Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach nor do I own it's characters and I make no profit from this piece of fan-fiction.
Warnings: Yaoi, angst, IchiHana
Summary: Hanatarou is happy for them. IchiHana Character Death Angst
A/N - This is my first Bleach fic. I've usually been in the Naruto-fandom, so please excuse me! This will be a bit (...a lot) angsty, but a lot of things have gone on in my life.
Warnings: IchiHana, rape (Not Detailed) Angst, Character Death, Death
Hanatarou watched Ichigo look at Rukia-san with love in his eyes and knew that he was to be forgotten, even after everything he had done.
But, Hanatarou knew that it just would've been a little bit harder. Ichigo could defeat the captains in Court of Pure Souls. How did Hanatarou showing them sewage tunnel paths and placing a little salve on wounds really effect anything in the long run?
It wasn't that Ichigo was cruel, because he was one of the kindest people Hana had ever met. It's just...nothing.
Hana was very happy for them, because kind men like Ichigo deserve virtuous princesses, like Rukia.
--
Hanatarou cleaned the cell where Rukia had once been kept, caged. Just because no one was in there didn't mean it was now clean and fresh. In fact, it almost gathered too much dust...
Later, Hana found out that some of the unseated members of the Sixth Division had been messing things up in there, just to taunt the Fourth Division seventh seat.
Pyschology was very important for a seated fourth division member. Often, wounds to the head caused trauma. Lashing out at innocents, was a method to help cope with fear.
Hana was happy for them, if teasing and making his work harder made them happier and less scared for the death that would follow battles.
--
Hanatarou watched as a Fourth Division unit rushed out to the battle-field, as a Arrancar had fell a unit of the Second Division. He was currently tending to a wounded Madarame Ikkaku who was unconscious. As a rushed stretcher was carried out by two bleeding lower seats, an animal like whimper of pain erupted from the front.
The unit of Second Division had sixteen survivors. The Fourth Division, the weaker ones, had 50 less survivors then that Second Division.
Hana was happy for the Second Division, even after some of those survivors smacked his head into a wall. Life was precious.
--
Ichigo forgot his name. But Hanatarou knew that it wasn't Ichigo's fault. Nearly everyone thought the name was forgettable. Most people just chose to call him Yamada or Hana.
Yamada/Hana was happy for Ichigo. It wasn't his fault.
--
Ichigo kissed Yamada Hanatarou at midnight, during the Chinese New Year. It was a drunken kiss, a sloppy peck on the mouth while the two were chatting about his father's medical clinic. While Hana had been asking Ichigo if it was alright if he filched some flu shots, Ichigo had leaned over.
"Yer cute, Hana. Hee. Hana-chan! A little flower, eh?"
Ichigo had forgotten the kiss and had a massive hangover the next morning. Hanatarou had given him a medicine that he had created for the 11th Division (cheap sake) and Ichigo had called Hana 'a good friend'.
Hanatarou was happy that Ichigo had no headache. He was happy for him that he had forgotten the little kiss, so that the orange-headed knight could still be with his princess draped in white.
--
Hanatarou was dying. There where colors, spinning, and rotating around and around and around and around.
No one was crying, because he was dying on Earth, alone. A human had raped him, leaving him in the alleyway near a shop. It had hurt, and he had blacked out after the man had entered him.
A Hollow had found him, and a death god was still one with a bit more soul energy then most others, Fourth Division or not.
Hanatarou let one tear fall out of his eye.
He was gone and no one would find his body for two days.
When they did, it was Ichigo and he vomited, more then the day after he had kissed Hanatarou, more then he had ever.
Ichigo mourned Hanatarou.
A/N.
Now. That was DEPRESSING. Dear god, what have I done...? I meant for this to have an utterly happy ending. EVERYONE would be happy. Instead...this THING emerged. I really wish I could say this was the most angst I've ever written...