Dreaming of sunshine:
I dream of sunshine.
A tree that bears poisonous persimmons, a hell butterfly and a grinning silver snake
as Eden comes crashing down around us.
13 years ago…
"Congratulations you're pregnant!"
"…What?"
It's a delayed reaction, really it is, and she's had two weeks to come to terms with this.
Hell she's the one who approached her captain, confided in him then asked him to plan a meeting with his sister just to confirm what she already knows. Then she came up with a plan that could get them in heaps of trouble with Central 46, now that she thinks about it, it's very half assed circling around the possibility of little success. No one ever said Rangiku's a brain, but she's certainly no dumb blond.
Besides she an optimist at heart and there's really no turning back now.
The room is warded to the nth degree with illegal kido, and if she wasn't so dazed she'd show her appreciation—she'd always been a bit of a troublemaker, this blatant show of breaking the law just for her deserves some recognition, but words escape her at the moment.
Beside her, the tenth division captain Unohana Kou laughs nervously as his older sister tilts her head and continues as if she wasn't interrupted.
"You're about seven weeks along; you appear to be very healthy…"
Unohana Retsu's words trail off into white noise that blares loudly in Rangiku's ears. This isn't a happy occasion, but she'd be damned if she didn't make the best of it.
It'd started when she began to train for bankai…again. Like the many times in the past, much of her energy had been drained, but this time she'd barely begun before being struck by extreme exhaustion. Strange, very strange, that had never happened before, the only time she'd ever heard of such a thing occurring was when a lieutenant in her regiment had become pregnant….Oh shit!
Then came the mornings from hell.
Stumbling into the bathroom half conscious and dry heaving on an empty stomach, nothing like the hangovers she's suffered in the past, those could be solved with healing kido, this was ongoing and persistent.
She'd known right then and there, but knowing and doing something about it are two separate things.
For a second she basked in the rays of denial before coming to terms with her situation—saying the word pregnant is still difficult, nevertheless she's making progress.
Rangiku lives for the moment, parties for the present, and is hello a drinking champion; she'd beaten Captain Kyoraku Shunsui twice when she was a lieutenant in his division. In a nut shell she isn't fit to be a mother.
"Matsumoto-fukutaicho?"
"Rangiku?"
She snaps to attention to find her captain staring at her in concern, then glancing nervously at his sister who has that ever a pleasant smile on her face. Really Rangiku doesn't know who's creepier: Unohana Restu with the scary presence surrounding her caring figure or Gin with his sharp fox features-
Shit Gin. One of the main reasons she and her captain are here, time to put on her game face. What was she saying again?
"No I don't want to terminate the pregnancy and the father won't be involved," She sighs, Gin's long absences, disappearances acts without explanations wouldn't bode well for a child. "Gin isn't the fathering type."
A spike of spiritual pressure and a sharp glance are all signals of mild disproving from the healer, which are promptly dismissed by Rangiku; she feels no shame. Interrelations between subordinates and superior officers are not banned, but very much frowned upon, resulting sometimes in favoritism, lapse in judgment, etcetera.
Her connection to Ichimaru Gin starts with a childhood bond formed from a shared need to survive. Changing into sometimes lovers and an estranged friendship kept under tight wraps.
She had always found herself following the invisible footsteps of the one who left her behind. It was time to forge her own path.
And the lack of trust between her and Ichimaru had doomed them from the start.
Besides Soul Society isn't the place she wishes to raise her child. When she became a soul reaper her choices had been limited, it was either thrive or die. The Seireitei had seemed like paradise when one had grown up in the outer limits of the Rukongai, hungry and scavenging from the spiritual power that plagued her.
She'd come from the academy starry eyed, ready to move her way up through the ranks and most of all to party after gaining a penchant for drinking. Over time the rose tinted glasses had lifted and with it came the reality of being a military dog.
It's sobering to realize the government she serves so eagerly is corrupt.
At least in the human world she would have choices living incognito, the afterlife seen as Eden is a lie and a half.
