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Fanfiction || Treading Icy Waters 18
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.
~*~
“In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.”
-Pliny the Elder
~*~
Chapter Eighteen
Dodging the Depths
~*~
Urahara was once again alone in his workshop, grinning from ear to ear. This time, however, it wasn’t because of any invention he’d created or any thoughts of testing such a device on one of his many guests. He was grinning in anticipation. Matsumoto’s reiatsu had just strolled into the shop, and he was more than ready to open up the precious package he had sent her to retrieve.
The door opened, the woman trotted down the stares, and he reached out his hand. Then she promptly took a seat, glaring him down from across his work desk. There was nothing in his hand. He looked inquisitively at his still outstretched arm before turning his head to face his companion. The small box was set neatly in her lap, just out of his reach. An amusing sensation of déjà vu overcame him as he slowly leaned back in his own seat, propping his arms against the back of the chair.
Rangiku’s luscious lips were set in a full pout, her ash gray eyes locked on him in utter determination. He smirked.
Aw. She was so cute when she was trying to be serious. “Well? Did you have fun?” he intoned brightly.
“I met Taichou today,” she replied, quite the opposite to Urahara’s sunny demeanor. “He let me take him out for ice cream.”
“Was it any good? You should have brought some back for me,” came the return whine.
Rangiku dutifully ignored him. “What did you do to him this time?”
“Whatever could you mean?”
“I’m not stupid!” she growled, her hands grasping the box in her lap, nails just digging into the crudely wrapped edges. “Isshin comes charging in with the very Quincy he was sent to kill twenty years ago, carrying Taichou around like some … some corpse! And then when he’s okay, the first thing Taichou does is run into me without even realizing it’s me and agree to eating ice cream! Ice cream! With gummy bears on top! I know you know about everything that’s been happening! You’re behind most of it! You don’t even try to hide it! So what did you do to him?”
“I’ve already told you, Rangiku-chan,” Urahara sighed. “I’ve done nothing but uphold my end of the bargain. Now that everything’s been settled, you won’t need to worry about me messing with your precious taichou any longer.”
Matsumoto paused, her shoulders tensing. “What do you mean everything’s been settled?”
“We’ve completed our deal, Rangiku-chan. Now there’s only one thing left I promised to do for him.”
“And what would that be?” she trailed suspiciously. He hadn’t really answered her first question, but she knew that if she hadn’t gotten an answer out of him yet, she wouldn’t be getting it at all. She’d have to ask Hitsugaya himself what was wrong. It wasn’t something she looked forward to.
Why wasn’t simple loyalty ever enough? Why did she always have to worry so much about him as her taichou stubbornly continued to walk around pretending that everything was okay?
“Isn’t that obvious?” the man chirped, enjoying the shift in control of the conversation. “Tonight you start work on mastering your bankai.”
The impact of this statement was sufficient enough to distract her from his greedy hands, and so while her eyes widened in comprehension, he snagged the box and sat back down. Unfortunately, she was too far gone to even complain about his smugness, and that ruined his fun. He watched her eyes glaze over and let out a sigh. Geez. He hadn’t expected her to overreact this much. She’d been the one to ask for it, after all. Why was she so surprised? Oh, well. He knew ways of making people talk (and had invented several new ones throughout the years as well). He’d gotten his package. Now it was time to indulge.
And so, with Matsumoto still sitting right across from him, he opened the small box and shamelessly produced a very inappropriate, very showy magazine.
For several seconds, time seemed to have halted. Then Rangiku burst forward, launching herself over the desk to snatch the magazine out of Urahara’s hand. His knowing smirk reached all new levels of self-satisfaction. “This is what you’ve had me carting around all this time? Dirty magazines?!” she shouted in disbelief, waving the rolled up piece of literature inches in front of the salesman’s nose. “This is what’s supposed to help Taichou!?”
“My dear, sweet Rangiku. Have a little faith, ne?” he chided lightly, stopping the wild movements of the magazine with his pointer and middle fingers. “This is merely the icing on the cake. A little joke between friends. Understand?”
“Not in the least.”
Pulling the magazine out of her grip with the aforementioned fingers, he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for and held it out so that she could see. On the page, in bold, familiar handwriting, were the words, “Page 24, 4:00PM.”
She stared at the message blankly for a moment before daring to ask, “How long until four o’clock?”
“Exactly fifteen seconds,” the man grinned.
With that, he turned to the specified page, and the moment his obnoxious cuckoo clock struck four, a hell butterfly fluttered out from the center of the spread. It floated daintily in place for the remainder of the cuckoo’s three chimes, but the moment they ceased it landed atop Urahara’s hand. One second of silence, two seconds, three seconds, four…
Then: “Oi! Kiiisssuukkeee!! You there?!”
Rangiku would have recognized that inebriated voice from anywhere. Her gray eyes widened in utter disbelief. Urahara Kisuke had been talking to these people all along, and he’d never told her, they’d never come. What the hell was that bastard doing?! In an instant, she’d pushed Urahara out of the way so that she could yell into the hell butterfly.
“Kyouraku-taichou! Kyouraku-taichou! Don’t believe anything he says! You have to tell Yamamoto-soutaichou! It’s not Hitsugaya-taichou’s fault! He’s not a traitor! He was attacked and couldn’t stay in Seireitei or he’d die! Even Yamamoto-soutaichou would have to agree Taichou’s worth more alive than dead! Just send Unohana-taichou to Karakura, and this whole mess will be cleared up in no time! Please!”
“Rangiku-chan?” prompted another voice, this one not nearly as loud or obnoxious as its counterpart. “What are you doing here?”
“Ukitake-taichou! Please, just tell them!” She whirled around, eyes practically flaming as they settled on the widely grinning be-hatted salesman. Not just one shinigami taichou, but two?! “Have you been in contact with Seireitei this whole time?!”
