A Breath of Wind

It had been a year to the date. A long excruciating year of healing and weeping. Of slow boiling hatred stewing in the pit of their stomachs to soften and simmer. A year that piled minutes upon lives that could hardly hold any more. The mountain of unshed tears faltered, scattering to the heart in pieces, for today was the day Aizen Sousuke's life was taken to save all the others.

The day was newly budded, crisp and fresh as a cold apple. A cool wafting wind fluttered by, indicating the approaching autumn sun with lucid nights.

"A year." Hinamori Momo frowned. She saw that the cloth she had been holding was now twisted like a snake's skin in her fingers. Unthreading herself from the object, she finished washing her face and began clothing herself in the usual black dyed outfit she had grown so accustomed to. She tied up her hair, tight. Tighter. Tighter. It had been a year to this day.

"Hinamori, are you ready?" A deep voice from outside her quarters questioned. The girl brought herself to stare at the sliding doors, forcing fire to light her glass-like eyes, trying to animate hollow bones.

"Yes, I am." She said in barely a whisper. Hinamori shook her head and stood. "Yes." She repeated, a little louder. The door opened hesitantly and then all of the way. Hitsugaya Toshiro was on the other side. He was older now, taller. She couldn't help but notice that his stick frame was finally gaining some width. Hinamori glued her eyes to the ground once she saw her friend's expression. It silenced her as if two hands reached out and clasped her throat, tight. Tighter. Tighter.

"What's the meeting about today, do you wonder?" Hinamori tried. She had a sudden pulsing next to her eyes, quiet and pounding. Her silent companion refused to answer. Refused to reply with a simple I don't know. She bit her lip, wanted to taste blood, needing the familiar feeling. He never paid attention to her anymore. No sneaked hugs. No embrace from his rare smiles. Just fierce cold and numbness. Blinding numbness.

Since that day, the one exactly one year ago, her friend no longer acknowledged her. She was a pocket of air to him. As if he reached out to comfort her she would fold in upon herself and decay into the sky. For he had pierced her with a blade of malice, and the fear of risking that once more had kept him from sharing his shattered soul. The lack of communication was their largest handicap.

It was a surprise he had fetched her today.

"We are to decide on nominations for filling in our empty captain seats." Hitsugaya muttered, not wanting to let the silence absorb their thoughts. Hinamori glanced up. Then down.

New captains.

The empty positions sat open like a rotting gap. They were afraid of deception. Disgusted from the idea that the people who had possessed those titles previously had slaughtered, mutilated, desecrated without a flinch of conscious. Though Ichimaru Gin had been kept under house arrest once he was healed, under his particular circumstances, he would never wear the captain garments ever again. So now, who would willingly accept the guilt?

"It's been a year, Shiro-chan." Hinamori commented.

"I know."

The meeting went on. Names were considered and passed along the group. They chattered like birds along a tree branch, weighing the weakness and strengths of people like a strategy for a game. Hinamori barely noticed. She stared at the spot where Aizen had once suggested Toshiro as a captain. The fleeting remembrance of elation caught in her chest. Just as suddenly, it was shaken away. Dashed out by the pain of a sword thrust into her stomach. Convulsions passed along her veins as images danced before her eyes. The taste of blood coated her tongue, and she worked her jaw to take the flavor away. Sweat rose from her skin that was white as terror.

"Hinamori-san?"

The girl turned around, heart flaring and squeezing. Ukitake was there, concern obvious in the skin of his cheeks. He put a hand on her shoulder and the other under her chin as to inspect her. She suddenly felt small. Smaller than usual, for her was at least a head taller than her. His hair glistened over one shoulder, so similar to that of Hitsugaya's shade, but somehow different. The brown in his dark eyes asked for her well being.

"I'm alright." Hinamori gasped. She backed away from him. Her hair was a mess. Why? She redid it as events went back to normal. Tight. Tighter.

"Perhaps Hinamori…" The girl shot her head up, finding that the old man in front had spoken this. "Should stay as merely a lieutenant. She has improved, yet not enough." No one argued. Not even the small girl with nothing left to do but twiddle her thumbs, forever fighting within herself.

Other names were cast. Maybe Kurosaki Ichigo? Yet he had declined any positions the moment he had put away his sword. His purpose now was to protect his town, not die for it to serve another. Maybe one day, far in the future, but nothing soon.

