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Fanfiction || Treading Icy Waters 04
Title: Treading Icy Waters
Fandom: Bleach
Main Character: Hitsugaya Toushirou
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Action/Suspense
Warnings: Occasional language, violence, gore.
Timeline: This story follows the manga's timeline. It begins directly before the Hueco Mundo arc and diverges from there.
Summary: The board has been laid out. The pieces have been set and moved. The pawns are scattered across the floor, and Ichimaru’s fingers are wrapped around a stark white bishop. “That’s another check, little taichou.” The game has only begun.
~*~
“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.”
-George Carlin
~*~
Chapter Four
Sayonara Starry Skies
~*~
Hitsugaya cursed. And he cursed again. And again. And again. And again.
Matsumoto wasn’t quite sure how she should be reacting to her taichou’s strange behavior. He had asked how long he had been out, she had answered. About five or six hours; it was early morning now. He had asked if Unohana-taichou was available, she had answered. No, but Kotetsu-fukutaichou was. He had asked if he could take a look at the wound on his back, she had answered. No, it had already been healed.
And so everything seemed to have come full circle, with Hitsugaya standing in front of a full-body mirror through which he was now staring at his brilliantly healed backside while uttering profanity after profanity under his breath.
Kotetsu Isane herself was standing in the corner of the room looking utterly distraught. Matsumoto had watched as her fellow fukutaichou had poured her heart and soul into healing the ghastly wound as best as was in her power, and Hitsugaya’s response was beginning to border on downright insane. Not to mention rude, uncalled for, irrational, and very, very unlike her taichou. In fact, it was even a little frightening. Why, in heaven’s name, would he be angry that he had been healed? It made absolutely no sense … unless he knew something that he wasn’t telling anyone else.
An image of his perplexed expression as he stared, pale and wide-eyed, at that Arrancar came back to her, and she shifted uncomfortably. He had been even more stubborn than usual when it had come to the mysterious wound. Could something really be wrong?
The thought finally provided the courage she needed to stomp over to him, grab him roughly by his bare shoulders, turn him forcefully around, and slap her hand onto his forehead. Well it wasn’t burning her hand this time around, so Kotetsu-fukutaichou’s work had certainly been effective. But it still felt rather feverish. Whatever was wrong would have to wait until he was well enough to handle it, she decided. And she would be the one to make sure that it did.
“Matsumoto…” came the deep growl from beneath her slender fingers. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like, Taichou?” she huffed as she felt her own forehead to compare the two temperatures. Yes. Definitely feverish. “You’re still nothing but an ungrateful, little kid. And your fever hasn’t died down yet. You shouldn’t be running around demanding mirrors from innocent passers by. You should be in bed.”
“You sound like my mother,” he grumbled in reply, obviously none-too-pleased by the little kid accusation, before removing her hand from his head.
“Hmph! I’m much too young and beautiful to have brought a bratty, little taichou like you into the world. Maybe when you finally grow up a bit, you’ll be able to understand that,” she grinned maliciously. Of course, she was expecting some sort of witty or aggravated counter. Something like “You’re already an old bat, so how will that change when I get older” or “I doubt a few years of extra paperwork will do much for that so-called beauty.” She was even going through different responses in her head to make sure she was ready for whatever he threw at her.
For all the retorts she had prepared however, she could never have been ready for what she actually received.
There was no counter; Hitsugaya didn’t speak a single word. Instead, he looked at her with such a pained expression that Matsumoto swore she heard her heart crack within her chest. She had seen that expression, distorted from all his attempts to hide it, once before, when Hitsugaya, looking down at Hinamori’s comatose body, had asked her whether she believed the Fifth Division’s fukutaichou would ever wake up again. Before she could find the voice to say anything about it though, she and her taichou were interrupted by a struggling Isane.
“Um… Excuse me. I’m sorry if I made a mistake in the healing. If there’s anything I can do…” she mumbled as she bowed, her tone somewhere between accusing and guilty. She must not have been able to hear what they were talking about and assumed they were discussing whatever she had done wrong to make Hitsugaya curse so.
