Disclaimer: Obviously not.
Beta: Lady Nightspike.
Momo slowly makes her way through the long halls of her division. It's around midnight – too early to sleep and yet too late to stop herself. The darkness is cold and alien and it feels like its mocking her. She looks down and continues on her way looking down at the floor.
She's disgusted with herself, it's a horrible feeling and she wants nothing more than for it to go away. But it lingers around her, inside her, gets underneath and into her skin. And no matter how much she scrubs her skin until it stings painfully, but it still stays there.
And yet, and yet, I still come here. Night after night. – She thinks as she slides the door open and sinks into the mocking shadows of his room yet again, to offer, lend herself to her beloved captain like the little loyal puppy that she is.
She fists the blankets so hard her little knuckles turn white. She throws her head back and it feels so excellent.
His words are pretty lies and his actions are all act. He uses her as he wishes, and she can do nothing.
He kisses her throat and murmurs something to her that Momo can't quite comprehend and it feels so good. Aizen tightens his hold on her waist and his fingers dig into her tight without a hint of gentleness, it'll turn into splendid bruises in the morning. He inhales sharply and she's lost.
Every word hurts more than the previous one did: it kills her. She can't look at her friends anymore, she can't hold her sword like she used to - she's ashamed. Of what? She cannot put it into words
Every touch burns her in all the right and wrong places at the same time. His voice consumes her mind and all Momo can do is nothing. She just gasps and arches her back off the cold floor, mouth gaping for air desperately.
She's just a fuck-toy.
It's somewhere around four in the morning and it's too late too sleep and too early to pretend she's not broken. So instead of taking the right turn to her room, Momo takes the left one instead and finds herself at the squad's bathing house.
The cold tiles feel good against her feet and the lukewarm air of the bath is fresh and Momo thinks it smells somewhat like wet wood. She lowers herself to her knees and gets hot water into the bucket; she rubs her skin until it's raw and sensitive. She does it slowly, with remarkable concentration, as if she's getting ready to cast a kidō spell.
She sits like that for a long time, just staring into nothingness, drowning in the painful tingling of her skin and the strange hum somewhere deep inside that could be shame or could be something more.
The next time Lieutenant Hinamori Momo sees her captain, he's pinned to a tower by a sword, his blood smeared on the wall and dripping from his dead body. And as she shrieks and sinks to the ground something clicks back into place and Momo knows she can fix everything.
She's at the baths again; it's four in the morning and the tiles still feel good against her bare feet. Momo rubs her skin raw again, until she feels it burn, only then does she stop. Slowly she makes her way to the middle of the room and drops the towel. Fresh and cold air hits her exposed skin immediately. It bites into still sensitive skin and it makes Momo shiver. She takes Tobiume out from her sheath and sighs lightly before closing her eyes and placing her sword between her breasts. Slowly, feeling every inch of the cold steel, Momo slides Tobiume up until the tip of the blade rests on her neck.
It's cold but gentle in an odd way and there's no shame inside Momo anymore. She can hold her sword like she used to once again.
Nothing flashes in front of her eyes. Nothing buzzes in her ears and the world doesn't come crashing down as she falls onto the cold tiles painting them red. All she hears is Tobiume hitting the ground with a soft clack next to her and all she can feel is the cold tiles against her naked body and her own blood slowly gushing from the cut on her throat.
She sighs again and reaches towards her sword, runs her fingers against the cold blade and it feels alright. Momo closes her eyes and thinks that it's going to be alright. She can't be fixed and he's dead but it'll all be alright. Alright…
As her consciousness slowly leaves her and the world around her little by little fades into endless gray Momo smiles to nothing in particular and clutches her sword's blade harder.
The next time Hinamori Momo opens her eyes she's in the infirmary, her body hurts all over and Tōshirō is sleeping in a chair next to her bed, his brow overshadowed with worry and exhaustion.
For the first time in a long while Momo cries.
A/N: Well, this is it. It turned out quite difficult to write but in the end I've finished it. Thanks for all the favs/alerts and of course for the reviews. And a huge thanks to my beta, she's really awesome. I hope you enjoyed reading this.