#hitsuhina exchange

[floodkiss]

Hitsuhina Gift Exchange 2022 @hitsuhina-week for @rays-of-fire-and-ice

I frequently find myself thinking about the panels where hitsuguya returns to the battlefield clad in quincy uniform and they make eye contact, as well as him reaching his mature form saying, “I don’t really like this form at all”, and the byakuya commenting on his bankai taking a heavy toll on his body (after helping rukia). TYBW was pretty rushed, so I decided to draw a “missing moment” - a tearful reunion on the battlefield, hinamori catching an exhausted hitsuguya who has reached his limit. I hope you like it, thank you for organizing this, i can’t wait to read all of the fics and look at all of the art ♡ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

[canariie]

For your reblogs milestone requests (congratulations!!) If this pings you, I'd love to see Hitsugaya + Hinamori + CAMPING. Good trip, bad trip, planned, unplanned, business, pleasure... Any kind of camping and any kind of tone!

how to start a fire

Rating: K+

“Hinamori, you’re imagining things—go to sleep.”

“I am not,” she hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She was still bitter about their squabble. “I know there’s something out there.” She turned to her backpack, fumbling around in the dark as she searched for the flashlight. “Did you read the information pack that Hisagi-san had sent? Apparently, this used to be a habitat for bears.”

“Yes, and I read the amended version Ise-fuukutaicho sent—the local bear population has become endangered. The only thing we’re in danger of is losing our sleep,” he grumbled.

…

Momo is sent to train Toushiro in the World of the Living in combination kido.

Word Count: 3670 words

Setting: after the Bleach Anniversary Hell Chapter

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week Gift Exchange 2023 for @whipplefilter

"maybe we didn't argue, but we don't agree"/ "Hitsugaya asks Hinamori to teach him her kidou-weaving"/"HitsuHina from unexpected/outside POVs"

Authour’s Note: This is SO LATE IN ALL THE SENSES. Firstly, because Whipple sent this request in like, summer. And then I was matched with them for the Gift Exchange which I thought I could make! but holidays! & falling sick! (are we really ever as productive as we would like over the holidays??)

(Thank you @rays-of-fire-and-ice for being understanding!)

When I saw the prompts that Whipple sent, I immediately thought of their initial fic request & thought it was such a perfect thing to combine! Unfortunately, I couldn't get in the Hitsuhina from an outside POV but maybe one day in the future!

I had a lot of fun trying to flesh this out and was really happy to go back to writing after so long! However, I believe much like the rest of the fandom, life is going to get busy in the coming months for me and I won't be as active in writing as I would like to :( I hope to still participate in events but it does really inspire me reading everyone's work when I come back to try to write on my own!!

Happy New Year everyone! Here's hoping 2024 is one with happiness and laughter and fun for everyone!!

I hope you all enjoy this!

---

Momo dropped her duffel bag and began to rummage around it, pushing overnight clothes and toiletries aside. “Here’s a clearing: we can proceed here.”

Toushiro looked around skeptically, noting the abandoned fire pits and wooden pavilions in the distance. “Won’t we be disturbing the humans?”

“Soutaicho had reserved the whole camping ground area while the Twelfth Division set up a barrier that would send any human that would walk towards the training facilities, confused but turned around.” She swallowed the gikon pill, feeling her human body leave her as if she were shedding a coat off.

The tenth captain raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t the Kido Corps have facilitated that?”

Momo shrugged, though she admitted she wondered about the ethics of the research division sometimes. “All the training leaders were assured that they wouldn’t be harmed. Nanao-san also reiterated that each cell would be allocated a parcel of the forest—so we don’t have to worry about anyone else while we train.”

With the new frontier of Hell on the line, the Gotei 13 were implementing new training tactics to prepare for the unknown battle. Each division had received a list of candidates for leaders of the cell groups—specific internal training groups to provide targeted instruction on skills soldiers may find lacking. Momo had been selected from the Fifth Division to lead high level kido proficiency, specifically on combination spells. The leaders ranged in rank, from captains to lieutenants and even high ranked seated officers. She had heard later from Matsumoto, Ikkaku had been selected to lead swordsmanship skills, Isane for healing during combat, a fourth seat in the eighth division for defensive spells among many. The cell groups would then be volunteers from across the Gotei 13 that would train with the leaders in World of the Living on a reserved human camping site.

Momo had been flattered (even when her captain had bemoaned jokingly why he hadn’t been picked) but was also left feeling disconcerted at the letter.

A few weeks ago, there was an expedition team sent out earlier to understand the spells and mechanisms that opened Hell’s Doors as well as scope its initial terrain. The list was short and concise with only a few captains and lieutenants selected. Renjii & Rukia were on the list as they had already prior experience in the hellscape. Momo had been keen to go, as she heard her name was nominated by Rukia to help with kido to break down the entrance. However, the day before the mission, her name was taken off the list with a curt note saying that her kido services would no longer be required. During the prior lieutenant’s meeting Renjii looked at her with a regretful glance, squeezing her shoulder sympathetically and she later received an apology Hell Butterfly from the Thirteen Captain before the expedition team left.

Momo had walked back to the Fifth Division in a daze, feeling a bit bereft at the sudden change in plans. The shock must have been evident on her face as her captain immediately took one look at her before bringing her to the couch and placing a warm cup of tea in her hands.

“Hitsugaya-taicho seems to have requested you for your first training session.”

“Why?” Momo asked. She had been reviewing the list of volunteers who wanted to train with her and was surprised at the number of people. If she were to spend time with each one, she would have to remain in the World of the Living for at least a month.

However, she had not seen Toushiro’s name on her initial list—much less expected him to volunteer. The tenth captain was quick on his feet in battle and she never assumed his skills were lacking.

Hirako-taicho shrugged. “Maybe he wants a brush up as well? I know he had gone on the Hell Expedition Team & him and the little Kuchiki realized there was some reworking off spells to be done.”

That got Momo to pause as she was sorting through the files. It had been a couple of weeks since the team had returned from Hell. “Hitsugaya-taicho had joined the expedition?” As far as she knew, he was never a candidate for the expedition, and he hadn’t mentioned anything like that to her.

Her captain stilled, his eyes avoiding her questioning look. “I believe he was the last-minute change…”

“Hirako-taicho—why did Hitsugaya-kun go on the expedition?”

He sighed in quiet exasperation. “I heard from Abarai that Hitsugaya-taicho requested you off the mission,” he said reluctantly. “And when there was no other candidate to go, he volunteered himself.”

“And why would he do that?” she asked quietly, still processing what she had heard.

Hirako shook his head, his bangs falling away from his eyes. “He never brought it up at the captain’s meeting. He went directly to the Soutaicho & the expedition team.”

The news sat with Momo as she prepared her training plan and packed her bags to go the World of the Living. The unease festered inside of her, leaving her with feelings of self-doubt and anxiety. She found herself unable to sleep well and only when she stepped onto the campgrounds and breathed in the fresh air, could she feel the tension loosening in her shoulder.

Momo had an earlier departure time and was preparing the grounds when the Tenth Captain dropped in, much later in the evening when the sky was hedging into dusk. It had been the first time they had seen each other in a long while, and Momo was still feeling unsettled—so introductions were short, and she immediately led him to the training area where she was now beginning a demonstration. If the boy noticed anything unusual, he made no comment and followed suit.

Momo slipped into teaching mode, something she had learned while part-timing at the academy to help compartmentalize her life as a lecturer separate from a lieutenant.

“We’ll start off with one of my prior combination spells in battle: from during the Winter War era when Rangiku-san and I had to fight the three arrancars.” She avoided looking at Toushiro for she knew much after the fact that he hadn’t approved of her coming onto the battlefield—which apparently, things still hadn’t changed between them. “Let me show you first.”

The girl lifted her hands in front of her, demonstrating as she spoke. “The strength of the spell also comes from the foundation of the pose. I know after we graduate and go into battle, it’s very easy to skip this step as we’ve become comfortable with the incantations.” She moved her hands as if they were framing a triangle. “However, as we introduce combination spells, I find that there’s strength in using combative stances with defensive spells and vice versa.”

Her student nodded along, with a furrow in his eyebrows that Momo knew he was mentally taking notes.

“It started off with Hadou 12 Fuishibi: I had used it as a defensive base before obscuring it with a concealment spell.”

“That was Kyokou, right?” Toushiro piped in.

She nodded in affirmation. “Yes—that was the key to catching the arrancar off. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to blindside them in the initial attack.”

Toushiro’s eyebrow raised slowly, almost as if he were impressed if Momo had to guess. “That’s quite commendable that you were able to weave that many kidou together—especially for your first time.”

Momo had to stop herself from reacting openly to that. She hadn’t remembered telling him that it was her first attempt, a decision crossed in between luck and adrenaline. However, she had a lot to prove—and evidently, there were still people that doubted her.

“However, the key is finding the right igniting spell: Shakaho is a common one and it doesn’t matter how proficient you are in kidou—it’ll still give you the right amount of power you need.”

She beckoned with her head, her arms still held in front of her in stance. “You can follow me for now and then we can try separately on our own, Hitsugaya-taicho.”

When he mirrored suit, she started reciting the incantations—pausing in between lines to explain the steps.

“You start trying to imagine a series of lines, crossing each other. Imagine the intersection and focus on that. Personally, for me, it helps to visualize the centers becoming brighter to build a stronger net.”

“Like Bakudo #4, Hainawa?”

Momo winced, sensing the kidou web pull away from her. “Not really. It’s the foundation—it’s not the main goal. You’re setting up trajectory for the blast to follow.”

“Is it necessary to recite the full spell?”

“Sort of—I find it helpful to not focus fully on the incantation but instead what it represents. Breaks down the rigidity of the tradition and make it more malleable in combining different spells.”

“How do you control the scale of the net?”

“It’s all in the visualization—you need to imagine it,” she responded quickly as she felt herself faltering. The net grew dimmer and wilted, like a flower causing Momo to repeat the previous line again. She wasn’t used to being interrupted so often.

“When do you switch hand positions?”

“Hold on Hitsugaya—”, Momo could feel the net pull away from her like a storm wind catching hold of a kite. She proceeded forward and, in her haste, she skipped two lines ahead in the incantation.   

The effects were immediate with the strings of the net burning brighter and brighter. Momo faltered, immediately stopping the incantation but it was too late. The net hummed in power before it exploded, sending sparks back at the shinigami & the wooden structures.

Momo could only watch as Toushiro immediately called a cool wind forth to snuff out the embers, leaving just a sizzling trail of smoke as the remains of the misspell.

“I think we better call it for the night,” he said with a measured tone, evaluating the scene.

The slip back into their gigai was so quiet and routine that even the shift of corporeal bodies couldn’t cut the thick tension between the two. The moon was hanging high & alone by the time they had returned silently back to their campsite.

Momo immediately started collecting broken branches and twigs to start the fire. She kept her head down, repeating the recent events in her head over and over. Even though Toushiro had been peppering her with questions, she knew she was accustomed to that from teaching new recruits—and inwardly Momo knew that it was her earlier feelings towards the young captain that made her mess up the incantation. There was a strong part of her that was ashamed for getting her emotions get in the way of teaching—something she had promised herself she would learn to keep professional and private matters separate.

Momo sighed deeply, walking back to their clearing, and dumping the wood into the firepit. As she rearranged the pieces into a tented position, she could feel Toushiro’s eyes on her—much like earlier, observing quietly and learning.

“It’s to help structure the flame,” she explained quietly. Momo pulled some newspapers she had brought with her and began shredding them over the pit.

“How do you know how to do this?”

“Hirako-taicho and I went on camping trips as a way to get to know each other when we first started working together. The other Vizards would also join us as well.”

Toushiro rolled his eyes. “It still amazes me how he can circumvent rules to do it.” It was an offhand comment, nothing out of the ordinary for the young captain. However, at that moment it deeply grated at her nerves, and it struck raw.

Momo snapped a branch in her hand. “Hirako-taicho completes his work as necessary. He also doesn’t cross the line—unlike you Hitsugaya-taicho.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Hinamori?”

“You pulled rank and took me off the Hell expedition,” she said curtly, yanking out the matchstick box from her pocket and snapping the match strong against the box.

There was a pause where Momo could only hear the friction of the match. “You’re not ready,” Toushiro said carefully, as if he were approaching a skittish creature. “There are far too many unknowns, and the risk is too great.”

“You had no business deciding to do so.” The match didn’t catch, and Momo cursed under her breath as she flicked it to the ground. She pulled another one out and began again.

“Other lieutenants were pulled off as well, it came down to essential personnel only.”

“No, Hitsugaya-taicho, you are a captain of the Tenth Division and were overstepping your bounds. Kuchiki-san had requested me on that mission for my skills and you decided to pull me off.”

The match ignited brightly in her hands. Momo dropped it into the pile of wood where it immediately spurred into large flames. She looked up to see the fire reflecting in his turquoise eyes, resolute.

“If I had to do it again, I would,” he said solemnly, holding his ground across the fire from her.

“Well that’s the difference between us, Hitsugaya-taicho—I would be honest with someone if I didn’t think they were good enough.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he sighed.

Momo straightened her shoulders back and stared firmly back at him through the flames. “I am a lieutenant of the Fifth Division, I have earned my way to serve the Gotei 13—whether you like it or not.”  

--

Dinner was a quiet tense affair with the two of them eating their packed meals quite far and separated from each other. Momo had already started to feel awful from such negative feelings, but on principle she held her ground, quickly scarfing down her onigiri.

They had changed in silence to their sleeping clothes, each taking turns to watch shift before tucking into their respective sleeping bags across the fire pit. In the absence of a “good night,” Momo felt remorse, and found herself consciously holding back from asking if Toushiro was awake.

When they were younger, they’d climb up onto the thatched roofs to stargaze during the night. The hay would itch at bare skin and it would always take the two of them a while to get settled, but when they had found their spots, it was like the world quieted again and they lost themselves in counting the constellations. Sometimes she would speak and Toushiro would respond, in either one sentence responses or noises of affirmation—but always honest. And when it became too quiet to speak, the two would just lie in silence. It was those peaceful moments that would ground Momo whenever she was away studying in the academy; where it felt like possibilities were endless, but home was right behind her, keeping her grounded and safe.

But that felt like a different lifetime with too much death in between to tie them to the same life.

A loud rustle startled Momo from her stupor.

She pushed herself up off the ground. “Did you hear that?”

There was another sound, a creak.

“Hitsugaya-kun,” Momo called out, a twinge of fear creeping into her voice.

“I’m trying to sleep,” he groused.

She persisted, sitting up and listening carefully. The fire crackled and hissed, and Momo strained to hear through the crackle of the fire. Internally she felt at lost without being able to detect the rieatsu of whatever was out there.

“Hinamori, you’re imagining things—go to sleep.”

“I am not,” she hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She was still bitter about their squabble. “I know there’s something out there.” She turned to her backpack, fumbling around in the dark as she searched for the flashlight. “Did you read the information pack that Hisagi-san had sent? Apparently, this used to be a habitat for bears.”

“Yes, and I read the amended version Ise-fuukutaicho sent—the local bear population has become endangered. The only thing we’re in danger of is losing our sleep,” he grumbled.

“I forgot how grumpy you get when you don’t get your sleep,” Momo murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

A rustle was heard and Toushiro shot up, his eyes much alert. “I think there’s something approaching.”

Momo fought the urge to roll her eyes as she fished out the flashlight. “That’s what I was saying.”

A twig broke and immediately Toushiro slipped a gikon pill in, his human body falling back onto the sleeping bag.

“I’m not going to use Hyourinmaru—the weather changes will alert the humans nearby.”

Momo rustled through her duffle bag, pulling things out rapidly. “I can’t find my gikon pills—I must have left them at the training site.”

Toushiro stepped in front of her sleeping bag, his stance defensive as he mimicked Momo’s earlier pose from the training session. “I’ll handle it. I’ll use the kido weaving to stop whatever it is in its tracks.”

That got Momo to pause. “Wait, Hitsugaya-kun—I’m not sure if you’re ready.”

He started to chant, slow and steady as the noise picked up. Momo could only focus on her heart racing that she almost missed the slip of incantation: Toushiro had skipped a line—a very crucial line.

“Hitsugaya-kun—you forgot—”

The threads burned amber, casting a bright glow against the surrounding boundary of trees before they began to constrict against themselves. The woven net grew and expanded, closing in around the two of them instead of pushing outward. Toushiro realizing his error, quickly turned around and crouched over Momo as the net imploded into great sparks, rivaling a fireworks show.

The rustling noise got louder and two of them could only look up as the bush rumbled and rustled—before a bunny slipped out. It stared comically at the two of them, cocking its head to the side before hoping through the campgrounds as the two childhood friends watched.

A bubble of laughter escaped from Momo’s mouth which earned her an exasperated look from her friend above her. Toushiro’s hair was mussed with grey soot streaking the spiky edges; he looked like the human confection of a burnt marshmallow—which made Momo laugh even harder.

“This isn’t funny,” he grumbled, swiping away at his face with soot coming off.

“It kind of is,” she continued to laugh. “I’m sure when you get back into your gigai, it’ll go away.”

Whatever previous tension that was there before, disappeared and now there was a lightness as the two young shinigami cleaned up the area. The campfire that had been blazing strong before had calmed down to a dying ember, its small spark still burning bright against the night.

Momo cleared her throat, sheepishly looking down. “Would you mind if we pull these closer?” she gestured towards the distanced sleeping bags.

Toushiro shook his head. “No, not at all.”

After rearranging the bags, the two settled in quietly, lying on their backs and looking up at the stars. Momo sighed in content, feeling a lot more at peace than before but still wanted to clear the air about one more thing.

“Hitsugaya-kun,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you today.”

There was a long pause and she had wondered if he had heard her. “I deserved it. I apologize for not being transparent with you.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “The great Hitsugaya-taicho is apologizing to me?”

“Oh, shut it.” Even though it was dark, she could hear the eyeroll in his voice. “And I’ve done it before,” he added softly.

“I know.” Momo remembered it well, especially after the Winter War. “But those for things that were out of your control. This is for something you deliberately did.”

