HitsuHina Celebration

The gratitude he has for the life he lives now doesn't come all at once.

There are moments where he feels it deeply, like when he hears positive news on his subordinates' safety on inter-worldly missions. But most days, his gratitude is silent and subconscious, and comes out in his everyday moments.

It's cooler today, and there is gratitude in that. The breakfast he eats is fulfilling, tastes delicious, and there is gratitude. Sometime in the long day he takes a break from paperwork, and even in that there is gratitude. Later he goes outside to look at the setting of the sky, which is beautiful and blended in warm hues across the stratosphere. In the sea of nostalgia he feels, he finds gratitude, even though there is no name for it. Just the feeling of tightness in his chest as his breath leaves his lungs.

It's something he never places, never assigns when it makes itself known in the little moments. Despite this fact, it carries his everyday actions. It carries his being and motivation and willingness to wear the shihakusho uniform. It carries his reason to sit at the desk for hours when it feels uninspired. It carries his reason to complete the hours of grueling training sessions. It even carries his reason when the moments are sweet and restful on the days off.

Gratitude was in the way she slept, breathing calm, steady, quiet. A face so candid with lids drawn shut, head full of dreams. 

On the day of their marriage, with that veil partially obscuring her face, still see-through were the brown eyes from his childhood underneath, wet and starry. 

His entire being aches.

Before him, is the reason for it all. Before him is the smallest amount of luck that led him to the unbearable emotion he feels now. The reason why he forgave the world a long time ago, and will continue to forgive it, for as long as he lives. Before him, is his future waiting to be written. 

And for that, he is beyond grateful.

~~~

"If you care about someone, you need to become strong enough to protect them."

Isshin's voice is clear, full-bodied.

"When you eventually become captain, you'll climb higher in rank," The lapels of those stainless white captain's robes flutter in the wind. Both 10th division seated members, one captain, one third seat, are standing on a grassy hill overlooking the entire Seireitei. The Soukyoku can be seen in the distance. "You'll be responsible for everyone under you."

Around where they stand, the long grasses bristle, some of the drier strands picked up by the wind to carry through the sky.

"And as time passes, you'll make more friends...and you'll have more people you'll need to protect." 

Hitsugaya remembers, even in those old days. How the captain haori fit on Isshin. Not too loose, not too tight. How the simple cross mark branding the number '10' looked on his back. The only person in Soul Society allowed to bear the mark of it.

"It's a big responsibility, you get it?"

The young Hitsugaya's gaze never leaves the distant city of souls below them.

"...Yeah."

Isshin's gaze also stays on the horizon.

"That's why...If you care about someone, you need to become strong enough to protect them."

A moment of silence sinks between them as the grasses continue to whisper with the breeze. The words sink heavily in Hitsugaya's mind, too, where they'll follow past youth and into adulthood.

"No pressure. One day, you'll get there. You've already got the work ethic down." Isshin finally glances down, with that signature smile, a flash of perfect teeth, where it meets his equally beaming eyes.

Unbeknownst to Hitsugaya, it becomes the part of his captain he'll remember the most, even centuries later.

~~~

On the heels of autumn into wintertide, the crisp breath of early December was unselfish, and granted no impartiality.

Moments of apricity became sought for, however, when the sun was out just right, and shone just so. One early afternoon in the century post-war, she read as they rested under the sunlit tree of the 10th division garden.

Laying on the grass on his back, Hitsugaya's palms cushion behind his head, staring up at the sky. Beside him, Hinamori's knees are brought up to rest her book on, as she leans back against the tree's wooden trunk.

Nose buried into the pages, Hinamori looks up for a tad just to peruse the person in front of her. His expression, which she can find from his side-profile, appears to be deep in thought.

Placing her book down, she follows his gaze. The sky is fresh, blue as ice, with a few willowy clouds rolling by. She decides it's not the sky he's pondering about.

"Shiro-chan, what are you thinking about?"

It takes him a split-second to return to the present, to process her words and the fact she's speaking to him. That's when his eyes travel over to her, her form with her folded elbows on her knees, awaiting his response.

