When you mess with fate

Epilogue

A/N: I do not own Bleach and its characters. If I did... Never mind…

I step out of the Urahara shoten, ignoring the noise of those two idiot exiled shinigami who never seem to grow up. They are teasing me again. It happens every time I come to the world of the living. Looking down one last time at the white sleeveless top and skinny jeans Yoruichi has prepared for my gigai, I think to myself that at least that's one thing that I approve of.

It has been a hundred years since the human world liaison has been restructured after the last human with spiritual powers died at 90. Renji no longer holds that post because the soutaichou saw that the hollow activity in Karakura Town has significantly dropped. The Visored are the ones officially in-charged of performing konso and slaying hollows now. The shoten is still the communication hub. There are no humans with spiritual powers since Yasutora Sado and Ishida Uryuu have passed on. Thus, Kyouraku-soutaichou assigns one month of each year for every captain to drop by Karakura for an official visit to report on the activities of the Visored and those two perverted shinigami. Every captain, except Kurotsuchi Mayuri, that is. That freak refuses to leave his lab unless something experiment-worthy pops up at the Rukongai.

So here I am, in the month of January. It's my turn to check up on Karakura. I have applied for an extended stay here this year. It's my 320th year of existence so I thought I should give myself some vacation. No one knows, of course. But the soutaichou understands that I need a break. My official stay is three days. I've only extended a couple of days. So it's not really that much of a difference. No one ever expects that Kuchiki Rukia would know how to slack off. They will think I'm just delayed at coming back because Urahara and Yoruichi are stalling with their reporting – a fact everyone knows by now since every captain has a chance to deal with these two crazies once a year.

I thought I'd do a little self-pampering like having a whole afternoon drinking coffee while reading a book, taking a stroll at the park, treating myself to a nice dinner, going to the movies, and maybe even dropping by Karakura High School for a visit. It's been a while.

A hundred years is such a long time. So many things have changed; their technology for one, and – as I walk around a familiar route that has gotten a lot busier – even their fashion sense. There are more people in casual clothes than before. On this part of Tokyo, that is. Karakura has always been a small town where people are more traditional. Now, even the old people selling sweets and ice-cream at the street stalls are no longer wearing yukata. I see a lot of people talking to themselves. Must be some communication device planted in their ears that I can't see. It's kind of weird, though.

I don't know if I should be surprised but the first place my feet take me is the house where the Kurosaki Clinic used to be. Of course, I shouldn't be surprised, I mentally snorted. This place marks the big turn in my life 175 years ago. That fateful day when I walked right through the bedroom wall of a 15-year-old human boy who fucking kicked me on the back of my head.

As I approach the building, I could see that the big signboard has been removed. As expected, it's no longer a clinic since the resident doctor had a 'cardiac arrest' many years ago. I wonder who lives there now.

Ichika told me that Kazui never got married. He died, quite tragically, in a car accident. She was heartbroken when she went to perform konso on him, knowing that she might never see her human best friend again. (Ichigo wanted to do it but Kazui had booked Ichika to be the one sending him off when he first discovered the existence of the shinigami.) They spent an entire afternoon together in their spirit forms. Kazui was not very pleased because he appeared as he was at the prime of his life – 55, when he took over his biological father's company and became the CEO, which was only ten years prior. Ichika, on the other hand, still looked barely 16. An inch before the hilt of Ichika's zanpakutou touched his forehead, Kazui admitted that he was in love with Ichika for the longest time but didn't want to make things awkward between them because they could never be together.

"Don't want history to repeat itself," he had said.

"Bastard!" Ichigo commented when Ichika told us the story over dinner, all while bawling her eyes out. "What did he mean by that?"

I remember rolling my eyes at the orange-haired idiot sitting across from me, as I rubbed my daughter's back in an attempt to comfort her. I must commend that boy on the wise choice he made.

Back at the old Kurosaki home... From where I stand across the street from their gate, I could see the father sitting at the breakfast table with one of those see-through screens hovering over their food while having his coffee. The mother is rushing her children to get ready for school. And the children – hah, one boy and a pair of twin girls. How familiar.

