#hitsugaya's grandma

[alexiethymia]

On Blooming Under a Cold Moon

I love the title, especially because aside from the reference to the fireworks, it references the main players in this side-story and calls forward to Soul Society where again it’s the same people who are entangled in this complicate web. Cold Moon sometimes gets translated to Wintry Moon and this is the volume where Hitsugaya first unleashes his bankai (which is some translations, include ‘cold moon’ as part of the title), but again there’s also how blooming evokes the image of flowers (Momo, Rangiku), and even how fireworks or hanabi in japanese literally refers to ‘fire flowers’ (as one post puts it). I do like the imagery of Rangiku and Momo in relation to Toshiro (blooming under his protection for example) because of this, BUT this title can also reference Aizen since Kyouka Suigetsu literally means “Mirror Flower, Water Moon”, and I don’t know if the nuance is the same, in that Aizen could also definitely be considered a cold moon, cold-blooded in this case instead of references to temperature.

This is one of those Momo>Hitsugaya things I love, in that Momo has probably consistently celebrated Hitsugaya’s birthday. That’s maybe over twenty years of birthday celebrations, not even counting when they were in Rukongai. Knowing that, there’s absolutely no way Hitsugaya doesn’t celebrate her birthday as well.

With the conversation with Rangiku, there are two interpretations for me. One, if even Rangiku didn’t know that it was Hitsugaya’s birthday on that day, then it’s possible that he never told anyone in the 10th about his birthday which is keeping in with his character, and his initial views about birthdays and celebrations (not wanting to make it a big deal etc., keeping things to himself). This makes sense considering what we do know of Toshiro but it does make me a bit sad if it means that he never got to celebrate with Isshin and Rangiku and the rest of the Squad before the former disappeared. The second interpretation is that Rangiku does know when his birthday is but just forgot it was that day already. (I lean more toward the second one.)

On the subject of birthdays, it makes me sad in relation to Rangiku and Gin, because it was Gin who asked when her birthday was! As if he wanted to celebrate it with her. In the same way Rangiku said her life had no meaning till she met Gin, Gin probably had no one to ask or no one he cared enough about to ask about their birthday until he met Rangiku. Which is a sucker-punch because Momo says they celebrated Rangiku’s birthday together which maybe implies that she celebrated it with the SWA or Momo and Toshiro, but not with Gin. And since her memory reverts back to when they were kids, it’s probably been a while since Rangiku and Gin spent their birthdays together.

And again I hate Aizen, and I hate that panel of him with Toshiro and Rangiku because it’s his words that reassure to them and reaffirm to them the importance of defining your own happiness (‘It doesn’t matter even if it isn’t the truth’ - the best lies have semblances of truth after all) which means this memory in relation to their birthdays will always have that taint. Remember, when I said he gaslit the academy trio (and Gin and Tousen), well he gaslit Toshiro and Rangiku too. (Seriously, f Aizen).

I love Toshiro’s monologue because it’s very him, the cynical and idealistic part of him both. He acknowledges that separations and endings are inevitable, but he still expresses the hope that we’ll continue to shine until that inevitable end.

The fact that this story is the opener for Volume 20, and paired with that poem is also great because it’s ambiguous enough that you can’t tell from which pov each statement is.

���Those who do not know what love is, liken it to beauty,” could definitely apply to Momo, but perhaps also Toshiro because of their youth and idealism. But the line, “Those who claim to know what love is, liken it to ugliness”, while I think is directly in reference to Aizen considering the events of this volume, I believe it actually pertains to Gin, and also Rangiku to an extent. See, this is why despite the gap between Soul Society and Deicide, no one was really surprised when Gin ‘betrayed’ Aizen for Rangiku. Kubo always likes to focus on the banter and the friendships and comedic moments, but when it comes to any deep and usually romantic connection he usually offscreens it, only planting subtle references. He’s said before that he doesn’t focus on romance, but perhaps also because too much focus lessens the gravity of these relationships. In a way, it’s also more intimate, because the deeper nuances and history is usually kept in view away from the readers such that it’s only for both parties of the relationship (besides hitsuhina, ginran, there’s also kaien and miyako).

[unxpctedlybleach]

[johannepetereric]

The flashback in ep316, of Grandma Haru finding Toshiro, was probs like over 30 years ago

And I swear I remember this lady having a cat!

[cheekedupwhiteboy]

my hot bleach take is: hitsugaya is a BORING fucking character and i do not care for it and i am falling asleep any time he's on the page or screen. idg why people like him so much at all

my hotter bleach take is: hitsugaya is actually a great character but only if instead of some boychild you imagine him to be a very tiny very powerful grandma

[irlkisukeurahara]

You don't have to like Hitsuhina but I've noticed every excuse I've seen for hating it is bad.

Like.

.

"Momo's an adult, Hitsugaya is a child"

Outright incorrect. Hitsugaya is canonically older. (source: klub outside)

.

"they have the same parent figure / foster grandma"

so do kyoraku and ukitake but nobody ever brings that up to shunuki shippers

.

"but they were family in rukongai"

so were rukia and renji!! it's almost as if they make family in rukon because that's all they have. it's almost as if that's the whole point!

.

Idgaf if you prefer it as a sibling dynamic but until there's proof of momo calling toshiro Nee-San or something I'm not gonna acknowledge it as remotely canon. got it? Cool

[themultiverseheroines]

Both Hikari and Isamu screamed as they tried to push off the older woman's breasts. Toshiro slapped the back of Rangiku's head and gets her to stop doing that. "Will you stop that?! You're older than these kids."

Hikari and Isamu got freed before they backed away to their master. "Yeah, listen to your captain...grandma," said Hikari before the twins took off.

Hanako sighed knowing she'll take care of them later. "Don't worry about those two. You need to worry about your training. Now, Captain Hitsugaya, you were one of the captains who lost his Bankai during the fight with the Quincy, right?"

Toshiro still felt embarrassed and ashamed at how he lost his Bankai. He wasn't the only one, but he didn't think he'd feel so powerless without his Zanpakuto during his fight.

@muses-of-the-memory

Closed RP w/@muses-of-the-memory

Its been about a few months since the fight with Yhwach and repairs to the Soul Society has continued. Much of the buildings still are in need of repairs, the casualty count is has finally finished, and some parts of the 13 Court Guard Squads have managed to resume with their duties.

Out at the Senkaimon, Captain Toshiro Hisugaya is seen standing in front of the gate. His arms within the sleeves of his coat as he appears to be waiting. Waiting for someone to appear from the gate. He was informed by the Head Captain that some very important people will be joining them soon, so he was asked to go greet them.

That and Toshiro was the only captain available, since most of the other captains were busy with other matters.

Toshiro sighed softly as he looks up at the gate, waiting for these so-called special guests to show up. "I wonder how long do I have to wait till they arrive? I know I was told to get here early just in case they arrive early, but its been over and hour and they're still not here yet."

@muses-of-the-memory

[bleachbleachbleach]

Grandma Headcanons

Hitsugaya’s grandmother gave him and Hinamori both their names. She’s an institution in Junrinan, and has lived there as long as anyone can remember. Long enough to have learned to write--and quite beautifully, though anyone with formal training wouldn’t give her hand a second glance. This has afforded her some social capital, in that she will take in hungry children, and the rest of the village will offer her goods, as a sort of payment for being the one who deals with them. She’s cared for many children, and will teach any who ask how to read and write. Hinamori has been her most eager student to date.

But back to the names. imho I think Kubo’s core characters all have baller names in general, but I’ve always wondered how all the Rukongai kids came to have such baller names in the first place. And family names at all, given that family lineages are not a thing in Rukongai, by definition--so you’d have to make one up for yourself, or have it given. And like, personally, I think “Toushirou” is a super clever name. I am EXTREMELY fond of that extra u, for the “tou” in 冬 (winter) instead of any the “to” in regular “Toshirou.” [Insert “I just think they’re neat” meme.] But I would also need to be aggressively convinced that he came up with that on his own, lol.

So I’m just imagining Junrinan Grandma coming up with these beautiful, outsized names for peasant children who aren’t expected to ever need them, writing them in sweeping brush script just because she can. Not all the children she names are destined for great things beyond the eyes of the village, and they don’t have to be; she will name them all the same. But to the ones who leave, she gives a family name as well. She likens the task to poetry.

“You’ll need one where you’re going,” she says. 

One unique and all your own.

[recurring-polynya]

I have devoted quite a bit of brain processing power to contemplating Rukia’s zanpakutou over the last few years. It’s not intuitive, the way it fits her. I still maintain a pet theory that Kubo came up with “individualized zanpakutou” idea somewhat later in the game, and came up with Rukia’s powers almost as an afterthought. After all, Rukia was the first Bleach character he created-- she originally fought with a scythe, back when it was called “Snipe” and everyone else was supposed to fight with guns. Also, she’s kind of redundant to Toushirou, which makes even less sense if he eventually intended to make her a captain.

