#hitsuhina week 2023

[canariie]

something blue

Rating: K+

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

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

…

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

Word Count: 5590 words

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

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

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

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

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

I hope you all enjoy it!

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you, Hinamori-kun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do I look?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hina-chan! Hirako-taicho!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you, Hinamori?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really,” the boy scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To the Abarai’s!”

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We never stopped being friends, Hinamori.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 7: Future / Fairy tales

Rating: T

Summary: The Women's Association run a special article 😏

AN: Originally posted on AO3. I probably had about 20 half-baked ideas for today but didn’t get very far into writing them. So probably just going to share some of my already posted stories.

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

There had once been a time when the Soul Reaper Women’s Association had been one of the best funded and most influential organizations in the entirety of the Seireitei. But after the end of the Quincy War, much of their power had diminished greatly. The funds that had once been designated for the group had to be reinvested towards repairs and the time the members once reserved for the various activities they sponsored, had been redirected to be more usefully spent supporting the reconstruction efforts. The meeting room hidden in the Kuchiki Manor, which had been the group’s favorite headquarters, was left for dust to slowly build up where lively meetings and laughter had once persisted.

For four years the Seireitei remained in a state of limbo waiting to see what sort of enemy would emerge. For four years they worked tirelessly on rebuilding their strength and repairing their world that had been nearly destroyed by the Quincies. But now it felt as though there was true calm and peace in the Seireitei and it was time to take care of the smaller things that they had all but forgotten about. Central 46 and the bodies that be had loosened the strict budgeting that had been in place and now allocations allowed for spending towards groups and clubs once again. The Seireitei Bulletin was the first to be green lit, releasing the news through their New Years Edition and calling for new and old article writers to submit their work for the next edition. The Women’s Association jumped at the chance and were among the first to be allotted a two page spread for the next release.

Nanao Ise spread the word among the former members quickly and arranged for all of them to meet in their old meeting room. Excitement buzzed as the time of the meeting drew closer and Momo Hinamori was looking forward to it more than she thought she would. She had never been a frequent member of the group not having much interest in some of the topics or events that were conducted, nor did she always prove of the more… questionable means by which the group got its funding. But it was always a good time to spend with her female friends whenever she could go to a meeting.

Entering the old meeting room, Hinamori found herself to be among the first to arrive. Nanao and Kiyone were already there, dusting the old tables and chairs and preparing for the meeting. Momo joined in cleaning with the others while they all waited for everyone to arrive. One by one, the old members of the group filed in and once everyone had arrived and taken seats, they all found themselves looking around the room taking stock of how the faces had changed and the faces that weren’t there. Other than Captain Isane Kotetsu who was bogged down at the Fourth Division, and Rangiku Matsumoto who was in the World of the Living on a mission, Captain Unohana, Yachiru and Nemu, were all gone. Lost to the war.

Nanao walked to the head of the table where a blank board stood. Adjusting her glasses, she cleared her throat and began the meeting. “Welcome everyone to the First Soul Reaper’s Women’s Association Meeting,” She announced. “As you are all aware, funding has been approved for all clubs and associations through the end of the second quarter. Which leaves us with three major topics on the agenda today.” She turned to the board and wrote out the first item to be taken care of. “With the Presidency and Supervising Chairwoman positions, empty, we need to establish who will take on those roles.” A sad silence filled the room, no one wanting to voice possible replacements for the members who were gone. But eventually, in hushed tones, nominations were uttered and discussed thoroughly. By the end, the decisions were made. Nanao would become the President, with Rukia Kuchiki serving as the Vice-President and the Supervising Chairwoman would remain empty out of respect (and fear) for the former Fourth Division Captain who held the position.

With the hardest part of the meeting out of the way, the group moved on to the main topic that everyone was eager to discuss. The Seireitei Bulletin. With a full two page spread, they had the opportunity to come up with something great that would bolster interest in their group and potentially earn them profit for a future event they could plan. Ideas were quick to be formed in the group ranging from interesting to impossible, and from decent to horrible. A photo set of stealthily acquired images of Yoruichi, How to Turn a Closet into a Home, Health and Wellness Tips, Fending Off Unwanted Advances… Momo had little interest in any of the topics and everyone seemed to be quite polarized about which direction to go. The board filled up with ideas quickly and hastily scribbled notes kept track of the major points for and against each one.

As arguments were starting to get out of hand, Nanao called the group to a vote when the door to the room slammed open and Rangiku Matsumoto charged in. “Hold everything!” She shouted, holding a folder over her head and slamming it down hard on the table.

“I thought you and Toshiro were in the world of the living,” Momo said looking up in surprise at the late addition. She hadn’t expected her to be back for another day at least.

Rangiku smiled, “We finished early,” She said, waving off any other questions. “Normally, I’d still be there, shopping until the Captain dragged me back; but I have found the perfect article for our little group.” Opening the folder, she revealed what had to be at least 100 pictures all of Toshiro. The women huddled around the pictures and looked at them with curiosity.

“The captain seems to have a knack for football,” Rangiku said, “And he’s grown quite a bit since the war ended.” The women quietly gave a murmur of agreement because he really had grown, now standing about a head taller than Momo. But that clearly wasn’t what Rangiku was referring to. Flipping through the pictures, the shots got closer together in time especially after one image of Toshiro making a clean slide tackle that split the left side of his shirt up to his third rib and leaving little to the imagination of what the rest of his torso looked like.

A few images later, Rangiku had somehow managed to get a rather… impressive frame by frame set of him pulling the tattered shirt off. The smooth way in which he pulled it off by tugging at the back of the collar, the way the tattered hemline slowly rose up, revealing the sculpted muscles of the man who had the distinction of being the youngest Captain in the Soul Society. Momo felt her cheeks burn red as the other women looked through the images with similar looks of appreciation.

How did she get these pictures without him freezing her fingers off? There was even a series of photos of him drinking from a water bottle that made the simple act look… seductive.

“When did you take these?” Momo asked, diverting her focus to the images after the water bottle when he returned to the game shirtless.

“Yesterday,” Rangiku answered. “And this was after we’d eliminated that hive of hollows in the area. To be honest, if he hadn’t come across that game, we’d probably have been back last night.”

“Uh huh…” Ignoring the older woman’s attempt to practically sell her captain’s ‘sex appeal’, the photos did manage to capture a side of him that she had only seen glimpses of every once in awhile in the past few decades. The child-like side of him that he’d repressed since becoming a soul reaper. He’d always been competitive, but for him to be competitive and… happy at the same time was something she’d only seen fully on display when he’d been the undefeated champion in top spinning when they were kids.

Momo smiled as she looked at one of the last few images on the table. The ball was undisturbed halfway between him and the goalkeeper. He stood relaxed with his hands in his pockets as he stared straight ahead as if the keeper wasn’t even in the way. To someone who didn’t know him well, the smirk on his face could have been described as either confident or cocky. But she knew better than to just look at his lips to read his expression. The answer was always clear in his eyes. Even if he wanted to hide something, those turquoise eyes of his could never hide the depth of his feelings. His eyes were relaxed and almost half-lidded in the picture with the color closer to a blue-green. He was having fun.

After everyone had gotten a glimpse of the photos, Nanao brought the group back to order and after a quick review of options, brought the group to a vote.

———

A month had passed since the Women’s Association had decided on their article and, as with all activities within the group, were sworn to secrecy. Momo had mixed feelings about hiding it from her best friend but reluctantly complied. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to withhold this kind of stuff from him and as much as he hated it, he at the very least tolerated the group’s need for secrets. Besides, it couldn’t possibly be any worse than the other times Rangiku published articles about him, or the previous run of trading cards the Women’s Association had sponsored. And the last thing the Soul Society needed was Toshiro (literally) freezing the magazine for eternity.

As the publication date drew near, Rangiku made herself more scarce than usual around the Tenth Division. She had made the precautionary decision to remain in the Women’s Association room in Kuchiki Manor knowing there was no way her captain could reach her behind the walls of the imposing home of the noble. She had urged Momo to join her since, in her own words, Toshiro was horrible company when he was angry. Which was true, but Momo had known him her whole life so he wasn’t nearly as ‘horrible’ with her as he was with everyone else. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d be one of his targets. She hadn’t even voted for that article and had tried to convince the group that it was a bad idea. Unfortunately, the potential sale of prints and posters won out.

The day the monthly bulletin went out had started out fairly normal but as the day went on and people sat down to read it and talk about it, the entire place was abuzz with talk about the article submitted by the Women’s Association. Knowing her best friend, he probably hadn’t even read it yet, too absorbed with extra work left behind by his missing lieutenant. Abandoning her own work for the day, she made her way to the Tenth, taking the long way to get an idea of how bad the whole situation was getting. Momo spied several groups huddled over issues of the magazine, pointing, giggling, and sighing while whispering among themselves. This was bad.

Fortunately, it seemed his own division had some idea about how angry their captain would be once he got wind of the whole thing. She saw a few issues floating around the Tenth’s offices but the owners were quite secretive as they glanced at the infamous article when they thought no one was looking. Momo approached the Captain’s office and knocked, announcing herself before entering. As expected, Toshiro was at his desk sifting through several piles of paperwork, muttering to himself. “Have you seen the fourth seat? I’m missing their incident report,” He asked, not even sparing her a glance as he leafed through a report.

“I don’t even think I know who your fourth seat is,” Momo said, walking up to the desk and resting the palms of her hands on the wooden surface.

It was only then, he seemed to register he wasn’t talking to one of his men. He looked up, his eyes reflected his surprise but only for a moment before he hardened his eyes again. “Oh, it’s you.”

“You could sound a little more happy to see me, Shiro.”

“It’s Captain Hitsugaya,” He corrected, a little harsher than usual. Clearly it wasn’t a good day for him. And it would only get worse once he saw the article. “And I am glad to see you. I’m just… busy,” He said, tossing the pile of papers onto his desk. “I can’t find Matsumoto anywhere, and for some reason people around here are either avoiding me, or in a rush to leave as quickly as possible.” He frowned and folded his arms over his chest, thinking. “Maybe I was too rough on them yesterday with training…” A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he immediately sat tall in his chair. “Enter.”

A young girl who looked to be fresh from the academy stood in the doorway, her cheeks flushed red, and holding a folder close to her chest. Toshiro cocked his eyebrow up, and the girl dropped her head down, hiding a girlish smile. “S-sorry, sir.”

“Did you need something, Shuyama?

The girl giggled, and blushed even more. Toshiro exchanged a look with Momo as though she might have some female insight into the girl’s behavior. And oh did she. The girl cleared her throat, “S-sorry. I-I have… here,” She held out the folder but she was still standing in the doorway. Momo could see the girl sweating from across the room as she slowly walked forward, her hand still awkwardly extended as she approached her captain’s desk.

Toshiro accepted the folder from her and his gaze softened a little. “You alright, Shuyama?”

“Uh, y-yes, sir! I’m perfectly fine.”

He didn’t seem to believe her but shrugged, and sent her on her way with orders to find the fourth seat and the missing report. Momo shook her head as the girl fled and he gestured at the door with his hands, “See what I mean?” He asked. “You wouldn’t happen to know what’s going on, would you?”

She shrugged, “What makes you think I know?” She asked.

“Because it’s mostly the women acting weird. The men just look at me funny.” He opened the folder and began reading the first few lines of the report.

Momo pursed her lips as she leaned her hip against his desk. “I’m sure it’s just… something in the air today. It’ll pass.”

He looked up from the report and focused his intense gaze on her. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Bedwetter,” He said. “What is it?”

“I’m not lying—“

“You’re not telling the truth either.” Momo pouted, realizing her mistake. Toshiro always knew when she was hiding something. His fingers tapped on his desk as he waited, “Well?”

With a sigh, she walked out of his office and into another office nearby that was shared by four officers.

All four of them were working diligently, only looking up when she entered and kept their eyes on her as she walked over to the only woman working in the office. Momo ignored her as she looked under the report she was currently working on and pulled out today’s edition of the bulletin. Without saying a single word to anyone, she left and returned to Toshiro who had been waiting patiently for her to come back. His brow was arched as she held the magazine and handed it over to him.

He looked at her questioningly, “You’ll know when you see it,” She said.

His brow knit tightly as he flipped through it, coming to a stop near the centerfold of the magazine. The color in his face paled and she knew he had found it. Taking a small step back, she braced herself for what was to come.

“What. The. Hell!?” The windows in the office shattered and the temperature dropped as he slammed the magazine onto his desk, sending the stacks of paperwork flying into the air. “‘These shots of the Winter Lion will keep you warm through the winter’?

“‘Despite being a late bloomer’—” He growled as he read the few lines of text that accompanied the pictures, his fists clenching the magazine, ripping the ends of the pages. “Who wrote this shi—“ The room got colder and ice started to climb up the walls. Momo gently increased her own reiatsu to counter the cold as realization set in for him. “Matsumoto.” He said her name with such venom. “I thought I sensed her lurking around Kuchiki’s manor. Now it makes sense why,” He muttered. Looking up, he met her gaze, then glanced back down at the magazine, focusing on the prominent banner printed just above the title. “You…you knew about this?”

Momo sighed, “Unfortunately.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I couldn’t! You know how secretive the Women’s Association is!”

Toshiro pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Right, of course,” He muttered, shaking his head. “They just had to pick me again, didn’t they,” He muttered.

His reiatsu dissipated slightly, allowing Momo to come stand closer to him again. Walking up to his desk, she stood in front of it with her hands folded, “Rangiku was very persuasive. Er, rather… the pictures were persuasive.”

His cheeks were a little red and he looked away, torn between anger and embarassment. “Is… is that really how people see me?”

“Hm?”

“This,” He gestured at the magazine again. “The trading cards, pictures of me sleeping, that calendar from a few years back;” He listed off several of the Women’s Association’s past ventures that had featured him as the main subject matter, his brow knit tightly as he cleared his throat. “What… what exactly is it about me that makes me a target for… this?”

Momo shrugged, “Well, you’re a prominent figure in the Sereitei—“

“—That’s not what I mean,” He said, his jaw was tight as he grit his teeth forcing the clarifying question out. “How… how physically attractive am I?”

Her hand on his desk faltered as she nearly slammed her face into the wood surface. “Eh? What?” She could feel her cheeks burning as she replayed his question over in her head again, making sure she had heard him right to begin with.

Toshiro sighed and held a hand up, making a calming gesture, “I’m not asking what you think. I need an objective opinion. And you’re the only girl I can have this conversation with.”

“Oh…” Momo relaxed a bit, taking a moment to think about the question and how to answer it. As his friend, she didn’t like him for the same reason everyone else did. Her personal opinion was very biased and based more on the traits no one else could see. But, as a woman, she wasn’t blind to the superficial layer of physical appeal he definitely had. The only problem was he was completely oblivious to all of it.

“Well… See…” Her lips pursed as she looked down at the magazine, pointing at the picture of him drinking from the water bottle. The light perfectly highlighted the lines between his abs, and the sheen of sweat on his chest practically made him shine with an almost god-like glow.

“What?” His brow slanted, and he tiled his head sideways, still not seeing what she meant.

Momo sighed, wondering how he could be a genius and an idiot at the same time. “The answer to your question is… yes.”

“Huh?”

Rolling her eyes, she continued. “Women find you attractive,” She said. “More so now that you don’t really look like a cute little boy anymore.”

His eye twitched a bit in annoyance, still a bit stingy about having been so short for so long. “…That doesn’t tell me why, though.”

“Well…” Her lips pursed as she thought about how to explain it. “To start, you have really nice hair.”

“I always thought it creeped people out.”

She shrugged, “Well, maybe in the Rukon Districts, yes. But, you’ve been here a long time, and the color makes sense given your reiatsu and zanpakuto. So people are able to look beyond the color and… appreciate its other characteristics.” His hair had always been quite thick, but it became more noticeable after he stopped spiking it and let it fall more naturally around his face. It looked nice, giving him this almost rugged appearance that unintentionally added another notch to his physical appeal.

He gave her a blank expression, showing he really had no idea what the big deal was about hair. Sighing, she moved on. “Um… Your eyes are nice too.” Much like his hair, the color was unusual and the kids in the Rukon Districts found them unnerving. Momo never understood why. His eyes were probably his most beautiful feature. When the light hit them just right, they could look like deep pools of water, or dusty emeralds. And to be the focus of those eyes, it could be the most terrifying moment, or the most wonderful thing ever.

She cleared her throat, noticing he was waiting for her to continue. “And then there’s… that,” She pointed at one of the many shirtless photos of him. “It’s, er… nice… very nice.”

He blushed again and shook his head. “Madness,” He muttered. Grabbing the magazine, he tore it in half, tossing it in the trash before turning to face the broken window. A light breeze blew through, ruffling his hair and robes.

