Author: Robyn
Story: Awakenings
Chapter: Seven
Authors Notes: I am sorry that this took so long. To make a long story short: school. The next chapter is written and the one after that is almost written. Two more chapters.
Enjoy. 17 pages of goodness.
He turned slowly, his eyes searching the gloom for what he knew was hiding there. When he had first entered this landscape he had caught the briefest of glimpses of what he was chasing. He knew it was human; the flash of skin and delicate foot that he had only briefly spotted had given him that much information. But his prey was clever, quick to move, and quicker to find cover to hide behind when he came too close.
It had been some time since he had seen or heard anything, however, and he was starting to believe that he had lost them.
He turned at a crackle in the bush and reached for Hyourinmaru. He blinked in surprise when his hands grasped at nothing. He was sure that his sword had been strapped to his back earlier. There was a slight giggle and he hesitated only a moment before pushing through the leaves carefully. His footsteps fell silently on the earth beneath his feet. It was the quiet gasp and muffled exclamation that told him he had been discovered first, even as the sound of a body slipping through the branches caught his ear.
It was the soft sound of air displacing that told him that they were using Shunpo.
He followed.
He wasn't sure how long he chased his prey. He caught a few glimpses of a silhouette when the moonlight would occasionally cut through the night sky but he had no luck in getting any closer for all his feet were carrying him at his swiftest.
It was a girl, he was sure of it, but he couldn't seem to pinpoint who it was. The long dark hair waved behind her when she paused to see if he was still following and the sharp gasps for air could not come from a male throat.
He broke through the tree line and stopped at the sight of Hinamori standing on the edge of a large cliff. She was dressed in a sleeping yukata and her expression was grim as she watched him in return.
"You shouldn't have come for me," she said, shaking her head, her long hair dancing around her shoulders with her movement. "It's too late."
The moon broke through the clouds once more and she reached up to tuck a long strand of hair behind her ear. The serious expression on her face changed to one of mourning.
He took a step forward and she held up her hand. "It's too late Captain Hitsugaya." She said formally, "go back to your city. There is no place for you here."
He tried to move, tried to catch her as she walked backwards, her eyes never leaving his. But no command he issued could make her stop, and no silent order to his body could induce it to move.
She dropped off the cliff.
He sat up with a start, his fingers going to the scabbard at his side and curling around the hilt of his soul slayer.
'It was a dream,' the deep voice echoed in his head, reassuring him. 'Just a dream.'
He flopped back down onto his futon, reaching up to wipe at the sweat that had accumulated on his brow. His fingers remaining tightly curled around the hilt of his sword. He needed the comfort that the familiar grip provided him.
He didn't like dreams, had never held a fondness for his subconscious's late night revelations. Even the dreams that Hyourinmaru had sent him in order to help him understand what they would become had only strengthened his resolve to dislike his nightly visions.
Once he had dreamed of Hinamori's leaving to join the academy. It had been some weeks before she had actually left him, the thoughtful gleam in her eyes and distant look on her face at odd times of the day had told him a message all of their own, but it was his subconscious that had picked up on it first.
He had dreamed of his becoming a death god long before he became one. He had fought it, informing Hinamori he had no intentions of following her to her stupid academy. Two weeks later he had walked through the doors, tired of her lack of letters and the realization that he was slowly losing his best friend. But mostly, he was just damn sick of the dreams.
He tossed a pillow over his head, his breathing quieting down as he started to relax. He would not overanalyze his subconscious tonight.
He needed to sleep. Dawn would be creaking over the sky in a few hours. He flexed his fingers and sighed when pain shot through them in a silent warning that they were not quite ready to be abused. He rolled back over to his side and closed his eyes, ignoring the pain that followed him through his movements.
He had to get some sleep.
He didn't remember drifting off to sleep. He did remember being woken up by his vice-captain's incessant knock and insistent urges that he get up because they had things to do. And so he found himself, barely awake, trudging across Seireitei, Matsumoto right behind him, to meet up with Captain Unohana, again.
He scowled at the first person he saw at the fourth division, the guard at the entrance to headquarters. He was tired and he certainly couldn't be bothered to keep his expression neutral as he gave the necessary information to gain admittance at the odd hour.
He ignored the stiffness in his fingers and the way his head throbbed in protest at the early morning sunlight. He had been tended to by a lower ranking member of the division the night before, Unohana being unavailable, and while they had done their job quickly and efficiently the slower healing only added to his frustration.
