A/N: This story is my attempt to rationalize the premise of the second Bleach movie, The DiamondDust Rebellion. There needed to be something meaningful behind Hitsugaya and Kusaka's friendship and an equally meaningful reason for Kusaka to have become unstable enough to turn on Hitsugaya so drastically in Central 46. There also had to be an explanation for the second, different Hyōrinmaru, why the seemingly arbitrary law existed, how things were smoothed over publicly, and how Kusaka was revived. My goal is to fill all this out with context rather than directly change what was portrayed in the movie. This story presumes that the characters in the movie either didn't know what happened behind the scenes or didn't understand what they observed.

I have the whole story roughly outlined. I thought it would only be three chapters but whoops, it's running longer. I can't promise how frequently I'll update. I haven't written chaptered fic in about a decade. Please bear with me.

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"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

x§x§x CHAPTER 1: HALCYON DAYS x§x§x

The day Tōshirō Histugaya met Sōjirō Kusaka started normally enough for a day at Shin'ō Academy. Tōshirō woke up early and squinted out the dormitory window at the predawn sky until the sense of yearning and cold from his dreams had faded. He dragged himself to his feet and turned to check how much frost had collected around him while he slept- much more hoar frost than hard rime that day and covering a much smaller area than a few months prior; decent progress, but a lot of room for improvement. He cleaned up the melting frost, folded his futon, washed his face and combed his hair, shrugged on his uniform, tucked his kodachi-sized asauchi into his hakama-himo, and hurried to the cafeteria for breakfast. He ate as quickly as was polite then hurried back to his tiny room to fetch his supplies for the day. Quite the normal morning.

He broke his schedule that day for something most of the students would consider unusual but which Tōshirō had grown used to. Instead of going to his usual fifth year classes he detoured toward the office of the Chief Instructor for the sixth year Special Accelerated Class. The big man looked down at the serious little boy rather skeptically as he handed over a timetable for sixth year courses. Tōshirō bowed respectfully in thanks and found his own way to his new morning class just in time. He was not given any special introduction to his new classmates; he was simply expected to smoothly follow the lecture and theory, essentially left to sink or swim as a test on the instructor's part. His new classmates peered curiously at him throughout the lesson. Tōshirō took notes diligently and vowed to visit the library after the evening meal in search of more context for the lesson. He was so absorbed in his task that the bell for mid-morning break startled him.

This was Sōjirō's first good look at the boy who sat several rows behind him. As Sōjirō passed out papers at the teacher's request, the bell rang and he saw the boy jolt and look about, blinking wide eyes and fluffy white hair reminding Sōjirō of a surprised snowy owl. A smile tugged at his lips as he finished his classroom duties. Ten minutes later, most of the students were standing clustered among the long rows of tables. Sōjirō, curious, sought out white hair. He found the boy sitting alone, a distant look on his face as he stared out the window. Deciding to approach the boy himself, Sōjirō wove his way through the aisles until he stood before him. He casually leaned a hip on the table in front of the boy. He didn't bother with formalities before he vaguely gestured at him and greeted him with a cheery and rather tongue-in-cheek, "Are you the Tōshirō Hitsugaya, the young genius everyone's talking about?"

Tōshirō blinked at him, again reminiscent of an owl. "Who're you?"

Sōjirō offered him an easy grin. "I'm Sōjirō Kusaka. I wanted to welcome you to our class. Skipping up to sixth year before most people finish first- that's impressive."

Tōshirō looked away and shifted uncomfortably. "Not really."

Sōjirō cocked his head to one side and looked at him askance. "Eh? It really is something impressive. I've heard you're powerful, too. You should be proud."

Tōshirō shifted his gaze in another direction. He thought of his grandmother shivering and suffocating under the freezing weight of his uncontrolled power. "Not really."

Sōjirō blinked in surprise. "Most students would be bragging about having so much reiatsu and learning so quickly."

Tōshirō met his gaze for a moment, then glanced away. "I suppose I'm not most students then."

A long, awkward silence stretched between them as Tōshirō wondered when Sōjirō would leave him alone and Sōjirō wondered what sort of puzzle he had stumbled upon.

Tōshirō's reputation had preceded him. First had come gossip about such a young boy having been admitted to what was essentially a military academy. Next had come disbelieving whispers when the boy had started successfully plowing through the course material. Each time the boy was skipped forward a year a wave of incredulous gossip would move through the student body. Some were amazed at his progress and were curious how far he could go. Others were jealous or resentful and waited for the day the boy would hit an academic brick wall. Still others were superficially interested at best. Sōjirō counted himself among the curious. He had heard many things about Tōshirō Hitsugaya. He was known for his single-minded focus on his studies. He was often unnervingly serious for someone so young. He did not participate in any extracurricular activities. He did not spend downtime with friends. Actually, he seemed to not have any friends. He spent most of his free time in the library or various training areas. He was known to throw himself into whatever task was at hand and practice until scheduling or exhaustion stopped him. Yet now Sōjirō found that he did not seem to take any pride in his progress. It did not seem to correspond to the sheer effort the boy was exerting in order to learn as quickly as possible. So: A puzzle.

Sōjirō also thought he looked rather lonely.

