Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of Tite Kubo

i.

The pain is almost unbearable. But Hinamori is a vice-captain, and as such, the rank commands she keep her silence even as the hands of the devil himself seem to be tearing at her womb. Everything aches, from her horribly pounding head to the ripping sensations that rock her all the way to her toes, and the shocking reverberations open her bones. She clutches the linen underneath her fingers with a demanding curl of her fingers and regrets turning down the offers from both Matsumoto and Ukitake to accompany her to the medical wing.

Unohana is whispering sweet, comforting words from her position near the foot of her bed. This is a miracle, she says, a one in thousand chance; we know you'll make it through, Hinamori.

The words twist and writhe in Hinamori's ears; grow softer, rougher, deeper and she clutches onto them because they mean everything to her. This means everything to her, this pain, and she makes her mind to cherish it because for once she chose this pain and didn't have it forced upon her ungainly shoulders. Hinamori groans, the first sound from her in hours, and Unohana smiles serenely.

An hour later the pain worsens and Hinamori breaks her renewed vow of silence with a muffled scream; it hurts and she can't stand it, can't stand him, can't stand herself and all the things she's done as her life flashes before her eyes: watermelons and sunsets, fireballs and glaciers, the feel of a sword buried through her chest by the men she depended on the most but then Hinamori stops herself and the pain slightly abates as a sharp wail breaks out around her and she smiles.

Everything hurts. But as Hinamori clutches her precious bundle close with calloused fingers used to sword hilts and not the soft feel of newborn skin, she bears it because it's a good hurt.

ii.

"Hinamori Jushiro."

And as the words leave her lips she gives her babe a place in Soul Society. Hinamori, for her, and then Jushiro for so many reasons a thousand times more important that that. Maybe for his godfather, or maybe for his father, and maybe even because she's selfish enough to name him after her own longings. From beside her, Matsumoto coos as the little boy lifts his bright eyes at her and then Hinamori coos too, because both of them can tell he's going to grow up to be a charmer.

"That's a nice name." Matusmoto says decisively, and pauses glance at Hinamori slyly. It's all for show though, really, because Hinamori had made her decision while smiling and wiping the sweat off her brow barely a day ago in her hospital bed. Hinamori takes a breathe, "Rangiku, I'd like you to be godmother."

Matsumoto squeals girlishly as if she's never even considered the concept before and hadn't spent the past ten weeks begging for it. But little Jushiro, barely a day old and already a miniature copy of his stoic father, tugs hard on a loose hanging strand of her hair to convey that he's displeased with all the noise. The smile on Matsumoto's pretty face morphs immediately into a frown, and Hinamori watches amusedly from the sidelines as the two stare each other down.

Then Matsumoto starts laughing and Hinamori laughs too, and both of them are reminded that it's been a long time since that sound had sprung from either of their lips.

iii.

Time passes differently in the Soul Society. Ten years later and little Shiro-chan is barely into his toddler hood, reaching Hinamori's waist at the very tip of his spiky white hair and tottering around the fifth division headquarters. He likes climbing on Hinamori's desk and doodling on her paperwork, taking naps on the couch in the captains office, and grins broadly every time his mother brings a watermelon home. Some afternoons the two of them sit on the porch in front of the fifth division training grounds while Hinamori teaches Jushiro how to spit watermelon seeds and he tells her all about the mischief he's been up to while she was away, and they fill the hole in her heart.

The whole division loves him. Hinamori can't go a day without at least one of her subordinates telling her about a clever trick or line Jushiro came up with, and she even catches Captain Kurosaki (without his seemingly ever-present scowl) teaching him how to swing a sword. She had snatched up Jushiro with a rare glare at her captain, but both of them had caught the warm gleam in her eye and neither took her scolding to heart.

Then besides her division there's both Aunt Matsumoto and Uncle Ukitake, and the two of them are worse than the entire fifth combined.

"How's other Shiro-chan doing?" Captain Ukitake says and Hinamori smiles at the genuine fondness in his voice. The captain of the Thirteenth had been like a father to her during her pregnancy and guided her through the first few days of motherhood with a steady voice and sound advice. Both of them knew Ukitake wanted children, and Hinamori lets him dote on Jushiro constantly.

