Authors Note: The next chapter as been completed after much thought, writing, re-writing and long discussions with the amazing beta. This chapter would NOT have been written without the Brittany, and so we all leave large amount of thanks and gratitude at her feet.

Mio and DreamRyuu your responses can be found at my writing journal, www (dot) community (dot) livejournal (dot) com / abrokenquill , at the end of the chapter. There is a link for it in my bio as well if for some reason the above link does not work.

A little bit more action and some plot advancement for all of you! I hope you enjoy.

And as always, I hope I didn't make Hitsu to wonky for you.

This chapter would have been up to days previous but I have had a hard time getting it to upload.

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Chapter Six

Hitsugaya braced his hands on the bottom of the couch that, in theory, he and Renji were going to lift in a few short moments. He looked up and nodded, holding his position until the man on the other side nodded as well. Identical soft grunts filled the living room as their muscles flexed and strained, and then the couch was slowly lifting from the ground. It had been a recent invention, containing a pull out chair and cup tray; Hinamori had fallen in love with it when it had first come out and had saved for about year to buy it. It was a recent enough purchase that Hitsugaya could vividly remember moving the thing in the first time and swearing to never touch it again.

Back then it had taken a week of begging and bribing to get him and Kira to move the thing in for her. It hadn't lost a bit of its weight and if she hadn't looked like a wounded puppy when they suggested leaving it, he would have already chopped and hacked the thing to bits. The only good thing was he had Renji this time and not Kira.

He grunted again as Renji's fingers slipped and they had to make a quick recovery. Matsumoto had warned them that using anything but their physical strength might damage Hinamori's favorite couch and she didn't want to have to deal with that stress. Hitsugaya was quite certain that there were several kidou spells that would have made this much easier. They finally got the thing into position and started to carefully walk it out of her rooms and the trolley that was waiting outside, with several "volunteers" prepared to push and pull the trolley loaded with her furniture to the tenth division and Hinamori's new rooms.

It took a bit more finagling and careful negotiating to get the thing to fit in the place that had been designated for it and they both slumped over the couch once it was carefully loaded to take in some much needed air. When Matsumoto had said that there that were some little things that needed to be lifted and loaded she had been under exaggerating it by quite a bit.

Besides the Couch of Doom, as Renji had taken to calling it, there was a large bookcase, table and chairs, and a huge thing of a dresser in her room. Each piece was a part of an elegant set that had been at one point or another a gift from someone, some new piece of technology that she had enjoyed so much that someone had consequently gotten it for her.

He preferred a bit more simplistic approach to things, going more for tradition and comfort than these pieces, but Hinamori had always had a bit of exotic taste. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps she didn't enjoy getting the bigger things simply so she could watch people struggle to move them. They were beautiful in their own way, but he was sure she was one of the few upper division members who held such modern tastes.

Very heavy modern tastes.

As they walked back into Hinamori's rooms both of them made a quick beeline for the pitcher of fresh water that Matsumoto had provided and Hitsugaya was keeping cold, before Matsumoto could poke her head out and give them something else to do. It was a cooler day, winter finally starting to settle in, but all the lifting and hauling that they had been doing for the last hour was starting to take its toll, both having already shed their captain's clocks in an attempt to give themselves some sort of reprieve from the heat.

He glanced over to where Matsumoto was working on the bathroom, gentle humming and muttered cursing interchanging as she continued to pack and box the things up. Hinamori was settled on a large cushion as she worked on wrapping the things that Matsumoto brought her, her small hands working slowly but steadily. She looked tired, but she was getting stronger now that she was accepting the food and remedies that the fourth division was offering her. Her consequent run through the rain had, thankfully, done her no permanent damage and the strict resting regime that Matsumoto was enforcing was doing wonders for her.

It did him good to see the shine coming back to her hair and skin. Her eyes were not sparkling yet but there was a small lifting of her mouth and her countenance was much calmer than he had seen it since she had awoken. And her fingers no longer shook the way they had been for the last couple of days.

