SPOILERS: through the Soul Society arc
NOTES: Since I only watch the anime, I don't know if this has been covered in the manga, but my muses latched on to the question, "How did Hitsugaya end up with Matsumoto as his lieutenant?" This is the result of trying to answer that question believably. Unbetaed.
DISCLAIMERS: Bleach and all things associated with it belong to other people.
LIEUTENANT
Part 3
It had been surprisingly easy to arrange for permission to spar with another captain's subordinate. The Central Office of Fourty-Six had been so cooperative with both that and preparing protective barriers around 10th Division's practice field, it was as though such requests were an everyday occurrence. He knew better and couldn't help wondering if Ashikaga's influence was behind the unexpected speediness of the usually unhurried bureaucracy. Whatever the reason, it had allowed him to ask Matsumoto to spar with him that day, and that was all that really concerned him. The sooner he could have the matter of her worth as a possible lieutenant settled, the better.
Knowing he would be sparring, he had eaten lightly. Between that and the administration minions preparing the practice field, it was to be expected his subordinates would have questions. As the third ranked Shinigami of 10th Division, it was Orihara who broached the subject. Although Orihara was easily twice his age , the seasoned Shinigami had never shown any qualms about following a younger man nor being overlooked for the position of lieutenant. Plus, he was a skilled go player. It was during their occasional games together that the young captain was kept informed about the salient details of his division's performance.
Orihara accompanied Sakaguchi, one of 10th Division's rank-and-file members who'd been assigned to pick up his captain's lunch tray that day, and remained behind after the dishes were removed.
"Orihara?" prompted the young captain from behind his desk, brush already in hand to deal with some paperwork before his match began.
"Captain, you seem to be planning on sparring today." The older man had learned his captain preferred getting right to the point. With this in mind, he appreciated it was best to give the option of a yes or no answer, in case a long explanation was undesirable.
"Yes." He'd explain his actions after he'd learned Matsumoto's worth.
Expecting Orihara to accept the response and leave, he was surprised when his third remained. "Some of the men would like to watch, sir."
Looking up from his paperwork, he blinked at Orihara for a moment as he processed the prospect. Since his captaincy, 10th Division's assignments had rarely required him to use his zanpakutô. For convenience and the safety of others, he preferred to practice in deserted areas, so few had seen Hyôrinmaru. It was an aspect he hadn't taken into consideration--that his people might be curious to see him in action. And after all, protective barriers were seldom required unless a bout was fairly serious. Recalling how excited other cadets in the Academy would get whenever a lieutenant or captain would spar in public, he decided it would be good for morale to allow them to watch.
"That would be fine." He nodded and returned his attention to his paperwork. "We'll be receiving guests soon--a squad from 4th Division and a ranked member from 3rd. Please see they're escorted to the practice field."
"Yes, sir!"
There was a certain enthusiasm to his third's voice that amused him and left him wondering if Orihara had ever seen Hyôrinmaru.
He had only managed to fill out two reports and certify one acquisition request when Takezoe, 10th Division's seventh ranked member, arrived at the office door to announce the arrival of guests and follow him to the western edge of their division's compound. It astonished him to find every member of 10th Division crammed into the verandas that bordered two sides of the practice field. Clearly he had underestimated his people's curiosity in this matter.
Standing just to the right of the hall entrance leading to the field stood Matsumoto beside Orihara. Both bowed at his arrival. With a pristine kimono, sharp gaze, and attentive demeanor, no one would have ever guessed the woman had been drunk a few hours ago. He couldn't even detect a whiff of alcohol, which had seemed to seep from her pores earlier. Of course, he was giving her the chance to change her situation, so it was logical she'd make an effort for the opportunity.
Nodding to them, he lifted his chin to indicate she should follow him into the field. Wordlessly, she fell into step beside him, matching her stride to his. Once they were positioned an appropriate distance apart, he pitched his voice so everyone could hear. During his captaincy testing, he had been complimented on his command voice by Captain Unohana. Of course, given the healer's own soft-spoken nature, he hadn't been quite sure what to make of it, but his subordinates had always responded well to his voice.
"There will be three rounds. The first will consist of bladework only. The second will include magic. The third will include released zanpakutô."
