Bleach Fan Fiction

Fire and Ice

By Kraven Ergeist

Captain Hitsugaya had known of his vice-captain's less than reputable habits for almost as long as he had known her. She was of course not the only one among the ranks who enjoyed their drink and lounging and staying up at ungodly hours. And as forgetful as Matsumoto could be, Hitsugaya was honestly proud of how well she balanced her work life and her personal life. And he was relieved that he had managed to remain firmly within the "work life" category thus far.

Imagine the rumors starting should it be otherwise. Matsumoto was a formidable vice-captain and he respected her fully for her capabilities. But under the influence, not even the he could anticipate nor control some of her more surly tendencies.

Besides, beneath the skin, they were both so different. She was blazing, hot as fire. He was frigid, cool as ice. And that was how it was supposed to be.

So why in God's name was he hauling her sorry ass home after finding her half passed out after a casual social event between her and some of the other vice-captains?

She went to these events often, being understandably popular among many of the vice-captains. Even piss drunk, however, she was still enormously powerful, so few had dared to lay a hand on her for fear of being outright castrated.

Why he had even dared poke his head through the door as he passed by the lounge hearing laughter was a mystery even to him. Why had he hung around, even though he hated such gatherings? He made a point to never attend these sorts of ordeals, even among the other captains. It's not that he wasn't old enough – he could have lived another hundred years and still be Shiro-chan to his closest. But he found nothing appealing in diminishing his own senses just for the sake of socializing. He liked his inhibitions as they were, damn it!

So what was he felt when he saw his vice captain, laughing and singing and making an utter ass of herself among colleagues and coworkers? Why did he feel drawn to the scene, when he knew full well the stigma it would entail should he do so? A captain at a vice-captain party was like a Professor showing up at a frat house during homecoming.

So why? Was he jealous of her? Did he envy her ability to slip from her (mostly) serious attitude during work to this utterly carefree persona with the setting of the sun? He had never gone out drinking with any of his friends growing up, and now, it was too late. Not only was he a captain, but he was also the youngest captain. He had a name to protect, and going out drinking (something he had penciled in his mind as juvenile and disreputable) was not something he could afford to be associated with his already juvenile status.

He had put so much effort into distancing himself from that image of immaturity, while Matsumoto almost thrived on it. So, yes, he was jealous! Jealous that should he so much as be near such a stereotype, it would tarnish his standing irreparably, whereas she made a habit of periodically sinking down to an almost whorish level so easily, and then being completely unaffecting by it the morning after.

Well, with the exception of a hefty hangover.

"Captain!" he heard her call out as she noticed him peeking in through the door. "I didn't expect you to be joining us!"

Hitsugaya flinched. Damn her and her complete disregard for his insecurity!

The other vice-captains made a show of straightening up as he made his way to the table. He'd been called in now, it would be considered rude not to join. Now, he had no choice but to sit down, have a drink, and hopefully excuse himself as early as possible.

"So what brings you down here at this hour of the night, Captain?" Matsumoto said. Her voice was flighty as always, and she was completely at ease with her superior's presence, a trait not shared with her fellow cohorts.

"Just passing through actually," Hitsugaya said, not making eye contact. "I should actually be going."

"Nonsense!" Matsumoto exclaimed, her face already red from drink. "You never take any downtime, Captain! Why don't you stay a while?"

The white haired boy kept frowning. "Matsumoto, I really, really don't want to. Now if you'll excuse me…"

He was about to get up when he felt her hand catch his sleeve. He turned down, a look of disgust in his eyes. But almost immediately, his expression fell.

"Shiro…please?"

Hitsugaya felt his mouth go dry. The look on her face was just heart wrenching! She almost looked like she was on the verge of tears. Why was this so important to her!? It was just a night of festivity, why was it so important that he be there? He never had before, why was it so important that he start now?

He didn't know whether or not she was just putting on a mask. Lord knows, she's done it before. But what he did know is that one drink was all it took to make six or seven just disappear.

But the look on her face…

The white haired boy sat back down, a peeved look on his face. "…One drink."

Oddly enough, Toushiro Hitsugaya kept to his limit that night (Though more than one drink had been spilled on his robe. Byakuya would be hearing about his vice-captains lack of caution). Matsumoto on the other hand…

"Honestly…" he groaned, the big woman's arm slung over his shoulder. "Was my being there really such a big event? You should know your own limit, Matsumoto."

The vice captain's response was to drool on his robes.

Hitsugaya sighed.

"Well, this robe's already a lost cause. Might as well ruin it while you can."

He lugged her the short distance to her residence, a spacious accommodation reserved for vice captains. His were larger still, but hers were nicer by far. Though that was mostly her own doing. While Hitsugaya's residence was cluttered with papers and letters and things not done, Matsumoto kept her place very neat and orderly. Here and there, there were paintings and flower arrangements – the general accoutrements signaling a woman's touch. Though the lack of work being taken home was more a sign of her not doing work to begin with, the residence was easy on the eyes.

And speaking of easy on the eyes…

"Shiro…" Matsumoto breathed, still half asleep.

The white haired captain just groaned, making his way through the house. "I wish she wouldn't call me that…"

He'd never been to Matsumoto's residence before. Most of the time, their office, or his residence was where most of their business was conducted. Let's see…door number one…closet. Door number two…kitchen. Door number three…Jeez, Matsumoto could afford to lose a few pounds!

