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Fanfiction || Treading Icy Waters 07
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.
~*~
“Time rolls on
Wipe these eyes
Yesterday laughs
Tomorrow cries”
-Can’t Repeat, The Offspring
~*~
Chapter Seven
Falling Up and Getting Down
~*~
Hitsugaya tried his hardest to stare solely at the book propped in front of his face and ignore the thing as it watched him hesitantly from behind a bookshelf. Despite the fact that the little thing seemed to be scared out of its wits by every single movement he perpetrated, it was aggravatingly insistent on following him around everywhere he went.
This habit was making it very hard for him to concentrate on the numerous dusty volumes stacked beside him, piled even higher than his own contemptible 4’4”.
After Tatsuki had finished with him and explanations had been shared on both sides, Kurosaki had decided it would be best if he took Rukia home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, there was a slight snag in his plans, an unexpected guest. “Nell” he had called it, Hitsugaya recalled disdainfully.
It obviously couldn’t go home with Kurosaki; it would not have been fun to try and explain that one to such an insane father as Hitsugaya knew Kurosaki Isshin was even after only seeing the man twice. None of the other students could take it either, although Inoue had volunteered. School would begin again tomorrow, and she would be unable to watch it for most of the day. Abarai was instantly crossed off the list, no explanation needed there. Both Shihouin and Urahara maintained that they had business to take care of now that there was no more need to watch the gateway.
And so, by process of elimination, babysitting duty had fallen upon him.
The sound of light shuffling told him it had moved, and he finally lowered the book. It was practically shaking as it inched closer and closer to him, leaving the cover of the bookshelf behind it. Sighing grouchily, he let it take a few more baby steps before finally asking, “What?”
It gulped as it looked up at him, big gray-brown eyes enhancing the pout prominent upon its lips. His question seemed to prompt a sudden courage in it, even though it still looked like it would rather run back behind the shelf.
“You’re weird.”
Hitsugaya was utterly taken aback by the bluntness of the statement. That thing had just called him weird?
“You smell like home,” it continued, pout growing in size. “But you smell like a shinigami too.” And now he smelled. “Ichigo smells like that.”
“Does he?” Hitsugaya just barely managed, lowering the book another inch or so. Despite his better judgment, he had to admit the declaration interested him.
“I like Ichigo.” Hitsugaya watched, perplexed, as it took a deep breath, standing up as tall as it could and thrusting its stomach forward. “I like you too.”
His book finally hit the floor.
“Shinigami are scary and mean and like to kill us and suck our blood!” it began to run off on a tangent, not shaking quite so much any longer, as Hitsugaya’s eyes widening with that last particular accusation. “But you and Ichigo aren’t like that! You both could use some serious anger management, but you’re not evil! And you’re funny! So I like you.”
Silence.
“Do you like Nell?”
Letting out another sigh, he frowned, looking right into its eyes which were just below his own eyelevel with him sitting in this chair. “I suppose … you’re not as bad … as some of the others,” he muttered, not quite sure what he was supposed to say in such a situation.
And although he was fairly sure that if he had said that to anyone else it would have been offending, when she heard him her pout evolved into a large grin and she jumped onto his lap, curling up and making herself comfortable like some sort of cat.
With a small snort, he turned away from her to look up at the ceiling.
He wondered if Matsumoto was faring any better than he was.
~*~
Matsumoto Rangiku lifted her head up wearily from her desk to stare at the Hell Butterfly that had just flown in through the open window. She didn’t even bother to lift a hand for it to land on. She merely watched through half-closed lids as it fluttered before her nose, then perched upon her shoulder.
“Kurotsuchi-taichou and Kyouraku-taichou have arrived. Yamamoto-soutaichou requests a second briefing within the hour.”
“Really now? Well, you can just tell Yamamoto-soutaichou to go stick his briefing up his ass,” the frustrated fukutaichou snarled, tossing aside a stack of unfinished paperwork that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to even doodle on. The butterfly shifted its ebony wings for a moment as if in contemplation, before it took off. It was another second or two before realization dawned on Rangiku’s features like a ton of unforgiving bricks and she leapt from her chair, tossing herself halfway out the window in order to snag the insect in mid-flight.
“No, no. I’m sorry. Please, forget you ever heard that,” she groaned, her twitching brow bearing an uncanny resemblance to a certain MIA taichou. “Just … I’ll be there,” she finally sighed, defeated, letting the butterfly go once again.
