Despite the air being relatively dry and free of humidity, Hitsugaya still had to walk with his hands out of his pockets, fingers limply hanging to try and minimize the amount of sweat culminating in his palms. He was perspiring heavily along his hairline, could feel it pooling in his hair and running past his ears, but he didn't dare remove the baseball cap he's borrowed from Karin that morning. At the very least it kept the glare of the sun out of his eyes.

It had been difficult finding an excuse to slip away from Kurosaki. More difficult than he wanted to admit. After a month of living in the same house, going to and from school together, attending club activities together, it left little time and reason for Hitsugaya to be separated from Karin. He supposed he could have waited till after dinner that night, when he was usually left to his own devices inside of his room, but instinct persuaded him against it. He needed to go during daylight.

The abandoned warehouse—once called the Momiage Publishing House, he'd discovered—stood in stark contrast to its appearance at night time. Now it just looked like a crumbling mess of red brick. Hitsugaya examined it from under the rim of his baseball cap, hands returning to his pockets despite himself. His right hand curled around the plastic of his Gikon dispenser, and he relaxed a bit.

The air betrayed no trace of reiatsu, but by now Hitsugaya knew better. He was betting on the warehouse being well and truly abandoned, that Iwasaki had moved on to another hideout now that this one was compromised. But that was little more than hopeful thinking. He knew about as much about Iwasaki now as he did before. Which was nothing.

"Oh! Hitsugaya-kun!"

Hitsugaya whipped around, eyes narrowed upon recognizing the voice. Haruki Nomura was coming up the sidewalk, waving his hand high over his head. His brown curls were half-soaked with sweat.

"My, it's a hot one today, isn't it!" Haruki exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of Hitsugaya and fanning himself. "We never got heat like this back in Sapporo. Unless we're talking about record highs, of course!"

"What are you doing here?" Hitsugaya asked, not in the mood to put up with useless chitchat.

"I'm on my way to the train station," Haruki reported happily. "Although by the looks of it I may be going the wrong way." He motioned to the warehouse. "Quite the eyesore. First I've seen since I've gotten here, haha!"

Hitsugaya had to suppress the urge to throttle him. "You've got the wrong train station," he said slowly. "This is the way to the abandoned station. The one you want is east of here. Past the supermarket."

"Oh?" Haruki seemed surprised. "Well, it certainly sounds like you know your way around here very well. So what, may I ask, are you doing here? By such a suspicious looking building, no less?"

Hitsugaya stiffened angrily. "That's none of your business."

"Goodness," Haruki said. "Such hostility in your voice, Captain. One would think you were up to no good."

The word captain hit Hitsugaya like a slap in the face. He leaned in, but Haruki didn't take a step back, unfazed by Hitsugaya's posture and demeanour.

"What did you just call me?" Hitsugaya demanded.

"Oh, dear. Should I have not called you that? I saw an older woman shout it to you on Sports Day, you see," Haruki said. He was still smiling pleasantly, but it seemed—at least to Hitsugaya—that his words carried the faintest air of menace to them. "I thought that was a clever little nickname. I assumed it referred to your position as the leader of the soccer club. So you can imagine my surprise," he smiled even wider, "when I found out that Karin-chan was the leader of the soccer club, and not you."

For the first time in his life, Hitsugaya was sorely tempted to swear at a human. There was a moment where he was torn between following through or grabbing Haruki by the collar of his shirt. In the end, he probably would have done neither, but it was rare for him to even consider it. He opened his mouth, prepared to get a scathing word in instead.

"Tōshirō!"

Hitsugaya almost heard the thundering of her feet hitting the pavement before he heard her shout. He and Haruki both turned to watch Karin sprinting up to them, her knapsack jumping what had to be painfully on her back with each stride. Her expression was one of pure agitation, but when she realized who was standing with Hitsugaya, she smoothed it out at once into a look of surprise.

"Haruki," Karin panted, wiping her forehead and the sides of her face. "I didn't expect to see you here too."

"Too?" Haruki shot a side-glance at Hitsugaya.

"Oh—yeah, I mean, we were supposed to go shopping after this," Karin said, realizing what she'd just implied. "Kazuya's birthday is coming up."

