Chapter Ten: Someplace To Go

Toushirou had a hard time falling asleep. Most of that had to do with the fact that, less than a foot away from him, in his bed, wearing his clothes, was his bride. His very appealing bride, he might add. He'd found her intriguing six years ago, but she'd been little more than a girl then. Now, she was still young, but definitely a woman, with curves he found more enticing than he'd anticipated, what with the way Matsumoto's blatant sexuality always left him cold. But he'd processed all that, come to terms with it in the time between first seeing her again and walking into his room that night. He'd been well in control of his desires. Until she'd offered herself to him. And now she was lying there beside him, barely clothed, obviously willing to consummate their marriage—she'd been expecting it, after all. But he couldn't touch. He reminded himself that her expectations weren't the same as her desires. She didn't want him to touch her, she just thought it was her duty to let him. He wasn't desperate or reprehensible enough to take advantage like that. And if he ever faltered, he would just imagine Ichigo's glare—"You did what to my baby sister?"—and the inevitable ass-kicking that would follow. No, Toushirou wouldn't touch her like that. But it didn't make sleeping next to her any easier.

What did was that Karin was looking a little worse for the wear. Small as he was, his clothes were hanging off of her, and when they settled he thought he could make out a few of her ribs through the fabric. Her cheek bones were more prominent than before, and the dark circles under her eyes were new as well. So far, death hadn't been kind to her. She didn't seem to be taking very good care of herself, but, now it was his turn.

She turned over in her sleep, and her face was inches from his. A few strands of hair fell across her nose and she twitched, slapping at them. Toushirou tucked them behind her ear then kissed the top of her head as she snuggled into his chest. He knew he ought to push her away, turn his back, but he held on to her just the same. She was his to protect. So if she wanted to cuddle, he would cuddle. At least he knew what she did in her sleep was honest, not influenced by others' conceptions of duty and tradition.

He fell asleep stroking her hair.

When Karin woke up, the place was eerily quiet. There was no gong ringing, no yelling, no frantic knocking on her door. She hadn't felt so refreshed since she'd died. Stretching, she sat up and looked around her at the unfamiliar room, noting the dark blue curtains filtering in the light, the simple chest of drawers, nightstand, the western-style bed she was sleeping in. It wasn't much, but a stacks of books on the nightstand and a few picture frames scattered on the dresser kept it from feeling utilitarian. It was a boy's room, that's what it was. She was waking up in a boy's room in a boy's house in a boy's clothes, because she'd married . . . a boy.

Oh, rocket science, Kurosaki, she mocked herself. Obviously she hadn't married a girl. But still, the closest she'd ever been to a boy's room before was her brother's, and he'd always kicked her out immediately. She felt like an interloper, like she was invading her husband's space.

And then reality hit her. She had bigger problems than feeling uncomfortable in her husband's bedroom. She was a wife now, and it was her duty to rise before her husband, to straighten up the house and prepare the morning meal. He'd been next to her when she went to sleep, and he obviously wasn't now. Karin quickly tightened the yukata she was wearing, finger combed her hair, and ran out to the kitchen, an apology already on her lips.

"Sorry I overslept, Hitsugaya-taichou!" she cried, falling to her knees in the doorway to the kitchen.

He was sitting at the table, or at least she thought he was. She could only see his hands and a tuft of white hair; the rest of him was blocked by the newspaper he was holding. He set it down, and she realized he was already dressed for work.

"Good morning," he murmured, taking a sip from his tea cup. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded. "What can I fix you for breakfast?"

"I've already eaten," he replied, standing up and walking toward her, tea cup in hand. "There's rice on the stove, help yourself, and the kettle's still hot."

She knelt there in shock for a moment. In Soul Society, men weren't supposed make breakfast, or cook at all, or do anything to take care of themselves—Chiyo-sama had said. Karin's heart sank as she realized she was failing him already. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Then she processed what was happening and surged to her feet, deftly removing the cup from his hand and refilling it before he had a chance.

