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canariie · 1 year ago

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Ahhh I was so excited to read and reread this that I truly dropped everything to dive into this!!

Firstly I love the huge request train that is the task of getting Hitsugaya to come to the beach. Like really such a herculean task and truly he is probably the only one that actually resists coming. In another life, I'd love to see Hitsugaya be the one who chooses the company outing (like a ski lodge) and everyone else gripes about it hahaha

This tension between past and present really shows that this beach trip is about Hitsugaya. In the oast, the beach trip is the welcome filler but no, we are in Toushiro's brain and he cannot let Hell go. The way you paint the tension of the meeting hall, i think it made us feel like when the new one shot dropped and there's this dread, like "oh no how will our favourite characters get out of this"

IS THAT THE WHIPPLE HAT ON MOMO!! When I first saw that i was like ":0, I recognize that hat"! I really love that in several moments of this fic, Momo appears when Toushiro gets too caught up in his thoughts. Also your little moments, like the fact that she eases him when he would otherwise might be intimidated of the cashier 🥲 And Momo persistently trying to figure out whats wrong with him and him catching on! Like at the restaurant and giving him an easy going smile!

I love the moment of reflection on Ukitake. I think we normally see their relationship as comedic with all the sweets, but you really get a sense that Toushiro probably did look up to Ukitake for his kindness and strength. Probably is the child in him to have this unwavering trust in someone like that.

Toushiro this is a vacation, not a work trip!! Don't go train at night! But in all seriousness I love this sleeplessness to him and he really can't let go of the idea they'll go the battle. This unease and restlessness.

The scene with Mayuri really cemented to me how painful the burden must be of the detoxification process. As something that Toushiro has to carry on his own, and that if he were the main character in his own story, it'd be both his driving force to further growth and the difficult journey. But I love how he shows his concern for Matsumoto first though there may be other selfish reasons inside for why he wants the cure.

SUNS OUT GUNS OUT, I LOVE IT. Renjii your sense of fashion is fabulous.

And to Toushiro's wors with mortality I love the comparison to Granny, who lives a long undisturbed life, free of any of those worries and participsting in the mundane of doing laundry. I feel like it put more into perspective why Toushiro is so plagued with an idea of an untimely death.

Kazui and Ichika are precious. Momo mothering them both is even more precious. Buy I love the tension in her shoulders that tells you the one she's most concerned about is Toushiro and we know it but Toushiro doesn't quite yet. And even to her understanding that the heat affects him to the point that he may come on rude, but she accepts that (and even holding his wrist so that he has the agency to pull away!! Ahh Momo my darling girl 🥹)

I really love how you illustrate through Toushiros eyes Momos continued effort to care for Toushiro, especially in the flashback when she invites him to the beach! Pointing out how she knows Toushiro messed up something but she keeps mum and instead takes one step by inviting him somewhere for his own good! I love it.

I love Toushiro finally giving way to his worries and just dumping it all out. And then ti his final realization that he could die and be like Ukitake (which I know is something you were super worried about when it first came out but NOW I can truly feel that impactful fear 🥺🥺) and I love Momo trying her best to console and lift him up. And then the "are you scared?" moment? Absolutely lovely. And all the self reflection of morning peace and having the water crash onto them both. I think you really depicted such a beautiful tender moment and I think they are both completely in character!! It is lovely to see toushiro being vulnerable and while that might seem out of usual I think at the end of the day he has a lot of feelings and even he can be overwhelmed to the point of needed a Momo hug.

And the ending with Toushiro slowly realizing that he does want to be pulled by Momo and they go off on their own!

Honestly I know you were worried about this fic but I think you did an exceptional job of dicing into a toushiro we don't see much but truly truly exists and having Momo bring him out of his shell was exactly what I would imagine to happen!!

Thank you for writing and ahring 🥰🥰🥰

On the Shoreline

Hitsuhina Week: Day 6 - Something beautiful / Waves

Prompts: Waves, stars, vacation together

Rating: K/General but with mild themes

Setting: some time after the No Breaths From Hell oneshot

Synopsis: Upon Momo’s suggestion, Toshiro joins her and a group for a break at a seaside town. However, with his mind is heavy with recent revelations, he wonders why they are all there.

AN: Once again, I’m writing something for both @yearoftheotpevent's challenge and Hitsuhina Week.

This really started as one thing and completely transformed into something else! I was intending to do a short piece about Toshiro and Momo taking some time to relax at a beach, but nope, the angst had to get in there and not only make this fic longer, but change the whole story.

Do I think the Shinigami would actual do this after the events of the No Breaths From Hell one shot? Nope, but I wanted to try it out anyway.

In terms of music while listening I can recommend (in no particular order): Recollection 1-3 , World #07 Blues, going home, and compassion by Shiro Sagisu from the BLEACH osts, And She Translated into Sky by Levi Patel (Spotify or YT) , and Skel and Andra by Sigur Ros (Spotify or YT). If I had to recommend when to listen to these songs, I only three I feel strongly about are listening to And She Translated into Sky, Skel, and Andra in the last section of the fic, where Toshiro and Momo are walking on the beach ;)

Hope you all enjoy it!

__________________________________

Toshiro watches the heat sizzle on the horizon. Despite the sweat dripping down his temple, he doesn’t wave the uchiwa with any vigor. Eventually, he glares at the few clouds in the sky, all too far away to block the sun.

“Why did they have to pick a damn beach of all places?” he grumbles.

He tries to ignore the commotion going on inside, where everyone is trying to decide who is going to stay in which room. He should be in there, but it’ll only irritate him further, and for once it wouldn't just be from everyone’s usual antics and pointless arguing.

It had been a two months, but how can they all be acting like this after what happened?

He tilts his head down and waves his fan faster. He knows everyone has their ways of coping with things, but he'd have thought there would still be some discussion about what happened, even if it was only in passing. Why does it feel like he's the only one stuck on the revelations that came?

The door slides open and Rangiku pokes her head out, looking to the left, and then meeting his gaze when she swivels her head to the right. “There you are! What’re you doing out here?”

Toshiro pushes himself off the wall. “Are you all done in there?” he asks dryly.

“Yeah, everything is sorted.” She grins as if all the arguing hadn’t just occurred. “You know it’s cooler inside, right? When did you leave?”

“Doesn’t matter. Which room am I in?”

Rangiku huffs and steps out of the foyer, closing the door behind her. “I get that it’s hot, Captain, but you really need to relax.”

“I only came because they needed someone to supervise all of you.” That’s not entirely true, and she knows it. It had been Momo who invited him, Rangiku and Granny who encouraged him to accept, and Shunsui who had assigned him and Rukia with watching over everyone – all the while grinning and lamenting that it had been over a decade since Toshiro had a proper holiday in the World of the Living.

“It’s lucky we came at the very beginning of summer, there’s more rooms and not a whole lot of people on the beaches around here. You’ll be able to use Hyourinmaru to your heart’s content.”

“For all of you, you mean.”

“Oh, Captain, don’t be so cruel, I know you’ll use it more for yourself than anyone else!” He goes to rebut while she rummages through her short’s pocket, but he stops when pulls out a key and hands it to him. “Besides, I did a good thing for you! Like you requested, you’ll have a room to yourself with aircon.”

Oh, thank goodness.

“It’s between Madarame and Yumichika’s room and Abarai and Kuchiki’s rooms.”

He wilts. As if the heat isn't bad enough.

_________________________________

Walking into the First Division's main hall, he’s reminded of the days during and after the Quincy invasion. Most of the captains had arrived, but the usual chatter and carrying on is absent.

Iba, who stands closest to the entrance, is the only one who acknowledges his arrival. “Captain Hitsugaya,” he says with a nod.

Toshiro does the same in return as he walks past. "Iba"

Kensei, his arms folded tightly over his chest, leans against a wall next to Shinji, who’s gaze is off to the side, lost in thought. Sui Feng paces from one corner of the room to the other, each time passing Isane, who looks flatly at the ground. Lisa stands in another corner, reading one of her books, her face hidden from view.

Kenpachi, surprisingly on time for once, stands near the meeting hall’s closed doors, his back turned. As Toshiro approaches though, he shifts to look down at him. He grunts in greeting, and looks away. It’s somehow both like him and uncharacteristic of him to act in such a way.

Byakuya and Rukia both arrive, and the quiet discussion they’d been having before dies as soon as they enter the hall. Like him, they’re only greeted by Iba and try to find a place to stand. Byakuya glances at Toshiro and gives a nod. He returns the gesture, and watches as Byakuya and Rukia choose stand next to Isane, who barely manages a smile to Rukia. Both look like they want to say something, but neither speaks.

Toshiro chooses his place, standing near the meeting hall’s entrance but away from Kenpachi. He folds his arms into his sleeves and keeps his gaze on the main hall’s entrance.

The air is tense, and the silence quietly rings in Toshiro’s ears. It’s only broken when Rose and then Mayuri arrive.

The latter starts to speak – what he says Toshiro doesn’t pay attention to but it's enough to make Sui Feng stop and say somethign back to him. Their impending argument is interrupted when the meeting hall’s doors finally open.

Shunsui stands on the other side, his usual smile and casual air nowhere to be seen. Everyone files in and takes their place in the hall. Despite the solemnness of their movements, Toshiro can feel the urgency among them.

They need to discuss what happened. They need answers. How do they stop this? How many of their own had they sent to Hell over these centuries? When would their new enemy next strike? What can they do to defend themselves?

What if this conflict doesn't end like the others? What if they die? What is they have to face their own?

_________________________________

“Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Toshiro blinks out of his revere and lifts his head from his propped-up hand. Momo stands beside the table, smiling and holding a straw hat. He hadn’t even sensed her coming into the lobby.

When the small table fan propels back in his direction, sending a welcomed gust of cold air over his face, he remembers to speak. “Aren’t you going shopping with Matsumoto?”

“Yes, but you should come along too. We can grab some ice cream before we go.”

He scoffs. “Forget it.”

Momo puts her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Hitsugaya-kun, you haven’t left this inn once since we got here!”

“We’ve only been here for a day, dummy.”

“Even so! Don’t you want to see what it’s like around here? It’s been a long time since any of us have been to a new location in the World of the Living.” At his blank stare, she sighs and drops the hand holding her hat to her side while the other points to the left. “At least come out and get some ice cream then. There’s a stall down just down the street.” Then, with a rueful smile. “Besides, you know how long it can take Rangiku-san to get ready.”

He almost lets a chuckle out. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. Even when not looking at her, he can sense Momo’s persistence. She’s always been stubborn, and he’ll never understand why it always came out whenever it involved getting him to go to places he's never been.

He exhales, making a sound between a groan and a sigh. “Fine.”

To his surprise, Momo doesn’t reach out and grab him to drag him outside and down the street. She puts her hat on, waits for him to stand and leads the way out, patient with his slower and sluggish movements. Before leaving the table, Toshiro grabs his uchiwa.

As soon as they step outside, he considers turning back. It’s hotter than this morning, and there isn’t a cloud in sight to cover the sun.

Momo senses his hesitation and gestures towards a stall a short distance away. “It’s just down there.”

Logically, he knows it’s less than a two minute walk to the stall, but did he really want to make the journey?

“I’m pretty sure they have a peppermint flavor.”

That doesn’t really sell him, but he’ll pretend it does. With more irritation than he intends, he grouses, “Let’s just go.”

Thankfully, Momo doesn’t take it personally and giggles. “You really like peppermint, huh?”

“It’s one of the few good flavors for ice cream.”

“Mango and strawberry are good too.”

He only grunts.