The young girl heard him sigh deeply. “It’s something I’m working on,” he conceded.

“Rangiku-san put you up to it?”

“Something like that…” he drifted off.

“Well…” Momo tucked the blanket around her tighter her shoulders. “Thank you.”

When he didn’t say anything back, she continued on, speaking softly. “You need to trust me—I understand you’re worried, but you can’t go around making decisions on my behalf without talking to me.” She turned onto her side and faced him. “I can take care of myself, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He sighed. “I know you can—I don’t doubt it at all.”

“Then what makes this different?” Momo whispered.

Toushiro was silent for a while before turning to her. “It’s what we don’t know—everything we’ve been taught feels…upended.” He grimaced & even in the dark she could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “Ukitake-taicho, the Soutaicho…they’re all there now. It feels like the rules have changed and things are out of control.”

Momo smiled sympathetically before reaching a hand across, and gently placing it on his shoulder. “I know. I’m scared too. I’m scared for everyone at the Fifth, for Hirako-taicho, Rangiku-san.” She paused and stared into his eyes. “I’m also scared for you.”

His eyes widened slowly. “Hinamori…”

“But I won’t let that stop me from wanting to protect everyone—to protect you.” She squeezed his shoulder. “That’s why I became a shinigami, right?”

Momo could sense his inner storm abating and smiled in relief. “So—trust me, okay? Like I trust you to stay safe.”

He sighed deeply and stared back at her. “Okay—I will try.”

She chuckled quietly. “That’s all I ask.”

Momo let her hand fall in the space between them. “Now let’s go to sleep. We still have to finish training tomorrow. I can’t send you back not knowing how to do one combination spell.”

“This will definitely be an experience I will never forget,” he said softly.

She smiled, her eyes already closing shut. “Good night, Hitsugaya-kun.”

Sometime during the night, Momo felt her hand being pulled, and held tight. That even if they drifted in dreams under the stars, she was grounded and safe, held tight to home.

---

Authour's Note: Again, this happens late at night because I am a sucker for late night conversations. I had a lot of fun trying to write Momo's teaching methods for the kido (as if I know anything lol) I also just love that something doesn't go splendidly well for Toushiro (though I wish there were more people to witness it hahahaha)

Until next time everyone :)

[pinkhairedlily]

what did you ask for? (to be with you)

A GIFT FOR @canariie | AO3 LINK

Hitsugaya stares at her as if she’s speaking in tongues. He turns his attention back to the more scenic sight, missing the look Hinamori gives him. She’ll describe it as longing, in a much later time when they’re all grown up. Today, as they finish dinner with his grandmother, she’ll break the news. It will be the first time that he'll become uncomfortable with winter. His seasons, previously enjoyed with performative nonchalance, will lose color and comparatively feel dull than any others before.

“Hurry!”

Hinamori can barely keep up with Hitsugaya’s strong, nimble limbs. She might be older (if we assume by height), but their ages might not be too far apart for her to be breathless like this.

It’s the cold, Her exhale immediately gets lost in the curtain of thick fog. She relies on her feet and muscle memory and the numerous indentations left by fellow dwellers to not veer off the trail. At the peak, there is a statue, and while West Rukongai does not necessarily worship, there is a belief that the stones molded into shape will grant your prayers, only that you have to climb it on the first day of snowfall.

Which turned out to be in the negatives today.

And yet, Hitsugaya is conquering the cotton killer fluff with a sleeveless undershirt and blind faith. He is warm where she is cold, and this natural affinity to adapt in harsh conditions stirs a foreign envy in her.

“Slowpoke!” His voice almost a howl. “We need to get back before my afternoon nap!”

“Shut up!” She yells back. It’s her folly, she guesses, to miss the crevice and slip against the crack. It’s a steep fall, her mind registers. I’ll probably die.

Calloused hand thrusts out from the icy veil to grab her wrist, followed by a grin so cheeky it can only be from someone indomitable.

When they reached the top, his sight was first grabbed by the sea of clouds while hers was the statue. It was simply a pile of rocks stacked on top of one another in dubious balance, but it managed to weather the biting wind, as well as the gasping heat and the torrential rains that came seasons before. Hinamori held her head down and prayed to this resilient structure.

“What did you ask for?”

“Be like this statue,” she replies, a bit lost in thought, “despite the changes.”

Hitsugaya stares at her as if she’s speaking in tongues. “You should have asked for a good harvest and lots of watermelons!” He sticks out his tongue in usual childhood annoyance and turns his attention back to the more scenic sight, missing the look Hinamori gives him. She’ll describe it as longing, in a much later time when they’re all grown up.

But today, as they finish dinner with his grandmother, she’ll break the news. “I’m going to Soul Society.”

It will be the first time that Hitsugaya becomes uncomfortable with winter. His seasons, previously enjoyed with performative nonchalance, will lose color and comparatively feel dull than any others before.

When Rangiku, his future lieutenant and his would-be confidante, finally sniffs him out due to his uncontrollable reishi, Hitsugaya sets in plan his destiny in Seireitei. After all, Hinamori wasn’t the only one to make a wish to that statue on that day.

A childhood plea but a sincere intention all the same.

To be together, even for a little longer. Despite the changes.

—--------------------

“Do you have a gift for me, Captain Histugaya?” Rangiku plays up her doe eyes at him.

He closes the file on his desk. “No, I don’t believe in consumerism.”

“Oh come on, it’s Christmas in the human world. You should at least live a little.”

“Said someone who left me with a mountain of administrative tasks to be done. Because of you, I can’t live a little.”

Rangiku claps her hands together and leans towards the door for an unexisting sound. “Yeah? No, I’ll be out in like five seconds tops!” She turns her attention back to him, though one foot is already near the exit. “Captain, I forgot I have a very important appointment to go to. Bye!”

He rolls his eyes, partly annoyed, but mostly relieved he can finally enjoy some moment of silence. Seconds into that serene atmosphere, consecutive knocks arrive at his space.

“Matsumoto—!”

“—Shiro-kun! Oh, did I catch you at a bad time?” Hinamori steps out of the doorframe, her small frame accentuated by the absent Gotei regalia. Her hair, usually held in a low bun, is loose, silky black strands settling just below her shoulders. She wears clothes which his lieutenant might describe as cozy conservative, and carries a wicker basket as if the season outside is the tranquil spring. Against the stark rigidity of his bureaucratic office, she stands in contrast.

“No,” he manages to say. It takes him a minute but he reaches her side, a few inches short below her height, and takes the basket out of her hands. “Is this lunch? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me?”

“Well, Rangiku passed by our division and asked me to give you a lending hand,” she chuckles.

“And you were able to prepare all this food in under ten minutes?”

She shrugs and pretends not to notice the absurd logistics of her excuse, but Hitsugaya lets it pass. It benefits him to not ask questions and simply revel in her presence. 

It’s a spread of all his favorite things, most notably natto and watermelon slices, while she takes out a box of tuna onigiri, freshly baked cookies and green tea. Quintessential Momo.

Like the olden days, they eventually settle into that easy familiarity. With the basket emptied and thermos dried out, Momo pulls out another surprise.

It’s a miniature of the West Rukongai forest inside a glass ball.

“I had it customized.” She beams widely. “Go on, shake it.”

Hitsugaya smirks at the almost childlike gesture but indulges her anyway. Flurries of white envelopes all space, mimicking winter in the place they first called home. A snow globe.

“It’s—” he chokes up, “—it’s all right.”

“You should sound more awed, you know.”

“This is my best effort, Momo.”

He swears he hears Hyourinmaru laugh alongside Hinamori. It takes a lot of effort to stay unaffected even though his heart almost feels like leaping off the very same cliff he once saved her from. He takes several breaths, waiting until the snow settles on the bottom, before he takes out his gift.

“Here.” He pulls out a knitted red scarf from the bag and scoots closer to her. She must have sensed his hesitancy or he might have hallucinated the way she leaned closer to him so he could wrap the scarf around her neck. His fingers linger on both ends of the fabric. “Since you always have a cold bug.”

The scarf’s color bounces off Hinamori’s cheeks. In a quieter voice, “Th-Thanks, Shiro.”

Still holding on, he replies, “It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

“—Hey Toshiro, I’m really sorry! I came back early to help—” 

They scramble away to the farthest corner possible in the short time Rangiku shows up.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” His lieutenant zeroes in on the bright color. “That’s a pretty nice scarf, Momo-chan. It perfectly suits you.” 

Hinamori rushes to the door in haste without glancing at him. “No worries, I was just leaving. I only brought him a meal.” She stops just before the doorframe swallows her. “Thank you, Shiro-kun.”

He can hear the smile in that last word, and ever so deftly, his lieutenant catches it too, even the subtle lift of his lips in cognizance.

“I thought you didn’t believe in consumerism, huh?” Rangiku presses.

“You mentioned helping?”

—--------------------

“This is a character development,” Rangiku brandishes Hitsugaya as if he’s a centerpiece.

“The last time I invited him, he stayed holed up in my room,” Ichigo echoes. “It’s a good thing you could come, Hitsugaya.”

He could only grumble. He hates crowds, but even more so crowds during Christmas. Humans are so obsessed with ephemeral things like celebrations. His displeasure, however, does not dampen their rowdy party: Ichigo, Orihime, Chad, Uryuu, Rukia, Renji. Rangiku, Kira, Shinji, and Hinamori. A mismatched group but still whole, before the world crashes down on them the next few months.

He carefully side-eyes his childhood friend. She looks better, happier even, ever since Shinji arrived. In place of her long hair is a short bob underneath a dark plum beret. She doesn’t wear the scarf he gave ages ago, not after he stabbed her, not after that time when he thought he lost her. The snow globe is tucked in the first drawer of his table. He takes a peek every morning and watches that side of the world stuck in time.

“You’re gonna fall behind.” It’s Hinamori’s voice. They’ve kept their distance, described at best as amicable, recognizing each other’s presence only through a nod of a head, so this is her first direct reference to him with the many layers of conversation peeled back bare.

Hitsugaya freezes on his heels while the rest of the people move forward. Someone ahead of them shouts, spotting a celebrity, and the number triples in seconds. He wants to go to her.

“Captain—” Hinamori resists the surge of movement. “Shiro-kun, what are you doing?” She shoulders her way against bulky figures, but she’s too petite and she stumbles backward to be engulfed by the sea of motions.

His instinct kicks in and he catches her, his grip finding anchor on her waist. He pulls her to the curb where there’s enough space to breathe. “Shinji or Rukia must have noticed our reishi separating from their group. They’ll find us soon.”

He glances at her and finds her unshaken. In the chaos, she lost her beret, and all of her hair is now swaying in the night breeze. “That’s all right.”

“It’s my fault. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No worries. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“To be away from the crowd. It’s more peaceful in this corner.”

Hitsugaya nods. “It’s good that you could come.”

“Ah I was peer-pressured mostly by Renji and Rangiku,” she softly laughs. “Captain Shinji also said it would be nice to go out and have fun.”

He sighs, “Too bad you couldn’t have fun now.”

She lightly shoves him, still laughing against her mittens. “Don’t be silly. I’m having fun now. I’m with you.”

He hears his own sharp intake of breath and his eyes hyperfixate on the minute details of her face, the way her eyes remain on the streets, how the changing lights reflect on her irises, her lips chapped from the cold, the little braid behind her ear. “Momo, you should stop doing that.”

She turns to him slowly, and he realizes how red her cheeks are. “Doing what?” She must be so cold.

“Making my heart—”

“Hey you two!” Ichigo shouts across the street. Beside him is Chad who basically towers over everyone and ultimately serves as their beacon for direction.

 “Oh they found us. You were right, Shiro.” She suddenly scrambles to get to them. 

“Wait for me, Momo.” Hitsugaya grabs her hand just before she ventures into the moving cluster of humans. “I might get lost again.” He sees Shinji catching his act, smirking as he confirms his long thought out theories about the two of them.

He plans to let go of Hinamori before they reach the whole group, but the tower clock suddenly strikes twelve, followed by a clamoring of bells and fireworks. Squeezed against warm bodies, it registers to Hitsugaya and Hinamori that everyone is kissing.

Someone nudges him forward. “Yo dude, you should kiss your date. It’s tradition.”

He’s suddenly weightless, reeled in by some force of gravity. In hindsight, he should’ve let go of Momo, shoved her backwards, or redirected his body as if in battle. But this is human world, and he is riding on some ephemeral happiness, and so he stumbles against her, shoulder to shoulder, and his lips graze her cheek.

He waits for a slap, a reprimand, but Hinamori looks out of breath as well. He loosens his grip, gives her an out if she wants to, but it’s her fingers that wrap against his this time.

“They’re looking for us.”

“Momo.”

“Hmm?”

“I— Someone pushed me—”

“I know. I saw.”

“Huh?

“I saw it, Shiro-kun,” she smiles, “so please don’t say sorry.” 

She saw, Hitsugaya thought, which meant she had every chance to move. “Huh?” This won’t be the last time he’ll be out of words in front of her.

“Merry Christmas, Captain Hitsugaya.” Then she lets go of his hand.

—--------------------

“Humans are sure fond of merrymaking.”

They find themselves in the same place many years after, when the worst was finally over and the aftermath of the battles have become simply a memory, navigating the maps of human bodies and still finding a place beside each other. Hinamori thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle—to come out of the wreckage and remain unchanged (in whatever this is, she adds in her head).

They decided, on a whim, to visit the human world. Spontaneity is a foreign concept, both of them so used to rigidity of routines and structures, but somehow there has always been an exception in moments where it concerns the other. The group they went with before is leading their separate lives. They are busy making memories and seizing the present, heightened from the cusp of losing the privilege of existing. 

It is this sentiment that they are riding tonight—the possibility of missing a chance—though this, they may never admit out loud.

“Are you regretting it now, Shiro-kun?”

“The crowd, yes,” he replies in all honesty, brows furrowed, lips in a tight line. Then he glances at her and everything softens with a rare smile. “That doesn’t include you.”

“Good, I really wanted to see the fireworks,” she reasons.

“Haven’t Shinji taken you several times?”

“They’re always different. They change colors, sometimes they have patterns too.”

He chuckles beside her, and something behind him catches her attention. Stragglers hang thin strips of paper with their handwriting on the bare branches of a large tree. Hinamori tugs on Hitsugaya’s sleeve, and he catches her off guard by holding her hand and pulling her to the activity area.

“I might lose you,” he says under his breath. (Did you know, Momo, it was the same words he uttered when he faced Aizen and when he battled without Hyourinmaru? He could never lose you.)

She looks at the writings holding the people’s many wishes into the universe for the coming year. Human lives are short compared to those like them who could live out centuries. The intentions varied from simple (‘I want a boyfriend!’) to more complex ones (‘I want to be finally happy’). Hinamori considers how happiness is subjective across souls, and how, right at this moment, she could describe herself as happy.

“What are you writing?” Hitsugaya asks her. “I already put mine up.”

“Huh?” She surveys the papers in front of them. “That’s unfair, I didn’t get to see it.”

“I don’t think you need to see it.” He turns a shade of red. “It’s personal.”

She relents with a sigh. “You probably wrote longer nap times.” She turns her back on him as she quickly scribbles the first thought that comes. Hitsugaya tries to appear uninterested but she can see him in her periphery stealing glances over her shoulder. It’s a good thing that she remains taller than him.

“Ha! Done!”

“Well, that’s unfair,” he echoes.

Their banter gets interrupted by a loud trumpet, followed by a clock ticking down to midnight.

“Oh, it’s happening!”

The lights on the ground turn off to emphasize the dark night sky. 

“Ten…night…eight…seven…”

Hitsugaya chooses to set his gaze on her. “Did you remember that tradition..?”

“Six…five…four…”

“Yeah, I remember.” Hinamori tears her eyes from the sky and stares back at him against the darkness.

“Two…one… Happy New Year!”

“Can I kiss you?”

She sees Hitsugaya’s face lean in just as the fireworks start their ephemeral performance. The air is crisp with winter air and firecracker smoke, and she’s combusting when his lips find hers underneath the bursts of light.

He pulls away in mere seconds, and she can see the gears of his mind work towards an overdrive. He is second guessing and wondering if it was enough, if he could ever be enough, and she wants to tell him—

“Yes.” And she pulls him to her again and kisses him back with certainty. When it’s all over, the people have scattered, the sky has retreated to its shadows, and she’s still in his arms.

“Happy New Year, Momo.”

—--------------------

Hinamori finds it’s the afterparty she looks forward to the most. Long after all the plates have been washed, the cups flipped to dry, and the doors locked, the silence basks in the traces left from the evening’s friendly noise.

They managed to clear majority of the clutter, but strips and pieces of litter remain scattered about—ribbons, gift wraps, firecracker ashes—a nice chore best reserved for the first day of the new year.

“Our dear hostess must be tired.” Hitsugaya’s hands ease on her shoulders and massage the tight knots that have accumulated over the day. 

“Come on Shiro. I know the kids drained your energy today.” She stifles the bubbling laughter from a recent memory of when Renji’s and Ichigo’s respective toddlers ran amok across the courtyard and Hitsugaya had to chase them off his rock installations.

“They’re not toddlers.”

“And they’re also still kids.”

The winter breeze lands on her skin and she shivers at the contact. Her husband pulls her to the kotatsu, entangling her legs with his underneath, a fairly good excuse to just snuggle and burrow and pretend to hibernate (at least until the weekend’s over).

They’re sitting across the wide windows where they’re afforded a rare view of a perfect night sky, a blank charcoal slate after being painted with bursts of colors from earlier festivities. The moon and stars are cruising in a silent voyage to an audience of two. 

Well, three.

Hotaru manages to crawl on Hitsugaya’s lap and juts out his nose for a boop. He brings with him Hinamori’s red scarf, frayed from several wears, and is now his favorite blanket. She reaches over and indulges their blind, snow-colored cat. Seemingly happy, his paws start making biscuits while his purrs lull them into a much awaited slumber.

Soon enough, the heavens open up to a muted shower of snow. It is a familiar sight, a nostalgic picture of their childhood home, a picture contained in a glass globe from a long ago gift.

