tea and sugar


Really, a person's hands shouldn't be that pretty if they were only gently tipping a teapot.

Rukia is holding the delicate teapot in one hand, the other resting lightly on the lid. The lightly steaming amber liquid cascades into the matching teacup in a stream so steady he just knows there's some trick or skill to it.

All too soon, Rukia is righting the ornate pot, resting it carefully in her tray. Those pale hands lift the teacup like it's a small injured bird and place it on the table before him. She looks up to meet his gaze.

"Captain Hitsugaya," she gives him a small smile.

He watches her get to her feet, the kimono she's wearing falling back into place neatly, and lift the tray. She gives him one last exceptionally polite nod and then moves away, settling in front of Captain Hirako, who is lounging in his seat, looking not at all like he is particularly interested in the tea.

Captain Hitsugaya can hear him making small-talk with Rukia as she serves him and she lingers by the Squad 5 captain for a bit longer than is perhaps necessary.

Hitsugaya sips at his tea slowly, his eyes following the small Shinigami as she makes her way around the room to the various officers there.

Some months ago, while Seireitei was being rebuilt, Head Captain Kyoraku had stumbled upon this room, a tea room, where Head Captain Yamamoto had held his weekly tea sessions. In a bout of what Hitsugaya can only assume had been grief and sentimentality, Kyoraku had made the decision to continue this somewhat obscure tradition. However, not knowing anything much about tea himself, he had roped in several officers to carry it on instead. These officers include Kuchiki Rukia, his own lieutenant, Nanao Ise, and, surprisingly, Lieutenant Kira.

The three of them, similarly dressed in simple but refined kimonos, are moving about the room, catering to the few Gotei 13 officers who are interested enough in this sort of thing to attend.

Hitsugaya's tea is somewhat earthy, clearly a blend he has never tried before. The temperature is just right, and he can just barely taste the one tiny cube of sugar Rukia has put into it, a consequence of the rather sour face he had made his first time there, when he had gulped at the tea unawares and had been rudely taken aback by how bitter it had been. This had caused Rukia to laugh, breaking the character of the composed and polite tea connoisseur persona she was supposed to be playing, and amusedly suggest she add a bit of sugar for him.

Hitsugaya had begrudgingly consented and while it didn't do much to make the steeped liquid taste better, it did make it at least palatable.

Rukia has since avoided giving him that particular tea blend.

To say Hitsugaya is an aficionado of tea would be a stretch. True, he did enjoy a good cup, but that's more because his options were either that, water, or sake. He cares not for the blend, the price, or the reputation of teas, and he has long found a few he likes and has since stuck with those out of simplicity and laziness to invest in something new.

As is the cause of most of the unexpected situations he finds himself in, he is here because of his lieutenant.

Matsumoto had promised, upon hearing that her good friend Nanao was nervous about demonstrating a tea ceremony, to accompany the girl on the first day, going so far as to put her name down on a reservation. Of course, the only liquid that actually has Matsumoto's fancy is sake, and when the opportunity came up to partake in some hearty afternoon drinking, she had felt no guilt passing her reservation onto her unwilling but ultimately helpless Captain.

Captain Hitsugaya has since spent one hour of his week sitting there sipping tea, and as his eyes unobtrusively follow a certain Squad 13 lieutenant as she handles the ceramic teaware with those distracting hands of hers, he doesn't know if he should thank or punish his lieutenant for her flakiness.

Eventually, Rukia makes her way back to him. Over the past few weeks, it has become clear which of the performers are preferred by each of the guests. Rukia is the most popular, perhaps because Nanao often breaks character to scold, in good faith, her guests, and Izuru serves mostly as a reserve for the two.

As far as Hitsugaya can tell, these three have been chosen because of their noble backgrounds. Yet, despite her adoption status, Rukia is the one who seems best fitted to the job.

There are never many guests here—Captain Kuchiki had come by every so often in the beginning but rarely does now, Hirako comes when he feels like it, Kyoraku stops by to tease his Nanao-chan, and Hitsugaya occasionally sees a few other faces. It seems not many people care much for tea ceremonies, which is fine with him, since it makes the atmosphere rather pleasant and quiet.

Rukia carefully lays her tray down and then settles onto her knees before him.

"Would you like another, Captain Hitsugaya?" she asks him.

"Thank you," he pushes his cup over to her but his larger hands cannot handle the delicate piece of pottery like hers do.

He watches her prepare him another cupful, presenting it to him in the same way.

"What is it today?" he asks, somewhat anxious that she will flit away immediately.

"Kukicha." Rukia replies, her lips forming the word in a very practiced fashion. Her eyes meet his with a thoughtful expression. "Is it to your taste?"

He can only grunt his confirmation with a nod, the edge of the cup obscuring his speech.

Rukia grants him another smile and a small nod of her head. "I shall add it to your list then," she says, more to herself than to him.

He arches one snowy eyebrow at her. "I have a list?"

Her smile becomes something more of a grin. "That you do," she says. "I must be very careful what I serve the esteemed captain of Squad 10."

And Hitsugaya may not be the best at the subtleties of interpersonal interactions but even he can tell that there's teasing in her voice.

"Does Captain Hirako also have a list?" he asks, dropping his voice to make sure he's not overheard by that very captain. He keeps his tone topical, dry, just a passing question.

Rukia's eyes flicker over to the blonde captain, who is drowsily staring out the open shoji doors. "Shinji isn't that picky," she says, and when Rukia speaks softly, her voice is like a susurrus wind. "He drinks anything we give him. It makes me wonder if he can taste it."

Hitsugaya gulps down a particularly scathing mouthful. He is Captain Hitsugaya and Hirako is Shinji.

A small voice tells him he has never given her permission to call him anything else but she has already existed as Rukia in his mind for a while now, wholly without her consent.

"Does that make me special or a pain?" he asks, drawing her eyes back to him.

She blinks at him, long lashes making sweeping strokes over her eyes. Her smile tilts a little to the side.

"I don't think it's within your nature to be anything but special, Captain Hitsugaya," she says lightly. "As for if you are a pain, I think Lieutenant Matsumoto is best suited for answering that question."

The small pendulum clock affixed to the wall lets out a quiet bong and Rukia makes to get to her feet.

"Please excuse me, Captain," she says.

This doesn't require his response and he merely watches as she rises from the floor. Tea tray held before her, she gives him a pretty bow. "Please stay at your leisure." And with that, she leaves the room.

It's only to be expected. Lieutenants cannot dally for too long, having their own duties to attend to. Likewise, Hitsugaya prepares to leave, resting the now-empty teacup on the table for some low-ranking Shinigami to collect. He steps past Hirako's slumped and dozed body and leaves the room. The hour is up. It is time to return to the rest of his day.


fights and strong grips


There's a ruckus outside of his office doors but the loud clamouring and yelling voices do nothing to stir his slumbering lieutenant from where she lays sprawled on their office sofa, one arm thrown carelessly over the back of it, face pressed into an embroidered pillow.

Hitsugaya gives them a chance, thinking they will quiet down and move away on their own when they realize that they are mere meters away from his, a Captain of the Gotei 13 and a reputably short-tempered one at that, office doors.

Sadly, this does not happen, and it is with incredibly controlled irritation that he gets up from his seat and strides to the door.

Flinging it open, he comes across the following scene:

Members of his division (the bastards) surrounding and cheering on one of their comrades. Said comrade is locked in an inelegant brawl with an officer he does not recognize.

The temperature in the radius of about twenty-five feet or so drops drastically and it's enough of a sign for the rousing crowd to shrink back, catching sight of their captain. It does nothing for the two fighting Shinigami, however, and Hitsugaya opens his mouth, prepared to give them a well-deserved tongue lashing.

But he doesn't get the chance.

The blur of a black shihakusho and spiky dark hair descends on the duo. For someone of her size, Rukia has no trouble heaving the two (much larger) men to their feet, expertly grabbing one by the collar, yanking him back. At the same time, she grabs the other by his hair, resulting in a rather high-pitched yelp. She positions herself between the two, arms outstretched to keep them as far apart as possible.

Hitsugaya watches as his officer attempts to spin around angrily, clearly to see who his captor is, but Rukia's bones must be made of the same metal they make zanpakutos from, because he just can't manage it. The officer opens his mouth and by his expression, it is clearly not to say something kind, and Hitsugaya only has a moment to desperately wish his tongue suddenly falls out when Rukia tightens her grip and the man ends up wincing in pain instead.

Rukia's remarkably calm eyes catch Hitsugaya's.

"This one yours?" she asks, shaking the Shinigami by the scruff of his neck.

He can only nod and give his officer a warning look before she releases him. The man crumbles to the ground, face ashen as he observes the two much higher ranking officers before him.

Rukia gives the man a considerate gaze. "I'd be gentle with the punishment," she recommends to Hitsugaya. "I'm fairly certain this one is to blame," she turns her attention to the Shinigami she's still holding by the hair. The man's hair is short so Hitsugaya can see the way her slender fingers are gripping onto his scalp. He's much taller than the petite lieutenant, so his body is bent awkwardly to accommodate her grip. The look on his face is fearful but not contrite.

He, too, opens his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Rukia's tightening grip. "I'm more than willing to listen to you back at the Squad 13 barracks," she tells him, and her voice is rather kind. "There's only one thing I expect you to say here."

