B A Y O – B A Y O :
Hey guys! Sorry for the long(er) wait, but this chapter was special—I had to get everything perfect. I still don't think it's perfect, but I think your guys' growing impatience (and the 25 reviews, which I absolutely LOVED, by the way) caused me to post this earlier. You wanna know what makes this chapter so important? It's not only a time of bonding for our two favorite people, but also…
That's right, it's written in HITSUGAYA'S POINT OF VIEW. Oh my, this world is going to crash and burn. DD: It was really hard, but I think this was the most enjoyable of all chapters I've ever written. Writing in Toushirou's view helps me to think more about him and not only how he talks, but how he thinks. In a way, not only Megumi and Toushirou have bonded, but so did me and him, with him helping to write as a better Hitsugaya. I hope you guys enjoy it; I'm aware that I probably made some parts of him a little OOC, but please look past that and see the scene that's going on!
Thank you, once again, for all of your patience and many loved reviews. I appreciate them so, so much. They help me love this story and keep writing and writing—faster than I'd imagined!
. F U R A R E T A .
… "reborn"… a bleach fanfiction
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Furareta © b a y o – b a y o
Bleach © Kubo Tite
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CHAPTER T E N :
"Through Teal Green Eyes"
( HITSUGAYA TOUSHIROU. )
"Matsumoto, will you keep it down?!"
The obnoxious, inharmonic racket continued from the shower. I felt my eye twitch in annoyance. Even at my loudest, she still couldn't hear me. Typical vice-captain. With an aggravated sigh, I attempted to tune her out with as much patience as I could (which wasn't much, especially if you had to live with Matsumoto Rangiku for extended periods of time) while I occupied myself in the morning newspaper. Because of that dumb bother of a human, I had to keep tabs on Takara Gina; if I kept this up, maybe an article will arrive announcing the discovery of her body. Maybe then Nagasuki will quit her constant nagging.
At even the thought of her, my brows furrowed in irritation. She was honestly too optimistic for her own good.
"Or perhaps that's just how she is," I murmured aloud as I skimmed for the particular article. I had studied the last two papers over just in case the ditzy girl had skipped over something in her panic, but I came up with nothing. I was ninety-nine percent sure that Nagasuki would bug me about the missing girl again, and that was part of the reason I had decided to conveniently disappear today. School wasn't important to me, anyway; I had gone to enough of it already because of past missions. Missing today wouldn't be a bother.
It was kind of quiet without her, though; and even more so with Matsumoto at college.
Not that I missed the infernal nuisances, of course. Today was probably one of the more peaceful days that I've had in a long time. That is, before my vice-captain came home. Now it was just as noisy especially as an unpleasant tune, the poorest excuse for a melody, seeped from the bathroom. Attaining concentration was futile in a setting such as this. I was just barely one thread away from totally losing it, but thankfully years of self-control had taught me to endure this annoying rattle that she was performing until she had finished her hour-and-a-half-long shower.
Honestly, why do women need to take such unnecessarily long showers?
With growing impatience I returned to my previous work, which currently concerned getting whatever information I could about this vanished girl. Why did I even bother? Knowing situations like these, she would be dead in a dark alley, in the belly of a Hollow, or, at best, suffering in the hands of the Bounto. Nagasuki was bent on her miraculous survival of whatever happened to her, but I believe that we both knew what the most likely outcome would be. Yet she still looked to the bright side of things, not even contemplating the dark—how could she? Life was no joy ride; not everything comes out the way you want them to. Her persistence, her genuine concern, her optimistic view of life—it reminded me much, too much, perhaps, of Hinamori.
My eyes narrowed considerably. Hinamori was just like that—cheerful, optimistic, selfless—and look at what happened to her when things took a turn for the worst.
Thunder flashed somewhere near the neighborhood, bringing me back to the article. I couldn't begin thinking of that girl now, not when I had a mission to accomplish. Nagasuki had nothing to do with it. My mind had already decided that I was not investigating this disappearance for her, but for me. This could very well lead to the whereabouts, or the plot, of the Bounto. Despite that girl's absent-mindedness, she had a small talent of connecting the ends of two seemingly different stories and making them one. Curiosity often did that for the earnest, and Nagasuki did possess a lot of it.
