Chapter Fourteen
“Ugly, isn’t it?” she asked flippantly, as if speaking of the weather. “It used to be worse. A couple of the healers emptied their stomachs when they first saw it. I guess none of them could picture me with such a disfigurement.”
~*~
Chapter Fourteen
Crossing the Line
~*~
Hanatarou Yamada was finally getting comfortable again. It wasn't that he blamed Unohana; he just never knew what to do in those situations. Even now he wasn't sure whether he should tell Hitsugaya. Unohana hadn't actually forced him to say anything. She'd figured it out on her own, and she didn't seem to harbor any anger toward him. She was trying to protect her companions, just like Hitsugaya was trying to protect him and everyone else back home.
Hanatarou would never fault someone else for his own cowardice.
He did have to wonder what Hitsugaya was doing though. Abarai had seemed to think he and Miss Rangiku would be talking for a very long time, but it already had been a very long time. The pirate captain and the royal servant had been doing nothing but talking the entire day, the sun long since having set below the water.
The prince was falling asleep where he stood by the time he heard the tell-tale footsteps. Well, they were more akin to stomps. Hastily rubbing at his tired eyes, he looked up to see Hitsugaya unexpectedly grim and tense. He was almost always grim and tense, but during what Hanatarou had seen of their talk, Hitsugaya had actually looked like he might be starting to relax. The pale-haired man only offered a single nod before marching right past Hanatarou, and he wordlessly followed.
The two rounded several corners before coming to a storage room. Hitsugaya slammed the door behind them, locking them in with nothing but crates of non-perishables and barrels of alcohol to eavesdrop.
The agitated servant immediately began to pace.
"She's trying to seduce me."
Hanatarou attempted to process this information. It didn't work. "What?"
"I thought it was just her nature. The closer she came to her goal, the more obnoxious she became. I thought she must have acted that way with everyone. But she doesn't. She was always angry when I implied she slept around, and yet she's doing this. It makes no sense. She even wants to remain in contact after the trade, as if that were possible. She is nothing but improper and indecent and nosy, and she's trying to seduce me!"
"Y-You mean Miss Rangiku?"
"Who else could I mean?" Hitsugaya nearly roared as he whirled around to glare at his companion. His pacing was only accelerating, his movements coming in frantic jerks, one hand massaging his forehead for dear life.
Hanatarou Yamada recognized the onset of a fit when he saw one, but this one wasn't too bad yet. He could fix this. Somehow.
"Th-That just means she likes you, right? It doesn't mean-"
"Yamada."
Hanatarou froze the moment he realized Hitsugaya had done the same.
"She dismissed me by saying she needed to bathe." A pointed pause. "Then she told me to meet her in the captain's cabin come midnight."
"…Oh," the prince whispered. He didn't know what else to say. Where was this coming from? What was happening? No one could make him as confused as these pirates.
"She's trying to control me."
Scratch that.
Yamada's eyes widened as he stared in shock at Hitsugaya. As good as it was to see his companion calming down on his own, this was most definitely not the conclusion he'd been hoping for.
"Miss Rangiku isn't like King Aizen!" he insisted, his voice breaking half-way through making him sound like some mouse and ruining the effect. Hitsugaya had just agreed to an alliance. This had just started seeming okay. They were hostages, but only in the loosest of terms. If they could just work together… "Sh-She just… She just l-likes you."
"You're right. She isn't like Aizen. Which means I can use this to my advantage." He was back to pacing, though he was less visibly disturbed, his steps following a consistent rhythm. "All I'd have to do is ask for a concession directly afterward. If she wants to maintain her reputation, she'll have no choice but to comply. If I force her to send me as messenger, then not only do they lose a bargaining chip, but my forces as well as those Aizen will bring with him will be enough to wipe out the whole ship."
Hanatarou could only gape. "Y-You just said you didn't want them to be executed! How could you-"
"This trade was never going to work. From the beginning, someone was going to have to pay for that woman's stupidity. It won't be us," Hitsugaya growled.
"N-No! I c-can't let you do that! If Kurosaki were here he'd throw you across the room!"
"Kurosaki isn't here, Yamada. At the end of the day, not even his damned hero complex can save everyone."
