#hitsuhina fic

[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.

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #bleach #hitsuhina fic #hitsuhina fanfic #bleach fic #bleach fanfic #ensemble cast #lots of new year imagery #this was so self-indulgent but I loved writing it #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina #illumination

[pinkhairedlily]

some hitsuhina snippet for a fic i'll be releasing <3

xoxo

His grip relaxes. There’s likewise a weight off her shoulder. “I should have listened to Matsumoto. I overlooked it.”

She chuckles in agreement. “Whatever advice she gives is always correct.”

“Consider this as reparation.” He lifts their clasped hands and points to a set of lights in the distance. “That’s Aquarius. Bet you don’t know as many constellations as I do.”

“Canis Major.”

“Cygnus.”

“Perseus.”

“Leo.”

They go back and forth like in the olden days. When it seems like they have exhausted the list, Hitsugaya smirks, telling her there’s one constellation left.

“There are only 88. We already said each one.” Laughter bubbles from Hinamori’s mouth.

“No, you missed one.”

Hitsugaya traces with his other hand the moles on her face, his finger ghosting across her skin, each arrival at a mark builds anticipation to his touch, until his palm finally connects with her cheek, and she leans against it like it’s the most natural thing to do.

This is Toshiro, her childhood best friend. She has held his hand before, touched his face, and talked this close to him. He should be familiar, but all of these are new to her. 

“This,” he says in a whisper; a bated breath, a revelation tumultuous with fear, “is my favorite constellation.”

#hitsuhina #hitsuhina fic #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toushirou #hitsugaya #hinamori #bleach couples #i dont know if momo has moles but fiction amirite

[petrichorade]

HitsuHina Fic Snippets

Hi everyone! I didn't bring any art this time, instead: I would like to share a snippet of Hitsuhina fic that I'm currently writing. Here it is;

"...why are you smiling?"

Stirring his drink, he opened his mouth. "Nothing, but it turns out you're not as dull as what Abarai said. I'm honored to know this fact of yours, Hinamori."

Momo giggled. "Same here, Hitsugaya-kun. I didn't expect you'd be this talkative. The way you describe your childhood town makes me want to visit it someday."

"I know, I'm surprised at myself too." Toshiro said.

"Hm?" 

"I've never been someone who's open to others. But when I'm with you, it feels like I can literally talk about everything." He added, before sipping his drink. 

#bleach #momo hinamori #toshiro hitsugaya #hitsuhina #hitsuhina fic #preview #work in progress

[canariie]

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

how to start a fire

Rating: K+

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

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

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

…

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

Word Count: 3670 words

Setting: after the Bleach Anniversary Hell Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hope you all enjoy this!

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like Bakudo #4, Hainawa?”

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

“Is it necessary to recite the full spell?”

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

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

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

“When do you switch hand positions?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know how to do this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

A loud rustle startled Momo from her stupor.

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

There was another sound, a creak.

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

“I’m trying to sleep,” he groused.

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hitsugaya-kun—you forgot—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hitsugaya-kun,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you today.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Rangiku-san put you up to it?”

“Something like that…” he drifted off.

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

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

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

“Then what makes this different?” Momo whispered.

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

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

His eyes widened slowly. “Hinamori…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Until next time everyone :)

#canariie: my fics #only takes a snowstorm for me to get my bearings together and catch up with everything that's piling up #including this fic #i definitely felt rusty but it was like also refreshing to open a doc and be like #oh wow i just had this idea sitting here for so long??? #hitsuhina #momo hinamori #toushiro hitsugaya #bleach fanfiction #hitsuhina gift exchange

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Note that I plan to get to all of these at some point, but I’m looking to see what I should do next. Description for each fic are below the cut.

Sequel to On the Shoreline: written from Momo’s perspective, it’d have how she’s reacted to Hell’s invasion, conversations and shopping trips with Rangiku, a conversation with Renji about their friendship and worrying about Izuru, and of course her trying to get Toshiro involved in beach activities but seeing something is deeply troubling him.

Hitsugaya shows Momo his bankai for the first time: what it says on the tin. It’ll probably be a short one, but I’d want to explore how Momo feels seeing Toshiro achieve something like this, and how Toshiro interprets her reaction, fearing she will be afraid of his power.

The Big One: you all know this one, I’ve mentioned it a few times. A multi-chapter fic about how Toshiro and Momo reconcile after Aizen’s defeat and where they go from there. It’d start a short time before the battle against Aizen, and continue into the events of the battle, then into the year and a half of the aftermath, and potentially into the Thousand Year Blood War arc. It’s be based on a combination of canon, headcanons, and event analysis I have done in the past here and here. It’d also likely include scenes from other fics I have written (such as As Months Go By, As Seasons Change) but rewritten for the fic or told from a different perspective.

It’d be a big project for me, one that could take more than a year to release in full. If this is the winner of the poll, it’d be my sole focus, meaning you may not see as much of writing as frequently, but I will likely write other oneshot fics in between chapter releases to take a break from it every now and then.

Hitsuhina battle fic: this is technically another request from last year, but as the requester is relaxed about me doing it (thank you @whipplefilter!), I’ve had it floating around for a while. I wanted to explore that part of Toshiro we got to see when he was a zombie for Giselle, where he’s completely unrestrained in his fighting…and I wanted Momo there because, you know, angst XD There’s a snippet of it here.

Fifth Division gardening fic: more or less what it says on the tin. It would be mainly from Hinamori's POV and feature snippets of Fifth Division throughout the years, but centered on a group of officers that start gardening in the division. These characters will mostly comprise of my headcanon officers (see them here), and may start from when Hinamori began with the Division all the way to after the Thousand Year Blood War. There's likely going to be a focus on Hinamori's growing sense of responsibility, how her relationships with her subordinates (once her fellow officers) changes the higher up the ranks she goes, and her perception of the duties she has when it comes to the Souls that fear Shinigami. While it'll mostly be centered on the platonic relationships in Momo's life, there will of course be hitsuhina snippets too!

Hinamori realizes her feelings fic: if written, it’ll be in a similar style to To Know Love, Momo gradually realizes her feelings for Toshiro. I plan to keep it short and sweet, but well…it’s me, so chances are it’ll be more than 2000 words XD

Orihime and Toshiro brotp fic: so far I’m envisioning it to be short and sweet, but it’ll look at either one of two (or maybe both) scenarios: either 1) Orihime heals Toshiro’s arm after Aizen’s defeat, and learns what happened in the battle with him and Momo, or 2) they meet sometime during the Full Bringer arc or a short time before the Thousand Year Blood War arc, Toshiro thanks her for allowing him and Rangiku to stay with her during the war against the Arrancars, and they discuss Ichigo. Vague ideas at the moment (and who knows, I may come up with more), but I love this dynamic and I wish it were explored more.