He didn't mind submitting to whoever happened to be available, but he had not intended to walk into the fourth division so early in the morning, having hoped to gain at least an hour more of sleep.
A cheerful, humming Matsumoto only irritated him further.
He ignored the jumping division members and did his best to drown out his merry vice-captain. He wasn't sure what she had been drinking so early in the morning but he preferred the grumpy, non-morning Matsumoto to whatever incarnation of her present self she was attempting to be.
It was beyond him to inform her how annoyed he was by her present display of happiness and so he found himself scowling at everyone else. He was both relieved and annoyed at the sight of Unohana waiting for them at the entrance to her office. He was certain that she would have tea at this early hour, something he wanted badly, and even more certain that Hinamori was resting behind those doors as well since Matsumoto had not brought her along this morning.
He frowned and mentally worked to reel in his frustration. It was his own fault he was suffering at this hour of the day thanks to the injuries he and Zaraki had inflicted upon themselves the night before. He sighed and forced a neutral expression to his face; this was why he normally kept a tight reign over his temper: the day after was always worse.
Hinamori was sitting on the couch in Unohana's office a cup of steaming tea cradled in her hands. She was pale but calm, and he didn't bother to register anything else. Unohana offered him a cup of tea and he accepted it gratefully, knowing that it was probably spiked with something. He briefly hoped that it held a remedy for his throbbing head.
If it didn't he would drink it anyway. It was tea and he had never needed a good cup of it in the morning more than he did at that moment.
Matsumoto settled neatly on the coach next to the smaller woman while he took the chair across from Unohana. Hinamori was sitting on the couch in Unohana's office, a cup of steaming tea cradled in her hands. She was pale but calm and he didn't bother to register anything else. The older woman smiled reassuringly before handing Matsumoto a cup as well. Once she made sure everyone was settled with a cup of tea in their hands, she began speaking.
"Well, Hinamori is making excellent progress," she said, her serene smile sliding into place. "I fully agree with the measures that you have taken to ensure her continued health." She smiled at Matsumoto. "Hinamori and I have discussed the type of things that she needs to continue to do to remain in good health. Rest, which she is getting, all the food she can eat, which she is being provided with exceptionably, and exercise."
She turned her gaze to him. "Now, I have heard that Renji has offered to let her spar with him in order to regain her muscle and to help her build her strength back up."
He nodded. "That is correct."
She smiled in satisfaction. "Good, now I have taken the liberty of drawing up an exercise chart for Hinamori. Some of these things are for Hinamori and some are for Renji." She rifled neatly through her desk, pulling out a sheath of papers. "He agreed to meet with me later this afternoon, but nevertheless, you should be aware of the things he will be working with her on."
He accepted the papers she handed him, quickly glancing at the guidelines that Unohana had set up for the Hinamori. He nodded.
"This is manageable," he agreed, before passing it along to Matsumoto so that Hinamori could look at it. The girl had her eyes down and looked for all the world that she did not want to be there. He sighed internally before turning back to Unohana.
"Anything else?" he questioned.
The older woman shook her head. "Her check up this morning went as well as I had hoped that it would." She cast a warm smile towards Hinamori, who was fidgeting in her seat. "I would like to check up with her in a few more days if you don't mind bringing her in."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
She nodded and Hinamori stood with Matsumoto. The two headed out the door carefully, one behind the other, but Unohana stopped him before he could turn to follow.
Keep an eye on her energy levels. If they become too low it could cause a relapse." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "They should also give you a clear picture of her mental stability."
That made sense; Hinamori would not be able to control her reiatsu levels any more than a green recruit would have been able to in her current state of health. By watching how fast and how quickly the individual levels rose and fell he would have a pretty clear picture of what her mental state was. At least that was the idea in theory. Right now Hinamori did not have much to her reiatsu at the given time. Her energy levels were just too low and it took time and care to rebuild one's reiatsu levels once they reached a certain point. Hinamori had long ago passed the point where a few weeks rest would help her reach her full potential once again, it would conceivably take months before she was back to her full level of strength. Her body, on the other hand, could take longer depending on whether or not she was going to let herself heal properly.
He nodded. "Thank you."
She nodded graciously and he followed the two women making a quick exit for the door. He trailed after them at a much slower pace; the tea had done wonders to relieve his headache and the itching in his fingers was starting to fade as the healing spell continued to do its work. The young healer had placed a time spell on the broken bones to ensure that it healed to the best of its ability. During the war he had broken the bones in his hands and fingers several times. The quick healing jobs that had been required at the time had left him with rough palms and large knuckles. The slower healing would prevent this. He had not cared either way; hands were hands and they were generally abused in their world.
