Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ For The Love of a Friend ❯ Friend Forfeited ( Chapter 22 )

Tite Kubo owns Bleach and the characters depicted therein. The characters in this story are not mine.

 

Friend Forfeited

 

Without looking at Soi, Toshiro rolled over to the edge of the bed and got to his feet as he fastened his clothes. If he stayed in the room with her any longer he'd make love to her and did not want to take that step, not now. She had provided the consolation and now the frenzy was passed he wanted the love and the care that he'd sought from her in the past but never received. Nor had he admitted that was what he was craving. The woman who had sex with him last night had almost seemed to like him and he wanted her. Remaining in Soi's vicinity in his current state of mind would mean the vulnerability he was feeling might cause him to say or do something he'd regret. Having already done that, more than once, he didn't wish to repeat his earlier errors.

 

The pulsing of Zaraki's reiatsu was disturbing and he focused on that instead. Stretching his senses he could very faintly feel Matsumoto's spirit pressure and was relieved that she was still alive. One odd thing was even though it was so weak it seemed to be pulsing in time with that of her husbands, not reaching the peaks, but now he could see the reason he'd had difficulty sensing her. The 11th Division Captain's reiatsu was masking hers. He'd never previously noticed that the flow was so similar. Similar? No, they were the same and it made him wonder if they had always been synchronised. For a bloodcurdling moment he felt Matsumoto's reiatsu fail, and he stopped breathing, believing that she had lost the fight to live. Incredibly he felt a surge in Zaraki's that seemed to pull Matsumoto's with it, as though he was forcing her to stay alive, either consciously or unconsciously. As her reiatsu weakly responded he breathed again.

 

That momentary sensing permitted him to grasp the depth of her injuries. Her spleen was destroyed as were her gall bladder and pancreas. Her heart had been so badly damaged that it was a miracle that it continued to beat and many of her muscles had been torn or slashed. The extensive damage was not wrought purely with hands and fists. Kido had been employed to punish Matsumoto with calculated brutality. Sustaining those injuries she could not survive. Even a skilled a healer like Retsu would have no method to repair organs that were flattened into distorted shapes. Within minutes, or hours, his lieutenant would die.

 

He broke the connection, fearing to sense her last moment, but he could not ignore the other evidence of her continued life in the overpowering pressure of Zaraki's reiatsu.

 

Without thinking what he was doing he turned and looked at Soi, seeking reassurance. Her calm expression gave no indication of her thoughts. “She's still alive,” Soi said without opening her eyes, her voice loud in the silence of the room.

 

“How do you know?” he asked as he bit back the “and why do you care?”

 

“Zaraki's energy is still surging, but there is a modicum of restraint there. She's very bad, Toshiro.”

 

“I know that. Why are you telling me? I thought you were meant to be consoling me,” he told her but his words were heavy, without the lightness or anger he felt he should be exhibiting. His throat felt rough and he cleared his throat after he spoke.

 

“I did. I am. You're an idiot,” she said in a bored voice. He turned and saw that she had turned over and her back was facing him. From what he could tell she had adjusted her clothing also.

 

The insult made him feel almost like she'd slapped him. She knew his friend was dying and then she called him an idiot. Normally that wouldn't have mattered, however he was feeling exposed to her. Hotly, he said something he hoped would hurt her.

 

“You're right. I'm an idiot to have ever trusted you.”

 

“Your choice Toshiro,” her tone had barely changed and it seemed that she didn't care what he said. “But the sex was good. It's a pity it's the last time.”

 

His mouth remained open from when he was going to reply to her. Had she really said that? But she'd said it was the last time more than once before and they'd had sex again. One time she might mean it, though it had seemed pretty certain that she had meant it in the past. This time she had chosen to follow him and `console' him. He knew he could not mention what occurred last night. It hadn't happened. For some reason he knew that speaking about it to her, or anyone, could only end in trouble.

 

“Like last time was the last time?” He still felt the need to mock her slightly.

 

She gave him a cool look. “Whenever I decide it's the last time, it will be.”

 

That didn't really provide and answer and opened the door for hope. She played with his emotions too readily and he grew tired of it. “What's the real reason you came here?”

 

“One captain going ballistic is bad enough. We can't afford to have two acting like madmen,” was her answer.

