She knew Hitsugaya well enough to know that he often said it was nothing when it was really something. Come to think of it, she did the same thing. Trying to keep others from worrying about her. It was a habit. Had she picked it up from him or he from her, or was that just the way they both were?

Either way, she didn't quite believe him. "A-are you sure?" She placed one hand on his shoulder, protectively, affectionately. He seemed alright, though, so she let it go. Her falling fingers brushed his hand.

"Hitsugaya-kun! Your hands!" She grabbed them. They were warm. Too warm. Hot, even. She put a hand to his forehead. It was beyond unusual—he was the cold one, the chilly one, the one who never needed a blanket or an extra coat. And he was burning.