A/N: Hellooooo! Oh, how I've missed you all! (What do you mean it hasn't been that long? You lie! LOL) *ahem* Ok, on a serious note, I'm not so much back as I am on a break from my other writing (if that makes sense).

Now, as for the details about this fic: this is an idea that's been off and on in my head for a long time, and I finally decided to do something about it. However, since the basic inspiration struck before I had even touched the Fullbring arc, I am once again disregarding that storyline. But I think the summary will tell you all the rest that you need to know right away…so please enjoy!

Summary: Few things are more precious in life than a memory. Memories are influential in shaping a person at all stages of their life. Memories help to solidify feelings, opinions, and everything that guides how an individual sees the world around them. But what if those memories could be taken away?

This is the question that Ichigo finds himself facing with his newest opponent. He has no choice but to fight him – to defeat him; but defeating him also means certain loss. Victory over this new enemy could very well cost Ichigo nearly everyone he holds dear. For with his victory, comes their memory loss – their memory loss of him.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach in any way. I just enjoy playing with the characters from time to time!

Holding On

Chapter One: Sweet Halcyon

Orihime Inoue sighed softly as she stretched her fingers for a moment, her hands hovering over the glowing golden dome of her Souten Kisshun. She felt like she'd been sitting there for hours – and the truth was that she had absolutely no idea of the time. But it doesn't matter, she reminded herself firmly.

She was alone in the room, with the exception of her two unconscious companions, Uryuu Ishida and Yasutora Sado. The pair had been severely wounded in their most recent battle, and then Orihime hadn't been able to get to them right away, so their wounds had only gotten worse. But it had been necessary. Their wounds were bad, yes, but they would live; Ichigo, on the other hand, would not have had she tended to them first.

Unbidden, the image of him falling from the tower above Las Noches flashed through her mind, and Orihime sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn't like that, she told herself. And it doesn't matter, because he's alright now.

Her jaw locked and her eyes focused on the pair in front of her. You can't think about that now. Your friends need you. And she would heal them; she would heal every single scratch and bruise until they were in better condition than they had been when the battle had begun. It was the only way she could apologize to them for making them wait.

She was so intently focused on her task, deliberately shutting away the memories that were trying to spring forth, that she failed to notice as the door to the room slid carefully open. She even failed to register the settling of a familiar spiritual pressure as the figure quietly stepped inside.

But his voice, as it always did, slipped right past her focus and drew her full (if not slightly startled and embarrassed) attention.

"How are they doing?" Ichigo asked, keeping his voice low and gentle so as not to startle her unnecessarily. It was obvious that she hadn't realized he was there yet.

Orihime started, lifting her hands slightly as she swung her head to the side and blinked rapidly in an attempt to re-gather her thoughts. She managed not to cry out, which she was proud of herself for, and instead she offered him a reassuring smile and said, "They'll be fine. It'll probably be another hour or two before they're completely healed, but with any luck they'll be good as new before we have to fight again."

Ichigo inclined his head, his eyes shifting to his fallen comrades reflexively. It was easy to see the truth of her words; already they both looked better than they had the last time he'd seen them. But they did still have some significant healing ahead.

Returning his eyes, and his attention, to Orihime, he asked, "What about you?"

Again Orihime blinked at him for a long second, clearly trying to process his question. After a long moment she began waving her hands in front of her face, though her voice remained quiet as she insisted, "Oh, no, I'm fine! Really! It doesn't take hardly any energy at all for me to use my powers like this, don't worry!"

Ichigo didn't try to stop the scowl on his face from deepening as he looked at her. Her face and arms were still littered with bruises and scrapes, and the sight of the dried blood on her right forearm did nothing to ease his temper. She hadn't even been able to heal herself yet – and of course she'd refused Rukia's offer for help. And now, on top of that, weariness was beginning to set in around her eyes. It was obvious that she was tired.

