Eleven: The Bouquet

A bouquet of red and white roses are a symbol of unity.

Toshiro couldn't revert back to who he was before. He was probably worse than he ever was, being colder, more discreet, and more irritable than ever before. No one, not even Matsumoto, could soften him up.

And that wasn't the only problem n itself. To Matsumoto, it told her that Toshiro had not yet moved on, and didn't seem to have any intention to, either. They relationship had been close, yes, but it had been two whole years already, and Toshiro hadn't let it go a bit. One could tell from the tears behind his eyes, taking glances to something under his desk, the dead roses in the corner of the rom, how often he continued to visit the Black Graveyard.

"I wonder if he fully accepts it," Matsumoto said to Renji one day, before taking a shot of sake from the counter in front of her.

"Huh? Accepts what?"

"You know, that Ichigo is dead..."

"Oh, yeah, that..." he mumbled, strumming his fingers along the counter. "Probably not, if he could, he'd be able to move on, at least. I mean, everyone that loses a lover in death is sad forever, but the ones that accept it can move on.."

Matsumoto nodded, pouring herself another shot and taking it immediately. "I don't know if he ever will, and that's a problem..."

"Yeah. He is acting like a bit of a brat, though, acting he is the only one with a loss out of this whole war. We lost thousands, everyone was effected one way or another, and some are still cheerful. Look at Yachiru; she lost Kenpachi and she's captain now, but she's as cheerful as ever."

"Yes, but what can we do to help Toshiro get over this? Nothing. He's just in that realm where no one could help him. Ichigo could, if he was alive, but he isn't. That's the biggest problem," and she drank down once more for the night.

It wasn't two days later when the same strawberry blonde bounced into her captain's office, and couldn't have been in a better mood. "Toshiro, Toshiro! Come quick!"

Her reply was the evil eye, but she hadn't planned on waiting, anyway. In one swift movement, Matsumto had picked Toshiro up, slung him over her shoulder, and had shunpoed out of the door.

Despite many cold threats to freeze Matsumoto, she wouldn't drop him no matter what he said or did. After a while, he gave up, and wasn't very happy about it.

"What are we going here?" he asked when she eventually dropped him at the gates of the Black Graveyard.

"You planned on coming here anyway, didn't you?"

"Later," he grumbled, turning around so he could leave. However, his lieutenant his grabbed his collar and pulled him inside the gate.

"Go say hi to your lover, captain," she pushed him up the hill. And sure enough there at the top was Kurosaki Ichigo, looking at his own grave, puzzled. Toshiro rubbed his eyes, Ichigo was still there. He pinched his side, and it hurt. This wasn't a piece of his own mind; Ichigo was really there.

He hadn't even realized that he was at the top of the hill until his arms were flung around Ichigo, tears that had been built up over the two years springing to his eyes. And like he had dreamed about so many times, Ichigo was there embracing him back.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to come back sooner, Toshiro," Ichigo apologized, stroking the white hair beneath him, one hand clutching a bouquet of red and white roses which was received by the captain's arms.

"It's fine," he was crying silently now. "Just don't you leave me again."

There, done with a happy ending, yuck. Hah, I'm a sucker for sad endings, so it was a little painful to write this.

Anyway, it's all done.

That you to all of my readers, reviewers, and those that subscribed to this story. It's done.