Bleach 1. The Unsheathed Sword

**From** **the** **Author**: Alright. Now that I'm done with my university exams, I'll have far more time to do other things. Like writing fiction. So here I am, writing this story. I do hope you like it. I'll put a lot of effort in it.

**Warning**: This story contains sexual themes, crude language, violence. It is narrated from the perspective of a perverted sadistic nihilistic misanthrope who deems life as an endless joyless string of suffering.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach. It is property of Tite Kubo.

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_**Sore Loser**_

Chapter One: **The** **Unsheathed** **Sword**

Heat. Dense, suffocating heat. It felt like the inside of an over. As if hell had broken out and the fires of the abyss were scorching the floor, the walls, the ceiling, enveloping the entire room in a bubble of unbearable swelter.

And it was night. A night when the moon was a skinny, lifeless chunk of stone, hanging in the sky like scraps of cheese from the lunch of some cosmic giant. Stars glittered mockingly in the cloudless sky, as if they were selfishly happy that they were light years away from that sin-infested place called Earth.

And in a small apartment with grayish walls and exiguous, old furniture, a lanky fellow was turning feverishly in his hard bed, tormented by a never-ending nightmare, and muttering indistinguishable words. His arms flew around his skinny body like the twigs of a dry tree, buffeted by the autumn wind; his shoulder-length raven hair was coated in sweaty tufts. Suddenly, he cried out a name in the sweltering air and his eyes shot open. He stood in his bed, his breathing sharp and erratic. The man inhaled and exhaled again and again, trying to restore his internal balance, but it was a lost cause. No matter how long he stood there, struggling to catch up his breath, he could never make those nightmares go away. They always came back. Haunting him relentlessly like the retribution from some vengeful unknown deity.

The man stood in his bed for another five minutes, listening to the silence around him. There was no one here but him.

There has never really been anybody here but him.

He sighed in relief and lay in bed again. He stared vacantly at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering off to a place he himself didn't know. Honestly, what was he thinking?

Was he thinking about his life? His past? His future? Or maybe his thoughts were not even concerned with his fate? He never really understood what happened in those times when he just… lied in bed, staring at a point in the distance. It was like he was unplugging a siphon and all of his rational thought was pouring into the gutter. His mind was going blank, ceasing all processes like a computer shutting down to prevent intensive damage inflicted on the systems.

He had no idea why he was like that.

Five more minutes passed. Nnoitra covered himself with the sheet and closed his eyes, delving into a far more peaceful, nightmareless sleep.

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Nnoitra Jiruga was a man of many controversies, conflicts and contrasts. His appearance resembled the one of the stereotypical high-school delinquent with those small, ill-natured eyes and that stooped posture which towered above most people. His smile was the most intimidating part of his exterior: a sharp, jagged blade, especially the teeth on the upper jaw, which were slightly bucked. His hair had an unclean, greasy glitter which he could never get rid of, no matter how many times he washed his hair and what shampoos he used. Nnoitra's face gave most people an unpleasant feeling, girls were always apprehensive when he happened to be walking behind them at night through the park, afraid that he might be a stalker or a rapist. His figure was slim and skinny, his arms and hands were long and thin in a somewhat effeminate way and when complemented with his soft, pale, hairless skin made the wrong impression on people unfamiliar with his character. Nnoitra, however, was not a frail or defenseless man. His elegant hands packed a punch that had knocked out many teeth and broken many noses in the past. When he had to fight, he didn't bother following any rules or morals, there was no such thing as a fair an honorable fight to him. If the occasion called for it, he would resort to any dirty trick or underhanded method to emerge victorious. Nnoitra was a person who valued his life.

He was also a person who valued victory above anything. It was because of his wayward and ill disposition that he would always get in fights in the past, be it with the children on the playground (when he was in 3rd grade), his classmates (when he was in 12th grade) or even random people who were unfortunate enough to start an argument with him. His firm believes in his views and ideas of society, politics, religion, human life and existence as a whole had long degenerated into bellicose chauvinism. He didn't hide his detestation and repulsion towards anyone who didn't fit in the imaginary picture of the world he had constructed in his head. Nnoitra would stubbornly deny that reality might be any different than the one projected inside his warped mind and whenever his confidence in that dreamworld of his was shaken, he would attempt to force it on the real world through brute force.

It was out of the question to state that Nnoitra had many friends. In fact, he had many enemies. Most of them ordinary people he had to live with in the same apartment building: couples with children, retired folks, students tenanting in the room above his. It was amazing how inexhaustible his mordacity and rancor was. The people who got in a fight with him would quite often choose to give up instead of quarreling with this man whose mouth could fulminate profanities limitlessly and whose thick-headedness could withstand any logical argument. When they would turn their backs on him, they would listen to his mocking, complacent cackle, their irritation and hatred towards Nnoitra would turn into pity and vague sadness for this deranged individual. It was only because of the residents' admirable geniality, patience and tolerance that they hadn't called psychiatrists to take him away to a mental hospital or filed a lawsuit against him.

Nnoitra considered himself to be a loner. A total outcast from society, a man fated to never fit anywhere in the world of humans. However, his foreordination didn't strike him as something that came by the hand of some ireful god, rather than something he caused upon himself. Nnoitra was too pride to acknowledge himself as dependant on other people, nor did he need something as illusory and trivial as affection from other people. He always thought that he didn't need other people to exist…

But then why…

…Why?

…Why did that black hole, filled with agony and despair open up in him at times? Why did it suck him up in some kind of living nightmare where the world seemed so distorted and dark, what was that mocking laughter that roared all around him, screaming at him that everything could have been different, but he missed the chance to change things…

Nnoitra woke up. He stood up in his bed and stared in front of him. The morning sun was shining through the window next to his bed. He got off the bed, walked to the window and stared through it. The urban view was magnificent as always, seeing as Nnoitra lived on the 10th floor. Multi-storey buildings and skyscrapers projected towards the sky, there was a cone of smoke rising in the air not far away from here. Guess some building got on fire over there. Ah, what the hell. Those idiots should have been more careful.

Nnoitra went in the bathroom and took a shower. Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of the mirror, examining his face and hair. His skin looked cleaner now, but his hair still had a somewhat oily feeling when he ran his fingers through a lock falling on his face.

"Shit. What do I do with this hair?" He muttered to himself gloomily. Maybe he should have gotten a haircut, his hair length was probably the reason why his hair always seemed dirty. Besides, it's been over an year since he last altered his appearance noticeably.

He put on some underwear and a faded shirt and got some food out of the fridge. He made himself a sandwich with some cheese and ate it quickly before dressing up again, this time in green trousers and a shirt. He stood again in front of the mirror and started combing his hair. Nnoitra grinned contently.

Two months ago, he got kicked out of his last place of work (a nightclub where he worked as a bartender) because he got in a fight with a customer who happened to have had more alcohol than he should have. It wasn't out of the ordinary for fights to break out in that club, seeing as all sorts of people, some with questionable past and occupation, hung out there. Most of the time a brawl started because some drunk dude was flirting with some chick right under the nose of her boyfriend, who happened to be a 250-pound steroid freak. So when the big guy smacked the smaller guy so hard his front teeth flew out of his mouth and into someone's cocktail and the smaller guy kicked the big guy in the nutsack, the time came for the bouncers to do what they were paid for: break up the fight between those fuckers and throw them out. In those occasions Nnoitra would hide the glasses and bottles under the counter and then hide himself along with the glasswork. However, so it happened that this one particular person had spent four hours lounging on the counter, gulping down glass after glass of whiskey, and with every new glass he became louder, more talkative and with more drastic moodswings. After the guy finished his second bottle of whiskey, Nnoitra suggested that he ought to give it a rest. The customer, however, took the bartender's advice the wrong way and started showering him with curses. Nnoitra kept his mouth tightly shut till the moment that drunk fuck splashed his glass of whiskey all over Nnoitra's face. Then a lot of ugly things happened. To the customer. In the end, Nnoitra lost his job not only because the customer happened to be a friend of the manager, but also because Nnoitra had to pay ninty thousand yen for broken furniture. Hopefully, that bastard didn't sue him. Probably because he was too drunk to remember about that fight the other day.

And now Nnoitra was getting ready for an interview. He was applying for the post of a delivery man in a large computer company. He had to drive around town with a lorry and deliver hardware and spare computer parts to different shops. It wasn't what one would call prestigious profession, but hey; Nnoitra wasn't picky when it came to work. Plus, he's seen worse things in his days.

He put the comb away and took one last look in the mirror. He looked personable enough to be taken on. The most important thing right now was to answer the interviewer's questions satisfyingly and not to say anything stupid or inappropriate. The latter was the hardest part.

Nnoitra grinned confidently, and yet so maliciously, as if he was setting out on war against the world. His smile was as sharp and blinding as an unsheathed sword, prepared to slash down anyone who stood in his way.

He put on his shoes, took his keys and walked out the door.

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**From the Author:** Well, this is how Chapter One ends! I'm not quite sure what came over me to write a story about that character. It was like a blinding spark of inspiration. Guess I gotta take out the pressure from all that studying on something. ;) I'll try to update as soon as possible. I'll be thankful if you could give me some feedback on the story. See ya soon!


	2. Postponed Interview

Chapter Two: **Postponed Interview**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

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"Out of my fuckin way! I'm gonna miss the Goddamn bus!"

These two short sentences, roared out at the top of a madman's voice, who was undoubtedly very determined to reach the bus stop before his transport arrived, rolled down like thunder to the other corner of the street, alerting everyone for the imminent approach of Speedy Gonzales' enraged psychotic human (for form's sake) cousin: Nnoitra Jigura. Many people stopped in their way and turned around to behold this unique specimen of the human race. The smarter ones, most of them residents of the district and familiar with Nnoitra's violent resolution to have his way, pulled closer to the sides of the street, some of them even breaking in a run themselves, just to make way for this embodiment of natural disaster to pass through. And in no time, Nnoitra, the man himself, came shooting pass the terrified crowd, his hair flapping like a flag behind him and his clothes threatening to tear off from his skinny body.

One minute later, he skipped to the bus stop moments before the very bus arrived. Nnoitra got in and crashed in the first free seat his eyes caught sight of. He rested on it while trying to catch up his breath. He rubbed the sweat off his forehead and cursed mentally. Nnoitra did his best to look well for that interview and now there he was, soaking wet with sweat dripping from him like he had just finished digging a well on a July afternoon. He was gripping onto a green folder where his CV, high school and university diploma, health certificate and other personal files were located. Was there really any point in bringing the university diploma along when the thing he really needed was his driving license? He was going to drive a fuckin truck, not engineer new hardware! To think what his choice of professions would be after those five years wasted in university… Maybe if he actually put a little more effort in finding himself a job corresponding to his specialty, that pretty piece of paper in his folder wouldn't seem as useless as it was right now.

He opened a window to get some fresh air in, because he felt he was suffocating. The bus wasn't cramped as it would be most of the time, but the heat today was unbearable. Instead of oxygen, a cloud of carbon entered his lungs. His eyes turned red as he started coughing. Nnoitra felt as if someone had injected venom directly into his lungs. It took him five minutes to recuperate before flipping out the folder and browsing through the files, making another check if anything had slipped from the folder while he was sprinting like mad all the way to the bus stop. Thankfully, everything was here. He laid back on the seat once more and smirked.