The bell for their next class rang before Sōjirō could decide what to do or say. He reluctantly went back to his seat as the next instructor entered.

x§x§x

Sōjirō did not approach Tōshirō again for several days, though he did make a point of greeting him in passing. Tōshirō's face ranged from stunned to baffled every time he did so. It was both amusing and sad. It seemed the student body loved to talk about the boy but balked at actually speaking to him. Hitsugaya moved through the school in his own little cloud of isolation. Sōjirō supposed it must be difficult to make any firm ties with people who would only be your classmates for a month or two at most. The boy's dedication to his studies to the exclusion of all else only made matters worse for him socially. All things considered, it was obvious how the boy had come to be so separate from his peers.

It still bothered Sōjirō that someone with such talent and dedication could be so alone in a crowd.

Sōjirō himself wasn't exactly a social butterfly. He had come to Shin'ō specifically to learn how to be a competent shinigami and prioritized his studies over less important matters, so he was impressed by Tōshirō's determination and respected his work ethic. However, even he had managed to form social ties to classmates and could enjoy an afternoon off here and there to relax with them. He wondered if Tōshirō would be able to form ties with the sixth years- if he remembered correctly, the five months left in the school year would be the longest stretch he had been with any particular set of classmates.

Five days after their first meeting, Sōjirō decided to be proactive and deliberately befriend the boy.

x§x§x

Tōshirō thought he had largely grown used to the initial scramble in the first several days after skipping forward a year in the curriculum. Each time he did so was more difficult than the last academically, but he had the rest of the matter down to routine. He was used to getting very little sleep as he pored over library books trying to catch up to his new classes. He was used to the other students in the practical classes balking at his presence and trying to outdo the new kid. He was used to his hands aching from extensive note-taking and fierce zanjutsu spars with classmates who felt they had something to prove. He was used to the multitude of eyes on him at all times, weighing, measuring, judging him. He was used to the furtive whispers and the blatant sneers.

He was decidedly not used to anyone greeting him with casual cheer every time he encountered them. As if he was a welcome addition to their daily life. It threw him.

He noticed that Sōjirō Kusaka was one of the few people who watched him curiously but without any apparent judgment. Each day, he expected the judgment and dismissal to come. Each day, Kusaka defied his expectations and acted... friendly. He had enough insight to know that it wasn't good that the idea of someone outside his family treating him with a casual kindness was foreign to him. He had never really had a friend before. Momo was his foster-sister. He had huddled with her and Granny when it thundered when he was little; had shared a futon with her and helped her wash it when she wet the bed; had shared skinned knees and sticky rice and sweet watermelon as they grew up together in their home. Their relationship was fundamentally different from friendship with an outsider. He had always wanted a friend. When Momo had grown up and left for the Academy, he had felt the lack of friends more keenly- the neighborhood children had been more openly wary of him without Momo's buffering presence. He had learned to protect his heart by resigning himself to solitude.

But here was someone who broke the pattern Tōshirō had grown accustomed to. He paid attention to the teen as he had not bothered to with any previous classmates. Kusaka was a responsible student. He seemed to take his studies seriously but without strictness and was generally easygoing. He did not seem to have any particularly close friends, but he was on good terms with many of their classmates. He regarded Tōshirō curiously and possibly with some concern. He just seemed like a nice person who didn't have the prejudices the people of Junrinan and his classmates had. Tōshirō began actively assessing the pros and cons of responding to Kusaka in the time between classes, when he was too tired to think about reijutsu theory and zanjutsu forms.

Five days after their first meeting, Tōshirō decided to take a chance and actually respond to the teen.

x§x§x

Five days after their first meeting, they didn't have an opportunity to speak as the day was full of exams. The day allowed for zero socialization among the sixth years. If they weren't taking tests they were cramming during breaks and lunch. They were all rather twitchy by the end of the day. Tōshirō looked particularly harried as he didn't even have a full week of the sixth year curriculum behind him.

The results were posted on Tōshirō's sixth day in sixth year. He joined his classmates milling about the courtyard to see the results boards. Unable to see over everyone's heads, he threaded through the crowd until he could get to the front row. He found his name and scowled unhappily at his score.

"Is it really that bad, Hitsugaya-san?"

Tōshirō blinked and turned to the speaker. Sōjirō Kusaka stood beside him and was looking between the board and Tōshirō with obvious curiosity. When Tōshirō just stared at him with an expression of vague surprise, he continued. "I think nineteenth out of forty-two is pretty impressive for someone who hasn't even had the books for a week yet." He looked at Tōshirō with an expression of tentative expectation. He intended to start an actual conversation.

Tōshirō's first inclination was to keep quiet, but he remembered his decision to take a chance on the teen. After a long pause, he reluctantly admitted, "It's not the ranking that concerns me. It's-"

The boys were jostled by the crowd of students who had yet to see their scores. Sōjirō glanced around then looked Tōshirō in the eye and inclined his chin toward the far side of the courtyard with a hopeful look, inviting Tōshirō to continue the conversation more privately. Tōshirō hesitated again but nodded and followed Sōjirō through the crowd. He found himself both pleased that he didn't have to risk elbows to the face by shoving his own way through and annoyed that the taller boy was so easily plowing a path for him. They walked a bit beyond their classmates and settled in the shade of an old tree. Sōjirō casually leaned against its trunk. Tōshirō stood awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself.

Sōjirō turned to him and raised his eyebrows. "You were saying?"

Tōshirō pursed his lips. "It's not the ranking that concerns me. It's the scores."

Sōjirō's face relaxed into something like intrigue. "You don't think they're pretty much the same thing? At least when it comes to measuring performance?"

Tōshirō scowled. "No. The point spread between placements is wide and my overall score is shored up by my practicals. My practicals are decent, I guess. I need more practice. My written test scores are," he paused to grimace, "disappointing."

