Bleach Fic: None so Blind
Title: None so blind
Author: aviss
Characters: Hitsugaya+/Matsumoto
Rating: PG
Warning: Character Deaths
Summary: Matsumoto has troubles coping with reality. Or maybe she knows something the rest of the world doesn’t.
Word Count: ~1.600
Notes: I started to write this a long time ago (think about before Matsumoto's fight, that long ago) so it wildly deviates from canon as we know now. I found it today and realized it was only missing a couple hundred words so I finished it.
None so blind
Soul Society declared an entire week of mourning before the restoration. The war against Aizen had not been long but it had been costly, its price almost too high to pay in Matsumoto's opinion.
There had been no Division unscathed--some were worse than others, but all of them would need a long time to recover.
The first funeral had been the hardest. The entire sixth division stood on guard for a day, eyes dry and composed expression hiding their grief while they watched over the body of Kuchiki Byakuya, their only loss and the hardest to bear. Byakuya would have been proud of them; not a single tear had been spilled while he was still present.
There were more after that one, but it was the one which stood present in her mind for the longest time.
The rowdy eleventh drank itself into a stupor as a man celebrating the courage of Madarame Ikkaku among others. Yumichika had been almost unconscious by the end, and Matsumoto could swear she saw tears on his face while he spoke of his jealousy of Ikkaku's death. The spartan bastard considered an honour to lose his best friend while he killed an Arrancar.
The third, the ninth, the second--all the other funerals blurred in her mind, turning into one huge mess of pain and grief and tears.
The tenth, her own division, held a funeral as well. Some of the lower seats had lost their lives in the fight; it would be unfair to deny them the honour. And she had been there, her eyes drawn all the time to the empty space by her side and the empty coffin on display. They had covered it with his spare haori, almost having to take it by force from her hands. No one listened to her--he might still need it when he came back.
She made sure to retrieve it afterwards.
Matsumoto had also received a white haori with the tenth emblazoned in the back. Big enough for her.
Too big in her opinion. She didn't intend to use it. Ever.
She would be acting-Taichou while he found his way back, nothing more. And she didn't need special clothing for that.
…
"Hinamori-kun!" Matusmoto called after the girl on her way back to the Taisha.
Momo stopped and waited for her to catch up, a gentle smile on her lips. "Matsumoto-san, how good to see you," she said politely, falling into step with her.
Momo looked almost as she did before everything happened; all her wounds finally healed except for the sadness surrounding her like a cloud. She had even resumed her old obligations as the fifth division fukutaichou, and it seemed to be doing wonders for her keeping busy.
Time healed everything, as the saying went. In her case it was almost true.
Almost.
"How are you holding up, Hinamori-kun?"
"Fine, just fine," Momo said with an absent smile, "things are so hectic I have no time to catch my breath. So many things to do."
"Tell me about it!" Matsumoto agreed. Two years after the war and they were still recovering from it. "I have a meeting this afternoon to select new trainees for my division, and what I heard from Renji is they are a bunch of morons."
Momo laughed, "I know, they seem so young, so innocent--" she trailed off and her expression clouded. "I thought that was the Taichou's job, anyway. Is Shiro-chan too busy to attend?"
Matsumoto looked at her sadly but didn't correct her, "Yes, he's not back yet."
As if a veil had lifted from her eyes Momo smiled again. "Oh yes, that mission. I wonder when he will be back. Will he bring Aizen-taichou with him?" Matsumoto suppressed a shudder at the name; it still had too many bad memories attached. "Not that I'm unhappy with Kurosaki-taichou, but he's a bit forceful and--never mind, I hope he doesn’t take it badly when Taichou returns and takes over the division again. I like him anyway."
Matsumoto nodded dumbly, unable to say anything and not knowing what could be said in any case.
"Oh, I shouldn't keep you, Matsumoto-san! Tell Shiro-chan to come visit me when he returns, I haven't seen him in ages."
She mustered a smile and nodded again. She loved seeing Momo recovered, though she still had a long way to go to accept things completely. Matsumoto just didn't have the heart to destroy her dream world.
