Characters: Soi Fong, Yoruichi
Summary: In Soi Fong's eyes, there are only two paths left that will lead to peace.
Pairings: hinted onesided Soi Fong x Yoruichi
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Soul Society arc
Timeline: Pre-manga
Author's Note: Nothing to report. Feedback would be appreciated.
Word Count: 400
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

In the space of every night, Soi Fong goes from wishing Yoruichi was still here, to wishing she could see her one more time, to hoping that Yoruichi's alright, to hoping that's she's dead so Soi Fong won't have to kill her, to wishing that she could kill her herself.

The nights are long and interminable, a tortuous series of paths that Soi Fong walks without ever moving an inch on the bed, the sheets twisted around her body like a straitjacket, binding and confining.

Sometimes she regrets the face that necessity has demanded she put up to the world. Only a truly malicious person would not be the slightest bit hurt that others fear her or are wary of her or simply believe that she's a lunatic. Isolation from all others has made her brittle and wither away like plants that are forcibly denied sustenance, nourishment and light.

Soi Fong has become the stinging hornet, the silent, merciless assassin of the night, but at what cost? Her light is gone, the candle snuffed out with force. Soi Fong has adapted to the role she found herself thrust into, effectively wresting control of the Second Division and the Onmitsukido from the incompetent fool who has followed Yoruichi in leadership of the organizations.

And she's not even sure that it's right to blame Yoruichi for all of this. But she does anyway. There's no one else to blame—and Soi Fong does not wish even to contemplate the thought that she had a choice, that she didn't have to become like this, that she could have stayed as she was before after Yoruichi left, that she could have simply grown past it and moved on.

Blame will come when Soi Fong knows why. There will never be any forgiveness, not for this betrayal. Soi Fong will adhere to the law, in all things, to see that this never happens to anyone else.

And maybe, when Soi Fong knows that the laughing gold eyes that have tortured her for so long will never open again, maybe then she will find some peace, and she will be able to sleep again in the blackness of the long watches of the night.

Or maybe her brittle, withered heart, hardened by years of conflict and the descent of winter over her soul, will fail at last.

But either way, she will again be at peace.