Then names of the vizards clouded the room. Hinamori shook her head. They, from instant they shared their first hollowfication, would never be one of the shinigami again. Not ever. Not ever. So, stuck with no more names or potentials, the captains and lieutenants were released upon Soul Society.

Hinamori wandered out, almost tripping on her feet. Almost losing her sanity. But she knew where that would get her. Sleep was the only escape she could think of. And when she went to bed that night, she untied her hair and let it flow around her like a dark halo. But when she woke a week later, hair stuck to her skin like spider legs, she knew that sleep had turned on her.

Swords, stabbing into her gut. The pain of skin tearing, organs popping, cells splitting, had returned to her as she slept. Eye's encased in glass frames shone from the darkness maliciously, kindly. What happens when you give your love, respect, admiration, soul…to a persona? A being who did not exist. A character from a tragedy. What happens when all of that is gone? You had given it and forgot how to get it back? Pain, searing pain. Blood curdling on the floor below. Blackness clouding around the vision. Falling to the ground, but never knowing true gravity.

Yes, she was awake in a never ending hell. Hinamori ground her teeth. Tears stabbed her eyes fiercely. Her small hands clutched her covers as she glared at the coloring trees. They waved back to her gaily as the sweet breeze kissed their leaves.

I know what I have to do. Hinamori concluded. She got up. She dressed, trying not to touch the tender sores that had long healed. She stalked the angular pathways in a state of determination that clouded her movements. At one point, Hitsugaya, momentarily interrupted by a bedraggled Matsumuto, caught a glimpse of a tiny girl with a face full of blush and ebony hair clouding around her shoulders. But that possibly could not be her. It could not be Hinamori, the broken girl hidden behind a pulled back bun. And so he gave up and tried to finish the unending maze of paperwork.

Hinamori, very much the girl Hitsugaya saw, found herself back at her old training grounds. Still catching her breath with short pulls of air, the wind tickled her like an old friend. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch, yet nothing happened. She drew out her sword, metal scraping against sheath, until her sword sung into the forest. Soft brown eyes narrowed as the mood instantly darkened.

She would become the fifth squad captain and in doing so regain the trust she had lost in herself. To do this, she had to train. Train, and train until she was somehow good enough.

No sooner had she gotten into position, right leg bent and left leg straight behind, did an intruder make her thoughts foggy. She whipped around glaring with all the malice she could dredge from her gut.

"Hey now!" Renji said. Both hands were up as if to defend his weaponless body. Hinamori scowled. He didn't think that she could hurt him, and maybe he was right. But that doesn't mean he had to stay right.

"Hi Renji-kun." She flicked her sword. It hummed with anticipation, eager to tear, fasting to break whatever it could. The red haired man behind her sat on an available tree stump, arms crossed. He tilted his head in a curious cat-like manner, eyes blazing from milky skin.

"Want a sparring partner?" He offered.

"It's fine. I have to do this myself." She could hear the hurt she caused in the way Renji moved, and she sighed in desperation. "Let me get better first."

"Better? You're already tough, Hinamori-chan."

"No," she shook her head despairingly, "I'm not." With what was said said, she turned and let words blossom from her lips vine around her sword and release its form. It flashed furiously a deep shade of pink, somehow more intense than she had ever witnessed it before. The sheer force of the release took the girl by shock, and she was shot backwards. Someone caught her and steadied the girl to her feet. "See?" Hinamori tried to joke with Renji. "If I can't even stay on my feet from that what good am I as a Lieutenant, let alone a captain?" She then saw a flash of red hair to her side. Hinamori blinked, completely dumbfounded.

"A captain, Hinamori-san?" Ukitake pondered from behind her. The girl jumped out of his arms, flustered. She bowed her apologies, yet the man only gestured to her that she need not use such formalities. She smiled up at him. He was really a sweet man. Since that day, more than a year now, his injury coupled with his earlier ailment had kept him bedridden. It wasn't until recently that he was allowed to walk, let alone leave his subordinates. Many thought that he should retire and relax; something that everyone knew he would not do. This job was what he lived for.

"Uh, yes." Hinamori muttered in a tiny voice. She was looking everywhere but the man in front of her. She did not want others to know except people she knew she could trust. Renji she had faith to keep his lips stitched, but Ukitake? She hardly knew the man let alone trust him. But something in his kindly eyes tugged at her until she blurted, "Please don't tell anyone else."

