Blood.
But it wasn't indistinct from the red splashes on the ground. It stood out to her more than anything. Because it was her blood.
A shriek ripped across the battlefield and she looked around for its source only to find that it was her. She was screaming.
The world blurred around the edges as she moved and she wondered 'Is the world stopping?' But no, it was only her shunpo carrying her forward to her. Her daughter, her everything.
She cradled her gently in her arms, her violet eyes heavy and dark with grief as she whispered "Hisana. Hisana don't leave me. Please, Hisana!"
She opened her eyes to look at her and in that moment she could have cared less about the hollow eye that stood out there. She focused only on that singular, diamond grey eye, watching its life fade. Watching her daughter slip away from her with every moment.
"Hisana." she sobbed weakly but her child just stared up at her and whispered in the softest, most heartbreaking voice in the world:
"I'm sorry."
And then, she was gone.
Vaguely, she heard the screams of her comrades behind her. Telling her to move, to do something. But she couldn't. How could she move, how could she carry on when her baby, her life was gone? She couldn't. She just couldn't.
"...Hisana..."
She sobbed, leaning over her daughter's limp body and hugging her tightly, whispering her name. She wished so badly that she would open her eyes again. Laugh and smile with her again. Yell at her again. Anything. But she wouldn't. Not now. Not ever again. She was gone. Gone.
"...Hisana."
...And someone had killed her.
"Hisana."
The woman froze, her violet eyes widening in comprehension of the thought that had just flashed across her mind and then something snapped. Her chest warmed up, something harsh and hot swelled up inside her. It was anger, no, it was fury.
"HISANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Her scream ripped across the battlefield, piercing the hearts of ally and foe alike. Tugging at their frozen hearts for the pain and fury of a mother. Then that pain was real, ripping across the battlefield as a white, hot light that burned, stung, incinerated them inside out...
.
..
…
Silence was the specter that hung over the frozen battlefield. The ice gleamed menacingly in the little light from above, leering at its foes in challenge, just daring them to come forward and settle the score.
Rukia Kuchiki stood at the heart of the frozen wasteland. Her white scythe red with the blood of foes. The body of her daughter still cradled in her arms, the body of the man who had killed her sleeping at her feet, human once more.
No one dared speak as the ivory angel parted her lips, the white beads of her hagoromo tinkling softly.
"Who is next to die?"