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lightning-wyvern · 2 days ago

Text

just as i promised

available on ao3

toshiro hitsugaya x male reader | fluff, angst, romance, smut content blood, angsty shit, a literal murder, a little bitta cryin', sexual activity but it's poetically described instead of explicit?, you have an accent because " yeh're grimm's brotha' "

pov espada-reaper! reader (espada who is recruited into the 13 court guard squads; im pretty sure I made that term up)

words 9,275

notes can also be found on my ao3 (see on pinned)

really long read; ts took 4 months to write yo. so grab a snack and buckle up!

snowfall in the seireitei was rare.

very rare.

even more rare was toshiro standing perfectly still in the middle of it, letting it fall onto his white hair without brushing it away. the cold didn’t bite him—it never had. but this time it felt different, this weather wasn’t his cold.

it was yours.

crimson mist, faint and ghost-like, drifted through the air like if blood became fog. residual reiryoku—your reiryoku—lingered around squad four's barracks, even though you hadn't stepped outside all day. of course you hadn't; you were you.

"captain hitsugaya," izuru kira said softly from behind toshiro, trying not to scare him. "you're staring into empty space again."

toshiro didn't respond. he hardly ever had to; izuru kira knew when to close his mouth.

there was a pulse of energy in the air—like a heart thudding just once. a signal. the same signal that had echoed through toshiro's soul the second you were brought back into the soul society. that pulse had never left.

it had been years since your human deaths. years.

actually, almost two centuries.

but even centuries in the soul society couldn't erase the sound of your laugh. or the memory of your blood-stained hands, protecting him in the middle of that rain-slicked courtyard.

[ flashback; human world, both aged 15 ]

the schoolyard was flooded. not with rain, but with blood and sirens.

you were screaming.

toshiro, younger and barely breathing, was crouched behind you with a dislocated shoulder and a fresh gash across his face.

"he touched ya, he hurt ya. toshiro, th-those guys hurt ya." you hissed, your voice shaking. a long, bent iron pipe dangled from your hand, slick with blood.

"they were gonna kill you, 'shiro."

toshiro was crying, but quietly. not from pain—no, you had seen him brush off much worse. he was crying from something heavier, something he hadn't told anyone yet.

"you'll be okay," you said, "I promise. i'll protect ya. even if I have ta burn in hell forever."

the sirens were getting louder.

toshiro grabbed your blood-soaked hand and whispered, "if we die— if we go somewhere else after this—i'll find you. no matter how long it takes, no matter what I have to do."

you blinked at him, then smiled through the tears.

"you'd better."

[ now; soul society ]

toshiro's fingers curled tightly around hyorinmaru's hilt. he had found you. just like he said he would. but you weren’t the same boy from the schoolyard.

you were...

an espada.

a runaway.

a traitor, technically.

and somehow now, the captain of squad four.

you sat lazily on the roof of the squad four barracks, one leg dangling off the edge, tossing deep purple grapes into your mouth and missing half the time. your robes were unbuttoned slightly, and a sword toshiro didn't know you had sat next to you, leaning on the shoulder you weren't using. your eyes, glowing faintly red from what he assumed was your lingering bankai power, lazily followed a jet-black butterfly drifting by.

toshiro hated how much he missed you.

“so, what's up? y' gonna stand there or actually say somethin'?”

your voice called down to him, you not bothering to look. you knew it was him, you always knew it was him.

toshiro's breath caught in his chest.

"i didn't wanna interrupt yer nap." he excused, mimicking that little slur you had always had.

"ohhh, 'shiro," you said with a dramatic sigh, "ya know I don't nap—i reccover. biiiiiig difference."

toshiro clicked his tongue but walked forward anyway. the metallic scent of blood always lingered around you. not in a grotesque way, just... always there. industrial. comforting, in a twisted way.

"i didn't come here for your jokes," he said, jumping up onto the roof to join you.

"nah, ya came here b'cuz ya missed me."

you turned your gaze on him fully for the first time.

and toshiro, in all his adult glory—taller, sharper, colder—felt fifteen again.

you smirked. but it didn't quite reach your eyes.

"what? nothing to say, 'shiro?" you teased, "cat got'cher tongue? or is it the fact that technically i'm a villain and yeh're havin' a moral crisis about wantin' ta kiss me?"

toshiro froze.

you have no right to be that accurate.

but that retort stayed in toshiro's mind. he knew better.

you stood up lazily, stretching, your reiatsu rolling off you like a high tide. your sword slid off your shoulder as you stood up, and you caught it in one hand and slipped it into its sheath on your waist. it thrummed faintly, resonating with blood.

memory.

pain.

"why are ya really here, toshiro?" you asked, voice softer now, "checkin' up on the runaway freak? makin' sure i'm healin' patients an' not drainin' 'em?"

"no," he said quietly. "i came because..."

you raised a brow, stepping a bit closer.

"because you promised me you wouldn't disappear."

you blinked. the smirk melted off your face.

"i..."

toshiro looked up at you now, snow falling around him like a halo.

"you promised me. in that courtyard. you said you'd protect me—even if you had to burn in hell forever."

you laughed, but it cracked and burned halfway through.

"yeah, an' you promised ya'd find me."

"i did."

the moment hung between you like a suspended breath.

your voice was barely even a whisper when you spoke next.

"so what now, hm?"

he stepped closer to you.

"now, i make sure you never disappear again.”

you didn’t respond.

you couldn’t. your heart was screaming. your sword pulsed furiously behind you like a second heartbeat.

you had always hated how damn quiet toshiro could be.

even as a kid, toshiro hitsugaya never needed to raise his voice to make you shake. he would just look at you with those too-old-for-his-age eyes and everything inside you would go still. back then, you thought he was fragile. you never realized how wrong you were.

now? he stood tall, composed, a captain with power that could ice over dimensions—and he was still looking at you as though you were the only thing worth melting for.