Their shoes clack against the pavement, and where possible they stick to the shade of trees and awnings of shops. Save for the few passing cars, the singing of the cicada, and the distant crashing waves, it’s quiet. There are only a few others outside, going about their daily lives.

He fans himself as they walk, but it doesn’t cool him down much. Heat radiates from pavement through to the soles of his shoes, and a sweat is building on his brow. The humans and Momo walk around as if nothing is wrong. How can they stand this heat?

The gust of warm wind certainly doesn’t help matters. It does, however, make him aware of Momo’s hat. On one side of the hat’s band, there’s a cluster of small flowers, coloured different shades of pink and cream, and two short cords a sparkling bead on each end sway to and fro across the brim. It looks like something she would personally pick out, she always had an inclination towards clothes with floral designs on them.

He had picked some of his clothes the week before the trip, but the rest were chosen by Rangiku. He always had an inclination towards darker colours – like the navy blue tank top and grey shorts he wears now - while she always seemed to find the right balance in brighter colours for him. For all of her faults when it came to going nuts on clothes shopping, she always knows what fashionable clothes to buy.

“The others want to go to the beach later,” Momo says. “Are you going to come along? Or is it too hot for you?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Is Kuchiki going?"

"Yes."

"Then I’ll stay back, she can supervise."

He almost goes back on his word at her saddened frown. “Well, it’s supposed to cooler tomorrow," she says. "You’ll come then, right?”

He can't say 'no'. “Sure.”

Once they’re at the stall, he relishes the chill emanating from the glass display and the cool wind of the fan whirling behind the counter. There’s not too many flavours to choose from, mostly just the popular ones.

Momo pouts. “Ah, it’s a shame they ran out of strawberry.”

He points to the mango flavour. “You could just get that.”

She shrugs. “Maybe, but I like to have two different flavous when I can. What do you think would go well with mango?”

Toshiro considers, perusing each flavour. Eventually, he points to the best one he can think of.

Momo snorts, her fingers pressing over lips in an attempt to suppress a giggle. She fails miserably at his incredulous look.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…Peach?”

“It’s sweet, so is the mango.”

“But…did you pick it because of that reason or because it reminds you of -- ?” She starts giggling again.

Why are his cheeks burning? No, this won’t do. He’d honestly picked it because he thought the two would work together. “As if I’d picked it for that reason! We’re not children anymore!”

Realising the commotion they’re causing, and sensing the growing queue behind them, Toshiro is quick to order his two scoops of peppermint ice cream in a cup and storms off to the side, waiting for Momo under the shadow of a table’s umbrella.

Trying to ignore the stares of a few of the humans, he takes the small plastic spoon and digs in. He’s pleasantly surprised; it’s one of the better ice creams he’s had, and it’s quite cold. Gradually, with each spoonful, it has the effect of both cooling him and his annoyance down.

Did she really think he chose peach because of her name? Did it remind her of when they were kids and he’d only remember to buy peaches when she was there? That hadn’t happened since they were very young.

Momo joins him almost a minute later, and they set off back to the inn. She takes a spoonful of each scoop, and he’s about to grumble about the fact she went for his suggestion in the end until she cringes.

Her whole face scrunches up and she makes a sounds between a yelp and a gasp. For a second, he fears she’s hurt. "Wha--?"

"It’s really cold!"

Now it’s his turn to hold in a chuckle. He too fails, and he doesn’t do anything to stop it, even as she complains.

“Oooh! You knew, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” he chortles.

“Just because you have a tolerance for the cold!”

“You’re being childish, Hinamori.”

“I could say the same for you, Shiro-chan. You could’ve warned me!”

“That’s ‘Captain Hitsugaya’, Hinamori.”

Feeling he got the last word in, he smirks and slowly eats his ice cream right in front of her. She half glares at him. It’s not long before she lets out a huff, and what little irritation she had leaves her. "It's not a big deal, I'll just have to take smaller bites, and at least it tastes good.”

They continue on the pavement. Despite her bravado before, she still hestiates when she scoops up smaller bits of ice cream and eats them. He smirks, but otherwise doesn't tease her like before.

For the first time since he got here, he feels himself easing a little, and he looks to the source. Momo always has this effect on him at certain moments, where it was just the two of them and no one would be interrupting them. Maybe it’s seeing her this relaxed and content, it makes him want to be the same. Even as they were at the stall and browsing the ice cream flavours, he didn’t feel the usual apprehension to interacting with the person behind the counter – an old habit from his day in Junrinan, he’d realized years ago – because she was there with him.

It's not enough to lighten his mind of the thoughts that weigh him down, but they don’t churn in his head like waves in a stormy sea. He could put into words what has been bothering him. He could tell her right now, and maybe he’d be lighter. Maybe she’d already know and understand, because maybe she is still thinking about these things too.

“Hinamori…” He trails off when she looks over her shoulder at him. Momo walks in front of him in bright and colourful clothes, nothing like the uniform she takes pride in. She cradles the cup of mango and peach ice cream that’s already starting to melt. Her cheeks are flushed – or sunburned, he dreads – and up until now she’d been smiling. The little flowers and cord on her hat flutter in the wind, small and strangely fragile.

He walks past her. “Forget about it.”

She quickly comes in front of him and asks, “What is it?”

It’s rare for her to prod. Had he detected a hint of desperation in her voice? Had she noticed something in him and had been wanting to ask? He wouldn’t put it past her, she and Rangiku both have that uncanny ability to sense when he’s off kilter even when he doesn’t show it.

But now is not the time to tell her.

“Just make sure Matsumoto doesn’t spend too much, she could end up using Division funds.”

He maintains a stoic exterior in the face of her small, unconvincing smile. “Of course.”

_________________________________

A stick of incense had already been lit; someone else had visited Jushiro's gave before him. It won’t be long before it’s completely burnt out.

Toshiro makes his prays while the incense still burns, putting his hands together, closing his eyes, and bowing his head.

But what can he say? No words or sentiments come to mind. Not even hopes or wishes.

He does, however, recall a few memories of Jushiro. The first of when he first met the older captain; his long, white hair was tied back and he looked less pale than when Toshiro last saw him. He remembers the bags under his eyes getting progressively more prominent, and his absence from meetings becoming more frequent. At some point, the hair tie disappeared. His smile and optimism though, that only vanished in dire situations, but they always returned with as much mirth and sincerity as soon as the problem has been resolved.

How sharply those two things stood in contrast to what had transpired at this very spot.

Toshiro recalls with a repressed shiver the Jigoku no Rinki that had floated in the air around the grave just a week ago. A sign that the balance had been tipped, that Hell held enough power to break the peace. And they gave them that power. It was the price they all paid for becoming as strong as they did. This was the price they paid for allowing Aizen to grow as powerful as he did, and for imprisoning him when he was one of the beings keeping the balance from tipping. The irony sickens him.

He opens his eyes. Why is he here? Could Jushiro even hear prayers from where he is?

To think Souls like Jushiro are ending up there, fighting against all of it’s creatures and victims. He had no way of warning them of what they’ve been doing all of these centuries. What had he endured?

He can't keep the other possibility from turning over in his mind, and it makes his stomach churn. What if he isn't fighting against the creatures of Hell, but had become one of them?

Ichigo had told the captains what he'd seen who he'd fought against. Amongst his recollections was Sogyo no Kotowari, but the description he gave was not like the bankai Toshiro knew. It sounded warped and elongated to the point of being unnatural. He’s certain Hell had altered the former captain in more than just his bankai. How much has his appearance changed? Would he recognize Jushiro if saw him?

And not for the first time, Toshiro wonders if he will have to cross blades with him.

_________________________________

“Goodnight, sir,” Rangiku says while leaning on Momo and Hisagi. “Call if you need anything.”

Toshiro, his back turned to her, rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “We’re back at the inn, Matsumoto. Why would I need to call you?”

Rangiku giggles. “I didn’t mean on the phone!”

Momo laughs nervously. “But then he’d wake up everyone else, Rangiku-san.”

Rangiku considers for a moment, her head swaying from one side to the other. “…Oh yeah.”

“You sure drank a lot, huh?” Hisagi says.

“Hey, you drank too!” Rangiku retorts.

He chuckles. “Yeah, but not as much as you!”

Even in the dark, Toshiro can see the flush in his lieutenant and the Ninth Division's cheeks. He knows for Rangiku it's the sake, but for Hisagi it's a guess between the alcohol or from being that close to Rangiku.

Why am I even paying attention to this? Toshiro wonders.

Mercifully, they reach Momo and Rangiku’s room.

“Thank you again for paying for dinner, Captain Hitsugaya,” Hisagi says with a bow of his head.

Momo smiles at Toshiro. “Yes, thank you Hitsu – Captain Hitsugaya.” She waves her free hand. “Goodnight, and sleep well.”

Toshiro gives her a half-hearted wave back and half turns away.

Hisagi opens their door and helps Momo get Rangiku into the room as she groans about having drank too much. He comes out a few seconds later, closing the door behind him and walking into the room just opposite.

Toshiro remains in the hallway after Hisagi shuts his door. Save for a few shuffles in Momo and Rangiku’s room, the faint snoring from Ikkaku and Yumichika’s room down the hall, and the waves crashing in the distance, it’s dead quiet.

He should go to bed, but goes back the way he came, coming down to the ground floor and then out into the back courtyard. There are tables and chairs scattered throughout, some with umbrellas and others not. Beyond them, a railing lines a wooden deck that extends out to give a view of the main beach in the distance. Beneath him, only the streetlights, outdoor lanterns, and neon signs of bars, restaurants, and a convenience store illuminate the town.

He goes to the railing and rests his forearms along the top. The moon is a crescent, and he can still make out the tide crashing and receding. For the first time since he got here, it’s quiet. He’d longed for a moment like this, by himself and in cooler conditions. He thought it would be what he needed, but as he looks out over the town, it doesn’t take long for his mind to wonder. None of the humans here - or anywhere for that matter - truly know what is happening. If they did, how would they react?

His mind recalls the few times he was sent on a mission to the World of the Living, believing he was saving their world and keeping the balance. His subordinates would've felt the same, he imagines. Are they working on the reports he and Rangiku left behind right now? Are the captains and lieutenants still working to try and find out more about Hell? What if Hell is planning an attack? What if he -- ?

He shakes his head, then lets it fall to rest on his arms.

He pivots his mind to what had happened just a few hours ago. With the exception of Rukia and Ichika, they’d all gone to a shokudo for dinner. Rangiku had gotten started early on the sake, encouraging Hisagi, Ikkaku, and Renji to join her. It didn’t take long for the four of them to be carrying on, quibbling one minute then laughing together the next. He sat next to Rindou, who signed to him and the others about the food and what he had done today at the beach and in the town. Opposite them, Momo sat between Nanao and Kiyone, but every now and then she would glance in his direction. When he caught her, she’d either smile and return her focus to either Nanao or Kiyone, or she’d ask him something: ‘What did you order to drink?’, ‘How’s your dinner?’, and ‘Do you need extra ice?’.

It was a light-hearted atmosphere, but far removed from how he felt. Again, he wonders how they can act like this after everything they’d seen and heard. he almost had the urge to scream at them. Why weren't they discussing what they'd learnt? Why weren't they back at the Soul Society doing something about this?

But more than that, as he’d stared into his dinner, and as he glares at his feet now, he wonders why he can’t be like them. He can carry on professionally, continuing with paperwork and scheduling and leading his division, but outside of that…

He’d struggled in a similar way with the peace, always hypervigilant of a new threat that could appear after the war against the Quincy. He wishes he’d never lost that feeling, then maybe he wouldn’t feel as though he were struggling to stay afloat.