"He's doing great." She says, and giggles as Captain Ukitake pulls a veritable mountain of sweets from his sleeves. Jushiro loved candy, even if he wouldn't admit it, and Hinamori wonders if he inherited that from her. In almost everything else he takes after his father, after all, except for his gleaming brown eyes.

"That's wonderful, Momo." The silver-haired captain beams, and Hinamori scurries away before the candy and stacks of paperwork in her hands topple her over. The papers are for Matsumoto, acting leader of the captain less Tenth Division, and Hinamori curses her nostalgic heart for its upsetting aching as she thinks about him.

She has Jushiro now, and she wills herself to believe it's enough.

iv.

"I'd like to become a shinigami."

Hinamori swerves in his direction faster than she should have. The words have done nothing if not sharpen her motherly instincts, and Hinamori struggles with her base desire to hold and protect as she looks into his eyes with frantic apprehension. Her Shiro-chan is growing up and she should have noticed, should have seen the baby fat melting away as a serious child emerged. Jushiro's eyes are full of determination and she can do nothing but stand in shock as her son, her only family, makes his first unsteady steps into the world.

"I've wanted to ask you for a while now if you would allow me to enroll in the Academy," Jushiro says, earnestly, and Hinamori berates herself because what else could she have expected from his son? Jushiro's eyes are open wide with conviction and even a little eagerness to step out from under his mother's wing. For how long had she missed the signs? How many times had she written off his longing glances at the training grounds, the mission reports, her seated officers? The answer comes to her disturbingly easily.

"I'll think about it." Hinamori finally says, and her son mutters his thanks quietly. He retreats from her office with quick, determined steps. The door clicks closed a moment later and she sighs into the emptiness, while Jushiro smiles, and both of them already know he's won.

The only question is how long it'll take her to admit it.

v.

"I've heard very many good things about other Shiro-chan from his Academy teachers." Captain Ukitake says, one afternoon as the two of them sip tea and nibble on the sweet buns Hinamori had made earlier that day. She nods slowly and a little half smile curls at the edge of her lip, even as she fiddles with the tassels of her cushion and shifts uneasily from side to side. "Then I must be the only one receiving all those behavioral notices."

That catches his attention. Ukitake puts his teacup down with soft clang and leans forwards slightly; the fabric of the table they're sitting at crinkles as he puts his hand down concernedly and his brows knit together. "Has Jushiro been getting into trouble lately?"

Her son's white-haired namesake paints such a perfect picture of a concerned uncle that Hinamori laughs, a sweet, tinkling sound that shakes her tea and causes Ukitake to relax into his seat, a smile on his face. Hinamori takes a sip of tea from her cup and savors the flavor as it slides down her throat before she leans forward, her hair swaying with the movement, as if she were imparting a secret. "Not exactly. But from what I've heard from the instructors, my little Shiro-chan isn't the most open with his classmates and friends." The smile on her face fades, and its disappearance causes her to appear sad. "In fact, some of them even say Jushiro's rather cold."

There's a heavy silence, thick and syrupy as Ukitake glances at her and Hinamori peers intently into her tea. He opens his mouth several times to say something, but the words never come out, and in the end Ukitake settles for a sympathetic sigh as he watches a single tear drip and ripple into her tea. "Hinamori…"

"Captain Ukitake, I'd like to ask a favor of you." Hinamori blurt out suddenly, making direct eye contact with the man sitting across from her. Ukitake shifts wearily but nods anyway, and she takes the opportunity to continue. "I confess that there is another reason I invited you for tea today," Hinamori mumbles guiltily, but resolve immediately hardens her features. "But I know when I'm being left out of the loop, and I know there's something everyone isn't telling me."

Hinamori pauses, and Ukitake recounts that years of motherhood have gifted her with experience and skill foreign to other shinigami. Her face no longer posses the childlike roundness it did so many years ago; Hinamori has long since grown out of girlhood and become a woman. Her hands clutch tightly at the fabric of her hakama and Ukitake doesn't prod her to continue, only waits for her as a myriad of emotions fly through her eyes.