Momo closed the distance between them, coming to stand next to him. His arms were folded in his sleeves as he glared outside. There were a few groups on the streets below and some were looking through the magazine as they walked. Sighing, Momo wrapped her arm around his back, pressing herself into his side. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I did argue against publishing it. And I really did want to tell you about it, but…”

“I know.” He craned his head back and closed his eyes in an attempt to try and relax.

“Thank you, Momo.”

“Hm? For what?” She pulled back enough to look up at him.

Toshiro met her eye and shrugged, “For being honest,” He said. “Though I can’t say I completely understand… any of it. Girls are crazy.”

She pouted, poking him hard in the ribs, eliciting a loud “ouch!” From him as he shifted away from her.

“The Hell was that for?” He asked, guarding his ribs from her fingers still trying to jab at him.

“For calling me crazy.”

He scoffed, “I didn’t call you crazy.”

She crossed her arms, her eyebrow arching accusingly, “You just said girls are crazy.”

“You don’t count,” He said. Momo felt a small pang at the simple statement, though she wasn’t sure why. He sighed, adding, “You’re… different.” He returned his focus to the streets below the window, his body tense and indicating that he wasn’t going to elaborate further.

She smiled and turned to look outside with him, somewhat understanding what he was trying to say. She knew that words were not something he was particularly good with. From the corner of her eye, she caught the small scowl on his lips as he spied the two guards standing out front of the gates being sucked into a conversation as they giggled girlishly, pointing at a picture or two in the magazine.

Momo could only imagine the punishments he was thinking of putting the guards through for what he was sure to document as ‘neglecting duties’ in his reports. It made her wonder what he’d do once Rangiku surfaced again… it inspired a little idea. It was perhaps a little risky, given the secrecy of the Women’s Association, but one that, if played out right, would greatly improve her friend’s mood at the small expense of his lieutenant and maybe a bit of property damage. Besides, it wasn’t like any of it could lead back to her. Looking over at Toshiro, she smiled, confident that once she told him, he would never share where the secret entrance to Kuchiki Manor was located.

[bleachbleachbleach]

REVERSE THE BONE - PART 1

Timeline: less than 49 days after the Thousand-Year Blood War Characters: Hinamori (POV), Hitsugaya; 89 of the Gotei’s finest Word Count: 11, 800 (Part 1 of 2) // ~31k total

Summary:

A certain degree of lunacy is expected of all officers in the Gotei 13, and rumor has it Captain Hitsugaya has finally grown into his. At least, that’s the only explanation for why he’s agreed to take the East Rukongai Trash Job. ...Officially it’s called the East Rukongai Train Job. But Hinamori’s not buying it, and she is going to get to the bottom of this. Two tickets to ride on the East Rukongai Soul Train, packed to the brim with the Seireitei’s old and broken things—and a secret (or two) that is not listed on the manifest. AKA what passes for Rukongai pleasure tourism. AKA how to survive the war after the war. AKA the things you fall in love with won't be what you think.

[Read on AO3]

Written for @hitsuhina-week July 2023 | DAY 5: "I could go anywhere with you"!

NB: Please know that two versions ago, this fic was titled 'Hinamori had never seen such a mess.' While the statement is still true, Thomas the Tank Engine did not vibematch the story Hinamori ended up telling, so I had to change it. I am devastated by this.

PLEASE enjoy the train ticket. After the Atrocieties of an earlier version of this fic I was like, "Well, I can't not write it. I made tickets!" and that is essentially why I kept trying to write this fic. I love the tickets.

[pinkhairedlily]

the warmest place in the world

SUMMARY:

I have said I love you. You have said I love you too. The grand climax is over. The tumultuous journey is past and we have arrived in calm waters. It's mundane, ordinary, and silent. But between us, each day, in silent, smallest declarations, we still say, I love you. I love you. I love you.

(in which Hitsugaya and Hinamori are married)

gift for @ryomaunnie 🎁🎄 | @hitsuhina-week

a/n: sorry this got delayed so much!!! i hope i gave justice to your prompt of hh married/domestic life 🥺 belated happy holidays to the community. may you thrive and heal and live gently this 2023 🤍

Hinamori Momo was a winter bride.

One would think it was an inadequate choice; she was always bright and sunny, the very manifestation of a summer’s day.

But warmth has always been indispensable to the cold.

Like her to him. The love of his life. The fire to his ice. His red thread of fate.

She said I do to him under the curtain of snow, and Hitsugaya kissed his wife’s red button nose.

He kisses it all the same on slow mornings when the sun creeps on the Seiretei horizon, limbs all splayed out on the cotton covers, chasing shadows in the crook of each other’s embrace.

He touches it on nights he captures her lips and lets himself melt all over. Momo is my wife, he tells himself as she settles against his chest. Momo is my wife, he repeats again when he wakes up with her hair on his cheeks. Momo is my wife, like a prayer that came true.

— — —

“Which side of the bed do you want, Shiro?” Momo asks as she surveys the bare room. On one side, the window shares the view of the overgrowth. Rose vines and yellow bells fight for space on sparse earth while poison ivy rests comfortably on the concrete walls of the house. It will take some time to tame their backdoor wilderness, but Hitsugaya can see that it would be a beautiful garden in the care of her hands.

“I’ll take the one facing the wall Momo.”

A smile grows from his statement. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

"No take backs."

He smirks. "I don't do that."

"You'll roll me over!"

He holds up a pinky. She always made him do this when they were younger. "Promise. Stop being so insufferable. You're so cute when you're adamant."

"Ugh, so sappy all of a sudden." She giggles — that's all he wants to hear really — and laughter fills the crevices of the old house.

Under the futon that night, surrounded with boxes both closed and halfway open, Momo stares out the curtainless window to the unobstructed view of the full moon. She falls asleep after the fifth shooting star.

Meanwhile, Hitsugaya has the perfect perspective of her face; how she surrenders to the drowse, how her breathing evens out, and how she smiles in her dreams. Not all nights are like this.

Sometimes, the dreams are nightmares.

And he refuses to touch her in the aftermath.

He can vividly feel his hand — Hyourinmaru — go through her chest. His quickening pulse matches the spewing blood from her body. When it's emptied, there's a hollow instead of where her heart should be.

He goes frigid, his own pulse also frozen in shock, despair, some kind of indescribable grief. Then he jolts out of that plane when he feels her, the present her, draw his arm around her body. Calm and steady, her . In between the void and wakefulness, she forgives him.

Figures lost in crowd, that's what they look like on market days. She reaches out to him in the sea of bodies, intertwining his fingers with hers. It's a mindless gesture for Momo, but Hitsugaya feels tethered.

His hand in her. His soul is anchored.

———

"Tadaima."

10:07. Hitsugaya left Karakura around that time. Ichigo is boisterous, the usual, but even more so with the second addition to their family.

They broke the news over Orihime's okonamiyaki. A hefty dash of Ichigo's tears made it into the cooking. She made sure to pack portions for Hinamori.

Who happens to be burning her own okonamiyaki in the kitchen.

"Ah. I messed it up." She's near tears. "Did you have dinner yet, Shiro?"

He places the package on the counter and wounds his arm around her waist. She curls further into herself, sobs on the verge of escaping every limb, but he holds her close and whispers into her ear. "Yeah you burned it but I think it's still edible."

Still entangled with her, he samples a small part from the smoking brown concoction on the stove. Placid reaction gives way to strong grimace. "See, edible."

Momo groans. "I hate you Shiro."

"I love you Momo." His laughter resounds against her untangled hair. Smooth, flowing strands shaking as sobs transform into fits of amusement.

She faces him after a while. "Did you bring earth food?"

He nods. "It's not your favorite pizza, but Orihime's cooking is better than most."

"What did she cook?"

"Okonomiyaki." Her face falls flat from the sudden reminder of her failure. It disappears from his view when he pulls her in for a tight embrace.

Like earlier, his voice travels through her strands, wind to the leaves, water to sand, "Listen. You may not perfect every dish. You may mess up some things. You may not know how to repair the heater. Or keep planks straight when you hammer them in. Dogs may not like you. But you brew the best tea and coffee. You knit the warmest scarves. You sow the most beautiful flowers. The cats love to rub against you. You are my wife and I love you for all that you are."

"You talk so much," she groans against his shoulder. "I'm just hungry."

They laugh again, just as easily.

———

"Good... morning, taichou."

Normally, it would be Matsumoto slumped against Hitsugaya's shoulders, but on rare occasions that he would go drinking with Shinji (forced really) and his circle, Hitsugaya would always, always, return home intoxicated beyond his limits.

And her captain would always, always, bring this drunken stupor to her doorstep.

Even when they were still branding themselves as childhood best friends ("Of course, we would look out for each other.") When they were sidestepping the line that separates friendly concern to affection. A series of drunken declarations when he thought she was asleep, forgotten in the wake of the mornings as he casually slipped, unaffected, nonchalant, almost stoic from her quarters. ("Do you know, Momo, that I like you? I like you. I like you very, very, very much. I don't know what to do with these feelings. Momo, how do I tell you?") When they thought it was their best, well-kept secret in Soul Society. ("Way to announce you're mine, Shiro, banging on my door like that at 2 AM, calling me your darling?!") It was the best, well-shared secret.

"Hirako, you dumbassss. Why did you bring me to Momo? I'm a mess, look at me," Hitsugaya drawls over his words.

"Don't puke on her when you kiss, all right." Shinji winks at his lieutenant and bids adieu effectively in the dead silence of the night.

"I'm not gonna kisssss yew." Hitsugaya raises his palm and slaps it across his chest. "I am a good sssenpai. And a taichou. And I will not take advantage of yew."

"Shut up and go inside already."

He spots the gold band when she pulls his arm. He's sniffling by the time he makes it to their kitchen.

"Why did I wait so long?"

"Wait to come home?" Hinamori patiently goes through the same motions he does when she's drunk. Boil water. Brew some tea. Sober up.

"Wait to tell you I love you." His sniffles are louder, close to sobbing. "I've always wanted you to be my wife. Gods, I'm so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"I won't disagree with you on this." This happens every time, and each repeat just makes her fonder of him.

And yes, more annoyed.

But he's endearing when he's moping so he gets a pass.

He clutches her hand tightly. "Is he a good man? Does he love you more than I do? Are you happy?"

Hinamori leans in closer to his space. From this distance, she can smell the alcohol mingling with fresh pine and snow she associates him with. Her palms cup his drooping, tear-stricken face.

"He is a good man that loves me so much and makes me happy every day. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Then she kisses him as he does on nights she doubts his love. A seal of sorts, a magic touch that dispels the stormy clouds, a kiss.

"Momo, you're a married woman."

"And you're my husband, Hitsugaya-taichou."

———

The snipping of scissors molds with the hummingbirds perched on the blossoming dogwood.

Silver specks litter the hardwood floor. Momo's barefoot protrudes through the strands, his shoulders as her balance.

Her tongue peeks out in concentration as she trims the lengthened threads. It's easy to fall asleep on this cool, spring day while her fingers conduct an orchestra with his hair.

"Do you want an undercut?"

"Please don't make me look like Ichigo or Renji."

"Kira and Yumichika said it's fashionable."

"So why don't they say that to Byakuya?"

"Byakuya has a distinct style."

"And I don't? I'm offended."

"I think you look good in any hair."

"That's what wives say."

She brandishes a mirror in front of him. A relieved sigh leaves him when he sees no noticeable changes. "Great job, Ms. Hinamori. I'll give you a tip."

She kneels in front of him and rests her head on his lap. Her hair falls like waves on the side of his leg. Untangled in her braid, it's a shiny mane. They slip when he twirls his finger around them. "Cut my hair too, Shiro."

"Rukia-style? Or Yumichika?"

"Just don't shave me."

Cut hairs all gone and away and napes exposed to the blossom breeze, they spend the fading afternoon in the awning of the garden. Momo is asleep in his arms, her face dotted with pink petals, and the leaves playing across her features.

Hitsugaya mindlessly traces circles on her arm, navigating to her stomach where a shawl is splayed over. She knitted this some shinigami years ago and the fabric seems to call for his touch. To trace the same shape over and over until he feels the indentation. The slight slope he might miss in passing.

Adrift petals lay their rest right where his hand stopped orbiting.

"Momo?"

She only smiles and places her hand over his, flowers blooming in between the spaces of their fingertips.

"Shiro?"

His throat is heavy. "I'm gonna be a good father." He kisses the crown of her head, and they snuggle closer until twilight takes over the sky.

———

Fireflies are luminescent under the bridge. The river murmurs in the dark, continuing their voyage to the sea with the green attraction fading in their reflection, a memory drowned.

Momo wanted to rest. Rukia warned her about sore feet and wonky legs in the last few months of the pregnancy.

Hitsugaya would have wanted to carry her back home, if she let him. He's sulking from her stubbornness.

"It's peaceful tonight." Momo breathes in the changing summer air. Autumn has started to dispel its first notes.

"It's peaceful," Hitsugaya echoes. He embraces her from behind, his hands crossed like a prayer over her stomach. "I'm glad it's peaceful."

"But what if there's war again?"

It's not as if Hitsugaya hadn't thought of this already. It haunted his nights. It's a possibility on the back of his head when he attends council meetings, signs paperworks, reads reports. Always on the lookout for the first triggers.

It's a hard thing to keep — peace.

"Then there's another reason to fight for." But sometimes, it comes by easy. "For now, this is peace to me."

The fireflies steer towards their direction. Alight and luminous, their reflections are carried by the currents, a memory in voyage.

———

"Cold!!!!" Hanami bolts through the door. A child around five with brown hair covered in snow and teal irises that are so honest and bare and earnest. There's unbridled happiness in her eyes.

"Can you at least tone down that blush whenever you come home from Byakuya's estate?" Hitsugaya sighs.

"That's because of cold, Shiro," Momo reasons out from the kitchen.

"He made me tea, Papa!"

"As he does to all his guests?"

"No! It's the special tea!" She sticks out her tongue at her father while she quickly shrugs off her outerwear. Then her little feet urgently pad off to settle beside him in the kotetsu. "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry Uncle Byakuya!"

"He's old, Hana-chan."

"No, he's not! He's still handsome!"

"You have poor taste in men, my silly girl."

Momo sweeps into the room with a tray of tea. "That's too bad. You don't have room for Mama's special tea?"

"I have, Mama. The snow outside evaporated the tea earlier." She pats the little space beside her. "Sit Mama! It's cold!"

Lulled in drowse by tea, the family lies side by side on the floor, legs all tangled up under the kotatsu, as the snowstorm builds to a precipice outside.

"Did you enjoy painting with Byakuya?" Hitsugaya asks the growing babe on his shoulder.

Hanami nods. "He was worried I'd get snowed in."

Momo blows raspberries on Hanami's hair. "Was it cold, Hana-chan?"

"Very! He made me wear another coat. It was difficult to walk." She mimics shaking terribly but only ends up laughing. It's contagious, feeling the giggles travel the course of her skin and limbs, and unto her parents.

"Papa never gets cold, right Mama?" Hanami places her hand over their entangled fingers on her stomach.

"No, he never does."

"Are you cold right now, Hana-chan? Do you want me to move away?" Hitsugaya almost shifts out of their hold, but his daughter plants him to his side.

"Silly Papa! You're always so warm." Her button nose red from the cold, and her cheeks flushed pink, Hanami pulls her parents closer to her. "This is the warmest place in the world."

[hitsuhina-week]

Thank you!!

Thank you to everyone who contributed to Hitsuhina Week 2023! If you haven't already, please check out the entries for this year:

Day 1: Academy Days / Fireworks

To Shine Brightly by @rays-of-fire-and-ice Academy Days by @roguedarthskywalker Fireworks by @roguedarthskywalker illumination by @alexiethymia

Day 2: Sunset / Homecoming

Sunset/ Homecoming by @roguedarthskywalker

Day 3: Shinigami / AU

AU by @roguedarthskywalker

Day 4: Back to back / I'm sorry

I'm Sorry by @roguedarthskywalker The Downpour by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Day 5: I could go anywhere with you / Night

Reverse the Bone Part I & II by @bleachbleachbleach Night by @roguedarthskywalker

Day 6: Something beautiful / Waves

Something Beautiful by @roguedarthskywalker On the Shoreline by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Day 7: Future / Fairy tales

Future by @roguedarthskywalker something blue by @canariie

A special shout out to @roguedarthskywalker for creating something for every day of the event, it's quite the achievement!

If I missed any submissions, please let me know ASAP so I can include them here. Otherwise, keep an eye out towards the end of the year, I'm hoping to host a gift exchange in November/December. If you have any ideas for future events, don't be shy and sent them in!

Thanks again everyone! :D

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

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 bewilderment, 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.

