Fanfiction || Treading Icy Waters 10
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.
~*~
“If the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts.”
-Albert Einstein
~*~
Chapter Ten
Mask of Another Kind
~*~
“Okay, so everybody’s settled then?” asked Urahara, donning his bucket hat once more and looking pointedly at Matsumoto Rangiku.
Said shinigami was currently sitting, cross-legged and arms folded beneath her breasts, in-between Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Rukia, fuming like a volcano past due for explosion. She had been subdued by Urahara and Renji, and Rukia’s barging in had sobered her somewhat, but that wasn’t to say she wasn’t still pissed. She had gone through a lot of trouble to get here. So it stood to reason that when Urahara said he’d tell her where her taichou was only if she put on a maid’s outfit (She didn’t want to know where he had gotten one in the first place.), she was more than a little angry with him. He had insisted it had been only a joke, but right now she had no time to deal with such.
She did not reply to his question, choosing instead to show her distaste by pouting at the man and sticking out her tongue. It appeared Urahara took this as a ‘yes.’ “Alrighty then. Let’s solve this like we’re not a bunch of raving lunatics for once, ne? Now, whatever could be the problem here?” he grinned.
Renji pointed at Rangiku; Rangiku pointed at Urahara; and Rukia could only sigh.
“Ichigo and Hitsugaya-taichou ran off right after school. They haven’t come back since,” she muttered, pulling her knees up to her chin. “I was hoping they’d be here, but-”
“Then Taichou is really here?!” Rangiku interrupted, grabbing the smaller shinigami by her shoulders. Rukia stared in awe at the fukutaichou’s desperate eyes. “He’s here, in Karakura?! And he’s okay?!”
A large hand reached out for Rangiku’s head and pulled her back into Renji’s twitching face. She waved at him sheepishly as he released his fingers from her unkempt locks. “Whaddya mean ‘is he really here’? Of course, he’s here. That shorty’s been scowling around here longer than we’ve been back from Hueco Mundo. I honestly have no idea how you put up with him all the time.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Rangiku sighed with obvious relief. “I was right. He’s here. He’s not with Aizen. He’s not off on his own. I knew he couldn’t be; I knew he wouldn’t. I knew it. He’s here.” And yet, she also knew that deep down, she had still been afraid. She’d had no idea why he left, no idea why he ran off like that. She hadn’t known what sort of condition she would find him in. But, no… She reminded herself, “I was right.”
“The hell are you blabbing on about?” Renji frowned at her, eyes narrowing.
“Either he came to Karakura or he ran off somewhere alone in the living world. Those were the only things that made sense. If he had gone into Rukongai or Hueco Mundo, he wouldn’t need a Hell Butterfly.”
“Matsumoto-san, what are you talking about?” Rukia joined Renji in his concerned questioning.
“I believe she is referring to our little Hitsugaya-kun’s current situation, ne?” Urahara looked down Rangiku, still grinning. Dammit. He so knew something.
“Current situation?” Rukia echoed, turning to the salesman. Renji was eerily silent.
“Ah,” Rangiku sighed knowingly, waving the smaller woman’s question away. “I didn’t think he’d tell any of you. He can get so stubborn sometimes. This guy on the other hand,” she grimaced at Urahara, “had better start talking. Now.”
“Hitsugaya-kun has indeed been staying here since he arrived approximately seven days ago,” Urahara replied, matching Matsumoto’s stare with an equal though calmer intensity. “But as Miss Rukia over there already said, both he and Ichigo are not here at present. I’d advise that you wait until he gets back and ask him the rest yourself.”
“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Rangiku spat as she stood up and began to stomp toward the exit. “I am not letting him run away from me again!” Before she could make it out the door however, a muscular man in tight clothes and an apron blocked her way. She whirled back around to face Urahara once again.
“C’mon. He’s not here at present, but he’ll be back. That, if nothing else, you can count on one hundred per cent,” he cocked his head innocently as Matsumoto stepped away from the doorway but stayed standing, expression still defiant.
Rukia pulled herself to her feet as well, and Renji followed her, though he was decidedly less anxious than his long-time friend as he did so. “Matsumoto-san,” the ebony haired girl looked Rangiku in the eye. “What’s going on with Hitsuga-”
Renji stopped her as he held out a hand, turning from Rangiku to Urahara and back again. “Hitsugaya-taichou isn’t under any orders, is he, Ran?”
The buxom fukutaichou folded her arms across her chest once again, drawing in a deep breath. “No,” she seethed through tightly clenched teeth. “He left the same way you two did. The only difference is that, with Taichou, no one can agree on why.”
~*~
Hitsugaya knew very little about the vaizard. And what all he did know, he had gotten from books and records. He knew that they were shinigami who had somehow found a way to harness the power of hollows for themselves, much like Aizen’s arrancar but vice-versa. He knew that they were currently neutral, neither a threat nor an ally. And he also knew that they harbored a strong dislike toward shinigami, among other groups, prompted by their exile.
What he hadn’t known was that Kurosaki Ichigo was one of them. No, he corrected himself. Kurosaki was not one of them, he was like them. He had been very adamant about that during the short time they had spoken as they followed this Shinji character around Karakura. It was a strange concept, but it made sense.
Frown deepening, he took another long look at Shinji’s back as he swayed confidently onward. He had said Hitsugaya smelled like hollow. Nell had said the very same thing. And she had said that Kurosaki smelled that way too.
