Resignation

For Xiarong since she's way too good to me.

She looked worn lying on the bed he had placed her on. Rangiku stood next to him, thinking her own thoughts and cradling her sprained wrist. He was so very grateful that she had decided to follow him rather then return to the squad barracks. If she had been an iota slower, Hinamori would be dead now because of his own stupidity.

'Hinamori,' he thought silently. 'How could you believe I could be so callous as to take Aizen away form you?' It was little solace that it had not always been so in the beginning. His hand fisted at his side, as she murmured in her sleep, tears leaking from her closed eyelids. She was worn and grief stricken. The hurt must be unbearable and all because Ichimaru Gin, Aizen's former lieutenant had no respect for the living or the dead.

He couldn't pinpoint the day it happened, that desire crept into his heart each time he saw her approach their former home dressed in student robes. His heart was no stranger to the erratic thumping that was a common ailment when she sat next to him. It made it difficult for him to hear the strange tales she had to tell of hollows and the different ways to kill them and all the funny mishaps her students fell into trying to master the skills they needed to harness their spirit energy.

The feeling of brotherly care suffered a subtle transition to something just a little bit more, just a little bit deeper then what he had grown accustomed to, during those first few weeks apart. It had only grown stronger, twining its lethal tendrils around his soul, building an unbreakable barrier between it and his heart as the years past.

He had met Hinamori a few months after finding his way to the other side with the help of a death slayer. She had welcomed him with open arms into her family, urging him to play at silly games of tag and challenging him to seed spitting contests over watermelon. She had eased his transition from lonely waif to younger brother. It was something he had lacked back when he was technically alive and never knew he craved until she opened his eyes to the possibility.

At first, he had only known disdain for all things female, thinking them too, well, girly for him to think twice about. He was a man after all. One did not play with girls, their dolls, or their tea sets. It was an unspoken creed he steadfastly lived by. At least, until she taught him that girls could be just as smart, just as fast, and just as unafraid as boys.

It was after one such race for speed that she first called him Whitey-chan. He protested, of course, but inside his heart, he didn't really mind it. He felt like he belonged with this girl that drove away his loneliness. He just didn't want anyone else to think they could call him whitey-chan.

But, it took him over a year after she started training to become a Death God before he realized just how much she meant to him. It happened the day he seriously began to devise ways of stringing the dear Captain up or punching his face until the dear captain was knocked unconscious and a hundred other methods to injury him. He considered doing just about anything to prevent Hinamori's crush on Captain Aizen from developing into something deeper. It was then, he realized he was losing something he never had to begin with.

It wasn't until Captain Aizen saved her that his world began to crumble. It was all he could do to welcome her visits without giving her the cold shoulder, his unspoken permission to love another other then him, to spend her time devoting herself to something more then just him. He knew it hurt her to find him so angry, so cold and distant. It hurt him to see her run crying back to the death school, to her new friends, to Aizen. It hurt him, because he knew she was better off there then always returning to him.

And then the true pain set in. Depression clouded his steps, settled into his skin. He was Hitsugaya Toushirou, and he was less then that. His days descended into darkness while he wallowed in self-pity because she took a hint and stopped coming by. It was the coldness in his heart that made him yearn to follow after her, just to see her, just to hear her talk one more time.

He missed her. His heart was broken, but at least it still beat within his chest, taunting him with the knowledge it was his choice she was gone. In the end, he did the only thing that would still the self-recriminations. He followed her to the Death God Academy, passing the tests with ease. After all, there was little else to do but study when she no longer came by to distract him.

He had wandered the halls for hours, trying to catch a glimpse of Hinamori, but she was to far advanced in her studies. He had to be satisfied with the gossip that told him she was top in her class for demon magic and a passably good swordsman. He even learned that she was slated to join her mentor's squad, Aizen's 5th squad.

He was happy for her, really, truly, but the band squeezing his heart wouldn't let him rest. Instead, he threw himself into his studies to become the best Death God he could be. Somewhere, deep within himself, he hoped that someday he could become good enough for Hinamori, better then Aizen could ever be.

It wasn't until that day that he realized he was pushing himself for the wrong reasons, that he was doing it for himself and not for her as any man worth his salt would do. It took a certain captain to drive that point home. It was then he realized he never would be good enough for the rising star of 5th squad.

Hitsugaya closed his eyes against the vision of Hinamori's tears before his eyes, seeking a deeper vision, a darker vision within himself. His memories came back, of that night nearly fifteen years ago.

