I squatted down to provide my full, undivided admiration for the flower before me. The pearl colored flower emitted a golden aura that only amplified the radiance of it; my eyes became so entranced that they couldn't look away. The longer I continued to look at it, the more I wanted that flower for my own. I wanted to pluck it so I could admire it everywhere I went; revel in the fact that it belonged to me and no one else could have it.

The thought made me shiver from the excitement such a seemingly miniscule lifeform brought me. It felt as if I were wandering, and through my travels stumbled upon something magnificent that no one else knew about—a treasure meant for my possession only.

I tried to hide my grin as I slowly reached for the stem. This was the moment before obtaining my victory; the moment before this magical life form was mine and mine forever. My heart thumped with excitement as I extended my fingers to touch the beautiful stem.

My hovering hand was halted by another right before contact.

No. It was mine. They couldn't have it…

I traced the hand back to its owner, and gazed into the serious, aquamarine eyes he possessed.

"Don't." he said.

'Don't?' I was here first; I discovered this hidden gem amongst the weeds—it was mine. He couldn't have it. He couldn't tell me what to do. I—

"Look." He interrupted my aggressive, greed tainted thoughts.

I turned my head back to the flower and gasped as soon as my eyes fixed on it. The beautiful flower my hand still hovered near completely changed. Its petals had changed into a deep red with black veins pulsating throughout. The vine was now a withered brown with sharp, curved thorns begging to sink into flesh. The aura it now emitted was a soft black that seemed to reach out to caress my own hand.

I quickly pulled my hand back, fright now replacing the entranced, yearning state I was in. It looked repulsive now, and I was so confused by what had happened to the pristine flower that I didn't know what to say.

I wanted that flower back. I wanted to relish that unadulterated beauty once so close to being mine. He set his hand around my shoulder lightly, and I turned to look at him. His eyes were soft and filled with complete understanding—the concerned gaze making me just want to melt into him and forget I'd ever thought about it. He outstretched his other hand for me to take; a small smile on his face in an effort to assist one of my own to form.

Could I really trust this man? He seemed so comforting…but he just…I just...

-x-x-

My eyes fluttered open to that same ceiling as before. I was at Urahara's again.

I sat up, the pain of the stab I received still there, but nothing compared to the sickly screaming of my mind. Everything that happened was not okay. I was not okay. I…I stabbed and killed him. I was a murderer—I was no better than he was. The more my thoughts raced, the more I realized I couldn't be there. I was breaking. I didn't want anyone to see that.

I got up quietly, ignoring the grunts threatening to escape me as I pulled the sheets over the futon, put on my shoes and grabbed my purse. I slipped out of the room through the window since I didn't want to risk the chance of running into anyone. Once I was outside, I snuck around the house so as not to cause alarm, and right as I was about to leave the property, a black cat stopped me dead in my tracks.

The cat stared into me; those yellow eyes it possessed unusually focused for a feral cat. The gaze felt like that cat was trying to tell me something, but I didn't care about anything anymore. All my mind wanted was one thing, and one thing only.

I walked by the cat without another passing glance, and took out the cigarette I couldn't do any longer without. It wasn't until I brought the cigarette to my mouth that I realized the tracker bracelet was gone. I took a puff as I felt my now naked wrist with complete disbelief.

They actually did it—they actually freed me.

I didn't know I was actually crying until the tears rolled under my jaw and trickled down my neck. How many lives did it cost for my miniscule one to be salvaged? I wiped my face on my sleeve and shook my head as I continued forward.

After a few more minutes, I finally reached an acceptable destination—a bar with a smoking section. I'd come across a convenience store and they directed me to the only bar open at 15:45 and I took it without any hesitation.

I sat down at one of the shaded outside tables that hugged the walls, and lit up another mentally-numbing stick wrapped in white paper. I took huge drags; the lack of oxygen to my brain making me waver with a light headed high that I needed to stay forever. The pitcher of beer I ordered came, and I drank it straight from the pitcher like the classy bitch I am—the quicker I got the carbonated liquid down the better.

-x-x-

I didn't know how much time had past anymore. I'd chugged two and a half pitchers with only one restroom visit in the shortest time span ever—the concept of it contributing to my alcoholism not fazing me in the least. I'd done something terrible. I wanted to lose myself; I didn't care how I got there as long as I got there. I wanted to get drunk and mentally check out of this situation long ago, but now with what I did, the urge became a necessity.

I murdered another human being.

