Title: Seconds, Minutes
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Couple: HitsuMatsu


The end was the trigger. Forever, he would always be grateful he hadn't been there, hadn't been there to watch the tears trickle down her sweet cheeks, watch her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. If he had been there, it would have been a sight he wouldn't have been able to get rid of. They weren't tears of joy or relief; they were of sadness. Misery. As soon as his eyes closed, whatever spirit she clung to vanished. And she held him to her, tightly, clinging onto his robes, and wept. And he was so, so grateful to not have not been there, because even just imagining it cut his heart in two.

Yet what difference would it have made? Tōshirō and she continued to work as partners at war, and, every day, he witnessed the shards slice her, slowly, gradually, until she was so bloody and wounded, there was nothing left to hurt. Soon, she was numb with agony, but she never cried in front of him. Not once did she shed a tear, or even mention that man. Even if he meant the world to her, she said nothing. It was a strength he hadn't observed before. Quite like his own. Grief rotted his mind and body, but he still stood, and so did she.

He fell in love with her first.

It was only a couple of weeks after Ichimaru's death, and when the emotion hit, he didn't acknowledge it as love. Suddenly, he realised how much he valued her, how he treasured her smile and joy, how he loved her warmth, how she used to embrace him and laugh at his angry responses. She was the only one who wasn't afraid of his temper. She treated him like an adult. Although she doted him, the affection she offered soon began to stick, and when Gin passed away, Tōshirō received no more hugs, no more smiles and laughter. No more silly pranks. The Rangiku he knew had disappeared, and that was a shock, a horrible revelation, and he missed her. Dearly.

Sometimes he would do her paperwork, or give her tea without her asking, but he never made a true effort. He never gave her presents, or invited her to dinner. He never gave her days off, never treated her differently. He was still stoic, still blunt towards her (more so even). He wondered if she had any idea. That this was all an act. Inside, he hated how upset she was. Rangiku hid her depression well, but it was there, every waking second, and she was killing him. Just tell me everything, he wanted to say. Just tell me what you feel, and tell me what to do to make you feel better.

Maybe she didn't want that, though, and maybe he didn't want that either. So Tōshirō kept his thoughts to himself. When she spoke to him, he gave little response, seemed to care little. They didn't spend any time out of the office together anymore, except when on missions, and even that– Rangiku failed to carry the usual cheery air about her. She would smile, would recommend him some good clothes shops, but something wasn't right. It was forced, and he hated her so much for forcing herself. It only made things worse. Looking at her, he wanted her to smile properly, but her eyes were so clear, so dark, they cut him like daggers and his heart squeezed.

Tōshirō knew he was disappointed in her, but the love he endured was stronger. Alas, he was the young prodigy, and she was the beauty of the Gotei. Many men fussed over her, and she didn't need her commanding officer to do the same. Tōshirō maintained his distance, tried to, and succeeded. Possibly, Rangiku noticed how he was so cold with her. If she were to disobey his orders (which was very rare), he would be harsh with her, scold her for minutes, and just release his anger out on her. His frustration, and grief. He doesn't deserve your tears! That... fuck, that bastard. He's hurt you.

And it was that which hurt Tōshirō, too. Rangiku, the sun, the sky, everything wonderful, had her heart broken. How could it be, that someone so bright and happy could be stabbed repeatedly until there was nothing but blood, tears and ash? The Gods were monsters, cruel, and sick. Tōshirō was hurt that she had been hurt. Her grief might as well be tripled for him. Never in his life would he believe anyone could have such an effect on him.

What a shock it was to know, that the prince of ice felt.


'Hitsugaya, are you all right?'

'Captain.' Growling, Tōshirō struggled onto his feet, and Ichigo caught him before he fell forwards. 'That's Captain Hitsugaya, you idiot.'

Ichigo was used to Tōshirō's obsession over his title, so ignored him. Instead, he helped the Captain stand properly, eyes dropping to his wounds. Blood trickled down Tōshirō's side, oozing into his robes, meeting the ground. Cursing to himself, Hitsugaya wished he hadn't grown impatient and lashed out at that Hollow. Even though he was older now, he still had faults from when he was young. Acting without thinking. The Hollow expected his attack and dug its long, sharp claws into his sides. If Hitsugaya didn't move in time, the Hollow would have ripped him in two.

Taking a step forwards, Tōshirō exclaimed in pain. It looked as if it wasn't just his side which was wounded, but his leg too. He slipped slightly, throwing an arm around Ichigo's shoulders to help him stay up. Soon it was clear that his leg had snapped. Not only was he losing a lot of blood, but he couldn't walk either. How humiliating. Kurosaki frowned, and did a good job in keeping Hitsugaya steady.

'I'll take you back to my place––'

'No. I'm going back to the Gotei.'

'You're an idiot! You're hurt, and you can't go back like that!'

'Don't tell me what I can and can't do!'