After a beat, he follows Akon out. Neither say anything as they walk down the corridors.

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 when they lack any answers.

_________________________________

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."

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 6: Something Beautiful/ Waves

Rating: K

Summary: Rangiku spies on Toshiro and Momo and comes to a realization

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She really should be working. For the past few weeks her Captain had been pestering her more than usual about her tendency to hide the stacks of paperwork around the office or slip them into his own workload when he wasn’t looking. Normally, she could get away with it, receiving little more than a harsh scolding, or the rare case of mild frostbite. It was how things had always been between them. Rangiku would slack on her responsibilities, and her Captain would do his utmost to get her to take her job more seriously. It never worked. After all, why should she waste her days away doing paperwork when she knows her oh so diligent Captain will do it anyway? But recently that hasn’t been the case. Rangiku would show up to the office (late as usual) to find the place empty.

It wasn’t like him. For as long as he’d been an officer, he’d always been on time, if not early to the office. He’d stay late to make sure all the paperwork was in order, and rarely took any time off unless it was to visit his Granny. At first, she thought maybe he was just running late but as the hour ticked by, she started to worry. Maybe the old lady had fallen ill and her Captain had gone to take care of her. But, he would have told someone, wouldn’t he? Rangiku had sat at the desk for well over an hour, pen tapping against the wooden surface, and the pile of reports, and forms looming in the left corner, growing steadily every fifteen minutes or so. She hated paperwork. And the lure of mystery surrounding her missing Captain was much too distracting for her to be productive. Inevitably, curiosity had quickly gotten the better of her. It hadn’t taken long for her to find him. And as the weeks passed, and his absences became more frequent, she began to put the pieces together.

Rangiku settled at the top of the hill over looking the small valley in the outskirts of Junrinan, watching the two soul reapers training below. Her Captain, Toshiro Hitsugaya stood with his Hyorinmaru in its shikai form, the ground around him covered in a thick layer of ice and snow. Across from him stood Momo Hinamori, her blade also in shikai and the grass burnt black with small embers still glowing in the ashes. For a moment, the two stared one another down, their reiatsu flaring before they launched into the next wave of attacks.

Rangiku watched as her Captain’s ice dragon roared from the tip of the blade at the same time Momo sent a wave of fire towards him. The dragon met the flames, melting into a thick mist, negating both attacks. Using the lowered visibility, she watched as the Captain attacked from above, his blade coming down to meet hers.

This was not the scene she had anticipated when she came to the valley in search of her Captain. She expected something similar to the other times she’d found the two of them together over last few weeks. She thought they might be relaxing under one of the trees, reminiscing on their shared childhood in this district, or sharing a lunch. But to see them training with no signs of either of them holding back even a little… it caught her off guard. She’d never once seem the two of them training together. And after the whole thing with Aizen, she never thought either of them would be keen to raise their blades against one another.

But, here they were. Fire clashing with ice in a brutal yet… beautiful display of opposing forces.

Momo was thrown off balance when Hitsugaya struck again, but she recovered quickly, countering with a low level hado spell that forced the Captain to dodge back, thus giving her a small moment of advantage that she took the moment it became apparent.

Hitsugaya, catching onto her tactics, ducked below her blade, her forward momentum closing the distance too much for her to block the reiatsu infused punch he aimed at her ribs. Momo was sent flying backwards several yards and likely would have kept going for a bit if she hadn’t stabbed her zanpakuto into the ground to regain her footing.

“You need to be quicker on your reads,” Hitsugaya called from where he stood. “You were about half a second too late to notice.”

Rangiku caught the smiles the two of them shared for the split second pause in their spar. He might hate it whenever it is brought up, but the two of them together really is the cutest thing. Even though both are quite adamant that they are ‘just friends’ it is clear to her that the affection they share is more than that of long time friends, and definitely not familial. She bit her cheek to hold in her mirth, reflecting on how their affection for one another has certainly become more obvious in the past few months since Aizen had been defeated.

The shift had started out small, and barely noticeable except in retrospect. But it had been there. Quick intermittent visits to each other to drop off reports, a gentle touch to the hand or arm, a smile; it was a little bit after Rangiku started to notice this that her Captain started these little excursions.

Momo rose to her feet and disappeared in a flash only to appear in front of Hitsugaya. They exchanged blows with their swords, well placed attacks and defensive blocks as they tried to take control with zanjutsu alone. It was an unusual strategy for Momo to attempt, especially when she knew that it worked in favor of her opponent. Rangiku saw the opening only after her Captain had begun his attack.

“Bakudo Number Four: Hainawa!” Momo placed her fingers close to his sword, the golden glow of the spell encasing the tips of her fingers and wrapping around the blade, winding down towards the hilt and then encasing his wrists. She jumped back, putting distance between them as she made her next move. “Hado Number Fifty-Eight: Tenran!” Her hands extended in front of her as the spiraling winds were launched at Hitsugaya as she called for another spell and the winds filled with blue lightning at the same time that she released Hainawa.

Rangiku leaned forward from where she sat, her jaw open as she watched her Captain crash into the high branches of a tree before falling through the canopy of limbs and landing on his knees on the ground. The instinct to reveal her presence and go to her Captain’s aid was hard to fight, but she felt herself relax when Momo immediately appeared at his side.

“Oh, Shiro! Are you okay?” Momo gripped him by the shoulders and helped him sit back against the tree trunk. His robes were slightly singed and his hair a wind blown mess with leaves stuck in the white locks. Kneeling beside him, she began picking the leaves and twigs from his hair, apologizing profusely.

“Geez, where did you get that idea from?” Hitsugaya asked, rubbing the side of his head. “What was that? Tenran and… Byakurai?”

She nodded, “Yeah… I thought if I infused Byakurai into Tenran it might make it harder for you to escape the blast. I didn’t expect it to… electrocute you.” Momo brushed her fingers through his hair in a poor attempt to smooth out his hair that was sticking up at odd angles. Surprisingly, he let her not even complaining about the childish nickname he supposedly hated so much.

“That’s obvious,” He said, “Just… promise me the next time you get an idea like that; you’ll warn me that you’ve never tried it before? My division will fall apart if you send me to the Fourth.”

Momo smiled, “Deal. And... thank you again. For training with me.”

He returned her smile, “It’s no bother. You know I’ve always wanted to.”

Rangiku watched the two of them a little bit longer, marveling at how the pieces were falling into place exactly where she thought they would. She’d been hesitant to call it too soon, afraid that if she put words to it, would startle the two of them like deer in headlights and undo whatever progress had been made. But looking at them now, it doesn’t look like that’ll happen. Surprisingly, she did feel a little bit guilty that she’d been spying on their little dates for a few weeks now. But only a little. Rangiku smiled as she dusted off her pants and decided to leave to give them a bit of privacy. Besides, this kind of breaking news was clearly front page material and she was the only one who could write the eye catching article for the Sereitei Bulletin.

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 5: I Could Go Anywhere With You/ Night

Rating: T

Summary: Momo returns from a mission. Toshiro takes care of her.

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ight had fallen hours ago by the time she returned through the senkaimon. It had been a longer trip than she’d originally been told but tired as she was, Momo found the energy to flash step the rest of the way home. A hiss, and the scraping of wood had her wincing as she froze for a moment. Her senses were still highly sensitive from battle as she listened for any sign of disrupting the sleep of the occupants of the house. The stillness of the night, and the quiet brought a calm to her as she rubbed at her toe that she’d stubbed on the accent table before silently returning it to it’s proper place and a bit farther back so it can’t hurt any more toes. On silent feet, she closed the door and locked it and began the slow walk further into the house.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in as she felt her gate lose its fluidity and limped slightly. Her injuries weren’t as bad as they could have been. The ill-made arrancar she’d encountered hadn’t been nearly as strong as the ones she’d faced decades ago when Aizen had raised an army of them. But she’d been caught off guard. A swarm of hollows had been terrorizing the souls of Kyoto for weeks and the intelligence she’d arrived with had made no mention of an arrancar among the hollow’s numbers. The result had been the numerous yet, non-life threatening injuries that were littered across her body.

Momo made her way to the bedroom near the back of the house and eased the door open to peek inside. A nightlight cast the room in a dim glow as she scanned the room. Toys were scattered in a corner of the room next to a doll house. The top drawer of the dresser against the right hand wall was opened with the sleeve of a shirt hanging out. Above the dresser on the wall, were custom made stickers that were in the shape of dragons. And against the back wall was a small bed where she could make out the mess of white hair spread across the pillow, along with the steady rise and fall of a little girl’s breathing.

Momo smiled, somehow still in awe of the perfection that was her daughter. Creeping closer to the bed, she slowly sat down on the edge, careful not to wake the child as she smoothed out her white hair, and tucked the sheets under her chin. She watched the girl snuggle deeper into her pillows with a content sigh escaping her lips before she rolled over onto her stomach, her arms wrapping tightly around that white dragon plush she just adored. Momo pressed a loving kiss to the girl’s forehead, a silent prayer spoken in the back of her mind, grateful that she had made it home. Easing herself up and off the bed, she left the room and towards the bathroom. While she easily could have fallen asleep beside her daughter, she knew her injuries needed to be tended to before she could even think about sleep.

She rummaged through the cabinets blindly in the dark, moving towels, and bottles around, “Where is it?” She muttered, looking for the supply of medical bandages and ointments. Momo hissed as she reached too high and felt the warm drip of blood begin to run down her side as she reopened a cut.

“Looking for something?”

Momo jumped, and rounded on the new voice. It took her a moment to recognize the face of her husband as he leaned against the doorframe. Toshiro was dressed only in a pair of dark colored sleep pants, and his white hair a rumpled mess from sleeping, he looked half asleep as he stood in front of her and she felt guilty for having woken him up. “Sorry,” She said as watched him look her up and down, taking in her current state.

Wordlessly, he walked farther into he bathroom and eased past her and opened the cabinet just above the large bathtub and pulled out two rolls of bandages, sterile sutures and antiseptic. He made a gesture for her to sit down. “I-I can—“ His eyes narrowed, silently putting an end to any argument that she can patch herself up alone. She complied with his request and sat on a stool while he familiarly began to slowly take off her kosode.

His hands were cold as he ran his fingers along the series of new bruises that littered her ribs, and his eyes perused the collection of red cuts and abrasions that had already started to scab over. He started with the cut in her side that she’d reopened, gently dabbing the blood away. Fortunately, it wasn’t too deep but it wasn’t so bad that her healing kido would make a profound difference. Momo hissed as he disinfected the wound and she felt his eyes look up towards her face to gage her level of discomfort. “I’m fine,” She whispered to reassure him, watching as he rubbed the numbing ointment onto the skin before he prepared the sutures, threading the sterile thread through the curved needle. Her jaw clenched as he looked up at her again for permission to continue. “Just do it,” She said through clenched teeth, bracing herself for the pain.

With a nod, he hooked the first seam of the cut and began the long process of closing the wound. Her eyes remained closed as he worked as quickly and neatly as he could. she kept her eyes shut through the whole thing, trying to keep herself relaxed as she felt the needle pierce her already pained flesh over and over again. “Why didn’t you let the Fourth treat you?” He asked lowly, his eyes never leaving his work.

The Fourth Division always had medical teams on standby when anyone returns from a mission just in case anyone needs immediate attention. “I wanted to come home,” She said. In the past, she might have taken them up on their assistance. Their healing kido was more refined than hers and they could have her injuries healed in a matter of hours with minimal (if any) scarring. But that would mean spending time in the Fourth Division medical wing and she hasn’t been comfortable staying there since before the Winter War. She’d gladly take a few more scars to avoid the place.

After a few minutes, she heard the snip of the scissors cut the sutures and felt his cool hands apply a soothing ointment to lessen the pain. He then moved on to the three slash marks that cut into her arm stretching from the top of her shoulder down to her elbow. The cuts had originally been deeper and she could still remember the feeling of her blood dripping down her arm, sickening the hilt of her blade. In a small moment of respite, she’d managed to use a little bit of kido, managing to heal the wounds just enough that the bleeding wasn’t so bad.

Toshiro did the same for these injuries as he had for the last and ensured the wound was clean before he stitched her up. It was quiet between them as he took care of her but she could feel the unspoken words that lingered between them. “I’m sorry,” She said again, this time referring to the state she was currently in. “I know you can’t stand to see me hurt.—“

“—You don’t need to apologize to me,” He said quietly, his eyes looking up to meet hers as he paused for a moment. “Just… tell me you gave them what they deserved.”

She smiled and nodded, “Of course I did.”

Toshiro nodded himself, “Good… that’s good,” He said, going back to focusing on his work. Her smile broadened as she looked down at him, marveling at how somethings would never change with him. He had always been her champion and if she hadn’t finished off the arrancar herself, she knew that he would stop at almost nothing to ensure it was truly dead himself.

Her eyes squeezed shut in pain as he began the next set of sutures. “How was Kokone?” She asked, looking for a distraction from the discomfort.

“Fine,” He said gruffly, though the pleased curl of his lips said there was more. “She lectured Matsumoto about her paperwork habits,” He said, pausing his sutures as he chuckled lightly. “She said that if I didn’t have to pick up the slack she left, then I’d be able to play with her more.”

Momo laughed, she could imagine the scene quite clearly. “And? How did Rangiku respond?”

He shrugged, tying off the sutures. “She said she’d try but that it would be difficult since she does have other duties as a lieutenant.” He looked up at her as he applied the ointment. “But, Kokone said that if her mother could manage, then there’s no reason her favorite aunt can’t.”

“She’s a smart girl, isn’t she?” She mused.

“She gets it from her mother,” Toshiro said with a smirk.

“Oh, please, clearly she gets it from you.”

He shook his head, wrapping up the needle and opened sutures tightly in the paper wrappers and tossing them in the bin. “She has my hair and eyes, and maybe a bit of my cold unapproachable personality. But everything else, she gets from you.”

“You aren’t cold and unapproachable,” Momo said, pulling her robe back on, hissing a little when she felt a tug in her side. “And her natural intellect is definitely something from you. I wasn’t nearly that smart when I was her age.”

“I always thought you were.”

Momo rolled her eyes and smacked his arm lightly, “You’re biased.”

“So are you,” He countered, grabbing her fingers and pulling her close. She rested her forehead against his when his arms wrapped around her lightly, careful of her injuries. “I missed you,” He said.

Momo leaned up and kissed his lips lightly, sighing as he pulled her close. “I missed you too,” She mumbled against his lips. “Normally, I’d want you to show me just how much you missed me,” Momo smiled and playfully weaved her fingers in his hair. “But it’s so late and I’m honestly so exhausted I might fall asleep on you.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers, teasing her with a kiss on the tip. “Rain check, then,” He said, his fingers weaving between hers and leading her tiredly to their bedroom for a much deserved sleep.

[darkroguescribe]

Fireworks

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 1: Academy Days / Fireworks

Rating: K

Summary: Hitsugaya is preparing to take his Captain's Exam. But doubts weigh heavy on his mind.

AN: Originally posted on AO3

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Eyes followed him everywhere he went. It wasn’t unusual for him, his white hair and turquoise eyes tended to draw attention whether he wanted it or not. But these days, the stares were more intensely judging him. It was no secret that Toshiro Hitsugaya had been working on mastering his bankai for the past few years. But since Captain Shiba had vanished, and the Tenth Division was in need of a captain, he’d begun to consider taking the Captain’s Exam to fill that vacancy. Once word got out that he’d take the exam, every soul reaper he’d pass would stare and whisper among one another. He’d learned to ignore most people talking about him but hearing it from within his own division was another thing.

He’d heard a few unranked members talk about transferring if he was made captain. Laughing at how ridiculous it would be for them to take orders from a kid. Fortunately, Lieutenant Matsumoto seemed to be in full support of him should he be made captain. After all, he’d practically been running the whole place since even before Captain Shiba left. His administrative skills were evident since the very beginning. The questions laid mostly in his maturity and leadership. Hitsugaya made it to his room after training after dodging most of the larger streets to avoid the stares. Entering his room, he began his nightly routine of polishing his zanpakuto and planning with the spirit for what to practice tomorrow. “My Sennen Hyoro could use work. The pillars are too thin. I’m sure there is a way to strengthen them without expending too much energy.” He said.

In his mind he heard Hyorinmaru rumble in agreement. “You think too much in preparation,” The dragon said. “Lay the trap. Then lead the enemy within.”

“That leaves too much up for chance.”

The dragon spoke quietly in an almost nurturing tone and said, “Not ready.”

