She spun around upon hearing her name called, just in time to catch Rukia as the always energetic Shinigami barreled into her. What a relief! She had been on edge ever since talking to the sotaicho and being sent to see her brother. So far, the gathering of powerful Shinigami was only making her more and more uncomfortable. Everyone here was close to her brother in one way or another, but that didn't make them all friendly. Some, she supposed, still resented or blamed Ichigo, others just seemed awkward around her, like they didn't know what to say but they wanted to say something.
Rukia was never like that. She was a lot more serious than when they had met, when Karin wasn't even a teenager yet and she wasn't supposed to know about things like Hollow and Shinigami. No, Rukia had always been as direct and open as she could be, even when she had to lie to the human girl. Rukia had been the one to explain the war and Ichigo's part in it to her when she died, and Karin had never once heard her doubt Ichigo.
She hugged back, wishing again that she could see Rukia more often. Had she known then what she knew now, she wouldn't have taken the lieutenant's position. She could have joined Rukia and Renji in the 13th, then. Not that she had anything against her captain. In fact, Rukia's brother was, if she was honest, one of the few that could keep her in line. More than that, she found herself sincerely wanting to impress him, surpass his expectations, and so she kept herself in line more often than not.
"Is it true? Is this about Ichigo?" Rukia whispered in her ear, standing on tiptoes.
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about," she deadpanned, then stepped back to protect her ears from the repressed squeal. Rukia sounded just like a teapot on boil.
She couldn't help but grin, thankful again to have an honest ally who wasn't afraid to talk about Ichigo. A gathering like this was very rare. No more than half of the captains ever met at once, a precaution in case base camp was attacked. She had only been to three meetings with this many higher-ups. While Rukia stepped around her, having already pushed it by greeting her first while her noble brother waited a few steps away, Karin surveyed the group as people started to settle in at a long, oval table. Everyone here had likely figured out what was happening. If they hadn't, looking at this crowd would be a dead giveaway, for every one of them was tied to Ichigo.
There was Division 3, Madarame and Ayesegawa, friends of Ichigo's she had only met at one captain's meeting and had never spoken to. Renji was talking animatedly with them, waving his hands about dramatically. Just approaching the table was Division 5, Hirako and Sarugaki. Shinji had greeted her earlier. The Visored captain had taken the time to talk to her more than once when she was new to Soul Society, breaking a few rules to spend time with her chatting about her brother.
Four captains and their lieutenants, plus the sotaicho, his two lieutenants, and Ukitake. The former 13th captain was no longer active in the field, his health now far too fragile, instead supporting Kyoraku as another, unofficial, lieutenant. All in all, she was more than a little intimidated, but also beside herself with excitement. She was one of the few who truly knew what to expect today, and she would get to see Ichigo again soon. If everything went according to plan, she would get to see the legend that was her big brother in action. And if it didn't go according to plan, they would likely all be dead, again, within the next few years.
Taking her seat next to her captain, who of course was stoic and expressionless, she was pleased that Rukia manhandled her husband around the table and sat next to her. Immediately, the other lieutenant leaned toward her.
"So, is he going to be here today?"
"Rukia, I'm really not supposed to say anything."
"Oh, come on, I'll find out in a minute anyway."
She sighed. Rukia was Ichigo's oldest friend here, and she was right, everyone would know soon. Plus, she didn't really want to keep the secret even for the next five or ten minutes. It had been so hard keeping her mouth shut the past few days. So, while tea was poured and colleagues that rarely met face to face caught up on gossip and actual news, she let herself whisper with the petite Shinigami who could easily be blamed for starting the whole mess, at least for the Kurosakis.
"The plan is to talk about it first, figure out who is going to be an asshole about it and try to work shit out."
The snickering of her friend made her grin. She was so careful around Rukia's big brother, schooled to avoid the look of disdain, like he had just stepped in a pile of shit every time she said shit. The side effect, whenever she could talk to someone who didn't mind 'foul' language, she cursed twice as much to get it out of her system.
"That crazy guy, Urahara, is bringing Ichigo. I don't know if they're gonna signal him or if he's just waiting around or what. Anyway, once he's here we go over the plan to get his Shinigami power back."
"But how? Are we all going to give him some of our power again or something?"
"What?"
"Well, last time we came up with a way . . . oh, nevermind, it's a long story. I suppose it could work twice, but what about his memory?"
"Damned if I know. They didn't tell me the details, just that they have a plan to get his power and his memory."
"But then, what? What if he remembers whatever Aizen did? He'll run off to kill him, I just know it."
