She hadn't been until tonight. Suddenly.
That was rather unusual thought.
Shunsui's party to commemorate Captain Ukitate's late surprise birthday (which was really just an excuse to drink hard with others and not get chastised by Nanao) was attended by all Captains and their vice-captains. Instead of the usual black and white, the Shinigami loosened up for one night and instead came in other colors.
Hitsugaya Toushiro was in a dark blue kimono with a light, almost glaciel blue layer underneath. Distressingly, he found that he rather liked being appareled this way and felt very dashing. His vice-captain, Matsumoto, came in a disgustingly flattering blood red kimono. It was no surprise that most eyes were on her br-her, Shiro corrected himself mentally. Despite the sudden whirlwind of colors, laughter, and booze, Toushiro couldn't get into the joyful mood. He wasn't much of a party animal, and wasn't planning on becoming one tonight. Thus, he spent his time sitting in the back, trying to catergorize people by their "color".
Matsumoto was a bright orange or red. A warm color no doubt.
Byakuya was bone white, just like his gay little barettes. The white-haired captain made a mental note to never say that outloud.
Renji was a fiery red.
And Hinamori Momo was a-
Before he could say, he suddenly noticed her kimono. It was a pretty green, brightly verdant but not a pain on the eyes, like chartruese. Not evergreen, but a pleasant middle hue. Cu-very pretty, Shiro thought, and how oddly matching. How odd. She never seemed like a green, always a pink or a light purple. Yet right now, she was a green.
But green always felt so ridiculous to him.
Before he knew it, Hinamori had approached him and they were outside, quietly sitting on the porch, watching the sakura petals fall from the tree in front of them as a zephyr gently sang through the Soul Society.
This was the kind of party Hitsugaya liked. Just a few people. Like two people. With comfortable silence reigning, punctuated by a few sentences and beautiful scenery to muse over.
She seemed to like how the starry night would be randomly disturbed with a flurry of petals and the bright moon hanging over the walls shed
Shiro disgusted himself with his descriptive language. In plain language, he enjoyed spending time with her, but during the past few months, with all the work of being captains, and her work as a vice-captain and Aizen-
There was an abrupt stop in his mind, as he berated himself. He was NOT jealous of Aizen. Not at all. Just a little. Alright, a bit. Okay, he was jealous. Okay, OKAY, he was jealous to the degree that would've STRANGLED Aizen just to be fawned over and worshipped by Hinamori. Hitsugaya would've DIED if he could ever, EVER get into that position. But that would be hard. No, impossible.
Hinamori looked as if she wanted to talk. Stray petals had fallen on her kimono and in her hair, and she was a picture of peaceful prettiness and innocent joy. Shiro felt like throwing up because it was sugary cute to a dental alert degree and also because he wanted to tell her something she didn't want to hear. But he might as well tell her now, right? Then, if she rejected him, at least he could get her piss drunk and she'd probably forget he ever said a thing. There was liquor to spare and Momo had no alcohol tolerance to speak of. It was a plan.
"It's such a pretty night, isn't it, Shiro-kun?" No formalities. Good. One point for him. He inwardly cheered.
"Yeah." That was it? Good job, "genius". Why couldn't he be more intelligent? suave? Aizen-like?
"It's a shame that Aizen-taichou couldn't be here" Shit. One point for Aizen. They were about a sentence away from where both didn't want to go. No one needed to know about love lives. There was a silence for a few seconds.
"Hey, um...Hinamori..chan...I wanted tell you something but-" "D-don't say anything!"
Why'd she interrupt him? He wanted to pull rank, but he didn't want to keep talking and divulge his soul if she didn't want to hear it. After all, if she wouldn't who would?
After a gust of wind and silence subsided, she turned to him and said, "Sorry, Shiro-kun. I shouldn't have interrupted. What were you going to say?"
I can't LOOK at her, Shiro realized. He was trying to say it, say something, ANYTHING, but everytime he tried to face her like a man and look her full in the face, he couldn't. He relegated his stare to the wooden porch and the soft grassy color of her outfit and the sakura petal that strayed near her pretty fingers and he began to wonder what he'd say and he wished he hadn't said anything and he tried to clear his thoughts but he couldn't because it was difficult when she was around so he said the only thing he could think of.
"Hinamori-chan...um...it-it's hard to say but..." come on, COME ON. He was a prodigy, right? He'd been through worse. JUST SAY IT his inner self was screaming.
"What's wrong Shiro-kun?" Why did she have to say his name that way? In her WAY?
"It'd be easier to say if I loved you less, but..." Hitsugaya mumbled pathetically, and shot up the moment he realized what had just popped out if his mouth.
"What did you say, Shiro?" Hinamori inquired politely. Apparently she had been busy marveling the moon and hadn't heard a word. Aren't I charming, he thought. Why did she make him say it again? He was dumb around her, and didn't think around her, and that wasn't something anyone could do. And even though he wished he could tell her everything she did that drove him crazy and made her beautiful and made her special and left him empty and made him love her, he couldn't do it again. His brain was frozen.
"Nothing."
Smiling sorrowfully and quietly, Toushiro only watched as she hurriedly mutter an apology and ran off to go back and help Aizen-taichou.
Maybe another day. Another night. Maybe when she wore that green kimono again. Someday.