Author's Note: Okay, I finally got the second part to Don't Forget written up, but do keep in mind that I don't intend on extending it any further as there isn't much I can think of for this. This will probably be a weak installment, since I whipped it up really fast in an attempt to please you all...and considering the fact that I wanted it to end in this part, I have to tweak some rules around - for instance, if I remember right, when a soul goes to Soul Society, they have no memories of their previous life...I think. Well, here, we'll just have to pretend that lucky Ichigo doesn't have that rule apply to him...for the sake of this fic dragging out any longer. I am also changing the rating of this fic to M to be on the safe side. Sorry about that, and enjoy!

Don't Forget...Part II?

by Open Casket Ceremony

"Taichou?"

Matsumoto peered into the office hesitantly, pulling the front doors open the slightest crack.

She didn't know what the hell Ichigo had been thinking when he had jumped into the traffic like he had. It had happened before she could stop him, but, after reluctantly performing a soul burial for the strawberry, who had been in a huge hurry to get to Soul Society, there was little more she could do than return to the Seireitei and see how her captain was doing.

"Taichou? You in there?"

She noticed a messy pile of discarded robes on the floor - and then, to its left, a pile of empty sake bottles.

Then she noticed movement from the couch. She could make out a tuft of white hair, someone else's hand, her captain's bare legs, the top of someone else's head. Oh, god. She didn't even want to know who the heck this other guy was. But, she did know that it was a sad, sad day when the child prodigy resorted to letting a subordinate fuck him in his beloved administrative office.

"Oh," she muttered darkly under her breath as if the currently occupied Hitsugaya was listening to her, realizing just what it was her captain was doing at the moment, "I see you're busy. I'll come back later, then."

She shut the door quietly, and slunk unhappily away.

"Let's just hope Ichigo-kun never sees something like this anytime soon."

Ichigo opened his eyes.

Blinking hard to clear his vision, he took in his surroundings.

He appeared to be in some kind of village. It was kind of cute, he thought, and by the looks of it, he guessed correctly that he was somewhere in the Rukongai. He looked around, vaguely remembering from his initial entrance into the Seireitei that the only way to get from the Rukongai into the court was from one of the gates, and no way in hell was he being blasted from some cannon again.

There were a lot of strangers around him - but he'd never get anywhere if went hunting for these gates himself.

"Excuse me," he tried lamely, hurrying to catch up with a man walking by, "Do you know where the closest gate is?"

The man stared at him blankly.

"You know," the strawberry urged, "A gate. Like, to get into the Seireitei with."

"What business do you have there with those pompous nobles?" he snorted.

"There's someone I need to see."

With a chuckle, the man strolled off, and by the looks of it, he pretty much found Ichigo to be a psycho.

His mouth hanging open, apalled at how rude some people could be, Ichigo let out an irritated huff of breath. Fine, if that prick wasn't going to help, then he'd have to ask someone more helpful, and much more polite.

Unfortunately, this did not go as planned. Every soul he attempted to ask met his request with a similar reaction, leaving him even more lost, confused, and just plain pissed off than he had been before.

"Oh, my...Are you lost, young man?"

Ichigo spun around, catching sight of who had addressed him.

Behind him stood an old woman several heads shorter than him, dressed neatly in a plain kimono, her white hair knotted in a bun and a calm smile on her aged, wrinkled face. Ichigo wanted to cry with happiness. After being treated with hostility by every soul he had encountered so far, finally - a friendly face.

"Yeah," he muttered sheepishly, "Yeah, I'm kind of lost."

"Well, why don't you come to my home for a while? I'll get you something to drink and perhaps a bite to eat until you calm down, and then we can figure things out."

"I-I'd love to!" Ichigo spluttered. That was just what he needed after a rough day - a quick break. And this old lady seemed trustworthy enough.

Feeling lighter, as if the burden had been taken partway off his shoulders, he followed her for a short distance before they arrived at a small, humble home constructed of wood, a pleasant garden in the front.

"You have a pretty nice house, ma'am," he commented.

With a smile, the old woman gestured for Ichigo to enter the house, and he did, ducking under the doorframe and stepping inside.

It was quiet, still, and cool indoors. It was a little eerie, and as he sat, the old woman who had brought him over was quick to offer him a steaming cup of tea, which he gratefully took and downed in little more than two large gulps.

"So, what did you say your name was, young man?"

"Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo."

"And where did you want to go?"

"To the Seireitei," Ichigo answered, placing the tea cup down. "There...Well, there's someone I really, really, really need to see."

"The Seireitei?" the woman repeated, appearing interested now as she, too, sipped her own tea. "I don't mean to be intrusive, but what is it that would bring you there? To all those nobles?"

"I know some people there," Ichigo muttered lamely. No way was he telling this stranger lady about Hitsugaya.

