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valmoraAll right, here we go. Part I of GOD KNOWS HOW MANY.
Working Title: The War to End All Wars
Authors: Val Mora (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
valmora) and Kira Douji (kira_douji)
Rating: varies. R at highest, though there will be outtakes not included in the main sections that may reach NC-17.
Fandom: Bleach manga
Major Characters: (we'll end up using all the characters to some degree eventually) Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Byakuya, Hataki Nobo (OFC), Ukitake Jyuushirou/Kyouraku Shunsui.
Warnings: Descriptions of battlefield conditions, homosexual and heterosexual relationships (and/or erotica in the genre of same), consumption of alcohol, spoilers for the Soul Society arc and everything past it.
Disclaimer: The author holds no license nor makes claims to any of the characters, concepts, or story from which the work below originated in any way. The characters are used without permission of the original creator for the sake of entertainment only. No profit is gained from the writing found hereafter, nor any personal credit taken for the character designs, personalities or concepts stemming from the original story used. All situations below, unless otherwise stated, have no bearing on the creator’s original work and are solely the creation of the author based on personal interpretation of the above mentioned works or are parodies exempted from copyright laws. It is the responsibility of the reader to observe all warnings before proceeding to the fiction below, as it may contain any number of situations, themes, ideas, views, or lifestyles not suitable for those under the age of 18 or which may be contrary or offensive to the beliefs of some. In the event that the following is the author’s original work, or contains an original character, the author holds the copyright and should be contacted before either is used or distributed in any way. All questions and comments concerning the written work or otherwise can be made directly to either of the authors.
(disclaimer from Kira Douji's website and altered slightly to fit the circumstances)
Notes: This was initially created as a roleplay between the coauthors and has been written as such; the switching between the different points of view is the result of that style of writing. This is also going to end up really damn long.
Weakness seeped into his bones. It should have been foreign, and yet the sensation registered as familiar no matter how he tried to make it otherwise. The weight of his body sunk beneath the surface of consciousness, dragging him slowly through a blurred memory his mind instinctively fought to keep in the darkness and depths of his soul. Viscous, coppery liquid filled his mouth and was spit out in a harsh attempt to replace it with air; nothing more than a manifestation of his poor state, for he’d long ago been stripped of flesh and blood, left with little more than the essence of death upon which he’d thrived for years on end, wrapped in the Hollow representation of will seen in the only form his mind could ever truly comprehend. Drowning, now, in the collapse of that form; choking on vestiges of life in death laughable in their insignificance.
A shaky blast of air expelled yet more liquid from his throat, and he could no longer taste the acidic tang that identified it as something vital. Yet, somehow, he stood, dragging himself to his feet with the point of his sword digging through the darkened and stained dirt around him. It was no longer a test of his will that kept him balanced and upright, but an instinctual need. Auburn eyes scanned the area, torn reiatsu straining to identify any taps of a spirit pulse he may have missed. Somewhere in the back of his head, a familiar power urged him from the battlefield, ensured him that, yes, everything was dead and he could retreat, but Renji paused a moment longer, trying not to sway on his feet and tightened his grip on Zabimaru. One more sweep, just to make sure none of the stragglers would get through to the line reforming distantly behind him. He pushed his feet into motion, but had to stop for a dizzy spell. Vaguely, it occured to him that he wasn’t in the best condition to actually encounter any stragglers if, indeed, he’d managed to miss some after his last fight.
The carnage of the battlefield lay, mud-slicked and pain-red, in a panorama before Byakuya. Having sent those in his Division to search through the bodies - so many, too many to doubt the strength of Aizen’s forces - for the living and to identify the dead, he gazed at the tableau, unmoving.
Unohana, beside him, red to the elbows, her captain’s haori mud-stained at the hems and on the sleeves, said quietly, “There are some on the other side of the hill. I think that was where Fifth was entrenched.” She did not say, Abarai-taichou is not here to direct the search for the living in his own Division so you must do it for him, but it was understood.
Byakuya turned in answer, beginning to make his way to the other side of Fourth’s makeshift hospital, and had only taken a few steps before - Abarai, barely standing, injured and spitting blood, and Byakuya turned to Unohana to say, “There is at least one who has survived,” indicating Renji with a gesture that spoke of irony, speak-of-the-Devil humour.
“Left flank,” Renji answered the unasked question of where to find survivors. Another, hacking cough sent him teetering on his feet until he managed to regain balance again. He stepped forward slowly, blood still flowing from gashes through to and staining his uniform, no one section free of dirt or blood. He grinned vacantly. “Got th’ rest out,” he declared breathily.
