#well post tybw again

[cspcrashing]

☠️: the fuck you smiling at.

🍓: oh what, i can't smile now ?

☠️ : yeah, you can't. cut it out.

🍓: i can't just stop ! have you ever tried smiling ? it would—

☠️: you finish that thought, i'll take your eye out kurosaki.

🍓: .... :)

☠️: tch. happy bastard

[torawro]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[short-yandere-stories]

Can you please do a yandere kenpachi zaraki x reader pretty please 🥺🙏

Of course! Big strong scary man but softie inside makes my brain go wild. I have another request for him in the inbox, so have this softer one first, and I'll go a little more crazy with the other one later :>

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

CW: yandere behavior, takes place post TYBW so spoiler warning, slight infantilization, unhealthy dependence, possessiveness, mentions of fighting, mentions of being severely injured

This is a yandere work. Proceed with caution and please be mindful of your triggers.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

✧ Kenpachi is not used to nice things. Ever since he was a kid, violence and fighting was all he knew.

✧ So, naturally, at first, he has no idea how he's supposed to treat the newcomer who personality-wise definitely does not fit into the 11th squad.

✧ Of course, no one whose fighting abilities are not personally accepted by Kenpachi has no chance of joining his ranks.

✧ You barely know how you managed to impress him, in all sincerity. You were far from as strong as he was, but he must have sensed something about your abilities that made him accept you.

✧ Your persistence had been admirable too, Kenpachi had to begrudgingly admit. None of the other guard courts had been of any interest to you. You'd had your eyes on the 11th squad, and that was the one you were going to become a part of.

✧ Kenpachi Zaraki's squad is full of people who seem to have next to nothing in common, so in a weird way, you fit right in.

✧ At first, Kenpachi didn't pay it much mind. You weren't a seated officer and wasn't brought along on too many missions, but you were always looking after the others upon their return.

✧ He joked that you'd fit in better in squad 4 with the healers, and the venomous glare you'd sent him had been laced with so much fire that he immediately fell quiet in shock.

✧ I consider this to take place after Kenpachi properly learns about Yachiru and she disappears.

✧ Your kindness is not a trait Yachiru had, but your positivity reminds him of her.

✧ Slowly, he finds himself seeking out your company more and more frequently, even going so far as to not take fights seriously at all or force his spiritual power down enough to be cut, just so you can be the one to patch him back up.

✧ You're surprisingly good at handling his temper and making him calm down as well, which the rest of your squadmates are quick to pick up on, dragging you along whenever they had to deliver unfortunate news that would make Kenpachi's anger flare up.

✧ In next to no time, Kenpachi has given you an unofficial seat of sorts, making sure that keeps you close to him at all times. It makes the loss of Yachiru's physical form easier to bear as well.

✧ The squad had filled you in about the last Lieutenant, and you felt your heart ache for the sake of your captain every time he looked over his shoulder with a grin to shoot a few words to the little pink-haired girl who usually sat on his back or shoulder, only to have his face fall.

✧ I believe that he would be pretty normal at first, that is until you are severely injured at the hands of a few hollows on a mission that he'd selfishly brought you along on. One moment of Kenpachi being occupied had been enough for an attack to reach.

✧ When you woke up, bandaged and in pain, but alive, in the barracks of squad four a few days later, the first thing you saw was the captain sitting next to you. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink while you'd been unconscious.

✧ The relief on his face once his eyes met yours was immense. "Don't do that again," he said gruffly, clenching his fist. He'd been beating himself up ever since the incident, cursing himself for that singular moment of not even a second that led to you being in this state.

✧ He would make sure nothing like that would happen to you ever again.

✧ He had already lost Yachiru (even though she was technically still with him) and he refused to lose another person he cared about.

✧ As soon as you'd regained your health, he'd firmly banned you from leaving on any missions at all, which had made you lash out and punch him (dealing absolutely no damage) much to Kenpachi's amusement.

✧ Knowing how stubborn you could be, the times when he personally had to leave on a mission, he locked you up with shackles blocking your spiritual power. No matter how mad you got at him or viciously tried to fight back and stop him, you were like an angry kitten, all bark and no bite.

✧ At all other times of day, you were effectively thrown onto his shoulder, taking Yachiru's place. It was the only way he could be certain to keep you from sneaking away on missions as he had no doubts that you would run off with your zanpakuto the second he let you out of his sight.

✧ Really, who was going to stop him? Few were strong enough to oppose him, and the positive impact you had on keeping him calm unfortunately had Head Captain Shunsui siding with Kenpachi. "For the greater good," he'd said in a meeting, shooting you an apologetic glance as you clenched your fists and bit back tears, seated in Kenpachi's lap.

✧ You'd spend your days glued to his side, wondering if things would have been different if you'd never smiled his way.

✧ If you'd known how things would turn out, you'd never have followed your dreams and fought to join the 11th squad.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

[exo-raskreia]

I've seen an idea floating around that Bleach should've had a much darker ending, that Ichigo should've remained single and left Karakura town entirely after TYBW.

To use a Lord of the Rings reference, its his "Frodo returning to the Shire" moment. After everything he's been through, everything he's been forced to suffer through in the grand game of several degrees of narcissistic sociopaths, Ichigo should've just quit that whole life entirely and started fresh elsewhere. Because how is he able to find peace or rest because he's been forced to fight two wars before he'd turned 18, that the wars should've scarred him so deeply, no amount of help can really fix it.

What do you say to that idea?

Well, it sounds very unlikely. Ichigo hated being a regular human, as proven by the Fullbring arc. He missed Rukia and having the power (particularly shinigami power) to protect. He loved being a shinigami. It's when he feels most alive. He hated his Hollow side, only wanted Fullbring to regain his shinigami powers & see Rukia again, & he didn't seem to have any attachment to his Quincy power. When he was given the choice in the final arc to choose between his hybrid powers, he chose shinigami. (Unfortunately, Kub0 threw it all out the window with that nonsensical ending 🙄).

Ichigo had made many friends in Soul Society. Some of who gave him some of their power to make him a shinigami again in the Fullbring arc. Ichigo himself had inspired them to become better, to have different ideas (once again, Kub0 threw that out the window when he showed the rebuilt Sokyoku Hill in that ending 😒).

He wasn't necessarily loyal to Soul Society, however. He was loyal to Rukia & her ideals of what it means to be a shinigami. She inspired him. There is an interesting analysis on that here and expanded on here. She helped form the type of shinigami he wanted to be & what should've lead to big & better changes to Soul Society. Bl3ach was supposed to have a heroic ending in which Ichigo & Rukia had changed the system. Soul Society was, & still is, corrupt, so it should've changed (if it was meant to have a happy ending, that is). But nothing did. This post is an amazing analysis & theory on Bl3ach's narrative & where it was maybe supposed to lead to.

The only trauma Ichigo ever seemed to show was when he couldn't protect his loved ones. When he lost control to his Hollow & it killed Ulquiorra at the dome; he did not feel like a victor (it was only Rukia who snapped him out of it). And when he kept getting toyed with pathetically by Ywach in the circus performance that were the last chapters (he had no proper backup nor encouragement from, say, *ahem* Rukia. Urahara's last words, anyone?).

So, I doubt Ichigo would've left it all behind in the way you described. However, it would've fit right in with the "choosing unhappiness to defeat Ywach" theories... Being away from everything that made him feel alive would make him unhappy, wouldn't it?

[vicioux]

ICHIHIME FIC RECS

i can't believe i've been reading ichihime fanfics for literally 10 years ✌️ my favorite flavor is definitely pining with a touch of angst, but i am also a sucker for just them giggly all over each other! thank you bleach TYBW anime revival for bringing me back to these two cutie patooties and an even bigger thank you to all the writers that have been keeping the fandom alive all these years (especially in the earlier days back in the wild wild west of ff.net and LJ lol) y'all are amazing 💖 happy reading everyone p.s you can find the rest of my fic rec lists here

🍓 alternate universe 🍞

THE BRIDE OF THE DEATH GOD by caledon A plague descended upon the village, and to appease the God of Death they offered him a bride as a sacrifice.

THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING by marshmallowbirb High-schooler Kurosaki Ichigo discovers that he isn't as human as he once thought - and neither is his classmate, Inoue Orihime.

THE RELUCTANT BRIDEGROOM, DEATH by marshmallowbirb On a sunny summer morning, the young goddess Orihime gathers flowers on a hillside.

STARCROSS'D by child of the ashes In the vampire palace of Los Noches, there is no greater curse than beauty, and no greater crime than love.

NEXT VISIT by aurona x She can see him only with autumn comes, that man of the deep blue tree. And over the years, her love for him grows.

MOTHERHOOD by ashe flyght Orihime's family is financially unstable. So when Japan's most in demand actor, Kurosaki Ichigo offers her an unusual job will she accept it?

FINE LINES by lastlynotleast Ichigo is a tattoo artist and Orihime has skin he could draw on forever.

🍓 multichapter 🍞

THE BOND BETWEEN US by ritsu-san Post Ch. 352: Ichigo and Orihime are left to figure out this strange bond they share.

TIL DEATH DO US PART by marshmallowbirb Deemed too powerful, Ichigo is sequestered in Soul Society after defeating Aizen. Ten years later, one of his human friends dies.

THE CLOCKWORK SWITCH by sesamerolls (1 // 2 // 3) “Kurosaki-kun?” She wanted to bite back her words. This person couldn’t be him. He was a few inches taller, broader, and manlier than the youth who gave her daifuku just minutes before.

🍓 oneshots that will make you feeeeel 🍞

DEMAGNETIZE by ghosty If opposites attract, then what does that mean for us?

TACTILE by mrhooty Orihime has accepted that her boundaries will never be respected, but Ichigo is too good of a friend to allow that.

AFFIRMATION by sesamerolls Ichihime from the beginning to the end.

