#hitsuhina fanfiction

[summercreolefanfictioner]

finally updated chap 2 of my hitsuhina fic 🥰🥹

here's the link:

you're all welcome

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

An Unwavering Light - Chapter One

Rating: T/Teen for violence (in certain chapters), coarse language, and mature themes, including ones about trauma and depression.

Setting: begins before the confrontation with Aizen and co. in Fake Karakura Town arc, and goes from there to the manga's end.

Music to listen to: Swan Song by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Compassion by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify) Recollection I (YT | Spotify), II (YT | Spotify), and III (YT | Spotify) by Shiro Sagisu, Spiritual Bond by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Here to Stay by Shiro Saigsu (YT | Spotify), and Ceremony Commences by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify).

Synopsis: During the confrontation against Aizen, the unthinkable happens. For Hitsugaya, a vow is broken, and for Hinamori, her future is unknown. With everything in shambles, how can they piece their lives back together? Or their bond?

AN: And so it begins. This has been years in the making, starting very close to when I first read BLEACH. Thank you to everyone who voted in my last poll, where the story of Toshiro and Momo's reconciliation was the winner.

For those who haven't been following me, this fic is primarily about how Toshiro and Momo reconcile after Aizen's defeat. While this will be a chaptered story, I aim to write most of these chapters as though they could be standalone fics, so if you haven't reach the previous chapter, you hopefully don't feel out of the loop.

This story will be a long one (at this stage, I’ve planned for about 20 chapters, but we’ll see how we go) and is based on this massive list of headcanons I wrote last year. It will include scenes from other fics I’ve written (and were inspired by/based on the headcanon list to an extent) but either from another character’s perspective or changed in some ways.

This first chapter was a hard one to write. I have never really explored what happened to Hinamori in the months leading up the Fake Karakura Town arc, but I knew it would involve coming to terms with her trauma and accepting, in part, that Aizen was not the man she thought. It would also involve her having to find the strength to go confront him on the battlefield. I hope I did her justice in this chapter.

Finally, the figurines Hinamori has in her room are based on these dolls from Usaburo.

With all of that out of the way, let's get started! I hope you all enjoy this!

Disclaimer: BLEACH and it’s character’s belong to Tite Kubo.

Next chapter >>

_____________________________

She was surrounded by darkness. She turned – or at least, thought she’d moved to turn – to search around her. She open her mouth to speak to the void around her, but heard no voice come from her throat. There was nothing to feel, hear, smell or see.

Has she done it right? The instructor had warned her she may not get there until another few attempts.

Then, after a blink, something small and bright sprun to life. Even from the long distance she stood at, she knew it was flames, resembling a campfire. She frowned when she couldn’t see any wood or kindling burning, the fire simply burning on it’s own.

She’d always been wary of fire, especially when it was not one within a firepit or a lantern, but she knew in her gut this one was not like others. When the voice comes form the flames, a whisper that gradually becomes a call, she stepped towards it.

_________________________________________

The curtains flutter in the gentle breeze, brushing over the windowsill in slow, undulating waves. Outside, one the division’s zanjutsu instructors yells commands at those in his class, nearly obscuring the chirping of a nearby bird and the chattering of officers that pass by underneath the window.

Hinamori listens to all of this and watches the shadows of the curtains dance across her quilt. There’s something hypnotic about it, almost meditative.

She wants to stay in this trance, be lost in it for a few moments longer. Her head is heavy, but empty for once. She doesn’t let any particular thought stick or take hold, just lets it be vague and pass by until it fades, like the afterimage of a bright streak of light.

But one thought persists. A memory, too recent and fresh to forget. She let’s it go by, but it keeps coming back, trying to get her attention.

It’s a minute later when a leaf blows in, landing on the quilt, just below her knees. She frowns at it, and her furrow only deepens when another joins it. They’re different shades; one a golden brown, the other flame red. Autumn is here, but it only felt like summer yesterday.

She tries following the curtains’ shadows again, but the leaves broke her concentration, and the memory creeps closer and closer, until it’s all she reflects on.

Hitsugaya’s face comes to mind, eyes wide and lips parted, speechless at first. It had been the first time she’d properly seen him in weeks – not in streaks of color while rushing at him with her sword raised, or at a distance while following him to Central Forty-Six. Ad she's stood before the screen, sorrow and guilt had outweighed the small flutter of gratitude that he didn’t turn his back on her. The way his expression had softened to one of concern, it makes her heart ache just as much now as it did then.

He cared, even after everything she did against him, he cared.

When he’d told her, in his own way, that an apology for her actions wasn’t needed, she’d never felt so relieved in all her life. She wouldn’t blame him for not forgiving her, but she didn’t know what she’d do if he hadn’t. She dreaded the idea of them growing apart and becoming strangers to each other.

She’d never thought of a life without Hitsugaya, as if somehow he would always be there until the very end.

But then, she’d never thought of a life without Aizen either.

And it was this same way of thinking that had led her to asking Hitsugaya to not kill her captain – former captain, she tries to correct. Her request had broken what little peace there’d been between them, and she’d become so lost in trying to justify it to him and to herself she doesn’t remember how Hitsugaya’s face looked, nor did she notice Yamamoto cast hakufuku on her. When she next awoke, it was in her room, with Isane at her side.

With a deep breath in, one that lifts her shoulders and chest, some of that weight in her head shifts, coming forward to make her neck crane forward. She had been granted an opportunity to make things right, and she had wasted it.

Yet, for all of her guilt for her actions against Hitsugaya and others, and for the shame of losing control in front of the Captain Commander, she can’t shake off the belief Aizen never meant for any of this.

Someone had to be controlling him, or something must have overcome him and compelled him to turn his back on all of them. She knew him. She had been by side for most of the time she was his lieutenant. He had told her things some of the other officer never knew – his favorite books, about the house he grew up in, memories of his student years at the Academy, even his favorite stalls in the Junrinan. Surely he would never do something so harsh without a good reason. He’d always said that to fight for something right and good you sometimes had to go against the laws set up others, after all.

But it doesn’t stop it from making it right that he'd left her behind. How could he have left Fifth Division behind? Why had he?

A knock breaks her reverie. Her throat is coarse from heavy breathing, and her hands on verge of cramping from clutching her quilt.

“It’s Funai-kun and I, Lieutenant,” comes Takagaki’s voice from behind her door.

Hinamori shakes her head and clears her throat, trying to take out the nerves out of her tone. Then, she manages to lift her lips into a smile. “Come in.”

Takagaki slides the door open, allowing Funai to walk in with Hinamori's lunch on a tray. Both are Fifteenth seat in the Fifth Division. If they saw any of her previous anxiety, they didn’t betray it with their own polite smiles.

“I hope we didn’t disturb you,” Takagaki says, trailing into the room.

Hinamori shakes her head. “It’s all right, I was getting a little peckish actually.”

“Guess we came just in time,” Funai chuckles. “Takagaki-san here made your meal today.”

Takagaki looks away, a slight flush colouring her cheeks. “I’m not a great cook, not like others in the Division. I hope it tastes okay.”

“I’m sure it’ll taste great,” Hinamori reassures. “You’ve been taking lessons from Hanae-san from Tenth Division, right?”

Both Funai and Takagaki blink at that.

“Y-Yes,” Takagaki eventually answers. “It’s been me and a group of other seated officers. He’s taught us a lot since we started.” Her smile returns, now thoughtful. “Um…thank you for remembering, Lieutenant.”

Hinamori’s lips widen into a grin. She tries to remember small things about her subordinates, and she at least still has that ability with her now.

Takagaki nods to Funai. “I better get back to the kitchens. I’ll leave the rest to you.” Then, she bows to Hinamori. “I hope you enjoy your lunch, Lieutenant Hinamori. Please let me know if there’s anything not to your liking.”

“I doubt that will be the case. Thank you for preparing my meal.”

After Takagaki leaves the room and Funai starts to lower the tray, a stronger gust of wind blows through. It gives him pause; then, he spies the leaves. “Apologies, Lieutenant, I didn’t see them until now.”

“It’s all right. The wind is pretty strong, I suppose,” Momo offers lamely. “I should’ve picked them up before."

Funai only chuckles nervously and puts the tray on top of her set of drawers. He picks up the leaves and throws them back outside, then goes to lean forward and close the windows.

Hinamori raises a hand. “No, allow me. I should’ve done this earlier.” She pulls the quilt aside and angles over to the window. While pushing the curtains aside and closing the windows, she tries to ignore the disquiet stare boring into the back of her head. It’s as though she is a fragile vase, at risk of tipping over.

He’s being kind, she chastises to herself, he cares about you. Everyone here does.

Windows closed, she sits back again and Funai visibly relaxes.

“How is everyone?” Hinamori asks, trying to distract both herself and him. “I could hear one of the instructors out there before. Sounds like he’s working everyone hard.”

Funai retrieves her lunch and lays the tray over her lap. “He certainly is. Everyone is keen to learn, of course.” He shrugs. “Otherwise, it’s business as usual. I’m sure Isawa-san could fill you in on more details.”

Hinamori nods. After giving thanks for the meal, she takes up the chopsticks. “Have you been drawing or painting lately?”

The answering smile is similar to Takagai’s one from earlier. “Ah, no, not recently. I haven’t found much inspiration lately.”

Hinamori frowns while taking up a heap of rice. “I hope it’s not because of work.”

“Oh, no! Of course not!” The nervous edge to his voice says otherwise. “It’s just a dry time for my art, that’s all. I’ll find a bit of inspiration at when I have time, you know how it is.”

It takes everything within Hinamori to not let her mind wonder to the implication he’d unintentionally brought up. Still, her gaze briefly darts to the sketchbooks lining the bottom shelf of her bookcase. Something flickers across Funai's face, akin to a look of horror, but at her unfaltering smile, he manages to hide it with a clearing of his throat and looking off to the side. “A-Anyway, I’ll leave you be. I’m sure you’ll want to eat in peace, and I have to find Hirose-chan.”

Hinamori blinks at the honorific. Had they gotten closer? She has to resist the urge to grin, the previous pang of darkness falling back, while picking up a tamagoyaki. “Her gardening group, I suppose?”

“Yeah, just maintenance this time.” He gestures to the window. “Being autumn and all, not many plants we can put in the ground, I guess. Not that I know much about gardening.”

Hinamori chuckles. “That is for Hirose-san to know.” She bows her head at the same time he does. “Thank you for bringing me lunch. Please tell Takagaki-san it’s delicious.”

“I will.”

“And…”Hinamori raises her head. “I hope you find inspiration soon. Please remember to not strain yourself with work.”

Funai gives a tense nod. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Hinamori watches him leave, not returning to her meal until the door closes. She’s lost her appetite, but doesn’t want to leave the dishes empty. With the window closed, the orders of the zanjutsu instructor are muffled, the wind swooshes against the walls, and save for her chewing and the clinking over chopsticks to bowls and plates, all is silent in her room.

It leaves her with nothing to do by ruminate, and that all too familiar heavy haze sets back into her head.

__________________________________

You do not need pity.

The room is dark save for a thin beam of moonlight cast on the wall. It had been silent until now, and Hinamori can’t remember what she’d been thinking about for the last few hours.

She twists on to her left side, facing Tobiume. Her zanpakuto is propped up against the wall, next to her set of drawers, the hilt shining dully.

 It’s coming from a good place, Hinamori responds. They mean well, and they care.

Even so, pity is not what you need, Tobiume argues. They should see you as the leader now that he’s gone.

A pang runs through Hinamori’s chest. Even the implication of him hurts. I’m not fit to lead.

Because you haven’t done anything to change things! Simmering heat radiates of the blade. We need to do something, or else we’re stuck here!

“I know I should! You don’t have to…” Her eyes burn with the threat of tears. Tobiume has been more temperamental than usual in the last few days. You’re angry with me.

The heat falters, and gradually cools to a warmth like that off a candle. No, I’m not. I want to see you get better.

Hinamori sighs. Pushing her quilt aside, she slides out of bed and kneels before her weapon. She ignores how much effort all of her movements seem to take, as if someone had tied weights to her limbs.

“I’m sorry it’s taking me so long,” she rasps. “I want to get better, but I don’t know how. It’s all so confusing.” She stares down at her knees, her forehead almost touching Tobiume’s scabbard. “You’ve always been there for me, and I take it for granted.”

You’re stronger than you realise, master. Do not doubt your skills.

Hinamori shuts her eyes and remains silent. It feels like everything she had learned and improved on is gone, vanished like Aizen. It's as if he took them with him, and all that is left within her is everything weak.

This is why you do not need pity. You risk stewing in it. If you continue to lie here, your mind and skills will grow dull, but they’ll never vanish. You’re strong, and you can always be stronger, but you are still strong. You need to show them you are not broken.

Hinamori sighs wryly. “It wouldn’t be the truth though. How can I be strong when all I want is for everything to back to what it was before?”

And with that she stands and returns to her bed. Tobiume is silent for the rest of the night.

__________________________________

Aizen is always in her dreams. Sometimes they start with him as the benevolent captain she knew, then he morphs into the cold figure that stood over her while she bled out. Other time, he has morphed into something monstrous, grinning at her and telling her she’ll never leave him, that she’s too devoted to him.

Waking from these nightmares becomes less of a shock with each one.

__________________________________

“The gardens are looking great.”

Genji raises his head from the paperwork he holds. “Hm?”

Hinamori points out the window to the next courtyard over. “I’m guessing that’s Hirose-san and her group’s work. It looks like they removed some plants and trimmed the bushes.”

Genji smirks. “It took quite a bit of effort. I may have been dragged into it too.”

Hinamori chuckles for the first time in weeks. “She has a way of pulling us into it, doesn’t she?”

Setting aside her longing to be with her division members with a sigh, she turns back to Genji. Ever since she began her recovery, he would visit every few days, sometimes bringing her a meal, other times just to check in on her and converse about casual going-ons  happening around the division.

Today, however, she couldn’t help but be hopeful when he entered with the documents in hand. “Did you need me to look over those papers?”

“No,” Genji says, shaking his head with too much vigor. “These are just my notes from today’s Lieutenant’s meeting. I believe you should know what was discussed.”

“Oh…” Again, she has to set aside her disappointment, this time with a forced smile. “Then, please tell me.”

Genji shifts the chair – a new piece of furniture that’d come not long after it was decided she needed to rest and recover in her room -- closer to Hinamori’s bed and tilts the documents for both of them to see. As he speaks, he points to the relevant lines for her to read. “We have been asked to take on more surveillance in our jurisdiction. Given recent…events, the Captain Commander felt it was best to maintain a watchful eye over all areas of the Soul Society and World of the Living to ensure the Arrancars don’t breach any of the recent kido defenses we’ve put up.”

Hinamori frowns. “These numbers…he wants more than half of the Division’s performing these duties.”

Genji only nods.

“But what if they’re needed for…?” The thought of the impending conflict makes her stomach churn.

Genji sighs through his nose. “There hasn’t been any intel from Twelfth Division about when that battle may be. They still predict it will occur in winter.”

Hinamori presses her lips together, and in the silence, tries to banish the memory of her asking Hitsugaya to not kill Aizen. She tries to understand why this strategy bothers her, as though something were missing. No, as though something were being kept away from her. “We have to be prepared by then. The zanjutsu and kido lessons won’t be enough.”

Genji’s shoulder tense a fraction. He doesn’t meet her gaze as she says, “Yes, of course, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, no, I…” She raises a hand, tempted to lay it on Genji’s shoulder, but then thinks better of it. “That wasn’t a critique of how you’re running the Division! You’re doing an exceptional job, especially given the circumstances. I feel much better knowing you’re leading everyone right now. I don’t intend to keep you in such a position for long, though, and I’m sorry this is the way things have turned out. I want to support you, however I can.”

Genji is slow to smile, and his eyes become glassy. Hinamori senses it’s not from sorrow or concern. He bows his head to her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. But please, continue to rest and recover. Everyone is cheering you on.”

Hinamori swallows against the tightness building up in her throat. “Thank you. I’ll keep doing my best.”

__________________________________

The occasional whispers don’t escape her. Whether they’re just outside her door or window, or a simple look exchanged between two of her officers, she knows what they’re not saying to her

“I heard the Lieutenant is still unwell. I hope she gets better soon.”

“I only transferred to the Division a week before Aizen’s betrayal. It’s so sad here.”

“I wish Captain Aizen were here.”

“How can you say that?!”

“Isawa-san seems really tired these days.”

“Did you hear about the new plan? You think they’re trying to distract us from the war?”

“The Lieutenant seems to be in a bad way.”

“Don’t talk so harshly! Lieutenant Hinamori will recover, she’s strong. She'll definitely get better."

“…But what if she doesn’t?”

__________________________________

Why had she become a Shinigami?

It’s a question that floats to the surface of Hinamori’s mind almost every night while she tries to sleep. Every time, she pushes it away, afraid of how the answer will lead to Aizen.

__________________________________

Hinamori dreams of the first time she saw Tobiume. She’d come to her as a fire, small but steady, in middle of a dark space. When she’d walked towards it, Hinamori gradually felt dry grass beneath her feet, and her arms brushed branches and leaves. The air was cold, but warmed as she neared the flames. The strongest smell was of burning wood, but beneath it is the slightest hint of something sweeter and floral.

A voice had wafted from it, a whisper at first, then growing louder as she approached the fire. She couldn’t comprehend what the voice was telling her at the time, but she knew she needed to listen, that whatever it said was important.

When she came to a stop, the flames continued to dance in front of her, memorizing and strangely familiar. Going against every instinct she’d had from childhood, she reached out to the scorching heat. To her surprise – and a disappointment didn’t understand – the fire lurched away from her. She leaned further in, and still it avoided her, diving in and around her hand no matter which way she angled it.

The voice had stopped too, and save for the sizzling and crackling of the flames, there was silence.

When Hinamori wakes from this, she doesn’t feel relieved to have had a dream for once that wasn’t about Aizen. She dwells on the silence until it’s buzzing in her ears.

__________________________________

Though Hinamori rarely does so, she’s allowed to leave her room for brief periods. For her visit from Nanao today, she meets her in the Division's gardens. Sitting on a bench under a Japanese maple, the sun is warm on her face and hands and the breeze, though cool, is gentle. It's not usually this warm in September, but she's glad for it. It’s been a long time since she was outside, and she takes in long breaths of fresh air.

For a moment she wonders why she didn’t step outside more often, but maybe it was the nature of the restrictions put on her. It was meant to ensure her recovery, that she wouldn’t strain herself by going to far and making herself more fatigued than she already is. She can’t help but think it’s for another reason, one she dismisses quickly.

“I think you’ll find this one interesting for it’s plot.”

Hinamori takes the book from Nanao. “Petals on the Wind. It looks…different.”

“It’s from the World of the Living,” Nanao explains. “I got it when I was posted on a mission last time. It has an intriguing mystery that kept me guessing and a slow build up for the relationship between the two main characters. There’s references to events and devices from the World of the Living, however, so you may need to set it aside every now and then to do some research.”

Hinamori places it atop of the latest editions of Seireitei Communication at her side, then gestures to the second book Nanao holds, Another World Through a Flower Pot. “And that one?”

“It’s written by a former officer of the Ninth Division. It’s about the lives of two women, one from our world and the other from another world, who can communicate with each other through a flower pot.” At Hinamori’s raised brows, Nanao chuckles. “I know, it sounds strange, but it was oddly touching. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“I've always trusted your judgement.” Hinamori takes the other book and puts both of them in her lap. “Thank you for these, I really appreciate it. I’ve run out of books to read in my room.”

“It’s no trouble, I had a feeling that would be the case. You've always been a fast reader.” Nanao adjust her glasses, raising them further up the bridge of her nose. Behind them, her eyes are soft with sympathy. “We miss you at the Women’s Association meetings, and I miss our discussions about books.”

“Well, you’ll have to come by again once I finish these.” She pats the stack of books. “ I miss our discussions too, I don't get to talk about what I read with a lot of people. I’ll be sure to send a message to you when I’m done reading these.”

“Please do.” Nanao's smile slowly falls and she looks to the side, rueful. “I’m sorry, but I have to return to the barracks. Captain Kyoraku and I have to go over some reports, and you know how he can be.”

Hinamori can’t help but sigh. Despite the obvious hesitations from her fellow lieutenant – in her pauses before she spoke and the concern she would catch in her gaze at certain points --  this short time with her had been the closest thing to normal she’d experience in months.

“I understand,” she says while they both rise from the bench.

Nanao pauses mid turn. Pursing her lips, she looks back to Hinamori. “I know I asked before, but…are you really all right?”

Hinamori forces a smile. “I know how it may seem, but I really am much better than before. I’ll be back to my duties before you know it.”

Nanao puts on a forced smile of her own, unable to hide the concern from her eyes. “Of course.”

“I’m afraid I can’t accompany you to the main entrance, I’ve been told I shouldn’t go any further than the main barracks and it’s courtyards.”

“It’s quite all right, I’ll see myself out.” Nanao bows to her. “It was good to see you. I’ll be sure to visit when you've read the books."

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Hinamori watches her leave. As soon as her friend is out of sight, she falls back against the bench. This fatigue isn’t getting any better, but the weight in her mind is floating somewhere far away. She tries to keep it that way as she straightens and slowly returns to her room.

__________________________________

While reading the Seireitei Communication that evening, Hinamori gets stuck on the haiku poem submissions from Izuru. They all speak of nature, but differ in certain ways; one is about change, another about autumn, and another about the unknowable quality forests can have. As always, she enjoys them and can understand why he has a following for his writing.

She sometimes extends her sense to check on his reiatsu. When she can sense it, it’s as she’s always known it: a strange swirl, dark and weighed down, but not unfriendly.

She wonders if he ever contemplates coming to see her. She’d been told he came to visit her a twice while she was unconscious in Fourth Division. She’ll apologise for her actions when she next sees him. Knowing him, he will too.

Maybe they’ll just pick up where they left off, discussing their divisions’ matters and then move on to their hobbies or how they can get Renji to come with them for a dinner. They can reminisce about their Academy days. But given what happened, can they still do that?

No, she knows, it can’t be like that. They’re changed now. She considers him a friend still, and if him visiting her was any indication, he still does too, but there’s no telling what their friendship will look like now.

Maybe, if she’s brave enough and can see it won’t affect him too harshly, she can ask him how he’s coping with Ichimaru’s betrayal. It will be to comfort him as a friend, but selfishly, it’ll also be to see if she can learn anything from him. Did he have nightmares about what happened? Did he still cling to how Ichimaru used to be? Did he wonder why he betrayed them or believe he had a good reason to?

She shakes her head. She won't burden him with such questions. She already does it to herself, and it only makes her head heavy and her mind spiral far away from the present.

__________________________________

She often asks Genji if he’s heard word about how the advance team are doing in the World of the Living. He always shakes his head and says, “Nothing yet, Lieutenant.”

Why had they not received word from them? Were they struggling? Were they communicating with the Soul Society at all? They must be, otherwise there’d be rumblings amongst the captains and lieutenants and a new team would be sent to retrieve them. Was the information they were sharing something only the Captain-Commander is meant to know?

Sighing through her nose, Hinamori takes a sip of the tea Genji had brought her and leans back against her pillow. She watches the rainfall outside and listens to it pattering on the roof. It must be this weather that has her thinking about Hitsugaya.

The last time she saw him arises in her mind again. This time, however, she tries to recall his surroundings. She’d been so focused on him, they’re blurry, but she remembers a window and a floor similar to the ones in the Soul Society. There was a cabinet behind him, with photos on top and other items. Was there a small shrine there too?

Then there as what he wore. It was the first time she saw him wear anything from the World of the Living. If not for the gravity of the situation, she would’ve dwelled more on how strange he looked. She’s grown so accustomed him to seeing him in uniform and with his haori. Without them, he’s closer to looking like the Soul she first met the in Jurinan.

To think he’d once never wanted to be a Shinigami. He’d planned on staying with his Granny, taking care of her and their house. She wasn’t blind to the way he was treated, it dawned on her not long after she was seen with him in public. She never understood why he was ostracized by her friends and the Junrinan's residents, but in more recent years, she began to wonder if his powers had something to do with it.

Bowing her head, she looks at her reflection in the tea. She’s not like the girl from the Junrinan she once was. She seems so far away now, almost forgotten. Where did she go?

__________________________________

That night she again dreams of when Tobiume first came to her. Only this time, Hitsugaya is on the opposite side of the flames. He looks like how he did when they were children, his young face and his green yukata illuminated by the firelight. He looks into the flames, and doesn’t respond when she calls out his name.

He only takes notice of her when she’s at the fire.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks. She blinks at the sound of her voice. She sounds younger and looking down at her arms, they're shorter and her fingers lack callouses. Is she younger too?

 “You told me to come here,” he says, like it should be obvious.

She frowns at him. “I did?”

He slowly walks around the fire to stand at her side. “The others couldn’t make it,” he says, folding his arms. “They’re too busy.”

“Others?”

“Ayumi and Tatsukichi.”

“Oh…Why did I want us to gather here?”

His brow furrows deeper and gives a stuff shrug.

Hinamori looks around, but the firelight only shows the two them. “Did I also ask Kira-kun, Abarai-kun, and Rangiku-san to come?”

 “Who?”

“They’re my friends too.”

“I don’t know them.”

She doesn’t know why she asked. This is clearly a Hitsugaya from the past, but there’s something about him that doesn’t quite fit how she knew him at this age.

He jerks his chin at the fire. “This thing doesn’t like me.”

She blinks. “What do you mean?”

He pulls the sleeve back from his arm and raises it. There are rivulets of water running down his skin. “See?”

She acts on instinct and grabs his wrist to pull him away. She freezes when can sense rather see another presence. She subtly tries to search, but Hitsugaya still sighs. “What’s got you distracted?”

“Don’t move, Hitsugaya-kun.”

“Ha, you finally call me by name.”

“Shh!” Then, quieter. “There’s someone else here.”

Rather than the roll of his eyes and comment about her being paranoid like she expects, his eyes widen and his posture tenses. This alertness reminds her of the Hitsugaya she knows in the present. “Where?”

“I’m not sure, but they’re here.”

She can sense they intend to harm them. Heart racing, she thinks to search for a weapon but can’t see anything. She could feel around for and break off a root or a branch, but she knows it’ll be useless against whatever this is.

The fire, as if picking up on her panic, has become erratic. The flames dance in every direction and grow taller, twisting around as embers fly high into the darkness and fall around them.

Then it comes to her, as if it were the most obvious solution.

“Hitsugaya-kun, we need to get into the fire!”

Hitsuagaya stares at her as if she’s lost her mind. “What?!”

She’s already backing herself into it, and with her grip on his wrist, she’s pulling him along.

“Let go of me, Hinamori!” he yells, struggling to get out of her grasp.

“It’ll be okay, Shiro-chan,” she tries to reassure, even as she feels her hand slicken with the water forming on his arm.

Her back is scorching when she steps into the fire. Just as she knew, it doesn’t burn her. It feels right to be in here. She stops halfway in. “This fire will protect you,” she promises. “It’ll never hurt you.”

“We can’t go in there!” he yells. "You need to get out of there!"

It’s as if she snaps out of a trance. Despite how right it feels to be in these flames, it’s wrong to bring him in here. As a tear falls down her cheek, she releases her grip. Hitsugaya's arm, having struggled to break free, goes flying in an arc. Water drops fly off his limb and evaporate in the hot air.

This fire was ignited by her, but it’s not for her. It’s not Tobiume. The realization comes to her as a flare of pain races up from the soles of her feet up to her head. Then, from the darkness, another hand clasps Hitsugaya’s wrist. With a scream, she tries to reach for Hitsugaya from the flames. Her hand, though whole, feels as if it’s on fire.

“No!” she screams. “Let him go!”

Hitsugaya repeatedly smacks and kicks the attacker behind him, showing none of the combat training he'd learned for decades. It does nothing to loosen the grip they have on him. Then, above his head, there’s a cold smile from the being.

“I’m sorry!” she cries out to Hitsugaya as the being's face comes into the fire light. “I’m sorry!”

Hinamori flings up from her sleep with a strangled sound caught in her throat. Her arms are out in front, as if still reaching for her childhood friend. She stumbles into the bathroom to wash the thin sheen of sweat from her face and shaky arms. After changing into new robes, she lies back down a few minutes later.

She stares at the ceiling, watching it turn from dark grey to pale yellow as the sun rises.

__________________________________

The next day, Hirose, one of the Division’s Twelfth seats, comes by with a bunch of flowers. Hinamori can’t help but grin when receiving them, her mood lifting for an instance at the sight of the bright chrysanthemums and cosmos.

For a moment, there’s a sense of the old normality, but she tries to not let it stray too far into the past as she chats with her subordinate. It becomes harder when Hirose spots a vase on her bookcase and uses it to put the flowers into. It’s one she’d bought many years ago. She had hoped to one day put it on her desk when she became a Lieutenant, but it never left her old or current quarters.

__________________________________

It’s three days later when Hinamori is in the middle of reading one of Nanao’s novel and she remembers Rangiku’s birthday was yesterday. She hasn’t returned from her mission in the World of the Living, that gave Hinamori some time to think about what to give her when she was back. She can’t go out and buy anything, and she doesn’t want to trouble her officers with buying something on her behalf.

Hinamori puts the books aside, then with some effort, rises and slips out of her bed. On unsteady legs she comes to her bookcase. She’d read most of the novels stacked on the shelves, but would Rangiku be interested in any of them? She isn’t much a reader, and what little she does read is often limited to magazines and short novels packed with either melodrama or light-hearted content. None of Hinamori’s books contain either of those things, and the only magazines she had were old copies of the Seireitei Communication – ones that feature articles or creative contributions from her friends.

She glances at the purple vase on the middle shelf, still with Hirose’s flowers in it. A few days on, they’re beginning to lose their vitality, with several petals already drooping and fading in colour, and their sweet scent is developing a sour undercurrent.

