A/N: READ THE SECOND CHAPTER FIRST. IT IS A COMPANION INTRO TYPE THING TO THIS ONE SHOT.

This is what friends can mean to each other. Maybe not always, but enough.

For one of my best friends, Cryssi-nee-san, Blackvelvetband, whom I will not be seeing as much of this year.

A Constant Cycle

aka

The Handprints in the Rain

Ichigo stared dismally out of his window, wishing for the thousandth time that this wasn't the last of it.

The last of his freedom.

And wishing that he could actually do something with these last moments in which he still controlled his schedule.

It was raining outside.

And somehow he knew (or it might have been the fact that his hollow was complaining loudly through the door he had accidentally left ajar in his consciousness) that it was raining in his soul as well.

Zangetsu had been right, rain was a lonely and terrible thing. It made you feel as though the entire world was falling upon your shoulders and that there was no way to lift that heavy weight.

Or, at least, that's how it felt to Ichigo.

"The rain is not what's bothering you, Ichigo."

It was as though all the mighty forces of the universe were conniving to push him down, to leech his soul of all resistance, so that they could manipulate him in the way they wanted.

And, as the rain slowly trickled down his windowpane, it seemed as though they had succeed.

Ichigo had no choice. He was leaving.

"The rain symbolizes pain and misery for you. But you know that rain brings new life, and so does misery and suffering. Pain isn't necessarily a bad thing. It helps you grow."

The rain began to pound, loud and hard, onto the roof, making him feel like he should be curled up in a ball and cowering from the might of nature. But Kurosaki Ichigo had never shied away from anything since the incident in the rain had permanently disillusioned him.

It is said that a child is like glass ready to be molded. A parent can shape a child to be a proper adult, but a parent can also do things to the clarity of the glass. They can either polish the glass so that the child will someday have a broad-minded, unobstructed view of the world, or they will leave handprints representing their beliefs. Every parent, even other people with influence, leaves some handprints that hinder the sight of the child.

That day, the rain had washed away his mother's handprints; the ones that had blocked him from the reality of the dangers in his life.

He had been able to truly see for some time now. So he had had no choice, really.

"You know that rain is inevitable. It comes and it goes, the water flowing and rejoining, dissipating and evaporating before coming down again. So is the sadness we experience. It drains out of us to leave us in the company of others, but it always seeps back in. That is what rain is to you, Ichigo."

He knew of the menaces that lurked in his world and in the next. He could not turn his back and let people suffer needlessly because he was too selfish to help.

So he had consented to begin training in the Soul Society to become a Captain of the Gotei 13. He could stay summers in Karakura (he was still alive), but that was all.

He was leaving everything he knew behind, and too early.

"You know, I've always thought the rain beautiful. It reminds me of the summers in Mexico, when things weren't so complicated. I think it's also because rain can be cleansing. It can wash away the ills of our hearts and minds and the impurities of our skin. It can be a joyous, ever-living, ever-giving cycle."

He got up, fingering the paper in his hand. Of course they all knew he was leaving. But he didn't want to say goodbye. It seemed as though it was admittance that they'd never see each other again. Or even if they did, things would never be the same.

"Things change, Ichigo. We both know that. But rain is constant. It has no set pattern, it comes and goes freely, but it is always ready to begin again. That's what's nice about rain. You always know it's going to come again."

He looked down at the letter, realizing that he should probably finish reading it. So far it had done nothing but discuss his burden, not alleviating it as he had hoped. He picked up the few bags he had decided to bring with him and slung them over his shoulder.

A wry smile curled his lips. And they said you brought nothing with you when you entered heaven.

He trudged down the stairs, striving not to linger in his home. Of course he would miss his family—but he would visit them a few times. He had already taken care of his sisters: they'd be alright without him. And his father—well, at least he wouldn't be beaten up on a regular basis any more.

His thoughts wandered as he ran through the rain, attempting to ignore the coldness spreading through him and the numb feeling beginning to gnaw at his insides. He was almost to Urahara Shoten when he registered that the hand tucked securely in his pocket still clutched the letter.

He went into a small café and sat down. He stared at the paper for a moment, his hands suddenly shaking. He wasn't sure he wanted to read the rest.

He didn't want to stop hating the rain.

"A long time ago you told me that if I thought something was worth fighting for, then you would fight for it to. You showed me that I didn't have to struggle alone, and I've never let you struggle with anything alone since then.

I hope I've helped you with pain you've experienced in the past. I tried my best.

I just wanted you to know that the rain isn't exactly what it seems, and neither is what you've come to associate with it.

One thing that I've learned about rain is that the cycle is always there, constant and unbreakable. It waxes and wanes, like the moon, but it never fades.

So I've come to see the rain as something entirely different than your misery and pain.

The rain is like us, Ichigo. We'll always be here for each other, going on different paths like the water does when it reaches the earth, but someday rejoining and becoming part of the cycle again. Becoming stronger and better for those we've helped and for the suffering we have endured.

Together.

I'd never be able to say all this out loud. So keep this as a memory of the real beginning of our journey together: when we had to divide in order to continue our lives. Change is inevitable, but it can't break things like the cycle of the rain.

Chad."

Ichigo was still a bit stunned when he climbed into the basement of Urahara Shoten.

He wasn't at all surprised to see Chad there.

There wasn't much to be said, but both knew that the two of them would always understand each other.

And Ichigo knew that he could deal with the rain in his soul, or Zangetsu and his hollow could. There were new shelters to be found.

And he knew he'd never see the rain the same again.

It had once again washed away stains on the lens through which he viewed his world, and he could finally see something else there too.

Chad had left his handprint.

A cycle, as uneven as it might be, and however it might fluctuate and shift, has no end.

And once established, it cannot be broken.

A/N: I may add more friendship one shots if you request!

Review, or Rukia will draw Chappy on your ceiling!