It had been filled with the chill of winter's coming. The moon was only half full, barely lending him sight to see by as he practiced his katanas, harnessing the power of his soul slayer and striving to push himself. The clearing he had chosen for his own was charred with demon magic, testament to his still erratic skills. It wasn't until he rather clumsily finished a particularly difficult series of attacks and parries thatAizen stepped out of the woods.

He had attacked him, shoving him backwards, keeping him on the defensive. Hitsugaya blood boiled again at the memory, the suddenness of it all. He had been played with, toyed with, given bruise upon bruise both to his pride and his body. It wasn't until his back was pressed against a tree that he finally found the resolve to fight back, the anger flowing out of his body as he thought of the injustice in his life, the utter desolation he harbored deep inside himself because Hinamori choose to love someone unattainable for herself.

It was then he struck, sending a wave of soul energy crashing against Aizen. The captain was engulfed in a coldness that mirrored the state of the young student's feelings. He smiled then, resuming his attacks, now on the defensive, now attacking again.

He had found what he came to learn from the promising student before him. He had watched his squad member's longing gaze when they passed the school. He had seen the droop in her shoulders when she sighted the serious kid in front of him. He had needed to find out what was wrong with Hinamori, because he had discovered that he had grown to care for her just a little more then a squad captain should.

But, he could never acknowledge the feelings she wore on her sleeve. It would go against his moral fiber to fraternize with another in his squad no matter how much he may desire it. Perhaps, one-day, if she decided to seek ambitions road, then they could share in each other's warmth, but not now.

Eyes flashing with resolve, he knocked the sword from Hitsugaya's hands and brought him down to his knees with the same blow. Panting filled the air, mostly from Hitsugaya's belaboring body.

Aizen stepped back, sheathing his soul slayer silently. "You did well Toushirou, but you need to do better if you want to become a captain like me."

Hitsugaya's head jerked back, eyes wide with disbelief. Few knew he desired to acquire a captaincy. His eyes narrowed as he wiped his mouth of the blood that dotted the corner, evidence of one of the many successful blows the captain had managed to strike. "What's it to you anyways?" he said defiantly, unwilling to back down yet even though he was soundly defeated.

"It's nothing to me, but I thought you might want to have the skills and power necessary to protect Hinamori." Aizen gazed into the white-haired boys ice blue eyes, hoping that he had not misread the boy's and Hinamori's body language. Even his talent for uncovering secrets could fail him.

Hitsugaya's body stilled, breathing a forgotten skill. He had forgotten Hinamori in his drive to succeed, to better himself. He had forgotten that even if he did someday manage to one-up Aizen, Hinamori could get hurt in the process. He had forgotten. His heart ached with shame as he laboriously got to his feet, swaying slightly with fatigue.

"What's it to you?" he asked again, needing to know why the captain would choose to point out his mistake.

The silence grew as the chill of night deepened. Finally, Aizen broke eye contact, choosing to focus on the cloud covered moon above their heads. "I cannot promise that I will always be around to protect her if I wish to be fair to all my squad members," he said at last. "I was hoping that you might be able to do what I cannot."

His eyes returned to Toushirou's still skeptical ones. "Would not two captains be better then one?" he asked, trying to hint at his feelings and the boundaries he could not overstep, even for Hinamori.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened a fraction, knowledge sinking into the very marrow of his bones. Aizen nodded his head empathically. "I see you understand. I am willing to do what I can to help you reach bankai. You have the skills, and the drive; you just need to practice against someone more experienced."

Aizen watched compassionately as the boy tried to stand a little taller, anger warring with bitter truth. "If you accept my offer, I will train you every night here in this clearing until your soul slayer decides to take matters into its own hands."

Hitsugaya nodded his head, barely choking out a "yes" before the captain turned and walked away from him, disappearing into the forest shadows. It was that night that he realized just how twisted this triangle was that he found himself in. But he would do his best. He had a new goal to work towards. Rather then jealousy driving him, he would let love be the hammer that tempered him, even if he did have to bury it deep within his soul.

Movement startled him from his thoughts. It was a hell butterfly bearing a message for his lieutenant. Shock covered Matsumoto's face as she interpreted the silent flap of wings for him. There were only twenty-six hours until Rukia's execution. It had changed, again. He had so little time left to stop Ichimaru from destroying everything, from destroying soul society and everyone within it.

Resolve filtered through the shock as he turned to march out of the room. He would do what he had to do to protect Hinarmori, even if it meant dying in the process against a weapon he could not hope to defeat.

"Just believe in us, Hinamori. Believe that neither Aizen nor I would ever put you in danger."