Hanatarou rushed for the door when he saw Hitsugaya reach for the wooden plank locking them inside. "Why did you change your mind? What's wrong, Hitsugaya? I don't-"
His words caught in his throat when Hitsugaya's fist met his gut, and he doubled over, curling into a pitiful, pained ball on the floor.
"She has no feelings for me, and I have none for her. I'll watch them die. It's easier than the alternative."
Yamada watched through wet, squinting eyes as Hitsugaya's feet tapped quietly out of the room.
~*~
The man was eternally smug, Gin Ichimaru decided as he swirled the last vestiges of wine in the bottom of his chalice. Whatever the man was reading now, it only doubled the effect. Which meant it probably had something to do with Ran. He really should ask about it, but he had the distinct feeling that he wasn't drunk enough to deal with the answer. He quickly silenced the thought by draining the cup.
"What'cha readin' there?"
"The reason why we're here, of course," caressed the smooth, suave voice. "The official notice that informed me I needed to make haste to Port Ressurección if I ever wished to see my youngest son again. Did you know there are two signatures? One is from a Captain Rangiku Matsumoto of the ship Narcissus. The other … is Isshin Kurosaki."
A single silver brow arched at the confirmation. "My, my. If he signed it himself, he must be pretty excited 'bout it."
"It means, Gin, that he has so little faith in your crew that he feels he must add the weight of his own reputation to their cause."
King Sousuke Aizen dropped the parchment, letting it flutter lightly until it hit the ornate table situated between royalty and prisoner. Though if the lack of restraints were anything to go by, Gin Ichimaru was no longer the prisoner he had been a week ago. In fact, while lounging in this lavishly furnished room with the king of Hueco Mundo, he appeared no less the royalty his companion was - bathed, protected by flowing, colorful clothing, and sipping wine from a bejeweled chalice while spread out over a thick layer of pillows and blankets.
"Unfortunately, that was his biggest mistake."
Gin's masking smirk grew, though he hid it behind his empty chalice. "'Cause he never coulda guessed I'd spill the good news, hm?" he chimed, determinedly unaffected by Aizen's taunting. "Though I 'spose it doesn' matter much. I bet yer little boy is havin' fun tearing my crew apart from the inside out. Ya must've trained him well."
"Have you as little faith as Kurosaki?" The smile that Ichimaru had grown to recognize returned to the king's full lips - that polite, enchanting smile that bled excrement and spoke of nothing but sadism and power. "Well, if you're in a betting mood, why not strike a wager? I propose that young Toushirou will grow attached to your exotic beauty among beasts and will decide his only option is to come begging for my aid."
"An' ya say I'm the one with no faith."
"On the contrary, Gin. I have the utmost faith in him. After all, I've trained him well."
The twisted recycling of Gin's own words left him with an unpleasantly crisp mental image of just what sort of training such a result would entail. "Treatin' yer prisoners like royalty, an' yer royalty like prisoners, huh?" he chuckled to himself before continuing louder. "Well, that's all well an' good, but I got nothin' ta bet with."
"Very well then. If I win, you will accompany me while on the docks."
"An' if ya lose?'
King Aizen waved his hand dismissively, explaining in a single motion that he was confident enough to let Gin choose.
"If ya lose, I get another taste o' this delicious wine," Ichimaru smiled brilliantly.
Aizen returned the favor, though somehow he still looked polite and presentable while Ichimaru could do nothing but appear as a lowly demon, making a deal with the devil. "As you wish."
"But in that case, I'm changin' my bet. I think Ran'll figure out yer little scheme before yer boy can do any harm at all."
At that, the forever composed man clutched his stomach and laughed. "Then I've already won!" he asserted, his tone as well as his body language disturbingly jovial. "Causing harm is within his very nature. He does try to right his wrongs, but…" He turned to his prisoner, his guest, his partner in crime, making sure the man's gaze directly matched his own.
"When one tries so hard to save the world, one often forgets to save one's self."
~*~
Hitsugaya stood quiet but determined outside the door to the captain's cabin, collecting his thoughts and preparing for what he was about to do.
Again and again. She swung those hips, ran her fingers along her thigh, constantly pushed her way into Hitsugaya's personal space. Again and again. She found reasons for them to talk, called him that ridiculous nickname, listened raptly to every story he told and every little detail that spewed from his lips. Again and again. She smiled, she yelled, she shook his hand.
