A/N: Here you all go! I hope you like it!

Izuku squinted his eyes against the fading golden sunlight, Todoroki standing motionlessly at his side. The tracking device was clenched securely in his pale hands, not yet turned on. They were both wearing their hospital clothing still, their regular clothes packed away in some unknown box in the depths of the hospital, but Hitsugaya, after giving them and himself a once-over, had disappeared in a blur of color, muttering something about 'finding their clothes.'

Suddenly, a shock of bright red hair jogged around the corner of a nearby building, Kirishima's pop of crimson spikes unmistakable. He waved as he approached, his red eyes blinking.

"Hey Midoriya-kun, Todoroki-kun…where's Hitsugaya-kun?"

Izuku exchanged a helpless look with Shouto, then turned back to the expectant Kirishima and shrugged sheepishly.

"Er…I actually don't know…he just took off muttering about clothes- GAHHHH!"

"Oi, keep your voice down, Midoriya."

Izuku peeled his arms off his face and came a step closer to the irritable white-haired teenager, blushing very red. Todoroki and Kirishima also relaxed, flinching a little bit when Hitsugaya smirked at them.

"You know…" Todoroki began, his voice somewhat choked, "It's rather impolite to just flash into existence in the middle of our conversation and expect us not to briefly panic."

The smirk widened. Hitsugaya was clearly enjoying himself.

"Oh, I did it on purpose. Your expressions were hilarious, by the way."

Then the young non-human held out two piles of clothes, complete with shoes, one for each of the two teenagers still wearing hospital garb. Izuku reached out and took his pile with some surprise, noting that his comfortable red sneakers were on top of the pile. He stared at Hitsugaya for a full minute before the other boy caught his gaze.

"I Shunpoed to your houses and snuck in through the window," he explained briefly. "Or to what I assumed was your house, Todoroki. Do you have an older sister with mostly white hair and red patches?"

The heterochromatic boy nodded blankly, staring at his pile of clothes.

"Yeah, her name is Fuyumi," he said absently. Then he looked up in consternation. "How did you find my house?"

Toushiro shrugged, and for the first time Izuku noticed that he was wearing oddly traditional gear, including a white haori, black hakama, and black kosode. It looked almost like funeral wear – save for the straw waraji shoes, which were so dated that they were barely even considered traditional wear anymore.

"Every human – or being, rather – has a distinct personal presence unique to them, like DNA. And again, rather similarly to DNA, siblings and family members typically have similar-feeling presences. Plus, there's very faint traces of your presence on most of the things you interact with on your way back home from the U.A. so I could follow that," Hitsugaya explained nonchalantly. Izuku glanced down at the tracker in his hands with some incredulity, then held it up.

"Um, if you can do that, why on earth do we even need this tracking device?"

Hitsugaya grinned, amused by the commentary. He seemed much more comfortable in the traditional wear than Izuku had ever seen him before, and though he still glanced around the hospital courtyard every five minutes as if checking the exits, his posture wasn't as tense as usual.

"Oi, even I have limitations."

"I suppose everyone does, in some regard…"

The group of four stiffened and Hitsugaya whirled around to face the street, one hand ghosting back to stroke the hilt of his sword. Yaoyorozu stood beneath a streetlamp, a slight flush on her face, upset and determination in her eyes. And just behind her, looking grim, was Iida. Kirishima reared back at the sight of them, gaping openly at Iida.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked blithely. "I thought you guys weren't keen on this whole idea."

Iida took a step forward, glaring at Hitsugaya with some measure of determination, his glasses flashing orange in the setting sun.

"While I do not doubt Hitsugaya-kun's sincerety in his intent to prevent you three from fighting, Yaoyorozu-san and I are of the opinion that he might need some extra help in actually preventing you from supporting him in a fight. And…and we are also coming along to ensure that Hitsugaya-kun is pulled away from battle if the situation permits."

The class president's voice was subdued but his stance was strong, obvious dislike for the whole affair evident in just the corded lines of his neck. Yaoyorozu also looked similarly determined, her dark eyes fixed forward. Hitsugaya regarded them for a long minute, the jade-green of his gaze narrow. Then he shrugged.