So … the vaizard harness the power of a hollow … by becoming hollows?
Hitsugaya did not like the sound of that.
“We’re here,” twittered the vaizard as he motioned toward a warehouse.
Hitsugaya instantly recognized it. It was the third gathering of reiatsu he had sensed when he had first arrived in the living world. But now the intensity of what lay inside was hidden behind some sort of barrier. He could just barely sense it. He swallowed. Why had the barrier been so weak before? Could it be that they had held an interest in him ever since he had appeared? That would not bode well when he ended up disappointing them. And not only was he going to do that, but he was going to demand something from them.
“Are ya gonna go inside or what?” Hirako Shinji grinned, reaching out to open the large door.
“There is no ‘what,’” the white crowned boy replied with hasty irritation. He had not become the youngest taichou to ever grace the Gotei 13 by dwelling on doubts.
Shinji managed to open the door about three-quarters of the way before something from inside rushed out in a blur and knuckled him right on his jaw.
Hitsugaya stared in stunned silence, Kurosaki yawning behind him, as the something then proceeded to lift the vaizard by the collar of his shirt and shake him with frustration. “When you go grocery shopping, you’re supposed to come back, you idiot! You don’t wander around for a whole stinkin’ day! Hacchi’s stomach has been growling so loud, I haven’t heard a single one of my own thoughts for hours!”
The something, Hitsugaya noted, was a young girl about his own height with blond hair held in pig-tails and who was wearing a red jogging outfit. A zanpakutou was strapped to her back, much like his own would be if he hadn’t been in a gigai. That meant … she was one of the vaizard?
He watched as she tossed one of her sandals into the air, caught it, and smacked her companion upside the head once more.
Definitely not what he had been expecting.
“And what about the new kid, huh?! You said you knew where to find him!” the girl continued to berate Shinji, until he lifted a shaky finger in Hitsugaya’s and Kurosaki’s direction.
“Huh?” she dropped the vaizard to the ground as she cocked her head and took a good look at the two guests. “Wow. You actually did something right. And you even brought Ichigo back in one piece.”
Kurosaki shook his head vehemently before barking, “Nobody brought me back! I’m just here with this guy.”
“Hn? And why would he need you around?”
“I don’t,” interjected Hitsugaya, just barely getting even that much in before Kurosaki bounced off again.
“’Cause I ain’t letting you touch him.”
Hirako Shinji finally pulled himself back to his feet, nursing a bloody lip. He grabbed the girl’s shoulder in a grip that was both endearing and frustrated in its stiffness. “He’s not what we thought, Hiyori. Turns out he’s jus’ some twisted shinigami,” he managed, spitting out some of the blood that had accumulated in his mouth. “Says he wants answers outta us.”
“He’s not one of us?” she frowned, folding her arms across her chest. “Then why the hell didja bring him here?”
“I told him ya wouldn’ like him, but he came anyway.”
“You told him, did you?” the girl Hitsugaya now knew was Hiyori turned to face him with a scowl to match Kurosaki’s on his worst days. “Then he’s an idiot.”
She had her zanpakutou in hand so fast, he had only enough time to grab his gikongan dispenser before he was forced to duck and roll. Kurosaki jumped in the other direction, reaching for his own gikongan as well. Hitsugaya nearly choked on the hard candy in his haste, the jolt of his soul being torn from his gigai leaving him breathless.
She came at him again, just as quickly as before, and he yanked Hyourinmaru none-too-gracefully from his sheath to meet the full force of the blow. Metal on metal, and he felt the soles of his feet scream as they were propelled backward by the laws of physics. He swore the friction was burning through his sandals.
He could hear Kurosaki yelling something or other to Shinji, but he couldn’t see. His vision was entirely focused on the face in front of him. The small vaizard was looking angrier and angrier by the second. Finally, she could no longer stand the stalemate. Pulling back just enough to throw him off balance, she twisted her zanpakutou and went in for another strike.
The reiatsu she brought forth was much more intense this time, and he had not been expecting it. He pulled Hyourinmaru in front of his chest to meet her blade, but when the blow connected the force threw him backward. He crashed right through the half-open warehouse doorway, plastic and metal bending and coiling to admit him.
When he finally stopped skidding, he pushed himself up into a sitting position via his elbows. The back of his head was killing him. As was the rest of his backside. But it was livable, and so he ignored it to the best of his ability. His grip on Hyourinmaru’s hilt tightened as he felt many unwelcome eyes on him and the girl stepped forward, entering the warehouse after him.
Fighting like this wasn’t going to work. He could feel the reiatsu of at least five or six more vaizard. That left him severely outnumbered, Kurosaki or no. The whole point of this was to gain information to help him survive, not to get himself killed. He needed to convince this girl that he was both trustworthy and deserving while knowing that he was neither. He stood up, noticing a few of the other vaizard doing the same. They didn’t know what was going on, but he doubted they were going to side with him. He took a deep breath and lowered his zanpakutou. It was time for the web of lies to be spun.
Well, perhaps he could get by on a half truth instead of a straight out lie.
“Listen! I may be a shinigami, but I might as well be in the same situation as you!” he announced. She didn’t look willing to listen, but he continued none-the-less. “I was fukutaichou under Matsumoto-taichou of the Tenth Division. If you were a shinigami once, then you should know that on coming to the living world all fukutaichou and taichou are required to have a limit placed on them. I have none. I’m not here on behalf of Soul Society or even shinigami. I am here on behalf of myself because I need answers that Soul Society can’t give me. And I’m not leaving until I get them!”
