Disclaimer: All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

In Spite of Appearances

CHAPTER ONE

If Miyamoto didn't have to go directly to the Tenth's offices to deliver this report, then he would have avoided doing so. Sending a Hell Butterfly would have been much preferable, but it just would not have been proper, however much he might have wished it otherwise.

And so he strode down the hall, taking great care not to move too slowly. That would have been his nervousness taking over, and he simply would not allow that. Or he could try not to allow it, at the very least. True, the offices were much cleaner and more organized than they once were, owing to the newly promoted captain. However, what disturbed Miyamoto the was the very obvious tension between said captain and the longstanding vice-captain. The two put on a good show for the division at large, but behind closed doors, they were often at each other's throats.

Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou was too small to actually reach Matsumoto-fukutaichou's throat. The sentiment still carried well enough.

As he turned a corner, Miyamoto shuddered as a blast of icy air blew up the loose sleeves of his shihakushou. And then he paused, uncertain if he should continue. It was the middle of summer, and thus such chilly winds would not spring up out of nowhere on their own. Miyamoto knew what caused them, though, and it took all of his willpower to not turn and flee in the opposite direction.

Unnaturally cold air meant that Hitsugaya-taichou was angry.

Miyamoto took a moment to compose himself. He was the division's third seat, not some rookie. He would not be swayed from his duty just because of a little bit of unpleasantness. And perhaps the captain would not take out his issues with the vice-captain on him. Hitsugaya-taichou was reasonable. Usually.

With this in mind, Miyamoto continued his trek to the office, very proud of himself for marshalling his courage and also for not shivering at the progressively more frigid air. All he had to do was think of it as refreshing. A nice break on a hot summer day. Not that this line of thought was really helping him all that much. He would just have to get used to this, he imagined.

He halted just before the door, hearing Hitsugaya-taichou's sharp voice, every bit as pointed and deadly as his blade. Following that were Matsumoto-fukutaichou's honeyed tones, threatening to suffocate with their sweetness. Miyamoto tried to close his ears to their conversation, but eventually decided that it was best to just deliver the report and get this over with.

Maybe giving his superiors something to do would keep them from sniping at each other for a while.

He knocked firmly on the door. "Hitsugaya-taichou? Third seat Miyamoto with an urgent report regarding the most recent patrol inside West District Forty-Eight."

"Matsumoto, do I really have to go over this again?" Hitsugaya's voice was dry, and carefully emotionless, though he would have liked little better than to just yell. But yelling was childish and therefore beneath him. So he stuck with the cold tone, and pointed to the office couch. "That is not here so that you can nap on it during work hours. It is also not here as a place that you can hide your undone paperwork."

He watched with growing agitation as Matsumoto pouted, and flopped dramatically onto the couch. What the hell was that kind of behaviour for? He was trying to explain responsibility, and she clearly was not taking him seriously at all. A vein in his forehead twitched, and one hand clenched into a fist. No yelling.

"Well what's it here for then? Just to take up space?"

No running a hand down his face, either. That just wasn't dignified. And he was a dignified captain, damn it. He would make everyone see that, someday. For the time being, his short tenure seemed to make it difficult for a lot of people to take him seriously. But Matsumoto of all people should have known better. And yet here she was, in a constant state of insubordination.

Hitsugaya would have outlined -- again – that the couch was for the comfort of guests rather than the vice-captain's personal napping spot, but he was saved by the sound of a knock on the door and the announcement of an urgent report. A quick glance in Matsumoto's direction showed that she had gotten to her feet, looking every bit as attentive as someone of her rank should be. Why couldn't she do that all the time?

"Then don't just stand out there. Come in and report," he said tersely, forgetting to smooth out his tone. It wasn't Miyamoto that had worked him into this state of annoyance, after all. Hitsugaya always tried to keep his emotions directed toward the proper target. Not to say that he always succeeded, but the effort counted for something in his mind.

He heard Matsumoto make a reproachful noise at the sharpness in his voice. Well, it was her fault in the first place for upsetting him. He ignored the chiding. She didn't have the right to do that anymore; he was her commanding officer now. One day, he would get it through her head that such a thing meant that she had to listen to him. It wasn't a difficult concept.

Miyamoto slid the door open, warily glancing between him and Matsumoto. Had he heard them arguing? Oh, that would just be wonderful. The division did not need to see its commanders unable to get along; that could cause chaos, especially since his promotion was not widely accepted among the lesser ranks. Further proof that a child should not have been put in command, they would say. Idiots.

