Short chapter – but a chapter nonetheless! Just to show you I haven't abandoned this story. I really couldn't – it's like a thorn in my side, really.

I'm really sad no one answered the art trade…. Looks like trades and contests don't do too well with me – my C2 community on Renji/Tatsuki is holding a fiction contest, see my story "Something about you" for details if you're interested. Around Chapter 5, I think…

Anyway…here's the new chapter. I hope you'll like it.

CHAPTER 3: LOST

The first thing I become aware of is a wet cloth on my forehead. After a second, the sound of a soft voice humming a tune I remember from my childhood drifts in through the darkness.

My head is a mess – it feels like a scrambled egg. Still, I must open my eyes. I have to – but don't ask why.

I manage to crack an eye open, half expecting the cruel stab of pain that will come with the sunlight.

The room is blurry – and mercifully dim. The curtains have been drawn, just enough light to see but not too much to hurt.

The fog is slowly clearing away from my mind. My whole body feels as if it was turned into lead.

"Kenshin-sama?"

Shinju's face – I must be home, then.

Home… Aunt Rukia…dad…

I sit up, gripping my sheets to ignore the dizziness washing over me. My head's spinning, Shinju cries something, but I don't listen, I don't care. I feel like throwing up. Or smashing something. Or burning this whole house to ashes.

I gently pull her hand away from my shoulder and get up from the futon. "What o'clock is it, Shinju?" I ask as a lump silently forms in my throat. "How long have I slept?"

Shinju lowers her gaze, fingers twisting the cloth of her kimono. "It is midday, Kenshin-sama."

That cold wave again, sweeping over me. But this time, I don't wait for it to grip me completely. I can't wait.

I rush to the door as fast as my numb legs will carry me, but I find it locked. Shinju's voice drifts to my ears. "Please, don't strain yourself, Kenshin-sama. It's useless." there's no mockery, no satisfaction in her voice – it's only a sad, downhearted shade. "Even if you get past that door, the Sixth Division's 10th and 11th seat are guarding the house. Against the Drifters, he said."

My hand drops from the handle. "Ah."

Shinju watches me carefully as I slowly turn away and walk across the room. She looks worried – she was probably expecting a more powerful reaction from me. She can't feel my reiatsu flaring around me like a stormy wind. She can't hear the loud thumping of my heart.

My fists clench and unclench nervously, furiously. I throw the curtains open, looking outside. Shinju gasps. So, there was another reason why they were closed.

The light shines all over Soul Society, Seireitei and Rukongai alike.

Even from this distance, it's unbearable.

I force myself not to look away. My fist clench tightly, nails digging in my flesh.

I don't care. All I see is that light. A light as strong as the sun – a sun of death.

It hurts. It hurts my eyes, it hurts my head – it hurts my heart.

I want to scream.

My mouth tastes bitterly.

I want to grab the world and break it in two.

My body shakes.

I want to throw up.

I want to burn down this house and the whole Seiritei

I want to see the man that calls himself my father and spit in his face.

I want to curse and cuss, but no word can convey how I feel right now.

Anger, fury, helplessness, frustration, uselessness… all boiling inside of me, crashing like waves. Burning me down to the core.

I want to run out of here, run to that light as fast as I can.

I should at least try that.

Instead, I stand here and watch.

I watch through the tears that cloud my vision and fall on my kimono.

Forgive me, Aunt Rukia.

I should have run faster. I should have tried harder.

I'm sorry, aunt Rukia. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

Then, even through my tears and despair, I feel it.

Like a ripple in the water.

It's coming.

And the light stops its descent.

Was it too late? Is aunt Rukia…? Is she safe?

I stand and watch the light, feeling the movement of various reiatsu in the air, like small waves in a lake.

I allow myself to hope again. I want to hang on this fragile thread, if only for a little while.

Whatever the result of this day might be, I know without a doubt that something inside of me was lost to that light – burned to ashes, annihilated.

Even if I can't do anything to change the outcome of this battle – or whatever it is – I can still hope that today I won't lose anything else.

So I stand here – and watch. And hope desperately.

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