It would be too much to say that he was excited. On the contrary, Nnoitra felt a little bored by the fact that he might actually get employed as a fuckin truck drive or whatever it was. The god-damn ad didn't give much detail about what he was supposed to drive and where exactly. The damn bastards might actually send him delivering parts to the other side of the fuckin country. Hell, he didn't care about it. Right now it seemed as trivial as going to the market to buy some food. The energy drink he gulped down last night still had its invigorating effect on him (and it was the reason why he couldn't sleep well) and right now he felt like Superman. He could be driving a tack or a fuckin plane for all he cared, because he'd still do it without breaking a sweat. Getting money was his top priority right now, how he got them didn't concern him, as long as whatever he was supposed to do wasn't illegal.

Sirens rang from the outside. Two ambulances shot pass the bus and disappeared at the end of the street. The bus was slowing down by the minute; probably there was a traffic jam somewhere up ahead. Suddenly, Nnoitra remembered that there was smoke coming out of some building not very far away from his home. A perturbing thought passed through Nnoitra's head that if the bus actually stopped moving due to firefighters cutting off the road to secure the area, he might miss his interview. Though that job meant nearly nothing to him, he wasn't the type of man who didn't keep his word. He stood up from his seat and moved to the doors, getting ready to get off the bus as soon as they reached the next bus stop. The vehicle was moving painfully slow and it seemed like an hour till the doors opened and Nnoitra pounced out on the street and ran as fast as he could. It felt like he was moving against a thick forest of people; the flow was turned in the opposite direction and it didn't take Nnoitra long to figure out that everyone was fleeing from something. As if to ascertain his speculations, he came to a police car parked in the middle of the road and four police officers redirecting the flow of cars to two smaller streets. When Nnoitra asked the cop what was going on, he was answered:

"The fire in the library has spread to an apartment building adjacent to it and the situation is getting out of control. There's no telling how long the firefighters will be occupied with it."

Nnoitra swore flamingly. He made a turn to the left and ran across the length of the street, pushing people out of his way and drawing the shortest route that would lead him to his destination. There was still a chance to make it there in time, as long as nothing distracted him...

Something swished deafeningly through the air and exploded in the fifth storey of the building above him. The entire building shook, the earth quaked like an earthquake was taking place and the windows of every building and car in a radius of several hundred feet shattered to pieces. People screamed in panic and fell on the ground when a large chunk from the wall and hundreds of broken bricks scattered like shrapnel all over the street.  
"Terrorist!" Someone yelled in fear.

Nnoitra ducked and covered his head when more bricks and broken glass rained from the gaping hole in the building. He ran as fast as he could, leaping left and right over piles of rubble and dodging the falling objects. He was running away from this nightmarish street and this ruined building which was threatening to fall apart any moment now. He had never ran like this before; his legs were driven by the fundamental instinct of survival and fuelled by testosterone, for he had perceived how easily he could die by a random falling rock.

"Somebody! Help us!"

This cry came from up above, which surprised Nnoitra, who was expecting the people around him to be calling for help, seeing as some of them were seriously hurt. He raised his head: from the edge of the demolished fifth floor, a man with short grayish-blond hair and sunken eyes was leaning above the hole and screaming at the top of his voice. Nnoitra stopped in his run and yelled at him:

"You fuckin moron, don't stand so close to the edge! It may crumble any moment now!"

"Please, help us! My niece is seriously hurt! I can't bring her down from here… I… I'm too weak…"

Nnoitra stood where he was, staring at the man with anxiety and irritation. Of all the fuckin people who happened to be around this street, he was the only one stupid enough to answer to the old man's pleas. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Not only that he was going to miss the bloody interview, but he was expected to endanger his life for the sake of some bastards who had never met before in his life! Well, he might try to act as if he hadn't heard him or pretend that he was injured himself; he could come up with all sorts of excuses not to embark on this idiotic suicidal trip. There was no telling if the whole building wasn't going to collapse the moment he set his foot inside; he didn't want to fight against insurmountable odds to save a couple of wretches who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, he didn't want to act as a hero! It was so fucked up. If he went in there and came back alive with them, he would be a fuckin hero, but if he died in there, he would be a god-damn moron.

However, Nnoitra couldn't bring himself to run away. Not only he would sacrifice more of the scarce amounts of dignity and self-respect he had left and look like a giant pussy, but the eyes of that horror-struck old man would haunt his nightmares along with the rest of the pitch-black monsters for the rest of his life. He swore under his nose once again, threw the folder on the ground and ran towards the entrance of the apartment building.

He kicked the door open and rushed up the stairs. He loped pass panicky people going down the stairs and they all stared at him in shock and bewilderment. When he came to the fourth storey, he saw huge cracks in the walls and the stairs, dust and broken plaster covered the platform between the fourth and fifth floor. Without thinking much about it, he walked over the dangerous area and, making to the fifth floor alive, banged with all his might on the locked door where the old man and his niece were. The door didn't last long under Nnoitra's vicious attacks and was soon flung open. He entered the destroyed apartment, went pass the devastated kitchen and ended up in whatever remained of the living room, where a green-haired woman in her mid twenties was lying unconscious on the floor, her face pallid from the shock, with her uncle hovering above her, gone completely mad in his helplessness. Parts of the roof had collapsed on her, crushing her right leg under its weight and pinning her to the ground. A pool of blood was spilling under it. Nnoitra bit his lower lip and struggled not to throw up. What the fuck did he get himself into!? He brushed that thought aside and concentrated on the current situation.

"Old man, help me get rid of that!" He ordered while pointing at the large piece if concrete trapping her. He strode around the block, looking for a comfortable place to grab on to. He found one, bended down and gripped tightly an edge while thinking over his next moves. That rock had obviously broken the girl's leg from the knee below, which meant that not only they had to remove that rock from her without causing her more unnecessary harm, but they also had to move her out of the building with heightened care. Moving down the stairs in her condition would take ten times longer, but with her being unconscious the time spent getting out of this place would increase yet again; and right now time was against them. Nnoitra and the woman's uncle pulled with all their strength to get the concrete off. When he saw the bloody pulp her leg was reduced to, the urge to puke out his breakfast returned, even stronger than before. Nnoitra swallowed painfully and groaned out:

"Help me carry her out!"

They raised her limp body and rested her on their shoulders carefully. Nnoitra knew that this wasn't the best way to get her out, bearing her broken leg in mind, but he was sure that if she was forced to sacrifice her leg to get out of here alive, she wouldn't hesitate to do so. The cracks in the walls seemed larger now, there was a rumbling sound coming from the sixth storey. Whatever it was, Nnoitra didn't like it one bit. They climbed down the stairway back to the entrance without anything happening (for Nnoitra's immense relief) and strode with the unconscious woman towards the end of the alley. They were the only ones moving across this street, trudging through fragments and broken brick as far away from that building as possible. When they made it out on the street, they saw police officers, the fire brigade and two ambulances coming their way.

"About fuckin time." Nnoitra grumbled angrily. Medics came out of the ambulance, bringing a litter out of it. They carefully placed the girl on the litter and rushed her inside the ambulance. Her uncle was left to worry about the fate of his child while Nnoitra was sitting on the pavement, staring nonchalantly at the turmoil going about. A policeman approached him and started interrogating him. Well, it was supposed to happen. Nnoitra stood up with reluctance and started giving information to the police officer: his name, his address, what exactly happened, what he did when it happened, how he helped the family out of their destroyed apartment and out of the building. The cop thanked Nnoitra and walked away, engaging himself with other, more important tasks.

Nnoitra sighed deeply, as if a heavy burden had come off his shoulders. This day sure turned out to be something he'd remember for the rest of his life. He saved two people, one of them seriously injured, from a collapsing building. As long as there was someone else besides himself whom he could tell that story to… Everything up till now seemed like a dream. It felt unrealistic, because he hardly pictured himself as some hero emerging triumphant from a burning building with a girl in his arms. And yet, something very similar to that happened just minutes ago. And how the hell did all of this happen? A rocket or some shit like that shot through the air and blew a hole in the wall. Who shot that missile? The cop refused to say anything about terrorists or anything like that. The bastards were probably keeping this information confidential to prevent panic from spreading. But what for? Some douchebag demolished a fuckin apartment and a lot of people got hurt badly. Nothing could revert the damage and physical and psychological scars from that attack. It was going to be on the news for the next three months. The more interesting question was: why did they do it here and now? Why was an ordinary apartment building of such importance when they could have fired at the city hall, a bank or some other institution?...

His thoughts were interrupted when the uncle shuffled towards his rescuer and said with a weak voice:

"Thank you, good sir! You have my eternal gratitude! If it weren't for you, my little Nel and I would have surely been buried alive in there!..."

Nnoitra waved his hand dismissingly, obviously not considering his act some sort of a heroic feat. "Don't mention it. Shouldn't you be going to the hospital where your girl is?"

The man's face turned a shade paler when another wave of desperation and helplessness overtook him. "I left all of our money in home, along with everything else… the hospital is two miles away from here… I don't have any money for taxi…"

Nnoitra scowled. Why? Why did it have to be him? Why did he allow himself to get stuck with this bullcrap when it was obvious that after one thing followed another and a third!? He couldn't make an excuse because he'd look like an idiot, especially to himself, considering the fact that he was still carrying his wallet in his pocket. Well, there was no point of worrying about the damn interview now: he was covered in dirt, sweat and blood and he would never make it in time now.

He sighed and answered:

"Alright, alright… I've got the money for it. Just hold on a second… forgot something…"

Nnoitra ran over to where he had dumped the folder with his documents and came back a minute later. The two men wandered across the length of the street, looking for an unoccupied cab. Five minutes later they found one, got inside and told the driver their destination. They took off seconds later and went out of sight when they made a right turn.

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**From the Author**: So much for this chapter. I screwed up the ending a bit, probably made a few typos here and there. Still have doubts if I shouldn't have elaborated on Nel's appearance. Review when done reading, feedback and comments are always welcome!


	3. Brothers

Chapter Three: **Brothers**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach. Period.

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To say it bluntly: Nnoitra hated people. He despised them. Every single one of those tiny little humans, each of them claiming to be something different and better than the rest of the lot, without realizing that they were all the same insignificant filth. They struggled all their life to clamber with tiny steps the society ladder, while trampling over their colleagues and backstabbing friends to attain something as trifling, ephemeral and earthbound as money and influence. And then what? They died. They FUCKIN died, and all their efforts they'd put over the decades would go to waste; their achievements would crumble and disappear, as if they have never existed. People were fuckin morons who never learned, they blindly obeyed the law, zealously pursued that ready-made standard social model of existence and detested anything that strayed from this pattern.

The man sitting next to him seemed to be the same type. No, not quite. He was the unrealized type, the kind of guy who was too incompetent, too stupid or downright unlucky to end up living in poverty. Nnoitra could judge that by the large bald spots mottling his dishelved, grey hair, the dark circles of fatigue and old age around his eyes, the network of wrinkles crossing across his forehead, those tired grayish-green eyes who stared with vague anxiousness and elderly senility. His clothes were old and worn out, his shoes were in a horrible condition. What Nnoitra could make out of the ruins of his apartment were old, worn out furniture and a-quarter-century-old kitchen appliances, most of them ill-kept. That old fart probably had nobody in his life but his niece, who was most likely the only working person from the two of them, and now he'd either die from starvation or fright till she was discharged from the hospital. The lowliest scum on Earth.

