Formalities

"It was never my place to hold you the way he does."


It had been two days since she had talked to the tenth division captain, that penetrating gaze of surprise patronized her through the screen.

'Don't stare at me like that, like I'm your mistake…'

It was the second time she had awoken in this bed. White sheets. White walls. Their uniformity sat there and mocked her at what little dignity she had left. In truth she was afraid of change. A confused swelling garble of emotions had her suffocating in an ocean of shattered certainties and elusive dreams.

She wasn't mad at her captain, she was disgusted with herself.

When had she let one man become the pinnacle of her life on which her entirety depended upon? Blindly following and naively pursuing what she thought to be a vice-captain's dream. Her dream.

Everything she had built so carefully for herself, every memory, was built towards him.

She wouldn't cry, not for herself at least.

A sharp rap on the paper screen to her room forced the girl from her reverie, she said nothing and the door slid open.

"How are you feeling?" The blond third division vice-captain managed a dry smile to escape onto his lips, nervousness was visible in every pore of him, Hinamori and Kira had been too close in their school days for her not be able to read him.

"Fine."

Not Fine. Everything within herself was in utter turmoil. She felt… soiled, mentally raped and used. She berated herself, demanding why she had been so naïve and when she had become someone that could be tied around someone's finger-

A gentle brush on her hand, and she locked eyes with her old friend, reminded of his presence, and the pain he suffered as well. Another swell of guilt broke upon her, he had suffered just as she has, felt the betrayal of the one he looked up to, and yet he sat here pampering her.

'I'm even more pathetic.'

Kira watched her intently, her eyes constantly shifting, and he gave her the time to think. Being with her for so long, he knew how strong she was, and how much pride she had for herself. Kira had never been the one to meddle.

The distressing look in her eyes, the way her brows knit together, and the way her pink lips parted and closed in futility as if to confess something, anything, that would relinquish her from the torment that seemed to pursue her since her wake.

She wasn't upset of Aizen's betrayal, not as disturbed as she was with her own.

She was as bad as Aizen. She couldn't erase the shock looked on Hitsugaya's face as she rose her blade against him.

'That was betrayal.'

Her eyes turned glassy and began to sheen over with excess water. She wouldn't let herself have the liberty of self-pity.

'I'm at fault… these tears, I swear they don't fall for you…'

She lost. Droplets of her inner turmoil fell in small pathetic patterns against her futilely outstretched fingers. She had let her pain elude her in this liquidated mocking state, these tears were her weakness.

Kira couldn't understand, inwardly he himself was at a loss for action.

Hesitantly he raised his hand lifting her head so her eyes locked with his, he needed to connect with her, before she drowned in herself.

Her head raised she saw his zanpakutou, Wabisuke, at his side.

"Spar. Kira… Kira let's spar."

It was all she had time to spew out, she needed something to help her break herself, she needed an outlet.

'Let me break…'

Kira remained shocked only for a short moment before nodding his head reluctantly.

'If this is all I can do for you, I'll do it…'

It was an awkward sight to see, Kira in standard shinigami garb and Hinamori in her white sleeping yukata. The hilt of tobiume seemed to burn at her touch.

The last time she had stood like this with Kira, was when she had betrayed him.

It started out cleanly enough, she attacked first. Which surprised Kira, usually she was one to take the defensive stance. Her movements were quick and fluid, as if she moved only to hear the clash of metal, but each strike was decisive as if she intended to chip away what she felt inside her.

Kira parried each blow cleanly, eyes fixated on her expression. He wanted to help cure her in so many ways. It was never his place.

She continued to strike, but her accuracy declined with each blow. Rain had begun to fall, Kira stopped, pure concern for her well-being written on his features.

'Stop looking at me like that… like I'm your mistake.'

"Hinamori, we should get back inside, your body is already weak…"

They were the words that she didn't want to face. Weak. Everything washed over her like the rain that now fell in fat droplets penetrating to her skin.

She had defended Aizen in the end, not only out of loyalty, but in defense for herself, in defense towards her whole life being a mistake until now.

She felt short of breath, she needed to hear it… the clash of her sword against Kira's to drown out her thoughts. He had stopped fighting and sheathed his sword. Her hands trembled, unsure of what do with the feelings that continued to brim up in her soul.

Tears fell against her will, and she wanted them to stop, what good did crying do her? Every time she cried, she wished people wouldn't look at her like that, with that expression of pity in their eyes. She couldn't see their concern only her own weakness.

"I don't know what to do with myself."

It was the vaguest thing she could say to encompass all that she was feeling. She hadn't notice Kira come within inches of her body.

He longed to reach out to her, to wipe the black locks that stuck to her rain-soaked face away and to feel her form along his. It was never his place. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder instead. He couldn't offer her anything else. He would do anything for her, but he couldn't. Wasn't his place.

She stopped shaking amongst her tears. She knew it wasn't Kira's fault, but a new feeling of utter rejection encompassed her, and she hated it. She hadn't expected him to do anything else, it was unreasonable of her, and yet, why did she still feel upset and somehow let down. Had she grown so desperate that she just wanted to be held by another?

She remembered her captain's pat of her head, the contact that she savored more than anything else.

She smiled up at Kira, his blond hair a sheet in the rain.

"Kira, Thank you."

'I'm pathetic, and I won't burden you anymore.'

She sheathed her zanpakutou, in a stiff silence, like if she had reached the eye of the storm. Chaos had simply stifled her actions.

Kira watched her figure, knowing that he could do no more for her.

It wasn't his place.

Her thanks, words intended for relief, only plagued him more as he watched her walk away in the rain.

He fell to his knees.

"Hinamori… I'm sorry… it was never my place."


Intention for this chapter was just to set the amount of guilt Hinamori has pinned to herself. I'm still building the setting in a way. Hinamori is completely in despair because she doesn't want to be looked down upon and feel dependent on someone, at the same time she fights the loneliness of the isolation she puts herself through. I'm trying to emphasize her as truly a stronger character than a damsel in distress.

Sorry, no, Hitsugaya in this chapter, but don't stress this was very Kira oriented, but the rest of the story focuses on the main pairing.

Thank you for the Reviews!

Sango Hikari: So much turmoil in both characters, I just hope I can express it accurately.

Tarame: Thanks! I really cherish when you say it's well-written, I'm still developing some kind of dramatic style to befit this fic.

White Pizza: Believe it or not, I wrote and rewrote the summary three times, so I'm happy that it caught your attention, and I hope the upcoming chapters fulfill your expectations.