Fighting Demons

Authors notes: And now for something completely different. This is pretty much nothing like the last thing I posted >_> but hopefully people will still enjoy.

Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed my last fic... and to those who took the time to read it.

Tennak: Thank you! I have some new things in the works, hopefully you will like them too. I do still read the manga... I’m thinking I might have to have a go at some Kensei/Shuuhei fic sometime XD

Yakumo: Thank you *hearts*

Nalana: Your review totally made my day!! And made me blush XD

Anise: Thank you!! I was so tempted to write a drabble from Kira’s POV, with him watching them xD What other pairings do you like? I’m not very good with prompts, but maybe I can write you something sometime.

Comments and/or constructive criticism very much appreciated.

*****

The explosive power of the Cero threw Kira from his feet. Dragging himself to his knees, he scraped the sludge from his face and rolled away before the Vasto Lorde could rip him apart with his claw-like hands. He didn’t get far before he slid down into yet another pit that had been rent in the earth. Breathing hard he looked up to see if the hollow had followed him, but it looked as if someone else had already caught its attention. Overhead the thunder crashed, the cue for another wave of rain to start pelting down onto the already saturated earth.

The battleground was unrecognisable from the rolling green fields it had been only a few hours earlier. The destructive forces of those fighting in this final battle had cleaved through trees and stone alike, churning the mud and grass into furrows and mounds that left the terrain virtually impassable. Then the rain had started.

They had been fighting like this for the last hour or more. Overwhelmed, outnumbered, separated and desperate. He had watched helplessly as his squad - his squad not Gin’s anymore - had been decimated, despite their more than valiant efforts to hold back the tide of hollows until reinforcements could be called. He had given everything he had and so had they. He had never felt more proud of the men he fought alongside.

The rest of the Gotei 13 had come too late save most of them, likely to late to stop Aizen’s army sweeping away the city as well. After eighteen months of sporadic fighting, Seireitei’s protection squads were depleted and exhausted. Somewhere up ahead he knew people like Ichigo, Byakuya, Shunsui and Ukitake were fighting Aizen and his top Espada. He could still feel the flashes of reiatsu tearing through the air every now and again.

He had no illusions that he was going to survive; his aim was now to take out as many of the creatures that had invaded the Real World as he could. Unfortunately it was getting harder and harder to stand, let alone fight. His uniform was ripped, the gi torn until it hung from his shoulders, yet its sodden weight still pulled him down. He couldn’t see the purple bruises and vivid red scrapes that covered his skin anymore, like everything they were caked in thick layers of mud.

The scream of the air being torn apart above him was enough to send him slithering down the slope of another trench. Ignoring the knee-deep mud, he turned and forced his body to give up a little more of its spirit energy, firing off a blast of blue fire. The low level hollow screeched in pain as its mask was split down the middle—anyone who hadn’t learnt to use their kidou without chanting hadn’t lasted very long. Kira didn’t stop to gloat over his victory; the only reasons hollows like that were being allowed onto the battlefield was to hunt out straggling shinigami. One of the Arrancar would likely have noted his position already.

He pushed the ever-present fall of hair out of his eyes and dragged himself from the trench, slithering and sliding as he went. The mud beneath him gave way as he reached the top, leaving him sprawled out on the ground.

The sight that met him would have scared him senseless a few months ago. A few hours ago he might still have felt himself tremble, even though he had long ago learnt to make sure that no one else saw, but now the towering figure of the Vasto Lorde pulled something like a lopsided grin to his lips. The move left the taste of mud on his tongue and he wiped his face with the back of his hand. Unsheathing Wabisuke silently where he lay, he waited for the creature to make its move.

Suddenly he felt something move beside him. He swung his Zanpakutou up on instinct, and felt his shoulder jar as the blade hit something solid. Turning, he looked up into Renji’s auburn eyes—Wabisuke caught in Zabimaru’s jagged teeth.

The sixth squad fukutaichou grabbed him by what was left of his gi and dragged him to his feet, just as he saw a flash of black fly at the hollow lord. He watched, as taken by surprised, the creature was cleaved in two by Shuuhei’s blade.

