Author's Note: A moment's explosion. Quite pointless…

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the poems that I used in this fic.

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A Hitsugaya Fic

Sincerely Yours

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your lives are the bird's flight
which begins and ends in stillness--
which begins and ends, in form echoing
this arc from the white birch
to the apple tree.

"Retreating Wind" – Louise Glück

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Good day,

It has been months. I hope everything is well in Junrinan. Should you have any problem, please report to any Gotei Squad nearby. We will make sure everything is well.

X

Good day,

It has been a while. Seireitei is at peace and the squad is in its optimum state. I hope that will reassure you that Rokungai will remain safe under our care.

X

Good day,

How are you? May you be in great health as always. The job is progressing satisfactorily so there is no need to worry.

X

Good day,

It has been a long time. I am all and well. I hope you are not lonely.

X

The sun was shining over the white building of Seireitei, falling on green leaves and dark stones alike. The breeze was calm, relaxing—rather, it was intoxicating. Peace was such a toxin that it could to every soul so easily, then slipped in the most inappropriate times. This time, however… was not one of those many times it happened.

The tea was hot and steaming… and the sun was shining as always.

"Taichou."

Being her, the Fuku-Taichou went straight to the opened door and bowed. Instead of the usual cold "Matsumoto" saying, there was only silence.

She looked up, questioningly, to see his empty desk and chair and an opened window. His tea was still hot and steaming… and the breeze that blew whispered between the papers scattered over his desk.

It was one of those days.

She couldn't help but smile.

X

His sandals made distinct sound to the ground of Rokungai. The likes of him were not allowed to be there yet he came. Almost periodically.

His coming was like a ticking of a clock—steady but ignorable between all the other noises. He was, indeed, a genius. So small but so genius… that he could mask his coming without anyone else noticing.

The house came into view; a small house surrounded by bamboos. The ground was lusty green, well kept… and the grave by the back of the house was as clean as usual. He need not ask the owner of the house who cleaned it, he knew the answer better than her, he was sure of it.

Silent pride. Why, he was so good with handling it.

He stopped by the entrance, slipping a hand to his white haori with the smooth movement of someone accustomed to something. He sighed inwardly. He was getting used to this. It wasn't good, but it was not as if it was criminal either.

It only took a moment, but it seemed like forever no matter how many times he did it. After the brief habitual visit was over, as silently as how he came, with only a jump, he was off.

X

The old woman walked slowly to the entrance. Every single walk was beginning to feel excruciating. Her time was drawing near to an end. She knew, yet she was still at peace.

Her weary eyes saw the folded letter by the entrance, softening when she slowly turned to pick it up. It was always anonymous, always so mysterious… so curt, but so warm.

She couldn't read very well, not that she could reply anyway with the lack of sender address, but she didn't care either.

She was proud. Feeling the warmth enveloping the letter was enough for her to smile and live.

X

"Okaerinasai, Taichou!"

Matsumoto bounced around as her small Taichou appeared by the gate, eyes cold as always. She clasped her hand together and grinned widely.

"Done with the routine already? My~ Taichou! I can't believe that you're actually…"

"How's the report file I asked this morning?"

"Oh, Taichou, come on~ don't be so strict about…"

"You've done it, haven't you, Matsumoto?"

The blonde haired woman, stopped. She gave an innocent look and rubbed her cheek with her index finger.

"Well… you see, Taichou…"

"Do it."

He was mad. She slacked off. And the job was doing 'satisfactorily' as usual.

The sun was shining over the leaves, the roofs, and the stony path he walked upon to his headquarters.

It was one of those days…

One of those days when serenity was intoxicating and the tea was still steaming, waiting patiently beside the papers on his desk.

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The End

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Author's Note: I've told you it was pointless.