"so..." you rubbed the back of your neck, feigning nonchalance.

"ya gonna stand there like a tragic anime protagonist, or...?"

"i'm not the one standing on a roof like a starved and emotionally unstable vampire bat."

you laughed.

"that's fair."

there was a beat of silence.

toshiro glanced down at your sword.

"didn't know you had an actual zanpakuto." he said.

you looked down and touched her hilt.

"what's it's name? you heard it yet?"

you smirked.

"yeh. name's ketsueki no kyomei. used ta have a different one, ya remember her, 'shiro?"

he nodded.

"tsukihanabira no yoruzen... right?"

"yeah. ol' girl changed when i died. when i lost control, y'know? when i stopped being just one person."

your voice faltered, just for one second. toshiro didn't miss it.

you always were much too good at acting fine.

"i heard about that diagnosis. lieutenant kotetsu told me, she said it was dissociative identity disorder."

"mmm," you tossed another grape in the air and caught it between your teeth, "yeah. fun party trick."

"who am i talking to now, if i may ask?"

that one made you pause.

"ya really care?"

"of course i do."

you smiled again, but it was sadder this time.

"the main one. the tired one." you ranted shortly, "the one that remembers you."

"...i see."

you hopped down from the edge of the roof, landing silently next to toshiro. you were taller than him now. not by much, but it was still amusing to see. you leaned forward, eyes half-lidded, a grin curling sharp at the edges of your teeth.

"ya know, toto, ya used ta cling to me when it thundered."

toshiro's face turned red.

"th-that’s not—”

“ya'd hide behind my hoodie, 'shiro.”

he shot you a frosty glare.

“drop it, m/n.”

you laughed.

"nah, i won't. cuz i missed ya, fool."

and just like that, your voice cracked again.

it wasn’t loud, it wasn’t theatrical. it was just... real.

“toshiro, i missed ya so much it hurts.”

toshiro's expression softened instantly. he looked at you like you were a ghost he didn’t dare breathe too hard around.

“i know,” he whispered, “and i did too.”

that night, it rained blood.

it wasn't real blood—just your Bankai, leaking quietly into the atmosphere. you had fallen asleep in the squad four barracks, drenched in sweat, whispering fragments of your past to a wall that didn't talk back.

toshiro sat on the edge of your futon. he wasn't supposed to be there. captains weren't supposed to cling to their childhood best friends like they were lifelines.

but he sat anyway.

because the nightmares were getting worse. you kept calling for people who no longer existed.

"shiro," you cried, your voice cracking, "they're hurtin' you again, they-they're hurtin' you again."

and toshiro reached out with a shaking hand and brushed your damp hair back, whispering softly:

"i'm here, m/n. just as i promised."

the next morning, you were alone in squad eleven's dojo, training. of course you were. aggressive, lazy, gramatic—you had always coped by pretending to be fine with things that secretly drove you insane.

you were shirtless.

toshiro strolled in mid-spar and nearly tripped over his own damn feet when he saw it.

you turned and smirked.

"like what ya see, captain?"

he cleared his throat violently.

"just as i constantly tell rangiku: put something on, you idiot."

"nope."

toshiro glared at you.

you grinned, rolling your eyes wildly, but you still did throw a towel over your shoulder.

toshiro joined your little sparring session, but it didn't last too long. you could have kept going, but ketsueki got pissy when your heart rate spiked too hard for too long, and you didn't want to catch another nosebleed in front of mr. ice prince.

"yeh're actin' weird."

"i'm not."

"ya are."

"i am not."

"ya are, captain hitsugaya, sir."

he looked away.

"you aren't making this any easier for me."

"good," you grinned, "ya didn't make anythin' easy for me, either."

that cracked something in toshiro's wall of ice.

he stepped forward, sheathing his sword.

and then, suddenly, he was too close. your breathing stopped, and his did the same.

"you have to know something," he said, voice hoarse, "you have to know how hard it has been. seeing you again, after thinking i never would. and after remembering that day in the courtyard overe and over and over again and wondering—hoping that some part of you would remember it too."

your lips parted.

"i never forgot, 'shiro."

you were poised to say something else, but you never got the chance, because toshiro stepped forward and you kissed him.

the kiss was slower than you thought it would be.

no drama, no flourish. just the warmth of lips that had waited years. it wasn't hungry or desperate—it was careful, like he was learning how to breathe again and he didn’t want to get it wrong.

you kissed him again anyway.

because damn it, you knew the way his hands shook even when he looked calm.

you had always known.

when you pulled back, he was flushed, breath shallow, eyes glassy with something unspoken. your heart thudded once—loud enough to make your zanpakutō pulse against your hip.

neither of you said anything at first.

then, quietly:

“are you real this time?” he asked.

you blinked.

"wha?"

"are you real this time?" toshiro repeated, "because sometimes, in my dreams, you come back to me just like this. this exact thing happens, and then you turn to sand. or crack into ice and melt. or sometimes the whole scene turns into mist and you disappear.”

“…i'm real, 'shiro."

you grabbed his hand and pressed it over your heart.

“can you feel that? that's me. that's us.”

and he kissed you again—this time like he finally believed you.

later that night, you brought him to your quarters in squad four. toshiro had to admit, you lived modestly. no lavish futon, no expensive wall scrolls. just soft sheets, incense, and the faint hum of a medical ward that finally felt like home.

toshiro stood in the middle of your bedroom like he was waiting for someone to stop him.

you didn’t speak. you simply curled your fingers into his uniform collar and started undoing it slowly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and his face turned bright red.

“i-m/n, i've never—” he started.

“i know.” you said softly, touching your finger to his lips.

then you paused, and your voice lowered.

