A/N: Whoa…this is definitely the first fanfic I've written in over three years. For that reason, please go easy on me :) This story actually ended up writing itself; I thought of the concept when thinking about which captain would end up dying in the Winter War (c'mon, you know one of them has to!).

I'm actually kind of surprised that I ended up writing a Soi Fon fanfic—not to mention a death-fic—since she's not exactly my favorite character (though I do love her a lot). I've also never written a slash (or partly slash) fic either. So...this will be interesting. Anyway, please review—any fellow writer can agree that reviews mean a lot, especially when you haven't written in ages :D Thanks for taking the time to read this, hopefully you'll enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. And I'm too lazy to come up with a catchy disclaimer.

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." –Norman Cousins

Soi Fon didn't know how to die.

In all her extensive training, in her self-disciplines and harsh doctrines of learning, she had never learned the art of death. It was an unknown. And Soi Fon never liked unknowns.

Was it to be done gracefully? Should she pass on quietly and calmly, accepting her fate as it sped towards her? Or should she go down fighting, all the way down?

Soi Fon prided herself on being knowledgeable on all things combat-related. As the leader of the stealth forces, she had sent countless others to their own graves. She had even entertained the thought that she understood death. But now, Soi Fon only knew one thing: she did not know how to die.

Is the world really this quiet when it ends?

Another frightening unknown. Soi Fon wondered whether the world was supposed to go this silent. Her increasingly blurry vision saw the world, and it looked the same. The shinigami and arrancar were still locked in a bloody carnage, both desperately trying to destroy the other. But there was no sound. It was as if she were watching a silent film, stuck on an endless loop of death and blood. The silence unsettled her, frightened her, even more so than the knowledge that her life was nearly over.

It was noble to die for someone else, right? Even when you hate that someone with every fiber of your being?

Thinking of him…made Soi Fon think of her. Would she…miss me? Then she realized that she was still flying through the air, the handle of the espada's zanpakuto protruding from her abdomen. Had only a few seconds passed? Truly? It felt like days. At least the pain was gone. At least, in one sense. Her heart twinged out even harder, as if the offending sword had plunged itself into it instead of her stomach.

Yoruichi…sama…

…will you miss me…?

"Soi Fon!"

I…hope not…

"SOI FON, NO!"

"Hey, Soi Fon!"

The stoic second-division captain turned around from her preparations, trying her best to appear nonchalant as she fought the rising thrill in her chest at the familiar voice.

"Y-yes, Yoruichi-sama?"

"Off by yourself again, Soi Fon? Honestly," the dark-skinned beauty said offhandedly, playing with a strand of long violet hair, "you're the same as always, taking life way too seriously. Do you ever take a break? You know, loosen up a bit? I mean, sure, we're preparing for war, but don't you think you do enough already? Maybe even too much? If the war is only a few days away, maybe it's time to take a break. After all, you—"

"I do not see how you can be so frivolous about this, Yoruichi-sama. There is so much to do still, and we are aware that Aizen's army is growing by the day. How can you act like this when there's a good chance we may all die—"

"Soi Fon." Yoruichi swiftly grabbed her shoulder and pulled her closer to herself, voice serious. Soi Fon felt the heat flush her pale cheeks as Yoruichi spoke again, her golden eyes hauntingly beautiful. "You may be correct. And if that is the case, I would not want to spend my last days in this world alone. I would want to spend them with the people that I love. Wouldn't you?"

"Yoruichi-sama…"

Yoruichi's face went from grim to carefree once more, her face splitting back into a wide grin, as she turned and loped off, probably to bother Ukitake some more. Soi Fon smiled softly, sadly, as her mistress' words echoed in her mind. It was almost enough to make Soi Fon forget who Yoruichi was talking about, and that the person wasn't her. "…the people that I love…"

"Yoruichi-sama, wait up!" She called suddenly, dashing to the side of the woman who so effortlessly consumed her mind and heart; Yoruichi's contagious smile having spread to her face as well. She was right, after all. She always was...

Blood spattered all over her face; she could smell it, feel it, taste it on her lips. But Soi Fon didn't mind the pain, which had just now begun to throb terribly. Yoruichi-sama hates messes…how disgusting I must look to her…

"SOI FON!"

There it was again, Soi Fon mused dully. The familiar voice, ringing out through the empty silence like a bullet, resounding in her ears incessantly.

Yoruichi…sama? Is that…you?

Soi Fon closed her eyes at the thought of her name. It was as if the world itself had shut off; leaving her blind and deaf, save for the grief-stricken shout that still echoed in her mind. All the images of the carnage that she had seen only seconds ago—Captain Hitsugaya attempting to ward off an attack from Ichimaru, his arm broken and bleeding; Aizen watching with glee as a heavyset espada tore the head off of a young seventh seat officer—were wiped blank, leaving her utterly alone.