"Thank you," he mumbled, giving her a strange look and heading back to the table. "You should eat, you look thin. You're not on some stupid diet, are you? Matsumoto's always saying she's on some diet or another—I think she just won't admit that even she can't stomach her own cooking—but you don't strike me as girly enough for that nonsense."

Karin didn't take the time to wonder if she should be insulted, because she was too busy drooling over the sheer amount of food in front of her. There was rice, yes, but there was also miso soup, natto, nori, pickles, and even some broiled fish! She hadn't seen so much food since Yuzu had cooked for her! It seemed that ever since she'd come to Soul Society—what a great euphemism for dying, she thought—ever since she'd come to Soul Society, she'd been starving. At Miu's, she'd had to scrape by with whatever nuts and berries she could scrape up, and the few meager fish she could catch with her own two hands. And then she'd been imprisoned, and not really fed, and then at the Kuchikis', food had been another form of warfare. Not only had her mentor declared that she was too sturdy, and needed to "fast" to attain the slim, delicate figure befitting a lady, but Chiyo-sama had also used food deprivation as a form of discipline. As a result, Karin hadn't eaten more than the equivalent of a rice ball or two a day for the past month.

She quickly filled her plate, taking care not to take too much—she wouldn't want to appear greedy or become one of those women who needed to diet—and joined Hitsugaya at the table.

Frowning at her, he stood up again. She paused with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth, but he just walked back to the stove, returned, and promptly placed another piece of fish and some more natto on her plate. "I can see already you're going to be trouble."

The words warmed her somehow. Maybe it was the hint of affection in his voice when he said them.

He didn't sit down this time. "Unfortunately," he continued, "I received a butterfly this morning about an urgent problem in the division, so I'll have to go into the office for a little while. I'd hoped to take the next few days off, but taichous don't really get vacations, even for a honeymoon, it seems."

"O-oh."

"Make yourself at home. I'll try to hurry back."

The three feet between them might as well have been a mile. She tamped down the urge to shout something, to shock him, to force them both to acknowledge that they weren't strangers and this awkwardness was new and there was more to them than these roles they'd taken on. She felt like she was moving in slow motion and he was a whirlwind around her, even though he wasn't one to rush about. It was just too much to process.

"No need," she said, finally pulling herself together. "Please don't worry about me; just do what you have to do."

He paused with his hand on the door and repeated, "I'll try to hurry back."

And then she was stuck inside, alone, again. Part of her was relieved, because Toushirou's—Hitsugaya-taichou's—presence reached deep inside her and flicked at the essence of her she'd condensed into that tiny little box. She could be this other person, this wife, with everyone else, but in her heart of hearts, she wanted him to see her. If he forgot about her, who she'd been before, who she really was under this steel-coated facade of passivity and virtue, the girl she used to be might really be gone.

She finished up her meal, washed the dishes, and explored her new prison. Hitsugaya-taichou's house was nice, actually. Very nice. It was all light wood and caramel-colored leather, comfortable and homey and lived in—nothing like the staunch formality of Kuchiki manor. Karin grabbed her tea and curled up on the sofa. If only there was a tv, and noise—lots of noise—and maybe the smell of something cooking in the kitchen, she could close her eyes and pretend she was home.

This is home now, she reminded herself. It wasn't a bad thought, not really. She was rested and well-fed, and so far Hitsugaya-taichou had been nothing but kind. A little gruff, maybe, but that was par for the course with him.

She went back to clean herself up, and it wasn't until she was dripping wet from her bath that she realized she had nothing of her own to wear. She didn't own many things to begin with, but the few clothes she had were still at Kuchiki Manor.

She could put Hitsugaya's yukata back on, but the idea of wearing something she'd slept in kind of grossed her out. Maybe he wouldn't mind if she borrowed something else? So she was standing, draped only in a towel, pawing through her husband's closet when she heard the door slam.

Shit! Was he back already? She panicked and threw herself into the closet, shutting the door.

Not her best plan ever.

"Ka-rin-chan! Where are you?"

Especially considering how, from the sounds of it, the person who had come in was not her husband, but his fukutaichou.