HOME IS WHERE THE SUN SETS by awkwardspaceturtle Using the word ‘beautiful’ didn’t seem like enough; nothing he could ever say out loud would tell her how she really looked in his eyes.

BUILD A HOUSE IN PARADISE by zabiume Ichigo and Orihime move in together.

PAPER HOUSES by zabiume Mostly, he just wanted to know if she was okay, if she was eating well and passing her courses and if, when she went to bed at night, she had someone to smile about.

PROMPTFILL by zabiume Truth serum induced angst.

PROMPTFILL by captainrukias-husband Ichigo writes a poem for Orihime.

TEMPTARE BEAST by mayelisa As Orihime watched in horror as Ichigo took on that form again, she had a sinking feeling that this day wouldn't turn out at all like she had planned.

MEMORIES IN THE RAIN by garden of magnolias If I were the rain, could I connect with someone's heart, as the rain can unite the eternally separated earth and sky?

ALWAYS SUMMER by folle Orihime is calling, calling, and Ichigo doesn't know how to not answer, except in the most important way.

BECOMING WHOLE by lovelycollision He loves her in various ways, during different stages of his life. It's after the war when he realizes that he's in the third stage, otherwise known as the beginning.

🍓 outside POV looking in 🍞

ELEVATING by sesamerolls “Okay, let’s theoretically agree Ichi-nii has a girlfriend,” said Karin, resting her palm underneath her chin.

SIMPLY BY MEASUREMENT by sesamerolls When it first began, he pretended not to notice.

PROMPTFILL by scribblles Ichigo screwed up his befuddlement into a distinctly grumpy expression. “For your information, I wasn’t daydreaming, I was thinking. Worrying, actually. And it’s about a friend. Who… happens to be a girl.”

🍓 funny fluffy oneshots 🍞

OF MICE AND MEN by garden of magnolias Ichigo realizes that getting rid of a mouse in his and Orihime's apartment is a lot more complicated when it involves his girlfriend.

I REJECT! by scribblles Keigo has a rare moment of inadvertent correctness.

RUMOUR HAS IT by fictionaryplace Ichigo and Orihime have important news, but decide to have a little fun with their friends and family before coming clean.

DELAYED REACTION by crystal dawn Orihime is feeling under the weather. Against his better judgment, Ichigo suggests she visit his father's clinic.

ICED FRAPPUCCINO by hedonysms Ichigo and Orihime get a coffee. Ichigo is simultaneously an emotional sap and a horny, utterly repressed man.

STARTING FRESH by kay sincere Ichigo doesn't have a resolution for the new year himself. But it does come to his attention that his friends could use his help.

NOSEBLEED by deathberryhime Where that little smile would have done more damage than intended to.

OUR BREATHS IN PERFECT HARMONY by iwillhaveamoonbase When Ichigo's friend talks about a cute girl at a bakery, Ichigo agrees to introduce them with no idea that the girl in question is his girlfriend.

WELL WISHERS by adverb_slut It turns out that shinigami are not so great at gift-buying, especially for a four-week-old baby.

THE ART OF SHIPPING by alice hattercandy In which, everyone ships. Even Ichigo.

🍓 anything and everything by these authors 🍞

SESAMEROLLS CAPTAINRUKIAS-HUSBAND ZABIUME (tumblr // ao3) SCRIBBLLES CRYSTALDAWN / MARSHMALLOWBIRB (ffnet // ao3) ORIHIMES RITSU-SAN (more on their LJ sunburnt-wings) TRAGICOMEDY (more on their LJ explicates)

[derekscorner]

Kurosaki Twin Conundrum

For the past few weeks I've been talking about Zanpakuto types, Ichigo's non-canon forms, or gushing about my Quincy Ichigo ideas but after finishing my part three to the zanpakuto types I was reminded of something; The Kurosaki Twins.

I used to have a post on them way back but now that the 'Thousand Year Blood War' is being animated with Kubo's noteworthy influence involved I'll tackle this topic again.

This isn't a post about their characters per say but about the nature of their abilities. There is no doubt they have some power but we don't know what kind of powers. Allow me to explain.

Masaki & White

Thanks to the TYBW anime any Bleach fan knows by now that Ichigo was so unique due to the incident involving these two. I'll skip the convoluted nature of Ichigo himself since the show explains already.

What's important to Ichigo's sisters is that White was not present when they were conceived and later born. By the time the twins were a thing in their mothers womb White had already merged with Ichigo and transformed into Zangetsu.

Like Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu are the children of a pureblood Quincy and a Soul Reaper from a very old clan. Unlike Ichigo, they did not inherit a hollow.

Another thing that should be noted is that the sisters are fraternal twins rather than identical ones. I do not know if this had an impact on their powers or not but it is something to keep in mind should the anime or Kubo make a statement in the future.

Either way, going by these sequence of events, you'd immediately assume that the girls are perfect hybrids of a quincy and soul reaper.

But I do not think it's that simple. For one, we know that mixed blood quincies (which the girls happen to be) need more work to awaken their full potential. There are even some abilities they'd have to work for that a purebred quincy would have at birth.

Ichigo himself never uses his quincy abilities consciously. It is Zangetsu who uses them and even then the full "flood gates" as it were did not open until Ichigo battled Quilge Opie. Yhwach clearly states that this battle and the cage Quilge trapped Ichigo in awakened his latent quincy power.

Yuzu nor Karin have had a teacher nor any circumstance strenuous enough to awaken those powers. Even when in the grip of a hollow and their lives threatened they did not awaken any abilities.

Of course, I must remind you, Ichigo is special. White became Zangetsu, Ichigo's quincy powers had taken on a mind of their own and could do these things.

Which brings us to our next point.

"Old Man" Zangetsu's Absence

Masaki's inner hollow, White, became Ichigo's inner hollow and then transformed into his zanpakuto. As flawed as it was compared to a true zanpakuto used by actual Soul Reapers it still existed.

The absence of White means that Yuzu & Karin do not have the special circumstances to have their own innate zanpakuto. The Soul Reaper powers they would've inherited have no way to manifest.

Although Soul Reapers have families, unique powers, magic, and knowledge they do not come into the world with a zanpakuto in hand. They only get that once they begin training and receive their "Asauchi".

The "asauchi" will bond to that Soul Reaper and eventually become the zanpakuto. It is a crucial element they'd need.

Their human forms may also hinder this process. Even Ichigo can't use his Soul Reaper powers without leaving his human body....although his son doesn't seem to have that issue but he's a headache we won't cover.

So where does that leave us?

Well, they have no hollow powers. White was already gone when they were conceived.

They should have latent Soul Reaper powers but being living humans and without Zanpakuto they can’t manifest.

They should have some degree of Quincy powers but they seem entirely dormant. Even Yhwach's Auswählen didn't target them nine years ago.

In essence, they're effectively human....but they're obviously not. Despite the lack of unique abilities both sisters show the ability to see spirits.

For Karin this is even more pronounced because she's fully capable of seeing Ichigo in his Soul Reaper form. She has the spiritual power to see and touch a Soul Reaper.

That is way more impressive than the series lets on. The Soul Reapers even refer to humans with this level of spiritual power as "High Spec" humans.

They're rare but they are not unheard of.

Although the anime makes her unable to see spirits it's a fact that Yuzu actually can see ghosts. She can only perceive a blurry image but she is spiritually aware.

She too has something innate even if it's just raw spiritual energy. Sadly, we see little of it save for anime filler which obviously do not count.

Between the two the series actually makes a bigger deal of Karin's powers especially for the year Ichigo was powerless:

She even goes to Urahara often to get items to ward off things like Hollows since she's essentially an easy target they can sense miles away.

You may wonder what my point is with all this when I systematically closed the routes of them having powers earlier. It's simple, they do have powers but we just do not know what form they take.

Even if you argue that Yuzu is effectively human it's obvious that Karin isn't. Without Ichigo's overwhelming spiritual pressure her own skyrocketed.

She has a power that's developing which is why this curiosity over the twins persists.

Hypothesis & Conclusions

In conclusion to all of this they should not have specific powers. Yuzu, in fact, seems to not have anything other than weak spirit perception. While Karin is obviously more than she seems even if she has no desire to explore what that power is.

And all though I shut down so many possibilities earlier there is things to consider;

For example, White may have been gone but it's possible remnants of it's spiritual power resided within Masaki. That would make it possible to one or both twins to have latent Fullbring potential.

There is always a possibility that their Quincy natures could awaken as well under a specific circumstance.

Then there's the Shiba clan their father comes from. It is one of the five founding clans of the Soul Society. It is a literal primordial bloodline and there's no telling what unique powers are latent there.

The reaper powers they did inherit would awaken should they get an asauchi and become a reaper. Or should someone grant them powers as substitute soul reapers.

I have no real answers to any of it but it is a topic still fun to talk about. I'd like to know what they could be even if they never go that route. Kubo is answering a lot of questions on his website these days so maybe we'll get one some day.

Either way, I'm done now. Bye~

[recurring-polynya]

It's been over a year, and I'm still never not thinking about the fact that that Hihiou Zabimaru was one man's unsuccessful forty-year project to beat Kuchiki Byakuya in particular. And, like, that sounds so pathetic and depressing, but it's really not! For one, the fact that Hihiou Zabimaru is designed to fight against Senbonzakura means that they also fight really well together, in the sense that they are both useful in the same conditions, and they cover for each other's weaknesses (Senbonzakura is faster, Zabimaru is more durable). Both of them can do offense or defense, but have trouble doing both at once. That's not a problem if Byakuya and Renji work together, and gives them a lot of flexibility.

