Common Ground

Note: Written for the Homemade Theme Challenge I started with denimlacedream on livejournal, with the theme 'Demolition'. I was really eager to write something with Hitsugaya (that wasn't a crackfic), and this is the first thing that's come out well enough to merit posting. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of all the lovely people who bring it to us (whether it's the manga, anime, games, etc), and while I enjoy making fanworks for the series, I do not own it, nor do I make any sort of profit from this writing.

Description: Matsumoto isn't one to quietly suffer everyone's pity and Hitsugaya isn't one to quietly suffer her temper.

She saw the looks when people passed her in the corridors, the pitying expressions quickly masked behind false cheer and imposed kindnesses. Matsumoto Rangiku was going to drown in kindness before anyone realized that she didn't want it from them. If people weren't trying to smother her in affectionate comfort, they tried to act normal, as if she had never had any connection to one of the greatest traitors in the history of Soul Society. She reported to duty every morning, uncomfortably aware that even her taichou seemed to cast sympathetic glances when he thought she wasn't looking. Any other time, Hitsugaya-taichou seemed almost normal; too normal, given the circumstances.

He grumped around the office, complained that she was lazy, but never actually made good on his threats. If she needed space, she had all the space she could possibly ever want; he wasn't likely to press the issue with her, but was just as unlikely to coddle her as so many others seemed hellbent on doing. If he gave her a kind look (that was, one that didn't seem like a scowl), it wasn't because he felt sorry for her connection to Ichimaru-taichou, it was because he genuinely meant it.

She stomped to her desk one morning, tossed her mane of brilliant hair over one shoulder, and seized a stack of paperwork with livid fervor. Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his own paperwork, clearly taken aback.

"Matsumoto?" He started to rise from the desk, hands planted firmly on either side of the papers he had been examining. "Is everything okay?"

"Perfect, taichou," She waved the question off airily, but never looked up from her brutal assault on the papers. "Perfectly peachy."

Hitsugaya gave a non-committal grunt before clearing his throat. "Well, if you would refrain from destroying your work? It would make the task much more enjoyable in that you wouldn't have to do it over."

At this, Matsumoto looked up long enough to shoot a piercing glare across the room to her companion's desk. "Thank you, Hitsugaya-taichou."

Refraining from deepening his frown, Hitsugaya wrinkled his brow and turned back to his work. If it was important, Matsumoto would certainly tell him in due time. If it was about Ichimaru-taichou… well, there was nothing he could do about it but commiserate on what Aizen-taichou had taken from both of them. He dug his pen a little deeper into the paper before taking a calming breath and loosening his ever-tightening grip on the pen. If his own tension weren't already enough to cut the air, Matsumoto was all but oozing it from her side of the room.

After a tense hour, she felt the ink pellet burst from within the pen and she threw it across the room, neatly embedding the point in the emblem for the Tenth Division. "I can't do this shit anymore!" Snatching up a large paperweight, she chucked itafter the pen before Hitsugaya could jump to his feet to stop her.

"Matsumoto!" He cried, and there was a general shifting from outside the doors of the office. Clearly, the noise had attracted several members of the division, who were now scrambling to escape before they could be caught up in Matsumoto's wrath. Hitsugaya, on the other hand, had leaped over his desk and grabbed a flailing arm as his fuku-taichou continued the demolition of their office.

"Matsumoto, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

She finally slumped back into her chair. "I can't take it anymore, taichou. I hate these pitying looks people give me because of Gi—Ichimaru-taichou. If it weren't bad enough without them trying to help. And then this… this shit." She gestured toward the heap of papers and pulled her wrist away from his tight grip.

"You could always take the day off, Matsumoto." Hitsugaya kept his voice even and cool and raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I would prefer the extra work over having my office destroyed."

She returned the cool expression. "And never hear the end of it from you?"

Hitsugaya took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the problem then, Matsumoto?"

"Ichimaru-taichou. This whole mess with Aizen, and just… It's as though everyone is expecting me to break down, or lose my mind, or… I don't know. They're so kind to me, but I don't want them to be. It's like they're ridiculing me for not seeing him for who he was… for seeing him as he was in my heart." She buried her face in her hands in shame and half anticipating Hitsugaya to echo the same sentiments to her.

Instead, he walked away. Perching himself on his own desk, he indicated that she should sit on the couch. "I don't think that, you know." He began quietly. "Even if I had suspected Ichimaru-taichou from the beginning, I never once suspected that Aizen was involved. From the very start, they worked very hard to fool me into thinking that Aizen was trying to counteract whatever Ichimaru-taichou was doing. Doesn't that make me just as much a fool as you?"

"But everyone was fooled by Aizen-taichou." Matsumoto argued, plucking at her hakama.

"Then you are no more a fool than anyone else. Ichimaru-taichou was your childhood friend?"

She nodded numbly, acutely aware of the stab aimed directly through her heart. "He… yes."

"Hinamori was my childhood friend."

Matsumoto tried to piece together precisely why Hitsugaya was reminding her of this. Everyone knew that Hinamori and Hitsugaya had grown up together; that he had followed her to the academy because of Matsumoto's influence, only to surpass both herself and Hinamori. Just as suddenly, she was reminded of the prone form of the younger fuku-taichou, carefully imprisoned after attempting to kill her old friend. Standing on the wrong end of his oldest friend's sword had to have been as sobering as holding hers to Ichimaru's throat.

"Hitsugaya-taichou?" She murmured, after a long pause.

"Hm?"

"Do you have feelings for Hinamori-kun?"

"She is my oldest friend. Naturally, I have a lot of feelings for Hinamori." He offered simply, leaping nimbly off the desk. "I feel angry that she was betrayed by the man she admired and loved so much. I feel regret that I couldn't prevent what happened to her. I feel sadness that she will never…" He paused, swallowed thickly, and pressed on. "She will never be who she once was for Aizen's hypnosis. She cannot know what her real feelings are any longer, and will never really know what feelings came from her heart and what came from his will. Just as well, Ichimaru-taichou will never be who he once was for Aizen's inteference."

"Taichou…" Matsumoto leaned over the back of the couch, wishing Hitsugaya was less frigid so she might feel comfortable extending warmth to him.

"I thought you hated pity, Matsumoto."

Catching his meaning instantly, she straightened. "Sorry, taichou."

He waved a hand dismissively and paced around the couch for a moment. "There is no room there for any of my other feelings, Matsumoto. We will simply have to endure our feelings and everyone else's pity until they both run out."

Matsumoto wanted to tell him that she thought it very unlikely that she would run out of feelings for Ichimaru Gin, and just as unlikely for him to casually endure the unrequited feelings for Hinamori-kun, but kept silent. Despite his cool front, Hitsugaya clearly didn't think it was likely either. When he returned to his desk, he offered her a new pen. She accepted it and took a few extra ink pellets before returning somberly to her own desk.

"Yes, I suppose we will, taichou."

End