“Ran-chan,” returned Kyouraku-taichou’s voice. “Calm down, sweetheart. Just listen a bit, and we’ll-”
“What did you call me?!” She had the frantic butterfly in hand, more than ready to chuck it right to the ground.
“Rangiku! Kisuke isn’t in contact with the Seireitei!”
When she heard Ukitake’s frantic interruption, Matsumoto fell back into Urahara’s seat. Kisuke removed his hat, dusting it absently as he stood straight, plucking the hell butterfly from the young woman’s palm.
Ukitake’s voice continued after a moment. His tone was strained, obviously not happy about what he had to say. “Rangiku-chan, what we’re doing right now is illegal by Seireitei law. The only way a shinigami can speak with an exile is with both Yamamoto-soutaichou’s permission and attendance, but if we ask for his consent, he will know Hitsugaya-kun’s location and will see no need to hear Kisuke out at all. The only reason we haven’t sent men to retrieve him as of yet is because you haven’t reported sighting him. Do you understand? As soon as he’s learned Hitsugaya-kun’s location, he’ll have no choice but to force Hitsugaya-kun to return to Seireitei for questioning. And you as well.”
“He can’t go back to Seireitei,” she replied weakly.
“Exactly,” Urahara pouted. “Which is why he’s still here, ne? Don’t worry so much. I’m not that untrustworthy.”
A round of hearty chuckling followed this statement as Kyouraku made a gulping sound that was suspiciously similar to the sound of guzzling sake. “We talked to Retsu-san about all of it just a few days ago. She’s ready to take him in the moment you need her.” Rangiku could practically see the large smile crawling across the man’s wet lips. “But Juushirou here decided against talkin’ with grumpy pants Byakuya ‘cause he didn’t want to drag the poor guy into another fiasco after he went and helped Renji and his little sister get out of Seireitei and all.”
“I’m sorry, Rangiku,” Ukitake sighed. “I wish we could do more, but in the midst of preparation for war, there’s so little time to get anything done at all. And now all of Soul Society is on edge since Aizen sent his so-called messenger.”
Rangiku sat up, leaning in. She was beginning to wonder just how many more surprises she could take. There had to be a limit at some point. “Aizen … sent a messenger?”
Urahara made a distinct clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head as he did so. “I should have known. He’s been delaying, after all. Who did he send, and what did he have to say to our precious Genryuusai?”
“So far all he’s done is propose … an exchange. Yamamoto-soutaichou hasn’t given his reply as of yet, but…” Ukitake let loose a heavy sigh. “His messenger is an arrancar of no importance. Aizen isn’t stupid enough to send in someone we could use. He was reduced to his knees as soon as Yamamoto-soutaichou released his reiatsu. But the message wasn’t quite as easy to ignore.”
“Just spit it out, Juushirou. All this suspense is bad for the sake,” Shunsui scolded lightly. “The messenger came to say that Aizen heard about what happened and that if we handed over little Toushirou-kun, he’d be willing to let Seireitei decide the battlefield first before tryin’ to run off to Karakura to suck up all the souls he’s been lustin’ after.”
“That’s impossible! You just said-”
“Now, now, sit tight,” Urahara held Rangiku’s shoulder and pushed her back into his chair. His usual mischievous grin had disappeared, replaced with an agitated frown. He had been expecting something like this. He just hadn’t been expecting … this. This was very, very bad for his little, white crowned ward. “Aizen doesn’t need to make any deals with Seireitei to get his hands on Hitsugaya-kun. He knows exactly where the kid is, and he knows that Yamamoto doesn’t. It’s a ruse to make himself appear ignorant and Hitsugaya appear guilty. A stalling technique, perhaps, or even just another way to mess with our heads.”
“So he’s not interested in Hitsugaya-kun then?” Ukitake intoned cautiously. “Didn’t you inform us that it was through his means that…?”
Rangiku frowned but said nothing. Urahara still looked rather grim. “Oh, he’s interested, all right. If he wasn’t, he would have simply left it to its own devices. Instead he’s needlessly prodding the flames.” No, Urahara frowned. Aizen never did anything needlessly. “Let them hold their negotiations for now. Aizen isn’t stupid, but neither is Yamamoto; if he was, he wouldn’t be soutaichou.”
“Well, we knew that, but it’s surprising to hear it coming from you, Kisuke,” Kyouraku-taichou intoned dryly.
“I don’t have time to deal with old geezers or fake promises,” he waved away the man’s comment. “I don’t need any more annoyances than I already have. Hitsugaya-kun is bother enough on his own. Honestly, you shinigami and your false accusations.”
“Then we’ll leave him in your capable hands,” Ukitake replied sincerely. “Thank you, Kisuke.”
“Not as if we have much choice,” Kyouraku-taichou concluded.
With that, the hell butterfly dissolved.
~*~
Hitsugaya Toushirou trudged grudgingly through the hallway of Urahara’s house, having arrived with Matsumoto but been unwilling to talk to the knowing blonde again so soon. Instead, he had opted to head down to the underground facility. He could feel Kurosaki and Kuchiki’s flaring reiatsu long before he saw them, and he didn’t want to know what had started this particular fight any more than he wanted to know what had started all of the others.
He just wanted to see who had won.
Ah, Kuchiki then.
He stood there silently for a moment as the two continued on with their bout. Well, he wasn’t sure it could even be considered that much anymore. Rukia was situated atop Kurosaki’s back, the redhead’s stomach being pinned to the ground, as she grappled with one of his legs, pulling it back much farther than it would ever be able to go through natural means. He was screaming bloody murder while she goaded him in triumph, something about saying ‘uncle’ and answering questions with actual answers.
