Work Text:
It always snowed when Hitsugaya Toshiro left. And he always came back.
Karin still remembers how the snowflakes touched her skin and immediately melted that hot summer evening. The night she found out who he was. Hitsugaya Toshiro. Shinigami. Captain. But all of that paled next to the memory of him surrounded by fragile snowflakes. He was beautiful.
As Toshiro walked away with his lieutenant, a chill ran down Karin's body. A couple of snowflakes stroked her cheek. That feeling of fleeting coldness on her skin was forever fixed in her mind as an association with him.
The next time they said goodbye, it was snowing too. True, it wasn't associated with Toshiro now, just a weather phenomenon. But the fact that it snowed when Hitsugaya left the World of the Living did not leave Karin alone.
And every time they met again, it snowed. Every. Single. Time.
It didn't matter if it was winter or a sweltering summer. It didn't matter what the weather was like or whether the sky was cloudy or sunny. A couple of snowflakes always touched Kurosaki's dark hair.
Karin liked to think that Toshiro had that way of saying goodbye. Because he never said "see you later" or "bye" . Usually Hitsugaya would just turn around and walk away without saying a word. And only the fragile particles of snow melting on her cheeks said goodbye to Karin instead.
Karin also liked to think that it was his way of touching her one more time. Yes, it sounds stupid and illogical. But who thinks of anything smart and logical when they're in love? Certainly not Kurosaki. So she was happy to imagine that instead of snow, it was Toshiro touching her. That instead of snowflakes tangling in her hair, it was him gently running his nose through the black strands, inhaling her scent. That instead of snowflakes prickling her cheeks, it's him touching her skin weightlessly with his fingertips. That instead of cold snowflakes melting on her lips, it was his warm lips on hers.
Karin liked to think that snowfall was his way of saying goodbye. Liked to think that snowfall was his way of touching. But Karin didn't like knowing at all that snowfall was his way of apologizing to her.
A way of saying sorry when he leaves without waving goodbye. A way to say sorry when he can't touch her the way she wants him to. A way to say sorry when he hurts her against his own wishes. When he is completely powerless and unable to even comfort her himself. That powerlessness is killing him. And that's when it starts to snow.
***
It's cold.
Karin was cold. Everywhere, everything was cold. Outside, prickly
snowflakes in her hair, frost on her eyelashes, and her body stiffened with cold. And inside, fear consumed everything. The icy terror crawled to her bones, coating her organs with frost and leaving her head empty and cold. Only stinging tears ran down her frozen cheeks and hot blood burned her hands.
Toshiro lay in her lap and died. The warmth was slowly leaving his body, making the man as cold as everything around him. Only the blood rapidly flowing from his countless wounds reminded her how warm he could be. Should be.
Toshiro reached for Karin and stroked her cheek with a shaky hand, wiping away the salty trail of tears. It was fleeting, light and cold, as if she had been touched by a snowflake rather than a living person. Still a living person.
He was trying to say something. Probably asking her not to cry. She still couldn't hear over the white noise in her ears.
Karin didn't look at him, she couldn't bring herself to. She just silently
begging him to hold on just a little longer, praying to all the gods she knew for help and trying unsuccessfully to stop the blood. The kido wasn't working. Why wouldn't the kido work?!
Karin was on the verge of hysteria. She could feel the panic squeezing her throat, clinging to her heart and filling her lungs. But she couldn't cross that thin line, not now, not when the ice was so thin. She just couldn't lose him, she so much didn't want to lose him.
Thoughts tangled into one incoherent pile. Tears covered her eyes. Her hands were cold and clammy with foreign blood. The blood of the man she loved. And her heart was slowly shattering into pieces, letting the coldness fill the chips.
Karin grabbed Toshiro's hand, as if trying to keep him here, and squeezed it tightly.
He didn't return the favor. His cold hand just hung limply in her grip.
It always snowed when Hitsugaya Toshiro left. And before, he always came back.
This time, he didn't.
