the nights have monsters (but i'm with you)

Hinamori Momo struggles to transition into a life after war. Sleepless for most nights and burdened with survivor’s guilt, her feet lead her to the person that could give her comfort, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t. It’ll only take a few nights before her walls of pretense start to crumble, and she’ll be left to face the remains of her ghosts.

In an era of peace, the peacekeepers are restless.

Hinamori Momo struggles to transition into a life after war. Sleepless for most nights and burdened with survivor’s guilt, her feet lead her to the person that could give her comfort, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t. It’ll only take a few nights before her walls of pretense start to crumble, and she’ll be left to face the remains of her ghosts.

some hitsuhina snippet for a fic i'll be releasing <3

xoxo

His grip relaxes. There’s likewise a weight off her shoulder. “I should have listened to Matsumoto. I overlooked it.”

She chuckles in agreement. “Whatever advice she gives is always correct.”

“Consider this as reparation.” He lifts their clasped hands and points to a set of lights in the distance. “That’s Aquarius. Bet you don’t know as many constellations as I do.”

“Canis Major.”

“Cygnus.”

“Perseus.”

“Leo.”

They go back and forth like in the olden days. When it seems like they have exhausted the list, Hitsugaya smirks, telling her there’s one constellation left.

“There are only 88. We already said each one.” Laughter bubbles from Hinamori’s mouth.

“No, you missed one.”

Hitsugaya traces with his other hand the moles on her face, his finger ghosting across her skin, each arrival at a mark builds anticipation to his touch, until his palm finally connects with her cheek, and she leans against it like it’s the most natural thing to do.

This is Toshiro, her childhood best friend. She has held his hand before, touched his face, and talked this close to him. He should be familiar, but all of these are new to her. 

“This,” he says in a whisper; a bated breath, a revelation tumultuous with fear, “is my favorite constellation.”

“Would you ever want to be a father, Shirou-kun?” The question comes from nowhere. It’s a curveball. It’s something that never passed his mind. Hitsugaya, in essence, is perfectly content minding Renji and Rukia’s kids with Hinamori while the couple vacationed in the human world. This is quite the set-up the sick Byakuya prepared for him. The captain is reportedly at this point where he wishes and facilitates everyone’s happiness. Byakuya in his matchmaker era.

“I mean like, do you see yourself having mini-call-me-captain-hitsugaya-not-shirou-kun?” Momo even mimics the voice and facial expressions he makes, but she struggles to laugh so as not to awaken the already asleep babies.

He flashes her a glare, but this doesn’t really work on her. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to imagine the ridiculous scene. “Well, they’d be annoying and loud-mouth. Would love watermelon and would shoot the seeds like I do. But they’re gonna be talented, cheerful, and detail-oriented like their mother. The silver hair doesn’t quite suit kids - they might get bullied - so I hope they’ll have your hair –”

“What?”

Ah, shit. He literally exposed himself. All these tiptoeing for centuries, and a slip of the mouth is what gets him the eternal friendzone.

“Is it possible to pretend you didn’t hear it?”

“Shirou….” He feels her shoulder bump against him, and he has no choice but to look at her. See her beet red face fight the urge to also look away. “You understand that you first need to ask me on a date before we get to the kids part?”

He gives out a pretty loud relieved sigh. “Oh kami you make everything so easy.”

“It’s always easy with you, don’t you know?”

Hinamori gently traces her finger on Hitsugaya’s palm. He hopes she doesn’t notice how his hand is both cold and sweating, the minute hair on each exposed surface standing on end in anticipation of her skin.

“So what’s my fate?” Nonchalance is the biggest mask for his enamor. And so is his other hand on his chin, an impatient transition to fleeting glances on her lashes.

“The madam just taught me how to read the name of one’s soulmate.” She stays still in concentration while he begs to differ. She doesn’t need to do this, she only needs to ask, her name already on the tip of his tongue.

Her finger follows the lines on the scratched field, gone rugged from centuries of fighting, and she makes out a letter. There’s a growing smile on the corner of her lips, bordering on jubilance and exasperation.

“Oh how silly. It’s still your initial I’m seeing.” She lets go of his hand and he feels weightless without her anchor.

“Letter H, huh.”

The realization dawns on her face – he sees it, she knows it, but they do not speak it into existence. They are a pendulum of indecisiveness, afraid to stay on either side of platonic and romantic. Maybe it’s enough for now, the silent assurance that the universe has made her his, and he hers.