Next to it are tiny figurines, a gift from Hitsugaya and Rangiku for her birthday a few years ago. They are of a boy, short-haired and in a blue kimono, and a girl, pig-tailed and in a floral white and red kimono. Their proportions are reduced to two spheres each – smaller ones for their heads and bigger ones for their bodies. They stand next to her each on their tiny platform and beam at her. For a moment, she can’t help but smile back at them. To this day, they still remind her of her and Hitsugaya when they were children. She’d even been tempted to paint the boys hair white not long after receiving them, but was too embarrassed by the idea.

There’s nothing here she wants to part with, and she scolds herself of even thinking of giving Rangiku something she has here rather than give her something new.

Her gaze floats down to and lingers on the sketchbooks on the bottom shelf. Perhaps she can draw her something, but what? Hinamori had always wanted Rangiku to sit for her to draw her portrait. Or maybe a simple letter, apologising for actions and telling her how much her friendship means in times like this. It isn’t much, but it will have to do for now.

Withholding a wince, she bends down and takes out the newest sketchbook. As she straightens, she opens to a blank page. But it’s not. It’s of a drawing, one that gives her pause. Then, sends a wave of nausea through her and a slip of cold rippling her back. Her breath catches in her throat, and she drops the book as if were on fire.

It doesn’t snap shut, falling with the portrait facing up. One of many, she knows. She stumbles back to her bed, almost tripping over her own feet and unable to look away from her drawing of Aizen. He smiles serenely at her, that peaceful expression she always associated with him. She barely hears Tobiume’s cries over her heart racing in her ears. In that moment, the memory of him smiling coldly at her overlays it for a flash.

She collapses on to her bed, then scrambles for the window and throws it open, heaving a lungful of air. She fights against the urge to throw up, covering her mouth.

“Lieutenant!”

Higuchi, her Seventh's seat, and Genji stand in the courtyard below her window, doused in the orange light of the setting sun and in the middle of a conversation until she forced her window open. In her peripheral, officers and new recruits had been trailing into the main barracks, but stopped at Genji’s alarmed cry.

“Hold on, I’ll be there!” Genji calls out as he rushes to the nearest barracks entrance. Higuchi hesitates, then sprints to follow his superior. Most of the officers and recruits move on, but a few linger, exchanging worried and knowing glances.

When Genji and Higuchi reach her room, Higuchi guides her to her bathroom. Still, Hinamori peers over her shoulder at Genji. He stares at the sketchbook on the floor, unmoving and unblinking, wide-eyed. Slowly, he picks it up. Sorrow flickers across his face, but as Higuchi leaves her and shuts the door behind himself -- upon her weak instance to do so -- her Third seat’s face turns to something stony.

She wishes she had Genji’s strength.

The next several minutes pass in a blur. She emerges from the bathroom several minutes later, her stomach emptied and a foul taste lingering in her mouth despite washing it out. While Higuchi helps her settle back in, Genji hurriedly leaves and returns with a glass of water. She has no appetite and requests that noone prepare her dinner. Higuchi, ever paternal, still insists on at least a bowl of chestnut rice, and too fatigued to put up a fight, she agrees to it.

It’s not until her officers reluctantly leave the room she notices the sketchbook has been put back in it’s place. She can’t stand to look at any of them. How foolish she’d been. Had she not been hesitant to look at them weeks ago?

He’s in all of them. And not just there; he’d given her some of the novels lining her shelves, with small messages written on the first page of each.

Tomorrow, she’d ask Genji to move them and the sketchbooks into her closet. She tries to ignore the thought of her cowardice, that she would ask another to this instead of doing it herself. She wants to cry, but can’t find the strength to do so.

At some point, an officer brings her a small bowl of chestnut rise. She doesn't take a mouthful until it’s gone cold and the sky has darkened to night. When another officer comes back, it’s not even half eaten. It sits in her stomach, lying there like she does. Suspended somewhere, heavy and immoveable.

That night Hinamori watches her alarm clock tick over from the last day of September to the first day of October. Another month closer to winter.

__________________________________

Ever since the incident with the sketchbook, she has lain in bed doing little but eat and sleep. She couldn’t even focus on reading or having conversations with officers who came to visit or bring her meals. Genji never brought up the sketchbook, and like others, he became more wary of his words and his gaze ranged from pity to disquiet, more obvious than before.

Isane comes to check on her every few days. They check her physical condition, then she asks her the usual questions designed to her to speak her mind. She's more happy to see her friend than she is divulge how she feels; it should feel as though she were getting things off her chest and letting go of the weights in her mind and limbs. It helps in the moment, but when Isane leaves and Hinamori is left alone, it returns quickly.

She’s never been so tired in her life, nor so heavy in the mind. It becomes worse at night, especially when everyone but her is asleep.

Now, two weeks from the incident, it's no different. She stares out at the gap between the curtains, searching for the stars between the gaps in the clouds.

She faintly recalls star gazing with Hitsugaya when they were children, and even more recently. It's had been last year on her birthday, with her and her other friends. They'd all gone out to dinner, but Hitsugaya only joined them for the stargazing. To see everyone there, happy to be with each other, knowing they could turn to each other when needed, it made the moment one of the happiest memories she has.

It stands in stark contrast to now. Can they go back to days like that? No, not go back. Can days like that happen again in the future?

The thought does not bring the usual self-pity and hopelessness. It sparks something at the back her mind. It's enough to make her want to move.

With what little strength she has, she slides to the edge of her bed and reaches for Tobiume. In the silence, her zanpakuto’s reiatsu becomes a small fire, warm and comforting. The fact she does this, after barely speaking a word to her master, makes a lump form in Hinamori’s throat.

Taking her weapon, she scoots away from the edge, rolls on to her opposite side and lays her zanpakuto over her comforter. Keeping a hand on the scabbard, she shuts her eyes. Tears fall from them not long after.

Hours later, she sleeps without dreams. She wonders if Tobiume somehow blocked them from her, or maybe, she’d reached a state where she’s too afraid to dream but too exhausted to force herself away from rest.

Regardless, she sleeps through the whole night for the first time in months.

__________________________________

It’s a surprisingly warm day, with a gentle breeze blowing through her room and not a cloud in the sky.

Rather than watch the shadows of the dancing curtains, Hinamori closes her eyes and enjoys the warmth. It penetrates through her skin, touching her bones. A glimmer of peace briefly sparks in her heart. It’s like rediscovering a lost but fond memory, or coming back to an old friend.

She at once clings to that ember of peacefulness, but also allows the lump her throat to form and the tears to quietly course down her face. They are not the same as ones she’d shed last night or in the last few weeks when she was alone. They are not of guilt or sadness or hopeless or denial.

Something freeing, something that felt like the unlocking of a door, but not yet the opening of it.

__________________________________

“They’ve really improved with their kido. Even so, I know they miss you’re training lessons.”

Hinamori smiles out at the field of recruits practicing their kido on targets against the far wall. It's most natural smile she's given in a while.

“I miss giving demonstrations,” she admits to Genji. “They’ve all come a long way, the instructor has been teaching them well.”

He grins. “I’ll be sure to pass that feedback on to him.”

They stand above the training grounds on one of the balconies. Even though her mood had been low, Hinamori decided that morning she needed to leave her room. Genji had been hesitant at first, but she brought him around when she reminded him of Isane's recommendation that she get fresh air whenever she felt up to walking around.

Even so, he'd given her a blanket to wrap around her shoulders against the cold winds. It ruffles in the wind now, and she’d rather throw it off, but she knows the officer would worry if she did.

She and Genji continue to watch the recruits in silence. She makes notes for each one, from their postures while casting spells to the resulting beams that strike the targets. She’s heartened to hear the cheers and claps when someone hits a target, and mostly sympathetic encouragement when someone doesn’t. There’s still a sense of comradery, much more so than when she’d been advised to rest months ago.

Still, she doesn’t fail to notice two recruits sitting on the sidelines. They’re waiting their turn, but one of them bows her head. Her friend puts a hand on her shoulder, and it’s as if something in her breaks. She folds into herself and her frame shakes.

Another recruit comes over and kneels before her. He asks her what happened, and Hinamori can catch pieces of what she says. “It’s…I haven’t been able to…Aizen.”

However, her other friend nods sympathetically. “I’ve also been finding it hard.”

“We all have,” says the other. “We…and Fifth Division…stand strong.”

“Oh no,” Genji says under his breath.

“Do you know that recruit?” Hinamori asks without looking away from the scene.

“No, she's new, but…” He can’t finish his sentence. He turns towards the entrance they’d come out of. “I’ll go and see what’s happened.”

Hinamori remembers the whispers, had caught glimpses of low moral from outside her window as officers came and went in the courtyards. She's certain Genji has had to deal with situations like this on an almost daily basis since Aizen left them behind. Something about this moment is different, however, and she can’t stand by and watch anymore.

“No,” she says firmly. “I’ll go.”

Genji frowns at her. “Are you sure? I can handle this.”

She shakes her head and offers a small smile. “How about we both go, then.”

By the time they get to training grounds, the three recruits have been joined by a few more. The concern they show warms Hinamori’s heart, and she’s slow to approach them.

One notices her, then another, and soon, everyone’s eyes are on her. They speak her rank and name, most bowing, other’s too surprised to do so. Seeing them all, up close for the first time in over a month, something shifts in her. The warmth in her chest dims, and in it’s place is something contracting.

She’s seen gazes like this before, on battlefields and in scenes of destruction. Shinigami looking to her for orders, Souls looking for answers. They’re shocked by her unannounced appearance, but just as quickly, they’re seeking from her. It’s the same gazes they gave to Aizen, looking to him, up to him. Knowing he would lead them to right place, to sooth their hearts and deal punishment to Hollows who threatened their world.

He would go against the laws if meant championing a greater good. She keeps staring at her subordinates, and for the first time in far too long, anger simmers in the pit of her stomach.

What good reason would he have to leave us behind?

“L-Lieutenant Hinamori.”

She snaps out of her reverie. The crying recruit, still supported by her friend at her side, bows her head. “I-I…F-Forgive me, I-I’m not…”

Hinamori breathes, her shoulders rising a fraction before lowers. Then she bows her to. “It’s all right. I didn’t mean to draw attention.” Then, straightening up and addressing everyone. “I was watching your progress with Isawa-san. I didn’t want to interrupt your training, forgive me.” When no one speaks, she thinks to fill the silence. “I know I haven’t been present for the last month, but I can see you’ve all greatly improved. When I’m in better health, I hope return to giving demonstrations and assist you in becoming even better.”

She’s emboldened by the smiles and nods from some around her. “I know these three months have been hard on everyone,” she says, loud enough that her voice echoes around the training grounds. “It hasn't escaped me, and I am deeply sorry that I have not been there to lead you all. I am getting better...but Fifth Division is nothing without it's officers. Without your all of support and strength, we would not be where we are today. So, please, keep going, and we can continue to make Fifth Division a great place to be!"

The speech doesn't draw an enthusiastic response, but most are smiling and nodding and few even cheer. If she'd been more prepared, she's certain she could've come up with better words.

While Genji directs everyone else back to the kido training, Hinamori turns her back to the weeping recruit. "What's your name?"

"Tanaka Mai, Lieutenent," the recruit responds.

"How long have you been with the Fifth Division, Tanaka-san?"

"Three months."

"I see...I'm sorry it's been like this for you."

"Ah, no, please Lieutenant, y-you don't need to apologise." She glances at her supporting friend, and then at the other who had knelt before her. Fresh tears well up in her eyes. "I looked up to him, Lieutenant. I wanted to be like him."

It hits Hinamori's heart, and she can feel the cracks web through her whole body. For a flicker, she sees younger self in this recruit. And not just her, in her friends too, who have similar crestfallen expressions as her.

She can't be here. She doesn't know what to say without also breaking into tears.

She bows, her hair falling and obscuring her face. "I understand." Then, abruptly rising, she turns in her heel and marches to Genji. "Isawa-san!"

Genji's concern makes her wince inwardly, but she quickly instructs him assist and apologize to Tanaka and her friends on her behalf. She departs in an instant, needing more space and air. She ends up in the courtyard outside of her room. She wipes the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks as she paces around the maple tree and bench. A few officers pass by the courtyard, and she offers a weak greeting to them, and then in turn bow and are quick to move along, sensing it wasn't the best time to speak with their lieutenant.

After several minutes she comes to a stop and ends up looking at her bedroom window. She'd sat behind it for months, rarely coming outside. Rarely thinking of anything beyond what had happened.

She sense Genji approaching before she sees him.

"Lieutenant," he says softly as he approaches. "Are you all right?"

She doesn't turn to him. "I'm sorry for how I reacted back there. If I had prepared myself better, I would have been able to handle it."

"No, it's understandable, you don't have to apologize. Please, don't think about it."

"I have to, as their Lieutenant."

He doesn't argue, because on some level, he must know she's right. On some level, he may even resent having to step up to higher duties, and she wouldn't blame him.

For a minute in the silence between them, she shuts her eyes. They burn, and her mind whirls with the threat of panic and having too many heavy thoughts tumbling around. She breahtes, takes in the fresh air, just as Isane said she should.

There's no going back now.

“Isawa-kun.” She turns back to her Third seat. “Captain Aizen…he really betrayed us.”

She’d wanted to end it as a question – he really betrayed us, didn’t he? –but she needs it to be a statement, as much to herself as to show Genji her acceptance.

He tenses, and when his gaze darts away, it strikes her that maybe his hesitancy this whole time had not just been out of concern to her. He had shown determination when looking at her portrait of Aizen, but maybe, like her false smile, it was his way of facing this. She was not blind to her Division’s suffering, to the effect his betrayal had on all of them, but had she somehow underestimated how deeply it ran?

“Yes, he did.” There’s the slightest waver in Genji's voice. It’s enough to make Hinamori bow her head to him.

“I’m sorry for leaving you with so much work. I said before I would get better, and it’s taken me so long To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I can lead us out of this.”

Genji stumbles for words, but when she raises her head, he’s rendered speechless. She hopes her expression convey her will to right the wrongs Aizen left behind. “But I won’t give up. I am still the Lieutenant of the Fifth Division, and I want to continue to be. I will need you and other seated officers’ advice once I recover. Together, we can bring the Fifth Division back and help everyone.”

Genji's eyes brighten. He ducks his head, and again his voice catches. “Of course, Lieutenant Hinamori.”

__________________________________

Why had you become a Shinigami?

The question emerged six days ago, and for the first time in weeks. Today, it comes to Hinamori while she eats breakfast and causes her to stop chewing. Rather than push it away, she clings to it. It’s the only thought that isn’t of her past actions, the pity of those around her, or of Aizen. The question is a glimmer in this darkness, a tiny speck of light that promised something more than the ruminations swirling around constantly day and night. If she’s going to get better, this seems like the best place to start.

When she reflected on it in the last week, the thought ended up leading to her former captain just as she'd feared, but she is quick to divert him away.

Now, setting her breakfast aside, she crosses her legs and places Tobiume in front of them, making her zanpakuto a focal point to concentrate on. It’s almost like jinzen, but without the full connection to her zanpakuto to enter her inner world.

A meditative trance comes over her, causing her to let out a long, deep breath. There had been a reason before Aizen, before she even got accepted into the Academy. It was more vaguely defined, tinged with childish optimism and naivety, and somehow it persisted well into her first days in the Fifth Division, even after the horrific things she’d been on battlefields. Even after realising the gap between the wealthy families and those who came for the lower districts. Even when faced with realities that came with being a Shinigami, that she could not save every life or help every Soul.

You wanted to be a light.

Her zanpakuto’s interruption doesn’t startle her. She’d felt her presence in the back of her mind, mediating with her on the question.

“I wanted to help others,” she rasps. “I thought the Shinigami who brought me here was one of the kindest people I met…” She sniffs, throat tightening on the verge of a sob. “I don’t even remember what they look like now.”

It’s natural for a Soul to forget their time in the World of the Living and how they arrived at the Soul Society.

“It was considered strange that I kept my memories for as long as I did.”

She senses Tobiume nod. You wanted to find that Shinigami who led you here.

“I never did.”

It stopped bothering you at some point. Not long after you met your friends.

The faces of Izuru, Renji, and Rukia come to mind briefly. It feels like more decades ago than it was when they first met. They weren't the first Souls she met with the same potential as her, but with Renji and Izuru in particular, she knew not long after meeting them she would still be friends with them for many decades to come. Maybe it had been the few personal interests that had intersected, or that they were just the first fellow students they really spoke to in the Academy.

Truthfully, she thinks it's because of the fight they put up against the Hollows in the training mission that had gone wrong. She had run into the fray against the Huge Hollows, and they'd followed. Somewhere in that back her mind in that moment, she knew she would fight back to back with either of them. If they were willing to follow her into a battle like this, even when she made a sudden decision as that, or to protect someone none of them has really known, she wanted them to stay in her life.

But after that battle, when Aizen and Ichimaru had come to save them, it all changed. She resists the urge to stop thinking there, to keep pushing through and see this train of thought to it's end.

Yes, her and Izuru in particular had changed. It had been a gradual thing, taking place over a month or so, with all three of them unable to forget what happened, but with Hinamori and Izuru learning more about the two Shinigami who saved them. Izuru's motivation shift slightly, going from becoming a Shimigami to appease his family's wishes, to wanting to serve under the men who had saved them.

For Hinamori, it was almost a seismic shift; her goal changed to wanting to serve under Aizen, and maybe even become his lietuenant. It was almost a trenous thought at the time, hoping with Ichimaru would step down as his lieutenant. She'd never forget the burst of hope that filled her when he announced that he was moving on to become Third Division's captain; she'd been a Fourth seat then.

Looking back now, it's strange her first thoughts after a life-treatenign situation were of Aizen and Ichimaru, and not of Hisagi ro thanking either of her freinds for coming to assist. She had been younger the, but even so, she would've hoped she had the capacity to at least think of thanking them. Renji had known better, would rarely talk about either man afterwards and would wonder how Hisagi was doing or how either her or Izuru could become so awestruck by Aizen or Ichimaru.

"I changed after that day," she reiterates, shaking her head to herself. "That's all it took."

You were younger then, Tobiume offers, and inexperienced. You flew in to save someone in need. Doesn't that align with your original intentions?

Back then, she had gone to help Hisagi without a second thought and despite her fear. She didn't know him, but he was injured and out-numbered. She couldn't leave him. It went against everything she stood for.

She thought Aizen had stood for those same things. It's one of the reason she had admired him so deeply. She saw who she thought was the embodiment of everything she wanted to be, but believed she could only ever become a pale imitation of him. He had been too good, too perfect in many ways.

But even as she served under him, had she not still wanted to help others? Had it always been because she wanted to impress him or try to be like him? A lot of those instances had been without his presence or knowledge. The back of her eyes burn.

"I never lost it," she realises, voice becoming raspy. "Even now, I still want to..." I want to help others. I want to help my friends.

He had become her reason to reach the level she had, but he hadn't taken away her original goal. If he hadn't taken that away, maybe she he hadn't taken other things with him.

With a sob, she bends over Tobiume. A tear lands on her scabbard, and another on her quilt. She rubs her eyes and Tobiume soothes her in the back of her mind.

I told you, she says, you're stronger than you know. You still have these skills, master. They never left you.

After several minutes, Hinamori calms her sobs. She brings up Tobiume and presses her forehead to her hilt. "I'm so sorry, Tobiume. Thank you, thank you..."

A zanpakuto, she recalls from one of her instructors, is a reflection of their wielder. When you communicate with your weapon, you are communicating with yourself.

How had she not realised it sooner? She had been so focused on him, she didn't see what was still within her and in front of her. She still had her friends, her subordinates, and in time, she would strengthen herself again. She didn't know how for the latter, but she had been working the other two, albeit in a fumbling and unsure manner.

That sensation, of the unlocked but still closed door returned. Now, the handle turns, and she doesn't know what lies on the otherwise, but she will face it.

He had his reasons for betraying them, whatever they were, but he had not taken her own reasons to stay on as lieutenant of the Fifth Division.

__________________________________

It’s two days later when the zanjutsu instructor is back in the dojo, yelling just as loud as the last time.

There is no breeze today, or birds chirping in a nearby tree, and most of the leaves have fallen from the trees. It’s all she can hear.

On unsteady legs, she rises from bed and manages to bend over and grab Tobiume’s hilt.

Master? Her zanpakuto questions.

Hinamori slowly comes to the middle of her room, barely managing to stand straight. “Let’s practice.”

Are you sure?

“You told me I do not need pity.”

Something flared through Tobiume; it felt like a hope and a determined smirk. Good!

Hinamori assumes the stance the officers in to dojo below have. She positions her feet, steady on the ground, and holds Tobiume with both hands, the sheathed blade’s tip pointing towards the ceiling. She breaths in and out deeply, trying to dispel the weight in her mind and tremors running through her limbs.

She listens to the instructor and the officers responding cries. Not wanting to draw attention for the fear of an officer rushing in thinking something’s wrong, she keeps her mouth closed and follows the movements they would.

On her first swing, she loses her balance and topples to the side, landing on her bed. She ignores Tobiume's concerned cries and gets back up. "I'm fine," she tries to reassure. "I just have to keep going. Believe in me, Tobiume."

She definitely rusty, continually losing her footing in the first volley of practice strikes, but she does not let it deter her. She keeps raising her sword and bringing it down, falling back, then stepping forward doing it again and again.

It becomes a rhythm; then, at some point, muscle memory. She forgets about the weight in her limbs and mind, and she’s more free than she’s ever been.

_________________________________

Hinamori wakes an hour before the sun rises. Not feeling the urge to shut her eyes again, she gets out of bed and takes up Tobiume. She sneaks to a training ground -- one away from the barracks that house her subordinate -- and performs her zanjutsu training.

The extra space allows her to arc her zanpakuto higher and her foot work to go further around.

She’s never felt so free. The thought makes her stop. She lowers Tobiume to her side.

She’s been doing this for almost two weeks in secret. Why did she have to hide this? Wouldn’t it be encouraging for her subordinates to see her up like this?

The thought of her turning up to training gives her an unexpected anxiety. It comes with thoughts of unsure gazes and the dread that she would not be able to show them she was getting better. What if she slipped in her foot work? What if fatigue made her movements sluggish?

I can’t risk them knowing about this, she thinks. I’ll keep training, but…

One step at a time, master.

__________________________________

It's four days later when she makes way down to the Fifth Divison's library. It's the late hours of the night, when everyone is asleep. She takes a lantern with her and uses it to browse the shelves. There's no new books in the ficision section, but that hadn't been why she'd come down here.

She rounds the corner and ends up with the instructions and guides. She grabs the tomb she needs, then rushes back to her room. It of the kido spells, most of which she already knows. Still she studies the guide as if she were back in the Academy.

In the coming days, after she hones her zanjutsu skills in the early hours of the morning, she practices the hands movements and chants the incantations in her mind before breakfast. When she's certain she has memorized enough spells, she begins to study how they can be combined. She'd come up with combinations in the past, but she'll need stronger ones for the upcoming war.

She's caught out of bed practicing her hand movements and mouthing a chant by Isane almost a week later. An awkward silence passes between the two, and all Hinamori can do is sheepishly look at the tray Isane holds with her breakfast on it. Eventually, her fellow lieutenant smiles and says "You seem to be in good spirits, Hinamori-san."

After a bout of surprised laughter, Hinamori replies, "I, uh...I wanted to get back into the basics, I suppose. I'm not actually casting them of course!"

They go on to have a rather lively conversation about kido. Perhaps it's not as big a deal as Hinamori thought. If anything, it might show the Fourth Division's lieutenant that she's on the mend. Soon, she might be able to face her subordinates in one of their training sessions.

__________________________________

Doing all of this practice isn't enough to make her completely forget what happened, nor does it draw away the heaviness completely.

Even so, she feels stronger. No longer are her footsteps shaky and she can sleep through most nights. She's getting better, and it's a revelation she can't fully believe some days.

Her subordinates notice something is different about her. They visit more often, telling her about what's been happening in their personal lives, and she steps outside more often, even sitting in on one of Hirose's gardening groups.

Today, she watches them come and go in the courtyard, and she can tell the mood in the Division is shifting. The only strange thing is Genji seems to be attending more meetings in the afternoon.

She can't stop, she reaffirms to herself. She has to keep going. It's nearly the end of October; the war will be on the horizon soon.

__________________________________

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Hinamori can’t help but frown when her Tenth seat enters carrying her breakfast. “Imai-san.”

“Apologies, Isawa-san usually brings your meals on Friday morning, doesn’t he?”

Hinamori nods. “It’s not a problem. Is he unwell?”

Imai shakes her head and lays the tray across Hinamori’s lap. She notes two of her subordinate's red-painted nails are chipped. “He had to attend an emergency meeting.”

Hinamori’s eyes widen. “Has something happened?”

“No. He didn’t say much, but he mention that the advance team have returned.”

“Thank you, Imai-san.” Then, remembering. “And please thank whoever made this for me.”

“Of course, Lieutenant. Please enjoy.” After her Fourth seat leaves, Hinamori can barely eat with the butterflies in her stomach. Hitsugaya and the others have returned.

She casts out her senses, and sure enough, Hitsugaya’s reiatsu is there. Slightly more faint, shes sense Rangiku’s and Renji’s near him. If she had to guess, they’re all in First Division meeting hall.

Would they come visit?

Why would they?

Her shoulders deflate. After what happened, she wouldn’t blame Hitsugaya for being hesitant. Why has she even thought he would?

More importantly, why had they returned? Was their mission over? What had they discovered about the enemy? About these Arrancars? She’d only heard snippets and rumors spreading amongst her officers in their whispers and conversations they have while passing her room or below her window.

She munches on her breakfast, unable to cast the thoughts aside.

Later, Imai comes to collect her tray. She’s disappointed again when it’s Higuchi rather than Genji who serves her lunch to her. The day turns to sunset, and when there’s a knock, she can’t help but eagerly call out, “Come in!”

Sure enough, Genji has her dinner. “Good evening, Lieutenant Hinamori.”

“It’s good to see you Isawa-kun.”

He comes to the stand at her bedside, but doesn’t lay the tray down. “Sorry about this morning, I had to attend an emergency captain and lieutenant’s meeting.”

“Yes, Imai-san told me.”

Genji lowers the tray to her lap, and rather than make small talk or excuse himself to leave, he lingers at her bedside.

Hinamori isn't surprised by the awkward pause. Still, she had hoped she wouldn't need to prompt Genji. Had the Captain-Commander instructed Genji to not tell her what was discussed? Or was Genji simply concerned about the effect debriefing her would have?

Knowing him, it's the latter.

"Isawa-kun, whatever happened at the meeting, I want to know," she says, gently. "I am still a Lieutenant of the Gotei Thirteen, and if it concerns the Fifth Division, I wish to know. If you're not allowed to speak about it, however, I understand and I will consult with Lieutenant Sasakibe if I need to."

Genji frowns at the floor. After letting out a long, silent breath, his gaze reaches hers. "The Advance Team returned from the World of the Living. Captain Hitsugaya gave a full report on their battles in the World of the Living. These Arrancar, Lieutenant...they are strong."

Hinamori lips part at the news, unsure how to respond, but she nods for him to continue.

"They returned in light of a human, Inoue Orihime, is believed to have sided with the Arrancars."

"W-What?" Hinamori stammers out. Then, she recognises the name. "She was one of the Ryoka that tried to save Kuchiki-san. How do they know she has betrayed us?"

"She was training in the Soul Society only yesterday with Captain Ukitake and Kuchiki-san. Captain Ukitake was the last to see her before she vanished. However, she made it back to the World of Living, evidenced by her healing one of Kurosaki Ichigo's wounds while he was asleep."

Hinamori can only shake her head. This conflict had inspired acts of betrayal from all sides. Why would she do this?

Noticing Genji's hesitation, she decides to put the matter aside for now. “Go on, Isawa-kun. Is there something else?"

He nods, but doesn't continue right away. He loosk out her window, at the gatherings of officers in the courtyard, having either come back from missions or outings to the Rukongai. “We know who will be required to attend the battle against Captain Aizen and the Arrancars.”

Hinamori's hand flies to her throat when it involuntarily clamps up.

“It will only be captains and lieutenants. All ranks Third seat and below will remain in the Soul Society while the captains and lieutenants wait in the fake Karakura Town.”

“I-I see.” A thought occurs to her in horror. “That doesn’t mean you will have to be on the battlefield in my place, does it?”

“Ah, no! The Captain-Commander assured me that no one from Fifth Division is expected to be there.”

No one from Fifth Division should go with them, is what he really means she suspects. They could compromise the battle, serve only as a weakness to the Gotei Thirteen’s forces. She tries to ignore the tiny furl of bitterness in the pit of her stomach. Surely this order came from a place caring, too. “That’s a relief.”

Genji nods.

“And what did you mean by ‘fake Karakura Town’?”

“The Captain Commander wants all officers to fight at their full capacity. To avoid human causalities and any destruction to Karakura Town, Twelfth Division used Tenkai Kecchu to create a copy. The real Karakura Town will be transported to the edge of the Rukongai when the enemy is expected to make their move.”

She’s never heard of the technique. She’s about to ask what it is when Genji raises his hand.

“Please, Lieutenant, you should eat.” She wants to insist on knowing, but when his gaze falls to the ground, she notices how slumped his shoulders are. He’s weary, and likely feels guilty for having told her about the upcoming battle. “I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have burdened you with all of this, especially this late.”

Hinamori watches her Third seat for a moment longer, then takes up the chopsticks. “Thank you Isawa-kun. I appreciate that you told me this, and that you brought me dinner.”

Genji manages a faint smile before he bows and leaves without another word. Hinamori lets the chopsticks fall back to the tray and stares into space for so long her food gets cold by the time she remembers to eat it.

__________________________________

Hinamori can't get the plan out of her mind. It follows her in her training and even as she eats her meals. Did it mean the Captain-Commander foresaw the conflict happening sooner than expected? Or is he simply planning ahead to catch the enemy offguard?