He glared defiantly at the girl as Kurosaki finally ran inside behind her, Shinji in tow. If she called his bluff, Kurosaki and he would have to run for it. He doubted they’d give chase as long as the two of them made it out of the initial area. But it didn’t look like they’d have to.
The girl, Hiyori, raised her head as she too lowered her zanpakutou. “And what makes you think we’ll give you those answers?”
“You have no reason to,” he replied simply. “And all I have to give to you in return is myself and that guy.” He pointed to Kurosaki as he said this, the red head’s jaw dropping to the floor.
“What did you just say?!”
They ignored him, Hiyori cracking her first smirk in Hitsugaya’s presence. “Why would we want you?”
“I wouldn’t know. But, either way, it’s all I can give. Perhaps I can offer you a … favor in the near future?”
Her smirk disappeared as quickly as it had come. “The vaizard don’t need favors from shinigami.”
“When Aizen begins his war, everyone will need favors,” he replied as stony faced as ever.
“Ne, calm down, Hiyori-chan. Can’t you feel it?” The question was provided by a very effeminate looking man strumming a guitar.
The largest of the group, a rather egg-shaped man, stepped down to the area where Hitsugaya and Sarugaki were staring each other down. “I agree. And I must say, I’m rather interested. I’ve never felt anything quite like it. I don’t mind.”
Hiyori, though not without a bit of discontent grumbling, finally sheathed her zanpakutou after one last push from Shinji. “You better make it quick, Hacchi,” she grunted, turning away.
Kurosaki stepped forward as the egg-shaped vaizard, Hacchi, stared down into Hitsugaya’s still glaring face. Hitsugaya had not sheathed Hyourinmaru as of yet, and he was not about to. But as Kurosaki relaxed, he felt it would be okay to at least release some of his tension now that the Hiyori problem had been leashed.
“Hnn…” trailed the large vaizard as he lifted a finger and traced it along Hitsugaya’s body without actually touching the young shinigami. “It’s hollow all right, but it’s faint. It’s only noticeable because it’s spread throughout the entire body.”
“Through the blood stream,” Hitsugaya prompted. But Hacchi shook his head.
The former taichou’s eyes widened in disbelief at the vaizard’s reply. “Not the blood. It’s being distributed by the central and peripheral nervous system. As I said, I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“If it’s distributed by the nervous system, then … it isn’t a substance but an…” He was lucky to manage that much through his drying throat, but he was even luckier that the large vaizard finished for him.
“An electrical impulse.”
Hitsugaya couldn’t believe it. It made perfect sense. It explained why, when the wound had caused him pain, it had traveled via his spinal chord. It explained how it could affect his senses. It explained why his reiatsu was affected, as both electricity and reiatsu were forms of energy. It even explained how it could shut down his body’s systems despite the fact that nothing was wrong with them, as the brain was a large part of the central nervous system. But he couldn’t believe it.
“If there’s no toxin,” he choked, more to himself than to anyone else, “then there’s no anti-toxin.”
~*~
Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori watched as Ichigo hauled the tiny, white headed brat away from Hachigen and off into the night. The brat had been more than a little startled after Hacchi had taken a look, but as the two had talked on, he had seemed to regain himself a bit, gleaning any and all information he could from the genial and less biased vaizard and even going on to talk a bit with Mashiro.
If Shinji had a guess, he’d say the kid was just skilled at hiding it.
“Shinji,” he heard from Hiyori. She was still staring at the retreating backs of their recent guests, her scowl as fierce as ever. “I swung at him three times.”
The taller vaizard nodded. There was no need for words.
“Fukutaichou my ass.”
~*~
Ichigo walked a foot or two in front of Toushirou as they headed home. Lisa and Kensei had kept him company as Hachigen and Mashiro had hounded the mini taichou. It had not been pleasant. Between the tense silence and the never-ending basketball gibberish, he wasn’t exactly sure which had annoyed him more. And all the while, Toushirou had been talking a mile a minute about stuff that made no sense whatsoever.
The red head allowed himself a deep breath. He was going to ask. And if the shrimp didn’t want to answer, than he’d just force the answer out of him. “Okay. I know you’re all about keeping to yourself and being stubborn and all aloof, but I am not. So if you don’t tell me what that was all about right now, I’m really gonna-”
“The day after we returned to Soul Society, two arrancar appeared in Rukongai,” Toushirou interrupted, though his voice was quiet. Ichigo didn’t know what surprised him more: that Toushirou was actually talking or that arrancar had shown up in Soul Society. “Kenpachi, Kusajishi, Matsumoto, and I encountered them. We defeated them, but the arrancar I fought gave me a few … parting gifts.
“The first was a wound on my back, inflicted through its zanpakutou release. The second was a message … from Ichimaru Gin.”
Ichigo inhaled sharply. Gin was that creepy one that had met them at the gate, right? He couldn’t imagine any message from him being at all pleasant. In fact, just those eyes alone sent shivers down his spine.
“He informed me that if I left for the living world I would have roughly two months, at the most, to find an anti-toxin to counteract the venom injected through the wound, whereas if I stayed in Soul Society, I would have mere days. So … I left.”