“Ahem,” he finally coughed into his palm, and the two violent teenagers paused their rampage in surprise.
“Hitsugaya-taichou!” Kuchiki hastily caught herself, jumping off of Kurosaki to offer the former taichou a small, respectful bow. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t…”
The crumpled heap that had been beneath her pulled himself up into a sitting position, glad to be free. “Thanks, Toushirou! You seriously saved my-”
“Quiet, you!” Rukia asserted with a swift kick in between Kurosaki’s legs. Even Hitsugaya couldn’t hold back a small wince as the redheaded teen fell back again.
But if they hadn’t noticed him, then that meant that Urahara’s collar was working. It was disbursing his reiatsu and therefore making him less of a giant, red target. That was progress at least. Although the feeling of the substitute’s reiatsu, even though it was fairly well controlled, didn’t make things any easier. That was one detail he didn’t plan on leaking to any of them. If they realized that it was their reiatsu as well as his that had contributed to his two months being cut clean in half…
He didn’t want to think about it.
Instead he focused on Kuchiki Rukia’s questioning stare. She’d gone from thrashing Kurosaki, to stiff politeness, to space cadet in the span of a minute. “…Yes?” he hazarded.
“Ah, er … Hitsugaya-taichou,” she began hesitantly, but when she turned and saw Kurosaki still twitching on the floor, she whirled back around, determined. “I know something’s wrong, Hitsugaya-taichou. And Renji does too. You don’t have to hide it from us. We know you didn’t leave Seireitei under orders, but so what? You helped us leave against orders. So, please. We can’t repay our debt to you unless you tell us how we can help.”
Hitsugaya slowly, deliberately, turned to face Kurosaki, his hand inching toward his zanpakutou. “I didn’t tell her anything!” the teenager growled, his voice hoarse. “She had me in a friggin’ headlock, and I didn’t tell her anything! So don’t go pinning this on me!” But then he suddenly turned to Rukia, seeming to forget about the pain in his nether regions as he waved a hand to halt the conversation.
“Wait a second. Time out. Did you just say he helped you and Renji leave Soul Society? I thought you said Byakuya did it!”
“Well, yes,” Rukia replied, waiting to see if Hitsugaya had anything to say on the matter. When he remained silent, she finished, “Nii-sama was the one who got us back to Karakura, but Hitsugaya-taichou … helped.”
Now Kurosaki was staring at him too. Just great. “Uh, thanks, I guess,” the substitute shinigami replied awkwardly. “I thought you, like, never broke the rules.”
In response, he received a frigid glare that spoke clearer than any words ever could. I’m here, aren’t I? He was all for keeping order, but he wasn’t Kuchiki-taichou, and even that man had gone against Seireitei’s laws a fair few times recently. “I didn’t do anything at all. I doubt anyone would have tried to stop you anyway,” he huffed.
Rukia just smiled.
~*~
She couldn’t believe it.
After all of the time she’d spend in Karakura, after everything she’d seen, she was stuck back here in Seireitei while Ichigo moped around in the living realm. Their plea to save Orihime having been denied, the shinigami stationed in Karakura had had no choice but to return, their every move scrutinized by Zaraki-taichou and her Nii-sama. And now she was stuck, having no other way to vent her frustrations than going through her motions with her zanpakutou again and again, imagining the faces of the Espada on the other end of her blade.
“Rukia…”
The shinigami whirled around at the familiar voice, blinking in surprise at Renji’s face hovering anxiously outside the door of the empty Thirteenth Division dojo. Her eyes widened when she saw who was with him.
“Come,” beckoned Kuchiki Byakuya.
She didn’t hesitate. The three of them walked for some distance before stopping. Rukia frowned. They were in an open area, barren of plant life or buildings. She recognized it as the Tenth Division training grounds. Why were they here? She turned her inquisitive gaze to Renji, but he looked just as perplexed as she did.
Until Nii-sama offered them two cloaks and a hell butterfly. Rukia’s eyes widened in comprehension. Nii-sama … was letting them go back? She looked up at him, his apathetic features revealing nothing, and she smiled. “Thank you, Nii-sama,” she whispered.
“Hi-Hitsugaya-taichou!” came a surprised gasp from her left.
She turned to see Renji staring at the approaching Tenth Division taichou and nearly cringed. They’d just waltzed right into the Tenth Division training grounds! Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou would have noticed! What sort of excuse could they possibly come up with for that? She was about to ask her brother himself, but froze when she saw him.
He was looking directly at Hitsugaya-taichou as if he was just waiting for him to approach. The closer the small taichou came, the more butterflies she could feel running circles around her stomach, but those little butterflies quickly became angry wasps when the boy withdrew his zanpakutou. Why would he do that before he even interrogated them? They hadn’t even done anything wrong yet?! Hitsugaya-taichou had been there in Karakura too. How could he just keep walking toward them so calmly, holding that blade in his hand? His reiatsu was bursting to the brim, and he hadn’t even called on his shikai. What was he playing at? He was right in front of them by now.
“Hitsugaya-taichou.”
“Kuchiki-taichou.”
The two nodded politely to each other, and Hitsugaya walked right past them. Rukia and Renji nearly collapsed from the release of tension. They both whirled around just in time to see the young taichou stop walking several meters away from them and release his shikai. The energy produced from the summon filled the air with dense, frigid power, but though Rukia and Renji were both stunned, her Nii-sama remained unaffected.
Taking the boy’s release as a cue, he muttered a few words under his breath. The hell butterfly obediently opened a gateway to the living realm. He turned to the two shinigami matter-of-factly. “Urahara Kisuke will be waiting for you,” he said simply. Rukia wanted nothing more than to hug him, but she held herself back, instead turning to Hitsugaya.