Entrusting Abarai to Unohana’s capable, if uncompromising, care, Byakuya made his way towards the direction indicated by Abarai’s words, a small contingent of Fourth Division lackeys fluttering in his wake. His search for pulsing reiatsu met a number of injured, some making almost no impression on his senses at all, and those he found immediately collected a hanger-on of a medic. The last was a young woman, one he did not recognise - he recognised few of the unseated among other Divisions, though - her breathing bubbly as though water were caught in her throat, and unwilling to move her, he knelt beside her on the ground and mustered up some degree of energy from a will to honor his vow to protect Seireitei - well, Fourth was not the only Division that learnt kidou spells for healing.
Her breathing at least steadied, he moved to help her stand when she became unconscious, and Byakuya, unwilling to merely wait for someone to bring her, picked the girl up - so young to fight, new to the field and doubtless barely trained - and carried her the distance to the makeshift hospital.
Auburn eyes rose blurrily to follow the somewhat surprised gaze of one of the fourth division seats from where he lay, bathed in the glow of Unohana’s healing, feeling lazy and warm beneath the powerful energies. A vague smile drew his lips apart, his breathing shallow but evening out. It was strange to see the noble actually, physically, helping the effort. A low chuckle bubbled out before he could stop it, but it came out breathy and pained. He was relieved, though; he hadn’t been sure she’d made it. Good. That was one less to worry about.
Depositing the girl on one of the spaces for the injured, Byakuya turned slowly, heels sinking into the dirt, gaze flicking over Abarai’s prone body toward the horde of medics searching the carnage that had been left of his own division, then back to Abarai before he could resist the temptation.
To stop himself from distraction, he turned, caught the eye of one of Unohana’s seated officers, and said, “If a place for the dead has been established, I am capable of identifying those from Sixth.” She shook her head, protesting that it was too early to start, to which Byakuya replied, “Delegate. It must be done before the water disfigures the bodies.”
“Ah... perhaps the trench to the west,” she tentatively suggested, glancing between the captains around her.
“Water?” Renji queried from his nearly comatose state, vaguely listening to the conversation and merely catching snipits. “From what?”
The girl looked mildly distressed by the question, shooting Unohana a worried look but offering the redhead a careful smile, hoping his attention would drift off and allow the other captain to heal him before his delirium made him too hard to work with. Really, he must’ve lost more blood than they first thought.
Ignoring Abarai’s question, Byakuya nodded to the woman and began to move in the direction she had indicated, pausing momentarily to rest his fingers over Abarai’s wrist, and murmuring a small incantation of energy transfer that left him dizzy. He was more tired than he had thought, then, and it was best he was perusing the dead, as aiding the living was very nearly beyond his physical resources.
Yet-
Encountering his own sixth seat, noting the man’s steady gaze, he said, “Return to Seireitei. Tell them reinforcements are needed to help clean up. Fourth is overcommitted. It is also imperative that the Registrar be found to note who has survived and for whom replacements must be found. When he arrives, instruct him to find Abarai, who should by that point be lucid.” The man bowed before leaving, but before Byakuya could continue on his way, he was accosted by the officer who had given him directions, telling him that Abarai was awake, lucid, and requesting his presence.
Renji straightened in his sitting postion, trying to unslump as he felt the familiar weight of Byakuya’s reiatsu turn back in his direction. Unohana had finished earlier than anticipated, not that either was surprised after the dose of energy the sixth division captain had dropped in passing. The redhead found himself split between the unaccepting wall of pride that wanted to deflect his former captain’s aid, labeling it as nothing more than a holdover from earlier positions, and the side of him that had been grateful for the little boost, as it would let him get up and back on the field sooner.
“I’m going with you,” he announced once the man was in range of hearing, and slowly rose to his feet. There was still a nebulous feeling of disconnection that hung over him from his injuries and then the quick healing they’d received, but he pushed it aside and sent any residual weakness out in slow, even breathes. “... They already started on mine,” he added, notably quieter. Glancing at the other captain, he turned back towards the direction Byakuya would have been walking in and asked, “Did we relieve your position?” How many were lost? Was it worth it? He didn’t want to think of all the shinigami that could have been lost, for he’d certainly overestimate and get lost in the magnitude of it.
Renji’s insistence on accompanying him was disconcerting, a danger to Renji’s own command and to his state of half-healing, and Byakuya noted aloud, “Has Unohana determined that you are well enough to move from that spot?” Yet he kept his voice even, without the usual bite of derogatory insinuation, limiting his scorn to merely Renji’s idiocy at moving already. No need to give him the encouragement of knowing how instrumental his forces had been, not when it would only make him force his body to activity too quickly.
“Never said I couldn’t,” the younger half answered, only half irritated by a question he’d been fully expecting. “And I have things ta do anyway. The sooner we can get the names sent in, the sooner we can rest.” Renji paused long enough to see if Byakuya intended on travelling with him or returning him to the bed he’d only recently vacated. He needed to keep going. For his own sake as much as Seireitei’s. The less time to actively think, more time he could later relegate to dreamless sleep.