Yes, things were looking like they were starting to improve.

He and Renji exchanged glances, their eyes going to the furniture they had left, and sighed; they had best get back to work or it was going to be quite some time before they finished. At least they weren't the ones hauling the furniture to her new room. They just had to load and unload.

A few hours later, they were both sweat soaked and ready to quit when Matsumoto voiced that there were sandwiches made if they were hungry. Renji dropped the end of the chest that he and Hitsugaya were moving with a grin.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

Hitsugaya nodded, easing his end to the ground and wiping at the sweat that was sliding down his brow and into his eyes.

"Agreed."

Hitsugaya turned and felt his brows rise in surprise when Renji moved across the room where Hinamori had been ordered to stay earlier that morning and draping an arm around her shoulders to he rub his sweaty forehead against her cheek. Her eyes went wide, squeaking before she shoved him away, her face disgusted.

"Renji, gross," she wailed in annoyance, rubbing furiously at her cheek as he shot her an amused glance before moving on towards the sandwiches.

Matsumoto arrived bearing a plate for Hinamori, handing it to her and winking at Hitsugaya.

"It's just a bit of sweat, dear," she chirped, settling beside her.

Hinamori's disgruntled expression didn't change as she took a bite of the sandwich that Matsumoto had brought her. She looked around the room quietly.

"I guess we are almost done?" she questioned after swallowing, before rubbing her cheek against her uniform her once more.

Matsumoto nodded as Hitsugaya and Renji settled on the floor next to them. "The guys have all almost all the furniture moved, and the last of the boxes are almost packed."

She nodded, her eyes moving down again and Hitsugaya sighed softly. While he had been working on paperwork that morning he had tried to figure out a way to make moving easier on her. She had lived in these rooms long enough that every inch of it had been imprinted upon by her personality and love of life and they were very much her safe haven.

With all the furniture missing and the shelves and little knick knacks that made this place Hinamori's, it looked like a cold, pale image of the warm and inviting home that it had once been. And the expression in her eyes as she looked around was enough to make him want to tell Renji to forget it and move everything back into the rooms for her.

If only things were so simple.

But that wasn't what had his attention right then.

There was something wrong with his vice-captain, Hitsugaya had realized as he watched her talk to Hinamori. She had slight lines around her mouth and her hands were gripping things a bit tighter than usual. Hinamori didn't seem to notice, and a quick glance at Renji proved that he was too concerned with the sandwiches in front of him to catch it.

So what was going on?

He continued to watch her and Hinamori as they ate, Matsumoto teasing Hinamori about the joys of sweat and Hinamori doing her best to ignore her. Hinamori didn't look stressed at all and it appeared that Matsumoto was not going to tell him what was wrong anytime soon because she refused to look at him.

He would have to question her later.

It was only after he and Renji finished off the sandwiches and started to load up the chest that it occurred to him that it was probably going to be anything but pleasant news, and would more than likely involve Hinamori.

It was some time later that he found himself finally back in his own rooms. He was tired and worn out from the combination of the early morning and the constant lifting and shifting that Matsumoto had required from them. She was determined to keep Hinamori happy and so they had moved every piece of furniture in her new rooms at least four times. Matsumoto had moved in and requested that they help her set up some of the bigger things so that Hinamori would not be tempted to try to move them on her own.

It was only when Hinamori was asleep on one of the cushions, after leaving her alone for a few minutes, that they made the unanimous decision to call it quits for the day.

It had taken a bit of negotiating to get the exhausted girl into bed, Matsumoto going ahead of them to set up the futon in her room and Hitsugaya carrying her over. Once they had her on her futon Matsumoto had shooed them out quickly, sending them on their way with promises of a possible breakfast in the morning.

He sighed, stretching carefully and sighing in satisfaction when his neck and back popped. Personally, he was just thankful that they had managed to get her moved today because tomorrow he was going to have to spend more time in the office and catch up on all the work that he had been neglecting to get her where she needed to be.