Sometimes the way to defeat a sword is to create its opposite, but in this case, they're actually pretty similar, and if you think about the skills needed to wield them, they're very similar. For all that Byakuya and Renji butted heads in the Soul Society Arc, they get their shit sorted out pretty well, and by the TYBW, I think they have one of the best captain-lieutenant fighting partnerships, in terms of communication, trust, and sweet combo moves (Hitsugaya-Matsumoto is the other one that comes close, imo).

My thesis of this Tumblr post is that I think Byakuya spent a lot of time mentoring Renji, and the development of his bankai, specifically. From the first moment he sees it, Byakuya comments that Hihiou Zabimaru is Good, Actually.

He then immediately identifies how to defeat it:

I simply love whenever one slightly older Bleach character who is fighting a younger one cannot stop themself from giving battle tips and general life advice to their opponents (Ikkaku and Renji both do this to Ichigo and then Byakuya does this to Renji). I'm sure you could chalk it up to shounen manga using its characters as mouthpieces to explain what's going on, but in my mind and in my heart, it's because these dudes just love teaching!!! And you know why Byakuya was able to pinpoint Renji's weakness, just, immediately? Because that was him. You think Ginrei didn't do exactly this same thing to him a thousand times when he was learning to use Senbonzakura Kageyoshi?? (oh shit oh FUCK it's literally The Dodge all over again).

Anyway, you will never convince me that Byakuya doesn't love the fact that Renji picked him as his Favored Enemy and then went ahead and developed the Most Fun Bankai Possible for Senbonzakura Kageyoshi to Fight.

Just today, I realized that, while So-oh Zabimaru might represent Renji moving on from his rivalry with Byakuya, they also contain a very visible aspect of Byakuya's influence: the hand movement.

I'm not gonna lie, mostly I wanted to make this post because the idea of post-Blood War Byakuya and Renji sparring in bankai and waving their arms around like they're casting wizard spells is extremely hilarious to me. Do you think Byakuya could shape his petals into a giant hand so they can magically arm-wrestle? (RIP Komamura, this could have been you)

All jokes aside, though, the idea that it took Byakuya's help for Renji to learn to use The Grabby Arm--the thing that allows him to close distance, the thing that allows him to hold on to the things that matter to him--is honestly kinda poignant.

[r473n]

Fic number 2 of the day and my first UraMayu. Now, I'm not a massive fan of Urahara, he's too shifty. But rewatching TYBW I felt like he and Mayuri got along much better than normal, and it made me think... and this came out.

Also, very much influenced by my shitty mental health atm, so be prepared for a long-winded first couple of chapters with lots of talk about depression, coping with loss, etc.

NSFW, angst with fluffy smut, UraMayu. Finished work, just needing to do final touch-ups, will post within the week.

Read on ao3

Grief

Pair: Mayuri Kurotsuchi x Kisuke Urahara

Bad TW: depression, mourning, suicidal thoughts, drug misuse, weight loss, lack of self care.

Not so bad TW: smut, fluff, oral sex, anal sex, anal fingering.

Chapter 1: Akon’s treachery

Kisuke Urahara followed the young scientist down yet another serpentine corridor, staring around in awe.

The SRDI had changed so much since the last time he’d been there, only a few months past, that he was truly grateful to have a guide. He wondered silently if Kurotsuchi had purposefully designed the new building to be such a maze or if that had been an unfortunate side effect to the ambitious size of the reform project. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the former.

He sighed to himself as he mindlessly followed the trail of smoke left behind by the cigarette held loosely between Akon’s fingers.

The war had been devastating, terrible in its cruelty. It had taken many lives and destroyed most of the Sereitei as he knew it. Yet in amongst the chaos and tragedy, he’d managed to experience a sliver of heaven.

Well, perhaps calling it heaven was a little much. After all, working with Mayuri again had it’s challenges… but it certainly had been a blessed few days. Under the time constraints and dire situation, the Captain of the 12th had pushed his old feud aside and they’d easily fallen back into their old routine as if it’d only been a day since Kisuke had been exiled.

And Mayuri had dazed him with his brilliance. As always.

He was the only soul in existence that could keep up with him, and on many occasions, it was he, Urahara, who struggled to catch up! That never happened to him! Most people’s minds were so simple that it was almost risible. But Kurotsuchi was as complex as he was difficult.

He’d felt so close to him again, working together in his private lab, developing tools against the Quincy and helping Kurosaki and his friends.

He felt ashamed to admit he had hoped the battle would last much longer. He had hoped they didn’t need to intervene.

But fate had different ideas.

And then Nemu...

Akon had filled him in on what had followed after she passed during their call.

At first, Mayuri had gone manic. For weeks he worked non-stop to rebuild the 12th, endless hours, day and night. Energised by some cursed sense of impending je ne sais quoi. A something he seemed to hope to find in amongst the wreck and rubble.

An ill-fated trepidation that had him in a constant state of overdrive. He stopped sleeping, he stopped eating. He became even more impossible to work for.

Despite surviving through hell, everyone at the division remained loyal to their captain and navigated his tempestuous moods as well as they could whilst internalising their own hardship. But the worst didn’t come until it was all finished. The day after inaugurating the new and reformed SIRD.

It felt as if Mayuri’s excitement had been in crescendo for weeks, and in the end, his bubble had burst into a huge pile of disappointing nothingness. What he had been expecting, no one knew. What was he hoping would be at the end of the rope? What did he think would happen once the hard work was done?

For as long as he could focus solely on the grind, his feelings had been nicely contained to the far corner of his mind. But once everything on the list was ticked off…

He lost it.

Badly.

He blew up, like a nuke, in the middle of the new computer room, flattening everything with his blast. He went so unhinged that Akon had to intervene, fearing he’d actually kill someone, only when Mayuri turned his attention to him he could hardly move nor speak - frozen with a cold panic he hadn’t known before. There was nothing in Mayuri’s eyes but a bitter void, his empty glare pierced through him without a glint of recognition. And Akon knew he was going to die.

It wasn’t until the edge of Ashisogi Jizo started digging into his neck that Mayuri’s features changed. A flash, a flicker, almost imperceptible if not because time had congealed for the young scientist. Mayuri had stilled his hand at the last second, leaving a tiny scar that Isane hadn’t been able to erase.

The captain had been holed up in his new quarters since, in complete isolation.

He hadn’t answered any messages. Hadn’t come out. Hadn’t ordered anything to eat or drink and hadn’t let anyone in, not even to clean or tidy up.

After two months, and many fruitless attempts, Akon couldn’t bear it anymore and called the only person he thought could reach him. Even though he knew that Mayuri would never forgive him for such betrayal.

To be fair to the young man, Urahara thought, he hadn’t technically betrayed Mayuri’s trust. He’d just called him for a friendly chat. The action was simply so alien that it triggered all of Kisuke’s alarms. When Akon extended him an invitation to visit the new institute, as homage to him for being it’s original creator, Kisuke knew with certainty something was terribly wrong with Kurotsuchi. Either that or he was stupidly walking into some twisted trap. But he didn’t think so - something in Akon’s tone had made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end.

“And these are the Captain’s quarters. Obviously, they are out of bounds.” Said the young man offhandedly before taking a long drag of a cigarette that was mostly ash.

“I see!” Urahara’s voice sounded animated but his eyes were covered in shadows.

“Oh, sorry” Akon took a glance at a small electronic screen he just pulled out of his pocket. “I'm afraid I need to get this.”

“No worries, Akon-san! I’ll find my way back. It’s been nice seeing you.”

The young shinigami nodded, as Urahara tipped his hat, before walking away. Taking a last glance at the tall ex-captain, who was simply staring at the door and stroking his chin in thought, Akon turned the corner, feeling a pang of regret twist his stomach.

[hollowfyshunsuikubo]

The Midnight Flame

A/N: More soulmate au i literally love this concept sm Izuru is one of my favourite Bleach characters, and I’ve been playing around with writing this in my spare time. This one is set pre-tybw but post fullbringer arc. I used the soul tug concept for this one, where the first touch between soulmates loosens the tug completely. Though, if your soulmate is having a hard time in any way, it can cause you pain. Only a little angst in this one >:) reader is both depressed and enraged so good luck. Once again, not Beta read

Izuru Kira x gn!reader Word count: 6.4k Warnings: angst, nsfw smut, bad language AU: Soulmates

Morning. The sunlight through the windows, the feel of a blanket covering only his legs. Morning. The arrival of another day, going to waste. Sitting up, Kira looks at his hands. Hardened from years of being a shinigami. He inspected them, turning them over, holding them up to the light that caused him to squint, searching for something that was both never and always there.

A hand reached up to grab one of his, followed by the interlocking of fingers. His heart jumped as he looked to the right, hoping, praying, needing- 

And there was nothing. He was alone in his bed, as always. It got cold at night, but it was warm in the mornings. With a sigh, he got out of bed, and got ready for the day. His captain was… interesting, to say the least. A music man. He was so different from Gin, like fire and water. Gin was unpredictable, he came and went as he pleased, often leaving some form of destruction in his wake. He raged through the Gotei 13, laughing as he did. His betrayal burned, and left its scars. Third degrees ran up over Kira’s arms, his torso, his legs. It felt like the fire of it was behind his eyes. When he thought of Gin, he thought of fire, he thought of how it felt to be burning without any water to douse the flames. Captain Otorobashi was different. He was like water. He filled the spaces he entered with ease, and even when he left, droplets of his kind words or generous music remained. He flowed with what needed to be done, and he left no space untouched. Captain Otorobashi was a calming presence, one that soothed the burns that covered Kira day after day, and finally put out the fires that had enveloped his skin. 

But with water came caution. Fire, at least, was direct with its deadliness. Water lulled you into a false sense of security, then drowned you as soon as you got too comfortable. Water could fill your lungs and take away your ability to scream, to speak. Water filled up any and all spaced, and could very well kill any and all within them. Kira had been burned before, and even if the flames had been cooled with sweet water, there was no telling if he’d drown. 