Grumbling various unpleasant things under her breath, she marched out of the office, passing a very concerned Tenth Division third seat, Hideyoshi Kazuki, along the way. “Ah! Matsumoto-san!” he called, running after her. “Is it another briefing then?”
Rangiku didn’t answer, but she knew Kazuki well enough to realize that the grim pout she wore was even more answer than was needed. He sighed as he fell into step beside her, self-consciously itching the back of his neck. “Well…” he trailed off momentarily before continuing, “Yamamoto-soutaichou probably won’t be very pleased with it, but … if it would help … I could take your place. Ne, Matsumoto-san?”
Tenth Division’s fukutaichou froze at the suggestion, her back to the sheepish third seat. For a second, he wondered if he had said something wrong, then she turned around.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she flung her arms around him in a giant bear hug. Unfortunately, he wasn’t Hitsugaya, and so Matsumoto’s heavenly assets only succeeded in knocking the air from his lungs, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased none-the-less. “Thank you, Kazuki-kun!” she sobbed dramatically as she released him.
“N-No problem,” he stuttered, a large, toothy grin threatening to overwhelm him as he watched his fukutaichou head for the division’s courtyard. But slowly, surely, the farther she walked, the more the giddiness faded. He took a deep breath, then let it go as he turned around and headed silently to First Division’s headquarters.
That courtyard was where Hitsugaya-taichou had always wandered off to when he had needed time to himself.
And time to herself was definitely what she needed, Matsumoto pouted as she came to a stop. Lifting her palm to her forehead, she let it slide backward and snag her bangs, pulling the marigold-hued strands from her eyes. Before her stood the Tenth Division’s prized fountain, Narcissus insignia and all. Vaguely she wondered who could have had the gall to choose a flower called the Narcissus as an emblem that represented everything he (or she) stood for. But then she gave up on trying to distract herself.
First Gin, now Hitsugaya. She had given her loyalties to each in turn; and each in turn had left her here alone.
What was she exactly? Was she some kind of natural taichou repellent? Was it her personality? Was she just that sort of person? Could it be her chronic bad sleeping habits? Her breath? She could change all of that if that was all it took!
…
It was the boobs, wasn’t it?
Rangiku let her legs give way beneath her to sit down on the ring of the fountain, surprised that she couldn’t even laugh at her own jokes.
Maybe she was just too stupid to understand the reason.
She never really knew what she had been expecting the after life to be like, but she was sure this wasn’t it.
Just as she began contemplating dunking her head into the crystal clear water, yet another Hell Butterfly alighted next to her. What now?!
“Matsumoto-fukutaichou! Hinamori-fukutaichou is at it again! I don’t know who else to call!”
Rangiku pouted animatedly before jumping to her feet, fists clenched with solemn decision. Without even responding, she hastily made her way to Fourth Division, running as fast as she could without stepping into shunpo. Taking a quick short cut, she made it in record time. She barged in to a fair many complaints and hastened her pace toward Hinamori’s room. The door was wide open, but she couldn’t see in due to the many other shinigami crowding around in panic.
“Matsumoto-fukutaichou!” the voice from the Hell Butterfly wailed thankfully. Said shinigami whirled around to face a reasonably small, scrawny, and fretting Yamada Hanatarou.
“Hana-kun!” She had come to know the quiet, frantic, Fourth Division shinigami well since Hitsugaya had run off. Despite what his personality tended to project, he was skilled at what he did, a quality of which Unohana-taichou was obviously aware considering his assignment to Kuchiki Rukia and now to Hinamori Momo. This sort of thing wasn’t exactly his most professional area of expertise, however, and he was looking even more distraught than usual. “How is-” she began but was cut off by a shrill, desperate scream.
“Where is he?! Where did you take him?! Where is Hitsugaya-kun?!”
“Hinamori-san! Calm down! We’ve already told you; we haven’t taken him anywhere!”
“Then where is he?! I want to see Hitsugaya-kun!”
“We don’t know where he is!”
“Liar!” Hinamori shrieked as Matsumoto shoved her way into the room, Hanatarou peeking out from behind her. Two shinigami were attempting to hold the rampaging ex-fukutaichou back as she reached out a threatening hand toward a third who was the one trying, and failing miserably, to reason with her. Her usually docile brown eyes were wide and wild, salty tears spewing as she struggled. Whatever health she had gained since she had wakened from her coma, these fits of hers were quickly draining it.
For just a moment, Rangiku wondered how Hitsugaya would have felt, seeing Hinamori like this. Would he have been guilt-ridden with the notion that he was failing Hinamori yet again? Or would a small part of him have felt a morbid satisfaction that, despite all of Aizen’s twisted rearing, he could still engender such a reaction within her?