He curled up in his window seat with a hot cup of tea. Tomorrow was a new day, his constant mantra it seemed. No matter what went wrong with one day at least he had the next one to look forward to. He took a long sip of the steaming drink in his hands. Maybe tomorrow would be the day that she realized that everything was going to be alright.

He found himself at his desk working on the amounts of paperwork in front of him much earlier than he would have liked. The sun was not yet up when he sat at his desk, pen in hand. Already new piles of paperwork were awaiting him; did every other captain in the city find it impossible to sleep these days?

What had him worried was that he had seen Matsumoto wandering around earlier, heading for what looked like the fifth division. He had chalked it up to the fact that perhaps they had not gotten Hinamori something that she had wanted.

He had been hesitant at first for Hinamori to stay with her; Matsumoto had a large soft spot for the girl and he had been worried that she would be as susceptible to Hinamori's pleading looks as he was. Instead, she had pleasantly surprised him. Forcing to girl to rest, and while she was giving her things to do, label and pack boxes, it was nothing that was going to stress or tax her overwhelmed body.

The results were showing.

She had been with Matsumoto a scant three days but already she was starting to look rested; her face didn't look as shallow and exhausted and she looked to be gaining weight. Unohana had said that the effects of rest and food would be visible a bit quicker than normal because her body was going to absorb them very quickly as it tried to recover.

He was just relieved that the shaking in her hands was starting to go away, showing strength of body that simply had not been there before. Unfortunately, that did not mean that she was any better, it just meant that her body was starting to regain its former strength, slowly but surely she would get better physically. Mentally, she had only gained a small amount of ground.

Her discovery and knowledge of what Aizen had become had helped to push her into the real world, and with that came the start of the healing process. But it was that continued emotional instability that had him worried. There was no sparkle or shine in her eyes. Even the disgust of someone else's sweat, something Hinamori was known for disliking, had done little to bring a spark of any sort to her eyes.

He closed his eyes for a moment before pushing thoughts of Hinamori away from him. He needed to get to work on this paperwork or he was never going to catch up. He grabbed a new pen from the cup on his desk and began to read the paper in front of him.

At this rate it would take him weeks to get caught up.

It was well past lunch when Matsumoto finally made her appearance.

"What took you so long?" he asked, signing his name to the piece of paper in front of him.

"Captain, I need to discuss something with you."

He looked up, one brow rising in question. "Pull up a chair."

As she pulled the chair behind her desk over to the front of his he shifted the finished paperwork into a pile before turning his attention to his obviously upset vice-captain.

"What is it, Matsumoto?"

She sat a box down in front of him. "Open it," she said, motioning towards it.

He rifled through the box, one brow rising at the sight of a girl's comb, blue ribbons, and a small charm bracelet that was very obviously a token of affection. His brows lowered at the sight of a small bottle of clear liquid before he turned his eyes to Matsumoto.

"Explain."

She sighed before pulling out the charm and bottle. "I found these in this box in Hinamori's bathroom in a bottom drawer yesterday."

He nodded. "Hinamori has always had admirers Matsumoto," he said softly. "I am quite certain as a vice-captain yourself you can understand that."

She shook her head. "This is a lover's token," she said. "See the figure of a man and a woman embracing?" She motioned towards the tiny couple in the middle of the charm. "Only a man who is quite confident in his position as a lover would give this to a woman."

He felt both of his brows lower. Hinamori had had a lover? Had anyone known that? "I take it there is more?"

She nodded. "This," she said, motioning to the clear liquid bottle. "Is artificial lubrication." She flinched at the low growl he couldn't repress. There was no misunderstanding what that meant.

"What else?"

She hesitated.

"That was not a request, Matsumoto."

She sighed. "I didn't find these," she said, gesturing to the ribbons and comb.

"Who did?" Again the hesitation, and he felt his irritation rise. "Matsumoto…"

"Renji did, Captain."