"Hmn…" Ukitake mused. He brought a hand to his chin in a faux thinking pose. Hinamori did not know whether she wanted to glare, laugh, or break down asking, Is this really you? Are you faking this? Are you really this nice and kind? She chose to merely stand and wait for her verdict. "I believe that I just might turn a blind ear to this." Hinamori could not help but suppress a small grin. Renji, from the sidelines, nodded his approval. "But you must let me help you in return."

"What?" Asked the girl, admittedly a little stupidly. Ukitake chuckled and patted her on the head like one would a child. She pulled away, not wanting to be treated as such.

"I hardly ever get out these days without people leaping to pin me down to rest. The only reason why I am here is that I am currently taking my afternoon nap." He smiled, meaning every bit of the gesture. "And helping you looks to be productive. Will you let me?"

"Yes." Hinamori said without thinking. She bit her lip. No blood. Where was that familiarity? Never mind. She had just struck a bargain that she must to make do with. Now it was time to get serious.

Thus began the strange rotation of her peers and Ukitake. Hinamori would meet up with the snow haired man by noon. The girl tested her strength and honed the areas that needed work. Her swordsmanship was indeed less skilled than her magical kidou. On the times Renji was there, that was when she would work as hard as she could. Spiritual sword over that of a snake's vertebrae. Ukitake shouted instructions to her from the sidelines, never scolding, but always treating her with a warm respect that spread from her ears to the pit of her stomach.

If Renji was unable to attend sessions, Kira was always there to replace him. He was the tactics that she lacked. He put her through different puzzles, testing her knowledge on how to escape from his constructed mental labyrinths. Still, Ukitake selected hints that would not degrade her learning, but enhance it. Rukia was rarely there, but when she was, she served as the catalyst to Hinamori's kidou.

At one point, the girl was able to do a spell without speaking one word. She had not meant to. Kira was closing in on her, and the spell suddenly tickled the front lobe of her brain. Before she could open her mouth to release the words, the spell had already burst from her hand, almost smashing against Kira's face. She apologized repeatedly after said incident, but Kira never really minded.

One day revealed a pleasant surprise. It was one year piled after that of the year before. All four of her friends were there, including the always present Ukitake. The presence of the people she grew up with eased her. It was almost as if she were in a dreamlike aura, floating along with her friends. She found herself smiling more, breathing with a little more ease. She was close to her bankai. She could feel it in the way her hands tingled as she unleashed her sword, in the way the air became stagnant as power filled her body. She was close.

"Are you sure, Hinamori-chan?" Rukia questioned when Hinamori suggested that they all three band together and fight her. The girl placed on a mask of determination and nodded. Even Rukia had to hold in a giggle of joy from how cute the girl in front of her was, though the girl herself did not know that. What everyone did not notice was the slight mist of pink that dotted a certain white haired tutor. He cleared his throat and chose to direct his gaze to somewhere more appropriate.

Now the friends melted together, taking their fair blows at and from the very same sweet girl they had picked on. She had changed, somehow. Underneath the innocent face and large eyes, something dark was seething, almost festering between her skin. As she struck out, she did not hold back. If she hit them, she hit them, and that almost scared both her friends, and herself. Hinamori blinked, and it was back. That phantom pain that haunted her dreams and waking hours—all places but here. Why here? Why now? It split through her as the space around her jeered. Glass eyes lifted their eyebrows in amusement as Hinamori buckled down. She smelled blood. All over. Outside, inside. Her muscles spasmed and she fell to the forest floor below, eyes rolling up into her head, foam forming in the corners of her mouth.

"No!" Kira cringed as he plummeted to the earth. Blood tinted the edge of his sword. "I didn't mean to." He gasped.

"It wasn't your fault." Ukitake insisted. "She's remembering." He murmured. The man bent to collect the sad bundle of clothe and bones. "I'll take her to the infirmary."

"But I can help her. I know how." Interjected Kira, still feeling guilty.

"This is something simple healing kidou cannot fix. Relax. She should be fine."

When Hinamori opened her eyes next, she was in bed. The girl groaned, hating that she was back where she began. In the end, he still took her. She no longer held a sacred peace with that training area, not if even he could reach her there. But that was nonsense, right? He was dead. Two years ago, that man was extinguished by Kurosaki Ichigo's sword and rid of this world. So why did he haunt her? Why now. She turned in her prison of silk and comfort only to find Ukitake sitting next to her bedside.