"Is that so!" Haruki exclaimed. "I had no idea! Do you suppose I should get him something too? I'm afraid I don't know Usaka-san very well, but he has been awfully nice about teaching me. It seems only fair that I should thank him. I don't suppose I could—"

Hitsugaya knew what was coming. He saw it from a mile away, and knowing what he was going to say, knowing that Haruki even had the gall to say it in the first place, caused Hitsugaya to do something that he never did: he moved without thinking. Before Haruki could finish, Hitsugaya reached out and grabbed Karin's hand, purposely and conspicuously.

"It isn't actually Usaka's birthday," Hitsugaya said flatly. "Karin made an excuse so as to not be rude about excluding you. Sorry."

"Oh-ho-ho-ho," Haruki said, lifting one hand to his mouth like a middle-aged woman who had just heard some juicy gossip. "It seems I should be the one apologizing. I had no intention of intruding in on your date. Please forget that I said anything."

"We're not—" Hitsugaya began, and then thought better of it. The more he could distance Haruki the better. "Good luck finding the station."

"Yes, thank you for the directions. Bye, Karin-chan!" Haruki said, wiggling his fingers at Karin even as Hitsugaya began to drag her away.

"Hey—" Karin said, as if to protest, but she saw the look on Hitsugaya's face and stopped. Then, for the next ten minutes, Karin didn't say anything, despite the fact that her hand had to be uncomfortable—Hitsugaya had gripped her by all four fingers and her thumb, leaving her hand awkwardly poised inside of his sweaty grasp.

"Dude," Karin said finally, tugging on his grip. "Stop for a minute."

"What?" Hitsugaya bit out, still fuming. They had stopped in the middle of a busy sidewalk, and people began to glance at them and brush shoulders as they manoeuvred around them.

"What do you mean, 'what'? What the hell was that back there? Did something happen?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're kidding, right?" Karin said incredulously. "Where do I even start? First of all—"

She stopped, suddenly looking embarrassed. Hitsugaya realized then that he was still holding on to her hand, and he snatched it back, mouth going dry.

"Sorry," he said. "I just didn't want him to come with us."

Karin stared at him. "Dude," she said. "Don't tell me Heita was right."

"Right?"

"About you being jea—"

"I'm not jealous of him!" Hitsugaya practically shrieked, causing the crowd around them to jump and look over in alarm. "That's not even close, okay? Look, I know he acts like everyone's best friend, but that's not who he really is. That Nomura kid knows something, or he's hiding something. He followed me to the publishing house—"

"And it's a good thing he did!" Karin snapped, suddenly bristling. "How could you even think of going back there by yourself? After everything that happened? Is that what you wanted this for?" She lightly smacked the brim of Hitsugaya's cap. "Did you think that would be enough to disguise yourself? If Haruki hadn't distracted you you would have gone back inside, wouldn't you? Are you some kind of idiot?"

"You're missing the point!"

"Excuse me," a girl nearby said. She was wearing a black apron over her clothes and looked slightly frightened of them. "I'm sorry, but you're causing a disturbance in front of my shop. You're going to scare my customers away."

"Sorry," Karin said quickly, grabbing Hitsugaya's arm. "We'll leave right away."

"I can walk," Hitsugaya said, but stopped protesting when Karin shot him a glare. She waited until they were off the main streets and walking through their neighbourhood before speaking again.

"Look," she said, "I agree it's weird that Haruki was there, but you are taking your beef with this guy to the next level. I mean," she gave him a weird look, "since when have you ever actually called me Karin?"

"What?" Hitsugaya said, almost in disbelief.

And then he remembered.

Karin made an excuse so as to not be rude about excluding you.

In that moment, Hitsugaya wanted the ground to split open beneath him so that he could sink into the earth. Never, not once in over a hundred years of his existence, has he ever called someone else by their first name. Not Matsumoto, not Isshin. Not even Hinamori. Not only that, but he had been caught doing it.

He was going to be sick.

"Hello?" Karin said, when Hitsugaya suddenly stopped walking, seeing his look of mortification. "Tōshirō? Are you okay?"

"I need to—leave," Hitsugaya croaked.

"Leave? What do you mean leave? Hello?!"

"I need to go," Hitsugaya said, turning around and walking stiffly in the other direction. "I need to leave. Goodbye."

"Dude, what the fuck? At least tell me where you're going!" Karin yelled after him, but Hitsugaya could no longer hear her, too caught up in thinking about disappearing from sight as soon as possible. Karin watched him go with exasperation.

"Boys," she muttered, turning and walking in the direction of home.

-.-.-.-

"…Matsumoto-san?"

"Hm?"

"What are you wearing?" Kōkichirō Takezoe asked, staring.