Hinamori is missing fic: a very old idea that recently resurfaced. Set during the Arrancar arc, not long after Toshiro and co. return from the World of the Living after. Momo sneaks out of Fifth Division, unable to stand being inside somewhere that reminds her of Aizen and her life before anymore. When her Division realises she’s missing, they alert everyone. Toshiro eventually finds her, angst ensues.

Tenth Division through the years fic: very similar to the Fifth Division Gardening fic (and they could end up being companion pieces together, see the last option in the poll), in which it's from Hitsugaya's POV and features snippets of his life in the Tenth Division, from when he starts in the Division all the way to after the Thousand Year Blood War. It'll show Toshiro various bonds with those in his division (again, mostly my headcnaon officers, see here) and of course have snippets of Hitsuhina and brotp goodness with Rangiku. The focus will be on Toshiro changing relationship with his offiers turned subordinates as he goes higher up the ranks, and his perception of himself as a child prodigy.

Fifth Division gardening AND Tenth Division through the years fics: a surprise twist entry! >:D As I feel these two would be companion pieces, I wanted to give the option of me working on these two together and releasing them either on the same day or only a few days apart at most.

#bleach #hitsuhina #fanfiction #I liked how the last poll turned out #so I want to try it again! #thank you again to everyone who voted in the last one #hoping editing on the Shinji fic isn't going to take long

[darkroguescribe]

There is 1 fanfic I always find myself rereading over and over again: Watashi no Kokoro: My Heart

It is beautiful.

It is perfect.

It is more than 200k.

It hasn’t been updated since 2014 💀

#hitsuhina #bleach #fanfic #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #why are all the good fics incomplete?

[el-yon]

new chapter is up!

ichihime and the gang graduate - there are tears, smiles, lots of fluff and comfort to wrap holiday season.  There is also a bit of renruki, and a tiny bit of a hitsuhina crumb-bonus in the end.  Read at Ao3 , and hope you enjoy (:

#bleach #fic #Orihime Inoue #ichigo kurosaki #ichihime #renruki #hitsuhina #tease #karakura gang #i mean it: there are tears #graduations bring up snot #this chapter lacks karakura gang love as it focus more on ichihime BUT #for anyone interested #there will be a polycule karakura gang chadishiichihime on the next few months #i vow

[beholdthemem]

On one hand I don't have the patience for the kind of people who declare themselves the judge of what does or does not qualify as 'problematic' in a ship, because I've noticed that it inevitably seems to boil down to 'You don't ship the thing that I do, and I don't think that ships besides mine should exist' using progressive sounding buzzwords that kind of fall apart the minute you investigate them closer. ('That's pedophilia!' Two year age gap between an 18 and 20 year old. 'You're homophobic!' Shipping a bisexual dude with a female character.)

On the other hand, I also do not have the patience for the type of people who unironically use the word 'antis' when talking about people who don't like their ship, because every one that I have ever talked to has the BIGGEST fucking victim complex about shipping something unpopular and seems to consider themselves genuinely oppressed because of it to the point where I want to be like

#personal #it's just two different flavors of Too Invested In Fandom Please Go Outside #i promise you both THERE IS MORE TO LIFE #TOUCH GRASS I AM BEGGING YOU #words mean things. 'pedophilia' 'homophobia' etc- those have ACTUAL MEANINGS and YOU HAVE USED NONE OF THEM CORRECTLY. #which i *know* you know. #and then on the other hand it's like... #jfc SOMETIMES PEOPLE THINK THE THING YOU LIKE IS GROSS. THAT SUCKS BUT IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. #GROW UP. #bitch i shipped HitsuHina and GAAMATSU in the 2000s/early 2010s #on FANFICTION.NET. #you know how many death threats you were likely to get per perfectly tame fic containing either of those? #on deviantart?? #you don't wail about what a martyr you are to have to deal with it you roll your eyes ignore it and MOVE ON. #buddy on tumblr you can fucking BLOCK PEOPLE! we did not have that option in ye olde FFN days! #THE BLOCK BUTTON IS YOUR FRIEND. BLOCK. AND. MOVE ON. #you know how many people I've blocked in the past two months? #neither do i because i no longer bother keeping track #somebody says something rude to me about the thing i like and then i block them and move on with my fuckin day. #10/10 would recommend.

[nightjarred]

i just learned at my mandarim class that the plum tree/plum flowers are one of the "five knights among the flowers", and it symbolizes the coming of winter and the cold itself. Not me reminding instantly of HyouTobi, right?

#hyoutobi #hitsuhina #hinamori momo #hyourinmaru #tobiume #my favourite hitsuhina fic of all time its not even hitsuhina #its a hyoutobi fic from 2010 #i use to read it again and again #its called sete passos and its on fanfiction net #just in case anyone is wondering

[floodkiss]

Hitsuhina Gift Exchange 2022 @hitsuhina-week for @rays-of-fire-and-ice

I frequently find myself thinking about the panels where hitsuguya returns to the battlefield clad in quincy uniform and they make eye contact, as well as him reaching his mature form saying, “I don’t really like this form at all”, and the byakuya commenting on his bankai taking a heavy toll on his body (after helping rukia). TYBW was pretty rushed, so I decided to draw a “missing moment” - a tearful reunion on the battlefield, hinamori catching an exhausted hitsuguya who has reached his limit. I hope you like it, thank you for organizing this, i can’t wait to read all of the fics and look at all of the art ♡ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

#hitsuhina gift exchange 2022 #BLEACH #hitsuhina #momo hinamori #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach fanart #artists on tumblr #toshiro fanart #hinamori fanart #hitsuguya fanart #TYBW #bleach tybw #anime #fanart #my art

[alexiethymia]

excerpt from the next chapter of realization

Momo had always loved the snow. 

She loved how the world would suddenly be covered in a pristine white blanket when it snowed in Jurinan, the delicate and beautiful snowflakes, and most importantly, she loved diving into it, spreading her arms wide as she looked up at the vast, cloudless sky. 

“Stupid bedwetter, get inside already. Don’t blame me if you get a cold because you were playing around hardly wearing anything.”

Momo half-turned to face her childhood friend and grinned. She called back cheerfully, “You know I hardly get sick, Shiro-chan!” 

Shiro-chan scoffed. “That’s because idiots don’t get colds.” 

“Mou,” she pouted. Really, Shiro-chan could be a bit mean sometimes. And anyway, he wasn’t one to talk. At least Momo was wearing her hanten, scarf, and waraji. Shiro-chan was only wearing a scarf baa-san wound tightly around him, thrice around his small neck as if it would be enough protection since he’d ventured out in only his yukata and geta. 

Neither she nor Shiro-chan were really affected by the cold the way other people were. That was why even in the coldest of gales where their breaths would come out of wisps, they could still go out and play while the other children and adults stayed inside. Shiro-chan was already cold although Momo was careful not to say it out loud lest she hurt him. Not that he would let it show. He’d just shrug but Momo would know anyway. 