It wasn't want that drove him, no. He didn't want to use her or enjoy her or see how she reacted. He didn't want anything to do with her. It was never want that drove him. It was necessity. He had always done what was necessary, and he would continue to do so without remorse or regret. He had to survive. It was necessary, so he would survive.
Even if it meant doing something as ridiculous as this. This wasn't his doing though. She was the one requesting it. She would be her own downfall. It only proved that she deserved her fate, if she was willing to trust him.
After a moment, he rapped on the door.
The sight that met him when the door slid open was astonishing. The pirate captain had indeed bathed, a warm moisture still clinging to her and the thin clothing she'd likely thrown on only minutes before. Flimsy red fabric revealed ample cleavage and slim, curved shoulders. For the first time, Toushirou Hitsugaya saw Rangiku Matsumoto in a dress, the slit from ankle to thigh revealing one defined and well-toned leg. Despite all her efforts to show off her body, which certainly deserved showing off, the head gear remained, waves of dark material falling into her eyes and over her hair - still wet and weighted down.
She gave him a few seconds to regain his bearings and enter the room before shutting the door behind him and locking it in place.
"You know why I called you here, don't you?" she asked.
"Well…" the royal servant trailed off as she pushed herself off the door and made her way toward him, "I have an idea."
As soon as she reached him, she wrapped her hands around his shoulders and pushed him toward her chair, kicking it out to allow him to sit. Hands slowly began to massage his shoulders and upper back. He wasn't about to complain, but he wasn't sure why she was doing it either.
"You need to relax, Hitsugaya. You're so tense that I get uncomfortable whenever you enter the room," the woman explained lightly. "I thought we could talk about something other than the trade for a little while, loosen you up a little before you keel over from the stress."
Her hands gradually moved lower, from his shoulders to his upper back to his middle back, dexterous fingers unknotting every inch of flesh from beneath his shirt. He moved with her unconsciously, the relief welling up in the back of his throat even as her hair fell into his face and she leaned directly over him.
"So what would you like to talk about?"
Talk? While feeling like this? It seemed like a damn shame, but he managed it. "I thought you said I could only dream of being the men you went to bed with."
This massage was only a pre-text, and they both knew it, but Matsumoto didn't stop when he accused her. She only leaned over further to meet Hitsugaya's eyes with her own. They were steadfast as she answered. "You're not as horrible as you pretend to be, you know. After a few days, I started to think it was kind of cute."
"And now you perceive me to be worthy of your time."
"Maybe you're not the only one who's tense, hm?"
At that confession, Hitsugaya was actually surprised, surprised enough to focus on it above the feel of her hands on his back. "You're the only one on this ship who seems to think your plan will work. Why are you the tense one?"
She huffed, pressing particularly hard against his spine in revenge. Satisfied at his hiss, she confessed. "You're not the only one who can pretend either." Her shoulders slumped into his, her chin resting on his forehead. He didn't react, so she continued. "I'm the captain of this whole damn ship. Everyone on it, no matter what they actually think, is going to follow my orders, no matter how ridiculous. I can't… I can't just tell them that I don't believe in my own choice, that … sometimes I see Gin, late at night, and I don't know whether I'm dreaming or if I'm actually seeing his ghost. I don't even know if he's alive; how can I know that we'll be alive when this is all over?"
He looked up at her, teal green eyes hiding something within their depths that Rangiku had still yet to decipher. "Why tell me?"
"Because," she smiled sadly, "I see you staring at your own ghosts every day."
Hitsugaya felt something melt inside of him. He wasn't sure what it was, but it burned. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between them, pressing into her lips like he belonged there. She returned his gesture, arms pulling away from his back and around to his front, pushing his shirt down as they ran along his chest. His callused hands moved to wrap around her neck, gliding upward until they reached the edge of the head piece at her forehead.
The moment he began to slip it off, she grabbed his wrist. For a few seconds, Hitsugaya thought she was finished, but then she reached beneath it and began to remove several small pins that must have been holding it in place. As she gently removed it, she ran a hand through her drying lockes, and Hitsugaya found himself questioning why she would ever hide herself like that.
