Scatter

“No need, captain Hitsugaya.”

Byakuya let go off his arm to sneak it around his back, then swiftly bent down to gather up his legs. One arm supporting his back, the other hooked under his knees, he rose up, Hitsugaya safely in his arms.

“I won’t just leave you here. This is a battlefield.” It was a lame explanation for something that Byakuya wouldn’t have done for anyone except Rukia. And Renji, perhaps. Certainly for nobody he didn’t care about.

Still, Byakuya played it down, like it was not an issue at all. Despite his added height, Hitsugaya weighed very little. Certainly less than Renji and he had been carrying both him and Rukia earlier. He could handle a feather like Hitsugaya Toshiro.

“Do not be embarrassed. You would have done the same for me.” He said as he began walking, precious package in his arms.

“Why would I be embarrassed?” Being carried around like a damsel in distress. Oh no. What could possibly be embarrassing about that? Can’t you just sling me under your arm like Abarai and your sister?

Judging by the reiatsu around them, they had either minutes or so before the end of everything, probably, so he could die with the knowledge that no one else would ever know. Besides, after what he and Byakuya (and Kenpachi, more or less) had accomplished, he really couldn’t find any more energy to think of how things looked right now.

Byakuya’s chin was just about the limit of how far he’d raise his gaze.

“…I’m glad the royal guard fixed you up. Bringing down that quincy…it would have been impossible without you.”

“Your contribution was invaluable. Though your bankai’s evolution came as a surprise for everyone involved.” He looked down, aiming to glance at his face, but his eyes strayed a little beyond and onto where the wet white jacket was open and clinging to pale skin.

“You acquired an adult form of yourself.” He stated the obvious.

Did Hitsugaya remember their conversation after Byakuya’s disgraceful defeat? It almost seemed like he didn’t, and perhaps that was good. For now. It just meant he had to find a situation to tell him again, difficult without death nearby.

It was indeed strange. Perhaps even more so than the original turning into an older self to use his bankai to its full potential.

Byakuya continued to steady him, despite the water dripping off of him that quickly soaked his sleeve. His gaze traveled briefly over Hitsugaya’s clothing, sopping wet and clinging to his taller form. Rather well-shaped, Byakuya found, but he would keep that to himself in order to preserve his dignity.

“I suppose you are in need for nourishment to replenish your reiatsu. Can you walk with me?” If not, well, then he wouldn’t be the first man today that Byakuya carried around for their own good.

“I…” Toshiro checked in with the rest of his body. It didn’t feel inclined to answer him positively, and he was only mildly humiliated by it. He was too tired to feel much shame about having pushed himself too hard.

“No. You can just leave me here. I’ll be fine, Kuchiki.”

Byakuya let go off his arm to sneak it around his back, then swiftly bent down to gather up his legs. One arm supporting his back, the other hooked under his knees, he rose up, Hitsugaya safely in his arms.

“I won’t just leave you here. This is a battlefield.” It was a lame explanation for something that Byakuya wouldn’t have done for anyone except Rukia. And Renji, perhaps. Certainly for nobody he didn’t care about.

Still, Byakuya played it down, like it was not an issue at all. Despite his added height, Hitsugaya weighed very little. Certainly less than Renji and he had been carrying both him and Rukia earlier. He could handle a feather like Hitsugaya Toshiro.

Byakuya could see it in his leap down that he was lacking strength to land properly. He had fought admirably. It wouldn’t do to allow him to disgrace himself and his actions now by crumbling to the ground.

Shunpo brought him to the area where Hitsugaya would land. When he did, Byakuya caught his arm, holding him up, providing unbidden support.

His grey eyes were on his fellow captain, scanning him from close up now. Hitsugaya was taller than him in this form, his shoulders broader and his legs a bit longer. The ice in his eyes was the same though.

“Leave bankai, captain Hitsugaya. It appears to be draining.”

“I am.” 

Toshiro held up an arm, sodden by icy water that continued to drip down. His bankai had or was expiring, on its own. With his reiatsu exhausted for the moment, he really should be changing back soon, but his body made no efforts to shrink down. 

Byakuya continued to steady him, despite the water dripping off of him that quickly soaked his sleeve. His gaze traveled briefly over Hitsugaya’s clothing, sopping wet and clinging to his taller form. Rather well-shaped, Byakuya found, but he would keep that to himself in order to preserve his dignity.

Byakuya watched him from a distance, but even like this he could see the exhaustion on his face. His very much adult face.

How strange to see that, the childlike roundness of his cheeks gone and his fine features stretched into a truly handsome young man. Byakuya could admire beauty when he saw it, and this was definitely one of those occasions.

“Do you require assistance?” He called once he had his fellow captain’s attention.

“No.”

