A/N: Hello, I just wanted to thank you guys for following this story. I'm actually nearing the end now, believe it or not. What is this, the 18th chapter now? Holy crap! This is the longest piece I've written, I think. xD
I had this going in one direction, and then this buncha losers took over and just made the story their way. Go figure, right? Either way, I'm honored that you guys stuck around. I'm toying with the idea of a sequel. . .
We'll see. They already took over the story once, so I wouldn't be surprised if I got to the end and they took over again, paving the way for something else. Eh. Let me know what you guys think, and feel free to let me know of any mistakes, seeing as this is un-beta'd.
Once again, thank you, guys! Onwards and upwards!
Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix
(My heart opens itself to your voice)
I Can't Find The Words To Say II
His arm was raised, nose tucked into the crook of his elbow as he squinted in the thick smoke. He could barely make out anything as he pushed on down a short corridor, sidestepping a collapsing doorway and flinching as the glowing ash rose in a puff to prickle on his skin, eyes stinging.
Of all the stupidest things to do!
But Toushiro didn't have enough breath to even mutter curses as he plowed on deeper, the heat and ash searing through the thick of his captain's frock.
Oh, what he wouldn't give to have Hyourinmaru in his hand right now.
The intense heat was quickly draining him of patience and drive as Toushiro pulled to a stop near three doorways and tried to concentrate on any reiatsu signatures, the heat nearly overwhelming every thought. Clenching his jaw in concentration he ducked lower, fighting against instinct to keep his eyes open as he tried to focus more on the flow of reiatsu rather than his quickly deteriorating environment.
It didn't take him much to feel Rukia's vibrant energy flare to life behind the door on his left—after all, it was the only one. Opening his eyes, he cautiously felt around for the indentation of the handle in the traditional sliding door, squinting at the gap between door and floor and glad to find there weren't flames licking at his feet yet.
"Rukia!" The smoke poured out heavily and forced him back a step but otherwise the room seemed yet to go up.
Coughing, he bent lower to the ground and found that he could just barely make out the petite Shinigami's form standing in the middle, frozen but for her shaking hands and covered in soot. Scowling as he bit back a cough, the captain quickly crossed to her and wrapped a hand around her upper arm. Jumping, Rukia's attention quickly jerked to him in shock.
"Hitsu-"
"Let's get out of here, you know there's no one else!" He shouted over the crackling of the flames. They must already be consuming the other two rooms, he surmised by the rise in sound. Tugging urgently, he swiveled on his heel to make for the door but found Rukia resisting.
"I can't leave!" Cerulean eyes widened in shock, Toushiro's brow quickly furrowed in frustration, beads of sweat plastering the thick uniform and his hair to his skin.
"What the hell are you-"
"This room can't burn! I won't let it!"
"There's nothing you can do! It's pointless!"
Jerking her arm from his grasp, Rukia scowled. "I have to try!"
She stepped back from him, her hands rising as she stared at them in determination—no, it wasn't determination, he realized. She was concentrating.
"What-?" He began, eyes widening as they began to glow. It was soft, a light that would go unnoticed if he wasn't directly looking at them. Confused, he wondered what spell she was trying to do without words when it struck him that he'd felt this particular incantation being conjured before.
Once, a long time ago when she'd brought Matsumoto back and they had both been drenched from the rain.
In one of the other rooms a large ceiling beam groaned, falling victim to the flames that consumed it. Deteriorating, it landed heavily among furniture with a resounding thud that caused them to instinctively flinch—and broke Rukia's concentration. As one they turned, seeing the fire begin taking to the doorway they had come through.
Violet eyes rose to him, wild with desperation. "I-"
They didn't stand a chance if they tried ducking out the way they'd come in, Toushiro quickly recognized. And without Hyourinmaru he was useless at using his reiatsu—he had the potential to, but the risk was too great because he couldn't control it near enough to keep it to such a small area. If he tried, he might accidentally kill those outside—as well as Rukia, who would be right at the epicenter.
Rukia was their only hope now.
His brows came down to match the steadiness in his grip as he brought both hands to her shoulders firmly. Cerulean eyes bore down on hers, the captain trying to ignore the protesting of his lungs as he swallowed down a cough.
The smoke was so thick now, he could barely make her out in front of him, tinged red from the growing flames behind him even though they had both gone down as low to the floor as they could without lying on it.
