Dedicated to BlueMiko - who reads and laughs and appreciates. - RedMiko -
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tite Kubo. I just wish my brain worked like his…
I know there isn't time for this - but this is set before the war with Aizen but after his betrayal. Hinamori and Hitsugaya
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Cold and Heartless as Snow
It's a sport as old as time, it seems. See two people - almost children, really – glide along the slick surface, awash in moonlight and surrounded by the austere glitter that is that is the cold heartless snow.
See the boy? He has the weight of manhood on his small shoulders – but don't ever question his age. What he lacks in stature and years, he makes up for in leadership and strength. Though he commands a division of top-notch Shinigami, he has little command over the kindness of his heart. Often, you'll find his white head bent over the division's paperwork while his fukutaichou slumbers on. Or you'll see him pass the Fourth Divison's headquarters and see a frown flit across his vivid eyes as he stops and gazes at it. Or, if you'd stopped by this particular reservoir early in the evening, you would have seen him diligently hovering over it on wings of ice, arguing with a freezing dragon.
Or you could trespass on this perfect moment. His hand engulfs hers and his face has a scowl as he pulls her along – his skating is filled with lazy ease – but maybe that scowl isn't so deep as usual. And maybe he doesn't normally hold hands with a girl – but tonight is different…
See the girl? She is frailty. Her spirit and her heart are too big for her body – her loyalty is deep and she loves not wisely but too well. Even now, she recovers from wounds to her body and soul – she should not be out here in the cold, but she snuck out to be with her old friend and to taste the winters of the real world. She is both gentle and hesitant but when faced with a challenge, happy to tackle it.
Like now. She focuses on her feet, laughing as she tries to keep them in line as she glides across the ice, her gait one of awkward eagerness. Her cheeks, pale with sickness and worry, have a flush of excitement; her voice, a pitch of joy. Her hair has escaped its bun, whipping in her wind as the boy skims behind her and gives her a steady push, sending her faster than ever.
She shrieks; she cannot hold her distance and so she crashes into a nearby snowbank, sending up a shower of snow powder. Laughing, the boy skates up and pulls her out by the back of her jacket. So intent is he on dusting her off and checking her for bruises that he doesn't notice her sly smile or the hand flying to his collar until he yelps at the sudden rush of cold down the back of his neck and the quickly melting snow that dribbles under his shirt.
Away he flashes, shunpo on skates, and she follows as best she can, readying her next round of ammunition. Though he is fast, she is deadly in her aim. They flit along the moon-bleached ice, two swallows skimming the surface of the lake. Crisscrossing each others paths, they attract and repel until the inevitable occurs and one crashes into the other and they topple into the snow.
By this time, snow falls from the sky – fat flakes like cold kisses – and she gasps in wonder. There is snow in the Seireitei – but nothing quite like this. Not that she's ever experienced outside in the wild. She reaches toward the sky, where the snow masquerades as stars and asks, didn't you create all this?
Not the snow, he replies. It's winter here already. I just helped it freeze.
Thank you, she breathes and puts her hand back in his. Thank you for such a wonderful evening…
He shrugs. You're welcome, I guess. Glad you're doing better. The silence spreads, the quiet hiss of snow falling, the stillness of stars. Indecision flickers across his face and he looks down at their joined hands. Maybe she's completely better? Maybe there is no Aizen in her heart anymore? Maybe…maybe they can go skating again someday. Or maybe they can go visit Granny and eat watermelon once more. She could spit seeds at him and he could spit them back and they'd swing their feet on the porch and draw in the dust with their toes and not care about the world or the upcoming war…
Would you ever kiss me, Shiro-chan? The stars shiver with her laughter and her hand tightens on his.
Baka, he grumbles. Why should I? You're just Momo.
Her breath hitches and he regrets his tone of voice and maybe even his words. She pulls her hand back and folds them over her stomach. Then--
I wish Aizen-sama could see this…
It's a story as old as time, it seems. See two people - almost children, really – lie beside a frozen lake, awash in moonlight and surrounded by the austere glitter that is the cold heartless snow.
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A/N: Interpret as you will. Personally, I hate the damage Aizen has done on Hinamori and her relationship with Hitsugaya. I think there was ample room for them to become something more, but I wonder if Hinamori will ever come to terms that Aizen is just the biggest bastard around...