Hinamori almost falls asleep with her head on his shoulder, but her eyes quickly catch the stroke of bright light across the sky.

“Momo, make a wish,” Hitsugaya whispers against her hair.

A moment passes. “Done.”

“So, what did you wish for?”

She looks at him, baffled. “You always ask for that!”

“I can’t help it if I’m curious.”

“No.”

He changes tactics. “Okay, I’ll offer you an olive branch. One wish of mine to one of yours.”

“That’s unfair. I always wish for the same thing.”

“Since when?”

“Since we went on that mountain.” Hinamori considers the length of time she knows him, the gravity of memories and circumstance, and the very privilege of having that prayer answered. “I asked for the very same thing I’m wishing for right now.”

She sees how he recalls the moment, watches how the playfulness of his features soften into that of understanding and gratefulness. It had been that long.

“To let us stay in each other’s lives, not for a while, but longer, maybe forever-kind-of-long.”

To be together, even for a little longer. Despite the changes.

“Hmm.” He smiles and then chuckles. “Did you know I asked whatever god there was that day to let me stay with you? It was selfish and unreasonable, especially knowing you really wanted to go. After you left, it sought out many other mountains. I looked for the rest of the shrines, all the genuine and the makeshift, and prayed the same prayer. It turned out I managed to get through to at least one god.”

She could only stare in disbelief. “Wow.”

“What—you never thought I had it in me?”

She shakes her head and laughs. “You were always so tenacious, Shiro.”

“We have this year.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on her lips. “And the next and next and next and next.”

“And the rest of our lives.”

@hitsuhina-week

[hitsuhina-week]

Hitsuhina Gift Exchange - Planning

Hi everyone,

I'm thinking of hosting a gift exchange on a weekend in December (a poll will be released shortly with the dates to vote on).

It'd be the same as previous years, with no allocated theme and everyone who participates will be randomly allocated to someone to create a gift for based on what the person has requested.

If you're interested in participating, please respond to this post either by reblogging or commenting your interest by Friday November 17.

If I can get at least four people interested in participating, I can host the event. By the time this gets posted, I'll be on my break, but when I return in late November, I'll get planning!

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Horizons

Hitsuhina Gift Exchange 2022

Prompt: a song inspired creation

Rating: K+/General with some mature themes and mentions of violence/blood

Setting: A few days after the end of the TYBW arc, but there are flashbacks, two set before the main story, one between the end of the Fake Karakura Town and the beginning of the Lost Agent arcs. Basically, any scenes in italics are set in the past.

Synopsis: During the first days of reconstruction, Hitsugaya and Hinamori decide to visit the Junrinan. Along the way, Hitsugaya comes to realisation.

AN: @rainfestive, thank you for this prompt! I must admit, I had the basic idea for this fic before the gift exchange, but this prompt got me listening to music, and several songs helped inspire the completed story. The main songs that provided inspiration were I Was Born for This by Austin Wintory, Catharsis by Vishal Naidu & Dan Caine, and My Universe by Coldplay x BTS. The other songs included: She Lit a Fire by Lord Huron, compassion from the BLEACH ost, Snowfield from the Clannad ost, and going home from the BLEACH ost.

I wanted create a fic that conveyed the same softness that your fanart does, and I’ve hopefully succeeded in doing that (well, this fic actually has a pretty angsty start, but it does get fluffy I promise!). In a way, this is a spiritual prequel to It’s Been a While, but honestly, this was meant to be it’s own thing, so feel free to consider the two stories linked or not. Also:

I know it’s stated that the Seireitei needed reconstruction after the Quincy War, but there’s nothing concrete about whether the Rukongai was also badly damaged or not. However, for the sake of this story, sections of it were and need to be reconstructed.

A kokeshi doll is a traditional Japanese toy. The Rukongai seems to have traditional Japanese toys (like spinning tops, which Toshiro used to play with), so I figured they likely have this kind of toy there too.

Hasukappu is the Japanese name given to blue honeysuckle.

Also, I may or may not have been inspired by @canariie's fic trepidation at one point (for those who have read it, you’ll know it when you see it).

I hope you, Rain, and everyone else enjoy this!

__________________________________

Toshiro doesn’t flinch at the blast of freezing wind. The bare branches above and below him rattle, and the first snow falls from the dark grey clouds over the Junrinan in erratic spirals.

Only a few souls wonder the streets and alleyways of the first district, keeping their heads low and wearing multiple layers against the wind. Most souls can’t withstand the cold at this time of the day, with most choosing to stay indoors around a fire. The orange glow emitting from within most houses is bright against the still dark morning.

He again wonders what the lives of those inside is like. Are they still asleep or waking up? Do they all sit around the fire as they eat breakfast? Did they have anything they worked towards? Did any of them feel alone or different from the rest?

He shakes his head; the train of thought is useless to follow.

As the dawn mist gradually thins, he gets a better view of the whole Junrinan and the second district. A slice of the sunrise manages to peak through the clouds and he raises his hand to shade his eyes. Some of the houses in its way are bathed in a yellow-pink glow and the snow on their roofs glimmers.

Below, a soul treads into the light's path cast over one of the Junrinan's main streets. A girl, from what Toshiro can tell, wrapped up in a blanket that almost touches the ground. She avoids the growing piles of snow gathering on the sides of the road and her breaths fog in the air. Her strides are purposeful, enough to go against the harsh wind and cold. Why would she be out at this time? Was she going to go into the forests and find some firewood? Or food? She wouldn't need the main road for either of those things. She could be a new soul, left to her own devices to find a place to stay.

Toshiro shakes his head again; another useless train of thought.

At the growing tension in his chest, he begins to climb down the tree. He tells himself it’s because he needs to get back to Granny, she’d be awake soon. If he were honest with himself, it was because if the girl were to look to her right, there’s a good chance she’d spot him, and possibility of that makes him uncomfortable.

___________________________________

The kokeshi doll rolls away from Toshiro’s foot. He watches it tumble over chips of debris until it bounces off the ruins of the house it likely belonged to. Unlike many of the buildings surrounding it, this one still had most of its roof intact. One of its walls was obliterated, lying in chunks splayed out across the ground, with various broken and torn housewares scattered amongst remains.

Toshiro steps over the wreckage and stays bent over after he picks up the toy, shading it from the late afternoon sun. Paint had scratched off in various places and there’s a small chunk gone from the top of the head, but it’s otherwise remarkably in good condition compared to the other objects scattered about.

He hears Rangiku’s footsteps coming towards him before she calls out. “Captain, we have an update on assessment for the thirteenth district!”

Toshiro rises as his lieutenant nears. “Go on.”

It’s like almost every other report he’s received: buildings completely leveled or caved in, some souls have injuries being tended to by the squadron sent by Fourth Division, but thankfully no casualties for this one. He can’t say the same for this district.

As Rangiku continues to give the details, his gaze involuntarily wonders to the souls a short distance over her shoulder. There’s about twenty of them all underneath a temporary shelter, all in various states of disarray. They’d been given fresh clothes, and behind them, some of his unseated officers are preparing food rations. They watch as the Shinigami comb through the remains of their homes, and the only thing stopping them from joining in are the seated officers keeping them from interfering in the assessment. A few officers remain silent, the rest are trying to offer comfort or reassurances, but they’re falling on deaf ears.

Toshiro’s brow furrows deeper when he spots a young boy, his dark hair in whipped in all directions and wearing a clean yukata. The boy had been staring at him with widened eyes. At being caught, his shoulders rise and he’s quick to shift his gaze to the ruined house the doll belonged to. At his crumbling expression, Toshiro knows this was once his home, and the toy is his.

It's not the first time he has seen that kind of expression in the last week, nor will it be the last. All the lives of the souls here are forever changed, and he doesn’t blame the resentment he sees in some of them. He’d been up at the Palace, had tried to stop as much debris as he could from falling on to the Soul Society, but he couldn't stop all of it.

“Sir?”

Toshiro blinks and is quick to bring his attention back to Rangiku. “Thank you for the update, Matsumoto. Send…No, ask the assessment team to return to here and help with distributing resources. When you’ve done that, bring back whatever written reports you’ve completed to here. We'll finish for the day after the food rations have been given out.” When Rangiku doesn’t leave, he fully turns to her. “Was there anything else?”

Perhaps she’s caught off guard by the way he speaks; in other circumstances he’d be more relaxed with his tone and his choice of words, but it didn’t feel right to be anything other than direct and authoritative right now.

“Captain…” Rangiku purses her lips. It’s only then he notices how frazzled her hair is, it’s so out of character for her. But then, it was hard to be one’s self in the aftermath of something this destructive. Toshiro waits, and it’s a moment later when whatever hesitation she has disappears.

“Everything’s been set up here," she says. "After the assessment team comes back, we’ll have enough to keep things under control.”

“What are you getting at?”

“You should take a break. You’ve been up since dawn and haven’t stopped once all day, or even all of yesterday for that matter.”

He half expected her concern - the bags under his eyes become more apparent each day – and she hadn’t been the only one. Some of his seated officer, though they tried to hide it, showed their concern yesterday and this morning. It came out in the small smiles they give him and the over enthusiasm they have to some tasks he assigns, as if to assure him they are more than capable and that he can rest easy. But he sees the way their shoulders weigh down, the hardness or sorrow in their eyes when they think he isn’t looking. “I’ll rest once all the assessments are completed.”

She glances at the doll in his hand. Something about it makes her sigh. “You always tell others to know their limits, but never yourself.”

“I know my limits,” he responds curtly. “You don’t have to --”

“Yo, Captain Hitsugaya!”

Both swerve in the direction of Shinji’s call. Several officers from the Fifth Division approach, and in the middle of them are their captain and Momo. The latter doesn’t notice either of them, too preoccupied with giving instructions to her surrounding subordinates, but the former waves at them.

Toshiro tucks the doll away into his sleeve. “What’s he doing here?” he wonders under his breath.

With their impending argument interrupted, Rangiku smiles. “They have jurisdiction for the district next door. They might just be passing by.”

Whatever Momo instructed her subordinates to do, half march off down a nearby alleyway while the others remain. It’s then she spots them and gestures for her officers to wait.

“Afternoon you two,” Shinji greets.

Momo comes over to them, but unlike Shinji, her grin doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hello Rangiku-san, Hitsug – I mean, Captain Hitsugaya.”

Toshiro would voice his surprise that she actually called him by his title, but this isn’t the time or place. “Doing assessment for the west ninth district I assume?” he asks Shinji.

“Just finished it actually.”

“Then are you here to discuss the proposal for repairs in north districts twenty through to twenty-five?”

Shinji’s grin wobbles and he raises a brow. “Geez, ain’t that a bit early? Pretty sure Head Captain said we didn’t need to get to work on that until two months in at the latest. Are you ahead of schedule already?”

“No, just planning.”

“Well, regardless, we ain’t here for that. We’re actually on our way back to the Seireitei to write up assessment reports for districts nine and ten. However, I think Hinamori and I are feeling a little generous and have some time to spare. Did you guys need any help here?”

“We were going to offer help regardless,” Momo quickly adds.

Toshiro folds his arms. “Thank you for the offer, but we don’t need-”

“I think we’ll take you up on that!”

For the first time since returning from the Palace, Toshiro breaks the authoritative air he’d been putting on, blinking up at his lieutenant in bewilderment. “Matsumoto?”

Rangiku keeps going as if she hadn’t noticed the change in his demeanor. “See, I need to go get the assessment team from the thirteenth district and also pick up some reports, and the Captain needs to take a break.”

“Wha? I don’t-”

“Everything here is mostly set up, and we’d ask our third seat to watch over things, but he’s with the assessment team. So, we just need someone to watch over our officers while we’re both away.”

“We need no such thing!” Toshiro looks to his fellow captain. “I don’t need a break, Matsumoto is speaking out of turn.”

Rangiku gives an indignant huff while Shinji lists his head to the side. “Well, when was the last time you took a break?” he asks.

“It’s not necessary, I can still oversee things here. As is, I assume you’ll need to write up those reports as soon as you get back, so don’t let us keep you.”

Shinji’s eyes narrow, but before he can speak up, Momo steps forward. “A-Actually, Captain, weren’t you saying we should take a break before we start on those reports? I was going to ask if I could walk to the Junrinan. I know it’s not one of the damaged districts, but there’s some friends I need to visit.”

Shinji blinks at his lieutenant’s interruption, but with the rising tension diffused, he nods. “Fine by me, just make sure you’re back in an hour for the reports.”

“Of course.” Then to Toshiro, with a renewed, softer smile. “Perhaps you’d like to join me, Captain Hitsugaya? I know you feel responsible for what’s happening here, but there’s someone you’ve wanted to see, right?”

Likely unintentionally, her words make guilt flare up in him. He’d wanted to go see Granny as soon as he’d arrived back in the Seireitei. What had become of the Junrinan? Was she all right? He’d sprint to there if he could, but duty bound him to the Seireitei. He barely contained his relief when he heard in the report the next day it was one of fifteen higher level districts that hadn’t been damaged during the war. He couldn’t visit her until the assessment is completed, but it didn’t stop the urge to drop everything and visit her.

“Can imagine you’d have friends you wanna see, yeah?” Shinji remarks. “I’ve told my subordinates to take their breaks to go visit anyone they need to in the Rukongai, and I’m sure you’ve told others to do the same in your division.” He shrugs. “I reckon us captains can grant ourselves the same if things are under control in our jurisdictions, and you’ve clearly got that going on here.”

“Hirako…”

“Besides, I owe you for saving Hinamori and I back up at the Palace. She told me about what happened after I got knocked out.”

He glances at his childhood friend, who gives a rueful roll of her eyes and a shrug.

“I didn’t just enter that battle to save you two,” he clarifies.

“I know, but regardless, you saved us from being crushed by that giant. So, least I can do is help you out a little while we’ve still got the time to.”

“That’s actually a good point,” Rangiku adds. “This’ll be the best opportunity you have. You know that once we get into the repairs, we’ll have even less free time.”

Toshiro isn’t sure what he hates more: that he’s made others worry or that his resolve is waning. He wants to argue back, but then Momo fixes him with that gaze – the one that’s half pleading and half concerned – and he’s useless to dismiss it.

He unfolds his arms with a huff. “Fine, I’ll only be gone for an hour.” Rangiku gasps with a grin, but he stops her from saying anything with a sharp gaze. “If anything happens, you send a Hell Butterfly right away. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

Shinji’s own grin returns. “Well, it’s settled. I’ll stick around here until Matsumoto returns, then head back to Fifth. Take good care of my lieutenant, yeah? She's been working a lot lately."

Momo shakes her head, exasperated. "Honestly, sir."

Toshiro rolls his eyes. "She's capable of doing that herself."

With a chuckle, Shinji jerks his chin at Rangiku as he half turns away. “Mind giving me an overview of what’s going on here before you run off?”

Rangiku nods and joins him as he returns to his waiting officers.

Toshiro watches them go, but his attention is drawn away when Momo comes to his side. It’s just the two of them now, and the thought makes him nervous for some reason.

“Shall we go, Hitsugaya-kun?” she asks.

“Already dropping the title, are we?” he half grumbles.

“Sorry, force of habit.”

“You don’t look one bit sorry.” With a sigh, he goes to lead the way. “I guess the quickest route would be…”

A jostle in his sleeve stops him. Without thinking, he sticks his hand into his uniform. How had he forgotten about it?

Momo tilts her head when he faces the group of souls under the shelter. “What’s wrong?”

The child stares at them, had probably watched the entire exchange from before. He bites his lip at being caught a second time.

No, they can’t leave just yet. He hates to ask her to do anything for him, but this is better suited for someone like her.

Toshiro digs his hand into his sleeve. “I was going to ask Matsumoto to do this before she left, but I may need you to do it instead.”

Momo raises both brows; it’s a rare occurrence for him to ask her for anything. “What is it?”

Toshiro holds out the doll. “Can you give this to him?” he requests, tipping his head at the boy. “I think it’s his.”

She glances at the child, then at the remains of his house over her shoulder. “Why don’t you do it?”

“It’d be better coming from you.”

Her hand hovers over his for several beats, but she surprises him when she rolls his fingers over the doll. “You’re the one who found it, you should give it back to him.”

Why? The question must show on his face, because she lets out a weak chuckle. “It’ll be okay.”

She doesn’t elaborate further, but they need to get a move on, and he won’t push her to do this. Taking a deep inhale in, he approaches the crowd, and slows his steps once he’s within a few meters of the boy. The child is trying to decide whether to cower away or stand his ground as he approaches.

To calm him, Toshiro holds the doll out before he comes to a stop. “I’m guessing this is yours.”

As if expecting this to be a trick, the boy hesitates. A woman comes up behind the child and rests a protective hand on his shoulder while bowing.

“I’m sorry about my son, Captain,” she says, her voice on the brink of quivering. “He didn’t mean to stare.”

Toshiro shakes his head and gestures for her to rise. “It’s fine.”

Reassured by his mother’s presence, the boy takes the toy back. The moment he touches it, his anxiety starts to ease. He examines the faults in it, seemingly forgetting a high-ranking Shinigami stands before him. He fingers the dent in the top, and fights a disappointed frown from forming. Something about it tugs at Toshiro, and squats down to the child’s height, capturing his gaze once more.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stop this,” he says. “It will be a long time before you have a house again, but we're working to make sure it'll be sooner rather than later." He points to the toy. "Hang on to that in the meantime, don’t let it go. There will come a day when you can get others to join it.”

Heat rises up the back of his neck as he senses the eyes of all the residents on him. Most are surprised, others are skeptical. To have a Shinigami admit fault and apologise is a rare thing; they’re viewed as too prideful or out of touch or secretive to do such a thing by most district residents. If only they knew what they’d been like when the Quincy invaded, the fear and determination his officers showed. For a moment, Toshiro allows the thought to roam in his mind before he banishes it.

He stands and gives a bow with his head. “If any of you need basic supplies, my officers will assist.”

He tries to turn and stride as naturally as he can back to Momo, resisting the urge to spin on his heel and rush down the forest path they’re going to take to the Junrinan. A new wave of heat rushes up to his cheeks, but this time it’s because of the tender smile Momo gives him when he approaches.

