Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/559406.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major
      Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Gen
  Fandom:
      Bleach
  Relationship:
      Hitsugaya_Toushirou/Matsumoto_Rangiku
  Additional Tags:
      Drabble_Collection, Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon, Angst
      and_Humor, Fluff_and_Angst, First_posted_in_2007, Romance, Seize_the
      Moment
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-10 Updated: 2017-07-30 Chapters: 96/? Words: 74223
****** Seize the Moment ******
by surrenderdammit
Summary
     This is a collection of drabbles I originally posted on FFNet back in
     2007. Drabble 1-91 are from the years 2007-2010.
     The warnings are blanket ones; each drabble is different, though some
     are connected.
     Heavy on romance and fluff but with a dash of angst here and there.
Notes
     The drabbles are all copy-pasted from the original post and so are
     the A/N up until after chapter 94 (though I've been lazy and mostly
     skipped out on the A/Ns). I've had no beta and still have none.
     English isn't my first language and omg some of this stuff is so old
     like seriously 2007 ok.
     Anyway, just, please excuse any typos/grammatical errors and the
     occasional OOCness.
***** Idiot *****
Last time he saw her, she had her hair down as usual. However, this morning she
had it drawn up in a loose bun. The strawberry-blonde locks looked wild in
their restraint and some fell down to grace her back or shoulders in mere
protest. The silky hair must be hard to keep in place, he mused, and the
thickness of it surely made it heavy and uncomfortable. But she didn't seem
bothered at all; sitting on the roof of their division humming happily. He
rarely saw her neck this exposed; she looked so vulnerable. It seemed to be so
easy to slice that delicate, pale skin. He shook the unpleasant image from his
mind, remembering all too well how dreadful it was to see blood on her skin.
Walking over to her, knowing she had sensed his presence long ago, he wasn't
surprised when she turned and met his gaze.
"Captain?" Her voice was as deep and smooth as usual, the teasing tone complete
with her smiling lips and raised eyebrows. He ignored her sparkling,
questioning eyes and sat down beside her to look up at a sky that was far from
beautiful. The clouds were of a heavy grey colour, and not even a piece of blue
was visible through the thickness.
"What are you doing here Matsumoto?" he asked. "I was looking for you."
She peered at his face, brows brought together in a puzzled frown. It was her
lunch break, so unless something had happened, she didn't understand why he
would want to look her up. She didn't have to deal with paperwork now!
"I was just thinking sir," she finally replied with a small smile, titling her
head; her eyes still on his serious face. "What was it you wanted?"
He let out a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes and putting on an irritated
expression. It was his turn to mock her, he mused with an inner smile.
"Matsumoto, have you forgotten what day it is?" he asked, opening his eyes and
turning his head to meet the icy-blue orbs of his lieutenant. She blinked a few
times, confused, before it dawned upon her.
"Oh," she said before breaking into laughter. "I actually thought you wouldn't
remember Captain!"
"Idiot," he mumbled, watching her with a soft smile as she giggled and leaned
in closer to him. "How could I forget that day; you nearly killed me."
"But Captain," she said with a grin; close enough for her breath to tickle his
skin. "I had never seen anyone looking so cute! I had to hug you! So adorable!"
"Shut up, Matsumoto," he growled, before closing the distance between them and
capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It was the day of the year he'd become her
Captain, how could he forget?
"Idiot," he repeated, voice low and lips only temporarily free before they
pressed against hers again.
***** Just Kissing? *****
They had been here less than a week, and he already wanted to go back to Soul
Society. Living with Matsumoto and Inoue had been more of a problem than he had
originally thought. He'd been naïve enough to think his lieutenant would leave
him alone if he stayed up on the roof and left the females to their business.
But no.
The first night, she'd called for him and said the bathroom was unoccupied and
ready to use if he so pleased. He'd rolled his eyes and hadn't moved an inch.
The second night, she called again and told him that yes, fresh air was good
for you but that didn't mean he'd have to spend all night trying to be healthy.
He'd told her to go to bed and mind her own business.
The third night, he'd watched with mild interest as she climbed up the roof in
he gigai. She'd walked over to him with a pillow and a blanket, and a cup of
tea. With a sigh, he'd accepted it and thanked her; a bit surprised when she
just left. No nagging, no teasing; nothing.
The fourth night however, she hadn't come up at all. He'd been tempted to go
look for her, but stayed put. The stars were awfully pretty…but not much to
look at.
The fifth night, she managed to sneak up behind him. Crushing his head in
between the valley of her breasts, she hugged him and he thought for one moment
he heard her sigh. But when he jerked free from her grip and turned to examine
her face, she wore her usual smile. She told him to come back inside, and at
least brush his teeth, since he'd apparently forgotten to do so. He'd replied
that he really didn't need to do it every night, since this was a gigai, and
that he didn't feel like going inside yet. She grinned and poked his side,
making him jump at the sudden contact, before leaving.
And now he was here. Sitting on the roof, as usual, but no Matsumoto yet. The
days had been filled with the usual chaos that came with bored Shinigamis;
especially those he was stuck with. It left him almost exhausted, being
surrounded with a lack of order he only found with his lieutenant. The
irregular pattern of her nightly bothering gave him a headache, because he
couldn't see any logic. Of course, Matsumoto Rangiku and logic rarely went hand
in hand, but he wished they would. At least now, because nothing in the living
world had proved to be good for his nerves. Here, no one respected him as they
did in Soul Society. Here, he was a kid with bleached hair and unusual eyes
that caught unwanted attention.
His inner musings were interrupted by the giggle of a certain woman. He
recognized it anywhere, her laugh, and wasn't surprised when he was clumsily
embraced from behind yet again. He didn't bother to dodge.
"Captain!" she cooed, loosening her embrace and placing herself beside him. She
grabbed his arm and clung to it, smiling brightly as he glared.
"Let go of my arm Matsumoto," he said with a bored voice, smelling the alcohol.
It wasn't sake, he noticed with a raised brow. It must be something of this
world, he thought with a sigh.
"Nooo, not until you get inside!" she whined. "Inoue is at Kurosaki's place,
and it's lonely without here home!"
"What is she doing at Kurosaki's?" he asked, puzzled. He hadn't noticed her
leaving, probably because he was facing the wrong way and too absorbed in his
own thoughts to notice the young girl slip away. He hit himself mentally, and
was sure to never let his guard down like this again.
"Hmm, she said something about how Rukia wanted to talk to her," she replied,
letting her head drop to rest on his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment,
before relaxing. He rarely noticed the cold, but her warmth leaked through his
skin and filled him up to the point where he shivered slightly at the night air
surrounding them.
"Hn, this late?" he commented, mostly to himself. She didn't answer, but seemed
to be lost in thought. She shivered against him, making him frown.
"Are you cold?" he asked with a raised brow. When she shook her head, he looked
down and spotted the exposed skin of her arms wrapped around his; the goose
bumps giving her away. I guess I don't have much of a choice, he thought before
nudging the distracted woman in her ribs.
"Get up; we're going inside."
"Oooh Captain," she said with a grin, her thoughtful expression replaced with a
mischievous one. "So that was what you were planning?"
He stood and shot her a suspicious look, extending his hand to help her up.
"What are you talking about Matsumoto?"
She didn't answer as she dragged him along, climbing inside with a bit of
difficulty because of her intoxicated state. As he came inside closely after
his lieutenant, he was immediately attacked by a pair of warms lips. Before he
could push away, or respond, she moved away and flashed him a teasing smirk.
"Not here Matsumoto," he growled as she started to drag him further into the
room.
"But Inoue isn't home," she whined, "and it's been weeks!"
He didn't need to be reminded of the length of time that had passed since they
had been intimate, since it both weakened his resolve and made him more aware
of the situation he found himself in. It didn't help that she'd started placing
light kisses on his lips and jaw, or that her dainty hands had started to stray
from his wrists to…other….parts of his body.
"Rangiku," he groaned against her lips, deciding to give in just a little bit.
Just kissing her wasn't wrong, right? She smirked and pulled them both down on
the floor, and he had a sinking feeling of dread as he felt his control slip
away from him. By this rate, it wouldn't be just kissing, would it?
***** Cold Spring? *****
She was pretty proud of herself. She had managed to drag most of her friends to
the hot spring, including her Captain, and they were now sharing a rather
relaxed bath together. To Toshiro's disdain, it was a mixed bath, and thus he
was now trapped between his busty lieutenant and a rather large rock; leaving
him little room for escape. It was with great difficulty he managed to keep
their skin form touching, but the way she moved as she talked happily to the
others around them made it almost impossible. He sat gritting his teeth,
ignoring everyone as he tried to ignore the occasional brush of her thigh, her
arm, her breast…
"Caaaptain!" she finally whined, addressing him after breaking off her current
conversation with Abarai.
"What?" he snapped, wincing slightly at his harsh voice. She seemed unfazed;
only flashing him a pretty pout.
"You're making the water cold with that bad temper of yours!" she explained.
"Cheer up before I turn into ice!"
A vein popped as he glared at her, trying without success to stop chilling the
water.
"It's your own fault," he drawled. "I didn't want to come in the first place."
"But Captain! It wouldn't be same without you!" she said, her pout fading into
a smile when he only huffed and turned his head to resume his tries at ignoring
her. He pressed himself closer to the hard rock when he felt her hip come in
contact with his, to little help. Had she moved closer, or was it just him?
She started to pick up on the conversation they others were having, and soon
joined them in their debate on how much better it was to drink sake directly
from the bottle instead of a cup. After a minute, he gave up on trying to avoid
the contact of their hips and relaxed since nothing else was touching at the
moment. Another minute passed, and he almost jumped out of his skin when he
felt the smooth palm of her hand rest against his knee. He stared at her face
in disbelief – she wouldn't! – and quickly answered whoever had asked that he
was fine; completely fine.
But he wasn't.
Her hand slowly slid up his thigh, fingers pressing lightly, and stopped
awfully close to that place. His face felt incredibly hot, and he was sure he
was blushing. Hopefully, it would be dismissed as the doing of the hot water
and not for what was happening underneath the surface. He tried to make her
stop, tried to grab her hand and push it away, but it demanded to much
movement. He was torn between getting everyone's attention by yelling at her to
stop and remove her hand, or just threaten her with paperwork under his breath
to avoid too much embarrassment. Not that he hadn't had enough of it by now; he
just didn't want more to add to it.
"Matsumoto!" he hissed, her fingers making teasing circles on his skin. She
ignored him and continued to talk to the others; feeling very wicked as she
slipped her hand down to brush against something semi-hard. He gasped, unable
to control himself, and bit his tongue hard to silence the moan building up in
his throat. The people around them were too absorbed in their conversations
that they didn't notice him squirm, or how her arm moved slightly back and
forth.
It wasn't until the water turned icily cold that they turned their attention to
the red-faced Captain. He looked furious, and his eyes had a wild look in them.
His lieutenant sat grinning innocently beside him, shivering at the cold but
otherwise looking pretty satisfied for some reason.
"We should get up now," Renji suggested, sweatdropping. The others agreed, and
the men and women went their separate ways. Matsumoto was about to make her way
towards the small tunnel-like path leading into the ladies' dressing room, but
her Captain swiftly grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. They were
almost alone by now, but he waited until the last person exited the spring.
"You are not leaving me like this!" he hissed, his tensed muscles almost
shaking.
"Tsk tsk Captain; don't dirty the water!" she said, grinning widely. "I'll make
it up to you."
Bending out of his grip, she left him seething in anger but he didn't stop her.
The now almost freezing cold water helped him calm down, and it wasn't long
until he was ready to go to the dressing room and leave.
"I wonder what pissed Captain Hitsugaya off so badly," Rukia mused as she and
Renji made their way down the street. The red-head shrugged, not willing to
speculate. He had been sitting beside Matsumoto, after all.
***** Strength *****
Toshiro sometimes wondered how much his lieutenant's famous rack actually
weighted, and how much strain they put on her back. He was a person of logic,
so of course he assumed that such huge assets weren't just soft and warm and
something to look at; but also quite a bother. They didn't just cut off his air
supply, but as his lieutenant often pointed out, they did the same to her
should she find herself in the wrong position. They seemed to be awfully close
to spilling out on the wrong occasions too, and since life was filled with
the wrongoccasions, she'd had enough practise; which explained her indifference
in embarrassing moment such as those.
Staring at the sleeping form of the woman occupying his thoughts, he wondered
how she dealt so well with the world in general. Not only her own problems, but
also others'. The betrayal of Aizen, Tousen and Gin had been a blow under the
belt, and as people bent over in pain and gritted their teeth at the effort of
recovering, she still stood tall in a sea of chaos. It was as if she knew her
smiles, her jolly behaviour, and her mere presence gave people the illusion of
strength they needed in order to heal. And thus, she shone like the lonely rays
of sun passing through a forest's roof. He didn't know if this was her way of
dealing with the pain, or if she already had accepted it with a maturity rarely
seen. Whatever it was, he took as much comfort as others by her kind actions.
It left him feeling terribly guilty. He took so much, but he didn't give
anything in return, did he? He wasn't sure how to repay her; how to show her
his infinite gratefulness at having her by his side watching his back and steps
throughout time.
Pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning on, he entered her room quietly.
He didn't know why he'd come here, perhaps he thought he could think of a way
to make her smile - to make her smile because of him, and not just for him.
Her sleeping face was relaxed, healthily shaped and beautifully framed by
strawberry-blonde locks spilling out wildly. He sat down beside her, softly
stroking her cheek. She was on her side, lips slightly parted as she breathed
deeply. He let his hand stray, watching it as he moved it down her neck and
slipping across her side to graze her back. He applied pressure to his touch as
he swirled his hand around in soothing circles; feeling tensed knots in her
otherwise relaxed muscles. If they were from keeping her shoulders set and her
back straight with a heavy luggage, or from something else, he didn't know. He
just hoped this act of kindness would forgive him for sneaking inside her rooms
while she was asleep, and made a mental note to try and make up for this invade
of privacy too when the chance arose. Good deeds rarely comes unpunished, he
mused as he heard her sigh in her sleep. Her lips pulled up in a smile and she
mumbled something that sounded awfully close to his name. He left before the
urge to slip down under her covers and sleep peacefully surrounded by her
warmth overtook him. He wasn't a child seeking comfort after all. He was her
Captain seeking amends for leaning so desperately against an already burdened
soul.
***** It's a matter of Knowledge *****
She was so annoyingly teasing. Her taunts and suggestive comments poked fun at
his mental resolve daily, driving him to the point where he snapped. It wasn't
just for the fact that her actions irritated him, but that they actually
affected him. Over the years, they had developed a strong friendship as well as
the loyal bound meant to be between a Captain and his lieutenant. Never mind
her dirty jokes or simply implying manner, that was just who she was. Outgoing,
outrageous, outstanding….
He knew he shouldn't take her games seriously, but every time she leaned in to
whisper in his ear, or drag him along by pulling his hand gently, something
tugged at his heart. He felt light, happy, but it drove him up the wall. He
couldn't reply when she asked him if she was beautiful, he couldn't reach up to
kiss away that sad smile of hers, because he wasn't her lover. He had no right
to harbour such deep feelings for his subordinate, when her blind trust pierced
him with guilt. Did she know he breathed in her scent as she hugged him close
to her chest? Did she know, that he watched her sleep on the couch rather than
working? Did she know, did she notice, how his heartbeat increased whenever she
smiled her sweet, genuine smile just for him? Perhaps she sensed his
embarrassment, his guilt and inexperienced raw love, but did she know?
He prayed she would stay blissfully ignorant for just a little while longer. He
had yet to figure out why he desperately wanted her to know, yet would rather
die than tell her.
***** May Flies *****
"Y'know what Captain?" Matsumoto said, breaking the silence with her smooth
voice. The white-haired boy sighed and turned his head to meet her bright eyes.
By the looks of it, she had just come across a piece of information that amazed
her. This could only end with a headache, he mused.
"I'm not a mind-reader Matsumoto," he drawled. The woman grinned as she muffled
a giggle behind her hand.
"Yes, and aren't we all glad!" she stated, but quickly continued as he shot her
a I-don't-have-time-for-this glare. "But anyway, did you know there's an insect
that only lives for a day?"
"Yes, actually I did Matsumoto. What's your point?"
"Oh, you did? Then do you know why they're called May flies?"
"No?"
"Oh, well, I don't know either. Pity. Anyway, as I was going to say, if you
were a may fly what would you do on your first and last day in life?"
His brows twitched in annoyance at her question. He didn't have time to deal
with her random character right now. He needed peace and quiet, so he could
finish these reports in time.
"I don't know Matsumoto. It wouldn't matter, since I wouldn't know I only had a
day to live now would I?"
"Hm, don't you think they at least sense they're going to die? And stop being
so logical! Use you imagination for once!"
He sighed again, headache growing strong. How could he end this as quickly as
possible? He wasn't surprised to realize he had to play along and let the
insufferable woman have her way.
"Alright, I would do whatever may flies do, then drop down dead. How about
you?"
She promptly ignored his sarcasm and broke into a radiant smile; overjoyed that
he'd asked her.
"Oooh! I would fly into the bar and have some free sake then I would fly into
the office and annoy the hell out of you!" she exclaimed, barely containing a
laugh as she took in the look on her Captain's face.
"The point of this discussion was…?"
"Oh, I don't know. How you never want me to turn into a may fly?"
He really didn't want her to turn into a may fly. Not just because she would
spend her only day in life annoying him, but because 24 hours of Matsumoto
weren't enough. Sometimes, things like these made him realize how sad it was
that you never got the time you needed. Would an eternity even be long enough?
***** Leg Fetish *****
Hitsugaya Toshiro had always considered himself pretty mature and calm when it
came to sexual information and interaction. However, Matsumoto always made him
question himself. He might be inexperienced, but he knew enough of the theory
and could guess the rest. This was probably the kind of attitude that triggered
it all. Matsumoto didn't like theory, she prefer the real deal as she called
it. So, she developed a habit of flirting endlessly with him or in front of him
when anything resembling a male walked by. It was annoying, but what made it
worse what that he knew her reasons and yet she continued even though they both
knew it was just to test his precious theory. It almost worked, because
whenever she brushed past him with that smile, or eyed him with those icy orbs,
he asked himself why he was acting so childishly stubborn if he now was as
mature and calm about this as he claimed.
But what did him in wasn't what he'd expected.
He'd seen her breasts once, since they accentually spilled out and he'd quickly
moved to stand in the way of the few males walking by so they wouldn't see.
When she'd only laughed and put them back in, he'd scolded himself for being
naïve enough to think she would've been affected at all by that incident. The
affectionate press of lips on his cheeks and the whispered thank you had made
him change his mind.
He'd also seen her elegant neck and thin arms on more frequent occasions. He
even remembering seeing her ears, otherwise covered by her hair, as a wind
lifted the strawberry-locks like a curtain. She even took off her shoes and
socks on warm days, to spread her strangely perfect toes, and left two narrow
feet for him to see. Then there was her constantly exposed cleavage.
What he hadn't seen though was her legs. But standing in nothing but a towel,
her hair up in a bun, Toshiro saw more than her chest, neck, arms and ears. He
saw them. They were slim and looked very strong; her muscles firm underneath
silky skin. She was still damp from the bath she'd taken, and the drops of
water shone in the light as the slowly traced the form of her thighs and the
curve of her calves. He never thought they could be so perfect, so unscarred
and elegant, that he almost couldn't take his eyes away. He'd never considered
himself being even a bit kinky or anything of that sort before.
But Hitsugaya Toshiro had a fetish. For Matsumoto Rangiku's legs.
***** Birthdays *****
He remembered the first time he danced. It was on his first birthday that he
celebrated with his busty lieutenant on the first year they'd met each other.
Of course, at the time he hadn't even planned on having more of a celebration
than he usually had. At the time, he didn't know she had found out when his
birthday was. But as it turned out, nothing escapes Matsumoto Rangiku.
Bouncing of joy and smiling in smugness, she'd entered the office with her
hands behind her back. He hadn't been able to do much, and had watched with
wide eyes as she put down a nicely wrapped present on his desk before pulling
him out of his chair for a dance. She'd been drunk, as per usual, and as she
led him clumsily across the floor he almost failed to prevent her from tripping
and hitting her head pretty badly on her desk. When he'd calmed her down, and
asked her what was going on, she'd replied that she loved birthdays. She said
she'd been dying to know when his was, and after a talk with his childhood
friend Hinamori, she finally possessed the knowledge. He'd chosen to ignore
this and open his present, revealing a new brush and inkpot with beautiful
patterns carved in.
As the years passed, he grew more and more used Matsumoto's peculiar love for
birthdays; others' and her own. Thus it was with a great pang of confusion he
received the request to forget her birthday and any present he'd planned to get
her. He couldn't understand the serious face she gave him, or the sad smile as
he asked herwhy?
"It's not my real birthday," she'd explained quietly. He got no more out of
her, and it annoyed him to not know what made that day so special is it wasn't
her real birthday. He would continue to wonder, until the day finally arrived.
He found her sitting alone in the bar, eyes distant and sad as they always were
when she thought of Gin. Approaching, he quietly sat down opposite of her and
pierced the bubble she was in with his blue-green eyes.
"I don't know my real age or my real birthday," she began, "because I've always
been alone. But then, Gin appeared. I was exhausted, lying on the ground almost
starving to death. He offered food and shelter."
He stayed quiet as she told her story, watching the emotions play across her
face, and it was enough because she continued with a slightly clearer voice.
"He asked me when my birthday was, and I told him I didn't have one. So he gave
me that too. He said that the day we met, the day I wasn't alone anymore, would
be my birthday. I was so happy." Her voice slowly faded away, still smooth and
even and not shaky from the sadness playing behind her eyes. He wondered if she
had told this story about her past before, after Gin's betrayal. He doubted it.
A warm feeling burned at his heart as he met her gaze. He felt special, and
proud to know something like this about the beautiful woman. He felt a need to
take her hand, to squeeze it in a gesture of comfort and gratitude. He
hesitated as she turned her gaze away, looking out the window, but gave in and
took her hand in his.
If she wanted, they could share his birthday.
 
***** Truth *****
"Stop it! We are not doing it here!" he hissed, fighting off eager hands. His
robes were already half open when he managed to grab her wrists and force them
off his person. The strawberry-blonde attempted to pout but failed as she broke
into a grin. Leaning down, she captured his lips in a passionate kiss; ignoring
his wishes happily. As he absently kissed her back, he tried to decide what to
do. He could let go of her hands, and push her away, but then he'd probably
lose his clothes to the hungry woman. No, he'd have to either give in or take
her somewhere else where it was safe and where he didn't have to worry about
someone walking in on them. It was too early to let the world know the icy
Captain had finally given in to his lieutenant's charms.
"Matsumoto! STOP!" he gasped when she finally broke their kiss; bending free
from his relaxed grip to tug at his clothes impatiently. She didn't listen or
stop attacking him with kisses and touches, and he felt he needed to act fast.
He surprised her by knocking her down on the floor; pinning her down with his
hands on her wrists on either side of her head while he straddled her hips. She
grinned up at him, the heat emitting from her eyes as exciting as ever. He
couldn't help it; he leaned down and kissed her deeply as their moans mixed
like pleasant music in the silent office.
He was going to stop soon, honestly, he was. But it couldn't hurt to kiss her a
bit more, could it? His thoughts shattered as he felt her hips grind against
his crotch; causing him to gasp and almost choke on a low groan. She was
trapped underneath him, yet he didn't feel dominant at all. Growling, he left
her lips to nibble at her earlobe; licking and sucking at the sensitive skin of
her neck. He took pleasure in knowing there would be marks left on her pale
skin; a proof that she was his. He absently wondered if the marks from last
night were still visible on her stomach and lower, but just as he made his way
to check; someone gasped loudly.
The loud gasp was followed by several things hitting the floor, and the two
lovers snapped their heads up to stare with wide eyes at the intruder. Standing
in the doorway was their poor 4th seat, with heavy stacks of paper and folders
spread around her feet. Matsumoto felt a pang of pity for the girl as she ran
away with tears in her eyes. She didn't help her Captain understand as he
stared dumbfounded at the empty doorway, but chose to keep the girl's crush on
him secret. It saved the poor thing from embarrassment, right? Hitsugaya
Toshiro only wanted her, according to his previous words a few days ago, so the
girl would be rejected. To test his truthfulness, Matsumoto reached down and
lightly brushed the bulge in his loose pants. He hissed and tensed, looking
down at her with narrowed eyes; lust barely concealed with anger. Perhaps he
had been telling her the truth then.
***** Cycle of Horror *****
Matsumoto had been acting strange for the past two days. Perhaps it was to be
expected, since he had only known her for about three weeks and should by no
means know her behaviour pattern yet. Even so, her new Captain felt that
something wasn't….right. He had seen her frown before, but it had always been
with either a pout or a mocking edge to it. Now, however, she was sitting by
her desk, frowning and glaring a hole in her stack of paperwork. This was, by
no means, something new. He'd seen her do it the first few days of his
Captainship. But, he noted, she had never looked to truthfully bothered. It was
like she wanted to whine, and complain, but instead of doing it she kept quiet
and ever so slowly she made her way through dull reports and requests. This was
something completely alien. And it didn't feel right. He knew he should accept
this new attitude of hers, and add it to what he knew of her, but he couldn't.
It felt like he needed to do something, but he had no idea what.
"Captain?" she called, titling her head and shooting him a puzzled look. He'd
been staring, and a light blush spread across his cheeks when he realized this.
The feeling of getting caught doing something he shouldn't returned and
memories of their first meeting flooded back into his mind. He'd been expecting
her, but what he'd seen as she'd entered their office hadn't been anything near
the meek-looking woman he'd had in mind. Her chest had immediately caught his
attention, and he'd blushed when she'd sent him a knowing grin. He felt the
same now as he did then, but this time he didn't remove his eyes from her but
kept staring straight into her icy-blue eyes. She shifted under his gaze,
trying to hide a wince as her breasts bobbed lightly. He resisted the urge to
lower his eyes, and absently noted that there was, in fact, something wrong
with his lieutenant.
"What's the matter, Matsumoto?" he asked, leaning forward. "Are you unwell?"
For the first time, she blushed. The image would be burned into his mind
forever, without doubt. It wasn't a blush of shyness, but of embarrassment. He
had dismissed the possibility of her having anything even resembling modesty
when she'd crushed his, her newly assigned Captain and complete stranger by
then, face into the valley of her….things…in a literally breathtaking hug.
"Err, nothing Captain! What makes you say that?" she asked, laughing nervously.
She winced again, the movements obviously a bit painful. Could it be a
hangover? But she'd never acted like this over one of those before, and the way
she kept massaging her lower stomach perked his curiosity.
"You should go to the 4th division, Matsumoto. If you're feeling ill, then do
something about it," he said, frowning. The woman breathed in deep before
letting it out and collapsing on her desk. Her face held a miserable expression
as she stared at her Captain with a look of helplessness.
"You really don't know, do you?" she asked off-handily. Her question, sounding
more like a statement, made him stiffen and feel slightly offended. He knew
lots of things, he wasn't called a genius for nothing!
"I don't know what?"
"The pain of being a woman! The torture of fertileness! The endless cycle of
horror! The aching week of the month! The heightened sensitivity of every
damned sense you could name! The bloody hormone-feast that's scheduled to host
at least twelve times a year! That thing that shouldn't haunt dead souls! THAT
THING!" she finally burst out; her temper snapping at the strain she'd put on
it. Her Captain sat staring at her, eyes wide in realization and cheeks alit in
the most glowing colour of red she'd seen.
"You have the day off," he announced after a few moments, breaking the silence
that followed her outburst. He really, really didn't want to get involved with
the nature of females; especially his own lieutenant's. As she left their
office with cheerful thanks, he breathed out a sigh of relief.
For that day on, Matsumoto suspected her Captain knew as well as she did when
it was that time of the month again. Not that she minded, if she played her
cards right she got a free day off after all….
***** Fast Food *****
Matsumoto was overjoyed; she'd found a most wonderful place after a long day
shopping. But it was nothing compared to her Captain, who'd been dragged along
for the simple reason that he needed one shirt and onepair of pants. He slumped
down on the chair in the 'restaurant' and frankly didn't give a damn if his
lieutenant ordered something distasteful for him or not. The name of this food
place was The Kebab Bar, and it had caught his alcoholic subordinate's eyes
immediately. The fact that she knew kebab was food, when he had not the
slightest idea what it was, seemed to only further strengthen her absolute
pressing need to go to this bar thingy.
Much to her discharge, she found out that it was only a place to buy food.
Nevertheless, she was hungry. So she ordered a medium kebab for her and a big
'kebab plate' for her Captain since she had no idea what it was and she wanted
to know. Ordering the brownish, bubbly drink called coke (which she had taken a
liking to, since it tickled her nose if she drank too fast) and something
called 'sprite' for her white-haired companion.
"Here you go!" she chirped, placing the tray with the food on the table. The
nice clerk followed closely behind and put down a second one, which was hers.
She thanked him before sitting down and giving Toshiro his wallet back.
"Oooh this is delicious!" she exclaimed after the first bite as he pocketed his
black wallet. He raised a brow and grabbed the fork beside his huge plate of
what looked like pieces meat covered with a pink sauce and lots of fries. Green
leaves with the name cabbage and various other vegetables lay in a pile among
the enormous sea of food, and he dimly wondered if he would be able to eat even
a third of this monstrous dish. Taking a bite, he had to admit it was good.
Very good, in fact. He watched with an amused smile as Matsumoto gave the name
of fast food a new meaning; stuffing herself with the weird meat. She didn't
have a plate like he did, but hers was in a piece of bread and there was no
fries. He didn't want to know why she'd ordered something different for him,
since he already knew it wasn't out of kindness.
"I'm stuffed!" she finally announced, everything but the paper that had kept
her food together gone. She had most of her drink left, and sat sipping
contently as she waited for him. To his surprise, he had already managed to get
half of the content on his plate down. He gave up as he finished the second
half, and quickly took a big gulp of his drink before fighting down a burp that
would embarrass him to no end. Matsumoto didn't possess the same knowledge of
manners, or perhaps she just didn't care, and gladly let the world know she had
indeed enjoyed her meal.
"Urgh, Captain, I need to pee!" she whined as he sighed and leaned back in the
chair. What delicate choice of words for a lady.
"They have toilets here," he noted, looking around and spotting the sign WC a
bit further down.
"Ah good!"
"Drink up," he ordered when she made no move to stand up, "and get going."
"But Captaaaiiin, if I drink more I'm gonna wet my pants for sure!"
He stared at her, wondering how she could be lieutenant with that kind of
intelligence and memory.
"I thought you were going to the toilet?"
"OH!," she exclaimed, realizing her stupidity before bursting out laughing. He
watched her stand and walk over to the toilets, giggling slightly. His lips
turned up in a smile and he shook his head while sighing. He was exhausted
after the shopping; head almost spinning after all the clothes he'd seen
Matsumoto try on. Okay, so today hadn't been that bad. But still, his feet
were sore dammit. Seeing Matsumoto in flimsy dresses and beautiful gowns didn't
make them better, despite the pleasant memories etched in his mind.
***** Regrets *****
Chapter Summary
     WARNING: Major Character Death
She was willing to do anything for him. He wasn't aware of this, and she didn't
care that it caused him to act ignorant without him realizing it. She was the
only one to see him acting like such a fool anyway, because she was the only
who knew. When he yelled at her for acting too rash in battles, or when he
ordered her to think of herself instead of everyone else, he didn't know the
reason to her secret smile or mocking sigh. And she was fine with that, because
she didn't think he would like the truth. No, she didn't think he'd like it at
all. Yet she felt the need to tell him, at least once, before she died.
Her stomach was pierced; blood seeping out of a deep, deep wound that would
never be healed in time. She stood between two men, two people she loved beyond
words. The sword that was planted so deep within her was meant for her Captain,
the man behind her. She couldn't always watch his back, sometimes she needed to
block the blows to his face too.
Her lips turned up in a smile as she stared into the eyes of the man who had
given her life, and was now taking it away. They were usually closed, but now
as he stared at what he'd done, they were wide open in horror. He knew she
would die, he knew she'd give up her life for her Captain. He knew, that he'd
broken the one promise he'd wanted to keep; to never, ever, turn his sword
against Matsumoto Rangiku.
"MATSUMOTO!" His opponent, the short white-haired boy, voiced his own pain in
the form of her name. The woman panted as Gin slowly removed his sword, staring
into her blue eyes as she dropped to her knees; the only thing keeping her up
the arms of her Captain.
"Just thought you should know," she mumbled, "that I love you, Toshiro."
As the life in her eyes disappeared, the shocked boy didn't know how to react.
She had been right; he didn't like the truth. Now he didn't have much else but
regrets; regrets of not taking the risk, not taking the chance, and admit to
his heart that he loved her more than she could've ever imagine.
***** Woman *****
How long had she been at it? He didn't know, but he desperately wanted her to
stop. He barely knew what he agreed to do, but he didn't care as long as she
shut up and promised to leave him alone afterwards.
"Thank you Captain!" she said in a happy voice; smiling brightly at the
frowning boy.
"What was it you wanted me to do?" he asked as she dragged him towards the
bathroom. She didn't answer, but pushed him down on the toilet seat and went
over to the washbasin to fish up a plastic can from steaming hot water. He
watched with puzzlement as she dipped a flat wooden stick into whatever the
thing contained and started to stir. She sat down on the floor before him, and
put the can between her legs which were pulled up a bit.
"I want you to wax my legs Captain," she explained with a smile. He stared at
her, not quite understanding.
"Wax your legs? Are you going to turn them into candles or what?" he asked,
annoyed. The blonde laughed and shook her head, smiling at his ignorance.
"No, I'm not. You'll see. I'm gonna apply this wax, then you take one of
these," she paused to show him a neat pile of paper-like slips before
continuing, "and put them on the spot. Then you pull slightly at my skin,
backwards, and you jerk the slip a bit upwards and against the way the hairs
grow. Make sure to pull it fast, okay?"
"It sounds painful," he noted with a raised brow. "Why do you need to have this
done?"
She sighed deeply, as if he had just asked something very stupid. He scowled
but waited for an answer as she applied the brownish wax on her leg.
"Because," she began, spreading the wax evenly with the wooden stick, "I need
it to be beautiful!"
He bent down to take one of the slips, gently pressing it against the trail of
warm substance, and raised a brow at her words.
"You don't need wax to be beautiful Matsumoto," he said with a frown. This
whole thing was ridiculous!
"Aww, Captain! That would've been so romantic if you didn't sound so angry."
She smiled at him, meeting his annoyed glare unfazed. He knew what to say, just
not how, she mused as a warm feeling spread through her body. She barely
noticed when he put his hand on her leg and pulled slightly backwards. She let
out a strangled yelp as he jerked the slip away; tears forming in the corners
of her eyes at the unexpected pain.
"Matsumoto?" he asked, concerned. "Are you alirgiht?"
"I'm fine!" she gulped, blinking away the salty water. "Just fine! Continue!"
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why do you insist on doing this if
it hurts so much?"
"But Captaaaiiin," she whined, "I have to look my best! I can't go around
with hairy legs; that's just disgusting!"
"Matsumoto, no one but me sees your legs because you're in your uniform, so
they wouldn't know, now would they?" he said, pausing to look away and blush
slightly before continuing. "And it's not like they'd notice anyway; your
hair's too light."
"Aww, you're right; it's only you who sees my bare legs," she cooed smiling;
moving up to sit on her knees between his legs. Placing her hands on either one
of his thighs, she leaned up and kissed him softly. He responded with a quiet
sigh; placing one hand on her neck while the other closed over her right hand.
She pulled back an inch or two to stare into his eyes; still smiling.
"And that's exactly why I have to look my best, isn't it?" He blushed at the
sultry tone in her voice, but didn't pull away when she pressed her lips
against his again. Dimly he thought that she didn't have to go through all the
trouble of trying to look good when she already did, and he wondered why she
wouldn't accept the fact that she needn't do anything. It would suit her lazy
character, right? But then again, she was a woman.
***** Organized Chaos *****
He often found himself wondering how they'd ended up here. His bubbly,
carefree, annoying and brilliant lieutenant – and himself; serious, dutiful and
patient – together. They were opposites; they created chaos with the clashing
of personalities. His hair; white as snow - his eyes; the colour of the chilly
sea. Her hair; wild and bright like fire – her eyes; icy and cold like the
thunderstorm. Frozen water and burned ash.
Yet they worked together like the scent of flowers in the wind, like the pen on
paper. As they fought, they watched each other's back. As they argued, they
were sorry. When they kissed, they tasted heaven. When they made love, they
moved in sync.
And when he found himself wondering how they survived, he had to settle with
the fact that chaos could sometimes be organized, no matter how illogical this
was.
***** Practise *****
He hadn't known she possessed one of those. He had always thought she always
kept them free; unrestrained. But apparently, she thought it looked sexy to
wear it and thus didn't care that they barely fit in those cups. And thus, he
was faced with a problem he had thought he would never have to deal with.
The unclasping of a bra.
How was he supposed to learn that? So far, he'd escaped the awkward situation
of removing her underwear but how long would that last, he wondered. He decided
that he should practise on one of her bras, and cursed heaven and hell for
putting him through these embarrassing trials.
Slipping a white, remotely plain (except for the pink laces), bra into the
layers of his clothes he left her rooms early to get to work. As the day wore
on, he avoided the curious looks from his lieutenant in slight shame for
walking around with her underwear in his pocket. What he was going to do with
it didn't help his conscience at all.
Finally finding himself alone, and locked up in his own rooms, the white-haired
Captain removed the frilly object from its hiding place. Holding it in his
hand, he stared at it and marvelled at its sheer size. Twisting at turning it
in his grip, he concluded that it was special made, because Matsumoto might
have a huge rack but she sure as hell wasn't fat. And the size of the band made
to go around her chest wasn't proportional with the cups, not at all.
Looking around, he spotted his pillow and went to get it. He sat down and
positioned himself on the neatly made futon before putting the pillow in his
lap and setting to work. It took him a few tries to fasten the annoying thing,
and he cursed lightly at the thought of having to undo it.
"Alright," he breathed, staring down at the pillow in front of him. His cheeks
burned in embarrassment, and he couldn't help but glance towards the door every
now and then. He had locked it, but still… Inhaling deeply, he reached around
the soft pillow and looked away. His fingers sought out the clasp, and fumbled
around before he got a remotely good grip. After thirty seconds, he finally
succeeded in undoing it.
Now, he needed to work on the speed….
                                      -o-
"Oh, Captain, where did you learn that?" Matsumoto asked with slight wonder. At
his deep blush, she made a mental note to find out. But right now, they had
other things to do…
***** Trash *****
"Matsumoto, take this," he ordered, pushing a plastic jar with leftovers into
her unwilling hands. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but did as told when he
shot her a cold glare. They had spent enough time arguing already.
Walking away towards the giant container where you got rid of trash and God
knows what, Matsumoto took a deep breath and held it; refusing to take in the
stale air when she arrived at the big stinking box of metal. Today they were
helping Inoue clean her apartment, and had borrowed Ichigo's father's car to go
to the big dump where you left things such as metal cans and what-not. Sadly,
there had been several plastic jars and cans with leftovers in the car and as
the dutiful and annoyingly proper Captain he was, he had decided they should
clean them out while they were at it. Since she hadn't wanted to touch the
weird objects going straight into the 'metal' trash, he'd assigned her to the
moulding food.
"Urgh," she mumbled as she tried to shake the creamy content out of the box. It
hit the rest of the trash with a nauseating sound, and with a final hard shake,
she was going to get rid of the last of it. But her grip slipped and the whole
thing went flying down into the disgusting trash.
"Wopps," she said, blinking. She turned around and watched as her Captain threw
bag after bag into different containers.
"Wopps," she repeated, this time with a slight smirk tugging at her lips. She
walked over to her Captain, pouting lightly.
"Captain?" she called. He turned and raised a brow, noticing the look on her
face.
"Yes?"
"I dropped the jar!" she said, smiling. He growled and pinched the bridge of
his nose; beyond annoyed. She'd been a pain in the ass all day because of the
cleaning, and now this?
"Oh, and before you say anything, I am NOT fetching it. It's too far down, I
can't reach it. And I'm too big to climb in, so you do it if you really want it
back." He watched her as she walked back to the car, swaying her hips smugly as
he stood trying to decide what to do. Should he fetch it? Looking over to the
container, he decided against it. He'd just buy the man a new one if needed.
***** Bella Notte *****
"What do you want?" he asked, looking over the menu to gaze into the frowning
face of his lieutenant. She was deep in thought, wondering what would suit her
taste. Finally, she looked up but didn't notice his blush, since he covered
most of his face with the menu.
"I think I'll take number five," she said with a smile. Picking up the glass of
wine she'd ordered, she took a sip and placed her elbows on the table. He
nodded and went back to stare at the page filled with weird and delicious
dishes. It was their first time eating out like this, like a couple, and his
very first time going out with a woman – work aside.
"I think I'll take the same," he said after a while, unable to find anything
better and frankly losing interest in trying to decide. She smiled fondly at
him, making his blush deepen as he put the menu down and waited for a waiter.
They made their order and soon sat conversing lightly, something he'd thought
would be hard and awkward. Such an idiot, it was Matsumoto after all. The
evening went by quickly, and the nervous knot in his stomach was gone and
forgotten as they finished up desert.
"Thank you," she said, taking a gentle hold of his arm as the walked out of the
expensive restaurant. He looked away, trying to hide his blush, and shrugged.
"Don't worry about it."
They walked in silence for a while, breathing in the fresh night's air and
enjoying each other's company and warmth. He looked up at her in surprise as
she stopped; her eyes glued to the sky as a small smile played across her lips.
"It's a beautiful night," she said, the light of the moon and stars hitting her
face and making her eyes seem like the finest silver. Her heavy locks shone,
falling down her shoulders in soft waves, and he stared enchanted at the sight
before him.
"Yes, yes it is," he agreed, smiling softly. "Breathtaking."
***** Cause *****
Chapter Summary
     For the upcoming chapters...copy-pasted A/N from original post,
     because in that I didn't post the drabbles like chapters, but rather
     posted a few drabbles together in the same chapters. So, uh. Yeah.
     (Shut up I'm being lazy here but omfg over 90 drabbles to re-post I
     am so copy-pasting this shit omfg). So yeah from original A/N:
     "Anyhow, number 19 is so TOTALLY based on the song 'Girlfriend' with
     Avril lol. And number 21 is based on a Swedish song named 'Emma,
     Emma' by Marcoolio that's just so awesome haha and number 22 is based
     on 'Shut up (and sleep with me)' with Sin with Sabastian."
He'd always thought it was because of the large intake of sake, but now he
suspected it was something else entirely. Come to think of it, she'd always
been drinking with Gin when she ended up like this the next day. He hadn't
taken notice in the beginning, but dismissed it as payment for drinking way too
much. Then he walked in on her dancing with Kira, bottles all around, and
jumped to the conclusion she was just sore from the unnatural movements she
practised when the part of her brain in charge for motion were drowning in
alcohol.
But as he watched her slowly sit down by her desk, wincing slightly, he
seriously started to rethink his naïve assumptions that her meetings with Gin
were merely twenty bottles of sake and some harmless talking. Because now,
while watching the same signs that had occurred back then, he knew what the
cause of all her little winces and satisfied smiles shot his way was.
And it certainly wasn't sake, or physically impossible dancing.
Well…at least not dancing…
***** Stubborn *****
It irked her that he could be with Momo, while stealing glances at his
lieutenant. Namely, herself. She knew the look in his eyes when he watched her,
she knew the feeling in her stomach when his hand brushed hers any moment they
could. He wasn't cheating on his girlfriend when he blushed at his lieutenant's
smiles. He wasn't cheating, when he talked about her all the time. But it
annoyed her, because she knew. She knew he liked her, and not the girl by his
side.
Hinamori Momo was a sweet girl, really, she was. Only, Matsumoto didn't like
her. The girl made her uncomfortable, her naïve way of life treading
dangerously on the blonde's nerves. Besides, she had tried to kill her old
childhood friend. Not even Gin had done that.
And not only that – the brilliant child prodigy of the 10th division could do
so much better. Most thought he should get together with his lieutenant, who
personally really wouldn't mind. In fact, she sometimes wished for the current
girlfriend to disappear. Well, she had to admit wanting Momo to disappear
wasn't fair. But the status and title of girlfriend was another thing.
No, Matsumoto Rangiku mused, he really needs a new one.
He already knew what she felt; it wasn't a secret that she adored him. But he
has yet to realize how addictive he is, or how easy it would be to get what
they both want. She seriously wondered what the hell he was thinking when he
started going out with Hinamori; it was so painfully obvious another woman
occupied his thoughts.
So she just needed to break down his stubbornness, how hard could it be?
***** Rushed Meeting *****
Chapter Summary
     Obviously written before the Hitsugaya-Matsumoto backstory.
Toshiro looked up at the huge buildings and surrounding grounds, wondering what
the hell he was doing. Whatever had changed his mind about this?
Who would want to go to a school for Shinigamis?
Well, he was here now. Mostly because of one Hinamori Momo, but as he shifted
the weight from one foot to the other and contemplated his chances of
succeeding in the weird classes she'd mentioned, the white-haired boy was
wondering why he hadn't left already.
Sighing, he was about to walk through the gates when a young Shinigami woman
appeared by his side. He looked up, startled, and met a pair of stormy blue
eyes. Strawberry-blonde locks fell down her shoulders as she straightened
herself after the shunpo that had taken her here.
"Oh, look here," she began with a warm smile, "a new student, eh?"
Toshiro blushed as she bent down, coming into an awkward eye-level. She was
beautiful, he noted. She was different from Momo, her full lips pulled up in a
calming smile adults used towards children. She seemed strong, and the warm
spiritual power that came off of her felt secure and reliable. Besides, the
armband hanging down on her side indicated she was a Lieutenant of the 10th
division.
"Ah, yeah," he responded, suddenly feeling very small compared to the figure
before him. The woman giggled, standing up straight to observe him with
interest.
"So, what's your name boy?" she asked. He crossed his arms and huffed, not
liking the way her voice seemed to tease him.
"Hitsugaya Toshiro."
"Aw, a little Shiro-chan!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. He was
about to protest when she gave him that smile again, and the words died in his
throat. She couldn't know he hated that nickname, so why should he scold her
for it?
"Why did you become a Shinigami?" he suddenly asked, curious. He had always
wondered why people went to the academy and got educated for a job that held
such responsibilities. The woman seemed surprised, but soon hummed and tapped
her finger against her chin in contemplation.
"I followed a dear friend of mine, because I didn't want to be left alone," she
finally said, her bright voice evening out into a serious tone. "And now I can
finally protect someone."
He blinked, teal eyes reflecting puzzlement. She grinned and patted his head,
bending down to come eye-to-eye again.
"Become a great Shinigami, Toshiro-kun," she said with a wink, smiling before
she stood and turned to leave.
"Wait!" he called, but it was too late. The woman had already shunponed away,
and left behind a trail of dust. He had forgotten to ask for her name. Sighing,
he turned and decided to resign to his fate. Walking towards the gates leading
into the Academy, he wondered if he would be able to see the beautiful woman of
the 10th division again.
 
