Yes, this is my first fic in the Bleach fandom. My notes shall be posted in the bottom of the story. This story starts in a serious note, but it will have its humorous moments. For now, bear with it, please.

Disclaimer: When I go to Soul Society, I'll ask Tite Kubo to give it to me!

"What is your greatest fear?"

The question surprised the class room. They had never expected their teacher to be so bold in regards to the offending inquiry. I, however, anticipated it. How could I not? We had been in the morose topic of the Holocaust for quite a while. We had watched videos of survivors and their tales. Most of my classmates looked shocked or had been overcome with sudden pity and outrage, but I knew it was merely a front, and none of them felt the offense to humanity that had been done all those years ago. Alright, perhaps I am being somewhat cynical, but when one is around selfish teenagers that think they have better things to worry about, like relationships and rumors, you become like me.

Mr. Carlton surely expected an answer, as he went in order down the rows of students asking for their answers. Most of the people answered truthfully, with replies such as rejection, a wide variety of phobias, failure, humiliation, etc cetera. Some opted for more philosophical responses, such as uncertainty, the unknown, not knowing, and so on. Others, as there always will be, answered in lies or made in order to cover up their true fear. Our teacher did not call on them, knowing that they were the ones missing the purpose of the exercise, whatever purpose this was.

"Art?" the teacher voiced my name.

I felt my brow twitch with that nickname he had bestowed on me. No, my name is most certainly not Art. It is simply short of my middle name, Artemis. Mr. Carlton had actually robbed me of my much preferred nickname and soon everyone who knew me had followed suit. I sighed quietly; no matter how many times I tried to show my discomfort with the nickname, no one would ever notice my subtle signals. "Dying after my family," I supplied quietly but resolutely.

He seemed surprised; apparently he hadn't been expecting that answer from me. The whole class looked at me expectantly, as if I should explain myself. Unfortunately, the class had quite some time to spare, being one of the last ones to be called in and still not being even close to the ring of the bell. The two people behind me, Michael and Sam, did seem relieved of not having to answer their greatest weakness. I sighed once again; this period always seemed to draw that out from me.

"I want to die before anyone from my family does," I said in my soft voice.

Mr. Carlton raised a black eyebrow. "And what would make you want that?"

I struggled with my thoughts; how could I tell my classmates that I feared them dying because I knew that they would be lost forever? That there was no heaven or hell, no afterlife? How tell them that I had come to terms with my own death, but not with the deaths of my family members? My teacher took my silence as a refusal to answer, so he moved on to Michael.

The class was already used to my quietness. I think this was the time they had heard me speak the most, even if I uttered a grand total of two sentences. I went back into staring to space, barely listening to Mr. Carlton's explanation on why he asked our fears. I believe he said that he wanted us to imagine living our fears every single day for what seemed an endless amount of time, and the only apparent end was our death. Surely, this did not take into consideration my own fear, which was an eternal nightmare itself.

Everyone scurried out the door when the bell rang. I took my time in making sure my school bag was comfortable in my back before walking out the door and becoming one of those faceless people in the hallways. I was somewhat perturbed at my willingness to share my greatest weakness. I do not know what came over me; I could have lied easily, having the half-truth of death at the tip of my tongue. Maybe this was another thing to add to the list of things I considered myself weird for.

I frowned lightly as I noticed my little brother making a ruckus in the courtyard. That boy was my opposite in every sense of the letter. While I had managed to build a reputation that the da Costa were withdrawn people, Al had managed to destroy said reputation in the first week of school.

My steps were purposeful as I neared myself to the fighting boys. Apparently the coldness in my eyes seemed to be enough for both of them to stop. The other insolent boy left the scene, aware of my glare to his back. "Isa Alberto da Costa," I said in an inaudible voice that only he could hear, "what do you think you were doing?"

"B-Bea!" he yelped. "H-He was acting stupid after I beat his ass after a soccer match!" He seemed to notice that his explanations were not helping his cause as I felt my eyes get colder. "I only wanted to..."

The murmurs around us started, some disappointed that I had broken their little squabble meanwhile others in fear of what I was capable of. I turned around and narrowed my eyes at them, effectively making them disappear. I slapped the back of his head and muttered, "Idiot."

Al chuckled nervously, knowing that he had been saved from further embarrassment. I was quite annoyed, however, in still having to keep my brother from doing reckless things, even when we were both in high school. One would have thought he had finally matured, but no such luck. And it was up to me, his senior sister, to help him go through this mess that is called high school without much problems.

We walked together in silence, since our classrooms where in the same general direction. I noticed that Al was still somewhat stiff on his shoulders, obviously troubled by something. I nudged him in the ribs and said a little bit louder than usual, "What is it now?"

He muttered something incoherent, but I could make out of his sentence. "Called me Isa," I believe he said.

"Aah," I said in realization. "I apologize, I went a little bit too far."

