Title: To Deny
Chapter: 1/1 (oneshot)
Overall Rating: PG
Pairings: Hitsuhina
Disclaimer: Bleach not mine, cause I can't draw as well as i'd like.
He was screaming her name, it was obvious to him, but if he didn't ignore it, then he would also have to acknowledge the tears rolling down his face, the chill down his back, the dead body in his arms. So he kept on ignoring his screaming.
She couldn't be dead; after all, she was still supposed to be mourning over the traitor... wasn't she?
Her face was calm, beautiful, but it was so misplaced. He tried to convince himself that she hadn't stood up once he had been knocked down, bloodied, wounded, and helpless. His life had flashed before his eyes as the monster before him had raised his blade, only to be slammed by an incredibly intense bolt of lightning. They were a figment of his imagination, the pair of feet, which appeared before his eyes. She didn't just lift her blade and ask him if he was alright. He was just dreaming, which is why he didn't see her smile in relief when he grunted.
"Sleep, Shiro-kun. Everything will be alright." She had said them so softly it seemed like a dream.
A green orb appeared before him and he could feel his wounds stitch close, a battle cry and the shifting of clothes. He had lost conscious, but not before he had heard the words… Way of destruction 83...
She couldn't be that strong because then that meant she didn't need him to protect her anymore... right?
When he had awoken a short time later, his eyes had been greeted with the sight of Hinamori, standing strong, a strange blade with 7 prongs in her hand. Before her was a great crater, with a withering, seething being in the center. The figure cursed her name before collapsing and lying still, and Hinamori turned, a smile on her face. His eyes didn't catch the torrent of blood and lack of an arm before it was too late. She hadn't stumbled into his arms, and smiled the smile he had grown to love and protect. The cool silken strands spread across his lap weren't her hair.
She couldn't be dying in his arms because he had to protect her... but could he?
"Ne... Shiro... If I ever see you again... Can I call you Shiro-kun forever?" She hadn't whispered that, he didn't want her to say that.
"Che, can't you just call me Hitsugaya-taichou like everyone else?" He didn't just say that, the weak attempt at sarcasm barely hiding the feeling of purest agony.
She didn't just laugh, the sound reminding him of a nightingale. "But then, Shiro-kun would be just a stranger then... I don't want that, because Shiro-kun isn't a stranger... He's the most important person in my life." She didn't just say that while staring into his eyes.
"Hmmm... I guess bedwetter Momo..." What was he saying? Why was she smiling like that? A dream, it had to be a dream!
"My Shiro-kun..." What had brushed against his cheek was just the wind, not her hand. It wasn't that she was getting colder, he was just getting warmer...
She was just sleeping, she couldn't, wouldn't, can't... she was dead.
He was screaming, he was crying, he pleaded with her to come back. He promised her the world that she could call him whatever she wanted, love whomever she wanted, she just had to come back.
All she did was smile and fade away.
And all he did was mourn.
AN: Figures, the day I try to write serious romance, my angst muse bowls me over with something tearjerking. sigh Review away...