A/N: This has been a very weird week. Every time I sat down to write, something happened and I couldn't concentrate at all. So this chapter is a bit of a filler... yeah... I hope you like it anyway.
Matsumoto wasn't really sure whether this was worth laughing or crying about. The last two days or so had been particularly horrible, at least so much was true. Instead of well-built, plant-devoid roads, they had to draggle themselves through old, abandoned ones (sometimes literally dig their way through jungle-like forests) that were so roundabout that they practically doubled the time they needed to travel the whole distance. All that in order to remain unnoticed. It was because of her, really, her and her royal posterior, as Ichigo so eloquently put it, since the moment her father found out she was gone, there was going to be utter havoc. She could imagine the grand search he was probably already throwing, ferreting out information from every living creature he could put his hands on – starting poor Nanao, of course. The princess smiled to herself, blessing her friend's tenancy of will and nerve. Ise was going to be just fine, of that Matsumoto was positive. Now, as far as her royal posterior was concerned… positiveness fell with a couple of big, fat points.
The first little town they had found – yes, actual civilization! – was a peculiar and unfriendly place where apparently everybody suspected everybody of everything. Strangely enough, no one thought there was something not worth trusting in the tall strawberry-haired lady, clad in explicitly baggy clothes, with neatly tied up hair and a humongous hat (which was probably once bright orange but now resembled something between dusty brown and yellow). No, what those people found dubious and unnerving instead, was Kyouraku's laid-back, all-too-smiley attitude and unusually vivid choice of attire-color. He hadn't really done anything to deserve such treatment, or rather such glances, yet it was quite amusing how he managed to prove them right on the only night they were planning to spend in an actual bed with actual sheets in an actual inn. He went out in search for some provisions and somewhere along the way, he apparently succeeded in getting lost as he mistook a local peasant's house for their inn. The result was instant and the whole group landed in what seemed to be the local police station, Kyouraku charged of housebreaking (which was quite laughable, considering he had only made it through the fence and into the back yard). From the looks of it, the poor guy wasn't going to be able to leave for awhile and as the day stretched on it became obvious that until all the red tape was dealt with, there was no getting out of this place.
"Ichigo," The princess called. The four of them were crammed in a small plain room, the man who had raised the charges currently giving evidence in the room opposite of theirs. "I can't take it anymore. I need to go for a walk or else I'm going to lose my mind in this place!"
The carrot-top shrugged.
"They'll probably let you. It's Kyouraku they're pressing charges against."
All gazes then shifted to the man mentioned, three pairs of brows shooting up at the sight of the brunette, sprawled over the table and with his hat covering his face, soundly asleep.
"He won't miss my moral support, I suppose…" Matsumoto pointed out, her lips curving into a small amused grin as her eyes glided along the other two. "Any of you interested in coming?"
Rukia and Ichigo exchanged inquiring glances, then the boy jumped promptly on his feet, stretching gratefully, a few popping sounds accompanying the movement.
"Now that you mentioned it, I could use just a little bit of…"
"Ichigo." Rukia's cold voice rang and he quickly slumped back in his place.
"I don't need to go anywhere, it's plenty of fun over here." He stated flatly, propping his elbow on his knee and resting his hand on his palm with a weary sigh. The black-haired girl chuckled darkly before standing up and gesturing the princess to follow her.
Their little promenade around the neighborhood didn't last too long. No more than fifteen minutes after they had gone out, a sudden shower of rain poured on their heads, forcing them to run like hell to the nearest building for shelter.
And that building happened to be the library.
Fortunately, the librarian turned out to be a very sweet, hospitable woman who immediately offered them to sit on the sofas in the center of the hall and asked them if they wanted some tea (something which they gladly accepted). They hadn't managed to get too wet but the experience was still unpleasant and it seemed like the rain wasn't about to stop any time soon.
"Well…" Rukia said, sighing wearily as she sipped from he cup of steaming tea. "Looks like we'll be stuck here for awhile, with the books, the tea and the kind lady over there." With that, she nodded towards the little desk near the front door where the old woman sat. Matsumoto followed her gaze thoughtfully, then a small smile spread on her lips and she stood up, placing her own cup down.
"How about we make use of the time and dig some history about this country? I've always been bad at remembering facts, a little reminder couldn't do any harm."
With that she rounded the sofa and disappeared between the sections, fingers tracing the backs of the books as she scanned them quickly. Rukia waited for a few more minutes, finishing her drink and then stood up with unhidden reluctance and set off on a grand search for the princess. She found Matsumoto somewhere in the back, sitting on the ground with a few books scattered messily around her. A thick old novel with rough yellowed pages was laying opened in her lap as her slightly narrowed eyes skim-read the content.
"Anything interesting?" the shorter girl drawled, plopping down next to Rangiku and peeking inside her read. The princess chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully for a few seconds before turning to her friend.