Soul slayers were never very gentle on their owner's hands and while the taming of Hyourinmaru had not damaged his palms or fingers, Hinamori's still bore the marks of the fire that had first licked at the delicate skin around her fingers. It had long ago healed and she had mastered the flames of her soul easily, but always there was a mark of some sort that most of the recruits bore directly after their first encounter with the world that belonged to their soul slayer.
Those that never gained that understanding of their soul slayer were both blessed and cursed.
He had dreamed of ice for months and would often wake freezing until he had reached the level of control and mastery that had been expected from his soul slayer. Some days he wondered what inner torment Ichigo had been forced to deal with after he had gained Zangestu's name. Or perhaps he had been spared such an ordeal because of the speed and determination that had been necessary to rescue Rukia from the executioners block.
Some part of him wondered if perhaps that had not been his trial, that the knowledge that he would lose his friend if he didn't get strong fast enough. But he had never asked Ichigo, and he doubted he ever would.
Renji walked out of the early morning gloom, Zabimaru at his side and Tobiume in his left hand. The red headed man smiled at the three of them.
"Hinamori, are you ready?" he questioned.
She blinked and looked between him and Renji carefully. "You want to go now?" she said slowly, her attention directed towards the red-headed man in front of them.
He wondered if she would refuse. Hinamori had not touched her soul slayer since she had awoken and he was not entirely sure why. His theories were made of a half completed analysis of the division members who had gone through the same trial. There were so few things that could cause the slayer to refuse to manifest but he had no doubts that the sword was itching to be back in her partner's hands. He could practically feel the slayer's silent call to Hinamori; the air was thick with it.
It was a testament to her own nerves that she didn't seem to hear Tobiume's cry.
"No better time than the present," he agreed. "My division has training in a couple of hours and so I have the time we need to get a good start on this mornings exercises."
"Fine." She turned her attention back to him, her hesitancy clearly visible.
Her eyes rose and he met her blank gaze. She was not prepared for it this. But if they did not get her sword back in her hands and going through the motions soon, she might never step forward on her own again.
They couldn't let that happen. He had no intention of letting it happen.
"I will send Matsumoto to get you in an hour or so," he informed her carefully, watching her expression. She nodded in return, her eyes filling with uncertainty for a moment, before she turned to follow Renji into the fog that still hung over the city.
Matsumoto turned to him, one brow rising. "Renji?"
"He offered," he said, turning back in the direction of their division. It was not a typical paperwork day but there was enough to be done that they would have to settle in and get to work for the next hour or so.
"Why?"
He shot her an irritated glance. "Because he wanted to I would imagine."
"She can get the work-out she needs in our division, she's part of it now," Matsumoto insisted, her tone unhappy at the idea of her division member going anywhere else.
He continued to push forward, ignoring the mixture of amusement and annoyance that her observations brought. It was true; they had plenty of people in their division who would have been more than willing to work with Hinamori to bring her back up to her full potential, him and Matsumoto especially.
And yet he wasn't entirely sure that Hinamori was ready or willing to join the world that they had worked so hard to prepare for her. She was not yet healed, and while he would have loved to keep the girl in his division and away from everyone else until she was ready to move out on her own again, he couldn't. She needed the contact with others, needed to know that outside her small world right then, there were those who cared.
And so when Abarai had approached him earlier that week with Captain Ukitate and Captain Kyouraku in his wake with the offer to help Hinamori physically retrain herself he had found himself agreeing. They had a very valid point in using Abarai to help her regain her footing. They had gone through training together and getting her out of the tenth division and back in familiar territory for a few hours a week would probably do her more good than harm.
He was willing to try if they were.
"Yes," he agreed.
Matsumoto persisted. "Why then?"
He sighed. "Because he wanted to."
Her muttering under breath was almost the bright point of amusement that had been missing for the majority of the morning. "Did you tell Hinamori anything before you sent her off to spar with him?"
"She was with him when he asked." She had been hiding behind Ukitate's larger form and he could have sensed her hesitation and uncertainty from miles off. It had taken him the better part of the morning to realize it was the thought of picking up Tobiume, not the physical training that terrified her.
There was a long moment of silence. "When did they bring this up?"
