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hollowfyshunsuikubo · 3 months

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The Midnight Flame

A/N: More soulmate au i literally love this concept sm Izuru is one of my favourite Bleach characters, and I’ve been playing around with writing this in my spare time. This one is set pre-tybw but post fullbringer arc. I used the soul tug concept for this one, where the first touch between soulmates loosens the tug completely. Though, if your soulmate is having a hard time in any way, it can cause you pain. Only a little angst in this one >:) reader is both depressed and enraged so good luck. Once again, not Beta read

Izuru Kira x gn!reader Word count: 6.4k Warnings: angst, nsfw smut, bad language AU: Soulmates

Morning. The sunlight through the windows, the feel of a blanket covering only his legs. Morning. The arrival of another day, going to waste. Sitting up, Kira looks at his hands. Hardened from years of being a shinigami. He inspected them, turning them over, holding them up to the light that caused him to squint, searching for something that was both never and always there.

A hand reached up to grab one of his, followed by the interlocking of fingers. His heart jumped as he looked to the right, hoping, praying, needing-

And there was nothing. He was alone in his bed, as always. It got cold at night, but it was warm in the mornings. With a sigh, he got out of bed, and got ready for the day. His captain was… interesting, to say the least. A music man. He was so different from Gin, like fire and water. Gin was unpredictable, he came and went as he pleased, often leaving some form of destruction in his wake. He raged through the Gotei 13, laughing as he did. His betrayal burned, and left its scars. Third degrees ran up over Kira’s arms, his torso, his legs. It felt like the fire of it was behind his eyes. When he thought of Gin, he thought of fire, he thought of how it felt to be burning without any water to douse the flames. Captain Otorobashi was different. He was like water. He filled the spaces he entered with ease, and even when he left, droplets of his kind words or generous music remained. He flowed with what needed to be done, and he left no space untouched. Captain Otorobashi was a calming presence, one that soothed the burns that covered Kira day after day, and finally put out the fires that had enveloped his skin.

But with water came caution. Fire, at least, was direct with its deadliness. Water lulled you into a false sense of security, then drowned you as soon as you got too comfortable. Water could fill your lungs and take away your ability to scream, to speak. Water filled up any and all spaced, and could very well kill any and all within them. Kira had been burned before, and even if the flames had been cooled with sweet water, there was no telling if he’d drown.

Morning. Kira walked out of his room and greeted his squadmates. Morning. Morning. Morning. Each day was the same. Morning meetings with his Captain, who would be strumming on a guitar or reading one of those manga he enjoyed. Then training, then requests, then paperwork until sundown, then to bed. Each day is more repetitive than the last, no change in scenery, no chance to unwind at the end of the night with something other than a bottle of sake and his right hand. The same hand he thought they had grabbed, whoever they were. He would love to change his days with the feeling of someone beside him, lounging in his bed when he went back to his room, smiling and waiting for him. He would love to wake up beside someone, kisses turning into wandering hands, wandering hands that turned into being late and disheveled for his morning meeting with Captain Otorobashi. He would love to finally see his soulmate.

As he approached his Captain's office, he focused in on his heart. He felt the same familiar tug, that ever present feeling of being pulled somewhere. In a moment of hesitation, Kira paused in front of his Captains office. A lump rose in his throat, choking him as he wondered where his other half was.

–

“This could have been an afternoon job,” You groan as Shuhei drops a large stack of files on your desk. He shakes his head and tosses you a pen.

“This could be an afternoon job, but it might take all day, so it’s an all day job for you.” Shuhei was never one to beat around the bush with you. It was like talking to a printer. The same words, over and over again, hell-bent on forcing you to forget the incessant tugging you constantly felt in your heart, and the fact that you often found yourself staring out the window, hoping that your obviously internally tortured soulmate was at least doing okay. It was a painful tug, one that made your heart ache. Some days, it was so bad you couldn’t work, which brought no end of shame to Captain Muguruma and Lieutenant Hisagi. It’s not like you liked it either, as you’ve tried saying so many times. But neither of them are too impressed with you.

Recently, it’s like you’re being punished for things you can't readily control. Cramps had you taken out, despite the fact you were more than willing to throw yourself into whatever training was being offered by Captain Muguruma. Anything was better than missing another day because of some stupid pain. You were denied. You threw a plate in response.