The man is clearly unwilling but when Rukia lets him go he dutifully gets to his knees, bowing to the Squad 10 captain.

"My apologies, Captain Hitsugaya," he mumbles. There's some sincerity in it, but not much, and he can detect that it's directed more at the Squad 13 lieutenant than it is to him.

"And what exactly are you apologizing for?" Hitsugaya asks, casting his eyes around at the other gathered Shinigami.

The kneeling man hesitates, looking over his shoulder at Rukia. Though she looks somewhat exasperated, she gives him a nod.

"Your squad members said something I could not leave unattended," the man says. "Our fight was the result of my attempt to correct them."

"Bullshit!" Hitsugaya's squad member says immediately from his position on the ground, and he receives the nods of his other squad members.

The shoulders of Rukia's officer stiffens immediately but with his lieutenant at his back, he says no more.

Said lieutenant looks at Hitsugaya a little warily, like she already knows what the rest of the story is.

Curiously, Hitsugaya asks the people gathered at large, "What was so offensive you felt it was worth starting a brawl in front of my office?"

"Nothing," his fallen squad member insists. "Nothing offensive, Captain Hitsugaya, I swear." He looks over at the kneeling soldier and surprisingly, there's no real heat in his eyes, only bafflement. "We were only talking about you, Captain, and I mentioned in passing, jokingly, that you were the best white-haired captain in the Gotei 13. He swung at me because I wouldn't take the statement back."

All eyes turn to the kneeling man, whose jaws seem to have locked up. It's clear he isn't willing to say anymore and it's with a heavy sigh that Rukia looks at Captain Hitsugaya.

"I apologize for my subordinate's behaviour," she says with a bow of her own—Hitsugaya notices the man drop his head in obvious shame at this statement—"I would appreciate it if you forgive him this offense, I can assure you it will not happen again."

Hitsugaya folds his hands into the wide sleeves of his haori. "I am more than willing to forgive," he says generously. "If my squad members can be assured they'll see justice."

"I give you my word," Rukia says readily. "If in your definition of justice the punishment fits the crime."

Hitsugaya looks at his officers. They probably didn't know from which division the insurgent officer had come from, so they could have had no idea why such words would provoke such a reaction. Looking at them now, he can see that they understand and, perhaps, even sympathize a little.

Hitsugaya turns his attention back to Rukia.

"I trust you to handle his punishment as you see fit," he says. "As will I for my squad members."

"Then we can put this behind us," she gives him a nod. With a firm hand on her officer's shoulder, she guides the man to his feet. He's still a little surly, unable to meet anyone's gaze as Rukia leads him away.

Hitsugaya watches them leave and then turns back to his officers, who are grateful that their captain has their back in situations like this.

Hitsugaya leans against his doorframe and points a casual finger in the direction Rukia and her officer has just left. "I don't expect him to know where this office is," he says. "You on the other hand, should know very well. So, why is it that none of you stopped to think engaging in a petty street fight in this location was a bad idea?"

His officers, who had just been congratulating themselves on having such an upstanding captain, quickly blanche. One look at their Captain's calm but glinting eyes let them know for certain that his promise of punishment has not been said for the sake of giving Squad 13's lieutenant face.


misdirected grief and beauty sleep


"Did I hear Rukia-chan outside?"

Hitsugaya retreats into his office where Matsumoto is rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. He strides past her, making sure he's comfortably behind his desk before he explains the situation to her.

"Ah." Matsumoto flops back onto the sofa and Hitsugaya already knows there's no use trying to rouse her to actually do some work. He may as well save his energy.

"They're cleaning the bathhouses after their shifts for the next week," he grumbles.

"How kind of them to defend your honour, Taicho," his lieutenant drawls. "But Rukia-chan can't have it that easy. Renji says she won't accept any help from the other divisions with the paperwork. And they're down a captain and one of their third seats."

The captain pauses, frowning.

"She's lucky to already be well-liked by the members of her division," Matsumoto rolls onto her side, stretching into a comfortable position. With a satisfied little smile and closed eyes, she continues, "Losing a captain like that—they must be taking it really hard."

Yes, Hitsugaya has already figured out that much. However, he hadn't stopped to think Rukia would be facing opposition from within her own division. From the looks of it, that probably isn't the case. But that grief manifests itself elsewhere—take the volatile soldier from earlier for example. It's no wonder the girl was able to materialize almost on the spot to retrieve her officer.

Hitsugaya lays his brush down on his table, getting to his feet once more. Matsumoto opens one bleary eye at him as he prepares to leave the office.

"Where'ya off to, Taicho?"

"Finish the artillery lodgers before I come back," he instructs her, pointing to a stack of bound books stacked precariously on one half of her desk. They had been sitting there for the better part of a week. "I'll be gone for an hour."

"Ne, Taicho, my beauty sleep—"

If he were in a better mood, he might have scoffed at her need of beauty sleep, but the door closes behind him before either of them can say anything more.


punishment and paperwork


Unfortunately, Rukia isn't in the tea room today. Hitsugaya had half expected it. This isn't the first time she isn't there, as there are just days the lieutenant's cannot make the one hour. Usually, Hitsugaya still politely sticks around—not for the whole hour but just enough to not be rude, though neither Izuru nor Nanao seem as comfortable serving him.

This time he doesn't have the patience and he quickly abandons the tea room doorsteps.

A bit shamefully, Hitsugaya hasn't been to Squad 13 since Ukitake's funeral ceremony. He used to visit somewhat regularly, usually when Ukitake invited him and whenever he needed advice, a thing he never explicitly requested of Ukitake, but which the older captain always seemed to pick up on and dole out appropriately anyway.

For a while now, Hitsugaya has thought that there simply isn't anything left for him at Squad 13, and he had been grateful that he wasn't subjected to a constant reminder of his loss in the period after Ukitake's death when the wounds were still fresh and he, and the Gotei 13 at large, were still grappling with what they had lost.

He cannot imagine what it must have felt like, and probably still feels like, for Rukia and her squad members.

His feet take him along that familiar path—familiar, yes, but also new, in a way.

Rukia is in the squad's meeting room. It's a building in the centre of a courtyard, stout, with a low ceiling. The entire space is hollow, with several mats laid onto the floor. The doors all around are open, giving the impression of an airy, somewhat indolent scene on this dry afternoon.

Hitsugaya sidles up to a doorway and peers inside.

There are Squad 13 members sitting on the floor, uncatagorized, just sitting where they may, comfortable and with obvious camaraderie among them. Rukia is at the front of the room, also on the floor, sitting before a short desk, sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, revealing her thin, gloved arms, shuffling through a stack of papers. Beside her is that same officer that was at Hitsugaya's division, brush held in his hand, ready to note down whatever comes out of his superior's mouth.

Rukia looks up from the documents and a hush falls over the room.

"Alright, let's begin."

What follows is evidently some sort of monthly meeting. The officers in the room are the team leaders for the various groups of officers within Squad 13 and Rukia spends some time talking to each individually, making note of their reports, progress, complaints and ideas. She listens carefully, without interruption except to ask questions every now and then and to address anything that can be immediately addressed. The rest she has her scribe make careful note off.

Next, she updates the gathered officers on the news of the Gotei 13—this part Hitsugaya is familiar with, having attended those captains meetings or received the memos sent from Squad 1. The rebuilding and rehabilitation are still ongoing and Rukia shares with her squad exactly how it's been going, the details of the reconstruction events, and updates on the progress. This the team leaders will then share with their respective teams at their own meetings.

Rukia goes on to make them aware of the changes she has implemented within the division, as per the recommendations of their last meeting, or the current status of issues that have yet to be fully resolved.

She ends with the invitation to come to her if they have any more concerns they can't think about right then and dismisses them.

This all takes about an hour or so. Hitsugaya has since found himself a little bench outside and he has shamelessly listened to the entire meeting. The officers begin to file out of the room, a few lingering behind to approach Rukia with matters they hadn't raised while there had been an audience, for one reason or the other.

This takes a further thirty minutes or so and then Rukia finally gets to her feet, giving one last instruction to her scribe about when to prepare today's meeting minutes for before he, too, scurries off.

Rukia is the last left in the room and as she gathers up her things, Hitsugaya steps inside. Rukia doesn't even look up.

"Did you enjoy the meeting, Captain Hitsugaya?" she asks.

"I did," he says easily. He hadn't tried to hide his presence, exactly, but had kept his reiatsu low enough that only a skilled Shinigami would have picked up on it.

"I hope it was informative," Rukia looks up at him through her eyelashes. "How can I help you?"

"My officers will be cleaning Squad 10's bathhouse for the next week," he informs her. Rukia's sleeves are still bundled up to her shoulders, presumably for ease of writing on so short a table, but Hitsugaya finds this a little distracting.

"With so many of them, I'm sure it shouldn't be a strenuous task," she hefts the stack of papers in her hands, resting the weight on her hip. "Well done, although I'm not sure that required you making the trip all the way over here."

"I came to see if my squad members were receiving justice," he says, half expecting this statement to illicit some ire in the young woman before him.

Surprisingly, Rukia rolls her eyes. "You are surprisingly pedantic, Captain Hitsugaya," she says, beginning to head for the door. She hooks a finger in his direction, asking him to follow.

Rukia leads him over to what used to be Captain Ukitake's office. The door is open and from within, Hitsugaya can see the officer from before, he who had been brawling in his division and who had just been at the meeting, acting as Rukia's scribe. The officer appears to be slowly and carefully wiping down Captain Ukitake's desk which, like everything else in the office, has accumulated a fine layer of dust.