"Onee-sama," Really her captain is laying it on thick, compared to familiar almost disrespectful way he usually addresses her, but who is Rangiku to judge she couldn't imagine growing up with such a sibling, she'd be wary too. Unohana Restu isn't the first Kenpachi for nothing. "We talked about this," he cries. "We need your connections."
And her help is needed indeed.
Ukitake and Kyōraku taichos refer to her as senpai, Unohana Retsu must have major weight in the grand scheme of things. Best to play on that good will.
It doesn't matter as long as the results are the same: Rangiku gets the heck of dodge and Gins never finds about her baby.
Duplicity, manipulation, taking advantage of good will blah, blah, blah… she feels remorse, really she does, but a mother will move heaven and Earth for her child and she might as well start now.
She thinks what spurs this on is the realization that even though marriage or even children is nowhere in the near future for her, the possibility that she may never have those two things really turns the tables. Gin has always been at the centerfold of such rare thoughts; this is her chance to have a piece of him and herself.
Now their thread of fate hung on the goodwill of one of the founding captains. Really she's got to learn how to play her cards right; no wonder she sucks at poker.
"Hush Kou-chan, no need to raise your voice, I know exactly what you speak of. I like Matsumoto-fukutaicho. She's managed to keep you alive while following your lead, that speaks a lot about her character if she's able to put up with you; of course I'll help." All of this is said in such a polite manner that Rangiku has to look at her captain who winces, then flushes to realize he's been insulted.
Oooh triple burn: endearment, leadership skills, and maturity level.
"Nee-san!" he protest weakly, Retsu smiles, who knows what the score is between the two, but it looks as if the older sibling is in the lead.
Oh. Rangiku then realizes, she said, 'Of course I'll help.' She sags in relief; she's barely accomplished all that she needs to do, yet she can honestly say phase one is complete.
"Now," Retsu begins, "A fellow named Urahara Kisuke owes me a few favors. The exiled Urahara-san is the former captain of the 12th division…."
A plan is created, the seed of it blossoming under the connections of one Unohana Retsu and the empathy of her brother, and the rookie cunning of a mother-to-be.
It is not full proof, but the kinks will be worked out:
She is to lead a mission to the human world; luckily section 63 has had a large influx of hollows, thus requiring constant maintenance until the problem is solved. Then become the tragic casualty or rather the commanding officer who died protecting her platoon of soldiers—a befitting death for a military dog.
The double-ganger will be a courtesy call of the current 12th division captain, who doesn't owe Retsu-taicho a favor; rather they are fond of each other. Rangiku shudders at the thought of a friendship between the two, enough said.
A body won't be found; she'll soul particles on the wind from then on. From there she is to arrive in Karakura town, an epicenter for spiritual pressure. At Urahara's Shop she'll be expected, and then the ball really begins to roll. She'll be given all that she needs to start a new life, Unohana will deliver her baby and-
Hold up:
"What will you gain by helping me?" Questions Rangiku suspiciously.
Kou looks a bit outraged at her, after all should this go wrong there will be repercussions for all.
The gleam in Unohana Retsu's eyes are both calculating and sincere, "Children of captain class shinigami are always powerful, influence over them is another power altogether."
There's a lot Rangiku can say to that, a few angry words are at the tip of her tongue.
To look a gift horse in the mouth or shut up…she nods hesitantly this is for her baby, one of the many things that will come to bite her in the ass, but right now sacrifices must be made.
Besides at the end of the day what are we all but puppets on a grand stage?
They go back to their machinations.
It's not a matter of destiny,
Greatness is inevitable for the prodigal son,
But for now rest your head; your time shall one day come.
It's a novel experience.
Genius has no limits—debatable—when curiosity bothers him, questions are asked, answers are demanded.
Unohana Retsu answers him candidly, there's no indulgence in her voice as most adults seem to gain when addressing him, a mere child who should be seen not heard. Nor does she seem threatened by his intellect or general apathy.