"Concentrate."
His hands found hers then, the pressure of his fingers wrapped around her wrists a steadying gesture that brought her back from the edge of panic.
"You've done this before without a second thought. Maybe not to-" He coughed, bending to the side slightly before regaining his composure even though his eyes were watering fiercely. "-this degree, but it's not impossible. Do it!"
Swallowing back some coughing of her own, Rukia blinked back the tears from the sting of the smoke and looked at their joined hands. Mostly, she found her violet eyes drawn to his own slender fingers and how they wrapped around her tiny wrists, the coolness of his skin sending a shiver down her spine despite the heat. It washed her in a sudden, unexpected calm she welcomed in relief.
And as she stood there with him anchoring her, her eyes, instead of staying on their joined hands, rose to meet his own gaze.
They may share the same element but at the root of it all, Rukia felt that he made the better embodiment of it.
Ice.
Power.
Comfort.
It was all there in his gaze, in the glimmer of a storm within those orbs. Tugging her in, little by little until all she could do was stand and admire, caught in a turbulent tempest she wasn't sure she wanted to leave.
Her mouth opened, a tendril of white whispering out from between her lips, caressing her face with a chilling cold as a breeze began to stir around them.
"That's it! Just concentrate." His voice was far away and yet so close, a soothing reassurance as the cold began to seep from her hands.
She felt more than saw when he began to gently tug her down, her palms coming into contact with the floor as they kneeled. Despite the movement, despite the very foundations of her home quickly coming down around them, all Rukia could do was look at him, wonder openly lighting her face as she felt the powerful stir of her reiatsu. It was overwhelming and yet not enough, a wave that left her breathless with its' power. It rose inside of her, thrumming through her veins and sending her heart into a frantic beat, vision blurring in and out of focus.
A white expanse.
Her mouth opened of its own accord as she gulped in a breath that should've suffocated her. Instead she was met with clean air, the sudden rush of oxygen tilting her world perilously. She was beginning to slump forward, she could feel it. Nonetheless she fought it, trying to focus on the captain and finding that her best anchor was the link between them—their joined hands. Violet eyes locked on the simple linking of limbs, the petite Shinigami transfixed, watching as out of the corner of her eye she noted blue rivulets began to form around them, crackling as they spidered out in a web that quickly filled.
She could feel the formation of every little crystal, every bit of cohesion as what was left of the moisture from the air was yanked and forced into its magnificent icy form to fall like a sleeping spell over an unruly child. Thousands upon thousands of times forming and joining, over and over again even as she felt the pressure of the captain's hands still on her.
She was the steam that rose from the frontier between flame and ice.
She was the girl kneeling in her sister's room.
Rukia Kuchiki was both.
Or maybe she was neither?
Slowly the doubt began to consume her control, wonder giving way to a newfound terror with the loss of her center. Was it her breathing harshly? Or was she seeping over wood and stone, over the deep foundations of her home and forming solid ice over windows collapsed from the flames? She couldn't tell if she was wincing from the falling of another beam or in another room, catching it on shards of ice and creeping over it to douse the flames.
Her mind was on the edge of a cliff somehow, the panic tipping her into a near hysteria that escaped her in a cry that wasn't lost to Toushiro.
How she heard his voice, the young woman couldn't say. All she knew was that he was there with her, violet eyes rising slowly to meet his.
He was saying something, tugging on her hands insistently.
Maybe she should've listened—knew it was very rude of her not to. But when her gaze rose, all she could see over his right shoulder was the magnificent creature bowing its' head to Sode no Shirayuki, leaving her breathless.
It was bigger than the chambers that they currently occupied, its' scales gleaming magnificently even without a source of light now that the flames had been trapped and suffocated under ice. White as the coldest of storms, shades of blue glittering and reflecting her own zanpaktou's smile as she raised a pale delicate hand to the long snout. It should've broken through the ceiling, Rukia rationalized even as she watched. It should've destroyed the room. But she knew Sode no Shirayuki wasn't really there—and so she figured it must be a higher spiritual being as well.
Ah, that made sense.
Maybe if she were being more rational, or hadn't taken in so much smoke she would be logical enough to realize that she should only be able to see her own zanpaktou.
Instead, as she finally crumpled in on herself into Toushiro's already waiting arms, she had a light smile on her face.