***** Control *****
"Caaaptaaaiiin, huuurry!!" the whining voice of Matsumoto Rangiku sounded in
his ear. Growling, Toshiro ran down the street; heart pounding in his chest.
"Just wait, will you?" he said, jumping down the stairs leading down to the
park. He moved fast, running past the few people still out. The night's air was
cold, and his short breaths came out in small puffs of steam.
"But Caaptaaiin, the clock is ticking!" she retorted, letting out a moan as the
sentence ended. He gritted his teeth, trying hard not to fall on the many rocks
and sticks scattered across the path he was running down.
"I'm about to explode; if you don't hurry I'll take thing in my own hands!"
"Dammit woman, I'm on my way!" he yelled, slightly desperate. If possible, he
ran faster and was out of the park in record time. Not much left now. He could
hear her moan in the phone pressed tightly against his ear, the sound driving
him mad as he crossed the street without looking out for cars. Screw them;
there was a maiden in need! Well, not really a maiden, but still.
"Captaaiin," she moaned; the sound of sheets dull in the
background. "I'm desperate!"
"I know, I'm soon there, okay?!" The respond was another moan, followed by a
slight gasp. He growled, blood pumping through his body and beating in his
ears, lips pulling up in a feral grin when he saw the apartment building.
"Wait for me, okay?" he said before finally hanging up, reaching for the key in
his pocket as he slowed his running and unlocked the door. He took the stairs,
running up like a mad man with hell's fire at his heels. Arriving to the right
floor, and ripping the door to their flat open, Toshiro was immediately pulled
inside and attacked by a warm, wet mouth.
"Finally!" the strawberry-blonde moaned against his lips, tugging roughly at
his shirt as she led him further into the room. He was panting, and close to
exhausted, but pushed her down on the couch with little problem.
Really, she needed to control herself. But then again, so did he.
***** Tension *****
Matsumoto stifled a yawn, wondering how someone so cute could be so damned
boring. He was the new Captain of her division, her new superior that she was
going to spend a large amount of time working with, and he was already boring
her to death with his formal and precise speech of what he expected her to do
and what-not. Something about a new work ethic, and how he demanded respect and
attention. Sighing miserably, she tried to think of something to lighten the
mood. All this tension needed to go.
"Captain?" she suddenly said in an even voice, interrupting his rant about her
lack of enthusiasm. He fell silent and stared, surprised that she could sound
serious.
"Yes?" he asked, raising a white brow in question. She returned his gaze
steadily, face straight and mouth set. After a week of random comments and
vulgar jokes, was she really going to ask something intelligent? He could
barely wait.
"Why don't you sleep with me?"
***** Difference *****
At first, she'd been very keen on being on top. He hadn't minded since he knew
close to nothing about where to touch, what to do or how to please. Besides, it
feels so good the way she grinds against him, the way she scrapes her nails
along his chest and throws her head back – causing strawberry-blonde locks to
create a beautiful halo as it flies freely around her.
The first time they'd done it, he'd done nothing but watch with fascination as
she moved and excited his senses in ways he'd never even had time to dream of.
His imagination hadn't taken him far, and she showed him pleasure he couldn't
even name.
As the nights wore on, he'd begun to explore her, touch her, and found this
just as enjoyable as everything else. Her skin was always warm, always so
smooth and sensitive underneath his touch. He could make her moan his name,
could drive her on as she took them up high before dragging him down to earth
in a way that seemed to shatter the world; to stop time and space.
He found himself pretty happy with this situation, but she'd begun to whine and
complain that she was doing all the work. It wasn't true; he put his own
efforts in. And besides, she always left him with all the work in the office,
so it was only fair, right?
Hearing this argument, Matsumoto decided to show him the difference.
***** Alcohol *****
Toshiro seriously regretted ever trying to convert Matsumoto into drinking
something else than sake. She had ended up trying all the alcohol in the living
world, taking great pleasure in outsmarting her Captain as he had forgotten to
mention that the drinks had to be none-alcoholic.
After several nights (and days) of drinking, Matsumoto came to the conclusion
vodka, whiskey, tequila, wine and beer were the most delicious drugs she'd ever
tasted (apart from sake) and Toshiro had thought that had been the worst part
of their stay in the living world.
Oh gosh, was he wrong.
The first incident involved beer. It had taken Matsumoto approximately a week
to find out that in Germany, and various other countries, there was a festival.
A festival focusing on drinking beer. As she'd dragged him to the airport, he
thought he'd heard her say something about Oktoberfest but he wasn't sure. He'd
been busy trying to find a way out of the situation he was in. He had, the
previous night, somehow promised to take her on vacation. He couldn't really
remember how or why he had promised her that, but apparently, he'd had too much
to drink (tequila body shots had proved to be a very pleasant way to get
drunk).
After almost a full week of a constantly drunk Matsumoto, Toshiro had finally
reached his absolute limit (he had a pretty high limit after years with her,
but this had just been too much) and promptly pulled her into a taxi and pushed
her inside the next plane to Japan with little effort. All he had to do was to
remind her that the booze was for free; since they travelled in first class (he
figured there would be more in Matsumoto's state because of this, and thus,
they would melt in better).
When they got back to the safe familiarity of Japan, Toshiro almost allowed
himself to breathe out. He hated alcohol with a new kind of passion now, but
when Matsumoto pulled out a bottle of tequila he decided that sometimes, it was
bearable.
 
***** Daring *****
"Absolutely no, Matsumoto."
"But Captain she's allowed to have it! Why can't I get one too?"
"Because, I said no. I do not care if she is allowed to, all that matters is
that you are not."
"Whyyyyy?? It's pretty and it wouldn't bother you! Unless you secretly don't
want anyone else to see me in it? You don't want to share your lovely,
beautiful lieutenant?"
"……"
"Awww! That's so cute Captain! I never knew!"
"Get off Matsumoto! Stop this nonsense!"
"Please Captain? Pretty please? Just for one day?"
"Fine, whatever! Now let go of me!"
"Thank you Captain!"
The Captain of the 10th division later cursed his weak resolve as his
lieutenant walked in with a mini-shirt fit to rival one Kurotsuchi Nemu the
very next day. He didn't think he would ever live to see a day as long as this
one.
***** Good Thing *****
He had known from the beginning it was going to end in a disaster. It was bound
to be, and he wasn't alone in this assumption. But Matsumoto Rangiku had her
mind set, and she would bend to no one.
Kuchiki Rukia was defiantly doing the wedding-invitation cards.
First, he'd tried for several days to make her change her mind. It's not that
he really cared, but he had some dignity left to protect. He didn't think he'd
live it down, but after a while he couldn't find the energy to continue with
his futile attempts at changing his fiancée's mind. He just had to accept that
the cards would be pink with unrecognisable figures consisting of clashing
colours and lots and lots of things resembling heats. The latter probably being
one of the few things Kuchiki Rukia managed to draw remotely well.
Resigning to his fate, Hitsugaya Toshiro had leaned back and watched with mild
interest as the members of the Shinigami Women's Association planned his and
his lieutenant's wedding with disturbing precision. He didn't want it big, but
they were not listening to any of his complaints even when he used his title
and authority. It wasn't until the actual wedding day the gravity of the
situation sunk in.
Not only had Rukia drawn him in a pink dress suit from the living world (she
had become quite fascinated in the fashion up there after spending a few days
with Ishida at Inoue's orders. Apparently, Rukia was as good with a needle as
she was with a pen) but she had illustrated Matsumoto in some kind of bunny
suit. Upon further investigation, Toshiro found out it was something like a
Playboy Bunny Girl costume from a certain orange-haired annoying teen.
He knew Rukia only chose the clothing for her chibi-Matsumoto because she loved
bunnies, but it didn't stop him from demanding every piece of invitation cards
back. Matsumoto, now a Hitsugaya, later chided him for being too possessive and
taking things too seriously.
When he showed her an edition of the Playboy magazine Ichigo had given him as a
wedding present (along with the invitation card in a frame as the white-haired
Captain came to collect it) he had the most wonderful make up sex he had ever
imagined.
Good things come out of bad, as they say.
 
***** Mistake *****
Chapter Summary
     Loosely based on the song "Walking back to happiness".
Never had he thought it would come to this. He hadn't realized what he'd had,
hadn't been able to label feelings and see what was happening. It wasn't until
now, when he stood leaning against the training barrack's wall concealed in the
pit black night of autumn, that he knew. It wasn't until now, when his pride
was wounded and his eyes filled with unshed tears, that he missed it.
Happiness.
He had been happy with her around. He had smiled secretly, he had enjoyed every
moment of her presence even when it was overwhelming in its chaotic force. She
was strong, she was kind and beautiful. She wasmature and reliable to the
extent that he admired her more than his own peers in skills and intelligence.
But he had grown too used to it, had taken too many things for granted. The way
she seemed to bounce into the room, the way she smiled when her soul was ripped
open, the way she offered comfort with little gestures considered simple. He
had tried to do the same, but always the same smile would appear; always the
same laugh, always the bone-crushing hug and bright mood.
But it was fading away.
The warmth in his office left as time went by; her eyes glazed over more often
as she looked upon the past and dwelled on matters unknown. He had been too
occupied to stop and take a double turn, too selfish to notice. And then one
day, it dawned upon him. She rarely spoke of her nights out as she used to, she
had stopped playing games and poke fun at him. Her vulgar jokes and flirting
died out and she built up a wall as cold as her eyes.
She was slipping away from him, and what had he done? He had kissed his
childhood friend; desperate for someone to hold onto, someone he knew should be
there for him. Seeking familiarity, trying to prove no one was leaving him, he
had tried, so hard, to heal a broken heart that ached for another man – a
traitor. He'd been rejected; he'd been regretting his mistake for days. And now
he realized how much he owed her – his lieutenant, his friend. She had
distanced herself from him, had used her own way to cope with betrayal and
painful memories. She had seen his hesitation as he stood before Hinamori; she
had left him alone, giving him a chance to make up his mind. She was too kind,
too loyal and loving, to ever leave him. His fear was ungrounded, he was too
much of a child to understand the complex way feelings unwind and fade, entwine
and grow.
The chilly night's air bit at his hot cheeks and cooled his skin, but he
remained unaffected. He needed to sort this out. He needed to talk to her; he
needed to make up for what he'd done and the mistakes to which it'd led. As he
pushed away from the wall and took a deep breath, blinking away the liquid
blurring his vision, he started to walk. Walk back to happiness, that was his
goal.
***** A Matter of Opinion *****
Autumn has a fresh and uplifting smell to it, she mused. It should be dull and
unpleasant, since everything dies and goes to sleep before winter arrives. But
it's not. It's a warm kind of cold hanging in the air, a pleasant kind of
darkness falling at night. The bright colours appearing on the trees and
grounds, the muddy dead leaves sticking to your shoes as you walk down a street
where life walks up and down all day; packing the fallen further into the
ground. It was all so calming, so natural and unlike any other season. It holds
everything; it can seem long and dreary but if you cuddle up in your warmth you
find it right, you find it steady. If the rain falls down outside, you can
watch it drip down the glass of the window. You can listen to it rattle outside
with a cup or warm tea cradled in your hands. Its storms can be cruel, passing
by with little sympathy – it's still and quiet sulking can be cold and
indifferent. But it all depends on your own opinion, doesn't it?
Some says that dipping bread with marmalade in yoghurt is delicious, others
says you're in need of special taste buds to even try it.
Some says he's like the chilly winters; she likes to see him as a warm kind of
autumn.
***** Hide and Seek *****
She hadn't really planned it, it had just kinda…happened. No, but honestly, it
wasn't her fault. The women's bathroom had been out of function and she had
really really really needed to go. So she snuck into the men's bathroom. It had
been empty, and she'd made quick business of revealing herself. It all went
well, but she hadn't been prepared to get locked inside. The door wouldn't
open, and she was stuck in the stall. She hit the door and tried to call for
assistance, but no one seemed to hear. No wonder, it was close to the 11th
division and most of their squad was off somewhere drinking or fighting. And
she doubted her Captain would look for her here. She had spent the whole day
hiding from him and really didn't want her to find her here. He was pissed as
it was, she didn't need another reason to tick him off. Getting locked inside
the men's bathroom counted as one of those things, she was sure.
After five minutes of kicking at the door, she gave up and sat down to rest.
She had a hangover and wasn't up for minutes of fighting with a door seemingly
rooted to the spot. Another five or ten minutes later, and she finally heard
someone open the door into the bathroom. Sitting up she was about to call out
when she heard his voice. Typical.
"Damnable woman, leaving all the paperwork to me."
His gruff voice sounded so cute that she was about to let out a giggle, but
biting her tongue she managed to keep quiet. He probably hadn't noticed her,
because she kept her spiritual energy wrapped up since this morning when she'd
fled the office.
"I bet she's off drinking her head off with the brainless goons in the 11th
division," he continued. Matsumoto raised a brow and stood as silently as she
could; leaning forward to hear more clearly what her cute little Captain was
mumbling about.
"She left before I could get a word out. Idiotic woman always runs off to kill
whatever braincells she's got left! I swear, if she wasn't so damned beautiful
then I would never give her a day off."
She was sourly tempted to jump out and reveal her presence, just to see the
look on his face but kept quiet; eager for more. She rarely got a chance to spy
on her Captain, and this was a golden opportunity! She couldn't let it slip,
could---
"When I get a hold of her again I'm going to fuck her senseless."
Choking on her own saliva, Matsumoto coughed loudly and gasped for air; shocked
beyond belief that those words had just left Hitsugaya Toshiro's mouth. Before
she could come to terms with what she'd heard, the door to her stall was kicked
open with force and she was face to face with her white-haired Captain.
Blushing, she looked down into a handsome face with smug teal eyes and a wide,
wide smirk.
"Gottcha."
***** Reassurence *****
There were many men in her life. Some close, some distant. Some tall, some
short. A few lovers, a few friends, a few everything. So many, yet so few, no?
She shook her head and sighed. Her thoughts tended to go in circles, willing
themselves to take a second turn in fear of reaching a conclusion. She chose to
stand by facts, and not speculate. Her friends were reliable, her lovers
obeying. Her Gin was gone, and her Captain was here. It was as simple as that,
she mused with a frown. Her heart was supposed to stop aching, was supposed to
heal and beat strong in her chest. She knew the facts; she had accepted it,
hadn't she? Nothing she did would change anything for the better.
The air was lukewarm as it caressed her long locks and smooth skin in the
afternoon. The sun shone softly, causing her strawberry-blonde hair to send off
a gentle glow, and her eyes reflected the beams like an icy mirror. It was a
beautiful sight, but no one could see. Their back was turned, the back of their
head all that faced her. She smiled a grim smile; the pain in her chest
reminding her of days long passed, of events repeated so often it had become a
habit to deal with.
Gin had turned, walked away, and left her with the image of his back. He had
come back, only to leave. No matter how hard she clung to him, he would always
free himself and walk away. But this was different; this was her Captain's
back. He was walking away, yes, but he knew she was right behind him. It was a
different kind of habit. She didn't have to cling to him, she just had to watch
his back to make sure he didn't disappear. In both senses.
She valued every difference between them. Gin's large back, almost like a wall,
and her Captain's small, childish but sharp one. It helped her keep them apart,
when painful memories shot through her mind and tore at her heart. Her hands
would reach out, seeking assurance, at times like those. While Gin always faded
away, her Captain would stop. He would stop, and turn around. His teal eyes -
beautiful in his serious face - would meet her icy orbs.
"What?"
Her answer would be a smile, sometimes a giggle or a teasing remark, as her
heart calmed and her mind was reassured. They were different, those two.
***** The Usual Occurrence *****
He sat stroking her hair absently, watching the leaves sway in the cold air.
The sun was warm, and chased away the chill that came with autumn – yet the tip
of his nose was freezing, while her head in his lap spread another kind of
warmth.
Blonde locks were like silk as he ran his fingers through them; combing
carefully. She had her eyes closed, and was smiling softly at his
ministrations. It couldn't be much better than this, he thought. It was calm
and pleasant in the 10th division – and for once; not chaotic. His Lieutenant
was at work (and in his lap, he mused with a grin), the paperwork was done, it
wasn't raining outside, and he was relaxed. Something that rarely happened.
On impulse, he bent down and kissed her cheek. She sighed contently and opened
one eye to look up at his calm face. The sun made his hair almost unbearable to
look at, and she had to focus on his pale lips to avoid the blinding white
spikes. He bent down again, this time capturing her mouth and kissing her
deeply. She looked so delicious, lying in his lap with her hair spilled out
around her head, and he just couldn't resist. His hands left her hair while his
tongue slipped past her lips - caressing - as his own moved.
Touching her neck, his fingers lightly traced circles that caused her to
shiver. She moaned quietly as his kiss deepened, her hands coming up to grasp
the fabric of his white haori as his dropped down to caress her breasts. The
slight chill of autumn had her nipples hard, and he could feel them underneath
the fabric of her uniform. The sensations of her eager tongue and arching body
was almost nothing compared to the pressure applied by her head resting in his
lap. It drove him mad, and he nearly snapped when she broke their kiss to smirk
and turn her head to lay it on the side; completely ignoring his growling. Her
eyes closed again, and as soon as it started, it was over.
He sat fuming, contemplating his next move. Should he try and calm down –
resuming the peaceful relaxing that had taken place a minute ago – or should he
act upon his instincts?
She decided it for him, as her nose nuzzled the obvious bulge in his pants.
Eyes still closed, lips turned up in a wicked grin, she was the perfect image
of a sleeping vixen. He groaned as her nose poked and nuzzled against the heat;
making his cheeks colour in the usual excitement and annoyance. He gripped a
handful of her uniform, knuckles white at the force, and barely suppressed a
shout when her teeth gently grazed him. Her tongue darted out, dampening the
strained fabric, and she planted teasing kisses that aroused him to the point
where he was ready to give in to a rather primitive state of mind.
He moved quickly, holding her head up and lowering it to the floor while
removing himself from underneath her. He almost jumped over her, pinning her
down with his body and capturing her lips in searing kisses. Her blue eyes were
open, twinkling with the mischief he had only felt before. But as his hands
roamed her body, caressing sensitive skin and ridding her of annoying clothes,
the twinkle faded into a burning haze of lust.
He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing, but this was a normal occurrence
in the 10th division. No wonder the moments of calm, the relaxing, was so
brief.
***** Unite *****
She was so beautiful. She made everything feel so right. Her calming smiles,
her uplifting laughs, filled his days with content he'd never really felt
before. He treasured her company, he craved her touch and the sweet taste of
her love was addicting. The kick he got as he almost devoured her, taking what
she gave, made him feel high and sick at the same time. He felt like something
bad, something dark, that sucked up the sun; the light. But each time, it would
always be the same. She would outshine the shadows in the corners; she would
seek him out and demand his presence. He never had time to take away
everything, because she always took it back. It felt like a dance, like a
circle of completion that always left them satisfied. He couldn't deny how well
it worked, how good it felt. They worked together as well as white merges with
black, creating a shade of grey that made the difference insignificant. He
couldn't think of a better way to describe the absurd relationship that made
the never ending circle of day and night pale in comparison. It just…fit.
                                Dark and Light
                                   We Unite
***** Suprises *****
If he was to be the one to define perfection, he knew exactly what to say. All
that was needed was a name, because if perfection could be found on earth, she
would be it.
It wasn't hard to admit she was beautiful, everyone saw that. Her blonde hair,
blue eyes and deliciously curvy body, combined with her bright mood and lack of
modesty, left many men speechless. But there was more.
Like the way she would always be there, like how she offered comfort in times
of pain, like how her annoying laziness took his mind off many things. It was
like she always thought about the consequences, like she knew what effect her
actions would have in the end. And it was always, in one way or another, good.
Her kind heart, her strength and admittance of weakness pulled him closer. She
was like a magnet, an opposite pole that drew him in. But somewhere along the
way, he tripped. Such a cliché, but he found himself falling in love, and it
hurtwhen he hit the ground.
He hadn't expected her to be there to kiss away the pain, but then again, life
is full of surprises.
***** Mr Brightside *****
How did it end up like this?
Jealousy; it burned in his stomach and he felt sick. He had no right, but
suspicions are eating him up. He could see her slipping underneath someone's
sheets, could see her hands touch a chest while a man unties her obi, but it
was all in his head. These thoughts, this jealousy, were taking control. He
couldn't look her in the eyes, he couldn't look at his thoughts; it was killing
him.
It had only been a kiss, a press of soft lips against his.
Seeing how she touched another man every night as he fell asleep made him eager
to open his eyes in the mornings. He was out of his cage, he wanted her and he
couldn't deny it. The deep longing for her burned and he could do nothing to
stop it. He needed to act, before it was too late.
Strange, how it started out with just a kiss.
***** Proving *****
She thought it was cute how her Captain's eyes would turn icily hard while his
cheeks turned a light colour of pink every time a man was bold enough to hit on
her. They had just started their relationship, and it was his first, so she
suspected a lot of people wondered what the hell she was thinking. It didn't
occur to them he was the cutest Captain of them all, or that maybe, just maybe,
she really did love him with a passion. So, a few guys (three last night, if
she remembered it correctly) had started to try and change her mind. It was
terribly annoying, but the expression on her Captain's face as he dragged her
back to her quarters made up for it. The things he come up with to put her
pursuers down was highly amusing and, she had to admit, extremely creative.
Of course, the fact that he was absolutely adorable as a jealous boyfriend
wasn't the only thing making the whole thing enjoyable. She never grew tired of
his ways to prove he was much better than anyone else, especially after someone
mentioned his height must make it difficult to pleasure her properly in the
bedroom.
***** Devil's Food Cake *****
He'd never done this before. It was his first time, but he was bent to do it
right. He went about the kitchen, taking out bowls and ingredients while his
eyes scanned the recipe in the thick book he'd found in their bookshelf.
2 cups (400 g) sugar
½ cup + 2 tablespoons (150 g) butter, softened
2 eggs
2 cups (270 g) all-purpose flour ("Does she have to put it on the highest
shelf? Ah, finally, I've got i--FUCK!")
6 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder ("…damned powdery stuff…")
1 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons vanilla extract ("Vanilla extract? There's only vanilla powder!")
1 cup espresso or very strong coffee (liquid) ("Liquid? Well, duh…")
For once, he was glad she always filled their cabinets with all the possible
things needed for sweets and cakes. Growing, he put the cup of coffee on the
table before moving on to the next part of the list.
½ cup butter
14 oz (400 g) semisweet dark chocolate (40-50 cocoa)
3 tablespoon light corn syrup ("Corn syrup? What?")
3 tablespoon hot espresso or very strong coffee ("OUCH! Hothothothothot!!")
Goddammit, did this never end?
He sighed and looked over the kitchen, seeing ingredients covering every free
space. He noted he hadn't been able to get all the flour off the floor, but
decided to fix that later. Now he had to mix it all together. Already a
headache was building.
"Okay, preheat the oven. Check. Butter and sugar's next. Mix until creamy, that
can't be that hard," he mumbled, taking out a bowl and an electric mixer
Matsumoto had brought back from their last visit in the living world. He turned
it on and shoved it into the bowl, immediately regretting it. The butter and
sugar flew everywhere, and when he finally managed to turn the mixer off he was
already covered in the sticky mess.
How could someone enjoy doing this? So sticky and gooey and just…yuck.
He considered giving up and just buy her a damned cake, but his ego refused to
give up. Taking a deep, determined breath he set to work. Again.
It took him almost two hours to complete the cake, and when he was done, the
kitchen wasn't just a mess. It was a messy mess. But he was proud of himself,
and grinned as he held up the result of his labour. A dark chocolate cake,
uneven and crooked, but still a very tasty looking one. Now, he just had to let
it cool for 1 to 2 hours. Looking up at the clock, he cursed and looked around
in panic. Matsumoto was coming home soon, and although she was very untidy
herself she would freak when she saw the state her kitchen was in. As he placed
the cake on the table, trying to decide where to start cleaning first, he heard
the door open.
"Hooneeey! I'm hooome!" he heard her call out, a jolly voice filling the room.
He winced as she entered the kitchen, seeing her freeze and look around with
her pretty mouth hanging open.
"Cake?" he asked, holding up his creation with a nervous smile. When he'd seen
the name of the cake, he'd thought it was silly. Now he really thought it fit
perfectly.
***** Matsumoto Demonstrates *****
"Matsumoto-san… "
"---and there's a lot of things you can say--- "
"…Matsumoto-san? "
"---to put them off and you know you don't have to feel bad about it--- "
"…Rangiku-san? "
"---because they're mainly assholes and besides I promise you you'll enjoy it;
some gets this weird expression! It's hilarious! Now, what was it you wanted,
Inoue? "
"Um…well, Matsumoto-san, I don't really think I can d--- "
"---nonsense! Of course you can do it! It's easy! Just watch me. CAPTAIN!!! "
"Matsumoto-san, why are you taking off your---- "
"What is it Matsu--- "
"Take a picture, it lasts longer! See, that was easy, wasn't it?"
"….."
"MATSUMOTO!!!"
***** Troublesome *****
She was at it again. Coughing and sneezing and looking pale and downright
miserable. No matter how many times he told her to stop drinking so much and
spending hour after hour out in the cold, it never seemed to get through. And
he ended up tucking her to bed. Well, couch to be more exact. Why she always
ran out of energy in the office was a mystery, but he didn't feel like carrying
her to her quarters in the state she was in.
"My lower back huuuurts Captain," she whined, eyes tightly shut as she shook
her head weakly. He sighed, just done with covering her shivering shape with a
thick blanket he had stored away for occasions such as these. Time had taught
him many things, and he'd be damned if he weren't prepared for anything by now.
"It's because you're sick, Matsumoto," he stated while standing up straight and
looking down at her. She cracked one eye open and pouted.
"Can't you give me a massage? It's not just my back! It's my neck and shoulders
and----"
"----I will do no such thing. You're ruining your own health, it's your own
problem," he interrupted, raising a brow and crossing his arms over his chest.
Her pitiful expression almost made him roll his eyes as he sighed and walked
away to sit down by his desk.
"So cruel Captain!" she exclaimed, voice breaking just a bit. She was going to
get a sore throat soon, when the cold broke out at full force. He shook his
head, reaching for his brush.
"You never listen to me Matsumoto, I've told you several times to not---"
"---drink so much and stay out in the cold, yes I know. You're so cute when
you're worrying Captain, did you know?" The teasing was lost when she went into
one of her coughing fits, making him frown at the rasping and hollow sound. She
needed sleep.
"Just go to sleep Matsumoto. That's what you do best," he said as he started to
look through the first paper in his stack. He could almost bet she was pouting,
but couldn't see since his teal eyes where currently darting from side to side,
up and down, to take in some words that apparently was important enough to end
up on his desk. Or maybe these were his lieutenant's?
"Meanie," he heard her mumble. Another fit of coughing, followed by a sneeze.
She shifted, curling up into a ball, and coughed some more. He looked up to see
her shiver, desire the thick blanket covering her. Putting down the brush, he
frowned and stood. While taking off his haori he walked over to the couch again
and draped it over her body. It wasn't much, but seemed to be enough. She
smiled and reached out through the blanket to take a hold of his hand;
squeezing lightly.
"Thanks," she said, eyes closing. He sighed, again, and wondered how she could
look so cute with a red nose and sickly pale complexion.
"I'll give you some rest then you're off to the 4th division Matsumoto. I need
the little assistance you offer; I can't afford having you sick. Troublesome
woman."
"I'll do my best Captain. I'll be up and about in no time!" she mumbled with a
smile as he return to work. "Don't worry."
But he did.
Really, she was so troublesome.
 
***** Gay Surprises *****
Chapter Summary
     Written before we knew Haineko was a girl.
During all the years they'd worked together, he'd grown pretty fond of the lazy
bum that spent most hours of the day asleep. Like a true cat, he could care
less of the world around him when it was time for a nap and this annoyed him to
no end. Not even when the office became unnaturally chilly did he stir from his
sleep.
That – plus the mood swings and constant up-to-no-good behaviour – was enough
to drive anyone mad. So he didn't think much of it when he realized why he
could stand him.
So what if he was gay?
They way he swayed his hips as he walked, the way his tail twitched from side
to side…that way his eyes shone with mischief and the way his purrs reached a
level of sultry seduction…who wouldn't fall for that? How he loved it when that
pink tongue would dart out, slowly licking silky smooth fur that just begged to
be touched. How he loved it when he could turn to lie on his back, showing off
a soft-looking, perfectly shaped and very inviting stomach. It made him want to
just---
---HYORINMARU!!!
The ice dragon sighed, shaking his head. Oh Haineko, will we ever be able to be
together for real if my wielder keeps this up? If only he could get over his
unwanted pride and go for it. Haineko's wielder was gorgeous, what was the
problem?
Really, sometimes he thought the white-haired Captain needed a matchmaker.
Haineko proved to be pretty excited about the idea, so he didn't complain when
the ash cat started plotting. After all, he wouldn't be the one suffering from
it. All he got was more time with Haineko, and that was all he wanted.
He almost felt sorry for the young boy though. He was in for one hell of a
surprise.
***** Wait *****
Hitsugaya Toshiro gritted his teeth as he tried to walk as normal and un-
limping as possible. He blinked and tried to keep the blood out of his eyes,
gaze fixed on a heart-wrecking sight a few feet away. She was lying on the
ground, robes coloured red by her blood, and her face was hidden underneath
tangled locks of strawberry blonde hair. He couldn't see if she was breathing
yet, he couldn't see if the life had left her eyes or not. He picked up his
pace.
"Matsumoto!" he called, falling down to his knees beside her. Reaching out, her
grabbed her shoulders and heaved her upper body up to rest in his lap. Her head
lulled to the side as she blinked; breathing weak and shallow.
"Matsumoto!" Her name came out like a hiss, the urgency in his voice spilling
out like water in a strainer. She jerked her head straight and stared up at
him, suddenly aware of the world. She felt numb, the pain throbbing somewhere
in her body as she struggled to breathe. It felt warm, resting her head against
his lap. She smiled and turned her head to the side again; nuzzling into his
robes and feeling how the muscles in his stomach clenched at her nose's touch.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, reached a shaking hand up to rest on his stomach. He
gritted his teeth, unwilling to admit that the blow to his mid section had
taken its tool.
"No," was his answer. She smiled, poking slightly as she let out a teasing
giggle.
"You know Captain, you're supposed to make a sound when you're in pain," she
mused when all she got was a hitched breath. He growled and took a hold of her
wrist; keeping her from making the situation worse. He was already on edge; he
didn't need a wounded Matsumoto making jokes too.
"Try moaning like you're having an orgasm," she continued, making him freeze in
shock as he stared with wide eyes into a beautiful, thoughtful face tainted
with blood and bruises.
"Matsumoto, just shut up," he growled, cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. It
wouldn't be long before the 4th division arrived, and if that time could be
spent in silence he would be overjoyed. But this was Matsumoto. She wouldn't
stop talking even if her life depended on it. Which, currently, it did. He
wanted to shake some sense into her but was afraid to even move an inch now
that she was safe in his hold.
"You have gotten an orgasm, right?"
He groaned. This was going to be a long wait.
 