“Well, no duh,” Ichigo shot back. “What else could you have done?”
“I could have stayed.” His voice was even softer now, as if it would soon be extinguished.
But Ichigo wouldn’t allow that to happen. Not now. “And then died!”
“Who knows?” the frigid voice hissed. “There’s no poison. He’s already lied about that. Who knows what else he’s lied about? The time limit? The symptoms? For all I know, I may have had a better chance in Soul Society. I may not have a chance at all.”
“Or you may have a better chance! And you might’ve died right away if you stayed in Soul Society!” he interjected. Geez, he’d never seen the little guy so utterly devoid of passion as he seemed to be now. Sure, he was always right to the point and he was never obnoxious like Renji or Ikkaku could be, but this was different. This reminded him of himself before Rukia had come back to help with the arrancar.
And the worst part was he couldn’t blame him. If what the shrimp had just told him was true … then he was in deep trouble.
“Being optimistic at this point is the same as going into denial. I am currently wrapped around the finger of one of the most insane men in existence. And he’s enjoying every minute of it. The worst case scenario: I don’t have a chance. The best case scenario: I do have a chance. But knowing Ichimaru, it won’t make a difference either way.”
“Oi! Shut up! I thought you were supposed to be smart! You’ve got me on your side now!” He received a particularly derisive snort for that. “And you even managed to get Getaboushi working for you too! Now, he’s an idiot, but, as much as it hurts to admit it, he’s amazing. He saved my life when I got my butt kicked by Byakuya. He’s the reason I made bankai. He got us into Soul Society. He saved my butt again when the arrancar showed up. And then he even got us into Hueco Mundo. If anyone can help you with this mess, it’s him.”
Silence. Angry silence. Damn, he wished Orihime was here or something! He knew he wasn’t all that great at this sort of thing, but he also knew he had to do something, say something. He was starting to feel guilty, and it wasn’t even his fault! He sighed, slowing his pace until Toushirou was beside him rather than behind. “What have you got to lose?”
Toushirou snorted again, this time in bitter amusement. “Nothing anymore. I gave it all up the moment I left Seireitei. I doubt anyone is happy with Abarai and Kuchiki, but for a division head to leave against orders…”
“Hold up!” Ichigo waved his arms across each other in the air. “Is that why you won’t correct me when I call you Toushirou?”
The return silence told him he was right. “Who cares about what those guys say?! They were wrong about us! They were wrong about Aizen! You shouldn’t have to hang off of their every word like that! So they say you’re not a part of their little gang anymore? So what! You’re still just as strong as you were before. Now, if you told me you secretly like being called Toushirou, then I’ll go along with it. But if it’s because of some stupid reason like you don’t think you’re worthy or something, then forget it.”
“What does it matter to you?” he seethed.
“It just doesn’t feel right, with you calling me Kurosaki and me calling you Toushirou. And I’m not gonna call you Hitsugaya, so that only leaves one other option.” Toushirou didn’t seem to like where this was going, but Ichigo was going to take it there anyway.
“You call me by my first name.”
~*~
Hitsugaya froze. Oh no. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have. But the look on Kurosaki’s face said it all. She had. Tatsuki had told him how she got Hitsugaya to call her by her first name.
The red headed delinquent’s wicked smirk was far too much like a certain fan-waving salesman’s for Hitsugaya’s comfort. The moment he parted his lips, the shinigami knew what was coming.
“Shirou-chan.”
Hitsugaya promptly punched him in the stomach.
“That’s Hitsugaya-taichou to you, Kurosaki!”
He plowed forward, disregarding the keeled over though broadly grinning teenager. Kurosaki was one person he would never address by his first name.
Because although nothing had changed, although nothing had been solved…
It still felt great to be able to hit something and yell.
~*~
It didn’t take long to return to Urahara Shoten, but it was already late. Neither of the boys was looking forward to the reception they’d receive. But Hitsugaya had most definitely not been expecting this.
“No…” he whispered, pausing mid-step as soon as he felt it. “It’s impossible.”
Kurosaki looked at him awkwardly for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to realize what the smaller shinigami was talking about. Almost as soon as the words came out of Hitsugaya’s mouth, a lone woman came charging out of the store. Kurosaki smirked, but Hitsugaya was no longer paying attention. Even as the others filed out of the store front, his eyes were locked on one person.
“M-Matsumoto!?”
The overwhelming bear hug that followed was almost welcome. Almost. “Taichou! You’re okay! Oh! But your head’s injured! Does it hurt?!”
“Now it does,” he managed from between her breasts.
“Then we had better get you somewhere more comfortable, ne, Taichou?” she bellowed gleefully, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind her as she very nearly skipped back inside. But Hitsugaya had to admit that seeing Rukia knee Kurosaki in the exact same spot he had punched him earlier made it at almost entirely worth it.
When they were alone inside however, her demeanor changed completely. The happy-go-lucky boisterousness was gone, replaced with solemn indignation. She refused to face him, leaving only the golden tresses flowing down her back for him to see.
“Taichou,” she began, cold, “you left without me.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Yeah,” Hitsugaya replied, the volume of his voice trailing off into nothingness. “I won’t.”
A sigh, and Matsumoto turned around to meet his teal eyes with her own pale gray. “Now, I’m under orders to report you on sight, so you had better sit down right there and give me a good reason not to, right now!”