What she means though is that Shiro-chan’s touch was just a touch cooler than anyone else’s. On one of those rare times she’d been sick, Shiro-chan had hesitated before putting his hand on her forehead. She’d gasped and he’d snatched his hand away as if she’d burned him, but she’d hastily grabbed his arm to keep his hand on her head. She sighed in relief. It was better than the wet cloth that had been used to cool her down. Shiro-chan’s touch was like a drop of spring water. 

Momo loved summers, the watermelons and the fireworks all, but although she didn’t hate the heat as much as Shiro-chan, she had a habit of hugging him close during the hottest days. It was only a short relief though because he’d immediately scramble out of her grasp. 

“Idiot! It’s already hot. And you especially, make it even hotter.” 

She pouted. It wasn’t Momo’s fault her natural temperature ran higher than most. 

“I’ll return the favor,” she promised, “You can hug me too when it gets colder in winter!”

She must have held onto him longer than she thought for she noticed him burning up and sweating, before once again spewing insults and shouting that he wouldn’t since he didn’t get cold anyway. 

But sometimes he’d get her some shaved ice when the heat got so bad that she could only lie down, and when she sat nearer than usual while they ate watermelon, he’d grumble silently but didn’t push her away. 

He never took her up on her offer though, only consenting when baa-san was between them and the both of them would huddle on either side of her, sometime with a blanket over the three of them. 

Momo loved the snow because she thought it was perfect for her. If Shiro-chan didn’t get cold, Momo only felt warm lying down in the snow. It was perhaps strange that something so cold could feel so warm to her, it was like she was enveloped in an endless blanket. She felt safe and protected. 

It was also why she couldn’t help but keep on ruffling Shiro-chan’s hair even as he scowled and told her to cut it out. She’d been expecting that his hair would be spiky like a lion’s mane or an angry hedgehog, but his hair had been the softest thing that she’d ever touched. He hated its color because it set him apart from everyone else, but Momo had always thought that that was what made it beautiful. 

Perhaps touched with a burst of impatience, Shiro-chan drew nearer to where she was lying down and making wide arcs with her arms and legs. “What the heck are you doing anyway?”

She smiled brightly at him as she answered, “Snow angels!”

From her place below, she could him raise a brow in confusion. Nonplussed, she mused, “I wonder if shinigami-san are like angels. I mean they save souls and bring them to Soul Society after all.” 

Shiro-chan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, one over the other. “They’re death gods. They don’t save anyone, and this isn’t heaven.”

Momo only smiled at him, as he looked back at her confused. What she wouldn’t tell him was that even if this wasn’t heaven, she found him or perhaps would it be better to say that he found her? Either way, it was good enough for her. She says instead, “Maybe you’re right. Shinigami-san are black and angels are white. Shinigami-san also don’t have wings and you can’t be an angel without wings,” she nodded decisively before laughing light and free at the look of exasperation on Shiro-chan’s face.  

Before he could say anymore though, she pulls him into the snow with her. Spluttering, he looks mad as he glares at her before smirking and launching a snowball into her unsuspecting face. 

That past conversation drifts in and out across the years as that little boy who had shot snowballs at her eventually grew to become a shinigami captain, cloaked in white and valiant wings of ice gliding and slicing across the cloudless sky. 

She’s lying down once more, but this time she’s battered and broken, as she stares up at the sky. It’s snowing once again, but this time he’s the one making it snow and bloom deadly flowers. 

It’s beautiful.

Suddenly she’s in his arms and though she feels mind-numbingly cold, the kind that freezes her blood (she’s never felt this cold before), all she sees is breaking wings (in time with her heart). In the dimming light, she spies snowflakes in his eyes but they do not fall. 

Dazedly, she wants to ask, ‘Angel-san, why are you crying?’, but the shadows overcome the light and she is no more. 

Another scene, another image, and she is once again in his arms after being thrown about like a ragdoll in the wind. She is there, safe and secure, as Hitsugaya-kun slows down their fall with the even tempo of his wings. 

“Hinamori, are you alright?”

In reply, she smiles, and only draws closer seeking warmth. 

“I’m fine. Thank you, Shiro-chan.”

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #bleach #hitsuhina fanfic #hitsuhina fic #bleach fanfic #bleach fic #fanfic #fic #realization #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina #punts this off into the void to give me motivation to finish the next chapter

[pinkhairedlily]

what did you ask for? (to be with you)

A GIFT FOR @canariie | AO3 LINK

Hitsugaya stares at her as if she’s speaking in tongues. He turns his attention back to the more scenic sight, missing the look Hinamori gives him. She’ll describe it as longing, in a much later time when they’re all grown up. Today, as they finish dinner with his grandmother, she’ll break the news. It will be the first time that he'll become uncomfortable with winter. His seasons, previously enjoyed with performative nonchalance, will lose color and comparatively feel dull than any others before.

“Hurry!”

Hinamori can barely keep up with Hitsugaya’s strong, nimble limbs. She might be older (if we assume by height), but their ages might not be too far apart for her to be breathless like this.

It’s the cold, Her exhale immediately gets lost in the curtain of thick fog. She relies on her feet and muscle memory and the numerous indentations left by fellow dwellers to not veer off the trail. At the peak, there is a statue, and while West Rukongai does not necessarily worship, there is a belief that the stones molded into shape will grant your prayers, only that you have to climb it on the first day of snowfall.

Which turned out to be in the negatives today.

And yet, Hitsugaya is conquering the cotton killer fluff with a sleeveless undershirt and blind faith. He is warm where she is cold, and this natural affinity to adapt in harsh conditions stirs a foreign envy in her.

“Slowpoke!” His voice almost a howl. “We need to get back before my afternoon nap!”

“Shut up!” She yells back. It’s her folly, she guesses, to miss the crevice and slip against the crack. It’s a steep fall, her mind registers. I’ll probably die.

Calloused hand thrusts out from the icy veil to grab her wrist, followed by a grin so cheeky it can only be from someone indomitable.

When they reached the top, his sight was first grabbed by the sea of clouds while hers was the statue. It was simply a pile of rocks stacked on top of one another in dubious balance, but it managed to weather the biting wind, as well as the gasping heat and the torrential rains that came seasons before. Hinamori held her head down and prayed to this resilient structure.

“What did you ask for?”

“Be like this statue,” she replies, a bit lost in thought, “despite the changes.”

Hitsugaya stares at her as if she’s speaking in tongues. “You should have asked for a good harvest and lots of watermelons!” He sticks out his tongue in usual childhood annoyance and turns his attention back to the more scenic sight, missing the look Hinamori gives him. She’ll describe it as longing, in a much later time when they’re all grown up.

But today, as they finish dinner with his grandmother, she’ll break the news. “I’m going to Soul Society.”

It will be the first time that Hitsugaya becomes uncomfortable with winter. His seasons, previously enjoyed with performative nonchalance, will lose color and comparatively feel dull than any others before.

When Rangiku, his future lieutenant and his would-be confidante, finally sniffs him out due to his uncontrollable reishi, Hitsugaya sets in plan his destiny in Seireitei. After all, Hinamori wasn’t the only one to make a wish to that statue on that day.

