For What the Future Holds
Prompt: forgiveness
Rating: K/General with mild themes
Setting: Starts Ichigo defeats Yhwach, continues into the very beginning of the ten year time skip. Thereâs also flashbacks to Toshiro and Momo's past dotted throughout.
Synopsis: Momo notices Toshiro is acting out of sorts ever since the war against the Quincy ended. Meanwhile, Toshiro tries to look to the future.
AN: Itâs finally DONE!!
I had the idea for this ages ago (around the time of Horizons, which is why they have a similar structure as youâll see), but it wasnât until the 'forgiveness' prompt for the @yearoftheotpevent came up that I finally sat down and wrote it out. It didn't turn out to be the main or overarching theme and the fic itself turned into quite the emotional piece to write ^^;
This was also partly written in light of my headcanon becoming canon! I was aware of the question from Klub Outside a long time ago, but Kubo has confirmed Toshiro and Momo were neighbours rather than living under the same roof, which has always been the scenario I saw for them when I was reading BLEACH and writing fic.
Finally, this fic also has a flashback that slightly ties into When the Souls Sleep and the World is Our Own, but only in that it was a deleted scene and I found a way to include it here instead. You donât have to read that fic to understand what happens in that scene, just that the setting is not long after they met.
Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy it!
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âI shouldâve told you about it earlier.â
Momo blinks, both at the quietness of Toshiroâs voice and the bowing of his head in her peripheral. She raises her gaze to his face from the now healed over wound on his arm, cancelling the kido as she shifts over to sit next to him. âTold me about what?â
He rolls the tattered sleeve down. He contemplates what to say, staring down at his lap. Behind him, Hyourinmaruâs hilt glints, and beyond, Shinji and Kyouraku watch over those theyâd dug out from the ruins earlier. Next to them, Nanao is communicating with someone in the Seireitei â Iemura, Momo suspects â trying to coordinate transportation for the injured, and Isane, bandaged up and still recovering from her own injuries, heals Aikawa. Far away at the Reioâs Palace, she can sense Rukia about to be reunited with her brother.
âThat form is why I was training in the caves,â Toshiro says, diverting Momoâs attention back to him. âI shouldâve told you about it sooner.
âYou mean Hyourinmaruâs Completed Form?â
He nods.
Was that all? She thinks to tease him, to make light of something he seems to be treating with more seriousness than needed, but she halts at his gaze. Itâs not the usual icy, determined one sheâs used to.
Heâs tired â and who could blame him after what theyâd gone through? â and it makes him look vulnerable. Something trembles within him, something heâd likely keep hidden behind many walls.
She offers a sympathetic smile. âWhy would you need to tell me about it?â
âThe way you reacted beforeâŚyou were startled. If youâd known before, it wouldnât have been as much of a shock. I apologise.â
Itâs true, sheâd been stunned, had even flinched with a loud gasp when she first saw him, and was perhaps even a little frightened. Sheâd stood there, mouth agape and speechless, unable to take her eyes away from him, even as her captain swore and asked who he was. She hadnât known how else to react, but later as he motioned her towards a piece of rubble to sit on as he explained how he had somehow become an adult, the shock wore off.
She had to resist the urge to hug him out of sheer relief, this was not the time or place for such high emotions. So sheâd gotten to work on healing his wounds after heâd transformed back â but only after the others had been found and pulled out from under the rubble.
âItâs all right,â she reassures. âIt was startling, yes, but I knew it was you. It was incredible, actually, but also not too surprising now that I know what it is."
Heâs stunned, but hides it quickly with a clearing his throat and a deepened frown. âHow so?â
âI didnât see all of the battle you and Captain Kuchiki did with the Quincy, but what I did see was amazing. You froze the Quincyâs shield in mid-air, within a second. A-And then you froze the Quincy completely! I thought for sure he was defeated then, truly.â
He nods to himself, remembering. âSo did I. He gave us more than we bargained for in the end.â
 âAt least heâs gone.â Momo sighs, and with it, a weight is released. âAt leastâŚitâs over.â Itâs like a vice has loosened around her head and chest. She lets out a shuddering breath and her eyes become watery. âWeâre okay, now.â
âWeâll have a lot to do when we get back, itâs notâŚâ Toshiro trails off when he meets her gaze again. His hand twitches at his side, clearly resisting moving it. After a beat, his lips shape into a faint smile and he letâs out a short, tired chuckle. âYou gonna cry, bed-wetter?â
She canât even be mad at the nickname, she becoming too overwhelmed. âNo, itâs not the time and place to.â Even as she says this, sheâs furiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
He shrugs. âNo one would blame you.â
âBut itâs like you said, we need to focus on the task at hand.â She gestures to the others a short distance away. âOn transporting the injured back and figuring out what our next steps are.â
âYeah, youâre right.â His smile widens a fraction. âI wonât tell anyone.â
Despite herself, she canât help but grin back. She sniffs and looks down. âIâm just so glad itâs over.â
He only nods with a hum.
A silence passes between them, and Momo slowly realises her own exhaustion. She has enough energy to cast lower powered kido, but even then she might be pushing it. She finds herself sitting back against the same piece of broken wall Toshiro is, listening to the distant chatter amongst their friends and wreckage crumbling and falling. She cranes her neck on the rubbleâs edge, looking up at the sky.