And so, he did.
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.
~*~
“If the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts.”
-Albert Einstein
~*~
Chapter Ten
Mask of Another Kind
~*~
“Okay, so everybody’s settled then?” asked Urahara, donning his bucket hat once more and looking pointedly at Matsumoto Rangiku.
Said shinigami was currently sitting, cross-legged and arms folded beneath her breasts, in-between Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Rukia, fuming like a volcano past due for explosion. She had been subdued by Urahara and Renji, and Rukia’s barging in had sobered her somewhat, but that wasn’t to say she wasn’t still pissed. She had gone through a lot of trouble to get here. So it stood to reason that when Urahara said he’d tell her where her taichou was only if she put on a maid’s outfit (She didn’t want to know where he had gotten one in the first place.), she was more than a little angry with him. He had insisted it had been only a joke, but right now she had no time to deal with such.
She did not reply to his question, choosing instead to show her distaste by pouting at the man and sticking out her tongue. It appeared Urahara took this as a ‘yes.’ “Alrighty then. Let’s solve this like we’re not a bunch of raving lunatics for once, ne? Now, whatever could be the problem here?” he grinned.
Renji pointed at Rangiku; Rangiku pointed at Urahara; and Rukia could only sigh.
“Ichigo and Hitsugaya-taichou ran off right after school. They haven’t come back since,” she muttered, pulling her knees up to her chin. “I was hoping they’d be here, but-”
“Then Taichou is really here?!” Rangiku interrupted, grabbing the smaller shinigami by her shoulders. Rukia stared in awe at the fukutaichou’s desperate eyes. “He’s here, in Karakura?! And he’s okay?!”
A large hand reached out for Rangiku’s head and pulled her back into Renji’s twitching face. She waved at him sheepishly as he released his fingers from her unkempt locks. “Whaddya mean ‘is he really here’? Of course, he’s here. That shorty’s been scowling around here longer than we’ve been back from Hueco Mundo. I honestly have no idea how you put up with him all the time.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Rangiku sighed with obvious relief. “I was right. He’s here. He’s not with Aizen. He’s not off on his own. I knew he couldn’t be; I knew he wouldn’t. I knew it. He’s here.” And yet, she also knew that deep down, she had still been afraid. She’d had no idea why he left, no idea why he ran off like that. She hadn’t known what sort of condition she would find him in. But, no… She reminded herself, “I was right.”
“The hell are you blabbing on about?” Renji frowned at her, eyes narrowing.
“Either he came to Karakura or he ran off somewhere alone in the living world. Those were the only things that made sense. If he had gone into Rukongai or Hueco Mundo, he wouldn’t need a Hell Butterfly.”
“Matsumoto-san, what are you talking about?” Rukia joined Renji in his concerned questioning.
“I believe she is referring to our little Hitsugaya-kun’s current situation, ne?” Urahara looked down Rangiku, still grinning. Dammit. He so knew something.
“Current situation?” Rukia echoed, turning to the salesman. Renji was eerily silent.
“Ah,” Rangiku sighed knowingly, waving the smaller woman’s question away. “I didn’t think he’d tell any of you. He can get so stubborn sometimes. This guy on the other hand,” she grimaced at Urahara, “had better start talking. Now.”
“Hitsugaya-kun has indeed been staying here since he arrived approximately seven days ago,” Urahara replied, matching Matsumoto’s stare with an equal though calmer intensity. “But as Miss Rukia over there already said, both he and Ichigo are not here at present. I’d advise that you wait until he gets back and ask him the rest yourself.”
“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Rangiku spat as she stood up and began to stomp toward the exit. “I am not letting him run away from me again!” Before she could make it out the door however, a muscular man in tight clothes and an apron blocked her way. She whirled back around to face Urahara once again.
“C’mon. He’s not here at present, but he’ll be back. That, if nothing else, you can count on one hundred per cent,” he cocked his head innocently as Matsumoto stepped away from the doorway but stayed standing, expression still defiant.
Rukia pulled herself to her feet as well, and Renji followed her, though he was decidedly less anxious than his long-time friend as he did so. “Matsumoto-san,” the ebony haired girl looked Rangiku in the eye. “What’s going on with Hitsuga-”
Renji stopped her as he held out a hand, turning from Rangiku to Urahara and back again. “Hitsugaya-taichou isn’t under any orders, is he, Ran?”
The buxom fukutaichou folded her arms across her chest once again, drawing in a deep breath. “No,” she seethed through tightly clenched teeth. “He left the same way you two did. The only difference is that, with Taichou, no one can agree on why.”
~*~
Hitsugaya knew very little about the vaizard. And what all he did know, he had gotten from books and records. He knew that they were shinigami who had somehow found a way to harness the power of hollows for themselves, much like Aizen’s arrancar but vice-versa. He knew that they were currently neutral, neither a threat nor an ally. And he also knew that they harbored a strong dislike toward shinigami, among other groups, prompted by their exile.
What he hadn’t known was that Kurosaki Ichigo was one of them. No, he corrected himself. Kurosaki was not one of them, he was like them. He had been very adamant about that during the short time they had spoken as they followed this Shinji character around Karakura. It was a strange concept, but it made sense.
Frown deepening, he took another long look at Shinji’s back as he swayed confidently onward. He had said Hitsugaya smelled like hollow. Nell had said the very same thing. And she had said that Kurosaki smelled that way too.
