Author's Note: So incredibly sorry, but I'll be off on holiday tomorrow, which is rather bitter-sweet. Sweet for obvious reasons (sleeping in, eating more unhealthily than normal, beach, sun... the list goes on and on), and bitter for equally obvious reasons (distractions and other nuisances that inevitably will prevent me from planning and possibly finishing up this literary journey). But I will try my hardest to update as often as I can, but I haven't even been able to secure a working Internet connection on location yet... So at the moment it looks pretty bleak for those plans. But, as I said, I will try. In any case, I just wanted to say sorry in advance I will not have forgotten about the story, I'll just be sitting somewhere gritting my teeth over a non-existent Internet. Sorry, sorry, sorry. If worse comes to worst, then I'll definitely update as soon as I get back in mid-August... Bleh.

Have a great summer, all you lovely, lovely people who have read the story so far!

--

Chapter 9: Snap, Tobiume! Growl, Haineko!


But she never fell.

She had balanced on the verge of oblivion, but she hadn't taken the last step.

She hadn't been allowed.


She had prepared for another long, sleepless night when a resolute knock had shattered the stillness of her gloomy living quarters.

"Hinamori? I'm coming in." Without waiting for her disapproval, the door had slowly slid open, revealing Matsumoto's tall figure outlined in the moonlight behind her. But the shinigami standing in the doorway had been a mere shadow of the vivacious woman, who once had been the life of every party – Matsumoto had looked truly terrible: her lustrous locks had looked dull and lifeless and hung over her shoulders in careless abandon. But the expression in her eyes had been the most distressing – normally, they would have sparkled with intelligence and enough mischief to keep her surroundings on its toes, but that night they had contained only weariness and exhaustion. Matsumoto hadn't looked like that since the arrancar war...

Then she had seen it.

The white haori hanging comfortably from Matsumoto's shoulders...

She had taken his place.

A lump had formed in her throat, and ice seemed to spread throughout her body.

How dared she.

She had stared accusingly at Matsumoto, silently demanding an explanation.

"You're wondering about the haori." She had shuddered when the woman finally answered the unspoken question. But in her angry confusion, she failed to recognize the traces of haunted hollowness amidst the cold and detached tone. "The day after he returned, I was given the status of acting Captain. It's only temporary – as soon as the Head-Captain finds a suitable replacement, I will resign from office, and return to my duties as a lieutenant."

The simple explanation had filled her with disbelief and rage. How could Matsumoto speak so dispassionately about Shiro's death – how dared she speak of a replacement so casually?! It was her Captain that she was talking about! Why didn't she show more emotion? Didn't Matsumoto even care? Had she felt anything when she took Shiro's place? How dared she abandon him like this?! How could she?! She had been his lieutenant, his friend – he had trusted her...

Suddenly, the image of Aizen had entered her mind. She thought that she had forced him out of her head a long time ago, but nonetheless, there he was in all his glory: Aizen Sousuke, her former Captain. She had trusted him completely and he had betrayed her without hesitation.

Shiro... Matsumoto... Aizen... trust...betrayal...Shiro...Matsumoto...Aizen...Aizen...

Aizen.

Betrayal and abandonment... Why?! Why was it happening again?

"I see." She had turned her back on Matsumoto, hoping that the shinigami wouldn't sense her growing fury. So she never noticed the pained expression that crossed Matsumoto's face – no, she had been busy staring into the darkness, fighting with herself for control of her pulsating spiritual energy.

"Hinamori..." Matsumoto's voice had softened. "It has been weeks, we're all worried about you, and-"

That was when she had lost all control.

She had spun around, eyes blazing with anger and hatred, "Why should you be worried? Why should you care?! How dare you take his place! He trusted you and you have abandoned him! You're a traitor, Matsumoto!" The wounded look in Matsumoto's eyes had not stopped her from continuing, "How does it feel to wear his haori? How does it feel to kno-"

The acting 10th Division Captain had silenced her with a furious slap.