After swallowing, Miyamoto finally found it in himself to speak. "Sir. The patrolling squad encountered some danger, most likely in the form of one or more Hollows, but we are unable to determine the exact cause at this point. Casualties are heavy, and those that survived are in no state to relay information."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened. What the hell? Similar things had been happening to other squads in other divisions for the past few weeks, but he'd put that off to inattentiveness or poor training. He knew his squads, though. They stayed alert while on assignment, and he'd overseen much of their training himself. No, a squad of his would not have been caught unprepared. This bore investigation.

"No one can even talk?" Matsumoto broke in, folding her arms beneath her chest. An unnaturally serious expression came over her usually too-cheerful features. "Whatever is out there must have done a number on them."

Privately, Hitsugaya agreed, but he gave her no acknowledgement, keeping his attention firmly on Miyamoto. "What were the exact co-ordinates of this disturbance?" He set his jaw; whatever had taken out any of his subordinates was going to find itself on the wrong side of his zanpakutou.

Miyamoto swallowed nervously. "That much, I do not know, Hitsugaya-taichou. I got the report when I was at the Fourth checking in on a couple of my people. Someone got a Hell Butterfly to the Fourth before being injured or killed, so they were the first on the scene."

"Meaning that they will have the most accurate information." So, it looked as though a visit to the Fourth was in order. He had been planning to go anyway, to assess the damage for himself, but any other information he could glean was more than welcome. He nodded stiffly. "You are dismissed, Miyamoto. Return to your squad. I will handle things from here."

"I think you mean 'we', Toushirou-kun," Matsumoto piped up suddenly. She bent to retrieve her zanpakutou from the side of the couch – she claimed it was impossible to nap properly while wearing it – and secured it at her hip.

Hitsugaya barely noticed Miyamoto give a hurried bow and flee before turning to glare at Matsumoto. How dare she correct him in front of a subordinate? And that was certainly no way to address her captain. He pitied anyone who had been her superior officer in the past; trying to keep her in line was very much akin to bashing one's head against the wall. One would think that she could show a little more respect to someone she considered a friend.

"Matsumoto. You are not to address me that way. I never liked it before, and it's even more inappropriate now." His eyes narrowed, and his voice sharpened. "And what the hell was with correcting me in front of Miyamoto? I don't need you undermining my authority."

Matsumoto blinked at him, and then her face hardened. "I don't see what's wrong with talking to you like a friend. And this incident concerns me as much as it does you. I'm not gonna let you go off alone against whatever did this."

He scoffed, turned on his heel, and stepped toward the door. Glaring at her never did any good, anyway. The woman just did whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased. "I don't need a nanny."

"No, but you do need a vice-captain. It's why we're here, you know."

Hitsugaya halted, grinding his teeth. She just had to bring that up, didn't she? He was quite capable of handling whatever was going on without her help. But captains were supposed to work in tandem with their vice captains. He sighed in resignation; he'd never been good at teamwork, but it looked as though he was going to have to try. Lucky him.

"Fine. Then come on." Oh, how he hated giving in. And yet he seemed to do it so often when it came to Matsumoto. Maybe he was just trying to avoid the whining that would come if he kept on refusing her whims. "Send a Hell Butterfly on ahead to Unohana-taichou, letting her know that we're coming and the purpose of our visit."

At this, Matsumoto breezed past him, cheeky smile firmly in place. What the hell was that for?

"Already done, Toushirou-kun," she said airily. "I had plenty of time to send one off while you were standing there fuming at me. You'd better come along; a lady doesn't appreciate being kept waiting."

For a moment, Hitsugaya just stood there, eyes wide with indignation. She hadn't even been paying attention to him. And she'd acted as though he had already given his consent before it had even happened. That woman . . . No. There was no time for that right now.

And so he hurried to catch up with Matsumoto, seething silently that he had to walk so quickly to catch up to her normal pace. One of these days, he'd be tall enough that this would not be an issue, but for now he had to deal with it. He took up position in front of her, since a captain should always be two steps ahead of his vice-captain, and gave her a cutting glance out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

Matsumoto sat straight-backed in a chair in the Fourth's waiting room. She didn't even bother to conceal the rolling of her eyes at Toushirou, who was standing ramrod-straight with his small arms crossed impatiently over his chest. Just because it was a serious situation didn't mean that he couldn't sit down. He obviously knew nothing of such things, and she found that rather sad. Children should not be so grim.

"You know, Toushi . . . I mean, Captain," she corrected herself. Having known him for so long, having met him as an untrained and somewhat frightened child, she found it very difficult to refer to him by his title. Why was that so important, anyway? "You can take a bit of a load off; I wouldn't think any less of you for it."