"Nakamura Michi! Come back here and get your breakfast," the mother calls.

The boy lazily drags himself back into the house and snatches a bento from his mother as his sisters bump his sides when they run past him.

Ah... Typical modern Japanese family.

Next destination: the coffeehouse. This gigai needs some breakfast. I think I'll just spend the entire day binging on cakes and coffee until it is time for that movie. These are things I cannot do in Soul Society, things I've missed about the human world. I'll just take a nice long walk past the park and Karakura High on my way there.

The park is more or less still the same: people jogging, taking their dogs out for walks, mothers strolling with their children who are too young to go to school, and some teen couples in their school uniforms – obviously escaping classes – making out behind trees. I scowl, thinking back on a conversation Isshin had with Ichika some years ago when we dropped by for dinner.

"Otou-san was a delinquent in school?" Ichika asked incredulously when her grandfather mentioned how Ichigo used to come back home with bruises all over from fights.

Isshin laughed out loud. "He was more than a delinquent, Ichika-chan. There were rumours that he was a sex addict, always running off during classes with your mother. I had a hard time convincing the principal that my son was a prude virgin."

"What the hell are you yapping about, old man?" Ichigo grabbed the collar of his father's shirt to pull him out from the couch and the two started punching each other. As usual, it ended with the losing Shiba hugging the poster of his wife, crying to her about how disrespectful their son was.

Ichika had a horrified look as she turned to me questioningly with her wide purplish eyes. I was sitting at the dinner table glaring at Karin and Yuzu who were snickering behind their palms across from me while we were preparing the ingredients for dinner.

Yes, we found the twins in the Rukongai after their passing. They ended up within the first 15 districts so it wasn't very hard to look for them. And because they had some high levels of reiryoku, we were able to recover their memories. They were never ordinary humans anyway, because they were part shinigami.

And I cannot believe Isshin still puts up a big poster of Masaki-san in their home. Then again, I think it's rather sweet that Isshin's love for his wife is eternal. The woman is well-loved in this family. Ichika even tried to curl her hair once so she would look like her grandmother, which she really did.

Speaking of Masaki-san, I visit her grave (and Isshin's) every time I come to the human world. There are not many graveyards around anymore, as most people prefer cremation. The one where Masaki-san lies is the only one that's on top of a hill. This is where I come to for some peace and quiet away from Urahara and Yoruichi.

Moving on...

Karakura High School. I look up at that particular window I scaled to surprise Ichigo when I returned to the human world after he rescued me from my execution. I think that was the time when I fell for the bakamono. Maybe much earlier but I was aware of my feelings for him only then. Like Kazui, I never planned on letting Ichigo know about it. We couldn't be together because we were two worlds apart. So I kept it to myself, although I sometimes suspected he felt the same way. I didn't want to risk it. But after Yhwach, we got to spend more time together alone and I guess, it just couldn't be helped that our feelings for each other would surface. And look how it turned out. How many people got hurt because we chose to develop what we had?

No, I'm still not really over this. I'm not over the fact that Orihime didn't get the life she wanted. I'm not over the fact that the children had to suffer... even though, they did make peace with it later on. Kazui was satisfied with his life when he finally managed to find his real father and they both accepted each other enough to be able to work together. Ichika on the other hand, got the best of both worlds... both fathers, that is. Although one is more like an uncle to her, the other comes with a grandfather, three aunts, and a 'hog wild' uncle – pardon the pun.

Okay, I guess the problem lies with me. I'm the only one still buried under a brick pile of guilt. Even after Ichigo had burnt Orihime's letter, her words still haunt me sometimes.

I could never replace you in any way, Rukia.

I shake the thoughts out of my head as I walk away from the school towards the coffeehouse I frequent on my visits the past five years I've been here. I am going to enjoy myself today. It may not be the 14th yet – Nii-sama would never allow me to be away on my birthday – but I am going to give myself a little celebratory outing and there couldn't have been a better place than the human world to do it because I can be myself here. No one will judge me on how I behave, the things I do, or the shopping I'm going to indulge myself in at the Chappy Store tomorrow.

