He hated this.
The way he couldn't understand her.
He simply didn't see the reasoning behind her idiocy- her trust in those nakama of hers, smiling (Smiling! Was she completely and utterly mad?!) at her captors. He had nearly even asked her why, but thankfully, caught himself in time and just curtly ordered her to sleep, before stalking out.
He had never needed emotions, and prided himself on being just as he should be- cold, empty. He was a hollow, in every sense of the word.
Which was most likely why he was so confounded by this girl.
She was full of those stupid things, feelings. They shined from her. Like a halo, or sun, or star. (Why was he making comparisons? he asked himself.)
Her gift, even, was completely wrapped up in those emotions. She healed by desperate want for things to unhappen and reverse themselves. (He disliked that, too. What was done was done. It should not unravel from its tightly tied knots of time.)
He resisted even negative emotion, but could not deny himself the repulsion at his own ignorance. He wanted to ask, but he couldn't. She would smile and answer and he would be lost, completely and utterly lost. He would feel. (Insert shudder here, for anyone but him.)
(Anyone who could be swayed by their heart, anyone he was, as he called it, weak- anyone who had a heart to be swayed.)
She even dared to tell him that he could find his heart, once.
He had made sure that would never happen again.
He didn't think he'd stand hope.