“Hinamori-san, please! I’m telling the truth!”
“Liar!” she repeated hysterically, beginning to claw furiously at the arms of her captors. “You all took him away, didn’t you?! It’s because he listened to me, isn’t it?! He told you he wanted to help Aizen-taichou for me, and you took him away!”
A resounding slap stung the very air, and Hinamori was instantly silenced as Matsumoto withdrew her hand from her soggy cheek. “How dare you even think that!” Rangiku didn’t know whether the grief-stricken girl’s words were prompted through desperate hysterics or whether she really believed them to be true. Either way, each and every word Hinamori had just uttered had struck nerve after nerve until she could no longer stand to listen. “How dare you assume that you’re the only one who’s worried!”
“M-Matsumoto-san…” came the frail whimper as Hinamori stopped struggling. “Matsumoto-san…” Her voice cracked as her wild, brown eyes scrunched tightly closed and the individual tears gave way to streams. “He can’t have left. He can’t have. There’s no way. He’d never leave me on his own. Even if he had a reason. Even if he had a reason! He’d never-!”
One of the shinigami, seizing on the fact that Hinamori had paused in her attacks, reached into the satchel hanging from his shoulder. Matsumoto distinctly saw Momo’s eye waver toward the needle he pulled out despite her tantrum. She wasn’t surprised. Even Hinamori was aware of how they were going to deal with her. This was not the first time she had done this. What did surprise her was when the suspended fukutaichou turned hastily to face her, eyes still shining with moisture and holding a desperate vigil about them.
“Matsumoto-san… You should know better than anyone, right? You’re his fukutaichou. You’re supposed to understand, right? Then, tell me. Where is Hitsugaya-kun?”
The questions had a strange impact on Rangiku. She had been ready to slap her again, despite Hanatarou’s worried hovering, but she didn’t. Her expression lost most of its animosity, yet it remained deathly serious, slightly reminiscent of the one she had held as she had handed the aggrieved Fifth Division fukutaichou Aizen’s letter through metal bars.
“I honestly don’t know. But I have an idea. And I promise you I will find him, and I will bring him back.”
The flow of tears stemmed as Hinamori continued to stare into Matsumoto’s pale, hardened eyes. “Matsumoto-san … I …”
Rangiku never heard the rest, as the needle had already punctured the skin and Hinamori fell into sleep mid-sentence. She watched rather numbly as the three shinigami shuffled her to her bed and Hanatarou hastened to heal the numerous scratch marks adorning them all.
They were just lucky that she had been too distressed to use kidou.
~*~
Matsumoto stared at the paperwork piled on the desk in front of her. She wasn’t exactly sure when this had become a staring contest, but it had. And despite the fact that the endless stacks of paper had no eyes to stare with, she seemed to be losing. Badly.
There was just something about the way the paperwork sat there, completely untouched and obscuring her view of her taichou’s desk, that made her want to throw it to the floor and rip all of it to shreds. Then barbeque the shreds and toss the ashes into Hueco Mundo.
Allowing them to meet any other fate seemed like a sin.
Just as she finally succumbed, reaching out to grab the first piece of typewritten torture, a loud knock on the door saved her the effort. “You know you don’t have to knock when it’s only me in here,” she called out. The door slowly slid open to reveal Hideyoshi Kazuki and, surprisingly, the Tenth Division eighth seat, Aiyuu Suzume. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising. Suzume was very responsible, hardworking, and a valuable informant when it came to battle strategy; the only reason she hadn’t been promoted to an even higher rank was because there were simply no other spots open. And maybe because of her tendency to daydream as well.
“We’re here to report the results of the briefing,” Kazuki began quietly, a distinct frown prominent upon his features. Rangiku temporarily shoved her war with the paperwork aside, giving the two her full attention. If Kazuki was not happy, she could be certain that she wouldn’t be in a few short minutes either.
“I met Aiyuu on my way to the First Division, and when she heard about the briefing, she wished to come as well. I thought it would be fine, seeing as we were taking the place of a higher ranked official. Yamamoto-soutaichou was pretty annoyed about us arriving in your stead at first, but he excused your absence as soon as Yamada-san informed him about Hinamori’s fit.” Matsumoto nodded, hoping he’d get to actual briefing quickly. She couldn’t help but notice the slightest twitch on Suzume’s part after Kazuki had mentioned Hinamori, hastily covered up by pushing her glasses back up her nose, but she decided to ignore it.