Until he noticed it. In a jagged curve from the edge of her left brow over her ear and around the back of her head was a horrible burn mark. No doubt it had been third degree, blistering and boiling red when new. It had mellowed into a painfully sensitive pink since, and no hair grew upon its length. No hair ever would again.
"Ugly, isn't it?" she asked flippantly, as if speaking of the weather. "It used to be worse. A couple of the healers emptied their stomachs when they first saw it. I guess none of them could picture me with such a disfigurement."
But Hitsugaya refused to recoil at the sight. Instead he stood up and pushed forward again, reaching up to trail his fingers along the edge of the mark, where soft flesh and inflamed scar tissue met. "I have had to walk among men and women who hide behind powdered wigs and face paint all my life. Those are the real disfigurements. This only proves you've done something worth telling."
She was quiet for a moment before moving closer. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me want to laugh and cry at the same time."
Why was she telling him all of this? She obviously hadn't divulged this information to anyone else. Her own crew members didn't know what he knew. He was the only one.
And he liked it.
He wanted to be the only one who knew these things. He wanted her to tell him more, he wanted to hear more about her. He wanted to feel her, to understand her in every way possible.
He wanted her.
She dove for his lips, and he pressed her against the wall, hungry tongues invading each others privacy, searching for a dominance they never found in their anarchical dance. He caressed her shoulders, palms gliding along the flesh until they found the cloth that hid her chest from him. He forced it down to her elbows as she planted her hands on his chest once more, riding his shirt up while hers tumbled down.
Only when they broke from the kiss did he reach for her breast, squeezing the yielding fat between his fingers as his lips found purchase along the side of her neck. She moved against him brilliantly, letting loose a pleased moan.
"Just for tonight," she whispered into his ear. "Just for tonight, I'm all yours."
"Everything you will ever own…"
Hitsugaya froze, and Matsumoto took it as her cue to throw in a few kisses herself.
"Everything you will ever love, and everything you will ever hate…"
Hastily, he jerked away from her touch, pushing her into the wall as he stepped back.
"They are all mine."
And as Rangiku watched, half undressed and dazed beyond comprehensive thought, Toushirou Hitsugaya ran.
~*~
Chapter Fourteen End
~*~
~*~
Chapter Fourteen
Crossing the Line
~*~
Hanatarou Yamada was finally getting comfortable again. It wasn't that he blamed Unohana; he just never knew what to do in those situations. Even now he wasn't sure whether he should tell Hitsugaya. Unohana hadn't actually forced him to say anything. She'd figured it out on her own, and she didn't seem to harbor any anger toward him. She was trying to protect her companions, just like Hitsugaya was trying to protect him and everyone else back home.
Hanatarou would never fault someone else for his own cowardice.
He did have to wonder what Hitsugaya was doing though. Abarai had seemed to think he and Miss Rangiku would be talking for a very long time, but it already had been a very long time. The pirate captain and the royal servant had been doing nothing but talking the entire day, the sun long since having set below the water.
The prince was falling asleep where he stood by the time he heard the tell-tale footsteps. Well, they were more akin to stomps. Hastily rubbing at his tired eyes, he looked up to see Hitsugaya unexpectedly grim and tense. He was almost always grim and tense, but during what Hanatarou had seen of their talk, Hitsugaya had actually looked like he might be starting to relax. The pale-haired man only offered a single nod before marching right past Hanatarou, and he wordlessly followed.
The two rounded several corners before coming to a storage room. Hitsugaya slammed the door behind them, locking them in with nothing but crates of non-perishables and barrels of alcohol to eavesdrop.
The agitated servant immediately began to pace.
"She's trying to seduce me."
Hanatarou attempted to process this information. It didn't work. "What?"
"I thought it was just her nature. The closer she came to her goal, the more obnoxious she became. I thought she must have acted that way with everyone. But she doesn't. She was always angry when I implied she slept around, and yet she's doing this. It makes no sense. She even wants to remain in contact after the trade, as if that were possible. She is nothing but improper and indecent and nosy, and she's trying to seduce me!"
"Y-You mean Miss Rangiku?"
"Who else could I mean?" Hitsugaya nearly roared as he whirled around to glare at his companion. His pacing was only accelerating, his movements coming in frantic jerks, one hand massaging his forehead for dear life.