While he deserved it, the thoughts that raced through my mind as I did it, and how I kept mutilating the body afterward was something that I just couldn't handle. I imagined all the words he'd ever said to me, and clung to them the more I stabbed through him. I understood why he took such pleasure in harming another human being as I myself was doing so to him.

Something about taking his life, and the way I mentally released myself for the action scared me shitless—I wasn't ashamed for it. Everything that went down was something that had to be done for my survival, but the way I felt when I executed my actions was something of another level.

It felt good taking his life.

After everything that he did to Miyuki, and moreover to me, he deserved what he got. I became completely enamored by the fact that I was avenging Miyuki along with my prior self. It was thanks to the day Miyuki died, and the day spent on that wooden table that I am who I am today—an angry, anxiety-filled, atrocity that views herself as an inferior maggot. While I squirmed my way out of the organization's facility, my own mentality was completely sealed thanks to him.

I am nothing. I am worthless. I am a mere object ready to be used.

Miyuki tried so hard to make me feel like I was worth something—like I was human. And I learned the hard way that she was wrong. All I was to them—and all I was to me—was a meat-sack taking up space.

But with what just happened, the part of me that still hurt and throbbed from those days came back to life for a vengeance. It completely took over all rational thoughts and wanted to do one thing and one thing only—make him pay ten times over. Death wasn't enough for him. If I'd been left alone with him longer, there isn't a doubt in my mind that I would've put that screaming saw on the floor to use. Remembering the thoughts I had of only slaughtering and mutilating him sent chills up my spine. Those thoughts of mine warrant me for abandonment. I didn't deserve to live. The horrible thoughts that raced through my mind made me no better than him. I was just as bad, and deserved the just reward I'd given him.

I was a Shinigami; while dealing with death and the dead was supposedly right up my alley, I wasn't supposed to take a human life like that. I was supposed to help humans by ridding them of the Hollows that dwelled among them, but I didn't do that. I killed a regular human being. I wasn't doing my job, I was extracting my sweet revenge to satisfy a sick fantasy I didn't know I possessed.

What was going to happen to me now? Was I going to be abandoned by the Seireitei for my actions? Was getting this tracker bracelet off even worth it anymore?

My thoughts strayed to Hitsugaya.

What must he think of me now? The damsel in distress he tried so hard to protect was just another worthless cretin. Was I his enemy now that I'd killed someone? Would I be sent straight to 'Shinigami jail' now because of what I did? I felt horrible about myself, but even more disgusted when it came to Hitsugaya's viewpoint of me. In honesty, I shouldn't give two fucks about what he thinks of me, but I just…

I opened up to him too much.

I wanted his acceptance, his care, and more than anything just his presence. I wanted to just wedge myself into him and never let go. I wanted to heal, I wanted to just be a normal person without wobbling on the edge of insanity and depression. Those eyes that gained him access into my own soul is where I wanted him to venture.

He wasn't Miyuki, but he…he made me want to live again.

I took my purse and wobbled out of the patio area. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't want to stay there any longer. I was getting an anxiety attack the longer I sat there; I wanted the cool air to smack me in the face, and to get away from the noise surrounding the bar.

The sun was starting to set now, and the land was now tinged in a mild orange as far as my eyes could see. I stumbled to a stop against a light pole to catch my breath; walking around while hammered wasn't my strong suit, and I almost always got tired and wanted to just sit. I took a moment to collect myself, the loud belch coming out in a low, feminine-restricting growl for once.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm myself, and I when I opened them, a man with brown hair was directly in front of me. Awareness of my surroundings was my second flaw during my intoxicated stupors.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" the male asked with a 'smooth' tone.

What a pick up line.

"Just swell," I slurred out sarcastically. I pushed myself off the light pole and turned my back on the guy.

"Hey, where's an attractive woman like you off to?"

"Clearly away from you—take a hint, swine."

"What'd you call me?" the man shouted as he caught up behind me.

I stopped and turned back around to look at the man. "You're just a thirsty swine trying to get laid. Your facial expression told me that within the first five seconds of your arrival. Had you have met me a week ago I would've obliged for some cold hard cash, but you didn't—you missed your chance. Go find some other whore to stick your dick in and leave me alone."

I didn't care what my foul mouth brought me anymore. If he wanted to hurt me then fine—have at it. After what I did, I actually earned mistreatment now, it wasn't just my pessimism settling for demise as my ultimate out.

He grabbed my shoulder in an angry vice grip, and I didn't even react. "Who do you—"

His hand was plucked off my shoulder immediately; his own grunt sounding as it happened.

