A/N: I had this sad little scenario in my head and so I flushed it out and granted it freedom here.
It's quite short and not fleshed out, however I still hope it caught the mood. I'm looking forward to get some feedback from you, so don't miss to write a review. Thanks! :)
"Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man." - Friedrich Nietzsche.
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"They say you might still be able to hear me." He looked out of the window for the hundredth time since sitting on a chair next to the occupied bed at the Forth Division.
"But I'm… I'm afraid I'm not good at this." He shook his head and cleared his throat, frowning.
"I don't know what to say, Renji." His usually composed voice broke at the mentioning of his lieutenant's name. Yet again he searched for the answers, the implications and what it meant to him.
Lost in recurring thoughts, he hadn't noticed the other's spiritual energy until he heard the words spoken.
"Have faith, Kuchiki Taichou." Isane's gentle voice carried its typical warmth that in the cold aura of the room however faded before it had the chance to reach the Sixth Division Captain.
"I am positive that Unohana Taichou will find a way to bring him back." She timidly tugged at the hem of her uniform, visibly affected by the gloomy situation. She expected no answer. After all this time she knew the stoic man, she knew it would be imprudent to expect anything but professionalism and the characteristic coldness the Kuchiki heir maintained. Even though she was genuinely surprised when he showed up the first time after Abarai Renji was hospitalized. And even more so when she found him every morning sitting on the only chair in the room like an angel of death waiting for the inevitable end.
In the first days she greeted him kindly and changed her patient's bandages with the precision and aptitude common by a Forth Division member, knowing that starting a conversation with the Captain would be unquestionably one-sided. She had a vague guess how the man really felt towards his subordinate behind his stony mask, but kept it to herself. She could clearly see the deep care in his usually distant eyes when he observed her how she changed the tattooed man's dressings that covered almost his whole body, or the way he only watched him breathe. Once she witnessed how the Captain tentatively reached for Renji's shockingly red hair but withdrew his hand instantly when he noticed Isane's presence.
It was after a week when she left a few words drift like weightless mist into the stillness of the room and returned to her duties.
"Patients in a coma can still hear the people close to them. It helps them find their way back."
He had shown no reaction towards her, nonetheless Byakuya had actually considered her words. It took him many more days but then he decided to give it a try. When the words left his mouth, he instantly felt stupid to talk into nothingness, to get no reaction other than the steady breathing of the redhead. He was almost relieved when Kotetsu Fukutaichou entered the room and broke the eerie silence. Almost. Since it also meant she probably heard him finally give in and talk to his comatose Fukutaichou as she suggested. Without another word he left the side of his lieutenant and walked past the tall women. It was too frustrating to bear.
Days became weeks, weeks became months and the bandages around Renji's body vanished bit by bit, yet his condition remained unchanged. The Captain of the Forth Division felt obliged to state that there were very limited options left. The damage was too severe.
He wasn't one to beg; however nothing in the world could have prevented it as he took the once so strong, now limp and inanimate hand into his and pressed gently.
"Please, Renji." He swallowed the heavy lump building in his throat. His voice broke off.
"Please come back to me." A face that once remained entirely unfazed by any threat thrown at him, now distorted in despair.
The decision was made a few days later.
He would remember this day. He swore. He would save it deep within him and let it burn there like acid. Burn away any trace of emotion, leaving a nasty scar. A reminder to never hope, to never trust faith, for Renji never opened his eyes again. And thus, he sewed his bleeding heart with the cruel thread of fate.
He had to let go. Just as he had to let go of Hisana.
The whispered word, laden with agony was his last.
"Farewell."