Hanatarou Yamada recognized the onset of a fit when he saw one, but this one wasn't too bad yet. He could fix this. Somehow.
"Th-That just means she likes you, right? It doesn't mean-"
"Yamada."
Hanatarou froze the moment he realized Hitsugaya had done the same.
"She dismissed me by saying she needed to bathe." A pointed pause. "Then she told me to meet her in the captain's cabin come midnight."
"…Oh," the prince whispered. He didn't know what else to say. Where was this coming from? What was happening? No one could make him as confused as these pirates.
"She's trying to control me."
Scratch that.
Yamada's eyes widened as he stared in shock at Hitsugaya. As good as it was to see his companion calming down on his own, this was most definitely not the conclusion he'd been hoping for.
"Miss Rangiku isn't like King Aizen!" he insisted, his voice breaking half-way through making him sound like some mouse and ruining the effect. Hitsugaya had just agreed to an alliance. This had just started seeming okay. They were hostages, but only in the loosest of terms. If they could just work together… "Sh-She just… She just l-likes you."
"You're right. She isn't like Aizen. Which means I can use this to my advantage." He was back to pacing, though he was less visibly disturbed, his steps following a consistent rhythm. "All I'd have to do is ask for a concession directly afterward. If she wants to maintain her reputation, she'll have no choice but to comply. If I force her to send me as messenger, then not only do they lose a bargaining chip, but my forces as well as those Aizen will bring with him will be enough to wipe out the whole ship."
Hanatarou could only gape. "Y-You just said you didn't want them to be executed! How could you-"
"This trade was never going to work. From the beginning, someone was going to have to pay for that woman's stupidity. It won't be us," Hitsugaya growled.
"N-No! I c-can't let you do that! If Kurosaki were here he'd throw you across the room!"
"Kurosaki isn't here, Yamada. At the end of the day, not even his damned hero complex can save everyone."
Hanatarou rushed for the door when he saw Hitsugaya reach for the wooden plank locking them inside. "Why did you change your mind? What's wrong, Hitsugaya? I don't-"
His words caught in his throat when Hitsugaya's fist met his gut, and he doubled over, curling into a pitiful, pained ball on the floor.
"She has no feelings for me, and I have none for her. I'll watch them die. It's easier than the alternative."
Yamada watched through wet, squinting eyes as Hitsugaya's feet tapped quietly out of the room.
~*~
The man was eternally smug, Gin Ichimaru decided as he swirled the last vestiges of wine in the bottom of his chalice. Whatever the man was reading now, it only doubled the effect. Which meant it probably had something to do with Ran. He really should ask about it, but he had the distinct feeling that he wasn't drunk enough to deal with the answer. He quickly silenced the thought by draining the cup.
"What'cha readin' there?"
"The reason why we're here, of course," caressed the smooth, suave voice. "The official notice that informed me I needed to make haste to Port Ressurección if I ever wished to see my youngest son again. Did you know there are two signatures? One is from a Captain Rangiku Matsumoto of the ship Narcissus. The other … is Isshin Kurosaki."
A single silver brow arched at the confirmation. "My, my. If he signed it himself, he must be pretty excited 'bout it."
"It means, Gin, that he has so little faith in your crew that he feels he must add the weight of his own reputation to their cause."
King Sousuke Aizen dropped the parchment, letting it flutter lightly until it hit the ornate table situated between royalty and prisoner. Though if the lack of restraints were anything to go by, Gin Ichimaru was no longer the prisoner he had been a week ago. In fact, while lounging in this lavishly furnished room with the king of Hueco Mundo, he appeared no less the royalty his companion was - bathed, protected by flowing, colorful clothing, and sipping wine from a bejeweled chalice while spread out over a thick layer of pillows and blankets.
"Unfortunately, that was his biggest mistake."
Gin's masking smirk grew, though he hid it behind his empty chalice. "'Cause he never coulda guessed I'd spill the good news, hm?" he chimed, determinedly unaffected by Aizen's taunting. "Though I 'spose it doesn' matter much. I bet yer little boy is havin' fun tearing my crew apart from the inside out. Ya must've trained him well."