However, thinking about her powers in the context, not of ice and snow, but of the fact that Sode no Shirayuki is a Yuki-onna actually makes a lot of things make sense. 

I am particularly interested in the Yuki-onba variants of the story, where she has a baby with her, and if a traveler meets her in the snowy woods, she’ll ask them to hold it, and if they do, it becomes too heavy to hold and they freeze to death. This directly ties into the story of Hisana in my mind-- a baby too heavy to carry, a burden that would have crushed her to death. Giving Rukia up, though, has its own consequences, and Hisana is crushed to death by her own guilt. We learn this at the culmination of an arc in which Rukia views herself as a burden over and over again-- she leaves Renji because she thinks she is troublesome to him, she does not want to be saved by Ichigo, she is treated as a stone around Byakuya’s neck. There is one legend where a warrior accepts the baby, but holds a dagger to it so that if it is crushed, the baby will be killed, too. Its mother eventually relents, and rewards the warrior for his... badassery? Cleverness? I don’t know, but I feel like this is such a powerful metaphor for Byakuya and Rukia’s relationship-- he accepts the baby, but holds them both at knifepoint.

Rukia’s earliest character arc, however, is getting past this mentality, summarized in a not-at-all subtle way, given that Renji is literally carrying her around like a sack of potatoes as he says this:

It’s not the end of it, though, because a lot of Rukia’s imagery then moves on to the idea of her carrying burdens. First and foremost, there was the Hogyoku (I am to this day a little miffed that there were never any aftereffects of having had that in her body for several months). There’s the entire business of carrying Kaien’s heart for him, which is tied together with Kaien making her promise not to die alone. This takes on a really interesting dimension when you tie it back to the idea that a Yuki-onna might be the ghost of a woman who froze to death and seeks to share that death with others (or conversely, that it is a comforting story of a spirit who appears to someone in their dying moments, since dying of exposure is an inherently lonely sort of death). Rukia is also the one who restores Ichigo’s powers to him, bearing them in the form a sword built by all his friends and allies. The imagery here is matches the stories where a Yuki-onna grants power and riches to those who outsmart her or withstand her tests.

Rukia is sort of evolving from the yukinko, the baby/burden of the story to the Yuki-onna, the one who bears the burden. The ultimate expression of this is her bankai, of course, where Rukia, who has been dead from the first page we met her, is even more dead, the very embodiment of deadness. Way back when she tried to run away from Karakura Town to spare Ichigo the consequences of her actions, she describes emotions as a burden, and says that a shinigami shouldn’t have them: congratulations, Rukia, you did it!

I don’t think she could have reached bankai, however, if, as she originally thought, she had just ignored her emotions or suppressed them. She had to go through the mortifying ordeal of knowing and being known, of allowing herself to be a burden and to carry the burden of others before she was capable of stepping into her full strength. 

Here are some other points I didn’t manage to squeeze in above:

A lot of the variants of the legend described on Wikipedia associate Yuki-onna with New Year or Little New Year (which is the fifteen of the first Lunar month or sometimes January 15). Rukia’s birthday is 1/14. 

Yuki-onna are sometimes said to carry a white wand (like the kind that would be used in a shinto ritual), and I think you could reasonably make a connection to Rukia’s white sword.  

There are other stories where people are able to withstand the weight of the baby and are granted great physical strength. I know there are various retconned reasons for how the Karakura kids got their powers, but it’s also interesting that it was the four of them that did not forget Rukia when she disappeared.

Japanese lady ghosts are sort of a continuum. Yuki-onna can also fill the folklore role of animal bride, and they can also be baby stealers. It’s only a short jump from a Yuki-onba to an ubume and ubemetori, ghosts of women who died in pregnancy and related bird spirit that screams and puts poison blood on your laundry. Oh, did someone say bird screams in the night, you mean like a nue? BLAMMO, I have finally successfully Kevin Baconed Rukia and Renji’s zanpakutou spirits, just let me have this.

[insomniac-jay]

IreJoou Children

InkStain and Splendor welcomed five children over the course of their marriage: Hiko, Fuyuhito, Hiroko, Akitsugu, and Kimiko Josephina Hitsugaya. Despite their surnames being Hitsugaya, the children are still entitled and set to inherit all Takarano properties.

Hiko Hitsugaya

The eldest son of the two. He was born a year after the two had graduated college. In the current timeline he is 4 years old but in the Young Heroes continuity he's 22 years old and a senior in college.

Hiko's Quirk is called Gilded and he has the ability to control gold lace and gold ink. When he manipulates gold ink, it manifests in the form of illuminated, hollow gold (think of Thena from Eternals).

At later stages, he will have evolved past manipulating gold lace and/or ink, now manipulating gold itself. With a bit more training he can be able to cover his entire body in gold armor.

Fuyuhito Hitsugaya | Hardware

Fuyuhito is the second son of the couple, born a year after Hiko. In canon he's 3 years old and 21 years old in Young Heroes. He is a big momma's boy and is almost always at her side. He is a huge fan of the Monster Wars franchise like his big brother Hiko and has almost all the toys (gifts from grandma, grandpa, auntie Shiho, and uncle Keizo).

In Young Heroes, his hero alias is Hardware and he is studying to be a game developer.

Hiroko Hitsugaya

Hiroko is the first daughter of InkStain and Splendor. She was born two years after Fuyuhito, making her 1 year old at the current point of canon. Being the (current) only daughter, she is her mommy and daddy's little princess.

In Young Heroes, she is a college freshman. Hiroko has no interest in heroics, instead turning her energy to the business side of things.

Akitsugu Hitsugaya

The 3rd son. Akitsugu is named after his late great grandfather Akitsugu Takarano. He won't be born until post canon, when Joou is 33 years old. Akitsugu is 2 minutes younger than his twin sister Kimiko Josephina.

In Young Heroes, he's a freshman in middle school. He plans on becoming a hero alongside KJ and forming a duo with her.

Kimiko Josephina Hitsugaya

The 2nd daughter and older twin between her and Akitsugu. She would also be born post canon when Joou is 33. She is named after her grandmother Kimiko and great grandmother Josephina. In Young Heroes, she's in middle school and planning on becoming a hero.

@floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid @s0ursop @opalofoctober @elflynns-horde-of-stuff @pizzolisnacks @peachyblkdemonslayer

[ryusxnka]

I've been thinking about this lately, but feel free to not answer it. We've seen Hitsugaya shed tears in front of his grandmother, but do you think there have been other instances where he's cried? He strikes me as the type to shed tears only on rare occasions.

This is a very tough question for me to talk about because of its complexities. It's like asking if Byakuya cries which we all know would be a very seldom thing. We saw him cry in front of his Grandmother because he was torn between learning how to control his abilities, leaving his grandma on her own, or stay and ultimately kill her. The woman's support brought him to tears. I've written him cry on Kusaka's body, but we've never seen him actually cry during the entirety of the Diamond dust rebellion movie. Which honestly is a feat cause that kid was in evident pain and stress. I've written cry over Hinamori after the winter war ended, but Canonly, we did not see any tears. Just determination onto getting stronger via vigorous training within whatever caves were away from the Seireitei. When Cang-du stole Hyourinmaru, he desperately cried out to his spiritual comrade, but there were no noticeable tears.

We've never seen him cry after his Grandmother, though he could have before Yamamoto's funeral seeing marking under his eyes. But be that as it may, we've mostly only seen him in low-spirits. We've seen him mad, infuriated with himself, and going through depression. With that said, I believe that crying would be something he does if his emotions were insanely severe. As in unmanageable. Toshiro copes with his stress and sadness with training or doing paperwork. Utilizing any sort of distraction until he feels less build-up. Not to mention that this panel here that holds my favorite quote of him perfectly represents how he deals with things. In other words, he knows that crying will not fix anything - It will not bring anything back. Thus, he must focus on moving forward - to ameliorate himself. - Crying would be a step down from that. It's hard for me to explain since i'm a Cry-baby, but i hope you understand my point. He'd cry if he was pushed far over his emotional limitations, but he completely refuses to fall to that point. He's headstrong. Determined. Remains rigid, thinking such emotions would deter his image. E.T.C But, yeah. Thank you for the question!

[alexiethymia]

illumination

summary: [Post-TYBW] Hitsugaya fixed his tabi on the engawa as he waited for Momo. Not for the first time, he was gripped with that sense of déjà vu. First sunrise. First shrine visit. A lot of the firsts that he remembered in his life was with her.

[read on ao3]

Notes: I don’t consider myself good at domestic fics, so this fic had plenty of inspiration, mainly @rays-of-fire-and-ice, @canariie, and @bleachbleachbleach‘s head canons especially about Jurinan grandma and Momo’s calligraphy. It was also inspired by the Hitsugaya family in Untitled Collection and the warmest place in the world, as well as all of the HCs about hitsuhina children that I just went and bit the bullet and did my own version. I’m also way too late for HitsuHina week, but I really wanted to finish this work based on the prompt fireworks.