Wait until Nii-sama heard they had a dragon in the mansion.
Toushiro was sitting by Rukia's bedside, watching as the vice captain of the fourth division healed the burn marks upon his companion's unconscious form.
He followed the woman's actions with a sharp gaze, saying nothing as Rukia's hands were cleaned and efficiently healed of the frostbite.
Isane's brow was furrowed, thoughts twisting with each injury she took in, questions stuck on the tip of her tongue as she worked. Even as she finally placed her ward's hand down gently back at her side, she hesitated.
"Is she going to be alright?" Isane, startled out of her thoughts, turned to the captain.
"Yes, she will. She just needs to recover from losing so much reiatsu. Both the burns and frostbite should heal nicely."
Toushiro frowned. "Seems a recurring theme with her, this reiatsu drain thing."
The vice captain shrugged, her eyes never leaving his form. "I guess."
She seemed to contemplate something as she licked her lips nervously, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Opening her mouth, she regarded him for a second before deciding against whatever query she had, sighing and making herself busy instead with the medical chart hooked to the foot of Rukia's bed.
At least that's what Toushiro thought.
"Can I ask you something, Hitsugaya-taichou?" Her tone was neutral but it set the captain on edge immediately. It was the tiptoe of someone who either was worried about the reaction to her words, or just so confused that even if she phrased her thoughts carefully, they would come out as ludicrous.
His eyes narrowed.
"What is it?"
For a moment there was nothing but silence between them, heavy with her indecision. Nonetheless, Toushiro waited, nerves nearly making him snap at her.
"Well?"
Instead of being startled into answering like he thought she would, only her eyes rose from the chart, her gaze substantial, as if he were a puzzle she didn't quite understand. No, this wasn't some far-flung silly thought. Whatever she had to ask—and therefore what he would answer would be important, he gathered silently. Clenching his jaw, he tried to remain unperturbed as his arms came to cross at his chest.
"Kuchiki-san froze quite a large area around her."
The white haired youth replied nothing.
What, did she want him to confirm the obvious?
"At the edges of that area were some unsuspecting civilians who weren't fast enough to get out of the way."
The crease between his brows deepened.
"No one was seriously injured." Isane was quick to say, noting his reaction. "A few frozen toes here or there, a frozen arm. . . nothing that wasn't fixable in less than a few minutes due to it not being a direct, confrontational invocation."
"Ok." He snapped, his impatience and weariness beginning to take over as he rose. There was ash blanketing him, falling from his hair and landing on his shoulders as he shifted. The pristine uniform he had left his office with was for the most part whole—except for the scorched areas where he hadn't managed to move fast enough to completely avoid a singe. All he wanted was to make sure Rukia was alright and then go home to shower. Maybe get some paperwork done after that, if he felt up to it (which he would because there were things that he had left pending).
He didn't have time to waste.
"So what exactly is your question?"
Placing the chart back, Isane began carefully. "The wing of the house you two were in wasn't a large one. That Kuchiki-san managed to cover even that much on her first go of it though, is impressive."
When she fell silent, the captain frowned, sensing the open ended remark. "But?"
"Did you shield yourself somehow? Did she give you ample time to put some sort of barrier up so that she could attempt the incantation? I mean, no disrespect Hitsugaya-taichou, but even a finite burst like that at full-frontal should have caused extensive damage to you." Her gaze slowly took in his form, scrutinizing him for any sign of injury and finding none—not even burn marks. "How is it that you came out unscathed while Kuchiki-san didn't? Why is it that even though both of you were at the very heart of power, you were the only one to walk out of it? I just. . . I've never seen or heard of anything like that before."
Cerulean eyes widened marginally.
How. . . why hadn't he made that connection?
Hadn't he himself been worrying about the same thing when he had considered trying his hand at the use of his reiatsu?
Before his thoughts could fully turn to the new conundrum, both he and Isane turned at the sound of the door opening behind them. Unohana, ever smiling, walked in with Byakuya not too far behind.
"I'm glad to see that you're well, Hitsugaya-taichou. Now, I haven't been fully brought up to speed on the situation but if you wouldn't mind sparing me just a few more minutes of your time, I'd like to get your account on it as well as give you one final once-over."