The tightening of his jaw was the only indication that he had heard her. Not talking now, was he? That certainly wouldn't do. It was as though he had no idea of how a captain and vice-captain were supposed to get along together. Then again, Toushirou had come from the Thirteenth, where there was no one of her rank. Well, she would simply have to teach him how things worked, whether he wanted to learn or not.

Matsumoto opened her mouth to reply to him, but before she could form a sound, the dainty, graceful form of Unohana Retsu appeared in the doorway. The chastising would have to wait for a more appropriate time. Nobody sane tried to speak over the Fourth's captain, and despite all of Toushirou's claims to the contrary, Matsumoto was not crazy. She would wait her turn.

Toushirou inclined his head toward the new arrival. "Unohana-taichou."

Matsumoto hurried to her feet and gave a shallow bow. She could behave properly when she wished, of course; it just wasn't any fun to do so. And unless she had a very good reason not to, she wanted to have fun as often as possible. What was wrong with that? The way Toushirou acted, one might have thought it was a crime. All of her efforts to loosen him up thus far had failed miserably.

"Hitsugaya-taichou. Matsumoto-fukutaichou," Unohana greeted, her own bow unhurried and elegant. "If you would come with me? I think that this matter is best discussed in private."

"Of course."

Matsumoto fell into step behind Toushirou as he followed, keeping her features stern and her eyes ahead. She would rather not think of how any of their division members had wound up in intensive care, even though she could not avoid it now that she was here. But that hardly meant that she had to see it. If she were asked if she wanted to, though, she was not certain that she would refuse. So many contradicting thoughts ran through her head that she decided that she wasn't up to dealing with them right now. Just go with instinct if the question came, and worry about any possible consequences later.

As expected, Unohana-taichou's office was spotless and organized – Matsumoto simply did not understand how anyone had the patience for that kind of dreadfully boring thing – the scent of fresh-cut and masterfully arranged flowers adding a subtle liveliness to the room. When motioned to take a seat, Matsumoto did so, noting with some satisfaction that Toushirou followed suit. Well at least he listened to someone telling him to sit down, even if it wasn't her.

Unohana took a seat behind her desk, and folded her hands calmly in front of her. "I assume you wish to know the condition of your subordinates?"

"We'd be grateful for anything that you can tell us," Matsumoto broke in. Technically, she should have let Toushirou speak, but the lead-in question had clearly annoyed him on some level, and she didn't want him saying anything that might get him on the bad side of Unohana. He was supposed to be smarter than that. That his scowl turned in her direction was not something that bothered her.

"Matsumoto . . ."

She pouted. He was going to scold her when she was just trying to help him out? Typical. "Why does it matter which one of us talks? We both want to know the same thing, don't we?"

Toushirou's features darkened slightly. "It's not your place to –"

"Pardon me," came Unohana's even tones, and Matsumoto noted with some apprehension that there was an innocent smile on the older woman's face. "But if the two of you have a dispute to settle, could you please do so on your own time? I would think that we are here to discuss matters more important than superior and subordinate etiquette. Or has that changed in the past few moments?"

Toushirou clenched his jaw at these words in a clear effort to bring his temper back into line. For her part, Matsumoto swallowed a bit nervously. Scary stuff. How did Unohana do that without doing . . . well, anything? At least when people were afraid of Gin's smiles, she knew why.

"My apologies, Unohana-taichou," Toushirou said at last. He gave Matsumoto a pointed look before continuing. "There will be no more interruptions. What can you tell us about the state of our division members?"

Unohana eyed the both of them measuringly, as though trying to discern whether there would be any more foolishness enacted in her presence. And yet that measuring look was not nearly so frightening as the smile, somehow. Weird.

At last, Unohana nodded, and glanced toward an open file on her desk that Matsumoto had not noticed earlier. Of course, she was an expert at not seeing files; if she didn't see them, then she didn't have to work on them.

"Regrettably, six were found dead at the scene, and another two perished on route to the Fourth." The scariness was completely gone from her eyes now, replaced with genuine sorrow. "I will have a copy of the list of the deceased sent to your offices so that you may decide on proper arrangements for them."

Eight dead. That would have been more than half the patrol. What could take out so many shinigami so quickly without being sensed? A Hollow with that level of reiatsu would have stood out plainly to just about any officer. What went wrong this time?

Toushirou beat her to the punch. "Eight out of a dozen were killed? What about the other four?"

Unohana closed the file folder before speaking. "I do not know if you are aware of the condition of others who have been brought in as of late, but yours are the same. They appear to be comatose, though not in any manner of it that I have yet seen. I am still in the process of diagnosing the condition."