Soshun mazu sake Ni ume uru Nioi kana

New year and first Sake and the fragrance of plum blossoms Being sold

“Kira’s spouting off haikus again which means he’s plastered and that’s our cue to go. Thanks for having us, Hitsugaya-taichou!”

“Heh, you sure it isn’t because you’ve made your darling wife and daughter wait up for you and now you’re scared you’ll be greeting the new year with a sandal to the face?”

“Shut it, Hisagi-san.”

“Oi, oi, show some respect Abarai. It should be Hisagi-senpai.”

“Ehh Kira, isn’t that haiku out-of-season? Isn’t it too early for spring? Ah, but it fits perfectly with the umeshu doesn’t it, taichou?”

Kira just ignored the whole drunken lot in favor of shaking Momo’s hands. For some reason, he seemed to be crying.

“Just a small new year’s gift, Hinamori-kun…ah…eto,” Kira mumbles all the while still vigorously shaking her hands. Only a strained furrow in his drooping brow signified his strain as if trying to remember something important amidst the drunken haze he was in, “My mistake,” he amends, “I mean, Hitsugaya-san.”

Perhaps it was the same furrow mirrored in the captain’s expression that caused him to remember, but in truth Hitsugaya’s expression wasn’t really directed at him. In truth, it wasn’t only Renji’s wife who was maybe slightly displeased with him.

“No need to be so formal, Kira-kun! We’ve known each other for ages.” Despite that she consented to be supported by her back, she wasn’t as fully nestled by his side like in her moments of true contentment where she would be languid and soft against him.

She was the perfect hostess so she’d never let anything in her expression show except a welcoming and bright smile, but Hitsugaya didn’t know her for centuries for nothing. The smile she had now had the same subtle curves as the exact same smile she showed him when she said, ‘What do you mean? Of course, I’m not angry, Shiro-chan, how silly,’ when he’d eaten the peaches she had apparently been saving when they were just carefree kids back in Jurinan. Moments like this made memories like that feel simultaneously as if they were eons ago and also as if they just happened yesterday.

Hitsugaya sighed.

“Momo, you know you can’t drink for a reason.”

Everyone in the party turned to look at him at that. True it was stern as was characteristic of Hitsugaya-taichou, but at the same time it sounded conciliatory. Perhaps that was why Momo let her smile fall, and let a slight pout overtake her features. Internally, Hitsugaya sighed with relief. He’d rather she shows that she was displeased with him than hide it.

“I know, but still for you to go so far as to ask everyone to bring plum wine, precisely because you know I don’t like it…” When Madarame-san and Ayasegawa-san brought some over, she thought nothing of it. When Hirako-taichou had dropped by in human world attire clapping Toshiro on the back with enough force that he fell, irritated and grumbling, and ruffling her hair softly as he placed the bottle and a new jazz vinyl in her hands, she thought it was a funny coincidence. But when even Nanao-san with the soutaichou dropped by, her with books and him with more of the stuff, that’s when she began to put two and two together.

Maybe it was a bit much for new year’s celebrations, but it had also been a housewarming of sorts, and Momo was touched with all of the small tokens of welcome and well-wishes. Pity it had to be something she wasn’t fond of. But Momo was nothing but gracious so she accepted it all.

Abarai-kun and Hisagi-senpai looked at each other sheepishly, while Kira-kun looked just about ready to drop at the thought of possibly having offended her with their gift, but Hitsugaya-taichou insisted, and you never said no to Hitsugaya-taichou when he used that tone (rather you never just said no to Hitsugaya-taichou period).

At least Matsumoto-san was thoughtful enough to bring peaches which was probably why she was giggling at their expense.

Seeing Kira-kun’s shaking legs and increasingly off color (he might faint with how white he was becoming), Momo decided to let up with a sigh. Looking up at her husband who was looking at her straightforwardly, Momo found that she really couldn’t stay mad especially when the person in question was sure he had done nothing wrong. And anyway he also mostly abstained from the alcohol, only taking a few sips in order not to be rude to their guests. She leaned into him even as Hitsugaya-kun teased her lightly, “You would have snuck a few sips if it was fruit wine.”

Feeling as if they were intruding into some soft and fluffy scene, the vice-captains couldn’t help but feel second-hand embarrassment at being the witnesses to a married couple’s fight (if it could even be called that).

“I hope Rukia and I aren’t as obnoxious as that,” Renji whispered discreetly.

“You totally are. It’s just that your lover’s quarrels are more explosive.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you Hinamori-kun, er I mean, Hitsugaya-san, no I mean Momo-kun!” For some inexplicable reason, Kira started crying into his arm again.

“Ahhh, taichou and Momo, could you stop making the rest of us feel so single?”

“Ahem, Rangiku-san, would you do me the honor of- “

“Yosh! That does it. Time to take this party over to the Kuchiki manor. I’m sure they’ll have some high-class sake!”

“Hey, wait a minute! When did I say- “ But Hisagi just slung his arm over Renji’s neck in a chokehold, while dragging Kira behind him. Hitsugaya privately commiserated, both with Abarai and Kuchiki. Matsumoto was a whirlwind who couldn’t be stopped. Feeling a migraine coming on at the prospect of having to pay for any potential damages, he almost didn’t notice Matsumoto sidle up to them and spirit Momo away for a careful, and yet cheerful hug. Nuzzling her cheek against Momo’s, she whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll sneak you some fruit wine sometime.”

Hitsugaya growled in warning at hearing that, “Matsumoto…” but Momo only laughed and hugged the buxom woman tightly, as his vice-captain winked at him. “After everything, taichou, I promise. Lieutenant’s honor.”

Hitsugaya calmed down, and sighed. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. Nonetheless he greeted his vice-captain, “Happy New Year, Matsumoto. I’ll be counting on you greatly for the upcoming year.”

“Thank you for visiting, Rangiku-san. Have a Happy New Year!”

With a lazy salute, she waved them both goodbye, and in a while they were both finally alone. Hitsugaya didn’t mind the company of his colleagues, while he knew Momo enjoyed it. Still, he didn’t want her to get too tired. Spying her drooping lids, he gently shook her, mindful of both her hands wrapping around her midsection, “Time for bed, sleepyhead.”

“Mmmm,” Momo yawned as she placed both arms around her husband’s neck while he scooped her up, “Hey, Shiro?”

“Hmm, what is it?”

“You know you’re going to have to drink all that sake right? And I won’t help with a single drop,” Momo giggled sleepily. As much as Momo disliked plums, she knew Hitsugaya-kun didn’t have a taste for alcohol either. Snuggling deeper into her husband’s broad shoulder, she smiled peacefully.

Hitsugaya blanched.  

“I’ll give some to Matsumoto.”

…

Momo felt a hand waking her from restful slumber.

Blearily opening one eye, she spotted Hitsugaya-kun already up with a bemused look on his face. He had always been the early riser between the two.

Stretching her arms and yawning, Momo fixed her hair while Hitsugaya-kun patiently waited beside her. It was still dark out. Her stomach suddenly grumbled, and while she might have been embarrassed about it before, with how often it kept happening these days, she just got used to it.

Hitsugaya-kun passed her a bowl of the leftover toshikoshi soba she’d prepared for them which she took gratefully, warming her hands on the reheated bowl.

She still felt slow as molasses, but luckily Hitsugaya-kun had always been alert. While she sleepily slurped at the noodles still only half awake, Hitsugaya-kun merely arranged her so she was comfortable leaning against his front. He even tucked her in their blankets, leaving none for himself since the cold didn’t bother him. Once he was assured that she was comfortable, he slowly opened their sliding doors so they could view the night sky. It was but a moment later that the inky blackness was replaced with slivers of rose light.

With no words passing between them, together they watched the first sunrise.

---

Hitsugaya fixed his tabi on the engawa as he waited for Momo. Not for the first time, he was gripped with that sense of déjà vu.

First sunrise. First shrine visit.

A lot of the firsts that he remembered in his life was with her.

Memory was a funny thing in Soul Society. While he remembered nothing of his old life, if he were to fix a point in time where his life started here, he found that she was always in his firsts - that her smiling face was the beginning of everything.  

First smile. First laughter. First friend.

First love.

Though he took a while to realize it. (Or perhaps like a circle, there had been no fixed point and some part of him had always known.)

Finished, he leaned back on his arms as he looked up at the withered branches. Though some things remained the same, perhaps a lot of things also changed. He remembers his first shrine visit with Momo and baachan. Back then he’d been impatient and rushing her so that they could get a move on already. But his grumbling had died in his throat when he saw her come out with a new yukata. It was nothing fancy, not even a kimono, but it was new. Everything about her then was new, from the first time he saw her put her hair up in a bun, small wild flowers threaded into the strands by baachan, to the new dusty pink yukata with plum blossoms scattered across it she had saved up for.