A childhood plea but a sincere intention all the same.

To be together, even for a little longer. Despite the changes.

—--------------------

“Do you have a gift for me, Captain Histugaya?” Rangiku plays up her doe eyes at him.

He closes the file on his desk. “No, I don’t believe in consumerism.”

“Oh come on, it’s Christmas in the human world. You should at least live a little.”

“Said someone who left me with a mountain of administrative tasks to be done. Because of you, I can’t live a little.”

Rangiku claps her hands together and leans towards the door for an unexisting sound. “Yeah? No, I’ll be out in like five seconds tops!” She turns her attention back to him, though one foot is already near the exit. “Captain, I forgot I have a very important appointment to go to. Bye!”

He rolls his eyes, partly annoyed, but mostly relieved he can finally enjoy some moment of silence. Seconds into that serene atmosphere, consecutive knocks arrive at his space.

“Matsumoto—!”

“—Shiro-kun! Oh, did I catch you at a bad time?” Hinamori steps out of the doorframe, her small frame accentuated by the absent Gotei regalia. Her hair, usually held in a low bun, is loose, silky black strands settling just below her shoulders. She wears clothes which his lieutenant might describe as cozy conservative, and carries a wicker basket as if the season outside is the tranquil spring. Against the stark rigidity of his bureaucratic office, she stands in contrast.

“No,” he manages to say. It takes him a minute but he reaches her side, a few inches short below her height, and takes the basket out of her hands. “Is this lunch? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me?”

“Well, Rangiku passed by our division and asked me to give you a lending hand,” she chuckles.

“And you were able to prepare all this food in under ten minutes?”

She shrugs and pretends not to notice the absurd logistics of her excuse, but Hitsugaya lets it pass. It benefits him to not ask questions and simply revel in her presence. 

It’s a spread of all his favorite things, most notably natto and watermelon slices, while she takes out a box of tuna onigiri, freshly baked cookies and green tea. Quintessential Momo.

Like the olden days, they eventually settle into that easy familiarity. With the basket emptied and thermos dried out, Momo pulls out another surprise.

It’s a miniature of the West Rukongai forest inside a glass ball.

“I had it customized.” She beams widely. “Go on, shake it.”

Hitsugaya smirks at the almost childlike gesture but indulges her anyway. Flurries of white envelopes all space, mimicking winter in the place they first called home. A snow globe.

“It’s—” he chokes up, “—it’s all right.”

“You should sound more awed, you know.”

“This is my best effort, Momo.”

He swears he hears Hyourinmaru laugh alongside Hinamori. It takes a lot of effort to stay unaffected even though his heart almost feels like leaping off the very same cliff he once saved her from. He takes several breaths, waiting until the snow settles on the bottom, before he takes out his gift.

“Here.” He pulls out a knitted red scarf from the bag and scoots closer to her. She must have sensed his hesitancy or he might have hallucinated the way she leaned closer to him so he could wrap the scarf around her neck. His fingers linger on both ends of the fabric. “Since you always have a cold bug.”

The scarf’s color bounces off Hinamori’s cheeks. In a quieter voice, “Th-Thanks, Shiro.”

Still holding on, he replies, “It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

“—Hey Toshiro, I’m really sorry! I came back early to help—” 

They scramble away to the farthest corner possible in the short time Rangiku shows up.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” His lieutenant zeroes in on the bright color. “That’s a pretty nice scarf, Momo-chan. It perfectly suits you.” 

Hinamori rushes to the door in haste without glancing at him. “No worries, I was just leaving. I only brought him a meal.” She stops just before the doorframe swallows her. “Thank you, Shiro-kun.”

He can hear the smile in that last word, and ever so deftly, his lieutenant catches it too, even the subtle lift of his lips in cognizance.

“I thought you didn’t believe in consumerism, huh?” Rangiku presses.

“You mentioned helping?”

—--------------------

“This is a character development,” Rangiku brandishes Hitsugaya as if he’s a centerpiece.

“The last time I invited him, he stayed holed up in my room,” Ichigo echoes. “It’s a good thing you could come, Hitsugaya.”

He could only grumble. He hates crowds, but even more so crowds during Christmas. Humans are so obsessed with ephemeral things like celebrations. His displeasure, however, does not dampen their rowdy party: Ichigo, Orihime, Chad, Uryuu, Rukia, Renji. Rangiku, Kira, Shinji, and Hinamori. A mismatched group but still whole, before the world crashes down on them the next few months.

He carefully side-eyes his childhood friend. She looks better, happier even, ever since Shinji arrived. In place of her long hair is a short bob underneath a dark plum beret. She doesn’t wear the scarf he gave ages ago, not after he stabbed her, not after that time when he thought he lost her. The snow globe is tucked in the first drawer of his table. He takes a peek every morning and watches that side of the world stuck in time.

“You’re gonna fall behind.” It’s Hinamori’s voice. They’ve kept their distance, described at best as amicable, recognizing each other’s presence only through a nod of a head, so this is her first direct reference to him with the many layers of conversation peeled back bare.

Hitsugaya freezes on his heels while the rest of the people move forward. Someone ahead of them shouts, spotting a celebrity, and the number triples in seconds. He wants to go to her.

“Captain—” Hinamori resists the surge of movement. “Shiro-kun, what are you doing?” She shoulders her way against bulky figures, but she’s too petite and she stumbles backward to be engulfed by the sea of motions.

His instinct kicks in and he catches her, his grip finding anchor on her waist. He pulls her to the curb where there’s enough space to breathe. “Shinji or Rukia must have noticed our reishi separating from their group. They’ll find us soon.”

He glances at her and finds her unshaken. In the chaos, she lost her beret, and all of her hair is now swaying in the night breeze. “That’s all right.”

“It’s my fault. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No worries. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“To be away from the crowd. It’s more peaceful in this corner.”

Hitsugaya nods. “It’s good that you could come.”

“Ah I was peer-pressured mostly by Renji and Rangiku,” she softly laughs. “Captain Shinji also said it would be nice to go out and have fun.”

He sighs, “Too bad you couldn’t have fun now.”

She lightly shoves him, still laughing against her mittens. “Don’t be silly. I’m having fun now. I’m with you.”

He hears his own sharp intake of breath and his eyes hyperfixate on the minute details of her face, the way her eyes remain on the streets, how the changing lights reflect on her irises, her lips chapped from the cold, the little braid behind her ear. “Momo, you should stop doing that.”

She turns to him slowly, and he realizes how red her cheeks are. “Doing what?” She must be so cold.

“Making my heart—”

“Hey you two!” Ichigo shouts across the street. Beside him is Chad who basically towers over everyone and ultimately serves as their beacon for direction.

 “Oh they found us. You were right, Shiro.” She suddenly scrambles to get to them. 