Matsumoto had heard the stories, preferring to put them off as the drunken ramblings of those around her. She hadn't wanted something so disturbing to be true, but perhaps it was. And since that was the case, that meant that something needed to be done about it before this happened again.

"Can we see them?"

She was surprised to hear the question roll off her tongue when she had only moments ago not wanted to look. But it popped out without conscious thought, and she did tell herself that she would go with whatever instinct prompted her when the time came. The desire to check on her subordinates won out in the end. And if she were given permission, she would avail herself of it regardless of whether Toushirou thought it was a good idea. She honestly didn't know what he would say in this case.

To her dismay, Unohana shook her head. "I apologize, Matsumoto-fukutaichou, but I am afraid I must decline this request. They are in intensive care and it is imperative that the staff be able to attend to them without distraction. Should their condition improve, I will contact you."

Matsumoto deflated. She understood, of course, and she didn't want to interfere with any of their treatment. That didn't mean the refusal didn't sting. There were good people in there, and she couldn't even so much as try to cheer them up. Life really wasn't fair sometimes. For her or for others, it seemed.

"My third seat mentioned that you have the exact co-ordinates of the encounter," Toushirou said. Well, he certainly wasn't wasting any time, was he? "I need those in order to continue the investigation."

Without even looking at the folder, Unohana slid a sheet of paper out from it and handed that paper to Toushirou. "They are here. Please do not feel slighted by my next statement, Hitsugaya-taichou; it is not a commentary on your abilities. Be cautious in this investigation. I would hate to see either of you in a similar state."

Toushirou's jaw clenched again. No matter what Unohana had asked of him, he very obviously did feel slighted by her concern. In spite of the situation, Matsumoto nearly swatted him upside the head for that. It wasn't a commentary on his age for Unohana to treat him as though he were her child; she treated almost everyone that way. And considering how old Unohana was, all but three other captains were truly children compared to her.

"Thank you for your concern, Unohana-taichou." Toushirou's voice was tight with restrained indignation, but he managed to get the words out. "We will allow you to return to you work. Come on, Matsumoto."

He didn't even wait for her before dramatically sweeping out of the room. Matsumoto sprang out of her chair to follow him, only to find him standing not far down the hall, affording her the chance to catch up. But when she did, she was rewarded with a glare. What in the world was he so mad at her for this time?

"I said I didn't need a nanny. Do you even listen to me when I talk?"

Matsumoto rolled her eyes. Oh, great. He was on this again. There was a huge difference between being a friend and being a mother hen. Couldn't he see that? She knew him; he should have known better than this. Was all that genius really just confined to the shinigami arts? The boy still had no people skills at all.

"Listening isn't the same thing as following everything to the letter," she said. "And where did you get this idea that I'm mothering you, anyway?"

"Yeah, I wonder where in hell I could've gotten that idea." Toushirou folded his arms over his chest. "I know how to behave in front of other captains. Her in particular. I don't need you trying to bail me out of some perceived trouble."

Matsumoto scowled right back, placing her hands on her hips. "Trying to help you doesn't mean I think you need to be babysat. Haven't you learned that in all the time we've been friends? You can help somebody without thinking you're above them, you know."

"I'm your commanding officer now! You can't just –" Toushirou broke off abruptly, noticing that the rising volume of his voice was drawing wary stares from the hospital staff. Huffing, he shoved the paper at her and spoke to her in a level tone. "These are the co-ordinates. Settle anything you need to settle, and meet me at the West Gate in an hour. Since there's obviously no convincing you to stay here, I might as well resign myself to the fact that you're coming. But if you're late, I'm not waiting for you."

A little storm cloud would not have been out of place over Toushirou's head as he stalked off without her. That was quite a little hissy fit he'd just thrown, even though Matsumoto was sure he would describe it as righteous anger. Hissy fits were for children after all, and he staunchly refused to accept the fact that he was indeed a child, even with all of his accomplishments. And contrary to his belief, there was really no shame in that.

She bent to pick up the sheet of paper, not even acknowledging that the male orderly passing by at that second got a quick view of her cleavage. People looked all the time. As long as they didn't stare too much, or try to touch, then she had absolutely no problem with it.

Matsumoto studied the co-ordinates for a moment. Not an area that she knew, then. Of course, whenever she went into Rukongai, she tended to stay in the populated areas. Since one couldn't very well shop or go bar-hopping in the middle of a forest or whatever, and all.

She folded the paper and tucked it securely into her obi before leaving the hospital herself. Just a thing or two to take care of, and she would be at the West Gate in plenty of time to help Toushirou.

No way was she letting him go alone.