A/N: I am so, so, so sorry this took so long. First there was schoolwork, then there was writer's block, and the next thing I know summer break is over. I have no excuses, really, but it would be really awesome if people are still reading this.


Glass and Bone

Chapter 7


'Reign over the frosted heavens-' The words fell from his lips with a rush of distant familiarity, as if he knew them before, and somehow they felt right on his tongue.

My name is-

'Hyorinmaru!'

.

.


Exhilaration coursed through his veins like a fierce, steady gust in a valley. The sword in his hands was cold to the touch yet warm with life; his once heavy heart was lifted, breathing was suddenly easy, and he now knew what people meant when they said a zanpakuto was a part of the soul.

It only lasted less than a moment.

Almost as quickly as the thrill of joy had swelled in him, it was gone and replaced with a sickening churning in his stomach. The air was thick, almost as if it had frozen along with his senses; he was beginning to feel lightheaded with the gnawing sensation that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

He stood, the sword in his hand dissolving as the dragon materialised by his side, with apprehension bubbling in his stomach while the snow from the snowstorm fell in powdery wisps in the absence of the howling wind. The silence was nearly deafening, and the temporary tranquil was torn from his grasp when Hyorinmaru let out a horrible screech, which was followed by the sounds of what he had come to know as that of ice shattering.

He knew of only one thing in this entire plain of ice large enough to produce such a cacophony.

Hitsugaya whirled around to face the crumbling wall of ice that had once stood so unnaturally solid it had never even occurred to him that it was not indestructible. Rocks of ice fell, swallowed up by the thich carpet of snow that blanketed the ground, and Hyorinmaru swooped to curl protectively around him only a moment too late.

Hitsugaya remembered, just a moment too late, that there had been someone else beyond the wall – someone in his mind and soul that terrified him so much he had driven himself to prematurely seek out his zanpakuto.

He gripped his sword tight only to find his hands empty, and when the last boulder of ice fell to the ground, the silhouette beyond the wall of ice solidified into a person.

The person was tall with dark hair and dressed in the Academy's uniform, slightly gangly and bent over with exhaustion, and he held in his hands the same sword that Hitsugaya had held not seconds ago. They stood so close, that the mist of their breath was enough to cloud his vision. If the stranger had wanted to kill him, he would already be dead.

This was no stranger.

Kusaka lowered his blade until its tip touched the snow, an incredulous look on his face. 'Toshiro?'

.

.

As if his words had broken a spell, the wintry plain faded and was replaced by the dank cave they had entered that morning. The bright white of the snow left them dazed in the dark, and Kusaka was the first to recover. He was flushed and giddy with excitement, his face bright with the smile of a child and a flood of words tumbling from his lips unchecked.

'Wow, isn't this great?' Kusaka started saying as Hitsugaya pushed his tired body into a sitting position. 'I can't believe we both get to wield Hyorinmaru. I mean, I always knew you would get something cool and amazing, but me? Wow.' Kusaka turned the blade in his palm over and over again, unable to take his eyes off the way it gleamed in the dim light. Hitsugaya decided that if Kusaka said "wow" one more time, he would have to start a fight.

Kusaka looked up from the sword and interrupted Hitsugaya's train of thought with a question. 'I didn't know two separate people could wield twin zanpakuto. Did you?'

'Something's wrong,' Hitsugaya said. 'Hyorinmaru's not a twin.'

'How would you know? It's been centuries since the last recorded wielder. Just because it's not in the books, or just because you haven't read the book that happens to have the information-'

'A spirit as famous and powerful as Hyorinmaru?' Hitsugaya shot back, perhaps a little to sharply, a little too poisonously. 'They wouldn't miss a detail as important as that in even the most basic history books. Hyorinmaru is a single blade, so why?'

'Maybe the books don't record everything because the spirits are fluid and subject to change, just like everything else. It doesn't help that it takes centuries, even millenia for a spirit to reincarnate,' Kusaka pointed out.

'The books you and I read are different! Can you imagine what would happen if we wrote history like we wrote literature?'

Fury flashed across Kusaka's expression and he nearly lashed out, but caught himself before he did, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to calm down. 'No. You're tired, I'm tired, and neither of us knows whats going on, so let's not fight.'

Hitsugaya chewed his lip. The evidence contradicted his knowledge, and he was quite possibly about to short-circuit. How could there be two identical swords, when all the records of Hyorinmaru never once mentioned a twin blade?