"That is a great sight to see." He commented as she stared at him blankly. "Your friends were here to see you. Hitsugaya-kun as well. They all had duties to perform, so I volunteered to stay. They didn't argue. Now that the blasted fourth squad has me, I don't think they'll let go." He shrugged, which was something Hinamori thought someone of his status would never do.

"I'm sorry they caught you." She chuckled. And then something amazing happened. She smiled. An actual smile not built for show or filled with fake joy. This was meant for the purpose a smile was created. Ukitake was caught off guard, and he shifted to cover his dilated pupils.

"It's fine. I get to spend some time with you, so I can't see how this situation is so bad."

Hinamori swallowed. It was her turn to shift and acquaint herself with the covers. They sat in silence then. It was a comforting silence that held them both in a mother's dreamy arms, bringing them closer. Right now, it didn't matter. Just enjoying each other's company was enough.

Hinamori felt the difference instantly. Practice resumed once she was released, checked, double checked, and tripled checked from the fourth squad a couple days later. If either she or Ukitake caught each other's eyes, both would have to part to bury the emotion plucked up from their beings. The captain, usually encouraging some violent maneuver to help improve Hinamori's agility and strength, now tried to steer her along a better trodden path. She once tried to comment on this behavior, but instead bit her lip and excused herself from practice. Before she had a chance to leave, one summer's evening a month after her incident, Ukitake stopped her.

"Your hair is different." He concluded once he finished comparing how she was yesterday from now. She shuffled from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"It's down today. I lost my hair tie and I didn't have time to get it." She admitted. She mentally bolted her feet down, waiting for the winds of fury to berate her for simply losing her hair tie.

"…Nice."

"W-what?" She completely missed what he just said. Ukitake looked as if the first time he spoke it already drained his courage, but let out one more deep breath to try again.

"You are beautiful like that. Your hair down is nice." And with that he turned and left, careful not to look back as to show her his face, which resembled the shade of a ripe tomato. That was a great tactic, for Hinamori was left to stand there, hoping beyond hope that he would not glance behind and see the tears of excitement and confusion line her eyes.

The next day, Ukitake was unable to join her practice. No one else had shown to the required meeting area as well, leaving Hinamori with an empty place digging a hole in her bosom. She sighed terribly and decided that there was only one thing to do.

And that was when she found her trembling legs guiding her to the thirteenth division captain's headquarters. It wasn't like visiting Shiro-chan's, or Kira's. If she had to match her anxiousness with any feeling she felt before in her life, it would have to be when…when those nights she just needed company she need only to slip over to Aizen's apartment and…it was best if she ceased there. No. She would fight this time. He would not have her in death. Besides, she was here for a reason.

"Excuse me." She pushed open the sliding doors. The first thing she noticed was the absence of Ukitake's subordinates. That was highly unusual, but she shrugged off the implications.

"Hinamori-san?" Ukitake asked when he caught her inspecting his quarters as if something was hidden to jump out and decapitate her. He grinned at her nervousness. "Don't worry. Everything is fine. My subordinates are out fighting over who is to get my medicine or not. This usually takes a half an hour or so." Once his guest relaxed, he continued. "What brings you here?" He concluded that adding, my dear, or, Hinamori-chan, would be a little too much.

"I…um…I brought some dumplings." She said. Her face was almost as flushed as it would be during the summer. She revealed the wooden container used for holding dumplings and advanced closer. "They're peach dumplings."

"Clever." Ukitake commented. The girl blushed more.

"It was the only ingredient that was ripe enough. I didn't do it because of my name."

"Settle down. I was only teasing you." He reached out to pat her head, but remembered that such a stolen touch was not appreciated. Covering up his mistake, he faked a small cough in order to cover his mouth. Hinamori knelt to see if he needed any assistance. But then their eyes locked and she was lost. All jovial mannerisms were dissipated upon the two.

"Hinamori-san, I…" Ukitake started. His chest hurt from the resounding thump of his heart. It was now or never, right? He wet his dry lips with his tongue, drawing a breath to take the bottomless plunge.

