster. There weren't many; a couple dozen at the most. Most of them, if not all of them, were of Toshiro. Or of her and Toshiro. At the park. At the mall. By the river. Most of them looked candid, like he had been in the middle of saying something to her--or admonishing her, more likely, by the look of his numerous piqued-looking expressions--and she had just snapped three or four consecutive pictures. He wasn't smiling in any of them, though.

Not one.

She stood, not fully understanding why she was getting so worked up. She was struggling to breathe and she felt as though her heart was going to pound straight out of her chest.

What's wrong with me? I'm not this weak!

She crossed the room and sat on the floor, her back to the closet, just staring at the pictures now blanketing the floor. She grabbed the box and started digging through it, looking for other signs. There was a couple of faded movie ticket stubs, a pair of purple shoelaces tied in a fancy knot, a green strip of cloth with what looked to be a bloodstain, an odd-looking round gold clip.

She kicked the box away, growing seriously peeved. This is all junk! What was this to me? Why did I save-have this stuff in the first place? Why can't I remember? She was on the verge of hot, angry tears, but she did not want to cry. She was sick of her emotions getting the best of her. She hated crying!

"Karin, stop!"

Karin looked up, expecting to see her sister.

But the room was empty save herself. She looked around for the source of the command.

"Get up, Karin. Pick up your sword."

Okay, now she was really freaked out.

"You think you're ready? You want control?" the voice, now distinctively female, asked almost sardonically.

Karin was silent for a moment. How was she supposed to respond? Out loud? Did she need to speak at all?

"No," she answered, "you don't. It doesn't make a difference to me, though."

Karin swallowed before responding quietly, "Who are you?"

She could hear the woman's smile in her voice. It was that voice, the one from her meditation, the one from her dream. "You know who I am. We've even met before."

"When?" she asked quickly.

The voice laughed. "It's time, Karin. Pick up your sword. Earn your right to wield me."

At that, there was an intense pressure, beyond that of any headache she'd ever had, appeared in her head. She winced and gripped her temples.

"You must fight it, Karin! You have to will yourself-"

"It hurts," Karin barely whispered, struggling to keep her footing.

The woman sighed, and Karin felt as if she was being released from an invisible hold, and the pain disappeared. "You're not ready..." she said, her voice fading.

Karin stood and grabbed the table to steady herself when a wave of nausea ran over her. "Wait-"

An emptiness permeated the room and her soul, and, suddenly weak, she let herself fall to her knees. She was alone once more and seemingly more confused than ever.

From the street, Kurosaki Isshin could feel his daughter's reiatsu fluctuate irregularly. He sighed. For so long he'd done everything he could to protect his family.

Yet first Ichigo...now Karin...his painstakingly crafted facade was unraveling at the seams.

I'm sorry...Masaki...

"You'll hurt yourself if you think too hard," came an all too familiar voice.

Isshin smirked without looking to the approaching man.

Clack. Tap. Clack. Tap. Clack. Tap. The man's sandals would have announced his presence if he hadn't spoken up first.

"Thanks for the advice, old man."

"'Old man'? Who are you calling an old man, grandpa?"

Isshin laughed gruffly. "Touche."

Urahara Kisuke stopped next to him and mirrored his stance, stared at Karin's window, too. After a moment he said, "She'll be fine, you know."

Isshin nodded. "I know." He mindlessly leaned against the car behind him and folded his arms across his chest.

"You don't look very convinced," Urahara observed, swinging his cane in a deliberate circle.

"Hm," was the only response offered.

"You know, it might actually help if she knew the truth about-"

"Me?" he interrupted. He shook his head and rubbed his beard. "No, not yet."

Urahara set his jaw, nodded once, and shrugged. He knew there was no point in arguing. "All right. Father knows best, I guess."

Isshin smirked again and looked at the ground, overcome with an intense need for a smoke.

"Is she ready to go? I told Hitsugaya to be ready in the next day or two."

"She'll be ready. Best to rip the bandage off quickly, I think."

"Her identity has been secured, but a few higher up know who she is. They have assured me your saga will remain secret. She will be just another shinigami academy student; no special treatment, no acknowledgement of the powers that were her birthright..."

"Except for her 10th Division accommodations, that is."

He nodded. "Except for that, yes, but even that has been kept under wraps. We can't have every student claiming entitlements and desiring to live it up in the cushy division barracks, now can we? It just wouldn't be fair."

"That's how she'd want it."

Urahara said, adjusting his hat absentmindedly, "Well, my friend, I'll leave you to your contemplations. Remember, don't think too hard."

Isshin nodded as he watched Urahara head back down the street, but the man in green stopped and said over his shoulder, "You know, Shakespeare's fools are often his wisest characters. Even your son will pick up on your act eventually. I'm surprised he hasn't already, what with all the reading he does."

"Point taken," Isshin acknowledged. He sighed and looked up to his house, to his family's home. So much had changed; so much had slipped through his fingers over time. They weren't all bad changes; some were natural, just another part of life and "growing up." He'd lost his wife, gained a daughter, now he had a grandson. Oh, and there was that whole "becoming human" thing; couldn't forget that. He tried not to let the thought that he was about to lose Karin, too, encroach on him; he wasn't losing her, he was letting her find herself. It wouldn't be forever. It won't be forever. "In time," he said. It was a promise.

Eiji: pronounced AY-jee...just clarifying

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