It was predictable, really. It was only logical that Matsumoto would quickly make herself familiar with the vast array of liquor available in the human world.
How exactly she bought all that booze, Hitsugaya didn't know. She was, after all, posing as an underage high school student and no ordinary law-abiding, moral retailer would sell her anything of the sort. It probably had something to do with her chest, but it was something he'd rather not think about too much.
He had grown used to Matsumoto's hearty consumption of sake in Soul Society long ago, but there was a lot more choice in the human world. Annoying though it was, the strawberry blonde's drunken ramblings at ungodly hours of the night were certainly nothing new.
The real trouble came partially thanks to Orihime. The bubbly girl's cooking, which could be described as "unique" at most polite, soon married itself to Matsumoto's drinking habit. Orihime had made the mistake of mentioning in passing one day that there are a lot of recipes (though Orihime had long since abandoned any meal with instructions) that call for wine or sherry.
Matsumoto developed an interest in cooking the very next day.
The sight of both of them in aprons, leaning intently over a stove, was truly horrifying to Hitsugaya. There were times where it seemed as though if you put them together, maybe you would get the equivalent of half a brain. He knew Matsumoto was actually intelligent, but she clearly did not care much for showing it, and despite Orihime's good grades, the pixie-dust world of her own that she lived in destroyed any hope of the appearance of intelligence.
He just knew this could only end in a headache at best and a catastrophe at worst.
The conversation coming from the kitchen did not inspire confidence. Orihime was singing a little song about all the leftovers from previous meals in the fridge (which would probably end up as toppings on whatever concoction was being made, no matter how inappropriate), and Matsumoto was trying to ask about the spatulas while trying not to set herself ablaze.
"Rangiku-san! Wouldn't it taste good with applesauce on top?" Orihime half asked in her usual flowery voice while all but crawling into the depths of the refrigerator.
Hitsugaya cringed. He didn't even know quite what they were attempting to make, but he was 99 sure that applesauce would not improve it. He was staying well away from the area, lest they try to get him involved in this ill-conceived culinary misadventure, but he found he was getting rather bored and somewhat irritated with only the clattering of pans and opening of cabinets to listen to.
Braving the no doubt soon-to-be disaster area, he stepped into the kitchen.
"Hey," he said. "Have you seen the newspaper around here?"
Matsumoto turned, pouring cheap white wine into a pot. As she cheerily began "Oh, I think I saw it on the back of the-", she became too distracted and poured the liquor onto a running burner, seconds after Orihime had removed the pot from it.
Orihime just had to have a gas oven.
The resulting fireball left the entire kitchen in black and white; black from burning and smoke and white from Orihime's pathetic attempt at using a fire extinguisher.
"M... My kitchen...!" Orihime stammered, staring at the now snow-like appearance of the area.
"It's his fault!" Matsumoto said, indicating Hitsugaya. "He distracted me!"
"It's not my fault you can't pay attention to what you're doing!" Hitsugaya growled, brushing the fake snow that had come from the fire extinguisher of his clothes.
Matsumoto pouted and started to say something, but she suddenly looked over at the blackened stove instead. "Oh hey! The wine is still okay!" she pronounced cheerily. She took a swig straight from the bottle with absolutely no dignity.
"MATSUMOTO!"
The resulting damages cost 80,000 yen to repair. Matsumoto was forbidden to attempt cooking ever again.