And when the aforementioned, cursing boy seemed to notice Unohana’s fukutaichou for the first time, Matsumoto couldn’t suppress the lightest of smiles despite the situation. Hastily, he returned the bow. “No, I apologize for my rudeness, Kotetsu-fukutaichou. As is obvious, you did a wonderful job. I’m sorry if I made you believe that your competence was what troubled me. Far from it. I’m just a bit out of sorts at the moment.”
“Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou. I understand,” the tall, silver haired woman replied, spirits lifted. “You should probably take it easy today. After all, you’ve only just returned and already you’ve fought against another Arrancar.”
Then something happened that once again threw Matsumoto completely off tier. Her own amused grin was matched perfectly by her taichou as he nodded to Isane and turned to look up at her. “Matsumoto. Could you please inform the division that I’ll be taking some time for myself today? But if they really need me for something, I should be easy enough to find.”
Matsumoto nodded to show her acknowledgement. Then, she left. She didn’t know what else to do. She had seen Hitsugaya fake many, many things during their time together.
But never before had she seen him fake a smile.
~*~
Once Matsumoto had left, Hitsugaya turned back to Kotetsu, all traces of his earlier smile evaporating instantaneously. “Kotetsu-fukutaichou, I have a question.”
When she nodded, though her expression was slightly confused, he continued. “Did you get a good look at the wound?” Another nod, a large frown growing along her lips. “Have you … ever seen anything like it before?”
However confused she may have looked, she now answered as if she had expected the question all along, lifting a bent finger to her mouth to bite inbetween sentences. “No, I haven’t. It really had me worried so I sent Unohana-taichou a Hell Butterfly, but she never sent it back. After a couple of hours, your fever had gotten so bad that I finally had no choice but to go ahead with it. She still hasn’t returned. And she probably won’t for another day or two.”
Hitsugaya nodded, taking in every detail. “Do you know if Kurotsuchi-taichou is available?”
Her eyebrows furrowed at the name before she shook her head. “No, he isn’t. He and Nemu-san left just before you arrived from the living world.”
Another nod, this one accompanied by a sigh. “Alright. Thank you.”
“Hitsugaya-taichou…” she began as he started to leave, but he shook his head and she trailed off, watching him walk out the door.
This was not good. The two shinigami in all of Soul Society that just might have been able to help him were out of contact. Although it wasn’t all that surprising, as six of the ten remaining Division heads were in the same position, it was certainly vexing. Yamamoto-soutaichou may have known something simply because he’d been around for so long, but he had locked himself up in the Central 46 Chambers. That left only one person Hitsugaya could think to ask for help. And to ask that particular person, he’d half to play along with Ichimaru’s little game and leave Soul Society for earth. It seemed like an easy decision. Leave or die, for good this time.
But it wasn’t.
Leaving Soul Society now would place him on the same level as Aizen. The only difference (and the sad truth) being that even if Hitsugaya actually did harbor ill intentions, he was no real threat. And if the very implications of that weren’t bad enough, he knew at least one other thing was sure to happen.
He would lose his headship of the Tenth. And he may never get it back.
But if he was going to live to destroy Aizen and Ichimaru, especially Ichimaru, he would have to forego all pride and honor for the time being.
With that sobering thought in mind, Hitsugaya began to plan his next few steps. Ichimaru had failed to mention any information on whether time spent in Soul Society would take time away from his precious few months in the living world, so he would have to act fast. He had no time to draw out preparations and no need to either. There was only one thing he really had to do.
But there were plenty of other things he wanted to do.
And that, as if cued by the single most antagonistic director to ever walk the earth, was exactly when he saw the door to Hinamori’s room ahead of him. Slowly, meticulously, he walked toward it until he was only inches away. Twice now he had seen her since she had awakened. The first time had been hard enough to endure. The second, he had finally crossed the line. He had let all of his frustrations – his near defeat at the hands of that Espada, his allowing Inoue to fall into Aizen’s grasp, his being called back to Soul Society due to yet another failure - out on one of the few people he actually cared about in this life or the last. His hand pressed against the smooth door. He could not risk a third time.
“Sayonara … Momo,” he whispered, watching his hand slide down the door’s surface until it fell limply back to his side.
“Sweet dreams.”
~*~
When Ukitake Jyuushirou heard the soft knocking at his office door, he knew it would be a lie to say he wasn’t anxious. He had sensed Hitsugaya’s flaring reiatsu long before the boy had actually made it to his door, and he knew that whatever reason he would have in coming here, it would not be a particularly enjoyable one. Not if he wasn’t taking any measures to hold in that quaking spirit pressure.