"This is your punishment?" Hitsugaya says quietly, knowing better than to interrupt the Shinigami working inside.

Rukia merely nods, beckoning him to follow her to the adjacent office. Because there has never been an equal division of paperwork in Squad 10, dating back to Captain Shiba's time, the captain's desk and lieutenant's desk has always lived in one office. This isn't true for Squad 13, whose lieutenant's office is directly opposite the captain's.

Hitsugaya steps into Rukia's office which, despite being almost overburdened with files and papers and books, still appears rather neat. Rukia quickly moves a stack of books from the visitor's chair and deposits them elsewhere, gesturing with an absentminded wave of her hand for him to sit.

"We have not touched Ukitake's office since…well, since then," she tells him, "But it needs to be cleaned, regardless, and there are important documents in there. I'm having Sato do it, as punishment. It might not be the easiest thing for him, but I think it will help, all things considered."

Hitsugaya tries to settle into his chair but there's a stack of papers on Rukia's desk that somewhat obscures her from his view, and there's no comfortable position where he can still see her clearly.

"You don't plan to move in," he states.

"I do not," she confirms. "I am a lieutenant. A lieutenant's office is good enough for me."

Hitsugaya takes his time to look pointedly around her overflowing office, which causes the lieutenant to flush, that rush of light pink over her cheeks very lovely. He watches her shoulders hunch in defensiveness.

"Have I met your standards for justice, Captain?" she asks him, eyes a little steely.

This Rukia is nothing like the one he remembers from her execution—or even from a year ago, or even from last week in the tea room. The foundation is more or less the same but there's a kind of weariness and wariness in her. Her hair's grown out, the spiky edges brushing past her shoulder blades now, and framing her face sharply. Her eyes have a weathered look in them, experience, he supposes, and the added responsibility now on her shoulders.

"You have," he says simply. "We have the same standards for justice, Lieutenant Kuchiki, but not the same for our offices, it appears." And he makes a point of moving aside the stack of papers preventing him from seeing her properly.

Rukia immediately gets to her feet and all but snatches it from his hands. "Please. Do. Not." Her tone just borders snapping at him and she deliberately places the stack right back where it was. Now, she's standing, her posture elevated above him, putting his direct line of sight at her chest. Despite this, Hitsugaya keeps his eyes on hers.

He keeps his voice level, almost drawling: "If the paperwork is too much for you, you can outsource to the other squads. You're the only squad operating with only one of its commanding officers, the other captains will understand."

Hitsugaya means well but he knows immediately by the way her eyes frost over that he has made a mistake.

Rukia straightens up and he's the captain but you wouldn't know that by the way she's looking down her small pert nose at him—Hitsugaya isn't sure he's ever seen her brother look this domineering.

"If there's nothing else, Captain Hitsugaya, I'm sure you have your own work to get back to, as do I."

No one has ever dismissed him in such a contemptuous way thinly veiled by politeness. Hitsugaya doesn't even try to help himself.

"Yes, I can see that," he says, but before she can spear him with her zanpakuto, he rises from his seat and heads for the door. Before he leaves, however, he turns back to her. "I can appreciate what you've been doing with the squad in Ukitake's absence," he nods in the direction of said captain's office, "But the squad would function better in this time if their lieutenant is seen accepting help. They would feel less like they were alone."

Rukia's eyes remain steely but Hitsugaya's gaze is patient. He watches her shoulders droop. A sigh escapes her.

"Don't say it like that," she asks of him tiredly.

Hitsugaya frowns. "Kuchiki—"

"'Ukitake's absence'…you make it seem like he'll be back one day."

Rukia doesn't look sad, exactly, and he doesn't believe that she would let him see that anyway. Instead, she looks a little lost.

Hitsugaya lets out a sigh of his own. "My apologies, Kuchiki," he says, tone soft.

Rukia gives a wave of her hand but retakes her seat without continuing the conversation. "Please reiterate to your officers that Sato has been appropriately punished," she says dismissively.

And there's not much else Hitsugaya can say so he takes his leave. On his way out, he catches sight of Sato in Ukitake's office, where he's still diligently rubbing a cleaning cloth over Ukitake's desk, like he aims to be able to see his reflection in it.


preference and things in boxes


The following week, Hitsugaya is a little late to the tea room, the consequence of a rather unexpected meeting with Kyoraku. Nevertheless, when he eventually gets there, Rukia is taken up with someone else and he has to sit and wait to be served. Nanao eventually comes over to him.

Having been coming to the tea room since its opening, Hitsugaya has seen the lieutenant slowly become comfortable with this role. The harried and uncertain version of herself she had been in the first few weeks has faded into a more relaxed and calm demeanour. She balances her tea tray in one arm and adjusts her glasses.

"Are you ready, Captain Hitsugaya?" she asks.

Hitsugaya's eyes find Rukia. She's sitting with Hanataro, deeply engaged in a laughing conversation about something or the other. Hanataro's hands are clumsy with the fragile teacup and Rukia goes about showing him how to hold it carefully.

Of course, there's no strictness in the ceremonies, and the demonstrators aren't always required to serve them—the tea is freely available to anyone to serve themselves. And besides, most everyone there has already been served, only Hitsugaya hasn't, and Nanao is readily awaiting.

"Thank you," he tells Nanao.

Nanao doesn't put much flair into the ceremony. The steps are the same but there's more practicality and logic to her movements. There's no performance, not necessarily a detriment to the experience, since Hitsugaya only really pays attention to these things when it's Rukia, but the entire thing is over rather quickly.

"Kuchiki-san usually serves you," Nanao says conversationally as she slides his cup over to him. It's not a question but the question is still there anyway, and the real implication is actually I know you would prefer if it were her.

Hitsugaya gives a noncommittal grunt and takes an unsuspecting sip of the tea, only to immediately choke.

"Are you alright?" Nanao asks him, concerned.

Hitsugaya puts the teacup down with as much politeness as he can manage. "I'm fine," he says. "Do you have any sugar?"

Nanao uncovers the small pot of sugar but adds too much to the cup, such that there are some grainy crystals on his lips when he continues to drink.

Nanao eventually leaves him and Hitsugaya gives up on anything more than seeing Rukia from afar for today. But as he's on his way out, her voice calls after him:

"Captain Hitsugaya."

He stops his footsteps and turns around to see her approach him. They're out of the tea room and Rukia has abandoned the graceful lilt to her walk and manner. She walks toward him like she would in her regular Shinigami uniform, purposeful and with power. But—she's not wearing her Shinigami uniform; she's wearing a kimono, which has been arranged very delicately over her body in a way a shihakusho just doesn't. Altogether, it does something to him.

"Lieutenant Kuchiki."

Rukia looks a little unwilling, like there's some other reason to her calling out to him than her own volition or desire to speak to him. He supposes this is because of his provoking her at their last meeting—which he can acknowledge he did (though it good faith) and rather enjoyed.

"Are you free?" she asks him.

He's not. There are many things to do back at his office and Kyoraku has just assigned him even more responsibilities bound to keep him occupied for the next week at least.

He nods. "What is it?"

"Follow me," she says and walks past him.

And, well, Hitsugaya does, because who wouldn't?

She takes him back to Squad 13 and to Ukitake's office, which has been obviously thoroughly and carefully cleaned. Hitsugaya can feel the melancholy in the room (or within himself), even though great lengths have been taken to open the windows and doors leading to the garden behind the building to allow fresh and bright sunlight to stream in. The office looks like it did those times he would come to visit Ukitake, only the find that the other captain had just stepped out for a quick walk to enjoy the sunny afternoon.

"This is for you," Rukia says to him, and points to a sizeable box in the room. It's not something Hitsugaya recognizes but Shiro-chan has been clearly, if rather carelessly, written across the top in Ukitake's loopy writing.

"What is it?" he asks.

Rukia shrugs. "Don't know."

The box is a regular cardboard one, with the top flaps folded over each other to keep the box closed. Rukia takes note of his raised eyebrow.

"It has your name on it," she points out. "He left it for you. We didn't open it."

So Hitsugaya approaches the box and carefully opens it. Inside is a collection of fluffy stuffed animals—in those bright colours and with cutesy expressions that they usually have—and little bags and boxes of sweets and candy.

Hitsugaya can feel his face making a weird expression—struggling between annoyance, exasperation, and a fond smile. This weird face draws Rukia's attention and she curiously approaches the box.

Beside his ears, Hitsugaya feels a sigh.

"You're so lucky," she says wistfully.

Hitsugaya looks at her over his shoulder. Rukia is leaning forward next to him, her hands braced on her knees, peering into the box at the fluffy stuffed dolls. Her face is scrunched up cutely, her mouth forming an upside down v pout in jealously and obvious want.

Hitsugaya turns back to the box. "I don't think he exactly left it for me," he says and stands, hitting Rukia's protruding, hunched shoulder. She moves away but doesn't seem to be bothered by this. "This is clearly his cache."

Rukia is still pouting. "Still," she says, plainly reluctant, "It would have been yours anyway. He'd want you to have it."

Hitsugaya considers the girl, whose gaze hasn't left the box, with amusement.

"Fine," he says, just to watch the way her disappointment further scrunches her features. "I have no use for these things, but there might be something in there he really wanted me to have." He reaches down and picks up the box.