She had brought it up with Isane on her latest visit, but her fellow Lieutenant couldn't offer much more than Genji had. Hinamori took some comfort in seeing she too was worried the conflict might be coming to them sooner than they'd hoped.

At night, Hinamori can't help but imagine the scenario before she shuts her eyes to try and sleep. The captains and lieutnenants facing Aizen, Ichimaru, Tosen, and the Arrancars. It meant her friends would be there. Izuru and Hisagi would have to stand on the same battlefield as the captains who they'd once served. No one from Fifth would be there to confront Aizen.

It's a relief none of her subordinates had to be involved, but that bitterness from her conversation with Genji always finds a way to influence her thoughts. Everyone on that battlefield will be expecting her to stay here, recovering from everything that's happened. They think she's at her weakest physically and mentally.

I've done little to show them otherwise, she thinks pitifully while practicing the hand movements for a kido net spell.

You still can, master, Tobiume tries to encourage.

How do you mean?

When Tobiume doesn't answer immediately, Hinamori halts her practice and waits. Her zanpakuto spirit's answer makes her frown.

You've been thinking about it, whether you've realised it or not.

__________________________________

It's two days later when Hinamori dreams of the fire. She’s alone with it again, and it's calmer than before. There is no threat, but still she steps into the flames.

She goes in facing it, letting it wash over her face first, then her torso, then her arms and legs. This time, she knows for certain these flames are hers and hers alone. Tobiume's voice echoes around her, saying too many things at once, but somehow Hinamori can understand it all.

This is where she should wake up, for a presence enters her space again. It's same one as last time, and she's terrified to turn and face him.

He won't leave unless I face him, she realises.

She looks to the flames around her, brushing over her limbs and whipping through her hair. She tries to take strength from them as she turns.

He stands on the other side, smiling. He reaches for her, but she steps back. The flames grow in intensity, whipping against the intruders hand. he doesn't flinch away, however. His hand remains hovering in the fire, and she can only watch as it starts to burn his flesh. He still smiles at her.

Not long after Hinamori opens her eyes, she cringes and grabs hold of Tobiume before marching towards the training grounds. Tobiume rages with her, the heat of her flames coursing through Hinamori's veins. Her slashes through the sky and attacks on a training dummy are harsh and brittle.

She's certain before she awoke her heart had been pulled in a violent tug of war between letting him burn or pushing his hand out of the flames to safety.

_________________________________

She returns to her room as the sun begins to rise. Tobiume is silent, but Hinamori can sense her presence in the back of her mind. It's as if she's waiting on something from her.

What is it, Tobiume? she asks.

Her zanpakuto's spirit says nothing still. She's usually quick to speak her mind, prompted or not.

Hearing an officer from down the hallway, she decides to leave it and quickly returns back to bed. Had they seen her just now?

She frowns when she dtects the officer's reiatsu and notices his footsteps are hurried. Genji runs past her door and down the stairs. She parts the curtains in time to see him rushing across the courtyard towards the Division's main entrance. A Hellbutterly follows in his wake.

Something has happened.

_________________________________

For the next hour, Hinamori alternates between pacing around her room and sitting and waiting for Genji to return. Anxious jitters thrum through her, threaten to break limbs out into quivers and shakes. She casts her senses out, but he's still in the First Division.

The sun has risen and most officers make their way to the mess hall for breakfast. No one is alarmed that Genji is not there, likely thinking he's either out running errands or getting breakfast elsehwhere.

They don't anticipate the news she already knows.

The war is here. She can sense it in the air, as though a lock had been snapped open, unable to hold back what it tried to contain. It’s in the way the reiatsu she can sense at First Division all waver, heightening and decreasing in intensity. It’s the only explanation she can think of.

 With a shaky breath, she stops in the middle of her room. How will she react with Genji gives her the news? How will her Division react? No doubt some will want to go out to the battlefield, but most, she thinks, will be tense. The outcome of this battle didn’t just determine the fate of the Worlds they protect. It was a battle against the captain they once followed, the man that betrayed them and left them shattered in their wake. A being powerful enough to fool everyone and leave the Soul Society unscathed.

She again replays the battlefield scenario in her mind. Her friends, zanpakuto drawn, staring down Aizen and his accomplices. They’ll get hurt, may not even come out of this alive. It’s an inevitability she faces every time any of them go to battle. It’s as much a part of her life as eating or breathing.

She returns to sitting on the edge of her bed. Her fingers dig in and clutch the fabric of her robes, white-knuckled. She’s expected to stay here while the fate of the Soul Society and her friends is decided. Her division is expected to stay out of the way, when their former captain is one leading an attack on them.

She thinks back to that day Nanao came to visit, when she had briefly wondered by she didn’t step outside of her room more often. She hadn’t wanted to give the thought any credence, but it had stuck itself to the back of her mind. On some level she sees the restrictions as an imposition,  as an attempt to keep her under watch. She had played along with it, remaining where she needed to be and doing as she was instructed. It was why the training she did in secret was so liberating.

She shakes her head. It was this sort of thinking that got her into the situation she was in now. She has no one to blame but herself for her past actions, and perhaps they were right to enact these restrictions for that reason.

But they are her actions.

He won't leave unless I face him.

She turns her head to her weapon, laying on to of her quilt. Tobiume, she beckons.

Her zanpakuto’s spirit makes her presence known in Hinamori’s mind, but says nothing.

“Is this what you meant?” she says. “That I have been thinking about ignoring everything to go and confront Captain Aizen?”

Tobiume again says nothing, but a flare of reiatsu comes from her blade. It’s as good as saying ‘yes’.

Hinamori lets out a long breath, as though finally getting something she had on her chest for months. It'd be reckless, no better than when she blindly followed Aizen's wishes when she thought him dead. How can she confront him?

With a grunt she forces the thought away. Her stomach roils and her heart thumps against her chest. She can’t stay here, waiting and hoping. She has to go to the fight. Had she not been training for this very moment?

There will be consequences, perhaps dire enough to ensure she is never a Shinigami ever again, but she can’t sit idly by. She has to face him. She doesn't want the pity of the captains and other lieutenants; she somehow has to show them she is strong enough to stand with them. That she too would do anything to protect her home.

She casts her gaze back to her subordinates. coming and going from the mess hall. Most seem content, but there's still grave expression and an air of somberness around them.

What good reason would he have to leave us behind?

"Tobiume," she says, and despite the steeliness of her voice, her heart flutters with uncertainty. "What I want to do is reckless."

It is.

"I don't know what will face me when I go there, or what will face me when I return, but I cannot stand by and let Captain Aizen hurt my friends and threaten the Soul Society." She bows her head to her zanpakuto. "I know I have put you through much these last two months, but please...will you fight with me now?"

Her zanpakuto's reaitsu flares, becoming a raging fire for a few seconds, as though she were giving a roar. Without question! I will aways fight alongside you.

_________________________________

She received her orders from a Hell butterfly before Genji returns. She is to stay in the Fifth Division and will be protected by her Fourth and Fifth seated officers. There's a wartime exception, allowing Shinigami to carry their zanpakuto, and to be alert for any unusual activity in the Seireitei.

Genji returns with similar orders hlf an hour later, and it sends the division into a frenzy. Officer race back to their barracks and spread the word to those bewildered by the sudden change.

Eventually, Genji arrives at her room, with their Fourth and Fifth seated officers in tow.

"There has been rapid developments after Kurosaki Ichigo invaded Hueco Mundo," he informs her, kneeling at her doorway with his head bowed. “The Captain-Commander has reason to believe that Cap – that Aizen will invade the World of the Living today at midday.”

The air is swept from Hinamori’s lungs in a gasp. How can it be so soon? She had thought it would be a day or more. She didn’t have much time to prepare.

Genji mistakes her apprehension for worry. “You’ll be safe here, Lieutenant. I’ll be coordinating everyone from here. We will be following the Captain-Commanders orders for our officers to be posted in the Rukongai in case the Arrancar somehow make it here. If they come into contact with Aizen, they are to not engage in battle with him.” He struggles to get the next sentences out. “Given that we were under the influence of his shikai, it means we are susceptible to fall…under an illusion. If he uses that on us…”

“Understood,” she says, not wanting to hear the rest. “Thank you, Isawa-kun. I'll stay here.”

After Genji leaves and she thanks her Fifth and Fourth seats, Hinamori shuts her door. She swallows back the bile that rose from lying to Genji and her officers. She’s slow to move to the centre of her room. Despite the shock of it, she is not deterred by the information Genji provided; this is only a setback she needs to overcome.

She only has three hours to come up with a plan. Her only exit is either her window or her balcony. Most of her subordinates would be dispatched to the Rukongai within the hour, and there would be just under a hundred still in the barracks based on what Genji showed her last month.

She wont be able to convince the officers posted at her door to let her go outside, and refuses to use hakufuku on anyone. If she escape and uses a concealment kido, she could bypass most officers and find an isolated area to create a senkaimon. Where would be isolated in a time like this? What concealment spell would work best and not leave a trance until she's long gone? Who are the biggest threats to her plan? She winces at how much this mindset reminds her of when she planned to escape the cell and confront Hitsugaya months ago.

Without realising, she turns her head to the figurines on her shelf. The boy and the girl continue to smile at her, but she cannot return it. Hitsugaya will be at the battle. What will he think? He'll lecture her after the battle, obviously; perhaps tell her how foolish her actions are ad not speak to her for some days. But maybe, he'd understand. Like her, he too is dedicated to his occupation and the protection of Soul Society and it's residents. Despite his perchant for following code of conduct and laws of the Soul Society, she could imagine him doing something similar to her if he were in her place. Hadn't he done so only a few months ago?

You came to help me, she thinks. Even when I wouldn't listen to you and didn't want to believe what you were saying, you came to help me. Perhaps now, I can come to help you. Other Shinigami come to mind, friends and subordinates. I want to help all of you too, as you have done for me.

Joining the simmering anger is a determination strong enough to rid her of the anxious jitters and hone her focus on forming a coherant plan.

________________________________

She stares at her reflection, having just finish tying her ribbon over her hair cloth. She has looked like this in months, it’s as if she’s staring at a ghost. The bags under her eyes are gone at least, and despite appearance, she is not the same Soul who once wore the same clothes and accessories. When she returns from this battle, she’ll have changed again. Hopefully for the

Stepping out the bathroom, she glances at her lieutenant’s badge lying on her chest of drawers. When she picks it up, there a weight to it that hadn’t previously been there. She ties it around her arm with reverence. Despite what she’s about to do, she vows she will honour this position on the battlefield.

Strapping Tobiume to her hip, she then summons for a Hellbutterfly. While waiting for the creature, casts her senses out. In line with Genji’s information, the captains and lieutenants gather at fifteen minutes to midday together at the central Senkaimon. Their reiatsu gradually vanish one by one as they pass through the gateway.

I’ll be seeing you soon. Despite the anxiety and steely determination running through her, she can’t help but smile at the thought.

The Hell butterfly flies through her open window. The curtains flutter around it and behind the branches of the trees in the courtyard sway too and fro. The Hell butterfly lands on her shoulder, and she leans forward closes the window.

After the last captains goes through the Senkaimon, she waits. In that time, she stares at the books Aizen gave her, at the sketchbooks will with drawings of him, and at her reflection in the window.

I will face you, she vows, schooling her expression to one of stern resolve. You are a traitor to the Soul Society, an enemy to all the Worlds.

After fifteen minutes, she takes in a long breath, and at the exhale, she raises her hands. This is it.

 I will show you that you do not affect me or the Fifth Division anymore.

She’ll only have a minute at most before her Fourth and Fifth seat realise she’s not in her room. She whispers the incantation for a high-level concealment kido. Before she even utters the last word, she walks to the door to her balcony. Her limbs thrum with anticipation and nerves as she slides it aside quietly.

Then, she leaps up to the railing and bolts off, flying through the air, her gaze on the sky high above. Before her feet touch the ground, Tobiume's flames heat her blood, ready for battle, and her heart soars with a determination that surpasses any shame she has for escaping like this.

But then, the memory of Hitsugaya in the World of the Living comes to mind. She’d ask him not to kill Aizen. Sorrow briefly pricks at her heart. Forgive me, Hitsugaya-kun she thinks, feet only a few meters from the dirt..

As soon as she lands, she sprints in the directions of a training ground in the woods. Everything passes her in a blur.

I’ll show you and everyone else I’m better now.

_____________________________

Next chapter >>

[nightjarred]

i just learned at my mandarim class that the plum tree/plum flowers are one of the "five knights among the flowers", and it symbolizes the coming of winter and the cold itself. Not me reminding instantly of HyouTobi, right?

[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 :)

[darkroguescribe]

Remember Me

Rating: T

Characters: Toshiro Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, Rangiku Matsumoto

Summary: Momo and Toshiro had been friends since childhood. But when Toshiro disappears one day, Momo is left wondering what happened to him and why he left without saying a word to her.

Status: In-Progress 6/?

Read it on Fanfiction.net or AO3

[hitsuhina-week]

❄️🌸Hitsuhina Weekend🌸❄️

🌸Dates🌸

Saturday 4th- Sunday 5th March (and 6th as an extra for the different timezones)

❄️Themes❄️

Saturday: Junrinan / Motivation / Peach Tree / Time

Sunday: Stars / Morning / Zanpakuto / Teamwork

If your theme suggestion didn’t make it for this event fear not! It’ll likely be used in a Hitsuhina event later in the year. If you’re not familiar with events like this or aren’t sure what the rules are, please read below the ‘keep reading’ to read the guidelines and rules for the weekend.

Otherwise, I hope to see all of your submissions in two weeks time!

Rules & Guidelines:

You can submit as many pieces as you want. It can just be one submission based on one or more of the themes, a few submissions each based on one or more of the themes, or you can take up the ultimate challenge great a single single submission that incorporates all of the themes; it’s totally up to you!

Tag your submission/s with either ‘#hitsuhina weekend’ or ‘#hitsuhina weekend 2023’ to be included in the event.

Submissions can be fanart, fanfiction, edits, metas, AMVs, gif sets,  and/or headcanons.

Submissions should include the name of the event (Hitsuhina Weekend) and the theme/s you are basing your submission on either in the description or author’s note.

Your submission should not be a tracing or copy of an existing artwork or fanfiction. Any entries that are will not be included  as part of Hitsuhina Weekend. As such, your submissions should an original work by you. For edits and AMVs, do not use fanart (unless it’s your own) as part of the submission.

Give credit where it is needed (such as a link and the OP’s name to a stock image or reference for drawings, or to photos for edits/aesthetic/mood boards).

You can create as many pieces as you want for any of the six themes.

Mature content isn’t allowed.

You may include other characters in the pieces, but the focus should be Hitsuhina. Of course, this is a day to celebrate Hitsuhina, not to undermine or bash on other characters/pairings. Any submissions with this will not be included as part of the event.

[matchabucks]

last night i had a dream where all my bleach otps became canon. (ichiruki, ulquihime, ginran and hitsuhina).

just to be extremely salty when i woke up. oh well, it was a beautiful dream though. would love for it to become reality :)

[sunimage]

HitsuHina Fanfiction

Hello! I absolutely love Toshiro Hitsugaya and Momo Hinamori together, so I started writing some stories about them. I want to share them with you! The themes may vary.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14122136/1/Mine

A ONE-SHOT series in which they are the main focus (duh). It’s rated M for hinted and actual mature content. 

-

A small preview of the second chapter:

"I can't believe I agreed to this."

He complained, nervously running a hand through silver locks. Some big-shot Captain he was. Apparently, all it took was a pair of pretty brown eyes and boom. Defeat.

"Oh, well I can!" He heard her chuckle all the way from the bathroom. A furious blush formed on his cheeks as a rather indecent image of Momo appeared in his mind. Damn the little witch and her stupid, infuriating creativity. What was it that got him? Punish me, Captain? Ridiculous.

"Stop it with the sulking already, you're killing the vibe!"

The bathroom door shot open with a bang. Toshiro's eyes widened with disbelief as his not-so-secret girlfriend of three months and ten days stepped into view, all dolled up and ready to go. Had she raided Rangiku's closet without his knowledge? There was absolutely no way in hell he would let her go out dressed like that.

"You like it?"

He frowned. Who the hell shows up in too-short a skirt, some sorry excuse for a top and asks such stupid questions? Damn right he liked it. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that, to his proficient knowledge, every single living male in Karakura Town will undoubtedly also indulge in looking at her creamy legs and exciting cleavage and we couldn't have that, now, could we?

"Change. Now."

The only other viable alternative was having him suspended for mercilessly freezing half the population and living as a fugitive for the rest of his pathetic life. If it weren't for the fact that he enjoyed giving out orders so much, he might've actually considered it. The weather in this irritating town had always been too hot for his liking.

"Bohoo. You're no fun. I'm keeping the top though."

Thankful that his stubborn girlfriend had somewhat complied, thus diminishing his punishment as a serial killer, Toshiro closed his eyes and sighed.

Finally, a moment of peace. Now he could properly think about the next best course of action. He would have to pay for the stupid hotel room (a total ripoff in his opinion but hey, his money, her choice, apparently) and then convince Momo to return home early. He would have to carefully remind her that, despite the fact they weren't on a mission, he was, in all actuality, still the very capable Captain of The 10th Division.

The slutty Lieutenant had wanted to go party with her loudmouthed human friends and, to his utter shame, he had been tricked into tagging along. On top of that, she viciously tempted him with her scandalous little outfit, probably causing him to pop a vein somewhere.

The nice guy act was approaching a rapid and enjoyable end. He wasn't (usually) a fan of pulling rank on others but if there's anything he has learnt during this foolish little escapade, it was that desperate times call for desperate measures.

The faster they returned to The Soul Society, the better.

[soybeanprophecy]

is it ridiculous?

notes: i have no idea, inspired by the perfect man by cutecrazyice (a sasusaku fic from like 2011 lmao). also do not know if i can write this well lmao i am trying my best hahahahH disclaimer: definitely do not own bleach. when are they animating the last arc!!!!??? also au! excited for the new chapter tho!!! also this was written for hitsuhina week 2021 this year but honestly it's so late and i'm not even entirely sure which theme it was supposed to fit (au and mutual pining??) so i am very sorry!! i hope you enjoy this cheesy-ass fic and i hope its not too long and too much of a mess. i apologize in advance lmao

Summary: Hinamori Momo first meets Hitsugaya Toshiro on the playground at the tender young age of six. They go on to become inseparable, meaningful, and essential to each other—childhood friends that were, are, and will be people who belong together for the rest of this lifetime and beyond.

Link for those who like using ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33041425 

-------

Hinamori Momo first meets Hitsugaya Toshiro at the tender age of six on the playground in the local neighborhood. She had been grasping the handle of her bucket firmly, brows furrowed, determined to build a castle in the sandbox, when a blur of white to her left suddenly catches her attention.

“The swings!” A boy yells as he runs past her. He has white hair, and Momo can’t help but gasp in disbelief. She has never seen a person with that color hair before.

He immediately skids to a halt, whipping around to glare ferociously at her. “What are you looking at?” he demands, stepping into and striding over to her spot in the sandbox.

She drops her bucket and stands, huffing, suddenly put off by his attitude. “Nothing! I was just sitting here, minding my own business,” she pouts, crossing her arms. 

“Well, I heard you scoff,” he snaps back.

“I didn’t scoff!” she replies indignantly.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Did not—aah!” 

Momo stares up at her perpetrator in scandalised shock, her mouth wide open at the slightly guilty look forming on the boy’s face. “I can’t believe,” she sputters, flailing. “That you pushed me!”

His frown deepens, and he stares off to the side petulantly. “It’s just sand. And well, you made fun of me first.”

Made fun of? Momo’s jaw drops again, her mind racing to understand his response. When did she make fun of this boy? She notices the slight downturn of his brows and the scuffing of his feet, and despite his thorny demeanor, he looks smaller and lonelier by the minute. She cocks her head and studies him, really looks at him, and it suddenly dawns on her—he had thought she had mocked his hair.

“Oh! I wasn’t really—I mean, I was shocked, but—well, just surprised, really,” she nervously rambles, waving her hands to indicate innocence. “I had just never seen anyone with your hair color before. I really do honestly think it’s...” she pauses shyly, peering up at him from the ground. “...nice.”

The boy’s eyebrows lift into his hairline at her words, and Momo notes that there is a redness that seeps into his ears. “W-whatever,” he spits out, deftly looking away from her.

She smiles at him, and decides that she likes this boy. “Your white hair is cool, Shiro-chan!”

His head whips back around, and the hostile glare is back. “...Shiro-chan…?” he stomps his feet angrily. “My name is Hitsugaya Toshiro, not Shiro-chan!”

“Hinamori Momo,” she stands and brushes off sand, grinning at her newfound friend. “Let’s go play on the swings, Shiro-chan!” she grabs his hand and begins excitedly dragging him towards the swingset.

Toshiro yelps at the weight, nearly toppling over. “Hey! It’s Hitsugaya Toshiro! And no, I don’t want to go on the swings!”

“I heard you yelling about the swings earlier,” she responds with a knowing look, and he frowns at her apparent attention to detail. “Come on, I’ll push you!”

He reluctantly follows her to the swings, and she gestures eagerly for him to sit. As she pushes him higher and higher, the frown starts to slip off his face and she grins secretly to herself. Shiro-chan really is too cute, she muses, watching him laugh in delight as he swings in the air.

“You have to push me too,” she shouts at him as he flies up into the sky.

“As if!” he yells back.

He pushes her anyway.

-------

It is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

They are inseparable as the years pass, and an unlikely bond forms between two childhood friends with polar opposite personalities.

“Momo-chan! Are you coming to the park afterschool?”

She nods brightly, zipping up her backpack with a secure flick. “Mm-hm! I’ll be there,” she says, smiling widely at her friend. “I just have to wait for Shiro-chan!”

Her friend pauses to grimace, a frown slipping into her expression. “Does he have to come?” she wrinkles her nose at the very idea of hanging out with Hitsugaya. “He doesn’t fit in at all.”

Momo nods firmly. “He’s really not that bad,” she tries to reason. “He’s a meanie sometimes, but he’s a very good friend and person. People just don’t give him a chance,” she states resolutely, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know…” the frown on her friend’s face doesn’t lessen. “...Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t come.”

“I’m not leaving without him,” she says, shaking her head decisively. Momo stands, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she waves, and without looking back at her friend’s likely sour reaction, she leaves the classroom, the door banging behind her.

Toshiro later looks at her questioningly as she catches him leaving his locker. “Weren’t you going to hang out with your friends today?”

She dismisses his query, pulling him by the arm. “Nah, let’s get watermelon shaved ice instead! I’ve been craving it!”

“I’m pretty sure you were supposed to—”

“It’s so hot!” she cuts him off, fanning herself as they stumble together down the hallway. “It’s a perfect day for something cold and sweet,” she says, wagging her pointer finger. “Your treat, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya!” he retorts out of habit, dropping the earlier subject. “Stop calling me that nickname; we’re in junior high already!”

Momo laughs, patting him on the head. “But you’re always going to be Shiro-chan to me,” she says gleefully, ruffling his hair as he tries to pull away. “Little, cute, grumpy Shiro-chan!”

He snatches her hand out of his white unruly locks, glowering up at her jovial expression. “I’m not little and cute!” he exclaims angrily. “And just you wait, Hinamori. I’m going to be big and tall and handsome!��� 

The petulant response just makes her laugh again. “Sure, sure,” she waves her arm nonchalantly, before stopping to give him a pointed look. “Just don’t go around threatening to beat people up,” Momo scolds, frowning slightly. “I heard from Aizen-sensei that you almost got into a fight yesterday.”

Toshiro has the decency to look mildly chastised, his gaze downcast. “...They were making fun of you,” he begrudgingly admits, staring at his sneakers.

“They’re just mean boys,” she rationalizes, but tilts her head contemplatively, a small, fond smile growing on her lips. “...But thank you, Hitsugaya-kun.” 

He snaps his head up, wide-eyed, before darting his gaze away hurriedly. “W-whatever. And I’m not paying for your dessert,” he quickly recovers from his embarrassment, a smirk lining the corner of his mouth. “...Bed-wetter Momo.”

“Shiro-chan! That’s so mean!” Momo shouts childishly, punching him on the shoulder. “You know I don’t wet the bed anymore!”

“That’s what you get for calling me ‘Shiro-chan,’” he sticks out his tongue. “And you did that until the third grade!”

“No, I didn’t!” she pouts. “Take it back!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

The bickering continues down the hallway and out into the street. 

-------

Hinamori Momo goes on her first date in her junior year of highschool, when a red-faced, fumbling Kira Izuru approaches and awkwardly asks her out.

“Of course, Kira-kun,” she answers, cheeks rosy and shy. This is her first date ever, and she suddenly forgets that she has been friends with Kira for over a year now.

“What do I do? What do I do?” she hyperventilates to Hitsugaya later, frantically pacing about the room. 

He is strangely quiet throughout her word vomit, and she doesn’t register the poorly concealed expression of mild irritation and discontent on his face. 

“...He’s just Kira,” Toshiro eventually responds, brows furrowed. “You don’t have to be any different around him.”

“B-but, it’s a date!” she sputters, still panicked. “I’ve never been on a date before! I didn’t even think people noticed me, let alone a good friend!”

He scoffs. “People notice you,” he mutters under his breath, a sour look forming. 

Momo ignores his mumbling, continuing to gesture widely. “Plus,” she pauses, dramatically flinging her arms to better showcase her histrionics. “It’s...Kira-kun!”

“Why does that matter?” he asks, a delicate brow arched. 

“He’s—I don’t know—like popular, and tall, and—I mean, good-looking!” she laments, throwing herself onto the bed. “I don’t know how to handle that,” she mutters into her pillow.

Toshiro shifts in her desk chair, clearly uncomfortable. Something in his face darkens, and he studies the floor with an unusual amount of interest. “...That’s what you see in him, huh.”

“What?” she sits up and shoots him a confused look. “I mean, I guess…”

He swallows, and Momo frowns, puzzled. There are very few moments in their friendship that she has had trouble reading him, but the carefully blank expression on his face only bewilders her.

“...Just be yourself,” he says, after a moment of hesitation. “It’s his loss if he doesn’t like you for you,” he adds and shrugs, pulling at the loose thread of fabric on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be.” 

It appears as if he wants to say more, but he stays silent, still picking at the strand of his hoodie. 

Momo purses her lips, considering his advice. “I...really appreciate that, Hitsugaya-kun,” she says, tucking her legs underneath herself, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “Thank you.”

“Whatever,” he immediately snaps, but Momo knows that his ears light up anyway. She giggles, and is comforted by this Shiro-chan, whom she knows like the back of her hand. It feels like a return to the comfortable routine they share, and she feels slightly relieved by the familiar territory.

“Just don’t be mad if he doesn’t like you because you’re a bed-wetter,” he taunts, grinning. 

She throws him a dirty look, sticking out her tongue in response. “That’s mean, Shiro-chan! That was in third grade!”

“It’s Hitsugaya! Stop with that nickname!”

“Not unless you stop saying I wet the bed!”

“But you do wet the bed!”

“Mou, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya!”

They dissolve into their usual bickering, and Momo laughs freely, hoping that their friendship never changes.

…

“Um, I just—I don’t think it will work out,” Kira later tells her as he scratches the back of his head stiffly, his gaze not quite reaching hers. “Plus, I think—I don’t want to intrude,” he adds hesitantly.

Momo’s smile drops and her shoulders sag, and disappointment fills her. She had thought that the date went well, and that the two of them had a lot of fun together, sharing stories and experiences with vigor and laughter. 

“Oh,” is all she can say, twisting her bracelet around her wrist anxiously. “...Although, it’s...really not an intrusion, though,” she pauses after processing his latter statement and tilts her head up at him, ponderingly. 

He just shuffles uncomfortably, looking around the hallway. “It’s just, I don’t know—it didn’t seem like you were int—” he immediately cuts himself off as Toshiro slides into view.

“Hinamori,” the white-haired boy greets, handing her a math textbook.  

She receives the book gratefully. “Ah, thanks, Hitsugaya-kun,” she nods at her friend, “Do you need it back by tonight?”

Toshiro shakes his head. “No, keep it. I know you need it for the entire weekend.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she whines. “Not everyone is a prodigy like you, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya—”

“Uh, I should—I have to go,” Kira blurts out, gaze shifting wildly between the two arguing friends. “I—uh, nice seeing you, Momo,” he says awkwardly, before pausing to look at the other party. “And, uh, you too, Hitsugaya.”

He all but sprints down the hallway.

Momo turns to her companion, both parts bemused and downcast. “He...he said he didn’t think it would work,” she clarifies after a beat, chewing her bottom lip, staring off in the direction Kira disappeared to. “...I guess he didn’t like me after all.”

Toshiro takes in her despondent expression, and sighs. “It’s his loss, Momo,” he says gently, and reaches out to pat her on the arm, rubbing circles softly into the crook of her elbow. “If he can’t appreciate you for who you are, he doesn’t deserve you.”

She smiles at him weakly, but gratefully. “...Yeah...you’re right. Thanks, Shiro-chan,” she mutters quietly, her mouth lifting higher. 

He doesn’t comment on her use of his nickname this time, and she leans into him with a thankful grin. Although he usually pulls away and quips at her when she smothers him with physical affection, he doesn’t move when she lays her head on his shoulder.

They stay that way for a while.

-------

She doesn’t get approached again, and Momo fleetingly wonders if she is doing something wrong. She doesn’t dwell on the topic of her love life however, and spends the rest of highschool drowning in her academics, standardized testing, extracurriculars, and college applications.

Toshiro gets into Tokyo University early in their senior year on a soccer scholarship, and she rolls her eyes in irritation at the ease in which he moves through life. He wants to be a professional soccer player, and she has no doubt that he will become the best player in the country.

“Work hard, play hard,” he once tells her with a mouthful of amanatto made by his grandmother, shrugging when she asks him how he became a prodigy. “That’s the secret to success.” 

She just wrinkles her nose in response, throwing her pillow at his face. Jerk. 