He nodded, accepting my apology. He hated being called Isa, said he thought the name was too girly for his tastes and sounded like Isabelle. That is why he went by Al, and I felt obliged to call him like that. After all, he did not call me Art, and instead called me Bea, which came from my real first name, Beatrice. I must admit that having linguist parents did not help either of us. I was masterful in English, competent in Spanish, Italian, and Latin, and could hold my own in German and Japanese. Surely, I had an undesirable accent in the above languages, but it could not be helped. Al, on the other hand, knew only English, Spanish, and Italian, not bothering in studying more.

Al left my company as we reached his hallway. I went a little further down and went to my Calculus class, ready to stare into space in boredom. Oh arithmetic, the cause of my woe!

I was about to fall asleep to the drone of my teacher when a most infuriating sound disrupted the peace. Yet another fire drill this month. Couldn't the school already understand that if there was a real fire, everyone would run? Who would actually leave school in an orderly fashion, straight lines included, if the school was burning and black smoke was invading? I know for sure I would push people around, not caring if their faces were slammed in the lockers. I tried not to scoff and instead followed my classmates in an orderly file, going out to the school's parking lot.

The weather got chillier and I huddled in my jacket. There was light chatter around the parking lot, used to these drills and instead just waiting until they were called back. It was around that time that there was a scream, followed by many others and panic broke in the parking lot.

Somehow I seemed to find the reason. The big black entity that was a meter tall was surely intimidating. It had a mask covering what would seem its face, and it had a long serpentine body. I must admit its spiky tail scared me out of my wits. I found myself surrounded by an arachnid-looking monster, a little bit smaller than the serpentine one, but still as intimidating. I confess that this was not the first time I had seen such creature. When I was twelve I saw one of those creatures that looked more like a large human merged with a monster gorge on a hazy-looking man. I had gasped and ran away as much as my legs could carry me. After the incident, I had thought it had been my imagination since it never happened again, even though I felt that abysmal aura that surrounded them every once in a while. Clearly I was wrong in doubting their existence.

However, those monsters were not the reason why everyone was distressed.

Gunshots invaded my hearing. It was around that time that I realized why the student body was screaming: I could see five teenagers carrying weapons, and I could already smell the blood in the air. Without needing to think twice I ran, not away, but to find Al.

The monsters followed me at high speed, but they were content in eating other students that were around. I tried not to dwell on the gruesome image and continued trying to find my brother. I was lucky as I found him hidden between some cars, crouched with his head in his knees and his hands covering his ears.

"Al!" I yelled, positive that this was the highest my voice had ever gotten. He heard me and raised his fear-filled olive green eyes to meet my own crazed ones. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!" He shakily stood up and I grabbed his hand, dragging him farther away from the nearing gunshots. There was also the matter of those eerie monsters and those confused students that had chains attached to their hearts, but I paid no mind to them: no one else noticed them and I needed to get Al to safety.

The school's exit never seemed so far away. Al naturally was faster than me, his body used to sprinting, meanwhile I was struggling in not falling to my demise.

"Bea! Hurry up!" he yelled hysterically, seeing me linger behind. He ran beside my crouching form and tried to encourage me into moving. I was about to tell him to go on without me when I saw two boys catch him and bring him to the floor.

"Al!" I screamed. He struggled underneath the two boys, but a punch in the stomach quickly calmed him down. "You bastards!" I howled at them. I was about to throw myself at them when a mocking tut froze me.

"Boys, come here," said a commanding voice. The idiotic teens moved towards the voice of their leader, meanwhile I rushed towards my brother's stirring form. I crouched beside him until he stirred and raised his head, immediately going into a coughing fit.

My eyes narrowed at the three boys. "What do you want?" I demanded them, my voice not too loud to show hysteria, but loud enough to not be expected from me.

"Art, your brother is the reason why my own brother is thinking about suicide," he said bitterly.

Al stood up and I soon followed. I positioned myself in front of him and glared at our attackers. "And attacking him will make it better? Killing innocents will make it better?"

The nameless boy laughed cruelly. "Now don't think that that sorry excuse of a brother is the reason this is going on, Art. No, I won't tell you what it is, you don't deserve it." He turned to his accomplices and motioned them to leave, as not the entire school had finished evacuating. "I can tell you that killing him will make it better."

My blood ran cold, my cheeks drained of their color. I could only stare at him, dumbfounded, as if he had spoken in a language I did not know. "No," I whispered, fear laced in my voice. I felt Al shift behind me. "Please spare him."

He pointed his gun at me. "Move out of the way, Art. I want to kill your brother, not you."

I bowed my head, my long hair covering my face, making the action look like I was considering his offer. Instead I spoke rushed, hushed words that only my brother could hear, "Run as fast as you can, Isa Alberto da Costa. Run like in a soccer game and don't look back. Promise me this."