"They're called sunglasses," Matsumoto said, rubbing at her pounding temple with two fingers, "and I'll have you know that they're very fashionable in the World of Living. And great for keeping that awful sunlight out of my eyes."

"Lieutenant, weren't you supposed to be in Rukongai last night?"

"Listen, you. The Captain-Commander wanted to know what the Captain and I have been up to on Earth, and I just happened to debrief him at the bar, alright? Now do you need something?"

"Yes," Kōkichirō sighed. "I came to tell you that nobody wants to get in trouble for forging your signature on your documents, so they won't do it."

"Babies," Matsumoto muttered. "Fine, just leave it on my desk. I'll figure out what to do with it later."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

Matsumoto lifted a hand to her mouth and suppressed a burp, wincing at the taste of whiskey that came up. What the Captain doesn't know won't hurt him, she thought, adjusting her sunglasses. She waved perfunctorily at the guards as the doors of the Shōryūmon swung open before her.

With its relatively inconspicuous place as District #33 in East Rukongai, Kijitsume was neither a very rich nor a very poor district. It was far out enough from Seireitei that petty crime still took place, but it was a far cry from the neighbourhood Matsumoto had grown up in. Matsumoto looked around as she walked, taking in an old lady sweeping her front steps, a couple going for a leisurely stroll, a handful of kids playing with spinning tops. Judging from the looks people gave her as she passed, Matsumoto and her sunglasses were probably the oddest thing to have come by in a while.

"Excuse me," Matsumoto said, spotting a teashop and approaching the proprietor. "Do you know the residents of this area very well?"

"Mostly, I think. Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes, but he would have lived here a while ago. His name was Atsuya Iwasaki."

"Iwasaki?" The owner seemed taken aback. "I know the name, but I'm afraid you won't find him here. The house where that boy lived was torn down a long time ago. Only the plot remains there now."

"Torn down?"

"Yeah. People were frightened of the place. Probably thought it was cursed."

"I can't blame them. Where is the plot now?"

The proprietor gave her detailed enough directions that Matsumoto didn't take long to reach it. The plot hedged on a thick patch of trees, without much in the way of lanterns or lamps nearby; probably what perpetuated rumors of the place being haunted. With the exception of the three front steps and a few piles of rubble nearby, nothing remained of the home Atsuya Iwasaki grew up in. Not even a plaque or sign marked that a family had once lived here. Matsumoto looked across the flat slope of dirt and gravel, curious as to why nothing had been rebuilt in its place.

There was a sound like a sliding door rattling in its frame behind Matsumoto, so she turned around. Across the path, in the house directly across from the abandoned plot, the front door had been opened a crack, and through it a small child was glaring out at Matsumoto. By human standards, he couldn't have been any older than eight or nine, and he was overdue for a haircut. The childish brown eyes that peeked out from his long dark bangs made him look like an angry sheepdog puppy more than anything else.

"Oh. Hello," Matsumoto said, turning and offering up a smile.

The child said nothing.

"Ah, I've got it. It's these, right?" Matsumoto took her sunglasses off. "See? Normal eyes." She held the sunglasses out. "Want to take a look? They're just plastic."

The child threw the door open, feet planted apart as if prepared to fight. Matsumoto didn't think it was possible, but he was able to pinch his face into an even deeper scowl than before.

"What's a Shinigami doing here?" he shouted, squaring his shoulders. "We have no business with you!"

Matsumoto pretended to frown. "Goodness. You've got a lot of fire for such a little squirt."

"I'm not a squirt! My name is Miyazawa Toru!"

"Well, Miyazawa Toru, my name is Matsumoto Rangiku. Now what exactly have people been telling you that's got you all worked up over seeing a Shinigami?"

Toru turned his nose up. "Dad says it's the Shinigami's fault that people disappear around here. He says that Shinigami think we're disposable just because we don't have special powers and swords like you do. And he says I'm not allowed to play over there," he pointed to the empty lot, "because the ground is cursed, and that the Shinigami did that too."

Matsumoto exhaled slowly. She supposed she should have expected this. You don't just have one of your captains pop off 28,000 souls and expect people to have forgotten about it two years later. But the ugly truth was that Kurotsuchi was the least of it. If the need ever arose, Kurotsuchi—along with the rest of the divisions—could repeat that same ugly incident with full permission, and there was nothing the citizens of Rukongai could do about it.

"Come a little closer, Miyazawa Toru," Matsumoto called. "It's not polite to shout at someone from so far away."

