The Arrancar Wars

Volume One: Let There Be War

Chapter 2

"Momo! Momo-chan!" Matsumoto Rangiku trailed a hand down her hair as she spied the object of her hunt.

After everything that had happened before, during and after the Winter War six years before, it was no secret that whenever Hitsugaya-taichou lost his temper good and proper the cause of it tended to be Hinamori Momo. No that Hinamori knew it, of course; Matsumoto had enlisted far too many of her fellow fukutaichou's to protect the girl from that knowledge, since it could very well break her. Of all of Aizen's victims, Matsumoto sometimes thought that it was Hinamori who had the heaviest burden to bear.

Every shinigami had some burden to bear, simply because they'd all been duped into trusting those who would ultimately betray them. But there was a handful that hurt more than most: Hisagi, Kira, Hinamori, and herself.

Sometimes Matsumoto thought that it didn't hurt as much as it could. She, at least, never woke up to the knowledge that she'd followed in a traitorous captain's footsteps. The one time Hitsugaya had ever made his loyalty questionable, he'd done it in such a way that his loyalty had never actually wavered. Though Matsumoto could scarce believe that the prodigy had ever truly shared Hyourinmaru's affections with another shinigami, she couldn't deny the happenings before the Winter War. But still, six years had passed, and she'd never wavered in her loyalty.

But she could understand. Despite knowing instinctively that Hitsugaya-taichou was no traitor, Matsumoto had still tried to follow him when the rest of Seireitei was sure he was. So she did know, better than anyone else could, what had happened to her three friends. It was easier for her because of that, and because Gin hadn't been… Well, he hadn't been the man she'd wanted him to be for a long time. She'd known, there was no way Matsumoto could not know. Ignoring it and hoping for the best were weak courses of action. Her only excuse was that she loved him.

Still did, truth be told. It was a fact that pushed forcibly aside as she came alongside Hinamori. The younger woman was sitting on the wooden porch behind her division, her legs curled up to her as she stared out at the small pond the 5th had been built in front of.

"Hinamori?" Matsumoto asked, and the other fukutaichou looked up at her. Matsumoto never missed how tired and unhappy Hinamori looked. Just like her taichou.

"Rangiku-san," the brown haired girl gave her a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Taichou was upset," Matsumoto answered as she lowered herself gracefully to sit next to Hinamori. "Why so formal?"

Hinamori blushed. "Let us call it a longstanding habit."

Matsumoto knew that Hinamori was referring to her long recovery, and the years she'd distanced herself from everyone. She had refused Hitsugaya in particular for the better part of those two years, until her taichou had nearly demolished the 4th and 5th both looking for his friend. She reached a hand out to brush the long locks from Hinamori's face so that they were tucked behind her ear before dropping her hand to her shoulder.

"I don't desire such formality at all, Momo-chan. You'll address me as Rangiku-chan, or Ran-chan, or I'll make Renji and Hisagi throw you in the lake in Karakura town," Matsumoto sniffed with faked disdain.

Hinamori smiled and shook her head. "You are a cruel, cruel woman, Rangiku-chan. That's even more cruel than tricking Kira into doing all of your paperwork by loosening your kimono." She paused for a moment before looking down and letting her hair fall forward once more to cover her face.

Matsumoto hated the habit the girl had developed in her self-imposed isolation, but there was nothing she could do when Hinamori was still so intent on hiding herself. Matsumoto could hardly blame Hinamori for it though, the girl was still so fragile.

"He's angry with me?" Hinamori finally asked, and Matsumoto bit her lip as she considered the unexpected words.

She'd thought that taichou was angry with Hinamori again—not that it was ever Hinamori's fault—but there was only so much he could be expected to take. He'd certainly shown Soul Society what lay beneath his icy exterior a time or two since Aizen, and Matsumoto was forever grateful that the traitor was dead and gone. She could only imagine in her darkest nightmares what Aizen could bring about if he'd not been killed in the Winter War. Besides, Aizen had been Gin's damnation and his redemption, all in one evil package. For that she would be more than grateful.

