DISCLAIMER FROM 2024

At the encouragement of my readers, some of whom have followed me for twenty years, I have decided to reupload my old fanfiction stories. I do this with some reservations. I wanted to revise them before posting them again, but the sheer amount of words involved means that that would take me years to accomplish, and it would be better for me to focus on writing new stories instead. Maybe someday I'll go back and make the edits, but for now, I'm reposting everything, warts and all. So expect characters to be out of character, expect nonsensical sections, and expect there to be many grammar, punctuation, and spelling mistakes.

In addition, please understand that the story you have in front of you was written by a very different person. I was a teenager who was raised on 90's media, who lived in an abusive household and in a white conservative town. I was steeped in problematic beliefs and had an equally troubling sense of humor. Anything I wrote before 2010 will reflect that.

However, my understanding of the world has grown since then. I'm an adult now, out of the closet and firmly politically left. I'm also much better at my craft these days. It makes me cringe to think about how my earlier writing must have hurt some of my readers.

That being said, these stories were also ones that people loved and missed. If they can still make someone's day brighter, that's worth something. Maybe they can even inspire others by showing them how much someone's writing can grow with time and practice. Plus, my younger self worked hard on these. Even the darkest ones comforted her during a difficult time in her life. So maybe I owe her something better than burying her words.

So, without further ado, welcome to my old fanfics! You're in for a messy and melodramatic experience. As always, I hope you enjoy the read.

ALMOST LOVER

Orihime had always known the truth.

She had always known that Kuchiki-san had meant far more to Ichigo than he let on, and him to her. There had always been a bond there, a partnership of mutual respect and friendship and trust. Rukia had been his teacher, and then he had become her savior, rescuing her from an execution whose true purpose was a farce to cover up the real goal: the possession of the powerful jewel in her soul that could dissolve the barrier between a Shinigami and a Hollow, creating an Arrancar, the most powerful and fearsome of monster.

She knew that Ichigo battled himself to prevent such a thing when other, less moral and ambitious people embraced the transformation. She knew that ultimately, it was Rukia that had broken him out of his fear and given him the strength to fight against becoming that abomination.

Rukia could cheer him up and always helped to give him the resolve he needed to pursue a goal, an energy and triumph. They knew each other so well…and valued one another on an unspoken level that neither acknowledged.

Orihime was certain that had things been different, had they forsaken their pride, something might have come of it. They might have found something akin to peace and maybe joy.

But now that would be impossible.

Because Rukia Kuchiki was now truly dead.

A year had passed since the journey to Hueco Mundo, and in the end, the losses in the Winter War had been extensive on both sides, Arrancar and Shinigami alike had fallen, and for the most part, the bloodshed had been that of the guardian Soul Reapers, and the humans who had attempted to aid them with the spectral gifts that their nearness had infused them with.

Against the odds, the Death Gods won, with much of the thanks going to the orange-haired boy who had given his all, nearly even his life, to defeat the enemy and save his friend, the girl who loved him. He could not let the Arrancar have her without a fight…for she did not belong with them. She belonged with Tatsuki, Ishida, Chad, and to all of the people who cared about her. She was too sweet, too king of heart to be sullied by those monstrosities.

So he fought with his friends and fought with all he had.

And then Rukia had fallen, her rietsu fading like the mist. He had felt her fade, and for a moment faltered…before charging forward, seeking to avenge the girl who had changed his world, the raven-haired goddess of the snow who had given him the power to defend those he cared for, and then some.

He turned the pain to fury and struck out…and slashed and slashed until the evil that threatened them all was no more.

It was snowing again, and he stood in the site where he had fought his mother's murderer, the Grand Fisher Hollow. Orihime stood in the edge of the clearing, watching him as his body shook from cold and likely pain. The loss of the petite Soul Reaper had changed him, just as it had with Renji, Byakuya, and so many others who had survived the war. Ichigo now spoke to other, merely fought the Hollows that came in his district. He would have taken it all on by himself, but others had insisted on helping him. He had allowed it, but no more. For a time he stood there, obviously reminiscing, and then moved on, his breath coming in puffs of mist, the white precipitation blanketing the town in a soft, pale cover, crystalline and beautiful.

