A/N: Hey all, this is Eula Marie back again with another, and what's probably my last, IchiRuki fic. I'm busy working on another epic fanfic in a completely different fandom, but I was so inspired by the recent manga chapter...I couldn't resist. Perhaps in the future there will be a follow up to this piece, but for now, enjoy and maybe a grab some tissue too.

I Remember

"...tell everyone...I give them my best."

~ Kuchiki Rukia, Bleach 423

In his dreams, he can still hear her voice.

It haunts him.

It breaks him.

It's only been a week - but to him, it feels as if an eternity has passed.

He wakes up with deep circles under his eyes and goes to sleep with an empty feeling in the pit of his chest. Every petite woman on the street is her. Every dark strand of hair billowing in the wind reminds him of those silken locks he used to secretly admire.

Even the new batch of violets Yuzu has begun to plant in the front yard make his jaw clench and his eyes darken when they shine just so in the sun.

He misses her. It's common knowledge to…oh, everyone.

The fact that life is moving right on long without her doesn't do much for his dour mood, either. And aside from a select few, no one even knows that she's gone. Or that she even existed in the first place.

The simple observation irks Ichigo to the point of utter madness most of the time, but then he remembers her last words to him and sucks it up.

He won't let her down. He refuses towallow in self pity.

So he goes back to school. He cheers at Karin's soccer practice. He goes out for burgers with his friends. He puts up with his father's increasingly aggravating antics. He pushes forward.

He's trying to give life his best.

Just like she always did.

Rukia would be pissed if he was doing anything less.

oOoOo

Months later, when the loneliness gets to be too much, he climbs up on the roof around midnight and lays back on the gray tiles, starting up at the millions of stars scattered across the sky. He places his arms behind his head and starts talking - blathering rather - about everything and nothing. As if she is right there listening to him.

In the back of his mind, he wonders if his father did anything similar to cope with losing Mom. But even as he talks out loud, inside he's constantly asking himself, does love ever truly outweigh the pain?

Then he feels a warm breeze flutter against his cheek and he just knows its her. The air around him is too cold, too frigid to produce that kind of heat; so it has to be. She's here.

He shuts his eyes as the warmth falls to his lips.

Ichigo smiles a little. "…I'd knew you'd be back," he mumbles into the darkness as fatigue starts to kick in. "I'm irresistible… you know it…midget…"

The heart-pounding warmth lingers against his skin for a minute or two, but in an instant, it's gone and the moment is over. His stomach drops and he tries to force back the sudden wave of bitterness that threatens to consume him.

His next words spill out almost desperately on their own.

"Wait! Don't go. Damn it, Rukia. I… I love you, you know that right?"

His body stills as he waits for some sort of response; a touch, a change in the air, something, but nothing happens. No one is there to answer him, to console him.

The bitterness creeps in anyway. He opens his hooded amber eyes and sits up, turning his head to the side. She's not there beside him. But he's certain that for a moment she was, and for now that has to be enough.

oOoOo

The years pass faster than he could have ever imagined, yet his memories of her, of them, still do not fade.

He sees her in everything. Her presence is everywhere: the air, the moon and stars, the laughter and tears at his class' graduation, the fireworks of summer… and of course, his undisturbed closet.

She will always be here with him, even if technically, she's not. Because shinigami powers or no, she gave him a sacred part of her being, and that unshakeable something that she imparted into his soul will always exist.

Always. Until the day he dies.

Yoruichi grins when she jokes about him being a masochist. And perhaps…in some weird, fucked up way he is. But no matter how much it may hurt, no matter how much her absence burns him inside, he refuses to just give in and forget.

He can't let go.

He's Ichigo fucking Kurosaki, for God's sake; he can take a little pain.

So if he wants to let his mind wander on occasion and reminisce about Rukia and her stupid Chappy jokes, and her stupid smug smiles whenever he'd say something utterly ridiculous… then God damn it, he was going to.

He'll forget when he wants to forget. If he ever does. And he's sure that he never will.

So on those days when he walks past that deserted looking candy store, and Urahara casually ask him if he wants to "buy some overpriced candy and maybe get some peace of mind while he's at it," Ichigo always gives him the same answer.

No thanks, I'm good.

He won't become the type of man who takes the easy way out. Not after all he's been through. Not after everything she's taught him. He won't give his memories away, even if it is easier to go on without them.

Ichigo is prepared to wait as long as he has to for the day he'll see her again. He knows it will come - maybe sooner, maybe later - but when it does, he wants to be able to look into her eyes and say, I remember.

oOoOo

"IC-HI-GOOOO! The car's ready, my boy! Move those lazy buns before we leave you!"

