The man that wished for his own sister's death lays in a white bed. He's white himself too. White is his nightgown and white are the bandages underneath. White and vulnerable is his bloodless face. White are his slender hands that lay lonely in the crumpled bed sheets.
The man that wished for his own sister's death breathes slowly, evenly, but Renji knows that he's anything but peaceful. He can see that in the wrinkles that run through his white brow like sudden twitches. He can see that in his blue eyelids and black lashes that flutter, rustled by uneasy dreams like curtains moving in the wind.
The man that wished for his own sister's death is now close to dying himself. His spiritual power is weak and crumbling. The blade of the sword that lays near his bed is cracked and darkened. There is silence all around, covering everything like a vast, heavy bank of snow. If this man was to die now, he would die alone. His death would go unnoticed. He would perish as a weak and beaten man, laying alone in a white room. Renji stands over him and watches him from above, but no satisfaction comes to him from that. Time passes unnoticed.
Sometimes medics in white uniforms come to the white room. Renji goes out of their way and watches their soft, blank movements in silence. Sometimes they take the bandages off. In these moments the man that wished for his own sister's death is completely bare before his eyes. His secrets spill out of the unhealed wounds like pus. Renji watches those wounds and measures their value. The one left by the sword of Ichimaru Gin lures his eyes the most. This wound's value is greatest. Renji looks at its pink, swollen edges and ponders. He was told by one of the medics in white uniforms that the blade had pierced the lung. Few inches to the right and the blade would pierce the heart. The machines that stand around the bed are humming. Renji ponders.
The man that wished for his sister's death, captain Byakuya Kuchiki, lays in a white bed. Renji Abarai, his lieutenant, sits next to the bed and waits. The white room is still silent. Renji watches the sword that lays next to the bed. The cracks on the blade are healing like scratches on skin. Just a while longer and this sword will be able to tear the flesh to shreds again, just like it's torn his flesh. Renji's sword is silent. The thought of vengeance fades away. It pales.
They look at each other in silence. His captain's eyes are dark and weary. The man that wished for his own sister's death now mumbles her name with a weak, hoarse voice. His white brow is furrowed and clammy with sweat. The white hands that lay on the bed sheets are weak and helpless. Sudden rage soars in Renji's chest. The accusation almost spills from his mouth, fierce and full of insult, but finally he says nothing. His rage fades away, leaving only a dull burn in his chest. Renji tells his captain that his sister is safe. The captain's dark eyes close again. Renji finds out that he has clenched his fists so hard that his skin became white. He slowly unclenches them. The silence is ringing in his ears. It's loud and haunting.
Byakuya Kuchiki, the captain of the 6th division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, the heir to the noble Kuchiki family, needs help to sit up and drink some water. Renji watches his white hands. They tremble with strain to hold a glass of water and he knows that he could feel contempt right now, but he doesn't. He puts the glass away to the white table and sits back down next to the bed. His captain is not looking him in the eyes. Renji imagines that the silence falls from the ceiling of the white room like snow. White banks of silence cover the bed and the chair he's sitting on. The white room seems endlessly enormous.
The captain's white hand clasped in Rukia's tiny ones seems even weaker and more fragile. Rukia seems to think so too, because she clasps it tighter, covers it with her hands as if she wants to protect it. Renji watches in silence. His captain sleeps a solid, hospital dream. He doesn't know that the sister he protected is here. He doesn't know that she holds his hand. He cannot see her sad, gentle eyes that wander across his white, gaunt face. Renji thinks about Ichimaru Gin's sword. A few inches to the right and the blade would pierce the heart. That's what Renji heard from the medics in white uniforms.
The blade that lays next to the bed shines in the sunlight. It is bright and unblemished. The humming machines fell silent and the silence became even louder. The captain's white hands are strong and gracious again. They are able to lift the glass of water by themselves. They don't need any help from Renji's coarse hands anymore. Even if so, he does not leave. He and his captain look at each other from either side of the white room. The time passes unnoticed.
The captain expects disdain or hate from him. He asks him about it with a quiet, emotionless voice. He looks at him. His gaze is heavy and still. Renji searches for the disdain inside himself, but he cannot find it. He cannot find the rage either. It's empty where it once was. Renji searches for words to tell his captain that, but they're lost on him too. He thinks of Rukia and the sword of Ichimaru Gin that did not reach her. A few inches to the right and the blade would pierce his captain's heart. His captain could have perished on the Sougyoku hill. Would it be for the better? Renji ponders if he would have wanted him to die. If it would have satisfied him. He thinks of it and feels hollow.
The man that wished for his own sister's death leaves the white room. Renji follows him through the white corridors and thinks that it's not the man that wishes for his sister's death anymore. He thinks that he himself doesn't want this man to die anymore. They both are different men now. Renji Abarai, the lieutenant of the 6th division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, goes out into the sun. He looks at his captain, who is walking in front of him. Byakuya Kuchiki is proud and gracious. A vast, overwhelming power emanates from him. Renji listens to this power with both envy and respect. He wants to reach its height and then climb higher. The captain's white scarf waves softly in the wind. They both are different men now, but not everything has changed. Renji squints his eyes in the bright morning sun and makes a step forward.