But wasn't that how it was supposed to go, after all? Death was a lonely thing. Everyone dies alone, no matter who you are. It was a comforting thought, in a way; one that helped ease the pain that threatened to crush her very being, even before her gaping wounds did.

"Damn, that was some good sake."

Yoruichi grinned drunkenly, her dark cheeks flushed, as she stumbled home from the makeshift bar that Rangiku and Shunsui had set up in the middle of a human park. They had insisted that even in wartime it was important to have sake—for group bonding, they said. As if anyone didn't know that it was solely there to get themselves completely wasted.

Soi Fon hurried after the drunk female, embarrassed at the state her mistress was in. Though she knew Yoruichi would reprimand her for having such a view, Soi Fon couldn't shake the fear that Aizen would take advantage of the fact that nearly half of the Soul Society's forces were intoxicated at the moment. No, no, that's just you being negative as usual, she told herself sternly.

Besides, Yoruichi had been right. Though she had been hesitant at first—after all, she wasn't exactly someone who fraternized with others often—Soi Fon had enjoyed herself. Maybe it was the quiet beauty of the human parkwhere they had been, with multitudes of stars glimmering softly in the sky and the bright moon reflecting gently on the nearby pond. Or maybe it was something else entirely...Soi Fon closed her eyes, content to be alone with Yoruichi in the beautiful evening. Nothing could go wrong.

It was then that the screams began. And the explosions. And the death. Even ten miles away, Soi Fon could feel the reiatsu pulse that signaled the opening of the garganta.

It was as she had feared. Aizen's army had begun their invasion.

She was falling. And falling. And falling. And then…

A pair of toned, yet thin, arms was catching her. She could feel them on her bloodied skin. Could it be…

"Yo…yoruichi…" She managed to whisper, her voice hardly decipherable among the cries and shouts and released zanpakuto.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. Just hold on, Soi Fon. Don't move; I've got you."

"I can't…breathe."

"D-don't say that. You're g-going to be fine, okay? Okay?"

"…"

Will you be happier once I'm gone?

"Soi Fon, come with me. And stay by my side. Do you understand?"

"Hai, Yoruichi-sama."

The twin goddesses of flash sped from building to building, the wind cracking like a whip as they cut through air as if it were butter; not stopping to catch their breath. The unfolding battle was too brutal for such trivialities, they both had learned after a few moments of locked combat with the arrancar. Yoruichi, only a few moments ago drunk and ridiculous, had completely transformed into a warrior: her senses tuned finer than a feline; her attacks more deadly than a viper.

Though anxious about the battle that none of them were prepared for, Soi Fon could not help but bask in the glow that she felt, if only for a moment. Yoruichi had asked her to stay by her side during the fighting. She had asked her. This request helped reinforce the comforting lie she liked to tell herself, which she preferred to the hard truth. The lie that Yoruichi felt the same way about her.

But then she would remember, and the beautiful illusion would shatter once more. The stolen glances that Yoruichi would give him as he locked himself in a desperate duel between an espada didn't escape her. After all, she easily saw through her mistress' façade; the nearly perfect mask of laid-back impassiveness, covering the fear and anxiety ravaging inside. And it wasn't for her.

Urahara Kisuke…

"…"

It was only a second. In a moment of distraction—a silent, shared glance between him and her, to make sure the other was all right—he allowed the zanpakuto to slip past his Benihime. Aimed straight at his chest.

Soi Fon couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All she knew was one second, the sword was hurling itself at his chest, threatening to steal the life from it. And the next, it was plunging into her own.

She guessed that she'd never really had a choice. In the end, it had never been about herself. It had always been about Yoruichi-sama, about making her happy. And in the end, it would never be her that would do that. It would always be him.

Urahara would make her happier than she ever could.

And that was why he shouldn't die. He couldn't. But she could.

"Soi Fon, please, no! Not you!"

There was no mask in Yoruichi's voice any longer; it had long since broken. All that was left was the raw agony stemming from a someone who had lost everything. The raw pain that Soi Fon felt emanating from her mistress' voice stung her, as she felt Yoruichi's shoulders shake with grief.

But…why? Yoruichi had made it clear…so many times…the feelings she had for the shopkeeper. So why was she sad? He was safe, after all.

"Yoru…sama…just don't…be sad…please…this is how…it should…be…"

It was getting harder to breathe, let alone speak. Unbidden tears began forming in Soi Fon's closed eyes. But then, why was her face already damp? She slowly, agonizingly re-opened them. She saw Yoruichi's kneeling form, cradling her broken body in her arms. And were those really tears in her eyes, that were gently splashing onto her own cheeks? That couldn't be.

"Soi Fon, please don't leave me. I'm so sorry…"

"…sama…"

I love you. I will always love you.

So please…please don't cry.

Fin