Ichigo held his gaze for a moment, then sighed. There was no point in arguing. Hitsugaya was ridiculously stubborn, and he did seem very keen on getting back to Soul Society. Ichigo was put off because the journey would take some time, but if Tōshirō wanted to be a fool, then so be it. However, he noticed there was something else in his desperation. Don't tell me what I can and can't do. It wasn't anger in his eyes, but sadness, worry. Someone was on his mind.

The Fourth Division was speedy when it came to treating injured Shinigami. As soon as two Division members came over, Tōshirō pushed Ichigo away, and slumped onto a nearby bed, exclaiming again. Now, his leg was dangling, utterly useless. Ichigo was so used to gore now, but, before, he would have cringed. Pride was stopping Hitsugaya from asking for help, but he clearly wanted to get better as soon as possible. Tōshirō inhaled sharply between his teeth, removing his robes so he was down to his boxers. Squad members soon began treatment and after half an hour, Tōshirō was sitting upright in bed, eyes closed, back straight, a bandage wrapped around his middle. His leg was also in a bandage, but he still wasn't able to walk. The Captain cursed again.

Once all was calm, Ichigo approached his friend. 'You've suffered worse than that. Why the hurry?'

'I'm Captain of the Tenth Division! Having one day of leave is enough to jeopardise everything.'

'I thought only small men had huge egos. Mind, you used to be small. Tiny, even.'

'Watch it, Kurosaki. I'm in no mood for you.'

'You never have a mood for anyone.' Ichigo sat on the bed beside him. 'What's bothering you?'

Tōshirō ignored him. Lowering his gaze, he sensed her spiritual pressure very close, her warmth embracing his wounded body. Then, he looked up, saw Rangiku in the doorway, and immediately she spotted him, hurrying over. 'Captain! What did you do?' This was what he didn't want; her to worry.

'I'm fine. The Fourth Division have done what they can.'

'I helped,' Kurosaki muttered.

Rangiku's heart dropped when she saw the bandage around his middle, her hand softly pressing against his wound. 'For God's sake, Captain, why can't you look after yourself?!'

'I do look after myself!'

'Clearly not, seeing as you came back with only half of you.'

Tōshirō clenched his fist. 'Matsumoto. Go back to the office.'

'Why? I'm staying here.'

'I'm fine.' Tōshirō was anything but. They glared at one another, and it was nice to see a little life in her eyes, but it wasn't joy. He had hurt her by hurting himself. And that was the worst feeling possible. He softened his voice, out of shame. 'Please head back to our barracks. I did not give you permission to visit me here.'

Rangiku didn't come here out of duty or because she had to. She wanted to. She came here because she was worried and scared, that she needed to know if her Captain was all right, that he wouldn't leave her too. Yet he scolded her, turned her away, rejected her comfort, when that was all he ever wanted. It was times like these when Matsumoto felt useless, just an object her commanding officer could throw around when he wished. And she was tired of being thrown around.

It was the fury in his eyes which made her obey. Somehow, she managed to remove the concern in her gaze, and look at him cooly. 'Yes, Captain.' He hated the way she spoke to him. Rangiku left the barracks, without turning to look at him. Tōshirō watched her leave, and instantly regretted his decision. As soon as she departed, the pain in his body returned, and his vision blurred.

Come back to me.


For two days, Tōshirō was confined to a bed until his leg had healed as well as his side. Usually, a Shinigami would take another day off at home to recover completely, but Tōshirō was not like every Shinigami. Instead, he pulled on his now clean robes and headed straight for the Tenth Division. Upon entering the office, he knew Rangiku was already inside, but was surprised to see her working behind his desk. He stood there for a moment, until she realised he had arrived, which didn't take long.

Rangiku didn't move out of his seat, but did seem relieved. 'Captain, you're better.'

'Of course I am. They kept me for longer than they should have. I was better yesterday.'

'Captain, you couldn't leave when you couldn't walk.'

'I could walk. Sort of.'

'You're too harsh on yourself. I would have stayed longer if I were in your shoes.'

'That's because you're not me.' He stepped forwards and cocked his chin. 'Out of my chair. You're not the boss.'

'Mou, I could be, Captain!' She teased, turning a little in his spinny chair. 'You get the best place in the office. The view is great from here.'

Tōshirō frowned. 'From behind, yes. You get the best view from your desk.'

'Let me be in charge for today and you rest up.'

'If I let you in charge, then the entire of Soul Society would be up in smoke within the next hour. Go on, move.'

Pouting, Rangiku grumpily stood up. Yet the grumpiness faded when she let her eyes fall to his leg which he was balancing on awkwardly. To her dismay, she realised he hadn't recovered entirely. When Tōshirō proceeded for the kettle, there was a limp in his walk, and she was annoyed he didn't spend more time at the Fourth. Mug of fruit tea in hand, he approached his desk again and raised his eyebrows at her.

'Matsumoto, get to your desk.'

'You're still hurt.'

Tōshirō placed his mug down. 'It doesn't matter. I'm fine.'

