A/N Finished this late last night so couldn't upload until this morning :) Enjoy!
"Momo, come join us!"
Momo looked up from the pages of her sketchpad. A girl with terracotta coloured hair waved from the soccer field. She grinned and waved back.
"Sorry – I need to finish this in time for you-know-what!"
The girl's expression immediately changed into something sly as she giggled into her palm. "Good luck, Momo! We'll be here for you if anything happens!"
Momo returned her laugh but inside, her stomach was growing butterflies. It had taken her years to gather her courage enough to confess, and then some more to decide how she was going to. In the end, her strange behaviour had finally led to a confrontation with her best friend, Amu and the girl had told her bluntly – just do it.
Coincidentally, it was also his birthday in a few days, so she decided to draw something expressing her feelings. She was the shy one in class, but through art, she could truly speak out. A famous artist had recognised her talent and hinted that he might take her on as an apprentice. Just the thought of it had her pulse racing.
Smiling, she scribbled the approximate layout of where the flowers were going. It would be finished after her nineteenth birthday and a few days before his. She still needed to complete the preliminary sketch before painting it.
The sound of the gong rang out through the courtyard. Momo glanced up at the darkening sky with surprise. It was already this late… time passed quickly when she was working. Packing her things away, she shouldered her pack and joined the stream of students trickling out the gates. It was hard to curb the urge to sprint back home just to make sure that everything was as it should be. The experiences of when she was younger had left too deep a mark. Any moment, she was sure she would wake up to find it was all some twisted dream.
"I'm back," she said and dumped her bag at the entrance. "I'm going to the local café for a while but I'll be home before the sun sets."
Momo's mother smiled at her, nodding her approval before resuming her reading out in the garden.
The café where Momo visited regularly was a small shack constantly filled with the aroma of tea and a strange brown substance the people called 'coffee'. Apparently, it had an exquisite taste and was imported from far off countries. Momo had tried some, and decided it was just bitter. But the tea they served was top quality, and Momo always made sure she had a healthy amount in stock at home.
Before entering the shack, she took a long sniff. Sunflower, with cinnamon infusions. Refreshing for summer time, but a bit too light for winter. She opened the door and let herself be bathed in the steamy warmth of boiling water and brewing beverages.
"Ah, Momo. Good to see you."
The owner of the place was a strange man called Urahara. He seemed to have several changes of the same clothing, or maybe he just wore the same one every day.
Momo bowed politely. "How are you doing, Urahara-san?"
Urahara considered for a moment, fanning himself idly as he thought. "Well enough. What will it be today? Lemon, sunflower, mixed or infused?"
"The winter mix," she said immediately.
Urahara snapped his fan shut and began to bustle around the shop, taking several paper bags and filling it with a combination of fresh and dried leaves. "The usual price," he said and handed her the bag.
Momo counted out a silver coin and deposited it into Urahara's palm. The man's hand closed and he withdrew the payment into a hidden pocket in his yukata.
"How's business?" Momo asked.
Urahara shrugged. "Oh, things have been quietening down from a year ago, ever since they left but that's to be expected. We sold an entire shipment of beans yesterday; they seemed to be in high demand down near Flightstone."
"Do you have the mix I asked for ready yet?"
"That? I almost forgot." The man walked leisurely to the back of the shop, opening a drawer and taking out another small paper satchel. "Here you are. I must say, a most unusual request. I had an immensely enjoyable time making it, though." He fixed her with a critical gaze under the brim of his hat. "I am surprised you thought of such an idea. By the way, someone came over today and said he wanted to see you."
Momo's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? "Who is it?"
"Looked around twenty, rather tall, pumpkin hair."
"Oh…" She was disappointed that it wasn't him, but Urahara's description didn't match anyone she knew. "Did he mention the reason?"
Urahara placed a finger to his lips and said in a business-like manner, "Private and Confidential."
Momo huffed. "Fine. Well, I'm leaving then."
Urahara smiled and tipped the brim of his hat down further over his eyes. "My very best wishes for you mother's health," he said smoothly and closed the door behind her.
Momo closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. When she opened them again, she had a nasty jolt. Exactly as Urahara described; pumpkin hair, rather tall (more like giant) and looked a year older than her (except the scowl raised that to three). "W-who…" she stammered.