“Come in,” the older man intoned, his voice slightly hoarse.
Hitsugaya complied, slowly opening the sliding door and inching into the room. Ukitake took notice, frown deepening, as the boy made sure to close the door behind him.
“Ukitake-taichou,” he began, his voice sounding as weary as Ukitake’s own, “I’d like to ask for a favor that I am not entirely sure I can return.”
This was it, the Thirteenth Division head sighed. “What might you need, Hitsugaya-kun? You know very well you don’t need to return anything.”
“May I…” the boy hesitated, pausing a moment before finally continuing, “…have one of your division’s Hell Butterflies?”
Ukitake was speechless. A Hell Butterfly? Why didn’t Hitsugaya just use one from his own division? It wasn’t as if they were in short supply. And what would he need one for right now anyway? The last he had heard, the boy was taking what basically amounted to a sick day today. He had certainly not issued any missions since the two Arrancar.
It took quite a while before he regained his voice. “Why would you need a Hell Butterfly from my division?”
Hitsugaya’s neutral expression flickered for a second, but he hastily turned to the side before Ukitake could identify it. “You are … the only one I can ask right now,” he answered, taking time to search for the right words. “The only one whom I can both trust … and can trust myself with … in this situation.”
The sickly taichou watched his guest a moment longer before he resigned himself to the boy’s request. No matter how strange or disconcerting Hitsugaya’s behavior was, he was sure there was good reason for it. Hitsugaya was not Aizen. He wasn’t perfect enough, and for that, Ukitake was truly grateful.
“I won’t ask anymore questions,” he intoned as he slowly got to his feet, looking purposefully down at his fellow “Shirou-chan” with a melancholy smile. “I trust you as well. I just hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Thank you, Ukitake-taichou.”
He shook his head at the thanks. “It will be waiting for you behind the Academy, the third field.”
~*~
Hitsugaya had to admit that he did feel a little relieved. He hadn’t been sure that Ukitake would consent to his abnormal request. But he couldn’t hazard taking one of his own division’s Hell Butterflies. If anyone saw him, the information would be sent straight to Matsumoto, and she would chase him around relentlessly until she knew what he was using it for. She would probably be expecting something ridiculous like a secret love message or something along those lines, but no matter what she may be expecting, he could not have her around when he left. Because she’d most definitely follow him.
As the very first rays of sunlight began to peak over the horizon and he neared the Academy, he felt a familiar reiatsu heading in his direction. Only four of the ten division heads were present in Seireitei at the moment. Kenpachi and Ukitake he knew were no where near here. That only left…
The dignified aristocrat came quickly into view, hands folded into his sleeves and white kenseikan reflecting the fledgling sunlight. His pristinely apathetic expression faced directly forward, over Hitsugaya’s head, giving the correct perception that the man did not particularly care that his fellow taichou was there at all. His posture was dangerously erect and overwhelmingly tense, as if the slightest bending of his spine would snap it in two. The boy had to wonder whether it was his reiatsu that had Kuchiki-taichou acting even more elitist than usual or whether it was something else entirely.
The two shinigami passed each other wordlessly, without even looking at each other really. But even if he didn’t say anything, Hitsugaya’s mind was mulling itself over the enigma of a taichou.
Despite his self-righteously noble exterior, Hitsugaya had been rather interested to hear how far the man had gone to protect his adopted sister, Kuchiki Rukia, from Aizen’s wrath. It had, for the first time, placed the head of the Kuchiki clan on a level that Hitsugaya could identify with. Even he had the need to protect those he most cherished; even he could not remain neutral when there was something amiss in his world. These musings had since evolved into a sort of unspoken respect for the man, outside of his rank or social status.
This respect was what finally convinced him to pause in his trek.
He turned around to face Kuchiki’s retreating back, the black six upon his haori waving slightly in the cool morning breeze. “Kuchiki-taichou,” he began, staring hard into that six, “About Abarai and Rukia…”
As soon as the names left Hitsugaya’s lips the man stopped, but he did not turn around. The white crowned taichou took this as the man’s way of telling him to go on. “They’re alive, for the moment. I thought you might appreciate the knowledge. I take full responsibility for whatever may happen to them.”