___________________________________

Toshiro scowls at the cracked rooftiles next to his foot. A few pieces had dislodged, revealing the wooden rafters beneath. “Going to have to replace those,” he mutters. “How long have they been like that?”

He stares at them for several heartbeats before going a few feet further up the roof. Once he reaches the top, he sits on ridge, takes in a long breath, and leans back with closed eyes. It’s the first moment of quiet he’s had in a whole month.

However, as if to remind him of where he should really be, the wind lifts up the ends of his haori behind him. Opening his eyes, he rests his elbows on his knees and picks at the new addition to his uniform. Despite being a relatively light garment, it still feels heavy to wear. He never considered himself to be the type to indulge in metaphors or analogies, but there might be something to say for the weight of the job weighing down on ones shoulders. With a sigh, he lifts his gaze.

He’s not sure where his inclination to go to high places came from, nor does he understand why he continues to make it a habit. Somehow, it felt right to climb tree and sit in their branches as a child, and then to perch himself on his old home’s rooftop. The latter he can chalk up to feeling protective of Granny, believing that having a vantage point to see everyone and everything ensured he could warn her of anything; but the former, he still can't figure out why he did it. A part of him always wanted to watch over everything, and being above everything somehow felt right. The tallest height he'd gotten to was in a tree in the Jurinan forests, and it allowed him to see all the way to the tenth district.

Now, he’s on the tallest building in the Tenth Division, and it gives him a view of the Seireitei all the way to the Eastern Gate. There was a time where he was on the other side of that gate, and the Seiretei was just a part of the horizon he looked out towards. It strange to think he has ended up on the other side, and to feel less lonely than he was when he was outside of it.

He distracts himself from the thought by watching the Shinigami out and about. Most are on the ground, weaving their way between buildings, not in any rush to get where they need to. Some have stopped in courtyards and gardens, gathering in groups for training or lunch. Not too far away, the instructions of his third seat reach his ears, his voice coming from one of the dojos.

Others are on the balconies and verandas, coming and going, but he doubles back when he spots Momo and Aizen. They’re two small figures in the distance, but he can make out that they're walking on the second floor balcony of Ninth Division’s main barracks, talking about something that makes Momo smile.

Toshiro rolls his eyes. Even from all the way up here, her feelings towards her captain are obvious, and Aizen is probably too polite to bring it up. He finds himself lingering on that thought, but he doesn’t understand why he’d care.

She’s his oldest friend, and he cares about her wellbeing. That’s as far as it went.

He shakes his head, shoving the thought aside. As is, in this new role, he’ll see her even less, and he tries to ignore the tiny pang at the thought. He’s never known how to keep friends, and when Momo found a goal all those decades ago, they’d drifted apart. Now that they each have a goal, it won’t surprise him if they drift even further.

_________________________________________

“Hasukappu grows here?”

Toshiro says nothing as Momo fawns over the vegetation. They’d been walking on the path through the undergrowth for a few minutes when she spotted the hasukappu plants. It’s the happiest he’s seen her since they got back to the Seireitei, and he fears speaking up will break it.

“For some reason, I always thought it was just in the south and north districts. I could make a jam out of these!” Momo goes to pick one of the dark blue fruits but stops. “Ah, maybe not, actually. The locals probably come to harvest these, right? Like we used to in the Junrinan.”

He gestures to the several shrubs chock full of the fruit. “Likely, but it won’t hurt if you pick some, there will be plenty left. Besides, these look they’ve just been growing in the wild, and the animals probably eat them too.”

Momo looks up and down the uneven line of shrubbery. Eventually, she plucks one off a stem. “Maybe just fifteen of them. It probably won’t be enough to make jam, but maybe some candies.”

He watches her pick the fruit off the shrubs and piles them into cloth bag she kept in her uniform, and it occurs to him that with the exception of the rustling of the branches and leaves from the occasional gust wind, it’s quiet. Life is vibrant here, from the lush green grass lined on either side of the dirt path to the small animals that scurry or fly away when they hear them coming. The greenery around them hadn’t been touched by the war, as if frozen in time.

However, it’s in quiet moments like this – mostly before he’s about to go to sleep - that his mind buzzes with everything he hasn’t yet done. Did he truly have the right to be here in the peaceful quiet while the souls in the Rukongai were waiting for their homes to be rebuilt?

“There, that should do it.” Momo tucks the cloth bag back into her uniform. She starts walking again without looking back at him. “The Junrinan is twenty minutes from here, right?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Toshiro follows her. “Yes.”

He stays behind her as they head up an incline. Her gait is not what it used to be; in the months after her recovery at Fourth Division, she’s had a more subdued walk, the weight of everything weighing her down. In the few months before the Quincy invasion, she walked as if lighter than air, like how she used to before Aizen’s betrayal. Now, there’s a heaviness in each step, but her shoulders are high, determined.

It begs him to ask, “How have you been?”

Momo looks over at him. “As well as I can be. It’s been busy, of course. We’ve completed assessment for half of the districts under our jurisdiction. We’ve been lucky most have more injured than dead, but even so…” She sighs. “The truth is I haven’t had moments rest myself until now.”

 “Dummy!”

“I could say the same for you, couldn’t I?” It’s not an accusation, but an almost resigned fact she knew all too well about him. At his rueful silence, she gives him an uneasy smile. “We have to do so much right now, but we haven’t had the time to do it all. Captain Hirako makes sure everyone has something to do, that we all carry the load of everything. I’m sure you’re the same, but you…you also tend to take on too much, Hitsugaya-kun.”

“It’s because I can.”

The corners of her lips fall. “I think everyone’s struggling to rest right now. We need to put these repairs first, of course, but we also need to take time to rest.” She turns to look ahead “Hopefully things will quiet down soon.”

They both know that is a pipedream. It’s already been estimated the reconstruction of the Rukongai will take over three years to complete, and the Seireitei’s even longer.

This was a bad idea. She did this to him, made him lower whatever walls he builds and rethink what his priorities should be. What should he focus on first? The living or the dead? The survivors or the officers who gave their lives? He’d almost lost count of how many had been cremated or buried, but he has that number clear in his mind every time he gets ready for the day.

There’s a low swaying branch in their way. She holds it aside for Toshiro as she asks, “What about you, Hitsugaya-kun? Have you not been sleeping well?”

He almost touches the bags under his eyes. “I’ve been sleeping enough. Something just woke me up last night.”

“What was it?”

“A dream.”

“Do remember what it was about?”

“…Not really.”

It only comes to him in bits and pieces, but his dreams of when he wasn’t in control of his body shake him to the core every time. Glimpses of Yumichika and Ikkaku come, and the voice of the Quincy who had forced her blood into him echoes in each. He needn’t burden Momo or anyone else with those dreams, everyone has enough on their minds as is.

Realising he isn’t going to elaborate; Momo drops the subject. “What about progress with damage assessment?”

“We have five districts left to assess, then reconstruction will begin next week.”

“So you are ahead of schedule!”

 “Only by a day.”

“It’s still amazing progress.”

They trek down a short incline, which flattens out to the banks for a creek. The path continues on the other side.

“Is there a way across?” Momo asks, taking a wary step towards the stream.

“It’s normally okay to jump over it, the water is running quicker than I remember.”

“It might be because of the rain from yesterday. There was a lot, more than Twelfth predicted.” She says something under her breath, but Toshiro can make out, “You could’ve probably gauged it better.”

Rather than shown he heard her, Toshiro assesses, looking from one end of the creek to the other. “There.” He points to a section several feet away, the two sides closer than any other party near them.

“When was the last time you were here?” she asks as they make their way.

It takes him a moment to recall. “When I’d been promoted to seventh seat.”

“For a mission, I’m guessing?”

“Investigating Hollow activity in the region.”

Those seem like simpler times now, quaint even. He’d known Hollows attacks, had seen a few fellow Shinigami die to them. For some reason, he didn’t think he’d go on to see much more death or destruction in his life.

“That would’ve been about thirty years ago,” Momo muses. “It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. Time really flew by, huh?”

When they reach the edge of the creek, Toshiro holds up a hand before Momo can make a move. “I’ll go first.”

She gives a bemused chuckle. At his deepening frown, she explains, “This reminds me of what you used to do when we were children. Whenever we’d have to cross a gap, you always insisted on going first.”

He lets out a wordless grumble as he recalls those moments. “I was always the better jumper, and you always got nervous about making big jumps. In case you fell, someone had to be on the other side.”

She gives him a mock offended 'humph'. “And you think that’ll be the case here too?”

Toshiro goes to argue back, but an idea comes to him. Without warning, he whips away from her and runs for the creek before leaping over the water. When he lands in a crouch on the other side, he smirks at her while he rises. “Prove otherwise.”

Momo’s surprise gives way to a haughty smirk. Playfully, she sets up to run, stretching one leg behind her and raising her arms to her sides. His smirk widens, and an amused chuckle almost makes it to his lips. More than that though, he can’t help his protective instincts. He’s ready to dash forward and catch her in case she slips. Without thinking, he moves closer to his side’s edge and even raises his hand for her to grab on to.

She shakes her head. “No need.”

And with that, she runs to the creek. With a small cry of exertion, she leaps over the water. Her arms cartwheel through the air, and her hair flies behind her. She goes higher than he did, her feet well and truly avoiding the water, even the small droplets that splash up from hitting any rocks in the water’s way.

He stumbles back, almost losing his footing as he tries to give her space. She lands on her feet with a loud ‘thump’, half crouched and hands raised in front of her. She doesn’t move from her exaggerated pose, looking as if she were about to sit back into a chair.

They snort at the same time. They look at each other, surprised that the other reacted. Then, as if a flood gate opened, they laugh. Momo almost doubles over, straightening enough to rest her hands on her knees, while Toshiro smacks a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to cover up his laughter.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I don’t know!” she chortles. “I think I got competitive and tried to jump higher than you!”

“That wasn’t the point!”

“But I did it! Both landing and getting higher than you!”

By the time their laughter dies down, his stomach aches. When was the last time he’d laughed so hard, and why over something so silly and small? Maybe he was losing his mind, but if that were the case, at least he isn’t the only one.

They smile at each other while they try to catch their breath. Aside from the one she gave him before they started their trek, it’s the most genuine smiles he’s seen from her in a while, and for a moment he allows himself to be deluded with the idea that just as she can lower his internal walls, he can do the same for her too. In this moment she isn’t the dutiful, hard-working lieutenant, but the girl who always dragged him out on adventures and got easily riled up.

But that silence creeps back in, making his smile fall. What was he doing? He couldn’t be like this, not when he had houses and the Seireitei to rebuild, the dead to bury and mourn for. At her faltering smile, he knows she thinks the same, and he wishes it wasn’t the case. After everything she went through, guilt should be the last thing she suffers from.

He takes a few tentative strides back towards where the path resumes. “Let’s keep going, it’ll be dark soon.”

When he doesn’t hear her follow, he looks over his shoulder. Her head bowed, it’s clear she’s lost in thought. With a bit more authority in his voice, he says, “Come on, Hinamori.”

She flinches and raises her head. “Sorry, it’s just…” His heart aches at her sad smile. “I think this and before with the hasukappu, they’re both the first time in a while that I haven’t discussed or thought about the reconstruction efforts. I know it was my idea to go visit Obaa-san and the others, but I just wanted to check on them. I didn’t think I’d get distracted from everything that’s happening.”

She’s on the edge of an unnecessary apology, and he chooses to nip it in the bud. “I know. We’re only fifteen minutes away, so let’s keep going.”

She gives a shallow nod and joins him.

This really had been a bad idea.

_________________________________________

“I figured you’d be somewhere like here.”

Toshiro almost drops his denreishikai and whips his head over his shoulder.

Isshin stands only a few meters away, his hands in his pockets. Mercifully, if he noticed Toshiro’s near fumble, he doesn’t show it. At the same time however, he half wishes he could punch the smirk off his former captain’s face. However, he’s rendered speechless, and none of the many questions he had always wanted to ask him come to mind now. He suddenly understands what humans meant when they see ‘a ghost from the past’.

“Matsumoto said you were in the area,” Isshin explains. “I bumped into her this morning.”

It might explain why she and Orihime hadn’t returned before Toshiro decided to take a walk an hour ago. He calms with a low exhale. “What the heck are you doing here?”

Isshin’s smirk drops a fraction, and he walks over to him. Toshiro can imagine the question could be taken in more than one way, but Isshin chooses to go for the most obvious one. “I wasn’t out looking for you, just decided to go for a walk.” He steps over the road guard, but keeps a meter distance between them. “I forgot to ask Matsumoto how long you’ve been here.”

Toshiro glares at his denreishinkai. “Is that really any of your concern anymore?”

What’s left of Isshin’s smirk vanishes. “I may not be a captain anymore, but can I can still sense Hollows. There’s been a bit more than usual since Aizen’s defeat from what I can tell. Kuchiki Rukia’s replacement can only do so much, I guess.”

It was strange to hear Isshin discuss Shinigami business when he no longer is one. It’s even stranger to see him up close after all these decades. Toshiro closes his phone. “We’re only here for today, and leaving tonight.”

In the silence, Isshin does nothing except shift his gaze ahead, while Toshiro can’t lift his own from the ground. It’s not the first time he and Rangiku have seen their old captain; during their first time in Karakura Town, they’d spotted him from afar as he walked out of his clinic, but neither of them chose to interact. He and Rangiku reasoned this new life of his had been his choice, but it didn't stop the question he wanted to ask itching to get answered. Perhaps, though, it had also been in part because neither wanted to confront him in a situation like this. What’s he supposed to do?

A part of him wants to run away, to pretend this encounter never happened. But he stays, paralyzed by…obligation. A fragment of his days as a third seat while serving under the man next to him.

Isshin leans against the road guard. “It’s a nice view, huh?”

The view in question was of the west of Karakura Town, bathed in the orange light of the sunset. On the street below, cars and people are still out and about, and the streetlights are starting to flicker on. In a small way, it reminds Toshiro of his days watching the Junrinan from up in the trees.

“You always had a knack for finding good views from high places,” Isshin continues. “I remember you used to climb on the barracks’ roofs. Never understood why, until I got up there and saw what you were looking at.”

Toshiro clenches his jaw as memories of those times flash in his mind. Isshin lecturing him from the ground, then usually ending up on the roof with him, continuing to lecture him until he saw the view. Somehow, it’d end up with Toshiro eventually chastising his captain for skipping out on his duties and trying to get him to climb down.

What resolve he had to stop things from bubbling over erodes. “You’ve always been reckless. You left without warning. You left the division to me.” Then, more icily. “Why?”

Isshin is silent as he turns his gaze back to him. He’s solemn but there’s a resolve there, one Toshiro knew all too well. When Isshin committed to something, he did so with all of his heart, with every ounce of determination within him; Toshiro couldn’t help but be reminded of it when he saw the same in Ichigo sometimes. It’s that determination that made them both reckless, fearless even.

“I had every intention of returning to the Soul Society, but it wasn’t that simple,” Isshin explains. “Masaki, my wife, needed my help. She risked her life to save mine when I was attacked in Naruki City. I owed her my life and I wouldn’t turn my back on her. To save her from death, I had to give up my Shinigami abilities.”

Of all the explanations and theories Toshiro had come up with in the past decade, a scenario like that had never come to mind. Now, it seems like the most obvious reason, because at his core, his captain was always committed saving lives, especially those he owed a debt to. Regardless,to think someone could sway his former captain in such a way, to make him give up everything he ever knew. He’d abandoned his Shinigami status and old life to be with her, to start a family with her. Anger and sympathy war within Toshiro, but he, frustratingly, can’t decide which emotion should win out.

Isshin smiles and the fire in his eyes softens. “It seems foolish, I know, but it wasn’t long after I started living as a human that I realized Masaki was my center. Even if I hadn’t lost my powers, it’d be hard to pull out of orbit of someone I'd come to care about as much as her and try to return to who I was before I met her.”

Toshiro barely manages to hold back a snide snort. “Since when did you become poetic?”

Isshin chuckles. “You’ll get it when you find someone you feel the same way about. They’ll become your sun, the center of your universe.” He sighs through his nose. “Although, I think you can understand it already, on some level.”

Toshiro watches the sun touch the horizon and says nothing, afraid of indulging whatever musing Isshin has.

His mind wonders to Momo, to their days in the Junrinan. It always did when he came to this spot at this time. How many sunsets had he watched with her? When had they stopped doing that? Not long after she left for the Academy, he remembers. The last time was on her break during her third year. It wasn't something he missed until she had been in denial about Aizen's true self.

How is she right now? Was her new captain treating her well? He'd had reservations about coming on a day trip because of the latter, but they'd agreed to speak once he returned. It'll be the first time he's seen her since his failure at the fake Karakura Town. He still can't let go of the guilt from that event, has wondered if he's worthy enough yet to face her again. Another part of him, the one that pushed him to finally see her again, knew he couldn't keep going without seeing her.

He imagines the Isshin he knew, risking his life for a human who risked her life to save his, and he knew that foolhardy determination, that feeling of owing one he had a debt to, would’ve guided him to who he is today. He can’t say he doesn’t relate on some level. Hadn’t he almost done the same for Momo? More than once over the last two years, he’d abandoned his principles when she was in danger, and knew without a second thought he would risk his life for hers.

With some agitation, he inwardly admits his old captain still knows him too well.

“It sounds like the division is doing well.”

“…What did Matsumoto tell you?”

“That you two are handling everything, that there’s no need for me to come back even if I wanted to. I’m not surprised, though. I knew regardless of whether you became captain or not, or if Matsumoto would stay on as lieutenant, the division was in good hands with you two being a part of it.”

Toshiro wants to shove away the sentimental ache in his chest. There was a time where he was ready to round on his former captain and interrogate him, believing no matter his reasons he would never forgive him. Now…he’s just tired. He has no energy left to hate the man for abandoning them, and his reasoning he can, frustratingly or thankfully, relate to.

So instead, he remarks, “I’m surprised Matsumoto didn’t knock you over.”

Isshin grins. “She almost did, but Inoue-san stopped her.”

