She hesitated when Hitsugaya began to sway. Hinamori wanted to catch him, but it felt... strange. Her arms went out instinctively, but stopped before reaching him. It wasn't that she hadn't had her fair share of catching others (and being caught)—because that was often what one did in a battle. But, she realized, she had never had to catch him. He was the sturdy, steady one; too cold for his own good, but never weak.

She was glad when he caught himself, though, because she would have been horrified if she had let him fall. But like hell was she letting him get away with that. "You are sick," she said sternly. "How do you feel—achy, tired, clogged up, weak?"