A short but meaningful silence followed before Kuchiki began walking once again. “Very well. Do as you wish,” was all he said.
But when the man’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, Hitsugaya could tell that it was enough.
~*~
Hitsugaya finally made it to the area Ukitake had indicated. The Academy was usually crowded with many young shinigami-in-training, but one particular spot, far in the corner of the third training field, was almost never used. It had once sported a fair many trees and a luscious blanket of green grass, but that had all changed when a small group of overzealous students had burnt nearly the entire field to a crisp with a bit of badly aimed hadou.
It didn’t take long for the small, ebony butterfly to flutter gracefully into his line of vision and alight upon his outstretched finger. It bore a message of two words, directly from Ukitake-taichou.
“Good luck.”
Hitsugaya sighed just a little affectionately. Luck, eh? Well, he supposed as he once again sobered himself, he was definitely going to need it.
~*~
Matsumoto stretched drowsily as she opened the door to her taichou’s office. There was no one there, as she already knew, but sometimes this was just the best place to lay back and relax. When a person enters an office with no intention to work, it just seems to make the whole place feel more welcoming. Especially that comfy couch.
For all her worrying and for all Hitsugaya’s strange behavior, in this room, nothing had changed. Nothing ever did. It was perhaps the one place in which she knew nothing ever would.
There was still quite a bit of paperwork. While her taichou had been out with his fever, someone had seen to it that their workload was increased by at least fifty percent. Hitsugaya had been here for a short while about half an hour ago, but it had been far too short a time to get started on any of the reports.
It was nice that he was finally taking a much deserved break, but honestly, he could still do at least some of the paperwork, right? Heaven knew Matsumoto wasn’t about to. And surely he knew that as well. It was against everything he stood for to come in here and not do work. If he ever did something like that, he’d groan his little groan, glare into her eyes, and declare he was turning into her. Then, he’d no doubt stomp out of the room to get some tea to calm his nerves. But he had done none of these things. He had merely sat down at the desk, scrawled something hastily onto a piece of paper, and then walked right back out without even glancing at her.
Thinking back to it, Matsumoto found herself rather curious. What had he been writing anyway? What if it was…?
Oh my.
A mischievous grin curled up the corners of her lips as she walked over to her taichou’s desk. On top of one of the stacks of paperwork was a scribbled note. She picked it up, made sure that Hitsugaya’s reiatsu was far, far away, and began reading.
It was short, to the point, and utterly devastating. Matsumoto’s pale eyes widened as she hastily read it again, just to be sure it said what she thought it said.
It did.
Jerking around, she searched frantically for Hitsugaya’s exact location. The third field behind the Academy. She dropped the note and ran out of the room, entering shunpo as soon as she was outside.
The note fluttered slowly to the hardwood floor.
“Matsumoto, I still expect all of the paperwork to be turned in on time during my absence, even without me around to constantly baby sit you.”
~*~
Hinamori Momo stirred from her sleep, woken by a vaguely familiar feeling. Rubbing her eyes and yawning softly, she stood up and slowly walked to the door of her room within the Fourth Division compound. Placing her thin, pale fingers against the door’s surface, she suddenly recognized it.
The young woman turned around to look out the window facing the Academy, her weary eyes beginning to wash over once again.
“Hitsugaya-kun…”
~*~
Ukitake-taichou watched the boy disappear through the portal from a fair distance away. A soft sigh emitted from his thinly lined lips.
About twenty yards behind him and to his left was Kuchiki-taichou’s distinct reiatsu. He could just barely see the man in the earliest morning rays, eyes focused on where Hitsugaya had been only moments before and arms folded across his chest noncommittally. So even he had succumbed to his curiosity, the old shinigami mused, looking back as his fellow taichou nodded his head once to the newly vacant area and began walking back to his own division.
Just as soon as he had left however, another reiatsu appeared as it hastily released it shunpo beside him.
“Rangiku-chan,” he managed with unbidden surprise.
“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice barely more than a whisper. The sickly taichou knew full well that she already knew the answer.
None-the-less, he looked her directly in the eye; this was not a question that he could dodge. “I'm sorry, Rangiku-chan. He’s already left.”
