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I wish when I see you again, don't tell me I'm brilliant. You've said it so many times that I've started freaking out at my own name because of it, knowing that's what it means. Were you joking or serious when you saw me in that damn white dress and that was your first word to me? My stomach still gets squeezed when I think about it, but it's permanent when I think about you, and believe me, Aizen Sousuke, you're the last person I want to think about on my sleepless nights.
You poisoned my days and my dreams, I can't get rid of you. You have squeezed my soul so much that there is nothing left in it except you, and I am only sad because of you, as if you have taken away my anger, even though I want to be angry with you so much. I should be angry that you used me and took everything and everyone away from me, but my anger disappeared as if it had been washed away with the tears I cried. I've never cried as much as I did for you, and I never want to do it again, but I can't do anything else with you, no matter how many times I've imagined it, what would I do if you were standing in front of me again and you weren't in prison, where you belong, but where I want to get you out of in these desperate nights. Not because I feel sorry for you, and not because I feel you don't deserve your fate; actually, I think the world has been too kind to you for being there and not next to me. This judgment saved you from me, but didn't it just happen the other way around, and should I call myself saved? I was freed from your power, which I never wanted to feel and accept, at the same time you will also leave me; I was denied the opportunity to hold you accountable for your actions, even though I would have had the right.
I can't look you in the eyes anymore and tell you that I will never forgive what you did to me, I can never avenge the marks of your fingers on me, and it hurts so much that I turn to the pillow again with tears in my face. I'm ashamed, but sometimes I want you to see what you did to me and feel at least a little bit bad about it, even though I know you can't. I want you to suffer as much as I suffered because of you, but it's not true that it's all over for you, and I'm left here with your memory and the impact of everything you did to me even in the last moments.
I want to grab your clothes, pull you to me, so that you are forced to look me in the eyes and tell you that I hate you, but I am so empty that I think I am incapable of seriously hating you. I tried hard, but every time I think of you, I only experience a lack; you took everything from me, even the ability to be angry, because I miss the sight of your face to at least recall that feeling.
I haven't felt your hand on me for a long time, and that should have made me feel better, but I only felt a lack and I'm looking for you as if you were still here in Las Noches, even though I know that you will never come back in your life.
If I could see you again, I might attack you. I comfort myself with this during the long nights when I can't fall asleep because of you. I imagine that I would grab your throat, that I would squeeze the air out of you, that I would tear your clothes apart, that I would bite you until you bleed, as I did so many times before, and which is so hard to think back to, because no matter how much I want to hate it, the memory is not unpleasant.
It wasn't bad when you kissed me, even though I try to think of it as horrible. You have changed my perception and it is almost desirable, something I would have run away from in my right mind. I remember what it was like to kiss you for the last time after you got dressed and I was still lying there in bed. You leaned over me, trying to wipe yourself out of my head, your nose touched my mask, then you turned away and your lips touched my mouth, which was full of wounds that I left on you. Why didn't you ever want to punish me for those bites? You caressed my face or my head, as if you wanted to praise or encourage me, but I just wanted to cause you pain, and I would do it again now, just come in front of my eyes again - and I cry again because I have no chance, even though I wouldn't let you go anymore. I would cut my claws into your skin so that you would never be able to get rid of me.
You always spoke so nicely of me, yet your voice was full of some kind of smothered disparagement, but perhaps you couldn't speak otherwise. You tried to be nice to me and I tried to put up with it for the sake of both of us, but it didn't change our situation: you could have done anything, I didn't love you and I'm sure you could have said anything, you had no intention of loving me either. Neither of us needed such unnecessary feelings, so why did it have to be instilled in me this falseness? I hate you because I can't really hate you, I hate you because I can't say to your face what I feel and you don't see how much I suffered and still suffer because of you. Would you even care if you were here with me now, or would you just continue your game? How many times and to what extent do you want to ruin me before you are satisfied? I really want to know this, but it's always been hard to get answers out of you.
I've never really known you, even though I've seen you from so close that maybe no one has ever seen you, and I really wanted to know you and realize that when you look at me, what’s in your head. Did you consider me disposable or usable? Equal to you or nothing? I respected you, but I never loved you, you never had anything to do in Hueco Mundo. Then the respect I had for your mind, your manners, your abilities and your strength was destroyed, and you made me fear and reject everything about you, which I was forced to accept anyway.
I also hate myself for bowing to your will, even though I know it was my only chance to stay alive. You're not here and I should finally be at peace, yet it's like life has been taken from me. Without you, I have nothing left, even my feelings are not real anymore and no one can explain why it hurts so much that you are no longer here and why I want you to be by my side, if it means scolding you and tearing your clothes, I know well, no would make you happier.