"Black coffee with doughnuts," the cashier confirms my order and I notice the welcoming smile on his face. "Anything else?"

I look to the side where a whole array of cakes and brownies are. I am definitely going to try each one of them. "Maybe later? I'll come back and order some more."

He nods, tapping on the screen in front him before announcing my total. I pay up with the currency I exchanged earlier with Urahara and after getting my receipt, I pick a table by the window in the far corner of the shop.

Two cups of coffee, a tall strawberry milkshake, two doughnuts, a cheesecake, and a walnut chocolate brownie later, I am still enjoying the novel I bought from the bookshop next door earlier. I must have been so engrossed in it that I do not hear it when a man and a woman come to sit at a table a few feet away from mine. It is the sound of their voices that catches my attention, at first.

The man's back is facing me and his tall stature has the woman covered from my view. As I observe them, the man stands up from his seat, probably going to get a napkin or extra sugar and when he turns, I am taken by surprise by the familiarity of his looks. Jet-black hair that reaches the nape of his neck, pale skin, bespectacled, calm demeanour, prim and proper dressing with designer shoes...

My eyes immediately go back to where his table is and sitting there, is a woman with long orange hair, her bangs secured at the side by a flower pin. She has a pretty face, is decently-dressed to cover her huge chest, and she is... scooping red bean paste into their coffee cups?

Before the man returns, she quickly drops the tiny jar into her open handbag and gives him an angelic smile. The man leans over their table and kisses her on her cheek, causing her to blush furiously. Her eyes twinkle as her smile widens and she starts talking animatedly about robots or something.

"They look happy."

I gasp when I hear the familiar voice coming from my own table. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demand in a harsh whisper, gritting my teeth as I face the strawberry head who is sitting across from me. Stupid, stupid strawberry head looking so handsome in his black button down shirt that fits his broad shoulders and toned... What is wrong with me?

He smirks. "Checking me out, Midget?"

Fucking hell...

"You wish!" I snap. "Why are you here?"

"I followed you," he says in nonchalance. Of course, Kurosaki Ichigo has always been the most honest man in the world, centuries over.

I cross my arms as I lean back in my chair. "Go back to Soul Society. Don't ruin this for me."

"Ruin what? Your 320th birthday outing?" he chuckles, crossing his arms as well. His rolled-up sleeves revealing the muscles of his forearms as they flex...

Narrowing my eyes, I snarl, "Go away, Strawberry. I want to be alone today."

He shrugs. "Just ignore me then. I'm going to stay whether you want me here or not. Like you, I'm also visiting my hometown."

"Do it some other time. This one's mine."

He ignores me, grabs my milkshake – or what's left of it, and takes a loud sip through the straw. "Gross," he says. His face wrinkles as he places the cup back on the table. "I don't understand why this is your favourite flavour."

"So you're saying you're gross?"

"And you're saying I'm your favourite flavour?"

Damn... Walked right into that one. Shoving the book into my bag, I get up to leave in a huff. He follows. And before we walk past the couple, he goes ahead of me with his long strides and takes my free hand, leading me out of the coffeehouse. Neither the man nor the woman look up at us in recognition.

I yank my hand back from him when we are outside the shop. "What are you doing?"

"I'm..."

"Is this man giving you trouble, Miss?"

We both turn around to see the cashier from the coffeehouse holding the glass door, his upper body popping out from the shop.

Ichigo shoots him a glare. "It's none of your business, brat!"

Brat? I scoff inwardly. Does the idiot realise that he looks at least 10 years younger than the cashier?

The man looks him up and down before he glances at me questioningly.

"It's fine. I can handle this," I tell the staff with my sweetest smile and realises instantly that my face is hurting from lack of practice.

"Are you sure?" he asks, concern evident in his eyes.

I don't have to look at Ichigo to know his fists are clenched and he is going to punch somebody soon. It would be fun to put on my schoolgirl act right now and be the damsel in distress just to annoy the hell out of him. But I do not want to see that poor human get smashed in the face by a 190-year-old death god in a gorgeous human form.