_______________________________________

The sky is dyed various shades of yellow and orange, and the shadows of trees fall away as they reach highest point of the path. Below, beyond the foliage and five minutes away is the Junrinan, alive with lights and souls, just small dots, wondering the streets. Momo now trails a few feet behind him; neither have spoken a word in the last ten minutes.

A wind blows through, and without thinking, Toshiro follows its direction and looks to his left. The sun is gradually descending to the horizon, but below it…

He stops mid step. Something in him falls, making him go slack in the shoulders and the air freeze in his lungs.

In his peripheral, Momo makes a confused sound before she too follows his gaze. “Oh…” She raises a hand to her chest.

Districts one through to twenty-five for the north and west are sprawled out beneath them. The ones affected by the war are obvious: buildings completely leveled or almost gone, nature upturned and ground scarred, ruins of the palace standing out like a sore thumb. Unlike the districts around them, their lights are fewer and far between, small fires meant to keep groups of souls warm in their temporary shelters. Smoke trails twirls up into the sky, toward where the Palace wreckage had come from and ruined their homes.

Seeing it all together, it makes him grit his teeth against the growing tightness around his heart. Is he failing them? The souls in the Rukongai and the officer who gave their lives. He knows how the former think of him, but the latter, he dreads to wonder how they would view him right now.

He’s startled by a sob. Peering over to Momo, she smacks a hand over mouth, eyes wide in alarm and rimmed with tears.

“Hi--Hinamori?” he says, unknowingly taking a step towards her.

She’s quick to wipe away the tears that escape. “I-I…I’m sorry. Now’s not the time for any of this. It’s one thing to hear about how many districts were affected, but seeing it all t-together, just seeing it all, it’s…” She bites her lip, but it doesn’t stop another tear from falling. “I know we can make it through this and help everyone in the Rukongai, but it’s still…it’s hard to go through all of it to get there. But I have no right to cry now, not when they’re suffering more than us. I’ll cry when I can finally bury those who gave their lives, but until then, I have to focus on restoring everything, right?”

For a brief moment, the world blurs around him, and she is the only thing in focus. With almost stumbling steps, he goes to her, as if being drawn to her by an invisible force; even if he wanted break away, he couldn’t.

There’s hardly any gap between them, their faces close enough that he came make out the faint, small scar on the side of her forehead; from an injury she got while up at the Palace. He’s almost lost her more than once, and he recalls the worry in the back of his mind during the war that she could perish to the Quincy. A small part of him still chastises himself for not being able to prevent her from being injured, but that was the reality of war and combat, and he thanks whatever forces drive this world that it hadn’t been worse.

He surprises both of them when he cups her cheeks and wipes away a tear with his thumb. In the stunned silence his thoughts race, but not with work or guilt.

Perhaps because of all she had gone through in the last two years, he can’t stand to see her cry anymore. Her heart had been wounded; she had put her trust like everyone else in an illusion once. She’d been in denial, had asked him to he unthinkable in sparing a traitor’s life, but she had come to accept everything, now has clearer eyes. Gone is some of her naivety, and in it’s place is a girl who knows better, who even after all her grief and heartache, still reaches out a hand to help and guide.

As the shock wears off, he’s quick to pull away. “S-Sorry.”

“I-It’s okay” she says, still stunned.

Her tears have vanished and a faint pink colors the tops of her cheeks. Perhaps she waits for an explanation, but he has none. She had done the same for him when they were younger, wiping away his tears and leaving him shocked by the gentle gesture, but this feels different. It was to comfort her, but also for something else…

However, the image of the boy from eighth district comes to mind, and it reminds him that he doesn’t know how to comfort others. He spots the boy’s district, off to the far left. That child is a little older than he was before he went to the Academy. Toshiro wonders if he got to live the life he’d always imagined himself having, away from war and violence and grief. Now the latter had come, in the destruction of his home and his district. And what had Toshiro done? Given him a toy back and told him the same thing his officers would’ve already said. It's pathetic.

“It would have been better if you had spoken to that child.” When she says nothing, he folds his arms into his sleeves and elaborates. “Residents need hope in times like this. It is not something I inspire in others.”

“That’s not true,” she responds immediately, and with such a tenderness he’s forced to meet her gaze. She closes the gap between them again with two strides, her eyes wide and emphatic, and it takes him aback.

“I’ve learned that hope doesn’t always come in kind words,” she continues. “Sometimes it comes in an apology, or in a promise to do better, whether it’s to yourself or to someone else.” Her eyes mist again, and her smile returns. “Sometimes it’s just knowing you have a friend there. I have you, Captain Hirako, Abarai-kun, Kira-kun, Rangiku-san, Hisagi-kun, and Nanao-san. I’m incredibly lucky to have you all.”

She points to the Rukongai. “Not everyone down there has someone, I know, but I believe they can find friends and family, just like we all did. In times like this, it’s amazing the connections one can make. I’ve seen it in my districts, how they help each other and give each other hope. We can contribute to that, you contribute to that by vowing to rebuild their homes, by them shelter and food, by giving them back possessions that mean something to them.”

She rests a hand on his forearm, and he brings his hands out of his sleeves. For the first time since they reconciled, she takes his hand in hers. “You’ve been there for me for decades, and I didn’t truly realise it until Captain Ai—I mean, Aizen Sosuke – betrayed us. I’m truly grateful that you still consider me a friend, that we can still talk and share things together. You…You give me hope, Hitsugaya-kun, and I’m certain I’m not the only one.”

The sunlight has turned her eyes to amber, bright like the embers of the element she wields. Her hair shines, almost golden, as if it were made of wisps of the sun. Her skin glows, and there isn’t a single shadow in her soft smile.

It’s the first time he’s considered her beautiful.

Her appearance has never been a major concern of his, unless she was sick or injured. At times he thought she was cute when she smiled or got excited, or could admire something she had done with her hair. Why did he view her differently now? Had the sunlight been just right? Had this moment of vulnerability made him see a different side to her?

But she’s the same. She’s one of the only people he knows who even while sobbing in despair can still have hope for the future, and one of the few who can still think of others while struggling with her own demons. Others would mistake her for being weak, but he only saw strength. He wants to protect her from threats beyond her control, but she’s more than capable of taking on most things, whether it was with tears in her eyes or an angry furrow in her brow or a smile on her lips. She held out a hand to anyone, sometimes to a fault, sometimes to a benefit.

In this world of violence and war and grief, they only have each other, and he has her still. She held on, for him and for other Shinigami, because she’s strong and kind and his friend.

His heart swells, and it dawns on him.

Oh…

He lets out a shuddered breath and bows his head. The revelation crashes over him like a wave, rendering him mute and tightening his chest painfully.

He loves her.

Momo says his name, uncertain. When he doesn’t respond,she tries to search his eyes. Had he always adored her earnestness? When did her will and wish to understand him become so endearing? It’s almost too much. He prays that somehow his thoughts aren't conveyed in his gaze.

She releases his hand, and he almost reaches out to take it back. “Did I say something wrong?” she asks.

“No,” he manages to murmur, “no, you didn’t.”

He knew his feelings towards her had shifted over the decades, and when she had been on the brink of death the first time, he knew they were something deeper than he’d thought. But love? This is how it felt; it’s as light as air, freeing and special, but somehow keeping him grounded and with the power to make his heart ache or race.

Is this what Isshin spoke of when he said someone could become your center?

Why did a realisation like this have to come at this time? He had enough on his mind, and now this. It should he the most important thing to him, but the repair and the dead are foremost on his mind. But somehow, it doesn't feel like a burden or another weight on his shoulder like he expects. If anything, it's inexplicably lifted some of that weight off. He can't stay focused on this, he'll need to unpack this later.

“I’m tired.” He can sense it’s not enough of an answer for her, so with some push back from the side of him that always keeps his innermost thoughts from being voiced, he adds, “I never knew you thought of me that way.”

She gives a weak chuckle. “I must admit, I didn’t think I would say that, it’s a little embarrassing, b-but it’s true.”

“…Thank you.”

“And you too, Shiro-chan. I didn’t know you thought about me that way either.”

Ah, he had more or less admitted she inspired hope, hadn’t he? A fresh blush starts to rise up to his cheeks, but he’s quick to tread away from her and continue down the path. “We’re not going to make it back in time to Hirako or Matsumoto, but we might as well continue to the Junrinan.”

She comes up to his side, smile rueful. “I suppose so, yes.”

“…It’s as you said, though, we need to put these repairs first, but we also need to take time to rest.” Again he fights that reserved part of himself to continue. “Sometimes that can include visiting someone or laughing a little or...being a little late to something." He almost cringes, it goes against his principal of always being punctual. "Regardless, it shouldn’t feel like you don’t have the right to rest.”

Her smile widens to a grin, and she takes his hands again. Unlike last time, a pulse runs up his arm like a lighting bolt and straight to his chest. Being in love is going to take some getting used to.

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d admit that rest can include laughing,” she says. “It’s hard in time like this to feel like you deserve rest, but it’s true. It’s like Captain Hirako told me once: ‘If you don’t rest, you can’t help anyone’.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is important.”

She giggles, and it’s one of the most soothing sounds he’s heard since the war ended. “It can look like friends helping each other too.”

_______________________

The girl stands beneath a bare tree, clad in her multiple layers, her back to him, and staring at the silhouette of the Seiretei through the mist. Just in front of her is the only alleyway that leads back to his house. Toshiro curses himself for not having turned off the main path sooner, but he hadn’t noticed the girl until he got this close.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he treads soundlessly to the other side of the path, into the cover of shadows. However, in his way all along the path’s side is snow, and the crunch of his footsteps will surely alert the girl of his presence. Perhaps she will be too caught up in her mind though, she hadn’t even noticed the ring of a chime from the house behind her or the budged when the wind grew stronger.

Needing to get home, he risks it, walking on the snow to the alleyway and keeping his head low. Something makes him tilt his head a fraction back to her as he moves along. Now closer, he can tell she’s around his age. Only a few souls were ever out in this cold, and all of them had been adults. She’s an oddity in that regard, and in coming out at this time. It’s the third time he’s seen her, and not once had he spotted her in the Junrinan at any other hour – then again, the district is packed with souls, he’d be lucky sometimes if he sees the same shopkeeper three behind the counter more than three times in the same month.

The wind catches on his scarf, causing the end to fly out of the shadows. He looks away from her and hurries his footsteps while trying to catch his scarf.

“Oh!”

Toshiro cringes at being caught. Despite his mind telling him to make a run for it, he’s stuck, as if the cold had frozen him on the spot. Without thinking, he looks back to the girl. Her wide eyes are brown, almost the same colour as her hair.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she asks, her words muffled slightly by the scarf covering her mouth. "What’re you doing out?"

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts without thinking.

She blinks, taken aback by his answer. After a moment, she shrugs. “I get up early.”

“And go outside?”

“Yeah, there isn’t much to do inside when everyone’s asleep.” She turns on her heel back to the silhouette of the Seireitei. "It's also the only time I get to see this clearly too, even with all the mist and snow."

With her attention diverted, he can make a getaway. He goes to, but she speaks up again.

"Have you ever been in there?" she asks.

The question is so preposterous he can't help but snark back, "As if they'd ever let any of us wonder in there."

"Oh, so it's just Shinigami then?"

He raises a brow. "You're new around here or something?"

She nods. "I arrived two weeks ago. I'm still learning everything." She tugs the scarf over her mouth down, showing her bright red cheeks and a wide smile. He's bewildered by the latter; aside from Granny, no one had ever smiled at him before.

"I'm Hinamori Momo by the way," she says.

She waits for him to reciprocate, but he wonders further into the shadows. Perhaps she was only being friendly to him because didn't know who he was or because, more likely, she can't make out his from over there.

Her smile dims at his reaction. "Ah, sorry. I guess I just came out and spoke to you without warning. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The light of the sunrise faintly pierces through the clouds, shining through the alleyways and making the snow dully glimmer. She'll surely see him more clearly now

"Your hair is so white!"

He scowls and rubs a hand through his spikes without realising. "What about it?"

"Ah, sorry! It's just that I've never seen hair like your before. It's like the snow."

It's about the nicest thing anyone has ever said about his appearance and he isn't sure how to take it. Furthermore, it seems no one hadn't told her about him. It would only be a matter of time before she finds out, but maybe, for even a day, for even just this hour, he could talk with another who didn't judge him for his appearance or the apparent coldness he gave off.

He steps out from the shadows and on to the main street. In half a grumble, he introduces himself. "Hitsugaya Toshiro."

She tilts her head, but then it hits her. "Oh, that's your name." Her smile returns anew. "It's nice to meet you."

With introductions out of the way, he isn't sure where to take this.

He looks to the Seireitei, feeling nothing towards it, but right now, the world only has the two of them looking at the horizon, and it makes him feel something that's as light and boundless as snow.

_______________________

Toshiro comes to a stop before he ascends the stairs to Granny’s house. He takes in the structure of it, from the roof to the ground, thankful it remains standing. He knocks on the front door, and when she doesn’t answer, he wonders to the back.

She sits on the veranda, cup of tea in hand and a bowl at her side. It’s a peaceful image, one he almost doesn’t want to disturb. She doesn’t notice him at first, too lost in thought, but she perks up as he nears.

She abandons her tea, nearly stumbles trying to meet him halfway. He rushes forward, fearing she’ll fall. “Wait, Baa-chan!”

Her voice is weak when she finally speaks. “Toshiro…you’re…” She raises her hands, cupping his face between them. Tears form in the corners of her eyes, and her lips keep twitching between a frown and a relieved smile.

“I’m okay,” he reassures, voice raspy. “Hinamori is here too, she’s just visiting Ayumi and Tatsukichi.”

She brings him into a hug. “Welcome home.”

And that does it. Biting back a sob, he hugs her back. Relief floods through him, and the weight of his duties momentarily lifts away. He will go back and do everything he can for ever soul affected, to ensure they can have a home like this again.He will remember the dead, will ensure their families are looked after and to visit every shrine to pay his respects and his gratefulness to them.

It's a minute later when she ushers him into her house and brews a fresh pot of tea. He answers all of her worried questions, and she reassure him he is doing his best everything he had to do.

Momo joins them later, grinning as she hugs Granny and then as Granny prepares her a tea.

He can't look away from her, his heart beating faster whenever she looks to him and swelling when she laughs or smiles. To know he loves her, to finally have a name for the feelings he's had towards her, has changed him.

And maybe it had come to him now because in it’s own way, whether he ever confessed to her or not, knowing how he feels about her was hope. He can feel for her anew, could continue to live by her side with a new view of who she is.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Fic: Some Things

This fic is for @canariie​ for the @hitsuhina-week​ Gift Exchange! She asked for something fluffy and HitsuHina in the Living World together. I have tried my best to deliver! <3

Title: Some Things Characters: Hinamori, Hitsugaya Word Count: ~3000 Summary: Hinamori heads to the Living World with a top secret special mission from her captain, with secret codes and scavenger hunts involved. Accompaniment: Hitsugaya, on "personal business." Three objects, two people, and one long conversation about everything and nothing. (Post-TYBW))

1. Something you’d kill for

2. Something you’d die for

And 3. —

[Read on AO3]

[hesitationss]

ANOTHER great TYBW ep! and we are getting multi-ep Everything But the Rain !

[prpfz]

I'm a 27F looking for anyone interested in playing the following characters from Bleach for a canon x OC plot! ⚔️

🍪 and being open to incest is preferred but not required

Ikkaku Madarame, Gin Ichimaru, Nnoitra Gilga, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, or Ulquiorra Cifer!

In exchange, I can offer or double as: Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, Nemu Kurotsuchi, Tobiume, Lilynette Gingerbuck and others among the female cast!

If you are interested more so in CC x CC these are my preferred OTPS:

HitsuHina (with me playing Hinamori), IchiHime (open to playing either), RenRuki (with me playing Rukia), RukiHime (open to playing either) are my main OTPs but I am open to other ships!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 4: Back to Back/ I’m Sorry

Rating: K

Summary: Momo and Toshiro have an argument weeks before their wedding.

AN: A bit shorter than I usually like but still a good one.

--------------------------

The grass blew lightly in the peaceful summer breeze as birds flew in formation above. The light of the sun reflected in the clear and calm waters of the canal that cut through Karakura Town. Momo sighed, blowing wisps of her hair that had come loose from the chignon she had hastily downed her hair into earlier. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. But she’d had to get away from… everything. Momo held her hand out and stared at the diamond ring on her left hand. Everything had started out so perfect this morning. She had woken up in the tight embrace of her fiancé, their legs tangled together with the sheets. They’d had a nice breakfast and discussed the ongoing plans for the wedding.

She’d chatted on and on about about the catering, the cake, and gushed at the custom embroidered napkins Rangiku had ordered for the occasion. Toshiro really didn’t care about that kind of stuff, but he’d smiled and listened anyway, contributing his own opinions, and remarking on how diligent Rangiku has been since she’d appointed herself as their wedding planner. But then he had to bring up the paperwork involved with marriage. Boring legal documents, and certificates that they needed to fill out either before or after the ceremony to make everything official. The problem was that it inevitably brought up the topic of names which had been something they hadn’t really discussed at length.

She had come to the decision on her own about a month ago after spending weeks debating the whole thing with herself. She wasn’t going to take his name when they married. Momo liked her name. Momo Hinamori is who she had always been. And as much as she loved Toshiro’s name, Momo Hitsugaya just wasn’t the name she wanted everyone referring to her as. She loves Toshiro. She wants to be his wife, have a family with him someday. She wants to be by his side everyday for the rest of their lives. But she just wants to do it carrying her own name. What about that was so hard for him to understand?

Young as he is, there are some things that makes him seem like such… an old man. Insisting that husband and wife need to carry the same surname. He even went so far as the suggest he take her name. Toshiro Hinamori. That just sounded stupid. His name was perfect for him. And maybe for their children someday. But not for her.

