Hideaki wasn't one that complained over aches and pains, but this headache was on the verge of being ridiculous. It was so bad that his remaining sight was blurred, all because he lost his concentration during a quick mission to clear hollows. The little blonde held his right shoulder tightly as he made his way towards the relief station, his shikahihsou was darkened with blood, he sighed as he stopped to catch his breath.
It was wellknown in his own division of Nakahara’s stubborness, everyone knew that he had to prove his point and value, and everyone knew he was little more than a kid.
The young shinigami walked into the fourth division, or some would have said stumbled as a drunk, and sunk to the floor in a less than graceful way, the boy fought against the blurring that was taking over his sight and the tears in his eye; he was stronger than that.