"me neither. well, not like this."

he looked up at you. not just at your face—you. all of you.

"then... let's not rush it."

what happened next wasn't explosive. it wasn't wild. it was quiet, honest. raw.

your lips slid down the line of his neck like you were afraid he would vanish if you moved too fast. he touched your waist like he was anchoring himself in reality. when your clothes were gone, neither of you looked away. you wanted him to see everything.

the scars.

the exhaustion.

when you sank down together into your sheets, he buried his face in your chest as though he was ashamed of needing you so badly.

you simply ran your fingers through his hair and whispered softly into his ear.

"lemme take care o' ya, 'shiro. just this once."

he nodded.

so you did. you guided him.

gently.

patiently.

every motion was a question, and every sigh from his lips was a yes.

when he gasped—high and broken—you pressed kisses over his cheeks, his throat, his jaw. you held his hand. you whispered that he was beautiful. you told him you were proud of him.

his legs curled around your waist, and he whimpered something only you could hear:

“don't you ever leave me again.”

“i won’t, sweetheart,” you breathed, forehead to his.

and then you became one.

this union wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t silent. there were trembling breaths and soft cries and laughter when you bumped heads. there was a moment when he bit your shoulder, flustered, and you hissed, “careful, baby, I’m fulla' blood, 'member?”

and he laughed.

you had never heard him laugh like that. open, free.

real.

and in the quiet afterward, when he laid against your chest—bare, warm, and glowing with afterglow—you whispered the words he thought he’d imagined in a dream once:

“i told you I’d find you, and i did. just as i promised.”

the next morning, he tried to sneak out early.

you grabbed his wrist in your sleep and mumbled:

“stay.”

and for once, toshiro hitsugaya let himself be selfish.

he climbed back under the covers and kissed your temple...

you never saw the way he smiled into your skin.

a week later, you were in the middle of yet another absolutely ridiculous meeting with the gotei 13.

retsu unohana’s old position as the captain of squad four had taken you by surprise, yes. but in the few months since you’d officially joined, you’d made a habit of getting along with most of the captains.

well...

most of them. all but one.

toshiro.

you hadn’t seen him for two days, and to be perfectly honest, that absence stung like a broken promise.

you stood in the back of the room, arms crossed, barely keeping your face neutral as the captains argued over whatever the fuck it was this week. you didn't care, you had your mind elsewhere. the kind of elsewhere where you knew exactly what toshiro's neck tasted like, or how his hands felt when they slipped over your skin.

gods, m/n, focus.

but then—there he was. toshiro hitsugaya walked into the room, the familiar chill in his steps making the room seem even colder. his gaze flicked over everyone with that same icy precision, the sharpness you had come to adore. his voice rang out with authority, but you heard the hesitation beneath his words:

“sorry for the delay, but i’m here now.”

everyone acknowledged him, but you didn’t miss the subtle glance he cast your way. the one that made your heart skip. the one that spoke more than his words ever could.

this meeting dragged on, just the same way they always did. but it didn’t take long for things to start simmering.

by the time the session was nearly over, you couldn’t take it anymore. you stepped forward, interrupting the discussion.

“excuse me, captain hitsugaya,” you called out, tone light but cutting through the room like a knife.

toshiro stiffened.

the room grew quieter, and the other aptains watched, knowing full well your presence wasn’t usually this… forceful.

captains byakuya and rukia kuchiki noticed it particularly quickly, as did the ryoka boy—ichigo? his name was?

you shot a playful look at toshiro, one that didn't hide the sting of your absence.

"yeh've been avoidin' me, 'shiro, havent'cha?"

his eyes widened for the briefest moment, but he quickly corrected the malfunction.

"i—what?"

you could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you closed the distance between you two. it was playful teasing, but deep down, you were letting him see how much you needed him. how much he mattered to you—and how long you had spent holding back since you had returned to the soul society.

"well?" you pushed, leaning just a little closer, enough to speak low enough that only he would hear.

toshiro's icy exterior cracked. for a brief second, his usual cold stare melted, and he softened. he glanced around quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden intensity of your presence in front of the other captains and lieutenants.

but you weren't done yet.

"ya can't hide behind that captain's title forever," you murmured, voice almost too low for anyone else to hear, tone teasingly perky, "what are ya so scared of?"

the entire room fell silent, watching in rapt attention as the two of you kept eyes locked, seeming to face off.

"i'm not hiding from you, m/n," he muttered, "i'm just trying to keep my focus."

you didn't buy it.

"i don't buy it."

toshiro stood there, his usual frozen-cold mask trying hard to hold on... but you could still see it. the warmth, the longing that had been building up since that night. since that first kiss.

and you wouldn't let him run away from it this time, either.

you leaned forward just a little more, close enough now that you could feel his breath on your face.

(and even that was cold. damn, he was good.)

"it's hard ta focus when yeh're too busy tryin' to ignore me. ya do realize that, yeah, 'shiro?"

toshiro inhaled sharply. his voice was quiet when he answered, but the underlying truth hit harder than any blade could.

“you are impossible,” he muttered, but the edge of his words was softer than you expected. and his lips—his lips quirked into that faint, playful smirk that you knew so well.

“only 'cause ya make it that way.” you grinned back, leaning in just enough to make him feel it.

the meeting ended quickly after, and you had no choice but to pretend you were still captain m/n, keeping your cool.

but the look toshiro shot you before he left the room? that look haunted you the rest of the day.

that night, though, things shifted.

it was like the storm between you had passed, and the calm was excruciatingly deafening. and yet, even you couldn’t fight the pull anymore.

yu found yourself in the squad four barracks late that evening, a shiver running down your spine as you stepped into your quarters.

and there, at the doorway?

him.

toshiro stood in the dim light, his posture casual—but you knew him too well. that stillness was a cover.