An appreciative murmur arose from the crowd. Ignoring it, he pulled a small hourglass from his sleeve and tossed it to Orihara, who caught it without batting an eye or needing to question his intent. "Each round will be ten minutes long with a five minute break in between." At last, he met Matsumoto's eyes. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir!" Her voice held a clarity it hadn't before.
She bowed to him, and he returned it. With a nod to the officials, the barriers went up. Taking a guard position, he barked, "Begin!"
From the very first, she surprised him. Instead of reaching for the sword slung behind her, she dropped into a swift spin, aiming to knock him off his feet. As he dodged, she used shunpo to get behind him, but her speed was no match for his. Pivoting to parry her blow, he forced her aside with a powerful upward swing of his blade that took full advantage of his smaller stature and greater reiatsu. It was a move that would have sent lesser Shinigami into an uncontrolled spin, but she landed deftly against the barrier and rebounded, bringing her sword to bear for a direct attack. Slapping her blade aside, he crouched beneath her longer reach and tapped her hand with the butt of his hilt before taking a position to her right, which would put her next swing at a disadvantage. She let out a hiss and, astonishingly, switched her sword to her left hand as she shook the sting from her right.
"Not a captain for nothing, I see." There was a deceptive laziness to the comment, just as there had been in her initial moves.
So she used words as a distraction. Words didn't concern him much--he'd heard every possible comment about his age a dozen times over. But if she used talk as a part of her tactics, it would be useful to know if it could, in turn, distract her.
"I thought there was more to being a lieutenant." He said it blandly, as though the whole situation bored him.
Instead of the vexation one might expect from such a comment, her gaze grew hooded as a pleased smile spread across her lips. "Of course there is." Switching her sword back to her right, she spun again, this time much faster and with her blade held in reverse, along the length of her forearm. He met the blow head on, and the force of it pushed him back slightly.
Shrugging aside the weight of her attack, he flipped over her to springboard off her shoulder, sending her to her hands and knees. Again, she spun, swinging her blade out from along her arm so that, while her sword deflected his counterattack, her foot connected with his ankle, knocking him aside. Twisting, he landed lightly with his free hand and propelled himself back up. Around him, the members of 10th Division murmured in awe. None had ever seen their captain thrown off balance.
That was the best she managed, however; she spent the rest of the match just trying to hold her own against him. Even so, he was impressed and could see her bladework equaled that of the handful of lieutenants he'd seen spar. Whatsmore, her fighting style was uniquely suited to her stature. Just as he used his height as an advantage, she used her body's distinctive weight distribution to add more power to her spinning attacks and maintain her balance at angles that would send other Shinigami her height tumbling. She was also resourceful and cunning, utilizing every part of her weapon, body and environment with a seemingly careless ease--she'd even gone so far as to try to head-butt him and throw dirt in his eyes. Despite her casual air, she was panting, sweaty and ragged by the time the gong was struck and the barriers fell to end the match.
"My, my! That was quite the workout!" She sheathed her sword and dusted off the knees of her hakama as they made their way to the pair of stools and pot of tea his subordinates had set out for them. "Thank you!" She beamed at Takezoe as he handed her a towel to wipe her face and hands. "Is it always so lively in 10th?"
Blushing slightly, the Shinigami muttered, "Uh..." and turned to his captain.
"No." He sipped his tea as she watched him with a skeptically raised eyebrow. How was it that she felt entitled to be skeptical toward a captain? None of his men ever were. "There is a great deal of paperwork," he elaborated.
Martially inclined captains didn't tend to be saddled with too many bureaucratic duties, but the first available captaincy after his graduation had been for 10th. While 3rd Division's responsibilities were not significantly more battle-oriented than his division's, she had seen a lot of Hollow hunts over the course of her career. There was no sense in sugarcoating the more sedentary obligations that would be required of his lieutenant.
"I see." Her tone was neutral as her gaze skimmed past him to scan the crowd of curious Shinigami around them. Although there was quite a bit of conversation amongst his men, none of it was close enough for them to hear. "Not many young men."
