A/N Hope at least a few people are keeping up with this :P And remember please review. I need your opinions! (And if you could share this with some people to maybe review too, just if you think they would enjoy it). So umm…the theme for this chapter maybe could be…

Just A Dream by Nelly

Enjoy :)

What was he going to do, scream about her departing? No… Instead he pounded his fist against the rough wall, then grimaced with the pain and stupidity, seeing his bloodied knuckles…the almost instant inflammation.

But it had been weeks since she had left, and nothing had changed. People acted like nothing happened…like no one was gone. Ichigo blocked himself off from everyone…they noticed. They noticed the look in his eyes when they mentioned her name, or something reminded him of her.

Rukia.

God, she was stubborn. And a tough woman. Closed in. Closed off. Except when she was with his younger siblings, or even Orihime. Or even sometimes…when she was looking at him. He sat back against the wall, memories cycling through his brain. Rukia looking at him….laughing, her endless bravery in the face of battle, the look on her face…sympathetic and caring. Loving.

To his own embarrassment, warm tears stung his eyes. He blinked, and wiped them away. There wasn't any point in sulking now. She was gone…and she wasn't going to come back. At least not anytime soon…

He wished she were here, at least somewhere in the room with him, if she wasn't next to him. Then at least so he could hear her breathing.

It would be hard to sleep without her again, tonight.

He walked through the never-ending hallways, not sure where he was going or why….just that it was urgent. He turned to the left not too much time later and arrived in a room. Nothing in it, like an empty warehouse. Except no boxes. No windows. No lights. Just one big empty room.

"Ichigo," he whipped his head around, face a cold mask. The voice echoed, like it wasn't real…and wasn't in the room with him.

"What do you want? Who the hell are you?" Questions fired from him, an automatic reflex. He wanted to know who he was facing before he battled. Old habit.

Yet the voice was eerily familiar…then he placed it. Was it…could it be?

No, he shook his head. She left, and she wasn't coming back.

His throat felt tight…and he was afraid to speak. So he wouldn't break.

Sometimes…he thought. She is so much stronger than I could ever be…

A dark shadow manifested itself in the corner. Forming a shape. A figure. It was short, with short hair too. Well, at least coming down to its shoulders, a little bit below. And it finally formed. It was a familiar form, too.

"Rukia…" His voice didn't crack, to his relief.

She acknowledged that with a simple nod. "Ichigo, it's too early to wish for things. To happen. Sometimes…you have to let go…" And as if she was made of sand, she blew away, and his last vision of her was of her sad eyes…

His eyes snapped open, his body shaking. But, the thought already crossed his mind.

It wasn't real.

It was only just a dream. A lost one. The only thing that his subconscious would give him was more pain than he needed. He didn't need fantasies about whether she was coming back. She wasn't.

His arm hurt…really bad. Since the Fourth had let him out fairly early, without him being fully healed, he hadn't let his sword arm recover. He had been using it quite roughly the past couple of weeks. There wasn't anything to do anymore, so a pointless pastime had to suffice sometimes.

He gritted his teeth against the pain…occasionally he couldn't even move his arm now. And when he tried…

A cry of pain escaped his lips and he quickly clamped his mouth shut. No doubt someone heard that…great.

But at the moment he reveled in the pain…at least something else to think about other than his hopeless wishes.

He lay there for a few minutes, completely still. Breathing deeply and slowly. Quietly.

The doors opened and a tall figure walked in.

"Renji…" Ichigo sneered as the red-head strolled in further.

He didn't say a word, just pulled up a chair and sat next to Ichigo's bed. The orange-haired shinigami sat up, refraining habitually from putting too much weight on his right arm.

"What do you want?" He said flatly, not looking the lieutenant in the face. Just staring straight ahead. "I thought I told you to stay away from me."

Renji simply looked at him, scanning his face. "Only the whole hallway could hear you." The lieutenant's eyes drifted over to Ichigo's arm. "You know you can't win, Ichigo. Your body will keel over sometime soon. You can't go on like this forever." His eyes continued scanning Ichigo, the dark circles under his eyes, his loss of weight. "You aren't strong enough."

"Strong enough to do this," Ichigo countered, using his right arm and slamming his fist into Renji's face. Ichigo winced and sucked in air through his teeth, the pain was horrible.

Renji's nose was bleeding, but that was all he could do. It's the action that counts. Renji shook his head. "Ichigo, people are only trying to help you," he got up and put the chair back. "Don't do something you'll regret."

There was only one last thing that Ichigo wanted to do before he changed his plan of action. Ever since he came to Soul Society, he had been wanting to see the Central 46. It was still empty, there still wasn't a new council. It seemed immature, but for some reason he felt that he should go there. He shrugged and got out of bed and quickly changed into his shihakusho, and quietly ran out the door. He had heard there were issues in the Chamber. Still…after Aizen. But…he didn't just want to go to the Central. He…oh crap. He was sent on a small task there from his temporary squad. He was sent to check out the chambers and report any flaws and dangers found in the area.

Ichigo blinked. He hadn't realized where he was. While he was thinking he hadn't realized how far he'd come. He was in the Central Chamber, like the court room. Things were decided here. He looked around, taking slow and cautious steps. Another habit. The ceiling was high…really high. There were rows of seats to seat the members of the 46, a large and steep flight of stairs leading to each and every row. It was so surreal, he suppressed a small laugh. If this was only one room…well, it didn't matter anyways. He wasn't here for a tour.

Room after room he passed and nothing seemed wrong with the place so why was he sent here?

He arrived in the bottom chamber, the lowest underground. The air was moist and it was dark and damp. The cold, hard floor had small water puddles on it. What the hell? As far as he was concerned, no one came down here, so why the hell was there water? His head spun with questions, one of them being Why does the ceiling have cracks in it, and why the hell does the floor have water on it? The two seemed to be connected, whether it was a good thing or not. He sat against the damp walls, sitting there for a few minutes. What does it all mean?

It all came to him then…

This wasn't just a dream.