So … the vaizard harness the power of a hollow … by becoming hollows?
Hitsugaya did not like the sound of that.
“We’re here,” twittered the vaizard as he motioned toward a warehouse.
Hitsugaya instantly recognized it. It was the third gathering of reiatsu he had sensed when he had first arrived in the living world. But now the intensity of what lay inside was hidden behind some sort of barrier. He could just barely sense it. He swallowed. Why had the barrier been so weak before? Could it be that they had held an interest in him ever since he had appeared? That would not bode well when he ended up disappointing them. And not only was he going to do that, but he was going to demand something from them.
“Are ya gonna go inside or what?” Hirako Shinji grinned, reaching out to open the large door.
“There is no ‘what,’” the white crowned boy replied with hasty irritation. He had not become the youngest taichou to ever grace the Gotei 13 by dwelling on doubts.
Shinji managed to open the door about three-quarters of the way before something from inside rushed out in a blur and knuckled him right on his jaw.
Hitsugaya stared in stunned silence, Kurosaki yawning behind him, as the something then proceeded to lift the vaizard by the collar of his shirt and shake him with frustration. “When you go grocery shopping, you’re supposed to come back, you idiot! You don’t wander around for a whole stinkin’ day! Hacchi’s stomach has been growling so loud, I haven’t heard a single one of my own thoughts for hours!”
The something, Hitsugaya noted, was a young girl about his own height with blond hair held in pig-tails and who was wearing a red jogging outfit. A zanpakutou was strapped to her back, much like his own would be if he hadn’t been in a gigai. That meant … she was one of the vaizard?
He watched as she tossed one of her sandals into the air, caught it, and smacked her companion upside the head once more.
Definitely not what he had been expecting.
“And what about the new kid, huh?! You said you knew where to find him!” the girl continued to berate Shinji, until he lifted a shaky finger in Hitsugaya’s and Kurosaki’s direction.
“Huh?” she dropped the vaizard to the ground as she cocked her head and took a good look at the two guests. “Wow. You actually did something right. And you even brought Ichigo back in one piece.”
Kurosaki shook his head vehemently before barking, “Nobody brought me back! I’m just here with this guy.”
“Hn? And why would he need you around?”
“I don’t,” interjected Hitsugaya, just barely getting even that much in before Kurosaki bounced off again.
“’Cause I ain’t letting you touch him.”
Hirako Shinji finally pulled himself back to his feet, nursing a bloody lip. He grabbed the girl’s shoulder in a grip that was both endearing and frustrated in its stiffness. “He’s not what we thought, Hiyori. Turns out he’s jus’ some twisted shinigami,” he managed, spitting out some of the blood that had accumulated in his mouth. “Says he wants answers outta us.”
“He’s not one of us?” she frowned, folding her arms across her chest. “Then why the hell didja bring him here?”
“I told him ya wouldn’ like him, but he came anyway.”
“You told him, did you?” the girl Hitsugaya now knew was Hiyori turned to face him with a scowl to match Kurosaki’s on his worst days. “Then he’s an idiot.”
She had her zanpakutou in hand so fast, he had only enough time to grab his gikongan dispenser before he was forced to duck and roll. Kurosaki jumped in the other direction, reaching for his own gikongan as well. Hitsugaya nearly choked on the hard candy in his haste, the jolt of his soul being torn from his gigai leaving him breathless.
She came at him again, just as quickly as before, and he yanked Hyourinmaru none-too-gracefully from his sheath to meet the full force of the blow. Metal on metal, and he felt the soles of his feet scream as they were propelled backward by the laws of physics. He swore the friction was burning through his sandals.
He could hear Kurosaki yelling something or other to Shinji, but he couldn’t see. His vision was entirely focused on the face in front of him. The small vaizard was looking angrier and angrier by the second. Finally, she could no longer stand the stalemate. Pulling back just enough to throw him off balance, she twisted her zanpakutou and went in for another strike.
The reiatsu she brought forth was much more intense this time, and he had not been expecting it. He pulled Hyourinmaru in front of his chest to meet her blade, but when the blow connected the force threw him backward. He crashed right through the half-open warehouse doorway, plastic and metal bending and coiling to admit him.
When he finally stopped skidding, he pushed himself up into a sitting position via his elbows. The back of his head was killing him. As was the rest of his backside. But it was livable, and so he ignored it to the best of his ability. His grip on Hyourinmaru’s hilt tightened as he felt many unwelcome eyes on him and the girl stepped forward, entering the warehouse after him.
Fighting like this wasn’t going to work. He could feel the reiatsu of at least five or six more vaizard. That left him severely outnumbered, Kurosaki or no. The whole point of this was to gain information to help him survive, not to get himself killed. He needed to convince this girl that he was both trustworthy and deserving while knowing that he was neither. He stood up, noticing a few of the other vaizard doing the same. They didn’t know what was going on, but he doubted they were going to side with him. He took a deep breath and lowered his zanpakutou. It was time for the web of lies to be spun.
Well, perhaps he could get by on a half truth instead of a straight out lie.
“Listen! I may be a shinigami, but I might as well be in the same situation as you!” he announced. She didn’t look willing to listen, but he continued none-the-less. “I was fukutaichou under Matsumoto-taichou of the Tenth Division. If you were a shinigami once, then you should know that on coming to the living world all fukutaichou and taichou are required to have a limit placed on them. I have none. I’m not here on behalf of Soul Society or even shinigami. I am here on behalf of myself because I need answers that Soul Society can’t give me. And I’m not leaving until I get them!”
