Hinamori bit her lip.

"Well alright," Matsmoto rolled up her sleeves. "If you won't give it a go, then I will!"

"W-wait! Rangiku-san!" stammered Hinamori, clutching anxiously at her friend's forearm. "I don't think this is a good idea! Yoruichi-sama must have spent years developing that spell, and we're only trying to replicate it after observing her perform it once! Why don't we just ask her if she could teach it to us?"

Matsumoto snorted, shaking the girl's hand off of her arm with a gentle flick of her wrist. "If I know that old bag, she won't part with her secret that easily. And besides," she added, giving Hinamori a hearty wink. "I've got a kido master here to help me figure it out!" Hinamori blushed. "C'mon, whaddaya say? It'll be fun!"

"But what if Hitsugaya-kun comes back?"

Matsumoto waved her hand dismissively. "Taicho, smaicho: that meeting will last all afternoon, trust me!"

"But…" Hinamori glanced at the teetering pile of forms stacked precariously on the desk before giving Matsumoto an exasperated look. Matusmoto pouted.

"Aw, c'mon, Momo! We can work later! Don't be a stick in the mud! Please?"

It was difficult for a soft-hearted girl such as Hinamori to win against teary eyes and a quivering lip. She sighed. As Hinamori's shoulders sagged in defeat, Matsumoto clapped delightedly.

"Hooray! We'll have a great time, I promise! Now, how was it she did it, again? Maybe… Like… This?"

"H-hey!" Hinamori squeaked in alarm. "Rangiku-san, you want to do it in here?"

"Well sure, why not?"

"What if something goes wrong? We might-" Matsumoto laughed.

"It's only a transformation spell! Relax, I'm not going to set anything on fire or anything."

"O-okay…" Wringing her hands, Hinamori sat stiffly onto the couch, her wide, fearful eyes fixated on her friend, who was wriggling her fingers dramatically.

"It shouldn't be that hard, anyway!" scoffed Matusomoto. "I think you're giving Yuroichi way too much credit… Okay, let's go! One…"

Hinamori twisted her hands into her lap.

"…two…"

Both shinigami drew a deep breath of anticipation.

"…thr-"

CLACK.

The door snapped open. The lieutenants shrieked in unison.

BANG.

A cloud of purple smoke ran across the floor like a flood, quickly filling the entire room.

"Rangiku-san!" Hinamori stumbled blindly towards Matsumoto's last known position, holding her sleeves up to her nose and mouth. "Rangiku-san, are you alright?" Suddenly, her foot caught on something bulky and the lieutenant tumbled to the ground with a squeal.

"Ow!"
"Oh, Rangiku-san! Was that you? I'm so sorry, a-are you okay?"

"Yeah, you must've tripped over my knee. The force of the explosion threw me backwards, but otherwise I'm fine. Are you alright?"

"I'm okay… What happened?"

"Well, the spell didn't work if that's what you mean. Stupid Yoruichi… I should've known she wouldn't have made it that easy…"

"No, I mean… What I meant is, why did the door open?"

They sat in silence for a moment, each struggling to remember exactly what had happened the split second before Matusmoto had released the spell. All of that space in time, however, seemed to be clouded over by thick, purple smoke.

As the air in the room finally began to clear, the lieutenants helped each other to their feet. Purple ash was smeared all over Matusmoto's face and little flakes of violet clung to her hair, but asides from that she appeared to have escaped the spell unscathed. Hinamori had avoided the blast altogether. She coughed as she inhaled a lungful of smoky air, glancing about the room. None of the furniture had been and damaged and, to somewhat bittersweet feelings of relief, Hinamori noted that the paperwork was also untouched.

"Thank goodness," she murmured. Well, that was certainly enough playing around with mysterious kido spells for one day. "Rangiku-san, I don't think we should try that again." She turned to face Matsumoto. "Rangiku-san?"

The undivided attention of the suddenly pale lieutenant of Squad 10 was given to a smoking pile of fabric in the doorway. Hinamori's eyes widened as she beheld the familiar insignia upon the crumpled haori; the zanpakto, loosened slightly from its sheath in the fall to the floor, tangled in a green sash upon a heap of black shinigami robes. The bottom dropped out of her stomach.

"…shit!" said Matusmoto in a weak voice.

"Hitsugaya-kun!" Hinamori shrieked. She was in the doorway in half an instant, once hand clasped over her mouth and the other supporting her weight on the doorframe.

"Taicho!" Matusmoto skidded across the polished floor on her knees, desperately tearing through the cloth. "Shit, shit, shit! If I've killed him, he'll kill me!"

"Killed him?" repeated Hinamori tearily. "Don't say that! We didn't! W-we couldn't have…" She sniffed, dropping onto her haunches beside Matsumoto and digging her own hands into the fray. "He c-c-can't be d-"

The shinigami gasped as a lump in the centre of the pile stirred.

"Taicho!" yelled Matsmoto. The pair set into the cloth with renewed vigour.

"Hitsugaya-kun! Are you…al…right…" The windmill-like flurry of arms slowed to a stop. Matsumoto peered over Hinamori's shoulder.

"What? What is it? Is he alive?" Hinamori said nothing, staring into the folds of the haori. "What?" She lowered her hands deep into the fabric. Matsumoto bounced on her heels impatiently. "Momo! What've you-"

Lieutenant Matusmoto choked on her words.

From the centre of the pile of robes Hinamori had just pulled the surliest, most serious, brooding… And livid white cat either of the shinigami had ever seen.

Matsmoto dropped her face into her hands. "He's going to kill me."