The only logical conclusion he could come to was that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong – and that one of them would have to pay for it.

.

.

The next school day, both top students of the year spent morning training in the library instead.

'Cutting class, now?' The librarian asked as they stood in the corridor waiting for her to unlock the heavy wooden doors.

'This is important,' Kusaka said imploringly. 'Far more so than beating other students into the mat.'

The librarian narrowed her eyes and tutted sternly, but let them in without further complaint.

They planted themselves at the table by the shelf of books on zanpakuto, and pulled book after book from the shelf – Kusaka in search of proof of a zanpakuto's fluidity of existence, and Hitsugaya in search of proof that something strange indeed was bubbling not so far under the surface. Naturally, it did not end well.

'Listen to this,' Kusaka said, with a fragile old tome lying delicately on the table before him. 'It says here that-'

'Not now, I'm trying to read this,' Hitsugaya said, and absently knocked Kusaka's hand off his shoulder.

'Look, you've been acting crazy ever since Hyorinmaru started talking to you every day and night. Don't you think you need to maybe take a step back and think some rational thoughts before you actually go really crazy?' Kusaka demanded in a voice that would get anyone else thrown out of the library.

'Don't talk like I'm the only mad one,' Hitsugaya retorted. 'You've been behaving strangely ever since we found out that-'

'Strangely?' Kusaka echoed, sounding almost strangled with rage.

'Even if you're right, and Hyorinmaru is now two entities, how is it that we were both called to the same inner world? The inner world is a wielder's mind. It's so fundamentally wrong to share it with someone else. God, this whole thing is messing both of us up.'

Kusaka sighed and dropped back into his chair, all the life seeming to drain out of him. 'You're right,' he said lowly. 'I don't know what's come over me- I don't know who I am anymore. I just so desperately wanted-'

Hitsugaya let his arms fall lifelessly to his lap before drawing his knees up, not caring that he was putting his dirty feet on the library chair. 'I'm so sorry,' he mumbled into his knees. 'I haven't really been myself for a long time.'

A long silence hung over them like a dark cloud weighing heavily on their shoulders, neither of them moving for the longest time. The longer he sat there, the heavier his mind grew, his thoughts chasing him into confusion. Perhaps there was not meant to be an answer to everything, Hitsugaya thought. Perhaps not everything was meant to have an explanation, he told himself, and if he could find a way to let this brokenness wash over him without sweeping him away, perhaps he could come to live with it. Hours passed and the morning sun rose higher into the noon sky, and he wondered if his frustration would ever fade into resignation. He was dimly aware of the lunch bell ringing in the distance, and of how the small lunch crowd that the library experienced had slowly dissipated as another hour passed.

He didn't realise he had let his eyes slip closed until Kusaka broke the silence, and his stream of consciousness was jerked back to the library.

'You felt it too, right?' Kusaka said hesitantly and quietly. 'That moment when Hyorinmaru sealed the bond, it was euphoria and fulfilment and joy and completion all at once. And when the wall of ice broke, it was like everything was torn from my grasp, as though my very soul was being ripped into shreds.'

Every word that Kusaka uttered was like a knife to the gut because it was all so painfully true, and Hitsugaya didn't have the heart or the words to tell his friend to shut up, so he ended up listening to him ramble on.

'After a taste of what it should have been like,' Kusaka continued, his voice hollow and dry, 'I don't know how anything less could be bearable.'

.

.

They had agreed to keep the entire situation a secret – that neither would even mention achieving shikai to anyone. It was a ridiculous plan, because anyone who was an expert in sensing spiritual power would know in less than a second that something was not quite right. Half an hour into afternoon lessons, Hitsugaya had decided that wallowing in dust under the librarian's judgmental stare was doing him absolutely no good, and checked out three of the largest books he had been reading. Kusaka followed suit, and they slunk into the last row in the lecture hall, books in tow.

'Better late than never, I suppose,' the lecturer had grumbled when the back door clattered open. When she noticed that they were not carrying textbooks, she sighed audibly. 'Hitsugaya, I have a note from the headmaster for you.'

Hitsugaya shuffled to the front, fully aware that over a hundred pairs of eyes followed him to the lecturer, watched as he stuffed the envelope into his sleeve, and followed as he shuffled back to his seat. Once the lecture had resumed, Kusaka took the envelope from him and tore it open, mumbling something about ripping a bandage off.