With a sigh through his nose, he straightens and walks back to his room. He doesn't plan to go to sleep, he knows he'll just be staring at the ceiling. He'll take Hyourinmaru, go somewhere secluded, and train.

_________________________________

“Why do you persist in coming here every week?”

Toshiro stays placid in the face of Mayuri’s irritation. The Twelfth Division captain hasn’t looked over at him, too focused on the readings a console produces.

Around them, there’s six division members busily doing the same, but two whisper their findings to each other and note them down on clipboards. However, every now and then, each officer glances over in the direction of the two captains. The only Soul who doesn’t is Nemu, who sits next to Akon and watches him as he types things into the system and explains to her what he's doing.

While being led to see Mayuri by Akon just a few minutes ago, Toshiro noticed in other lab rooms how frantic the officers were. They spoke in clipped whispers, and were quick to turn their backs when they realized he was passing by. By comparison, this lab is calm.

Toshiro folds his arms into his sleeves. “Perhaps it would be best if we speak in your office, Kurotsuchi.”

“And why should we do that?”

With a final glance to the others in the room, he says, “I’m checking for any updates on the de-zombification side effects.”

Now Mayuri whips around to him, his headpiece almost hitting the back of Akon’s head; neither his lieutenant or Nemu flinch. “And it’s as I’ve said: we’re still investigating all avenues.” The Twelfth Division Captain thrusts a hand to his console. “As is, we have more urgent matters at hand. Hell has made itself known, and we have been tasked with investigating how the Jigoku no Rinki was able to appear here, among other things. As a captain of Gotei Thirteen, you must say this take precedence, correct?”

Toshiro withholds a glare, because of course Mayuri is right. He should leave it there, just thank him for his time and go, but he’s lost his patience. “It’s been over ten years,” he whispers.

“And you rarely asked me about progress in those years,” Mayuri retorts, choosing to not lower his voice in return. “Suddenly, you’re in here every week and disrupting our work as a result.”

“It’s not my intention, Kurotsuchi.”

“Then explain yourself, if you would be so kind.” His voice is almost venomous, but Toshiro doesn’t back down.

He closes the gap between them and keeps his voice quiet. “The last progress you made was over three years ago, and it got shelved when the last solution failed to produce any results. As far as I’m aware, you haven’t explored any other options since, or if you have, you have not made me or Matsumoto aware of them.”

“Are you questioning my rigor? Are you not grateful anymore that I saved you and your lieutenant?”

“You know I am. If not for you, we would’ve died there and then. I am simply asking why you haven’t --”

“Then leave it be! How dare you make demands when I have done that much for you!”

“Matsumoto doesn’t have much longer left to live!”

Mayuri’s annoyance alleviates somewhat, his frown deepening and turning into one of confusion. After a pause, he speaks more quietly. “It’s not her you’re concerned for though, is it, Captain?”

That catches Toshiro off guard, and he grunts in surprise. Of course he’s concerned for Rangiku, and up until now he’d had little regard for his own life being shortened. He’d willingly take the price it paid, for better or worse.

Since Hell had made itself known, however, he’d been on edge. He’d let the anxiety he kept pushing down and simmering away get the better of him. If he dies in combat now, the Soul Society would have no choice but to perform a Konso Reisai twelve years after his passing. Could they find a way to return the balance by then? He would've once unequivocally said ‘yes’, but after everything that happened, from betrayals in their own ranks to the return of the Quincy, he didn’t know anymore. If they had given Hell so much power without realizing all of these years, just how long would it take to restore the balance between all the worlds?

He has no doubt Mayuri is investigating all of this, trying to determine the best course of action for Shunsui and the rest of the Gotei Thirteen. But when would it happen? What if it took too long? What will become of him and Rangiku?

“Master Mayuri.”

Both captains look towards Nemu. The young Soul appears as neutral as her voice had been, but her hand is fisted into the sleeve of Akon’s uniform. The Twelfth Division lieutenant’s attention had also been diverted away from the console, and he looks between his captain and Toshiro, waiting for someone to speak.

Mayuri huffs, his anger cooling a fraction. “By my estimates, you and Lieutenant Matsumoto have well over a hundred and fifty years left. We have time to find a remedy and restore your lost lifespan.” He levels Toshiro with a hardened gaze. “If you continue to come here for any reason other than findings towards any of our research on Hell, I will have no choice but to report this to the Captain-Commander. Are we clear?”

To Toshiro’s surprise, he actually waits for his answer. He has no choice, and withholding a cringe, he nods.

Satisfied, Mayuri turns away and waves a hand towards the lab’s entrance. “Akon, escort him out of the division.”

“Yes, sir.”

Toshiro remains rooted to the spot for a moment longer. It’s useless, he knows, but he somehow hopes Mayuri will change his mind, will give him even an inkling into anything he’s found.

Toshiro follows Akon out. Neither say anything as they walk down the corridor.

It’s not her you’re concerned for though, is it, Captain?

How had he known? Did Mayuri have the same fears? That he will perish sooner rather than later, and he too could be forced into Hell if they do not find a solution to restoring the balance between all the worlds? It’s hard to imagine someone like him worrying about such things.

But then, he did have Nemu, and for all of his faults and failings, he was treating this Nemu better than the last.

Toshiro shakes his head. Everything seems wrong. Because if Mayuri Kurotsuchi of all people can understand what he’s going through, then the world has surely gone mad.

He knows as soon as he leaves here, he’ll go train. It’s the best way to deal with the pent-up emotions. It's the only way he can think of deal with their current predicament. If he can become stronger, somehow further refine his bankai and shikai. He'll become an unstoppable force, one that could protect the Soul Society from Hell.

_________________________________

Ichika’s laughter comes through the walls. Despite the fact it was the reason for his rude awakening, Toshiro’s oddly relieved to hear it. He’d seen her in the aftermath of Hell’s invasion of the World of Living; she was pale and quiet, clinging to Renji so tight her knuckles were white. She also hadn’t bothered him with spontaneous visits to the Tenth Division office since the incident.

Regardless, after two weeks, she was running around and causing mischief like always – at least according to Ikkaku and Renji. Children have that ability to bounce back, even in times of uncertainty. He remembers when he could do it, but it is a trait that has slowly faded over time.

Toshiro groans as he sits up. A tiny sliver of daylight piercing his room through the curtains. He checks his denreishikai; it’s just after eight in the morning. He’s usually up with the sun, but being on this holiday in this God forsaken heat continues to make him sluggish.

He rises from his bed and goes to the wind to draw the curtains back. At least the clouds are back today. He has a view of the biggest beach in the area, and judging from the gleam one person’s head gives off, he guesses it’s Ikkaku doing laps in the ocean; Yumichika probably isn’t far from him, likely being one of the people sitting under a beach umbrella.

If they’re already there, then the others are likely not far behind. As if on cue, he hears Renji and Ichika leaving their room, excitedly chattering about going down to the beach. As they pass his room, Rukia comments on her husband’s clothing – “Did you pick that shirt? And what does ‘Sun’s out, guns out’ mean?” – but Toshiro doesn’t hear the rest over Ichika’s laughter.

He glances at the bag Hyourinmaru is hidden away in. He briefly recalls his training from last night - not that he was able to do much without drawing unwanted attention from locals. He'd practiced his zanjutsu in a forested area on the other side of town, and had returned to inn in the early hours of the morning. At least it had tired him out enough to make him fall asleep.

With a long exhale, he focuses back on today. If he’s going to use his zanpakuto while at the beach, he’ll have to be discreet about it; and he has no doubt the others will be clamoring for him to make shaved-ice.

He goes to the bathroom, which is several degrees warmer than his room. After showering and getting changed into a shirt and a pair of board shorts, there’s a knock on his door.

“Captain, are you awake yet?” Rangiku asks in a singsong tone.

Toshiro sighs. All of this cheerfulness is too much after just waking up. “Yeah.”

She opens the door, but she’s not alone.

“We’ve got your breakfast here, Hitsugaya-kun.” Momo holds out a plastic bag and takeaway coffee cup. “I just chose what I thought you’d might like, I hope that’s okay.”

Rangiku enters his room, but stops only a few steps in. “Captain, it’s freezing in here!” she complains, rubbing her bare arms. “How do you stand it?”

“It’s hot,” is all he says as comes over to them. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“We figured you could do with a sleep in,” Rangiku says. “It’s so rare that it happens, and you’re on a break, you’re supposed to do things like that.”

“I’m supposed to be supervising over all of you.”

“Supervising,” Rangiku says under breath with a sigh. “Honestly, Captain.”

“So is Captain Kuchiki,” Momo says at the same time. “Honestly, Hitsugaya-kun, it’s okay to relax even when you’ve been assigned to watch over us.”

He shakes his head. “In any event, what’s happening today? I assume you’re all going down to the beach?”

_________________________________

Toshiro watches Granny hanging the washing. He’d tried to help her, but she’d waved him off and told him to go rest inside.

“You hardly ever get a break these days,” she said. “You’re such a hard worker, but you should rest more often.”

He'd made a pot of tea, and by the time she’s done it’ll be cool enough for her to drink. He'd also set up a bowl of amanatto and placed it next to the clay cups on the tray.

As he waits, he fiddles with one of his old spinning tops. He’d dug it out from the closet, buried behind futon mattresses and other things from his childhood. He still doesn’t understand why Granny keeps most of it, she’s always been a practical person who hates clutter.

He slowly wraps the cord around the top of the toy, but never releases it. He holds it loosely in his fingers, but his gaze remains on Granny. She bends down to her basket and pulls out another sheet to hang. In isolation, it's a peaceful image.

Her life rarely changes. She still goes to the same stalls and shops for food and household supplies. She still drinks the same tea blends, washes the same clothes and linens, and wakes up and goes to sleep at the same times every day.

Her life is simpe and despite it’s repetitiveness, it’s unplanned. Things are just the way they are, and they work for her.

For the first time in decades, he wishes he could return to that life. Even with all the negatives that came with it, compared to life he leads now, it’s peaceful and far less complicated.

He planned things to a fault, he should’ve known it would be his downfall one day; or at least, lead to disappointment when something came and ruined everything. Of course the peace couldn’t last, something had to disrupt it. Life is never the same, it's never consistent. How long had he expected it to go on for?

But that was the thing. He never made plans for the peace, he had simply lived in it. It was almost like his life before he became a captain, only with more responsibilities he could handle.

Granny turns to him after hanging up the last of the washing. Her smile widens when she spots the teapot and bowl of amanatto. He can’t help but smile back despite the growing heaviness within him.

He doesn't plan to tell her about Hell yet. He won’t break this peace for her.

_________________________________

It’s far too hot, even under the shade.

Toshiro lies his head and torso over the picnic table, a cup half filled with melting shaved ice in one hand and a spoon in the other. The shelter above and around him is made of wood and obstructs the view of onlookers that weren’t on the beach. Combined with having so few humans around, it allows him to discreetly use his zanpakuto to make shaved ice in one of it's corner.

Rangiku had gone out and bought bottles of syrup, paper cups, and wooden spoons from a nearby convenience store. All of it is stored in a freezer bag along with a bucket of the ice he’d conjured up five minutes ago. Hyournmaru lies out of sight in his own bag, but the cold flowing form the blade brushes along the floor of the shelter, cooling his feet and ankles. He considered himself a glorified placeholder for the table, and so long as he is here, no humans would come along and accidentally spot his weapon.

With some effort, he raises himself to take another spoonful of slushy ice and munches on it. He watches the group on the beach, all doing various things. Ikkaku and Hisagi race each other, doing several laps in the ocean. If it weren’t for the heat bearing down on him above and the hot sand between the shade and the ocean, he’d be doing laps himself.