Hitsugaya groaned again. A bathroom. Though it was quite clean. And the bath itself was nice and spacious. It was almost big enough for two. He wondered how comfortable it would be if the two of them…

Moving on.

Finally, they'd reached her room, and Hitsugaya gasped for air after depositing her haphazardly onto her bed. He stood up for a few moments, catching his breath. God, how much did this woman weigh? And how much of that weight was a function of her enormous-

"Captain?" a groggy voice sounded from the body strewn across the bed.

Hitsugaya stood straight. "Good, you're awake. I brought you home. Can you manage from here on out?"

Matsumoto reached for him, her eyes half lidded. "Yeah…Shiro, I…wait…no…bathroom…"

Suddenly, her hand came over her mouth.

Hitsugaya hissed, before grabbing her by the arm and hauling her off to the bathroom they had passed earlier. She dropped to her knees before leaning over and emptying her night's ingestion into the toilet.

Her captain frowned, holding back her hair. "Honestly, how much did you drink? Haven't you built up a tolerance by now?"

The red head retched again, coughing and spattering. "Well…tonight was…a special occasion…"

Hitsugaya sighed. "And what special occasion was that?"

Matsumoto stood up, before rinsing a cloth at the sink, wiping her mouth. Turning and smiling, you'd never guess she had just literally spilled her guts. "It's a secret!"

Hitsugaya glared. "Great. So you drank more than usual for some reason that you're going to keep to herself. This night just keeps getting better and better."

Matsumoto smiled innocently. It amazed him how a woman so well endowed could appear innocent, but she pulled it off. Her duality was a consistent conundrum to the young captain, and no matter how he bent his mind around it, he could never quite figure out his subordinate's ability to just switch identities like she did.

And what made it more infuriating was how it wasn't her behavior that changed, it was how she managed to make you perceive it. The same laugh could sound childish, heartfelt or downright promiscuous, depending on how she felt like affecting you.

It drove him mad.

"Well, if you're all done, I'd like to get some sleep, so if you don't mind, I'll be heading-"

"Sure thing, Captain!" she shouted, vehemently, catching him completely off guard. "See you in the morning! I'm gonna get to bed myself, so…goodnight!"

And then she passed out again, stumbling forward into Hitsugaya, burring his head between her assets.

"Matsumoto!" Hitsugaya shouted. He'd just about had enough of this! He was tempted to just leave her right there on the bathroom floor, propriety be damned! She had better not be faking! Oh, if she was faking, he wouldn't let her hear the end of this! She had done it before!

He let out a sigh. He had already put up with her this far – taking her back to her room would be no skin off his back and it would make a world of difference. She was his vice captain after all, and he needed her in tip top condition. So, with no small amount of grunts, groans and choice swear words, he had managed to get her back to her room, when she suddenly resumed consciousness again.

"Shiro…" she smiled, cutely, before wrapping her arms around him.

"Hey…what the…?" Hitsugaya spoke up, before her weight carried them both crashing onto the futon.

"Shiro…" she groaned again, half asleep, her arms still holding him in a dead lock.

"Matsumoto!" Hitsugaya groaned, angrily. "Would you get off me!?"

She only seemed to be half conscious. Convenient. He wasn't strong enough to break her grip without breaking something else. He thought briefly about using his bankai when suddenly her lips brushed against his ear, and suddenly, Hitsugaya felt like the child everyone saw him as.

"Hey…Matsumoto…" he breathed, uncomfortably. But she had begun chewing on his ear, and she was sighing contently. Was she asleep? Was she dreaming? It had better be a damned good dream, if she was going to make him this uncomfortable! Damn woman! This was not how he imagined his evening going! This was going too far! She was completely out of line with this, inebriation or not!

"Matsumoto…" he leaned forward, groaning into her ear.

"Mmm?" she sighed, half consciously in response.

"You better let go, Matsumoto…"

"Mmm…why?"

"Cause it's late, and I'm trapped underneath you. We're both in your bedroom at night, and you're not in your right mind…"

"Mmm…am I?" her eyes came open, and her smile was devilishly promiscuous. Hitsugaya felt the blood rushing to his face as she leaned in to touch her lips to his. He didn't have time to react as she snuggled him again, still not letting him go.

"You realize I could have you court marshaled for this?" Hitsugaya said, though his mouth was the only one who thought so.

"Mmm…yeah…"

"Matsumoto…" the white haired boy breathed. "I mean it. If you don't let me go right now…I'm not going to want you to later…"

"Is that so…?" Matsumoto smiled, kissing him again.

Hitsugaya didn't know what to do. He knew the rules. This was clearly ignoring them. So why did that suddenly not matter to him? Did she know what she was doing? How conscious had she been? Had she been faking stupor the whole time? Had this been her plan all along? God damn woman. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"Shiro?" he heard her whisper into his ear.

Gods, he wanted to hear her say that again.

"What?"

"…Stay?"

Hitsugaya didn't really have a choice. Matsumoto still had him in a deadlock, her weight pining him down, and the moonlight capturing the delightful bunching of her cleavage as they pressed together against him.

She nuzzled his ear, and his whole body melted.

She was blazing, hot was fire. He was frigid, cool as ice. They were such opposites, the fact that they had been paired together, much less the idea that they could commingle like this…

"Impossible woman…"

That court marshal would just have to wait.