"Orihime," Ichigo began carefully, trying to keep his frustration from his voice. He knew she would only mistake it as being directed at her, and that was the last thing he wanted. "You've been at this non-stop since the fight ended. We both know they'll keep healing while you rest; you should think about getting some sleep."

Orihime's expression morphed flawlessly into a stubborn pout, and her arms came to rest in her lap. Her eyes found an intriguing spot on the floor about half-way between them and she said, "I can't do that."

She offered nothing else. She wasn't sure how to articulate the rest, and even if she had found a way, she was sure it would only make him feel guiltier.

Ichigo bit back his curse of frustration, but he took a moment to find his next words. She needs to take care of herself, dammit! Releasing a heavy breath, Ichigo forced himself to switch gears and, with a brief glance back at his unconscious friends, he said, "Urahara has something to tell us. Do you want to hear it from him or have one of us repeat it to you later?"

"Oh," Orihime began, caught off-guard by the change in topic. She was honestly surprised he'd dropped his argument so easily. For a moment, she hesitated; she felt obligated to stay with their friends. But they weren't going to wake up any time soon, and she wanted to hear whatever it was that Mr. Urahara had discovered.

They'll understand, she finally decided. "I'll come," Orihime stated aloud, returning her gaze to Ichigo's and offering him another small smile.

Without another word she shifted and pushed to her feet. And even as it occurred to her that it had probably been a while since she'd been standing, she realized that one of her legs was very much asleep from the knee down.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Orihime felt herself wobble as she did her best not to fall on top of her Souten Kisshun. She attempted to hop sideways, but her angle was wrong, and even as she landed on her sleep-numbed foot she realized that she was already falling.

She threw her arms up and out, hands splayed in an effort to keep from smashing her nose against the floor, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. It was going to hurt, and it was going to be incredibly embarrassing. She already wished she'd opted not to go to the impromptu meeting.

And then her hands landed on something hard and sturdy, but this something was warm, and covered by a surprisingly inviting fabric. And, almost simultaneously, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, locking firmly around her and hauling her upright.

Orihime could barely breathe as she realized that she was nearly nose-to-shoulder with Ichigo Kurosaki.

From her current vantage point she could see only a little of his black shihakushou, and quite a lot of his tanned skin, as well as just a peek of his orange hair. She was staring at his collar and throat. Her hands were semi-awkwardly stuck between their bodies, pressed flat against his abdomen and confirming without a shadow of a doubt that his delicious-looking muscles were as solid as she'd always suspected.

And his arms were still wound tightly around her, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades and somewhat tangled in her long, auburn hair, and the other supporting the small of her back. His muscles were locked in place, and all of a sudden Orihime perfectly understood the meaning behind 'iron-clad grip'.

But his grip had nothing to do with her shortness of breath, or the strange feeling in her stomach, or even the bright red undoubtedly staining her cheeks.

Ichigo, for his part, was fighting back a blush of his own. And he was praying fervently that she didn't notice the rapid pounding of his heart, despite that she was pressed up against it. He had to swallow heavily before he could find enough of his voice to ask, "You okay?"

"Y-yes," Orihime stuttered, shifting her weight as his grip slowly loosened. "Sorry," she added softly.

When his grip was loose enough she reluctantly eased back, automatically returning her full weight to her legs. But before she could say another word she realized that her leg was still asleep – though now it was tingling and quickly becoming rather painful – and she instinctively threw herself forward again.

Ichigo's arms tightened around her once more, subsequently pulling her weight almost entirely off of her feet, and he was almost chuckling as he whispered, "Easy, Orihime. You don't want to hurt yourself."

"Eh heh," Orihime laughed self-consciously as she slid her hands up his chest slightly and curled them in the fabric of his shihakushou. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I'd been sitting so long."

"It's okay," Ichigo assured her even as he dragged in a breath and briefly squeezed his eyes shut.

After a moment Orihime dragged in a breath of her own and said, "I-I should probably try walking this off…."