Yes, but he wasn’t going to confess so readily to weakness. His bankai didn’t feel like it had the same power anymore, ice dripping, melting away from him slowly, but his body wasn’t collapsing the familiar, usual shape.

Shunpo brought him to the area where Hitsugaya would land. When he did, Byakuya caught his arm, holding him up, providing unbidden support.

His grey eyes were on his fellow captain, scanning him from close up now. Hitsugaya was taller than him in this form, his shoulders broader and his legs a bit longer. The ice in his eyes was the same though.

Starter for @winterherz

Around him, rubble and pieces of what had once been buildings formed large piles. Some parts of them were still standing, like bare bones sticking out in the landscape. The destruction caused by the fight with Gerard was overwhelming, once you had time to put your mind to it.

Byakuya, in the middle of it, had little time for it, if any at all. The ice that had shattered the quincy was glinting in the sun, leading the gaze up to the shinigami who wielded it.

Hitsugaya Toshiro was a sight to behold, reigning supreme, even after the surprising end of the battle. Gerard had disintegrated only moments ago, and here they were, in utter silence, as if nothing had ever disrupted the peace.

“Captain Hitsugaya.”

He called, eager to call his name but suddenly unsure what to say next. If no other apocalypse dawned upon them right now, this would be the first time for them to speak in private since Byakuya’s healing and training with the Royal Guard.

It didn’t feel like it had truly been the end. Surely, somewhere across the vastness of this battlefield they once called home, Kurosaki was doing the impossible.

Really, their fate was in his hands once again. How irritating. 

His body still clung to the bankai form. Grown, lanky, unfamiliar. He definitely wasn’t a fan of it. If this was the body that his power required, he’d have to relearn how to wield it. Still, he’d hold onto this form a little longer. Who knew if they were truly done fighting here.

Hearing his name had him glance over at the captain that had made the final defeat of the goliath possible.

“Kuchiki.”

How strange to see that, the childlike roundness of his cheeks gone and his fine features stretched into a truly handsome young man. Byakuya could admire beauty when he saw it, and this was definitely one of those occasions.

Speaking got more difficult with every moment that passed. When Toshiro’s hand landed on his face, he drew another ragged breath. His head felt heavy and the hand against his cheek offered welcome support when he leaned it into Toshiro’s palm. He heard the fear in his voice and found regret in him that it had to be like this. It tore on his heart, but it would not stop him from continuing.

There wasn’t much time left for him and Toshiro had to learn about a second matter still.

“Second… matter…” He brought out and now his croaked voice had a distinctly wet tone to it which went with the urge to cough. An urge he could not satisfy as his body was too weak to cramp up for it. No matter. Coughing was not important, speaking was.

“I…” Byakuya’s voice failed him. When he breathed, it made a rattling noise in his head, a strange, unsettling sort of sound in the perpetual silence around them. As if the world waited with baited breath to allow Toshiro and him a moment of peace and truth.

“A piece… of me…” Byakuya’s fingers clenched around his arm and pulled, weakly. The gesture was incomplete, but he was too weak to move any further, so he would have to describe it. HIs voice was barely louder than his shallow breath by now. “My heart… It has been yours for… for a long time.”

Toshiro didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if he could say anything that would alleviate the terribly dreadful feeling in his chest that warred with the smallest thread of elation. To know Byakuya felt so strongly was flattering, deeply so, but he’d chosen a terrible moment to confess to that truth. Right as he was slipping through Toshiro’s fingers, when Toshiro was powerless to save him. 

Why was he always too weak to save those he cared for most?

When Toshiro spoke again, his voice was calm and low, more determined than before.

He’d said everything that needed to be said and his body seemed to know that. Whatever strength had been left in him, seeped out of him quickly, following the blood that dripped thickly from the wall surrounding him. Byakuya tried to look at him one last time. Toshiro’s face came into view, his eyebrows drawn together, his teal eyes filled with despair.

It wasn’t what he wanted to see last. He wanted to see him happy, perhaps even with one of those rare smiles on him. Byakuya’s eyes fell close again and he was glad for his memory supplying him with images of the soft little smiles Toshiro was capable of when they were in private.

It tugged on Byakuya’s lips yet again, the memory, the fact that Toshiro was apologising for something he wasn’t really at fault for.

He remembered it crystal clear, even more so now that his life as a shinigami was coming to an end. Toshiro being here with him now, once the little lost soul, now a powerful shinigami himself, it completed the picture. Byakuya remembered how he’d been unable to forget the drowned boy’s soul, not only because he had promised, but because he had left a lasting impression on him, shaped him in his task, made him learn how it felt to like someone, to wish for their presence.

Which led automatically to the second matter he had to tell him about.

“You… you gave me… so much.” Byakuya brought out, his tongue very heavy, but he forced it to form words regardless. “A challenge, a… reason. My…”

“My first love.”