 

What was she saying? “You fucked me because you didn't want me to go off the edge when, I mean if, Matsumoto dies,” he said through clenched teeth. Artic fury flooded him. Was this her idea, or had someone told her to do this? Was she selling her sexual services now? She'd used him before, for whatever reason and now again he was being manipulated to match her aims.

 

Soi sat up and faced him. Without meaning to his gaze raked her body and he remembered how she looked naked. Her words affected him even more as she announced with little feeling: “Your lieutenant is dying. I won't try to pretty up the truth. When she dies Kenpachi will go insane. In looking at the situation, I decided it would possibly affect you in the same manner. I thought if I fucked you it would remove the edge. If you're angry, but not distraught and he is crazed, you can fight him, pacify him, or at least prevent him from killing everyone.”

 

It was clear that Soi remembered the earlier threat made by Zaraki. Reeling from the words Toshiro was silent. It was hard for him to accept that she had unfeelingly announced that Matsumoto would die. From every interaction with her, he knew she was direct and would say what was on her mind, without caring how the words would affect the other person. Or perhaps she selected those words that would cause the most effect in order to convey her point. Was she deliberately trying to infuriate him? She was succeeding, all too well. Through lips that seemed to be nearly incapable of movement he stated: “Matsumoto will not die. You said before that she wouldn't die and now you say she will.”

 

The subtle movement of her shoulders was not lost. She shrugged as if the whole matter was unimportant to her and she didn't think it should matter to him. It crossed his mind to question how she would feel if her lieutenant was dying, but remembering her easy dismissal of his abilities he doubted she would care. Possibly she would be relieved, even pleased, if she found a need to replace him.

 

“I could feel it when you sensed her injuries. She nearly died then,” Soi was dispassionate. “You have to contain Kenpachi. You have the most chance. The old man will do nothing.”

 

He closed his eyes and the fingers of one hand pushed at his forehead as he tried to think it through. Everyone, except him and Zaraki and maybe Retsu, thought Matsumoto might die, or so it seemed. It wasn't correct. He wouldn't let her die. She had to help him with Momo, mock him, make him smile and sleep on his couch when he needed her help. Without another word he decided to go to 4th Division and order that he see Matsumoto and demand that no effort should be spared in saving her. As he moved toward the door, Soi's voice stopped him.

 

“There's no point in going to 4th Division,” Soi said as if she guessed his intention. “If I judge the situation, they're trying to ease Kenpachi out right now so they can concentrate on trying to heal your lieutenant and they won't want another captain trying to tell them what to do. Retsu requested I post the Special Forces around 4th Division to deter any visitors, even captains.”

 

Turning, he glared at her. “I'm Matsumoto's Captain. They can't stop me.” No one had the authority to keep a captain from his lieutenant. He didn't care how many members of the Special Forces he had to overcome.

 

Again he felt a powerful surge of reiatsu from Zaraki and on checking it was obvious that Matsumoto had again been close to death. His fury mounted as his inability to do anything was impressed upon him. He wanted to be there, to try to help. If she was going to die he wanted to thank her and then stipulate that as he was her Captain she must continue to live. Sometimes she obeyed his direct orders. He knew he was fooling himself.

 

“That was close,” Soi said reflectively. Her words proved that she was still reading him and that didn't soothe him.

 

Needing to make her hurt just once he spoke without thinking about what he was saying or the consequences. “I don't need a commentary on the near death of my lieutenant, Captain Fong. I know you wouldn't give a shit if your lieutenant died, but I care about mine. You believe you loved Yoruichi,” ignoring her outraged gasp he continued. “From what I've seen, I doubt it. There's no room in your life for love or even friendship. Loving someone can hurt and I love y…Matsumoto. You'll never understand.”

 

Frigging hell. He'd nearly told her he loved her. In order to distract her from the near fatal admission he finished, “The arrangement is over. Try practising on a banana to see if you can touch it without bruising it before you choose another lover. At least you won't have to wait for it to be ready to use.” Slamming out of the room he breathed a heavy sigh. If he thought about it, he might regret what he'd said, but why bother even thinking about it? It wasn't important.

 

Desperately he sought out Shunsui. He tried to sense him, but it was hard. The man might be able to talk to Isane and get an update or even get him into the room with Matsumoto so he could try to help.

 

Vaguely he remembered watching some stupid thing while he was in the human world about freezing people who were near death until a cure could be found. If he could freeze Matsumoto it might keep her alive longer, and provide Retsu with a chance to find a remedy. He'd only used the technique on enemies before, but it could have a practical application. Freeze her enough to suspend her life. Would it work? He'd never tried anything on a friend before and was uncertain if it would work but he had to try. She would try anything, over and over to help.

