It's on her lips.

"Stay here." Stay with me.

Those words.

Damning them. It's weird. It's strange, unheard of. But, as they face each other outside Kukaku Shiba's house, the words die in her throat. He was so alive, so bright, passionate. She thinks of the sun untouchable in the sky, understanding a little more how Renji felt; appreciating his affection from a distance.

I'm not going back, she thinks, smiling. It's funny how he thought she was going back with him to Karakura to a fake life, belonging to a place that was never hers to begin with. But, it would be with him. He wanted her to stay. Rukia was touched, but she still said no.

"See you around," Ichigo's casual wave could've fooled anyone.

…

He says that again. It's almost a habit with all the wild and crazy things that go on in his hometown. The Soul Reapers are inevitably dragged into it each and every time. But, she has an even worse one, a bad one at that. Sometimes, when he smiles/smirks, it was all her heart could do to stop from flip-flopping in her chest.

…

Saving her. The Bounts. The Zanpakuto rebellion. The winter war. The Fullbringers. Yhwach. Everything melded into one in her memories. They weren't perfect nor did she remember everything said. Only his cocky self-assured smile and words. "See you around." Around their third ...or was it fourth parting? Rukia couldn't remember exactly, she knew she simply faded from his sight. Renji attempted to comfort her when they were walking the streets of Soul Society together.

"He's never known a life of normalcy until now."

She has to agree. She had changed his life; caused him to bleed for her, suffer, endure pain beyond mortal comprehension all because of fate. Fated? Were they fated to meet, fated to part? That wasn't... fair. Then, again when had life ever been fair to her?

"It's best to remember him as a friend lost." Rukia can sympathize, understand. She didn't need her own feelings spoken aloud, knowing they'll be locked up so tightly that no one can ever guess at their existence.

"It was kind of abnormal anyway for him to keep having dealings with us. We're dead after all." Sometimes, Renji didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. She wishes he would. Punching him somewhere, anywhere, then laughing when he roars in pain. It's normal. Almost normal. As normal as she can possibly have.

...

Later. Much later, when he can see her again, they're parting again with those same words. She makebelieves it doesn't bother her, can't. She's noticed Orihime's eyes how they follow him around, sighs, unexpected blushes, the way Orihime clung to his shadow. It'll always be her with those smiles, that light like a ray of sunshine breaking through on a cloudy day. Though, Rukia knows Orihime can't see it yet, her smiles do effect him.

He smiles back even the slightest; even if it's only to reassure her.

The tiniest part of her heart that she can't suppress without feeling entirely dead inside; oh, the irony, whispers, what about me? She's completely unlike a ghost yet Masaki had children with one, a ghost, a shade, the shadow of a dead human. A Shinigami. It is truly so impossible?

A deeper part of her knows it is.

…

Ten years.

It feels like one hundred.

She smiles when their children meet, reflecting that once it could've been that way, if Isshin Shiba had stayed a Shinigami, if Ichigo had been born in another realm; if Hisana had held onto her and been raised up with Byakuya's marriage to her. They could've met the way their son and daughter did, sharing smiles, playing at mock sword-fights. They could've been something more if only their lives had been different. She could've been his childhood friend, if only they weren't who they were.

If his smile tightens on the edges; it's because Renji said something thoughtlessly about those lost during the war. If she stares a little too much at Orihime, it's because she's reveling in the happiness her friend has found. Lies. The moment they're alone together, her (traitorous) mind overlays all the might-have-beens with reality. Hers. Theirs. The one she made true with her choices.

– stay with me –

Foolish words indeed, but with them, the outcome might've been different.

Epilogue

Because there always has to be a finality to happiness. Rukia understood that now. How cyclic life truly was. Whatever it is she has, life, existence, Renji. It's meant to be lost only to be regained. She doesn't know how much time has passed when it happens. They're busy now with their own Divisions. Thirteenth runs as smoothly or smoother than when Ukitake was Captain. The Captain-Commander takes special interest in Thirteenth, partial to the officers in memory of his friend. Sometimes, Rukia goes with him to Ukitake's resting place, the stone with his name, reminiscing.