Then why. Why in Buddah's giant fat ass and Allah's hairy testicles did he bother to get that bitch and her senile uncle out of that crumbling building? Why did he waste his time and money with people whom he was probably never going to meet again in his life after all of this shit was over? He was also never going to see them again either if he'd left them to their fate back then. For sure! Then why!? What kind of devil possessed him to get out of his way to lend them an undeserved helping hand?! What kind of weak-minded subconscious feeling of guilt pushed him towards this… idiotic act of chivalry, this unnecessary interference in events that didn't concern him the slightest? He should have just walked away. He should have ignored that weak, reproachful whisper of his dignity and instinctive adherence towards humanity which he hated so much and thought with his head about what awaited him after embarking on this act. He was going to waste so much valuable time with these people, so much time he was going to put to better use by sitting in his room, contemplating the setting sun and brooding over the world and his own existence…

Yeah… certainly a better way to spend time…

The taxi stopped in front of the hospital, dropping them on the bustling street, where unfamiliar faces were pacing in every direction, completely indifferent to what was happening to Nnoitra and his companions. There was an empty ambulance parked in front of the entrance of the hospital with its doors wide open. The driver was still fussing around the vehicle, seemingly not doing anything of importance. Neliel's uncle walked over to the driver and asked him if they were the ones who had escorted his niece into the hospital. The man denied, stating that he'd never seen a green-haired woman with a broken leg today. Nnoitra could see that the old man's nerves were on the edge of breaking from worry, but he didn't care. He called over to him to follow him inside.

The hospital was busier than usual, with doctors and nurses dashing back and froth in every corridor, ushering patients with all sorts of ailments and injuries into different operating rooms, pushing handicapped people in wheelchairs, watching and talking with other patients moving through the hallways, or just pacing evenly while examining documents and medical records. It was chaos in every direction and Nnoitra had a hunch that the fire and the attack an hour ago had a lot to do with it. There was no telling how many other people got hurt badly during those disasters. Other people whom, thankfully, he couldn't take care of. He walked over to the reception with Neliel's uncle still following him, dumbfound and wordless in his anxiety, and asked the receptionist:

"A girl with green hair and a broken right leg were rushed in here a while ago. She got stuck in that building that was attacked."

The woman examined him for a few seconds carefully, probably thinking who the hell was this man with greasy hair and malicious eyes, when she answered: "Yes, there is a patient like that. Neliel Aizen, right?"

The old man nodded franticly.

"We rarely have patients with hair color like hers, so it was easy to remember her. She's in room 206, the doctors are treating her leg. As you can see, the situation here is quite serious, there are dozens of people with serious injuries and burns from the two accidents being ushered in, the entire medical staff is busy handling the situation, so I can't tell you exactly when you'll be able to see her."

Nnoitra and the uncle walked away and sat on the only unoccupied bench in total silence. A minute later, Neliel's uncle spat out:

"God send those bastards to hell!" His eyes were red and watery. "Curse them all for what they did to my Neliel!"

Nnoitra just stared at him. There was no point in saying anything. It was one of those somber moments when it was better to remain silent. There were no words that could ease his pain, that could set him at rest. It was natural for a uncle to be worried sick for her niece and to curse the agent of her misfortunes. Stuff like 'Don't worry, she'll be alright' were useless small talk. They could easily transform from well-meant encouragements to cruel lies, because death was a cruel mistress who could take away a person's life on a whim. Nnoitra made a correct choice by remaining silent. Plus, trying to console the man would have also been an act of hypocrisy, because, to tell the truth, Nnoitra didn't care much what happened to that girl. He started regretting what he did the moment he escorted them out of their collapsing apartment building. He just… couldn't put himself in their situation. He wasn't that type of understanding man who could cry for somebody else, who could experience a pain different than his own. It was egoism and callosity in their ultimate forms and Nnoitra knew that. It wasn't something he wished for. He was just made that way. Right now, he should be feeling a vague sensation of guilt and pain for these people, just like any normal person should. However, he didn't.

He just didn't. Simple as that.

A couple of minutes later a doctor came to ask them to leave the hospital, as it was not the right moment for visitors of any sort when there were so many injured people rushed in. Nnoitra took the man to a small café near the hospital, where the staff used to relax when they had free time. Today the place was nearly empty. He ordered two cappuccinos and took a seat at one of the small white round tables.

"Got free time to wait, old man?" Nnoitra asked evenly.

He nodded. "I'll wait as long as it takes. I'm terribly sorry for having you dragged in this dilemma, sir. I'll repay for your kindness and generosity as soon as this is over with, that's a promise!"

For a moment there, Nnoitra didn't know how to react. That guy thanked him. Expressed his gratitude towards him for wasting his time with something he might have easily passed by. Somehow, Nnoitra never considered seriously the thought that this man might be in his debt for saving his niece. Now, what should he say? He wasn't angry or irritated enough to nag at him about it. However, he also disliked the idea of acting like a noble hero of Good and Justice and acting as if saving damsels in distress was his bread and butter. So all Nnoitra did was snort and look away, as if putting an end to that discussion. The old man stared at him, confused at this strange reaction.

"I'm tired of calling you 'old man'." Nnoitra stated. "Why don't you introduce yourself already? Seems like I'll be hanging around you for some time."

Neliel's uncle blinked a few times till his brain processed the request. He answered in a faint voice:

"Shou Aizen. And my niece's name is Neliel Aizen."

An uncomfortable silence settled afterwards. 'Well, this discussion was obviously going nowhere the way it started' Nnoitra thought. Though Nnoitra was one of the people who'd say 'Silence is gold', even this silence was too heavy for him to bear. He rummaged through his head for something to talk about, but nothing appropriate came up to him. Thankfully, Shou saved him the trouble of picking up a topic to talk about when he said:

"To think how bad things can go, just when you least expect them. And to think that it was one of those rare times she visits me…"

"She doesn't live with you, eh?"

Shou shook his head. "No. Though I wish she did."

Nnoitra leaned on his seat more comfortably, while looking for some sort of answer. Unfortunately, everything he could think of sounded either too personal or too stupid. He gave up and gave this question a try:

"Busy working?"

"No. Her father won't let her see me."

Nnoitra let out a quiet humming sound. Shou's story sparkled a little interest in him.

"Not on good terms with your brother, eh?"

"Not at all. It's because we are total opposites that he keeps us away from each other. My younger brother, Sosuke Aizen, turned out to have a very successful life. He started from a simple accountant in 'Supernova' software technologies and worked his way all the way to the top. Or cheated and bribed, in many occasions. He's now the president of the company and earns more than 10 million a year."

The mentioning of the company name made Nnoitra's eyes widen. It was the same fuckin company! The one where he was going to apply for the job of a delivery guy! Good fuckin Lord, it was a golden opportunity he couldn't miss! That woman's father was going to fall on his knees and kiss his feet in gratitude for saving his daughter. And when he asked Nnoitra how could he ever repay himself, Nnoitra would know exactly what he'd ask for. Holy shit, he was going to become outrageously rich! His mouth was already watering. It would mean the end to that claustrophobically small apartment with its grey walls and scarce furniture. He was going to get a new, bigger apartment... No! A house! A big house in the countryside with a large pitbull in the front yard, a new S-class Mercedes, a huge plasma television, an enormous couch where he could sink his body and drift asleep…

He stared at Shou with an even stronger interest, laced with a greedy intention.

"This Aizen guy looks like the type of parent who'd buy expensive shit for his daughter but wouldn't spend quality time with her."

"Your supposition is a right one. My brother values his time far too much to waste it with something as insignificant as his one and only child. He claims to know everything about marketing and finances, but he doesn't know a single thing about his daughter. If he did and if he cared about it, my brother and I would have buried the hatched a long time ago and Neliel wouldn't have to sneak out of the house under the pretext that she is hanging out with her friends. It is horrifying how money and power can ravage a person's soul…"

A pang of a vague, strange feeling stirred Nnoitra's soul. Was that guilt? He completely ignored it seconds later as the golden mirage flashed before his eyes again.

"So why are ya two fighting anyway?" Nnoitra asked.  
"It's like I said: we are total opposites. Our radically different views on the world are the main reason for the dissension between us. I value nature and human life, he values money and influence. I am a religious Christian, he is atheist. I enjoy staring at the sunrise, he enjoys driving expensive cars and traveling all over the world. I've worked all my life with my own strengths and an honest heart and remained on the same position as the chief engineer in the factory where I used to work, while he swindled and bribed his way all the way to the top, along with the help of some string-pulling. I was discharged when the factory closed down, Aizen's company continued to prosper and is now one of the leading software producing corporations in a global scale. He offered me the job of a cleaner there, but I refused. Aizen did so not because of brotherly feelings towards me or because he took pity on my state, but to demonstrate his superiority to me. He was going to exploit and humiliate me to his heart's content. I chose to preserve the remnants of my dignity."

"That wasn't a job with prospects, but hell, if I could choose between that and poverty, I'd bend down and kiss his feet." Nnoitra commented.

"My pride got the best of me. I've changed several jobs since then, but over the last three years my health's been deteriorating, so I was forced to retire."

"Why take more than one job? Couldn't you find the same job somewhere else?"

"There hasn't been labor-market for engineers in the last few years. It turned out no one needed workers like me."

Nnoitra clicked his tongue. It was a gesture that could express (dis)agreement, sympathy, anger, indignation, anticipation or any other feeling depending on the situation. It was the perfect solution for those times when he couldn't think of a better response.

"With that financial crisis going amok everywhere, I'm not surprised." Nnoitra murmured.

Shou continued his story without paying much heed to Nnoitra's observation. "Back then, when the bonds between the two of us weren't completely broken, I would visit Neliel every week. She was just a young lass who needed her father's care and love, but didn't get any of it. I had little money, I rarely brought her any presents, but Neliel didn't request anything from me which I already didn't have. She just wanted someone who would listen to what she really wants to say, someone she could confide in. Sosuke thought that I was trying to steal his daughter away from her as a payback for being more successful than I was and he forbid us from seeing each other. A scandal like none other kicked up that night, blowing a hole in the relationships between father and daughter which would never be filled up. Since then, there has always been this tension and silent disagreement between the two of them. Neliel started visiting me secretly. She drew small sums of money from her father's bank account under the excuse that she buys herself new stuff with them. He didn't mind, as long as she spent the money for herself. If he knew that she gave the money to me, he would have never consented to it. I was ashamed that my niece was supporting me behind her father's back, but the situation I was in was too grim for me to refuse."

The waitress brought their beverages and left in a hurry.

"Your brother is seriously fucked up." Nnoitra stated bluntly and picked up his cup. "Doing all that shit just to bring you low. Doesn't his wife has a say in this squabble?"

"His wife is dead." Shou answered laconically.

Nnoitra stood petrified in a position with his hand bringing the cup up to his lips. A second later he broke the silence:

"That's… bad."

He took a sip from his drink. Neliel's uncle added in the same brief manner:

"He killed her."

Nnoitra was prudent enough to turn his head before spitting the cappuccino all over the ground. He bent in two while coughing hard. When his lungs were finally at ease and his eyesight no longer blurry, he gabbled out:

"What the fuck are you saying!?"

"Exactly what I mean. He killed his wife. She was found in the park one night, lying on the ground with her throat slit open. They couldn't find anything; the murder was carried out flawlessly, leaving no clues or traces. Sosuke was one of the main suspects, but he had a steel alibi and he had people who vouched for it. No one could prove that he did it and the case was closed. But I don't need anybody to **prove** me that my brother did it. I just know it. It was obvious. Sosuke and Retsu have been fighting ever since she gave birth to Neliel. It wasn't rare for their arguments to escalate to fierce brawls, when the odds were against him he tended to impose his will onto her through brute force. This outcome was bound to happen sooner or later. The news about her death were aired on the news when Neliel was five years old. Sosuke didn't shed a tear at his wife's funeral."