Hitsugaya caught his reflection in the blade and simply held the sword where it was. Not ready meant too young. And as he looked at himself, he thought that perhaps the dragon is right. Not ready to perfect his bankai. And perhaps even too young to become captain. His face was still boyish and he was quite short even for his age. The idea that he could even achieve bankai wasn’t even taken seriously by most. Men in his own division had doubts. Maybe the entire division would be better off waiting for someone else to take over. He’d still be the 3rd seat and that would give him time to grow up and gain further mastery of his bankai.

“Lil’ Shiro!” A loud knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts as he looked at the shadow of the figure outside. “Lil’ Shiro you in there?”

Hitsugaya groaned, putting his zanpakuto away. “What is it Hinamori?” He asked as he slid open the door.

“Hello to you too, Lil’ Shiro,” She beamed at him, not even bothered by the annoyed tone of his voice.

“I thought you said you’d call me by my name once I became a soul reaper.”

She just smiled and shrugged, “I did. And I do, at least when on official business. But right now, we’re both off so, you’re Lil’ Shiro.”

He groaned, realizing he wasn’t likely to get her to stop at least not now anyway. “Can you at least drop the ‘Lil’’? I’m not that short anymore.”

Hinamori laughed, “Okay Lil’— I mean, Shiro.”

“What do you want anyway?”

“I wanted to know if you’d come with me back to my barracks.” Her voice dropped into a whisper as she cupped her hands as though it were some big secret. “We planned a special fireworks show for Captain Aizen’s birthday tonight.”

“You realize everyone already knows about that, right?”

“Come on it’ll be fun. Just like the ones we’d watch as kids.” She reached out and grabbed his arm and began tugging.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and debated the option of going versus staying for a solid minute before agreeing. Outwardly, it looked as though he was reluctant to attend. But deep down he knew that his mind had been made up the moment she smiled at him.

Together, the two of them made their way in the direction of the Fifth Division. The closer they got, the more people seemed to already be crowding the street waiting for the fireworks. Hinamori had to elbow her way through, dragging him along behind her in order to get to the gate where guards stopped them. With a flash of her lieutenant’s badge, she got them both in without any further fuss and they made their way to the roof where a bunch of other officers gathered. They found a relatively quiet part and Hinamori sat down, her feet dangling over the edge while Hitsugaya remained standing.

“Hey I meant to congratulate you on getting a date for your Captain’s Exam,” She said.

“Hmm.”

“When’s it going to be?”

“Two weeks.”

Hinamori frowned. “I thought you’d be a little excited about it,” She said.

He turned his head towards the nearest pair of officers, feeling their eyes on the back of his head. When their eyes met, the pair just laughed and turned in on themselves.

She noticed this silent exchange and stood up. “Hey, I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t,” Hitsugaya sighed.

“You’re going to be a captain. I can’t have members of my division not be respectful to the other captains.”

He was quiet and glanced around to make sure no one could hear him before he spoke again. “What if… what if I don’t become captain?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

He shrugged and bowed his head slightly, his shoulders rolled forward a little. “What if… I don’t get it? What if I fail?”

Hinamori moved around to step in front of him, looking down at her best friend who was one of the smartest, bravest people she knows show her how nervous he really is. Hitsugaya was not one to show weakness often and for him to do so right now, she had a feeling this had been eating away at him for awhile. “Here, come with me.” Taking his arm, she quickly brought him down into the barracks and then into her room shutting the door behind them. “Talk,” She said, pushing him to sit down on the futon and taking a seat right next to him.

Hitsugaya was quiet as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on bent knees. “There are some… doubts about my ability to become a captain,” He began. “Since Captain Shiba left, I thought I could be the next captain. He’d always say I was bound to be captain after him but… I never thought it’d be this soon.”

“He believed in you for a reason, Toshiro,” She said. “I’m sure he saw how your determination, intellect, and talents would do great things for the division. And between Shiba and Matsumoto, you’ve been captain in every capacity but in name.”

He scoffed and shook his head, “I don’t think I’ll become captain with administrative skills alone.”

“No, but you have mastered your bankai. That has to say something, right?”

Hitsugaya shrugged. “‘Mastered’ might be too strong a word,” He said. “I can use it for about eight minutes but after that…”

“That’s still more than most. I don’t even know my bank’s name.” She wasn’t getting through to him. She could see him curling further and further in on himself as his thoughts seemed to snowball. “Is this all because of what a couple people said?”

“A couple?” He scoffed, “Try just about everyone in the Soul Society. I’ve heard it all from ‘turning the 10th into a daycare’, to me ‘lying about having achieved my bankai’. Even members of my own division don’t want me as captain. How am I supposed to lead them, if they don’t want me?”

Hinamori scooted closer and wrapped her arms tightly around him like when they were kids. Normally, he’d just push her off and the fact that he didn’t spoke volumes to how much weight this exam was putting on him. She wished there was something she could do to get rid of everyones doubt about him because she believed so much in his ability, but she couldn’t. “Let’s go back to the 10th,” She said.

“Huh? But I thought you wanted to see the fireworks.”

She waved them off, “They’re just fireworks. And this is way more important.”

Rather than taking the long way back through roads that were now crowded, the two of them traveled by rooftop using shunpo to get there quickly. Making a quick stop at his quarters, he took his zanpakuto at her instruction before heading to the empty courtyard the division used for training. “What are we doing here?” He asked as she pushed him to stand in the middle of the yard before backing a good distance away and sitting down.

“Practicing your captain’s exam, of course,” She said.

“Huh?”

“You’re going to have three captains and the head captain you’ll have to demonstrate it to. So you’re going to pretend I’m the captains and show me what you can do.”

Hitsugaya’s face was vacant as he stared at her almost incredulous at the idea. “Do you even know how the exam works?” He knew of course but had been sworn to secrecy about the exam process.

“Nope. I’m just guessing.”

“This is ridiculous—“

“—No it’s not!”

“What if someone—“

“No one is here! They’re all at the fireworks.”

“But what about—“

“—Just show me already, Shiro!”

“Ugh! Fine,” He grumbled, drawing his zanpakuto. Looking at her across the yard, he suddenly felt a bit nervous having never shown anyone his bankai before. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to check that there was in fact no one around, before lowering himself into a fighting stance. “Bankai!”

The temperature dropped around them and ice crystalized across the yard as his reiatsu flowed evenly from his body. Ice formed across his shoulder into a pair of wings that spread wide, with a crystal tail at the base of the juncture where the two wings met and his legs and right arm were encased in ice. Hitsugaya stared across to the other end of the yard where Hinamori sat quietly taking it all in with a wide smile.

“Wow, you’re amazing, Shiro!” She said, standing and taking a few steps closer before stopping. “Um, can I come closer?”

He nodded and watched her smile broaden before she trotted over to him and circled around him. He felt her eyes on him and for the first time in a while didn’t mind the intensity of her stares. Maybe it was because she was one of the only ones to believe in him, or maybe it was just because it was her. Either way, he wouldn’t mind if she stared at him like that again.

Coming to stand back in front of him, she reached out and gently touched one of his wings. “It’s so cold,” she said.

“It’s ice, dummy,” He said with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s so amazing though.”

Overhead, the sound of the fireworks beginning drew both their attentions skyward. The bright colors illuminated the sky but from where they were they couldn’t see them. An idea popped into his head and he found himself speaking before properly thinking it through. “Um, you know these wings aren’t just for show. I actually can fly with them.” Hitsugaya felt his cheeks heat with the unspoken suggestion and turned his body sideways to avoid her laughter.

To his surprise, she took a sharp intake of breath and grabbed his shoulders. “We can watch the fireworks from the sky!” She said. Her excitement, too much for him to even consider denying.

Opening his arms, she gladly wrapped her arms about his neck and he held on tight to her before using his wings to thrust them skyward. She screamed at the sudden speed with which he took off and held on tighter before erupting into giggles as he reached a point in the sky where he was level with the fireworks taking place at the Fifth. He felt her head lean onto his shoulder as they watched and he felt himself smile. He paid the fireworks little attention, focused only on her, taking in her smile, her relaxed breaths, the small ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s she’d say after particularly interesting fireworks went off. Time faded into a single moment that he longed to stretch out as long as possible.

After the last of the fireworks had ended, Hitsugaya slowly brought them back to the ground and he released his bankai. “That was amazing, Shiro,” Hinamori said, hugging him tightly.

“I’ll say.”

The two friends broke apart and looked over to the entrance to see Captain Aizen standing there, his gentle smile easing them into a sense of calm.

“Captain Aizen! I thought you’d be at the party.” Hinamori said, torn between leaping to his side or staying at her friends side.

Aizen gently raised his hand in a calming gesture that made it clear there was nothing to worry about. “I was for awhile. But then I was wondering where my wonderful lieutenant who planned the whole thing had run off to.” He smiled as he walked closer to the two of them. “I wanted to thank you for all the effort you put into this day.”

Hinamori beamed under the praise and bowed respectfully to her superior. “It was nothing really. Everyone helped out. We all wanted to show our appreciation for you.”

Aizen placed his hand on her head affectionately, “Still, your passion and attention to detail are much appreciated by me personally.” He looked over to Hitsugaya and folded his hands in the sleeves of his shihakusho. “Third seat Hitsugaya.”

“Sir,” Hitsugaya bowed stiffly.

“Your bankai looks quite impressive.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Aizen leaned closer to him, “You know, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’ll be one of the captains observing you at the exam.” He stood back to his full height. “I look forward to seeing what you can do, future Captain of the Tenth Division.” With one final nod at the two of them, he took his leave, walking leisurely away from the barracks.

Once he was out of sight, Hinamori grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed him tightly. “See? Even Captain Aizen thinks you’ll do great!” She said, smiling and laughing with joy.

Hitusgaya felt himself smile as he wrapped his arms around her as well. His nerves were still there but the doubts in his head had quieted. He was going to become the captain of the Tenth Division. And no matter what anyone says, he’ll work hard to prove he is worthy of that title.

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 1: Academy Days / Fireworks

Rating: K

Summary: Toshiro’s first day at the Shino Academy

AN: I wrote this initially as a sequel to my Field of Ice oneshot but it can be read as a standalone.

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The start of a new term had the campus of the Shino Academy a buzz with friends reuniting after weeks apart. Momo weaved her way through the crowd, exchanging smiles and waves with friends as she searched for the familiar red hair that adorned Renji’s head. The tallest of her close friends, he’d be the easiest to spot in the masses. Momo smiled when she caught sight of him several yards away, talking animatedly with Izuru who was just listening calmly with a relaxed smile on his lips.

“Hey Momo!” Izuru waved her over, and she ran to join them. “How was it? Working in the Fifth Division?”

Momo smiled. Over the break she’d been among a small group of students selected for special apprenticeship program. The first of its kind, it gave high achieving students a glimpse into the real responsibilities that they would be entering upon graduating. “It was great!” She said, recounting to them the details of her days shadowing seated officers in their daily duties and even the handful of missions in the World of the Living she’d been permitted to go on. The two boys listened closely, taking in every thing they could and asking questions as they came.

She sighed as she recounted the day she got to train with the whole division and how Captain Aizen took the time to train everyone individually when he could. It had been absolutely wonderful and everything she had ever hoped for.

Renji rolled his eyes. Despite having seen Aizen’s skill years ago, he wasn’t nearly as impressed by him as she was. Not that she could blame him when he had his eye on Captain Kuchiki’s division. “Whatever,” He said as a way to end the talk about the break. “Hey, did you hear about the new guy?” He asked.

“Eh? New guy?”

“Yeah,” Izuru said. “He’s supposed to be some kind of genius. He only took the entrance exam and they’re already putting him in our class.”

“What?” The only person she’d heard of being able to do that, was Lieutenant Ichimaru. Momo never thought someone like that could show up twice in a matter of decades.

“I wouldn’t be too worried, Momo,” Renji said, smirking. “I bet he’s all talk and no skill. Probably some noble brat who talked their way in. He’s sure to get a rude awakening when I challenge him in zanjutsu class.”

Momo frowned. Renji might be one of the best swordsmen in their class, but he also was the one most likely to go overboard to prove a point. And she really didn’t like the idea of him trying to prove his dominance over someone who was probably nervous about their first day and having this ‘genius’ label attached to them.

The bell started to ring, and with mild apprehension, the three of them made their way to their first class. Geography was among the least interesting courses that they were required to complete every year. The class had already covered a range of topics from the general topography of the world of the living, population distributions, and the division of territory among all thirteen divisions. It would be an understatement to say everyone was more or less tired of the topic. Momo entered the class with her friends and they all found their preferred seats in the middle of the room. All around, Momo could hear their other classmates talking about the new student that was to join them.

Everyone had wild theories about him. Some said he was the youngest son of some noble family using their influence to push him through the academy quickly, others said he was some bandit from one of the far off districts to the west. None of the rumors were consistent and few of them sounded plausible.

“Alright class, settle down!” Master Onabara said as he walked in and stood in front of the class. Everyone took their seats, their interest piqued as they looked between him and the classroom door. “As I’m sure you are all aware by now, we will be joined by a new student this year,” He said, gesturing to someone outside the room. Momo’s jaw dropped as the new student entered. “Allow me to introduce—“

“—Shiro?!” Momo stood from her seat, staring in disbelief at the boy standing at the front of the class. Snickers could be heard at the nickname, and the boy hunched in on himself slightly, his eyes narrowing at her.

Master Onabara slammed his fist on his desk, “Settle!” He ordered. “As I was saying; This is Toshiro Hitsugaya. He scored the highest written and performance scores on the entrance exam this academy has seen in decades. Now, Hitsugaya, find a seat and we shall begin.”

Shiro bowed to Master Onabara and made his way to the back of the class, taking the seat close to the window.

Momo couldn’t help but keep looking back at him throughout class. She barely paid any attention, and her notes were unusually blank. Izuru nudged her a few times to ask what was the matter, but she just brushed him off for now. She was still sorting through it all herself.

“Hinamori!” Momo stood, as Master Onabara called on her. “Which island is Naruki City on?”

“Um,” She glanced down at her book, and flipped through the pages to figure out where exactly they were. “Naruki, it’s near the —er—”

“—Honshu.” Her head turned around sharply as the rest of the class turned to look at Shiro as well. He had that familiar bored expression on his face as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand while the other dexterously twirled his pen. “Naruki City is on Honshu in the Japanese Archipelago,” He continued. “It has a high concentration of hollow activity due to its proximity to a jureichi.” Momo glanced between Master Onabara and Shiro as she sank back down into her seat. Quiet murmurs from her classmates reached her ears, everyone a bit curious at the developing situation.

Master Onabara’s jaw clenched tightly as he looked disapprovingly at Shiro. “Yes, but I had directed the question at—“

“She wouldn’t have been able to answer,” Shiro said. Her stomach sank at the statement as her cheeks heated in embarassment. “No one would be able to answer it,” Shiro added. “We’re talking about the cities in Central Europe under the jurisdiction of the Thirteenth Division. Neither of which applies to Naruki City. So, unless they’ve read ahead eleven chapters, no one here would even know it exists.”

The tension was evident between Shiro and Master Onabara as the two stared at one another across the room. “Speak with me after class,” Master Onabara said, turning back to the board and continuing with the lecture. Momo glanced back at him, and for a moment, their eyes met. She smiled at him, but he rolled his eyes and shifted to look out the window instead. Izuru nudged her, and pointed at the page number they were on. Deciding it was best not to call attention to herself again, she turned back forward and started taking notes.

Nothing else of interest happened in class. As everyone filed out, Momo waited in the hall by the door for Shiro. Renji and Izuru waited with her, the former yawning loudly with his arms folded behind his head as he stretched. “Why exactly are we waiting for that guy?” He asked.

“I think because he helped Momo out of a tight spot, right?” Izuru asked.

Renji scoffed, “He didn’t do it to help. Arrogant prick like that, does that kind of stuff for the attention; believe me, I know the type.”

Momo was about to correct him, when she caught sight of Shiro leaving the room and walking right past them. “Shiro!” She smiled and ran after him, but he just kept walking. “Hey! Shiro!” Coming up along side him, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were enrolling? How did you get into my class? How’s Granny doing? Was it —“

Shiro pulled away from her putting several feet between them as he straightened his uniform. “Quit it, will ya!” He said, “And stop with the ‘Shiro’. I thought you said you’d call me by my name if I went to this stupid school.”

“Oh right, I did promise that, didn’t I?” She laughed, “Alright, Toshiro. I’ll try. But it might take awhile to get used to.” He sighed and shook his head. “Oh! And you remember I told you about Izuru and Renji,” She turned and pointed to her friends standing behind her. Izuru smiled politely, and Renji waved his hand at him.

Toshiro looked up at them, seeming to take the measure of them more than having any real interest in knowing them. “Okay,” He said, turning and continuing on his way.

