Shoot to Kill
A GinKira fanfic
Everything was the pitch black of night. Lightning reflected on his zanpakuto as he withdrew it from his sheath. His Shinigami uniform, drenched with blood, sweat, and rainwater was torn and dishevelled, as he ran through the backstreets of Seireitei.
Izuru Kira was not the strongest lieutenant, nor was he the weakest. His zanpakuto— the Miserable Man, the Penitent One—seemed like it had struck its own wielder's chest, causing him to wail in pain as he gasped for his precious breath. His sight was already blurred and marred by the constant downpour of bullet-like rain. Running away from a Menos Grande was difficult, but striking one was a gruelling task.
A million hollows, all synthesized into one, was any Shinigami's nightmare.
His sword existed to oppress an opponent with the shackles of its own weight. It was useless. The Menos Grande was a towering being, and by no means could he strike it from the ground he was standing on.
It was slow, but nonetheless, irrevocably powerful. Kira had feared that he wouldn't exterminate the Gillian, as he feared that no Captain would come to his aid.
Ichimaru- taichou was his puppet master, his commandant, and he was the measly doll who obeyed without compromise.
From the time Kira had been in the Academy, he had idolized—no, adored—the then-third-seater. As a child, Gin slaughtered those ranking above him, until maturity when he could suffocate others, by simply emanating his spiritual pressure. The prowess of Gin's zanpakuto amazed him, and was apparent that it was effortlessly wielded by a proficient combatant.
It was his joy to faithfully serve the man with a plastered smile and squinted eyes. Never had he discerned what his Captain thought about. Everybody had looked at his captain with conspicuous terror, and Kira was the only one who trusted him whole-heartedly. He was like a little child who earnestly sought the approval of his taichou.
And then he left.
He left as an alleged criminal. He had forsaken his lieutenant and the entirety of his division for power and domination. Kira never knew that behind his taichou's smile was a face of deception and deceit. Now, the Marigold—the flower of despair, the insignia of the 3rd division—fully embodied how Kira was feeling.
The weary Shinigami put his hands on his knees, panting heavily as the Menos Grande stomped its way closer. Immense beads of sweat fused with the icy rain that pelted his pale skin.
In the dead of night, after Aizen's murder, Ichimaru-taichou had risen out of bed. It was the most unusual thing for him to do, perhaps, sleepless from the accusations against him. The shijo door creaked as Gin cautiously slid it sideways, avoiding suspicion. Kira had already fallen asleep on his desk, with numerous documents unsigned.
The blonde's arms were folded, supporting his head. Gin had observed him. Kira was at peace. He wondered, that even with his loss, if Kira would manage.
Alas, it was time to leave.
"T-taichou-sama...?" the slumbering lieutenant instantly stirred at the sound of Gin's footsteps.
"where--?" he doused himself with confusion as he saw the silver-haired man making his way to the door. The slightest absence of his taichou worried him.
"Go back to sleep, Izuru." Gin still maintained his fox-like grin. Kira noticed his captain clutching his zanpakuto, Shinso. His thin hand grasped the S-shaped hilt while it was still in its sheath.
Gin seemed perfectly calm, but Kira sensed something wrong—and it all clicked. Gin was to escape. Escape his duties of captaincy and all suspicion. He was afraid this moment would come, rooting from the incidences that Gin would frequently disappear without consent.
The lieutenant stared. His heartbeat quickened, and cold sweat began to form on his neck. He stood behind his captain who turned to face the window. The moonlight engulfed the captain's skeletal figure.
"Don't worry, Izuru. You'll do well without your taichou, neh?"
"Taichou? What do you mean?" panic ensued within Kira. He rejected the words of his Captain. His breathing intensified as his hope was being crushed by the daggers of Gin's facetious undertone.
The fox-like smile dwindled as if it was replaced by a look of disappointment. It was in these rare moments that Gin removed his mysterious facade.
" Do you want to stay in the Third Division and be with your subordinates?" he said as he tilted his head towards his lieutenant, regaining his mocking smirk, "Or do you not, Izuru?"
"N-no...Taichou." Kira bowed his head in defeat and bit his lip. He could never persuade his captain. He has made his verdict.
"I will stay."
"Good."
Whipping back to reality, Kira grinded his teeth and clenched his fist around Wabisuke's hilt. He named himself a fool as to let go of his captain so immediately, so carelessly. It was then that he felt a surge of violence through his veins. With his knuckles throbbing, he struck a blow on the white Seireitei wall.
No, he wouldn't waste his energy on selfish, personal matters. His priority was to eliminate the Menos Grande.
The vibrations on the cement echoed along with the roaring thunder. The petrifying Hollow gained more ground in the cat-and-mouse chase. All or nothing, he thought. He summoned all his fury and raised his spiritual power to its peak.
Beads of sweat trickled down his temples as he turned to face the giant. A few meters away it was, and Kira positioned into his fighting stance, vigilant to wound his target.
"Omote o agero, Wabisuke."
And with his command, the katana swiftly transformed into a double ninety-degree sword, ready for murder. His muscles tensioned. At once, he sprinted towards the monster with mustered fury and spiritual pressure combined, swearing never to bathe in defeat.
His momentum had come, as his flash steps were undeniably unrivalled.
Strike one. The hollow's weight has doubled. Black hollow blood spurted as Wabisuke ripped open its skin.
It was not enough for one blow to render the Menos Grande defeated. In fact, it was still standing, disregarding Kira's inferior attacks. Kira wasn't satisfied. No Shinigami would be satisfied by just a mere gash on his enemy's body.
He struck again. A second wound. By now its weight had quadrupled.
The Menos Grande appeared as if it was just child's play, toying Kira with annoyance. It had enough. It decided to abolish the Shinigami, rather than paying no heed to the destruction of Seireitei.
Kira landed on a rooftop as his breathing became laboured. A fine target he was, as he momentarily was held stationary by extreme fatigue. Rainwater did not help in soothing the heat his body was emanating, and was practically out of energy. Little did he know that a moment defenselesness led to his annihilation.
A red ray of light was fired from the mouth of the Menos Grande.
Impact.
Kira screamed with excruciating pain— the sound of his bones snapping, his skin ripping open, and his body being shattered with his collision with the cement. He lay sprawled on the wet ground, his blood spurting out with every heartbeat and turning the water into swirls of ruby red.
He was going to die, as almost every organ in his torso was failing rapidly. His breathing was that of a fish out of water—painful and purely torturous.
Wabisuke was a meter away from him, and with a trembling hand tried to reach for it. If he breathed his last, then, he wished his Zanpakuto be right with him.
Alas, there was no gain in retrieving Wabisuke.
With the last of his strength he desperately attempted to mend himself with the little healing knowledge that he knew. Kira decided it was futile. Not even Captain Unohana can recover him, let alone recover the blood he had lost.
His eyes pleaded to be shut.
And he obeyed.
"Ikorose, Shinsou."
His life has been completed, as he heard his Captain's voice for one last time.