Where did this come from? I have no idea. I was only trying to write my creative piece for school and BAM! This happened instead. It's been a long time since I've written anything for FF, and I realise that my writing has changed drastically. Anyway, this is actually written as the first theme for the one hundred hitsuhina themes on LJ, created by 'clocklike'. I MIGHT be continuing this, though updates will be very infrequent and short as I'm loaded with work from school this year. Well, by all means, enjoy this fluff-ridden piece where the characters are rather OOC :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters. Yeah.
Theme #1: The First Snow Seen
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Hinamori isn't sure what it was which made her stumble down the wet hillside to the sakura tree where he was asleep against. Kneeling down in front of the sleeping figure, she eyes the thin cotton yutaka he wore - unsuitable for the frigid temperatures during winter in Rukongai - and wonders how he could stay asleep in this cold weather (she remembers knitting a sweater for him later - though it was clumsily done with wide, gaping holes, he wore it nonetheless).
The last rays of the afternoon sun were slowly escaping from the thick, rain-ridden clouds and falls gently on his hair, adding a glow to the brilliant white shade.
Just like snow, she thinks.
(later, she will look back and tell him that he was the first snow she saw that year, and he will raise his eyebrow incredulously before calling her an idiot).
"Shiro-chan", she tries, rolling the new nickname off her tongue. Teal green eyes flash open suddenly and he fixes her with a dangerous glare which she easily dismisses with a grin.
"Where did that come from?", he scowls.
"I thought of it just then"
"Well, don't use it. Ever"
"Why not? It suits you"
"It's stupid"
"It's staying", she retorts, poking her tongue at him.
He mutters something unintelligent under his breath, which she chooses to ignore.
A cool chill had now settled with the dusk, and she notices the slight tremor which spread throughout his body. Knowing he would deny any signs of weakness, being the stubborn brat he was, she stands, hauling him up with her. As she pulls him along the path back home, she is surprised at the size and warmth of his hand - the way it fit comfortably over hers, instead of the other way around - and she vaguely wonders if she would still have the power, in the future, to protect him.
(oblivious as she was, she failed to notice the way he stared at the small of her back from behind, before walking quickly to fall into step beside her, his grip on her hand tightening just ever so slightly).