#I always read fics about shiro-chan's unrequited love

[alexiethymia]

realization

summary: [Post-TYBW] Momo falls in love. It's messy business. 

[read on ao3]

part 1

It happens on an ordinary day.

They’re in his office sharing amanatto from Isane-fuku –no, Isane-taichou now (she still feels echoes of sadness. It seems so unfair for someone so kind to just be gone, for Momo to still remain when the reason she – and many others – remains alive in the first place is no longer here, and yet -), the weather is pleasant, a mild breeze entering through the open window that she cannot help but feel at peace.

When before, Isane-san might have joined her, unfortunately, her new responsibilities keep her busy. Rangiku-san, for some reason, had escaped with a hearty wave and a cheeky wink that she still had trouble deciphering. It was fortunate that her captain hadn’t been there when she made her speedy exit (however knowing Rangiku-san, it had probably been intentional), so when Hitsugaya-kun returns to a room bereft of his vice-captain, and containing only a package of amanatto and a sheepish smile, he can only sigh in resignation.

He apologizes for doing work while she’s visiting, but this – him at his desk, eyes glued to his papers but keeping an ear out, and her, animated and gushing about the newest manga she’s been reading – is more than enough for Momo.

He hadn’t really understood, but Momo was nothing if not a voracious reader, so when Hirako-taichou had brought back picture books from the Living World called ‘manga’ from his friends, it was inevitable that she’d get hooked. She even managed to get Nanao-san to join in her latest reading obsession, not without a lot of nudging from Yadomaru-taichou. Still, not even Yadomaru-taichou could get either of them to try out the racier ones she preferred.

It is in the midst of her latest spiel on the ending of a manga she had been reading (‘-so moving, even when it seemed like she loved another, he was steadfast-’ eyebrows bunched together in confusion, ‘I thought this was a story about hanafuda’ ‘It’s karuta, Shiro-chan.’ His unimpressed look shows he still didn’t understand the difference.) that he suddenly interjects.

“So it’s the same as that manga,” it’s awkward in his mouth, but he says it anyway, and only with a slight grimace, “with the princess and her guardian?”

Here, Momo stops, stares. “Which one?”

He waves the hand holding his brush around in a lazy gesture, “The one where the princess was betrayed by her first love who kills her father, and she runs away with her guardian. You said she eventually falls in love with her guardian who’s loved her since childhood.”

Momo continues to stare. Hitsugaya-kun, misunderstanding her gaze, shifts his eyes away, “Did I get it wrong?”

Momo flails, waving her arms wildly, “No, no! You’re right, it’s just like that one. It’s just…” She bites her lip, hesitating on whether or not to continue. Hitsugaya-kun merely raises a brow, waiting.

Momo shakes her head. It’s silly. It’s just that, she talked about that one with him, months and months ago. This is the first time they’ve actually been alone since the invasion. Whenever she’d go off-tangent, he’d be nodding along absentmindedly as he scrutinized another report Rangiku-san left unfinished. She’d always assumed he wasn’t really interested and Momo didn’t begrudge him that since she knew with certainty that he’d give her his full attention if it was something truly important. It was just nice to spend time with him.

She’d actually forgotten about that particular story till he mentioned it. It had resonated with her, a story about admiration turning into poison. Reading that story made her feel like water was filling her lungs, and yet she still pushed through, just so she could see that girl of fire reignited.

“It’s actually not yet finished. We still don’t know what happens to the both of them from here on out…” she says quietly, in contrast to her earlier energy. Hitsugaya-kun only nods. Funny, she remembers that story made her feel like drowning, so why is it that now, as she looks into Hitsugaya-kun’s eyes, she feels like burning like that girl of fire? (It was a story that resonated with her.)

That particular interaction done, Momo expects Hitsugaya-kun to go back to his reports, expects it, wishes it even (if only so she no longer has to look into his eyes). Instead, not only does he continue looking at her, he surprises her by saying,

“Your hair has gotten longer.”

She brushes the ends of her hair self-consciously, “What are you talking about, Shiro-chan? No, it hasn’t. It’s still the same.”

“Yes, it has,” he drawls.

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Yes, it has.”

Momo pouts. This is silly. What they’re doing is silly, arguing about her hair of all things.

Momo is happy about where they’ve ended up after the invasion. Shiro-chan’s shoulders are lighter as if his captain’s cloak isn’t so heavy anymore. The lines on his face have lessened, and Momo couldn’t be more thankful. But just because she was happier that he smiled more didn’t mean she wasn’t entitled to feel disgruntled at the self-satisfied smirk on his face, no matter how slight it may be.

She was about to launch into another denial when he surprises her yet again.

Shiro-chan – Hitsugaya-kun reaches his arm across his desk toward her. He lets his fingertips kiss the ends of her short hair, and brushes a wayward strand away from her forehead, before retreating.

It is only then that Momo breathes out (she didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath in the first place).