Sōjirō frowned. "You're being really hard on yourself."

"Hnn." Tōshirō glanced away sullenly.

"Seriously. I've been barely clinging to ninth place this year and I have all the previous five years of lessons and all of this year's behind me. That you've jumped in and scored so high so soon is really great."

Tōshirō flushed and shifted uncomfortably. "I still need to do better. I need to learn as quickly as I can."

"Why?"

This time Tōshirō looked less like a surprised owl and more like a rabbit that had sighted a wolf. He froze and didn't answer. He just stared.

Sōjirō frowned slightly and scratched his head. "I didn't realize that was such a problematic question. Do you just not want to say that you want to be first in the class?"

Tōshirō snapped out of his shock and glared. "No!"

"Because that isn't a goal to be ashamed of or anything. The ambition is actually pretty admira-"

"I told you, I don't care about the rankings!"

"Then why are you so obsessed with your scores and wanting to learn quickly?"

Tōshirō flushed hotly and squawked, "I'm not- not obsessed!"

"You're sure acting like it. And I can see why the gossip says you are."

Tōshirō flinched. "I don't care about gossip!" A half-truth. "And I have a good reason for wanting to- to- I need to learn faster!"

Sōjirō's face shifted into concerned confusion. "But why? You make it sound like it's desperately important."

Tōshirō shut his mouth tightly and pressed his lips into a thin line. He stared hard at the teen and started weighing his options. On one hand, he had decided to take a chance with this guy. On the other, this was a highly personal subject for a first conversation. Then again, he supposed he really could be giving the wrong impression to people who had no context for his behavior. And he did want a friend. But he wasn't sure he wanted to open himself up that much to a stranger. A nice stranger, but a stranger all the same.

Sōjirō met the hard stare head-on. He felt that he was being weighed, measured, judged, and steeled himself accordingly. He could see a muscle jumping in Tōshirō's jaw and could practically hear the gears in the boy's head grinding. The boy didn't seem to notice he was gesturing slightly, as though he was arguing with someone- with himself. He was the very picture of "conflicted."

There must really be something behind this, Sōjirō thought. Maybe something personal? Or embarrassing? Aloud, he quietly said, "I won't tell anyone. Or laugh, or anything. You know."

Tōshirō started, then shifted hesitantly, stare downgraded from hard to wary.

Sōjirō looked him in the eye and tried to project grave earnestness. "I mean it."

Tōshirō still felt skeptical. He looked around the courtyard at the milling students, thinking hard. Perhaps he could make an allowance for this person who seemed to actually give a damn about him. He suddenly felt that he needed to confide in someone. He needed to relieve the weight he was carrying. Maybe his classmate could understand. He teetered between recklessness and caution. He settled on sharing a minimally personal description of his reasoning.

Still looking around the courtyard with unfocused eyes, he quietly asked, "Remember how you said I'm powerful and should be proud?"

Sōjirō's face relaxed back into curiosity. He noted how the boy seemed awkward, shy, reluctant. Morose. Tōshirō wouldn't even look him in the eye. His furrowed brow and troubled gaze worried Sōjirō. He wondered what his compliment had to do with anything. "Yes?"

Tōshirō fidgeted, solemnly looked Sōjirō in the eye, and looked away again. Even softer than before, the boy said, "There's no use being proud of power you can't control. I may be powerful, but my lack of control makes me..." He trailed off and decided against saying dangerous. He gestured vaguely, trying to find words to fill in the space. "My lack of control is... problematic." He glanced around surreptitiously and walked behind the tree. Sōjirō followed. Tōshirō lay his small hand on the tree's trunk. He frowned in concentration. Frost bloomed from his fingertips and filled the ridges in the bark like growing vines.

Sōjirō's eyes went round in astonishment and his brows approached his hairline.

Tōshirō frowned harder and tried to stop the ice from forming. He failed. He withdrew his hand and stared at it as he flexed his fingers. Feathery ice continued to coalesce on them for a couple minutes before he managed to rein in his power. He wasn't wholly successful, as the ice stubbornly refused to melt. He flexed his fingers more sharply to break the ice and flicked it away. He looked tired and overwhelmed and melancholy. It was jarring to see that degree of weariness on such a young face. "I'm doing better but I need more control." He turned serious eyes on Sōjirō. "So I need to learn." He seemed to withdraw into himself a bit. He dipped his head so his hair partially obscured his eyes and guardedly watched Sōjirō's face for his reaction.

Sōjirō's face was still somewhat blank with surprise. His mind whirled. He couldn't settle on a single reaction. He was impressed and fascinated by what he had glimpsed of Tōshirō's power. On some level, he acknowledged it was intimidating. He blinked and really looked at Tōshirō. His face was downcast, his wary eyes peered out from behind the meager shield of his hair, and his shoulders were tense with defensiveness. He obviously expected some manner of very bad response. Compassion overtook Sōjirō's other reactions.

If just seeing it intimidates me then it must be even more intimidating for him since he needs to actually control it, he thought. He pulled himself together, earnest and serious. "I understand." He shifted awkwardly and faltered for a moment before he mustered a determined look. "I'll help you."

Tōshirō blinked. After a moment, his eyes went wide. "What?"

"I said I'll help you."

"I heard- I- I heard you. But what? What do you-? What?" Tōshirō was flustered and at a loss for words. He had expected... actually, he didn't know exactly what he had expected. Something bad. Not an offer of help.

