Shot Through the Heart
WHO: Ishida Uryu, Kuchiki Rukia, Abarai Renji, maybe some other people later if Renji or Rukia make a journal entry.
WHAT: Ishida and Rukia's nightmares.
WHERE: Bleach house.
WHEN: Midnight.
It felt like he had been running from the hail of arrows forever. The hours and days and possibly even weeks had faded away in the face of the constant threat to his life, the only thing giving him a sense of time at all being the constant flare of his nakama's reiatsu beyond the confines of the room, the constant danger they were in, reminding him all too keenly of how he was failing them every moment he wasn't out there fighting alongside them, every moment he wasted trying to gain his powers back.
And yet he ran on, ran with all his speed and strength, ducking, dodging, weaving with all his might for his very survival, ragged cuts from close calls criss-crossing his body as he faced down Ryuuken.
Ryuuken. Ryuuken, the man who had proven Uryu was not the last Quincy. Who had proven Uryu was talentless next to him, who hadn't even wanted to be a Quincy, who didn't even see any value in being a Quincy. Uryu was, in the face of this man, nothing, nothing but a failure, and constantly, constantly, from the back of his mind he could hear the whispers of not only his father, but his nakama, naming his weaknesses.
Stubborn.
Blind.
Idiotic.
Weak.
Coward.
Talentless.
No matter how hard he pushed himself, it was never quite enough, and more and more the arrows from the hail cut into him, slashing at his sides and arms and legs and cheeks, until finally he was left a drained, bloody, battered wreck, panting and helpless on the floor.
The only word approaching the look of cold disdain on Ryuuken's face as the Quincy approached his son was "sneer". The bow drew taught one last time.
"Useless."
The arrow pierced 19 millimeters to the right of his heart, his world engulfed in pain and that last word from his father.
WHAT: Ishida and Rukia's nightmares.
WHERE: Bleach house.
WHEN: Midnight.
It felt like he had been running from the hail of arrows forever. The hours and days and possibly even weeks had faded away in the face of the constant threat to his life, the only thing giving him a sense of time at all being the constant flare of his nakama's reiatsu beyond the confines of the room, the constant danger they were in, reminding him all too keenly of how he was failing them every moment he wasn't out there fighting alongside them, every moment he wasted trying to gain his powers back.
And yet he ran on, ran with all his speed and strength, ducking, dodging, weaving with all his might for his very survival, ragged cuts from close calls criss-crossing his body as he faced down Ryuuken.
Ryuuken. Ryuuken, the man who had proven Uryu was not the last Quincy. Who had proven Uryu was talentless next to him, who hadn't even wanted to be a Quincy, who didn't even see any value in being a Quincy. Uryu was, in the face of this man, nothing, nothing but a failure, and constantly, constantly, from the back of his mind he could hear the whispers of not only his father, but his nakama, naming his weaknesses.
Stubborn.
Blind.
Idiotic.
Weak.
Coward.
Talentless.
No matter how hard he pushed himself, it was never quite enough, and more and more the arrows from the hail cut into him, slashing at his sides and arms and legs and cheeks, until finally he was left a drained, bloody, battered wreck, panting and helpless on the floor.
The only word approaching the look of cold disdain on Ryuuken's face as the Quincy approached his son was "sneer". The bow drew taught one last time.
"Useless."
The arrow pierced 19 millimeters to the right of his heart, his world engulfed in pain and that last word from his father.