Sheâd seen him soar across it hours ago, only a spec at times, and a more recognisable figure at others. At one point, the cold of his reiatsu had washed over her like a gust in a blizzard, freezing and chilling her to bone. It ebbed away minutes later, but it made her realise the magnitude of his powers. She'd wondered if he had this power this entire time and had chosen not to unveil it until now, when he needed it most to protect the Soul Society. If he was capable of this now, who knew what he could achieve in the future.
But then her mind rolls into another thought, one that makes heat rush up the back of her neck to her ears and try to suppress a chuckle.
âWhat is it?â
By this point Toshiro had closed his eyes.
âItâs nothing important.â
He opens one eye, unconvinced. âThe spike your reiatsu said otherwise.â
She bites the inside of her cheek, chastising herself internally for not keeping it under control. Sheâs tired, but itâs no excuse. She lets out a small chuckle. âI was thinking that, in a funny way, Hyourinmaruâs Completed Form has given us a glimpse into the future. Itâs shown us what youâll look like when you grow up.â
She had meant it as a tease, to try and lighten the mood, but Toshiroâs frown deepens. As if realising his reaction was unexpected, he letâs out a snort. âAnything can happen between now and then to change how I look.â
The usual bite is not there. The response itself is strange, too.
Before she can ask, her captain comes up to both of them, asking for her help with moving Aikawaâs injured leg into a makeshift splint.
As she rises and leaves with her captain, Toshiroâs smile fades away, and he stares into his lap. No, into something else.
___________________________________
There was a time where future went as far as Granny.
What would she need today? What days was she planning to go out and shop? Would he need to help her with?
When would she pass away?
Toshiro never lingers on that last thought, always distracting himself with whatever he could. At the moment, itâs with sweeping the house and yard.
Heâs up to the front porch, pushing the dust and dirt off the edge with the broom. Granny is inside, sewing a new garment together for him.
âYouâve grown again,â sheâd remarked earlier with a smile. âYouâll need new clothes now.â
As far as he could tell he hadnât. The ground seemed to be as far away as it was a week ago, and he hadnât put on any weight. But he had to admit his clothes the last few days had seemed a fraction shorter at his legs and tighter around his shoulders.
Itâs a few minutes later when he hears yelling. A group of children rush past his house, some giggling, others chattering about Momo, who's at the center of attention. She excitedly tells them her application exam date, beaming so wide it must hurt her cheeks.
When was she going to the Academy?
That one stung, and he ignores it with a sweep of the brush.
Months ago, heâd asked Jidanbo what it took to become a Shinigami. The giant was just as surprised as Toshiro had expected him to be.
âHave you changed your mind about not going, Toshiro-kun?â Jidanbo had asked.
âNo,â is all he said.
Realising he wasnât going to elaborated, Jidanbo had shrugged and said, âFirst, you must have spiritual potential and the ability to show it. You go to the Shinigami Academy, where you learn to become a Shinigami. The exam to get in is tough, sometimes you have to take it multiple times --â he'd rubbed the back of his neck â -- like I did. My brother was more lucky, he only took the exam once and got in. Once youâve passed, youâre enrolled in the next semester and thatâs about it.â
Toshiro already know even if Momo didnât get a pass on the exam the first time, sheâll go for it again and again and again, until she was enrolled.
Heâd seen her enthusiasm long before this. The day sheâd rushed to him, her cheeks flushed and her hair whipped around her from running to find him, and taken him back to his house to show him what sheâd just accomplished. Sheâd cupped her hands together, and several seconds later, a white glow emanated from between the gaps in her fingers. When sheâd pulled her hands apart, the orb radiating in her palms broke apart into smaller orbs that floated away. Momo chortled in delight, and Toshiro almost did the same. When she was this joyous it was often contagious, especially when he eyes are so wide with wonder and elation.
What had stopped him was a single thought, one that shot through him and made him realise just how far heâd let her into his life.
One day, sheâll be gone.Â
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The next time Momo sees Toshiro is on her way to the First Division. Shinji runs ahead of her on the walkway, listing off the topics they will need to discuss with Kyoraku. Sheâd been listening intently, but got distracted as they passed Twelfth Division.
From this high up, she couldnât recognise most of Shinigami out and about, but the moment she saw one with white hair and a short stature and his cold reiatsu faintly emanated up to her, she knew it was Toshiro. He steps out of Twelfth Divisionâs main barracks, followed by Rangiku. Thereâs something morose about the way they hold themselves and in their slow walk to the divisionâs main gate entrance. They come to a stop just as a building blocks Momo view.
âYou all right back there?â Shinji asks.
âSorry, sir! I just saw Rangiku-san and Captain Hitsugaya.â
âAh.â
ââŚAre they coming to this meeting too?â
âNah, just us, Third, and Eighth.â She can hear his grin when he continues after a beat, âWere you hoping to socialise with them?â
âOf course not!â Momo scoffs.
Itâs left at that. Still, she thinks back on how they had looked. Sheâd be sure to visit them sometime soon, if all goes according to plan with the reconstruction of the Districts.
________________________________
Momo found him sitting on the front porch of his house, peeling chestnuts. He hadnât noticed her at first, but when her footsteps scrapped against the dirt path, he looks up.
âWhatâre you staring at?â Toshiro asks.