His world narrowed to the ribbons and comb. Renji… if Renji had been the one to find the ribbons and the comb then there was only one person who Hinamori could have been sharing a bed with…

"You are sure?" he questioned, and again Matsumoto flinched.

"I asked Unohana," she said slowly, carefully, as if judging each word. "To be sure, and she said that it was certain that Hinamori was sharing someone's bed prior to her coma, she just wasn't sure who. The ribbons match the type Hinamori wears, and here." She pointed to a small insignia on the base of the comb. "Is a small peach, as if the comb was made for her…."

She never really had time to finish her sentence. He was up and moving before she could stop him. He had to get out. He could feel the pressure building up in his system, anger, frustration, betrayal, he didn't know. He felt his reiatsu snapping under the stress, felt it seeping into the cold air as he practically ran from his office.

It was too much too fast.

He didn't remember passing anyone, too set in his determination to get away before he did something that he was goingto regret later. He was aware of making it through the city and into the forest outside before Hyourinmaru snapped to the fore, before ice erupted through out him so fast that his head was spinning and his fury consumed him.

Even then he wasn't sure when his vision had gone white with fury, when he lost his ability to rationalize what was going on. The only thing that he was certain about was that he had made it safely from the city, from the innocents that had been in danger.

Aizen… he felt it then, a low rumble deep in his throat, the way his fingers slide through the air to grasp the hilt of Hyourinmaru. His eyes snapped with fury and as he lost his battle for control his reiatsu snapped in and then out in a rush that left him light headed.

Understanding coupled with the raw fury that threatened to overwhelm him with the knowledge that Aizen had once again pulled the wool over his eyes when it concerned Hinamori. He tried to understand the emotions that were slipping through his system with such speed. Jealousy? She had gone to him. Betrayal? She had refused to tell a soul, including the one she claimed to hold such close kinship with. Hatred? Aizen had claimed what he held most precious and he had been blind to it. He had missed the signs that should have told him the story and would have explained everything.

He pushed what emotion he could away from him, choosing instead to focus in on the absolute rage that was slipping into a spiral that would soon reach its breaking point. The temperature had been steadily falling in the last few weeks and the icy chill had only been intensified by the cold anger that was sweeping through him. He could feel Hyourinmaru stirring and he had no desire to curb the outright fury of his soul slayer. It was a shared feeling that threatened to consume them.

He unsheathed his soul slayer with the ease of hundreds of years of practice, the explosions his movements caused rocking the forest and uprooting hundreds of years of growth and stability.

He could no longer contain the emotion that he had been so carefully holding back the last couple of days. He had no desire to. He relished in the feelings that were sweeping so strongly through his blood, accepting the desire to maim and destroy the ex-captain and let it roar through him in whichever direction it chose to. It was too much, and as his shields snapped and fled before the ferocity of his wrath he felt another's presence.

He turned, a smooth graceful glide that belayed the fury within and met the concerned gaze of Captain Ukitake, sword shinning in hand. Hitsugaya smiled, a cold detached look that caused the older man's eyes to darken as well.

"Captain Hitsugaya," he said, his words calm and steady.

"I take it your offering me a chance to spar with you?" His words held the iciness of the cold that was slowly turning the forest around him into nothing but an ice field. He watched with satisfaction as the other man nodded.

He exploded into action, Hyourinmaru sliding into position as he swung at the other man. Ukitake blocked, and there was another explosion as the force of their reiatsu's met and repelled each other, and then just as quickly he was gone. He hopped that the older captain was up to the challenge right then, because he had just become his outlet for his emotions, one he desperately needed.

It was a fast game of shunpo and blocked strikes as Hitsugaya attacked. There was no grace, no motion of elegance and gentle contacts as there was in training. This was not a session of aggression against compassion or someone seeking revenge, it was a battle between two accustomed to each others movements and style.