Morning. Kira walked out of his room and greeted his squadmates. Morning. Morning. Morning. Each day was the same. Morning meetings with his Captain, who would be strumming on a guitar or reading one of those manga he enjoyed. Then training, then requests, then paperwork until sundown, then to bed. Each day is more repetitive than the last, no change in scenery, no chance to unwind at the end of the night with something other than a bottle of sake and his right hand. The same hand he thought they had grabbed, whoever they were. He would love to change his days with the feeling of someone beside him, lounging in his bed when he went back to his room, smiling and waiting for him. He would love to wake up beside someone, kisses turning into wandering hands, wandering hands that turned into being late and disheveled for his morning meeting with Captain Otorobashi. He would love to finally see his soulmate. 

As he approached his Captain's office, he focused in on his heart. He felt the same familiar tug, that ever present feeling of being pulled somewhere. In a moment of hesitation, Kira paused in front of his Captains office. A lump rose in his throat, choking him as he wondered where his other half was.

–

“This could have been an afternoon job,” You groan as Shuhei drops a large stack of files on your desk. He shakes his head and tosses you a pen.

“This could be an afternoon job, but it might take all day, so it’s an all day job for you.” Shuhei was never one to beat around the bush with you. It was like talking to a printer. The same words, over and over again, hell-bent on forcing you to forget the incessant tugging you constantly felt in your heart, and the fact that you often found yourself staring out the window, hoping that your obviously internally tortured soulmate was at least doing okay. It was a painful tug, one that made your heart ache. Some days, it was so bad you couldn’t work, which brought no end of shame to Captain Muguruma and Lieutenant Hisagi. It’s not like you liked it either, as you’ve tried saying so many times. But neither of them are too impressed with you.

Recently, it’s like you’re being punished for things you can't readily control. Cramps had you taken out, despite the fact you were more than willing to throw yourself into whatever training was being offered by Captain Muguruma. Anything was better than missing another day because of some stupid pain. You were denied. You threw a plate in response. 

After that, during a particularly bad day, after an apparently horrendous captains meeting, the tugging on your heart had wrenched so bad it caused you to vomit, while also praying your soulmate wasn’t a captain, least of all your captain, since some of the tugs in your heart seemed to line up with his foul moods. You didn't really think it was though. What kind of soulmate literally throws you into your room and slams the door, leaving you to choke?

Whoever your soulmate was, they were causing no end to the grief you were going through. The paperwork on your desk was looking extremely flammable. Fire seemed to be the only way you were going to calm down, since you burned with rage over just how standoffish, stubborn, and stoic your squadmates were. You were fed up. But you still took the work that you correctly deemed an afternoon job, and first thing in the morning, started your pity paperwork with a scowl.

One day, you’d meet your soulmate and be able to quell the furious tugging on your heart that sometimes left you incapacitated. One day you’d be able to sit down and do pity paperwork so fast, Captain Muguruma would have no choice but to sing your praises.

One day, you'd be appreciated for the fact that you still work hard, despite the challenges you face. 

–

The nights were almost worse than the mornings. Sweat dripped down his face as he hunched over himself, holding his dick in his hand, stroking, squeezing slightly every now and then, his eyes fluttering. So often his heart hurt at night, and so often did he engage in guilty pleasures he should be saving for his soulmate. It brought him no end of guilt. He threw his head back as he began to move faster, his cock bobbing in his hands as he chased his release. He was filled with images he couldn’t even see clearly- hints of skin, another's hand, another's mouth, another's hole-

Kira gasped and groaned as he spilled over his fist, slowing his stroke to nothing. His mind was a mess, and once again, the clarity that came after hit him like a brick. 

What was he doing? He could be making good use of his time, getting sleep, resting his mind, being awake enough to maybe search for his soulmate, and yet. He was awake so late, hand on his cock, a weak and pale imitation of someone who would bring him joy that surpassed an orgasm beyond belief. Face burning in shame- that fire again -he cleaned off his hand before laying down. Fire was what burned him in the first place. That traitor, the man he trusted most, the man who, like a flame, had swept across him and teased him, teased him, about who the other half of his soul was. Who showed him what it was to be strong like the flame and burn so brightly even the sun would be jealous. 

He found a simple answer while reliving such a betrayal. He was afraid of having what he wanted. He was afraid of the fire of whoever matched his soul because of the burns that would follow. It was the reason he only kept Shuhei close, the reason he stayed an arms length away from everyone else, including his captain. His captain, who, like water, would soothe his burns, put out his flame, and carry him to safety if he wished. Yet water killed too, just slower. Kira lay on his back, a hand behind his head, and focused on the tug in his heart. He wondered if everyone had to go searching for that tug. Maybe his soulmate just had a simple life, without much fear or stress. Maybe his soulmate's heart was a closed book, better at hiding its anger and fear than he was. 

The last thought hurt his heart. He had gone through so much- he only wished that his soulmate was alright, and that whenever they searched for their connection, their tug, that they were not angry with what they found.

–

If it were possible to be enraged at a person you’d never met, seen, spoken to, or even knew at all, you decided you were rightfully pissed at your soulmate, whoever the bastard was. Your chest felt like it was being torn open, and you hid in the gardens of your squad. You were on a late night patrol, and things were going fine.

Until.

Until whoever your soulmate was decided to have a miserable time of things. You gagged as you curled up into a ball, hiding behind a large tree. You wouldn’t be seen like this. You hated it. If you could’ve made any wish at that moment, it would be to close off the connection between your souls, if even for two minutes, just so you could at least run to your room to have privacy. With what little strength you had, You attempted to stand. Tears pricked your eyes from the sheer pain, and you felt your dinner threaten to come up.

Then a hand grasped your arm.

“You look like shit,” Shuhei said bluntly. “Why are you still out here? Go home.” With a glaring side eye, you wrenched your arm out of his grasp, stumbling back a little. He must’ve heard the gagging, or just his damned sixth sense that told him where you were at all times. He must truly despise you to keep tabs on you like this. To always know when to send you home just so he can dock your pay, save the division a little more money. It made you want to howl. It made you want to feel blood between your teeth and your zanpakuto clenched so tightly in your hands that the sheer force of your grip left bruises.

“Fuck off. I’m fine.” You spat in response. The aching in your chest only got worse. Shuhei didn’t move.

–

He was at a crossroads. He could pick you up and haul you back to your room in the barracks and force you to stay in, he could stay with you and attempt to help you ride out the waves of this pain that seemed to cause you physical harm, or he could… leave. Shuhei could listen and leave. Listen and leave, easy as that. Something not even Muguruma did. He just grunted and sent you away. Left all the work to him, and let Mashiro annoy the shit out of him while he was working…

He couldn’t leave you. You were his subordinate, and you were in pain. It seemed like you were made of pain. It hurt him, but not as much as it hurt you. You were a diligent person, and you tried so hard. Yet there was always something wrong, things you couldn’t control. Because of the pain, you turned into a being of hate. A cornered, starving dog, snarling at everyone. Sure, you joked sometimes, but your anger was a fire that scorched others. Shuhei wasn’t sure if it burned the Squad or you more. 

Crossroads. He watched as you attempted to stand up straight, a hand grasping the left side of your shihakusho like you were going to rip it off. Your left hand grasping at yourself as if you could tear your soulmate bond out of your chest. In a moment of forgetfulness, Shuehi reached for you, but that flash of anger in your eyes made him stop and lower his hand. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know how to help. He couldn’t leave you, he couldn’t help you, and he couldn’t even show you that your anger was misplaced but not misunderstood. He couldn’t even be a good Lieutenant. He was grasping at nothing. So he stood tall, and just watched. He swallowed words and swallowed pity, and watched. He watched as you finally were able to stand, using the tree you were hiding behind as your crutch. He watched as you glared at him. And he listened as you spoke.

“Did you not hear me, Lieutenant? I’m fine. Fuck off.” Your voice burned with anger. He couldn’t help you, not without flames rising up his skin. But he’d been burned before. Captain Muguruma was made of fire. He burned away all the residual droplets that Tosen has left behind. Fire was a warm, comforting, protective thing when it needed to be. Just as water was not only calm and welcoming, but also a killer. Everything needed moderation. Shuhei knew that fire and water were both needed. You were burning in flames of pain, anger, and your own misery without any water to douse you in. Shuhei swallowed and finally, he spoke.

“You’re not fine. You’re hurting again and-” How like you to cut him off, riling like a dog about to strike.

“Lieutenant Hisagi,” His heart ached. Gone were the days you’d laugh and joke together, calling each other by first names. Another reminder of what had been washed away as the years had gone by. “I know you may not like me right now, but for the love of God, let me do my job.” It felt like a slap to the face. Not like you? You were his friend. Sure, you may not have been his anchor like Momo or Kira, but he still saw you as a friend. You’d begun pulling away. You’d begun to suffer alone after Tosen betrayed the Gotei, and you’d suffered more as your soulmate had begun to pull so hard your heart couldn’t take it. And you had the audacity to say that he was the one that didn’t like you. You-

“Listen,” His voice is sharp, like glass, hoping to slice your skin to make you bleed out your self-loathing. “Shut up. I am your Lieutenant. I am your superior. I am telling you to go home. I am giving you a goddamn order. Are you insubordinate?” He felt cruel. But he was at his wits end with you. There wasn’t anything he could do, and you refused to accept help, or even let him listen. You had shut yourself off and withdrew to the point where he halfway considered putting you on a watch. Yet you persisted, the pain that haunts your every waking moment, something you are determined to not let define you. It hurts him.

