Dulce et decorum est
Summary: The war against the Quincy has been raging on for weeks. Many have lost their lives in the meaningless battles strewn across the Seireitei. Renji, Soifon and Shuuhei soon learn how sweet and honorable it is…to die for one's country.
Warnings: Major Character Death; Blood & Gore; Violence
A/N: This story is dark and violent. It's a story about each Character (Shuuhei, Soifon and Renji) having to confront their own personal worst nightmare.I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy it.
'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori:
mors et fugacem persequitur virum
nec parcit inbellis iuventae
poplitibus timidoque tergo.' - Horace
XXX
'How sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country:
Death pursues the man who flees,
Spares not the hamstrings or cowardly backs
Of battle-shy youths.' - Horace
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. – Wilfred Owen
(The old Lie: How sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. – Wilfred Owen)
He would go down in history as the man that went mad from the sound of falling rain. A soft pitter-patter. Yet nothing felt soothing about the noise. A lone drop of water descended his face, mixing with red as it fell to the muddy floor at his feet.
Blood had been splattered across his face, a blotch of color on his too pale skin. He could smell the sweet and heavy scent of death in the air. Reaching out with his tongue, he swept some of the remains of crimson from his lips.
The metallic taste made his head spin and stomach turn.
It tasted like death. And life. And charcoal.
The field was silent expect for his own breathing and the trickling of the rain that was falling from the cloudy sky.
His Zanpakuto was held firmly in his hands, he gently lifted it - turned it - caught sight of the blood on his face. Complimenting his fire-red hair. His eyes rose once more and surveyed his surroundings.
Bodies, buried beneath fallen debris, were strewn out in front of him. Some clad in white, others in black.
Quincys and Shinigamis. So different in life, but in death they all looked the same.
The white clothing of his enemies had been dyed red. Like a field of lilies caught in a biblical downpour.
Not a single building had been left standing. Small fires were lit across the field, some dying out slowly in the steadily increasing rain.
His gaze halted as he stared at one figure lying on the ground, lower half buried beneath a fallen building.
The first step he took was a stumble, eyes fixated on the corpse.
White Haori, black silken hair, an adornment of broken Kanseikan on his head.
Byakuya Kuchiki.
His body from the neck downwards had been ripped open - from collarbone to navel, his intestines quelling out of him like a bouquet of flowers cradled in his arms. His dull grey eyes were staring at him – mocking him – taunting him with his own…weakness.
The taste of bile rose in his throat the longer his eyes lingered on the man he had idolized for years. His feet gave out underneath him and his knees met then ground with a sickening crunch. He fell onto his hands, breathing harshly as his unfocused eyes stared at the blood covered ground in front of him.
He wheezed once.
Twice.
Bile and vomit rose and splattered the ground in front of him, his arms were shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright. A trembling hand rose to his face and harshly wiped at his mouth. He was shaking, panting with the effort of keeping the last remains of food in his stomach.
Slowly he climbed back to his feet. His eyes once again fell on the form of Byakuya Kuchiki.
His rival, his mentor, his Captain…his friend.
He gritted his teeth against the painful thud in his chest at the sight.
With shaking hands, he ripped the remains of the Haori from Byakuya's body and placed it over his face, gifting his proud Captain one last act of dignity. He could not remain here any longer, god only knew when the next squadron of Quincy's would make their way into this part of the Seireitei.
A sudden noise alerted him. With bated breath he gripped his Zanpakuto tighter, shoulders rigged with tension.
He tried to ignore the blood, gore and body parts littering his way as he inched closer to the single disruption on the silent war zone.
A fallen building was blocking his path, windows shattered and the walls crumbling. Carefully Renji started climbing, the noise growing clearer the farther he went. His eyes widened as he was able to look over the top of the building.
Captain Soifon was kneeling on the ground just below him. Quickly Renji clambered over the rest of the building, stones breaking beneath his feet as he made his way downwards hastily.
"Captain Soifon!" He called, his relief of having found an ally clear in his voice. He jumped to the ground the rest of the way and landed a few feet behind her. Her back stayed turned towards him.
"Captain?" He called again.
"-ru-sama…stand up…Yoruichi-sama…Yoruichi-sama…please…w-we have to go…Yoruichi-sama…"
Dread filled him as he saw purple hair splaying across the ground behind Captain Soifon. He wanted nothing more than to turn and leave, to spare himself the view.