Footsteps came closer, and Karin cracked the door. "Matsumoto?" she hissed, peering out.

"Karin?" the woman replied, stopping short and crouching down to be at her level. "Why are you in the closet?"

"Are you the only one here?"

"Yep, just me! Taichou's going to be longer than he expected, so he sent me over to keep you company. Are you playing a game? Ooh, I want to play! Room in there for one more?"

Karin rolled her eyes and opened the door. "I'm not playing a game, I just don't have anything to wear. I didn't want anyone to see me like this."

"Ah, you were worried Taichou would see you and go into a flurry of lust," she said, nodding like that made perfect sense.

"No!" Karin blushed, then busied herself with finding something to wear. She pulled a green yukata out. "Do you think he would mind if I borrowed this?"

"No, but it'd be way too short! It's a men's kimono, so it's short anyway, and then with how tiny Taichou is . . . don't you have any of your own clothes?"

She shook her head. "I only have two yukata I picked up in the Rukongai, and then a formal kimono the Kuchikis gave me, but they're all still in my bag at Kuchiki Manor. I didn't think to bring them with me yesterday."

"Hmmm," Rangiku mused, tapping her chin, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "We better retrieve them, then. Put that on for now. Looks like you and I are going to pay Stuffed Shirt a little visit!"

The fukutaichou pumped her fist in the air, and Karin knew—even without any experience—that that meant trouble.

"And on the way, you can tell me everything—and I mean everything—about last night. Starting with—How was it?"

Karin shrugged. "It was fine."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You can't expect me to live on that! How was he, Karin?"

"Um, fine. He was—" she tried to think of the best way to describe Hitsugaya the night before. She remembered him averting his eyes while he unwrapped her, refusing to let her sleep on the floor. She smiled. "He was nice."

Matsumoto was talking over her though. "I mean, you couldn't expect him to be very good. He doesn't have a lot of experience, or any, really, as far as I know, and these things have to be learned you know. At the same time . . . " she trailed off, tapping a finger to her chin. "He is a prodigy. And all that intensity, brrrr! Plus, Taichou is pretty hot. If he could just let go of his inhibitions . . . ." She shivered. "Well, that's enough of that! Listen to me carrying on. And you wouldn't know good from bad anyway, would you dear? You don't have any more experience than he does. Last night must've been like the blind leading the blind—"

"Matsumoto-san, what are you talking about?" Karin burst in, interrupting her. "No, never mind, don't answer that, I know what you're thinking, and you're way off base! Hitsugaya-taichou and I didn't do anything like that!"

"Oh, Karin-chan, you don't have to pretend!" the older woman admonished. "Everyone knows what couples do on their wedding nights. Now, don't worry, it will get better, I promise. And if you want me to have some of the guys talk to Taichou—"

"N-no, no, everything's fine!" Karin screeched, waving her hands in the air. "Last night was incredible, Hitsugaya-taichou's a great lover! But I'm really shy about it, so don't say anything to anyone, 'kay?"

"You can count on me!" She wouldn't shut up about it the whole way there.

When they walked up to the gate surrounding Kuchiki Manor, Karin tried to stifle the dread rising up in her throat. Part of her was terrified that Chiyo-sama would find a way to lock her in forever.

It turned out she was locked out.

"NO ADMITTANCE!" the guards yelled at them, crossing their weird pitchfork thingies in front of the gate.

Karin blinked at them, while Matsumoto just sighed and rolled her eyes.

"B-but my stuff is in there," Karin tried to explain, gesturing to the manor. "I'm sure if you would just get one of the Kuchikis, they could clear all this up—"

"We will not disturb the family for such a paltry matter!" the guard on the left snapped. "We have orders to bar admittance to one Matsumoto Rangiku, and anyone accompanying her!"

Karin looked at the fukutaichou, who shrugged and explained. "Stuffed-shirt-taichou came to the Tenth last week to talk to Taichou and didn't even say hello to me! So I called him a prick and he kinda barred me from his estate for a while. Oh, and from the Sixth, too."