***** Ringtones *****
Chapter Summary
     Now this just makes me think of Adler in the BBC Sherlock series.
Of course it wasn't just that which had landed her in the arrest. He was very
strict when it came to mixing work with the private life (he only gave into her
office-seductions after the paperwork was done, so that didn't count as during
work hours).
No, it wasn't really because of that.
Honestly.
Misfiling important documents and picking a fight in the bar was enough to
temporary put her behind bars. Really, it had nothing to do with that other
thing.
Gritting his teeth, Toshiro tried to suppress the scene re-playing in his mind.
He knew no one would ever forget that incident, it was just too priceless. But
that wasn't the only thing bothering him.
How the hell had she managed to record that? He couldn't remember her having
her cell phone while they were doing it – after work – and why, in the name of
everything holy and unholy alike, had she used it as a ringtone?
The sound of himself moaning her name would haunt him forever, in an entirely
new kind of way. He would never be able to be vocal again, or so he thought. It
turned out to be pretty enjoyable to have Matsumoto try and make up for it.
***** Books *****
She knew he had always been a cute little bookworm. There were hardly any books
left which he hadn't read or scanned through in the library, and that made it
hard for people to know what books he hadn't read. So he never got any for his
birthday.
But this time around, Matsumoto was sure she had the best book ever. A book he,
surely, couldn't have read. From what she knew, it wasn't in the library. It
was from the living world and it went against everything that was Hitsugaya
Toshiro. Well, kinda. She recognised some of the things in the book and guessed
he wasn't as pure-minded and innocent as he seemed. But, being male, he
probably had a dirty imagination. She didn't complain.
Shifting from foot to foot, Matsumoto tried to control her excitement. The book
was nicely wrapped, with a silver ribbon and white paper, and rested between
her arms and huge chest. He was late, but only a few minutes. He would be here
soon. Biting her lip, she giggled and spun around; coming to a stop when the
door opened. Facing her Captain, Matsumoto smiled and quickly ran over to place
a soft kiss on his lips.
"Happy Birthday!" she chirped, thrusting the package into his hands. Blinking,
Toshiro raised a brow and grinned. He could feel it was a book, and was
extremely curious to what she had come up with. But first…. He kissed her,
running his free hand up her arm to rest on her neck. She tasted sweet, no hint
of sake he noticed with surprise. Breaking away, he stayed close to gaze into
her bright, excited eyes. His thumb stroked her jaw, taking in the feel of her
soft skin.
"Thank you," he said with a smile, still not used to her enthusiasm concerning
birthdays.
"You haven't even opened it yet!" she said pouting, poking his stomach as she
spoke. He grinned and kissed her again, amused by her reactions.
"Okay then, let's see," he murmured as he broke away again. She stepped back to
give him enough space, humming happily as she watched him unwrap the present.
He undid the ribbon, letting it fall gently to the floor, and carefully opened
the white paper. As the book came into view, his eyes lit in recognition. A
slight blush coloured his cheeks as he stared, amusement almost taking over the
embarrassment.
"YES! I found a book you haven't read!" Matsumoto exclaimed, suddenly embracing
him and pressing her soft breasts close to his chest. Letting the book fall to
the floor, Toshiro snuck his now free hands around her waist and pulled her
even closer. She froze as he placed his mouth by her ear; letting his tongue
slowly trace the shape or her earlobe.
"Don't get so excited, Rangiku," he whispered with a smirk. "Contrary to your
belief, I have read it."
Parting his lips and placing them on the piece of skin most sensible behind her
ear, he sucked. She moaned and whimpered, his hands moving down to grab her
thigh and hold it up; making it easier for him to grind his hips against hers.
Clinging to his form, she was about to protest. How was it possible that he'd
read that book?
"Actually, I haven't just read it," he murmured through kisses, moving along
her jaw to stop and hover just half an inch away from her lips. "I've studied
it very carefully."
She almost fainted in shock. Hitsugaya Toshiro, reading through a Karma
Sutra book?
Well, she mused as his kisses trailed down her neck, it is a book after all.
A very good book.
***** Trying Dare *****
It was silly, really. He could just ignore it and continue with life as it had
been before. But his pride stung, and he was set to prove that he wasn't weak.
It had all happened pretty quickly, and he couldn't really remember how it had
started. But somehow, he'd found himself playing a game yesterday. Truth or
dare; a game Matsumoto had insisted he'd try. Thinking no harm could really be
done, he'd joined in her and her group of friends. At first, it had been so
silly he'd fought the urge to roll his eyes. Then it became amusing, as Renji
had to jump on one leg and cluck. But he started to get annoyed as Matsumoto
was dared to "propose" to Yumichika, and was ready to snap when she had
to kissIkkaku. Never mind it was just on his head, those full lips didn't
belong there. Or anywhere else either. Just on him. Blushing, he'd grumpily
announced 'dare' when Matsumoto had turned to him. Her smile was wide and the
twinkle in her eyes had been wicked. He should've backed out there already.
"I dare you to go two weeks without any physical contact with me."
That's what she'd said. He'd blushed, and ignored the others' taunts as he
agreed with no complaints. She'd just smiled at him, like she knew he would
fail, and he'd felt a strong urge to prove her wrong.
But it was easier said than done.
After only half a week, his hands were itching for a light brush – just a brief
touch – but he fought the urge to stroke her hair as he passed the couch she
lay sleeping on. By the end of the week he was ready to kill himself. It didn't
help that she was constantly so close, so teasingly within reach. She was
playing dirty and she knew it.
"Captain," she called while walking over to his desk, swaying her hips
smoothly. He'd become more aware of her movements recently, he mused with a
frown. "Are you done with those reports yet?"
Making her way around his desk, stopping beside him to lay a hand on the back
of his chair, Matsumoto smiled innocently. He tensed and wondered if he leaned
back, would her hand come in contact with his shoulder? Gritting his teeth, he
tried to concentrate on his paperwork.
"No, not yet Matsumoto," he replied, voice strained and tight. He heard her
whine in protest, seeing out of the corner of his eye how she leaned down.
Still, he got startled as her hot breath warmed the skin of his ear.
"But it's Saturday," she whispered, "why can't you get off a bit earlier
Captain?"
He shivered; memories of her mouth elsewhere, her voice saying something else,
flashing through his mind. The strain in his pants made him groan in annoyance,
wondering when he could get away from his lieutenant discreetly enough to take
care of…it.
"Matsumoto, these reports needs to be---"
"---shoved up someone's ass. C'mon now Captain! I'll give you a treat if you
come along, okay? I promise it'll be something good!"
He slowly puts the papers he's been reading back on the desk's surface,
reaching his hands up to massage his temples while sighing. The throbbing in
his crotch had not stopped.
"Define 'good' Matsumoto," he growled. The light giggle makes him shiver once
again, her breath almost tickling against his skin.
"If you 'break' the dare tonight, I won't tell," she murmured,
lips almost touching his ear. A second passed as his eyes widened and his mouth
became strangely dry; the bulge in his pants hardening in anticipation. She
breathed in, making a contemplating noise as he wasn't able to answer.
"Okay then," she said, "I'll withdraw the dare. How's that, Captain?"
It took him about half a second to understand what she was saying. His sharp
brows rose, lips pulling up to show white, pearly teeth in a devilish smirk.
"Are you sure Matsumoto?" he began, slowly turning his head to stare into a
pair of blue, piercing eyes; darkened by an emotion mirrored in teal. Their
noses were touching, the dare already lost before they could agree on a
conclusion. He didn't care at the moment – her breath was hot against his lips
and they itched to kiss it away; swallow it.
"Yes," she whispered with a grin, mouth moving against his teasingly. He felt
light-headed, and a childish feeling of smug glee spread through his body;
mixing with the excitement.
"And why is that?" he asked, kissing her softly; briefly. Her position was
uncomfortable, leaning down beside him. Slinking between him and the desk, she
settled herself in his lap; her legs dangling over the hard arm rest and arms
locked securely around his neck. He had to title his head upwards – but just a
bit – to see her face instead of cleavage. She smiled softly, bending down to
place light kisses on his mouth, nose, cheek and forehead. His fingers played
with her hair, stroked her back and caressed any skin available. It was like he
was feeding; filling his senses with something delicious, something addicting.
"I—figured—two—whole—weeks were—a bit too—much," she mumbled through gentle
kisses, her own hands beginning to stray. He swiftly captured her lips for good
this time around, parting them with his tongue and tasting sweetness he'd been
afraid of forgetting. Almost a full week, no, only a few days had been enough
to make him aware of the importance of her presence; her touch, her taste,
smell, sound and warmth.
A fleeting moment of immaturity, a quick wish easily dismissed – he wondered if
he ever got the chance to play again, and dare her to satisfy his cravings to
the fullest. Was it even possible? Drowning in her moans, her skin's heat and
the dampness of her lips and eagerness of her hips – he found no time to dwell
on it. He wanted more.
***** A Lieutenant's Musings *****
There was something she had always wondered about, something that always had
her distracted on those long working hours where she could but stare – and
wonder.
He was so young; so small and fresh in his strength and ways. He was a new
breeze in the high ranks, an exciting change and pleasant puzzle – impossible
to dislike and hard to take seriously when icy beautiful teal eyes glared from
their position in such a cute face. He was no image of an old cranky man; of a
cynical fellow whose years were wasted.
So why the white hair?
She had a hard time imagining that it was real, and besides, it was really fun
to play with the possibility of her Captain bleaching his hair.
Obviously, she had asked him many times if it were, in fact, real. She always
got the same answer; yes. But she didn't see the point in believing him. The
arguments, the pondering and wild fantasizing consumed time better than the
plain old staring-blankly-in-front-of-you while "doing" paperwork. Quite
naturally, this annoyed her cute little Captain to no end. Which made it even
better.
Then he had to go and prove it; destroying her rather pleasantly time-consuming
theories.
Pouting, she followed her Captain out of the bathroom. He hadn't even let her
take a good enough look! Really, going and destroying her faith and not even
offer something in return?
Oh well, I have something else to think about now, she mused as she walked up
beside him; grinning and very pleased with his brilliant blush. She supposed
she ought to be happier, since two of her questions with the highest priorities
had been answered. But happy was a too nice word to use, especially after
finding out her Captain was probably pretty well endowed. But, as it were, he
didn't give her a chance to take a proper look.
So, how well endowed was he?
Slightly miffed and very – very – embarrassed, Hitsugaya Toshiro
wondered why his lieutenant still spaced out during work. He had proved the
nature of his hair colour, hadn't he?
***** Wonder Weapon *****
He couldn't bring himself to believe this yet; still groggy from sleep and very
much in denial. He wasn't in his lieutenant's room, just out of her futon and
leaving his warmth on her blanket with her scent. No.
And his clothes were defiantly not gone; of course not.
The black leather pants lying before him was just a mirage; the light playing
tricks on his eyes and brain. They were not real. He had other things to wear,
surely. Kimonos and cute, female things didn't take up every space of the
wardrobe.
Because surely, this couldn't be happening?
Matsumoto's uncontrollable giggles from the futon crushed his hopes till they
were but a grain of dust in a corner somewhere. Looking over to the tight,
black leather pants he wondered how many times he could kill his lieutenant in
his mind before going insane. Growling, he slowly made his way towards the
offending clothing. Was she so desperate to see him in them?
As he bent down to retrieve them, he looked over to a very naked blonde
occupying the futon. She had rolled over, blankets slipping off her form, to
closer observe her victim. Her eyes were half-closed, blue slightly darker, and
her full lips were pulled up in a smile as her brows rose suggestively. It was
a very inviting image, but he had to look away in fear the pants would
become impossibly tight. He had to get to his rooms, and he didn't want to do
it naked. He'd rather put those pants on.
Which he did, and away went the hope of returning to his rooms this morning. He
made a mental note to use this way of clothing whenever Matsumoto gave him the
"cold" treatment (a.k.a no sex, or even touching) because, he noted while
gasping, it worked wonders.
***** Reflecting's (aka Surrender's) go at Shinigami's Cup – Golden! *****
Rukia was very pleased with herself. She entered the room with a secret smile,
catching all the females' eyes as she sat down looking smug. This time, she was
sure Yachiru would choose her as the Vice President of the Shinigami Women's
Association. Her contribution to this month's Hottest Couple was the
best; surely no one could outdo her this time? She reluctantly admitted that
last month hadn't gone that well, with the theme Nurse and Patient (the couple
being Unohana and Ukitake), but that was another story. She was well prepared
now, and with her brilliance, it was a sure shot. Nothing could go wrong.
"Okay, now that everyone is here…." Nanao began, standing in the front as
usual. She trailed off as a pink head popped up and sent hearts flying with her
wide smile.
"LET'S OPEN THE MEETING!" Yachiru exclaimed happily, waving her hands over head
and grinning. The small crowd of women smiled, giggled and nodded in agreement;
obviously excited.
Clearing her throat, Nanao began.
"So, this month's couple – as you all now – is the Captain of the 10th
division," cheers were heard along with a wolf whistle at the mention of the
little white-haired officer, to which she took little notice, "and our honoured
member lieutenant Matsumoto Rangiku."
More cheers as a beautiful blonde waved lazily, grinning and winking
suggestively. Pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, Nanao
continued.
"As per usual, we have you each bring a contribution to the couple showing
us why it was chosen as the hottest couple this month. I will now allow you to
present what you've come up with, in order, starting with…the President."
Yachiru giggled happily, jumping up on the table and looking out over the
gathering. Smiling, she whipped out a blurry photo. It took a while for the
observers to see what the motif was supposed to be, but in the end, they did.
"It's Big Boobies and Whitey! I managed to take a picture of them playing!"
Had it been anyone else uttering that sentence, it would've made a grave
difference. Luckily, the girl was a bit too innocent (hard as it may seem) to
understand that you weren't really half-naked when playing. Not in the term she
meant, anyway; her knowledge only went as far as to kissing.
Nanao snatched the picture away, cheeks burning, and coughed while trying to
regain her posture. Matsumoto sat blinking innocently, either unaware or simply
enjoying the Vice President's modesty-problems.
"Thank you, President. Moving on…Rukia, how about you?" The hope in her
otherwise serious voice almost made Rukia feel a bit guilty, but the position
as Vice President was so close…so tempting.
"My contribution for this year's Couple is--" she paused for effect, and for
stalling time to take out her nicely decorated folder, "--a manga! Following
the theme Boss and Subordinate, of course. And I kept in mind to use the
office, too!"
The struggle to keep Yachiru away from an X-rated, badly drawn manga was lost
to Nanao before it even began. She watched in horror as the young bubblegum
girl flipped the pages open. For once, she was glad Rukia's drawing skills
equals minus ten.
"Hey, it's almost like my picture! Do you want to be Vice President?"
***** Captain's Ice Cream *****
It was one of those really, really, really hot days. When you could see the
heat burn the ground, when the birds where quiet and the crickets played in the
background. Toshiro was trying to figure out what he had done to be off duty
with his Lieutenant today of all days. She would always drag him outside,
claiming the sun was good for him. And today was like any other day back in
Soul Society. Being in the living world hadn't done anything to his luck.
Except for, perhaps, making it worse.
Sighing, the white haired Captain lay back in the grass and stared up at the
blue sky. No clouds. He was on a hill, in his Shinigami form since it was less
hot compared to a gigai, and doing his best to ignore the pleased sighs coming
from his left. Matsumoto was enjoying an ice cream. Really enjoying it. Toshiro
growled and turned his gaze to the woman beside him, biting his tongue to keep
silent and holding his breath. Slow lick, up and down, around her lips –
swirling, sucking, sighing.
"Hey, Matsumoto," he called in a strained voice, making her look down and
smile; forgetting the ice cream. She had a rather nice view, but it could be
better. She eyed his covered chest and wondered how he could wear his uniform
so properly in such heat. It didn't matter that a shadow fell over them; the
lonely tree behind them not big enough to throw a decent one. His skin was
slightly sweaty, and his brows furrowed in a frown. He looked incredibly stiff
too; not relaxed at all. Matsumoto frowned. It was their day off; she had
offered to buy him ice cream (for his money, but it was still something…) and
even taken him to this place – a deserted hill with a beautiful view and soft,
green grass. Perhaps she had to do something more. Grinning, she leaned over
and swiftly undid his uniform; revealing a nicely built chest. Instantly, his
hands closed around her free one; pulling it out of the way. She lost some of
her balance, and the forgotten ice cream was remembered.
"MATSUMOTO!!" Toshiro yelled; shocked at the sudden cold sensation on his lower
stomach, not to mention in the speed which she'd parted his robes. She started
to giggle; lying down to ease the pressure put on her elbow keeping her up.
Half of the ice cream was still safe in her hand, but the other half was
melting quickly and dripping down his stomach and hips. He growled and was glad
no one was around; that way they wouldn't notice the sudden drop in the
temperature.
"Oh Captain," she moaned, rolling over to lie half over his chest and stare
down into his wide eyes. "Why didn't I think of this?"
He swallowed; feeling uneasy. The temperature didn't rise, though he was sure
he was feeling warmer than before – if possible. "Think of what?"
"That if I annoy you, the temperature drops," she said with a smirk; the ice
cream in her hand dangerously close to his naked chest. He opened his mouth to
protest but the cold substance made him choke on a moan as it made contact with
his skin. He hoped she wouldn't realize annoyance wasn't the only thing that
made the temperature around him sink, but the bulge in his loose pants would be
a dead give-away if her attention was drawn somewhere else than his pink
cheeks.
"Stop it Matsumoto!" he growled, trying to get up. Unfortunately, she was a
rather strong woman worthy of the title Lieutenant. But he was her Captain.
Almost free, Toshiro froze in horror as she rolled over him completely to
straddle his hips and pin down his shoulders. Staring into her eyes, his cheeks
turned dark pink and a soft, cold breeze blew past. She raised a brow, knowing
very well what the hardness against her was.
"Captain," she began with a pout; eyes gleaming with mischief. "You should've
told me!"
"Matsumoto, st—" He was unable to finish as she leaned down to kiss his dry
lips. Her tongue darted out to trace them, before moving past and tasting his
mouth. He closed his eyes and mimicked her movements; feeling as a knot
tightened in his lower stomach and sent shivers up his spine.
She broke away from the kiss before he could honestly say he was satisfied, and
teasingly places light kisses down his neck. Moaning, his hands came up to rest
on her hips. As she moved lower, his hands moved higher. She licked at ice
cream on his chest, removing the sticky substance and replacing it with a wet
trail of saliva that cooled his skin pleasantly. He watched her – breathing
hard – and slowly moved his thumbs in circles; caressing the underside of her
breasts. She moved lower still, kissing his ribs and nuzzling his stomach. He
felt his back curl – arch up just a bit – as she removed the last part of his
robes to let her lips hover over the newly exposed skin. His hands had gripped
her pink scarf, and his hold of it tightened as she moved up a few inches to
lick his stomach clean from the remaining ice cream. It was very pleasant, her
warm tongue and soft kisses, but the ache between his legs was almost
unbearable. It didn't help that the now chilled air around them blew between
them and stung his hot skin in a way that made his hips eager to move.
Smiling against him, Matsumoto moved down again. She enjoyed the cool air
around them, but she still felt incredibly hot. It was for other reasons, but
it didn't stop her from shiver in pleasure each time he reacted to her
ministrations and a sudden chill would consume her for less than a second.
Tired of her own teasing, she eagerly made her way down his body. He tasted of
vanilla ice cream, but as she came lower the salty taste of his skin was the
only thing left. A jolt of cold shook her body as she kissed his tip; making
her gasp and moan in pleasure. She absently wondered why she paid for ice cream
when she could have it for free. Nothing chilled, tasted or felt better than
her Captain on days like these.
***** Love Me Tender *****
He walked down the empty corridor, teal eyes glowing in the thick darkness. His
steps were careful; he could barely see more than a few feet before him. Not
even the moon was out tonight, and the divisions around here had either gone
home or away to the pubs ages ago. No light came from the closed windows as he
passed. He knew the ways around all the offices and barracks, he could see the
corridor lit and filled with life in his mind. He could go from one place to
another blindfolded and without any help get there for sure. But now he didn't
know where he was going, he had no idea where his goal was. The only thing
guiding him was the spirit energy of his Lieutenant.
Stopping to sniff the air, he frowned. Blinking, he tried to focus ahead. His
breaths slowed till they almost died out. Her energy was fading, had he turned
the wrong way? Turning around, he went back to the closest crossway and stood
silently in the middle. Closing his eyes, he breathed in heavily. A flowery
scent caress his senses. He thought of nothing, and felt a warm presence of
energy close around his heart and lungs. Opening his eyes, he focused once
again on the darkness ahead. Slowly, a trail of blue energy appeared down the
corridor to his left. He had taken the wrong turn.
Picking up his pace again, he frowned. He didn't know what it was about her,
but somehow her energy was more visible than others'. He could sense it, smell
it and see it. If she was close enough, he could even taste it. This made it
easy for him to find her, to always know where she was, but sometimes he
thought it causes more trouble than it should be. Depending on her mood, the
strength of her energy's presence changed and he had yet to identify which were
what. If it was weak, was she sad? If it were strong, was she angry? Hurt?
Happy? He could never tell, and her face gave nothing away. But it wasn't just
that which worried him. The presence of her spiritual energy was always there,
he had grown so accustomed to it he feared what would happen if it disappear
some day. It would be a part of him to disappear, and he wondered if he could
live without it.
"Matsumoto?" he called, the smell and pressure of her energy suddenly
overwhelming. Either she was close by, or something had happened. His heart
skipped a beat and his pace quickened. The pressure didn't cease, and as he
rounded the corner he saw a flash of pale blue. She was there. Letting out a
breath, he slowed down until he came to a stop. It was dark, but the glow of
her energy was enough for him to see a weak outline tracing her curvy body. He
guessed she was leaning against a wall, eyes closed again after confirming it
was him.
"What are you doing here Matsumoto?" he asked, walking over to her and placing
a hand on the wall beside her. This close, he could finally make out her face.
Her eyes fluttered open and stared down into his; revealing something that made
him frown. She looked dazed; unaware of the world around them. He couldn't read
any specific emotion, and couldn't determine if she was sad or hurt. It irked
him; he had yet to catch her mourning over the loss of close friends after he'd
found her to let Kira apologise. She had to hurt too, right? She had to cry,
had to break, no? He sighed, wondering why he wanted to see her that way so
badly he followed her around whenever anything indicated a sad mood. It was
wrong, but he yearned to give her comfort; to make her smile through tears. He
needed to know what he meant to her, what he could do for her.
"Captain," she began; breaking the silence. Her hand sneaked up to capture his
free one; bringing it to her lips before continuing. "Why are you doing this?"
He shivered, her lips touching his skin as they moved. He couldn't find himself
to answer just yet; her light kisses on his fingers and palm distracted him
from reality. She had touched him before, hugged him and kissed his cheeks or
nose; even teased him in an improperly seductive way. But this time, it was
different. The air held electricity; he could almost sense it crack and burn
between them. Her teeth scraped his wrist; her tongue traced his veins. He
leaned closer, nose nuzzling her neck and breathing in the scent of her skin
and spiritual energy. They smelled the same, yet very different. Her energy was
pure and easy to categorize, while her skin held a diffuse and seductive scent
that was impossible to name. It was the same with her eyes. They were as blue
as her energy, yet grey and cloudy. Was everything else the same?
"Captain," she said again, her voice almost in a whisper. "You didn't answer my
question."
He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent once more before answering. "I
worry," he said. He was afraid to tell her everything, to let her know
exactly why. But this seemed to be enough, since she relaxed and continued to
kiss his hand. He wondered what he tasted like to her, how different her skin's
taste would be compared to her energy's. Sighing, he gave in and pressed
himself closer to her body; finally tasting her soft skin with a quick lick of
his tongue. She gasped in surprise, and he was about to back away when it
turned into a pleased noise at the back of her throat. She brought his hand
down, placing it on her breast. His eyes flew open as he froze; staring into
strawberry-blonde locks. What was she doing?
"Captain," she began yet again, breathing it out as if in pain. He pressed
himself closer – feeding on the warmth – and gently kissed her neck. She
shivered and returned his pressure; turning her head to expose her neck
further. He continued to kiss, lick and taste; trying to define the different
tastes pleasing his tongue. Salt? Sour and sweet? Almost like cherry, but more
like vanilla. It was creamy; soft and smooth. He moved down to her shoulder,
hands still placed either on the wall or her breast. Licking the skin right
underneath the edge of the fabric, he raised his one hand from the wall to tug
gently at her uniform. It fell open, just a bit, and gave him more access; more
skin to taste. He couldn't get enough, he didn't care that it was wrong.
"Do you know what you're doing?" she asked, making him stop. He slowly looked
up, not expecting the gentle smile on her lips nor the sad look in her eyes.
What was she thinking? Her spiritual pressure lay heavy against him, but he
couldn't understand it. Perhaps she was afraid? Unsure of his actions?
"Yes," he answered, moving up to capture her lips in a kiss. He hoped he was
right, or this would prove to be very embarrassing. "It's what you do before
making love, isn't it?"
She giggled, leaning in to kiss his nose briefly. He took this as a good sign,
and titled his head to the side to whisper in her ear.
"And if I'm right," he began, feeling intoxicated by her and her kisses, smell
and scent, "you're supposed to be…affected."
"Ah!" she gasped, arching her back and pushing close against him. His hand had
strayed down her side and between their bodies; cupping the soft, hot junction
of her legs. She spread them wider – inviting him – and slid down the wall
despite being pinned against it. His breath caught; cheeks the lightest of pink
and mind screaming at him for being so bold. He didn't know what possessed him,
but he was unable to stop. He pressed his hand closer, enjoying her soft gasps
and moans, and started to caress her breast as well. Her robes fell further
apart; parting completely as his hand snuck beneath the fabric to touch her
naked skin. He found her nipple and pinched it; biting his lip to suppress a
groan. She was too hot – too tempting – for her own good.
"Oh Captain I can't take it anymore," she suddenly groaned, pushing him off her
with force. He stumbled backwards, shocked, and could do nothing as she brought
him down on the floor. He winced, the fall not kind to his back, but couldn't
get a word out as she straddled him. Leaning over him, she looked like a cat
about to attack. Her eyes shone in the dark, a hungry but controlled shade of
blue eating at his sight. The darkness around them made her stand out even
more; he couldn't see anything but her and her alone. It made him eager to
explore; to taste skin yet to touch his tongue and feel her hands on places yet
to be caressed.
"Let's be gentle," she whispered; catching him off guard, "I'm tired of love
that hurts."
He nodded, an understanding smile on his lips, and made sure to show her how
soft his touch could be. Even though she later begged him to stop taking
everything so literally.
***** Tattoos (Tattoos part 1) *****
Matsumoto Rangiku was a tease. And not only that, but she was a merciless bully
too. Several of the people in his group of Shinigamis ordered to the living
world agreed. It seemed like she was choosing a random person to harass each
week; but sadly, he himself was the main target 24/7. Though when she decided
it was someone else's turn, he would make the best of it and either flee or spy
on the victim. The latter the most enjoyable one, and something he was
currently occupied with.
This week, it was Renji that was followed around by a big breasted devil. She
was bored and had chosen the most explosive of the group; deciding that Ikkaku
had had too much training in keeping his temper to be fun after meeting that
weird human girl. The white-haired Captain snorted as he watched Abarai grit
his teeth in annoyance; Matsumoto had been one step behind him for over 40
minutes.
"DAMMIT WOMAN WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!?" he finally yelled, spinning around to
face an innocent looking Lieutenant of the 10th division.
"Oh, I was just wondering…do those tattoos mean anything?" she asked, titling
her head and pointing at his head. "Like 'if you've screwed a noble, put this
on your forehead'?"
Hitsugaya bit his lip and waited. The redhead's face soon matched his hair, and
he seemed to try very hard to keep from drawing his zanpaktou. Unfortunately,
he seemed to be able to keep from using physical violence. The Captain sighed,
disappointed. It would be fun to see who would win; enraged Abarai or bored
Matsumoto?
"Matsumoto, have you forgotten about the tattoo on your hip?" Renji growled.
"Doesn't that also hold an interesting meaning? I wonder what your Captain
would say if he ever found out."
Her blush made the observer curious. Did Matsumoto have a tattoo? On her hip?
And why the hell did Abarai know of this? As he watched the two arguing figures
walk away, Hitsugaya Toshiro made sure to find out exactly what his Lieutenant
was hiding.
***** No Worries *****
Matsumoto cursed under her breath as she kneeled on the floor, bending down to
look underneath the bookshelf. There, in the furthest corner, spun her pink
cell phone slowly until it came to a stop. Typical, she thought as she reached
in under the heavy piece of furniture, fingertips barely brushing against the
electronic device. She'd dropped it several times before, the sound of a
message being received never failing to startle her, but this time the phone
decided it wanted to stay in one place when used or not be used at all.
Back curled, cheek pressed against the cold floor and skirt hiking up
uncomfortably high on her bum, Matsumoto bit her lower lip in concentration.
She needed to read whatever message she'd received; it might be something
incredibly important. Like suspicious hollows appearances or even arrancars. If
she missed something like that, her Captain sure would be mad. But the phone
hadn't moved an inch in the right direction; only slightly further away. Taking
a deep breath, glaring and almost willing the thing to move, Matsumoto pushed
her arm as far as it would go into the small space and gave a squeal of
excitement when she managed to spin the phone around. She didn't notice the
door open, or the familiar whisper of repressed spiritual energy, being too
engrossed in her efforts of retrieving the pink object.
This, for the intruder, could only be positive considering the inner battle he
was currently having. Hitsugaya Toshiro, Captain and renowned prodigy, was
seconds away from snapping and running over to the woman positioned so
temptingly before him. He'd been looking everywhere for her, even sent a
message through the emergency-only phone, but this wasn't something he'd
expected to find.
On all fours and skirt revealing white panties, while apparently pretty
determined to get something underneath the huge bookshelf along the back wall
of the classroom, she looked incredibly inviting. Slowly, his hand on the
doorknob tightened its grip and closed the door soundlessly; fingers itching to
close the lock.
The reason as to why he'd been looking for her was pretty simple; he'd spent
two whole days locked away with paperwork and several cups of tea. Not only did
it tire his mind and made him irritable, but the lack ofsatisfying physical
contact was maddening. Her suffocating hugs when she came to refill his cup or
force him to eat wasn't what he missed, but the soft brush of lips against his,
and the feel of warm hands slipping underneath layers of clothes….it felt like
ages ago.
The lock clicked but Matsumoto remained oblivious to her Captain's presence,
finally making progress and almost succeeding in closing her fingers around the
cell phone long enough to drag it closer. The position she was in was very
uncomfortable; her back straining as she curved it to an extreme and twisted
her waist in order to fully take advantage of the little space she could use in
order to reach her phone. The skin of her bare knees felt raw after spending
such long time on the hard floor and her arms was all tingly at the lack of
blood flow. It was with a satisfied groan her hand finally closed around the
phone, and she licked her dry lips as she pulled it out and started to rise.
"Stay," a soft, familiar voice breathed in her ear; making her gasp in
surprise. Still on her knees, resting on her elbows and lower arms, Matsumoto
found herself frozen in wonder. Since when did he…? Her mind went practically
blank as she felt him press against her; his position behind her as clearly
suggestive as the movements of his hands as they caressed her stomach through
the white shirt.
"Keep quiet," he continued, further away this time; the feel of soft lips
gracing the middle of her back indicating where his head was. She didn't really
see a reason to disobey, and nibbled her lip in anticipation. Last time he was
like this was after a row they'd had, and she hadn't been disappointed.
Actually, it seemed like he was bolder when driven by the need to make amends
or relieve his stress. The latter probably being the cause this time. After
all, he had been working quite hard these past few days.
"Cap—", she began as his hand snuck up underneath her skirt, but the sudden
thrust of his hips against her replaced the words with a moan. She could feel
the hard, warm bulge against her ass and his hands cupping her just served to
tighten the knot of nerves in her lower stomach even more.
His breathing was heavy, heartbeat strong and fast against her back as he slid
past the white fabric of her panties. He stood on his knees between her
slightly spread legs, leaning over her body and nuzzling his nose between her
shoulder blades; reaching around her with his free hand to pull her body closer
still. His clothed member was throbbing and longing for release; the feel of
her soft bum pressed against him driving him insane.
"Aaahh," she breathed as his fingers found her clit, the bundle of nerves
almost burning as he caressed and pinched; having studied her body quite
thoroughly in the past. She lowered her head till her forehead touched the
floor and groaned; he was making her dizzy and she was already wetting his
smooth fingers with her rising arousal.
"Rangiku," he murmured, removing his fingers from her as she trembled in her
first orgasm; panting and spreading her legs wide. He brought them to his mouth
and sucked them clean; closing his eyes briefly as the taste of her caressed
his tongue. He felt high on lust and couldn't help but smirk at the trapped
woman underneath him. If only she knew how easily she could turn him on, if
only she knew how easily he could become a slave for her touch.
Licking his lips, he savored the taste that still lingered, and started to
unbutton her shirt with his now free hands. A deep growl emitted from his
throat as she moved her hips and rubbed her ass against him; urging him on. She
raised her head and glanced slyly over her shoulder to meet his blazing eyes;
raising a brow at his smirk before her eyes widened in surprise. He'd ripped
off the last part of her shirt, and was already slipping his fingers underneath
the edge of her panties. She didn't get time to object as he ripped them apart,
exposing her wet sex to cold air before his clothed crotch started grinding;
causing friction that sent shivers down her curved spine.
"What brought this on?" she asked in a husky voice, smiling as she heard the
sound of a zipper opening. Not long after his pants found themselves by his
knees and Matsumoto had to brace herself as he slammed into her; resting his
forehead between her shoulder blades. She moaned and let her head drop to the
floor again, waiting for him to move.
"I missed you," he breathed against the fabric of her shirt, "that's all."
She gasped in delight as he started to thrust into her in a rough, fast pace
that forced her to bit her lip hard in order to not scream out. He didn't make
it easier for her as his hand found her clit again; rubbing and keeping her
pleasure equal to his.
The muscles of her stomach constricted as waves of excitement hit her;
indescribable sensations playing with her body till she could but gasp and
whimper in a need for more. The white-haired Captain didn't hold back, he gave
what he could in order to feed on her beauty and warmth; the feeling of her
walls around him and the tantalizing noises escaping her full lips making his
head spin till thoughts were lost to the raw act of love, of burning lust and
desire.
The climax, the quick visit in heaven, came not too soon and not too late. Time
was irrelevant; he could only enjoy the present and the woman moaning his name.
He slumped over her, burying his head in her back as he breathed in long,
calming breath. Her flowery scent, thick and puzzling, soothed his rapid
heartbeats and filled his lungs.
She collapsed on the floor, spreading her arms wide and stretching as he lay on
top. Wincing, she nudged him with her elbow; breasts aching as they were
pressed against the hard floor. He slowly rolled off, not bothering with their
state of clothing and choosing to just lie on his side and gaze into her softly
smiling face.
"Well, that was…different," she said, grinning at the frown forming. He
suppressed a blush, the sight of her as she moved to mirror his pose enough to
arouse him yet again.
"You do realize Captain, that we're in a High School classroom?" she continued.
He stared blankly at her, preoccupied with the way her lips looked annoyingly
unkissed.
"Captain? Shouldn't you worry about someone walking in on us?" She frowned,
reaching out to poke him in his stomach. He just grabbed her hand and smirked.
"Don't worry Matsumoto; I locked the door. With kidou."
***** Disobedient *****
The fight had been almost equal, but she had made it. She was stronger and had
managed to get away alive, although barely that. The Arrancars were hard to
beat, hard to get to – with their hearts gone. They followed orders merely
because their master was more powerful, and would fight to the death no matter
what. They had to prove their strength and slay those whose work was to
eliminate them. She would fight till the death too, would prove her strength
and follow orders. But, unlike them, she had someone she wouldn't allow to die.
She couldn't. They were heartless, cold; but she…she loved him with a passion
strong enough to do anything.Anything.
And now here she was, stuck in a bed with crisp white sheets and a pissed
Captain as company. Well, she mused, at least he can't come over here to whack
my head. But he really needed to calm down. It was freezing!
"Captain! You really should be more grateful!" she exclaimed after a few more
moments of dead silence. His eyebrow twitched as his lips pursed and his hands
clenched the sheets covering his body, but not a sound came as reply.
"You know, that Arrancar was about to attack you from the behind! I had to get
up, otherwise, who knows what would've happened?" she whined when she realized
he wasn't going to talk to her just yet. It amazed her how childish he could be
at times like these.
"You were already half-dead from your own fight, and I told you loud and clear
to stay out of the way and wait for the 4th division!" he hissed, barely
restraining his anger as his knuckles turned white from his tight grip. Rangiku
sighed; smiling slightly. True, she had disobeyed his direct orders but in the
heat of battle and rage he hadn't been able to pay attention to his
surroundings. There hadn't been a choice; she'd just had to block the sharp
spike aiming for his back. It was hers to protect, was it not? Though it had
made him very, very, veryangry at her, she couldn't help but smile at his
obvious worry. The way he sulked and expressed his displeasure was adorable to
the point she didn't feel like defending her actions. It wasn't really
necessary either; he probably knew her reason, which made it all the more
interesting.
"I'm sorry I disobeyed your orders Captain, please punish me as you see fit,"
she drawled with a wink, giggling as he blushed and looked away; arms crossed
over his bandaged chest. He snorted and stayed silent, making her roll her
eyes. Was it really that bad? His foul mood is depressing, she thought with a
pout.
"Hey, Captain," she called as she sat up straighter and carefully swung her
sore legs over the bedside. "Let's sneak off and have some fresh air, no?"
His head turned and his eyes landed on her in time to see her rise from her bed
with shaky legs and a big, silly smile playing across her lips. Something
within him snapped and he found himself shivering at the sudden drop in the
temperature.
"MATSUMOTO!" he snapped, making her fall back on the bed with an 'ouff';
startled by the sudden outburst. She winced; lying sprawled over the bed with
her elbows as support, and stared at him with puzzlement. "Stay."
His deep growl made her rise a brow as his flaming eyes seemed to make her
unable to speak. A few moments passed soundlessly as he sat glaring at her,
receiving a blank look in return. Finally, she broke the tense silence with a
dry smile.
"Voff, Captain."
***** Important Lists *****
During the many years of friendship and as colleagues, Hitsugaya Toshiro had
learned a lot about things he hadn't thought were important at all. But
Matsumoto had taught him that however small something may seem, it could
actually be quite big (of which he had learned in many different ways, some
more pleasant than others). For one, you never ever refused Matsumoto Rangiku
sake. That had been a quite painful experience, although not in the physical
way (he'd gone out of his way to avoid getting his lieutenant depressed after
that). As time went by, his patience for her vanity ceased to exist completely
and after that he carefully noted in his book to let her sneak off to buy
whatever she needed at least once a month without complaining. It was well
worth it.
Also, never underestimate the intelligence of a drunk blonde. He still couldn't
enter the eastern storeroom of his division without carefully looking over his
shoulder and making sure he had the key.
And you know how they tell you to never mention a woman's age? Toshiro was full
of sympathy for those who make the mistake of not addressing Matsumoto
properly.
"Aw, I'm getting old," Matsumoto had whined as she'd gotten up from a long day
on the office's couch. Toshiro remembered the annoyance he'd felt back then as
if it was just a few minutes ago (the couch was still warm at the moment, and
he was once again wondering how she managed to sneak off).
"You got old a few hundred years ago, Matsumoto," turned out to be his one-way
ticket to hell for over a month. Never had he thought someone underneath his
rank could make his life so difficult.
He grimaced at the memory and leaned back in his chair; eying the papers before
him. The list of things Not-To-Do was long, very long, and he had started to
believe the list of things To-Do would be easier to follow. But it turned out
to be quite difficult to get a hold of that knowledge. Staring down at the
paper before him, he frowned.
"Thank her for the tea (when it's late, smile), allow her to sleep for at least
one hour on the couch, buy her souvenirs when visiting the living world
(preferably chocolate), pretend not to notice when she's drunk and sneaks up
from behind to hug me," he read out a loud, muttering under his breath as he
tapped the brush against the desk's surface. His cheeks were pink at this point
and he silently asked himself once again why he was doing this.
Sighing, he didn't even bother to answer the question yet again.
"Captain!" a jolly voice called as the door swung open to reveal a smiling
blonde with a large basket of fruits resting on her one hip. "I've brought some
snacks!"
As she entered and walked towards his desk, he refreshed his grip of the brush
and swiftly scribbled down another small paragraph.
"Here," she said, having put down the basket and fished up a red apple; shoving
it into his mouth and holding it still as he took a bite. She smiled as he
chewed the too large piece, reaching out and brushing away a drop of juice from
the corner of his mouth before he beat her to it.
"I couldn't find any watermelon, but you need to taste some other stuff from
time to time, no?" she said with a laugh, paying no mind to his light blush.
"Hn," he replied with a smirk, leaning forward to take another bite from the
apple in her hand. With that, the newest addition to his list was proven a
success. Her smile was warm and her blue eyes sparkled in the light coming
through the windows. As she started talking about the great effort she'd made
to get a hold of these fruits he wondered what more to add. Perhaps what he had
in mind should be on the Not-To-Do list, but the fruit juice on her lips seemed
delicious…
***** Good Morning, Honey *****
Morning – the time of the day which she used to loathe, when she woke up to
face the consequences of too much sake. Be it an empty bed or a shared, she
never found it pleasant. But nowadays, it was different. She blinked a few
times, clearing her blurry vision, and rested her icy eyes on the face before
her. Teal eye were hidden, an otherwise frowning mouth was relaxed and pulled
up in a soft, peaceful smile. His hair was tangled, the spikes no longer harsh
but falling in a soft mess around his head. She reached up to run a hand
through the smooth strands, amazed at how thick it was. He groaned and leaned
into her touch, snuggling closer to her warmth. She giggled and placed a light
kiss on his nose, caressing his cheek as it wrinkled in distaste. He didn't
like it when she placed such light kisses on his skin. Why, she didn't know but
it his reactions were adorable.
"Mm," he mumbled; sighing as her hand went down from his cheek to his arm,
tracing his muscles and skin. She loved waking up to this; there was nothing
better than to take full advantage of his sleeping figure. If she was lucky,
she could steer the way his dreams went and more than once she'd given him the
wake-up call other men could only imagine her doing.
"Toshiro," she moaned in his ear as she moved to lie across his chest.
"Toshiro."
He groaned again, arms moving up to embrace her slim waist. She grinned as she
sat up a bit, straddling his hips and finding a comfortable position before
leaning down to lightly kiss his lips.
"I want you," she breathed out, noting how he shivered underneath her. Her
tongue flicked out to lick the tip of his nose; making him wrinkle it again and
causing a slight frown to disturb his blissful features. Grinding against his
already semi-hard member, she debated on whether she should go all out of leave
him to wake up unsatisfied. The latter always had interesting consequences. But
as soon as her movements slowed and she was about to roll off, teal eyes
snapped.
"Wha—" she gasped, startled as he pushed her to the side and pinned her down
easily; a smug grin on his lips as he pressed his arousal against hers. Biting
her lip, she tried to regain her posture but it was lost when he leaned down to
capture her mouth in a deep, literally breath-taking kiss. It was one of those
that make her knees weak, but fortunately, she was already lying down.
"And what have I said about this, lieutenant Matsumoto?" he breathed in her ear
after breaking the kiss, panting slightly. She licked her abused lips and tried
to calm her heart down, slowly wrapping her legs around his hips and brining
them closer. Her back arched and he moaned as slick folds were parted by a
stiff shaft gliding through; pressing against a sensitive bundle of nerves.
"I believe you said that I have to suffer the consequences and not complain if
I can't walk properly for the rest of the day?" she whispered in respond, voice
husky and body quivering in impatience. He smirked before kissing her neck and
making his way back to her lips.
Really, mornings were the best.
 
