Summary: Masks upon our faces we danced, deceiving, lying, hurting until all that was left was this regret. In this shadow of a dream let us erase ourselves, and put down these empty smiles.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BLEACH OR ANYTHING IN IT….sadly

Note: Okay people, this is, in fact an OC fic. So before you start panicking and going OMFG AH! I OPENED AN OC FIC ITS SOOOO GONNA BE A MARY SUE! Please just give this a frickin' chance and READ it -.-

Flower of the chapter:

Shiragiku-White Chrysanthenum

means "Truth"

CHAPTER 1: Drown Me

They watched me, their eyes ever so calculative, so paranoid, silently watching—awaiting the summoning of the Soukyoku. With those pathetic, wavering eyes they watched, vultures upon a prey, gods upon insects. They were judging me, judging me like they had forgotten everything I had past done, all that mattered to these idiots was punishment and retribution.

I hated it.

I hated them all.

They were all pawns and were all too foolish—too blind to even realize it. They were dolls tugged and pulled by a horrid puppeteer who tugged at their strings mercilessly. They were utter fools, idiots. Being the loyal, dependent soldiers they were, they followed without question—without doubt. Foolhardy children in adult bodies they were, yearning to grasp the hand and gain the love of an unknown, invisible God, not aware that Satan was behind the mask of the sky.

Utterly pathetic.

Ha.

For some odd reason it seems as I am describing myself…I always have been a hypocrite. Such angst I drown myself in, such melodrama like a pathetic, acne-ridden adolescent. But, despite my accusing thoughts, I worry, worry that I was merely fooling my own self, accusing others to escape blame. What is reality and what is fantasy. Illusions have become all I know. That man had taken the simple ability to differentiate between mind and body away from me, and I loathe him so for it.

My heart continues to trouble me, asking if it had been worth it—what I had done… but, I can not answer. Whatever little resolve I had managed to grasp before has flown through weak fingertips. And now, I am left with naught but self-loathing along with so much regret that I feel as though I would crush beneath under the weight of it all. I feel…hopeless, and I hate it.

But…

Slowly, I could feel the calm returning, little by little, trying to stable my troubled mind.

Oh the irony! Here I am standing on the brink of death and yet, I should not weep like I should. I do not cry out for hopeless salvation. What has become of me? Where has my humanity gone?

I am a monster.

Do I not weep because I know he is watching? Even after all he has put me through, after all he has done…or, rather…not done, do I still care how he thinks of me? Oh how he has spun me into his detestable web, entwining me between his fingers, tangling me, suffocating me into oblivion. Such a pitiable creature I've become.

My eyes continued to watch him, as the three cubes filled with the Soukyoku's reiatsu lifted me into that wretched sky, but his eyes would not meet mine. But since when did he ever return my gaze, ever looked me in the eyes and told me the actual truth?

Did he care that I was going to die the death of criminal? Did it matter to him at all? Had it ever mattered to him? Had he ever cared?

No.

In an instant the Soukyoku was released. It blazed and burned, threatening in its form and promising a painful death it was the personification of justice, or so they say. The flames rose until it took the shape of a phoenix, grand messenger of the dear king who played God so wistfully beyond our lowly eyes.

In spite of my current position, I couldn't help but scoff, my spiteful personality coming into play. The irony just keeps coming.

Phoenix, the sign of rebirth, and yet, here it was to be the death of me. The representative of life was here to burn me to ashes, to cease my existence, and to end it all.

But it was too late now. For what I had lost in my few moments of hopelessness has been found.

My resolve.

I didn't want to die here, not anymore. I didn't want to die like a damned law breaking criminal. I wanted to live, I wanted to see him again and ask him all those questions I never had the chance to ask. I wanted to know if he cared. I wanted to know…so much.

I am in pain, I do have regrets, and my heart is burdened. There were so many things I never had the chance to tell him.

Sorry.

For all the trouble I caused, for the burden I've know I've been. I'm so sorry.

Thank you.

For all those times you times you picked me up and for at least pretending like you cared.

Sorry and thank you those were the two phrases that I would always hold inside of me.

But.

Of all the things I could have said as the Soukyoku came rushing at me…the only one that I could utter was the one word that he had taught me.

Bankai.

=-=-=-=-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I couldn't help but let out a sigh as I took a bit out of the muffin that lay in my hand. The latest thing I had stolen from that cheap ass Urahara. It had been one of those damned dreams again. It was always the same thing. Night after night I would wake up, bathed in cold sweat a scream echoing from my mouth, and I was honestly to get sick of it. Too many unanswered questions, too many stupid thoughts, it was rather annoying actually.

I bit into the painfully sweet dessert, chewing thoughtfully…Maybe I was being visited by a ghost who lived in my house and was trying to get someone to avenge her like in one of those kiddy cartoons!….no, that couldn't be it…or could it? I shook my head fiercely; hanging out with Orihime was starting to do things to me.

Chuckling at my stupidity, I turned to watch in amusement as none other than the busty airhead was toppled over as she was tackled down by Chizuru, the glasses wearing girl had groped Inoue…at least by the sound of the girl's scream as she was kicked over the head was promising.