“Wait for me, Momo.” Hitsugaya grabs her hand just before she ventures into the moving cluster of humans. “I might get lost again.” He sees Shinji catching his act, smirking as he confirms his long thought out theories about the two of them.

He plans to let go of Hinamori before they reach the whole group, but the tower clock suddenly strikes twelve, followed by a clamoring of bells and fireworks. Squeezed against warm bodies, it registers to Hitsugaya and Hinamori that everyone is kissing.

Someone nudges him forward. “Yo dude, you should kiss your date. It’s tradition.”

He’s suddenly weightless, reeled in by some force of gravity. In hindsight, he should’ve let go of Momo, shoved her backwards, or redirected his body as if in battle. But this is human world, and he is riding on some ephemeral happiness, and so he stumbles against her, shoulder to shoulder, and his lips graze her cheek.

He waits for a slap, a reprimand, but Hinamori looks out of breath as well. He loosens his grip, gives her an out if she wants to, but it’s her fingers that wrap against his this time.

“They’re looking for us.”

“Momo.”

“Hmm?”

“I— Someone pushed me—”

“I know. I saw.”

“Huh?

“I saw it, Shiro-kun,” she smiles, “so please don’t say sorry.” 

She saw, Hitsugaya thought, which meant she had every chance to move. “Huh?” This won’t be the last time he’ll be out of words in front of her.

“Merry Christmas, Captain Hitsugaya.” Then she lets go of his hand.

—--------------------

“Humans are sure fond of merrymaking.”

They find themselves in the same place many years after, when the worst was finally over and the aftermath of the battles have become simply a memory, navigating the maps of human bodies and still finding a place beside each other. Hinamori thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle—to come out of the wreckage and remain unchanged (in whatever this is, she adds in her head).

They decided, on a whim, to visit the human world. Spontaneity is a foreign concept, both of them so used to rigidity of routines and structures, but somehow there has always been an exception in moments where it concerns the other. The group they went with before is leading their separate lives. They are busy making memories and seizing the present, heightened from the cusp of losing the privilege of existing. 

It is this sentiment that they are riding tonight—the possibility of missing a chance—though this, they may never admit out loud.

“Are you regretting it now, Shiro-kun?”

“The crowd, yes,” he replies in all honesty, brows furrowed, lips in a tight line. Then he glances at her and everything softens with a rare smile. “That doesn’t include you.”

“Good, I really wanted to see the fireworks,” she reasons.

“Haven’t Shinji taken you several times?”

“They’re always different. They change colors, sometimes they have patterns too.”

He chuckles beside her, and something behind him catches her attention. Stragglers hang thin strips of paper with their handwriting on the bare branches of a large tree. Hinamori tugs on Hitsugaya’s sleeve, and he catches her off guard by holding her hand and pulling her to the activity area.

“I might lose you,” he says under his breath. (Did you know, Momo, it was the same words he uttered when he faced Aizen and when he battled without Hyourinmaru? He could never lose you.)

She looks at the writings holding the people’s many wishes into the universe for the coming year. Human lives are short compared to those like them who could live out centuries. The intentions varied from simple (‘I want a boyfriend!’) to more complex ones (‘I want to be finally happy’). Hinamori considers how happiness is subjective across souls, and how, right at this moment, she could describe herself as happy.

“What are you writing?” Hitsugaya asks her. “I already put mine up.”

“Huh?” She surveys the papers in front of them. “That’s unfair, I didn’t get to see it.”

“I don’t think you need to see it.” He turns a shade of red. “It’s personal.”

She relents with a sigh. “You probably wrote longer nap times.” She turns her back on him as she quickly scribbles the first thought that comes. Hitsugaya tries to appear uninterested but she can see him in her periphery stealing glances over her shoulder. It’s a good thing that she remains taller than him.

“Ha! Done!”

“Well, that’s unfair,” he echoes.

Their banter gets interrupted by a loud trumpet, followed by a clock ticking down to midnight.

“Oh, it’s happening!”

The lights on the ground turn off to emphasize the dark night sky. 

“Ten…night…eight…seven…”

Hitsugaya chooses to set his gaze on her. “Did you remember that tradition..?”

“Six…five…four…”

“Yeah, I remember.” Hinamori tears her eyes from the sky and stares back at him against the darkness.

“Two…one… Happy New Year!”

“Can I kiss you?”

She sees Hitsugaya’s face lean in just as the fireworks start their ephemeral performance. The air is crisp with winter air and firecracker smoke, and she’s combusting when his lips find hers underneath the bursts of light.

He pulls away in mere seconds, and she can see the gears of his mind work towards an overdrive. He is second guessing and wondering if it was enough, if he could ever be enough, and she wants to tell him—

“Yes.” And she pulls him to her again and kisses him back with certainty. When it’s all over, the people have scattered, the sky has retreated to its shadows, and she’s still in his arms.

“Happy New Year, Momo.”

—--------------------

Hinamori finds it’s the afterparty she looks forward to the most. Long after all the plates have been washed, the cups flipped to dry, and the doors locked, the silence basks in the traces left from the evening’s friendly noise.

They managed to clear majority of the clutter, but strips and pieces of litter remain scattered about—ribbons, gift wraps, firecracker ashes—a nice chore best reserved for the first day of the new year.

“Our dear hostess must be tired.” Hitsugaya’s hands ease on her shoulders and massage the tight knots that have accumulated over the day. 

“Come on Shiro. I know the kids drained your energy today.” She stifles the bubbling laughter from a recent memory of when Renji’s and Ichigo’s respective toddlers ran amok across the courtyard and Hitsugaya had to chase them off his rock installations.

“They’re not toddlers.”

“And they’re also still kids.”

The winter breeze lands on her skin and she shivers at the contact. Her husband pulls her to the kotatsu, entangling her legs with his underneath, a fairly good excuse to just snuggle and burrow and pretend to hibernate (at least until the weekend’s over).

They’re sitting across the wide windows where they’re afforded a rare view of a perfect night sky, a blank charcoal slate after being painted with bursts of colors from earlier festivities. The moon and stars are cruising in a silent voyage to an audience of two. 

Well, three.

Hotaru manages to crawl on Hitsugaya’s lap and juts out his nose for a boop. He brings with him Hinamori’s red scarf, frayed from several wears, and is now his favorite blanket. She reaches over and indulges their blind, snow-colored cat. Seemingly happy, his paws start making biscuits while his purrs lull them into a much awaited slumber.

Soon enough, the heavens open up to a muted shower of snow. It is a familiar sight, a nostalgic picture of their childhood home, a picture contained in a glass globe from a long ago gift.

Hinamori almost falls asleep with her head on his shoulder, but her eyes quickly catch the stroke of bright light across the sky.

“Momo, make a wish,” Hitsugaya whispers against her hair.

A moment passes. “Done.”

“So, what did you wish for?”

She looks at him, baffled. “You always ask for that!”

“I can’t help it if I’m curious.”

“No.”

