Chapter Text
5+1: Five times Hiyori almost kissed Shinji
and the one time she did
the time she was drunk 1;
It was a sultry sort of night, the type that had lilting musicians plucking their instruments in the background to the free flow of sake. Voices drifted in and out of her ears, but she could barely make them out. The newly minted lieutenant of the twelfth division was thoroughly sloshed right now. She was still being congratulated by seated officers and her friends alike, but could barely recognise them. The only one that was still in her line of sight was her long time friend , Hirako Shinji. He was in conversation with someone else, always surrounded by his flurry of admirers. And why shouldn’t they? This was a captain in their midst. An easy-going one with a pretty infectious smile and a sheet of long, sunny hair. She was trailing her eyes down to the strands, the way they shifted across his shoulders, covering his neck and draping across the black of his shihakusho. It made such a pretty contrast that she was staring a bit too long and too hard at it. Unnoticed, or so she thought, she glances at him with the triumphant and secret gaze of someone who had found a treasure. He was too busy in conversation and laughter anyway, drunk from the gazes of all the others in his company to notice her. That is what she believes, heart fluttering at the way he slides his attention to her.
Shinji does that in such a strange way. As if he’s still in conversation with everyone else, but having another conversation with her alone. He raises a brow, his golden eyes glinting in amusement still, as if to say ‘like what you see, Sarugaki-San?’ . Hiyori splutters immediately and shakes her head vehemently.
Her cheeks are bright red now, hot with the embarrassment at having been caught looking . She would blame the sake. People kept buying her drinks and filling her glass without her knowledge. She was swaying even as she sat on the tatami cushion. Completely sloshed, out of her mind and starting to think rather stupid thoughts. They were obviously stupid if they involved that baldy! He was her dumb friend!!
“I ain’t carryin’ ya home if ya pass out– go easy on the drinks, brat,” he drawls. She turns to find that he has actually made his way towards her. She’s bewildered in her inebriated state. When had he managed to stand and shuffle over? The shift of his long hair spilling across her own shoulders and she inhaled a lungful of his masculine scent. It was sharp and delicious and she swallowed audibly.
“Haaa, baldy?? Ya think I can’t walk without ya?? I’m off right now!” She’s slurring her words already but her indignation is quite clear.
And just to make it clearer, she jabs her pointy elbow straight into his chest eliciting a cry of oof from Shinji. He was a champ about it though and braced himself for more of her violent jabs, although ercifully, none arrived. Just to prove her point, she stands up immediately, her world turning and making white spots dance in front of her eyes. Shit . This wasn’t an impressive move on her part. She swayed and promptly dropped like some weakling into his arms– and practically drowned in his scent.
“This ain’t exactly what I meant when I said don’t fall for me,” he’s tossing her that arrogant smirk down upon her and she finds her stomach flip-flopping due to the proximity. This was just Shinji .
Get a fuckin’ grip, it’s just baldy Shinji! She attempts to steel herself, trying to see that annoying, flat face that she has always seen and stepped on, but every time she stares back up at him, all she manages to see is that arrogant, handsome face. Objectively, he’s not quite as flat as she thought. Still has a mane of dumb hair… Her scowl deepens and she violently scrambles off him, quite literally stepping on his knee, then shoulder and hopping off him. A bit of a wobble in her step, but she’s away from the cloud of his cologne that was making her head buzz with all sorts of thoughts. Such as the way his eyes were molten liquid and his lips looked a bit warm and inviting…
“I’ll murder ya in yer sleep,” she mutters acerbically, balling her hands in her fists but not getting past three steps before promptly falling into a heap from the steps.
Shinji looks down at her, unimpressed and rolls his eyes. “A’ightt… no kicking, or I’ll seriously dump yer scrawny ass in a ditch. Then ya can explain why yer late for yer first day as lieutenant tomorrow.”
He lifts her up with no effort at all and heaves her onto his back. Despite her mulish behaviour from earlier, she does not complain and slumps against his back. He’s right, after all. Tomorrow she has to prove herself as a lieutenant- that she can handle this pressure and responsibility that Kirio has offered her. She has a lot riding on this and she can’t make her beloved captain lose face. Resigned, her arms lock around his neck and she peers over his shoulder, watching the ground wobble like the curls of Rose’s hair. She’s squinting and then, concentrates on her breathing and trying not to be sick. It’s a short journey to the lieutenant’s residence in the twelfth. If she concentrated reeeeally hard, she could ignore the sharp and delicious scent from his neck. He must dab it on the neck… she’s musing now, breathing it in and wondering if he would notice the way her nose is buried quite aptly against his throat. A space between that column of golden hair and his neck. If she turns just so… she could even kiss–
If she were sober, alarm bells would be ringing in her head right now, but instead, she’s… laughing softly. If Shinji were a man who didn’t value his afterlife, he’d even say she giggled .
