Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, as much as I wish I did. If it were mine, No Breaths of Hell would have at least 2 or 3 more chapters. Bring on the dead people Kubo!

Heads up: This story stands on its own, portraying the Vizards in the human world. Oh, and be prepared for me to put Hiyori through all kinds of jealous/angsty situations. If we had to place it on the timeline, I'd say a couple of years before the Agent of the Shinigami arc, like 6 years after "After the Rain". No need to worry about spoilers, though.

And just a quick note: Brace yourselves for Hiyori's colorful language!

This is taking inspiration from Taylor Swift's "Hits Different" song as I gear up for her concert in a couple of weeks. With her songs on replay in my head all day, it's like having these two dummies and her tunes jamming around the clock. Concert excitement is real, and I can't wait to immerse myself in the experience!

Chapter 3: Antithetical dream girl

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

The disappearance of Hiyori had ignited a potent blend of worry within Shinji, propelling him to scour the familiar surroundings around the Urahara's shop. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the city bathed in a warm, golden glow, serving as a reminder of the fleeting passage of time.

Hours slipped away unnoticed as he tirelessly combed the area, no reiatsu to feel as the shadows lengthening with the sun's descent, amplifying his growing unease. His signature brown hat offered a small respite from the dying light, casting a shadow across his face. The once-bustling city transitioned into a more subdued atmosphere, neon signs flickering to life. Despite the encroaching darkness, Shinji's sole focus remained on finding Hiyori, an unwavering determination that led him to higher ground for a panoramic view of the city.

As he ascended, the knot of worry in his stomach tightened, his anticipation fueled by a mix of exhaustion and urgency. The fading sun provided a momentary solace, its warmth offering relief from the relentless search. With the last traces of daylight retreating, Shinji found himself atop a tall building, greeted by a breathtaking canvas of deep purples and blues.

And with the small Vizard in mind, he followed the metaphorical breadcrumbs, his determination guiding him to a particular building. As he ascended, each step seemed to carry a mix of hope and apprehension. And then, there it was – a little red dot with vibrant yellow hair, perched within the same building he had painstakingly climbed. His grin widened as he spotted her, a sight that both reassured and amused him. She sat there, stubborn, and unyielding, much like a stray cat that refused to be tamed.

"Well, well, if it ain't the brat, actin' all aloof like an angry kitten," he couldn't help but quip as he finally reached her, his voice laced with a touch of playful exasperation. His words were a familiar refrain, a teasing jab that held the underlying sentiment of friendship. "Ya knows, your cat-like antics could put Yoruichi to shame," he added, his tone carefully chosen to break the tension that had silently enveloped them.

The petite Vizard met his words not with a retort, but with utter silence. She ignored his presence, the weight of her feelings palpable in the air. He approached her with cautious steps, mindful of her tendency to bolt like a startled rabbit. Drawing nearer, he noticed the unusual calmness on her face, a stark contrast to the telltale signs of her recent distress: red-rimmed eyes and a slightly stuffy nose.

It was like a punch to his gut. Her pain was etched in every feature, and the realization that his own words had caused this turmoil made his chest constrict. He half-wished he could unsheathe Sakanade and let its confusion sweep over him, offering a break from the regret that gnawed at his insides. Who would've thought a simple exchange of words could wound her so deeply? This was Sarugaki "You can go fuck yourself" Hiyori, after all – the girl who had been a firecracker since their Shinigami Academy days, a pint-sized powerhouse who had thrashed three opponents three years her senior on her first week as a student.

And yet, as he replayed his words in his mind, he felt a wave of guilt. Kirio Hikifune's name had slipped from his lips, a careless mention that had sliced through her defenses. He knew, just as Aizen was a forbidden topic for him, Hiyori held an even deeper, more excruciating sensitivity toward the purple headed former 12th Squad Captain. Oh, how he wished he could snatch his words back, erase the flicker of pain he'd ignited in her eyes.

As the weight of his carelessness settled, he couldn't shake the realization that he had wounded her last night as well. It was almost laughable – Hiyori seemed to harbor some absurd aversion to the mere idea of him interacting with women. Her jealousy was both infuriating and amusing often at the same time. And to be honest, couldn't entirely blame her. The former Taichou could barely restrain himself from lunging at any human who dared to regard her with a hint of romantic interest. Last night, he had to physically restrain the urge to approach a red-haired guy who had gotten a bit too close, too familiar. Thank goodness she had pushed the intruder away before he could intervene.