"Don't you dare say something like that – you don't know!" Matsumoto hissed, her voice sounding dangerously low.

"Oh, don't tell me that I don't know! He's not coming back, he's gone! He never promised that he'd return, but... he just was!" Both of her hands had been clasped over her burning cheek, but she had ignored the pain. "But he didn't come back. I see him everywhere, and I feel his presence, but he's never there... It hurts, Matsumoto, it hurts all the time! It burns, it cuts, and it stings – it doesn't ever stop! How do I make it stop?! I'm so tired – I'm so tired of suffocating, of hurting, of feeling. How do I stop feeling?!"

She hadn't know why she told Matsumoto about the inescapable, gnawing pain that seemed to slowly consume her, but the words had flowed out of her mouth before she could stop herself. A feeling of shame had washed over her – only the weak revealed their vulnerability so openly, and she desperately wanted to be strong. What else did she have left?

An uneasy silence had surrounded them.

"Come. We're going to the training grounds." Matsumoto's unexpected request broke the silence, but did little to relieve the tension, which had threatened to crush them both.

"No." She had not wanted to go anywhere with that woman, especially not to the training grounds of Shiro's division. It would be too difficult, too painful... No, she wouldn't.

"It's an order, Hinamori. Get dressed. Now." Matsumoto had sounded strangely flat, hard, and leaving no room for a discussion.

"As you wish, Captain Matsumoto." She had gritted her teeth, but she knew that she had little choice but to comply; Matsumoto officially outranked her, and refusing to obey the orders from a Captain was a serious crime. But, with a single word, she had effectively erased years of friendship and camaraderie. And it had taken her no more than a heartbeat.

--

After what felt like years, they had finally reached the 10th Division training grounds. She had quietly followed Matsumoto to a rocky plateau, trailing the acting Captain by a few steps. It had been sufficient in demonstrating her disgust, but not enough to earn her a disciplinary charge.

"We are going to talk, whether you like it nor not." Matsumoto had stopped a couple of meters ahead of her and when she had turned around, her face had been unusually grim.

"Fine." She had laced the word with poisonous contempt, but it hadn't seemed to deter 10th Division's acting Captain.

"How do you feel?"

The question had caught her completely off-guard, and she had stared at Matsumoto with suspicion. What kind of enquiry was that? But she had decided to wait for the other woman to clarify herself.

"Are you angry?"

Angry? Why would she feel angry? Shiro, the single most important person in her life, had been murdered by her own, former Captain. She felt devastated, heartbroken, crushed... but angry?

"No."

She had hoped that her short, curt reply would satisfy Matsumoto, so that she'd finally leave her alone. But the acting Captain hadn't given up, "It's alright to be angry."

She had felt how her body stiffened – what the hell was Matsumoto implying? How could she possibly be angry with Shiro? She loved him! Why couldn't Matsumoto understand that?!

"I'm not angry."

"But you are! Hinamori, who are you trying to fool? You can barely control your spiritual pressure!"

She froze. How could Matsumoto sense her violently fluctuating spiritual pressure? She had been very careful to suppress it, especially after she realized that only a fraction had been enough to send both Renji and Izuru head-first into a wall. She had suspected that the sudden surge of her spiritual energy had something to do with her pain, but she had never suspected... No, it simply couldn't be.

"I'm not angry!"

"Being angry doesn't mean that you love him less! It just means that you're normal, damn it! It's ok to feel like you do! It's ok!"

"No, it's not ok! Shiro loved me despite of everything I did – he loved me! It is my fault that he died; it's my fault that he's not coming back! So no, I have no right to be angry!" She didn't know when she had started screaming, but she could hear her own voice echo around her. She had sounded desperate, aching – she had sounded as if she was in pain. "I'm not angry! I'm not angry!"

