Title: Angels of the Battlefield

Anime: Bleach

Pairing: None, really. Slight hints of Hanatarou x Unohana.

Rating: Teen

Warning(s): Slightly detailed medical stuff, talk of blood, lots of talk of death.

A/N: Nyeh... it's not been checked by anyone other than me and I tend to miss stuff, so... I apologise for any misspellings or wierd grammar.

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The blood-red sky over SeiReiTei was a mirror image of the ground, as war between Aizen's army and Soul Society waged.

Blood splattered on his hakamashita as Yamada Hanatarou pressed down onto the gashed chest of a wounded shinigami. He had seen numerous scenes like this in the previous weeks, the surroundings hazed with death and sweat, cries of battle to be heard from the distance. Hanatarou was beginning to find it hard to breath in the thick, hot air, but he panted heavily and managed to get enough oxygen inside him that he could push a bit more reiatsu into the wound.

The man layed beneath him groaned and tensed, trying to move away from Hanatarou's hands.

"Pl-please, sir! You must stay still! I have to stop the bleeding and close your wound!"

The man grew frantic and smacked the small boy hovering near him, shuffling away the best he could. Hantarou felt a bruise forming on his temple and reached up to feel blood seeping from under his hair. A dizzyness almost overtook him as he watched his unwilling patient being forcibly healed by a higher-ranked officer. Hanatarou couldn't understand it. His whole life, until now, was spent as a janitor, a servant practically. Before, he'd been lucky to get a job more important than cleaning the sewers. He could never have guessed, no, never have even imagined that something like this could really happen to him. He was expected to go from sweeping floors to saving lives.

He could vaguely hear sobbing from an unseated shinigami near him, who'd probably just lost her patient. He listened in remorse at the agony in her voice, the terror. The sights around Hanatarou began fading and he slowly leaned backwards, surprisingly not to the ground, but into two soft, strong hands. He was being gently pushed back into a sitting position. Fingers lightly brushed againts the cut on his head, and he got the warm, tingling sensation you only feel when someone is using healing kidou on you.

Hana opened his eyes and looked onto the face of Unohana-taichou. There was sweat dripping down her face and strands of hair that had released themselves from her braid were sticking to her cheeks and forehead. In truth, she looked a mess, with blood smeared all over her white obi and her sleaves tied back sloppily, but the look of gentle determination on her face brought out her true beauty. Hanatarou doubted he had ever seen Unohana-taichou look this... human.

"U-Unohana...Taichou...."

Unohana smiled at her seventh seat, looking from his forehead into his eyes.

"Yamada Hanatarou-kun," The Captain rested her hand kindly on Hanatarou's cheek. "You are a great help to Fourth Division. Please..." Her eyes showed her honesty. "You must continue to help us heal and save our fellow members of the Gotei 13."

Hanatarou understood what she meant as she spoke to him, and turned his eyes down. This had never been a time to be questioning why he was there. The only answer to that at the moment was this: to help. To try to save the lives of his friends, and all shinigami. It was his duty.

With a look of resolve on his young face, Hanatarou stood up and rushed into the midst of the chaos.

- - -

It was quiet. The only sounds were that of crickets chirping and every now and then a small 'clink' of metal on metal. It was calm that night, perhaps the first chance to rest many had had in weeks. The fiery sky had melted to a deep, dark blue littered with stars. Almost no battling was to be held this evening, much to the relief of Fourth Division.

Only, Hanatarou could not shake the feeling that this was simply the eye of the storm. Everyone could sense the enemy just beyond sight, and they were planning. Waiting for the right time to make the final strike. The killing blow.

Hanatarou stumbled through the crumbling remains of the Fourth Division barracks, just one of the many buildings to be caught in the crossfire of the war. He walked straight past his own destroyed room; there was never anything there anyway. His hands slid up and grasped at the strap on his medical kit. So many lives had disappeared before his eyes in only a few weeks. He'd seen shinigami he'd known for years crumble in a manner of seconds. And for what? He didn't even know anymore... Tears began to well up in his eyes and he quickly squeezed them shut.

"Hantarou-kun?"

At the melodic, motherly voice emerging from behind him, Hanatarou spun around, almost losing his footing.

"Unohana-taichou!"

The Captain's appearance was far different from the way she'd looked the last time they'd spoken. This time, she was polished neatly, not even a strand of hair out of place. She wore a kind expression, her lips tilted into a small smile.

"You shouldn't be wandering around alone, Hanatarou. Especially considering the current situation."

The younger gasped and bent into a bow.

"S-sumimasen, Unohana-taichou. I have been... thinking. I suppose I did not realise where my feet led me."

"It's alright, Hanatarou-kun. You are a capable shinigami, but you had best not let your mind wander so."

Hanatarou felt his face grow hot as he bent even lower.

"O-of course, Taichou. I will think before I do something next time."

She nodded approvingly.

'Ah, speaking of thinking, what is it that has been on your mind, Hanatarou? You seemed to be a bit troubled when I first came."

"Oh, that... I was, well, I was... I suppose I was just wondering... what really is the Fourth Squad here for?"

Hanatarou could not bring himself to look into his Captain's eyes as he said the words he'd been wanting to say for ages.

"I mean... the other squads all seem to think we're pretty useless, yourself excluded, of course, Taichou! But... at that time... you told me that we are here to save people. Only..."

His cheeks were wet by then, as hot tears freely poured from the boy's eyes.

"Only, if we are here to save lives, why can't we even do that?! I've seen so many of my friends die, die in the past few weeks! And... no matter how hard I tried... I couldn't save them!"

Hanatarou collapsed onto the ground, his knees scraping against the stone painfully. The meek woman stared down at her subordinate with sympathetic eyes.

"You ask... what Fourth Division is here for...? Well, I suppose... that members of Fourth Divison are the angels of Soul Society."

Hanatarou looke up at Unohana in confusion, but she seemed to be elsewhere. Her eyes were to the sky, half-shut and glazed over, as if deep in recollection.

"A-angels...?"

"Yes. Hanatarou, the position of the shinigami will always have one constant factor: death. Death is unavoidable, and we shinigami deal with it everyday. It is our cause. Without it, there would be no need for the Gotei 13 at all.

"However, Fourth Squad is not a division of death. We are a division of life. We take lives, yes. But our first priority is to save lives, mantain life in this world drenched with death."

The Fourth Squad captain closed her eyes, serenity washing over the entire area as she spoke.

"We serve a far greater purpose than we've been given credit for, Hanatarou-kun. Please, remember that. And be proud of your division in the future."

Words couldn't reach the boy's mouth as he watched his captain. When she looked towards him tenderly, smiling expectantly, all he could do was nod. In all his years, he had never heard something so beautiful about his own squad. His heart was swollen with happiness and pride, as he gazed into his captains eyes.

"Now, Hanatarou-kun... I believe we'd best be heading off to bed. It's late, and you never know what may happen tommorow."

Hanatarou smiled at her and gave an enthusiastic "Yes, ma'am!"

They both headed off to the Third Squad barracks, the temporary residence of Fourth Division.

All that was left to do now was wait for the morning, and try their hardest to bringe peace to the future.

End.

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A/N: I'm pretty sure that's the end. There's a chance I'll add more, but only if someone actually asks me to or I get really, reeeally bored.