Byakuya resisted the temptation to order Renji to lie back down, well-aware of their now-equal ranks but equally aware of Renji’s exhaustion, and equivocated with, “The task must be done. If you feel its urgency warrants your intervention immediately, it may be done now.” He waited for Renji to join him before beginning to trudge towards the makeshift morgue, keeping silent.
They passed an unseated shinigami lying facedown in the muck, and Byakuya turned him over, glancing at the Fifth insignia on the boy’s uniform before looking at Renji.
Sighing, the redhead shook his head in dismay. “Yoshiki - just joined last month,” he muttered, adding the name to a list in his head. He bit back a curse and ill gotten commentary on the people being sent like fodder through the lines and leaned down as much as he dared, tagging the dead man’s uniform with a very light trace of reiatsu. Nodding to Byakuya, he straightened and moved on, eyes scanning the ground so he could use his reserves for the dead he found. “You never answered my question,” he pointed out, glancing over once before returning to the task at hand. This was, without a doubt, the part of the job he hated the most.
Renji was not one for subtlety, and the flashing beacon of the tag he left on his subordinate rang in the back of Byakuya’s skull as a mixture of a warning klaxon and Renji’s own voice shouting the boy’s name incessantly. It was doubtless unintentional, but nevertheless, the thought of an entire battlefield full of such noises would have been enough to give anyone nightmares.
“Perhaps less energy into the tag would be more efficient?” he suggested mildly, finding another - one of his own - and using kidou to write the deceased’s name above his insignia.
Auburn eyes slid to watch Bykuya askance as the younger man crouched by another of his division, applying the label - this time at a lower volume - and moving forward again. The noble always had been particularly sensitive to kidou in general, and Renji more used to applying the blazing beacons in the middle of battle when their clarity was needed. The fact that kidou was still not his strong point aside, he rather irritably noted that Byakuya had avoided answering him again.
“Perhaps answering my questions would be more efficient than making me ask three times,” he couldn’t help returning, all but exhausted and just wanting to know if his efforts had been worth something and the deaths across both divisions not completely senseless.
Unable to identify a body so defaced that it was unrecognisable, Byakuya paused before moving on, answering Renji’s question with a mild, “Your Division’s presence was essential.” Essential, almost at the cost of your own life. Reckless idiot, he added in his thoughts, but the last was as much accepted as epithet.
He glanced up at the sound of a large group of shinigami appearing, noting Komamura at the head before returning to his task. “It is doubtless that Seventh will discover that Aizen’s forces have been quite weakened, though the exact count of Arrancar dead is of course uncertain.”
“Good,” Renji nodded, content with the answer. He cast his gaze away from the body they had stopped beside. “I’ve got a rough count, but I’ll need ta double check it later.” Although Zabimaru’d be the only person to check the last numbers with, he added mostly to himself, aware that his zanpakutou had already fallen into a healing slumber and not willing to break it for such a paltry reason. Looking back over his shoulder at the team sent to assist in clean up, the redhead added, “We should keep movin’ or we’ll hold them up...”
In response to Renji’s declaration, Byakuya sped up the pace of his movements slightly, well-aware of his limitations and the way his joints protested when he moved. Fighting Arrancar, although not requiring a great deal of motion on his part, did take energy and left one exhausted. A girl, young enough to be Rukia and looking rather like her, spilled surprised on the ground, dead from blood loss - one of Fifth’s, then - a man, one of his own seated officers (seventh seat) - the sixth seat from Fifth - it went on. And on.
The only times Byakuya became so acutely aware of the numbers of shinigami in a Division was when he was to sign off the payroll and when he had to name the dead. So many, and far too many of them fresh from the Academy, utterly unprepared for Arrancar and almost completely untrained. Yamamoto was not an idiot, but they were all desperate.
“It would be wise to allow Seventh to estimate first and then attempt to reconcile,” he observed.
Renji sighed, feeling the weight of the day wearing on him and knowing it was probably the same with the other man as well. He cast another marker on a body to his left - making a mental note that he needed a new nineth seat - and wearilly nodded in reply. “They should just send us out first - it’s ridiculous how many we lose with these fodder tactics,” he all but growled, frustrated and annoyed with his own inability to keep his division whole and intact. A lot could be said about the bloodthirsty division he’d hailed from - most of it unflattering - but at least they knew how to not die. He didn’t even have the luxury of training new members and was told to send them into a battle which he had to later save them from. He hated it. Letting his eyes rest on the other man a moment, he waited to see whether or not Byakuya really intended to head back or simply continue on.
Byakuya let his silence be agreement enough, although any who might have been listening would not have heard him utter anything that showed discontent with his orders as he continued on his way, pausing only at the appearance of his vice-captain.
“Kuchiki-taichou,” she began, “Komamura-taichou has requested that you and Abarai-taichou meet with him at your earliest possible convenience, that presumably being immediately.” She paused, then added, “If it pleases you, sir, I can testify identification for most of Fifth as well, given that Abarai-taichou was also specified and his vice-captain is missing, presumed dead.”