Great. "You didn't think to mention this before I came all the way out here wearing this?" Karin hissed, gesturing to the scandalously short yukata she'd put on.

"I . . . forgot?"

"So what do we do now?" Karin asked, following Matsumoto back down the path.

"I guess we forget about getting your stuff, and go buy some new clothes!"

"Matsumoto-san! I can't go to the shops like this!"

"Pshaw! You're the height of fashionable—long legs are all the thing this season!"

"Matsumoto!"

They were out of sight of the gate already.

"Calm down, Karin," Matsumoto muttered, steering her toward the right. "We're just going to sneak in. And then we'll go shopping!"

"Didn't you get caught last time you tried that?"

The redhead blushed. "Well, yes, but only by a family member. And if we run into one of them, we're golden, right? Besides, I didn't have you with me last time, and you managed to sneak into the Seireitei!"

"Yeah, by causing a diversion."

"Oh. I don't think that will work here, there are too many guards. We'll just have to try climbing the fence then."

Karin groaned. Now she was really afraid of getting locked up in Kuchiki Manor—this time in the dungeon.

They creeped along the perimeter, staying out of sight of the guards, until they reached a section that seemed deserted. Karin looked around. "Hey, I know this area," she whispered, recognizing the layout of trees and other vegetation. "We're right outside the family's private garden."

"Score!" Uh-oh, there went another fist pump. "See, I knew you'd come in handy! There shouldn't be any guards around here because stuffed-shirt likes his privacy. This is the place!"

She latched onto the fence and began to climb.

Somehow Karin didn't think it would be quite that easy, but she shrugged and went along with it anyway. Despite her nervousness, this was the most fun she'd had in months!

So they scaled the fence. Karin was almost to the top when Matsumoto swung her leg over, and then disappeared from sight with a squeal.

"Matsumoto! Are you okay?" Karin hissed, torn between going after her and dropping back down to the ground to run for help. The decision was taken away from her when a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her to the other side of the fence, too.

When the stars disappeared from her eyes, she saw six soldiers, dressed in ninja-like clothing that reminded Karin of the Special Forces. And in front of them, was a half-furious, half-amused head of the Kuchiki clan.

"Juubantai fukutaichou Matsumoto Rangiku," he declared in a cold, even voice.

"Rokubantai taichou Kuchiki Byakuya," Matsumoto mocked.

Karin wanted to groan. She just couldn't help but poke the lion, could she?

"Did you think I wouldn't sense your reiatsu as you went slinking around my manor? What do you think you are doing, trying to break in here with this half-dressed ragamuff—" He broke off, giving Karin a double take. "Kurosaki Karin?"

She nodded, unsure if she wanted to giggle or sink through the floor. "Good morning, Kuchiki-sama," she said, giving him a proper bow instead. "Please don't blame Matsumoto-san. She was just trying to help me collect my belongings."

He frowned. "Why didn't you just go to the gate?"

Matsumoto leaned back against the fence, tossing him a cheeky grin. "Oh, we tried. But somebody gave their guards orders not to let me—or anyone with me—into the manor."

Byakuya kept his eyes on Karin, but a vein began to tick in his forehead. "They refused you entry?"

"Yes, Kuchiki-sama."

"I'll speak with them. As I said before, you are always welcome here."

Matsumoto snorted. "Some welcome."

"You, however," he continued, turning to the red head, "are not."

"Aww, Kuchiki-taichou, you sure you don't want to reconsider that?" Matsumoto trilled, flipping her hair and sauntering toward him. "I can make it worth your while."

"Positive," he snapped, eyes narrowing. But was it just Karin, or were his eyes twinkling, too?

Byakuya snapped his fingers, and two of the guards grabbed Matsumoto. "Remove her to the front gate."

"Ooh, boys, not so rough!" she teased, struggling. She winked at Byakuya. "You wouldn't really throw me out, would you?"

"If it weren't for Karin, I would dump you back over the fence."

"Mou, and I thought Taichou was cold!"

"Flirting isn't going to work."

She dropped the act. "Then what do you want?"

