NOTE: It's been so long since I've posted anything here, it almost seems foreign to me. I'm usually seen over in the Naruto section--or was seen over there at one time--but I've recently taken a liking to Bleach. This is my first Bleach fic, so I'm sort of treading on dangerous territory. With that said, I give to you…

BUT WE STAND TO FALL

PROLOGUE:

He felt no pain when his body crashed to the ground, his limbs splayed out around him. He didn't know how far he had fallen, just that he could hardly remember the trip back down to the earth, and that fact would be mildly disconcerting if he had the mental capacity to think about anything.

His attacker stood before him, looking, for what it was worth, completely unaffected by his attempts of putting his entire being--his entire life--into their fight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had known he'd had no chance of defeating the other man.

But who would he be if he didn't fight for the things he believed in?

Who would he be if he didn't fight at all?

His vision swayed as boot-clad feet came closer, stopping just before him.

He couldn't even prepare himself for the worst.

"Sayonara, Hitsugaya Toushirou." Aizen said, voice merely a whisper now. "I hope, for your sake, that we never meet again."

CHAPTER 1

"Unohana-taicho! We've got another!"

Unohana Retsu rarely swore openly. However, as she watched her lieutenant place a small, trembling body on another of the many cots stretched from one end of her division to the opposite, she couldn't prevent a certain four-letter word from escaping her lips. Her eyes could only look up for a moment to see the unconscious form on Hitsugaya Toushirou lying helpless a few feet away before her attention was pulled back to the man beneath her hands abruptly. The nameless Shinigami wailed in pain as she pressed her fingers further into the wound in his neck, applying as much pressure as her tired arms would allow, trying in vain to keep the man from bleeding out. But the red was spreading across her hand too quickly, the warm liquid fighting against her hold. She didn't have the time to focus too long on him. And when his eyes rolled back and his body fell limp, she knew he didn't have the luck to survive anyway.

She made many hard decisions in her life, especially in her life as the captain of the healing division in Seireitei, but nothing could be harder than moving on, than taking her fingers from the man's neck and leaving him to die. They all made sacrifices, she knew, but she had always found it rather unfair that she could make the decision to kill one man to save others.

Unfair to her or to those she sacrificed, she would never truly know.

But, again, she didn't have the time to waste on someone she was sure would have no chance of making it through anyway, and she could spare no hand of her subordinates. They were all busy making similar sacrifices, healing wounds, and trying to calm racing hearts with promising words to all the soldiers that had managed to make it to her division alert enough to still be shaking with fright.

"Isane!" she shouted, catching her lieutenant's attention as she moved over to where Hitsugaya had been deposited. Kotetsu looked up from across the room and she was heartened by the determination she found in the gaze. She nodded to Hitsugaya. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure." The silver-haired woman answered, the glow from her Reiatsu spreading in a blue-green around her own hands. "Some lower class soldier from the Sixth brought him here, said that Kuchiki-taicho told him to get Hitsugaya-taicho to you as soon as possible."

Unohana nodded, glancing back down to the small captain in front of her. Her brow furrowed as her eyes took in his disheveled, haggard form. Hitsugaya was not known for his grooming habits--though she blamed that mostly on his awkward adolescent body--but now he was hardly recognizable as the young man she had come to know. His white hair was stained red with blood, matted against his head and cheeks. His haori was hanging haphazardly onto one shoulder, the fabric tattered and ripped in several places, and his black kimono was in no better shape. It stuck to his skin in places with various body fluids, torn open to reveal the life-threatening wounds that had been inflicted upon him. His skin was slick with a thick sheen of sweat, but had lost any color it had had previous to his injuries. He was as white as the sheets on her tables.

She placed two of her fingers against the side of his neck, searching for a pulse, her own heart skipping when she felt it beating quickly, though faintly. Taking a closer look, she could see the subtle rise and fall of his chest and she sighed in relief at the thought that at least the young man was still alive, despite what his appearance portrayed.

And so she set to work.

Taking his kimono in her hands, she tugged quickly and harshly until she heard the fabric rip and Hitsugaya's pale chest was left completely exposed. Most of the wounds had already stopped bleeding, but each looked deep and unclean, especially the one that ran diagonally down the length of his chest. She thanked the Gods that he was unconscious, otherwise her next actions would cause the young man extreme pain.