“Ya smell good, baldy… like reaalllyy good…” she’s moving her lips against the skin of his neck, heat flushed cheeks against the base of his throat and the only indication Shinji gives to show his surprise is a slight pause in his step. He glances at the little blonde head poking around the shoulder and stares at her flushed face.
“… Yer really drunk, brat.” Just what was going through that round head of hers? He isn’t quite sure he wants to know. Not with her right now. Not like this. S he’s staring at him with large, luminous eyes and giving him a smile that looks like she would give him her entire world if he asks.
He thinks he should cut back on his teasing and the unknowing encouragement. She’s not quite ready for that world yet, even if she’s murmuring how good he smells against his throat.
Fortunately- or unfortunately - they arrived at her residence. Shinji missed the warmth on his back and neck as she swayed inside, still yelling drunkenly about how good he was.
that time they were fighting 2;
It was not an uncommon sight- the pair rolling around on the ground as they tussled back and forth. Another, regular afternoon. Hiyori yanking at his hair and Shinji, mercilessly tugging at her cheeks or bending her skinny arms juuust out of reach of his private parts and his precious face. No such luck as her hard little head collided beautifully with his jaw and he was seeing stars. He quickly switched their positions, pinning the wild hellcat to the ground as she hissed and spluttered.
“Oi!! Yer gonna need a good spankin’ ya naughty brat!” He snapped, feeling the sting of blood where his teeth must have caught his lip. His cheekbone was also throbbing and he glowered harder at Hiyori, who looked completely unrepentant . This little…!!
Hiyori had the audacity to smirk with pride at her handiwork. “’S what ya get for making me wait three hours for my snacks. Ya couldn’t have been in that meeting too long!” She argued, still attempting to buck herself up and flip them over. She wasn’t happy that he now had her little legs pinned as well and she was just left to flop about and glower up at him.
It was a little break from their extensive little fight too and she finally managed to catch her breath. She could see that she’d got him good this time. His immaculate hair was a complete mess, a shiner on one side of his face courtesy of her famous left hook and- - that lip. It was split a little at the side, but she was watching how his tongue reached out to wipe the beads of blood away from his lower lip. The action made her stomach flip-flop and she briefly wondered about the taste. It must be coppery. Like blood. But warm… warm and something else… he was so close to her, his face just inches from her own. If she craned her neck up, she’d be able to get a little tas–
War sirens went off in her head and she screeched those thoughts to an immediate halt.
“What the hell baldy?!! GET OFF!!” Hiyori renewed her efforts to push him off her before she could follow through with this new and dangerous train of thought.
Shinji was a friend . An annoying, vain and idiotic friend. He would be nothing more and she didn’t think these stupid thoughts of his lips, his taste and his scent were helping! He was the one person she should definitely not think about kissing!
“What’re ya so ornery about now?” Shinji muttered, then scooped her up in a foolproof Hiyori carry- basically where she was curled up like a sack of rice underneath his arms and promptly dumped her ass in the lake by the courtyard. He snerked, pulling more ugly faces where he lifted the tip of his nose and stuck more of his tongue out at her.
Hiyori looked like a drowned kitten as she screeched back up out of the water, but this time, she wasn’t quick enough to land any punches, but she did smack a fish into the back of his hair as he made a hasty exit.
She grimly placed a hand over the chest of her soaked uniform. The water had cooled her head and she felt like the worst of her symptoms were over. “This is ridiculous!”
that time he cut his hair 3;
They were cursed.
That is the long and short of the story. Betrayed by Aizen and Soul Society alike, they were forced to endure a horror that they could never prepare for. Hiyori is and always would be an exceptionally gifted shinigami. It was why her youth and temperament were often overlooked despite it causing offence to the point of almost insubordination. Her errors were pardoned because they were always overshadowed by what she could offer the fold of the noble gotei organisation. And that was- once upon a time- a great amount . Her knowledge, her skills, her innovation… And then she was cast out because she could no longer be of service to them. It hit all of her friends hard, but none so hard as her best friend. He seemed to place himself in a light of direct responsibility for their fate, just the same as Kisuke. As if he had handed the research methods of hollowfication to Aizen himself.
With the weight of everything they had lost, the guilt was crushing him. She could see it and she knew he always wanted to inflict punishment on himself.
If she were more selfish, she would have been crushed and defeated underneath her own shame, her own hollowness… and quite happily ready to capitulate to the hollow. But all she could see were her friends- her best friend - and they needed her. At least for now, she thinks. At least they still need her. And so, she gathers up the tattered remains and shambles of her former self to ensure that she is there if they wanted to use her strength again. She is only gifted at that one thing. And she only wants to use it to help her friends. She only wants to use it to chase away their darkness, but keeps getting pulled by her own.
When Shinji arrives, his curtain of magnificent hair chopped to his chin, she freezes. This… for as long as she has known him, she has followed that golden trail of hair. She can hear the collective gasps from their friends.
“What- what the hell, Shinji?” Hiyori managed to find her voice. “Did that many fuckin’ birds follow ya that ya couldn’t wash the shit off?”