"Ah." His line of sight finds her curious features looking back at him. "I don't know if you still remember him...but I was just thinking about Shiba. Shiba Isshin. Used to be Shiba-taicho."

"Ah, yeah, Shiba-taicho..." Tracing back her memory, Hinamori could picture his face—jet-black hair, the angled arch of his brows. The captain who, against rumors of being killed in combat, had actually started an entirely new life in the World of the Living by starting a family. He was Hitsugaya’s first and only captain. His first and only mentor. "I remember..."

An easy silence spreads between the two of them.

Hinamori's fingers cruise along the edge of her closed book. "...Does Shiro-chan miss him?"

A bit of a pause falls between them, before Hitsugaya releases a shallow exhale.

"Yes, sometimes I do." His lids lower marginally. 

Hitsugaya has nothing to hide. The truth lays in the fact that Isshin was the first real role model he ever had. Growing up around women, Hitsugaya never took his chosen family for granted—but in that same vein, it was also true he'd never had a father figure, nor brother figure, let alone, an exemplary male figure in his life to guide him. Perhaps his attachment to Isshin early on resulted from these circumstances, but aside from just those circumstances—Isshin was someone special.

Isshin was the type of person who others gravitated to, wanted to be around. He was funny, outgoing, iron-hearted. Sure, he was rough around the edges, didn't choose his words right sometimes, and had faults—but who didn't? Because of his faults, his authenticity prevailed that much more, and his charisma swirled into every room he walked in. His infectious joy. His hard work. His talent in breathing life into the 10th division. His ability to take it easy, and the effortlessness he had in doing it. His never-ending praise for the boy. 

The way he loved him like a son.

"He taught me a lot back then...when I was still starting out." Hitsugaya speaks with a soft cadence. "I'm grateful he did. Because when I remembered those things, the pain of missing him became easier."

Hinamori can read the quiet longing in his eyes. The reminiscence, bringing out this unseen emotion in Hitsugaya when he talks about his former captain.

She moves from her spot. Gently, she lays down in the grass beside her childhood friend.

"I'm sure sometimes...he misses you, and Rangiku-san, too."

Hitsugaya's head turns slightly, bristling against the grass to meet her eyes. Her irises are rich, full of faith, accompanied with a smile.

"Hmmm." His eyes go back up to the sky.

Taking the lessons forward...

Shiba-taicho, I wonder, if we still look up at the same sky...

Hinamori brings her palms up in front of her, into the air, fingers spread like wings, as if to touch the clouds. "Oh! Now that I think about it, we've done this before, back home. Star-gazing on that hill. Do you remember, Shiro-chan?"

Isshin's hearty voice: "If you care about someone, you need to become strong enough to protect them."

Hinamori's sweet, pure-hearted voice: "Maybe next weekend, when we go back, we'll lay down like this when it snows. And make snow angels...! I read it from a book, you know..."

Isshin's handsome, smiling face. "So, Toshiro...is there anyone...you want to protect?"

Hitsugaya sighs. He gazes softly at Hinamori as she rambles.