âSorry, I just came to visit,â she says as she comes closer. âWhat are these for?â
He senses thereâs more to this than just a visit, but he puts it aside for now. âBaa-chan is making chestnut rice tonight. She was going to ask you to come take some back to your house. She always does it in big batches.â
Momo grins. âThatâs kind of her.â
Toshiro only shrugs with a huff. Momoâs grin falls into a small, unsure smile. Heâs quick to pick up a nut from the tub in front of him, peel the shell off with a small knife, then put it with the others ready for Granny.
âIn that case, do you mind if I help?â Momo says. âI canât let her do that for me and my friends without helping her.â
âYou donât need to.â
âI want to.â
She makes herself comfortable next to him. She takes a spare knife from the tray heâd brought out, then collects several chestnuts from the tub. He opens his mouth, but shut it after she starts peeling. What had he wanted to say? Did he want to tell her to leave? Did he want to ask about the Academy?
Save for the knifes cracking open and peeling the shells, thereâs silence between them. In front of her, the day passes, clouds moving across the sky and the sun shining down on the swaying trees and lively Junrinan a short distance away.
After a moment, Momo pauses as she takes another chestnut. In his periphery, she fiddles with it between her hands, as if trying to wring something out of it. She puts the knife to the chestnut, but is slow to peel the shell away.
She nervous, perhaps gearing herself up to say something. He already knows sheâs going to Academy, remembers her loud declaration to Granny several weeks ago that was equal parts ecstatic and anxious. He didnât want to reflect on his behaviour since she announced it, but he knows heâs become more sullen towards her.
Granny chastised more than once him, saying he should be happier for her and congratulate her; but he canât ignore the tightness in his chest every time he thinks about her leaving. He hates that she had become a annoying and welcomed constant in his live for the last few decades, and even worse, that he had imagined what the future â whether it was the next week or the next year â would be like, and she was there in his imaginings, along with Granny and Jidanbo. Never used to even think about the future, his life had been repetitive until she came along.
After taking off the chestnutâs shell, Momo stops. âCan I ask you something?â
Toshiro continues peeling. âHm?â
âEven if you donât become a Shinigami, can we still be friends?â
Toshiro halts. His brows furrow, but he still doesnât look at her. âWhatâs with that question?â
âI mean, while Iâm at the Academy we wonât be seeing each other too much. And when I become a Shinigami, itâll be even less. Weâre friends, and, umâŚI want to stay friends, even when weâve grown up.â
Her voice wavers towards the end, losing what confidence sheâd built up to speak to him.
Toshiro blinks down at the chestnut in his hands. Somewhere around them, the leaves rustle in the wind, and a bird chirps and another caws back in response. The last parts of the shell fall away.
âYou might be different by then,â he says solemnly, still unable to look at her.
Momo presses her lips into a tight line. âWell, of course. Everyone changes as they grow up. They become more mature and responsible.â
âNot all adults are.â
âMost though.â She drops her chestnut into the peeled pile. âI donât know how often Iâll be allowed to visit, but Iâll write to you as often as I can.â
âDonât bother.â
âHuh?â
âYouâll be doing your Shinigami stuff, you wonât have time.â
âB-But I want to.â
He finally looks at her. At the hurt that flickers through her eyes, he wants to take it back. She obviously hadnât expected this coldness from him. Yes, his usual bratiness can make him say some hurtful things on occasion, but this is different for her. This was a side of him she rarely saw, and itâs a side she is never on the end of.
But whatâs the use? Sheâll go to the Academy and forget about him. Sheâll make new, better friends. Ones she can go into the future with and who can understand the struggles and triumphs sheâll experience as a Shinigami.
âDo whatever you want then.â
His comment doesnât ease the turmoil in her, with her gaze falling off to the side and her shoulders slumping. Sheâs on the verge of a sob, but she bravely keeps it back. âAre you saying you donât think we should be friends anymore?â
Itâs an opening he should take. He has to start letting her go, so it wonât hurt so much when she turns away, and stops being a part of his future.
âIâŚIâm not saying that.â Heâs weak. âIâm just being realistic. Youâll be busy, you wonât have the time to write to us.â
Itâs not the answer she expects. Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she doesnât speak for several heartbeats. She's stuck between being confused and stunned. âI-Iâd make time. Of course Iâd make time!â
Her earnestness and fierce determination fracture what little resolve he had left. âWell then, letâs see you try.â
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Momo glances at Toshiro from across the meeting hall.
Heâd just stepped back into line after reporting on his areas for reconstruction. His division is doing well, ahead of schedule in fact.
Normally the thought would make her happy. Heâs always been a hard worker; never for the sake of wanting to one-up another or show off, but because he wanted to do good for others. It was one of her favourite things about him.
But something about him is different. The war against the Quincy and taking in the total devastation it had caused had affected all of them, changing each of them in both subtle and obvious ways.
Toshiro holds himself differently. Thereâs the usual stoicism on his face, and the straight, pulled back shoulders and slightly raised chin that have been a part of his posture since he became a captain.
Itâs his hands. Theyâre curled in loose fists at his side. Something is on his mind, and whatever it is, itâs causing him to be tense. His gaze shows heâs present, now listening to Mayuri give his report into his latest findings, but thereâs something going on in the back of his mind he canât escape from.
