Sacrifice
I don't mind letting myself be taken for their sakes. It's never bothered me. I could die for them and knowing that their lives continued would be enough. I just might die for them here.
But it's not right that Orihime looked so frightened. Her wide eyes were the last things I saw as the garganta closed. My decision had already been made, and my place is here, but her pale hand was stretched out towards me.
Now I'm tired. Really, really bone-deep, soul-deep tired. And when the sea of Arrancar come, the next wave in the mass crashing against me, I can no longer summon up the strength. They're gone, they're safe, and that's all that matters to me as I arc through the air. Zangetsu has slipped from my fingers, and I see nothing but the black sky.
*****
It's not surprising that I make out Aizen when I wake in the sterile white of Los Noches. He is furious, and I enjoy watching the rage without outlet pulse across his features. Things did not go well for him in Karakura, and here so many of the Espada are already gone. He is trapped. Laughter I don't bother to hide bubbles up within me; it seems as if I can no longer feel the gashes, the pulling of dried blood, the grating of broken bone.
I was wrong, though. He does have an outlet, and I try to feel afraid as the heat of his anger sweeps across my brokenness, but they are alive and well, and I have nothing at all to fear from this man who looks whole but is more ruined than my body. The blows mean nothing, more pain to ignore, and I can't help wondering if Mother's soul is here somewhere, like Kaien's body.
My mind can abandon my flesh, and the pain is laughable. Until he decides to take my mind as well, and I see them, carcasses torn and rotting, eyes unable even to stare at the sky through the fog that clouds them. And then I see Karin and Yuzu, captured, abused, the old man useless against the onslaught. The slew of images continues, but the tears on my cheeks cannot drown out the laughter clawing my throat at this lie. I am not some fool to believe the deceit of a defeated man so easily.
My body spasms when I am finally released and Aizen leaves. He is laughing now, but I can't hear his words. Tile fills my vision, but with a small, agonizing shift, I can see my feet. Where did my sandals go? As the new Arrancar enter, all I can wonder is when I lost them. They are touching me, but in a new way, and I know Rukia won't let me live it down if I can't find my damn shoes. Their grunting bodies keep coming, slick with sweat and other things. The light here is so cold. So white through the high window. And beyond this one, if I crane my neck a bit, I can see Zangetsu thrown carelessly on the tile by the entrance.
Pain. He thinks pain will break me, but there's very little of me left here anyway. What is left is so small, and hard, and I'm just dizzy and gasping through the tears. My uniform is in pieces, and the cold is more prominent when they leave, but it feels so much cleaner.
I don't hear him when he enters, but I can see the flash of blue out of the good eye I have been left. He, too, is limping, but when the sharp face swims into my view, his look is haughty, aloof. And again the blackness swallows me, but I can't be nonchalant as I was before and instead rush to it with relief.
*****
I am cleaner when I wake this time, and my injuries have been seen to in a rough manner. The white of Los Noches is present even behind my eyelids. The rough splatter of something breaking reaches my ears, and I open my eyes to see his hand clenching the remains of a smaller Arrancar's head. He is snarling, spitting, pacing in the small room, and the blood he has walked through dogs his steps. I can't help but ask why he is showing me this kindness. His eyes are wild and he brandishes a piece of skull at me in irritation. And I don't know why he thinks he owes me anything, but I am grateful as he bends to pick me up, and finally the cold of this place deserts me in the face of his warmth.
The dull pain of older wounds is faded by the sudden sharpness and my cheek stings as he digs a pattern into my flesh with his claw-like nail. Protesting doesn't matter, and I open my eyes again. He licks away the blood from his finger, and I am more preoccupied watching that tongue than with being offended he thinks I'm now his. Death should come soon enough anyway, here.
Time keeps passing, though, and the six that he has carved into my cheek protects me. No other Arrancar will touch me and Aizen does not wish to alienate one of his few remaining warriors of real skill for such a small thing. I was never his objective, simply a thing to be shattered in his wrath. I am truly small now, my power locked away from me, Zangetsu hidden. I follow meekly behind this man who has saved me, this man I once both surpassed and spared, and wait patiently for the day my head will be the one crushed in his palm.
His bidding is not so bad, though. His heat washes away the sterile tang of this place, and I prefer to stay close to him. This annoys him, and gives him some peculiar pleasure at the same time. And I do not mind so much when he touches me as the others did. The bone of his jaw scrapes my face as he presses angrily at my mouth, and his strength overwhelms my still-healing body, but his bed is warm and I sleep well against his chest.
I could even stay like this, watching Aizen weaken and scramble for what is left of his power, knowing my friends are safe, comfortable with this violent man and his odd moments of tenderness. Until I feel them again. They've come back, for me I presume, but they should've stayed away. And he is still growling at me, ripping the restraint on my power apart, shoving me away with Zangetsu in my hands, but I cannot help grabbing that blue hair with my returned strength, and pulling him towards me one last time.
The others have made it in, and Arrancar everywhere are panicked, lost. He guides me, still unsteady in my old power, to where they are. Aizen is there, screaming through the bright clashes of blades. His eyes meet mine furiously, and he knows of the betrayal. Grimmjow is yelling at me, eyes wide as I freeze in the path of Aizen's anger, the death I have been expecting so close. They can leave once I am gone, they can leave and be safe. He pushes me away and is swallowed in a flash of deadly red.
I hear the dull thud as the body falls, but I will not look, and the screaming inside me is building, and I do what I never thought I would do again. The horned creature bursts from my flesh in a burning flood, but I master it this time; I will not let it ride me. My purpose is too strong, and I will feel every sensation.
I will not taint Zangetsu with the thing in front of me, and he rings as he falls to the glassy tile again. Aizen's eyes widen and the fear tastes heavy on my tongue. My clawed hands dig into his flesh, and his screams are sweet as I dye this white place red.
*****
They still don't understand why I won't let Orihime remove the six from my cheek. They whisper as I clutch the singed lock of blue I took from his corpse, curling tight on my bed. They don't understand. I didn't keep them all safe. I could have lived apart from him, knowing he was well. I was meant to die for others, not the other way around.