A/N: Yep, the new chapter's out, out, out! Please give it read, and I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Twenty – Favors
It's amazing how people's personalities change over the course of time. Just a few decades ago, Hinamori was that optimistic, energetic neighbor who always brought a fresh watermelon from her garden. Sucking on her bottom lip in deep concentration, she would slice the melon into four quarters—three for Hitsugaya and one for herself—very meticulously, always making sure that the pieces were congruent.
"It doesn't matter," he remarked one day, watching her clean the knife with a tattered rag, probably once a sleeve of an old shirt. "Watermelon's watermelon. No need to be a total freak about it."
Hinamori threw her head back and let out a bright, ringing laugh that stirred the birds from their perches in the trees. She scooped up Hitsugaya's share of the watermelon and dropped the enormous pieces into his lap. "I'm a perfectionist, Shiro-chan. I like doing things right."
He gorged into his first quarter in a matter of seconds, kicking the rind out into the yard and spewing black seeds collected in the pouches of his cheeks into his hand. The black, shining seeds—packages of life and of fresh, juicy delish—glimmered on his palm as the morning sun cast its grin upon them, and he tossed them into the grass. "Momo?"
She took a single bite of her own slice, munching slowly like a cow chewing cud. Swallowing, she nodded. "Yeah, Shiro-chan?"
"Why do you do things so slow?" Hitsugaya snorted. He hugged his arms around his knees and glared at his watermelon rind rolling down the hill. It'd be a good idea to fetch that sometime soon or else the neighbors will come banging at Grams's door again, frothing at the mouth with vile complaints. He rolled his eyes. "I mean, come on. You cut watermelon slow. You eat slow. You walk slow. What's up with that?"
"Well," Hinamori said, setting her barely-touched watermelon beside her and leaning back against her elbows. "I could say the opposite for you. You take things too fast, like eating for example." She poked his stomach, and he squirmed away in disgust. Giggling, she sat back up, her finger drawing circles, squares, and other shapes on the worn wooden porch. "It's nice having such a great snacks like watermelon, so why not savor it? We've got all the time in the world! There's no need to wolf down your food like that, silly!"
Hitsugaya scowled and turned away. "That's stupid. The slower you eat, the less time we have to play soccer."
"Just get this. Even though it sounds kind of cheesy, appreciate what you've got at the moment, Shiro-chan. Nothing lasts forever—especially watermelon!"
Nothing lasts forever. Hitsugaya never imagined their friendship ending. He always marked it as an exception from that phrase, a one-in-one-million chance discrepancy, a scientific anomaly. But that was merely wishful thinking. All bonds come a breaking point, just as a rubber band can't stretch on forever. Sometimes, they just snap all of a sudden, the reverse-impact throwing both sides backwards onto the ground.
"It seems that you're awake, Hitsugaya-taichou!" The sound of Urahara Kisuke's voice jerks him out of his bleary daze, and Hitsugaya sits himself up on the dusty mat. The shopkeeper steps over a piece of debris, accompanied by Sarugaki with the usual smirk souring her freckled face.
"'Bout time, midget," she jeers, flashing her teeth and the one incisor that sticks out like a thorn.
Hitsugaya pushes aside the urge to shove her onto the mangled ground. At this point, he should be accustomed to enduring her snarky remarks; they are nothing more than empty words with no purpose whatsoever. A fool will react to such meaningless banter. "Urahara." He regards the grinning man, purposely ignoring his indignant companion. "How long was I out?"
"Oh, no more than fifteen minutes," Urahara replies, leaning on his wooden cane. "But I'm afraid that you must leave at all haste before the Gotei 13 arrive for question, Hitsugaya-taichou."
Hitsugaya tugs down the neckline of his shihakusho. The dark daffodil print that stood as a blatant indicator on his chest had disappeared, leaving only clear, unmarked skin. "It's not Hitsugaya-taichou anymore," he murmurs, stroking the place where that limit had once been. "I guess I'm officially a defector now."
"Yup," Sarugaki huffs. "Now get yer ass up, 'cause we gotta scram. Now!" Without warning, she raises her foot and squints, as if aiming for the perfect spot to hit, but with his cane, Urahara blocks her shin before her kick can make contact with Hitsugaya's face.
"Of course, Hiyori-san," he chuckles. "Always the one to keep us on track."