~*~
November 30, 4:37 AM – Hitsugaya Toushirou’s reiatsu disappears from Soul Society.
Fandom: Bleach
Main Character: Hitsugaya Toushirou
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Action/Suspense
Warnings: Occasional language, violence, gore.
Timeline: This story follows the manga's timeline. It begins directly before the Hueco Mundo arc and diverges from there.
Summary: The board has been laid out. The pieces have been set and moved. The pawns are scattered across the floor, and Ichimaru’s fingers are wrapped around a stark white bishop. “That’s another check, little taichou.” The game has only begun.
“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.”
-George Carlin
~*~
Chapter Four
Sayonara Starry Skies
~*~
Hitsugaya cursed. And he cursed again. And again. And again. And again.
Matsumoto wasn’t quite sure how she should be reacting to her taichou’s strange behavior. He had asked how long he had been out, she had answered. About five or six hours; it was early morning now. He had asked if Unohana-taichou was available, she had answered. No, but Kotetsu-fukutaichou was. He had asked if he could take a look at the wound on his back, she had answered. No, it had already been healed.
And so everything seemed to have come full circle, with Hitsugaya standing in front of a full-body mirror through which he was now staring at his brilliantly healed backside while uttering profanity after profanity under his breath.
Kotetsu Isane herself was standing in the corner of the room looking utterly distraught. Matsumoto had watched as her fellow fukutaichou had poured her heart and soul into healing the ghastly wound as best as was in her power, and Hitsugaya’s response was beginning to border on downright insane. Not to mention rude, uncalled for, irrational, and very, very unlike her taichou. In fact, it was even a little frightening. Why, in heaven’s name, would he be angry that he had been healed? It made absolutely no sense … unless he knew something that he wasn’t telling anyone else.
An image of his perplexed expression as he stared, pale and wide-eyed, at that Arrancar came back to her, and she shifted uncomfortably. He had been even more stubborn than usual when it had come to the mysterious wound. Could something really be wrong?
The thought finally provided the courage she needed to stomp over to him, grab him roughly by his bare shoulders, turn him forcefully around, and slap her hand onto his forehead. Well it wasn’t burning her hand this time around, so Kotetsu-fukutaichou’s work had certainly been effective. But it still felt rather feverish. Whatever was wrong would have to wait until he was well enough to handle it, she decided. And she would be the one to make sure that it did.
“Matsumoto…” came the deep growl from beneath her slender fingers. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like, Taichou?” she huffed as she felt her own forehead to compare the two temperatures. Yes. Definitely feverish. “You’re still nothing but an ungrateful, little kid. And your fever hasn’t died down yet. You shouldn’t be running around demanding mirrors from innocent passers by. You should be in bed.”
“You sound like my mother,” he grumbled in reply, obviously none-too-pleased by the little kid accusation, before removing her hand from his head.
“Hmph! I’m much too young and beautiful to have brought a bratty, little taichou like you into the world. Maybe when you finally grow up a bit, you’ll be able to understand that,” she grinned maliciously. Of course, she was expecting some sort of witty or aggravated counter. Something like “You’re already an old bat, so how will that change when I get older” or “I doubt a few years of extra paperwork will do much for that so-called beauty.” She was even going through different responses in her head to make sure she was ready for whatever he threw at her.
For all the retorts she had prepared however, she could never have been ready for what she actually received.
There was no counter; Hitsugaya didn’t speak a single word. Instead, he looked at her with such a pained expression that Matsumoto swore she heard her heart crack within her chest. She had seen that expression, distorted from all his attempts to hide it, once before, when Hitsugaya, looking down at Hinamori’s comatose body, had asked her whether she believed the Fifth Division’s fukutaichou would ever wake up again. Before she could find the voice to say anything about it though, she and her taichou were interrupted by a struggling Isane.
“Um… Excuse me. I’m sorry if I made a mistake in the healing. If there’s anything I can do…” she mumbled as she bowed, her tone somewhere between accusing and guilty. She must not have been able to hear what they were talking about and assumed they were discussing whatever she had done wrong to make Hitsugaya curse so.