"When she was loading boxes and you were off muttering about food." His tone reflected the annoyance that was building back up at her continued questions.
Again the silence and he could practically hear her debating her next question. "And you didn't mention this to me?"
He stopped and turned to look at her, one brow rising high. "I am supposed to inform you of my every decision now, Matsumoto?" This time he was annoyed.
She huffed and he turned to continue the walk back to their offices. It took a good twenty minutes to walk to and from unless you were using shunpo, but that was reserved for dire emergencies.
It just wasn't dignified to do anything besides walk.
By the time they reached the office Matsumoto's annoyed silence gave way to disgruntlement at the realization that she had walked right into the paperwork that he had waiting for her and at this early of an hour she didn't have a convenient enough of an excuse to get out of the work.
"Captain," Matsumoto said some time later, pulling his attention away from his paperwork.
"What?"
"I need a pen."
He turned narrowed eyes to the innocent expression on her face before motioning to the full pen cup on the corner of his desk. "Then get one."
Again the pause that guaranteed that she was doing her best to think of something that was going to drive him to an early grave. "Why don't I have a sparkly pen cup?"
He closed his eyes taking a deep breath to stave off his frustration. "Matsumoto, if you want the sparkly pen cup I will switch with you."
"But wasn't it a gift from Hinamori?"
He would not grit his teeth; it was beneath a captain to give into such an expression of frustration. "Matsumoto," he said once he had regained a modicum of control, his tone icy. "If you want a pen, get one."
He heard the scrape of her chair as she sauntered over to his desk in front of the pen cup. "Grumpy this morning aren't we?" she muttered lowly, snagging a bright pink pen from his desk and then sashaying back to her desk.
He relaxed once the scribble of her writing was heard a few moments later.
It didn't take her long to break the silence. "Would this be a bad time to ask for a favor?"
He set his pen down, again, with a sigh. "What is it this time?"
"I was wondering if you would mind staying with Hinamori tonight for a couple of hours."
He blinked before shifting some of the paperwork on his desk to another pile to buy himself some time to think about her answer before he turned to give her his full attention once again. "That shouldn't be a problem." He paused. "Why?"
She smiled winningly. "Tonight is the night that Shuuhei, Renji, Ikkaku, Iba and I planned to go out and share the fond memories of the past. In all honestly, I really didn't think that you would want Hinamori visiting the places we're going to in her current condition."
"You're going out to get drunk?" That didn't surprise him a bit.
She shook her head. "Captain," she said with a sigh. "How could you even think such a thing?"
He sighed, shooting her a disapproving glance. "You're expected to report at the normal time tomorrow," he warned.
She beamed. "Of course."
"And where do you plan on Hinamori staying?" He knew them and their little 'get-togethers' well, and he was certain that Matsumoto would not be returning at a normal hour that night. Most of their all-night shenanigans ended up with her passed out at some random person's place or out cold on the couch in the office when he walked in the morning.
Matsumoto beamed. "I know she has stayed with you in the past," she scolded. "Don't act like you will be corrupted by having her in the same room with you."
He frowned darkly. "Matsumoto," he warned.
She sighed. "Nanao is more than willing to drop by and stay with her if you would like her to."
He nodded. "Fine." He went back to his paperwork.
"I think I lost my pen."
He couldn't stop his growl of frustration then.
-
He watched her as she ate. Slow, methodical bites that carefully took stock of what was going in her mouth, but her expression never changed. He looked down at his own plate and silently wondered if perhaps his cooking was really that bad. Matsumoto never complained.
The first bite proved that perhaps he was not as bad a cook as he was wondering. He shifted his gaze back towards her, which meant that it was something else. He observed her vigilantly between his own bites of food. Matsumoto had dropped her off an hour or so before and he had been cooking dinner for the two of them. He was both tired of the cafeteria food they offered in mass quantities and certain that they wouldn't have what food Hinamori needed to maintain her special diet.
She was tense, he realized. Her fingers were gripping her chopsticks a bit tighter than normal and her eyes were narrowed slightly, small lines showing around the corners.
Was she afraid of him now?
He didn't think it was that, her reiatsu was calm if a bit weary. So it was something else, he looked down at his own plate and quickly set to eating. If he did anything but act normal around her he was almost certain that she would flee from the room. Now that he knew what to look for it was obvious. Her feet were shifting ever so slightly and her other hand was opening and closing slowly.
It looked like it was indeed going to be a long evening.