He slides his gaze over to Kazui and Ichigo, both wading into the water while Orihime collected seashells along the shoreline ; they’d taken the train to come down for the day. Orihime finds a shell that makes her grin and she jogs to the Abarai family. Ichika makes a sandcastle with Rukia, giggling when Renji comes up behind her with a wreath of seaweed and tickles her with it before draping it over one of the walls. It’s then Orihime gets their attention and hands them a few seashells to decorate another wall.

Further up the beach, Nanao walks up to Rangiku, who sunbathes on a towel. She lectures Rangiku about something -- likely the fact she's sunbathing in the first place -- and his lieutenant squints up at her in response. Yumichika, relaxing under an umbrella, makes a comment which makes Rangiku snap at him and Nanao wearily rolls her head to one side.

Rindo, Momo and Kiyone had gone for a walk up the beach to the rockpools. Toshiro spots them as specks in the distance, and the footprints they'd left behind are gradually washed away every time the waves surge in.

He takes another spoonful of shaved ice, then eases back down to the table and begins to doze off. There’s only the darkness beneath his eyelids, the crashing of waves, the hot breeze that blows through, Hyourinmaru's cold circling around his ankles and the distant voices of the Shinigami and humans. He can’t relax, ending up in a state between being awake and on the verge of napping.

It’s twenty minutes later when he’s startled by a call of his name. He opens his eyes and turns his head just in time to see Kazui and Ichika racing towards him. He lets go of his completely melted shaved ice to raise himself up.

“Captain Hitsugaya!” Kazui calls out again, grinning.

“He heard you the first time, dummy!” Ichika chastises.

He thinks to lecture her about calling Kazui a dummy -- it seems like the responsible thing to do -- but someone beats him to it.

“Don’t call Kazui-chan bad names, Ichika-chan!” Momo calls out from behind. She pants and tries to keep her hat on as she rushes to catch up to them.

Ichika blushes slightly in shame, but otherwise doesn’t respond. Kazui isn't phased, his grin still in place.

With as much energy as he can muster, Toshiro lazily waves his hand in greeting before the children come to a stop in the shelter. “Babysitting?” he says to Momo.

She shakes her head. “They just happened to be on their way to see you too.”

He returns his attention to Kazui and Ichika. “You two looking for some shaved ice?”

They both nod eagerly.

“Papa said you make the best shaved ice ever,” Ichika says.

I’m the only one here who can, he thinks. He only grunts as he twists around to the freezer bag. The ice had gotten more slushy, but it's still usable. “Which flavours do you want?”

“Watermelon!” they say in unison.

Toshiro smirks. “Good choice.”

He takes out the syrup and puts it on the table, then scoops two cups into the ice and sticks a spoon in each. He hands them over to the children. “It’s all yours.”

As expected, they go crazy with the syrup, completely dying the ice red. Momo intervenes before it can get too messy, making sure most of the flavoring stays in the cups.

“You two should eat that under the shade,” she says, pointing at the umbrellas Yumichika and Nanao rest under. “And make sure you bring the empty cups back here, okay?”

Toshiro withholds a chuckle. Since when is she their mother?

Ichika and Kazui both nod to Momo, then turn back to Toshiro.

“Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya,” Kazui says with a quick bow of his head.

Ichika does likewise. “Thank you!”

He waves a hand. "Enjoy, I guess."

They take that as their cue to run off. They go to Yumichika and Rangiku, who both cease their argument when the children arrive and make room for them under the umbrellas.

He turns to Momo, but she’s still watching Ichika and Kazui. She's flushed across her cheeks and shoulders, and sand dusts her shins and sandaled feet. Strangely, he senses hesitation from her, as though she is nervous about turning to face him. It’s in her posture, which though looking relaxed to most, has the signs she’s trying to hide. Her arms are loosely braced over her midsection, and her shoulders are a few inches higher than normal.

“You want one too?” he asks, getting her attention.

Momo shakes her head, smiling. “Oh, no, I was just coming to see how you were doing.”

He ignores the small, warm flutter her concern sends through his chest and takes an empty cup out of the bag. “You might as well have one.”

She considers for a moment. “…Well, it is getting hotter.”

“Orange, lime, or watermelon? Matsumoto didn’t buy mango and the strawberry is empty.”

“You remembered?”

He hides his embarrassment by saying nothing and stooping lower than necessary to fill up the cup with ice.

From behind, she giggles. “In that case, orange please.”

He fishes out the syrup and a spoon before he twists back around and hands everything to her.

“I’m sure everyone appreciates you doing this,” she says while pouring the syrup.

“Feels like that the main reason I’m here,” he mutters drily.

“That’s not true!”

“I didn’t mean it, dummy.”

She makes a sound between a sigh and a chuckle. “Now who’s calling people bad names.”

He rests back down on the table, watching as she takes a spoonful of orange ice and chomps down on it. She gives an appreciative hum and her smile turns into a grin. “Thank you, Shiro-chan.”

And despite her old habit, he’s certain if he were in a better mood he’d give her a small smile in return. “Captain Hitsugaya.”

She continues to eat as if she hadn’t heard him.

It feels like this is where their interaction should end, that she should walk off back to the others. She stays rooted to the spot, and it’s unnatural to him.

“You didn’t have to come check on me,” he says.

She pauses, staring down into the shaved ice. “I know.”

Why did it sound like she’d taken his comment as a jab? His frown deepens. “Weren’t you going to the rockpools before?”

“Yeah, but Rindou-kun and Kotetsu-san wanted to go out further than I intended.” She raises a foot and wriggles her toes. “I wasn’t wearing the right shoes to go with them.”

She isn’t lying, but he senses there’s more to it. As he considers whether to prod any further, she suddenly stops eating, sticking the spoon into the ice. “Have you just been lying here all day?”

He shrugs. “More or less.”

“But that’s no good. You should have something to do here!” She shakes her head. “The majority voted for a beach, but...maybe we should’ve gone somewhere else.”

“Why do you…?” Why does that strike a nerve within him? Why did she feel the need to make sure he is having a good time here? She didn’t belong under the shade, she loves the sun and places like this; most Shinigami did.

Why is he even here?

He gives a frustrated grunt. “Just go back to the others already.”

At her widened, alarmed eyes, he realizes he’d said it with the irritation he'd been trying to hide and with more strictness than he’d intended. Damn this heat! No, he can’t blame it on the weather. He’d let the heaviness in his mind get the better of him, and the uncertainty about why they are here.

He forces himself back up, ignoring the strain in his arms. After a beat, he begins to apologise. “I didn’t mean --”

She lays a hand on his. She curls her fingers loosely around his wrist, a silent way of saying he can remove himself from her grasp. Her hand is colder than usual, thanks to the shaved ice. But had they always been this small? How had he only just noticed it?

“I get it. I know the heat gets to you,” Momo says. She looks out to the sea for a pause before continuing. “I-I know it’s not much, but in the evening, it’ll be cooler. If you want to and you’re up for it, we can come back here and walk along the beach after dinner.”

“Why do you want to do that?”

“Because you deserve to enjoy the beach too.”

I don’t even like beaches, is what he’d say aloud, but he won’t.

"And…" She purses her lips, and her cheeks become a shade darker. "We're friends, aren't we? I want to spend some time with my friends. Don't you want to do the same?"

There’s that look, the one she always had when she tried to help others. He’ll never tell her how much it meant to him to see she was still capable of showing that gaze after everything she went through.

At his lack of a response, her gaze flutters to the ground. “I mean, if you’d rather be alone, then that’s okay too. Just so long as you’re able to enjoy yourself.”

“No.” He gentle extracts his hand from her grasp. She raises her head, confused.

It’s then he feels how tired he is. It’s not lethargy from the heat, it’s something deeper. Something that was the result of holding back too much, and maybe, as she waits for him to elaborate, it’s time she knew about it. “We’ll go together.”

His heart clenches at the stunned softness in her eyes. Eventually, she smiles. “Okay.”

“Oi, Hinamori-san!”

Both turn to look in the direction of Hisagi, who waves to her. “We’re doing the race now!”

“I’ll be there!” she calls back. Then to Toshiro. “I promised them I’d be the time keeper for a race they’re doing.”

Toshiro watches Hisagi, Ikkaku, Renji, Ichigo, Kazui, and Ichika all gather together on the sand. Nanao stands off to the side a small towel in her hand – probably the as a flag to signal for them to start. Rangiku uses the end of an umbrella to draw a long line in the sand.

Toshiro doesn’t see the point of racing on a beach, especially in this heat and with all of their abilities, so all he has to offer is, “Whatever keeps them entertained.”

Momo backs out of the shelter, and with the spoon still in her mouth, says something to the effect of, “I’ll see you later.”

He watches on as Momo rushes down and takes her place next to Nanao, who hands her a stop watch.

Kazui quickly eats the rest of his shaved ice, while it seems Ichika had passed hers to Rukia. She and Renji are amping each other up, but Ichika bursts into laughter.

I want to spend some time with my friends. Don't you want to do the same?

They've never been a normal group, but this seems in character for all of them. For the first time since coming here , Toshiro has a fleeting sentiment that he's glad they can act like they always do despite what looms over them.

_________________________________

He’s rarely wondered about the future. He always did schedules for division-related activities, and would keep appointments made in mind when planning his week or month. But he never thought of any of these things beyond what was necessary. He never considered what his own future held.

There were only four instances he can think of when he pondered on what lay ahead for him: the first was when he had to leave Granny to go to the Academy, the second was when he'd been appointed captain of the Tenth Division, the third was while he recovered from his injuries after Aizen’s defeat, and the fourth was in first few months after the war against the Quincy ended.

He’s always considered himself someone who lives in the present, who only plans for the future if the present shows him he needs to. Even then, he only went as far as he needed to, never going beyond into the 'what ifs' that weren't related to the task at hand.

Lately, he wonders how the buildings around him will change as the years go by. Will they need repairs from unprecedented weather events? Will they be renovated to look different? Will the Tenth Division get another barracks as it’s forces grow in numbers?

He wonders how tall the trees in his division will grow, and if any of them will have to be cut down.

He also wonders what beings he has yet to meet. Unless Ichigo and Orihime plan to have another child, he doubts there will be more than three humans he'll ever have to introduce himself to. He keeps away from the Arrancar where possible, but he's certain there's Souls still out there he will cross paths with more than once. What new recruits will have to introduce himself to? Will any of the captains retire and be replaced?

He wonders when Hyourinmaru’s Completed form will become his true bankai, where he will no longer have to wait for the petals to fall. He wonders if the transformation will ever be less painful or strainious.

He wonders when Hell will make it’s next move. In the next year? Or month? Or week? Or tomorrow? He can see Jushiro's bankai elongating out of Hell's gates, a grotesque distortion of what they were all once familiar with. How did the rest of him look? Would he remember who any of them were? And if he did, would he resent them for what they unknowingly did?

He wonders how much longer Granny and Rangiku have to live.

He wonders how much longer he has left.

Prior to the completed form, he could never picture how he’d looked as an adult. In a strange way, it’s as if the world has told him he won’t make it, that he will only transform into that age but not live to experience it. He can’t picture Rangiku as being older than she is, or any of the his fellow Shinigami for that matter.

That of course included Momo, who sits in front of him, talking while putting paperwork in front of him. He hasn’t heard a word she’s said. Even though he can’t picture her as an adult, he’s mostly certain she has a future as one. One where she smiles often, and still calls him ‘Shiro-chan’ because old habits die hard. She still sees Renji and Izuru for the occasional meet up, and goes with Rangiku to bars and carries her back to the Tenth Division barracks. She starts a bigger literature club, where members will talk about the books they’ve read and she will make sure everyone gets a chance to talk. He can see her taking up painting on top of the drawing she already does, and her room will have the faint smell of paints and drawing charcoal.

