A/N: Isn't breaking my own personal rules so cool? No, it is not. I hate the fact that I had to give in and write this.

Well. This is my first Bleach fanfic, and thus, I am adding to the general angsty-ness (not a word. I made it up.) of the series. Because I think Bleach is pretty angsty the further we get in the series.

Go me.

The truth was, he really didn't belong.

He wasn't human anymore, that much was sure and he just sometimes thought he regretted that part. How nice it would be to return to his normal life, without any knowledge of Shinigami, Hollows or the war that threatened to break out any moment. He missed the days when nobody depended on him, when he was able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, with no consequences other than being scolded by his sisters. He wished he'd never met Rukia... but that was only sometimes.

He wasn't Shinigami, either. Never truly was; he was just a substitute, somebody that did the dirty work when Rukia could not. He couldn't go to Soul Society and enter Seireitei at will. He was a powerful tool in the war with Aizen, and that was probably all he meant to the Shinigami. He didn't blame them; he was an outsider, he got his powers by accident and he should just be grateful that he and his friends

human friends

were left alive after wreaking so much chaos in Seireitei. He should just do what Commander General Yamamoto wanted from him, not a single protest leaving his lips. Fight, be a tool, become stronger to defeat everybody's enemies for them. Even if they didn't want anything to do with him other than that.

He was not even between a human and a Shinigami, because something else got added to the mix at one point in time and now, he was a blasphemous hybrid of three races, something that should not be allowed to walk the Earth. He was a Hollow, or maybe he was not. Because he didn't even fit there, with the Hollows, so different from their kind that he didn't even want to believe he had something to do with them.

But he had.

So, in truth, he didn't belong anywhere. The people that called him a friend couldn't understand. He didn't ever want them to understand. The loneliness of being so different hurt. Sometimes, when it was particularly tough, he wished it was all a dream he could wake up from. A dream, just a dream. He wanted to wake up to see it wasn't that bad.

That the Hollow in his mind was just a figment of his imagination. That he didn't have any super powers. That he could not see ghosts. That the Arrancar didn't target him and his friends.

That he had any friends to begin with... because Inoue, Ishida, even Chado, maybe, weren't what he needed. They depended on him. He just wanted to have somebody to depend on.

He didn't belong at home, with Isshin being loud and annoying as always, and his little sisters that were innocent and untainted, so unlike him. He didn't belong in the Soul Society, still alive, untrained and possibly dangerous. He didn't belong in Hueco Mundo, not one to devour wandering souls or other Hollows. He didn't even belong with the Vaizards, even if he ever wanted to. Nowhere.

He just wished he could find his place. He wished that just this once, somebody could save him. Because he had enough of saving others, making them realize their wrongs, killing Hollows and fighting Arrancars. He was getting tired.

So when Grimmjow told him he would kill him during one of the fights, Ichigo considered letting him.

Because, truthfully, he knew he would never really belong.