"Not necessarily," Ichigo's hollow piped up with a snicker.

Grinding his teeth, Ichigo silently growled, "What woke you up this time?" Aloud, he said, "Just be careful. And feel free to lean on me."

"Yes," the hollow continued, ignoring Ichigo's question. "Lean heavily."

"Shut the hell up," Ichigo snapped.

Orihime shifted, dragging Ichigo's attention outward once more, and she said, "Okay."

Slowly, Ichigo once again lowered her back to her feet and loosened his grip. Her hands slid simultaneously down his chest slightly as she released his shihakushou and carefully tested her sleeping leg.

It was still tingling, and it was still sore, but the pain was nearly gone, and Orihime knew that as long as she was careful, she'd be able to walk just fine. Not that she particularly wanted to.

Ichigo tried not to be disappointed when Orihime pulled away from his arms, carefully and successfully balancing her weight on her own feet. Once he was sure that she wasn't going to fall, he let his arms drop back to his sides. The gesture made him feel strangely empty, but he shoved the thought aside. There was no point in dwelling on it.

After a moment, Orihime lifted her eyes back to his and smiled brightly. "I think I'm all better now," she declared.

His lips twitched at the corners and Ichigo nodded. "Let's go, then," he said as he turned and led the way to the still-open door. His lips curved just a bit more when he sensed Orihime fall immediately in line behind him.

Rukia and Renji were conspicuously absent from the gathering as Ichigo and Orihime settled at the large, round table a couple of minutes later.

Cocking her head slightly to the side, Orihime flicked her gaze between Ichigo and Urahara as she asked, "Where did Rukia and Renji go?"

Ichigo glanced at her as she spoke before turning a curious, naturally suspicious look to Urahara. He'd been about to ask the same question.

Kisuke Urahara waved his fan absently towards the bright-haired teens as he declared, "Oh, they went back to Soul Society to update the Soul Reapers on our progress! Don't worry about them, they should be back soon!"

Ichigo's trademark scowl was firmly in place as he asked pointedly, "What progress?"

Tessai silently set cups of steaming, freshly brewed tea in front of the teens before moving back and claiming his usual seat behind Urahara.

Urahara remained silent as Tessai moved, his calculating gaze carefully studying Orihime as she automatically wrapped her hands around her cup and lifted it to her nose. She inhaled deeply, her eyes falling shut as she breathed in the fragrance of the tea, before she carefully blew across the top to help it cool.

Urahara's gaze shifted, then, to Ichigo, who was sitting directly to Orihime's left. Ichigo was watching him with narrowed eyes, his patience clearly near its breaking point. The young Vizard's eyes narrowed even more when their gazes met, and Urahara sighed silently. It was time to begin.

"I did mention that I had made a discovery, didn't I?" Urahara asked rhetorically. As he spoke, he bowed his head and lifted his fan, shielding everything but his eyes from their view.

"What kind of discovery, Mr. Urahara?" Orihime asked easily as she shifted her trusting, curious eyes to him.

"Well," Urahara began, "it was surprisingly difficult to dig up any useful information on Junpei Katou. Despite the fact that, a long time ago, he was actually the Captain of Squad Seven, Soul Society's archival records of him were very limited. And, of course, his captaincy had come and gone before the creation of the Department of Research and Development."

Ichigo's hands curled into tight fists on the table top as he snapped, "We already know all that! Don't tell me your discovery was nothing!"

Orihime's hands tightened around her teacup as her eyes snapped to him at his outburst. She pulled her lip between her teeth silently. It didn't take a genius to figure out why he was upset; their friends had been hurt. And this man they were fighting – a former Captain – probably reminded him too much of Sousuke Aizen.

Kisuke waved his fan dismissively in Ichigo's direction as he almost-laughingly said, "Of course not! I wouldn't make a big deal of calling you in for something like that! I merely want you to appreciate all of the effort that went in to finding the information you're about to hear!"