Instead, she resolves to work harder and studies day and night to get into the same university, and the hard work pays off when she receives her acceptance letter in the spring. 

She is so ecstatic that she gets to move to Tokyo (oh my god, Tokyo!) to study literary journalism (her dream) and be with her best friend (to boot)! 

Toshiro doesn’t act surprised when she informs him of the good news.

“I didn’t doubt you at all,” he tells her nonchalantly, zipping up his soccer bag. She frowns a little at his indifference, but when he stands up to look at her, the silent glint of pride in his eyes warms her heart. 

The year feels like it zips by with all of the preparation and celebration activities, and she is so preoccupied that she completely forgets about prom.

“Who are you taking to prom, Momo-chan?” Rangiku, one of her closest friends, asks as she leans casually over the lunch table, swiping at one of her fries. 

“I’unno,” she answers absentmindedly, furiously crossing out and circling words on her English essay. She chews on the eraser of her mechanical pencil, anxiously scribbling out notes in the margins of the paper.

“Momo-chan! Are you even paying attention?” the busty strawberry blonde makes a grab for her pencil. “Stop editing your English homework!”

Momo swats her away, ducking away from her friend’s hands. “Rangiku!” she complains. “I need to finish this!”

“But, Momo-chan, this is serious!” her friend whines, shaking her head frantically. “You work too hard these days! When will you let loose and have a little fun?”

Exhaling in mild exasperation, Momo puts down her homework. “I need to do well in English to hopefully qualify for that scholarship,” she explains, pursing her lips. “I don’t have the money to go to Tokyo otherwise.”

Rangiku pauses in a moment of brief maturity and understanding, patting her lightly on the arm. “You will, Momo,” she says with utmost certainty. “I know you’ll be great, okay? Besides, I’m not worried about your academics, I’m worried about you becoming an old cat lady!”

The dark-haired teenager rolls her eyes heavenward at her friend’s dramatics, but she sighs anyway, deciding to humor her antics momentarily. “Okay, fine. What’s the problem?”

“Who are you taking to prom?” Rangiku repeats, leaning in even closer. 

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly, shrugging. “No one’s really asked, I guess.”

Rangiku turns to the side and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like he hasn’t asked yet? and he’s so stupid before Momo interrupts her maniacal mumbling with, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine, Momo-chan, dear,” the blonde answers with gritted teeth, but Momo just raises her eyebrows, not believing a single word. 

She decides to ignore her friend’s weird behavior, changing the subject to something she’s thought about recently. “It’s been a little weird between us after that one date last year,” she taps her chin thoughtfully. “But maybe Kira-kun? I can always ask him, I guess.”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” her friend answers quickly. “I don’t think Kira is the best option—”

The conversation is interrupted by the loud thumping of textbooks onto the table, and Momo turns to see her best friend groaning as he slides into the seat next to her, dropping his head onto the pile of books. 

“Ah, Hitsugaya-kun,” she sympathizes with a pitying smile. “Finals are terrible, aren’t they?”

“Who cares about multivariable calculus anyway?” he gripes, lifting his head weakly. “Why do they have all these requirements for athletes?”

Momo scoffs lightly. “Serves you right for qualifying for an athletic and academic combined scholarship,” she chastises, resting her chin on her palm. “And for skipping the general requirements and going straight to the advanced classes!”

“Yeah, taichou,” Rangiku agrees, studying her manicured nails in barely concealed disinterest. “Serves you right for being both the soccer captain and a major nerd.”

Toshiro shoots her a dirty look, unzipping his soccer bag and pulling out a stack of papers. “Don’t think you won’t get even more paperwork now, Ms. Soccer-team-manager,” he says sternly, gloating at how pale her face becomes. “What were you guys talking about, anyway?”

Rangiku recovers rather quickly, an amused smirk forming on her face. “Oh, we were just talking about Momo-chan’s date for the prom,” she flutters her eyelashes obnoxiously, kicking him under the table.

He winces. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’?! That’s all you have to say, taichou?” Rangiku asks through a strained smile, leaning even closer to the smaller white-haired teen in intimidation.

Momo sighs, placing her chin on the palms of her hands. “I don’t know—we were saying, maybe Kira-kun? He and I have been a little weird though...I honestly don’t think anyone’s interested.”

She doesn’t notice the stare-down engaged between the two people next to her, broken when Rangiku coughs pointedly. 

“...Hinamori,” Toshiro starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “If you want, uh, I mean,” he stumbles over his words, cursing himself in his head. He pauses, and then straightens in a sudden burst of confidence: “I’ll take you to prom.”

Momo blinks, eyes wide in surprise. She never really considered that Hitsugaya would ever want to go to prom, let alone be her date for such a “frivolous and unnecessary” event (a direct quote). “A-are you sure, Hitsugaya-kun?” she asks, with genuine concern. “I didn’t think you would want to go to prom!”

“It’s a necessary part of the highschool experience,” he reasons logically, looking everywhere but at her. “And, if you want to go, then that’s enough of a reason.”

Her jaw drops, and she takes in his heartfelt words with a wide smile. “Shiro-chan! That’s so kind!” she yells, diving forward to hug him. 

He tries to duck out of the way to no avail, his neck flushed as she squeezes the life out of him. “It’s Hitsugaya! And don’t make me take the offer back!”

“Thank you so much, Hitsugaya-kun!” she mumbles happily into his shirt, and he can feel her giddy smile through the loose fabric of his soccer jersey. The look on his face softens as he tightens his grip around her, and Rangiku fondly watches the pair of best friends with a small smile on her face. 

Stupid idiots.

...

Prom was a wild, hysterical whirlwind of events that included a group of students getting busted for bringing alcohol (likely Rangiku-related), a fistfight that started for no particular reason (the gymnasium ended up trashed), and a dramatic love confession between childhood friends—

“Wow, that was a crazy night, huh?” Momo exhales loudly, rolling her eyes at the antics of her classmates. “Rangiku really got away by the skin of her teeth.”

Toshiro crosses his arms over the tie of his tuxedo. “No, I don’t think so,” he responds with an annoyed huff, no doubt thinking of a million ways that he can punish his team manager later. “It’s because that stupid student chaperone is fond of her.”

“Well, Ichimaru-san and Rangiku go way back,” she reasons, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I guess it makes sense that he’s fond of her.” She leans back, looking up at the twinkling of stars in the sky, her hands wound behind the back of her puffy dress. 

“Speaking of going way back…” she says slowly, feeling strangely sentimental and sappy. “I can’t believe Renji finally confessed his feelings for Rukia tonight! And in front of everyone, no less! He really waited for Kuchiki-san to graduate before the grand gesture, but her brother’s definitely going to find out now!”

Her rambling stops when she notices her companion’s lack of response. “...Hitsugaya-kun?”

He looks especially thoughtful tonight, and there is a faraway look in his eyes that she cannot quite understand. There is some hesitation in the way he moves forward to speak, but his poker face slides into place firmly before she can begin to analyze his behavior.

“It’s about time, right?” she says quickly, trying to make sense of the tense atmosphere that has just formed around them. “I think it’s weird to date your childhood friends because you grew up in diapers and all, but whatever works for them, I guess!”

He pauses, and something in his eyes dim. “Weird?”

“Yeah,” she continues, oblivious to the change in his expression. “I mean, it’d be super awkward, right? Like, think about me and you, for example. It’d be so ridiculous!”

His face closes up completely, so quickly that she doesn’t even have time to register the change. “...Yeah,” he mutters, twisting around. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Hitsugaya-kun?” Momo asks in concern, baffled by his sudden mood shift. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he answers, his back firmly turned. “Let’s go back.” 

They walk home in silence, and Momo only remembers the icy demeanor and the feeling of something she hasn’t experienced since the day they first met—being shut out.

-------

College starts and there is a flurry of orientation and extracurricular activities and meeting new people, and Momo starts to get busier and busier.

She is on a prestigious scholarship that requires her utmost diligence (and the keeping of a certain GPA), while Toshiro is the busiest athlete in the entire city. He makes soccer captain his freshman year of college, and is thrust into tournaments, practices, and unfortunately, paperwork. 

By the start of their sophomore year, Momo starts to feel like they are drifting further and further apart, and she is briefly sad at the thought of separation. 

She finds herself missing her best friend’s presence, banter, and biting remarks, and resolves to make more of an effort to spend time with him.

“Ugh, my brain is melting,” she complains to her fellow literature classmate, Ichigo Kurosaki, as they make their way across campus. 

He laughs, slinging his backpack onto one shoulder, his other arm carrying his soccer bag. “Yeah, that midterm sucked. Royally.” Ichigo adjusts his grip on the duffel bag, cocking his head to look over at her, eyebrow raised. “You coming with?” he asks, nudging his chin towards the field.

Momo nods eagerly. “Yeah,” she answers, following his lead. “I told Hitsugaya-kun I would wait for him after practice.”

“Good. That dude needs to loosen up sometimes,” he says gruffly. “He doesn’t know how to chill out.”

She laughs at the grumpiness on his face, but she knows that the two are good friends, despite the constant insults and hostile comments. That is just how Hitsugaya Toshiro makes friends, she guesses.

As they approach the edge of the soccer field, Momo spots the captain casually leaning against the goal post, his hands in his pockets.

“Ah, Hitsuga—” she starts excitedly, but immediately stops and freezes when a black-haired girl comes into view, tossing a soccer ball up and down. The girl says something that makes Toshiro startle, and he retorts back, which makes her giggle up at him. He makes a move to lean down a little closer, and Momo abruptly turns away, unable to keep watching.

Acid burns her throat, and she swallows painfully, her heart thundering in her ears. A million questions rush through her mind. Who is she? Why are they so friendly? When did this happen? And most importantly: Why does it hurt so much?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ichigo asks in concern, when he realizes that his companion has suddenly stopped walking. 

“I—It’s nothing,” she manages to stammer out, trying to collect her thoughts and emotions. Toshiro has never even mentioned a girl being in his life before, in all of the years that she had known him. Or maybe he was really good at hiding it? Maybe she didn’t know him that well after all. And why did she care so much? 

Ugh, she was rambling in her own mind!

“Oh, hey, it’s Karin,” Ichigo’s eyes light up in recognition as he follows her gaze. “She’s my little freshman sister, but she’s real good at soccer, that squirt. They’re pretty good friends now,” he explains, gesturing to the two people on the field.

“Oh,” she says, and bites her lip. 

They are good friends. 

Huh. 

Ichigo immediately notices her less-than-enthusiastic response, studying her out of the corner of his eye. “Mo,” he calls out, hesitantly. “...You good?”

The genuine concern in his voice snaps her out of it, and Momo forces a smile onto her face. “Yeah, everything’s fine!” she tries to stay upbeat, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Uh, I’m actually gonna head back instead, if that’s okay. I’m feeling a bit tired.”

He only looks more concerned at her sudden need to leave. “Wait, you sure? I’m sure the captain would be happy to see you—”

“No, no,” she shakes her head quickly. “I’ll—uh, come by another day! He—he seems busy, anyway.”

At this, Ichigo just seems confused. “Nah, you know it’s not like that, right? Toshiro would love to see you—”

But Momo can’t take hearing anymore, and she just bolts, waving goodbye to her friend. “Sorry, Ichigo! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

As she flies out of campus in the direction of her dorm, she bites her lip to keep the frustrated tears from forming at the corners of her eyes. The sight of her building finally allows her to slow down, and she belatedly realizes that her hands had formed fists so tight that her fingernails had dug into her palm. 

That was not a normal reaction, she tells herself in irritation. That was not a normal reaction to seeing your friend with someone else. 

The thought of losing Toshiro, of having his priorities shift to someone else more important in his life, absolutely terrifies her. She sniffles, angry at herself. This is so selfish; this is so stupid!

She cannot take up his time, his life, his livelihood, like that. She is just his childhood friend, and who can expect to always keep one’s childhood friend as the first and only priority in their life?

Who did she think she was, his girlfriend? 

That would be...it would be…it would be—

Her mouth drops open.

—exactly what she wanted.

And it finally dawns on Momo how she feels—how she had felt her entire life, likely—about her best friend, Hitsugaya Toshiro. 

No, no, no, no—this cannot be happening, she starts to panic, the tears rushing back. I can’t possibly—no, it’s not possible.

She slaps herself silly, exhaling heavily at the implication of her own thoughts. She refuses to let this happen. She refuses to ruin a perfectly good and fine relationship with her own stupid, and probably fleeting, feelings.

Suddenly resolute, she shakes her head to clear her mind. This will not deter her, and she will find a way to move forward without getting stuck.

…

Momo manages to weave and bob her way through the rest of the semester, avoiding him whenever she can and making excuse after excuse after excuse.

She decides to keep some distance between them to clear her mind, and hopefully stomp out the remnants of feelings she has recently discovered. (Spoiler alert: It doesn’t work).

It is their winter break when she visits her hometown, and subsequently meets up with one of her oldest friends.

“Hey, Momo-chan, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Rangiku trails off, clearly trying to pick her words carefully. “Are...you and taichou okay?”

Momo tenses up briefly, but the moment passes as soon as it comes. “Yeah, why?” she asks nonchalantly, painting her pinky toe nail a delicate shade of green.

“I dunno, uh,” her friend responds untactfully, stumbling over her own words. “He’s just, uh, upset, I guess? Or just in a really bad mood lately, but you can’t always tell with taichou, haha!” Her laugh is strained, and Momo rolls her eyes at the blonde’s inability to navigate sensitive topics.

“I’ve just been really busy,” she responds curtly, effectively cutting off the topic. Rangiku studies her with a hesitant glance, and Momo can feel the weight of her pointed gaze. She just sighs, stopping her ministrations to look up at her friend. “It’s just complicated, okay?”

The strawberry blonde pouts, stretching herself closer on the bed. “Momo, you know you can always talk to me about it, right?”

“Yes,” she replies, swallowing lightly. It is still hard to talk about, but Momo knows she can’t avoid the topic forever. “It’s just—I don’t know! Hitsugaya-kun is suddenly out here, with his stupid soccer talent, and stupid hair, and stupid height—did you even realize that he’s grown so tall? Ugh, it’s frustrating!” she throws her hands up, rambling with a vehement passion. “And he’s so popular now! And he has so many friends? And the girls—don’t even get me started—I don’t even know what’s going on anymore!”

Rangiku blanches at her rant, surprised. “W-what?”

“Maybe I’m just lonely!” she continues her tirade, much too heated to notice her friend’s reaction. “I just want to go out and live! And maybe date! Is that so much to ask for?”  

“Well, all you do is study, and when you’re not studying, you’re spending time with him,” Rangiku explains pragmatically, but the cheshire grin is hovering underneath her desperate attempt to keep a straight face. “It’s not exactly conducive to meeting anyone else.”

And for once, she...has a point. Momo considers this, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “...Yeah, you’re actually right,” she draws out slowly, chewing on her bottom lip. “I...I think I know what to do.”

“Great!” Rangiku cheers. “Finally!”

…

“Momo, are you sure about this?” Orihime Inoue asks dubiously, anxiously scanning the room filled with chattering students. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this...blind dating thing.”

“Of course, ‘hime!” she responds enthusiastically, although the anxiety is rolling around in her gut. She pumps her fist to encourage herself, even though her nervous mind is frantically telling her to leave and never come back. “We have to put ourselves out there!”

Her friend peeks out from behind her apprehensively, gnawing at her lip. “I—I really don’t know, Momo—”

“No! You need to get over that highschool crush of yours!” she cuts her off defiantly. She had met Orihime, who is currently working as a pastry chef in culinary school, at her local bakery last year. The two had become fast friends, especially with Momo’s penchant for peach tarts and watermelon milk tea. 

“He’s really not—he’s not like that—” Orihime protests, before sighing in defeat. “Alright, you’re right,” she acquiesces, the fire lighting in her eyes. “Let’s do this!”

“Yeah!” 

As the two of them turn towards the congregated group of people, a male student lightly taps Orihime on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you around before,” he casually compliments, his eyes lightly roaming her body. “You from around here?”

She stiffens, waving her hands in polite and mildly nervous frenzy. “Oh, no! I’m a culinary student at the Tokyo School of Culinary Arts,” she clarifies, wincing when he reaches over to pat her shoulder. “I don’t go to Tokyo University.”

“Ah, a chef? That’s nice—”

“Inoue?”

Three heads turn to see Ichigo’s surprised face, and a scowl slowly forms when understanding of the situation dawns in his eyes. The boy in between them pales and retracts his hand, excusing himself quickly.

“Kurosaki-kun?” Orihime gasps, clearly in shock. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Momo interjects, shaking her head to make sense of the entire scene. “You guys know each other?”

“Ah, yes,” the orange-haired girl says quickly, meeting her gaze nervously. “W-we went to Karakura highschool together,” she explains to Momo, her eyes widened with guilt and a tint of shame. 

They...went to highschool together? Momo briefly remembers the description of the “oblivious delinquent jerk who is too stupid to recognize Orihime’s feelings” from one blunt Tatsuki Arisawa.

She immediately puts two and two together, and her jaw drops in realization. “It’s Ichigo?!” she whispers loudly, her gaze piercing in faux accusation. 

Orihime nods quickly, her cheeks flaming red, and Momo facepalms, groaning into her hand. How is it that she has known both of these idiots for almost two years and not put the pieces together earlier? 

“Inoue,” the ignored man in question steps in, a frown firmly settled on his features. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s here for the blind dating event, Ichigo,” Momo indignantly answers for her, when the girl pinks in distress, and gestures around at all the informational signs. “Isn’t it obvious?”

The frown only deepens, his brows pinched. “I didn’t think you would come to something like this.”

Orihime only shrinks in response, looking down at her feet. “I just—um—”

“She doesn’t have to justify herself to you,” Momo cuts in, suddenly annoyed by his insinuation. 

His eyebrows shoot up, and he holds up both hands defensively. “Hey, I’m not trying to ask for justification,” he clarifies, looking troubled. “It’s just—guys can be gross, I guess. I’m just trying to protect—ah, I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.” Ichigo rubs his face, clearly frustrated with himself. “Sorry, Inoue.”

“No, no, no,” she immediately responds, reaching out to touch his arm kindly. “I—I really do appreciate it, Kurosaki-kun.” 

His lips twist up, but his forehead remains pinched. “I—uh,” he starts, before cutting himself off with an irritated frown. “Inoue, can we—could you make some time to talk? With me?” he asks instead, a hesitant tilt to his words, but a resolute glint shining in his eyes.

She studies him fondly, her hand still lightly resting on his arm. “Yeah,” she meets his gaze, staring up at him. “Yeah, I can.” 

Momo observes the pair, rolling her eyes at her good friends in exasperation. These two were idiotic to think anything was ever unrequited, she thinks, but she was nevertheless happy for them. 

“Hey, and you,” Ichigo shifts his attention suddenly to her, a look of disapproval forming on his brow. “It’s unfortunate that the soccer team had to have some business in the area today. He’s not gonna be happy about this, you know.”

“What? Who’s not gonna be happy—”

“Hinamori?”

At the sound of that painfully familiar voice, Momo stops, turning to her side to see the one and only white-haired man of the hour, stalking over towards her with an unhappy glower etched onto his face.

“Speak of the devil,” Ichigo mutters under his breath. 

“What are you doing here?” the soccer captain looks especially agitated, and Momo blinks at the unexpected hostility emanating from his aura. 

“What do you mean, Hitsugaya-kun?” she argues back, upset by his tone. “I’m clearly at a blind-dating event!” She points to the nearby signs again, annoyed at the men in her life’s inabilities to read.

“And, just why, pray tell, are you at a blind-dating event?” he questions, a brow raised.

She bristles at the judgmental lilt in his voice. “I’m just trying to put myself out there! It’s not anything you’ve ever had to worry about, anyway!”

He reels back in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asks, before he registers her statement. “Why are you trying to put yourself out there?”

“Maybe I just want to!” Momo fiercely deflects, defending her pride. “You don’t have to police me just because we’re childhood friends! You can do other things and meet other people too!”

“What are you even talking about?” he spits back, angry and bewildered. “Do you hear yourself? You’re being ridiculous!”

Ichigo and Orihime exchange looks of alarm. Oh no, he said the wrong thing, Orihime mouths to the fellow victim of the argument taking place. Ichigo only nods, frightened, slowly backing away from the two arguing friends.

“Ridiculous? Ridiculous?!” she enunciates furiously, clearly insulted. “I’m being ridiculous, Shiro-chan? I’m an adult, and I can do whatever I want! And that includes dating however many people I want!”

“It’s Hitsugaya,” he snaps back acerbically, almost on impulse. “Just because you’re feeling lonely and undesirable, doesn’t mean you can just go out and shamelessly do whatever you want!”

Orihime and Ichigo freeze. Uh oh. This is bad. This is really bad. They look at each other in unbridled horror.

“...You think I’m lonely and undesirable and shameless…?” Momo whispers, her eyes hidden underneath her bangs. Her body shakes in hot fury, and she cannot help the tears that form at the corner of her eyes.

Just as soon as he says the words, Toshiro pales, aghast. He looks horrified at himself, reaching forward to apologize. “M-Momo, I—I didn’t mean—”

When she looks up, the pain and hurt in the weight of her gaze hits him like a slap to the face. “I don’t want to see you ever again,” she says quietly, and sprints forward, disappearing out of the crowd.

She doesn’t even have time to register the miserable agony that flashes on Toshiro’s face.

...

“I’m really sorry to bother you on your day off,” Momo expresses remorsefully, cupping her hot cup of tea with tight hands.

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Rukia immediately replies, waving her apology off. “My brother said I needed to rest, anyway.” She pulls a chair up to the table, leaning her chin on her knuckles. “What’s going on, Momo?”

Momo stares down at her tea, tears welling up in her eyes. She is tired of all the avoiding, pretending, and hiding. She chews at her lip, making a decision within herself, before looking up and meeting Rukia’s eyes with a watery gaze. “I—I think I’m in love with Hitsugaya-kun.”

Rukia listens patiently as she details the sequence of events from beginning to end, starting with college orientation and the feeling of drifting and the revelation of jealousy, to Rangiku’s advice and the speed dating and the biggest fight they have perhaps ever had.

“And now, I find out that Hitsugaya-kun thinks I’m lonely and undesirable and shameless,” she whimpers, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I am lonely and shameless—but undesirable? Hitsugaya-kun thinks I’m undesirable,” she says, her voice hollow. 

“Momo, no—that’s not true—”

“Yes, it is!” she asserts fiercely, slumping down onto the table. “I’ve never had a boyfriend—even in highschool, Kira-kun didn’t even want to date me after asking me out, and no one wanted to go to prom with me! And then in college, I don’t even think boys cared enough to even look at me—oh, no—he’s right! I am undesirable!”

“W-what?” And suddenly, Rukia is doubled over laughing, so hard that she almost falls off of her chair.

“And I’m—wait, Rukia—why are you laughing?!” Momo asks angrily, vaguely offended by her friend’s laughter at her vulnerability. 

Huffing and wheezing, Rukia finally manages to calm her guffawing enough to speak. “Momo,” she starts mirthfully, wiping at her eyes. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“What?” she frowns, confused. “What do I have no idea about?”

“It’s not what you think,” her friend continues, amused. “Kira didn’t back out because he didn’t like you. He thought you weren’t interested.”

Momo’s brows furrow. “And why would he think that?”

“Because on that date you went on, all you did was talk about Hitsugaya!” Rukia throws her hands up, looking dramatically weary. “Kira thought you guys were a thing then!”

“O-oh, what?” she stutters, bewildered by her friend’s straightforward statement, her cheeks flushing a rosy pink. “I—I didn’t even realize—”

“Oh, and none of the boys dared to ask you out on a date, or to prom,” Rukia carries on, still in good humour. “Because Hitsugaya was totally in love with you, and it was bro code to leave you alone. Plus, he can be kinda scary and overprotective sometimes,” she adds in afterthought. 

Momo’s only response is a wide-eyed gaze of shock.

“That obviously carried on into college, because Ichigo tells me that the entire soccer team knows of his undying love for you,” she goes on, clearly finding the entire situation hilarious. “He’s not exactly subtle about it, Momo.”

He...was in love with her? There was no way. Momo’s head is spinning, and she collapses backwards into her chair, trying to digest these new pieces of information.

“I thought—I,” she blubbers, winded. “I thought he would never think of me that way—”

“Momo,” Rukia says gently, patting her arm lightly in support and encouragement. “Go to him.”

…

Momo trudges home in a daze, still flabbergasted by the epiphany bestowed upon her by her good friend. She reaches her dorm hallway, eyes still unfocused, when she startles to a halt.

Toshiro stands in front of her door, pale and subdued, and she can see the bags sunken under his eyes. “Hinamori, I—” 

She raises a hand to stop him, her lower lip trembling. “...I’m sorry, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He looks shocked. “W-what? Why—”

“I was selfish,” she confesses, finally letting out what has been bothering her since the beginning. “I overreacted, because I was hurt. I was hurt, because I thought you would leave me and move on. I was afraid and selfish, and I lashed out and said all of those things I didn’t mean,” she sniffled.

He reaches out right away, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Don’t cry, Momo, please—”

Her eyes brim with more tears instead, and she whimpers at his touch. He has always hated her tears. He has always been so good to her—how could she not notice? Always protecting her, caring for her, being there for her—always at the edge of her life, waiting and waiting and waiting to be allowed to enter her heart. 

“Hitsugaya-kun, I—” she barely holds back a sob, launching forward into his arms, no longer able to be away from him. “—I love you.”

The arms around her stiffen abruptly. She stays stubbornly put, burying her face into his chest. 

When she gathers the courage to detach herself slowly and look up at his expression, she sees a deep and naked and tender affection, the most emotion he has ever allowed himself to show, in his turquoise eyes.

“Momo, you—” he murmurs, and there is almost (almost!) giddy disbelief in his voice. “It isn’t...ridiculous?”

She blinks, and suddenly, the memory floods back. Her mouth drops open, and she looks up at him with guilt and remorse. “Oh, Hitsugaya-kun,” she says, rubbing circles into his back in silent apology. “I’m sorry. It’s not ridiculous at all.”

“I don’t think you were being ridiculous, either,” he admits softly, touching her forehead gently with his. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffs, suddenly overcome with feelings of happiness and contentment and peace. “I love you, Shiro-chan.”

“I have always loved you, bed-wetter Momo,” he responds, voice thick with pent-up emotion and longing. 

She laughs, her breath tickling his face.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Hinamori,” he warns with a rare smile.

Momo eagerly meets him halfway, and their lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss, languid and sweet and whole, and it feels like home.

“Mm, Shiro-chan,” she moans, gripping his neck as he pushes her against the door of her dorm. She backs up and stumbles over something, causing both of them to fall over.

“Wha—” she looks over at what she tripped on, spotting a basket of peaches toppled onto the hallway floor. “What is this?”

Toshiro looks pointedly away from her, his neck and ears flushed red.

“Is this...for me?” she asks, pinching his cheeks fondly. “You’re so sweet, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya!” he swats at her and scowls in complaint, completely out of habit and embarrassment. 

She laughs freely for the first time in a while, leaning in to press her smile into his shoulder. This is the beginning of the rest of their lives, she thinks as she teases him, the couple bickering and giggling on the floor of her dorm hallway.

She can only hope that it lasts forever and ever.

.

And it does. 

In this lifetime and beyond.

.

—fin.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

so I wrote a random hitsuhina prompt (and idk if I will continue it)

the story goes like this:

They were just reminiscing about the past, how they ended up being this way, from Hinamori's naivety and solid devotion towards Aizen, Toshiro's insecurity over the fact that he wasn't strong enough to protect her, up to the day they were able to move past everything and forgive each other. They knew the past had to remain a chapter in their lives, something that served a valuable lesson.

Yeah, that was just it. Nothing more, nothing less... or so Momo tells herself as Toshiro kisses her deeply, bringing her inside his quarters and slowly undressing her kimono.

They were attending a festival, and Momo was enthralled by the fireworks and everything. Afterward, she and Toshiro decided to sit somewhere and enjoy the view because this kind of peace rarely comes by, so they must always take advantage of it. And during their walk back, they reminisced the happy memories before Aizen betrayed them, the ones Momo and Toshiro happily treasured. Looking back from there, she also remembered telling him her true feelings.

And no, there was no influence of alcohol or whatsoever. She straight up just told him the words she had been wanting to say ever since she realized everything on her own.

"I... I really like you, Shiro-chan."

That was it. The next thing, he was holding her hand all night and they both seemed to agree in silence that they wanted to be with each other for longer. So before Momo could go, Toshiro instantly swept her in his arms, sliding the door from his quarters open as they entered with him locking it.

"Momo," he whispered her name, and his adult voice has never been this warm and needy. "Momo."

He was desperate as if he had waited for her this whole time. Of course, who wouldn't? Toshiro's main goal was to protect Momo ever since and with everything that has happened, he couldn't just reveal his feelings for her in his emotional state. That would ruin everything he worked hard for.

That's why, despite his selfish desire, he was gentle, taking everything slow because he didn't want to hurt her. After all, that's what Toshiro signed up for. He would never do anything against her will and he would do anything just to make her smile.

And one by one, all their clothes fell on the floor. There was nothing hindering both of them, skin to skin and flesh to flesh colliding and melting until there was nothing but soft sighs and passion and romance. And every single time, Toshiro would kiss her lips, savoring her taste because he still believes this couldn't be real. But Momo calling out his name, "Toshiro," has never been hotter than before.

This is real, he told himself.

"T-Toshiro," she moaned, holding onto him as he thrusted deeper.

They made love to each other a few times more after that, then they succumbed to sleep. Their naked bodies covered with the sheets, Momo's head snuggled in his chest as he embraced her tight.

They wished this moment would last longer.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The day after was a freaking bitch because when Toshiro woke up, Momo wasn't there anymore, saved by the hairclip she uses for her low bun. He sighed, wondering why she would leave without telling him anything.

She said she likes me, and now off she goes like nothing.

But he couldn't forget the way she was saying his name last night.