I perused the article for any information on Takara's whereabouts. I honestly expected to come out empty, like I did with the past two; but instead, the paragraph stretched longer. Sightings of a mysterious, pale girl matching the description of Takara Gina was witnessed by various passer-bys at night. Ignoring calls of her name, retreating from those who confronted her—I knew what that meant. She was dead and connected to this world, no doubt lost and looking for her mother.
Did Nagasuki read this already? … That was a stupid question. What did she do when she read this? Ironic how I decided to be absent on a day when a scoop decided to drop in. Knowing her and her ardent personality, she would be going insane from not being able to tell any other Shinigami about her findings and views; and she would probably put those views and curiosities in action and actually wait for Takara tonight. I nearly scoffed the idea; Takara probably won't respond to anyone but her mother. And though Nagasuki wasn't the sharpest, I doubt she was stupid enough to wait out in a thunderstorm for her ghost.
Nonetheless, this was an alluring piece of news. I would have to find Takara myself tonight and send her to Soul Society.
I folded the newspaper and dropped it on the table. Finally I had a reason to leave the house. Leaving this noisy building will probably do me some good, even if I was about to enter into a thunderstorm. "Matsumoto, I'm leaving for a little while," I said, not really caring to raise my voice. She couldn't hear me anyway, even if she bothered to try. My hand reached into my pant pockets (these human clothes were too clingy—how did human boys stand wearing these every single day?) and I pulled out a Soul Candy dispenser. Dispensing the little green ball into my palm, I opened my mouth to pop it in—before I was interrupted.
It was quiet, but I could pick up soft knocking at the front door. There were three small, timid raps. "Who could be wandering around in this weather?" I sighed, stuffing both of my equipment into my pocket as I trudged to the door. Half-expecting a stupid salesman, I pulled open the door with an irritated look on my face. My eyes widened at my visitor.
It wasn't a salesman.
Nagasuki stood there, soaking wet and shivering to the bone, on my porch. Her head was bent down, staring at the ground; and, despite her intense shaking, she didn't make any move to warm herself. After the surprise washed away, my eyes narrowed considerably—apparently, she was stupid enough to wander around in a thunderstorm, no doubt looking for Takara's spirit. Judging by her countenance, she didn't find her, either. "Nagasuki, what in the world are you doing outside in this wea—"
She attacked me.
It took me by surprise. One second she was standing there silently, looking completely miserable; and one split moment later, her body had jolted forward and crashed into me. The sudden contact stunned me, and I stood there, unblinking, for the next minute or so. My hands had reacted reflexively by grabbing onto her shoulders as she hid her face in my shoulder. I half-wondered if she had fainted. My eyes wandered to the crown of her soaking wet storm cloud-colored hair, and it was then I realized that she was shaking violently—but not from the cold.
"Hitsugaya-san," I heard her say my name, barely above a whisper, into my now drenched shirt. "She's gone, I couldn't help her… all my fault…"
My body tensed. Nagasuki didn't attack me—she was clinging to me. And she was crying.
It took a moment for me to find my voice. "Nagasuki, what…"
"I'm sorry I'm bothering you again," she choked on her tears and she gripped a fistful of my shirt, "but… I didn't know where else to…"
Matsumoto once told me about situations like these. 'If a girl ever happens to start crying on you,' she told me, 'be very gentle. Women are very sensitive in times like those. Choose your words carefully, and don't be demanding; let her cry on you, and she'll tell you her story.' She told me that when Hinamori had done the same thing to me when Aizen had rejected a date with her. Nagasuki's quiet weeping met my ears. Matsumoto could say that, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do now. How was I supposed to comfort her when I knew nothing about her? How was I supposed to know the rights things to say?
Thunder crashed outside again. The first thing I had to do was get her inside where it was warm. She was as cold as winter—it was almost as if I had gone bankai and I was cloaked in Hyourinmaru's ice. But how was I going to bring her in? Drag her? Carry her? Lead her?
"Can… can I come in?" I heard her ask.
Well, that was simple.
"Y-Yeah," I responded. When she slowly pulled away and waltzed past me, I stood there for a moment, staring at the dreary scenery outside. This is going to be interesting, I thought wearily to myself as I shut the door. Nagasuki stood a few feet away from me when I turned. I bit back a small, surprised gasp when I saw her face for the first time. Her skin had always been so pale, but when I stared at her tear-stained face, mixed in with the rain, I would've mistaken her for a ghost if I didn't know better. Blue lips quivered as she concentrated on forcing back tears, and her wide blue eyes—stricken with misery, trauma, and terror—stared at me, at a loss for words. Those were probably what had affected me the most. In her trembling hands she clutched an envelope that she held close to her, as if it were her very life.