Nnoitra was wiping some cappuccino from his mouth when he said:

"Making assumptions like that is a bit biased, taking in mind the fact that you and your brother don't get along."

"That is why I couldn't act as a witness against him. The only thing I had was my opinion about him. Nothing else. You can't throw a person in prison because of what he **is**. You need to have solid evidence that he **did** something. However, if you've only lived in our family as long as I have… if you ever got the chance to know Sosuke the way I do, you'd see what I mean. You'd see the sides of him that the world doesn't see. You'll comprehend what he is capable of."

Nnoitra was silent for a few minutes, taking his time to sip from his cup before the cappuccino got cold. It was an uncomfortable silence once again. What the hell was he supposed to say after hearing something like this? And how the hell was he supposed to react? A man he knew from less than an hour was confiding him in his most private thoughts and his family life. How was it possible for Shou to drop his guard so easily around Nnoitra? Just because he happened to be the one to risk his own skin to get them out of the building didn't necessarily render him a saint. He wasn't compassionate or selfless by nature. It was just a rare spur of altruism which got the best of him. Nnoitra regretted again for getting involved with this man, because he was leaving him with a very, very false impression of himself.

They sat there for God-knows how long, killing time with random chit-chat about anything that crossed their minds. Tomorrow Nnoitra wouldn't be able to recollect most of the things they were talking about. Because he passionately prayed that he'd never have to meet these people again in his life. At some point, they stood up and went to the hospital to check how Neliel was doing. The bustle through the corridors had died out significantly, there was no longer that atmosphere of tension and lives hanging by the thread. For his own surprise, the receptionist immediately recognized Nnoitra and Neliel's uncle.

"You may go see her now. Her room is on the second floor, in the bottom of the corridor."

They took the stairs to the second floor, bypassing nurses and doctors who shot glances at them. They immediately orientated themselves in their surroundings and found room 206. A middle-aged man was just walking out of the room and greeted them.

"We treated the wound and set her leg in plaster. A broken knee and multiple bruises on the leg, as well as some other minor injuries all over the body. She is conscious right now, but don't take too much time to see her. She needs rest."

The door opened with a gentle creak as Shou peeked inside the room with the tentativeness of a parent who is cautious not to wake up a sleeping child. He completely entered it moments later, followed closely by Nnoitra.

It was an average hospital room with several beds lined against the sterile-white walls. Neliel was lying in her bed, dressed in the clean, white apparel presented to the patients who would be staying in the hospital for some time. Her face bore a stubborn expression, as if she was trying to deny the fact that she had been hospitalized and left immobilized on this bed. Her uncle hobbled to her bed and stroked her face.

"Neliel, my little Neliel! You're alright!" He wailed in relief. Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks. "It's all my fault!"

The green-haired woman frowned slightly and said in a gentle voice: "You should stop blaming yourself for everything that happens to me, uncle. There are things that you just can't predict or prevent."

"No! I had this feeling that something bad was going to happen ever since the day started! I should have called you and postponed our meeting for some other day! But I was too selfish; I wanted to see you so badly I completely disregarded that ominous feeling!" He wept even harder while pressing her niece's head to his chest. The tragic atmosphere was ruined by the awkward expression on Neliel's face, which made this whole scene look unnatural and slightly humorous. Nnoitra was tenaciously staring through the curtained window, just to prevent himself from chuckling.

"Cut it out already!" Neliel exclaimed. "I told you to stop worrying! The doctor said that the only serious injury is my broken knee; it'll take three months or so to completely heal."

"Please, Nel-chan, you know you mean the world to me! It's natural for your old uncle to be worried sick about you." He complained and stroked her cheek lovingly. She smiled cheerfully like a little girl.

And at long last, she noticed his presence. She turned to face him with a puzzled look. Nnoitra stared back sheepishly. Neliel glanced at her uncle in an unspoken question. Shou Aizen smiled in a broad grin of reverence and rapture and spoke:

"That man over there, Neliel, is the one who saved your life."

Nnoitra suddenly felt painfully uncomfortable in his own skin. A blush was crawling up his face and his intestines were wriggling like snakes. He was overcome by the sudden urge to dash towards his apartment, hide under the bed sheets, fall asleep and woke up with absolutely no memory of this ever happening. Shou had picked up the most lofty and venerable way to introduce him to her. He didn't want her _first impression_ of him to be like he was some kind of selfless hero or a knight in shiny armor, because Nnoitra was rustier than a World War I aircraft engine. He also didn't have the physique or face of a hero: he was tall and skinny, had a small with a pointy chin and his lips curved in an unsightly smile, revealing a row of bucked teeth kept in a questionable condition. If a competition for the most heroic face was ever held and Nnoitra tried to participate in it, he would be kicked out the moment the audition set their eyes on him and be directed towards the nearest Most Villainous Countenance competition in town. His hair was in an even more woeful condition from the whole experience in Shou's apartment. All he needed was a ragged shirt and a straw hat and he'd easily pass as a scarecrow.

Neliel's face lost its previous expression. Perhaps she was puzzled by the concept that _someone_ had saved her life and still needed time to put it in the category of things that could happen to her in real life. Because she knew perfectly that _nobody_ would risk his skin for her. Because things like that happened only in movies. Her distant gaze that seemed to go right through him was a fair-spoken reflection of the mental processes that went through her head right now.

"That man rushed up the corridor, completely ignoring any fear of getting crushed by rubble or bricks, kicked the door open and barged in the room, not showing the slightest of concern for himself and completely unabashed to the fact that he may not leave alive! He helped me remove the concrete that was pinning you down and carried you all by himself outside!"

"Okay, Shou-san, that isn't completely accurate!" Nnoitra exclaimed in an injured air. "You and I brought her outside and I would have never have done it if you hadn't supported her under the other arm. Don't give all the credit to me!"

"You did far better than I would have ever acted in this situation, child." Shou replied with a wide grin. "I've never seen someone as collected as you!"

"Bullshit! I nearly crapped my pants when I saw all that blood!" Nnoitra turned obstinate and blushed hard. "Stop portraying me like some fuckin superman, cuz' I'm not like that, at all."

"It doesn't matter what you are, rather than what you did." Neliel's uncle stated wisely. "Your quick thinking and confident actions were what saved our lives. Many people would have panicked in that situation. Even more would have turned their backs on us and shamefully ran away."

_'I wish I did the same'_, a bitter thought crossed Nnoitra's mind. It would have saved him this embarrassment.

"Now that I think about it, you never introduced yourself." Shou remembered.

Oh. That. Maybe because it was unnecessary. After all, they'd never meet again. Nevertheless, he answered:

"Nnoitra Jiruga. But just call me Nnoitra. No need for formalities."

No, he wasn't acting as if nothing happened. He told everyone to address him as casually as the could. He wasn't an etiquette man. The problem in this situation was that there was no way he could act impassive about this 'feat' of his without looking like some stereotypical self-righteous good guy who _secretly knew_ how great he was, but was just playing all humble about it. But in truth, this whole business really meant nothing to him: he didn't feel proud about it, he didn't want to get praised about it. The only thing that sparkled his interest were the financial benefits he might favor from, but even that couldn't compensate for all the unwanted attention he received. For fuck's sake, all he wanted was to be left alone!  
Neliel's gaze finally returned to the boundaries of reality, to this hospital room, and settled on Nnoitra.

"Thank you, Nnoitra-san." She said in a sonorous, happy voice.

Nnoitra's expression was the facial equivalent of constipation. It was hardened and racking.

"You have my eternal gratitude for rescuing me… I am indebted to you for what you did. I've… I've never imagined that something like this might happen to me. It still feels like a bad dream from which I've just awakened."

'_I haven't woken up yet, though'_ Nnoitra thought.

"Nnoitra-san, it may take me a lifetime to repay you such an enormous debt, but I promise you that I'll return this favor!"

Nnoitra sighed in irritation and scowled. "You're taking this way too seriously. Also, I don't recall asking you to give me anything in return." He wasn't impudent enough to ask them directly for a reward. However, it would have been really nice if someone proffered the possibility of tossing him some money. It was a complicated, delicate situation, where he would have to pirouette gracefully and gently around the whole 'Payback' affair till those people got the hint that financial subsidy would suffice the most. Words, no matter how earnest and passionate they were, always bore more weight when presented with a small gift of appreciation, isn't that right?

"No, no! It's unthinkable to leave you empty-handed after you risked your life for us, two total strangers." Neliel refused after shifting in her sheets. "Please, Nnoitra-san, tell us what you'd like and I'll do anything in my power to make it possible!"

Nnoitra mentally rolled his eyes. _'Since when did this girl become a genie? Hmm, let's see… a pack of beer would be nice. A sack of money would be even nicer. By the way, your breasts look really big and soft, can you take those clothes off so I can ascertain it? You won't have to do a thing: I'll just pin you to the bed, stick my dick between your boobs and tit fuck till I cum all over your pretty face!'_

What Nnoitra did say was: "If you insist so much on it, you can start off by getting me something to drink. Some Pepsi, maybe."

"Pepsi, you say?" Shou repeated.

"There's a vending machine down the corridor. I saw it when we were coming this way."

"Right! I'm on it! I'll get you something to drink, too, Neliel, you shouldn't get dehydrated at a time like this."

"Thank you, uncle." Neliel replied beamingly. When Shou left the room, Nnoitra slumped on one of the chairs and rested his head on the wall, exhaling an exhausted sigh.

His head hung loosely and his eyes closed.

"Nnoitra-san, are you alright?" Neliel asked.  
"I told you not to call me Nnoitra-san. Nnoitra is just fine!" He grumbled. He ran his fingers through his dirty hair and murmured: "I hate it when people act all polite towards me. It's unnatural."

Neliel blinked a few times, probably because she couldn't quite understand why demonstrating good manners towards strangers was unnatural, but she did not in agreement: "Sorry, Nnoitra, I'll have it in mind from now on."

"So… how are you?" This question levered out of his mouth after a short silence. Neliel's face darkened noticeably, it no longer radiated the same liveliness and girlish giddiness when her relative was in the room. She seemed a lot more serious and wistful now.  
"Well, my leg still hurts a little, even when I'm not moving it. Guess I got it messed up pretty badly." Neliel replied pensively.

"You have no idea. It looked like it was ran flat by a bulldozer. No wonder it still hurts." The man answered without a hint of consideration. Neliel shuddered at the imaginary picture of her ruined bones.

"The doctors said that I'll be staying here a few weeks till my leg gets better. After that I'll be spending the next three months walking with crutches." The woman went on. Her voice was not as grievous as was irritated, like someone who'd cancelled his holiday due to urgent office work. "And here I was yesterday, driving home from Pizza Hut."  
"You work there?" Nnoitra checked.

"Yes. I'm the chef."

"Do you happen to know a guy by the name of Grimmjow?"

"Of course, he's the manager."

"New manager!?" Nnoitra exclaimed, wide-eyed. "He was a fuckin waiter three years ago!"

"Don't tell me you used to work there." Neliel chuckled.

"Yeah. It wasn't for long, though." Nnoitra snorted. "I got fired less than a year later because I got in a fight with him. The stuck-up bastard was asking for it, he just didn't know his place."

"He was annoying you to such an extent that you had to settle your dispute with brute force?" Neliel asked in surprise.