"No..." Al choked quietly. He laid his head against my back and I felt his body shake.

"Promise," I said forcefully.

Agonizing seconds ticked by, and I felt his nod and he moved away, although I could still hear his quiet sobs. I raised my head and met the eyes of my soon-to-be murderer. I would not let him make my greatest fear come true. Instead, I relished the fact that my wish had been granted without seeming suicidal. "Now!" I yelled, and I threw myself to our attacker. I made sure my struggle lasted, as I aimed for the attacker's gun, trying to buy Al as much time as I physically could.

However, the deafening roar of thunder shocked me more than what I expected. I was sent flying a couple of feet backwards, the hard concrete meeting my back and knocking the little air I had in me. I stared at him in shock as I felt an exploding pressure in my abdomen. I choked on my own blood, the coppery flavor leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

The frenzied boy towered over me, pointing his gun to my chest. My heart beat erratically and my body trembled in anticipation. The pressure in my abdomen was greater, and the pain left me lightheaded. "You're stupid," he informed me snidely. "I didn't want to kill you, but look at what you made me do. Did you seriously think that I wasn't gonna go for your brother? He can't leave this place alive, I'll make sure of that."

"You say... that my brother caused yours anguish... but by killing him you would only torture me more so... than this pain already does." I hated how weak and pitiful I must have probably looked uttering what seemed like my final words.

Realization dawned on his face. "You're so right, Art. Thanks for letting me kill you. That way, I'm positive that your brother will suffer."

A bullet was shot, the ear-splitting noise making me gasp more than the sharp pain in my chest. My breathing became harsh and blood trailed freely down my lips.

"But I'll make sure to find him too. Something tells me Al will be very upset if he finds out you died, Art. Adiós."

Darkness engulfed me. There was no pain, no sense, no thoughts... Nothing. It was death, blissful death, that I had wanted. Yet again I enjoyed the fact that I was right, that afterlife was a fairy-tale, and that God or any other being did not exist. This also made me feel better over my suicidal decision to save my brother. There was truly nothing, therefore it was better for him to continue living.

However, there was a disconcerting thought that was gnawing my mind, and I soon found out what it was.

I had a thought to begin with.

Does that mean that I am not dead? Could it possibly be that I am bedridden in a hospital and my family is eagerly awaiting my awakening? Without further ado, I tried opening my eyes, but it came out as a metaphorical term because I had no eyes to begin with.

I was alone with my thoughts.

An eternity or a second passed, I would never know. I felt a light envelop me. The experience is hard to describe, as it is quite impossible to feel light, but for now it must do. I felt warm, as if everything was making sense and I had figured something out, and again tried to open my eyes.

When I opened my eyes I was staring at myself in a pool of blood. Curiosity overtook me, and eventually I studied my limp body. My jacket had two reddened holes in them, one in the right part of my abdomen and the other one right on my left breast. My lifeless hazel eyes were greener than gold right now, which surprised me. The cadaver's long light golden brown hair was drenched in my blood. My mouth was somewhat open, with blood still dripping down my chin and into the ground. There was a peculiar chain situated in my chest that connected me to my corpse. Just as I was about to touch the chain, movement to my left caught my attention and I saw the retreating back of my attacker. Black rage filled me and before I could even move, one of the masked monsters I had seen attacked and devoured him.

I turned from the scene, disgusted. I was not as savage as to see the image of my murderer being eaten like a dog would gorge on a steak. I sighed and went to study the chain, feeling no danger from the monster now that I was dead. A small smile played on my lips; there was no way I was dead. This was all my imagination, of course, all of my memories from before my time of death replaying. Perhaps I was in a vegetative state, and once I woke up I would forget all of this.

I just needed to find a way to wake up.

The other monster sensed me. The arachnid beast neared me, growling slightly. I stood up and glared at the offending fiend, a frown on my lips. "So even in death must you continue to follow me," I told it quietly, even though I knew that it was no use. "You waste your breath, monster. You are just a figment of my imagination, and as soon as I try to control it, you will disappear."

"You shouldn't be talking to it," an unknown female voice chided me lightly. A short woman with the strangest black outfit appeared in front of me. She had short light brown hair and rectangular glasses. Unfortunately that is all I could see from my side vision, as she was standing in front of me. She was standing in front of me with a sword– no, a katana– and pointing it at the offending monster.

"What is it then?" I asked blithely. I was not going to grow nervous now. The woman looked skilled in how to handle her katana and had no intentions of harming me, therefore I could ask whatever I wished for.

"A Hollow," she answered as she perfected her stance. Before I could continue questioning her she launched herself at the Hollow, as she had called it.