"Well, so far nothing out of the common knowledge. Like, this is the only matriarchal kingdom know to still exist… More women fighters than men, the woman is the greater authority in the family, these kinds of things… some facts about the spiritual places and the traditions. Like did you know that the members of the loyal family, the females in particularly, can perform certain rituals…" her voice trailed off as she started leafing through the pages backwards in search for something she had obviously read and forgotten.
"How is this helping?"
"I'm trying to figure out what they would want from Toushiro."
Rukia paused for a moment, chucking her chin thoughtfully.
"Well, maybe they just want him as a hostage."
"Yes, but why him of all people?"
"Because he's one of the best captains?"
"That is a ridiculous reason." Rangiku rebuffed, frowning as she stopped on some page and started gliding her finger down the rolls of letters. "You saw how my dad reacted to his captivity. Do you really believe they didn't know he'll respond in that way?"
Rukia shrugged and leaned back, her own brows furrowed in an intent scowl.
"Now that I think about it, they could try getting Nanao instead if that were the case. Less trouble, since she's a girl and she's a noblewoman, your best friend and definitely someone who would spark an interest about negotiating." The black-haired girl noticed before pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on top of them. "Do you think they could've known about your relationship with him?"
"I doubt it. If they were so well-informed, they'd know we separated. And even on that condition my father would never do anything to get him back." Matsumoto mumbled with a bit of an exasperation tinting her voice. "Ah! There it is! See?"
Rukia shifted, letting go of her knees and leaning over the book again to see what the princess was trying to show her. They took a minute scanning the information carefully, then a low "hmm" sounded from the shorter girl's mouth.
"Ok, that, I didn't know." She pointed out, a trace of disgust creeping in her words as she pulled back and ran a hand through her slightly damp black locks. "It's a power-stealing ritual."
"It's not exactly stealing, the person has to be willing to give their powers away." Matsumoto observed as she pointed to some line in the book. "And they can basically perform it only once in their lives and only with someone with royal blood. Hitsugaya has no noble blood in his veins, he's just.. well…" she made a funny noise, reaching to scratch the back of her neck. "Like a peasant."
Rukia's brow shot up at that statement humorlessly.
"So I'm a peasant, too?"
"No! I mean… Ok, forget I said anything." Matsumoto blushed furiously, sticking her nose back in the book. "As I said, it's a one-time ritual which was most probably invented in order to keep the country safe in times of crisis."
"I don't get it."
"I suppose the logic is that the monarch consumes twice as much power as a regular person, which means she's able to protect her people better."
"But why would anyone willingly give up their powers?"
Matsumoto paused for a moment, going through the text a bit more carefully this time.
"Oh, it's because the ritual is actually a part of a marriage ceremony." She said, snapping her fingers victoriously to emphasize on how clever she was for finding that out. "The royals who agree on this become kings, actually. They're never as important as their queen, but they get authority, power and money. It's probably quite a fair deal."
"If you say so." Rukia shrugged, slumping back a bit as she gazed up at the ceiling. "I don't think anything would make me give up my abilities…"
Flashback:
Hitsugaya Toushiro hated balls. Especially masquerade ones, especially them – because holding something like that always meant he had to change his usual captain uniform for some inane costume that matched the theme. This year it was even worse, because instead of being positioned somewhere outside, he was forced to spend the night in the hall to preserve the order and the well-being of the bunch of snobbish and 'very important' guests.
Dammit…
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, deliberately quenching the irritation that was gradually raising in his stomach as he leaned back against the wall, his eyes wandering about the hall indolently. It was beautifully arranged, really, even his prejudiced self couldn't deny that. The thousands of candles all around the place were scattering gentle, pulsating light, that was reflecting jovially in the crystal chandelier, the glass ornaments, the silver plates and the exquisite goblets. There were millions of flowers in every corner of the room, on every piece of furniture and on every window-sill, the mellow petals spreading subtle scent in the air. All the colors seemed somehow diluted tonight, smoother, the slow, gentle music playing at the background only adding to the feeling of quaint nocturnal tenderness.
"Ahh, there you are! I was almost afraid you weren't going to show up!" a familiar voice cooed and Hitsugaya's eyes snapped up. The white-and-silver mask he was wearing on his face moved uncomfortably against his skin and he barely resisted the urge to tear it off and throw it on the floor, stamping on the accessory gratefully until it turned to dust. He was all clad in white and silver today – the colours of ice and snow, of winter – he didn't even know if the so-called 'costume' represented anything, he just couldn't pick anything else.
"Your Highness?" he mumbled with respect. Then…"What the hell are you wearing!"
Matsumoto chuckled, bringing her feather fan in front of her face.
"Oh, come on, this is very fashionable in the far West." She whined, spinning around so he could get a proper look of her dress. It was made of some sort of heavy pure white material, the long skirt tight in the waist area and flared around from that point on. The upper half was close-fitted around her body, the neckline square and not too low, but the shoulders slightly more bare than it was commonly allowed. The design was quite simple if truth, yet it underlined all of her natural endowments so perfectly that Hitsugaya couldn't help it but blush faintly under his mask, eyes widening slightly at the sight.