Rukia finally turns her large, covetous eyes on him. "What will you do with the rest?"

"Something, I suppose," he replies vaguely. Predictably, she doesn't seem too happy about this response but Hitsugaya declines to expand any further. He takes great pleasure in taking the box away from her because, despite all of her adorable pouting, she doesn't outright ask him for anything within it, even though it's clear that's what she really wants.

But it does do a good job of keeping her attention on him as she walks him out of the squad grounds, even if only by proxy. He knows the toys and candy are from the World of the Living and they can't just be bought at any street vendor or market in Soul Society, and he likes the idea of having something she wants that no one else can give her.

The box, however, does not contain anything even remotely worth keeping, he finds out as he examines it back at his office. Hitsugaya is a little disappointed—a part of him had hoped that there was something in there Hitsugaya could remember Ukitake by. But, after all, Ukitake's death had been unexpected, so it wasn't likely he would have prepared something like that.

And he really has no use for toys and candy. In the beginning, he had tried to hold onto the things he had been given by Ukitake out of respect and honest confusion (though he occasionally ate the candy). But Ukitake simply gave him too much and he had eventually begun to pass them off to Matsumoto, who, after building her own collection to a point where she was satisfied, had passed the rest to other squad members. Hitsugaya was aware that they didn't keep much of it, and instead had taken up carrying the things with them on their missions and patrols in the Rukongai, where they were often gifted to the young souls there for comfort after whatever racket had brought the Shinigami there in the first place. And Hitsugaya had been fine with this, thinking it a noble use of the otherwise unusable toys. And it gave Squad 10 a reputation for being rather sweet, a thing that had been linked directly to Hitsugaya's childish appearance but which he couldn't be too bothered by.

He considers doing the same with the box now in his possession but decides that he might one day have better ideas for them, ones that involve a certain pretty Squad 13 lieutenant.


guilt and advice


Rukia is clearly distracted, pouring him his tea with as much grace as usual but without any kind of presence of mind. Her movements are obviously occurring purely from memory, but this doesn't save her from overfilling his cup, the hot liquid surging up and over the rim and spilling onto the table before Hitsugaya can grab her hands and make her stop.

He does, but it's too late to stop a stream of it from rolling off the edge of the table and onto the portion of his haori that is draped over his lap.

Rukia snaps back to the moment. "Shit."

Of course, she moves to draw her hands away from his hold but Hitsugaya can already tell this will make things worse, what with her position and the fact that she's still holding the teapot, and he just holds on even tighter.

"Wait," he instructs, grabs a teacloth from her tray and lays it over the spilt tea. He still doesn't let her go, instead carefully removing the pot from her hands and putting it back in the tray before he finally releases her.

When this is all done, he mops up the liquid on the table. Rukia busies herself with carefully transferring tea from the overfilled cup to another vessel.

"My apologies, Captain Hitsugaya," she says. "I wasn't paying attention."

There aren't many people in the room on this day but they've still drawn some eyes towards their commotion. Conscious of this, Hitsugaya merely says: "It's fine. Why are you so distracted?"

Rukia doesn't answer him right away. She cleans up the mess, packs everything back into the tray and pours him a clean fresh cup before she replies.

"A few of my officers have put in requests to transfer," she says.

For a moment, Hitsugaya isn't sure how that inane statement is supposed to explain anything. But as he studies her expression, eyebrows drawn inward, corners of her mouth downturned, he catches on.

"There's always a few of those at any division," he says. "It's nothing new."

"I know," she responds, a bit tersely, presumably because of his feeling the need to point out something so obvious. "But that's almost always right after recruitment season, which we haven't had since before Yhwah."

"Not always," he argues, "Some officers want to explore more than one squad, some stagnate in their positions and think they have a better chance at a promotion elsewhere. Some take a while to find that their current division is not the one they're best suited for. These things can happen at any time."

Rukia is clearly not convinced. He can see in her face the tension created from resisting the urge to roll her eyes. He gets the impression that she doesn't mean to tell him a lot about the situation but to change his mind, she'll have to, and she doesn't want to.

"I know," she says again. "These requests are from officers who have served the longest in Squad 13."

"And so, you're blaming yourself," he says with a thoughtful sip of the tea—which is tasteful and enjoyable this time, "For not adequately filling the void left behind by Captain Ukitake."

"I'm not trying to fill that void," she says pithily. "I'm not so arrogant to think that I can. It's just a little demoralizing for the other members when some of the elders who have been the most loyal to the squad for the longest time leave."

"And you think you're responsible for them leaving," he states, the sureness of his tone clearly irking her.

"No," she stresses, "I'm responsible for not making them want to stay."

"Not your job," Hitsugaya tells her flatly, unimpressed. "We're meant to govern our squads, provide for them, protect them to the best of our ability, and lead by the example we want our squads to stand for. Squads are irrevocably linked to their captains, and occasionally their lieutenants, because we serve as the golden standard for Shinigami." Hitsugaya puts his cup down with a sharp clink and meets her gaze. "More often than not, it's the captain more than the squad that attracts officers. There's no way around that, unless it's Squad 2 or 12. Ukitake was one of the oldest captains in the Gotei 13—he probably raised those officers. It has nothing to do with you Kuchiki, it has everything to do with Ukitake."

She looks away from him. "Sure," she says, and reaches to pull his cup toward her, slipping back into her act. "Would you like another cup, Captain Hitsugaya?"

Hitsugaya ignores this. "You don't live in a vacuum, Kuchiki," he tells her. "When Captain Shiba disappeared, his most ardent admirers were quick to transfer to your division in order to serve under the only other Shiba in the Gotei 13. Processing those transfers is what brought Captain Ukitake and I together in the first place."

Rukia looks surprised at this unprompted nugget of information. Hitsugaya gives her a wry smile.

"Yes, you might not take my advice seriously, but I do have a somewhat similar experience to yours, so I can understand what you're going through," he says drily. "I wasn't helped by the perception people had of me being a child, and those few years following Captain Shiba's disappearance, Squad 10 had the lowest recruitment rates in a few hundred years. Of course," he looks at her pointedly, "While I was considered a prodigy, I didn't have the benefit of having fought in two wars or being a direct part of the inciting incident that gave us Kurosaki Ichigo. In the beginning, I didn't even have my bankai."

Hitsugaya leans back and observes the girl before him. Rukia looks thoughtful, but also petulant.

"I didn't hear any advice," she grumbles.

"Will you actually heed it?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"I'll listen," she tells him, "I'll only heed it if it's any good."

"You don't think I give good advice, Kuchiki?"

"I'm about to find out."

Her eyes are challenging, bright, pretty. Hitsugaya forgets himself for a moment.

"Well?" she prods.

"Let things fall apart," he says. "It's easier and faster to rebuild on an existing foundation, but it's better to rebuild from nothing. Start fresh. Squad 13 is wholly under your authority now. You can't be Ukitake even if you tried, but you don't need to be him to be a good leader."

Rukia frowns at this and Hitsugaya continues, "Trying to hold onto those officers might not be the best thing for you to do. How you deal with it, how you move on from it, is more important." He nudges his cup in front of her. "So make sure you do a good job."

Silently, Rukia refills his cup, foregoing the whole performance and setting it before him. Hitsugaya doesn't take it, looking at her expectantly. Rukia rolls her eyes.

"Fine," she says exasperatedly, "It's not bad advice. Happy?"

No, he's not entirely satisfied. This must show clearly on his face because Rukia gifts him a laugh.

"I might change my mind if it actually works," she offers. "I'm not about to stroke your feathers undeservedly."

Hitsugaya is immediately intrigued by the idea of her stroking his feathers and has to tear his mind away from the thought.

"Your execution should count for something," he negotiates.

Rukia adopts one of his earlier tones. "You don't think I have good execution?" she mocks.

"Careful, Kuchiki," he warns, "I'm still a captain of the Gotei 13."

"And I'm a lieutenant," she retorts, "A step below you but still far above condescending myself to serve you tea, Captain. Our ranks don't hold much credence in this room."

"No one's asking you to be here," he says.

"The Head Captain has asked me to be here," she corrects him. "No one's asking you to be here, Captain Hitsugaya. Yet here you are. Every week. I had no idea you were so fond of tea."

It's not the tea he's fond of, but it's very evident from the sharpness and narrowness of her eyes that she knows this—or at least, suspects something.

"I couldn't care less about the tea, Kuchiki," he says deliberately, watching the way her eyes widen at his bluntness. Rukia's eyes are a colour he truly has never seen before—purple, but not as plain as the colour describes. They are currently swirling with incredulity at the captain's forwardness. Her lips twitch.

"You are very straightforward," she says lightly, and then leans forward to take the teacup out of his hands and quickly finish it herself. She rests it on the table with none of her previous delicateness. "I don't know why you bothered skirting around me these past few weeks."

The clock bongs softly nearby and Rukia gets to her feet. "Please enjoy the rest of your stay, Captain Hitsugaya." And with that, she's gone, leaving Hitsugaya wondering how he always seems to lose the upper hand with her.


mentors and mentees


Hitsugaya's week of A Lot of Work is wrapping up when A Lot More Work (or A Golden Opportunity) lands in his lap.

"It's either her or Lieutenant Abarai," Kyoraku tells him. "And Abarai has declined."