But Hinamori had asked, she was uncertain. Which meant that the scroll Hitsugaya-taichou had been reading, had flung away from himself so angrily before turning the office into an ice cube, wasn't from his childhood friend. And no matter that Matsumoto had been napping for hours before his outburst, Hinamori had been nowhere near the 10th, nor had her taichou left it since he'd seated himself before stacks of papers demanding his signature that morning shortly after dawn broke.

She hmm'd and nearly laughed as Hinamori turned stricken chocolate brown eyes to her. "Is he really angry? Don't lie to me, Ran-chan, please!" Hinamori pleaded.

"No, silly Momo. Taichou isn't angry with you. I thought he was," she confessed, "but I think that it must be something else. Besides, it's not really you he gets angry with."

The look Hinamori gave Matsumoto was withering and insulting rolled into one. "I'm sure Hitsugaya-kun wouldn't see it that way."

Matsumoto tilted her head to the side as she regarded Hinamori's face. It was pretty, she could easily see why her taichou loved the girl. Even now, as broken as Aizen had made her and as whole as Unahona could remake her, she still had such innocence about her. There was none of the ruthlessness that seemed to grow inside shinigami as they aged. In fact, if it weren't for the subtle changes that marked the change from youth to woman, Matsumoto might not be able to tell that Hinamori had changed at all since her academy days.

She could easily recall seeing Hinamori in the academy as she avoided work in the 10th. Many of her fellow shinigami thought she'd learned her habits from sheer laziness, but Matsumoto knew better. She'd served under Kurosaki Isshin for some years, moving from 6th seat to his right hand woman. And that man knew how to shirk. Not drink, since Isshin never could hold his sake. She'd always counted on Shunsui as a drinking buddy—but Isshin had instilled a finely honed sense of avoiding work of all kinds in Matsumoto Rangiku.

Hinamori had followed her dream and had tested well enough to be placed in Kira and Renji's general classes. Hisagi himself had taught her somewhat. She'd looked so young then, with her short hair in pigtails and her academy uniform. But still so capable.

Funny that Matsumoto couldn't find that girl in the one she was looking at now—the changes were so slight that it seemed as though the memory was wrong and out of date.

"He cares about you."

She was a blunt woman, with subtlety having been left behind somewhere in the Rukongai when she passed a C cup, but Matsumoto was careful with her words. Hitsugaya Toushirou was not a man to be trifled with, and she had no doubt that, taichou or no, he would make her regret it if she suddenly burst out that he loved Momo blindly and adoringly. But the girl deserved to know, to at least have a chance to understand, why her best friend was so angry with her constantly. With her yes, at her no, and the difference was as vast as worlds.

Hinamori's eyes sought the water again as she spoke softly. "I know he cares. He's my best friend."

If sighing wouldn't have been so suspicious, Matsumoto would have gusted the girl away.

It was so much easier to understand what Gin had been trying to tell her. After all, he was one of the most selfish people she knew, and he'd died for something she believed in. Matsumoto smiled as she followed Hinamori's gaze to the peaceful water. That statement had been that he still loved her, and she appreciated it. It hurt that he was gone, it hurt that he hadn't survived betraying Aizen, but he'd given her the memory of a man who had died doing what was right, which was far more often harder than anything that wasn't. Ichimaru Gin never took anything but the path of least resistance, but he had, because he loved her.

It meant almost as much as him staying with her when she was spindly, gangly, boyish little nobody, and loving her even then.

But Hitsugaya was a far more complex creature than Matsumoto had ever given him credit for. Complex, but still male. It wasn't difficult to understand, for her at least, that he was only angry with Hinamori because she was the target of convenience. He wanted things the way they were, and he was trapped with what he had.

It could be worse, she knew. And she knew her taichou knew that, too.

They could have lost. The could be dead. She could be dead. Though, had Hinamori died, Matsumoto was sure that the 10th Division would once again be searching for a captain, standing in line with the rank and file of three other leaderless divisions. Instead they were all hurt, some of them beyond recognition. But they were alive. Damaged, but alive.

Finally Matsumoto shook her head as she lounged back. "There's nothing I can say to you, Momo, that will be what you need to hear."

Hinamori gave Matsumoto a wan smile. "I'd like to hear him call me Momo again. Even if he's insulting me." Her nose wrinkled and despite the gravity between the two, Hinamori gave a small laugh.