“yeh're here.”

you spoke softly, like this was normal.

like the distance you’d put between each other no longer existed.

“i had a few things to finish up,” he said, looking over at you like he wanted to say more... but he didn't. not yet.

it was you who bridged the gap between you both this time.

you took a step closer, slowly, carefully. when you stood in front of him, you didn’t speak; you didn’t need to. you just reached out—one hand sliding around the back of his neck, tugging him in as your lips brushed against his.

he shivered. it wasn’t the cold... it was you.

“stay with me, love,” you whispered against his mouth.

“just this once,” toshiro said, voice thick with something you both refused to name.

then—finally, you let him.

the air in your quarters had never felt so heavy, yet so right. toshiro was here—tangible, warm in a way that made everything else fade away. but the shadow of what had come before lingered just behind you both, threatening to tear apart what you had.

his fingers slid against your skin, cautious but insistent, a careful dance of restraint and need. his lips met yours again, deeper this time, a wordless confession you both refused to vocalize, but you could feel it—the desire and the pain. the unspoken truth was there, caught between the breath of every kiss.

you could feel the weight of his past, and yours, pressing against you both, but for now—this—was all that mattered.

“ya really think this'll work?” you whispered as you pulled back slightly, breath mingling with his in the dim light. the quiet of the room was almost deafening.

toshiro's lips curved ever so slightly into that familiar, unreadable expression. but you knew him better now. there was something different in his eyes—something warmer than the ice that had once defined him.

“maybe,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with something soft you weren’t used to hearing from him. “but... I’ve always hated playing it safe.”

“good,” you smiled, your fingers tracing his jaw. “'cause neither of us've gotta anymore.”

he nodded slowly, as if considering your words. and then, just like that, he kissed you again—this time, with more urgency, more fire—as though the waiting, the distance, had been a cruel joke. you'd both been pretending for far too long, and now? well, now it was time to finally let go.

his body pressed against yours, and the room seemed to shrink around you both. his hands moved with purpose, tugging at your clothes, pulling you closer as if afraid you might slip away again. but even as his actions grew more desperate, there was a softness to them—a hesitation you knew all too well. you both wore the scars of too many years apart.

but you weren’t going anywhere.

“is this really…” he broke the kiss, his breath coming uneven. his hands hovered at your waist, not daring to pull you further, but you knew. he was terrified.

you grabbed his hand, pressing it against your chest. “this is everythin' i've ever wanted,” you breathed. “everythin' i promised i'd wait for.”

toshiro looked at you—deeply, intensely—as though he was searching for something. permission? absolution? or maybe it was both. his fingers twitched against you, and before you knew it, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, heated kisses against your skin.

“don't…” he breathed, but the word was more like a warning. it was as if he was afraid of falling too far, of giving too much of himself away.

but you weren’t afraid anymore. not of him, not of the feelings you had buried so deep for so long.

you pulled him in, guiding him to you with a steady hand at his back.

“i'm not leavin', baby, not this time.” you whispered.

toshiro hesitated for just a moment more—long enough for his hesitation to send a wave of anxiety through your chest. but then his lips pressed onto yours again, and you knew it. he was finally done with waiting.

his hands roamed to your back, pulling you tighter against him, as if his very soul needed to bridge the gap. and you let him, letting your body sink into his as his hands slid under your shirt. every touch burned; every kiss ignited something you’d kept buried.

and then you were there—together in every sense. the world outside didn’t matter anymore. just him. just you. just this moment.

the next morning, the reality of what had happened still hung between you like the faintest whisper, but you didn’t pull away. you didn’t let the distance return. instead, you woke up with him beside you, the sound of his steady breathing grounding you as his arm rested over your waist.

you wanted to hold on forever...

but reality had a way of calling.

the soft sound of a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.

you froze. toshiro stirred beside you, but he didn’t move to get up. he simply stayed there, his arm around you as though the world outside didn’t exist. as though, for the first time, you weren’t captains, you weren’t in the gotei 13, and you weren’t at war with the past.

there was something raw in the silence. you both needed this. you both needed each other in a way that made everything else seem insignificant.

the knocking came again, more urgent this time. you cursed under your breath, then again out loud, loud enough for whoever had shattered the moment to hear. toshiro didn’t say anything, but his grip tightened.

“they'll want us back,” you murmured.

“i know.” he said. his voice was soft, resigned.

but you both knew this wasn’t over; it couldn’t be. not yet, not when so much of your history together had yet to be rewritten.

the next few days would be filled with the return of responsibility. there would be missions. uncertainty. the gotei 13 wasn’t a place for the kind of love you shared—not yet, not with this history—but you would fight for it. you had promised each other that much.

and so, when the next knock came, you stood and pulled on your uniform with a steady hand. but as you glanced back at toshiro, who was still lying in bed, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t name, you knew. this was just the beginning.

the rest of the world would wait.

toshiro hadn’t left your side for three days.

it wasn’t like the duties of the gotei 13 had simply ceased to exist; no, there was still paperwork, training, and the constant hum of battle threatening at the edges of the peace you had so longed for. But he was here, and so were you. together, in this strange cocoon of comfort that existed only when you didn’t have to think about anything else.

but this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. you could feel it in every quiet glance, every touch that lingered just a second too long. he wasn’t just a captain... not anymore.

and neither were you.

you had crossed a line, and neither of you could take it back. the question now was, what would come next?

the weight of your responsibilities hit hard the next day. the first knock on your door was the start of it all. you couldn’t exactly stay locked away forever, not even with toshiro.

by the time you left your quarters, toshiro was already at the training grounds, looking as composed and detached as ever—his ice-blue eyes betraying nothing but the faintest flicker of something different.

he didn't want to show it, but you knew. that was the thing about knowing someone for literal centuries. you eventually grew to read that person like a book, no matter how many pages they turned or how quickly.