"I need to sterilize!" she shouted, letting her voice carry throughout the room, but not addressing anyone in particular. She didn't even look up to see who brought her the basin of soapy water, a clean cloth hanging from the side. Her hands shook slightly as she dipped the cloth into the water before spreading it over the first of Hitsugaya's wounds. She ignored the pain in her arms as she scrubbed each slice in his skin clean, leaving the area surrounding the wounds red and irritated.

She lost track of time as she peeled more and more of the soiled uniform from his body, and she didn't know how many times the water in the basin had to be changed. There was so much blood, on him, on the cloth, on the sheets, on her own clothes. It was a wonder she was still able to stomach it.

Soldiers came and went, ignored completely by the captain of the healing division. She never took her eyes from her work, from Hitsugaya's body, and she checked periodically to make sure the young man was still breathing.

The warmth of the Reiatsu gathered in her hands was a stark contrast to the iciness of Hitsugaya's skin. It cast a soft green-blue glow around the young man, seeming to envelope him in her healing power. She ran her fingers carefully down the length of each long gash, watching in relief as they closed with no resistance. If he was lucky, he would get by without even a scar as evidence of the attack on his body.

She had healed all of his superficial wounds before she felt it, or rather, noticed she didn't feel anything. She swept her hand over him once more, searching for any sign of his Reiatsu. It never came as a surprise when she couldn't immediately feel Hitsugaya's spiritual energy; the young man kept it so closely guarded. However, she had been trained to search for breaks in his shields, to find any place she could slip her own Reiatsu in. She had done it so many times before, it hardly caused a problem for her anymore.

So why would she have difficulty feeling for it now?

Were his shields that tightly closed? Was he, with his last remaining strength, keeping any threat of intrusion out? They had all been taught to do it, to close themselves off completely, and guard what little Reiatsu was left. It was certainly a technique Hitsugaya had perfected.

But that didn't make any sense.

If he were guarding himself, she would still be able to feel the spiritual energy radiating off him. There would still be some sign that his Reiatsu was present.

Now, she could feel nothing at all.

"Taicho!"

She was jerked from her thoughts abruptly, and she raised her head to see Kotetsu standing before her, across the table, sweat running down the silver-haired woman's pretty face. Dark eyes watched her apprehensively, and a soft hand wrapped securely around her wrist.

She hadn't even realized she was trembling so profusely.

She inhaled deeply and let her eyes fall back down to the unconscious boy in front of her.

"They've pulled back, Taicho," Kotetsu said, her voice strong and clear in Unohana's muddled mind. "Aizen's group nearly slaughtered the whole of the Sixth division, but Kuchiki-taicho has just reported in. He said the battle is over."

Unohana could only nod, her focus still occupied.

"Taicho…"

She could hear the confusion, the anxiety, in Kotetsu's voice. It was rare that she appeared so completely unraveled, especially in the face of an emergency. She could understand the younger woman's concern.

"I'm alright, Isane." She looked up again, this time she held her lieutenant's gaze firmly. "How many more have been brought in."

"Several, but the other's are already seeing to their injuries. Nothing too serious has shown up yet."

Nothing too serious…

"I need you to find Ukitake, Isane," she stated, trying to keep her own voice as level as she could. "Tell him I need to see him right away."

She didn't need to see Kotetsu's nod to know the younger would immediately follow her orders. Kotetsu released her wrist and turned to the door that lead out of the Fourth division.

"And, Isane," Unohana said just before her lieutenant stepped out.

The younger woman eyed her warily from the door.

"If Ukitake has any objections, tell him it concerns Hitsugaya-san. This is serious, Isane."

She didn't have to elaborate her point to the other, was positive Kotetsu understood.

She didn't watch her second-in-command leave the ward.

Note: I know it starts out a little slow, but it'll pick up. Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. I certainly enjoyed writing it. I have my own theories that may be a bit different from KT's, but that's why this is called fiction, huh?

Ichigo's Ipod(songs that inspired me):

"Reflection" - One OK Rock

"Tokyo Night" - High and Mighty Color

Thanks for reading guys. Feedback would be most appreciated.