“Kenpachi-taichou, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, Kotetsu-fukutaichou, and Kuchiki-taichou all gave their accounts of the day prior to, and the morning of, Hitsugaya-taichou’s disappearance. When discussing a motive for leave, the Division heads could only discern two possibilities. One was that the arrancar he defeated said something to him that prompted him to leave Soul Society, a threat or something along those lines. This theory was prompted by your earlier statement that he had appeared uncharacteristically perturbed after speaking with his opponent.”
“The second possibility,” he continued, his teeth clenching, “was voiced by Kurotsuchi-taichou and seconded by Soifon-taichou and Yamamoto-soutaichou as a possibility they could not ignore at this stage in our preparation for war.” Rangiku knew exactly what Kazuki was going to say next. Golden brows furrowed dangerously low as pale eyes dug deeply into Kazuki’s own brown. “It cannot be ignored that Hitsugaya-taichou may have joined Aizen’s ranks.”
“However, Yamamoto-soutaichou also agreed that such an alliance may have been brought on through the first possibility,” Suzume suddenly spoke up, nearly tripping over her words in her haste. “Hitsugaya-taichou may have joined Aizen to protect Soul Society from something. And that’s only if he actually did side with Aizen, which no one has been able to prove and which only three out of nine Division heads agreed was a possibility.”
Suzume’s near comical interruption kept Rangiku from tossing the desk across the room in her anger. She had always liked that about Suzume. She was like a tranquilizer for everyone in the division, even Taichou. And Rangiku knew this had to be affecting everyone else just as badly as it was her, so she cooled her jets and merely nodded.
Kazuki took a deep breath before continuing. “A third possibility was voiced by Unohana-taichou, though most present seemed to think it too much of a wild goose chase to pursue.”
“Go on…” Matsumoto encouraged, very interested. If Unohana-taichou had said something than it had to have involved that wound.
“Unohana-taichou believed it was possible that it could have something to do with the wound you and Kusajishi-fukutaichou mentioned.” Bingo. “The arrancar, like shinigami, are known to have very differing abilities due to their unique zanpakutou releases. Unohana-taichou thought that perhaps the wound was only the requirement for such an ability to take hold.
“Unfortunately, the number of possible abilities is endless. Not to mention the fact that Kotetsu-fukutaichou healed the wound.”
Another nod from Matsumoto. That was the kicker, wasn’t it? Yet, after Isane had healed him, Hitsugaya-taichou had followed through with a string of frustrated curses.
“In conclusion,” Kazuki began once again, his features hardening, “because we can’t exclude any of the possibilities so early in the investigation, Yamamoto-soutaichou has decided that we are to view Hitsugaya-taichou’s leave as an act of defiance against Soul Society. He has been stripped of his rank and is to be considered a secondary threat until proven otherwise.”
Matsumoto slid back into her chair, hand cupping her forehead and hiding her eyes from her fellow officers. “Is that all?”
“No,” Kazuki answered, tone morphing into something softer, more empathetic. Rangiku peaked through her fingers at him. Suzume was staring quizzically at him as well. “Ukitake-taichou did not give a statement.”
Matsumoto’s eyes widened considerably at this piece of information as Suzume shifted her gaze from Kazuki to Rangiku to Kazuki to Rangiku, still looking rather confused. She remembered the frantic conversation she had shared with him the very same day Hitsugaya had run off – had it really only been two days ago? – in which she had mentioned that Ukitake had been there to greet her as she felt the last of her taichou’s reiatsu disappear to another world. In other words, Ukitake-taichou had been the last person to see Hitsugaya in Soul Society.
And he hadn’t given a statement?
Ukitake-taichou had always seemed to look after Hitsugaya-taichou, a little like a doting grandfather in many ways. He had always been so honest, so loyal, to everyone no matter what rank or division. He would never keep information that could benefit Hitsugaya to himself. So why no statement? Could it be that he couldn’t give away the information he had? But why wouldn’t he be able to?
And suddenly, it came to her.
“Th-Thank you, Kazuki-kun, Suzume-chan,” she replied, her hand falling from her face to reveal her stunned expression. “I’ll take it from here.”
Kazuki nodded, bowed ever so slightly, and left, pulling an utterly baffled Suzume along behind him. Rangiku continued to stare off into space for a moment longer before she too stood up, collected Haineko from beside her desk, and strode purposefully toward the Thirteenth Division.
Ukitake Jyuushirou had a lot of explaining to do.
After all, the only way a man like him would refuse to give them information about her taichou was if he had sworn he wouldn’t.
