Final chapter! How will it end?!—Will it even end?? We'll find out! And do you (awesome) people know why we'll find out if it even ends?

CUZ IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!!!! Duh-duhduhduh, duhduhduhduh, duhduhduh, duhduhduhduhduhduh...the FINAL COUNTDOWN!!!!!! *goes "Europe" on all of the readers*

o_O" Ok...that was freaky. My...bad? *disappointed in self* So this is the last chapter. I think. We'll find out, right?


"It's okay, Ishida-kun. I-I'll do it for you." Her voice rustled softly.

She got up and went to the bathroom where his clothes were hanging, still dripping with wet. Getting the bag, she rolled up his damp apparel—his school uniform: white shirt, gray pants, even his striped tie. Absentmindedly, she started humming as she wrapped his clothes into a bundle and placed them into the plastic bag.

"Beauty queen of only eighteen...she had some trouble with herself..."


Uryu just stood there and waited. The loathe for his cowardice was indescribable. He couldn't explain how horrible he felt—anger, hate, guilt, regret. Everything. Love.

Orihime...

His thoughts kept circling around Orihime, and he couldn't get her out of his head. Her voice. Her tears. Her smile. Her laugh. Her screams. Her body. Her hair. Her face. It was for the overall best that he should leave.

Damn...Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn!

Uryu wanted to tell her that he loved her—he wanted to pour out his heart—to kiss her, to hold her and to keep her safe. Damn that shinigami bastard Kurosaki to the Soul Society for hurting her like that! His breathing was becoming deep and his hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists.

No. It was his fault he was feeling like this. He needed to stop storing his emotions, and to release them all, even if he ended up in rejection. Uryu sighed. He knew that he was going to feel horrible for it, especially since Orihime had just gotten her own heart brake.

But, he didn't know if he could tell her that he loved her. He didn't know if it was in him to openly tell her of his affections. This was why he hated himself. He was a coward. Wishy-washy when it came to things like love. Ugh, why did he have to—

Uryu's ears pricked to the sound of footsteps.

"I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door...I've had you so many times but somehow I want more..."

His heart jumped. Uryu turned his head around and saw her. His love, his death. She was tying the plastic bag filled with his clothes into a knot.

And she was singing that song. That song...

She will be loved.

She walked up to him and slowly bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet. The gingery auburn haired beauty handed him his clothes bashfully, yet desolate. "There you go, Ishida-kun."

His hand brushed Orihime's again and he pulled away after taking the white bag. Why couldn't love be easy? Why did it have to hurt so much, when it was suppose to make you feel so good? There were so many things he knew, but yet so many things he didn't understand. He just had to accept it.

"Thank you again, Inoue-san."

His heart was set.

As she walked to the door she shook her head and he silently followed. Orihime still felt horrible about bringing up his past love. Her curiosity messed up the moment they had, and she was deeply regretful. She couldn't explain how bad she felt. Orihime wished she hadn't made him feel bad. And it was just like her to kill the moment.

No words were exchanged until they finally reached her door.

She wondered if he hated her.

They both quietly stood there in the doorway, unmoving, and not speaking. Finally, she spoke up.

"Ishida-kun, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I really hope you can forgive me, but...it's okay if you don't. I understand. I wouldn't want to forgive me either. I opened up wounds that you were trying to heal, and I know firsthand how hard that is." She laughed lightly, but without humor. "I wish my powers could heal you."

Orihime didn't know how hard that hit him. It knocked the wind out of him, like if Chad had punched him square in the chest, but, he kept his composure. He had to.

"It's okay if you hate me. I deserve it."

No you don't.

Finally, she opened the door. A spine chilling breeze flew in, along with rain, and she quickly shut the door. She didn't want him to go back outside in that weather. Yet, her possibilities were limited—she was just in his way, making him feel worse with every second.

"Ishida-kun, I—"

"Inoue-san. I could never hate you. You don't deserve any feelings of hate whatsoever, mine or anyone else's. Don't ever say that you deserve it. No one can hate you, because you're not the kind of person to be hated."

Uryu looked straight into her gray eyes.