"Have you as little faith as Kurosaki?" The smile that Ichimaru had grown to recognize returned to the king's full lips - that polite, enchanting smile that bled excrement and spoke of nothing but sadism and power. "Well, if you're in a betting mood, why not strike a wager? I propose that young Toushirou will grow attached to your exotic beauty among beasts and will decide his only option is to come begging for my aid."
"An' ya say I'm the one with no faith."
"On the contrary, Gin. I have the utmost faith in him. After all, I've trained him well."
The twisted recycling of Gin's own words left him with an unpleasantly crisp mental image of just what sort of training such a result would entail. "Treatin' yer prisoners like royalty, an' yer royalty like prisoners, huh?" he chuckled to himself before continuing louder. "Well, that's all well an' good, but I got nothin' ta bet with."
"Very well then. If I win, you will accompany me while on the docks."
"An' if ya lose?'
King Aizen waved his hand dismissively, explaining in a single motion that he was confident enough to let Gin choose.
"If ya lose, I get another taste o' this delicious wine," Ichimaru smiled brilliantly.
Aizen returned the favor, though somehow he still looked polite and presentable while Ichimaru could do nothing but appear as a lowly demon, making a deal with the devil. "As you wish."
"But in that case, I'm changin' my bet. I think Ran'll figure out yer little scheme before yer boy can do any harm at all."
At that, the forever composed man clutched his stomach and laughed. "Then I've already won!" he asserted, his tone as well as his body language disturbingly jovial. "Causing harm is within his very nature. He does try to right his wrongs, but…" He turned to his prisoner, his guest, his partner in crime, making sure the man's gaze directly matched his own.
"When one tries so hard to save the world, one often forgets to save one's self."
~*~
Hitsugaya stood quiet but determined outside the door to the captain's cabin, collecting his thoughts and preparing for what he was about to do.
Again and again. She swung those hips, ran her fingers along her thigh, constantly pushed her way into Hitsugaya's personal space. Again and again. She found reasons for them to talk, called him that ridiculous nickname, listened raptly to every story he told and every little detail that spewed from his lips. Again and again. She smiled, she yelled, she shook his hand.
It wasn't want that drove him, no. He didn't want to use her or enjoy her or see how she reacted. He didn't want anything to do with her. It was never want that drove him. It was necessity. He had always done what was necessary, and he would continue to do so without remorse or regret. He had to survive. It was necessary, so he would survive.
Even if it meant doing something as ridiculous as this. This wasn't his doing though. She was the one requesting it. She would be her own downfall. It only proved that she deserved her fate, if she was willing to trust him.
After a moment, he rapped on the door.
The sight that met him when the door slid open was astonishing. The pirate captain had indeed bathed, a warm moisture still clinging to her and the thin clothing she'd likely thrown on only minutes before. Flimsy red fabric revealed ample cleavage and slim, curved shoulders. For the first time, Toushirou Hitsugaya saw Rangiku Matsumoto in a dress, the slit from ankle to thigh revealing one defined and well-toned leg. Despite all her efforts to show off her body, which certainly deserved showing off, the head gear remained, waves of dark material falling into her eyes and over her hair - still wet and weighted down.
She gave him a few seconds to regain his bearings and enter the room before shutting the door behind him and locking it in place.
"You know why I called you here, don't you?" she asked.
"Well…" the royal servant trailed off as she pushed herself off the door and made her way toward him, "I have an idea."
As soon as she reached him, she wrapped her hands around his shoulders and pushed him toward her chair, kicking it out to allow him to sit. Hands slowly began to massage his shoulders and upper back. He wasn't about to complain, but he wasn't sure why she was doing it either.
"You need to relax, Hitsugaya. You're so tense that I get uncomfortable whenever you enter the room," the woman explained lightly. "I thought we could talk about something other than the trade for a little while, loosen you up a little before you keel over from the stress."
Her hands gradually moved lower, from his shoulders to his upper back to his middle back, dexterous fingers unknotting every inch of flesh from beneath his shirt. He moved with her unconsciously, the relief welling up in the back of his throat even as her hair fell into his face and she leaned directly over him.
"So what would you like to talk about?"
Talk? While feeling like this? It seemed like a damn shame, but he managed it. "I thought you said I could only dream of being the men you went to bed with."