"Is everything alright?" He broke the silence once he was certain she had had time to try everything on her plate. There had been a time when she would have teased him over his cooking and gone to great lengths to playfully try each bite to see if he was going to poison them.
Now he simply got a nod.
He continued to watch her carefully through her silence. He had not been expecting this. Anger, denial, or silent warnings had become normal for her. Not this unending quiet… he didn't know what to make of it.
"Would you like some more tea?" he asked a few minutes later. He was not sure how to break this silence nor was he sure why he felt the need to do so. He was certain that he needed to bring her out of her shell. Part of him realized that the dream was still bothering him, sitting behind his eyes so that each time he closed them the sight of her dropping from the cliff haunted his footsteps. And part of him knew that he was now her captain as much as her friend and they needed a relationship of sort.
It was like starting all over again.
She shook her head, still silent.
So they were playing that game, he realized. He frowned and covered the motion by standing to get himself something else to drink. At this rate he was almost certain they were nothing more than long lost acquaintances who made the mistake of meeting up for dinner and sitting together with nothing to say.
Dinner progressed. And so did the silence.
He found himself washing the pots and pans he had used while she dried in the tense silence some time later. He wasn't sure when or how they had reached this point. Both of them too wary of the other one to really talk; it was strange to him to be the ice breaker. He had tried. She had looked up with those wounded eyes of hers and blinked before either shaking her head or giving him a half-hearted smile.
He hated it.
He glanced at the ornate clock that hung just above the fireplace in his living room. They had some time to go before he would feel comfortable taking her back to her rooms.
He found himself proposing a game of chess to pass the time.
She had looked up in surprise and he had let an eyebrow rise in challenge. She had hesitantly nodded. He watched her as she watched him put the chess game together. She was white, simply because he could remember the many arguments they had had over the years of their chess playing; she had won them all. He didn't think she would argue with him tonight over who should be white and who should be black. He didn't want to find out if she wouldn't, didn't want to know what he would do if she wouldn't.
She moved and he followed. He loved to watch her play chess. She was so careful in her movements, each thought and placement carefully thought out. It was such a difference from her once normal, cheerful demeanor.
It had been over a game of chess that he had realized how good of a vice-captain she had to be in the field. He beat her every time, but she knew what she was doing. She had good strategies that carried her through the game well, and if he had not had the understanding of the board that he carried she could have beaten him.
As it was, he enjoyed playing her. Enjoyed the way she would bite on her lip in concentration as her eyes narrowed in thought. More often than not she would fiddle with her hair when she wasn't sure of her next move. He loved to watch the way her eyes would light up when she was convinced she had managed to find a way past his defenses.
Tonight she was growling at him in both frustration and amusement as he countered each of her moves with ease. She was rusty at this game but she was making a sort of noise now so it was an improvement. He had, at this point, captured several of her pawns and one of her knights.
She had two of his pawns and a castle that he had sacrificed for the greater good.
Three more moves and he would have her queen captured and be in checkmate position. She hadn't spotted his plot yet or the path he was using to get to her queen, but he had confidence that she would. Everything she needed was just lying in her mind waiting for her to wake and recognize it.
She was chewing on her bottom lip again, a motion that told him just how nervous she was to be in his presence and to be sitting playing this game with him. There had been a day once when they would spend hours with her trying to counter his movements and him teaching her new little tricks and methods in the game of chess so that when she played her own captain she would not be completely clueless against his strategies.
Now things were different. It hung between them like a heavy cloak over their shoulders. When she should have been muttering darkly under her breath and he should have been teasing her mercilessly at her lack of skill, they were quiet. The only noise between them her quiet growls of frustration.
"How did your afternoon with Renji go?" he questioned, even as he moved a pawn where he wanted it to go. For one who was known for his ability to remain quiet for hours on end he could no longer handle this silence between them.
She looked up, startled by the sound of his voice. She was struggling to maintain her calm composure; it was in the shifting of her arms in nervous anticipation and the quiet hesitation that continued to fill the space between them.
"It went alright," she finally said, her voice soft.
He nodded, watching as she shifted her knight to counter his attack on her queen. He kept his expression under a tight wrap; she had fallen right into his trap. He moved his bishop before looking up to see if she had yet caught onto the fact that her queen and king were in imminent danger.
She didn't, instead she frowned at the board, her gaze distant, and he wondered if she saw the chess pieces at all.
