Of course

Senbonzakura sweeps straight through his mask and severing what you would think to be its head. A deafening screech leaves your ears ringing for moments after its body surrenders to the purification and it dissolves into the air. Judging by the lack of Gates to Hell, you're certain that the soul you freed will reappear somewhere within Rukongai. Now isn't the time to find out the man behind that mask.

You sheathe your sword and take another chance glance at the moon in the sky. So much for a night of relaxing. Well, perhaps you weren't looking to relax, exactly, but you certainly didn't think you'd be putting yourself to work, either. You gather up the sliced haori, a part of you glad for 'Utsusemi' and its uses, even though you detest the person it came from.

As the wind blows, there's a foul smell in the air. You think nothing of it, simply the smell of a rotting soul that's nothing more than an empty shell. With a Shakkahou, you give him the burial he'd never get if you left him there and went back on your way home.

At first, you're unperturbed by the sounds of a woman calling after you. How many times have you been followed by a mysterious woman, many shinigami, who seem to know where you are headed before even you do? However, as that voice gets closer, your blood runs cold. You know that it's impossible, but you've always longed to hear it again.

It's foolishness, you tell yourself, refusing to stop, even when it feels as if there's a hand pulling on yours from behind, a heat that envelops you and makes your skin tingle with an excitement you didn't know you were capable of possessing after a battle with a hollow.

It makes you feel like Zaraki and you are more determined than ever to ignore it.

"Byakuya-sama..."

Your heart rate picks up.

"Byakuya-sama..."

Your breath hitches when a hand you know is not there slides up and around, grasping your kimono.

"Byakuya-sama."

That foul odor from before doubles and then fades into a beautiful scent like wandering in a field of flowers, nonexistent hands still grasping, your body reacting, wanting it and your mind far too gone to really care.

"You look pale, is something the matter?"

Before you can wave off the concern of the specter haunting you, the world swims under water, darkens and your heart feels as if it's just burst. You don't even feel the ground when it comes up to meet you.