Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Epilogue ❯ Mementos ( Chapter 5 )

Epilogue

 

Chapter Five: Mementos

 

Three days earlier

 

Ichigo wakes up again, his body drenched with cold sweat and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He feels foolish for letting another nightmare get the best of him, but he cannot help it.

 

The dream is still fresh in his mind, not quite drifting away like most dreams do after waking.

 

He blinks in disbelief.

 

Is he standing on the side of a building? No, this can't be right. He hasn't heard Zangetsu's voice since that fateful day…so being back in this place should be impossible.

 

He surveys his surroundings and finds that his inner world has changed. It's completely in ruins, and the sky is the color of blood. He can hear what sounds like thunder in the distance, the skies occasionally lighting up before fading back to red.

 

What could have caused all of this?

 

“Hey, long time no see, your majesty.”

 

This time it's not a mirror he sees, but the real thing - in the flesh - that stands before him.

 

His Hollow has a smile on his sickeningly pale skinned face, and his orange eyes are glowing in the darkness that permeates the environment.

 

“Where is Zangetsu?” Ichigo asks warily.

 

The Hollow-Ichigo comes closer to him. “Like I told you many years ago, I am Zangetsu. He's a part of me, and I'm a part of him.”

 

Ichigo hasn't never been very good with remembering things, so he can only look at his dark reflection with a sense of confusion.

 

“Huh?” Ichigo mumbles, scratching at his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

Instead of being annoyed, the Hollow continues to smile. “The only thing that hasn't changed about you is your bad memory, Ichigo.”

 

“This is only a dream,” Ichigo mutters, “you died a long time ago with the others.”

 

His Hollow giggles at that remark. “The others…yes, they did die, didn't they? All those friends of your… they all died for you, right?”

 

Ichigo is taken back by the Hollow's twisting of his words.

 

“But I'm still here, Ichigo,” the Hollow continues, “I'm still here and they are long gone. It seems that I am the only friend you have left.”

 

Ichigo's fists tighten and he's filled with a rage he has not felt in a long time. “Shut up. You're not real. This is all just one big stupid dream.”

 

“Tell me why you stopped being a Soul Reaper, Ichigo,” the Hollow-Ichigo inquires, studying Ichigo with those orange eyes of his.

 

“There was no need. There were no more Hollows to fight anymore,” Ichigo angrily answers, ready to kick the Hollow's ass, dream or no dream.

 

The Hollow tilts his head. “You're lying. You loved being a Soul Reaper, Ichigo. We both know that you enjoyed the power that surged through you every time you transformed.”

 

“No!” Ichigo protests angrily, fists ready to strike. “I only did it to protect, never for power-”

 

“Did you stop because she left you?” the Hollow suddenly suggests, with mock-innocence in his voice.

 

Ichigo freezes in place, caught off guard by the question.

 

“I can't blame you. She was quite attractive for a girl her age,” he laughs, “but she left you ten years ago. Get over it already.”

 

The Hollow-Ichigo is close now, but Ichigo does not flinch or attempt to move away. “Your inner world has been in ruins for far too long. It's depressing to be here. I want to be free of this shithole that you've left me in. I want to be living the life that you are wasting.”

 

A white mask with many black marks on it materializes in the Hollow's hand.

 

“I offered you this once before. Why don't you take it now?” he suggests. “Think of it as a small memento of me.”

 

Ichigo stares at the mask, disturbed by what it represents.

 

“It's power in its purest form, Ichigo. Enjoy it.”

 

Ichigo does not say yes.

 

“Become strong again. Let me lend you my power.”

 

What bothers Ichigo, however, is that he does not say no either.

 

He can almost feel the weight of the mask in his hand, but it is only his imagination getting the better of him. There is no Hollow mask, no Hollow-Ichigo, and his Inner World is not in ruins.

 

It was only a dream, after all.

 

But Ichigo cannot help but think about the dream Hollow's words. A part of him is afraid to admit that he was intrigued by the offer, even if it was just a dream.

 

“If I had had more power…would I have been able to save them?”

 

“Ichigo! Help me!” Kon pleads, reaching for Ichigo with his tiny, stuffed animal arms.

 

Ichigo, severely wounded and on the ground, can only watch in horror as Gin Ichimaru casually puts his hand in the stuffed lion's mouth, takes out the soul candy containing Kon's soul, and crushes it into dust between his fingers.

 

“Kon…” Ichigo murmurs, before passing out from his wounds.

 

He has failed to protect again.