He wasn't sure if there was a hint of disappointment in her voice, but the observation blind-sided him. It wasn't something he'd consciously been aware of, yet once she'd mentioned it, it became glaringly obvious. How had he never noticed? He had a sudden, overwhelming sense that it mattered, though he wasn't quite sure how.
"They must be very loyal to have stayed with a new captain, especially one so young." She gave him a speculative glance and a subdued smile. "I wonder why that is...?"
Turning away from her, he closed his eyes as he sipped his tea, appreciating its soothing heat. "I'm sure they have their reasons." Even to his own ears, his voice was exceptionally gruff, and it made him wonder at himself. Why should he be uncomfortable about commanding the loyalty any captain should expect from his subordinates? While a part of his mind mulled this over, another part latched onto the prospect that it was just this kind of insight he could use in a lieutenant, the kind of insight he lacked.
"I'm sure they do." She had returned to the pert demeanor she'd had during the match. With another blush-inducing smile, she handed her mug and towel to Takezoe before heading to the center of the field where she began flexing her fingers and arms in preparation for the next match.
Passing off his mug to Orihara, he could see the questions in the man's eyes, but because no explanation had been given earlier, there was no point in asking. Instead, his third was frank. "She is quite impressive. You can see she was once a lieutenant."
Although it pleased him that Orihara had deduced the reason for his matches with Matsumoto, he offered only a noncommittal, "Hmm."
Again, he made his way to the center of the field, but this time she had situated herself so they were parallel to a different veranda. The choice had to be intentional. Perhaps she sensed his puzzlement, because she explained, "It's not everyday Shinigami get to see their captain in action. Everyone should get an equal chance to watch."
She bowed to him, and he returned it then gestured for the officials to put up the barriers. "Begin!"
They started with the basics--she with Bakudô 1, he with Hadô 1. She easily dodged his blast, and given his reiatsu, her restraint was as insubstantial as cobwebs. But her first attack distracted him long enough for her to set up her second--Hadô 63, the Lightening Tiger Cannon. He had to resist the urge to release Hyôrinmaru to form an ice shield, instead using a Bakudô barrier to ward off the blast. Although successful, it left his fingertips smarting, which would make manipulating magic more difficult.
He couldn't help but admire her strategy. Like bladework, skill and experience mattered as much as power when using kidô. In the limited space of the field, a barrier was the natural response to Hadô 63, no matter how strong or weak the Shinigami casting it. And the outcome would invariably impede the defender's handling of later spells. It was a clever maneuver that limited your opponent early on, even if it didn't do any serious damage.
Deflecting a blast of White Lightening with his arm, he tried Bakudô 1 on her. She brushed it off without much effort and responded with Hadô 31, which he cut through with his blade. After an interchange of various Hadô, he had the chance to try Bakudô 61 on her. Impressively, not only did she maintain her balance to dodge him after being affected by the restraint, but she also eventually muscled her way out of it. Grinning, she tried to cast the same binding spell on him, but he wouldn't give her the chance to finish the incantation.
Eventually, the air became so filthy that they both began to cough, so he used a Bakudô barrier to trap the dust against one of the empty walls. This gave her the time to cast Hadô 33, which he countered with his own. The resulting blast of blue shoved him back and threw her against the field's barrier, which trembled from the force of their combined kidô.
Taking advantage of her confined position, he prepared Bakudô 75, the most powerful restraint he could summon without a full incantation. But in the moment between her recovery from hitting the wall and his completion of the spell, she swung her sword forward with both hands. The spell bound it against her, but she somehow managed to keep the blade facing outward. The barrier behind her braced her while she struggled against the restraint that bound her head to toe. As she glowed from the full force of her reiatsu, a determined yell poured out of her. Amazingly, she focused her power along the edge of her blade and cut herself free of the restraint. Her achievement was met with scattered applause from his division, but she didn't seem to notice, her attention trained on him.
She'd begun to cast Waste Flame when the gong sounded, forcing her to backpedal the spell to keep it from going awry due to stopping mid-incantation. Once it was under control, she dissipated the potent Hadô and sheathed her sword with an exhausted huff. "Always been better at lightening spells, anyway," she muttered with a laugh, brushing back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder.
