I can't express how happy I am about this. It's ridiculous. I've always wanted to do some sort of holiday fic, but never got the right idea. Until…what was in front of my face the whole time finally got tired of me staring blankly and slapped me in the face.
So, without further ado, A Bleach Carol. Enjoy and a very Merry Christmas!
I do not own Bleach, which belongs to Tite Kubo, nor do I own A Christmas Carol, which belongs to good ol' Charles. …Right? O.o Well it just ain't mine.
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The Beginning, and a Notice
No one was dead. Yet. The Winter War had only one major battle so far that ended in a stalemate. When Aizen pulled back from his assault on the false Karakura Town, he hadn't returned. From the reports of those inside Hueco Mundo, Aizen's little escapade had left half of Las Noches demolished, the Hougyoku nearly retrieved, and Inoue Orihime safely rescued. Kenpachi, Unohana, Byakuya, and the others all returned once Aizen reopened the Garganta in the rush to salvage his palace. Wounds were healed. Seireitei waited.
The tense atmosphere made for a quiet birthday for the young captain as it passed. Hinamori still brought him a small gift, but the vice captain didn't stay long. A string of captain's meetings left the present unwrapped in the top drawer of Hitsugaya's desk, forgotten as important matters of state finally began to rise once again. A date was set as an approximate time when the Hougyoku would fully awaken after having withdrawn its powers during the demolition fight between Kurosaki Ichigo and the Fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer. That date was sometime between January first through the forth. The rest of December appeared uneventful and bland; not a problem for the Tenth Division captain as he sat day after day at his desk, hardly taking visitors unless they were on official business, and then traveling to the training fields and practicing until his body was numb. When Matsumoto slowly began appearing back at the office from her prolonged stay in the Fourth Division, he had little toleration for her antics, and altogether dismissed the sudden idea of an approaching holiday. Something about gift-giving, that it was a tradition in the transient world. Nonsense. Hitsugaya didn't want any part of it; only to prepare for the upcoming confrontation when the Hougyoku woke. Not even Hinamori, when she expressed her interest in the holiday, could convince Toushirou otherwise.
As he packed up a stack of papers, the clock striking three on the dot, Matsumoto glanced up with a shiver. "Taichou, could you turn down the intensity a bit?" she asked. "You're making the room cold."
"Don't you have that scarf?" he replied offhandedly.
Raising an eyebrow, Matsumoto glanced at the small line of pink fabric running up her shoulder. "Oh!" she exclaimed, waving the end of the scarf around in mock celebration. "Hadn't thought of that! So smart, taichou!"
Hitsugaya flashed a glare. "Being annoying isn't going to help your cause, just like pouting and getting angry didn't."
Momo knocked, opening the door before either moved to get it. "Hitsugaya-tai—ah! Rangiku-chan, it's colder in here than it is outside!"
The strawberry blond pointed a finger in Toushirou's general direction. "Blame that one."
"What's wrong, Shiro-chan?" Momo asked, worried.
"Nothing," the boy captain growled, shoving his drawer shut. "I'm going to the training fields. Unless Aizen's attacking, don't bother me." He turned around quickly, and caught Matsumoto as she replaced her tongue inside her mouth, smiling sweetly. Hinamori giggled slightly.
"Aye, mon capitan!" Matsumoto faked a salute. Hitsugaya and Hinamori both gave her a look. "It's French," the buxom woman shrugged.
French, Momo mouthed quietly, confused as Toushirou scoffed. "Hitsugaya-taichou!" she called as he neared the doorway. "Before you leave, I, uh, got these from the Sixth Division this morning. It's being passed around to all the captains, and I think you're the last one to get it. Yamamoto-soutaichou wants it back tomorrow morning."
Toushirou kept his groan in check, but scowled all the more deeper. "Fine. I'll do it later."
The small dark-haired woman sighed, setting the previously outstretched papers on the corner of his paper-heavy desk, and halted his exit once more, this time much more nervously. Matsumoto had put her brush down, crossed her arms, and sat back to watch, an expectant look on her face.
"I know you already disagreed with us, but tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and it's not like it's an actual tradition here. I mean, I didn't know about it before Rangiku brought it up. But it really sounds like fun."
