#Hanataro Yamada

[helio-art]

☀️ Bleach fanart ☀️all characters here (except Komamura, Yachiru and Gin) have been suggested by @toxictaicho (thank you again😁)

[gallusrostromegalus]

Just wanted to say I’m enjoying all of the world building and snippets from AEIWAM - it’s clear how much fun you’re having and how much though you put into it. I’ve started rereading bleach because of that, though I always wind up stopping after the rescue rukia arc 😅. Maybe I’ll make it past that this time.

Eh, I gave up after My Blorbo was killed off in deeply narratively unsatisfying fashion, so you're not alone. Anyway, have some More AEIWAM Worldbulding Nonsense:

---

The Kuchiki-Yamada-11th Division Fucktangle

-

It started with Chigiri Shijima.

The first captain of the 4th Division, part of the original Dirty Dozen Yamamoto hired off of Death Row to fight the first Quincy Invasion, was an unassuming and chronically fatigued looking woman* with a profound sense of curiosity about the limits of The Flesh:

(from Kubo's sketches of the original 13) *Chigiri might be male in canon. I don't care

She became fast friends with the young Yachiru Unohana, who shared her fascination with the limits of the flesh, though from the opposite direction. Chigiri was the first person to show Unohana how to channel her Reiatsu to prefrom Kaido, and let her sit in on /Hold people's ribcages open during /do some of the surgical cuts for Chigiri's Field Surgery sessions, much to the horror of everyone else involved.

After the War, when the Captains had to shape up from a gang of mercenaries into a real governmental organization, Chigiri met and eventually married a Similarly-Sadistically-Curious young Dentist named Fumihiro Yamada. Longtime friend and frequent visitor to the hospital Unohana attended the 100-day ceremony of their first and subsequent six children, the start of a grand tradition- Unohana, under one name or another, has been present at the Okuizome of every Yamada born for the last millennium, and delivered most of them for the last 800-odd years.

The Yamadas are one of the most prolific Shinigami families, producing more Shinigami by percentage than any other clan, and have served in all divisions of the court Guard. Eighth Division Fifth Seat Suichi Yamada is the current highest ranked Yamada, but there have been four Captains Yamada. There's also a Seated Yamada in the third divison, and another in the 12th (though there's a popular rumor that 15th Seat Tosako Yamada isn't part of the 12th so much as a Spy to keep the 4th abreast of any important developments in medical science, rather than deal with Mayuri directly).

It is little wonder then that, despite the lack of noble standing, the Yamadas are one of the most highly regarded families in the Seireitei, and even less of a wonder that, every time the gene pool starts to get a little shallow, that the Noble Houses start looking at the latest generation for potential spouses.

The Kuchiki Clan in particular has intermarried heavily with the Yamadas, to the point that Byakuya Kuchiki is actually fourth-cousins to the infamous Former Fourth Division Lieutenant and Current Head of the Private Central Medical Institute in the Noble Quarter, Seinosuke Yamada:

(Description: A cool and handsome if somewhat menacing Wizard)

...and his less-famous younger brother, current 4th Division 7th seat Hanataro Yamada.

(Description: the most bully-able looking dweeb you've ever seen)

Due to the way the Kuchikis keep marrying daughters they won't legitimize for some goddamn reason to Yamada Sons, there's an argument to be made that the Kuchiki Clan is a Branch Clan of the Yamadas...

In fact, until Rukia was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan, if something had happened to Byakuya, Seinosuke was Byakuya's closest living relative in their generation and a reasonable argument could be made that he was the Hier-Apparent.

This, of course, would not do.

The thing is, Hanataro's shy and gentle demeanor is very unusual for a Yamada. The whole clan has a reputation for being Manic Sociopaths with dubious ethics and a tendency towards sadism. They make excellently competent officers, but not exactly 'friendly', like a terrible hybrid of a Border Collie and Cane Corso. Seinosuke himself is known to take great pleasure in bringing back patients that are actively begging for death.

There is a persistent rumor that this infamous disposition is at least partially due to the influence of Captain Unohana, who has been an active member of the Yamada household for the last millennium, presumably so they're very acclimated to her nonsense by the time she starts recruiting the prize ones for the 4th. She's delivered most of them and officiated the marriages of more than a few, and given the woman's patience in cultivating the Seireitei's Most Magnificent Flower and Vegetable Garden, it's suspected she's been cultivating the Yamada line as well.

Seinosuke was her lieutenant before the current Isane Koetetsu, and the bond between them was almost legendary. They would frequently not actually bother to finish sentences around each other, or communicate entirely by gesture because they were so familiar.

---

It was little wonder then, when Seinosuke's little brother also joined the 4th Division, though it wasn't exactly happily received news. People get jealous and see favoritism where there is none- Hanataro had entered the 4th on his own merits, and actually against his brother's recommendation.

Hanataro also had the strange fortune of entering the 4th the same week as the Tragic West 66 Incident in which several captains, lieutenants and nearly all of the 9th division's seated officers were killed by the machinations of (as was believed at the time) former captains Urahara, Shihouin and the head of the Kido Corps.

Three days after that, 11th Division Captain Kenpachi Kiganjo was struck down in a duel, and infamous barbarian Kenpachi Zaraki took over the 11th.

... So the day afterwards, when the lower officer in charge of assigning jobs to trainee medics saw that apparently this Zaraki bastard needed a complete medical checkup and every vaccine ever, he thought 'Well, let's see if Little Hanataro really did get in on his own merits. He's A Yamada after all, this should be a piece of cake for him-'

-and sent first-day-on-the-job Hanataro to the famously hostile 11th Division on his own.

---

"Um, Excuse me, Mister- I mean, Captain Zaraki?" Hanataro mumbled peering in the door of the captain's room at the nest of pillows and blankets that might contain his charge.

The 11th was deserted- not really a surprise, given the heavy casualties the 11th had suffered the week before. In fact, all 20 of the surviving members of the 11th were still recovering at the 4th, and Hanataro had wandered around looking for someone for a solid half hour until a little girl with neon pink hair had playfully tackled him to the ground and then, giggling, shown him to the Captain.

"KEEEEEEN-CHAAAAAAAN!!!" Miss Yachiru shouted, leaping into the nest and tackling her adopted guardian with similar glee. "Re-Chan sent one of her guys here for something!"

There was a low rattling noise of irritation that reminded Hanataro eerily of the family's temperamental rooster, but much, much larger. The nest of fabric shifted, arching up into an alarmingly tall shape, Yachiru balancing on top and scolding it for sleeping in so late, he's probably very busy-

A lithe but powerful arm longer than Hanataro was tall suddenly lurched out from the nest and slammed on the floor in front of where he was sitting, swinging the entire torso of 11th division captain Kenpachi Zaraki around and bringing Hanataro eye-to-fearsome-yellow-eye with the giant.

"...the fuck're you?" Zaraki grunted, blinking slowly at Hanataro, not entirely awake yet.

"I- I- I'm-" Hanataro sputtered, struggling to introduce himself when he noticed something peculiar- an extra bit of translucent flesh behind Zaraki's eyelids, sliding sideways across his eye to behind his tear duct- "- I'm sorry, do you have Nictitating Membranes??" Hanataro gaped.