Sōjirō grinned enthusiastically. "I mean, I still have my notes from my first five years here, and I have my notes for this year, and I could loan them to you to copy or talk about or whatever. And I can show you which books I used in the library, and maybe we can practice together or something-" He stopped himself at the sight of Tōshirō eying him like he was the strangest thing he had ever seen. He scratched his temple bashfully. "I mean. Maybe. If you want."

Tōshirō kept staring. He was still somewhat dubious. He wondered what motive the teen could have. Sōjirō seemed to mean well, but Tōshirō's prior experience with children pretending to be nice to him in front of Momo and being indifferent at best when she was not present lingered in his mind. Then again, such an offer seemed to be in character for the teen who was generally pleasant and helpful with all of his classmates and teachers. Tōshirō bit his lip. He wished he had someone to talk to about his concerns.

(A crystalline dragon shifted restlessly and struggled to suppress frustration, impatient to no longer be alone on the icy plain that was his home.)

Uncertain, Tōshirō looked up at Sōjirō and asked, "Why?"

Sōjirō shrugged, his face open and honest. "I dunno. It seems like the right thing to do."

Tōshirō raised one skeptical brow. "What would you get out of it?"

"Cynical, much?" Sōjirō laughed. "Well, I wasn't really looking for anything. If you want to look at it that way though, I guess you could say some review would probably be good for me. And I just like helping people. Who knows? Maybe we'll get to be friends."

Tōshirō stared at him again. A tentative smile tugged at his lips. "Who knows?"

x§x§x

That had been late Saturday afternoon. Sōjirō had promised to sort through his old notes that evening. Sunday was the only day they didn't have classes each week, so Sōjirō proposed meeting in the library the next day for Tōshirō's initial review of his notes. They had agreed to meet around ten. Tōshirō immediately planned two hours for simply looking at the notes followed by lunch, then an afternoon of actually copying notes. Sōjirō had been amused by his rapid planning. They parted ways eager for the day to come.

Sōjirō breezed into the library perfectly on time. He found Tōshirō already seated at a long table, reading a large book by the weak autumn sunlight streaming in the windows.

"Good morning, Hitsugaya-san."

There was the owlish look again. Tōshirō marked his page and shut the book. "Good morning, Kusaka-san."

Sōjirō grinned tiredly and proudly set a thick sheaf of paper on the table. "Here. These are my lecture notes from the first three years. Fourth year's when things got more complicated so there are a lot more notes from then on. I didn't have time to get through them last night. I figured we may as well start with this."

Tōshirō reached for the papers with the eagerness of a child being given a present. "Thank you so much, Kusaka-san."

Sōjirō sat and got comfortable while Tōshirō leafed through the pages. He set his own writing box* and paper on the table across from Tōshirō's. He looked up when the sound of ruffling paper stopped.

Tōshirō was looking at the papers uncertainly. He turned a bewildered stare on Sōjirō.

Sōjirō blinked. "What?"

"These notes... Is this your handwriting?"

"Yeah. Is something wrong?"

Tōshirō turned his perturbed stare back to the papers. "Um. Your writing is..." He rolled his shoulders and searched for a diplomatic word. "Let's go with 'minimally legible.'"

Sōjirō laughed bashfully. "Ah, well, yeah. I guess. I'm sorry. I write more carefully on things I have to turn in. I figured as long as I could read the notes I didn't have to try to make it neat. Maybe I should re-copy them with you to practice." He offered Tōshirō a sheepish grin.

Tōshirō couldn't help but smirk. "You do know there's a calligraphy class here, right?"

"Ah, I always figured I could work on my handwriting after I graduate. I want to make sure I learn as much as I can here. Improving my handwriting just isn't as important as learning kido theory or whatever, you know?"

Tōshirō smiled rather wryly. "I know exactly what you mean." He paused to look down at the papers again. "But... I think you're going to need to translate some of this." His face and voice went deadpan. "Parts of it are like some completely different language."

Sōjirō pouted. "It's not that bad! I can read it fine."

"Of course you can read the language of your people." Tōshirō's lips twitched.

Sōjirō grinned widely. "Oh, you're a cheeky little thing when you actually get to talking."

A scowl. "I'm not little."

Sōjirō failed to stop himself from snorting.

Between banter and studying, the day flew by in an enjoyable haze. It was an auspicious beginning.

x§x§x

The boys settled into a pattern in the weeks that followed. They met in the library after classes ended each day. They would do the assigned reading or writing associated with their current classes. Sōjirō would break in to point out things that had been covered before Tōshirō's promotion and give him more context. That done, they would pull out Sōjirō's old notes and review them. At their second library meeting, Sōjirō gave Tōshirō a library book he had found helpful near the beginning of the year. As Tōshirō read that, Sōjirō copied his old notes more neatly. (Tōshirō slyly complimented Sōjirō on graduating to "adequate legibility.") Every library meeting afterward featured Tōshirō copying the notes Sōjirō had rewritten for him the day before. Tōshirō turned out to be a voracious reader and as quick a study as gossip had made him out to be. He blew through Sōjirō's notes as fast as Sōjirō could copy them. That usually took them to dinnertime.

They began taking meals together. Dinner usually featured more casual discussion on the topics covered in the notes Tōshirō had copied that day. They both came to look forward to these evening discussions. Sōjirō was particularly pleased when Tōshirō asked a question or made an observation that caused him to reconsider something he thought he knew well. Each had a slightly different perspective on any given subject, so bouncing ideas around ended up helping them each gain a more thorough understanding of the topic at hand.

