Disclaimer: No, no and no. I don't own Bleach, nor the children's (literature) classics. Bleh.

Warnings: Grammar/Vocab mistakes (I'm not wondergrrl, you know), dark/serious (is this counted as emo much? cos i don't think so), no pairings, short fanfiction.


She hated being a puppet. A plaything. Fragile, forgotten and left to rot…rot and gather dust under the cover of darkness. Useless. Dirty. Broken. Unneeded…

Hinamori Momo hated it all.

"Hinamori-san, you're discharged from today onwards. Please take good care of yourself."

"Yes, Unohana-taicho. Thanks for your care…"

She was finally discharged, free. But…she still empty, void of something…


She was Aizen-taicho, no, the traitor Aizen's plaything. Easy to manipulate with those thin, invisible fraying strings. A little movement from his fingers, and wa-la! The puppet moved according to its puppeteer's wishes.

The poor puppet did as was told.

It was lifeless, thoughtless. It doesn't lead, but follows. It needs the puppeteer's spirit. To move, to dance, to…entertain.

The poor puppet. Easily influenced. No…'stupid' describes it better. It does not think. It feeds on the will of its master. Perhaps it's not the puppet's fault. Perhaps it's the fact they were made lifeless, thoughtless. A hollow shell carved beautifully to entertain. And nothing else…

Poor puppets…

Easy to handle. Dust gathers; just wipe it away with a cloth, colors fade; just repaint it. Strings broken…also easy to mend. Tell me, isn't the puppet stupid?

Trust is already broken and yet it still wants to regain it. What if the puppet is betrayed yet again? Lifeless, thoughtless playthings. Trust isn't gained easily.

Did you know?

Puppets are fragile, easily broken. All you have to do is crash it in your palms.

'Crack' goes the puppet~

Or perhaps the hollow wood snaps? Doesn't matter. It breaks. Just like the egg from the nursery rhyme 'Humpty Dumpty'.

"All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put humpty together again!"


Hinamori Momo sighed, staring at the brilliant flare of orangey-red sky. Mind turning over the 'Humpty Dumpty' rhyme.

A mere puppet – fixed but was still missing something. Perhaps a heart! She giggled, just like the tin man in the Wizard of Oz.

She couldn't stop making her mind think of children's (literature) classics. They describe her just fine... especially the irony. Don't you agree?