When Nightmares Haunt

Hitsugaya doesn’t believe in supernaturals. They are literally soul reapers after all. But he can’t deny the shivers that run across his arms when he hears staggered footsteps outside of his room in the garden where his other doors open to, especially during the hot summer seasons. He sits up straight and feels Hyourinmaru beside him. He’s sure he heard the steps but not the brush of the waraji against the stony pavement.

He opens the doors to the garden and finds no one, but the lingering reiatsu signature surprises him. She should be on the other end of the town recuperating.

Blue Fire Tree

“Fire trees should be blue not red,” Ichika mumbles while filling in the traced pattern of the tree on the canvass as Hinamori gathers her unruly red mane into a semblance of a bun. Her charge was a Shinigami apprentice and had the hodgepodge attitude of both of her parents. She was sarcastic, blunt, inquisitive, passionate, and kind.

Renji thought she was the best person to teach his daughter common spells to start off her training. Not that Hinamori disliked being the resident kido expert. She particularly loved the monicker, but there were times she felt she didn’t deserve the title. Like today when, for some other reason, Ichika and her was blindsided by arts and crafts.

“Wouldn’t you like the flowers to resemble your hair?” Hinamori clips the last of the strands and looks over the child’s shoulder. The colors spill out of the lines and the scenery seems to change from summer to winter.

“But blue is the hottest color. Imagine trees blooming with the brightest flames, the most intense warmth, and the most lasting flowers.” Ichika finishes the piece with a last dash of blue paint. The apprentice turns to her and asks, “Does it look so desolate?”

“No, not really. To me, winter has always been warm.“

Your Feet (Tus Pies)

Tens of letters spill out of Hitsugaya’s locker. It isn’t Valentine’s Day or any other holiday, it is just that – a normal day for the stoic heartthrob of the school. He finds love too taxing, wondering how he could fit in the dates among his tennis practices, academic decathlons, and volunteer time in the campus greenhouse. Or maybe it is just a matter of preference and he saw no one yet who could fit his standards.

That is, if he even knows his own standards. So the letters all go to the nearby trash can as he joins his friends in the classroom.

It catches him off guard when he finds the perpetually vacant seat in front of him by the window occupied by a rather familiar face. Brown eyes catches his gaze and recognition flashes across her features, but she doesn’t say hi to him and averts her gaze away from him and directs it on the Pablo Neruda book she’s reading.

Meowdy Shiro

“I’m sorry, you’re asking me to what?”

Hinamori has an empty box cradled between her arms with small tufts of orange fur poking through the opening. Hitsugaya hears the small meow, and he looks at her incredulously.

“He’s been staying with me for a few days,” Hinamori tells him. “You know it’s raining cats and dogs since last week-“

“And you literally caught a cat from the downpour?”

“It went to my door, asking for food.” Hinamori sighs and retrieves the furry animal from the box. She supports its lower body with her arm and uses her other hand to make its paw wave at him.

Cute devil orange globs stare back at him, but Hitsugaya swears it’s an embodiment of a demon spawn – claws, vampire fangs, and a face that can get away with anything. The ears flick from one side to another in sync with its nose that seems to get bigger by the second.

Growing A Garden

Hitsugaya tries to keep his strides light and slow. He’s not in a hurry, in fact, he’s taking his time, but he glances at his watch (a gift from Kurosaki Ichigo which has alarm function for his naps), and he flash-steps all the way inside Division Five.

He knows her desk and locates it the moment he announces his arrival, but she is nowhere to be found. Other division members are already accustomed to his erratic visits, and thankfully, do not question his purpose. As he comes closer, he sees the snow globe on top of neatly piled folders, and he lets out a giggle (well he is alone anyway) – she uses his gift as paperweight. He smugly puts a single sheet of paper on the existing stack and leaves a small bunch of purple asters on the side.

First Snow

“It’s gotten quite chilly nowadays huh,” Rangiku remarks as she lounges on the couch in her captain’s office. “Come to think of it, it’s your first winter without any mission.”

“You are right, but if you’re not gonna help me with the paperwork, this might as well be your mission while Captain Commander Kyoraku goes on a drinking spree,” Hitsugaya sneers at his vice-captain over the stack of documents on his desk.

“But it’s so cold I’m so sleepy.”

“Ah all right, I’ll make it so cold you’ll freeze to death.”

Rangiku smiles apologetically, sensing the irritation in Hitsugaya’s voice. He is difficult to appease, especially when someone is also holed up at this moment in another captain’s office, stuck with the same year-end paperwork.