He looked down at her, unamused. "Kurosaki Ichigo," he introduced, not unkindly. "I'm here on Jushiro's orders. We can leave whenever you like but it'll be before sundown today."
Momo's mouth fell open and she glanced worriedly at the sky. It was already transforming into the bright fire of sunset, but hints of blue could still be seen. She had some time. "Why? Where are you taking me?"
Ichigo kneaded his brow in obvious annoyance. "Don't tell me… you forgot." He looked directly at Momo and the girl saw familiar brown eyes reflected in them. With a gasp, she felt herself catapulted into the past, the events all rushing back to her.
"Already?" she mumbled, still in stunned.
Ichigo nodded curtly. "You seemed to have grown fine. The old man will be pleased about that. He's been going on about you for the past few months, always telling us to fetch you now. But a promise to us is unchangeable. As long as the appointed time has not arrived, you have the right to your freedom."
One thing she constantly asked herself years later was 'why didn't she resist?' It was puzzling – this man was ripping away from all that she held dear and thrusting her into a completely unknown world and she couldn't even summon a kind of verbal resistance. But looking back at it, she realised that she owed them a huge favour. They had saved her mother and restored her childhood, letting her grow up in a proper way.
"I-I need to fetch something…" Momo blurted and ran back home. That Ichigo didn't bother to follow meant that they had some way of tracking her movements. Even if she wanted to, it was fruitless to run. Her mother was in the kitchen, the sound and aroma of cooking flooding the house. Momo felt a sadness welling inside her. The table was laid for two, but only one would sit there tonight. Shaking her head, she grabbed a change of clothes from her room and shoved it into her bag. Her eyes fell on the ink and pad set out on her table ready for a night of studying. Unable to resist the urge, she picked up the brush and scrawled a rough message.
Thank you. I'll come back.
Momo xoxo
It was getting late when Momo made her way back to Urahara's café. Ichigo was tapping his foot impatiently on the cobbled pavement. When Momo came to a halt before him, panting with the exertion of the sprint, he straightened. "You ready?" he asked gruffly.
She nodded mutely.
The next thing she knew, a living shadow was wrapping around her, lulling her into a gentle slumber. Then something hard was digging into her back. The dizzying sense of motion was the last thing she remembered before time became meaningless in this dark realm. She couldn't make out anything happening in the outside world except that they were travelling inhumanly fast. Even so, the journey took a time and she soon succumbed to a deep sleep. She woke only briefly after that, when the shadow slipped away from her body, but night had truly fallen for her to make out anything other than a noiseless figure laying her gently down on a bed of feathers. It was too comfortable to stay awake anymore.
-ooooooooooo-
When her eyes opened, it was morning. The bed dwarfed her, crisp white sheets hugging her body. She snuggled deeper into the warmth, immensely satisfied with the temperature. The walls were painted a mellow brown with bamboo trees sketched in green pigment at the corners. It was furnished simply and she noticed her bag was at the foot of her bed. Someone had invaded it and set everything out on the table. She frowned and blushed. She hoped whoever it was wasn't male… there were a few things packed that were strictly women's business.
"Finally awake?"
Momo turned quickly and stared. She could hardly believe she hadn't noticed him there before. A snowy haired teen was sitting at the desk beside her bed, buried in a thick volume. "Who are you?" she said finally and sat up, quickly snatching the bed sheets back around her when she realised she was naked under the covers.
He closed the book and tucked it away in his cloak. Raising an eyebrow at her embarrassment, he offered a hand. "Call me Hitsugaya. If I'm not mistaken, your name is Momo."
Momo cautiously let go with one hand to take it. His hand was surprisingly cool to the touch and gripped hers firmly in a short shake. "It's nice to meet you, Hitsugaya," she said politely. His name was hard to pronounce and seemed determined to twist around her tongue so it sounded more like 'Hisugaia'.
Hitsugaya smiled kindly at her attempt and stood, rising to his full height. Momo was surprised. He was short for a boy, only rising to her height even though she was short for a girl. He strode over to the window and pushed the curtains aside. Momo winced as the sunlight hit her full in the face. It was bright and harsh, nothing like what she was used to.
"Welcome to the west," he said and Momo was left to unfreeze her brain and stop gaping.
Now this was most definitely a dream, Momo decided.
Except she probably wouldn't be able to wake up from it.