'If we're busted, then we'd better read it, and if we're not, then no harm opening it, right?' Kusaka had said as he handed the folded letter back to him. 'Besides, it's only addressed to you. If they'd found out they would want to speak to both of us, right?'

Hitsugaya shrugged halfheartedly, and laid the piece of paper flat on the table so they could both read it.

Hitsugaya Toshiro
Captain Shiba of the Gotei Thirteen has requested an audience with you this Wednesday, 6PM in the Academy's training field. This meeting will take priority over any other commitments.
Vice-Captain Matsumoto
Tenth Division

'Oh my god,' Kusaka breathed. 'It's the captain who offered to train you after graduation. That is so awesome- Wait, does this mean that someone inside Seireitei already knows that there's something wrong with your zanpakuto? If they were going to train you, they must have been keeping tabs on your spiritual pressure, right?'

'That is a possibility,' Hitsugaya admitted he had not thought of that.

'That is really, really far from awesome,' Kusaka moaned. 'Now we only have until Wednesday to figure everything out.'

'It would be a miracle if they let us have until Wednesday,' Hitsugaya said grimly, and set the letter aside so he could wrestle one of his giant books onto the desk. It was an ancient thing, titled Prominent Swordsmen of the Gotei Thirteen, and though he had barely started his eyes were already burning from all the densely printed words on every page. By the time he was ready to give up on the book, the lecture was winding down and he reluctantly turned another page, fully expecting to be disappointed once again, and his jaw dropped when he actually found "Hyorinmaru" – albeit in the ancient script – on the page.

He nudged Kusaka. 'Look, I found it. The previous wielder of Hyorinmaru, I think. Karasuma Akifumi, once the Captain of the Seventh Division. Single blade, it says. He's the last? That was over a thousand years ago.'

Kusaka leaned over to eee the tiny print. 'It says he was killed in action during the second uprising. That was really long ago. He must have had a ridiculous haircut, if all the prominent historical figures we covered in class are anything to go by.'

Hitsugaya stifled a snort. 'I wonder if it's worth asking Hyorinmaru. In person, you know. I'd bet he knows what's going on.'

'Oh yes,' Kusaka said with a smirk. 'Hi there, dangerous beast capable of brutal murder, why are our lives in ruin and our sanity in mortal danger?'

'Did you hear that? That was the sound of you, hurtling through the air and sailing out of the stratosphere as a dragon laughs mirthlessly,' Hitsugaya said.

Though their banter was stifled, it provided a twinge of hope that despite the circumstances, they could still, sometimes, be as normal as they used to be. The moment was short-lived, however, because Hitsugaya had been right. Of course they didn't have until Wednesday – they didn't even have until the end of the lecture to attempt to sort out the mess they barely understood.

'Kusaka, Hitsugaya!' the lecturer rebuked from across the room. 'If you choose not to pay attention to the lesson, you can do so either quietly, or outside.'

While she spoke, the door to the classroom had slid open with almost comedic timing, and a man dressed in the garb of one of the Central 46's messengers appeared in the doorway. 'Kusaka Sojiro and Hitsugaya Toshiro,' the messenger said brusquely. 'Outside, please.'

The teacher fixed the messenger with a hardened glare, and the messenger bowed courteously. Hitsugaya had stiffened, rigid as a board, and Kusaka steeled his nerve and dredged up every last drop of bravado he had to brazenly act as if nothing was wrong. With one hand on Hitsugaya's shoulder, he steered his friend towards the door. 'Very good,' he said. 'We shall be quiet, outside, and not paying attention at all, it appears.'

With that, he stomped out of the room.

Once they were alone in the corridor with the classroom door firmly shut behind them, the messenger spoke. 'Kusaka Sojiro, Hitsugaya Toshiro, you are hereby under arrest by order of the Central 46.'

'Why?' Kusaka demanded.

The messenger did not bat an eyelid, and continued to speak as if he had not been interrupted. 'Failure to comply peacefully will result in harsher punishment. The Central 46 will see you now,' he said, his hands already moving to perform a transportation spell.