Only this time there was no control, no holding back in order to keep the other one from feeling each others true force. It was all or nothing, white hot rage fighting against anyone and everything. There were lines around Ukitake's mouth as he fought to hold up against his fellow captains rage, but his hands were steady and his gaze as sure as his footsteps, his movements quick, thousands of years of training and ability rising to the fore as he met the gaze of the angry young captain. He had the advantage of years and the power that came with those years while Hitsugaya had nothing but his own rage fuelling his power.

It was only when another sword blocked his and he was turning his attention to a much bigger opponent that he felt himself surfacing from the blind rage. Zaraki Kenpachi smiled at him and he felt his own smile returning, no less pretty or merciful as he eyed his new opponent. So that was why he had not seen Shunsui… he glanced at Ukitake and nodded at the hard breathing captain before turning back to Zaraki.

"Zaraki," he said.

The man nodded. "I here you have a little steam to work off." If anything the man's smile widened. "And so I thought I would volunteer to keep you company."

The rage shifted into something else he couldn't name, and his own lips rose in agreement to the blatant challenge. He watched with interest as the man's reiatsu rose and he increased the outflow of his own power, his vision hazing slightly with the force he was releasing. He was barely aware of the trees that were snapping or the cold that was freezing the air as Hyourinmaru made himself known to those that had dared to try to calm his fury.

He shifted and then Zaraki was coming and it was again a dance of steel against steel. Only it was no longer the touch and go game he and Ukitake had played. Each strike was followed closely by another as they worked hard to prove their dominance over the other.

Swords met with flashes of temper and power, each strike another blow to the forest around. Yet they continued, drawing each other to the brink and pushing beyond the fury and the anger that had taken root so deeply until they were simply an extension of the blades that they wielded. They were blind and deaf to anything but the screams and cries of their swords, demands for blood and victory that neither could ignore even as shikai's were pulled down from the air and slapped against each other.

Zaraki snapped his sword out and his brows rose in surprise as a chain curled around the blade of his soul slayer and Hitsugaya halted the blow that would have impaled him. Hitsugaya smirked, one brow rising in a blatant challenge, and Zaraki laughed, a strange sound in the midst of their field, but appropriate given the circumstances.

"I had heard of this little trick of yours," he grinned, a feral smile that would have made the hair on Hitsugaya's neck and shoulders stand up had he not been consumed by his own battle lust. Zaraki laughed again, sending a blast of reiatsu through the ice that was slowly consuming his arm.

"I am impressed." The ice snapped off with a click. "I had not thought it fast enough to get around my arm."

Hitsugaya smirked, a slow quirking of his mouth that had Zaraki throwing back his head to laugh once more. Both were breathing hard as they stared at each other, a brief respite hard earned for both of them.

Hitsugaya wiped the blood that was sliding down his forehead and mixing with his sweat away from his eyes, all the while watching his opponent. But that did not seem to matter to the man in front of him. The rumors of his love of blood and battle had always been accounted as true, but it seemed to go much deeper than that. Zaraki Kenpachi was a fighter, born and bred as such, yet no matter how he longed for a fight or enjoyed it, Hitsugaya had never once seem him randomly attack anyone who could not defend himself or go for an innocent.

He smirked at the older man as he took a quick stock of both of them.

Both were bruised, cut, bleeding, and he wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't broken a finger in his left hand. He couldn't make himself care. He knew he was caught up in the battle lust, the need to attack again and again until his opponent declared him the victor, to continue on until the ground was stained with blood and he alone stood tall. The never-changing smile on Zaraki's expression promised that he felt the same.

And then there swords were meeting again.

All he knew was the strike and turn of the blade, of the ice that was flowing so hotly

through his veins and the anger that was only now starting to tap down, to slow, only to be replaced by the desire to win and destroy, to defeat the man in front of him. A captain's greatest strength was his ability to slide into the need for battle and the strength that he drew from so deep within but it was also their greatest downfall.