She wishes she could cross the room and take one of his hands.
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âDonât bother coming back, bed-wetter!â
Please come back.
And she must see through him, because her high spirits arenât dampened as she continues to smile and wave at him. Heâll never understand how she can be so cheerful so often.
Eventually, she has to turn away from him and navigate her way through the growing crowds. After she vanishes and as Granny gently chastises him for his rudeness, he canât dismiss the thought that haunts him. The same thought that had made him try to disconnect from her weeks ago.
What if she doesnât?
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Momo watches Toshiro ponder over the map of the North districts. Each was outlined in the colour of the division that has jurisdiction over them, Fifth Divisionâs in turquoise and Tenth Divisionâs in dark green.
âSo weâll tackle this area together,â Shinji says while drawing his finger along the border between the North districts nineteen and twenty. âIt makes sense seeing as our jurisdictions are night next to each other. Also, saves us on costs if you go with shared resources, right?â
Both Toshiro and Rangiku nod.
âHave you brought this up with the Captain Commander yet?â Toshiro asks.
âNot yet. We went to a meeting aboutâŚâ he lifts his gaze to the ceiling of Tenth Divisionâs office, trying to recall.
âItâs was a month ago, sir,â Momo quietly offers.
Shinji snaps his fingers. âYes, thank you, Hinamori! Geez, weâve been to so many meetings lately Iâm getting them confused.â
Toshiro scoffs. Momo tries not to smile in response; itâs the first normal, in-character thing sheâs seen him do since they arrived.
âAnyway, at that meeting, the Captain Commander suggested a few ways we can save on costs for the reconstruction efforts, one of which was shared resources. Sure you got told the same whenever you went to you met with him yourselves." Shinji jerks his thumb towards Momo. âMy lieutenant here suggested we collaborate on the districts that border with other divisions, like yours.â
Momo canât help but lift her chin a little at the credit her captain gave her. Sometimes he had a way of making one feel accomplished, even over the smallest things.
Rangiku grins. âItâs a great idea, and not surprised that it came from you, Hina-chan.â
Momo laughs nervously. âRangiku-sanâŚâ
âStop, youâll make her overheat,â Shinji teases.
âSir, honestly!â Momo retorts.
He only laughs, but he eyes Toshiro. So heâd noticed it too. Normally situations like this riled her childhood friend up, made him shout something along the lines of âWe need to focus right now!â or simply glare at him. Toshiroâs eyes were on the map, jumping to all the districts under his jurisdiction.
It was barely perceptible, but Momo could see with each district he eyes, a little more weight is added to his shoulders.
Shinji quickly returns things to the business at hand. Several minutes later, her captaina nd Toshiro agree to do reconstruction together.
As Shinji and Rangiku start on a plan, Toshiro stands up rorm the couch. âIâll go get a pot of tea.â
âDo you need assistance with that?â Momo asked, ready to rise up.
He shakes his head. âNo, thank you.â
He leaves while Rangiku and Shinji continue to hash out a plan. His walk would not seem out of the ordinary to most, Momo saw the weight in his shoulders from before, and just as sheâd noticed when she first arrived, that he forced himself to stared straight ahead, and not once at her.
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He regrets every bad thing heâs ever said to her. Every angry exclamation. Every promise or important day heâd forgotten. Every time he scared her for a laugh when they were children. Every tease about her.
He barely manages a landing, his whole body numb with horror. Ice keeps breaking around them. He can hear yelling, but itâs muffled around the ringing in his ears. For the first time in his life, heâs too cold.
She finally stirs, and her hazy, fading eyes stare up at him. He shakes and can barely breathe. He might collapse, but sheâs keeping him rigid and frozen in place. She says his nickname, a pierces through him, hitting a part of him that he always associated with first meeting her. The memory of it, the feeling of someone finally looking at him like he wasnât so different, and letting it warm him into a fleeting sense of security.
ââŚWhy?â
Something in him shatters.Â
He shouldâve been kinder. Why hadnât he been? Because heâd been a child who didnât know better when they first met. Because heâd been alone for so long he didnât know how to interact with others. Because heâd been scared. Because heâd let her in too far. Because he didnât know a life without her anymore.
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An evening breeze blows through the streets of the South Second district, swaying the lanterns of restaurants and brushing Momoâs hair over her shoulders. It reminds her she needs to get it cut, but then she had thought of â
âThat was a really good meal.â
Momo looks over to Rangiku , who interlaces her fingers and stretches her arms over her head with a grin.
âIt was,â Momo says with her own smile. âIâm glad you recommended that place. We should take the other Womenâs Association members there sometime.â
âYeah, I thought so too. I wanted to try it out with you first.â She winks as she lowers her arms. âItâs been a while since we had a girls night out, huh?â
Momoâs smile widens. After recovering from the battle in the Fake Karakura Town and being discharged from Fourth Division, Rangiku had arranged for the two of them to have lunches and dinners together. Theyâd be casual mostly, chatting about work for only a short while before moving on to longer discussions about their hobbies, who theyâd caught up with lately, and there were a few times theyâd left wherever they'd eaten from and gone shopping together. Every now and then, particularly in the beginning, their chatter would turn sombre. Theyâd reflect on what had happened, whether it was Aizenâs betrayal or Ginâs death, and it took some effort to return the conversation back to something lighter.
