Disclaimer: "Bleach", its characters, major concepts and related ideas are the property of Tite Kubo (and probably a lot of other people who aren't me). This unauthorised work of fanfiction is intended for personal entertainment purposes and not for profit; please, don't sue. If you happen to have any rights to the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it.

A/N: After hitting a metaphoric creative wall I've decided to try and get my rusty writing skills working again with some fanfiction writing (as you do). This set of Hanatarou-centric drabbles and one-shots are predominantly written for my best friend who is a big Hana fan. I hope you enjoy them as well and, as always, reviews, input and constructive criticism are much appreciated! Also, this fic is rated T as I'm leaving myself a bit of room to move content-wise in case I need it.

Warmth

A harsh wind ripped across the courtyard, hitting the young healer ruthlessly as he hurried towards the large building which functioned as the main infirmary. It was a hard winter this year; the Seireitei was covered in thick snow, and ice had slicked itself liberally across the walkways. A combination of the abnormally early onset of cold weather and the dangerous icy conditions meant that the Fourth Division had been inundated with sick and injured Shinigami. Luckily, the problems – colds, broken bones, and the like – were easily treated; however, the sheer number requiring care meant that the Fourth had doubled all shifts, including the evening and night care rosters, in order to handle the increased workload.

The young healer shivered as he stepped into the familiar hallway before the warmth within the building slid through his uniform to slowly begin to warm his bones. He smiled and bowed respectfully to Lieutenant Kotetsu, who was standing in front of the infirmary door supervising the shift hand-over. She smiled when she saw him and said,

"Thank you for helping with this shift, Hanatarou."

The young healer smiled and replied, his voice shaking slightly as he shivered, the last of the cold having not quite left him,

"Ah, it's no problem."

The silver-haired Lieutenant sighed and looked away for a moment, saying,

"It's always hard to find people to fill Friday night shifts at short notice."

Hanatarou smiled awkwardly before weakly attempting to put a humorous spin on the situation,

"Well, luckily I didn't have anything planned…"

Isane looked back to him, smiled sympathetically and patted the short healer kindly on the head. He flinched as she spoke,

"You should spend more time with your friends, Hanatarou."

Embarrassed, Hanatarou looked down and was about to comment that he was sure they wouldn't mind missing his company when Isane turned her back on him and opened the door into the infirmary.

The care required for colds and broken bones did not require extensive privacy or individual attention and, as such, the large room that Hanatarou followed Lieutenant Kotetsu into was quite unlike the individual, private rooms given to the grievously wounded, the nobility and other higher echelon Shinigami such as Captains. The main infirmary was well lit and warm, with beds lined neatly for those who required them, and seating for those who were merely waiting to have minor ailments treated. There were neatly organised supply stations strategically placed around the room and Fourth Division members bustled efficiently around the whole area, running errands, healing and uplifting the spirits of their fellow Shinigami who arrived here weary, in pain and, more often than not, emotional. Hanatarou smiled as he looked around; no matter how many times he walked in here he always felt a certain sense of pride at the work the Fourth Division did.

All Fourth Division members automatically reacted to the sense of brisk efficiency that permeated the very air in the infirmary, a deep seated association with the room and the need to do your job, do it well and, do it quickly. It was here that most new Division members spent the majority of their time on healing duties and, from the beginning, respect for the room and their duties here was instilled in the new recruits. As such, when Isane stopped near a supply station and looked over her shoulder at Hanatarou her voice was all business,

"There's soup on the stand in the far corner, so help yourself when you get a chance. We don't have as many in tonight since we managed to send a lot of the Eleventh Division members home earlier this morning—"

The young healer shuddered, glad he had managed to somehow dodge that unfortunate shift. Egged on by their fearlessly optimistic, pink-haired Lieutenant several Eleventh Squad members had fought one another on a wooden bridge near their barracks. The result of their over-enthusiasm and the ice coating the bridge had been predictable, and they had all ended up here. Large groups of Shinigami from one squad or another were common and would have, ordinarily, been acceptable to deal with. However, members of Kenpachi's Division rarely enjoyed coming to the Fourth Division for anything, so the idea of having a small group of them all at once, intermittently raging about whose fault it was that they were there and demanding to know why they couldn't return to their barracks when they were clearly fine, was more than Hanatarou thought he could handle.

While he had been lost in his own thoughts Isane had knelt down to rummage through one of the cupboards attached to the supply station, eliciting clunks, thuds and tinkling noises, the damage from which the young Seventh Seat tried not to think about. He'd straighten it up later. The silver-haired Shinigami finally emerged with what appeared to be a large lump of thick fabric in her hands. She smiled and thrust the pile towards him, saying,

"Here you go. Your friends from the human world heard about the hard winter we've been having and sent this back with Kuchiki-san for you."

Hanatarou's eyes widened as he reached out to take the bundle and, as his hands grasped the unexpected gift, the thick, somewhat fuzzy, dark fabric it unfolded itself (if, indeed, how it had been stored could be referred to as "folded") to form the shape of a garment. Isane yawned and straightened, before looking around the room and commenting,

"Actually, it's pretty well under control for the moment, so go put that on and get yourself some soup before you start."

His face brightening with a genuine smile Hanatarou bowed before hurrying off towards the soup.

Settled in an out of the way corner, Hanatarou wrapped his hands around the warm mug of soup and sighed contentedly. He was warm, safe and ready to take on a hard day's work doing what he was good at, somewhere where he was appreciated and being useful. Somewhere where he really felt he belonged. As he sipped the soup cautiously he snuggled into the warmth provided by the thick fabric covering his arms, torso and curling up to tickle his neck. What had Lieutenant Kotetsu called it when he had asked her? Ah, that's right – a coat.

A/N: Again, I hope you enjoyed and reviews are much appreciated! Also, if you happen to have any ideas or input with regards to the spelling/naming conventions (-taichou vs. Captain etc.) that would be much appreciated. This is a new fandom for me and I found it hard to get the balance right.