The Head Captain is sipping something that ostensibly seems to be tea but which is probably more likely alcohol. He looks thoughtful.

"It will probably take a few years still but I think you're the best person to moderate her progress. It's not training, exactly, but more of a supervisory position. Your bankais are somewhat similar, after all, and you two have worked together in the past. I'm sure Kuchiki-san won't give you too much trouble—"

A lie. Hitsugaya thinks the girl gives him enough trouble already.

"—and she's almost there already. She just needs some encouragement every now and again."

"You seem particularly invested in Lieutenant Kuchiki," Hitsugaya says with a questioning eyebrow raise.

Kyoraku chuckles. "Something we have in common, ne?"

Hitsugaya feels his neck warm but he neither confirms nor denies this by staying silent.

"I've known Rukia for as long as Juushiro knew her," the Head Captain tells him. "I've seen her grow up by his side. I know of his aspirations for her. It's the least I can do to see those through."

Kyoraku truly is very sentimental, Hitsugaya thinks. Perhaps he always has been, and the younger captain just never noticed.

"We can only hope that things remain quiet for the near and distant future," Kyoraku goes on. "But we cannot rely on it. Rukia's bankai is very new and untested and I can only wait until it has matured before she can be made Captain. The only other option is to fill the seat with someone else, but Abarai and Madarame, while not fully matured themselves, have both refused anyway. None of the available bankai-having Visored are interested either. The seat all but belongs to Rukia. I'd like you to help her get there as soon as possible."

"You can do that much yourself," Hitsugaya points out for the sake of argument. Of course, he'll take the job, but given that Nanao and Matsumoto are close friends and Kyoraku is often involved in Hitsugaya's lieutenant's drunken escapades, he thinks it best to put up some form of token protest.

"Well, you see, I'm quite busy, what with rebuilding Squad 1 and all," Kyoraku says smilingly, like Hitsugaya isn't equally busy. "And I'm old now. You young ones should be taking care of each other."

Hitsugaya holds out for a little longer. "I'm not sure Kuchiki requires such help."

"No man is an island," Kyoraku responds wisely. "Directionless power is useless. It's true that you cannot instruct her on how to better use her bankai but you can provide a hand in figuring it all out. Everyone needs to be mentored when discovering their bankai. I think you're the best mentor for Rukia."

The Head Captain takes a sip from his cup and looks expectantly at Hitsugaya.

Hitsugaya lets out a sigh.

"Very well," he says at last. "Will I be the one informing her of this arrangement?"

"Would you?" Kyoraku asks eagerly. "That would be very kind of you, Captain Hitsugaya. I'll leave it to you then. Do let me know how it goes. Oh, and you can organize a meeting sometime later to give your initial assessment."

And Hitsugaya manages not to roll his eyes at Kyoraku obviously sloughing his work off on him, but only just.


free time and subtle suggestiveness


"When you're free this week, come to my office," Hitsugaya says blandly.

Rukia pauses the pouring of her tea, looking up at him sceptically. Her upper body is leaned ever so slightly over the table between them, the expanse of her pale upper chest and collarbones exposed by the neckline of the kimono serving as a lovely backdrop to her dark hair and eyes. She blinks, once, twice, and then leans back. His cup is only halfway filled.

"I beg your pardon?" she says.

"When you're free this week," he repeats, looking pointedly at the teacup, "Come to my office."

Rukia immediately sets the pot down. "I'm not free this week," she tells him decisively.

"Then that will be a problem," Hitsugaya replies, just as calm but with a touch of regret and implication.

Something similar to disbelief briefly crosses her eyes.

"Just because I said you were skirting around me before doesn't mean I wanted you to get right into it," she says flatly.

"Oh?" he arches an eyebrow in interest. "What exactly did you mean, then?"

The girl remains silent but the very tips of her ears have dusted pink. Hitsugaya reaches into her personal space and retrieves the teapot. She jumps at this but doesn't move away.

"If you have something to say, I suggest you say it now," he advises her and goes about pouring himself the rest of the tea. Having watched her do it for a few months now, he can imitate the correct movements. He probably lacks the grace or finesse or skill or whatever it is that makes Rukia so charming when she does it, but he's good enough to hold her attention, and maybe even impress her a little.

"No? Well then listen for a moment to what I have to say."

Rukia's blush moves down the sides of her neck, but she obediently keeps quiet, still managing to meet his eyes expectantly. Hitsugaya takes an agonizing sip of the tea, watches her squirm with amusement for a beat, and then continues.

"Kyoraku wants to make you a captain," he says. Satisfied with the way her eyes widen at this, he goes on: "As far as I have been told, there is no objection to this. However—"

Her little mouth, opening to say something, quickly closes.

"—your bankai needs some work before you can actually take the position. Kyoraku has asked me to guide you through maturing your bankai. I need to assess where you are at currently and report back to him."

Rukia's brow furrows. "Is that why I need to come to your office? So you can assess my bankai?"

"Obviously," he drawls. "What did you think it was for?"

Here she gives him a lovely flush. It's very easy to see the way her pale skin changes colour, that pink bleeding over her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. She, of course, ignores his provocation.

"The next two days are no good," she says, pulling in her lip with her teeth, gazing determinedly at the table as her mind clearly waddles through her schedule. "After that should be fine. When would you like me to be there?" Her eyes look up at him.

Hitsugaya has been watching her this entire time. He's smart enough to know that pushing too many of her buttons will not end well for him, regardless of whatever rank or power he has over her. But he just can't resist.

"Preferably for dinner," her eyes narrow and he salvages with, "That's the only time I'm free."

"You're free now," she points out.

To this, Hitsugaya takes a measured and deliberate sip of his tea. Rukia rolls her eyes.

"Fine, I'll meet you for dinner. Is there anything else?"

There's nothing else. A part of Hitsugaya wants to bring the conversation back to what her earlier expectations had been but he decides not to press his luck—he does want her to come, after all.

Rukia doesn't ask him anything more, seemingly thinking something over. Hitsugaya drinks his tea in her company and leaves her to her thoughts.


tardiness and invitations


Dinnertime for him is just when the sun dips below the horizon. There's still a soft glow of pink and orange in the sky but the first stars are glittering into sight above. This soft glow bleeds into Hitsugaya's office. The day's paperwork is neatly piled on his desk, ready to be distributed or sorted or stored tomorrow. Matsumoto has left early for something or the other he hadn't paid close attention to. The office is quiet.

Rukia is late.

Well, dinnertime is somewhat subjective. But he has been waiting for about twenty minutes or so.

When she does arrive, she looks hassled, tendrils of hair scattered around her shinning face, a little out of breath.

"Sorry," she greets him, somewhat absent-mindedly. "Shall we get started?"

So he leads her to the training grounds. She wastes no time drawing her zanpakuto and summoning her bankai. He then spends the next half an hour inspecting every inch of it, somewhat leisurely. Rukia looks good in black, but there's something angelic about her in white. Even the strands of her eyelashes haven't escaped it.

He has her demonstrate everything she's learned about the bankai so far, and when that's over, he lets her have a go against his shikai.

"You can only hold it for this long?" he questions when he sheaths Hyorinmaru.

The girl's frown is heavy as the mist disappears around her. "Yes, but it's always a bit longer every time I train with it."

He gives her a critical look. "You're exhausted today," he says. "And your stamina is poor."

Rukia's lips form a thin line. She folds her arms and looks away. "If you must know, I was up all night last night and today filing paperwork. So sorry if I'm a little tired."

"If we're going to work on your bankai, we can't have you being like this," Hitsugaya tells her. "You're going to have to find a solution to your paperwork problem."

Rukia closes her eyes like she's willing herself to not be irritated. "It's not a problem," she says. "It was just this one time. It won't happen again."

Hitsugaya lets it go, leading her out of the training grounds. Before his office, Rukia gives him a brisk bow.

"Thank you for your time, Captain Hitsugaya," and she turns to leave,

"Where are you going, Kuchiki?" he stops her, tone and expression unimpressed.

She looks at him over her shoulder—a second more and she would have shunpo'd away. "I'm going home?"

"I haven't dismissed you," he says decisively.

Her expression tightens, eyebrows furrowing. "What are you—?"

"Dinner," he says simply, jerking his thumb in the general direction of where the shopping district of Seireitei is. "I'm guessing you haven't had it. Or lunch. Or breakfast, probably. Come, I haven't eaten myself."

Rukia looks like she wants to argue. But then her mouth turns up a little at the side.

Airily, she says, "I wasn't planning to buy dinner tonight. I seem to have left my purse at home."

Hitsugaya rolls his eyes, but he's fighting a smile—that's as good as a yes.

"Even if it's not up to par with what Kuchikis normally eat, I can still buy you a decent dinner."

For the first time that night, she gives him a proper smile.

"Alright."


dinner and a show


The Seireitei night market is several streets lined with stalls. Hitsugaya and Rukia are by far not the only Shinigami here tonight but he still steers away from the larger crowds of black shihakushos. From the early days of his captaincy, he had become familiar with this market via looking for his wayward lieutenant. He takes Rukia to a quiet tent. Inside are several tall tables surrounded by stools. A middle aged woman with greying brown hair and sharp eyes stands behind a long counter, grilling yakisoba.

Her eyes light up at the sight of the captain.

"Tōshirō," she says familiarly. "I haven't seen you in a while. Not since all that fighting before." Her eyes move from him to Rukia. "And you've brought your girlfriend this time."