***** Keys *****
This time around, they'd gotten themselves their own apartment. Toshiro had
been reluctant to bother Inoue yet again, and surprisingly, Matsumoto only
pointed out they would have to pay rent, rather than complaining. Of course,
this could be for the simple reason that she would have him for herself during
the time they spent in their cheap flat, but that didn't bother him too much.
Apart from when he had real work to do and she wouldn't stop being gorgeous and
annoyingly tempting. One may think that once you've tasted what you've longed
for, you will find it easier to resist. Toshiro had painfully been proved
wrong.
But today, things were going very smoothly. He had gotten up, kicked Matsumoto
out of his bed as per usual, gotten dressed, eaten breakfast, fled the wet
morning kisses of his lieutenant with success and dragged her ass to work.
Patrolling the streets for hollows had proved to be a good occupation too,
since it kept him on a safe distance from a rather disgruntled blonde. She
never did like it when he refused to give in. But then again, it always came
back to bite him at some point. But after a whole day without any incidents
(apart from Matsumoto sneaking off to shop, and coming back in a very new, and
very short, skirt), the thought had completely left his mind. And as he stood
before the door to their flat, he was too busy wondering where his keys had
gone anyway.
"Dammit! I'm sure I put them in my pocket," he mumbled as he rummaged his
jean's, jacket's and shirt's pockets. A familiar spiritual presence made him
sigh as he turned to ask Matsumoto for her copy of the key; giving up.
"Hey, Matsumoto," he greeted as she walked up to him, skirt swaying along with
her hips. "Do you have a key?"
She giggled, making him frown. "Yeah, of course I have Captain. Where's yours?"
"I don't know," he grumbled while crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes
betraying him as they glanced down to take in her long, slender legs. He
quickly looked away when she started to move closer, making him blush slightly
as she reached his stiff figure; leaning in to kiss his cheek.
"What if I say I do?" she mumbled against his skin, not moving an inch even
when he reached up to grab her arms and push her away.
"Matsumoto, did you take my key?" he asked, voice harsh and loud as he
struggled to not show how affected he was by her proximity. Glaring at her, he
bit his tongue and waited for a reply.
"Yeah, I did," she answered with a grin, standing back a bit. "It's right
here."
While she points at her, as always, well exposed cleavage his eyes can't help
but he drawn to follow the silver chain falling down between the soft mounds.
Frowning, he looks away with a growl.
"Stop playing around Matsumoto, just open the door," he said, making her smile
slyly. He paused impatiently before continuing with annoyance straining his
voice. "I won't fetch it, idiot."
"Aw, but Captain, I put it there just for you."
"Troublesome," he snapped, reaching out and grabbing the chain. She followed as
he pulled at the silvery metal, nose brushing against his and body pressed a
bit too close. He stayed still, taking out the key and removing it from the
necklace with ease. Well, he mused, he didn't have any work waiting for him
inside…
"You're hopeless," he sighed before claiming her lips, making her moan as he
deepened it and pushed his tongue past full lips; tasting her sweet mouth. She
wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer still; titling her
head to give him more access. He mentally smirked, gripping the key securely in
his hand and moving to unlock the door. As he slowly turned the key, his knee
went up between her legs to press against her clothed sex; easily distracting
her from the click of the lock. Her breath hitched and she moaned low in her
throat, unsuspecting. He turned down the door handle, swiftly pushing the door
open and securing an arm around Matsumoto's waist to pull her with him as he
turned. She gasped in surprise and broke the kiss to stare at his wide smirk.
Pulling her with him, he entered their flat and closed the door behind them.
Locking it, he turned to capture her lips once again.
"Don't steal my keys again," he said when they paused to catch their breath,
making her giggle.
"I won't," she answered, winking. She would just steal something else next
time.
***** Christmas Present *****
He had always tolerated her behavior and silly ideas, even around Christmas.
But this year, she truly did drive him beyond mad. It didn't help what he did;
she always walked away with a smile. He'd tried to order her as her Captain,
he'd tried to threaten her with paperwork, he's tried almost everything; yet no
results. He couldn't get the stupid idea out of her head and it was more
frustrating than all her hyper moods on at the same time. He swore she had
horns and a tail whenever he glared her way, or tried to convince her she
should just give it up.
Who the hell wears panties saying "do not open till Christmas" anyway?!
***** It's Alright *****
Chapter Summary
     Sort of sequel to #51 "Disobedient".
In the end, she didn't leave the room. He had gotten worse somehow, probably
because of a cold or something like that. Being as mad as he had, it was a
miracle she hadn't gotten one too. He could be so stupid sometimes, but right
now, she was wondering if maybe it was her fault. It was, after all, because of
her he was angry. They said it was nothing serious, so he should be alright.
But that didn't keep her from worrying. She had gotten up from her bed and made
her way to his on shaky legs, pulling up a chair to sit by his bedside. It was
late, nighttime, and he was sound asleep. He'd passed out earlier and she
doubted he had any energy to open his eyes. Smiling, she sat watching him.
Hours had passed, and she was long lost in a daze when footsteps down the hall
outside called her attention. She frowned and looked over her shoulder,
waiting. She recognized the spiritual energy, but couldn't place it. Her mind
was tired and she had long left till she was healed. Apparently, she was worse
off than her Captain at the moment. Well, at least she was conscious.
"Rangiku-san," a familiar voice whispered as the door opened to reveal a
shadowed figure. She blinked a few times, her blurry vision focusing on the
face of Hinamori Momo. Smiling lightly, Matsumoto was about to greet her when
she suddenly ran over and flung her arms around her neck; hugging her close.
Gasping in pain, Rangiku bit her tongue and slowly wrapped her arms around the
fragile body before her.
"Is he going to be alright, Rangiku-san?" she asked with a sob, sounding
frightened. Rangiku sighed and pulled her into her lap, careful to not stretch
her wounds as the girl curled up in her embrace. So naïve, so stupid…so broken.
"Of course he is, Hinamori-chan," she assured her, stroking her head and
smiling calmly. The girl looked up, eyes shimmering with tears, and nodded.
Silently, Rangiku let her rest in her arms. She understood the girls feelings
right now, understood her worry for the white-haired boy in the bed. She wanted
to soothe it, to offer comfort in the way she herself would want it. She wished
the warmth of Hinamori's body was calming, wished her grip of her was
comforting. But the images of Toshiro fighting for her life and almost losing
his own, if it wasn't for the shield her body had provided. Deep in her
thoughts, she didn't notice teal eyes open. The silence was only broken by
helpless sobs and heavy, pained breathing.
-
Toshiro stared at the two figures by his bed, too tired to make a move. He had
heard her move to sit by his side hours ago, and been awake even when Momo
barged in. He had heard her lights steps, sensed her spiritual energy approach,
and noticed the pain in Matsumoto's gasp. The worry in Momo's voice, the
soothing hum of Matsumoto's words, all clear in his fuzzy mind. His gaze took
in the small body wrapped in strong but too thin arms, wondering why all he
caused was worry. He really was Matsumoto's opposite.
Wasn't it his duty to comfort the crying girl in his lieutenant arms? Wasn't it
his duty to protect the woman who almost died for him? She was looking so worn,
so pained. Tiredly, he reached out to brush his pale fingers against
Matsumoto's knee. She looked up in surprise and stared, before flashing him a
warm smile. She didn't notify Momo of his awakening but merely moved her hand
to rest over his.
"Our dear little Shiro-chan is pretty stupid, isn't he?" Matsumoto mumbled. He
frowned but didn't possess the energy to tell her off.
"Why?" Momo asked, voice muffled against Matsumoto's shoulder. She smiled wider
and didn't break eye contact with him as she considered her reply.
"He thinks too much," she began, pausing to fight down a wince as she giggled.
"He doesn't realize we have our own choice. Contrary to his belief, he's not
responsible for everything."
Whatever she had seen in his eyes, it seemed like it was enough to read his
mind. He glared at her as Momo agreed with a silent "yes", wishing she would
stop smiling so softly. Why did it seem like his presence was enough?
-
"You better go to bed now Hinamori-chan," Rangiku said, loosening her grip and
helping the girl stand. She didn't notice her Shiro-chan's open eyes as she
stared at the floor, wiping her eyes.
"Thank you, Rangiku-san," she whispered, blushing. Rangiku patted her head and
grinned, feeling exhaustion numbing her muscles.
"Don't mention it; it's hard to see him like this for me too. But try not to
worry too much, okay?"
"Okay. Good night Rangiku-san, and get well," she mumbled before leaving.
Rangiku stared after her before looking back down at the pale face of her
Captain.
"You shouldn't be awake Captain, you need sleep," she stated as she pulled up
her knees to her chin and hugged them, biting her lip hard at the pain shooting
through her body. He glared at her, his hand having fallen off her knee and
breaking the contact.
"You…shouldn't..ei-ther," he managed to get out, voice hoarse and weak. She
rolled her eyes but otherwise didn't move, observing him as he blinked tiredly.
"I'm glad," she said quietly after a few moments of silence, "I'm glad that
you're going to be alright."
"Stupid," he mumbled, unable to put any strength in the words. "It's just…a
cold. It'll…be over…in…a day. You shouldn't worry…idiot."
"Hn." Toshiro grinned at her half-hearted reply and turned his body to the
side, once again reaching out to her to brush against her pale hand loosely
gripping her shin. She shivered at the contact and took his hand in hers,
squeezing gently.
"You shouldn't get angry like that Captain," she mumbled after a while, letting
her legs slide down to place her feet on the cold floor; sleep ready to claim
her. "Colds can be dangerous when you're wounded."
"You're worse…off than…me, Matsumoto." The scolding tone in his voice was lost
to his sore throat, but either way, it didn't have any effect other than
putting a crooked smile on her full lips. He watched quietly as her eyelids
drooped low, closed and snapped open. She repeated this a few times before she
fell forward and almost knocked the wind out of him; catching herself just in
time by gripping the edge of the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief; her head
inches from his stomach.
"Sorry," she whispered, trying to blink the sleep away from her eyes without
much success. "I think I'll go to bed now."
"Wai---" he began, sighing as she stood and fell back down in the chair; legs
too weak to carry the sudden weight put on them. She blinked in confusion,
about to get up again, before he snatched out to grip her thin wrist and pull
her towards him. She was light, and easy to steer despite his weakened state.
Sprawled across his waist and chest, Toshiro fought down a blush and had to
admit she would have to get into a comfortable position by herself.
"Sleep…here," he demanded softly as she looked up at him, surprised and
puzzled.
"Is that really alright Captain?" He winced at her question, looking away in
embarrassment at her raised brow and twinkling eyes. Of course it wasn't – what
would people say when they found them in the morning?
"Yes…it's alright…Matsumoto," he said after a while, turning his head to stare
into her eyes. She giggled softly as she moved up a bit and snuggled close;
finding a comfortable position with her head resting in the crook of his neck
and her hand on his chest. It didn't take long before she was asleep, breathing
deep and even with her lips slightly parted. Toshiro smiled, blushing hotly as
he enjoyed the warmth only she could provide. When they later were found in the
morning, the scandalized reactions never happened as Toshiro had feared. It
turned out to be, alright.
***** Christmas Kiss *****
It was 'finally' Christmas, and the office of the 10th division was as prepared
for the celebration as it could be. Well, in spirits anyway. The Captain had
long since gotten rid of the jolly decorations that had covered the walls and
windows, even hung down from the ceiling, and done his best to remain scowling
and frowning during most of his time spent with his over-excited lieutenant.
But, at the moment, he was out on an errand while she was 'dutifully' – as she
called it – occupying the couch and he could finally relax. Sighing, Hitsugaya
Toshrio allowed himself a smile. It didn't help at all to add to her Christmas
mood by accidently showing any sign of enjoyment; it only made it a thousand
times worse. He had enough to deal with as it was, didn't he?
"Ah, I hope this year's Christmas party won't turn out like last year's!"
"Haha, yeah, you're right! You ended up making a big fool out of yourself,
didn't you?"
"Gah shut up, will you?!"
He watched as a pair of young-looking shinigamis passed, snorting in amusement
as he recalled the party they'd mentioned. His alcoholic lieutenant had been a
handful; singing and dancing and breaking every naïve man's heart by hanging
onto his arm like they were in a…relationship…and then… refusing to let go… He
hoped she wouldn't get as drunk this year too, but he knew it was in vain. He'd
just have to stay out of the way this time, to avoid making people get the
wrong idea.
Taking a few flash-steps, he soon arrived by the Captains' archives to pick up
the last documents before the short holiday. It was of a pitiful size compared
to what he was used to, but he really didn't mind. Contrary to his lieutenant's
belief, he didn't enjoy paperwork he just had a sense of responsibility and he
was mature enough to not complain about it. Unlike some.
"Ah, Toshiro-kun!" a voice called, making him stop on his way and turn around.
Captain Ukitake greeted him with a big smile and friendly wave; walking over to
the much shorter Shiro-can.
"I see you're almost done with all your work!" he stated as he came to a stop.
"That's nice, no? Finally getting some time to relax!"
"Well not really," Toshiro drawled, a mental picture of Matsumoto Rangiku in
full Christmas mood appearing uninvited. "I've still got a lot to deal with in
the office before it's over.."
"Haha, you're right! Your dear lieutenant must be really excited! Is she taking
you to the Christmas party tonight?"
"Ah! That's not really what I meant…" he mumbled in protest, blushing lightly.
How did he know he was talking about her? Clearing his throat, he continued.
"And yes, I guess I have no choice. You know how she gets…"
"Ahh, lovely Rangiku-chan," Ukitake agreed, nodding, "she can come up with some
interesting things when in the right mood!"
"Interesting, you say…"
"Well, I must be off or my 3rd seats will get a bit too worried! Say hello to
Rangiku from me, and wish her a Merry Christmas, no?" Ukitake said with a
smile, starting to walk away as he waved to his smaller colleague.
"You're right," Toshiro agreed, grinning. "And yes, I will. Merry Christmas,
Captain Ukitake."
With a few flash-steps, he was right outside his office within seconds. How he
loved this way of travelling; made his work go so much faster. Not that he
minded it too much, but someti----
"---Matsumoto?!"
Having slid the door open, and walked into something soft and warm only to
almost bounce back a step, Toshiro blinked and realized he'd just run into his
lieutenant. She had gasped at the impact, although it wasn't that hard, and was
struggling to regain her balance while he tried to figure out what she'd been
doing standing on her tiptoes right behind the door…
"Oh, Captain! You're back!" she exclaimed with a nervous laugh; standing steady
on her two feet by now. Toshiro raised a brow as he straightened out the
slightly wrinkled papers in his hands, wondering why he had to deal with these
strange occurrences every day.
"Well spotted," he said, sighing. "What were you doing just now, Matsumoto?"
"Oh, hehe…well…" More nervous laughing, a hand behind her head scratching…what
was she hiding? Wait, she had been stretching up – standing on her tiptoes –
right behind the door…reaching the doorframe…trying to…
"Matsumoto, if you're trying to redecorate the office then you can forge---" he
began, looking up in annoyance to see what she had put up this time. Stopping
mid sentence, his eyes widened and his cheek colored. A mistletoe
"Hey, Matsumoto…"
"Eeehh, yes, Captain?"
"What are you planning?" He stared at her with what he hoped would be a hard,
flat look but the embarrassment and mental images made it slightly difficult to
keep a straight face. His question seemed to have brought her back on track,
previously startled by his sudden appearance, and she grinned slyly as she took
a step closer and leaned in.
"Well, it was going to be a surprise for later, but I might as well," she said
sighing, as if slightly disappointed, before coming even closer and stealing a
light kiss. His lips parted in an 'oh' as she straightened up again, grinning
wide at his obvious blush.
"Merry Christmas Captain!" she exclaimed in a light sing-song voice, reaching
out and crushing him in one of her fearful hugs. The familiarity of the
situation helped him calm down, and as she let go of him he licked his lips in
wonder, freezing when he tasted chocolate.
"Oi, Matsumoto," he growled, making her blink innocently. "Did you eat of the
chocolate?"
"Err…perhaps?"
"What do you mean perhaps?! I told you not too! I ordered you not to! It was
for later! Gah, you're hopeless sometimes, you know that?"
"But I did it for your sake Captain!" she retorted with a wink, making him
clench the papers hard despite his mental chant to calm down.
"How was that for my sake Matsumoto?!"
"Well, you see," she began, smiling innocently, "I wanted to taste good for
you."
At his blank stare and burning blush, she laughed and patted his back in mock
sympathy. "I'll pick you up for the Christmas party around 5, okay? See ya!"
And with that, she left her stunned Captain and, of course, the paperwork
behind.
"MATSUMOTO GET YOUR LAZY ASS BACK HERE!!"
***** Bankai *****
Who would've thought, that it was possible? She certainly hadn't. A few months
back, she might've said it was a possibility. A year ago she'd laughed her ass
off. But here she was, standing tall with blazing, icy eyes focused ahead. Her
bakai released – the reason to her late nights and heavy hangovers not far away
– Matsumoto Rangiku felt powerful. Her anger, her hurt and pain fueled her
passion as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Screams and metal against metal
deafened her ears, blood and dirt dulled her scent, cuts and bruises numbed her
skin and his ever-lasting grin blinded her eyes. There was nothing, nothing at
all, but him. She leapt through clouds of dust, she swung her zanpaktou's
lonely guard and directed hot, burning ash towards anyone who dared interfere.
He was hers.
Metal grew longer, aiming to pierce her heart but failing. How arrogant, she
mused. He could not survive this, there was no chance. She could end it now,
with one flick of her wrist, but her mind was screaming in agony and long of
release. He would suffer; he would go down with a fight. No matter what he'd
done, her heart ached for him more than because of him. Dying seconds after
entering a fight was not what she wished for him and his twisted pride. Maybe
she did it out of pity, or affection, or cruelty. She honestly did not know.
Her sleeve was cut open. Her fingers bled and a trail of sweat disappeared down
her cleavage. He had yet to release his own beast, his own bankaiGood, she
would not allow him to.
Piercing pain; gut-wrenching agony. His sword was planted deep in her shoulder.
It slid across her bones, cut into her flesh like a knife in butter. Somewhere,
she heard a scream. It couldn't be her own; why would she shout her own name?
Gritting her teeth at the effort of staying remotely still as he withdrew his
blade from her body, she got ready. This had gone on long enough.
The screaming continued.
What? Did she look that bad? Detached from reality, she saw his eyes open wide.
He was ready, ready to kill. Well, she thought, so am I. Guiding her zanpakou
with a simple move of her arm and hand, she whispered a command lost to the
battle cries around her. Black ash, glowing and emitting hellish flames, flew
towards him. Burning his eyes and skin, surrounding his body within seconds, it
growled and hissed viciously. He screamed in pain as the fine ash crept up his
nose and down his throat; entering his body swiftly. She could only image his
pain, could only compare it to her own as she flicked her wrist and sent him to
his death. His heart must be in a million pieces, his insides wrecked and
useless. She watched as he fell, slowly it seemed, towards the ground. The end.
It was the end. Of everything they'd shared, memories, one-sided feelings and
regret. How come she's not crying? Where are her tears? Puzzled, she sinks to
the ground. Her dazed state prevents her from reacting to the call of her name,
the feel of familiar spirit energy and strong arms slinking around her waist. A
jolt of pain as she is roughly dragged along in a flash-step shakes her mind
and clears the dull and numbed thoughts. She finds herself outside the
battlefield, hastily pulled towards a small, flat chest and uncomfortably
placed on the ground; her waist slightly twisted to allow her position against
the smaller frame. The grip of her trusted zanpaktou loosens and she allows
herself to breathe out. The pain is beating like a pulse in her ears, and the
desperate questions and accusations are muffled. But it doesn't matter. With a
smile, she recognizes the voice. She knows his name.
-
"Did you see it, Captain? My…Bankai?"
-
-
***** Curiosity Killed the Cat (Tattoos part 2) *****
Rolling her shoulders, cracking her neck, stretching her arms, bumping up and
down on her tiptoes a few times, throwing her hair back and finally cracking
her fingers in another stretch of her arms, Matsumoto Rangiku looked quite
strange. Amusing, but strange. The mocking glint in her eyes and her crooked
smile only confirmed his suspicions; she knew he was up to something. Perhaps
asking her for a sparring session wasn't that smart, but he was getting
desperate. If this wouldn't work, he would allow her to win and then buy her
crazy amounts of sake to 'celebrate' and try to trick her in her intoxicated
state. Perhaps that would be easier?
Well, drunk or not, Matsumoto was still quite observant and annoyingly good at
reading his behavior. The fact that she was rubbing it in right now didn't help
matters.
"Ready Captain?" she chirped, grinning as she took a stance and grabbed her
zanpaktou. He followed suit, not bothering to reply. He needed to land a
perfect hit, cutting through fabric enough for whatever she had to be revealed
but not enough for her uniform to slip loose. That would be quite embarrassing.
Frowning, he went for an attack. She blocked it easily, disappearing for a
second before reappearing behind. He twisted around and shielded himself with
his blade, pushing back as she tried to get him off balanced. She fell back and
returned to her former stance, waiting. She was very good at dodging his
attacks, so he needed to concentrate. As his eyes thinned, locking on a
possible opening, he prepared for another attack. This time, he would land a
hit.
It wasn't until the ripping of fabric and the surprised gasp reached his ear
that he realized he didn't know which side the tattoo was on. Swallowing, he
turned his head. What was he going to see? Had he picked the right side?
Directing his gaze down to the little skin exposed on her right hip, he groaned
in annoyance. Nothing!
"Aw! Captain, if you wanted me naked you could've just asked!" Her cooing
brought him back from his thoughts of failure and he flushed a deep red.
"Matsumoto!" he snapped, embarrassment written all over him. She grinned and
sheathed her sword, before placing her left hand on her hips and letting her
right hand finger the split fabric.
"I can't fight like this," she said with a mock pout, winking. "I better go
change! It was nice of you to ask me to spar; we haven't done that in ages!
Well, have a good day Captain. See ya!"
And she was gone. Yet again. He felt like strangling someone, or at least blow
up four or five buildings.
A week, a whole bloody week of trying and still nothing! Was it really worth
it? It was just a tattoo after all, who cares?
But it had made Matsumoto Rangiku blush. Matsumoto Rangiku, blush
He supposed the long hours of trying to come up with subtle questions and the
agonizing effort of being in Abarai's, Yumichika's and Ikkaku's company is
worth it for the greater cause. Not everything had been that bad, really. Nanao
was, if impossible to persuade, quite an enjoyable company. He'd known the
lieutenant's of the 8th and 10th divisions was close, but it seemed they shared
a deep friendship despite their differences. He hadn't been able to find out
anything he didn't already know, not even when laying heavy emphasis on the
fact that Matsumoto could be quite reckless and do things she'd regret or that
was considered pretty…improper. Instead, when he'd walked out of the 8th
division's office, he'd felt strangely puzzled rather than gloriously
enlightened. It had felt as if she'd gained information even though he'd been
the one asking questions.
Sighing in agitation, he decided to retire to his office for now. He would go
to the bar tonight and seek the drunk Matsumoto out instead of being the one
paying for the seemingly endless bottles of sake, coming to the conclusion that
it would be less suspicions that way. The day he bought sake to his alcoholic
lieutenant was the day he was out of ideas, which he wasn't. Yet.
As he sat down by his desk and decided to make a sort of mental list. What had
he done so far? What could he do more? He would find out her secret. No matter
what.
Why would she get a tattoo with connections to him anyway? As far as he knew,
tattoo's were permanent. It irked him not to have an answer.
Shaking his head, he started to count up the different little adventures he'd
been on these past few days.
Day 1: Staring constantly at Matsomoto, trying to grasp the concept of her
having a tattoo and that she had actually blushed.
Day 2: Returning to Soul Society and avoiding Matsumoto like the plague, she'd
been more than a little suspicious at his sudden interest and she'd taken any
opportunity available to make embarrassing assumptions and suggestions.
Day 3: Plotting was finally started. Staring hadn't been enough for her to
suddenly confess her secret out of guilt. Or something like that.
Day 4: He'd found out what various beauty supplies was by engaging Yumichika in
a conversation. This had led him to believe Matsumoto was a kind soul deep down
inside for sparing him the detailed description of how she made her hair look
so shiny and touchable.
Day 5: Figuring it couldn't get worse, he'd gone to Ikkaku in hope of that as
her drinking partner, he would know and not get into heated rants about split
ends and ugly people. Sadly, it had gone worse. He now knew more that he'd
liked to know about Matsumoto's drunken escapades, and was mortified to learn
she'd composed a song about Shiro-chan and his adorable moods. He'd done well
without the knowledge that she'd French-kissed Hinamori once too. No wonder she
blushed whenever his lieutenant was around.
Day 6: Now realizing that asking Abarai would be pretty logical, since he'd
been the one to bring it up in the first place, he'd gone to the 6th division
only to find Byakuya shoving candy down a hyper pinkhead's throat. Apparently
Abarai was off training, so he'd had to spend an hour finding exactlywhere.
Once he did, he wished he hadn't. Kuchiki Rukia had been there, and while
Abarai was on a break she'd probably started giving him 'feedback' in the form
of drawings. Abarai had almost run him over in his relief of being excused. His
information had been useless though. He knew, but wouldn't tell. It was almost
amusing to watch his pathetic attempts to change subject. It had ended with a
surprisingly serious advice on Abarai's part. "If she hasn't told you yet, then
she doesn't want you to know yet. Ask her herself if you really want to know,"
he'd said. Not much help there either.
Now having arrived to day 7, with another failure to add, he felt rather
tempted to actually ask her himself. But if he did, and she didn't answer, then
she'd know exactly what he was after and do her best to actually hide it. She
wasn't making an effort now, because she didn't know that he knew.
All in all, this was all getting pretty frustrating he concluded.
But he wouldn't give up.
 
                                      oOo
"I'm telling you, he's up to something!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in
the air to further stress her statement. Nanao blinked, hiding a smirk behind
her hand as she watched Rangiku pace back and forth.
"Maybe he's just finally realized what a beautiful woman you are and how lucky
he is, Ran-chan," the Captain of the 8th division cooed, resting on his desk
with sake bottle in hand.
"Tsk, poor Captain wouldn't know attraction even if it came hitting him in his
face. Trust me, I've tried," she muttered, coming to a stop in front of the
desk and swiftly taking the sake bottle. Draining a healthy gulp of the liquid,
she shook her head sadly and continued her restless pacing; ignoring the
whimpers from the Captain already missing his alcohol.
"Would you two please stop drinking in the office, during work hours?" Nanao
drawled, sighing when she realized no one was listening. Well, what had she
expected?
"First, he stared at me like I've grown an extra head or something, then he
avoids me, and then he starts disappearing at random to gods knows where! I
don't know what's going on! Shunsui, what should I do?" Her rant was slightly
slurred due to her intoxicated state. How she'd managed to consume so much sake
this early in the day was a mystery to Nanao, especially since she was sure it
wasn't long ago she'd been off to spar with Captain Hitsugaya. If only she
could find her stock of sake, then perhaps she could reduce her drinking habits
to a more normal level.
"Easy, Ran-chan. You just have to…find out!" her Captain chirped, taking her
back to the cruel reality. Having two infamous drunks in the same office with
just one, quickly emptying, bottle of sake was, indeed, a cruel fate.
"YEAH!" came Rangiku's eager reply, her expression impressed. Her brain must be
working overtime now, Nanao mused. "I'll just find out what he's after! Thank
you Shunsui, Nanao!"
And with that, the inebriated bundle of energy and spontaneous stupidity was
gone. Sighing, the remaining lieutenant walked over to slap some sense into her
crying Captain; taking his mind off his bottle of sake Rangiku had brought with
her. She wondered who would find out first; Captain Hitsugaya, or Rangiku?
 
                                      oOo
After walking around for a good while, she decided that she wasn't going to be
able to form a plan. So, sticking with the easiest and most logical course of
action, Matsumoto Rangiku makes her way towards the office of the 10th
division.
She was just going to ask him, it was a piece of cake! Grinning, she entered
and spotted her white-haired Captain by his usual place behind the large desk
of his.
"Heeeeeey Captain!" she greeted, skipping over to where he sat. Looking up, he
eyed her suspiciously. "I've got something to ask you!"
"Oh?" he drawled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Eagerly, she
sits down on the edge of the desk and leans forward slightly; poking his chest
with a finger.
"Yeah, yeah! You know how strange you've been acting Captain? There's something
you wanna know, isn't there? What is it? Tell me!"
Swatting her hand away, he frowns and struggles to keep his blush down. She
seems drunk enough not to notice, but this woman could hold her liquor and
looks can be deceiving.
"Stop this nonsense. What makes you say that?" he muttered, sending her a
glare.
"C'mon Captain! It started after we'd been in the living world, didn't it?
So…it's gotta have happened somewhere before then…hmm… Is it about your
boxers?"
His eyes thinned to slits. "What about them?"
"Ehehehehehe, never mind. Um, is it about how I disappeared for an afternoon? I
was just off shopping!"
"So that was what you did. Matsumoto, how many times do I---"
"---no? Okay, is it about that cat?"
"Wha---"
"—or the spiked coke?"
"Matsu—"
"---maybe it's about that rental car, I swear I was going to return it unharmed
but—"
"---would you please let me---"
"---ooohh it's the tattoo, isn't it?"
He blinked, staring blankly at her happy smile. She'd just admitted she had
one, now this was his chance!
"Oh, damn," she said, seeing his reaction. Her smile faded along with her
pleased feeling of having figured out what was wrong. He wasn't supposed to
know about that!
"Matsumoto," he began, taking a firm hold of her wrist to keep her from
fleeing, "spill."
Somehow, she knew she shouldn't have tried to figure out what was on his mind.
***** Remembered *****
"Hey brat, have you even thought of becoming a  Shinigami
Just so you know...if things stay as they are…this power of yours will
overwhelm you and do ever greater harm to those around you.
A half pint with your  kinda  strength needs to learn how to keep it under
wraps.
It's like a voice is echoing in your head…am I right?
You must identify the source…then and only then can you begin the long journey
to mastering your powers. In order to do that, you have no other choice but to
become a  Shinigami
Hope you heard me, ' cuz  I hate having to repeat myself…
Munchkin…"
She wouldn't have to repeat herself, he mused. He remembered her little speech
word by word. He'd done as she'd said, he was even a top student now. His
zanpaktou's name was Hyōrinmaru, the strongest of ice and water zanpaktous. He
would not let his own powers harm those around him, he would gain complete
control over the insanely strong dragon within. But what she had failed to
mention, was how mind-numbingly boring it was.
He'd already surpassed most in his classes, been moved up several years, and
was still not satisfied. Information was easily absorbed, easily remembered,
yet it was repeated again and again. Kidou spells were easily memorized, but
difficult to handle properly, and yet they went through the written basics
still he was ready to stop going to class and start training on his own. Same
went for swordplay, fencing and traditional, rough fighting. The instructors
kept the fights restrained, kept them under control and forced them to use
simple, easily dodged moves that was for the amateurs they were so happily
criticizing.
He was desperate for a change in the never-ending routine of his classes, and
it was a pleasant surprise to learn that they would finally fight hollows. Only
weak ones, of course. And under the supervision an already graduated and
experienced Shinigami. But still, it would be fighting
"You will be divided into groups of three and each group will be given a
supervisor, who will make sure nothing goes wrong. He or she will be to your
help, and will also report back to tell us how you handled the situation.
Listen carefully as I call up your names and give you your Shinigami's name and
your group's number," their teacher explained. The young, white-haired boy
listened dispassionately as several names was called, along with this.
"Hitsugaya Toshrio" was heard, and he looked up in response. He was in group 7,
together with Tarou and Kazu. Their supervisor was one Matsumoto Rangiku. He
wondered if she was a cold woman, ruthless and chaotic or if she was a beauty,
tender and warm. Her name had a strange combination in its meanings.
"You will all gather outside after lunch and then head out with your respective
teammates and supervisor. Remaining information will be given to you later on.
Class dismissed!"
Students moved, swiftly exiting the classroom while talking excitedly among
themselves. Toshiro moved out of the way and easily snuck passed elbows and
arms to escape the class. He was used to the disadvantages of his size, along
with his young age and superior intellect. Easily mistaken for a little snotty
brat, or not seen at all, he'd learn to dodge whatever obstacle put in his way.
The sneers and snide comments about arrogance didn't anger him anymore, only
made him annoyed. If they were outsmarted by a kid, they didn't have much to
brag about anyway.
"Hey! Toshiro!" Kazu called, coming up from behind. Toshiro guessed he could've
had worse luck; Kazu was actually a pretty nice guy apart from his perverted
streak, which made him quite infamous among the females.
"We got a female! I wonder how she is, eh?" What a surprising question, Toshiro
mused with a sigh. "With you in our group we'll surely impress her! I wonder
what type of guys she likes…hmm..Raniku-san, eh? Chrysanthemum is a beautiful
flower, I bet she is too. What do you think, Toshiro?"
"I think she must be reliable since she was given the responsibility of keeping
guys like you safe," he drawled, removing Kazu's hand from his shoulder. He
shot him a mock-hurt look, lips twitching as he tried to suppress a grin.
"That was mean Toshiro-kun! But oh well, you'll change your mind once I save
your ass!"
"Right."
Kazu continued to make small-talk, forcing Toshiro to silently admit he missed
talking this openly with someone. While Kazu was polite and nice to everyone,
he wasn't a real…friend. More like a closer classmate. But he didn't complain,
the company was surprisingly enjoyable as they sat through lunch together. He
had his hopes up from this upcoming teamwork. Now, if only Tarou would be
sensible enough to try and get along. He thought he did, but you never know. It
was almost ridiculous how many different reaction Toshiro could get from
people.
"Okay you lazy asses line up!" a familiar voice called as they reached the
appointed meeting place along with the rest of the class.
"Wow, check out that rack! She's hot!" Kazu hissed, eyes as wide as Toshiro's.
Oh he remembered them, those big air bags that'd run over him almost three
years ago, and her cold, blue eyes were exactly like he remembered them.
Blazing, burning, lively. The only thing that had changed was the length of her
hair, now a bit passed her shoulders rather that a bit above. It was almost
scary how well he had remembered her.
"Wipe that drool off and move dammit!" came her annoyed roar, setting several
males into action, including Toshiro, Kazu and a newly joined Tarou. While
everyone else went to their own supervisor – all of them looking extremely
bored apart from Matsumoto Rangiku who just seemed to be pissed at being here –
group 7 made their way towards the intimidating woman.
"So, you wimps are in my group, eh?" she said as they reached her. Toshiro
frowned, ready to retort when she continued. "Well then, let's kick some
Hollows' ass!"
Turning abruptly, she started to walk away. Blinking, Toshiro hurried up to
follow along with his two teammates who had remained silent and slightly taken
aback at her behavior. It surely didn't match her beautiful, delicate looks but
Toshiro had met her once before and was just slightly surprised. The fact that
she didn't seem to recognize him was more surprising to say the least. Who
forgets a kid with white hair who almost turned an old woman into an icicle?
Matsumoto Rangiku, apparently.
The way to whatever training grounds they had been given was spent mostly in
silence, interrupted only by Kazu's attempt and rising a conversation. The only
one interested seemed to be Tarou, much to Kazu's dismay.
"Matsumoto-san," Toshiro finally addressed her, barely earning a hum in
response. Where the hell was her manners?!
"Are we going to get orders, or will we be fighting and handling the situation
on our own?"
She turned her head and flashed him a grin, blue eyes twinkling. "Good question
kiddo; you seem to have understood the importance of following orders. And yes,
I will give you a few but other than that, I'll just be sitting back and enjoy
the show!"
Grunting in reply, he continued to walk in silence. As soon as they arrived,
Matsumoto told them to work together and kill all the Hollows except for one,
which they would try and capture alive. How they were going to do that, Toshiro
had no idea. They had barely received enough training in kidou spells to know
how to restrain a full-grown hollow, no matter how weak.
As they set to work, Matsumoto lived up to her words and sat patiently awaiting
a time where she needed to step in. It went surprisingly sooth, till they came
to the last Hollow. Toshiro had singled it out as the weakest the first thing
he did, and hand asked his teammates to leave it till last. Now, the only thing
left was to bring it down alive. His mind seemed to work on overtime, the rush
of dangers of a real fight urging him on. He went through the latest spells
he'd learned at a frantic speed, not stumbling upon anyone that would be of
help. Avoiding the Hollow's strikes and attacks, the group was at a loss.
With a flash of blonde and black, the Hollow was bound to the ground with kidou
ropes summoned by a spell. Toshiro frowned as he landed on the ground, a few
feet away from Matsumoto where she stood beside the Hollow. The rest of the
group followed suit, standing still as they waited for her to speak.
"Well, seems like things haven't changed," she mused, an amused smile tugging
at her full lips. Toshiro raised a brow in question before she continued. "They
haven't taught you much kidou, that's for sure. Pretty stupid if you ask me."
Drawing her sword, she brought it down through the Hollow's mask and finished
it off. "I just wanted to confirm my suspicions by asking you to retrain this
Hollow. It's not usually something that needs to be done, unless it's a special
case and it shows some kind of abnormality that needs to be examined. Well,
that aside, since you finished this so quickly why don't I teach you that
spell, hm? We don't need to be back for an hour or two anyway."
Kazu and Tarou agreed eagerly and grinned widely, eyes shining with excitement.
Toshiro himself was frowning, puzzled at her attitude. He wasn't about to turn
her offer down though, anything new to learn was welcomed after all.
Explaining the technique and the summoning words, Matsumoto turned her focus to
him as Kazu and Tarou set to work.
"Hey, kiddo," she began, grinning. "I see you took my advice."
"You remember me?" he asked, confused. She laughed and patted his back roughly,
making him wince slightly.
"Of course kiddo! I just didn't want to give you any extra attention. I know
how jealous guys get, especially around geniuses," she explained with a wink,
ruffling his hair. Miffed, he swatted her hand away and growled.
"Thank you, I guess," he muttered, getting ready to try the new spell. "Just
stop calling me kiddo!"
She laughed as she turned her attention towards the other two males, correcting
their mistakes and ignoring his demand. He started wondering what part of her
name's meaning was the most fitting, finding her personality chaotic but her
looks beautiful. Maybe it was too early to tell, but then again, he might not
ever get a chance to talk to her again.
He would make sure to remember this day as clear as the one those few years
ago.
"A half pint with your kinda strength needs to learn how to keep it under
wraps."
-
" You must identify the source…then and only then can you begin the long
journey to mastering your powers. In order to do that, you have no other choice
but to become a  Shinigami "
" Hope you heard me, ' cuz  I hate having to repeat myself… "
" Munchkin…"
***** Pretty Woman *****
Matsumoto Rangiku was many things. She was cheerful and filled with energy; the
best way to describe a 'living' dead, because she was, after all, enjoying her
second life – the afterlife – which comes after death. And not only was she one
of the dead, but also a Shinigami, whose work is to protect the souls who
cannot defend themselves against the horrors still present after death.
While Hitsugaya Toshiro found that part of her being quite questionable at the
moment, it didn't change the fact that it was, indeed, her job. He had to
remind himself that she wasn't always this drunk, and she wasn't always this
annoying or lazy; that she did, at times, convert into the serious Shinigami
she ought to be. All this went through his mind during a quite short amount of
time, and when it had all passed, he had already convinced himself to not
release his ice dragon upon the grinning female before him.
She was, after all, smiling.
He wondered what kind of smile it was. With her, it was hard to see the
difference. Sometimes it was cute, sometimes it was beautiful, sometimes it was
sweet and sometimes it was cruel. It changed, depending on her moods. Just like
her appearance.
Yesterday, as she'd helped him sort the remaining files of the day and chatted
on about nothing in particular, she'd been cute. The way she worries about him
– thinking he might feel lonely or in need of a smile – makes him mentally
picture himself pinching her cheeks, while he savors the warmth her concern
brings him.
A week before that, when she had dragged him out to enjoy the warming rays of
sun in the blooming weather of an early spring, she had been beautiful. As
always, the season was caught in her features and made it all the more living.
And then there was this time, in the beginning of the month, when she had found
him asleep by his desk; exhaustion and stress taking over. She had poked his
nose repeatedly to wake him up, and when he opened his eyes the first thing he
saw her strikingly blue eyes. Then he took note of the strange disappearance of
his unfinished paperwork, before being dragged up from his chair and out of the
office to finally be shoved into his quarters. When she said good night, she'd
been nothing but sweet.
Though when she looked cruel – when her smile was smug and her eyes twinkling –
he would rather run than stay to admire her appearance. Because Captain or not,
you did not escape the wrath nor the clutches of Matsumoto Rangiku.
"Heeey, Capt'n, are you listenin'?"
Finally making a conclusion, Toshiro decided that today, Rangiku was pretty.
***** Play Pretend *****
Today was the day when lovers exchanged gifts, when you received unexpected
presents, when one put love into a letter or home-make chocolate in hopes it
would reach the person accepting it.
Today was Valentine's Day, or, as some prefer, Single Awareness' Day.
The 10th division found itself showered with chocolates, letters, cakes,
hearts, flowers and whatnot, without doubt due to their busty, beautiful
Lieutenant and good-looking, smart Captain. The latter didn't seem to take it
that well, though his subordinate enjoyed the chocolate like it was the finest
food in the world. 'Why put it to waste?' she said.
The white-haired Captain later rephrased the question to 'how?' after watching
her consume box after box after bag with the smooth, milky brown sweets while
his lay untouched. When he commented about how happy she seemed to have
received such great amount of gifts, and questioned her will to look through
them all, her only reply was a bubbly laugh. It was almost as if, she was
laughing at a private joke.
And actually, she was.
She loved chocolate, more than most females, and of course she was flattered to
catch the attention of so many men (and women, she had to add with a giggle).
But, where was his? She had gone through all of the gifts, like he noted, but
yet again…it was missing. Like a mocking absence in a crowd of unimportant
matter where nothing but the emptiness stood out. He didn't have to give it
with love; he didn't have to give it with sweet nonsense in mind. It was
enough, if it was just a show of friendship; an acknowledgement of her position
in his life.
The money resting in her hand was his, borrowed from his stash kept in his
desk's drawer. He had escaped the office to avoid Ukitake and his overwhelming
contribution to the already growing pile of candy occupying the 10th division's
office. She took the chance.
Now she was walking out of the familiar area to enter the world outside the
Shinigamis' compound, strolling down the streets and looking for a certain
store.
'Ah, there!'
It was a simple store, somewhat hidden in the crooks and turns of the streets
and its surrounding buildings. The façade was worn and the little sign outside
stood sloping on the ground; its fading black kanji bravely exposing the
unfitting name.
Anything, Everything, it read. Probably the least visited store in the whole of
Soul Society. It had no food, except for sweets, and sold many strange,
seemingly useless things; from books to fragile looking balls of uneven glass.
It was her favourite place.
"Ah, Rangiku-chan, welcome back," an old woman greeted when she stepped inside,
gazing upon the smiling blonde who inclined her head in reply.
"Obaba," she said, voice mocking as she laughed it off. The old woman smiled;
tsk'ing as she returned to the rocking chair she had been sitting on before the
entrance of her familiar costumer.
"The same as always? Or are you looking for something else this time?" she
asked, leaning back comfortably. Rangiku sighed, trying to count how many times
that question had been asked over the recent years.
"Why must you ask, obaasan?" she mumbled, shaking her head while making her way
further into the store. When she reached the wall with the shelf dedicated to
confectionery of all kinds, Rangiku started humming a soft tune. Taking her
time to eye the different glass bowls filled to the brig with colourful, dull,
nasty and delicious looking candy, she pondered the option of breaking her
little tradition. The money still clutched in her hand, now sweaty, made her
heave another sigh. Of course she wouldn't.
Reaching her Captain's sweets, for they truly were the only kind he might admit
liking, she took a poorly made little bag and started filling it with the
small, almost real-looking, watermelon slices. The old lady had started to hum
with her, making her realize she'd started singing on that tune again.
"That'll be all, obaba." She dropped the coins on the counter, smiling.
"Leaving already, Rangiku?" The rocking chair squeaked as it went back and
forth, slowly, and the older woman didn't bother to get up.
"Yes, I suspect my Captain is going to start searching the pubs soon and drag
my ass back to the office, so I better be there when me comes looking." Rangiku
frowned at the knowing smile grazing the other's lips at her words, but
shrugged it off. She had never told her because of who, or even why, she bought
these sweets. Yet she seemed to know; mocking her with the experience of long
years spent observing life with such kind, clever eyes.
"Have fun," the old female said with a small wave, watching the form of the
blonde retreat from the store's strange sphere.
"Of course! Bye!" she replied, grinning as she opened the door.
"Ran-chan, take care, of yourself."
She lingered in the door opening, before leaving while chuckling lightly. "You
too, obaasan."
-
It was just as she got seated that the door to the pub flew open to reveal a
very annoyed looking Captain. His eyes searched the room and she calmly
accepted a cup of sake from the owner as she waited for him to take notice of
her. It didn't take long.
"Matsumoto! Stop sneaking off to drink all the time!" he growled, now standing
but a feet away from her relaxed form. Sipping on her drink, the corners of her
mouth twitched.
"But Captaaain," she whined lightly, titling her head to meet his beautiful,
cold eyes. "It's Valentine's Day! I should be allowed to take a few drinks!
This day isn't for work you know…"
When she leaned closer to him and lowered her head to gaze up through thick
lashes, making the last part of her sentence seem very suggestive, he backed
down and blushed light red while his eyes widened.
"It doesn't matter what day it is. You are not allowed to drink on duty! I
order you, as you Captain, to come back to the office and finish your
paperwork!" he snapped,; clearly his limit had been tested one too many times
today. She didn't mind, really. He was cute when he'd gotten his fur all
ruffled.
"Aww, spoils sport!" she said with a grin before sighing and continuing in a
chirp, almost mocking, voice to which he snorted. "I'll be right there,
Captain, sir!"
"How much have you drunk?" he asked after she had drowned her glass, making her
giggle while she jumped off of the stool she'd been on.
"Oh, you know me! A good few!" she replied with a laugh, earning confused looks
from the owner polishing the glasses. The young Captain didn't take notice,
because now, his world extended to one and only one annoyance.
"Troublesome."
-
Back in the office, Rangiku suffered through a great deal of paperwork for an
amazingly long amount of time. According to her clock, anyway. So her break was
well deserved and justified she argued when her Captain questioned her newfound
position on the couch.
"I thought you'd gotten rid of all the sweets by now, Matsumoto." She looked up
from her current occupation and raised her brows. Did he really think it was
possible for her to eat all those boxes? More than two thirds had been donated
to her sweet-loving friends, or been reused to be given to random passing
shinigamis. Well, okay, perhaps that had been what he'd meant.
"Oh, this is new; got it this afternoon," she explained, chewing on the little
piece of melon candy. He frowned, seeming to remember something, before
sighing.
"Money is missing again, Matsumoto. Don't tell me you
bought sweets on Valentine's Day for yourself! And with my money, nonetheless!"
She cringed under his gaze, fiddling with the little bag resting in her lap. He
took this as a yes, and growled. "Why would you do that? Dammit woman, didn't
you get enough of it today?"
"But," she pointed out with a grin, "I didn't get anything from you! So, I
bought some for myself on your behalf!"
"But," he replied, reluctantly amused, "that doesn't make it into something I
gave you, considering you took the money without asking, and that I had no
intentions to borrow it to you for such a stupid reason in the first place."
She smiled sadly, and despite herself, she couldn't help but inhale a painful
breath when her heart clenched pitifully. "But, Captain, I can play pretend,
can't I?"
***** Imagination *****
He was standing before her, dressed up in a fancy tuxedo that she'd seen in the
living world. His hair was as unruly and spiky as ever, and the light colours
stood out against the black fabric of his clothes. The red roses tied up in a
neat bouquet  clenched in his hands matched his soft cheeks, and she had to
retrain herself from pinching them.
"These are for you," he said, clearly embarrassed, as he shoved the roses into
her hands.
"Aww, thank you Toshrio-kun," she gushed,  hugging the flowers to her chest.
Surprisingly, it didn't sting. "What's all this for?"
At her question, she looked around and saw a group of musicians, a table for
two, beautiful decorations, delicious looking food, and all of it on the top of
a roof. She remembered telling him how much she loved gazing at the stars, and
she was giddy to note he had remembered. The night was starry and just
breathtakingly beautiful!
"I…" he began, but stopped when she looked back at him to meet his nervous
gaze. "Matsumoto…"
"Yes?" she breathed, suddenly anxious and excited. He dropped his eyes for a
moment, before looking back up with a renewed resolve twinkling in his
startlingly gorgeous orbs of teal.
"Matsumoto…would you, be my wife?"
He was on his knees, she noted dumbly as she stared at him in shock .Opening
and closing her mouth, she barely got to finish her agreement before he
captured her dry lips and moisture them in a way she found most pleasing.
"Matsumoto…" he mumbled. "Matsumoto .."
She could never grow tired of him calling her name, even if it was her last.
"Matsumoto…Matsumoto…Matsumoto ..MATSUMOTO!"
Well, okay, maybe she could. Why wasn't he shutting up and just…continuing that
wonder kissing? Dammit. Captains these days!
"MATSUMOTO RANGIKU!"
Suddenly awake, said woman bolted up from the couch and promptly fell down on
the floor with a loud thud.
"Ow," she winced, rubbing her arm as she sat up. Looking around her, seeing
only the boring office of the 10th division, Rangiku reluctantly admitted that
it had all been a dream. A very good dream, if a bit corny.
"Geez, I've been calling you for ages!" the, literally, man of her dreams
exclaimed. "What were you doing, dreaming of sake?"
"No, something much better," she mumbled, pausing to yawn and stretch. "You'd
be surprised at my imagination, really."
He snorted. "Go on, surprise me."
"Would it suffice with saying it involved you, a tuxedo, roses and a proposal?"
she asked, blinking innocently and suppressing a smirk.
Well, he had asked for it.
***** Grass-Eater *****
Ever since the day Matsumoto spotted the marvelous device in the living world,
eating away at the grass, she had been fascinated. In order to learn more about
them, she'd looked through the commercial papers Orihime got through the mail 
(because the girl is too nice to turn it away when it was the postmen's job to
come all the way to her house to deliver them – yes, way too nice according
to Ichigo
, who also thought she was being stupid for acting upon such a reason, all the
while patting her head and calling her a good girl in a way Matsumoto found
incredibly funny. So funny she tried it on her innocent Captain (and yes, she
actually called him a good 
girl)). After waiting by the letterbox six in the morning for two days,
Matsumoto'd gathered that it had been time to visit one of the stores which
sold these interesting machines. She then knew enough about them to know there
were several different kinds of grass-eaters (as she'd decided to call them,
despite Orihime's quiet corrections and her Captain's irritated objections,
simply because it sounded much more exciting), such as the walking-and-pushing-
it-before-you and then, her favorite, the grass-eating car (she had finally
agreed to stop calling the four wheeled vehicle DCC ("D double C", or, "Death
Cab for Captain" after a very funny incident involving her
Captain, Ichigo's dad's car, herself, sake, melon-flavored kisses and a
slippery steering wheel)).
It took her about one minute from entering the store till she was sitting
happily on the seat of the grass-eating car (much to her Captain's dismay). She
didn't get out of the store for one more hour, when her Captain had finally had
enough of being shoved into a weird machine after another (he still didn't know
how she'd gotten him there, but she says it's okay because he doesn't need to
think when she can do that for him. Somehow, that doesn't sit well with the
10th division's Captain – especially not when she's holding a bottle of sake
close to her enormous chest).
Her Captain sadly stopped her from buying any of the machines, despite her
tries to persuade him (though, she almost got him to agree after abusing his
hormones to the breaking point. Too bad he's a Captain for a reason, and quite
a lot stronger than her. In the end though, she didn't really mind). But
Matsumoto is Matsumoto, and once she returned to Soul Society with a very
satisfied (in one too many ways) Captain, she already had a plan. It wasn't
sure to succeed, and certainly was not flawless, but once she dropped by
Byakuya, it seemed like her worries had been ill placed. It occurred to her
later that she should've worried about herself, but now she quickly dismissed
it as the incident with the grass-eating car was already over.
But still, it had been quite interesting to say the least.
When she'd invited herself over for tea at the huge Kuchiki household 
('forgetting' to tell her Captain, just to be sure he wouldn't suspect
anything), and strolled through the beautiful garden as Renji tried to chase
her away (being the ever loyal Lieutenant, of course he was there to save his
Captain from the dangerous bundle of energy threatening to outshine his Sakura
trees), Matsumoto had absently remarked that the wonder machine she saw in the
living world would cut the grass so evenly and fast
that gardening wouldn't be a problem ever again. She didn't care that she'd
pretty much over-praised it and played on the nobleman's strong like of
beautiful gardens perfected in every detail.
Well, to make a long story short, he bought it. And since she was the only one
who 'knew' how it worked, she was allowed into his garden with the instructions
to make it perfect.
She might've enjoyed riding the grass-eater for the first time a bit too much.
Not even her Captain could think of anything to say when she brought him to the
garden in a desperate search for solutions before the owner gazed upon the
destruction.
"Run," he'd finally advised her. When she pointed out Byakuya would probably
find her straight away, he merely shrugged and dead-panned; "Well, if I were
you, I'd take my chances."
He didn't remain as cool and calm (and disgustingly smug) later that night when
he'd found her hiding in his futon.
See, when Byakuya has had his precious garden maimed he doesn't stop to
consider innocent bystanders as he spots his target. So it was just in self-
defence, her Captain told her after saving her from a painful bankai. She
thanked him anyway.
(And he was suddenly grateful she'd chosen his futon.)
***** Cliché *****
It happened yesterday.
Now, he held her in his arms; she was crying; she was broken.
He felt anger, hot and burning, for the people who had caused this.
Sympathy, for she had been through too much.
Understanding, for he knew her pain.
Regret that it had come to this.
But he felt relief and security, for he knew she was safe in his arms.
He knew he would lick her wounds, dry her tears; kiss away her pain, steady her
feet, stop the trembling and give whatever she needed.
The feelings merged and formed the sharp piece that cut deep in his heart, her
desperate sobs and cold tears burned and harassed his skin and ears, and it
felt like forever till the pain finally dulled enough to allow him to breathe
normally.
To see her like this – openly hurting, shamelessly grieving,
sincerely caring; giving a damn – made him wonder how something as ugly as
heartbreak could be so disgustingly, unbelievable beautiful. He felt so small
with her, so young and inexperienced despite what he himself had gone through,
for it was nothing compared to her. She – Matsumoto Rangiku – who had treated
him like her equal even when he was far from it, when he still was a rude
little brat with too much intelligence to know how to handle the world around
him. It made him wonder, desperately, how he could repay her. Her loyal
friendship, her burning passion and love focused only on him when he needed it
the most… What could he do, but to give as much as he took?
His hold on her tightened; bringing her shaking body closer to his frame. He
didn't acknowledge how uncomfortable his position on the floor was, but let the
woman in his arms hold his attention. The moonlight coming through the windows
cast an ire glow over the room and made her soft cheeks glisten as her tears
ran freely; seemingly unstoppable. She'd been here for over forty minutes now,
but he had no intention of asking her to leave. Her sobs had finally started to
calm down, after all.
"Rangiku," he mumbled, face buried in her soft, golden hair. It smelled of
strawberries, as was her preference in shampoo, and was as silky and wavy as
usual despite her disheveled appearance. A weak, pitiful noise left her in
response to her name; something between a whimper and a sniffle of
embarrassment. He smiled sadly, knowing he probably made her aware of her
situation with that softly whispered name. Continuing carefully, now that he
had her attention, he said soothingly; "He did not feel any pain. He said it
himself, didn't he? There was nothing you could do, Rangiku."
At his words, her hands clenching his yukata tightened their grip and a new
tremor shook her weak body. She knew this, he had a feeling she didn't want him
to tell her, but it was what she needed to hear. He had been in a similar
situation, although less grave compared to this, and he'd kept blaming himself.
It was she, who told him not to, and he hadn't known form the beginning but her
repeated words of comfort had helped more than he'd realized at the time. He
was sure it was the same for her. Eventually, her warm smile would grace those
soft lips once again. He wished for nothing more.
"Rangiku," he repeated sternly as he felt her withdraw from his embrace,
"Although he doesn't deserve your tears, it's alright."
She shook her head, a trembling, weak smile stretching across her tired face.
"It's enough n-now, I c-can't k-keep on c-crying all night, Captain. T-thank
you."
He sighed in annoyance, reaching out to take her hand. She could be such a pain
sometimes. "Idiot," he said, all trace of agitation gone from his voice as he
gazed upon her face while it turned towards the windows; letting the light
caress her skin. Whatever he had planned to say suddenly seemed irrelevant, and
before he could stop himself other words slipped past his lips and made her
meet his stare with surprise.
"You're beautiful."
She smiled a small, soft smile – if not the confident, bright he was used to –
and leaned in close to his face; her breath mingling with his and making his
eyelids droop in pleasure at the familiarity of her action. He titled his head
to the side, gazing through half-lidded eyes at her blue, misty orbs – letting
their noses brush, and felt her lips graze his gently; hovering teasingly. He
sat still, waiting, letting his hand around hers travel up her arm and shoulder
to settle on the side of her delicate neck. He could feel her pulse underneath
his warm palm; amazed at how quickly its speed increased when he flicked his
tongue out to trace her full, glossy lower lip; tasting the melon flavored
sticky mess she smeared on despite his occasional complaints. The natural taste
of her was so much better than the artificial imitation of his favorite snack.
"Toshiro," she whispered breathlessly, almost with no time to finish his name
before he claimed her mouth. The kiss was slow, soft and loving; no matter how
much he wanted to devour her he felt as if she was a porcelain doll entrusted
in his care, and he could not risk even a scratch on her perfect skin. He
needed to coax her back from the world he knew she had locked herself in; he
needed to show her what he loved her for and why. With a smirk, despite the
circumstances, he noted it didn't take much for her to respond with the heat he
recognized. Mind-blowing.
"Thank you," she mumbled against his lips when she broke away from their kiss,
dragging him down to the floor. She repeated it, over and over again, as they
undressed and touched – kissed, caressed, shared – eventually it became like a
broken mantra. He tried, with determination, to shut her up. What the hell was
she thanking him for? Growing more frustrated, as his unsated lust and severely
stressed mind entered the heights of pleasure, his kisses became more
possessive; his touch more rough and demanding. The porcelain doll, so
vulnerable, finally cried for more. His hips moved against hers, he thrust as
deeply into her as he could; desperate for the connection, the closeness and
warmth. And, finally, his name made it through her bruised lips. He captured
it, savoring her taste and embracing her tongue with his own; breathing heavily
through his nose to prolong the kiss as long as possible. Though, soon, air
became an issue once her legs clenched around his waist; her muscles
constricting as an orgasm hit. He slid deeper this time, breaking free form the
kiss to gasp at the sensation of her heat; her walls pulsating around him and
squeezing, begging him for more. He froze, desperately clinging onto the want
to continue; fighting the need to fill her completely at this very moment. He
wanted to pleasure her – sooth the pain – in any way he could. And as she
begged him to move, he gave it his all.
                                      oOo
How very cliché – it was almost ironic.
To gain a life after losing that of an old friend; wasn't that a
very compromising way to view it?
But, Toshiro didn't mind. Because this particular cliché brought peace to his
wife, and the happiness he felt by holding their child for the first time
efficiently wiped out any comments he might have had about Rangiku's delirious
babbling about happy endings and comfort-sex (which, apparently, she wanted
more of asap after painfully squeezing out his son) while she rode out the
effects of her recent delivery and dosage of painkillers.
Now though, he almost feared for his life when that of his son and wife no
longer was in any danger. Keeping his busty blonde off sake and pleasuring
activities these past months (no amount of reassuring had assured him that he
wouldn't hurt the baby during the process, much to Rangiku's dismay) was bound
to backfire – in the form of a very deprived female.
How very cliché.
Although, only in the X-rated romance novels he didn't read.
***** Clueless *****
Toshiro had known her for several years now. He could read her moods, her
actions and habits just as well as she could read his. The annoyance she
provoked did more good than harm, and he had grown very fond of her eccentric
ways. She was as much of an adult as one could be, both in mind and body, but
could act so carefree and childish that he found himself envying her as much as
he scolded her. They interacted well, friendship and loyalty a certainly. It
was as if they'd known each other twice the time they actually had. But he did,
however, suspect he knew her all too well. He knew her better than she could
ever know him.
The fact that she had yet to figure out why the ink froze each time she dropped
by the office with a disgustingly proud looking shinigami from the 8th division
(or 5th or 4th or her favorite, the 11th) was proof enough. No matter how hard
he tried, the vile, pulsating, burning feeling of jealousy just would not
leave. Neither would the clench of his heart, making him discreetly gasp for
air due to the pain, whenever her smile was directed towards another man. She
was so cruel, flaunting them right before his eyes.
And she didn't even know. She didn't even realize.
But he was going to make her see, somehow. He knew she never stayed in a
relationship, he knew how she played. He knew the rules, so maybe someday…he
could join. And beat her at her own game. There was just so much he could take
of these secret, quiet heartbreaks. He wanted to be the one to hold her, kiss
her; love her openly. He gathered he had waited long enough. His deprivation
was beginning to take their tool and the temptation was so great whenever she
embraced him, kissed his cheek or squeezed his hand. There is a small line
between friendship and love after all, and he wanted to deal the nudge that
would push her over…far over that annoying line.
He reasoned he didn't ask for much, so why should she deny him entry to her
game? All he wanted was for his feelings to be returned.
….and maybe he wanted to get that stack of paperwork underneath the couch done
by tomorrow too.
***** Misguided *****
"…and so, I found myself in this huge spinning wheel! It was amazing! I mean,
it was a wheel with these pink and baby blue carriages and couples were all
over each other!" Matsumoto excitedly told a very uninterested looking boy.
Unhampered by her companion's lack of response, she restored to hugging the
very air out of his lungs. "I told you, you should've come! The view was
lovely, one could see the horizon and it was just socool and, Captain, it was
so romantic when the wheel stopped at the highest point for the couples! If
you'd been with me it would've stopped for me too! Why are you always such a
spoilsport Captain? It would've been so fun!"
Now, in any normal situation, a sugar-high rant like that would've been
interrupted by scratchy, sarcastic remarks or sudden outbursts of annoyance.
This was however no normal situation, since the deliverer of said interruptions
had his face pushed far between two soft mounds, securely silencing anything
coming out of his mouth and reducing it to angry and desperate muffles. When
she did let go, it was a slight exaggeration for her to think hell broke loose;
she realized that "hell
froze over" was a better choice of words when the tips of her damp, strawberry-
blonde hair turned frosty. I should've brought an umbrella, she mused with a
pout, fingering locks of her stiff hair and effortlessly ignoring the huffs and
puffs and angry shouts from the cause of her rising discomfort in her light
summer dress. Geez, how can he be cute in that shade of red?
"Aww, Captain, take it easy!" she interrupted somewhere in between 'why the
hell are you always annoying me' and 'what were you trying to do,kill me?!'.
"All that blood up your head…you'll hurt yourself if you're not careful!"
With a small smile and twinkling eyes, she dragged him close and gently
caressed his cheek with her left hand as he stuttered, letting the other trail
down his arm to his waist, where she snuck a finger inside the hem of his
pants. Leaning in close, she whispered hotly in his ear. "Let me guide the
blood elsewhere, Toshiro-kun."
He found her concern for his wellbeing quite pleasurable.
 