Sometimes I wish I had never met you, but without you, Aizen, I would have been much more bitter and lonely. If I want good for myself, I must wish that you had never set foot in Hueco Mundo. Back then, you would have spared me from everything that is happening, but this cannot be overridden, and sometimes I only beg you to come before my eyes once more in life, even just for a moment, so that I can tell you everything that I have been forced to keep silent lately.
You know, I thought you'd come back for me. You told me to wait and then you left me in your own room where it always felt so terrible to be alone. I was sitting on your bed, which was as perfect as if you had not ruined the sheets with me that morning. Being together before the fights could have been your last effort, which only you knew about. It was just enough for me to tolerate your body above me, and I remember this so precisely that if I wanted to, I could draw every movement of your face separately.
Sometimes I kept my eyes open, punishing myself so that I would not forget you and be able to be angry later; with my eyes closed, you were simply good to me and your hand was also caring, as if you had really done something good. I didn't want to love you what you did to me, but repeated as often as your nicknames; you called me brilliant many times, even when I was lying under you and my claws plowed bloody trenches on your shoulder blade, as if you liked me hurting you.
You could never really mark my body, the power of a shinigami couldn't be enough to leave a lasting mark on me, but you made up for it with what you did to my soul and head. You left marks and bites on my heart, which you tore out of my chest and which even the absence hurts as much as the pain I wanted to cause you for a long time.
I'm not sure what I want anymore. I would shout at you, I would throw all the grievances in your eyes; all the days and nights when moisture ran down my thighs and I didn't even have the strength to wipe it off before my pants were returned; every kiss you gave on my temple; all the times you locked your fingers and held my hand like that, when I went too far with your clawing, as if you were training an unruly cat; all the cold looks and indecipherable smiles that made my back tingle; the fear you created in me and the heat caused by your wandering fingers on my skin. You always warmed my cold body and I can't forgive you for that.
If I see you again in life, Sousuke, I think I will cry, but all my tears are driven by rage; at least now I can say that, because I want to be angry with you so much. Why did you have to break me down so much that I am no longer aware of my own feelings?
I know you know that I wanted to kill you. I planned it many times, and I regretted it more than once that I didn't try, but even when it seemed like I had the opportunity, it was only because of your favor, as if you wanted to show the difference between us. Although you always praised my strength, you demonstrated enough times that if you didn't let me, I couldn't even scratch you. So what was all that scratching and biting I did on you? Did you enjoy me hurting you and trying to possess you?
I wanted to crush you like you did to me, to give back at least a fraction of it, but my efforts died halfway before I could seriously touch you. You dominated me and I hate that you were able to do it. I wanted to throw all this in your eyes, but if I had to say it, I wouldn't have the words, and I'm not even sure if I tore your clothes off last time, if I did it by force or if I just wanted to pull you in for a hug.
Sometimes your hands on me didn't make me afraid, and I'm addicted to those cases, simply because I can't decipher them. How was it different from the previous ones, why were you able to elicit such a thing from me and why do I now want to feel this, your miserable embrace more than anything else, as I lie here alone in my room? Why did I keep your torn coat, which I tore off from you myself? Why did you let me keep it after you tore off my top and sent me home in the coat you draped over my shoulders, and I left it on the bed and never thought to return it? It's the only tangible thing left behind and I can't let it go, even though it barely retains your scent, which made it so hard to breathe until now.
I wrapped the sleeve of the coat around me as if you were next to me, desperately trying to think that if you touched me, I would immediately pull away from you. Your touch shouldn't feel good, but right now I crave it like air. I can't exist without you and I don't understand how you managed to achieve this when I just want to get rid of you, but the more I try to eradicate you from me, the more you dig into me and take root in my soul.
I don't want to be attached to you; why in the world did you have to be the only one for me? If you're not there, I won't be unhappy, but if you're not there, I'm not happy either, so that you can take it away from me. What did you do to me, Sousuke? Tell me what, how and why, and tell me if you are satisfied that you managed to find it in this condition?
I don't think you would be happy to see me cry for you, as you have always loved my unmatched strength. At least I get my wish that you don't call me brilliant anymore, because I've been a wreck since you left me in Las Noches, where I would never have come otherwise. You forced me into a life I wouldn't have chosen, but in that short time with you I learned to appreciate it, and that's why it was even worse that it ended.
I used to talk to you a lot, but now I don't know what could we say to each other; sometimes, when I think of you, dialogues go through my head. You are my least favorite person to talk to because you always make some comment about my appearance in my head. The last time you questioned why I had lost weight, I couldn't even protest: I have no appetite and I don't have the energy to take care of myself in the least. I don't know if you still recognize me at all, but I can never forget you. Whether I close my eyes or look ahead, I see your face; when I lie in silence, your voice rings in my ears and I feel like I won't last long.