"You're still stuck on this, huh?" he sighed, almost sounding like he pitied the two of them. "I already said no. Many times if I remember right. We don't have time for nonsense when there are more important things to be getting ready for. You would think that the two of you would want to work on not getting beaten so badly again, but instead you're just wasting time." Toushirou turned his back on his vice captain's hard stare and Hinamori's downtrodden expression. "I suggest you use the little time we have left building your strength, otherwise I might refuse you both from entering the battlefield."
(())
It was dark and very cold when Hitsugaya returned to his quiet office and lit a single candle on the desk. He rested his eyes for a moment after having them cross with exhaustion by the second sentence of instruction on the documents Hinamori had left. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he started from his doze a few minutes later. Rubbing his eyes, Toushirou let loose a broad yawn that turned into a yelp as a thunderous crash dislodged the two legs he'd been leaning back on out from under him. He landed unceremoniously on the floor. Growling, he peeled himself up and situated his haori correctly.
"Probably a storm," he muttered to himself, sitting down and glancing at the looming form in front of him. The document seemed boring enough, so maybe the sudden noises would keep him awake…
Toushirou looked up, frowning.
Nothing was there.
Lightning, then, playing tricks on the wall.
Again he tried to read, taking the first sentence in like his life depended on it, but by the time he started the third Toushirou found himself lying across his desk, the papers smudged a bit from his open, drooling mouth.
"More tired than I thought," he grumbled, finding something to wipe the paper off with. A large shadow passed as he had his head stuck inside a drawer, digging for a cloth. Toushirou peeked over the top of the desk.
Nothing.
When he couldn't find anything he used the corner of his haori and settled once more, determined to get this over with so he could properly go to bed.
When he woke the third time he cursed himself, the papers, and Yamamoto twice over for assigning it in the first place.
"I'll just get up earlier," he relented, shuffling then stacking the documents neatly.
"Aren't you worn out enough as it is?"
Hitsugaya jumped, hand reaching for Hyourinmaru only to blink and stare at the materialized form of his zanpaktou.
"I'm not necessarily getting adequate rest either, you know," the ice dragon said, brilliant red eyes boring into Hitsugaya's.
"I didn't summon you," the boy noted.
"Really?" the dragon snorted.
"What do you want? If you're tired then let me leave so I can go to bed. Or just go to sleep yourself. We aren't practicing anymore."
Hyourinmaru shifted, and the chime of ice filled the office. "I cannot."
"Why not?"
"Let's just say that at least I won't be the only one."
"What are you talking about?"
"What's with all the questions?" the dragon opened his jaws, his annoyance clear. "Just be quiet and listen. You're normally good at that. We could sit for hours and just listen. All of your jabbering is getting old, Toushirou. Can you imagine how much a voice carries over a plain of ice?"
Hitsugaya was shaking his head. "I'm not talking any more than I always do."
Hyourinmaru roared. "Naive boy! I'm surprised they allowed you to become captain! Keeping your mouth shut is a good idea." Toushirou glowered, but let his zanpaktou spirit continue. "As a part of your soul, I can hear what your ears hear and also what your heart speaks. You're in much turmoil, Toushirou, and you've become very loud. You've taken the wind and snow from my fields and are using it here instead. I like the wind and snow," Hyourinmaru pointed. "Bring it back."
"How am I supposed to do that?" the boy asked, frustrated at hearing his own weaknesses. "I can't help but want to win this fight, no matter what it costs."
"Winning is fine, but the price you're already trying to pay is more than necessary. You'll regret following this path, Toushirou."
"I will by not following it sooner! That's all I regret right now."
"And that," the dragon sighed, lying his massive head down, "is the problem. I said that tonight you wouldn't get your rest, and I didn't lie. You'll be visited by three ghosts—"
The tired Hitsugaya burst into a sarcastic laughing fit. "I meet ghosts all the time. I'm one. You are too, if you haven't noticed."
Hyourinmaru lifted his head and blew a blast of cold air in Toushirou's face, knocking the captain over onto the couch.
"Listen! You'll be visited by three ghosts! Three ghosts you've never seen the likes of before, if that makes it any better for you! Expect the first at one, the second at two, and the last at three. I hope you pay better attention to what they have to say than you did with me." With a last snort, Hyourinmaru vanished, leaving Hitsugaya alone and on his back, wondering just what the obstinate dragon meant.