Ichigo's fists tightened, but he locked his jaw and said nothing. Further argument would only delay the information he wanted to hear and he knew it.

Kisuke lowered the fan to the table, closing it with a simple flick of his thumb, and his exaggerated cheeriness vanished. "Katou's history is still largely unknown. However, with Yoruichi's assistance, I was able to discern the general nature of his zanpakutou's abilities. It seems that his zanpakutou has only one real power, which, for lack of a better term, we'll call 'Memory Erosion'."

"Memory Erosion…?" Orihime repeated slowly, her voice soft and confused. She absently set her mostly-full cup back on the table. That wasn't a phrase that made her feel comfortable.

Kisuke nodded somberly. "Yes. His zanpakutou is what I like to call a 'revenge type,' which, unsurprisingly, is incredibly rare. This 'Memory Erosion' technique only activates once the zanpakutou has been broken in battle. At the precise moment that the blade breaks – and, to be clear, I don't mean 'cracks' – it latches on to the opponent's spiritual pressure and pulls."

When Urahara paused, Ichigo asked, "What do you mean 'pulls'?"

His gaze landing on the table, the former Captain replied, "I admit I'm still unclear on the details. But it seems that the zanpakutou pulls that spiritual pressure out of, or away from, anyone and everyone that that person has been in contact with. When the spiritual pressure is removed, it is somehow replaced with lingering effects of the zanpakutou's, and this combination works to effectively erase the opponent from the memories of those individuals."

A long silence hung in the air as Ichigo's and Orihime's eyes widened.

At length, Orihime whispered, "I…don't understand. So, you're saying that Katou's zanpakutou can somehow erase its opponent from the memories of everyone they've ever interacted with?"

"Essentially, yes," Urahara replied with a short nod.

"But, that's impossible!" Orihime insisted as a lump settled in her throat. They'd already fought Katou twice – the more recent of those battles being the one that had nearly killed Ichigo and the others. And Ichigo had, of course, vowed to defeat him. But, if Mr. Urahara is right, and Ichigo does defeat him…that would mean that…we'll all…forget him!

She refused to believe it. They had seen plenty of impossible, terrifying, things in the last couple of years, but there was no way – no way – she could ever forget Ichigo.

"Unfortunately," Kisuke began carefully, lifting his gaze from the table, "Yoruichi and I have both found cases that prove it is quite possible."

"That doesn't make sense," Ichigo interrupted, eyes narrowed half in confusion and half in anger, "if he'd been defeated before, we wouldn't be having this problem!"

"Come now, Ichigo," Kisuke said, his exaggerated cheeriness briefly returning, "you and I both know that there's a difference between 'defeated' and 'dead'."

Ichigo's scowl deepened but he said nothing. Urahara was right. He had defeated plenty of opponents – most of whom he had not killed. And he knew perfectly well that a Soul Reaper's zanpakutou was restored once that Soul Reaper lost consciousness.

"But," Orihime began again, her voice indicating her obvious inability to accept this answer, "how could you have found any of this out, then?"

Kisuke answered easily, his tone somber once more. "Those individuals who have defeated Katou in the past are still alive – or, at least, three of them are. Yoruichi discovered the first two quite by accident, and they pointed us to the third. All three of them told us what happened."

He paused, glancing between the pair before he elaborated. "They still exist on paper. Their names are still listed in all the proper places, and a few of their peers even have passing memories of them – things like passing them in hallways, or having heard their names before. But, for example, the third man had a wife, a young son, and friends. His wife, and his friends, have no memory of him from before his victory over Katou, not beyond those simple examples I illustrated. Not even to this day."

After another pause, in which he watched both of their eyes widen and the faintest glimmer of tears shine, briefly, in Orihime's eyes, Kisuke continued. "However, this same man provided us with the realization that there are a couple of exceptions to Katou's ability. Blood relations retain all of their memories. In his case, his son – who's not so young anymore – still remembers his father. And, because of his son, he's able to maintain a relationship – strained though I'm sure it is – with his wife. Although they're not married anymore."

