#Daruma 2023 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

canariie · 1 year ago

Text

something blue

Rating: K+

Synopsis: “How are you feeling, Hinamori?” he asked.

“I’m doing well! I’m enjoying the party!” she said cheerily, but even to her ears it felt a bit forced. She sighed and took another sip, avoiding her captain’s watchful eyes.

…

Amidst the dancing and drinks, Momo doesn't realize how overwhelmed she feels on Renjii's wedding day.

Word Count: 5590 words

Setting: the RenRuki wedding during We Do KNOT Love You!

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week Celebration 2023 Day 7 - Future

Authour’s Note: Welcome to my pasta-salad of a fic! Partly because I think I tried to put so much into this, culminating in my longest fic on tumblr and usurping i just called to say's position!

This is also RenRuki adjacent, so proceed how you would with that.

Similar to that fic, this is also INCREDIBLY LATE and I apologize for that! It also has several music inspirations going from Enchanted (Taylor's Version) & Back to December (Taylor's Version) to the tone of Billie Eilish's What was I Made For & my future—and I think that shows hahahaha

I hope you all enjoy it!

—

Momo was excited for the nijikai, the less formal wedding after party, because that’s where the night truly began.

Renjii had picked Daruma Bar, a familiar haunt of his that the lieutenants had visited many times after late meetings, long work weeks and happy hour celebrations. And maybe it was the romantic in Momo, but she was delighted that they were celebrating a new chapter for her friend in a place that was cemented in such fond memories.

The Bar’s decorations were less ostentatious than the engagement party and the Kuchiki ceremonial shrine. However, it warmed Momo’s heart to see Kuchiki-taicho act so openly benevolent towards his younger sister—something unusual for the typically aloof man.

There was a room at the back of the bar off the side kitchen, dedicated for the respective parties to get ready. It had doubled as storage and a changing space for the servers, leaving it cramped with boxes and a folding screen. To call it a room was generous but the larger formal one was rightfully reserved for Rukia to get ready. Momo had joined in on the groom’s side because she was much closer to Renjii—and, because she hadn’t gotten the chance to spend time alone with him.

“How do you feel, Abarai-kun?” Momo had asked as she took the groom’s outer robe from him, carefully folding it away. The garment had been a gift from Kuchiki-taicho who had it embellished with the Sixth Division symbol. Izuru and Ikkaku had gone with the human, Kurosaki, to look for the final additions to Renjii’s next outfit for the night, leaving Momo alone to help the groom get ready.

“I don’t know…normal—but not?” the tall man shrugged. “I’m not used to all this pomp and circumstance—especially everyone looking at me.”

Momo laughed as she handed Renjii the black suit bag—a custom tailoring from the Quincy boy. “It’s your day Abarai-kun, everyone should be looking at you!”

His cheeks turned bright red, rivaling his hair. “I’ve had enough of it for a while.” Renjii moved behind the screen, and Momo turned her back around to give him further privacy as he removed the other layers. (Days spent in the Shinigami Academy had broken through any semblance of modesty when they had to quickly change between fitness courses and studies along with their overnight camps).

“How are you, Hinamori-kun?”

“Me?” Momo looked down at her hands as she played with the strings of her purse, fiddling with the knotted ends.

“No, the other girl in the room,” he scoffed loudly.

She rolled her eyes and threw a tie over her shoulder and screen, smiling in delight when she heard him yelp.

“You were pretty emotional at the engagement party—and now at the ceremony…I just wasn’t expecting you to cry so much.”

Momo smiled to herself— she had definitely cried her fair share of tears the last couple of days. But she’d shed them all again because they were happy tears. And she knows she wasn’t the only one to be overwhelmed by such a beautiful moment; for even the human girl, Orihime, had started crying so much so when Rukia walked down the aisle, the human couldn’t hold her camera straight. During the ceremony, Momo had sat with Rangiku and the other lieutenants, and was bawling as soon as she saw Renjii have his first glance at Rukia.

“I’m just so…happy for you,” Momo sniffled feeling an onslaught of tears come on. “Is that such a bad thing?” she asked as she could hear him chuckle behind the screen.

She couldn’t help it. Momo loved love and she loved that her dear friend had finally found his.