"Do as you please," he sighed. "Todoroki, Midoriya, go change and come back out here if you still want to go."

Casting Kyokko over Hyourinmaru had been incredibly convenient, and though it made his classmates rear back in surprise and some disapproval, he knew that he'd never have been able to enter the train station without the concealing kido woven over his Zanpakutou. His shihakusho and haori were already getting enough attention, and there had been one tense moment where the woman selling tickets had almost prevented them from catching the 8:20pm train.

Luckily, he could think fast on his feet, unlike his companions. After spinning a simple story about an aunt's funeral, emotional support, and the theft of his suitcase, they were on their way. Iida couldn't seem to stop frowning at him, probably because he was brazenly lying and deceiving every suspicious adult they passed with a vague smile, a forgettable greeting and an easily repeated tale. And because he'd feigned his cooperation with Aizawa's request for him to stay put, pretended to behave himself so he could do as he pleased.

Yaoyorozu looked less openly mistrustful of his intent, but she kept wringing her hands beneath her chin and biting her lip whenever their eyes met, both clear signs of her discomfort and anxiety. He tried not to feel too angry, too infuriated by the knowledge that she thought his mind was weak enough to fall prey to brainwashing, but he couldn't help the sneer that curled his upper lip back. She was the smart one – if he really was able to interact with a certain kind of particle that made him practically invulnerable to most conventional attacks, what's to say there wasn't a breed of human-like monsters able to do the same thing? And for the love of God, he wasn't human. He wasn't a human just given fancy powers and told that he was an inhuman creature, he was literally a different species. So were Hollows. How hard was it to believe that when some species of predators tried to blend in to trick prey into dropping their guard?

Todoroki and Midoriya, at least, were less forthcoming about their doubt. He could tell it was present, and the turmoil churning in Midoriya's strange reiatsu ever since he'd cut Luppi down was more than a telltale sign that the teenager was struggling. Todoroki seemed less affected – but then again, he'd been concussed at the time of Luppi's death and was naturally a quieter person. Midoriya's sunshine-personality, however, was floundering. It was painfully obvious that Izuku hadn't been prepared to see someone die – much less to see someone he was friends with be the unrepentant cause of death.

Toushiro actually felt somewhat guilty about that. His classmates, regardless of his own personal view of them, were children. Teenagers, and teenagers well on their way to adulthood, but they were children nonetheless. Exposing them to death on such an intimate, tangible level was something he had never intended to do, and would not have wished to show them. And Midoriya, optimistic-but-practical Midoriya, with a heart kind enough to accept a lonely frozen soul covered in thorny flaws – he hadn't been ready to accept that yet.

He tucked one leg under him, the other brushing against the carpeted train floor, his head leaning back against the seat. Hyourinmaru's sheathed length pressed into his spine but the concealing spell held without any issues, and he could close his eyes and breathe. He could think. He could strategize.

The plan he'd come up with was highly contingent on three things – one, that Shigaraki would be willing to make a trade-off. Two, that Shigaraki and Bakugo would be in the same place. Yaoyorozu had reported that Hagakure had snuck the tracking beads onto the scaled villain and the strange man with the ability to encapsulate people in small glass marbles, but there was no guarantee that the villains would only have one stronghold, or that they would have all gone to the same location. In fact, considering the biological monstrosities and tormented souls trapped inside the Nomu, it was almost a certainty that there had to be at least a facility of some kind, where the Nomu were created. However, he was approximately seventy percent sure that Bakugo and Shigaraki would be in the same stronghold, given that there was no reason for Bakugo to be abducted beyond an offer of friendship and alliance.

Of course, it was possible that Bakugo had been the one to reveal the location of the training camp to the villains and was a legitimate spy, but given that the villains had spent an entire day waiting in the woods on the outskirts of the training camp and hadn't made contact with a mole, he was reasonably sure that theory wasn't particularly watertight. There was also the curious fact that Bakugo was impossibly fixated on being a hero due to All Might's pervasive inspiration.

No, it wasn't likely that Bakugo was a spy. And he was far too bull-headed to agree to Shigaraki's proposals. So the probability of Shigaraki accepting a trade-off would likely be fairly high.