A Name To Call Home

Hitsugaya came home yet again covered in bruises. “Stupid kids, they think I don’t know how to fight,” he mumbled to himself. Eventually, a smirk took over his whole face, remembering how he took on a group of four teenagers, obviously older and taller than him, who stole a watermelon from his favorite vendor. He halted in his steps when he saw his granny outside of their small home with a black-haired girl.

“Obaa-chan, is she bothering you?” He was admittedly overprotective over his grandmother, and so it has become a second nature for him to raise his voice and doubt the intentions of all strangers interacting with her.

The girl didn’t back away from his supposedly intimidating presence, instead she greeted him with a smile and wave, a bundle of amanitto in her hands.

“You’re just right in time, Hitsugaya. Momo brought us some food,” his grandmother took the food from her hands and softly ruffled her hair. The girl loved the quick affection and turned to Hitsugaya with her hand held out.

“Shiro,” she said.

“Huh, my reputation precedes me. You already know my name,” Hitsugaya huffed, quite pleased that he didn’t need to introduce himself…or shake her hand.

“No, it’s your hair. Shiro.” White like snow.

Endless Seasons With You

Chapter 12 of The Spring He Came Back | 12 of 12

Hinamori’s eyes fluttered open at the arresting sound of her alarm clock. Her phone was also simultaneously ringing. How she came home she’ll never know, but she was still in her coordinated outfit and she was lying down in her room with the heater perfectly functioning. Her mouth was so dry and coarse like felt paper; it was as if the alcohol evaporated inside. Her last memory before she blacked out was….Hitsugaya, his hooded gaze, and his lips on her.

She reddened immediately at the recall. Her hands slapped her cheeks several times to get out of the trance. She was fairly certain it was a dream. Sharp pain shot through her temples, indicating the coming and going of migraines from an alcohol-induced night. Her eyes found the medicine bottle and the note under it on her side table.

For your hangover. Sorry I wasn’t able to say goodbye. – Shirou

Into the Wonderful Unknown

Chapter 11 of The Spring He Came Back | 11 of 12

Momo: I told him don’t go and his response was to hold my hand. What does that even mean?

Rukia: He thought you were cold, didn’t he?

Momo: How come you know this?

Rukia: I have an idiot too, just so you know. (^,^)

“Why are you still up?” A yawning Hitsugaya appeared behind her. Hinamori hurriedly shut off her phone and turned to him.

“Why aren’t you still sleeping?” she asked. She closed the door to the patio and lightly walked towards Baba’s room. The heaters were still broken when she asked her again this morning. She might have to call utilities to do a home visit soon. Weirdly enough, Baba adamantly refused the home service when Hinamori proposed it to her over dinner.

“You weren’t sleeping yet.” His nonchalant behavior was what was confusing her. Her trauma made it hard for her to read actions and connect these with words. She was often taken advantage of in her ignorance in the past, and she knew deep down that Hitsugaya was not that kind of person. But will it do her any good if she wears her heart on her sleeve again?

He mumbled a soft good night as he pulled the blanket over his head, some of the strands still stood out. “Like a broomstick,” Hinamori noted.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you cold again?”

“Not really.” Why? Will you hold my hand?

“Hmm. That’s unfortunate.” He turned his back on her and soon fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning, Hinamori inspected her room again while Hitsugaya helped Baba prepare breakfast and bento lunches. She tried to find the heater but to no avail. Baba might have placed it in the storage in the backyard? Following her hunch, she went to the small detachment at the back of the main house. True enough, she found the heaters from their rooms.

“Okay, let’s do quick repairs before I go to work.” She rolled her sleeves and started to look at each nook and crevice of the device. They were both in pristine conditions. Baba, like all their friends and all her acquaintances, was doing wingman duties. She mulled her next decision for the next few minutes – whether she should be angry at her grandmother for forcing her to be literally closer to Hitsugaya or just go along with it.

Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

Grab It Before It Passes

Chapter 10 of  The Spring He Came Back | 10 of 12

What was she thinking? She was late to work because she slept in. And why did she sleep in? Because she and Hitsugaya talked until morning. Nice sabotaging your business, Hinamori. She arrived in front of her shop, breathless from her fast cycling, and she was greeted by a small line of her constant customers. When the morning storm died down, she started to prepare reserved bouquets despite feeling lightheaded. It was already lunch time when she finished all her orders and walk-ins.