Although she appeared even more tattered and beaten than she had at the end of their first match, there was a noticeable cheerfulness about her. He found it confusing. "You're enjoying this?"
After thanking Takezoe for the fresh towel he offered and vigorously rubbing her face with it, she sat on her stool and tilted toward him with a conspiratorial whisper. "The truth is..." He couldn't help but bend closer in response. "I haven't had this much fun in ages!" Then she leaned back and laughed heartily, slapping her knee in delight. "Fighting in officially sanctioned barriers is quite decadent!"
Torn between the impulses to sputter and goggle, he resisted impulsiveness and settled on glowering. "This was not arranged for your amusement."
"Of course not." She nodded sagely and sipped her tea, then a grin slipped through the decorous facade. "But does that mean I shouldn't enjoy myself?"
Again, her question took him off guard. Since his first day at the Academy, he'd had one goal--to become a captain as soon as possible. Now that he was a captain, his focus was on performing his duties as diligently as possible. Enjoyment had never entered into the picture. It had been a long time since he'd really enjoyed anything...other than teasing Hinamori.
As though she could read his mind, she asked with quiet sincerity, "When was the last time you let loose against an opponent and didn't have to worry about collateral damage?"
She was right. There was a definite pleasure in being able to wield Hyôrinmaru freely, without worrying about hurting others. His bankai was gigantic and required vast areas to be used effectively, but even in shikai, Hyôrinmaru could be both massive and devastating. So it was rare that he had the opportunity to relish the power he shared with his sword.
"If you can't appreciate your own enjoyment, how can you be aware of the need for it in others?" It was an intrusive, presumptuous question, but she returned his outraged glare with a soft smile. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself once in a while."
Oddly, it made him think of the sorry state he'd found her in that morning and what might drive a person to do that to themself. When had she last found enjoyment in the world? She seemed to sense his thoughts and, as if afraid of revealing too much, turned her gaze away. There was no need; he knew he was not adept enough at reading people to decipher her secrets so easily.
Preferring her earlier attitude to this uncomfortable one, he grumbled, "You shouldn't be so eager to encourage your opponent to let loose, especially when he's a captain."
"Perhaps, but I have a theory about bankai and captains..." The satisfied glint had returned to her eyes. "I think, like most difficult skills, maintaining a bankai takes regular practice. The less often a bankai is used, the less pleased the zanpakutô becomes. And a grumpy zanpakutô leads to an uptight captain."
He wasn't sure if he should find her comment amusing or annoying, so he chose to be arrogant. "Be glad the field's too small for me to use my bankai."
Ignoring Orihara's astonished expression, he passed his mug and towel to his third then made his way to the center of the field. With her earlier comment about his men's view of the match in mind, he situated himself along the diagonal. She nodded in recognition of his choice as she joined him. They bowed and the barriers went up.
"Begin!"
With remarkable speed, she launched an aggressive round of sword and Hadô attacks that kept him preoccupied for nearly a minute. When he finally got the chance, he leapt into the sky and called out Hyôrinmaru. The young captain's size, speed and agility gave him the tactical advantage of being able to outmaneuver almost any opponent. Hyôrinmaru's release augmented that advantage by giving him control over the water in the air, allowing him to move through the sky of Soul Society like other Shinigami did through the air of the mortal world. He could hover, change direction, gain momentum and all but fly with Hyôrinmaru in shikai. He would have to be caught to be defeated, and being limited to the ground and shunpo, Matsumoto didn't stand a chance unless her zanpakutô's ability could somehow impede his mobility or improve hers.
Apparently it didn't--not that he could be sure because she wouldn't call her blade into shikai. Although it was no small thing to be able to resist the force of Hyôrinmaru's water attacks without shikai, her inability to effectively attack him or slow his assault was allowing the field to turn into mud. Already she was drenched and struggling to keep her footing despite her superior sense of balance and attempts to utilize the field's barriers to avoid the increasingly treacherous ground.
"Why don't you release your zanpakutô?" he demanded.
"To be honest," she huffed, dodging a bolt of ice, "it won't do much good against yours."