Momo watched him walk away, then ran after him again, “Hey! Wait!” She called, “This school is huge and it’s not like we don’t have the same morning classes. You can walk with us. You’re going to need friends—“

“—Just stop already,” Toshiro said, halting and only barely turning his head to look at her. “You mean well, but I’ve been just fine on my own these past few years. I don’t need to tag along with your friends.”

“But… you’re my friend too.”

Toshiro sighed, and looked around at the other students passing them by. She could hear them whispering about him, and she knew he heard them as well. “Yeah… we are friends… I gotta go,” He said, walking off, leaving her standing in the hall.

“What did I tell you? The little jerk!” Renji said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Acting all high and mighty. Some friend!” He shouted down the hall, cupping his hand around his mouth to make sure his voice traveled. “I wouldn’t waste my time worrying about him, Momo.”

A knit formed in her brow as she watched Toshiro walk down the hall. He was clearly troubled by something. Was it all the chatter about him that was making him colder than usual? Or was it something else?

———

The rest of the morning classes went by with much less fanfare than geography. Toshiro sat in the back of every class, ignoring every and all the attempts she made to coax him to sit up closer by where she and her friends sat. It didn’t make any sense to Momo. In Junrinan, they had been inseparable; not even the worst insults jabbed at his expense had ever been enough to keep them from being around one another. Momo had told Renji and Izuru about her relationship with Toshiro and how he had been her first and best friend since arriving in the Soul Society. But, that had just left them confused about why he was acting so coldly towards her now.

“He doesn’t really sound like the Shiro you told us about,” Izuru said during their lunch break as they walked around looking for Toshiro. After their last class, he’d practically vanished. The first one out the door, and getting lost in the crowd; she’d barely seen a flash of his white hair before he was swallowed up in the chaos of the lunch break.

“You made him sound like such a nice little kid. I don’t see how that bastard would be okay with you dragging him around all over the place like you said you did.” Renji shook his head, eating from his bento box as they walked.

Momo shrugged, “Well, he was. And you should know, he doesn’t like being called a little kid… especially since he’s actually older than me.”

He choked on his rice ball, dropping half of it on the ground “You serious?” Renji cracked up laughing, “He’s so small! He looks like a little grade schooler!”

Izuru sighed, “But clearly, he’s not,” He said. “They put him in our class so he’s someone who shouldn’t be underestimated.”

“Izuru’s right,” She added. “He’s not easily intimidated and his determination can be a force to be reckoned with when he wants something bad enough.” He didn’t become to local spinning top champion in Junrinan by chance. Momo remembered how he’d test different wood, and string, test different surfaces and the angle of his tops to ensure the best possible result. At one point, he probably had fifty different tops in their bedroom, as he prepared for his last and most important match against this large kid that often poked fun at Toshiro. She smiled at the memory of that boy losing and how Toshiro had just walked away with a content smile on his face.

Renji shrugged, unfazed by the possible challenge Toshiro would pose as they came to a stop by one of the trees on the edge of the quad and sat down in the shade. They’d been walking around looking for him for a good fifteen minutes with no luck. It made sense that they’d get tired of looking for him. It wasn’t like he was their friend yet. Izuru pulled his lunch out of his pack, changing the topic of conversation to their next few classes which had been split into several different sections and electives that allowed them to focus more on their particular talents. Momo gently excused herself from the conversation, deciding to keep looking for Toshiro instead. There were so many other places he could have run off to, and she just had to try and talk to him while they had some free time.

Bidding her friends goodbye, she made her way to the large wooded grove on campus. The woods were a popular place for students to practice shunpo. With trees everywhere, and no discernible pattern to be found, one had to be careful and agile not to run into one of the large oaks or trip over the intricate root systems. As she kept walking, she began to wonder if maybe he would have picked a more secluded place to spend lunch. The woods was only one of many environments the campus had onsite. To the North, there were large rocky hills that featured several underground caves, there was also the lake to the West, he could even be in one of the empty classrooms in the many buildings that made up the academy. Momo frowned. Basically, he could be anywhere.

A cold breeze blew past her, stopping her in her tracks as she shivered and looked around. It didn’t feel like someone running past her, the sensation felt more like the winter breeze when snow is picked up from the ground and blown like a wave across the land. Momo shivered again, feeling it blow past her as she looked around herself. There was not a cloud in the sky, yet as she looked down, the grass looked wet, some blades even had the slight shine of frost on them. Turning about, she noticed that the frost got thicker in one direction more so than the others, so she decided to follow it. As she walked, the frost became ice, thickening the further she went. Weaving through about five trees, she caught sight of the blue color that adorned the boys uniforms behind a tree several yards away. “Hey,” Momo called, walking closer, and peering around to see who it was. The patch of ice he was sitting on encased the entirety of the tree roots and about three feet of the trunk he was leaning against but none of it seemed to affect him. “Hey,” She called again coming around from behind the tree. Her breath hitched, as she looked down and saw Toshiro, sound asleep, his pack resting against his thigh, and his head leaning against his asauchi. Momo crouched down beside him, shaking him lightly, “Shiro?”

He jolted awake, and looked around, nervously, his hand tightening around the sword. Momo gripped his shoulders, until he relaxed, and his eyes settled on her. She smiled at him, “You okay?” She asked.

Toshiro pinched the bridge of his nose, “I fell asleep,” He said, running his hand over his face and into his hair.

“I can see that,” She frowned. “Was… was this you?” She asked, looking at ice now melting around them.

He looked away from her, then moved to stand. She let him up, and he dusted himself off. “Yeah…” He said quietly.

She smiled brightly, “That’s amazing!” She said, barely noticing the confused look that crossed his face, “You must be really close to manifesting your zanpakuto then. Maybe we can train together! Could you imagine it? Us discovering them at the same time!”

Turning an asauchi into a zanpakuto was a long and complex process that normally took years of practice just to find the spirit that lived within. At this point in their training, there was maybe only two or three students who claimed to now know the name of their zanpakuto, yet none of them have yet to show their shikai. Momo felt like she was getting close to manifesting her own zanpakuto. Every time she meditated with it, she felt this warmth all around her like the heat from a campfire. It brought a smile to her face every time she thought about it, and it was only a matter of time before she brought it forth.

Toshiro stepped back away, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Eh? Why not?”

He closed in on himself, holding his sword close in front of him. “I was told it was best to train alone,” He said.

“Wha— but… the rules…” While highly unlikely, the manifestation skill wasn’t without risks. A handful or records showed that it is possible to dive too deep into ones inner world or even for the zanpakuto spirit to reject them as their master. If that were to happen, it opens the possibility for the wielder to be injured or even killed. By training with a second person, an anchor can be formed so that when there is trouble, the wielder can pull themselves out by following the reiryoku of the second person.

Toshiro shrugged, “Apparently, my connection to the spirit is… quite strong. They don’t want me to hurt anyone by mistake.”

“Wha— but you wouldn’t.”

“I could,” He said. “I can’t train with anyone. Not now anyway.” The silence dragged out between them as Momo took in how he kept himself more guarded than she’d seen him in a long time. His shoulders were closed, and his eyes were narrowed in a way that suggested he was wary of something. Toshiro sighed, “I should go,” He said, grabbing his pack from the ground and turning to walk back towards the quad.

“Hey,” She reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him. Lunch wasn’t even halfway over yet. “Come eat with me and my friends.”

He looked down at her hand on his arm and shook his head, “I really shouldn’t—“

“—Why not?” She asked. “It’s just lunch.” He said nothing, but she could tell his answer wasn’t going to change. “Will you at least eat lunch with me?”

Toshiro thought about it for a moment and shrugged, “Sure.”

Momo smiled, and they sat down under the same tree he had been napping under and unpacked their lunches.

“Hey, I meant to thank you for what you did in geography for me,” She said, biting back a giggle as she looked at his lunch which consisted of onigiri and watermelon. And knowing him, he probably had a whole bag of amanatto in his pack for later.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d just paid attention instead of staring at me,” He shot back.

“Sorry. But you can’t blame it all on me. You never even told me you’d applied!”

Toshiro leaned back, and spit a watermelon seed high in the air, holding out his hand and catching it between his index and middle finger as it fell. “You didn’t come back at the end of term.”

She felt a tightening in her chest at the mention of the break. She’d promised time after time that she would be home for all her breaks. But the apprenticeship… how could she have possibly refused? The selection had been highly competitive and the things she’d learned would be invaluable for whatever division she ends up in after graduating.

He tossed the seed away, continuing. “You couldn’t even tell us in person. I know you found out about the thing two weeks before term ended. You could have come back on the weekend and told us then. Instead, we just got a letter explaining that you wouldn’t be coming back, but promising you’d visit after the start of the new year.” Toshiro shook his head.

He was clearly hurt by her absence and it tore at her to know she was the cause. Momo pulled at her fingers nervously. “I’m sorry…” It sounded so weak hearing the words leave her mouth. She needed to say something else, but try as she might, she couldn’t come up with anything.

He sighed, and reached for one of his watermelon slices and held it out towards her. “Don’t worry about it,” He said. “I’m not even mad about that anymore.”

Momo accepted the offered slice and smiled. It was so typical of her Shiro to forgive her so easily. She didn’t know how he did it, but he always found a way to move forward even when things got hard or painful. It was one of the things she admired about him. Biting into the juicy fruit, she dug around for one of the seeds, smiling broadly when she found one, and launched it from between her teeth at his head.

His eyes went wide when the black dot hit him right in the temple. Glaring at her, she smirked, and then instantly regretted it when he devoured the rest of his piece, and fired five seeds at her. Momo laughed, holding up her hand to block the onslaught. “Stop it, Shiro!”

“You’re supposed to call me by my name, Bed-wetter! And you started it!”

He picked up his last slice of melon, eating it in one large bite, and pelting her with four more seeds. “Okay! I’m sorry!” She said between laughs.

“You’re sorry?”

She sighed, “I’m sorry, Toshiro!”

Satisfied, he stopped, leaning back against the tree and wiping the watermelon from his chin. Momo smiled, leaning back as well, their shoulders brushing as they stared up at the canopy of trees above them. It was so different here than back in Junrinan but just as she had always suspected, it felt so much better with him there with her. It was also a bit strange too especially after he’d been so adamant that he’d never become a soul reaper. For him to be here was, in a way, him admitting he was wrong. And Toshiro hated being wrong. Even if he had suddenly changed his mind about wanting to be a soul reaper, he was the type of person who would still refuse to join out of spite.

Momo glanced at him out of the side of her eye, “Toshiro…?” His eyes were closed, but he cracked one to look at her, waiting for her to continue. “Why did you enroll?”

Both his eyes opened as his usual frown deepened. “I didn’t have a choice.” The sound of the bell’s toll cut off whatever else he was going to say as they both looked towards the campus. Toshiro sighed, his head banging back agains the tree trunk as he looked up in a clear debate with himself over something. He heaved another loud breath before standing and gathering his things. Momo did the same and as they stood there under the tree, he looked at her and said, “Find me after class. We’ll talk then.” Without waiting for a response, he began walking back towards the quad.

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 4: Back to Back/ I’m Sorry

Rating: K

Summary: Momo and Toshiro have an argument weeks before their wedding.

AN: A bit shorter than I usually like but still a good one.

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The grass blew lightly in the peaceful summer breeze as birds flew in formation above. The light of the sun reflected in the clear and calm waters of the canal that cut through Karakura Town. Momo sighed, blowing wisps of her hair that had come loose from the chignon she had hastily downed her hair into earlier. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. But she’d had to get away from… everything. Momo held her hand out and stared at the diamond ring on her left hand. Everything had started out so perfect this morning. She had woken up in the tight embrace of her fiancé, their legs tangled together with the sheets. They’d had a nice breakfast and discussed the ongoing plans for the wedding.

She’d chatted on and on about about the catering, the cake, and gushed at the custom embroidered napkins Rangiku had ordered for the occasion. Toshiro really didn’t care about that kind of stuff, but he’d smiled and listened anyway, contributing his own opinions, and remarking on how diligent Rangiku has been since she’d appointed herself as their wedding planner. But then he had to bring up the paperwork involved with marriage. Boring legal documents, and certificates that they needed to fill out either before or after the ceremony to make everything official. The problem was that it inevitably brought up the topic of names which had been something they hadn’t really discussed at length.

She had come to the decision on her own about a month ago after spending weeks debating the whole thing with herself. She wasn’t going to take his name when they married. Momo liked her name. Momo Hinamori is who she had always been. And as much as she loved Toshiro’s name, Momo Hitsugaya just wasn’t the name she wanted everyone referring to her as. She loves Toshiro. She wants to be his wife, have a family with him someday. She wants to be by his side everyday for the rest of their lives. But she just wants to do it carrying her own name. What about that was so hard for him to understand?

Young as he is, there are some things that makes him seem like such… an old man. Insisting that husband and wife need to carry the same surname. He even went so far as the suggest he take her name. Toshiro Hinamori. That just sounded stupid. His name was perfect for him. And maybe for their children someday. But not for her.

The argument had been loud, voices raised and reiatsu flaring from both of them as neither of them were willing to concede the point. With nothing left to say, they had gone their separate ways still fuming after the exchange. Momo had tried to find a secluded place to calm down without being reminded of him. But that is hard to do when there are so few places that don’t hold some memory of the two of them together. He’d proposed to her in their old childhood home. The hills on the Academy grounds had been where they’d go to relax after a long day of classes. They liked the same tea shops, and restaurants where they’d go on dates too. And both of their respective barracks were filled with fond memories of lunch breaks and lazy afternoons spent together. Momo glanced up at the sky, groaning as she noticed the blue sky giving way to a light pink color as the sun was beginning its slow decent. Hell, even the sunsets reminded her of him.

Falling onto her back, she covered her face with her arms. Horrible as it sounds, she wished a hoard of hollows was roaming around the city right now. It would give her something to distract from her miserable mood. But, no. Karakura had to be uncharacteristically quiet when she arrived today. She’d spent hours wandering the streets looking for anything to do. But the only thing she’d found were a few wholes that she’d performed konsos on. The rest of the day, she’d just walked around. She avoided her Captain’s visord friends, not wanting her location relayed back to the Sereitei in case her angry fiancé came looking for her. She didn’t want to argue with him again.

Momo let her arms fall away when the heat of the sun faded. Holding her hand up, she watched the fading light play on the edges of the diamond with slivers of red and orange reflecting for a few minutes before finally surrendering to the dark. She frowned and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. They were getting married in a few weeks and right now, when they should be happy, they were anything but. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the deal breaker for them. She knew that she couldn’t budge on this. It was her name. It wasn’t something as trivial as deciding which side of the closet was hers, or opening a joint bank account. Momo would be the first to admit that their relationship had been anything but smooth sailing. They’d had their fair share of challenges and concessions over the years. None of them felt this irresolvable.

The hairs on the back of her arms rose as she felt his presence approaching behind her. Her back stiffened as she kept her eyes locked on the water in front of her even as his shadow loomed over her. He made no move to sit down beside her or get any closer, as he kept his distance.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” He said. “Didn’t think you’d actually come to the World of the Living to get away from me.”

“You’re not easy to get away from,” She sighed. “Suppose that’s what I get for falling in love with my best friend.”

“…Yeah…”

She sat up a little taller, squaring her shoulders. “I’m not changing my mind on this, Toshiro,” She said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

He was dressed in dark jeans and a black button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hands were tucked in his pockets. “I know you aren’t,” He said. “I… is it so wrong that I want everyone to know you’re mine? For you to carry my name and make it clear that you’re happily married?”

“I’m wearing your ring. Isn’t that enough?”

“…”

“If you want me to shout from the top of Sokyoku Hill that I’m with you, that you are the only man I will ever love, then I’ll do it. But I’m not changing my name. And I won’t let you take mine either.”

He was quiet for a long moment, gathering his thoughts carefully before he spoke again. Toshiro sighed, his shoulder slumped. “Is it really that important to you?” He asked.

Momo nodded in reply.

Lifting his head to the sky, his brow was in a tight knit as he thought for several more minutes. The sound of the flowing water in the canal and the chirps of crickets the only sound between them. “Alright,” He said quietly when he was ready. “I… I can’t say I fully understand it. Or even agree, but… I can live with it.” He swallowed a lump in his throat and his shoulders tensed a bit. “I… I’m sorry, Momo.”

She held out her hand toward him and he immediately took it, letting her tug him to sit down beside her. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the ring on her finger as she scooted closer to him, pressing her body into his side. “You know I love you, right?”

“As I love you.”