She went back to her Taisha and grabbed the white armband she wore with her division number, looking at the two haoris hanging next to door.
Maybe Momo wasn’t the only one living in a fantasy world.
…
"Matsumoto-san."
Matsumoto tried not to squirm under Yamamoto-soutaichou's grim countenance and piercing stare, succeeding only by sheer force of will.
"I need to have a word with you now, please follow me."
She did, Renji's sympathetic look following her out of the meeting room. It wasn't the first time she had been called to Yamamoto's office after a meeting, but this time she had the feeling there would be no praises or good news. She was in a world of trouble.
"Matsumoto-san," he began once they were behind closed doors. "How long have you been in your current position?"
"Five years, Soutaichou," she replied simply, there was no point lying. He had been, after all, the one who appointed her for the position ignoring her wishes.
"And, after all this time you still refuse to wear your rightful mark as a Taichou and elect a second in command," he said.
She could see he was not really angry with her, just disappointed. That hurt even more. She looked at her feet.
"Matsumoto-san, I know this is difficult for you--"
"The division works fine, Soutaichou," she interrupted him, "I can cope with the workload and the seated officers are of great help."
"That's not the point, Matsumoto-san," he said. His expression gentled then. "Hitsugaya-kun is not coming back. I swear you're worse than Hinamori-kun in this subject. At least she knows, most of the time."
"He might--"
"He won't. He's dead."
Matsumoto squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she looked at him again her eyes where bright and there was an infinite sadness in them.
"What do you want me to do?" She finally said.
"I want you to move on, Matsumoto-san."
They didn't say anything for a while, the silence turning awkward with each passing second.
"I'll appoint a Fukutaichou this week, Soutaichou."
"Good."
There was nothing else for her to say. If she didn't they would give her someone to fill the position and that was something she didn't want. She had been pushing her luck with this as it was.
"As for the other?" She asked quietly.
Yamamoto sighed resigned. "Do as you will, Matsumoto-san."
"Thanks."
…
It was too tight and short, looking almost ridiculous on her but she wore it anyway.
The sides didn't cover her breasts, not even close to doing it, and it was barely long enough to cover her bottom. Matsumoto didn't care.
It had been a long time for it to carry his scent, but she still found it comforting.
There had been stares and comments, and the first time she went like that to a meeting Yamamoto-soutaichou had looked at her with pity in his eyes but said nothing.
There had been no laughs or snickers; she would have probably beaten the poor sod if there were.
In her division she found a new respect shining in their eyes, and that was all that mattered.
…
Matsumoto woke up in the middle of the night, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
He was back.
Hyorinmaru is back. That was what Haineko said in her mind, just a whisper, but enough for her to wake up instantly, the blood rushing in her ears and a smile spreading on her face.
Finally.
"Take me to him," she asked, standing up hurriedly and getting dressed.
She ran out of Seiretei, following Haineko's instructions until they reached a house on the outskirts of Rukongai's 10th District.
It was barely the first light of dawn when the house's door opened and some people stepped out.
She saw him then and had to fight against the impulse to step up to him and drag him to his rightful place. But she couldn't, the one in front of her wasn't the Hitsugaya Toushirou she had last seen in that awful war. This was the little kid she had met a lifetime ago in a shop, a boy still not in control of his reiatsu.
But it was him.
Hyorinmaru says his memories are locked but not erased, Haineko said in her mind, he will remember, and he will come back when the time is right. It's not now, but soon.
Matsumoto nodded, smiling while she watched him. The scowling white haired boy, his lips moving animatedly in a conversation she was too far to hear but that she could understand anyway. She hadn't forgotten how to read him.
He was still the same, maybe younger in body, but he would be the same one again.
Soon.
She turned around and began the long way back to Seiretei, humming contentedly to herself. It was all right if he couldn't come back yet; she had known all that time he would, eventually, find his way back to them, to her. And she had been right.
She had waited ten years for that.