"ya ready?" you asked, strolling over to him. your voice was quiet, but the air between you felt louder than anything else present in the entire soul society.

he nodded without a word, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips. he wasn't hiding it quite as well as he thought.

"let's go," you whispered, pulling your zanpakuto from its sheath with a sharp motion. you could feel its pulse beneath your grip, a heartbeat of power that had long been your constant companion.

you could find no reason to hold back today.

toshiro unsheathed hyorinmaru with effortless precision, his form glowing with the usual beautiful, icy grace. even now, even after everything that had happened, he still had that ethereal, unreachable, untouchable air to him—but you could see the cracks in the facade.

toshiro's eyes lingered on you for a heartbeat too long before he spoke.

“don't hold back, m/n. i don’t need you to take it easy on me.”

you raised an eyebrow, feeling a smirk tug at your lips.

"never. not my style."

you took your stance, waiting for him to make the first move.

the silence between you both shattered as toshiro moved in an instant, the air around him freezing with every step. but you were faster, your zanpakuto cutting through the air with a resonance that sent a wave of power through the ground beneath your feet. your blood—your sword—was alive today, and you could feel it pulsing in time with your heart.

the clash of steel rang out, the sound sharp and crystalline. your blood, ever-responsive to the call of your zanpakuto, surged as you parried his strike, sending a burst of crimson energy back at him. he blocked, but the sheer force of your attack made him slide back a few paces. there was a flicker of surprise in his gaze.

“you've been holding out on me,” he muttered, but there was an edge of amusement in his tone.

“wouldn't dream of it,” you teased, before lunging at him with a savage overhead swing. your sword whistled through the air, trailing faint traces of red, but toshiro blocked it again, his body a perfect picture of controlled power.

it was a beautiful battle, a dance of two captains who knew each other’s moves just as well as they knew their own hearts. there was no need for words, not when the fight itself spoke volumes. you could feel the tension between you both—a pulse of something deeper than rivalry, something raw and real.

toshiro's strikes came faster, colder, the air around him growing heavier with each swing of his sword. it wasn’t just his ice that you were up against anymore. it was his emotions—the things he refused to say, the things he had locked away for too long.

you could sense it. the way he hesitated for just a moment longer than necessary. the way his eyes would catch yours, then quickly look away. he wasn’t just fighting you anymore. he was fighting something inside himself.

and that something, you realized with a shock, was you.

his breath came in shallow gasps now, and you pressed harder, your blood-wrought strikes pushing him further back with every blow.

“why are ya fightin' me, toshiro?” you asked suddenly, your voice low, cutting through the battle like a dagger.

his sword stopped mid-air, frozen, his gaze locking onto yours.

“ya know,” you continued, taking a step forward, “this isn’t just about strength. ya know what’s goin' on.”

he clenched his jaw. "i'm not fighting you, we're sparring."

his voice was a low growl, his eyes narrowed, yet there was something in them—something vulnerable—that you hadn’t seen before.

"ya are," you countered, closing the space between you. “an' yeh've been doin' it for so long, i don’t even think ya know how to stop.”

the tension between you was palpable now, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath.

and then, without warning, toshiro's lips were on yours—rough, hungry, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer. hyorinmaru and ketsueki both clattered to the ground.

the kiss wasn’t gentle. it wasn’t soft. it was a culmination of everything—everything he had been fighting against. everything you had been fighting against.

when he pulled back, his breath was ragged. his eyes, usually so composed, were wild—raw.

“i'm not running from this anymore, m/n,” he whispered, the words heavy with meaning. "and i'm not going to let you, either."

you didn’t answer. you didn’t have to. you were already moving toward him again.

the moment his lips left yours, everything shifted.

toshiro pulled back with a gasp, his hand still cupping your face, his touch trembling just slightly as if the reality of what just happened hadn't quite settled in yet. but the heat between you, the magnetism pulling you closer, had already taken hold. there was no turning away from it now.

your chest heaved with the intensity of the kiss. you felt both alive and detached—like you were a part of toshiro and yet still worlds apart. the flicker of ice in his gaze was the only thing keeping you grounded. he hadn’t said anything, but you could hear it in the silence between your heartbeats: his confusion, his longing, his fear.

"i…" he started, voice shaky but resolute. "i’ve spent so long hiding from this. i didn’t want to be weak. not in front of you."

you pulse quickened at the way his words seemed to strike you directly in your core. “toshiro, yeh've never been weak."

his lips parted, a faint flicker of doubt clouding his usually icy demeanor.

"well, it felt like it. ii couldn’t protect you then. not like i promised.”

the weight of his words slammed into your chest like a physical blow, and for the first time in a long while, you found yourself unsure of what to say.

memories crashed through you in a flash—the promise he’d made all those years ago, the raw desperation in his voice when he’d swore that no matter what happened, no matter where life led you, he would always find you. no matter the distance, no matter the war, he would keep searching until you were back together again.

the way he’d held your hand before you were ripped apart, each word searing into your soul like a brand.

“i swear to you. i’ll find you. Even if i have to fight hell itself.”

that promise—that unwavering, ridiculous promise—had led him here. but it hadn’t been a perfect journey. there were things about it both of you hadn’t said out loud, things that you knew but never dared to speak.

you finally spoke, your voice quiet but certain.

“ya kept yer promise.”

he flinched at the words, his expression faltering. but before you could try to comfort him, before you could process the raw emotions swirling between you both, a loud crack echoed across the training grounds.

the sudden shift in the air made your senses spike immediately, your body already springing into defensive posture before you even fully registered the threat.

“did ya feel that?” you asked, voice dropping to a low growl.

toshiro's eyes sharpened, narrowing as his zanpakuto hummed with energy.