'Choose your words carefully.'
What words did Matsumoto consider 'careful'? I followed my gut instinct.
"You met Takara, didn't you?"
We stood there for what seemed like hours, staring at each other as we searched for the right words to say. I saw something glint in her eyes and suddenly tears sprouted again. I guess those weren't careful enough, I thought. Or it could be that Nagasuki was just over-sensitive.
For the first time in centuries, I, Hitsugaya Toushirou, the captain of Division 10 of Gotei 13, was failing in something. I've never felt so stupid in my entire life.
Her soft hiccups brought me back to her. "I… I saw her on—on my way home," she said, wiping furiously away her tears with her fists. "Y-You were right, Hitsugaya-san… she—she's dead. When she told me, I… I wanted to bring her to you, but—but she said… she said she was being tracked."
My eyes hardened slightly. Tracked? Did she really have a relation to the Bounto?
"They kidnapped her because they thought she was me," she continued. "They were… they were coming back for her, and she didn't want them to catch me t-too, so she… she gave me this letter to give to her mom, and then…"
I knew where this led. "She acted as bait so you could run," I finished for her. Her small head bobbed as a nod, and once again she stared up at me. She may be annoying, talkative, and naïve naturally, but, like I did when I saw the tears of any others', my eyes softened considerably. I always hated seeing tears.
"I… I'm a coward," she whimpered, casting her gaze down.
I pondered what to do next. Things had gone out of order in Matsumoto's steps—Nagasuki told me her story first-hand. What was I supposed to do now? Matsumoto was still in the shower, although her singing had died down. Thank God. Once again, I followed my gut by taking one small, cautious step towards her. She didn't react. The closer I got to her, the more I noticed the thousands of goose bumps lining her small body; I had to get her changed into something warm before she caught hypothermia. My arm reached out, and I gently grabbed her hand. I almost flinched—she was getting colder.
"What are you…?" I heard her curious tone as I lead her down the hallway. We got to my temporary bedroom and I sat her on my large bed while I wandered to my dresser. The last time we were in here, I was going to erase her memories; and now I was attempting to comfort her because I let her keep them. Maybe it was a better idea if I had ignored her pleas…
"Change into these," I instructed her, throwing one of my t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants to her. I exited the room for a brief moment and came back, adding a towel and a blanket to her accessories. Nagasuki stared at them for a moment, and then turned to me. I could see surprise evident in her face. I was surprised at myself, as well—I had absolutely no experience at these kinds of things. With a small flush, I turned away. "You'll freeze if you stay in those clothes."
To give her privacy, I quietly slipped out of the room and closed the door behind me. My body leaned against the wall next to it, and I lightly hit the back of my head against it. Her tear-stained face, the shaking of her tiny body, her extensive sensitivity—would she always be like this when she's involved in an event where a Hollow attacks, or when spirits she knows are forcefully pulled away from her? If so, she definitely won't be stable for the next couple of months. Why didn't I erase her memories while she was still in that state of mind? I'm sure she wouldn't even resist.
'Promise you won't erase anything!'
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Troublesome girl," I murmured beneath my breath.
The rustle of clothes ceased, bringing me back to the scene at hand. Lifting my fist, I rapped on the door to make sure she was done. When no one answered, I took that as a silent 'come in' and I re-entered. A pile of Nagasuki's soaking clothes were in a pile in the corner, while she stood in a statue-like stance in front of the window. She looked incredibly small in my bigger clothes, and she was hugging the blanket closely around herself.
"It's my fault, isn't it, Hitsugaya-san?" she asked quietly.
I remained silent as I stood by her. All this time, ever since she had decided to show up on my porch, I had been careful about what I said. Matsumoto assured me that girls didn't appreciate harsh words when they were emotionally unstable, but, seeing Nagasuki as she is now, I realized something: she didn't need comfort. She just needed someone to talk to—which, in a way, would probably classify as a comfort in itself. No cold words were needed, no sentimental exchange; Nagasuki wasn't that kind of person, anyway. She was probably expecting me to just talk.
And talk I did.
