#ramblings about hitsuhina

[alexiethymia]

hitsuhina and choice

I mean I love all iterations of hitsuhina and any version of them and their backstory, but the fact that Hitsugaya and Hinamori didn’t actually live together gets me y’know? (despite that many people thought the same, like me too and I always loved reading fics with that premise).

Because the fact that they didn’t actually live together (in fact they weren’t even neighbors, Kubo just says they lived in the same neighborhood) just hammers down Hitsugaya's strong regard for her. Because sure you could always argue that Hitsugaya was protective over her because they lived together (I mean I’m pretty sure many people characterized their relationship as familial because of that), and yeah I could totally get behind that, but knowing that they didn’t actually live together shows that of all the kids in their neighborhood, it was Hinamori who he grew his bond with to the point that he was ready to murder for her. It’s such an intense emotional tie to a childhood friend (*cough like Gin with Rangiku*) that I always wondered what could have led to it.

And I think a lot of it has to do with choice. Like Hinamori was popular. Hinamori was well-liked. Hinamori already had friends in their neighborhood. Hinamori didn’t have to be friends with the ‘cold’ kid that everyone - children and adults alike - were wary of. But she still did. She still laughed and smiled at him, hung out with him and ate watermelons with him, kept on visiting him even when her other friends were scared of him. And from Hitsugaya’s pov, she didn’t have to. She wasn’t family like his Granny. And it wasn’t as if he was alone either precisely because he had his Granny. In those early days he must’ve been confused why this sunny and warm girl would choose him. And this is way before he eventually becomes a powerful and well-liked captain, way before he was a prodigy, way before he was discovered to have strong reiatsu. He must have kept wondering why this girl kept on choosing him when he felt like he had nothing to offer her back and when it might have been detrimental to her to keep on hanging out with him because of the chance that she could have been isolated as well, like what was in it for her?

And this goes into the core of why I love Hinamori so much, of this little thing being an integral part of her character where we see snippets of it in the manga (like with Byakuya, Zaraki and to an extent Gin) that she never really judges people by their looks, that she’s open and accepting. Even when people were generally creeped out by Gin, she was only on her guard when Hitsugaya warned her about him. Sure it could be seen to be a weakness, but for something I’m sure she thought nothing of, I’m sure it meant a whole lot to Hitsugaya, enough that he considered her laughter like a spring breeze. Like honestly, I could believe how that ended in Hitsugaya becoming so intense about her and becoming incoherent with rage with what Aizen did.

Because that something that she ended up beating herself up about in the aftermath of Aizen - her trusting and accepting nature which I’m sure she thought was a weakness that she had to change, that nature of hers which was trampled upon and taken advantage of by Aizen and Gin - it was that very same nature which in Hitsugaya’s view probably saved him from his loneliness. He couldn’t stomach how that very same thing which made Momo who she was, the very same nature of hers which saved him, was so carelessly used to hurt her. Like, how dare they? Even worse, how dare they make Momo doubt herself? It was no wonder then that he couldn’t even hope to control or bottle up his unstable emotions threatening to overflow until they eventually did, with disastrous consequences.

In the same way Momo chose him so long ago, he continues and always chooses her, time and time again. Even when her attention was drawn away, even when her bright smile was no longer solely his, he never begrudged her. Time and again, he continued to prove that he’d always choose her - her safety, her well-being, her happiness - always choosing to protect her, even sometimes above and beyond Soul Society.

It’s all about the choice.

#hitsuhina #bleach #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #like I have not rambled about them in so long #seriously now that we know they didn’t live together #it once again makes me insanely curious to know how they first met #cause we had rangiku and gin’s first meeting #and even for almost all of the important relationships in the series #so how did hinamori and hitsugaya meet for example?? #ramblings about hitsuhina

[undedkat]

I have so much to say about the Bleach romances. I love how softly they’re told and how thematically satisfying they can be. But I also really like how the female character is allowed to be important to the male character.

Like Orihime pulls Ichigo forward - she’s the one who convinces him to save Rukia, her being hurt is what convinces him to reach out to the Vizards for help. Like half of Renji’s character is just trying to catch up to Rukia and stand alongside her, while Rukia is able to be a badass leader in her community. Gin’s entire life is dedicated to protecting Rangiku. Hitsugaya’s desire to protect Momo is the driving cause of a lot of his character moments.

This is anecdotal but I feel like a lot of times in shonen, the women aren’t really as important to the men as the men are to the women. And I get that these are series written for boys but as a girl it feels really nice to watch something where the women are important to the people around them.

#i mean it’s shonen - half of the plot exists to have people fight each other with magic swords #I have a lot of say about how thematically satisfying ichihime and renruki are but I would just be going in circles #bleach #ichihime #renruki #hitsuhina #FUCK I posted too soon but also I have so many feelings about yamichka and ikkaku #unded rambles

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

congratulations on another year of writing :)))) <3

for the fic requests, Hitsuhina first date! (yes I still remember when you teased that one snippet of Toushiro going to meet Momo for dinner and Rangiku finding out haha) it can be awkard it can be spectuacular it can go horribly wrong, i want to see your take on them navigating through a change in relationship :)

What if it Was?

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: sometime after the 10 year timeskip. I personally see this happening when they’re in their early young adult years, but please feel free to imagine this happening whenever you want.

Synopsis: Toshiro and Momo go on their first date, but Toshiro isn’t sure how first dates are supposed to go, or if this even a date at all.

AN: I’m starting the year off with a VERY overdue request.

 @canariie, you’ve got me! I’ve been dancing around this one for years, but now I have no choice but to release it! XD

I’m joking, but in all seriousness, this one has been collecting dust in my WIP folder for a few years now. I always got stuck on it in one way or another. This fic originally came about as a sequel to In Times of Peace (which I think is the first fic I wrote for you, ironically), but morphed into something else.This one does get angsty and a tad bit melodramatic – it’s me we’re talking about - but I promise it has fluffy moments.

Just three quick notes:

The research I did into this one was based on searching online and remembering old conversation I had with a friend who went to Japan. A shokudo is a casual restaurant that offers a variety of dishes, including curry, rice and noodle dishes, even sushi.

The mural in this piece is inspired by this one.

I wrote this fics with several songs in the background. Feel free to listen to them as you read: going home and compassion by Shiro Sagisu, The Bygone Days by Joe Hisaishi, and State Lines by Novo Amor

Anyhow, enough rambling, hope you enjoy it!

____________________________________

“Hey, Captain, when can I get my magazines back?”

Toshiro neatens the paperwork before putting it on top of the ‘completed’ stack. Without looking Rangiku’s way, he replies, “When you stop relying on those horoscopes to predict the future.”

The lieutenant slams her hands down on her desk, almost shooting up to stand. “But they’re so accurate! Besides, it’s a fun to learn about the World of Living and how they…” She trails off when the captain stands and starts wrapping a scarf around his neck. “Wait, are you going out?”

“Yes.”

“But I was going to go drinking with Kira and Hisagi! Captain, you can’t leave me with all of this!” She thrust one hand out towards the stack of incomplete paperwork, and the other to the much smaller completed pile.

“You went out drinking last night!” he retorts. “You can’t leave this office until you complete all of this, some of it is overdue now.”

Rangiku falls back into her seat with an exasperated sigh. “I know, but it’s no fun.”

“Since when was it supposed to be fun?”

“Well, you seem to like doing it.”

“Where did you get that idea from?!”

The lieutenant pouts and leans forward, resting her elbows along the desk. “Why are you going out? You rarely go out on a work night.”

Toshiro continues to wrap the scarf around his neck, considering his words. He can already predict her reaction if he tells the truth, but telling her a lie feels wrong. “I’m going out to dinner in the Junrinan.”

Rangiku raises a brow. “By yourself?” Then after a beat she smiles. “Or is it with your Granny? Taking her out for a treat?”

“No.” He breathes in deeply as he shrugs off his haori, preparing for her reaction. “It’s with Hinamori.”

And sure enough, the lieutenant gapes at him, hands slamming down on the desk again to push herself up and out of her chair. A vein threatens to throb in his temple when her paperwork stack wobbles, but thankfully doesn’t topple.

This goes completely unnoticed by Rangiku as she rounds the desk, barraging him with questions. “Where? When? How?! How did you ask her out? Or did she ask you out?! Oh my gosh, why didn’t she tell me?! She was updating me two days ago with Women’s Association business, why didn’t she tell me then?! Please don’t tell me you-”

“Enough, Matsumoto!”

She quietens, widened eyes blinking. Toshiro lays his folded up haori on his desk, ready for him tomorrow morning. “She just said she wanted to go eat dinner somewhere in Junrinan,” he clarifies. “This isn’t a…date.” He barely gets the last word out.

Rangiku taps a finger against her chin. “You’re going to a restaurant in the Junrinan for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Is anyone else going with either of you?”

“No.”

“So, it’s just the two of you then?”

“…Yes.”

She grins. “Sounds like a date to me.”

Faint pink colors Toshiro’s cheeks. “Whatever, I’m going!”

Rangiku scoffs. “You know, if I had my magazine I could use a horoscope to predict how you’re date will go tonight. Last I check for your sign it was-”

“I don’t want to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going.” He stabs a finger towards her paperwork as he strides to the office door. “Those had better be done by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, they will be! You go and enjoy yourself, Captain! Good luck!”

This is one of the few times Rangiku looks happy to be doing paperwork, but Toshiro can’t stay to absorb this strange moment; he’d be two minutes late if he didn’t hurry. He hastily leaves his division, acknowledging but not stopping when any of his subordinates greet him.

Stepping out into the dusk, the cold air picks up, bringing grey clouds over the Seireitei. He adjusts his scarf, bringing it higher over his face as the temperature plunges. Winter had just begun, and he senses the snow is on its way, likely to fall sometime tonight.

Nearing the White Road gate, a sense of unease bubbles up in him. What if this was a date? It couldn’t be. Momo didn’t see him that way, he knows. She sees him as a close friend to him, had told him as such not too long ago.

She just wants to properly catch up. In the years following the Quincy war and reconstruction of the Soul Society, they chatted when they could, even had the occasional lunch breaks together, but work always took precedence in both of their lives; or at least, in his life. Momo has more friendships, more people to spend time with. He’d seen her with the Women’s Association members at various shops and resturants, and Izuru and Renji – who sometimes brought Ichika along when he couldn’t find someone to mind her when she was a baby and child – sharing a tea or meal after a lieutenant’s meeting on a veranda of one of their divisions. She’d also gotten more World of the Living missions, sometimes simply as an excuse to visit the Visoreds with Shinji. They were long overdue to spend time together outside of work.

Coming through the gate, he already gets stares from the small crowds of Souls and off duty Shinigami that crowd the Junrinan. It’s for that reason he chose to leave his haori behind – he already attracts enough attention with his appearance outside of the Seireitei, and he didn’t want preferential treatment based on his rank.

He heads straight for their old meeting place: the alleyway between the stall that sold spinning-tops and a garment shop Momo used to always look into but never buy anything from.

He glances around for Jidanbo, but frowns when he doesn’t see him anywhere. Must be having the night off, he thinks. It’s been a while since he last saw him too. He makes a mental note to visit him sometime this week on his break – maybe he could fit in a visit to Granny too.

“Hitsugaya-kun!”

He swivels his head in the direction of Momo’s voice. She calls out for him again, and he spots her emerging from the alleyway. He weaves his way through the crowds to her, not once losing sight of her.

As he nears, his eyes widen a fraction at the scarf around her neck. It was a birthday present from him and Rangiku, but it’d been over a decade since he last saw her wear it at a formal dinner for then-Captain General Yammato. Made from red and orange silk and patterned with the branches and flowers of peach blossoms, it was one of the most expensive gifts he’d ever gotten her. Why would she wear something like this to a dinner? Where is she taking him? Should he have dressed up more? Maybe he should have worn his haori after all.

“How long have you been waiting for?” he asks, his neutral tone at complete odds with the nervousness thrumming through him.

“Not long.” She points to a large building down the street, bustling with customers inside and outside. “That’s it right there.”

He blinks when he spots one of the red lanterns swaying in a breeze. A shokudo? He calms a fraction; it’s more casual than he thought. “Well, let’s get inside if we can, it’s freezing out.”

Momo lets out an bemused snort. “You’re cold, Hitsugaya-kun?”

He’d normally correct her for not addressing him by his title, but they’re off duty, he’ll let it slide for tonight. “I’m not the one with a fire-type zanpakuto that’s sensitive to the cold.”

She giggles, holding the end of her scarf. “I’m okay, I made sure to wear extra layers.”

As they start towards the restaurant, Toshiro asks, “Why this one?”

“I’ve been meaning come here for a while,” Momo says. “Apparently the owner used to be a Shinigami but after he retired, he decided to open a shokudo inspired by the different types of restaurants in the World of the Living he went to while stationed there. I’m curious about the food, it’s supposed be different in taste and the types of dishes they offer compared to others in the area.”

Toshiro raises a brow. He was actually referring to her scarf, but let's it go. “He had time to go do that while on missions?”

“Well, you apparently have time go for walks when you’re on missions. We all have our ways of winding down or keeping ourselves occupied during missions.”

Fair point, he concedes inwardly. “And how did you find out about this place?”

“It was recommended to me by my third and fourth seats. Apparently a lot of people have already been to it, it’s quite popular.” She gestures to all the patrons, her smile tightening. “Hopefully we can get a table.”

He hums in agreement. If either of them had come dressed in their full uniforms, there would no doubt be a fuss made over them. They’d be offered private tables away from the noise, or ones with the best view if they were outside. Some places even offered discounts or meals on the house. He appreciates the generosity, but he also considered it making a scene. He’s glad Momo is of the same mind, never flaunting her status for benefits.

He receives a few looks as they walk between the outdoor tables. He recognizes some faces from Junrinan, children he had known on his street now grown up. Momo waves to one group of them, and they smile and nod back to both of them in response. The way he is treated now compared to then is almost night and day. Although some continue to stare, there’s a respect from some Souls that wasn’t present when he was a child.

Once inside, they’re shown to a table along the wall, right beneath a painted mural.

“What drinks would you like to start off with?” the waiter asks.

“Water,” Toshiro requests.

“And yuzu juice for me, please.”

After the waiter leaves, Momo glances around the restaurant. “Are you okay with this? It’s not too noisy?”

“It’s fine.” Toshiro peruses the long menu list. “How big is their kitchen? How can they serve so many dishes?”

Momo’s smile relaxes, the nerves seeming to dissipate. “You can see why it’s popular, huh?”

Toshiro lifts his gaze from the menu. There’s only two free tables inside, and the others are mostly occupied by…couples. Couples laughing and giggling and smiling and holding hands and talking like they’re married and one going in for a shy kiss on the cheek.

He quickly darts his head down. Considering or even noticing such things would be the furthest thing from his mind normally, but he’s potentially on a date – with Momo. Maybe he should have gotten Rangiku more involved in this. She’d know what to do and what not to do…or maybe not.

Toshiro snaps out of his thoughts when the waiter comes back with their drinks.

“And are you ready to order?” the waiter asks.

Momo looks questioningly to Toshiro. “I’m ready.”

Toshiro picks the first thing he sees. “I’ll get a the teishoku with yakizakana and tamagoyaki.”

“And can I please have a serving of takoyaki and the katsudon curry dish?” Momo requests.

The waiter nods. “I can bring the takoyaki over in a few minutes. The other dishes will come after.”

Momo thanks him as he leaves.

“I thought we could share some takoyaki, if you want,” she says to Toshiro. “I’m happy to eat them all, though.”

Toshiro shrugs. “I’ll eat a few.”

He’s surprised by the silence that comes. He’s used to having quiet moments with Momo, when neither feels the need to say anything and they just enjoy each other’s company. The awkwardness that settles between them is unexpected, like something from when they were first getting to know each other as children. Was it just him? Was it because this could be a date and he had no clue what to talk about?

“This mural is really nice,” Momo suddenly says.

Toshiro looks at the painting. It’s bold black lines depict a scene of four Souls travelling through a hilly valley. Two of them carry baskets on their backs filled with wood and fruits, while another Soul strolls ahead carrying various kitchenware, and the last Soul is far away and waving back at his companions. The valley’s flora is detailed and elegant, while the Souls are more flat and seem out of place. The only patches of color come from the sakura trees on both side of the valley’s winding path, the petals either swaying on the branches or falling across the scene.

“I wonder what it’s about?” Momo says after a sip of juice. “Maybe it has something to do with the restaurant if one of them is carrying a pot?”

“Could be. You could ask someone who works here.”

Something softens in her gaze as it flickers back down to the table. “I might…”

“You should.” There was his problem. He couldn’t think creatively like her, or find a way to carry this conversation. He’s never been ashamed of this nor has it ever been an issue for him, but somehow he feels inadequate now. He clears his throat. “How has your day been?”

Before she can answer, the takoyaki arrives. After thanking the waiter, Momo pushes the dish towards him. “Have a few.”

“Thank you,” he says while taking two.

She makes a satisfied sound after biting into one. “These are good!”

He only nods as he munches on his. After her second one and taking another sip of juice, her head piques up with a nervous laugh. “You asked me about my day, sorry. It was busy, but productive.”

