Flash Fic #1: Promise
Chad had followed Ichigo to Soul Society because of a promise to his friend, but he had followed Ichigo to Hueco Mundo because of a promise to himself.
As he fought his way through the wasteland of lost souls, he found himself able to empathize more and more with his unfortunate nakama. Chad wasn’t in love with Orihime. He wasn’t like Ichigo, and Orihime wasn’t like Rukia, as much as the poor girl wanted to be. He knew that Orihime desperately wanted to be like Rukia, especially where Ichigo was concerned. She wanted to be that pillar, to be needed like Rukia was, but that just wasn’t her part to play. He could understand that position. They both had so much desire to protect, but in the end, that desire would always be overshadowed by the actual abilities of others to do so.
His massive arms were tired, the strained muscles burning from the effort of his last battle. It didn’t help that it was the middle of the desert, and the entire landscape was working against him. He might have been from Mexico, but the hollow realm was completely different, a sort of monster in itself.
The further he got, the more it became apparent that this was quickly becoming the very definition of a suicide mission. Chad wondered if the others were aware of this fact, if it would occur to Ichigo that this decision was rash in ways that his decision to save Rukia couldn’t even compare to. As the war against the arrancar raged, he couldn’t help but doubt- though he still loved his friend, he didn’t have Orihime’s blind faith.
Chad kept his emotions steady. He would not raise his fist in anger, even if the hollows surrounding him had no qualms about killing. He would only fight for duty; this was a mission of duty, for his nakama. Chad felt a shiver of uncertainty.
They had had no idea what they were walking in to. The arrancar he just engaged worried him not just because they were similar in terms of their mutual attacks, but also because he seemed… almost human.
Couldn’t they just be rampaging monsters? It would make fighting a lot easier.
The thought was cut off by the cool burning of a curved blade as it carved its way through his chest. Despite the massive spray of blood erupting from his torso, his was in surprisingly little pain. He fell to the floor at the feet of the leering Espada, blackness closing in, as the pool of blood widened. Chad’s thoughts drifted as he sank into unconsciousness, not to his nakama, nor to his failure, but instead to the paradox that seemed to have enveloped his senses.
It was the desert- how was the blade so cold?