She could wait a few more to return his haori.
…
Author: aviss
Characters: Hitsugaya+/Matsumoto
Rating: PG
Warning: Character Deaths
Summary: Matsumoto has troubles coping with reality. Or maybe she knows something the rest of the world doesn’t.
Word Count: ~1.600
Notes: I started to write this a long time ago (think about before Matsumoto's fight, that long ago) so it wildly deviates from canon as we know now. I found it today and realized it was only missing a couple hundred words so I finished it.
None so blind
Soul Society declared an entire week of mourning before the restoration. The war against Aizen had not been long but it had been costly, its price almost too high to pay in Matsumoto's opinion.
There had been no Division unscathed--some were worse than others, but all of them would need a long time to recover.
The first funeral had been the hardest. The entire sixth division stood on guard for a day, eyes dry and composed expression hiding their grief while they watched over the body of Kuchiki Byakuya, their only loss and the hardest to bear. Byakuya would have been proud of them; not a single tear had been spilled while he was still present.
There were more after that one, but it was the one which stood present in her mind for the longest time.
The rowdy eleventh drank itself into a stupor as a man celebrating the courage of Madarame Ikkaku among others. Yumichika had been almost unconscious by the end, and Matsumoto could swear she saw tears on his face while he spoke of his jealousy of Ikkaku's death. The spartan bastard considered an honour to lose his best friend while he killed an Arrancar.
The third, the ninth, the second--all the other funerals blurred in her mind, turning into one huge mess of pain and grief and tears.
The tenth, her own division, held a funeral as well. Some of the lower seats had lost their lives in the fight; it would be unfair to deny them the honour. And she had been there, her eyes drawn all the time to the empty space by her side and the empty coffin on display. They had covered it with his spare haori, almost having to take it by force from her hands. No one listened to her--he might still need it when he came back.
She made sure to retrieve it afterwards.
Matsumoto had also received a white haori with the tenth emblazoned in the back. Big enough for her.
Too big in her opinion. She didn't intend to use it. Ever.
She would be acting-Taichou while he found his way back, nothing more. And she didn't need special clothing for that.
…
"Hinamori-kun!" Matusmoto called after the girl on her way back to the Taisha.
Momo stopped and waited for her to catch up, a gentle smile on her lips. "Matsumoto-san, how good to see you," she said politely, falling into step with her.
Momo looked almost as she did before everything happened; all her wounds finally healed except for the sadness surrounding her like a cloud. She had even resumed her old obligations as the fifth division fukutaichou, and it seemed to be doing wonders for her keeping busy.
Time healed everything, as the saying went. In her case it was almost true.
Almost.
"How are you holding up, Hinamori-kun?"
"Fine, just fine," Momo said with an absent smile, "things are so hectic I have no time to catch my breath. So many things to do."
"Tell me about it!" Matsumoto agreed. Two years after the war and they were still recovering from it. "I have a meeting this afternoon to select new trainees for my division, and what I heard from Renji is they are a bunch of morons."
Momo laughed, "I know, they seem so young, so innocent--" she trailed off and her expression clouded. "I thought that was the Taichou's job, anyway. Is Shiro-chan too busy to attend?"
Matsumoto looked at her sadly but didn't correct her, "Yes, he's not back yet."
As if a veil had lifted from her eyes Momo smiled again. "Oh yes, that mission. I wonder when he will be back. Will he bring Aizen-taichou with him?" Matsumoto suppressed a shudder at the name; it still had too many bad memories attached. "Not that I'm unhappy with Kurosaki-taichou, but he's a bit forceful and--never mind, I hope he doesn’t take it badly when Taichou returns and takes over the division again. I like him anyway."
Matsumoto nodded dumbly, unable to say anything and not knowing what could be said in any case.
"Oh, I shouldn't keep you, Matsumoto-san! Tell Shiro-chan to come visit me when he returns, I haven't seen him in ages."
She mustered a smile and nodded again. She loved seeing Momo recovered, though she still had a long way to go to accept things completely. Matsumoto just didn't have the heart to destroy her dream world.
