Disclaimer; Don't own Bleach, 'nuff said.
He shoved aside his initial response to flee, forcing one foot in front of the other. No change had been made, not in all his trips here, not in all his attempts at conversation, not in all the times he'd had to force his feet forward, to carry him to that door and open it, to step inside and take his seat and-
And he was sitting down, glancing up at the figure sitting on the bed. The same as ever, gazing forlornly out the window. He could tell her heart was broken.
His was too after all.
In a way, it was a sick sense of satisfaction that kept him coming back. The idea that no matter how much he'd lost, she'd lost more. No matter how many pieces he was in, she was in more. Seeing her, even though she never saw him, it made everything right. It was selfish.
But he still kept coming back to her.
Because coming back, sitting with her, he wasn't in pieces. He was whole.
He felt as if his life had become as puzzle, that the traitors had gone and lost the key pieces and it would forever remain unfinished, filled with gaps.
But watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the slow incline of her head down, to stare at hands that covered that fatal spot, then the slow tilt back up to the window, it was the perfect image. He kept meaning to tell her the truth, but really, he didn't want to. Telling her would have to force her out of the stubborn belief that her captain would come back, force her into the realization that someone else was waiting for her. That he was waiting for her.
He liked feeling whole, and if he told her, he wasn't sure if it would shatter this moment he had managed to find.
"You know, Hinamori-kun, I-"
"When you're better, Abarai-kun and Hisagi-senpai want us to go drinking."
He always changed the topic to the others. They wanted this, they wanted that, but they'd never visit. He'd seen the records Unohana kept, and he was one of three people who came. The other two were captains.
One was Yamamoto.
He sighed, gathering himself. Leaving this room was the hardest thing in the world. Leaving this room meant he would go back to being lost, shattered. Someone talked about in hushed voices, muttered disappointments. He was partially to blame for her current state, after all.
And yet, he really did like her like this. Like this, he actually had a chance to protect her. He told her no lies, just skipped over the truth. Her noncommital responses were like an angels song, and the few times she'd gone so far as to say his name he'd slept so well he could have sworn it was like nothing had happened, like those carefree days of the academy were all that existed - before Abarai had been obsessed with strength, before she'd gotten her captains complex, before he'd met Hitsugaya, before he'd gotten his captains complex (thinking about it, they all had captains complexes).
Standing always took all his strength, walking away made his feet drag, his head drop. He had nothing to be proud of.
Kira Izuru was a broken coward. But as long as he would be able to see her, he didn't mind. All the words in the world meant nothing in the face of five minutes by her side.