"Is there a problem?"

I cowered at the voice. What was he doing here?

"None that's any of your fucking business," the man growled back at him.

"Tough luck; she is my business. Now if there isn't anything else you need, I'd suggest you be on your way." He told the man.

The man yanked his arm back, the gesture of him sticking his hands in his coat pockets sounding as he grunted and walked away. There was silence between the two of us, and my cowardice got the better of me—I didn't look up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

I didn't respond.

He took a step closer to me, to which I shuddered and turned around while drunkenly swaying.

"Kite—"

"W-Why are you here, Hitsugaya?" I stuttered out with a hiccup for added emphasis of my drunken state.

"I'm here because I was worried, Kiteyama."

I choked out a laugh. "Worried? Right; that's what this is—worry. A likely story."

"It's the truth—"

"The truth? Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Hitsugaya. You're not here because you're worried. You're here because it's your fucking job. You're not here because you care about me; you're here to make sure I'm not off doing it again—"

"Doing what again?" he countered.

"D-Don't play fucking stupid with me Hitsugaya! Or is that how you think of me now? Not worthy of even an explanation—what's the point to a mindless animal, right?"

"Kiteyama, you aren't making sense."

"I'm making perfect fucking sense!" I turned and shouted at him.

I didn't know what I was doing. Maybe it was the pent up anger about the whole situation coming out now that the initial panicked-anxiety step was over. Hitsugaya didn't deserve it, but I couldn't stop the emotional word vomit from coming up.

"Don't fuck around with me, Hitsugaya—we both know why you're here. You're a Taichou aren't you? You wouldn't just let a fucking murderer like me just waltz out of here—you're like a fucking cop; the peace-keeper that makes sure the undesirables stay in check. The one that makes sure no criminal is left without apprehension—right? That's what you do isn't it?"

He didn't seemed shocked by my outburst, but he was giving me his full undivided attention. Right when I looked at him—albeit beaming with frustration and anger—my heart beat in my chest fiercely at the invisible form of contact. I was emotionally spiking beyond my usual control, yet his presence alone sent cool, calming waves in an effort to settle the outburst.

"Kiteyama, that isn't wh—"

"Isn't what you're here for? Don't be so fucking vain! Stop treating me like I'm a fucking unintelligent piece of shit! You don't think I know what's going to happen to me? You're going to take me to the Seireitei, they're going to judge me for killing a human, and then I'm gonna be locked away again for eternity; right? You're not worried about me—you're worried about your own ass if you don't bring me in! I know y—"

"Kiteyama, stop." Hitsugaya took hold of both my shoulders.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to run until my legs couldn't take me anymore, but most of all what I wanted…

I looked down.

The tears that had escaped during my rant of infuriation dripped down onto the sidewalk. I watched as the light grey concrete became tainted with them and turned into a dark grey as the liquid soaked into it; too ashamed by the harsh words I'd said that I couldn't look up at him.

"W-What must you think of me now? A-Am I j-j-just as evil as they are to you?" I whimpered.

I felt like I was melting from the intensity of the moment; the alcohol within me clouding my surroundings with nothing but emotional pheromones that caused intensive sorrow and personal heartache.

His hands slid down my shoulders to my biceps in a slow, soft movement. I thought he'd take his hands away, but he kept them there, as if he was trying to draw me in.

"Kiteyama, will you walk with me?" he asked softly.

I lifted my hand to wipe away a few of the tears, and without looking up I slowly nodded for my answer.

"Here, come on,"

He let go of my shoulders, and stepped beside me before placing his right hand on the small of my back to nudge me forward gently. I complied and stumbled forward with him as I tried to suck up my tears.

Why did his opinion mean so much to me? I hated this—hated how I was becoming so attached to someone yet again. I was such a fucking leech.

We didn't walk too far; I had to stop a few times since it wasn't my strong suit, but nevertheless, we walked to the nearby riverbed. It seeped down into the land; grassy hills leading downward to it on either side with a few sets of concrete stairs here and there. With walking already difficult enough as it was, the stairs he led me to didn't help at all. I stumbled forward on the first step, and he luckily caught me before I tumbled down the rest of them.

"Here,"

He held his arm out for me to grab a hold of, and with the blush it caused to spread across my drunken face, I took hold of it rather than trying to prove myself as I normally would. I was still too drunk to be coordinated; if I tried to prove myself and not ask for any help, I'd only roll down these stairs and into the river with broken bones.

