Author's Note: Huzzah, my very first Bleach fic...(I mostly write about Shaman King)...so, yeah. Most of you Bleach writers out there probably don't know me, so anyways, I'm Ninzor, Shiro-chan is the most adorable shinigami to ever walk the earth, and I write Shaman King crack fics. Right, that's all you need to know as of now.
The captain of the 10th shinigami division stared long and hard at the mirror, giving himself the appearance of some evil stepmother demanding an inanimate object to comment on her utter and unrivaled sexiness. But no, in fact, this boy, Hitsugaya Toshiro, was doing almost the exact opposite.
With a frown, he glared at his reflection, which glared right back at him. He analyzed each of his features, eventually coming to the conclusion that he was therefore imperfect.
White hair that lead him to be called a freak in the real world.
Eyes that were an unatural, piercing aqua, of which also raised his "mutant" status in the real world.
Short stature. He was practically an oompa loompa. He might as well start packing his bags and go live with Snow White in the merry woods.
And, what seemed to be an utter lack of well-toned muscle. Bony, thin arms, bony, thin hands, and a generally bony, thin body overall. This usually resulted in giving him the appearance of a loose potato sack whenever he dressed himself in his captain's robes.
Why couldn't he be like that Renji guy? Tall, muscular, and well-loved by all.
Still displeased with his reflection, Hitsugaya stalked out of his office and into the sunlight pouring down upon the Seireitei. Such uncomfortable heat. Great. If there was one thing that was going to spoil is already foul mood, then it was the heat. It made him unbelievably grumpy, not that he wasn't all the time anyways.
As he made his way to the 1st Division hall for the captain's meeting, unfortunately, his eardrums were nearly shattered by the high, trilling, bubbly voice that had haunted him in his days as a captain. The voice of Matsumoto Rangiku.
Quickening his pace, he tried to pretend that he didn't hear.
But it was no use.
Nothing was ever of use against his assistant captain and her lethal boobs of steel, the downfall of every male opponent she had ever come across. They were almost as effective as Haineko.
Hitsugaya, by now, was used to the sight of those deadly weapons, and in nature, he wasn't too fond of women (unless you were to count a goddess among woman, Hinamori Momo...), so by now, he was toughened up against those. But that never changed the fact that each deadly encounter with the infamous Matsumoto Rangiku wasn't a matter of life and death. And by now, that very woman had caught up to her captain and had begun the assault.
"TAICHOU!" she shrieked in delight, seizing her captain firmly and pulling him into a terrible embrace. The hug...of death.
As the poor white-haired captain's face was smashed into the depths of those very weapons, the steely assets, he found it increasingly hard to breathe. He was being suffocated by a woman he had thought he could trust.
With an almighty grunt of effort, he managed to wrench himself free, into the sweet, fresh air. As he gasped for air, gulping in the wonderful substance of life, his facial color slowly returned to normal and breathing became a simple task again.
He turned around to glare at Matsumoto, the temperature dropping several degrees. Seeming to be unaffected, the cheerful strawberry-blonde woman grabbed Hitsugaya by the wrist and announced, "Come on, taichou! Let's go to the hot springs and relax for a little!"
"Why would I want to do that!?"
"Because you're obviously under stress."
"Am not."
"Am so."
Long pause.
"Are the...springs...seperate gender?" Hitsugaya inquired cautiously, praying the answer would be yes. His heart immediately sank, and his hopes were shattered like an enemy that had just encountered the freezing wrath of Hyourinmaru.
"No!" Matsumoto answered, grinning. "They're co-ed! Let's go in together!"
In the same building.
In the same room.
In the same spring.
In the same steaming, relaxing water...
With those horrible boobs of steel.
The taichou of the 10th Shinigami Division had never fled faster in his life.