"What did you do?" It seemed like he was going to have to play that ridiculous twenty question game Kuchiki Rukia adored during their school days in the living world.
She blinked and looked up at him. "You saw the list," she mumbled.
He shook his head. "Hinamori I may have seen what Unohana recommended but I still want to know what you did, if you think it was helping, how you feel about it, and if you think you should continue or not."
She watched him for several moments. "Because you're my captain?"
He blinked at her for several moments, caught off guard by her words. Was that what was bothering her? "Because you're my friend," he said, carefully slipping his bishop into place and capturing her queen. She didn't notice, too busy watching him as he continued to think about her question. "If I was asking as your captain I would have called you into my office."
He watched her idly move a pawn and sighed; he had lost her. "Checkmate," he said a few moments later. She looked up, startled, and frowned. His lips curved upwards and she blinked before turning her attention back to the board.
"When did you… how did I…?" She paused and her frown deepened. Her fingers flitted to the chess board and started to rearrange the pieces. He watched in fascination as she continued to shuffle the board until it was back to the beginning state. She moved her first pawn the frowned up at him as if daring him to refuse to continue.
He reached forward and mimicked her move. She nodded and then turned her gaze to the board, a crease forming on her brow. He curled his fingers into a ball in his lap to help repress the sudden urge to reach out and smooth the lines of her brow.
They ended up playing three more games. He won them all, but she gained ground with each of them. By the end of it she was blinking slowly as she tried to keep her eyes open. He captured her queen again and she sighed in frustration.
He stood. "I think I should escort you to your rooms and see if Nanao is there yet," he said.
She blinked up at him and his lips curved at the small pout that flitted across her features, a welcome reminder of the woman who was hiding beneath the veneer she still held to herself like a mantle. She sighed.
"All right," she muttered.
It was a quiet walk back to her and Matsumoto's rooms, though thankfully not a long walk. The air between them that had once been so tense had lightened during their chess matches, but it was creeping back in. He watched as her shoulders started to slump once more and her footsteps falter. He held back his own sigh; she was losing confidence in herself with each new step. Why?
She walked in into the rooms and he relaxed at the sight of Nanao sitting next to fire in defense against the chill of the night air.
"I will bring breakfast in the morning," he said with a slight smile. "I am sure Matsumoto won't be in any shape to get anything ready in the morning." It was unspoken that Hinamori hated to cook with a passion. "And I have some things I need to go over with you."
She nodded. "Thank you for dinner."
"I will see you in the morning."
She nodded again and he gave Vice-Captain Nanao a small nod of thanks. Her lips quirked up in a smile before her gaze turned back to her book.
He offered Hinamori one more nod before turning and heading towards his quarters to seek his own rest.
-
He was waiting for them to wake early the next morning. There was a small shop just inside the square and it was one of Matsumoto's favorite places to go and snag breakfast if she had time. They had these little sausages wrapped in cheese and then breaded and he had watched her on more than one occasion down an entire box.
He knocked on the door quietly in case Hinamori was still sleeping, and had walked in after the muffled grunt that had wavered through the door. He was always amused by the early morning version of Matsumoto; her normal grace failed her until she had a cup of tea in her hands. More often than not her hair was not co-operating with her just yet and she grunted to communicate with anyone or anything that was in front of her for the first hour after waking.
Fortunately, waking her wasn't the problem; it was getting her to respond to anything beyond her grunts that was challenge in the early hours of the morning.
He hid the amusement that threatened to spill out at the way her eyes widened in appreciation at the sight of the box that he was offering her. He handed her the box and motioned for her to have a seat. He knew his way around her kitchen well enough to know she wouldn't have much stocked except for what she needed for the day… and tea.
Tea he could handle.
He had just finished with the tea when a sleepy and disgruntled Hinamori walked through the door. She was still in her sleeping yukata, her hair flowing in masses of waves around her head as she stumbled in, still half asleep.
Where Matsumoto simply reeked groggy annoyance in the morning, Hinamori was sleepy innocence. He watched her, a fond smile playing at the corner of his mouth at the way she rubbed at her eyes and then tucked her hair behind her ears, her expression half-exasperated and half-asleep at the early hour.
It was perhaps the cutest expression he had seen on her in a long time.
She didn't notice him and so he turned his attention back to the tea. It wouldn't do for her to look up and catch the amused expression in his eyes. She might have looked cuter than Matsumoto in the mornings, but she was every bit as violent.