She went back to her Taisha and grabbed the white armband she wore with her division number, looking at the two haoris hanging next to door.
Maybe Momo wasn’t the only one living in a fantasy world.
…
"Matsumoto-san."
Matsumoto tried not to squirm under Yamamoto-soutaichou's grim countenance and piercing stare, succeeding only by sheer force of will.
"I need to have a word with you now, please follow me."
She did, Renji's sympathetic look following her out of the meeting room. It wasn't the first time she had been called to Yamamoto's office after a meeting, but this time she had the feeling there would be no praises or good news. She was in a world of trouble.
"Matsumoto-san," he began once they were behind closed doors. "How long have you been in your current position?"
"Five years, Soutaichou," she replied simply, there was no point lying. He had been, after all, the one who appointed her for the position ignoring her wishes.
"And, after all this time you still refuse to wear your rightful mark as a Taichou and elect a second in command," he said.
She could see he was not really angry with her, just disappointed. That hurt even more. She looked at her feet.
"Matsumoto-san, I know this is difficult for you--"
"The division works fine, Soutaichou," she interrupted him, "I can cope with the workload and the seated officers are of great help."
"That's not the point, Matsumoto-san," he said. His expression gentled then. "Hitsugaya-kun is not coming back. I swear you're worse than Hinamori-kun in this subject. At least she knows, most of the time."
"He might--"
"He won't. He's dead."
Matsumoto squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she looked at him again her eyes where bright and there was an infinite sadness in them.
"What do you want me to do?" She finally said.
"I want you to move on, Matsumoto-san."
They didn't say anything for a while, the silence turning awkward with each passing second.
"I'll appoint a Fukutaichou this week, Soutaichou."
"Good."
There was nothing else for her to say. If she didn't they would give her someone to fill the position and that was something she didn't want. She had been pushing her luck with this as it was.
"As for the other?" She asked quietly.
Yamamoto sighed resigned. "Do as you will, Matsumoto-san."
"Thanks."
…
It was too tight and short, looking almost ridiculous on her but she wore it anyway.
The sides didn't cover her breasts, not even close to doing it, and it was barely long enough to cover her bottom. Matsumoto didn't care.
It had been a long time for it to carry his scent, but she still found it comforting.
There had been stares and comments, and the first time she went like that to a meeting Yamamoto-soutaichou had looked at her with pity in his eyes but said nothing.
There had been no laughs or snickers; she would have probably beaten the poor sod if there were.
In her division she found a new respect shining in their eyes, and that was all that mattered.
…
Matsumoto woke up in the middle of the night, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
He was back.
Hyorinmaru is back. That was what Haineko said in her mind, just a whisper, but enough for her to wake up instantly, the blood rushing in her ears and a smile spreading on her face.
Finally.
"Take me to him," she asked, standing up hurriedly and getting dressed.
She ran out of Seiretei, following Haineko's instructions until they reached a house on the outskirts of Rukongai's 10th District.
It was barely the first light of dawn when the house's door opened and some people stepped out.
She saw him then and had to fight against the impulse to step up to him and drag him to his rightful place. But she couldn't, the one in front of her wasn't the Hitsugaya Toushirou she had last seen in that awful war. This was the little kid she had met a lifetime ago in a shop, a boy still not in control of his reiatsu.
But it was him.
Hyorinmaru says his memories are locked but not erased, Haineko said in her mind, he will remember, and he will come back when the time is right. It's not now, but soon.
Matsumoto nodded, smiling while she watched him. The scowling white haired boy, his lips moving animatedly in a conversation she was too far to hear but that she could understand anyway. She hadn't forgotten how to read him.
He was still the same, maybe younger in body, but he would be the same one again.
Soon.
She turned around and began the long way back to Seiretei, humming contentedly to herself. It was all right if he couldn't come back yet; she had known all that time he would, eventually, find his way back to them, to her. And she had been right.
She had waited ten years for that.
She could wait a few more to return his haori.
…