He despised you.

The new third Espada, who was stronger than him. It was a fact, and yet he refused to admit it. Each time he would ask for a rematch, it would end the same way.

"You could finish me off. Why don't you do so?" Nnoitra hissed, before coughing out blood.

He was laid at your feet, multiple slashes and bruises across his body. Crimson painted his once white clothes, and the color was almost painting his eyes with rage.

In this precise moment, he wanted to die. Of shame.