‘How do I look, Shiro-chan?’

‘…You look fine.’

It wasn’t even close to what he wanted to say, but only Momo would still smile brightly at him like that, leaving him dazed.

The plum blossoms were starting to bud, he noticed. Glancing down at his own kimono, he thought wryly that this was a far cry from the threadbare yukata he’d worn back then. Deep midnight blue and black, with whorls of clouds, on the back a great mighty dragon, shining in white as it rushed alongside a surging river, such that you wouldn’t know where the river ended and the dragon began. Truthfully, it was a bit ostentatious for his own tastes, but baachan had sent it and baachan had probably made it, so he would wear it gratefully.

Hearing the sliding doors open, he turned, a teasing remark of, ‘Finally done?’ at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t even get the chance.

How could he even say anything?

Just there, Momo in a resplendent silk furisode, cloaked in white and vermillion. She gave him a little twirl and he spied the phoenix at her back, feathered tail curling all over her, along with flowers bright red and yellow, exploding like fireworks. There were subtle patterns of teal and green that matched his eyes, while her hair was held up with a matching red kanzashi, stray locks curling over her ear and feathering her forehead.

Separated by years, two moments in time, and he still finds that his breath catches.

“How do I look, Shiro?”

A blush on her cheeks, eyes sparkling, happy and at peace.

He smiled.

“You look beautiful.”

Some things changed, but some things would always stay the same.

…

“I wonder if baasan got our card,” Momo murmured thoughtfully as she rubbed the silk between her two fingers. Hitsugaya-kun just hummed and nodded as he made a path for the two of them in the crowd, hand gripping hers firmly. She continued touching the silk with her other hand, softly marveling. It really was beautiful. Baasan must have started as soon as she finished with their wedding clothes to get these to them on time. The subtly sparkling white on her furisode reminded her of her shiromuku safely put away back in their private quarters at home, while the black in Hitsugaya-kun’s kimono reminded her of his montsuki. Baasan had playfully added Hyourinmaru’s four-point star as a crest, while lamenting that she couldn’t decide if she wanted Momo to wear white, or a colorful iro-uchikake.

Watching the softly falling snow outside, she had made the decision for her. Momo loved white. Baasan had only chuckled and said next time then. Letting the long sleeve fall smoothly from her hand like water, Momo smiled wondering if this was her version. This wasn’t their first shrine visit since they were married, but it was still a kind of first nonetheless.

Hitsugaya-kun briefly glanced back at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll visit her soon.” She nodded, still smiling at him.

…

“Yatta, I got great blessing! What did you get, Hitsugaya-kun?” Momo looked pleased with herself and that was more than enough for Toshiro, even as she couldn’t help her giggle at seeing his own fortune, sue-sho-kichi, small blessing to come. Toshiro wasn’t superstitious, but was the small really necessary?

Toshiro wasn’t superstitious but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. Momo tended to pull out good fortunes, almost always Dai-kichi, sometimes Chu-kichi. If the overwhelming misfortune she faced meant that the cosmic scale was being tipped back in her favor, then Toshiro thought that there was justice after all.

She traced the characters on her fortune, machibito, a person being expected or waited for, “The person you’re waiting for will come,” she mouthed softly, even as Toshiro’s heart jolted at seeing shussan on her fortune slip.

Even in moments of calm like this, sometimes the anxiety would spike up. To shake off the silly urge of wanting to bite his thumb nail he smoothed over endan and negaigoto on his own slip almost obsessively.

Hirako once told him that everything in reverse would come the right side way up eventually. He didn’t put much stock in the other captain’s words, and much less did he put stock in pieces of paper, but if they meant that Momo would have a lifetime of fortune and happiness, then he would believe them wholeheartedly. It was nothing less than she deserved. And if nothing else, he’ll believe in himself. He’ll will those fortunes to reality if he had to.

“These are good fortunes, aren’t they Hitsugaya-kun?”

They were.

…

Just before they were about to pray, Momo suddenly asked him, “What did you dream about, Hitsugaya-kun?”

“Nothing much, just the past.”

Momo suddenly chuckled, “I had an auspicious first dream, a hawk flying high in the sky.”

“Oh,” Toshiro raised a brow, questioning. People talked about signs all they liked but it was actually rare to dream about them.

Momo smiled sheepishly, “Hehe, well to be exact I dreamed about the first time Hitsugaya-kun showed me his bankai. I remember being so amazed at seeing you fly.”

Toshiro’s brow raised even higher, “So I’m a bird now, is that it? You know you can’t just make up signs like that.”

Momo just smiled back impishly. “I’m collecting luck. It’s a lucky sign if I say it is. It’s up to us to make our own happiness after all.”

Toshiro just sighed in fond exasperation, he’ll tell her later if she asked but he had dreamed about a moment in the past. It wasn’t a specific moment, in fact it could have been every moment, but he had dreamed of a simple scene of them eating watermelons and watching the sunset.

It had been so tranquil that when he woke up he was disoriented at how Momo seemed to have grown overnight while Granny was nowhere to be found. Had she snuck into his bed to sleep again? Concerned, he wondered if she had another nightmare, before noticing her clasped hands in front of her. It hit him all over again, like a kidou spell, the immense but quiet happiness. Uncharacteristic of him, he had woken her because he couldn’t contain himself. The scene of watching the sunset in his dreams replaced with watching the sunrise. They had been surrounded by the mountains of their hometown in his dreams. Perhaps that counted?

A clap interrupts his reverie. Softly but enough for him to hear, Momo releases her prayer for the gods to hear as well, ‘may they be clever and strong’.

Toshiro contemplates whether or not to tell her that prayers were usually silent, but he decides against it. He doesn’t mind. Anyway, he knows what his own prayer will be.

It’s the one he’s been wishing for every night for the past year.

…

Hatsuyuki ya suisen na ha na no tawamu made  

The first snow Just enough to bend The daffodil leaves

“I thought that you wanted your first calligraphy to be…”

“I know, I know what I said, but I can’t seem to think of anything,” Momo’s eyes as she looks up at him are pleading.

Stroking her head to calm her, he then picks up the paper to carefully store away. “It’s still good.”

Momo pouts slightly perhaps thinking he was only placating her. Unfurling it, Toshiro observes it more closely, “No really, it’s good. As always your handwriting is almost too pretty,” he smirks. Momo only puffs out her cheeks and crossed her arms pretending to be offended. Really her husband could still be so childish sometimes, finding it hard to say what he wanted to say. But Momo could still read him just the same. To him, anything she said or did was beautiful. She was beautiful. It was as simple as that.

Cupping his chin in hand, he asked her, “Do you want this here? I can place it in the entranceway.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I made it for the tenth division. I hope Rangiku-san also likes it.”

“You know her. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Finally putting the paper away, he dragged over another writing desk to place in front of her. It was easier to move around and sit without his captain’s cloak over his shoulders. He can’t remember the last time he went so long without wearing it. “Speaking of Matsumoto, I hope the tenth division barracks is still standing.”

“Hush,” she chides, even as she smiles and puts brush to paper to begin another stroke, “You know Rangiku-san can be counted on when it really matters.”

Copying her, he also drew a straight line downwards, though perhaps less elegant looking. His strokes were blunt and precise, sometimes heavy-handed in places where the ink would bleed out, much the same as him. He was good at dispensing reports quickly and efficiently, but wasn’t really suited to crafting pieces of art (unless it was with blade and ice), slowly and with care. This was more Kira’s domain, or Momo’s. She could get so absorbed in each stroke that perhaps an hour would pass before she was finished with just one kanji. She wrote like she drew, as if there was meaning and an entire world in each line that made up a character. And perhaps for her there was. “I know, I know. I haven’t even had any reports yet so they can’t be doing too badly without me.”

He hadn’t said anything, but perhaps Matsumoto sensed that he would prefer not to be bothered unless it was truly an emergency. She was an excellent vice-captain like that, although he rarely said it out loud. Again, perhaps, many would call it uncharacteristic of him, that he wasn’t worrying every minute about his squad but he had enough on his mind and in his heart right now. Gazing at Momo in front of him, humming as she added another stroke, he let out a subtle sigh of relief.

He could leave it up to Matsumoto.

…

It’s Momo who wakes him up this time around, brimming with excitement.

“Shiro-chan, look! It’s snowing!”

How nostalgic, he thinks sleepily at hearing her laugh, ‘she hasn’t called me that in ages.’

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, anxiety once again begins to creep in, contrasting his wife’s honest pleasure. ‘Won’t it be too cold for her?’ There were times in the middle of the night when he would unconsciously place space between the both of them, memories flashing back to those early days when he couldn’t control his powers. But without fail and as if she had some sixth sense for it, she would only draw nearer, looping hands and legs together so he would find it harder to escape, mumbling incoherent things all the while as she drooled on him. He had no choice then but to fall blissfully back into sleep.

