Disclaimer: I wanna own Bleach… but I don't…
Author's Note: … Read please… Oneshot but… maybe multichapter? Edited because HoseHobbler gave me constructive criticism. Kudos!
A small part of him knew he was going crazy. An even smaller part was wondering why Zangetsu wasn't helping him. But most of his mind had already been devoured. Really, he shouldn't be thinking with his guts splattered all over the grass. He shouldn't be alive with a hollow digging its tentacles in his flesh. But the light was so peaceful; so bright and warm… He couldn't feel anything anymore. Tan skin slipped over dulled bronze eyes, ignoring the screams around him. They were all a figment of his imagination anyway right? There was no way he was dieing. This was all a dream… Right?
Sure she'd been having bad luck today, losing her homework, getting detention with a teacher who wouldn't let her leave for a hollow alert. But this was the worst. Ichigo's body was spread eagle on the grass, his sword no where in sight. The hollow which she'd taken to be a small one had its tentacles in his unmoving torso. She dimly heard screaming and registered almost a minute later that she was the one doing it. A hard callused palm covered her eyes and she fell. She should see nothing but the images were imprinted in her mind. She wanted everything to disappear, to be a dream. But it couldn't be a dream. He was dying. She could do nothing.
There was no way she could smile through this; no way could she toss it aside like other things. His dull brown orbs stared straight at her and she found herself crying. She wanted to attack the hollow gorging on his bloody flesh, wanted to hurt it, to reject it from existence. But she was too weak; too weak to do anything. All she could do was wait; wait and pray with all her heart that she could deny this, make it all just a dream, a nightmare.
He hated Kurosaki; hated all shinigami. The only reason why he was so stunned was that, even though he hated shinigami, he respected power; Kurosaki's power. To see such power lying around in a wreck of a body was horrifying and he believes that his hatred for Hollows has at least tripled. It hasn't tripled because he was concerned about Kurosaki of course. Oh, what is he saying… it has. To see such power diminished to so little. It's almost as if it were a dream.
The fuckin' hollow was eating his prey. How the hell was he supposed to kill the shinigami when it was scattered in pieces on the ground! The moment that hollow went back to Hueco Mundo he was going to tear it apart. He was going to rip it into shreds and devour it. It wouldn't satisfy him at all but it would make him feel better. That weakling hollow had taken his prey, his food. He wasn't satisfied and he wouldn't be satisfied without the lashing black reiatsu of that boy surrounding him as he fought. He never thought he'd ever say this, but he wishes this were an illusion; either that, or a dream.
He should not care that the boy is on the ground. He should not care that the hollow is tearing out his insides and gorging. But a part of him, the part that allows him to chose what he does, cares. He cares that a boy with so much potential will die; Cares that Aizen-sama will most definitely react to this. He also cares that the minute fear inside of him, the fear that he might lose to such a boy, is quelled. Yet the hollow side of him screams for the loss of such a potential opponent even as he knows he should do nothing. As he watches through his eyes, he believes he is no more in control of the situation as the dreamer in a dream.
He's always been a factor in everything. He's one of the puppeteers behind the show, the person who always knows everything beforehand. Or, at least, that's what he wants people to think. There is always a fear in him; A fear that he will not know enough. He fears things out of his control; things he cannot touch. It is too late to save Kurosaki. He knows that. And for the first time in his life, he wishes he didn't know so much. He wishes that the boy with even more potential than him were not lying there on the ground. He wishes for the false truth. Just this once, he wishes he were dreaming.
He knows Ichigo will die one day. That fact is obvious to everyone. Why then, is he so surprised that that time has come? Is it because, even though he and everyone else knows, that Ichigo will die, they ignore it? The carrot top is a constant power. Renji can't imagine him losing in a real battle. He has sparred with Ichigo enough to know that the boy has weaknesses but he still can't imagine the boy dying like this; at this time. He always imagined that the boy would go down in a flame of glory. But that is all a dream… he wishes it were the opposite.
It's not everyday a person like that appears. It's not everyday a person like that is killed. Seeing the bloody pieces of the person he called interesting, he wonders if he can revive such a soul; because such an interesting soul with such a high potential should not be wasted. A part of him wants the boy's fearsome power to be on his side. A part of him wants the boy crushed and broken simply to see how much will break him. A large part of him, though, wants the boy to grow stronger and face him. He cannot fight without an opponent, cannot win unless someone else loses. He knows that he, nor anyone else, can stop this digression. He wishes he were god once more; god with the power to turn this into a dream.
He has never hated the orange haired boy calling him Toushirou. He will never admit it, but Kurosaki calling him that seemed right. It seemed right that such a boy, no such a man, would call him that, he whose bankai was timed down to the second even after years of training. He dreads that, without this man, they will lose the war. He knows that the man has enough power to rival the best fighters. He knows, without seeing or hearing, that the others are mourning for him as well. He is worried about the after affects. This death might be worse than Aizen's betrayal. Hate and love can be reconciled. Despair and Sadness for the dead almost always never disappears. He wishes the others didn't have to see this; Wishes that it's all in his head; just a figment of his imagination; just a dream.
Heh, Stupid King…
Author's Note: Aaaannnd we end right there. Ya like it? If you do, review and I'll see if I can do a sequel. If you don't like it… tell me why… If you just don't care… Then I don't know how you ever got so far as to read this Author's note… So review! … Please?