The monster, however, decided to attack. It raised on of its eight legs and clashed with the katana. The woman jumped back and landed gracefully in the ground. She continued her assault, mainly consisting of downward slashes that would meet one of the Hollow's strong legs. However, the arachnid monster started growing tired. Soon, the woman slashed the Hollow's mask, the false face shattering into many pieces. The Hollow soon disappeared and in its wake was a boy around Al's age who looked abashed. I could see the woman give him an encouraging smile and tapped his forehead lightly with the back of the hilt. The boy glowed in a blue light for a second and soon disappeared.

I eyed the woman distrustfully. "Who are you?"

"Shirogane Mihane," she replied, turning around to face me. She looked a little offended, probably because I had demanded her name without introducing myself, but I disregarded it. This was my imagination. "You have quite a bit of reiryoku with you. What's your name?"

"Artemis da Costa," I answered curtly, not saying my first name. Her name sounded incredibly Japanese, and I soon remembered my manners in said language, even though we were speaking in English. "Shirogane-san," I murmured quietly as she approached me, sure that she was going to tap me in the forehead like she had done a while ago, "what are you?"

Mihane regarded me for a while, not speaking. It was around that time that she noticed the other Hollow. "I'll be back, Costa-san. Please wait here."

I watched as she quickly despatched of the snakelike Hollow with relative ease. Apparently the lack of limbs helped in the battle. She performed the ritual with the woman that appeared in the Hollow's stead and the woman disappeared.

The strange woman returned to me as she had promised. She had a relieved smile and her dark brown eyes were happy. "Now, Costa-san, to answer your question, I am a shinigami."

I mentally translated the term. "Shinigami?" I echoed. A death god. I started laughing. The mere thought of a shinigami sent my mind reeling, so I chortled. Out of all the things that I could have invented inside the confines of my mind, I had to live an experience with a type of god. Mihane eyed me warily and somewhat offended, and I tried calming myself. "I apologize, Shirogane-san, it was not my intention to laugh." I chuckled quietly, still amused. "However, this coma of mine is playing with me rather cruelly."

"Coma?" she repeated. "Costa-san, you're dead. You're in no coma."

I grew serious, but inwardly I was still laughing. "I would believe you, Shirogane-san, if I didn't know that all of this is preposterous. There is no way for death gods to exist; they defy logic. This must be an imaginative bout that I must be experiencing meanwhile I am confined in a hospital bed, either in coma or a vegetative state. As an atheist I do not believe in a god, therefore following that logic, I will not believe in a death god."

Mihane looked at me like if I had grown another head. "Costa-san? Ano... This is not your imagination."

I frowned at her and snapped quietly, "Of course you're going to tell me that. You must be some sort of guide in this magical adventure. I am sure that whoever has no consciousness for longs periods of time must imagine something, right? Fine, I shall play along, Shirogane-san, or Mind-san, in your game." The irony that my mind would start playing with death gods was not lost to me.

The shinigami got closer to me in hesitant steps. She was cautious of me, probably, as I just insulted her credibility. However, I wasn't going to act all prim and proper when this was some sort of adventure my pitiful mind had created to rid itself of boredom. "I have a request, Shirogane-san," I said quietly, remembering something.

"What is it?" she managed, although she looked annoyed at me.

"I have a brother. I am unsure if he is here in my mind or alive, so can I wake up for a small amount of time to see if he's alive?"

Maybe it was the tenderness in my voice or she was trying to mask her anger with a smile, but she looked at me sympathetically. "I feel a reiatsu similar to yours, probably your brother's. It is wavering, but he is fine."

I sighed in happiness. Even if this were my imagination, I wouldn't like to be in this false world if my brother was not alive, even if I was dead. "Thank you very much, Shirogane-san. I promise I'll behave in whatever adventure you have made up for me."

She chuckled and positioned the hilt of her katana close to my forehead. "Yes, when you graduate from the academy, seek me out, although you'll probably won't remember, so I'll look out for you. You're an interesting person, Costa-san. I hope we can meet again."

Before I could even ask what she meant, she tapped my forehead, and everything faded to black.

I should be forbidden from using my computer's keyboard. I have two unfinished stories in this archive (that I unfortunately lost my muse for, at least for now) and making a new story with Bleach was too much. The only characteristic I can claim from Bea is that I am an atheist as well. And, I have to admit that if I were in her situation, at least now, I would think that I was still alive as well.

This story will poke healthy fun at many things I've found peculiar in Bleach or anything concerning life, through Bea's perspective, of course. Not everything Bea says is something I personally feel and vice versa. If she gets annoying, please tell me, I'll leash her in.

I will also remind you that there'll be no real main character in this story, but if I had to guess who will make most appearances I would say Byakuya and Hitsugaya, hence the characters. These first chapters will be introductory with no major exposure to the shinigami. I'll move it along quickly to not bore you guys, but I really dislike Mary-sue speed (meet everyone immediately) but they will appear soon. PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE.

Comments, criticisms, or concerns are greatly appreciated.