And when the aforementioned, cursing boy seemed to notice Unohana’s fukutaichou for the first time, Matsumoto couldn’t suppress the lightest of smiles despite the situation. Hastily, he returned the bow. “No, I apologize for my rudeness, Kotetsu-fukutaichou. As is obvious, you did a wonderful job. I’m sorry if I made you believe that your competence was what troubled me. Far from it. I’m just a bit out of sorts at the moment.”
“Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou. I understand,” the tall, silver haired woman replied, spirits lifted. “You should probably take it easy today. After all, you’ve only just returned and already you’ve fought against another Arrancar.”
Then something happened that once again threw Matsumoto completely off tier. Her own amused grin was matched perfectly by her taichou as he nodded to Isane and turned to look up at her. “Matsumoto. Could you please inform the division that I’ll be taking some time for myself today? But if they really need me for something, I should be easy enough to find.”
Matsumoto nodded to show her acknowledgement. Then, she left. She didn’t know what else to do. She had seen Hitsugaya fake many, many things during their time together.
But never before had she seen him fake a smile.
Once Matsumoto had left, Hitsugaya turned back to Kotetsu, all traces of his earlier smile evaporating instantaneously. “Kotetsu-fukutaichou, I have a question.”
When she nodded, though her expression was slightly confused, he continued. “Did you get a good look at the wound?” Another nod, a large frown growing along her lips. “Have you … ever seen anything like it before?”
However confused she may have looked, she now answered as if she had expected the question all along, lifting a bent finger to her mouth to bite inbetween sentences. “No, I haven’t. It really had me worried so I sent Unohana-taichou a Hell Butterfly, but she never sent it back. After a couple of hours, your fever had gotten so bad that I finally had no choice but to go ahead with it. She still hasn’t returned. And she probably won’t for another day or two.”
Hitsugaya nodded, taking in every detail. “Do you know if Kurotsuchi-taichou is available?”
Her eyebrows furrowed at the name before she shook her head. “No, he isn’t. He and Nemu-san left just before you arrived from the living world.”
Another nod, this one accompanied by a sigh. “Alright. Thank you.”
“Hitsugaya-taichou…” she began as he started to leave, but he shook his head and she trailed off, watching him walk out the door.
This was not good. The two shinigami in all of Soul Society that just might have been able to help him were out of contact. Although it wasn’t all that surprising, as six of the ten remaining Division heads were in the same position, it was certainly vexing. Yamamoto-soutaichou may have known something simply because he’d been around for so long, but he had locked himself up in the Central 46 Chambers. That left only one person Hitsugaya could think to ask for help. And to ask that particular person, he’d half to play along with Ichimaru’s little game and leave Soul Society for earth. It seemed like an easy decision. Leave or die, for good this time.
But it wasn’t.
Leaving Soul Society now would place him on the same level as Aizen. The only difference (and the sad truth) being that even if Hitsugaya actually did harbor ill intentions, he was no real threat. And if the very implications of that weren’t bad enough, he knew at least one other thing was sure to happen.
He would lose his headship of the Tenth. And he may never get it back.
But if he was going to live to destroy Aizen and Ichimaru, especially Ichimaru, he would have to forego all pride and honor for the time being.
With that sobering thought in mind, Hitsugaya began to plan his next few steps. Ichimaru had failed to mention any information on whether time spent in Soul Society would take time away from his precious few months in the living world, so he would have to act fast. He had no time to draw out preparations and no need to either. There was only one thing he really had to do.
But there were plenty of other things he wanted to do.
And that, as if cued by the single most antagonistic director to ever walk the earth, was exactly when he saw the door to Hinamori’s room ahead of him. Slowly, meticulously, he walked toward it until he was only inches away. Twice now he had seen her since she had awakened. The first time had been hard enough to endure. The second, he had finally crossed the line. He had let all of his frustrations – his near defeat at the hands of that Espada, his allowing Inoue to fall into Aizen’s grasp, his being called back to Soul Society due to yet another failure - out on one of the few people he actually cared about in this life or the last. His hand pressed against the smooth door. He could not risk a third time.
“Sayonara … Momo,” he whispered, watching his hand slide down the door’s surface until it fell limply back to his side.
“Sweet dreams.”
When Ukitake Jyuushirou heard the soft knocking at his office door, he knew it would be a lie to say he wasn’t anxious. He had sensed Hitsugaya’s flaring reiatsu long before the boy had actually made it to his door, and he knew that whatever reason he would have in coming here, it would not be a particularly enjoyable one. Not if he wasn’t taking any measures to hold in that quaking spirit pressure.