Paling visibly at the news, Renji gave in to the severe urge to swear under his breath. Not one of the vice-captains he’d been given had been capable of keeping their head in battle - not only was he losing people who had more potential than most others, but the sheer number he’d gone through was starting to make him wonder if the spot wasn’t somehow jinxed. Maybe Ukitake had the right idea - two third seats instead of a second. At least that way he didn’t have a vice-captain dying or quitting on him ever other week.
“We’re going,” he announced gruffly, now completely lodged in a bad mood with the woman’s arrival. She already rubbed him the wrong way to begin with - leave it to Byakuya to easily and efficiently replace him in weeks while he made do with whoever got thrown his way. Next time, he was choosing, he firmly decided, trudging back towards the makeshift camp and Komamura’s reiatsu.
Byakuya, glancing archly back at Renji’s infuriated traipsing, murmured to Hataki, “If there are any you cannot recognise from Fifth, ask Abarai’s third seat, if the man may be found; he will know.” After finishing, he nodded to her, turning in Renji’s direction and beginning to return to the main encampment, finding Komamura in the midst of a small horde of officers that was slowly diminishing as Renji, radiating anger, came closer.
“Komamura,” Renji greeted with a nod, realizing somewhat belatedly that his reiatsu was flaring about and making something of an attempt to pull it in once more. The last thing he needed just then was Byakuya oh so subtly pointing out a flaw in his self control. After the day he had, all he wanted to do was slink back to his quarters and collapse. Possibly imbibing some judgement imparing substance inbetween those two actions. Now, on top of the aching muscles and sizzled reiatsu, he had a headache. A rather large one in fact - he rubbed a temple firmly. No wonder Byakuya was always so damned bitchy.
“It is good to see that you both are, if not well, at least alive,” Komamura answered before saying, “My apologies for not waiting to ask for basic accounts, but this matter is of some urgency, as we believe that another group of Arrancar is massing west of Rukongai. Kuchiki-taichou, could you please recount the events of this battle as you remember them?” In his hands was a small disc, a voice-recorder.
“Sixth division was ordered to set up a barrier between south Rukongai and the massing forces of Arrancar. However, midway through constructing makeshift fortifications, it began to rain, at which point the Arrancar decided to charge head-on. This would have been a defensible strategy had not a number of Arrancar also decided to attempt to sneak around and attack Sixth from the back, which was prevented by the arrival of Fifth Division forces. After some time, a gate was made to Hueco Mundo, through which the remaining Arrancar passed as they retreated.”
Komamura, turning to Renji, then asked, “Do you have anything more to add, Abarai-taichou?”
“Gate was destroyed bout halfway through their retreat - I don’t know how many Arrancar were caught in the blast though,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That’s all. Took out the majority of the force, but they probably added the survivors to the next group out to the west. They probably have just under the amount they’d need ta actually storm from all sides, so they keep switchin’. I’ve hardly seen the same Arrancar twice if they weren’t leadin’.” His assessment complete, Renji returned his attention to the remainder of the shinigami laying about the makeshift hospital, taking stock of what section of his division did survive.
Komamura nodded, turning off the device and thanking Byakuya, though he admitted that there would be a more in-depth debriefing afterwards, and moved to intercept a number of subordinates as Byakuya, mustering some energy from sheer willpower, managed to make it to Unohana.
“Abarai will collapse imminently if he is not sedated,” he pointed out, not without a certain degree of humour, and watched her beatific smile with some suspicion.
Renji, upon realizing the Byakuya had left their immediate vicinity, decided it would be in his best interests to find the man, given the noble’s previous penchant for vanishing always seemed to preclude his own forceful removal from the field. Finally catching sight of the man by Unohana, he couldn’t help the grin that accompanied discovering what kind of position his fellow captain was in. Realizing that Unohana had most likely intended the same thing for him, the redhead quickly made his way to the pair to intercept the issue before it became... painful.
“Do ya have anythin’ for headaches?” He asked upon finally reaching them. “Need ta get off my feet and I’ve got one hell of a migraine,” he added, making it clear that he intended to leave the field under his own willpower for once.
Byakuya did not twitch at the sound of Renji’s voice coming from behind him; it would have been unbefitting of his post in the Gotei 13. He was, however, forcefully surprised, though he did accept when Unohana offered to him some of what she administered to Renji, despite knowing that it was doubtless a substance that would cause him to sleep. He resisted informing Unohana that Hataki was more in need of rest than he and swallowed the medication without comment, following Unohana’s directions and finding an empty mat on the ground, not far from where Renji was already deeply unconscious and splayed out haphazardly across the available space.
The drug would become ineffective after two hours, he knew, and after that he would be more than capable of finishing whatever was left to do.