His intense reiatsu completely masked both theirs and the gateway’s energy. No one would realize their reiatsu had left Seireitei until Hitsugaya-taichou resealed Hyourinmaru. “W-Why…?” she was just able to hear Renji stutter.
The white crowned taichou didn’t waver, didn’t even turn around. “If you think you’re the only ones who know Inoue is innocent, then you’re stupider than I give you credit for.”
Rukia didn’t bother to argue. She nodded to her brother, wrapping the cloak around her before grabbing Renji’s arm and leaping through the opening.
They had no time to waste.
~*~
“There isn’t any sort of debt that needs to be repaid, so don’t worry about it,” Hitsugaya asserted for the umpteenth time.
This time’s results were no better than any of the others. “I don’t care,” Rukia grunted. “I want to help anyway. All of us do. You’re not really a taichou anymore, right? You can’t push us away by pulling rank.”
“Rukia, let it be. The brat doesn’t want any help,” Kurosaki grumbled from his spot behind Kuchiki. The two had been following him around relentlessly. He’d tried running away, fighting back, even hiding, but they always caught up to him. It was driving him mad. First that annoying girl, and now this?
“Not brat,” the ex-taichou seethed. “Hitsugaya-taichou!”
“Well, you’re sure acting like a brat right now. I haven't told her what’s going on because I promised I wouldn’t, but if she already knows something’s up, why are you still hiding it?” the high school delinquent scolded him. Scolded him! When would they just shut up?! “The way I see it, the more people you have helping you, the better chance you have of getting out of this mess. That’s why you came to Getaboushi’s in the first place, right?”
“Hitsugaya-taichou, we won’t hold it against you, whatever your reason is. I don’t care if you say we don’t owe you anything. I know we still do. You helped us, so let us help you.” At Hitsugaya’s silence, she smiled sweetly. “Or else I’ll make sure you end up in such a horrible condition that you’ll have no choice but to ask for our help.”
Where had his authority gone, for goodness sake? Kuchiki Rukia had only just discovered his rank was caput, and she was already making threats. This was ridiculous! He turned around to face his two newest shadows, his expression showing every bit of annoyance he was experiencing. “If you don’t shut up right now…”
He never finished. The look on Kurosaki’s face made him stop. The substitute’s scowl had thinned into a determined line. There was no point in finishing his threat. This was Kurosaki’s way of saying that he wasn’t going to go through with his promise. He was going to tell Kuchiki right here and now. He didn’t care about Hitsugaya’s threats any longer.
“I guess a couple of arrancar jumped up on their porch steps while we were in Hueco Mundo. One of them gave Toushirou here a nasty bite on his back and told him that it was from crazy, fox-faced taichou. The wound messed him up, and now he’s got electro-poison wave thingies going through his body. He couldn’t stay in Soul Society, or else they’d fry him, so he’s playing the guy’s sick game so he can get help from Getaboushi.”
Rukia’s violet orbs were wide with disbelief. “I-Is that true…?”
Hitsugaya was very nearly beyond words. His mind was racing with so many unintelligible thoughts that he couldn’t interpret any of them at all. Finally, he just had to shut it down. He couldn’t keep doing this. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Yes,” he replied, his voice leveled into a soft, steady monotone. “But none of that matters anymore.”
“And why not?” Kurosaki countered instantly.
Hitsugaya only walked out of the room, leaving them behind with a simple, three word answer.
“Because I lost.”
He hadn’t walked more than a few meters before he heard that oh-so-familiar voice that he had come down here to avoid in the first place.
“It’s time.”
“Is Matsumoto ready?” he asked coldly, looking Urahara Kisuke in the eye.
The cane-toting salesman smirked, pulling his hat down so that it shaded his eyes as they walked. “This wasn’t my idea,” he taunted. “Why’re you asking me?”
“Because you were just talking to her,” Hitsugaya replied, refusing to take the man’s bait.
Urahara shook his head disapprovingly. “About that… It seems Aizen’s up to something. We just shared a lovely conversation about it in my work shop. It involved a great deal of angry yelling and pushing,” he whined, swinging the cane absently at his side. “He called up Seireitei and asked if they had any extra Ten Division taichou in stock.”
It took a moment for Hitsugaya to translate this into something that made sense. “Aizen Sousuke … asked for me?”
“A trade. You for some happier hunting grounds.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Hitsugaya frowned.
“Nope, it doesn’t,” the blonde man grinned. “By asking Seireitei to hand you over, he makes himself seem like he doesn’t know where you are. That alone proves that he knows exactly where you are. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have pulled such a pointless stunt. What Aizen’s telling us is that he really is the one behind that untraceable hollow. He’s been watching us.”
“Which means he can send more of those hollows whenever he feels like it,” Hitsugaya finished lamely.
“Hitsugaya-kun, the hollow you encountered was obviously sent for nothing more than observational purposes. If he intends to get in our way, there’s a high probability that he isn’t going to send a couple of normal hollows next time.”
The boy’s frown deepened in contemplation. Aizen knew he was here, which meant he knew what Ichimaru Gin had done. Why was he even bothering…? “So … Aizen is threatening you with arrancar?”
“Not me. This was never about me,” Urahara waved him off as if the notion was ridiculous. “I just happened to be the way, and now I just happen to be in the way again. I’m afraid I’m in the way quite often.”
“What are you saying?”
“Aizen’s little ruse, plainly and simply, means one thing and one thing only,” he replied, his eyes still shaded by the rim of his bucket hat. “Aizen wants to join the game.”
Hitsugaya couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The game is over. I’m already as good as dead.”
“Tsk, tsk, Hitsugaya-kun,” Urahara smirked knowingly, swinging the cane out in front of the small boy’s chest. “That’s the best kind of person to play with.”