At first, Toshiro considered having simply misheard. Byakuya’s speech was low, slow and terribly impeded, but those were simple excuses. He’d heard every word, even if he couldn’t quite grasp the meaning.

His first…?

Was this why he’d never told Toshiro about the unknown history between them? Was this the secret as to how their friendship, strange and welcomed as it had been, came to be? 

It was too much, and not enough. Byakuya should have told him this, long before now, but anger was the last emotion Toshiro could summon right now. Bafflement, confusion and regret, along with a none too subtle wave of anguished fear. How he hated that feeling, and how often he’d felt it before. 

For a prodigy, Toshiro understood things far too slowly, only grasping the truth as it bled through his fingers. How long had they been sharing knowing looks and peaceful silence after meetings? How long had they shared amiable conversations and tea? 

Far too long for Byakuya to be keeping such secrets.

Thoughtlessly, his hand landed on a dirty face, palm against the caked blood on Byakuya’s cheek.

There wasn’t much time left for him and Toshiro had to learn about a second matter still.

“Second... matter...” He brought out and now his croaked voice had a distinctly wet tone to it which went with the urge to cough. An urge he could not satisfy as his body was too weak to cramp up for it. No matter. Coughing was not important, speaking was.

“I...” Byakuya’s voice failed him. When he breathed, it made a rattling noise in his head, a strange, unsettling sort of sound in the perpetual silence around them. As if the world waited with baited breath to allow Toshiro and him a moment of peace and truth.

There wasn’t much that Toshiro could demand of it that Byakuya wouldn’t do. He’d known that for a long time, but hidden it away, sealed it inside of him. But now, at the end, there wasn’t really any reason for keeping it away from him. Not that he had the strength to, anyway. He’d already broken etiquette by calling him by his first name in public.

Byakuya focused on moving his arm, but only succeeded in reaching out with his fingers. They found the course material of his fellow captain’s haori and held on, a soft tug to the fabric.

Next, he tried to crack his eyes open again. Toshiro’s worried face swam into vision, but he couldn’t force his eyelids apart more than a little bit. It would have to do.

“There’s… two matters. One…”

Speaking was hard, there was barely enough air in his lungs to make it happen, but Byakuya forced the issue. Toshiro needed to know both of these things. He would not pass away before he hadn’t heard them.

“Do you… remember when I told you about… my first soul. The little boy, the lake, the lantern festival…” Byakuya trailed off in order to take a few wheezing breaths, just so he could continue. There wasn’t really any way he could tell the story again, not now, so he hoped that Toshiro would remember, put all of his faith in his memory.

“That soul… was you.”

Of course Toshiro remembered. If not for the content of the story, but the meaning it held to Byakuya. He remembered the night he’d heard this tale about a young Kuchiki’s first soul burial. A drowned, little boy, a hollow, a lantern festival. It had all left an impression that forged Byakuya’s view on being a shinigami for his own sense of pride, not just that of his family.

“That brat that you had to chase?” he muttered. His arm was grasped weakly by Byakuya’s hand, leaving a red smear on the dirty white of his haori. 

To think that Byakuya had known, all this time, and never mentioned a word of it…Toshiro had never remembered his life, or death, nothing before he began anew in Soul Society.

What else did Byakuya know? What else had he never told him? This wasn’t the time to make him speak, but they might never get another chance, and both of them were painfully aware of it.

Toshiro moved his other hand to briefly rest his fingers on top of Byakuya’s.

He remembered it crystal clear, even more so now that his life as a shinigami was coming to an end. Toshiro being here with him now, once the little lost soul, now a powerful shinigami himself, it completed the picture. Byakuya remembered how he’d been unable to forget the drowned boy’s soul, not only because he had promised, but because he had left a lasting impression on him, shaped him in his task, made him learn how it felt to like someone, to wish for their presence.

Which led automatically to the second matter he had to tell him about.

“You... you gave me... so much.” Byakuya brought out, his tongue very heavy, but he forced it to form words regardless. “A challenge, a... reason. My...”

Byakuya didn’t respond to the ice. He did not see it, he could not feel it, so he focused on the only good thing left to feel, Toshiro’s reiatsu. So close, so familiar, so dear to him.

Oh, and his voice. When he spoke, asked him if he could hear, Byakuya was bound to answer. Hitsugaya Toshiro had always had that effect on him and even now, that had not changed.

Speaking was a gargantuan task in itself, even only forcing his lips apart, sticky and crusty with blood as they were. But this was Toshiro and he deserved to hear what Byakuya had to say, deserved everything in this one moment he still had.

“To… shiro.” He brought out, his voice as broken as his body.

He’d ignore the breach of their agreed-upon formality. It hardly mattered in the face of all this. Toshiro almost wished that Byakuya had not made the effort to speak at all, for every second of it seemed to propel him closer to his end.

