AN: Ara ara~ I'm back. I've actually had this sitting around. I hope I didn't torture you with the wait. Well this story... IT'S ANGST. How could I get away with all this fluffy stuff without writing BAW moments? Well, you can have it. I've got an idea in my head wondering if I should do a follow up story to this one. I mean these stories COULD be connected, but they could totally stand on their own as well. I wonder what I shall have myself do....

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Her cell phone was dying. There was no way it would be able to hold out to text him along enough. With some internet research, she downloaded a messaging program and asked him to do the same. Hitsugaya thought it was a strange request, but he went along with it anyway.

The two had a lively conversation. Yes, this messaging program was proving to be a lot faster and more awesome than texting. She never imagined they could say so much more. Text messages have limits on how much you can write. But with this program, you could write an entire paper for a class like Unohana's (who always had a minimum of six pages for whatever the subject was) and still keep going.

Rukia:
I realized, during texting, typing out your name, is entirely too long. =]

Toushiro:
Haha. So I see. But I dislike nicknames.

Rukia:
You are also called Shiro-chan. It does happen to be a lot shorter and easier to type out.

Since the two were pretty fast texters, and now apparently typists, she didn't expect a gap in between their messages. She was going to write something else, but something held her back. Did she say something wrong? In all honesty, she was joking. Although, she forgot to indicate that she was.

To him, it was like hidden a chord he had planned to keep hidden. The person most important to him struck it and it hurt more than he imagined. Matsumoto would tease him about it, but he wouldn't be especially bothered by it. Her drinking buddies would do the same thing in their trance of drunkenness, but that didn't even get to him. But when Rukia said it...

Rukia:
Does it remind you of Hinamori-san? She was your love, or something like that, correct?

"Rukia..."

Her muttered out her name. It was obvious she wouldn't hear it. But reading, continuing this conversation was now becoming painful. He rested his arms on the desk and his head on top of them. Rukia was the last person he wanted to talk about Hinamori with. He would never want to bring her up for the fact that Rukia might feel different towards him; knowing Hinamori was once close to him. Or maybe there was more sort of fear that he conjured up. He didn't want Rukia to compare herself to Hinamori. Not that Rukia probably would, but she knew at times, the girl would feel she was not good enough for the white haired boy. Hitsugaya never wanted to give her any doubts as to make her think so. She was definitely more important and closer to him that Momo ever was. And he was hoping to keep it that way.

Seeing that he hasn't said anything for quite some time, he lifted his head. Rukia hasn't replied back either. Realizing that silence was something he shouldn't have allowed to happened, he tried to think of a reply. Silence makes the mind wander and he had already seen that type of effect on her.

But in the mean time, she also was resting her head against her arms. Why did she even say that? She knew how much the other girl meant to him. Maybe Rukia didn't understand the weight of his memories. That the girl he cared for always had eyes for someone else. Eyes for someone older. Eyes for a person who couldn't be trusted. And it proved to be true. Aizen, in the end, didn't care about Hinamori, brought her near death, and Hitsugaya was the one to find her. The older male has used her and then left her, along with crippling the club they were all apart of.

That alone should have set off a signal. Hitsugaya never talked about Hinamori after that. He couldn't continue putting himself in pain for her after she continually hurt him, time and time again. He made that decision. Rukia was concerned for him then and offer her hand. No one thought they would turn into something like this. The feelings of like and maybe possibly love was there, but the two were so silent about it. Their outward appearance to people had them question if the two were dating.

No, they weren't.

It was obvious that Rukia broke through his defenses and found a place in his heart, but he didn't know if he could bring himself to fully love someone else again. She on the other hand, didn't think she was good enough for Toushiro. Maybe that was why situations like this hurt more than it probably should have.

She snapped out of her negative thoughts when she heard the chime go off. She was afraid to even look up, afraid to look at the words. Would he cut it off here? Would he say he would never want to see her again?

Toushiro:
It's something I don't try to think about too much.

So saying it at all was a bad idea after all. To make him feel uncomfortable, Rukia's heart was already breaking. She tried to keep her concentration of the message, but she could feel the water welling up in her eyes. Her intention was never to make him feel that way, and she had done so. Why didn't she think before sending that message to him? To think about how much it would effect him?

Rukia:
I see. I won't mention it again. Forgive me.

Toushiro:
It's all right. I might be handling it the wrong way anyways.

To him, he felt that way. He shouldn't have left her a big blank invisible message called silence. And he knew Rukia better than that. Why didn't he say something during that time? Why did he let her mind drift off to think of the worst possible situation: him not ever wanting to see her again. He knew she was thinking that. Somehow he could feel it in her words. The stupid pieces of text that were silent in their emotions, but emotions would be placed on them. She could have been smiling when she said that. But damn it! Hitsugaya knew that she wasn't!

Rukia:
I believe you're not. It's understandable to say the least.

Her words were overly formal. On that alone, he knew something was off. Nothing could amount to how much he wanted to run up three long flights of stairs of the dormitory to bust through her door and see her. To tell her that it was all right and for her to know that he had no ill-will towards her.

But what if it was her that didn't want to see him? There was no way he was going to force himself upon her. He never moved from his seat. Maybe for her, talking like this was better.

There was a long time before she sent her next message. Now it was her turn to fill the message with silence. Rukia had a hand in her hair. She was doing everything she could to hold back her emotions. Something told her that she didn't want to continue this conversation, afraid to say something to hurt him again.

Rukia:
Again, I am sorry for bringing it up. I shall retire for the night.

He thought in that instant that she was sign off. Hurry! He would have to hurry and say something before she would close the program.

Toushiro:
It's nothing. Really.
Goodnight then.

Well shit, that wasn't reassuring that all. Hitsugaya slapping himself in the face for that one. Maybe it was better not to say anything at all.

Rukia:
But-- all right.
Goodnight.

She closed out the program and found her way under the covers of her bed. There would be no way she would be able to sleep this off. She just drowned herself in her emotions until she fell asleep. That's when her emotions were set free, and a tear ran down her face.

Maybe this messaging program was a bad idea.

And he was at her door, a hand raised to knock on it. But then he sighed and put his hand down. There was a good chance that she didn't want to see him right now and wanted to be alone. But even then, he knew Rukia wasn't really good with these type of emotions. There was no light coming from under the door. Hitsugaya turned around and walked away.

The boy knew very well that her door was always unlocked. Maybe her unusual formalities rubbed off on him in his mood. If the door was unlocked, as it always is for him, then why would he have to knock? He shrugged it off. He didn't know when he would talk to her next. But whenever the chance came around, he would talk to her, tell her everything. She had a right to know, and because she didn't know, this happened. It was no way her fault.

It was his.