"yes, i did.”

another figure appeared at the edge of the grounds, their silhouette outlined in the shadows of the surrounding trees.

toshiro turned toward you, his gaze hardening once more. handing you ketsueki.

“stay close.”

the command was firm, but there was a hint of something else beneath it, something almost… protective. like he couldn’t bear the thought of you being hurt.

you nodded sharply, not taking your eyes off this dark newcomer. you instincts flared, and you could tell this wasn’t just some random soul. this was clearly an enemy—and they were no ordinary threat.

toshiro stepped forward, his blade already at the ready, the ice around him crackling in the air. he moved with the kind of fluid grace that only came from years of combat experience, his every step calculated.

you, on the other hand, were already taking stock of the situation, gauging your options. your hand tightened around ketsueki's hilt as your blood thrummed beneath your skin. whatever this was, you wouldn’t be caught unprepared.

the figure stepped closer, and your breath caught when you saw their face.

“aizen?” The word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your stomach turning.

but the man before you wasn’t sosuke aizen. No, this was something much worse.

his long black hair was tattered, and his once-pristine uniform was torn and tattered. a hollow hole gaped open in his chest, dark energy swirling around him like a vortex. but it was the eyes that shook you to your core.

cold, dead eyes, full of malice and intent.

“i remember you two,” the figure spoke with a voice that seemed to echo in your mind. “the traitor and the one who swore to save him.”

the words hit hard. you and toshiro shared a glance, and there was a wordless understanding between you both. you had seen this kind of madness before—this wasn’t just any hollow or rogue. this was someone dangerous.

tooshiro sword gleamed in the moonlight, his usual ice-cold composure now sharpened with fury.

“get out of my way.”

the air around you crackled as toshiro surged forward, his zanpakuto striking with the force of a blizzard. but the other man countered, his own weapon—something dark and twisted—clashing with his in an explosion of energy.

you didn’t waste time. the second they locked blades, you were already moving, ketsueki no kyomei extending outward, blood surging through it like a river. you didn’t need to hear the command; she had already answered your call.

with a slash, you sent a wave of blood energy, sharp as glass, slicing through the air. the figure dodged, but not fast enough. you felt the satisfaction of seeing the crimson power cut through his defenses, but it didn’t stop him. he was still there.

“why do ya keep fighting?” you asked, your voice cutting through the air like a whip. “haven't ya learned anythin'?”

the other figure—a woman, evidently—hollowed-out eyes flashed, and the dark energy around him surged.

“i don’t need to learn this time, m/n l/n. this time around, i'm going kill you both.”

the moment the woman stepped into the courtyard, the temperature dropped—not because of toshiro's presence, but from the raw pressure of her intent. her reiatsu was like barbed wire laced with perfume: dangerous, seductive, and unhinged.

you tilted your head, blinking through the soft crimson fog still trailing your bankai.

"well, well, well. if it isn’t my favorite girl..." you purred fakely, your face twisting into an animalistic grin, "delusion wrapped in lipstick."

toshiro moved to your side, jaw tight.

"former captain retsuya… what are you doing here?"

her smile was venom wrapped in silk.

"toshiro hitsugaya." she purred, "you look even more breathtaking than i remember."

you took one long step forward, dragging the tip of your greatsword across the stone.

"ya here to flirt, lipstick? or do ya wanna die?"

she didn’t even flinch.

"i’m here to correct a mistake. " she snapped, "you were supposed to be mine, toshiro. not… this."

she waved at you like you were filth.

you chuckled lazily.

"jealousy ain't a good look on ya, sweetie. especially not when i'm prettier than you and your hairline seems ta be recedin' underneath all the pressure."

retsuya's spiritual pressure flared violently. her eyes burned furiously, and she took a step forward.

"bankai... yuki no arashi." she hissed.

her blade exploded into a storm of frosted needles, surrounding the field in a twisting blizzard. It clashed violently against toshiro's natural cold, the air freezing so suddenly your blood fog crackled midair.

you grinned, crimson eyes gleaming.

"seethe, my sister, and bathe in the blood of our enemies. scream into the void, in respect for the joy of the battle... " you whispered, smiling and taking one single step forward...

"...shukai, kyuketsuki no kyomei."

the field, once a bright, lush green, boiled and turned red.

the blood mist thickened, your aura erupting as the sword in your hands pulsed like a heartbeat. toshiro's eyes met yours for half a second. understanding passed silently between you.

your blade made the first move for you.

several dozen spears of wood formed and launched at you in rapid succession. you swung your greatsword with lazy, fluid arcs of deep, dark, murderous red—each slash melting the incoming projectiles mid-air, turning them to shimmering droplets of red ice.

retsuya shrieked, vanishing into flash step.

your sword gave you a turn, and your own reflexes finally took over. retsuya's blade grazed your side, drawing blood—but that was your advantage.

"why, thank you, princess," you purred, hand slick with your own crimson as you touched the cut.

threads of blood burst from your palm and shot out like barbed tendrils, snaking after her. she dodged the initial onslaught, but your blood had already marked her. a sickening snap echoed through the courtyard as the threads tightened around her wrist, dragging her back toward you like a fly into a spider’s web.

"my perfect, little blood puppeteer." ketsueki sang, a laugh overflowing with mirth shaking the ground, buildings and trees around the makeshift battlefield.

"wait just a moment, dear lady," you purred as she melted into form beside you.

"indeed," ketsueki hummed, grinning maniacally, "let us give toshiro a moment with his pretty little friend."

retsuya's eyes widened as her own arm turned against her, slashing at herself. she screamed.

"what a sorrowful sound..." ketsueki whispered.

"how beautiful..." you and she both whispered in unison.

toshiro appeared behind her in a blur of white and blue, his ice dragging her to her knees. his voice was cold, flat, lethal.

