Summer Festivals

Hey, sorry for the really long delay! (dodges flying bricks) I was on holiday until quite recently so I wasn't able to update. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's slightly longer than usual, and it's mainly based on the natsumatsuri (summer festival) I went to with my friend in Japan a few weeks ago. Also, thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed so far, every single one has been well appreciated!

I Don't Own Bleach

They watch as the fireworks shed their colourful petals across the night sky.

Every summer in Seireitei, they hold this festival, courtesy of Shiba Kuukaku, and everyone, every single Shinigami, flocks onto in the wide streets, some climbing onto rooftops, just to see the bright explosives rise up into the sky. It has become something like a tradition, something they all look forward to, something that they enjoy, and occasion where they can rely on to have fun.

Every summer, Hitsugaya watches quietly from the roof of his office, a little distance away from where the main gatherings are, content with watching the events unfold on his own. He prefers it that way – at least its better that down on the streets around the first five divisions where refreshment stalls leak the strong smells of all sorts of food and drink, where it's so crowded you can't move a meter in one direction in less that ten minutes, where members of a certain division take it upon themselves to create havoc and fight in the streets (three guesses which division – first two don't count).

Not that he's ever witnessed or experienced any of the above – he hears rumors, or catches snippets of happenings from Matsumoto's non stop gossip two days after (she takes the day after off due to severe hangover ness), and that's enough to keep his away from the red light area.

And every summer, Matsumoto insists that he's missing out on all the fun.

Personally, he always says, if it's what Matsumoto calls fun, he'd rather stay out of it, thank you very much.

But this summer, Matsumoto intends to not let him sit on the roof like he always does, and instead drag him down to where the centre of the festival is.

About half an hour before the fireworks were due to start, the corridors and offices were silent and empty, save one – the 10th division office, where Hitsugaya sulked at his desk due to the amount of paperwork which Matsumoto had thrust upon him when she left about three hours ago to go 'get ready'. As soon as this pile was done, he'd climb up the steps to the roof, he promised himself. But the fact that the surrounding area was so still, so hushed, he found it hard to concentrate. He was used to working with the noisy complaints of his lieutenant, the shouts and scuffle of fights in the neighbouring eleventh division, the candy filled scream of a certain little brat from next door.

It was just too quiet.

…Okay, maybe not, he thought, as he heard a rush of footsteps that sounded like a herd of elephants galloping down the corridor, accompanied by shouts and laughs of familiar voices. He sighed, shook his head, and went back to his paperwork.

But he couldn't complete the last action due to the fact that he was too busy getting up from the floor where he had fallen after he jumped ten feet into the air, and his ass missing his chair on the way down.

Why?

Because of the sudden appearance of his lieutenant along with all of the shinigami above vice-captain class through his doorway, all wearing colourful yukata and supporting huge smiles. Before he could blink, Matsumoto was at his side, clutching his arm tightly, not letting go however hard he squirmed.

And he was being dragged out of the door, despite his desperate protests.

About an hour later, he sat on a stone step, surrounded by chatting individuals, watching the last of the fireworks struggle up into the air, finishing and enjoying his first okonomiyaki, all with a smile on his face, and all thanks to Matsumoto. His emerald eyes were wide and bright, reflecting the light of the fireworks, his silver hair messed up slightly in the light breeze, his hands clutching on to the plastic plate on which the snack had been served on.

This summer, Hitsugaya did not spend the fireworks festival all on his own on the rooftop of his office. Instead, he joined in on the celebration along with every single shinigami in Seireitei, and discovered that it was better that he expected.

And it was all Matsumoto's idea.

He glanced to the shadow to his left. Matsumoto was perched on the very edge of the step, her hands clasped on her lap, her eyes were fixed on the happenings in the sky, and while they illuminated her face perfectly, they could not remove the stains of okonomiyaki sauce from her face. But he liked it this way.

The whole night of fun he had at the festival, he owed to her.

"Thank you," he whispered.

They both watched, side by side, as the last firework scattered its light across the stars.