“No surprise there.”

She frowns and her lips are on verge of a pout. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re always busy, and you work hard, so it’s productive.” He’s surprised by his compliment and how easily it fell from his lips. He stops eating, gauging her reaction as she too seems as astonished as him.

A blush colors the tops of her cheeks. “Captain Hirako worked hard too.”

Toshiro bites back on the comment he wants to make about Shinji’s work ethic, afraid he might say something else without realizing.

“We finished up our schedules for the new recruits ahead of time,” she continues, “so we’re prepared for when they start.”

“That won’t be for another two months.”

“It helps to be prepared! With that out of the way, we’re now focusing on setting up training  exercises.” She takes a long sip of her juice, but then hums. “Actually, now that I remember, we were wondering if Tenth Division would like to join in one of those exercises.”

“What would the core lesson be?”

“It’ll be up to you and Captain Hirako to negotiate. I could arrange a meeting with you, me, my Captain, and Rangiku-san if you’re interested.”

“I doubt we’ll have time in the next month.”

“That’s okay. We have three months planned starting tomorrow.”

“In that case, I’ll have Matsumoto tell you our schedules at the next lieutenant’s meeting.”

“Great!” Her smile turns rueful. “Ah, sorry, I feel like I’ve been speaking for too long. What about you? How was your day?”

“The same as any other. We only came back from the mission in the World of the Living two weeks ago.”

“How did it go? It sounded like a difficult.”

“It wasn’t that hard, it went smoothly. The Hollows were eliminated and we reported our findings to Hueco Mundo. They’ll take it from there.”

“It’s incredible that we’re able to work with them this well now.”

He hums in agreement, ignoring the thought of his fight with Hueco Mundo’s queen all those years ago. “The last thing to do is the reports. Matsumoto is finishing them up.”

“I see.” At the quiet that followed, her smile wobbles. “I, uh…I guess we work a lot, huh?”

“Yes, we do. Our duties as Shinigami never end.”

“Mhm.”

Silence falls again. He internally lectures himself, annoyed that he’s gotten so serious in what was supposed to be a light-hearted atmosphere. For a moment, he’d though this like their usual chats, discussing their latest work and setting up training exercises.

He almost lets out a relieved breath when the main dishes arrive. Momo barely draws her gaze away from the food to thank the waiter for the meal along with Toshiro.

“These look amazing!” she half exclaims after the waiter leaves.

The tension dissipates Toshiro’s lips twitch up into a smile at seeing Momo’s glee. He didn’t see what the fuss was about, but he did have to admit they were decorative compared to other dishes in other restaurants. She still hasn’t started after he “Food is meant for eating, Hinamori, not staring at.”

She ignores him as she digs a hand into her sleeves and retrieves her denreishinki. “I have to take a picture.”

He’s lifting his miso soup when she gives him a look. “What?”

“I want to take a picture of yours too.”

He indulges her, putting the soup back down and watches as she leans over the table to snap a photo. Satisfied, she nods at him and he starts gulping down the soup.

After putting her denreishinki away, Momo makes an appreciative sound after eating a katsu cutlet. “This tastes really good!”

“Glad you like it.”

The silence falls between them again. They can use the excuse that they’re busy eating, but it feels wrong to him. Had they gotten more comfortable discussing work than their personal lives? There was a time where it was the opposite, and chatting about everything outside of work took up most of their conversations. When had that changed? Why had it changed?

So, with the nerves threatening to creep in again, he says, “It’s not everything.”

Momo blinks, halfway through eating another cutlet. “Hm?”

“Work, it’s not everything. What books are you reading right now?”

Momo’s brows rise, nearly touching her hairline, and she almost forgets to eat the rest of cutlet.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing, it’s just you’ve never asked me that before.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He cringes inwardly at how petulant he sounds.

She giggles, raising a hand to her mouth, and he hates the small, pleasant flutter that goes through his chest.

“Of course,” she says, grinning. “I’ve been reading a drama series called the Crimson Chrysanthemum saga. It’s about three warring clans, and each book is about the generations of families fighting each other.”

“Sounds like something you’d read.”

“How so?”

“You’ve always been into things with high stakes and high emotions.”

“It doesn’t just have that! It has such interesting dynamics between the characters! It’s not just all of them proclaiming their feelings aloud, you can really sense how the history of the previous books has affected these characters. There’s so many moments where things have gone unsaid, but you can just sense how a character feels towards another through their actions! For instance, there’s a character who doesn’t speak, but you know every time he looks at another character or fights that characters brother he’s not just trying to protect his own honor, but the other character’s honor too! Some characters try to make peace with themselves and with their enemies, and others have become so blinded by the codes their families have set them down a path to continue the violence.” At his widened eyes, Momo shrinks back into her seat. “S-Sorry, I got carried away there.”

He lets out an amused huff and smirks. “No, it’s fine.”

“You think I’m silly, don’t you?”

“Not right now.”

She considers arguing back as he eats his miso soup, but settles on an angry pout.

 “You haven’t talked about a book like this in a long time,” he says. “It’s good to see.”

That calms her slightly, but a furrow remains in her brow. “I don’t really get a chance to talk about what I’m reading with a lot of people. It’s mostly with Ise-san and Kira-kun.” She cocks her head to the side. “You know, it’s a little surprising you’re not much a reader.”

He raises a brow. “How so?”

“It feels like something you’d be interested in.” He senses there’s more she wants to say, but she eats another cutlet before continuing. “I know just the sort of books you’d like, too. There’s a few mystery novels, ones that are hard to figure out but make total sense once you’ve finished them.”

“And why would I like those?”

“Because you like solving mysteries. Even when we were children, you’d get suspicious of something that seemed unusual or out of place and want to know everything about it.” Her eyes brighten. “Like that time when you were hearing noises at night time, do you remember?”

He frowns as he tries to recall. It’s vague, but then an image of Granny staring grimly at a turned over basket of spilled out peaches across the ground, muttering that someone had stolen some of the fruit. He’d woken to noises three nights in a row, but it wasn’t until the fourth time when they had been robbed that he decided to take it seriously. “That was when you were applying for Academy.”

“Yes! You went looking around for clues. You even asked me and my friend if we’d heard anything.  At some point, you found the animal tracks near your house. ”

He’s surprised she remembers everything in that much detail. Had she been watching on from the sidelines during that whole ordeal? “It was a stray dog.”

“Haruka-san ended up adopting her, right?”

He nods. “I think she named her Aki --”

“Because spring was a few weeks away,” Momo finishes with a grin. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when you brought the dog back to the Junrinan. You didn’t want to Aki be out in the forest because it was cold.”

He shrugs. “It’s good she found an owner. Besides, she was a good work dog, it would’ve been a shame to let her fend for herself when she could help someone in the Junrinan.”

Momo’s grin softens into a smile, one that makes his heart skip a beat and almost choke on the fillet he chews up. “It was kind of you,” she says. “And it’s not the only time you did something like that. You’ve always been kind. I wish more people saw it back then.”

He’s rendered speechless, only able to watch as Momo continues eating. He tries to do the same, but he eats slower and stares hard into the table. Where was all of this coming from?

“I wasn’t,” he eventually says. “I was a brat, really.”

“Well, yes, but not all the time. You always treated Obaa-san with kindness, at least.”

“I wouldn’t dare treat her any other way.” He eats the last fillet before speaking again. “On the books…If you have recommendations, then I’ll read them.”

“You would?”

“You’re an avid reader, I trust your judgement.”

“I’ll give my copies some time then! We can discuss them after you’re done, I’d be keen to hear what you think of them.” After he nods, she continues, “On the topic of hobbies, have you been doing any ice sculptures lately? I know you usually like to restart your Seireitei Communications column in winter.”

“It’s the best conditions for sculpting.”

“That makes sense.”

He goes on to tell her about the projects he’s working on while she eats the curry and the rest of the cutlets. As always, she’s genuinely interested, and that somehow makes him want to speak more at length about his interests, from the tools he’ll be using to the inspiration behind it. Only she does this for him, and both does and doesn’t want her to know what effect she has on him.

He gets back to eating once he finishes and she explains the new ikebana classes she’s attending. He doesn’t miss the brief sadness in her eyes as she reflects on how hard it was to get the classes up and running again after the loss of Unohana, but she brightens up again when praising Isane for her efforts to find new students and become the class’s new teacher.

Little by little, the awkwardness slipped away, and in it’s place is a bubble that envelopes them. It makes the restaurant blur away in the background, but also enhances the lights and colors that surround them, and his sense of smell is enhances to capture all the delicious scents and aromas coming from the kitchen. It’s like nothing he’s experienced before, and he nearly smiles from how pleasant it is. A world of their own, almost.

It’s only briefly interrupted when the waiter comes by to collect their empty dishes and glasses. Toshiro beats her to the counter to pay, but Momo still insists on a split bill. Not wanting to cause a fuss in front of the other patrons, Toshiro somewhat reluctantly agrees.

They step back out into the streets. It's now night and the snowfall has begun. The Souls who had acknowledged them had either left or are too busy amongst themselves to see the two of them leave.

Wordlessly, they walk through the Junrinan with no destination in particular. Toshiro watches their breaths fog in the air, floating away from each of their lips, carried by the wind, and fading a short distance away. Snow falls gently around them, and save for the shafts of moonlight peaking through the clouds and the soft glow coming from the windows of houses, it’s complete darkness all around them.

He thinks to ask Momo if she had anything else planned for them, but then she may want to part ways and break the invisible bubble around them. He wants to keep walking with her just like this, warmed by her presence and surrounded by his element.

He can make out the pink in her cheeks, it complements the reds and oranges in her scarf. She smiles to herself, content with how this evening has gone. But what was this evening? She invites him out to dinner tonight, yet he can’t tell what the nature of it is.

“Do you remember the day we met?” she suddenly asks without looking at him.

“Of course,” he replies.

“For some reason, the snow is reminding me of when we first met. It's hard to believe that was almost a hundred years year ago.” And she doesn’t have to say the rest, because it’s written all over her face when she glances at him. I’m glad we met back then.

This weather is familiar to him, he knows its rhythms and patterns, even when it was unpredictable to others. He wishes he can say the same for Souls, especially her. He’s known her for most of his life, but she continues to surprise him; just when he thinks he knows her completely, she proves him wrong.

He’s at his limit.

They’ve ended up at the edge of the forest and several meters away from the back of a row of houses. Nerves thrum through him as he comes to a stop after. She makes a quiet, surprised sound and turns to him. “Is something wrong?”

No matter how much he breathes, he can’t calm his racing heart. “Hinamori…”

His tone pops the bubble around them, and the gentle wind that blows through is colder than before. Momo waits, but the longer he remains silently, the more fidgety she becomes. She adjusts her scarf, shifts her weight from one foot to another, and takes in a breath that lifts and lowers her shoulders. Does she know what’s coming? Can she sense his apprehension?

If he says something, what will happen? She might be shocked, caught completely off guard by the very idea this evening was something more than two friends catching up. She may even laugh, wondering how he came such an odd conclusion. Either way, he needs to put his mind at ease.

“This wasn’t a date, was it?”

She frowns, a bemused grin twitching at the corners of her lips. “Shiro…” She trails off when she takes a step closer. She must see his genuine confusion because her expression falls, unsure of herself. She purses her lips, gaze briefly falling to the ground. “What if it was?”

The world stills around him. “…It can’t be.”

She fumbles over words. “I’m sorry, I thought – I assumed you…I was silly, I should have said earlier what I thought this was.”

 “That’s not it. ”

She takes another step. “Then…what do you mean?”

“You…You can’t have…” He doesn’t know if he can continue, hoping but also dreading that the implication will be clear to her.

A part of him is tempted to let out a bitter laugh, but it never reaches his throat. Even after all this time – even after forgiving him for what happened in the Fake Karakura Town, regardless of her belief an apology was never needed – he still thinks he’s unworthy of any feelings from her. He had been prepared when he visited her after her recovery to be told she couldn’t be his friend anymore, but a part of him hoped; and deep down, a part of him knew she would forgive, that’s just the kind of person she was. Her bond mattered as much to her as it did to him, to the point where it had been used against them to irreparably change it forever.

Aizen had intended the change to end in the death of one or both of them, but in the end all it did was make Toshiro realise his feelings had changed for her over the years. They burrowed deeper into his heart, to the point where seeing her in pain brought him to ruin, to the point he was willing to abandon everything he’d built for himself over the years to protect her and her pride.

“Shiro-chan, please. I don’t understand.”

“How can you…f-feel for me that way? After everything that happened, you shouldn’t.”

A pang runs through his chest at the hurt that briefly flashes through her expression. Then, something flickers in her eyes, a realization. She sighs quietly, nearly exasperated. “I’ve said it before, but everything that happened was his fault, not yours. Never yours.”

He knows this to be true deep down, but it feels like a smaller part of him always lie in wait, ready to catch him at his most vulnerable and remind him of what he did, screaming at him that it was his fault.

She takes another step. “I haven’t let it stop me from moving on, f-from…from realizing my feelings. I don’t exactly know what I feel for you, but –” Her gaze is soft and vulnerable and pleading, wanting him to truly understand. “I know it’s something more than I’ve ever felt for you in the past. I know it’s more than as a friend.”

He lets out a shuddering breath. He should be overjoyed. This should be one of the happiest moments of his life. Momo doesn’t see him as a close friend, she feels more for him, just as he feels for her. So why is he confused? Why does his heart tremble with doubt?

No, there’s something more going on here, beyond the few fragments of guilt buried in his mind and if he faces it, he doesn’t know how he’ll react in front of her.

At his lack of a response, a small, sad smile shapes Momo’s lips. She comes closer. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you before what this was. Somehow, I thought…” She scoffs at herself. “I thought you would know, but that was presumptuous of me. I don’t know why I…” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I-I’ve said what I…” She stops in front of him. “Maybe I’ve said too much. Maybe you can’t see me the same anymore. Even so, only you can choose how you feel, and I’ll accept whatever it is.”

She says it as a reassurance, but there’s also a wobbly undertone, one of putting themself out for potential heartbreak.

“Hinamori, I…” He trails off as his throat constricts.

The snow dances around them, with not a single flake somehow touching her. Was it his own doing without realising? A silly thought, but one that he finds himself latching on to after such a proclamation from her.

If only she knew how wrong she was to think he would reject her. She deserves to know just how much she means to him, how much he come to love her, but he can’t get a single word past his trembling lips.

All this time, he had convinced himself she couldn’t feel the same way as he does. He believed he would harbor unrequited feelings for her, perhaps for as long as he lived, and he’d watch her find someone else. Someone who was as good, extroverted, and normal as she is. Someone who she could always smile and laugh with, who had no ties to the heartache she went through, and who would never let her feel the chill of winter. Someone she could grow old with without the knowledge of his shortened lifespan and maybe even have children with if they so desired.

She can't possibly want to be with him like that.

“Shiro-chan?”

His mouth and throat are dry and Momo is holding his upper arms, alarmed. Had he been hyperventilating or just breathing through his mouth?

“Y-You’ve gone pale," she stammers out.

He can only shake his head, trying to gain his bearings.

Her worry turns to pain. “What have I done?” Her hands fall limply to her sides. A shudder runs through him at seeing her impending heartbreak. “I’m so sorry, if I had known this would distress you, I never would've done this. I should never have said anything. I shouldn’t have --"

“No!” he exclaims as his own hands grab hold of her arms.

It startles her, and a tear slips from one of her widened eyes. “Wha…?”

“It’s not like that, stop.” He relaxes his grip on her, but doesn’t let go. He won’t make her cry, his doubts and fears be damned. Something roars to life within him, like a fire setting wood ablaze. It gives him an ounce of courage to finally speak his mind.

“It’s not what you think. When I wasn’t sure if this was a date or not, it’s only because I didn’t think you could…could --” He swallows thickly and bows his head. “-- that you could feel that way for me. Why do you feel that way towards me? I don’t understand.”

She lets out a quivering breath and sound. They’re both still for a beat, with only the wind tussling their hairs and clothes. Then, her arms jolt with a weak chuckle. He blinks, and raises his gaze, bewildered by the half smile she gives him.

She shakes her head disbelief. “You’ve always been like this.”

“What?”

“I wish you weren’t sometimes,” she continues on as if he hadn’t spoken, her gaze softening. “You see the good in others, but never in yourself.” Her voices wavers, on the verge of crying. “I wish you could see your value to those around you. I know you take a lot of pride in being a captain and in your work, but I wish it were the same in yourself. You’ve meant so much to me and many others, but I know that’s something only you can figure out.”

She raises her hands to claps his arms as another tear falls, this time for a completely different reason. “I don’t know entirely why my feelings for you changed, but I can think of a few reasons. I have always admired your work ethic, even if you work too hard sometimes. I know why you do though, because you deeply care for your division and want the best for everyone there.”

“And you you're kindness is something i have always liked about you. It's not often straight forward, it always takes on different forms, but I've seen it since we were younger. You've always been kind, whether it was finding a home for Aki, or protecting those who can't fight for themselves, or believing in me when I was at my lowest. To be on the receiving end of such kindness is a beautiful thing. You've been hurt so many times, but that kindness has never left you despite it all.