Noticing her husband’s contemplative gaze as he looked outside, Momo sighed and wagged a finger to catch his attention, “No messing with the weather, Shiro. I’m fine.” Cross-eyed, Toshiro reluctantly nodded. “Good,” she chirped. One crisis averted she snuggled closer, and waited for him to put his arms around her.

Suddenly and without warning, colors bloomed in the sky, a multitude of flowers sparkling brightly and dazzling. Momo could only gasp in delight.

‘Fireworks in the snow, huh?’ A far-off memory that couldn’t hurt them now.

Certainly, it was too cold, but drawing the presence nestled in his arms even more closely to him, Toshiro found that he didn’t mind. The fireworks were spectacular yes, but his gaze was permanently drawn downwards. Blue, red, yellow, pink played off across her face in flashes. He could watch fireworks forever illuminated in her eyes. There, they would never fizzle out, the sparks would never die, rather they would shine brightly forever, so long as she kept looking at him.

Suddenly overcome with feeling, he wanted exactly that. He could only whisper her name, even if there were only the two of them, “Momo…”

“Hmmm,” she responded turning to meet his eyes with her own despite the display continuing above them, “What is it, Shiro-cha –“

He was a patient man, he was. And he’ll ask forgiveness for interrupting her later, but at this moment, he wanted nothing more than her lips on his. He should let her get some rest, he should, his mind was clearly telling him that he should, so why was his treacherous body tightening his arms around her, one hand roughly weaving fingers in her hair as he tilted her head back.

She was no better, fingers wound as tightly in his own hair, drawing out a soft groan he tried to muffle against her neck, as he kissed it feverishly, softly biting to leave blooms of his own on the milky skin, a counterpoint to the flowers up in the sky. Hyoten Hyakkaso without his zanpakuto, though these flower burned rather than froze.

There were times he was deathly afraid he would freeze her, but right now, nothing else plagued his mind besides her, and as he drew her down with him, for once he didn’t mind the snow, for he was sure he could warm her as long as he kept her close.

Up in the sky, the fireworks brightly shined and illuminated them both.

…

They write together quietly, Momo occasionally showing him a character to ask his opinion on it. She had already finished with the first one, excitedly showing it to him in a bit of feverish excitement.

The strokes for ‘flower’ and ‘fire’ were lively and vibrant. It matched her perfectly. Toshiro had agreed immediately.

It was the second one they were having trouble with. Toshiro had suggested the characters for ‘spring’ and ‘tree’. It reminded Momo of Tobiume, and Momo didn’t exactly mind it for ‘spring’ matched with his own ‘winter’, but something still felt out of place.

“Isn’t it too early for spring?” In truth, it was more that she wanted more of him reflected in these strokes and lines. She places ‘sun’ next to ‘happiness’.

Hitsugaya-kun only shrugs. Momo could only smile at him fondly. “I hope they’re more like you,” she says as she idly traces the strokes for ‘wish’.

Hitsugaya-kun merely smirks back at her. “Then looks like we’re in conflict since I hope they’ll take after you.”

Momo sticks out her tongue in playful indignation. “I’m sure the kami-sama will listen to my request over yours. I’ve been collecting more luck after all.” ‘Clever and strong,’ was what she had prayed for, ‘just like their father’.

Hitsugaya-kun shakes his head in amusement. Peering over to her side, he looks at what she’s been working on, “That could work.”

Momo hums thoughtfully, looking at the character this way and that. It seems perfect – a wish, a hope, a prayer – but it didn’t seem to be quite exactly what they were looking for.

“What have you got?” She leans more to his side, before bursting into a fit of laughter. If Hitsugaya-kun is embarrassed, he makes a valiant effort not to show it. On his paper, the character for ‘big’ in bold, black, strokes. Momo’s face softens at seeing the character under it, ‘shine’. It might be her own imagination that it seems like it’s glowing.

“They’re perfect.”

…

They made it just in time for the fire festival. Perhaps it was incongruous for them to be burning something they’d been working on for days, but this was just its own kind of prayer.

Both of them hold paper lanterns, in his, ‘Hanabi’ in her own script, in hers, ‘Haruki’ in his. Small bright lights cupped into the palms of their hands. As one they let both lanterns go, up in the sky, where they’ll burn brightly and send all their prayers up to the sky.

Fervently, Momo clasps her hands together, Toshiro a steady and unwavering presence around her.

She hopes.

…

Even if they had hoped for peace to continue, truly their idyllic days couldn’t last. They were still commanding officers, and when Matsumoto shows up on their doorstop one day, he knows exactly what it means.

He knows, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Rangiku likes it no more than her taichou. She can’t even tease the both of them over the marks she spies not covered by Momo’s kimono. “Taichou…It’s Naruki City.”

He closes his eyes in aggravation, fingers closed over the bridge of his nose to stave off the migraine, as Momo and his Vice-captain look at him concerned.

For once, he wants to be selfish. It’s so close, too close. For once, he wants to forget about his captain’s cloak and his responsibilities and just stay here to shelter Momo from everything. Opening his eyes, he meets Momo’s own and is both equally dismayed and encouraged by the resolve he finds there.

Momo didn’t become a Shinigami to be protected. She became a Shinigami to protect. And it’s the same for him (except doesn’t she know by now, after everything, that she was the one he wanted to protect most of all).

Without words, she goes to get his captain’s cloak. If she feels his hands shake as she helps him put it on, then at least only she would know.

She cradles his face in her hands, arms going up to reach him now instead of down. He doesn’t know what she sees in his face, if it looks like he’s about to cry, but she only smiles calmly, ruffling his hair. When before, he had swatted her hand away, now he only leans into the simple comfort. He closes his eyes as he feels Momo draw him down and touch her forehead to his. His erratic heartbeat slows at hearing her breathe.

“I’m off.”

“Please go and come back,” she says as she bows on the engawa. There is no fear in her eyes, only trust as if telling him, ‘go and I’ll be here to welcome you when you return’. He wishes it was the same for him. He swallows before turning forward. He stops Matsumoto with a hand to her shoulder.

He has no words. “Matsumoto…”

Eyes widening in understanding, she starts worriedly, “The reports say there are at least five arrancars, taichou. I already commanded the rest of the troops stationed there to come back. I was planning to handle them myself…but the soutaichou said the both of us needed to be there.” Hitsugaya was glad she didn’t go by herself. He appreciated the soutaichou intervening on his behalf. Knowing Matsumoto, she would have rushed there headstrong and foolish for his sake.

All the points she raised were valid ones, but again all he could say was, “Matsumoto, please…” I need you here.  

There were moments where no words needed to be said, and the communication between a captain and vice-captain could be almost telepathic. This was one such moment, and as Rangiku gazed up at her not-so-little anymore captain, she could only smile in resignation, “Gotcha, taichou. But when you come back, I’m expecting an all-expense paid vacation. I’ve been working my butt off! Hey, Momo,” she called back, already making her way into the house, as Momo gazed at him with a question in her eyes, “Let’s go together!” Hitsugaya only smiled back.

Committing the sight of his wife and vice-captain smiling together, he tightened his grip on Hyourinmaru and set off.

…

Both his mind and body were on auto-pilot. He was glad Hyourinmaru had his back. It wasn’t like back then when his zanpakuto had to artificially mature him just so he could handle his own bankai. He had fully matured in all senses of the word, and had full mastery of his true bankai.

It was good that he was alone. There was no collateral damage except the enemy so he could release Shikai Hyoketsu without repercussions. But without Matsumoto there to support him, he felt more alone than ever.

He was getting tired. He lost count of how many enemies he had slain, of his own wounds and bruises. There was only one thought in his mind – to get home no matter what.

Using his sword as a crutch, he breathed out heavily before suddenly slashing out Hyoryu Senbi at the new presence he felt.

The shadow dodged and clicked his tongue. “Is that anyway ta greet yer elders? Ya look like you’ve been through hell. Need a little hand?”

Disoriented, Hitsugaya could only gape at the newcomer, “Hirako?”

“The one and only.”

Hitsugaya might have thought he was hallucinating but there was no mistaking that too-wide grin and tacky haircut. “What are you doing here? Naruki City isn’t under your jurisdiction.”

That carefree smile suddenly turned serious, “No it’s not, but I know someone who is under my jurisdiction. And I’m sure she’s missin’ a neglectful husband.” Hitsugaya growled at that. “What’re ya doin’ here? Do I have ta tell my daughter to divorce you?”

“For the last time,” a vein ticked in his forehead, this seemed like an eerily familiar experience he was having, “She is not your daughter! And anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

He might have if not for another presence suddenly jumping in, “Oh, what? Am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel or something.”

“Nah, just an in-laws spat.”

What the hell?  