He glared defiantly at the girl as Kurosaki finally ran inside behind her, Shinji in tow. If she called his bluff, Kurosaki and he would have to run for it. He doubted they’d give chase as long as the two of them made it out of the initial area. But it didn’t look like they’d have to.
The girl, Hiyori, raised her head as she too lowered her zanpakutou. “And what makes you think we’ll give you those answers?”
“You have no reason to,” he replied simply. “And all I have to give to you in return is myself and that guy.” He pointed to Kurosaki as he said this, the red head’s jaw dropping to the floor.
“What did you just say?!”
They ignored him, Hiyori cracking her first smirk in Hitsugaya’s presence. “Why would we want you?”
“I wouldn’t know. But, either way, it’s all I can give. Perhaps I can offer you a … favor in the near future?”
Her smirk disappeared as quickly as it had come. “The vaizard don’t need favors from shinigami.”
“When Aizen begins his war, everyone will need favors,” he replied as stony faced as ever.
“Ne, calm down, Hiyori-chan. Can’t you feel it?” The question was provided by a very effeminate looking man strumming a guitar.
The largest of the group, a rather egg-shaped man, stepped down to the area where Hitsugaya and Sarugaki were staring each other down. “I agree. And I must say, I’m rather interested. I’ve never felt anything quite like it. I don’t mind.”
Hiyori, though not without a bit of discontent grumbling, finally sheathed her zanpakutou after one last push from Shinji. “You better make it quick, Hacchi,” she grunted, turning away.
Kurosaki stepped forward as the egg-shaped vaizard, Hacchi, stared down into Hitsugaya’s still glaring face. Hitsugaya had not sheathed Hyourinmaru as of yet, and he was not about to. But as Kurosaki relaxed, he felt it would be okay to at least release some of his tension now that the Hiyori problem had been leashed.
“Hnn…” trailed the large vaizard as he lifted a finger and traced it along Hitsugaya’s body without actually touching the young shinigami. “It’s hollow all right, but it’s faint. It’s only noticeable because it’s spread throughout the entire body.”
“Through the blood stream,” Hitsugaya prompted. But Hacchi shook his head.
The former taichou’s eyes widened in disbelief at the vaizard’s reply. “Not the blood. It’s being distributed by the central and peripheral nervous system. As I said, I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“If it’s distributed by the nervous system, then … it isn’t a substance but an…” He was lucky to manage that much through his drying throat, but he was even luckier that the large vaizard finished for him.
“An electrical impulse.”
Hitsugaya couldn’t believe it. It made perfect sense. It explained why, when the wound had caused him pain, it had traveled via his spinal chord. It explained how it could affect his senses. It explained why his reiatsu was affected, as both electricity and reiatsu were forms of energy. It even explained how it could shut down his body’s systems despite the fact that nothing was wrong with them, as the brain was a large part of the central nervous system. But he couldn’t believe it.
“If there’s no toxin,” he choked, more to himself than to anyone else, “then there’s no anti-toxin.”
~*~
Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori watched as Ichigo hauled the tiny, white headed brat away from Hachigen and off into the night. The brat had been more than a little startled after Hacchi had taken a look, but as the two had talked on, he had seemed to regain himself a bit, gleaning any and all information he could from the genial and less biased vaizard and even going on to talk a bit with Mashiro.
If Shinji had a guess, he’d say the kid was just skilled at hiding it.
“Shinji,” he heard from Hiyori. She was still staring at the retreating backs of their recent guests, her scowl as fierce as ever. “I swung at him three times.”
The taller vaizard nodded. There was no need for words.
“Fukutaichou my ass.”
~*~
Ichigo walked a foot or two in front of Toushirou as they headed home. Lisa and Kensei had kept him company as Hachigen and Mashiro had hounded the mini taichou. It had not been pleasant. Between the tense silence and the never-ending basketball gibberish, he wasn’t exactly sure which had annoyed him more. And all the while, Toushirou had been talking a mile a minute about stuff that made no sense whatsoever.
The red head allowed himself a deep breath. He was going to ask. And if the shrimp didn’t want to answer, than he’d just force the answer out of him. “Okay. I know you’re all about keeping to yourself and being stubborn and all aloof, but I am not. So if you don’t tell me what that was all about right now, I’m really gonna-”
“The day after we returned to Soul Society, two arrancar appeared in Rukongai,” Toushirou interrupted, though his voice was quiet. Ichigo didn’t know what surprised him more: that Toushirou was actually talking or that arrancar had shown up in Soul Society. “Kenpachi, Kusajishi, Matsumoto, and I encountered them. We defeated them, but the arrancar I fought gave me a few … parting gifts.
“The first was a wound on my back, inflicted through its zanpakutou release. The second was a message … from Ichimaru Gin.”
Ichigo inhaled sharply. Gin was that creepy one that had met them at the gate, right? He couldn’t imagine any message from him being at all pleasant. In fact, just those eyes alone sent shivers down his spine.
“He informed me that if I left for the living world I would have roughly two months, at the most, to find an anti-toxin to counteract the venom injected through the wound, whereas if I stayed in Soul Society, I would have mere days. So … I left.”