"You're strong, Hitsugaya-kun, you always have been."

Toshiro’s eyes burn with the threat of tears, but he holds them back. Trust her to say such things so openly, to show affection for him he never gave himself. Maybe, if lets her words in, deep enough o reach his core, he can start to believe her. That's for another day.

In the meantime, in a rare moment of physical affection, he gingerly holds the side of her head and brushes the trail of her tear away with his thumb. They can only stare at each other, registering a new emotion racing through them. One much like the bubble that had enveloped them earlier in the evening, warm and making a whole world for them.

He can feel for her without the pain of it. In a way, he's free.

It’s all so much, but also so simple. They feel the same about each other. They liked each other, more than friends.

Eventually, Momo ducks her head with a bemused huff. “This isn’t how I imagined this night going at all.”

Toshiro can’t help but let out a half-hearted snort. “Me neither.”

There’s something about the admission that makes a chuckle bubble up in his throat. He tries to suppress it, but when he senses Momo is trying to do the same, it falls from his lips. It’s a nervous and relieving one. Maybe the emotions had overwhelmed them, made them go mad, or maybe it was from how much both had worried about this night.

Eventually, they calm down. Momo smiles at him, but before he can do the same, she pulls him into a gentle hug. He’s slow to wrap his own arms around her, overwhelmed by how different this gesture now feels.

“Let’s take this slow,” she suggests. “One step at a time.”

“Yes,” he says as he pulls away. “I think that’d be best.”

The blush in her cheeks deepens. “I guess things will be different from now on, huh?”

“They don’t have to be.”

Her smile widens. “No, I guess not, but some things will be.” She looks back to the Junrinan. It's much later, and less lights are on. “We should head back.”

Without a second thought, he takes her hand. “I’ll walk you back.”

She blinks down at their joined hands. “Shiro-chan!”

“What?”

“Since when do you…?” She giggles. “That’s so unlike you.”

Heat rises up in his cheeks; even he can’t believe his own actions. He pulls his hand away. “It’s as you said, some things will be different from now on.”

She gasps and quickly snatches his hand back. “I didn’t realise it would be such a dramatic change!”

He only grumbles and tugs on her hand, signalling for them to get going. He tenses seeing a few souls still wondering the streets of the Junrinan, but relaxes a fraction when neither he or Momo recognise them. It dawns on him then something else they should discuss. “I may have a request.”

“What is it?”

His lips form a tight line before he speaks. “If we do go ahead with… this –” he raises their joined hands “— and we are going to take things slow, I don’t want Matsumoto to know just yet.”

Momo nods. “I was thinking the same.”

That surprises him.

“Why are you so shock?” she says. “I think we should see how this goes first before anyone knows, not just Rangiku-san.”

“Huh…I always thought you couldn’t wait to tell people when you were in a…a…” How can he not say it? He was in a relationship with Momo. The thought only made his blush brighter. Why was this making him even more flustered?

“A relationship?” Momo finishes with a knowing smirk.

He half-heartedly glares at her, which only makes her snort softly. “It’s good we’re going slow, it might take you a while to get used to saying that.”

He’s tempted to call her out at the way her smile wobbles from embarrassment and her blush spreads to the rest of her face.

“A-Anyway, I’m not like that," she continues. "I want to keep this quiet until we’re both ready to tell everyone. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She shrugs. “How that looks in our day-to-day, I’m not sure.”

“We’ll discuss that tomorrow.”

She blinks at him.

“If you’re free after the day is done, I could come visit you.”

She grins. “Really? You usually work back.”

“Well, as you’ve pointed out, I could probably not stand to do that as much. We can meet at one of the joint training grounds after six pm.”

She bites her lip, clearly trying not to laugh again. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

Her smile in warm and wide, and he can't help but give a small one back in return as they walk back to the Seireitei.

Maybe one day they can look back on this and laugh – though he can only ever see himself cringing at his obliviousness. For now, he basks in the warmth of her hand and her presence, and in the nervous but hopeful jitters that rush through him at the unknown future with her.

#hitsuhina #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #bleach #fanfiction #angst #fluff and sappiness #requests #canariie #get ready for the most dramatic first date ever! XD #and the sappiest ending I've ever written ^^;

[orihimc]

do people actually see IH as siblings-alike because of their hair color FHSDJFHSKJFHSDJ, i never knew they called IH incest, that is hilarious 😭

#i mean up to people how they perceive characters relationships #if they really see them as siblings ofc they'd be uncomfortable shipping them fhjkfhdksfhds #im not salty. it's kinda understandable since i see hitsuhina as siblings despite i know they probably lean towards romance in canon fhkdsjh #BUT STILL THEY WERENT EVEN RAISED TOGETHER? THE ONLY CONNECTION ABOUT THAT SAID SIBLING RELATIONSHIP IS WHAT THE HAIR COLOR #???? #this is genuinely funny HFEKSDJFHKSJFsd #aquila ramblings

[soybeanprophecy]

is it ridiculous?

notes: i have no idea, inspired by the perfect man by cutecrazyice (a sasusaku fic from like 2011 lmao). also do not know if i can write this well lmao i am trying my best hahahahH disclaimer: definitely do not own bleach. when are they animating the last arc!!!!??? also au! excited for the new chapter tho!!! also this was written for hitsuhina week 2021 this year but honestly it's so late and i'm not even entirely sure which theme it was supposed to fit (au and mutual pining??) so i am very sorry!! i hope you enjoy this cheesy-ass fic and i hope its not too long and too much of a mess. i apologize in advance lmao

Summary: Hinamori Momo first meets Hitsugaya Toshiro on the playground at the tender young age of six. They go on to become inseparable, meaningful, and essential to each other—childhood friends that were, are, and will be people who belong together for the rest of this lifetime and beyond.

Link for those who like using ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33041425 

-------

Hinamori Momo first meets Hitsugaya Toshiro at the tender age of six on the playground in the local neighborhood. She had been grasping the handle of her bucket firmly, brows furrowed, determined to build a castle in the sandbox, when a blur of white to her left suddenly catches her attention.

“The swings!” A boy yells as he runs past her. He has white hair, and Momo can’t help but gasp in disbelief. She has never seen a person with that color hair before.

He immediately skids to a halt, whipping around to glare ferociously at her. “What are you looking at?” he demands, stepping into and striding over to her spot in the sandbox.

She drops her bucket and stands, huffing, suddenly put off by his attitude. “Nothing! I was just sitting here, minding my own business,” she pouts, crossing her arms. 

“Well, I heard you scoff,” he snaps back.

“I didn’t scoff!” she replies indignantly.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Did not—aah!” 

Momo stares up at her perpetrator in scandalised shock, her mouth wide open at the slightly guilty look forming on the boy’s face. “I can’t believe,” she sputters, flailing. “That you pushed me!”

His frown deepens, and he stares off to the side petulantly. “It’s just sand. And well, you made fun of me first.”

Made fun of? Momo’s jaw drops again, her mind racing to understand his response. When did she make fun of this boy? She notices the slight downturn of his brows and the scuffing of his feet, and despite his thorny demeanor, he looks smaller and lonelier by the minute. She cocks her head and studies him, really looks at him, and it suddenly dawns on her—he had thought she had mocked his hair.

“Oh! I wasn’t really—I mean, I was shocked, but—well, just surprised, really,” she nervously rambles, waving her hands to indicate innocence. “I had just never seen anyone with your hair color before. I really do honestly think it’s...” she pauses shyly, peering up at him from the ground. “...nice.”

The boy’s eyebrows lift into his hairline at her words, and Momo notes that there is a redness that seeps into his ears. “W-whatever,” he spits out, deftly looking away from her.

She smiles at him, and decides that she likes this boy. “Your white hair is cool, Shiro-chan!”

His head whips back around, and the hostile glare is back. “...Shiro-chan…?” he stomps his feet angrily. “My name is Hitsugaya Toshiro, not Shiro-chan!”

“Hinamori Momo,” she stands and brushes off sand, grinning at her newfound friend. “Let’s go play on the swings, Shiro-chan!” she grabs his hand and begins excitedly dragging him towards the swingset.

Toshiro yelps at the weight, nearly toppling over. “Hey! It’s Hitsugaya Toshiro! And no, I don’t want to go on the swings!”

“I heard you yelling about the swings earlier,” she responds with a knowing look, and he frowns at her apparent attention to detail. “Come on, I’ll push you!”

He reluctantly follows her to the swings, and she gestures eagerly for him to sit. As she pushes him higher and higher, the frown starts to slip off his face and she grins secretly to herself. Shiro-chan really is too cute, she muses, watching him laugh in delight as he swings in the air.

“You have to push me too,” she shouts at him as he flies up into the sky.

“As if!” he yells back.

He pushes her anyway.

-------

It is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

They are inseparable as the years pass, and an unlikely bond forms between two childhood friends with polar opposite personalities.

“Momo-chan! Are you coming to the park afterschool?”

She nods brightly, zipping up her backpack with a secure flick. “Mm-hm! I’ll be there,” she says, smiling widely at her friend. “I just have to wait for Shiro-chan!”

Her friend pauses to grimace, a frown slipping into her expression. “Does he have to come?” she wrinkles her nose at the very idea of hanging out with Hitsugaya. “He doesn’t fit in at all.”

Momo nods firmly. “He’s really not that bad,” she tries to reason. “He’s a meanie sometimes, but he’s a very good friend and person. People just don’t give him a chance,” she states resolutely, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know…” the frown on her friend’s face doesn’t lessen. “...Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t come.”

“I’m not leaving without him,” she says, shaking her head decisively. Momo stands, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she waves, and without looking back at her friend’s likely sour reaction, she leaves the classroom, the door banging behind her.

Toshiro later looks at her questioningly as she catches him leaving his locker. “Weren’t you going to hang out with your friends today?”

She dismisses his query, pulling him by the arm. “Nah, let’s get watermelon shaved ice instead! I’ve been craving it!”

“I’m pretty sure you were supposed to—”

“It’s so hot!” she cuts him off, fanning herself as they stumble together down the hallway. “It’s a perfect day for something cold and sweet,” she says, wagging her pointer finger. “Your treat, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya!” he retorts out of habit, dropping the earlier subject. “Stop calling me that nickname; we’re in junior high already!”

Momo laughs, patting him on the head. “But you’re always going to be Shiro-chan to me,” she says gleefully, ruffling his hair as he tries to pull away. “Little, cute, grumpy Shiro-chan!”

He snatches her hand out of his white unruly locks, glowering up at her jovial expression. “I’m not little and cute!” he exclaims angrily. “And just you wait, Hinamori. I’m going to be big and tall and handsome!” 

The petulant response just makes her laugh again. “Sure, sure,” she waves her arm nonchalantly, before stopping to give him a pointed look. “Just don’t go around threatening to beat people up,” Momo scolds, frowning slightly. “I heard from Aizen-sensei that you almost got into a fight yesterday.”

Toshiro has the decency to look mildly chastised, his gaze downcast. “...They were making fun of you,” he begrudgingly admits, staring at his sneakers.

“They’re just mean boys,” she rationalizes, but tilts her head contemplatively, a small, fond smile growing on her lips. “...But thank you, Hitsugaya-kun.” 

He snaps his head up, wide-eyed, before darting his gaze away hurriedly. “W-whatever. And I’m not paying for your dessert,” he quickly recovers from his embarrassment, a smirk lining the corner of his mouth. “...Bed-wetter Momo.”

“Shiro-chan! That’s so mean!” Momo shouts childishly, punching him on the shoulder. “You know I don’t wet the bed anymore!”

“That’s what you get for calling me ‘Shiro-chan,’” he sticks out his tongue. “And you did that until the third grade!”

“No, I didn’t!” she pouts. “Take it back!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

The bickering continues down the hallway and out into the street. 

-------

Hinamori Momo goes on her first date in her junior year of highschool, when a red-faced, fumbling Kira Izuru approaches and awkwardly asks her out.

“Of course, Kira-kun,” she answers, cheeks rosy and shy. This is her first date ever, and she suddenly forgets that she has been friends with Kira for over a year now.

“What do I do? What do I do?” she hyperventilates to Hitsugaya later, frantically pacing about the room. 

He is strangely quiet throughout her word vomit, and she doesn’t register the poorly concealed expression of mild irritation and discontent on his face. 

“...He’s just Kira,” Toshiro eventually responds, brows furrowed. “You don’t have to be any different around him.”

“B-but, it’s a date!” she sputters, still panicked. “I’ve never been on a date before! I didn’t even think people noticed me, let alone a good friend!”

He scoffs. “People notice you,” he mutters under his breath, a sour look forming. 

Momo ignores his mumbling, continuing to gesture widely. “Plus,” she pauses, dramatically flinging her arms to better showcase her histrionics. “It’s...Kira-kun!”

“Why does that matter?” he asks, a delicate brow arched. 

“He’s—I don’t know—like popular, and tall, and—I mean, good-looking!” she laments, throwing herself onto the bed. “I don’t know how to handle that,” she mutters into her pillow.

Toshiro shifts in her desk chair, clearly uncomfortable. Something in his face darkens, and he studies the floor with an unusual amount of interest. “...That’s what you see in him, huh.”

“What?” she sits up and shoots him a confused look. “I mean, I guess…”

He swallows, and Momo frowns, puzzled. There are very few moments in their friendship that she has had trouble reading him, but the carefully blank expression on his face only bewilders her.

“...Just be yourself,” he says, after a moment of hesitation. “It’s his loss if he doesn’t like you for you,” he adds and shrugs, pulling at the loose thread of fabric on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be.” 

It appears as if he wants to say more, but he stays silent, still picking at the strand of his hoodie. 

Momo purses her lips, considering his advice. “I...really appreciate that, Hitsugaya-kun,” she says, tucking her legs underneath herself, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “Thank you.”

“Whatever,” he immediately snaps, but Momo knows that his ears light up anyway. She giggles, and is comforted by this Shiro-chan, whom she knows like the back of her hand. It feels like a return to the comfortable routine they share, and she feels slightly relieved by the familiar territory.

“Just don’t be mad if he doesn’t like you because you’re a bed-wetter,” he taunts, grinning. 

She throws him a dirty look, sticking out her tongue in response. “That’s mean, Shiro-chan! That was in third grade!”

“It’s Hitsugaya! Stop with that nickname!”

“Not unless you stop saying I wet the bed!”

“But you do wet the bed!”

“Mou, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya!”

They dissolve into their usual bickering, and Momo laughs freely, hoping that their friendship never changes.

…

“Um, I just—I don’t think it will work out,” Kira later tells her as he scratches the back of his head stiffly, his gaze not quite reaching hers. “Plus, I think—I don’t want to intrude,” he adds hesitantly.

Momo’s smile drops and her shoulders sag, and disappointment fills her. She had thought that the date went well, and that the two of them had a lot of fun together, sharing stories and experiences with vigor and laughter. 

“Oh,” is all she can say, twisting her bracelet around her wrist anxiously. “...Although, it’s...really not an intrusion, though,” she pauses after processing his latter statement and tilts her head up at him, ponderingly. 

He just shuffles uncomfortably, looking around the hallway. “It’s just, I don’t know—it didn’t seem like you were int—” he immediately cuts himself off as Toshiro slides into view.

“Hinamori,” the white-haired boy greets, handing her a math textbook.  

She receives the book gratefully. “Ah, thanks, Hitsugaya-kun,” she nods at her friend, “Do you need it back by tonight?”

Toshiro shakes his head. “No, keep it. I know you need it for the entire weekend.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she whines. “Not everyone is a prodigy like you, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya—”

“Uh, I should—I have to go,” Kira blurts out, gaze shifting wildly between the two arguing friends. “I—uh, nice seeing you, Momo,” he says awkwardly, before pausing to look at the other party. “And, uh, you too, Hitsugaya.”

He all but sprints down the hallway.

Momo turns to her companion, both parts bemused and downcast. “He...he said he didn’t think it would work,” she clarifies after a beat, chewing her bottom lip, staring off in the direction Kira disappeared to. “...I guess he didn’t like me after all.”

Toshiro takes in her despondent expression, and sighs. “It’s his loss, Momo,” he says gently, and reaches out to pat her on the arm, rubbing circles softly into the crook of her elbow. “If he can’t appreciate you for who you are, he doesn’t deserve you.”

She smiles at him weakly, but gratefully. “...Yeah...you’re right. Thanks, Shiro-chan,” she mutters quietly, her mouth lifting higher. 

He doesn’t comment on her use of his nickname this time, and she leans into him with a thankful grin. Although he usually pulls away and quips at her when she smothers him with physical affection, he doesn’t move when she lays her head on his shoulder.

They stay that way for a while.

-------

She doesn’t get approached again, and Momo fleetingly wonders if she is doing something wrong. She doesn’t dwell on the topic of her love life however, and spends the rest of highschool drowning in her academics, standardized testing, extracurriculars, and college applications.

Toshiro gets into Tokyo University early in their senior year on a soccer scholarship, and she rolls her eyes in irritation at the ease in which he moves through life. He wants to be a professional soccer player, and she has no doubt that he will become the best player in the country.

“Work hard, play hard,” he once tells her with a mouthful of amanatto made by his grandmother, shrugging when she asks him how he became a prodigy. “That’s the secret to success.” 