***** Cooling Advances (Tattoos part 3) *****
Hitsugaya Toshiro was getting quite desperate. He had tried almost every trick
in the book, and nothing had worked so far. He had been subtle; 'accidentally'
bumping into her friends and dropping 'comments' that might provide him with a
clue. He'd tried to seem like he knew, like he had an idea and wanted a
confirmation on the matter. Which was true, to a degree. He knew she had one,
he knew where, he knew it was supposed to affect him in either a negative or
positive way, but he didn't know what it was and no matter how hard he tried to
tell himself it wasn't a big deal…well, it didn't work. He had to find out.
So, after having spent a week in denial Toshiro decided it was time for a
different approach. He'd have to stop beating around the bush and attack the
cause. So the next time he saw her, he made sure to have picked up enough
courage to pull this through. But he couldn't shake off the feeling this was
going straight to hell, along with his pride. But he had to find out.
"Ah good day Captain! I don't understand how you can't stay locked in this
office when it's such nice weather outside," the person responsible for his
situation exclaimed as she entered the room. He bit his tongue and took a deep
breath; congratulating himself for knowing the woman well enough to be
prepared. Well, at least for the first line in their conversation. What came
after was always a mystery, no matter how hard he tried to find a structure in
her thoughts.
"It's too hot for me, Matsumoto," he said, making a pause. Unaware of the quick
glance she received, Rangiku flipped down on the couch and stretched; waiting
for him to scold her. So what he said next almost made her fall to the ground.
"In fact, it's too hot in here too. I think I need to get cooled down or this
pile of gibberish will never disappear. Care to join me?"
Now, Rangiku didn't think he was entirely aware of how that sounded but her
lips still parted in wonder. It sounded suggestive, yet he looked all work and
no play. Which should make him a dull boy according to the saying, but his
proposal was anything but. She suspected he had ulterior motives, but how could
she refuse him?
"Sure Captain!" she agreed, smiling. Toshiro exhaled a mental sigh of relief
and desperately tried to fight down the blush he knew was blooming on his
cheeks. He had known this was an offer his lazy Lieutenant wouldn't say no to,
but he was also pretty sure she wasn't expecting the cooling down to be what he
had planned. She was probably already deciding what flavour her ice cream would
be, and debating on where the best shade was.
"Let's get going then, I want to get back here as quickly as possible," he said
while standing; trying to sound natural and not stray too far from his
character. Considering what he was going to do, it was kinda pointless but
Matsumoto seemed oblivious.
"Mmm where to Captain?" she asked as they walked down the corridor, making a
left turn and heading towards the open yard leading outside the divisions'
area. Toshiro stiffened and picked up his pace slightly, not quite sure what to
respond.
"You'll see," he finally mumbled, avoiding her suspicious looks and thoughtful
hums. As the sun burned at his black robes he started to wish he'd taken the
long way to their destination since it involved a few more shadows, but all he
could do now was curse under his breath and wipe his forehead every now and
then.
"Hey, Captain," Rangiku said after a while, curious of this strange behaviour.
"Is something wrong?"
Toshiro swallowed and kept his eyes trained on the road before him, quick to
answer; "No, why are you wondering?"
"Well," she drawled, crossing her arms behind her back and casually titling her
head, "remember last time we went somewhere during work because you wanted to?"
Seeing the blush on his cheeks, Rangiku presumed he hadn't forgotten and didn't
wait for a verbal answer before continuing.
"Yes well that's why I'm asking. This only happens when you're up to something
Captain and you're pretty bad at hiding it," she explained, grinning at the
change of expressions on his face.
"Matsumoto, I know I'm going to regret saying this but you think too much
sometimes," he growled while picking up speed again. Rangiku tagged along with
a wide smile and cheerful giggles.
"Hey that's my line Captain!" she cooed, making Toshiro wonder for the
umpteenth time why he went through this just to satisfy his curiosity. Then he
remembered; that damned tattoo.
Finally closing up to the place he was taking the loud mouthed Lieutenant of
his, Toshiro had to tug at her sleeve to get her moving. She had dropped dead
in her tracks when she'd realized where they were going, and walked as if in a
trance as her Captain pulled at her arm.
"Come on Matsumoto, I don't have all day," he growled with a deep blush
creeping up his neck and cheeks. It was incredibly warm and he was getting very
nervous; but annoyance and the need for something cold made him pretty
desperate to hurry up.
"Shinigami's….Health Land?!" Rangiku exclaimed in shock, staring at the
building in the distance with utter disbelief. Toshiro rolled his eyes and
tugged once more at her slack arm; making her stumble a bit as she tried to
keep up.
"Yes Matsumoto," he said in a tight voice, "it's incredibly hot outside and I
am dying for something to cool me down."
She didn't respond, only kept on staring in wonder.
"What, you don't like it?" he drawled, raising a brow. "You can always go back
to the office and finish the paperwork."
Rangiku snapped out of her stunned state and laughed nervously, shaking her
head. "Nonono, of course not! This was a great idea Captain! But…"
For the first time in ages, Matsumoto actually looked anxious and embarrassed
at the same time. Toshiro grinned, having an idea why she seemed to be so
bothered. If the tattoo was on her hip, and they were going to take a bath,
then how was she supposed to hide it? This had been his plan all along and it
was working. She'd taken the bait twice; agreeing to leave the office and
following it through.
As they reached the familiar booth for the cashier, he allowed himself a mental
pat on the back for his brilliance.
"Bath for two please," he said to the woman behind the glass, receiving a sweet
smile before she turned her attention to his Lieutenant.
"I'm sorry, but the kids have to stay with their guardians," she explained the
blonde who, right now, was fidgeting and nervously biting her lip. Toshiro
sighed in annoyance. They'd been here before and he didn't have the energy to
argue. He'd seen Matsumoto in all kinds of revealing outfits; there weren't
much left to surprise him really. And Matsumoto…she must've seen a lot of men
in her time. So what was the problem?
"Yeah, sure," he said, fighting down another blush. "Just take the money and
keep the change."
Blinking, the woman watched as the short white-haired kid dragged his mother –
or perhaps older sister – along. She shrugged and collected the money he'd
slammed onto the table, fanning herself as she cursed the heat. Really, she'd
give anything to get a cooling bath herself.
Inside, Toshiro had already gotten out of his clothes and wrapped a (entirely
too short) towel around his hips and made his way to the colder pools in the
large health department. He'd decided he wasn't desperate enough to glance at
his Lieutenant while she was undressing to find out what she'd put on her hip.
So, while sinking down in the blissfully cooling water he allowed himself a
smug smirk. This particular pool was empty with the exception of him, and soon
Matsumoto, which relieved him some of the humiliation. He didn't want to think
what people would say if someone recognized him.
"Already in Captain?" he heard her say, breaking the silence. He looked up and
immediately looked away; cheeks heated up once again. Nothing but her hair
covered her breasts now and the white towel around her hips was as small as
his. He heard her giggle and felt her enter the water; distracting him. He
looked over to her again and noticed she was already waist-deep in water.
Biting his tongue, he tried to keep from shouting a loud curse in annoyance.
Whatever word had tried to get out he suddenly choked on as something bluish
reflected in the water where her hips were currently swaying. Moving towards
him, Toshiro realized he'd been staring quite intently on her left hip in order
to make out what it was he'd seen just above the towel's edge. He shook his
head and looked up in her amused eyes; alarmed by the smile on her lips.
"So that's what you were after Captain," she said, now right beside him and
leaning in to whisper in his ear.
"Trust me, you don't want to know Captain," she mumbled, tracing his collarbone
with soft fingers. "So just forget about it, no?"
If she'd tried to convince him he didn't want to know, then it had been quite
the opposite. Watching her swim back to the other side of the pool, Toshiro was
very, very determined to find out.
***** Story of my life, she said *****
Family…what's with family? Why is it so important to you all? It's just a bunch
of people, living together, isn't it? I don't see why it's such a big deal.
It's easier without one. You're free, and I, I have always been free. I don't
need a family - I don't need anyone. No one wants me anyway, so why should I
long to be one of them? Those families…they only live together; share a house,
share their lives. I don't want to share mine. I've already died, and I can't
even remember how, so why should I share this second chance with anyone but
myself? I'm free, free to do whatever I want. I don't need anyone, I don't want
anyone. Leave me alone. I'm free.
But–
"When's your birthday?"
"I don't know…"
"Then…let the day we met be your birthday."
–I'm not the only one.
                                      oOo
Is that who I think it is? No, it can't be, can it? He's just a child! I had
a feeling he'd do well. But not that well! Though, he has strong eyes.
Cold.Like my own. Ice.
                                      oOo
The kid's different from last time.
I wouldn't have guessed he'd be this distant. So professional, so uptight. It's
all no-nonsense. He needs to loosen up, that boy. He's nothing like I
remembered him.
Noisy; obnoxiously cocky. A short, unkempt child of the nicer part of the
slums.
I guess with the Captain's cloak on, he needs – have to be – someone else.
He's alone.
                                      oOo
Gin.
Sometimes, I just wish I wouldn't care. I thought I was free. I thought he'd
left me enough times, that I was independent. I never realized that I never
expected him to leave for good.
I just wish I wouldn't care.
Then, I would've said I'm lucky, because my Captain was betrayed – by family.
By someone he'd shared his life, his house with. But I, I was supposed to be
the free one.
"Idiot."
"Who is?"
I am.
                                      oOo
Family…what's with family?
I don't know. I thought I never had one, and perhaps I didn't, because I lost
it before I realized it had been there. I don't know how precious it is, or
why. There was never someone who sang lullabies, who rocked me to sleep, who
lend me their shoulder to cry on, who told me everything would be alright and
who gave it all to protect me from the harsh world. I only learned how to
survive on my own, to sleep alone, to fight to protect myself and to wipe my
own tears.
I only know of lovers, of friends and enemies.
"I love you, Rangiku."
You grew up so fast, Captain.
 
***** In Secret *****
Chapter Summary
     Inspired and based on the song "Competition" by Dragonette. Warnings
     for infidelity.
"Ah, that's never going to work," he says frowning. She absently wonders if the
girl knows where he is tonight. She doubts it. And the kid calls herself his
girlfriend! She gives a dazzling smile. "Oh, it will Capt'n!"
Well, she had never imaged he would be the two-timer kind of man, so she
suppose she can't blame the girl for trusting him so completely. He sighs.
"It's physically impossible woman!"
But , she muses, he isn't really cheating. He's just too nice for his own good,
unable to deny his childhood friend what she wants. And she, herself? – well,
she wasn't that concerned about it.
"You'd be surprised at how well I bend, Shiro-chan." Her coy grin lures him
closer. It's her bed he returns to, and it's her he welcomes everywhere; be it
in his girlfriend's room or the office. "Oh…" His expression is one of
disbelief and wonder, while his blood quickly travels south.
But really, she thinks, it's getting ridiculous. Trips to all her favorite
restaurants, new jewelry, his hand taking hold of hers every now and then
inpublic. She knows it's just a matter of time before the secret is out, and
her Captain will suffer worse than he would if he'd just broken up with his
childhood friend the moment he kissed his lieutenant. And by now, his hands are
shaking ever so slightly.
"You are going to be the death of me, Matsumoto Rangiku."
Glowing in feminine pride, she giggles. "Breathe sweetie, breathe." She
remembers vaguely wanting to tell his girlfriend what he's up to. She really
doesn't like this secrecy. He growls, predatory. "Shut up."
She wants to be fair competition with his girl, even if this secret mistress
thing is very exciting, and forbidden. "Easy love, or we'll fall off." Her
hands are on him, trying to keep him steady. She knows that she's never
particularly cared if the men she's bedded have had someone at home
waiting. The hands stray from their original task. But she finds herself
wishing her Captain would realize what he's doing. Letting out a delighted
purr, he loses control. It doesn't suit him.
She forgets why she should care. She sees, feels, only him. She doesn't even
notice that the seconds, minutes, have passed by. He stretches, satisfied. "I
had never imagined that would work." She smiles lazily, winking. "Oh, but I can
work magic with my body, Captain!" And she wonders when the secret will be
out. He blushes.
They were being pretty loud, after all.
***** Was it Happily Ever After? *****
Chapter Summary
     Inspired/based off of the song "Kiss the Kids" by Tanya Stephens.
     Lovely song.
     (This is an AU in which Azien never happened).
When she had gone to bed last night, she had not known what was coming. Even
now, she couldn't remember picking up any signs that could've prepared her. As
it was, she had woken up to an empty bed with only a note left as a trace of
his presence by her side.
Their children – sweet, innocent beings – would cry. They'd shed the tears she
would not. She was so angry, she was livid. He had lied to her, left her alone
with no one to rely on. It was early in the morning, and several hours before
her children would stir. She needed to get away; she needed to collect the
strength she knew she would need to deal with this.
She only knew of one place to go.
                                      oOo
She had drunk herself to unconsciousness again. He sighed, wondering what her
good-for-nothing husband had done now to make her crash in the office. Since
her first child, she had only taken to saké when she'd been in a fight or when
it was a special day. Which, he noted, today was not.
"Oi, wake up! The couch isn't a—" he paused, hand on her shoulder about to
shake her awake, and stared at her face. Her eyes were half-closed, brimmed
with tears, and her skin almost sickly pale. He felt her shake under his touch.
"O-oi, Matsumoto!" he stuttered, falling down to his knees in order to come
closer. "What happened?"
As if his words, his voice, had broken a dam, a pitiful wail passed her lips.
He smelled no alcohol as she flung herself at him, arm going around his neck
and face pressed against his shoulder to hide the anguish barely concealed. Her
tears flowed free, her sobs broken and desperate. He could only stare blankly
ahead, completely dumbfounded. In all the years, the decades, he had known
her…never had she cried like this. Never had her eyes held such pain clear in
sight.
"Matsumoto?" he began, carefully, placing his hands on her back. Her grip of
him tightened.
"He left! How could he?! I don't understand, Toshiro!" she wailed, her voice
muffled by his shoulder. "What kind of man is he, when he leaves his family? He
lied to me, Toshiro! He said he wouldn't leave again!"
Disbelief marred his face for a second before his expression darkened into
burning fury as he realized what she'd said. He always knew that man would do
more harm than good, but he had never dared to say so. How could he, when
biased due to feelings a Captain should not have for his Lieutenant? Now he
wished he had done so, a long time ago, because perhaps that would've made a
difference. Right now though, the crying woman in his arms needed more
attention than his stupid self.
"Rangiku," he said in a hushed, soothing tone. "It's alright. I'm here for
you." He slowly stood, taking her with him, and sat himself down on the couch;
arranging her to sit in his lap. When her cries only rose in volume, he began
to rock back and forth in a calming motion while whispering words of comfort in
her ear. He lost track of time, but soon, her wails reduced to broken sobs and
the death grip she had of his neck loosened. He closed his eyes and allowed
himself to nuzzle her soft, thick hair as she struggled to take long, deep
breaths in order to calm down.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, pushing away from him enough to meet his gaze.
Shaking his head, he replied, "It's not your fault."
Nodding, she let her head rest against his shoulder once again. One of her
hands dropped from his neck and he spotted a badly wrinkled piece of paper in
her balled fist. She didn't protest when he reached to get it, and when he
paused for her permission she nodded. He unfolded the note with one hand,
frowning in concentration. It finally opened.
He read;
"Baby, I'm gone, so, kiss the kids for me, would you? Get through this for me.
Apologize, and tell a couple of lies for me baby.
Tell them daddy said hi.
Gin."
He quickly crumpled it again, biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. How
could this man consciously be alive, when his – breathtakingly beautiful – wife
cried in her Captain's arms? When his children had yet to wake? Hugging her
close, he suppressed a growl. She needed support now, and he would give it. He
no longer had the appearance of a boy, he had finally grown into a man, and he
found himself grateful of the strength in his longer limbs as he stood with his
Lieutenant in his arms.
"I'll take you home," he mumbled. "I'll help you deal with this, Rangiku."
Her grip of him tightened and she nodded silently, still fighting the broken
sobs shaking her body.
"Thank you, Toshiro."
***** Cute Captains *****
If it wasn't for the saké, and the amusing company this woman made, Shunsui
would've wandered off long ago. But there was something charming and genuinely
beautiful about this young female that sat with him. Well, that and the fact
that she held her liquor as well as he did, and he was sure he'd had quite a
few more centuries practice than her.
But, he mused as he took another sip of alcohol, she is so loud.
"And then, you know, he told me I couldn't lie on the couch! Why is it even in
the office if you're not allowed to use it, huh? The kid seriously needs to
loosen up!" Matsumoto Rangiku whined, waving the bottle of sake in her hand
around to get her point across, whatever that was. As she paused to take a deep
gulp of liquor, Shunsui took the chance to speak up. She hadn't given him an
opportunity to say a word after he asked about her new Captain, one child
prodigy Hitsugaya Toshiro.
"You will have to excuse him, Rangiku-chan," he said with a smile. "It's not
easy to be a Captain at his age!"
He wished he hadn't said anything, because her pout was deviously taunting in
its drunken, innocently childish appearance. Her lips were full – glossy and
inviting – and the pink tint of her cheeks, the messy state of her medium-
length, wavy, blonde hair made quite a sight. He may be several centuries older
than her, and one of the most powerful Captains, but in the end, he mused, he's
just a man.
He had no doubt that in all her joyful and friendly self, she was quite the
heartbreaker.
"That may be so," she mused aloud, tapping a finger against her lower lip.
"But, you know, it's not easy to be a female lieutenant either, but you don't
see me making other's life miserable!"
He chose not to comment on that, knowing too well of what rumors went around
about her. She seemed oblivious to the fact that unlike the world outside,
fooling around with the wrong kind of men had its consequences.
"Well anyway," she continued, "I did try to spike his tea today you know."
"Oh?" He wasn't that surprised.
"But," she put the bottle of sake down, running her finger along the edge of
the opening, "he's just too cute, y'know. Those big eyes and that white hair!
Completely adorable, I tell you! Especially when I hug him, yeah, 'coz then he
goes all red!"
Ah, he thought, if only my Lieutenant would be like that.
He poured another glass of saké for good measure, before going back to admire
the way her chest heaved as she rambled on.
What? He's a healthy male, and he was going to have a talk with the new Captain
of the 10th division about taking advantage of females' natural soft side for
cute things. He did not believe the kid was completely innocent in getting
Matsumoto Rangiku to hug him close to those soft mounds.
He was quite surprised to find he was wrong, and he felt the slightest twinge
of guilt for having had that conversation with the young Captain who was, he
had to admit, quite cute.
Oh well, life goes on.
***** Tattoo - Revealed (Tattoos part 4) *****
Chapter Summary
     Last of the Tattoos drabbles.
This wasn't really what he'd expected. Nothing would've really prepared him for
the turn of events that landed him in this situation, except for perhaps the
knowledge he had about the reason he was here in the first place (really, he
should know by now anything can happen when she'sinvolved). He reached out,
tracing his finger along smooth, silky skin as his eyes followed his digit. He
found he didn't have much to say, but as he looked up to meet her eyes, he
forced a few jumbled words out of his mouth; expression still one of
bewilderment.
"I, uh, that is…um…w-why?"
                            o-Five Hours Earlier-o
"It was really nice of you to take me here, Captain!" Matsumoto Rangiku chirped
happily as she walked down the road beside a very grumpy looking Captain. After
all he'd gone through, after all his troubles, he still hadn't found out what
that damned tattoo was! Not even after taking her to
Shinigami's freaking Health Land! He was still blushing after what had
transpired in there, even if it had been just like any other teasing by his
Lieutenant. Only this time, they had been clad in nothing but towels.
"We should do this more often, don't you think?" she continued, flinging her
still damp hair behind her while smiling. He growled, very displeased and about
as stoic as a cat whose fur had been rubbed the wrong way.
The seething summer day was no longer unbearable, with the chilly breezes
cutting through the hot air easily. He huffed; disgruntled to know his temper
could be made so obvious.
"Aw, don't be like that Captain -- I know, let's have some ice-cream!" At her
bright idea, her smile seemed to double in its intensity. He rolled his eyes,
knowing full well she was doing her best to keep him from trying anything else
in order to find out her little secret. However, right now, he couldn't bring
himself to care. He found he was pretty tired; too angry, embarrassed and
disappointed to leave any energy to much else. He let himself be dragged away
by his over-energetic Lieutenant.
He decided to deal with her tattoo after work today, and when he came to this
conclusion, he was already by the ice-cream stand and paying for whatever it
was the annoying woman had ordered.
                             o-Five Hours Later-o
She was asleep on the couch again. He had finished everything for today, and
currently he was putting away documents and clearing his desk. He did so in
silence, glancing over to the couch every now and then. She had worked well
today. 'Well' by her standards, anyway. He snorted, closing the upper drawer of
his desk with a soft thud. Straightening, he stood still for a while, looking
around the office to see if there was something he'd forgotten. All lights but
one was out, his desk was empty, hers was too, all teacups were cleared away
and his chair was pushed in neatly by his desk. Nodding in approval, he made
his way over to the couch and its occupant. His gaze softened at the sight that
greeted him, and his shoulders lost some of their tension. He couldn't
understand how she could look so very comfortable in a hard piece of furniture
like that, in an office nonetheless. Sighing, he carefully sat down, twisting
his upper body slightly to gain a better view of her. He knew he should wake
her, but like so many other nights like these, he chose to let her sleep for
just a few more minutes, if only to inspect her face without having to worry
about masking his expression. However, this time, he found his gaze wandering
downward – past her straight, feminine nose, her full lips, sharp chin, elegant
neck, outrageous breasts and flat stomach; landing on curvy hips. His eyebrow
twitched as he fought not to acknowledge the blush creeping up his neck to
color his cheeks.
"I can't!" he hissed, trying to shove the idea that had emerged far into the
back of his mind. Glaring at her hip for a few more seconds, he finally looked
away to huff in annoyance; blush deepening as he found he was unable to block
the thoughts going through his mind.
"It's not that important," he mumbled to himself, eyes narrowed and focused on
a point beyond the door of the office. "She's asleep; it would be to take
advantage. I can't."
But, a voice whispered, if she's asleep, how is she to know what you do?
"No!" he hissed, biting his lip hard to calm down. Disturbed by his own
thoughts, he was also confused by his reactions today. What had changed? Why
couldn't he look at her, without that weird, embarrassed feeling unsettling his
whole being? And why, why was it so important to know what this tattoo was?
What could possibly it possibly be to cause such problems for him? He wanted to
know, he wanted to know so badly.
Turning back to face the still sleeping woman, his eyes narrowed in
determination. She would never find out, he would never tell. He would look for
the tattoo, he would do nothing else. Shaking hands reached for her uniform,
but paused as he tried to make them steady. Swallowing, he continued and
carefully pulled at her obi. She groaned, and he almost jumped up from the
couch. When she showed no signs of waking just yet, he resumed; heart beating
loudly. With little fuss, he had managed to untie the knot and was already
sliding a finger inside the hem of the uniform's fabric; slowly, carefully
sliding it down her hip. Revealing flawless skin inch by inch, he felt himself
break into cold-sweat. This was so wrong. It was horrible; so why was he
feeling…excited? He was disgusting.
The slightest hint of blue became visible just as he was about to stop, and the
want, the need, to know took over. He continued to slide the fabric down,
leaning in closer to study the design which slowly made itself
visible. Scales, he noted. Blue, glittering, icy scales.
Is it—?
He almost screamed in surprise when a hand suddenly gripped his; halting any
further progress. Heart beating so hard he was sure it was trying to jump out
of his ribcage; he turned his head to meet blue eyes with his own teal; wide in
surprise. The constant blush on his cheeks went from light pink to dark red as
he realized she was fully awake, and he fought the urge to look away in
shame. She wasn't supposed to wake.
Her husky, sleepy voice broke the silence. "Captain, whatever are you doing,
taking advantage of a woman in her sleep like that?"
He stared, unable to speak, and she slowly sat up with a wry smile twisting her
lips. Her hand squeezed his and she titled her head, observing him. He
swallowed, trying to moisture his dry throat; wondering if a few flash steps
would take him sufficiently far away from this situation.
"Oh, honestly, Captain!" she exclaimed after a few seconds of silence, and he
feared she'd read his mind, but then she continued; her cheeks lightly tinted
pink and fascinating him like nothing else. "You must be really desperate to
know, huh?"
He would've nodded, if he'd really paid attention, but he was too busy trying
to understand what she was doing. She let go of his hand, sitting up and
scooting further up the couch. She paused to capture his eyes, and nervously
cleared her throat.
"First off, Captain, I was drunk. Very drunk. And I – well, I kinda like it,
okay? The tattoo, I mean. Well, uh, I like being drunk too y'know, but, ah,
well, you know what I mean," she babbled, giggling and scratching her head
sheepishly. When he still could not respond, she sighed and continued. "So, I'm
going to show it to you now, okay? But you have to promise to not…I don't
know…freak out, okay?"
That didn't sound very good, he mused, but he made no comment and only nodded
his head; far beyond curious. He was obsessed. It was the only explanation.
"Alright," she said a bit too happily, and his eyes immediately fell from her
face to stare at the patch of skin revealed already. Her hands went down to
grab the fabric, and she pulled it down faster than he had attempted to, and as
she struggled with it she twisted her lower body ever so slightly to make her
bared hip more visible. The light shifted, and the inked image on her skin
seemed to come to life for a second. He stared, mouth open in amazement.
Hyōrinmaru!
He could hardly believe his eyes. The dragon was portrayed as a sleek, graceful
beast; his scales shimmering in the weak light of a lone lantern. It curved
around her hip, its body continuing down in smooth movements, probably gracing
her thigh as well. Had he not been so fascinated by the way the dragon's scales
complimented her skin so well, he might not have noticed the carefully hidden
kanji embedded in the dragon's skin.
Hitsugaya Toshiro.
He traced it, mouthing it in utter astonishment. The notion of him touching her
skin did not register as he looked up to meet her eyes.
"I, uh, that is…um…w-why?"
She smiled shyly, trying to cover up her embarrassment with the stretching of
her lips and a nervous giggle. "Oh, spur of the moment perhaps?"
He frowned, the shock and embarrassment ebbing away. "Please, don't lie to me
Matsumoto."
She sighed, closing her eyes for a second, before meeting his gaze with a more
genuine smile. "It was so long ago a man made me stutter and blush. So long
ago, that I can't even remember." He frowned as she paused, waiting for her to
continue; curious. "But here I am, silly me, with a man too inexperienced to
catch on. I need to spell it out. Ah, such embarrassment you cause me Captain!"
Her laugh was lighter this time, heartfelt, and he found himself blinking in
slight surprise. Before he could say a word, she resumed. "Why do you think a
Lieutenant would tattoo their Captain's zanpaktou on her hip, along with his
name? Why do you think she would hide it, and blush when it's mentioned?"
Clearing his throat, he fought in vain to keep his blush at bay. He felt
stupid, and even more so when he opened his mouth to confirm it; it was too
obvious, but he couldn't help it.
"Do you love me?"
She smiled, leaned in, and captured his dry lips; moistening them with a wet
kiss.
He took that as a yes.
***** Black Lace *****
She was lying in his bed, again. Breathing softly, making so little noise he
would've thought no air reached her lungs, if not for the steady rise and fall
of her impressive bust. Sometime during the night, she'd pushed down the sheets
to her bare feet, and her nightgown had ridden all the way up to her stomach
through all the twisting and turning she'd done. It had been quite the sight to
come home to, and he had gladly lied down by her side; any trace of sleepiness
gone as he enjoyed the woman before him. Letting his hand slip down her stomach
to finger the hem of her panties, he traced the delicate flowers with an
expression of interest, if not a slight bit of wonder. The fine threads were
woven in elegant curves, connecting in a teasing net of even thinner strands
that barely covered the soft skin underneath. He sighed, noticing as his eyes
followed the tip of his fingers that the decorative flowers covered what he
really wanted to see. It seemed this was designed to tantalize, and he marveled
at the reaction it caused in him.
He'd seen her naked countless times, so why did he always fail to remember how
beautiful she was just when he needed it? Her revealing outfits and challenging
lingerie should leave little to imagination. But he knew, always, that fantasy
was no match for reality. His hands itched to rip the fragile net of threads
apart; fingers twitching against her hip when he tried to fight the urge. As he
was trying to decide if he should satisfy the growing need for her, or leave
her undisturbed in her sleep and join in, the woman before him made the
decision for him. Stormy, blue eyes fluttered open; focusing on his face
immediately, as if she on instinct knew where he was. Sighing, he leaned up to
place a soft kiss on her forehead in apology, smiling slightly when strands of
her messy hair tickled his lips.
"Like what you see?" she mumbled, voice husky from sleep, as she reached up to
wrap her elegant arms around his neck. Nose to nose, he stared into her eyes,
detecting the mischievous glint in them despite the dim light of a full moon.
"Yes, very much so, Rangiku," he replied with a grin, voice as quiet as hers,
spoken in a lazy drawl. She wriggled her nose against his, a breathy giggle
caressing his skin, before pulling him down to lie beside her instead of above.
He didn't mind, rolling to the side with only a slight grunt at the change of
position as he pulled the covers over them. Running his hand through her thick,
blonde locks, he sighed in contentment; letting his short nails scrape her
scull to pull those cute noises of pleasure from her plump lips. Her eyes
slowly closed when he continued his slow caresses, and she snuggled closer to
his warmth with an amused hum.
"Why didn't you do anything? They're your favorite, aren't they?" she said,
soft voice slightly mumbled against his skin as she tucked her head under his
chin. Raising a brow in confusion, he was about to ask what she was talking
about when she answered. "My panties, sweetie, my panties."
Chuckling, he titled his head to place a kiss on top of her head. "You're
impossible. Don't tell me that was intentional!"
"And if it was?"
"Then you're not only impossible, but a damn tease as well."
"I love you too, honey."
***** Rash *****
It itched, but he stubbornly refrained from scratching it, knowing that the
temporary pleasure a good scratching would bring was nothing but just that;
temporary. So he continued to scribble away letters and numbers on the
increasingly less blank paper before him, ignoring his discomfort with
practiced ease. He'd had worse than tonight, so it wasn't surprising that he
managed to push away any thought of the intense itching out of his mind in
favor of work, hoping it would go away eventually. From previous experience he
knew it wouldn't, but that didn't keep him from trying anyway in case this time
would be any different.
But he refused to acknowledge the true longing he felt for some kind of
release, and if it frustrated him that the location of the rash was not
anywhere he could scratch, should his resolve break, he didn't let it show.
Although, when a crack marred that stoic façade, it was almost always (he added
the 'almost', because he didn't like the idea of her being the only one with
that kind of power) his lieutenant's fault and she never failed to notice.
Blaming his foul mood on an itch, which was as much of the truth he would
admit, he never told her where it was once she offered to scratch it. He was
tempted to say she would never find it, but he really didn't mind the way she
never stopped looking for it despite all his hissing and blushing.
Her long, manicured nails were bliss on his body, and as the itchy incidents
piled up, he found himself wondering how she could touch his heart with skin,
muscle, fat and bones between, for the itchy discomfort in his chest where the
rash was located lessened each time her childish giggles and cheery voice
announced she would never give up.
***** Equations *****
Matsumoto Rangiku was a strong woman. She knew who she was, what she could and
could not do, how to deal with messes she'd made and what to make of the many
strange things happening around her on a daily basis. She was no stranger to
sin, and she knew very well how to enjoy herself and what to do in order to
obtain what she wanted. However, what she wasn't familiar with was to deny
herself something she knew with every fiber of her being that she not only
needed, but craved. In fact, she was pretty much at a loss of what to do;
confusing herself with the many contradicting actions she made as she tried to
decide what would be for the best. Should she take it, like she wanted to, or
leave it, like she probably should do? She had never really asked herself this
question, because what she wanted had always gone hand in hand with either what
should be, or what she liked to call "other ways out".
Doing a damage control after each decision that lead to some form of mess, she
had always been able to straighten things out. This time, however, she had
lived for too long and known too much to not realize that this was not a win-
win situation, despite her positive personality. There was such a slim chance
to get what she wanted, and if she didn't succeed, something irreplaceable
would be lost. Knowing this, it should've been easy to come to the conclusion
that she should resist, but she was no masochist and absolutely not a quitter.
It was in her nature to give it her all, and, if possible, avoid any kind of
ache that would cause her discomfort for a longer period of time. You could say
her heart was in conflict with her head, and she didn't like it one bit. She
wondered if she was doomed to this for the rest of her existence, and found
herself realizing that maybe, there could be a compromise. To not take it all,
just enough to keep herself happy through the day, and dull whatever regrets
she might have with the smooth alcohol beverage that never failed to keep her
company even in the darkest hour. The problem with that was that what she
wanted wasn't a place in the Academy this time, nor good grades or the position
as a Lieutenant. It wasn't even about the finest chocolate, the most expensive
sake, or the most elegant clothes and jewelry. It was about a person, a male –
but that wasn't enough, for he was no brawly man of the slums but the one she
would gladly give her life to protect. She knew he was confused as it was, with
her indecision of what to make of her own feelings, and it bothered her that
the otherwise clueless little prodigy Captain (who weren't as little anymore,
she had to admit) could pick up on her inner turmoil when he had proved many
times to lack certain understanding of the emotional working of his
surroundings. She had to add him to the complicated equation of love, for more
reasons than him being the culprit who caused the whole mess in the first
place.
So, 2X plus XY equals what? I'm missing the part needed for the solution.
Well, to say that Matsumoto Rangiku had spent way too much time thinking about
this would be an underestimation. Her head spun in never-ending circles,
thoughts jumbled and slightly desperate as she tried to keep her heart out of
the reasoning. Emotions never followed logic after all, and this fact might be
one of the things that could help her come to a well needed conclusion. The
chances were that she would have to deny herself this one thing, this one
person, if only for the sake of his own well being. It wasn't like she didn't
want their friendship after all; she had been happy up until recently, hadn't
she? Maybe, if she stopped thinking about it, then the feelings would go if not
unfelt, then at least unnamed.
Which would be…2X minus XY, and that would be?
It's still incomplete.
This was much too complicated, and she wanted to scream this statement for the
world to know. Too bad she was in the office, carrying a tray with scalding hot
tea that she did not want to drop on herself in a fit of rage. Groaning and
feeling her eyebrow twitch, she arrived at the culprit XY's desk looking
forlorn and thoroughly spent. It earned her a sharp, raised, white brow
followed by a question delivered in a voice full of concern. It made her sigh
even more defeated.
"Captain, never fall in love. It's a pain in the ass."
That he looked genuinely surprised, curious, puzzled and embarrassed all in one
didn't faze her as much as it probably should. She couldn't remember giving him
the impression of being incapable of falling in love, and if he jumped to
conclusions then it was not her fault. Deciding to spare him any unnecessary
pondering, she blurted out the next thing on her mind. "By the way, you're good
with maths, right Captain?"
Blinking, he eyed her with an obvious glint of worry in his teal eyes, making
her mood a lot brighter. Before he could ask if the sake had finally erased any
trace of brain cells she had left and turned her mental, she quickly put the
cup of tea down in front of him and smiled. "You see, I remember Inoue and
Ichigo's homework and it seemed very complicated for kids like them. Do they
really teach that stuff in school? I feel bad for them. Don't you, Captain?"
He shook his head slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and index
finger. "No, I don't, Matsumoto. I think that it is good. They need it in their
world, a lot more so than we do here. You are correct to assume that I know
mathematics though, which is only proper, being a Captain. And it concerns
Lieutenants as well, I might add."
Giggling, she walked over to claim the couch, enjoying the familiarity of the
conversation. "Aah, but I know my numbers Captain! I'm just really bad when
they're mixed with letters."
He flashed a rare grin, though the twitch in his cheek told he was torn between
amusement at her behavior and annoyance at her ignorance. "Algebra is actually
pretty easy, at least the basics of it. You should try and study it; it
certainly wouldn't hurt with a bit more logic and knowledge in that empty head
of yours," he said, the hesitant grin morphing into a smirk when she started to
laugh; shaking her head at his words. "Aw, Captain, that was a low blow!" she
said, pausing her chuckling to observe him where he sat, now big enough to not
drown behind the huge desk and tall chair. With a mischievous grin, she
continued; voice smooth and dripping with a sweet and suggestive tone. "But if
you insist I study it, then I must insist on you doing the teaching, Captain.
As repayment, I could teach you some things that are not found in the books and
scrolls you possess."
She tried to hide the wide grin of satisfaction from showing, but when he
flushed red she couldn't help but giggle in delight. Struggling to regain his
posture, the white haired Captain quickly looked away and cleared his throat.
She really wasn't prepared for his next words, and it was only because of the
almost painful leap of her heart that she was unable to utter a gasp.
"If you are to study it, then it would only make sense for me to teach you. We
do not have time or money to spare for hiring someone else, and I doubt there
is anyone with enough patience to deal with you. I've worked with you for
several years and know how to deal with it, so it would be the best choice."
His cheeks were a light pink by now, and his eyes flickered around the room
nervously. She took a deep breath, calming down a foolish, racing heart as her
mind provided her with denial. Come now, he means nothing by it. Assuming he
only had her education in interest, she was slightly amused once she realized
he'd taken her obviously taunting words seriously. He seemed to misunderstand
her amused expression once his eyes finally landed on her and the pink on his
cheeks darkened a few shades. Raising a brow, she was about to ask what he was
thinking but he quickly cut her off, stuttering and averting his gaze once
again.
"I-I won't need any…repayment though, s-so, yeah. B-but, I…" he began, trailing
off to clear his throat. "I wouldn't mind."
She stared, eyes wide. A quick glance her way and he seemed to panic.
Naturally, his previous nervous manner turned frustrated, because that was just
how he best handled embarrassing situations. She knew this all too well, and
even now, it brought a smile to her slack lips. "M-matsumoto! I don't mean it
like that! Knowledge is not something to be turned down, and if you have
anything useful to share then I won't mind! I didn't mean it like that! It's
got nothing to do with that!"
Through his surprisingly short rant, she had collected enough stray, confused
thoughts and feelings to regain her composure, but she was still at a loss of
what to make of the situation. Deciding to do what she did best, she titled her
head and smirked. "And what, exactly, do you mean by 'that', Captain?"
He growled, meeting her gaze with a frustrated glare that inspired none of the
fear he wished for. Continuing to observe him, she decided none of them was in
control of this strange conversation and it would be safest to leave it behind,
if only to hide what she desperately wanted to tell him.
"Hey, Captain, when do we start?" she asked, breaking the uncomfortable
silence. He sighed, cheeks still red and brows still drawn together in a frown
as he replied. "Whenever you want, Matsumoto. But once we decide a time, you
will have to promise to be there. No skipping, understood?"
She nodded, earning herself a suspicious glare, and smiled. Perhaps this was a
chance to find the missing part of her frustrating equations, or to, at least,
stimulate her increasingly weakening logic-based thinking. "I wouldn't dream of
it, Captain! I'll be counting on you to get that mess to make sense!"
His only reply was a snort before he resumed his work, but the sad part was
that she really did.
I hope you won't let me down, Captain.
***** Delicious Collusions *****
When temptation stares you in the eye, what do you do?
Matsumoto Rangiku believes that you should jump at it, because, honestly, you
only live twice, right?
Hitsugaya Toshiro believes that you should either turn away and put as much
distance between yourself and whatever it is that's tempting you, or if there
is no place to run, just close your eyes to rid yourself of the sight, because
there is this thing called control. You shouldn't allow anything to take it
away from you.
Inevitably, these different opinions would cause quite a collision if put in
the same situation. This was proved once the young Captain found himself
struggling with unknown feelings only his busty Lieutenant provoked, and the
very same Lieutenant found she had fallen for the increasingly growing and
maturing teenaged Captain.
                                      oOo
Doomed to spend each day in her presence, Toshiro could not deny the fact that
there was something about her that seemed to draw his attention and interest.
He could no longer blame her tendency to irritate him, not after finding that
there was something more to it than mere annoyance. The frustration she made
him feel was not the frustration he experienced with others, and that included
many other emotions as well. Many of them made little sense, like the woman
herself, and some brought him such embarrassment and horror that he dared not
ponder on it for too long. If it had stayed at that, then he would probably be
able to deal with it, but it seemed fate liked dealing him the worst cards in
the deck, because whenever she smiled the heat in his chest grew stronger, and
every time she passed out drunk the ache in every fiber of his being grew more
painful. Whatever she had done to make his emotions so disorientated, it was
slowly but surely expanding to further influence his body. His reiatsu seemed
to physically pull him closer to her person, while his hands
literally itched to touch whatever he could get away with. There really was no
question of what to do, once he realized it all got even worse when she was
close by and stared at him with those captivating eyes. Look away, break the
gaze, and run.
                                      oOo
For Rangiku it was, quite obviously, different. She would not use a negative
word as "doomed" to describe the fact that they held each other company some
time during each day a week. Even if it was confusing, even if she was
uncertain and it caused her discomfort, she could not find it in herself to
dislike any minute she was with the strange young man who had somehow gained
such an important place in her heart. It took her a while to decide that it was
nothing but happiness to be around the one she loved, because there was so many
who were unable to do so. Yet she was not satisfied, and she would not let her
chance to win his interest slip through her fingers when she was blessed with
his presence by her side so frequently. So when he ran, she followed with a
determination he would admire if he'd take notice. She refused to watch another
back walk away from her, thus chased him until a corner would appear, and she'd
have him trapped.
                                      oOo
Toshiro realized his pathetic attempt to flee was in vain when he found himself
anticipating being found by her as he hid in some dark corridor of the
divisions. The excuse of running errands and doing some extra work only took
him that far, and it was with slight disgust he admitted that his actions had
been utterly childish and painfully obvious. But once he stopped running, he
didn't know what to do next. She was too close again, appealing to all his
senses, and the pure beauty of her being burned the eyes that seemed determined
to etch every detail of her into his mind. He had to look away, but she only
moved into sight again. The only option left was to close his eyes, and he
tried to convince himself that he welcomed the empty void blindness brought
him.
                                      oOo
The first few days, Rangiku was amused. She didn't know how he did it, but he
managed to not look at her at all. It quickly grew tiresome, and finally so
frustrating she reasoned that if he could play it dirty, then so could she.
There was no trace of hesitation when she grabbed his arm and pulled, spinning
him around to face her only to trap his face in her hands before leaning in for
a kiss that rendered both speechless. The electric sparks that jolted through
her body and spiced her reiatsu sent shivers down her spine, yet the contact of
their lips had only been a few seconds. It was with a weak smile she pointed
out to him that he had finally looked at her again, and that night, the brief
kiss didn't leave her mind.
                                      oOo
Toshiro was less amazed by the bold move of the infuriating woman, because not
only had she managed to make him realize that going days without
really looking at her – and then being left with no choice but to admire her
beauty – had just made things so very, very, very much worse, but she had also
given him another problem to tackle. The kiss. What did it mean? What had it
done to him? What had she done to him and what could he do about it? He
couldn't run from it, he couldn't turn a blind eye to whatever it was that was
happening. He was at a dead end, with no idea of how to get out. The constant
need to kiss her again whenever she was around didn't help either, and he was
so close to…to what? Give up? He hadn't realized he was fighting a battle, and
he wasn't sure if he could call it one once the idea crossed his mind. If it
was, then his control was seriously lacking.
                                      oOo
He was temptation with the capital T, he was temptation on legs; he was
everything Rangiku wanted at the moment. The alcohol in her system did nothing
to suppress her passionate emotions welling up when he entered the bar to drag
her home. It was a rare gesture of him, to come and fetch her during one of her
nights out. When she asked for an explanation for his kind behavior, he seemed
to snap. Half-way down the street leading them away from the bar, he suddenly
stopped to give her a chilling glare. His voice was harsh, loud and so very
angry that it left her feeling slightly uncomfortable despite her utter
happiness of leaning against his muscled frame without being pushed away. He
asked her if she knew what time it was, but before she could reply he told her
himself. 7am? She couldn't remember the last time she checked the clock, but
she vaguely remembered someone telling her that it was only midnight, and the
night was still young, which meant that was around the time she got smashed.
She told him as much, earning a rough shake as his hands grabbed her shoulders.
Yelling this time, he only managed to speak her name and a few curses in a
sentence that fell on deaf ears before she cut him off. His hands were pushed
off her shoulders, and she leaning in (but it was really more like falling
forward) and pressed her full lips against his. Not many thoughts were
occupying her head, before or after the second kiss, and she discovered once
again why she loved sake so much. She felt no regret for ignoring his concern,
because acting on her will and need rather than listening to his words was
such bliss.
                                      oOo
Toshiro had never been a fan of impulses or whims; most of the time he strongly
opposed it, even if it was so terribly endearing when she did it. The second
kiss had been no different, and he was torn between anger and the satisfaction
of having a need and craving fed. She had fallen unconscious moments after he'd
finally pulled away from the, ironically, intoxicating kiss and woken up in her
futon where he'd placed her. Afraid of alcohol poisoning, he'd made a stop by
the 4th division first and despite their assurance that she would be alright
(he didn't acknowledge the statement that she had been worse after
the…betrayal), he had taken her to her rooms and spent the first hours of the
morning by her side, should she show any signs of choking on her insides once
her body rejected the drugs tainting her blood. A few visits to the office,
fetching the most urgent paperwork, he'd made use of her seemingly unused desk
for the remainder of the day. When she woke up sometime after lunch the first
thing she did was to run into her bathroom, no doubt detecting the aroma of the
food he brought with him. He hurriedly followed, arriving in time to see her
heave over the toilet. The anger at her behavior and recklessness, combined
with everything else she made him feel, was pushed aside for a moment and he
tried not to choke on the lump in his throat as he gently gathered her thick,
silky blonde locks in his hands and carefully kept it out of the way. He
desperately wanted to know what had made her push herself into this state, and
the anger returned. Only this time, it was directed at the cause, not the woman
groaning in misery before him.
                                      oOo
Having dealt with many, many hangovers throughout the years, Rangiku was no
stranger to headaches and the pure misery of existing in a world where such
queasy, sick discomfort was possible. But when he got her toothbrush ready for
her, carried her back to the futon, fetched her glass after glass of water and
disappeared to visit the 4th division for a painkiller that wouldn't
kill her as well, she didn't feel all that bad. He must have noticed her
rapidly recovering; because once evening arrived he asked the question she had
waited for ever since she realized he was in her rooms. He asked why she had
drunk so much and spent such a long time in the bar when she was usually
already occupying the office couch by 2am (she hadn't known he knew that she
rarely returned home after a night out, but she refrained from inquiring any
further in that matter for now). She had no desire to lie to him, hating to
beat around the bush, so she told him. She had hoped the get him off her mind,
if only for a night, so she could re-boot. It was exhausting, she told him, to
win him over when he was fighting so desperately to get away. Not that she
minded, she hurriedly added, because it was something she truly desired. His
attention, that is, because she couldn't quite bring herself to claim his heart
when he stared at her with such wide eyes. The blush on his cheeks when she
admitted her interest and intentions, however subtly, was expected. His
reaction was not.
                                      oOo
It hadn't been like in all those mushy, romantic stories he'd been forced to
listen to through the years. From what he knew, it wasn't the most common,
sappy cliché to make the woman in love with you drink herself near alcohol
poisoning (he was still determined she had been close to it, because she had
spent over ten hours in a bar) because you were on her mind too much, and gave
her the impression that her feelings were unwanted. Not even 'the confession',
as it was called, held much potential for a tear jerker of a romance. It was
simple, but honest. No promises of forever, no passionate love-making, not even
a kiss. After her reply to the simple question of why, he had simply been too
stunned to utter a word, but the sad, distant look in her eyes prompted him to
acknowledge her words. He had been assured several times over that the tears in
her eyes were of joy, but he'd instinctively pulled her into an embrace anyway.
Fitting snugly in his arms, she had dozed off with a soft smile on her lips
that he couldn't stop staring at for several minutes. Then, inevitably,
followed a deep and silent pondering of what had happened. He knew enough to
assume they would enter a new relationship, having admitted their mutual
interest, but it was inappropriate. He was her superior, and she was his
subordinate. But they wouldn't be breaking any laws, and if he turned her down,
he was sure it would turn out to be one of the more bitter mistakes he'd ever
do. Coming to a conclusion, he silently handed himself over to the mercy of the
woman in his arms. She knew more of this than he did anyway, and for the first
time since this mess began, he didn't wonder about his next action.
The soft kiss on her forehead came so naturally, he barely spared it a thought.
***** Fast Love *****
Chapter Summary
     The English version of a Swedish drabble I wrote based off of an old
     Swedish pop song called "Hon älskar snabbt" by Snowstorm. The title
     means "She loves fast/quick".
I don't know how long it's been going on, how long it's been there; how long
it's been waiting. I'm only aware that it's here now, that she's here. If it
wasn't for her, would I ever feel like this? I doubt it, but that's not
something to think about at a time like this. Not now, when her arms rest
around my neck; when her lips smile and her eyes see me as if I am everything.
I hardly notice the people watching as bystanders, I don't care when they
express their surprise or distaste. All I feel is her lips on my throat – all I
feel is the warmth that spreads from the skin she's kissing to every cell in my
body. She knows what she's doing, she knows she's driving me insane; an
insanity so intense that it almost suffocates me. I'm more than willing when
her fingers grab my collar and drag me along; showing me the way out of this
crowded, uncomfortable room. Not a soul is around when she stops outside in the
corridor to wrap smooth arms around my neck once again. I lean a bit closer,
pulled towards her warmth and I shiver as her mouth brushes my ear.
"It is late," she whispers; her voice quiet and seductive. "Let's go to my
place."
I follow, as if in a trance; intoxicated by her touches and glances during the
night. Before this I could resist, before this I didn't know. Before this I
hadn't tasted her kisses. I can't bring myself to say no now, can't find the
will to deny what I need. Not even when I know, that's it's only for tonight.
My clothes are scattered, her room is dark and everything I can see is her;
already naked and clinging close to me. I hardly remember how we ended up here;
hardly remember anything other than her body close to mine. Warm, wet kisses
makes my heart beat fast; her smooth skin underneath my hands excites me. So
fragile, so hot, so soft.
Quick, that's the only word I can use to describe this. Quick. I taste her
salty skin, feel her wet excitement. Sounds of pleasure, of desire, fills her
room while we make love; in, out, kisses and caresses. I feel so warm, so
aroused. I need more, want more. She knows, she gives me everything that she
can and more so. She's so soft, loves so quickly.
She loves me.
 