Zaraki glared blankly at him for a moment, before breaking into a slow grin and, very slowly closed the pearly membrane over his eye and opened it again to Hanataro's slack-jawed astonishment.

"WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S SO COOL I'VE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF HUMANS HAVING THOSE DO YOU KNOW IF IT'S GENETIC OR-" Hanataro yelped with excitement, jumping to his feet and grabbing the captain's head and staring at his eye, nose pressed to Zaraki's cheekbone for a moment before abruptly remembering where he was and letting go, dropping into a bow hard enough to audibly bonk his head on the floor. "I'msosorrysirpleaseforgivemeidon'twanttodie-"

He was interrupted by Zaraki's loud cackle of amusement and the sensation of being lifted. Zaraki was sitting- well, had extracted his gangly limbs from his nest and arranged them into a pile mostly in contact with the floor- and picked up Hanataro by the collar of his Shihakusho and set him back up on his feet. His cackle trailed off into amused clicking and he sat back, regarding the tiny medic with a peculiar sense of favor.

"Good catch Mr. Sorry." he teased, Yachiru climbing onto his right shoulder. "Dunno who my father was, but my Mom an' Sisters 're Eagles and they got 'em too."

"...Eagles?" Hanataro blinked, cocking his head sideways with confusion. "Like. Birds?"

"Kami, technically, but yeh." Zaraki shrugged, rolling his neck and stretching, still waking up. "So who're you or am I gonna be calling you Mr. Sorry forever?"

"Ohhh... That- well that doesn't exactly explain things but I think I get how- uh, sorry, I'm- I'm not sorry, I'm Hanataro Yamada from the 4th Division!" He yelped, staggering back on topic. "Captain Unohana said you needed an intake medical exam and vaccinations?"

"Yeah probably." Zaraki shugged, scratching at his neck. "Yachiru too- Tired to get as many of 'em in her as I could afford but you know how it is out in the sticks."

"Hm." Nodded Hanataro, who did not. "Um, well- If you wanted to get started, we might be able to finish up before lunch, you must be busy with a whole division to put back together-"

"Yyyyy... -nah." Zaraki yawned. "Stayed up all last night writin' letters to fill it back up and posted 'em early. No rush until I get summat back."

"Which is probably good- I don't think you've EVER gotten a shot, have you Ken-chan?" Yachiru asked, kicking her feet in the air behind his shoulder.

"...Oh." Hanataro mumbled.

-

"...Has anyone seen Yamada?" Yamada the elder enquired after Yamada the Younger, the late afternoon sun casting golden beams through the windows onto the dispatch desk of the 4th.

The incessant chatter of the nurses, medics, janitorial staff and the dispatch officer came to a sudden and extremely suspicious halt.

"It's just that he promised to meet me at the end of his shift so we could walk home together, and it's not like him to be late." Seinosuke spoke lightly, eyes casually panning over the remarkably guilty-looking faces around him.

"He- he's not back yet?" dispatch officer Hiyako Gendo gulped, eyes suddenly fixed on the clock. "I sent him out like five hours ago..."

"Sent him where?" Seinosuke asked pleasantly and the medics collectively flinched.

"Uh, to the- um-" Officer Gendo sputtered, color draining from his face.

"You haven't misplaced my brother, have you?" Seinosuke smiled with gentle menace.

"No!" Gendo yelped. "I- uh- well- the new captain needed an intake exam-!"

"...Which new captain?" Seinosuke spoke softly, looming over to the dispatch counter. "We have promoted an unprecedented SEVEN new captains this week and I would not want to waste time searching nearly two-thirds of the court guard."

"Eight, actually." one of the nurses squeaked, and Seinosuke's head swiveled to face her like an owl. "Eep! We- um, there's a new captain of the 11th division as of last night, Sir." she stammered.

Seinosuke turned back to the dispatch officer, staring down at him with the burning eyes of a wrathful god.

"Hiyako." he spoke gently, putting a hand on the dispatch officer's shoulder. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"Y- yes? Sir?" Hiyako Gendo gulped.

"Good, good- So you wouldn't do something like, I don't know, send my baby brother into the division with a history of such violent enemity with that only combat certified officers are cleared to enter it?" Seinosuke asked fingers over the pressure points of Gendo's shoulder.

"Um." Gulped Gendo.

"-Perhaps you sent him with a senior officer?" Seinosuke tried. "I can understand wanting to give him an impression of how dangerous this work can be on his first day, to make sure he really does have the guts for the 4th, but that should be done in a fashion where he is only an observer to the example of an experienced officer and not, say, totally alone without telling anyone to go check on him?"

"Well-" Gendo whimpered.

"-Because, Hiyako, and I need to emphasize this-" Seinosuke continued, fingertips digging into Gendo's shoulder. "-That there is no body in the morgue right now, because during his promotion to the office yesterday, the current Captain-Kenpachi bisected a significant amount of the sewer and municipal support systems 200 feet below the 11th whilst rendering the previous Captain-Kenpachi into a fine red paste in a single strike!"

Gendo made a strangled noise of pain.

"So please tell me that my sweet, gentle little brother with the constitution of a bowl of oatmeal is literally anywhere besides the vicinity of that monster, preferably in the company of someone with at least half a functioning braincell?" Seinosuke pleaded, leaning in close and steadily increasing the terrible pressure of his grip.

"ISentHimThereAloneOverFiveHoursAgo!" Gendo shrieked, finally flinching and grabbing at his shoulder.

Seinosuke froze, save to let go of Gendo and let him collapse out of his chair, howling in pain. Slowly, he stood up, pleasantly blank smile on his face, and turned to leave the division.

"Someone please inform Captain Unohana that I have deployed to the 11th to retrieve my brother and if there is so much as a HAIR out of place on him, Zaraki will be the shortest-serving captain in history!" He called out, re-tying his Zanpakuto on his belt before vanishing in a burst of Shun-po.

"-Was that you, Seinosuke?" Unohana called from her office down the hall.

-

"-Well, most venom isn't a single chemical but dozens, if not hundreds of compounds with complex interactions so any samples have to be refined down to the individual components and tested both singularly and with the others which can take ages but it's yielded some incredibly effective drugs so far!" Hanatarou babbled excitedly, drawing a grid on Zaraki's thigh, oblivious to Yachiru putting his hair in pigtails.

"My goodness! We certainly have come a long way from using bee stings on arthritis!" Yumichika laughed. Zaraki's self-appointed third seat lounged against the wall near the door, enthralled by the process. His mothers had been something between field medics and hedge witches out in the far western districts and was keeping pace with Hanataro's enthusiastic infodumping about venomics while he prepared the captain for the next round of vaccinations.

"Not that far- your beestings were one of the earliest things we tested for pharmaceutical application, and it turned out that the entire combination of bioreactive compounds in the amounts found in an individual sting was the most effective dosage! More sanitary to use a needle than an actual bee though. Speaking of-" Hanataro turned to Zaraki. "Are you sure you want to do ALL of these today? Unless you're planning on messing around in the sewers, your chances of catching any of these are extremely low, so we can stagger them."