Yet his feet carried him forwards, stumbling and slow. He came to a stop just to the left of Soifon, staring down at the body cradled in her lap.
Even in death Yoruichi Shihoin looked beautiful.
Her yellow eyes were staring into the muddy clouds unseeingly, the light of mischief and laughter long gone. Her right arm and both of her legs were missing, a big puddle of blood was surrounding both her and Soifon.
The second Division's Captains Shikuhasho was drenched from both blood and rain, so were her hands which were still clutching at a wound on Yoruichis throat. One could only guess which injury had led to her death of blood loss faster. Her face was stained by mud, blood and tears, pooling onto the floor like a rainbow-colored oil stain.
"Captain…Captain Soifon!" He gently touched her shoulder, gripping it with one hand.
She didn't react.
"Captain." Renji called once again, more urgency in his voice. He gently shook her, trying to break her out of her daze.
"Captain!" He reached around and gripped both her shoulders, turning her towards him rather forcefully.
"She's gone!" His voice was harsher than he had intended, his own hurt and loss bubbling just beneath the surface. "Get a grip, Soifon-taichou. We have to leave."
"…Yoruichi-sama…We…we have to take her…She needs…h-help…"
"She's gone!" He yelled once again, a touch of desperation entering his voice, his yell breaking mid-sentence. Her unseeing grey eyes finally got back some of their awareness as she stared into his face.
"Abarai-fukutaichou…" She said slowly.
"Yes, Soifon-taichou…We need to leave. We can't stay here, there could be more of them lurking in the area." He gentled his voice slightly, hoping to break her out of her trance now that she had finally acknowledged his existence.
She slowly nodded her head.
"Y-yes. We…we need to leave. Re-group-…Are you alone?"
Byakuya's mangled body flashed before his inner eye. Renji swallowed heavily and nodded in answer.
"Yes…it's just me." He replied hesitantly.
Soifon pressed her lips together, not inquiring further. Renji could see the reluctance in her eyes as she looked down at Yoruichi's corpse. Her small hands shook as she released her mentors throat gently. "…Let us leave then."
.
.
.
His body felt heavy, bricks were weighing down his chest as he struggled to suck in air, his ears were whistling, his arms, legs and head were straining. Everything was too much. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. He couldn't open his eyes. A loud groan left his lips, followed by several harsh gasps as he tried to lift his arms.
A dull pain was spreading through his abdomen, followed by a multitude of stabbing sensations in his chest. He was wheezing at this point. The coldness of the hard ground beneath him was seeping into his bones.
His senses should be dulling, yet he felt every pebble digging into his back. He felt the blood slowly draining from his body, flowing out of his wounds steadily. Staying conscious was getting harder. He could see the beginnings of darkness threatening at the edges of his senses…yet he knew that if he should close his eyes he would very likely never open them again.
Eternal darkness.
It reminded him of his Captain…
'Those who do not fear the sword they wield, have no right to wield a sword at all.'
And he understood finally, with his sword clutched tightly to his body – his companion – his friend…his greatest fear. He understood.
'Kazeshini…thank you…' Shuuhei thought, the remnants of consciousness fleeing from him. 'And thank you too…'
"…Tousen-taichou…" He whispered quietly.
The sudden sound to his right would have normally caused him to be on high alert, to grit his teeth and try to stand up once again…yet the darkness was closing in on him.
If this was death…it would be a blessing.
At least he would be unconscious for whatever it was that was slowly advancing on him.
.
.
.
As Soifon made her way over the uneven ground her mind kept drifting back to the body she had left behind.
Yoruichi.
Her inspiration, her ambition, her enemy, her strength.
Seeing her – finding her…and holding her close during those last vulnerable breaths which spilled from her lips until they ebbed away completely…would forever repeat itself in her mind. She forcefully shoved the memory aside – she couldn't – wouldn't give in to her own grief now.
Soifon gritted her teeth at the beginnings of fatigue making themselves known in her body. Her shoulders were aching, head growing heavier with every step she took.
Almost automatically she took count of her injuries: three broken ribs on her right side. Her left ankle was throbbing painfully – curtsy of a fallen piece of debris she had tripped over. She could feel the blood form the scratch on her left biceps slowly drying – those Quincy and their blasted aim.
She threw a look towards her silent companion. Abarai-fukutaichou was walking a few steps behind her, a respectable distance yet she knew it was more in order to keep on the lookout for potential enemies.