"you've clearly slipped through the cracks, hanatarabi retsuya. you tried to assassinate a captain... in front of another captain."

retsuya spat blood into the grass.

"i only did it for you!"

toshiro didn't even blink.

"then you have truly never understood me at all."

the ground cracked beneath her from the weight of your combined reiatsu.

she never stood a chance.

you smiled, raising your greatsword above your head.

"ah, 'shiro," you called, "ya might wanna come over here, hun."

toshiro obeyed swiftly.

you gave ketsueki one swing, dragging it downward through the air in one quick, fluid movement. the sky began to bleed, dark, perfect red directly above retsuya's head, and the blood coagulated into a massive, inverted cross. thunder shook the ground and skies, and the great cross crackled with power for half a moment before crashing down directly on top of retsuya's hopelessly restrained body.

"final garden..." you murmured, a cruel smile spreading across your blood-spattered face.

the dust settled eventually. the royal guard had been sent to the scene, and kirio hikifune herself had come along. when she saw what your blade had wrought, she wanted to take retsuya away—her final look one of disbelief and heartbreak, not at her fate, but at the sight of you and toshiro standing together.

but hanatarabi retsuya would never leave that spot. that little patch of now-dead grass would forever be her final resting place, and she would never stand on her feet again. her body had become a statue, half-melded with the perfect, mile-high gravestone ketsueki no kyomei had been so graceful of death as to give to her.

although in the eyes of some, she didn't even deserve that.

you sat on the edge of the courtyard fountain, fingers lazily dipped in water. the blood mist had cleared. you were tired—but not the sleepy kind. more the kind of tired that only came after finally realizing you weren’t alone anymore.

toshiro stood near you, hesitant.

"…you okay, m/n?" he asked quietly.

you looked up. "she was nuts, but not strong. i'm fine."

a pause. T=then, lighter, "unless yeh're offerin' to bandage me up personally. in which case—ow. my soul. it hurts."

his mouth twitched. "you are absolutely, entirely unbelievable."

you grinned. "ya love that about me."

he was silent.

then he moved... slowly. carefully. like someone stepping off a cliff on purpose. he sat down beside you, gaze locked to the moonlit water, and his voice was barely a whisper.

"you're still real… right? you're here, and not going to disappear again?"

you blinked. "toshiro, hun… you’re shakin'."

his hands were clenched in his lap.

"because sometimes i still have nightmares telling me you might melt away in my hands if i wake up too soon."

you reached out. and took his hand. your blood-slick fingers were warm against his cold ones.

"i promised, didn’t i?" you whispered. "that i’d come back, yeah? no matter what it took."

he didn’t speak again—not with words. his hand gripped yours tightly, desperately, and he turned toward you—

—and kissed you.

not with heat, but with intent. with the soul-deep certainty that you were real, and so was he, and this was something no twisted woman or war or separation could take from either of you again.

when your foreheads pressed together, breath mingling in the night air, you whispered,

"still scared?"

he shook his head. "just… still falling in love."

the aftermath came quietly.

the fourth division barracks—your barracks—had never felt more like home. the chaos of the attack was long behind you. the wounded were healed. the paperwork was... somewhere. probably buried under a stack of untouched memos because, let’s be honest, you hadn’t even pretended to do your job in somewhere close to three days.

nor had you given any explanation to anyone in a slightly higher seat of power than you as to how you had achieved shukai.

you were curled up on the garden bench behind the barracks in the moonlight, robe half-loose, blood-red hair tie dangling from your fingers. Somewhere above, a cicada hummed in the trees. the air was thick with the scent of chamomile and after-rain.

“shouldn't you be resting?”

you didn’t even jump. that voice had become as natural as breathing.

“shouldn't you be emotionally constipated somewhere else, beautiful?”

toshiro gave you a flat look as he stepped into view, hands behind his back. you smirked at him without looking, just enough to catch the faint flicker of amusement that ghosted over his features.

“i'm here to check on your injuries.”

“oh no. he's worried. be still my thundering heart.” you leaned back with an exaggerated sigh. “yeh're blushin', 'shiro. aren't ya blushin'?”

"i’m not blushing,” he said, but you were too busy pulling him down beside you to argue. he sat stiffly at first, spine straight, posture disciplined—until you leaned your head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and he let you.

you closed your eyes. “i used to dream about this.”

he was quiet for a long time.

“…so did I.”

you looked up.

“i didn’t think ya remembered me,” you said, voice soft now, no teasing left in it. “after we died. after we got separated.”

he didn’t answer right away. when he did, it wasn’t with words.

toshiro reached into his inner pocket and pulled out something small and weathered. he handed it to you silently.

it was a button. a cracked, rusted, ordinary coat button.

your breath caught.

“that's from…”

he nodded. “from that day. in the snow. you remember.”

of course you remembered. the schoolyard fight. the blood in the snow. the promise he made through cracked lips and frozen breath. “i’ll find you. i swear i’ll find you again.”

you stared at the button in your palm.

“ya really kept it all this time?”

he turned toward you fully now, eyes stormy and direct.

“there’s never been a moment i wasn’t looking for you. even during the war. even before i knew your face again. even when you were just a member of the opposing side, just a tight, painful feeling in my chest i couldn’t name.”

your hand trembled slightly, but you reached for him anyway.

his fingers brushed yours. then, slowly, deliberately, his hand slid up your arm, your shoulder, your jaw—until he was cupping your face.

you leaned into it, lips parted slightly, eyes lidded.

when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t desperate like the courtyard. it was soft. reverent. the kind of kiss people write poems about and never get to live.

his hand threaded into your hair. yours clutched his uniform. the moonlit garden spun gently around you, full of night flowers and magic and breathless laughter.