Maybe there would’ve been a time he could see himself there too, but that window seems to get narrower and narrower the heavier these thoughts make him feel.

“Are you all right?”

Toshiro tries to keep his reaction muted, but a startled gasp still leaves him when her hand comes over his forearm. He’s about to come up with some excuse, but her concern softens him.

“You weren’t here, were you?” she says.

He looks at the paperwork, unable to deny it.

She glances down her hand, and appears surprised she touched him. She's quick to lean back, but her hand slides off his arm and remains close by. “What’s on your mind?”

The top line of the document in front of him reads ‘Agenda for joint training session 34’. He takes a stab at what she was saying before. “It’s nothing to worry about, just trying to figure out schedules for the next three months. If we try to do a joint training session next month, it will have to be in the first week.”

Her brow twitches, trying to not frown. Her eyes search his, but again he looks down at the paperwork.

“Yes, of course.”

It’s as she says this that he realizes the document has nothing to do with a joint training session for his division. It was for one with Third Division; she likely showed him as an example of what they could do next time for a kido training session.

He bites the inside of his cheek, ashamed. He's supposed to be a captain, where was his focus?

He waits for her to correct him. Then she’ll try to pry it all out of him, because she always wants to knows what’s on his mind. He doesn’t want to snap at her, would never do such a thing under any circumstances. But this weight, these thoughts, they were beginning to take up more space within him. He doesn’t know how he’ll react to her trying to navigate through them with him.

“Captain,” she says, surprising him enough to make him look up. Her smile is small and unsure, but she persists. “Actually, I didn’t just come here to discuss training sessions. The Women’s Association is looking to fund a vacation to the World of the Living. It’s a chance for everyone to have a break from work, we haven’t had a proper one in over ten years, right?”

“Why are you bringing this up?”

Her smile almost wobbles away, but she finds the strength to not only keep it in place, but to widen it too. “I’m inviting you to come along.”

________________________________

Compared to the afternoon, the sand is cooler under Toshiro’s feet. He strolls down to the sea, hands in his pockets and head bowed. Momo is behind him, but she pauses every now and then pick up seashells.

He doesn’t stop until he reaches the shoreline. The last sliver of the sun disappears over the horizon, colouring the sky dark blues and purples. A lone boat travels across the waves to a nearby dock. Behind him, a few cars whizz by and people go out for the night to bars and restaurants. Rangiku and a few of the others are among them, going to a izakaya tonight for dinner and drinks. He can already imagine how silly they’ll be acting by the time he and Momo rejoin them later tonight on the way back to the inn.

With a shake of his head, he turns his attention to the waves lapping at his toes. The next surge sends a wave over his feet. The froth of the sea spins around his ankles and the cold of the water tingles across his skin before receding away, only to return seconds later. It’s oddly relaxing, and he’s entranced by the motions of the waves. They come and go, come and go, never ceasing. It’s been like this for millions of years, since before he or anyone he knows were ever born. It has a beginning but no ending in sight.

It’s the first time he’s been at peace since the revelations about Hell came to light. Even so, the unease threatens to bubble up from the pit of his stomach. For even if there is no end in sight he can see, the ocean will vanish one day, whether it be Hell being strong enough to destroy this world, or a more natural end much further down the line.

So caught up in this, he doesn’t register Momo approaching until she’s by his side, and flinches when she speaks.

“There’s already so many stars out,” she marvels.

Thankfully, her is gaze on the dusk sky. Gone is her hat and hair ties, allowing the breeze lightly tussles her hair around her shoulders and back. She wears a shirt rolled up to the sleeves, and a bright orange summer dress beneath it. In one hand she holds her sandals, and shells in the other.

Indeed, stars glimmer down at them. Being this far away from the lights of the town, there’s more of them then he usually accustomed to in the World of the Living, and constellations he’s never seen before.

“I can see the pear.” Momo points to a cluster of stars on the right. “Remember that one?”

One of the many silly constellations they made up as children. “If that’s somehow it, it still doesn’t look like a pear.”

“Yeah it does! There’s the stem, and there’s the rest!” As she says this, she traces her finger over each star to map it out for him. “Its just upside down.”

He shakes his head. “You always had a strange imagination.”

She scoffs. “It’s called being creative.” After a moment, she tilts her head to one side. “I didn’t think it would show up in the World of the Living.”

“Our sky isn’t much different from there’s.”

“I guess not.”

The mood has lightened slightly, but the silence that follows is filled with the crashing of waves. They can remain like this, but like earlier today, it doesn’t feel natural. He turns to her, but she still has her eyes on the stars. He can leave her to be like this, oblivious to what is going on beneath the surface.

“Hinamori.” He has her attention now. He unknowingly takes in a deep breath as his stomach clenches, but he can’t stand not knowing anymore. “Why did you invite me to this?”

The question doesn’t catch her off guard like he expected it to. Instead, she tucks the shells she’d collected into one of her shirt pockets and glides her foot through the water. “It’s a shame we all couldn’t be here, and I know what happened is still on all of our minds, but it’s good to see those who did are relaxing a little. The last few months have been tough, and we all deserve to have a break from it. To step away for a little while.” She smiles wistfully. “That’s why I invited you to come. Even though it’s at a beach, and even though it’s only for a few days, I thought it would be good to spend time with you, Rangiku-san, Nanao-san, Abarai-kun, and the others away from what’s been bothering us.”

He thought hearing her say he wasn’t the only one thinking about the revelations about Hell would reassure him, but it only serves to annoy him. He’s no fool, he knows the others hadn’t forgotten about what happened, but why use their time here of all places? They can’t have moved on, this was too insurmountable to move on from.

“Aren’t we just running away?” He hadn’t meant to voice the question aloud, and it makes Momo's brow furrow.

His voice rises as he continues. “Shouldn’t we be using this time to plan for Hell’s next attack? We know nothing about their strategy. They’ve done nothing since Ukitake’s Konso Reisai, andKurotsuchi keeps investigating, but nothing ever comes up. We’re just here, doing nothing about it.” He throws his hands out to the sides. “We didn’t even know what we’ve been doing to our former captains this whole time!”

Momo shakes her head and braces her arm across her torso, her hand holding her opposite elbow. “We couldn’t have known.”

“But now we do! And what now? We’ll go to battle, that’s for certain, but what if this battle doesn’t end like the others?”

“That we’ll lose?”

“No, not even that. That we’ll be fighting Hell for decades. The first war against the Quincy lasted years, Hinamori. What if this battle is the same? What if we lose more captains, and we’ll have no choice but to perform Konso Reisai for all of them?”

“You…really think the conflict would last that long?”

“I don’t know, and that’s…” He let’s out an exasperated breath. He’s never like this, shouting and venting his thoughts, and that only frustrates him even more. “We need something concrete! We need direction, and we won’t get that unless we’re working on it back in the Soul Society. Hell must be doing this deliberately, it's a psychological tactic to weaken us."

She looks at him in confusion and worry, an expression that would normally cool his anger and makes him reassess what he'd said. But he's in too far now, he won't stop.

“You saw Sogyo no Kotowari.”

She frowns, likely wondering where this is going. “Only at a glance. Kurosaki-san saw it up close.”

“But his description fit what you saw, yes?”

She nods solemnly. “I thought I was seeing things, but when I got back to the Soul Society and found out what was happening with the Konso Reisai, it suddenly made sense.”

“Ukitake impaled that Espada, but we don’t know for what reason. We don’t know if he is on our side or not. If he isn’t, if everyone we have sent to Hell this whole time isn’t, we’re going to have to face them.”

The grip on her arm tightens. “I know.”

“I won't to become like Ukitake,” he says fiercely, bordering on a growl. “I won't become warped. If I have to fight him and the others, then so be it. But I won't to become like them. I don’t want to…”

“What makes you think you’ll die before the conflict is over?” she asks.

He doesn't answer, can't answer as his throat tightens.

Her hand drops back to her side as she leans forward. “You won’t die, Shiro-chan.”

“How can you know that?” he struggles to get out.

“Because you’re one of the strongest Shinigami I know, in skill, in your bond with your zanpakuto, and in fortitude.” Her eyes become glassy and her voice gets increasingly louder. “Someone like you doesn’t die so easily. I know you’ll keep fighting, no matter you are faced with! You lived through so much, and survived wounds that would kill so many! You don’t give up, you’ve never given up, it’s a quality you embody above everything else! There’s no way you can die, don’t even think about it! And don't push everyone away!”

She pants for breath and bites her lip, trying to prevent tears. He’s at a loss for words. Had she too been bottling something up? Was it anxiety about Hell, or was it about him?

A wave hits the back of his shins. They both look down. When had the water gotten this high? Is the tide already coming in, or had they waded further into the sea? Wordless, he walks back to the shore, and after a moment, she follows. He halts once he’s back at the shoreline, but she takes a few steps away from it.

As her breathing quietens, Momo’s gaze searches for something in him. Her eyes are so wide, alarmed and still on the verge of tearing up. “I-I didn’t understand why you were becoming so distant, I thought getting away from the Soul Society would help, but now I think I know. Are you…?” She’s conflicted, her lips opening to continuing her question, only to close seconds later and becoming a taut, pressed line.

He’d wanted to tell her what was on his mind, but not like this. To his own ear, he’s ended up sounding both paranoid and like a child complaining about something not going his way. He ended up upsetting her. Toshiro sighs, suddenly more tired than before. “What is it?”

She still hesitates, her focus on the waves circling his ankles. Eventually, she raises her head and steps closer. “Are you scared?”

It hits him in the chest like a stone thrown into glass. For a second, his blood runs tight and cold in his limbs. His heart skips a beat, then clenches. He can feel hairline fractures running through him, threatening to break apart. Momo hadn’t hit the nail on the head, but she knows one facet of what is going on within him.

The impact she made must show, because her expression softens further. “It’s okay if you are, I think we all are. I think it’s why we’re all here. In this time of uncertainty, the only thing we can do right now is to be here with our friends. We can’t let the uncertainty of the future stop us from living in the present with those we care about.”

Or we could be planning. Somehow, the thought sounds strange, as if the sentiment behind it weren’t quite right anymore.

Momo closes the gap between them, their hands almost brushing. “If you really feel we shouldn’t be here, then why did you come?” It’s not an accusation, only a gentle question.

Because you wanted me to. She still isn’t aware of the hold she has over him, but how would she react if she knew? But her invite hadn’t been the only reason, nor had it just been Rangiku and Granny’s encouragement, or Shunsui appointing him as one of the supervisors.

We can’t let the uncertainty of the future stop us from living in the present with those we care about.

Maybe if the mood were different, he would tease her for picking up on his philosophy. In her own way, she had describe what would be his usual way of thinking. He slides his gaze to the horizon, watching the waves form, build, then curl in and crash in on themselves. It reminds him the fireworks, how they rise and flare into existence, only to scatter and fade away after they’ve exploded in the sky.

What happened to him? Why is he like this?

No, he already knows why. He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, but it does nothing to help. If he looks at the source of all of this now, the fractures might get bigger, but if he doesn't, they'll only run deeper.

And so, he opens his eyes to the stars.

“Before Hell, Kurotsuchi was working on a cure for the de-zombification process for Matsumoto and I,” he begins, his voice rougher. “That included returning the years of our life taken by the procedure, or at least, extending out lifespans to something greater than what they currently are. I expected slow progress, but when Hell revealed itself to us, of course work into a cure had ceased all together. It’s the right thing to do. We lay our lives down for the Soul Society.” His gaze fixes on her. “For our friends.”