“I’ve sent for help. Unohana will…will save you. She’s healed worse,” she decidedly had not, there was barely enough of Byakuya left in one piece to heal, but Toshiro wouldn’t give up hope now. He’d managed to keep the other captain’s insides from sliding out, but that wouldn’t do much to prolong the time he had left.

Toshiro moved closer, so that any effort of speaking might be easier for Byakuya. He touched the torn haori, the blood, found an arm beneath the mess of it. No, he really couldn’t move him, he’d probably break into pieces. Byakuya looked so terribly fragile, a breath away from death, and still, he managed more composure than the sorry state of Toshiro’s face. 

“Just…hang on. Please.”

They couldn’t afford to lose another captain. Soul Society couldn’t afford to lose another of its staunch defenders.

Byakuya focused on moving his arm, but only succeeded in reaching out with his fingers. They found the course material of his fellow captain’s haori and held on, a soft tug to the fabric.

Next, he tried to crack his eyes open again. Toshiro’s worried face swam into vision, but he couldn’t force his eyelids apart more than a little bit. It would have to do.

“There’s... two matters. One...”

Speaking was hard, there was barely enough air in his lungs to make it happen, but Byakuya forced the issue. Toshiro needed to know both of these things. He would not pass away before he hadn’t heard them.

“Do you... remember when I told you about... my first soul. The little boy, the lake, the lantern festival...” Byakuya trailed off in order to take a few wheezing breaths, just so he could continue. There wasn’t really any way he could tell the story again, not now, so he hoped that Toshiro would remember, put all of his faith in his memory.

The immeasurable pain had faded away the moment his body had given up, leaving him in a sort of blissful physical state that shouldn’t be possible, not with his insides out and his blood smeared across the crater the impact had left in the wall. There were few things Byakuya could still sense. The unspeakable shame of losing so miserably, being defeated by his own powers. It was disgrace brought to the Kuchiki name, the family’s head losing his prized blades and having them turned against him. Then there was his connection to his loyal zanpakuto, something that had always been there with him, through good and bad and was now severed, a tear in his very soul that ached deep inside him, more than he could explain. Byakuya hung where he was, unable to move, his vision swimming in and out of focus.

So this was death. The one thing they all dealt with, their everyday business and now it was finally here. Byakuya had never wished himself into the position of a human, had never envied them, but the thought that someone would come to guide you if you were lost after your passing seemed very comforting right now.

And then he could sense something else, vaguely, a presence near him and perhaps that one wish of his had come true after all and someone was coming for him to guide him through his last moments.

When he heard a familiar voice, full of concern, but nonetheless dear to him, it tugged on Byakuya’s bloody lips and brought him to smile weakly.

So things would come to a full circle. How utterly fitting that it would be Hitsugaya Toshiro to be with him like this.

As soon as Matsumoto had disappeared, Toshiro had come to his fellow captain’s side. Or rather, come as close as he could, respectfully. Abarai and Byakuya’s sister were here too, but they weren’t so close to death. It seemed entirely impossible a concept to grasp. 

Byakuya had been a captain before Toshiro even completed academy. Byakuya had been a constant fixture, throughout these many, troublesome years. Someone dependable, respectable, admirable. Someone who couldn’t just die and be gone. He suspected that Byakuya Kuchiki wouldn’t be the only casualty of this assault.

But he was the most unacceptable one. Toshiro felt his insides as frozen and for once, it wasn’t a comforting sensation.

Oh, and his voice. When he spoke, asked him if he could hear, Byakuya was bound to answer. Hitsugaya Toshiro had always had that effect on him and even now, that had not changed.

Speaking was a gargantuan task in itself, even only forcing his lips apart, sticky and crusty with blood as they were. But this was Toshiro and he deserved to hear what Byakuya had to say, deserved everything in this one moment he still had.

Gruesome.

That was the only way to describe the scene before them. Among the debris and destruction, it wasn’t difficult to miss that someone was still alive beneath the spray and splatter of blood. 

Although alive was a generous term for what Byakuya looked like. There was more blood on the wall than inside of his ragged body. The only thing keeping him upright was the fact that he’d been blasted into this former wall. His chest barely rose at all, and his reiatsu was draining away like filthy water down a drain. 

Pitiful, terrible, haunting. That wasn’t how someone bearing the Kuchiki name should be, or die.

Toshiro clambered over the mess.

So this was death. The one thing they all dealt with, their everyday business and now it was finally here. Byakuya had never wished himself into the position of a human, had never envied them, but the thought that someone would come to guide you if you were lost after your passing seemed very comforting right now.

And then he could sense something else, vaguely, a presence near him and perhaps that one wish of his had come true after all and someone was coming for him to guide him through his last moments.

When he heard a familiar voice, full of concern, but nonetheless dear to him, it tugged on Byakuya’s bloody lips and brought him to smile weakly.