Snowfall
Retsu watched the snow drift slowly, slowly past her window, and dreamed of forgotten days.
The difference was, this time, that she was not alone.
She turned her head, snuggling closer into Juushirou's steady embrace. His warmth at her back was… calming. Relaxing. Relaxation was good for the health, and especially good for the frazzled leader of the Fourth Division after a long day that left her head spinning with potions and injuries and the building damage costs from the Eleventh. Outside, the snow continued to fall and twilight crept over the Seireitei but here…
He was holding her hand, lightly, gently in his, as they watched.
Retsu would treasure moments like this in the future, when she would suddenly find herself catapulted into the bloody battlefield of Fake Karakura Town, the frantic-fearful-dying aesthetic of it all, seeing enemy and friend alike lying dead or nearly.
It was the only way she'd be able to be strong. For all of them.
But mostly, she would be strong for him.