***** Possessive *****
When you first meet her, you are going to be momentarily stunned by how
beautiful she is. Awed, if you will. Her full lips will curve into a smile the
moment you address her, because she knows how much courage it took you to even
utter a word. The smile will make your cheeks hot, it will be contagious. You
cannot hide your intentions, and she knows her own the moment her eyes laid
upon you.
Nothing will happen, not unless she wants to. You won't figure this out until
it's too late, because her bubbly laughter, easy conversation and warm presence
will distract you.
The mole underneath her lip, the thick lashes, and the elegant curve of her
neck and the slim length of her legs will escape your notice, and even as she
talks, you will not follow completely in the conversation. You will nod, smile,
blush and hum. The sound of her voice is what you are going to hear, not the
words, and the generous cleavage is what you will see even when you try to keep
your eyes on her face. But the focus will not lie on the movements of her lips,
because still you will see smooth, tempting flesh just in sight if only your
eyes would wander an inch down. She knows, and she will make you squirm as she
flips her long, silky hair back and rests her weight slightly on one foot;
pushing her chest forward as she takes a deep breath.
You will buy her a drink, because the one she had just ordered before you came
is already empty. You want her drunk; you will try to charm this woman, for she
seems so unattainable to a guy like you. She is a goal, and you promise
yourself that you will reach it tonight.
But, you will realize that she is too easy.
She will accept every drink you buy, she will be moving closer when your hands
start to wander, she will continue to smile, and she will talk for the both of
you and offer you a dance. You will be excited, because everyone will be
looking at you and you have always wanted this.
But, you will be playing straight into her hands.
She will not accept your kiss, she will be turning her head away as you lean
closer, and she will not smile, but smirk. She will no longer be talking,
because the music is too loud, and she will have nothing to say to you when you
try to offer her a place to stay tonight. You will be confused, because
everything seemed to go so well and you had been so sure the moment she smiled
to your greeting.
I know all of this will happen, even as I watch you approach her in the bar.
I am already on my way over and I am just in time to catch her introducing
herself. It is a slight loss, but for this time, I will let you know at least
her name. But her beauty, her smiles, laughter and voice – her flirtatious and
manipulating ways – her alcoholic tendencies, childish, bad jokes and
laziness all belong to me. Her lust, her love, you will never know.
As I'm walking away, dragging her with me, I try to ignore her smug comments
and sly smirk. Ten minutes ago, she left my room with a slam of my door. Five
minutes ago, I stopped kicking the pillows she'd thrown at me and I followed
her. Now I'm taking her home, and once I wipe the smug look off of her face I
will apologize, and she will smile.
Because she is mine, and she will never be yours.
***** A Different Snow White *****

Once upon a time, there was a magical mirror. He (for it had a gender, and it
was male) was said to be able to answer any question you could possibly ask.
Kings and Lords, who wanted advice on warfare and such, offered great rewards
for those who would bring the mirror to them. However, it often ended with fake
mirrors being presented instead and many gave up hope of ever finding the
mysterious object as the years passed.
Meanwhile, during the frantic search for him, the mirror was safely placed on
the wall of an old woman's bedroom. He was quite happy there, even if the
intellectual stimulation the old granny provided was limited to discussing
different recipes and herbs. He also got quite good at crosswords, since she
had a habit of asking him for help. But when he got a word wrong, she was
surprised to realize that yes, he replied to every question she had, although
the answer didn't always had to be a correct one.
A young girl called Momo soon joined the household. She looked slightly older
than the reflection in the mirror that represented his face, but the old woman
was not fooled, for he had been alive several centuries more than either the
girl or herself.
Momo quickly befriended the slightly moody mirror, and the mirror found that he
quite liked the lively presence the girl provided. He even let her know his
name, which only the old woman knew, and she said she didn't like it. So she
called him Snowy instead, because of his white hair and fair complexion.
It was upsetting for the mirror when Momo met and married King Aizen, not only
because she was leaving but because she turned him in for His Highness' uses as
well. A wedding gift, she said.
The following years became quite dreary, and the mirror found himself locked up
in an empty room with little light and nothing but old, worn wallpaper to stare
at. It took King Aizen a long time to realize the mirror didn't necessary know
the answers to everything, but once he did, he also figured out that the mirror
had pretty much been messing up as much as possible for the tyrant of a King.
The mirror soon missed fooling the royal bastard, because it had been his only
interaction with someone else than Momo, who had taken to a bad habit of asking
him who was the most beautiful in the world. Apparently, she was afraid King
Aizen would somehow find her less attractive than yesterday, and so he assured
her that indeed, she was the most beautiful. Even when her dear husband told
her the mirror didn't always speak the truth, she continued to ask almost every
day.
It was making him quite loopy, despite being a magical mirror and all.
So when, one day, the door to his room opened and revealed someone other than
Momo or her King, he had trouble containing the maniac grin that spread across
his otherwise stiff reflection. It turned out to be the King's new (since the
mirror had proven quite useless) advisor's sister, Rangiku. At first he didn't
believe her, for he had seen the new advisor with his silver hair and fox-like
grin, and she looked nothing like that creepy man. Her golden hair fell in
waves, and her lips were full and pulled in a soft smile that made him blush
for the first time in years. When she said Mr Fox wasn't her blood-brother, but
step-brother, the mirror understood.
She continued to come whenever she had time to spare, and the mirror looked
forward to visits, despite her tendency to bring a lot of wine. Her eccentric
ways and noticeable intelligence intrigued him, as well as the fact that she
never asked any other questions other than inquiring of his health or his day,
and sometimes books or food (which he knew a lot about, after his time with the
old granny).
The mirror then realized that she didn't really have to ask anything, because
he found himself telling her anyway. She even liked his name, but admitted that
'Snowy' suited him as well.
It was easy, having a conversation with her, and he hardly noticed how Momo's
visits became fewer and fewer. He didn't really notice until Rangiku told him
that she had a message from her that said;
"I won't be able to visit for a couple of months, but answer this;
'Mirror mirror on the wall,
Who is fairest of them all?'
and tell Rangiku to deliver the answer to me."
The note had been interrupted by Rangiku's laughter once she read the poem Momo
used to pose her question, which had briefly led the mirror to explain how she
always asked the same question and had thought it necessary to make it more
dramatic. It was then he realized that Momo's absence didn't bother him enough
to give her note much thought.
So when he told Rangiku to tell the Queen that she was no longer the "fairest
of them all" (he had found a much more beautiful woman, although she did not
know of his opinion yet), he didn't really consider the consequences.
It was a good thing that Rangiku fell asleep in his room one night, because
otherwise, he would've been nothing but shards of broken glass on the floor. He
was surprised to find that Rangiku had quite the reflexes, and not to mention
her right hook; Momo was out cold within seconds.
That night he was relocated to another set of rooms that were so much more
pleasant, but he was too worried about what would happen to Rangiku once the
Queen was found unconscious with a swollen cheek. She assured him it would be
alright, and surprisingly, Momo chose to keep silent about the matter on the
grounds that she had not known what she was doing, trying to kill her long-time
friend. Rangiku just shook her head and downed another bottle of wine, telling
him she was glad it was over, and kissing his cheek to leave a red kissmark on
the otherwise spotless glass.
It seemed there was a happily ever after before a real story had a chance to
begin.
Not that the mirror minded.
 
***** Rangiku *****

Once upon a time, there was a couple who lived next door to a fox demon. He had
a lovely garden, filled with chrysanthemums in bloom all year round, and the
wife always admired them from afar.
But her and her husband longed for a child, and once she got pregnant she had
to lie in bed all day long, with nothing but the view of those lovely flowers
to gaze upon day and night. Her admiration turned to obsession, and it became
so bad that she couldn't live without holding one of those lovely flowers close
to her chest and she inhaled its scent.
Her husband, desperate to keep both his wife and baby healthy, snuck into the
fox demon's garden one night to snatch a flower, for he dared not take more.
Her wife was so happy, and everything seemed alright, until the next day when
the wife found the flower wilted despite the wealthy amount of water she had
provided with care.
At his wife's wails, cries and declarations of wanting to end her life, the
husband returned to the demon's garden. This time, he took a whole bunch of the
beautiful flowers, but before he could make his escape, the fox demon himself
appeared before him.
"What're you doin', raidin' my garden and destroyin' my priceless flowers?" he
said, an eerie grin on his human-like features. The husband fell to his knees,
begging for his life; horrified by the flash of red eyes as the demon glanced
down on him.
"Very well," he said, tired of the pathetic man's pleads and feeble excuses of
his wife. "I'll allow you to live, and provide you with one new flower each day
for the rest of your life - if you agree to give your first born to me."
The husband, by now desperate, agreed without second thought.
"Good," the fox demon continued. "You will name her Rangiku, after my beautiful
Chrysanthemums, and after the distortion of this event. Now, get out!"
Not needing to be told twice, the man hurried away, absently wondering why the
demon seemed to sure his child would be a girl.
A few days later, most of the encounter seemed more like a dream to the man,
even as he held his baby girl for the first time. Why would a demon want a
child? And a baby at that?
Months passed, and soon a full year had gone. The man had yet to tell his wife
about the deal he made, but there was no need, since the demon had yet to
arrive he must not want it after all. But, he did.
One night, when the child was two years old, the fox demon arrived at the
couple's doorstep. They could do nothing as he took the girl away, and it would
be the last time they ever saw her again.
                                      oOo
Years passed, and the rumour of a beautiful young woman locked high up in an
unreachable tower spread across the land. It was said the infamous fox demon
held her prisoner, hiding her beauty from the world and killing any man who
tried to free her. Yet, they still continued to try, for she was said to be the
closest to a goddess a human could come. Some even suggested she might be a
nymph, or even a demon herself.
But it was far from the truth.
She was human, very human indeed. At times, she would stand by the lone window
of her tower and wonder how long time would pass before she hit the ground if
she jumped, and if her fox would be angry to find the bed of chrysanthemums
underneath crushed by her body. She never did try this out, for she held a
surprisingly positive attitude towards life which allowed her to hope that one
day, she would be free.
Today, however, was not the day.
"Let down your hair, luv, so I can climb that golden stair," a familiar voice
called from the ground. Sighing, Rangiku did as told; flinging her long, long
braid out of the window and bracing herself as it fell down. The fox, who
frequently reminded her to call him Gin, started to climb. Without the magic
embedded in her hair, he wouldn't have been able to get up, and she would,
surely, cut it a lot shorter for comfort. But as it was, the hair was stronger
than any rope.
Gin's visit this time was short, he merely left her a meal and a few new books.
Even when she asked him to stay just a little bit longer, to converse and keep
her from going out of her mind, he still left. She tried to grab a hold of his
long coat, but he slipped out of her grasp and ceased smiling, for once.
"Sorry, Rangiku, you should've held on a bit tigther."
She guessed she should've, but she was sure he would've escaped anyway.
The hours passed, and the evening turned to night, and the night to morning.
Gin didn't come for breakfast. She waited, leaning out of the window and gazing
at the horizon with her braid already falling along the stone wall; ready for
the fox's return. The growling of her stomach prevented her from noticing the
rustling and crunching of the flowers surrounding her tower, but when she felt
something tugging at her braid, she finally looked down.
"Gi--" she began, but was cut off short by the sight greeting her. A young man,
perhaps a few years younger than she, stood looking up with a curious
expression on his pale face. She noticed that his hair had the same unnatural
colour as her fox demon, only this stranger's shade was pearly white rather
than a light grey. His unnaturally clear, teal eyes were visible even from
distance and she wondered if he was, perhaps, another demon. Her suspicions
were confirmed when the boy suddenly sprouted wings of cold, blue ice and flew
up the tall tower in a matter of seconds.
"What are you doing here?" was the first thing he said, and she wondered if
perhaps he was a bit dense as well. One of the stupid demons, maybe?
"Oh, nothing. Just playing the part of a hostage. How about you?" she replied,
voice mockingly light as she tried not to laugh at his frown.
"I was told I would find Gin, the fox demon, here. Are you, by chance, his
hostage?" the white-haired boy said, sounding slightly irritated. She nodded,
curious what business he had with the fox but too thrilled by talking to
someone other than Gin that she didn't really care.
"Yes, I am. He comes here to deliver my meals and keep me company for a few
hours a day. He hasn't been around much lately though, and didn't bring any
breakfast so I'm really starving. Oh, but never mind, where are you from?
What's your name? What kind of demon are you? Is that realice? My God,
it clings on you! Say, you wouldn't have any sweets on you, no? I could really
use something to eat, but---"
"---Look, lady, just tell me in which direction he went and I'll promise to
free you, get you some food, and bring you home, alright? Do we have a deal?"
he interrupted before she could continue her ramblings. She didn't usually talk
this much nonsense, but to her excuse, she had to say that it was her first
time having an actual conversation with an outsider. Usually, Gin killed them
before they could even greet her properly.
"Deal," she said after a few moments, coming to a conclusion that she would be
terribly stupid if she turned down this offer, even if he probably didn't
intended on keeping his part of the deal. "He went east."
"Thank you," he said before leaving in a swish of icy wings. She watched him
disappear into the forest with a sigh, only now realizing that there was a
chance he was after Gin to kill him, and if he did, no one would come and give
her food or company. She would be dead within a few days.
"Damnit."
                                      oOo
Because the white-haired boy with the wings is a person of moral and with a
kind heart beneath all that cold ice, and because the Happily Ever After was
decided before this story was written, Rangiku, named after the Chrysanthemum
she resembled, didn't die.
Before dawn, the boy whose name she learned was Toshiro returned and helped her
down to the ground. She managed to persuade him to fly just a little bit more
before putting her down, because it was the most exciting experience she had
ever had, and he did so with a few half-hearted protests.
However, he was very agitated to find that she had nowhere to go and no home to
return to, which neatly landed her in his hands. That she was prone to walking
straight into danger and force him to come to her rescue only added to his
irritation, but in the end, he didn't really mind. He grew used to her company,
and eventually to the attraction he had harbored since he first saw her gaze
out of that lone tower, with long, golden hair shining in the sun.
But what about Gin, the fox demon? Well, that epic battle is for another story.
***** Reversed *****
It was unfair. The whole situation was just so very unjust. No lieutenant
should be exposed to such distraction on duty. It would be impossible to
withstand this torture – providing you were a functional, straight woman or gay
man – but she franticly searched for a way to endure it all the same. A losing
battle, but her pride refused to let her surrender.
She would not lose to wet clothes, form-fitting jeans (she was going to kill
the designer of those), mussed hair and soft lips.
Not when her peaceful life as a slacker was on stake, should she lose this god-
awful bet. Tightening her grip of the umbrella, she groaned at her situation
and stared into his amused, teal eyes with as much misery she could muster.
"Forget it Matsumoto, if you as much as try to touch me without permission, or
drop that umbrella, you ain't getting none tonight!"
She had never expected him to grow up so fast, but apparently, she was going to
have to fight for dominance from now on. His hand snuck up her skirt and
pressed against her aching sex and she promptly forgot why she should care,
because in the end, it was just as pleasurable.
***** Argument *****
Chapter Summary
     Obviously written before the reveal of who the old Captain of the
     10th Division was.
The white-haired young Captain entered with a dark scowl, bringing with him an
unnaturally cold breeze that made the room's occupants shiver in the summer
heat. However, in the stuffy atmosphere of the library Jushiro rather welcomed
the fresh air coming with the sweep of the short Captain's haori. He chose to
keep this to himself though, as the boy in question sat down with a barely
concealed huff. Hitsugaya Toshiro did not huff though, but Jushiro supposed it
was safe to call it such in the confines of his mind.
"You seem rather…upset today, Captain Hitsugaya," the older man greeted,
patting himself mentally on the back for not using the dreaded nickname when he
was obviously quite pissed already. The old documents on the table before him
wouldn't be able to withstand any degree beneath freezing.
"My lieutenant and I had a slight…disagreement," was the reply, muttered
through clenched teeth while a slim brow twitched in annoyance – no doubt was
he replaying whatever had happened in his head and not liking it. Jushiro
smiled, amused by the fact that he had guessed as much; trust Rangiku to be the
one to destroy the iron-grip this young man usually had on his emotions. It was
always interesting to watch the 10th division's new Captain interact with his
lieutenant, or so he'd been told. He had only seen them together a few times
since Toshiro was appointed Captain, due to being bedridden for several months.
This was his first week outside his office for longer than he cared to
remember.
"Oh, so you've had an argument with Rangiku-chan again, you say?" he inquired,
when it became obvious Toshiro wouldn't offer the information without probing.
"What about?"
A frown met his careful questioning, and he noted with interest how the younger
Captain's cheeks had turned a light pink of embarrassment. Straightening in his
seat, although he was already sitting rigidly so, Toshiro lowered his gaze to
study the papers strewn on the table's surface, probably looking for a
distraction. Clearing his throat, he looked up to meet Jushiro's increasingly
curious stare after having realized that there was no way to smoothly change
the subject.
"It was of no importance," he finally answered, the nonchalant tone in his
voice betrayed by the still lingering blush on his face. Jushiro smiled,
delighted. It was the first time he had witnessed Toshiro in any other mood
than serious or annoyed. He figured it was quite a feat to be able to make him
feel such discomfort, but then again, Rangiku had a knack for such things.
"Surely something that managed to get you to leave the office must've been
important, right, Toshiro-kun?" a familiar voice interrupted, causing both
white-haired Captains to jump slightly in their seats. Jushiro sighed when the
sight of pink greeted his startled stare, wondering how long his old friend had
been lurking about eavesdropping. Toshiro merely titled his head to glare, his
ire reawakened and his embarrassment doubled. Jushiro himself felt slightly
awkward for having missed Shunsui's presence, but he blamed it on being too
occupied with Toshiro's unusual reactions and having just become well enough to
move about again. Besides, the man was extremely skilled in hiding. One must
be, with a lieutenant such as his.
"I'm merely out on business, Captain Kyoraku," Toshiro defended, and Jushiro
could almost see the imagined feathers getting ruffled. "It has nothing to do
with the disagreement with my lieutenant. "
"Disagreement, you say?" Shunsui repeated, casually taking a seat by their
table and rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner. "Was it the argument kind or
the bantering kind?"
Looking slightly startled, Toshiro took a while to respond. Jushiro was as
confused as he, wondering where he was going with this odd conversation. "I
don't see why this is relevant. I—"
"—Well, I was just wondering, Toshiro-kun, what could've caused you such
distress," Shunsui interrupted, smiling and winking at Jushiro when he sent him
a puzzled stare. "You must tell us if Rangiku-chan has overstepped her
boundaries; we understand that being a new Captain puts strain on you and if
there was something she said that upset you so…well, I feel obliged to help!"
Momentarily dazed in what Jushiro assumed was mortification, Toshiro cleared
his throat nervously and tried to renew his glare, but ended up looking
slightly pained. "I assure you that what happened between me and my lieutenant
is nothing I can't handle, Captain Kyoraku."
Humming, Shunsui leaned forward and grinned, causing Jushiro to sigh. He had
given up on this conversation the moment his friend stepped in, obviously with
a goal in mind that probably didn't require his help in order to be reached. So
he settled with observing, quite content with doing so after so many weeks
spent isolated.
"Are you sure, Toshiro-kun? Rangiku-chan is a very difficult person to handle,
and if she managed to get you to run away, I'd say you didn't quite succeed in
'handling' her, hm?" Jushiro watched, curiously, as the pink on the younger
Captain's cheeks darkened and spread over the bridge of his nose as well. His
mouth opened to protest, but Shunsui continued with an exaggerated sigh. "Ah,
Rangiku-chan; she probably isn't the lieutenant most suited for you, Toshiro-
kun. The last Captain couldn't stop complaining about her; it's a wonder she
still has her rank. Are you considering a transfer, perhaps? Was that was this
'disagreement' was about, Toshiro-kun? Well, none of us would—"
"—That is quite enough, Captain Kyoraku," Toshiro bit out, cutting him off
while standing. The temperature had started to drop again, and his
embarrassment seemed replaced with anger rather than the previous annoyance. "I
am not considering a 'transfer' since Matsumoto has proved very capable in what
she does, although her work ethic leaves much to be desired. Our slight
disagreement is between no one else but us and doesn't concern our work. She
is my lieutenant now, not the previous Captain's, and I would prefer if you did
not speak of her as if she is a hindrance. Despite being a rank below us, you
should still show her respect and leave judgment for her performance to me,
as her commanding officer. Now, I apologize for cutting this short, but I need
to return to my office. Good day, Captain Kyoraku, Captain Ukitake."
Flash-stepping away the second he finished his strangely calm berating speech,
Toshiro left behind one last breeze of chilly winter air before the warmth of
summer returned abruptly. Turning to face his old friend, Jushiro waited
patiently for the explanation he knew would come. He was torn between
disapproval and amusement, but carefully kept himself from forming an opinion
just yet.
"Rangiku-chan is quite lucky to finally have a Captain who can appreciate her;
don't you think so, my old friend?" Shunsui finally said, a lazy grin tugging
at his lips. Jushiro sighed, nodding. Sometimes he forgot Shunsui was a man of
action. Admittedly, both had been concerned as well as relieved when a new
Captain had been appointed Rangiku's division, but Shunsui was the one who had
expressed his will to 'investigate' the young boy. It would seem as if that was
now a case closed.
"Even so, Shunsui, you shouldn't have said those things about her," Jushiro
finally said, accepting his friend's plotting but not the comments about
Rangiku. She suffered enough complaints and accusations from others, and to
hear it from her faithful drinking partner was frustrating, even if he didn't
mean it.
"I never lied," he defended with a grin. "I said it was her old Captain that
complained about her, and it is a wonder she wasn't sacked when that old man
wouldn't stop whining. Besides, she probably isn't the lieutenant most suited
for him, but that doesn't mean they don't work well together. From the looks of
it, she's already crawled under his skin, the poor thing. I imagine we'll
encounter many more temper tantrums like this one in the future, old friend."
Chuckling, Jushiro shook his head and sighed. The man was impossible,
sometimes. A few moments of silence followed, before he spoke up again.
"I bumped into Rangiku on my way here. Apparently, she was looking for her
Captain to continue with their…discussion."
Raising a brow in question, Jushiro leaned back and observed his friend's
smirk."Oh? Their 'discussion' wouldn't happen to be the same as their
'disagreement', would it?"
Shunsui laughed, obviously amused. "In fact, it was the same. What a
coincident, don't you think?"
"Yes, indeed," He smiled. "But what was this discussion about?" It would be
lying to say he wasn't curious.
"Whether there should be saké or caffeine in the tea, and which would be the
most effective to fight off weariness."
Jushiro decided he had to visit the 10th division more often from now on, if
only to hear the reasoning behind such an 'argument'. It was bound to be
interesting.
***** Her Love Story *****
It takes a lot for her to lose her control. She is dominant, she makes her own
rules – she makes people back down and follow her lead. Nothing gets under her
clothes; nothing gets under her skin – not without her permission. Nothing has
shaken her resolve, tipped her world up-side-down or even taken notice of her
games.
                                       .
Trust it to be a young man who looks like he's barely legal to be the first
proving her wrong.
                                       .
He had approached her in her seat by the bar. Unlike most nights, she hadn't
been looking for trouble – delicious, mind-blowing trouble caused by those
spur-of-the-moments encounters. She had been sure she had made it clear to
everyone there that it was her night off. No crazy partying, no crazy sex with
faceless people buying her next drink. It had been a night she had planned to
spend breathing, to spend existing, without doing anything – it was her weak
attempt at assuring herself she could be, she could live, despite any sort of
activity. The drinking only helped her think during these nights, really.
But he had stepped up, smirking as if he knew something she didn't, and bought
himself a drink. She was a woman who appreciated beauty, in all forms, so the
smile she sent his way hadn't been as cold as she'd hoped it to be.
                                       .
He had been blunt, it had made her laugh. She had never seen him before, but he
had seen her. Observed her enough to give her a short summary of everything she
was. She'd refused to be shocked, had merely complimented his skill. Obviously
he was of the smarter kind, and she had asked what he was doing talking to a
woman like her. He'd shrugged, told her he was trying to find the missing piece
in his puzzle.
"This isn't all that you are," he'd said. She kept meeting him for days after
that – weekdays, weekends – and always the same bar, always the same drinks.
Pink Lady for her, dry martini for him – shaken, not stirred. He'd liked her
jokes, and admitted he too was a fan of Bond, James Bond. She asked for his
name, and he'd replied with a charming grin.
"Hitsugaya, Hitsugaya Toshiro."
It made her giggle.
                                       .
Then, she introduced him to her friends. Her crazy, partying friends. Her
comrades. Because then, she could say;
"This is Toshiro! Toshiro, meet my friends; Ikkaku, Yumichika and Renji!"
She liked knowing she was the only one in the group who knew everyone, she
liked controlling the conversation. Simply, she liked control. It shocked her
when he had excused them from her friends' company, even more so when they
agreed without complaint. He'd taken her back to the bar, bought her a drink,
and offered her a ride home. The blush on his cheeks when she teasingly accused
him of jealousy had brought on a rush of adrenaline – control. He wanted her.
                                       .
"I won't be coming around for a while, my girlfriend and I made up."
                                       .
She had been stupid to think a man like him was unattached, but comforted
herself with the thought that he had wanted her. As a replacement, as an in-
between embrace to fall into. She had been there, she had done it herself. She
was constantly doing it, wasn't she? Seeing something she liked, taking a bite,
then leaving (the only difference was he hadn't even taken a nibble of what she
had to offer).
She stopped thinking about it after a week, because she knew she had no right
to be hurting.
                                       .
When he came back, sliding effortlessly into the seat next to hers, she had
complimented the healthy flush on his cheeks.
"You look good." And he did. She asked where his girlfriend was, because it
would be nice to meet her. She had always wondered what girls who had guys like
him looked like – how they behaved – what it was they had that attracted them.
"I broke up."
Then again, maybe she was better off not knowing. But she liked how he used
'I', rather than 'we'. Why? She didn't stop to think.
                                       .
His first kiss had been sweet, something she wasn't used to. Not only because
it was soft or because it made her heart skip a beat, but because hewas the one
who kissed her.She made up for her lack of control by breaking it off, leaving
him with a teasing smile and a whispered promise of more– because, really,
she should've been the one to take the first step, since she had wanted to from
the moment they met and it had now made her look indecisive. That just wouldn't
do.
                                       .
"Why won't you just accept my invitation?"
She didn't know, but dinner with him would mean leaving the bar. Leaving her
playfield, leaving her safe ground, leaving her kingdom. She would be
vulnerable and she would risk losing control.
It didn't matter that it would be her first date since him, and it didn't mean
anything that she really wanted to go.
Just to prove how meaningless the whole thing was, she'd agreed.
                                       .
Fucking with him was wild. Fucking with him was in a sleek, red Porsche with
her stilettos on and braced against the dashboard. It was satisfying, it was
spur-of-the-moment and it was safe; she had done it before. He'd lost control;
her hand had squeezed his arousal and caressed him through his pants until he'd
stopped by a deserted parking place and given in. She took pleasure in his
surrender, in her control.
"You're driving me insane woman."
She hoped so, because then maybe she'd let him stay. She didn't deserve a man
who ordered glasses of water when she'd drunk too much, who reserved a table
weeks before the actual dinner, who opened the car's door for her, lent her his
coat and massaged her feet after a long walk by the beach.
If he was crazy, he'd be like her, and she wouldn't feel so bad about living in
a lie. He would be doing the same, then.
                                       .
Sex with him was exciting. It was temporary, a few days a week. It kept her on
her toes, she never knew when it would end and it made her wonder what had
happened to control. Simple, familiar control.
"Do you want to go to your place this time?"
She didn't. She had no desire to take him to a flat with a kitchen and a living
room and a bathroom. Her bed was too small for two, her couch would surely
break, and her kitchen wasn't sanitary. The bathtub was her sanctuary, where
she forgot everything. She wouldn't be able to forget him.
"Your place is closer."
And he wouldn't know they were passing it by even as she spoke, because she had
never told him where it was.
                                       .
Making love to him was awkward. She had lost control and given in to him – he
was so persistent.
Yes, making love to him was new; it was fumbling, blushing and stuttering. It
made her moan like they were having sex, it made her breath hitch like they
were fucking, but she reasoned there shouldn't be any difference between any of
these words because in the end, they were all the same.
"I love you."
But it was the first time she cried even as she moaned in pleasure, it was the
first time she replied and meant it. She likes to think it's special, likes to
think it's meant to be and that maybe, there is a difference. Because, in the
end, she is a woman and she's dominant and she's found someone who slipped
underneath her skin with no effort at all.
It wouldn't be safe to leave him unattended, so she stays.
"I prefer your place, Toshiro-kun. You bed is large enough for two."
 