He could feel Byakuya's eyes practically burning into him. And as much as that pushed him into more of a reason to just go home and deal with the consequences later, there was no denying Unohana's request—her asking was just her polite way of twisting peoples' arms and he wasn't about to push his luck with her when all he wanted was the quickest route to the door so he could contemplate what Isane had pointed out in peace.
Also, why the hell was he being scrutinized? He hadn't done anything to his sister! If anything, Byakuya should be thanking him for helping her. . . again.
Hell, he should be sniffing out what had caused the fire in the first place. Granted, it was good to see the usually aloof Kuchiki actually showing some concern for his sister's well-being—but having that defensive nature drilling into him through the elder Kuchiki's eyes alone wasn't exactly fun.
If he didn't know any better, Toushiro would bet that Byakuya wasn't exactly liking the fact that he was cropping up more and more in his dear sister's company. . . which wasn't his fault, thank you very much. For the moment all the tenth division captain could do was clench his jaw and keep quiet. He wasn't above telling Byakuya off if it came to it, but as long as he was left in peace, he'd be sure to do the same for his fellow captain.
The elder Kuchiki seemed more concerned about his sister anyways, which allowed Toushiro off the hook to hang back as the others conversed.
After having gone through some final checks on Rukia with Isane, Unohana finally nodded a polite goodbye at her vice captain and the nobleman, closing the door behind her as she and Toushiro walked out. He followed her down a long corridor, noting how some of the people milling about in the waiting area near the receptionist desk had the noble family's staff uniforms on. Though they were few, they did recognize him as he passed with the other captain, bowing as formally as they could in their current states of injury. Taken aback, he was startled to hear Unohana lightly laugh.
"You saved their mistress. To them, you have saved a major part of their world."
"I saved no one." He replied, frowning as he sidestepped a trio of nurses. "She saved herself."
Smiling, Unohana offered no retort.
Though they were stopped several times along the way, it wasn't too long before he had settled into the chair before Unohana's simple desk, arms crossed and eyes following the other captain as she slipped quietly into her own seat across from him after closing the office doors.
"So, care to give me your side of the story, since we can't get Kuchiki-san's at the moment?"
Toushiro shrugged. "There isn't really much to tell. I ran into her when she was heading home and decided to walk with her. We saw the smoke rising and she—as she seems to like doing—ran right into the fray."
"And you ran in after her."
He hesitated, unable to meet the other captain's gaze. "Yes."
Her eyes were heavy with contemplation in the silence, the curiosity practically rolling off of her as she scrutinized his state.
"You ran right into a burning building and yet you are completely unscathed while your friend lies in a healing coma, burns and frostbite on her body. Now, judging from what you have told me and from the physical damage Isane reported, she was the one who sent the flare of reiatsu that froze the area."
"Correct."
Unohana nodded, more to herself than to him, he figured. It looked to him like she was trying to let her imagination fill in the gaps with each piece of the puzzle he gave. "You were at the epicenter."
He dipped his head in affirmation.
"And yet here you are, with not a single scratch on you."
There was no reply.
Brow lightly furrowed, the fourth division captain leaned back in her chair, hands resting lightly in her lap.
"Hitsugaya-taichou, would you give me more detail on what happened inside?"
With a halfhearted frown and loose shrug he told her everything—from the moment he ran in up until Rukia had collapsed in his arms in the semi-frozen room, sparing no detail he could recall. However, as the story tumbled from his lips, he began seeing exactly how odd it truly was. The more he spoke, the more he found he just couldn't understand why he had so easily forgotten to shield himself from her, how it was that he trusted her so implicitly to not hurt him when he should've known better.
His fellow captain didn't say anything—didn't give any indication of whatever she was thinking. Unohana simply listened, nodding where appropriate to confirm that she was still with him. After he'd finished, he found with some chagrin that he couldn't even begin to fathom what she had in mind. How could he, when he too was asking the same questions even though he had been at the very core of it all?
"Tell me," she began, breaking his train of thought, "have you ever heard of the Futagoza?"
Toushiro frowned in thought, trying to sift through his memories and finding himself coming up blank.
"It's alright," Unohana said, snapping him of his fruitless attempts, "I didn't expect you to. Not many do in the newer generations due to their rarity."
"So. . . what are the Futagoza?"
"Apparently you and Kuchiki are." He raised a brow.
"I'm not following."
"The Futagoza—also known as the Gemini—are a rare breed of Shinigami that have not resurfaced in many years."