Matsumoto smiled. "Taichou likes it when you call him Shirou-chan. It makes him smile after her frowns. Just don't tell him I told you so, or he'll freeze me to my desk and never let me leave until all my work is done!"

xXx

"If we meet them head on, we could have a real chance. Not even Aizen would expect us to do something so forward," Zaraki-taichou was saying. Surprisingly he had support, though Hitsugaya wasn't sure how impressive it was to have the half assed assent Ichigo had given. Komamura had been a surprise, though. Hitsugaya had started his career in the Gotei 13 underneath the vulpine taichou and had never expected the suddenly bloodthirsty streak the man was displaying.

Though Hitsugaya supposed it was an acceptable attitude considering that Aizen had corrupted the first and best friend his once-taichou had ever had. No matter what had happened, there were some wounds that would take longer than a paltry six years to heal, even if most of the parties involved were dead.

As he'd expected once the gist of the meeting had been met, there were plans being thrown across the table from all sides. Of all present, only Yamamoto, Unahona and Hitsugaya himself had held their council. Though Ichigo had thrown his lot in with Zaraki, but it hadn't surprised Hitsugaya that he'd done it. The surprise had been that Ichigo had been noticeably silent barring a murmured agreement when the violent taichou of the 11th had cornered him verbally. The young acting captain's mind was far from the meeting he was sitting in on, but Hitsugaya thought that given the volatile subject he might be one of very few that had noticed.

Yoruichi-taichou had settled herself next to the orange haired shinigami, nearly a perfect opposite of Hitsugaya's own seat, and she was flaring her temper now as he watched and waited. It was second nature, he supposed, to notice things. Just one of the many talents and habits that had made the commander general send him in to sortie alongside Soifon when she had led the 2nd. Barring the fact that an angry Shihoin Yoruichi was nearly as interesting a sight as Matsumoto sober, Hitsugaya couldn't help but focus his attention on the way she had barely paid Urahara Kisuke any attention since he'd joined their ranks as the reinstated taichou of the 12th.

"We all know how stupid a full frontal assault would be," she got out loudly over Zaraki's proclamation that such an attack would be best. She glared the much taller down into his seat next to her before turning to the far corner to find Komamura's inhuman gaze. "Even you, Komamura, and I'm not even going to mention you, Ichigo."

"But what do you have in mind, exactly, Yoruichi-san?" Ukitake questioned. Hitsugaya watched the older taichou shift from the corner of his eye, something in the back of his mind pointing out that no matter what course of action was decided the odds of the ill taichou participating were very slim.

Yoruichi sat down, completely aware that the floor was hers and content to ignore Zaraki's contemptuous snorts from beside her. "We have the element of surprise," she began. "I don't doubt that Aizen is prepared for the event of being discovered, but given the intelligence we have thanks to Hitsugaya-taichou and my Special Forces, I think that assuming Aizen has no idea that we know is safe."

"Assumptions have led us to war before, Yoruichi-san," Ukitake offered, his words heavy between them. "We assumed once that Aizen was dead, and he nearly killed several of us before removing himself and his accomplices to Hueco Mundo."

Next to him Kyoraku shifted. "We also assumed him dead a second time, Jyuu-chan, and now it's come to roost on our shoulders." Ukitake inclined his head in agreement.

"Be that as it may, Ukitake, Kyoraku," Yoruichi responded. "There has been no indication that Aizen or any of his arrancar have any idea we know of their existence. We have the tactical advantage, and it would be foolish not to use it against him."

It was rare that Kyoraku Shunsui was cold sober and serious, but Hitsugaya could appreciate the way the man was considering Yoruichi's words. "He still has the Hogyoku; this places us at a distinct disadvantage. Attacking, even discreetly, will be for naught without negating Aizen's ability to create new arrancar at will."

Nearly a dozen sets of eyes turned to eyeball the newly reappointed Urahara-taichou, and Hitsugaya continued to focus his attention on the man, for now ignoring the tension that seemed to radiate across the distance and single shinigami separating him from Shihoin-taichou. Urahara appeared calm, but the way his mouth tightened slightly, the tension around his eyes and the way his eyes seemed to look through the stares and not acknowledge them told Hitsugaya a different story than what the captain presented.