Hitsugaya stood with his jaw clenched, his brain running through an infinite variety of possible outcomes of this encounter, ranging from the plausible to the unimaginably ridiculous, and he hadn't realised that he was panicking until the transportation spell began to take effect, and the wooden corridors of the Academy faded out in patches of grey static around them.

Breathe, he commanded himself. Behind him, Kusaka was tense with horror. Even though neither of them knew why or how there came to be two Hyorinmarus, they were certain now that something was horribly, awfully wrong and the Central 46 knew exactly what. But yet – they hadn't done anything wrong, no part of this predicament was by anyone's doing; there was nothing the court could punish them for.

Hitsugaya choked on his own breath, as if the very thought that the Central 46 would be merciful was mocking him from inside his own mind.

He was lying to himself, and he knew it. The court had a history of indicting suspects based purely on circumstantial evidence under the guise of maintaining order in Seireitei. It rarely mattered who committed the crime, as long as someone paid the price, and the authorities would bury the issue in a swath of bureaucratic propaganda. In a system with the odds stacked heavily against two unknown students from rural Rukongai, what chance did they have?

It was then that a deep rumbling from within his mind stilled his shaking hands and quietened his thundering heart. Amidst the rustling of icy scales and the swirling of the wind, Hitsugaya realised that perhaps not all was lost.

They had Hyorinmaru, the strongest spirit of ice in all of Soul Society, on their side. With its power and authority, perhaps all was not lost – perhaps, they had just a tiny sliver of hope on their side.

.

.

The spell dissolved like a veil of water, falling away to reveal a lavishly finished room with an extravagantly high ceiling, all panelled in what could only have been the highest quality of polished wood that Soul Society had to offer. He and Kusaka were in the centre of the square room, and around them the members of the Central 46 sat in seats that surrounded them in an octagonal shape, rising upwards and outwards in larger, grander rings of rich polished tables. On opposite sides of the room, six seats rose high above the rest, seating the six high judges of the court, and Hitsugaya could feel forty-six piercing gazes bore into his very being at that moment.

When he tore his eyes from the dizzying sight of being surrounded so impeccably and cast his gaze to the floor – and instantly any shred of calm that he had manage to cling to so far evaporated from his grasp, and he heard Kusaka's breath catch in his throat.

On the floor, in the very centre of the room, two identical swords – each with a star-shaped guard and an icy blue hilt – stood quivering with their tips buried in the wood.

His ears went numb as he felt the blood drain from his face while pure horror flooded his gut and overwhelmed him. With Hyorinmaru keening at the back of his mind like a swirling, raging storm, Hitsugaya knew in that instant that they were not here to be tried – they were here to be sentenced.

The first member of the court to speak was the leader, an old man in the highest seat. 'Kusaka Sojiro, Hitsugaya Toshiro, take your weapons,' he said in a voice that echoed with authority and power and menace that chilled Hitsugaya to the bone.

He stole a glance to his left and was surprised to see Kusaka standing with his head held high and his jaw set with determination, as if he would not let injustice faze him. Not once did Kusaka let any emotion other than nonchalence show on his expression, and he calmly wrapped his right hand around the hilt of the first sword. It shimmered at his touch and slid seamlessly out of the wood, a deep blue sheath wrapping around it as he secured it to his waist. He did not lower his head, and neither did he bow – instead, it seemed as if possession of the sword gave him new confidence. Hesitantly, Hitsugaya reached out and took the second sword into his uncertain hands. The dragon was emitting a constant, low rumble; it was obviously agitated as it coiled and uncoiled in his mind, and let out an apprehensive snarl when Hitsugaya touched the cool hilt of the sword before him.

The second blade shimmered at his touch, sliding out of the wood like its counterpart as a mist condensed around it to form a sheath and sash. With the entire court watching his every move, Hitsugaya hefted the sword over his shoulder and wore it across his back. It settled heavily against his shoulder blades and the small of his back, and his inner world exploded into a howling blizzard that was quickly unravelling his grip on reality – it made his head spin, and though the judge had begun speaking, he couldn't hear a word, and he was sure he was missing entire chunks of the judge's spiel while he grappled with anchoring himself in one plane or the other.

After what felt like an eternity, he heard the judge address them through the haze of the panic, and his world upended itself upon the shreds of hope he had clung to.

'The Central 46 has come to a decision,' the judge said on behalf of the entire court. 'It has been decided that it is not possible for two shinigami to wield the same sword. The true wielder of Hyorinmaru shall be determined through a duel.'