Momo remembered in the Academy, how Renjii has first come out as rough around the edges. It had been the first time she had met someone from one of the lower districts, and she didn’t quite know what to make of him—except that his eyebrows were quite strange.

But any reservations she may have initially had melted away when she saw his sincere heart and what a dedicated friend he was. From walking her back to her dorm after late night studying sessions to dropping off sweets before her advanced kido exam to sticking by her side when they were prematurely attacked by the hollow—Momo dearly wished that Renjii believed in himself like how he believed in his friends.

“How do I look?”

Momo turned around, and gasped. The taller man had left his hair loose, hanging long down his shoulders—making him look older and more debonair. And though the black formal suit was atypical garb for him, he somehow brought it all together with his usual black bandana. He looked good.

Renjii tugged at his collar, wincing in discomfort. “Is it too stuck up?”

The young girl shook her head and walked closer, taking the tie into her hands. “Abarai-kun, you are going to break a lot of hearts tonight.” She winked. “It’s a good thing you’re a married man.”

“You sound like Matsumoto—or Hisagi after a couple of drinks,” he chuckled in disbelief. “But you really think so? I don’t look out of place?” He joked casually, but Momo could detect something deeper.

“Abarai-kun,” she tightened the knot and looked up at him. “Do you feel like you don’t belong?”

He shrugged his shoulders so much that the ruby tie slipped out of her fingers. “It just feels like a lot—the ceremony, the wedding party. We knew we wanted to be together, but I didn’t expect it would become such a big event,” Renjii looked away to the side. “It’s all out of my comfort zone,” he confessed, twisting the ring on his finger.

She looked at him sympathetically. “I know you two have gone through a lot, Abarai-kun,” Momo reasoned softly, putting her hand on his arm, having him look down at her. “But I can say with absolute confidence that the two of you are the strongest and happiest when you two are together. This party—it just became something for everyone else to put their energy into having fun for one night.”

Momo smiled wholeheartedly. “And honestly I’m sure for Rukia-san, she doesn’t care for all these extravagances—she’d marry you even with paper rings.” She reached up to straighten out the wrinkles on his shoulder. “Again—I’m so happy for you.”

Renjii smiled and ruffled her hair, much to her protests. “Thanks, Hinamori-kun.” The taller man paused, like he was trying to uncover something on her face, but before Momo could ask, Ikkaku came barreling in with the human boy Kurosaki and Kira following suit.

“We found the corsage!” Ikkaku boomed, holding it up in victory.

“Byakuya had it expedited shipped from some out-there province—but wasn’t clear about which import hub it was located in,” the human boy said as he rolled his eyes.

...

Daruma Bar had transformed from the quaint backyard bar they knew into a bustling reception area. Tealights strung from the trees, hanging over a generous dance floor, already teeming with well-dressed officers. There were Kuchiki mansion staff seen around serving cocktail drinks while Hisagi was manning the DJ booth (a custom export from the human world), with an overeager Omaeda directing the spotlight.

Momo found herself ushered out onto the main floor, following the loud cheers of the groom party as the bridal party followed suit. Rukia was resplendent in a white cocktail dress, though she still wore her veil attached to the back of her head. There were tiny little strawberry flowers dotting the lining—which Rangiku had eagerly whispered into Momo’s ear during the ceremony that Orihime had personally embroidered as a gift.

It was only with the deafening cheer when the young couple satisfied the crowd with a kiss that the party truly started.

A dusk had descended on the day, with candles illuminating the tables and basking everyone in red orange hues. Momo could see many of her lieutenants around the tables, chatting and mingling, along with lower seated officers who were clinking glasses of beer together. There was a relaxed air, and she felt immediately at ease to see everyone unwind.

Hisagi had blasted the music loudly, and only for the fact that it was an official Gotei Thirteen event (and that Kyoraku-soutaicho was enjoying a round of shots himself), Momo was sure they would have violated some noise pollution ordinances. But when Renjii pulled her onto the dance floor as a line dance came on, she couldn’t help herself but laugh out loud and try to follow along.

And Momo danced. In the group dances when the crowd swarmed to the floor, she jumped from side to side. When the music slowed to heartfelt ballads, she clutched onto Nanao’s shoulders, singing with her whole heart out.

