*rests a cup of takeaway hot black coffee on the floor, next to Hiyori's lap* "They called it a 'freebie'. I don't think I need an extra shot, so I'm leaving this one here." *sits next to Hiyori and quietly sips on her own coffee*
There couldn’t be a girl more different. Hiyori often thought that when she sometimes saw Nemu from her old division with her old badge. Nemu with her straight black hair, so very long and so manageable. Nemu speaking only when spoken to. Nemu walking with all the grace of a dainty raindrop, carefully sliding into corridors. Nemu with her beautiful face and marble-like beauty. Nemu… Kurotsuchi Nemuri.
…
How did Mayuri get a daughter like that? Kisuke would know, Hiyori was certain of it. Also, why did she care? It didn’t matter if Mayuri had a daughter or Akon smelled of smoke sometimes or the fact that Byakuya tried a bit too hard to copy the way his grandfather walked. These people that she knew a hundred years ago were ghosts.
Or maybe the ghost was her.
Hiyori stared at the cup of coffee and stared back at the 12th division lieutenant. She didn’t make any more conversation, she simply sat beside her. If it was the Hiyori of old, she would’ve dramatically thrown the coffee across the yard and stomped off, saying that she didn’t need any more charity, but now… her fight wasn’t with these shinigami.
“Thanks… yer nicer than Mayuri, that’s for sure. I can’t believe he’s a dad, ‘ta be honest.”
@fidelis--marianum