But the third exigency…

The third non-negotiable facet of his plan he was starting to doubt. He was starting to doubt it with alarming surety.

He needed his classmates' absolute trust. And nothing was more painfully obvious than the fact that, in killing Luppi, he'd lost it. He hadn't lost their goodwill yet, but it was glaringly obvious that they were more wary of his mental state. Yaoyorozu was clearly under the impression that his PTSD and allegiance to his 'organization' were drastically influencing his behavior. And Midoriya…that boy most likely wouldn't hear another word out of Hitsugaya's mouth about him fighting, if only because he was now a murder suspect. Todoroki was likely to be the same way – but Todoroki wouldn't try to talk him out of the whole affair before physically restraining him.

This wasn't like back in Seireitei, where he could simply give an order and expect it to be followed. In fact, he had the sneaking suspicion that if he tried that with these five, he'd end up hindering his own progress. They'd become wary, learned that he was trying to prevent them from getting too involved. Midoriya especially would protest and fight. That iron will of his always did manage to rear its head at inconvenient times – though if Hitsugaya was being honest with himself, he did have to stifle a growing respect for the teenaged boy that was slowly growing into his own beliefs.

So for one of the few times in his tenure as a shinigami, he found himself utterly at a loss. He had no idea how to work around this particular snafu – no idea how to make the group he was traveling with to act the way he wanted them to, but at the same time, he needed them to be present, even if only to collect Bakugo. He knew that they no longer trusted him implicitly, if only because they didn't want him running headlong into a jail cell, or into another fight in which he'd once again have to slay a Hollow.

But…how on earth would he gain that trust back?

For the first time in his life, Hitsugaya found himself cursing his inexperience, cursing his own lack of skill when it came to social situations. He couldn't manipulate these kids any more than he already had with lies alone – even though he was a skilled deceptionist, he wasn't the best at weaving complex lies and evolving them. Most of his manipulation was rooted in half-truths and his own skill hiding his emotions. It made him a particularly dangerous enemy. Since everything he did was based in truth, it was hard for his pawns to discover where the lies and lies of omission were.

It seemed like years ago, that he'd learned that skill from Soifon, but it had served him well. Up until now.

He'd already said all he could in regards to his origins and motives – anything more would tread into dangerous, illegal territory, and while Central 46's power had been crippled following the double assassination by Aizen and the Vandenreich, they still had just enough influence over the Gotei 13 to wheedle Kyoraku-soutaicho into making a show of appeasing their injured pride. Wiping the memories of anyone he divulged shinigami secrets to would be a piece of cake for them to do, but losing three months of memory could incapacitate his classmates. But that was the only real truth he had left to tell them, aside from the last-ditch contingency plan he'd created with the data on his Soul Phone. And regardless, he wouldn't divulge the story of his death willingly. Not even Matsumoto knew it.

He had to think of some other way to reforge that trust, to get to agree to follow him blindly, without knowing what his plan was. But how? What was there to convince them to follow his commands, even if only for a short time?

"Master…you must first trust them if you wish for that sentiment to be returned."

Hitsugaya stiffened, not expecting the gentle interjection from his Zanpakutou spirit. The dragon hummed in the back of his mind, the familiar, patient wisdom blanketing the inner surface of Toushiro's soul in fluffy snow. Toushiro blinked, ignoring the anxious looks the five he was traveling with gave him at his sudden tension.

"…what are you talking about, Hyourinmaru?"

The ice-drake puffed a soft breath of freezing air through him, the comforting chill spreading through his chest and abdomen.

"I think you know, little one. You have trusted them enough to tell them the half-truths you have told Aizawa-sensei. Now make them believe those truths."

Toushiro felt his chest tighten before he quite realized what was happening, the gasp of his own breath suddenly too distant – dangerously distant. He gritted his teeth, blocking the sensations out, trying to control his breathing.

"They don't need to know any of the shit I've been through! And I can't talk about it!"

"No, little one. Just as you've twisted the tale of your own origin, so you can twist the horrors you endured twenty years ago. You have just chosen not to."

"And you think I can talk about that now, of all times?!"

