First post, first fic
Title: Whispers
Author: cait_rose
Pairing: Just Hinamori, mentions Hitsugaya
Rating: PG-13 just cuz I wouldn't know what I could put it as
Spoilers:Final Soul Society Arc
Notes: I'm new here, (Okay, I was lurking for a while), I've never written a fic before. *deep breath* Here goes, hope you like (all the work here is awesome), please feel free to comment. :D
Please comment, actually, I beg you. I just realised I hate the ending.. thats what you get for writing in five minutes, any criticism is welcome!
Whispers
Hinamori Momo heard the whispers when she walked past them in the hallways, her hair somewhat dishevelled, and her gaunt face looking as though she had not slept for a week.
‘Poor little Hinamori, she was stabbed by her own captain’
‘I hear she’ll never be the same… Shame, she was such a good shinigami…’
Hinamori Momo felt the pitying stares sinking into her retreating back, and she wished that someone would just talk to her.
Anyone. About anything.
Even... the betrayal.
How could she heal if no one wanted to clean the wound?
Even Hitsugaya, whom she had known ever since she could remember, couldn’t talk to her properly; he always edited himself in case he mentioned Aizen.
‘I heard she loved him… she’s too young to be feeling love…’
‘Too trusting… only fools believe in love.’
Yes, she had loved him. That’s the kind of person she was - is.
Loving. Trusting. Kind.
When she looks back on it, she thinks she was foolish and naïve and she thinks that she should have seen a sign, a hint, anything. But no matter how hard she looks, she cannot see anything she hasn’t seen before.
No one had known.
No one had a clue.
Especially not her.
Out of all the scars and wounds she had gotten over the years as a shinigami, including the thin, jagged, pink scar over her heart, that was what hurt most of all: that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her his plans.
Even if she hadn’t agreed with him, she would have kept it confidential.
She loved him, and she thought he’d loved her too.
Lovers do not keep secrets from one another, she thought, tears filling her eyes as yet another of her friends looked away from her, their murmured half-truths and suspicions assailing her ears as she walked to her quarters to escape the incessant noise.
What were we? She thought, sadly, shutting her door, memories flooding her mind. Lovers do not lie.