Momo lets out a long, silent breath, her shoulders falling lower. She waits, always patient and willing to listen to him, but there's an urgency beneath it.

With some effort, he continues. “Knowing what will happen once those who obtained bankai die, knowing we can become so warped, that we can fight against our former officers, our friends. If I die before the conflict ends, that's what I'll become. I don't want that. I never want to hurt anyone on our side." I never want to hurt you again. "I didn't want..." I didn't want the peace to end."I don't..." I don't want to die.

Something drops into the sand behind them. Then, her arms around him, pulling him into side ways hug. His widened eyes stare straight ahead, unblinking and unfocused. The last time they had hugged was when the war against the Quincy had ended. Why is it they only hug when they're sad? But the feel of her arms around his shoulders, to know she's here with him, it makes him shudder, verging of a sob. He holds it back, believing it would do neither of them any good, but he turns in her arms and wraps his own around her.

“Without knowing what’s ahead, I can’t just relax like everyone else,” he admits.

“I know,” she whispers, voice tight. "With all of that on your mind, how could anyone?"

"And knowing I don't have much longer to live…"

A minute passes, and there's only the waves, which now coming up to their mid shines. The tide is definitely coming in, it wont be long before it gets higher.

Toshiro thinks to pull away, but Momo's arms tighten around him. "There's still time for Captain Kurotsuchi to find a cure for you and Rangiku-san, I know he won't give up on it. We don't know what we're up against, but that's nothing new for us, isn't it?" and he feels her smile against his temple. “In times of uncertainty and without answers, we only have each other, " she says "You look out for others, and become stronger for others. It’s why one of the reasons you’re worried about the future, right? It’s not just about fearing an early death, isn’t it? You care about everyone, you want to know what you can do to protect them for what’s to come. You want to live with everyone, right?”

His heart quivers. He’d seen everyone’s confusion and dourness for more than a month, and it did nothing to alleviate the emotions that slowly took hold of him. The peace had softened him, had made him so accustomed to seeing everyone in higher spirits. He missed it, longed for it after what they had learned about Hell. He especially missed seeing Momo that way, after everything she went through, by Aizen's hand and unintentionally his own.

He recalls how fragile the flowers in her hat looked, how small her hands seemed. He hadn't had to think about protecting anyone in years, hadn't had to be vigilant or on guard at all times, but they'd slowly been bubbling back to the surface in the recent months. When Hell comes, those feelings will come back in full force. He would never let anything harm her, not when he now has the powers to protect her.

As the seconds pass, a strange grief takes hold. He mourns for an uncertain future, for a future that will likely not be his. She has been a part of his life for so many years, and there was a time he was certain she would still be there with him in the future, but now, even if he makes it out of this alive, who's to say of she or Rangiku will be there? It's always been a possibility, ever since any of them became Shinigami, but with Hell now posing as a threat - one that has broken the peace they'd enjoyed for over ten years - it only exacerbates the chances of it happening. He mourns for the peace that is broken, because at some point without realising, he had seen that as their future. They would all go on happily, performing their duties with only the occasional hitch, but nothing that would threaten their everyday lives, the very existence of all the worlds.

The peace was too good to last; but it had happened, and he had enjoyed it with everyone else. It's the way of all the worlds; the good can only last for so long, but it never completely vanishes. It finds it's way back in smaller ways.

With a new wave smacking particularly hard into the backs his legs, he pulls away. He takes her hand, ignoring the surprised look she gives him, and leads her out of the water. “Come on, we should head back, the tide is starting to come in.”

Along the way, she stoops down and picks up the sandals she’s thrown aside to hug him. They walk up the beach and up the mounds and stairs in silence.

What they'd talked about isn't really an answer or a solution to his worries. He’ll feel this unease about the future for as long as Hell is a threat. But the waves, they ebb and flow. The stars burn until there’s nothing left; they shine brightly until they fade away. The worlds go on, with or without beings who have left them. It's both a disconcerting and calming thought.

As they near the road a few minutes later, Momo she gives his hand a squeeze. "Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun."

"Huh?"

"For telling me everything. I know it couldn't have been easy for you." Then, ruefully, "I'm sorry that this all happened at a beach."

Toshiro could almost laugh, but he manages to withhold it. "It was a majority vote for the location, there was no changing that."

He doesn't looks back at her until they stop on the side of the road. The streetlight next to them casts half of her face in white-yellow light, while the sign of a nearby restaurant casts the other in pink and red.

"You've always been like this. Willing to listen to others, to let them speak their minds." He gives her a small smile. "I should be thanking you."

She gives a embarrassed shrug. "I'm not always like that."

He could argue with her until they're both deaf about her modesty, but he refrains. "Maybe you're right. It's good to...be away for a while, even if it's somewhere like here."

"Even if you can't stop thinking about what happened? Or what's to come?"

It's not her intention, but it almost feels like a test from the universe, to see if he has taken what she'd said to heart. He steps closer, gaze intent. "It's like you said, there was no way we could stop completely thinking about what happened. I can't let these thoughts go, I can't be like everyone else . I won't stop thinking about what happened, not until we can predict Hell's next moves." He bows his head. "I'm sorry for how I've been on this trip."

She shakes her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm sorry for trying to force you to relax. I should've just come out and said I was concerned."

"With how I was, I can understand why you went about things the way you did. Besides, the ice cream wasn't bad. Dinner was good too, and the beach wasn't...terrible."

That gets a huff of a chuckle out of her.

"Still, I should've been upfront before we came."

She offers a sympathetic smile. "In the end, you were. We only have a day left, but please spend it however you want to." After he nods, she drops her sandals to the ground. "I should put these on before we go back to the others."

She lets go his hand to slide and clip her sandals back on.

His hand hovers in the air, and he knows he should put it back to his side. He'd done what he'd had to to lead them away from the sea. He's also never been one for physical contact beyond what was necessary in battle. But he didn't want to let go just yet.

With both of her shoes on, Momo straightens. "Do think they are at the bar by now?"

"Chances are."

He looks out to the road, lit by streetlights and lined with restaurants, bars, and closed shops. The weight within him is still there, but lighter. For the first time since he arrived, he thinks of somewhere he wants to go.

"I think I saw a takoyaki stall down there," he says, jerking his chin to the right. "Want to go eat before we join everyone else?"

Momo raises both eyebrows, but before he can ask why she reacted this way, she beams and takes his hand again. "Yeah, let's go."

#hitsuhina #rays-of-fire-and-ice #this is exactly the fic you need for summer!#existential drea and sunshine and ice cream all to be cooled #by plesant waves and sunset walks!!!#momo hinamori #toushiro hitsugaya #bleach fanfiction

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canariie · 2 years ago

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I read this while listening to Taylor Swift's lover album which was such a great mood setter for Toushiro falling in love ❤️ Also the warmer weather and signs of spring encouraged me to sit and review this!!

Firstly I loved the little of vignettes of Toushiro falling in love! And it's such a lovely slow build: from the captain's meeting where he's supposed to present but he can't help but notice Momo's hair (reminds me of being in class and watching someone cute present when it's soon going to be my turn bahahahaha) but he still doesn't quite know what the emotion was!

I love that first moments of noticing her comes about with specifically details of her hair! As a fan of hair as character growth I love how it document Momo's character arc but it's also a nod to Toushiro from hos prequel chapter where that's literally the first thing he compares Momo to against himself.

And then using that to notice "oh she's beautiful" and how it stirs new emotions from simply questioning her health or well being to really noting how lovely she looks 🥰

But it still doesn't stop him from noticing when Momo is upset from body language cues and I absolutely love the moment when she leans against his shoulder and he's so scared to move hahaha

I have to admit when I saw the nails moment I did smile to myself because I felt like it was a call out to my "morning routine" fic with Rangiku doing Momo's nails 🥰🥰😊😊 but Toushiro holding her hand!!! (And him wondering, "if Momo can do it, why can't I hold her hand when I want") was super sweet! Especially cause we the reader starts to notice that Momo may also be experiencing her own moments of realization!!

(Momo's eyes changing from brown to amber and Toushiro really realizing he is in love in such a quiet moment is also my fav!)

I think one of my favourite parts was Toushiro at the end when he worried that he has fallen out of love with her because he doesn't have the same immediate reactions (cause it's literally been SO long that he has had to learn to school his features and temper his emotions) And even tho he gets jealous at other's interactions with Momo he knows he can't say anything yet.

I love pining Hitsugaya that never says anything about his feelings. It's so angsty and great I love love it.

But also the fact that he reminds himself to be grateful that Momo is just by his side and he would rather stay quiet and put her happiness first and not jepordaize their current relationship is just selfless and just great fic material 🤩 and then realizes that he STILL LOVES HER 😭🥹

(Also its minor but I love how the fic starts with Iba as a lieutenant and then ends with him as a captain. Just shows you more how time has passed!)

Loved this Rays! I know this was for the challenge but also would love to see a Momo version of how she falls for him ☺️

To Know Love

Prompts: (seemingly) unrequited love, peace

Rating: K

Setting: During the ten-year timeskip, beginning a year after Yhwach’s defeat.

Synopsis: During the ten years of rebuilding the Soul Society, Toshiro tries to ease into the newfound peace and comes to a realization.

AN: back with another fic for @yearoftheotpevent's challenge! Prepare for schmaltz galore! >:D I wrote this while I was on my break from Tumblr, and as usual, this one went for longer than I expected it to ^^; I actually cut a lot of scenes from this because it was just becoming too much, but I may end up adding it back in here or creating another fic based on certain scenes.

For those who’ve read It Suits You, you may recognize a scene from that fic that’s been included here. I’ve changed it to suit (no pun intended) this story better, but it more or less has the same structure.

Hope you all enjoy it!

_____________________________________

There hadn’t been any major conflicts in the last year, but that did little to ease the tension within Toshiro. As he’d learned all too well, a threat can emerge without warning from anywhere and anyone.

He sensed the same unease in his fellow captains as well. An air of weariness hovered over all of them every time they had a meeting like this one. With each report and updates given about reconstruction, it only reinforced how vulnerable the Soul Society still was.

Shunsui called Iba to give his report. The lieutenant comes to stand between the two rows of captains and recounts the repair work Seventh Division had started on. Much like other reports, it was mostly about clean up and beginning repair work on still standing structures.

At some point, Toshiro lost focus on Iba and his gaze drifted to Momo. Like most others, her attention was on her fellow lieutenant and she remained still. The last time he’d seen her was two months ago at a meeting just like this.

When she gave a small nod at something Iba said, his attention was drawn to her hair. It was done up in its usual style with the hairclip on the side, but the tips had grown to be only an inch away from her shoulders. Given how busy everything was, it wouldn’t surprise him if she simply didn’t have time to go get a haircut. He’d heard a rumor that Shinji knew how to cut hair, but given how the captain’s styled his hair, Toshiro is glad she didn’t ask him to cut hers.

It's the smallest thing, but when the ends of her hair sway as she nodded again, it brought forth an emotion Toshiro still doesn’t have a name for. He’d felt it in faint flashes in the past either when he was with her, but it had become more prominent since Aizen’s defeat. It made his heart either race or clench, sometimes sent him into a bout of fanciful thinking, and made him consider her appearance beyond whether she looked well or not.

It's an annoyance, one that caused his brows to furrow deeper for its inconvenient timing. Of all things, it came about because of her hair, and during a meeting he was meant to speak at no less. And yet, he wanted it to last the little bit longer, to let him forget the unease he constantly felt since the war against the Quincy came to an end. A part of him said it was too silly and maybe even too dangerous to indulge, making him to go into fantasy rather than focus on reality. What was this feeling? Why couldn't he figure it out?