Soifon had seen the look in his eyes as she had inquired about his company. There was no doubt in her mind about the fate which had befallen Kuchiki-taichou. Another life lost to this…madness.
Just like Yoruichi-sama.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate on the increasing pain in her ribs and ankle – those wounds could be treated easily. Wounds to the soul however…those never stopped bleeding.
Something was fluttering just at the edges of her consciousness. Her head snapped to the side and her eyes narrowed as she tried to pinpoint the Reiatsu she felt. Her eyes flashed, and she lifted her hand, signaling for Abarai to stay silent and be alert. A dwindling Reiatsu signature could be felt close by. There was no doubt that the person it belonged to was on the verge of death. Like a flame dying out in a hailstorm it seemed to flicker.
They advanced on the Reiatsu slowly. She gestured for Abarai to enclose the potential target from the other side. Fallen debris was obscuring their view and made it hard to distinguish between already dead Shinigami and Quincy, and those that might still have some life left in them.
"Shuuhei!" The yell made Soifon throw a furious glare into Abarai's direction. That buffoon would give their position away if he kept yelling like that.
Her eyes locked onto his red mane as he seemed to be kneeling next to the fallen form of a Shinigami. Cautiously Soifon drew closer, her hand still hovering over the handle of her sword.
Hisagi Shuuhei, Vice-lieutenant of the 9th.
Her eyes quickly drifted over his body, taking stock of the injuries he had received. Her lips thinned as the list of injuries kept growing the longer she inspected him.
A long rod of iron stuck out of his abdomen, impaling him. It was a wonder he had held out for as long as he had. Judging by the amount of blood surrounding him he had been bleeding out for some time now – a slow and painful death.
"Shuuhei…Shuuhei…!" Abarai was calling out to him.
A memory of the two of them – Abarai and Hisagi – training together and laughing rather loudly as they kept dodging and attacking, flashed through her mind.
Friends. Comrades.
Soifon exhaled sharply, air leaving her in an exasperated rush.
"Move!" She snapped at Abarai, pushing him aside bodily and taking over. He landed on his behind, catching himself on his forearms and blinking at her with an infuriatingly confused expression.
"I will heal him. And you will lift him up when I tell you to. The wound can't close with that thing still stuck inside of him. Clear?" She told him rather briskly, gesturing towards the metal pole covered in blood.
Abarai stared at her wide eyed for a few seconds. She raised her eyebrow at him in challenge. He finally seemed to catch on as he nodded once and gestured for her to begin.
It was a messy deal.
Soifon could feel sweat dripping down her brow as she focused on the wound on Hisagi's abdomen. Abarai was doing his best, trying to stop some of the bleeding with the remnants of his own Hakama. Hygiene be damned – they had bigger issues.
She had no idea how long it took for the wound to slowly scape over.
"Now!" She commanded Abarai.
He was on Hisagi in a second, wrapping his arms around him like one would with a child and lifting him off the metal pole with one quick pull. He placed him back down on the ground just as quickly. Soifon moved next to him immediately and concentrated on healing the damage done to his internal organs before moving on to the outer injury.
It had to have been hours of them kneeling on the ground between decaying corpses, healing a man despite all odds. The fact that they hadn't been picked up on by a squadron of enemies could only be attributed to a lucky star.
Finally, Soifon sat back and took a deep breath.
"We'll have to move him away from here." She told Abarai, closing her eyes and directing her face towards the sky, the light rain had ebbed a way some time ago, leaving behind a grey cloudy sky. "We have already wasted too much time here as it is. Carry him."
Abarai nodded mutely.
.
.
.
The sky was already darkening. Two figures were making their way over a battlefield. A female and a male. The man seemed to be carrying another person on his back while the woman led the way across the rubble and debris.
The woman never saw the attack coming.
But before she had any chance of reacting her companion had already moved. With an aborted cry he threw himself right into the blade aimed for the smaller female.
The Quincy had been lying in wait. His leg had been broken but…his Majesty Yhwach would bestow upon him his blessing for every Shinigami he managed to end.
Yes, his Majesty was cruel to those, incapable of performing his deeds.
But he would. He would prove his worth.
His Majesty abhorred weakness.
If he was to die. He would take another one with him.
Just one more.
One more Shinigami dead at his hands.
.
.
.
Healing Hisagi-fukutaichou had taken its tool. Soifon could feel the tiredness dragging at her every step, yet she forced her eyes open, tried her best to keep her mind alert. The sound of Abarai's stumbling steps behind her were reassuring yet concerning.
