Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

You Can't Forget

Prompt: "Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity." - T.S. Eliot


She finds herself wondering, more often than she'd like, if he ever really thinks about the results. From what she's seen, the answer to her inquiry is a resounding no, easily backed up by the incredible number of times she's been called down to the bowels of his division. Yet, not one experience has ever been the same, as the injuries had a habit of ranging anywhere from broken bones to missing limbs. None of it was ever new to her, being a doctor, but the surprise was always present.

How anyone could use themselves as a guinea pig was entirely beyond her.

Even more frightening, Retsu finds, is the lack of emotion and feeling; the way he just sits there, features changing as the realization of the mistake hits him. It's nothing short of abnormal, as the answer to the problem tends to manifest itself while in her presence. It's that gleam that picks back up again, the one that assures her that the words she's spoken have fallen flat.

Without even knowing, it swears that he'll start this all over again.

But that's what she can't understand. It's not insanity; not by any stretch of the imagination. As the head of a division of healers and caretakers, she's seen her fair share of lunacy. People of that nature don't have rationality as a part of their skill set. Most of them not even knowing what the word means. It's not her place to say, but Mayuri doesn't even scratch the surface. More than anything, she perceives it as some wild ambition; the insatiable desire to prove himself right in everything and anything.

A strange objective for a man who doesn't believe in perfection.

As she holds a completely different perspective, it's easy enough for her to see that there is a fine line between motivation, which he has plenty of, and mutilation. The fact that they seem to rhyme shouldn't be a reason for him to mistake the two. But, what with the rumors circulating throughout his division, the ones in regards to back-up brains, she's not so sure what he knows anymore.

Or how he spends his days off. Assuming, of course, he ever takes one.

Retsu's not unused to this kind of thing, the mishaps and experiments and blood, but it gets old, insisting that he pay attention to what she tells him as she works. Even if it's just once. She tries again, voice calm and level, but, as per usual, he's lost elsewhere. He just sits there, staring; that brimming fire in his eyes.

Were it any other time, Retsu wouldn't have been quite so bothered. But, seeing how it's the middle of the night, she's rather unhappy. Had she the same mentality as he, perhaps it wouldn't be quite so unusual to be awake at such an hour. He seems to be awake around the clock, anyway. But, as the situation calls for her exact talents, it's rather tiresome.

"You're foolish," she says, only catching the words once they've left her lips.

In fact, she's the one who feels like a fool, saying something like that at such a time. It's infamous, that temper of his, and she's seen her fair share of it. It's never bothered her, but, should he snap at her this time, Retsu won't let it go easily.

The only response she receives is a sharp breath as he pulls away from her touch. That's right. She remembers now. He hates her division; hates to be handled; hates her.

In that case, why is she even here, mending broken ribs? Oh, that's right. Akon had come and asked her to, insisting that he'd had one of his spot-on feelings while taking care of the midnight round.

He looks to her almost as if he can hear them, her thoughts. Nerve-wracking, the way he watches her.

"Bastard," he says, probably in regards to the horned man. "Can't keep his mouth shut..."

No, he hadn't read her mind. He must have remembered that the researcher had rounds at this time of night. Not too surprising, as this man seemed to miss nothing.

Her words excluded, of course.

"Did you hear what I said, Captain?" she inquires, trying to ignore the cracking sounds his hand makes. She can't understand how that could be relaxing.

Mayuri doesn't look at her, clenching his teeth. "Of course."

"It's just not interesting enough to merit a real answer."

That's what she imagines he's thinking, as he seems to go out of his way to bother her. Perhaps it's not such a good thing that she holds her temper so well. Maybe, just once in a while, it would be worth a bit of wide-spread shock and embarrassment to just let him have it.

"You should look at people when you're speaking to them," Retsu says.

"I didn't think you' came here to teach a lesson on manners."

That does it. She stands, throwing her hair back over her shoulder as she stares at him. Forget unnerving; he's positively impossible. Nothing gets through to him. But, maybe...

"That's right," she says, sighing. "I didn't. In fact, I'm starting to think that I shouldn't have come at all."

He shrugs, not at all bothered by that statement. "Maybe not." There's a pause, his eyes resting on her while a light smirk tugs at his mouth. "But you did."

Retsu waves off the comment, kneeling to wipe her hands on a moist cloth that she's left on the floor. She's had quite enough of this. In fact, it would have been much better, at least for her, if she hadn't come at all. Injuries such as this could only cause him pain, not kill. Yes, she's heard the rumors, as they've been in circulation since before the time of the Ryoka invasion. Rumors that say he can only be offed by a well-placed blow to the head.

The invasion only served to prove the theory.

How he managed that is another one of the things she's not interested in knowing, but the thought sticks: More ghastly experiments.

She turns away, earning one of those maddening snickers.

"You won't leave," Mayuri says knowingly.

"Oh? And what makes you so sure?" Yes, just how is he so confident?

"You pity the weak, what's broken. And..." He looks rather satisfied with keeping her waiting. "...you're a bleeding heart."

That last part is what catches her off guard. Yes, she does feel sympathy for the weak, the wounded. But, does that really make her...?

"Don't deny it." He leans back, the glee gently fading. "Denial only serves to strengthen the argument against you."

She gives in, setting about her work again, ignoring the way he narrows his eyes at her. "If that's the case, then I'll say it again: You're a foolish man." She smiles, her reflection being thrown back at her. "Do you deny it?"

He scoffs at her. A sign that she's managed to turn his own theory against him. It's not something she revels in, but this is a special case. It's high-time someone taught him a lesson.

It's quiet now, nothing but the sound of crickets to guide her. She counts the number of chirps, wishing she could pinpoint their exact location. From what she's heard, they're clever little creatures, acting very much like ventriloquists, throwing the sound of their calls so as to hide themselves. There's some way to find where they are. Something similar to determining how far away lightning is from one's location.

Retsu tries her best to look mad, to stay mad, but it's not going so well. Having trained herself in compassion, she's learned to feel the pain of her patients. No exceptions.

Even so, she's found something else to plague her mind. Another mystery, as it were. It's a strange one, as are all questions in reference to this man, but she's actually interested in knowing the answer. In fact, it's an idea that has come to her on numerous occasions, only to be discarded for lack of a good assumption.

Now, she decides, is as good a chance as any to ask. Even better, as there's nobody about to pry.

"What is it you fear, Captain?" she says. "That is to say, is there a reason behind your secrecy, or is it just your way of doing things?"

He seems to have forgotten about everything else, as he looks rather nervous. She's only just discovered a small part who this man really is, his face, but the former expression of shock makes the return of a venomous glare look far less threatening.

The answer to her question manifests with two very cold words: "No comment."

Retsu smiles, noting how quickly the response came. And with the fortunate absence of a snide addition. Again, she stands, finished this time.

"If you wish." From the corner of her eye, she sees him watching her suspiciously, growing tense as her hand moves to touch his face. "It's a shame," she says, lowering her gaze. "I really can't see why you'd choose to hide."

With that, she walks away, smiling as she goes. It's been an interesting night, and she's sure that the remainder will continue as such.

It's rather unlikely that she'll be able to forget his face.