He wasn’t moving. Yukio wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing, no sound was coming from him—he didn’t even make any response to his name. Panicking was definitely something the Tenth’s Captain didn’t do, and it was probably rare to even see him blink at most things. This was different—this entire situation was different. He’d finally used shunpo to rest on a nearby roof, not to far from where it had all happened. Hitsugaya’s attention was no longer on the traitor and murderer just a few yards away. And it wouldn’t be anywhere else until he was certain Yukio was alive.
He didn’t look like it. He looked—…dead. And the prodigy had seen enough bodies to know what one looked like when life left it completely. Yukio and the word dead didn’t go together—it didn’t even sound right in his head, in the same sentence. It made the Captain feel sick to his stomach, in fact. Wordlessly, Toshiro stared down at the motionless Fullbringer, who’s head was resting on his lap, lolling to the side. Like Toshiro had originally thought, his shoulder had been dislocated when he’d been grabbed out of the air so quickly and suddenly. Sometimes, it was hard to remember how fragile Yukio could be.
It took the white-haired a few moments to realize he could hear something—a sound. Maybe it was because he could hear blood pulsing through his ears. It was better than hearing the sickening silence. The sound was low, soft. And it also took him awhile to realize it was coming from himself—a faint wheezing, as if he were out of breath, panicking, frantic. And he was, his hands were grasping at Yukio’s bloody clothes, shaking, attempting to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding.
It wasn’t working. Nothing was working.
"Calm down…" He whispered to himself—his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, he could barely make out the words. "Calm down…use Kido…use a spell…" At the moment, he couldn’t even think of one. He couldn’t remember any of his training, nothing. It was like everything vanished in one swipe. Just like Yukio’s life; just like that time with Hinamori. The Captain hadn’t been particularly listening to what Aizen was saying, his words didn’t matter much, after all. He did, however, snap his gaze up from Yukio when he spoke Hinamori’s name.
"…Bastard…" He deserved to rot—deserved to die in the worst way possible. There it was again; that uncontrollable anger that rose, out of the young Captain’s control. His reiatsu was rising dangerously at that point, shaking hands gripping Yukio’s tattered coat in his hands. He didn’t move from his spot, gaze never flickering away from Aizen.
"…You killed him…You murdered him…For what?” Maybe if he were thinking correctly, he’d be able to tell something was off, something was definitely different about the Fullbringer lying still in front of him. But there was nothing stopping him from grabbing Hyourinmaru once more with a bloodied hand, fingers wringing around the hilt until it began to hurt.
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