This massage was only a pre-text, and they both knew it, but Matsumoto didn't stop when he accused her. She only leaned over further to meet Hitsugaya's eyes with her own. They were steadfast as she answered. "You're not as horrible as you pretend to be, you know. After a few days, I started to think it was kind of cute."
"And now you perceive me to be worthy of your time."
"Maybe you're not the only one who's tense, hm?"
At that confession, Hitsugaya was actually surprised, surprised enough to focus on it above the feel of her hands on his back. "You're the only one on this ship who seems to think your plan will work. Why are you the tense one?"
She huffed, pressing particularly hard against his spine in revenge. Satisfied at his hiss, she confessed. "You're not the only one who can pretend either." Her shoulders slumped into his, her chin resting on his forehead. He didn't react, so she continued. "I'm the captain of this whole damn ship. Everyone on it, no matter what they actually think, is going to follow my orders, no matter how ridiculous. I can't… I can't just tell them that I don't believe in my own choice, that … sometimes I see Gin, late at night, and I don't know whether I'm dreaming or if I'm actually seeing his ghost. I don't even know if he's alive; how can I know that we'll be alive when this is all over?"
He looked up at her, teal green eyes hiding something within their depths that Rangiku had still yet to decipher. "Why tell me?"
"Because," she smiled sadly, "I see you staring at your own ghosts every day."
Hitsugaya felt something melt inside of him. He wasn't sure what it was, but it burned. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between them, pressing into her lips like he belonged there. She returned his gesture, arms pulling away from his back and around to his front, pushing his shirt down as they ran along his chest. His callused hands moved to wrap around her neck, gliding upward until they reached the edge of the head piece at her forehead.
The moment he began to slip it off, she grabbed his wrist. For a few seconds, Hitsugaya thought she was finished, but then she reached beneath it and began to remove several small pins that must have been holding it in place. As she gently removed it, she ran a hand through her drying lockes, and Hitsugaya found himself questioning why she would ever hide herself like that.
Until he noticed it. In a jagged curve from the edge of her left brow over her ear and around the back of her head was a horrible burn mark. No doubt it had been third degree, blistering and boiling red when new. It had mellowed into a painfully sensitive pink since, and no hair grew upon its length. No hair ever would again.
"Ugly, isn't it?" she asked flippantly, as if speaking of the weather. "It used to be worse. A couple of the healers emptied their stomachs when they first saw it. I guess none of them could picture me with such a disfigurement."
But Hitsugaya refused to recoil at the sight. Instead he stood up and pushed forward again, reaching up to trail his fingers along the edge of the mark, where soft flesh and inflamed scar tissue met. "I have had to walk among men and women who hide behind powdered wigs and face paint all my life. Those are the real disfigurements. This only proves you've done something worth telling."
She was quiet for a moment before moving closer. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me want to laugh and cry at the same time."
Why was she telling him all of this? She obviously hadn't divulged this information to anyone else. Her own crew members didn't know what he knew. He was the only one.
And he liked it.
He wanted to be the only one who knew these things. He wanted her to tell him more, he wanted to hear more about her. He wanted to feel her, to understand her in every way possible.
He wanted her.
She dove for his lips, and he pressed her against the wall, hungry tongues invading each others privacy, searching for a dominance they never found in their anarchical dance. He caressed her shoulders, palms gliding along the flesh until they found the cloth that hid her chest from him. He forced it down to her elbows as she planted her hands on his chest once more, riding his shirt up while hers tumbled down.
Only when they broke from the kiss did he reach for her breast, squeezing the yielding fat between his fingers as his lips found purchase along the side of her neck. She moved against him brilliantly, letting loose a pleased moan.
"Just for tonight," she whispered into his ear. "Just for tonight, I'm all yours."
"Everything you will ever own…"
Hitsugaya froze, and Matsumoto took it as her cue to throw in a few kisses herself.
"Everything you will ever love, and everything you will ever hate…"
Hastily, he jerked away from her touch, pushing her into the wall as he stepped back.
"They are all mine."
And as Rangiku watched, half undressed and dazed beyond comprehensive thought, Toushirou Hitsugaya ran.
~*~
Chapter Fourteen End
~*~