The argument had been loud, voices raised and reiatsu flaring from both of them as neither of them were willing to concede the point. With nothing left to say, they had gone their separate ways still fuming after the exchange. Momo had tried to find a secluded place to calm down without being reminded of him. But that is hard to do when there are so few places that don’t hold some memory of the two of them together. He’d proposed to her in their old childhood home. The hills on the Academy grounds had been where they’d go to relax after a long day of classes. They liked the same tea shops, and restaurants where they’d go on dates too. And both of their respective barracks were filled with fond memories of lunch breaks and lazy afternoons spent together. Momo glanced up at the sky, groaning as she noticed the blue sky giving way to a light pink color as the sun was beginning its slow decent. Hell, even the sunsets reminded her of him.

Falling onto her back, she covered her face with her arms. Horrible as it sounds, she wished a hoard of hollows was roaming around the city right now. It would give her something to distract from her miserable mood. But, no. Karakura had to be uncharacteristically quiet when she arrived today. She’d spent hours wandering the streets looking for anything to do. But the only thing she’d found were a few wholes that she’d performed konsos on. The rest of the day, she’d just walked around. She avoided her Captain’s visord friends, not wanting her location relayed back to the Sereitei in case her angry fiancé came looking for her. She didn’t want to argue with him again.

Momo let her arms fall away when the heat of the sun faded. Holding her hand up, she watched the fading light play on the edges of the diamond with slivers of red and orange reflecting for a few minutes before finally surrendering to the dark. She frowned and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. They were getting married in a few weeks and right now, when they should be happy, they were anything but. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the deal breaker for them. She knew that she couldn’t budge on this. It was her name. It wasn’t something as trivial as deciding which side of the closet was hers, or opening a joint bank account. Momo would be the first to admit that their relationship had been anything but smooth sailing. They’d had their fair share of challenges and concessions over the years. None of them felt this irresolvable.

The hairs on the back of her arms rose as she felt his presence approaching behind her. Her back stiffened as she kept her eyes locked on the water in front of her even as his shadow loomed over her. He made no move to sit down beside her or get any closer, as he kept his distance.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” He said. “Didn’t think you’d actually come to the World of the Living to get away from me.”

“You’re not easy to get away from,” She sighed. “Suppose that’s what I get for falling in love with my best friend.”

“…Yeah…”

She sat up a little taller, squaring her shoulders. “I’m not changing my mind on this, Toshiro,” She said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

He was dressed in dark jeans and a black button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hands were tucked in his pockets. “I know you aren’t,” He said. “I… is it so wrong that I want everyone to know you’re mine? For you to carry my name and make it clear that you’re happily married?”

“I’m wearing your ring. Isn’t that enough?”

“…”

“If you want me to shout from the top of Sokyoku Hill that I’m with you, that you are the only man I will ever love, then I’ll do it. But I’m not changing my name. And I won’t let you take mine either.”

He was quiet for a long moment, gathering his thoughts carefully before he spoke again. Toshiro sighed, his shoulder slumped. “Is it really that important to you?” He asked.

Momo nodded in reply.

Lifting his head to the sky, his brow was in a tight knit as he thought for several more minutes. The sound of the flowing water in the canal and the chirps of crickets the only sound between them. “Alright,” He said quietly when he was ready. “I… I can’t say I fully understand it. Or even agree, but… I can live with it.” He swallowed a lump in his throat and his shoulders tensed a bit. “I… I’m sorry, Momo.”

She held out her hand toward him and he immediately took it, letting her tug him to sit down beside her. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the ring on her finger as she scooted closer to him, pressing her body into his side. “You know I love you, right?”

“As I love you.”

Momo smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder as their fingers intertwined and they relaxed against one another. A cool night breeze ruffled the tall grass around them as they just sat there, content in the peace they had brokered. Momo knew there was a deeper reasoning behind the whole name thing for Toshiro. But she wasn’t going to press him on it for now. Instead, she looked up at the stars with him, taking comfort in the sounds of the waters in the canal and the crickets serenading the night.

[ryomaunnie]

Here's my entry for the @hitsuhina-week exchange! It didnt exactly get to where I wanted to go with the fic, but I hope you like it @mercurialwitch !

------------------

After the battle against the Quincys, Momo Hinamori started having nightmares from time to time. At first she didn't exactly worry, as she sometimes still had them from Fake Karakura.

Her new dreams sampled a lot from the latest war. She still felt the rubble on her body, the blood hot on her face, her Captain unconscious over her shoulders and a cold presence over her head. A cold so menacing that would make even the strongest soldier quiver, but not her. Toshiro's coldness was something that had never scared her, his stoic way of being was so familiar that it had become a home.

A home she had taken for granted.

It had taken time, understanding Aizen's betrayal and healing her broken and confused heart. She had worked hard to get better. She had help along the way. Her friends were real, patient and kind. Rangiku had kept her updated on Toshiro. Oh, Toshiro. He was busy training to perfect his bankai. He didn't mention anything because he didn't want to worry her. Momo tried to respect his wishes and watch him from afar.

But she also see that he was tired. Stubborn Shiro had always been like that, pushing and pushing until he did better and then trying to hide it and make it seem like it was effortless. It pained her that he hid his suffering, especially from her. They used to know each other inside out, barriers only on appearance. She could see past his frown and he could see past her smile. She could see that he was not really angry and he could see that she was not really cheerful. Aizen had tried breaking that and for a while, she walked closely along to the fine line between loyalty and blindness. But even in her worst moment, her blatant disbelief in Shiro's supposed betrayal to Soul Society made her question what the man had written. She had to balance what was her duty with her heart and it became impossible to fall into a side.

She knew Shiro had worried to insanity until she got better. And when she got better, he never stopped worrying.

Momo knew that he followed her recovery closely and that made her want to recover faster. While healing she started training again until she was confident enough in her abilities to use them once more and when she did, she continued training to perfect them. Knowing Toshiro was giving his body and soul to get better motivated her and gave her strength to continue.

However, there was something in all these experiences that kept her uneasy. The restlessness had become so evident on her that even laidback Captain Hirako looked at her funny.

So that night she had decided to do something about it. She had decided to reach out to her refuge, to the person who had constantly stayed by her side, no matter what the circumstances may be. While walking, she reflected on her best friend. She didn't want to be a bother. It was late.

But she needed to see him.

She needed to talk to him.

The small lieutenant reached Toshiro's private quarters and knocked down. Maybe it was better to go back. He valued sleep time and here she was disturbing it and for what? Some nightmares? Was she a little child? What about…

-Hinamori?

Momo looked up. There he was, surprised, hair down and sleep robes. Clearly just awoken.

-Oh! Shiro! Eh…sorry I woke you up, I… if it's not too much…can I enter?

Toshiro stared at her and waited. After a minute, he reacted and stepped aside quietly, nodding his head in welcome.

-What do you want at this hour? I can't help you if you wet the bed, we are not kids anymore.

Momo stayed silent. She looked down - I'm having nightmares again. Can we talk?

The boy frowned and sighed- I'll brew tea. Sit down.

She smiled weakly but relieved that he wasn't upset. Sitting down, she watched him make tea and thanked inwards for his patience.

-So? If you're here, you want to talk.

The girl looked up, wide-eyed - Sorry Shiro. I haven't been sleeping well… I just… needed company. Do you mind?

Toshiro crossed his arms and looked over her -It's fine. You should worry more about yourself. Your eyebags are showing again.

Momo drank and stared at the cup - I know - she said - I guess I'm still thinking about the war. About captain Hirako. About surviving - she stilled - About what would have happened if you collapsed after your bankai.

He frowned even more - Do you doubt my strength? I trained hard, you know.

-I know that -she looked him in the eye - I just can't stop worrying about what would have happened. What… what I would do if… how I'd react… I don't know if I could stand going through it.

-You'd be fine. You have survived through worse.

The girl shook her head quickly - I don't think so. I can't even begin to imagine… I see it every night and I can't stand it. You are very important to me, Shiro.

-Don't call me that, bed-wetter.

Momo snapped -I'm serious!

-I know. You… are important to me too, Hinamori. You have nightmares now but they'll go away, you are stronger than you think. Hirako told me you have been training.

-I have. Can't train these thoughts away, but I'm trying. I have been trying for a long time. I'm walking the path I longed for and I know you have been making a lot of effort too.- she finished her tea and set down the cup - Thank you. For being there for me, always.

Hitsugaya raised from his place and walked over to the open closet to take another futon and set it over, close to his.

-Let's catch up on sleep, come on.

Momo followed the white-haired boy, sat down and smiled at him - Toshiro.

He looked over at her and she smiled wider.

-Mhn?

-I'm not going to have bad dreams now. I'm never scared by your side, I know you'll always have my back.

Hitsugaya's mouth turned upwards just a bit and they locked eyes - Always - he slipped under the covers - Good night, Momo.

-Good night Shiro!

-...don't call me that.

-Sorry, Hitsugaya.

—-------------------

-Shiro?

-Mhn.

-Tomorrow can we go together to the wedding?

-We age going the same way, it's obvious we're going together.

-I know. But… You know.

-Yeah… let's go together.

Momo sighed happily - Yes!

—--------------------

-Are you ready? We're going to be late, bed-wetter.

-Almost! And stop that! I don't wet the bed anymore! I think I proved that by now!

Toshiro protested silently. She still has problems being on time, and now he got caught in it. Bah! He crossed his legs and waited.

-Ready to go!

He glanced at her and stilled. She was beautiful. Standing up, he closed his eyes and sighed - Well, let's go.

Momo caught up with him and grabbed his arm.

-Oi!- he said, embarrassed

-You look nice- she smiled brightly

Toshiro blushed and offered his arm for her to grab -Here, you are going to fall with those shoes so hold on.

-Yes!

----------------------------

-They look lovely, don't you think?

-Mnh.

-I would like to look like that on my wedding day.

Toshiro stood silent while they got in position to start the ceremony. While it progressed, Momo continued to hold his arm so he looked at her. He hadn't noticed, doing it out of habit. He looked back and the ceremony has reached the bonding. Ah. He looked back at her. Yes, Momo was crying. He smiled a little smile and stood tall, but relaxed, as the person who motivated his own progress cried, finally out of happiness. Toshiro looked back at the marrying couple and continued smiling softly, barely seen.

-Mnh?

Momo stopped watching her friends and looked over at Toshiro, who again looked back at her.

-...Shiro...- Between her joyful tears, she understood. And she smiled wider than ever. Yes, they would have each other, as long as they fought together. For eternity.

They held hands tightly against Toshiro's chest.

--------‐------‐------‐---‐----

As they approach the newlyweds to congratulate them, they notice the couple tense.

-Congratulations on your marriage Renji! You look beautiful Rukia!- Momo said, then looking over Toshiro's features softly- The ceremony was very emotional for us.

-Ch! Talk about yourself - calmly, without letting go of her arm, he crossed the other one and enclosed her hand with his with boldly- Congratulations to you both.-

-Don't be mean Shiro! I wish my own ceremony to be as nice as theirs!

-Shiro?

Renji and Rukia stilled. They knew Momo was close to the small captain and surely her being familiar with him and seemingly about to marry his brother... They looked at each other and smiled, Renji regarding his friend kindly.

-Well, I'm sure your wedding to Captain Hitsugaya's brother will be as lovely as can be, Momo.

Rukia excitedly added - Yes! We will help in any way we can! Anything for you and Captain Hitsugaya's older brother!

Momo looked confused and Toshiro frowned even more - What are you talking about?

The Abarais froze. What? But they had seen him! And Momo always mentioned that she was much better thanks to Hitsu...

-Aaah...! That time you meant the Captain was helping you! Forgive me Sir, I don't want to create discord among you and your brother!

Toshiro frowned even more, if possible- Abarai, I don't have any siblings.

- But...! Against Gerard! We saw him! We even greeted him! He looked very intimidating!

Momo laughed softly -Guys! That wasn't Shiro's brother! It's Shiro's bankai!

-Eh?

All was well.

[canariie]

in law out(ing)

Rating: T

Synopsis: But what puzzled Toushiro more (and it was really too early for this), was that he was holding two fishing poles and wearing rubber boots.

“Why are you here?” Toushiro whispered venomously.

“Get ready! We’re going to the living world to fish!” Shinji responded cheekily, thrusting a pole and pair of boots in Toushiro’s unexpecting hands, as if that were answer enough.

“And why are we doing this?” he asked dubiously, inspecting the tools in his hands.

“Because we got to go when the fish are ‘bout to wake up!” Shinji rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re going to bond today! I got a whole list of activities for us to do.”

Toushiro muttered, “Is this your idea of bonding?”

…

Toushiro and Shinji have a day off to bond together (at Momo’s behest).

Word Count: 4290 words

Setting:  established relationship, many decades after the last Bleach chapter  

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week‘s Hitsuhina 2022 Gift Exchange

Authour’s Note: I’m so sorry that this is late! This is for @pinkhairedlily who requested Toushiro asking Shinji for Momo’s hand in marriage!

I kind of stepped back from the prompt a little bit but I do sincerly hope you enjoy it! I will admit, I am nervous because this is my first time writing Shinji and thinking of him (which is a lot harder than I thought), but it was a fun process.

Also shout out to Fuji Kaze’s Shinunoga E-Wa for being the unexpected mood setter!

— 

“Hitsugaya-taicho, I have a favour to ask…” Momo drawled out, as she snuggled into her boyfriend’s side. It was a cold winter night and the two were sitting in bed, reading their respective books. Momo had introduced Toushiro to the concept of reading before bed and he had to admit that he had been enjoying the latest titles she bought for him in the real world. Before they went to sleep, she would eagerly ask him what he thought until he would have to gently remind her to go to sleep if it were too late.

But tonight, it seemed like she had other things on her mind. Ah the captain’s title... Hinamori must really want something.

“What is it?”

“I know there is a captain’s day off at the end of the week…” she said softly as she traced patterns on his collarbone. “I think it’d be nice if you would spend it with Hirako-taicho.”

“No.”

“But Hitsugaya-kun,” Well there goes the title—it was nice while it lasted.

“I already have plans,” he defended, continuing to read his book.

“What plans?”

“To…read,” he said, turning a page for emphasis.

Momo arched her eyebrow. “Rangiku-san told me that you were excited for the day off so you could catch up on archiving old reports…”

“Those are valid plans for a day off.”

The book was gently taken from his hands, and he looked up to see Momo leaning over him as she held his face in her hands. “Toushiro,” she whispered with such intensity that it made his mind stutter, especially as she leant over, her long hair cascading around him like a curtain.

“I know you two have not always seen eye to eye...” He scoffed, but Momo continued undeterred. “However, I think if you spent a little time with each other outside of work, you could get to know each other better.”

She moved closer until Toushiro could see sparks flicker in her brown eyes, and feel warmth shoot down his core.

“You are my most important person and it would mean the world to me if you got along better with my captain.”

Toushiro raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Momo rolled her eyes. “The last one didn’t count.”

He said nothing, but Momo knew he was thinking it deeply over. She kissed his cheek. “Please?”

Toushiro knew that Momo knew exactly what she was doing. But even he had to admit that her words stirred something inside him. Toushiro sighed in defeat.

Momo smiled, knowing she had gotten him to cave in. She dipped down and kissed him deeply, melting into him and making him see warm sparks behind his eyes.

“Most important person, huh?” he breathed when they separated.  

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, what of it?”

Momo yelped as Toushiro pulled her waist down, until she was cradled by him in his lap.

He bent down, his eyes deepening to a dark emerald. “You have always been my most important person—even before I knew it.”

Momo blushed, a silly smile on her face as she tucked her face into his neck.

He sighed in faux lament, “But—know that you owe me.”

She smiled with a knowing glint in her eyes, pulling his face down towards hers. “I’m sure I can think of a way to make it up.”

---

Toushiro grumbled as a loud knocking persisted at his door. It was his day off and he had been hoping to sleep in. He glared out his window, where it was still completely pitch black outside—but that did not deter the loud noise.

“What is it?” Toushiro growled as he stumbled out of bed and pulled the door roughly aside.

He had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

The fifth captain, Shinji Hirako, stood in front of him with a maddingly toothy grin. But what puzzled Toushiro more (and it was really too early for this), was that he was holding two fishing poles and wearing rubber boots.

“Why are you here?” Toushiro whispered venomously.

“Get ready! We’re going to the living world to fish!” Shinji responded cheekily, thrusting a pole and pair of boots in Toushiro’s unexpecting hands, as if that were answer enough.

“And why are we doing this?” he asked dubiously, inspecting the tools in his hands.

“Because we got to go when the fish are ‘bout to wake up!” Shinji rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re going to bond today! I got a whole list of activities for us to do.”

Toushiro muttered, “Is this an idea your idea of bonding?”

“This is mandatory for all officers in the Fifth Division. But I’d never wake my darling lieutenant this early—I’d give her another hour at least.”

Toushiro scowled deeply. “Don’t call her darling,” he said darkly—before slamming the door shut.

---

Toushiro had never seen the water so early in the morning. It was twilight, the sky blurring into a gentle blue. There was a sense that the sun was edging onto the horizon, but it still felt far and distant.

After they had stopped for coffee (which the older captain had the decency to pay for since Toushiro was still in a foul mood from being groused so early in the morning without warning), even he had to begrudgingly admit, that it was quite serene.

He did not expect the fifth division captain to have an itinerary for the day. Toushiro’s plans for the day was to just hop over to the Fifth, ask the captain to accompany him for tea (in front of Momo so she could see that yes, he was making an attempt at interaction) and finish that up in an hour and a half max—so he could go and work on archiving old reports the rest of the day.

Because to be frank, Toushiro would have rather spent the day off with Momo. They hadn’t had time alone to go out for a long time and that for him was a much more desirable way to spend his time off.

Instead, he was sitting in a fold out chair, clutching a fishing pole on a wooden dock at five in the morning as Shinji explained the wisdom of fishing.

“The key is to be patient. They’ll come to you but ya got to wait—otherwise you’ll miss your chance,” the blond captain explained as he raised his pole and swung, the line flying through air before making a gentle plop in the water.

Toushiro restrained himself from rolling his eyes but followed similarly.  

“When ya reel the rod, keep the line taut. If you do it too quickly, the fish can break away and ya lose the line,” Shinji demonstrated by pulling taut the line of the string. The older captain was lounging in his chair, sleeves rolled up to the elbow and leg crossed over knee, the perfect pose of relaxation.