Ichigo's voice was tight and nearly unreadable as he asked, "And the other exception?"

Inclining his head, Kisuke replied, "This ability is also limited to the dimension it's in. For example, the same man had a friend on duty in the World of the Living when he defeated Katou. That friend, who of course has since returned to the Soul Society, still remembers him exactly as he should."

"How come there isn't more documentation about this?" Orihime asked suddenly, her fists clenched tightly in her lap beneath the table. "Why didn't those people who lost their memories say something? Wouldn't they have wondered about a gap like that?"

Kisuke shook his head slowly. "No. Yoruichi spoke with the wife I mentioned, asking her about that very thing. Apparently, when the memories are removed, the subconscious naturally fills in the blanks with the most reasonable substitution. If a memory is too heavily influenced by the person whose memory is removed, then the remaining fragments of the memory become faded and unclear. The sort of memory you look back on and realize you don't remember well at all."

For a long moment the room was filled only with a tense, heavy silence.

Ichigo glared at the table in front of him, his fists curled tightly on either side of his abandoned tea.

Orihime stared at her own tightly clenched fists, still hidden mostly beneath the table, though her eyes were unfocused and filled with unshed tears.

At length, Ichigo swallowed heavily and said, "So…when I defeat him, only my family will remember me? And anyone who's over in Soul Society?"

With a slow nod of his head, Kisuke replied, "Mostly, yes. Tessai and myself, along with the Vizards, will also remember you. These gigai that I designed for us are a bit more…special than ordinary gigai; I would be incredibly surprised if Katou's zanpakutou was able to reach us."

Ichigo forcibly unclenched his jaw as he asked, "Then can't you figure out a way to keep it from happening? I mean, I don't give a damn if my teachers forget about me, but I don't want to lose my friends like that!"

"In theory," Kisuke replied calmly, his gaze again switching between the pair, "I could do that. However I'll need time; time we may not have."

Voice nearly a growl, Ichigo said, "Then get on it."

Orihime's voice was barely a whisper as, without looking up, she asked, "Wh-what about me? Can't I just reject the memory loss somehow? I could go to the Soul Society until the fighting is over, and then come back and fix it all."

Kisuke watched as Ichigo began to relax at the idea, clearly thinking she had a point. With a silent sigh he said, "I'm afraid there's no guarantee that would work. This ability erases the memories…I wouldn't encourage you to put your faith in that plan."

Both teens had turned to look at him once again, but it was Ichigo who said, "But there's a chance, right?"

"Well," Kisuke began, hesitating slightly. He didn't want to give them false hope. At length, he finally replied, "Nothing's impossible, of course. It would certainly be worth a try." He didn't say what he knew they were all thinking.

If the plan failed, then at least Orihime would still remember Ichigo.

It was an option that both desperately needed to keep alive. Ichigo was the only one strong enough to beat their new enemy. But even Ichigo would hesitate with something like that on the line. Keeping his family wouldn't be enough; especially not with the near-guarantee of losing Orihime.

This time it was Orihime who broke the silence, her voice quiet and resigned, though surprisingly stable. She kept her eyes on her lap as she asked, "Mr. Tessai, can you please take over healing Chad and Uryuu? I can't heal them if I go to Soul Society, but they're not ready to heal on their own."

Tessai inclined his head. "Of course, Orihime," he replied.

Kisuke pushed to his feet, slipping his fan back into his sleeve as he declared, "Well, I'd better get the senkaimon ready, then. It'll take several minutes; I'll send Ururu to let you know when it's ready." Without another word, or a pause, Kisuke turned and swept from the room.

Easing to his feet almost immediately, Tessai said, "I'll take over the healing now."

Silence reigned in the room until the door slid solidly shut behind the large man and his footsteps had faded away.

"Orihime," Ichigo began after a moment, his voice tight and his eyes focused intently on the table.

