Title: Rain Again

Genre: General, Comfort

Characters: Hitsugaya and Matsumoto

Summary: He's on the ground. She doesn't think that's where he belongs.

It was raining again.

This wasn't anything unusual, not in the autumn. But for some reason, the soft, steady droplets impacting against the darkening dirt road still felt strange, out of place. Almost foreboding.

Well, there was that. But there was also the fact that a boy was lying flat in the mud in front of her. A boy with very familiar white hair and the number ten emblazoned across his back. "Taichou…?" Matsumoto Rangiku hazarded, crouching down to get a better look through the rain. "Is that you?"

An awkward silence followed before a grouchy voice that was definitely her taichou's croaked resolutely, "No."

"Ah. I see…" the buxom fukutaichou trailed, her tone solemn. When he still refused to move, she tried again. "Then who are you and what are you doing on the ground?"

"I'm minding my own business," came the gruff reply. "You should try it sometime."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Minding My Own Business. I'm Mrs. Fat Chance," she huffed, and without warning, she then proceeded to wrap her arms around his muddy waste and haul him right over her shoulder.

The shock lasted exactly 2.836 seconds. Then came the yelling. "Wh-Wha-What the hell are you doing, Matsumoto?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she grumbled as she trudged through the rain, holding her taichou tight despite his insistent struggles. "I'm carrying you home. You obviously weren't doing a very good job of it on your own. Unless you fell face down in the mud on purpose."

His still silence was more of an answer than any number of words could have possibly been.

"You know… I can think of plenty of places more fun to stick that face of yours."

A snort. Not exactly content but not homicidal either. "I'm sure you could."

"So next time you overwork yourself, why don't you come to me instead. At the very least, I'm a lot more comfortable."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Hitsugaya Toushirou began to cease his struggles, allowing himself to melt into the fabric of her ever-present scarf. As she walked, the fickle rain became a light sprinkle and eventually petered out altogether.

"Yeah…" he trailed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're right."