Momo remembers the look that would come over Rangikuâs face during those moments. As her friend stares ahead into the growing crowds, she can see hints of that old expression. Her eyes are hooded, her eyes take on a glassiness, and she ignores things â like the loud cheering of an izakaya they pass by, or the sprinting children that almost bump into them before dodging off to the side. What was most telling though was Rangiku didnât comb her fingers through her hair and complain about the wind ruining her hairstyle.
Like Toshiro, something had been bothering her, but unlike him, she seems to be bouncing back from it quicker. Still, she had moments like this where she grew quiet and solemn. It sends a twinge through Momoâs chest. âCan I ask you something, Rangiku-san?â
Her friend blinks and âHm?â
Momoâs hesitation catches up to her. Sheâd wanted to ask before sheâd come to dinner, but at seeing Rangiku being her usual boisterous and jolly self, the question had faded into the background.
âI was wonderâŚâ
If she asks her now, she can finally know what happened. Of course, it wouldnât be Rangikuâs place to say what happened to ToshiroâŚbut what if it was the same thing that affected her?
ââŚI was wonder if you, uhâŚâ
Momo recalls the two of them leaving Twelfth that day over a month ago, and the chances are whatever it wasâŚ
âDo you have any style recommendations for my hair? I was thinking of growing it out rather than getting it cut again.â
Without realising, Rangiku had brought them to a stop in the middle of the street. Souls pass around them, some with skeptical or awed looks, others completely ignoring them. The wind dies down, leaving Rangiku hair slightly frizzy. Thereâs a gentle smile on her lips, and a knowing look briefly comes across her eyes. Had she known what Momo truly wanted to ask?
But she couldnât bring herself to, not when it occurred to her that asking Rangiku would potentially expose what has been bothering Toshiro too. She didnât want to put her friend in an uncomfortable position, but with a tightening of her heart, it dawns on her that asking Toshiro would only do the same for Rangiku.
Sheâd trapped.
âYeah, I can think of a few,â Rangiku eventually says. "I'll bring some ideas at the next Women's Association."
Momo blinks.
Rangiku had spoken quietly, uncharacteristic given that hair and fashion were topics she often spoke fervently about. Momo manages to take a deep breath in that looks natural enough, and then a small smile. âI thought you would. Thank you.â
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Come back.
Toshiro pleads it in silence to the night sky on another sleepless night.
Heâd known her for so long, had let her become his closest friend. Her being there as they grew older, as they rose up the ranks of the Shinigami and protected the Seireitei, was an inevitability. How naĂŻve he had been. For all of his posturing and talk of responsibilities and knowledge that any of his subordinates could die on missions, she had somehow become the exception.
Somehow, she would live on forever with him.
How can he have clung to such childish ideals?
Come back, he pleads again. I know now. I want things to be different.
_________________________________
Shafts of the sunrise spill into Momoâs room. She sits up before her alarm clock goes off. Rubbing her eyes and lifting the blanket away, she starts her day.
Nerves thrum through her, and no matter what she tells herself or how many times she goes over the plan for today, they donât settle.
Today is their first day working together with Tenth Division.
After bathing and changing into her uniform, she steps up the mirror to brush her hair. After a few minutes, she takes up her hair clip and clips it in place.
She stares at her reflection, and after a beat, worries her bottom lip. She sighs and lowers her head with tightly shut eyes. How is she going to get through today?
_____________________________
Momo bound up the stairs towards him. Her recently cut hair tousles around her, and she beams widely. Sheâs obviously dying to tell him something, even shouts his nickname. Perhaps because theyâre not in vicinity of his subordinates or the other Captains and Lieutenants, or perhaps because her joy is so often infectious, he chooses not to shout the usual correction at her.
In fact, Toshiro can't help but smile. Heâs been doing that more lately.
He decided to be more open, with her first, and eventually with others.
When she stops in front of him and began to gush over a new project she was working on with her division, he has trouble covering up the reaction he has to the relieved, cathartic ache in his heart. Her forgiveness is still raw, even after all these months. Thankfully, sheâs so caught up in her excitement she doesnât see him briefly glance away to regain his composure.
The future was brighter, but the fact there was even a future with her after everything is a blessing all of itâs own.
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From a distance, Toshiro orders his and a few of Fifth Divisionâs officers to do various tasks, and after they disperse, he goes to the next group.
Momo looks back to the map of North District Nineteen and continues outlining the area she and her subordinates will work on. In her periphery, Shinji finishes speaking with Takaya and Katsuro, and makes his way over to Toshiro before he can reach the group.
She tries to ignore the exchange, but her ears unwittingly tune in, catching bits and pieces of their conversation over the shouts of subordinates, sandals crunching in the dirt, and equipment being unloaded from carts. From what sheâd (unintentionally) been able to tell, they discuss their findings so far.
She keeps a wince from reaching her face and she recalls their brief meeting this morning. She only gave Toshiro a glance, keeping her eyes either on Rangiku or somewhere behind the two of them. Toshiro retained a stoic exterior, even made a few pointed comments towards Shinji like he did when her captain annoyed him, but that heaviness in his shoulders and eyes is still there. She wishes she could just wave it away, like the wind pushing the clouds across the sky overhead.
