#!mayuri

“Heheheheh… why thank you so much, Sarugaki. It’s nice to have such a kind-hearted and generous soul in Seireitei again~!” His sarcasm was barbarically obvious.

“Don’t go sending any love-letters, though! Nemuri might get jealous. Have you seen Nemuri around, by the by?”

“Gross. I just threw up in my mouth a lil.”

Why was Mayuri such a little shit? You would think he would have learned normal interaction by now, but no. He hadn’t.

“And no, I ain’t seen Nemu... ri...”

Hiyori blinked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Hiyori, it’s just that your violent tendencies and poor attitude give mine a run for it’s money. I’m just jealously guarding it, is all.”

Hiyori hated the way Mayuri spoke. Always in that condescending tone of the little bitch he actually was. He had a few more brain cells than her and suddenly considered himself all-knowing. Her lips twisted downwards.

It appears that he had not quite forgotten Hiyori’s little gatling mad-stomps that she would often dish out on poor, unsuspecting members of her division. And of course, how she would glower at Mayuri’s sniffy responses at being trained. She had told him that he should train his hakuda more, but he had claimed that he wasn’t a barbarian like her.

A flood of memories always seemed to be thrust upon her when Mayuri came into her line of sight. Everything about him was unrecognisable from his hands, lips, hair… right down to even the way he stood - -but those knowing yellow eyes of his… they were always the same. Once they had been gloomy and morose, behind prison bars and eventually Kisuke had offered him an environment to thrive in.

He was still a nutcase, wasn’t he?

Which guy gave a gift that promised pain?‌

And yet, she was undoubtedly touched by his thoughtful gesture. Hiyori, ever wary, glanced up at him… almost as if she had been catapulted back to a hundred years ago.

She took the slippers from him, trying them on with a strangely happy expression upon her face. “Perfect fit! Hah… trust ya to know my size even after all that time!”

If she were a nice girl, she would’ve hugged him. But she wasn’t. She was Hiyori and she had always scolded him for undermining her authority so she shoved her hands in her pockets.

“You’ve picked up a lotta new tricks, heh… good ‘ta know the division is doing well under yer care.”

He was not Hikifune, but that did not matter. Her division was still… it was still passionate in their own way. She cracked a wry, tired smile. If only things could have been different.

“Thanks, Mayuri. Ya can have some cake ‘ta… take. Share it with everyone.”

Just like it had always been.

"Like ya weren't rude first! Ya called me a boy first, remember? The first time ya saw me?" She pointed out with a scoff, stacking up some ingredients in the cupboard in alphabetical order. She was not used to these new ways of working- Kirio had preferred her space to be in a little bit less of  a disarray than this so she was attempting to add some order to it.

Hiyori glances up at him and his ears. His secrets seemed a lot more mysterious than she ever could be. She was just a regular shinigami. She squinted at him then shook her head.