"Good morning," he said. He heard the small gap in her footsteps as she registered his presence before she seemed to gather herself and move to the table. He got down another cup as Matsumoto grunted and the sound of a box sliding across the table broke through the quiet of the morning.
He turned and handed the two women their tea, both pulled their cups closer and bent over them like the lost homeless children he sometimes saw in the living world, before reaching for another roll in unison, their expressions never changing as they inhaled the box as quickly as they could chew.
He was suddenly quite glad that he had gotten more than one box or he was certain he would lose a finger or more to the women. He knew Matsumoto could and generally did eat her weight in food in the mornings, but it had been a long time since Hinamori had joined him for breakfast for him to remember her eating habits entirely.
He sat at the table, pulled some of the papers he had brought with him to his side, opened his box, and settled in to wait until the girls discovered they had eaten their food and went after his.
It didn't take long. The made quick work of their box and then fingers were sliding over the side and snagging another roll. He looked up and quirked a brow in question at Matsumoto, who just shrugged. He sighed and went back to his papers, his lips twitching when a smaller hand slid into the box and curled around two of the rolls and then slid out with a silent sneakiness that could only belong to Hinamori. Matsumoto simply did not have the inclination to be that sly so early in the morning. He looked up; she blinked at him once, shrugged, and bit into one of the rolls she had stolen.
He was going to have to get more breakfast before going to the office.
When Matsumoto reached back over a moment later he gave up and pushed the box towards them with a disgruntled expression. Next time he was buying bagels as well. Neither of the women would eat the bagels. Hinamori preferred them as an afternoon snack and Matsumoto hated bagels.
They had finished off the rolls and were leaning back in their chairs, sipping the now cooled tea when he finally broke the silence.
"It's going to snow today."
Matsumoto looked outside her brows lowering. "When?"
"This afternoon most likely, early evening at the latest."
Hinamori blinked, her brows furrowing. "How can you tell?"
His expression turned thoughtful at her words. He had started to be able to judge the weather more accurately during the war. He had always been able to sense the day's general weather but as his bond with Hyourinmaru had strengthened and he had started to grow more into his potential he had started to sense and see things about the weather he had never seen before. Sometimes days ahead of time.
This morning he had woken to the fresh smell of approaching snow.
"I can smell it," he answered finally, watching as her brows lowered further in thought. Well, at least she wasn't giving him the look that Soi Fong had when he had mentioned that little fact within her hearing range.
"Oh," was all she said, turning her attention back to her tea.
He took her distraction as an opportunity to examine her a bit closer. She looked well rested and her expression was not as annoyed as it had been the day before.
"Are either of you going to tell me what happened?" Hinamori questioned, looking up from her cup, brows rising in question.
"What do you mean?" Matsumoto said.
She looked hesitant, her gaze moving between them both before she spoke up, "Hitsugaya's reiatsu was a little hard to miss," she said finally. "Even in my current condition."
He surprised himself with the grunt that emerged from his lips. He watched as her eyes widened before a small smile quirked at her mouth and then it was gone. "It's not important right now," he finally said.
She blinked and frowned.
He sighed before drinking the last of his tea and setting his cup down on the table and then standing. He watched when she frowned further, her brows tucking together with her displeasure at his evasive answer.
It took her a moment to gain her courage. And then even as one brow rose to show his displeasure at being questioned she spoke up. "Why?" Her voice soft but firm, an unhappy expression remaining on her face.
"Zaraki and I had a talk," he conceded, before turning his attention to Matsumoto. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she grumbled and crossed her arms in annoyance. "I have a captains meeting later this afternoon," he said, pulling the final pieces of paperwork into a pile. "The snow will probably hit some time late this afternoon. There are some things I need delivered before then."
Matsumoto nodded.
"Take Hinamori with you, that way you can show her the changes that the renovations made on the city."
This time both women nodded.
He stood. "I need to prepare some things before this afternoon." He quirked a brow at them. "Do you think you can make it to the office in an hour or so?"
The women exchanged glances and then Matsumoto grunted in agreement.
He shook his head in mild amusement before turning. "I will see you then," he said agreeably, walking out the door before either could grunt in disagreement. Some days, working around Matsumoto was the wiser choice.
Things seemed to be going well. Hinamori seemed to be much more relaxed around Matsumoto and small peeks of who she was hiding beneath her fear and uncertainty were starting to become more frequent.
If only he could shake the feeling that there was something else stirring underneath the surface.
Something that hung just out of sight.