 

He loved her.

 

Not Soi, Matsumoto.

 

He loved his lieutenant.

 

Not that pain in his chest love that he experienced when he thought about Soi, but that same sort of ache he'd suffered when he tried to help Momo. A desire to protect and care for the woman and make certain she was safe. The feeling was strong as if she was in some way connected to him.

 

Thinking about how his lieutenant had always treated him, it dawned on him how he truly felt toward Momo. He knew what these emotions meant. Both women were his family. He had grown up with Momo and while she was older than him she was like his younger sister. Bratty, silly and foolishly innocent her attractions for him were her naivety and loyalty. Too often she made the wrong decisions and needed guidance and even when she tried to pretend she was assured and in control, she was still a mess.

 

His lieutenant had been more than that, was more than that. For once, a female other than his grandmother had tried to protect and nurture him. Her gentle teasing, laziness and garbled confessions made him feel like she was older than him, which she was, but not like a mother. Mother's didn't provide descriptions of sex or offer to give demonstrations on how to kiss. Matsumoto was like an experienced older sister and now he knew how dear she was to him. Only recently he'd permitted her to enter into a marriage he thought was a mistake, but it wasn't. For some reason he believed Zaraki was the key to saving Matsumoto, but he didn't want to trust his instincts. It wasn't sensible to allow emotion to guide deeds or how he acted, and his actions had to count.

 

Maybe Shunsui could help. Seeing Matsumoto would help. Even though he knew she was still alive, barely still alive, he wanted to see her. He commenced searching, going over the rooves, through the streets where he saw people clustered around talking worriedly. Soul Society was crumbling around him and he didn't care. Soi only used him, one of his sisters was insane and the other was dying. What use was love when it only made him feel like this? Once he sorted all the mess out he would withdraw, reassess his boundaries and carefully erect his emotional walls. They had to be reinforced and steadied.

 

These feelings were preventing him from taking the sensible way. He would fix them and once all the issues were resolved there would be no further reason for him to allow these stray ideas to dominate his life. Once more he would make decisions based on intellect and observation. All the time he was reassessing his life he kept searching for Shunsui.

 

Eventually he located the captain in a seedy wine shop.

 

Entering the shop he immediately located the man. His hat was tilted on the back of his head and his skin was flushed as he poured another cup of sake down his throat. From the glazed look on his face it was not the first or even the third drink he'd consumed. Toshiro wondered if it was even possible for the man to make sense given his current state of inebriation.

 

“Hel, hic, Toshi. Shiddown. Havsh a cuppa, hic, shake. Lovely schtuff. Makes me forge' whatever it is I wanna forge'. Can't `member wha' it wash,” he burbled while pouring and drinking another cup of sake.

 

Toshiro looked around, expecting to see Shunsui's lieutenant nearby, frowning fiercely at her Captain, but she was absent. The man was sitting alone, with the sole intent of becoming as drunk as possible.

 

“Schent Nanao awa'. Tol' her to have a barfh,” the dark haired man said in a confidential manner and blinked at Toshiro slowly, his eyes closing longer than a blink. It seemed like he was falling asleep as his head slid to one side.

 

“You told the woman to go soak her head.” Until then Toshiro had not noticed that Iba was sitting near Captain Kyoraku, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes. The tone indicated a certain amount of displeasure. “That was cruel.”

 

“Nanao don't has feelingsh to hur'. Shesh a vrobot. Made in 12th Divisio' or China. I bet it's stamped on her arse. Wanna check for me? All womn are vrobots. Use you and chuck you.”

 

“You're offensive when you're drunk,” Iba snapped and began to get to his feet. He moved close to the seated captain, his hands forming into fists.

 

As angry as he felt, Toshiro tried to diffuse the tension. Shunsui was expressing his grief by getting drunk so he wouldn't remember, or because he liked drinking. But this was the worst Toshiro had seen him. “Iba, your captain is looking for you,” he lied.

 

“My Captain? But he told me I could have the night…. If you say so Captain Hitsugaya,” Iba said and with a further disgusted glance at Shunsui he left.