After that, during a particularly bad day, after an apparently horrendous captains meeting, the tugging on your heart had wrenched so bad it caused you to vomit, while also praying your soulmate wasn’t a captain, least of all your captain, since some of the tugs in your heart seemed to line up with his foul moods. You didn't really think it was though. What kind of soulmate literally throws you into your room and slams the door, leaving you to choke?

Whoever your soulmate was, they were causing no end to the grief you were going through. The paperwork on your desk was looking extremely flammable. Fire seemed to be the only way you were going to calm down, since you burned with rage over just how standoffish, stubborn, and stoic your squadmates were. You were fed up. But you still took the work that you correctly deemed an afternoon job, and first thing in the morning, started your pity paperwork with a scowl.

One day, you’d meet your soulmate and be able to quell the furious tugging on your heart that sometimes left you incapacitated. One day you’d be able to sit down and do pity paperwork so fast, Captain Muguruma would have no choice but to sing your praises.

One day, you'd be appreciated for the fact that you still work hard, despite the challenges you face.

–

The nights were almost worse than the mornings. Sweat dripped down his face as he hunched over himself, holding his dick in his hand, stroking, squeezing slightly every now and then, his eyes fluttering. So often his heart hurt at night, and so often did he engage in guilty pleasures he should be saving for his soulmate. It brought him no end of guilt. He threw his head back as he began to move faster, his cock bobbing in his hands as he chased his release. He was filled with images he couldn’t even see clearly- hints of skin, another's hand, another's mouth, another's hole-

Kira gasped and groaned as he spilled over his fist, slowing his stroke to nothing. His mind was a mess, and once again, the clarity that came after hit him like a brick.

What was he doing? He could be making good use of his time, getting sleep, resting his mind, being awake enough to maybe search for his soulmate, and yet. He was awake so late, hand on his cock, a weak and pale imitation of someone who would bring him joy that surpassed an orgasm beyond belief. Face burning in shame- that fire again -he cleaned off his hand before laying down. Fire was what burned him in the first place. That traitor, the man he trusted most, the man who, like a flame, had swept across him and teased him, teased him, about who the other half of his soul was. Who showed him what it was to be strong like the flame and burn so brightly even the sun would be jealous.

He found a simple answer while reliving such a betrayal. He was afraid of having what he wanted. He was afraid of the fire of whoever matched his soul because of the burns that would follow. It was the reason he only kept Shuhei close, the reason he stayed an arms length away from everyone else, including his captain. His captain, who, like water, would soothe his burns, put out his flame, and carry him to safety if he wished. Yet water killed too, just slower. Kira lay on his back, a hand behind his head, and focused on the tug in his heart. He wondered if everyone had to go searching for that tug. Maybe his soulmate just had a simple life, without much fear or stress. Maybe his soulmate's heart was a closed book, better at hiding its anger and fear than he was.

The last thought hurt his heart. He had gone through so much- he only wished that his soulmate was alright, and that whenever they searched for their connection, their tug, that they were not angry with what they found.

–

If it were possible to be enraged at a person you’d never met, seen, spoken to, or even knew at all, you decided you were rightfully pissed at your soulmate, whoever the bastard was. Your chest felt like it was being torn open, and you hid in the gardens of your squad. You were on a late night patrol, and things were going fine.

Until.

Until whoever your soulmate was decided to have a miserable time of things. You gagged as you curled up into a ball, hiding behind a large tree. You wouldn’t be seen like this. You hated it. If you could’ve made any wish at that moment, it would be to close off the connection between your souls, if even for two minutes, just so you could at least run to your room to have privacy. With what little strength you had, You attempted to stand. Tears pricked your eyes from the sheer pain, and you felt your dinner threaten to come up.

Then a hand grasped your arm.

“You look like shit,” Shuhei said bluntly. “Why are you still out here? Go home.” With a glaring side eye, you wrenched your arm out of his grasp, stumbling back a little. He must’ve heard the gagging, or just his damned sixth sense that told him where you were at all times. He must truly despise you to keep tabs on you like this. To always know when to send you home just so he can dock your pay, save the division a little more money. It made you want to howl. It made you want to feel blood between your teeth and your zanpakuto clenched so tightly in your hands that the sheer force of your grip left bruises.