"But since I'm no longer a captain of the Gotei 13," Hitsugaya says, his hand hovering over the hilt of his Zanpakuto. "That means I can't open a Senkaimon anymore. How are we going to return to Soul Society?"
"I've got that under control." Urahara points to the black remains of the Urahara Shop. "Fortunately, if we can wriggle under that pile of rubble and get down to the underground training room, we can use the Senkaimon I've constructed down there, so no worries."
"That's great," Hitsugaya lets out a breath of relief. He and Sarugaki are undeniable lucky to have ended up at the Urahara Shop, out of all possible places. A location abounding with resources, it provides the ideal place to recuperate and gather valuable information and supplies. Anywhere else, they would've been stuck, hindered by his injuries, and most likely unable to continue pursuing Hinamori.
He picks up Hinamori's armband from beside the mat, tracing the Fifth Division symbol: the lily of the valley. Memories of her bouncing up to him, displaying proof of achieving her long-craven dream, drive into him like needles.
"See, Shiro-chan?" she had proclaimed with pride, stroking the badge. "I did it! I told you that I could do it!"
He tugs his sword off his shoulder and fastens the armband around the hilt of his sword. It may be a hindrance during fighting, swinging around his wrist, possibly distracting him from the fight, but it's a reminder. A reminder to step it up because it's his best friend at stake here. "Urahara, to set the record straight, we're blaming this mess entirely on me, which will explain why I am 'defecting' by leaving my haori here and removing my limiter"
The shopkeeper bows his head. "Ah yes, since that seems to be the best course of action for you—"
"Hold up, now!" Sarugaki steps forward angrily. "Why does he get all the shit landed on him? That ain't fair, makin' him take all the blame! We oughta split it fifty-fifty!"
Urahara places a hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid he's right, Hiyori-san. With that Visored Repeal going on back in Soul Society, having you 'commit' such crimes as arson and treason will jeopardize the process for Hirako-san and everyone else. It's best if Hitsugaya-taichou, er, Hitsugaya-san takes over this."
"Hmph, whatever," the Visored sniffs. "I'm gonna help that Jinta brat clear away some crap so we can go into yer dungeon." She twists out of Urahara's grasp, crosses her arms, and stomps away, swearing furiously beneath her breath.
A wispy smile passes over Urahara's tired features as he watches Sarugaki march off and wave a fist at his young attendants. "Hiyori-san," he says softly. "It's been a while since I've seen her. She was my lieutenant, you know. Back about a hundred years ago."
"Really?" Hitsugaya's eyes widen. "When you were captain of the Twelfth?"
"Certainly! She and Kurotsuchi-san had a bit of a rivalry, I must say, but those were the good, old days." The shopkeeper winks but his expression turns serious. "Back to what we were discussing. Are you absolutely sure that you want to carry through with this, having the Gotei 13 come after you? There's no need to take this upon yourself."
"There's no way I'm letting them go after Hinamori," Hitusgaya responds firmly. The confidence in his own voice surprises him, and he smiles. "And that's final."
"As you wish." Urahara rubs his stubbly chin, and he lifts his face towards the bleary sky. "Hitsugaya-san? May I ask you a personal favor?"
"Uh, sure. What is it?"
Urahara turns, observing the commotion at the ruins of his home: Tessai holds two kicking and screaming individuals—Sarugaki and Jinta—by the scruffs of their necks, solemnly berating them while Ururu nonchalantly blasts the debris apart nearby with a cannon hefted over her shoulder. "Hiyori-san," he speaks. "Please make sure Hiyori-san doesn't do anything too reckless. She's a strong-willed fighter, but sometimes, she lets instinct prevail over strategy, which may ultimately lead to…" His voice trails off as Sarugaki yanks herself out of Tessai's hold and spits nasty profanity at the squirming Jinta.
"No need to explain," Hitsugaya replies, watching impassively. "Although I can't promise that, I'll make sure to do my best."
Urahara laughs quietly. "That's just fine."
Urahara tosses a small object to Hitsugaya. He catches it nimbly in his palm: it is a rusty switchblade, its handle riddled with strange bite marks and scratches. "It's a key to a one-time-use mini-Senkaimon that'll get you immediately to District 59 in North Rukongai, which is your starting point!" Urahara explains. "It'll save you a lot of time, so be sure not to lose it!"
"Thanks." Hitusgaya pockets the small blade and readjusts his Zanpakuto against his shoulder. "That makes things somewhat easier."