----
Scene Two
Scene Three
Scene Four
Scene Five
Scene Six
Scene Seven
Working Title: The War to End All Wars
Authors: Val Mora (
valmora) and Kira Douji (kira_douji)Rating: varies. R at highest, though there will be outtakes not included in the main sections that may reach NC-17.
Fandom: Bleach manga
Major Characters: (we'll end up using all the characters to some degree eventually) Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Byakuya, Hataki Nobo (OFC), Ukitake Jyuushirou/Kyouraku Shunsui.
Warnings: Descriptions of battlefield conditions, homosexual and heterosexual relationships (and/or erotica in the genre of same), consumption of alcohol, spoilers for the Soul Society arc and everything past it.
Disclaimer: The author holds no license nor makes claims to any of the characters, concepts, or story from which the work below originated in any way. The characters are used without permission of the original creator for the sake of entertainment only. No profit is gained from the writing found hereafter, nor any personal credit taken for the character designs, personalities or concepts stemming from the original story used. All situations below, unless otherwise stated, have no bearing on the creator’s original work and are solely the creation of the author based on personal interpretation of the above mentioned works or are parodies exempted from copyright laws. It is the responsibility of the reader to observe all warnings before proceeding to the fiction below, as it may contain any number of situations, themes, ideas, views, or lifestyles not suitable for those under the age of 18 or which may be contrary or offensive to the beliefs of some. In the event that the following is the author’s original work, or contains an original character, the author holds the copyright and should be contacted before either is used or distributed in any way. All questions and comments concerning the written work or otherwise can be made directly to either of the authors.
(disclaimer from Kira Douji's website and altered slightly to fit the circumstances)
Notes: This was initially created as a roleplay between the coauthors and has been written as such; the switching between the different points of view is the result of that style of writing. This is also going to end up really damn long.
Weakness seeped into his bones. It should have been foreign, and yet the sensation registered as familiar no matter how he tried to make it otherwise. The weight of his body sunk beneath the surface of consciousness, dragging him slowly through a blurred memory his mind instinctively fought to keep in the darkness and depths of his soul. Viscous, coppery liquid filled his mouth and was spit out in a harsh attempt to replace it with air; nothing more than a manifestation of his poor state, for he’d long ago been stripped of flesh and blood, left with little more than the essence of death upon which he’d thrived for years on end, wrapped in the Hollow representation of will seen in the only form his mind could ever truly comprehend. Drowning, now, in the collapse of that form; choking on vestiges of life in death laughable in their insignificance.
A shaky blast of air expelled yet more liquid from his throat, and he could no longer taste the acidic tang that identified it as something vital. Yet, somehow, he stood, dragging himself to his feet with the point of his sword digging through the darkened and stained dirt around him. It was no longer a test of his will that kept him balanced and upright, but an instinctual need. Auburn eyes scanned the area, torn reiatsu straining to identify any taps of a spirit pulse he may have missed. Somewhere in the back of his head, a familiar power urged him from the battlefield, ensured him that, yes, everything was dead and he could retreat, but Renji paused a moment longer, trying not to sway on his feet and tightened his grip on Zabimaru. One more sweep, just to make sure none of the stragglers would get through to the line reforming distantly behind him. He pushed his feet into motion, but had to stop for a dizzy spell. Vaguely, it occured to him that he wasn’t in the best condition to actually encounter any stragglers if, indeed, he’d managed to miss some after his last fight.
The carnage of the battlefield lay, mud-slicked and pain-red, in a panorama before Byakuya. Having sent those in his Division to search through the bodies - so many, too many to doubt the strength of Aizen’s forces - for the living and to identify the dead, he gazed at the tableau, unmoving.
Unohana, beside him, red to the elbows, her captain’s haori mud-stained at the hems and on the sleeves, said quietly, “There are some on the other side of the hill. I think that was where Fifth was entrenched.” She did not say, Abarai-taichou is not here to direct the search for the living in his own Division so you must do it for him, but it was understood.
Byakuya turned in answer, beginning to make his way to the other side of Fourth’s makeshift hospital, and had only taken a few steps before - Abarai, barely standing, injured and spitting blood, and Byakuya turned to Unohana to say, “There is at least one who has survived,” indicating Renji with a gesture that spoke of irony, speak-of-the-Devil humour.
“Left flank,” Renji answered the unasked question of where to find survivors. Another, hacking cough sent him teetering on his feet until he managed to regain balance again. He stepped forward slowly, blood still flowing from gashes through to and staining his uniform, no one section free of dirt or blood. He grinned vacantly. “Got th’ rest out,” he declared breathily.