"Oba-san," Hitsugaya's voice has a smile in it. He angles his body to introduce Rukia. "This is Kuchiki Rukia."

Rukia bows her head. "Nice to meet you," she says politely.

"So pretty," Oba-san says wistfully, a hand pulling regretfully at the lined skin of her cheek. "You two have a seat, I'll make up something special for you."

Something special is especially heaping portions of steaming yakisoba. It looks like Oba-san has emptied an entire batch of meat into it. Rukia's eyes widen.

"It smells very good," she says, voice raised loud enough for Oba-san to hear her. The woman goes on cooking the yakisoba with a pleased smile.

Hitsugaya passes her a pair of chopsticks. "Don't be polite," he says, amused.

Over dinner, he has her tell him more about her bankai, what her first release was like and the events leading up to it. Rukia tells him about how she has been training with it and what Shirayuki's guidance has been like. From the sounds of things, Rukia really doesn't need much of his help.

"It takes many years to master bankai," he says thoughtfully. "Sometimes decades. The version you have now is likely only the weakest, simplest form. There should be more abilities that you'll discover as you continue to learn it. Each of these will need to be explored and mastered as well. You have a lot of work ahead of you."

"That doesn't phase me," she responds nonchalantly. "I never expected anything else."

"Good," he nods, "Because with the right amount of focus and determination, we can probably cut your time in half." There's no real need for Rukia to be rushed other than to fill the vacant captain seat. But it seems a waste of her potential to subject her to a slow and steady strategy. Besides, she has never been one to go at anything that can remotely be considered a moderate pace.

She listens to him thoughtful before she asks pointedly, "So what's the plan, Captain?"

"You should already be training and meditating every day," he begins. Rukia looks a little guilty but Hitsugaya ignores it. "I'll be monitoring your progress on a weekly basis. Evenings work best for me, so you should clear one night every week to meet me at the training grounds. As you improve, I'll arrange for you to test your bankai against the other captains. Kyoraku has a special vested interest in you, so we'll be reporting directly to him. Speaking of which, we'll have to meet with him soon to discuss everything we talked about today."

Before leaving the table, Hitsugaya withdraws his wallet. Rukia's a little baffled at his leaving the notes on the table, however, but he doesn't explain as he approaches Oba-san to thank her. He pulls out his wallet a second time.

Immediately, the woman scoldingly tells him to put it away.

"Not this time," she insists. "You two kids having a good meal is enough for me. Be on your way now."

Hitsugaya makes an effort to protest but it goes nowhere. Sharing a smile with Rukia, they leave.

"You knew she wasn't going to let you pay?" the girl asks him.

His pace is leisurely and she follows suit. He seems in no hurry to go anywhere as they walk through the market.

"She's like that sometimes," he says. "I've learned to adapt."

Walking slowly through the night market results in Rukia's eyes catching many things, namely the prettily displayed sweets across several stalls. By the time they're nearing the exit, Hitsugaya has bought her three different kinds of mochi (one even in the shape of little rabbits her eyes had practically turned into stars at), dorayaki, and dango. If there was ever any guilt in the girl at emptying his wallet, it quickly disappears, especially when he has a hard time telling her no, or imagining telling her no, or even thinking to tell her no in the first place.

The last stall they pass by happens to be a tea stall. Hitsugaya's haori brushes against it and the young woman behind it quickly tries to catch his attention.

"Sir, would you like a cup of tea?"

The woman, a girl really, has a pretty face and curly hair spiralling over her shoulders. Her eyes fix on Hitsugaya, who has no choice but to stop. Seeing that she has his attention, she quickly arranges the cups before him. "What would you like to have?"

"He likes Kukicha," Rukia says helpfully from somewhere behind him. He turns to look at her. She's nibbling on a stick of roasted dango, her eyes watching him with a sort of dark amusement.

The tea girl frowns. "Is Sencha okay?" she asks.

Feeling like he's missing something, he just nods and she sets about preparing the tea.

This preparation is obviously meant to be more practical than ceremonial like he's used to in the tea room. But the girl seems to make an effort to make it a performance anyway. The utensils she's using are not the clay pottery pieces he's become familiar with, and seem to be a thinner kind of decorative china. Her movements are practiced but not especially intricate and when she slides the final cup over to him with a smile, he finds himself inelegantly throwing his head back and downing it in one go. He scalds his tongue, and the girl blinks at him in surprise, but it's Rukia's snicker from behind him that leaves an impression.

He passes the money over to the girl as politely as he can and leaves as quickly as he can. Rukia has wandered away at this point. He catches up to her.

"You don't usually like Sencha," she says mildly.

It had been hard to taste the tea, but he can tell the after taste is like what he had experienced on his first day at the tea room.

"No, I prefer what you make for me," he says honestly.

She seems a little surprised at this open admission but then she smiles and continues walking, obviously pleased.

Hitsugaya lets out a breath of relief he hadn't realised he'd been holding.


an addendum to paperwork


One day, Hitsugaya meets Rukia inside Kyoraku's office. They aren't the only three there—Nanao is present, as is Byakuya and Renji.

A round of polite greetings later, Kyoraku lays out the plan to make Rukia captain of Squad 13.

"There are a few non-captain ranked Shinigami that currently possess bankai. None of them are interested in becoming Squad 13's captain. It appears this is more because of precedence than lack of ambition—" he nods toward Renji, who gives a somewhat sheepish shrug, "—as such, we have all agreed to leave the position vacant until Lieutenant Kuchiki has mastered bankai to a sufficient level to succeed Ukitake. Do you accept, Kuchiki-fukutaicho?"

Rukia gives Kyroaku a solemn nod. "Yes, Head Captain Kyoraku."

"Very well," the Head Captain seems pleased. He gestures to Hitsugaya. "Captain Hitsugaya will be mentoring you, with occasional assessment by Captain Kuchiki. Captain Hitsugaya, what are your initial thoughts?"

"Lieutenant Kuchiki's bankai is currently in its infancy," he reports. "The range of influence has potential to be expanded, and I expect that more attack components will be revealed with practise. She can hold it for a decently long time, even while exhausted. All things considered, I think she should be able to sufficiently master it in about half the time expected."

Hitsugaya's account earns him a shining look from Rukia.

"However, I think her focus is too scattered currently. It will require more of her attention and time dedicated to her training than is currently available. Squad 13 seems to be at a disadvantage when it comes to paperwork. I suggest decentralizing the division's workload until further notice. Squad 10 is willing to take on this work, with permission."

"Squad 6 as well," Byakuya says calmly.

"Hmm, you make a good point," Kyoraku says thoughtfully. "Very well, Squad 13's paperwork will be divided among the three divisions." He turns to look at his lieutenant. "What do you think, Nanao-chan? Should we also—?"

"There are six stacks of reports on your desk currently awaiting your attention," she tells him plainly.

Kyoraku turns back to them and clears his throat. "As I was saying, the paperwork will be divided among the three divisions. Is that all then?"

Hitsugaya declines to say anymore. Kyoraku and Byakuya spend a few minutes imparting some more information and encouragement on Rukia and then they're all dismissed.

Hitsugaya wants to talk to her directly, ostensibly to arrange what night they should meet this week, but Rukia appears to ignore him, turning on her heel and all but fleeing the room before he can even form the shape of her name in his mouth.


an addendum to punishment


Hitsugaya can tell he's being punished. He knows the moment he takes a sip of the tea that Rukia is exacting some kind of reprimand on him. It's Sencha—he knows the name now—and he hates it just as much as he always has, which is probably why he's being served it.

He sets the cup on the table with a sigh. "Rukia…"

"Please enjoy your time, Captain Hitsugaya," she tells him cheerily, smile so wide that her eyes are turned into small crescents—it's cute, but also incredibly terrifying.

"If you'll excuse me," she grabs her tray and gets to her feet, walking away from his table with deliberateness.

Hitsugaya is left to give the innocent cup of tea a morose look.

His punishment continues later in the evening, when Rukia arrives at his office in a tight keikogi with a lofty gaze. She doesn't explain the change in dress to him, or speak to him at all really. She gives him a very formal Captain and then immediately goes into her bankai.

The tight robe and pants change into that regal gown and she goes through the motions of showing him what she's learned since the last time. He hadn't expected any kind of significant improvement in only a week's time, and there's not, but he can see clearly where she'd listened to and implemented the various comments and suggestions he'd given her prior. She holds the bankai for a few seconds longer before it starts to take a toll on her own body and he has her release it. It leaves some frost on her hair and her breath creates opaque clouds in front of her face.

"There's a trade-off between time and power," he tells her. "The more you stretch out your power, the longer the bankai will hold. If you focus it heavily in the beginning it will probably fall apart faster."

Rukia nods and sheaths her sword. He raises an eyebrow at this.

"We're not done, Kuchiki," he says, drawing his own sword.

The girl has a very elegant way of sparring. In her normal shihakusho it's hard to see the precise movements of her body. In the keikogi, though, it leaves little to the imagination. In his distraction, Rukia backs him into a corner, one very sharp elbow pinned into his chest, the glinting edge of her sword resting comfortably on his collarbone—she only has to jerk her hand up to slice his chin off.

Her eyes are level with his, the up and down movement of her heavy breathing just barely visible. Her hair is tousled over her eyebrows, strands thinned out by sweat. Her mouth twists into a smirk.

