Squee! Lots of cute, fluffy fluff and much humor at Hitsugaya's expense. Plus a few naughty nibbles thrown in by Matsumoto for your inner-pervert to enjoy.

SUMMARY: Hitsugaya awakens in Matusmoto's bed with no memory, and she has a lot of explaining to do. Sometimes, it's better not to know the truth. Sometimes, some things are best left forgotten.

PAIRINGS: Hitsugaya/Matsumoto

WARNINGS: Very naughty innuendoes and lewd remarks by Matsumoto and Ichimaru, yaoi implications. Possibly some OOC-ness, but it's not intentional.

DISCLAIMER: Stands for entire fic. I don't own.

Oh, and flames shall be laughed at- especially those of you whining, "but Hitsu should be with Momo!" If you want that pairing, there's a gazillion fics out there catering to it. So get lost and go read them. Come crying to me about it, and be prepared to get spit in your face.

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MEMORY

By Neko Oni

Dark eyelashes fluttered against pale skin, opening to reveal glazed turquoise orbs. Toushiro blinked; his vision was blurry. He rubbed his eyes with small fists in a very child-like gesture. It was taking too long for his vision to clear. Frowning, the tiny taichou went to sit up.

Immediately, pain flared along his skull, throbbing as if being repeatedly struck with the blunt end of a zanpaktoh. "Itai." He winced, clutching his head as he fell back down, curling in on himself.

His breath hitched as his slender body rode the waves of pain until they finally ebbed. Keeping his eyes closed, Hitsugaya slowly relaxed his dainty fingers. He felt a thick layer of bandages wound round his temples like an oversized headband.

What in all of Soul Society happened? He couldn't remember any battle, sparring session, accident- nothing. He scrunched his pert nose up cutely as he struggled to recall ANYthing, but his mind remained inconveniently blank.

Well, he'd suffered a head injury, that much was apparent. He thought, lightly fingering the bandage. Most likely from said head trauma came the blurred vision and memory loss.

He knew who he was, where he lived, what he did, whom he loved- all the day to day information was there. But of the recent activities leading up to his injury and passing out, his mind was an ominous blank slate. Couldn't his mind remember? Or didn't it want do?

Pouting, he rubbed his eyes before opening them one more time. Slowly, ever so slowly, his vision cleared. He blinked, staring at his hands. And the light blue nail polish adorning them.

Hitsugaya drew in a sharp, quick breath. What the hell?! He curled his fingers- yes, these most certainly belonged to him. But they were blue. Eyes wide, pushing down the panic, he gazed about him, turning his head carefully; he knew better than to try sitting up again so soon.

The pillow was plush, comfy, and in a pink satin pillowcase while the blankets covering him were purple. He was definitely NOT in Unohana-taichou's infirmary! This looked like… Pressing his nose into the pillow, he inhaled the faint smell of sweet pea blossoms and sake. Yes, it was. He was in Matsumoto's bedroom. In her bed. Wearing blue nail polish.

Huge teal eyes went wide. Hopefully, that wasn't all he was wearing. Blushing and closing his eyes tightly, his slender hands trailed swiftly under the lavender blankets, fingers grasping desperately for cloth. He gripped the yukata's collar tightly, exhaling loudly in relief as tension rushed from his slim frame.

But this collar was silkier than the thin cotton ones issued to infirmary patients, and this yukata didn't have sleeves. Brows furrowing in confusion, he pulled the covers back and looked down.

A sleeveless, powder blue, summer yukata with silky, white trim and a wide white sash around his thin waist, keeping the cloth in place. It came down to around his ankles; too long. Summer yukatas should only come about midcalf. So the owner couldn't be much taller than him; that ruled out Matsumoto- he'd drown in one of hers. But he still detected her fine hand in this. In fact, it had his fukutaichou written all over it. Gripping the white collar, Hitsugaya scowled and his blush deepened.

Somebody was in deep shit when he got a hold of her. Soon as she explained this, he'd freeze her. No, he'd bury her in paperwork for the rest of her afterlife, dump out all of her sake, then freeze her! Smiling to himself, Hitsugaya nodded, crossing his arms. Matsumoto was in for it. He didn't know what happened- how he got hurt, why he was dressed like this- but instinct told him the busty blonde was the source. As she usually was.

