𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑪𝒀𝑶𝑵 𝑶𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑵 •𝒃𝒙𝒃•

Only Memories Remain ~ Age 13

AN: I'm back! This one is a bit shorter than usual!

Was this the Hell Hanae talked about?

The place where he currently was?

He felt the cold eating at him, and yet he knew that it wouldn't take him. No. It was going to leave him right where he was, with no way to get rid of the constant freezing feeling.

Wasn't Hell supposed to be hot? Scorching? Scalding?

So why was he feeling like this?

Why was he feeling like he was slipping under a frozen lake?

_

It felt like time had stopped.

Frozen still.

In times like this, when he was feeling as low as possible, he would always come and try and make things better. He'd come and try and make him laugh at his silly jokes and faces.

But he didn't come this time.

Nor will he be coming again.

_

His body was weary.

His eyes throbbed.

His head felt like it was being split open.

Somehow, there were moments in which he felt nothing—too tired to even think properly. And there were moments in which he felt everything—too anguished to even think properly.

The tears would flow freely, nothing holding them back. They'd slip down his cheeks and leave translucent lines in their wake. He wouldn't even bother to wipe them away, still waiting for his hand to do so.

It never did—not anymore.

He'd allow no sound to slip past his lips, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop screaming if that happened.

His fingers would grip the covers of the bed in a futile attempt to quench the sorrow that threatened to burst out from deep within him and with each passing beat of his heart, it would get harder and harder to hold everything back.

The whispers of his name were the only things that slipped past his lips. He'd whisper them and await the answer that never came.

How was one supposed to go on like that?

How was one supposed to go on when they've lost something they never thought they'd lose?

_

There are moments in which he'd hear the room door open, but no one would step in.

He knew, as he always did, that it was his brother.

The floorboard would creak, as if someone stepped onto it, but no one would enter the room.

Then, as silently as possible, the door would be closed shut.

He'd curl into himself whenever that happened.

_

It would be an understatement to say that his brother was surprised when he left the room.

Aizen stood still as he stared at him, hands clenched together.

Minato was just looking at him, and then he put the plate on the side of the sink, "I'm..." he breathed out, momentarily averting his eyes, "I'm sorry..." he apologised, glancing back at him, "I'm so, so sorry..."

There was a raw kind of pain in his tone of voice. The kind of pain that a person doesn't easily forget.

Aizen didn't speak.