He changes tactics. “Okay, I’ll offer you an olive branch. One wish of mine to one of yours.”

“That’s unfair. I always wish for the same thing.”

“Since when?”

“Since we went on that mountain.” Hinamori considers the length of time she knows him, the gravity of memories and circumstance, and the very privilege of having that prayer answered. “I asked for the very same thing I’m wishing for right now.”

She sees how he recalls the moment, watches how the playfulness of his features soften into that of understanding and gratefulness. It had been that long.

“To let us stay in each other’s lives, not for a while, but longer, maybe forever-kind-of-long.”

To be together, even for a little longer. Despite the changes.

“Hmm.” He smiles and then chuckles. “Did you know I asked whatever god there was that day to let me stay with you? It was selfish and unreasonable, especially knowing you really wanted to go. After you left, it sought out many other mountains. I looked for the rest of the shrines, all the genuine and the makeshift, and prayed the same prayer. It turned out I managed to get through to at least one god.”

She could only stare in disbelief. “Wow.”

“What—you never thought I had it in me?”

She shakes her head and laughs. “You were always so tenacious, Shiro.”

“We have this year.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on her lips. “And the next and next and next and next.”

“And the rest of our lives.”

@hitsuhina-week

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #toushirou hitsugaya #hitsugaya #hinamori #bleach fanfic #bleach fic #hitsuhina gift exchange 2023 #fic!pinkhairedlily #fic!pseudolily #sorry this got delayed so much #a belated happy 2024 to all (but not for me regretfully)

[summercreolefanfictioner]

finally updated chap 2 of my hitsuhina fic 🥰🥹

here's the link:

you're all welcome

#bleach #bleach tite kubo #bleach momo #bleach toshiro #hitsuhina #toshimomo #hitsuhina fanfiction #hitsuhina fanfic #toshiro hitsugaya #hitsugaya toushirou #hitsugaya toshiro #hinamori momo #momo hinamori

[canariie]

the boyfriend sweater

Rating: K+

Synopsis: Toushiro passed through the thin dress shirts and found the fall items, his eye skimming through the hoodies and pull over sweaters. Instinctively he wanted to choose the black and darker clothing but found himself second guessing the colour. Hinamori likes colourful things, so maybe I should pick brighter? He shook his head, grumbling at the amount of pressure he felt. She said she liked the other shirt because it reminded her of me—don’t think too hard about this.

…

Toushiro fails to understand the concept of the “boyfriend sweater”

Word Count: 1770 words

Setting: during the time skip, before the epilogue of Bleach (probably 3 years after the last chapter)

Authour’s Note: Hello hello! it’s been a while :) This short little sequel fic was inspired by several reviews from i just called to say that I finally got around to sitting down and finishing it up! I was so taken back by all the love that that fic received that I really wanted to write a little sequel for it! Also thank you to everyone who submitted requests! Between writing for Hitsuhina week, Celebrate Bleach event, and my fic requests I got a lot of writing to do this summer haha Please bear with me as I work on them but I will promise to respond to everyone :)

Enjoy!

—

“Matsumoto—where are the catalogues for the Living World clothes?”

Rangiku looked up at her captain with a raised eyebrow. “In the storage drawers—but Taicho, why do you want it now?” The 10th captain had never expressed interest in choosing his own clothes, and usually had left it up to her to pick, just giving her short remarks as feedback of what he liked or not.

“Well,” Toushiro paused, carefully trying to think of a sufficient explanation without further questions. “We may be sent to the World of the Living soon for survey missions—and I have outgrown my clothing.” He had easily shot up half a foot in height, so all of his previous articles had long grown short for him.

But the real reason why he wanted to look at the catalogue was because of his childhood friend.

Momo had been going to human world to spend time developing her kido training with the human girl, Orihime and the former kido general corps Haachi—leaving her extended with stays on the other side. During this time, they had been calling each other in the absence of physically seeing each other. It was something that Toushiro found himself looking forward to; even though they were in two different worlds, it felt like their relationship was being mended and transforming into something new.

During one of these calls, Momo had let it slip that she had been sleeping in his old shirt—which scrambled his mind in a way he hadn’t known possible—leaving Toushiro to promise her that he would give her something that would fit her better (since he was now around the same height as her).

And while Toushiro knew that they were becoming closer with each other, he didn’t want to assume anything that would jeopardize their current relationship—especially considering how they had strayed from each other for a while.  

Toushiro lifted to his eyes to see his lieutenant standing in front of his desk, a skeptical look in her blue eyes. “Here’s the catalogue. I have to leave for a lieutenant’s meeting but just place a note of which one you like and I’ll order it later.”

He took it from her, trying not to seem to eager. “Thank you, Matsumoto.”

When the door shut, he quickly opened up the paper book, sifting through the pages. It gave him greater sense of accomplishment that he could finally order from the older section (something that Matsumoto had great fun with earlier when she picked out clothes from the junior section and he had to immediately reprimand her to order less childish prints).

As he flipped through the catalogue, he couldn’t help his mind straying to thinking about the fifth lieutenant. It’ll probably be colder now since they’re approaching autumn. Toushiro passed through the thin dress shirts and found the fall items, his eye skimming through the hoodies and pull over sweaters. Instinctively he wanted to choose the black and darker clothing but found himself second guessing the colour. Hinamori likes colourful things, so maybe I should pick brighter? He shook his head, grumbling at the amount of pressure he felt. She said she liked the other shirt because it reminded her of me—don’t think too hard about this.

With that thought, he found a dark blue pullover sweater that he knew would fit him well and placed the book on Matsumoto’s desk.

 ---

Fortunately for Toushiro, Matsumoto ordered it quickly and came right on time before Momo had her next trip to the Living World. He was able to finish all his work just in time to hurry over to the departure site, with the bag in hand, right as the fifth lieutenant was about to step through after finishing debriefing with one of her division officers.

“Hinamori!” Toushiro called out.  

She turned around and he could feel his racing heart quicken as her warm brown eyes widened in surprise. “Hitsugaya-kun,” Momo she said softly. “What are you doing here?”

What exactly am I doing here? Toushiro eyed the division officer, who seemed to have gotten the message and turned around, removing himself from the proximity of the two childhood friends.

“I…wanted to say bye to you—before you left,” Toushiro explained lamely. The brown-haired girl blushed and she smiled sweetly at him. “Oh, you shouldn’t have gone to the trouble! I know how busy you are and it’s late.”

Toushiro cleared his throat. “…I also had something to give to you.”

At her wide-eyed expression, he thrusted the bag towards her. “You said you wanted something of mine to wear,” Toushiro explained, and he inwardly cursed at how weak and awkward he sounded.

He could only watch as she took it carefully, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she pulled out the pullover sweater.

“Wow! This is perfect!” Momo looked at him with a beaming smile. “Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun!”

He could feel his ears go red and he looked to the side. “It’s Hitsugaya-taicho,” he corrected and then cleared his throat. “But you’re welcome—now you can have a sweater that fits and hasn’t been worn before.”