A candle burned in the middle of the ground, set in a clear glass bowl, the wax beginning the indigo color of a certain late Shinigami's eyes…it smelled of moonflowers. Orihime had always known the Rukia was his world.

Ichigo's father had always know what his son hid in his closet, and what his child did when he disappeared. Though many years had passed since he had been an official Soul Reaper, though he had donned the robes not so long ago, he could sense the shift in Ichigo's energy, the girl's, and the mod soul. He knew the difference between the rietsu's and had been secretly both worried and amused by the shift.

He put on a comical and insane façade on the outside, but inside, he had always known their secrets. There had been nights when he wondered if the two would not explore their relationship and consummate something so obvious to their friends…but they had never exchanged a loving word or touch. Romance had never blossomed, instead having its bud nipped off before it could get the chance to be.

Maybe it was better that way. Some might think that as a result of never sharing anything intimate that then they would not be so stricken by the loss of the girl.

To him, he knew those people to be fools.

After Karin and her sister had fallen asleep, he called Ichigo down to him and told the boy they were going out for a while. The boy, nearly a man, growled, grumbled, but agreed.

His father brought him to a ramen stand and let him drink some sake."

"I'm underage, moron."

He elbowed his child. "Loosen up and drink with Daddy, would ya'? This is a one-time deal, so enjoy it."

The Soul Reaper/human seemed doubtful, grumbled again, and drank up the shot, grimacing.

Hours passed…finally, Isshin asked his son his question when the orange-haired boy was reasonably tipsy.

"So, that Kuchiki girl…you miss her?"

Ichigo stared into his cup for some time…finally, Isshin slapped him on the back with encouragement and forced an answer out of him.

"Everyone does, Dad. Even though she was a royal pain in the ass for a midget obsessed with rabbits."

Isshin cocked an eyebrow. "What else? I barely got to get to know her before she passed."

Ichigo laughed. "Consider yourself lucky. She nagged, her drawings were crap, she hit people for no apparent reason…she was the most utterly stubborn bitch I've ever met."

"So you really liked her, didn't you?"

Ichigo closed his eyes. "…I suppose so."

She haunted him, especially on days like this, full of ice and freezing wind. He remembered random memories with her, heard her aggravating voice in his head, remembered the way they fought.

Mostly, though, he remembered how he could have saved her. If he hadn't risen to that Arrancar's bait, he could have gone back and saved her from that trident that had speared her body. He could have rescued her again.

And as much guilt he possessed over her death, over loosing her, he hated her for not keeping her promise to him. Her promise to stay safe.

"Ichigo, do us all a favor and remember only the best parts of her."

Isshin stood up, gazing at his son, pouring him the last of the drink, leaving him to his thoughts. He knew it would take time for his son to move past the girl…he knew that some part of his child was gone now, never to be replaced. Yet time would heal him with any luck…and he could look upon Rukia's legacy and smile once again. Like himself, Isshin doubted he would ever let himself grow so intimately paired with another again. The sword of fate had fallen and severed their bond, but Ichigo was not likely to forget it all the same.

Because that was the way love worked.

Both Isshin and Orihime knew that.

On the cross, Rukia closed her eyes and said thanks to all of them, save one…and thought to herself the word "Arigato" and whispered goodbye.

Sometimes, for the greater good, we must lose all those our hearts long for. With triumph comes sacrifice…even heroes cannot save them all. To save one thing, we might have to lose the one thing we don't want to live without. But real heroes let them go to save the world, even if they lose their own. They make that sacrifice despite the pain it brings. Because that is what their hearts can do…lose everything and then go on.

It's why they are heroes—because they are willing to make a hero's sacrifice. But that doesn't mean they won't be filled with remorse in the end.

Ichigo closed his eyes. The moonlight shone on his face through the window. "Arigato, Rukia. Goodbye."

And the snow, so like the rain to him, fell in the night.