Kusaka looked stricken, frozen to the spot as his jaw trembled with unspoken words. Before he could register how dumb he was about to be, Hitsugaya reflexively took a step forward.

'Are you saying we have to fight to the death? Here?' he demanded.

All at once, members of the court began speaking over and around each other.

'Hyorinmaru does not choose just anyone,' they said, their voices echoing around the room and impeding his ability to think straight. 'It is an indication of your superior skills and capabilities, of natural talent and strong character. You should be honoured that Hyorinmaru has chosen to share its soul with you.'

A million thoughts flashed through Hitsugaya's mind in a split second.

Honoured? To share his soul with Hyorinmaru, the dragon that had preyed on his sleep every night for over a year, the beast that nearly killed his grandmother, that chased him out of his own village and into Seireitei against his own will? Yet, he realised, the village had never been his home – his days in the Academy training and working hard had been his happiest, where he had peace of mind and a friend to count on. Kusaka was the only person outside his family who genuinely cared, and treated him as an equal.

Between the dragon that tore his world apart, and the friend who helped him rebuild everything he had thought unrepairable, the choice was obvious, really.

'I object!' Hitsugaya shouted, louder than he had ever dared to. His voice bounced off the walls and he could hear the pathetic undertones of terror in the reverberations. 'If it means I have to fight against Kusaka, then I would rather abandon Hyorinmaru!'

Kusaka turned to him, his face contorted into an unreadable expression, but before he could say a word, the court was abuzz once again.

'Ridiculous.'

'Impossible.'

'Unacceptable.'

'Did you think it would be easy to tear yourself away once a zanpakuto has sealed its contract?'

The last question knocked the air from his lungs, but he forced himself to retaliate.

'Why can't we both wield the same sword?' he asked again, despising how much he sounded like an impudent child who refused to be denied anything, 'If Hyorinmaru has sealed the contract, then surely-'

'It is the law,' they said.

'A law that has been in place since ancient times.'

'Do not question the foundations of our society.'

'The law must be upheld.'

'The only way to settle this once and for all is with a duel.'

'Fight!'

The chamber was in escalating chaos, with the rising calls for a duel. The scenery before him flashed rapidly between the icy barren tundra of his mind and the polished wood of the court, the wind howled constantly in his head while Hyorinmaru screeched in distressed tones he had never heard before, like nails on a board grating against his nerves, and all the while the voices of the judges and sages rang in his ears like the heavy drum beat of a war cry.

Fight.

He couldn't see through the snow and the hail that whipped through the air in the ferocious beating of Hyorinmaru's mighty wings. Somewhere in this mess, Kusaka had to be here as well – he needed to find him-

Fight.

Kusaka stood before him now – he was no longer on the icy plain but back in the court – with a panicked look on his face. His lips were moving, and he gestured frantically, but Hitsugaya couldn't hear anything other than-

Fight.

The next gasping breath he drew brought him a mouthful of snow. His face stung and he couldn't tell up from down, and Hyorinmaru writhed in the air like a suffering creature-

Fight.

When he looked in the judges' faces, he saw a long, dark history of bloodshed, of merciless brutality. The air around him was cold and wet, the stench of blood heavy around him. He tasted the copper on his lips, and saw it stained on everything he laid his eyes on.

Fight.

He was trembling on his feet, icy tendrils of dread and fear gripping him and rendering him immobile.

Fight.

Fight.

Fight-

Through the noise, he heard Kusaka's voice, frantic and hoarse, and he whirled around.

'Hitsugaya!'

He was taken by surprise, for Kusaka had always insisted on calling him by his given name. Kusaka was a dishevelled mess, his usueally neat hair flew unkempt and his eyes were unfocused – the look on his face reminded Hitsugaya of a cornered wild animal, and he found himself involuntarily taking a step back, and nearly slipped on the thin sheet of frost that had begun to coat the floor and walls.

'I took an oath,' Kusaka said unsteadily. 'I swore to protect Seireitei, to fight for Soul Society.'

Somewhere in the distance, between his own emotional turmoil and havoc, he felt distress turn to despair, and despair to resolve, and he watched fearfully when Kusaka's eyes flashed cold as steel in that instant.