That's what she loved about Rukia. Anyone else, even Renji, would wonder if Ichigo would remember betraying them and do it again. Not Rukia. She didn't just assume Ichigo didn't do anything wrong, she knew it.
"I'm guessing they have some kind of plan for that, too. What I can't figure, where's Toshiro?"
"Oh." The violet eyes looked down, suddenly more sad than excited. "I can't believe I hadn't thought of that. They must be planning to keep it a secret. Poor Hitsugaya-taicho."
"But why? If anyone would be happy to get Ichigo back, it would be Toshiro, right?"
The cringe said it all. Karin knew people avoided talking to her, especially about her brother. A few had told her stories, listened to her own tales, but they all fell quiet when she asked how Toshiro was doing. Even Rukia had said that it really wasn't her place to talk about it. She knew now about Ichigo being in love, almost being married, and she had never had a clue when it was actually happening. She'd tried to talk to Toshiro a couple of times, a chilly look and silence all she ever received. He was nothing like she remembered, not his looks, certainly not his personality.
"That's not exactly true. But it really isn't . . .."
"Your place to talk about it, yeah, got the memo."
ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo
His eyes narrowed, fist clenching around the little scrap of paper, and he barely held back a curse. Another change in assignments, another shifting of territories, this one even more drastic. It would put his squad and his division back three or four days, so many missed kills, and again facing the risks of unknown districts.
That was it. He'd had enough of this sick game. With a casual air, he stood and stretched, letting the message fall as he incinerated it with a brief flare of kido.
"Cancel the strike. Move the squad to the west, the second camp. Take the entire squad and all supplies to base camp in 24 hours if I don't return."
"Have you been called in, taicho?"
"That's one way to put it."
More like, they had thrown down the gauntlet one too many times. Now he had no choice but to pick it up or hide like a coward.
"Taicho," her voice was quiet, cautious, "I should go with you."
"Should you?"
He looked down at his hand, noting how it trembled. It was getting difficult to sort out emotions. Mostly rage, he thought, but toward the Gotei, Aizen, Ichigo, himself? And her? He had known Rangiku almost his entire life. They had been partners for decades now. Never since he had taken the haori had he questioned her absolute loyalty.
"Is that part of the plan, then?" Irate, he looked unflinchingly into her wounded eyes, his voice losing its dispassionate tone. "Are you the one they trust to handle me if I lose my temper? I'm just guessing here, Matsumoto-fukutaicho, since I have been kept ignorant of the details. Kept in the dark by my commander, by my subordinates, lied to by my own second, as if this has nothing to do with me."
She flinched, and he watched in anger and detached curiosity to see if she would weep. Before the war, perhaps, such harsh words would bring tears. Before Ichimaru left with Aizen, certainly. But time and hardship had hardened her tender heart, else she never would have been able to lie to him at all.
"So, tell me, should I take you with me? If I leave you here, will you ignore my orders and follow anyway? The very idea of such insubordination would have shocked me a month ago. Now, I would not be surprised."
He was surprised, however, when she did not back down, did not break out the crocodile tears, did not cringe. Instead, hurt changed to anger and she practically spat at him.
"That's right. Got it all figured out, tensai-taicho, like you always do. Why do you bother to ask me any questions at all?"
With two quick steps she was right up in his face, leaning toward him, looking just as furious as he always felt. And he smirked. Not in derision, though he knew that's what she would see. He had not seen such genuine conviction in her eyes in ages.
"Well, I hate to shatter your perfect vision of the world, genius, but you aren't the only one who has to choose between duty and friendship. You aren't the only one who is trying to move forward without hope. And if you could just get your head out of your ass for 10 seconds, maybe you'd realize that at least you have something you might want to live for, someone who loves you enough to fight for."
The smug grin had dropped from his face, eyes narrowing. He was unsure how to react, a feeling he was becoming all too accustomed to. Then she fell back with a horrified look and clapped one hand over her mouth briefly, as if just realizing what she had said.
"How dare you?"
The words were muffled, but he was fairly sure of what he heard, and he cocked his head. Her implication was correct, he did not have everything figured out, as evidenced by his curiosity over what she could possibly mean now. He saw it coming, but did not move to stop her or try to dodge, hearing the impact, tasting blood, feeling his head knocked sideways so forcefully that he staggered a step.
"How dare you make me defend that human bastard!"
Leave it to his fiery lieutenant to use a closed fist instead of an open hand. And leave it to her to see things that way, to be so enraged by confronting her own truths, her caring for both him and Ichigo, that she lashed out at them both. He chuckled quietly as he rubbed his jaw and turned back to look at her, at least some of his anger defused by bitter amusement. In the face of her raw honesty, how could he expect any less of himself? Her wide-eyed stare became a venomous glare as his hand left his chin and went to clasp the chain around his neck.