“Fuck off. I’m fine.” You spat in response. The aching in your chest only got worse. Shuhei didn’t move.

–

He was at a crossroads. He could pick you up and haul you back to your room in the barracks and force you to stay in, he could stay with you and attempt to help you ride out the waves of this pain that seemed to cause you physical harm, or he could… leave. Shuhei could listen and leave. Listen and leave, easy as that. Something not even Muguruma did. He just grunted and sent you away. Left all the work to him, and let Mashiro annoy the shit out of him while he was working…

He couldn’t leave you. You were his subordinate, and you were in pain. It seemed like you were made of pain. It hurt him, but not as much as it hurt you. You were a diligent person, and you tried so hard. Yet there was always something wrong, things you couldn’t control. Because of the pain, you turned into a being of hate. A cornered, starving dog, snarling at everyone. Sure, you joked sometimes, but your anger was a fire that scorched others. Shuhei wasn’t sure if it burned the Squad or you more.

Crossroads. He watched as you attempted to stand up straight, a hand grasping the left side of your shihakusho like you were going to rip it off. Your left hand grasping at yourself as if you could tear your soulmate bond out of your chest. In a moment of forgetfulness, Shuehi reached for you, but that flash of anger in your eyes made him stop and lower his hand. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know how to help. He couldn’t leave you, he couldn’t help you, and he couldn’t even show you that your anger was misplaced but not misunderstood. He couldn’t even be a good Lieutenant. He was grasping at nothing. So he stood tall, and just watched. He swallowed words and swallowed pity, and watched. He watched as you finally were able to stand, using the tree you were hiding behind as your crutch. He watched as you glared at him. And he listened as you spoke.

“Did you not hear me, Lieutenant? I’m fine. Fuck off.” Your voice burned with anger. He couldn’t help you, not without flames rising up his skin. But he’d been burned before. Captain Muguruma was made of fire. He burned away all the residual droplets that Tosen has left behind. Fire was a warm, comforting, protective thing when it needed to be. Just as water was not only calm and welcoming, but also a killer. Everything needed moderation. Shuhei knew that fire and water were both needed. You were burning in flames of pain, anger, and your own misery without any water to douse you in. Shuhei swallowed and finally, he spoke.

“You’re not fine. You’re hurting again and-” How like you to cut him off, riling like a dog about to strike.

“Lieutenant Hisagi,” His heart ached. Gone were the days you’d laugh and joke together, calling each other by first names. Another reminder of what had been washed away as the years had gone by. “I know you may not like me right now, but for the love of God, let me do my job.” It felt like a slap to the face. Not like you? You were his friend. Sure, you may not have been his anchor like Momo or Kira, but he still saw you as a friend. You’d begun pulling away. You’d begun to suffer alone after Tosen betrayed the Gotei, and you’d suffered more as your soulmate had begun to pull so hard your heart couldn’t take it. And you had the audacity to say that he was the one that didn’t like you. You-

“Listen,” His voice is sharp, like glass, hoping to slice your skin to make you bleed out your self-loathing. “Shut up. I am your Lieutenant. I am your superior. I am telling you to go home. I am giving you a goddamn order. Are you insubordinate?” He felt cruel. But he was at his wits end with you. There wasn’t anything he could do, and you refused to accept help, or even let him listen. You had shut yourself off and withdrew to the point where he halfway considered putting you on a watch. Yet you persisted, the pain that haunts your every waking moment, something you are determined to not let define you. It hurts him.

People had to focus to feel that tug. Everyone was a master of emotions. The fact you felt it like someone had tied a raging hollow to your heart and soul meant whoever your soulmate was was hiding a great deal of inner pain. Or they didn’t have a good grasp on their emotions. Either way, Shuhei didn’t know how to help. He could feel his tug, pulsing away, but it never hurt. Not like yours. But seeing you, an old friend, in enough pain that you are sick and weakened because of it made him despise your soulmate. It made him want to grab the offender by the throat and throttle them until they go ahold of themselves. A fire burned in your eyes as you turned his words over in your head. Shuhei kept a stern face on, despite the fact he’d directly threatened you. You wouldn’t know it, but he felt remorse for what he had to do.