"You know as well as I do that Captain left because he wanted to protect you, to protect all of us. None of this has been your fault. He lived for you, you know. He always did. So stop pretending, and FEEL, damn it! If you keep on running way from your feelings, then you won't recover!"

Then something inside her had snapped, and she could no longer contain her raging emotions.

"AAARRGHH!"

The scream had been filled with all of her pain, heartache, and confusion. Without thinking, she had unsheathed her zanpakutou.

"SNAP, TOBIUME!"

Her zanpakutou obediently transformed, and she had felt how her raging spiritual energy flowed from her body and into the blade. Tobiume had started to glow, but not in its usual deep pink – instead, it had blazed in a deep, flaming crimson.

The enormous boulders around her had then quickly been reduced to fine powder by her concentrated spiritual energy, and she had only slowed her attacks when the air became thick with dust particles and smoke. When she no longer could see her targets, she had finally been forced to stop.

Matsumoto's eyes had been wide with worry when her friend disappeared in the smoke, "Stop, Hinamori, stop! Tobiume... Hinamori? Why aren't you answering me?! Hinamori?! Momo! Damn it! Answer me!"

But she had ignored Matsumoto's shouts. Instead, she had focused on Tobiume's familiar presence that had softly entered her mind.

"Little one, it has been a long time."

"Yes, Tobiume, it has."

"We have grieved."

"..."

"You have grown, little one."

"Maybe I have."

"You have changed."

"So have you."

"Soon... I can sense it growing. It will not be long now."

"I don't understand."

"No, you're not quite ready yet. But in time, you will be."

"Tobiume?"

"Yes, little one?"

"I feel different."

"You are."

"Why?"

"You will understand when you are ready to understand."

"I demand that you tell me, Tobiume!"

"First, you must learn to control yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"..."

"Tobiume?"

"Yes, little one?"

"I..."

"I know, little one, I miss them, too..."

--

When Tobiume's whispers faltered, she had directed her attention to the outside world once more; the dust had settled and the smoke had cleared to reveal a hesitant Matsumoto. The sight of the woman and the haori had once again filled her with bitter resentment. Why did Matsumoto seem to understand what she was feeling better than she did herself? Why didn't anything make sense anymore? Why wasn't he still here?

"Hinamori?"

"Shut up."

"Your spiritual pressure, it–"

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Hinamori, you should–"

"Don't tell me what to feel!"

Her spiritual pressure had flared, but she couldn't and wouldn't do anything to stop it – when she channelled herself into Tobiume, she felt strangely calm, as if she was drained of her turbulent feelings if only for a moment. As she released more and more of her spiritual energy, the glow around Tobiume had grown and intensified. The crimson light had finally completely encompassed her, too – it had looked as if she was surrounded on all sides by a raging firestorm.

"You want me to stop? Make me." She had issued her challenge with an icy voice, making it absolutely clear that she would not retreat.

Then she had waited, watching Matsumoto, and appraising her reaction. The Captain had looked perplexed and concerned, but her eyes had not lost their expression of stubborn determination, and at last she had issued the command.

"Growl, Haineko."

Perfect.

--

Violent bursts of crimson light lit up the night sky over the 10th Division training grounds, while hazy streams of ash mercilessly cut through the air. The furious battle had demolished everything in a 100 meter radius of their clashes – they had used all the skills in their respective arsenals: kidou, shunpo, hakuda, and zanjutsu.

"Why are you fighting me, Hinamori?"

"You brought me here!"

"It was time."

"No!"

"You can't avoid him forever."

"Shut up!"

"He wouldn't have wanted you to fear him."

"I'm not afraid!"

"Then what are you?"

She froze midair, landing nimbly on her feet – she hadn't known what to say. Once again, Matsumoto's question had required an answer that she didn't have. There were so many questions, but so few answers.

What am I? What do I feel?

Do I really feel anger?

I don't know.

I am... I am angry?

I don't know.

It just hurts.

Why?