And the only person he could have made such a promise to was Hitsugaya Toushirou himself.
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.
“Time rolls on
Wipe these eyes
Yesterday laughs
Tomorrow cries”
-Can’t Repeat, The Offspring
~*~
Chapter Seven
Falling Up and Getting Down
~*~
Hitsugaya tried his hardest to stare solely at the book propped in front of his face and ignore the thing as it watched him hesitantly from behind a bookshelf. Despite the fact that the little thing seemed to be scared out of its wits by every single movement he perpetrated, it was aggravatingly insistent on following him around everywhere he went.
This habit was making it very hard for him to concentrate on the numerous dusty volumes stacked beside him, piled even higher than his own contemptible 4’4”.
After Tatsuki had finished with him and explanations had been shared on both sides, Kurosaki had decided it would be best if he took Rukia home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, there was a slight snag in his plans, an unexpected guest. “Nell” he had called it, Hitsugaya recalled disdainfully.
It obviously couldn’t go home with Kurosaki; it would not have been fun to try and explain that one to such an insane father as Hitsugaya knew Kurosaki Isshin was even after only seeing the man twice. None of the other students could take it either, although Inoue had volunteered. School would begin again tomorrow, and she would be unable to watch it for most of the day. Abarai was instantly crossed off the list, no explanation needed there. Both Shihouin and Urahara maintained that they had business to take care of now that there was no more need to watch the gateway.
And so, by process of elimination, babysitting duty had fallen upon him.
The sound of light shuffling told him it had moved, and he finally lowered the book. It was practically shaking as it inched closer and closer to him, leaving the cover of the bookshelf behind it. Sighing grouchily, he let it take a few more baby steps before finally asking, “What?”
It gulped as it looked up at him, big gray-brown eyes enhancing the pout prominent upon its lips. His question seemed to prompt a sudden courage in it, even though it still looked like it would rather run back behind the shelf.
“You’re weird.”
Hitsugaya was utterly taken aback by the bluntness of the statement. That thing had just called him weird?
“You smell like home,” it continued, pout growing in size. “But you smell like a shinigami too.” And now he smelled. “Ichigo smells like that.”
“Does he?” Hitsugaya just barely managed, lowering the book another inch or so. Despite his better judgment, he had to admit the declaration interested him.
“I like Ichigo.” Hitsugaya watched, perplexed, as it took a deep breath, standing up as tall as it could and thrusting its stomach forward. “I like you too.”
His book finally hit the floor.
“Shinigami are scary and mean and like to kill us and suck our blood!” it began to run off on a tangent, not shaking quite so much any longer, as Hitsugaya’s eyes widening with that last particular accusation. “But you and Ichigo aren’t like that! You both could use some serious anger management, but you’re not evil! And you’re funny! So I like you.”
Silence.
“Do you like Nell?”
Letting out another sigh, he frowned, looking right into its eyes which were just below his own eyelevel with him sitting in this chair. “I suppose … you’re not as bad … as some of the others,” he muttered, not quite sure what he was supposed to say in such a situation.
And although he was fairly sure that if he had said that to anyone else it would have been offending, when she heard him her pout evolved into a large grin and she jumped onto his lap, curling up and making herself comfortable like some sort of cat.
With a small snort, he turned away from her to look up at the ceiling.
He wondered if Matsumoto was faring any better than he was.
Matsumoto Rangiku lifted her head up wearily from her desk to stare at the Hell Butterfly that had just flown in through the open window. She didn’t even bother to lift a hand for it to land on. She merely watched through half-closed lids as it fluttered before her nose, then perched upon her shoulder.
“Kurotsuchi-taichou and Kyouraku-taichou have arrived. Yamamoto-soutaichou requests a second briefing within the hour.”
“Really now? Well, you can just tell Yamamoto-soutaichou to go stick his briefing up his ass,” the frustrated fukutaichou snarled, tossing aside a stack of unfinished paperwork that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to even doodle on. The butterfly shifted its ebony wings for a moment as if in contemplation, before it took off. It was another second or two before realization dawned on Rangiku’s features like a ton of unforgiving bricks and she leapt from her chair, tossing herself halfway out the window in order to snag the insect in mid-flight.
“No, no. I’m sorry. Please, forget you ever heard that,” she groaned, her twitching brow bearing an uncanny resemblance to a certain MIA taichou. “Just … I’ll be there,” she finally sighed, defeated, letting the butterfly go once again.
Grumbling various unpleasant things under her breath, she marched out of the office, passing a very concerned Tenth Division third seat, Hideyoshi Kazuki, along the way. “Ah! Matsumoto-san!” he called, running after her. “Is it another briefing then?”