"If I'm gonna feel like crap tomorrow anyway, might as well feel like crap once and be able to fuck around in the sewers if needed." Zaraki shrugged. "-Why are the doctors in charge of that anyway? You've got better shit to do?"

"Ah, well-" Hanataro sighed, capping the marker and getting the next round of vaccines in order. "-Civic maintenance *used* to be part of the security duties of the 11th but... well, after we lost Kenpachi Tokagero down there, your predecessors... never resumed their duties? So it's kind of fallen to us since, but to be honest, the previous guy wasn't exactly someone I'd trust to maintain the necessary standards..."

"Yeah, no shit." Scoffed newly-appointed lieutenant Ikkaku, who was attempting to sort through the literal heap of paperwork Kiganjo had thrown into the corner instead of filling out.

"No I think the shit is supposed to be in the sewers." Zaraki grinned and Ikkaku responded with a single-finger salute.

"Right- lets try to not bend any more needles, okay?" Hanataro smiled, preparing the first syringe.

"Yeah, yeah-" Zaraki rolled his eyes, but obediently inhaled and exhaled, focusing on the square Hanataro was touching. Reiatsu manipulation didn't come naturally to him and it had taken a couple dozen broken needles to work out a technique that allowed Hanataro to actually stick him.

Hanataro focused, feeling the pressure drop with the hand on Zaraki's thigh, focusing his own energy into the tip of the needle with the other, until the difference flipped and-

"Ssk!"" Zaraki hissed a bit as Hanatarou slammed the needle into his leg with the force of a sword strike, but that's what it took. "Yer gettin better- that one stung a bit!"

"Sorry!" Hanataro squeaked, withdrawing the intact needle and changing it over to the next syringe.

"Keep at it and you might be able to really hurt me in fifty years!" Zaraki laughed, ruffling his hair.

"Okay, next is for Orange Fever- this one is famous for burning after injection but we'll see-" Hanataro started then looked up at the feeling of someone's absolutely furious reiatsu approaching at speed.

"Someone coming? You all put yer heads up like bird dogs." Zaraki chuffed.

"I think someone's come to-" Yumichika started but the door beside him slammed open and they were all greeted with the terrible sight of the most feared man in the fourth, wild-eyed and teeth bared, utterly consumed with rage-

"Hi Seinosuke!" beamed Hanataro, entirely used to what his brother looked like after a long day at work or being woken up suddenly. "What are you doing here?"

-

"Hanataro?" Seinosuke yelped, startled by the entirely peaceful and almost domestic scene before him. Zaraki seemed to be politely interested in the vaccination process, the menace that had been at the lieutenants meeting yesterday was sitting in the middle of the 11th's paperwork with a senbei cracker hanging out of his mouth, and Hanataro was getting pink bows tied into his hair by Miss Kusajishi. The remains of afternoon tea were on the table behind him.

"That's him! Who are you?" a third, effeminate man asked from beside the door with a faint prickle of reiatsu, politely reminding Seinosuke to mind his manners in someone else's house.

"This is my older brother Seinosuke!" Hanataro cheerfully explained, reflexively capping the syringe he was holding. "Not that I'm not glad to see you but- OH NO IT'S ALMOST DINNERTIME!"

"It's fine, it's fine." Seinosuke wheezed with relief. "It's my obligation as the oldest to be a worrywart."

"Tch- No point in worrying for this one." Zaraki teased, poking Hanataro in the shoulder. "-We should all be worried about him! He's only gone and stabbed me thirty-two times and I haven't landed even one blow on him!"

"Sir..." Hanataro groaned at the joke.

"Thirty-two?" Seinosuke blinked.

"Could only afford shots fer the kid, so I need all of 'em." Zaraki shrugged. "Not that I was makin' it easy for 'im."

"Um, yeah..." Hanataro hummed. "There's some technique for giving someone with extreme positive spiritual pressure shots that I don't know, right?"

"You? Ask them to lower it?" Seinosuke stared, beginning to wilt as the adrenaline drained out of him.

"Yeah, I... kinda suck at that." Zaraki grunted, looking away from them, right eye shut despite the left one being scarred. "Might as well keep Stabbin'?"

"What's with your eye?" Seinosuke frowned, veteran of spotting unspoken injuries.

"Oh yeah! Check them out- He's got Nictitaing Membranes!" Hanataro beamed.

"He WHAT?" ---

Four hours after that, the Yamada brothers set out for home, Seinosuke with the beginnings of a fascinating new study on Kami-Induced Occular Mutations and Hanataro with a promotion to 'pocket medic' that he wouldn't find out about until Zaraki abducted him from his rounds for 11th division boot camp some four months later.

--- (Tumblr says this is getting too long and is glitching, More about Byakuya and Seinosuke's Marital Conspiracies later)

[jadeazora]

Poor Hanataro being the only normal person in this party.

[incorrctbleach]

Hanataro: [ falls down a flight of stairs ] Isane: I hope you're okay. Yasochika: Stop falling down the stairs. Unohana: How'd the ground taste?

[chaoticreivingu]

This is real.

It's worth noting that Hana uses the modern slang "gorotsuki" to describe his abusers. It means delinquents but can also be used to describe hate crime perpetrators.

Just wanted to point out that an official fully voiced 2008 Bleach game not only states that Hanataro doesn't feel safe walking alone but uses wording that might imply his daily abuse is bigoted AND that Ichigo makes him feel safe💗

[recurring-polynya]

It's been forever since I recapped a thing, so, hey, who wants to watch 2005 Bleach OAV The Sealed Sword Frenzy with me?

[00:12] Cold open to a temple in the woods that's got roughly 300 shinigami hanging around, chillin'.

[0:23] Who the hell are these guys? Are they Kidou Corps? They don't look like Kidou Corps, but they are chanting a lot and (failing to) maintain some sort of seal.

lol, it doesn't matter, this ain't about them.

[0:43] RIP

We are not even one entire minute into this OAV and already, at least 100 shinigami randos have bit it. Superb.

After this, it zooms out to reveal that all of this is taking place in the World of the Living, aka Soul Society's remote toxic spiritual waste repository.

[1:27] Cut to the Kurosaki clinic, where, as per usual, Ichigo is just trying to have a normal one.

Banter with Rukia ensues, where she accuses him of getting fat (???) and "dressing like a pervert", and also announces that she has been studying the fashion of the Living World (this will be semi-relevant later). By the way, Ichigo's underwear peaks out of the waistband of his low-slung cargo pants repeatedly during this scene (for 2005 ambiance) so maybe Rukia has a point here.

[2:30] Obsessed with this little maneuver Rukia does, diving into Ichigo's closet. Ichigo...pretends to be practicing his interpretive dance. You can tell who grew up an Inuzuri street rat and who didn't.

[2:50] Renji shows up, pretends to be a cop, and shoots Ichigo's dad. We've all seen it.

(don't worry about Isshin, it just hit his hair)

[4:28] Scene change, wardrobe change. We are now at the American Burger, and Renji is wearing his Chappy shirt and dick necklace. Once again, we've all seen it.