Looking around the sea of students that were making there way towards Karakura High School, I couldn't help but spot that all too familiar tuff of orange hair that never failed to stick out like a sore thumb. Kurosaki Ichigo, whoop de doo. Maybe I'll be able to take out my irritation on him for once.

"Ichigo!".

"Yo." He said lifting his hand a bit in acknowledgement.

I frowned at the Carrot-head, resisting the urge to raise an eyebrow at the exhausted look that seemed to plaster itself to his already scrunched face, "Are you okay, Strawberry? You don't look so well."

Ichigo turned red at the nickname that I had gave him since we were little immature children who loved to pass time by picking our noses. "Yeah," he said, "Just didn't get much sleep last night is all." I nodded in understanding, not questioning him any further. That was probably why we got along so well. We never stuck each other's noses into the others business and we knew when to leave each other alone. It was a mutual understanding, besides, irritating the easily annoyed carrot head could happen any time.

At the sound of the bell, we slowly made our way to our home room, and poor Ichigo was attacked immediately upon entering 1-3. Keigo…whose face quickly met Ichigo's fist. I always silently wondered why the brunette bothered to attempt physical contact with Ichigo. Maybe he was a masochist of sorts…that was wrong, on so many different levels.

Ignoring the sulking idiot that he had cruelly abused, the carrot -head sat down in his seat obviously irritated. Sighing and smiling to myself, I hopped over Keigo's twitching body and on into the classroom.

"Eh, Ichigo have you heard? We're going to have a new student today!" Mizuiro shouted excitedly.

Ichigo frowned, "New student? I never heard anything about a new student."

I sat down in my assigned seat, listening half-heartedly. I couldn't say that school affairs particularly interested me since they usually involved nothing more than gossip, gossip, and more gossip.

Mizuiro nodded, "They say that she just turned in her application yesterday and the school accepted her immediately and actually allowed her to start attending today!"

I frowned, obviously confused. Even for a whacked out school like this one, that would never happen…right?

"Oh, so you're Kurosaki Ichigo." An annoyingly chipper voice chimed from behind the orange-haired teen. Ichigo eyes had widened in shock in a rather laughable, "WHOA WTF?!" way and whipped his head around to meet with most likely, the new student…and at that moment, Ichigo did a very un-cool un-Ichigo-ish thing.

He screamed. In a manly way mind you.

Startled, and somewhat frightened at the very out of character act, I found myself falling unceremoniously out of my chair, ass meeting the floor in a flourish of cloth and stings. Gee, what a very jolly morning.

"YOU!" Ichigo practically screamed, his finger pointing at something or someone.

I huffed, disgruntled by my sudden fall and followed Ichigo's finger—

"You must be Kuchiki Rukia, Kaien-nii speaks of you a lot."

Violet eyes turned to meet her own. The Noble bowed quickly, "Shiba-san."

Pain.

Utter pain. It was blinding.

My head was pounded, and my chest had tightened to the point where it was impossible to breathe. It was as if I was drowning, submerged into a fantasy that could not be mine.

"Tell me, Rukia-san, how are you doing? Kaien isn't pushing you too hard is he?

"No. I'm doing fine, it's not too hard. How about you Shiba-san?"

"I'm doing just fine too Rukia-san. My Taichou is rather nice to me, and please don't be so formal call me Yame---"

I had lost control of my body. My lungs won't breathe, my legs won't move, my heart won't beat. Pressure was all I felt, pressure so immense it felt like I would be crushed, flattened and forgotten.

"Nii-sama this is Y------- from third division-. The one I've been telling you about."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Kuchiki-taichou."

I was moaning now. My knees drawn to my chest, arms desperately clinging to my pounding head, fingers wrapping around strands of hair, pulling, tugging. Anything to relieve myself of this pain, because god damn it all, it hurt like hell.

"Yameru! Yameru, what's wrong?" It was Ichigo, stupid, stupid strawberry. I blame him for his stupid out-of-character ness, I'll remember to shoot him later.

There was a flutter of clothing and a small grunt and next thing I knew, the new girl was there, kneeling in front of me. She grabbed my chin, pushing my face up to meet hers.

It hurt.

=-=-=-=-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rukia could feel her eyes widened as the name rang though her head.

Yameru.

She pushed her way through the gathering crowd of students to where Ichigo was bent over. Pushing the mortal aside she reached for the agonized girl's face. With a hint of fear, she wrapped her fingers around her chin and lifted.

Silver Eyes

No.

This isn't possible.

Rukia dropped the girl's face and backed away, her own violet eyes were filled with a mixture of confusion and horror. "Yameru…" her voice was not more than a whisper.

The genius shinigami, who was supposedly executed over decades ago by the Soukyoku, Shiba Yameru, was sitting in front of her…alive and as a human.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

THANX FOR READING

HOLY CRAP, this chpter was HORRIBLE, well the next chapters will be definitely better so please do click "next" button (the review one wouldn't be so bad either .)

Uh, if it seems like Yameru is Mary Sue-ish in any way please tell me. Say how too, so I can fix it and stuff. Especially this chapter she seemed way to Sue-ish for comfort, but don't worry it's a one time thing.

I don't mind criticism at all, so don't be shy about pointing mistakes out--in fact I would rather you do so I can become a better writer.

Chapter 2: A look into the past, and the first time Shiba Yameru encounters Ichimaru Gin, a man who changed her life forever.