I don't own anything! Put away your lawyers, please!

Summary:
When you lose someone, you usually go through the five stages of grief… denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I think I'm stuck on the fourth one. IchiRuki; AU

Rating: M (For safety and possible situations)
Genre: Romance/ Hurt/Comfort/Drama

Inspiration: Inori~ You Raise Me Up by Lena Park, Because of You by Kelly Clarkson, and Saving Zoe by Alyson Noel, plus a lot of other stuff.

WARNINGS (PLEASE READ): Substance abuse, alcoholism, mentions of adult situations (but nothing too bad), and many other things. Don't like it, here's your chance to turn back.

Prologue:
Dear Diary…

There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity

-You Raise Me Up-

December 9, 2009
8:29 PM

Snow fell silently from the inky depths of which it blossomed.

I lay, unmoving, sprawled out on my bed, my navy blue fleece blanket covering half of my body, a little purple book in my hands. This is the price of a seventeen year old with more issues than you can imagine.

Dear diary… no. It's not gonna be one of those, 'And as fate pulls me into the stormy ocean known only as life…' no. It's not gonna roll that way. Uh-uh. I refuse. No matter how badly that quack therapist wants me to. I'm gonna do this my way. I thought to myself.

I tapped my pencil to my chin. Watching paint dry is more amusing than this. But, if it helps some people, why wouldn't it help me?

Oh, right… I'm not some people.

So, without further ado, I wrote.

And wrote. And thought.

I'm just gonna cut the crap and head straight to the point.

My life totally sucks.

…Okay, maybe that was a little far-fetched. I'm not usually so… angry. Of course I get angry; my nature is naturally short-tempered. It was just kicked into overdrive when Hisana died. Plane crash… what a shitty way to die.

She wasn't really a Kuchiki. Neither was I. That was her boyfriend's (Fiancé's) last name, but she wanted to be called that. I just thought it sounded cooler than our real name.

Rukia Kiyoshi. No. I didn't like it.

The only one who's ever gonna read this would be my therapist, Dr. Katsuki... maybe. But if it somehow ends up like Anne Frank's… well, then, I should just explain.

Hisana Kuchiki was my older sister by nine years. I'm seventeen now. She was twenty-three when she died. You do the math. I was pretty depressed the first year, and it all went downhill after I hit sixteen. That's when… well, that was when alcohol came into my life.

Not drugs, though. I'd never be that screwed. Not like Momo, anyway. Momo Hinamori was one of my closest friends since middle school. Heroin really screwed her up. And the worst part is her parents didn't even do anything until it was too late. She's not dead; she's just in too far deep for anything to help her. I'm not even so sure she wants help anymore. I'm usually surprised if I do see her at school.

Next up: Orihime Inoue. She's actually somebody worth calling a friend. And she's totally clean. I'm actually a little jealous. Her life must be so goddamned perfect that she doesn't need anything to numb her mind. Honor roll, rich family, breasts that would make any woman turn green with jealousy…

She's a goddess.

And me? I don't compare. Well… there is one trait I suppose I win over. I'm not as annoying. I love Inoue like a sister, don't get me wrong, but her voice is so… squeaky. It makes me want to punch her.

I blink, startled at the revelation. Maybe therapy is a good release for me.

Tatsuki Arisawa. What can I say? Almost as clean as Inoue… well, save for her staying in the slammer one night for assault. The bastard had it coming, though. Nobody grabbed Tatsuki's ass and lived to tell the tale.

Except him.

Dawn Hunter. My American-born best friend. She's pretty spotless, too. Actually, she's the normal one in our little group. Nice family… two brothers, and her dad. A 3.89 GPA and a middle-class Tokyo lifestyle. Nothing too extravagant.

And finally… family. I have a dad. He's… nice. But even after seventeen years, I barely know him. He tries to reach out, to get to know me, but I know it's only for the sake of my dead mother. Hisana's old boyfriend, Byakuya… I guess. He's quiet. Reserved. But really, he's like my brother.

I wished they had gotten married.

That's about all there is to know about me… for now.

Peace out. Rukia K.

I put the pencil down.

My name, as you might have already figured out, is Rukia Kuchiki. I'm seventeen (If you didn't read that part of my story already.). I have dark, liquid blue eyes (Courtesy of my mother's Italian family) and jet-black hair (Courtesy of my father's Japanese-Korean heritage.). I'm pretty good at swallowing my pride, and acting like nothing's wrong.

But, if you want the truth, everything's wrong.

I live in a world where death is a natural occurrence. A world where it's okay to go crazy with depression, with hurt, with loneliness. A world that merges dangerously with the normal, human world. With the worlds of people like Orihime and Dawn and Tatsuki.

But people like Momo and I… we come from that damned other world. The world inside our own minds. I can't say I'm not in it… I wouldn't be talking like this if I weren't. I'm just not in too far deep. Momo is. We lost her a long time ago.

Lost her to a place, she's not coming back from.

"Dead girl walking," Keigo Asano whispered warningly to one of his best friends, Ichigo Kurosaki. Ichigo raised a brow, looking at the girl Keigo was talking about.

"Hinamori? What's wrong with her?" Mizuiro nearly laughed. "It's been nearly a year and a half. You honestly don't know? Have you been living under a rock or something?" Ichigo snorted. "No, you know I don't get into gossip and school politics as much as you two do. What's wrong with her?"