"What could you have done if you stayed, Nagasuki?" I shot a question back at her.
"I… I don't know. But I'm sure I could've done something," she responded, her gaze blankly fixed on the dreary weather outside. "I could've at least tried to fight it or someth—"
"Nagasuki, you wouldn't last a nanosecond against a Hollow," I interrupted her. She stiffened, and finally her eyes switched from the window to me. "You couldn't have done anything but run. If you stayed, Takara's sacrifice would have been in vain, and both of you would be lost right now. What good would that have done?"
"Hitsugaya-san…"
"You were smart to run while you could."
When I finally looked at her, I thought she was going to faint again. Her big eyes were staring at me, contemplating my words; and after they registered, a small, grateful smile curled onto her face. It was like the paleness in her face instantly lit up. She stood there, grinning at me like an idiot—when suddenly tears began trailing down her cheeks again. My eyes widened. Smiling and crying—what else was this girl capable of?
"Thank you, Hitsugaya-san…" she whimpered, wiping at her tears. "That cheered me up."
I arched a brow at her. "Then why are you crying?"
"These are tears of joy!"
A faint smirk curled onto my lips and I turned away. "Well, at least you're acting like yourself again…"
"You're such a good friend!" she exclaimed quietly, and, not lagging shortly afterwards, her thin arms latched around my torso in an awkward embrace.
Again, I froze. Contact like this was not normal for me. Usually people were wary around me and wouldn't dare to touch me—but Nagasuki, apparently, was immune to my natural intimidation. Words quickly came to me as seconds passed by. "Hey, what're you doing?!" I responded, trying to pry her off.
"Friends hug each other when they're happy," Nagasuki cheekily said, looking up at me with a small tinge of pink coloring her once pale cheeks. I blinked. Was she blushing? She hid her face in my shoulder before I could confirm it. "At least I do, anyway."
She was like a snake coiled around its prey—only definitely not as deadly. I doubt it would take much to make her let go of me. Sighing in defeat, I let her hang there; if I forcefully got out of her grip, she might go crying on me again. Honestly, girls were an enigma… It was a good thing Matsumoto's never like this. Nagasuki was so strange.
"You never cease to surprise me, Hitsugaya-san," she murmured. "One moment you're a cold, anti-social jerk, and the next, you're like one of the sweetest guys in the world! Are all Shinigami like this?"
"I draw the line at the 'jerk' and 'sweetest guy in the world' part," I sighed, finally deciding to release her hold on me. She seemed fine enough. I gently grabbed a hold of her arms and freed myself. "Are you okay now? You're not still bothered about Takara?"
Nagasuki didn't fight when I grabbed her, but she turned and went to plop onto my bed. Her arms were sprawled to her sides and she stared at the ceiling as she responded, "Yeah, I am, a little bit. I feel bad about leaving her still, but you're right—I couldn't have done anything if I didn't. But…" She paused. "But the reason she was kidnapped in the first place was because of me, and I can't pass the blame there."
"Nagasuki…" I started again, sighing.
"Don't worry, I've got it all figured out," she said. "I'll rescue her. And if I can't rescue her, I'll avenge her. It's the least I could do for all the trouble I've caused her…"
She was so persistent. With an unbelieving frown I stood in front of her, looking down at her. "And how do you expect to do that without getting yourself killed?" I inquired with an arched brow.
"Don't know yet." She sat up and returned my gaze. "But as long as I have you with me, it'll work out, right?"
We held each others' eyes for a few seconds before I broke it and looked the other way. "You're depending on me too much," I stated, crossing my arms. "That's what's dangerous about you keeping your memories of me, Nagasuki; if you keep relying on me, you're bound to be disappointed."
"I doubt it."
"Why is that?"
"Because we're friends, silly," she insisted, giving me that same signature grin of hers. "You're already doing a good job at being a friend in the early stages of our companionship, so how could you disappoint me in the later stages? You're a prodigy, right? So of course you're going to uphold your duties as a Shinigami, protector, and friend without fail."
"Now you're just flattering me."
"Is it working?"
"You're an idiot."
She grinned wider. "I'll take that as a yes."
Thunder flashed outside again, bringing both of our attentions back to the window as it flashed brilliantly. "It doesn't look like that's going to let up soon," I observed, hearing the pounding of raindrops on the roof. It sounded like a tornado out there with turbulent winds and the sound of heavy objects being knocked over.