Momo smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder as their fingers intertwined and they relaxed against one another. A cool night breeze ruffled the tall grass around them as they just sat there, content in the peace they had brokered. Momo knew there was a deeper reasoning behind the whole name thing for Toshiro. But she wasn’t going to press him on it for now. Instead, she looked up at the stars with him, taking comfort in the sounds of the waters in the canal and the crickets serenading the night.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Today is the last day of HitsuHina Week June 2023, and Celebrate Bleach July 2023 starts tomorrow! @rays-of-fire-and-ice is running back to back events for us, and I wanted to take a moment to give her a shoutout for all of the work she has put into creating guidelines, soliciting and organizing prompts, promoting the events, making sure all of the pieces get collected and reblogged, and doing all of the behind-the-scenes work that brings life to events like these, but so often goes unsung. 💖 AND creating fanworks for the events too?!?1

We are so lucky to have you as both an organizer and a writer, and I am so happy that these events exist, because having all these new fics to read has been stellar and I'm probably not alone in saying that were it not for the prompts and the deadlines *my* entry would not have existed at all.

✨ Thank you! ✨

(I am... not sure how evident this is, but that was my attempt at making an ice flower and a peach blossom. 🥰 It's a six-sheet "snowflake" origami and a tsumami kanzashi made out of satin ribbon! AKA taken together THE hairpiece of all time hehe)

--

Below the cut, my ice flower attempt #1, because it made me LAUGH OUT LOUD what an ice blorbo omggg

"easy kirigami" they said "great for kids" they said OKAY

And here's the clean base photo:

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 3: Shinigami/ AU

Rating: K

Summary: Set in the Machine Society AU. Police Lieutenant Hinamori has to attend a gala hosted by the Executive Committee where she runs into Toshiro who works for the Vigilance Committee.

AN: The AU originally came from Brave Souls. I took some ideas from my WIP that can be found on AO3. I think of this almost like a mini sequel since it references some events that I have planned for that story.

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Gilded carriages bearing the crests of the most influential in the Machine Society lined the entrance to the capital building. Momo looked out the window of her own carriage, waiting for the line to move. She’d never set foot inside the grand building before. Large fire basins sat atop the massive marble pillars casting light across the front garden filled with floating lanterns casting the spring flowers in a light amber glow. It looked almost like a scene from a fairy tale.

Siting back in her seat, she adjusted the front of her coat and then began to nervously play with the ends of the red sash tied around her waist. The occasion had required full dress uniform and Momo hadn’t worn anything this elegant before. The uniform consisted of a long black coat edged with golden laurel leaves embroidered on the edges and cuffs and a high collar bearing the Lilly of the Valley that marked her rank as a lieutenant. The black waistcoat had gold trim and the red sash at her waist was tied with the knot on her right side. The black leather belt she wore over the sash carried no weapons and she felt empty without anything at her side. White trousers and knee-high black riding boots completed the ensemble.

Momo shifted uncomfortably as the carriages moved up. She’d rather be anywhere but here. Politicians and aristocrats were among her least favorite people to deal with and now she had to socialize with them for an entire night. At least she knew there would be others from her department in attendance. Police Commander Kyoraku was going to be there, along with Lieutenant Ise who would probably be watering down his drinks so as not to make a fool of himself in front of the heads of state. But besides them, she didn’t know anyone else.

The Vigilance Committee would be there, but whether Toshiro and his team would be in attendance was questionable. Toshiro had told her that the secrecy of his work meant that few even knew the team existed, let alone the role they played in ensuring the everyday safety of the whole of the Machine Society. She didn’t think it was fair, especially after seeing how they had dealt with the murderous support bot crisis, and how they took down the Phantom Thieves. And no one would ever know the truth of any of it.

The carriage jolted a bit as it rolled up once more and stopped at the main drive. The footman who opened the door was a copper plated support bot. The metal work of the body made it look almost human; two arms and two legs, all finely detailed with interrogate gold patterns welded to make it look like it wore a servant’s suit. Momo stepped out, ignoring the bot’s extended hand, too nervous to focus on anything but not falling flat on her face. Her fingers twitched at her side, unsure of what to do with her hands as she looked around at all the finery surrounding her. She swallowed thickly and adjusted her waistcoat, smoothing it out before she began walking up the mall towards the imposing building before her all while surveying the grounds and guests that she passed. Men were dressed either in uniform or their finest bespoke suits while majority of the women wore colorful gowns of the latest fashion. She only saw a handful of women like her in dress uniform, and most of them were well known figures in the military and Vigilance Committee. Colored sashes and pins of office adorned almost all the guests. She spied a few who even wore the Golden Chrysanthemum; the highest Medal of Honor awarded only to those who committed great acts of heroism in defense of the Machine Society.

To say Momo felt out of place would be an understatement. As she climbed the steps and entered the building, she caught sight of the entourage that were accompanying the noble Kuchiki clan, evident by the family crest that patterned the gold sashes they all wore. She ducked her head as she quickly put as much space between her and them as she could. She didn’t belong here. Why had she been invited in the first place? With her head down, she could barely see where she was going, let alone who was in front of her as she scurried to find a place to hide until it was all over. Make herself small, be invisible; then perhaps she wouldn’t be noticed when the host made his rounds of the guests. The thought of meeting the Chairman of the Machine Society made her legs threaten to give out right under her as she finally found a spot in a corner next to a massive pot of greenery to stop. The large leaves could partially hide her from sight while still giving her a pretty good view of the people milling about and mingling around the main floor that overlooked the large ballroom.

Leaning back against the wall, she caught her breath as she took in her surroundings. Standing tables were lining the walls, with small groups of people exchanging pleasantries and gossip. Below, she could make out tables that were being held for the Shiba clan, guarded by retainers bearing the family crest, and keeping onlookers back as if the head of the clan was actually seated at the table. Momo looked away and watched the dancing taking place on the ballroom floor. The fluid movements, and turns had her sighing as she watched. For once, she wished she’d taken dance lessons instead of spending so much time preparing to join the police force. It was beautiful to watch the people dance. The flowing dresses the women wore, and the chivalrous way the men would bow and take their hands; it reminded her of the fairy tales she’d read as a child.

“You look terrible.”

Momo jumped at the voice, and turned sharply to her left in the direction of the voice. Her hand instinctively went to where her side arm was usually strapped, but faltered when her hand landed on nothing, and her eyes locked with the familiar turquoise eyes of her best friend. “Toshiro? I thought you couldn’t come to these things.”

He was dressed similarly to her but with variations that marked his affiliation with the Vigilance Committee. His coat was white with silver trim and the emblem on the collar was a silver daffodil. A silver four pronged star was pinned the left breast of the coat with the black cross of the Vigilance Committee engraved in its center. His white waistcoat was trimmed with dark green accents over a black shirt and cravat, fastened with the bronze brooch he usually wore. A dark green sash was tied around his waist over white trousers and tall black boots.

Toshiro sighed and moved to lean against the wall with her. “Commander Ukitake ordered some of us to come.” He explained, pointing down towards the ballroom floor where the commander of the Vigilance Committee could be seen seated with his two attendants standing at attention behind him as he conversed with a representative from the Machine Bureau. “We’re here to petition for more funding. More resources for research, and more personnel.”

“So, you’re here with…”

He shook his head, “No one you’d know,” He said. “My team isn’t the only special advanced task force in operation across the Machine Society.”

“I see…” She didn’t press him for more information. He likely wouldn’t tell her much anyway.

Toshiro arched his brow as he looked her over. “You really do look terrible, you know,” He said. “You look like you expect someone to try and kill you. You’re tense, uncomfortable, and you have a hunch in your back.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. Clearly your observation skills are unmatched.”

“You aren’t making it difficult to notice,” He said. “Hiding in a corner, and I’d bet you’re just waiting for the right opportunity so you can make your escape. Just try to appear at ease. It’ll make the night go by faster.”

Momo looked at how relaxed he was just standing there, leaning on the wall with his legs crossed at the ankle and his hands folded in front of him. It was clear to her that this wasn’t the first time he’d been to this sort of function, especially as he gave a familiar nod directed at a pretty lady dressed in a blue pastel gown. The girl had blushed before hurrying past with her friends giggling, making Momo scoff. “Easy to say when you’re so clearly enjoying this,” She said.

He scoffed himself, “I’d rather be shot and stabbed than be here,” He said. “I’m just better at hiding it.”

Sighing, she leaned her head back and looked up at the high molded ceiling tiles. This place was a strange mix of old and modern with gold filigree inlayed in the walls and tiles and the old chandelier that had been fitted with electric bulbs that were bright enough to cover every corner of the grand room. Not even the alcoves with their statues of the great founders and inventors of their society had an ounce of darkness to them. “How many of these have you been to?” Momo asked after a moment.

“Three,” He said.

“Are they all more or less the same?”

He shrugged, “I guess,” He said, rolling his shoulders. “I’ve never been asked to wear my uniform to one of these things before.” Momo turned to look at him. His eyes were casually moving around the various groups walking around. Occasionally she noticed eyes looking over towards them, and his response was to stand a little taller before the attention drifted away. “Uniforms make it harder to be inconspicuous. I don’t like my ties to the Vigilance Committee being on display,” He said in explanation.

Momo nodded and took a breath as she let her head bounce back on the wall behind her. “Tell me really; how bad would it be if we just ditched this thing?”

“Bad,” He said. “But that’s why they serve drinks.”

Her brow arched, “You don’t drink.”

Toshiro shrugged, “At these things, I do. But just enough to make it more tolerable,” He said. “Besides, how often does one get the chance to drink from the Chairman’s personal cellar?”

Shaking her head, Momo pushed off from the wall, “Well, since you’re such an expert, why don’t you show me how to survive the night?” She held out her arm towards him and he just stared at it for a moment. Instead of taking her offer though, he simply cocked his head in a gesture to follow as he began to walk towards the stairs down to the ballroom floor. With an amused smile, she followed, walking along side him.

He led her down towards one of the high tables situated on the edge of the dance floor. Almost immediately after laying claim to the table, a support bod rushed towards them and placed two glasses of dark red wine in front of them before disappearing back into the crowd. Momo looked around, and noticed that, with the exception of the couples on the dance floor, there wasn’t a single person down here that didn’t have a glass either in their hand or on the table in front of them.

“Support bots are spread rather thin everywhere else,” Toshiro said, swirling the wine in his glass before sipping at it slowly. “Down here, you never go more than a minute without a drink.”

“How’d you learn that trick?”

“Who do you think?” He asked sarcastically with a smirk on his lips.

Momo laughed, of course Rangiku would be the one to know. From what she knew about Toshiro’s lieutenant, she was terrible at paperwork, reliable in a fight, and an expert when it came to getting free drinks.

Trumpets sounded from the balconies above as a loud bang of the herald’s staff rang through the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up towards the large main staircase as the precession of the host and honored guests began. The first to walk down the stairs was the host of the gran affair; the Chairman of the Executive Committee: Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto. Well beyond his prime, the chairman was still an imposing figure to behold. The stories about him from the war, the uprisings, and restoration; he was a modern legend that inspired as much fear as awe in people. Beside him walked the Vice-Chairwoman, Retsu Unohana who was a powerhouse all on her own. The two walked down towards the ballroom floor and began making the rounds, greeting guests and holding short conversations as they went.

Behind them, the noble clans began their precession. The Kuchiki’s had a precession of thirty retainers, all dressed in black and purple finery so as not to distract from the head of the clan and his sister. Lord Byakuya Kuchiki wore a dark blue coat with gold accents and fringed epaulettes with a gold cord extending from his shoulder to his left breast jacket button. Beside him, walked his adopted sister, Rukia Kuchiki. She wore a dress of blue and white with a golden brooch of the Kuchiki family crest.

Momo heard Toshiro scoff beside her as he drank his glass of wine. “What?” She asked, glancing between him and the seven noble families that were making their way down the stairs.

“There’s always such a fanfare surrounding nobility,” He said, looking more bored than impressed.

“You could get in trouble for saying things like that,” Momo said.

He rolled his eyes and looked like he was about to say something, before his jaw clamped shut and his back straightened as Yamamoto and Unohana approached their table. Toshiro bowed respectfully at the leaders of the Machine Society and Momo did the same, feeling her legs tremble like she was going to lose her balance. A hand gripped the back of her jacket, subtly helping to keep her standing and pull her back upright. She cast her eye to her side, grateful that Toshiro had kept her from falling and making a scene.

“It’s good to see you again, Captain Hitsugaya,” Unohana greeted, casting a friendly smile towards Momo which was gladly returned. In her brief interactions with the Vice-Chairwoman, Momo had learned there was more to her than just the front she put up for the sake of her politics. She’d seen her willing to fight and put her life on the line for the Machine Society.

“Chairman, Vice-Chairwoman,” Toshiro returned, his hands folded behind his back as he spoke.

“Captain,” Yamamoto said, inclining his head respectfully towards Toshiro, then shifting his attention to Momo with a furrow in his brow that suggested he didn’t know who she was or why she was here.

Unohana fortunately saved the encounter and placed her hand on Momo’s. “I’m so glad you were able to make it tonight, Lieutenant Hinamori,” She said. “I read your report on the arrest of Nemu Kurotsuchi. To think we trusted their private security company for so long;” She shook her head, disappointed at the shortsightedness of her colleagues.

“Ah, yes,” Yamamoto said. “I recall that incident. The Vigilance Committee was none too pleased to know that they failed to see a threat that a mere police lieutenant put together in a few weeks.”

Momo bowed, “Thank you, sir,” She said.

“Her assistance has been invaluable these past few weeks, sir,” Toshiro added. “Without her insight, I doubt we would have been able to put down the most recent threat so soon.”

Yamamoto nodded, “I must say, overall I have been very impressed with your team’s work these past months. I assure you that the Executive Committee has taken note of your efforts.”

Toshiro bowed his head, “I’m honored by the Committee’s recognition,” He said. “Though I do hope an answer to the request we put in will—“

Yamamoto patted Toshiro on the shoulder, “—There’ll be time enough later to talk about transfers. For now, enjoy the festivities.” And with one final bow from her and Toshiro, the hosts departed, moving on to the next table.

With just the two of them standing at the table now, she looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. A transfer could mean any number of things. A new division, a new assignment, a new office; but it all amounted to about the same thing. He was leaving. Again. She felt her chest constrict at the mere thought of it, and so soon after they had gotten back on friendly terms too. Momo took a breath and pushed through the discomfort. Better to deal with it now than later. “You… you’re transferring?” She asked, “Are you sure you want to leave your team under Rangiku’s command?” She forced a smile as she tried to make light of it, but it felt unnatural even as the words left her mouth.

“Wh— No, that’s not—“ His lips pursed as his brow knit and he made a grunting sound as he cleared his throat. “I’m not transferring,” He said after he seemed to gather his thoughts.

“Then, wha—“

“— I requested a transfer for you,” He cut in. “If you want it, that is.” His eyes refused to meet hers as he focused his attention towards the tables that the Shiba clan were seated at.

Momo was speechless as she let his words sink in. “You… you want me?”

He sighed and scratched at the back of his neck, “I wasn’t going to tell you until I knew it would be approved, but Yamamoto…” He shook his head, “Besides, Unohana said it was almost a certainty, just… a backlog of paperwork to get through. Bureaucracy and all that.”

“But… you… want me on your team?” She had to ask again.

Toshiro took a breath and forced himself to look at her. “Everyone is rather fond of you. You’re diligent, insightful and work well under pressure. Besides, it’ll be good to have someone else who actually does their own paperwork.” The corner of his lips rose in a small smile, “So, in answer to your question; yes. I do want you on my team.”

[darkroguescribe]

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 2: Sunset/ Homecoming

Rating: K

Summary: Hitsugaya and Hinamori return to Junrinan on their day off.

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

He was late. Toshiro cursed as he finished off the report and placed it on his lieutenant’s desk, hoping she would at the very least be able to deliver them to the First Division by the end of the day though, he had his doubts she would even turn up today. The moment he’d put in his notice that he was taking the day off, Matsumoto had secretly begun planning a party that was to start this afternoon. He probably wouldn’t have even known about the party if he hadn’t overheard about it from a group of new recruits who were still adjusting to the division. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed as he debated between delivering the paperwork himself, or hoping that his third seat might stop by and make sure things are in order before the party started. A glance at the clock made the choice easy as he cursed and shunpoed as fast as he could towards the Western Gate.

Momo was already there waiting, dressed in a casual floral kimono, her hair tied back with an elegant chignon with a few wispy strands escaping. The sight of her nearly made him trip over his feet as he came to a stop a few feet away from her. It had been awhile since the two of them had a whole day to spend together and even longer since he’d seen her wearing anything other than the standard uniform. She smiled at him as he walked to meet her.

“What took you so long?” She asked, reaching out and straitening the collar of the navy kimono he wore. “Don’t tell me you were working.”

Toshiro sighed, “It couldn’t be helped,” He said. “There was an incident last night between some men from my division and the Sixth.”

