I'm New! :P
Hi everybody! My friend from LJ got me into Bleach, after me always thinking, "No way, it's UBER shonen and I'll never like that." You'd think I'd have learned after Fullmetal, but no. And the INSTANT Hitsugaya was on the screen I was like, "FAVOURITE character, right there, no questions asked." I eventually began to ADORE him with Momo, because, let's be honest- they are meant to be. I mean, they were CHILDHOOD FRIENDS. In anime terms, it's like they're already married! :)
Mmmkay, enough talking. I shall deliever my contribution....... NOW! :) Please, enjoy, and let me know if my first attempt butchered this lovely pairing :)
Title: Not Anymore
Rating: K+
Genre: Romance/Drama
Warning(s): N/A
Summary: Toushirou watches her as she wrestles with a fever in her almost-coma, wishing more than anything that'd she'd be alright.
A/N: :S So, I'm not sure how long after the whole Aizen-betraying everybody thing went down, but long enough that she can regain semi-consiousness. Use your imagination! :)
Please be alright.
He’d never seen her so... still.
Quiet.
He’d never seen her chocolate hued eyes so dull, never seen her normally smiling face so broken. Her usually glistening ebony hair lay limp against the pillows, that which wasn’t plastered to her neck and forehead in a cold sweat.
Please be alright.
She shuddered again.
Toushirou peeled the sticky compress from her forehead, wringing it over the bowl and dampening it again before reapplying it to her. She was trembling, and he tucked the blankets in further to stop her movement.
“Captain!”
Her single, strangled word rang through the small room they were both in. Toushirou cringed and sat back from her, watching her with pained eyes. She was making agitated noises in the back of her throat and the compress slipped from her forehead. Toushirou leant in again to fix it.
“Toushirou! Tou-... shi-... chan!”
His teeth clenched and he shut his eyes tight, clasping her trembling, white hand in his own, hoping it would comfort her in some way.
He couldn’t help the feeling of utter betrayal and hurt deep in his gut from Momo’s conclusion that he had been the one to take Aizen’s life. That she had actually believed he would do something like that, and then try to kill him for it, with no proof or conformation.
But to see her like this hurt him far more than her little faith in him had, and even though Unohana had said he should rest, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon bed-wetter Momo’s cries.
Bed-wetter.
Please be alright.
“Don’t go! ... S-Sorry, so... sorry!” Momo screeched, her nails digging into Toushirou’s palm. He winced and opened his mouth to try and find words to soothe her, calm her. The words he couldn’t have spoken a month ago when this whole mess had first begun.
“Momo! I’m here. I won’t go. I know you’re sorry. Please, calm down,” he murmured, his usually professional voice low and meaningful. His trademark scowl had been wiped from his features, replaced only by worry for the lieutenant.
At this, her lids twitched and flickered open, her lashes clinging together with salt and tears. She gasped and tried to sit up, confused by her surroundings and situation.
“Momo! Lie down! You’re not well enough to sit up straight!” Toushirou held her shoulders and laid her down flat again, stroking her hair from her face and wringing the compress again.
“Tou- Toushirou... what’re you...?” her words were slurred and unfocused, her eyes heavy lidded and half shut.
Toushirou ignored her and placed the compress on her roasting brow once more. How she’d caught such a fever, on top of having a large stab wound through the chest he didn’t know.
“Be quiet Momo, everything’s all right now. I’m here, and I won’t leave until morning,” he promised, taking her hand again.
Her smile was small and soft, and genuine. Toushirou’s heart clenched.
Please be alright.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asked softly, her voice cracking.
Typical Momo, always worrying about others before herself.
“Just concentrate on getting better, and then I’ll get more sleep. Deal?” he smirked a little at her, and sighed as she made an odd sort of choking noise that he supposed would have been a giggle.
“No. But I’m too tired to argue, Shiro-chan...” she breathed. He smirked again.
How long had it been since she’d called him that?
“Go to sleep bed-wetter Momo,” he replied, hesitating, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The heat burned his lips and he pulled away quickly, his face flushed pink at his forwardness.
Her smile was gentle and timid, her face growing redder than it already was.
“I don’t love him...” she said. “Not anymore...”
Toushirou sighed and bit his lip hard, knowing she was delirious. Her fingers curled around his for a moment before relaxing again as she drifted back into sleep.
The room was dark all but for the flickering of the bedside candle, and the glow of one young boy’s eyes. He was often named as a child prodigy or boy genius, and most of the time, as Captain of one of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. Once upon a time, he’d been just called Shiro-chan, by a girl whom he loved, and still loved much to his displeasure, who had told him his eyes had every single shade of blue imaginable all mingled in there.
He shut those same eyes and rested his head on her side, hand still clasped in hers, her now even breathing lulling him into a calming rest.
She said she didn’t love him. Not anymore.
Toushirou sighed as Momo made the situation harder, as she so usually did. At least that was one thing that hadn’t changed when she was in this state.
As Toushirou squeezed her hand lightly, her lips curved up into a smile.
Then Momo coughed and trembled a little before relaxing once again.
The wick of the candle burned out, leaving only the glow of two cerulean eyes.
Toushirou shut them as he thought.
Please be alright.