"Please. Please. Enjoy the dumplings, captain." Said the girl with her ebony hair let down and free. She excused herself and retreated. Her stomach was threatening to explode from the terrible pain of remembrance, warning her of what could happen if she continued with her tribulations. This couldn't…it just can't happen. Even if her stomach made pitiful flops as her heart would turn into a fluttering butterfly when she saw, heard, or knew Ukitake was nearby, this was simply impermissible.

Meanwhile, Ukitake was left to stare at the steaming dumplings. They had a delicious aroma, and were obviously homemade. He plucked one from the basket and stared at it. In some ways, it reminded him of it maker.

"Having girl problems, Jushiro?"

"Nothing of the least." Ukitake replied to his friend, Kyoraku Shunsui. The latter tipped his hat and sat the opposite of where Ukitake stared at his dumpling. Kyoraku reached for a dumpling, but reformed not to. The glare on his friend's face told him that said dumplings were off limits.

"She is a little young, don't you think?"

"Almost as young as your Nanao-chan, if I recall." Ukitake took a bite of the dumpling. It was warm as a hot slice of apple pie.

"But you do love her, right?" Kyoraku scratched his beard, nonchalantly bouncing off Ukitake's remark from years of practice. The white haired man almost choked at the comment. Once he had safely swallowed, his face built up with a red flare.

"I want to be, but I honestly don't deserve her. She's being brave, overcoming what's happened to her in such a valiant way. And here I come, ruining it all. I never meant to. I just…enjoy her company."

"Mhmn, yes. I didn't come here for your life history."

"I'm spilling my guts out, here."

"I never asked you to."

"Prude."

And so the days passed like observing shadows. Though Hinamori felt that pull like the ebbing of the sea towards Ukitake, she remained cold as marble under a night sky. She took his advice, but kept her eyes away in order to not get caught in his. The girl avoided contact to prevent any possible breaking and erosion of will, though she saw how hard Ukitake fought to keep away as much as she did. Just witnessing such will from him to keep away made her question her motives at times. Was he doing that in consideration for her, or was he no longer interested?

That doesn't matter. She scoffed as she tied her bun tight. Tighter. Tighter. Hinamori would bite her lip as she often did, expecting nonexistent blood, and put all of her doubts into her muscles. That fueled her to train, fight, place her mind into a temporary bliss free of glaring glass eyes and the sweet squeeze in her heart as she gazed upon…that was of no importance.

"What happened between you two?" Renji asked after they had sparred. Rukia was there as well. Her job today was to supply food, and she did exceptionally well. Hinamori, Renji, and Rukia lazily sipped slightly sweet white tea and nibbled on strawberry mochi as well as chocolate cakes from the real world.

"Nothing happened." Hinamori lied.

"Something had to. Neither of you smile anymore, and it's like you're permanently on blush mode." Rukia commented.

"That doesn't mean a thing. I'm really tired lately, and U...Ukitake-san is sick."

"Not Captain Ukitake?" Renji asked. Hinamori simply stared at the tea cupped in her hands. The reflection it showed her was nothing short of distress.

"That's not-"

"Sounds like you like him." Renji pushed. Hinamori jumped to her feet, the tea cup bouncing to the ground, resistant to cracking. "Looks like you're in need of a spar."

"I think I am."

Hinamori had grown during the years. Her arms were sturdy, legs bunched, mouth crueler. The reflexes and senses she once had were nothing compared to the peak they were at now. She could spar one-on-one with Renji with his bankai. It frightened him that she could do so without releasing her own. One time, a few vertebra of his snake bankai shattered completely and the time the sword had to nurse its wounds was over a week. There had actually been many times blood had been spilt, and not Hinamori's.

During their current duel, Ukitake had managed to convince others that he was too sick for anyone to diligently stare at him and make sure he was still breathing. He found Rukia and settled himself next to her. She nodded at him, but returned her shocked stare at the blurs that were meant to be Renji and Hinamori. Minutes passed as the fighters were observed. Hinamori obliterated the spirit particles connecting the snake bankai. Renji rejoined the fragments, but it was weaker. It failed to fly the way it was meant to, and so it barely touched Hinamori. In turn, she sent a spray of pink flames towards the man. He dodged, yet she was already behind him.

"When did you learn that flash step?" Renji asked out of surprise.

"When I learned my to see it?" Hinamori said as an answer, releasing her sword's new form.

Ukitake got to his feet once the two fighters relinquished and came back down.

"Congratulations, Hinamori-san! I'm delighted that you've reached your potential."