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down, old man!" Ichigo yells back from the top of the stairs, stomping over to his room.

It's nearly September by the time he's packing up his things for college. His dorm room is already furnished with all the major stuff: bed, dresser, clothes, etc. But he waits until the last minute to move the smaller keepsakes and such.

So now his room is empty - well, almost. There's still the lamp, and his old posters, the chair, his desk… but the space feels especially bare to him now.

It has for awhile.

Ichigo glances briefly over his shoulder, as if to ensure his privacy in this next matter, and kneels on the carpet in front of his closet. Her closet.

It's been nearly two years since he's dared to look in there, although he's not entirely surprised by what he finds.

A half-hearted chuckle escapes his lips when Rukia's horrible, art-scribble shows up on a folded piece of paper on the floor.

Typical, Rukia.

His hand slowly reaches out to grab it. His heart is pounding every second, so much his chest feels like its about to burst.

Ichigo quickly switches position and sits with the back of his hoodie pressed against the closet door. With a sharp inhale, he unfolds the creases and begins to read.

Ichigo,

I don't know when you'll find this letter. It

might be today, next week, next year. But all

that matters is that you do read it at some point.

During the past month you've been unconsc-

ious, I've had some time to think… and I still

don't even know how to phrase all the things

I want to say. But the one thing I have to tell

you first is, I'm sorry.

From the bottom of my… I'm so sorry, Ichigo.

You… I… you deserved more than this. So

much more. I wish I could have given you…

But Commander Yamamoto says things are

better this way. I don't particularly agree with

him, but then again, I don't want to make things

any harder on you than they already will be.

I think, when you do wake I probably still won't

have the faintest clue of what to say to you to

make any of this better. There's so many…

emotion and things battling inside of me right

now and I don't know what to make of any of them.

All I can do now is give you what I can. I know

you won't accept anything less.

So I will give you a promise. Seems like our

relationship is full of them, isn't it? But this one

is perhaps the most important yet, and one I

vow on my soul to keep.

When the time comes, when your time comes, I

will be waiting. I'll be there, Ichigo. No one else

but me - and maybe Renji if he decides to butt in.

I owe you this much at least. And I…well, you'll

see one day, won't you?

Say hello to your family for me. Make sure you

cherish them every minute of everyday. But I

guess I don't have to tell you that.

This is indeed farewell for us, Ichigo, but certainly

not for eternity. You've been… you've always been

true to who you are and I hope that never changes.

It's time for you to let our world go and enjoy your

human life. Live it to its fullest potential and savor

each day, for it can easily disappear before you realize

that it has slipped between your fingers.

Listen to me giving advice… Psh.

Until we meet again,

Kuchiki Rukia

P.S. I hope you don't mind that I smuggled Kon with me.

I wasn't sure of how much use he would be to you now and

Ukitake Taicho said it would be alright. The little hellion

is a pain, though. He's causing significantly more trouble

than he's worth, and I'm thinking of selling him back to

Urahara for a new Chappy pen, but he reminds me so much

of you…of earth… and … Ahem. Ah... I should go now before

I embarrass myself any further.

Know that I wish you well. Always.

- Rukia

Ichigo's gaze scans the last line of her letter several times over before his chin gradually lowers to his chest, his long fingers gripping the now crumpled note tightly in his hands. He bites hard into his lip so the damn tears prickling at his eyes won't fall.

"Ru…kia."

So there was hope. Someday, he really would get to see her again. Even if it was but for a moment. That's all Ichigo could ask for. That consolation was all he needed to pick himself up off the floor, wipe his face dry and face these new changes in his life with courage and his head held up.

When your time comes…I'll be waiting.

Ichigo stuffs the note in his pocket and brushes a hand though his grown-out locks. He shakes head, laughing lighter than he has in months.

"Ichigo, come on!" Karin barked, poking her head in his room not a second later. He meets his sister's irritated look with a goofy smile and her jaw drops. "The hell is wrongwith you?"

Ichigo scoffs at the obvious suspicion in her voice, and tugs on her ear in passing. "Nothing, sis. C'mon, let's go." He shoves both hands in his pockets and smirks once he gets to the door. "I call shotgun-"

Karin bolts past him before he can finish the sentence, running down the stairwell two steps at time. "Fat chance, big bro."

He chuckles again, clutching the note in his pocket a little tighter.

Thanks, Rukia.

oOoOo

Eleven years later, that day comes.

It's a beautiful Sunday in April. The weather is warm, the sky is a shockingly clear blue. Everything feels vibrant and alive - from the lush trees swaying in the breeze, to the fresh lilies on display in the florist's shop he walks past.