"I know Jushiro has achieved shikai." She says finally, and bits her lip as she diverts her eyes from him. Ukitake shows no surprise at this revelation and Hinamori knows that he understands, that he can tell her the truth, so she draws up the last dregs of her courage and makes eye contact with him once again. "What is the name of his zanpakuto?"

Captain Ukitake swallows slowly and doesn't look at her. "He calls it Hyōrinmaru."

vi.

It takes Jushiro one and a half years to finish the six-year training program.

"I graduated, Mom," he says when he returns, longer and leaner now, official shinigami robes clasped in his hand and Hyōrinmaru strapped across his back. His brown eyes sparkle with triumph and then maybe a hint of disappointment; he runs his hands (larger than hers but less calloused) through his white hair (still spiky, but longer so it drapes past his ears) and gives a brief sigh. "But I still didn't beat the record. They thought I might at the beginning, but some kid a couple decades back beat me out with only one year."

Her breathe catches in the back of her throat and Hinamori ignores the tremble her heart makes. "Oh? And what do you know about this kid?"

The expression he makes is half rueful, half annoyed. She finds the combination unmistakably familiar and fights down a prickling sensation gathering at the back off her eyes. "Not much. Admittedly, I didn't pay very much attention during my history classes. I've heard, though, that he went on to become a captain of the Gotei 13, so I guess it's okay, losing out to a future captain."

Hinamori can't help but smile blindly as pinpricks off water start rolling down her cheeks. Jushiro startles, alarmed, and steps closer; Hinamori takes the chance and pounces on him, her arms around his shoulders and pushing his head into her shoulder (all these years, and he's still shorter than her). "I don't care," she mutters fiercely, clutching him tighter as a few tears fall onto his hair, "I'm still so proud of you, Shiro-chan."

And Jushiro gently settles his arms around his mother's shoulders, smirks into her shoulder and whispers, "That's Hinamori now, Mom."

vii.

At last count, every division but the second, eleventh, and twelfth offers Jushiro a place in their squads. Out of his ten choices, four of them offer seated positions: the sixth, seventh, ninth, and thirteenth. Jushiro turns down Captain Ukitake's offer as soon as he receives it. Captains Byakuya and Komamura receive slightly more attention; but in the end, Jushiro settles as eleventh seat of the ninth division, under Captain Hisagi.

People ask him why, and Hinamori does too, because he's gotten offers for eighth seat, seventh seat, and even fourth seat, but Jushiro just averts his eyes mysteriously and gives a half-smirk from the corner of his mouth. It startles Hinamori and she almost understands, can see all the dots of his reasoning but can't connect them.

"I don't get him," she admits to Matusmoto as the two sip sake (hesitantly on her part) and the other woman laughs. "He's grown so big now, even if it seems like yesterday I could still hold him in my lap."

Matsumoto nods sagaciously. She's a little tipsy. So is Hinamori, for that matter, but if either of them have learned anything in the past century it's that tipsy opens all sorts of doors and brings out all kinds of wisdom. The tenth division lieutenant winks and gives her coy smile, "But that's how all boys are, right?"

Hinamori doesn't resist the pull of her lips and that sets the two of them off laughing again, even if neither of them can exactly pinpoint what they're laughing about, and eventually Hinamori just decides the best course of action is to gives up trying.

It's laughter, after all, and when happiness is scarce you learn to accept it without question.

viii.

A decade passes and Hinamori is surprised, but pleasantly so, as Jushiro climbs from eleventh to fifth then finally third seat under Captain Hisagi. She tries not to embarrass him too much among his peers with her delivered bentos and other foodstuffs; Ukitake and Matusmoto are doing a fine job at that without her, stuffing sweets, toys, and (in Matsumoto's case) clothes into his hands without so much as an explanation. At Jushiro's request Hinamori tries to explain to them that Jushiro's grown past that stage; the explaination genuinely surprises Ukitake, but Matsumoto laughs it off and declares that exactly why she has to keep doing it.

Then another year rolls around and Hinamori begins noticing things are changing.