Irrationally, this made him all the more curious about her sword's ability, and being irrational irked him. With a flick of his wrist and a firm yank, Hyôrinmaru's chain wrapped around her sword and nearly ripped it from her grasp. Tipping her blade with a lunge, a shake and a twist, she freed her zanpakutô and slashed at him with it while blasting a nearby puddle with White Lightening, causing it to steam. It proved an ineffectual screen; a sweep of his hand, turned the steam to ice pebbles, making the ground all the more slippery.
In moments, he had captured her sword again with his chain. Once more she slipped free, this time releasing the dust that had been trapped from the previous match in another attempt to turn his altitude into a disadvantage. But under a flurry of cleansing snow, the dust, too, was swept away.
After he caught her blade a third time, she heaved a frustrated sigh then shouted, "Growl, Haineko!" And her blade turned to ash.
He was so startled that it took him a second to respond to her attack--throwing up a shield of ice that her zanpakutô easily shredded, along with the trailing edges of his captain's robe. But the ash of her sword was no faster than Hyôrinmaru's blasts, and as she had predicted, her sword was quickly rendered useless when he mixed it with water then froze it. The impact of it hitting the ground caused her to stumble and fall. Seated in the freezing mud, she set aside the hilt of her sword and raised her hands in acquiescence. "Uncle!"
In response to her defeat, the gong rang. After freezing an area on which to stand, he dropped to the ground. A wave of his hands melted the ice that trapped her zanpakutô, then he willed Hyôrinmaru's sheath to wrap around the blade as it settled against his back. In front of him, Matsumoto knelt in a puddle with the disgruntled air of a wet cat as she struggled to coerce her sword out of its ashen state. He had read of Shinigami who had unruly relationships with their zanpakutô, but it was the first time he'd seen such a thing.
"Don't make me look bad in front of all these nice men," she hissed while the blade finally finished coalescing out of the mud.
As he approached, he caught a glimpse of resignation in her eyes before she turned a remarkably neutral gaze to him. She remained humbly kneeling as she slipped her blade into its sheath and awaited his verdict, somehow aware that he would not mull over his decision. But he did mull over it, however briefly, considering all the reports he'd read about her as well as all he'd seen that day. She was far from perfect, but she was skilled and experienced and effortlessly possessed the softer aspects of command that he might never master with a hundred years of practice. Yet it was none of these qualities that settled the matter for him. Instead, it was her ability to return his grim gaze unflinchingly. She had demonstrated an uncanny knack at reading and responding to his moods, as well as an unerring self-awareness that allowed her to be comfortable in any situation, even kneeling in mud in front of a captain. And suddenly it occurred to him why he had found none of his subordinates suitable for the position of his second. She would not just work for him but with him. It was an essential distinction he had somehow never considered.
Slipping his hand into his sleeve, he pulled out the 10th Division's lieutenant badge that he'd been carrying since morning. "Matsumoto, will you be my lieutenant?"
A light sparked in her eyes. Whether it was relief or hope or some other emotion, he couldn't tell, but her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the badge. "It would be my honor, Captain."
Although they had not pitched their voices to carry, there was no mistaking what he had given her. The sudden burst of cheers from his men startled him, but he didn't let it show. Offering her his hand, he helped her to stand and turned to face the crowd. "Shinigami of 10th Division," he bellowed above the noise, "I am proud to introduce our new lieutenant, Rangiku Matsumoto!"
The uproar that followed was nearly deafening, yet he heard her say, "You should celebrate this with them, give them a chance to get to know me," as they made their way off the field. But when he turned to look, he found her waving and smiling to the others.
After a moment's consideration, he raised his voice to be heard again above the crowd. "Let's prepare a welcome feast!"
He had never seen his men express so much enthusiasm, and it made him recall the words of Yamamoto. "...there is more to our responsibilities than fulfilling our duties efficiently." He was assiduously efficient, but efficiency wasn't enough. Regardless of his denial that such intangible aspects of his command should matter to his superiors, he had unwittingly been failing his men with his disregard for the finer points of leadership. It was not that they were too austere to show enthusiasm, but that he hadn't inspired it in them. Now that he had someone to help him with these subtler responsibilities, it made some previously unnoticed tension in him ease.
It was time to move beyond being a diligent prodigy to become a worthy captain.