Rangiku didn’t answer, but she knew Kazuki well enough to realize that the grim pout she wore was even more answer than was needed. He sighed as he fell into step beside her, self-consciously itching the back of his neck. “Well…” he trailed off momentarily before continuing, “Yamamoto-soutaichou probably won’t be very pleased with it, but … if it would help … I could take your place. Ne, Matsumoto-san?”
Tenth Division’s fukutaichou froze at the suggestion, her back to the sheepish third seat. For a second, he wondered if he had said something wrong, then she turned around.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she flung her arms around him in a giant bear hug. Unfortunately, he wasn’t Hitsugaya, and so Matsumoto’s heavenly assets only succeeded in knocking the air from his lungs, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased none-the-less. “Thank you, Kazuki-kun!” she sobbed dramatically as she released him.
“N-No problem,” he stuttered, a large, toothy grin threatening to overwhelm him as he watched his fukutaichou head for the division’s courtyard. But slowly, surely, the farther she walked, the more the giddiness faded. He took a deep breath, then let it go as he turned around and headed silently to First Division’s headquarters.
That courtyard was where Hitsugaya-taichou had always wandered off to when he had needed time to himself.
And time to herself was definitely what she needed, Matsumoto pouted as she came to a stop. Lifting her palm to her forehead, she let it slide backward and snag her bangs, pulling the marigold-hued strands from her eyes. Before her stood the Tenth Division’s prized fountain, Narcissus insignia and all. Vaguely she wondered who could have had the gall to choose a flower called the Narcissus as an emblem that represented everything he (or she) stood for. But then she gave up on trying to distract herself.
First Gin, now Hitsugaya. She had given her loyalties to each in turn; and each in turn had left her here alone.
What was she exactly? Was she some kind of natural taichou repellent? Was it her personality? Was she just that sort of person? Could it be her chronic bad sleeping habits? Her breath? She could change all of that if that was all it took!
…
It was the boobs, wasn’t it?
Rangiku let her legs give way beneath her to sit down on the ring of the fountain, surprised that she couldn’t even laugh at her own jokes.
Maybe she was just too stupid to understand the reason.
She never really knew what she had been expecting the after life to be like, but she was sure this wasn’t it.
Just as she began contemplating dunking her head into the crystal clear water, yet another Hell Butterfly alighted next to her. What now?!
“Matsumoto-fukutaichou! Hinamori-fukutaichou is at it again! I don’t know who else to call!”
Rangiku pouted animatedly before jumping to her feet, fists clenched with solemn decision. Without even responding, she hastily made her way to Fourth Division, running as fast as she could without stepping into shunpo. Taking a quick short cut, she made it in record time. She barged in to a fair many complaints and hastened her pace toward Hinamori’s room. The door was wide open, but she couldn’t see in due to the many other shinigami crowding around in panic.
“Matsumoto-fukutaichou!” the voice from the Hell Butterfly wailed thankfully. Said shinigami whirled around to face a reasonably small, scrawny, and fretting Yamada Hanatarou.
“Hana-kun!” She had come to know the quiet, frantic, Fourth Division shinigami well since Hitsugaya had run off. Despite what his personality tended to project, he was skilled at what he did, a quality of which Unohana-taichou was obviously aware considering his assignment to Kuchiki Rukia and now to Hinamori Momo. This sort of thing wasn’t exactly his most professional area of expertise, however, and he was looking even more distraught than usual. “How is-” she began but was cut off by a shrill, desperate scream.
“Where is he?! Where did you take him?! Where is Hitsugaya-kun?!”
“Hinamori-san! Calm down! We’ve already told you; we haven’t taken him anywhere!”
“Then where is he?! I want to see Hitsugaya-kun!”
“We don’t know where he is!”
“Liar!” Hinamori shrieked as Matsumoto shoved her way into the room, Hanatarou peeking out from behind her. Two shinigami were attempting to hold the rampaging ex-fukutaichou back as she reached out a threatening hand toward a third who was the one trying, and failing miserably, to reason with her. Her usually docile brown eyes were wide and wild, salty tears spewing as she struggled. Whatever health she had gained since she had wakened from her coma, these fits of hers were quickly draining it.
For just a moment, Rangiku wondered how Hitsugaya would have felt, seeing Hinamori like this. Would he have been guilt-ridden with the notion that he was failing Hinamori yet again? Or would a small part of him have felt a morbid satisfaction that, despite all of Aizen’s twisted rearing, he could still engender such a reaction within her?