"…At least in this way you may use your PTSD to your advantage, hatchling. And you are likely to gain their trust if you show that you are willing to make yourself vulnerable around them. I am not suggesting anything save that it is a path you might consider."

It wasn't that the idea was bad – Hitsugaya dealt with bad ideas on the regular back in the Tenth Division. Rather, what hurt the most was that Hyourinmaru was right. Finally speaking out about the situations that had scarred him into feeling needles and seeing fire in his nightmares and even in the waking world…that could actually convince them. It could impress the importance of his request on them, make it clear that he needed their unquestioning obedience, if only for their own safety, and for his own peace of mind.

"Hitsugaya-kun, are you okay?"

That was Todoroki, sitting next to him, and he looked down to see his hands shaking in his lap, anxiety and fear and confused pain flooding his every nerve. Hyourinmaru's gentle plan was the only option he had right now, the only viable method he could see to get to where he needed for his plan to work. And he'd gone through worse pain to protect people before.

He could handle this.

You can come out, Captain!

"…no."

Honesty. It was hard to admit, so awfully hard to bite one little word out through the wall of his own paranoia and pride. What if they used this sort of weakness against him one day, turned around and threw this agony in his face the way that Aizen had every time Hinamori had been brought up? But when he felt Midoriya's hands on his shoulders, that puff of curly green hair shaking, the earnesty in that electric green soul radiating like sunshine, Hitsugaya relaxed by a fraction, some faraway echo in his heart resonating with that gentle strength. Izuku's scarred palm flexed lightly.

"Hitsugaya-kun, you don't have to come with us, you know," he said hurriedly. Toushiro looked at him, searching for…for something, for some inkling of his own broken ability to trust reflected in that sincere forest gaze. It didn't exist. Hitsugaya had to stifle a bitter chuckle, but it quickly turned into a pained wheeze as he dropped his gaze. It had been years since he'd felt this small.

"No, I…I have a plan," he said, willing his hands to still with little success. Iida adjusted his glasses and leaned in, as did Kirishima, both of whom were sitting closest to the train aisle. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki tried to give them room to listen even as they leaned in as well. Izuku nodded, the concern never leaving his face.

"That's good – you're good at those. How does it work this time?" Izuku said, his rambling chatter slowly starting to kick into high gear. Toushiro took a deep breath, then choked out a shaking laugh.

"…That's the kicker. It…it won't work if I tell you," he replied, feeling off balance, memories churning in the back of his head. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach, panic fluttering through him in little waves. "I…I need you all to trust me and…and for it to work, I need you all to do what I say without question."

Iida folded his hands over his knees, lips pressing into a thin line. He looked distinctly conflicted.

"Hitsugaya-kun, I don't think I can do that, especially given…given what happened at the training camp, with the villain you fought. And then the fact that you have even suggested we use you as a scapegoat…I don't know if I can even trust you to not hurt yourself and your own future."

The tone was firm, which Hitsugaya had been expecting, but there was also a note of apology there that was entirely surprising. Toushiro nodded weakly, the soft, apologetic noises of agreement from Kirishima and Yaoyorozu fading into the dull roar of screaming shinigami starting to pound in his head. Without thinking, he reached out, grabbing Midoriya's hands and squeezing, just trying to find something to ground himself. Izuku made a small sound of surprise, one that was quickly being lost to the cries echoing in his ears and bouncing off the inside of his skull. The train car was starting to flicker in and out, the stunned, betrayed faces of the Eleventh Division flashing into existence in front of him- a spray of blood as his arm wrenched forward, muscles burning, wounds throbbing, reiatsu scraping at the inside of his soul- foreign blood and fluids poisoning his body, burning, like acid on his nerves as he was forced to move, to kill-

No. Focus.

He blinked once, trying to breathe slow but there was no oxygen, his lungs cauterized in his chest, heart charred on one side, body failing- Giselle's giggle in the background, cruel and mocking-

Focus. Block it out. She's gone, she can't make you hurt anyone. Focus. Breathe. Who's there?

Izuku, Shouto, Momo, Eijirou, Tenya. Five people. He needed them to trust him.

Trust inspires trust.