It's quite refreshing.
When his check overs are done she informs him she'll answer his questions on her next visit. Toushiro is usually a patient person, but this wait is… unacceptable.
His injuries still pain him, however his recovery's happening at a swift rate, the moment he's on his feet he follows her as she goes about her rounds, firing questions and becoming her unofficial assistant.
And while she answers his questions he learns.
Unohana-taicho says his spiritual pressure is very developed for his age, she expects no less. She teaches simple techniques. Healing kido she calls it, something Ka-san has performed on him in the past when his curiosity would get the best of him and he'd get injured in the process—quite rare, but he is a boy prone to being rough and tumbling.
Comparisons are drawn, it's unfair yet he can't help but draw parallels between Rangiku and Retsu. Ka-san has always fed his inquisitiveness, but constantly kept information, something that has frustrated him to no end. In their short acquaintance Unohana not only encourages him to continue his unrelenting queries, but answers him truthfully.
Knowledge is power, something Toushiro always absorbs.
They speak of many subjects, some in depth, others are glossed over:
Soul Society no longer becomes a place shrouded in mystery. It becomes quite fascinating to know that the afterlife is a… dystopia that humans are unaware of. The dynamics of Soul Society show a trickle down affect: from the spirit king, to the Central 46 ruled with an iron fist by the noble houses, then to the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, and onward.
Shinigami work for the greater good he concludes from all the explanations his godmother gives him. This "greater good" is a double edged sword to keep the balance between the human world, the spiritual world, and hueco mundo.
He wants to know how and why Ka-san left Soul Society.
To this the fourth division captain pauses in the midst of changing compresses and replies, "I helped Matsumoto-san fake her death, though her reasons are her own… this is not my tale to tell."
And that's that, the issue is left hanging in the air, a wisp to be grasped at a later date.
They move on.
On some levels he can understand why Ka-san kept him in the dark about his background, and yet that dies a horrible death as he becomes more in the know.
It is not just Unohana he harasses ... er… includes in his inquiries. No one is spared from his wrath, woe to all who gain his interest; the visored in particular grow weary, then at ease.
Despite his serious nature, Toushiro is his mother's son. Sociable, even charming when he needs to be and Toushiro is anything if not polite—a reference to his mother, a smile that is all Matsumoto, and genuine interest in their memories of her as student at the academy, as a seated officer, or as co-caption. Then their insights/stories became his for the taking.
Yet he spends most his time in this temporary sickbay with Unohana and curiosity serves him well:
The war that has encompassed those of the spiritual persuasion, this "Winter War" that he has become another victim of due to his parents, is the workings of a mad man. A person who is similar to himself, and from what Toushiro understands reached the end of his tether. Those select individuals that are genius' function on a different sphere from other people, and it's their humanity that tie them down to the earth. Aizen Sosuke obviously gave up all weakness and found himself quite alone, and thus the current madness.
To err is to human and Toushiro embraces all his shortcomings, and will choose the foolish route over the most efficient always.
He has no intention of becoming a nutcase.
Despite his sociopathic tendencies Aizen Sosuke is brilliant, or rather a thief riding on the coattails of Urahara Kisuke's brilliance. Arrancars, the Esada, the hybrid Kurosaki Ichigo—quincy,hollow,human, shingami—the vizards.
It is all quite fascinating.
This Urahara Kisuke Unohana speaks of fondly he's met apparently when he was dead to the world, and a mention of a Kurotsuchi Mayuri he doesn't want to be within a mile radius of.
It appears Soul Society breeds prodigies like a broodmare, makes enemies of them, and barely keeps a leash on the ones that stay.
This does not bode well for him.
Another example includes his father, who's apparently a… double agent.
To this the prodigal son treads lightly, this reeks of conspiracy.