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.
“In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.”
-Pliny the Elder
~*~
Chapter Eighteen
Dodging the Depths
~*~
Urahara was once again alone in his workshop, grinning from ear to ear. This time, however, it wasn’t because of any invention he’d created or any thoughts of testing such a device on one of his many guests. He was grinning in anticipation. Matsumoto’s reiatsu had just strolled into the shop, and he was more than ready to open up the precious package he had sent her to retrieve.
The door opened, the woman trotted down the stares, and he reached out his hand. Then she promptly took a seat, glaring him down from across his work desk. There was nothing in his hand. He looked inquisitively at his still outstretched arm before turning his head to face his companion. The small box was set neatly in her lap, just out of his reach. An amusing sensation of déjà vu overcame him as he slowly leaned back in his own seat, propping his arms against the back of the chair.
Rangiku’s luscious lips were set in a full pout, her ash gray eyes locked on him in utter determination. He smirked.
Aw. She was so cute when she was trying to be serious. “Well? Did you have fun?” he intoned brightly.
“I met Taichou today,” she replied, quite the opposite to Urahara’s sunny demeanor. “He let me take him out for ice cream.”
“Was it any good? You should have brought some back for me,” came the return whine.
Rangiku dutifully ignored him. “What did you do to him this time?”
“Whatever could you mean?”
“I’m not stupid!” she growled, her hands grasping the box in her lap, nails just digging into the crudely wrapped edges. “Isshin comes charging in with the very Quincy he was sent to kill twenty years ago, carrying Taichou around like some … some corpse! And then when he’s okay, the first thing Taichou does is run into me without even realizing it’s me and agree to eating ice cream! Ice cream! With gummy bears on top! I know you know about everything that’s been happening! You’re behind most of it! You don’t even try to hide it! So what did you do to him?”
“I’ve already told you, Rangiku-chan,” Urahara sighed. “I’ve done nothing but uphold my end of the bargain. Now that everything’s been settled, you won’t need to worry about me messing with your precious taichou any longer.”
Matsumoto paused, her shoulders tensing. “What do you mean everything’s been settled?”
“We’ve completed our deal, Rangiku-chan. Now there’s only one thing left I promised to do for him.”
“And what would that be?” she trailed suspiciously. He hadn’t really answered her first question, but she knew that if she hadn’t gotten an answer out of him yet, she wouldn’t be getting it at all. She’d have to ask Hitsugaya himself what was wrong. It wasn’t something she looked forward to.
Why wasn’t simple loyalty ever enough? Why did she always have to worry so much about him as her taichou stubbornly continued to walk around pretending that everything was okay?
“Isn’t that obvious?” the man chirped, enjoying the shift in control of the conversation. “Tonight you start work on mastering your bankai.”
The impact of this statement was sufficient enough to distract her from his greedy hands, and so while her eyes widened in comprehension, he snagged the box and sat back down. Unfortunately, she was too far gone to even complain about his smugness, and that ruined his fun. He watched her eyes glaze over and let out a sigh. Geez. He hadn’t expected her to overreact this much. She’d been the one to ask for it, after all. Why was she so surprised? Oh, well. He knew ways of making people talk (and had invented several new ones throughout the years as well). He’d gotten his package. Now it was time to indulge.
And so, with Matsumoto still sitting right across from him, he opened the small box and shamelessly produced a very inappropriate, very showy magazine.
For several seconds, time seemed to have halted. Then Rangiku burst forward, launching herself over the desk to snatch the magazine out of Urahara’s hand. His knowing smirk reached all new levels of self-satisfaction. “This is what you’ve had me carting around all this time? Dirty magazines?!” she shouted in disbelief, waving the rolled up piece of literature inches in front of the salesman’s nose. “This is what’s supposed to help Taichou!?”
“My dear, sweet Rangiku. Have a little faith, ne?” he chided lightly, stopping the wild movements of the magazine with his pointer and middle fingers. “This is merely the icing on the cake. A little joke between friends. Understand?”
“Not in the least.”
Pulling the magazine out of her grip with the aforementioned fingers, he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for and held it out so that she could see. On the page, in bold, familiar handwriting, were the words, “Page 24, 4:00PM.”
She stared at the message blankly for a moment before daring to ask, “How long until four o’clock?”
“Exactly fifteen seconds,” the man grinned.
With that, he turned to the specified page, and the moment his obnoxious cuckoo clock struck four, a hell butterfly fluttered out from the center of the spread. It floated daintily in place for the remainder of the cuckoo’s three chimes, but the moment they ceased it landed atop Urahara’s hand. One second of silence, two seconds, three seconds, four…
Then: “Oi! Kiiisssuukkeee!! You there?!”
Rangiku would have recognized that inebriated voice from anywhere. Her gray eyes widened in utter disbelief. Urahara Kisuke had been talking to these people all along, and he’d never told her, they’d never come. What the hell was that bastard doing?! In an instant, she’d pushed Urahara out of the way so that she could yell into the hell butterfly.
“Kyouraku-taichou! Kyouraku-taichou! Don’t believe anything he says! You have to tell Yamamoto-soutaichou! It’s not Hitsugaya-taichou’s fault! He’s not a traitor! He was attacked and couldn’t stay in Seireitei or he’d die! Even Yamamoto-soutaichou would have to agree Taichou’s worth more alive than dead! Just send Unohana-taichou to Karakura, and this whole mess will be cleared up in no time! Please!”
“Rangiku-chan?” prompted another voice, this one not nearly as loud or obnoxious as its counterpart. “What are you doing here?”
“Ukitake-taichou! Please, just tell them!” She whirled around, eyes practically flaming as they settled on the widely grinning be-hatted salesman. Not just one shinigami taichou, but two?! “Have you been in contact with Seireitei this whole time?!”