“Come in,” the older man intoned, his voice slightly hoarse.
Hitsugaya complied, slowly opening the sliding door and inching into the room. Ukitake took notice, frown deepening, as the boy made sure to close the door behind him.
“Ukitake-taichou,” he began, his voice sounding as weary as Ukitake’s own, “I’d like to ask for a favor that I am not entirely sure I can return.”
This was it, the Thirteenth Division head sighed. “What might you need, Hitsugaya-kun? You know very well you don’t need to return anything.”
“May I…” the boy hesitated, pausing a moment before finally continuing, “…have one of your division’s Hell Butterflies?”
Ukitake was speechless. A Hell Butterfly? Why didn’t Hitsugaya just use one from his own division? It wasn’t as if they were in short supply. And what would he need one for right now anyway? The last he had heard, the boy was taking what basically amounted to a sick day today. He had certainly not issued any missions since the two Arrancar.
It took quite a while before he regained his voice. “Why would you need a Hell Butterfly from my division?”
Hitsugaya’s neutral expression flickered for a second, but he hastily turned to the side before Ukitake could identify it. “You are … the only one I can ask right now,” he answered, taking time to search for the right words. “The only one whom I can both trust … and can trust myself with … in this situation.”
The sickly taichou watched his guest a moment longer before he resigned himself to the boy’s request. No matter how strange or disconcerting Hitsugaya’s behavior was, he was sure there was good reason for it. Hitsugaya was not Aizen. He wasn’t perfect enough, and for that, Ukitake was truly grateful.
“I won’t ask anymore questions,” he intoned as he slowly got to his feet, looking purposefully down at his fellow “Shirou-chan” with a melancholy smile. “I trust you as well. I just hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Thank you, Ukitake-taichou.”
He shook his head at the thanks. “It will be waiting for you behind the Academy, the third field.”
Hitsugaya had to admit that he did feel a little relieved. He hadn’t been sure that Ukitake would consent to his abnormal request. But he couldn’t hazard taking one of his own division’s Hell Butterflies. If anyone saw him, the information would be sent straight to Matsumoto, and she would chase him around relentlessly until she knew what he was using it for. She would probably be expecting something ridiculous like a secret love message or something along those lines, but no matter what she may be expecting, he could not have her around when he left. Because she’d most definitely follow him.
As the very first rays of sunlight began to peak over the horizon and he neared the Academy, he felt a familiar reiatsu heading in his direction. Only four of the ten division heads were present in Seireitei at the moment. Kenpachi and Ukitake he knew were no where near here. That only left…
The dignified aristocrat came quickly into view, hands folded into his sleeves and white kenseikan reflecting the fledgling sunlight. His pristinely apathetic expression faced directly forward, over Hitsugaya’s head, giving the correct perception that the man did not particularly care that his fellow taichou was there at all. His posture was dangerously erect and overwhelmingly tense, as if the slightest bending of his spine would snap it in two. The boy had to wonder whether it was his reiatsu that had Kuchiki-taichou acting even more elitist than usual or whether it was something else entirely.
The two shinigami passed each other wordlessly, without even looking at each other really. But even if he didn’t say anything, Hitsugaya’s mind was mulling itself over the enigma of a taichou.
Despite his self-righteously noble exterior, Hitsugaya had been rather interested to hear how far the man had gone to protect his adopted sister, Kuchiki Rukia, from Aizen’s wrath. It had, for the first time, placed the head of the Kuchiki clan on a level that Hitsugaya could identify with. Even he had the need to protect those he most cherished; even he could not remain neutral when there was something amiss in his world. These musings had since evolved into a sort of unspoken respect for the man, outside of his rank or social status.
This respect was what finally convinced him to pause in his trek.
He turned around to face Kuchiki’s retreating back, the black six upon his haori waving slightly in the cool morning breeze. “Kuchiki-taichou,” he began, staring hard into that six, “About Abarai and Rukia…”
As soon as the names left Hitsugaya’s lips the man stopped, but he did not turn around. The white crowned taichou took this as the man’s way of telling him to go on. “They’re alive, for the moment. I thought you might appreciate the knowledge. I take full responsibility for whatever may happen to them.”