He couldn’t decide what expression he was supposed to be showing. Maybe Hirako decided to finally take pity on him as he decided to answer him. “The soutaichou sent us because it looks like someone forgot to bring their vice-captain.” Heh, more like they persuaded him. Even if that softie hadn’t already been ready to pull him out after hearing he stupidly went alone, Shinji’s sure Lisa’s kick to his backside, and Nanao-chan’s sharp glare would just about do the trick. Eh, a few misplaced forms never hurt anyone. “Color me surprised when I found out Naruki City was actually under the fifth and the eight’s joint jurisdiction. Who coulda been so stupid as to put it under the tenth’s all this time?”

Hitsugaya didn’t know what was going on.

Shinji sighed. The kid could be so slow sometimes. “Oi, Hitsugaya. Lisa also brought her vice-captain. I’m sure two captains and a vice-captain would be more efficient than one captain. Yer not needed here, so wouldja just hurry on to where you’re supposed ta be already?”

Finally shaken out of his stupor, he could say nothing. He put his own misgivings aside, and bowed low.

“Thank you.”

As the tenth squad captain shunpoed out of there, Shinji let out a whistle. “What d’ya know? The kid has manners after all. Let’s hurry this up Lisa. I got a grandchild to welcome.” “Lame,” Lisa replied, completely deadpan.

He let it off.

It was a joyous occasion after all.

…

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t at home.

His mind was perfectly blank.

He couldn’t feel her reiatsu anywhere.

“Hitsugaya-taichou!”

What was his seventh seat doing here?

“Matsumoto fuku-taichou brought Hitsugaya fuku-taichou to the fourth.”

Hitsugaya-taichou immediately left without even greeting him, but Takezoe didn’t hold it against his captain. With a dozen children of his own, he’d been where the young man was now. He only hoped his captain would make it in time.

…

He doesn’t remember how he reached the fourth, only overwhelming panic.

He could feel the temperature lowering, but only distantly, the calls of his title heard in a vacuum as if he was somewhere very far away.

‘Hitsugaya-taichou, please reign down your reiatsu.’

‘Taichou, please control it, it might affect the patients.’

‘It might affect…’

“Taichou!”

He felt as if he was roughly woken up from sleep. Heavily, he lifted his head up, “Matsumoto…”

“Taichou,” Rangiku said more softly. Her little captain wasn’t so little anymore. More than once he’d had to support her when Shiba-taichou left, and even after…

But now, as she sees how he trembles under her hands on his shoulders, subtly curling into himself, eyes haunted, she is taken back to years past, to a little boy so afraid of hurting the people he loves.

Matsumoto’s voice brings him back. He can sense a cacophony of reiatsu, all mingling together, that it was hard to tell them all. Abarai with his daughter, both Kuchikis even, Kira, Hisagi, his squad, members from other squads, her friends, their colleagues, their friends.

But that only serves to forcefully remind him that he was doing it again, he can’t stop it, he’s the greatest danger to those around him, to her, he can’t ever protect her, and as he shivers, the ice creeps up even faster.

“Taichou,” Matsumoto says, voice still soft. Placing her palm firmly against his heart, she pleads, “Please. Listen.”

Boy

A thunderous sound, more presence than voice. Hyourinmaru

Shiro-chan

Toshiro

A sound like wind-chimes, laughter threading every word. He gasps.

“It’s alright,” Matsumoto assures him, smiling brightly. “She’s alright. She knows you’re here.”

…

In the end, both their wishes are granted.

Both their children have her hair, hers lit like a coal flame, his softer and reminding him of forests and trees, the coming of spring. His hair was too unique to be passed onto anyone else, she manages to joke, but no matter because she still got what she wished for. Rubbing both chubby cheeks and coaxing both eyes to open, he sees what she means when he sees his own eyes reflected back at him. Brightly shining with an inner light.

They would shine brightly, he vows to himself, as he envelops her, all of them, to him, while he buries his face against her hair.

“Shiro-chan,” she laughs, the happiest she’s been, “Are you crying?” She hardly if ever has seen him cry. She nuzzles her cheek to his. “What am I to do with my crybaby husband?”

He can’t even manage his usual ‘shut up’ amidst his tears, only hugging them closer.  Thank you.

Momo smiles. The person you’re waiting for will come.

He did. They did.

They were all home.

Okaerinasai.

[unxpctedlybleach]

[pinkhairedlily]

Your Feet (Tus Pies)

Prompt: Letter | AO3 link here | Happy HitsuHina Week! @hitsuhina-week ✏📝✉💙

Tens of letters spill out of Hitsugaya’s locker. It isn’t Valentine’s Day or any other holiday, it is just that – a normal day for the stoic heartthrob of the school. He finds love too taxing, wondering how he could fit in the dates among his tennis practices, academic decathlons, and volunteer time in the campus greenhouse. Or maybe it is just a matter of preference and he saw no one yet who could fit his standards.

That is, if he even knows his own standards. So the letters all go to the nearby trash can as he joins his friends in the classroom.

It catches him off guard when he finds the perpetually vacant seat in front of him by the window occupied by a rather familiar face. Brown eyes catches his gaze and recognition flashes across her features, but she doesn’t say hi to him and averts her gaze away from him and directs it on the Pablo Neruda book she’s reading.

“Oh, it’s the transferee Momo Hinamori,” his friend leans in to whisper. “Might become an addition to your long list of your admirers?”

Hitsugaya shrugs and proceeds to his seat. He hesitates whether he should start up a conversation or act like she does. Maybe she doesn’t remember him at all? Yeah, maybe that was the case after all.

By some stroke of luck, her locker is beside his, and she hides a surprised smile when he grumbles at the sight of new batch of letters inside.

“I should duct tape the opening,” Hitsugaya mutters to himself, half-intending to do it by tomorrow. It’s getting worse after all.

Their interactions are limited despite the proximity of their seats. She sometimes acknowledged him with a nod, but she never struck up a conversation with him. She also found a set of friends rather quickly. If he recalled correctly, she was always the friendlier one.

The inevitable moment came around when he saw her tending to the snapdragons one afternoon. No one really takes this job because of the perennial weeds, the mosquitoes, and the bugs, and the time slots are way beyond club hours. He stands there for a while, hoping she realizes he’s already there to take over her shift, but she’s so engrossed with watering and weeding….and apparently, singing. The most he can do right now is clear his throat. Her back straightens like a rod when she hears him, and she shifts her hat a little lower to cover her embarrassed face.

And here he is right now, throwing caution to the wind. “It’s my turn so you can go home now.”

Hinamori stands up and slightly cleans the imaginary creases in her skirt. “Great to see you again, Shiro.”

And just like that, she brings him back to that memory in the playground and the tunnels they used to hide in when they were kids.

“It’s weird talking to you when you’re literally the talk of the campus.” Hinamori gives him an apologetic look. “I thought your admirers would swarm me if they knew you had a female friend but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Hitsugaya awkwardly stays rooted in his place, unable to respond at her statement. She remembers him.

“Ah, you don’t remember me, do you?” Hinamori chuckles to herself and starts to walk away from him.

“Momo.” She glances back when he called her name. “You scraped your knee when you were ten. You had to hide in the tunnels with me because it was raining and you were scared of thunder.”

“And you gave me your super oversized jacket to huddle under.”

“It was actually my grandma’s.”

“Oh here,” she closes the space between them and hands him the sprinkler. “I haven’t finished watering the last two flower beds. Sorry about that.”

Hitsugaya takes the sprinkler. “It’s my shift so that’s all right.”

She smiles before disappearing from his view. It’s a good change, he thinks while continuing the watering task. To be able to converse without putting any pretense.

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

It was a tall order, Hitsugaya surmised when she continued to act like she didn’t know him in the following weeks. Unsurprisingly, she would greet him like an old friend would when their shifts would overlap in the greenhouse.

When the school trip season came around, he wondered if he should do something to resolve the hovering weird atmosphere between the two of them. It didn’t take too long when they got stuck inside a museum in a local town during a thunderstorm. There was a limited exhibition of paintings that day which revolved around the works of her favorite author – Pablo Neruda – and showcased convergences of his views on revolution and passion. She was immersed with the pieces until the first strike of the lightning.

He looks for her group of friends and finds her missing.

A few minutes of walking around, and he sees her crouching behind a wall with an illustrated text of Your Laughter, her knees to her chest, her hands on her ears, a carbon copy of the shivering ten-year old her. Hitsugaya takes off his uniform blazer and drapes it on her head. The lighting flashes outside through the wide glass panels of the museum, and she instinctively makes herself even smaller in anticipation of the rumbling sound. He slides next to her on the floor, subtly offering his presence as her comfort, but he gets taken aback when she holds onto his arm and brings him closer just as the thunder cracks and bellows.

For that particular moment, he finds himself thanking the storm.

It finally dies down after half an hour, and the adviser decides to move to the next location. Hinamori, who finally calmed down, returns the blazer to Hitsugaya.

