Secret Memo Number Ten – Violated Haori
Memo to self: Ensure that this time, the servants do in fact burn the item of clothing I instruct them to destroy... if it can be recovered, that is. No, not the tainted shihakusho – that will be spared for now – I refer instead to the haori that was so disgustingly impaled on the sword of that misshapen freak, Zommari Rureaux.
The whole sordid business very nearly cost me an arm and a leg, literally. How repulsive that he first thrust a phallic symbol through my spotless haori, then tried to make my limbs his own through his "Amor". I promise that if he were not already dead, he would be deader. I want to cut my limbs off just thinking about the way he took control of them. Having a leg humped by Komamura is nothing compared with that violation by Zommari.
Even more unforgivable, he looked at Rukia. Looked. At. My. Rukia. The audacity of him – actually looking at her, so far above himself, with not two eyes but fifty. That presumptuous, puffed-up, oversized pumpkin was finished from the moment he turned one of those ugly orbs of his Brujeria in the direction of what was mine.
That he attempted to possess her was unforgivable. I almost wish I had kept him breathing just so that I could hollow him out and carve him up alive into a holiday decoration, which I would then dump somewhere over the North American continent in late October. I have indeed been researching North American customs, but nothing suitable for Rukia has emerged in the courtship department.