AN: Hey look! finally! a new chapter! (grins) um... so, when I said somewhere that I'd probably be able to write more when I got to school... yeah, apparently that was a lie. I'm waaaaay busier than I was even over the summer... go figure. i haven't had time to reply to reviews, review /other/ people's updates or even check out the new people that have alerted/faved me or my stories... (whimpers) it's worse on deviantart, if you can believe it. so it makes sense to say I've had very little time to write. and it's going to be worse next month (but hey, what's a month for you guys, right? lol). see, here's the plan. I'm going to participate in NaNoWriMo!! and, erm, write the first book of my original series. coupled with classes, hanging out with friends and ra responsibilites, I don't expect to have much extra time, if any. so, odds are, after this update, there will be none until december (or later, knowing me). Also, I /think/ the high school plot thread will resolve next chapter... unless it decides to get too long (which it might) in which case it'll be two chapters... and then we're at the climax people... how exciting is /that/! (smiles) anyway, enough from me, go enjoy the chapter! and, of course, tell me what you think... (smiles again)
Momo sat fidgeting nervously in a chair just outside the nurse's office. She was scared, terrified even, of both what she was going to do, and what she would do if she succeeded. But she knew that saving Toushirou was more important.
To be quite honest, she didn't truly know what was going on… Only that it had happened before, when both of them were younger. He had showed up at school with mysterious cuts and bruises that he refused to explain. He had gotten very quiet, inexplicably, and tried to avoid almost everybody whenever he could. She had tried so very hard to get close to him, to convince him to explain what was going on so that she could help, only to be continuously rebuffed.
Instead, Toushirou had withdrawn further and further into himself, so much so that it was nearly painful to watch. She had figured out that it had something to do with things going on at home, but he wouldn't let her come over and visit either.
The real turning point had been somewhat long in coming, but essentially culminated in Toushirou showing up unannounced on her doorstep and dripping in blood. He asked if he could hide for a few days (thereby ridding Momo of the constant worry she'd been indulging) in exchange for no questions asked.
The way Momo had seen it, she'd had two options. One, she could demand answers and potentially send Toushirou back into the situation that had brought him pain or two, she could do what he asked.
She never had been one to question when it was about saving someone. Sure, she needed to know, but she needed him safe more. So she snuck him into her room (a difficult task with her very perceptive mother) and bandaged him as best she could.
A few days later he'd moved out to a friend's house (someone she hadn't known) until he was old enough to have a job and his own place. The cuts had never returned and she'd kept her word about never asking.
But now, now all bets were off. If this was the same situation, then it was pretty clear he couldn't get out of it by himself. She needed to know what was going on and she needed to know before he knew what she was up to. It would be a little tricky, but no one ever said Momo wasn't up for a challenge.
"Excuse me?" she interrupted the lady in the office. She winced internally at the timidity in the sound. She would have to work on that.
The lady at the desk looked up from her paperwork to stare at Momo.
She was oddly pretty, Momo thought frantically, mind wandering disobediently under the stress.
"May I help you?" The voice was cool and clear, patiently awaiting a response.
"Um, my best friend passed out in class earlier, Toushirou Hitsugaya? I was hoping to take his homework and stuff home for him. Is that all right, do you think?" The nervousness in her voice was appropriate, she hoped, considering she was supposed to be worried about her friend. And she was.
The lady looked at her kindly, sympathy in her eyes. "I think that should be fine, dear. Will you be going home with him then?"
"Well, actually, I was hoping to get there first and set up some things to make him more comfortable. You know, since his parents can't get off work to take care of him." This was a bit of a fib, since she'd never actually met Toushirou's parents. "Only, they just moved recently and I can't remember the address. Do," she licked her lips distractedly, "do you think you could give it to me?"
The lady frowned, obvious sympathy for Momo's plight warring across her face with the rules. "I'm not really supposed to give out students' addresses, sweetie. Maybe you could call his parents?" Her voice turned a bit hopeful at the end.
