The Words I Never Said
Ohayo! This is my first shot at writng Bleach fanfiction; I hope you like it :) R&R if possible ne?
Unohana knew his routine well.
Every night without fail, he'd come. She was always conveniently away whenever he arrived but would return after he had slipped into that particular room. She understood his wish for no one to see him and respected it.
Besides herself, only his vice captain knew of his visits. But like Unohana, Matsumoto was also careful not to pay attention to her captain's affairs and allowed him his precious privacy. The only sign that she was aware of Hitsugaya's nightly trips at all was when she would subtly take over some of his paperwork without his noticing. Or so she thought.
She knew he was grateful. Though he did not say anything, jade green eyes conveyed more thanks in one glance than he could express with words.
As it was, while it stormed outside, a very wet and soaked-through captain entered the Fourth Division quarters after the end of a long day. Unohana had hurried out with an umbrella, but the younger captain had refused politely, stating that he was drenched through already. He could not refuse the towel she had insisted on giving him though, and so entered her room tonight with a partially wet towel flung around his shoulders as his shinigami robes made puddles all over the floor.
He took his usual seat beside her bed, taking care to dry himself enough so he would not drip all over her. Reaching over, he took one of her hands and held it loosely in his grasp. His words hung within the still air, muffled slightly only by the rain outside.
"Ohayo, Hinamori."
He began every conversation with her that way. He would tell her softly of the day's events, rubbing her cold hand gently as if he could single-handedly restore warmth to her. He would inform her that everyone was waiting for her to regain consciousness and resume her shinigami duties. He would chide her to wake up, scold her a little, then beg her to open her eyes and look at him.
Now and then in rare moments of despair, his efforts would end in a blurry wetness in his eyes as he savagely wiped it away and continued urging Hinamori to awake.
But always, they came to no avail.
This night, the routine was different though.
"Hinamori, I have to leave Soul Society for a while."
She gave no sign of hearing him. He plowed on, his breath coming out in tiny clouds of fog in the cold air.
"I'll be going with Matsumoto and a group of others to find the drifter Ichigo." For a brief instant, his hand tightened on hers, loosening almost immediately. "We are going to pursue Aizen and the arankura..."
He was almost standing now, searching her face for some kind of reaction, a twitch, a sigh perhaps, anything that could assure that she heard him. When she remained still, he gritted his teeth.
It had been two weeks already. Two long weeks of endless, ceaseless waiting that seemed never to end. Unohana told him that her physical injury had been healed completely, but the mental agony she had suffered...
It's hard to tell exactly when she'll wake up, Hitsugaya-taichou.
If she woke up at all.
A crash of thunder resounded, lighting the room temporarily with a flash of blinding light. When it had disappeared, Hitsugaya was rubbing gentle circles into Hinamori's palm as he deliberated with himself matters he had never considered important when she was well and conscious. The annoying pet name, Shiro-chan...what he would give to hear it from her lips again! More than once, he blamed himself for not been able to protect her when she needed him.
And he hated himself for it. Hated himself for not coming in time, for not being able to be there for her when she needed him the most, not there to soften the harsh sting of betrayal.
But there were more important things to tend to at the present.
Now, as he reached up to caress her face with his other hand, he leant in close to her ear. He had had many regrets in his life, too many to count.
He did not want to add yet another to them.
He knew that, ever since he had met her, that she was special. As time went on and the both of them had advanced to become shinigami, he was made aware of just how important she was to him. That awareness grew as he realized exactly who Hinamori Momo was in his life and just what space she occupied in his heart.
Still, he never told her, had kept it hidden within him as he continued the farce of being just her friend when he ached inside to be so much more.
He had wanted to confess to her countless times, but his training as a captain had been too good; the words that his traitorous lips had wanted to blurt out were successfully kept back by an iron will.
And so, he had kept his silence until it was almost too late to tell her.
He was going down to earth now. And although it seemed unlikely, he might never return. Better now than never.
He gently brushed her hair back as he whispered softly the words he had never told her, words that came straight from the bottom of his heart.
"I love you, Hinamori Momo."
He paused, allowing his fingers to play with the strands of dark fringe that so contrasted his own silver hair. A small smile tugged at his lips. He'd finally said it.
"I love you, Hinamori Momo. I really do."
The rain outside had thinned to a subdued drizzling. Raindrops beat on the window outside in a steady soothing rhythm as Hitsugaya stood up and looked around vaguely. Then, he turned back to her, resignation etched into his features.
"I have to go now; we're leaving early tomorrow." His hand still held onto hers, reluctant to let it go. "Goodbye, Hinamori..."
He glanced around again as if to ascertain he was alone, then dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead, lingering there. Then, he began to release her hand...
...and stiffened.
Was it overactive imagination or was there just the slightest pressure on his palm?
"Hinamori?" No response; her hand lay limp in his. "Hinamori? Bed-wetter Momo?"
Aha! There it was; her fingers curled slightly in his grip, barely noticeable if not for the green eyes watching them intently.
Hitsugaya did not try to prevent the wide grin overtaking his face. "Hinamori! Can you hear me? Momo!"
But this time, despite his urging, the hand did not move, its owner as comatose as she was when he first entered. But he was not worried anymore. He knew, she'd be alright now. She would wake up soon.
And he would be by her side when she did, no matter at that bastard Aizen might throw in his way.
Tomorrow I leave you...
But I'll be there when you wake and look for me. This I promise you.
As he let go of her hand, he allowed his fingers to entangle with hers a final time, delay the moment just a little longer, wistful eyes saving the image of the delicate face before him into his memory...
Then he quietly exited the room, with only a single final glance behind before shutting the screen door carefully behind him, leaving only the echo of his murmured words behind him.
I love you Hinamori Momo...