Toshiro...

He was instantly flustered at that, feeling himself go hard before deciding a cold shower might be able to fix his worries.

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

To You in Darkness

Rating: T/Teen for themes

Setting: the day after chapter 238, when the Shinigami team are ordered to return to the Soul Society.

Synopsis: After being ordered to return to the World of the Living, Toshiro is alerted that Momo has gone missing. As he and her Division search for her, Momo reflects on everything that’s transpired. But if Toshiro finds her, what will he say?

AN: the winner of the second poll! Prepare for angst, angst, and more angst. This is not a typical fic for me, in that it’s more messy and involves Toshiro and Momo being a little upset with each other. It was a little hard to write for this reason, but I felt it was realistic given the scenario. However, I didn’t want to end this one be completely sour, so expect a smidge of fluff near the end. Also, some out of character moments too; I think given the situation, no one is going to completely act like themselves.

On a side note, I made one shocking discovery while writing this fic. I wanted to see how much time I had to work with in terms of when could I set this event between Toshiro and co. returning to the World of the Living and the Gotei 13’s arrival at the Fake Karakura Town to confront Aizen. I thought there was at least a week between these two events. Turns out, not even two days passed before the Fake Karakura Town arc began (see here)! So the pacing of this one might be a bit strange, but I chose to stick with canon rather than make up that it was a whole week before the confrontation against Aizen^^;

In terms of song recommendations to listen to as you read:

Soundscape to Ardor from BLEACH

Nothing Can Be Explained Instrumental 2008 Version from BLEACH

Compassion from BLEACH

Diamond Dust from BLEACH

Reaper by SennaRin

Is it Real? by Seatbelts

Numb by My Head is Empty

Shouting into Darkness by Imxone

Liminal Space by Imxone

October by Antent

You Are the Moonlight by Endless Melancholy

La Promesse by Passage

Tsukiyo No Yukara by Tokyo Ethmusica

If I have to recommend an order to listen to these, it would be as I listed them above.

_____________________________

It had started as a gentle rain in the morning, and gradually built across the afternoon. The drops pelt down, big and harsh, breaking some leaves from their branches and stalks, and causing a haze to fall over the Soul Society.

Somewhere, surrounded by trees and other foliage, one plant is shaded by a bigger one, arching over it except for an opening that allow a few of the smaller plant’s branches to reach out and almost come over the dirt path it borders. With the protection from overhead, the rain that pelts the leaves above only gently cascades down to the protected plant, making it merely sway and bob when drops land on it.

Another drop rolls down from the above plant’s branch, stopping and wobbling briefly at the edge. When it falls, however, it does not drop down on to one of the leaves furthest from the below plant’s stalk. It’s instead swept away into the sleeve of Momo’s shihakusho when she rushes by.

She only hears the rain and her own panting mixed with quiet, distressed noises arising from her throat. She both does and doesn’t know where she is, disorientating her. Still she runs, the slick mud making her strides wider and unstable, and her skin burns from the cold of the rain. The ribbon tied up in her hair is coming loose, as is her lieutenant’s badge from her arm.

Even as she becomes a speck in the distance, the protected plant continues sway with each gentle raindrops that tumbles down on it as the larger one loses more and more leaves.

_____________________________

“That completes my report on our mission in the World of the Living.” Toshiro bows to the Captain-Commander. “If you require further details, I will send them to you promptly.”

“That won’t be necessary, Captain Hitsugaya,” Yamamoto says. “Thank you for your report.”

With his part done, Toshiro returns to his place in the hall standing between Kyoraku and Mayuri. Behind him, Rangiku continues to stare ahead, but her posture is too stiff, uneasy in a way that it's obvious she's pretending. He can almost feel himself do the same, but is certain his stance is more convincing. It’d been less than twenty-four hours since they left the World of the Living, and what had happened hadn’t sat right with either of them.

As Mayuri is called forward, Toshiro briefly recalls the moment they stepped back into the Soul Society. Rukia and Renji had gone ahead of them, shoulder’s slumping and expression pensive, led by Byakuya and Kenpachi.

Neither he or his lieutenant said anything. They simply looked at each other, and likely reflected the same expression. A sombreness, mixed with confusion and resignation. They’d been given their orders, they had to do their duties as Shinigami, but neither truly thought Orihime was capable or even willing to betrayal her friends. Rangiku was adamant about it, muttering her disbelief much later when they’d reached Tenth Division’s barracks.

Now she looks ahead, seemingly focused on Mayuri as he explains the plan to undermine Aizen’s attempt to take Karakura Town, but likely still ruminating on what had happened. He doesn’t have to look down the row of lieutenants on his side to know Renji is the same, perhaps looking more sullen.

Without meaning to, Toshiro briefly focuses on Genji, standing in the line behind the captains on the opposite side of the hall. He’d been invited only to hear the report and the plan created by the Captain General and Mayuri. Despite the stoicism he displays, there’s faint, dark rings beneath his eyes. His throat tightens , and swallowing against it, Toshiro doesn't ponder on the cause of his sudden reaction, knowing it would send his mind away from this hall.

He returns his attention to Captain-Commander and Twelfth Division captain. The plan to use Tenkai Kecchu to replace Karakura Town with a copy was already underway. He’d been vaguely aware of such a plan before he’d been sent to the World of the Living, but it’d now come into full fruition.

He wants to believe this would upset Aizen’s plans, but the skeptic in him already knows Aizen has likely foreseen this and has a move to counteract their efforts. He would know, he’d battle him and lost to such tactics before.

He clenches his fist at his side. The very thought of the traitor makes his blood boil. He breathes in deeply and out quietly, trying to calm his reiatsu. This won’t do, especially when he’s on the battlefield. He needs to focus, to show his standing as a captain of the Gotei Thirteen.

Several minutes later Mayuri’s briefing comes to an end, and all the captains and lieutenants understand the plan. After being dismissed, everyone begins towards the meeting’s halls doors.

He can sense a few gazes on his back. He ignores them. There's too many distractions, he needs to focus on the battle ahead. On how to bring Aizen down as a Captain of the Gotei Thirteen.

_____________________________

As her surroundings become more unrecognizable, Momo considers turning back. She vaguely knows where she is, had been in this area many years ago. It had changed over the years, and if she’s not careful, she’ll get herself lost.

Yet her legs have a mind of their own, carrying her further and further away.

This is a good thing, she convinces herself. Get away from everything that’s familiar and known, to somewhere that doesn’t remind her of everything that happened, and of him.

_____________________________

Toshiro and Rangiku are the last to leave the hall. Ahead of them are the captains, some talking to each other or their lieutenants. Twelfth Division, Second Division, and Genji had flash stepped away by the time they reached the end of the walkway. The remaining officers continue on their way back to their division, a determination and urgency in their steps. They don’t notice as Toshiro comes to a stop outside of First Division’s main barracks. He doesn’t quiet realise he’s caught up in the rain surrounding them until several heartbeats later. They’re sheltered by the walkway’s roof, with rain collecting along the edges and falling on the banister.

He’d always felt a calm when the rain came, even as a child before discovering his potential. He suspects he has something to do with his zanpakuto abilities, with the very elements he’s able to wield.

He finds no peace today, unable to quell the tension hardened in his limbs, and the slight clenching in his heart. It wasn’t just what happened before they were forced to leave Karakura Town. It’s not just the impending war against the Arrancars and Aizen.

He inwardly shakes his head, trying the snap out of it. He begins to think of what he’ll tell his officers when they return to the barracks, but even as he does this, he’s searching for her reiatsu. It’s like an unconscious reflex, done without knowing and only realising it’s happening mid movement.

His frown deepens. Her reiatsu should be faint due to the distance, but he can’t detect it at all.

“Captain?”

Toshiro blinks. They’re the only ones left, their fellow captains and lieutenants gone from sight. He looks to Rangiku. “Sorry, just thinking of our next steps.” He continues walking down the walkway. “Let’s head back.”

Rangiku raises a brow at the uncharacteristic apology, but matches his quick pace back to the Tenth Division. “You mentioned before the emergency meeting we'd need to produce a written copy of the report. I suppose we won’t be needing that now.”

He shakes his head. “It’d be useless to the Captain-Commander. We need to make plans for our battle in the fake Karakura Town.”

Rangiku gives a firm nod. “It’ll be just captains and lieutenants. We’ll need to leave Minagawa in charge while we’re gone.”

“We’ll brief the division on what’s happening first. Afterwards, you can take Minagawa and Hanae aside.”

“Hanae-kun, sir?”

“Minagawa will need help.”

Rangiku considers it. By the time she speaks again, they’re halfway back to the Tenth Division. “It’ll depend on how much work Minagawa has done while we were away. I’m sure he can --“

“Captain Hitsugaya! Lieutenant Matsumoto!”

Toshiro and Rangiku stop. Both of their eyes had widened at the distressed call, and the hurried footsteps coming up behind them. They turn, and find Genji sprinting towards them.

“Isawa,” Toshiro murmurs. Then, louder. “What’s wrong?”

The Fifth’s Division Third Seat comes to a jarring stop in front of them, panting. “C-Captain Hitsugaya! L-Lieutenant…” He bows his head, unable to can’t continue, so out of breath.

Rangiku rests a hand on his hunched shoulder. “Take your time,” she says, measured. “Just breathe.”

The paleness of the Third Seat’s face alarms Toshiro enough for his eyes to widen further. There can only be one reason Genji looks like this.

“What’s happened to Hinamori?” Toshiro asks.

Rangiku gives a surprised grunt as Genji abruptly rises. “She’s gone, Captain! She’s not in the Fifth Division barracks!”

For a moment, all sound ceases. Gone is the pattering of rain, and Genji’s panting, and Rangiku’s alarmed questioning to Genji. The world around him briefly shifts, as though the axis had been tipped to one side and everything should be tilting and falling over. Was it happening again? Why is she gone?

Eventually, as sound returns, Toshiro can make out pieces of what Genji says in response to Rangiku’s questions.

“Higuchi-san went to check on her…found her nowhere…we’re looking…I was on my way to tell the Captain-Commander!”

“Does anyone else know?” Rangiku asks.

Genji shakes his head. “It’s why I have to get to the First Division, but then I saw you and Captain Hitsugaya, and…” He turns back to Toshiro, still frozen by the news. “I know you and Lieutenant Hinamori have a history together. We only know so many places she would go to, but you might know more.”

_____________________________

Momo can’t go any further.

She falls to her knees, and winces at the pain that radiates up her legs. She manages to crawl under the shelter, and when she looks back, decides this is far enough.

There’s water running next to her. A brook turned into a stream from the rain. She watches it, half wishing she could drift as it does. Far, far away. For a moment she imagines she is part of the stream, letting it take her thoughts, flushing them out and sweeping them down to a bigger body of water, where they can be lost and vanish forever.

_____________________________

The Hellbutterfly on Toshiro's shoulder barely moves as he searches Momo’s room. With the exception of her bed sheets being thrown to the side and her window being open, everything is in order. It’s as Genji said: there’s no sign of a kidnapping or of anyone except Higuchi and Genji having come into her room. And just as he’d noted, her hair cloth, ribbon, and lieutenant’s badge are missing too. He can’t feel relieved, it meant she’d done this of her own accord. What possessed her to run away?

He can't ignore what had confused him and everyone else anymore -- like, as some of the humans had put it, 'addressing the an elephant in the room'.

Tobiume remains next to the dresser, leaning against the wall. Momo is without her weapon, and he couldn't hide the fear that invoked. Her kido skills are without par for someone of her rank, but they wouldn't be enough against a larger threat she might encounter.

He'd never admit it to anyone, but he'd imagined scenarios where if she'd had Tobiume with her when she'd gone with Gin to see Aizen again. Would she have been safer? Would she have struck him? No, he knows. The shock of that moment was enough to render her vulnerable, and then paralyzed. And Aizen would never have allowed her weapon to be on her in the first place.

“I want to close that window.”

Rangiku comes up from behind him, frowning at the fluttering, damp curtains. Several stray raindrops hit her bed and the side of a tipped over vase.

“We can’t,” Toshiro says, “the Captain-Commander may want to see it for himself.”

“I know…but this isn’t a crime scene. She ran away. There’s nothing here to show where to, so we wouldn't be tampering with evidence.”

She hides her frustration well, Toshiro mutely notes. Her mind is not just here on what's happened; if anything, it would only make her think more on what happened in Karakura Town. At least Momo is getting an investigation and not just being condemned without evidence.

Although his lieutenant is right, but he has to follow to protocol. The last time he didn’t…

He shakes his head and listens to the voices echoing from outside. Fifth Division groups searching the whole division and calling out orders or saying they’d seen no sign of their lieutenant.

First Division had sent out a warning to the other captains and lieutenants, but only asked for Tenth, Eighth, and Thirteenth to search for her in the Soul Society – Eighth investigated the south and west districts, Thirteenth the north and east districts, and Tenth the Junrinan and the Soul Society. Ninth and half of Fifth were on standby to search for her in the World of the Living if no traces of her could be found in the Soul Society. Everyone else was told to prepare for the war against the Arrancar. After Genji had run to First Division, and he and Rangiku made their way to Fifth, Toshiro half expected the Captain-Commander to order his division to stay out of this, but given his history with Momo, perhaps Genji had made a convincing case. If he'd been given such an order, would he have obeyed?

Protocol, he reminds himself.

He takes another moment to look around her room, appraising it differently. He hasn’t been here in years, but it’d barely changed. She has more books on the small bookcase in the corner, and she’d moved her dresser to the opposite side of the room. On top of it is her hairbrush, and absent from their usual place next to it are her ribbon and haircloth.

Finally, his gaze lands back on Tobiume. He can feel the heat radiating from the blade, pulsing in worry and anger. He goes towards the zanpakuto, approaching it as though it were a frightened animal with it's hackles raised.

Rangiku follows behind. “Is that wise, sir?”

“Likely not,” he says, not looking away from the zanpakuto.

He kneels down in front of the sword. This fury, burning so bright he can almost feel the tips of his fingers get singed, did Momo feel it right now as well?

Over his shoulder, Hyrouinamu’s hilt gleams in the dull light. His cold permeates Toshiro’s back, and a small curl of it slides down to floor and swirls out near Tobiume, both protect of his wielder but also acting like a hand reaching out.

“We’re searching for her," Toshiro says. “I don’t know where she’s gone to. You may know, but you can’t tell me.”

There’s a flicker, a pause in the fury.

“We’re not going to stop until she’s found. We’re going to return her to you, to her room.”

To his surprise, Tobiume flares. He leans back in the wake of the waves of arid heat that hits him. He can sense Hyourinmaru get defensive, but he doesn’t otherwise react.

Rangiku joins him on the floor, her brows furrowing in confusion. "We mean her no harm, if that's what you're worried about. I know you two have a close bond, and that she confides in you. You have to know we'd never...." The rest fades from her lips.

She blinks as something dawns on her. “Unless, she doesn’t want to be here.” At Toshiro’s widened eyes, she clarifies. “It’s why she ran away, she doesn’t want to be here...maybe even because of something we did.”

And by 'we' she meant the Gotei Thirteen. Given Tobiume’s reaction, he can almost see it making sense. Toshiro hates that he hadn’t come to that conclusion himself. Yet, it doesn’t feel like a complete answer.

“We’ll find her," he says to Tobiume. "We’ll…ask her what she wants to do. No further harm will come to her." the words feels like a vow seared into his being; he made a similar promise to himself decades ago, and now he had to make it again after he'd allowed it to be broken. "If what Matsumoto has said is true, or even if it's not...I’m sorry.”

Hyourinmaru’s cold drifts thinner, falling back to the blade on Toshiro’s back as the heat dies down, becoming a smaller pulse; but there’s a sullenness to it. He can’t blame her, given what he’d failed to do a month ago. His apology had been for more than just what had happened to Momo afterwards. it had been for everything before, but it was a weak act of contrition. He needs to do more.

He ignores Rangiku's sympathetic gaze as he stands and leaves the room.

______________________________

What am I doing here?

Her eyes flutter open, and her head slowly bows. She doesn’t know the answer, until she remembers how she’d been before. That feverish need to run and be away for a while.

It had been a silly thing, really. Because now all she can do is sit and think about everything that has happened, and there's no way for it to slip into the running water.

______________________________

Toshiro darts behind a house across from his Granny's. When he looks around the corner, he doesn’t see or sense the older woman in the house; she must be running an errand. He doesn’t sense any trace of Momo’s reiatsu either, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t visited or wasn’t already in the house, concealing herself from all senses.

He could quickly investigate, but what if Granny came back? What if he couldn’t leave things as they were in the house and make her think someone had broken in?

His brows furrow deeper at the thought of causing her distress. Taking one last look at his childhood home, he pivots and runs back towards the main street of the district.

Several of his subordinates are in the area, searching for Momo in and between buildings, mostly ignoring the residents unless it’s necessary to interact with them. The officers are still in uniform, and the unease their presence brings is evident in some Souls looking on in fear or suspicion from within buildings or beneath their parasols.

Toshiro finds Rangiku further up the street, speaking with a resident in front of a shop.

“…ad she has black hair,” he hears her say as he approaches, “probably tied back in a bun.”

The resident, a bearded middle-aged man, contemplates for a moment, before shaking his head. “Can’t say I have. Sorry, Lieutenant.”

Rangiku nods. “It’s no trouble. Thank you.”

As the Soul returns back inside his shop, Rangiku turns to Toshiro when he nears.

They move away, walking speedily away down the main street.

“How much did you tell him?” he asks.

Keeping her voice quiet as she replies, “I kept it vague, and I didn’t say her name.”

He’d given the same instructions to his subordinates if they felt they had to question residents. For those that had been friends with Momo, however it was a different story.

“Did you question Tatsukichi and Ayumi?” he then asks.

 “Yes, they haven’t seen her either. I said I was meeting up with her in the Rukongai for lunch.”

“Good.”

“Did you ask Jidanbo?”

“He hasn’t seen her either.”

"And your Obaa-san?"

He doesn't mean for their to be a pause. "I'll only approach her if we exhaust all other options."

Rangiku ponders on his words for a moment. "It might be best for time being." She let’s out a breath that makes her shoulders fall. “Where could she have gone? There’s not many places she can hide here. She can’t go to the World of Living either, not without some sort of trace of it.”

“There’s ways, and she's likely hidden her presence with kido as is.”

They come to a stop at the border of the first and second districts. In the distance between the crowds of Second District, he spots one of his officers, her back facing him, racing down the street. Passersby are briefly distracted by her, with a few turning to each other and whispering, eyes still glued to her. While not entirely her fault, she’s meant to keep a low profile.

“Hanae hasn’t heard back from any of our officers searching the other districts,” Rangiku says, sensing Toshiro's question before he speaks it. “No one’s reported back to me, either.”

Toshiro is about to suggest a different search strategy, but he’s stops at the expression on his lieutenant’s face. Her brows are furrowed, and beneath them, there’s a weight behind her half-lidded eyes. Much like what he’d sense in the meeting hall, she’s solemn, but there’s more to it. She’s thinking, searching her mind for something.

“What’re you thinking?” he asks.

A strange sadness flickers across her face for a second. He gets a strange feeling it’s directed at him rather than at the situation Momo is currently in. He resists the urge to ask her to ‘Spit it out’, not wanting to let his growing frustration get the better of him.

“You said before she's likely concealing her presence, but what if she isn't?” Rangiku eventually answers. “I’m just trying to think what she might’ve had on her mind.”

He only gives a curt nod.

“Given that, she could be experiencing a range of emotions right now. Ones she feels she can’t deal with here, or didn’t want others to know about.” Rangiku’s lips briefly fall into a tight line. She casts her gaze to the tops of the trees that line the eastern side of the First and Second Districts, then she finishes. “Maybe she’s not in a populated area hiding her reiatsu from us. Maybe wanted to be as far away as possible.”

A sting lances across Toshiro's chest. He’s taken back to that day, jumping and flash-stepping back to Central Forty-Six, and the thought crosses his mind, Of all people, I should have realized that, yet I…

How many times had he seen her cover up her sadness with a smile, only telling him later about what happened when he didn’t badger her to tell him at the time? Or when she'd wondered off after a childish argument and returned later, somber but wanting to apologize or talk to him?

Toshiro withholds a cringe. This isn’t the time to feel sorry for himself. He considers Rangiku’s words, trying to think of where he hasn’t looked yet. Places that didn’t have Souls nearby, that were isolated and quiet.

He can’t imagine any locations she would’ve gone to recently, not since their childhood. Still…

“I may know a few places,” he murmurs.

Rangiku's usual determination in moments of crisis such as this arises, casting the solemnness away. “Then go to them.”

“I’ll take Narita and – ”

“I meant you should go to them.”

He freezes. “What are you suggesting?”

She gives an exasperated sigh. “You should go to them, alone, sir.”

“Why would I do that? We’d need to search the whole area.”

“And we will, but you need to get there first. If Hinamori is going to respond to anyone right now, it’ll be you.”

He recalls Genji’s last words to Toshiro before they left to search the Rukongai. “If you find her, tell her we're here for her, to support her as she always has for us. She trusts you, Captain Hitsugaya, and I know you’ve always tried to do right by her.”

For what little good it’s done, he thinks bitterly. “Protocol states –”

“And we can still follow that.” Rangiku smiles, and he realises in the back of his mind it’s the first time she’s done so since they returned from the World of Living. “It’s just you’ll be getting a head start on us.”

His eyes widen at her implication. He almost wavers, but the sicken sense of déjà vu stops him. “What makes you so sure?”

Rangiku's gaze softens, sensing the weight behind the question. She considers her answer, deciding on the best words to say. She knows of he and Momo's childhood together, her teasing habit of bringing up one of the many tales she’d heard from Momo made him aware of that fact. It’s also likely she knows just how deeply he cares for Momo. She has always been good at reading people, and the connections they have with others.

Eventually, she speaks quietly. “Because of what happened in the World of the Living.”

When he'd spoken through the monitor to Momo. Even if he hadn’t done anything intentionally, he still feels he failed her at that time too. He'd later recounted, albeit vaguely, what happened to Rangiku. But if she had been there in the room that day, would she still have told him he alone could bring Momo back? What did she expect to happen if he does find her?

Looking back to Rangiku, it’s obvious she won’t let this go unless he strictly ordered her to forget the idea and continue their current operation. Even so, a part of him had wanted to find her by himself from the start. Whether it’s for atonement or simply because he just wants to find her, he isn’t sure.

It doesn’t matter. No, what truly matters is what he does now. It’s easier for Momo to evade a group of Shinigami, but if he went alone, maybe he can coax her to come back. Surely she wouldn’t hide from him.

She’d ran away, didn’t she? Not to you.

He withholds a wince. He shouldn't -- didn’t -- expect her to come to him whenever she was troubled, especially after what had happened in the last few months. Even so, the fact she didn’t go to anyone, let alone tell anyone, both stung and worried him more.

"This is a risk," he cautions.

Her smile returns. "Isn't everything we do? I have feeling this one will pay off, though."

You can do this, he hears in her tone. Can he? No, it's not matter of if can he or not. He must.

“I’ll leave a trail for you to follow.” He shrugs his shoulder, where the Hellbutterfly is still perched. “Otherwise, I’ll send you message saying where I am.”

Rangiku nods. “I’ll wait until all the teams report back to me before we follow you. I’ll say you’re following a hunch.”

“I’ll leave it to you, then. If you find her or find any evidence, use tenteikura to contact everyone.” He tries to think of another parting order to give her, or some authoritative words. Instead, he bows his head. “Thank you.”

Before she can reply, he spins on his heel and runs down a nearby alleyway, heading towards the forests lining the east side of the Junrinan. There’s not as many residents out in these streets, and the ones that are mostly ignore him.

_________________________

For all of the misgivings Momo is starting to have about coming out here, she can admit the quiet is a nice change. She recalls hearing her subordinates out in the courtyard over the last few days while she lay or sat in bed. She'd hear their chattering and laughter, sometimes their cries as they practice zanjutsu, and a few times their chanting when they practiced kido. For the latter, she'd find herself shaking her head like a school teacher when she heard them get it wrong and the consequences blow up in their faces. If she were down there, she'd show them the correct technique and recite the correct chant, and give them tips she's learnt from experience.

She'd smile at the thought of being with her subordinates, sharing in comradery that characterized her division, even if it was at a distance. Her lips would fall, however, at the heaviness swirling in her mind; never far, always there. It made certain things an effort, like trying to find enjoyment in her books or think of what the future held.

It amplified at the pitying looks she got from some of her visiting subordinates. It was in the way they set a tray of food down for her, never once looking away from her with eyes that didn't match their too broad smiles. It was in their hushed discussions when they wondered about the wellbeing of their lieutenant as they stood just beneath her window, thinking she couldn't hear them. Sometimes it was there when they dropped off fresh clothes for her, making sure to lay them within reach and say how well she was looking that day.

Some were honest with her, wishing her well but also confiding in her that morale was low and that they hoped she would get better soon. Normally, it's followed by an apology and bowing, but she would dismiss it with a smile and wave.

Maybe she should've been more honest with them.

If she had, maybe Genji and all of her seated officers wouldn't try to dodge questions about the progress of reports and training. Maybe they'd ask more questions about how to do certain things, like setting up schedules and outposts in the World of the Living. She could help them, and they could tell her to her face what the battle plan for the Arrancars was.

I have to get better. It's a mantra she kept telling herself.

I have to get better. Her division was on unstable ground, without leadership. I have to get better. She didn't want to be stuck in her room anymore.

_________________________

Three Souls run through the forest back to Junrinan, carrying baskets filled to the brim with fruits or vegetables on their backs.

Toshiro circles around, avoiding them as he flash-steps towards the watermelon patch. It’s five minutes from the Junrinan and had served as his primary source of the fruit when he was a child. When he doesn’t see or sense any sign of Momo, he moves further into the forest. The patch is the only distinct place he can think of, the other locations were more vaguely defined. He recalls a ridge they’d gone to a few times, sitting there to watch the sunset after gathering various fruits and vegetables to take back. There was also a river they’d gone to on summer days, cooling off with a swim or getting in knees deep to try and catch fish.

A sting punctuates the usual nostalgia he gets from such memories, one that makes him cringe up at the trees bowing over him.

Is this just a fool’s errand? Is she really here or back in the Soul Society somewhere?

He ends up rushing out of the vegetation and on to a dirt path. He stops, taking in several breaths as he extends his senses out, casting them out like a net. His eyes hood as he concentrates, checking every inch of the surrounding forest. There’s tiny flickers of reiatsu scattered around, likely from Souls who’d been here in the last few hours before the rain got heavier. Most traces are faint, barely reaching his senses due to the time that had passed or the distance they are at.

Still he checks, even as the rain gets thicker and a gust begins to blow through. Leaves fall around him, and the Hellbutterfly flutters it's wings on his shoulder. Vaguely, he thinks to shelter the creature, cupping his hand above it’s wings. He doesn’t know why he does it, the creatures are impervious to harm and the elements. Maybe it’s because it’s something Momo would do...

Come on, he wills. Please be here.

His senses come to the path he’s on, reaching from one horizon to the other. He jolts at the faintest flicker, just beyond his range. It's too far the judge the qualities of it, but it's stronger than the others.

He slowly strides further along the path, his footsteps squelching in the mud.

Then, it hits him. The reiatsu is warm, like the first flames in the fire pit of a house.

At the same time the trace of reiatsu becomes clearer, he thinks to look down. Many tracks have been made in this path, but what if…?

He bolts down the path towards the trace. It’s grown fainter by the time he reaches it a few minutes later. A brush of Momo’s reiatsu clings to a bush along the left side of the path. And sure enough, he spies a small indent three feet away. It’s not like softened cart wheel tracks, and it’s too big to be the track of any animals that lives in this forest. It’s outline had become wobbly and misshapen due to the mud sliding in, but it must he her step. There's another like it ahead, and other, and another, all the same approximate distance a runnign stride would be for a Soul.

He doesn’t have to cast his sense out far to detect another trace of reitasu further down the path. He lets a staggered breath as a vice is released from around his heart.  She’s here.

He stifles his relief. It’s not over yet. He has to see her first. I’m coming for, Hinamori. Wait for me.

He jogs down the path following the faint trails and patches of her reiatsu. They cling to all sort of things – tree trunks, rocks and stones, flowers, a rickety bridge over a furiously flowing river, and even to the branch of a plant that almost reached the middle of the path.

_____________________________

Momo can't tell how long she's been here. Despite the sun being obscured by thick clouds, it seems to have gotten darker. She didn't think she'd closed her eyes, but she must've dozed off at some point.

When she tries to move, she can't. She's too cold and her joints are stiff. Maybe she'll end up frozen here, watching many sunrises and sunsets. She'd witness the trees swaying too and fro, maybe even fall over from the strength of the wind or be burnt down by a lightning strike. She'd witness the rising building of Seireitei, maybe even the Rukongai. Maybe she'd also witness their fall, crumbling away gradually as time went on, as new era came and went, and everything came to an end.

But there is no end of death. It takes on different forms across the worlds. As long as there's life, there is death. It had been one of the first things she'd learned coming to the Soul Society, and some distant part of her is certain it's one of the last things she learned when she was a human.

Would it be so bad to simply sit here and watch the world go by? It was better to be here than in her room, were everything outside of it changed and everything inside remained.

Either way, she wouldn't last. She wants to be alone, but she's also lonely.

_____________________________

Toshiro can’t tell how much time has passed, nor if the growing darkness is due to the sun moving closer to the horizon behind the clouds or to the growing density of trees creating a canopy over him.

The path had ended five minutes ago at a clearing, but Momo had continued on, her steps still in the mud and veered off into the foliage. Judging from the depth of them and the clearer shape of waraji, these tracks are fresher.

So he wends through the forest, following the steps in the mud and the traces of reiatsu clinging to the flora.

He's certain this is furthest he’s ever gone from the Soul Society. He recalls Granny telling him decades ago to venture no more then ten minutes into the trees, saying all kinds of mysterious or dangerous creatures and spirits roam deeper within. Even as he’d gotten older and stopped believing in her tales, he never thought to run more than ten minutes away from the Junrinan.