"Let's say that we just didn't bond at all. We were like a cat and a dog all the time."

"To tell the truth, he can be really obnoxious and haughty at times, but so far no one's gone out of his way to punch that fact in his face."

"Because he's the goddamn manager, right?" Nnoitra checked with a leer.

"That plays a big part, too." She laughed light-heartedly.

Nnoitra was still exploring his social surroundings and from what he deduced, there was nothing that was upsetting or annoying so far, which was a noteworthy occasion, considering Nnoitra's chronic inability to deal with people. Neliel seemed like a decent person, someone whom can be relied on. And from what her uncle had shared with him, she was a self-opinionated one, as well. It would be risky to abuse her benevolent will to repay herself by exploiting her excessively. The idea of asking money from her now seemed… idiotic, lowly and hypocritical towards his own morals. Why the fuck did he even consider the option of getting _paid_ for saving her? It wasn't like he was in dire need for money, he could still get by with the savings he had.

"You know, you don't have to force yourself to repay me anythin'." Nnoitra muttered at some point.

Neliel smiled enigmatically, as if being entertained at a joke only she knew. "You don't like dealing with other people, do you, Nnoitra?"

He snorted and looked away. "I'm not trying to hide it, you can see that."

"Maybe you are embarrassed of having someone else indebted to you?" She tried.

"I don't want you to give me anythin', because I know how it feels to be in someone else's debt." Nnoitra relied sorely and leaned his head on his hands. "You feel a kind of guilt about it, you can't rest till you've settled your business…"

"That depends on the situation and one's personal perceptions of the notion." Neliel continued. "You consider indebtedness as something that restrains a man's free will and actions, an obligation that tolerates no deferment, a deal of some sorts that benefits you little to nothing. I consider it a natural response that evens out the giving-receiving process. In order to receive, you have to give something and vice versa, that is one of the fundamental natural orders, don't you agree, Nnoitra?"

'_Aren't you a little old to watch Fullmetal Alchemist?'_ Nnoitra thought tartly. He sighed and admitted: "Yeah, you can say that."

"Every single aspect of life functions this way. Economy is based solely on this principle: the stocks exchange from one person to another. The possession of two different items by two different sides is like the balancing of scales: neither scale must weigh more, or else the balance will be lost. The October revolution in Russia is a perfect example of the consequences from not upholding this rule: it broke out because the material wealth was not distributed equally among the entire population: the aristocrats and royalty held all the money and power, while the working class lived in poverty."

'_At what point did this conversation take an economic-historical turn?'_ Nnoitra asked himself, feeling himself drowning in desperation like someone who was trying to count every single snowflake in a raging blizzard. Maybe it was high time he interrupted her. Nothing personal.

"So to put it in a nutshell: you've got nothing against it."

"Absolutely. I feel happy by expressing my gratitude towards someone who has done me such a good deed."

"Y'know, I'm pretty sure you'll be regretting this later." He started in a high voice. "I don't make a good company and I'm definitely not the best guy to hang out with. I'm not a loner for no apparent reason. People who consort with me find out that I'm usually a very unpleasant, cheeky, ill-tempered guy."

"Not everyone is a Mother Teresa, Nnoitra." Neliel answered seriously. "We all have flaws and bad sides. This, however, can't stop us from making the best of our good sides."

"You're saying this because that's what you're supposed to say in a situation like this one: encourage me that my personality is not that abominable. However, you don't know me." He stood up and strolled towards her. "You'll make a terrible mistake to judge what I am just by a single action, no matter how generous or selfless it is. To say the truth, I don't know why I rushed in to save you. No, no, don't take it the wrong way. I'm not saying that I would have _necessarily_ felt better if you had died back then. I just can't help myself sometimes. No matter how much I hate people, there are times when my humane part takes over and does… unthinkable stupidities to help others. Seldom times. If your uncle hadn't screamed for help from that gaping hole in his apartment, I wouldn't have even _considered thinking_ if there was someone up there, hurt, in need of help. I would have just ran out of that street, taken cover somewhere till everything was brought under control and then I would have ran as fast as my legs could hold towards that goddamn office of Supernova where I was supposed to have an interview for a job, but I was probably going to get rejected anyway, seeing as the people there don't comprehend what 'delay' means. Neliel, I'm not your stereotypical shy, introverted lone wolf who puts up a cold façade and dark sunglasses, so that the world won't see his tears or yearning for companionship or love. I don't cry." He stopped in front of her and leaned forward. "I am an outrageous, hot-headed, intolerant misanthrope, a fanatical bigot, a chauvinist. I don't kill people for having a different opinion than mine because I don't have the guts or the authority to do it. I can also be an annoying free-loader and an ungrateful bastard. The people whom I can call, though as a strong overstatement, friends, will best describe me as a 'psychotic good-for-nothing son of a bitch'. My negative qualities are vastly outnumbering my positive ones. I realize with a sober mind what kind of sick fuck I am and, to be honest, I don't give a shit about it." Nnoitra's face was mere inches away from hers. "Do you understand who you are dealing with, Neliel? Do you understand in what kind of mess you might be getting into?"

Heavy silence settled afterwards. The ticking of the clock was the only sound that marked the passing of time.

Neliel's face was rock solid, motionless as if chiseled out of the stones of a million-year-old mountain. Nnoitra was surprised that he didn't hear a 'crack' when her lips curved into a smile.

"I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Nnoitra." She said affably.

His mouth hung loose. What the— What the fuck was wrong with this woman!? Was she daft!? And what the – what the fuck – is up with this reaction!!? Anyone else would have been sick to his stomach from him, but she…!? How the fuck was it possible to act so seriously and maturely at one time and a second later turn so childishly naive and innocent!? **HOW**?! He couldn't get it!

The door opened with a loud bang and a man's voice shook the room:

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing to my Neliel!?"

Nnoitra turned around in horror to behold the infuriated speaker. A blood-shivering thought was already crawling through his mind while his head traveled from pointing at one direction to another.

A tall man in his mid-forties was standing in the doorway, clad in an expensive white shirt, deep-blue trousers and a red necktie. They were obviously part of a business suit, but the upper part was discarded somewhere along the way. The man could be identified as one in hurry, judging by the sweat trickling down his forehead and the ruffles on his clothes. His intelligent, ebony eyes were currently staring at Nnoitra in an unfeigned anger.

Expensive clothes and a possessive attiude. Yep. That was her father.

Nnoitra recoiled from the girl as if there was electricity running through her.

"What!? No… me, I didn't… I was… I, she, she… Me and her… She was just…"

"Hello, dad." Neliel spoke. Her expression underwent a complete transformation from a cheerful and playful mood to a detached, cold temper. Nnoitra could tell by a simple look that she wasn't pleased to see her father here.

"Neliel, who is this man?" Sosuke Aizen insisted for an answer.

"He is the man who saved me and brought me here." She answered briefly.

Nnoitra's face blushed scarlet. Once again he regretted ever getting involved with her as her father peered in surprise and great disbelief at him.

"He **saved** you?" He asked dubiously. "**He** saved you?"

"Yes, dad. My leg was trapped under a block of concrete and he single-handedly removed it from me, then he carried me all the way to here." Neliel answered in an even, blasé tone.

"Hey, wait a—" Nnoitra protested at this blatant embellishment of the truth, but he was cut off when Sosuke lunged towards him. Nnoitra found out too late that he was trapped in this fierce man's iron embrace. Oh, shit. That wasn't at all what he had in mind when he thought 'an overjoyed reaction'. He was going to die by the arms of this madman for a deed of generosity he should have never done…

"Thank you, my friend! Thank you!" Sosuke exclaimed in a shaky voice. He seemed to be deeply moved. Nnoitra realized a second later that this hug wasn't all that intimidating to begin with. He dared look down at the man's face. A mug of relief and thankfulness was splattered all over it. "When I heard that my daughter had gone through an accident, I rushed as fast as I could here. I never imagined that there would be someone as selfless and compassionate as you out there, someone like you who'd even be there in the nick of time when my daughter's life was at peril!"

Were all Aizens this sentimental!? Why would someone, who is supposedly known among his relatives for his selfishness and standoffishness, get so… so… emotional and fatherly over his disobedient daughter? Maybe an accident like this one was required for him to actually realize how much she meant to him… Yeah, stuff like these needed to happen from time to time. It was for the best, Nnoitra guessed. Pulls the family together, renews the binds or something like that.

Nnoitra glanced at Neliel. She seemed to be in her own little hell right now, though it was radically different from Nnoitra's. All the liveliness had been sucked out of her the moment her father trod in this room. In the bed right now lay a completely different woman. It seemed that the joy from this reunion was one-sided. Nnoitra could only imagine what kind of oppression she was forced to deal with in her home when this stiffness and hostility coming from her was so easily triggered off as a radiating aura the moment her parent came near her.

Sosuke released him and backed away, examining him from head to toes. "My friend, I have so many questions to ask, both you and my daughter. But first, I would like to express my gratitude towards you. There is no man who has done the Aizens a favor this big and was left unrewarded."

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a leather wallet. Nnoitra felt his eyes widening noticeably, expecting Aizen to pull out a wad of $1000 bills or a gold bar.

Nnoitra could only wonder and dream what unspeakable treasures resided in Sosuke's wallet, for Neliel's father froze motionless when the door swung open and an elderly man trod in.

"Sorry for taking so long, it's just that I met a friend on the way there and we had a small chat." Shou's voice sounded from the door. "I've brought you some—"

He was cut off by the sudden realization of the presence of a certain person in the room. His brother's.

The temperature decreased noticeably. It was a frightening ambiance, much like the supernatural phenomena occurring at times in haunted houses when a specter manifested itself in a room. The current atmosphere, however, was far more foreboding and blood-chilling than anything a ghost could produce.

"What are you doing here?" Sosuke Aizen asked in a freezing-cold voice. "Didn't I tell you to keep your distance from me and my family?"

Shou trembled weakly.

"Neliel, Neliel… She is…"

"I asked you a question!" Sosuke barked out.

The two cans of Pepsi fell from Shou's weakening grip and clanged on the floor.

"N-Neliel's leg is broken… I had to take her here…"

"I have already been informed about Neliel's condition, brother. What I cannot comprehend is why you disobeyed my orders and got yourself involved with my daughter?"

Nnoitra's impression of Sosuke changed in less than a second. The first thing that came to his mind was to ask what kind of grudge, no matter how deep it was, would have the power to prevent an uncle doing whatever he can to secure the life of his beloved niece. Sosuke's reasoning was trespassing the boundaries of rational thinking and completely disregarded parental instincts and morals of putting the survival of the child, the offspring as top priority. When someone from the family was endangered, personal dissensions were set aside, at least temporarily, and the efforts of the entire family were combined in order to help the one in need. Sosuke should have been far too worried about his daughter to even bother spending energy to get in a wrangle with his brother. And yet, here he was, stating that 'he knew everything he needed to know' and starting a fight with Shou in a hospital in front of Neliel's eyes and Nnoitra's.

"Sosuke, what do you expect me to do? Stand aside and watch Neliel suffer?! She's my niece, for God's sake!"

"She _was_ your niece! I told you a million times to stay away from her! You are a bad influence to her."

"Dad, cut it out!" Neliel yelled.

"Sosuke, how can—"

"I will not have my daughter associate with a social reject and a failure such as you. You are incompetent, unreliable and incapable of achieving anything, Shou, you are a danger to everyone, including yourself." Her father grumbled threateningly.