"…Midoriya, talk-"

The ones turned before death have better conditioned cells, and their personality is suppressed. It's a win-win!

There was blood on his teeth, in his mouth- the concrete ripped his melted skin away in chunks as he was dragged- No – that's carpet, that's glass, the metal of a train- pain shooting like fire up from the base of his spine, pinned down, helpless- no, that's Izuku, holding him, gently- sharp nails digging into his hips, rhythmic agony splitting his insides apart- gentle hands holding his, ice on his forehead, thumb caressing his cheek with kind arrhythmia- Come on, focus-

"…Hitsugaya-kun, can you hear me?"

It was faint, cutting through the static of his own broken cries. Hitsugaya clung to it, gasping for breath he didn't have- no, he could breathe, he could see, he was – well, not fine, but at least not dying, not helpless to prevent his own destruction. He needed more than a voice-

"…heart…beat?"

The ground shifted, Madarame now bleeding beneath him, the air soft like cotton on his cheek and ear, a soft hand on his face, a hand with ice on his brow.

Come on, almost there.

The soft, rhythmic pulse of a human heart, slow and steady. It flickered and was hard to hear, the Eleventh Division dying at his jerking, unwilling hands, but it was there. He listened, trying to see steel and rows of seats instead of dying men, and slowly everything started to clear, his own shaking hands caught by Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. Todoroki had one palm flat over his forehead, frost clinging to the pale fingertips. Toushiro let out a shuddering breath as the flashback receded, his heart fluttering in his ribcage like a trapped bird. He'd fallen from his seat onto the floor, or been pulled down, and he sat curled in Izuku's lap, his head cradled gently to the other teenager's chest.

Kirishima was kneeling on the floor as well, holding his ankles firmly – had he been thrashing, been fighting against the enemies only he could see? – but Iida was standing, speaking hurriedly to a worried conductor. The wild gesticulations were gone, Iida's obvious concern overtaking his overzealous nature. Toushiro waited until the conductor hurried off before he blinked and shifted, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that Izuku was cuddling him.

"I'm okay…" he choked out, catching their attention. "I'm okay."

Kirishima let him go first, and he stayed limp, trying to regain himself. Izuku kept holding him, one muscular arm around his waist, one cradling the side of his cheek. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki let go gently, dropping his hands into his lap, but Izuku didn't relinquish his hold. Gratitude rose up in his chest, unbidden, and shame suddenly bit deep into his mind, shame at the fact that Izuku's grip had become something to ground him in reality.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, shaken but no longer shaking. "I…I want you all to trust me so…so I was trying to make myself trust you all first but the words don't…won't come…"

Kirishima leveled a surprised look his way, red eyes turning very round. Hitsugaya choked hard on his words, fighting his tongue and thickening pride with every ounce of logic he could throw at himself. Izuku wouldn't betray him – he hadn't yet, and Toushiro knew where he lived. Kirishima was friends with the rudest kid in the class and still managed to smile all the time and be nice to everyone. Yaoyorozu had gone out of her way to replace his entire wardrobe out of concern. Todoroki was constantly questioning him respectfully, which was unusual in itself, and had stood up to his own father to help Toushiro. And Iida had seen him in Hosu and hadn't said anything, caught between friendship and the law.

If he started talking, opened up to them to deepen their trust, he knew logically that it wasn't very likely that any of these teenagers would betray his trust. None of them had that kind of deceptive, cruel streak which could validate his paranoia. But every fiber of his soul screamed to retreat, to back away, to slap off Izuku's protective grip on his torso and face.

"…Um, what do you mean that you were trying to make us trust you by trusting us first?" Kirishima asked quietly, his sharp teeth pricking his lower lip. Iida stood perfectly still, staring in surprise, his deep ocean stare shrinking to pinpricks of beaded blue as he realized what Hitsugaya was doing. Izuku sucked in a sharp breath next to his ear but stayed quiet, that human heart still beating strong and steady in a firm chest. Toushiro felt the chill of trembling panic quiver down his spine again as he brushed over those memories.