He hadn’t encountered any animals out of the norm. He’d heard the occasional bird call out, and thought he may have seen a fox dashing off through the shrubs to take shelter in a hollowed out log. 

He looks down at the invisible brush of her reiatsu. It clings to a trodden-on flower, it’s blue petals crushed in her footprint. He frowns when he senses the next trace is further than the last several. Maybe she’d realised she was giving off traces and tried to confine her reiatsu to her being.

It’s a minute later when the land begins to tilt upward. She’d run up an incline, probably the beginnings of a mountain. His lungs are beginning to burn, and his mouth is drying up. Still, the rain pelting down between the gaps in the canopy doesn’t bother him, nor the cold on his skin and his drenched uniform.

Remarkably, the Hellbutterfly is still clinging on to his shoulder, gently fluttering it’s wings and antennae as if he were taking a calm stroll rather than battling his way through rain and mud up an incline.

Around him the foliage becomes denser; he has to push branches and bushes aside to continue following her tracks, and jump over rocks and fallen logs in his way.

It's a long while later when Toshiro sees a some kind of structure in the far distance. When he closer, he realises it's a torii gate. Its vibrant red had long faded, and what little pale and chipped colour that manages to peak through is surrounded by vines and moss that cling and twist around the poles. The stones steps that once went through it and further up to a shrine are buried beneath shrubs and weeds.

He continues past it, heading left and further up the incline. How she’d made it out this far confuses him. The terrain is more unpredictable, with no natural or artificial paths leading in between the thickening vegetation, and the mud making each stride harder than the next.

Still, he follows her footsteps. They’re clearer, the freshest one’s he’s seen yet. His heart buzzes at the thought that he’s close now. He reaches his senses out, but can still barely feel her reiatsu.

Along the way he encounters other overgrown structures, such as a small, chipped statue of Mimigai amongst a crumbling shrine, a moss-covered wooden street sign that’s writing had long faded, the edge of an abandoned wagon buried deep in the ground, and the outlines of stone and wood where houses used to be. He can only guess this was once a village, but had been abandoned centuries ago. He’d heard from Granny that such places existed, but it could never be confirmed by most Souls and everyone had different accounts about why these buildings were left behind.

It’s a few minutes later when he loses sight of her footsteps, the shrubbery too thick for him to see the ground anymore. He scans the area of any physical signs, but none come.

______________________________

She senses his reiatsu approaching. She at once feels relief and dread.

______________________________

Toshiro again puts out his senses, and can only detect a shred of her reiatsu on a tree trunk to his right, a yard away through a clearing. He goes to it, ending up in a field of tall grass, but sees nothing there to show where she went.

Something in him drops like a stone, and he ends up leaning his side against the trunk. He hadn’t realized he’d been panting until now, his mouth dry and his throat parched.

He has the sudden urge to punch the tree and curse, but he shakes his head. He can't let his irritation get the better of him, especially now that he has no clue where he is.

He has to keep going, but in which direction? Would he even know how to get out of here?

It doesn’t matter until he finds her. If they have each other, they can make it out of this.

With his senses still reaching out, he closes his eyes and bows his head, concentrating on every speck of reiatsu and spirit energy around him. A bird caws in the distance, and a fresh gust of wind is picking up through the trees, rustling the leaves and tall grass around him, and blowing the rain to hit his back. Faintly, so far away one could mistake it for being a part of the wind, there’s running water burbling somewhere.

Please…

As if she heard his plea, there’s a flicker of reiatsu a minute later. His eyes snap open. He clings to that trace like a tether. After several heartbeats, it becomes stronger, allowing him to gauge exactly where it’s coming from. He turns to his left and rushes through the grass and back into the trees. He almost trips over a log in his way, the grass gets a few inches taller, and the vegetation around him becomes more packed in than before, but it doesn’t deter him.

The closer he gets, the more the reiatsu fades. Had she flared it to make her presence known? Did she want to be found? Did she regret her actions?

He shakes his head against the many questions racing through his mind. There will be time to speak with her before they head back.

He runs past another outline of where a house used to be, now mostly buried beneath bushes and grass. Then, after he careens to avoid hitting the rock face of the beginnings of a mountain, he stumbles to a stop at the dilapidated structures on either side of a path faintly cutting through the tall grass. They are spaced out on either side, some in worse condition than others. They almost resemble the same architecture as the Junrinan’s buildings, but are clearly from another time. They all appear to be houses, small and quaint, in varying stages of decay and ruin. He doesn’t ponder on why they are in better condition compared to the others he’d seen and continues running in the direction of Momo's reiatsu.

Along the way, he notices buildings far away from the path too, so distant they’re almost lost amongst the surrounding nature.

Her reiatsu disappears, but he knows where he’s going. She’s ahead, just a little further. The running water gets louder, coming over the wind and leaves. The tall grass gradually thins out, and it’s two minutes later when he sees her sandals’ prints in the mud again. They guide him when comes to a fork in the faint path, taking the left that leads to an area where there less trees.

The, he’s out of the forest, with a few old houses clustered together on the decline of a hill next to a thrashing stream. The view is of the tops of trees for as far as the eye can see, but in the distance, almost a tiny speck through the faint mist and thick sheets of rain, the Seireitei stands tall. He's certain the stream is normally a gently rolling creek when the weather is calmer.

Without the shelter of the canopy, the rain pelts down on him in full force, but he comes to a stop before the house Momo is in. It’s raised almost half a meter off the ground, with four broken steps leading to a tiny veranda. The front is caved in and half of the roof had collapsed in, their remains scattered on the rotting floorboards. The wall to a main area is still intact, as is the half opened sliding door, but they’re thick with moss and the paneling has holes in various places. Beyond the main area, the back door is also open. Though faint, a stench roils off the house, one that is moldy but also earthy.

Her reiatsu drifts out from it, stable and familiar, but there’s no visible sign of her.

He doubles over, his hands landing on his bent knees as he catches his breath. He hadn’t noticed how much his legs hurt, nor how his lungs burned. He almost startles at the black in his peripheral, but sees it’s the Hell Butterfly, still somehow clutching to his uniform. It’s wings are still, even as a raindrop lands on them, but it’s antennae twitch. Behind it, rain runs down and drop from Hyourinmaru’s hilt. He hasn’t heard a peep from his zanpakuto, which is surprising. But then, with his attention solely on finding Momo, maybe he had unintentionally blocked the channel for Hyourinmaru to speak with him.

Returning his gaze back to the house, there’s still no sign of Momo. He does take his eyes away from the house, watching for any sudden movements. Can she hear him from in there? Even if she can’t, she must know he’s out here.

Toshiro straightens a long moment later, and although now physically recovered, he’s uncertain what he should do. What can he say to her? He’d only been focused on finding her, not on what would come next. He wants to slap himself. He hadn’t come out this far and gone against protocols again for this kind of uncertainty?

He should be a captain, starting off by lecture her about responsibilities and the consequences of her actions, then take her back to the Soul Society, even if she resisted. It’s harsh, but it would be expected of him. But maybe he could make a case, one which provoked sympathy from Yamamoto, and get her a lighter punishment for her actions. After all, the captain-commander had allowed Momo to speak with him when he was on his mission in the World of the Living. While Yamamoto isn’t without a heart, it's without question he's strict on things like this.

Toshiro can do everything as expected of him, but not drag her back. The thought of it turns his stomach. He’d alert the others of his location, and wait with her until they came. He dismisses the brief thought of her running away from him; she would have done so by now.

With all of this in mind, he takes weighty steps towards the house. She must be able to hear his sandals walk through the mud, climbing up to the veranda, and when coming to stand on the whining, creaking floorboards. He looks around the main area, taking in the decay and pungent smell, before moving on to the next room through the half opened door.

His chest tightens the closer he gets to the back, and he has to consciously breathe in and out. For all of his planning, it hasn’t eased his nerves. His steps get heavier and heavier with each one taken, haltingly carrying him to the veranda.

Her waraji and socks are the first thing he sees in the doorway. When he stops and leans out the door, looking to the left, the rest of her is sitting up against a wall, legs bent at the knees, her arms resting over each other in the crook of her abdomen and lap, and barely sheltered by the remains of the awning. Her hair is barely tied by in it’s bun, and her bangs to stick to her forehead and the sides of her face. She doesn’t look at him, but the frown in her brow and corner of her mouth dropping show she’s aware he’s of his presence.

Toshiro's mouth dries up again, but this time for a very different reason. A near-choking tenseness to run through his limbs and hit his chest. If it were not for that, he's almost certain he'd have fallen to his knees -- out of exhaustion, relief, or from seeing her in such a dire state he can't tell. Going against it all, he manages to rasp out, “Hinamori.”

Inwardly, he's shocked he can speak her name so neutrally. He’d thought his nerves would show or the relief that's slowly but surely tumbling through him.

He walks out on to the balcony, not once blinking. It’s then he notices the tremors running through her got worse. She must be freezing, and his reiatsu wouldn’t be helping matters. With a long exhale, he lowers it as much as he can. The thought of her freezing scares him more than he lets on. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

He was planning to then ask her if she even knows where she is, but at her lack of a response, decides against it.

He holds his hand up, and the Hellbutterfly flutters off from his shoulder to land on to his knuckles. He relays a message to it about their rough location from the Soul Society and his plan to come back to the Junrinan, and orders it to first go to the First Division, then Genji, and finally Rangiku.

He keeps his eyes on Momo as it takes off back the way he’d come. She didn’t react to anything he’d said, not even about returning with her to the Junrinan. She’d flared her reiatsu before; surely it meant she wanted to be found. What keeps her from talking to him? Or from showing any reaction at all to being found, for that matter.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

Her lips part, but she still refuses to look at him. Eventually, she shakes her head and forces her lips into a tight line.

It’s something, at least; he can work with gestures for now. Maybe it’ll make it easier for him to act as the captain he’s meant to be, and not the childhood friend he suddenly wants to be. The last time he’d done the latter, he’d ended up helping her for a few minutes at best, and not at all at worst.

He folds his arms into his sleeves. “Isawa came to us when Higuchi saw you weren’t in your room. He told the Captain-Commander, too, some hours ago. Your division is looking for you. So are other divisions, mine included.”  

He tries to stamp out the rising frustration, but her lack of a response to anything he says is getting to him. He steps to her, his feet almost touching hers. “Whatever reason you have to be out here, this was reckless of you. It’s not befitting of a an officer of the Gotei Thirteen, let alone a Lieutenant.” Come on, say something.

Still nothing from her.

“You know what this means.” He doesn’t have to say it aloud, but he does anyway. “The Captain-Commander won't take this lightly. They’ll put security around your room. You might be suspended from what little Lieutenant’s duties they’ve allowed you to perform. Isawa and your Fourth seat already take on the bulk of the work as is. You’ll be scrutinised more, they might even set up a schedule for every day until they’ve deemed your reliable again. You won’t have as many freedoms as before. You won’t be --”

“I don’t as is.”

Her voice is so quiet and rough Toshiro isn’t even sure he heard her. Without realising, he unfolds his arms. “What?”

_______________________________

Toshiro’s relief had been palpable before he even appeared in her periphery. The way his reiatsu had been uncharacteristically unstable for several seconds, and then soothed into gentler, contained waves, it’s enough to make her eyes burn.

He cares. Momo never doubted he did, but she never thought he’d…

Her chest aches for a different reason, and she can’t look at him.

It's not because of the anger or concern she might find in his eyes, or from the shame of running away. She fears seeing confusion, that he won’t understand her situation at all. That he cares, but he that he has chosen to be a captain first. It's as he should do, but its not what she wants, even knowing it's selfish of her to think such things.

A part of her wonders if she should’ve run to Izuru or Hisagi. They had been betrayed too, had to come to terms with knowing their captain weren’t who they thought they were. Despite having once risked her life to save his, Momo isn’t close enough with Hisagi to seek advice from him. And Izuru…it’s sad to think the very experience they now shared can separate them like this. She wishes their friendship was as innocent as it used to be, mainly contained within the realms of books and poetry and supporting Renji after his blunders.

When Toshiro starts lecturing her, her worst fears are confirmed. Each of his points is a jab at her heart, at the hard work she’d put in over the years to become a lieutenant. She swallows back the righteous anger, but her reiatsu pops out of her control, giving it a similar simmering quality to the one appearing in his own.

When he mentions the potential of reduced freedoms, she can’t stay quiet anymore. And after his stunned response, she finally looks at him.

For a moment, her anger recedes. His eyes are wide, half imploring, half shocked. Like her, he’s soaked, his white spikes of hair drooping, and his haori almost transparent. Drops of water fall from the edges of his uniform and tips of his fingers. There’s a vulnerability to it, a sense of listlessness and uncertainty.

Her hands fist up in her lap. “I couldn’t be in there anymore. I’m confined to my room, for my own good, apparently.” Her uncharacteristic bitterness surprises even her. It’s obvious from the barest twitch of his eyes that he didn’t expect this from her. Did he think she’d burst into tears? Or seek pity from him? He knows she can have a temper, why is he surprised?

She presses on. “I haven’t been well, and I’m in bed most days, but when I do want to move around, I’m told I can’t go beyond the main courtyard. I can’t work on papers, I can’t oversee schedules. I can’t – haven’t been able to perform my duties."

"Your officers mightn't want to strain you," Toshiro offers, but there's uncertain edge in his tone. "I thought you were allowed some duties."

"None! All I can do is eat what’s given to me, lie in bed, and read. But I’ve read every book in my room, and I don’t enjoy it like I used to. I can't draw anymore, and all of my sketchbooks have Captain Aizen in them. No one tells me what's happening anymore. And then all I can do is think and remember everything I've done, and everything Captain Aizen did!”

Toshiro almost looks lost, adrift somewhere he doesn’t know, as if she were someone he hadn’t seen in a long time and didn’t completely recognize. It shouldn’t upset her. After everything that’s happened, they’re not the Souls they used to be.

No, even before all this, they hadn’t really seen each other. They’d be lucky if they shared a lunch break together once every six months, or even speak for more than five minutes if they bumped into each other in a corridor. It never used to bother her, because she thought their bond was different. That no matter where they went or what they did, they'd somehow remain close, perhaps even be the same Souls as they had been when they first met -- as unreasonable as that was.

Her anger cools. Where had all that time gone?

“Everyone’s working hard, more than they ever have, because I’m not better,” she laments. “It's hard on them. I don't want it to be that way. I don't want to be a burden, especially after what I did. Because of Captain Aizen’s…”

A sudden, violent sensation grips her, almost paralyzing her. It’s the same one, albeit not as strong, that had come to her this morning when she’d decided to run away.

She knows where that time went to. She only has a few memories of being away from Aizen ever since she became a Shinigami. She’d orbit around him as though he were the sun, and there was a time where he was just as warm and bright. She saw the man who inspired her, who she thought was the ideal Shinigami. A man who extended compassion to hopeless, who could rally a group of despairing officers to charge against a seemingly impossible threat, and who led the Division like no other captain, with kindness and understanding. She wanted to work by his side always, had never thought of a day where that wouldn’t be the case. He brought the best out in her, from her hard work ethic to her qualities as a leader. Admiration was a powerful emotion, one that blinded her to his true nature and kept her away from her other friends. She had come to terms with that now, though not fully it seems.

“I know Captain Aizen’s a traitor to the Soul Society,” she continues. “I-I know he is…it’s why I couldn’t be there anymore. I keep remember what he used to be like, when he was lying to all of us. But without him, we’re lost, and I don’t know what…” She tries and fails to swallow back a sob. “I was such a fool, Shiro-chan. I didn’t see any of it. What can I do? I have to get better, because what else can I do? Nothing. I can’t do anything. I have nothing but regrets now.” She lets out a choking laugh. “What if I can’t lead this Division? What if without him I can’t lead? What…?” What if he’s the reason I thought I could in the first place?

Momo tilts her head down to her left arm, where her lieutenant’s badge sags against her upper arm. She raises her hand, withholding a groan from how stiff her joints have become, and undoes the strap. The weight of it falls away, but there's no relief to it, only another ache in her chest.

With her arm trembling, she holds it out to Toshiro. “Given what’s happened, I shouldn’t have this right now.”

_______________________________

Toshiro barely conceals his flinch, turning it into a small shifting of weight from one foot to the other. He couldn’t, however, hide an audible gasp. Seeing Momo hold the badge up for him to take away feels wrong and otherworldly. He has to look away, twisting to face the wall.

Perhaps he should take it, to show the consequences of her actions. He’d have to hand it over the Captain-Commander, and from there, he’s not sure what would happen to it or to Momo’s standing. At best, she would get it back but have restrictions on what she can do until she’s deemed suitable to resume her post. At worst, it’s over for her. The idea of her not being a lieutenant, of everything she’d done to obtain the rank being taken away from her, horrifies him.

He grits his teeth and his hands become fists at his side, clenched so tightly his nails threaten to pierce his palms. That bastard.

Aizen had done this to her. He’d made her like this. He’d caused her so much pain, so undeserved and unthinkable. He’d gotten so far underneath her skin, to the point he’d made her doubt her own abilities and identity. He’d been able to contain this hatred in the meeting hall, but the exhaustion has lowered his guard, and he can feel it running hot and brittle through his bones.

“I understand.”

He grunts, coming out of his reverie at her quiet words. His expression had contorted into something angry. He can’t show her this face, it’d frighten her. He takes a long, deep breath in, and quietly exhales it through his nose. It does little to calm him.

Then, as if reciting from one of their Academy textbooks, Momo continues, “An officer of the Gotei Thirteen does not run away from battle or hardships, and Lieutenant does not abandon her Division. She stands by her subordinates, takes charge in trying times and leads them. It’s one of her duties along with a Captain’s.”

She'd misunderstood his reaction. He turns to her again, but still has no words to say.

“I know this is the right thing to do,” Momo continues. “It’s what the Captain-Commander will likely ask for.”

He hates that there’s a certain confidence to her tone, as if she truly thinks this is the right decision. Rather than the rage that threatened to rise and boil over before, his heart aches terribly at her crestfallen smile. He can’t take it anymore. “Don’t be a fool!”

That stuns her, and she nearly lets the badge slip from her fingers. She quavers out sounds, trying to say something, but nothing coherent comes out, and she mutely stares at him.

He cringes at his choice of words. He’s always been out of his depth in situations like this. In a way, her adeptness to comforting others and his pragmatism balanced them out, complemented each other, but now it’s as though the reverse happened and each struggles with the quality they try to enact.

He’s as cold as the element he wields, after all. Who is he to comfort her? He should’ve been there earlier for her that day. He should’ve been faster, stronger, wiser. She wouldn’t have been dying on the floor, staring ahead into nothing. He didn’t even have any words to say to her on his many visits to Fourth Division while she was in a coma.

It wasn’t he who had thought she would be in the forest, or that she ran away because of something the Gotei Thirteen had done. He should’ve thought of those things without a second thought.

Despite his perceived shortcomings, it doesn’t stop him from wanting to show compassion, or from caring about her as deeply as he does. Because at her core, even when acting like this, she’s still the girl he knows. In all her doubts of herself and belief in the Gotei Thirteen’s ways. In her reflections on her Division and wish to get better for them rather than herself. In her willingness to let go of something so precious to her for a perceived greater good. It makes her paradoxically selfless and sorrowful to him. But then maybe those two things could go in hand, somehow.

He briefly thinks to do what he’d done last time, to take her mind off of her burdens by teasing her, but that had only last for a few minutes before she she’d asked him to save Aizen. He’ll have to go into this stumbling, cumbersome in his words and gestures, but hoping his concern and care can somehow be conveyed.

He gingerly pushes against her lieutenant’s badge. “You don’t need to hand it over. Put it back on.”

Momo frowns. “But –”

“You’re still a Lieutenant," he interjects, forcing an authoritative tone, "and I doubt the Captain-Commander will revoke your rank. You would've had to commit a far worse grievance for that to happen.”

They both remain still, as if they'd turned to stone and become statues. Several heartbeats later, Toshiro relaxes a fraction when Momo withdraws her badge. She doesn’t put it back on, instead gazing down at it, ruminating over it.

He lowers himself to sit down at her feet. He stares out at the rain, allowing a moment of quiet, to let her think over whatever is going through her mind.

“What makes you so sure?” she asks without raising her head.

He thinks back to her room, how orderly it had mostly been. How unchanged it was except for a few things. “You were feeling trapped in your room. You needed space to breathe and get away from things that reminded you of…what happened.” He recalls his visits again, how he’d watched over her and hadn’t said a single word. “You should’ve said something…but given the circumstances, perhaps you felt you couldn’t?”

She purses her lips. “It’s hard to explain, but yes.”

You could've come to me. A selfish thought, one born from concern but also a hurt, childish part of him. He dismisses as quickly as it had come.

“It doesn’t mean you have lost your training and experience," he says. "You’ve always had the qualities of a lieutenant.”

“A lieutenant doesn’t act like this,” Momo rebukes, shaking her head. “If not for Captain Aizen, I would never have aspired to become a lieutenant. If not for him -- ”

“You never needed him. You would’ve become a lieutenant sooner or later.”

“How can you know that?” There’s a pinch of annoyance in her voice. Good, get her away from the melancholy, but don't let her stray into anger either.

“Because you’ve always been who you are, Hinamori.” He wants to leave it at that, but judging from the confused tilted of her head – normally endearing gesture of hers – he needs to elaborate. “Do you remember that night we were out in the forest in the middle of the storm in the Junrinan?”

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm making a point. Do you remember or not?"

Her brows furrow deeper as she tries to recall. "I think so…it was a long time ago. Not long after we met.”

Toshiro nods. “You tried to get me involved with your group of friends. We were playing a game, but then a storm came. Everyone was scared, including you, but you still took charge led everyone back to the Junrinan.”

She sighs. “That hardly counts as an example of leadership, Shiro-chan. Especially not on the level of the Gotei Thirteen.”

“You want more examples then.” He settles himself in, shifting his crossed legs until he fully faces her. “On your first training mission while enrolled in the Academy, you saved Hisagi’s life until backup arrived. Again, you were afraid, but made a decision, perhaps a reckless one in some officials' eyes, but it was one that saved the life of a future Lieutenant. A year later, you…”

He proceeds to list off every instance she demonstrated leadership qualities, from their days in the Academy all the way to her first days as a Lieutenant. With each one, she loses the slump in her shoulders, and she leans forward, in awe of how many moments he recalls.

He doesn’t make it to end of his list when Momo holds up a hand with a chuckle. “I-I get the idea, you've made your point.” Then, with a small, playful smile, “Why were you keeping track of all these?”

Toshiro stutters, and the warmth threatening to color his cheeks burns particularly strong against the cold of the rain. “I wasn’t! These just happen to be moments where I saw – w-where you demonstrated the qualities of a lieutenant!”

She laughs, and despite his embarrassment, Toshiro is glad to hear it. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear it until now. While he grumbles to himself, her laughter gradually fades away.

Her smile becomes smaller and wistful as she bows her head. “That was in the past though, Shiro-chan. I don’t think I can be like that again…not without –”

“You can, and you will.” He straightens. “Remember it wasn’t him who ultimately gave you the rank of lieutenant. You completed the tests, and the Captain Commander deemed you worthy of it. He hasn’t revoked your rank after you woke up. Surely that means he wants you to recover so you could return to your duties.” Then, more gently, “In hindsight, perhaps more consideration should’ve been taken about the conditions of your recovery.”

She raises her eyes to his, tears quivering in the corners. “I couldn’t be there anymore. I know what I should’ve done, but I felt… It became too much, I couldn’t burden anyone with it. I just wanted to get away from everything.” He waits as she wipes her eyes, not letting the tears fall from them. “I’m sick of feeling useless, but what can I do? I still haven’t…No, I did. I am accepting what Captain Aizen did."

He can't let this new revelation sink in. Her eyes are wide with hope, and he knows he’s on the verge of convincing her to return and know how valued she truly is. One more push, but what can he say? What hadn’t he addressed?

"I don't know what to do, Shiro-chan," she continues. "How do I stop thinking about the past?”

As if he knew the answer. He too has the same affliction, though not severely as she does.

Again he tries to put himself in her position and imagine her decision to run away from her room and then through the forest. She’d wanted to escape from everything that reminded her of Aizen. She’d gone away, not to anyone, because she feared being a burden. Was that the only reason?

Gradually, the words form on his tongue, but it’s for s sentiment personal it threatens to tear at his heart. It wouldn’t hurt him really, but what if it didn’t work? He’d have revealed something that would show how deep her influence runs in him. Would she see how he feels? He didn’t even fully understand his feelings for her. They’d morphed and changed over the years, and ever since Aizen’s betrayal ever since he’d lost her, they’d become more pronounced. He had once seen her as only a friend, but it's more now.

He swallows thickly, and the act is enough to push those words back down. He can reflect on his cowardice later. Ever the pragmatist, he notices how dark the sky has gotten; he predicts the sun is edging closer towards the horizon behind the clouds.

Toshiro stands. “We can discuss this further on the way back.”

Momo only blinks.

“We have to head back,” he reiterates. “It'll be nightfall if we don't go now. Also, Matsumoto is probably on her way here. We should meet her halfway.”

Momo stares out into the mist and rain, pensive. It dawns on her what's about to happen.

“Let’s come up with points,” he adds, “to convince the Captain-Commander to change things for you.” He thinks it a pathetic offer, but there isn’t much else he can do.

He’s not surprised when a full minute later she gives him a wan smile. “We don't have to. I know the chances are he won't change things."

Toshiro wants to argue back, but he can only look ruefully at the floorboards.

"You won’t be able to go in there with me, will you?”

The fact she wants him there by her side makes his heart clench. “I doubt he’ll allow it.”

The corners of her mouth rise a fraction higher. Then, she sighs quietly. “All right.”

He thinks to hold his hand out, but she starts to get up on her own. When her unsteady legs give way and she yelps, he rushes forward to grab her arms. With a wince, she falls back against the wall and tries again. He doesn’t let go until she’s standing.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. Then, he can’t take it as a sign that she’s feeling better, but a small rush of relief fills him briefly when she ties her lieutenant’s badge back around her upper arm.

Next, she tugs on her hair ribbon, and it gives little resistance. She tucks her hair cloth into her sleeve, and styles her hair into a ponytail that rests on her shoulder, tying it off with her ribbon. She nods to him, ready to go.

She’s slow to walk, clutching the door frames and walls as they make their way out. She pauses in the doorway of the main room. “When do you think the rain will stop?”

Toshiro, who had been eyeing her wearily this whole time, slowly peals himself away from her and comes out from the shelter of the caved in roof. Fresh rain hits the crown his head and the shoulders of his haori. If not for the situation at hand, he would find nothing but peace and calm in being here. The rain pelts down on him, but there is only quiet surrounding him.

He understands her concern; this weather will hinder them, especially as it gets darker.

When he looks to the clouds, an idea crosses his mind. It makes him wince and his brows furrow deeper. In his mind, it’d be an interference with the natural way of the world and be an abuse of his powers. He shouldn’t, had nearly sworn to himself he would never use his abilities in such ways beyond combat. He reasons that it will make the journey back easier, and that this would be the only time he does this.

With Momo watching him curiously, sodden from head to toe and shaking, he feels the scale tip in favor of the idea even more.

With a quivering breath, he briskly walks to the edge of the veranda and suddenly unsheathes Hyourinmaru, causing Momo to grunt in confusion.

“What’re you…?” Her question dies on her lips when he quietly chants the release for his Shikai. Hyourinmaru’s chain clinks as the crescent blade hits the broken floorboards. Toshiro keeps his gaze on the skies, looking through the sheets of rain and mist.

He takes a deep breath in, letting it expand his chest and raise his shoulders. He takes hold of the chain in his left hand, and raises the zanpakuto towards the sky with his right. Closing his eyes, he meditates on the chill that permeates his skin, from the one emanating from Hyrourinmaru and from the rain drenched into his uniform. From those currents, he can feel the sways and swirls of the air. Then, way the rain falls, the moisture that lingers in the air beneath the slowly moving clouds.

And somewhere in between all of this, he senses the flow of it all. As he breathes out, he bows his head and a ring of Hyourinmaru’s reiatsu disperses around them. The clouds thin out, the thin mist vanishes completely, and the rain lessens. Gradually, it eases away to nothing but a few light drops.

He lowers Hyourinmaru and drops the chain. When he opens his eyes and turns to Momo, he’s surprised by her look of muted awe. He tries to ignore the discomfort it brings, returning Hyourinmaru to his sealed form and sheathing him across his back as he drops off the edge and lands on to the dirt. “Come on, we should get going.”

Momo is slow to move; he can’t tell if it’s from hesitation or from coming out of her awed stupor or both. Eventually, she lowers herself over to the edge of the veranda and, with a wince, she stands.

At his alarmed expression, she holds up one hand and uses the other to rub her lower back. “I’m okay, I was just sitting down for too long.”

He gives her a moment to adjust, looking around them to remember which direction he’d come from. When he turns back to her, she’s staring at Hyourinmaru’s hilt.

“Tobiume must be furious with me,” she muses. “I’ve left her behind again.”

Toshiro knows she’s referring to when she’d been led to Aizen. When he’d recovered, he’d learned from his officer that Momo had left Tobiume behind in the room he’d sealed off with . It had shown her disconnect from everything, even her own zanpakuto.

“She’s been comforting me this whole time,” Momo continues. “She’s always encouraged me and tried to help me remembering the positives. Recently, though, I think she’s been frustrated with me.”

Toshiro purses his lips into a tight line. “Judging from how your zanpakuto was before I came here, I doubt that’s the case.” At her confused grunt, he adds. “As is, that’s matter for you and Tobiume to discuss yourselves.” He starts back the way he came. “We need to get going.”

She’s quick to join his side. Searching the thick forest ahead of them, she says, “I went out really far. I don’t know how I managed to get all the way out here.”