It seemed natural for them to become partners in their practical classes. They complimented each other well. In zanjutsu and hakuda, Sōjirō had strength and Tōshirō had agility. They soon added a spar to their afternoon schedule when it became clear that they were each forcing the other to learn to compensate for their weaknesses. Sōjirō racked his brain for stances and techniques he had learned over the years. Tōshirō had studied most of them to some degree but had rushed through the curriculum so quickly that he didn't get extensive practice time to perfect them. He had not learned any of the techniques from the first part of sixth year. Again, Sōjirō found that teaching Tōshirō helped him improve his own performance.

Throughout this time, they grew to truly be friends. They had similarly wry senses of humor, though Sōjirō was the more playful of the two. They were both exhilarated by each breakthrough they had in their studies. Though Tōshirō still worked very hard, he began to relax and actually enjoy his classes. Sōjirō hadn't consciously noticed just how constantly tense Tōshirō had been until the lines of stress eased from his face. At some point Sōjirō dropped all formality and simply started addressing his friend by his given name. Tōshirō was far more formal in general and continued to address Sōjirō by his family name, though he did drop the formal honorific. Tōshirō remained cautious in their friendship, so Sōjirō found himself leading their non-academic conversations. He told Tōshirō of his time in North Rukongai District 44 and regaled him with stories of his journey from that outlying district to Seireitei. It took some time, but he was able to coax Tōshirō into telling him a bit about Junrinan. He didn't go into much detail, but Sōjirō figured it was better than nothing. Reticence seemed to be Tōshirō's default social posture, so Sōjirō chose to be pleased that the boy would speak to him about personal things at all. He was obviously making an effort to open up to his new friend, but he acted like he was unsure how to do so. Sōjirō decided that things were going well enough that he could be patient.

(A stalwart blacksmith sat patiently and peacefully gazed at a distant mountain, having faith that he would not always be alone on the forest steppe that was his home.)

Tōshirō would shut down and become distant when certain topics came up. It usually had something to do with his time before coming to Seireitei- questions like what were your friends like? or what did you and your friends do for fun? At those times Tōshirō visibly withdrew and gave cryptic non-answers, then was distant and quiet until Sōjirō redirected them onto a different subject.

Sōjirō stumbled upon one such awkward subject during one of their independent spars near winter solstice. They had finished their hakuda spar and were resting before taking up zanjutsu. They sat with their backs against the training room wall, breathing heavily and staring out the bank of windows at the early winter twilight. As had become habit, Sōjirō started talking. Somehow, the topic of why exactly he came to Seireitei came up.

"I mean, District 44 wasn't really horrible, but it was rather poor. I didn't know what it meant back then but I was always hungry. I'm sure you know the feeling."

Tōshirō hummed in agreement. "Yeah, my sister and I ate a lot of watermelon. We grew them in a little patch behind the house. Granny had a decent income from sewing things for some of the richer people in Junrinan, though, so we didn't go hungry."

Sōjirō smiled a bit sadly. "Ah, you were lucky. Food could be hard to get in 44th. When I was younger I was all right with eating mostly from this scrawny little overgrown orchard someone had just abandoned. But I got hungrier as I got older. I went into one of the little towns to look for a way to get food. I ended up working for some guy who made dyes to sell to the nicer districts. He gave me rice in exchange for picking all these flowers and stuff. It was easy and interesting, so I was pretty happy.

"One day a Hollow showed up. I had never seen one before and was terrified. It turned out some shinigami had been tracking it, so they caught up before it could do more than rough up a few people. Their fight was pretty short but it was amazing to me. They looked so brave and professional and strong. I wanted to be like them. Before they left one of them told me about how being hungry means you have enough reiatsu to do something with it and told me about the Academy. I saved up a bit of rice and left not long after." He affected false grandeur and gestured expansively. "And so began my epic journey."

Tōshirō snorted in amusement.

Sōjirō grinned. "It was epic, relatively speaking. I mean, you had to, what, cross the street and knock on the gate?"

Tōshirō smirked. "Something like that."

Sōjirō laughed. "So anyway, traveling here took awhile. I saw a few more shinigami on my way. I think they could really do more for the outer districts, but they generally seemed to do their best to protect the people from Hollows. By the time I got to Seireitei I was even more determined to be like that." Sōjirō turned to Tōshirō and looked determined and hopeful. "So I swear to become a shinigami and put my life at stake for Soul Society!"

Tōshirō's mouth curled into a slight smile. "Oh yeah? I'm gonna..." He trailed off. His pleasant expression faded into distant melancholy. His brow furrowed slightly. Just like that, he shut down.

Sōjirō directed a worried look at his friend. He had no way of knowing that Tōshirō didn't have a goal beyond controlling his power well enough to no longer be a threat to his grandmother. He hadn't particularly wanted to become a shinigami. It had been a means to an end. Tōshirō was suddenly faced with the realization that he didn't know what he wanted for his future. He had come to truly enjoy learning to be a shinigami, though, and he now had a great friend. Perhaps he really should figure out what he wanted to do with his life. Would he be content as an unseated shinigami? He wanted to say Yes, I'll be happy with anything as long as I can control my power enough to not be a threat to my loved ones. But in the past several weeks he had found the true thrill in accomplishment, in sharing that accomplishment, in learning just what his power allowed him to do. He began to think that perhaps he did not want to stop advancing, did not want to settle for damage control. Perhaps he wanted to become a truly strong shinigami. Perhaps his dangerous power could be harnessed to actively protect his loved ones. It was an entirely new thought that would have seemed foreign even two months earlier.