Entrusting Abarai to Unohana’s capable, if uncompromising, care, Byakuya made his way towards the direction indicated by Abarai’s words, a small contingent of Fourth Division lackeys fluttering in his wake. His search for pulsing reiatsu met a number of injured, some making almost no impression on his senses at all, and those he found immediately collected a hanger-on of a medic. The last was a young woman, one he did not recognise - he recognised few of the unseated among other Divisions, though - her breathing bubbly as though water were caught in her throat, and unwilling to move her, he knelt beside her on the ground and mustered up some degree of energy from a will to honor his vow to protect Seireitei - well, Fourth was not the only Division that learnt kidou spells for healing.
Her breathing at least steadied, he moved to help her stand when she became unconscious, and Byakuya, unwilling to merely wait for someone to bring her, picked the girl up - so young to fight, new to the field and doubtless barely trained - and carried her the distance to the makeshift hospital.
Auburn eyes rose blurrily to follow the somewhat surprised gaze of one of the fourth division seats from where he lay, bathed in the glow of Unohana’s healing, feeling lazy and warm beneath the powerful energies. A vague smile drew his lips apart, his breathing shallow but evening out. It was strange to see the noble actually, physically, helping the effort. A low chuckle bubbled out before he could stop it, but it came out breathy and pained. He was relieved, though; he hadn’t been sure she’d made it. Good. That was one less to worry about.
Depositing the girl on one of the spaces for the injured, Byakuya turned slowly, heels sinking into the dirt, gaze flicking over Abarai’s prone body toward the horde of medics searching the carnage that had been left of his own division, then back to Abarai before he could resist the temptation.
To stop himself from distraction, he turned, caught the eye of one of Unohana’s seated officers, and said, “If a place for the dead has been established, I am capable of identifying those from Sixth.” She shook her head, protesting that it was too early to start, to which Byakuya replied, “Delegate. It must be done before the water disfigures the bodies.”
“Ah... perhaps the trench to the west,” she tentatively suggested, glancing between the captains around her.
“Water?” Renji queried from his nearly comatose state, vaguely listening to the conversation and merely catching snipits. “From what?”
The girl looked mildly distressed by the question, shooting Unohana a worried look but offering the redhead a careful smile, hoping his attention would drift off and allow the other captain to heal him before his delirium made him too hard to work with. Really, he must’ve lost more blood than they first thought.
Ignoring Abarai’s question, Byakuya nodded to the woman and began to move in the direction she had indicated, pausing momentarily to rest his fingers over Abarai’s wrist, and murmuring a small incantation of energy transfer that left him dizzy. He was more tired than he had thought, then, and it was best he was perusing the dead, as aiding the living was very nearly beyond his physical resources.
Yet-
Encountering his own sixth seat, noting the man’s steady gaze, he said, “Return to Seireitei. Tell them reinforcements are needed to help clean up. Fourth is overcommitted. It is also imperative that the Registrar be found to note who has survived and for whom replacements must be found. When he arrives, instruct him to find Abarai, who should by that point be lucid.” The man bowed before leaving, but before Byakuya could continue on his way, he was accosted by the officer who had given him directions, telling him that Abarai was awake, lucid, and requesting his presence.
Renji straightened in his sitting postion, trying to unslump as he felt the familiar weight of Byakuya’s reiatsu turn back in his direction. Unohana had finished earlier than anticipated, not that either was surprised after the dose of energy the sixth division captain had dropped in passing. The redhead found himself split between the unaccepting wall of pride that wanted to deflect his former captain’s aid, labeling it as nothing more than a holdover from earlier positions, and the side of him that had been grateful for the little boost, as it would let him get up and back on the field sooner.
“I’m going with you,” he announced once the man was in range of hearing, and slowly rose to his feet. There was still a nebulous feeling of disconnection that hung over him from his injuries and then the quick healing they’d received, but he pushed it aside and sent any residual weakness out in slow, even breathes. “... They already started on mine,” he added, notably quieter. Glancing at the other captain, he turned back towards the direction Byakuya would have been walking in and asked, “Did we relieve your position?” How many were lost? Was it worth it? He didn’t want to think of all the shinigami that could have been lost, for he’d certainly overestimate and get lost in the magnitude of it.
Renji’s insistence on accompanying him was disconcerting, a danger to Renji’s own command and to his state of half-healing, and Byakuya noted aloud, “Has Unohana determined that you are well enough to move from that spot?” Yet he kept his voice even, without the usual bite of derogatory insinuation, limiting his scorn to merely Renji’s idiocy at moving already. No need to give him the encouragement of knowing how instrumental his forces had been, not when it would only make him force his body to activity too quickly.
“Never said I couldn’t,” the younger half answered, only half irritated by a question he’d been fully expecting. “And I have things ta do anyway. The sooner we can get the names sent in, the sooner we can rest.” Renji paused long enough to see if Byakuya intended on travelling with him or returning him to the bed he’d only recently vacated. He needed to keep going. For his own sake as much as Seireitei’s. The less time to actively think, more time he could later relegate to dreamless sleep.