She just wrinkles her nose in response, throwing her pillow at his face. Jerk. 

Instead, she resolves to work harder and studies day and night to get into the same university, and the hard work pays off when she receives her acceptance letter in the spring. 

She is so ecstatic that she gets to move to Tokyo (oh my god, Tokyo!) to study literary journalism (her dream) and be with her best friend (to boot)! 

Toshiro doesn’t act surprised when she informs him of the good news.

“I didn’t doubt you at all,” he tells her nonchalantly, zipping up his soccer bag. She frowns a little at his indifference, but when he stands up to look at her, the silent glint of pride in his eyes warms her heart. 

The year feels like it zips by with all of the preparation and celebration activities, and she is so preoccupied that she completely forgets about prom.

“Who are you taking to prom, Momo-chan?” Rangiku, one of her closest friends, asks as she leans casually over the lunch table, swiping at one of her fries. 

“I’unno,” she answers absentmindedly, furiously crossing out and circling words on her English essay. She chews on the eraser of her mechanical pencil, anxiously scribbling out notes in the margins of the paper.

“Momo-chan! Are you even paying attention?” the busty strawberry blonde makes a grab for her pencil. “Stop editing your English homework!”

Momo swats her away, ducking away from her friend’s hands. “Rangiku!” she complains. “I need to finish this!”

“But, Momo-chan, this is serious!” her friend whines, shaking her head frantically. “You work too hard these days! When will you let loose and have a little fun?”

Exhaling in mild exasperation, Momo puts down her homework. “I need to do well in English to hopefully qualify for that scholarship,” she explains, pursing her lips. “I don’t have the money to go to Tokyo otherwise.”

Rangiku pauses in a moment of brief maturity and understanding, patting her lightly on the arm. “You will, Momo,” she says with utmost certainty. “I know you’ll be great, okay? Besides, I’m not worried about your academics, I’m worried about you becoming an old cat lady!”

The dark-haired teenager rolls her eyes heavenward at her friend’s dramatics, but she sighs anyway, deciding to humor her antics momentarily. “Okay, fine. What’s the problem?”

“Who are you taking to prom?” Rangiku repeats, leaning in even closer. 

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly, shrugging. “No one’s really asked, I guess.”

Rangiku turns to the side and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like he hasn’t asked yet? and he’s so stupid before Momo interrupts her maniacal mumbling with, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine, Momo-chan, dear,” the blonde answers with gritted teeth, but Momo just raises her eyebrows, not believing a single word. 

She decides to ignore her friend’s weird behavior, changing the subject to something she’s thought about recently. “It’s been a little weird between us after that one date last year,” she taps her chin thoughtfully. “But maybe Kira-kun? I can always ask him, I guess.”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” her friend answers quickly. “I don’t think Kira is the best option—”

The conversation is interrupted by the loud thumping of textbooks onto the table, and Momo turns to see her best friend groaning as he slides into the seat next to her, dropping his head onto the pile of books. 

“Ah, Hitsugaya-kun,” she sympathizes with a pitying smile. “Finals are terrible, aren’t they?”

“Who cares about multivariable calculus anyway?” he gripes, lifting his head weakly. “Why do they have all these requirements for athletes?”

Momo scoffs lightly. “Serves you right for qualifying for an athletic and academic combined scholarship,” she chastises, resting her chin on her palm. “And for skipping the general requirements and going straight to the advanced classes!”

“Yeah, taichou,” Rangiku agrees, studying her manicured nails in barely concealed disinterest. “Serves you right for being both the soccer captain and a major nerd.”

Toshiro shoots her a dirty look, unzipping his soccer bag and pulling out a stack of papers. “Don’t think you won’t get even more paperwork now, Ms. Soccer-team-manager,” he says sternly, gloating at how pale her face becomes. “What were you guys talking about, anyway?”

Rangiku recovers rather quickly, an amused smirk forming on her face. “Oh, we were just talking about Momo-chan’s date for the prom,” she flutters her eyelashes obnoxiously, kicking him under the table.

He winces. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’?! That’s all you have to say, taichou?” Rangiku asks through a strained smile, leaning even closer to the smaller white-haired teen in intimidation.

Momo sighs, placing her chin on the palms of her hands. “I don’t know—we were saying, maybe Kira-kun? He and I have been a little weird though...I honestly don’t think anyone’s interested.”

She doesn’t notice the stare-down engaged between the two people next to her, broken when Rangiku coughs pointedly. 

“...Hinamori,” Toshiro starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “If you want, uh, I mean,” he stumbles over his words, cursing himself in his head. He pauses, and then straightens in a sudden burst of confidence: “I’ll take you to prom.”

Momo blinks, eyes wide in surprise. She never really considered that Hitsugaya would ever want to go to prom, let alone be her date for such a “frivolous and unnecessary” event (a direct quote). “A-are you sure, Hitsugaya-kun?” she asks, with genuine concern. “I didn’t think you would want to go to prom!”

“It’s a necessary part of the highschool experience,” he reasons logically, looking everywhere but at her. “And, if you want to go, then that’s enough of a reason.”

Her jaw drops, and she takes in his heartfelt words with a wide smile. “Shiro-chan! That’s so kind!” she yells, diving forward to hug him. 

He tries to duck out of the way to no avail, his neck flushed as she squeezes the life out of him. “It’s Hitsugaya! And don’t make me take the offer back!”

“Thank you so much, Hitsugaya-kun!” she mumbles happily into his shirt, and he can feel her giddy smile through the loose fabric of his soccer jersey. The look on his face softens as he tightens his grip around her, and Rangiku fondly watches the pair of best friends with a small smile on her face. 

Stupid idiots.

...

Prom was a wild, hysterical whirlwind of events that included a group of students getting busted for bringing alcohol (likely Rangiku-related), a fistfight that started for no particular reason (the gymnasium ended up trashed), and a dramatic love confession between childhood friends—

“Wow, that was a crazy night, huh?” Momo exhales loudly, rolling her eyes at the antics of her classmates. “Rangiku really got away by the skin of her teeth.”

Toshiro crosses his arms over the tie of his tuxedo. “No, I don’t think so,” he responds with an annoyed huff, no doubt thinking of a million ways that he can punish his team manager later. “It’s because that stupid student chaperone is fond of her.”

“Well, Ichimaru-san and Rangiku go way back,” she reasons, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I guess it makes sense that he’s fond of her.” She leans back, looking up at the twinkling of stars in the sky, her hands wound behind the back of her puffy dress. 

“Speaking of going way back…” she says slowly, feeling strangely sentimental and sappy. “I can’t believe Renji finally confessed his feelings for Rukia tonight! And in front of everyone, no less! He really waited for Kuchiki-san to graduate before the grand gesture, but her brother’s definitely going to find out now!”

Her rambling stops when she notices her companion’s lack of response. “...Hitsugaya-kun?”

He looks especially thoughtful tonight, and there is a faraway look in his eyes that she cannot quite understand. There is some hesitation in the way he moves forward to speak, but his poker face slides into place firmly before she can begin to analyze his behavior.

“It’s about time, right?” she says quickly, trying to make sense of the tense atmosphere that has just formed around them. “I think it’s weird to date your childhood friends because you grew up in diapers and all, but whatever works for them, I guess!”

He pauses, and something in his eyes dim. “Weird?”

“Yeah,” she continues, oblivious to the change in his expression. “I mean, it’d be super awkward, right? Like, think about me and you, for example. It’d be so ridiculous!”

His face closes up completely, so quickly that she doesn’t even have time to register the change. “...Yeah,” he mutters, twisting around. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Hitsugaya-kun?” Momo asks in concern, baffled by his sudden mood shift. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he answers, his back firmly turned. “Let’s go back.” 

They walk home in silence, and Momo only remembers the icy demeanor and the feeling of something she hasn’t experienced since the day they first met—being shut out.

-------

College starts and there is a flurry of orientation and extracurricular activities and meeting new people, and Momo starts to get busier and busier.

She is on a prestigious scholarship that requires her utmost diligence (and the keeping of a certain GPA), while Toshiro is the busiest athlete in the entire city. He makes soccer captain his freshman year of college, and is thrust into tournaments, practices, and unfortunately, paperwork. 

By the start of their sophomore year, Momo starts to feel like they are drifting further and further apart, and she is briefly sad at the thought of separation. 

She finds herself missing her best friend’s presence, banter, and biting remarks, and resolves to make more of an effort to spend time with him.

“Ugh, my brain is melting,” she complains to her fellow literature classmate, Ichigo Kurosaki, as they make their way across campus. 

He laughs, slinging his backpack onto one shoulder, his other arm carrying his soccer bag. “Yeah, that midterm sucked. Royally.” Ichigo adjusts his grip on the duffel bag, cocking his head to look over at her, eyebrow raised. “You coming with?” he asks, nudging his chin towards the field.

Momo nods eagerly. “Yeah,” she answers, following his lead. “I told Hitsugaya-kun I would wait for him after practice.”

“Good. That dude needs to loosen up sometimes,” he says gruffly. “He doesn’t know how to chill out.”

She laughs at the grumpiness on his face, but she knows that the two are good friends, despite the constant insults and hostile comments. That is just how Hitsugaya Toshiro makes friends, she guesses.

As they approach the edge of the soccer field, Momo spots the captain casually leaning against the goal post, his hands in his pockets.

“Ah, Hitsuga—” she starts excitedly, but immediately stops and freezes when a black-haired girl comes into view, tossing a soccer ball up and down. The girl says something that makes Toshiro startle, and he retorts back, which makes her giggle up at him. He makes a move to lean down a little closer, and Momo abruptly turns away, unable to keep watching.

Acid burns her throat, and she swallows painfully, her heart thundering in her ears. A million questions rush through her mind. Who is she? Why are they so friendly? When did this happen? And most importantly: Why does it hurt so much?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ichigo asks in concern, when he realizes that his companion has suddenly stopped walking. 

“I—It’s nothing,” she manages to stammer out, trying to collect her thoughts and emotions. Toshiro has never even mentioned a girl being in his life before, in all of the years that she had known him. Or maybe he was really good at hiding it? Maybe she didn’t know him that well after all. And why did she care so much? 

Ugh, she was rambling in her own mind!

“Oh, hey, it’s Karin,” Ichigo’s eyes light up in recognition as he follows her gaze. “She’s my little freshman sister, but she’s real good at soccer, that squirt. They’re pretty good friends now,” he explains, gesturing to the two people on the field.

“Oh,” she says, and bites her lip. 

They are good friends. 

Huh. 

Ichigo immediately notices her less-than-enthusiastic response, studying her out of the corner of his eye. “Mo,” he calls out, hesitantly. “...You good?”

The genuine concern in his voice snaps her out of it, and Momo forces a smile onto her face. “Yeah, everything’s fine!” she tries to stay upbeat, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Uh, I’m actually gonna head back instead, if that’s okay. I’m feeling a bit tired.”

He only looks more concerned at her sudden need to leave. “Wait, you sure? I’m sure the captain would be happy to see you—”

“No, no,” she shakes her head quickly. “I’ll—uh, come by another day! He—he seems busy, anyway.”

At this, Ichigo just seems confused. “Nah, you know it’s not like that, right? Toshiro would love to see you—”

But Momo can’t take hearing anymore, and she just bolts, waving goodbye to her friend. “Sorry, Ichigo! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

As she flies out of campus in the direction of her dorm, she bites her lip to keep the frustrated tears from forming at the corners of her eyes. The sight of her building finally allows her to slow down, and she belatedly realizes that her hands had formed fists so tight that her fingernails had dug into her palm. 

That was not a normal reaction, she tells herself in irritation. That was not a normal reaction to seeing your friend with someone else. 

The thought of losing Toshiro, of having his priorities shift to someone else more important in his life, absolutely terrifies her. She sniffles, angry at herself. This is so selfish; this is so stupid!

She cannot take up his time, his life, his livelihood, like that. She is just his childhood friend, and who can expect to always keep one’s childhood friend as the first and only priority in their life?

Who did she think she was, his girlfriend? 

That would be...it would be…it would be—

Her mouth drops open.

—exactly what she wanted.

And it finally dawns on Momo how she feels—how she had felt her entire life, likely—about her best friend, Hitsugaya Toshiro. 

No, no, no, no—this cannot be happening, she starts to panic, the tears rushing back. I can’t possibly—no, it’s not possible.

She slaps herself silly, exhaling heavily at the implication of her own thoughts. She refuses to let this happen. She refuses to ruin a perfectly good and fine relationship with her own stupid, and probably fleeting, feelings.

Suddenly resolute, she shakes her head to clear her mind. This will not deter her, and she will find a way to move forward without getting stuck.

…

Momo manages to weave and bob her way through the rest of the semester, avoiding him whenever she can and making excuse after excuse after excuse.

She decides to keep some distance between them to clear her mind, and hopefully stomp out the remnants of feelings she has recently discovered. (Spoiler alert: It doesn’t work).

It is their winter break when she visits her hometown, and subsequently meets up with one of her oldest friends.

“Hey, Momo-chan, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Rangiku trails off, clearly trying to pick her words carefully. “Are...you and taichou okay?”

Momo tenses up briefly, but the moment passes as soon as it comes. “Yeah, why?” she asks nonchalantly, painting her pinky toe nail a delicate shade of green.

“I dunno, uh,” her friend responds untactfully, stumbling over her own words. “He’s just, uh, upset, I guess? Or just in a really bad mood lately, but you can’t always tell with taichou, haha!” Her laugh is strained, and Momo rolls her eyes at the blonde’s inability to navigate sensitive topics.

“I’ve just been really busy,” she responds curtly, effectively cutting off the topic. Rangiku studies her with a hesitant glance, and Momo can feel the weight of her pointed gaze. She just sighs, stopping her ministrations to look up at her friend. “It’s just complicated, okay?”

The strawberry blonde pouts, stretching herself closer on the bed. “Momo, you know you can always talk to me about it, right?”

“Yes,” she replies, swallowing lightly. It is still hard to talk about, but Momo knows she can’t avoid the topic forever. “It’s just—I don’t know! Hitsugaya-kun is suddenly out here, with his stupid soccer talent, and stupid hair, and stupid height—did you even realize that he’s grown so tall? Ugh, it’s frustrating!” she throws her hands up, rambling with a vehement passion. “And he’s so popular now! And he has so many friends? And the girls—don’t even get me started—I don’t even know what’s going on anymore!”

Rangiku blanches at her rant, surprised. “W-what?”

“Maybe I’m just lonely!” she continues her tirade, much too heated to notice her friend’s reaction. “I just want to go out and live! And maybe date! Is that so much to ask for?”  

“Well, all you do is study, and when you’re not studying, you’re spending time with him,” Rangiku explains pragmatically, but the cheshire grin is hovering underneath her desperate attempt to keep a straight face. “It’s not exactly conducive to meeting anyone else.”

And for once, she...has a point. Momo considers this, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “...Yeah, you’re actually right,” she draws out slowly, chewing on her bottom lip. “I...I think I know what to do.”

“Great!” Rangiku cheers. “Finally!”

…

“Momo, are you sure about this?” Orihime Inoue asks dubiously, anxiously scanning the room filled with chattering students. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this...blind dating thing.”

“Of course, ‘hime!” she responds enthusiastically, although the anxiety is rolling around in her gut. She pumps her fist to encourage herself, even though her nervous mind is frantically telling her to leave and never come back. “We have to put ourselves out there!”

Her friend peeks out from behind her apprehensively, gnawing at her lip. “I—I really don’t know, Momo—”

“No! You need to get over that highschool crush of yours!” she cuts her off defiantly. She had met Orihime, who is currently working as a pastry chef in culinary school, at her local bakery last year. The two had become fast friends, especially with Momo’s penchant for peach tarts and watermelon milk tea. 

“He’s really not—he’s not like that—” Orihime protests, before sighing in defeat. “Alright, you’re right,” she acquiesces, the fire lighting in her eyes. “Let’s do this!”

“Yeah!” 

As the two of them turn towards the congregated group of people, a male student lightly taps Orihime on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you around before,” he casually compliments, his eyes lightly roaming her body. “You from around here?”

She stiffens, waving her hands in polite and mildly nervous frenzy. “Oh, no! I’m a culinary student at the Tokyo School of Culinary Arts,” she clarifies, wincing when he reaches over to pat her shoulder. “I don’t go to Tokyo University.”

“Ah, a chef? That’s nice—”

“Inoue?”

Three heads turn to see Ichigo’s surprised face, and a scowl slowly forms when understanding of the situation dawns in his eyes. The boy in between them pales and retracts his hand, excusing himself quickly.

“Kurosaki-kun?” Orihime gasps, clearly in shock. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Momo interjects, shaking her head to make sense of the entire scene. “You guys know each other?”

“Ah, yes,” the orange-haired girl says quickly, meeting her gaze nervously. “W-we went to Karakura highschool together,” she explains to Momo, her eyes widened with guilt and a tint of shame. 

They...went to highschool together? Momo briefly remembers the description of the “oblivious delinquent jerk who is too stupid to recognize Orihime’s feelings” from one blunt Tatsuki Arisawa.

