Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

Erasing Scars

"Kuchiki-san..."

"What is it you want tell me Inoue? You should relax." Her words were sincere but they gave me no comfort. "I'm here for you."

Will you still be here after I confess? I- "Kurosaki-kun smiles a lot more now." Those words flow from my mouth easily, like a casual afterthought making its presence known.

Rukia's eyes widened at such a small statement. "Of course Ichigo smiles more, he has what he always wanted. He has his powers back."

She still couldn't see. He was happy now but his shinigami powers were not the only reason. Not the most important reason.

"Why are you crying Inoue?" A warm hand flutters across my cheek, thin silk fingers wiping away fat tears I wasn't aware of before. How weak I must seem, how young I must look.

"Because I made a mistake." I did, I did, I did! So many mistakes.

"I don't understand-" Her words are gentle, urging me to confess. For a moment I can believe she won't hate me. That she can never hate me. We are friends right?

I suck in a breath, my lungs tightening and my throat seizing. In warbled voice came the words, I dreaded to tell.

"I erased his scars."

xxx...xxx...

I kneeled on the ground, gazing at the mess that was Kurosaki-kun's torso. Blood pooled from his stomach that lay callously on the ground. He had almost died up against Aizen, so close. Too close. With the grace of a butterfly Sado-san laid Kurosaki-kun onto his back while Ishida-san parted his top. I rushed over creating my healing barrier, watching it wash over his body but even through the golden light I could see it all. The paleness of his face and vibrant blood that drowned his body. His eyes were looking elsewhere, far from me but close to her.

The hushed voices of more shinigami-san from behind. "He's in capable hands now." If Kurosaki-kun had been in capable hands, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have failed him. I wouldn't need to heal these mortal wounds. But I couldn't cry right now, he's bleeding and I need to fix it. I bend down, watching carefully as flesh mends and blood disappears, as if it had never bled out to begin with. His white bones are being sewn over by a fresh blanket of patchy muscle and his skin begins to spread over the wounds.

He had taken these wounds without hesitation for Kuchiki-san, for her life.

The blood that had been smeared over his skin like make-up was fading and out in the open ran thick white lines. Scars. Kurosaki-kun was only sixteen and he had scars as wide as my thumbs. His skin was sealed flawlessly, he wasn't in any danger but these scars were horrible. Mementos from those fierce battles he fought, both won and lost.

He was healed and yet I couldn't stop. They were a reminder and I wanted them gone. For Kurosaki-kun!

And so I concentrated hard, I tried to picture a photo of Kurosaki-kun, back to a time where his skin remained unblemished. Not riddled with crisscrossing lines. Let them fade, let them fade.

Please let them fade.

And as if by magic the lines were disappearing, leaving behind tan skin in their place. He turned his head and there was recognition in his amber eyes. As if he was only just noticing my existence now. It hurt. "You healed me again, Inoue."

I nodded moving back to my rear, giving him space to sit up. "Ah..." He was acknowledging me and I couldn't speak. I couldn't find the right words to say as he looked to me for answers.

He moved on to his knees, looking down at his open robes, noticing Zangetsu laying beside him in a whirl of white bandages. He ran a hand down his chest, looking for the wounds that should have been there. Oh no... He was looking for them.

Almost in wonder he gazed down at his chest, tracing patterns of where the white lines had once lay. "I healed them," I said quickly, shocked that the words had come out.

"Oh." His answer was simple but I could tell from the tone of his voice he was disappointed. Not in me but because they were gone. They had been trophies, proof of his existence. A reminder of how far he went to preserve Kuchiki-san's life. And they were gone, only memories remained.

He would never get them back.

xxx...xxx...

I could tell after a few months that the wound Kuchiki-san left with her absence, had scabbed over with cold indifference and feigned interest. That erasing those scars had been one of my biggest mistakes. He had no power, no connections and no scars. Nothing left to remember her by. Kurosaki-kun could have been happier, seeing them every day as nostalgic flashbacks would creep across his mind. Keeping those many scars and knowing he had earned them for her, knowing that their relationship had never ended. B-but once she walked out Kurosaki-kun had nothing left.

And yet a scar remained, so large and open that it could never be obscured by a school uniform.

He walked around with it every day for almost two years. "He never smiled when you were gone."

"That's probably not true," Rukia assured me, wiping away another tear. "Ichigo cares for everyone equally and you would be a silly fool to doubt that." She smiled with sympathy as she stroked my cheek , like a mother comforting a young daughter. I could see what he saw in her, these beautiful moments of care she showed only to those she loved. It made you feel special, remarkable when you were really nothing of value.

She didn't know him like I did, she didn't know Kurosaki-kun, the person he turned into when she was gone. When he had nothing left to live for, when he was living with a scar so deep I couldn't touch it. She didn't understand how irrevocably happy he became just seeing her face, how the scar died. How Kuchiki-san was irreplaceable.

"Are you going to leave again..." I ask and there's this look in her eyes that silently answers my question. "But you can't! NOT after all this!" I'm crying now, holding on to her summer-dress that Ishida-san had given to her when she first regrouped with her gigai. "You can't leave again, he's smiling again because of you!"

BECAUSE OF YOU!

Can't you see, what you hold in your hands?

"Ichigo has a life to live and I have my duties. At least this way, Ichigo will have something to entertain himself with until it is his time to pass on," Rukia answers solemnly, patting my head. "I must always leave at some point, I am not needed here." Here with us. "I'm sorry," her voice cracks and her own chest is heaving now.

"You can't leave us." Because if you do you'll leave another wound, one that will remain for the rest of Kurosaki-kun's life. One I could never hope to heal.