It had been over a month since the war ended. He hasnât said anything to her, and she canât tell of itâs because of the work theyâve had to do or because he doesnât want to. Was he concerned for Rangiku? Was it something he didnât think sheâd understand? Would it hurt her?
She shakes her head. She repeatedly tries to tell herself itâs none of her business, but her concern and burgeoning frustration doesnât waver. Both grow when she can sense, for only several seconds, his gaze on the side of her face.
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He doesnât recall anything of his time as a âzombieâ to the Quincy, nor does he want to.
The last thing he remembered was collapsing, his ice shattering around him. Time slowed, as in that moment he thought about how this could be the end. It certainly felt like it was. He was so weak, so very tired and hurting, but he was still awake when the shadow fell over him.
However, the old clichĂŠ heâd been told about didnât happen. He didnât think on or remember his past. He didnât despair that he was dying.
He'd thought about Rangiku, dying below, with no one to help her.
He'd thought about his subordinates, who would be without a captain again.
As a darkness began to settle around the edges of his blurred vision, he thought about Momo. Heâd sensed her before, sheâd been far away from where he was. She reiatsu had been strong, she was all right.
He didnât need to protect her. Yet he still wanted to see her. For the last few seconds before the darkness took over and muffled footsteps and a sickly sweet voice reach his ears, he thought about the fact he wonât be there in her future.
His next memory is of being put in the recovery tanks along with Rangiku. At the time heâd been exhausted from the procedure Mayuri had made him endure â he vaguely recalls Mayuri half sarcastically marveling, âIâm quite surprised youâre conscious right now.â
He was lifted and secured into the tank by Nemu. Mayuri had watched him, and didnât approach until Nemu stepped aside. Heâd spoken at him, but Toshiro wavered between consciousness and falling into a warmer darkness and only caught sections of his sentences.
âThe tank will complete the de-zombificationâŚConsider yourselfâŚLieutenant isâŚMy procedure tookâŚyears off your lifespan, butâŚweâll take you to the Palace, no doubt you willâŚâ
And the tank lid had lowered as Toshiro bowed his head. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his mind clung to one part of what Mayuri had said.
My procedure tookâŚyears off your lifespanâŚ
He vaguely remembered thinking he must have misheard.
He hadn't focused on it when he awoke again and left the tank, choosing instead to thank Mayuri and rush off into the fray with Rangiku. She surely heard too, but he'd kept quiet about it. Heâd been truly grateful and yet, that piece of information, it lingered quietly in the back of his mind.
Heâd focused on the fight against the Giant Quincy, and had to resort to using Hyourinmaruâs Completed Form. He thought only of battle strategies and ways to keep his enemy distracted from either destroying the Soul Society below or from causing further harm to those still in the area.Â
It's now hours after the Quincy had evaporated away, and he and Byakuya found Momo and Shinji, safe.
She's been clearly startled by his appearance. He didn't know what to expect, had never really thought about her reaction to seeing him like this, but he dislikes her being so confused and unsure. Certain there's no immediate danger in their vicinity and with Byakuya scouting the area, takes her aside to explain the Completed Form.
Shock turns recognition, and then finally to relief. He can't help but feel she same moments later when he's transformed back and she heals his injuries. It's only a few minutes later when Mayuriâs words fully hit him. From then on, he can barely look her in the eye.
_____________________________
The setting sun halos Toshiro's hair, and his shadow casts long over the rubble. He stands alone, arm folded and back facing those a short distance away, clearly lost in thought.
In different circumstances, it wouldâve posed as quite the striking image for Momo; one she would be tempted to capture in either her drawings or as a photo on her denreishiki.
His subordinates walk around her, gathering up the materials and equipment theyâd used. She didnât have to interact with him at all today, and even if she did, sheâs not sure how she would go about it.
Somewhere behind her, Shinji calls out for officers to help with lifting some of the ruins into carts to be cleared off. She turns to go and assist, but its hard to take her eyes off her friend. The turmoil from earlier arises. She canât ask him what's wrong, and he wonât even look at her unless she doesn't notice. Still, she canât leave him as is.
With a deep breath in, and then out, she walks to him.
Her steps crunch from the smaller pieces of rubble and dirt, and alert him to her approach. He half twists around to her, and it causes her to stop more than an arms length away.
âI was wonderingâŚâ She hadnât thought about what to say. But with a light snort, she manages. âSorry, I was wondering if you had any further plans for Higuchi-san or Takagaki-san. We need some help with clearing the wreckage into the carts.â
Toshiro blinks, as if coming out of deep thought. With a small shake of his head, he turns back to the sunset. âNo, I have nothing for them. Their performance was good, if you need to know.â
âOh, thank you. Iâll be sure to tell my Captain. Theyâre both hard workers, so that isnât too surprising to hear.â
âI sent them with Narita to set up the rations for distribution. They should be finished by now.â
Momo swallows against the growing tightness in her throat. She gives a nod, not trusting her words, and only lingers for a few seconds more before turning to go. She wants to kick herself for not coming up with something better, something that would make her stay with him a bit longer and force him to talk with her.
Sheâs taken ten steps when Toshiro calls to her.
âWait, Hinamori.â
She looks over her shoulder, squinting against the setting sun. She canât make out his expression, but his arms now rest at his sides, and his shoulders are higher, straighter. Thereâs a resoluteness there, but somehow also a reluctance.
