Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach… yet… (: All credit goes to the epicly awesome Tite Kubo!
Author's note: I know, I know. I have a whole bunch of stuff that needs updating, and a requested one-shot to write, but I couldn't help myself! This idea popped into my head, and refused to leave. So, I HAD to write it. (: And publish it.
Anyways - why are all of my one-shots REALLY depressing? (: It's tragic, really. However, I will write a happy one… some time.
So. If you wanted to, you could possibly interpret Jushiro and Shunsui's relationship into something more (hehe), or even Jushiro and Kaien's. But, I didn't mean to make it seem like Jushiro and Kaien used to be in a relationship, but when I re-read the fic, I realised that people might. (: Long sentence is looong (: But whatever. Anyways, I think that Jushiro would have bene really torn up about Kaien's death, but would have to have put on a brave face. Neh, I'm rambling.
By the way, I changed the plot. I made it so that it was Jushiro who killed Kaien, not Rukia. I think that it added to the overall... depressing-ness. (:
Um, I've got nothing more to say, except: It took me freaking ages to upload this! My upload-y thing went all weird! But I managed! (:
Please, please, please review! (:
~Rainbow Fruit Loop x
~Not Alone~
The full moon shines brightly in the dark blue, cloudy night sky. The air is humid, foggy and miserable. It fits the atmosphere so very well.
Wind whips through his long, white, sweat-dampened hair.
He tries hard to not let the tears which glisten in his beautiful, deep brown eyes fall.
He must be brave.
But he is alone.
His chest feels tight, and it is becoming increasingly more difficult to breathe. He feels raw inside. It feels as though someone has mercilessly punched him in the stomach again, and again, and again. As though someone has thrust a sword deep into his chest. As though someone has ripped his heart out of his chest, and smashed it into a million tiny pieces.
And he feels angry. Angrier than he ever has before. He is angry at the Hollow who took his well-trusted, well-loved Lieutenant's life. He is angry at the world for being so insanely unfair. And… he is angry at himself for failing. For failing to protect those close to him.
He wants desperately to break something, to hit something, to yell at something. He wants to feel pain.
Anything to take his mind off the ever-growing ache in his heart.
And suddenly, the tears won't stop falling. They run down his pale face, leaving glistening trails in their wake.
He inhales the sweet air deeply, only to start coughing. He clamps his hands over his mouth, but, before he knows it, crimson blood is streaming through his fingers, and running down his arms.
I'm pathetic.
Due to a shooting, agonizing pain, he doubles over, and clutches at his chest. He can't breathe, and he can't stop shuddering.
He then collapses in a broken, bloody heap on the dusty ground in a mess of torn limbs and grubby white hair.
As his lungs burn with an intensity that he has never felt before, he wonders if he is dying.
Is this what feels like to die?
Am I going to die here?
Alone?
As he lies in the lonely darkness, struggling to breathe, silent sobs shake his frail body.
He wonders how he can still cry even though he can't breathe.
He then starts coughing again, his chest heaving with every gasp. Blood runs down his chin, and stains the tips of his hair scarlet.
He has a longing to stay lying down in the middle of the lonely, forgotten path, and to cry. To curl up into a ball and let the pain wash over him. To let the desire to close his eyes and never open them again take over.
But, of course, he doesn't.
And it's because of him. The only glimmer of light in his dark, dark world.
Shunsui…
So, instead of letting the excruciating pain control him, he takes a deep, shuddery breath, stands up on his unsteady legs, and carries on staggering down the dusty, forgotten path.
As he stumbles forwards, his mind is whirling with pictures of his Lieutenant.
He suddenly feels numb on the inside. He feels cold. He feels so very cold.
Everything is so cold, Kaien. Everything will be so cold without you.
You were like a star, Kaien. A bright, glowing, warm, happy star. The Thirteenth Division needed you.
I needed you.
But I have failed you, Kaien. And I am truly, truly sorry.
I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you when you needed me to.
I'm sorry that you fought for your pride and lost.
I'm sorry that you won't ever be able to see the pretty flowers blooming in the spring, the moonlight shining on a shimmering lake, or the sun setting - turning the sky pink, and red, and orange and gold again.
I'm sorry that you will miss this world's stunning beauty.
I'm sorry that I never told you how much I cared for you as my Lieutenant. How much I trusted you. How much I appreciated everything that you did for me when I was too weak to do it myself.
I'm so sorry, Kaien… I'm so sorry to see you go.
Suddenly, all of his feelings of anger disappear.
Instead, he is left with agony. Despair. Heartache. Misery.
Kaien…
My Kaien.
Each step is becoming more of a challenge. It takes all of his willpower to move forward. He is both physically and mentally shattered.
As he walks, his mind is flooded with gruesome images of his Lieutenant's bloody body. It makes him feel physically sick.
And as he walks, he remembers the emotions he felt a few minutes ago.
He doesn't want to forget.
He doesn't want to forget the anguish he felt when he realised that, in order to kill the Hollow possessing Kaien's body, he would have to kill Kaien himself.
He doesn't want to forget the pain he felt when he slashed through Kaien's body with his sword, and saw the crimson blood splattering the ground.
And… he doesn't want to forget the absolute fear he felt when he suddenly started coughing. When his lungs started burning, and he realised that he wasn't going to be able to continue the fight.
The horrible realisation that he had failed.
He doesn't want to forget… because he needs to remember.
He needs to remember Kaien.
And remembering Kaien means remembering everything, no matter how painful it may be.
The crystal clear tears are still running down his face, and he wonders if they will ever stop.
Probably not…
He looks upwards. The sky is dark, and the clouds are miserable. The trees are swaying gently in the soft wind.
But there are no sounds.
He feels alone. Completely and utterly alone.
But then, in the light provided by the radiant moon, he sees the silhouette of a man slowly walking towards him.
It is as though the man appeared out of thin air.
But he believes that fate isn't that kind.
Unable to believe it in his exhausted state, he stumbles forwards, reaching out for the man walking towards him.
He is surprised - yet not afraid - when his pale, shaking hands make contact with the figure.
He knows who it is immediately.
The sweetly alluring smell of sake, flower petals and cinnamon is a give-away.
Shunsui…
Without saying anything, or asking for an explanation, Shunsui pulls him into a gentle hug.
Desperately, he clings to Shunsui's robes. He buries his face in Shunsui's chest, and closes his tired eyes. He allows all of the emotions that he is feeling to wash over him, and to consume him.
His body is shaking again, and he is crying - although this time, the tears are bittersweet.
His tears are bittersweet even though mere minutes ago, he witnessed his Lieutenant's violent, bloody death. His tears are bittersweet even though it feels as though his lungs are on fire, and it is a struggle to breathe. His tears are bittersweet even though it feels as though a part of him has died.
His tears are bittersweet for he is in the arms of someone he cares for, someone he trusts, someone he loves.
His tears are bittersweet for he realises that he is not alone.
Even in his darkest hour, Jūshirō Ukitake is not alone.
And he never will be.