I told you the thing about Rukia studying Living World fashion would be important later.

Ichigo tries to get Renji to explain what's going on, but Renji is cagey about--OH MY GOD!! HANATAROU IS HERE! HANATAROUUUUUUU! He's wearing the most amazing shorts I have ever seen. Why is he here? Even he's not sure!!

Renji follows up with:

In my on-going obsession with the way Bleach characters address each other, I love the way Renji calls him "Fourth Division." He's not mean about it, it's almost like he's reminding him he's on duty. Did Renji and Hanatarou get deployed on this mission together? What is even going on? Unfortunately, these are not details that concern Sealed Sword Frenzy, instead we get interrupted with an explosion.

SHORTS!!

[6:28] They run outside to fight the villain, who is a shinigami who is really into knives. Renji attempts to shoot him with his shotgun, which doesn't seem to be very effective. I can only imagine that this is some attempt of the Gotei's to "blend in" or some nonsense?? I guess Renji must be in a gigai if they were eating and Yuzu could see him. Anyway, a thing I want to mention is that SSF has a lot of really good rolling on the ground sequences and I am going to gif them all for you:

How am I only seven minutes into this thing? I have to go eat lunch. I will be back with more in a bit.

Update: Here is Part 2 and Part 3

[zexainias-doodles]

Hanataro Yamada

Precious boi must be protected 🥺

[lem0nsharks]

My biannual bleachies

[qkyuu]

tite kubo make more hisagomaru content and my life is yours

[timetravellingshinigami]

My fave bleach ending dialogue is from the Season 2 Ep 37.

Yachiru: Kenny one of your bells fell off!

Kenpachi: oh yeah? Wait a sec, I'll fix it right away.

Ichigo: did you set your hair yourself?

Kenpachi: A man's got to look good!

Yachiru: Kenny you're so talented!

Kenpachi: want me to do your hair too Ichigo?

Ichigo: No! No thank you. I'm good.

Kenpachi: don't be bashful.

Ichigo: really?

[troius]

Squad 11: where the commitment to your captain is so intense that not only go you all use the bathroom when he does, but so does the guy you bully.

[amelawkra]

GUESS WHO IS BACK🗣🗣🔥‼️

[espada-nightmare]

So, I messed with the tier list templates...

[chaoticreivingu]

Do you ever just

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

An Unwavering Light - Chapter 5

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

Setting: begins before the confrontation with Aizen and co. in Fake Karakura Town arc, and goes from there to the Thousand Year Blood War arc. This chapter takes place between chapters 422-423 of the manga.

Music to listen to: Wasteland by Royal & Serpent (YT | Spotify), Existence (Piano) by by Magome Togoshi (YT), Machi, Toki no Nagare, Hito by Shinji Orito (YT), Compassion by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Valtari by by Sigur Rós (YT | Spotify), and Ekki Múkk by Sigur Rós (YT | Spotify).

Fic 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?

Chapter synopsis: While Hinamori continues her physical recovery in Twelfth Division, she gets a visit from Nemu. Hitsugaya considers his way forward, but it's harder than expected. Can a much needed conversation with Rangiku put him on the right track?

AN: Well, this is long overdue. I sincerely apologize for the delay with this chapter, and please know going forward there won't be a delay as long as this between chapters. I want to note that I try to write these chapters kind of like stand alone fics -- it's my bread and butter after all -- so I hope you can enjoy each chapter, whether you're someone who has just stumbled across this fic or has been reading it from the beginning.

Now, on to the chapter itself! We're in the recovery arc -- yes I'm giving this fic arcs -- which will be the focus of this chapter and the next. Prepare for some slower chapters, but I'm confident it'll be worth it in the long run! Also, while there will be not much hitsuhina, we've still got brotp goodness with Hitsugaya and Rangiku!

For anyone who remembers it, I wrote a fic featuring this same scenario for Hitsugaya in A Life Without Her. As mentioned, some of these fics or their ideas will end up being incorporated into this fic, whether it was a new POV or written differently. While there are similarities between the two, I chose to split this scenario across two chapters and include some new material to make it work better for this fic.

Thank you for your patience with how long it took to get this chapter out, and I hope you enjoy it!

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

<< Prev chapter || Chapter Index || Next chapter >>

_________________

Hinamori can barely breathe in the frigid air. She rubs her arms and huddles into herself, and despite the cold, the ground beneath her feet is brittle and warm. There’s only darkness around her, reminding her of the first time she came here.

“Tobiume?” she calls out, but her voice does not echo.

She turns in all directions, squinting to find any sign of her zanpakuto spirit. She almost misses the twinkle in the distance, a tiny dot of red-orange light. She winces when prickly grass stabs her soles and steps over the tree roots when the backs of her feet brush against them. Her pace is slow, even as everything in her wants to race to the glimmer blinking at her.

The air is scentless, and she longs for the sweeter floral scents of the trees around her. More than that, she wishes she would see. She’d spent years in this darkness, trying to hear her zanpkauto’s voice and understand what this place was. As the decades went on and she gained her Shikai, Tobiume’s flames grew so large they illuminated the floating world around her in vibrant colors -- whether it was through igniting cracks baked into the earth or giving light to the sun and moon high in the sky.

The ground, though still warm, is cooling slowly beneath her feet the closer she gets. The glimmer is a group of embers, glowing beneath logs that threatens to cave in and extinguish them.

“Tobiume!” Hinamori half sobs. “You’re so…”

Her walk turns into a run, and she falls to her knees before her zanpakuto spirit. With shaking hands, she lifts the wood away. She feels around her and finds a few twigs. She breaks them in half and nestles them into the embers, but they do not catch alight.

Hands falling to her lap, Hinamori slumps by the meager warmth as the ground beneath her cools and the air freezes the tips of her fingers and toes.

_________________________

Hinamori comes out of her inner world at the same time a door slides open. She isn't conscious of it, her senses still hazy from the lack of quality sleep and the medication they've been giving her to numb the pain. Despite the the murkiness clouding her mind, she can't forget what she just saw. With a wince, she attempts to reach out to her zanpkauto.

“You’re awake.”

She blinks, then registers who stands in the doorway. “Kurotsuchi-san,” she rasps.

She can't remember the last time she spoke with Twelfth Division's lieutenant, let alone saw her.

Nemu says nothing until she's at Hinamori's bedside. "You shouldn't move. Were you wanting your zanpakuto?"

Hinamori can only nod. Nemu wheels the table closer to her, bringing Tobiume to be more than within an arms reach.

Hinamori could weep from the kind gesture. "T-Thank you."

She rests a hand on Tobiume's scabbard, and a pulse runs up her arm, as though a numbed limb was finally able to feel again. These days it took touching her weapon to fully feel her connection to her zanpakuto spirit, and after what he'd seen in her inner world, she understand why.

She turns her attention to Nemu. Had her fellow lieutenant expected her to still be unconscious? They’d taken her for another procedure, but she can’t remember if it was earlier today or only a few hours ago. Time passed strangely in this division. There’s no clocks in most rooms, and very few windows. The only way she is able to keep track was when someone brings her the small mushed-up meals, and even then it can be hard to tell when they're all taste and look the same.