He approaches her, but stops after a few steps. He speaks lowly, and itâs hard to make out what he says. She has no choice but to come closer.
âIâm sorry, I didnât hear what you said, Captain.â
The corners of his mouth fall and tighten into a scowl â not directed at her, sheâs certain.
âWhen weâre done here, I want to discuss something with you,â he repeats. âI assume you donât have time for today so I ââ
âI do!â Momo would normally balk at her boldness â especially for interrupting someone, let alone a Captain. But it was if sheâd been holding her breath on the brink of passing out, and now she was desperate to get air. âI-Iâll have time after weâre done here. We can talk.â
Toshiro had been surprised, but shifts his expression back to neutral. âIt wonât take long. Letâs load those carts first and get back to Tenth Division.â
He walks past her, and for a moment, it's as if the heaviness within him lingers over her. Whatever this would be, she's both eager and dreading to know.
____________________________
âHow long do Souls live for?â
Toshiro rolls his eyes. Ever since she got here, Momo had been full of questions. Sheâs more curious than the average Soul, wanting to know every little detail about her new world she called home. Just a few minutes ago sheâd asked a range of questions about what rules she needs to follow she didnât end up in trouble â as he answered her, it reminded him of telling Jidanbo the Rules of City for the first time.
Before he answers her current question, he kicks a small hill of snow just in front of them, sending a white spray into the care tree they stood under. âIt depends. Some live for a few decades, others live for thousands of years.â
Over the many layers she wore up to her the bottom half of her face, Momoâs eyes widened in wonder. âReally? Thatâs such a long time.â
âNot to them,â he says. âTime here is different to the World of Living, or so Iâve heard.â
âThousands of yearsâŚyou can do so much in that time!â
She starts listing off various activities and adventures one could do for over a thousand years, all the while her eyes shone, and when a scarf loosened from around her face, it revealed her wide grin.
He doesnât understand her glee. Was this something specific to Souls that came from the World of the Living? Humans lived far shorter lives than Souls; perhaps the idea of being able to live that long appealed to them. Heâd been born in the Junrinan, he knew only this world, and from what Granny had told him, ten years here likely felt like a year in the World of the Living.
He letâs her go on and on with her list, but when she comes to an end, breathless, she says, âDo Souls know how long theyâll live for?â
He lets out a bewildered snort. âOf course not!â
âOhâŚâ That dampens her enthusiasm, as if heâd popped a bubble. Before he can feel any guilt, she turns her attention back to the silhouette of the Seireitei in the distance. âSo, I guess this means the Shinigami in there have been alive for a long time then.â
He shrugs. âSure, I guess.â
Itâs several heart beats later when her grin returns, but thereâs a softness to it. âI hope we get to live for over a thousand years.â
Heâs taken aback. We? Why 'we'? Why not âIâ?
He wants to ask, but fears heâll embarrass himself. So instead, he ponders on it in silence as she continues to admire the Seireiteiâs silhouette. Did she mean it as a friend? That she saw them being in the future together?
Granny had been the only person who saw a future with him, planning their days with what items heâd have to go out and buy and what shrines or places they needed to visit together in the coming month.
Something about another seeing him in their future made bite the inside of his lip against the painful pang in his chest. Somehow, though, it also made him happy.
âWhat if we did?â
He hadnât realised heâd asked the question aloud until Momo swivels her head back to him. âHm?â
He shakes his head. âNothing.â
âYou mean if we live for over a thousand years?â He cringes inwardly as she considers. Her grin widens after a beat. âWeâd have a lot to do, Iâm sure of it!â
____________________________
Momo stares mutely at Toshiro, and then at some point, through him, and then into nothing. He shifts his gaze to the side, staring hard at the corner of the training room.
Just behind them, Fifth and Tenth Division officers shared a meal together in one of Tenth Divisionâs courtyards around a fire, chattering and laughing amongst themselves. Even in her shock, Momo ended up hearing her captain laugh loudly at one of his own jokes, but she canât bring herself to smile or cringe.
She and Toshiro sit by the training room's entrance, mostly in the shadows. A strip of moonlight comes between them through the doorway, falling over his left foot and her folded knees. He sits half against the wall, his left knee bent and his arms resting in his lap. It would appear to some as the most relaxed heâs ever looked, but this is one of the few times sheâs seen him look resigned.
Heâd just recounted to her how a Quincy had taken control over him with her blood, and then how Mayuri had restored him. It had all made sense up until that point, but not what heâd just said. No, it was more like she didnât want the sentence to be true, refused to let it be a part of what he'd already said.
She brings her gaze back to him as a small tremor runs through her hands. âI donât understand,â she struggles to say. âWhat do you mean? How can you live for only three hundred more years?â
She thinks he wonât answer her, too overcome by whatever emotions rush through him. However, he takes a sharp breath in, but continues to stare off to the side. âKurotsuchi says thatâs at most, but itâs at least one hundred and fifty years. The procedure he used on me was crude by his standards, something he cobbled together while we were battling the Quincy. As a result of that and what the Quincy did to me, my lifespan has been reduced.â
âYouâve acting differently lately --â her voice catches, and her vision becomes misty â-- now I understand why.â
A quiet, strangled sound comes from Toshiro. âMatsumoto thought it was best to tell you.â
And itâs all the confirmation she needs that Rangiku is facing the same tragedy. She must have seen Momoâs dilemma that night they ate out, and decided to make things easier by encouraging Toshiro to tell her. She could cry for that alone, but she wonât; sheâll speak with her later.