"I can't forgive you, because there's nothing to be forgiven. I should be thanking you, because you've helped me see things clearly." He chucked sadly. "Inoue-san, you didn't do anything wrong."

She didn't understand. He didn't hate her? And why was he thanking her? All she did was make him feel bad! Did he have to get all out of character at a time like this?

He grabbed her hand on the door knob, and her heart hastened its beats. Her face flushed at their close contact.

Tenderly, he stroked her fingers—they were warm compared to his cold ones. Soft compared to his rigid ones. She was innocent of blood and death, where he was inculpative of it.

They were complete opposites, but he still loved her—Uryu would always love Orihime.

"Love's not always rainbows and butterflies, it's compromise that moves us along. My heart is full and my door's always open," his eyes were glassy behind the glasses and he showed a look of pure love. "You come anytime that you want."

Letting go of her hand and opening the door, he turned to face her one last time. The windy rain crashed against his back, and he smiled despite the cold.

"And you will be loved, Inoue-san."


Orihime stood there. Motionless. Speechless.

Into the rain, into the storm, into the desolate gray street, he left her. He finally turned his back on her. With only those words:

"And you will be loved, Inoue-san."

His face. The smile he wore over his despondency. His voice. His love.

Uryu loved her. He loved her—stupid, ditzy Orihime Inoue. She was the girl he loved, the girl that was always right in front of him, making him love her more and more. She was the girl who ignored him, who tempted him, who loved Ichigo—she was the girl who didn't even notice his presence. She was the stupid girl who stepped on his emotions without even acknowledging his love.

Helping her, talking to her, saving her from harm—it was all because of love.

She was the one who was slowly killing him from the inside. Guilt hit her tenfold, and she was too shocked to cry. She was too shocked to move—too shocked to finally see things clearly for the first time.

The way he'd look at her, the way he'd smile at her when she said something totally irrelevant. Uryu cared for her; had gotten hurt for her—all because of her. And she was just too stupid to observe the people around her. The love that Ichigo had for Rukia, and the love that Uryu had for her.

She looked away from the door, and noticed his leather jacket still on her coat hanger. Small droplets of water still clung to the black material, and one lone drop fell from the collar and onto the floor. It hit, and splattered to the ground.

That's when she broke down. Her own tears fell from her gray eyes, falling down and soaking into her shirt. Quickly grabbing at the jacket, she clutched it close to her chest and opened the door. Running out, she looked into the street to look for Uryu. Rain splashed in her face, the freezing cold instantly causing her to shiver, but she didn't feel it. Orihime forced herself not to. She felt nothing except hurt and realization. She looked from one end of the street to the other—he was already gone.

"Ishida-kun!"

Glancing once, she ran towards the direction they both had came from—that bench that she had cried on. Orihime didn't know why she headed that way. Intuition? Yeah, what good was her intuition? She wasn't even observant to the people around her.

She was the most terrible person in the world.

She sprinted that way, but quickly tripped as she ran through a puddle, and her body flew to the ground. She half expected Uryu to catch her—to save her—before she hit the concrete, but reality hit as she felt the cold stone crash against her body. She looked up, the jacket still tightly in her arms, and stared at the dark sky.

He loved her.

Hot tears dripped down her wet face and she closed her eyes.

Ishida-kun.

And she loved him back.


Orihime stared blankly at the wall, hardly moving as she sat mutely in her desk. She was deaf of hearing, except for the voices echoing her name. But, even then she'd still ignore the voices—the voices of her friends: Tatsuki, Chizuru, Chad, Ichigo—her friends...

...Uryu.

She couldn't get Uryu out of her mind. Her gray eyes lethargically glanced over to his desk. She had expected to see his stern figure sitting up straight and taking notes without a sound. His glasses reflecting off a bright glare as he stared at the chalkboard. With Uryu's black hair covering the profile of his stoic face, he'd look down and write a note about the lessons being taught. No part of his body would move, only with the exception of his strong forearm and hand writing in perfect handwriting. Strong, careful hands. But he wasn't there.

His desk was cold and empty. Just like her heart.

He wasn't even at school that day. She hadn't seen him at all since that night. That single night that he was over at her house. That night, two days ago.

