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                T o send him to the fifth barracks,  more particularly to Aizen’s office,  out of all the thirteen’s  squadrons to distribute reports that awaited to taste  freshly inked signatures was a cruel penalty he thought he did not warrant. -  He groans, marching like the disciplined soldier boy he was along the narrow length of a corridor favorably devoid of personages, a heap of documents ‘neath his pliable arms. Isshin must have been more upset towards him than he had anticipated for eating the last serving of his Manjus this morning.  -- What a puerile fool, he thought, they were merely luncheons; cheaply bought and promptly devoured goods. --  Anxiety, an abhorrent weight, began to expand within the inner crevices of his chest by the incoming event. He did not want to inhale the same oxygen as the brunet he could barely endure --  barely discern; felt an insecurity, out of raw longing, stifling him when facing the man who had it all when he had naught but orders. He reckons, however, that he’ll simply have to go through with this as quickly as he can. In and out. No chit-chat or eye contact. His operating feet abruptly ceases ‘fore a door. A liberated hand, with its fingers curled into the structure of a fist, came to knock at its opaque build. He swallows, coughs, poises himself, and then injects his attendance to the one he hopes is present so he did not have to remain here for an unknown duration and wait about like a pup waiting for its figure of superiority.

For; @ironfanged & @spiritedscript

         G ajeel’s decrepit voice, amid heart-shattering lamentations, conducted an insufferable imposition of affliction ‘pon the captain’s shoulders as the man, one who perpetually publicized arrogance and fervor strength, cradled his now passing confrere ‘gainst his person in weighty despair and seldom vulnerability. --  Lids, heavy with strain, have condescended as to entirely clandestine Hitsugaya’s sentimental resistance abbreviating. He was standing adjacent to a bulky boulder, endeavoring desperately to stifle the other’s screams.  Next to him, attended Levy in a form he aspired not to ever bear witness; optics, generally painted by the most illuminating of all vitalities, broaden in absolute disbelief and delicately petite fingers enclosed loosely, crinkling the coal-hued textiles, ‘pon the adolescent Shihakusho’s effortlessly accessible sleeve. She was notably trembling in place ... Startled by the spectacle ‘fore them yet held the knowledge of what had priorly transpired. She had died; drawn oxygen into her living lungs for the last time. Instantly and painlessly. --  Shielding the man that she so unconditionally loved. She swallows the lump lodged in her gullet and liberates her soon to be light of salvation, of deliverance, and advances, gradually with arms pressed ‘gainst her breath hitching chest, towards the emotionally - breaking individual and her fractured blood-stained body. --  As she does so, the militant, who refrains from desisting her, wordlessly observes. 

                          He watches her as her movements cease behind the Iron mage.                  He watches as she hesitantly arches down to align his cheek with her own.           He watches as she benevolently presses her cold lips ‘gainst his tear-stained skin   He watches. He watches. And watches until she issues to the other a whispering Goodbye.

           What she may not know is the plausibility that Gajeel may not have been able to hear her voice, little less been able to feel the traces of her affection that was bequeathed ‘pon his face ... For when one is capable of perceiving a Shinigami, it does not quite imply that they could additionally distinguish ordinary souls. -- Wiping away her tears, they would not refrain from falling alike an overflowing riverside, she returns to the captain’s flank. Directing him, with an inclination of her head, to follow her behind the boulder they utilized as temporary coverage. She then positions herself in a locality she deems appropriate; a field of newly - blossomed flowers. Donned in serenity and wholly accepting of her impromptu destiny. Ready to traverse over to the Soul society she’s learned so much about from the prodigy ‘fore her. The prodigy reflecting uncertainty. A feature contrary to his embittered disposition generated by the actuality that this will be the last time they will be facing one another eye to eye. That her smile will radiate round their environs with an emotion of jubilant familiarity ‘pon seeing him about Mongolia once she crosses ...  He’ll be naught but a fleeting memory. A foreigner of a once connection he’s pitifully allowed to disintegrate ‘neath his omnipresence. 

         “ I’m ready to go, Toshiro. “ she confidently states.  --  How strong she was, he thinks, withdrawing his Zanpaku-to to ultimately commence the ritual of Konso. “ Toshiro ... “ she pronounces his name again, albeit more worriedly, noting the singular tear threatening to fall from his left eye. She knows that he’s been keeping a front this entire time. Not desiring to show her any inkling of weakness. Of unprofessionalism. That deep within his crude exterior and conscientious regime maintained a palpitating heart who exceedingly aches for the well-being of others. Who involuntarily becomes appended to those he considers friends. She reaches a hand to him, coursing her thumb ‘neath his eye to wipe away a tear she’d rather not see. Not on him. “ It’ll be okay. --  This will not be the end. “ her whispers were so pacifying. “ My Friendship with you. With Gajeel and everyone else in Fairy Tail is not over. It’ll just have a new beginning, that’s all. We will meet again. So, please. Don’t look so sad. “ he mechanically tends to her palm with his touch-deprived cheek as she speaks. ---  Briefly nodding a tangible confirmation that he fully understands. Mere instances afterward, the Konso takes place and the surrounding expanse is once again overhauled by Gajeel’s grieving resonance. 

 IT WILL NOT BE THE END FOR US