Tears were welling up in the old man's eyes. "S-Sosuke, please, please!... It's all my fault this happened!"

His brother lunged towards the man and gripped him by the collar.

"What have you done!?" He roared.

"Dad, stop it!" Neliel screamed.

Nnoitra was desperately looking for a safe spot to cower in till the battle was over. It seemed like Sosuke Aizen was going to resort to violence any moment now.

"What were you doing together with my daughter!?"

"We… we were at my home, I…"

"What was my daughter doing at your filthy place!?" Aizen roared like a beast, his face turning redder by the second. "Why was my daughter in your home when I forbid both of you from meeting ever again!?"

"It's all my fault, Sosuke, it's all my fault!" Shou cried bitterly. "I wanted to meet her so badly I dared call her, despite what you told me! It's been so long, so very long… I wanted to lay my eyes on her for just a few minutes, then I was going to let her be on her way. I have never meant any harm! All I wanted to do was see my niece…"

"How dare you—" Neliel's father began, but his daughter's firm voice cut him off:

"No, dad. I'm to be blamed for everything. I suggested the idea that uncle an I should meet. I did all of this entirely of my own accord."

Sosuke released his hapless brother and strode towards Neliel.

"You ugrateful girl!" He yelled. "How dare you defy my orders!? After all the efforts I put in raising you correctly, after satisfying your every single whim, you give me your disobedience in return!? Do you not realize that I am doing all of this for your own well-being and nothing else!?"

So this was Sosuke Aizen. Underneath the petty diplomacy and the sophisticated façade of an overachieving president of a computer company lied the worst example of human atrocity imaginable. He was a primitive and backward representative of that old, nearly-extinct generation of possessive, despotic parents, who felt it was their duty to manipulate every aspect of their child's life. His idea of ensuring his child's 'well-being' was limited to placing her in a small, ready-made social frame and forcing her to follow strictly and unquestioningly its rules. A total asshole, Nnoitra thought. He did look like someone who'd lick his superiors' asses and trample those inferior to him. Nnoitra felt sick just by listening to his insane screams and threats. And to think that he was going to take money from this piece of shit…

"It's your own fault for getting that leg broken! That's what you get for disobeying me! I could care less for your condition if you're going to stray from my rule and be the stubborn thickhead you've always been! I'll have a long talk with you once you get home, girl!" Sosuke yelled one last time before barging out of the room and slamming the door with a thunderous bang behind him. Everyone was left petrified in the pose Neliel's dad had left them. Silence was weighing like a ton of lead on top of them.

Nnoitra snorted. He took one gloomy look at Neliel and her uncle and muttered:  
"I've stayed here for too long. I gotta go."

"Nnoitra, wait—" Neliel shouted and stretched a hand, but Nnoitra had already walked out of the room. Shou Aizen slumped in the chair and wept bitterly.

Nnoitra leaned on the wall, feeling like the whole world was swaying under his feet. He really was sick. His head ached as if a herd of cows had danced on top of it. The man pushed himself off the wall and plodded through the corridor, down the stairway and out of the hospital. He didn't remember how he got another taxi to drive him home, he didn't remember when he took his clothes off, took a shower and collapsed in his bed. The only thing he remembered was that he prayed and prayed, half-asleep, that all of this had been one of those horrible nightmares that haunted him every night, that none of this had ever happened, that the agitated, grey-haired old man, the insane oppressive brown-haired father and the green-haired woman with her broken leg, soft-spoken voice and inconstant mood were all an illusion. An illusion that had wrung him out his grey, empty, meaningless world, though temporarily, and made him experience a vague feeling he had forgotten a long, long time ago.

The joy of living.

* * *

**From the Author:** That's all for this chapter. Sorry that it took so long, but I was going one step at a time with it. Review when done reading, please!


	4. Haunting

**Chapter Four:** Haunting

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach. Obviously.

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Nnoitra woke up with a splitting headache, threatening to incinerate his brain cells to the last one and burn a hole in his cranium. It felt as if he had chunk down a whole bottle of whiskey on an empty stomach and now his organism was punishing him severely for this ill-judged whim. A sizzling hot metal rod jabbed in his skull now seemed like a far more pleasant option, compared to the pain he was experiencing.

He lay in bed, his eyes shut tight, hopelessly trying to quell the raging storm inside his head. He could sense the morning sunlight illuminating the room through its small window; if his bed wasn't positioned away from the window, the sunlight would have surely burned a painful red image in his eye sockets. Nnoitra turned restlessly, trying to fall asleep again, but the agonizing pulsation in his brain was preventing him from doing so. He groaned angrily and stood up abruptly in his bed, trying to shake the pain away. It just made it worse.

Nnoitra placed a hand on his forehead, then slid it down to cover his eyes. He sighed gloomily. He kicked the bed sheets away and settled his feet on the ground. When he stood up, the entire world swayed and span dangerously underneath him. Nnoitra reeled in his bed before he could fall prostrate on the bare floor. The headache seemed to be getting worse by the second. He slapped his forehead angrily, as if trying to beat the pain out of his head. He gritted his teeth furiously at his helplessness.

It was one of those times again when he felt that invisible, intangible force taking control over his world, twisting it and distorting it into abominable shapes, just to make his life worse than it already was. It was his own consciousness that was causing this; his guilty, weak, frail human consciousness, injured for God-knows-what reason and triggering off this nightmarish chain of pain that made living unbearable. Nnoitra had the morbid thought that he was being punished for something. But what could it possibly have been, he didn't know. Did God suddenly get pissed off because he didn't go to that shitty interview? Or maybe he was dealing out judgment because he couldn't wash the nasty glitter in his hair off? Fuckin goddamn shit, whatever it was, he fuckin hated it!

He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes again. The world slowed down to its regular pace and a few minutes later everything was back to normal. His head was still pounding, as if his heart and brain had switched places, but at least it didn't feel like he was sitting in a spinning chair. He dared part his eyelids and explore his surroundings and he was granted with the relatively comforting sight of his room in all of its blandness and greyness. Nnoitra stood up carefully, his eyes fixed in the ground, cautious not to let it slip away under his feet again, and trod towards the bathroom.

He pushed the door open with his elbow and got inside. He turned the water on and let it run for a few seconds, waiting for it to get as cold as possible, then he cupped his hands and splashed some on his face. His inner world surfaced into a more bearable level of reality. The pain in his head was starting to fade away bit by bit. Nnoitra stared at the sink with half-open eyes as the water was dripping from his wet locks. The water was running down the drain, disappearing without a trace in the siphon, carrying several of his long hairs with it towards their sewerage doom.

"Just like my life." Nnoitra muttered inaudibly. He splashed some more water on his face, ran his wet fingers through his oily hair and tossed it back. For him, it was a satisfactory substitute for a shower. If anyone had a problem with it, they could talk to his fist about it. He walked out of the bathroom with his wet hair shrouding his face like the Grim Reaper himself and groped around the top shelf of the wardrobe next to the bathroom door for a clean towel. His long, spider-like fingers gripped viciously around the first one that came under their touch: a grayish-purple towel with a daisy theme so ragged and with colors so faded out that one might have taken it for something rummaged out of the dumpster. Nnoitra had the habit to make use of absolutely anything till it disintegrated in its hands. And that towel still had a long way to go. Nnoitra put it down to his inborn practical approach towards anything in life and desire to exploit it to its fullest and off-handedly rejected the possible cause being his stinginess.

Nnoitra wrapped the ugly cloth around his head and set out to search for clean underwear. He slapped on some boxers and put on the trousers and the shirt with the same lack of exactingness. Nnoitra wasn't the picky type when it came to anything associated with the body and he care-freely transformed his total lack of fashion taste into his own unique way of dressing. If asked about his view on fashion, he'd sputter out something resembling 'an unimaginative motive for conformism and social assimilation', but thankfully no one was suicidal enough to nag at him for his inability to dress like a normal person.

He padded to the kitchen on his naked feet, took some cereal and milk from the fridge, mixed the food up in a bowl and started spooning it hungrily. As he was having breakfast, uninvited memories from yesterday started coming back to his head. The interview, the accident, the green-haired woman and her elderly uncle, the hospital, the strange conversation he had had with Shou and Neliel, Sosuke Aizen's arrival, the unhappy, burlesqued family reunion that happened at the wrong time in the wrong place in front of the wrong people. It left a bad taste in Nnoitra's mouth, making the cereal seem stale and tasteless. He tried to suppress the images from that unsightly scene but they just kept returning and flashing across his eyes in forms that started differing from the original. Nnoitra's mind was warping them into grotesque pictures, transforming Sosuke Aizen into a crimson giant with an incinerating gaze, Shou – a pallid lifeless zombie and Neliel – a blood-stained angel with chopped off wings, curled in a ball and wailing like a tortured spirit.

He shook his head and pulled the reins on his mind. It was getting ridiculous. He was being plagued by something that wasn't concerning him in the slightest. What those fuckers did to each other behind closed doors didn't bother him. Sosuke could be raping his own daughter for all Nnoitra cared.

Alright, maybe that was a little too extreme, even for Nnoitra to remain unaffected. The faint shade of guilt that was cast across his conscience was enough to make him take his thoughts back. He gulped down the last drop of his breakfast and strode to the fridge, swung the door open and scrutinized its contents. No eggs, no tomatoes, running low on cheese… shit. And the cheese seemed to be getting more expensive by the week. He picked his wallet on his way out, put on some sandals casually and walked out of his apartment.

Busy streets as usual. This town didn't seem to sleep even this early in the morning. Most of the shops were already open, merchants selling small souvenirs had already set up their goods on show for curious and unsuspecting tourists who'd buy it here without knowing that there was a shop down the street selling all of the stuff here for half the price. Nnoitra was strolling carelessly, passing by other pedestrians, cyclists and people jogging steadily without bothering to look at them. The cool morning breeze was stroking his sides gently but Nnoitra didn't feel it. He was still walking through the crowd in a stupor, in a direction that was supposedly where the market was.

It's not like it was so important. Food. He'd go without it for another day or two. It's just that he didn't want to spend more time in that small, horrifying box called his apartment. It invoked too many unpleasant memories for him. Whenever he took a look around the walls, he still had the feeling that the dust layer on some places was thinner than on others. It still had the barely noticeable shape of a square. Like a portrait. The wall to the left of his bed was still unoccupied by furniture and it left a painfully noticeable space, as if it spoke that something was supposed to stand there but had gone missing. Or was lost.

And to think that so much time had passed since then…

Nnoitra's behavior was out of the ordinary no matter in what surroundings you place him. He was always snappish and quick-tempered, there was also an air of uneasiness and neuroticism about him, as if he expected that something was going to come get him. Even in his own home he felt uneasy. If someone ever came to visit, he'd notice that Nnoitra never looked straight at any of the objects in the room. His eyes may be pointed in their direction, but his gaze was going _through_ them, just like one would not look a person on bad terms with in the eyes. There was a green two-seater couch facing the TV occupying the small area used as the living room. Nnoitra always sat on the right side and never on the left. He didn't even lay down or rest his hands on the left side. His limbs and body would reposition themselves almost reflexively away from the left side of the couch and he wouldn't even pay attention to this action. It was also weird how come there were stains from pizza sauce, beer and coffee on only his side of the couch and the other side was completely spotless. Nnoitra wasn't the fastidious, hygiene-obsessed type, so he'd always make a mess of his home whenever he had the chance, but it was striking how he had somehow evaded dirtying just the left side of his couch. Nnoitra's character was as conducive to studying as a spider was disposed to learning Cossack dances, thus leaving this quirk of his a mystery.