A short but meaningful silence followed before Kuchiki began walking once again. “Very well. Do as you wish,” was all he said.
But when the man’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, Hitsugaya could tell that it was enough.
Hitsugaya finally made it to the area Ukitake had indicated. The Academy was usually crowded with many young shinigami-in-training, but one particular spot, far in the corner of the third training field, was almost never used. It had once sported a fair many trees and a luscious blanket of green grass, but that had all changed when a small group of overzealous students had burnt nearly the entire field to a crisp with a bit of badly aimed hadou.
It didn’t take long for the small, ebony butterfly to flutter gracefully into his line of vision and alight upon his outstretched finger. It bore a message of two words, directly from Ukitake-taichou.
“Good luck.”
Hitsugaya sighed just a little affectionately. Luck, eh? Well, he supposed as he once again sobered himself, he was definitely going to need it.
Matsumoto stretched drowsily as she opened the door to her taichou’s office. There was no one there, as she already knew, but sometimes this was just the best place to lay back and relax. When a person enters an office with no intention to work, it just seems to make the whole place feel more welcoming. Especially that comfy couch.
For all her worrying and for all Hitsugaya’s strange behavior, in this room, nothing had changed. Nothing ever did. It was perhaps the one place in which she knew nothing ever would.
There was still quite a bit of paperwork. While her taichou had been out with his fever, someone had seen to it that their workload was increased by at least fifty percent. Hitsugaya had been here for a short while about half an hour ago, but it had been far too short a time to get started on any of the reports.
It was nice that he was finally taking a much deserved break, but honestly, he could still do at least some of the paperwork, right? Heaven knew Matsumoto wasn’t about to. And surely he knew that as well. It was against everything he stood for to come in here and not do work. If he ever did something like that, he’d groan his little groan, glare into her eyes, and declare he was turning into her. Then, he’d no doubt stomp out of the room to get some tea to calm his nerves. But he had done none of these things. He had merely sat down at the desk, scrawled something hastily onto a piece of paper, and then walked right back out without even glancing at her.
Thinking back to it, Matsumoto found herself rather curious. What had he been writing anyway? What if it was…?
Oh my.
A mischievous grin curled up the corners of her lips as she walked over to her taichou’s desk. On top of one of the stacks of paperwork was a scribbled note. She picked it up, made sure that Hitsugaya’s reiatsu was far, far away, and began reading.
It was short, to the point, and utterly devastating. Matsumoto’s pale eyes widened as she hastily read it again, just to be sure it said what she thought it said.
It did.
Jerking around, she searched frantically for Hitsugaya’s exact location. The third field behind the Academy. She dropped the note and ran out of the room, entering shunpo as soon as she was outside.
The note fluttered slowly to the hardwood floor.
“Matsumoto, I still expect all of the paperwork to be turned in on time during my absence, even without me around to constantly baby sit you.”
Hinamori Momo stirred from her sleep, woken by a vaguely familiar feeling. Rubbing her eyes and yawning softly, she stood up and slowly walked to the door of her room within the Fourth Division compound. Placing her thin, pale fingers against the door’s surface, she suddenly recognized it.
The young woman turned around to look out the window facing the Academy, her weary eyes beginning to wash over once again.
“Hitsugaya-kun…”
Ukitake-taichou watched the boy disappear through the portal from a fair distance away. A soft sigh emitted from his thinly lined lips.
About twenty yards behind him and to his left was Kuchiki-taichou’s distinct reiatsu. He could just barely see the man in the earliest morning rays, eyes focused on where Hitsugaya had been only moments before and arms folded across his chest noncommittally. So even he had succumbed to his curiosity, the old shinigami mused, looking back as his fellow taichou nodded his head once to the newly vacant area and began walking back to his own division.
Just as soon as he had left however, another reiatsu appeared as it hastily released it shunpo beside him.
“Rangiku-chan,” he managed with unbidden surprise.
“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice barely more than a whisper. The sickly taichou knew full well that she already knew the answer.
None-the-less, he looked her directly in the eye; this was not a question that he could dodge. “I'm sorry, Rangiku-chan. He’s already left.”
November 30, 4:37 AM – Hitsugaya Toushirou’s reiatsu disappears from Soul Society.