–

You wanted to hit Shuhei. He looked every part the asshole as you thought he was. He’s been picking things up from Captain Muguruma, that’s for sure. Both of them are pricks. Cold, reserved, and uncaring. You could scream. You could leap forward and rip Shuhei to shreds. But instead, you glare and turn away, managing your pain for just long enough to walk to your room in the barracks, and slam the door. Someone will complain in the morning about the noise, but you don't care. You burn with fury. You lay in your bed, your anger getting the best of you for some time, until all you can do is think.

You fucked up, yet again. Every single time the burning pain from the tug in your heart gets too much, you lash out. It’s becoming the thing that is ruining your life, but only because you keep letting it. If only you could make it stop, but with what time? Finding one's soulmate took time, and time was something you didn’t have the luxury of. There were articles to edit, training to be done, rounds and commissions to complete. You couldn’t follow the tug of your heart without negativity following you as you returned. It was a cruel thing. Just like you and Shuhei have been to each other for some time now. It felt like another betrayal each time you and Shuhei butted heads. He seemed insistent on you not overworking yourself, while also sending you home whenever you showed a wince of pain. But you wanted to work. You wanted to keep doing what you loved in vain hopes the tug in your heart would lessen and finally be something you had to search for.

The night was long. Nights were always worse than the days. But you closed your eyes and ignored how the tugging in your heart, the tugging in your very soul, clogged your throat and made you choke on your own misery. Hatred pooled in your heart, but not for you soulmate. It made you sick.

–

“Someone’s in pain?” Kira blinked as Shuhei lamented. His close friend wasn’t doing well. Bags under his eyes, slouched shoulders, messier hair. It was like he’d been working overtime again.

“And they won’t listen. All I do is tell them ‘take care of yourself. Go home and rest. Take your time’ and all they do is get angry!” Shuhei ranted. He took another swig of sake and glared at nothing. Kira was getting concerned. “If I ever meet their soulmate, I’m gonna use Kazeshini and slice ‘em up.”

Kira was very uncomfortable with that notion, mainly because he’d be an accessory to murder if it happened, and whoever this person in pain was would have to live without the other half of their soul permanently. He had another sip of sake for himself, feeling sullen. He glanced at his friend again.

“How bad is it? Surely it can’t be that bad-”

“Now you even sound like them! Fucks sakes… throwing up because your tug is hurting that bad and still saying you can fight a hollow isn’t a good thing. I’m going to put them on leave just so they can find their stupid soulmate and so I can get a piece of ‘em and give them a piece of my mind… ugh.”

Kira ignored how Shuhei had interrupted him. He listened quietly, and thought about this person. They sounded strong, but tortured by pain they didn’t ask to have. He felt his own heart ache in solidarity. He wished his soulmate wasn’t in pain. Selfishly, Kira wished he could abandon everything just for a day so he could find his soulmate. Maybe then his hand would stop being his only comfort in the night hours. To finally hold them in his arms and be able to feel their skin against his as he kissed their forehead and apologized for taking so long. Shuhei had another long drink, and Kira saw this as an opportunity. He’d been feeling so restless lately, maybe a change of scenery would be a good thing.

“Why don’t I come in and help for a bit? I’m sure Captain Muguruma would understand, what with how chaotic Mashiro is, and all the work you’re putting in for the Communication…” He trailed off, anxious to hear what his friend would say. Shuhei was about to take another drink, then paused halfway. He lowered the bottle and stared at it, his expression forlorn.

“...maybe I’ll take ‘em to the printing room. That’ll raise their spirits. I’m just worried about ‘em… they’re still my friend, you know? Seeing them in pain, and hearing them accuse me of not liking them… it’s hard.”

Kira had no idea what Shuhei was on about, but concluded it must be about the person he was ranting about before. Overall, he took it as an agreement. Kira had another sip of his own sake as Shuhei starts to bawl, the bartender looking at them oddly. Shuhei started saying a name, which seemed odd to Kira, but he concluded it as the person's name. Placing a hand over his heart as he begins to drink all of his sake, Kira hopes his soulmate is alright, and not suffering in pain like Shuhei’s other friend is. He shook his head as Shuhei howled in misery, and Lieutenant Iba had to restrain him.

