Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.
Author natterings: They're in a relationship or they're not, whichever you prefer. Though I hope you do think they are with the first drabble. Heh.
Request status: open. Whether it's a single word or a full blown scenario, I welcome all challenges. I'm up-to-date with the Bleach manga, so anything as far as that I'd be great with. However, this also means that I do not know anything about the Bount arc, which is exclusive to the anime.
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16. LOOKS LIKE, SMELLS LIKE, TASTES LIKE, MUST BE
"So, how was it?" he asked her once she had entered the office.
She crashed into him on the couch. "Terrible. I sweat so much."
He took a delicate sniff of the air around them for theatrical purposes. "It's true. You smell."
She hit his arm. Hard.
"... Nice. You smell nice."
She made a face, then admitted, "Yeah, I know I stink. I'm surprised you're not pinching your nose."
He shrugged. "So you smell. You're still you, right?" He raised his eyebrows at her growing smile.
"That," she said, "is why I love you." She kissed him full on the lips. She tasted nice at least, she knew that. Just when he began to suck the slightest bit on her bottom lip, she broke the kiss.
Then she stuck her armpit in his face.
"AUGH!"
She laughed. Hard.
"Matsumoto! Take a shower!"
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17. ONE IN A MILLION
What am I doing here?
This wasn't right for her to be in the material world for nearly nothing. She was a lieutenant - she shouldn't have been sent gallivanting off to do this. What if Kurosaki-taichou needed her? Ugh. All the more reason to finish quickly.
Haineko sliced cleanly through the last bottomfeeder hollow, its form dissolving into thin air. She had been at this for fourteen hours, and no trace of the the true target hollow - Cubana. Its skill was unusual from what little information had had to say, and after numerous failed attempts by squads to eliminate it, she had been sent. The situation was, sadly, within the tenth's jurisdiction. She wasn't rattled in least by the bad track record. She was getting antsy, however. Apparently, Cubana's mask was not immediately visible, the only major obstacle in killing it. She already knew how she'd kill it though. She'd had fourteen hours to plan, after all...
Deciding to take the high ground, she leapt up. Her intended lookout spot was above the high school, where many teenagers were spilling out the doors. According to intelligence, Cubana attacked large groups of people, so it made sense to station herself here.
Just when she was about to sit, she sensed a reiatsu on the edge of the schoolyard. It didn't have the mark of a hollow, but it was large enough that she should invesitgate. She wasn't about to perform a shoddy job here, even if she thought it was inappropriately handed down to her. If she could help it, Isshin's repuatation would not suffer because of her.
Upon her arrival at the edge of the courtyard, she found a plus. She knew it seemed unlikely, but she had to believe her eyes.
A young boy, no more than six, was gripping the chainlinks of the fence. He looked out on the soccer game with sharp, intelligent eyes, out of place on such a young face. His spirit energy was frightening for so young a child not even living in Soul Society.
She realized the danger in having him stay. How much longer before his monstrous energy drew out Cubana? She had to send him on. She allowed herself a premonition: he might even become someone legendary...
"Excuse me?" Matsumoto approached him, from the side. She didn't want to spook a child.
"Yes?" the boy said in a falsetto. She'd forgotten how young children were. She didn't deal with young people very much.
"Are you lost?" she tried to ease her way into his comfort zone.
"I'm dead," the boy said.
She sucked in air sharply. Oh. So he knew.
The boy turned away from the game to her, lowering his arms. "You're dead too?"
Matsumoto nodded, and bent down on her knees, still keeping her senses alert for Cubana. "I am. There's a place with many others. Do you want to see where I--"
No chance to finish her sentence. She jumped up and twisted midair, the boy in the grip of her left arm. They had just dodged an explosion from the ground beneath the sidewalk.
"Shinigami," the hollow said, imperviously, arrogantly. Pebbles fell from its back. No apparent mask - the face was hidden.
"Hollow," she responded in kind.
"Shinigami?" the boy asked, hanging from her arm. She couldn't send him on now, not with Cubana right in front of them. And it was without doubt that the hollow had been lured by the boy's massive spiritual energy.
Cubana struck, not the type for introductions. All the better. She wasn't the type for bullshitting around either. She put the boy down behind her. She unsheathed her zapakutou and called out. "Unare! Haineko!"
The glinting metal of her sword disappeared, ash falling to the ground beneath them.
The boy's eyes widened from his vantage point.
"Oh, shinigami. Interesting skill you have," Cubana remarked. Then he lashed out with a long arm. "But I have tricks too!"
"Bakudou number four! Hainawa!" she called out quickly, her hands only fast enough for a low level spell. But it should be enough. She only needed to manipulate Haineko a bit more...
The energy rope whipped out to meet the hollow's arm, and wrapped quickly around it. But then the hollow's arm collapsed, and the rope fell, rendered useless. What! Cubana's arm was...
"My arm is collapsible, and easily reassembled," Cubana was laughing. "As is the rest of my body!" As soon as the sentence was done, his arm was back. He struck again, his arm clearly reaching for the boy behind her...
Matsumoto grit her teeth. No wonder so many had trouble. It was impossible to cut through such a hollow to find the mask!
"Duck!" she ordered, forcing the boy's body down with her own. Cubana's arm whizzed over their heads. The arm doubled back, fingers stretched out, when--
Cubana's terrible cry pierced the air. As his body began to dissolve, Haineko appeared in the middle of it all, where the mask was housed. It was split perfectly in half, from the forehead to the chin. Matsumoto had reassembled her sword in the perfect place, right on time. Mission accomplished.
Haineko returned to its hilt, and she sheathed her zanpakutou. She got up off the floor, then offered a hand to the boy. He took it. She lifted him easily.
"What- what was that?" he asked.
"A hollow," Matsumoto explained. "They attack spirits like you."
"Your job is to protect spirits?" the boy asked, brows drawn low.
"Yes. That is a shinigami's job," she confirmed. Then she bent down to meet the boy eye-to-eye. "I have another job. Do you want to know what it is?"
"Sure," the boy chirped, shrugging like he couldn't care less. But she could see his interest. What a cute kid.
"I send spirits to Soul Society."
The boy's expression was confused. He squinted, clearly cross that he didn't understand. "What's that?"
"A place for spirits to live," she answered. She pointed to herself. "I live there, too."
"So... you're taking me with you?" he asked, stubbing a toe in the dirt, feigning nonchalance. She saw that spark in his eyes though. What a cute kid.
She rested a hand fondly on his head. "Not exactly. I have a different destination in Soul Society. But I will send you there. How 'bout it?" She tilted her head, smiling.
The boy seemed to deflate the tiniest bit, but he conceded, "O-okay."
She drew out Haineko, holding her zanpakutou by the sheath to reveal the stamp at the end of the hilt.
"Wait," the boy said, halting her by grabbing her hand. His fingers were so small, spread over her own.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I'll see you later, shinigami-san," the boy said, and there was so much conviction in his face that it was heart-wrenching in the strangest way. What were the chances that they would meet again? One in a million.
But she made herself smile. "Of course," she promised. Then she lifted her zanpakutou to his forehead, and gently pressed the end of Haineko's hilt to his skin.
He blinked, surprised. She stood.
"I'll see you," she said to him. He nodded once, then faded.
A hell butterfly came to her then, and she unlocked the senkaimon and stepped through. She heaved a sigh. All in a day's work. She got one last look out at the material world, to the sidewalk where she had crouched with the boy. Maybe, she thought, before the doors closed.
Centuries later, Matsumoto would slide her eyes toward her Hitsugaya-taichou and wonder back on that day. Could he have been her one in a million?