“Hinamori-san, please! I’m telling the truth!”
“Liar!” she repeated hysterically, beginning to claw furiously at the arms of her captors. “You all took him away, didn’t you?! It’s because he listened to me, isn’t it?! He told you he wanted to help Aizen-taichou for me, and you took him away!”
A resounding slap stung the very air, and Hinamori was instantly silenced as Matsumoto withdrew her hand from her soggy cheek. “How dare you even think that!” Rangiku didn’t know whether the grief-stricken girl’s words were prompted through desperate hysterics or whether she really believed them to be true. Either way, each and every word Hinamori had just uttered had struck nerve after nerve until she could no longer stand to listen. “How dare you assume that you’re the only one who’s worried!”
“M-Matsumoto-san…” came the frail whimper as Hinamori stopped struggling. “Matsumoto-san…” Her voice cracked as her wild, brown eyes scrunched tightly closed and the individual tears gave way to streams. “He can’t have left. He can’t have. There’s no way. He’d never leave me on his own. Even if he had a reason. Even if he had a reason! He’d never-!”
One of the shinigami, seizing on the fact that Hinamori had paused in her attacks, reached into the satchel hanging from his shoulder. Matsumoto distinctly saw Momo’s eye waver toward the needle he pulled out despite her tantrum. She wasn’t surprised. Even Hinamori was aware of how they were going to deal with her. This was not the first time she had done this. What did surprise her was when the suspended fukutaichou turned hastily to face her, eyes still shining with moisture and holding a desperate vigil about them.
“Matsumoto-san… You should know better than anyone, right? You’re his fukutaichou. You’re supposed to understand, right? Then, tell me. Where is Hitsugaya-kun?”
The questions had a strange impact on Rangiku. She had been ready to slap her again, despite Hanatarou’s worried hovering, but she didn’t. Her expression lost most of its animosity, yet it remained deathly serious, slightly reminiscent of the one she had held as she had handed the aggrieved Fifth Division fukutaichou Aizen’s letter through metal bars.
“I honestly don’t know. But I have an idea. And I promise you I will find him, and I will bring him back.”
The flow of tears stemmed as Hinamori continued to stare into Matsumoto’s pale, hardened eyes. “Matsumoto-san … I …”
Rangiku never heard the rest, as the needle had already punctured the skin and Hinamori fell into sleep mid-sentence. She watched rather numbly as the three shinigami shuffled her to her bed and Hanatarou hastened to heal the numerous scratch marks adorning them all.
They were just lucky that she had been too distressed to use kidou.
Matsumoto stared at the paperwork piled on the desk in front of her. She wasn’t exactly sure when this had become a staring contest, but it had. And despite the fact that the endless stacks of paper had no eyes to stare with, she seemed to be losing. Badly.
There was just something about the way the paperwork sat there, completely untouched and obscuring her view of her taichou’s desk, that made her want to throw it to the floor and rip all of it to shreds. Then barbeque the shreds and toss the ashes into Hueco Mundo.
Allowing them to meet any other fate seemed like a sin.
Just as she finally succumbed, reaching out to grab the first piece of typewritten torture, a loud knock on the door saved her the effort. “You know you don’t have to knock when it’s only me in here,” she called out. The door slowly slid open to reveal Hideyoshi Kazuki and, surprisingly, the Tenth Division eighth seat, Aiyuu Suzume. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising. Suzume was very responsible, hardworking, and a valuable informant when it came to battle strategy; the only reason she hadn’t been promoted to an even higher rank was because there were simply no other spots open. And maybe because of her tendency to daydream as well.
“We’re here to report the results of the briefing,” Kazuki began quietly, a distinct frown prominent upon his features. Rangiku temporarily shoved her war with the paperwork aside, giving the two her full attention. If Kazuki was not happy, she could be certain that she wouldn’t be in a few short minutes either.
“I met Aiyuu on my way to the First Division, and when she heard about the briefing, she wished to come as well. I thought it would be fine, seeing as we were taking the place of a higher ranked official. Yamamoto-soutaichou was pretty annoyed about us arriving in your stead at first, but he excused your absence as soon as Yamada-san informed him about Hinamori’s fit.” Matsumoto nodded, hoping he’d get to actual briefing quickly. She couldn’t help but notice the slightest twitch on Suzume’s part after Kazuki had mentioned Hinamori, hastily covered up by pushing her glasses back up her nose, but she decided to ignore it.