People had to focus to feel that tug. Everyone was a master of emotions. The fact you felt it like someone had tied a raging hollow to your heart and soul meant whoever your soulmate was was hiding a great deal of inner pain. Or they didn’t have a good grasp on their emotions. Either way, Shuhei didn’t know how to help. He could feel his tug, pulsing away, but it never hurt. Not like yours. But seeing you, an old friend, in enough pain that you are sick and weakened because of it made him despise your soulmate. It made him want to grab the offender by the throat and throttle them until they go ahold of themselves. A fire burned in your eyes as you turned his words over in your head. Shuhei kept a stern face on, despite the fact he’d directly threatened you. You wouldn’t know it, but he felt remorse for what he had to do.

–

You wanted to hit Shuhei. He looked every part the asshole as you thought he was. He’s been picking things up from Captain Muguruma, that’s for sure. Both of them are pricks. Cold, reserved, and uncaring. You could scream. You could leap forward and rip Shuhei to shreds. But instead, you glare and turn away, managing your pain for just long enough to walk to your room in the barracks, and slam the door. Someone will complain in the morning about the noise, but you don't care. You burn with fury. You lay in your bed, your anger getting the best of you for some time, until all you can do is think.

You fucked up, yet again. Every single time the burning pain from the tug in your heart gets too much, you lash out. It’s becoming the thing that is ruining your life, but only because you keep letting it. If only you could make it stop, but with what time? Finding one's soulmate took time, and time was something you didn’t have the luxury of. There were articles to edit, training to be done, rounds and commissions to complete. You couldn’t follow the tug of your heart without negativity following you as you returned. It was a cruel thing. Just like you and Shuhei have been to each other for some time now. It felt like another betrayal each time you and Shuhei butted heads. He seemed insistent on you not overworking yourself, while also sending you home whenever you showed a wince of pain. But you wanted to work. You wanted to keep doing what you loved in vain hopes the tug in your heart would lessen and finally be something you had to search for.

The night was long. Nights were always worse than the days. But you closed your eyes and ignored how the tugging in your heart, the tugging in your very soul, clogged your throat and made you choke on your own misery. Hatred pooled in your heart, but not for you soulmate. It made you sick.

–

“Someone’s in pain?” Kira blinked as Shuhei lamented. His close friend wasn’t doing well. Bags under his eyes, slouched shoulders, messier hair. It was like he’d been working overtime again. 

“And they won’t listen. All I do is tell them ‘take care of yourself. Go home and rest. Take your time’ and all they do is get angry!” Shuhei ranted. He took another swig of sake and glared at nothing. Kira was getting concerned. “If I ever meet their soulmate, I’m gonna use Kazeshini and slice ‘em up.” 

Kira was very uncomfortable with that notion, mainly because he’d be an accessory to murder if it happened, and whoever this person in pain was would have to live without the other half of their soul permanently. He had another sip of sake for himself, feeling sullen. He glanced at his friend again.

“How bad is it? Surely it can’t be that bad-”

“Now you even sound like them! Fucks sakes… throwing up because your tug is hurting that bad and still saying you can fight a hollow isn’t a good thing. I’m going to put them on leave just so they can find their stupid soulmate and so I can get a piece of ‘em and give them a piece of my mind… ugh.”

Kira ignored how Shuhei had interrupted him. He listened quietly, and thought about this person. They sounded strong, but tortured by pain they didn’t ask to have. He felt his own heart ache in solidarity. He wished his soulmate wasn’t in pain. Selfishly, Kira wished he could abandon everything just for a day so he could find his soulmate. Maybe then his hand would stop being his only comfort in the night hours. To finally hold them in his arms and be able to feel their skin against his as he kissed their forehead and apologized for taking so long. Shuhei had another long drink, and Kira saw this as an opportunity. He’d been feeling so restless lately, maybe a change of scenery would be a good thing.

“Why don’t I come in and help for a bit? I’m sure Captain Muguruma would understand, what with how chaotic Mashiro is, and all the work you’re putting in for the Communication…” He trailed off, anxious to hear what his friend would say. Shuhei was about to take another drink, then paused halfway. He lowered the bottle and stared at it, his expression forlorn.

“...maybe I’ll take ‘em to the printing room. That’ll raise their spirits. I’m just worried about ‘em… they’re still my friend, you know? Seeing them in pain, and hearing them accuse me of not liking them… it’s hard.” 

Kira had no idea what Shuhei was on about, but concluded it must be about the person he was ranting about before. Overall, he took it as an agreement. Kira had another sip of his own sake as Shuhei starts to bawl, the bartender looking at them oddly. Shuhei started saying a name, which seemed odd to Kira, but he concluded it as the person's name. Placing a hand over his heart as he begins to drink all of his sake, Kira hopes his soulmate is alright, and not suffering in pain like Shuhei’s other friend is. He shook his head as Shuhei howled in misery, and Lieutenant Iba had to restrain him.

–

You stared at the printing press. Your mind churned, trying to find the reason behind Shuhei's current niceness. It felt like a trap. You inspected every inch of it, making sure nothing was faulty. It had been a long time since Shuhei had let you in here, mainly because of your work not being up to standard because of your pain, but today was special it seemed. One of his Lieutenant friends had come in to save the day and help out, much to Captain Muguruma’s mixed chagrin and relief. A blonde boy, who reminded you a lot of water. Smooth, quiet, seemingly weightless. Something different to the fire that had burned in your blood. 

You caught Shuhei staring again and you frowned. Standing up straight, you walk over to him.

“You’re looking good, mostly. The text blocks need a little upgrading, though. The wood down the far end is looking a little shabby too. It might be time for a more modern upgrade, but other than that, everything is good. I’m surprised the platen is still going too…” You speak normally for the first time in weeks. It isn’t a complaint. It isn’t filled with suppressed rage. It isn’t said sarcastically. It’s a normal conversation. Shuhei nods and rubs the back of his neck.

“...It might be time for an upgrade, yeah…” He mutters. You can see the thoughts running through his head. For the first time in a while, you see Shuhei, and not Lieutenant Hisagi. You pause for a moment, just watching him.

You know what he’s thinking. You can see the flash of Tosen behind his eyes, thoughts of the man who was a good captain, but in reality a traitor to everything you loved. It was painful. You recalled a time when you sat with Tosen in the garden. You were new to the Soul Society then, a recently graduated Soul Reaper. You’d had a terrible day, and were sitting in the garden, trying to make sense of things. Tosen had come up to you and invited you to join him on a walk. You honestly thought he was going to berate you.

But the man had talked about nonsense for a solid hour. The weather. Ink cartridges. What wood felt best when you had to take a nap on a desk. The feeling of different winds depending on what direction they came from. Never did you think a blind man would be able to talk for so long about the things you either thought weren’t worthy of talking about, or the things you’d never thought of before. For a solid hour, he spoke, you sometimes asking questions. Before you knew it, your mood had improved. Tosen had somehow managed to make you feel better by utterly confusing you. 

It was something you didn’t forget. It’s the reason why you had lashed out so aggressively when he left, your soulmate's tug becoming the source of all your pain once you’d killed as many hollows as possible. A man who had stepped out of his comfort zone to comfort a young shinigami, became almost like a father to you, one of the three greatest traitors in history. It made you scream. It was like he’d thrown you into water to drown, and when you coughed up your lungs, you set things on fire, just to feel the warmth Tosen has once provided to you.

You and Shuhei stood in silence for so long, the air became thick. When he finally looked back at you, a flash of guilt crossed his face. He cleared his throat.

“A new printing press. It’s a good idea. We’d have more time to do other things and we’d be able to…” He trailed off. So you finished his sentence for him, a flicker of your flame reigniting in your chest, hot and furious.

“Move on from the past.”

You two locked eyes. His jaw set and your eyes blazed. For a moment, it seemed like you were both going to draw your zanpakuto and fight, just to feel something other than the rage that followed a betrayal of a man you both admired and respected. A man you both knew as your calm ocean.

Then the door burst open and that blond friend of his walked in. Your tug jumped, but you ignored it. You and Shuhei snapped out of it and turned to the blonde man, who walked in. “Apologies. I’m Lieutenant Kira.” He said to you. You nodded your head in response. He was just being polite. You introduced yourself as well, making sure to be polite. You dodn’t miss how his eyes widened slightly. You frowned a little. Shuhei must’ve ran his mouth again… speaking of Shuhei, he butted in.

“Kira, what’s happening? Is everything alright?” The black haired man asked, concerned. Kira shook his head.

“Captain Muguruma is about to dissect Lieutenant Mashiro. Half the Squad is holding him back.” 

You held back a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. Kira looked at you, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion for a moment before Shuhei started running out of the room.

“Stay here! That little-”

His voice faded as he ran, leaving you and Kira alone. The room was silent again, until you burst out into laughter.

The sound was beautiful to Kira. To him, it was like water falling over stones, so merry and carefree. To you, your laugh felt like a warm flame, not angry or harmful, but merry and calming. It felt like freedom. You kept on smiling even after you were done.

“One of these days, Captain Muguruma is going to kill Mashiro.” You said dryly, chuckling a little more at your own thought. “But only if Shuhei doesn’t get to her first.” Kira chuckled to himself.

“They’re like oil and water…” He said in a tone of false sorrow. He shook his head and then glanced at you. His heart was racing, and his tug felt painful for the first time. It was like time froze as Kira realized his tug was hurting. It felt like someone was ripping his heart out of his chest whenever he looked at you. He stepped away a little, not knowing what to do. 

You looked at Kira again, and for the first time in a long time, you felt light. Like all your burdens had been burned away until only the embers remained. Something you usually only felt in the dead of night, an emotion of calmness and serenity you’d dubbed the ‘midnight flame’. A soft, burning sensation that soothed rather than harmed. You saw something turning behind Kira’s eyes, and the tenseness of his neck.

