A/n: This fic is written from Renkotsu's point of view. I am not making any comments on Jakotsu or Bankotsu. These are not necessarily my opinions. Do not flame on that. Also, RenkotsuxSuikotsu is part of this fic. Please do not go and say that it is ridiculous. Every RenxSui part in this fic is plausible. Thank you.

There was so much blood.

The logical part of his mind registered that there was, in fact, very little. A tiny sliver of jewel, glinting now in some unidentifiable, or perhaps not even extant, light source, was being swiftly and simply removed from his neck. That was all.

But there was so much blood. It splashed around him in waves. The blood of everyone he had killed. And Ginkotsu's blood. Suikotsu's blood.

That same part of his mind again registered that this could be what everyone said happened before you died: your life flashing before you. But this had not happened last time. This must mean this was final. Good. He, Renkotsu, was done with life. What more was there to lose?

Ginkotsu. His comrade. His best friend. How could he be taken away?

But he had been. And Renkotsu was able but to stand there and watch. And he knew it was all his fault.

When he had given Ginkotsu the ability to self-destruct as a final mode of defense, he was so sure he'd never need it. So very sure. Sure there was no way the Shichinintai could lose. Not ever.

Instead, he had watched, made helpless by the deep wound in his shoulder, as Ginkotsu had sacrificed his life to protect his own.

And Renkotsu knew that it was he who should have died. Not Ginkotsu. Ginkotsu…for someone in a band of mercenaries, he was pure. His heart was not the black hole Renkotsu was sure his was. And Ginkotsu was loyal. Renkotsu could barely imagine giving up his life for someone, anyone else. Except…

It hurt too much to think. Ginkotsu's death had nearly killed him. That was nothing in comparison. He thought that had hurt. He had known nothing. He had never known true pain. All through his childhood, when he had been abused and abandoned, he had never felt pain. It was nothing at all compared to…

And then there was Bankotsu. Even now, he hardly dared think the name. The irreversible extremity of Renkotsu's own anger almost scared him. Bankotsu was the one who deserved to die, more than anyone else. More even than Renkotsu himself. The bastard couldn't even feign caring for his beloved comrades! Renkotsu's mind had stored the whole scene in perfect clarity.

Bankotsu's voice, lacking any emotion. Any feeling whatsoever for the few people whom he could almost, but not quite, call friends. The words that had killed him. The death that was a thousand times worse than when he was facing now.

"Suikotsu, who was chasing after Sesshoumaru, has died too."

Not even a look of remorse for sending him to his death. Not even a hint of grief for the man…the comrade…almost, even, the friend…he had just torn to pieces. Those nine words were his death. The death of sane Renkotsu, if he had even been sane in the first place.

His Suikotsu. Just gone. Like that.

Like he didn't know where Suikotsu was. Like he'd paid no attention to the fact that the person who had proven him capable of loving, had treated him like someone who really mattered for the first time, had been sent to the strongest, most cold and uncaring demon with that worthless Jakotsu by his side. As if Jakotsu would even try to help him. As if Jakotsu would even say, "I'm sorry, I should have tried something, anything."

And just like that, his world had turned upside down, leaving him with two bastards who cared for nothing but each other, if even that. That never even spared a thought for his loss.

And then, what mattered? What should he care for the two men who were responsible for tearing his whole world down? After all, it was Bankotsu's orders that he go after Kouga. If not for that, Ginkotsu would not have died. And then, Suikotsu? From the story Jakotsu had told, he hadn't even tried to save his comrade. Just grabbed the shard and ran, like the coward he was.

What should these men matter? Life was the only thing that mattered. Ginkotsu's sacrifice could not have been for nothing. He had to live. He had to live to keep their memories alive.

But that had failed. Everything around him had failed. All his well laid-out plans. All his hopes. And that had brought on the reality. Renkotsu was what had happened to his friend and his lover. He had dragged them down with him, into the spiral of hopeless doom that he was trapped in. He deserved to be killed for that. Ripped apart limb by limb. Burnt in a fire. No. That wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be.

So he tried to take care of what he could. Two men worse than him. Jakotsu was…simple. Stupid, weak…he got what he deserved. Ripped apart by his latest conquest. He thought his luck was changing. That he could make it through this. If only to kill himself after ridding the world of the only two men who deserved death much more that he did.

But no. Renkotsu had no luck. There was no hope. These two men, cold, colder even than he, something he would have never believed possible without seeing it for himself…they had all the luck on their side. Bankotsu was blessed with strength beyond imagination. He always had the upper hand. Fate had always favored him.

And so, here he was, the one who died. He had failed. Bankotsu was still free to live on, to ruin more lives.

But, there was something to be grateful for.

Thankfully, it was the end for him. No one else would ever be close to him, would ever again be dragged down by him. Never again.

How much would he have given to just be a normal man if it only meant that he could have had more time with Suikotsu. More time. More time. He didn't even know Suikotu's real name. More time. But now, there was no more time. And maybe that was better.

Bankotsu didn't notice, hell, he wouldn't have cared if he had noticed, the small, rare smile on Renkotsu's face as he was sucked into the never-ending darkness.