He exhales slowly, fog escaping from his mouth into the cool air. The words she spoke where soothing, in the way that reminded him of distant memories on foreign shores. He sat on the steps of the stairs that one used to walk into the barracks, his uniform felt heavy on his shoulders. There was a tiredness to him. There always was a tiredness to him. Like that of a rusted tin soldier that moved only by merit of the gears inside of him, always fulfilled his purpose.
"Explanations. When I heard that word, it carries with it the weight of a demand." He muses for a moment, shifting his head to look at her. His hands came to rest on his knees, rubbing them lightly in thought. There was a forlorn sound to his voice, a distant look in his eyes. "Not from yourself. I know that is not your intent. 'Explain yourself, soldier.' I was told long ago; these memories would fade. And they do. But other days, they return full force. A past life and this life, connected. I am the same man I was in that life."
His lips pulled into a small smile, his gaze tilts downward. He recalls words she had said to him in the past, about his nightmares and dreams.
"I will answer the call of duty and pay the toll to everything up to and including my life. I have only known war, and battle. I fear that the concept of peace has eluded me. I know I have done great many terrible things." His gaze sharpened for a moment; he leaned backwards straightening his posture. He did not want to seem self-pitiful. That was not what he was. Self-aware. He looks to her and speaks slowly.
"What haunts me, is if I have done the right thing. To kill a man, to end their life, for a purpose is terrible but a necessity. But..." His voice falters for a moment, and in this second, he cracks. It is not a shattering of the walls which he has, or the complete crumbling of who he is, but it is a small line. A pressure point which has received too much and now shows the signs of weakening. "But the hate in my heart, the anger in which I feel, that has no purpose or direction; that haunts me."
He stops speaking perhaps out of fear for what else he might, the implications. Perhaps because there is shame within it. Perhaps he merely just does not like exposing this side to him to a superior. For all purposes he was but another shinigami wholly dedicated to his duties, to the detriment of many other facets of his life. The regime and regimental lifestyle he lived, was one part because it was all he knew and one part because it helped tame the wildness of his heart.
"I have grown melancholic, I apologize, Captain. My mind wanders."
Like a ship within turbulent waters, he is lost. But she need not know that.