Nnoitra stumbled onto the market before he knew it. He went inside and restlessly strode through the lines of various groceries, stopping briefly to pick an item, take a look at the expiring date and toss it in the basket. The speakers were playing 'Lucky Love' by Ace of Base quietly, setting Nnoitra's chronically strained nerves on fire again. There were people everywhere in here. Mothers were pushing shopping carts with their little ones riding inside them, old folks were moving around with baskets full of groceries, young girls in the market's uniform and silly hats were offering samples and there was Nnoitra was eyeing everyone around him with a frown, as if provoking them to start a fight with him. This place was crawling with people. He never felt comfortable with so many people walking around; there was too much movement. Too much sound. Too much life. Listening to complete strangers talking to each other was annoying him to great degree for a reason even he couldn't understand clearly. Nnoitra snorted in detestation when he saw a teenager filling up a cart with overprized packs of potato chips. Stupid brat! He'd get around when he gets too fat to pass through the entrance door of his house.

He made a turn to the line with the oil and sugar and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw a familiar figure. God fuckin damn it! Why the fuck here of all places!? And why the fuck did it have to be so soon!?

Shou Aizen was strolling slowly with a half-full basket of apples and glancing randomly at the prices of the commodities. Nnoitra recoiled and held back a gasp of surprise before he hid behind the shelf. He gritted his teeth angrily and cursed his own luck. Nnoitra was not a strict believer in higher forces such as God or fate, but he was on his way to becoming one. Why the hell was this man shopping here when his home, or whatever's left of it, is at least two miles away from here? And shouldn't he be lying on a bed, resting and recuperating from the shock he had yesterday? Surviving a near-death experience and getting in a fight with his brother all in one day would tell on one's nerves considerably. Though, if Nnoitra thought about it more carefully, that man was living an outcast's life, so the only one he could depend on even in a dire situation like this one was himself. How deplorable. As sad as it was, Nnoitra didn't have the slightest intention of associating himself with this man and his family again. One hell of a day in the company of the Aizens was more than he could bear.

He turned around and walked a roundabout way to the check-out as quickly as possible, praying that he didn't bump into him on the way out by another freakish chance. To his utmost relief, the queue was a very short one, which meant that he'd be out of the building in less than two minutes. There was an old woman with a basket brim-filled with groceries before him, which made Nnoitra release a deep sigh. He was fidgeting in his place, moving his eyes around nervously and starting violently whenever he heard a voice resembling Shou's hoarse tone. His paranoia was acting up again, he'd probably mistake some random person for Neliel's uncle any time now.

Nnoitra didn't realize when his turn came and the cashier was tapping his fingers impatiently for Nnoitra to settle his basket on the pay-desk. Just as the cashier was about to give him the bill when he heard a horrifyingly familiar voice calling his name somewhere behind him.

"Nnoitra!"

The person in question felt his blood turning to ice cubes. "Ignore him. Pretend that you didn't hear him." His heart raced fast in his chest and his hands started trembling, nearly causing him to drop his wallet on the floor. He gave the lad the money quickly and strode towards the exit with his goods, trying to remain as composed as visually possible.

_"Don't run. You can't hear him, you're busy dealing with your own shit."_

"Nnoitra!" The voice came again, this time from noticeably closer distance.

_"Don't fuckin run, or else you'll give yourself away!"_

He was walking straight ahead, not daring to turn his head or look around, lest he met that old man's greenish-grey gaze. The street was lying open in front of him, but the distance to his home now seemed incalculably long. He sped up his tread.

"Nnoitra!"

A hand rested heavily on his shoulder.

_"God fuckin damn it!"_ Nnoitra swore mentally and whirled around in place.

Same hair, same eyes, same senile expression, even the same clothing. Did he even bother to take a shower from that explosion yesterday? In fact, did he even live anywhere now or was he slouching about the streets without a roof on his head?

Shou Aizen's face wrinkled in a broad smile.

"I've been calling you for five minutes, but you seemed to be too busy to hear me."

"Yeah… something like that." Nnoitra drawled dubiously.

The old man gave Nnoitra a fatherly pat on the shoulder and lined up next to him.

"The goods they sell here seems to be cheaper than anywhere else." Shou shared his observations with Nnoitra as they walked down the street. "And to think that most supermarkets overtax their goods."

Nnoitra, who was paying little to no attention to anything the old fart was saying right now, glanced at his bag. It was full of apples. At least two kilos of apples.

"That's a lot of apples." Nnoitra shared his observations in return. "Like eating healthy food?"

"Not exactly." Shou shook his head and smiled. "I'm buying all of these for my Neliel. She loves apples."

"I don't think she'll be able to eat that much."

"Now, now, there's nothing that can fix you up better than some good fruit when you're ill. Plus, I'll feel calmer knowing that Neliel eats things picked by my hand, rather than whatever grub they serve at the hospital."

"Yeah, you may never know." Nnoitra murmured nonchalantly. "Now, you see, there is this—"

"I'm sorry that you had to see what happened yesterday." Shou said sadly. "My brother can't hold his temper at times, especially when I'm in the same room he is."

Nnoitra pursed his lips and remained silent. Yesterday's acquaintance with Neliel Aizen was ruined with her father's untimely arrival. Though his impression of Neliel was overall a fairly good one, Sosuke's violent attitude towards his brother left a permanent black mark in Nnoitra's memory. Nnoitra felt a bad taste in his mouth after witnessing that scene, as if he had discovered someone's secret or peeked in somebody's private life, which, technically speaking, he pretty much did. Or, to be more precise, he was forced to see it. A small piece of the life of the Aizen family. It was unfortunate that someone as good-tempered as Neliel shared the same blood with this maniac. It was now when Nnoitra started asking himself how his conversation with Neliel would have continued back then if her dad hadn't barged in the room like a typhoon of bad news.

"Her father is so excessively cruel at times. He thinks that he is teaching her something right now, but all he is doing is widening the gap between himself and Neliel. She needs to have people around her. People she can trust."

'_Which is why you're going back there with all them apples, despite the risk of having your ass kicked by your deranged brother again.' _Nnoitra thought skeptically.

"Nnoitra, Neliel has very few people she can rely on. Unfortunately, my strengths won't be enough to be by her side all the time. I will be very happy if you visit her from time to time."

Oh, fuck. Shit just hit the fan. Exactly what Nnoitra was fearing the old man would ask of him. He raised his hands and spoke hurriedly:

"Look, old man, you're seriously getting me mixed up for the—"

"You saved her. You are someone who risked his life for a complete stranger and someone who helped me when I was the weakest. You brought hope into our lives. Neliel looks up to you, she thinks you are something far better than what you state to be. She'd like to get to know you, to befriend you, if you will.

Nnoitra nearly fainted when Shou got to the 'looking up to you' part. Holy fuck, what did he get himself in, **what did he get himself in!? **These people were clutching onto him like a bothersome parasite and didn't want to let go! Wasn't it obvious enough that he wasn't some sweet, gentle boy or a noble, sophisticated gentleman who'd toss aside his personal affairs and tactfully lend a hand to a lady in need? He had already made it clear to Neliel that he was regretful for getting himself stuck in this rescuer bullshit and all the emotional crap that came with it. It was a painful experience to deal with someone as awe-struck as Neliel and her uncle because they were fancying an image of Nnoitra that was a total opposite of his true character and didn't even exist in him. Familiarizing themselves with him would destroy that naïve impression they had made on Nnoitra and would cause much pain and disappointment on their part as much as on Nnoitra's. Nnoitra hated disappointing others not because of the guilt that came with failing to justify their expectations, but because of the way they acted towards him.

They always seemed to pity him.

But then again, his neglectful nature was probably causing him to belittle the matter at hand. How much had he changed the life of those people? If he had ignored Shou's cries back then and ran like everyone else did, these people would probably be in the morgue right now, waiting for Sosuke Aizen to come and recognize the corpses of his unfortunate daughter and wretched brother. An intervention in someone else's personal life at the right time and moment had triggered a radical change, it had set their course on a new path of life. It was only natural that those two admired him so much.

Nnoitra looked at the elderly man with all the silent remonstrance and irritation he could muster.

"I'll see what I can do." He stressed that the conversation is over.

Shou smiled with raised hopes and nodded.

"I'll let the receptionist know that you might come by. The visiting hours are from 2 to 4 PM. She's still in the same room as last time, so you won't have any trouble finding her."

He bid Nnoitra goodbye and left. Nnoitra watched Shou make a turn down the street and disappear when he realized hew as seething with anger and being overtaken by a mood even darker than the first one. He swore through his gritted teeth and felt like killing somebody. He felt like he had been ripped off, like he had made a deal which he was going to regret for a very long time.

Some people were just suited to be heroes and Nnoitra had a clear insight that he didn't rank among them. Those fuckers were just attention whores who'd go out of their way under the pretext of being humane or righteous to give Natural selection or Fate the finger by saving some moron who was either too fuckin stupid or too fuckin unlucky to live. And they would even die for their sake! Overlook the possibility that you might get yourself killed; how do you deal with life **if** **you** **survive**!? You're no longer your old normal self, you're now some inflated superman-like figure in the eyes of the public, especially the person whose life you saved. You get glorified and respected and all that shit, but does this one single deed justify what you are and what you have been in the rest of your time? Is it an impossibility that a sadistic husband who beats his wife black and blue every night he gets back pissed drunk from the bar actually jumps in the way of a car to push a little girl out of harm's way? And what about an ill-disposed father who has had his daughter taken away from him by his divorced wife due to child abuse who jumps in a river to save a drowning woman? Would that also be deemed impossible to happen? Bad people who are suddenly idealized and hailed as heroes know very well that they don't deserve this; their conscience and memories are gnawing them about it. Nnoitra would have preferred if he had died while trying to get Neliel and her uncle out of the building, or at least shortly after he had rescued them. That way people would praise and look up to him all they wanted… hell, they could even build him a fuckin statue. What did he care; he was fuckin dead! He wouldn't be able to stand all the hubbub and attention he was receiving about his feat, all the stupid awestruck faces that gazed at him radiantly, all those morons who thought they knew him just because he had saved one tiny little life when there were hundreds of people dying across the world every day and he couldn't do shit about it. If he ever made it out of this mess with his nerves still intact, he'd run away to the mountains and live a hermit's life far away from all those filthy human beings who didn't wish to leave him alone.

But there was that pang of guilt back then. He was afraid to leave those people. His fucked up personality had left him in a lose-lose situation where he'd either have to spend the rest of his life being haunted by those desperate, horrified old eyes and those clouds of dust and rubble or get squashed by the burden of this fake image that was dumped upon him. Acting morally seemed the best thing to do back then, it was a small flicker that illuminated the black bog which was his conscience. He had chosen the lesser evil but now he was dubious if he had picked correctly.

No, no. He was obviously exaggerating things. It had to be the right choice. The nightmares would hunt him forever, while the fuss, useless worship and forced socialization would only last temporarily. Hopefully, people were prone to forgetting the good things far too quickly and easily than the bad ones, which meant that no one would even remember his face in a month's time. All he had to do by then was grit his teeth and try not to explode in someone's face.

He let out a frustrated groan and walked with his food back home.

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**From the Author:** So much for this chapter. My semester's starting in a week, which means that I'll be writing far less from now on (if that's even possible). I'll try to make use of my free time to write an idea or two down, probably organize them into a readable chapter and hopefully, update.

Reviews, please! Reviews!