–

You stared at the printing press. Your mind churned, trying to find the reason behind Shuhei's current niceness. It felt like a trap. You inspected every inch of it, making sure nothing was faulty. It had been a long time since Shuhei had let you in here, mainly because of your work not being up to standard because of your pain, but today was special it seemed. One of his Lieutenant friends had come in to save the day and help out, much to Captain Muguruma’s mixed chagrin and relief. A blonde boy, who reminded you a lot of water. Smooth, quiet, seemingly weightless. Something different to the fire that had burned in your blood.

You caught Shuhei staring again and you frowned. Standing up straight, you walk over to him.

“You’re looking good, mostly. The text blocks need a little upgrading, though. The wood down the far end is looking a little shabby too. It might be time for a more modern upgrade, but other than that, everything is good. I’m surprised the platen is still going too…” You speak normally for the first time in weeks. It isn’t a complaint. It isn’t filled with suppressed rage. It isn’t said sarcastically. It’s a normal conversation. Shuhei nods and rubs the back of his neck.

“...It might be time for an upgrade, yeah…” He mutters. You can see the thoughts running through his head. For the first time in a while, you see Shuhei, and not Lieutenant Hisagi. You pause for a moment, just watching him.

You know what he’s thinking. You can see the flash of Tosen behind his eyes, thoughts of the man who was a good captain, but in reality a traitor to everything you loved. It was painful. You recalled a time when you sat with Tosen in the garden. You were new to the Soul Society then, a recently graduated Soul Reaper. You’d had a terrible day, and were sitting in the garden, trying to make sense of things. Tosen had come up to you and invited you to join him on a walk. You honestly thought he was going to berate you.

But the man had talked about nonsense for a solid hour. The weather. Ink cartridges. What wood felt best when you had to take a nap on a desk. The feeling of different winds depending on what direction they came from. Never did you think a blind man would be able to talk for so long about the things you either thought weren’t worthy of talking about, or the things you’d never thought of before. For a solid hour, he spoke, you sometimes asking questions. Before you knew it, your mood had improved. Tosen had somehow managed to make you feel better by utterly confusing you.

It was something you didn’t forget. It’s the reason why you had lashed out so aggressively when he left, your soulmate's tug becoming the source of all your pain once you’d killed as many hollows as possible. A man who had stepped out of his comfort zone to comfort a young shinigami, became almost like a father to you, one of the three greatest traitors in history. It made you scream. It was like he’d thrown you into water to drown, and when you coughed up your lungs, you set things on fire, just to feel the warmth Tosen has once provided to you.

You and Shuhei stood in silence for so long, the air became thick. When he finally looked back at you, a flash of guilt crossed his face. He cleared his throat.

“A new printing press. It’s a good idea. We’d have more time to do other things and we’d be able to…” He trailed off. So you finished his sentence for him, a flicker of your flame reigniting in your chest, hot and furious.

“Move on from the past.”

You two locked eyes. His jaw set and your eyes blazed. For a moment, it seemed like you were both going to draw your zanpakuto and fight, just to feel something other than the rage that followed a betrayal of a man you both admired and respected. A man you both knew as your calm ocean.

Then the door burst open and that blond friend of his walked in. Your tug jumped, but you ignored it. You and Shuhei snapped out of it and turned to the blonde man, who walked in. “Apologies. I’m Lieutenant Kira.” He said to you. You nodded your head in response. He was just being polite. You introduced yourself as well, making sure to be polite. You dodn’t miss how his eyes widened slightly. You frowned a little. Shuhei must’ve ran his mouth again… speaking of Shuhei, he butted in.

“Kira, what’s happening? Is everything alright?” The black haired man asked, concerned. Kira shook his head.

“Captain Muguruma is about to dissect Lieutenant Mashiro. Half the Squad is holding him back.”

You held back a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. Kira looked at you, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion for a moment before Shuhei started running out of the room.

“Stay here! That little-”

His voice faded as he ran, leaving you and Kira alone. The room was silent again, until you burst out into laughter.

The sound was beautiful to Kira. To him, it was like water falling over stones, so merry and carefree. To you, your laugh felt like a warm flame, not angry or harmful, but merry and calming. It felt like freedom. You kept on smiling even after you were done.

“One of these days, Captain Muguruma is going to kill Mashiro.” You said dryly, chuckling a little more at your own thought. “But only if Shuhei doesn’t get to her first.” Kira chuckled to himself.

