AN: This is the final chapter. Vote on my page if you want there to be a second story which would take place in the current Soul Society. Thanks goes out to those of you who have supported me all the way and read my story, especially the reviewers who helped keep it alive. And with that I'll end this.


Chapter 14, Untitled

If it were night, the lack of light would be comfortable. If it were night, the stars would be a pleasant piercing gaze. And if it were night, regrets would flow endlessly till the ground collected a heavy puddle and absorbed the world's problems. But it wasn't night at all. A thick fog surrounded the area delivering huge grey clouds threatening to burst apart and send sheets of tears to the earth, or more specifically the service being held. And it began, the sky cried, its emotion dripped through the fog like bullets splattering on the grass and the people gathered together.

A deep voice droned over the crowd as they stood; staring down into the soil, rain collecting on the mahogany box below. No one had smiled this morning, and it was safe to assume no one would, for such a ceremony prohibits it. A part in life one wishes to never attend, a part of existence and the deadline of a timeline drawing to a close.

"It was too early." Silver eyes traveled to the clouds, lips parting for air, it was all suddenly suffocating. The whisper was unheard, but shared by the others. Soi couldn't watch as the booming voice concluded, meaning the earth would suddenly swallow that body whole. A heavy palm found its way to her shoulder, and she suddenly knew who it was. The taller woman remained silent, knowing the girl could use the comfort.

The rain fell harder into a soaking mess, blades collecting each drop with pleasure seeing as they had been deprived for a few days. A good majority of people left after that, for the shovels were at work completing the job, and there was no use catching a cold if they could avoid it, but Soi remained. She promised herself earlier she wouldn't cry which at this point seemed impossible. At least the rain would disguise it.

"How's yer head?"

"Perfect."

"So yer memory's back?"

"Every single page, but the final chapter was never finished."

"It's not the end you know."

"There's no such thing as a book without an author."

"Then help write it." Kukaku turned around, and headed in the direction of the car. Upon opening the door a black figure jumped out and bound across the field at a quick pace, landing at Soi's feet and rubbing against her pants. She looked down at the small kitten and picked it up, gently scratching its ears while a single tear burned a trail down her cheek. The cat opened its eyes and watched the stone before them, mesmerized. Finally they too left, passing the other markers and trees that lined the path out of the cemetery. "She's right you know. The story's just beginning."

Yoruichi Shihouin

1985-2008