He drew attention back to the meeting when Shunsui thanked Iba for the updates. The emotion stuttered, then crept away. As Toshiro was called on upon to give his report, he was thankful it had vanished just in time.

But perhaps a thread of it lingered, because when he as came to stand between the lines of captains and begin his updates, he wondered if Momo was noticing the smallest things in him too.

_____________________________________

It became stronger a year later.

She’d presented him with a bento box on one of their rare lunch breaks together.

“You never bring your own lunch,” she’d explained with a chuckle at his bewilderment. Then, her expression softened and she ruefully looked off to the side. “And I wasn’t able to get anything for your birthday last year, so, um…I made this for you instead.”

His eyes widened when he opened the box’s lid and saw it was filled with most of his favourite foods. How long had this taken her to put together? Had she really made everything here herself?

“You didn’t have to go to the trouble,” he said, hating how flustered he sounded.

He expected her to tease or laugh at him, but she only shrugged. “I know.”

She’d wanted to do this for him regardless.

His heart swelled with that strange emotion, and for a moment he felt nothing but a soft adoration for her. After everything that happened, she’s still kind and thoughtful towards him. He’s quick to snap out of it, biting the inside of his cheek against the rush of heat to his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he replied more calmly.

“You’re welcome.” He thought they’d leave it at that and start on their lunches, but Momo giggled with a teasing grin. “Why the blush, Hitsugaya-kun?”

“Because it’s hot out!”

“But we’re under shade.”

He quick to take up the chopsticks and shove something from the bento box into his mouth. That stopped her teasing, her eyes going wide and her lips parted in anticipation for his verdict. He had no idea what he chose, but he chewed slowly, keeping her in suspense. She did this every time she baked something, waiting to see what others thought.

His response is always the same. “It’s good.”

Her resulting smile makes him bite the inside of his cheek by accident, and tried to stifle the yelp and the emotion that flared up. It only made his blush worse.

_____________________________________

He didn’t recognize her when she came to the office with reports for him to sign off on.

He’d gotten used to her tying her hair back with a ribbon in a ponytail that either rest on her shoulder or her hair flowing down her back with the sides pinned back by her hairclip. She’d tried various styles since growing her hair out, never seeming to settle on one for more than six months before changing it again.

But this had been wholly different. Gone were the hairclip and ribbon, and in their place was a messy bun. She’d also gotten a fringe, which rested over her left eyebrow, two thin bangs rests against each side of her face.

She sits down next to him, still talking and not noticing his stupor as she lays out the plan on the coffee table. His heart thumps against his chest; he can’t look away from her.

By this point he’d dubbed the emotion a nuisance, something that got in the way of him trying to focus on his work. How can he focus on what she’s saying when she look this new look makes her glow, makes her look more mature? He tried to banish it, and it showed in his face. His frown deepened, his lips pursed, and his teeth ground together.

Momo finally noticed, and she blinked in surprise. “Are you all right Captain Hitsugaya?”

The title shocked him out of reverie. “When did you get her hair cut?” He could slap himself; the question unintentionally came out accusatory.

Momo blinked. “I didn’t?”

“That’s not what I meant. When did you…change your hair?”

“About a month ago.” Unthinkingly, she curled one of the bangs around her finger, and that tiny gesture made his heart race anew. “I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while, so you wouldn’t know. What do you think?”

What could he say wouldn’t sound embarrassing for both of them? “It’s just different.”

“Is that all you think about it?” she chuckled, unhooking the bang and running a hand over the side of her head. “I decided to grow my hair out so I could put it in a bun again. I kind of missed it.”

When she told him years ago she was getting her hair cut, he’d been shocked. He’d only ever known her with long hair, but he got used to her short hair very quickly. He also thought that maybe this was her way of distancing herself from the past trauma Aizen had put her through, cutting her hair so she couldn’t put it back in the bun she styled it in for decades.

Now she’s back to longer hair, and despite the similarities it has with her older bun hairstyle, it was definitely different. It showed she has moved on from what tying her hair back used to represent – her time as Aizen’s lieutenant.

With heat threatening to colour his cheeks, he managed out, “It suits you.”

She grinned and thanked him with a blush. It was the first time he thought she was beautiful.

_____________________________________

It came again when he looked over at Momo during the festival's fireworks. Toshiro had no particular reason to, but at some point his eyes moved away from the display above them to her.

Like all the souls around them, she’s out of uniform and in a kimono with an ornament pinning her hair to the side in an intricate bun - based on a model she saw in one of her magazines, Rangiku claimed proudly when showing off her work.

Momo didn’t notice his stare, too captivated by the display. Her face was coloured red, then purple, then pink, then blue with each firework that shot up and exploded in the sky.

She flinched, then giggled when a particularly loud firework blew up in the sky, dousing her and the area around them in a golden orange. Even if he wanted to see what it looked like, couldn’t look away now. Even before meeting up today, he could tell from her gait as she went about her duties that this was the most relaxed she’d been in years. She walked lighter, with her shoulders away from her ears and her head tilted back, as if peering up at the sky.

It unexpectedly moved him. After all she’d went through from five years ago, didn’t she deserve to keep smiling like this, to look upon the world with renewed wonder and optimism? He thought so, and a part of him wished he could be more relaxed too. He can never shake off the vigilance though, ready for the next threat.

His attention was only diverted when Rangiku made a particularly loud awed sound. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen him - he’d have dreaded being questioned by her later, assuming things she knew nothing about.

Wanting to move away from the strange emotion, he looked back to the fireworks. That infernal blush he'd become far too familiar with darkened his cheeks when he thought the colours weren’t as vibrant against the sky.

_____________________________________

From the moment he walked into the office, Toshiro's brows furrowed deeper at Momo's hunched posture. He gingerly closed the door. “I brought the reports.”

She nodded and mustered up a weak smile. “Welcome, Captain Hitsugaya.” She gestured to the tray with a teapot and cups on it. “I made some tea, seeing as we’ll probably be here for a while.”

His heart throbbed with concern, but he sat next to her and began going through the joint reconstruction review for a districts the Fifth and Tenth Divisions were rebuilding together.

It didn’t take long before he could tell her mind had drifted off somewhere else, her gaze become glassy and half-hooded.

With a sigh through his nose, he reached for the teapot. “Let’s take a break.”

Momo shook her head, dispelling whatever occupied her mind. “But we’ve only completed five reports.”

“Well, I was thirsty anyway.”

He poured a cup for her too, and her guilty frown only made his chest tighten more. As he handed her tea to her, something in her wilted, causing her sigh quietly and hunch into herself further.

“Sorry, today isn’t a good day for me,” she admitted. “I got rid of another sketchbook yesterday, it’s been on my mind.”

“One with Aizen in it?” he asked carefully. Even after all this time, he hesitated when saying the former captain’s name. She didn’t flinch or visibly react to hearing his name, but he knew it had to have some kind of internal impact on her still.

She nodded. “There’s only two left now. Even so, it’s still hard to…” A slight tremor ran through her hands, causing the tea to almost reach the lip of her cup. “I better put this down.”

It was in moments like this he forgot reason and wished Aizen had been sentenced to death. It’s an anger that often seethed somewhere deep in his mind, rarely making an appearance but still there all the same.

This strange emotion seemed to amplify other emotions whenever she was concerned. He was that bit happier when he made her smile or laugh, and that bit more concerned when she was stressed or experienced moments like this.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. The question squeezed his heart and gave his voice a raspy quality, but he found himself not caring if she noticed.

She considered for a pause, then shuffled closer to him. “If it’s not too much trouble, can I, um…?”

The furtive gaze at his shoulder told him all he needed to know, and the vice around his heart loosened. “It’s fine.”

She still hesitated, but eventually rested her head on his shoulder. It hadn’t been first time she’d done this, but since this emotion became more prevalent within him, such an act often left him dividing his attention between calming his heart and making sure he didn’t budge, not wanting to jostle her. He stared ahead and waited in the silence.

More times than not, she only did this when she was upset. She said it helped her stay grounded, but he couldn’t see how. He imagined the cold of his reiatsu would be uncomfortable for most if they stayed this close to him for too long. She proved to be an exception, as always.

“Did you ever find your scarf after the war?”

The strange question caught him off guard and he turned his head as far as he could to look at her. “No, it was taken when I was changed into the Sternritter uniform. Why do you ask?”

His bewilderment grew when she tilted to meet his gaze and smiled. “I don’t know. I think the cold is reminding me of it...or maybe I just miss it.”

He didn’t ask any further, and not long after, she lifted her head and they resumed reviewing the reports, with her in slightly higher spirits.

A month later, she gave him a scarf on his birthday. Unlike the last, he didn’t plan to wear this one as part of his uniform. He wanted to, had it adorning his neck the very next day before going to a captain’s meeting, but just as he was about exit his room, he had a change of heart. He folded it up and put in his cupboard, to be worn when the snowfall came again.

He couldn’t risk it getting damaged or lost, not when a threat could come at any moment.

_____________________________________

Even her hand could triggered it.

Toshiro came into the office and stopped short when he spotted Momo and Rangiku on one of the couches. His nose scrunched up at the scent of nail polish, and sure enough, there were several bottles lined up on the coffee table and Rangiku held one of their brushes in her hand. He was about to start an argument, but to his surprise, his lieutenant wasn’t painting her own nails. She held one of Momo’s, with the latter’s pointer finger already painted. Toshiro could understand why Rangiku was interested in such strange things – it felt like it was in a similar vein as those ‘facials’ she did and the hair products she bought - but since when was Momo interested in painting nails?

“Why hello, captain!” Rangiku greeted. “It looks like the meeting finished early, huh.”

He directed a glare at his lieutenant as a vein throbbed in his temple. “And you thought to avoid your duties and do hobbies in the office rather than elsewhere, am I right?”

Momo raises her free hand defensively. “Hitsugaya-kun, please don’t blame Rangiku-san, I was-”

“But we’re still on break!” Rangiku interrupted her. “Besides, all the courtyards and common areas are being used right now. Also, I didn’t want to do this in my room in case you came back and wondered where I was.”

“I wouldn’t have to make too many guesses,” Toshiro muttered under his breath. At his lieutenant’s questioning gaze, he sighed and walked past the, he went to his desk. He brought out the fresh batch of reports from his sleeve. “I’ll compile these, and when you’re done, you better look over them.”

He didn’t have to look back to know Rangiku grinned in victory.

“Well, maybe we should move to the balcony,” Momo suggested. “That way the scent won’t disturbed Hitsugaya-kun.”

“Captain Hitsugaya,” Toshiro interjected without turning around.

“Ah, don’t worry,” Rangiku said. “I’ll have your nails done soon. Besides, the captain doesn’t mind, right, sir?”

She knew very well he did, but she also knew he didn’t have it in him to ask them to leave when he rarely got to see Momo beyond passing her on the way to somewhere else these days. He only grunted in respond before sitting down at his desk and getting out his brush and ink.

He blocked out most of their chatter as Rangiku continued painting Momo’s nails; most of it was related to what they’d been up to or about Women’s Association business. Despite the scent and the slight annoyance at Rangiku’s usual laziness, t was oddly nice to have them there. Maybe it was another sign of the peace he was becoming decreasingly skeptical of.

It was almost five minutes later Momo came over to him, forcing his focus away from his work. “What do you think, Hitsugaya-k -- Captain Hitsugaya?”

He blinked at her, then as her presented hand. “Why do want my opinion?”