(A glimmering dragon lifted his head, suddenly alert. The endless blizzard calmed slightly for the first time in his world's history. Tōshirō would see the dragon and its icy home in his dreams more clearly that night.)

"Tōshirō? What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

Tōshirō blinked, jarred out of his rumination. As was his nature, he tucked the thought deep in the back of his mind to pick apart at his leisure. He noticed his friend's concerned frown. "No, I'm fine. Just something I need to think about."

x§x§x

Their next set of exams loomed before them as the year drew to a close. The sixth years were under a great deal of pressure as the results of this set of exams was known to be used as a catalog of sorts for those Divisions who were looking for specific recruits. This set of exams would be their best means of gaining the right sort of attention. They knew that once they returned from their New Year holiday, competition would escalate as their graduation date grew closer. They would have random visits from various seated officers sent to observe students and classes. Most of the students dissolved into an obsessive studying frenzy, planning to use the New Year holiday to recover from the exams and prepare themselves for the hell that would be their last term. The sixth year students were understandably very tense.

Tōshirō and Sōjirō were more confident than many because of their extensive review, but they were not immune to jitters. Like many of their classmates, they studied every waking moment and even brought books to their meals.

On their last day of preparation, Sōjirō slammed a book shut and called for a stop. "Ugh, that's it. I've read so much I swear my eyes should be bleeding," he groaned. "If I don't know it now, I won't know it tomorrow. Too bad. Let's go do something else so our eyes don't fall out of our heads before the test."

Tōshirō scoffed and said he was being melodramatic, but didn't disagree with the sentiment. He tiredly closed his own book and reached up to rub his own bloodshot eyes. They then abandoned the library, stopped by Sōjirō's room so he could collect some candy he had scrounged up, and passed the evening playing an eccentric game of shiritori* that eventually devolved into helpless laughter.

The exams were a grueling two-day nightmare. Results were posted publicly on the afternoon of December 28th. Everyone crowded the courtyard to check their scores before those with places to go left for the holiday. Tōshirō and Sōjirō met up, looked each other in the eye, steeled themselves, and turned to the boards together. They slowly pressed forward through a multitude of exhausted faces and relieved and devastated murmurs. They mirrored each other, eyes going wide at the placements.

Kusaka, Sōjirō: 5th

Hitsugaya, Tōshirō: 2nd

Sōjirō laughed aloud in delight. He turned to Tōshirō and cheekily asked, "So, how's the point spread this time around, Tōshirō?"

Tōshirō faked a scowl and swatted Sōjirō's arm, looking rather flustered.

Sōjirō just grinned. "You jumped up seventeen places in six weeks! Wow, Tōshirō, you really are a genius!"

Modesty and pride warred within Tōshirō. Outwardly, he smiled and scratched his head shyly. "It doesn't matter." What mattered more to him was the improved understanding and control he had over his power. He looked up at his friend. "And you improved, too. Congratulations."

They wandered away from the courtyard, giddy with success. They meandered across the academy grounds, crunching through frosted grass. They didn't say much. They just basked in the glow of accomplishment and relief from the stress of the past weeks.

They had nearly come full circle when a girl's distant voice yelled, "Shiro-chaaaaaan!"

Sōjirō blinked and cast about for the speaker. Tōshirō froze, eyes wide. "Oh. Oh. I forgot." There was something between dread and panic in his voice.

Sōjirō quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "Forgot what?"

"Ah! Shiro-chan! There you are!" A bubbly teenage girl with warm brown hair veered their way, looking overjoyed.

A teasing smirk danced across Sōjirō's face. "Did you forget to tell me you have a girlfriend, Shiro-chaaan?" He glanced at the girl again, noting her black shihakusho. "Ooh, an older girlfriend?"

Tōshirō whipped around to look at Sōjirō in horror. "What?! No! That's my sister!"

Sōjirō burst out in wild laughter just as the girl reached them. She looked at him curiously then asked her brother, "Shiro-chan, what's so funny?"

Tōshirō flushed. "Don't call me Shiro-chan, Bedwetter!"

Sōjirō broke in with a sly grin. "What's funny is Tōshirō was just going to tell me about his glfmrh-"

Tōshirō slapped his hand over Sōjirō's mouth and hissed, "Shut up, you liar!"

The girl blinked. "Your what, Shiro-chan?"

Tōshirō's eyebrow developed a tic. "My nothing. Kusaka's making things up. He thinks he's hilarious." He punctuated his statement with a formidable glare at his friend, who just kept grinning.

The girl giggled. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Shiro-chan?"

Tōshirō withdrew his hand and grimaced. His face was long-suffering and sullen when he muttered, "Hinamori, this is my friend, Sōjirō Kusaka. Kusaka, this is my sister, Momo Hinamori."

The two bowed and exchanged polite greetings. Momo turned to her foster brother. "You're as formal as ever, Shiro-chan," she quipped.

Her brother glowered at her. "Someone has to be. And don't call me Shiro-chan!" He saw the gleam in Sōjirō's eye that said the damage was already done and he would be hearing that name from his friend often in the near future. Dammit.

Momo smiled. Sōjirō thought she seemed the type of person who was full of smiles for all occasions. "Did you get my note?"

Tōshirō looked away sulkily and reluctantly answered that he had.

"Great!" Momo held up a small canvas bag. "I have my things for the holiday. Did you get yours ready?"

He winced. "I completely forgot. I haven't been able to think of much of anything but the end of term exams."