“You’re saving me every time,” she says to him as he helps her up.

“Yeah so you should stop pretending like we’re not friends.” Hitsugaya smirks and walks toward his group, not bothering to get his blazer from Hinamori.

Later, he finds his blazer worn by her in the bus. She’s seated near the vents so it’s kind of understandable then he notices that it’s one size bigger than her, and her own blazer is bunched inside her bag, the sleeve peeking from the zipper. He unconsciously smiles, smitten again, despite the years.

After the trip, she greets him good morning and casual hellos. The rumors start circulating but he pays no mind, and neither does she. They’re just friends, after all, right?

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

She finds the letter in her locker after finals. “Ah, Shiro, someone mistook my locker for yours.” She puts the letter on top of the growing stack on his hands.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” He clears his throat.

“Yes, I think so.” She waves him goodbye and joins her other friends at the gate.

The next day, she finds the same letter on her desk. A little bit annoyed now, she almost slaps the letter as she turns around to face him. “A mix-up again today, Shiro. They really should talk to you in person.”

Hitsugaya’s temples are throbbing. Maybe next time.

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

He slides it in her bag the following week, at least that’s what he thought. When her friend picks up what is supposedly her bag, he stands up so fast he almost stumbles on a chair.

“Wait.” Hitsugaya calls across the room.

But the friend is already checking the back of the envelope. “From Hitsugaya?”

“Oh my god, a confession!” their classmates’ attention all turned to Hinamori’s friend. “Open it! Open it!”

“He ACTUALLY has feelings!”

“You’re so lucky!”

Hinamori slips away from the crowd silently, but his eyes are only focused on her receding figure.

“Momo – “ the friend starts before Hitsugaya ripped the letter from her hand. “Oh, just as we thought.”

“What just as you thought?” He’s angry. It might be the first time they see him as riled up as this. Not during tennis games, not when he’s super annoyed with his throng of admirers, not when he’s being teased by his friends.

“We keep telling her it was for her, but she won’t believe us,” her friend says. “So we swapped bags!”

“You should take Hinamori’s advice Shiro and go tell her personally,” his other friend tells him from across the room.

“Go for it, stoic heartthrob.”

“Would you shut up?” Has he been this transparent all this time?

“But you’ll go after her, right? Go now, Shiro.” His friend won’t stop teasing him even as Hitsugaya buries dagger stares his way. He huffs indignantly, taking large steps towards the door, and shuffles quickly, outrunning the supportive screams of his classmates.

Oh how the tables have turned.

He finds her tending to the fully bloomed snapdragons, her face almost the same color with the petals. He doesn’t go to her, but he opens the crumpled piece of paper on his hand.

“Momo Hinamori.” He glances at her but she doesn’t meet his gaze. As expected, but he treads on. “Momo Hinamori, I want you to read this poem from Pablo Neruda, made it specifically kid-friendly for our age though – “

“Ah no, please stop, Shiro.”

“If you’re gonna reject me, at least let me say the whole letter first.”

Hinamori swipes the letter from his hands and heaves a big sigh. “I will read it myself.”

But he continues. “When I cannot look at your face, I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet. I know that they support you and that your gentle weight rises upon them. But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.”

Hinamori stares back at him this time, obviously unsure what to say. “That’s kind of a cliché.”

“So?”

“I will read your letter first.”

“Do you want me to recite that poem again?”

“I think it needs more feelings.”

“You’re just teasing me right now, aren’t you?”

His locker finally stops having letters by the next term, but her locker receives one every week, and she asks him to recite each during their shift in the greenhouse much to his chagrin. Her laughter makes it all worthwhile though.

Original poem here. Music used? Well, Yoasobi has been in repeat this week. :>

[yume-tsuki]

Bleach next generation sketchs

don’t be picky about the sketchs, I wanted to doodle not to make perfect pictures^^. I know the feet are missing, or my beloved Ichika looks a bit sketchy. pic1  Kazui Kurosaki  A try drawing Kazui as teen. (!!no official stuff just my thoughts.!)  I thought about his Zanpaktou having the power to attack weak spots. He also ownes the a pretty good healing power of his mother. She also gave him one of the blue hairclips   Isane saw him and asked him if he could think about him beeing part of the 4.Division.And here he tries it. Hiyoshin Hirako the oldest of Shinji and Hiyori’s kids I’m not sure about his Division but he isn’t in  his fathers. Some of the older alredy say that he  is a lot like his father. Zanpakutou:( burn ) Nokoribi Nomikomu He likes Ichika. In the past he and Kazui had a crush on her but weren’t jealous on each other. Reina Ishida A Quinci  The daughter of Uryu. Kazui  has a crush on her.They havn’t known each other till teen age. She wears typical quincy weapons. _____________________________________________________ pic2   Momoka Hirako the youngest daughter of Shinji and Hiyori, she ownes a lot of her mothers attitue. If Hiyoshin is like his father she is like her mother. Also  she is a person, if she believes in something she burnes for it.  First she is in her fathers Division later she is a Ganancia.  Zanpakutou:  (Buzz )Bakuhatchi  Ganancia Zanpakutou Kobukiri Orochi  Ichika Abarai I love her, but she is so difficult to draw. Here she sadly looks so sketchy. Here she is in her Shikai form- (maybe I change a bit but it should look like  a moth) Zanpakutou (Sing) Susei Gatsuki She ownes a chain braiclet she got from Hiyoshin to protect her. He got it as kid from Orihime. It ownes protecting powers. Suzuko Urahara She is trained under Yoruichi and the daughter of Soifon and Kisuke Urahara. She lives in the human world and is often to see working at the store with her best friend Fumiko Hirako or hunting down hollows. Yoroichi ones said that she could be even faster and stronger as she one day when she finished her training. Becouse she has Soifon’s speed and Uraharas powers and wisdoms. Zanpakuto (part yourself) Amatsu ______________________________________________________ pic3 Akemi Hirako the second oldest of Shinji and Hiyori. She has all the beauty of her father. Even when she is human and Model she is able to use Kido spells. Like all of Shinji and Hiyori’s children. It was important for them that their kids can fight Hollows to protect themselves. Fumiko Hirako she is number 4 of  Shinji and Hiyori’s. She is often at Urahara’s store and it sells pretty well since she turns the lead. She and Suzuko are best friends. When Suzuko is after a Hollow, Fumiko helps her with searching machines and equitment. Takuma Hirako The second son of Shinji and Hiyori He is cook he loves to cook since he was a kids. He lives on the seaside and is often on the ocean. He uses his modified knife his sister made for him, like a Quincy weapon, to fight. ________________________________________________________________ pic4 Kasui Shiranui/ Harumi Hitsugaya Toshiro’s and Karin’s first born. He is named after Grandma Haru. She died some years before when Toshiro returned and learned about his loss Karin helped him to cheer up again.  He and his mother got into an accident, falling from a 3 meter high cliff in the woods. Since then he is missing. He got rescued from someone of the Soul Society. He is later part of the Ganancia.   The Shinigami cloths are because I couldn’t come up with an other idea and he was the first one I doodled. He lost his mind  and thinks he is Kasui Shiranui. Zanpakutou (Hunt and kill) Moeru Kiba Mei Hitsugaya and Ai Hitsugaya Both are born 7 months after Harumi’s missing. When they were little Matsumoto often took them to her captains office because they were so cute. Also Karin often thinks about her and Yazu when she talks about them. I’m not sure if they own powers jet. Maybe Mei because she is a lot like her  mother.  Now that I reread and love Bleach again I couldn’t help myself to fall in love with some ships.  First of all Shiyori *v* then I feld in love with HitsuKarin..... >3> I stil remember that I loved HinaHitsu back then when I watched it first. But she realy loves Aizen I guess... Hina is also so cool <3 I loved her in the Zanpakutou arc I watched. And than at last a ship I never thought that it triggers me but I#’m so damn weak to hatelove stuff>3>  the ship UraharaxSoifon. They never would be a normal couple/Family but can maybe love each other with some distance. (I also read an adorable perfect ff <3)

[magical-girl-coral]

I mean... if u WANT asks, if u have any thoughts on Hitsugaya & Hinamori doin weird sibling shit, u should share :o if that's not ur speed then gimme a wild card.

Momo and Toshiro have a similar dynamic to how my older brother treats me so I bet Momo could so fucking frustrated with Toshiro sometimes. Like the little dude would probably have guards at her home with how overprotective he can be.

And even though Toshiro is the youngest, he acts like his the older of the two. He would probably tell her to walk home safe or when to wear a scarf (while forgetting to wear one too) and Momo will have to constantly remind that she's the eldest and it's her job to do the pestering.

Also, remember that time Toshiro stood behind Momo to enter dramatically and she called him out on it? He totally does that more than once and secretly laughs to himself every time she jumps out of her skin.

I bet Momo curses like a sailor too and Toshiro would have the instinct of covering his ears because their grandma taught them better than that, Hinamori!

