HitsuHinaWeek2018 Day 6 Theme: Rose/Scarf
A/N: Hard to believe it's almost over! Set after Toshiro and Momo would be well into adulthood (and also on Toshiro's birthday haha)
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.
Momo sighed as she went over the selection the store owner showed her. "Do you have any others?" she asked as politely as she could. She hoped she hid the slight panic she truly felt.
"Ah, sorry, this is all we have for scarves," the woman told her. "This time of year they sell out pretty quick. Maybe I could interest you in a jacket instead, or a shawl?"
"Oh, no thank you." She bowed nicely. "Have a nice day," she told her before leaving the building into the cold winter air, walking down the streets of the Seireitei. She sighed again. She knew she should have gotten his gift sooner, but work had piled up unexpectedly and she hadn't had a chance to take time off to go shopping until now. She had hoped there were still scarves she deemed acceptable for him left by the time she had time, but with this being the fifth or sixth store that let her down she was starting to lose hope.
"At least this didn't happen with Rangiku," she muttered to herself. There'd been time aplenty to find something for her birthday.
"What did not happen?" a voice suddenly asked her. Momo jumped at the voice of the man whom she nearly walked past.
"A-Ah! Captain Kuchiki!"
Over the many years that had passed the man aged quite gracefully, as many expected. His black hair was starting to sport a lighter tone, and a wrinkle or two under the eye, but otherwise he looked much the same. He even still held his stoic nature about him. It certainly didn't make him any easier to talk to, in Momo's opinion.
She bowed deeply to him. "I-I was just looking for a scarf… to give to Shi-Captain Hitsugaya."
A long pause followed her answer. Momo dared to rise from her bowed position, looking the man in the eye. For a moment she thought they looked softer, but it passed as soon as she saw it.
The pause continued for longer, until finally the nobleman spoke. "I have heard he liked them." Then, to Momo's shock, he unfurled his signature scarf and handed it to her. "I hope this would make a proper gift for him." He said, as emotionless as ever.
Momo couldn't hide her utter surprise, forgetting formalities and letting her mouth hang agape. "C-Captain Kuchiki… Are you sure?" She's heard rumors of his scarf's worth, and how highly he regarded it. Just from looking at it, she could tell it was made from materials far finer than even her best clothes.
"I would not be giving this to you if I were kidding, Lieutenant Hinamori." was his answer. "I see little point in the exchange of gifts during this time of year, but I suppose I can make an exception this time."
Momo felt herself begin to tear up, but she wouldn't let herself cry in front of a captain. She bowed again. "Thank you very much, sir! I promise to repay you for this!"
Byakuya gave no response, simply waited for her to take his offering. She did so with trepidation, careful not to drop the beautiful piece of cloth on the floor. Upon touching it she felt the silk hover over her fingers, soft and light. The scarf itself was a beautiful ivory, as white as the snow on the ground.
Momo raised her head to find the captain walking away. She kept her gaze on him for a moment, grateful for his unexpected kindness, before turning away to her own destination. She walked through the streets, out of the shopping district, away from the squads, away from most buildings and people as she found solitude in the cemetery.
She felt the tickle of tears in her eyes and this time let them spill. Toshiro may have died some twenty odd years ago, but that never made visiting his grave any easier. She checked on Rangiku's, making sure her flowers were still alive and well.
The Quincy girl took them both from her. She knows she is still alive, somewhere. She won't be once Momo finds out where she's hiding.
Once she did that she moved on to Toshiro, her beloved husband. She went to her knees, folding Byakuya's scarf in her lap. She took up the cerulean scarf that on a cloth in front of his marker and replaced it with the newly acquired one.
"You wouldn't believe it, Shiro!" Momo said, voice steady as she felt the tears flow down her cheeks. "Captain Kuchiki gave his scarf to me! Guess you'll have to thank him this time." She gave a slight chuckle. "Though he's sure made it hard for me- how in the world am I going to top this next year?! Maybe I can ask Lady Senjumaru to sew me one herself."
She chuckled again at her own joke, and then became quiet, letting the snow slowly pile up on her shoulders. The tears flowed faster and she choked back a sob. She missed him. She missed him so much.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Oh, sorry Shiro! I know you don't like to see me cry… I know! You'll never guess what Shuhei taught Ichika recently! He nearly got his head chopped off by Rukia!…"
She spent the rest of the day retelling stories of her friends, her captain's crazy antics, interesting recruits with particularly strange abilities. It helped stop the throbbing in her chest, the fuzzy feeling that filled her head whenever she thinks of their last moments.
She'd never seen him complain about the cold before then. She's never been so scared. She's never been so filled with anger. The Quincy girl will die. Momo will kill her.
She eventually looked up and saw the night sky.
"Well, I've gotta get going Shiro," Momo says, getting up from her knees slowly while shaking off the small snow piles on her. "And don't you worry, next year's scarf is going to be even better, I promise!"
She finally stood up fully, legs no longer aching from her long-held position on them. She looked down on the name on the marker and traced the carvings with her finger. She smiled softly. "I love you."