"Can it be destroyed, Urahara?" Yamamoto asked, the first time he'd spoken since the start of the meeting.

Urahara sat back without looking at the commander general. He spread his hands on the table, long fingers expansive as he said, "In theory, yes."

The outcry from several throats seemed to take the taichou of the 12th aback as he darted gray-green eyes up to narrow them at his detractors. "In theory, it can be destroyed," he repeated, this time raising his voice above the furor. "Exactly as I said about the Hogyoku actually working: in theory."

"Given that your theories tend to be accurate, Kisuke," Unahona addressed him with a serene countenance, "Can you destroy it?"

Urahara nodded once, sharply, and guilt played across his features.

"Well, then that's settled," Unahona smiled.

"Except for the fact that we don't have the Hogyoku. It's still firmly in Aizen's possession."

It was the only thing Hitsugaya had said since entering the room, seemingly content to hold his peace as the soutaichou and Unahona had. A simple, needless to say point, but at the rate they were going Hitsugaya was forced to wonder how many of them had let that once small fact slip their minds in the faint hope of being able to destroy the Hogyoku. A foolish dream, at any rate, since destroying the thing was likely to destroy the destroyer and a good piece of wherever the act was carried out. Hitsugaya had taken the time years ago to read all of the research he could find concerning the device that Urahara had built, up to and including a single unauthorized trip to the real world to ask Urahara himself. To think that the Hogyoku was easily destroyed was foolish, but hope was an easy emotion to grasp at when one was desperate.

"If Aizen isn't expecting it, we could attempt to infiltrate Las Noches," Yoruichi opined. "It would destroy any chances at future sneak attacks, but the outcome would be without measure if we were successful."

"Do you really believe we would be successful, Yoruichi?" Urahara asked, and the female captain tossed an angry golden glare his way.

"I think that it's far better to attempt something than to sit here and wait for him to come to us, Urahara-taichou."

If there was a single person in the room who missed the banked fury in the woman's address, Hitsugaya would eat his zanpakuto without sauce. But she did have a point, despite the fact that it would no doubt be a suicide mission. But still, the idea of infiltrating Las Noches and Aizen's ranks was asking a firm foothold in Hitsugaya's mind, and he let the thought drift in the back of his mind as he sat back in his chair to observe once more.

Urahara didn't flinch, merely looked at the angry captain for a long moment before responding to her in a voice that was so calm and even that Hitsugaya knew that it was hiding the truth. "To risk sacrificing so many on a task that will most likely fail is far more wasteful than we can afford to be, Shihoin-taichou." And while Urahara hadn't flinched in the least, Yoruichi did for a heartbeat at his address to her. "We have limited shinigami and cannot 'create' new ones as if by magic."

"There are fewer shinigami entering the ranks of the Gotei 13 now than ever before," Kuchiki-taichou put in. "It seems that there's a high number of accidents in our prospective candidates than ever before; more than half are being reincarnated due to misadventure."

Despite keeping his ears to the ground in all things concerning his division and the Gotei 13 in general, Hitsugaya started at this. This, he hadn't known, and the news was a devastating blow to half of the tactical scenarios he'd run in his head. "Aizen," he breathed, cursing the traitor more now than ever before. He felt more than saw Komamura's surprise at the harsh way he'd spoken the exiled captain's name, his eyes were too focused on Kuchiki-taichou's calm nod to acknowledge his former captain in any way.

"Yes," Kuchiki said. "So we have begun to realize."

"Despite that, there's some merit in Yoruichi-san's suggestion." Kyoraku removed his ever present straw hat, laying it on the table before him and running his hands down the sloping sides of it habitually. "If we could manage to retrieve the Hogyoku, we could throw Aizen's plans into such disarray that we might be able to defeat him once and for all."

The dissent was expected, but the dissenter came as a surprise when Ukitake shook his head and crossed his arms in front of him, his eyes looking away from his long time friend.