'Hitsugaya, I want Hyorinmaru!' Kusaka drew his blade, and Hitsugaya heard the metal singing in the frigid air. Kusaka raised his sword arm, but his form was sloppy and completely off-centre as he charged.

Kusaka wouldn't hurt him, would he?

Fight.

The next thing he knew, Kusaka was upon him, and with a cry – of surprise, of hurt, of confusion – he felt Hyorinmaru swoop in to fill his senses and his right arm flew to his sword. With a clash of metal on metal, Hitsugaya struck Kusaka's blade away in disbelief.

'Kusaka, what-' The words died in his throat as he scrambled to defend himself from a second attack. Kusaka lunged forward again, and this time Hitsugaya was knocked from his feet. He stumbled sideways and landed on his side to discover that the ground was dirty and wet with snow. He looked up to see Kusaka in a daze, mountains in the distance, and clouds of mist clouded his view with every gasping breath he took. The Central 46 was gone, and instead Hyorinmaru circled high above them in the bleak grey sky.

He rolled to the side to avoid another wild swing of Kusaka's blade and landed nimbly on his feet a short distance away. Now everything was quiet, so quiet he could hear his own heart racing. He bent low, his sword held at the ready, and tried to remember every sparring session he had had with Kusaka. His strongest strikes came from above and from the left, while his defense was weakest when he parried a counter blow.

But, Hitsugaya realised, that all this information was absolutely useless now that Kusaka was blinded with – what was it, rage? Desire? Insanity? All he knew was that this opponent was not the friend and sparring partner he was used to, that he was moving recklessly and leaving himself wide open on almost every side.

Hitsugaya dodged the next attack again, and threw his weight forward in an effort to push Kusaka off balance. 'Snap out of it!' he shouted. 'What did they do to you?'

He had felt it when his ears rang with the hypnotic voices of when the Central 46 had been urging them to duel. The air had been laced with something so unfathomably powerful that he had felt himself nearly succumb to whatever the voices told him to, to let himself give way to a growing bloodlust bubbling under the surface that he knew was not his own – then something had snapped, and he was forced to regain control of his senses because Kusaka had attacked.

'There's nothing to snap out of!' Kusaka shouted back at him. His voice was hoarse and his pupils were dilated, and Hitsugaya had never felt so genuinely paralysed with fear before. 'I want- I need Hyorinmaru!'

He had been spared, he realised, because Kusaka had fallen first.

'No…' he whispered, catching Kusaka's attack with his own trembling blade. He needed to disarm him without hurting him, but how?

The next moment, a series of blows rained down upon him and, with much more effort than before, Hitsugaya deflected every single one. He was being pushed further and further back, and would soon be cornered if he did not strike back.

Kusaka pulled back, his body twisted like a spring so his sword was raised, poised high and wound up with torque for a powerful swing that would draw a diagonal arc from Hitsugaya's left shoulder down to his waist. They had practised this move countless times in the practice rooms, and Hitsugaya had never managed to effectively counter it. He would hold his right arm above his head, his sword angled downwards in a backhanded block and his knees bent low to absorb the impact, but ultimately his arm would give way and he wound up on the mat, technically dead and battle forfeited.

He wondered if Kusaka was cognisant enough to know what he was doing now, but brushed the thought away for later. Now, he needed to come up with something he had never done in their practice sessions before if he wanted to live long enough to bring Kusaka back to his senses.

Instead of crouching low, Hitsugaya stood his ground, his weight squared evenly on both feet and his sword centred in front of his torso in a double-handed grip. When Kusaka bore down on him, Hitsugaya was ready.

He met Kusaka's sword with his own, but instead of tensing up in a defensive stance, he let his right hand go and poured all his strength into the sword in his left hand. He threw his weight leftwards and pushed Kusaka's blade as far out as he could, drawing an immense arc until his left arm was flung far behind him and his body had twisted around with his right arm thrown forward as a counterbalance. Ice exploded forth from his own blade, lending strength to his strike and forcing Kusaka to retract his sword to a defensive stance. While Hitsugaya still had both feet still planted firmly on the ground, Kusaka stumbled and faltered to the side before catching himself only seconds before the ice from Hitsugaya's attack encased his sword and sword arm all the way up to the shoulder.

Terrified of what he had done, Hitsugaya wanted to rush forward, to shake Kusaka by the shoulders, to make sure he was fine, but as the ice crumbled and the mountains faded into the panelled wood that lined the walls of the Central 46's chamber, he found himself out of breath and trembling with an emotion he couldn't pinpoint.