You recalled how Shuhei had said Kira was a bit antisocial. You’d heard of him before Tosen and the others had betrayed the Soul Society. You hadn’t met, though, due to your own schedule and the fact that Shuhei needed to be babysat while drinking, which wasn’t your favourite thing to do. Out of respect for him, you collected yourself and stepped away a little as well, looking away. Your chest felt so light. For the first time in a long time, it’s like you’re able to breathe without feeling the heavy burden of your soulmates tug. You went to speak again, maybe to break the silence, when Kira fell to his knees.

You paused for a minute, wondering if you should laugh or not. You opted to crouch down where you are and looked at Kira.

“...are you alright?” He glanced at you, his eyes filled with tears. He quickly looked away, clenching his fists over his knees as he tried to focus on anything but the pain. The tug in his chest was too much, this blistering hurt that burns him. You reached out to him, but he exhaled sharply before you could touch him. Your brow creased, and your own tug began to hurt again. An endless cycle for you, one that you couldn’t escape. Your face hardened. ‘I’ll get Lieutenant Hisagi.” A simple decision. You stood quickly and walked out of the room, searching for Shuhei.

You followed the sounds of commotion to see Shuhei and Mashiro having an argument. You were about to step in to ask when he’ll be done, when an errant hand grabed you by the neck and marched you back inside.

“Stay out of it.”

If you had to describe Captain Muguruma, you would call him a blaze. He was a wild-looking man, with the strength of a hundred regular shinigami, and an outrageous sense of style that had inspired Shuhei to get tattoos on his face, of all places. He set you down inside and checked over his shoulder to see if Mashiro was dead yet. Finding the little green girl still alive, he looked back at you.

“Whatever it is, you come to me. I’m your Captain now, not Hisagi.” Muguruma spoke with an annoyed tone in his voice, as if this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with. You recalled every time he barked at you to speed up, or told you to go home and get over it. He was perhaps the worst person who could’ve caught you when you needed help. You swallowed and put on a smile.

“I was just looking to see if it had ended yet.”

“Well, it hasn’t, so get back inside. I heard he left you at the… printing thing.”

“...the printing press?”

“That. Whatever it is, just stay there.”

“We need a more modern one.” “Lieutenant Hisagi is in charge of that. He’ll come to me when he wants one and I’ll give him the funds.” “Well I want to talk to him about what options we have.”

“From what I hear, you’ve been banned from the Communication work until your pain isn’t such a hindrance.”

You fell silent. Muguruma stared down at you with his arms crossed, radiating pure annoyance. You weren’t going to be getting any help from anyone, it looked like. Without another word, you turned away, walking back to the printing room, and a distressed Kira. Your body burned with anger at Muguruma. He only became captain because there was nobody else to take the spot, and because the Soul Society had been desperate for experienced captains. Otherwise, he’d still be rotting in the mortal realm, living his pathetic life, probably getting more piercings. 

Muguruma watched you. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He was being truthful, wasn’t he? He knew you were hindered by something that could be sorted. Why didn’t you take your numerous enforced days off to find the cause of your issue and stop it? Why didn’t you thank him for at least noticing you weren’t doing okay? He looked down at the ground as he scowled. You’re probably just emotional and in pain again. He’d have to give you more space, leave you alone. Your anger was helping nobody. At least when he got angry he had time for it… 

You entered the printing room again, your eyes trained on Kira. He looked a little better. He met your gaze for a moment, and you sighed.

“Lieutenant Kira is busy with Lieutenant Mashiro.” You announced. You walked forward and held out your hand, a gesture that seemed fine for time being. “Let’s get you somewhere that doesn’t house a machine.”

When he took your hand, his face pale and his palm slightly sweaty, it was like a thousand midnight doves erupt from the touch alone.

Such a feeling of fullness filled you. A flurry of soft wings enveloping your entire being, a eruption of a waterfall inside your soul that quenched all anger and pain that led you to salvation. No longer did you crave, no longer did your tug pull at your very being. Water rushed into every part of your soul, filling it with such a lightness you could've sworn at the moment it felt like you were suspended in a great sea, but no risk of drowning was present. 

For Izuru, he felt warmth after the loss of such a crippling pain. Such a hearth bloomed inside him he knew that he would never feel cold during his lonely midnight again. A flame so enveloping inside his being, something so warm and right to fight for, he likened it to a Phoenix. Reborn from the ashes, no longer suffering under cool water. The water in his lung was burned away, and with it, his passion ignited. Such a small thing he felt, something he'd never felt before. Passion. What was it? The kindle burned in his chest, a fire that would never go out. He felt free.

The two of you stared at each other, before Izuru slowly stood, your hands still clasped together, your souls both finally free of searching, of tugging. He was mesmerised by you. You thought of everything you'd been through. 

Fire and water were opposites, and yet no matter which element your soul reflected now, you had to make your peace. 

“...I was in insurmountable pain for a very long time.” You said. A boldness ripped through you. Yet your next words- ”You should make it up to me.” -were stolen from your throat at Izuru, not quite understanding what he was doing in his new passionate delirium, pulled you forward and swept you into a tight hug. On instinct, you responded in kind.

All was silent for a few moments, before Izuru spoke again. His voice was shaky from his nervousness, but his newfound passion simmer underneath it all. He damned himself for being so shy, but this time, he was going to push himself to show you comfort. 

“Never again.” His throat was hoarse. Hands once used for worry and work found their new purpose grasping you close to him. “No more pain.”

No more pain. How you'd longed for that for so long. How you'd longed for midnight under the moon where you didn't feel as if you'd lose your soul to such agony within it. How you'd longed to take it out on him, to scream and yell for the pain he'd unwittingly caused. And yet. Such a cool flow of water filled you, such a rush of comfort from his words washed over you, so much so you couldn't be mad anymore. How could you? How could you be so angry at the person whose first words to you was “never again”?

Izuru finally felt a flash of discomfort from the sudden hug he initiated. He stepped back but slid his hands to your ribs. You suppressed the urge to jump. You had ticklish ribs. He looked into your eyes before looking away, so red in the face he could barely talk anymore. 

For a moment, all was still. Then, in a moment of weakness you'd never felt, a tender kind you wished to explore during softer, quieter midnights, you began to speak.

“...you're-”

With a bang, the door to the printing press room slammed open. 

“I'm sick and tired of leaving you be, and ignoring the pain of someone who's one of my best seated officers-” Muguruma was yelling, but stopped. You turned your head and scowled.

That insufferable prick. 

Your souls, two lost souls now joined in what would blossom into such a pure love ordained by the universe itself, were still fire and water. You two balanced each other. As Izuru found out less than ten seconds later, after you gently pulled away from him, you would need plenty of water to cool down after you had a shouting match with Captain Muguruma. It was such a sight to see that even Shuhei and Mashiro stopped fighting to come and investigate the source of your yelling. To be fair, nobody had ever seen you explode like this. Shuhei and Izuru locked eyes, and as Izuru dissolved into embarrassment, wishing he could hide away, Shuhei felt himself grinning for his friend. 

It did nag in the back of Shuhei's mind on how on earth shy, quiet, water-like Kira was soulmates with the embodiment of sheer rage and hellfire. 

“Opposites attract,” He murmured to himself. Mashiro giggled.

“Maybe Captain Muguruma is soulmates with me if that's the case.” 

“...you're out of you goddamn mind if you think-”

Two fights broke out in the printing press room, both of which Izuru wanted to run and hide from. Yet he couldn't take his eyes off of your form, how you gestured as you and Muguruma argued loudly. He wondered if he should get you a glass of water for your throat. You were certainly yelling loud enough…

Then you drew your sword just as Muguruma did and he decided to leave it be for now. 

At the very least, Izuru could provide you with water during the midnights you would steal in the future, soft kisses that were stolen in the dark, and gentle sighs turned into moans when he finally felt such a flame burn away his gentle water in his soul. Seeing you spent and satisfied brought him more satisfaction and joy than anything else. Afterwards, he always brought you a big glass.

[bleachbleachbleach]

i know we like to snatch bits from the omakes and pretend soul society is a big friendship circle but i think it's hilarious how much they all cannot stand each other. each squad probably has a burn book. i'm rewatching the soul society arc and when you strip it back the seireitei would be MISERABLE to live in - this is 2001 and they don't even have internet! and that's not to mention the slums DIRECTLY OUTSIDE. if i was a member of the main 4 i would have immediately collapsed upon entry due to how rotten the vibes are.

I love the omake and the fun, silly world it presents the Gotei 13 in. However, I do agree with you, in that I don’t think the majority of the Gotei 13 members actually get along. There’s plenty of evidence in the Soul Society arc that actually there’s a lot of animosity between squads.

It's funny--thinking about this ask, I feel like the Gotei captains live two lives amidst each other. On one hand, they don't know each other well; they don't see a lot of each other. No one likes the captain's meetings. Their teamwork was so bad Third Captain Amagai had to be the one to suggest "what if you guys practiced working together tho…" Everyone thought Aizen got straight-up murdered and had his corpse pinned to a building and all his colleagues barely batted an eye! The lack of concern was deafening! I love absolutely all of this. On the other hand, they often seem to respect each other as professionals, even if they have little personal regard for one another. No one likes Mayuri, but they all admit his talent; and at least after the Soul Society arc, in situations where they feel it's necessary, they *will* take orders from each other without expending undue energy getting into pissing matches. (This does not stop Byakuya and Zaraki from fighting *each other* in Hueco Mundo.) I'm really attached to the dichotomy of this; I feel like it gives their contempt for each other a little extra zest, in its specificity. 

Right now I'm writing post-TYBW interactions within the Gotei with the addition of the Vizard captains, and it is SO much fun, because they don't hate each other; but at the same time, everyone's stressed out and deeply suspicious of and/or frustrated with each other, and the benefit of the doubt/presumption of respect is burning off like it's a fire sale, lololol.