"I believe I must speak against our esteemed Yoruichi-san's suggestion," Ukitake said softly. "Were we to commit ourselves too completely to a single attempt that holds no kind of guarantee of succeeding, I believe that we would find ourselves shortly at Aizen's nonexistent mercy." The white-haired taichou paused for a moment, his breath coming out in a deceptively easy sigh. "To add insult to injury, we have searched for the Hogyoku for six years and have come no closer to finding it now that we were at the beginning of the war."

"Then what do you suggest?" Yoruichi asked acerbically. "That we simply sit here and wait for him to come to us?"

Kuchiki-taichou interrupted with a glance at the angry woman. "Beyond strategy, we must also consider that there is still a traitor in our midst."

The silence that fell was thick with fury, but no one said anything until Yamamoto rapped his hand down against the wooden table. "That is a harsh accusation, Byakuya," he said stonily.

Kuchiki inclined his head, hair falling over his face for a moment until he righted himself. "I am aware of that, soutaichou. But it is still true: Aizen is picking off our shinigami with far too much accuracy. Logically, someone is feeding him information. A traitor."

Again the taichou's voices clashed across the table, arguing and declaiming, though none of the accusing each other. Hitsugaya was grateful for that, since it would have been far too painful to hear more recriminations against any of them, beyond the fact that the idea any of the remaining taichou's could be traitors made him near physically sick. But it was true, he'd already begun to suspect it before Kuchiki said it aloud. Once it was said there was no way Hitsugaya could deny the fact that a traitor was not only possible or probable, but was a fact of the situation.

The arguing reached a dull roar before Urahara stood, his zanpakuto still sealed into her cane form but crashing down on the table in a shuddering blow that silenced the furor.

"There are ways to ensure that those present are loyal," he said into the sudden silence. "Sodium thiopental."

Hitsugaya had never heard of it, but neither had he spent a century living in the human world. His eyes were already turning to Ichigo even as the young shinigami straightened, his eyes glued to the former shopkeeper.

"Sodium pentothal?" he questioned, and shook his head. "I'll give you that it's a truth serum, but it's unreliable at best. Even in the human world they admit that."

Urahara smiled, a cold baring of teeth. "It may be unreliable for humans, but I am no human to use such a delicate chemical like a sledgehammer. I can wield it like a finely made scalpel to reveal truth from lies, and loyalty from any shinigami I ply it to."

Ichigo lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "So you say, Hat 'n Clogs." He smirked as Urahara frowned at him before seating himself again as did the other captains of the Gotei 13.

"And yet we still have no plan of attack," Yoruichi finally said, breaking the silence.

Hitsugaya sat there for a moment, feeling pale and ill as his mind clicked over again, whatever brilliance he vaunted as the youngest taichou failing him as he dismissed yet another possibility. The fact that there was still silence told him that none of his fellow captains had any more suggestions to offer, and Hitsugaya still held his silence, fear wrapping itself icily in his heart as he realized that the only true option was one he didn't want to consider. But still, it wasn't a bad idea. Just… painfully wrong to truly consider. He imagined Yoruichi would approve of it, though, since she was content with the idea of infiltration.

He'd known many pieces, but the more he'd learned the more Hitsugaya realized that Aizen was well and truly entrenched in Seireitei still. Subterfuge, betrayal, shadows within shadows. The best way to fight it was to become it.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, even as his body trembled.

"I've heard it said behind my back. Tensai," he said softly. His hands were fisted in the folds of his haori as his eyes remained glued to the table, as if the wood grain were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

"I've never acknowledged it, but we all know that there's a reason why I graduated from the academy in less than a year, and gained my captaincy in another five."

He paused, finally lifting his head to survey the table and ensure that he had their attention. He met each of their eyes in turn, knowing that his own gaze was troubled and worried, and not bothering to hide it. They had to know, needed to know, how dangerous this idea was, this attempt at strategy, even before Hitsugaya came out and told them what he'd thought up.

He dropped his eyes again, voice firmer now as he told them, "I believe that there is a way out of this."

This time when he looked up his eyes were a cold, clear sea-green. Dead and empty unless one knew what to look for, and Hitsugaya was sure that none seated around him knew how troubled his next words made him.

"But it will involve sacrifices."

xXx

Adding one more freebie chapter since the single one seemed cruel and unusual. This AN will be deleted in the future.