Hinamori musters up a small, wobbly smile. “It’s good to see you.”

She meant it too. Most of the Shinigami who have come to her room -- either to check on the equipment she's hooked up to or to wheel her into and out of an operating theater -- have been strangers. She can’t remember the last time she saw someone familiar.

“Have you been awake for long?” Nemu asks, clasping her hands in front of her.

“No, I just woke up.” A half-truth, given she can’t remember when her dreams ended and her entry into her inner world began.

Nemu stares at her, saying nothing. Hinamori would’ve been unnerved if she wasn’t used to it. It had been particularly prevalent when she first joined the Women’s Association; she’d watch and rarely speak unless spoken to.

“How have you been?" she asks.

There’s a brief, slight furrow in Nemu’s brow, but if vanishes just as quickly. "I've been well."

"That's good. Did you need to check on the machine or give me something?”

“No, I didn't come here for either of those things. I…came here to check on you.”

She widens her smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

Nemu nods as her gaze falls to the side. “It’s nothing.”

The haze in Hinamori's mind lifts a few more layers, and she realises she can finally ask someone. “Can you tell me how has everyone else been? What’s been happening out there?”

Nemu bows her head, considering her questions. “I may not be able to tell you everything.”

“Because you’re not allowed to?” Hinamori asks, swallowing nervously.

“No, because we don’t have much time. I am expected to be with Mayuri-sama for a test on a new reishi device in ten minutes.”

“Oh…then, tell me what you can.”

Still, Nemu hesitates. Is she concerned about the time? Or about what she can tell her? She shouldn't have put her on spot. Hinamori opens her mouth to dismiss her request, but then Nemu begins.

_________________________

Shiro-chan? Hey, Shiro-chan, where are you?

_________________________

“Can you feel this?”

Isane, crouching on the floor, gently drags the pointed end of a brush across the underside of his foot. Before he even answers, his toes twitch in response. “Yes.”

“Good. Your leg and foot are responding without issue. There’s slightly higher sensitivity in your left leg. Captain Unohana may request that you come in for another assessment in a week to make sure this isn’t. Even if that were the case, it won’t be an issue for you in your everyday life or in combat.”

Hitsugaya nods. The division member behind Isane, Mori, writes down her findings and observations as she speaks. Isane stands and, once he stops writing, Mori takes the brush from her and hands her the reflex hammer from the tray.

Hitsugaya takes this moment to briefly glance at Rangiku, still sitting in the chair at his bedside. She’s not really with them, her gaze hazy and focused on the floor.

“Next, we’ll test your arm,” Isane says, coming to his right side. “Like with your leg, we’ll test your tendons and joints first, then the dexterity of your fingers. First, keep your arm relaxed while I hold it. Tell me if you feel any sensation, particularly any pinching or pain.”

He does as she instructs while she lifts and bends his arm at the elbow. She finds different points in his arm and bounces the hammer off them. Like with his leg, he watches his arm respond, seeing the muscles flex or the joints making his forearm and hand sway to one side. She reports her findings for Mori to write down while she goes down the length of his arm.

He’s instructed to curl each finger one at a time, then together to touch his palm, and finally each other. She gets him to do the same with his left arm. If someone who had not known what happened to him saw this, they’d think the arm is no different from the right. His muscles respond the same way, his fingers are just as flexible and responsive as their counterparts, and he feels nothing abnormal going through and up his nerves.

Done with those tests, Isane then instructs him to hold his arm out straight, then at several different angles. Again, nothing abnormal.

“Your arm is the same as your right.” Isane nods to Mori, who puts the clipboard under his arm and begins packing up the instruments on the tray. Rangiku, having looked up some time ago, gives Hitsugaya a small smile.

“We’re done with testing,” Isane says, drawing both of their attention. “We’ll present the findings to Captain Unohana. She should be visiting you in the next three hours.” Then to Rangiku. “She’ll want to assess your condition as well, Lieutenant Matsumoto.”

“I don’t think she’ll find any problems,” Rangiku says, and Hitsugaya expects her to wink and make some light-hearted comment, but she only adds, “I’ve been feeling better.”

Isane grins. “I'm glad. You seem better, from what I can see. Captain Unohana said she would come to your room first.” Back to Hitsugaya. “Then she’ll see you, Captain Hitsugaya.”

“When can I be discharged?”

His abrupt question shifts the mood in the room. Mori, having finished packing up the tools, freezes behind Isane and his surreptitious gaze goes between her and Hitsugaya. Both lieutenants’ smiles fade, but Rangiku is the only one who looks away.

“Although it’s ultimately up to my Captain,” Isane says, “I would advise staying today and getting discharged tomorrow.”

Hitsugaya clenches his jaw. “Can I ask you to pass on a request for early discharge along with your assessment to Captain Unohana?”

“…Yes, I will let my Captain know about your request.” Isane bows, and Mori follows suit. “I have to tend to other patients. If you need anything, Mori-san will be in the room across from yours.”

Rangiku bows her head in return, and Hitsugaya is slow to follow.

“Thank you,” he says.

Both straighten, and after receiving a nod form Isane, Mori leaves the room first. Raising his head, he it feels wrong to end things there.

“Kotetsu.”

She halts and turns to him. Her shoulders stiffen, as if dreading what might come next. “Yes, Captain Hitsugaya?”

“I apologize for my words to you yesterday.”

Isane, stumped, can only blink at him. He can sense Rangiku’s confusion, but he doesn’t look away from Fourth Division’s lieutenant.

“I didn’t act as I should have," he clarifies. "Thank you for arranging the Hojiku-Za procedure with Twelfth Division, and for bringing me back to Fourth Division.”

Isane’s gaze softens, both with relief and pity. Although the last thing he wants is the latter, he can’t be annoyed by her reaction.

She nods. “It’s all right, Captain. In emergency situations we can act differently from how we normally would. If you’ll excuse me.”

With a final nod to Rangiku, she leaves.

Hitsugaya expects his lieutenant to fill the silence immediately after Isane is gone, but it pervades until he speaks up. “They’ll be serving lunch soon. You should get back to your room.”

His words snap her out of her reverie, and she stiffly stands up. “Yeah, I suppose I better.”

Her lips don’t close, and he waits again for what she’s dying to say. He can sense it coming, about to crash over him like a tidal wave, threatening to turn the dull throb in his chest into an inferno.

“You should take Kotetsu’s advice.”

Again he’s stunned.

“It’s good news,” Rangiku elaborates. “I’m glad your limbs are all right. Still, she’s right. You should rest for another day. If I’m discharged today, Mingawa-kun and I can handle things. Hell, he can handle things for another day without either of us, he told me as much.”

“He visited you?”

“Yes. He wanted to visit you too, but you were in Twelfth Division at the time.”

He doesn’t doubt his Third Seat or his lieutenant, knows they can handle things for a short while. Even so… “I’ll discuss it with Unohana.”