Struggling to gain his own feet, he pushed Renji away. “What are you doing here?”

The tattooed shinigami grinned at him through his loose, flame-red hair. “Fighting hollows.”

Kira nodded and found himself grinning back. Despite that, deep down, he knew the truth. They had come here looking for him. He knew that they had always been there for each other. He knew that they had all, in their time, broken the rules to fight for one another, but it was still a strange thing to know that his friends had gone out of their way, in a battle like this, to make sure that he was alive.

Renji smirked and grabbed hold of Kira to pull him towards their friend.

Despite Renji’s initial exuberance, it was clear that neither the redhead nor Shuuhei were in much better shape than he was. Yet despite knowing that, having the others nearby seemed to make it easier to keep fighting, to keep dragging himself up when he was thrown to the ground.

They kept on, moving forward through the chaos and destruction, taking out any of the enemy that they came across, or who had the misfortune to come looking for them. Until finally Kira slipped face first into the mud, his body long past its limit, his mind past caring if he lived or he died. Renji had disappeared off somewhere, chasing what seemed to be one of the last few remaining Arrancar. Up ahead he could just make out Shuuhei tearing into another pack of low level hollows; the creatures barely giving him pause, despite how long they had been fighting. He smiled and let his cheek sink into the soft mud. The rain continued to fall across his abused body, the droplets feeling almost soft against his skin. He needed to close his eyes, to sleep, to dream. He knew what that meant, of course, but he had been past the point of no return for a while. He didn’t think it would matter what happened to him now; there were still too many enemies on the battlefield for him to be allowed to leave it alive.

For a while he laid there, listening to the sounds of the battle around him. He could feel his muscles growing stiff, as he laid in the cold and wet. He gripped Wabisuke tight in his hand, fearful that he would lose his beloved Zanpakutou to the mud, as the feeling in his fingers started to fade. He had learnt quite a lot over the last few years, he would have no regrets, save for maybe one. He closed his eyes; he wasn’t letting go, but he was content to wait and see what would happen next.

Despite his new-found calm something started to nag at him, something familiar pulling painfully at his memory. It was a few moments before he managed to put the feeling of pain and dread together with the growing reiatsu that was spreading across him. Blinking his eyes open in a second, he forced himself to his knees and scanned the destruction for his former captain.

His stomach lurched into his throat, as he saw the silver-haired resident of his nightmares a few dozen meters ahead of him, Shuuhei’s short spiky hair grasped in his hand, Shinso’s blade spearing the tall shinigami’s side.

Kira had always wondered how he would feel if he was he to ever see his taichou once again, wondered whether the old feelings of love and fear would reappear. Whether he would be able stand up to him, or whether all his hard won self-reliance and trust would be wiped away like it had been so many times before. But seeing him standing there, his ever present grin focused on one of his oldest and best friends, he found that there was no doubt in him at all. Pushing himself to his feet, he gathered every last shred of resolve he had left.

Ichimaru never knew what hit him. By the time he had noticed his one-time subordinate’s movements, Wabisuke had done his job and the sliver-haired man was on his knees, his smile finally slipping as Kira’s blade sliced across his throat—red blood flowing out over brown mud.

Kira dropped his blade as he turned to Shuuhei’s slumped form, hands reaching out to catch him as he started to fall forward. He dropped to his knees, and found the dark haired shinigami looking up at him. Shuuhei’s hand came up to tangle in the back of his hair, black eyes searching his for a moment, before the taller shinigami finally brought their lips together. The kiss was brief, full of grit and mud. After a moment Kira pulled back a little, heart racing, to rest his forehead against Shuuhei’s.

“I never knew if I would...”

“I always believed in you.”

“When I saw…”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

Kira let his eyes close. In the distance he could hear Renji shouting for them, wanting to know if they were all right. He raised his hand to acknowledge him, before letting it drop. He could still feel the battle continuing up ahead, but for better or worse, their part in it was probably over.

With Renji on Shuuhei’s other side, the two of them helped their friend to his feet. For a moment his eyes brushed across Gin’s body, where it lay in a puddle of muddy water, and he felt his friends tense. Steeling his resolve, he turned away with barely a second glance.