She immediately puts two and two together, and her jaw drops in realization. “It’s Ichigo?!” she whispers loudly, her gaze piercing in faux accusation. 

Orihime nods quickly, her cheeks flaming red, and Momo facepalms, groaning into her hand. How is it that she has known both of these idiots for almost two years and not put the pieces together earlier? 

“Inoue,” the ignored man in question steps in, a frown firmly settled on his features. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s here for the blind dating event, Ichigo,” Momo indignantly answers for her, when the girl pinks in distress, and gestures around at all the informational signs. “Isn’t it obvious?”

The frown only deepens, his brows pinched. “I didn’t think you would come to something like this.”

Orihime only shrinks in response, looking down at her feet. “I just—um—”

“She doesn’t have to justify herself to you,” Momo cuts in, suddenly annoyed by his insinuation. 

His eyebrows shoot up, and he holds up both hands defensively. “Hey, I’m not trying to ask for justification,” he clarifies, looking troubled. “It’s just—guys can be gross, I guess. I’m just trying to protect—ah, I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.” Ichigo rubs his face, clearly frustrated with himself. “Sorry, Inoue.”

“No, no, no,” she immediately responds, reaching out to touch his arm kindly. “I—I really do appreciate it, Kurosaki-kun.” 

His lips twist up, but his forehead remains pinched. “I—uh,” he starts, before cutting himself off with an irritated frown. “Inoue, can we—could you make some time to talk? With me?” he asks instead, a hesitant tilt to his words, but a resolute glint shining in his eyes.

She studies him fondly, her hand still lightly resting on his arm. “Yeah,” she meets his gaze, staring up at him. “Yeah, I can.” 

Momo observes the pair, rolling her eyes at her good friends in exasperation. These two were idiotic to think anything was ever unrequited, she thinks, but she was nevertheless happy for them. 

“Hey, and you,” Ichigo shifts his attention suddenly to her, a look of disapproval forming on his brow. “It’s unfortunate that the soccer team had to have some business in the area today. He’s not gonna be happy about this, you know.”

“What? Who’s not gonna be happy—”

“Hinamori?”

At the sound of that painfully familiar voice, Momo stops, turning to her side to see the one and only white-haired man of the hour, stalking over towards her with an unhappy glower etched onto his face.

“Speak of the devil,” Ichigo mutters under his breath. 

“What are you doing here?” the soccer captain looks especially agitated, and Momo blinks at the unexpected hostility emanating from his aura. 

“What do you mean, Hitsugaya-kun?” she argues back, upset by his tone. “I’m clearly at a blind-dating event!” She points to the nearby signs again, annoyed at the men in her life’s inabilities to read.

“And, just why, pray tell, are you at a blind-dating event?” he questions, a brow raised.

She bristles at the judgmental lilt in his voice. “I’m just trying to put myself out there! It’s not anything you’ve ever had to worry about, anyway!”

He reels back in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asks, before he registers her statement. “Why are you trying to put yourself out there?”

“Maybe I just want to!” Momo fiercely deflects, defending her pride. “You don’t have to police me just because we’re childhood friends! You can do other things and meet other people too!”

“What are you even talking about?” he spits back, angry and bewildered. “Do you hear yourself? You’re being ridiculous!”

Ichigo and Orihime exchange looks of alarm. Oh no, he said the wrong thing, Orihime mouths to the fellow victim of the argument taking place. Ichigo only nods, frightened, slowly backing away from the two arguing friends.

“Ridiculous? Ridiculous?!” she enunciates furiously, clearly insulted. “I’m being ridiculous, Shiro-chan? I’m an adult, and I can do whatever I want! And that includes dating however many people I want!”

“It’s Hitsugaya,” he snaps back acerbically, almost on impulse. “Just because you’re feeling lonely and undesirable, doesn’t mean you can just go out and shamelessly do whatever you want!”

Orihime and Ichigo freeze. Uh oh. This is bad. This is really bad. They look at each other in unbridled horror.

“...You think I’m lonely and undesirable and shameless…?” Momo whispers, her eyes hidden underneath her bangs. Her body shakes in hot fury, and she cannot help the tears that form at the corner of her eyes.

Just as soon as he says the words, Toshiro pales, aghast. He looks horrified at himself, reaching forward to apologize. “M-Momo, I—I didn’t mean—”

When she looks up, the pain and hurt in the weight of her gaze hits him like a slap to the face. “I don’t want to see you ever again,” she says quietly, and sprints forward, disappearing out of the crowd.

She doesn’t even have time to register the miserable agony that flashes on Toshiro’s face.

...

“I’m really sorry to bother you on your day off,” Momo expresses remorsefully, cupping her hot cup of tea with tight hands.

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Rukia immediately replies, waving her apology off. “My brother said I needed to rest, anyway.” She pulls a chair up to the table, leaning her chin on her knuckles. “What’s going on, Momo?”

Momo stares down at her tea, tears welling up in her eyes. She is tired of all the avoiding, pretending, and hiding. She chews at her lip, making a decision within herself, before looking up and meeting Rukia’s eyes with a watery gaze. “I—I think I’m in love with Hitsugaya-kun.”

Rukia listens patiently as she details the sequence of events from beginning to end, starting with college orientation and the feeling of drifting and the revelation of jealousy, to Rangiku’s advice and the speed dating and the biggest fight they have perhaps ever had.

“And now, I find out that Hitsugaya-kun thinks I’m lonely and undesirable and shameless,” she whimpers, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I am lonely and shameless—but undesirable? Hitsugaya-kun thinks I’m undesirable,” she says, her voice hollow. 

“Momo, no—that’s not true—”

“Yes, it is!” she asserts fiercely, slumping down onto the table. “I’ve never had a boyfriend—even in highschool, Kira-kun didn’t even want to date me after asking me out, and no one wanted to go to prom with me! And then in college, I don’t even think boys cared enough to even look at me—oh, no—he’s right! I am undesirable!”

“W-what?” And suddenly, Rukia is doubled over laughing, so hard that she almost falls off of her chair.

“And I’m—wait, Rukia—why are you laughing?!” Momo asks angrily, vaguely offended by her friend’s laughter at her vulnerability. 

Huffing and wheezing, Rukia finally manages to calm her guffawing enough to speak. “Momo,” she starts mirthfully, wiping at her eyes. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“What?” she frowns, confused. “What do I have no idea about?”

“It’s not what you think,” her friend continues, amused. “Kira didn’t back out because he didn’t like you. He thought you weren’t interested.”

Momo’s brows furrow. “And why would he think that?”

“Because on that date you went on, all you did was talk about Hitsugaya!” Rukia throws her hands up, looking dramatically weary. “Kira thought you guys were a thing then!”

“O-oh, what?” she stutters, bewildered by her friend’s straightforward statement, her cheeks flushing a rosy pink. “I—I didn’t even realize—”

“Oh, and none of the boys dared to ask you out on a date, or to prom,” Rukia carries on, still in good humour. “Because Hitsugaya was totally in love with you, and it was bro code to leave you alone. Plus, he can be kinda scary and overprotective sometimes,” she adds in afterthought. 

Momo’s only response is a wide-eyed gaze of shock.

“That obviously carried on into college, because Ichigo tells me that the entire soccer team knows of his undying love for you,” she goes on, clearly finding the entire situation hilarious. “He’s not exactly subtle about it, Momo.”

He...was in love with her? There was no way. Momo’s head is spinning, and she collapses backwards into her chair, trying to digest these new pieces of information.

“I thought—I,” she blubbers, winded. “I thought he would never think of me that way—”

“Momo,” Rukia says gently, patting her arm lightly in support and encouragement. “Go to him.”

…

Momo trudges home in a daze, still flabbergasted by the epiphany bestowed upon her by her good friend. She reaches her dorm hallway, eyes still unfocused, when she startles to a halt.

Toshiro stands in front of her door, pale and subdued, and she can see the bags sunken under his eyes. “Hinamori, I—” 

She raises a hand to stop him, her lower lip trembling. “...I’m sorry, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He looks shocked. “W-what? Why—”

“I was selfish,” she confesses, finally letting out what has been bothering her since the beginning. “I overreacted, because I was hurt. I was hurt, because I thought you would leave me and move on. I was afraid and selfish, and I lashed out and said all of those things I didn’t mean,” she sniffled.

He reaches out right away, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Don’t cry, Momo, please—”

Her eyes brim with more tears instead, and she whimpers at his touch. He has always hated her tears. He has always been so good to her—how could she not notice? Always protecting her, caring for her, being there for her—always at the edge of her life, waiting and waiting and waiting to be allowed to enter her heart. 

“Hitsugaya-kun, I—” she barely holds back a sob, launching forward into his arms, no longer able to be away from him. “—I love you.”

The arms around her stiffen abruptly. She stays stubbornly put, burying her face into his chest. 

When she gathers the courage to detach herself slowly and look up at his expression, she sees a deep and naked and tender affection, the most emotion he has ever allowed himself to show, in his turquoise eyes.

“Momo, you—” he murmurs, and there is almost (almost!) giddy disbelief in his voice. “It isn’t...ridiculous?”

She blinks, and suddenly, the memory floods back. Her mouth drops open, and she looks up at him with guilt and remorse. “Oh, Hitsugaya-kun,” she says, rubbing circles into his back in silent apology. “I’m sorry. It’s not ridiculous at all.”

“I don’t think you were being ridiculous, either,” he admits softly, touching her forehead gently with his. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffs, suddenly overcome with feelings of happiness and contentment and peace. “I love you, Shiro-chan.”

“I have always loved you, bed-wetter Momo,” he responds, voice thick with pent-up emotion and longing. 

She laughs, her breath tickling his face.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Hinamori,” he warns with a rare smile.

Momo eagerly meets him halfway, and their lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss, languid and sweet and whole, and it feels like home.

“Mm, Shiro-chan,” she moans, gripping his neck as he pushes her against the door of her dorm. She backs up and stumbles over something, causing both of them to fall over.

“Wha—” she looks over at what she tripped on, spotting a basket of peaches toppled onto the hallway floor. “What is this?”

Toshiro looks pointedly away from her, his neck and ears flushed red.

“Is this...for me?” she asks, pinching his cheeks fondly. “You’re so sweet, Shiro-chan!”

“It’s Hitsugaya!” he swats at her and scowls in complaint, completely out of habit and embarrassment. 

She laughs freely for the first time in a while, leaning in to press her smile into his shoulder. This is the beginning of the rest of their lives, she thinks as she teases him, the couple bickering and giggling on the floor of her dorm hallway.

She can only hope that it lasts forever and ever.

.

And it does. 

In this lifetime and beyond.

.

—fin.

#hitsuhina #Toshiro Hitsugaya #hinamori momo #bleach fanfiction #bleach #hitsuhina week #au #mutual pining #childhood friends #childhood friends destroy me #i hope this wasn't awful lmao #and so cheesy and terrible #i apologize in advance #some ichihime #a lil renruki and ginran #hitsuhinaweek2021 #my fic

[rangikuxmatsumoto]

hitsumatsu

Send Me a Ship and I’ll Rate it from a Scale of 1-10 and tell you my thoughts on it.

You done fucked up asking for this one.

HitsuMatsu: 1000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000/10 – WILL ALSO SHIP TILL THE END OF TIME.

Why are we not shown GinRan for a god damn century BECAUSE WE ARE BEING BLESSED WITH HITSUMATSU – THAT’S WHY.

I will start off by saying that when I first got into Bleach, I was strictly a GinRan shipper but as time went on, after Gin’s death I will say HitsuMatsu interested me a LOT more.

We are blessed with honestly one of the most well developed partnerships within the storyline of Bleach with HitsuMatsu – it isn’t just a professional partnership but also a friendship (*cough*relationship*cough*).  Where do I even start with these two precious babies?

Get ready for some more insane ramblings.

Prior to us discovering in the last arc Rangiku and Toshiro’s longer and more complex professional dynamics, we’re given a partnership that on paper would be terrible together. Toshiro, the by the books, no nonsense, mature, hard worker and Rangiku, childish, lazy, slacker, thorn in his side – but they complement one another PERFECTLY.

They bring balance to one another – in their own way, each of them offer support, understanding, and friendship to the other. For Toshiro, Rangiku has been a guiding presence, she was the one who helped him find his path, urging him to become a shinigami, (helping him save/protect his grandmother), she did what no one else (besides Momo in a sense) did and see him not as a monster but as someone lost, confused and alone. She’s been an influential figure in his development. For Rangiku, Toshiro for the last 20+ years has been a constant presence which is something Rangiku needs more than anything. He has been at her side, through everything that they have faced together and has always been supportive, protective and concerned for her.  He has never ABANDONED HER.

Also you can’t tell me that Rangiku wasn’t the main reason Toshiro ended up in the Tenth. He could have gone to any division and sure – he probably would have ended up as the Tenth Division captain because all other captaincies were filled by this point in the storyline but IN MY PERSONAL OPINION, he purposefully went to the Tenth from the very beginning because of RANGIKU.

Let’s start back in the beginning of the Soul Society arc before we know more of Toshiro and Rangiku’s history and just go off of what we see during the betrayal and all that. So of course, what’s any good conflicting ship without the presence of a third party? Rangiku is placed in a very precarious spot – her connection and relationship with Gin and her loyalty and devotion to Toshiro. Toshiro and Gin are also set up as rivals from the very beginning, Toshiro not trusting Gin, suspecting him – but even more so on the level of that Toshiro is Gin’s REPLACEMENT. Gin was the prodigy but Toshiro comes in, kicks down the door and blows Gin’s accomplishments out of the water without so much as breaking a fucking sweat. AND THROW IN THAT TOSHIRO IS CLOSER TO RANGIKU NOW MORE SO THAN GIN. Can you say DRAMA?!

Toshiro is AWARE of this as well, on how many occasions does Toshiro CHECK ON RANGIKU’S wellbeing? He shows concern for her – he’s worried about the situation she is being placed in, having to choose between her best friend and her loyalty to him. AND NOT FOR ONE SECOND DO I THINK HE IS WORRIED ABOUT HER ABILITY TO DO WHAT IS NECESSARY TO DEFEND SOUL SOCIETY. He knows where her loyalty lies and that’s WITH HIM and the Gotei.

My girl might be a slacker but she is a strong, badass bitch who doesn’t take shit from no one – REMEMBER THAT.

The amount of trust that they also have in one another is also shown throughout this part of the series. Rangiku might be lazy but when the time calls for her be serious, she’ll handle whatever task is put before her – and Toshiro knows that. When Rangiku faces Kira, Toshiro knows she’s more than capable of handling the situation. Rangiku also knows and respects the strength of her young captain, which is why she’s dismayed when he’s defeated by Aizen when his betrayal is revealed.  AND CHRIST – When Toshiro and Gin go at it and Ran comes in with the MOTHER FUCKING CLUTCH MOVE – Listen, people can go on and on about how GinRan and HitsuHina are similar and stuff but here’s the fucking thing about that. Rangiku had no god damn problem calling out Gin for his bullshit. They are pitted against each other not once – BUT THREE IMPORTANT FUCKING TIMES. Rangiku doesn’t back the fuck down. Toshiro and Momo however are tripping and stabbing one another like it’s nobody’s business (it’s filler but in the Reigai arc, Toshiro couldn’t even draw his blade against two fake Momos because of the whole ‘I must protect her’ and he got his ASS KICKED). Maybe it’s just an age/maturity thing; maybe it is more of the relationship stand point (which works against GinRan) but still, GET IT TOGETHER.

If you haven’t guessed it yet – I ain’t a HitsuHina fan so if you are, might be a good time to leave.

ALRIGHT SO NOW LET’S TALK HISTORY.

Toshiro and Rangiku have a shared history that honestly is amazingly precious and well developed. So first interaction is their meeting in the market – CLASSIC. I will also point out that THIS MOMENT IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS WHAT TOSHIRO THINKS ABOUT DURING THE THE ZANPAKUTO REBELLION ARC AND HE THINKS OF “HOME”. HOME – NOT MOMO. BUT RANGIKU, titty smacking him, screaming and then following his frosty ass to tell him to become a Shinigami, that in doing so he’ll figure out the name of the voice calling him. UGH. I know it’s a filler arc, BUT THAT IS CANON. They just made it juicier with that little part.

AND THEN TOSHIRO AS A THIRD SEAT – CAN THEY BE ANY CUTER THEN. They’re behaving like siblings, the older/younger sibling troupe, but you think of that and then SEE HOW THEY BEHAVE AFTER ISSHIN’S DEPARTURE. I MELT.

That is where their bond was formed, that was where the base of their partnership started and it MATURED and DEVELOPED over time. Rangiku might still tease and torment Toshiro in a way that an older sibling might do it but there is something more there. She respects him, she’s loyal to him, and she treats him as an equal and more than that. He honors her, he respects her, and he cares about her as not only his fukutaichou but as HIS FRIEND.

THEY RELY ON ONE ANOTHER. Their strength comes from their bond, their shared history and their mutual respect. During TYBW, it is tragic but it also highlights how they much they value and respect one another. They also complement one another in their fighting style. There is no doubt that Toshiro is strong as fuck, he’s powerful as hell and for him to lose his bankai is like losing a part of him (obviously, duh), but who does he fucking turn to? RANGIKU.

