Prompt #5: Price
Everything in the world demanded a price.
Hitsugaya bit deeply into a thick slice of red, juicy-sweet fruit. The watermelon dealor had wanted two hundred yen for his melons.
The white-haired rukongai spirit-boy carefully selected a particularly delicious looking watermelon. Fumbling in his pocket, Hitsugaya produced the required coins and handed them over to the dealer. No, "handed over" would be incorrect. Making sure he avoided the storekeeper's eyes, Hitsugaya placed the coins on the red-stained counter. The dealer grunted, stretching out a hand and dumping his change on the counter. The coins made a almost musical, clinking sound as they hit the wood.
The icy dragon inside him wanted Hitsugaya to soar with it through the sharp blue sky.
I dream of a plain of ice. A howling wind tore at Hitsugaya's thin clothes, whipping his sleeves furiously. White, soulless, stretching to infinity. But something moves there. The distant roaring grew louder. Something moves behind the sky, behind my thoughts and dreams. I hear a voice… The impossibly harsh tones were slowly being shaped into words. Reverberating across the plain, speaking in the sound of thunder. Hitsugaya clamped his hands to his ears, wincing in pain, shutting out the sound, finding solace in denial. No, not yet! Shut up! Can't you see that I can't – I can't… Crushing. Resounding. Unending. A pair of feral scarlet eyes bored into his, pushing him, crushing him. Hitsugaya opened his mouth in a voiceless scream as the agonizing pressure pounded him mercilessly into the ground. On that plain of ice, I die.
Panting with exertion, Hitsugaya bolted upright. The white-haired boy swiped his hand across his sweaty forehead.
Hinamori wanted her childhood friend to let her go.
"You do understand, don't you, Shiro-chan?" A pair of wide, innocent brown eyes peered anxiously at her short friend, "Aizen-taicho really does need me."
Hitsugaya pushed his arms inside his sleeves. Scowling, he barked, "What the hell are you blabbering about? Who cares if you don't visit much anymore?"
Hinamori smiled at him, her eyes showing her thanks. Ruffling the boy's snow-white hair, the fifth squad shinigami trotted off, calling back over her shoulder, "I'll visit you next week, Shiro-chan!"
"Baka! It's not Shiro-chan!"
The departing figure of Hinamori took a full hour to fade from sight.
The watermelon juice dripped down his chin. Hitsugaya wiped if off quickly, frowning as the red drops were quickly soaked up by the parched earth.
Everything had a price – but Hitsugaya wasn't ready pay it.