"Yeah…" Nagasuki agreed quietly. "Hey, where's Rangiku?"
"In the shower," I sighed, irritated again at the thought of my lazy vice-captain. "She's been in there for about half an hour, so she's coming out in an hour or so."
"Holy cow," she murmured, staring at me incredulously. "She takes that long?! I only take half an hour, at the most…"
The storm was getting worse outside. The lights flashed on and off. I heard Nagasuki shift on the bed. "I guess I'll go home then," she said, standing up.
"You're honestly going to walk home in this weather?"
"I'll make it somehow," was her response, shrugging. "What else am I supposed to do?"
I stared at her as if she were stupid. I'll admit, I may not be the nicest-looking guy around, but I wasn't heartless enough to send a girl out into a raging thunderstorm when she didn't have to—especially someone like Nagasuki. She was a magnet for destruction. If she was to be wandering outside by herself, she'd either get lost, get attacked again, or get even sicker than she probably was going to be tomorrow. I didn't want to deal with two loud women tonight, but I guess I had no choice. "You can stay here tonight," I sighed, crossing my arms. "There's no way you could go out into a thunderstorm like that without fatally injuring yourself somehow. Haven't you had enough risks today?"
"But I don't want to impose on you and Rangiku," she retorted.
"You can just go home in the morning," I rolled my shoulders, walking across the room to shut the curtains. "I'll have Matsumoto call your family and tell them you're staying. You've already ran enough in that downpour as it is—I'm surprised you're still healthy."
"But…"
"Don't make me repeat myself, Nagasuki."
She glared at me, before finally giving in and falling back onto my bed. "Fine, fine, if you insist. I want your bed, though."
"What? Why?"
"It's comfy," she sighed, wrapping herself tightly under the covers. She pulled the top up to her chin and stared at me from under them. "And it smells like watermelons. Do you like watermelons, Hitsugaya-san? You always smell like them."
My brow arched. Watermelons? How did I smell like watermelons?
Suddenly, my thoughts flashed back to a few days ago.
'Look, look, taichou—I got you some shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. They all smell like watermelons, your favorite!'
My eye twitched. That was why.
Hiding a growing pulse in my temples, I sighed and spun on my heel to head out of the room. "Just don't wreck anything."
"You're the best, Hitsugaya-san."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Oh, um, Hitsugaya-san?"
I paused to look over my shoulder. "What?"
"We're friends now, right?"
"…" I didn't respond immediately. In fact, I didn't respond at all. Were we friends? What classified two people as friends? The fact that I'm letting her sleep over?
I heard her giggle and roll over onto her side. "I'll take that as a yes, too. Well then, it's settled."
I sighed. "Whatever. Is that all?"
"Yeah, thanks."
Strange girl, I thought to myself as I branched to walk back out.
"Good night, Toushirou."
I froze again.
"… Good night."
A/N: I hope you guys liked it. I honestly do. I probably won't do this again until much, much later in the story, but this is just a little example of how I think Toushirou acts in his inner mind. Writing in his point of view was inspired to me by Slothy Girl. :3 Thanks so much!
And, of course, a special, special thanks to all my faithful reviewers who love this story enough to keep reviewing for each chapter! I thank you so, so much.
Meejin, XxFr0sT3dSn0wF1ak35xX, Slothy Girl, Aoi no Kaze, demogirl193, Kuro-Myou-13, ai-bleach, Feather's Shadow, ROGMethos, Naruto-Lover227, Kana 090, Seven Black Roses, Lillix Vail, English-X-Rose, ChibiChibiLove, rockleefan, Courtmaster Rin, erina, MoonStarBeam, annabell10, TheKingJingles, Uchiha Sasha, joster13, moogle in paradaisu, Akiko Rivers, THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU ALL! And a welcoming 'hello' to my newest reviewers Kuro-Myou-13, annabell10, Uchiha Sasha, moogle in paradaisu, and Akikiko Rivers!
Oh, and if no one caught on, the special surprise in this chapter was no doubt the fact that it was written in Hitsugaya's POV. It was a feat, let me tell you, but incredibly fun. Thank you so much, and please keep reading and reviewing! With the Christmas break coming to an end and school coming back, I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I promise I'll do as much as I can—and depending on how much you guys want it! ;3
-- bayo – bayo, signing out!