***** Unsuspected *****
What you see isn't always what you get.
Hitsugaya Toshiro is very familiar with this particular saying, and although it
sometimes brings him disappointment, he is more often than not strangely
grateful – at least when it comes to the beautiful woman sprawled across the
couch. She is a wonderful bundle of contradictions and like with most things,
the simple saying he often uses in the confines of his mind isn't nearly wide
enough to describe her specifically. But, he muses, when it comes down to it,
it suits her quite well.
When you look at her, you'll see her long, wavy, golden hair; the silky locks
framing a beautiful face with intense, blue eyes and lush, glossy lips. You'll
see a slender body graced with a generous bust which cleavage made many do a
double take. You'll be tricked to believe that the elegant mole placed so
gracefully underneath her plump bottom lip is the only thing marring her pale,
smooth skin and it'll make her perfect.
But he knows, oh he knows of the many things shattering the perfect image she
presents to the untrained eye. The eye unwilling to see past their own awe,
their own jealousy, their own imagination.
But he, he sees it all. He sees the palest freckles adoring her straight nose;
he sees the specks of grey in the seemingly endless blue of her eyes. He sees
that her flat stomach and strong, slim arms have moles scattered along her skin
and that the toe next to her big toe is slightly longer on both her feet.
But her warm hands and slender legs are his favorite.
All the calluses on her palms, all the pale and dark scars marring her long
legs tells stories he loves to read – with his eyes, his lips, his tongue,
fingers and hands. It tells of dirt, of grime, pain, strength and life. It
betrays the glamorous, the beautiful, the perfect illusion so skillfully
crafted by her wide smiles, graceful movements and charming personality. It
allows him to see the road that has led her to the point where she is now, a
road that has made her to the person he loves with his mind, his heart, body
and soul.
And she moans so tantalizingly when his tongue trails along that road, she
wraps herself tightly around him when he whispers his own tale across her
scarred skin in a foolish hope of their paths entwining. He feels he can go on
forever, hearing her story, tasting her life, but it makes him uneasy to
realize he is missing in all those memories, in all those moments that makes
her her. So he marks her, as best as he can, where her skin is still pale and
perfect. A small drop of blood touches his tongue and he is reminded of all the
times she has bled without him, bled because of someone else. So he soothes it
almost immediately, wiping away any trace, but the mark of his teeth still
lingers – his, no one else's.
He pushes himself forward, trying to melt into her warm embrace, and rejoices
as her soft flesh welcomes him. He imagines this will stay with her, this will
change her; this will become another part of her. They are one, after all, and
he likes to think that once it's over, something – anything – will be left
behind. In her, he wishes it'll stay. He cannot imagine a better place to be.
He is marking her again, gentler this time. He sucks, nibbles and kisses until
the white scar across her collarbone is red and can't be recognized for what it
is anymore. Even if he can't mold himself into her past, he aims to entangle
himself with her present, her future. She welcomes him with moans, sighs and
breathy whispers of his name, his title and a possessive exclamation
of mine. It makes him shiver in pleasure, makes him claim her lips until
they're swollen from his attention. He wishes it wouldn't end so soon, but it's
rushed, it's desperate and it's quick. He couldn't wait, so he's not allowed to
take his time now.
Then she tells him she loves him and he forgets his regrets. He caresses the
new marks on her skin, the new moments in her life, with a delicate finger. He
can barely speak, she's made him so breathless, but it's a good thing, he
believes. It gives him an excuse to trace his reply on her heart, his touch
lingering on the skin of her heaving chest.
She smiles and he delights in the face of her contentment. She tells him he's
sweet, a hopeless romantic. At this moment he doesn't care, because he is
caressing her bare stomach and imagining what will become of that piece of him
inside. This time, will it stay? This time, will it be welcomed, accepted? Will
it mold into one – a piece of him, a piece of her – and become a child? Their
child?
She laughs at his fascination, not because it's funny, but because it's
genuine, and she expresses joy the best through noises. He knows; she has
always been loud. Kissing his nose, she sighs and he smiles. She tells him no
one believes her when she brags about him, about how cute, how kind, loving
and perfect of a man he is. It makes him blush, but he says that what you see
isn't always what you get, and again, she laughs.
He spares a glance at her flat tummy, wondering if it really is devoid of a new
life. Maybe he was too quick to assume their first few tries have been
unsuccessful, and silently he tells himself to accompany her to the 4th
division once his breathing has returned to normal.
It reminds him of why he was in a hurry in the first place, and soon, he has
them dressed quicker than he had managed to untie her obi minutes ago.
And a moment later, the 10th division's office is empty once again.
***** Worlds *****
Swallowing as his name rolled off her tongue like dripping honey, Toshiro tried
to remember why he'd been so upset over something as trivial and ordinary as
Matsumoto's cheery tales of her mischief of the day. Stress and her provoking
clothing were the first reasons that came to mind, but no negative thoughts
were attached to his, by now, rather blurry memory. But he really needed the
distraction of his anger now, or he would not be able to resist her soft hands.
It was, however, too late. The unpleasant emotion of annoyance had already
begun to melt away to be replaced by the familiar tug of arousal. He managed an
unconvincing growl before his lips were given a task they carried out with much
more passion.
Kissing her deeply, his arms embraced her slim waist and his hands climbed up
her spine to reach the zipper of the flimsy dress that held her body captive;
pulling it down and freeing her naked breasts. He could never decide if he
hated or loved the fact that she never bothered with a bra or any kind of
bindings for her delicious breasts, now pressing against his clothed chest. He
tugged at the straps of her dress impatiently, making her wriggle and slide her
arms out of them; the upper part of the dress pooling around her waist to rest
on her curvy hips. One more tug at the silky fabric and it slid down her long,
slim legs easily; almost like a whisper across her creamy skin.
He lost no time letting his hands roam the skin now fully available for him,
and greedily swallowed her moans of approval. Breaking away in a gasp of
shocked, intense pleasure his hips jerked forward to meet the teasing hand that
had suddenly squeezed the aching bulge in his pants. She smirked at his
reaction, and continued to massage the hot arousal while unbuttoning his shirt
with practiced ease. He moaned and leaned forward, resting his cheek against
her shoulder and nuzzling her neck affectionately as his hips settled in a
slow, grinding rhythm. His hands – which had not stopped tracing her spine and
soft skin – travelled down to her bottom, cupping the clad cheeks and groaning
in approval as her hand slipped inside unzipped pants; squeezing.
This was as dangerous as it was delicious, he knew. Coming to the real world
had its perks, which she seemed to take full advantage of as she let him push
her up against the wall of an alley between two apartment complexes. Here,
their private time was almost doubled compared to the other world. Here, his
resolve snapped so easily is was laughable.
Here, in this world, when they walked the streets, people would see a couple.
Not a Captain and his Lieutenant.
Here, he mused, she was free for his taking and he knew he wouldn't let it go
to waste.
Here "I love you" shamelessly.
She smiled.
"I love you too."
***** Ribbon *****
The ribbon had been a present, she remembered. It had been sweet, in an
innocent kind of way. She really missed the illusions of the past at times like
these, when the ribbon tightened around her tangled hair and slipped through
her calloused fingers. It was silk, a fabric she hadn't had contact with for
years that had been easily forgotten.
She could not, however, forget the boy who had so awkwardly shoved this gift
into her hands so many summers ago.
At fifteen, she had had many suitors. He had been ten, too young, but the blush
on his cheeks had been genuine despite the childish edge of his boyish,
arrogant attitude. It had been her birthday, a feast had been held in her
honor, but she hadn't been one for such things even back then. Showing off
wealth, smiling at your enemy and giving them your dance. Idiotic theatrics.
She'd left, snuck outside to her private garden, and she'd thought she was
alone.
He had been waiting by the small bench she had favored, shuffling his feet in
uncharacteristic anxiety while nervously picking at a neatly wrapped present.
It was a pleasant surprise that night, and she could still picture his face as
she'd kissed his cheek and exchanged her hairclips and bows for that simple,
pink silk ribbon. It amused as much as it saddened her whenever she met him
now, and compared her memory with what she was seeing presently.
He was seventeen now, and she past twenty.
Gone were her flowing skirts and golden jewelry, replaced with tattered tunics
and sturdy boots. Her sword and bow were her accessories, her clothing
practical and her movements graceful as that of a warrior. She wasn't a Lady
anymore, and he wasn't her shy, young suitor.
"Matsumoto, this ends now!" he called after her, sword raised and eyes blazing.
She smiled, wondering what she looked like to him. What he thought of her. Did
he think she was a thief? A traitor? Was her lips still lush and her hair still
golden?
"Oh, but Captain," she replied to his shout, keeping her distance from him
while dodging the few soldiers surrounding them. "I am just starting to enjoy
it! You wouldn't deny a Lady her fun, right, Captain?"
He snarled a curse, noting he hadn't gotten any closer to her. She was slippery
as fish. "You're hardly a Lady, Matsumoto! You're an outlaw and I will catch
you!"
She giggled, mounting the horse of a newly fallen soldier. Gripping the reins,
she flashed him a wide smile before winking and sending him a kiss. "You've
been trying to catch me for six years, Captain! What makes you think this time
will be any different?"
She left before he could reply, horse rearing before setting off in a fast
gallop and leaving a trail of dust behind. He watched her men retreat,
following their leader, and frowned. Something pink caught his attention from
where he stood, and he hastily made his way to it.
The ribbon.
It smelled like her, despite the dirt dulling its color. He let it slide
between his fingers, caressing. He had seen her wear it ever since he gave it
to her and he wondered if she ever took it off. The thought of her keeping it
on, always, made him smirk as he stared into the distance. She had gotten away
again, as she always did, which meant another Lord had been stripped of his
gold when travelling through these woods. Taking from the rich to give to the
poor, they said. Secretly, he understood. Secretly, he knew he wasn't chasing
her to put her behind bars.
Secretly, he admired the crazy maiden who left the comfort of her riches to
fight for the people who could not do it for themselves.
Yes, secretly, he loved Matsumoto Rangiku more than anything.
And next time he saw her, he'd make sure to give her ribbon back.
***** Treasures *****
He wasn't gentle; his hands were rough and calloused, his arms strong and his
kisses rough. But she didn't mind, because without fail, he would taunt her
senses until she screamed his name – until she forgot his title – and lost all
semblance of control and defiance. And he loved her like that, she knew. When
her moans became pleading, when her tongue gave way for his and when her arms
held on to him like he was the only thing of substance in her world.
Her lips would be too occupied with whispers of the pleasure he brought her to
form her trademark grin – the smirk she knew drew him insane with frustration.
Even her eyes would be too clouded for the usual taunting twinkle to test his
patience, and she knew his driving need to possess her, to make
her bend to him, would be fulfilled once again, like every night. She knew it
was inventible, but she would be lying if she said she didn't thoroughly enjoy
taunting him until he snapped and abandoned his chilly demeanor as easily as he
shrugged out of his Captain coat and left duty behind. And like every day, she
wondered how long it would take for him to retreat to his cabin with her in
tow, leaving the crew to smirk and share knowing glances, among the many
jealous mutters and curses.
Securing a lock of stray, golden hair behind her ear, Matsumoto Rangiku grinned
from her position by the railing of the quarter deck as her inner musings were
interrupted by a scorching hot glare.
She met the sea green eyes of her Captain with a tilt of her lips that
suggested she knew exactly why his temper was climbing, and doing so quite
rapidly. Having spent an hour or so simply staring, eying him up and down, she
would have to be pretty dense not to realize her attention was far from
appreciated. He was currently steering the ship, the midday sun hot and blazing
despite the chilly winds of the ocean. Not a fan of warmth, not to this degree,
she was amused by how stubbornly he kept still at his post when he usually left
the steering to her or another member of the crew around this time a day. She
figured he had wanted distraction, by his reaction to her advances below deck
earlier when she had snuck down to tap in on some of the rum and he'd followed
– knowing all too well what she'd been up to the moment she left the main deck.
Her Captain was strict with such things – not only the drinking, but indulging
in sexual activities outside his cabin as well, much to her amusement and
annoyance.
So after a few heated kisses and perfectly indecent groping, he'd stormed out
on her and promptly taken over the steering of the ship even as she followed,
her eyes having yet to leave his rather delicious body and cute, highly
annoyed, face.
"Matsumoto," he growled, speaking to her for the first time since he'd left her
below deck. She straightened from having leaned against the railing, grinning,
and made her way to where he stood in a silent response to his unspoken
command.
"What, Captain?" she asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible but failing
quite miserably. Had she ever been innocent? She couldn't remember.
"If all you intend to do is to stare, then do so somewhere else," he snapped in
reply, hands clenching around the steering wheel to betray his mounting temper.
If he was showing his agitation physically – glares excluded – then she was
making progress.
"But I like the view from up here," she purred, slipping up close to blow hot
breath on his ear. He flinched at her sudden movement and closeness, but
remained where he stood. He would never back down, she knew, and when she
grinned her lips brushed lightly against his skin and she was sure he saw her
smirk without looking.
"Matsumoto," he began, voice strained. "As your Captain, I order you to get
your ass moving and do some work! Get to the main deck, now woman!"
She sighed, pressing a kiss by the corner of his lips before quickly removing
herself from harm's way and sending him a slight pout, even as her stormy eyes
twinkled with mirth. "Aye, Capt'n!"
She could feel his glare on her back all the way down, and the extra sway of
her hips made him wonder if she knew what she was getting herself into. The
thought had barely registered before he shook his head and smirked. Of course
she knew; she welcomed it with open arms – and legs –every night. Frowning at
the turn of his thoughts, Hitsugaya Toshiro cursed the woman for the umpteenth
time. It would be hard to find good enough distractions again – no pun
intended. And she was probably already below deck emptying the bottles of rum
with her faithful drinking buddies, not caring if he was willing to strangle
something soon with the foul temper she had caused with her irresistible
teasing.
Sometimes he wondered if he had made the right choice to spare her life, what
with the ease she drove him crazy and crushed his control. Then the memory
of that day would flash before his eyes as fresh as if it was yesterday – not
four years in the past – and he would abandon such thoughts and silently agree
that it had been one of his better decisions in this life of piracy he led.
Matsumoto Rangiku had been the Captain of this ship when he first came aboard
as a cabin boy. It hadn't taken him long to gain respect and climb in the
unspoken ranks among the crew. Not with his skill in battle and quick thinking
that had saved the ship many troubles. But he would never be First or even
Second Mate, and he would never get his hands on the one woman he had ever
wanted so bad it made his blood boil. It hadn't helped that she knew, hadn't
helped him at all that he knew she refused him a higher rank to keep the
distance and to taunt him with her title.
When some of the men had started to grow restless with a woman as Captain, he'd
seized his chance. Although he was among people who needed no such thing, he
justified his actions with arguing for the need of having the strongest as the
leader. He knew she could never win against him, and challenged her for her
title before anyone else could. He wouldn't allow her to lose to anyone else.
Their fight that day had been exhilarating. First blood, he'd said, and when
he'd cut through her dirty woolen blouse, exposing her taunt stomach and the
thin line of blood running across it, they'd both been panting and flying high
on the excitement of battle.
She had accepted her defeat gracefully, and he sometimes wondered if it'd been
a true defeat at all. Kneeling before him, she'd had her head high and waited
for his sword to drop and sever her pretty little head from her thin shoulders.
He'd brought the tip of his sword underneath her chin and forced her to look
him straight in the face, rather than through seductive lashes, and he'd
considered killing her then because of her knowing smirk and ever-twinkling
eyes. She'd known his intention, and as the crew cheered upon his announcement
– for the majority liked her for more than her body and pretty face – her gaze
had never left his.
"I'll let you live, Matsumoto Rangiku, former Captain of the Red Storm," he'd
said, ignoring the relived cheers that had followed his statement as he
continued, "and from now on your life belongs to me."
He'd meant every word, but as time passed, he found himself wondering if the
power he had over her was as strong as he'd claimed. He even entertained the
thought of this ship being named after her, with the havoc she created with her
mere existence. She didn't fear him, never had and probably never would. His
threats only provoked teasing winks and knowing grins, and he'd been forced to
realize no matter how many times he drew his sword or dagger to graze her
throat it would never sink any deeper than the first layer of skin. Of all the
things he wanted, her death was one thing he truly did not desire. It was the
one thing he allowed himself to fear, because she – with her smiles, her eyes
and warmth – was the only thing he could not imagine himself without.
She was a treasure he never intended to share, never intended to bury, hide or
spend. She was his and he would do anything to show it, would continue to
possess her as thoroughly he could.
But first thing's first, he mused as he handed over the steering wheel to his
Second Mate and made his way down to the main deck. Just for today, he needed
to make sure she knew exactly what she was playing with – after what she did
below deck it was only right, steering up memories from the past – and no one
would really miss them if they were gone for a couple of minutes. They might
not even notice it, he hoped. Even if they did, no one would question it,
because she was his. And he was Captain, so he could do what he pleased. And
for once, he decided to actually act upon it for a very selfish reason rather
than for the benefit of his ship and his crew.
He just needed to find her, that damnable woman. It wouldn't surprise him if
she intentionally hid to further rile him, but there wasn't many placed to
hide, and the longer the wait the sweeter the reward, he'd been told.
Too bad he wasn't sweet, but all was well, because she didn't want it any other
way. That's what her moans told him, anyway, and he knew he'd struck gold –
quite literally – with the way she fit against him.
A treasure indeed.
***** Unexpected *****
Hitsugaya Toshiro woke up as he usually did, lying in a wide, big futon with
silken sheets and an impressive amount of pillows. The maid that his father
insisted on keeping around sat kneeling by his side, having just straightened
up after nudging him awake. He rolled to the side, ignoring the servant as he
slowly sat up and slipped out of the covers. Before he managed to stand up, the
maid was there with his morning robe and slippers, which he slipped into with
ease while standing up. His arms stretched out and the maid dressed him in his
robe within seconds, and as she tied the obi he stifled a yawn before shooing
her away with slight annoyance. He was never a morning person.
Sliding the beautifully decorated door aside, he stepped out into the hallway
and made his way towards the dining room, leaving the maid to make his room
ready for his return. Glancing out of the windows as he passed, he noted that
he had indeed been woken up as early as he had requested.
Today was going to be a long day, he mused. A trip into town, to greet the
people his father ruled and protected in the name of the Emperor. It was a
mundane task for the young man, and he found it as enjoyable as attending the
numerous formal, social gatherings his father arranged or was invited to (Lord
Kyōraku made horrible company with all his indecent drinking, not to mention
the bad influence he had on the young boy's sometimes rather naïve father, but
alas, they were childhood friends and inseparable much to the son's chagrin).
He would rather stay in his room, surrounded by scrolls and rare books, than be
forced to do something as unnecessary as being carried around town in an overly
decorated carriage with guards taking up the whole street.
The people that were pushed out of the way stayed silent, or cheered when the
guards gave them their cue, and when he looked out through the covered windows
he saw them bow down deeply, averting their eyes, with the occasional youngster
who suffered from a rebellious streak, making an unnecessary fuss. Those youths
were the only ones that provided some kind of entertainment, although he found
himself disgusted by their ignorance. Common people had no grace or intellect;
no allurement. Nothing that interested him.
Pushing his inner musing of the upcoming day aside, he sat down by the table
and took in the many delicious dishes that stood before him. If nothing else,
he was always incredibly hungry in the mornings.
                                      oOo
"What the fuck are you doing Gin?!"
"Wha? Watch yer language, hun'. I'm eatin', ya see?"
"Dammit, that was mine, you idiot!"
"Well, it's still in there. Come 'n get it?"
"Urgh, never mind. You owe me one."
A young pair consisting of a man, whose smile could only be described as fox-
like in appearance, and a woman of exotic beauty (if not somewhat dulled by
days or perhaps weeks of travelling) came bickering down a dusty, lonesome
road. They were heading towards the town that could be seen just up ahead,
carrying with them nothing more than a bundle of items each, tied to their
backs, and worn-looking swords secured by their obis, and a wide woven hat on
the woman's head. They walked slowly, but came to a stop as they were almost
within sight of the guards by the town's entrance. The woman sighed, before
untying the bundle on her back and pulling out a big, tattered piece of
clothing.
"I hate this," she grumbled, a pout making her full lips gleam in the sunlight
as she licked them. The man snorted, helping her dress and hide her long, wavy,
blonde hair and the lower part of her face beneath a worn cloth, followed by
her wide hat. "Well, ya know how it is. You lookin' like a foreigner 'n all.
We'd be arrested before we'd managed to do somethin' worth gettin'
arrested for, obaasan."
"Don't over do it, smartass. You won't have to call me that 'till we reach the
gates. But oh yes, I can practically see the wheels in your head turning Gin,"
she began, voice slightly muffled by the fabric as they started to walk again,
and she continued with an impatient sigh. "But this time, could you please wait
at least a few days before adding more stuff to our criminal record? And
please, keep it down; we don't need any more people after our heads."
"Chill, obaasan," was his answer as they neared the town's entrance. "What's
the worst that can happen, eh?"
She really did not want to find out, and thus refrained from answering that
horribly jinxed question as she made herself ready to trick another set of
guards with her back bent, walking with a limp. Sending a silent prayer to
whatever holy powers that were out there, she hoped that this would be nothing
other than all the other towns they had visited throughout the years.
                                      oOo
Loud, busy, vibrant; alive. That was her first impression as she stepped
through the gates and followed her companion into the heart of the city. It had
turned out to be quite a lot larger than she had expected, but she assumed it
was because the previous villages they had encountered on their way here had
been quite a few, but pretty propitious. Usually, when that was the case, there
was no large town near, since taxes would drain the villages' economy and leave
a tell-tale sign of a tyranny she had grown up to hate. But for whatever
reason, she had seen no outrageous suffering, and it had been surprisingly easy
to get a hand on food, water and shelter for the night. It was things like
these that lifted her spirits high, and made the ache in feet, legs and arms
worth it. The mischievous glint in Gin's eye as he cracked one open from his
ever-present squint, in order to observe her, excited her enough to make her
forget, for a moment, the need to tread carefully. His grin widened, and she
giggled at the insane expression that now adorned his thin, sharp face.
"Let's see what this town has to offer, shall we, Ran-chan?"
                                      oOo
An elder man's hands shook ever so slightly as he positioned his arms before
him, making a deep bow before pleading in a wavering voice to the young man
before him. "My young Lord, please---"
"---Did I not make myself clear? I said to take the short route."
"But, please, Toshiro-sama, the people---"
"---The people hate this tradition as much as I do. Now, let us take the short
route, and end this as efficiently as possible. I have other matters to attend
to, as you should know, being my advisor."
The older man relented, knowing better than to press the matter further. He
made a mental note to speak with the Lord of his son's distaste for traditions
once again, because maybe, just maybe, the Lord would do something about his
son's outrageous behaviour. It was highly unlikely, since the Lord gave his son
free reign about almost everything. Even his wife showed little concern about
their heir's cheek, but this old man was in no place to criticise, he knew. The
young man was of rare talent; intelligent, with outstanding skills in both
battle and leadership. Ever since he could walk and talk, the young Lording had
continued to impress those around him, although he also gained an equally large
amount of envy and distaste from those who weren't part of his admirers. The
only wish the old man had was for the young boy to realize that sometimes,
knowledge isn't everything. Sometimes, experience is the only way of truly
understanding.
                                      oOo
They had already managed to get their fill of lunch, and she had quickly
forgiven her companion for eating her last piece of food from the last trip
once he snatched several delicious looking fruits and riceballs, all fresh, and
thrust into her eager hands. They had only explored what she estimated was one
fourth of the city, and were taking a short break by the river dividing the
town in two. Perched on the bridge's railing, she happily munched on her last
bit of apple while dangling her feet to the tune she hummed. She was temporary
out of her role as the poor old granny, but left her hood to cover her cursed
hair. Combined with her stormy, steel-blue eyes the blonde tresses would cause
nothing but trouble, with the capital T.
Gin, whose eyes seemed completely shut, observed their surroundings with
expertise. She knew he saw everything, despite his bad habit of squinting so
terribly. No doubt was he pondering where they would sleep tonight, or maybe he
was considering what man to rob? She had made him promise time and again to
only take from the richest people around, although that mattered little in the
villages where no one could be called rich. She knew this was a poor attempt at
keeping her morals in a world that constantly spit on them, but Gin had
humoured her so far, and she was grateful even if she knew he held no qualms
robbing the poor blind. Survival for the fittest, she mused as the sour taste
of the fresh apple turned slightly bitter.
"Hey," he suddenly called, snatching her attention. His grin was wide, excited,
and she curiously looked in the direction his finger pointed at. "Looks like
somethin's goin' down."
They were in the less populated part of town, so the commotion on their side of
the river surprised her. Seeing the flash of a few soldiers between the masses
of people gathering, she smirked. "Seems like it's a bit too crowded; it's
almost a bit…suspicious. Don't you think, son?" Even as she spoke she jumped
down and slipped into her disguise easily; hunching her back and changing her
musical, deep voice into a dry, old one. Gin merely returned her smirk with his
far more impressive one, and it was in silence that they made their way off the
bride.
They might have some prey to catch.
***** Art *****
At first, it had amused her. He was young, but looked so serious about it that
she just couldn't say no. Had it been any other, she would've flat-out refused,
and he knew it too. She just didn't do those kinds of portraits.
Come to think of it, he hadn't really asked for her permission – it had been
more like a request. His confidence was admirable, she thought, and not
undeserved at all. He was a genius, for all his grumpy manners and smart-ass
comments, and it intrigued her like none other. It was always a plus he was
pleasant to the eye as well, even with that ever-present frown that brought his
brows together and created that little crease she always tried to smooth out
with a stroke of her finger. All it ever did was making him blush and frown
ever more though, followed by embarrassed shouting and moments of delight for
her. He hated touching, any kind of contact, and always kept a ridiculous
distance between them despite the hooded glances he sent her way.
But really, whatever he did, he had her wrapped around his finger in a way
every man she met dreamed of.
And ironically, he didn't even know it.
"Matsumoto, hold still!"
She snapped to attention at his impatient exclamation, grinning sheepishly
while shifting her bare leg and titling her head as best she could, trying to
remember how he wanted her to pose. Really, it was ridiculous how easy he got
under her skin (not to mention her clothes, she mused with a breathy giggle
that had him raising a brow) and got her so awfully distracted. Besides, the
scratchy sound of pen against paper, or brush against canvas, could become
quite hypnotic after a while…
"Sorry, sorry! It's just so boring, Toshiro-kun!" she sighed, grinning in reply
to his glare from behind the canvas. The first few sessions she'd sat as his
model – for the project in his class, as he'd explained, although his blush
told of other motives as well – she'd been surprised at how well drawing and
painting suited him. He concentrated so intently on his work hours seemed to
pass like minutes, and nothing else but him, his pen or brush, paper or canvas,
and the motif, seemed to exist. Every part of her – revealed; naked – was under
his scrutiny hours on end and all it did was making her heart flutter and her
breath hitch. His clear, teal eyes were focused on her, as if she was part of
that world he created – the world of his art; his work.
In length though, even his undivided attention could get more overwhelming than
flattering and she often found herself spacing out.
"MATSUMOTO!"
Like now, again.
"Ah!" she winced, apologetic this time. He'd been more on edge the last few
times she'd seen him (even if she was guilty of teasing him, she suspected
there was more to it) and she'd wondered what exactly he was doing. He'd thrown
away so many sketches before finally settling for one, now being in the process
of putting it on canvas with a brush. She hadn't been allowed to see how he
fared, and therefore had no idea what was making him so frustrated. Was it her
pose? Did he have trouble with some section of her body? She had asked him so
many times, receiving no answer as all he did was blush (and she did wonder why
he blushed at innocent contact and conversation, but not by gazing at a naked
woman for hours).
It didn't mean she'd stop trying though.
"Hey, Toshiro-kun," she called, making him sigh and pause mid-stroke before
peeking around the canvas with an annoyed glare. She smiled, shifting a bit to
try and get some blood back into her arms. "Why won't you let me help you with
whatever's troubling you? I'm sure there's something I can do!"
Whatever double-meaning she had was intentional, and he knew it, by the pink
dusting his cheeks. Her smile widened.
"No, there's nothing you can do Matsumoto. You're not an artist; this is my
problem," he snapped, the harsh tone of his voice making her blink in surprise.
He had been annoyed before, but now…what had made him this mad?
"Toshiro?"
He sighed, putting the brush down to run a stained hand through his white hair,
leaving streaks of colors behind that she found absolutely adorable. He decided
not to mention them now though, for the anger building in his eyes today was
shown in turmoil on his otherwise rather stoic face.
"I'm sorry Matsumoto, this is just so…so very frustrating!" he growled, sitting
down on his stool with a huff. She took this as a sign for a break, and slowly
sat up; wary of her stiff limbs as she slipped her legs off the couch to touch
bare feet against the chilly floor of his studio.
"I know something that might help, Toshiro!" she said with a smile, meeting his
skeptic gaze. "Trust me! Just close your eyes for a while, can you do that for
me?"
He looked doubtful, but after a moment of silence eying her smiles, he complied
with a sigh and a muttered "why not?". She grinned, titling her head as she
regarded his tense form.
"Now, I'm taking a wild guess on what's bothering you, but something isn't
turning out right, is it?" she continued, pausing for a confirmation. He
nodded, muttering curses under his breath. "Alright, so, picture that something
then. Not what you've painted, but what you've seen. What you want it to look
like. Just imagine it for a while."
When no objections came, she figured he was at least trying. She sat watching
him for several moments, enjoying the silence and his handsome features. Not
even trying to imagine what it was he actually thought about, she occupied
herself with imagining what his hair would feel like between her fingers. He
was short though – just barely nose to nose with her – so if she'd hug him, she
was sure it would tickle her cheek delightfully. A heavy, defeated sigh
interrupted her musings and she found herself staring into a pair of softening,
teal eyes.
"Did it work?" she asked, smiling. "You aren't mad anymore, are you?"
"That was your intention?" he asked, amused as well as surprised. "I thought
you were going to help me with the painting, hm?"
Giggling, she shrugged. "I kinda did though, didn't I? It's hard to solve
problems when you're distracted by your frustration of not being able to solve
them easily, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he sighed, running a hand through his hair again, briefly looking away
from her gaze to study his feet. A few more moments of silence passed before he
spoke up again. "Hey, Matsumoto…can I…can I look closer at something?"
His blush was darker than before, and she suspected it had something to do with
having to ask for help. But his question threw her off more than she'd
anticipated. She had no qualms about it, but he had never…ever…wanted to be
'closer' to anything. It meant risk for contact.
Shaking her head mentally, she scolded herself for assuming he wanted to get
that close. He only ever admired her on a distance, even if he looked like he
wanted to take a few more steps before stopping sometimes.
Sending him a soothing smile, she nodded. "Of course! Shall I lie back down?"
"No!" he replied quickly, shooting up from his stool, making her raise a brow
in question. He was acting really…nervous? Clearing his throat, he started to
walk towards her with long strides, the only sign of his hesitation showing in
his expressive eyes. "Just stay there."
She obeyed; titling her head back slightly to hold his gaze as he finally came
to a stop before her. He swallowed, dropping down to one knee so he was closer
to her face. "Yes, you just…stay just like that…"
She was quite sure her heart was skipping more beats than considered healthy,
and for a moment, she wondered if he could notice the way her breathing was so
quick and short. He was inches away now though, so close it would be impossible
for him not to notice, and it was torture.
"Toshiro," she breathed, not caring how breathless she sounded. He swallowed
again, eyes briefly leaving hers to gaze at her lips before returning.
"I can't seem to get your eyes right," he mumbled, slightly dazed. She fought
the urge to slip her hands into his hair and close the gap between their lips,
wanting to know what he was doing…where this was going.
"They're blue," she said, quietly. "With a bit of grey, I suppose."
"No." He raised a hand to gently place fingers against her plump lower lip.
"They're beautiful."
And then he gripped her chin, leaned in, and kissed her so softly she wanted to
scream. Before she could do much else other than gasp, he was already slowly
breaking it off to hover inches from her tingling lips, staring at her with
such a helpless expression her anger was replaced by puzzlement.
"Are you alright? Toshiro?"
"I can't resist you," he said, sounding so resigned she would've laughed had
the situation been less serious.
"Whatever made you think you had to?" she whispered, making him grin before
leaning back to give them more space.
"I was wrong," he began. "You can help me with this, Matsumoto. Just let me
look into your eyes for a moment…"
She sighed, confused. Hesitantly raising a hand to cup his cheek, pausing
inched from contact, she held his gaze steadily. When he leaned into her enough
to close the gap, she smiled.
"I thought you said I couldn't help," she said. "I'm no artist, after all!"
He blushed, but didn't pull away from her touch, eying her lips for a while.
"No, you're not an artist Matsumoto."
Pausing, he flashed her a crooked smile that made her bite her lip as it
tingled.
"You are art."
***** Bubble Bath *****
It had been a long day. The stacks underneath the couch that had become so
familiar over the decades seemed impossibly taller; he knew they weren't, or
else they wouldn't have fit underneath. Then again, Matsumoto was nothing if
not creative, and he would not put it past her to invent some way of stuffing
more paperwork under there than reality would allow. Nevertheless, it took up
most of his morning well into the evening, and the rounds he had planned to
take were put off significantly. It was an occurrence he had become adjusted
to, however, and any plans of the day that were dependent on how much paperwork
he had to do was in essence flexible, due to his rather unpredictable
lieutenant. So once he was able to do leave his office, he didn't feel as
pressured, annoyed or stressed as he remembered with a slight twitch of
amusement from his earlier days of command.
He went about his rounds with his usual efficiency, this time only alert to the
usual risk of incident where he visited; the lower ranking officers' offices,
the training grounds and, for a brief delayed supper, the mess hall. He felt
rather relaxed; only Matsumoto ever managed to turn normalcy upside down with a
snap of her fingers, and he had been quite sure she was somewhere in the 8th
division, or off visiting a pub, thus nowhere near his own whereabouts that
day. Though it still left her roaming in his mind, it was nothing new; Toshiro
had resigned himself to the fact that this woman demanded his attention whether
she was present or not.
After his brief inspection of his proudly well-run division – in strong
comparison to its neighbor, the 11th – he had run into his first seat, whom
brought him some urgent reports on supplies. Apparently, the lieutenant had
been rather impossible to locate. Toshiro didn't bother pointing out that
trying to pin-point her reiatsu would be the safest bet, since he was (he
thought, rather possessively) the only one familiar enough with it to get a
hint of her spiritual imprint if she had chosen to hide it. Taking care of the
report, which only took a few moments of skimming through the content and
signing his name, he had returned to his office and looked to see if there was
anything left to deal with. One glance at the time had told him his brief
inspection had perhaps not been so brief, because it was well past 21:00.
Closing up, he had wondered for a moment if Matsumoto would be back, before
closing his eyes and expanding his senses until he found the bright, flaring
essence of his lieutenant where he had hoped it would be. Now wasting little
time, for he was tired and it had indeed been a rather long day without the
distraction of his second in command, Toshiro set upon returning to his
quarters. The soft light of lanterns and candles greeted him as he slid his
door open and stepped inside, noting the discarded outer layer of uniform
marring his otherwise impeccable floor. Oddly comforted by the sight, when mess
would usually make his bristle, he bent to pick it up; fondly stroking the
rough fabric between his fingers as he breathed in the heady perfume underneath
the smoke and alcohol which betrayed her activities of the day.
Moving further inside as he had smelled his fill, he picked up the sounds of
someone moving around in the bathroom. He casually let her uniform slip back to
the floor, allowing a moment of satisfaction of the sight of it simply being
there, and moved towards it. Distractingly, he hoped she had drawn a bath so he
might join, even though he didn't like the scalding temperature she preferred.
The pros of simply sinking into her embrace after a day such as this outweighed
the cons of overheating. The wall of steam hitting him as he slid open the
bathroom door didn't alter his opinion, but he drew on his reiatsu just a bit
to mollify at least the air entering his lungs.
He let his eyes begin their search on the floor – since no noise outside of
calm breathing had acknowledged his entrance – Toshiro spotted the rest of her
uniform spread across the room, apart from her pink scarf. Intrigued, he
finally gave in to his initial desire and turned his gaze towards the tub. It
had been years since he was surprised or startled by the sight, but he found
that the awe and sudden surge of intense arousal and sometimes embarrassingly
tender affection had never waned.
She had a way of displaying herself, which he knew to not always be
intentional. Having fallen asleep, she was now sprawled comfortably in the bath
with her long, slender legs resting bent both to one side of the tub and her
head nestled in the comfortable accessory she had bought on a trip to the
living world which cradled her neck and supported her head as a specially
formed pillow attached to the tub's edge. It made his breath hitch and his eyes
darken as he unconsciously took a step closer, admiring the way she had tied up
her hair messily with her trusted scarf, leaving several damply curled locks to
frame her slender neck and beautiful face, now flustered a reddish pink hue
from the heat just as the rest of her exposed skin.
Moving closer still, Toshiro carefully bent down by the tub's side and rested a
hand on her upraised knee closer to his grasp. He let his thumb absently
massage the damp skin gently, hooded eyes observing as she stirred from her
light slumber into a more desirable state of wakefulness. He felt a smug
satisfaction, tempered by a humbled affection, at the fact that his spiritually
strong presence – even when he was suppressing it to less obvious levels –
alerted her, but provided a comfort that allowed her to stay relaxed and
vulnerable.
Her eyes were beautiful when unfocused and blurry with sleep, but as
recognition sparked and she blinked to bring clarity to her gaze he found that
in this moment, he preferred the pleased, playful twinkle which made her eyes
shine corn blue instead of resembling a silver mist.
"Welcome home, Captain," she purred; voice deep and thick with sleep. A twinge
of annoyance that she had allowed herself to fall asleep in a tub filled with
water, alone, came unbidden and he ignored it in favor of answering her
greeting with a much longed-for kiss. She could handle herself; drowning in a
tub because she fell asleep was unlikely.
"I brought home some of your paperwork I didn't manage to finish before my
rounds. You're welcome to them, lieutenant," he mumbled against her lips, just
to hear her gasp in horror as he stood and took a step back.
"You're not serious, are you, Toshiro?" she scowled, sitting up and resting
against the tub's edge to gaze up at him with an annoyed pout. He crossed his
arms; glad he hadn't taken the time to remove his uniform despite the choking
heat inside the room. It wouldn't do for her to see how affected he already
was; the opportunities to tease her like this was not to be lost. They never
lasted more than a few moments.
"I wasn't able to leave my office until 21.40 thanks to the stacks of paper
underneath the couch," he chided, sincerely this time, pausing to make sure she
knew he was serious before he relaxed a bit and let a smirk quirk his lips. "So
naturally, you would have to make up for it."
The pout at transformed into a wide, playful grin somewhere half-way through
his lecture; shamelessly pleased. As he fell silent, she raised herself from
the water and leaned forward to grab a hold of his uniform; dragging him closer
until his legs bumped the side of the bath.
"I know something better than paperwork for that, Captain," she murmured,
gazing up at him through her thick lashes, the blue of her eyes having darkened
to match the sultry sound of her voice. He let his eyes roam, taking in her
naked form now less than half-way covered in milky water and steam. Her nipples
perked at his interest, and his eyelids lowered slightly in pleasure as her
grip of his uniform tightened.
"I have no doubt you do, Rangiku," he mumbled, raising a hand to comb it
through her messy locks and undoing the loosely tied scarf as he did. He
secured it in his grip to prevent it from falling into the water, and raised it
to catch a whiff of her fruity shampoo that reminded him of watermelon and
flowers baking in summer heat. He briefly considered capturing the hands
conveniently gripping his haori next to each other with the scarf and tying
them together – rending her desirably trapped – but soon discarded the idea for
a later date in favor of letting her hands travel to more urgent places.
"You know, it isn't polite to sneak a peek at a woman bathing, Toshiro, didn't
anyone ever tell you that?" she mockingly scolded, simultaneously untying his
uniform swiftly and sneaking her hands inside his hakama to successfully push
it down to the floor and leaving only his upper-body fully clothed. Still in
fundoshi but already shrugging out of his haori and the rest of his clothing,
he raised a brow.
"Since you are my woman, I hardly think that it applies," he pointed out, now
joining her eager hands in the process of undoing his underwear. She grinned
cheekily, but applied her lips to his exposed stomach instead of answering. He
didn't mind, humming in approval as his hands finally strayed to her fine, silk
hair again as fabric loosened enough to fall down to the floor leaving in
completely naked. The hot, humid air in the room seemed less restricting now,
and he allowed himself a sigh as he felt her tongue trace the lines of his
muscles. Capturing her face with his hands on her cheek, he raised her as he
bent down to place a soft kiss on her plump lips, earning himself a pleased
moan for his efforts.
"Get in here," she breathed against him as he pulled away to nibble on her
lower lip and place butterfly kisses along her jaw. He obeyed easily,
momentarily letting her go as she made room for him. He slipped beneath the
still hot water, settling himself against the short end of the tub and
motioning for her to join. She breathed a happy giggle as she slid into a
straddling position over his hips and placing him tantalizingly close to her
impressive bust. Leaning in, he licked some moisture off of them, enjoying the
taste of her skin and the sound of her breathy, deep voice.
"How may I please you, Captain, and repay my debt?" she asked with a playful
tilt of her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her chest
against his. Placing his hands on the familiar curve of her hips, he kissed her
again. He was not verbal during sex, as she had pointed out several times, much
to his sometimes embarrassment. However, he believed she talked his share and
more; the only way for silence was to engage her mouth elsewhere. Grinning, he
did just that; delving his tongue past her soft lips to trace the ridged roof
of her mouth, the smooth expand of her teeth and the wicked twist of her
tongue. Her moans, and whimpers, he had no desire to silence. Those he
encouraged, it was her wit he sought to destroy. An incoherent, moaning and
wanton Rangiku was enough to make him forget there was anything but her
relevant for existence.
His hands slipped around her hips, cupping her bottom gently as he steered it
closer to his slowly rocking hips. The wet slide of their sexes in the hot
water made him shudder in exquisite pleasure, and even more so when he felt the
sharp bite on his lip as she responded by grinding hard against him and sending
a minor shockwave of water crashing against the tub's wall. His hands found
themselves seeking out her rosy nipples, hard for him, as she took over the
slow but hard thrusts between them without his assistance. Squeezing them
between forefingers and thumbs, he rolled them painfully before flattening his
thumbs against them gently to soothe. She broke their kiss to leave a nibbling
trail of kisses and bites down his throat, settling by the juncture of shoulder
and neck to lick and nuzzle as she lifted her hips in invitation. Instantly, he
grabbed his now achingly hard member to help guide as she slowly lowered
herself; the long, heavy sigh of enjoyment blowing cold air against his overly
heated skin. He shivered and speeded up the process by bucking his hips firmly;
squeezing her generous breasts in silent approval as she met him half-way and
groaned.
"I can't get enough of you, Toshiro," she whispered, hugging him and giving his
neck a last lick before she leaned back and arched her back; pressing down
before moving up and starting rhythm that was painfully slow and equally
sensual. He titled his head back, leaning heavily against the tub and breathing
hard. Her hands were on his chest now, mirroring his own as she played with his
nipples and mapped his chest with fingers and nails. The water sloshed around
them, flooding the floor and leaving the bath emptier by the minute. He did not
mind, the cooling water and slowly receding steam making the temperature near
bearable. He was sure he unconsciously helped it along, but he was in no state
to care; his blood felt thick in his veins, the strain in his muscles
disappeared entirely and he felt the dull thud of arousal increase steadily in
his lower back and stomach; occasionally spiking so intense he had to gasp for
breath or moan approvingly as she continued to move above him; mumbling words
under her breath, filthy desires and endearing praise.
"I've been thinking about you all day, tried to drown it out, you had work I
was with Momo and even then—oh yes-even then I couldn't stop myself-" she
breathed, the fast string of words momentarily registering in his mind and he
growled, not very eager to hear of the company she had kept today, especially
not Momo's, when they were doing this and her mind should be solely on him, as
his had been on her, so many, many times.
Hand behind her neck, he jerked her down to catch her mouth and swallow her
words, basking in the surrender she offered as she moaned and melted against
him; his hips finally taking a more active role as hers slowed in her
distraction. Thrusting hard, he picked up the pace and marveled at the music
she filled his ear with. She drove him crazy, sometimes, when she let
out those noises as she stretched, or put in her mouth a finger burnt on tea
she spilt in her haste. They were so closely associated with this; this
pleasure, this raw dance of emotion and need and oh yes-
He loved it when she was so far gone that her voice simply failed her, and that
lovely mouth hung open in silent praise as she arched against him. Sharp,
perfect nails dug into his shoulders as she shook and gasped above him, sending
shockwaves of pleasure up his spine as he drove home a bit harder, a bit
faster, a bit more out of control. She was still dazed when he finally
stiffened and brought her close; desperate to hold onto something as the world
shattered in that breath-taking, intoxicating way only she could provoke.
"I love you," she whispered against his damp hair, caressing his free cheek as
he had his other pressed against her neck and shoulder. Slowly, his breathing
returned to normal and he let her sweet touch and adoration wash over his tired
mind and body. It had been a long day, and the mess they'd made would no doubt
be a pain to clean up.
However, at this time, he found he didn't care.
"I love you too."
***** Flower of Death *****
The smell takes him by surprise. It's sweet and feminine, like flowers or candy
or both. It throws him off because it doesn't belong here. It's late, late
enough for filth and monsters to be crawling out from their shadows and allies.
This part of town stinks of death and alcohol; the sour scents of bodily fluids
and metal and the exhaust of the city. Toshiro shouldn't be out, but he's got a
grandmother who's sick and this place is open 24/7 and will sell her
cold medicine without fuss as long as he's got the money. He's a kid and he
looks like trouble, hair spiked and leached of colour and eyes of a foreigner.
But that smell, it doesn't belong either, but when he looks around the dingy
store for its source he's not sure what he'd expected but the young woman with
her bobbed hair and low-cut top and high-ridden leather skirt wasn't
it. She certainly seemed to belong, the tell-tale slump in her body speaking of
the weariness of street girls if her clothes and make-up hadn't already given
her away. She looks Western; taller than the average Japanese woman even
without her heels, and that's not to mention her blonde hair and blue eyes.
She's twirling a lock of short, maybe-a-wig, maybe-a-too-good-dye-job hair
around a thin finger decorated with sharp, red nails while popping a pink gum
and licking bloody lips. Toshiro stares for long moments, trying to fit the
whore with the girly scent of summer he'd caught in the air and failing.
It's the first clue she doesn't really belong at all, despite how well she'd
blended in. He isn't used to be caught off guard but the next few minutes have
him utterly unprepared and it's only instinct that keeps him from making an
utter fool of himself.
He's by the check-out with a bag of chips and slightly less-than-legal medicine
(drugs) when it happens. The teller isn't paying Toshiro much attention, eyes
dead to the world and movements mechanical and he hands him his receipt. He's
just snagged the cheap plastic bag with his the chips and medicine when there's
someone slamming his head down against the counter so hard he's too dizzy to
fight back, barely making out the words that are shouted. Everything's a blur
but he can sense the danger, there's a gun somewhere and he notes that it's
probably a robbery and whoever's pinning him to the counter is desperate
because he hadn't waited for Toshiro to leave the shop before he'd lunged for
the cashier.
He doesn't quite think it through, but he's grown up around these parts, and
he's got the kind of looks that gets him into trouble by simply existing, so
it's really more of a reflexive reaction than any calculated move. He dislodges
his attacker with a sharp elbow and swift sweep of his leg; it throws him off
enough for a distraction but he's clearly motivated by desperation or drugs or
both and Toshiro isn't strong enough yet to get up and close with that kind of
strength, especially not with a possible head injury.
But the robber is hauled away from him and swung in an impressive flip to the
floor; gun gone from his hands and pressed to his skull by dainty hands and a
sharp, fish-net clad knee digs into his spine.
The whore's incapacitated the thug within moments, leaving the teller
scrambling for the phone and Toshiro to sink down to the floor with the counter
as support for his back. He's too dizzy to stand yet, and he's watching the
woman warily as she keeps the thug from breaking free despite his struggles. It
takes her about two seconds to get tired of his bullshit before she's slammed
his head with the butt of the gun and rendered him unconscious.
"You got the cops?" she asks the teller, who's cowering behind him. Toshiro
assumes he nods. "Good. I'll keep an eye on him 'til they get here." She looks
over at him then. "You ok, kiddo?"
He bristles. "Not a kid," he bits out, although it's a lie. He forces himself
to stand under the amused scrutiny of the whore and ignores the queasy feeling
in his stomach as his head spins.
"You shouldn't be moving around yet, that was quite the blow to your head," she
points out, getting up from the unconscious man on the floor to crowd into
Toshiro's space. Her hands are gentle against the bump on his head but he
flinches back all the same, glaring. She tuts. "Well doesn't look like you'll
die, just some probable brain damage. You've got good moves though, kid."
He glares some more, shrugging, and looks for the bag he'd dropped when slammed
into the counter. He picks it up and shifts uneasily where he stands. He wants
to leave before the cops arrive but he doesn't need to attract more trouble by
leaving a crime scene with two witnesses and a security camera. "Not a kid," he
repeats, for lack of a better response.
"Perhaps not," she concedes. "Not in this part of town. But still." She's eying
him like she's considering something, and he steels himself for whatever it is.
She doesn't look like a pimp, though obviously she's got a hidden, lethal
strength and there's little trace of the weary and defeated body language he'd
observed earlier.
This woman is standing tall, confident, and she's taking up all the space. He
couldn't imagine her bending over for anyone, which makes him fight down a
blush because she's still fairly close and her impressive cleavage is almost at
his eye-level. He's grown up around filth and he knows more about sex than he
wants, but it's never been like this; a sharp tug in the pit of his stomach and
blood rushing to his cheeks.
"Here," she says, ignoring his sudden shyness to fish out a card from her bra.
"Take this and go home. I saw you browsing the medicine; you've got the look of
having someone waiting for you."
He's about to point out the cops when he read the card. "Oh," he breathes,
looking from the neatly printed text to the woman before him. Definitely
doesn't belong here, not in the context he'd been assuming.
Officer Rangiku Matsumoto. Shit.
She winks at him. "Disguise. I like to prowl the old neighborhood. Sometimes I
pick up strays." She gives him a meaningful look. "You've got good moves and
street smarts. I've heard about you, ice-boy. Quite the reputation around these
parts. Contact me if you want to make something good out of it."
He leaves in a daze that's not entirely to be blamed on the clotting wound on
the side of his head.
A month later he's enrolled in the police academy, his early graduation from
high school with perfect grades only enough because of the recommendation from
Captain Ichimaru on behalf of officer Matsumoto. Over the next few years he
learns who that woman was that picked him up that night. They call her the
Flower of Death but he remembers her scent and it was sweet, like flowers, but
nothing like death. She burns bright and brighter as he rises in rank, leaving
ashes behind, and he follows her closely despite himself. He forces himself
through the academy, cold and calculating, another type of burn entirely.
The day he becomes Captain Hitsugaya, youngest in the history of the
department, he's got a name of his own. The Iceman, they call him, and he's
another kind of ruthless than his deadly deceiving lieutenant.
"Congratulation, Captain," she grins at him, lips a shiny pink that matches her
nails. Her hair's longer, up in a messy bun. She's in a wrinkled, partly
unbuttoned white shirt and knee-length black skirt. Her shoes are sensible
flats but she's still tall, her legs going on for miles, and he feels almost as
small as he'd done the first time standing next to her. But he's taller now,
filled out. He's Captain and stands proud. They'll go down in history, she
says. He doesn't doubt her.
***** I Got You Babe *****
"Well," she says, trying hard not to laugh, "This is unusual."
The dragon hisses in warning, baring his teeth and making the air bristle with
chill. Rangiku suppresses her urge to shift in response to the flair of power
and the cold. Her fur would protect her from the latter but her teeth and claws
would do little against this beast, young as he may be.
"Not every day a dragon gets stuck in one of these," she continues, as if he
hadn't made her hackles rise, gesturing vaguely at the trap keeping him
prisoner. It's mage-made and done well, intermitting swirls, circles and other
old symbols littering the ground, strong and ancient magic giving off a faint
glow. It's what had drawn her here.
Her kind is renowned for its curiosity.
"Tell you what," she says after a few more moments of angry hissing and ice-
cold glares. "I'll get you out, if you give me a ride."
Dragons are an old and honorable species. They work best with favors and
bargains and bribes. They're greedy, and possessive, but honorable. This one is
young, but Rangiku recognizes pride when she sees it; her own kind is full of
themselves as well. Along with vanity and superiority, the two species had a
lot in common. She's weary of it herself, but she wouldn't have gotten this far
in life without keeping up appearances. Blend in and live or stick out and die,
it's worked for her so far.
The dragon eyes her for a few moments before nodding his consent. Rangiku
grins, all sharp teeth, and flexes her hands as she grown claws. A few swipes
at the symbols and the magic current is broken, spell lifted. The dragon flexes
before her and spreads his wings, inviting her up on his back. She moves
gracefully and climbs him easily; he's small for his kind but still big enough
to carry her. His scales are cold and sleek under her and she feels the coiled
strength underneath. One, two flaps and he's kicked them off the ground. It's
easy to hold on and she leans comfortably against him.
"Take me beyond the mountains," she tells him. "I'm going to the City."
If he's surprised, he doesn't show it, simply slices through the air in the
direction she's pointed him. Laughing, she throws her head back and howls.
.
When he touches down on the ground outside the woods standing between them and
the City, Rangiku jumps off with swift and easy movements. The dragon shifts to
a form matching her own humanoid appearance. He's short and looks even younger,
hair spiky and white like snow. The eyes are the same cold teal, his ears
slightly pointy and teeth a bit too sharp.
She barely refrains from cuddling the shit out of him, but just barely.
She ends up mussing his hair instead, jumping out of the way to avoid longing
her hand as he snaps his jaws at her with a growl. "Okay, okay!" she giggles,
hands up in a pacifying manner before clasping them behind her back and swaying
on the balls of her feet. "So, wanna come with me? I hear the City's the best
this time of the year!"
He eyes her again, but doesn't reply, simply turns and heads towards the road
leading through the woods. Rangiku pumps her first in victory before skipping
ahead and falling into step next to the grumpy little dragon she'd adopted.
Well, he doesn't know he's been adopted.
Yet.
.
It takes three days before she learns his name. It's the first thing he's said
that wasn't a growl or a hiss or a sigh or a grunt. Meanwhile, she's been
talking almost constantly. She hasn't had anyone to talk to (or, well, at) for
so long that she sometimes forgets herself and lets the odd things slip. Like
Gin, and the old hut they used to share. Like the thrill of climbing the Eagle
Mountain, or the terror of navigating the Forest of Mist without getting lost.
She tells him about the Desert of Ash, the Cursed Swamps and Moors of the
Marooned. She's travelled wide and far and she's seen a lot. She makes it sound
fun, most of the time. She focuses on the silly stuff, like the ghoul hosting a
tea party on the moors or the werewolf who liked dressing in pink kimonos and
danced for an audience of frogs by a creek. It's in the middle of her re-
telling of the epic prank-wars the caravan of foxes she travelled with for a
while had staged that her dragon companion speaks up for the first time.
"Hitsugaya," he says. Rangiku takes it in stride, nods, and continues because
it's a seriously funny story and she'd managed to color their peltsgreen with
those bars of soap. The dragon looks as confused and dazed as he always did
when she was messing with his expectations. She'd figured it out early on,
enjoyed the surprise and simmering frustration coming off of him. He couldn't
figure her out, for all that she talked more than she breathed. But that was
okay.
"Matsumoto," she'd offered later that day, handing him a plate of dumplings
with a small smile that was less blinding than her usual grins but more genuine
than she'd let slip for a while.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him smiling back, just a little bit.
.
Before she knows it, almost two months had gone by. Hitsugaya had, against all
odds, stayed. She'd dragged him all over the capital, exploring. It'd been so
long since she'd been in civilization and she was drinking it in greedily; the
life bustling around her was different from that of an old mountain or young
forest. There were people of all species, here. Some still at odds but most
united by trade and business and the simple fact that they lived behind the
same walls with the same laws and neighbors.
Hitsugaya had made little protest when she'd found them their lodgings. They
were supposed to be temporary, but the old witch they rented from had taken one
look at the dragon and, Rangiku thinks, that was that.
It was becoming increasingly harder to curb the urge to crush the dragon to her
chest in a crushing hug but she'd settles for grabbing hold of whatever she
could reach and drag him wherever she wanted. He gave up trying to resist and
warn her off after the first week and by now he barely grumbled and never
flinched at contact.
Still, his face was priceless when the old witch pinched his cheeks and offered
him sweets while fussing. "Your hair is getting a bit long, dear," she'd tutted
and that had been it, Rangiku couldn't be blamed.
She laughed so hard she cried.
.
His first name is Toshiro.
She only learns this when they bump into the royal guard and a little girl not
much older than the dragon screams it out for the whole square to hear.
The fury she feels causes her to shift half-way, her fangs and claws flashing
and tail twitching. The girl bears the sigil of the royal guard and she's a
mage. Even the stupidest of human knows there is too much power in a name to
take it lightly.
A dragon would be so easy to bring to its knees with the proper knowledge.
She's reminded on the trap she broke him out of and it chills her to the bone.
She thanks whatever deity there is that the girl hadn't revealed his last name
as well.
.
Rangiku spends five days completely shifted and roaming the streets after Momo
Hinamori spotted them in the square. She was an old childhood friend, Hitsugaya
had explained. Rangiku had grinned, saying, "Childhood friend? You're barely
out of childhood as it is, baby dragon!". Her tease had been slightly harsher
this time but she's allowed to be bitter. She'd left him confused and
frustrated, as she tended to do, telling him to catch up with the girl. She'd
find something to occupy herself with, in the meanwhile.
As soon as he'd left she'd shifted and run off, refusing to acknowledge the
terror shaking her bones and sharpening her senses. She hunts; she seeks out
her own kind and buries herself in fur that's warmer and softer than the scales
of her dragon would ever be. Her scent mingled with the City's in a way she
hadn't allowed before, making her blend in and disappear.
She didn't dare go looking for him, but wasn't surprised when he found her, in
the end.
.
He picked her up by the scruff and yanked her roughly out of the sunny spot on
the roof of a downtown shack. Her feline form isn't small, but it isn't exactly
big either; just large enough to rest her paws on his shoulders if she stood on
her hind legs. She lets out an enraged yowl, teeth flashing, because she lost
the extra baby scruff a lifetime ago and his grip is far from gentle. She
shifts back and tried to dislodge his hold of her neck but he simply shakes her
and growls, dragging her with him as he leaps off the roof and marches her
home.
She's no match to his strength, not when taken off guard like this with her
mind unsettled and confused.
He doesn't speak until they're back in their rooms (den, he called it once, and
she'd laughed for almost an hour).
"You stink," he growled, pushing her down on her futon and pinning her there
with his smaller frame. She squirms, frustration rising as she fails to
comprehend the situation. He's breathing her in and the air is freezing around
them, a sharp opposite of the warm afternoon sun she'd been basking in not long
ago.
She missed it, and she's got no idea what to do with that, because she's fire
and ash and she's never enjoyed the cold and its deadly bite.
"You stink of alcohol and blood and others," he rumbles, voice deeper than the
childish curves of his face implies. "You disappeared for days."
"Aww, did you miss me, baby dragon?" she purrs, falling back on the easy,
flirty teasing. He's always hated it, so always does it when they're arguing
and she's riling him up even more.
His grip tightens until her bones creak in his hands wrapped around her wrists,
hissing. "You're mine."
Dragons are notoriously possessive but cats hate being kept. She's no exception
so she ignores the tight feeling in her chest and bucks beneath him, strength
returning. Refusing to think why she hadn't attempted to get away sooner,
Rangiku shifts and twists free in her smaller form, swiping at him with claws
and biting down hard on his arm and he retaliates.
She fights him with all the fear and anger and hurt that's been plaguing her
since his name echoed across a crowd and he turned to greet it with a soft,
trusting smile. She bites and claws and thinks of how easy he turned his back
and walked away. How he'd left her watching yet another back, how he'd forced
her to realize how lost she's become, and far she's fallen. How vulnerable she
is.
He doesn't fight back. He takes her blows and shields her, tries to protect her
from her own desperation, until she's got no energy left and slumps down
defeated in his grip, shifted back to human. He's panting by the end of it,
cradling her close to his chest, and she hears his heart beating fast and hard
against her.
"Mine," he mumbles, face buried in her hair, lips brushing the tip of her ear.
The scratches and bite marks she's left behind are already healing, as are the
bruises on her skin from his relentless grip. "Hinamori is an old friend.
Family. She made her choice, I made mine. I didn't come here for her; I didn't
stay here for her. You gave me yourself; you're not allowed to take it back.
You're mine."
She shakes her head, whispering breathlessly in reply. "You don't know what
that would mean. You're too young."
Stubbornly, he crushes his lips against her and it's clear he has little if no
experience but she can't help but gasp at the sensation. But it's wrong, she
feels so old, and she's no one's but her own. She adopted him, not the other
way around and oh lord he's still a child, barely past her shoulders. She tells
him all this against his lips, pressing in and off against her in
determination, but he growls deep in his chest and continues down her jaw until
he's buried her face in the crook of her neck. He's breathing cold puffs of air
against the sensitive skin behind her ear with his nose, lips resting against
the side of her throat.
"You saved me and trusted my word. You talked and you talked. You accepted my
name, you gave me yours. You fed me and I you. You've slept beside me without
fear or malice," he murmurs after a while, his weight steadying and warmer than
she's used to. "You gave that to me. I'm not giving it back."
After a few moments, she gives in, because it's true and she's never been very
good at lying to herself. "Okay," she says, tugging her hands free from his
grip, gently, and sliding them around his back to press him closer still. Her
chest hurts at the weight but she ignores it, rolling them over to their sides.
"But no more," she adds, talking over his displeased growling that rises from
his throat in warning. "Not yet."
Disgruntled, he agrees for now. She knows it won't last, because dragons are
greedy, and it won't take long before he's pushing again. For now though, she's
content to soak in the comfort of her dragon while he replaces the scent of the
City's back allies with his own.
***** I Got A Woman *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Everyone on campus knows who Rangiku Matsumoto is. That's what Toshiro
discovers on his first day at University and that's what sets the tone for his
freshman year because no one face-plants in Matsumoto's boobs without
consequences. He's learned that she either gives you a black eye or smothers
you until you're moments from passing out, and leaves you with to the mob of
violently jealous boys (and girls) to be dealt with as they'd see fit.
For Toshiro, it's an accident, because he couldn't give two shits about a
blonde, airheaded bitch on the best of days and wouldn't molest anyone no
matter how much skin they flaunted anyway. He's simply standing in the cue for
his daily caffeine fix, turning around a bit too abruptly after paying and
walking straight into the lethal airbags that woman calls breasts.
It almost knocks him on her ass, the amount of bounce they provide, and
definitely spills his tea down both their fronts.
Scalding hot, delicious tea wasted.
He's genuinely angry and frustrated for about two seconds before the pain
registers and he looks over to see the pained grimace of the woman he'd
collided with. People are scrambling to offer her napkins and cold drinks,
hands grabby and invasive, and that's when he learns what happens to those that
go after her on purpose.
Three men ends up with bleeding noses and one of them is from Toshiro's elbow
but he ignores the groans innocently and guides the woman away from the crowd,
handing her a couple of napkins to use herself while he mutters about being
late for class and makes half-hearted apologies for ruining her shirt (even if
it's not much to ruin).
He's a bit blinded by her smile and her hand is gentle on his shoulder and she
pats it. "It's no problem kid," she says and he bristles becauseseriously, "I
totally spaced out and didn't move away in time. Let me buy you a new cup of
tea, what do you say?"
At the time he had no fucking idea who she was apart from "Call me Rangiku" and
so simply shrugged because he really needed his tea and he'd be late for class
either way by then so he might as well. They ended up walking back to campus
together, her doing most of the talking. He admired her wit and he could
understand why she turned so many heads with a smile like that. He didn't
realize he'd agreed to have another cup of tea sometime until she'd walked away
leaving her phone number written on his takeaway cup.
He'd never been one for dating, it was an uncomfortable business, but he
couldn't help but feel slightly accomplished. He just had no idea what he'd
gotten himself into, and by the time he did, he couldn't find it in himself to
back away. He was never one for taking the easy way out, and Rangiku, he soon
found, was despite the rumors very, very far from easy.
Chapter End Notes
     Okay so I'm finally up to date with this story. All drabbles that
     were on FFNet are now posted here. Phew.
     Also, I realized as I re-posted that I'd numbered two drabbles with
     the same number twice, so on FFNet, the number of drabbles is
     actually one more than my numbering implies (wow that was a confusing
     explanation lol). WOPPS???? XD LOL.
***** There's a Hellcat in my Den *****
Chapter Summary
     Sequel to chapter 93, "I've Got You Babe".
Chapter Notes
     This is from Toshiro's PoV and he's rather possessive, just a heads
     up. He's still quite young, though not a child. I don't specify ages
     in this 'verse because it's an AU where they're not even human so
     there's different rules. But in my head, Toshiro is was equals as a
     17 years old teenager. The age of consent in Sweden is 15, so it's
     not underage for me, but well. Just a heads up. As for Rangiku, I
     place her in her 20's, around 25.
Toshiro regards her where she’s sprawled on the roof, content with simply
watching her for now. It’s quite a pleasing sight; she’s in her feline form,
all sleek lines and glossy fur. The strawberry blonde of her hair makes for a
lush, thick coat in her current form, gleaming almost golden in the sunlight
she’s soaking up like a dried up sponge would water.
Her eyes are closed but he knows them better than his own. He has all their
shades memorized; stormy blue, cold steel, warm summer skies. Idly he wonders
what shade they are today but knows, with a deep and possessive satisfaction,
that he’ll have time and opportunity to find this out. The thought lends him
patience and he moves on to admire the pink of her nose, the twitching of her
pale whiskers. Her face has creamy markings, the same color of her soft paws
and silky underbelly. She’s a delightful blend of elegance and warmth, a
perfect distraction from her deadly claws that cut through steel, and sharp
fangs which could pierce even his own armor of scales should she wish it.
Matsumoto, he thinks, is one of his most prized possessions to date. It’s a
sentiment he’s adamant to convey in any way he can, until there is no doubt to
whom she belongs, from her or any other. He knows it grates at her, knows it
goes against her nature, and until she claims him fully in return it will be a
source of tension between them. They are similar creatures, though Matsumoto is
the freest feline he’s come across in his travels; not quite as painfully vain
and deceptive as her brothers and sisters. But she is independent, lazy and
very stubborn. It’s at times as annoying as it is satisfying.
She is also surprisingly honorable and wary, though, which is his current
problem. That she sees him as a child is frustrating, but that’s simply a
matter of time, of which he has plenty. The fact that she has yet to tell him
her full name, along with her stubborn resistance to their situation, however,
is incredibly vexing. Due to Hinamori’s lack of judgment, Toshiro knew
Matsumoto was in full possession of his name. This would perhaps be, had it
been anyone else than her, worrying. But he knew she wouldn’t let any harm come
to him, not with the way she’d provided for him and trusted him, letting him
into her life. He’s not allowed all the way in, though, and that more than
anything, is slowly driving him insane. The need to possess her is nearly
unbearable, his very being wired to own her properly. Her name, her history,
her body and heart were all his to protect and love.
He’ll conquer each in time, he knows, but he is impatient. He will have her
name first, and he will claim it.
The warm sound of Matsumoto’s purring breaks through his thoughts, making him
focus his stare. He eyes her paws as they clench and unclench, kneading against
the roof, and rises from his seated position. His tread is light and soundless
but she’s as aware of him as he is of her and he sees her ears twitch in
acknowledgement of his approach. Her eyes are slits of deep blue, taking in his
every move as he crouches by her side.
“It’s time,” he murmurs, burying his fingers in the fur of her flank, combing
through it gently. “Your name.”
She blinks, purring abruptly silenced as she tenses under his hand. He meets
her stare evenly, rumbling in satisfaction when she nods, rolling over to slink
up to nose underneath his chin. He enjoys her attentions as she rubs her furred
cheek against the skin of his neck, running a hand down the graceful slope of
her back to envelop her in his arms. Easily, she transforms in his embrace,
face buried in his shoulder while her claws dance along his back.
“Rangiku,” she whispers, a kiss of hot breath against his chilled skin. He
drags a hand up to bury in her hair, a tight hold of the back her head to steer
her out from the cradle of his body and tilt her face back and up for his
perusal.
“Matsumoto Rangiku,” he growls, satisfaction radiating off of him in chilly
waves of power. His little hellcat shivers in his grasp but merely snorts in
resigned amusement. He leans in to nip at her lips in retaliation, enjoying her
squeak of protest.
“Toshiro!”, she gasps. “I told you, I don’t think it’s a good idea to conti—“
He interrupts her with a proper kiss, the one thing she has conceded to him in
terms of physical affection since their first kiss those few weeks ago. He
takes whatever she gives, greedy and ready to push for more the moment she
wavers. He can tell she’s on shaky ground now, he feels utterly smug and all-
powerful to reduce this proud feline to such a quivering, lustful thing with
nothing but his mouth and hands. Slowly, he’s carving out a place for him in
her desire, to become the satisfaction of a good grooming, the temptation of
alcohol’s lack of inhibitions. Just like she has already done to him.
“Rangiku,” he repeats after breaking off the kiss, pausing only to lick along
her lips and savor the burst of flavor of them both. It leaves her mouth shiny,
already swollen and blushed a pretty dark pink, and he can’t help but dive in
for more; pulling her lower lip into his mouth to nibble and suck at, her purrs
and moans caressing his ears. It’s intoxicating.
“Toshiro, please,” she sighs once her mouth is free again, as he’s taken to
travel down her delicate neck, painting her throat in reds and purples. “We
can’t, not yet. But we will, I promise.”
He growls in frustration, but relents. He pets her sides, gentling his touches
into lazy caresses as he pulls her into his body, letting her settle in his lap
with his hands on her hips. She winds her arms around his neck and buries her
hands in his hair, allowing him to tuck his face into the warm cradle of her
neck and shoulder. He breathes her in, marveling as ever at the heat of her
against his own chill, as he seals his mouth over a patch of skin to suckle on.
She quivers in his hold, still calming down, but she’s purring and loose. She
smells like him, like them, and it’s extremely gratifying. It’s enough to calm
the raging surge of passion she invokes in him with a mere flutter of her
eyelashes and twitch of tail or mouth. The taste of her on his tongue as he
continues to feast on her neck further appeases him, though he knows that soon,
it won’t be enough. He will have to continue his hellcat’s reservations, a
pleasurable if frustrating endeavor, before she drives him completely out of
his mind.
“Baby dragon,” she says after a while, calling for his attention. He bites down
herd at the petname, a displeased growl vibrating low in his chest. She hisses
in response, tensing at the pain for a moment before relaxing with an amused
giggle. “We should head on down, it’s nearing dinnertime. The old witch will
miss us.”
“Hellcat,” he responds, parting with her skin reluctantly even as he leans back
to admire the necklace of marks he’s gifted her with. “Infuriating puss. Lazy
kitten. Idiot feline.”
She cuts him off with a huff and a kiss, a modest one, a simple peck on the
lips but enough to tempt him. He growls.
“All right, all right!”, she laughs, slinking out of his hold with just a
little resistance from him. “C’mon my dragon, the food is calling for me.”
He resists the urge to preen, rolling his eyes at her antics instead. Standing,
he winces and frowns. It takes some adjusting before he’s somewhat comfortable,
his body still thrumming with the desire to love her the way it yearns to. She
giggles, unapologetic, and leaps off the roof with admirable grace. He follows
with ease, unwilling to let her out of his sight for too long.
“Smells delicious!” she exclaims as they enter the house. Toshiro pauses to
take in a deep breath, savoring the scents that make up their den. The warm,
flowery scent of his feline mixed with his own sharp, spicy one. There’s the
old, safe scent of herbs and magic belonging to the witch as well, teasing in
at the edges of the overpowering mix of Toshiro and Rangiku. It’s at the moment
slightly covered by the scent of the spices of cooking wafting through the
house.
 “Yes, it does,” he agrees, moving to follow her making her way deeper inside.
         