Their friend offers them his usual, ambiguous grin. “It’s time for a change, I reckon. Move on with the new times. Out with the old and in with the new . I happen ‘ta want ‘ta be fashion forward in this world.”
It sounded like an excuse. Rose still sported his long curls and nobody batted– actually they did. But people stared at them regardless. No. What she thought he was doing… was something else entirely. Cutting off… the part that he really cherished the most about himself. The part he was vain about. She remembers him ditching outings to care for that mane of his and now, he’d chopped it off like it was nothing.
She felt like every time she stared at him, he looked a bit wounded. Her eyes narrowed and she muttered off to get dinner ready in a sulky fashion. She couldn’t stand to look at him right now.
Hiyori doesn’t speak to him all through dinner, stabbing at her noodles in a way that made Love give her a look… but still refuses to meet Shinji’s eyes or engage him in any conversation. Usually, she would never resist the opportunity to tease him if she saw him with a bad hair day… but this was beyond that. It was a conscious choice he has made. A choice he has made for all of them.
It’s painful to think that this is what has come down to. Her friends chopping off their identities bit by tiny bit. A shadow of their former selves and the injustice of what has happened eats her up from the inside out. Like maggots chewing on rotten flesh. She’s already sure there isn’t much of her left– but there was a little of the past glory in Shinji’s long, luxurious hair.
She immediately wipes her face with a fading yukata when she senses his reiatsu up on the rooftop of the current building they had been squatting in.
“Haa… what’s this chick doing up here at this hour? Ya need ‘ta sleep if ya wanna grow,” his words are playful, but she can tell that he wants to talk to her further because he still chooses to plop himself right next to her. He seems like he has come to a conclusion of sorts. “Don’t tell me someone as hardcore as you have been cryin’.”
His expression is soft. Concerned . And she’s once again thrown by how he can do that so easily. Show his care towards people without feeling embarrassed or awkward. Call them out on what might have stung someone’s pride– or earned him a nice punch coming from her. Except that… he isn’t thinking of himself. His patrician features are tender as they survey her. Even in this moment, when he may be in need himself… his only thought is her.
“If ya can cut yer hair alone, I can come here alone.”
“Are ya seriously mourning my hair? I ain’t dead, brat.”
“Fuck you!”
She’s whirled around, eyes narrowed as they’re quickly filling with tears and she’s not even shocked by how easily Shinji takes her into his arms. Or by how swiftly she folds into his embrace, her own hands clutching at the lapels of his yukata and tries to beat back tears.
“As if gettin’ rid of our uniforms ain’t enough ‘ta move on…. Shinji…” she’s shaking her head. “Why d’ya always gotta be the one ‘ta sacrifice the most?”
“It’s only hair,” he attempts to soothe her, drawing her into his arms and carefully wrapping the tiny girl inside them. Hiyori always managed to appear larger than she actually was when she was running about being her usual, hellion self… but he was reminded in times like these just how vulnerable she actually was. A fragility that he wanted to protect. And one of those steps was taken today. To purely let go of his former ties and live for the future and the continued existence of his new family.
Minutes seem to trickle by and the night wind starts pricking the little hairs on his exposed neck. He does miss the warmth… but as he glances down to the bundle he’s holding, he thinks it is worth it.
“Bedtime, brat. We can’t have ya turnin’ into an ice-cube around here,” he states imperiously whilst pulling at her pigtails. Before he can even walk off the rooftop and deposit her into the girl’s room, he feels a tug on his shoulder. Hiyori is looking up at him, expression still a bit tremulous- but at least it is more accepting now. She’s leaned up a little, her face close enough to make out the breathtaking sight of unshed tears in her wide, feline eyes. He can still see them and their brightness in the dark. The way her face is turned up towards him- always him - and it makes him feel some kind of way that he isn’t quite ready to acknowledge.
She’s halfway between sleep, he thinks, when she mutters the last phrase. “Ya look better with short hair. Yer face don’t look as flat.”
He’s not impressed by the compliment… but he is touched by her attempt to cheer him up. He rolls his eyes. “I’ll drop ya right here if ya make comments on my handsome face.”
She’s laughing again and his heart lifts as he hears the sound. She looks like she wants to say something else. As if she’s caught half-way between what she wants to say and what actually came out. Her face is hovering a little close to his cheek and for a strange moment, he thinks she might kiss him. She seems to deliberate on something, struggles with her usual poor arsenal of words and gives up then before patting at his short hair that came just to his earlobe.
“… I think yer right. It’s time ‘ta move on.”
She disengages from his embrace, her feline eyes lingering over his face before she takes out her own zanpakuto. He doesn’t even know why he’s surprised, watching her chop her own pigtails off until the bands tying the straw-coloured hair come undone. Her hair is wild and unkempt, moving across her face and ears in abandon quite unlike his own, tame head of hair.
She’s always been a girl of action over words.