Okay, yes I think Kurosaki Ichigo looks hot in modern day attire – that black shirt on those slim-fitted jeans... In my defence, I haven't seen him in anything other than his shihakusho and the occasional yukata in over a hundred years. The last time I did, he was old and greying and looked about to kick the bucket anytime. Besides, I'm on a vacation. And so are my eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure," I say, keeping the aching smile on my face.

He looks at Ichigo again, who bares his teeth at him.

I roll my eyes. Men.

The cashier turns back to me and nods. "Alright. If he bothers you, let me know and I'll call the police."

I nod – still smiling, ignoring the glare that is directed at me as I watch the cashier go back into the shop before I turn around and walk away.

Of course, the idiot would follow. Again. "Hey."

"What?" Rukia drawls.

"Where are you going?" Ichigo asks; the incident with the cashier long forgotten.

The girl keeps walking until she reaches the cinema a few blocks away from the coffeehouse and heads straight to the ticket counter, already knowing which movie she is going to watch after looking it up on the internet at Urahara's. She tells the lady behind the counter the title of the Japanese action movie and picks her seat.

Ichigo stands behind her, his chest trapping her body to the counter as he informs the lady he is taking the seat next to Rukia's. He fishes out a few bills from his wallet and hands it to the woman, beating Rukia to it.

"I can pay my own," the captain grumbles, stomping away from the counter.

Ichigo chuckles as he follows her to one of the movie posters lined up against the wall.

She turns around and holds her palm out to demand for her ticket, which is attached to his.

The former shinigami daiko shakes his head. "I'm keeping it. Want to get something to drink?"

"No," she replies.

He goes and buys a large drink anyway… and a large bag of popcorn.

Twenty minutes later, they are seated at the last row of the cinema, watching movie trailers before their show begins.

"Why are you doing this?" Rukia asks, keeping her voice as quiet as possible so she doesn't disturb the other movie goers sitting in front of them. They are the only ones in their row.

"I've never dated you before," he answers, his eyes on the screen ahead of them.

Rukia feels her heart skip a beat but she chooses to ignore it. "This is not a date."

"Why? Because I didn't ask you out?"

She keeps quiet; her violet orbs remain on the screen and they lapse into silence.

Ichigo is not lying when he says that he has followed her to the human world. He's even staying at the shoten. But after so many years of training with his father and Renji, and by himself in Soul Society, he has gotten better at masking his presence. It comes second nature to him these days. The only time he releases them is during a fight or when he gets really pissed off at Isshin and Ganju.

When he arrived last night, he managed to shut the mouths of Urahara and Yoruichi, demanding a futon and a gigai to be brought for him at the training ground. He also made sure that Rukia was out on patrol when the senkaimon opened in the human world.

As they continue to stare at the motion picture that is going on before them, neither their minds are really focused on it. Ichigo, for one, is recalling what has led to him tailing her to Karakura in the first place.

He and Renji were hanging out at the izakaya – their usual Friday night post-training thing just because Ichigo had nothing better to do and life could be pretty boring for him. If it were up to the orange-haired shinigami, they would be hanging out there every other night like what they used to do. But the motley crew – Ikkaku, Yumichika, Shuuhei, and Rangiku – was the izakaya's nightly band of customers and Ichigo never liked being there with them unless his redhead 'best friend of kami-knows-since-when' was present, too.

In the past five years, however, said best friend had not been able to spare much time for him except on Fridays. The Sixth Division fukutaichou had started going out with a Shinō Academy student who was graduating the next year and who looked suspiciously like Arisawa Tatsuki when she was in her teens. Incidentally, she went by the name Tsuki but she had no memories of her time in the human world. Ichigo never bothered asking. He was just happy for Renji. So were Rukia and Ichika.

"How is it going with Rukia?" Renji asked, pouring sake into Ichigo's saucer.

The Shiba Prince shrugged. "Doesn't look like we're going anywhere."

"It's been 120 years since you moved here," Renji commented.

"124," Ichigo corrected. "But who's counting?"

Both men sipped their sake as they watched a brawl that was happening at the other end of the room.