The VCs seem to have it together a bit more as a collective, though obviously there are limits to this as well. I think it helps that all the women have banded together until the banner of the Shinigami Women's Association, and that on the men's side almost everyone is at least friends with Renji, even if they may not be friends with each other. I feel like Matsumoto/Nanao (Matsumoto with the power of her extraversion and Nanao with her intense investment in feminism vs. the brass ceiling) and Renji are really holding it down when it comes to inter-division VC relations. The VCs would win the trophy for "best friendships outside their own division" all day--though again, I think a lot of this is quite recent, given Renji being a relatively new VC, Kira and Hisagi only recently bonding more intensively post-Tousen/Ichimaru, and aside from Renji a lot of the VCs being pretty new to the job. I imagine after TBTP the collegiality even in the rosiest parts of the Gotei social scene took a giant nosedive!

We see a lot of Joe Shinigami hating on the 4th (and in the Third Captain Amagai arc, also the 3rd a bit), and we see the 11th being generally antagonistic, but I'd bet that most Joe Shinigami don't interact with people outside of their division all that often, and tend not to think about them at all. Part of me wonders if some of the antagonism against the 4th, aside from drawing on "lol those healer losers" brospeak, has to do with the fact that the 4th is the only division outside of this own that Joe Shinigami actually HAS had repeated interactions with (as a patient). Familiarity breeds contempt, gives the catty muscles something to latch onto, and it all escalates from there.

[animelga]

I saw a post on the Bleach subreddit which asked about which parts of the series people found most disappointing. And a lot of people there obviously said Chad, and I agree - But I want to be more specific. Chad in the Lost Agent arc is some of the most blatant missed potential I've ever seen.

I think its pretty easy to infer that each of Bleach's five arcs focuses on one of its five originally-introduced main characters. This is something my librarian-coded brain adores!! Our lineup, as introduced in Substitute Shinigami, is Ichigo, Rukia, Orihime, Chad and Uryu (Renji gets added to that group later, but ignore that for now). The first two are pretty obvious - Substitute Shinigami introduces us to Ichigo's character and his moral code, what he fights for, what potential he has. Rukia, or more specifically the Shinigami as a whole, are of course the focus of the Soul Society arc - even though she's trapped in a cell for lots of it, characters like Renji, Ganju and Byakuya specifically serve to explore the different sides of her character. Both her and Ichigo are of course important throughout Bleach in its entirety, but these two first arcs put them and their relationships with those close to them in the focus far more than atany point later in the series.

Arrancar arc and TYBW are pretty self-explanatorily Orihime and Uryu-focused, if arguably a bit misguided with TYBW in particular. Even though, again, Orihime spends most of Arrancar stuck in a cell, she shows tremendous growth and maturity, and the entire arc's theming of what it means to have a heart is centered entirely on her. And Uyru...well, Uryu is the center of the conflict in TYBW, despite it definitely feeling underwritten in the Manga. I think thats mainly a result of its rushed pacing by the back half though, and it seems to be getting resolved with the adaptation now. So I'll hold off on Uryu for now - his treatment is salvageable and if nothing else he's always gotten at least one golden moment to shine in all other arcs.

That only leaves Chad and Lost Agent - a perfect fit for one another, and something Kubo himself was pretty clearly going for at the start. Its Chad's disappearance that instigates the drama, he's there with Xcution to help Ichigo regain his powers, and the existence of Fullbring in general elegantly explains where Chad's powers came from in a way that's true to his character (the "pride in the color of my skin" line is still one of his best character moments imo). It is, effectively, an arc built entirely around answering the questions Chad himself asked about his powers back in the Arrancar arc.

And then...nothing. He explains his powers, helps Ichigo, he trains to get stronger in a video game, and...then falls under Tsukishima's mind powers and gets knocked unconscious. Only for the Soul Reapers to show up and do all the fighting again - even characters like Byakuya and Kenpachi, who clearly don't have any material for growth when pit against the Fullbringers, show up just to clean house. To me it reeks of Kubo deciding to include fan-favorite characters toward the end of the arc just to make people happier with it, since Lost Agent in general was so divisive. Though it was obviously earned for Rukia to return in order to give Ichigo his powers back, having everyone else also show up to do the work of other characters for them felt kind of like a slap in the face.

It feels so obvious in hindsight, but Chad and Tsukishima would have been a borderline perfect matchup for a fight to move the arc to a satisfying conclusion. Out of the entire core cast, Chad is the one who feels most motivated by his past to act - he remembers his Abuelo's words, he remembers his times in turmoil with Ichigo, he remembers just how hard he's had it in life and fights to make sure nobody else has to suffer like him. Pitting him against the character able to alter memories would've been a genuinely fantastic challenge of character, and would've made for the most satisfying Chad victory the series could've pulled. Even though Tsukishima isn't Bleach's strongest villain, he's certainly one of its scariest and most potentially dangerous, and Chad's entire personality and design is built around protecting others from such harm.

Instead, Kubo just kind of... procrastinated with Chad, always hinting at more to come, hoping maybe anotber matchup as good as Tsukishima would roll around eventually. Only for him to still gst nothing to do for all of TYBW, and his send-off being to fight some stone statues off-screen.

It's such a shame, imagining what could've been, and remembering just how damn cool Chad is when he actually gets to play with the cool kids.

[unohanadaydreams]

Hi, love your header and what I have to ask is not really related to what you’ve been posting but I’m going to ask it anyway. Do you ever think that all of the quincy and then the survivors of the tybw , Yhwach, and even the one hybrid got done kind of dirty. The survivors were zombies for a bit and then just left alone without anything honestly. Those who died in the wars died for well honestly nothing because their goal was never truly completed. Yhwach who apparently had to feel all the Quincy’s die and go through several wars, is forced into becoming the soul king. Like thousands of years of effort and sacrifice just for Ichibei to hit Yhwach with “Hey, it’s okay if you kill Reio I’ll just kill your son instead.” No wonder Yhwach was so mad, Kubo really fucked the Quincy over.

Oh, for sure.

Yhwach's narrative purpose is to be the inheritor of the Soul King & to contrast Ichigo's trajectory.

Ichigo is the living soul. The human king who has the power of friendship and inner clarity on his side, the usual Shonen business.

Like, we know Yhwach is fucking wretched over how the world has been recast to support Shinigami. That he has lost innumerable people in his aim to regain what the Soul King couldn't protect. And that he has lived with this one, singular aim driving him for over one thousand years. Not only because of the shinigami, but because he views the Soul King as a traitor too, even as his father's hands and heart join him in battle.

I really hated that they added that Ichibei flashback to the anime, because it implies that Yhwach didn't even know what he was fighting for until he saw what Ichibei had done.

One of TYBWs charm points is that its the culminations of a conflict that's been going on for over a thousand years. The reapers are sowing. The quincy are so fractured and disorganized from the culling of their kind that most of Yhwach's army is fresh from the human world and can't fight side-by-side to literally save their fucking lives. Both sides have done irredeemable, fucked things in the name of maintaining/reclaiming their world.

To imply that Yhwach doesn't understand what he's fighting for or that Ichibei was seriously willing to let his army live (LMAFUCKINGO) cheapens that by a lot. Yhwach knows he'll destroy the Soul King. He's seen it.

He's been waiting 1000 years to squeeze the world back into one where his people have a chance in hell at building back up again. I will not be convinced that Ichibei handed him this information and I will Certainly not be convinced that if it wasn't for Yhwach fucking up a peace meeting that the Shinigami would've called quits on hunting down the Quincy. Get real!

And like, this struggle has ruined Yhwach's connection with his people, too. The quincy are no longer people to him (and let's be honest here, mayhaps have never been as we would view other people), but a concept. A People. The Quincy. (Really the only deviation we see from this is Jugram, who he feels a lot of kinship towards.) He treats his people with a detached benevolent attitude that you would expect from a God on high.

His entire life has been running toward where he started; without sight or smell or any senses to speak of, just like the father of everyone, the Soul King.

He's the inversion of a Comedy, where Ichigo is staying to the expected path.

And I really love Yhwach, our beloved doomed prince. Because he comes onto the scene as someone who rips through the Soul Society with ease and starts offing shinigami with his army at a terrifying rate. But in the over arching war, he has been the underdog destined to lose. Because someone has to lose. And it's not going to be the beloved protagonist, because he ripped through the Soul Society with ease and is destined to win.

tl; dr: I view Yhwach having the worst time of his life for pretty much his entire life as a feature instead of a bug. Also boo to some of these anime additions. Boo hiss.

[alexiethymia]

illumination

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

[read on ao3]

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

Soshun mazu sake Ni ume uru Nioi kana

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

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

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

“Shut it, Hisagi-san.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hitsugaya sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, what is it?”

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

Hitsugaya blanched.  

“I’ll give some to Matsumoto.”

…

Momo felt a hand waking her from restful slumber.

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

First sunrise. First shrine visit.

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

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

First smile. First laughter. First friend.

First love.

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

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

‘How do I look, Shiro-chan?’

‘…You look fine.’

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

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

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

How could he even say anything?

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

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

“How do I look, Shiro?”

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

He smiled.

“You look beautiful.”

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

…

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were.

…

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

“Nothing much, just the past.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

Hatsuyuki ya suisen na ha na no tawamu made  

The first snow Just enough to bend The daffodil leaves

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could leave it up to Matsumoto.

…

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

“Shiro-chan, look! It’s snowing!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re perfect.”

…

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

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

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

She hopes.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m off.”

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

He has no words. “Matsumoto…”

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The one and only.”

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

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

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

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

“Nah, just an in-laws spat.”

What the hell?  

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

Hitsugaya didn’t know what was going on.

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

He let it off.

It was a joyous occasion after all.

…

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t at home.

His mind was perfectly blank.

He couldn’t feel her reiatsu anywhere.

“Hitsugaya-taichou!”

What was his seventh seat doing here?

