As it happens, it's time for the next Torque update. I was being an idiot and wiped all the files from my comp, which was completely uncalled for as I lost several of my other new chapters. Eh, what can you do other than rewrite them? Nothing, of course. I hope for some good writing this chapter, but it all depends on my mood, which is a little sucky. But sometimes being sad helps you to write better – that's what I've found. Anyway, um, I really hope you like this chapter. :D I dedicate it to my bestest friend, Amanda! She rocks, and writes for Naruto! Her first story ever is Kuro Tenshi, so get your ass over there and read it! REVIEW HER STORY! DO IT FER ME! xD seriously, though. She rules. :) I would so love to review again, but sadly enough, only one review ish allowed per chapter. How suck ass is that? Because, because, what if you forgot something? And you really wanted to say it? I am so rambling but at this point it does not matter. Also, Sehanort is the absolute god of YouTube. Go check out his Bleach and Code Geass spoofs. You will laugh your intestines out. I am totally cereal about that. In the mean time, if anyone has ideas for Torque, She's Like the Moon, or Paroxysm, lemme know. Paroxysm is my latest story, OC-fueled, and anyone can submit their OC. Make sure you ask me if the position you want is taken. If you don't want a Gotei 13 position, send me an Arrancar. I do have plot plans for them, yes. To end the longest author's note EVER, I will say this: only you can prevent wildfires.

Torque, an xSilverWingsx fanfic

You are, the only thing that's going through my head, while I'm waiting here, lying on my death bed.
–Color the Sky

Rukia glanced at her sweating glass of ginger ale, ebony brows crunched down in boredom. Her tight corset was pushing down on her bladder and making it difficult not to sprint to a bathroom, or a potted plant at the very least. Heat rolled off her body unpleasantly in this packed room, one in which she couldn't find a single person she knew. What am I doing here again? She asked herself sourly, pinching her lips together and placing her drink on the table with a resounding clank. Oh, right. I went because Renji went. This seemed asinine now that she thought about it, since Renji was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. The young Kuchiki neared the door and tried once again to spot one of her associates, but succeeded only in the case of Yachiru, who was jumping around in the corner for no apparent reason. Because she didn't feel like dabbling in a conversation that would rob her of energy, Rukia shoved open the door and stepped out into the night.

The air was crisp but not heavy, which suited her just fine. Rukia was glad to be free of that jam-packed room, so she pulled her hair out of the elaborately done updo that had been wound together by one of the Kuchiki stylists. Why did they need stylists, anyway? Byakuya was a man, and she was fairly tomboyish, so it seemed a moot point. But then again, Byakuya was fairly effeminate in his appearance. She sighed and wondered what her brother-in-law was doing at this moment, and settled on sleep. He must have a lot of naps to be so collected – it seemed that way in Akamori's case. Rukia speculated on where the dark-haired Third Seat was and remembered that she had also decided to attend the party, having been near the dessert table earlier in the evening. However, both she and Renji had disappeared shortly afterward.

She let out a breath and thought about Ichigo. He hadn't changed much, other than his appearance… which, she remembered, had strengthened. Rukia wasn't stupid, she knew that Ichigo was physically attractive, but it was just a fact that she was aware of, not a binding tie or anything. He'd always been that way, but back then it hadn't egged her on as much. It was most likely age, and despite her vast experiences with them, hormones affected Rukia Kuchiki as much as the next girl. Personality-wise, he seemed to have matured some, but still maintained that gung-ho perspective of the world. That was what she liked about him.

"Rukia-san," said a voice. Isane Kotetsu was standing about three feet away, and judging by her stance, she had been there the whole time. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yes, Isane-san," Rukia said with a good-natured smile, startled from being addressed so suddenly. "It could be a bit less crowded, but it is a nice party nonetheless." She didn't know the tall girl very well, but they had always been kind to each other in passing.

"I'd just like to go home," Isane muttered, her blue-gray eyes riddled with irritation. But then her attention was averted by a voice calling her name. "Ah, Kuchiki-san, I must go inside now. It was a nice talk." She smiled politely and walked back inside, shutting the door softly behind her.

Rukia felt slightly disappointed by the sudden lack of company. Nonetheless she sat down in a small chair next to the edge of the deck. This party was being held in the 1st Division's tea hall, and it was admittedly a place Rukia didn't like much. Yamamoto-genryusai tended to be somewhat snappish and rude to her, despite her intense amount of respect for the elderly man. She huffed out a breath and wondered if she would get caught sneaking off, or if she could get away with it. The petite young woman stood but then felt guilty about what she wanted to do and sat again.