(He's the youngest captain to date and still covers his ears when someone curses. What a cutie)

Honestly, this is all I have for "weird siblings shenanigans" at the moment because together relationship and Toshiro himself are so fucking sad that every headcanon is taking me straight to angst town.

[hinamoria]

Hitsuhina Week 2021 : Day 1

Hitsuhina Week 2021 : Day 1- Nickname / Hot and cold

Rating: K

Synopsis: Momo remembers the origin of her nickname: Bed wetter Momo

Word Count: 1801 words

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! My first participation at the Hitsuhina week is here. I hope you like it! I had fun writing it \(^.^)/

English isn’t my first language so excuse myself for any typos <3

----

“Shiro-chan!” Hinamori greeted cheerfully as she walked through the doors of the Tenth Division office. “We're going to eat yakitoris with Matsumoto-san and other lieutenants. Are you joining us? "

Hitsugaya, sitting at his desk, frowned at the famous nickname his childhood friend refused to forget, and declined the invitation.

"I have a lot of work to finish," he complained, putting an extra sheet of paper on the already tall pile of his desk. "Maybe next time," he added, afraid to upset his friend. "And Hinamori, for the umpteenth time, it's captain Hitsugaya."

"But Hitsugaya-kun, that nickname is perfect for you!" she replied, keeping her smile.

A perfect nickname from Hinamori's point of view. In harmony with the white and shiny hair like snow of her friend.

"Do you hear me calling you by your childhood nickname yet?” Sighed the captain.

Momo laughed lightly as she thought about it. "Bed Wetter Momo" was much less flattering than “Shiro chan”. Especially since it was referring to a single accident and therefore absolutely no more relevant today.

And yet, even though she wouldn’t like to be called that way again today, she still had a certain melancholy as she remembered the event where it’s from. Somehow, that night, Shiro-chan had for the first time given her a kind gesture.

It happened soon after arriving in Rukongai, when she was eight years old.

She still remembered the hustle and bustle, the lost people trying to get information about what was happening to them, and her in the middle desperately looking for her mom or her plush that she must have dropped something. It must be here. She remembered holding it during her last moments of life. So it couldn't be very far.

It was the end of her old life on Earth. Nowadays, it was just a vague memory. The faces of her biological family had gradually faded. She remembered that her mother had brown hair, often tied up in a bun. Momo may have subconsciously imitated her while growing up. But had she hazel eyes like her or were they a different color? She could no longer remember it.

A cholera epidemic had hit the country, killing thousands of people. Antibiotics did not exist at the time, so the chances of escaping it, especially for a child, were almost nil. Momo didn't end up in pain for long.

At the entrance to Rukongai, men and women dressed in black kimonos, whom she later knew as shinigamis, gave instructions to people around her. They were divided into groups. She was going to go to district number one, "Junrinan". She didn't know this place, but thought she heard the term "lucky" from a shinigami.

Looking back 100 years after, she understood how true it was. Especially after hearing Abarai-kun's stories.

Each person was taken to a different dwelling. Very little explanation was given. Sometimes locals sighed when they saw a new arrival, but others greeted them with a big smile. Her journey ended in front of a wooden house with a small earthen courtyard in front and two imposing shoji-style doors at the entrance.

A lady with gray hair tied in a bun opened the door and smiled at Momo.

"Is that the little new one?" She asked in a voice marked by time.

The shinigami nodded and left the area without another word. His behaviour may have seemed rude, but the little lady ignored it. Momo watched him go with slight fear, but returned her attention to the stranger who began to speak to him.

"Welcome my dear. What's your name? "

"Momo…" the child replied after a brief hesitation.

“Very well Momo. From today you will live here. Come home, I'll explain everything to you"

The lady held out her hand, which Momo took, and together they entered the girl's new home.

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

To say that the first few days in her new home were easy would have been a lie. Momo was missing her family. And she kept looking through the portal to see if her mother was going to cross the threshold and come to get her.

Her new grandmother was a sweet and warm woman. She gave Momo time to acclimatize without rushing her. She even offered her a small dog-shaped plush toy to replace her previous one. Momo appreciated the little attention and hugged the plush tightly against her at night.

However, living with Toshiro was more difficult. The little boy already had a strong character and did not seem delighted by the arrival of a new child in his home. He often spoke harshly to her, when he just wasn't ignoring her. Momo, luckily, didn't seem to take offense and came back to meet him all the more, determined to make him her new friend.

He didn't looked to be appreciated by the other children, who seemed afraid of his particular hair. Momo, on the other hand, was fascinated by their color and had repeatedly tried to touch them - usually receiving insults and yelling in return - which didn't stop her from doing it again a few days later. He reminded him of the old cat that resided in her neighbourhood on Earth. He had hissed on her each time she approached. But after a few months, he had accepted her affection. Toshiro would be the same, she could tell.

One night, about two weeks after her arrival, Momo had a terrible nightmare. The pain of her last moments on Earth came back to her. She heard her mom cry and pray, but she couldn't see her. She was terribly thirsty and hungry, but the nausea tugged at her so much that she couldn't take anything. It was the end. She felt death coming to seek her. When a new wave of pain pierced her body, Momo woke up abruptly, breathing heavy.

The pain was gone. But she still couldn't see anything. After a few seconds, a growl to her left signaled the presence of the white haired boy and reminded her where she was. Her grandmother must have been somewhere to her right. They used to stick their futons together and sleep three side by side.

She was safe, everything was fine.

Catching her breath, however, she noticed a new unusual detail. Her clothes looked wet.

She straightened up and inspected her bed with the palm of her hand. A stain of moisture permeated the futon, a small part of the blanket and the entire bottom of her kimono. She was taken aback for a few moments, then realized with dread that she had wet the bed!

It hadn't happened since she was three, how could she have done that now? She wondered ashamed.

Discreetly, she got out of the futon, holding her breath as she saw Toshiro move around in the futon right next to her. Luckily, he didn't seem to wake up.

Would Grandma be mad if she saw this? Was she going to be kicked out of the house? Who would want a messy child?

Trying to swallow back tears, Momo took the blanket and left the room discreetly.

With any luck, she would manage to hide her mistake and they would let her stay here.

First she needed clean clothes, then she would go and wash it all in the basin outside. As a final step, she would take care of the futon in the same way. And when asked tomorrow, she could pretend she spilled a glass of milk on the bed. If no one saw the stain, her excuse would be plausible.

After grabbing some new clothes, Momo went down the stairs of the house to go outside.

Luckily, the moon lit up the courtyard a little and allowed herself to orient without too much trouble. Momo found the basin and put the blanket in it. The cold water made the child shiver, who could now feel the tears running down her cheeks.

Looking back 100 years later, she realized how dumb she could have been to feel so bad for a trivial accident like this, but at this moment, the world was falling apart for her.

She changed, taking a little water to clean herself, then tossed the soiled clothes in the water as well. As she began to rub the whole thing vigorously, a voice startled her.

"What are you doing?” Toshiro surprised her from the doorway.

She turned in his direction, speechless. He kept his arms crossed against his chest, obviously waiting for an answer that took a particularly long time to arrive.

"I ..." stammered the little brunette. “I spilled a glass of milk?"

Her voice had risen in high pitch with a sobbing hiccup, making her assertion closer to questioning. Toshiro certainly wouldn't be fooled by the situation. He was young in appearance, but he was significantly older than her in age. And she realized her excuse was completely incoherent when said out loud.

But strangely, she heard neither reproach nor mockery from the boy who was looking at her seriously. On the contrary, his answer surprised her.

"I'm going to get your futon to have it cleaned too…" He said with a sigh.

And he disappeared for a good minute.

On his return, ditto, he remained silent. He helped her clean up and spread the ling. And when they returned to bed afterwards, he even gave her a bit of room in his own futon for Momo. The rest of the night ended without further accident.

The next day, she said with more confidence her story to her grandmother, who absolutely did not believe a word of it, but who accepted it nonetheless, afraid to embarrass her. When she went out to do some shopping, Momo turned to Toshiro who was finishing lunch.

"Thank you Hitsugaya-kun," Hinamori said in a small voice. "For keeping my secret."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied with his mouth full.

Then as he swallowed, he looked at the girl and let go with a smirk, "Bed Wetter Momo".

Momo froze in her seat upon hearing the new nickname.

"How did you call me?” She asked scandalized.

"You called me Shiro-chan a few days ago, remember? From today you will be "Bed wetter Momo" if you keep using that nickname ". He treated her, pretending to be interested in his bowl of rice. But the smirk he kept showing indicated the pride he felt right now in torturing her.

It was the start of a new friendship.

And he kept his word: he used that nickname for many years, and she kept on calling him Shiro-chan. It almost became a game between them.

And if today she was no longer "Bed wetter Momo", she treasured the memory of the first step Toshiro had taken towards her.