At first, it's only the little things, like how Matsumoto complains less about paperwork and Captain Kurosaki glances her way sympathetically for no reason at all. But then Jushiro changes, and her little Shiro-chan starts withdrawing from his peers and family to spend more time alone in the far off areas of the Rukongai, and Hinamori knows something's happening. She corners Captain Hisagi one day in his office and fixes him with a look; Hisagi smiles weakly and invites her to sit down. She does, and it does nothing to make her look less formidable, so Hisagi swallows his weak smile and scratches his neck apologetically.

"Just to put it bluntly, Momo, they're looking for another captain of the Tenth Division." He says slowly, awkwardly, and looks at her as if she's a time bomb set to explode. In a way, she is; Hinamori feels her world go still and she can barely gasp out a trembling, "What?" as Hisagi puts a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat this and say we're not replacing him, because that's exactly what we're doing." Her eyes widen and Hinamori looks horrified, scared witless, so pitiful that he can't suppress a grimace. "I'm sorry, Momo."

Hinamori takes that as her cue and gathers herself together. She forces her shaking hands to remain still and takes an unsteady step towards the door of Hisagi's office. It isn't fair for her to impose her horror onto others; the tenth division needs a captain, has needed one for a long time, and Hinamori won't make others suffer because she can hardly stomach the thought. "I'm fine. Thank you, Shuuhei." She chokes out, and flees his office with all the dignity she can muster.

But that amount's unsurprisingly little because she's not fine, and there's only one person she could possibly accept as his replacement.

ix.

Hinamori wakes up one summer morning with snow gathering on her windowsill.

The people outside are all gasping in wonder and frolicking through the snow, the white painting a picturesque scene on the trees and blooming flowers. Through her window she spots a curious Yachiru making snow angels and two figure that might be Renji and Izuru embroiled in a snowball fight; a moment later and Matsumoto has joined them, hefting a snowball with ease. Hinamori shifts slightly as some unseated shinigami pass her room and their muttered conversation floats through her door, "All that snow in summer, it must be a miracle."

Miracle.

It must be a miracle.

And Hinamori laughs, laughs herself hoarse, her head thrown back and hands fisted in the sheets of the perpetually empty side of her bed as she feels an unimaginable rush of pride, adrenaline, complete ecstasy because in the back of her mind she can imagine the triumphant roar of an icy dragon and her son's wild-eyed smirk as wings sprout from his back.

A miracle.

x.

They didn't even have to make a new haori. Matsumoto had pulled out the old one, cleaned, pressed, and almost good as new, and nobody objected when she handed it to her new captain with a flourish. He had slipped it on quickly, white fabric crinkling as it settled around his shoulders, and it draped down his back like it had been tailored for him.

Hinamori recalls it was that point where she had started crying.

Now, eyes red but dry, Hinamori beams brighter than ever. He's really his father's son, Jushiro, looking stern and commanding in his flowing captain's clothes, Hyōrinmaru on his back and green sash pinned across his chest. The star and sash had been a congratulations gift from his fellow captains; Hinamori doesn't miss the subtle shock that decorates their faces when Jushiro faces all of them, and she takes pride that at least her son has her eyes. Brown eyes that dance with satisfaction as he fingers his haori, calmly accepting congratulations and compliments and Hinamori can almost feel her eyes swelling up again.

Jushiro Hinamori, her son, the new Captain of the Tenth Division.

She's the last one to congratulate him. After all of the other captains and lieutenants have gone she approaches him, eyes watering and broad smile set firmly in place, and wraps her arms around his shoulders like she's always done. "I'm so happy, Shiro-chan, so happy and proud," she murmurs in his ears and feels him gently detach himself from her,

"Not Shiro-chan, Mom," he says, and even if he's grown up with a deeper voice and broader shoulders the nickname sticks, "I'm Captain Hinamori now."

She smiles. Smiles and blinks as the tears roll in rivulets down her face, staring at her son who is just like his father, her little Shiro-chan who is just like the original, and right now she doesn't feel the seemingly ubiquitous ache in her heart because she's so happy. "Not Captain Hinamori," she says, and rubs away the tears.

"Captain Hitsugaya."

End.