Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
The snow falls silently.
It settles on the rooftop of the Jubantai quarters, on the branches of the lone bare tree in the yard, on the railing of the corridor that connects the quarters to the rest of Seireitei. Alone in the office, the Jubantai taichou stares out the window at the dull grey sky and the snow that drifts down and cloaks the world in a blanket of icy cold.
Hitsugaya Toushirou stands up, strides over to the window and slides it open. The icy wind tears into the room, stirring up the papers on his desk and throwing his white hair out of his teal eyes. He closes his eyes and relishes the cold, his breaths coming out in little misted puffs.
Outside, it still snows.