"…I wanted…I wanted to tell you why I'm like this," he forced out, cutting through his paranoia with sheer willpower. Instantly the hyperalert fear that kept him alive in battle flooded his veins, his pulse speeding up violently, and he had to struggle to control his breathing. "Why I'm willing to do things you won't and shouldn't do. I need you all to trust me for this plan to work. Otherwise…otherwise it's sunk. But I can't expect trust from you if I won't return it."

Izuku's grip on his waist tightened incrementally, the hand on his cheek shifting to cradle the back of his head, pale fingers weaving hesitantly into his fluffy white hair. The teenager's chest rose and fell beneath Hitsugaya's ear as he took a deep breath.

"You don't have to say anything, Hitsugaya-kun," Izuku said firmly, and though Toushiro couldn't see his face he was more than aware of the iron glint probably present in those large green eyes. Slowly, Hitsugaya raised his gaze, passing over Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, and Kirishima before landing on Iida. He shook his head, acknowledging Izuku's statement for what it was.

"I know…but I need you to understand me. To trust me. And trust is a two way street," Toushiro replied, gritting his teeth, mind racing against the illogical panic pumping through his veins. He could feel himself starting to shake again, adrenaline like fire in his blood, the intentional recall of the moment of his turning wreaking havoc on his body's fight-or-flight response.

Iida stared, then bit his lower lip.

"It's…it's that important that we trust you blindly?"

Toushiro nodded, letting out a forced breath, fists starting to tighten, his knuckles starting to whiten.

"I need you to unreservedly agree to this plan without knowing what it is and agree to follow my every instruction without question," he said. "For your own safety, and for mine and Bakugo's. I need you all to know wholeheartedly that I would never do anything to hurt you. Never. Not after…after…"

The words stuck in his throat, lodging crossways like an obnoxious fishbone. He snarled inwardly.

I am not a freaking coward, scared of shadows. Deep breaths, relax your shoulders, and take the plunge.

"…several years ago, when I was about ten, my people and I were attacked by another race of non-humans called the Quincy who declared war on us and the Hollows," he began. Almost immediately he felt himself start to calm down, the initial attack by the Quincy an easy topic compared to his initial encounter with Giselle. Everything cleared, and he shifted slightly away from Izuku, not shaking the other teenager off but creating just enough distance that he felt somewhat independent. The five with him made small sounds of shock, obviously not expecting that.

"The Quincy caught us by surprise – infiltrating our headquarters and slaughtering hundreds before we had the chance to respond. The leaders of my society were targeted, elite Quincy warriors called Sternritter sent to deal with our thirteen captains and their subordinates. And somehow, these Quincy had developed the technology to steal our powers. I…I lost most of my ice and storm abilities that way. And that separation…there's nothing like it for a human. I'd prefer to lose an arm or even to lose the ability to walk over going through that again."

He could still remember the sudden void that opened in his heart, the lifeless nothing suddenly suffusing him like a disease spreading across a lush plain, killing everything in sight. Losing Hyourinmaru had been nauseating. But that wasn't what he was focusing on. Not now.

"But with my power sealed or stolen…I was walking helpless against any Sternritter, and I…I encountered one who had managed to offset our strongest man, the Captain-Commander. I…He's why I can't stand fire. Midoriya, the burn scars on my chest…those are from him. I managed to drive him off and defeat one of his allies after a scientist working on our side discovered how to shatter the technology that stole our powers, but I collapsed shortly after that."

He'd glossed over all of the fight with Bazz-B, mostly because he didn't think he could handle talking about two of his most vivid memories in the same moment. But now it was time to talk about his turning, the moment he had felt through the blur of pain and injury his control over his own body evaporate in flame. He bit his tongue – tasted blood.

"A Sternritter named Giselle Gewelle found me," He knew his hands were shaking, knew his voice was trembling, but he forced himself to keep going, to keep talking even though he was a disintegrating mess in Izuku's grip. "I…I don't remember much. Just…just the taste of her blood in my mouth and…and feeling like my body was being torn apart from the inside. Then…I must have blacked out, and I don't know for how long. But when I came to- Fuck."

Without thinking he lunged forward, Giselle's smile leering at him from where Todoroki had been a moment prior. Izuku caught him, pinning his arms to his sides, and Toushiro grunted, ducking his head and closing his eyes against the leering giggle of the Quincy who had turned him into a pretty, fragile doll.