"I'm not completely there yet, but I know that I can try for the fifth squad now." The girl replied. The two beamed at each other, glowing with pride and affection. Rukia and Renji exchanged glances and passed an unspoken message to one other that explained everything. Then, as a sudden change of atmosphere, Hinamori stuck her hand out towards Ukitake. He stared at the appendage like it was a foreign body.

"Thank you…for helping me." Hinamori said. Her voice had not squeaked, and for that she was grateful. The white haired man smiled warmly and took her hand, hoping she felt the same invisible cord tugging at his fingers, perhaps his core. The disconnection of hands left a frozen touch on both of their throats. They declined from speaking in order to show how it affected them.

The four friends decided to submit Hinamori's name to the first division afterwards since Kira was too busy to come. They walked side-by-side, pairing off if there was not enough room in the walkways. There were whispers digging underneath the folds of their brains. They spoke of Hinamori and her intentions to take the still empty fifth squad captain seat.

But isn't that seat cursed?

Oh yes, it is. Maybe she'll betray us, too.

She was close to him. Close to Aizen Sousuke. Very, very close.

Ukitake took Hinamori's hand, and any traces of tear creased eyes or trembling lips had dissipated. She gripped his hand hard. They were going to do this together, and as she submitted her name and the votes were cast a week later the Supreme Commander stared at the girl he had once decided was not fit enough to become captain.

"There were three captains who did not vote for you, but the rest agreed enthusiastically." Hinamori twiddled her thumbs, remembered that she was in front of authority, and unclasped her hands. Her hair was down today with a pink pin laid cutely onto of her ear. "As is, I am proud to announce that you shall be the next captain of the fifth squad."

Hinamori felt as if a rusting weight snuggling on her stomach had suddenly sprout wings and flew away. She bowed repeatedly and excused herself. Her only thoughts were, I must see him, I must see him. The girl used flash steps, making the run an easy one to Ukitake's captain quarters. The glee that was hidden inside of her burst once she saw the familiar white hair and enchanting brown eyes of Ukitake.

He was already up, throwing his hands up in excitement. They exchanged words, kind and enchanting. They never noticed the thin blushes they both shared from realizing what had happened before in this very same room. The energy inched away, the sky grabbing it like energy was a physical element.

"Hinamori." Ukitake breathed. His eyes were sad. Hinamori walked up to him, hoping to take that expression away. His lifted his hand, let it hover as he always did, and finally cupped her face. She knew she was gone when she instinctually pressed her face into his hot hand. She waited for a few wonderful moments until she understood what she let herself do.

Every nerve, muscle, and fiber of her body screamed for her to leave. This was what she was liberating herself from. To escape the need to be cared for by another. To give a piece of her soul blindly and hope she would receive a piece in compensation. She shook her head in his hand, the pain in her stomach threatened to rise from the past and claim her body once more. Shielded eyes peered at her from the clouds as if they were both a god and a devil.

Ukitake pulled his hand back and grabbed her to encase his long arms around her shoulders. He rested his mouth on Hinamori's head. She yearned to dash, leaving him there in a false cocoon of despair. But his arms and mouth planted her to the spot. The ebbing sores fluctuated, biting at her heels as if they were dogs. She did not run nor back away. Words had no place here as emotions swelled around the two beings, both battling their personal demons, both helping each other like stepping stones.

Hinamori's heartbeat scampered like a rabbit's. She pressed her tiny body against Ukitake's, searching for shelter from the storm inside. His arms fell to the middle of her back to help her find her way. The churning waves flashed to either side of them, but they resisted. Hinamori's ear had fallen upon his chest, and she spied the picture of his own condition. His heart was racing as a hawk's, swooping down from a high distance. She wrapped her arms around his waist. She hoped that they could anchor their souls down. Ukitake, shocked, brought his head up to observe her. She stared back up at him, large doe eyes opening a window to his thoughts.

They shared a pass of flesh to flesh. Lips upon another. Warm, sweet, almost a kin to mint tea. The sea calmed. The sky cleared. Two hearts threaded a new pathway to a better future. They found their knees had bent and they were on the floor. Shipwrecked together and holding on for dear life.

The words, I love you, floated about the two entities.

And the feeling only one could describe as bliss wafted inside ever air particle.

A breath of wind danced around, hoping to catch a peak.