“If we rush,” Shinji continued, “we get ahead of ourselves—which only hurts in the long run.”

Toushiro found himself drifting back to the war in the sky as he stared at the ripples in the water. It had been years, but time only eased the pain—it did not erase it. Though they were high up in the clouds, fighting an invisible battle, at that moment it was a grounding in reality.

He had been younger, rash and naïve. He thought he could kill Soul Society’s traitorous felon.

He was gravely mistaken.

Toushiro despised Aizen with every aching bone in his body. But he loathed himself more for being goaded into swinging the first blade. Feeling rage boil into him, all he could see was red as he rushed at Aizen first.

“When did you get so wise?” Toushiro asked sarcastically. He pulled at the rod—nothing yet.

Shinji laughed shortly. “Years of exile—gives ya time to think.” He took a sip of coffee. “We tried many things, wore many hats—all to survive. And one of them was fishing.”

Shinji leaned over and stage whispered, “We weren’t exactly earning money in conventional ways,” he tightened the lock of the pole shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion, “so we learned new skills.”

“Unfortunately, Hiyori can’t sit still for a minute—so she was banned from all fishing trips,” Shinji explained with faux diplomacy.

With his brief interactions with the short woman, Toushiro was not surprised.

And back in the battle, she had paid for her rashness. Though they didn’t know each other, the enemy of an enemy was an ally—and in that moment he could feel blood run cold seeing her severed half fall through the sky. In the end, it was all a cruel reminder and prelude to his own downfall.

Shinji watched the tent captain, whose eyes were distant and out on the horizon. He had a feeling of what was going through the young man’s head. It reminded the older captain of a time, very soon after the first war had finished, that those eyes held a similar pain.

Shinji stifled a yawn as he headed back to the Fifth Division headquarters. It was late into the night and he had just returned from the World of Living. Kyoraku-soutaicho insisted on a channel of constant communication with the Vizards that were still in the living world, so he sent Shinji on diplomatic visits. But the blond captain knew that behind smiles and pleasant reason, it was just to keep aware of possible treachery. Though many of them were working for the Thirteen Division Guards, there was always some underlying suspicion.

Well—it didn’t bother him too much. It was an excuse to go to the Living World during working hours.

He opened the door and immediately wished he had arrived later.

The white-haired captain didn’t notice Shinij. He was standing behind Momo’s desk, who was fast asleep, a brush in her hands and head resting on paperwork. Shinji watched as the young boy placed a blanket over her shoulders, barely touching her, before shifting the candle flame away from her.

The lone light of the room casted dark shadows over Toushiro’s face, obscuring his eyes from Shinji.  

He looked up, and at the sight of the Fifth captain his teal eyes went wide, like a deer in headlights.

“Can I help you?” Shinji asked to cut the tension in the room.

And just like the flicker of the shadow, the tenth captain narrowed his eyes, the shock completely gone. “Are you working her late?”

Shinji wanted to roll his eyes but held back, knowing that probably wouldn’t bode well with the other captain. “No. I told her those could be finished tomorrow.”

Toushiro nodded, still holding his glare at Shinji. A moment of silence. “I dropped off the reports for you to sign,” he said shortly, which made Shinji think if it was deliberate the young captain came late, since those weren’t due for a couple days. Toushiro made his way towards the exit, arms tucked into his sleeves, leaving no more room for conversation.

“Aren’t ya going to Matsumoto’s party?” Shinji asked. The tenth division lieutenant had invited people to go out to drink to celebrate the news of Renjii and Rukia’s engagement.

The white-haired boy stopped. “No.” Toushiro looked over his shoulder. “It’d be better if I didn’t go.”

Shinji waited until he left before he made his way over to his vice-captain, gently shaking her awake.

“Hmm, Taicho?” she mumbled, sleep still evident in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask ya the same thing,” he responded, pulling the brush out of her hand. “C’mon—let’s take you home.”

Momo made no protest as she stood up, her short hair sticking out in various directions that reminded Shinji of a dry paint brush.

“Someone from tenth division dropped the reports over—you won’t have to go tomorrow morning to pick them up.”

“Oh okay…” Momo looked down, pursing her lips in confusion. “Taicho, did you put this over me?” She asked as she shifted the blanket, looking at it forlornly.

He looked at her, contemplating how much to say. “No, I didn’t.”

“…okay,” she said, sounding more awake but further away than before.

Seeing how her shoulders deflated, he gently led her up out of her seat. “How about we stop by to say hi at Matsumoto’s—and if ya don’t want to stick around, I’ll walk you back,” Shinji remarked as he blew out the candle.

For Shinji, who was returning to an old post after many years, he knew it wasn’t his place to be involved. He was just relearning the ropes with a new lieutenant following behind his back. Besides getting over the urge to resist looking over his shoulder, he and Momo were still learning to be in each other’s presence.

There were bumps in the road, of course. (He still never could forget the dubious look she gave him when he suggested to cut her hair—the first time that she had shown such strong disbelief outside of her usual polite diplomacy.) The beginning was just making sure not to step too far out of line with each other. But the line gradually faded, and they fell into a routine together. Now, he considered himself lucky to have a competent soldier like her working beside him.

A slight tug at the pole broke Shinji from his revere, pulling him forward at the edge of his chair.

“Look, look!”

Toushiro could only watch as Shinji steadily reeled in the line, the fish thrashing about and sending waves through the water. It slipped out of the water just as the sun broke the horizon, the scales of the fish glistening in a yellow glow.

“See—what’d I tell ya?” He grinning holding up the fish before depositing it in his bucket.

Toushiro looked to his own pole and pulled on it, but only string came with the bait missing from the hook.

“Well…we can’t be prodigies at everything,” Shinji said flippantly.

---

Toushiro didn’t know what sort of itinerary the Fifth Captain had for the day. The white-haired man was dragged to random locations around Karakura Town: the barber shop (“this is where I learned to cut hair!” Shinji pointed out while he sat for a quick trim), the hardware store (“Kensei needed a new grate for his BBQ” the blond man defended at Toushiro’s raised eyebrow), a bookstore (Toushiro looked away in embarrassment as Shinji picked up Yadamoru-taicho’s magazine subscription) and the post office (“Need to check my PO box if anything’s come in,” he claimed, peering in the box and pulling out a wad of bills). Shinji seemed to have a secret agenda because he kept on picking things up at small shops along the way. But if Toushiro hadn’t known better—it was as if the man were doing his errands for the day and just having him tag along.

The bell chimed as they entered an unassuming record store. There were rows of wooden boxes, teeming with layers of records. Faded posters were pasted on every inch of the wall to the point that one couldn’t recognize the original wall colour. An old man smiled warmly at them from behind the counter as Shinji greeted him like he were family.

“This is one of the greatest secrets in this town—the man, Jiro-san, knows every single thing about every record in this store,” Shinji said with distinct glee in his voice before starting to peruse the albums. “I try to bring Momo here every other month—to get new music for the office.”

Toushiro felt his interest pique. For the most part, he had remained silent for the day as Hirako had talked enough about random facts and snippets of his human life to fill the gap. Besides offering a few signs of acknowledgment, Toushiro was happy to have Hirako lead the conversation, so he didn’t have to.

But hearing Momo’s name reminded him that this man had a close relationship with her—and it started at the time that his own relationship with her was strained.

He remembered those initial childish feelings of jealousy, seeming to try to find fault in everything of the new captain. From his asymmetrical haircut to his unsettling smile and tongue piercing, Toushiro didn’t understand how such a sleazy looking character could lead a division, let alone bring Momo out from her lowest point. He knew that it wasn’t smooth in the beginning. But Toushiro watched from a distance as Momo seemed to brighten more and more until she was back to her cheerful self—now with the addition of brazenly admonishing her captain. He was in awe of how quickly she became confident but more so, how comfortable she was with this foreign character.

“How often did you come?” Toushiro asked, trying to not to show too much interest.

Shinji continued on as held an album up, inspecting its tracklist. “Well, Momo wasn’t initially a fan of listening to music in the office. But once I got her started on some Ella Fitzgerald, she started to dig it more. Now she sometimes comes on her own to get records. She’ll surprise me with her own choices—I tell ya’ she’s got an ear for talent. I even got her to agree to go to a jazz festival with the rest of us this summer.”

Toushiro had his back turned, looking down at the labels but not quite seeing their names.

“How did you get her to open up?”

Shinji raised an eyebrow, looking behind him to see the white-haired man staring intently at the music. If he hadn’t seen the rigidity of his back, it may have seemed normal.

Shinji sighed.

“I was just there,” he simply said. “I didn’t leave.”

He watched as the younger man tense up further, before briskly putting down the album and walking out of the store. “I’ll be outside,” Shinji heard called out before the ring of the bell chimed in the silence that ensued at the sudden departure.

Shinji wasn’t surprised, and looking back maybe he could have chosen his words better. But he knew this was something long brewing and coming. He pulled out his phone, typing out a quick text message, as he called out to the store owner. “Jiro-san, I’ll be taking these! You keep me informed of any new vinyl shipments when you get some! My daughter will pick them up.”

--

Shinji found him outside, sitting on the bench in the park, with his hands tucked deep into his jacket. The only signs of life were the soft white puffs of air that he breathed out from above his scarf. Shinji walked over, the grocery bags swinging against his knee and it was only when he was in front of the man that Toushiro seemed to come out of a daze. Toushiro wordlessly accepted the coffee Shinji offered before his turquoise eyes brightened in recognition at the packet in the older man’s other hand.

“Those are the ones that Matsumoto likes…”

Shinji sat down and opened the orange packet. “Yeah, these cookies are really addicting. I introduced them to Momo last time we visited the World of the Living and we haven’t stopped eating them. She must’ve given them to Matsumoto.” He gestured the open packet to the young man, who took the cookie quietly.

They drank their coffee in silence. The golden string lights around them began to flicker as the sky turned to dusk, and like clockwork, it lightly began to snow. Families emerged around the winter street food vendors, talking animatedly as young children ran around, leaving prints in the snow build up.

Shinji could tell Toushiro wanted to say something because his eyes would flit over to him and he’d open his mouth before closing it. But Shinji paid no mind and continued to drink his coffee. He was in no rush at all, he was just waiting for what he knew the young man would say.

“I was jealous of you,” Toushiro finally confessed in a low voice, “of how you were able to make her smile again. You picked her up—when I was the one that hurt her the most.”

Shinji knew there was hurt on both sides. It didn’t take a genius to know that while his lieutenant was adjusting to being back to work, there was still something missing. He could see it in her eyes every time she looked outside at the snow. When there were joint meetings, he would catch her looking towards the tenth company, her sad eyes following the young captain around.

“It wasn’t only me,” Shinji replied. “Matsumoto was always there. Kira & Renji too.” He paused and looked at him straight in the eyes. “But she really wasn’t her full self until you two reconciled.”

“Hirako…”

“Forget your self-pity parade—it’ll do ya no good,” Shinji said, not unkindly. “I’ve been there—it damn hurts, I know. But ya hurt the people you care about more with your absence than with your actions.”

Toushiro stared at Shinji as he took a long sip of coffee. “Get up and move on from your past mistakes; that’s what it means to be a man.” He found himself remembering the way he held Hiyori’s body in his hands, feeling like his world was on a precipice. Never had he ever felt in that moment, the strongest desire to reverse everything, to reverse time itself, before they had changed, before he had ruined their lives forever. It was only when she had hit him with his slipper at his bowed head, that he could see the stupidity in his own wallowing—something he had seen in the young captain too.

“But ya have to promise me one thing—you won’t leave her again,” Shinji spoke with such solemnity that Toushiro’s emerald eyes hardened in determination.

“I won’t.”

The blond man shrugged his shoulder. “Then ya don’t need to apologize to me for nothing.”

Toushiro regarded the man for a long time, before nodding in acceptance.

“Thank you Hirako…for everything.” He had said it so quietly that Shinji thought he almost imagined it.

He smiled in smug satisfaction. “I now give you permission to marry my daughter.”

The young captain scowled, his face turning dark like a thunder cloud. “She is not your daughter.”

“Regardless, you still have my permission,” Shinji waved away.

“Hiarko-taicho!”

The two captains turned to see the fifth division lieutenant running towards them through the crowd, her long hair flowing behind her. Shinji held back a smirk as he watched the young captain stare at the girl in her human clothes, a warm red coat on top of a white dress.

“Hitsugaya-taicho…? What are you doing here?” Momo asked, a furrow in her eyebrows as she looked in confusion between her boyfriend and captain. “I thought I was just meeting Hirako-taicho? You sent a text saying to dress up?”

Shinji applauded himself inwardly for the look on the young captain’s face was priceless.

Before he could say anything else, Shinji gently led his vice-captain away. “Momo, you finished all the reports right?”

“Yes, I made sure to do so, but Taicho why did you call me here?” She looked back at the 10th captain, biting her lip in concern. “Is everything alright with Hitsugaya-kun?”

He could feel the smile slide onto his face at the expression of worry on her face. “Nothing wrong at all—just some good man to man bonding.”

Momo raised an eyebrow dubiously at her captain to which he replied. “I played nice—don’t worry.” He ruffled her hair affectionately. “Go spend the rest of the evening with him. I’ll see you in office on Monday.”

She looked up, her brown eyes in question as she smoothed out her hair. “But what about working tomorrow?”

Shinji threw his thumb back and rolled his eyes in faux exasperation. “You’ve worked enough to take some time off. He’ll sulk if I don’t let you off.”

Momo broke out into a huge grin, her brown eyes twinkling like the glowing lights. “Really?” She paused, as if reconsidering. “But what about the other reports?”

“I’ll go and finish them—you’ve worked enough.”

“Thank you Taicho!” Momo beamed which made him ruffle her hair again as she protested. “You’ve picked a good one—he cares for you.” At this, Momo blushed until her face turned as red as her coat. “Thank you Taicho for agreeing to spend time with him,” she said earnestly. “It really means a lot to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “Ya owe me—I get to choose the music for the next two weeks!”

Momo flashed a brilliant smile. “You got a deal!”

Toushiro smiled as his girlfriend rushed back to him with a bounce in her steps. “I just got a text from Matsumoto saying she booked us a place for tonight? Did Hirako have anything to do about it?” He asked as he tightened the scarf around her neck that had come loose in her run.

“Hirako-taicho,” Momo corrected. “But yes, he said I can have the weekend off so we can spend time together in the human world! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Toushiro took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “Come on—let’s get out of here. There’s a bookstore I want to show you,” he said smiling as her eyes widened in glee, before jumping into a long set of questions on how his day was. And as he answered them, he thought that maybe it wasn’t that bad a day after all.

—

Authour’s Note: So, when I first received the prompt I had to think about it a lot because to be frank, I don’t think Toushiro would ever actually ask Shinji for Momo’s hand in marriage. I think Shinji would just appoint himself to give it hahaha (I also believe that it is referenced that Shinji refers to Momo as his daughter in the novel We do KNOT always love you. I’ll try to find the link soon and update it here)

I’m nervous with this one but I hope people at least enjoyed seeing how the two closest men to Momo see each other (and in a way respect each other) when it comes to her well-being. I definitely enjoyed writing Shinji! It gave me a reason to be antagonistic towards Toushiro in a playful manner but give advice in a straight forward, not unkind way. But I definitely think I still need to practice writing him. I also really enjoyed writing all his errands haha

Hope you enjoyed it!

[pinkhairedlily]

the warmest place in the world

SUMMARY:

I have said I love you. You have said I love you too. The grand climax is over. The tumultuous journey is past and we have arrived in calm waters. It's mundane, ordinary, and silent. But between us, each day, in silent, smallest declarations, we still say, I love you. I love you. I love you.

(in which Hitsugaya and Hinamori are married)

gift for @ryomaunnie 🎁🎄 | @hitsuhina-week

a/n: sorry this got delayed so much!!! i hope i gave justice to your prompt of hh married/domestic life 🥺 belated happy holidays to the community. may you thrive and heal and live gently this 2023 🤍

Hinamori Momo was a winter bride.

One would think it was an inadequate choice; she was always bright and sunny, the very manifestation of a summer’s day.

But warmth has always been indispensable to the cold.

Like her to him. The love of his life. The fire to his ice. His red thread of fate.

She said I do to him under the curtain of snow, and Hitsugaya kissed his wife’s red button nose.

He kisses it all the same on slow mornings when the sun creeps on the Seiretei horizon, limbs all splayed out on the cotton covers, chasing shadows in the crook of each other’s embrace.

He touches it on nights he captures her lips and lets himself melt all over. Momo is my wife, he tells himself as she settles against his chest. Momo is my wife, he repeats again when he wakes up with her hair on his cheeks. Momo is my wife, like a prayer that came true.

— — —

“Which side of the bed do you want, Shiro?” Momo asks as she surveys the bare room. On one side, the window shares the view of the overgrowth. Rose vines and yellow bells fight for space on sparse earth while poison ivy rests comfortably on the concrete walls of the house. It will take some time to tame their backdoor wilderness, but Hitsugaya can see that it would be a beautiful garden in the care of her hands.

“I’ll take the one facing the wall Momo.”

A smile grows from his statement. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

"No take backs."

He smirks. "I don't do that."

"You'll roll me over!"

He holds up a pinky. She always made him do this when they were younger. "Promise. Stop being so insufferable. You're so cute when you're adamant."

"Ugh, so sappy all of a sudden." She giggles — that's all he wants to hear really — and laughter fills the crevices of the old house.

Under the futon that night, surrounded with boxes both closed and halfway open, Momo stares out the curtainless window to the unobstructed view of the full moon. She falls asleep after the fifth shooting star.

Meanwhile, Hitsugaya has the perfect perspective of her face; how she surrenders to the drowse, how her breathing evens out, and how she smiles in her dreams. Not all nights are like this.

Sometimes, the dreams are nightmares.

And he refuses to touch her in the aftermath.

He can vividly feel his hand — Hyourinmaru — go through her chest. His quickening pulse matches the spewing blood from her body. When it's emptied, there's a hollow instead of where her heart should be.

He goes frigid, his own pulse also frozen in shock, despair, some kind of indescribable grief. Then he jolts out of that plane when he feels her, the present her, draw his arm around her body. Calm and steady, her . In between the void and wakefulness, she forgives him.