Hopes beginning to plummet, Momo's thoughts raced desperately for a way to lie convincingly to the kind receptionist. "They're"—Momo's voice dropped to such a low whisper, it was difficult to even hear, especially with the emotion clogging through every word—"they're not allowed to take personal calls at work. They wouldn't be able to get back to me. Please, I know you're not really supposed to, but I'm really worried about him and I'd feel so much better if I could just get his things home for him to make him more comfortable. Someone needs to look out for him and, well, it's always been me." Momo's voice was pleading, adorable brown eyes latching firmly and tearily to the blue eyes of the receptionist.
The lady puckered her lips, disappointed at the apparent lack of a solution. "Oh, I don't know," she said, uncomfortably looking back at Momo. "I'd love to help you, sweetie, but I just don't think—" She cut herself off at the dejected expression on Momo's face. "Look, there's really no one you can ask?"
Momo shook her head, looking positively miserable.
Glancing around quickly to insure that no one was nearby, the lady leaned forward slightly. "All right, just this once, okay? What's your name, dear?"
"Momo." Momo brightened up considerably. "Momo Hinamori."
She scribbled the name on a note before turning to a nearby filing cabinet. "And you were looking for Hitsugaya's address?"
"Yes, yes, please. Thank you so much!"
The lady quickly flipped through the various folders before reaching the one she was looking for. Snatching a post-it note off of her desk, she hastily wrote down the address and handed it to Momo.
"Thank you, thank you so much!" Without even really thinking it through, Momo raced off down the hallway, jubilant triumph bringing an unexpected spring to her step.
She had done it!
Now all she had to do was get there and figure out what the heck was going on.
Looking around, Hinamori rather quickly determined that even though she was absolutely certain she was in Karakura, she actually had no idea where in Karakura she was. After all, it tended to be a rather large city and she wasn't that familiar with it.
What was she doing here?
Her heartbeat quickened in unexpected anticipation. Was Aizen here?
Had he somehow interrupted the kidou and brought her here?
She hoped fervently that that was the case.
She scowled at her reflection in a passing window. No, she didn't. She never wanted to see that stupid konpaku's face again.
But what if he wasn't a traitor? her mind whispered delectably.
"Shut up, I'm trying to save Toushirou-kun, here," she muttered to her disobedient mind.
Actually, that made an odd kind of sense. If he was here, then maybe she was supposed to save him? Though how she was supposed to save him and from what, she had no idea. Even more distracting, how would she find him?
She continued walking, moving into a neighborhood district now. Large houses graced either side of the lane, made of all sorts of materials and all of them with beautiful gardens. Hinamori didn't look at any of them, staring at the concrete sidewalk instead. There was simply too much to look at and she really couldn't stand it. After all the weeks of white, all the bright colors blinded her. They swirled and swirled in front of her eyes until she couldn't discern up from down and she had to squeeze her eyes shut to block them out.
She kept walking.
When Hitsugaya woke next, everything was a bit fuzzier than he remembered. He had trouble remembering anything that had happened prior to the apparent nap he'd spontaneously taken. He opened his eyes carefully, prepared for the dizziness that would have knocked him over had he even been sitting up. His vision swam dangerously as the nausea had him gagging. Voices murmured, rising and falling in the background, but he couldn't quite make them out yet. Someone moved him onto his side which caused pain to shoot up his side and stars to explode in front of his eyes. He threw up over the side of the bed as a coolly feminine voice whispered into his ear, "It's all right to close your eyes. It helps block out the dizziness."
He ignored it, knowing better from long experience that it only increased the loss of equilibrium.
It took several minutes for his vision to settle down enough that he could make out the room. It was mostly white, though the walls were plastered with mini-posters explaining the consequences of smoking and possible STDs. He was in the nurse's office?
His mind shut down as the implications of that statement flooded over him.
The scene replayed itself over in his mind, Hinamori slapping him and his ignominious fall.
That innate sense of dread that always warned him when something terrible was about to happen was already trickling dangerously down his spine. What had she deduced in these instants he'd been unconscious?
Speaking of which, how long had he been unconscious? He had a feeling that that particular number would be terribly critical for the progress of the next few hours. He was sure his skin must be icy cold with fear by now, except that he had trouble feeling anything through the haze of pain and anxiety.