"Seen enough?" she asks.

No. But he doesn't think his life is worth giving her this answer.

While she waits for his response, he carefully slides his foot between hers. One quick movement later and she's lost her balance, body pitching back. He manages to control this manoeuvre enough so that she doesn't hit the ground too hard, though her eyes still widen in shock.

Hitsugaya sheaths his sword and offers her his hand. She doesn't take it. Her face sets in carefully concealed discontent and she gets to her feet in a motion far more fluid and graceful than called for, brushes off herself with great care and then gives him a bow.

"Is that all, Captain Hitsugaya?"

Actually, he wouldn't have minded having dinner again (he was rather hoping to make it a regular thing), but it's clear it won't happen tonight. He can tell Rukia's upset with him—and he has an inkling why, but he suspects there's a greater issue at hand, one he'll probably have to chip away little by little. In any event, he has an evening of her time every week for the foreseeable future. He can wait.

"That's all for tonight."

She goes with a nod so brisk it leaves him wondering if he'll be drinking only Sencha from now on.


special treatment and realizations


Rukia doesn't serve him Sencha again. She doesn't serve him anything that week because she's noticeably absent from the tearoom. By the time he realizes this, it's too late to leave without looking terribly rude.

He does still get Sencha, though, which Nanao serves him with an apologetic grimace in advance.

Hitsugaya nudges the steaming cup discontentedly.

"Don't you have anything else?" he asks.

Nanao blinks at him. "No?" she says, confused.

He sighs. "Just my luck that you're out of everything else when she's not even here," he mumbles.

If Hitsugaya were paying attention to the lieutenant, he would have noticed the sharp raise of Nanao's left eyebrow. Against the quiet clatter of the teaware being replaced in the tray, Nanao says, "We've never served anything but Sencha, Captain Hitsugaya. It's cheap and easy to prepare, even if its taste is a bit…peculiar. It's why so few people actually come every week."

The captain frowns. "But I've had other things several times," he tells her.

"Yes, and it appears you've enjoyed them." Nanao gets to her feet. "Captain Hitsugaya," she dismisses herself with a brief nod.

And Hitsugaya drinks the Sencha, all of it, because maybe he deserves his punishment.


telephones and misunderstandings


Rukia misses their fourth meeting.

If this wasn't bad enough, she hasn't been to the tearoom at all. It's gotten to the point where if Hitsugaya can't feel her reiatsu while he's on the front steps, he'll just leave.

And if that wasn't bad enough, he has yet to receive his share of Squad 13's paperwork. There's clearly a hierarchy to the importance to these three problems and, given that his first report to Kyoraku on Rukia's progress is due soon, it's probably the first one.

But Hitsugaya's more put out by the fact that it's been almost two weeks since he's seen the little Shinigami and, well, he misses her. Whether she misses him is up to debate, given that he's still being punished by tight outfits and cool indifference in their sessions together.

She gives no explanation for her absence in the little note she has dropped off at his office earlier in the day, which Hitsugaya tucks away safely before he can think about it.

He's tempted to just go see her and find out why, but doesn't think that will go well so he decides to get the progress report over with and goes to see Kyoraku instead. There, he happens to tell the Head Captain, as a conversational aside, that Squad 13's pretty lieutenant hasn't yet delivered any of the paperwork he's supposed to be helping them with.

Unbeknownst to Hitsugaya, before the day could properly finish, Kyoraku would pass this on to Nanao, who would mention it briefly to Renji via small talk as the latter had lunch in the lieutenant's meeting room. Renji, somewhat curious, would then ask his captain about it and Byakuya, having also not received any paperwork but under the assumption that Squad 13 and Squad 10 didn't need him, would eventually confront Rukia herself the following day during their weekly lunch date, a usually sacred occasion where even Renji was considered an outsider.

And like an extended game of telephone, Kyoraku's teasing:

"Captain Hitsugaya seemed awfully disappointed Rukia hasn't given him more work."

Becomes Byakuya's tart:

"Captain Hitsugaya appears to still be awaiting your division's paperwork, as am I. He lodged a complaint with the Head Captain."

Rukia manages to placate her brother with some excuse of forgetfulness and promises that she does, in fact, need his help. Byakuya, who only wanted to be of use to her, happily, insofar as one can describe him as happy, accepts this.

Following which Rukia immediately returns to her division, gathers up all of the useless and ultimately unimportant pits of paperwork she can find, and then marches over to the Squad 10 offices. Fate being on her side, Hitsugaya is there, in the midst of giving Matsumoto a lecture about something or the other that's promptly interrupted by the dull thud of a stack of papers hitting the surface of the Captain's desk.

Hitsugaya blinks at it and then looks up at the slightly huffing Shinigami. Matsumoto, draped over the couch and on the edge of nodding off, sits up, suddenly alert.

"The paperwork you requested," Rukia says shortly. "My apologies for my tardiness. Please let the Head Captain know I have delivered them as requested. If there's nothing else—"

A brisk nod, a quick turn on a heel and she's almost out of the office before Hitsugaya has the presence of mind to say, "Rukia—"

She either doesn't hear or chooses to ignore him. Hitsugaya's eyes catch Matsumoto's.

Go! she mouths to him, gesturing with urgency.

Outside his office, he manages to catch up with her before she leaves the division's threshold. With a captain appearing in front of her, Rukia has no choice but to stop.

"Why are you angry?" he asks. The at me goes unspoken but it permeates the space between them tangibly enough.

"I'm not angry," she states, folding her arms over her chest in a way Hitsugaya can only interpret as, well, angry.

"You're a picture of happiness and content," he deadpans, which causes her to scowl. Actually, she's the picture of tiredness, skin wane and eyes heavy. This diminishes the potential of her wrath a little, which is the only reason the captain feels safe standing before her right then.

Rukia takes a deep breath. "I can handle my division's own paperwork. I don't need you to imply to my brother and the Head Captain that I can't. I especially don't need you to complain to them when I don't meet your expectations. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

Like a schoolyard bully, Hitsugaya positions himself to block her path. She bumps into him only to recoil like he's the temperature of the sun and she's a very flammable slip of paper.

"I never implied that you couldn't handle anything," he says. "I wouldn't dare. But there's not enough time in the day to handle a regular captain's duties and bankai training. This is true of everyone who has ever trained to master bankai, not just you. Couple that with the fact that all divisions have an increased workload after the war and your division's lack of a commanding officer and I doubt you have enough time to think straight, much less put in the work needed to master your bankai in the time expected of you."

Rukia doesn't look convinced but the scowl has turned into just a frown. "You did, didn't you?" she counters. "No one ever suggested the work was too much for you."

"I was the exception, Rukia, not the rule," he tells her, which is true but probably not the thing he should have said.

Her eyes narrow. "Sorry not everyone is as perfect as you," she says coolly. "And I would appreciate if you come to me first with your complaints before you go to my brother and the Head Captain." She succeeds in sidestepping him to leave this time.

Hitsugaya turns in her direction. "Rukia—"

"And don't call me Rukia, Captain Hitsugaya."


using Matsumoto for her intended purposes


In the span of only an afternoon, Hitsugaya's surprisingly resourceful lieutenant is able to provide him with two vital pieces of information:

One, how his one innocuous comment to Kyoraku had spiralled into an irate Rukia bringing him a stack of paperwork that would be the least bit helpful to anyone to complete, and two, what the past few weeks had been like for the Squad 13 lieutenant.

According to Matsumoto, Squad 13's officers had, for the most part, attached themselves to Rukia in the loss of their beloved captain and reassignment of one of their third seats. Having always fostered a familial environment, Ukitake had made it no secret that he expected Rukia to succeed him one day, although no one would have ever suspected for that to happen so soon or under such circumstances. There were those few steadfast officers who were too affected by the captain's death to remain but their departure had resulted in a squad who could only look to their lieutenant for support. And Rukia was doing a remarkable job, according to them. She was training to master bankai, taking care of the squad, doing her part in Seireitei's rebuilding and doing all of the captain's paperwork and half of the lieutenant's (Sentaro was preparing to take over the lieutenant's duties, after all). Squad 13 was duly impressed and relieved. Morale was at a high unexpected of their situation. Rukia had really made an impression on them. They could hold their own amongst the other squads just fine.

"She doesn't complain," Matsumoto tells him. "Even if she sometimes has to sleep in her office to get it all done. She doesn't turn anyone away either, whenever they need something. She still holds all the squad's meetings. She knows about everything that's going on in her division. She's the main problem-solver right now, everyone brings their problems to her. The squad thinks she's as good as any of the captains."

Matsumoto pauses and gives him a sideways glance. "They use you as a comparison a lot, taicho," she says. "Probably because of your age or zanpakuto or because you're supervising her bankai training or because the situation is kind of similar to how you became a captain. And that little scuffle the other day doesn't help, either."

"It can't be because of such shallow competitiveness," Hitsugaya shakes his head at the thought. "Rukia is too smart to let something like that get to her."

Matsumoto throws an embroidered pillow at him. It speaks to her aim that he has to duck under his desk to avoid it.

"It's not and you're not listening," she tells him plainly. "Rukia's officers think the world of her. They expect her to fill a lot of gaps, more than a normal captain would probably have to. She must feel like she has a lot to prove, and in a way, she does. If anyone should understand what that's like, it should be you, taicho. Telling her she can't do it alone is probably undermining her more than anything, especially when it's coming from you, regardless of what your actual intentions are."