 

The possibility of using Isane to get to Matsumoto had faded nearly as soon as he saw the captain. No woman would want to indulge a man who could barely string his words together. Instead of being able to concentrate on his lieutenant, he was forced to make certain his fellow captain wasn't beaten up. The mood in the bar was becoming ugly, mostly because Shunsui was singing. He was singing loudly off key. His choice of song was also questionable and could be misunderstood. As he thought this, Shunsui got confused and again sang “I'm just a sweet transvestite from the uptight Seireitei.” He was freely changing the words and the song was becoming more offensive and irritating as he repeated the same words a number of times. Toshiro didn't want to know anything about anyone else's love life, either imagined or real.

 

“Have another drink, Shunsui,” he told the man as he hastily poured him another cup of sake. And then another. Shunsui drank them, tipping them down his throat quickly and apparently without tasting them. His eyes were barely open and the hat fell off as his flushed face deepened in colour.

 

Toshiro had judged the level well. After the third refill Shunsui collapsed over the table and commenced snoring.

 

“At least that's better than his singing,” a patron of the bar commented sourly.

 

“Yeah, not near as loud,” the bar keeper agreed. “Could you get him out of here? He's bad for business,” he asked Toshiro, not very gently and with a lack of respect that didn't augur well for Shunsui.

 

“I'll send some people to collect him,” Toshiro said as he handed over some coins. “Remember his rank and mine.”

 

“The guy's been annoying the hell out of the other patrons for hours. Most of them have left and gone elsewhere,” the man complained and then stopped when Toshiro looked at him, not bothering to conceal the anger he was feeling and a gust of cold enveloped the bar owner.

 

The shopkeeper turned a slimy white colour under his gaze and as a sheen of sweat formed on his brow he looked down. Satisfied that Shunsui should be safe until he was retrieved Toshiro slammed out of the bar his anger made him quickly make his way to 8th Division. After finding the office vacant he sought and found a few of the higher ranked officers. Tersely explaining the situation, he sent them to retrieve their captain. Searching further, he could find no trace of Nanao but on consideration decided not to ask her whereabouts. She might still be smarting from the earlier instruction from her captain.

 

Assured that Shunsui would be taken care of, he stood wondering what he could do next. “How do I get into 4th Division? Special Forces can be ruthless and don't operate like any other Division within the Seireitei. There has to be some way to get past them,' he pondered. As he stood there, uncertain what to do he felt a breeze pass by his side.

 

“Sir, a note from my Captain,” a voice interrupted his indecision.

 

Without even glancing at the person he automatically took the note being handed to him, opened and read it, and then wished he hadn't. He had enough to think about and did not wish to be present for the meeting he was requested to attend. Frowning, he glanced over the note again. There must be some way to escape this particular gathering.

 

“Captain Hitsugaya, Your presence is required at 13th Division at noon tomorrow. Captain Kuchiki has reluctantly agreed to discuss wedding plans and I require you as a witness. Yours sincerely, Ukitake.”

 

Had Kuchiki already agreed to marry Kiyone? That was quick work on the part of the 13th Division Captain and solved that problem, at least. It was probably the only good news he'd heard all day, but why did he have to be a witness? He still felt uncomfortable being near Kiyone and she might commence crying once more or decide she loved him. Even though she had explained that she didn't he still did not feel comfortable with the woman. She had told Soi everything and he was certain that was one of the reasons she had made the accusation about his relationship with Shunsui. He didn't need help to annoy Soi; he could do that quite easily on his own.

 

The problem remained. How could he reply in the negative to Captain Ukitake without appearing rude?

 

“Who cares if I'm rude? I don't want to go,” he thought but even as his brain rejected the idea the twinge of conscience was too strong and he found he had agreed to the meeting all the time knowing he would regret the agreement. It was strange. There had been no weddings in the time he had been a Captain and now three, close together.

 

The messenger left after bowing shallowly and he was again alone, unsure of his next move. With a feeling of dread he went toward 4th Division. As soon as he reached the perimeter he was turned back. A strong kido block was in place which was under constant renewal. He tried to rise above it, but couldn't. His attempts to counter it made him shake with exertion but didn't make any impression. The field remained in place and he was outside. He tried waving, sending a Hell Butterfly, anything, but remained ignored and becoming more anxious every moment that passed.

 

Since he'd insulted and left Soi, he had been trying to block out the feeling of Zaraki's reiatsu. He didn't want a reminder that his lieutenant was dying and that Soi had unemotionally stated that she would die and he should deal with Zaraki. What would the point be? The 11th Division Captain would be deaf to reason and prepared to fulfil his earlier threat. The only question was which would fall first: Hueco Mundo or the Seireitei? Even without bankai he doubted it would be easy to stop the man, or even slow him down if he was out of his mind with rage and grief over the loss of his wife.