"You seem to have a talent for it, Rangiku. Fine. Follow along and enjoy the show. You've paid the price of admission, after all."
All the fire abruptly went out of her, and she sagged, one hand on the table, looking down at nothing.
"I suppose I deserve that."
He ran over his words. Even when he was so deep in grief and self-loathing that he pushed everyone away, seeking ways to hurt himself just to feel something other than despair, even then he was not so mean and spiteful. Then, he had been incapable of such, so disconnected from everyone around him that he had no feelings about them one way or the other. Now, he was hurting. But he should not be making the same mistake; he should not be pushing away the few who stood by him through it all.
So, what was he doing? Spreading the hurt, making sure everyone who came near him felt his torment? It wasn't right. It was weak, and the only excuse he could use was inexperience. Until Rangiku, he had never tried to rely on anyone, not even Momo or granny. Until Ichigo, he had never truly let down his defenses. And Ichigo had taught him a valuable lesson. Sharing pain was difficult. Sharing strength, accepting the support of another, that was nearly impossible for him. But once he had, the world had become a different place, a place once riddled with threats and challenges became filled with possibilities and wonder.
"No, Ran. You deserve so much better."
It was an apology, and a plea, and she knew it. Really, she did deserve better. Even if she had a choice when ordered by the sotaicho, which she did not, he still had no right to blame her. Though he considered her a friend, his dearest friend, he never had left the door open for her to talk about what had happened, snapping at her or punishing her by shutting her out for weeks at a time for even mentioning Ichigo. She was only doing what he had taught her to do, keeping secrets, keeping her distance, keeping her own hurt and guilt bottled up inside.
He did not use kido to accelerate the healing, a strange way of acknowledging that he, in fact, did deserve it. The bone was not broken, just terribly bruised. And he did not avoid the incredulous stares of his soldiers as he left the command tent with his lieutenant on his heels. They would not have heard the exact words, the barriers around the tent just strong enough for that, though Rangiku's shouting and their reiatsu would be telling enough without the red and swelling skin of his left jaw and cheek. It took only a few minutes for the squad to gather and hear her instructions, while he stood back observing the tension, the attempts to hide curiosity. His poor division, they were so used to bizarre behavior from their captain and lieutenant that it didn't even frighten them to suspect the two had been fighting seriously enough to end with Toshiro getting decked.
He hated traveling to base. For the sake of security, they would spend more than an hour on the move through random locations and preset traps to be as certain as possible that they were not followed. It was necessary, and he swallowed his irritation as he returned to the tent to gather his scant belongings and a couple of withered apples to stave off hunger.
The time went quickly. The need to stay on alert kept his mind mostly occupied. They picked up one tail, three very foolish Arrancar trying to sneak up on a captain and a lieutenant. It was barely worth drawing his sword for, but killing them was always satisfying. The final passage through a complicated set of traps and barriers took all his attention for a good 30 minutes. 30 minutes without thinking of him, without thinking of what was coming.
They passed the last barrier, both raising hands high and staying still while surrounded by onmitsukido. Passwords exchanged, reiatsu confirmed, they were finally allowed through to the current and favorite base camp. The meadow was, as always, empty and pristine. Buildings were carefully hidden in the surrounding forest, the old-fashioned way, careful placement, dirt and plants as camouflage, no kido to give them away if an enemy got this far. And the large cave entrance had its own natural screen of tall spruce, thick underbrush, and a rocky overhang. As he passed through yet another set of barriers to enter the cave, he started to catch the reiatsu signatures inside and his heart sank.
So, this was it. That final provocation had been either to distract him while they met behind his back, or, more likely, Ukitake arranged it knowing it would bring him running. A final insult, to not simply tell him to come? Or some twisted way to let him choose, to pretend not to understand and stay in ignorance a little while longer?
There were hundreds of Shinigami within the caverns, an underground city of stone and darkness that had become home to what was left of the Gotei 13. But the strong ones stood out. Along with the sotaicho, there was Ukitake, the Abarais, Kuchiki and his lieutenant Kurosaki, Madarame, Ayasegawa, Hirako . . . those with the strongest ties to Ichigo. And they were all staring as he stalked into the meeting hall, a few rising to their feet, silent and waiting as his eyes locked on his only other friend, the man who had cruelly pulled his strings to make him dance to this very spot.