Orihime gazed back at the wall. Her eyes were glazed, cloudy—they stared at the white, mundane texture of the classroom's wall, but her mind was only thinking of Uryu Ishida.

She was sitting in her usual seat by the window. Slowly, she glanced out of the glass, and into the sky, then back at the wall. It was amazing. Since that day with him, the weather had gotten worse and worse, darker with more rain. The wind seemed to slice through her skin, yet it didn't leave blood—just the iced feeling of the frosted winter breeze. Rain seemed to pour in sharp freezing sheets, one by one. But she didn't feel it.

Orihime was numb to it—her heart was numb to it.

The freezing cold didn't hurt her—it didn't crush her, rip her to shreds and make her bleed. It didn't kill her.

But, the look of his dark navy blue eyes. That one expression alone crushed her. Killed her. Shot her in the heart. His look of love—pure and undeniable love; it was a love that she didn't deserve. A love that surpassed what she had felt for Ichigo. Those feelings for him were totally inept in comparison to Uryu's love. That torturous love that wrenched one's heart—heated it and then satisfied it. But, then the part of his love which hurt her was the indescribable, indefinable sadness he must of felt all of those times being with her, alone or in their large string of friends. The understanding of his love, and all of the stupid times of her denial in which Orihime hated herself for, killed her.

She was the most horrible person of all for that. It was all so clear now. From the times he had saved her, or even talked to her. There was even the same even warmness in his voice when talking to her—when he was hurt or otherwise. Now that Ichigo wasn't clouding her feelings with the infatuation and puppy love she felt for him, the love he had for her was obvious.

Ichigo was like her brother. A tough, older brother to look out for her, much like her real brother.

But Uryu—he was more. More than a brother. More than a protector. He was so much more, and she didn't even acknowledge it.

Orihime gulped, and felt tears start to dam up in her eyes. She had cried after Uryu had left her house. She had cried everyday after school at home. Cried for him. Cried for his love. But, most importantly, she cried for herself and how stupid and ignorant she had been. Guilt was breaking her heart to more pieces than before. And it was her fault.


Ichigo stared at Orihime. Her eyes were glassy, almost to the brink of tears. He was concerned. There was something wrong with her.

She had been acting different for the past several days.

She's been like totally out of character...what the hell's the matter? Damn...

He's never seen her in that state—like her life was in utter chaos, and nothing was going right. Even when she was sad, she still kept the same bubbly personality, that same smile. In a weird sense, she was like a professional poker player, always keeping the same face, even when she was losing. He knew that was a really crappy comparison about her expressions, but what the hell.

Yet, not now. Her "happy" walls were breached, and she was being attacked by some unseen and unknown force. To him, it was like she needed the "life version" of an Icy Hot pack.

Actually, to tell the truth, everything was all screwed up. He scowled and turned his head over to Uryu's desk. He knew that the apocalypse was going to come when Uryu missed a day of school. Now, the whole human population was screwed—he had missed two days. His perfect attendance was shot through the roof.

Poor bastard, he's probably gonna cry when he finds out.

Ichigo looked back to Orihime. There was also something else wrong—like in her aura—that was emotionally odd and bringing her down. He wondered what was up.

The bell rang, and everyone started to quickly crowd out of the door. School was finally over.

Orihime didn't get up, but Ichigo did, and started to walk towards her as she started to pack her bags.

Well, it was too bad that Ichigo didn't know that both Orihime's current condition and Uryu's disappearance were connected. Then maybe that might have cleared things up.

It was also too bad that Ichigo was such a dumb-ass.


"Hey! Inoue-san?" Ichigo scratched the back of his head. He sucked at stuff like this. "Uhm, you haven't seemed like your usual self for the last few days, and I'm kinda...uh, y'know, wonderin' what's wrong."

She looked up at him blankly—unenthusiastically. "Really?" Her voice was flat. Now he was really getting worried. And it didn't help that talking all mushy and sentimental was not his thing.

Ichigo spotted the black material in her lap.

"Is that your jacket? Leather is a good idea since it's so freakin' freezing out..."