Sympathy softened her face. "It's all right. I remember cram week." She perked up. "How did you do?"

Tōshirō floundered awkwardly. "I, uh, um-"

Sōjirō grinned and directed a sly look at his friend, then proudly clapped him on the back. "Our Shiro-chan here jumped up seventeen places to take second in the class, Hinamori-san."

Tōshirō scowled and snarled, "Don't you start-"

Momo interrupted him with a squeal of delight. She bounced and clapped in excitement. "Shiro-chan! I'm so proud of you!" She caught him in a joyful hug.

Tōshirō blushed hotly. He still had an awkward relationship with praise. Seeking to deflect Momo's attention, he mumbled, "It's because Kusaka helped me. I'd still be behind if he hadn't shared his notes and taught me the other sixth year stuff. And he practiced with me a lot."

Momo released her brother and turned her joyful admiration on his friend. "Oh! Thank you for taking my brother under your wing, Kusaka-san!" She bowed more deeply than before. "Thank you for taking care of him!"

Sōjirō nodded slightly, then laughed and waved a hand dismissively. "Really, it was nothing. I was glad to help. It was the right thing to do and hey, I got a pretty good friend out of it." He and Tōshirō looked at each other and grinned.

Momo's smile was bright as summer sunshine. "How did you do on the exams, Kusaka-san? Ah! If you taught Shiro-chan, then you must be the one who got first place! Congratulations!"

Tōshirō cringed slightly. Sōjirō laughed awkwardly. "Ah, well, about that, Hinamori-san... Actually, I came in fifth."

Momo stared blankly for a moment before her face took on an expression of embarrassed shock. She hovered a hand over her open mouth and cried, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have assumed!"

Sōjirō waved his hands. "Really, it's fine-"

"I just thought- Oh, I'm so silly! Fifth is really good, too! Especially in the Special Advanced Class! When I was in it, the top six were so close we were constantly shuffling places. So I'm sure- I'm sure it was very close, right? I mean-"

Tōshirō nudged her and said in an undertone, "Hinamori, you're digging yourself deeper."

Momo's face fell in dismay. "I'm so sorry!"

Sōjirō gave her a wan smile. "It's okay, really. I did improve and I am happy with my scores."

Momo sagged in relief. "I'm so glad! And I really am sorry. That was really awkward. I- ah!" She squeaked as Tōshirō pinched her. She scolded him with a scandalized "Shiro-chan!"

"You're doing that thing where you just keep rambling when it's best to change the subject," he drawled.

Momo's blush deepened. "O-oh." Her voice was tiny. "Um... um... S-so, Shiro-chan, you need to get your things. And I thought we'd stop by the market district before we leave Seireitei. I saved up some of my pay. I thought we could treat Granny to something nice for our osechi* this year. The sticky rice for the ozoni* will be cheaper in Junrinan, so we can get that there."

Tōshirō scratched his temple absentmindedly. "That sounds like a good plan. Maybe you should go to the market now. It's getting late and I might not pack fast enough. I'll catch up to you at the gate."

Momo's smile returned, still a bit subdued. "That's a good idea Shiro-chan. I'll see you there." She turned to Sōjirō and bowed again. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Kusaka-san. I'm sorry about the, um, misunderstanding. Happy New Year!"

Sōjirō bowed. "The pleasure was all mine, Hinamori-san. And Happy New Year to you, as well."

The boys watched her hurry away. Sōjirō spoke up, curious. "So, you're going home for the New Year?"

Tōshirō froze for a moment and winced. "Ah. I forgot to tell you. Yeah, we're going to go visit Granny and do all the traditional cleaning and cooking stuff since we haven't been home in so long." He looked at Sōjirō with eyes full of regret. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

Sōjirō smiled somewhat lopsidedly. "It's fine. We were both pretty busy. I'm glad you have family to celebrate with. Have fun, okay?" He is too polite to say I wish I could go with you.

(A brawny blacksmith lifted his head, suddenly concerned. He reached out and caught the first flake of snow that had ever appeared in his world. Sōjirō would see neither smith nor newly-chilled world in his dreams that night.)

Tōshirō looked at him with a mixture of emotions on his face. There was guilt there. Oddly, vulnerability. An expression of wanting to say something- he even opened his mouth to speak- but he couldn't get the words out. He faltered, uncertain, and pursed his lips unhappily.

Sōjirō knew the signs of a Tōshirō Hitsugaya Internal Debate when he saw them. He wondered what the boy had considered and second-guessed saying. He had no way of knowing that Tōshirō had been considering the appropriateness of inviting Sōjirō to join him for the holiday. When it came down to it, Tōshirō was still socially awkward and shy, plus he didn't want to impose upon his grandmother unannounced. He didn't want to leave his friend, but he had cherished the times his family could be together on their own for a holiday since Momo had left. He was torn.

Tōshirō's voice was worried and quiet when he asked, "Are you sure? I mean, will you be okay...?"

Sōjirō smirked arrogantly. "I'm a big boy. I can handle ten days without you." He shifted to a reassuring smile. "Don't know about eleven, though. Have fun. Tell me all about it when you get back, okay?"

Tōshirō looked uncertain, but his face settled into a quiet smile. "Yeah. I will."

x§x§x

The dormitories and courtyards of Shin'ō Academy hosted a flurry of activity that evening. Students parted ways for the holiday, wandered around socializing, or retired to their rooms to sleep off the exhaustion from surviving the week. The classrooms sat empty. Faculty gradually trickled out of the administrative halls, eager to start their own holidays.