For only a short moment, he thought he saw the twisted scowl fall from Kusaka's face, but it was all gone so quickly he was left wondering is he had imagined it. The last of the ice fell away to the ground, and Hitsugaya took an uncertain step forward. 'Kusaka, I-'

The words evaporated from his lips when dozens of soldiers dressed in the black uniform of the Gotei 13's Secret Force materialised between them, their swords poised for attack. Half of them formed a circle around Kusaka, and the other half stood between Hitsugaya and Kusaka like a barrier.

The soldier in the centre spoke to Kusaka, his back turned towards Hitsugaya. 'The outcome of the duel has been decided. The wielder of Hyorinmaru shall be Hitsugaya Toshiro,' he deadpanned.

With so many people in the room, Hitsugaya could no longer see Kusaka, but heard the clatter of ice as he managed to stammer, 'N-No! Wait, it's not over yet!'

The soldiers standing around Kusaka closed in, while the rest of them fell back, standing in neat ranks behind Hitsugaya so he now had a clear view of the horrifying scene unfolding before his eyes.

'The Central 46's decision is final,' the soldier said coldly, and raised his sword menacingly.

'No, give me another chance, please!' Kusaka's voice cracked, and he straightened his posture for battle.

Hitsugaya felt his heart wrench. 'Kusaka, wai-' he stepped forward, but was instantly halted when two of the soldiers behind him grabbed him by his arms and helf him back. The grip burned, and he tried to twist out of it, but they held fast and crossed their blades across his chest in warning.

Kusaka, on the other hand, received no such gentle treatment. In an instant, the soldiers closed in as one, and countless blades pierced him in the stomach.

Hitsugaya felt his stomach lurch, and could only watch in horror as Kusaka shook his attackers off with unseeing fury contorting his face.

'Why?' he asked, his voice was strangled and fading. 'Why do I have to die?' He held his sword close to his chest, as if it would stop them from taking it away from him.

The only warning Hitsugaya received was the tightening of the soldiers' hold on him, and the man standing before Kusaka disappeared as he stepped into a well-practised shunpo, and reappeared behind Kusaka, having dealt the finishing blow. Almost like a delayed effect, blood burst from his injuries, and Kusaka staggered to his knees, still clutching Hyorinmaru to his chest.

Bile rose in his throat as Hitsugaya felt his knees go weak. They didn't- he couldn't be gone- they couldn't have killed him. The soldiers restraining him held him up as he sagged and turned his face away from the atrocity that had just taken place.

With his final breaths, Kusaka gazed longingly at the shimmering blade in his hands and whispered, 'I- I swore to protect…' And with an air of grim finality, Hyorinmaru dissipated and he crumpled forward, with no one to catch his fall.

.

.

Hitsugaya wrestled himself out of the soldiers' hold on him, not caring that tears were pouring freely down his face. He dropped Hyorinmaru noisily onto the floor and rushed forward, stumbling as he fell to his knees by Kusaka.

No, no, no-

There was blood, so much blood everywhere – on the ground, on his clothes, on his hands. He held his trembling hands above the wound in Kusaka's shoulder and struggled to form the words for the healing spell in his numb mouth as he choked each breath. He tried to draw power for the spell but none came forward, the glow in his hands slowly dimming as he became aware of the warm, sticky sensation that coated his hands up to his forearms. The wound had only just begun to knit together, Kusaka's ragged breathing was growing quiet, and between his spinning head and his clenching stomach, Hitsugaya was sure he was about to be sick.

'Take them away,' he heard someone say, but his ears were ringing and it didn't quite feel like he was the one being addressed. His vision shook and the world spun around him, and it took him a second to remember that he was trying to heal. With nothing to steady his swaying balance, he took Kusaka's limp hand into his, wishing, hoping, praying for a pulse.

Strong arms reached under his arms and picked him up, dragging him away from the mess he was kneeling in. Another cool, almost cold, hand touched his forehead and he felt his energy drain away. With his consciousness rapidly deserting him, the last thing he remembered was his best friend's stiff hand sliding out of his bloody grasp before everything faded to black.


tbc


A/N: You won't believe how many times I edited, and how many typos I found each time. I'm sure I've missed like one or two or ten though. Review, please?