This was originally written for a writing challenge on livejournal. The original prompt was "a relationship that means more to one party than the other - learning to live with it" but the content of the story morphed into something different along the way.

Post-series speculation was merely used to go along with my prompt. I'm not saying that things will go one way or another.

She dropped in every night well after dark. Though she kept this late hour so as to not disturb anyone else, it was common knowledge that she made this trip. It was an unspoken rule that no one was to disturb her during these late night engagements. These days, people who had experienced what she had were allowed a certain leeway.

Kira would always have tea ready for her eventual arrival. This would suffice for most nights. She would drop in, bedroll in tow, to have tea and leave within the hour. But on other nights, she also brought along a bottle of sake that had surely purloined from the Fifth's storage facility. He had been shocked the first time it happened. By a certain point, it stopped being surprising and became expected.

On those nights, she would come dressed in an old night coat. The hem touched the ground and the bell sleeves hung awkwardly around her wrists. Though she was always careful about the way in which she would comport herself when she wore it, Kira could tell that she was naked underneath. She would shift to the side and expose a long strip of her leg or her sleeve would slip to reveal her shoulders. He could only hope that no one else saw or noticed this as she had walked the streets of Seireitei. They spoke about her enough as it was.

She would unfurl the bedroll and they would position themselves on the opposite ends. She would set out the cups between them and fill them liberally with sake. He always had second thoughts about whether or not he should partake in the alcohol. But he never let his hesitation show. He couldn't deny her hospitality.

Each time, he would reach out for his cup and then try to speak. He rarely got past "I" before her hand would jut forward and press itself against his lips.

"Shh, Kira-kun," she would say softly. "There's no need to speak."

"Why can't I speak with her, Vice Captain?"

Kira groaned before looking up from his work. The new sixth seat come into the Gotei 13 fresh from academy and filled to the brim with stories from the great war. He had made it his mission to speak with everyone left who had lived through it. Only two individuals remained: one who he found fascinating and the other who his did not. He was almost disturbed by the fresh faced enthusiasm the young man showed for his cause. It was as if he didn't realize that he should feel ashamed. "You mustn't disturb her. That's all," he said.

"But she has rejoined her squad," insisted the young man. "She has clearly decided to re-engage with normal society. And I, as a member of normal society, have a lot of questions."

They always do. Kira had watched scores of young cadets quiz her on the most intimate facts of the war. She always answered these questions with more grace and dignity than which her questioners had asked. It was as Hisagi had recently said to him: though the events of the war were recent, these people had no real knowledge of the players. The dead were not their friends. The traitors had not been idols or, dare he think it, lovers. The scars they saw were monuments to bravery and not living reminders of a wound. This was, to them, academic in nature.

It was ridiculous and he would not willingly send another well meaning ghoul to her side. He let his eyes shift back to his paperwork before saying, "There are plenty of people to ask about these things."

"But few of them knew Ai..."

Kira's eyes darted toward the direction of the voice and said, "You will not use that name in her presence!"

The young man's eyes grew momentarily wide. But he soon shook off the shock and said, "Surely she would like to speak of her friend, Hitsu..."

"You should not say that name either," warned Kira.

"But why? The Captain has been dead for..."

"We all know how long the Captain has been dead." Kira shook his head as he rose from his desk. He reached out to cup the young man's shoulder and said, "Listen, some of these things will never be old wounds for her. Do not discuss them unless she brings them up."

"But how will I know about these things?"

"Maybe you don't have to know. Or why don't you just ask me?"

"No offense, Vice Captain," he said through a sneer, "but I already know about all of that."

The drinking never lasted for very long. They would usually share two to three drinks before she cleared the bedroll of all objects. Carefully, she would untie the strap that bound her night coat before brushing it away from her shoulders.

Though he had seen it so many times before, he could not stand the sight of her scar. It was the brazen red uplift that marred the smooth expanse of her flesh. But more than that, it was a sign of so many failures. It was a distant reminder of raising his sword against her. It was a distant reminder of his naive loyalty to Ichimaru. And it was the ultimate reminder for that day. He had been so close to her before it happened. How could he have not noticed that something had changed?

He was always particularly careful not to touch it when he reached out for her. Usually, his hands would drift over her hips before latching on to them and pulling her forward. She never resisted.

Their mouths always seemed to fall together. They were both hungry the moment they made contact. She would always pull away panting before asking, "Aren't you going to take it off?"

From her mouth, the request almost seemed innocent. He always complied with a blush.

He found his sixth seat confronting her two days after their conversation. "Watanabe-san," he said as he stormed toward the two of them, "I see that you found the Vice Captain."

The young man froze wide-eyed as Hinamori continued to laugh. Still bubbly, she turned to Kira and asked, "So Watanabe-san is one of yours?"

"Yes and I can explain."

"There's no need to explain. Watanabe-san is a budding kidou expert and he wanted to know about the technique I used against her fracción . As you may know, I don't cover that in my course at the academy."

"She still won't say," said the young man sheepish. "It's as if the Vice Captain is full of secrets. There must be so many things you've known and never spoken of."

For an instant, the smile evaporated from her face. Kira wanted to interject and scold the young man. Even Watanabe recognized another meaning to his words and began to stammer. Her smile, however, returned and she said, "I'm an open book. Whatever secrets we may have had are forgotten to me or rotting in Hell with my former Captain."

"Oh no, I didn't mean..."

"It's of no matter." She brushed the tension away with a dramatic flick of her wrist. "Besides, I must be going. I have an old friend to visit." She hesitated as she turned to leave, Turning back, she said, "For a more interesting secret, you should ask your Vice Captain about the time he and Captain Abarai snuck into teacher's quarters during our time in the academy." She offered one last smile and left.

Kira followed quickly behind. He reached out to grab her arm and said, "I'm so sorry."

"It's not a bother. I mean, it's not like you can stop all of them." She pulled up a half-hearted smile and said, "We can deal with it tonight. I...I need to visit an old friend before my tutoring session begins. I can't escape the feeling that he's now so lonely."

"I could go with you."

"Don't worry. I will make it quick. One-sided conversations never last too long. Besides," she said as she glanced around him, "I do believe that your sixth seat has caught up with us."

He turned around and saw the sullen expression of Watanabe. He turned back to Hinamori and saw that she had already fled. From behind, he heard, "I'm sorry if I pushed too hard."

Kira took a moment to compose himself. He turned back to the young man and placed his hand on his shoulder. "There's only one way to begin this story: Captain Abarai was drunk."

Somehow, they would always manage to make it back to his bed. Despite her need to drag it with her, she never spent a night on that bedroll.

She would lie on her back with him curled around her. Her hands would absentmindedly stroke his hair as he pulled her closer to him. "Kira-kun," she would say.

"What is it?"

"You're the only one who understands." She would always say this.

No I don't. The words were always dangling from his tongue, waiting for their moments to shine. The two of them had gone through the same events but they were still worlds apart. He could never know what she felt. But he had let her go far too many times to ever fathom pushing her away again.

He would plant a kiss on the closest available bit of skin and whisper, "Let's sleep. It's been a long day." He would always hear her murmur some sort of agreement before allowing himself to drift off. The night was never truly over until she gave her blessing.