“And I take it Rangiku wasn’t available to do the write-up this morning?”

He snorted in response, and she rolled her eyes, always finding amusement in how a workaholic like him is able to work so well with a champion slacker.

“Well, you’re here now,” She said, leaning up to kiss him lightly before looping her arm through his. “And I’m not letting you set foot in that office again for the rest of the day.”Smiling, they began to walk to the only other place they had ever called home.

The dusty roads of Junrinan had changed much over the years. The war with the Quincy a few decades ago had caused immense damage that had taken years for the Rukongai Districts to fully recover from. But in these years of peace, the streets had finally returned to the way He and Momo remembered from their childhood. Familiar faces passed by them in the market as they searched for the largest watermelons they could find. The residents kept their distance for the most part, well aware of what they were despite their casual dress. Toshiro felt Momo’s excitement as they spotted her old friends Tatukichi and Ayumi, their arms laden with their purchases.

Momo pulled away from him as she reunited with their old neighbors while he hung back, watching from a comfortable distance as they exchanged pleasantries and news. Every few moments he noticed them glancing his way but he ignored their nervous looks and averted his eyes as he waited for Momo. Her friends were still wary of him, looking at him as though he would lash out at any moment. Ridiculous.

After the three of them finished their goodbyes, Momo returned to his side and they continued on their way.

“I’m sorry about them,” She said after the others had left.

“Don’t be,” He said, his pace quickening slightly when he spied a watermelon vendor at the corner of the intersection. “They’ve never really liked me to begin with, so I don’t really mind.”

Momo sighed, “I know, But I wish they could see even just a little bit of what I can see, you know?” She said as he brought them to a stop in front of the melon cart.

He felt his stomach rumble as he hovered over the stand, trying to decide which watermelon looked the largest first. He settled on a long one, turning it over in his hands, searching for the yellow-green spot that would be his first indicator of ripeness. He didn’t find it, so put the melon down and picked another one up. “I’m glad they can’t,” He said, never taking his eyes off the fruit as he held it up to his ear, lightly knocking on it, and smiling when he heard the desired deep hollow sound.

“The way I am with you is… different than the way I am with anyone else. It’s…” Toshiro paused, lips pursed as he looked up in thought. It was difficult to put into words how he is with her. No word seemed to be able to convey the depth of the feelings they shared and the inexplainable bond that had been forged and welded them together. Perhaps there isn’t a good word. “It’s personal,” He eventually settled on saying, passing her the watermelon he selected to hold while he searched for another of equal size and ripeness.

After paying for the watermelons, they each carried one as they made their way through the district towards the small house that had been their first real home. Situated at the top of the hill, Toshiro smiled as beloved childhood memories returned to him in great detail. The fence along the walkway was where he had found a nest of rabbits that he and Momo had watched every day for an entire summer. The field to the north was where the two of them would spend lazy afternoons making up shapes in the clouds, or run around playing whatever silly game she came up with. The tall tree right next to the house was the same one that the two of them would climb to see who could get the highest. For a long time, Momo had always won; being taller than him had given her the advantage that had often peeved him. He remembered once trying to jump for a handhold well outside his reach and then falling, landing hard enough to fracture his left leg. Looking up at the tree now, he smirked. He could reach the top with a single jump if he used shunpo.

The house had fortunately been one of the lucky residences that had remained untouched during the Quincy War. Once it was confirmed that Yhawach had been defeated and that the invading army had been neutralized, Toshiro had taken the first chance he had to check in on Junrinan and his Granny. The chaos of war had sent the residence of the Rukongai in a panic that had given courage to otherwise craven criminals who now used the lack of security as permission to do as they pleased. Junrinan hadn’t been hit by the crime as much as other districts, but they had still suffered from the shockwaves of it all. Granny had not only handled it well for herself, but had taken a small leadership role in the community. She’d offered her home for children of refugees fleeing from the greater effected districts, and had donated her time and food to help care for the people she could. It made him proud to be able to call her his Granny.

Climbing the hill, the two of them spotted the old woman kneeling in her garden, tending to beloved flowers; daffodils and lillies of the valley. She had planted them the week after they had graduated and joined their respective divisions, taking pride in their achievements and boasting to anyone who would listen. Momo quickened her pace, jogging the rest of the way eagerly. “Granny!” She called, putting the watermelon on the ground and leaping the fence to get to her quickly.

The old woman was slow to stand, and Momo extended her hands to help, holding her tightly as she got her feet under her before embracing her in a tight hug. Granny cupped Momo’s cheeks in her hands, looking her over, and fussing over the strand of hair that escaped the loose chignon she had tied her black hair in. “It’s not long enough yet, Granny,” Momo laughed, tugging on the hair to show her.

She frowned, tucking it behind her ear, “Suppose it can’t be helped then, dear,” Granny leaned up and kissed Momo on the forehead as Toshiro joined them. He’d left his own melon outside with Momo’s and rather than jumping the fence like her, used the gate. “Now, let me get a look at my grandson.”

His eyes rolled as he leaned down to let her hold his face, grunting as she tried to pat down his hair, tsk-ing as the unruly hair refused to obey. He heard Momo giggle beside him, and he shot her a look, “Shut up.”

Granny slapped his arm, “That’s no way to talk to her, Toshiro, apologize. Now,” She scolded. Standing back to his full height, he rolled his eyes, huffing out air that gently lifted his bangs. “I know I taught you manners.”

Momo continued to giggle and he grunted, grumbling under his breath, “She started it.”

Granny smacked him again, “Apologize.”

Momo decided then to step in, “It’s okay, Granny,” She said, moving closer to him and patting his chest lightly. “You know how he is. I don’t mind.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He felt his body relax instantly, the corner of his lips curling, immensely pleased by the small show of affection.

“Very well, dear,” Granny said, “Why don’t you two go inside,” She suggested. “I’m just finishing up here—“

“—I can do that for you,” Momo interjected. “You just want some flowers for inside, right?” The old woman nodded. “Just put a vase out then. I’ll pick the best ones for you.”

Granny thought about it for a moment, but with encouragement from both of them, she complied, letting Toshiro help her inside before he went back out to bring the watermelons in. Placing them on the counter, he stood and looked out through the kitchen window. From where he stood, he could see Momo kneeling in the garden carefully cutting the stems of the flowers and placing them in Granny’s basket, gently arranging them as she had been taught in the ikebana club.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts as he turned to see Granny smiling beside him. She held out the small white box he had left for her to watch several weeks ago. Swallowing thickly, he took the box and opened it. The ring inside was simple in design with a diamond that glistened like melting ice; white with hints of pale blue that were more apparent under a certain light.

He’d dabbled with the idea of proposing a long time ago when the idea of being with Momo was simply a pleasant dream that he doubted would ever happen. Content to put his feelings for her aside in favor of of her own happiness; he never dreamed that the day would come that he’d get the courage to kiss her, let along that she’d kiss him back. But even once they were together, he never thought about marriage until that rainy day in the world of the living.

Rangiku had been sent on a simple mission that should have only taken a day to complete but, as he should have expected, had gotten distracted and thus fallen behind. Angry, and with her no longer answering the phone; he’d gone down there to lecture her and make sure she didn’t half-ass the rest of the job. But with no idea where she was, and the rain coming down in sheets, it had made the search for his lieutenant a frustrating ordeal. He ended up wandering down High Street in the city centre where he found himself standing in front of a jewelry store looking at the ring displays brightly illuminated in the window. That was when those long dormant dreams came back to him in full force. He could see it. He could see her. He saw her standing next to him, his ring on her finger, and hers on his. It thrilled him about as much as it terrified him, yet he still found himself walking through the doors, looking at the rings, and then leaving with one secured in the white box he now held in his hands.

Granny placed her hand over his holding the box, pulling him back to the present. She squeezed his hand gently and smiled up at him. Her other hand cupped his cheek affectionately, and he bent low so she could kiss his forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Toshiro,” She said, pulling back enough so that he could see her face. “I just know she’s going to love it.” He couldn’t say anything, and simply nodded before closing the box and tucking it safely away inside his robe just as Momo came inside, the basket of flowers hanging from her arm and a bright smile on her face that warmed him to his very core.

———

The simplicity of the day was exactly what the two of them had needed after weeks of being bogged down by work. Whenever they returned to Junrinan, Granny had one simple rule that they were to follow; no talking about work. For a few brief hours, they existed in a simpler world where hollows and paperwork were far from their thoughts and worries. Instead, they indulged in sharing bits of gossip that was swimming around, and recounting stories that were joyful and sometimes humorous over a simple lunch of yakitori and onigiri. Momo had brought with her the most recent edition of the Sereitei Bulletin, sharing with Granny the photos from the Kuchiki garden party that had taken place two weeks ago. Kuchiki had spared no expense on the lavish party had been the highlight of the month. The sakura trees were in bloom, and ponds freshly stocked with koi and the tea and food were the very best money could buy. Toshiro had even been asked to contribute a few sculptures to the event to commemorate not just the start of spring, but also the end of winter.

“You should have seen it, Granny,” Momo gushed, pointing at the picture of Captain Kuchiki giving a toast. He stood between four trees; two of ice and two of his own blooming sakura trees. The contrast of the bright pink petals and the glimmer of pale blue ice, made it look like something out of a fairytale. “The sculptures were even more beautiful in person. I swear, they looked even better than the real ones.”

Toshiro rolled his eyes, but remained quiet. In truth, they were far from his best work. He was a bit out of practice sculpting having only recently gotten back into the hobby. And with Kuchiki being rather particular about what he wanted, it hadn’t really left him much room to make it how he wanted. Evidently, none of that really mattered. Everyone seemed to like them, but their opinions were inconsequential to him.

Toshiro felt his lips curl at the memory of their arrival at the party. His sculptures were scattered around the Kuchiki Manor grounds, all the pieces varied in size but all had something to do with nature. Of all the sculptures he’d made, there were a total of fifteen sakura trees scattered among the living trees, small crystalline birds that adorned the pillars supporting the sheer awnings, and two giant koi sculptures near the pond and fountain. Momo had gripped his arm tightly, taken aback as she beheld the results of his work. So long as she was pleased with them, it didn’t matter if the sculptures were too blocky in places, or the scale was off.

As the afternoon grew late, but not late enough for dinner yet, Granny suggested it was time to make use of the watermelons they had brought. Neither of them could refuse the lure of their favorite treat and Toshiro offered to cut them up while they made themselves comfortable outside on the porch. He could hear the two of them laughing and making small jokes at his expense, which he ignored for once, preferring to focus on making sure that he cut the wedges into (mostly) equal sections for him and Momo and a smaller piece for Granny since she didn’t eat nearly as much as the two of them.

It was quiet between the three of them as they ate, and recounted stories from decades ago. Fond memories shared in this little house that had them all smiling or laughing. After a while, Granny decided it was time to start on dinner. Momo had offered their help in the kitchen, but was declined with a weak excuse about exercise and this being their day off.

The sky burned orange above the distant hilltops as Momo rested her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his knee while his arm was wrapped securely around her back. Toshiro glanced down at her and felt his pulse quicken as he took in how the light seemed to halo her head. The beat of his heart was deafening as he realized the perfection of this moment. His mind battled with his heart as fight or flight seemed to kick in. It was now or never; yet despite having played the moment in his head over and over again, meticulously picked the words he would say, when he would say them, and what he would do; he was drawing a blank. His body was stiff, and he felt beads of perspiration on his brow, and his hands go clammy.

Now or never.

Toshiro took her hand in his, squeezing lightly as he brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing each one lightly. She turned her head and smiled up at him, and he felt himself relax a little, sighing as he kissed her palm and let her hand go. His fingers trembled as he reached into his robe and shifted his body towards her, waiting for her to do the same before he pulled out the small white box and gently placed it in her palm.

Her eyes were wide as she looked at the box and watched as he flipped the top open with his thumb. His jaw opened and closed with no words leaving his lips; the carefully planned words were truly lost forever in the fog his mind had entered. Still, he had to say something. Anything.

“You were probably the most annoying person when we first met,” He said, the words being the first that came to mind. “But… your persistence eventually made you one of the most important people in my life. Everything I am, everything I hope to be is because of you.” Words started to come easier to him as his breathing seemed to settle, though his heart still raced. “And all I want is to spend every day for the rest of my life by your side.” Toshiro took a breath, reaching out to tuck a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, his lips curling into a small smile that was for her alone. “Momo Hinamori, will you marry me?” He bit the inside of his cheek, worrying as he noticed the tears welling in her eyes and felt her hand tremble in his.

“Yes,” Her voice was a small whisper, “Yes, of course.” Smiling, grabbed him by the front of his robe and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

[canariie]

For your reblogs milestone requests (congratulations!!) If this pings you, I'd love to see Hitsugaya + Hinamori + CAMPING. Good trip, bad trip, planned, unplanned, business, pleasure... Any kind of camping and any kind of tone!

how to start a fire

Rating: K+

“Hinamori, you’re imagining things—go to sleep.”

“I am not,” she hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She was still bitter about their squabble. “I know there’s something out there.” She turned to her backpack, fumbling around in the dark as she searched for the flashlight. “Did you read the information pack that Hisagi-san had sent? Apparently, this used to be a habitat for bears.”

“Yes, and I read the amended version Ise-fuukutaicho sent—the local bear population has become endangered. The only thing we’re in danger of is losing our sleep,” he grumbled.

…

Momo is sent to train Toushiro in the World of the Living in combination kido.

Word Count: 3670 words

Setting: after the Bleach Anniversary Hell Chapter

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week Gift Exchange 2023 for @whipplefilter

"maybe we didn't argue, but we don't agree"/ "Hitsugaya asks Hinamori to teach him her kidou-weaving"/"HitsuHina from unexpected/outside POVs"

Authour’s Note: This is SO LATE IN ALL THE SENSES. Firstly, because Whipple sent this request in like, summer. And then I was matched with them for the Gift Exchange which I thought I could make! but holidays! & falling sick! (are we really ever as productive as we would like over the holidays??)

(Thank you @rays-of-fire-and-ice for being understanding!)

When I saw the prompts that Whipple sent, I immediately thought of their initial fic request & thought it was such a perfect thing to combine! Unfortunately, I couldn't get in the Hitsuhina from an outside POV but maybe one day in the future!

I had a lot of fun trying to flesh this out and was really happy to go back to writing after so long! However, I believe much like the rest of the fandom, life is going to get busy in the coming months for me and I won't be as active in writing as I would like to :( I hope to still participate in events but it does really inspire me reading everyone's work when I come back to try to write on my own!!

Happy New Year everyone! Here's hoping 2024 is one with happiness and laughter and fun for everyone!!

I hope you all enjoy this!

---

Momo dropped her duffel bag and began to rummage around it, pushing overnight clothes and toiletries aside. “Here’s a clearing: we can proceed here.”

Toushiro looked around skeptically, noting the abandoned fire pits and wooden pavilions in the distance. “Won’t we be disturbing the humans?”

“Soutaicho had reserved the whole camping ground area while the Twelfth Division set up a barrier that would send any human that would walk towards the training facilities, confused but turned around.” She swallowed the gikon pill, feeling her human body leave her as if she were shedding a coat off.

The tenth captain raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t the Kido Corps have facilitated that?”

Momo shrugged, though she admitted she wondered about the ethics of the research division sometimes. “All the training leaders were assured that they wouldn’t be harmed. Nanao-san also reiterated that each cell would be allocated a parcel of the forest—so we don’t have to worry about anyone else while we train.”

With the new frontier of Hell on the line, the Gotei 13 were implementing new training tactics to prepare for the unknown battle. Each division had received a list of candidates for leaders of the cell groups—specific internal training groups to provide targeted instruction on skills soldiers may find lacking. Momo had been selected from the Fifth Division to lead high level kido proficiency, specifically on combination spells. The leaders ranged in rank, from captains to lieutenants and even high ranked seated officers. She had heard later from Matsumoto, Ikkaku had been selected to lead swordsmanship skills, Isane for healing during combat, a fourth seat in the eighth division for defensive spells among many. The cell groups would then be volunteers from across the Gotei 13 that would train with the leaders in World of the Living on a reserved human camping site.

Momo had been flattered (even when her captain had bemoaned jokingly why he hadn’t been picked) but was also left feeling disconcerted at the letter.

A few weeks ago, there was an expedition team sent out earlier to understand the spells and mechanisms that opened Hell’s Doors as well as scope its initial terrain. The list was short and concise with only a few captains and lieutenants selected. Renjii & Rukia were on the list as they had already prior experience in the hellscape. Momo had been keen to go, as she heard her name was nominated by Rukia to help with kido to break down the entrance. However, the day before the mission, her name was taken off the list with a curt note saying that her kido services would no longer be required. During the prior lieutenant’s meeting Renjii looked at her with a regretful glance, squeezing her shoulder sympathetically and she later received an apology Hell Butterfly from the Thirteen Captain before the expedition team left.