“Ran-chan,” returned Kyouraku-taichou’s voice. “Calm down, sweetheart. Just listen a bit, and we’ll-”
“What did you call me?!” She had the frantic butterfly in hand, more than ready to chuck it right to the ground.
“Rangiku! Kisuke isn’t in contact with the Seireitei!”
When she heard Ukitake’s frantic interruption, Matsumoto fell back into Urahara’s seat. Kisuke removed his hat, dusting it absently as he stood straight, plucking the hell butterfly from the young woman’s palm.
Ukitake’s voice continued after a moment. His tone was strained, obviously not happy about what he had to say. “Rangiku-chan, what we’re doing right now is illegal by Seireitei law. The only way a shinigami can speak with an exile is with both Yamamoto-soutaichou’s permission and attendance, but if we ask for his consent, he will know Hitsugaya-kun’s location and will see no need to hear Kisuke out at all. The only reason we haven’t sent men to retrieve him as of yet is because you haven’t reported sighting him. Do you understand? As soon as he’s learned Hitsugaya-kun’s location, he’ll have no choice but to force Hitsugaya-kun to return to Seireitei for questioning. And you as well.”
“He can’t go back to Seireitei,” she replied weakly.
“Exactly,” Urahara pouted. “Which is why he’s still here, ne? Don’t worry so much. I’m not that untrustworthy.”
A round of hearty chuckling followed this statement as Kyouraku made a gulping sound that was suspiciously similar to the sound of guzzling sake. “We talked to Retsu-san about all of it just a few days ago. She’s ready to take him in the moment you need her.” Rangiku could practically see the large smile crawling across the man’s wet lips. “But Juushirou here decided against talkin’ with grumpy pants Byakuya ‘cause he didn’t want to drag the poor guy into another fiasco after he went and helped Renji and his little sister get out of Seireitei and all.”
“I’m sorry, Rangiku,” Ukitake sighed. “I wish we could do more, but in the midst of preparation for war, there’s so little time to get anything done at all. And now all of Soul Society is on edge since Aizen sent his so-called messenger.”
Rangiku sat up, leaning in. She was beginning to wonder just how many more surprises she could take. There had to be a limit at some point. “Aizen … sent a messenger?”
Urahara made a distinct clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head as he did so. “I should have known. He’s been delaying, after all. Who did he send, and what did he have to say to our precious Genryuusai?”
“So far all he’s done is propose … an exchange. Yamamoto-soutaichou hasn’t given his reply as of yet, but…” Ukitake let loose a heavy sigh. “His messenger is an arrancar of no importance. Aizen isn’t stupid enough to send in someone we could use. He was reduced to his knees as soon as Yamamoto-soutaichou released his reiatsu. But the message wasn’t quite as easy to ignore.”
“Just spit it out, Juushirou. All this suspense is bad for the sake,” Shunsui scolded lightly. “The messenger came to say that Aizen heard about what happened and that if we handed over little Toushirou-kun, he’d be willing to let Seireitei decide the battlefield first before tryin’ to run off to Karakura to suck up all the souls he’s been lustin’ after.”
“That’s impossible! You just said-”
“Now, now, sit tight,” Urahara held Rangiku’s shoulder and pushed her back into his chair. His usual mischievous grin had disappeared, replaced with an agitated frown. He had been expecting something like this. He just hadn’t been expecting … this. This was very, very bad for his little, white crowned ward. “Aizen doesn’t need to make any deals with Seireitei to get his hands on Hitsugaya-kun. He knows exactly where the kid is, and he knows that Yamamoto doesn’t. It’s a ruse to make himself appear ignorant and Hitsugaya appear guilty. A stalling technique, perhaps, or even just another way to mess with our heads.”
“So he’s not interested in Hitsugaya-kun then?” Ukitake intoned cautiously. “Didn’t you inform us that it was through his means that…?”
Rangiku frowned but said nothing. Urahara still looked rather grim. “Oh, he’s interested, all right. If he wasn’t, he would have simply left it to its own devices. Instead he’s needlessly prodding the flames.” No, Urahara frowned. Aizen never did anything needlessly. “Let them hold their negotiations for now. Aizen isn’t stupid, but neither is Yamamoto; if he was, he wouldn’t be soutaichou.”
“Well, we knew that, but it’s surprising to hear it coming from you, Kisuke,” Kyouraku-taichou intoned dryly.
“I don’t have time to deal with old geezers or fake promises,” he waved away the man’s comment. “I don’t need any more annoyances than I already have. Hitsugaya-kun is bother enough on his own. Honestly, you shinigami and your false accusations.”
“Then we’ll leave him in your capable hands,” Ukitake replied sincerely. “Thank you, Kisuke.”
“Not as if we have much choice,” Kyouraku-taichou concluded.
With that, the hell butterfly dissolved.
Hitsugaya Toushirou trudged grudgingly through the hallway of Urahara’s house, having arrived with Matsumoto but been unwilling to talk to the knowing blonde again so soon. Instead, he had opted to head down to the underground facility. He could feel Kurosaki and Kuchiki’s flaring reiatsu long before he saw them, and he didn’t want to know what had started this particular fight any more than he wanted to know what had started all of the others.
He just wanted to see who had won.
Ah, Kuchiki then.
He stood there silently for a moment as the two continued on with their bout. Well, he wasn’t sure it could even be considered that much anymore. Rukia was situated atop Kurosaki’s back, the redhead’s stomach being pinned to the ground, as she grappled with one of his legs, pulling it back much farther than it would ever be able to go through natural means. He was screaming bloody murder while she goaded him in triumph, something about saying ‘uncle’ and answering questions with actual answers.