He shivered- in his anger, he'd made the temperature drop too much- and pulled the blankets back up. Rubbing his bare arms, his teal eyes traveled around the room and landed on a small stack of paperwork on the nightstand by the bed. On top of that sat a folded paper crane. So that's where Matsumoto's share of the paperwork disappeared to. But since when did she have the patience for origami? Was this her latest get-out-of-paperwork scheme? Using it for origami?

Curiosity getting the better of him, Hitsugaya scootched over until his short arm could reach the paper bird. His fingertips brushed the folded wingtip. He frowned; he was at the edge of the mattress, and couldn't reach laying down. Tentatively, he pushed himself up on his arms very slowly, so as not to jar his head. He stretched an arm out, twisting to reach the origami crane. Taking it, he pulled back, ankles bumping as he shifted his slight weight.

Pain flared in his left ankle. It hurt as bad as his head. Gasping, he fell back onto the mattress, bird plopping besides him. Once the pain subsided, he peered under the blankets; his left ankle was heavily bandaged. Great, now what had he done to that?

Hitsugaya ran his hands over his face, sighing deeply. What had happened to him? Why couldn't he remember? Duh- head trauma. Obviously, the blow to his head caused him to loose those memories. He'd be happy when Matsumoto crawled back from wherever she was, and gave him some much needed answers. For now, all he could do was wait.

He sighed. He didn't want to go back to sleep; he wasn't tired, and he didn't want to miss her return. But neither did he want to lay here, bored. But there wasn't much else his battered body could do. He scowled and turned his head to the side. The origami bird.

Peering at it, he noticed there was some writing peeking out of the cracks. A note? What bird-brained idiot wrote correspondence then folded it up into origami? Eyebrow raised, he put the bird onto his chest and slowly, carefully, unfolded it. He was right; it was a short note that made him want to engulf the world- spirit and living- in another ice age.

Dear Matsumoto-san,

Thank you very much for the sake bottle. It was great. Ika-chan (Ikkaku) and I enjoyed it very much. Yachiru and I had fun with your little taichou. You were right- he's absolutely adorable, even when he scowls. Let me know if you ever need anyone to baby sit him again.

Hearts,

Yumichika.

At the words "little", "adorable", and "baby sit", the temperature dropped dangerously. As he exhaled, his breath condensed into little clouds. "MATSUMOTO!!!!" He screamed, small hands fisting in the purple blankets.

The bedroom door slid open. "Oi, Shiro-chan, Unohana-taichou says you're supposed to take it easy. Not shout down all of Seireitei." Matsumoto shut the door with one tabi covered foot, hands full with a tray balancing two bowls.

"Where in the nine gates of the underworld were you?" He snarled, eyes going from greenish blue to a light, glowing icy hue.

"Getting lunch. Obviously." She set the tray down on a low table then sat down on the edge of the bed. "Geez, you're extra cranky, Shiro-chan-taichou." She laid a graceful hand on his forehead, ignoring his homicidal glower. "Hm, no fever. Are you constipated?" She placed a hand on his stomach, pressing gently.

He twitched. "MATSUMOTO!!!!"

She winced, covering her ears. "Ok, ok. Sorry, sorry. What's wrong?"

He pinned her with his chilling gaze. "You can start with this." He threw the note at her. "This." He gestured towards the blue yukata. "And these." He pointed to his bandaged head and ankle. "And why am I in your bed?" His anger was dulled by a light blush.

"Um…well, it's kind of a long story…" She scratched the back of her head and shifted her weight.

Hitsugaya stubbornly crossed his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."

"B-but- our lunch! I'm hungry!" Matsumoto protested. He just shrugged. She just sighed, shivered, voluptuous, exposed breasts jiggling, and relented. She should put a

coat on to prepare for the on-coming blizzard before telling him…

"Well, it all started with some sake…"

TBC…

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Wanna know what happened to Shiro-chan? You're just gonna have to wait until next update. Which reviews help encourage, you know