 

He looks over to his nightstand, where Kon's stuffed animal body sits motionlessly next to other familiar objects.

 

It is all that remains of his friend now.

 

“Kurosaki,” Ishida says calmly. “I will handle him.”

 

Ishida touches the blade of Ichigo's soul slayer, giving himself an immense boost of spirit energy, much like how he did when they first fought together. His bow glows with blue light, shimmering brightly enough that Ichigo has to turn away so that he won't be blinded.

 

“I hope you don't mind me borrowing some of your spirit energy,” he says casually, never taking his eyes off Gin.

 

“Ishida, do you have some sort of plan?” Ichigo asks bewilderedly. “I hope you're not planning to die.”

 

Ishida's face turns solemn. “Do you remember that Quincy cross I put on the back of Kon's head?”

 

Ichigo nods painfully, the death of Kon still fresh in his memory. “Yes. Why?”

 

“I put that there because Kon was the weakest of our group. In case he was ever destroyed,” Ishida explains, swallowing hard, “the person who killed him would be more vulnerable to my Quincy attacks. And in case you're wondering, all of my friends carry this cross somewhere on their clothing - even you, Kurosaki.”

 

The expression on Gin's face darkens considerably, his deceiving smile no longer apparent on his unnaturally thin face. “Nice trick, boy. But it won't help you.”

 

The former captain of the third division places a bony hand on his soul slayer, getting into an offensive position.

 

“Shoot to kill, Shinso,” Gin speaks smoothly, his blade shooting out of its hilt toward the Quincy.

 

Ishida avoids it barely, using the Quincy version of a flash step. He has gotten stronger and faster, but is it enough to face down a former captain?

 

“Go, Kurosaki! The others need you,” Ishida orders, drawing back on his spiritually enhanced bow. “Inoue needs you.”

 

Ichigo wants to stay and help fight, but he knows that he is desperately needed elsewhere. Ishida is one of his strongest allies, but he doesn't' have a good feeling about this.

 

“Don't die Ishida!” Ichigo tells him, flash stepping away from the battle, telling himself not to look back.

 

Three items have been neatly placed next to the lifeless lion doll: a blue and silver Quincy cross, a pair of light blue hairpins, and a golden chain with a Mexican coin attached to it.

 

They are reminders of his failure to protect.

 

He closes his eyes, trying to forget about the dream, but he can't. His phone is close by…he could call Tatsuki, but he doesn't want to risk the chance of waking up her daughter in the process.

 

He sits up, his eyes darting around the room, trying to find a diversion for him to occupy himself with until he falls back to sleep. His eyes fixate on a black guitar that Chad gave him years ago. He tosses the covers away and crawls out of bed, hesitantly walking over to the guitar.

 

“I got you this,” Chad says, presenting him with a black guitar. “Inoue thought it suited you.”

 

Ichigo eyes Chad, giving him a weird look. “What's the occasion?” he asks, holding the guitar in his hands and feeling the weight of it; he finds that it's actually pretty light.

 

“We are friends,” he tells him simply. Inoue pops out from behind the giant, a big smile on her face. He doesn't know much about the girl, except that he remembers seeing her years ago at the clinic.

 

Trying not to seem rude, he smiles gratefully for their impromptu present. “I'll be sure to cherish it.”

 

His fingers brush against the strings, the instrument producing an old tune that his friend used to play. It's a calming melody, Chad told him one time. He said his grandfather taught it to him when he was young, back when he lived in Mexico.

 

While pleasant, the song does nothing to sooth his exhausted nerves, so he puts down the guitar against the drawer, making sure not to damage it.

 

His eyes again drift over to the mementos left behind by his friends. Each of them were important to them: Ishida was given the cross by his grandfather, Inoue received the hairpins as a final gift from her brother, and the foreign coin was imparted to Chad by the person he called “abuelo.”

 

His mind tells him that those items should not be there, that they should still be in use by the people who cherished them.

 

“I lacked the power to protect them. That's why they're all gone now.”

 

She was gone too, but for reasons beyond his control. It didn't matter how much power he had, because it wouldn't have stopped her from leaving. Once she had her mind made up, there was no stopping her.

 

The first thing he sees when he enters the room is her artificial body lying discarded on the floor, still wearing the yellow sundress he liked so much. The next thing he sees is her, wearing the black robes of a Soul Reaper, standing near the edge of a window.

 

He already knows what she intends to do, but that doesn't mean he'll just stand there and let her do it. That was never his style, anyways.