Figures lost in crowd, that's what they look like on market days. She reaches out to him in the sea of bodies, intertwining his fingers with hers. It's a mindless gesture for Momo, but Hitsugaya feels tethered.

His hand in her. His soul is anchored.

———

"Tadaima."

10:07. Hitsugaya left Karakura around that time. Ichigo is boisterous, the usual, but even more so with the second addition to their family.

They broke the news over Orihime's okonamiyaki. A hefty dash of Ichigo's tears made it into the cooking. She made sure to pack portions for Hinamori.

Who happens to be burning her own okonamiyaki in the kitchen.

"Ah. I messed it up." She's near tears. "Did you have dinner yet, Shiro?"

He places the package on the counter and wounds his arm around her waist. She curls further into herself, sobs on the verge of escaping every limb, but he holds her close and whispers into her ear. "Yeah you burned it but I think it's still edible."

Still entangled with her, he samples a small part from the smoking brown concoction on the stove. Placid reaction gives way to strong grimace. "See, edible."

Momo groans. "I hate you Shiro."

"I love you Momo." His laughter resounds against her untangled hair. Smooth, flowing strands shaking as sobs transform into fits of amusement.

She faces him after a while. "Did you bring earth food?"

He nods. "It's not your favorite pizza, but Orihime's cooking is better than most."

"What did she cook?"

"Okonomiyaki." Her face falls flat from the sudden reminder of her failure. It disappears from his view when he pulls her in for a tight embrace.

Like earlier, his voice travels through her strands, wind to the leaves, water to sand, "Listen. You may not perfect every dish. You may mess up some things. You may not know how to repair the heater. Or keep planks straight when you hammer them in. Dogs may not like you. But you brew the best tea and coffee. You knit the warmest scarves. You sow the most beautiful flowers. The cats love to rub against you. You are my wife and I love you for all that you are."

"You talk so much," she groans against his shoulder. "I'm just hungry."

They laugh again, just as easily.

———

"Good... morning, taichou."

Normally, it would be Matsumoto slumped against Hitsugaya's shoulders, but on rare occasions that he would go drinking with Shinji (forced really) and his circle, Hitsugaya would always, always, return home intoxicated beyond his limits.

And her captain would always, always, bring this drunken stupor to her doorstep.

Even when they were still branding themselves as childhood best friends ("Of course, we would look out for each other.") When they were sidestepping the line that separates friendly concern to affection. A series of drunken declarations when he thought she was asleep, forgotten in the wake of the mornings as he casually slipped, unaffected, nonchalant, almost stoic from her quarters. ("Do you know, Momo, that I like you? I like you. I like you very, very, very much. I don't know what to do with these feelings. Momo, how do I tell you?") When they thought it was their best, well-kept secret in Soul Society. ("Way to announce you're mine, Shiro, banging on my door like that at 2 AM, calling me your darling?!") It was the best, well-shared secret.

"Hirako, you dumbassss. Why did you bring me to Momo? I'm a mess, look at me," Hitsugaya drawls over his words.

"Don't puke on her when you kiss, all right." Shinji winks at his lieutenant and bids adieu effectively in the dead silence of the night.

"I'm not gonna kisssss yew." Hitsugaya raises his palm and slaps it across his chest. "I am a good sssenpai. And a taichou. And I will not take advantage of yew."

"Shut up and go inside already."

He spots the gold band when she pulls his arm. He's sniffling by the time he makes it to their kitchen.

"Why did I wait so long?"

"Wait to come home?" Hinamori patiently goes through the same motions he does when she's drunk. Boil water. Brew some tea. Sober up.

"Wait to tell you I love you." His sniffles are louder, close to sobbing. "I've always wanted you to be my wife. Gods, I'm so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"I won't disagree with you on this." This happens every time, and each repeat just makes her fonder of him.

And yes, more annoyed.

But he's endearing when he's moping so he gets a pass.

He clutches her hand tightly. "Is he a good man? Does he love you more than I do? Are you happy?"

Hinamori leans in closer to his space. From this distance, she can smell the alcohol mingling with fresh pine and snow she associates him with. Her palms cup his drooping, tear-stricken face.

"He is a good man that loves me so much and makes me happy every day. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Then she kisses him as he does on nights she doubts his love. A seal of sorts, a magic touch that dispels the stormy clouds, a kiss.

"Momo, you're a married woman."

"And you're my husband, Hitsugaya-taichou."

———

The snipping of scissors molds with the hummingbirds perched on the blossoming dogwood.

Silver specks litter the hardwood floor. Momo's barefoot protrudes through the strands, his shoulders as her balance.

Her tongue peeks out in concentration as she trims the lengthened threads. It's easy to fall asleep on this cool, spring day while her fingers conduct an orchestra with his hair.

"Do you want an undercut?"

"Please don't make me look like Ichigo or Renji."

"Kira and Yumichika said it's fashionable."

"So why don't they say that to Byakuya?"

"Byakuya has a distinct style."

"And I don't? I'm offended."

"I think you look good in any hair."

"That's what wives say."

She brandishes a mirror in front of him. A relieved sigh leaves him when he sees no noticeable changes. "Great job, Ms. Hinamori. I'll give you a tip."

She kneels in front of him and rests her head on his lap. Her hair falls like waves on the side of his leg. Untangled in her braid, it's a shiny mane. They slip when he twirls his finger around them. "Cut my hair too, Shiro."

"Rukia-style? Or Yumichika?"

"Just don't shave me."

Cut hairs all gone and away and napes exposed to the blossom breeze, they spend the fading afternoon in the awning of the garden. Momo is asleep in his arms, her face dotted with pink petals, and the leaves playing across her features.

Hitsugaya mindlessly traces circles on her arm, navigating to her stomach where a shawl is splayed over. She knitted this some shinigami years ago and the fabric seems to call for his touch. To trace the same shape over and over until he feels the indentation. The slight slope he might miss in passing.

Adrift petals lay their rest right where his hand stopped orbiting.

"Momo?"

She only smiles and places her hand over his, flowers blooming in between the spaces of their fingertips.

"Shiro?"

His throat is heavy. "I'm gonna be a good father." He kisses the crown of her head, and they snuggle closer until twilight takes over the sky.

———

Fireflies are luminescent under the bridge. The river murmurs in the dark, continuing their voyage to the sea with the green attraction fading in their reflection, a memory drowned.

Momo wanted to rest. Rukia warned her about sore feet and wonky legs in the last few months of the pregnancy.

Hitsugaya would have wanted to carry her back home, if she let him. He's sulking from her stubbornness.

"It's peaceful tonight." Momo breathes in the changing summer air. Autumn has started to dispel its first notes.

"It's peaceful," Hitsugaya echoes. He embraces her from behind, his hands crossed like a prayer over her stomach. "I'm glad it's peaceful."

"But what if there's war again?"

It's not as if Hitsugaya hadn't thought of this already. It haunted his nights. It's a possibility on the back of his head when he attends council meetings, signs paperworks, reads reports. Always on the lookout for the first triggers.

It's a hard thing to keep — peace.

"Then there's another reason to fight for." But sometimes, it comes by easy. "For now, this is peace to me."

The fireflies steer towards their direction. Alight and luminous, their reflections are carried by the currents, a memory in voyage.

———

"Cold!!!!" Hanami bolts through the door. A child around five with brown hair covered in snow and teal irises that are so honest and bare and earnest. There's unbridled happiness in her eyes.

"Can you at least tone down that blush whenever you come home from Byakuya's estate?" Hitsugaya sighs.

"That's because of cold, Shiro," Momo reasons out from the kitchen.

"He made me tea, Papa!"

"As he does to all his guests?"

"No! It's the special tea!" She sticks out her tongue at her father while she quickly shrugs off her outerwear. Then her little feet urgently pad off to settle beside him in the kotetsu. "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry Uncle Byakuya!"

"He's old, Hana-chan."

"No, he's not! He's still handsome!"

"You have poor taste in men, my silly girl."

Momo sweeps into the room with a tray of tea. "That's too bad. You don't have room for Mama's special tea?"

"I have, Mama. The snow outside evaporated the tea earlier." She pats the little space beside her. "Sit Mama! It's cold!"

Lulled in drowse by tea, the family lies side by side on the floor, legs all tangled up under the kotatsu, as the snowstorm builds to a precipice outside.

"Did you enjoy painting with Byakuya?" Hitsugaya asks the growing babe on his shoulder.

Hanami nods. "He was worried I'd get snowed in."

Momo blows raspberries on Hanami's hair. "Was it cold, Hana-chan?"

"Very! He made me wear another coat. It was difficult to walk." She mimics shaking terribly but only ends up laughing. It's contagious, feeling the giggles travel the course of her skin and limbs, and unto her parents.

"Papa never gets cold, right Mama?" Hanami places her hand over their entangled fingers on her stomach.

"No, he never does."

"Are you cold right now, Hana-chan? Do you want me to move away?" Hitsugaya almost shifts out of their hold, but his daughter plants him to his side.

"Silly Papa! You're always so warm." Her button nose red from the cold, and her cheeks flushed pink, Hanami pulls her parents closer to her. "This is the warmest place in the world."

[hitsuhina-week]

Start posting for the Hitsuhina Gift Exchange!

Don't forget to tag the person you created a gift for or message them with a link to their gift! Also include in your tags on the post 'hitsuhina gift exchange 2022'.

For any late submissions, the person you're creating a gift for has been notified. If you think your submission will be late, please let me know asap!

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

To Shine Brightly

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 1: Academy Days / Fireworks

Rating: K

Setting: in the past, during Momo's last year at the Academy and Toshiro's only year.

Synopsis: Toshiro has an epiphany

AN: It's that time for the year again! Starting my submissions off with a short and sweet one. Hope you all enjoy it!

______________________________________

“What are you still doing here?”

Toshiro had detected Momo before she came into the library. He’s proud to have developed the ability to sense reiatsu this early on in his studies, but he doesn’t show this as he glances from the book in front of him to her. “Studying.”

In his peripheral, Momo gestures to a nearby window. “It’s almost night time.”

“I’m not a child, bed-wetter,” he says dryly. “I go to bed at the same time as everyone else.”

He doesn’t have to look to know her face screws up at the mention of the dreaded nickname. “That’s not what I meant, Shiro-chan.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to resist the urge to retort back. He flips a page of the book, only pretending to read it now. So much for using his name once he got into the Academy.

Momo lets out a sigh at his lack of a response. “What I meant was that the fireworks will be starting soon.”

He blinks. “Fireworks?”

 “You haven’t heard?” At his silence, Momo is quick to explain, “There’s a festival happening in the North First District. We’re going to watch the fireworks from the main courtyard. They’ll be starting soon, so we have to hurry.”

“Why not just go to the festival? And what do mean by ‘we’?”

“Shiro-chan! You know we can’t do that!”

He finally raises his head and levels a glare at her. He isn’t sure if he’s more annoyed by the nickname or the admonishing tone of her voice. “As if some students don’t.”

Momo sighs. “Of course some do, but we’re not.”

It’s not for a lack of money, Toshiro is ware, but more so the early hours she and the students in her class have to rise at. Momo has alays been a hard worker, studious in her studies and giving it her all in classes. She also liked schedules, and she wouldn’t dare go against it if their teachers are enforcing it. He’s surprised she’d even want to go something like this when she has classes tomorrow.

“Again, what do you mean by ‘we’?” he asks.

Momo looks a little taken aback. “Well…I just thought you’d want to come and watch them too.”

“It’s just explosions in the sky.”

“But you liked the fireworks back in the Junrinan.”

“When I was younger.”

“We both know that’s not true. How come you don’t want to come watch these ones?”

“I have to study.”

Momo finally comes to stand beside the desk he uses. “I can understand that, but also need a break. Kira-kun said he saw you studying late into the night here just last week.”

Toshiro glares down at the book. He remembered the encounter, as brief as it was. Izuru had been returning a book back to it’s shelf – the one just behind him right now in fact – and the two had exchanged pleasantries. What business was it his to tell her what he’s up to?

“They’ve moved me to the advanced classes. I need to catch up to be on the same level as everyone else.”

“You…You got transferred?” Her surprise fizzles to confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It only happened two weeks ago.”

“But we’ve seen each other during that time.”

“For less than a minute.”

“Still!” She glances out a nearby window, the sky now dark. “We don’t have time for this! Come on, Shiro-chan, you need a break. Besides, it’s been a while since you last saw any fireworks, right?”

That pleading look, the one that somehow makes her eyes bigger. Does she even realise she’s doing it? He tightens the frown in his brow and lips, trying to resist. He did like fireworks, and it had been a while since he saw a display. At her frantic look from the window again to the library’s exit, he sighs and closes the book. “If you promise to not call me that dumb nickname for the rest of the night, I’ll come.” He knows he can’t ask her to never call him the nickname ever again, because even if she agreed to it, something never change.

He stands. “Let me return this first.”

She grins. “Of course!”

He thinks to chatise her for being loud, but there’s no one else here. She follows him as he returns the book back to it’s shelf, as soon as he’s pushed back in, she grabs his arm and leads the way out in hurried steps.

Outside, several students are also rushing towards the main courtyard.

“I hope they don’t start until we get to the courtyard!” Momo says.

“What does it matter? We’ll be able to seem them from here.”

“You know it’s better to see them when they cover the whole sky!”

He hears the gathered crowd before he sees them in the courtyard. Momo slows her run to a speed walk and leads them in between groups of smiling and laughing students. There’s even a few teachers, gathered on the outer edges of the groups of students; they’re in good spirits too.

“Where are they?” Momo says, standing on her tippy toes to look over everyone’s heads. “Abarai-kun is tall enough that I can usually see him.”

It’s only seconds later when they hear, “Yo, Hinamori!”

Momo points in the direction of the call. “That’s Abarai-kun!” She tugs Toshiro along. So far, no has spared him a glance, but that seems to be per usual around the Academy. He stood out in the Junrinan, was the object of derision and fear, but here, he was just like most other students. Some even had white hair like him. Even so, being within such a large gathering makes him oddly anxious.

Renji and Izuru come into view, both waving at Momo.

Izuru blinks when he sees Toshiro. “Oh, Hitsugaya-san, you came too.”

Renji looks bewildered to see him. “Getting your head out of those books for the night?”

Toshiro grumbles under his breath. Had Izuru told Renji too? “And you should get your head into them.”

“Shi-!” Momo stops herself, just barely. “I mean, Hitsugaya-kun!”

Oh, so that’s how it sounds. He’s thankful it’s dark, because if the heat rising up to his face has coloured it pink, Momo and Renji would never let it down. So caught up in hearing her same his name, he hadn’t even heard her lecture or Renji’s retort.

Before he can say anything, the students around them erupt into cheers, and then there’s an explosion. All four of them turn to look at the sky, now doused in glittering red. The confrontation is gone. The cheers quieten by the next firework flying into the sky, and everyone watches on in mostly silence, with someone making a comment every now and then.

Toshiro watches colors collide and complement each other, take the shapes of animals and stars and circles. The rise, with a shirk, then explode into a wide radius, glittering so brightly that their after image remains when he closes his eyes even after their colour starts to fade. It’s not long before another takes it’s place, and a new afterimage pastes itself over the previous one.

Again and again, and somehow, it’s still beautiful to watch something short lived fly into the sky, burst into something brilliant and bright, and fade away.

He manages to look away form the display to Momo. She grins from ear to ear and her eyes are wide in wonder. She says something to Izuru, and he nods in response, briefly glancing at her and his smile widening when she giggles at whatever he said. Toshiro almost rolls his eyes, but he's transfixed by the way the fireworks light her in the darkness. They colored her in pink, then green, then blue, then in red and yellow at the same time.

Maybe this is why she went against her usual schedule for today. She knew a moment like this doesn’t last forever; it can fade just as quickly as a firework. She works hard, but she also knows the life they’ve chosen could lead to a quick end compared to most Souls. One needs to shine as brightly as they can, for as short a time as they may have in this world.

But maybe it’s only him, and she only came because she likes seeing fireworks with her friends.

Regardless, if his life to be shortened due to his decision to come to the Academy, and he knows he’ll be with her to watch as many firework displays as he can.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Fic: 4 a.m. bloom

[Read on AO3]

Characters: Hinamori (POV), Hitsugaya Timeline: 4 months into Hinamori's vice-captaincy Word Count: ~6700 Tags: Pre-series, Rukongai, Junrinan lore, Shinigami/zanpakutou bond, I will continue to reify condor!Tobiume at every opportunity, Eldercare, For the sake of soul society, Gotei melancholia Notes: Written for @pinkhairedlily for the 2023 @hitsuhina-week Gift Exchange, combining the prompts “hinamori embracing leadership roles in her division” and “momo character study with a sprinkle of toshiro”! <3 (Though there are probably at least 4 tablespoons of Hitsugaya in this, rather than a spinkle.) I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Another homecoming. Hinamori recognizes that lieutenancy is more a beginning than an achievement, but some missions make that clearer than others. Tobiume is blooming, Hinamori has work to do in Junrinan, and Hitsugaya has some difficult questions for her.

Hitsugaya is a difficult question.

--

“I miss this,” she says, even though she hadn’t meant to. Then she has to ask, “Do you?”

“I don’t live here anymore, either,” Hitsugaya says.

Hinamori does not know whether that means of course or stop.

[little-queen-pink-blog]

Recuerdad que ingrese a un reto Hitsuhina?

Pues aqui la imagen que pude realizar. No es mucho, pero mi tableta a estado fallando :(

Incluso vatalle para pintar esto, porque el cursor se quedaba trabado <\3

Cambiando de tema:

Esta imagen la hice basada en la pelicula de bleach, donde Toshiro "renuncia" a la sociedad de almas. Me gustaria aver visto a Hinamori reaccionar a la desaparicion de toshiro.

Bueno aqui mi interpretacion de como seria ese momento. :D

Me toco regalarle a esta personita: @berbaric

Here's a link to berbaric's blog: https://berbaric.tumblr.com/

Mil gracias a la organizadora de este reto:

@rays-of-fire-and-ice