Captains remained cold and aloof during battle because they had to in order to maintain control and not lose themselves in the bloodlust that could strike them so suddenly. They had to maintain a level of control and excel at the ability to move past their own desires and hatred. He was failing miserably, no longer caring who or what came between him and his target.

He could not fight past his own self-loathing, could not fight the desperation that was settling across his shoulders as surely as a lover's warmth, could not fight the understanding that this above all other things would stay with him. That he had not seen the depths of deception that Aizen had sunk to in order to maintain his hold over Hinamori.

He had not guessed, could not have guessed, that this would have been his final act, the one thing he could not truly move past. He was no fool, he knew that Hinamori had her fare share of lovers and tokens; she was a vice-captain and a beautiful woman, after all. Her closest friends during her years of training had been Renji and Kira, two of the hardest partiers and seducers of women he had seen in the academy. But not once had he guessed that she had made the transfer from simple vice-captain to warming her captain's bed.

Repeatedly, for who knew how long.

He bit and struck against Kenpachi's sword as he fought a losing battle within himself. In his mind, he saw her tears when she had lashed out at him the first time, her disbelief in his words when he denied his involvement, the horror and the anger that she had produced when he had tried so hard to keep her safe.

He saw her constant struggle to go after the man that the rest of them thought dead and avenge him, her fierce need to remain in her dream world, and her grief at realizing she could never return to him. He had known she cared, known she loved him, but this… this was the final push towards the slow slide to hell that he could not stop.

And so he continued to strike, again and again, at himself and at Hinamori while Zaraki met every strike and every snarl of fury that rose from him. And then just as suddenly as it started, it was over. Both men pulled back, in silent acknowledgement and Hitsugaya sheathed Hyourinmaru, the edge of his fury abated. He sighed at the sight of the decimated forest, nodding to the bleeding man and receiving a smile in return.

"Do you need assistance?" Zaraki questioned.

It was a kind, if unusual, offer from the older man, but he shook his head. Zaraki nodded and as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, off to receive treatment from Unohana, no doubt.

He turned and walked along the carnage that his fury had produced, his eyes glazed over, ignoring the blood that was oozing from countless cuts and the pain that they brought. He was numb, cold, and yet exhilarated all at once. He settled his long frame on one of the many boulders his rampage had created, hands resting on his knees, and delved inward to once again contain the emotions that were regrouping. Hyourinmaru was content, sated by the battles with Ukitake and Kenpachi, leaving Hitsugaya to cope with the repercussions.

He was still reeling from the information that Matsumoto had given him so carefully earlier that day. He looked up at the stars that had come out sometime during his fight and he was suddenly relived that he had managed to get out somewhere deep in the heart of their world before unleashing his gift.

A gift, or a curse, he no longer knew. He raised his fingers in slight wonder at the moisture that was still dripping down his face. Tears? He didn't know. He could not feel them, all he could feel was an endless numbness at his own foolishness. He should have been preparing himself for this information, should have understood where Hinamori's loyalties had lain and how far her devotion for her captain would have taken her.

He wondered, briefly, if she had enjoyed her time with her captain. Did she treasure it as he treasured the memories he had of her? Did she still dream of him and cry out his name in the night when he was not there to hold her? He didn't know, didn't want to know.

He loved her.

He knew that. It was not a simple fancy for his childhood friend. It was not an easy, one-sided love of soft looks and gentle words that would last for eons and never hold anything of value for her. It was not a calm, complacent adoration that settled gently in his chest as he watched and admired her from afar.

It was a devotion that ran so deeply he would become whatever she asked of him. He would bend the stars and reach into the very depths of hell to make her happy. It was the knowledge that she belonged to him as much he belonged to her and had since the very first smile she had bestowed upon him. He would kill any who harmed her. He had killed to defend her. He was no longer the boy she had known. He did not fancy himself as a brother wanting to protect his sister. He knew better. He knew what she could do to him, what she would do to him, what she was doing to him.