Urahara nods. "Don't mention it. Well, I hope you're ready." He taps his wooden cane against the desert earth of the underground training room, and with a deafening roar, the gate behind him rears open, a dark dimension swirling within its enormous frame. "Now heed Yoruichi-san's warnings about the Onmitskido!" he shouts over the scream of the Senkaimon. "And you're good to go! Best of luck, you two!"
"Ready, midget?" Sarugaki hollers.
He nods.
Taking the lead, Sarugaki sprints into the void, and Hitsugaya follows, gripping the hilt of his sword and wrapping his fingers securely around the badge of Hinamori's armband. Exchanged his tenure as a captain. Leaving his haori at Urahara's shop. He's done all this for his lost best friend, with all intention of bringing her back home.
The Senkaimon swallows them in one gulp and upon an instant, falls silent. The alternate dimension disappears in a flash, leaving not a hint of the two defectors of Soul Society.
"Urahara Kisuke." Her feet pace back and forth across the wreckage of the shop, kicking aside a charred rock here and there, leaving a muddled strip of footprints in the grubby ground. That's how she likes it best: an ambiguous trail with no lead or end. Having not a hint of where her target is provides a real challenge, something that doesn't pop up all the time nowadays.
She swivels forward to face the despicable man who was the source of her abandonment. He is dishonest, fraudulent, and downright lazy. To think that such a man had deprived her of Yoruichi's pride? Absolutely disgraceful.
"Urahara Kisuke," she repeats.
"Yes, Soi Fon-taichou," he replies, offering her a grin. "What's the occasion?"
That flippantness. That tone clearing indicating that he doesn't take things seriously. Soi Fon cannot stand men like that. Men must stay serious and professional, not carefree and distracted because otherwise, accomplishing a task is by far, impossible. Urahara is one amongst a boatload of men she won't hesitate to cast into an acidic lake. Hirako Shinji. Kurosaki Ichigo. Her own lieutenant, Omaeda.
"Have you detected any presence of former Tenth Division captain Hitsugaya Toshiro? He has removed his captain's limit at this very location." She searches the detested shop owner's face for any clue of falsehood. The twitch of the mouth. The shift of the eyes.
"Why, yes I did!" Urahara exclaims. "You're holding the proof right there, in fact!" He gestures towards the torn Tenth Division haori sitting in Omaeda's hands awaiting further inspection.
"Have you detected any presence of Visored Sarugaki Hiyori?" Soi Fon spits the blonde girl's name with utter spite. Sarugaki was absolutely impudent towards her countless times, and the incident in the hospital lobby surges back into her mind with the force of a geyser.
"No, I don't think so," Urahara answers.
"No?" Soi Fon frowns. "Because we sense her very presence here." She kicks at a seat cushion by the coffee table, and her lieutenant retrieves the object as evidence.
The shop owner sighs, kneading his temples. "Well, it's been a crazy morning, I'll admit. I wouldn't have noticed anything, due to the pandemonium. We were too occupied trying to get ourselves out of the place and set up a barrier to prevent human interaction. Hitsugaya-taichou attacked and left before we could event retaliate."
"What happened to your shop," Soi Fon demands, turning her head towards the remains.
"As I said before, we were attacked by someone who strongly resembled Hitsugaya-taichou. They completely destroyed the shop, and it seems they were in search of something. And they found it."
"What was he searching for?"
"I don't know. I was restrained, but Tessai-san managed to free me."
"Is that so?" Soi Fon squints at the tall, bronze Tessai, soberly awaiting his own round of questioning. "And before I move on, have you sensed any presence of former Fifth Division lieutenant, Hinamori Momo? She has also removed her limit at this very location before disappearing altogether."
"I don't think so. I have no idea who Hinamori Momo is."
"Very well," Soi Fon sighs. "Omaeda, finish questioning the rest of these people and prepare the men to advance back into Soul Society. We are going to need to set up a plan to find these three defectors."
A/N: How'd you all like it? Please leave a review and tell me what you think! What can be improved and whatnot would be a real help to me as writer! Thanks!
By the way, is anyone else digging this Toshiro/Hiyori pairing as much as I do? Feel free to check out "The Rukongai Games," a spin off of the Suzanne Collins's The Hunger Games, with looks of Toshiro/Hiyori goodness to come! I'd appreciate it if you guys take a quick peek at it and tell me what you think! Once again, thanks for all the support!