A/N: This is my first story ever to be posted up on Fanfiction, so I'm sorry if it's not very good. Feel free to leave any criticism, praise, or reviews, but please don't flame me; explain what you think I could do better. I apologize for any Out of Character-ness for Hitsugaya
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Hitsugaya, or Hinamori
He hates her smile.
He sees the shadow behind her eyes, the bags underneath them, the hesitant glance, the barest turn of the lips, the sagging of her cheeks, and her eyes: tired, dull and lifeless.
He hates it all.
Her smile is tired, weary, confused, lost, and so very, very old, reflecting nothing, but radiating the barely concealed pain of someone who had been beaten down by life at its worst, and doesn't have the strength to get up. And he hates it. It shouldn't belong to someone like her. It hurts to think of happy, young Hinamori because all he can see now is this pale imitation of what once could even bring a smile from a grouchy, reluctant nobody.
This smile is fake and a mockery, much like her world must be now.
He sighs because he remembers when her world used to be a little cottage on the outskirts of the 1st district with just him, her, and granny. It was simple, easy, carefree, and she was happy- he thinks she was, for how could anyone smile that annoying smile as much as she did if she wasn't? She smiled in everything she did, whether she was out scavenging for food, reading her ridiculous romance books, climbing the peach trees in the back, or whatever else she did in her free time. Sometimes, she would even smile when she was furious or hysterical, a somewhat scary sight, with the waterworks streaming down her eyes.
He even asked her why one day, why she always smiled, because he didn't get it; surely, she couldn't be that happy all the time. She just gave him serene smile (damnit, she did it again), and told him,
"Why Shiro-chan, Do I really need a reason to smile?"
He never asked her again.
In time, he learned that her constant smiling was just another part of her somewhat crazy personality, like her amazing ability to burst into tears from a sad story ,but stand up to local bullies twice her size, her never-ending chatter about random things like the funny clouds in the sky, how she ended up listening and empathizing with every story from complete strangers, or her stupid nicknames like Shiro-chan, (because damn it, he was not small or cute, and that nickname was an insult).
But he got used to Shiro-chan, even if he didn't like it. He learned to like her smiles too, even if he would never admit it to her. Sometimes he would drown out Hinamori's voice, admittedly, sort of hard to do, and just stare at her. It was interesting to him, because as he soon came to realize, Hinamori didn't just have one smile, she had many. She had her basic smile, the one she used to greet strangers and if nothing else was happening, the tiny smile with with the apologetic glint in her eyes she used to say sorry with, the starry-eyed smile of fascisnation or admiration, the sly curve she used to wheedle things out of him or get him to do something, the wide smile she gave him when he eventually gave in, the weak smile she used to try and cover up her tears, and her smile of euphoria, the one where it looked like her head would explode from the intensity of her smile. He thought that although her smile she used to cover up her tears was interesting, he personally thought that her happy, mega-watt smile was the best for her.
Honestly, she didn't need to talk so much back then. Her smile and eyes told you everything before the first word left her mouth. Her eyes in particular were always bright, bright with feeling and raw emotions with that extra glint of something more to them. Feelings that made her so...
Hinamori ...
And now, he can't see them at all. Part of him inside is screaming, "How, how did it end up like this?"
He doesn't need to answer; her betrayed eyes tell the entire story.
In short, she started living in a new world, a world with new characters and heroes, places ,and slowly, but surely, left the little house in Rukongai far behind. And him, he faded into the background, to be replaced by new friends and him. She was living her dream, becoming a shinigami, helping others, and serving under her perfect captain, and he almost misses the part he once had in it.
She was living her dream, until it turned into a nightmare when her hero turned into a villan and she was left for dead. He never, ever wants to- no will, see that sight again, the sight of Hinamori pale, glassy-eyed, and drenched in her own blood. No, the next time he sees Aizen, he will not fail again. In the end, he recieved a wound just almost as bad as Hinamori's. If he practices too hard, the scar twitches a little, and each little twitch reminds him of the cost of his failure to protect her, and trains harder, because he will not pay that price again. The price she paid this time almost killed her, in the body and in her mind as she watched her perfect world crack and crumble to pieces by his katana, like the broken glass of dropped glasses, with each shard of betrayal cutting into her and leaving a scar.
He sees her smiling at him now with her dejected eyes and empty smile, a blatant scar of her soul on her face, and feels something in him constrict.
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He hates her smile because it is broken, and he cannot fix it.
A short, angsty little fic about the betrayal and relationship between Hinamori and Hitsugaya, two of my absolute favorite Bleach characters. To clear things up about Hitsugaya's iffy-ness, the way I see it, he tries not to be so emotional, so I put him in denial a little in the story, but he really does care about Hinamori. It's not really meant to be hitsuxhina, but if you squint you might be able to see some. Overall, I don't think it's perfect, but it turned out well, and I hope you guys liked it.