A/N: I was discussing Kira's actions in the last manga chapter with a friend, and she mentioned that it might be helpful if someone wrote a fic depicting Kira's thoughts at that moment. My Muse heard that, but instead of focusing on Kira, decided to take a look at Hisagi's thoughts. This is how this little fic was born.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

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Can you explain to me, Taichou?

Kazeshini whizzed through the air, chasing after its prey. The Arrancar was running away as fast as he could, screaming in rage and fear, but Kazeshini was faster still. A spray of blood erupted as the zanpakutou reached its target. Hisagi Shuuhei felt his opponent's reiatsu vanish, and he shook his head.

"Equal to a Captain, huh? You couldn't be more wrong."

He could not help but feel some pity for the arrogant Findor. The Arrancar had not understood that winning or losing was not a matter of pure power until it was too late. It was sad, really.

Shuuhei sighed; he hated war and pointless killings. For the millionth time since his Captain's departure, he wondered just what had been going on in Tousen's mind, that he should support Aizen in such a horrible endeavour. What had happened to his Captain's distate of violence and injustice? Where was the justice in creating so many Arrancar just for the purpose of sending them to fight shinigami? What could be the justification for throwing unknowing, uncomprehending souls, on both sides of the divide, into senseless battles?

What has happened to you, Taichou! TELL ME!

As he resealed his zanpakutou and put it away, Shuuhei absent-mindedly checked on his comrades. He knew that Kira, his kouhai, had finished his battle a few minutes before him; his enemy's reiatsu had disappeared so suddenly that it had surprised Shuuhei when it had happened. Ayasegawa's opponent, on the other hand, had died slowly, his reiatsu decreasing step by step until there was nothing left of it. Shuuhei shuddered; he thought he had a very good idea of what had happened to the poor soul who had been unlucky enough to fight the pretty-boy from the 11th Division - the memory of his own encounter with the tricky bastard's zanpakutou still gave him nightmares sometimes...

That left only Madarame, so Shuuhei was not worried. Of the four of them, Madarame Ikkaku was the most fight-driven, both physically and mentally, the most resilient, and also quite frankly the most experienced. He also had already defeated an Arrancar previously, so Shuuhei had no doubt he would do it aga-

Shockwaves crashed through him, almost choking him. For one wild moment, he wondered if another enemy had managed to creep up behind him unnoticed and had dealt him a fatal blow. But no, no he was fine; the problem was not with him. Then what...?

Frantically, he scanned the horizon around him, looking for the source of the disturbance. His heart missed a beat when he found it. There, surrounded by a cloud of dust rising gently but steadily into the atmosphere, lay the unmistakable remains of one of the pillars. Madarame's pillar.

Shuuhei could feel his brain desperately trying to assimilate what he was seeing and feeling. Madarame... Madarame had been defeated! That... That was impossible! Kira, Ayasegawa and himself had all succeeded in defending their pillars, and Madarame had failed? That made no sense, no sense at all...

A loud yell snapped his attention back to his surroundings.

"Ikkaku!"

Turning his head towards the source of the cry, Shuuhei barely had time to see a flash of black heading towards the crumbled pillar. Ayasegawa! Shit!

Shunpoing as fast as he could, Shuuhei managed to throw himself in the path of the 11th Divisioner and to grab him by his shihakusho and his turtleneck. The expression on the smaller man's face intensely surprised him; he would never have imagined that it could even be possible for the cool, arrogant Fifth Seat to look so wild, so frantic, almost desperate. With a shock, he realised that the relationship between Ayasegawa and Madarame must run far, far deeper than he had ever suspected.

This new understanding only made him grip the other man's uniform even tighter. The Fifth Seat was obviously unable to fight properly in the frenzied state he was in; he would only get himself killed if he tried to take on Madarame's opponent.

Struggling to keep his voice calm and steady, Shuuhei attempted to inject some reason back into the man's head.

"Stop right here. What do you think you can do against someone who defeated Madarame?"

He was not sure how he expected the other to react. Ideally, he was hoping for Ayasegawa to step back into his usual collected self and to realise the foolishness of what he was doing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shuuhei also imagined that it was possible the Fifth Seat intended to use that wicked shikai of his; if he said so, then Shuuhei would let him go.

But Ayasegawa did neither. If anything, Shuuhei's question only seemed to unhinge him further.

"I dunno! Lemme go!"

He was struggling fiercely against the hold Shuuhei had on him, and Shuuhei felt his heart drop. Now he knew for sure that he could not allow the 11th Divisioner to rejoin his fallen comrade; doing so would be signing his death warrant and as a Lieutenant and acting Captain, Shuuhei knew he was not allowed to do such a thing, even if the man in question was not one of his.

He was staring at the desperate mania etched all over the pretty-boy's face and wondering how he was going to manage to subdue him, when a big drop of green liquid hit Ayasegawa on the cheek. Almost instantly, Shuuhei felt him going limp, even as his eyes rolled back; he barely had time to position himself to catch him safely before the smaller man dropped off his feet like a dead weight.

A tall figure stepped forward, and Kira's voice rang quietly but clearly:

"That's not how a Fifth Seat should address his superiors, now, is it? "

Shuuhei looked up into his kouhai's face, who added somberly.

"I understand his shock, really, I do, but still, he needs to get a hold of himself."

Shuuhei glanced down at the sleeping man in his arms, before returning his gaze to Kira.

"Kira, what...?"

His kouhai grimaced and showed him the small bottle he was holding in his hand.

"It's just a shinten. Don't worry."

An anesthetic. A desperate measure, which would not hold for very long, but still had taken care of the business at hand, for the time being. Hopefully, Ayasegawa would be calmer when he woke up...

That was, if Madarame was still alive when he came to, of course. The bald fighter was not dead yet, Shuuhei could feel his reiatsu, but he must be in a pretty bad shape to have allowed his pillar to be destroyed. Was his enemy going to finish him off? And if he did, what would Ayasegawa's reaction be upon waking up?

Turning his head towards the downed pillar, Shuuhei started praying in his heart, with all the energy he could muster, that somehow Madarame would make it out of this mess alive - because he could not face the prospect of having to look into the pretty-boy's face as he told him that his Division mate had died. Not after what he had just seen...

Cradling the sleeping man in his arms a bit tighter, Shuuhei quietly called to his Captain from the safety of his mind.

Where is the justice in this, Taichou? Where is it? Show me, because I sure as Hell can't see it right now. Maybe I'm the blind one, after all...

... But no. No he was not! He was the one who had just seen the pure horror of war, the despair, the terror, the rage, the denial, all of them screaming at him from the depths of a pair of huge purple eyes. How ironic. Tousen-taichou had always said that the 11th Division was full of nothing but senseless, mindless killers who were barely more than animals and did not belong in the Gotei 13. And yet right now, it was one of those supposedly sub-shinigami who was lying crushed by the sheer weight of the emotional monstruosity that was war.

How many more souls, whether shinigami, Hollow or maybe even living, would die, before this war was over? How many would writhe in anguish and despair as they lost and mourned loved ones? How many tears would be shed, how many hearts would be pierced, and hopes shattered? And for what?

For what, Taichou? For what? ... I don't understand. I... I just don't understand.

xx The End xx