“Well, no duh,” Ichigo shot back. “What else could you have done?”
“I could have stayed.” His voice was even softer now, as if it would soon be extinguished.
But Ichigo wouldn’t allow that to happen. Not now. “And then died!”
“Who knows?” the frigid voice hissed. “There’s no poison. He’s already lied about that. Who knows what else he’s lied about? The time limit? The symptoms? For all I know, I may have had a better chance in Soul Society. I may not have a chance at all.”
“Or you may have a better chance! And you might’ve died right away if you stayed in Soul Society!” he interjected. Geez, he’d never seen the little guy so utterly devoid of passion as he seemed to be now. Sure, he was always right to the point and he was never obnoxious like Renji or Ikkaku could be, but this was different. This reminded him of himself before Rukia had come back to help with the arrancar.
And the worst part was he couldn’t blame him. If what the shrimp had just told him was true … then he was in deep trouble.
“Being optimistic at this point is the same as going into denial. I am currently wrapped around the finger of one of the most insane men in existence. And he’s enjoying every minute of it. The worst case scenario: I don’t have a chance. The best case scenario: I do have a chance. But knowing Ichimaru, it won’t make a difference either way.”
“Oi! Shut up! I thought you were supposed to be smart! You’ve got me on your side now!” He received a particularly derisive snort for that. “And you even managed to get Getaboushi working for you too! Now, he’s an idiot, but, as much as it hurts to admit it, he’s amazing. He saved my life when I got my butt kicked by Byakuya. He’s the reason I made bankai. He got us into Soul Society. He saved my butt again when the arrancar showed up. And then he even got us into Hueco Mundo. If anyone can help you with this mess, it’s him.”
Silence. Angry silence. Damn, he wished Orihime was here or something! He knew he wasn’t all that great at this sort of thing, but he also knew he had to do something, say something. He was starting to feel guilty, and it wasn’t even his fault! He sighed, slowing his pace until Toushirou was beside him rather than behind. “What have you got to lose?”
Toushirou snorted again, this time in bitter amusement. “Nothing anymore. I gave it all up the moment I left Seireitei. I doubt anyone is happy with Abarai and Kuchiki, but for a division head to leave against orders…”
“Hold up!” Ichigo waved his arms across each other in the air. “Is that why you won’t correct me when I call you Toushirou?”
The return silence told him he was right. “Who cares about what those guys say?! They were wrong about us! They were wrong about Aizen! You shouldn’t have to hang off of their every word like that! So they say you’re not a part of their little gang anymore? So what! You’re still just as strong as you were before. Now, if you told me you secretly like being called Toushirou, then I’ll go along with it. But if it’s because of some stupid reason like you don’t think you’re worthy or something, then forget it.”
“What does it matter to you?” he seethed.
“It just doesn’t feel right, with you calling me Kurosaki and me calling you Toushirou. And I’m not gonna call you Hitsugaya, so that only leaves one other option.” Toushirou didn’t seem to like where this was going, but Ichigo was going to take it there anyway.
“You call me by my first name.”
~*~
Hitsugaya froze. Oh no. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have. But the look on Kurosaki’s face said it all. She had. Tatsuki had told him how she got Hitsugaya to call her by her first name.
The red headed delinquent’s wicked smirk was far too much like a certain fan-waving salesman’s for Hitsugaya’s comfort. The moment he parted his lips, the shinigami knew what was coming.
“Shirou-chan.”
Hitsugaya promptly punched him in the stomach.
“That’s Hitsugaya-taichou to you, Kurosaki!”
He plowed forward, disregarding the keeled over though broadly grinning teenager. Kurosaki was one person he would never address by his first name.
Because although nothing had changed, although nothing had been solved…
It still felt great to be able to hit something and yell.
~*~
It didn’t take long to return to Urahara Shoten, but it was already late. Neither of the boys was looking forward to the reception they’d receive. But Hitsugaya had most definitely not been expecting this.
“No…” he whispered, pausing mid-step as soon as he felt it. “It’s impossible.”
Kurosaki looked at him awkwardly for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to realize what the smaller shinigami was talking about. Almost as soon as the words came out of Hitsugaya’s mouth, a lone woman came charging out of the store. Kurosaki smirked, but Hitsugaya was no longer paying attention. Even as the others filed out of the store front, his eyes were locked on one person.
“M-Matsumoto!?”
The overwhelming bear hug that followed was almost welcome. Almost. “Taichou! You’re okay! Oh! But your head’s injured! Does it hurt?!”
“Now it does,” he managed from between her breasts.
“Then we had better get you somewhere more comfortable, ne, Taichou?” she bellowed gleefully, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind her as she very nearly skipped back inside. But Hitsugaya had to admit that seeing Rukia knee Kurosaki in the exact same spot he had punched him earlier made it at almost entirely worth it.
When they were alone inside however, her demeanor changed completely. The happy-go-lucky boisterousness was gone, replaced with solemn indignation. She refused to face him, leaving only the golden tresses flowing down her back for him to see.
“Taichou,” she began, cold, “you left without me.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Yeah,” Hitsugaya replied, the volume of his voice trailing off into nothingness. “I won’t.”
A sigh, and Matsumoto turned around to meet his teal eyes with her own pale gray. “Now, I’m under orders to report you on sight, so you had better sit down right there and give me a good reason not to, right now!”
And so, he did.