Renji entered through the gate a few minutes later, looking a little inebriated but somewhat alert. "Hey, Rukia," he said with a sigh. "Are you having fun?"

"No," she said honestly, getting up to let him have her chair. "I don't think anyone is, save Yachiru. Where have you been this whole time?"

Renji sat. "I went with Kuromatsu for a drink. There's nothing good at this party," he declared, sounding a little annoyed. "I'm going to hit the road soon, she told me to come check on you. You don't have to be here, Kuchiki-taichou said you could come on home."

Rukia's lips bent into a blissful smile. "Good," she murmured. "I was getting sick of parties… but when are we going back to the Living World?"

Renji shrugged. "I dunno. Whenever Hitsugaya-taichou senses something weird, I think. Why? You miss Ichigo?" he wagged his eyebrows, and Rukia felt her mouth drop open in shock. Renji had typically avoided making allusions to her feelings toward Ichigo in the past, since back then she had known that Renji had had something of a crush on her. Now, though, he seemed totally comfortable with making fun of her personal life.

"Ichigo can get along perfectly well on his own," she said coolly, turning up her nose at him. "Besides, we both know you only went because of Kuromatsu."

Renji reddened. "Rukia, she is such a bitch, how could you say s-something like that?" he muttered, clearly humiliated. Renji worked hard to repose himself. "Well, anyway, um, I'm gonna go now. You?"

The adopted Kuchiki got to her feet in a flash. "Yes," she said, blinking.

Stupid fucking Ichigo and his merry band of Shinigami. Why the hell should dead people be such snobs? Karin Kurosaki thought waspishly, kicking her soccer ball along as she began the long walk home. They had lost to the Shinjuku Seagulls 13—0, so needless to say she was in a foul mood. Karin had been up late trying to console Isshin, who had erupted into a fit when he realized Ichigo wouldn't be able to try his fried octopus dinner. She had been late to the match and had even fallen asleep during half-time.

In her free time, Karin had been wondering about Toshiro. How had he grown so much? Probably artificial hormones or something, because Soul-wherever-he-came-from was pretty elite, according to the times she'd spend eavesdropping on Ichigo and Rukia. Had Rukia grown, too? Hopefully not. She might look slightly creepy tall.

"Shit!" Karin snapped as her soccer ball rolled across the knoll and into the Onose River. Luckily it was bobbing ostentatiously on the surface, and it was easy to pull out. She decided to carry it, being less than concerned of a few stains on her uniform. Karin huffed a sigh and kicked up dust on her way past the Onose, muddying her shoes. Hell, the day's not going to get better. Why bother? Karin thought morosely.

The sky was darkening, with small blooms of light still fluctuating on the horizon. Her eyes darkened as well at the sight of that—Isshin would notice the late hour and have some kind of panic attack. Though Yuzu was usually good at calming him down, she wasn't sure about today, since he was in just as foul a mood as she. The young Kurosaki murmured 'jeez' at the thought of what might happen when she entered the kitchen and continued down Nakasa Street.

Karin tried to see the positive side of things. Maybe Yuzu would take pity on her bad day and make aemono tonight. The boiled jellyfish confection made her stomach turn with hunger, and Karin only felt more deprived. She dropped the soccer ball to jam her hands in her pockets, continuing to kick it for exercise. I wonder when Ichigo's coming back from Hat 'n Clogs' Place. Karin had become taken with using Ichigo's old nickname for Urahara Kisuke, someone she found just as annoying as his young fiery-haired employee.

Karin thought about what she would do this weekend. The thought of visiting Toshiro and… what was her name… Matsumoto… floated in the back of her head. Toshiro was nice enough to be considered an acquaintance of hers, but not quite a friend. Friends had usually met each other more than twice. Though, it might be nice to have Toshiro as a friend. He was smart and obviously bullshit-immune like her, and he was a kickass soccer player. So befriending him went on her mind's to-do list. She passed the playground at which she sometimes hung out with Ururu. Her fellow black-haired girl was kind, but a little too gentle to be of any interest. She took offense to even the least playful of jibes, which Karin took to be a bore. Sometimes she found herself avoiding Ururu.

Eventually the Urahara Shoten came into view along with her street, something that met Karin's psyche with mixed feelings.

Karin blinked spastically at the strange feelings eclipsing her, as well as the bright light that was inhibiting her sight more and more with each passing second. Karin let out a gasp of dark surprise as she spotted the gigantic truck in front of her, and her body was not fast enough to register the fact that she was supposed to run. Karin was knocked down by the truck and crushed by its wheels, her mind wheeling out of control and her body numb from the waist down.

