Short, simple, bitersweet hitsuhina
"It's just like old times isn't it?"
Rings out Hinamori's clear and melodical voice, something that, although he'd never directly say it to her, is one sound that he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of.
And it's true that he hasn't been like this in a long time; sitting on the rooftop, eating watermelon, watching the sunset go down, talking with his one-time best friend…
No, that was unfair to say. Sure, they had some difficult times together, and his mind briefly flashes back to Aizen and a cold sword streaked with tears…but only for a moment. He doesn't like dwelling on those memories. But, Hinamori had always been the person closest to his ice-locked heart, ever since she had tumbled into it so many years ago… and no matter what happened, that was where she would stay.
I guess some things never change... he thinks, but in the back of his mind, a little voice screams at him that things have changed, things always do. Just look at him. He's definitely improved from the bratty kid he was in Rukongai, but still not good enough. He's never enough. She says it's just like old times, but the old Hinamori never had such chalky skin, never had to stop her sentences with coughs, never had such a gaunt and tired look on her face, never had to have her food spooned to her as if she was a helpless infant.
When the old Hinamori wet her bed, it was because she had a nightmare, but never because she couldn't move one foot of that hospital stretcher to go to the bathroom, so her clean white sheets would always be changed four times a day by the 4th division.
Where they would roll her over to inspect the numerous festering red-purple sores she'd have on her legs from lying on a bed all day or replace the almost empty IV with a bag a fresh new fluids. The old Hinamori never had those.
The old Hinamori was full of life. This Hinamori was losing it.
And as before, his fury broke like the ocean tide: strong, furious, desperate, futile. She was dying, dying before his eyes- and damnit, he couldn't do anything about it. He was the genius, the prodigy, the youngest captain of the Gotei 13, and he couldn't save the one person he loved above all others. He couldn't do anything, he never could…
"Maybe it was a little callous of me to say that," said Hinamori, and he stopped to listen to every little chime that came out of her mouth. How many times would he be able to listen to it again? "but, just sitting here with you reminds of the sunsets we had back in Rukongai. Look at that shade of red, how it clashes with that bright pink swirl; it looks like an artist tried painting in the sky!"
Her eyes shone, and in them, he could see the Old Hinamori smiling back at him, and he was smiling back, and they were sitting on the rooftops, eating watermelon, and watching the sun go down, like they had so many times before…
"You're right." Hitsugaya paused, then smiled. "It is just like old times."
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fin