“They’re like oil and water…” He said in a tone of false sorrow. He shook his head and then glanced at you. His heart was racing, and his tug felt painful for the first time. It was like time froze as Kira realized his tug was hurting. It felt like someone was ripping his heart out of his chest whenever he looked at you. He stepped away a little, not knowing what to do.

You looked at Kira again, and for the first time in a long time, you felt light. Like all your burdens had been burned away until only the embers remained. Something you usually only felt in the dead of night, an emotion of calmness and serenity you’d dubbed the ‘midnight flame’. A soft, burning sensation that soothed rather than harmed. You saw something turning behind Kira’s eyes, and the tenseness of his neck.

You recalled how Shuhei had said Kira was a bit antisocial. You’d heard of him before Tosen and the others had betrayed the Soul Society. You hadn’t met, though, due to your own schedule and the fact that Shuhei needed to be babysat while drinking, which wasn’t your favourite thing to do. Out of respect for him, you collected yourself and stepped away a little as well, looking away. Your chest felt so light. For the first time in a long time, it’s like you’re able to breathe without feeling the heavy burden of your soulmates tug. You went to speak again, maybe to break the silence, when Kira fell to his knees.

You paused for a minute, wondering if you should laugh or not. You opted to crouch down where you are and looked at Kira.

“...are you alright?” He glanced at you, his eyes filled with tears. He quickly looked away, clenching his fists over his knees as he tried to focus on anything but the pain. The tug in his chest was too much, this blistering hurt that burns him. You reached out to him, but he exhaled sharply before you could touch him. Your brow creased, and your own tug began to hurt again. An endless cycle for you, one that you couldn’t escape. Your face hardened. ‘I’ll get Lieutenant Hisagi.” A simple decision. You stood quickly and walked out of the room, searching for Shuhei.

You followed the sounds of commotion to see Shuhei and Mashiro having an argument. You were about to step in to ask when he’ll be done, when an errant hand grabed you by the neck and marched you back inside.

“Stay out of it.”

If you had to describe Captain Muguruma, you would call him a blaze. He was a wild-looking man, with the strength of a hundred regular shinigami, and an outrageous sense of style that had inspired Shuhei to get tattoos on his face, of all places. He set you down inside and checked over his shoulder to see if Mashiro was dead yet. Finding the little green girl still alive, he looked back at you.

“Whatever it is, you come to me. I’m your Captain now, not Hisagi.” Muguruma spoke with an annoyed tone in his voice, as if this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with. You recalled every time he barked at you to speed up, or told you to go home and get over it. He was perhaps the worst person who could’ve caught you when you needed help. You swallowed and put on a smile.

“I was just looking to see if it had ended yet.”

“Well, it hasn’t, so get back inside. I heard he left you at the… printing thing.”

“...the printing press?”

“That. Whatever it is, just stay there.”

“We need a more modern one.” “Lieutenant Hisagi is in charge of that. He’ll come to me when he wants one and I’ll give him the funds.” “Well I want to talk to him about what options we have.”

“From what I hear, you’ve been banned from the Communication work until your pain isn’t such a hindrance.”

You fell silent. Muguruma stared down at you with his arms crossed, radiating pure annoyance. You weren’t going to be getting any help from anyone, it looked like. Without another word, you turned away, walking back to the printing room, and a distressed Kira. Your body burned with anger at Muguruma. He only became captain because there was nobody else to take the spot, and because the Soul Society had been desperate for experienced captains. Otherwise, he’d still be rotting in the mortal realm, living his pathetic life, probably getting more piercings.

Muguruma watched you. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He was being truthful, wasn’t he? He knew you were hindered by something that could be sorted. Why didn’t you take your numerous enforced days off to find the cause of your issue and stop it? Why didn’t you thank him for at least noticing you weren’t doing okay? He looked down at the ground as he scowled. You’re probably just emotional and in pain again. He’d have to give you more space, leave you alone. Your anger was helping nobody. At least when he got angry he had time for it…

You entered the printing room again, your eyes trained on Kira. He looked a little better. He met your gaze for a moment, and you sighed.

“Lieutenant Kira is busy with Lieutenant Mashiro.” You announced. You walked forward and held out your hand, a gesture that seemed fine for time being. “Let’s get you somewhere that doesn’t house a machine.”

When he took your hand, his face pale and his palm slightly sweaty, it was like a thousand midnight doves erupt from the touch alone.