She bows over, fisted hands bunching her uniform at the knees. âI-I donât know what to say,â she laments. âI canât imagine what youâre going through.â
That strikes something within him. He shifts, his back fully pressing against the wall and moving his foot out of the moonlight. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she can make out the furrow in his brow twitching and the corner of his mouth dropping into a grimace.
His gaze goes to the ceiling. âI didnât want to say anything,â he admits. âThereâs nothing I can do.â
The catch in his voice is enough to make her move over to him, coming to sit next to him, their shoulders grazing and her knee bumping up against his. She rarely sits so close to him, feeling they should maintain a small distance between them, but this felt right. And judging from his lack of comment or shrugging away, he thinks the same.
âIâm sorry for what I said at the Palace.â
He blinks and finally looks at her. âWhat?â
She canât help but be a little relieved heâd forgotten her comment, but winced at having to bring it up now. âI said Hyourinmaruâs Completed Form was a glimpse into the future. How careless of me.â
He shakes his head, but still doesnât seem to remember. âItâs fine, you werenât to know.â
âEven so, I should have been more considerate. That form is part of your zanpakuto, not something to be joked about.â
âYou were shocked by it, and weâd come out of a battle and Yhwach was defeated, itâs understandable.â
She considers, and then admits, âAnd we were really tired, I guess.â
That gets a huff of a humoured snort out of him, but it doesnât reach his eyes or shape his into a faint smile.
The urge to hold his hand comes over her again. Unlike that meeting from a few weeks ago, she doesnât resist it this time. She takes the one closest to her. Itâs the one that been regrown with hojiku-zai, the original lost on the battlefield at the Fake Karkura Town. She doesnât hold his conventionally, choosing instead to lay her hand on the underside, and her fingers loosely come between his.
She watches him tilts his head down, staring at their hands. Something soft flits over his face, something akin to being pleasantly surprised.
For not the first time, she thinks on how she never imagined all those decades ago he would lose and replace a hand. Just as sheâd never imagined what they went through because of Aizen, or the battles they fought against Hollows and Quincy, or the people theyâve lost under their watch. Theyâd been through so much, perhaps too much for Souls their ages.
Despite the time and effort it will take to rebuild the Soul Society, she had been thinking that peace was finally going to be restored. She was going to be happy again, with her friends and subordinates. She was going to ask Toshiro out to lunches more often, and finally sit with whatever her feelings for him were. The ones sheâs canât put a name too, but feels sheâs just on cusp of doing.
Had he thought about these sort of things too? About what he had been through and the future he may not have anymore? If that was the case, itâs no wonder he didnât want to bring it up. Itâs enough for one of her tears to roll out the side of her eye.
Sheâs quick to wipe it with her free hand, but it doesnât go unnoticed by Toshiro.
âIâm sorry,â he rasps.
She shakes her head. âWhy are you apologising? You didnât ask for any of this.â
âNo, itâs not that. I didn't want to...â
He hesitates, and when he doesnât continue, Momo finishes it for him. "Hurt me?"
He blinks, surprised she had guessed the rest. It still astounds her that he can't see the good within himself, but always in others.
"You don't need to apologise. When I saw something was bothering you, I wanted to know."
She senses there's more, a second apology he wants to make. When he doesn't, she stares straight ahead.
âWe Shinigami are taught and prepared to die in battle for Humans and our friends,â she continues. âIf weâre lucky, we can reach an old age with our accomplishments. Thinking about how long we'll live for is not something we're supposed to contemplate, our focus is on our duties and responsibilities. Even so, weâre not meant to die like this. Youâre not meant to --â
He snorts again, and the faintest, saddest smile shapes his lips. âYouâre not Reio, Hinamori,â he says, and she can imagine in another setting it would be a tease. âAnd even if you were, you doubt you would have the power to change this. I have accepted it's a likely possibility, and I will plan ahead accordingly. I never thought about how long I would live for --" his shoulders deflate with a shaky breath "-- and I shouldn't."
"Nothing is set in stone," she says, fiercely.
Sheâs always considered herself an optimist, perhaps to a fault. She remembers being more hopeful for the future when she was younger. Maybe thatâs what came with growing up, you lose a little bit of hope every year, and cling to what still remains â foolishly, she suspects some think, but not her.
With a thick swallow, she lists her head up to the ceiling. âYou said before that Captain Kurotsuchi was working on a way to restore your lifespan, right?â
âYes.â
She mirrors the faint smile he'd had moments ago, but in her misty eyes thereâs something less fragile. She tightens her grip on his hand. âThen letâs hope he does.â
It doesnât dissolve his grief and cynicism -- she knows he hates leaving something he feels responsible for in the hands of others, and she canât imagine what it must feel like to put your life in the hands of Twelfth Divisionâs captain. She has not words she can offer to console him or give him a new perspective of this. She has her own emotions to deal with too, ones of helplessness and a flickering hope, small but bright.
Her heart throbs when he flips his hand around and interlaces his fingers between hers in a tight grip. It's all they can do for now as a cloud passes over the moon and the laughter continues outside.
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