• He wasn't allowed to be here. This wasn't his squad's building. But he had to be here, for his sake.
    He slowly opened the door to squad 6's sleeping chamber, careful to not make any noise. He knew the rooms as if it was his own squad building, so he easily found the door that led to the Lieutenants room.
    Slowly, he slid the door open bit by bit, for fear of being caught at such a late hour. The room beyong the door was bare, for it's inhabitant wasn't excpected to stay there much longer. He looked to the floor where the form of the lieutenant was sleeping peacefully on her futon.
    He carefully stepped into the room, avoiding a loose floorboard that would surely creak if he had stepped on it. Approaching the sleeping form slowly, he took a nervous swallow. He knew he didn't have much time, and that made him even more nervous.
    He gently lowered himself to the floor, resting his knees centimetres from the lieutenant's quiet form. He was glad he'd left his zanpaku-to in his room. He leaned over her, holding his weight onto the hand that now rested on the opposite side of her body. He gazed down at her and allowed his dark navy hair brush against her face.
    The lump in his throat that had threatened to reappear caused him to close his eyes, letting a single salty tear to fall and land on the pillow beside her silky red hair. He wipeed his eyes on the back of his black kimono sleeve.
    What was he doing? Not even he knew. But one thing he did know was he didn't have much time to do it.
    He carefully raised his free hand and used the back of his fingers to stroke her cheek. So soft... And she looked so peaceful when her eyes, that tried so hard to hide the fear, were closed. He smiled gently to himself. He knew this would be the last time he would see her, and yet, he didn't want to see her eyes open. If he could, he would rather see her before all of this mess happened, when her eyes themselves could be described as smiling.
    He ran his fingers through her hair, reminiscing all the times she managed to keep it out of the way even though it ran the length of her back. There wouldn't be another like it.
    His eyes closed, fighting back the tears. With them still closed, he removed his hand from the other side of her form and slowly lay down, allowing himself the privilege to watch her as he fell asleep for the last time.
    The quiet rise and fall of her chest. The small flicker of her eyes as they watched dancing images in her dreams. Even the small sigh that escaped her lips once in a while.
    His vision goes blurry, and he realises that soon, he wouldn't be able to see her at all. His hand gently ran through her hair one last time as even if the tears still ran down his face, he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.
    When they open again early in the morning, she was gone. The smell... her smell still lingered, as if not wanting to follow it's owner to certain dissociation.
    He had hoped that maybe they'd been wrong. That she didn't have to be exiled. He looked to the walls. To the door.
    But she was gone.