'Oh, you're always fine! Do you know how much it drives me crazy when you lie?'

'Do you know how much it drives me crazy when you lie?'

Rangiku widened her eyes, and gaped. 'I don't lie! Not to you!'

'You have been for the past six years as far as I'm concerned.'

'I haven't lied to you ever.'

Then he dropped his gaze. 'We don't need to talk about this.'

'I think we do; you started it.'

'I did not! Don't push it. Countless times you've told me you're fine, and I've known better. You haven't been yourself since–– Since––'

'Since what?'

'Since Ichimaru died!'

That was a dagger to her heart, and she scowled. 'So? What does it matter to you?'

Everything. Tōshirō didn't need to say anything else. Already he had caused damage when tears became evident in her eyes. I made her cry. It had taken him much too long to come to this point. Maybe it was the drugs he was given at the Fourth to heal quicker, or maybe it was adrenaline from his fight with the Hollow, or maybe it was just her. He sighed, as if in defeat, and watched her while she wiped a tear with the back of her hand. 'I wish I was prepared to know he meant that much to you.'

'It doesn't matter,' Rangiku replied, angrily wiping another tear, then sniffed. 'I haven't–– thought about him for a while until you mentioned him.'

'No?'

She shook her head. 'It's not as if I want to act differently, Captain. I just didn't think you'd realise.'

Did he manage to make Rangiku feel guilty? Fool. Tōshirō nodded once. 'I did, but had nothing to say on the matter.'

'I'm sorry.' She was crying again, but not because of Gin, because Tōshirō knew. That he had noticed her misery and it affected him. That was something she couldn't forgive herself for. So selfish. 'It's just– hard.'

'Yeah.'

'I am trying.'

'I know.'

'And I think I'm getting better.'

'I think you are, too.'

'Slowly.'

'Mm.'

Tōshirō wanted to look away, to stop watching the tears trickle down her cheeks, watch the pain come back for more. He wanted to order her back to work, and forget about this, that he had acted out of order, and it could all be forgotten. But he couldn't. He was never that strong, and it was then he realised he had loved her since. Since Gin departed from her life and made her life a misery, he realised he had loved her then. It was a huge, sharp and horrible sensation which flooded his body, heart, mind and whatever sanity he possessed. Rangiku was everything to him.

Although he loved her, he knew she didn't love him too.

Even if that were so she didn't move away when his cold breath tickled her lips, and she watched him, teary eyes slightly wide, but not in fear. She trusts him. Tōshirō's fingertips rested lightly at her cheek, and he saw his reflection in her eyes. He moved and kissed her, his hand sliding to the back of her head, pushing himself harder against her. Tōshirō took charge, his tongue sliding over her lower lip, to the corner of her mouth, turning his head to the side so she would part her lips and let him in. Tōshirō was strong and forceful, possessive, and her body shuddered, and, for once, she surrendered.

Rangiku pulled back, gasped, but was still, unable to meet his gaze. His hand remained at her cheek, and his breaths at her mouth, and his eyes watched her closely, protectively. Then he caught her lips with his own, and she was reluctant at first, hand pressed to his chest, but this was Tōshirō Hitsugaya. The only person she knew who wouldn't betray her, wouldn't abuse her trust. And that was what she needed from someone. To know she wouldn't turn out to be a fool in trusting them. There was no reason to flee.

A quiet moan, the hand at his chest remaining, the other reaching the side of his face, affectionately trailing a thumb near his ear. Tōshirō bit down on her lower lip gently, making it clear that she was his. He wasn't going to let her go. Be it in seconds, minutes– he wasn't letting her go. It's been much too long for this to happen. She needed him, wanted him, wanted him to hold her tight, press her body to his own, and never stop kissing her. But she couldn't live a fantasy, couldn't live a story she wished were true. They both knew this wasn't right.

'Captain––'

'Shh, it's okay,' he whispered, kissing her again.

Rangiku was hoping he wouldn't say that, wouldn't comfort her. With effort, she broke away from him, flustered. 'Please. Give this time.'

Tōshirō narrowed his brows, 'Time?'

'This is all a little fast. I just need time.'

Time to think, to reconsider, to regret.

It took every ounce of strength in him to obey, to let her have what she wanted. Slipping his arms from her, he let them fall at his sides, 'Okay.'

And he hoped that, as each second passed, as each minute ticked, she would think. She would think that, maybe, her happiness could be granted to her. If she allowed it to. Tōshirō was no man of joy, but he was willing to give her that gift. Like she had done for him.

All I want is to see you smile again for me.


author's note: I was intending for this to be a two-shot, but I don't know if a second chapter would ruin it. Maybe it's best that I leave what happens up to you readers and your imaginations. I feel a bit put off from writing more because I'm writing Snowfall (shall be updated next week!), so, for now, this will be left as a oneshot. Now, unlike always, I had Hitsugaya initiate something which was interesting to experiment on. Thank you for reading.