Byakuya resisted the temptation to order Renji to lie back down, well-aware of their now-equal ranks but equally aware of Renji’s exhaustion, and equivocated with, “The task must be done. If you feel its urgency warrants your intervention immediately, it may be done now.” He waited for Renji to join him before beginning to trudge towards the makeshift morgue, keeping silent.
They passed an unseated shinigami lying facedown in the muck, and Byakuya turned him over, glancing at the Fifth insignia on the boy’s uniform before looking at Renji.
Sighing, the redhead shook his head in dismay. “Yoshiki - just joined last month,” he muttered, adding the name to a list in his head. He bit back a curse and ill gotten commentary on the people being sent like fodder through the lines and leaned down as much as he dared, tagging the dead man’s uniform with a very light trace of reiatsu. Nodding to Byakuya, he straightened and moved on, eyes scanning the ground so he could use his reserves for the dead he found. “You never answered my question,” he pointed out, glancing over once before returning to the task at hand. This was, without a doubt, the part of the job he hated the most.
Renji was not one for subtlety, and the flashing beacon of the tag he left on his subordinate rang in the back of Byakuya’s skull as a mixture of a warning klaxon and Renji’s own voice shouting the boy’s name incessantly. It was doubtless unintentional, but nevertheless, the thought of an entire battlefield full of such noises would have been enough to give anyone nightmares.
“Perhaps less energy into the tag would be more efficient?” he suggested mildly, finding another - one of his own - and using kidou to write the deceased’s name above his insignia.
Auburn eyes slid to watch Bykuya askance as the younger man crouched by another of his division, applying the label - this time at a lower volume - and moving forward again. The noble always had been particularly sensitive to kidou in general, and Renji more used to applying the blazing beacons in the middle of battle when their clarity was needed. The fact that kidou was still not his strong point aside, he rather irritably noted that Byakuya had avoided answering him again.
“Perhaps answering my questions would be more efficient than making me ask three times,” he couldn’t help returning, all but exhausted and just wanting to know if his efforts had been worth something and the deaths across both divisions not completely senseless.
Unable to identify a body so defaced that it was unrecognisable, Byakuya paused before moving on, answering Renji’s question with a mild, “Your Division’s presence was essential.” Essential, almost at the cost of your own life. Reckless idiot, he added in his thoughts, but the last was as much accepted as epithet.
He glanced up at the sound of a large group of shinigami appearing, noting Komamura at the head before returning to his task. “It is doubtless that Seventh will discover that Aizen’s forces have been quite weakened, though the exact count of Arrancar dead is of course uncertain.”
“Good,” Renji nodded, content with the answer. He cast his gaze away from the body they had stopped beside. “I’ve got a rough count, but I’ll need ta double check it later.” Although Zabimaru’d be the only person to check the last numbers with, he added mostly to himself, aware that his zanpakutou had already fallen into a healing slumber and not willing to break it for such a paltry reason. Looking back over his shoulder at the team sent to assist in clean up, the redhead added, “We should keep movin’ or we’ll hold them up...”
In response to Renji’s declaration, Byakuya sped up the pace of his movements slightly, well-aware of his limitations and the way his joints protested when he moved. Fighting Arrancar, although not requiring a great deal of motion on his part, did take energy and left one exhausted. A girl, young enough to be Rukia and looking rather like her, spilled surprised on the ground, dead from blood loss - one of Fifth’s, then - a man, one of his own seated officers (seventh seat) - the sixth seat from Fifth - it went on. And on.
The only times Byakuya became so acutely aware of the numbers of shinigami in a Division was when he was to sign off the payroll and when he had to name the dead. So many, and far too many of them fresh from the Academy, utterly unprepared for Arrancar and almost completely untrained. Yamamoto was not an idiot, but they were all desperate.
“It would be wise to allow Seventh to estimate first and then attempt to reconcile,” he observed.
Renji sighed, feeling the weight of the day wearing on him and knowing it was probably the same with the other man as well. He cast another marker on a body to his left - making a mental note that he needed a new nineth seat - and wearilly nodded in reply. “They should just send us out first - it’s ridiculous how many we lose with these fodder tactics,” he all but growled, frustrated and annoyed with his own inability to keep his division whole and intact. A lot could be said about the bloodthirsty division he’d hailed from - most of it unflattering - but at least they knew how to not die. He didn’t even have the luxury of training new members and was told to send them into a battle which he had to later save them from. He hated it. Letting his eyes rest on the other man a moment, he waited to see whether or not Byakuya really intended to head back or simply continue on.
Byakuya let his silence be agreement enough, although any who might have been listening would not have heard him utter anything that showed discontent with his orders as he continued on his way, pausing only at the appearance of his vice-captain.
“Kuchiki-taichou,” she began, “Komamura-taichou has requested that you and Abarai-taichou meet with him at your earliest possible convenience, that presumably being immediately.” She paused, then added, “If it pleases you, sir, I can testify identification for most of Fifth as well, given that Abarai-taichou was also specified and his vice-captain is missing, presumed dead.”