“Ahem,” he finally coughed into his palm, and the two violent teenagers paused their rampage in surprise.
“Hitsugaya-taichou!” Kuchiki hastily caught herself, jumping off of Kurosaki to offer the former taichou a small, respectful bow. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t…”
The crumpled heap that had been beneath her pulled himself up into a sitting position, glad to be free. “Thanks, Toushirou! You seriously saved my-”
“Quiet, you!” Rukia asserted with a swift kick in between Kurosaki’s legs. Even Hitsugaya couldn’t hold back a small wince as the redheaded teen fell back again.
But if they hadn’t noticed him, then that meant that Urahara’s collar was working. It was disbursing his reiatsu and therefore making him less of a giant, red target. That was progress at least. Although the feeling of the substitute’s reiatsu, even though it was fairly well controlled, didn’t make things any easier. That was one detail he didn’t plan on leaking to any of them. If they realized that it was their reiatsu as well as his that had contributed to his two months being cut clean in half…
He didn’t want to think about it.
Instead he focused on Kuchiki Rukia’s questioning stare. She’d gone from thrashing Kurosaki, to stiff politeness, to space cadet in the span of a minute. “…Yes?” he hazarded.
“Ah, er … Hitsugaya-taichou,” she began hesitantly, but when she turned and saw Kurosaki still twitching on the floor, she whirled back around, determined. “I know something’s wrong, Hitsugaya-taichou. And Renji does too. You don’t have to hide it from us. We know you didn’t leave Seireitei under orders, but so what? You helped us leave against orders. So, please. We can’t repay our debt to you unless you tell us how we can help.”
Hitsugaya slowly, deliberately, turned to face Kurosaki, his hand inching toward his zanpakutou. “I didn’t tell her anything!” the teenager growled, his voice hoarse. “She had me in a friggin’ headlock, and I didn’t tell her anything! So don’t go pinning this on me!” But then he suddenly turned to Rukia, seeming to forget about the pain in his nether regions as he waved a hand to halt the conversation.
“Wait a second. Time out. Did you just say he helped you and Renji leave Soul Society? I thought you said Byakuya did it!”
“Well, yes,” Rukia replied, waiting to see if Hitsugaya had anything to say on the matter. When he remained silent, she finished, “Nii-sama was the one who got us back to Karakura, but Hitsugaya-taichou … helped.”
Now Kurosaki was staring at him too. Just great. “Uh, thanks, I guess,” the substitute shinigami replied awkwardly. “I thought you, like, never broke the rules.”
In response, he received a frigid glare that spoke clearer than any words ever could. I’m here, aren’t I? He was all for keeping order, but he wasn’t Kuchiki-taichou, and even that man had gone against Seireitei’s laws a fair few times recently. “I didn’t do anything at all. I doubt anyone would have tried to stop you anyway,” he huffed.
Rukia just smiled.
She couldn’t believe it.
After all of the time she’d spend in Karakura, after everything she’d seen, she was stuck back here in Seireitei while Ichigo moped around in the living realm. Their plea to save Orihime having been denied, the shinigami stationed in Karakura had had no choice but to return, their every move scrutinized by Zaraki-taichou and her Nii-sama. And now she was stuck, having no other way to vent her frustrations than going through her motions with her zanpakutou again and again, imagining the faces of the Espada on the other end of her blade.
“Rukia…”
The shinigami whirled around at the familiar voice, blinking in surprise at Renji’s face hovering anxiously outside the door of the empty Thirteenth Division dojo. Her eyes widened when she saw who was with him.
“Come,” beckoned Kuchiki Byakuya.
She didn’t hesitate. The three of them walked for some distance before stopping. Rukia frowned. They were in an open area, barren of plant life or buildings. She recognized it as the Tenth Division training grounds. Why were they here? She turned her inquisitive gaze to Renji, but he looked just as perplexed as she did.
Until Nii-sama offered them two cloaks and a hell butterfly. Rukia’s eyes widened in comprehension. Nii-sama … was letting them go back? She looked up at him, his apathetic features revealing nothing, and she smiled. “Thank you, Nii-sama,” she whispered.
“Hi-Hitsugaya-taichou!” came a surprised gasp from her left.
She turned to see Renji staring at the approaching Tenth Division taichou and nearly cringed. They’d just waltzed right into the Tenth Division training grounds! Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou would have noticed! What sort of excuse could they possibly come up with for that? She was about to ask her brother himself, but froze when she saw him.
He was looking directly at Hitsugaya-taichou as if he was just waiting for him to approach. The closer the small taichou came, the more butterflies she could feel running circles around her stomach, but those little butterflies quickly became angry wasps when the boy withdrew his zanpakutou. Why would he do that before he even interrogated them? They hadn’t even done anything wrong yet?! Hitsugaya-taichou had been there in Karakura too. How could he just keep walking toward them so calmly, holding that blade in his hand? His reiatsu was bursting to the brim, and he hadn’t even called on his shikai. What was he playing at? He was right in front of them by now.
“Hitsugaya-taichou.”
“Kuchiki-taichou.”
The two nodded politely to each other, and Hitsugaya walked right past them. Rukia and Renji nearly collapsed from the release of tension. They both whirled around just in time to see the young taichou stop walking several meters away from them and release his shikai. The energy produced from the summon filled the air with dense, frigid power, but though Rukia and Renji were both stunned, her Nii-sama remained unaffected.
Taking the boy’s release as a cue, he muttered a few words under his breath. The hell butterfly obediently opened a gateway to the living realm. He turned to the two shinigami matter-of-factly. “Urahara Kisuke will be waiting for you,” he said simply. Rukia wanted nothing more than to hug him, but she held herself back, instead turning to Hitsugaya.