I wrapped the sleeve of your coat around me as tightly as I could, but it's cold and doesn't give back the feeling of your embrace that I want so much right now. If you were next to me, I would let you hold me, I would let you pull me close and let your hand rest on my stomach. I would feel your breath in my hair, I would tolerate your kisses on my head, I would probably snuggle even closer to you, and put my fingers between yours. I love holding your hand, but only recently have I realized how much I miss you and how lost I am without your whole being, which filled my world until now. If I saw you again, I would try to make you understand this, but maybe it would be enough for you to look at me to understand everything, I wouldn't even have to open my mouth. You once said I'm an open book, you don't even have to force yourself to read me. I wanted to prove you wrong, but now I don't know what would you see on me.
I’m so lost, smaller than my own body, as I have never been before, and I long for you to lift me up to you once more, even just for a moment. I want to be on the same level with you, even lying down, damn it, I would tolerate you holding me quietly in your arms, just so I don't have to endure this lack and loneliness any longer.
You messed me up, Sousuke, and I'm trying to recover, but it's hard, and I don't even know what I'm supposed to be like, like I didn't really exist before you. I quickly bit my lip, but you are no longer here to scold me for it and your hand is no longer touching my lips. Many times I wanted to bite your finger when you had the courage to touch me, but I would just put up with it. All my murderous desire has evaporated, and I don't know if it will ever return.
I'm angry because I can't be angry with you: you were always so kind to me, that you made it impossible for me to hate you, even though you did terrible things to me for a senseless purpose. Would it have made you happy if you had gotten me pregnant as you wanted so much? Are you disappointed that it didn't work out and will never work out?
At least I should have been relieved that the possibility of pregnancy no longer threatened. I didn't want to give birth to you, not even when I agreed to this nonsense.
We know very well that I had no choice, in fact I never had a choice against you. You arrange everything so perfectly that the outcome of all my decisions leads to you, and I was forced to obey without knowing it. Did you like to manipulate? Did you like having everything done to your liking? Or did you mean it when you said you were interested in me and it wasn't just part of a game? Was there even one of your caresses that was sincere? Was that hunger in your eyes fake when you looked at me? I can't decide what kind of intention guided you when you praised me: you liked me, or you just liked the effect that your words caused. And I never took them well, because I didn't know what to do with the compliments you gave me so easily, as if I really deserved it.
You said I was untouchable, but you were an exception, and I began to see you as if you had the right to run your hands over me as well as your glances. I just feel broken, I was left injured after you and I couldn't recover. Do you miss me, or did such a thing never cross your mind? It must be the latter, because it's hard to imagine that anything we did mattered to you, other than the fact that I failed the one task you expected me to do and was unable to conceive. It didn't really matter because I didn't want to and you did everything for it; did you even care or did you just enjoy being able to had sex with me whenever you felt like it?
And you even told me not to call myself a whore, when you forced me into such a role! I would have had a choice, but I would never have wanted to die for or because of you. Now I'm not sure about this: I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't care about anything since I haven't seen you, only you, only you have remained in me, and I can't be separated from you.
I don't know how I feel, Sousuke, nor when or why I started calling you Sousuke, as if I at least accepted you. You always intimately called me by my name, but even Aizen was so hard for me to come by. I did not like to address you, but now I could scream your name, see if you can hear it and answer it: and I need your answer, I want to know what you did and why you had to leave me in the end.
It looks like you've given up. The man I knew was invincible, he wouldn't have ended up in that prison. Tell me what changed? I have no idea what happened in that last battle. If I had been there, it would probably have been different, but because of you, I sat idle in Las Noches and watched your espadas die one by one, whom I could have otherwise saved. Were you protecting me or your plan when you wouldn't let me leave your room? I didn't have to protect any fetuses, I don't know what you were thinking, and I could have taken care of myself against some shinigamis. The fact that it didn't work out with you in the end is the end result of a hundred-year-old story, a single day could not have broken me. But I was forced to do what you made me understand; so much you broke my will for not protesting until after losing Ulquiorra.
Did I make the right decision not to stay with you? I have to call it good, but I just hush myself with it, like my face buried in your coat, looking for the last traces of your scent. It used to make me sick, but now it has turned into comfort. I hold on to everything what's left of you, even though you were never mine, and meanwhile I'm cursing myself for not being able to honestly wish you to hell.
When I said I'd shake you and tear your clothes until they came off, you didn't think I'd rip your body apart in the same way. If you were in front of me, maybe I would just stand and look at you, absorbing all your features, then I would close my eyes and hold you close. My head would rest on your chest, above the old wounds caused by my claws, and I would breathe in your scent, which would mean relaxation. I should never have felt this way about you.
You've ruined my life, Sousuke, but how did you get me to not hate you? You may have unimaginable power, which had this effect on me. No matter how hard I try, I can't hate you, no matter how much I want to, I can't forget you and no matter how much I wish, I won't get you back, even though, as I cry pitifully under your coat, it's obvious how much I long for you.