She shrugged, trying to appear casual. “It’s nice to get a second opinion.”

It sounded like a weak reason, but it’s forgotten when she did a wave with her fingers, a playful flourish that brought the unnamed emotion forth.

He clasped her hand around the knuckles and brought it closer, examining Rangiku’s work. He could’ve sworn he heard his lieutenant make a choked sound, but he wasn’t paying attention to her.

Her nails were a pale pink, and save for the glossy texture and lack of white tips, they didn’t look much different from when her nails weren’t painted. Still, he had to admit, it made her hand that little bit daintier. He could feel the callouses of her of her fingers and palm behind, and it made for a strange juxtaposition.

Hands like hers are typically thought of as soft, but the one he holds hers with, the one that had been regenerated after Aizen’s defeat, was softer than hers. Her hands held a weapon and cast kido spells to protect the Soul Society, but they also showed a soft kindness when they held the shoulders or hands of another. He briefly remembered when her grief and confusion caused them to bleed, but he banished the memory with a shift of his grip, inching his hand lower so that her fingers rested over his.

Her blush almost matched the shade of nail polish. Is she embarrassed? What did she have to be embarrassed about? Maybe because he held her hand? His gesture had been out of character, but she is always quick to grab his hand without a second thought. Wasn’t he entitled to be spontaneous every now and then?

Maybe he had stared for too long, and his lack of a response made her feel she had chosen the wrong colour. It’s all trivial to him, but to her, it must mean more than he realised.

“The colour looks good,” he said, and withdrew his hand. The response sounded disappointing to his own ears, but she knew he was not one to be elaborate with praise or feedback.

Her hand remained rigid in the air for several seconds. It’s not until Rangiku came over, also voicing her approval of the colour choice, that she brought her hand back to herself. “T-Thank you, Shiro-chan.”

He’s too perplexed to correct her. Why had this mattered to her? Or perhaps his actions had made her uncomfortable? When she turned away from him and announced she needed to get back to her division, he inwardly cursed. This emotion sometimes compelled Toshiro do the strangest things without a second thought.

He was about to stand and call out her name, without any idea how he would apologise, until she looked back at him.

Her smile was wide and sweet, giddy almost. “I’ll see you for lunch next week, right, Captain Hitsugaya?”

He could only nod. He’s quick to shut his mouth closed and throw himself back into his work. Rangiku showed her out, and as soon as the door closed, Toshiro nearly fell against his desk. It's getting worse with each passing year.

_____________________________________

He knew the emotion was behind the discomfort he sometimes felt when Momo was around others. When she vivaciously spoke with Izuru about the latest books they’ve read, when she grinned at Rindo as he let her feed a bird perched on his arm or taught her a new sign, when Renji did something – intentional or not – that made her giggle, or when she laughed with male members of her division at inside jokes only they understood.

Toshiro refused to call it jealousy, believing it was something he had left behind after he became a Shinigami, A child felt jealous when they didn't get the attention they wanted or seeing others as being greater than themselves. He was beyond that, knew who he was and didn’t vie for her attention.

Yet he caught himself wondering what he had to offer her compared to others in her life. She smiled with him most times they were together, and laughed when he got flustered or was trying to cheer her up. But he was not an avid reader, didn't have a particular skill she was interested in picking up, or had a broad sense of humor.

He could put the discomfort aside most times, especially when he saw how happy she was. Every passing year, the melancholy that had settled into her heart after Aizen’s defeat was fading bit by bit.

Yes, he'd decided, as long as she could be happy, with him or others, he'd deal with this aching sensation without complaint.

_____________________________________

He watched Momo from afar while she read a book. Her feet dangled over the edge of the veranda, and her lashes brushed along her cheeks, but she otherwise remained still. The spring air brushed over the area, ruffling through his hair and sweeping her bangs over her shoulders. The flowers under her feet sway too and fro, almost brushing against her toes, and petals of a nearby sakura tree dust the courtyard in front of her in a veil of pink. It was the perfect picture of peace, and he’s afraid to disturb it.

But maybe, he can join her in it, for more than the thirty minutes they spent together on lunch breaks. It’d been seven years since the Yhwach’s defeat, and by some miracle, no major conflict had disturbed their reconstruction efforts. A part of him still clings to that vigilance for the next threat, but he’d increasingly fallen into the lull this peace offered. Was he becoming complacent or weary?

Toshiro didn’t dwell on the thought, knowing she would look up soon and wonder where he was any minute now. He walked out of the shade of the awning and came around the corner of the main barracks.

He chose to announce his arrival through his footsteps and reiatsu rather than words. As he neared, Momo raised her head with a smile, and the light caught in her irises turned them from brown to amber.

It was then Toshiro realized he loved her eyes.

_____________________________________

He thought to tell Rangiku, because despite her teasing, he knew she’d understand. Still, he always hesitated to bring it up, to open himself up that much and risk being told what he didn’t want to hear. She mightn’t feel the same way.

Somehow, that response didn’t fill him the same sense of dread as the other he’d imagined.

You don’t know how she feels.

Because that could inspire hope. It would make him think that nothing was set in stone, that maybe she could feel the same way, and he’s certain it would lead to disappointment.

_____________________________________

Ever since he’d put a name to the emotion, he saw glimpses of it almost everywhere he went. Whether it was with couples in the Junrinan, and when he oversaw his subordinates reconstructing a part of Sokyouku, he saw the way his third seat, Minagawa, flashed the occasional glance at Mako, an officer from the Thirteenth Division. Since the two division began joint repair work together last, Mingawa and Mako were often assigned together on tasks. Over time, his third seat’s gaze grew more soft and unsure when he looked at her, but when she spoke with him, he smiled more than usual and seemed to hang on her every word.

Toshiro wondered if he looked the same when he was with Momo. He hoped not, was flustered at just the thought of everyone being able to see how he felt about her. It was bad enough Rangiku seemed to clue in on it, looking at him in certain ways whenever the two of them were around Momo or whenever he said he’d be having lunch with her.

Worse still, it had become difficult to be in Momo’s presence. When she flashed him a smile, his heart fluttered, sometimes for a few seconds and other times for a whole minute. When she took hold his hand to lead him somewhere, he bit the inside of his cheek hard to stop the tremors under his skin coming to the surface. He founds himself smiling more, telling her things he'd normally keep under lock and key in his mind. Could she see how he felt?

And it was that niggling worry that made him want to keep his distance whenever they interacted. He wanted to stay few more inches away from her when they walked side by side, avoided her hands and acted as if he hadn’t noticed her reaching out for him. Small things, nothing obvious.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She’d notice in time, likely confront him about why he was acting the way he was. Above all else, despite the pain it caused him, he couldn’t deny the moments of happiness it brought him. When she smiled at him, he found himself smiling back. When she held his hand, he rarely let go.

He’d heard the expression ‘a fool in love’ before, and he was certain that he was.

_____________________________________

Toshiro tilts his head up to the sky. The sun had just set, and the oranges and pinks of the sky were changing to purples and dark blues. Rain is coming, he can sense it in the gathering clouds and cool winds that brushed over him.

A crash comes from inside the Thirteenth Division's main hall, silencing the loud chatter. It starts up again only seconds later, but with an accusation of someone having dropped a sake bottle and hearty laughter from Kenpachi and Ikkaku.

Toshiro rolls his eyes, but there's a small smile too.

“There you are!”

He blinks at Momo, who has her head poking out of the doorway. Her cheeks are flushed, but he can’t tell if it’s from celebratory sake or the heat inside.

“Too loud for you?” she asks.

“No, I just needed some air.” His smile widens a fraction. “It’s good, actually.”

Momo quirks up an eyebrow and fully steps outside. “Oh?”

“I don’t remember the last time I heard everyone like this. It’s another sign of the peace we’ve enjoyed these past ten years. Everyone can celebrate Kuchiki’s promotion as she deserves. It's a shame Iba didn't get the same celebration when he became captain.”

A part of him laments not accepting the peace sooner, but there was no use thinking about such things. With every building reconstructed, every grave created, and a return to more regular Shinigami duties in the World of the Living, they’ve all moved forward together into this peace. The calm in his mind and heart is a welcomed change, it almost reminded him of the days before Aizen’s betrayal and the Quincy invasion.Despite that, he isn’t the same person, far from it.

Momo comes to his side. Her softened gaze makes him feel self-conscious.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just nice to hear you express yourself and see you smile more often. Normally you’re like this.” She folds her arms tightly across her chest, deeply furrows her brows, and drops her lips into a frown.

“I don’t look like that!” Toshiro exclaims.

She bursts into laughter. “Oh no, Shiro-chan, I’m sorry! Go back to smiling!”

He complies with a chuckle. “I think the sake has gone to your head.”

She only had a sip on celebratory occasions, it wouldn’t surprise him if her tolerance is low.

Momo shakes her head. “I feel fine. More than fine, actually.” She sighs. “I wish too that Captain Iba got have a celebration like this, even if we were in the middle of all the reconstructions, but I'm glad Captain Kuchiki gets to have this." she looks to the sky. "Things have been good lately.”

He nods with a grunt. He intends to keep things that way, for both of them.

Thinking back on the past nine years, his emotions had tempered down at some point. It came as a surprise when he realized his heart didn’t race every time he was around Momo and that the threat of a blush rarely came anymore. He could hold her hand with little issue and thinking about her didn't send him into fanciful thinking.

He’d grown frustrated with his reactions to her, had just wanted to be as he used to be around her. It's a relief, and yet, it makes him wonder if he's fallen out of love with her. Or maybe he's finally learned to temper his expectations, to know that she will likely never feel the same way about him.

The thought is almost enough to dampen his good spirits. He won’t be surprised if she came to him one day soon and told him about someone she had gotten close to, or that she had to cancel lunch plans because she was seeing another at the same time.

Perhaps she sees the turmoil within him, because she steps closer, gaze soft and hand already reaching for his. He’d gotten better at concealing his true feelings and thoughts from others, able to keep his expression impassive; it’s a skill he rarely has to use anymore, but when he does, it seems she can still read him regardless.

Toshiro gives her a questioning look when she laces her fingers between his. Her answering smile is wobbly, and a faint blush colours her cheeks. “It’s just nice to be here, to finally…have peace for as long as we have.”

A part of him has a sneaking suspicion that she’d intended to end her sentence differently, but the thought goes mute when she squeezes his hand.

The gesture reminds him that she's here, with him. She may never return his feelings and would likely find another to share such feelings with, but it hardly matters when he'd almost lost her once. After everything that happened, she still wants to be a friend to him, to move forward with him and others.

In that moment he feels ungrateful. How can he wish for more when she almost wasn’t here with them? It’s enough, he told himself, for her to be here in the peace with him and the others. To remain his closest friend and the one behind his motivation to become stronger.

And yet he couldn't stop the niggling question. Knowing he should never expect anything, he stills asks, "Why did you come looking for me?"

She considers for a moment. "I just noticed you weren't there. I thought maybe you'd already left...but I'm glad you're here. I'm glad we're both here."

The rainfall begins, causing her to look away from him. They're shaded by an awning, but she still reaches her hand out. Rain drops glimmer on her skin before falling either on the veranda or the garden before them.

His aching heart all but confirms he never fell out of love. Just like the first time, it's the smallest things she does that bring his feelings to the fore.

He can ask her why she stuck her hand out, but he doesn't. He let's the moment have whatever little magic it has on him. For once he doesn't want an explanation, he just lets something to be what it is.

#hitsuhina #momo hinamori #toushiro hitsugaya #rays-of-fire-and-ice #bleach fanfiction #such a great spring fic!!

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