THEY NEED ONE ANOTHER. THEY DESERVE ONE ANOTHER.

The Tenth Division is what all divisions should ASPIRE TO BE.

AND THEN TOSHIRO’S MOTHER FUCKING GROW UP. UGH.

FUCK. Sure it’s like a hot damn minute but if that bitch ages like that, the panties/boxers in Soul Society gonna be dropping.

So call it what you will, BOTP, OTP – Whatever it is to you HitsuMatsu is life. I will go down in FLAMES for those two previous babes.

FUCK.

#Insane ramblings on HitsuMatsu #I will scream about these two forever #toshiro-hitsugaya

[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

[alexiethymia]

As promised, Death on the Ice Field

Nothing I say here will be new since the themes have been tackled plenty of times in fanfic (which I am so thankful for), but it’s still fun regardless. I feel like I usually have to put the disclaimer that this is a HitsuHina blog, because I think I will always have more to say about them.

Like Death on the Ice Field for example. It frustrates me the anime didn’t show Momo’s part here, because I’ve always believed that she was as crucial to Rangiku and Granny in setting up Toshiro on the path of a shinigami and meeting Hyourinmaru.

The way I see it, Momo was the spark, the impetus, Rangiku showed the way, while Granny allowed him to go. The special chapter, in my view, was all about awakenings or an awareness of change. It was Momo leaving which reminded Toshiro about things changing. It’s an allegory of sorts about growing up. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that perhaps this chapter also showed the start of his awareness of his budding feelings towards her (I mean there will always be naysayers and live and let live, but even without the relationship chart, I don’t think you’d blush at your sister or sister-figure no matter how close she was).

Another thing is how when he says Momo and Granny were the only ones never to be afraid of him, he says next that that’s why he likes Granny, but he doesn’t say the same of Momo. I’ve always thought Kubo excelled in his use of negative space, but that also applies to the dialogue-variant in that he seriously leaves a lot of things unsaid and interactions unexplored (Isshin reuniting with Rangiku and Toshiro, Kirio with Hiyori). It leaves a lot of room for interpretation and makes things fun for fans. Personally, I always read it as him being unsure of his feelings for Momo now, again something brought to his awareness with her leaving, a characteristic tsundere response if you could say.

He measures time by the number of years she entered the academy, and while she still smiles brightly at him - the same smile she graced him with five years ago - she no longer faces back (to Toshiro, Jurinan, take your pick) when saying goodbye the way she did the first time she left. And unlike five years ago where Toshiro just scowls and says she shouldn’t bother visiting anymore, this time he no longer keeps the pretense up, he waves back, though a bit limply because Momo doesn’t even see it, only facing forward, sure in her goal. (Be careful what you wish for and all that.)

So when Grandma says at the end that Toshiro didn’t want to make her lonely, it brings to mind what she said while scolding Toshiro that he shouldn’t say what he said because doesn’t Momo leaving make him feel lonely? He doesn’t deny it either, only pretends that everything is ok and that she’ll be back soon anyway. It’s also no coincidence, I think, that Granny wanted to talk to him right after Momo visited again. In other words, he didn’t want to make Granny lonely the same way Momo leaving made him feel lonely. But that theme of loneliness also applies to Hyourinmaru. Both sword and master would always feel lonely if Toshiro never discovered his name. And if you take Bleach Track 8 as canon (which I do because I love that Drama CD), there’s something to be said about Toshiro discovering Hyourinmaru’s name out of a desire to protect Momo, and Momo being the first to discover him discovering his shikai and subsequently calling him ‘Hitsugaya-kun’ without any prompting this time. In a way, it was a mark of growing up for Toshiro. That’s why there’s plenty of underlying themes between Hyourinmaru and Hinamori in relation to Toshiro that I love to see explored, which @rays-of-fire-and-ice does wonderfully in their fic! That theme of loneliness was also present in Momo during the Soul Society arc (and truthfully for a lot of characters) when she must have felt so isolated because of everything going on around her.

Laying it all out like this, you can really see the parallels with how Toshiro wakes up to both Momo and Rangiku, and how the line “I hear a voice” gets repeated for both Momo and his Granny. I don’t know how intentional Kubo really is with references to mythology, but it’s a fun coincidence to liken the three of them to the fates - Momo as the Maiden, Rangiku as the Mother, and Grandma as the crone - all pivotal to Toshiro’s path.

#hitsugaya toshiro #hitsuhina #hinamori momo #matsumoto rangiku #bleach #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina #toshiro’s granny #do we still not have a name?? #I feel like someone on Klub should ask Kubo #that one moment of hyourinmaru sitting between hinamori and hitsugaya during that flower viewing party sticks with me for some reason #like why hyourinmaru? #was it a coincidence? #did he want to look after both hinamori and hitsugaya? #I can spin so many stories from that one anime moment alone #and I also cannot get over how he left his granny despite how much it broke his heart because he was harming her #but when he did the worst thing he could imagine doing to momo #he didn’t remove himself from her life #and instead reaffirmed his will to protect her #I’m sure the guilt was there and there was probably a time when he couldn’t face her #as shown when Momo says it was Rangiku and Shinji who helped her recover after FK #but if you believe they grew apart during the Aizen years and Soul Society arc #like gin and rangiku and renji and rukia #it’s nice to know that they both learned from the past #and resolved to hold on to the things dear to them #rather than letting go #to tie rather than untie #and this is why filler stuff is great for stuff like this #to know that amidst all the seriousness of war #they still do hang out and spend time together outside of work post-Aizen

[alexiethymia]

I keep thinking about the dramatic irony of how, in Hinamori and Hitsugaya’s first meeting, Hitsugaya surprises her by hiding his reiatsu and sneaking up behind her, but in the closing of the Soul Society arc, the tragedy in Central 46 only happens because Hinamori manages to hide her reiatsu and sneak up behind Hitsugaya to follow him.

And also how, Hitsugaya is set-up as being conscious of his title through his repeated reminders to Hinamori to call him ‘Hitsugaya-taichou’ (in the manga and even in the extra material, their every interaction almost always has this line; Hinamori is probably the one person he wants most to acknowledge him as a Captain), but at the moment of truth, he is fine with absolutely discarding his position as a captain if it means he can avenge Hinamori. 

#hitsuhina #hitsuhina meta #bleach #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #bleach meta #listen one of the reasons I love them so much #is because of all of the dramatic ironies #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina

[alexiethymia]

I love talking about Hitsugaya > Momo that I hardly get to talk about Momo > Hitsugaya. It’s both sweet and funny to me that Momo, one of the top scorers in the entrance exam, is late on very first day because she wanted to wake up Shiro-chan for breakfast and to say goodbye to him and grandma (and her friends) properly.

This is also a note to self when writing Momo (although of course people have different interpretations) but it occurs to me that Momo isn’t necessarily a naturally vivacious girl. I’ve always thought of her that way because the image of her that sticks most to mind is the bright open-mouthed smile she gives to Hitsugaya when he wakes up (as well as when she leaves, she’s blushing and cheerful, and when she returns for summer breaks). The anime differs from the manga in that it can fill in the gaps, but in the manga, I don’t recall her showing that smile to anyone else, except only when she’s back in Jurinan. Even after two months in Shinigami Academy in Prelude of the Straying Stars, there’s none of that bright cheerfulness when she gets grouped up with Renji and Kira, although of course she’s still friendly. What’s prominent is her worry, the same worry that was characteristic of her when she first appears in the manga. It’s only when she and Hitsugaya end up first interacting (in the manga) that we see she’s actually a playful and energetic girl as well. That is to say that perhaps it takes Momo awhile (although a relatively short while) to warm up to people, and then she shows her more cheerful and energetic side. This is normal to Toshiro, this is the side of her that he’s always known which is why it would make sense that he would think that perhaps Momo was happier at Shinigami Academy (and also why it would impact him more when she cries). That is to say, in the same way Toshiro is gentler towards Momo, although the difference may be slight, I think she also smiles brightest at him or with him.

There is a part two to this since I want to talk about Death on the Ice Field as well.

#hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #hitsuhina #bleach #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina #it’s about treating the person you love in a special way

[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

[alexiethymia]

reaction

summary: [Post-TYBW] There's news over at the tenth.

[read on ao3]

notes: all references to individual squad members are credited to @rays-of-fire-and-ice, unless otherwise stated. (I hope it’s ok if I borrow your babies for this fic. ;-;)

part 1

The sun was shining brightly and the sky was a calm blue with hardly a cloud in the sky. The weather was mild with soft winds drifting lazily past. There were no unexpected explosions, invasions, mayhem, or general chaos. In other words, it was the perfect atmosphere for sleeping. Heck, even Zaraki was probably taking a day off with how peaceful it was.  

So why, Shinji thought while yawning loudly as he lounged against a tree, were two squads crammed together in a courtyard on such a fine day such as this one? Perhaps that wasn’t such a generous assessment. The tenth squad’s courtyard was certainly big enough to host all the members of the two squads. At least, Shinji thinks wryly, it was certainly bigger than the fifth’s own compound. And anyway if they held this little assembly over at theirs there was no doubt footprints would be tracked all over the flowers they had painstakingly and carefully raised over the years.

Shinji wasn’t really the gardening type at first, but Momo could be really persuasive when she wanted to be, and she did have a point that it was a great bonding activity for the whole squad. In exchange, there was always someone who’d accompany him fishing, with Momo being the most frequent victim—er, volunteer. And now he was as protective as anyone from the fifth over their little garden so he’d definitely be annoyed if anyone stepped on his snapdragons and lilies-of-the-valley.

It was a moot point as the tenth readily offered their facilities considering at least half of the responsibility in calling this meeting fell on them.

Not even trying to stifle his yawn he observed the members of the tenth from under the shade. Everyone was in perfect formation, backs stiff and posture straight, with not a hint of confusion or annoyance at being called out on a beautiful day better served for lazing about. Shinji sighed with feeling. The tenth took after their captain too well. Surely, you could see the years of impeccable discipline instilled in them by their commander from their demeanor alone. He sighed again. How boring.

Shifting his eyes to the side, he observed his own company. They weren’t as stiff as the squad opposite them, with a few engaging in conversation and wondering why they were called out. Still, each one of his men and women was in perfect position and not breaking ranks. Shinji almost felt disappointed. Clearly, his influence was still not enough and he needed to do more to teach those under him the value of spontaneity. He wouldn’t have them be all boring like the tenth so long as he was captain. A few did shoot him questioning glances which he waved away with a hand. They were probably wondering why he wasn’t up there at the front since this was supposed to be a joint announcement from the fifth and the tenth squad leaders.

This joint assembly may have been organized by the two squads but he certainly had nothing to do with it. Sure, he’d given his permission for it, counter-signing the memo the tenth had sent over, but that was only because of who had asked.  

The very same person whose influence was apparent on those who followed her, the same one who was probably the reason why everyone had woken up bright and early just to gather here with no prior information whatsoever. Shinji grumbled internally. Hardly anyone woke up on time whenever he invited them to go fishing. Thank goodness at least for sweet-natured lieutenants.

Speaking of lieutenants, he spies the tenth’s very own bounding over towards him. Raising a hand in a lazy wave of acknowledgment, he just waits until she draws near.

“Hirako-taichou! Glad you could make it.”

“Rangiku-chan,” he greets, “As if I could miss it. Ya have anythin’ ta do with this ‘surprise’ announcement?”

“Fufufu,” Eyes sparkling, Rangiku leans over, as always careful not to let her generous bounty spill, and confides to the fifth division captain, “It’s so cute when he relies on me, you know? I told him as long as he followed my advice, he was guaranteed one hundred percent success. And I was right!” She looked like she was about to do a little dance, and Shinji really couldn’t blame her. No doubt she was overjoyed for her two close friends. “With a favor like this, I’m sure I can get away with no paperwork for a year, no, make that five years!” Or that, she was probably overjoyed because of that.

“Kidding aside though,” Rangiku’s eyes softened as she adopted a slightly wistful look, “I’m truly and honestly happy for them.” Shinji stayed quiet. There was a history there he wasn’t privy to and had only observed from the sidelines. “But,” she turns suddenly to him, as if wanting to shake off the memories, “You don’t sound surprised at all. Taichou wouldn’t have told anyone, and she told me to keep it a secret.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “When ya get ta my age, you just know things.” He grins at her in what he thinks is a rakish manner, but from the blonde’s skeptical look probably didn’t have the desired effect.

To be honest, there was no way he wouldn’t have picked up on it with how often his lieutenant’s head was up in the clouds these days. She would often look at the flowers outside in a daze while smiling dreamily. It wasn’t to the point that she’d forget to remind him to do his work, but once she started giggling and blushing as she cupped her cheeks in her palms, he was sorely tempted to ask if she needed to visit the fourth for a while. The moment he received that memo and then the subsequent hell butterfly inviting all the members of the fifth and tenth squads to the tenth squad courtyard one early morning, he finally got it.

Some of his own company members were looking over at the both of them probably wondering about the subject of their conversation. In contrast, the tenth squad members were resolutely facing the front as they waited for their captain. He was about to ask Matsumoto if all her squad members took after their captain in that they all had sticks up their—when the fusuma of the tenth captain’s private quarters finally opened and out stepped their leader.

No one was surprised to see him accompanied by the fifth squad’s lieutenant as they both went down to meet their squads. Nowadays it wasn’t uncommon to find the two together. Rather, the collective sentiment around Soul Society was that it was about damn time.

On one of his drinking sessions with Lisa and the tenth squad lieutenant, the latter had sworn him to secrecy upon pain of death, no something much worse, upon threat of shaving him bald, that he would never ever tell anyone what she was about to tell him.

The fact that she was threatening a captain meant she was absolutely plastered by that point and alcohol had always made for loose lips. But what the heck, he never said he was above gossip. As he waited for her big revelation while Lisa calmly sipped at her sake cup and pretended not to listen, Rangiku whisper-shouted that she thought the only reason her captain hadn’t yet confessed to his vice-captain was that he was waiting until he could be taller than her once again.

As he processed the stray thought that the much shorter captain was actually once taller than Momo, the rest of the statement eventually caught up with him and he was reduced to holding his stomach and banging his hand on the table as he laughed without abandon. Lisa remained cool-faced but Shinji could spot the twitch of her cheek from a mile away. Rangiku-chan was right to threaten him since should this observation ever get out, the tenth squad captain would never live it down and probably wring his lieutenant’s neck in the process.

Hitsugaya Toshiro was normally known for his patience. Shinji guesses you’d have to be with a lieutenant like Matsumoto. ‘Normally’ that is if you didn’t count people-who-must-not-be-named and threats to his precious childhood friend. Sure enough, he waited, at the very least until he was half an inch taller than Momo. Everyone sighed a collective sigh of relief when a picture of Momo kissing the normally stoic captain on the cheek surfaced on the front page of the Sereitei Bulletin. Strangely, the normally cool and composed captain was blushing red to his ears in the photo.

It could be surmised from the casual clothes they were wearing that they were about to visit their hometown. The two of them had been in an area with no people although you could see part of Jidanbo’s leg in the corner. The most devout of fans of the (strangely, in his candid opinion) popular captain could easily pass it off as two childhood friends being exceedingly affectionate with one another. It was probably no coincidence that those same fans were also the ones who were likely to be the most in denial. Yes, they usually could pass it off if not for the fact that also caught in the picture were the two holding hands with fingers tightly intertwined. Also strange was the fact that Hisagi Shuuhei could not be found for an entire month after that.

Shinji snickered to himself. As soon as he’d accomplished his goal, the captain likely could not help himself. It looks like the same pattern was repeating once again as not even three years later there was now this announcement. He doesn’t blame either of them. They had both been waiting for far too long after all. Yes, Hitsugaya Toshiro was normally known to be patient – except for one person.

Shinji observed the two carefully. The captain had grown a few more inches taller than his long-time companion since then, a fact which no doubt pleased him (those naps did eventually come in handy). He kept his hands hidden away from view inside the sleeves of his shihakusho - to look more formal in the company of his men perhaps? Or more likely to prevent himself from instinctually grabbing hold of the brunette’s hands. Shinji snorts, wanting to tell him that whatever façade he wanted to present to his men was a lost cause. There was no hiding that tender look in his eyes that encompassed only one person or that infinitely soft smile on his face. He knew Hyourinmaru was a powerful weather-type zanpakuto, but was it also a coincidence that the weather today perfectly reflected the state of contentment his master felt?

Momo for her part was probably eager to reciprocate. That blush seemed content to permanently make its home on her cheeks. Shinji notes how her hands fidget as they clasp together in front of her, and her eyes as she gazes up at her young captain, shine like stars.

In a while, both companies settle down and wait with bated breath. Shinji leans back against his perch once more while Rangiku grins with a hand to her waist as they wait for the announcement.

Momo lifts her hands as if in prayer and speaks softly, but her voice is clear as it rings across the entire courtyard. Hitsugaya-taichou stands behind her as he waits for her to finish.

A second stretches by too long that it seems like an eternity, so much so that Shinji wonders if he activated Sakanade by accident. But then, finally, a reaction.

Shinji can honestly say he’s not surprised so he doesn’t act shocked after Momo finishes sharing her wonderful news.

