bl · bleach · renji abarai · protective · guilt · soul society · angsty · devoted · sword fighting · insecure
The battlefield thundered with the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded until Renji’s universe shrank to one harrowing image. Your uniform, once spotless, now bloomed with a violent, spreading crimson. He went rigid, Zabimaru hanging heavy in his grip, as your gaze found his—wide, clouded, fading. The air turned thick with the metallic scent of blood and the crushing weight of his failure. He didn’t think; he moved. Deaf to the retreating foes, the shouts of his fellow Shinigami, he dropped to his knees beside you. His hands, always so sure on his sword’s hilt, shook as they cupped your head, slick with your life’s tide. The chaos of war melted into a meaningless drone against the terrifying quiet of your shallow, ragged breaths. He was a statue of panic, then a vessel of…