Warm, crisp and safe. A den.
 
***** Spaceman *****
Chapter Summary
     She's been on the run for seven years. He's chased her for four. It's
     time he caught her.
     Sci-fi/space AU.
Chapter Notes
     Take BLEACH and drop it in Star Trek or Firefly. Though this is more
     inspired than a true AU of either, so no knowledge is needed. I
     enjoyed making this 'verse though! For some ungodly reason there is
     no smut, however. Well. There's a tease. Enjoy! :D
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                          Spiralem Vitae Galaxy, Alpha Quadrant
                    In the backwaters of the Rukon Sector, Asauchi Starbase III
                                                                               
“Seventy-five credits for a lousy shot of saké?!” she exclaimed, horrified.
This is what I get for slumming it, damn it.
“Pay up or get the fuck out,” the bartender drawled with a bored voice.
“Fine,” she gritted out through clenched teeth as she got out her card to chip
it. This place was far removed from the hustle and bustle of the  Seireitei
Sector , where the  Gotei 13  had their headquarters. It was where people made
a mostly honest living. Out here, in the far regions of  Central 46’s  sector
blocks, their starbases and colonies were much less supervised and supported.
It invited a much less savory fight for survival; scavengers, smuggler and
traders. On the rare occasions a  Gotei 13  ship came this way for ship
maintenance, crew transfers or simply trading, they mostly turned a blind eye
to the more questionable patrons of the base. A fact which Rangiku Matsumoto
had been counting on.
“Know where I can hitch a ride to  Gense?”  she asked casually after a few sips
of third-rate saké. The bartender glared, but nodded his head towards the
corner of the bar, where a ragtag group of merchants sat sipping what looked
like contraband spirits (that shade of black was distinctive of a Quadrant much
more hostile than this one).
Nodding her thanks, she downed what was left of her drink and made her way over
to the group of people huddled in the corner. She smiled, adjusted her top and
winked at the first man to look up at her approach.
“Hello fellows, you happen to know where a poor gal like me could hitch a ride
to  Gense?,”  she asked as charmingly as she could, coming to a stop by their
table and cocking her hip confidently. They were all Pulses, she noted, and all
men. Scars and missing teeth, a broken nose and discolored eyes spoke of their
way of life as well as anything around here.
“Can think of several places to fit you in, for the right price,” what looked
like the leader replied with a crooked grin. He leaned forward, elbows on the
table, and looked her over. “Giving that it’s in a whole other Quadrant, and a
rather restricted one at that...that price might be a mite high for a  poor
gal like yourself.”
Rangiku grinned. “Oh don’t you worry about that, gentlemen. I can pay. Now,
what say you?”
Leaning back, the leader narrowed his eyes. “Five thousand credits, and a
bonus  for my men here. They get lonely, you see,” he grinned. “What say  you,
little lady?”
Before she had the time to reply, the tell-tale frisson of  reishi  sparkled in
the air, going completely unnoticed by the group of Pulses. Moments later, the
shoddy bar was distinctly overcrowded.  Flash stepping, really? Drama Queens
and show-offs. Tsk.
“What  she  says matter little to what  I  have to say; you, Kamala Shree, and
your crew are under arrest for smuggling across the Boundaries, by way of
Central 46  law,” a too familiar, icy voice stated from behind her back.
Rangiku rolled her eyes and almost sighed in resignation before schooling her
expression and stepping aside to avoid getting caught in the chaos that
followed.
Kamala and his crew tried to flee, as did several occupants of the starbase’s
bar (including, unsurprisingly, the bartender). Unsuccessfully, of course,
because this was the infamous Tenth Division of the  Gotei 13,  led by the
uncompromising prodigy Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya.  
This didn't mean she didn't try to make a run for it as well, but
unfortunately, someone had taken a rather personal interest in her lately.
“You’re not going anywhere this time, Matsumoto,” Hitsugaya hissed in her ear,
having snatched her mid-run and pushed her firmly against the nearest wall, her
chest pressed against his.
“Oh dear me, seems like I’m caught! Were you sent out to clean out the garbage
again, little Captain?” she drawled, a bit breathless, and not only because he
was pinning her to a wall. He wasn’t so little anymore (tall enough for his hot
breath to be ghosting across her ear), but he still bristled at the title she
had given him so many years ago. Enough for a distraction.
She tested his grip by trying to drop and twist out of his hold, but he was
quick to follow. For her troubles, her arms were twisted behind her back and
she was slammed face-first into the wall. Hitsugaya pressed in close, his mouth
so close to her ear his lips brushed her skin, and she could feel the air
crackle with the ice of his temper.
“I chased you to the edge of our Quadrant, don’t think for a second I wouldn’t
hunt you beyond our Boundaries,” he whispered furiously. Leaning back, he
turned his head to address the men and women of his crew awaiting his orders.
“Take the offenders to the ship and lock then up in the brig. I will handle
Captain Matsumoto.”
Rangiku snorted. “Oh, you’ll  handle me,  will you, little Captain?”
“You’ve tested my patience enough, Matsumoto. I still have your ship. Behave
and you might just see her again,” he said, causing her to stiffen. Losing
Haineko  had been a blow she had yet to recover from and the bastard knew it.
His grip on her arms tightened, but she refused to wince. With a sharp jerk, he
dragged her away and into a flash step which had them by the docking station
between one blink and the next. Before them stood the infamous  Hyōrinmaru ,
one of  Gotei 13’s  best starships.
“Long time no seen,” Rangiku drawled, caught between dread, excitement and
nostalgia. Hitsugaya snorted, causing her to look at him over her shoulder. His
usually stoic features were twisted up into a smirk.
“Welcome aboard,  Captain,”  he murmured, voice no longer cold, and she barely
managed to suppress the shiver running down her back.  Damn it.
 
                                      oOo
 
                                          Spiralem Vitae Galaxy, Alpha Quadrant
                                           Travelling through the Rukon Sector,
                                                           Starship  Hyōrinmaru
 
His quarters hadn’t changed much since last she had been aboard the  Hyōrinmaru
, though the circumstances were vastly different. Seven years ago, she had been
on the  Gotei 13  payroll. Now, she was a freelancer trying very hard to avoid
her former employer. Not that it was a long-time goal she had succeeded with,
and while seven years were but a moment in their lifespans, it  was  a lot when
the Captain of the Tenth Division was on your tail. Never let it be said
Shinigamis don’t hold grudges.
“Sit,” Hitsugaya ordered briskly, indicating she settle down by the table he
kept for entertaining company in private. They had shared many a meal by that
table, and it was with this ease she obeyed.
“I’m not going back,” she told him firmly, as if her message hadn’t been clear
from being on the run for almost a decade. Still, better stay firm.
Hitsugaya sat down opposite her with two cups of steaming tea, an unimpressed
look gracing his face. He nudged one cup over to her and took a sip of his own
before responding to her statement. “Things have changed, Matsumoto. Or have
you not stayed still long enough to have heard the news?”
She looked away, bitter. “Aizen is dead, yes, but so is Gin. What’s been done
about that, hm?”
“The  Central 46  could not allow the massive panic which would have spread
should the details of Aizen’s true actions and intentions have been made
public. The matter has been rendered confidential, yes, but there  has  been
change. The matter forced it upon us, made several of us realize we could not
go on as we were,” Hitsugaya spoke with an unusual heat, and she couldn’t
resist meeting his eyes. They burned with the conviction of his words and she
felt swept up with the intensity of his passion, as she had many times before.
He leaned forward and she fought back the urge to mirror him, his aura a unique
gravitational pull made just for her. “I  understand  why you left, Matsumoto.
I know what it did to you, to find out the truth of your commissions, that you
were used for a purpose so against your own morale and conscience. Why do you
think you made it three years before I picked up on your trail? I  couldn’t
ask you to return without ensuring a change. But it’s happening. It’s ongoing,
it will take years more, but it’s  happening.  I would have you by my side
again, Rangiku. Help me move us forward, Captain.”
She wanted  badly  to believe. She hadn’t been the only one deceived, she knew.
Before her sat perhaps the most honorable of all of  Gotei 13,  if not even
beyond them. And she  missed him,  stars above.
She sighed, lips quirking up in a small smile. “You’ve become much more
eloquent since last we spoke,” she drawled even as she remembered all the times
she let herself be pulled along by his few but compelling words. “Then again,
that involved a lot of screaming and swearing as I left your ship stranded on
Tha’Duk IV.”
Hitsugaya snorted as he leaned back in his seat, humour returning to his eyes.
“That mudpile of a stinking swamp planet should be eradicated from the Galaxy.”
“Now don’t be a sourpuss, Captain,” she grinned. “ Sludge  was a rather
fetching colour on you.”
When he laughed she felt something in her relax that had been strained for
years . In the face of this man, she really was  hopeless.
 
                                       O
 
They laid on their sides, facing each other on the bed, much later. She had her
hand on his cheek as he traced patterns on her naked hip.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” she grinned feeling quite reckless and still
high from a rather spectacular shag. There were many things that had changed
since their last encounter, but making her cross-eyed and delirious from
pleasure was not one of them. For being known as an icy dragon, cold and
fierce, he was scorchingly passionate in bed (and, well, against the wall. Or,
you know, on the couch. Or floor).
Toshiro rolled his eyes at her but turned his head to place a kiss on the hand
resting on his cheek. Rangiku raised a brow but stayed silent. “I haven’t
fucked you for seven years, Matsumoto. That time on Svek II does not count, and
even if did,” he said the last part as he raised his voice when she tried to
interrupt, quelling her with a glare, “that was still  four years ago.”  He
narrowed his eyes. “I seem to remember promising you retribution once I got my
hands on you again, as I slipped away in a  drug infused coma. ”
She bit her lip, remembering catching him off guard on an official visit to the
young colony. She hadn’t been able to  resist.  He would’ve never known she’d
even been there had he not been so infuriatingly irresistible. She knew the
risk, had slipped him a little something in the drink she’d offered to share
after a rather heated encounter that had involved too many clothes and a
cramped corner of an Embassy’s toilet stall on her knees. Okay, so she felt a
bit guilty leaving him there after  that,  but a coma was a bit of an
overstatement. “Oh  that.  I thought I preempted my apology by blowing your
mind, Captain.”
She can’t remember a time she had ever been innocent, yet she persisted in
trying to emulate it in her facial expressions. Surely, someday, all the
practise would pay off and butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth no matter how hot
this man knew it to be. Intimately.
“I think not,” he drawled, rolling them over until he had her pinned underneath
him, all gloriously naked and muscled and  naked--- oh yes. “Indeed, I have
been tasked to see to your discipline. Not every one of your employers over the
years have been up to our government’s standards. I suppose now is a good time
as any to begin.”
Rangiku squirmed and licked her lips. “Are your methods sanctioned by  Central
46  then? Should I be worried, Captain?”
He leaned down to nose gently at her neck and easily, she tipped her head to
accommodate him. He nipped at her skin, bit hard at the juncture of neck and
shoulder. She yelped, but stayed still as he soothed her with a series of
kisses which led him down to her breasts. “They trust me to handle you anyway I
see fit. And handle you, I will. I’ve had seven years to think of this. So yes,
Rangiku, you should be worried.”
She breathed out a soft moan when he fell silent to capture a nipple in his
mouth. There should be something she should say here, but she found herself
unable to care. If this was her penance, she would happily serve it.
 
                                      oOo
Chapter End Notes
     Urgh now I have to update this on ffnet. Goddamn whyyyy. I can't
     stand that site's system after the relevation that is AO3. Blegh.
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