She stood above the castle, silently waiting for what was inevitable in her eyes. Her black robes flowed about her as she gazed upon the rubble with a white blade held lightly, but firmly in her grasp; and not even giving a sigh, she disappeared with a small whoosh.
The site was not something to admire. Amidst the destroyed stone of the castle, lay multitudes of bodies, their souls already taken care of by the others of her squad. She, however, had a more interesting duty to take care of.
She was Rukia Kuchiki, a member of the Gotei Thirteen, and Lieutenant to the thirteenth squad. Soul Society had been keeping a watchful eye on the more western parts of the world, sensing the political turmoil and the brewing of war within the wizarding community. Her captain directed her to patrol the area with a few of her squad members every few months, and it just so happens that her special instructions were directly correlated to the increasing number of souls appearing.
The petite-sized soul reaper knew that the shinigami held no hand in the matters of the material world, as it was to be resolved by those who were living, and not those that have passed. The consequences of war are always devastating, but for the members of the Gotei Thirteen, they knew to anticipate an influx of recently deceased. So when she happened upon a soul that was merely a fragment, she brought it to her superiors to analyze. After the Research and Development Institute of Division Twelve examined the soul fragment, Rukia was instructed to keep tabs on the rest of the soul fragments when they appeared.
As soul reapers, their duty is to safely escort the deceased by performing a soul burial, however, because the soul she found was fragmented, the burial cannot take place until all of the pieces have been collected. So it is with this information that the raven-haired shinigami watches over the proceedings today. The soul fragments have appeared with more frequency in the past few months, and as her duty permits, she has been waiting for this very moment.
She stands above the two dueling wizards impassively, merely waiting for the outcome. Though her face shows apathy, she is not indifferent to the events that occurred. She sees the fighting, sees the children that are struggling for their future, and she sees the men who so desperately follow a man with less than half his soul. The young opponent, that willingly and selflessly fights, brings a small smile to her face, reminding her of an idiot with brightly colored hair waiting back home for her. She sees the conviction and knows that the young man with his full soul, backed by many of his comrades, will never surrender. How could only a small piece of something that is meant to be whole, ever overcome the strength of the undivided?
It cannot.
And so she simply waits for what is to be inevitable, in her eyes. And when the time has come, she gives an unseen nod to the victors and waits for the last of the small fragments to come together. As the soul assembles, she can sense the inkiness and tar forming together, and she is not worried when she sees the form of a monster appearing in the space of the assembling soul. The small soul reaper knows of the deeds of this soul, and though she herself cannot pass judgment, it is not difficult to guess what will happen.
With a whisper and the release and swing of her blade, the gates of hell appear behind the monstrous form. She does not blink, nor does she turn away. She simply watches as the soul is grabbed by the hands of hell's gates and thrown into its darkest pits to lie there eternally. Rukia sheathes her blade and takes out a small device to relay the completion of her mission.
She takes a deep breath and exhales with a small smile.