SCENE - The Fourth Division intensive care unit, on a second-floor balcony. Hinamori Momo sits on a three-legged wooden stool, looking out over a small garden shadowed by two plum trees. In her right hand, she holds a white horse-hair brush. An easel stands beside her, supporting a canvas half-filled with heavy oil brushstrokes. The bottom of the canvas is obscured by her body. The form of the garden is clearly visible in the developing painting. Hinamori looks out over the garden, and a small smile touches her face. She trails the brush across a palette, mixing yellows and greens.
A soft hiss announces the opening of a shoji screen behind her.
VOICE: Um. Hinamori?
Hinamori turns, and her smile widens as she sees the face of her old friend.
HINAMORI: Shiro-chan! What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on assignment.
She doesn't stand, but waves him closer. Hinamori turns back to the canvas, dabbing spots of yellow-green to mark the spreading leaves of the larger of the two plum trees. Its branches fan across the garden, shading beds of flowers. Sheltering. Hinamori continues painting as they talk.
HITSUGAYA: I told you, Hinamori, don't call me... Ch. Anyway, Matsumoto is holding things together while I'm gone. If there are any problems, she'll contact me. But I wanted to... See how you were doing.
HINAMORI: Oh, I'm fine Shiro-chan. Unohana-taicho has been great! She says I'm all better now, but she wants to watch me for a few weeks to make sure. She got me this room. This is her private garden. Isn't it beautiful, Shiro-chan? Her quarters are just opposite from here. You can see them past the plum trees.
HITSUGAYA: And the... painting? That was her idea too?
HINAMORI: Yeah. Unohana-taichou thought it might be relaxing. She told me to paint what I feel. What do you think, Shiro-chan? Do you like it? Do you think I'm any good?
Hitsugaya stares at the canvas for only a moment before turning away, facing back toward the open shoji screens and the tatami-floored room beyond. His expression is tight and unreadable as he folds his arms across his chest. Hinamori washes her brush to clear the green paint, and then daubs an already-mixed crimson from the palette.
HITSUGAYA: It could use some work.
Hinamori's face falls. She swivels toward Hitsugaya, looking up at him with a hurt expression.
HINAMORI: You really think so, Shiro-chan? I... and I thought it was good... I keep thinking about you when I paint.
Tears creep into Hinamori's eyes. Her voice trembles, quivering with repressed pain.
HINAMORI: I wanted... I wanted you to like it, Shiro-chan. It's... it's pretty, isn't it? Why don't you...
Hitsugaya rounds on her, his voice an uncharacteristic hiss. He stabs his finger at a part of the canvas blocked by Hinamori's body, under the shade of the larger plum tree.
HITSUGAYA: What's this, Hinamori? Tell me that.
HINAMORI: It's... it's us, Shiro-chan. It's us, together. Don't you... don't you like that? Don't you want that?
Hinamori's eyes are wide with anxiety as she smiles at Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya pinches his eyes shut, and his shoulders sag ponderously. When he speaks, his voice is soft.
HITSUGAYA: You don't... You really don't see it, do you...? C'mon, Hinamori. We're going to go talk to Unohana.
Hitsugaya offers his hand to Hinamori, and she accepts it timidly. He pulls her to her feet and leads her back through the shoji screen, pulling it shut behind him. Wind blows through the garden, rattling the easel on the now-empty balcony.
The painting is still no more than half finished, but in a bed of roses beneath the spreading arms of the plum tree lie two figures. They hold each other in a tight embrace. One wears a white captain's cloak. The other is naked. A large pool of red surrounds them both.