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

‘It might affect…’

“Taichou!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boy

A thunderous sound, more presence than voice. Hyourinmaru

Shiro-chan

Toshiro

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

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

…

In the end, both their wishes are granted.

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

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

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

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

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

He did. They did.

They were all home.

Okaerinasai.

[exo-raskreia]

hi my dear, i have to say i love your blog and how you get over those pitiful ichihime statements

i want to know how will you explain or if you have another post that explains... how time doesn't interfere between ichigo and rukia

bc i always see how ichihime fans say how fucked up their ship is just bc of their age. i mean, we understand that time goes different between both worlds, but it's like they just refuse to understand it

also how it is not so much about age but connection, understanding and equal interests, they also seem to forget isshin and masaki

i'd be glad if you can answer, thank you much for all your posts 😭 it makes it easier to like ichiruki, sometimes ichihime fans just make it so hard, like you're committing a crime

Oh, thank you! ☺️

Antis really think an unrealistic age gap is a problem in a FANTASY or SUPERNATURAL setting? Especially in the Bl3ach universe, where there's already a canon couple with that trope? Doesn't it sound silly?

They act as if Mortal X Immortal ships don't exist, as if they aren't a popular trope/dynamic in many forms of media. They call IR problematic because of it, but turn around & ship pairings like Yato & Hiyori (Noragami), Inuyasha & Kagome, Tomoe & Nanami (Kamisama Kiss), etc. Yet, they cross the line at IR?

They conveniently forget or ignore the fact Ichigo is a product of Isshin & Masaki, a canon couple that the antis support & like to use as "parallels" with their mid ship (even though those of us who can read know IM parallels IR). Isshin was probably way older than Masaki, older than Rukia even, yet once again, the antis cross the line at IR?

Hypocrisy, much? They only bring up the age gap when it's convenient for them. When they want to grasp at straws to invalidate IR. But all their arguments have a counter-argument to them 🤷‍♀️. IR is just that powerful 😌.

Ichigo & Rukia vibed so well right off the bat, getting on a first name basis early on, & often seemed to share the same brain cell 🤣.

Souls in Soul Society age much slower & differently than living humans. Rukia was the equivalent of Ichigo's age, so she was "15" in SS terms when they first met. Antis like to act as if she's some ancient hag or s*x goddess who's going to corrupt poor innocent Ichigo, yet Rukia showed to be quite innocent in many matters, not to mention, she thought kisses were only for greetings in one of the early chapters 💀. Out of the two, I'm pretty sure Ichigo would know more than her in these matters...

(I've also seen this stupid argument against HitsuKarin. They be calling Hitsugaya an "old man"!! Like, seriously?! How is he gonna "corrupt" Karin—by giving her a large stack of paperwork?! He's about 10-11 years old in SS terms, the equivalent of Karin's age, who was 11!! Then they both conveniently aged up to 12-13 after the 17-month timeskip... Just what was Kub0 getting at?!🤦‍♀️)

Not to mention, Ichigo felt very at home in Soul Society & got along so well with all the "ancient geezers & hags" there, even going as far as calling some of them by first name & hanging out with them like old buds (such as Renji). No wonder Ichigo didn't feel like he belonged in the Living World much; he really was born in the wrong generation (or world), lol... 🤪 He always showed to be more in touch with his shinigami side... (no wonder he chose that out of all his hybrid sides in TYBW, & yet... 😮‍💨)

Anyway, don't engage with the antis. Ignore/block/mute them. Follow the age-old fandom rule: just ship & let ship. Don't let the antis ruin your fun. There's so much IR content out there 😄.

[agnessmadness]

“Does this face look like it’s been to the Fountain of Youth?“ (Akina @ Askin post TYBW)

familiar voice of the youth .

he survived from the war .. some fucking how and it also fucking surprise him when he woke up conscious again in the midst of the rain that completely ruins his hair and everything . he also couldn't sense his majesty's spiritual energy no more .. sure that saddens him a bit but .. he really could give less a shit . the only guy that wanted to rule the three realms and make up a new world is gone , but he was still alive , so what he have to do ? live on .

go on and live until the death reach him . don't know when it will but he knows it will one day .

ten years .

is been ten fucking years ever since he was still alive and no , and he means , NOT A SINGLE soul reaper have knew he was one of the Quincy that was still alive . which is great but also not because .. well his life was boring and shit just like the ' good ' ol' days .. goddammit .

but now he was looking right at the familiar face of a woman he have met long ago .. also the girl that he tried and kill one time -

what did he do then ? okay he could run and he actually almost did with his legs but instead he was frozen in place and only turned to look at her .. he look somewhat confused as he blink twice .

" heyyy - long time no see - "

he said as a nervous smile was formed up his face as he slowly took a step back , he was more than ready that if she posed any threat to him then he will run .. and probably never come back to this town again .

[despairforme]

canon questionare.

what made you pick up this character? Nnoitra first became my mood from me drawing him. I was just randomly drawing some Bleach characters one day, and I ( for some reason ) tried drawing Nnoitra, and - I loved drawing him. I became absolutely obsessed with drawing him and he just brought me so much creativity. He is my muse after all. Since I loved drawing him so much, I became interested in his character and re-read and re-watched the canon content for him. Then I decided I should try writing him, and... Well, 9 years later, here we are.

how did you get into this franchise/fandom? My s/o showed me Bleach like 14 years ago or something. I originally wasn't all that interested ( he basically had to force me to watch the first 70 episodes ), but yeah, eventually I got really into it.

what’s the best thing about the show/series/books/comics/etc.? Definitely the characters. I think Bleach has a lot of cool characters, and while I'm not the biggest fan of the main ones, or the story, the side-characters really carry it for me. And, of course - Nnoitra is the best thing about Bleach for me, since I forever love him so much.

what’s the worst thing about the show/series/books/comics/etc.? For me, I don't find the story all that interesting, or the main characters. I did enjoy them more on my latest re-watch of Bleach, because yeah, they really are just teenagers so you gotta cut them some slack. I also really dislike the pacing of the TYBW anime.

what’s the best thing about the fandom? Everyone is so nice!! I've had the most amazing experiences in the BLEACH fandom! Literally everyone is so kind to me. In 9 years I only had a few not-so-nice experiences, but every issue was resolved. I always feel welcomed and taken care of here, so it's like a wonderful safe-space.

what’s the worst thing about the fandom? Hmm... That's a tough one, since I generally think the fandom is awesome. I know some people have had bad experiences, but I think that'll happen in any fandom, so I definitely don't see the BLEACH fandom as toxic. I guess for me, the "worst" thing is the feminization of Nnoitra in fanart, because it's just so off-putting to me ( and Nnoitra ). But I easily avoid that stuff so it's not a big deal. I also dislike self-shippping, but again, I easily avoid seeing posts about self-shipping with Nnoitra.

what’s the best thing about the canon you are writing? Oh boy, where do I even start... It's super hard to choose, because I love everything about Nnoitra. One of the best things would be his independence and his bravery. He just does his own thing no matter what others say. Writing a character like that is really satisfying.

what’s the worst thing about the canon you are writing? I personally love everything about Nnoitra, even his bad sides, because they make him more interesting as a character. Characters without flaws are kinda boring to me. Maybe the "worst" thing about him is that he can be really difficult to approach.

have you tweaked the character from canon? if so, what did you tweak? I do try to stick to canon in my canon verse, though I did give Nnoitra the accent ( I gave it to him in modern/human!au and it just carried over to all his other verses ). Nnoitra is a minor side-character, so "sticking to canon" is really all about your own interpretation of said canon.

are there some things you dislike about how the show/series/etc. portray the character you have picked up? if so, what? No, I love Nnoitra's canon, it's great. I love that he dies so that his canon is "complete". That way I won't have to deal with new information about him being released.

what would you say is the most unique trait about your character? Most unique... I mean, probably how disagreeable he can be. You don't often see a character be this off-putting. Especially with how bigoted he is. It's a very unpopular character trait.

are there any other characters from the franchise you’d like to play? I have written several BLEACH characters in addition to Nnoitra. At the moment I'm also writing Kuchiki Byakuya and Kurotsuchi Mayuri. I have a couple more I'd like to try my hand at, but I'm just not able to fit more muses into my writing schedule these days.

are there some characters from the franchise you can’t stand?  I used to dislike quite a few characters, but over the years I've learnt through interactions on here to see different sides of them. Now I find some of them interesting, and some of them I feel neutral towards. I don't have very strong negative feelings about any characters, but if I had to choose my least favorites, I'd say all the members of 0 Division.

what are your thoughts on the canon ships for the character, if any? The most common ship for Nnoitra is Nnoitra x Nelliel. I personally don't ship this, since I don't see Nnoitra wanting to be in a relationship with her. He'd definitely be interested in something sexual with her, but it would all be incredibly toxic. The second most popular is Nnoitra x Tesla, which, again, I don't personally ship. I can see it as a one-sided thing from Tesla, where he worships Nnoitra while his feelings are not returned. Sure, Nnoitra does care about Tesla, but I don't see Nnoitra being romantically interested.

what is your personal ship bias for your canon character? I prefer crossover ships. I love imagining Nnoitra with characters from other fandoms. I also had a lot of fun shipping my Nnoitra with Lexie's Grimmjow, but I can't see that happening with another Grimmjow.

are there any ships you can’t stand, why? My least favorite ship for Nnoitra is Nnoitra x Kenpachi. It makes no sense to me.

how long have you been writing the character? A little over 9 years.

should people get into the franchise your writing from, yes or no? I have had wonderful experiences with BLEACH, but it's not my favorite show or the franchise I'd be first to recommend.

if you could sum up your character with one sentence, what would it be? "There ain't gonna be no mercy from me."

which song do you feel describes your character the most and why? Oh, tough one. There are so many good songs for Nnoitra. I really like Carnivore by Starset for him.

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tagging : anyone who wants to do it! :D