The bell on the door rang again, and she stood up from the counter to meet her next customer. Maybe I’ll skip lunch today.

“Don’t skip lunch today.” Hitsugaya was yawning as he entered the shop. Hinamori was thankful he got rid of the glasses and kept his old hairstyle. He waved her closer and indicated the bento in his hands. “Sorry for keeping you up until morning.”

If there were other customers right now, I’m pretty sure his words will be taken out of context. Well, we were kind of intimate last night. Hinamori soothed the forming ache on her temples. He rushed to her side and cupped her face anxiously. “Are you okay Momo?”

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” a supplier came in at that inopportune moment, a crate of azaleas in their hands.

Before Hinamori could go to them, Hitsugaya bridged the distance in quick strides and took the crate. “No, is this all? Hinamori has a headache so please let me get this.”

“Ah, Dr. Hitsugaya.” The supplier recognized him and instantly became awed at meeting one of Soul Society’s prodigies. “Of course, of course. Uh, wait, Hinamori, you’re still set for farm visit?”

Trying to control her blush, Hinamori smiled at her supplier. “Yes. I’ll see you at 4. Thank you.” She followed them to the door and placed a lunch break sign. “Please don’t do that again when I’m at work.”

“I’m sorry. I acted on instinct.” Hitsugaya placed the bento boxes on a nearby table and the aroma escaping from the box ushered her closer.

It didn’t occur to her that she should dwell on his statement. She was hungry, and she needed caffeine. She devoured her food and answered Hitsugaya’s questions on flowers in between bites. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked while she took a large bite from a tempura.

“I also woke up late so I just went straight to my lunch meeting at the academy. Too bad I wasn’t able to buy you tea on the way here.” He stifled a yawn again.

Hinamori finished the last of her meal, and set aside the box. She checked the counter once more before she gestured him to stand and follow her. “Let’s drop by quickly at my favorite café.”

The Spring He Came Back

Chapter 9 of The Spring He Came Back | 9 of 12

Hitsugaya did not reply to her question about which flowers he needed. Hinamori took the hint that he wasn’t there to buy so what was he here for?

“Are you busy? Can you show me around?”

She wanted to shout in response, Why should I have to?

“I don’t think it’s rational that you can waltz right in here and then ask me to give up a day’s business to be your tour guide,” she replied, trying to be nonchalant. He could have asked Rangiku or any of the three Rs to accompany him so why her? Did he have a score to settle with her? Was this an added punishment? Or was this his way of reconciliation? Was she reading into his actions too much? She eventually sighed. “I guess the youngest Physics prodigy could be an exemption.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he quipped, adjusting his glasses on his nose, a new quirk Hinamori quickly caught on. She was crazy to think everything will remain the same. It will never be.

Breathing is a foreign task

Chapter 8 of The Spring He Came Back | 8 of 12

“Shirou!” Her voice was drowned out by the squeal of racing wheels against the rail and the loud whistle of its departure. Catching her breath, she hesitated for a few seconds but regained her composure and sprinted to the end of the platform, her bun coming undone with the icy wind. He was just standing at the door. He could still see her. “Shirou!”

He looked up at that moment, his eyes immediately locking with hers, and both mirrored confusing expressions of guilt, desperation, and relief. What a million words longing to be said. What a million thoughts needed to be shared. What a million things. She finally reached the end of the station where she could no longer run after him. She stared at the receding figure of the dreams that would take him away again.

Judgment needed, not judgment deserved

Chapter 7 of The Spring He Came Back | 7 of 12

The academy tribunal was rarely used. When it was opened to the public, it only meant that the students and professors violated the stringent protocols of the academy. Public trial also implied public shaming, a more surefire way to ruin an academic reputation. The regular admission students filled the big room, hushed voices growing along with the shuffling of feet.

It took a while before Hitsugaya to reach the front benches where Soul members were supposed to sit. He almost froze when his eyes met the wavering gaze of Momo. They both said hurtful words, but hers were more painful. She was standing beside Aizen who was still smiling behind the podium. Hitsugaya eventually found Rangiku, Rukia, and Renji sitting behind Urahara and Byakuya.

Unohana stepped forward, her figure commanded the fall of heavy silence in the room. Academy supervisors readied their hands on laptops for real time transcription. “Aizen Sousuke, senior faculty and Soul member, and Hinamori Momo, top student of regular class A, you are facing charges for plagiarism, fraud, and embezzlement. I, Unohana Retsu, will oversee your public trial today. Please acknowledge your audience.”