Umbrella

So I wasn't going to have anymore chapters for this, but our creative writing teacher gave us this assignment where we had to take something we'd already written, and rewrite it in a different point of view, so I picked this. Hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, though having Shuuhei or Renji wouldn't be a bad thing at all drools

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Rukia POV

There he was, the same spot as always, staring at his mother's grave as if it was the only other thing in the world.

I think I'm the only one who's seen him in such a weakened state (except for when Urahara found him after Byakuya's attack). The emptiness in his eyes reminded me of how I felt after Kaien's death.

Kaien... God, it still hurts to think about him, even though I was able to free his soul after so many years.

But right now wasn't the time to think about that. Ichigo was the one who needed my help. Gathering my courage, I quietly walked the remaining few yards towards him, listening to the rain as it hit the vinyl shield above my head. When I finally reached his side, I found myself wising I wasn't so short- or that he wasn't so tall. I felt awkward standing there, trying to protect him from the falling water as well. His eyes, his sad, lonely eyes, flicked my way.

"If you keep coming out here on days like this, you're going to get sick," I told him.

He looked away again, giving no indication that he'd even heard me. Carefully, hesitantly, I laid a hand on his arm, trying to capture his attention once more.

"She wouldn't have blamed you."

He laughed, though there was no humor behind it. "It doesn't change the fact that it was my fault. If I hadn't seen Grand Fisher's lure, if I hadn't chased after it, she would be-"

For a moment, I saw red. I was so sick of his constant masochism regarding his mother's death. Quick as a flash, my leg flew out, foot connecting solidly with his shin. He fell in an almost comical way, looking completely shocked as he held onto his wounded appendage.

"What the hell, Rukia?! Why did you-"

"Shut up!" I yelled at him. "Just shut up!"

Only this man, this single orange-haired man, could throw my emotions into such utter chaos. Half the time, I didn't know if I wanted to kill him, kiss him, or tear out my hair in frustration. He took the weight off the world off of everyone's shoulders and threw it on his own back, piling it on top of his scarring past.

Trying to supress the whirlwind he had started in my heart and soul, I began to speak. "You keep going on about how it's your fault, and you keep blaming yourself. But you don't stop and think about how the rest of us feel! What do you think would have happened to the rest of your family if you hadn't been there to protect them when those Hollows attacked? And what about Tatsuki and Orihime? Both of them would have been killed if you hadn't come to the rescue! And what about..." I felt a lump form in my throat, making it impossible to speak unless I whispered. "What about me, Ichigo? If it hadn't been for you, I would have died that first night in the living world. Even if I had survived, Aizen would have found some way to kill me and get the Hogyoku."

I realized that I had turned away, and was even more surprised to feel tears collecting in my eyes. I forced myself to look up, if only to show him that it was alright for him to express his own pain.

"Stop blaming yourself, because you've saved so many others. Even though your mother died protecting you, it wasn't your fault she was killed. She was only doing what a mother does."

A wise man once said that if you plan on giving advice, you must first follow it yourself. Inhaling shakily, I braced myself, though I just couldn't look at him while I said it.

"There was someone that died because of me... a long time ago."

Unbidden, images of Kaien flashed through my mind. His wide grin as he tousled my hair and welcomed me to the thirteenth division. The anger and searing despair in his eyes when he found out that his wife had been killed. The screams that tore from his throat as the Hollow took over his body, forcing him to attack me. The sickening sound of my blade (which I had raised out of reflex) slicing through his flesh. The feel of his rapidly cooling hands embracing me as he whispered his thanks, happy that he wouldn't hurt any more of his fellow Soul Reapers. The sound of one final breath leaving his body. But it was his sister's voice that rang loudest in my ears, telling me that she already forgiven me for what had transpired that day.

"I blamed myself for years. But I've slowly been letting that guilt go. If I can do it, then so can you."

Pushing back all the hurt that had been reawakened, I met his eyes once more, holding out my hand. His own slipped over it, warm and alive. I helped him to his feet, holding the umbrella high once more.

"Thank you," he said softly.

I smiled warmly, feeling the slight fluttering in my stomach echoing in his spiritual pressure.

"Anytime."

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I really liked the way this turned out!