"And why do you believe that Rukia and I are these. . . Futagoza of yours?"
"I haven't seen a pair in so many ages, I've lost count. In fact, it might've been right near the birth of Sereitei, should memory serve. They served under our captain commander, and died under his banner at the setting of the first stones of the foundation. Nonetheless, I digress. The Futagoza have the interchangeable name of Gemini due to their nature. Tell me, Hitsugaya-taichou, do you know the meaning of Gemini?"
"Twins." He answered curtly, trying to make a connection between what she was saying and what had occurred at the Kuchiki mansion.
"Yes—well in this case, not so specifically of the blood-related type. If Central 46 has such a case of actual blood-related Futagoza though, it wouldn't be much of a surprise to me."
"That doesn't exactly tell me what they are."
"Apologies. Like I said, it's been a while since I've seen a situation like yours. These people come in pairs specifically because of their abilities."
"Rukia and I are both water based elementals."
"And more specifically?"
"Ice—snow. Cold in general, I presume." If he wanted, he could do what Rukia could, albeit in a different manner. Thinking about it now, she probably could also do what he could, except on not quite such a grand scale. In essence, their abilities were the same.
Cerulean eyes widened.
"Gemini-twin abilities."
"So now you're probably wondering why these Futagoza are so rare, yes?" His brow furrowed.
With so many Shinigami in constant flux of coming and going between theirs and the human realm, why exactly would it be hard to find a match, a Gemini pair? It wasn't like all abilities were specifically unique to each individual—overall, they each were based on one basic element that should in theory, be possible to replicate within the hundreds of souls that joined both Soul Society and their own ranks specifically.
"You see, Hitsugaya-taichou," Unohana said, breaking him of his thought process, "the Futagoza are unique in one basic way that makes them have a potential that their fellow Shinigami might never even begin to dream of getting. Whereas two people of the same element can work together, these individuals essentially can become one. They are so attuned spiritually to each other's reiatsu that even their own zanpaktou will not acknowledge the other's presence as an enemy in their realms unless specifically dictated to do so by their original wielder."
Scrubbing a hand down his face, Toushiro got up, pacing behind the chair. The set of his jaw was tight, lips in a thin, thoughtful line. His mind was so overloaded with everything that had occurred to him, and now this just tipped him into near complete exhausted insanity. Pushing back growing frustration, he tried to sort verbally through his thoughts.
"So if what you're telling me is true—if what you're saying really does apply to Rukia and I," He began, finally turning to her, "when she did the incantation I remained unscathed not because I was protected by any barrier whatsoever, but because her own reiatsu saw me as a part of her."
"Yes. If you truly are Futagoza, then it would explain it."
"But she had frostbite."
"Only on her hands, Hitsugaya-taichou."
Toushiro slowed to a stop, his hand coming down to grip the chair hard. "Where the power originated from. With some focus she could've killed. . ."
Unohana nodded.
He was reeling at the thought alone of how foolishly close he had . . . he'd completely trusted her in that moment as he had done with no one else before. He should've been sharper than that. He should've seen what was going to occur and yet. . . he couldn't conjure up an inkling of doubt, of fear to her actions.
Now that realization unsettled him deeply.
"So then. . . what now? How does this change us? Side effects?"
"Please keep in mind, Hitsugaya-taichou, that I've only ever witnessed one case myself. From what we could see, it's the same as any other ability in the sense that to grow strong it must be practiced. How that will manifest with the two of you—should my hunch be right—will be tailored to your abilities. But whether you choose to apply to it, that would be a decision only the two of you could make."
Toushiro stood, gaze lost in thought. The possibilities of what they could do were unfurling before him, some shaping stronger while others withered in the face of his logic. They would learn from each other, he figured. Rukia would gain control while he got some of her ingenuity. Could they use each other as conduits, maybe? Come to channel their abilities through each other? Or maybe fight with the other as a reiatsu reservoir to boost themselves?
So many possibilities . . .
Rukia had potential—that much he could say with certainty. If they could learn to work together, the possibilities they could explore were limitle—no, he couldn't think like that yet. The girl hadn't even awoken yet and here he was, already wondering what would happen once she said yes. So he tried in vain to stem the sudden influx of excitement, of opportunities that poured like a waterfall he tried to cup uselessly in his hands. But try as he might, the captain's resolve and logic didn't take long to really break down as his hands clenched into fists.