Momo had walked back to the Fifth Division in a daze, feeling a bit bereft at the sudden change in plans. The shock must have been evident on her face as her captain immediately took one look at her before bringing her to the couch and placing a warm cup of tea in her hands.

“Hitsugaya-taicho seems to have requested you for your first training session.”

“Why?” Momo asked. She had been reviewing the list of volunteers who wanted to train with her and was surprised at the number of people. If she were to spend time with each one, she would have to remain in the World of the Living for at least a month.

However, she had not seen Toushiro’s name on her initial list—much less expected him to volunteer. The tenth captain was quick on his feet in battle and she never assumed his skills were lacking.

Hirako-taicho shrugged. “Maybe he wants a brush up as well? I know he had gone on the Hell Expedition Team & him and the little Kuchiki realized there was some reworking off spells to be done.”

That got Momo to pause as she was sorting through the files. It had been a couple of weeks since the team had returned from Hell. “Hitsugaya-taicho had joined the expedition?” As far as she knew, he was never a candidate for the expedition, and he hadn’t mentioned anything like that to her.

Her captain stilled, his eyes avoiding her questioning look. “I believe he was the last-minute change…”

“Hirako-taicho—why did Hitsugaya-kun go on the expedition?”

He sighed in quiet exasperation. “I heard from Abarai that Hitsugaya-taicho requested you off the mission,” he said reluctantly. “And when there was no other candidate to go, he volunteered himself.”

“And why would he do that?” she asked quietly, still processing what she had heard.

Hirako shook his head, his bangs falling away from his eyes. “He never brought it up at the captain’s meeting. He went directly to the Soutaicho & the expedition team.”

The news sat with Momo as she prepared her training plan and packed her bags to go the World of the Living. The unease festered inside of her, leaving her with feelings of self-doubt and anxiety. She found herself unable to sleep well and only when she stepped onto the campgrounds and breathed in the fresh air, could she feel the tension loosening in her shoulder.

Momo had an earlier departure time and was preparing the grounds when the Tenth Captain dropped in, much later in the evening when the sky was hedging into dusk. It had been the first time they had seen each other in a long while, and Momo was still feeling unsettled—so introductions were short, and she immediately led him to the training area where she was now beginning a demonstration. If the boy noticed anything unusual, he made no comment and followed suit.

Momo slipped into teaching mode, something she had learned while part-timing at the academy to help compartmentalize her life as a lecturer separate from a lieutenant.

“We’ll start off with one of my prior combination spells in battle: from during the Winter War era when Rangiku-san and I had to fight the three arrancars.” She avoided looking at Toushiro for she knew much after the fact that he hadn’t approved of her coming onto the battlefield—which apparently, things still hadn’t changed between them. “Let me show you first.”

The girl lifted her hands in front of her, demonstrating as she spoke. “The strength of the spell also comes from the foundation of the pose. I know after we graduate and go into battle, it’s very easy to skip this step as we’ve become comfortable with the incantations.” She moved her hands as if they were framing a triangle. “However, as we introduce combination spells, I find that there’s strength in using combative stances with defensive spells and vice versa.”

Her student nodded along, with a furrow in his eyebrows that Momo knew he was mentally taking notes.

“It started off with Hadou 12 Fuishibi: I had used it as a defensive base before obscuring it with a concealment spell.”

“That was Kyokou, right?” Toushiro piped in.

She nodded in affirmation. “Yes—that was the key to catching the arrancar off. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to blindside them in the initial attack.”

Toushiro’s eyebrow raised slowly, almost as if he were impressed if Momo had to guess. “That’s quite commendable that you were able to weave that many kidou together—especially for your first time.”

Momo had to stop herself from reacting openly to that. She hadn’t remembered telling him that it was her first attempt, a decision crossed in between luck and adrenaline. However, she had a lot to prove—and evidently, there were still people that doubted her.

“However, the key is finding the right igniting spell: Shakaho is a common one and it doesn’t matter how proficient you are in kidou—it’ll still give you the right amount of power you need.”

She beckoned with her head, her arms still held in front of her in stance. “You can follow me for now and then we can try separately on our own, Hitsugaya-taicho.”

When he mirrored suit, she started reciting the incantations—pausing in between lines to explain the steps.

“You start trying to imagine a series of lines, crossing each other. Imagine the intersection and focus on that. Personally, for me, it helps to visualize the centers becoming brighter to build a stronger net.”

“Like Bakudo #4, Hainawa?”

Momo winced, sensing the kidou web pull away from her. “Not really. It’s the foundation—it’s not the main goal. You’re setting up trajectory for the blast to follow.”

“Is it necessary to recite the full spell?”

“Sort of—I find it helpful to not focus fully on the incantation but instead what it represents. Breaks down the rigidity of the tradition and make it more malleable in combining different spells.”

“How do you control the scale of the net?”

“It’s all in the visualization—you need to imagine it,” she responded quickly as she felt herself faltering. The net grew dimmer and wilted, like a flower causing Momo to repeat the previous line again. She wasn’t used to being interrupted so often.

“When do you switch hand positions?”

“Hold on Hitsugaya—”, Momo could feel the net pull away from her like a storm wind catching hold of a kite. She proceeded forward and, in her haste, she skipped two lines ahead in the incantation.   

The effects were immediate with the strings of the net burning brighter and brighter. Momo faltered, immediately stopping the incantation but it was too late. The net hummed in power before it exploded, sending sparks back at the shinigami & the wooden structures.

Momo could only watch as Toushiro immediately called a cool wind forth to snuff out the embers, leaving just a sizzling trail of smoke as the remains of the misspell.

“I think we better call it for the night,” he said with a measured tone, evaluating the scene.

The slip back into their gigai was so quiet and routine that even the shift of corporeal bodies couldn’t cut the thick tension between the two. The moon was hanging high & alone by the time they had returned silently back to their campsite.

Momo immediately started collecting broken branches and twigs to start the fire. She kept her head down, repeating the recent events in her head over and over. Even though Toushiro had been peppering her with questions, she knew she was accustomed to that from teaching new recruits—and inwardly Momo knew that it was her earlier feelings towards the young captain that made her mess up the incantation. There was a strong part of her that was ashamed for getting her emotions get in the way of teaching—something she had promised herself she would learn to keep professional and private matters separate.

Momo sighed deeply, walking back to their clearing, and dumping the wood into the firepit. As she rearranged the pieces into a tented position, she could feel Toushiro’s eyes on her—much like earlier, observing quietly and learning.

“It’s to help structure the flame,” she explained quietly. Momo pulled some newspapers she had brought with her and began shredding them over the pit.

“How do you know how to do this?”

“Hirako-taicho and I went on camping trips as a way to get to know each other when we first started working together. The other Vizards would also join us as well.”

Toushiro rolled his eyes. “It still amazes me how he can circumvent rules to do it.” It was an offhand comment, nothing out of the ordinary for the young captain. However, at that moment it deeply grated at her nerves, and it struck raw.

Momo snapped a branch in her hand. “Hirako-taicho completes his work as necessary. He also doesn’t cross the line—unlike you Hitsugaya-taicho.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Hinamori?”

“You pulled rank and took me off the Hell expedition,” she said curtly, yanking out the matchstick box from her pocket and snapping the match strong against the box.

There was a pause where Momo could only hear the friction of the match. “You’re not ready,” Toushiro said carefully, as if he were approaching a skittish creature. “There are far too many unknowns, and the risk is too great.”

“You had no business deciding to do so.” The match didn’t catch, and Momo cursed under her breath as she flicked it to the ground. She pulled another one out and began again.

“Other lieutenants were pulled off as well, it came down to essential personnel only.”

“No, Hitsugaya-taicho, you are a captain of the Tenth Division and were overstepping your bounds. Kuchiki-san had requested me on that mission for my skills and you decided to pull me off.”

The match ignited brightly in her hands. Momo dropped it into the pile of wood where it immediately spurred into large flames. She looked up to see the fire reflecting in his turquoise eyes, resolute.

“If I had to do it again, I would,” he said solemnly, holding his ground across the fire from her.

“Well that’s the difference between us, Hitsugaya-taicho—I would be honest with someone if I didn’t think they were good enough.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he sighed.

Momo straightened her shoulders back and stared firmly back at him through the flames. “I am a lieutenant of the Fifth Division, I have earned my way to serve the Gotei 13—whether you like it or not.”  

--

Dinner was a quiet tense affair with the two of them eating their packed meals quite far and separated from each other. Momo had already started to feel awful from such negative feelings, but on principle she held her ground, quickly scarfing down her onigiri.

They had changed in silence to their sleeping clothes, each taking turns to watch shift before tucking into their respective sleeping bags across the fire pit. In the absence of a “good night,” Momo felt remorse, and found herself consciously holding back from asking if Toushiro was awake.

When they were younger, they’d climb up onto the thatched roofs to stargaze during the night. The hay would itch at bare skin and it would always take the two of them a while to get settled, but when they had found their spots, it was like the world quieted again and they lost themselves in counting the constellations. Sometimes she would speak and Toushiro would respond, in either one sentence responses or noises of affirmation—but always honest. And when it became too quiet to speak, the two would just lie in silence. It was those peaceful moments that would ground Momo whenever she was away studying in the academy; where it felt like possibilities were endless, but home was right behind her, keeping her grounded and safe.

But that felt like a different lifetime with too much death in between to tie them to the same life.

A loud rustle startled Momo from her stupor.

She pushed herself up off the ground. “Did you hear that?”

There was another sound, a creak.

“Hitsugaya-kun,” Momo called out, a twinge of fear creeping into her voice.

“I’m trying to sleep,” he groused.

She persisted, sitting up and listening carefully. The fire crackled and hissed, and Momo strained to hear through the crackle of the fire. Internally she felt at lost without being able to detect the rieatsu of whatever was out there.

“Hinamori, you’re imagining things—go to sleep.”

“I am not,” she hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She was still bitter about their squabble. “I know there’s something out there.” She turned to her backpack, fumbling around in the dark as she searched for the flashlight. “Did you read the information pack that Hisagi-san had sent? Apparently, this used to be a habitat for bears.”

“Yes, and I read the amended version Ise-fuukutaicho sent—the local bear population has become endangered. The only thing we’re in danger of is losing our sleep,” he grumbled.

“I forgot how grumpy you get when you don’t get your sleep,” Momo murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

A rustle was heard and Toushiro shot up, his eyes much alert. “I think there’s something approaching.”

Momo fought the urge to roll her eyes as she fished out the flashlight. “That’s what I was saying.”

A twig broke and immediately Toushiro slipped a gikon pill in, his human body falling back onto the sleeping bag.

“I’m not going to use Hyourinmaru—the weather changes will alert the humans nearby.”

Momo rustled through her duffle bag, pulling things out rapidly. “I can’t find my gikon pills—I must have left them at the training site.”

Toushiro stepped in front of her sleeping bag, his stance defensive as he mimicked Momo’s earlier pose from the training session. “I’ll handle it. I’ll use the kido weaving to stop whatever it is in its tracks.”

That got Momo to pause. “Wait, Hitsugaya-kun—I’m not sure if you’re ready.”

He started to chant, slow and steady as the noise picked up. Momo could only focus on her heart racing that she almost missed the slip of incantation: Toushiro had skipped a line—a very crucial line.

“Hitsugaya-kun—you forgot—”

The threads burned amber, casting a bright glow against the surrounding boundary of trees before they began to constrict against themselves. The woven net grew and expanded, closing in around the two of them instead of pushing outward. Toushiro realizing his error, quickly turned around and crouched over Momo as the net imploded into great sparks, rivaling a fireworks show.

The rustling noise got louder and two of them could only look up as the bush rumbled and rustled—before a bunny slipped out. It stared comically at the two of them, cocking its head to the side before hoping through the campgrounds as the two childhood friends watched.

A bubble of laughter escaped from Momo’s mouth which earned her an exasperated look from her friend above her. Toushiro’s hair was mussed with grey soot streaking the spiky edges; he looked like the human confection of a burnt marshmallow—which made Momo laugh even harder.

“This isn’t funny,” he grumbled, swiping away at his face with soot coming off.

“It kind of is,” she continued to laugh. “I’m sure when you get back into your gigai, it’ll go away.”

Whatever previous tension that was there before, disappeared and now there was a lightness as the two young shinigami cleaned up the area. The campfire that had been blazing strong before had calmed down to a dying ember, its small spark still burning bright against the night.

Momo cleared her throat, sheepishly looking down. “Would you mind if we pull these closer?” she gestured towards the distanced sleeping bags.

Toushiro shook his head. “No, not at all.”

After rearranging the bags, the two settled in quietly, lying on their backs and looking up at the stars. Momo sighed in content, feeling a lot more at peace than before but still wanted to clear the air about one more thing.

“Hitsugaya-kun,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you today.”

There was a long pause and she had wondered if he had heard her. “I deserved it. I apologize for not being transparent with you.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “The great Hitsugaya-taicho is apologizing to me?”

“Oh, shut it.” Even though it was dark, she could hear the eyeroll in his voice. “And I’ve done it before,” he added softly.

“I know.” Momo remembered it well, especially after the Winter War. “But those for things that were out of your control. This is for something you deliberately did.”

The young girl heard him sigh deeply. “It’s something I’m working on,” he conceded.

“Rangiku-san put you up to it?”

“Something like that…” he drifted off.

“Well…” Momo tucked the blanket around her tighter her shoulders. “Thank you.”

When he didn’t say anything back, she continued on, speaking softly. “You need to trust me—I understand you’re worried, but you can’t go around making decisions on my behalf without talking to me.” She turned onto her side and faced him. “I can take care of myself, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He sighed. “I know you can—I don’t doubt it at all.”

“Then what makes this different?” Momo whispered.

Toushiro was silent for a while before turning to her. “It’s what we don’t know—everything we’ve been taught feels…upended.” He grimaced & even in the dark she could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “Ukitake-taicho, the Soutaicho…they’re all there now. It feels like the rules have changed and things are out of control.”

Momo smiled sympathetically before reaching a hand across, and gently placing it on his shoulder. “I know. I’m scared too. I’m scared for everyone at the Fifth, for Hirako-taicho, Rangiku-san.” She paused and stared into his eyes. “I’m also scared for you.”

His eyes widened slowly. “Hinamori…”

“But I won’t let that stop me from wanting to protect everyone—to protect you.” She squeezed his shoulder. “That’s why I became a shinigami, right?”

Momo could sense his inner storm abating and smiled in relief. “So—trust me, okay? Like I trust you to stay safe.”

He sighed deeply and stared back at her. “Okay—I will try.”

She chuckled quietly. “That’s all I ask.”

Momo let her hand fall in the space between them. “Now let’s go to sleep. We still have to finish training tomorrow. I can’t send you back not knowing how to do one combination spell.”

“This will definitely be an experience I will never forget,” he said softly.

She smiled, her eyes already closing shut. “Good night, Hitsugaya-kun.”

Sometime during the night, Momo felt her hand being pulled, and held tight. That even if they drifted in dreams under the stars, she was grounded and safe, held tight to home.

---

Authour's Note: Again, this happens late at night because I am a sucker for late night conversations. I had a lot of fun trying to write Momo's teaching methods for the kido (as if I know anything lol) I also just love that something doesn't go splendidly well for Toushiro (though I wish there were more people to witness it hahahaha)

Until next time everyone :)

[bleachbleachbleach]

Fic: 4 a.m. bloom

[Read on AO3]

Characters: Hinamori (POV), Hitsugaya Timeline: 4 months into Hinamori's vice-captaincy Word Count: ~6700 Tags: Pre-series, Rukongai, Junrinan lore, Shinigami/zanpakutou bond, I will continue to reify condor!Tobiume at every opportunity, Eldercare, For the sake of soul society, Gotei melancholia Notes: Written for @pinkhairedlily for the 2023 @hitsuhina-week Gift Exchange, combining the prompts “hinamori embracing leadership roles in her division” and “momo character study with a sprinkle of toshiro”! <3 (Though there are probably at least 4 tablespoons of Hitsugaya in this, rather than a spinkle.) I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Another homecoming. Hinamori recognizes that lieutenancy is more a beginning than an achievement, but some missions make that clearer than others. Tobiume is blooming, Hinamori has work to do in Junrinan, and Hitsugaya has some difficult questions for her.

Hitsugaya is a difficult question.

--

“I miss this,” she says, even though she hadn’t meant to. Then she has to ask, “Do you?”

“I don’t live here anymore, either,” Hitsugaya says.

Hinamori does not know whether that means of course or stop.