He is, however, surprised at how everyone else is acting.

Not even a second later and half of the courtyard is unrecognizable from the well-ordered and disciplined unit which was standing there just now. There are hoots and hollers and excited jumping. The peaceful air is broken by shrieks and an assorted number of materials – coins, accessories, and even an entire shihakusho – being thrown up in the air. He sees some members even kneeling on the ground with arms outstretched to the heavens. They hardly resemble a respected squad of the Gotei 13, more like drunken party-goers. In short, there was utter chaos.

Ah, Shinji thinks, he almost forgot that this was Matsumoto’s squad too. The woman in question would not be beaten in her enthusiasm as she cried into her scarf that she was so touched her little taichou had finally grown up.

The tenth squad captain is incredulous, and dare Shinji say, even embarrassed, as he looks at the unbecoming (for him) behavior his squad is displaying, and in the presence of another squad too.

Shinji looks to his own squad and doesn’t realize he’s mirroring Hitsugaya’s flabbergasted expression. In contrast to the tenth squad, the fifth squad was the complete opposite. Most of the unseated officers were crying, while the seated officers had doomsday expressions on their faces. He noticed Tomoko-chan comforting a new recruit, Higuchi narrowing his eyes at the tenth division captain in a way that would nearly get him reprimanded if he was a different sort of captain, and even the usually optimistic Isawa looking worried. In other words, it was as if the end of the world had come for his squad.

What in the world?

#hitsuhina #hirako shinji #matsumoto rangiku #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #bleach #fifth squad #tenth squad #hitsuhina fanfic #hitsuhina fic #bleach fanfic #bleach fic #ramblings about hitsuhina #ramblings about bleach #reaction

[alexiethymia]

realization

summary: [Post-TYBW] Momo falls in love. It's messy business. 

[read on ao3]

part 1

It happens on an ordinary day.

They’re in his office sharing amanatto from Isane-fuku –no, Isane-taichou now (she still feels echoes of sadness. It seems so unfair for someone so kind to just be gone, for Momo to still remain when the reason she – and many others – remains alive in the first place is no longer here, and yet -), the weather is pleasant, a mild breeze entering through the open window that she cannot help but feel at peace.

When before, Isane-san might have joined her, unfortunately, her new responsibilities keep her busy. Rangiku-san, for some reason, had escaped with a hearty wave and a cheeky wink that she still had trouble deciphering. It was fortunate that her captain hadn’t been there when she made her speedy exit (however knowing Rangiku-san, it had probably been intentional), so when Hitsugaya-kun returns to a room bereft of his vice-captain, and containing only a package of amanatto and a sheepish smile, he can only sigh in resignation.

He apologizes for doing work while she’s visiting, but this – him at his desk, eyes glued to his papers but keeping an ear out, and her, animated and gushing about the newest manga she’s been reading – is more than enough for Momo.

He hadn’t really understood, but Momo was nothing if not a voracious reader, so when Hirako-taichou had brought back picture books from the Living World called ‘manga’ from his friends, it was inevitable that she’d get hooked. She even managed to get Nanao-san to join in her latest reading obsession, not without a lot of nudging from Yadomaru-taichou. Still, not even Yadomaru-taichou could get either of them to try out the racier ones she preferred.

It is in the midst of her latest spiel on the ending of a manga she had been reading (‘-so moving, even when it seemed like she loved another, he was steadfast-’ eyebrows bunched together in confusion, ‘I thought this was a story about hanafuda’ ‘It’s karuta, Shiro-chan.’ His unimpressed look shows he still didn’t understand the difference.) that he suddenly interjects.

“So it’s the same as that manga,” it’s awkward in his mouth, but he says it anyway, and only with a slight grimace, “with the princess and her guardian?”

Here, Momo stops, stares. “Which one?”

He waves the hand holding his brush around in a lazy gesture, “The one where the princess was betrayed by her first love who kills her father, and she runs away with her guardian. You said she eventually falls in love with her guardian who’s loved her since childhood.”

Momo continues to stare. Hitsugaya-kun, misunderstanding her gaze, shifts his eyes away, “Did I get it wrong?”

Momo flails, waving her arms wildly, “No, no! You’re right, it’s just like that one. It’s just…” She bites her lip, hesitating on whether or not to continue. Hitsugaya-kun merely raises a brow, waiting.

Momo shakes her head. It’s silly. It’s just that, she talked about that one with him, months and months ago. This is the first time they’ve actually been alone since the invasion. Whenever she’d go off-tangent, he’d be nodding along absentmindedly as he scrutinized another report Rangiku-san left unfinished. She’d always assumed he wasn’t really interested and Momo didn’t begrudge him that since she knew with certainty that he’d give her his full attention if it was something truly important. It was just nice to spend time with him.

She’d actually forgotten about that particular story till he mentioned it. It had resonated with her, a story about admiration turning into poison. Reading that story made her feel like water was filling her lungs, and yet she still pushed through, just so she could see that girl of fire reignited.

“It’s actually not yet finished. We still don’t know what happens to the both of them from here on out…” she says quietly, in contrast to her earlier energy. Hitsugaya-kun only nods. Funny, she remembers that story made her feel like drowning, so why is it that now, as she looks into Hitsugaya-kun’s eyes, she feels like burning like that girl of fire? (It was a story that resonated with her.)

That particular interaction done, Momo expects Hitsugaya-kun to go back to his reports, expects it, wishes it even (if only so she no longer has to look into his eyes). Instead, not only does he continue looking at her, he surprises her by saying,

“Your hair has gotten longer.”

She brushes the ends of her hair self-consciously, “What are you talking about, Shiro-chan? No, it hasn’t. It’s still the same.”

“Yes, it has,” he drawls.

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Yes, it has.”

Momo pouts. This is silly. What they’re doing is silly, arguing about her hair of all things.

Momo is happy about where they’ve ended up after the invasion. Shiro-chan’s shoulders are lighter as if his captain’s cloak isn’t so heavy anymore. The lines on his face have lessened, and Momo couldn’t be more thankful. But just because she was happier that he smiled more didn’t mean she wasn’t entitled to feel disgruntled at the self-satisfied smirk on his face, no matter how slight it may be.

She was about to launch into another denial when he surprises her yet again.

Shiro-chan – Hitsugaya-kun reaches his arm across his desk toward her. He lets his fingertips kiss the ends of her short hair, and brushes a wayward strand away from her forehead, before retreating.

It is only then that Momo breathes out (she didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath in the first place).

“Be careful,” he says, voice sly, “You don’t want to burn your hair off accidentally – again – like that disastrous kido training session.”

It takes a while for her to place the event, but when she does, she really can’t help the full-blown pout. Oh, she’s worked herself up and crossed the threshold to righteous indignation (otherwise, she’ll have to examine everything else going on right now). “Honestly, Hitsugaya-kun! That only happened because you weren’t paying attention!” Actually no, she’d just been recruited into the Gotei, and Hitsugaya-kun right after her. She’d been so excited to train with him (to impress him if she was being honest) that things got out of hand and her hair got caught in a shakkaho spell.

(She can’t believe she forgot, but now that she remembers, what sparks vividly in her memories is the rapid transition of Hitsugaya-kun’s expression from feigned disinterest to heart-stopping panic.)  

Graciously, Hitsugaya-kun doesn’t contradict her version of events, but he does catch her attention, “Hinamori,” just one word, her name, so firmly that she pauses (and holds her breath again) when he smiles (not a smirk or a grin, but a true-blown smile that she’s only ever glimpsed once-), “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not ‘Hitsugaya-kun’, it’s ‘Hitsugaya-taichou’.”

Oh.

This isn’t Shiro-chan’s smile, because she’s hardly ever seen him smile when they were kids.

Oh.

It’s not that his cloak isn’t heavy anymore, it’s just that he’s grown into it, even if in truth he’s only grown a mere centimeter.

Oh.

This is what she’d felt back then when she’d first seen that smile, this disquiet and unease, and curious perfect blankness that she’d felt when she realized that her Shiro-chan had transformed into a captain. That same feeling that she was being left behind, but still, the awe that she could not help, as she gazed at him soaring in the heavens, her Shiro-chan (because no matter what he would always be her Shiro-chan) protecting them all. This same feeling she’d pushed aside, unconsciously, time and again, in order to avoid thinking about it, because otherwise everything would – change.

(Oh, she finally understands, Rangiku-san.)

It happens on an ordinary day. The light doesn’t hit him just right. He hasn’t grown any taller than her. They still haven’t finished the amanatto Isane-taichou carefully packed for them as a souvenir. That brilliant smile slowly fades away into a look of confusion, the more she sits there, gaping at him, “Hinamori?”

It is on a perfectly ordinary day that Momo realizes she’s in love with him.

Him.

Hitsugaya-taichou.

Hitsugaya-kun.

Shiro-chan.

“Hinamori…?” He asks again, this time worry coloring his voice. He reaches out a tentative hand, but Momo bolts upright. She consciously stills her arms against her sides, else she’ll instinctually try and cover her (burning, burning) face.

“Hi-Hitsugaya-taichou!” She stuttered! She has never stuttered in front of him. She feels conscious of everything - her too-loud voice, the ends of her hair brushing her shoulders, her fisted hands, her scarlet face. “I beg your leave. I forgot that I have to meet with Hirako-taichou right about…now. Yes, now! I have to go right at this moment. Bye!”

And before Hitsugaya can so much as grasp at her – to ask what on earth was wrong, he didn’t expect his oft-repeated reminder to garner such a reaction, it was habit by now, was she mad at him, did he do anything – she has already shunpoed away leaving behind only the scent of peach blossoms, and a confused captain in her wake.

-

“Momo! Where’s the fire? What’s got ya in so much of a hurry?” One thing that Shinji noticed about his lieutenant was how graceful she was. Even when she was only walking, she always seemed so light on her feet, as if dancing on flower petals. There is none of that grace, here, now, as she barrels head first into him.

“Taichou!” Her head shoots up, voice so panic-stricken that Shinji’s heart jolts. He places the back of his hand against her forehead. “Ya running a fever or somethin’? If you’re sick, you should head to the fourth. Don’t go runnin’ yourself ragged, I promise I’ll finish all the paperwork.”

She shakes her head lightly. “Never mind that,” Wait, what? Momo not reminding him about his paperwork? This must be serious. “Do you notice anything different about me, Hirako-taichou?”

“Besides you bein’ outta breath, ya mean?” Even if he had no idea whatsoever about what was going on with his lieutenant, Shinji still decided to indulge her. If anyone deserved a scheduled psychotic break, it was her. He grasped his chin in hand and scrutinized her. Ah, he knew what this was about. His face was introduced enough times to a straw sandal for him to not say the right thing this time around.

“Don't worry, you haven’t gotten fatter. Heck, I think you should eat more. You’re light as a bird.” There, Hiyori would have no excuse to kick his face in now.

“Thank you, sir,” she says, voice clipped, “But no, I mean do you think my hair has gotten longer?”

Shinji narrows his eyes and looks closer, huffs out, “Nah, it hasn’t changed a bit.”

Evidently, that had been the wrong thing to say. Flabbergasted, Shinji could only watch as his lieutenant buried her face into her hands to muffle a frustrated scream.

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #hirako shinji #bleach #fanfic #fic #hitsuhina fic #bleach fic #I firmly believe momo and nanao eventually start a manga circle with shinji and lisa #I always read fics about shiro-chan's unrequited love #but for some reason I always think that when momo realizes she's in love #with her oldest friend even #she would definitely be bad at dealing with her feelings #hitsugaya has had years to deal with his feelings #he's fine he's at peace #meanwhile momo is just a disaster waiting to happen #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina

[alexiethymia]

realization

summary: [Post-TYBW] Momo falls in love. It’s messy business.

[read on ao3]

part 1 / part 2

Renji was having a strange night.

It started with an innocent enough invitation, to come drink with the fifth division lieutenant. Now, Rukia might call him an emotional blockhead enough times, but he was confident that he was nowhere as bad as Kuchiki-taichou. So he had enough ‘sensitivity’ to note that it wasn’t so much the invitation that was strange considering who it came from, but the activity proposed, considering who it came from.

He joined Hinamori once or twice to some ikebana classes she’d invited him to, but he wasn’t such as insensitive buffoon that he wouldn’t understand that wasn’t exactly the best option now (he did listen to that second voice inside his head sometimes - and if it had the same voice as his wife, well that was no one’s business but his own). Even so, drinking wasn’t exactly Hinamori’s first choice of activity, neither was it her second or third, so he guesses that this must have been Rangiku-san’s idea, maybe another one of those informal lieutenant get-togethers.

Imagine his surprise at the scene he finds when he ducks down the low awning of the local izakaya Hinamori invited him to. It’s not that he’s surprised to find Hinamori there – tucking her hair behind her ear and taking delicate sips of her glass of water – since the invitation came from her after all, but rather he’s surprised at who he doesn’t find.

Hinamori sits alone at the table, surrounded by boisterous drunkards enjoying the end of a working day. It’s an incongruous sight, and though Renji knows that as a seated officer Hinamori could beat anyone in the room, it’s still jarring to see the normally sweet and demure girl in a place like this one. He rubs his hand through his hair sheepishly. Rukia would probably hit him for that thought. Rangiku-san is nowhere to be found; neither is Kira which is weird if this was supposed to be some sort of reunion.

Strange doesn’t mean unpleasant, and it’s been a while since Renji talked to Hinamori last, so with a wide wave, he catches her attention, “Oi, Hinamori!”

-

Renji’s night continues to become even stranger.

It’s not so much that Hinamori wrings her hands (which in retrospect he should have recognized as her habit when she was anxious about something), as she asks him, “Are you really sure Kuchiki-san won’t mind?”

Renji snorts. In the privacy of his mind, he remembers Rukia lecturing him about making sure “to take care of Hinamori fuku-taichou” before he left. He was miffed, “I get it already. Why’re ya so worried?”

“Baka Renji! It’s you I’m worried about.”

At that, Renji’s eyes softened. “You have nothing to worry about, Rukia. You know Hinamori and I are just friends…”

Rukia’s eyes widened before she laughed with tears in her eyes. Clutching her hands to her stomach, she chortled, “I’m not talking about that!” His eyebrow twitched. See if he was ever going to reassure his wife again after that.

Wiping away the tears from her eyes she stood up from her bowed position, still chuckling. She then fixed him with a serious and solemn gaze. “I’m serious, Renji. If anything happens to Hinamori fuku-taichou while she’s with you, drinking,” she emphasized while grinning, but then she paused and looked at him with a hum. “Well, your tolerance to cold has always been good. Maybe you’ll be just fine.”

Remembering Rukia’s mischievous gaze, Renji shivers in the present. That better not be a premonition. “Yeah, Rukia wouldn’t mind,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing, just talking to myself.” He says to reassure the other girl. Swinging himself onto the seat, he orders sake for the both of them. Once he pours out a cup for Hinamori, and she does the same for him, they kanpai and he asks her how she’s been doing.

“Oh, we’ve been doing great,” she chirps, comfortable now and a slight flush on her cheeks after just a few sips of sake. She’s always been a lightweight, Renji thinks bemused. “All the paperwork’s done. Hirako-taichou’s really outdone himself this time. I even had enough time to visit the fourth division, Kira-kun, Nanao-san, Rangiku-san, and…”

“Hm?” He wondered why she suddenly trailed off, and at the sudden red that seemed to be creeping up her cheeks that seemed too much for a cup of sake no matter how much of a lightweight she was. She squeaked and covered her mouth with both hands, as if trying to prevent words from coming out, “Never mind,” she laughed, although it didn’t sound like her usual carefree laugh to Renji. Eyes growing softer, she asked him, “How about you, Abarai-kun? How have you and Kuchiki-san been since the wedding?”

It was Renji’s turn to blush. He told her about how they had started settling in the Kuchiki manor, but mostly how it was just the same old, same old. Her eyes seemed to be watery as she listened to him riveted.

“Oi, don’t cry on me now, Hinamori.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she sniffled, “I’m just…I’m so happy for you,” she exclaimed, voice full of sincerity.

He grinned at her. “So, what’s up? I thought this was one of Rangiku-san’s drinking sessions. What’d I do to deserve the honor of receiving one of your rare – previously unheard of – invitation to drink?” He was joking, but also more than a bit curious.

Hinamori grew even redder as she whispered, “As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t invite Rangiku-san.”

Worried at that statement, he was about to ask if Hinamori really was in some sort of serious trouble when she suddenly said, “I wanted to ask your advice, Abarai-kun.”

And man did that feel good to hear. Worry abated for now, he grins at her. “Of course. What can I help you with?” He remembered old days. Usually, both of them would turn to Kira for their studies. Both she and Kira were great at kido, but he’d usually ask her for advice since he remembers feeling that competitive spirit towards Kira back then. In a way, she was also more patient.

It’s not just that though. He remembers confiding in her about things he thought he’d locked away, an ease that could only be felt in talking to a female friend, since back then he was still foolish about keeping up a tough façade and what was expected of him as a man. Before, he would have just talked to Rukia, but he couldn’t exactly do that in the after, and when the topic in conversation was the girl in question.