"I can't stop seeing her," he snarled, not particularly surprised to realize that he was choking back tears. "When I came to I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything except follow her. I was a prisoner in my own body, helpless to obey her every whim. And she preened, dressed me up in an enemy uniform, played with my hair like I was some life-size china doll. That was her ability. She bled on people, forced them to drink her blood or worse…and they became her zombies. I was one of them. Then…then she…she ordered me to follow her into battle."

You can come out, Captain!~

"I…I…she…" he couldn't get the words out around his swollen tongue, couldn't fight through the shaking terror grasping hold of his mind. He was starting the hear the screams of the Eleventh Division grunts he'd cut down, Ayasagewa's cry of rage as he gored Madarame through the spine-

"Shh, Hitsugaya-kun, you are safe here. That Giselle individual cannot hurt you any longer."

He could still hear Iida's hurried voice, hear Izuku's heartbeat even through the murk of dying shinigami and his own dragging limbs, the poison in his blood burning. He kept his eyes closed.

"She…made me slaughter over sixty of my own people before I was stopped. And I was conscious for all of it, watching from inside my own frozen corpse, trapped screaming in my own mind as I cut my friends and allies down…and when I finally started to regain feeling, finally started to be able to respond, to talk…it was like nothing had meaning. Like I had lost of sense of up and down, of what my oaths meant, of what morals were. I just…I couldn't care, and I have never felt that frightened of myself before."

There was a sudden silence from his friends, a horrified pause, and Izuku's grip around his waist and shoulders suddenly tightened, pulling him in close. Toushiro gasped for air, for air not in his burning lungs, wheezing weakly, clawing at the stone and rubble of the broken buildings around him- no, concentrate, listen for Izuku's heartbeat- the scent of iron tang and cold breath of diamond dust spiking through- no, that was smoky cedarwood, that was steel, the smell of Izuku's soap and train seats.

"I…will never, willingly or otherwise, hurt my friends or innocent people again." he whispered into Izuku's shirt, not sure if the other boy could hear above the cacophony of humans screams and crumbling stone. "I can't. Never again. So please…please trust me and my plan. Trust that I will not do anything unless it's absolutely necessary."

Finally, another sound broke through the deafening screams, a shaky sigh of defeat. Iida's voice.

"…I never thought even for a moment that you would willingly harm your friends, Hitsugaya-kun. Nor that you would harm an innocent. None of us…nobody in Class 1-A could think that of you."

The echoes of the Eleventh Division cries were fading, and with a grinding jaw Hitsugaya cracked his eyes open, determined to see through the haze of his past. It wasn't there. All he saw was Iida and Kirishima, Yaoyorozu and Todoroki, and the broad shoulder of the boy he was leaning on again, Izuku's chin resting on his head, the other boy's lower lip trembling from the feel of it. He gazed at Iida, searching the face behind the glinting lenses.

"Then please…promise me that you'll do as I say, no matter what happens."

Kirishima glanced at Iida, looking for any hint of the class representative's intentions. Yaoyorozu, for her part, turned to Todoroki, lightly biting her lower lip. Everyone seemed to be waiting on bated breath. And then Izuku's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"…Only if you promise that this plan of yours won't endanger you in any way," Izuku said fiercely. Suddenly Hitsugaya found himself pinned against the seat he'd been sitting in previously, both of Izuku's hands pinching his lean shoulders, the teenager who had been so carefully holding him just a few minutes prior glaring at him with pure iron in that sunshine stare. "Promise us that you won't kill anyone again and that you won't be throwing yourself in jail. Promise that and I'll do as you ask, no questions."

Toushiro's breath caught and he bit his tongue, not expecting that comeback. Iida and the others glanced at Izuku with measure of acceptance, each of them in turn slowly voicing their own agreement with those conditions. Suddenly the blade on his back felt heavy in a way that it never had before.

But he sighed, even as his heart shattered into fragments of ice in his chest.

If you get in my way, I can hurt you.

Nobody said the hurt had to be physical.

"I promise."

And they're off to rescue the walking bomb!