During the brief moments of respite when she was taking a break with a drink in hand, she found her eyes drifting to the human group on the side.

The war had been long over, but there was still a wide berth around the Quincy boy, Uryuu, who stood off to the side chatting with the other tall human. Momo could see Orihime run over to them, trying to liven up the conversation and eagerly pointing to her plate of food. And in between the loud beats of music, she found herself thinking how the war had left invisible scars on all of them.

The music shifted to softer, mellow music and Momo eagerly took that as a cue to head over to the chef’s table. There were several cooks who were preparing popular street food from the different districts of Rukongai, such as taiyaki, grilled corn and okonomiyaki pancakes—many of which she knew were Renjii’s favourites. There was still the presence of Kuchiki-taicho’s influence in the decoration, from the ornate ice sculptures, exquisite flower bouquets among finger sized hors d’oeuvres and a slow roasted pigling on the split.

Momo didn’t want to eat too much as she was keen to dance more without the heavy feeling of being full. So, she quickly took a bite of the taiyaki before walking over the newlywed couple who were in line with Kuchiki-taicho at the kabob stall.

Renjii gestured forward with his meat skewer, holding it by the Sixth Captain’s face. “You have to try this, Taicho! It’s an Inuzuri special!”

Rukia nodded her head eagerly, the excitement sparkling in her violent eyes. “They marinate the meat with plums to help sweeten it.”

Momo had to laugh at the look at the sixth divison’s captain’s face—the only indication of displeasure was the slight downturn of his lips. He slowly took the skewer, inspecting it on all sides before lifting it up and taking the smallest bite Momo had ever seen. He chewed slowly, maintaining contact with the eager eyes of the bride & groom, before swallowing.

“It is…appropriate,” he sufficed, before dabbing his lips with a napkin.

...

The party continued in beat again, with no clear sign of stopping. Hisagi’s position of DJ had been usurped by one of the Shiba men, eager to grab the mic and direct the audience in line dances. After the ninth lieutenant had realized what happened, it was a loud battle where the music changed pace and tempo to their scramble, confusing the audience in between switching from easy going sways and fast jigs. The fight immediately ceased and desisted when the older Shiba came on stage and hit the two men both, stopping the bickering without any question. It was only when the music slowed to a soft classical tune, did Momo decide it was time to sit out for a bit after another long stint on the dance floor.

She walked up to her captain, who was leaning casually against one of the high tables, observing the party with his eyes straying down to his phone every so often. Though he looked relaxed, Momo knew him well enough to know that he was eagerly waiting for the vizards from the Human World to join—specifically a short blond woman.

A server walked by, and Momo quickly took a drink, shooting a generous smile at the staff in thanks.

“Go easy on the drinks,” Hirako mused with a smile tugging on his lips, “We still have work tomorrow.”

Her captain had eagerly taken the opportunity to dress in human clothes, wearing a dark pinstripe suit with silver tie. Momo had never seen him before so excited to dress up and he had taken many trips to the Human World to find the right outfit.

“Taicho, the suit looks quite good on you!” she remarked, leaning against the table with a champagne glass in her hands. Now that she had stopped dancing, she didn’t quite realize how much her feet were hurting. She sighed, inhaling the dusky air that was sweet and heavy with candle smoke.

“You also look good,” her captain remarked, holding his glass up in a cheers motion. “Matsumoto had fun with the makeup?”

Momo smiled in agreement as she played with her flower hair ornament. “She did a fantastic job!”

The two lieutenants had eagerly gone through the stores looking for appropriate kimonos to wear. And even though the older woman had more stamina than Momo in that respect, she enjoyed the shopping spree; especially when she finally settled on a light pink print with white printed flowers. Rangiku had helped her dress up and made sure to spend extra time on the younger girl’s makeup and hair before getting ready herself.

When Momo finally saw the look, light pink blush and soft red lips, she couldn’t stop staring at herself which filled her with greater anticipation for tonight.

“How are you feeling, Hinamori?” he asked.

“I’m doing well! I’m enjoying the party!” she said cheerily, but even to her ears it felt a bit forced. She sighed and took another sip, avoiding her captain’s watchful eyes.

Hirako took a long swig of his drink. “You’ve been crying a lot—I know you and Abarai are close friends…” he drifted off. “But is there nothing else going on?”