"Sometimes I tell myself that this is enough," Ichigo said, breaking their silence. "You know, having her as a parenting partner for Ichika, them coming over to dinner every weeknight and me going over to the Kuchiki manor every weekend. It's okay as long as it works, as long as we exist together, as long as she's around and we're not too far apart from each other."

"But you want something more," Renji reckoned.

Ichigo nodded mindlessly. "I want something more. That thing we had when we were recuperating after the war. Almost four weeks of bliss. It was the best non-battle time of my life. Why can't we have that now?"

"Have you tried talking to her about it again?"

"No. I don't want to pressure her."

Renji scoffed. "It's been 124 years, Strawberry. I think she would be able to excuse you if you asked her again. Take her out for a drink. Just the two of you without the whole circus."

"Like a date?" Ichigo's brows knitted at the thought.

"You can call it what you want," Renji chuckled. "It needn't have to be a date. Just a couple of friends having a drink."

Ichigo sighed, propping his elbows on the tabletop as he buried his face in the palm of his hands. "I don't know if she would like that."

"Ask her," Renji encouraged.

"It's not a date," Ichigo mumbles mid-way through the movie.

"Huh?" Rukia glances at him, wondering why he speaks up all of a sudden after watching the movie in silence for over an hour.

"We're just two friends taking a day off to hang out," he clarifies without looking away from the screen.

Rukia nods slowly, sinking deeper into her seat.

"It's not a date," Ichigo repeats, sipping his drink before offering it to her.

She takes it and drinks from his straw, digging into the bag on his lap for the popcorn before shoving them into her mouth.

He smirks and relaxes in his seat too.

Coming out of the cinema, the two death gods wince at the sudden brightness of the day. The sun is just about to set and they realise that it has rained a bit while they were inside. The streets are still wet and people at the sidewalk are careful not to move too close to the puddles on the road in case a car drives by and gives them a good splash.

Ichigo has his hands thrust deep in his pockets as he walks beside his female companion. They stroll quietly, just letting the row of shops lead them to wherever it does. Occasionally, he would steal glances at Rukia, secretly admiring the natural beauty she possesses. She doesn't have to pretend to look older in order to blend in, this time around. She appears as how she would look in her shinigami form – someone who is young even for a 20-year-old. Ichigo is amazed by how she never looks like a woman who has given birth before. She still has her slender, youthful figure after all these years. There is not a hint that she is already a mother. All thanks to her shinigami training, I guess.

He nudges his elbow at her shoulder. "You're still such a chibi," he baits. And gets what he asks for – a stomp on his foot. He grits his teeth as he walks on and pretends to be unaffected by the pain.

"You're lucky I'm not wearing heels," Rukia mutters. "And you still look like the freakishly tall buffoon you've always been, fruit head."

Ichigo scoffs. "Careful there, Midget. Back at the coffeehouse, you were checking out this buffoon." He points a finger to his face.

"So you admit that you're a buffoon," she states.

"As long as you admit that you were checking me out." He shrugs.

Rukia chuckles. "Are you that desperate to get an approval for your looks?"

"No," he snorts. "It's just easier for you to admit it and get it over with instead of ogling in silence."

The girl stops walking altogether and stares at him in feigned astonishment, a delicate hand covers her mouth before she puts on her schoolgirl act for real. "Why, Kurosaki-kun, have you been gawking at me so closely to catch me ogling?"

Ichigo flushes red, halting his steps as well. He glares at her as she playful tilts her head, smiles, and blinks like an anime doll. He huffs, "Whatever, Midget. Let's get something to eat." With that, he grabs her hand – ignoring her protests – and they begin walking again.

Several blocks and turns later, the two shinigami find themselves outside a small diner. Rukia doesn't seem to mind the handholding all that much anymore. They stand before the menu displayed at the doorway and skim through the list.

"Are you all right with this?" Ichigo asks, motioning with his free hand at the large poster propped on an easel stand.

Rukia nods. "Yeah, I guess. The dishes look new to me but I don't mind giving one of them a try."

The man leads her into the diner where they take a table at the corner of the shop. It is only when they are seated beside each other in the half-moon booth that he lets go of her hand. A waiter comes to fill their glasses with water before picking up their order of spicy caramelised beef curry, tamarind noodles, and two pints of draught beer.