They could take on battles that alone would've seemed a dauntless task, two minds learning to think in rapid succession in a synchronization that no one else would achieve. They would have the advantage on any field they walked together. He'd teach her to banish her fears, to straighten her spine with a supremacy achieved through their hard work and raw power. He could see it in his mind—Rukia standing proudly, violet orbs glittering with the inner storm he could feel whenever he looked into the mirror, the chill that crept up his arms as their powers flared to life, a dragon rising towards the heavens with a roar behind her.
Hyourinmaru.
The darkening of skies.
And a single man falling to his knees before her as his body shattered into shards of ice.
Aizen.
The thought was not necessarily surprising.
He had been the driving force behind Toushiro's relentless training after all for the better of a few months as Hinamori deteriorated into the shell of a woman she was today. He had been there in the ashen pallor of her cheeks, of the deadened weight that were her limbs—of the reiatsu that refused to spread throughout the body it was supposed to occupy.
There wasn't a day that Toushiro didn't remind himself that he had been too weak to save her from what should've been one of the guides in his best friend's life.
From a monster he had not destroyed.
But maybe this was his chance? Maybe there was a higher power after all that had heard his frustrations, had felt the rage that boiled under the surface on occasions because of how powerless he felt.
A chance at new beginnings—of destroying once and for all the disease that had seeped under the skin of Sereitei to leave a vast, gaping wound.
Because everyone knew that a wound could not heal unless cleaned first.
But he was Toushiro Hitsugaya—and even with the road that suddenly, abruptly stood open before him, he was no fool. Lucidity snaked through his underlying current of anticipation, rooting him once more in reality.
Yes, it could be possible to take down Aizen—in the future. Maybe farther, maybe closer. But all of that meant nothing if Rukia would not consent to the idea. And for someone in her position, what would possibly drive her to make such a decision? What would make her go steadfastly against it?
Really, it wasn't too much a stretch to figure the one person who could make or break the Futagoza ordeal—or anything in her life, really.
"There's too many things to take into account in this. And Rukia. . . well, she'd have to agree to it." He finally said to Unohana, mouth a thin line as he looked up at her.
"Of course."
"So then are you going to be the one to tell her?"
"Yes. Maybe not immediately, but certainly soon after she recovers. It's knowledge I couldn't keep to myself knowing it might be of use to her." Unohana replied, rising. "That is of course, if you are interested in the chance."
Cerulean gaze rising to meet his fellow captain's, the white haired youth gave a somber nod.
"Just promise me one thing. Don't tell her while she is in the company of her brother. Whatever choice is made, I'll respect it. Just make sure it doesn't have any outside influence that could cripple Rukia's judgement."
Unohana was still, gaze penetrating him with such ease that it left him momentarily frozen as if guilty of some crime now lying open before her. What it was that she searched for in his eyes, Toushiro didn't know. And whether she had found it there or not was tucked away behind the neutral smile that bloomed on her pale, gentle features.
"You have my word, Hitsugaya-taichou."
The tenth division captain seemed to visibly relax at her reply.
"Alright then. I think you have plenty of patients to get to so I'll leave you to it."
Unohana smiled. "Yes, it seems like you have brought me plenty. Have a nice day, captain, and may you visit me under better circumstances next time. "
Making a small noise under his breath, the short captain nodded to her before slipping out of her office.
"There you are!" Matsumoto exclaimed as he slid the doors to the office closed. "I was beginning to think you might have actually started getting a life."
The smile slipped from her face as he turned around fully, gaze rising to her for a moment before he gave a noncommittal grunt and headed towards his desk. Baby blue eyes followed him as he sat, his vice captain's brow furrowed in concern.
"The hell happened to you?" She asked, her shock unbridled as she took in his disheveled form. The shuffling of paper across his desk was her only reply as the captain tried to orient himself around the chaos he had tried to take a break from earlier.
"Did you finish the reports I gave you?"
"Yeah, but-" One hand automatically rose in her general direction, palm raised expectantly.
"Give them over so I can finish and-"
A knock interrupted them.
"Come in!" Matsumoto called, expecting a courier, or a secretary at the least. Her brows rose to her hairline in surprise then, to see a civilian stepping back from the doors she had just opened and bowing deeply.