She sees Renji in the evenings, a kiss here or there. His eyes soften when he says her name. Deep down, she knows she should be contented with that. Love. Such a fickle emotion. I thought I did, she thought to herself, saying goodbye. Just a routine mission. I mean, I do. She had said it once, those words. I do. Always. Always. For once, Rukia remembered to feel concern, it's her husband, dammit. Captain Kotetsu won't let her see him.

"It's for the best." They say.

What is?

But, maybe she knows he won't kiss her again, eyes light up when she enters a room. Rukia never wanted that, only the comfort his presence gave, a steadiness instead of passion. She remembers arguments, punches, kicks, yelling and laughter. She hadn't felt so alive until she knew it, knew him. She misses it.

Lieutenant Matsumoto tells her first. Months. Six months. A year? Another ten years; she can't remember. In the end, Matsumoto was closer to Orihime than she, Rukia, ever was. It was something mundane. A car accident. Matsumoto knew first because she went to see them on special permission the day it happened.

"They'll never find each other," Rangiku waned, moaning over Sake in the evening. It was true. A nameless Soul Reaper konso'd them at different times of the day. Orihime had stayed earthbound looking for Kazui. Maybe it's the Sake Rukia drinks alongside the Lieutenant that makes her feel that way. The tiniest bit vindictive. Yes, they'll never find each other. Souls newly arriving to Soul Society have their memories wiped of their time on earth.

She hated herself a little more then.

Another decade. Another time of tribulation, petty squabbling within the circle of Captains, new appointments, everything it takes to run a Division she takes in stride. Every day, she waited for it. Some news. Some sighting. Ichika begins her studies at the academy. Rukia waited even when she didn't realize it herself, that she was waiting for him.

The day it happens is like any other.

Raining. Pouring. Cold, hard rain almost like ice pelting her, soaking through her white haori and shihakusho. She cradled the paperwork closer to her chest, flashstepping through the district eager to drop off the inventory list with Captain Hirako.

She's so focused on avoiding the worst of the soaking, that she nearly misses him at first. The figure standing stock-still in the rain. Clad in black, hair plastered down to his scalp, face turned up, bathed in the rain. Cleansing rain. He stands tall, unbent, face faintly lined. She can't quite see him through the rain even as their shoulders brush, a tingle of reiatsu familiar (as familiar as the cold embrace of her own power) washes over her senses.

"Oi! Watch it!" He snaps, stumbling slightly. They both do. Even as Rukia's world froze. Urgency forgotten, she stopped in the middle of the street, back to him, refusing to look, refusing for her stubborn foolish heart to flip-flop as it once did on a hot summer's day outside Kukaku Shiba's house. When she had thought they were meant to be, supposed to be. Stay with me, those three damned words she never said. "What idiot in their right mind stands in the rain?!" She snaps back, spinning around, furious in all her short glory.

"Maybe somebody should be watching where the hell they're going!" He fires back, unfazed by the sight of her haori, though he must've seen it for all he's glaring daggers at her. Rukia stares at him, seeing the lines of age...he must've been in his thirties...no forties...she was never good at telling a human's age. Does it matter? None of it matters. Something in Ichigo's hard gaze softened the longer he stared back at her, watching her paperwork sag, ruining in the deluge.

"Where are you going to report to, Soul Reaper?" She can barely bring herself to break eye contact with him; afraid for once in her existence, that he's going to disappear before her eyes as she did once to him. But, Ichigo doesn't go anywhere. He scowls, scuffs his sandal; they're both soaked to the skin. She can feel it, but doesn't care if he doesn't.

He sniffs and shrugs, noncomittally grunting. "Thirteenth for placement within their Division."

"Idiot...say hello to your new Captain, then." She finds herself smirking; it's just like old times again, and maybe - just maybe this time, something will be different.

-finis

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach (obviously)

AN: Thanks for reading. My feelings after the final chapter spoilers. No flames. Please review.