“you're mine now, m/n,” he whispered against your lips.

you chuckled. “i've always been yers, sweet. ever since that damn snowball fight.”

toshiro's face went red.

“don't bring that up.”

you grinned. “ya cried, toshi.”

“i got hit in the face with a brick of ice, you psychopath!”

“it was slush!”

“it was cement with an identity crisis.”

you burst out laughing and fell backward on the bench, pulling him with you. he landed half on top of you, sputtering, and it was the best thing that had happened to you in centuries.

you stared at the stars above, fingers tangled in his hair.

after a long then, his voice returned, quieter this time.

“…you still tired all the time?”

you blinked. “huh?”

“you always used to say you were tired. even when you were smiling. and when you were fighting.”

you were silent. Then, honestly:

"yeah. i think… i think i’ve been tired since we died. since i had ta survive on instinct for so long.”

toshiro's hand found yours and squeezed.

“you don’t have to do that anymore,” he said.

your voice cracked. “ya promise?”

he kissed your knuckles.

“i'll protect you from everything, m/n. just as I promised.”

---------------- epilogue

the room was cloaked in the hush of late night, shadows stretching long across the floor, but all that mattered right now was this—the way your heartbeat mingled with his, the way your breath came shallow and ragged. you had been so close before, and so many times, but never like this.

toshiro's hands felt ffamiliar they always had been familiar—but now, in this moment, they felt almost otherworldly, as though the very air around you was charged with the energy of everything you had been through together.

his touch was gentle at first, as though testing the waters, his fingers tracing the lines of your body, seeking out all the places that made you shiver, the places that needed him the most. the sensation was too much, but never enough. you closed your eyes, letting the feeling sink in, as his breath tickled the side of your neck.

"toshiro..." you whispered, your voice heavy, breaking the tension.

toshiro paused, fingers coming still against your skin as he touched his forehead to yours, that ice-cold breath of his mixing with your ruthless warmth.

"do you want this?" he asked. his voice was raw, low, hesitant—fragile in a way that made something inside you fucking ache. he was usually so sure, so composed and controlled... but here, with you, toshiro was nothing but this tender, frozen-cold mess, a mix of desire and vulnerability. you had always known him as a soldier, a captain, someone who commanded attention without saying a word. but right now, in the dim glow of your bedroom, you saw him—the real him—something else entirely.

"yeah," you breathed, moving to pull him closer. desperate, as if you could never be close enough.

his eyes flicked to yours, searching for some sign that this was okay, that you weren't going to push him away.

and you didn't.

you learned into him, catching his lips with yours in a kiss so tender, so slow, it almost felt as though you were breaking something wide open.

he was careful about it.

too careful.

but your body knew that rhythm now, the way he responded to every small tug, every little stimulus, every quiet whisper. you kissed him harder this time, more urgently, as though you still couldn't quite believe this was real—that he was here with you in a way that left absolutely no room for doubt.

his hands gripped your shoulders, dragging you closer still, and the warmth of his skin made your pulse spike. he tasted like ice and fire, and the tension between you both was a constant, simmering pressure... just waiting to break.

and soon, it did.

toshiro's body was on top of yours, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress as he kissed you again—deep, needy, demanding. His hands roamed lower, fingers tugging at the waistband of your pants, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched, the way your body arched into his touch. you wanted him. you needed him.

toshiro, the ever-cold captain, was now a storm—his touches rough and desperate, his kiss an impossible hunger that made you dizzy. the rough fabric of his uniform scraped against your skin, and you wanted more—so much more.

you tugged at his collar, desperate to feel his skin beneath your fingers, desperate to feel him fully. his eyes flickered open at the motion, his breath catching. he didn’t speak, but you saw it—the way his gaze darkened with something fierce and wanting.

“i—” he started, voice a whisper, trembling.

“i don’t care,” you cut him off, your hands working quickly to remove his clothing. you didn’t need any more words. not right now. not when the silence between you both was loud enough, thick enough to drown out every other thought.

the room became a blur, your senses heightened by the feel of his skin against yours, his body pressed flush with yours. the only thing that mattered now was the sound of your heartbeats, the feel of his hands and lips on your body, and the way his name escaped your lips over and over like a prayer.

the slow, tender pace of it all made your chest tighten, the overwhelming weight of the moment threatening to consume you. but you wanted this—wanted him—so you let it consume you. you let him fall apart with you.

and when he finally moved to position himself over you, his body pressing into yours with slow, deliberate thrusts, you both found the rhythm. his lips brushed your ear as he groaned your name, a sound that sent heat straight to your core.

“tell me…” he gasped against your skin. “tell me you’re mine…”

the intensity of the words hit you like a tidal wave. you clung to him, feeling his body shudder against yours as he lost himself in the feeling of being so close, so connected to you.

“i'm yers, love,” you whispered back, tossing your head back into the sheets and moaning. your fingers trailed over his skin, feeling the tension and heat of the moment break with every passing second.

and in that moment, when the world outside ceased to exist, it was just the two of you. bodies intertwined, hearts synchronized in a way that no battle could ever bring. his name fell from your lips again, more breathless than before, as the final barrier between you both crumbled. his eyes closed as he let himself give in completely, his body stilling as he came apart, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

for a moment, there was nothing but stillness. the storm of emotions, desires, fears, and promises all melted into a quiet peace. you held him close, fingers tracing the lines of his back, feeling his pulse slow as you both lay together, tangled in the aftermath of it all.

“''shiro…” you whispered, your voice tender, like a prayer.

his response was soft, his voice barely more than a breath against your ear.

“i promised, didn’t i? and i’m keeping that promise.”

and in that moment, you knew that, no matter the world’s chaos, no matter the battles to come, he would always be there, just like this. holding you. loving you. promising you.

forever.

#~ self rb

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