Momo swished the glass around, looking down. “I’m not sure,” she confessed. “I am happy for Abarai-kun—I truly am.”

The Fifth captain leveled her with a long stare. “Sometimes seeing other people happy can remind us of when we’re not,” he said simply.

Momo turned sharply towards him. “Do I seem unhappy?” she asked softly.

Hirako shook his head and looked at the last of the crowd dancing. “Not to everyone–no. But I think those that care can tell when there’s something deeper.”

“Hina-chan! Hirako-taicho!”

The two Fifth Squad guards looked towards Rangiku who was walking towards them with a skip in her step, dressed in a beautiful vibrant violet kimono with peony flowers. In the low light, her blue eyes were twinkling, and the red candle flames highlighted her wavy golden hair.

Following behind slowly was the tenth division captain, dressed in a simple dark grey kimono. While others had gone for extravagance or taken the opportunity to dress up, the simplicity of his outfit made the young boy stand out in the crowd. His turquoise eyes seemed brighter, and his white hair shined amongst all the candle lights. Momo could feel her heart race up (but she blamed it on the lightheaded feeling from the drinks).

“Hinamori-chan, you dance so well,” Rangiku remarked as she plucked a champagne glass from a passing server. She shot a flirtatious smile at the server, who scrambled away flustered, their cheeks a bright red. “I don’t think I’ve seen you take a break all night.”

“I’ve been having a lot of fun,” she laughed, moving forward and almost toppling over if it hadn’t been for her captain and Rangiku who grabbed a hold of her arms. “I’ll say,” Rangiku laughed. She turned behind her, beckoning her hand forward. “Taicho, take a photo of us!”

Momo looked to the young captain who looked like he was frozen in motion, with hands slightly reached out. They fell lamely to the side. He recomposed himself and sent a glare towards his lieutenant—but complied, holding up the camera in front of him.

The lighthearted smile Momo had tried to put on all evening felt strained and she could only hope it didn’t show as the flash went off.

“The Kuchiki’s really know how to throw a party,” Rangiku observed demurely, “they should do it more often.” She flipped her long hair as she scanned the crowd. “I think they’re going to be turning off the music soon.” The older woman turned to look at Momo with a devious smile. “Hina-chan—you should dance with Taicho.”

Her heart rate immediately jumped, and she found herself frantically waving her hands in front of her. “Oh no,” Momo looked back for support but found herself being pushed forward by her captain, who was sporting a smug smile. “C’mon, it’ll be good for you,” he said with a final nudge.

A similar look was mirrored over with Rangiku who was pushing a protesting Toushiro towards the middle of the dance floor, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Taicho, hasn’t stepped on the dance floor at all tonight!” She agilely grabbed the camera out of his hands.

“Matsumoto!” Toushiro turned to yell at his vice-captain who quickly made herself scarce from the scene. He turned slowly to look at Momo as dancers passed by around them.

He cleared his throat. “Hinamori, we don’t have to do this.”

She could only mutely nod her head shortly, as she realized that this was the first time, they had spoken outside of work to each other after the recovery period.

The crowd continued to move around the two of them undeterred. Swaths of maroon, blue, purple flashed around her, but she could only look down at her feet. The music slowed down in pace, and a loud cheering occurred across the floor, with Renjii and Rukia making it onto the floor before holding onto each other like they had all the time in the world—which made Momo’s heart clench.

Momo could hear Toushiro sigh softly before she saw two feet approach her.

She turned to look up and he was too close, much too close. She forgot to breathe as she looked up and counted the flecks of sapphire in his eyes.

“Can I,” he asked softly, a sense of trepidation in his voice.

She jerked her head down and felt her heart rate quicken as he took her hands in his—which were several degrees colder than hers but grounded her in a reality that too many earlier drinks had lifted her from.

“Just humour them for one song…” he whispered.

It was an awkward start with Toushiro guiding Momo’s hand to his shoulder before moving behind to hold her shoulder blade. She had to swallow a gasp as she could feel the cold move dangerously close to the scar in her back, making her breath quicken.

And she didn’t know if it was cruel fate or not, but the music had slowed done to a pace that only in twos could one traverse. Out of the corner in her eyes, she saw her subordinates holding onto each other, with easy-going smiles as they swayed in comfort.