	5. Roar of the Avalanche

**Chapter Five: Roar of the Avalanche  
**

I'm still alive! Don't lose hope on me yet.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach. It is property of Tite Kubo.

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People were frail, mortal creatures made out of flesh and blood who lived in a world filled with threats of various sizes. A moment of inattention and recklessness could easily demolish their fragile bodily equilibrium to the point of no restoration.

Hospitals were places where people were sent when said equilibrium was damaged. They placed their trust in the hands of qualified medical staff to properly treat their injuries or cure a life-threatening disease. Hospitals were facilities dedicated entirely to the maintenance of human health, operated by professionals who wished only the well-being for their fellow men.

Neliel, however, did not perceive hospitals in such a warm light. Stating that she had bad memories from hospitals would be an understatement. Saying that she hated hospitals would be considered euphemism. Just being near such a building incited an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach she could barely suppress. It was a place that nobody visits for an enjoyable reason. The impossibly white corridors, the maddening smells of the sterilized rooms and the unknown substances which the doctor's cabinets stored, the uncanny forms of the surgical equipment and the unknown purpose each of them served sparked an ominous feeling inside her heart that steadily grew into fear.

For Neliel'Hospital' was a synonym of disease, suffering and death. It was a confinement isolated from the outside world where one becomes absorbed by the terrified thoughts of his own uncertain existence, monitored by doctors who appeared and vanished like apparitions, identical in their white clothes.

Inside the hospital, time and space warped into something that focused onto Neliel's own unstable health. The sterilized, germ-free air felt fake, empty, as if all the oxygen in it was replaced with something else that was numbing her senses. The lights in the rooms illuminated the walls, floor and the furniture in a grayish glow that gave Neliel headaches. The food also had a screwed-up taste, as if all the vitality and tastiness had been deliberately sucked out of it before it was served in bland white trays. Everything here had an artificial, fake look to it, as if it was made by something different from humans.

Neliel laid on her back and stared at the ceiling for the nth time, killing time by rehashing memories from her childhood. There were quite a few memorable moments worth noting as pleasant or care-free. The only good memories she had of her father were when she was still in grade school, a long time before the relations between her mom and Sosuke went downhill. Back then, he was an easy-going, tolerant parent, always talking in a soft-spoken voice, one of the many things he and her mother had in common. He rarely ever raised his voice and even when he did, it didn't take long for him to revert to his normal, tranquil self. His tone, though always gentle and quiet, could bear so much emotion and power in it, rendering any other ways to display authority unnecessary. In those days, her father bore the resemblance to a God in Neliel's eyes; he was all-knowing, he knew when she behaved and when she was naughty, he was benevolent and just. Even if he did get angry sometimes, his rage was always righteous and had a noble, powerful vibe about it. He never threw tantrums, his face never flushed red in fury to the degree where it would actually be pathetic or ugly.

Those days were long gone. Whether it was money and power, some strange, unexplainable shift in his personality, the effect of a shocking event that took place somewhere in his personal life or his age, something made his graceful divine bearing to slowly crack like a dry shell, revealing a jet-black rotten core of despicability and selfishness.

She remembered the night when this never-ending nightmare started, when Sosuke came home late from a banquet with his colleagues, drunk for the first time since he married Unohana Retsu. When her mother asked him what he has done to himself, he slurred through a half-opened mouth to shut up. When he reeled and nearly fell prostrate on the floor, her mom caught him and helped him stand straight. He returned the favor by slapping her across the face. This was the first time Neliel saw tears in her mom's eyes.

She rushed to her room and locked herself before she could hear that large vase breaking to pieces and her father shouting like a madman.

She sighed as she laid motionless in her bed. Sunlight illuminated her bed, but it felt colder than it should have been. Even the summer sunrays were dulled in this grayish, still hospital atmosphere. And to think that only two days earlier she was outside, sweating in the heat and cursing the weather for making her so dizzy. Now, when there was a thick wall separating her from the outside world, she felt like some pale slimy creature hiding under a rock.

The door opened and a nurse peeked on her.

"You have a visitor." She informed cheerfully.

Neliel smiled faintly when her uncle walked inside, carrying a paper bag full to the top with apples. Honestly, that old man was worrying about everything. Why couldn't her father be like him?

He settled the apples on her bed and grinned:

"How is my girl doing today?"

Neliel's smile broadened. "Still the same, but a notch better."

"That isn't the same." He snickered. "The nurse said that you've been awfully quiet."  
Neliel looked at the window with a yearning feeling in her soul. "Considering that I'm bound to this bed and there's nothing to do, it's no surprising that I'd be in low spirits."

Shou reached out and caressed her hand.

"I know you can't stand this place, but it's all for the best."

All for the best. Those words always made her wince. They always seemed like the most desperate excuse a person could make when it came to forcing others to do something they disliked. Well, not like she had the option to just pack up and leave, but this attempt to comfort her could only irritate her more.

"As if I could forget." She murmured with a half-open mouth. "The image of this room is going to be etched into my mind for a while after I get out of here."

The only thing Shou could possibly do was smile comfortingly. The situation didn't allow anything else.

"Don't you worry. I won't be the only one keeping you company." He said affably. His hand picked an apple from the bag and offered it to Neliel. She stared at it numbly for a few seconds before taking it.

She had friends. Colleagues where she worked and some old mates from high school, though she didn't put much effort to keep in touch with the latter after they parted ways in life. Occasionally seeing their faces over a cup of coffee and exchanging a few words was more than enough to keep a friendly relationship. It was likely that Pesche or Donnochakka would start ringing her as soon as they figured out that her absence was out of the ordinary, then she'd have to spend a half an hour on the phone telling them that she was sort of alright and a whole day with them, accepting enormous bouquets with cards wishing her to get better soon. And they would sit by her and weep and wail as if she'd already died. Neliel rolled her eyes at the very thought of it. Seriously, those guys just loved to overreact in the most out-of-place occasions.

Neliel fixed the bag of fruits. "You overdid yourself with all of these, didn't you?"

"I don't usually buy so much, but I thought we'd need to have something to eat while we're here. Especially taking your condition in mind." Shou Aizen explained sheepishly and grabbed an apple himself.

Neliel snickered. "I never thought my bank account would actually come in handy someday. Good thing I only squeezed money out from dad, otherwise it would've been closed down a long time ago."

At times like these she was taken aback by her own greediness, expediency and prudence. The large sums of money she had taken from her father did not always go for satisfying her whims or supporting her uncle. A little practical thought for the future and some financial security never killed anybody, so she stashed those money in a bank unbeknownst to Sosuke Aizen. She never expected that the rainy day when those money would be put to use would actually come, when she couldn't depend on her father and she had a relative to support in a crisis even more serious than before.

"And before you say anything, you don't have to give back anything." Neliel added and glared at her uncle. A big grin sprouted on his face as a response.

"You're so insistent when it comes to money."

"That must be the only good quality I've inherited from my dad." Neliel murmured with a tiny smile. She dazed off again and let her eyes wander out the window, where the world beckoned her to return.

"I met Nnoitra on the way back."

She snapped out of her trance at the mention of Nnoitra's name. Neliel focused her attention on her uncle. "You did? How is he?"

"We didn't speak much." Shou said concisely. "He seemed to be in a hurry. I asked him to pass by your room when he had the chance." He raised his hands in surrender when Neliel frowned at him. "I couldn't help myself, you wanted to see him again so badly."

"I don't want to force him to visit me. He's already done enough for me, I don't want him to feel like he's my babysitter. He probably already has his own personal issues, he doesn't need another one like me."

"Nnoitra is a good man. A little bit snappish, but definitely a good man. The fact that he risked his life to save yours is enough for me to trust him." Shou stated benevolently.

She recollected the conversation she had had with him when her uncle was out of the room. He made it clear that he wasn't a hero in shining armor and that she shouldn't delude herself about his nature. Nnoitra didn't take pride in saving her, nor he seemed very pleased himself about it. Rather, it felt like she was burdening him with the obligation of securing her life and bringing her to the hospital. When she thought about it, nobody had ever said that he had to feel emotionally attached to the person he had rescued. It was just the most fundamental thing a human would do for another, out of an innate feeling for communal appurtenance. He saved her from the danger, made sure she was ok and then everybody went on with his life, which was where their paths parted. But she didn't want to bid farewell with him yet.

It felt like… she was going to miss an opportunity she was waiting for her whole life.

Nnoitra seemed like a very angry, discontent person, as if he always had a splinter in his foot that he couldn't pull out. People with demeanor as ill as his were rare to find, but Neliel had a clue how their minds operated. Their tetchiness boiled down to an inability to communicate with others.

At least that's how she was things. She didn't have the experience or arrogance to claim she knew Nnoitra's thoughts and motivation. She could never really know if he really _was_ the demon he pretended to be. Neliel was always the one who would get along fine with everyone around her and overlook their flaws and bad habits, but Nnoitra might actually be too much for even her own kind-heartedness to accept.

She shook her head. What was she thinking? She just wanted to get to know him better, it's not like she wanted to date him!

* * *

While all of this was happening, Nnoitra was occupied with the extremely productive activity of lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. His eyes were fixed in the grayish veil of spider web, replaying the events of yesterday in his head. And once again, he was asking himself the question that he couldn't answer properly, no matter how long he strained his head to come up with a good answer.

That old fart practically invited him over to see her. Fuck, his proposal was so kind-hearted and innocent that it took the bounding powers of an outright demand. You can't turn down people like that. It was like kicking a puppy.

But Nnoitra didn't like puppies. He snorted with all the disgust and mordancy that he could muster and looked down on them as condescendingly as he could, just to see their stupid, good-willed grin freeze on their face as they tried to adjust themselves to the situation. He should've rebuffed him instantly, but

He now had unspoken obligations towards them that he wasn't supposed to back out of. But, honestly, who was he kidding? He wasn't the type of guy who'd get bossed around or coaxed into doing something unless he felt like it. So if he hated seeing those people so much, why was he still bothering himself thinking over this seemingly-settled problem?

He grumbled like a bear and slammed the folder with his CV and diploma on the table, then stomped to the bathroom. He grabbed the toothbrush and scrubbed his teeth as if he was scrubbing the deck of a ship.

Damn that old fart! Damn that crippled bitch! They wanted him all for their selves without even considering he might have a myriad of troubles of his own and that he lacked the time to chit-chat with random strangers like them.

He leaped out of the bathroom and slumped on the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to sort his thoughts out. Didn't work. He whirled in bed a few times, then jumped on his feet and paced to the window. Then he came back to the fridge, fished out a bottle of beer, opened it and gobbled it up feverishly.

God damn it! How the hell was he supposed to solve this idiotic dilemma? What was even worse was that he was creating this so-called dilemma inside his head. He could easily ignore Shou Aizen's request and get on with his life. But… what if he bumped in that old man again? He'd be strolling through the market shopping, then he'd hear his abominable voice and see him striding towards him with his idiotic smile, then he'd ask him if he'd be able to drop by _this_ _time_. Then Nnoitra would pretend he had better things to do and walk away and the week after that, the same fuckin thing will happen all over again!

He clutched his head because he realized that he was becoming psychotic. He'd start breaking stuff any moment now and he didn't have the money to afford buying new furniture or windows at the moment. So Nnoitra solved his problem in the quickest and easiest way he could think of right now.

Getting drunk.

* * *

**From the author:** Alright… I seriously don't know what happened. The end was a bit rushed and out of the blue, but… meh.


End file.