The other man didn't have the constitution of an Onmitsukido but had spent about as many hours on his feet as Soifon. They would have to find shelter soon. Her foot caught on a stone in front of her and she took a stumbling step, eyes straying to the ground.
She never saw the attack coming.
All she saw was red.
A flash of fiery red hair blocking her view.
A spray of red.
A spray of blood and an aborted cry.
"ABARAI!"
.
.
.
Shuuhei's weight wasn't as bad as Renji had thought in the beginning. He kept him balanced on his back with one hand wound around him, his other clutching his Zanpakuto. It was the cold and tiredness that bothered him the most, as well as the uneven ground which made it hard to keep quite on the already too silent battle field.
He had always been shit at sensing Reiatsu. Second only to Ichigo.
But this time – this time he felt it. He didn't even have the time to drop Shuuhei before he threw himself in front of Soifon-taichou.
Zabimaru roared as he held him in his hand. Yet his faithful Zanpakuto had only managed to block half of the attack aimed to kill Soifon-taichou. The second dagger which the Quincy had wielded imbedded itself right between his ribs.
Renji gritted his teeth against the pain and pushed back against the Quincy. A spray of red painted the air as the blade slit through the man's throat mercilessly.
"ABARAI!"
Renji ignored the scream in favor of pulling at the dagger imbedded into him. It clattered to the ground loudly.
He lookes at her, face flushed and breathing accelerated as he turned towards her. It was as far as he got before he met the ground, Shuuhei's weight like a ton of bricks pulling him down.
.
.
.
"Abarai!" Soifon yelled, rushing forward to the fallen form of him and his comrade. With more gentleness than anyone would have attributed to her she pulled Hisagi off Renji's shoulders and laid him down onto the ground. She moved to Renji's side quickly.
Slow raspy breaths were leaving his lungs, one of his arms rose shakily and clutched at the wound at his ribs.
At the wound which had punctured his lung. Blood spilled form his mouth as his breaths became heavier.
Curses flew from her mouth. Her hands were shaking. With gritted teeth she attempted to erect a healing shield. It collapsed. Sweat was pouring down her body.
She tried again.
Another failure.
And again.
Failure.
"Fucking hell Abarai! Don't you dare give in now! Abarai-fukutaichou! Can you hear me? Shit-!"
Soifon ripped her own Hakama off and pressed it to the wound. Her small hands took hold of Renji's big one. Their eyes met.
Another shuddering breath.
A rasp.
The Fukutaichou's glassy eyes stared back at her. His front painted in red and quickly spreading to the ground around him.
Her hand was still clutching onto his.
She slowly let go and balled them into fists as she lowered her head and gritted her teeth. In the next instance Suzumebachi was in her hands, her stinger pointed towards the long dead Quincy. With an inhuman roar she stabbed Suzumebachi into his chest.
Again and again and again.
The blood was splattering her face as the Quincy's body turned into a bloody mess, intestines strewn around his maimed body into every direction.
She only stopped when her arms grew tired, heavy pants spilling from her lips. Her face was dripping with blood, sweat, rain and tears she would never admit to.
.
.
.
When he woke it was to the motion of being carried. Before he could swallow it down a low groan escaped his lips.
"Hisagi-fukutaichou?" A familiar voice in front of him enquired softly. "Can you hear me, Hisagi-fukutaichou?"
Another low groan before he managed to open his lips and forced out a reply.
"…yeah…" He grated out.
Soifon-taichou…They must have found him. Still his body felt like he had been dropped at a couple of hundreds of meters of height. The carrying motion stopped.
Shuuhei winced as he felt himself being lowered slowly.
"How are you feeling?"
Shuuhei cracked his eyes open, Soifon was leaning over him, her face looked tired and worn, splattered with blood.
"Like shit…" Shuuhei answered her, feeling his usual strict decorum leaving him in the current situation.
"No worries…I won't…kneel over…that fast." Shuuhei forced a grin onto his face.
His words however were drowned out by a booming noise and a blinding white light illuminating the night sky for a spilt second before dying out once again.
"…What was that?" Shuuhei enquired, eyes widening as he stared at the sky.
"No…not what…who?" Soifon responded, staring at the sky too.
"He has come…" Soifon said, voice hoarse and distant to his ears as if it had been buried beneath oceans.
"Yhwach has come."
And hope…hope has ended.