Paling visibly at the news, Renji gave in to the severe urge to swear under his breath. Not one of the vice-captains he’d been given had been capable of keeping their head in battle - not only was he losing people who had more potential than most others, but the sheer number he’d gone through was starting to make him wonder if the spot wasn’t somehow jinxed. Maybe Ukitake had the right idea - two third seats instead of a second. At least that way he didn’t have a vice-captain dying or quitting on him ever other week.
“We’re going,” he announced gruffly, now completely lodged in a bad mood with the woman’s arrival. She already rubbed him the wrong way to begin with - leave it to Byakuya to easily and efficiently replace him in weeks while he made do with whoever got thrown his way. Next time, he was choosing, he firmly decided, trudging back towards the makeshift camp and Komamura’s reiatsu.
Byakuya, glancing archly back at Renji’s infuriated traipsing, murmured to Hataki, “If there are any you cannot recognise from Fifth, ask Abarai’s third seat, if the man may be found; he will know.” After finishing, he nodded to her, turning in Renji’s direction and beginning to return to the main encampment, finding Komamura in the midst of a small horde of officers that was slowly diminishing as Renji, radiating anger, came closer.
“Komamura,” Renji greeted with a nod, realizing somewhat belatedly that his reiatsu was flaring about and making something of an attempt to pull it in once more. The last thing he needed just then was Byakuya oh so subtly pointing out a flaw in his self control. After the day he had, all he wanted to do was slink back to his quarters and collapse. Possibly imbibing some judgement imparing substance inbetween those two actions. Now, on top of the aching muscles and sizzled reiatsu, he had a headache. A rather large one in fact - he rubbed a temple firmly. No wonder Byakuya was always so damned bitchy.
“It is good to see that you both are, if not well, at least alive,” Komamura answered before saying, “My apologies for not waiting to ask for basic accounts, but this matter is of some urgency, as we believe that another group of Arrancar is massing west of Rukongai. Kuchiki-taichou, could you please recount the events of this battle as you remember them?” In his hands was a small disc, a voice-recorder.
“Sixth division was ordered to set up a barrier between south Rukongai and the massing forces of Arrancar. However, midway through constructing makeshift fortifications, it began to rain, at which point the Arrancar decided to charge head-on. This would have been a defensible strategy had not a number of Arrancar also decided to attempt to sneak around and attack Sixth from the back, which was prevented by the arrival of Fifth Division forces. After some time, a gate was made to Hueco Mundo, through which the remaining Arrancar passed as they retreated.”
Komamura, turning to Renji, then asked, “Do you have anything more to add, Abarai-taichou?”
“Gate was destroyed bout halfway through their retreat - I don’t know how many Arrancar were caught in the blast though,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That’s all. Took out the majority of the force, but they probably added the survivors to the next group out to the west. They probably have just under the amount they’d need ta actually storm from all sides, so they keep switchin’. I’ve hardly seen the same Arrancar twice if they weren’t leadin’.” His assessment complete, Renji returned his attention to the remainder of the shinigami laying about the makeshift hospital, taking stock of what section of his division did survive.
Komamura nodded, turning off the device and thanking Byakuya, though he admitted that there would be a more in-depth debriefing afterwards, and moved to intercept a number of subordinates as Byakuya, mustering some energy from sheer willpower, managed to make it to Unohana.
“Abarai will collapse imminently if he is not sedated,” he pointed out, not without a certain degree of humour, and watched her beatific smile with some suspicion.
Renji, upon realizing the Byakuya had left their immediate vicinity, decided it would be in his best interests to find the man, given the noble’s previous penchant for vanishing always seemed to preclude his own forceful removal from the field. Finally catching sight of the man by Unohana, he couldn’t help the grin that accompanied discovering what kind of position his fellow captain was in. Realizing that Unohana had most likely intended the same thing for him, the redhead quickly made his way to the pair to intercept the issue before it became... painful.
“Do ya have anythin’ for headaches?” He asked upon finally reaching them. “Need ta get off my feet and I’ve got one hell of a migraine,” he added, making it clear that he intended to leave the field under his own willpower for once.
Byakuya did not twitch at the sound of Renji’s voice coming from behind him; it would have been unbefitting of his post in the Gotei 13. He was, however, forcefully surprised, though he did accept when Unohana offered to him some of what she administered to Renji, despite knowing that it was doubtless a substance that would cause him to sleep. He resisted informing Unohana that Hataki was more in need of rest than he and swallowed the medication without comment, following Unohana’s directions and finding an empty mat on the ground, not far from where Renji was already deeply unconscious and splayed out haphazardly across the available space.
The drug would become ineffective after two hours, he knew, and after that he would be more than capable of finishing whatever was left to do.
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