He finally reached the railing of the building where her figure sat, her tiny feet dangling into the void while her face was turned towards the sky. Slouching onto the railing next to her, he positioned himself to face the opposite direction from where her gaze was fixed. The sight of her perched on the edge made his heart race. His voice carried up to her, an earnest plea, "Hey, Hiyori... Can we talk?"

The silence that followed spoke volumes as she continued to overlook him, pretending to be engrossed in the expanse before her. His patience began to wear thin, and with a soft sigh, he hit the figurative switch that never failed to elicit a reaction. "You know," he started with his signature sarcasm, "it's not like I'm asking you to audition for a shampoo commercial with that wild bird's nest on your head."

The effect was immediate. Her head snapped in his direction, her eyes narrowing with fury as her fist shot forward. It collided with his cheek in a punch so practiced, it was almost second nature to her. He stumbled back, a hand rubbing his reddened cheek, the pain oddly reassuring in its familiarity.

"That's for the idiotic comment about my beautiful hair, you flat face," she spat, her anger providing a stark contrast to the vulnerability he had seen earlier.

He smirked, a genuine grin tugging at his lips despite the sting on his face. "Ah, there's the feisty tiny gorilla I know and love."

She scoffed, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, too quick to fully register. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You're still an ass."

"Can't argue with that," he chuckled, rubbing his cheek one more time before letting his hand drop. The tension seemed to have lifted a little, the air between them lighter now.

For a while, they sat in companionable silence, side by side on the railing. The city's lights began to twinkle against the night sky, a myriad of stories playing out below them. Neither was in a hurry to break the quietude, each lost in their own thoughts.

Then, without looking at her, he spoke softly, "You know, if you really wanted to kiss me, you could've just said so."

Her head whipped towards him, a hint of red in her freckled cheeks, shock, and indignation evident in her expression. "Ar-Are you dense!? What are you talking about!?"

He grinned, an impish glint in his eyes. "Hey, a punch or a kiss – it's all the same to me."

She groaned, her face turning an endearing shade of darker red, whether from anger or embarrassment he couldn't quite tell. But as she turned away, muttering a mixture of curses under her breath, he knew he had successfully disrupted her earlier turmoil.

His fingers toyed with the rim of his hat nervously, a testament to his unease. "I came to find you. Look, about earlier, I didn't mean to—" The words stumbled out of him, his usual cocksure demeanor conspicuously absent.

"Save it, Shinji. I don't want to hear your excuses," Hiyori retorted icily, her gaze evading his like it might burn her.

He released a heavy sigh, a gesture that seemed to carry the weight of his acknowledgment. "Look, I'm not trying to dodge the fact that I messed up," he admitted, his shoulders slumping slightly under the burden of his words. "But could you just hear me out for a moment?" His voice took on a different quality, an undercurrent of urgency seeping through. It was the tone he reserved for serious matters, a departure from his usual lightheartedness, and he was determined to maintain focus on the present conversation, refraining from any insults that might divert their attention from the issue at hand.

Drawing a deep breath, he locked his brown eyes onto honey ones, the gravity of the moment hanging heavy in the air between them. "You know me, words aren't my strong suit when it comes to you. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. It's just... seeing you upset, especially when it's because of me, it doesn't sit right."

The taller blonde's tone turned softer, laced with a sincerity that caught her attention. "You've always been there, even when I'm being a monumental idiot. You're like that pesky, persistent bug that keeps buzzing around, impossible to shake off. And damn it, I hate the thought of pushing you away because of my own stupidity."

Shinji shifted to fully face her, his gaze unwavering, as if he was laying his soul bare. The tension between them was palpable, each word reverberating in the space between them. "I can't undo what I said, I get that. But I want you to know that I'm genuinely sorry, Hiyori." The weight of his apology hung heavy, as if carrying the burden of all the times he hadn't said sorry before.

In a moment of suspended time, silence stretched between them again, only the distant sounds of the city punctuating the quiet. Then, with a sigh that carried a hint of resignation, Hiyori turned to meet his gaze. Her expression, though guarded, seemed to hold a flicker of something – perhaps an unwilling openness to hear him out. And within that moment, a delicate tension hung in the air, the balance between them fragile yet holding steady. The weight of his words lingered heavily, unspoken emotions charging the atmosphere around them.