“Be careful,” he says, voice sly, “You don’t want to burn your hair off accidentally – again – like that disastrous kido training session.”

It takes a while for her to place the event, but when she does, she really can’t help the full-blown pout. Oh, she’s worked herself up and crossed the threshold to righteous indignation (otherwise, she’ll have to examine everything else going on right now). “Honestly, Hitsugaya-kun! That only happened because you weren’t paying attention!” Actually no, she’d just been recruited into the Gotei, and Hitsugaya-kun right after her. She’d been so excited to train with him (to impress him if she was being honest) that things got out of hand and her hair got caught in a shakkaho spell.

(She can’t believe she forgot, but now that she remembers, what sparks vividly in her memories is the rapid transition of Hitsugaya-kun’s expression from feigned disinterest to heart-stopping panic.)  

Graciously, Hitsugaya-kun doesn’t contradict her version of events, but he does catch her attention, “Hinamori,” just one word, her name, so firmly that she pauses (and holds her breath again) when he smiles (not a smirk or a grin, but a true-blown smile that she’s only ever glimpsed once-), “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not ‘Hitsugaya-kun’, it’s ‘Hitsugaya-taichou’.”

Oh.

This isn’t Shiro-chan’s smile, because she’s hardly ever seen him smile when they were kids.

Oh.

It’s not that his cloak isn’t heavy anymore, it’s just that he’s grown into it, even if in truth he’s only grown a mere centimeter.

Oh.

This is what she’d felt back then when she’d first seen that smile, this disquiet and unease, and curious perfect blankness that she’d felt when she realized that her Shiro-chan had transformed into a captain. That same feeling that she was being left behind, but still, the awe that she could not help, as she gazed at him soaring in the heavens, her Shiro-chan (because no matter what he would always be her Shiro-chan) protecting them all. This same feeling she’d pushed aside, unconsciously, time and again, in order to avoid thinking about it, because otherwise everything would – change.

(Oh, she finally understands, Rangiku-san.)

It happens on an ordinary day. The light doesn’t hit him just right. He hasn’t grown any taller than her. They still haven’t finished the amanatto Isane-taichou carefully packed for them as a souvenir. That brilliant smile slowly fades away into a look of confusion, the more she sits there, gaping at him, “Hinamori?”

It is on a perfectly ordinary day that Momo realizes she’s in love with him.

Him.

Hitsugaya-taichou.

Hitsugaya-kun.

Shiro-chan.

“Hinamori…?” He asks again, this time worry coloring his voice. He reaches out a tentative hand, but Momo bolts upright. She consciously stills her arms against her sides, else she’ll instinctually try and cover her (burning, burning) face.

“Hi-Hitsugaya-taichou!” She stuttered! She has never stuttered in front of him. She feels conscious of everything - her too-loud voice, the ends of her hair brushing her shoulders, her fisted hands, her scarlet face. “I beg your leave. I forgot that I have to meet with Hirako-taichou right about…now. Yes, now! I have to go right at this moment. Bye!”

And before Hitsugaya can so much as grasp at her – to ask what on earth was wrong, he didn’t expect his oft-repeated reminder to garner such a reaction, it was habit by now, was she mad at him, did he do anything – she has already shunpoed away leaving behind only the scent of peach blossoms, and a confused captain in her wake.

-

“Momo! Where’s the fire? What’s got ya in so much of a hurry?” One thing that Shinji noticed about his lieutenant was how graceful she was. Even when she was only walking, she always seemed so light on her feet, as if dancing on flower petals. There is none of that grace, here, now, as she barrels head first into him.

“Taichou!” Her head shoots up, voice so panic-stricken that Shinji’s heart jolts. He places the back of his hand against her forehead. “Ya running a fever or somethin’? If you’re sick, you should head to the fourth. Don’t go runnin’ yourself ragged, I promise I’ll finish all the paperwork.”

She shakes her head lightly. “Never mind that,” Wait, what? Momo not reminding him about his paperwork? This must be serious. “Do you notice anything different about me, Hirako-taichou?”

“Besides you bein’ outta breath, ya mean?” Even if he had no idea whatsoever about what was going on with his lieutenant, Shinji still decided to indulge her. If anyone deserved a scheduled psychotic break, it was her. He grasped his chin in hand and scrutinized her. Ah, he knew what this was about. His face was introduced enough times to a straw sandal for him to not say the right thing this time around.

“Don't worry, you haven’t gotten fatter. Heck, I think you should eat more. You’re light as a bird.” There, Hiyori would have no excuse to kick his face in now.

“Thank you, sir,” she says, voice clipped, “But no, I mean do you think my hair has gotten longer?”

Shinji narrows his eyes and looks closer, huffs out, “Nah, it hasn’t changed a bit.”

Evidently, that had been the wrong thing to say. Flabbergasted, Shinji could only watch as his lieutenant buried her face into her hands to muffle a frustrated scream.