No, conversations to break the ice (haha no pun intended) were not his thing either.

Orihime's eyes questioned him, but then she knowingly looked down. Oh yeah. The jacket—his jacket. She didn't know why she still had it. She didn't know why she was still bringing it to school since she knew that he wasn't going to be there to receive it back. She didn't know why she still carried with her, why she still held it in her arms.

Orihime felt the texture of the smooth leather under her fingertips. She caressed the small ravines of black wrinkles.

She knew why. Denial wasn't going to get the best of her. She wasn't going to mess things up this time. Not again.

"Inoue-san?"

She looked up at him, eyes still glassy with a small, sad smile.

"Kurosaki-kun, don't worry..."

She wasn't going to hurt Uryu anymore.

"I'm not falling apart."


Uryu lay motionless on his couch, gazing at the ceiling without expression. He was clothed in his Quincy outfit—the traditional white garment with blue stripes resembling the Quincy cross. The only thing distinguished on his apparel was the dark red slash on his arm, and various rips on the white material. Uryu didn't feel the sting of hurt though—the searing pain from the gash on his left forearm. Uryu would have cleaned himself and sewn up the cut, but he just went over to his midnight blue velvet couch to lay down.

The couch the color of his eyes, the couch the color of his emotions. Dark. Blue. Depressed—

Apathetic.

He sighed. His muscles ached, and he was soaked with rain, but he didn't move. Just breathed, blinked, and reflected. After that confrontation with Orihime at her house, he just started to stop caring. He even didn't go to school—school didn't matter. He needed to free the pent up stress that started to eat up at him. So he went on a nonstop hollow pursuit, shooting down every one he had found. He even went so far as the outskirts of Karakura—the woods and almost into the next town.

The hollow that had given him the gash on his arm was a particularly nasty one—it shot out poison from spores on its back, had sharp claws, nails, teeth, and a very disgusting tongue that shot out a violet and green phlegm. The body of the hollow morphed into different shapes, and was hard to shoot down as it moved. It was extremely fast too, which did take its toll on the exasperated Uryu. It had lunged at him and he had just barely dodged out of the way. He did eventually take it down, but got the cut due to the result of fighting it.

"Damn. I'm getting slow."

He didn't know why he was intentionally trying to hurt himself. Maybe, just to feel something other than the emotional pain—a physical pain. He laughed sarcastically to himself.

Love makes people do stupid things.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

But I'm just being idiotic.

Yet, maybe not. He finally let all of his feelings out, and the heavy load was finally off of his shoulders. Though a great weight had been lifted after telling Orihime he loved her, he still felt the shadow of the weight. But still, maybe this was how it felt, the final release and confession of love—love, that damned emotion! He could live so much without it, but then couldn't live without it.

Tch. Irony. Story of my life.

And I was all because of her—Orihime Inoue. It was all because he couldn't stop falling in love with her. He couldn't help but save her when she was down. If only he could have killed that chivalrous personality of his at those times of need. But then, not being able to save her from her pain, her anguish, would have killed him instead. Besides, he couldn't change his personality.

Loneliness. My life story's spin-off.

He smiled slightly. His humor has always sucked.


So…this isn't the last chapter. Oh my freaking goodness. All I wanted at first was this story to be a one-shot! Now it's like a freaking four chapter fic! Ugh. Dude, I noticed that I posted this story like about a year ago. Dang. I suck at updating. You people can hate me. It's okay.

Anyways, please review! Would be greatly appreciated! Thanks again for reading this work of tedious fiction, you guys are awesome. Please point out grammatical issues and typos, if possible. Tell me if in-between paragraphs if it says "(Line thing)". I use that to remember where I want the paragraph breaks. This wasn't the best chapter in the world (it sucked). I decided to finish the chapter at this point, because if I didn't, it would be, like, seventeen pages. That's a lot of words in one sitting. *dies*

Btw I drew like a Christmas card thingy. I can send like an e-card to you guys if you want me too. Just add it in the review, or you can email me saying that you want it. I willfully give my email to you on my profile page, so yeah. It's just Ishida in a Santa hat. It's kinda cute :3