“Kenpachi-taichou, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, Kotetsu-fukutaichou, and Kuchiki-taichou all gave their accounts of the day prior to, and the morning of, Hitsugaya-taichou’s disappearance. When discussing a motive for leave, the Division heads could only discern two possibilities. One was that the arrancar he defeated said something to him that prompted him to leave Soul Society, a threat or something along those lines. This theory was prompted by your earlier statement that he had appeared uncharacteristically perturbed after speaking with his opponent.”
“The second possibility,” he continued, his teeth clenching, “was voiced by Kurotsuchi-taichou and seconded by Soifon-taichou and Yamamoto-soutaichou as a possibility they could not ignore at this stage in our preparation for war.” Rangiku knew exactly what Kazuki was going to say next. Golden brows furrowed dangerously low as pale eyes dug deeply into Kazuki’s own brown. “It cannot be ignored that Hitsugaya-taichou may have joined Aizen’s ranks.”
“However, Yamamoto-soutaichou also agreed that such an alliance may have been brought on through the first possibility,” Suzume suddenly spoke up, nearly tripping over her words in her haste. “Hitsugaya-taichou may have joined Aizen to protect Soul Society from something. And that’s only if he actually did side with Aizen, which no one has been able to prove and which only three out of nine Division heads agreed was a possibility.”
Suzume’s near comical interruption kept Rangiku from tossing the desk across the room in her anger. She had always liked that about Suzume. She was like a tranquilizer for everyone in the division, even Taichou. And Rangiku knew this had to be affecting everyone else just as badly as it was her, so she cooled her jets and merely nodded.
Kazuki took a deep breath before continuing. “A third possibility was voiced by Unohana-taichou, though most present seemed to think it too much of a wild goose chase to pursue.”
“Go on…” Matsumoto encouraged, very interested. If Unohana-taichou had said something than it had to have involved that wound.
“Unohana-taichou believed it was possible that it could have something to do with the wound you and Kusajishi-fukutaichou mentioned.” Bingo. “The arrancar, like shinigami, are known to have very differing abilities due to their unique zanpakutou releases. Unohana-taichou thought that perhaps the wound was only the requirement for such an ability to take hold.
“Unfortunately, the number of possible abilities is endless. Not to mention the fact that Kotetsu-fukutaichou healed the wound.”
Another nod from Matsumoto. That was the kicker, wasn’t it? Yet, after Isane had healed him, Hitsugaya-taichou had followed through with a string of frustrated curses.
“In conclusion,” Kazuki began once again, his features hardening, “because we can’t exclude any of the possibilities so early in the investigation, Yamamoto-soutaichou has decided that we are to view Hitsugaya-taichou’s leave as an act of defiance against Soul Society. He has been stripped of his rank and is to be considered a secondary threat until proven otherwise.”
Matsumoto slid back into her chair, hand cupping her forehead and hiding her eyes from her fellow officers. “Is that all?”
“No,” Kazuki answered, tone morphing into something softer, more empathetic. Rangiku peaked through her fingers at him. Suzume was staring quizzically at him as well. “Ukitake-taichou did not give a statement.”
Matsumoto’s eyes widened considerably at this piece of information as Suzume shifted her gaze from Kazuki to Rangiku to Kazuki to Rangiku, still looking rather confused. She remembered the frantic conversation she had shared with him the very same day Hitsugaya had run off – had it really only been two days ago? – in which she had mentioned that Ukitake had been there to greet her as she felt the last of her taichou’s reiatsu disappear to another world. In other words, Ukitake-taichou had been the last person to see Hitsugaya in Soul Society.
And he hadn’t given a statement?
Ukitake-taichou had always seemed to look after Hitsugaya-taichou, a little like a doting grandfather in many ways. He had always been so honest, so loyal, to everyone no matter what rank or division. He would never keep information that could benefit Hitsugaya to himself. So why no statement? Could it be that he couldn’t give away the information he had? But why wouldn’t he be able to?
And suddenly, it came to her.
“Th-Thank you, Kazuki-kun, Suzume-chan,” she replied, her hand falling from her face to reveal her stunned expression. “I’ll take it from here.”
Kazuki nodded, bowed ever so slightly, and left, pulling an utterly baffled Suzume along behind him. Rangiku continued to stare off into space for a moment longer before she too stood up, collected Haineko from beside her desk, and strode purposefully toward the Thirteenth Division.
Ukitake Jyuushirou had a lot of explaining to do.
After all, the only way a man like him would refuse to give them information about her taichou was if he had sworn he wouldn’t.
And the only person he could have made such a promise to was Hitsugaya Toushirou himself.