Toru hesitated, but he balled his fists up and descended his front steps. He seemed determined to show that he wasn't afraid of her, despite his father's warnings. "What?" he said defiantly.

Matsumoto crouched down, settling her weight on the back of her heels. "Take a guess where I'm from."

Toru narrowed his eyes. "You're not from here, are you?"

"Here, specifically? No. But I used to live in District 64, in the north. So I consider myself very lucky that I wasn't one of the people who disappeared too."

"Yeah, but you obviously have powers," Toru huffed. "You could've defended yourself if they tried to take you."

"I'm not so sure about that. Someone had to save me, once, a long time ago." Matsumoto inclined her head towards the vacant plot. "Why did you say that this place is cursed?"

"Shouldn't you know?"

"Whatever happened here happened a long time ago. I don't know all the details."

Toru crossed his arms. "Dad didn't want to tell me what happened, but my sister Nako is friends with the Furuya guy that used to live two doors down, and he saw what happened."

"And?"

"There used to be a family there. A mom, a dad, an older brother and a younger sister. But Furuya said the big brother never left the house. The mom and dad used to say he was sick, and that he couldn't leave the house. Dead people don't get sick, do they?" Toru said suspiciously.

"It's very rare. But a few people can."

"Well, the older brother wasn't actually sick. That's what Furuya said, because his older brother told him that you could hear the mom and the dad hitting him sometimes if you passed by their house at night."

"They hit him?" Matsumoto said, attention focused.

"Yeah. Furuya's brother used to sneak out at night to drink with his friends or something, and sometimes the mom and dad forgot to close the windows all the way and you could hear them fighting and the older brother crying. It must've hurt a lot, if it made a big brother cry."

"Yes, it must've," Matsumoto said quietly. "Do you know why they hit him?"

"Dunno. Furuya said the mom and the dad were scared of him, but I don't know why they'd be scared of him," Toru shrugged. "He wasn't actually sick. They were just lying about that."

"How do you know?"

"Cause when the Shinigami man came to take him away Furuya saw him and said he looked normal. That he didn't look sick at all."

"Who took him away?" Matsumoto said sharply.

"I dunno. Some guy in a white coat," Toru said, nervous at Matsumoto's sudden change of tone. "It was the same night that the family disappeared. Furuya said that one night when he was sleeping, he woke up and heard yelling and screaming from inside the house. Everyone was too scared to go see what it was, so they sent someone to go get a Shinigami. And then the one that came was dressed like you," he pointed at Matsumoto's uniform, "but he was wearing a white coat on top of it."

"And?" Matsumoto pressed. "What happened?"

"Dunno. They were just gone," Toru said. "Even though everybody heard the mom and the dad and the sister, the Shinigami man came out and said that they must've run away. Nobody saw them leave, though, so they couldn't have run away."

"They were gone?" Matsumoto said. "Just like that?"

"Yeah. After the Shinigami man took the older brother away, people went inside the house to take a look, but it was empty. Nobody was there anymore. Then people got scared and said the older brother must've did it, and that's when they broke the house down."

"People think Iwasaki did something his family?"

"Yeah." Toru leaned in and lowered his voice. "Furuya's brother said that when they broke the house, the lifted up the floor and the whole ground underneath was black with blood. Furuya's dad had been helping, and after he saw that he went to a priest cause he was scared he was cursed after touching the house."

That had definitely not been in the report. "And the Shinigami man? Did Furuya or his brother remember what he looked like?"

"Not really," Toru said. "They just said he was wearing glasses."

Matsumoto swore under her breath.

"Hey, you're not gonna get me in trouble, are you?" Toru said uneasily. "I don't think I should have told you all that."

"No, you're not in trouble. I won't tell anyone it was you that told me," Matsumoto said distractedly, standing to her full height again. "You know where Furuya is now?"

"Dunno. His family moved to another house fifteen years ago, and I think he got married and started his own family now."

"Never mind, then. Thanks for the tip, kid. And hey," Matsumoto said, stopping mid-step as she was about to turn away, "you remember my name, alright? If there's something else that you can tell me about this, or if you ever need anything, just ask for me."

Toru stared at her. "Do you know what happened to him? The big brother?"

"Yeah," Matsumoto said. "Yeah, I think I do."


Author's Notes

Hey all! I'm going to be really busy with school for the next few months, but I managed to put this together to hold you guys over till then. Thank you all for the wonderful comments and praises! Enjoy :)