Mizuiro's voice lowered an octave. "She just got back from rehab… again. Don't tell me you haven't heard about the real her yet." His eyes narrowed curiously. "Of course I know about her drinking problems…" Keigo shook his head, an incredulous look on his face. "Naw, not that! Her heroin problems."

"Heroin? She's…"

"Yep. It's a shame, too. She was honor roll before her brother died." Mizuiro shrugged, and walked to Chemistry, Keigo close behind.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. Momo? Really? Her brother died two years ago… and to think, most of us thought drinking was the worst of her problems.

"Hey, get your head out of the clouds." A playful voice said happily, although there was a hint of sleepiness. Ichigo turned, and half-smiled at the girl behind him. "Hey, Dawn." Dawn giggled softly. "Hey," She sang, and looked down the hall. Her brows knit together in a worried frown.

"I worry about that girl… she goes to school like, what, once a month, and dreads every minute of it." She sighed. "Maybe a few more trips to rehab will straighten her out." Dawn had been saying that forever. Maybe this, maybe that.

Maybe not.

"So… uh, what do you think, Ich?"

Ichigo shook his head. "I'd rather not say." I don't think a few more trips to rehabilitation will do much good.

Dawn nodded. "I understand. Tell Zuzu I said hey, and that I'd teach 'Rin that new soccer move on Friday, okay?" Dawn had a pretty tight relationship with Ichigo; they'd known each other since sixth grade. Of course she'd know Ichigo's little sisters, Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki. It didn't compare to Tatsuki and Ichigo's eight year friendship, though. Dawn coached Karin's soccer team occasionally, so they were pretty close, too.

"Will do, see you in English."

"Catch you later."

"Have you seen Rukia?" Orihime asked later in the day. Tatsuki shook her head.

"I was hoping you'd know."

Orihime looked down, staring intently at her shoes.

"…I'll call her later."

"Rukia, could you get the door?"

I was at home. My father didn't care, not really. I decided not to go to school one day, he just nods and calls the office before work. I don't stay home often, though. It's too boring. TV, I guess… but my friends are so much better. It's like our own little combination of Gossip Girl and Twilight, just no vampires.

Nobody falls in love, either.

"Sure, dad, why not?" I asked sarcastically. He gave me that helpless bachelor look. "Please? Could you just do it?" I attempted a real, true smile, and nodded. He smiled back. "Thank you, sweetie."

Pushing it… I thought with a growl. I opened the door. "Byakuya?" I looked at my sister's ex, confusion in my eyes. I hadn't talked to him since the day before Hisana died. He stood, clad in a white t-shirt, covered by a black jacket, and jeans. "Why… what are you doing here?"

He offered me a small, untrained smile. It was so obvious he'd barely done it before. I offered one of my own. "I… uh, I heard about your therapy sessions." I nodded numbly. "It already got to you? I only started last Monday."

He bit his lip. "Uh… Hisana, she left this at my apartment. I kept it after… you know. Didn't think anybody else would want it. But… all things considering… maybe you should take it. For good luck, or… I don't know." He handed me a small black book, bound by a purple ribbon.

Hisana's diary.

My mouth was dry. "T-thanks, Byakuya." I could feel the tears threatening to break through. I couldn't cry. Not here. Not now. Not when Byakuya Kuchiki was standing right there, in my doorway.

That would just be rude.

"I'll be going." He whispered, waving goodbye and walking away. I shut the door, and walked slowly to the kitchen. I sat down on the dining room table. My dad looked up at me, a confused and worried expression on his face. "Baby girl? Are you okay?"

I bit my lip, closed my eyes, buried my head in my arms, and sobbed twice.

I clutched the diary tight.

Her diary lay on my dresser, looking innocent.

I bit my lip. Should I? It would be an invasion of privacy. But I knew everything about Hisana Kuchiki. But, then, that would just make reading it pointless, right?

But what if she was hiding things?

I felt my hand reaching for it, vaguely. You raise me up by Lena Park stopped me dead in my tracks. I looked over, and blinked at my phone. I looked over at my alarm clock… only ten after four. School was over. I missed the whole day. Of course somebody would be calling me.

"Hello?" My voice was hoarse. I barely recognized it.

"Hey, Rukia! Where were you today? Everybody missed you!" You, Tatsuki, and Dawn missed me. Everybody else thought nothing of it. "Sorry," I apologized. "I was feeling… sick." I lied. I just didn't want to go.

"Oh …" Orihime sounded sympathetic. "That really sucks, you know? I heard a bug was being passed around… are you gonna be well enough to come back tomorrow?" She was buying it too easily.

"Maybe." Or maybe I'll wake up feeling even shittier tomorrow and kill myself. "I'll see. Either way, I'll talk to you tomorrow, kay?" Or maybe not. "Okay, I'll talk to you later. Bye!"

There was five stages of grieving, or so I've heard.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I think I'm stuck on number four.

I wonder if I will be… forever.

I think it's a little too short.

Hm… I think I may like this story. Rukia, a troubled teen who's haunted by her sister's death, and Ichigo, an orange-headed daredevil who might give her hope she had long-since lost.

Or maybe I'm just being weird. Review and please share!

-TMU