The slight drop in the corners of Rangiku’s mouth says more than her words, “I’ll try to come back after Captain Unohana visits you. If not, then I'll see you tomorrow.”

He nods, and she takes it as her cue to leave. He stares after her, and an unease churns in his guts.

She’s not herself. She should've brought it up by now. Or did he just want her or someone to finally bring Hinamori up? Was that why Isane had tensed up before? She and Rangiku and everyone else have to be holding back, and waiting for him to ask about her again.

He keeps staring at the empty doorway until the world around him becomes a haze. Alone again, the memories of yesterday threaten to crawl back in.

With a shake of his head, he looks down to his limbs. His arms rests on his lap, palms facing up, and his feet dangle an inch from the floor. He pulls the robe up – using his left hand as well as his right – until his legs are visible from the knees down. He lifts them and stretches his toes, gingerly splaying them then curling them in and out. Identical in every way, just as he remembers.

He used to have a litany of scars across them, and while the right holds a few more recent ones, his left had been spared since he his Academy days. He can’t say why that is, other than with his right leg being the dominant one, it’s always the one he put forward first in battle, making it more vulnerable to attacks.

Lowering his legs and smoothing the robe back over his knees, he turns his attention back to his arms. He lifts his left one to the ceiling and flexes his fingers again; open, shut, open, shut, open. He twists his wrist to look at his palm, then at the back as he lowers it.

The fingers of his right hand ghost over the flesh of his left forearm. It’s completely unblemished, lacking the faint scars he’s known for years. The deep, tiny one on the left side of his wrist, a mission that had gone badly and served as a reminder for him to always be on guard, no matter the circumstances. The circular one on his upper arm, from bring nicked by a Hollow’s claw, and close it was the one that had shrunken over the years, from a bad fall and tumble he had as a child. The one that went from his elbow to loop around to the front of his forearm, a wound from his first days as a seated officer on a mission; it’d gotten so faint it was barely noticeable unless one were looking closely. He traces a finger over where it used be, gone forever.

After a pause, he touches his left hand. His right hand is calloused, roughed by years of training and battle. The skin of his left is smooth and softer, as if it had never lifted a weapon before . As if all of his training had been for nought. It might as well have been. He couldn’t protect her.

His right fingers dig into his left palm, and his left fingers dig in on top of them. They don’t stave the memories away, nor the whirling torrent of something that threatens tears to bead in his eyes.

Why?

His limbs shake, and he bows his head. Shutting his eyes, he breathes deeply, haltingly. Sweat breaks out on the back of his neck and on his temple.

No, he can’t, not here.

But his breath doesn’t return, his head won’t stop pounding, his chest won’t stop hurting. He pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see blotches of white and red behind his eyelids.

It doesn’t stop the images of that day race up to meet him. It doesn’t stop the echo of her last words filling his ears until they’re ringing. It doesn’t stop the surge of bile racing up to his throat.

He needs to get out of here.

His eyes snap open. Without thinking, he slaps his feet on to the floor and pushes himself from the bed. He ends up buckling and yelps when his knees and elbows hit the floor with a hard 'smack'.

The door opens and Mori comes rushing into the room. Hitsugaya doesn’t look him in the eye. He lets him and another division member who Mori calls out for lift him back into the bed. His breakfast ends up in a bucket that Mori barely gets to him in time. He doesn't remember when his breathing calmed, if the sweat had been wiped away or dried on it's own.

He can barely respond to their questions about what happened. He’s caught in that state again, between the past and present. But this isn’t the battlefield; this is the aftermath.

I’m stuck here, he thinks while they pass him a glass of water. He sips it obligingly. It's enough to make them leave with reassurances that their captain is on her way. They’ll tell her what happened. Will she enter the room with a look of pity? Of disappointment in her fellow captain’s conduct? Of knowing?

He’s too weak to punch the pillow he rests his head on, and soon, his eyes shut into a restless nap.

____________________________

“Shiro-chan? Hey, Shiro-chan, where are you? Shiro-ch -- Oh, he’s asleep.”

He heard her shuffle around him. He didn’t know why he was pretending to be asleep – he knew really but he refused to admit it to himself. He kept himself composed, eyes shut, posture relaxed against the veranda’s floorboards.

He sensed her hesitation, deciding whether or not to wake him. After several more seconds, she left, her footsteps retreating back into his house. They paused, then the front door slid open, and they continued to the front.

____________________________________

Hitsugaya watches the night pass, eyes on the ceiling, having tried to fall asleep only to startle awake a few hours later. The sounds and images of battle rush away from his ears and eyes, as if sucked off by the wind.

He grazes his fingertips over Hyourinmaru’s hilt, but still his zanpakuto says nothing. It's strange to not have him here, in presence or voice. But then again, he’s not even sure he himself has anything to say.

He considers asking for medication for the pain in his chest and head, but it would only be a temporary measure. And it’s not like the limbs he’s regrown; he cannot start afresh with either his head or heart.

He recalls Unohana’s assessment, and her final verdict that he will stay for another day, with additional tests of his limbs scheduled for tomorrow due to what happened today. He hadn't been completely truthful with her, but he sensed she knew that.

He can’t stay here. He has to...what?

His furrow lifts away as it hits him. He has not idea what he's going to do.

_________________________

He heard Hinamori and Granny’s tones rather what they said. Hinamori unsure, and Granny with a smile in her voice. She was likely telling Hinamori about what he’d been up to – gathering watermelons from the patch they used to frequent. The evidence of his journey lay at the door, with six large watermelons stacked up.

There was a teeter of Hinamori’s laughter, then Granny said something before resuming her sweeping. Hinamori’s footsteps returned to his house, but he frowned when they scurried around. They went to one closest and then another, pause there, then wondered back to him.

_________________________

The tests are the same as the ones conducted yesterday. The only difference is there’s another involving walking around the room and picking things up. He ignores the strange indignation that comes with the latter, knowing it’s a sense of pride that wouldn’t help him.

In the moments between the tests, he thinks about the revelation from last night. He can't believe he's been so oblivious and short-term in his thinking. He has no plan, no way forward. He’d wanted to escape from here, but to do what?

Upon completion, Isane determines there’s no physical issues preventing him from being discharged tomorrow morning. Not long after she and Mori had left to hand their results over to Unohana, Hitsugaya stands from his bed and leaves his room.

Walking down the hallway, he receives a few looks from Fourth Division members, but none question him or advise him to return to his room.

He goes to the room where whisps of Rangiku’s reiatsu emanate from. His brow furrows seeing someone else in her room. Hanataro is stripping the bed of its sheets, with fresh ones folded in a hamper on the floor.  

He makes to leave, but Hanatato looks up. “Oh, Captain Hitsugaya.” He bows his head. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t see you there. Did you need something?”

“I was looking for Matsumoto.”

 “Oh, the Lieutenant is out in the gardens. ” He points to the window. “She wanted to get some fresh air.”

Hitsugaya takes a few steps into the room and looks outside. Sure enough, she’s there, sitting on a backless bench beneath a tree offering very little shelter. Her shoulders are once again slouched, and her hair curtains her face from view.