Momo stared straight at the side of his neck, trying to avoid all eye contact as they moved from one side to the other. She was too aware of his white hair tickling her cheek and the cool exhale of his breath on her collarbone.

This was too close too close. It was the closest they had been to each other in five years.

They had spent three years after the Quincy War dancing around the divide between them. Prior to that, Momo could only focus on her personal recovery after the Winter War as well as adjusting to her new captain. Toushiro had always seemed to be there on the periphery, flitting in and out of her consciousness.

He had apologized to her for what happened in the Fake Karakura town. She had profusely apologized in retaliation — no it wasn’t his fault, she shouldn’t have been there, she hardly remembered it, they were all foolishly tricked. (But that doesn’t stop the cold tremors she feels whenever she sees Hyourinmaru).

The young boy had stood there, silent and listening, but Momo could see the winter storm in his eyes, obscuring the shame that he had still felt whenever he got a glimpse of her scar through the Fourth Division robes. She had clutched the fabric tighter to her heart, where ice had barely missed, unable to meet his gaze. Even though she set the fissures off first, it was his sword that had swung the final blow in the demise of their crumbling relationship.

And she knows that he knows she feels that way because he had stepped aside, adamantly training in isolation to be stronger (at least according to her usual queries to Rangiku). And what could she do, except also turn around and try to move forward as a lieutenant of the Gotei 13.

For as much as she hated to admit it, they were not the same as before. Now they were just small talk and shallow inquiries about the weather, during the brief exchanges between captain and lieutenant meetings.

Momo wishes with all her heart that they could go back to who they were; where she could rush to him on the good days, a whole plate of watermelon in between them and see his eyes light up in excitement; or seek him out in the bad days when she desperately wanted to her hear his calm and rational reasoning, that soothed her like a cool breeze in the summer.

“How are you, Hinamori?”

Momo startled, looking to the right at him, but any closer and her lips would be on his neck.

“I’m good,” she responded quickly, inwardly grimacing at how high her voice sounded. “Hirako-taicho and I were excited to finish work two hours earlier so we could get ready. I had made sure we had finished all our reports for the day for approval, but it was nice to have an official announcement that work could be done earlier,” she rambled.

Toushiro raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t quite believe her.

“Isn’t Hirako supposed to be one that handed those in?”

“Hirako-taicho,” Momo corrected, “He had done it the previous time but since I was meeting Rangiku-san and Nanao-san to get ready, we thought it best that I hand in the reports since it was on the way to the First Division.”

He hummed in agreement, before it became silent again. They turned around to avoid another couple who had swept a little too close. Momo found herself looking for Rukia and Renjii to distract herself from the awkwardness. The two were glued to each other, with Rukia staring up at her husband, the adoration evident in her eyes. She stood on her toes to which Renjii responded by lifting her higher. The young woman whispered something in his ear to which the red-haired man looked at her with wide surprised eyes before spinning her around as she laughed.

The two of them were out of step with the song but perfectly attuned to each other.

Momo’s heart ached and a heavy weight settled in the pit of her stomach.

She looked down at the corner of his neck and shoulder. “Are you enjoying the wedding?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been designated to photograph duty.”

“At least you’re part of the moments?” she tried to salvage.

“Not really,” the boy scoffed.

There was an awkward turn and Momo turned too quickly, tripping over her feet and bumped her chin into his shoulder. She mumbled an apology, not before she got an inhale of his scent which sent her mind into scrambles.

Momo pulled back to face him. “Did I hurt you?”

His emerald eyes went wide. A pause. The boy took a deep breath and leveled her with an intense gaze. “You could never hurt me, Hinamori.”

She stopped moving with Toushiro following suit. Everyone continued around spinning and laughing, while the music went up in crescendo.

“That’s not true at all…” Momo said distantly, shaking her head.

A loud bang startled her into moving closer to him, and she could feel him tighten his hold on her. Loud bursts of fireworks went off above them and the sky illuminated with bright vibrant streaks of colour.

All of a sudden, Momo noticed people looking at her with hopeful smiles and knowing looks, which made her chest tighten. And the cold on her back and her hand slowly felt like a vice that she couldn’t get out quickly enough.