He turned his back to her. "An apology is customary."

"You're the one who should apologize!"

He didn't respond.

"Fine, I'm sorry you won't lower yourself enough to speak to a lowly fukutaichou!"

He snapped his fingers again, and the guards started dragging her away.

"You'll be sorry!" she screamed.

"You may return when you are."

Karin watched Matsumoto play up getting carted away, moaning and yelling at the same time she was teasing her captors and playing with their hair. She decided the woman didn't need her help, so she turned to Byakuya instead, who was suppressing a grin.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked him.

"Immensely."

After Karin changed and retrieved her bag, Matsumoto drug her off to the shops.

"You can't only have two things to wear! Besides, you need nightgowns, and hair care products, and . . . and shoes!"

After a few hours, where Matsumoto pulled her from shop to shop, piling stuff into her arms (only a fraction of which she actually bought), Karin worked up the nerve to ask her a question. When she'd woken up in Soul Society, she'd been dressed in traditional, if tattered, clothing. Complete with old-style undergarments, which mostly consisted of a slip of fabric around her hips and . . . nothing else.

"Um, Matsumoto-san?"

"You don't have to be so formal, you know."

Karin didn't respond.

"But what?" the woman continued.

"Is there some place around here that sells," she lowered her voice, "underwear?"

Matsumoto stopped in her tracks, gasping. "Oh, we forgot all about lingerie! Yes, yes, I'll help you pick out something that'll make Taichou drool!"

"No!" Karin hissed, flushing bright red. "Not lingerie! I just want plain, white cotton underwear."

Matsumoto hugged her, mashing her face into the older woman's breasts. "Oh, Karin-chan, it's okay if you want some sexy lingerie for your lover! You don't have to be shy!"

Karin face-palmed. No wonder Hitsugaya was always yelling at his second. She was impossible.

As always, things at the office took longer than he'd anticipated, so it was long past dark by the time Toushirou made it home to his wife. He found her fast asleep, curled up on the sofa with her head in a dozing Matsumoto's lap. The two were surrounded by a mess of takeout cartons and shopping bags.

He couldn't help but smirk. He debated waking the women, but they looked comfortable enough. He'd just covered them with a blanket (a delicate task, because he wanted to cover Matsumoto, too, without suffocating Karin), when he heard a rustle.

"Oh, Taichou," Matsumoto murmured, blinking sleepy eyes at him. "We must have fallen asleep."

"I see that," he whispered back. "Are you going home, or do you want to stay?"

She shrugged. "I don't want to bother Karin-chan but, um," she paused, coloring a little.

"What is it?" He wondered what could possibly make his shameless fukutaichou blush.

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course she did. But he kept the snide comments to himself.

"Here, I'll take her," he said instead, intending to scoop Karin up and put her in his bed.

"No!" Matsumoto hissed. "She's a light sleeper, you'll wake her up! You have to take my spot!"

"But—"

"Just switch places with me! I'll only be gone a second, and she'll never know the difference!"

The women in his life were insane. But he was too tired to have a whisper argument, so he just nodded, and held Karin's head up a little as his fukutaichou slid out of the way and he took her place on the couch. Karin didn't stir.

But then Matsumoto went and slammed the bathroom door, and Karin woke with a start, jolting upright and slamming her forehead into his.

"Ow!" she moaned, rubbing her head and falling back into his lap. "Sorry, I—" she broke off, blinking up at him. "Toushirou?" She looked around. "What—what's going on? What are you doing?"

"I was—Matsumoto—" He sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Just then Matsumoto came out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on her hakama. "Taichou! Were you taking advantage of Karin-chan in my absence? You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she scolded, wagging her finger at him.

Karin glared at him, crossing her arms. "You were what?"

He groaned. It was official. He was never winning an argument again. But there was color on his wife's cheeks and spirit in her voice, so he thought it might just be worth it.

A/N:

Sorry it was such a long time coming. This one was hard to finish for some reason. Anyway, we're now in to married life, and although the angst is still there, it should be tempered by some humor and burgeoning sexual tension. Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, and review, please!