“What?” Momo looked down at the article in her hand. “This is new…?”

Toushiro raised his eyebrow. “Yeah, why would I give you something used?”

It was Momo’s turn to be flustered, her cheeks going bright red as she stammered. “Ah-oh I don’t know—I thought you had worn it before,” she blushed furiously and Toushiro couldn’t help notice how her shoulders sagged and the despondent look that crossed her face. She quickly shook her head and smiled at him—a slightly forced one he could tell.

“Thank you so much Hitsugaya-taicho, I will wear it well! I’ll call you later during the week,” She called out before rushing away through the portal, leaving him standing there awkwardly.

What was that?

---

The next few days, Toushiro couldn’t stop thinking about their last interaction. As he was filling out paperwork, or training with Hyourinmaru or attending captain’s meetings—he simply could not understand what went wrong.

And knowing that he was never going to be able to focus on his work, he turned to the one person he knew would have the answer on anything to do with Momo: his lieutenant.

When came into the office, she was lying down on the couch reading through a manga she had obtained from Yadomaru-taicho. Before he could even say anything, she called out from behind her book. “Don’t worry Taicho, I’ve finished all the reports. I’m just on my break now.”

“That’s fine, Matsumoto,” he replied as he sat down. It was quiet for a moment as Matsumoto continued to read, flipping through the pages so that Toushiro couldn’t see her face.

“Matsumoto,” he spoke up. “I had a question about the sweater you ordered me: was there anything wrong with it?”

“Hmm, not that I’m aware of. It looked fine to me—and that brand is a good one,” she answered from behind the book as she turned the page.

“When I gave Hinamori the sweater, she looked…sad,” Toushiro admitted.

The older woman perked up, putting down the book and sitting herself up to look at her captain with a suspicious look in her eyes. “Wait—Taicho, why did you give your new sweater to her?”

“Well, last time we spoke on the phone while she was in the World of Living, she ended up wearing one of my old shirts from years ago. I told her instead of wearing that, I could give her something that fits…” Toushiro slowed down as he saw his lieutenant’s blue eyes widening. “So I don’t know what the issue was.”

She stared at him with a dumfounded expression before crying out. “Because Hinamori wanted a boyfriend sweater! Something of yours!”

“I bought her a new sweater!” Toushiro defended hastily. “I hadn’t even worn it yet!”

“And that’s exactly the problem!” Rangiku exclaimed, standing up now with the book completely forgotten. “The whole point of having a boyfriend sweater is to wear a sweater with his scent on it! It’ll be slightly worn, washed a couple of times—but it has to remind her of you!”

Toushiro was dumbstruck as his lieutenant continued her tirade.

“Aw my poor sweet Hina-chan, I am so sorry you have my love-incompetent captain as your friend,”

“Hey,” he warned.

Matsumoto turned on him with a determined look in her eyes with placed hands on her hips. “Taicho, you have to immediately go get a sweater. Wear it down, even sweat in it, and wash it! Do you have a preferred fabric softener that you use?”

He arched his eyebrow. “I am not giving her sweaty clothing.”

Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Obviously not! But it still must remind her of you!”

“Matsumoto,” he sighed exasperatedly. “I am not her boyfriend. Hinamori did not want a ‘boyfriend’ sweater, as you put it.”

She groaned dramatically, collapsing on the couch and closing her eyes in frustration. “Taicho, there are a few things I will swear my life on—the best brand of sake, the hidden gem store to buy kimonos, the best time to eat persimmons. This is another one of them.” She pushed her hair back, and held her hands in front of her, as if explaining a critical lesson. “No, you are not her boyfriend—which is another future discussion we will have,” Toushiro raised his eyebrow but she continued on. “However, you are someone that is special to her and she wanted a piece of clothing that reminded her of you—especially while she is away from you!

“When have I ever strayed you captain? Did I not tell you to wear a suit and give her ice roses for White Day,” she said with a knowing tone. Toushiro had to giver her that—it was all her idea and the look of gratitude on Momo’s face was one he could never forget.

“The look of a girl in love in the sweater of her partner—and especially if it’s larger than her—is something every girl wants!” Rangiku explained with finality.

Toushiro’s mind reeled, thinking of Momo in his sweater that would be too big on her petite frame, the end of it coming mid-thigh. Her twirling around and smiling brightly at him. He had to shake the thoughts off.

“So, I need to give her…,” Toushiro iterated, “used clothing…because it reminds her of me?” Rangiku nodded emphatically.

“But why would women want to take men’s clothes when it doesn’t fit them?”

Rangiku sighed in resignation. “We’ve got a lot to teach you, Taicho...”

—

Authour’s Note: Toushiro seems like the kind of guy that wouldn’t fully understand the concept of a boyfriend sweater, right? I guess some human world concepts are just too confusing to completely compute haha

Hope you enjoyed :) Please look forward to more fics this summer! I will do my best :)

#hitsuhina #canariie: my fics #i just couldn't let go of that chain shirt they had toushiro wear in the human world #i needed to expand on the discourse that is shinigami taking on human fashion hahaha #toushiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #rangiku matsumoto

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

That feeling when you're SO CLOSE to finishing a fic but you just can't get over that damn hurdle of tying everything together in a way that makes sense and doesn't feel clunky all the while trying to keep characters in-character and not feel like they're acting the way you want them to just to finally finish this story

#personal #hitsuhina #god help me with this fic! #I am THIS CLOSE to finishing it #but I just can't stick the landing! #I think I packed too much into it XD #I think at this point I'm just going to have to finish it #even if it's clunky and the characters aren't 100% in-character #*screams into the void*

[ryomaunnie]

Here's my entry for the @hitsuhina-week exchange! It didnt exactly get to where I wanted to go with the fic, but I hope you like it @mercurialwitch !

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

After the battle against the Quincys, Momo Hinamori started having nightmares from time to time. At first she didn't exactly worry, as she sometimes still had them from Fake Karakura.

Her new dreams sampled a lot from the latest war. She still felt the rubble on her body, the blood hot on her face, her Captain unconscious over her shoulders and a cold presence over her head. A cold so menacing that would make even the strongest soldier quiver, but not her. Toshiro's coldness was something that had never scared her, his stoic way of being was so familiar that it had become a home.

A home she had taken for granted.

It had taken time, understanding Aizen's betrayal and healing her broken and confused heart. She had worked hard to get better. She had help along the way. Her friends were real, patient and kind. Rangiku had kept her updated on Toshiro. Oh, Toshiro. He was busy training to perfect his bankai. He didn't mention anything because he didn't want to worry her. Momo tried to respect his wishes and watch him from afar.