“I’m sorry, Hitsugaya-taicho I have to leave,” Momo sputtered out right as the final note dropped, before running off the floor. Fireworks continued to crackle as she pushed past the dancing bodies, desperate to get as far away as she could. All the excitement that had made her feel before like she was floating on a cloud disappeared, leaving her with deep intense dread inside.

A hand reached out and grabbed her arm, and she was pulled off the dance floor. Momo startled as Ikkaku thrust a shot glass into her face.

“C’mon, Hinamori—it’s the last shots of the night!”

The groom’s party had gathered around, with several bottles already empty in between them all. Kira looked completely out of it, stumbling forward, and clutching onto Renjii with a dazed look in his eyes. The human boy wasn’t too far behind, his face mirroring the fruit he was named after. Ikkaku still seemed bright and alert as he poured the alcohol into her glass.

“Hinamori, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Renjii reasoned, trying to push off Kira so he could come towards her. She recognized that look of concern, it was his big brother mode when he saw she was teetering on the edge of anxiety.

Momo, determined not to make a bigger fool of herself and ruin her friend’s special day, took the shot lifted out towards her.

“To the Abarai’s!”

And she threw back the drinks, the liquid burning down her throat. The rest of the guys hollered loudly, rivaling the sound of the fireworks. And they didn’t stop there, continuing to chase one drink after the other until Momo’s head pounded like the fireworks.

In front of Daruma Bar there was a large pond and several benches for guests to sober up on. Amid the final throws of excitement, Momo had hobbled alone out of the bar before throwing up in the bushes by the water. And even through the motions, she found herself thinking—that in no way was she getting her kimono stained—and that she was grateful there was no one to witness this embarrassment.

A cool cloth appeared in the peripheral of her vision, and she was too tired to not accept it.

“How much did you eat today?” Toushiro asked sternly as he hovered over her. She startled belatedly and threw a fatigued look over her shoulder.

“Not enough,” Momo heaved. When she was finally done coughing, she collapsed on the bench in exhaustion—feeling spent and drained.

The tenth captain stood a distance, in that quiet way Momo knew he reserved for battle, figuring out his first move.

Momo wiped her forehead and her mouth, looking down at the lipstick smears on the cloth. She sniffled, feeling despondent.

The war was over. They had fought, had shed blood, had lost men—but they had won. And though it was a quiet victory, with reconstruction looming as a herculean hill to climb, they all pressed on. People were having fun, becoming stronger, moving on. This party was just one moment of many future beginnings, a dynamic turn of high energy and excitement for what was ahead— and yet, Momo still felt caught in the past somehow.

Momo knew in the deepest of her hearts, that Renjii deserved this night. She had remembered it all too well, the pain on his face when Rukia had entered the Kuchiki household, leaving him at the Academy broken-hearted. He had fought tooth and nail and truly defied the odds when no one had believed him.

But, now sitting in the aftermath of the party, Momo was hit with the sobering thought that she was pitifully jealous of Renjii. Jealous that he had a new future to look forward to with someone he cared deeply for. Momo was nowhere near where he was, hell—she wasn’t even on proper speaking terms with one of her oldest friends.

Momo sobbed, furiously rubbing her eyes with her kimono sleeves. “Do…do you think—we’ll ever be like that?”

Toushiro sighed, knowing that Momo’s tolerance how gone past reason.

“We never stopped being friends, Hinamori.”

“But we don’t talk anymore,” she wailed tearfully, feeling fresh tears come down her face. It was bothering her now how sticky her cheeks were becoming, considering the amount of time Rangiku had spent on her makeup—which made her feel even more pitiful. “Do you hate me, Hitsugaya-kun?”

He stood there uncomfortably, as if trying to find the right words. “Hinamori I never…hated you.” Toushiro let out a long exhale as he sat on the far end of the bench. “I just wanted to give you space.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t know what we are,” she bemoaned, gesturing her hands in between them. “But I do know,” Momo sniffled loudly. “we’re not the same as before.”

“No…no we’re not,” Toushiro said simply, looking at the moon’s reflection in the water. Momo could see that even though his hair seemed bright like the white light, there was a dullness in his eyes.

“I thought training would be the solution, to get stronger and let you be on your own.” He kicked a loose pebble into the pond. “But that wasn’t the only right answer.”