“She mentioned you may come to see her,” Hanataro adds. “I don’t think she’d mind if you joined her out there, i-if that’s what you want to do, that is.”

“I see. Thank you.” He hears Hanataro ramble something else, but pays it no mind as he leaves.

He slows himself to a stop outside of his room. A passing officer glances at him, slowing their steps when he doesn’t move. He makes to go in, and they continue down the hallway, convinced he’s returned to his room.

He reflects on his surroundings, telling himself he isn't stalling. The walls out in the hallway are a pale green. There’s chatter coming from another room, and there’s a brief waft of flowers in the air, breaking through the medicinal and clean scents he’s gotten used to.

He can retreat back to his room, let this gumption slip away. He hadn’t even realised he’s been building up any sort of courage to speak with Rangiku. He didn’t want her pitying or wary look, he’s gotten enough of those kinds of stares from everyone else. More than that, he finds himself fearing if she’ll bring up the battle. If she’ll bring up Hinamori. Hadn't he wanted someone to? Hadn't he he anticipated it?

Even so, he’s like a child, trying to avoid what hurts. It’s inevitable they’ll discuss it. It might helps him decide what to do after he leaves Fourth Division. With that in mind, continues down the hallway and turns off at the nearest exit to the gardens.

A strong breeze greets him, one that ruffles his robes and hair and sends orange and brown leaves from the trees twirling through the air and spinning on the ground and veranda that encompasses the courtyard.

He steps down into the gardens, but pauses when he spots Rangiku. She hasn't budged since he saw her through the window. He wonders how long she’s been sitting out here like this, if she even realises how much time has passed.

His frown deepens when he recalls a folktale from his childhood, one involving a woman so overcome by sadness she never rose from the chair she sat upon after losing her lover. Over time, her skin turned to stone and her tears watered the flowers that grew around her feet until her eyes too turned to stone.

He shakes his head against the thought that his lieutenant could become like that. That whatever was eating her up would consume her whole and transform her into a shell of who she was. He bites the inside of his cheek at the thought of what he believes is causing her to be like this. He hasn’t yet learned Gin’s fate, but it's more than likely the same as Tosen’s. Aizen held little regard for those who served him – Halibel’s demise was evidence enough of that.

Pushing the thought of the traitors aside, he continues down the pebbled footpath. His hands, loose at his side, brush shrubs that line the path. It’s oddly nice to feel something that isn’t material or metallic. He takes a moment before continuing run his left hand over the leaves. Again, like he never lost it in the first place.

Hearing his footsteps, Rangiku raises her head. Some of her hair is still in the way, leaving one eye of out view. She gives him a wane smile. “Captain.”

He sits down next to her without a word. They remain silent for some time. The air around them is strange, but not uncomfortable.

He turns his head a fraction to his lieutenant. He wonders if she’s angry with him. She should be, and so should anyone else who is Hinamori’s friend.

“They’re letting me go tomorrow,” she says after a minute.

He doesn’t respond right away. “Me as well.”

“If you need extra time --”

“Absolutely not.” It comes out harsher than intended.

In the face of his frustration, her smile returns, albeit smaller and wistful. Then, crossing one leg over the other, she changes the subject. “Minagawa came by this morning. He said he's visit you too.”

He folds his arms across his waist. “He did. He mentioned there’s catch up on paperwork, but he’s otherwise kept other admin running smoothly.”

“He’s always been a hard worker. We should let him have a break. Hanae-kun, too. He’s been helping him. ”

Hitsugaya nods. “Neither of them may want to.”

“Stubbornness. I can’t speak for Hanae-kun, but you and Minagawa always had that in common.” It’s her attempt at her usual lightheartedness, but it doesn’t quite reach her voice.

Hitsugaya only scoffs, and its similarly half hearted. He folds his arms. “I’ll bring it up with them tomorrow.”

“Well, I hope they take you up on it.” She tilts her head back. Her hair slips over her shoulder and her bangs brush along her cheekbones. “They deserve it.”

Unsure what to say, Hitsugaya lets her comment hang in the air. They return to silence, and he allows himself to take in his surroundings. He’s had quiet moments in his room, but they were not the sort that brought him the peace. Though his mind is still heavy and his chest still aching, the susurration of the leaves and the smells of nature are soothing. It reminds him of his childhood, of days spent in the forest.

“I know what happened.”

The statement is like a stone breaking through glass. It's so sudden he flinches. He’s been waiting for this, but even knowing it would come still didn’t make it any less impactful. With a quiet, strangled grunt, he looks at Rangiku.

He’d expected accusation at worst, pity at best, and he had strings of words prepared for each, but he’s rendered speechless by the compassion and horror in his lieutenant’s gaze.

“I saw most of it from the ground. I had no idea he’d…” She takes in a long breath, her tears remaining unshed. “It wasn’t your fault, Captain. You have to know that. Everyone was under his power.”

He unfolds his arms and grips the bench beneath them.“Regardless, it happened.” And I should’ve been strong enough to stop it. "And you're wrong. I'm the reason she's receiving organ recovery treatment right now."

She leans forward, adamant. “No, you're not. You and the other captains couldn't have known. And I know your feelings about Twelfth Division. Believe me, you’re not the only one who feels that way, but Hinamori is receiving the best treatment she can right now. She’s alive, sir. There has to be a way forward from this.”

No matter how much he tried to prepare himself for the mention of her, his heart lurches and his grip on the bench becomes white-knuckled. “So, you know what she feels now, do you?”

Rangiku winces and her gaze goes to ground. “Of course I don’t, but you don’t either. I don’t think either of us can imagine what she’s going through right now.”

He could retort that he’s known her longer, can predict her reactions to anything, but the words don’t even reach his throat. Because they’re not true. He didn’t predict her actions during the invasion of Ichigo and his friends or when Aizen had set up for them to all find Central Forty-Six slaughtered.

Even when he’d retraced his steps to get back to her, he’d thought he of all people should’ve known she would act the way she did for Aizen’s sake. in the minutes before he found her on the brink of death and the man who’d slain her grinning not even ten steps away from her,

What’s the stop her from hating him now, even when she knows the truth?

He stares into his lap, both of his arms in his peripheral. Both taut from his harsh grip, but one is trained but was unable to find the strength to protect her, the other is new and too soft. “How could she feel anything else?”

Rangiku takes in a long breath, and the exhale is quiet and dragged out. “It’s not for you to know or decide whats she feels. She'll know this wasn't your fault, that you never wanted this to happen. When the time comes, you can cross that bridge, sir,”

Will that bridge ever present itself? This could be the end. She may never be able to look him in the eye again, may never forgive him for what he’s done. He wouldn’t forgive himself, can’t forgive himself.

As if hearing his thoughts, Rangiku says, “We have to be there for her when the time comes. We should visit her when we can."

His throat goes dry at the thought. All this time, he never once thought of seeing her. It should’ve been so obvious, the first thing to come to mind with planning a way forward.

"Is that wise?" he says, "considering..."

