The silence this evening in Hueco Mundo is nearly deafening.
Until I sit alone in my private study I never seem to notice, and at the end of the night I always seem to forget. In complete honesty I find myself missing the crickets, the wind chimes, the sounds of Soul Society. That place is by no means my home, but one never really appreciates the simple whispers in the dark until there is nothing save pressing silence that is powerful enough to burst eardrums. The nights here in Hueco Mundo remind me of sitting in a void, and it never fails that the silence brings about my darkest plots. My more sinister plans, and my worst memories seem to haunt me in my solitude.
While I sip my tea, so slowly it grows cold, thoughts of Hinamori cross my mind. Most of the time they are so fleeting that it is as if they go in one ear and out the other, but tonight my book of choice was not catching my attention as I had hoped. As a result my thoughts wandered deeper.
Could I honestly say I regret abandoning the poor child?
Well, no.
In my attempt to learn from Shinji Hirako's mistake, I kept my subordinate too close. Who would have thought that Hinamori and I would have actually shared common interests? A child of her appearance would never look the type to enjoy chats in the afternoon about philosophy and intellect, or be willing to work so hard to push herself forward just to please another. When she had failed to kill Hitsugaya, I cannot lie away my disappointment. While the whole scheme was a plot to get her killed and put the lovesick girl out of her misery, I sincerely thought that if she truly placed me above all that she would have killed him. Or at least made a scratch.
Even so I suppose the fact that she confronted him was impressive. I still cannot decide which it displays more: My hold over her, or her adoration for me.
Touching her was a mistake on my part. What I had intended only to be a simple game of seduction, of luring her forward and making her want more, had turned into a dangerous recreation that persisted for years. Not long after she became my Vice-Captain I caressed her cheek, and she molded against my hand. She pressed her lips to mine timidly, and having not experienced such a touch in so long I responded with more need that she was happy to fulfill and satisfy.
Naturally this made Gin quite angry.
"You are getting too close to a child," he hissed in my ear one day as he passed.
At the time I simply smiled and shrugged it away. What a fool to risk putting our charade on display over a little plaything. A jealous fool. It was his behaviour that made me press forward, I must admit. Toying with him over the years was quite entertaining, almost more so than my late night visits with Hinamori.
However when those thoughts cross my mind, even at night I push them away. Any ounce of regret, any gram of feeling would not only complicate my plans in the long term, but also risk my respect with the Espada. Still sometimes I cannot forget.
Always Hinamori was eager to please. Her round eyes reminded me of a young pup's, glossy and glazed over with affection and adoration for me. Even with Hitsugaya she never wore that expression. I understood that it was a special expression, one only for my eyes, and even still I am quite flattered. From the beginning I never intended to be her mentor, and sadly I must admit I did a decent job until I betrayed her.
No, not betray. I could not have betrayed her since I never was the man she thought. It was all misinterpretation on her part.
Even still that first mishap should have been the last. When Hinamori summoned up the strength to kiss me, I thought that the very least I could do was reward her courage. The scent of her still lingers in my memory. She smelled of fresh grass and spring flowers. Sometimes after our evenings together I could still smell the black tea on her hands when she cupped my face in them as we kissed.
Not a day goes by when I thank the gods for the lack of grass and nature here.
Unfortunately with every cup of tea before bed, before every sip at morning summons I look into the bottom of the liquid and stare at the dregs. Once in a blue moon we have green tea instead of black, but even then I am forced to send memories into retreat until I am in solitude.
I close my book.
Reading was a vain escape, but even someone of my abilities cannot escape the will of their own subconscious. My tea finally too cold for taste, I discard it and make my way to bed.
I recall how startled I was at the softness of Hinamori's hands. Usually a Shinigami does not have smooth, warm hands due to continuous sword use, but Hinamori's were as light and gentle against my skin as silk. We pressed further one evening. The first night that there was more between us, and one of the only nights I remember in full detail. She asked me if she should, and I told her that the choice was hers to make. That I was content if we never touched again.
"Really, Captain?" she asked. I could hear the tears in her voice before I ever saw them in her eyes, and quickly I told her no, that I would not be content.
Then I took her chastity. I was gentle, more than I ever imagined I could be, and impressively so for a man just donning a façade. Even I doubt the validity of it, but I reassure myself that there was no chance I ever truly desired her. It was all to appease her needs, and not mine, for such carnal needs are below those of my standard. The words I whispered to her as we lay entwined in the soft light were nothing but lies spoken only in the heat of the moment, not out of truth or feeling. The only reason the memory plagues me is because I made a dreadful error, had a lapse in judgment.
Just as I felt myself slipping into sleep there was a knock at my door. I pushed aside my covers, and slid on my robe. It was the same one from that night, a keepsake if you will.