The young woman was prim. It was the best way Matsumoto could describe her, what with the perfectly coiffed navy blue hair and reserved expression. She was a picture of propriety that made the older woman squirm—something to poke until she could claim victory with even the hints of a real smile on the civilian's face. There were no laugh lines around her brown eyes, Matsumoto noted, and the way she stood probably took much training to bring about posture with a spine so wickedly straight.
It wasn't surprising then, to spot the familiar crest of the Kuchiki family upon the breast of her conservative and plain pastel pink kimono.
The busty blonde exchanged a glance with Hitsugaya before turning back to their guest expectantly.
"Pardon me, but might you spare a moment of your time, Hitsugaya-sama?"
Turning to Toushiro with a raised brow, Rangiku hesitated for a moment before he nodded and she shrugged.
"I needed a break anyway."
She shuffled past the young woman, curiosity making her steps slow as she sluggishly turned and curled her fingers into the indents of the handles. Glancing up through the quickly closing gap between the doors, she managed to make out the back of the maid as she stood before the tenth captain's desk.
"My name is Kane, Setsuna. I'm a servant sworn under Lady Kuchiki-sama. . . . and I need your help."
By that moment, Rangiku was pretty much past convinced that she should stay at the doorway and glean what she could of the conversation even with her butt sticking out as ridiculously as it was.
It wasn't like this was the first time she'd done this anyway.
And she might've stayed that way, muting her reiatsu so the captain wouldn't know, except he made a 'one moment' gesture with his finger before tilting to the side to see past the servant's body and towards the doorway.
That scathing glare may or may not be aimed at her.
Well, okay then—guess that decided that.
Huffing exasperatedly, she closed the doors fully and was about to see if maybe she should try the window next when she had a better idea.
Because what good was a gossip if she didn't have more than one source?
A smirk blooming on her features, Rangiku rubbed her hands together in anticipation as she set off to find Ashido.
"So now that she's gone, what is it you need?" Toushiro asked, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk. Setsuna seemed to contemplate it for a moment before perching on the very edge of it, hands clenching into light fists in her lap.
"My master, the younger of the two Kuchikis, is in danger."
The white haired youth snorted.
"Yeah, it seems to be her state of existence." Unamused, Setsuna didn't try to hide the look of disapproval that hardened her gaze.
"She's part of a noble family, it's not like it's anything uncommon. Not to mention she's also a Shinigami. Danger is part of her life, whether she'd like it or not." The more he spoke, the bigger the frown became on Setsuna's face even as she tried to school her features into neutrality.
"I don't think you understand what I'm trying to say, Hitsugaya-sama."
"I understand perfectly."
"No, you don't. The Kuchiki siblings are in danger—specifically, my master. There's political maneuvers being made that-"
"Look," he said, raising a hand to stop her from continuing, "if this were something having to do with her as a Shinigami, I could have possibly helped, should it really have been a concern that could impact our work. But what you're telling me is something that has absolutely nothing to do with Sereitei, and thus is no concern to me."
Taken aback by the cold, unattached man before her, Setsuna straightened in her chair, brow furrowing. Could this man be the same person that she had seen walking her mistress home? Was this really the same man Rukia had spoken albeit awkwardly about before? Though the shock of white hair gave him away, Setsuna couldn't help but doubt herself.
Suddenly she realized, it was no small wonder why her poor master was in such turmoil over any inkling of a feeling for the captain.
"Pardon my boldness, but do you not care for my charge?" She continued on impudently. "Does she mean nothing to you? I thought. . ." Brown eyes wide, she seemed to flounder for words, searching his gaze.
Toushiro regarded her for a moment, eyes flashing with an emotion Setsuna could not pin down before he replied slowly, carefully, "She is a fellow Shinigami, yes."
They regarded each other in the sudden silence, Setsuna biting back the quirk that gave away the oncoming smirk.
"That was not what I asked."
Cerulean eyes instantly hardened.
"It is answer enough." The captain bit out.
"Yes, it is." She replied, sighing and finally looking away. Rising effortlessly from her seat, pale hands smoothed over imaginary creases in the pink uniform before her eyes met his again.
"I must get back before they notice me gone at the infirmary. Good day to you, sir, and apologies for wasting time."
An odd way to phrase that if he ever heard it, and try as he might, Toushiro couldn't just let it go.
