Disclaimer: Bleach is Kubo Tite's work. Borrowing.

Random Babblings

October 19 / Birds in your garden Alternate Universe

The courtyard was tattered by the angular shadows of the artistically trimmed cypresses. Motionless and deserted, it fell to waiting, a setting of a nightmare waiting to play out—a romantic tale's plausible, too. Of course, often times the romantic turns tragic, and the beginnings of a bad dream always start like a pleasant one. But they were rushed and she didn't get to savor the sight of the emperor's lawns, only glimpses of what must have been breathtaking beauty under sunlight.

There was babbling, like a bunch of women exchanging gossips. She looked to her side and saw it was just a fountain; she couldn't decipher what was represented by the exquisitely carved marble, devoured by the darkness, but she found its babbling obtrusive and couldn't help frowning upon its flippancy in light of the empire's dire situation.

The Prince of the northernmost city-state stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?" she asked. "Toushirou-sama?"

"That bird," he said. "A nightingale."

Matsumoto cocked her head to one side, straining to hear past the continuous gurgling of water. "It is, sire."

"The same one this morning, singing outside her window."

"Possibly, sire. Do you want me to catch it? I've been itching to clasp onto things by their necks for days, ever since the former lord of the city-state of Lotus escaped my clutches. One of my character defects, you know."

Hitsugaya Toushirou said nothing. This was easier for him, see. His usual expression was serious, his usual answers cool and unaffected—being taciturn was his way of life. On the other hand, her normal mood was mischievous and light. Much, much harder for her to stay in character. Too much, she felt, but she tried her best.

"I am eager to bestow reprisal on those who have disturbed our empire, my lord. My breasts speak to me so passionately. Look, how they quiver with ire!"

The prince did not look, but neither did he deliver the suave retort he usually would have. "Control yourself, Matsumoto." His warning was serious. "We might not even talk about the three traitors in this council."

"Impossible, sire; they are the enemies. We counsel for war." She paused. "And the nightingale?"

He took a moment to answer. "Leave it be."

"We can't cage its beauty," she agreed sadly. "Just because beauty in our lives have flown away."

He glowered at her in irritation. "If you're going to be in that mood all evening..."

Matsumoto's eyes widened in mock guilt. "Forgive me. I have been carried away by the tragic air of my lord's conversation."

"Oh, shut up. You made the bird fly away."

Matsumoto Rangiku smiled then, bowed slightly in respect of his strength. "Thank you, sire."

"Matsumoto..." The prince shook his head, sighing in irritation at being cornered with his emotions. "Stop dawdling or we'll get late."

"My ass is weighing me down, I'm afraid," she observed mournfully, poking her derriere experimentally.

"I don't really care, dammit. Your ass can do whatever it damn pleases."

They left the fountain giggle over its little private jokes and the nightingale elsewhere, singing its little heart out.

1714