Seeing this, Matsumoto's smile vanished and she dropped her hand with the fan by her side, putting the other one on her slim hips with a hint of challenge implied into the gesture.
"What now? Are you going to lecture me, too?"
Hitsugaya's eyes snapped up and he hurried to push himself away from the wall, shaking his head as he stepped towards her.
"No, who am I to tell you how to dress." He said, his lips twitching in a sort of a half-smile as he tilted his head to the side. Matsumoto's features softened and she caught her wrists together behind her back.
"You are my friend and I want to know what you think. Honestly?"
"Honestly? Dammit, you are scandalously gorgeous." He shook his head again, barely stifling a chuckle as he leaned a bit and whispered in her ear conspiratorially. "All the women are staring at you."
Her lips twisted into a smug smile at that statement and she grabbed his hand suddenly, pulling on it harshly and towing him behind her before he could manage a protest.
"What are you doing?" he asked, alerted. Matsumoto glanced at him over his shoulder and grinned, forcing him to the center of the hall with her.
"Dance with me!" she sing-sang, grasping now both of his wrists and pulling him towards her. His eyes widened, lips parting slightly as his mind tried to process the newly arrived information.
"Your Highness…"
"If I'm going to shock them, I'd better shock them well, no? And besides, I'm Snow White tonight, it's only natural if you are my companion."
"I have work to do, and I can't dance, and I…"
"Toushiro," she cut him off again, pulling him even closer, her smile widening by a few teeth as she eyed him up and down. "There is another thing from the West that I want to try. I'm sure that you have heard of it. It's a dance, which people have stigmatized as indecent."
A spark of interest flamed in his aqua eyes and he nodded.
"Waltz."
"Waltz." She smirked before glancing over her shoulder at the orchestra and giving them a sign. The music changed instantly, causing a wave of perturbation to cascade along the guests as Matsumoto's warble of a laughter filled the air and she grabbed on the slightly abashed captain's hands, pulling him into the dance.
"You are crazy!" he hissed, his feet following hers awkwardly as he tried to catch on what she was doing. "Crazy and suicidal!"
"And you used to be short and grumpy and now you're just tall and timid."
"I'm not timid. And I wasn't short!"
"Whatever. Loosen up! No one is going to know you, you are wearing a mask."
"How many people do you know with white hair?" he snapped, then rolled his eyes and straightened his back, taking control over the dance. "You so own me for this one."
She giggled childishly at the statement and delivered a playful swat with the fan on his forearm.
"I'll make it up to you. Promise." She then glanced down at his feet, her brow raising wryly. "I though you said you couldn't dance?"
His grip around her tightened ever so slightly and he shrugged.
"I learn quickly. And I'm still very bad at this." He replied, trying hard to ignore the hundreds of gazes that were burning his skin as he spun her around and guided her across the dance floor with the alertness of a soldier who was expecting the onslaught of enemy forces from behind every corner. Matsumoto resisted the urge to sneer at his disgruntled expression and let him lead her on, her hand on his shoulder giving him a small squeeze of encouragement. He didn't seem to notice, though, too absorbed in not embarrassing himself any further by stumbling or stepping on her feet.
"You are so tense…" she drawled almost mockingly. He let of a small snort and pinched her waist furtively in some peculiar act of vengeance.
"Do you have any idea in what sort of situation you just involved me in?" he almost groaned and she bit her lower lip, shaking with muffled laughter at the way his voice sounded so desperate.
"If you hate this so much, let's get out of here." She then offered, gliding her index finger along the crook of his neck in a suggestive manner he didn't really understand. His brow shot up with confusion at that and he deliberately guided her to the part of the dance floor where there were far less people.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Remember that trick you used to do before, when we wanted to steal muffins from the kitchen?"
He blinked, stopping dead on his track.
"Now?" he asked, eyes widening incredulously. Matsumoto let her hands slide down his arms as a wicked smile twisted her mouth.
"Why not?" she cooed. "I. Dare. You."
Hitsugaya's own pale lips curved in a lop-sided smirk and he pulled his mask up, gazing down at the princess intently.
"You're on." He purred and at that moment a sudden and surprisingly strong gust of cold wind shook the ajared windows, throwing them open and springing into the room. In a single second all of the candles went out and the hall sank into darkness, a mix of startled cries, surprised yelps and nervous chuckles filling the air. Matsumoto's eyes didn't even manage to adjust as Hitsugaya's hand pulled her own one urgently in some unknown direction. She had to basically shove her knuckles in her mouth to keep herself from bursting into a hysterical laughter as she was guided blindly out of the hall and into the deserted garden.
End of Flashback;
A/N: In the next chapter we'll see what happens with Toushiro. :) Review till then and keep me happy!