Orihime's gaze automatically focused and her eyes lifted from her lap until they were studying the profile of the man beside her. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw was tight, and his scowl was practically carved into his mouth. But none of this surprised her.

Ichigo knew she was watching him, and he knew she was waiting for him to continue, so he forced the rest of the words past his lips. "I want you to leave for the Soul Society as soon as Urahara gets the senkaimon open."

There were a thousand things Orihime wanted to say, but she knew the time wasn't right. So she swallowed her reflexive argument – born more from her constant desire to be close to him than from any rational thought – and slowly nodded her head. "Alright."

"And I want you to stay there until I come to get you," Ichigo elaborated, still keeping his gaze locked onto the table. "No matter what reports you hear, do not come back without me."

Orihime's hands twisted the fabric of her skirt subconsciously. She had to swallow back her fear of what might happen to him – he probably would get hurt, and he certainly wouldn't come for her before his wounds were healed, but she was going to have to let that go this time.

Ichigo finally pulled his eyes from the table and turned to look at the girl sitting beside him. Their gazes met, and he silently pleaded with her to understand his reasoning as he said, "I promise I'll come back for you the moment this is over. But until then I need to know you're safe."

Offering him the best smile she could muster, Orihime fought back another round of tears and nodded. "I promise that I'll wait for you, as long as you keep your promise to come back for me." More importantly, her mind added, please promise to come back to me.

Ichigo's expression softened, though he wasn't quite able to manage a smile, and he inclined his head. "Deal," he said.

The slim line of tears in her eyes faded away as Shun'ou and Ayame returned to her, their mission having been taken over by Tessai. "I guess I should go downstairs, then, and wait for the senkaimon," Orihime said quietly. She wanted to stay longer – to stay beside Ichigo for a few more minutes – but time was of the essence.

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, unable to hold her gaze any longer. He was reluctant to let her leave his side already, but this time – more than any other – he needed to get her as far away from the fight as possible, as quickly as possible.

With a subconscious, self-motivating nod, Orihime released her skirt and shifted to push to her feet. She noticed, as she moved, that Ichigo was shifting as well. Maybe he'll walk me to the ladder? It was certainly possible, she supposed.

Neither were fully on their feet when an explosion rocked the shop, shaking the ground beneath them.

Orihime cried out, and for the second time in less than an hour she suddenly found herself held securely in Ichigo's arms. His grip was tighter this time, though still not painful, and this time Orihime's hands shifted and curled into the sides of his shihakushou. That explosion could only have meant one thing.

It was time to go.

Ichigo carefully set Orihime back on her feet and forced himself to release her. Now was not the time for lingering touches and long goodbyes.

"Ichigo," Orihime began, taking his cue and releasing his uniform even as she looked up, into his eyes.

His warm brown eyes had hardened with awareness of his upcoming battle, and glowed with his determination to win. And then they shifted from the wall behind them to her own eyes, and something new joined the emotions shining in their depths. Something vaguely familiar, and wholly unknown.

"Go, please," Ichigo instructed. He hated saying the words. Knowing what was at stake made even those simple words feel like the worst kind of farewell.

Orihime nodded and took a step back. "Please be careful," she said softly, her concern obvious. With a brief, reassuring, trusting smile she turned, then, and ran for the door that would take her to the back of the shop.

Ichigo watched her leave with mixed feelings.

It wasn't until the ground shook beneath his feet a second time, the echoing blast of the explosion sounding closer than before, that he was able to snap himself out of it. What am I thinking? She'll be fine. All I have to do is drag the fight out a few minutes; give her time to leave this dimension.

And, considering the damage he'd taken in the previous battle, that really shouldn't prove to be too difficult.

To Be Continued…

A/N: And just like that, the first chapter is over! I hope it wasn't too confusing (but if it felt that way, please try the next chapter before you ask questions – I'm hoping that these first two chapters will cover pretty much everything)! Please let me know what you're thinking so far, and obviously do go read chapter two!