A hell butterfly flicked by Kira's head, passing through the stirring shade of the trees behind the Third Division.
Life went on in Soul Society, as always. If it wasn't for the absence of the Soukyouku on that hill, you might think the ryouka affair had never happened.
Kind of.
Shuuhei had taken over captaincy of his division, and that was good. Kira had always expected his senpai to become a captain one day. Not captain of Ninth Division, of course . . . everyone had thought that Captain Ukitake would retire soon, but what with what had happened, it seemed important to have around the captains who had been there for thousands of years.
But as for him . . .
Kira had never imagined that Hinamori would die. He wasn't strong enough to protect her himself, but everyone had known Captain Hitsugaya wouldn't let any harm come to her.
And maybe if he admitted it, very deep in his heart, a tiny part of him had been jealous of Captain Hitsugaya. Such a powerful and confident person, who was so close to Hinamori . . . now that speck of jealousy had turned into just another guilt to carry. Hitsugaya had been one of the best captains. Not the absolute cleverest, or the very strongest, but he'd fought for what he stood for, right up until his last breath. And all his friends in the Tenth Division said that Captain Hitsugaya had always treated them fairly, made time to listen to their problems . . . got his paperwork done on time.
He'd been trusting Captain Hitsugaya to keep Hinamori safe.
Kira knew it was selfish of him to think only about how the war had affected him, when it had hurt everyone else so badly too, but sometimes he couldn't help it. Hinamori had been his first love; he'd loved her when he was young and stupid and unsullied and happy. She meant everything good to him; she was the one who'd run back to save Shuuhei when he'd been too afraid, too worried about obeying orders. In stories, she would have been the girl he'd married. And after he'd waited too long to say anything to her, he'd been prepared for her to marry Captain Hitsugaya instead, and he would have been happy for her . . . but she was never supposed to be the one who died.
But she was never supposed to have suffered everything she suffered, either. He'd never forget raising his sword to her, no matter how many times Captain Unohana or Renji or anyone else told him it wasn't his fault.
He'd done it all for his captain, and maybe the biggest thing in the end, the thing he couldn't let go of, was his own failure in judgment. People had looked with pity at Hinamori, wondering how she could be so deluded, but he was just the same. He'd overlooked things he shouldn't have overlooked, trusted things he should have known were lies. How could he ever trust his own judgment again, if he could be misled so badly?
Kira kept coming back to the persimmon trees. It still seemed so out of character for Captain Ichimaru's thin hands to have put seeds in the ground and nurtured them into maturity, but here they were, bearing fruit. Year after year, they stood here as the last word of a mystery Kira never had and now never would understand.