But she also see that he was tired. Stubborn Shiro had always been like that, pushing and pushing until he did better and then trying to hide it and make it seem like it was effortless. It pained her that he hid his suffering, especially from her. They used to know each other inside out, barriers only on appearance. She could see past his frown and he could see past her smile. She could see that he was not really angry and he could see that she was not really cheerful. Aizen had tried breaking that and for a while, she walked closely along to the fine line between loyalty and blindness. But even in her worst moment, her blatant disbelief in Shiro's supposed betrayal to Soul Society made her question what the man had written. She had to balance what was her duty with her heart and it became impossible to fall into a side.

She knew Shiro had worried to insanity until she got better. And when she got better, he never stopped worrying.

Momo knew that he followed her recovery closely and that made her want to recover faster. While healing she started training again until she was confident enough in her abilities to use them once more and when she did, she continued training to perfect them. Knowing Toshiro was giving his body and soul to get better motivated her and gave her strength to continue.

However, there was something in all these experiences that kept her uneasy. The restlessness had become so evident on her that even laidback Captain Hirako looked at her funny.

So that night she had decided to do something about it. She had decided to reach out to her refuge, to the person who had constantly stayed by her side, no matter what the circumstances may be. While walking, she reflected on her best friend. She didn't want to be a bother. It was late.

But she needed to see him.

She needed to talk to him.

The small lieutenant reached Toshiro's private quarters and knocked down. Maybe it was better to go back. He valued sleep time and here she was disturbing it and for what? Some nightmares? Was she a little child? What about…

-Hinamori?

Momo looked up. There he was, surprised, hair down and sleep robes. Clearly just awoken.

-Oh! Shiro! Eh…sorry I woke you up, I… if it's not too much…can I enter?

Toshiro stared at her and waited. After a minute, he reacted and stepped aside quietly, nodding his head in welcome.

-What do you want at this hour? I can't help you if you wet the bed, we are not kids anymore.

Momo stayed silent. She looked down - I'm having nightmares again. Can we talk?

The boy frowned and sighed- I'll brew tea. Sit down.

She smiled weakly but relieved that he wasn't upset. Sitting down, she watched him make tea and thanked inwards for his patience.

-So? If you're here, you want to talk.

The girl looked up, wide-eyed - Sorry Shiro. I haven't been sleeping well… I just… needed company. Do you mind?

Toshiro crossed his arms and looked over her -It's fine. You should worry more about yourself. Your eyebags are showing again.

Momo drank and stared at the cup - I know - she said - I guess I'm still thinking about the war. About captain Hirako. About surviving - she stilled - About what would have happened if you collapsed after your bankai.

He frowned even more - Do you doubt my strength? I trained hard, you know.

-I know that -she looked him in the eye - I just can't stop worrying about what would have happened. What… what I would do if… how I'd react… I don't know if I could stand going through it.

-You'd be fine. You have survived through worse.

The girl shook her head quickly - I don't think so. I can't even begin to imagine… I see it every night and I can't stand it. You are very important to me, Shiro.

-Don't call me that, bed-wetter.

Momo snapped -I'm serious!

-I know. You… are important to me too, Hinamori. You have nightmares now but they'll go away, you are stronger than you think. Hirako told me you have been training.

-I have. Can't train these thoughts away, but I'm trying. I have been trying for a long time. I'm walking the path I longed for and I know you have been making a lot of effort too.- she finished her tea and set down the cup - Thank you. For being there for me, always.

Hitsugaya raised from his place and walked over to the open closet to take another futon and set it over, close to his.

-Let's catch up on sleep, come on.

Momo followed the white-haired boy, sat down and smiled at him - Toshiro.

He looked over at her and she smiled wider.

-Mhn?

-I'm not going to have bad dreams now. I'm never scared by your side, I know you'll always have my back.

Hitsugaya's mouth turned upwards just a bit and they locked eyes - Always - he slipped under the covers - Good night, Momo.

-Good night Shiro!

-...don't call me that.

-Sorry, Hitsugaya.

—-------------------

-Shiro?

-Mhn.

-Tomorrow can we go together to the wedding?

-We age going the same way, it's obvious we're going together.

-I know. But… You know.

-Yeah… let's go together.

Momo sighed happily - Yes!

—--------------------

-Are you ready? We're going to be late, bed-wetter.

-Almost! And stop that! I don't wet the bed anymore! I think I proved that by now!

Toshiro protested silently. She still has problems being on time, and now he got caught in it. Bah! He crossed his legs and waited.

-Ready to go!

He glanced at her and stilled. She was beautiful. Standing up, he closed his eyes and sighed - Well, let's go.

Momo caught up with him and grabbed his arm.

-Oi!- he said, embarrassed

-You look nice- she smiled brightly

Toshiro blushed and offered his arm for her to grab -Here, you are going to fall with those shoes so hold on.

-Yes!

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

-They look lovely, don't you think?

-Mnh.

-I would like to look like that on my wedding day.

Toshiro stood silent while they got in position to start the ceremony. While it progressed, Momo continued to hold his arm so he looked at her. He hadn't noticed, doing it out of habit. He looked back and the ceremony has reached the bonding. Ah. He looked back at her. Yes, Momo was crying. He smiled a little smile and stood tall, but relaxed, as the person who motivated his own progress cried, finally out of happiness. Toshiro looked back at the marrying couple and continued smiling softly, barely seen.

-Mnh?

Momo stopped watching her friends and looked over at Toshiro, who again looked back at her.

-...Shiro...- Between her joyful tears, she understood. And she smiled wider than ever. Yes, they would have each other, as long as they fought together. For eternity.

They held hands tightly against Toshiro's chest.

--------‐------‐------‐---‐----

As they approach the newlyweds to congratulate them, they notice the couple tense.

-Congratulations on your marriage Renji! You look beautiful Rukia!- Momo said, then looking over Toshiro's features softly- The ceremony was very emotional for us.

-Ch! Talk about yourself - calmly, without letting go of her arm, he crossed the other one and enclosed her hand with his with boldly- Congratulations to you both.-

-Don't be mean Shiro! I wish my own ceremony to be as nice as theirs!

-Shiro?

Renji and Rukia stilled. They knew Momo was close to the small captain and surely her being familiar with him and seemingly about to marry his brother... They looked at each other and smiled, Renji regarding his friend kindly.

-Well, I'm sure your wedding to Captain Hitsugaya's brother will be as lovely as can be, Momo.

Rukia excitedly added - Yes! We will help in any way we can! Anything for you and Captain Hitsugaya's older brother!

Momo looked confused and Toshiro frowned even more - What are you talking about?

The Abarais froze. What? But they had seen him! And Momo always mentioned that she was much better thanks to Hitsu...

-Aaah...! That time you meant the Captain was helping you! Forgive me Sir, I don't want to create discord among you and your brother!

Toshiro frowned even more, if possible- Abarai, I don't have any siblings.

- But...! Against Gerard! We saw him! We even greeted him! He looked very intimidating!

Momo laughed softly -Guys! That wasn't Shiro's brother! It's Shiro's bankai!

-Eh?

All was well.

#hitsuhina #tōshirō hitsugaya #momo hinamori #bleach #toshiro x momo #hitsugaya x hinamori