In the hesitating silence, he can sense an apology on her next breath. He speaks before she can voice it. “We’ll find our way back. If nothing else, we can send a kido to alert the others.”

She nods after a beat. “I know a good one.”

Without another word, he leads the way. Their journey is mostly silent, disturbed only by the plodding of their feet in the mud and brushing of leaves whenever Toshiro parts a shrub aside or pulls a branch back, allowing Momo to cross. Promisingly, they pass the same landmarks he’d encountered in his rush to get to her, from the outlines of where houses once stood to the crumbling statue of Mimihagi.

He notices Momo slowing to take in each of these things. She likely hadn’t noticed any of them in her haste. For a few brief moments, she seems to forget about their current situation, her eyes coming alight with curiosity at the ruins around them, before exhaustion weighs them down.

When they carefully stumble down the incline and spot the torii gate in the distance, Momo gasps. “Oh! I remember seeing that.”

"A piece of your reiatsu clung to something here." Toshiro then points to the prints of her sandals, now more faded than before. “It’s how I found you.”

He continues ahead, but Momo stares at the tracks for a long beat. He looks over his shoulder when he hears her rushing to catch up to him. When she raises her head, there’s something tremulous in her gaze.

“You came a long way,” she says, voice shaky.

“So did you,” he says, more matter of fact than he intended.

“You came looking for me,” she continues as if he hadn’t spoke, and as if his actions only now just dawned on her, “even after everything.”

We’ve been over this, he thinks with a sigh. “Hinamori --”

“I know, there’s no need for forgiveness…” She bows her head. “I felt better after you said that, but now I’ve caused trouble for you and everyone else again.”

“It’s more trouble for yourself, really.”

She nods with a wince. “What was I thinking? I was such a fool. I did nothing back there but feel sorry for myself. What did I think doing this would accomplish? I just ran away from the truth again.”

“Stop it.”

At the sternness in his tone, she looks up. Toshiro gets a sense of déjà vu, only she isn’t behind a screen this time. She’s here, right in front of him. He can do more for her now.

“You didn’t run away to cause trouble,” he says, “you’ve said it yourself. You felt trapped, and you didn’t know what to do.” He frowns at the ground. “You could’ve come to me.”

_____________________________

From the way his eyes widen and his shoulders stiffen, Momo realizes Toshiro hadn't intended to say that. She shouldn't be stunned, but perhaps she has gotten to know him more as the stoic captain than as the childhood friend she's known for decades.

Her surprise gives way to pity. “Shiro…”

“But then…I suppose I can’t blame for not.”

She frowns, picking up on the implication. “That’s not…” She purses her lips. “I didn’t go to you because of anything that happened before. You did nothing wrong. You were trying to reason with me and stop me from doing something regrettable.”

He'd gone to such lengths for her. When she'd woken up in Fourth Division, it was one of the first things on her mind. She remembered how Toshiro had been willing to fight Gin for her, how he'd sill taken care of her after she'd tried to cut him down, and she later learned it was he who found her after Aizen stabbed her beneath Central Forty Six. It's why she felt a pressing need to apologise to him, even braving the Captain-Commander with her request to speak with him.

He cares, much more than he should given what she'd done.

He stares at her now, waiting for her to continue, his eyes practically asking, Then why? Why didn't you?

After everything she's put him through, she owes him this much. "Do you remember the last time we spoke?"

It's futile to ask, because of course he'd remember. Still, he nods.

"Back then, I begged you to save Captain Aizen's life." She winces at the tightness that takes over Toshiro's expression. The simmering sensation returns to his reiatsu, but she presses on. "I should never have asked that of you, but I still did, after everything that happened."

"Hinamori, you were still coming to terms with what happened."

"It's no excuse. I knew even back then, but I tried to deny it." She presses her lips together when a pang runs through her chest. "It's made worse because Captain Unohana told me you came to visit me while I was unconscious.”

At his shocked grunt, she raises a hand.

“She only told me when I asked who came to see me,” she adds. “She mentioned several officers visited, and I wanted to know who exactly.”

“Why would you want to know that?”

She hesitates. “I wronged a lot of people. My friends, my own officers…If they’d come to see me, I wanted to thank them for coming, and to tell them I’ll get better. If they didn't, I still wanted to apologize to them."

She steps closer to Toshiro. His eyes are wide, almost the same size as when he was a child. Remembering him like that, and knowing the kindness he always hides had been present even back then, almost makes her weep.

She can't understand why, but seeing her disappearing footsteps next to his fresher ones in the mud brought forth that guilt she felt upon waking up in Fourth Division again, compounding the remorse she already feels for her actions today. It's if she realizing all over again what he'd done to help her.

Maybe, ironically, the fact he’d come looking for her, even if he didn’t fully understand why she had run away or what she felt, means more than if he did understand.

Toshiro may not give her the words to comfort her or guide her on what she should do. But he’s here. After everything she’d done, he’s still here. And it's enough.

"When I found out you visited me, I was shocked," she continues, swallowing against the rising urge to sob. "I thought after everything I put you through, and everything that happened outside of your control, you wouldn't want to see me. I never even thanked you for coming to see me, but I can now." She offers a wobbly smile. "I promise I will get better, and if I do lose my rank, I'm still grateful for everything you did for me."

____________________________________

Guilt strikes through Toshiro like a blade. She's thankful he visited her, and yet he hadn’t said a word to her. He couldn’t find any to say, no matter how many times he visited.

He shakes his head to himself. This isn’t about him, and he can only hope his next words, the ones he’d pushed back out of fear, would give her the strength and comfort she’s always given him. The words he should’ve said while she was unconscious to, in some naive attempt, bring her back sooner.

She only makes a startled grunt when his hand envelops one of hers. There’s little he can do to warm his hands, but the constant chill emanating from there never bothered her in the past.

“You once told me to ‘believe in everyone’.” His heart hammers and a lump forms in his throat. “I don’t know if I can, but you, Hinamori…I can believe in you. I still believe in you.” He briefly squeezes her hand. I always have.

She’s too shocked to wipe the tears that rapidly form and fall from her widened eyes. Eventually, she uses her free hand to do so. “S-Shiro-chan.”

“And I’m not the only one,” he quickly adds, trying to cover up the discomfort that comes with admitting something so personal. “Matsumoto, Kira, Abarai and all the other Lieutenant’s do."

She sniffs with a wobbly smile. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He lets his hand loosen and drift away from hers. “Your abilities are not tied to Aizen, they're your own. I don't know how you can stop thinking about the past, but you have keep moving forward. You don't owe anyone an apology, you just need to get better, and you will.”

Something unease shifts across her face, something that makes his gut twist, but it's gone so quickly he almost questions if he saw anything. Before he can speak, she strides forward and wraps her arms around him. His words turn into a startled, weak sound.

"Thank you," she whispers into his shoulder. "Thank you so much."

It's several seconds later when his arms come around her in return, and that expression from before is forgotten.

_________________________________

It's sunset by the time they find the clearer paths. They don't walk far down them when they spot Rangiku in the distances, flanked by several officers.

Without warning, she flash steps up to them. "Hinamori! Captain!"

Toshiro doesn't have to look over at Momo to know she can't contain her emotions. She falls into a hug, sobbing into Rangiku's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for making you worry."

Rangiku sighs. "You needed some time away. I can understand."

"That doesn't excuse my actions."

"Maybe not, but for me, I understand."

They stand there for a whole minute, not saying another word. Toshiro can't help but look at the scene. The two have known each other since Momo happened to visit the Tenth Division while Rangiku was briefing Toshiro on a mission when he was a seated officer, but they' only been friends ever since Momo became a Lieutenant. Like Momo, Rangiku naturally knew how to console another. He should've sent her to the forest instead. Maybe they would've come back sooner. Maybe Momo would be more at ease.

When they break apart, Rangiku gives Momo a reassuring smile. "It'll take a while, but you're an officer of the Gotei Thirteen. You have the strength and courage to see this through."

Momo nods back weakly. "Thank you." She turns to Toshiro. "I better go see the Captain-Commander and explain myself."

Despite her weak smile, her tone isn't one of resignation. It reminds him of when she's on duty, after clarifying a mistake she made and the measures she will take to correct it. Truly a seated officer of Gotei Thirteen.

He takes a few steps in the direction of the Seireitei. "We better get going." Then, to Rangiku. "Let our subordinates in the Rukongai know what has happened and direct them back to the barracks. I will go to Fifth Division after seeing Hinamori to the First Division."

Rangiku nods stiffly, but her eyes are soft with relief. "Yes, sir."

She rushes back into the Junrinan while they head off to the right, gradually leaving the forest until they're in front of the Western Gate. Jidanbo is startled to see them. He begins to speak, but Toshiro shakes his head once, and he remains silent as he lets them pass through.

They barely speak a word to each other on their way to the First Division. Shinigami that had been searching for Momo or just happened to be passing by stop and stare, a few even having the gall to turn to each other and whisper. Toshiro levels them a look that makes them go ridged and look away.

It doesn't stop Momo from cringing. "I've really caused a mess, haven't I?" she whispers to him.

"It'll be fine," is all Toshiro can offer.

When they pass the main entrance of Tenth Division, Toshiro comes to a stop.

"What's wrong?" Momo asks from behind him.

Despite the steadiness in her voice, she'd been shivering this whole time. The tremors are worse now that they aren't running. At this rate, she'll get a cold.

He enters his Division's entrance. "Come on."

He senses her apprehension, but follows. His officers notice him approaching the main barracks, starting to come up to him but then seeing Momo. Unlike the others they'd encountered before, they leave the two alone. He gives appreciative nods in their direction.

He takes her around the outside of the barracks, avoiding most of his subordinates, and brings her inside to room with spare uniforms and towels.

"Find a uniform in your size" he instructs. "I'll let Isawa know your uniform is here, he can come collect it later. You can't e freezing when you're in front of the Captain-Commander."

Her eyes soften with a tenderness that makes his heart skip a beat. "It'd be hard not to though, considering what element he wields."

He could almost laugh from shock at the return of her teasing, but remains focused on the task at hand. "It's not a time to be light-hearted. Come on, he'll be wondering where you are."

She hurriedly pulls the cloest door aside and rummages through. He's glad his sternness doesn't diminish her small smile at least. "Thank you, Shiro-chan. I promise I'll wash and return this in the next few days...or someone will, anyway."

He wants to say if she follows whatever the Captain Commander sets out and pleads her case, she might be able to get her freedoms back sooner, but he remains silent as he leaves the room to let her get changed. She emerges eight minutes later in a fresh uniform and with slightly drier hair, now tied back into a bun with a cloth.

They resume their walk to First Division with hast.

“I meant what I said before,” Momo says. “I’m going to get better. I’ll make sure of it, no matter what.”

“I know you will.” Then, because a part of his heart stirred as the insigna of First Division loomed over the horizon. “Don't strain yourself, though. You need to take as much time as you need. I’ll be here, when you’re ready.”

Her eyes become glassy. “I know.”

Chojiro is already waiting for them at the First Division’s main entrance. He briefly looks at Momo, his eyes softening for a fraction of a second before resolutely turning and bowing to Toshiro. “Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya. I will lead Lieutenant Hinamori to the Captain-Commander.”

“Thank you.” Then, to Momo. "I will inform Isawa of where you are."

She bows deeply to him. “Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun. I'm sorry for all of the trouble I have caused you.”

“ Don't be, and it's ‘Captain Hitsugaya’, Hinamori.” Back to business as usual. It has to be this way, especially if she’s to keep her rank.

She only nods and turns to leave with Chojiro. Toshiro does stay to watch them go, quickly spinning around to run back to his division. His chest feel lighter, the weights that had gripped him lifted. He still has much work to do, and he needs to atone for what he failed to do, but Momo is safe, and she will recover. He takes what comfrt he can from that, and lock it away when he faces Aizen in battle.

A minute later, the gentle rain turns back into a downpour.

______________________

Despite the anxiety thrumming through her, Momo keeps her head held high. Chojiro is silent next to her, but his occasional glance tells her he wants to say something.

“Is the Captain-Commander furious with me?” she says, feeling silly and childish.

“He will have words,” Chojiro says. “What those words are, I cannot say.”

“I understand.”

Momo remains silent for the rest of tway to the meeting hall. She’s tired, the most exhausted she’s ever been. She may even fall asleep while standing in front of the Captain Commander. She can’t hide the brief smirk at the thought. As Toshiro said before, she shouldn’t be like this. She should be reverent and scared, afraid of what punishment or lecture she’s about to receive. And she will be in the moment, but between now and then, she basks in the small bit of unprecedented happiness she has.

She sobers at the sight of the meeting doors at the other end of the walkway. Everyone is working hard and planning for a confrontation. She thinks of Izuru and Hisagi, even reaches her senses out to detect their reiatsu in the distance. They’ll have to confront their captains. I wonder if they feel the same way I do?

She’d overheard about the planned confrontation. It had been in bits and pieces over the last few days, between Genji and her Fourth Seat, once outside of her room, and other times outside late into the night. She’d imagine the scenario, the battles unfolding between the Gotei Thirteen and the Arrancars. She tried to imagine standing before him on the battlefield, but it sent her into a panic. If he’s there, she couldn’t run away anymore. She’d have to fully accept he’s a traitor, and that everything before with him was a lie.

But not your skills, and not who you are. It was as if another voice spoke in her mind. It belonged to Toshiro, and Rangiku, and her other friends. Is that what she wanted to hear them say? Toshiro had spoken something to that effect before.

Above her, the rain thrums against the roof.

Hitsugaya-kun believes I can lead my Division. The main doors open, leading her into the waiting area. Rather than fear, a fierce determination begins to bubble up from the pit of her stomach. I need to show him and everyone else I can still be the lieutenant of the Fifth Divison. I’ll get better. I won’t run away from the truth anymore.

How these thoughts inspired a plan that formed while speaking with Yamamoto, one she had tried to harshly dismiss when she got back to her division but eventually saw through with a determination and conviction she’d never experienced before, is something she will think of ad nauseam during her first days of recovery in Fourth Division after Aizen’s defeat.

For now, she approaches the meeting halls doors fighting off a smile. Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun.

[pinkhairedlily]

Blue Fire Tree

Prompt: Everlasting (last day omgggg) | Gift for @tinaillustrations ! Hope you like this fluffy piece! I enjoyed writing this one. 🤗| Happy HitsuHina Week! @hitsuhina-week 💛💙

“Fire trees should be blue not red,” Ichika mumbles while filling in the traced pattern of the tree on the canvass as Hinamori gathers her unruly red mane into a semblance of a bun. Her charge was a Shinigami apprentice and had the hodgepodge attitude of both of her parents. She was sarcastic, blunt, inquisitive, passionate, and kind.

Renji thought she was the best person to teach his daughter common spells to start off her training. Not that Hinamori disliked being the resident kido expert. She particularly loved the monicker, but there were times she felt she didn’t deserve the title. Like today when, for some other reason, Ichika and her was blindsided by arts and crafts.

“Wouldn’t you like the flowers to resemble your hair?” Hinamori clips the last of the strands and looks over the child’s shoulder. The colors spill out of the lines and the scenery seems to change from summer to winter.

“But blue is the hottest color. Imagine trees blooming with the brightest flames, the most intense warmth, and the most lasting flowers.” Ichika finishes the piece with a last dash of blue paint. The apprentice turns to her and asks, “Does it look so desolate?”

“No, not really. To me, winter has always been warm.“

Someone coughs behind them to get their attention. Hitsugaya Toushiro, captain of the 10th Division, stands awkwardly at the entrance of the dojo with a tray of tea and pot of biscuits. It doesn’t escape her notice that he used the tea set she gave last Christmas, and this observation makes her feel giddy inside.

Maybe I’m just appreciative of people who use my gifts, Hinamori justifies to herself.

“Hello, Captain Hitsugaya. Is that for us or for Vice-Captain Momo?” Ichika greets him as she takes the tray off his hands.

The blush creeps on the captain’s face just as quickly as his brows furrow in annoyance. He quickly glares at the mischievous remark of Ichika and redirects his gaze to his equally flustered childhood best friend. “This was not of my own good will. I was threatened by Byakuya to take good care of his precious niece, and it just so happens that this space is under my jurisdiction.”

Hinamori tilts her head in a slight apology. “I hope we don’t bother you too much. Would you like to join us for some art session? Ichika loves to paint today.”

He almost says something, but he stops himself. His stance goes from alert to rigid, and tension fills the air. “Maybe some other time.” Ichika glances from her current teacher to the captain and back to her teacher again.

“Oh, sorry for taking up your time.” Hinamori slightly bows, unsure of what transpired just now, and Hitsugaya nods in return. Before he is completely out of her sight, she calls out to him again.

“Shiro-chan?” He glances back at the sound of his nickname. “Thanks for the tea.”

He smiles in mild annoyance before he flash-steps out of their sight. “It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

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

“Something’s bothering you,” Rangiku says to Hinamori as she slides beside her in the ramen booth. “Your treat in exchange for my wisdom.” She proceeds to order her usual ramen and sake combo.

“How was your trip to the Land of the Living?” Hinamori asks, obviously skirting the issue she wishes to raise.

“Kazui is subdued and gentle like his mother, but somehow, he manages to get into fights with bullies on the street. It’s his Ichigo genes.” The combo meal arrives along with two shot glasses. “How are you doing with the chaotic devil spawn Ichika?”

“She’s progressing really fast with the kido, but she gets so distracted easily. It’s cute though that Renji and Rukia are not pressuring her. Great parents. How nice it must be.”

Rangiku side-eyes her while slurping the thick noodles. “How nice what now – “

Hinamori plays with her empty bowl and fidgets with her chopsticks. “To not be alone.”

She chokes on her noodles and quickly downs half of the sake bottle. “Oh, this is great news! I have someone on my mind who would like to be in your company forever.”

Hinamori gives no response and instead continues fiddling with her bowl. “How nice it is to be also like Shiro-chan, content and busy enough to be single. How do I become like your captain, Rangiku?”

The smile fades from the woman’s face and is replaced by a bustling vein near her temple. “I’m sorry what did that short man do or say to you?”

“I asked him if he would like to do some art with us, you know, help me with babysitting for a few minutes, but he literally stiffened like a stick. Seems like he doesn’t want to waste time with kids or do any family-related activities. Or maybe he’s just too busy, captain duties and all.”

And yet he took the time to bring you tea, a voice screams inside her mind.

“That’s….rude,” an exasperated Rangiku remarks. She pours a glass for Hinamori and decides on a plan. “Unless you’re seeing him as….?”

“Huh? Oh no no no.” Hinamori downs the liquid in one gulp, suddenly embarrassed by her friend’s insinuation. “We’re just friends, childhood friends. I…don’t see Shiro-chan that way.”

“Sure, whatever you say Momo. Do you want me to introduce you to some people?”

Hinamori looks up at her, doe-eyed.

“I guess that’s a yes.”

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

Hinamori actually forgot about her request to Rangiku as she and her student started to settle in a rather serious kido training. The plan apparently was set to happen after a week when she came across a bulletin announcing her quest for a perfect match through a one-day interview application. This was the first time Hinamori wanted to be swallowed by the void and never return to Seiretei.

She finds herself visiting Division 10 HQ every afternoon but to no avail since coincidentally, Rangiku has some errands to do in Karakura, and won’t be back until the date of the interview. Or maybe it has also something to do with Hinamori avoiding Hitsugaya and having to do all the explaining. And so she had no choice but to wait for the inevitable day.

“Uhhh Vice-Captain Matsumoto, you said introduce, not organize a whole dating screening process!” Hinamori’s voice goes a pitch higher for each word, but Rangiku is too busy arranging the people lining up to notice her.

Her current captain, Shinji Hirako, chuckles beside the blondie, amused by the growing line of eligible Shinigami singles in their HQ. “You are quite the eye candy in our division, huh. Didn’t expect you’d have this many suitors.” He squeezes his vice-captain’s shoulder as form of reassurance. “You should have told me, Hinamori. I could have set you up in an arranged marriage.”

“Captain, that’s atrocious!” Hinamori protests. She walks over to Rangiku to disperse the line, but Yumichika and Ikkaku move to her side and grabs her midway through her litany of objections. They lead her to a makeshift container with two chairs facing each other and a table in between.

“This is ridiculous,” Hinamori mumbles her breath, her energy already defeated by the two dumbasses in front of her.

“Well to be fair, Hinamori, this is a long time coming,” Yumichika says.

“And the result necessitates this kind of method so stop mumbling and screen your admirers, babe,” Ikkaku supplies. Irritated, Hinamori chases them off with two fireballs.

The first ten Shinigami ‘applicants’ were too insufferable as they were clearly aiming for the prestige of her position.

“If dating a vice-captain would give me a higher seat in Gotei 13 then why am I still single?” she bats the question to the 11th person who sat across her. When they didn’t give her an answer, she sighs, “Next please.”

“Would you know what’s my favorite brand of tea?”

“Uhh, Robusta.”

“I believe that’s coffee. Next please.”

“Hello, vice-captain Hinamori, I brought you peaches. They’re my favorite.”

“I’m allergic to them. I’m sorry. Next please?”

“What are your strengths?”

“Well, I can do shunpo.”

“That’s basic Shinigami skills.”

“…………..”

“…………..”

“I’ll see myself out. Thank you for your time, vice-captain.”

“I know you’re traumatized by Aizen-“

The container collapses as Hinamori summons Tobiume.

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

“I think I will be forever alone.” Hinamori looks on as her fellow vice-captains clean up the mess she incurred over the unfinished statement earlier.

“I’m really sorry if I did the whole thing over the top,” Rangiku tells her sincerely. She hugs the raven-haired girl and waits in silent for the commotion to die down. “Though the last one was really foul, and you were valid to be angry.”

“I was afraid I’d burn down Captain Shinji’s quarters.”

“You can, just to piss him off. The whole process is so draining, huh?” Hinamori nods at the observation. Rangiku continues, seemingly voicing her own thoughts, “It’s hard to put yourself out there especially when they don’t know batshit about you. Would be easier if you have common interests or when they’re already your friend.”

The last phrase is said so pointedly that Hinamori’s mind automatically pictures Hitsugaya. She runs along with her imagination. How easy it would be indeed to spend the rest of her life with him. And as if her mind conjured him, the 10th Division Captain comes into view alongside Ichika. It looks like her student dragged him to the unfortunate event.

There’s an angry glint in his eyes that Hinamori noticed. It was the torn expression he wore when she wounded her knees back when they were kids, the same frown when she told him she would kill for the traitor, the same worried eyes when she almost died. But his eyes refuse to meet hers.

“You missed all the fun, Captain.” Rangiku stretches out her arms as she stands up. She gestures for the rest of their friends to come nearer so they could re-group and go home. “It was a bad plan, and I owe Hinamori one. So we’re kinda ready for your scolding.”

Hitsugaya stays silent throughout the shuffling of his fellow Shinigami, in fact he remains frozen for too long that Ichika elbows him to get a response out of him. “Come on, you ruminated one week for this, and I had to physically stop you from harassing the interested applicants.”

“Shut up, Ichika,” the silver-haired captain mutters.

“I’ll tell on you to Uncle Byakuya!” the redhead sticks out her tongue and runs over to the side of Rangiku.

More annoyed than ever, Hitsugaya grunts and storms off towards Hinamori. “I’m not here to scold anyone. I’m here for the….dating application,” he gulps amid the collective gasps that ran through the group and the muffled laughter of Rangiku who clearly foresaw this.

“Well, what can I say, but fucking finally!” The blonde swigs a new bottle of wine from inside her robes and goes to do a little crowd control.

Hinamori’s eyes get a little bit bigger, and she stares at him with mouth agape, but she lets him grab her hand, in a gentle manner that he usually does, and brings her to the farthest fire tree in the area.

“Shiro-chan, what did you mean……” She continues to stare at his hand who somehow refuses to let go of her yet.

Ironically, he is also staring at the same hand, unsure whether to let go right now before he can actually say something. “I don’t know why you had to go through all of that.”

“I’m..I’m still confused, to be honest. It was just a passing feeling of loneliness, and I rambled to Rangiku which she took seriously….” Hinamori knows she is starting to word vomit out of nervousness, but she halts when he finally lets her go. Maybe she has misunderstood his presence again.

Hitsugaya raises his palm to her. “Would you let me…uhhh…word vomit this time?”

She slowly nods, rather shocked at his insistence, and even more so when he chooses to ramble.

“Momo, I have a cold reiatsu. My touch is never warm. But I know you like green tea, steeped in warm water for exactly 10 minutes, and that you don’t put sugar. You are afraid of storms, and you need a blanket around you to calm down. You like watermelon, but I think it’s because I subjected you to multiple summers of conditioning. You’re my childhood best friend. You’re hardworking. You are a kido expert. You earned your right to be a vice-captain, and you’ll do greater things.

And I know it’s not enough to say that I know you, I’ve always known you, but will it be enough for you to allow me to stay beside you?”

Hinamori leans against the trunk of the fire tree, breathless from his train of words. “Oh my god, this is too overwhelming. I thought you hated being not single.”

“What?” Hitsugaya looks at her with a puzzled expression.

“You don’t like Ichika. Or doing art…with kids.”

“Well, Ichika is a brat to me, but she’s a good student and will be a good Shinigami like her parents.” He nurses his temples for the growing headache. “Momo, listen to me.” He steps closer to her and makes sure she’s only looking at him. “I panicked because I visualized you and me….and you know. It wasn’t right when I haven’t even told you anything yet.”

“Oh.” The moment of realization dawns on her. “Oh, that’s great.”

“So we can finally go back to how we were.” Hitsugaya lets out a shaky breath as he sits on the grass and watches as the red petals of the fire tree shower them lightly.

A blushing Hinamori crouches down to his level. “Well, not quite. You should know, Shiro-chan, your reiatsu has always been warm and comforting to me.” She reaches out to take his hand and intertwines their fingers.

Hitsugaya smiles as he silently thanks himself that he outgrew her by two inches so he could easily slip a kiss on her forehead. “It’s Captain Hitsugaya.”

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

Ichika tries to see beyond the wall of spectators but Rangiku is not letting anyone through. She huffs indignantly, wanting to know whether her incessant prodding and pestering of the oblivious Hitsugaya bore some fruit. She has no choice but to juice out all the details later on from her uncle.

On second thought, maybe she won’t have to. Blue petals swayed with the light breeze of the wind, and on the far edge of the Fifth Division’s HQ is a lone blue fire tree.

[canariie]

i just called to say

Rating: K+

Synopsis: “Momo-chan—what’s wrong? Should I come in?”

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked and Momo winced at how pitiful she sounded. The door tentatively opened as Orihime peeked her head in, her warm amber eyes immediately softening when she saw the lieutenant in the tub.

“I’m sorry to be crying like this,” Momo said as she wiped her tears. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of people after the Winter War, but some habits were harder to kick.

Orihime smiled understandingly as she knelt down and held out a small towel. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Momo-chan.”

…

Momo arrives in the World of the Living to start her personal kido training sessions and spends the night at Orihime’s apartment.

Word Count: 5460 words

Setting: during the time skip, before the epilogue of Bleach (probably 3 years after the last chapter)

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week‘s Hitsuhina Week 2022  - Day 4 - Things Left Unsaid

Authour’s Note:  THIS IS SO LATE I KNOW ;-;

I honestly didn’t know that this would grow so much! This is my longest fic on tumblr to date!!!

I struggled a lot with figuring out what to write for the celebration week, I think this was my fourth attempt at something? But the more I reflected on writing Orihime in this, I found myself saying to myself, oh this needs to be fleshed out longer, i have to include this as well. Until it evolved into this long, short novella for you all.

For the most part this is Momo and Orihime, but there are conversations on Ichihime (and this is obviously, or maybe not so obvious, Hitsuhina) so proceed as you will haha.

This was inspired by many many things:

- @rays-of-fire-and-ice‘s fic In Time’s of Peace

- @whipplefilter ‘s fic Donki

Shout out to Harry Style’s Late Night Talking and Steve Wonder’s I Just Called to Say I Love You for being the inspiration around intimate phone calls.

Enjoy!

—

"lnoue-san, I'm so sorry I'm late! My meeting went over, and I had to wait to be approved for a new departure time, which took longer because the Senkaimon wasn’t prepared in time," Momo rambled, panting in between breaths.

It was late into the summer night and Momo had just arrived from Soul Society into the World of the Living. It was the first time on her own without a predetermined mission, and she wanted to make the most of it. Hirako-taicho had given her a week off to train with Haachi of the Vizards so she could develop her kido skills. It was something they both had wanted for a long time, and the fifth division was finally in a place where Momo could take the time off to work on her own personal goals.  

However, her first steps weren’t as smooth as she couldn’t get her location to work on her denreishinki correctly— it would throw her two streets over and its north arrow wasn’t calibrated correctly (though the twelfth division had assured her it was the newest prototype with the latest updates) leaving her clueless in the dark of how to find Orihime Inoue’s apartment. By the time she had picked up her gigai, got lost around the neighborhood, circled around twice, and walked up the steps to the apartment, Momo was flustered and sweaty with her clothes sticking to herself.

"No worries, Hinamori-chan!" Inoue chirped, gently grabbing her bags from her hand and leading her into the kitchen. "I just got back from work and was setting up the extra futon!"

"Thank you, lnoue-san," Momo said with a defeated sigh. Just looking at the girl in her oversized shirt and baggy pants, instantly put her racing mind to ease. Though they hadn’t met before, Hirako-taicho had told her that the human girl was more than happy to host Momo since she herself was continuing her own healing training with the former Kido corps leader.

"Also!” The human girl beamed, “Please call me Orihime!"

Momo smiled. "Then, please call me Momo."

Though the apartment was small, there was a charm of youth that the lieutenant didn’t realize she missed from being in the barracks. Little stationary pens and washi tape (which Momo made a note to ask Orihime where she bought them for later) along with a pile of worn old schoolbooks stacked on the desk. A small bookshelf hosted stuffed animals and novels with an old pink CD player perched on top. Below the hanging fabric print, Momo noticed a small family altar with a picture of a handsome dark haired young man.

