Author's Note: Hey guys, I hope you all had a great Christmas! I'm a total sucker for HitsuYori stories (I know, unusual pairing), so it's time I've written one myself! Hope you enjoy!

Questions Unanswered

"Why do you hate us so much?" came his question, almost like an attack.

Instinctively, Hiyori snapped back, "You're assholes! All of ya!" She crossed her arms and spat over the railing, paying no heed to Shinji's reprimands in the past regarding respect for her surroundings. Screw Shinji. He was one of them once again. She held no affiliation with him. Whatsoever.

"That doesn't exactly answer the question," the cold voice returned with irritation. He stared over the cityscape of the Karakura Town with the gaze of an eagle surveying his realm. That sense of dignity about him—it pissed Hiyori off.

"And why not?" she retorted, narrowing her eyes. Damn it, it wasn't just that stupid sense of dignity. It was everything about him that pissed her off. His tousled, strange hair. His calm, collected attitude. His stark, flawless captain's haori. She would kill to have a shot at him, to show him who's boss, but she knew better than that. Doing such a thing would only throw her into deep shit with the Gotei 13; and that meant having to deal with even more Shinigami.

"By calling us assholes—" Hiyori rolled her eyes, preparing to drone out the incoming lecture. "That doesn't prove anything. The question is, how are we assholes?" Hiyori shifted. The question had caught her entirely by surprise. His lecture continued, "The thing is, if we were justifiably assholes, as you'd call us, the Captain-Commander would've granted everybody a pardon. Minus you."

"The hell is that s'posed to mean!" She whisked around to face the midget head on. "You Shinigami are nothin' but goddamned assholes, ya hear me! Nothin' but! It's an in-trinsic quality of you scum-suckin' brats!"

Undoubtedly, Hitsugaya Toshiro was the most annoying gnat she had ever encountered in her entire life. Twice as bad as Kisuke. Ten times worse than fucking Shinji. She wanted to throttle him by the neck, pitch him into the streets below, and watch, in satisfaction, a taxicab lurch over his screaming face. Now that, she thought, would be worth capturing for the big screen.

"Please," the midget muttered. "I'm trying to do my job here."

"And I'm trying to enjoy this nice, relaxin' sunrise on this stupid skyscraper!" Hiyori gestured manically around the pink and orange horizon. "I was here first 'til you popped in here with that stupid redhead tattoo-freak all of a sudden, trompin' 'round my skyscraper like a band of monkeys with Tourette's!"

"Fantastic," the Shinigami murmured, placing a tentative hand on the hilt of his sword, "but this specific building, being the tallest building in Karakura Town, is the ideal spot for spotting—"

"You know what?!" She had enough. Hiyori surged forward and grabbed Toshiro by the collar of his shihakusho. Ignoring his protest, she pushed him against the railing of the skyscraper and leaned close to his grimacing face. "Sometimes," she snarled, "I'm a nice girl who lets people off fairly easily. But other times—" She shoved him harder into railing. The sound of traffic complained from twenty stories below. "But other times, I ain't so nice, sucker. And when you come around, messin' up my relaxation time—and let me tell ya, I don't get enough of that nowadays—you will suffer the damned consequences, ya hear me?"

The midget didn't answer; his eyes remained fixated on a point past her shoulder.

"I said, did ya hear me—"

A star-hilted Zanpakuto flashed upwards followed by the sound of flesh being torn apart. Hiyori gasped. She felt her back slowly saturating with a warm, sticky liquid that smelled distinctly of—blood.

"And that's why you don't distract me from work," Toshiro grumbled. With one hand, he gingerly pulled Hiyori's arm off of his sleeve and then proceeded to prying himself off from the railing. "Some real accidents can happen." Solemnly, he yanked his sword out of the enormous Hollow looming behind Hiyori in one swift motion. The monster disintegrated into dark molecules and disappeared into the twilight sky.

Hiyori stood, rendered speechless.

"Excellent work leading it here, Abarai." Toshiro sheathed his sword as the redheaded tattoo-freak flash-stepped by his side. "And Sarugaki? You may want to get some of that Hollow matter cleaned off of your back. I apologize for not making a cleaner kill."

Footnote: I'm really debating whether or not to stretch this little ficlet into a full-length story. I know that some stories are meant to stay as one-shots, but I have feeling this might have some potential if I give it proper care and attention. Opinions? They'd be much appreciated! Please leave a comment!