 

Realising what he had unwittingly thought he felt a flare of hatred for his mind that had acknowledged that she would die. He had been denying it since he'd heard that she'd returned, but it was hard to ignore something that was inevitable.

 

Now, because Shunsui was being self indulgent, he had lost the only opportunity he could see of talking to his lieutenant. How could he get an update on her situation? Would he be told anything if he went to 4th Division?

 

A tug in his gut made him want to go to Soi and ask her to help. She could get him into 4th Division, but if he saw her, being off balance the way he was would be damned difficult. It was only due to his thoughts of Matsumoto that made him able to prevent the expression of his feelings. Seeing her now was folly.

 

A tug at the edge of his mind made him notice that Zaraki's reiatsu was now peaking further and now seemed to be coming from 11th Division. The surges crested higher and took longer to fall. It was now even harder to sense Matsumoto, as hers, while still synchronised with her husband's barely moved. She was hovering on the edge of death. He closed his eyes in defeat. Failure was bitter and so was this loss.

 

Soi had been correct. Zaraki was going insane and he would kill everyone who got in his way. The pulses he was feeling proved this and he felt the blood rush to his face, thundering in his ears. Someone had to die; but the people he wanted to punish were too far to reach quickly. There must be something he could do to rid himself of this feeling. If he went to 11th Division it was probable that someone might be able to provide him some update of his lieutenant's condition.

 

When he opened his eyes he noticed he was not where he had been. Instinctively he had used shun-po to go to 11th Division and he faced the enraged Zaraki. His reiatsu was thicker and heavier than he'd ever experienced and at first he staggered under its weight. To compensate he opened himself to the spirit particles and drew them in freely, strengthening his own spirit power.

 

Being intent on trying to kill his subordinates, Zaraki had not noticed his arrival. At least 12 men were trying to battle him, but most of them wore looks of terror as they tried to dodge his attacks. Already there were wounded men littering the ground, grievous wounds evident on their bodies, but all still lived. Ikkaku and Yumichika were the one's who were causing the most distraction and both bore wounds. Ikkaku seemed uncertain as to whether he should enjoy this fight and he kept shooting glances at the others as if he wished they would let him battle his captain alone. Yumichika wore the most determined expression Toshiro had ever seen. Gone was the preening, simpering 5th seat that seemed only concerned with appearance and in his stead stood a man who seemed torn between sorrow and determination.

 

Even as he watched Zaraki's blade clashed against another and one more man dropped, his blade wrenched from his hand from the force of the attack, blood spurting where his ear had been severed. Ikkaku glanced at Yumichika and nodded and they both advanced on their Captain, with fortitude. He didn't think they'd have a chance against Zaraki in this mood.

 

“Wait,” Toshiro called and saw them stop. The stared at him and before he could do anything a large form loomed between him and the members of 11th Division.

 

“What the fuck do you want here, short arse?” Zaraki barked.

 

“I want to find out how my older sister is, I mean my Lieutenant. No one will tell me” Toshiro yelled back in frustrated anger not caring about his mistake. He was so sick of people reminding him of his size. “Tell me, bastard!”

 

Zaraki glared at him evilly. “She's dying. I didn't keep her safe. You came to gloat,” he said scornfully.

 

“No I frigging didn't,” the words were wrenched from him. “She's dying because you weren't fast enough.”

 

Zaraki gave him a fleshless grin. The sight chilled him. “I did worse than that. I didn't protect her and I made Retsu kill my beloved wife. My fault, Hitsugaya. It's my fault. Let's kill each other.”

 

Toshiro looked at the man blankly. What was he talking about? He made no sense. Retsu wouldn't hurt Matsumoto, he knew that. What had Zaraki done?

 

 

A.N.

 

Not the easiest chapter to write and the next chapter is going to be as much fun as having wisdom teeth extracted.

 

Thanks to Mors', ldymoon, and Bastion for the reviews. I appreciate the kind words.

 

`Welcome to the Black Parade' My Chemical Romance

`Sweet Transvestite' The Rocky Horror (Picture) Show

`Dirge' Death in Vegas

“Meltdown' Orbital

 

Review. I like reviews.