"Neliel-sama."

Nnoitora wondered if those words had ever once passed his lips. He could not think of one time, for he had always held his regards for her as ones of hatred and regret. Hatred for the fact that she was stronger; regret for the fact that he had not yet been able to end her.

Perhaps it was not hatred, but he chose to believe that the feeling that raged through his guts was indeed hate.

Sometimes Nnoitora wondered whether or not he could really kill her. When the light hit her face and made it shine with innocence, he could not believe she was the same woman who brought him to his knees, practically kissing her feet.

He saw her as nothing but an obstacle at times. Other times he saw her as a means to gain the strength he required to destroy her.

He needed to destroy her. How could he continue his ascent to primero espada if she stood in his way, as the tricero? Neliel, who could bring him face-first into the dirt with the slightest flick of her wrist?

She had to disappear.

He had to kick her out of Las Noches.

The fact that any woman could hold power over him drained him mentally. He thought too much about his own inadequacy, and about how much he hated that smug bitch placed higher than him in the chain of command.

He hated whatever dumb ass had placed her in that exalted position, too. How could anyone place a woman in that position? They did not deserve the status! They were weak, feminine, and filled with feelings that made them even weaker.

Women were more prone to falling in love, and that made them weak. If the man they loved turned against them, who was to say that they would be able to kill him? Nnoitora scowled at the thought.

Neliel was weak because of her kindness. She was a merciful creature, and the ones that she pitied were the ones that she saved.

Apparently, Nnoitora was number one on her pity-list. It drove him to the point of madness and beyond to see the charitable emotions racing through her placid eyes.

Still, he was not a psychopath. Still, he did not quite obsess about it. He thought about her quite often, but not nearly enough to be considered obsession.

A psychopath would have torn Neliel to shreds and worn her skin as a coat, and her skull mask as a hat. Even a psychopath had a stronger mind than Nnoitora Jiruga.

Perhaps Neliel was a different breed of psychopath.

He did not obsess. Sure, he thought about her often, but it surely was not all of the time. More often than not, out of sight was out of mind.

She was in his line of vision more often than she was not.

It was hard to stop thinking about her when her physical manifestation was right before him. Her body covered from neck to feet in white and black, thick fabric. He wondered if she sweated beneath all the mass of her uniform.

Even if she was beautiful, he saw only the flaws. Her lips, though full, never smiled. Her eyes, though a brilliant shade of gold, never shone. Her birthmark, though a bright, pleasant shade of pink, looked garish and tacky against her pale skin. Her face, though smooth and soft, was puffy, and she almost had a baby face.

Her hair was too wispy. Her voice was too prideful, too calm, and too arrogant. Her words were all lies. No matter if she believed them herself, he knew the truth behind her words.

Her uniform could have been more revealing, even in the slightest. He knew she had an amazing body as he had sneaked a peek or two into her shower. (Of course, this had not gone without retribution.)

There was no reason for her to hide such beauty, but she chose to. He could not understand it, yet he nearly did the same thing. The only thing uncovered by his uniform was his bare, hairless chest. His chiseled abs were outlined, but hidden. His hakama did not betray the shape of his legs in any way.

Neliel's at least gave away the lines of her calves. Everything was right where it belonged on Neliel, her proportioning being utterly correct.

The mask resting atop her head obscured the top of her head, but nothing could be done for it.

Other than the nitpicked flaws, Neliel was a being of perfection. Her purity made her heaven sent, other than the blatant fact that she was, essentially, a hollow. She constantly reminded Nnoitora of the fact, much to his annoyance.

Being compared to the lowly hollows he killed was irritating, and a huge ego killer. Being forced to have Neliel for company wore on him, and once she was through with him, he feared he would have no ego whatsoever.

(A/N: I don't think I was going to end it there, but I've got nothing to add, and short is better sometimes. Looking back on it, it seems like it should end here. Well, whatever. Improve me, please.)