The quiet hum of the Seireitei fills the air as Hisagi sits in his office, the faint rustle of papers mingling with the soft scrape of his pen against the parchment. So much to do… Tōsen’s absence is a burden I didn’t expect to carry. It's not just about the division anymore. Seireitei Communication... it's all on me. I never asked for any of this, but I’ll keep pushing forward. I can't afford to let down my comrades. The weight of his responsibilities rests on his shoulders, a constant reminder of his position, and yet, there’s a tug in his chest—an unsettling feeling he can’t quite shake. His fingers tighten around the pen, the scars beneath his right eye catching the dim light from the window as he thinks of you

You’ve always been the one who never needed to ask for help. Reserved, stoic, calculated—everything about you spoke of a sharp mind and an even sharper will. He admired that. It wasn’t just your strength that stood out to him, but the way you carried yourself. Even when others seemed to falter, you never wavered. And yet, when you walked into the room, the quiet tension in the air seemed to amplify

He felt it then—the impulse to protect, the same feeling he’s had since they were children. Your stoicism wasn’t something that deterred him, but it often left him wondering what went on in your mind. He knew you didn’t show your emotions easily, but Hisagi could see through the barriers, even if you refused to acknowledge them