Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, therefore it is not mine.
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Innocence Lost
Matsumoto makes it a habit not to think about her life before she died and entered the Soul Society.
It's not that she doesn't want to remember being alive—it's just hard. She's been in the Seireitei for centuries, and sometimes memories of life before death are faded and sketchy, like a dream one forgets as soon as they wake. She figures it's just easier to not think about it, so she does just that.
She has plenty of memories as it is, growing up in Rukongai with Gin and entering the Academy, being sent to the Tenth Division, and finally meeting Toushirou Hitsugaya the day he became her Captain. Memories of life before death aren't exactly high on her list of things to remember or think about.
But sometimes… sometimes, Matsumoto remembers.
She doesn't remember a lot, granted; she was still quite young when she died, so not much was imprinted on her young mind. But there is one memory; cloudy and faded with time, but it's practically the only thing that comes to mind when she tries to remember.
The memory of her mother.
Sometimes, when she focuses hard enough, when she closes her eyes and visualizes everything in her mind's eye, she can somewhat recall the face of her mother. Her mother's hair was long, she remembers—she remembers thinking that she wanted her hair to be just as beautiful and long and silky as her mother's was. Her mother had black hair, and Matsumoto remembers how she'd laughingly lift a few strands of her own light-colored locks and compare them to the darkness of her own. It always made her giggle.
Her mother had the same eyes as she did; Matsumoto never doubts this. She remembers those eyes as clearly as though she's seen them numerous times, the same icy blue shade as her own, but with warmth and love.
Matsumoto kind of remembers her mother's voice, but it has faded with time and she can't really recall what it sounded like; knowledge lost, and it makes her chest ache.
There are two other things, though, that she recalls with vivid clarity.
She remembers the warmth of her mother's arms, that feeling of being held tight and close like you were never going to be let go, the feeling of a heartbeat matching yours. Matsumoto thinks that it is her mother's embrace that she misses the most sometimes, when she's drunk and feeling especially sentimental.
She also remembers her mother's singing. She can't fully recall her mother speaking, but she does recall her singing, her voice soft and sweet; she's quite certain her mother was a soprano. It was soothing and always lulled Matsumoto to sleep.
Matsumoto only remembers these things when she really focuses, her only 'clear' memory of life before death.
She does remember—and she will never forget it—the feeling of awakening in Soul Society all alone. The terrifying feeling of waking to discover that the one pillar of support in her life—the center of her universe at the time—had been cruelly ripped from her.
Matsumoto remembers this because she knows that when she died, her mother died with her.
She also knows that the chances of seeing her mother again are slim to none, which is why she prefers not to make it a habit to think about her life before death.
Still, there are times when this memory invades her sleep, taking the place of her memories with Gin or anyone else, and haunts her until she wakes. And when she wakes, lifting her hand, she always discover her cheeks are wet.
Because no matter what, despite the years that have passed…
No matter what, Matsumoto was once a child. And just like any child, she longs for the safety of her mother's arms.
Even though she knows, deep down, that she might never see her mother again.
The End
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Random little thing based on speculation and an idea that wouldn't leave me alone...
Read and review, please!