Though she could see Orihime all around her, there was also a sense of a new presence: a dark blue coffee mug next to a pale pink teacup; military green flip flops by the entrance next to soft white bunny slippers; a black hoodie with a ‘15’ emblem hanging by the closet door. Someone had squeezed themselves into the space and the apartment had accommodated itself for one more.

It was cozy and intimate, and filled Momo with a longing for peace. Things had been hectic in Soul Society, from her training new recruits to also part timing at the Academy—she was excited to be involved in so much and could feel herself growing. But after a long day of prepping her subordinates before she left and emergency meetings, she felt that she barely had the time to breathe, let alone sit down to herself.

"Would you like me to warm up the bath?"

At the thought of immersing herself in warm water, Momo could feel her shoulders instantly deflate.

"That sounds wonderful," Momo sighed.

“It’s a bit small,” the human girl warned with a sheepish smile, “but feel free to use as much bubble bath mixture as you would like!”  

“I’m sure it’s alright, Orihime-chan! I really appreciate it,” Momo said with a smile, feeling a strong desire to comfort her.

As Orihime went to set up the bath, Momo opened her bags in the living room and finally got a chance to look at her denreishinki. There was a short message from Hirako-taicho asking her to message him when she reached and say hi to Hiyori (if she were in a good mood). Rangiku has also texted her asking her to give her love to Orihime and bring back some face masks from the Human World. Toushiro had texted her early in the morning before she had started that day to call him when she arrived, but in all her hurry she hadn’t paid it too much attention. She had sent him a quick text message when she stepped foot in the World of Living, to which he replied with a short “ok” – he was never the greatest at texting, but she had assumed he was busy.

Once Orihime led her to the bathroom, it didn’t take Momo long to shed off her sticky clothes and eagerly step into the steaming water. She sighed in content as she could feel her muscles loosening. It had been such a long time that she had taken a bath, she could hardly remember. There was something so feminine and relaxing about the concept that allowed herself to unwind. During the work week, she only had time for quick showers and washes— so sitting in a bathtub with bubbles felt like an unprecedented luxury. Momo settled herself in further, the water reaching the ends of her ears.

“Is the water alright?” Momo could hear Orihime say through the closed door.

“Yes, it is!” she affirmed as she blew a froth of bubbles away from her knees. Momo giggled to herself as some landed on her nose.

“I’m glad! You should try the apricot scrub! It’s the best exfoliator after a long day. By the time I come home from working in the bakery, I’m covered in flour and sugar and that’s the only thing that can take it all off.” Orihime laughed and Momo hummed in agreement, wondering absentmindedly if it was a human tradition to have a conversation through the bathroom door.

It was quiet for a moment and all Momo could hear was the sound of cicadas chirping outside. The slosh of water echoed across the bathroom walls. Everything was much quieter this time of night, like the whole world had paused to take a breath. As she leaned against the rim of the tub, Momo could almost feel herself drifting to sleep.

“You know Momo-chan,” Orihime called out. A long pause stretched out. “I saw Toushiro-kun after he spoke to you.”

Her eyes snapped open as the image of her childhood friend flashed before her eyes.

“When was that?” Momo asked tentatively.

“It was right after we left Soul Society—and Rangiku-san and Toushiro-kun came to stay with me during their mission. I didn’t know much at the time—especially when they set up the TV creature. I’m still not sure how they were able to set it up by themselves—and especially how they fed it,” Orihime rambled on, and Momo felt herself piecing the memories together. A plea to the general captain. The bubble of anticipation in her stomach and the bated breath as she waited to talk to the tenth captain.

“I wasn’t sure if I should have been listening in, but the head captain called me into their meeting. It was one of the first times that I felt included in such important matters,” Orihime laughed quietly, and Momo felt herself leaning forward to hear more. “I left the two of them to update Kurosaki-kun and the others, but when I returned home… I could sense there was something off.”

Momo could feel her heart still and her breath hitched. She remembered that conversation well. Feelings of being on a precipice, so scared to look down that she could fail to see the anguish in her friend’s eyes. Looking back, she could remember the agitation in the way his eyebrow furrowed and his grimace as he muttered her name. As a vice-captain she felt ashamed that the situation escalated to the point that the General Captain had to intervene.

“What did he say?” she asked softly, her voice wavering.

If Orihime heard her anxiety, she didn’t notice and continued on. “He was really quiet and didn’t say much—he just went to the roof. But there was something in his eyes that looked…sad.”

Momo shuddered. Her dear friend had grown so strong through the ranks, but due to her naiveté, she had knocked him down and hurt him—something she would never forgive herself for.

A stab of hurt went through Momo and suddenly the water felt too hot, the steam too overpowering and her vision blurred. She sniffled and tried to keep her voice steady. “Was he okay?” she asked.

“Momo-chan—what’s wrong? Should I come in?”

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked and Momo winced at how pitiful she sounded. The door tentatively opened as Orihime peeked her head in, her warm amber eyes immediately softening when she saw the lieutenant in the tub.

“I’m sorry to be crying like this,” Momo said as she wiped her tears. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of people after the Winter War, but some habits were harder to kick.

Orihime smiled understandingly as she knelt down and held out a small towel. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Momo-chan.”

And they were no longer a shinigami and human; just two individuals who had seen harsher things at too young of a time.

“It’s my fault that he was so upset,” Momo confessed. “I was foolish and…disillusioned.”

Flashes of broken eyes. Ice missing the heart by an inch. Cold searing pain as she fell from the sky. A lamenting howl piercing the heavens before she faded into black.

She looked down at the ghost spot of her scar.

“I thought I held him back,” she weeped. “And I still do.” Her shoulders wracked in sobs as she cradled her face in her hands, embarrassed to be wallowing in self-pity but also to be seen like this by someone she just met.

“I’m sorry I brought it up, Momo-chan,” Orihime gently said, and Momo could feel a warm hand touch her shoulder. “Rangiku-san briefly explained to me what happened and ever since then…I had always wondered if Toushiro-kun was feeling that way, then you must have been really hurt as well.”

Momo looked up as Orihime smiled softly, melancholia hiding behind her eyes. Momo knew that look—she had seen it in herself before.

“You know…I also felt a similar way when the Arrancars had first attacked Karakura. Kurosaki-kun got badly hurt because of me. Rukia-chan and Abarai-kun had to come and cheer him up—which was more than I ever could do at the moment…”

Momo watched as Orihime picked absently picked at the fleece of the floor mat.

“I felt like I was…useless. They were able to support him more than I could, then. And though I had started training to become stronger for myself, it didn’t feel enough.” Orihime looked up, her amber eyes firm and resolute. “So, I went to Hueco Mundo—because that’s what I could do to protect them.”

Momo had remembered the moment and panic. She was sent back to the Fourth for further recovery when she had heard the former Ryoka girl had defected and willingly entered enemy territory. Word had spread around Soul Society of traitorous slander. They were only slowly warming up to the intruders when the scandal happened. At the time, Momo had only felt confusion but also had wondered if people had expected her to do the same—especially when she had arrived in the Fake Karakura Town.

Now looking at her, Momo realized that Orihime was just a girl who loved her friends so much that she would do anything—and everything—to protect them.

Orihime smiled proudly. “Now, I feel like I can fight alongside Kurosaki-kun. Because we’re stronger—together.” She gently took Momo’s hands in her own and squeezed it tight. “You’re already taking the first step by training with Haachi-san!” Orihime beamed. “You’re on your way to be stronger.”

Momo blushed, feeling overwhelmed by not only the warmth of the water but Orihime’s gentle smile. Though she had entered the apartment feeling exhausted and was now spent from crying, but inside there was a sense of lightness that came with a deep revelation.

“Thank you, Orihime-chan,” Momo smiled whole heartedly. “And even though I don’t know Kurosaki-kun as much, from the few times I’ve seen him, he always seems happier when he’s with you.”

The human girl’s cheeks reddened, shaking her head side to side in denial that Momo couldn’t help but think was cute. Thinking that it was time to finish up, Momo reached for the soft pink towel, but stopped in realization.

"I'm so sorry Orihime-chan but I forgot my sleeping robes," Momo apologized, feeling bad for imposing.

"No worries at all!” Orihime chirped as she got up. “The amount of times I've forgotten things while traveling—I always end up borrowing from Tatsuki-chan. I actually have an extra shirt from when Rangiku-san and Toushiro-kun was here!" Momo could hear the rustling of robes and opening of drawers. The door suddenly opened big enough for an arm to stick themselves in, "This was Toushiro-kun’s! I think it might fit you more than Rangiku-san's!"

Momo gently got out of the bathtub, making sure not to put too much weight down and slip, as she took the shirt in her hand. She let the dark black fabric run through her fingers, the silver chains clinging as they fell. Toushiro's shirt was a bit…unusual. It wasn't something she would expect him to wear.

She unwrapped the towel from herself and pulled the shirt over. The hem lifted right above her navel and the sleeves landed by her wrists. Momo brought up the collar to her nose and inhaled softly. Even though it was washed, she could still get the hint of a fresh mint scent that she had come to associate with Toushiro. Breathing it in, she relished the feeling of being at home.  

When Momo had stepped out of the bathroom, towel in hand as she dried her hair, an array of pastries on the table greeted her. Orihime was pouring some tea next to two steaming bowls of udon, that reminded Momo of how hungry she was

“This looks amazing, Orihime-chan!” Momo exclaimed as she sat down. “Really?” Orihime’s eyes widened, as if she wasn’t used to the compliment. “I’m glad! This is not usually the food that I cook so I was a little hesitant to try.”

Momo moved closer to smell the food. “It certainly smells delicious,” she affirmed.

“Since I started dating Kurosaki-kun, I’ve had to learn to follow recipes strictly...” Orihime laughed hesitantly. “I usually like to wing it and add extra garnishes, but after one of our first dates at home, he had to go to the hospital from food poisoning,” she admitted sheepishly as she poured a cup of hot tea for Momo. “Ishida-kun and he sat me down and told me that I couldn’t cook like that for others anymore.

“But I still cook for myself my own recipes,” she mused unabashed. “The only one who’s liked it so far has been Rangiku-san.”

“Well, I can take some for Rangiku-san since she loves it so much,” Momo supplied in confidence.

Orihime’s amber eyes lit up. “Yes, of course! I’ll send her some cream cake with pickles!”

Momo laughed weakly, quite unsure of what to make of that but was more than happy to dig into the bow of udon in front of her.

The two talked casually about everything and nothing. Momo asked Orihime how long she had been working at the bakery (three years), what was her favourite bread (the custard bread on Tuesdays because that’s when they make it fresh—otherwise its melon bread). The human girl had also been taking extra shifts so she could earn enough savings to get an apartment on her own. While she was in highschool a distant relative had helped her with rent, but now that she’s graduated, she’s been trying to save up so she could have her own place and hopefully go back to school.

Orihime tucked her bands behind her ears, as she bent down to slurp a noodle. “I’ve been thinking about studying nursing for a while. Ever since the war and seeing everyone hurt—it made me realize that I wanted to do something more.” Momo could agree with the sentiment herself; it was another reason why she had thrown herself so much into the academy and training. She wanted to be someone that didn’t hold others back while helping others out.

“I’ve spoken to Ishida-kun about applying to nursing school and he agrees that it’d be a good translation of my healing powers,” Orihime said. “Kurosaki-kun has also been really supportive by touring schools with me on his weekends off. Sado-kun has offered to drive me to take the exam when he’s in town as well.” Orihime smiled fondly as she talked about her friends and it reminded Momo of when Rukia would come back from the human world and tell stories to them about meeting her friends.

Orihime’s eyes widened in realization. “Haachi-san actually gave me the idea! During one of our training sessions, he had mentioned how it was one of his human part time jobs—though it took a while for people to get used to his size since they would get scared,” she laughed making Momo wonder how big the kido trainer was.

“I think you would be an amazing nurse, Orihime-chan! Rangiku-san said you’ve healed Hitsugaya-kun faster than anyone in the Fourth,” Momo recalled.  

“Speaking of, how long have you two known each other?” Orihime smiled gleefully, as if she were in on a secret.

“It’s nothing like that,” Momo defended, her cheeks going red. “We’re just childhood friends.” She had experienced this kind of inquiry from Rangiku, so she knew what to expect, but it didn’t stop the blush from reaching her face.

“Hm, I was hoping my women’s intuition was right,” Orihime muttered defeatedly. “But I do remember Toushiro-kun was popular during school,” she tapped her chin, looking up in contemplation as she munched on her melon bread. “A lot of girls were excited when he joined the kendo team briefly.”

“Really?” Momo asked, trying to keep her voice steady but feeling a slight tightness in her chest as she set her empty bowl down. She pulled her sleeve down her arm, fingering the fabric. “Well, that’s Hitsugaya-kun for you—he picks up everything so quickly.”

“He’s really an incredible leader,” Orihime affirmed. “Everyone always listened to him diligently during battles.”

“He truly is,” Momo smiled wistfully. “And not only that, but he’s also incredibly kind. He may not look like it, but he’ll go out of his way to make sure people are supported or recognized for their work.” She remembered the days when they had group training sessions, and all the seated and unseated division officers would gaze at him in wonder as he led them. Momo knew that her friend had to fight to gain respect when he obtained the captain seat prematurely. But she always felt a swell of pride inside when she heard people praising him for his leadership. “I think he’ll do amazing things wherever he goes.”

She looked up and caught Orihime smiling at her endearingly, making Momo blush. “But enough about me,” she said. “When did you and Kurosaki-kun get together?”

Orihime smiled softly. “After Rukia-chan & Abarai-kun’s wedding, he asked me to make some time for him. I didn’t really know what to expect and was even more surprised when asked if he could see me more—just the two of us.” Orihime blushed furiously, pushing the tips of her fingers together. “And since then, we’ve been taking it slow…”

Momo remembered the wedding in bits and pieces. It was a joyful occasion since it had been a long time in Soul Society that there was a large celebration. She had cried seeing Renjii and Rukia look at each other as they exchanged their vows and was an emotional mess as she drank the celebratory shots. But the excitement and high emotions had gotten to her so all she could remember was a pounding headache, blurred conversations and a late night walk home on something warm and strong.

Even though they had just met, Momo could feel there was an ease of openness between her and Orihime. She was witness to all the stories that the human teenagers had gone through in helping fight wars that weren’t theirs, so it made Momo immensely happy to see them moving on and creating happiness in their own lives.

“I’m really happy for you Orihime-chan,” Momo said wholeheartedly. “You deserve it.” She stood up, grabbing the empty bowl from Orihime and stacking it with her own dishes to take to the sink.

“I’ll take care of these dishes Momo-chan! You must be tired!”

“No, no, I can help you with those!” Momo protested. “You’re also tired from a long day of work.”

Orihime shook her head softly and smiled as she stood by the sink. “It won’t be hard at all! Kurosaki-kun and I have been calling each other every night, so I can do the dishes while I talk to him.”

“That’s so sweet,” Momo said. “It’s nice that you can make time for each other even with your busy schedules.”

Orihime blushed. “Kurosaki-kun is taking some summer classes to get ahead before the first year but since the college is far, we’ve been trying to talk on the phone often.”

“That must be so hard to be apart from each other since you two just started dating,” Momo sympathized.

“It is a bit difficult but we’re managing. Our phone calls have been really nice…” Orihime said softly, as she played with the fabric of her shirt. “I know Kurosaki-kun gets embarrassed around his family, but when it’s just the two of us on the phone he’s more comfortable. We’ve been able to be more honest with each other. Even if it’s important or trivial…it’s nice to just let some else know how you’re doing.”  

The brown-haired girl smiled. “I’m sure it is.”

Momo helped put the dishes in the sink before going to the main room and getting ready for bed. Though she had been upset earlier, after talking to the human girl, Momo felt lighter inside. She knew there would always be some part of her that would hold the wounds of the Winter War close to her heart. But she was slowly coming to terms that it was okay to keep those pieces as long as they motivated you to move on. Momo smiled remembering the human girl’s resolute eyes and her advice. Orihime could heal people not just through her powers, but her warm words and kind presence.

She stepped closer towards the kitchen to go use the bathroom but stopped when she heard Orihime on the phone.

“Yes, Momo-chan arrived safely! We stayed up talking and she’s going to bed now.” Momo could see Orihime slightly blush and tuck her chin in and play with her hair as the girl listened to the other side. She put the wash cloth down “Have a good night Kurosaki-kun! I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” There was a slight pause and the girl turned slightly more red. “I love you too.” Momo smiled as she watched Orihime hold the phone close to herself, spinning from side to side before throwing the washcloth aside and leaning against the fridge with a squeal.

Momo gently closed the door to the kitchen and moved towards the living room window, careful not to make a sound as to not alert the amber-haired girl she was listening. It was such an intimate moment and it made Momo happy to know a more personal side of the famous substitute soul reaper. Though she hadn’t met him formally, from seeing the two of them interact she could tell that the boy was a special person to Orihime. Rangiku had once told her that people in love look more beautiful and she could truly attest to that.

Her thoughts swayed back to her childhood friend. Though Momo hadn’t seen Toushiro that day, he had messaged her to give him a call when she arrived.

I texted him when I arrived…but I want to also talk to him.

Before she knew it, Momo found herself pressing the call button and listening to the ringing tone. They hadn’t spoken to each other before on the phone, so she felt a little nervous. But she couldn’t contain her excitement also at the prospect of hearing his voice, especially at the thought of them having a conversation alone.

“Hello?”

“Hitsugaya-kun!” Momo yelped. She didn’t expect him to pick up so quickly.

“Why are you surprised? You’re the one that called me.” Even though she couldn’t see him, she could hear the slight eye roll in his tone. His voice sounded gruff, like he just woken up.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t realize you would pick up right away. Were you sleeping?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, and Momo instantly felt guilty. “But I told you to call me when you reached. I know your departure was delayed so you were traveling at night.”

At the thought of him waiting for her call, Momo could feel her heart beat a little faster—though she’d blame it on the summer heat.

She cleared her throat. “It was a late arrival, so I felt bad to keep Orihime-chan up. But she was so sweet, she cooked dinner for me, started a bath for me and stayed up until I was settled in.” She twirled a finger through her damp hair as she looked out at the crescent moon. “It’s really peaceful here.”

“Were you able to eat the food alright?” She could hear a bit of worry in his tone.

Momo laughed. “Orihime-chan explained to me that ever since she started dating Kurosaki-kun she’s had to limit herself to strict following recipes since he had to go to the hospital once.”

There was a low laugh over the phone. “I could imagine that. It seems like Matsumoto is the only that can stomach Inoue-san’s cooking.”

“But yes, it was delicious! I hadn’t eaten someone else’s cooking in a while, so it made me feel really warm inside,” Momo confessed. “I’m really excited to get to know Orihime-chan more.”

“Are you excited to start your training tomorrow?”

Momo nodded her head vigorously. “Yes! Orihime told me she’s trained with Hachi-san before and that it was really helpful! Hirako-taicho already prepped me a bit about what to expect, but I still feel a little nervous because I’ll be focusing on high level kido—and I haven’t done that in a long time.”

She could hear some noise over the phone that sounded like Toushiro was moving to sit up. “You shouldn’t be nervous. You’re more than ready.”

And she understood that—in principle. While at the academy, she loved reading the incantations and discussing with her professors of possible combinations. But it had been so long since the Quincy War and there hadn’t been a moment for her to push herself yet. Will she remember the incantations correctly? Should she have brought her books with her—

“Stop that.”

Momo paused. “Stop what?”

He scoffed. “I can hear all your overthinking over the phone.”

She spluttered quick protests to which he replied, “You’ll be fine, Hinamori. There is no one more capable than you.”

Momo said nothing as she traced the frame of the window with her finger, taking in his words. “You really think so?” she asked softly.

“I know so,” he responded immediately.

She instantly felt a wave of relief wash over her. Whatever little anxiety that was in the pit of her stomach dissipated like a breath of fresh air from the cool night. She always felt so relieved when Toushiro comforted her.

“Oh! Also Hitsugaya-kun—”

“Hitsugaya-taicho.”

“Hitsugaya-taicho,” Momo amended with a roll of her eyes. “I actually forgot in all my haste to pack sleeping clothes.” She laughed sheepishly. “Orihime-chan is in the midst of packing her apartment to move somewhere else but she actually had some of your clothes from when you and Rangiku-san stayed over…”

“And? She gave you Matsumoto’s clothes?” She could hear the slight confusion in his tone.

“Um, no…she gave me your old shirt,” Momo admitted softly.

There was a pause on the line, and she wondered if he had fallen asleep.

“You’re wearing my shirt?” Maybe it was the sleep, but Momo thought she could hear a slight waver in his voice.

“Yeah…” Momo blushed and look down at it. “It’s a bit short for me—when I lift my arms my whole midrift is exposed,” she laughed. “And it ends above my elbows. Also, I wouldn’t expect you to own something so...”, she fingered the hanging chain at the base of her collarbone, “…edgy.”

“Matsumoto had ordered those clothes—I didn’t pick them out.”

Momo giggled. “That makes sense—it wouldn’t have been the first thing I expected you to wear.”

“If it doesn’t fit you should wear something else,” he retorted.

“No, no! I love wearing it!” she defended quickly. “It reminds me of you…” It even smells like you, she thought but that felt too honest even for this late night of a call.

“…if you wanted something of mine, I could have given you something that fits.” Even though she could hear the sleep in his voice, she couldn’t stop the furious blush that appeared on her face.

Momo could feel herself becoming nervous and the need to diffuse whatever sparks were happening in between. Maybe it was the feeling of stepping out from a hot bath on a cool summer night. Or the solace of the white moon hanging above. But it seemed that both of them were revealing things usually left unsaid.

“It reminds me of how much you’ve grown. I kind of miss my short Shiro-chan,” Momo said playfully.

“Well, I’m no longer that short,” he said dryly. “Almost taller than you, now. You’ll have to get used to it.”

“You’re right,” she said softly.

It was quiet except for the low murmur of breathing on either side. Though no words were said, it felt comfortable. She could hear him turn around on his futon.

Momo thought back to Orihime calling Ichigo and how her smile was so bright. And though she couldn’t see Ichigo on the other side, she could imagine that he was just as happy to talk to them. She wondered how Toushiro felt on the other side of the phone.

“Is that all? I have to be up in a couple hours for morning training.”

“I’m so sorry Hitsugaya-kun!” She looked at the clock and instantly felt remorsefully for not considering the time-difference.

“Don’t worry about it, Hinamori. I wanted you to call.”

“I just called to say…”—how much I want to see you, how much I care —“…I’m excited to come back and tell you everything.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be excited to leave yet, Hinamori. Enjoy your training.”

Momo felt like her heart was hanging on a precipice at the thought of her next question. “Then…can I call you again while I’m here?”

A pause so long she felt like her heartbeat could be heard over the phone. Momo worried if she had stepped too far. This summer night had made her much bolder than before. She half expected him to scoff at her and remind her to focus on her own work. But there was hope that she wanted to continue these calls and tell him more.

“Of course you can.”

Momo beamed. “Wonderful! I’ll call you soon again! And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call you earlier, so I don’t disturb your sleep.”

She could hear him chuckle on the other side. “Go get some sleep now, Hinamori.”

Even after putting the phone down, Momo couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out. She fell back on the futon, clutching the phone to her fast-beating heart.

There was something new about the phone call. She felt it and she had a feeling that somehow, Toushiro felt it too. A kind of intensity she wasn’t used to but was looking forward to in future conversations.

Momo wondered; how many things were left unsaid between them?

—

Authour’s Note: I really hope you enjoyed this!

I have always always loved the conversation between Rangiku and Orihime during the Advance Team Arc. I think it can get dismissed as fanservice, which I won’t deny, but I really loved the keen perception of Rangiku to sense Orihime’s  insecurities and then give her big sisterly advice! I’m also such a fan of writing Momo with other female characters so I really wanted that sort of moment with her and Orihime (who I also believe is highly emotionally intelligent when it comes to other people’s emotions).

This is my first time writing Orihime so I was really nervous! (and also why it took so long to write this). but after watching clips of her and reading other orihime fan interpretations of her, i really found myself falling for her and her beautiful emotional strength. I also really wanted to showcase her relationship with Ichigo as a young high school sweetheart way and hope that came across :) I think I still need to get a hang of her dialogue but I would love to write more of her in the future!

Also, I am such a sucker for phone conversations! I think they’re such a beautiful concept to focus so much on someone’s voice and hang onto everything the other person says without really knowing how their face looks as they talk. There’s really such an intimacy with it that’s hard to replicate. The phone call between Momo and Toushiro was actually the first part of the fic that was written because it came the easiest to me :)

I started writing this fic in the summer when I was physically and mentally in a different part of the world, so I have fond memories of listening to Late Night Talking during the short nights and writing this after the long summer days. I think this is my favourite fic of the year because it contains a lot of memories of changes to where I am currently and I put a lot of love in Momo and Orihime’s interactions:) I truly hope you enjoyed it :)

[tinaillustrations]

Hi HitsuHina folks !

Dropping this shortcomic for Hitsuhina gift exhange . It’s a scene from the fanfic called Under The Snowfall by @rays-of-fire-and-ice​ . It gives me so much feels UwU  (つ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ  

More on my IG and Twitter  ;)

[hitsuhina-week]

Thank you to everyone who participated in this year's Hitsuhina Week!

A special thank you goes to @rainfestive for allowing me to use her beautiful fanart for the blog's new icon.

Below you'll find all the submissions for the week, including the fanart, fanfic, and answers to the daily questions. However, I know a few of you are still hoping to contribute to the week, and if you're still able to and interested, don't hesitate to post your submissions! I'll be sure to reblog them here and add them to the list below when you do :D

Finally, keep an eye out for events happening in October (to celebrate the anime's return) and in December ( a gift exchange). I hope to see you all at both events, but until then, take a moment to check out these submissions:

Day 1 - First Snow / Garment

Wedding Day by @rainfestive

You are the Snow by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Answers for day 1 question:

rainfestive

canariie

ailouroshyun

Day 2 - Comfort / What If?

Summer Concert by @rainfestive

What if we sat under the cherry blossoms? by @xxhanabifireworksxx

Answers for day 2 question:

rainfestive

rays-of-fire-and-ice

canariie

Day 3 - Summer Rain / Flying

Petrichor by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Aku Ingin (I Want To) [poem by Sapardi Djoko Damono] fanart by @rainfestive

Answers for day 3 question:

rainfestive

saalvasam

ailouroshyun

canariie

Day 4 - Inspired by a Song / Something Sweet

For the First Time Again by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Answers for day 4 question:

rainfestive

Day 5 - Morning Routine / Things Left Unsaid

Day 6 - For you I can / Domestic

Answers for day 6 question:

rays-of-fire-and-ice

canariie

rainfestive

Day 7 - Return / Confessions

Answers for day 7 question:

rays-of-fire-and-ice

rainfestive

[visionen-im-spiegel]

a cacophony in stillness pt.3

pairing: Hitsugaya/Hinamori

notes: part 1 // part 2

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Hinamori walked through the rubble, dust setting in from the explosion that had shaken their surroundings. They all felt it. The victory, shuddering through their bodies with the power of the giants that had clashed away from them. And now that it was over, all she could feel was exhaustion. Sword sheathed again she stumbled, barely feeling the pain as she got up again.

They had won, she thought idly. Did that justify all the blood and the dying, the injured down below she knew would not make it to the next morning? Make it to see the new beginning Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends had carved for them? Would Soul Society remember ten years, a thousand years, ten-thousand years down the line? 

She glanced around, hoping to see a familiar figure. Panic started rising up in her. There was no sight of him, and yet she could swear she had sensed him here before, right after his own battle had finished. He had been injured, but had come out victorious.

No, fate could not be this cruel. No, this was supposed to be a new beginning. She swallowed down her own pain and fear and kept moving. She knew they would come to get them soon, but she wanted to be the one to find him, before anyone else. She needed to be the one to find him. She always could before. 

It was not for a vice-captain to leave her captain behind. But Captain Hirako had quite straightforwardly told her to get moving and help those in need, motioning with his head and a half-smile on his face in the direction to go. She bowed quickly and turned around. Before she departed, he called out to her and told her she was a good lieutenant. The words she engraved them in her heart, away from any other memory they could awaken in her. They were given a new beginning. Leave all the ghosts behind.

Her unsteady steps had taken her towards a big clearing amid the destruction. He could not be too far from here. Was she sure of this? Doubt started creeping on her. Would he even want her to find him? But still, she kept going.

And there he was. Sitting on the ground, back against the wall. He was still in the adult form that had left her speechless hours ago, his head hanging down barely supported by his left hand. His right hand was bloody and still covered in ice, hanging limply on his side, sword on the ground beside him. He was bruised, his jacket in shreds, clinging to his body. He had noticed her coming, for he was conscious and his eyes were bright, piercing through her from under his bangs.

She could not tell what he was thinking as he simply observed her coming towards him. She tripped as she almost reached him, quickly picking herself up. He lifted his head to her. The face of an adult was looking at her and in that moment, he somehow looked more like himself than he ever had. His eyes burned with an emotion that made her shiver for a second before they turned tired, listless and he leaned back, exhausted.

Hinamori hesitated a moment before she let herself drop down, right between his knees. He didn’t look as injured as she feared he would be, the image of his slashed body from ages ago what she had been secretly fearing. Trembling with relief she slowly reached to him, while he watched her, still. She sucked in a shaky breath as she touched him, expecting freezing cold but instead meeting warm skin. He was now lightly shaking too. She lifted her eyes to his face once again, that emotion from before back in his eyes, before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He tensed, shock and confusion racing through him before he reached up and wrapped his own arms around her, gripping her robe after he felt the first silent sobs coming from her mouth. Her arms tightened around him and he dropped his head lightly on hers, breathing her in. 

“It’s over.”

“Hinamori...”

“It’s over.” she raised her head, looking at him, a smile through her tears, “and we will live.”

They were alive. They would keep on going. For now, that was enough.