Toushiro turned to her, and solemnly said, “You didn’t deserve that.”

Momo hiccupped and looked up at him with teary eyes. “…You’re not mad at me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head in confusion. “Why would you blame yourself for everything?”

“Well, I started this all—this rift,” Momo drew a line in between them, tracing her finger on the stone bench. She looked up at him with doleful eyes. “I’m sorry, Shiro-chan—for all of it. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough.”

The boy looked down at the space in between them pensively. It was like she could see the gears turn in his mind, slowly and methodically, to find the next right step.

“And for every apology you give...instead of pulling away,” Toushiro shifted himself over until he was halfway over the bench, looking up at her with determination in his eyes, “I’ll move closer.”

Her brown eyes widened, before she smiled in relief, scooting closer to him, until they were side by side. Momo grabbed his hand in her’s, holding them up high in between them. “And for every time you feel like you want to pull away, I won’t let you.”

Toushiro noted objectively. “I think we’ve come to a standstill.”

She laughed as she wiped the tears off her cheeks, “That the Hitsugaya-kun I miss. You always know exactly what to say.”

They stayed in silence, listening to the last sounds of the party as it wrapped up. Finally, Toushiro pushed himself off the bench and turned to the teary girl. “Come on, let’s go home.”

At the thought of getting up, Momo immediately deflated with the pent-up fatigue from the party. “My feet are killing me,” she whimpered, quickly trying to kick off her heeled shoes. The brown-haired girl stuck out her bottom lip in contemplation.

“Can you carry me, Hitsugaya-kun?” she asked quietly, as if she were afraid to shatter the moment.

The tenth captain raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to remember this in the morning?” he asked dubiously.

Momo whined, her voice raising in pitch. “C’mon—I used to do it all the time for you when you got hurt.”

Toushiro rolled his eyes, before turning around and bending down. There was a moment of awkward fumbling as Momo eagerly climbed onto his back. She clutched her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek down next to his as he stood up.

“You’re so strong Shiro-chan…” Momo pulled back a hand to smooth the wrinkles of his kimono. “Like obviously your shoulders are a lot wider now,” she observed. “But I didn’t know you were this strong.”

Momo yelped as he shifted her with a jolt, making her knock her chin on the back of his head. “That was mean, Shiro-chan,” she said though she could feel her heart racing as he chuckled. “That’s what you get for making comments like that,” he responded dryly, though she could hear the slight smile in his voice.

The girl tightened her arms around him again, swinging her feet back and forth. “You’re a lot funnier than people take you for, Shiro-chan.”

“It’s a secret I try not to share,” he responded to which Momo laughed out loud.

She snuggled closer into his back, relishing how secure she felt as he carried her away from the bar. “Shiro-chan…we’re friends again, right?” she mumbled softly.

Toushiro scoffed, feeling her doze into his shoulder. “Yeah…we’re friends.”

Momo fell asleep with a smile on her face, feeling more at ease than she had ever been before.

—

Author's Notes: You know the stressful thing about writing about a wedding party? It's almost like you're planning it!! Is there enough ice for the drinks? IS everyone dancing? What kind of music do they need? Who's going to be the wedding crasher? What are the decorations? How can I show that Byakuya has no chill and spares no expense in anyway he can? Where's the food??? IS EVERYONE HAVING FUN??

This was one of my first times writing Renjii and of course I have to do it during his wedding day but oh well. I would really love to write more about him and Momo's friendship together, and I thought it was a perfect place for Momo to compare herself in what she has and lacks since they both came from similar relationships to their childhood friends.

I think my trend has also to leave the Hitsuhina moments until the very end and then flourish the beginning immensely with self reflections and them talking to everyone BUT each other (which results in much longer fics)

#hitsuhina week 2023 #canariie: my fics #GEEZ THIS TOOK FOREVER #i'm so ready to post this and run lolol #momo hinamori #toushiro hitsugaya #i had some stuff planned for the celebrate bleach event but wedding planning got in the way #and when i say wedding planning i mean #how does renjii celebrate a wedding that byakuya is financing #that's what made this fic take so long #renruki #it's a bit renruki like in the distance???#i hope polyna will be proud haha i def have included it after reading her more of her fics #renjii abarai #rukia kuchiki #hitsuhina

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