The Tokyo streets are crowded, but he doesn't really mind. He lives here now, downtown actually, in a huge, expensive flat he shares with no one but his pet fish.

His steps are sure and confident, his head bobs just slightly to the catchy beats of j-pop and alternative rock blaring from every other store lining the street.

He is stopped in his late afternoon stroll several times. People ask him for his autograph, they take pictures with him too. Some, (particularly the young women) even start crying when he asks them who their favorite character in his books is.

In a way, he's kind of… a celebrity. Apparently.

Ichigo Kurosaki, the author, is 28 years old with three back-to-back bestselling fiction novels that have sold over 20 million copies to date. His supernatural/adventure trilogy, "The Shinigami and I" are some of the most reads book in the country.

And to think, he used to hate writing.

Ichigo quickly maneuvers out of the growing crowd of fans and sneaks over to the next block. He speeds around a corner and stops to catch his breath, eyebrows furrowing when he catches sight of an adolescent kid engrossed halfway though his last book in the series: "Deathberry's End".

The situation is painfully ironic. But irony is the last thing on his mind right now, because the dorky kid isn't even paying attention to his surroundings. He's about to walk right into the damn street, and the light's not green yet, and there's a taxi speeding up the street…

He can't help but run after the imbecile and yell for him to stop.

"Hey, kid! Watch out!"

Maybe it's the hero in him. Maybe it's the man in him.

He's knows his strength is nowhere near what it used to be. Not like before when he had…powers.

But he's still going to try and save the kid, because that's just who he is.

So when he gets there just in time to push the kid out of the way, and he turns and sees those headlights shining right into his eyes, he finds himself oddly at peace.

For a long moment, the world goes entirely black. But he feels no pain. Just warmth. Freedom even.

He knows what's going to happen next and he's ready for it. He's been ready.

He has no regrets about his life; he loved his family, kept his friends close, made his little mark on the world, left some kind of legacy behind.

He's beaten up plenty of Karin's jealous ex-boyfriends, watched Yuzu marry a fairly decent guy from her cooking class, established a working relationship with his father that he could be proud of, been a groomsmen in Inoue and Uryuu's wedding, took a trip to Mexico with Chad and the gang for their ten-year class reunion…

Yeah, compared to most, his life was relatively short. But Ichigo is satisfied with it, because he gave it his very best. His all.

"...Ichigo...it's time..."

Ah, now this is what he's been waiting for.

Ichigo's eyes slowly creak open and a shimmering black butterfly crosses his vision.

He looks down and sees the chain attached to his chest. Part of him, a great part of him, is relieved.

"You don't look surprised, Ichigo," a soft voice says to his right.

He swallows hard, slowly turning to see the face he's longed for in his dreams for too long.

Rukia's brilliant, violet irises stare back at him as she kneels by his side.

Holy fuck, she's really here.

Still lying on his back, he lifts an arm to brush his finger along the porcelain skin underneath her eyes. He feels dampness there. Is she crying for him?

"Hey," he croaks, voice tight. "I remember you."

Rukia grasps his hand with her tiny fists, and presses her cheek against it. Oh yeah, she's definitely crying.

"Of course you do, idiot."

He opens his palm against her cheek and her soulful eyes bore into his. "Would it be horrible of me to say that I've been waiting for this day for a long time?"

Ichigo shakes his head, relishing in the feel of her skin against his. "No, because I have too," his gaze lowers to the zanpakuto at her hip. "How much time do we have?"

Rukia smiles at him. He swears it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.

Her left hand cradles his head while her other draws her sword and presses the hilt to his forehead.

It is then that he notices the atmosphere around them is completely white. The outside world is gone, it's just them.

He closes his eyes.

"We have eternity, Ichigo." she whispers.

He smiles a bit and moves his hand to settle around hers on the hilt. "Good. I was getting tired of waiting."

Rukia pauses then, briefly hesitating to perform the konso. Her breathing is heavy.

"Ichigo, you know I… I love…you too, right?"

His smile stretches into a smirk. "Yeah, I know."

Rukia chuckles, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Her hand quakes as she grips her sword…and then it begins.

For the second time in thirteen years, a sword is altering their lives. Their destiny. This time though, there's no barriers between them, nothing to hold them back from each other.

Everything has boiled up to this moment.

Ichigo's spirit begins to disappear before her eyes.

But even as his soul crosses over, he knows this is not the end. She knows it as well. They will meet again. No matter how long it takes for them to find each other.

And when they do… Byakuya had better stock up on the aspirin.