Gengorō Ōnabara strode purposefully down one of said administrative halls, a large stack of file folders in his arms. He approached a particular door and juggled the files into one arm to knock. A pleasant male voice called out, "Come in!"

Ōnabara slid the door open and entered. A slight smile crossed his usually stoic face."Good afternoon, Captain Aizen. Getting ready for the holiday?"

Sōsuke Aizen put down his brush and set aside the paper he had been writing on. He smiled warmly and adjusted his glasses. Their lenses reflected the soft orange twilight that was beginning to fade from the office window. "Ah, good afternoon, Ōnabara-sensei. Yes. I'm reviewing the progress of my students and drawing up lesson plans for the final term."

Ōnabara chuckled. "Ever the hard-working planner. Most of the instructors have already fled."

Aizen smiled mischievously. "Ah, but if I finish my lesson plans now I don't have to worry about them over the holidays. I'll be able to relax more."

Ōnabara laughed outright. "Very true. I wish Tanizaki-sensei would take a page out of your book. She never seems to learn. Kurosawa-sensei will probably drag her in the day before classes resume and browbeat her into acting responsible."

"She is dependable when it comes down to being erratically entertaining, though." Aizen's grin was downright impish.

"Also very true, haha!" Ōnabara held up the folders. "I brought the promising sixth year student dossiers, as usual."

"So I see. They should make for some interesting reading over the holiday." Aizen gestured for Ōnabara to set the stack on his desk.

Ōnabara set them down and smirked. "If I didn't know better I'd say you juggle your duties in Fifth and your calligraphy classes here just to have first dibs on the student records."

"Of course not. I simply feel calligraphy is an under-appreciated art that the students would do well to study. To broaden their horizons, as it were." Aizen winked conspiratorially. His face then turned curious. "Any students of note this year?"

"Yes, actually. The top eleven or so in the Special Advanced Class are quite good. First is a very well-rounded and consistent student who would probably do well in your Division. But I think you will find the second place and fifth place students most interesting." Ōnabara took the top two folders from the top of the stack, turned them, and casually tossed them in front of Aizen.

Aizen raised one eyebrow and reached for the folders. "Oh? Second and fifth? Not first?" He set the two folders next to each other and opened them to their first pages: a performance summary and photo. "Tōshirō Hitsugaya and Sōjirō Kusaka. Ah, Hitsugaya is the storied prodigy who has devoured the entire curriculum in one school year. He is quite interesting. Hmm. I haven't heard anything about this Kusaka boy, though."

Ōnabara leaned back and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I thought that might be the case. Kusaka is a pleasant enough boy and doesn't make any waves. He has been a consistently good student. He is a hard worker. He had held steady at ninth in his class from late in fourth year through the last progress exams two months ago. The students who had been placing above him didn't do any worse than before. The score jump is all on him."

Aizen's other brow joined the first. Impressed, he asked, "He jumped four places in two months?"

Ōnabara smirked. "Technically, five places. Hitsugaya knocked everyone after first place down a peg. Had Kusaka's scores held steady, he would have been bumped down to tenth."

Aizen tilted his head to one side and looked fascinated. "Yet, he is fifth. What happened?"

Ōnabara's smirk widened. "Hitsugaya transferred into the class."

"You are teasing me, old friend." Aizen looked up at him with mild reproach. "How did that raise his scores? As you said, it seems Hitsugaya's presence should have lowered his placement."

"When Hitsugaya transferred in, Kusaka befriended him. Their lead instructor reports that after the last progress tests- ah, they happened only a few days after Hitsugaya moved to sixth year so he wasn't prepared for them and didn't place as high as usual- Anyway, it seems Kusaka took the initiative and used his notes to bring the kid up to speed. As far as the instructor could tell, they both ended up doing an intensive review of the entire six-year curriculum. Kusaka ended up benefiting from that. They seem enthusiastic about learning. They work very well together. Even in practical classes- their fighting strengths and weaknesses compliment each other. I would advise that you try to snap up the pair of them like you got Hinamori, Kira, and Abarai awhile back. They will progress best as a team. The two of them drive each other to success. Their potential for growth is quite promising. They would likely become competent officers within a decade or two. They both have strong reiatsu, too. Hitsugaya more so than Kusaka, but Kusaka's is nothing to sneeze at. You could say they're quite the packaged deal."

Aizen slowly set his elbows on the desk, laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on them. He looked down at the photos, intrigued. "You were right. I am very interested in them."

Ōnabara laughed and headed for the door. "I thought so. Happy reading and plotting, Captain. And Happy New Year."

Aizen chuckled lightly. "Yes, Happy New Year."

The door clicked shut. Aizen stared down at the photos with heavy-lidded eyes. He quietly murmured, "Now, what am I to do with you?"

x§x§x

x§x§x

x§x§x

*innocent whistling*

Let me know what you think. Con/crit welcome.

FOOTNOTES

writing box: Soul society seems rather old-timey so I have them using brushes and ink. People would keep all the supplies- ink stone, water dripper, brushes, etc.- in a special box.

shiritori: a Japanese word game in which the players are required to say a word which begins with the final kana of the previous word.

osechi: Food people prepare in advance to eat in the first days of the New Year, when stores are closed and it's tradition to not cook.

ozoni: a soup made with mochi

Also, it is canon that Aizen taught a calligraphy class at the Academy. Look at the trivia section of his page on the Bleach wiki for the citation.

version one: 8/28/14