“Trust me, Abarai-kun! I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Renji had scratched his head in confusion. “I don’t know about this, Hinamori. Y’see Rukia’s not exactly a sweet girl like you. She’s tomboyish and brash. She’s the type to just kick your head in when she gets annoyed.” Even so, he still held the bouquet of snowdrops Hinamori helped him pick out for her birthday, adorned with a ribbon patterned with rabbits which Hinamori insisted that he have. “She’d probably ask what the heck I was doing.” He wasn’t exactly the type of person to give flowers.

Momo sighed deeply. Boys. “It’s exactly because she won’t be expecting it that she’ll find it sweet of you to do.” A private smile curves her lips as she remembers a younger boy than her classmate, certainly much shorter, with mud on his knees as he presented her with a scraggly sunflower he scrounged up from somewhere. It is with a scowl and reasons that he had no money to buy anything that he presented the bedraggled flower. It looked like it went through an ordeal, with the stem rough in some places and leaves fallen off, but the bloom itself had been bright and yellow like a lion’s mane. She couldn’t help the joy that bubbled out as she tackled her friend to the ground in a tight hug even as she was careful not to crush the beautiful gift.  

Maybe Renji had seen something in that secret smile because it is with courage renewed that he resolved to give his gift to Rukia. That is until he saw the high-class silks being carried into the Kuchiki estate. One was even patterned with snowdrops. Forlorn, he looked at his meager gift. It is with understanding in her gaze that Hinamori decides to keep the flowers placed sadly in her hands.

The Renji from back then probably wouldn’t believe the life he led now. He was lucky enough to be surrounded by friends, new and old, and to have his best friend back again, with him, in more ways than one. If he could help one of those friends out, then he’d do whatever he could.

Hinamori wrung her hands again. “I don’t know who else to ask,” she bites her lip, “No, that’s wrong. It’s actually because you’re the best person to ask.” Renji raises a brow as he waits for her to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Hinamori suddenly says in a rush, “I just wanted to ask, how did you deal with falling in love with Kuchiki-san!”

Renji blinks. Once. Twice. And blushes as red as his hair. “Wha-“

Hinamori gasps as if remembering herself. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for!”

There were so many things Renji could say. Renji didn’t actually “deal” with it, as Hinamori would very well know. She, along with Kira, Ikkaku-san, and Yumichika-san, sat on the front row seats watching him cope and avoid during those aimless days. He doesn’t know himself when he fell in love. Does anyone, really? It could have been one moment. It could have been all moments. He could say all of those things, but instead, he turns around Hinamori’s question in his mind. Unlike Hinamori who seems to be gulping her sake like water, he still has his wits about him. As if a figurative lightbulb pings, he asks, shocked, “Wait, Hinamori, you’re in love with someone?”

Renji winces, realizing a second too late that that tactless statement did indeed come from him. He must not have been holding his alcohol as well as he thought. (Rukia would have hit him twice over for that stunt if she were here). It is however a second too late for regrets as Hinamori suddenly burst into tears.

In panic mode, Renji gathers all the napkins he can find and shoves them to her as he reassures the curious patrons suddenly looking over at their table, “It’s fine, it’s fine, just getting a bit emotional is all.”

Her sobs slow as she hiccups but Renji is far from relieved. She had always been a crying sort of drunk. Perhaps it was a good thing Kira wasn’t here else he’d have to console two crying drunks.

Wait, she said he was the best person to ask, probably because he fell in love with an old friend. If so, that means Hinamori had fallen in love with an old friend too. Inwardly he cheered, pointing at imaginary chibi figures of his wife and Ichigo. Take that, he thought, he could connect the dots well enough on his own. (Enough to say, Renji must have been drunker than he thought.)

Before he could feel preemptive delight on behalf of their common friend, he pauses, thinks. Old friend, huh? “Er…who exactly are you in love with Hinamori?”

Hinamori, sniffles, completely red now and Renji can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the embarrassment. “Won’t tell,” she pouts childishly.

Seeing as she’s a bit calmer now, Renji decided to poke fun. Hinamori was fiery and sassy in her own right, though he rarely got to see it, so this was a rare chance. With a toothy grin, he prods, “Ha, serves you right for being so oblivious all these years. Now you’ll understand the agony of love just like the rest of us mere mortals.” Because this was a happier night in a happier time, neither of them dared acknowledge former captains. Betrayals had no place in a lighthearted moment between old friends.

Affronted, Momo firmly placed both her hands on the table with a bang. Hmmm, their table seemed to be a bit wobbly. “Oblivious?! Since when have I ever been oblivious?”

If Abarai-kun’s eyebrows went any higher, they’d disappear beyond his hairline and take all his tattoos with them. She laughs uncontrollably at the thought.

Renji looks at her weirdly and decides not to point out the obvious. One because he doesn’t betray the secrets of good friends, and two because he doesn’t want frostbitten fingers. He decides to list out other examples instead, “Hinamori, you’ve always been oblivious. Those kouhai? They weren’t just crowding around you because you were such a ‘good’ senpai,” at the pout he sees on her face, he amends, “Well yes, you were a good senpai, but it wasn’t only because of that.”

Hinamori still doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t believe you. I’m nothing like Rangiku-san. And anyway, no one said anything.”

“No one is like Rangiku-san,” Renji says solemnly in lieu of what he actually wanted to say which was to the effect of, none of our kouhai said anything probably because of another kouhai of ours, who funnily enough, ended up being our superior.

Ha, funny indeed.

He remembers when he first met Hitsugaya-taichou, or the kid who would become Hitsugaya-taichou anyway. He’d only been Hinamori’s ‘Shiro-chan’ back then.

She’d introduced them because Hinamori was the type of person who liked it when her friends got along. At hearing the nickname, he snorted and didn’t even try to stifle the laugh that came out.

It was like they were in their own little world as the newer student reminded her to stop calling him that nickname already!

At hearing him laugh though, the other boy fixed him with a cool stare. He took it as a challenge, “You wanna go, kid?”

He raised one white brow, unimpressed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Abarai-kun…” Kira muttered off to the side. He turned away at the same time Hinamori was scolding the younger boy about using violence, who went back to fully ignoring the both of them to argue with his childhood friend. Genius or no, that kid really needed to respect his elders. And Kira didn’t have to warn him. It’s not as if he’d seriously beat on a kouhai.

Later on, he realizes that Kira hadn’t been warning him about being too rough on the other boy, but rather it was the other way around. This realization is stark as he lays down defeated in a practice match with the boy genius.

It was during that period that he lost touch – no that’s not correct, cut off his ties – with Rukia. So even if he was Hinamori’s precious childhood friend, with all that natural talent and genius, it was easy for Renji who was scraping at the bottom just to reach that lofty moon, to resent him. Geniuses could never understand the struggles of ordinary people.

It made him feel a bit better to know that Kira was also a bit wary of the younger boy, though it is later that Renji realizes that perhaps his friend’s reasons were a bit more complex than his own.

Once, Hinamori tells him, “No one knows just how hard he’s working. Sometimes, I worry that he’s pushing himself too much.” Not wanting to upset her, he gave a noncommittal hum. In the privacy of his mind, he scoffed. What did a boy genius like him ever need to work hard for?

He gets his answer, years later, in the worst of ways. Through a kido spell, through a hospital visit, through broken recollections from a common friend, as Kira gasped with tears in his eyes that Hitsugaya-taichou was cut down - bankai unleashed in a fit of rage at seeing her lifeless body, and ultimately rendered useless – trying to protect her, while she was hurt again because of him, the worst, he was the worst.

Although he tries to comfort Kira with alcohol, he also remembers the phantom weight of Rukia in his arms, there and gone again, helpless to stop her from being taken away.

He had been unfair to the Captain, only seeing what he wanted to see, a person with natural talent with everything handed to him on a silver platter - everything Renji couldn’t have for himself. They were as far apart as could be.

But as he sees Hinamori all wrapped up in bandages, and breathing on life support, as he feels the remnant of a chill signifying the presence of one who had been here before him, he realizes that he had more in common with that young Captain than he had thought.

He shakes his head to rid himself of memories and focuses back on the girl in front of him. Her eyes are drooping as if she was ready to fall asleep at any moment. Really, for Renji, there could only be two candidates in mind, and though Renji remembers old days, of forcefully nudging his classmate to finally make a move already (those had been simpler times after all), he also cannot help the odd sense of camaraderie he feels with the ice-cold Captain. He, better than anyone, understands the bond between childhood friends.

“So, what’re you so worried about?” At the very least if it was the issue of reciprocation, Hinamori had nothing to worry about on that score. One would probably die of shock if she confessed. The other had already proven he would die (and kill) for her. Sheesh, he doesn’t think he gets that intense when it comes to Rukia.

“I’m just...I’m worried everything will change,” she says softly.

Renji sighed, “Everything changes Hinamori. There’s nothing you can do about that.”

“It’s not like I plan to confess.” Wait, what? Renji double-takes at that. She smiles ruefully at him. “I want us to stay friends. I don’t want anything to change, but it’s like I can’t control myself.”

“Would it be so bad, to confess?” Renji has it on good authority that she’d have a good success rate no matter who it was she was talking about.

She laughs, most certainly drunk now. “Like I told you, Abarai-kun. I’m nothing like Rangiku-san,” a silly smile crosses her face as Renji once again looks at her confused, wondering what that had to do with anything, “I’m not good enough.” Her smile becomes more strained, and before Renji can berate her for that self-mocking display, she raises both her hands all of a sudden, “Ahhhh, it’s such a shame. Rangiku-san would be the best person to talk to about this. But, for the same reason, she’s also the worst person to talk to about this.” Well, that tells him nothing.

Deciding to act on a hunch, he suggests, “Well, maybe you can try asking Hitsugaya-taichou’s older brother?”

Hinamori narrows her eyes at him. She’s actually looking a bit crossed-eyed like that. Maybe it was a sign that he’d caught her out? “Silly, Abarai-kun,” he was expecting she’d say something like how could I talk to my crush’s brother, because honestly he understood the feeling, never mind that his briother-in-law and captain were the same person (at least now he’d know for certain who she was talking about), “Shiro-chan doesn’t have a brother!” And with that as a parting statement, she unceremoniously conks out and promptly falls asleep.

Wait, what?

“Oi, Hinamori!”

-

Renji hopes that this is the last of it, but the night is still long, and for some reason, he has a premonition that his night is about to take a turn from strange to bad.

It may have something to do with the whispers around him that he tries to tune out. He doesn’t blame them much as it may be concerning to see a man carrying an unconscious woman in the middle of the night. But he was a gentleman, damn it! He couldn’t leave a friend, much less a girl, dead drunk and alone. If Kira was here, the both of them could have carried her, but even after all that he still wasn’t sure who she was talking about so that was a definite no. He’d normally have called Rangiku-san, but Hinamori seemed to be avoiding her for some reason, so he’d respect her wishes, and anyway the fifth wasn’t that far from the sixth.

It may have to do something with how Hinamori kept muttering about how hot it was in his arms. Rukia always said that Renji tended to run hotter than most (and in her sweeter moments she��d say that was why she was perfect for him), and with Hinamori more or less the same, he imagines it would be doubly uncomfortable for her.

Or it may have something to do with how Hinamori was currently trying to remove one arm from the sleeve of her shihakusho because “Iwazz too hot!” while Renji frantically tried to stop her with one arm. Scratch that, Kira would be more of a hindrance than a help here. Why were his friends such outrageous drunks? “Nooooooo, Hinamori. You don’t want to do that. That is a bad idea.”

But really, it probably had something to do with the deathly chill he felt behind his back. He wondered what this must look like to an observer, Hinamori unconscious and one arm bare, while he held the sleeve of her shihakusho as he carried her in his arms. He closed his eyes and prayed to whoever would listen that it was his wife. He’d take a beating from her any day, as opposed to the alternative…But when he sees Hinamori calm and settle down at the breeze that caresses her face, Renji sighs in resignation as he turns and faces his doom.

A million paranoid thoughts run through his mind – did the patrons back at the bar report a crying girl and it reached him, did he have a tracker developed by the twelfth stuck on her by any chance, was he just that scarily attuned to the reiatsu of the sleeping girl in his arms because he sure appeared around her ‘coincidentally’ an awful lot- all to distract him from meeting an irate and frosty gaze.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Ah, shit. Renji was never drinking again.

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #abarai renji #bleach #hitsuhina fic #hitsuhina fanfic #bleach fic #bleach fanfic #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina #realization #lots and lots of parallels

[alexiethymia]

Another thing I love about HitsuHina is how Hitsugaya hardly gets mad, if at all, at Momo. In a way, it’s a sign of his maturity from when he used to get annoyed when she ruffled his hair or called him Shiro-chan in the past.

He usually has three responses (well actually four) when someone opposite of him irks him. If it’s an opponent or someone he’s not close to, he’s cool, placid, formal (exception: Aizen and Gin hence I say four responses). If it’s more lighthearted, say friends or comrades, and they hit his pet peeve like not calling him taichou or treating him like a child, he gets visibly mad and annoyed (Matsumoto, Ichigo etc.). But the same actions which would otherwise ensure a glare towards any other person does not garner the same reaction whenever Hinamori does it. He always asks her to call him Taichou, but even though she’s the worst offender (barring Ichigo), he never gets mad. It may be tinged with teasing or resignation (and even that smile that one time) but he doesn’t get mad.

This is at play at lighthearted moments, and even in more serious moments (where it gets taken advantage of). He instantly forgives her when she says sorry, and he can’t even bring himself to get mad at her regai, mere images of her. Despite that they intended to kill him, he says it’s fine and can only be relieved the real Hinamori wasn’t involved (which is a whole other post in that his complex about Hinamori not getting hurt has transcended from physical harm to emotional harm as well. he couldn’t stand seeing her bleed and now he doesn’t even want to make her cry, however indirectly.)

In the words of another post, Hitsugaya has always treated Hinamori with utmost gentleness and delicacy compared to any other character (except his grandma).

But that is reciprocated on Hinamori’s end too. Even as she might get mad when he teases her, even when she thought he killed her captain, she couldn’t bring herself to be enraged at him, only confused and heartbroken.

#hitsuhina #bleach #hitsugaya toshiro #hinamori momo #other ships fight as a way of being close #like say shinji and hiyori #or renji and rukia #it’s nice to have these different dynamics #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina

[alexiethymia]

little things about hitsuhina and ginran I love (design-wise)

how kubo really designed them to be complementary

in the manga, rangiku’s hair is golden while gin’s hair is silver. even when they changed their hair color to strawberry blonde in the anime, they also changed her eyes from blue to silver-grey

even when gin defects, you have his white arrancar outfit with the aqua-blue sash, which complements rangiku’s black shihakusho and blush-pink scarf. it’s quite striking in the colored manga.  

the snake and virgin motif between the two of them, and even hades and persephone, I mean the both of them are also virgos (seriously the fact that they have the same birthday, and they count it on the day they met, they’re such soulmates)

the association of autumn and winter with the both of them (their favorite foods are dried persimmons, and rangiku most often remembers gin with snow)

you wouldn’t normally think that they have thematic links with their zanpakuto unlike say hitsugaya and hinamori with their ice and fire elements, but the fact that gin is also associated with foxes, and haineko’s hilt looks a bit like a fox is very cute to me (EDIT: Apparently, they do have a connection with their zanpakuto! Upon the reread, it seems that Shinsou’s bankai isn’t about how long or fast it contracts, rather it turns to dust for an instant, the moment it expands and contracts. Dust and Ash, wow. I don’t know if Kubo really planned all these out, but idc, I still love these bits and pieces.)

hitsugaya and hinamori are pretty obvious - smol to her tol, cold white snow to her earthy brown, ice and fire

despite hitsugaya’s element, I often associate them with spring and summer, especially since summer is when hinamori would visit home and they’d eat watermelon together

although both hitsugaya and rukia have ice as their element, their thematic connections with their respective childhood friends differ enough.

this is best reflected in hitsugaya’s and renji’s duet about their childhood friends. renji associates himself with dirt and being a stray, while he associates rukia with purity and the cleanness of snow. he’s a howling dog who longs for the moon, and one of rukia’s most famous attacks is tsukishiro or white moon. red and white are their colors.

hitsugaya meanwhile personifies the coldness of ice, while he considers hinamori’s smile and laughter to have been a “spring breeze” which warmed him

color-names and flower-names: there’s also slight symmetry as to their names. both gin’s and hitsugaya’s (or nick)names can refer to their hair colors (silver, white) while rangiku and momo’s names refer to flowers. rangiku or chrysanthemums are supposed to represent truth, and well we all know what gin is like. meanwhile, peach blossoms are spring flowers, while toshiro has the character for ‘winter’ in his first name. plum blossoms (or the ‘ume’ in tobiume), meanwhile, also bloom in late winter and early spring

#hitsuhina #ginran #renruki #bleach #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toshiro #matsumoto rangiku #ichimaru gin #abarai renji #kuchiki rukia #just #ships #things #ramblings about bleach #now that noble houses are getting more of a focus #I always wondered what the underlying dynamics were #between shinigami who were from noble houses #and shinigami from the rukongai #and what does soul society think about the fact that the strongest ice/water zanpakuto isn't in the hands of a noble kid #but someone from rukongai