"I've never taken a girl out before, let alone a noble heiress. Must have been tough on Renji," Ichigo remarks.

Rukia is half-surprised by his first statement because it means he never took Orihime out when they were married. But she doesn't question him on it and instead gives light to the last one. "Dates with Renji were no different from this one," Rukia scoffs, twirling the noodles around her fork.

"This is a date, then?" he asks before he spoons rice and beef into his mouth.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her food.

Ichigo smirks. Maybe there is hope.

After paying for their dinner, Ichigo gets up and offers his hand to the still-petite shinigami, who accepts it willingly. This time, their fingers intertwine as they continue their walk around Karakura.

Rukia steals a glance at the tall man next to her and decides that she likes the serene look on his face, among all the other things that she finds herself appreciating tonight. She figures it must be because he is in a human form. After all, this is the Kurosaki Ichigo she fell in love with so many years ago. Maybe it is happening again. She isn't sure. But she is puzzled that she doesn't find any more resistance within her to the idea of falling for him again.

Sensing her wandering eyes, Ichigo lowers his gaze to meet hers and raises a brow when she doesn't look away. "You might want to take a picture. It'll last longer," he teases, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

She rolls her eyes for the second time that night.

"You know, some day you're going to roll those purple orbs out of their sockets," he chuckles.

"Good," Rukia says. "Then, I won't have to look at that fruit head of yours ever again."

"Ouch..." Ichigo punches the spot over his heart, bringing her hand with his and eliciting yet another eye-roll.

They stop at the river where his mother died. Releasing each other's hand, the shinigami lean against the railing and watch the dark waters as the reflection of the moon begins to play across the soft ripple.

The cool night breeze and the few stars peeping over the clouds are signs that it might rain tonight. It would be a long way back to the shoten.

"We may need to take shelter somewhere," Rukia says, jerking her head back at the direction they come from. She remembers them passing by a boutique hotel not far from the river. "We might not be able to make it to Urahara's in time."

"Yeah. Even though I'm kind of entertaining the idea of leaving our gigai here and finding out how these people would react to them," Ichigo chuckles.

Rukia snorts, "Sounds like something your father would say. I guess it's true what Ichika observes – that you're a lot like her Ojii-san."

"Please," he groans. "That's only because she has never met her Obaa-san."

At the sound of a sudden rumbling in the sky, the two trace their steps back to where the hotel is. There is no drizzle to warn them of the shower they would get themselves into and this, they realise a couple of minutes too late.

After dropping off a deposit for their stay, Ichigo and Rukia are brought to their room. It is rather small – they are only staying one night to shelter from the rain, anyway – which is just enough for two queen beds, a closet, a tea table, and a little space in between. It does, however, come with a balcony. On top of that, they are given yukata to change into while their wet clothes are being taken care of by the laundry service provided by the hotel.

Ichigo comes out of the shower to find Rukia's gigai lying on the bed. The shinigami herself is standing behind the sliding doors of the balcony, looking out as the rain washes over the town. He, too, lays his gigai on his bed before making his way towards the small captain.

Their shinigami form is not reflected on the glass door. They have no reflection. But Rukia senses his reiatsu as he approaches her from behind. It envelops her being even before she feels him snaking his arms around her waist. She leans her head back against the broad chest she was admiring earlier and lets herself relish in the comfort of his embrace. It has been so long.

Pleased that he does not get a negative response from her, Ichigo buries his face in her long tresses before placing a soft kiss on her head. "I miss this," he murmurs into her hair.

She closes her eyes as she rests her forearms over his; her fingers play with the sleeve of his shihakusho. "Me too."

"I think I'm done waiting."

She chuckles before turning around in his arms to look up into his face. "I'm sorry, Ichigo," she says, lifting a hand to his cheek while she places the other on his chest. "For the wait."

Ichigo's ambers gaze back into her violets. There is no way he is going to let them go back to Soul Society the way they were before today. Tucking her hair behind her ear, he asks, "So what's it going to be now? Are we going to continue ignoring each other's feelings or do we put an end to this chase?"