The air seemed to hum with an electric charge as he leaned in, a mere fraction of an inch between their lips. His heart raced a wild rhythm, each beat echoing the anticipation that surged through his veins. The world around them shifted, condensing into a single heartbeat, as if time itself held its breath. A soft gasp escaped her, her lips parting in a mix of surprise and something else – something he couldn't quite decipher. Her widened eyes locked onto his lips as though drawn by an irresistible force, while the rest of the world faded into insignificance. In that suspended moment, it was as if everything else ceased to exist, leaving only the gravity of their proximity.

Her fingers twitched, caught in a momentary hesitation. They swayed between the instinct to retreat, to escape the growing intensity between them, and the tantalizing urge to close the infinitesimal gap. The tension between them weighed heavily, a palpable thread that connected their unspoken desires.

But as quickly as the moment had bloomed, it was snatched away. He straightened up, a conflicted expression clouding his features. Confusion and desire waged a silent battle, the turmoil in his eyes mirroring the maelstrom of emotions that churned within him. It was a cruel dance, the one both have decided to dance, one that kept them in perpetual motion yet always at arm's length. He was ready to bridge the gap, to finally seize the moment that had been building between them for longer than he cared to admit. Yet, each time he stepped forward, the gravity of the situation seemed to intensify, a heavy weight that held him back. The tension was unbearable, like an itch he couldn't scratch, a symphony of missed opportunities and lingering regret.

And so, the agony persisted, a torture of their own making. The missed chances, the stolen glances, the almost-touches that sent tremors through their souls - it all added up to a symphony of frustration. He held the key to ending this torment, to finally tasting the sweetness of what could be. But time and again, the fear of rejection, the specter of ruining the fragile balance they had, held him back.

Coward, he berated himself inwardly.

His attempts at sincerity always seemed to backfire, twisting his intentions into something worse. Whenever he dared to speak words of kindness, she saw them as veiled pranks, doubting his genuine nature. And when she blushed or stumbled over her words, a captivating vulnerability he longed to embrace, he faltered, the fear of crossing an invisible boundary paralyzing him.

On Hiyori's part, the sudden shift snapped her back to reality, the spell broken. Feeling a twinge of embarrassment that her gaze had been so audaciously focused on his lips, she swiftly averted her eyes. Her heart raced in tandem with the tempo of her thoughts, struggling to regain her composure and revert to her typical façade of defiance. The spark that had ignited between them held the potential to become a wildfire yet fear of what it might consume held her back. The unspoken words and unanswered questions loomed large, creating a chasm that seemed insurmountable.

"F-Fine," she faltered under her breath, her voice carrying a mix of reluctant acceptance and a lingering edge of irritation. She still refused to meet his eyes again, a guard firmly in place as she attempted to restore her customary equilibrium. "But you owe me one hell of an ice cream."

His chuckle was a balm, a mixture of relief and gratitude that washed over him. The tension that had lingered began to dissipate, replaced by a tentative camaraderie. "Deal, as long as you promise to avoid any ice cream flavors involving pickles. I don't want a repeat of what happened the other day," he added with a wry smile.

A fleeting smile curved her lips, a rare sight that tugged at an unfamiliar warmth within him. Maybe, just maybe, they had taken a step towards reconciliation, even if it meant sharing quirky ice cream flavors and shouldering the intricacies of their complicated friendship.

Under the warm Karakura night sky, they strolled, guided by the allure of Hiyori's favorite ice cream shop. The vivid array of flavors beckoned from its window, prompting a detour of an extra 7 blocks, much to Shinji's vocal chagrin about the numerous other ice cream parlors they had passed. Their banter, a familiar symphony, resonated through the air as they approached the shop's entrance. Once inside, Hiyori's choice was swift and decisive – she pointed to the most expensive ice cream on the menu, her mischievous smile hinting at the indulgence to come. Shinji's raised eyebrow echoed his teasing words, "Going all out, huh?" His wallet emerged, ready to cater to her extravagant taste.

Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "You did owe me, after all Hage, do not be a cheap bastard." She claimed her spot in one of the cozy booths, her gaze unwavering as she left him with the task of both paying and retrieving their frozen delights.

"Hey," his voice called out from the counter, dripping with a mockingly theatrical tone, "Am I your waiter too?"

"Yep, Baldy, that's exactly what you are," she quipped back, her smile teasing. Extending her hand playfully, she began counting on her fingers, "You're my waiter, my bank, my errand boy."

"Me and my big mouth," he muttered under his breath, his lips curving into a fond grin. Holding the oversized banana split in his hands and two spoons, he approached her booth, an air of mock theatrics surrounding him.