His curiosity burns with the might of a thousand suns, and yet he can't bring himself to speak. This hesitation chafes him, and continues as Unohana mentions Ichimaru in passing. Toushiro swears she knows he wants to ask about his father, and purposely avoids going into detail. He couldn't understand the fear people showed her before when she smiles, however he's getting the gist of it. Sadistic bitch.
And so the topic of Gin goes unsaid.
Until now:
"Toushiro," Unohana holds her cup of tea with grace and sips.
"Hai," he murmurs absently, neck deep in paperwork. Toushiro likes to be organized; the discovery of his penchant for paperwork is a godsend for the frazzled seated officers. This war is conjuring more paperwork that can be processed.
"We're going to be relocating back to the division four barracks and leaving this warehouse."
Icy teal eyes widen and he stills, reading between the lines. Many things go unsaid in that statement:
They'll be leaving the warehouse and going to the spirit world.
The likelihood of meeting his father is high.
He chooses his next words carefully, "Will I be meeting him?"
The name goes unsaid, for a moment Toushiro curses himself for fearing to say his name. And yet the real possibility of meeting the man who fathered him, whose name he only gleamed a few days ago is suddenly daunting.
"Shiro-chan," She replies, "that's up to you."
Two days later the Senkaimon opens.
A hell butterfly appears to guide them.
Adieu is bidden to those who warrant it.
He finally gives into that urge to make a face at Hiyori, and narrowly avoids her well-aimed sandals at his head.
Through the Senkaimon he steps, from the brilliant light into the fading dusk of Soul Society. Following Unohana's lead, taking in his surroundings, noting things of interest absently, filing them away for later.
He is rather pensive.
Over the last two days his thoughts have been rather single minded, creating situations in his head, mentally preparing himself. Toushiro doesn't believe in denial, and rather not delay the unavoidable.
And now he stands down the hall, piles of paperwork in hand—the seated officers here are even more useless—under the guise of filing them.
This is the hour of reckoning.
For here, down the hall is a curiosity that has existed over his head like a bad omen for his whole life. An enigma that will have a face, voice, personality to match the name he's just learned and perhaps even step into the role of—the wish is so childish and he struggles to dash it away.
He's never needed him before so why should it matter all of sudden. It shouldn't, but it does.
Mouth dry, he swallows hard. Putting the folders down, and pinches the bridge of his nose. And then runs his hands through white hair tinged silver, all telltale signs of frustration, maybe even a smidgen of anxiety.
At his back Retsu appears, silently pushing him forward.
Toushiro glances at her from over his shoulder for a moment, and then moves along leaving the folders behind.
It's now or never.
Jump out a building,
Jump out a window,
Set yourself on fire,
Just remember this is all one great lark.
….Not.
On September 25th worlds collide:
Idleness… something he usually can't abide by.
And he isn't, he's scheming, working in the shadows doing what he does best: calling upon favors, securing loyalty, gathering evidence in his defense.
For there is to be a trail, pretense they say. Gin's not taking any chances, the bureaucrats and aristocrats that run the Central 46 have been known—at least certain parties—for their favoritism and condemnation to save face value. Aizen killed the most recent lot; hopefully the new members will have their heads screwed on straight.
The chopping block can wait, here and now he's zen, savoring the moment eating dried persimmon atop his hospital bed, watching the sunset with the ghosts of his past.
It's been a long time since he's been able to breathe.
Then there's a disturbance in the force; Gin tenses.
An unfamiliar reiatsu, he'd be impressed by the wielder's control if it wasn't so tightly wound. Ouch that's gotta hurt, obviously he's has no formal training, his zanpakutou must be in pain, screaming at'em; Gin relaxes but stays alert.
This person's deigned to stop right outside his open door, and he wonders if he should turn around and greet him. Naw that would require being polite and he isn't up to the task. Ten minutes pass by and this stranger has yet to speak, Gin has no intention of breaking the silence, he's gonna revel in it until it becomes awkward and this stranger leaves.
That is until the stranger speaks, sprirt king and all be damned:
"Ah," the tone is deadpanned, "Ka-san's favorite fruit is persimmon; she must have gotten it from you. I'm not surprised."