 

“Don't leave,” Ichigo says quietly, trying not to show her the raw emotion in his eyes. “I don't want to lose another person I care about.”

 

Rukia pauses near the window, her back turned to him, so he can't tell how she's feeling.

 

“I am needed at home. My brother's family needs me,” she explains. “I have an obligation to them.”

 

“Screw them!” Ichigo slams his fist against a wall. “They almost let you die before!”

 

“I'm not doing it for them,” she corrects him. “I'm doing it for my brother.”

 

Ichigo grows frantic, the possibility of losing Rukia become more real by the second. “What about me?”

 

She pauses again, as if she's deciding whether or not she will really go through with this.

 

“I need to go. I can't stay here any longer,” she sighs, and he's frustrated that she ignored his question.

 

He struggles with what he's about to say. “Don't go. I love you, Rukia. Stay.” Ichigo has lost too many people in his life for someone his age, so when he tells her to stay he means it with every inch of his body.

 

She turns her head to look at him, her blue eyes wide with surprise. “I love you too, Ichigo…but I can't.”

 

“Why can't you?” he asks, slowly coming closer to her. “You made a promise to stay.”

 

The expression on her face hardens, much to his dismay.

 

What is she going to say?

 

“I don't need you anymore,” Rukia tells him coldly, turning her back to him. “I doubt we will see each other again. Goodbye.”

 

She leaps out the window and out of his life.

 

She's gone. She's really gone and he won't ever see her again.

 

His cry of anguish pierces the night.

 

Rukia was the only person who didn't leave anything behind. Everything that would've reminded him of her had gone missing after she left, as if she had never existed to begin with.

 

He doesn't like to admit it, but it makes it easier for him. If there had been a single item, he would've put it on his nightstand as well, and then he'd constantly be reminded of losing another person that meant something to him.

 

There were only two people in Karakura left for him to protect: Tatsuki Arisawa and her daughter Orihime, both of whom he cared a great deal for.

 

“What are you going to name her?” he asks gently.

 

She cradles the bundle in her arms with the tenderness of a mother. “You're the one who delivered her, Ichigo. How about naming her, too?”

 

He looks at the baby's face to find her smiling and giggling at him, reaching for him with tiny hands.

 

He blinks. The smile reminds him of a girl that he used to know.

 

He looks up at Tatsuki, a rare smile forming on his face. “How about we name her Orihime?”

 

Tears pour down Tatsuki's face, yet she smiles along with him, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against his. “Orihime it is.”

 

He staggers back to bed, suddenly feeling exhausted. He doesn't bother with the covers, preferring to just lie down and look at the ceiling until he drifts off to sleep.

 

Another wave of fatigue washes over him, and his eyes suddenly feel heavy with sleep.

 

A voice in his head tells him to rest now, that he will need to conserve his energy if he wants to protect them.

 

The voice tells him that he doesn't need to worry, that they'll be well taken care of.

 

He feels a chill go down his back when he imagines himself hearing laughter…a familiar laughter that has haunted him for the last few days.

 

He feels like he's losing control of himself, but he's not sure why. “No…” he mutters, putting his hands to his ears to block out the voice, “I don't need you…”

 

Ichigo rolls out of bed, hitting the floor with a loud crash. He groans out in pain, his head throbbing and his vision fading in and out.

 

“I don't want the power…that you're offering me,” he growls through clenched teeth.

 

The sharp pain suddenly disappears, leaving him disoriented and confused on the floor.

 

It takes him a few moments to collect himself before he realizes that his Hollow was trying to forcibly take over his body.

 

The bastard was trying to take over his body!

 

Ichigo gets up, burning with renewed resolve. “I won't let you hurt them,” he growls angrily. “I'll die before I let you take over my body.”

 

His right arm twitches involuntarily, as if the Hollow is challenging him.

 

“I won't let you take over my life,” he whispers fiercely, holding his right arm firmly. “It's mine, you bastard! Do you hear me? It's mine!”

 

His eyes twitch suddenly, the color of the pupils turning an unnatural orange for a brief moment.

 

He rubs at his eyes, not allowing his resolve to diminish. “I won't let you hurt her.”

 

Sooner or later, your life will be mine, Ichigo. It's only a matter of time before I become the king, and you become my horse.

 

A giggle escapes his lips, and he finds himself unable to stop, soon erupting into a high pitched laugh. He clutches at his sides in pain and falls down to his knees, before mercifully losing consciousness.

 

His last thoughts consist of a black-haired child smiling at him, and telling him that everything would be okay.

 

To be continued