“I know it’ll be hard,” she adds, “but it’s the only way you can start again. If not at Twelfth Division, then when she’s in Fourth. You can ask about her condition all you want to those treating her, but you won’t know how she truly is and where you stand until she you see her.”

It’s not like Rangiku to be this forward and insistent. His stomach roils at the idea of seeing her. Of course he’d be anxious about seeing her, but perhaps it's the right thing to do.

He returns his gaze to hers. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, do you feel prepared to resume your duties tomorrow? If not, you should continue to rest here for as long as you need.”

He can’t tell if she frowns at the sudden change of subject or the uncharacteristic rasp in his voice. He could cringe from it, but he manages to remain stoic. He’s on the edge, and if she continues speaking about Hinamori he may let everything out.

She shuts her eyes and presses her lips together in a tight line. She lets out a quiet, resigned sigh through her nose. “No, I’ll be fine.”

She won’t be, but like him, the work will be a distraction. So, he nods. “Good.”

_______________________________________

After Hitsugaya returns to his rooms, the day passes with only lunch and dinner as interruptions before dusk. He expects a visit from Unohana, can sense her reiatsu coming up the hallway. She turns off into another room briefly, before coming back out and going to another.

Hitsugaya lays back on his bed. Tired of staring at the ceiling, he turns on to his side, staring at the bedside table where his dinner tray had been an hour ago. He forced himself to eat against his lack of appetite, and the food is heavy in his stomach.

His gaze wonders to the door and he returns to tracking Unohana’s reiatsu. She moves into another room -- Rangiku's he realises belatedly. Sensing she stays in her room for a particularly long time, he shifts his attention to his hands, resting in front of his face.

He never thought he’d miss his scars. It seems like something Eleventh Division would mourn. Perhaps he can understand now why so many of them hold such pride in them. It’s a sign of a past battle, one survived and victorious over.

He has no proof of that anymore. Had he really learned from his past mistakes?

He shuts his eyes on that thought.

__________________________

He schooled his expression back to neutral before she came out on to veranda. She knelt at his side, and it took everything for him to not open his eyes when she lifted his head. It wasn’t far off the floorboards, but enough so that she lodged something soft underneath. A pillow?

Then she unfolded something – a sheet he suspected. “Would he need this?” she asked herself. “It’s getting colder in the evenings, he might be out here for a while.”

He pressed his lips together, hoping she didn’t see it, managing to stifle a laugh. She could be so strange. Thinking of whether he’d need a sheet or not, doing something like this when she didn’t need to.

That made something his chest tighten. He tried to ignore it. He’s meant to be annoyed at her right now.

As if she read his mind, she finally spoke again. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.” She sighed. “I wish I’d brought the news up differently. I didn’t think you’d be so upset by it…”

He wasn’t upset, he was annoyed, he told himself.

“I don’t understand though. I always thought you didn’t care whether or not I got into the Academy.” Then, to herself, more quietly. “Was I wrong? Did I miss something?”

He didn’t fully understand it himself. He always told himself he didn’t care what she did or where she went. It had been easier in the beginning when they hardly knew each other, but it took more effort as the years went by.

He should 'wake up'. He needed to stop this.

She let out a weak chuckle. “What am I doing? I should be saying all of this to you when you’re awake.”

She stood, paused for a moment. He could feel her eyes on him. Was she waiting for him to wake up? Or did she know he wasn’t really asleep? If she did, she wouldn’t have indulged him for this long, surely.

“I promise I will next time. I don’t want things to be like this before I leave.”

After several heartbeats, she left. He heard her put her sandals back on, slid the front door open, then closed it, a quick goodbye to Granny, and finally her footsteps scraped against the dirt as she rushed back into the Junrinan.

He doesn’t open his eyes until then. He twists on to his back and throws an arm over his face.

He hated the pillow pressed beneath his head, and the folded blanket left at his side within arm’s reach. He hated the painful tightness in his chest. He hated that she was going to Academy. He hated that he had been a brat to her about it. He hated that he knew what she wanted to say and that she was none the wiser.

__________________________

He awakens from a restless nap at the sound of a muffled voice. Unohana, outside his door, but she isn’t asking to come in. She’s speaking with someone else. He can’t make out what they’re saying.

Eyes half hooded, he’s back to staring at his hands.

"...you won’t know how she truly is and where you stand until she you see her."

He holds on to Rangiku's words while waiting in the stillness. They remain at the forefront of his mind when Unohana comes in to check on him and confirm he’ll be discharged tomorrow morning, and even in the hours after she leaves.

The idea of seeing Hinamori does nothing to ease him into sleep.

__________________________

Hinamori sits by the embers, knees drawn to her chest and arms wrapped around them. She couldn’t fall asleep, so she chose to retreat to her inner world again. She doesn’t want to go back to that darkness she's been floating in, as tempting as it can be.

She thinks about what Nemu had told her yesterday. She hadn't told her how the battle had ended or what happened after she had lost consciousness, and Hinamori isn't sure if was because they ran out of time or if she was keeping it from her. She tells herself it didn't matter for now.

Her friends are safe, some are being treated in Fourth Division, others have already returned to their duties. Despite the relief that brought, Hinamori wanted to ask about those who hadn’t been brought up, but too exhausted and disorientated, she chose to leave it. Even if she had the strength, however, would she truly ask?

She knows Rangiku is recovering, but her injuries had been so severe, was she truly all right? The memory of her falling to the town below, and then of her on concrete beside her as Izuru tended to her injuries made Hinamori wince. With a shake of her head, she ponders on what else Nemu had told her about her friend. How had she gotten from the Fake Karakura Town back to the Soul Society before the battle's end? Why had she?

She chooses not to think about Gin and Tosen’s fates – Nemu hadn't brought them up, but the fact she’s safe should be evidence enough they were immobilised, either imprisoned or cut down. She worries about Izuru and Hisagi. How are they coping with the loss of their captains? What about Rangiku with Gin?

The thought of Hitsugaya leaves her shaken, and she the cold that’d permeated her body and now her world makes her tighten arms around herself. She's not ready to think about him yet, but Nemu said he was recovering in Fourth Division.

Then there was Aizen. The thought of him sends a shudder through her, and she has to swallow back tears. The memories of what happened are too fresh, too confusing, that if she were to think on them she’s certain that darkness would come back.

She gazes down at her hands. They’re cast more in shadow than light. After everything, it hadn’t worked. Her training, her will, her escape that could risk her place in the Fifth Division, it was for nothing.  How can she face anyone? If she had at least proved herself in battle, would anyone have questioned her abilities? Would they see her as weak and unfit for her role now?

Tobiume’s voice cuts in and out as a whisper too quiet to hear. Hinamori returns her gaze to the embers.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I’m so sorry.”

She reaches a hand in, unfurling her fingers in the orange glow. It doesn’t burn, it never has. It flows over her in waves like the sea.

“I’ll make this better…” She bows her head and rests her temple on her knees. “Somehow.”

_________________________

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[incorrctbleach]

Ganju: I'm a responsible adult! Hanataro: [ raises an eyebrow ] Ganju: I am an adult. Hanataro: [ raises both eyebrows ] Ganju: I'm still older than you.