"Yours or mine?" He asked with a raised brow as she turned to leave. Swiveling on a heel, Setsuna merely raised her chin high, jaw clenched tight.
"There is no man blinder than the one who does not wish to see, Hitsugaya-sama. Good day."
Momentarily floored, Toushiro failed to reply as she left his office.
"You can't keep putting it off, can you?"
Ashido studied the nobleman sitting before him, the latest trio of failed potential men sitting pristinely between them.
He didn't reply.
That did nothing to deter the redhead.
"That fire was intentional. It's not going to be very long before the whole of the staff figures it out. Actually, I'd be surprised if they hadn't already. You're leaving too much to chance on this. What will happen if you don't find someone?"
"That is no concern of yours." Byakuya replied calmly as he raised the cup of tea to his lips.
Mirroring the older man, Ashido took a sip of his own cup and tried to collect his thoughts.
It was no accident. That fire had been set right under their very noses and as a message to Byakuya. Why else would they attack a wing that no one else occupied?
Well, no one but the memory of a woman, anyways.
From what Ashido had gathered, that woman had been Byakuya's wife—that much information he'd received directly from Rukia once when wondering why there was a whole unused wing. Things starting falling into place, details filled in the cracks the more he worked under the sixth division captain.
For instance, that woman was still a very significant person to the head of the Kuchiki clan. So much in fact, that he refused to remarry and try to produce an heir. Granted, having children was near to impossible in Soul Society, but the higher families took to adopting into their ranks souls with the ability to reproduce—which apparently, Byakuya's wife had not been fortunate enough to be.
Now that left the Kuchiki empire vulnerable.
Clans were always clashing. It was so common even back in his time that such a dilemma didn't surprise Ashido in the least. Nonetheless, this meant that if Byakuya didn't produce an heir, he had to appoint one. By bloodline, Rukia would be next, but if their pig-headed ways hadn't changed, then she had no claim as head of the clan because she was female—hence the marriage to a noble, he figured.
But if Rukia was a noblewoman, why was Byakuya stalling and keeping such important information from his sister? Did he care for her so much that he couldn't bear the thought of marrying her off for such petty reasons? And why was Rukia not aware of these rules? Or had she just grown complacent in the idea, being raised into it?
That, he figured, was a conundrum for another day.
Nevertheless, what were they going to do now that their options were thinning out? There was always the lowering of the requirements, but among those, Ashido didn't see many that could be really worth letting go if the captain really was being protective of his sister.
And yet. . . there was one. . .
"Drop the need to be a nobleman, and your options open."
He let his proposition fall between them in the silence, watching the captain set his cup down to regard him across the desk. It wasn't hard to read the lightning quick 'what-if's' behind his gaze, the thinning of his lips subtle.
Byakuya was waiting for him to continue, he realized.
So Ashido did.
"There may not be many noble-born men, but there are plenty of respectable ones who would, in fact, fit what you want better—someone who would, at the very least, protect Rukia should the need ever arise."
Not that he thought Rukia needed it, honestly, but he figured that was something the elder Kuchiki wanted to hear.
Looking up, the redhead realized how right he was. On the surface the nobleman seemed uninterested, maybe even a bit bored—back just the tiniest bit slouched, chin tucked lightly, brow relaxed. But through the small amount of time Ashido had been in his presence, he knew that it was the slate grey eyes that gave everything away.
He waited, allowed the captain time to collect his thoughts as he took his cup in hand, wrapping long, calloused fingers around the dainty ceramic and lifting it slowly to his lips.
As he set it down his gaze met Byakuya's.
"Who did you have in mind?"
Of course Byakuya would realize that Ashido had already been toying with the idea some.
"I think that they complement each other in a lot of ways." Rangiku's voice chirped in his memories. "I mean, they may share the same basic element, but when it comes down to it, they're different in the ways that count."
Was he pushing something too far even though it hadn't yet started?
That and a million other warring things bounced around his mind as he internally debated whether to bring up the captain of the tenth division or not. If he did this now, it could make or break the friendship they had formed, Ashido knew this.
"You're holding Rukia tightly, right?"
But he also knew how to read the silence and the things that lurked there.
"Good."
Setting the teacup down, his gaze rose.
"I believe you know him quite well already."
Byakuya didn't move, eyes trained completely on him expectantly.
"Tell me, Byakuya-sama . . . what would you say of Hitsugaya, Toushiro?"