"What was that?" She said not hearing what he had mumbled. Smartly, the dark blonde shook his head ignoring her question, and she went on innocently, "Are you not getting anything for yourself?"

"Brat, are you really not going to share this humungous thing with me after you drained my bank account?"

A sly grin crossed her features, her response immediate, "Nah, not this time. This is your 'I'm sorry for being a dingus' ice cream," she declared, her tone laden with both humor and fond exasperation.

He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, allowing a comfortable silence to unfold as the small Vizard relished her indulgent creation – a symphony of fruit, chocolate-covered bananas, three ice cream flavors, and a cloud of whipped cream.

Observing her with a quiet contemplation, Shinji's finger reached out to gently wipe away a stray dab of whipped cream from her cheek. Before she could protest, he playfully tasted the creamy treat from his fingertip. Then, with a subtle shift in his tone, he began, "So, how's yer hangover, huh? Did ya pop somethin' fer that poundin' head o' yours before embarkin' on yer little adventure with Yoruich"

"I wasn't going on an adventure with Yoruichi'" she repeated, her voice mockingly mimicking his grave tone while making exaggerated air quotes. "I was just heading to see Hachi about the barrier issue—it was flickering for some unknown reason."

His warm, chocolate-colored eyes bore into her, rife with a noticeable undercurrent of suspicion that was impossible to miss. His lips curled into a faint, teasing smirk as he leaned back in his seat, casually propping his chin up with his hand. "Ya know, it ain't exactly rocket science, Hiyori. That barrier flickered probably 'cause ya were broadcastin' yer reiatsu like a complete amateur, all loud 'n clear for anyone with half a spiritual sense to pick up."

He watched her with a knowing glint in his eyes, refusing to let her deflect the topic at hand. "But don't change the subject," he continued, a hint of seriousness tugging at the edges of his tone, "Is yer head still screamin' bloody murder, or did it finally decide to give ya a break?" His words held a mix of genuine concern and playful taunting.

In response, she defiantly raised her middle finger at him and continued to focus on devouring her ice cream. "My head's just fine, thank you. Contrary to popular belief, I didn't guzzle as much alcohol as you and everyone else seems to think."

"Uh-huh," he drawled, propping his cheek up on his palm while his arm rested on the table. This seemed as opportune a moment as any to broach the other matter he wanted to discuss. "You know, Hiyori, those girls from last night?... They're not worth your energy. We were merely having a conversation."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, the unexpected change of topic leaving her momentarily baffled. What did last night's girls have to do with anything we were discussing now?

Shinji pressed on, his words measured and sincere, "I realized that what you saw might have given you the wrong impression. I wasn't out there to replace anyone or to make you think there's someone else. No one can replace you, little banshee."

Her foot crashed into his beneath the confines of the diminutive table, creating an unmistakable thud that reverberated through the air, an indisputable testament to her exasperation and a forceful declaration of her irritation with his topic of conversation. "Like I care what you do or don't do with silly bimbo girls."

He winced, rubbing his mangled foot with a chuckle. "Alright, alright, guess I deserved that."

She huffed, a mixture of annoyance and something softer in her gaze. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

He grinned, unabashed. "Thank you, Hiyori, I always appreciate when you compliment me." This time she grabbed the back of his head and flung his head against the table. Making the staff and other patrons stare at them both.

"HIYORI!" He yelled at her embarrassed more of the display of violence than the actual hit, "Could you please stop behaving like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum in public?"

She let out a snort of laughter, her irritation momentarily lifted by his exasperated tone. "Oh, really? That's the best you've got?" She crossed her arms over her chest, a challenging smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I've heard better insults from a senile Hollow."

Shinji raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by her defiance. "Well, it's not like I'm trying to win any poetry contests here."

"Clearly," Hiyori retorted with a roll of her eyes and quickly finished the ice cream. "But hey, since you brought up Hikifune-san at Kisuke's, maybe she just left because she couldn't handle your smart-ass comments anymore."

Shinji genuinely smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Touche. Maybe she left a note somewhere saying, 'Gone on vacation, need a break from Shinji's puns.'"

Hiyori smirked, a reluctant chuckle escaping her lips. "Wouldn't surprise me. Maybe she's sipping fruity drinks with the Cero Division somewhere, just to escape your endless dad jokes."

"Hey now, my puns are top-tier entertainment," Shinji protested, feigning offense.

"Top-tier in torture, maybe," Hiyori shot back, unable to suppress her grin.