Unlike with Rangiku, the rage did not abate. He let it flood him, the desire to do serious harm, pleased to see the pale skin lose its hint of color, the brown eyes widening. Internally, automatically, a battle plan formed and revised, noting the two lieutenants behind Kyoraku, hands on sword hilts. The former 11th Division members, similarly standing and braced, always eager to fight. The Visored, fearsome opponents if they joined in, hard to tell with the casual, somewhat amused expressions. Kuchiki and the Abarais, also not predictable, more likely to try to halt any action than try to harm him. Little Kurosaki, poor thing, power enough to be a threat but too uncertain, already looking like she might panic.
He stopped several feet from the empty end of the table, hand well away from Hyorinmaru but struggling to redirect the murderous impulses. If he did not wish this to escalate, perhaps he should consider simply turning, leaving, and letting Kyoraku and Ukitake go to hell. He could continue to fight on his own, under no one's authority. It wasn't like what was left of the Gotei had the men to spare to stop him or arrest him. The very thought was ludicrous.
"Hitsugaya-taicho, what a pleasant surprise. You were not directed to attend this meeting, I believe?"
Tearing his eyes away from Ukitake to settle on the seated sotaicho, falsely casual with a lazy air, he gave a grin that was more a baring of teeth. Kyoraku didn't even twitch, not that he expected it. He now knew that he had the power to intimidate the old captain, though that was based on fear of what might happen if he lost control.
"Let's not play that game, sotaicho. You've been directing me to be here for weeks." His eyes flashed back to Ukitake, full of threat. "Well, you have me. So, let us talk about this plan of yours."
What they failed to realize was that he had never lost control; he had willingly surrendered it, giving all that he was to the powerful dragon in order to hide for a time, to indulge in bloodlust that his waking mind would not permit. And it had been glorious, the power, the death and destruction on a scale he had only imagined. Even if he did so again, Hyorinmaru would not harm Shinigami allies. That said, the Gotei was treading very close to the line between ally and enemy.
"Please, have a seat, Hitsugaya-taicho. We were only beginning the discussion."
"Then please, continue. Do not let my presence be a hindrance."
He saw a few shivers, the pressure of his reiatsu causing the air to chill and he did not pull it back. He wasn't sure he could, and was not inclined to try. To be honest, he still was not sure what would come of this, the intensity of his emotions strangely making him feel numb, distant. Part of him wanted to scream and throw a tantrum like the wounded beast he knew he was. Part of him wanted to attack, even knowing he was seriously outgunned in this fight. And part wanted to give in, to sit, lay his head on the table and wait for death or life, and not move until one or the other came.
"Toshiro, why don't we just . . .."
"Do not dare speak to me, Ukitake Juushiro." He snarled, the calm cold breaking under the strain of his anger. "Stay in this deep hole and do not cross my path after this day."
Gasps were heard, including from Rangiku. The frail former captain fell back into his seat, somehow even paler, Kyoraku's hand reaching out to rest on the thin arm. Despite being waved down, Madarame and his lieutenant still stood with hands on hilts, as did the 1st Division lieutenants. Others around the table stayed seated but were tense. He did not blink, did not sit, did not return the nervous glance from Rangiku. He knew everyone in the room recognized his stance, relaxed and alert, eyes on the greatest threat but taking in all. One push. One wrong word and he knew he would break whether he wished to or not. And that would end it. He could not win against this many.
Kyoraku drew a breath to break the silence right as three new arrivals crossed through the barriers behind him.
He staggered forward a step before Rangiku grabbed his arm, steadying him. He had not predicted this, had assumed they could not bring him here with so little reiatsu.
Quickly, he reached for Hyorinmaru's presence, stopping the panic, letting the dragon's cold fury surround him and block the pain. It was a tactic he rarely used, a crutch to help him through the worst moments when everything crashed down and living no longer seemed worth the effort of taking another breath. Rangiku had pulled away with a yelp in reaction as the very air around him took on a deathly chill. He did not need her support any longer, and he straightened, emotion and reason dropping away into the icy void.
A/N
Don't know why I never tried author notes at the end. Makes more sense, eh? Doesn't get in the way for those not interested.
DenIchi, my friend, shhhhhh. Is rated T, somehow, still don't know how I'm managing not to include sex. I'll leave it up to you to decide what I was implying between Tosh and Grimm (and you've read my other stories, so I'm sure you'll guess right). Yeah, Shka, definitely going to have to do a GrimmHitsu story someday to get it out of my system. Just think adult Tosh is so easy to match up with just about anybody. Another reviewer (Karupin Sama) noted that I always have Grimm chasing Tosh, called Toshiro "Bad boy bait!" Ain't it the truth. I'm a GrimmIchi fan, too, but let's face it, too many awesome stories with that pairing already! Hmm, never written a threesome before . . .