"I do too," the woman nodded, the sage smile still on her lips. "My grandson is a soul reaper."

"Really? That's cool, I guess."

"Yes," she smiled calmly, "He used to be such a nice boy...But then he turned from a child to a soldier almost overnight. I don't know much about what it is those soul reapers do, but I do know that at least, even if it has turned him colder, life for him is better there. They were able to turn him from my peasant grandson to something almost like a prince..." Her voice was prideful at this point, "And, that grandson of mine, he's quite the fighter. They made him into a captain."

"A captain...?"

"Yes," the old woman replied, the smile now gone, "But even captains have their weaknesses. Recently, my grandson lost someone close to him, and it's changed him even more. He came back here in tears a few weeks ago, but wouldn't tell me just what happened. And since then, he hasn't been back to visit." She sighed. "The duty of a soul reaper is a harsh one. My grandson has a fragile heart. He was never meant for a place like that."

"Well...that sucks."

"Perhaps you know him," she answered eagerly, "Would you like to see his photograph?"

"Sure," Ichigo answered with a small smile. He liked this old lady already.

Rising from her seat and hobbling to a nearby cabinet, the woman reached to its top, taking a framed photograph from its surface, shuffling back to Ichigo's side and placing the photograph on the table top in front of him.

Ichigo glanced at it, and nearly did a double take.

His jaw fell open.

"That's...That's..." he spluttered stupidly, opening and closing his mouth.

In the photograph was an unsmiling, white-haired, emerald-eyed boy.

"It's not too recent, but he hasn't changed much from then, appearance-wise...Do you know him?"

"Ma'am...Is your grandson...Is his name Hitsugaya Toshiro?"

"Why, yes, it is," she answered before eagerly asking, "Do you know him?"

"...Yeah. He's the one I need to see."

"Is that so? Well, it just so happens that my grandson is good friends with the West gatekeeper, so if you'll just come with me, I'm sure he'll let you in..."

"Thank you, Hitsugaya-taichou."

Hitsugaya did not look at the man speaking to him.

"You are excused," he answered stonily.

"Yes, sir."

He watched in silence as the man gathered his clothes, putting his robes back on. Hitsugaya did the same, slowly pulling on his kimono, clasping it shut around his body with his shaking hands.

The man gave the pale-faced captain a kiss on the forehead, and Hitsugaya didn't move, nor did his expression change in the slightest. He left the office without another word, leaving Hitsugaya sitting alone on the couch, a pile of crumpled garments next to him.

Not bothering to put on his hakama or haori, he pulled the kimono tighter around his body as he slowly rose, walking to the office restroom, turning the sink on and watching the cold water rush from the faucet. With a soft sigh, he splashed the icy water onto his face, rubbing at his temples.

He raised his head to look at his reflection in the mirror. The usually pale skin was even paler now, and his emerald eyes were dull. Dark bags hung under the heavy fringe of lashes, indicating that he hadn't had a good night's sleep, or too much to drink, or a combination of both over the past few days. He pursed his lips distastefully, the reflection doing the same.

With a sigh of self-disgust, he turned the sink off, heading back into his office and lying back down on the couch, closing his eyes.

He didn't know what had gotten into him.

He knew that he had been trying to force himself to forget Ichigo, and he hated himself for it.

The countless drinks brought him no relief, only pounding headaches and nausea. He didn't know how many times he woke up in the middle of the night, feeling sick to his stomach, and he had lost count of the times that, in turn, he had vomitted until he was too weak to move.

The countless men that he slept with brought him no pleasure. He would only lie there, naked and disgusted with himself, while he let whoever was willing to have their way with him, numb and unresponsive to their touch. There was no emotion to this. There was nothing and no one that could replace Ichigo, and he knew that, but he only tried harder to forget, had more drinks, and slept with more men.

He wasn't sure if he was doing this out of guilt or not, but whatever the case was, at least he was positive that Ichigo losing his shinigami powers had been entirely his fault. If he hadn't been so weak, then there would be no need for the ex-shinigami to come to his rescue.

Hitsugaya opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The boy let out another loud sigh that echoed around the deserted office.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself aloud.

It was very clear to his fellow shinigami by this point that he wasn't the same person he had been just a few weeks before. His outlook on life had changed completely, and he had become reckless. He knew what he was doing was no real solution to anything. All he was achieving, if anything at all, was letting his life go down the drain. He was destroying himself. His sanity, his social life, his job...all of it was hanging by a very fragile thread, and that was a fact he knew very well, but yet, he couldn't stop himself from this mindless, self-destructive drinking and sex and countless nights of being unable to sleep.

There was only one person that could save him from himself and that person was one who he was quite sure that he would never see again.