And so it bit at him, hard and deep, that he had not seen the same expression in her eyes that had reflected back at him during his moments of weakness. It was the same expression that Matsumoto had given Gin before he had left her. It was the same smile that graced Shunsui's mouth when Nanao was not paying particular attention to him. He knew that look.

And he had missed it. When it would have given him all the answers he needed, the last piece of the puzzle, the final clue that had proven, in the end, to be his undoing.

"Captain Hitsugaya?"

He turned at the sound of Matsumoto's voice, her words strange and quiet after the lingering reverberation of battle and rage.

He nodded before turning his gaze back to the stars in silent acceptance of her move to sit with him. She was offering him comfort in the only way she knew how, and as her smaller hand slid over his he grasped it lightly, for a scant second, squeezing gently before releasing. A wordless thank you.

"I wish I could have given you better news this afternoon."

"It had to come out sooner or later."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be."

He felt his lips quirk at the familiarity of the situation. During the war they had been each others anchors in a world of rage and hate. He had sat with her like this on many occasions, drawing strength from the silence and knowledge that neither was truly alone.

She was the sister he had lost when he feel in love with Hinamori and came to realize it. And he was the support she needed, the sole male in her life that did not see blond hair and a chest size three times bigger than her hips. She looked at him and did not see the prodigy that had finally grown up; she saw a captain and a friend just as he saw a vice-captain and a friend.

They had drawn a fine line carefully in the sand, a line that had blurred during the war. It was visible in all the captains and vice-captains that had survived the war together; knowledge and understanding of each other's movements and decisions without the need for explanations. Captains had watched over their second-in-commands while vice-captains defended their captains with a brutal determination that had saved both in all divisions, more than once.

Partnerships had been formed, allies and friendships, the knowledge that someone was always there to guard your back. It still hung in the air between them. It would always be the silent reminder of a war they had almost lost, even as it lent them strength.

He sighed and stood, loath to leave the comfort of familiar ground, but he would have to face Hinamori sooner or later. Matsumoto stood with him and turned as he did towards the city, falling into the familiar step just behind him.

"What did you do with Hinamori?"

"Unohana took her this afternoon in order to do a physical. When Captain Ukitake disappeared, and then Captain Zaraki and I could sense Hyourinmaru, I realized what had to be going on and came to see if I could find you once I was free of my duties."

He nodded, each step that he took back to the city edging him further towards control.

"I didn't think I would need to bring a healer for you." She frowned at him, her eyes moving to his hand. "Did you break your fingers?" she demanded, eyeing his abused hand with disapproval.

He looked down at himself and blinked. He was covered in dirt, his cloak was bloodstained, he could only imagine how much of it was his, and his death god robes were ripped and torn in several places.

It seemed that a bit more damage had been done than he had realized.

"I didn't notice," he said finally, realizing that indeed, he had broken his index finger and had come close to breaking a few more by the discolored look of them.

She sighed. "Of course you didn't notice," she muttered. "We are going to the fourth division and we are doing it right now, Captain."

He heaved a sigh. This would probably be one of those things that she would not let him live down, most likely starting tomorrow.

He turned his gaze skyward, knowing as he did so that every step he took was one step closer to Hinamori and to the reality that the morning would bring with it. He closed his eyes briefly and this time when he sought the ice it flowed through him, returning to him as easily as it had abandoned him earlier. He would control his emotions. He would contain the raging fury. He had to.

And so he allowed Matsumoto to steer him towards the fourth division while she muttered under her breath about the stubbornness and stupidity of captains. His lips quirked in amusement, Unohana would most likely have many things to say to him about his foolishness, and for involving Zaraki, but it would be worth it. Hyourinmaru was slumbering and control was his once more, however limited it was.

Perhaps he would send Yachiru a fruit basket in thanks as Zaraki would want nothing of the sort. Ukitake, he would simply thank. If he started to give the old captain food he would never break that silly habit of his of randomly giving him candy. Hitsugaya felt his eye twitch at the thought.

Tomorrow was a new day.