The touch had me nervous, but he didn't seem fazed at all; he was collected, calm, and cool as he always was. I kind of wanted some type of reaction from him, but then again, what was someone like me to expect?

We made it to the bottom of the staircase without casualty, and he led me to a nearby bench along the sidewalk that paralleled the river. He sat down next to me in a forward lean with his elbows resting above his knees; looking forward at the glistening river before us. I sat up against the backrest with my legs over one another and tucked under the seat. As I stared into my hands, the image of them bloodied and trembling from the other night flashed in and out each time I blinked. Water was on the rise again with the memory, but I just couldn't look away from them.

"Kiteyama,"

I gulped as my fingers twitched from anxiety; this was the part where he tells me that I'm right. My periphery caught him sitting up and turning to look at me; I continued to gaze into my hands rather than look into him as he sealed my fate.

"I'm sorry."

As the apologetic phrase processed, confusion swept through me as a result.

"What you went through was traumatizing; the others and myself were supposed to keep you safe, yet with the turn of events you slipped out of our grasp."

He rested a hand on my lap; an effort to show me just how serious he was about this. As I looked up at him, those uncontrollable tears that have plagued me all day escaped down my cheeks. I looked away from him in embarrassment; wiping away the saline droplets improper for a full grown woman to be shedding.

"Kiteyama," he began again; the way he said my name adding to the yearning within me to just bury myself into him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. You went through something horrendous due to my negligence, and you're wounded in more ways than one because of it."

Him—sorry? But he shouldn't be—I was the one who should be sorry. I should be the one that—

The light pressure from his fingertips on my lower thigh stopped all trains of thought ready to whizz through my mind. I looked up at him again, and let those piercing eyes right into me with open arms.

"I won't let them hurt you ever again, Kiteyama, I promise you," he told me.

The promise he made had my heart bounding; it was like he knew just what to say to make me drop my guard. He knew just how to loosen my hold on that steel door within me so he could be one step closer to creeping inside of me, and as much as I knew better than to let him, at this point it was all I wanted. In an effort to combat the feeling, I pumped out some of the pent up pessimism I've harbored all day to push that door back.

"Y-You don't have to promise me anything; I don't deserve it." I sniffled. "I killed a human; that warrants for you to stop caring about what happens to me. I broke a major law, Hitsugaya; I'm not stupid enough to assume there isn't going to be any consequence for my actions. You probably view me as an even more disgusting vermin than I was before—stop wasting your apologies and comfort on someone who doesn't deserve it,"

"I've told you before; you're wrong, Kiteyama—you do deserve it." He quickly responded. I looked back into him as he continued. "While you're correct about purposely killing humans being against the law, that's not what happened. I saw the state you were in; you were in a situation where your life was at stake. There isn't anything wrong with what you did; you did what you had to do to survive. I didn't come here to arrest you as you keep implying; I came here because I was worried about you. It doesn't have anything to do with my job or yours, and I'm not expecting any form of payment either; I'm here because you left, and I wanted to make sure you didn't get hurt. I failed to protect you once—I don't want to do it again. You're not 'vermin,' Kiteyama, and you never have been to me. You're an innocent soul that's been thrown into an unfortunate situation; that doesn't make you any less of a person."

I couldn't take it anymore.

I buried my face in my hands and just wept. I was so wound up by this entire mess of a situation that the dam finally broke and I couldn't keep myself together anymore. My entire body trembled as I tried to suck in air; my mind too far gone to care about how weak I looked.

"T-Thank you; I'm so s-sorry," I stuttered out through my choked sobs.

His hand left my lap, and he gently pulled me toward him.

"It's over now, Kiteyama; it's okay," he cooed.

I gripped the front of his shirt and pulled myself into him as if my life depended on it. He rested one of his hands on my back, and just let me have him. Whether or not this was his form of penitence didn't matter to me; all that mattered was that this was what I couldn't do another minute without—he was what I couldn't do another minute without.

What I'd said was true—I didn't want him to leave me. What was happening right now was what I've needed ever since Miyuki died; that comfort only another person I trusted could bestow—the type of physical comfort that I couldn't get anywhere else.

It was then that I began to feel something more than reliance for Hitsugaya; something that I couldn't put my finger on that left me in a light euphoric state. I was so attached to Miyuki, and I wanted her more than anything in the world, but it was such a different feeling with Hitsugaya.

I remembered the dream I woke up from earlier. Did he…mean more to me than I thought he did?