Such a feeling of fullness filled you. A flurry of soft wings enveloping your entire being, a eruption of a waterfall inside your soul that quenched all anger and pain that led you to salvation. No longer did you crave, no longer did your tug pull at your very being. Water rushed into every part of your soul, filling it with such a lightness you could've sworn at the moment it felt like you were suspended in a great sea, but no risk of drowning was present.

For Izuru, he felt warmth after the loss of such a crippling pain. Such a hearth bloomed inside him he knew that he would never feel cold during his lonely midnight again. A flame so enveloping inside his being, something so warm and right to fight for, he likened it to a Phoenix. Reborn from the ashes, no longer suffering under cool water. The water in his lung was burned away, and with it, his passion ignited. Such a small thing he felt, something he'd never felt before. Passion. What was it? The kindle burned in his chest, a fire that would never go out. He felt free.

The two of you stared at each other, before Izuru slowly stood, your hands still clasped together, your souls both finally free of searching, of tugging. He was mesmerised by you. You thought of everything you'd been through.

Fire and water were opposites, and yet no matter which element your soul reflected now, you had to make your peace.

“...I was in insurmountable pain for a very long time.” You said. A boldness ripped through you. Yet your next words- ”You should make it up to me.” -were stolen from your throat at Izuru, not quite understanding what he was doing in his new passionate delirium, pulled you forward and swept you into a tight hug. On instinct, you responded in kind.

All was silent for a few moments, before Izuru spoke again. His voice was shaky from his nervousness, but his newfound passion simmer underneath it all. He damned himself for being so shy, but this time, he was going to push himself to show you comfort.

“Never again.” His throat was hoarse. Hands once used for worry and work found their new purpose grasping you close to him. “No more pain.”

No more pain. How you'd longed for that for so long. How you'd longed for midnight under the moon where you didn't feel as if you'd lose your soul to such agony within it. How you'd longed to take it out on him, to scream and yell for the pain he'd unwittingly caused. And yet. Such a cool flow of water filled you, such a rush of comfort from his words washed over you, so much so you couldn't be mad anymore. How could you? How could you be so angry at the person whose first words to you was “never again”?

Izuru finally felt a flash of discomfort from the sudden hug he initiated. He stepped back but slid his hands to your ribs. You suppressed the urge to jump. You had ticklish ribs. He looked into your eyes before looking away, so red in the face he could barely talk anymore.

For a moment, all was still. Then, in a moment of weakness you'd never felt, a tender kind you wished to explore during softer, quieter midnights, you began to speak.

“...you're-”

With a bang, the door to the printing press room slammed open.

“I'm sick and tired of leaving you be, and ignoring the pain of someone who's one of my best seated officers-” Muguruma was yelling, but stopped. You turned your head and scowled.

That insufferable prick.

Your souls, two lost souls now joined in what would blossom into such a pure love ordained by the universe itself, were still fire and water. You two balanced each other. As Izuru found out less than ten seconds later, after you gently pulled away from him, you would need plenty of water to cool down after you had a shouting match with Captain Muguruma. It was such a sight to see that even Shuhei and Mashiro stopped fighting to come and investigate the source of your yelling. To be fair, nobody had ever seen you explode like this. Shuhei and Izuru locked eyes, and as Izuru dissolved into embarrassment, wishing he could hide away, Shuhei felt himself grinning for his friend.

It did nag in the back of Shuhei's mind on how on earth shy, quiet, water-like Kira was soulmates with the embodiment of sheer rage and hellfire.

“Opposites attract,” He murmured to himself. Mashiro giggled.

“Maybe Captain Muguruma is soulmates with me if that's the case.”

“...you're out of you goddamn mind if you think-”

Two fights broke out in the printing press room, both of which Izuru wanted to run and hide from. Yet he couldn't take his eyes off of your form, how you gestured as you and Muguruma argued loudly. He wondered if he should get you a glass of water for your throat. You were certainly yelling loud enough…

Then you drew your sword just as Muguruma did and he decided to leave it be for now.

At the very least, Izuru could provide you with water during the midnights you would steal in the future, soft kisses that were stolen in the dark, and gentle sighs turned into moans when he finally felt such a flame burn away his gentle water in his soul. Seeing you spent and satisfied brought him more satisfaction and joy than anything else. Afterwards, he always brought you a big glass.

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