His intense reiatsu completely masked both theirs and the gateway’s energy. No one would realize their reiatsu had left Seireitei until Hitsugaya-taichou resealed Hyourinmaru. “W-Why…?” she was just able to hear Renji stutter.
The white crowned taichou didn’t waver, didn’t even turn around. “If you think you’re the only ones who know Inoue is innocent, then you’re stupider than I give you credit for.”
Rukia didn’t bother to argue. She nodded to her brother, wrapping the cloak around her before grabbing Renji’s arm and leaping through the opening.
They had no time to waste.
“There isn’t any sort of debt that needs to be repaid, so don’t worry about it,” Hitsugaya asserted for the umpteenth time.
This time’s results were no better than any of the others. “I don’t care,” Rukia grunted. “I want to help anyway. All of us do. You’re not really a taichou anymore, right? You can’t push us away by pulling rank.”
“Rukia, let it be. The brat doesn’t want any help,” Kurosaki grumbled from his spot behind Kuchiki. The two had been following him around relentlessly. He’d tried running away, fighting back, even hiding, but they always caught up to him. It was driving him mad. First that annoying girl, and now this?
“Not brat,” the ex-taichou seethed. “Hitsugaya-taichou!”
“Well, you’re sure acting like a brat right now. I haven't told her what’s going on because I promised I wouldn’t, but if she already knows something’s up, why are you still hiding it?” the high school delinquent scolded him. Scolded him! When would they just shut up?! “The way I see it, the more people you have helping you, the better chance you have of getting out of this mess. That’s why you came to Getaboushi’s in the first place, right?”
“Hitsugaya-taichou, we won’t hold it against you, whatever your reason is. I don’t care if you say we don’t owe you anything. I know we still do. You helped us, so let us help you.” At Hitsugaya’s silence, she smiled sweetly. “Or else I’ll make sure you end up in such a horrible condition that you’ll have no choice but to ask for our help.”
Where had his authority gone, for goodness sake? Kuchiki Rukia had only just discovered his rank was caput, and she was already making threats. This was ridiculous! He turned around to face his two newest shadows, his expression showing every bit of annoyance he was experiencing. “If you don’t shut up right now…”
He never finished. The look on Kurosaki’s face made him stop. The substitute’s scowl had thinned into a determined line. There was no point in finishing his threat. This was Kurosaki’s way of saying that he wasn’t going to go through with his promise. He was going to tell Kuchiki right here and now. He didn’t care about Hitsugaya’s threats any longer.
“I guess a couple of arrancar jumped up on their porch steps while we were in Hueco Mundo. One of them gave Toushirou here a nasty bite on his back and told him that it was from crazy, fox-faced taichou. The wound messed him up, and now he’s got electro-poison wave thingies going through his body. He couldn’t stay in Soul Society, or else they’d fry him, so he’s playing the guy’s sick game so he can get help from Getaboushi.”
Rukia’s violet orbs were wide with disbelief. “I-Is that true…?”
Hitsugaya was very nearly beyond words. His mind was racing with so many unintelligible thoughts that he couldn’t interpret any of them at all. Finally, he just had to shut it down. He couldn’t keep doing this. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Yes,” he replied, his voice leveled into a soft, steady monotone. “But none of that matters anymore.”
“And why not?” Kurosaki countered instantly.
Hitsugaya only walked out of the room, leaving them behind with a simple, three word answer.
“Because I lost.”
He hadn’t walked more than a few meters before he heard that oh-so-familiar voice that he had come down here to avoid in the first place.
“It’s time.”
“Is Matsumoto ready?” he asked coldly, looking Urahara Kisuke in the eye.
The cane-toting salesman smirked, pulling his hat down so that it shaded his eyes as they walked. “This wasn’t my idea,” he taunted. “Why’re you asking me?”
“Because you were just talking to her,” Hitsugaya replied, refusing to take the man’s bait.
Urahara shook his head disapprovingly. “About that… It seems Aizen’s up to something. We just shared a lovely conversation about it in my work shop. It involved a great deal of angry yelling and pushing,” he whined, swinging the cane absently at his side. “He called up Seireitei and asked if they had any extra Ten Division taichou in stock.”
It took a moment for Hitsugaya to translate this into something that made sense. “Aizen Sousuke … asked for me?”
“A trade. You for some happier hunting grounds.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Hitsugaya frowned.
“Nope, it doesn’t,” the blonde man grinned. “By asking Seireitei to hand you over, he makes himself seem like he doesn’t know where you are. That alone proves that he knows exactly where you are. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have pulled such a pointless stunt. What Aizen’s telling us is that he really is the one behind that untraceable hollow. He’s been watching us.”
“Which means he can send more of those hollows whenever he feels like it,” Hitsugaya finished lamely.
“Hitsugaya-kun, the hollow you encountered was obviously sent for nothing more than observational purposes. If he intends to get in our way, there’s a high probability that he isn’t going to send a couple of normal hollows next time.”
The boy’s frown deepened in contemplation. Aizen knew he was here, which meant he knew what Ichimaru Gin had done. Why was he even bothering…? “So … Aizen is threatening you with arrancar?”
“Not me. This was never about me,” Urahara waved him off as if the notion was ridiculous. “I just happened to be the way, and now I just happen to be in the way again. I’m afraid I’m in the way quite often.”
“What are you saying?”
“Aizen’s little ruse, plainly and simply, means one thing and one thing only,” he replied, his eyes still shaded by the rim of his bucket hat. “Aizen wants to join the game.”
Hitsugaya couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The game is over. I’m already as good as dead.”
“Tsk, tsk, Hitsugaya-kun,” Urahara smirked knowingly, swinging the cane out in front of the small boy’s chest. “That’s the best kind of person to play with.”