He was holding Hyorinmaru in his hands now, his fingers wrapped idly around its sheath. The tired hands slid across the midnight blue sheath before resting on the hilt, pulling the blade partway out.

"It doesn't matter," he assured himself, although with no resolution in his voice, "It doesn't matter."

Hitsugaya placed his fingers against the blade of the katana, pressing their tips downwards. His facial expression remained the same despite the sensitive flesh on his fingertips being sliced open as he pulled his fingers downwards against the cold steel. A drop of blood turned into a thin crimson line as it ran down his hands and wrists.

He lay on his couch like that for a while, he wasn't sure how long, blood on his hands, and completely still. Until the point that his fingers felt numb from being cut over and over again. This wasn't enough.

He wanted it to bleed. He wanted it to hurt.

The young captain slowly took his hands away from Hyorinmaru, raising his shaking hands and staring at his bleeding fingers, expressionless.

"It's not enough," he whispered, and he wasn't too sure himself what he meant by that.

He unsheathed Hyorinmaru all the way, his eyes moving from the hilt down to the tip of the blade. The metal shone in the dim light, seeming almost welcoming. He smiled, but not of happiness.

Slowly, his hands still shaking, Hitsugaya placed the katana against his left wrist. He stared at it intently, before slowly and painfully drawing the blade against the flesh. Pain shot through his arm, and he laughed coldly to himself.

The katana clattered to the floor and he let his arm drop to the side, hanging limply off the side of the couch. Blood dripped to the floor.

"It doesn't matter," he told himself aloud again.

He closed his eyes.

He wanted to just go to sleep and forget everything now. He breathed in slowly, then out again. He wondered grimly to himself how much longer he could go on living like this. Oddly, the eerie silence didn't bother him.

But the silence didn't last long.

He heard someone knocking at his door, softly, but urgently.

Hitsugaya wondered vaguely who it was. Matsumoto, perhaps? Or maybe another man looking to get laid. Either way, at this point, he was far from caring at all. Just let them come in, do their business, and leave.

"Come in," he said softly without opening his eyes, and doubted whoever was out there could hear him.

Apparently they did, because he could hear the door opening, and his visitor slowly walking in.

The sound of footsteps approached, getting louder and louder until they stopped. He heard the soft breathing, and then someone's warm hand wrapping around his own cold, bloody one.

"Let go," Hitsugaya managed to rasp out, his eyes still closed. "Don't touch me. Get out of my office."

"Toshiro...it's me."

Hitsugaya's breath caught in his throat. That voice...that voice was so familiar. He had been wanting to hear it for so long, but yet, hadn't been able to, and now, finally, it sounded so sweet to his ears. This had to be a dream.

He slowly opened his eyes, seeing dark chocolate eyes and bright orange hair through his hazed vision.

He didn't dare to believe this was really happening.

"Toshiro...Toshiro, wake up, please...."

"Kuro...Kurosaki?"

Hitsugaya blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, which was foggy with something he didn't know - exhaustion or tears?

Sure enough, there beside him knelt none other than the one-and-only Kurosaki Ichigo. His hold on Hitsugaya's hand tightened.

"Kurosaki...you're..."

"Shhh," Ichigo urged, his other hand reaching upwards to stroke the soft snowy locks, pushing his bangs out of his emerald eyes. "I know. I'm here now. It's really me. I...I'm here."

"How?"

"I just am."

Hitsugaya wanted desperately to burst into tears and throw himself into Ichigo's arms, but he couldn't. He was too weak, he barely even felt like he had the energy to move. Just talking was difficult enough in his current state.

"Why?" Ichigo whispered, his voice cracking, and his hand stroking his hair seemed almost frantic now. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Toshiro? This is my fault, isn't it?"

"No," Hitsugaya managed to answer, his voice painfully weak, "No, it's my own. If you hadn't come for me, you'd still have your powers...and we wouldn't be like this."

"Don't say that!" the strawberry answered, almost fiercely. "I saved you because I wanted to! That was my own choice!"

It was quiet as Hitsugaya struggled to sit up, Ichigo's hands shooting outwards instantly to support him.

Hitsugaya looked Ichigo directly in the eyes.

"My life...for your shinigami powers" he spoke slowly, "...Was it really worth it?"

"No," Ichigo whispered.

Hitsugaya stared at him for a moment, before looking away guiltily. "Then I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ichigo insisted, now holding both of Hitsugaya's hands in his own.

"Why is that?"

"I only said 'no' because it's worth so much more than that."

The End

Author's Note: I didn't like how this ended...and I'm very sorry you had to wait so long for such a crappy continuation. Also, another thing - I decided to continue, and hopefully finish, Hanging on the Edge. So I suppose you can be on the lookout for updates on that in the next week or so, sorry if you already forgot what went on there and if you have to do some re-reading!