She lay on her back and could feel the burning, indescribable pain pulsing through her torso and head, which seemed oddly heavy and wet. Her heart pounded in her ears, a faint, moist sound, as she found her mind screaming. No! No, no no no. I did – no! Karin choked out her next breath and tried to angle herself to see her legs – and a sick, swooping sensation erupted in her stomach when she saw them. They were warped and bent in several perverse angles, one twisted so her foot touched her thigh.

It was getting very difficult to breathe. Karin felt like some sort of narrator, watching the scene. Her chest was flattened and oozing blood and other dark red matter. A few hundred yards away, a man was getting out of the truck, screaming, but her sight was so dizzy she couldn't see him. Was this what death felt like? Death, something everyone went through… Karin swallowed and felt her throat cloud with hot blood. Her head would not move. Piecing it together, she guessed that her spine was broken.

Oh, fuck! FUCK! There's no way I'm gonna get through this one! Karin remembered once when she was young, when she had broken her arm. The amount of pain she had endured then seemed comical now, like nothing.

"Oh, God…" the man said, tone riddled with incomprehensible guilt. "Shit, shit…'' he seemed to be debating on what to do, but his voice was fading.

Karin had a sick thought that maybe she was still asleep in her bedroom and this horrible day had all been a dream, and for a moment she believed herself. Any minute now… Yuzu would come in. Yuzu would come in, and then Isshin would make pancakes for breakfast. She would still be staying in her room with Yuzu, and Ichigo would be in high school again, and Rukia would live with them… and Masaki would be waiting by the door to give her a kiss goodbye. Everything would be back to normal, everything would be… Karin's brain seemed to be on its own now, separated from the burning and all the blazing blood. Ichigo would hit Isshin in the face, and Isshin would praise him for it. Rukia would be in the kitchen with Yuzu, making food in the shape of rabbits. Masaki would be laughing at her son and husband, and Karin would be there… she would be there…

She felt as though she was falling through a weightless, waterless ocean to some unknown precipice. Karin felt unexplainably peaceful about it all, and tried to see in her minds' eye, but it just wasn't happening. No.

And then…

It was sunny outside at the playground. The swings were moving back and forth slowly in the breeze, and a few kids giggled as they ran by. Karin raised her eyebrows – maybe she had been sleeping… and then she saw her hands, the transparent, fluid hands. She felt as if there were an underlying part of her now, one a little morbid and spectral. Oh, damn. I'm a ghost now. Well, that didn't take long.

Karin wondered what would happen now. Probably nothing. Maybe something. It all depended on the Shinigami, right? When would one perform a… uhm, change thing on her? Her hair felt like silk on her shoulders, which were light and weightless. She felt like floating – which she probably could, if she wanted to. Her soccer uniform was still on her frame, her undamaged body. This body had never met the truck. This body… was a new one.

She let out an amazingly wispy, clean breath. She was a Soul. It was an interesting thing to think about. No longer human, but not a Shinigami. Limbo. Karin stood there for a few moments, wondering what do with herself. And then it came to her. Dad and Ichigo can still see you. Dad and Ichigo are Shinigami. The prospect was practical, but very cliché and somehow unappealing to the newest Soul of Karakura Town. But she had to do what she had to do, right?

Karin lifted her new, feathery arm and rolled it around in its socket, feeling no pleasure nor pain from the stretch. Of course not, because this arm was new. The socket was new… and she was dead. Dead. It had a spooky air to it, and that didn't please her either. Kurosaki Karin was not one for drama. She took a cautious step and found her new gait nimble, muted from stress or clumsiness. She was lighter than air, soft as a bird, and would appear clear to anyone with the slightest reiatsu who saw her.

Kurosaki Karin found herself confused. She pondered Ichigo, and his face when he saw her. And then something hit her. If I go to Soul-whatever, maybe I can be a… no, they're jackasses. There's no way I'd wanna do that. But maybe it wasn't about Ichigo. She could impress others. Like Yuzu… her dad… and perhaps Toshiro…

We'll see, Karin told her inner mind.

A little fast-paced for my taste (and I'm sure your taste, as well) but the chap was fun to write, and I think I did okay. The next one should be better AND longer, I will make sure this happens myself, believe me. And I will personally reply to each review! I am not gonna be antisocial for once in my life! Yay socialness! (which isn't a word, but whatever). I'd really, really enjoy it if you review. Please, please, please. :D thanks for reading.

Nihongo Lesson!

NAMEKUJI – SLUG.
I only know this because in the latest Shinigami's Cup, Ichigo and Renji went to the Silver Dragonfly Sunglasses store. Ichigo's somehow inept at reading Japanese, so when asked by Renji which bug he thought wore sunglasses, Ichigo replied, "A SLUG!" (WTF?)

Bye! :D