Shinji pushed himself up from the booth, gathering the empty plate as he headed towards the trash. Hiyori followed suit, her steps swift and purposeful, leading the way to the exit of the ice cream shop. A chorus of thanks to the staff echoed in the wake of their departure, the door chiming softly as they stepped out into the night. Shinji quickly caught up with the shorter girl, his longer legs easily matching her pace.

"You know, Munchkin," Shinji started, the teasing lilt in his voice evident, "your temper might be legendary, but I'm starting to think it's just your clever way of keeping all those admirers at bay."

"Admirers?" Hiyori raised an eyebrow; she was utterly confused. The teasing tone in Shinji's voice was not lost on her.

"Oh, you know, all those folks who can't resist a woman with a fiery personality," Shinji replied with a wink.

A snort escaped Hiyori, her lips curling into a smirk. "And where did you come up with that brilliant theory?"

Shinji feigned innocence, his expression mockingly thoughtful. "I saw that red-haired guy trying to talk to you at the Club. I tell you these odd balls are out there. They probably think you're a real catch."

"Right, because nothing says 'catch' like a good kick to the shins," Hiyori quipped, unable to hide her amusement.

"Exactly!" Shinji laughed, his smooth aura radiating playfulness. "It's like a built-in defense mechanism. They can't get too close, or they risk getting a Hiyori Special."

"Is that what you tell yourself when you can't sleep at night?" Hiyori smirked.

"Among other things," Shinji replied, his expression turning more serious for a moment and stopping in his tracks, his tone carrying a weight that made the smaller Vizard pause and realize the significance of his words. "But you know, Hiyori, as much as you like to play tough, I've seen moments when you let your guard down."

Hiyori's playful demeanor faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the ground, inadvertently halting her steps to match his. "Yeah, well, those moments are rare, and don't expect them to happen often."

"Doesn't make them any less genuine," Shinji replied softly, his tone earnest as he crouched down, aligning his gaze with hers, his hand almost instinctively reaching out as if to touch her cheek and caress her freckles. "And as for your temper, well, it's just one piece of the puzzle that is Sarugaki-san."

"Is that supposed to be comforting or another one of your clever insults?" Hiyori huffed, her eyes narrowing playfully, her hand pushing his arm away to remove the warmth of his palm from her face.

"Take it as you will," Shinji replied with a nonchalant shrug, a small smile tugging at his lips as he moved her hand away from her cheek and flicked her forehead instead, his movement quick and light. He rose to his feet, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But whether you're throwing a tantrum or lost in thought, you're still unmistakably you."

The sincerity in his voice caught Hiyori off guard, and she felt her heart skip a beat. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Yep, that's why you keep me around," said with a grin, his hip lightly bumping into her shoulder in a playful manner.

Hiyori rolled her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Shinji replied, his tone light but genuine.

As they walked side by side, their playful banter created an unspoken connection between them. The warmth of the Karakura night enveloped them, and with each step, it was as if they were rewriting old scripts, building a new chapter in their enduring friendship. The Vizard warehouse beckoned, a haven that held the promise of camaraderie, shared secrets, and a bond that could withstand even the most explosive of arguments.

.

AN:

Hey there, just popping in with some quick thoughts. They are finally together, and boy, does it feel good. Pure happiness vibes all around!

Gotta apologize though, not a whole lot of "action" to recount this time. Wanted to, really did, but the stars just didn't align for it. Timing's a tricky thing, huh?

Can we talk about something I seriously adore writing and reading? Jealous Shinji. I mean, it's a rare gem, right? You know how much I dig Hiyori's jealous moments, but there's something about Shinji's jealousy that warms my heart. And yeah, I admit it, I bask in his discomfort #noshame

Now, let's clear up that whole Ice Cream Pickle fiasco. Picture this: she orders pickle ice cream (who even does that?), absolutely hates it, and decides it's the perfect ammo to pelt chunks of pickle at Shinji's head. Result? His lush mane smelled like pickles for days. Total win for Hiyori, I'd say.

On the horizon, the next chapter's coming up and I swear it's the final one. Promise, if you're on the lookout for a dash more romance and a sprinkle less friendship, I got you covered. I'm aiming to wrap it all up before Saturday 'cause guess what? I'm headed to the TS Concert, and I know I'll be so into it that I won't be able to focus on a darn thing. So, fingers crossed, we'll be ready for an early next week release after all the proofreading jazz.

Big shoutout for the views, kudos, DM and comments! You guys rock my socks off!