I don't know.

It hurts.

I miss him.

Am I afraid?

I don't know.

It hurts.

I JUST DON'T KNOW!

...So, what do I do?

--

Matsumoto had barely enough time to erect a protective shield around herself with Haineko, when the level of her spiritual pressure exploded. Momo had recognized the feeling from when Renji and Izuru had attempted to enter her quarters, but this time, she had not held back – instead, she had poured all of her spiritual energy into one last attack.

When the smoke finally cleared, both women had still been standing, but panting heavily and staring at the other. But no more attacks were made: Haineko's blade had disintegrated from the impact of the attack, while Tobiume's blade had shattered from the sheer force of the channelled spiritual energy.

Completely exhausted, both women had sunk to the ground.

Silence had settled over them, and while the atmosphere hadn't been overwhelmingly friendly, it had no longer been murderous – the tension had dissipated together with their energy.

"I hate you... Rangiku."

"It's not me that you hate, Momo."

"Then who?"

"You know who."

"I don't hate him. How could I hate him?"

"He left you."

"He loved me."

"I know. But still, you hate him for what he did."

"But..."

"You hate him because he won't come back."

"..."

"Hating that he's gone doesn't mean that you don't love him. It just tells you that you haven't forgotten how to feel, Momo. You're trying to collect the ruined pieces of that which broke when he died. There is no right or wrong way to do it."

"But... it's Shiro! I-I-I couldn't..."

"I hated him when the Captains brought him back, when they carried him away. I think that I still do...a little. It wasn't supposed to be this way, Momo. I'm just a lieutenant – I'm his lieutenant. I'm not replacing him, because no one ever could...because he- When the Head-Captain gave me the haori, I didn't want it – I just wanted him back. I just want my Captain back!"

Matsumoto hadn't tried to conceal the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, and Momo's conscience stung for every drop. Those tears spoke of inconsolable grief and hurt, and they had told her everything that she needed to know.

She had been wrong, so utterly wrong – Matsumoto would never betray him.

But the former lieutenant never had the luxury of retreating from the world, and to slowly nurse her grief in peace; no one had really considered her pain, the one who had been at his side for decades. Instead, Matsumoto had been forced to be brave for the sake of her subordinates, who were clinging to her now that their Captain was gone. She had been forced to face his abandoned desk and to wear the numbered haori that rightly should have been worn by him. Matsumoto had been forced to be strong for everyone except herself.

As they sat on the rocky ground, surrounded by the devastation from their battle, she realized just how much Matsumoto had suffered in silence, how much she hurt. So she had staggered to her feet, reaching over to her sobbing friend and pulling her close in a hesitant hug. She had treated Matsumoto like an enemy – what if she now had lost her, too?

But Matsumoto had nearly smothered her in her famous embrace.

When her friend finally released her, her body had felt unnaturally heavy and she sank back on the ground. But the feeling had been distinctly different from the dull exhaustion that had permanently plagued her mind ever since the day she received the horrendous news.

This feeling, this dazed weight on her limbs, had almost been pleasant.

She had already closed her eyes when she thought that she heard Captain Unohana's mild voice, "I recommend that both Captain Matsumoto and lieutenant Hinamori stay at the 4th Division tonight. Neither seems to have sustained any serious injuries, but I would prefer to keep them under observation just to be certain."

"That would seem an appropriate plan of action." A second authoritative voice had reached her ears, but this time it had belonged to a male. Who was he?

She hadn't bothered to open her eyes to find out; the smooth melodies of the voices and the spiritual pressures surrounding her had been soothing, assuring her that she was safe. She hadn't known why she had trusted them, but she had allowed herself to let go.

She had felt tired, so very tired.

"Maybe I do hate you, Shiro. But that is only because I-" she had whispered to herself before yielding to the warm, velvet darkness that enveloped her mind.

Yes, it would be nice to sleep.


Any and all thoughts about this chapter are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.