"Ran-chan…" Slips from his tongue reverently as he whips around, almost expecting her to be there.
Instead there's a boy, a preteen really but let's not fuck around with logistics and details here, cause Gin's usually five steps ahead of most people and this right here is so out of left field.
His mind is racing and drawing conclusions.
He's seeing her in this boy's familiar features: Rangiku's full pouting lips set in a frown, the shape of her eyes, hell the way he's crossing his arms, staring back defiantly under Gin's scrutiny.
The boy tilts his head, flexing long tapered fingers and Gin's starting to see himself.
Gin's eyes are wide and the same shade as this boy's.
It's been thirteen give or take years since he's seen Rangiku, this boy is about that age.
Somewhere Shiba Isshin is laughing his ass off; he used to wax poetic about a possible kid between Gin and Ran-chan.
It takes a lot to shock Ichimaru Gin, usually he's the one delivering crippling news, hell he's make a sport of it. There's a first time for everything, and these first times have been happening a lot recently, he doesn't like it.
After a lengthy silence where the tension has grown to a ridiculous rate the kid fidgets, then speaks, "I've been told if I wanted to hear childhood stories about my mother I should find the person who knows her best," the kid pauses… almost dramatically and delivers a devastating line that knocks the wind out of Mr. snake in the grass, "I should find my father."
There's a flash of vulnerability that crosses the boy's stoic face, before he says in a matter-of-fact tone, "You're Ichimaru Gin I presume, I'm Hitsugaya Toushiro. Matsumoto Rangiku's my mother, and you're… my—"
"Father," Gin breaths –right of out the mouths of babes—as he stares at this boy—his son!—Gin gets the strangest urge to ruffle his white—almost silver—hair, call him "little man"—he's kinda on the short side—just to see how he'll react.
Great his first parental urge is to irritate his kid—really he's asking for it, so serious! And Gin's smile is back, his eyes are still wide though, "Your mum was always a spit fire, I shouldn't have underestimated her. Rangiku really got one over on me."
The kid—Toushiro looks uncomfortable, but not enough to let a cheeky ass comment slip through, "Obviously she didn't trust you."
He glares at him and really Gin's starting to see a lot of himself in Toushiro. The idea of him and Rangiku in one person is an entirely different concept from having actual person in the flesh, little shit.
That urge he was fighting earlier, yeah no more.
Gin's up, moving swiftly as much his still healing injuries will let him, but before he can touch that gravity defying head of hair a solid wall of ice appears between them. Gin's grin widens hiding his surprise, his kid has got mad potential, and instincts if the sudden fear in his eyes have anything to say; Toushiro's been through hell recently. Gin noticed the bandages under his kimono earlier and the stiff way he held himself.
Toushiro's got this deer caught in headlights look, and Gin can't blame him, he's a relative stranger moving into his kid's personal space without warning, his hackles would be raised too.
"Chill kid, I'm not gonna hurt yah." The prodigal son eyes him cautiously and nods; the barrier disperses.
Gin's hand reaches out between them, a peace offering, Toushiro eyes the hand so like his own. It comes down his head, "You're a bit on the short side, aint yah Shiro-chan?"
Ice eyes flash fiercely—so much like Ran-chan—as he bites out, "Who the hell are you calling short?"
"You little man, your still a kid, you'll get your growth spurt…eventually." Gins pulls his son into a half hug, Toushiro tenses then relaxes bringing up a hand and clutching his father's heavy haori. Gin confides, "If I'd known about you, I'd have been there every step of the way."
"That's a lie," Toushiro replies bluntly, voice slightly muffled, "you had a mission, but… I would have liked you there too."
Kid's right, if I'd known I still would have gone through with it, except I'd have two reasons instead of one.
Gin's arm tightens around him before he gently pushes him away, saying gruffly, "Enough of this mushy stuff, now tell me who put yah through the wringer?"