"What time is it?" he croaked into the void, as he realized that there were people in the office that were staring at him.
There was a frozen moment of absolute stillness amongst the four of five people standing there before they all simultaneously burst into flurried movements, many beginning to talk at once.
"Toushirou-san, are you all right?"
"Hitsugaya-kun—"
"What happened?"
"Toushirou-kun—"
Hitsugaya groaned, letting his eyelids shut once more. It took far too much effort to keep them open to waste it on those idiots.
"Be quiet!" Unohana shouted authoritatively.
Silently, Hitsugaya thanked the school nurse for the abrupt halt of voices. "Toushirou-san, how are you?"
Slowly, he allowed his eyes to open again, peering at the speaker. "Please," he croaked out. "How long have I been unconscious?"
She was staring at him, eyes communicating her confusion at his high value on the question. "It's been about twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Why?"
Hitsugaya could feel twin rivers of icy cold flooding his spine and for a moment, he was too lost in the sensation to think. Two different sources of bitter frost, one making it difficult to breathe through the panic and the other feeling so terribly, terribly familiar yet distant. Despite it's confusingly paradoxical nature, it also made feel stronger, rushing along his veins as if new muscle, new strength.
Determination settled into his very blood stream and slowly, slowly, he sat up.
"Where is Hinamori?"
The house was white, which seemed fairly strange to Momo. Toushirou-kun needed more color than that, given that his hair was also so white. Also, his hair color tended to cause him not to choose something white if he had the option. She wondered why he had moved from his perfectly good apartment to this stark house. Shaking her shoulders, she knew it must be related to the strange events driving him away from her. She steeled her posture in determination and strode forward down the carefully swept driveway. The yard had no garden, but the grass was immaculately mowed and edged to fit the curving sidewalk.
Instead of approaching the front door, potentially dangerous, Momo decided to circle around the back and see what she could uncover. Most of all, she knew she didn't want to get caught. Though she really didn't know who would catch her, she was pretty sure nothing good could come of it, considering she was sneaking around a neighborhood she didn't live in. The backyard was huge, covered in the same perfectly green grass as the front lawn. There was a pristine white shed in the far left corner and an entirely separate garage to the right. She slipped onto the porch, tiptoeing carefully towards the back door.
Other than the eerily perfect organization of everything, there was nothing particularly intimidating about the house. No hints, no clues as to the why of Toushirou's strange behavior.
She would have to go inside the house. Momo hesitated, unwilling to break the law to enter another person's home. Still, she needed to know the truth so that she could help her best friend. She crept closer to the back door, feet creaking slightly on the wooden slats. The windows in the back door were dark, probably an effect of the bright sunshine glaring on the glass. Her palms perspired and her hands shook slightly as she got closer and closer.
Only a couple more feet, she thought desperately.
She could almost see inside. She quelled the sudden urge to turn and bolt, determinedly moving forward.
Right as her hand moved to grasp the doorknob, the door itself cracked open, a thin white hand snatching Momo's wrist and dragging the girl quickly into the house before slamming the door shut on the perfect afternoon.
Hinamori was still idly wandering sidewalks through the overly nice neighborhood. She still had yet to see a single soul, but that might have been because she still kept her gaze glued to the cement sidewalk at all times.
She was quite certain it was more dangerous this way (not to mention more likely that she would miss something important), but what did that matter to a konpaku? Especially to a shinigami fukutaichou?
And so she was still staring at the ground when she heard someone call out her name.
"Hinamori? Is that you?" The voice was shocked, incredulous even. But, more than that, it sounded familiar.
She jerked her head up in an automatic reflex, eyes seeking out the face to match the voice. Straight ahead, at the end of the block, stood Toushirou, albeit an injured one, green eyes wide and staring.
She noted without particularly paying attention that his wounds were all wrong. He hadn't had any back wounds when she had seen him on the bed, yet he did now. Actually, none of them seemed to match up. She frowned slightly and approached him slowly.
Strange.
He wasn't in any gigai.
So why was he human?