She smiles as she winds her hands around his neck and plays with the hair at the nape – something she remembers he used to enjoy. "I don't remember doing any chasing, Strawberry."

He scowls and pinches one of her butt cheeks through her hakama. "I'm serious, Midget. It's been 124 years. You can't tell me there's anything keeping us from being together anymore. You've seen the reincarnation of Inoue and Ishida. They are both getting their happy ending. I don't see why we can't."

Rukia sighs before she places feathery kisses on his jaw, smirking as his breath hitches at the gesture. "And if we don't? What are you going to do about it? Throw a tantrum like you always do and crash the Seireitei again?"

The hero lets out a low chuckle and bends down to nuzzle her neck. "I don't think I need to do any crashing this time. I'm pretty sure the entire Soul Society is rooting for me," he replies, his lips nip at her ear before they descend farther to nibble the skin beneath her jaw.

Suppressing a moan, the heroine bites her lower lip as her fingers travel up her partner's scalp, massaging gently the spots behind his ears.

Ichigo grunts, tugging her skin between his lips, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

Rukia gasps. "Cocky bastard."

He lifts his head from her neck and brings his face close to hers, their lips only a breath apart. "Rukia," he whispers, sending a shiver down her spine. "No more messing with fate, please."

Her eyes glisten as they stare into his with the emotions she has long buried away deep within her. "Yeah," she breathes with a smile. "None of that anymore, Ichigo."

With that, their lips close the distance between them, sealing their fate for all eternity.

Even though time passes, this bond will never break.

There you go. It's finally done. Over 50,000 words and 19 chapters in less than a month. I think I might sign up for NaNoWriMo this year. Haha...

Before I proceed, let me just run you through the timeline (my timeline, that is) for the events that are significant to this fic:

1855 – Rukia is born

1985 – Ichigo is born

2000 – Ichigo meets Rukia

2003 – Yhwach ends

2013 – First reunion (the 686 nightmare)

2050 – Orihime dies

2051 – Ichigo (66) moves to Soul Society

2075 – Last human comrade (90) dies – can be Chad or Uryuu

2175 – Rukia is 320

When I planned this chapter a couple of weeks ago, I wanted Ichigo and Rukia to end up coming back to Karakura where they first started. And I wanted a closure for our secondary OTP (not sure about you, but IshiHime has always been the other pairing I shipped) as well. With that closure, it helps Rukia to move on and allows her to give herself and Ichigo the opportunity to get back together and seal their fate. Even though they're in the human world, I also wanted them to be in their shinigami form when that happens.

There's this... I don't know how to describe this feeling. I mean... I'm finally done! It wasn't easy. Throughout the fic I was going back and forth between getting pissed at Kubo for the shitty ending and getting all emotional when I thought of the chapters and episodes before the Thousand-Year Blood War happened. This chapter alone was a struggle because I kept seeing posts about how there were already hints on the canon pairing way before it ended. I had to play all the opening songs for the anime to bring myself back to the time when IchiRuki was so canon.

The fact that this shounen manga ends up being romanticised bothers me more than the pairings actually. Ichigo and Rukia don't have to end up marrying each other in the manga. They just have to end up as partners like how they started and as shinigami. They don't need kids to inherit their powers because we know each soul reaper has their own unique abilities. So there is no reason for any of them to start a family.

Anyway, I don't want to end this with another rant about the god-of-all-crap ending. It is already labelled a gag manga and no matter how sad that sounds (because BLEACH started out as one of the most awesome shounen manga), there's nothing we can do about it.

Here, I would like to thank all of you who have journeyed with me as I was writing this fic. Thank you for all the comments (both encouraging words and constructive criticism), the favourites, the follows, and the recommendation to other readers. The reviews did, in more ways than one, contribute to the development of this story. And I really appreciate all of your input. (Including the Origos' because yours gave me the determination to prove that the IR pairing is solid and valid.)

A shoutout to all of you who have reviewed:

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and all the anons and Guests.

To all IRers: I'm honoured to be on this part of the fandom with all of you. Our ship still sails. Keep the fics and arts coming.

A happy International IchiRuki Day to us all on 26 September!