Shiba-taicho...wherever you are...

~~~

"How was she?"

"She was fine. She's asleep, now."

Hinamori watches as her husband makes way toward her, to the short-legged table she sits at, where the green tea she's freshly brewed awaits him.

Early winter twilight. Sundown was approaching, and the fire in the sky was barely starting to burn out underneath the horizon. 

She feels relief at his words. 

"Hmmm. Lucky for you. She makes a fuss sometimes when I feed her." Hinamori's fingers wrap snugly all along the surface of the tea cup as if to function like a mini heat pack, gathering as much warmth in her hands as she can to tolerate the cold seeping in through their glass door.

Wisping clouds of steam decorate the space funneling out from their cups. Sitting cross-legged across from her, he responds only after he's taken a sip. Of course, the only way to enjoy it is while it's fresh and hot. 

"Face it. She likes me more."

Hinamori can't help the childish grin that bursts across her mouth. "Aw, shut up."

He has a sly little smirk, too. "...Joking. She takes after you."

Hinamori lets herself contemplate this with the vestiges of a smile. She watches Hitsugaya untwist the baggie of candied beans on the table, helping himself to them. After all, they paired nicely with the robustness of the green tea.

"It's funny. For some reason, I feel it's going to be the opposite."

Both know it's still too early to determine the personality of their child. Physically, the child may take after her mother—but demeanor-wise, the little fledgling can barely lift their head, let alone crawl. Very new to the world, and only just beginning to interact with it.

"You think she'll be more like me?" He asks after popping a sugar-coated bean into his mouth.

"It already feels like it. She's quiet, she doesn't cry much...." Hinamori's gaze drifts to the side, where her mind filters through delightful observations of the darling creature. Her chin rests on her palm, supported by her elbow firmly planted into the table, pondering the wonders of her child with a warm dreaminess in her eyes. "I don't know, she just reminds me of you...when we were kids."

Hitsugaya notes her mild expression above the rim of his cup. 

"...Well, when she does cry, it's like the world is ending," he remarks, "And, she's peed her crib more times than I can count." Hinamori's eyes shift to him, with ears perked up. "So if that doesn't convince you enough she takes after her mother, I don't know what will."

A small pause where her brain catches up to her. She merely stares at him with an agape mouth. Will he ever go one part of their lives wthout being such a tease?

Face going hot, her hands come up to cover her face in shy embarrassment. "Oh, stop with the jabs, will you? I already apologized so many times! After all this time, can't we forget that happened?"

"Forget? How could anyone ever forget that?" At this point, he responds matter-of-factly, wasting no time to pick at another candied bean to place in his mouth. "It took two days for Obaa-chan and I to clean that futon. What, you don't want to tell your daughter that when she grows up?"

The heat in Hinamori's cheeks feels tingly against the cold as it returns to its normal color, her fingers coming back down to her cup. She glances up to look at him through her bangs with a self-conscious glance. "No! No way..."

He returns her attention by meeting her eyes. Teal meeting brown. He places his tea down gently, and offers that clever half-smile. "I never said it was a bad thing. To be more like you...I think that's the highest compliment anyone could have."

A different flush replaces Hinamori's cheeks. She wears it with a smile. 

"Then...I hope she gets a good mix of both of us."

A full moment passes before she moves to stand up. The sky is burning with color now.

"Come with me? I want to see her."

The young parents enter the still room reverently. Silent movements. Inside, the window's curtain lets some of the outside light seep through, painting the tatami floor with cherry and orange.

Both of them watch their child sleep in the crib. Lost in dreams, their daughter's fluffy plumage of dark hair curls delicately around her chubby cheeks, rosy and plump. Behind those shut lids are the most pigmented crystals of aquamarine. It's only for this occasion where Hinamori doesn't mind their hidden state. 

Hinamori's voice comes out in a whisper. 

"...It all went alright, huh?"

Hitsugaya's gaze is stuck on the little life in the crib, completely entranced. "...Hmm...?"

"No, better than alright...everything is perfect. So perfect...sometimes I wonder if I'm going to wake up from a dream."

I didn't know that I was capable of being happy right now

But you showed me how

On ordinary days, Hitsugaya snacks on candied beans as they drink tea after work. The assorted confection is fresh and tender, ones Hinamori buys from the market for him. And on these ordinary days, they watch the sunset from their veranda together.

For the millionth time, she can cherish the sight of Hitsugaya eating candied beans in front of her while the sun sets. To her heart's content, she can watch him as he smiles at her, teases her, drinks tea. Within some moments, if he smiles just so, he looks boyish, a telltale piece of the past. And it takes her back to those old, beautiful memories once again.

Those faded memories of youth, adolescence, which are held close to her heart, thread themselves into the present with every remembrance. Some memories of past feel more distant than others. In hindsight, it becomes apparent her life has become unrecognizable—as if every past hardship would pale in comparison to the beauty of her present.

I didn't know that you were right in front of me

Until I looked out

And now—as the sunset burns across the sky in their window, in their child's nursery—fist to her aching chest, Hinamori looks up at Hitsugaya with a flowering pool of moisture in her eyes. 

You make me wanna cry, in a good way

His soft gaze moves to find her, too. Sees her tear-filled eyes, her wobbly smile. And he responds with a purposeful whisper.

"Yes...everything went alright."