Hitsugaya gets back onto his chair. "I can see your point," he says begrudgingly. "I could have done things…differently," he admits.

Matsumoto smiles. A moment of thoughtful silence passes. And then:

"So how long have you and Rukia been dating?"


an addendum to things in boxes (and apologies)


Left with no choice, Hitsugaya goes to Squad 13. But he doesn't go empty-handed.

"Here," he deposits the fuzzy white teddy-bear on Rukia's desk. "I'm sorry."

The girl's elbows are propped up on the desk surface, holding a sheet of paper in her hands, the end of a brush held between her teeth. Her shoulders are hunched up on either side of her head, giving detail to the narrowness of her frame.

Her eyes stare at the toy blankly for a moment.

She pops her mouth open to allow the brush to fall from her lips. She lays the paper flat on the table and looks up at him. Her eyes appear very round from this angle, framed by long eyelashes that curl outward at the corners.

"Are you bribing me?" she asks.

"No, I'm apologizing. I want to help you because I don't like seeing you almost too tired to stand when you come to train. I don't like that you're overworking yourself. I don't like that you're choosing to overwork yourself rather than accept my help. But despite this, even though I meant everything I said, I should have told you first. Which is what I'm doing now."

Rukia considers him for a moment more before her eyes drop to the teddy bear. It's a pure white bear with disproportionately large beady eyes and a purple ribbon tied around its neck. Hitsugaya had chosen it out of the box because the ribbon had reminded him of Rukia's eyes.

She reaches forward and takes it from him. She gives the bear an experimental squeeze.

"I can do it myself, you know," she says.

"I know," he tells her kindly, "But you don't have to."

Their gazes hold for a quiet moment. Rukia turns her attention back to the toy.

"What's his name?"

Now it's Hitsugaya's turn to stare blankly. "Whatever you want?"

"Hakuryuu."

"No."

"Yes."

"It's a bear."

"Given by a dragon."

"Pick something else."

A beat of silence passes.

"No."


twilight conversations


"I never knew Ukitake did so much work," Rukia says to him.

They're lying on the grass that's a little damp and very cold from where her bankai had frozen it earlier. What had started as a well-deserved rest after their final spar had turned into watching the first stars appear in the sky above and then that had turned into complacent relaxation and quiet murmurings back and forth.

Their bodies are laid with about a forty-five degree angle between them. Some of her hair is spilled over his and if he were to move his hand a few inches closer to her in the space between them, he would have come in contact with her slightly curled little finger.

"And I don't just mean what a captain does," she goes on. "I already knew about that. I mean, he had his way of doing things. He knew everyone's name. He kept a bit of the favourite tea of everyone who often came by his office. He would move Seireitei stone by stone one inch to the left if he thought it would help you. I don't think the squad really knows how to function without him."

"They'll learn," Hitsugaya tells her. "And you'll learn how to meet their needs. Don't expect it to happen overnight or for everything to be fine if you just emulate Captain Ukitake. He didn't want you to succeed him because he thought you could replace him. You're enough, Rukia. You've always been enough."

Rukia doesn't immediately reply. When she does, it's a deadpan: "Calling me Rukia now?"

Hitsugaya tucks his hands under his head. "I think I am."

"You—"

"Just call me Tōshirō," he drawls and succeeds in shutting her up.


firsts and secrets


"So how long have you two been dating?"

It's not enough that Matsumoto chooses to ask this question in the five minutes of his day that Hitsugaya gets to see Rukia, but she also directs this question to the other lieutenant herself.

Rukia doesn't pause in leafing through the Squad 13 paperwork Hitsugaya has just returned to her. Her eyes dart up to meet his over the desk for a brief moment.

"A couple weeks?" she muses to Matsumoto, who looks absolutely delighted at this.

"But, specifically when?" she presses. "And what was it like? In your own words, preferably in chronological order, how did it happen?"

Rukia hefts the stack of papers onto her hip before turning to the lieutenant. "Is it important?"

"Very important," Matsumoto bobs her head with seriousness. "I need a detailed account, you know, for the archives."

Hitsugaya frowns. "What archives?"

Rukia nods understandably. "Ah yes, the archives. Well, what would you like to know?"

"Everything," Matsumoto replies excitedly. "First date, first kiss, first time you had feelings, just everything."

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya tries to warn his lieutenant while keeping an eye on the other lieutenant. After all, he only just found out they were dating. He doesn't even know the answers himself.

Rukia pretends to be thoughtful. She counts her fingers. "Let's see…the Seireitei night market that first day of bankai training, soon, and…" she smiles, drawing a slender finger over her lips, "…a secret."

While Matsumoto reacts to this, Rukia turns her attention back to Hitsugaya, who's mind is several beats behind, lingering on the soon.

"Thank you for your help, Captain Hitsugaya," she gives him a respectful nod. "I'll let you know if there's anything else."

And she leaves the office like she hasn't just short-circuited the brains of Squad 10's two commanding officers.


news and unexpected gifts


When Seireitei's rebuilding could be considered at least structurally finished, Kyoraku opens the doors of Squad one's courtyard. The atmosphere has a tinge of sadness but it's almost unnoticeable under the warm glow of lanterns and the chattering of voices.

In a quiet corner of the courtyard and under a slight drizzle of rain, Hitsugaya tells Rukia the date of her captain's exam. If she thinks it's happening all too soon, she doesn't let on. Hitsugaya's forewarning means she's somewhat prepared for when Kyoraku makes the same announcement to the group at large.

Amongst the immediate crowd of people sidling up to Rukia to give their congratulations and wish her well, Hitsugaya slips something into her hand and her subsequent unexpected smile baffling Shinji in the midst of him trying to impart advice from his own captain's exam is of no consequence.


hiding places


The number of people arriving at his office to look for Rukia was over ten by the time Hitsugaya decided to put the cap back on his bottle of ink and hang up his brush. There was just no getting any work done when someone was knocking on his door every two minutes.

The latest in a string of people is Nanao, who is the first to actually wait for him to tell her she can come in before she pushes open his door.

"Sorry to disturb you, Captain Hitsugaya, but the Head Captain—"

"I told Kyoraku less than ten minutes ago that I don't know where Rukia is," he cuts her off. "If you wanted her to stay, you should have held on to her after the ceremony was finished."

"We didn't know she'd run," Nanao says, casting her eyes about the office suspiciously anyway.

Hitsugaya pretends not to notice. "Matsumoto made no attempt to hide what her plans were for the after party. You should have expected it." His tone is disapproving and amused at the same time. He's not sure half of what Matsumoto has planned is even legal. He would have run too.

"Be that as it may, there's no point to any of it if the guest of honour is missing." Nanao's gaze falls on the steaming cup of tea on the captain's desk. "If you do see her, please send her our way, Captain Hitsugaya."

"I'll do my best," he promises vaguely.

Nanao leaves his office quiet for all of thirty seconds before his next visitor waltzes in. Hitsugaya almost chips a tooth on the edge of his teacup, hastily putting it down. He'll probably never get used to this man.

"Captain Hitsugaya, I am looking for—"

"For Rukia, yes, everyone is, Captain Kuchiki," Hitsugaya waves his hand dismissively. "I'll tell you what I told everyone else: I don't know where she is and at this point, I'm not sure I want to."

Byakuya's immaculate brow subjects itself to a frown. "I see," he says, somewhat shortly. "How unfortunate. Please excuse me."

When Byakuya's reiatsu has faded enough, Hitsugaya lets out a sigh.

"I think he still doesn't like me."

Without opening her eyes, Rukia murmurs, "He's disappointed you don't know where your own wife is."

Hitsugaya looks down at where her head is laid against his leg, completely hidden by his desk. The brand new haori she had only received that morning is folded neatly in her lap. She had been awfully particular about not getting the white garment dirty while she sat on the floor next to him.

"And who's fault is that?" he asks her.

Rukia smiles without answering him. "Forgive me for wanting to spend my anniversary here with you," she says.

Hitsugaya freezes. His mind catapults through the last ten years of their lives to remember if this date had any significance. It hadn't been a full year yet for marriage, and he wouldn't forget something like that. It wasn't their first date or any of their firsts either. Shit, had he forgotten something important?

Rukia's hand comes up to pinch the back of his where it's carded into her hair. "Don't worry about it."

Which would have been easier said than done, if not for the incessant knocking on his door, no doubt another Shinigami looking for Squad 13's new captain.


the end and the beginning


"You're late," Renji says to Rukia when she meets him at the Senkaimon.

"Forgive me," she says irritably. "I had to get a new gigai. You can't expect me to keep using the old one, can you?"

Renji shrugs. "Fair enough. You've made the captain a little tense, though. He has a thing about being on time."

"Well shit," she swears. "Who have I managed to piss off? Who's leading this mission anyway?"

"Captain Hitsugaya," Renji tells her and points to where the captain and his lieutenant are gathered by the gate with Ikkaku and Yumichika. "Squad 10's captain. Have you ever met him? He was the first one to confront Aizen at Central 46. Spent a week in the Fourth for it."

Rukia turns to look. Captain Hitsugaya is standing with his arms folded as Squad 12 works on opening the gate. His lieutenant is prattling away about something or the other next to him and Ikkaku is chasing Yumichika with the wooden sword he's insisting on bringing along. As if feeling her gaze on him, the young captain looks over and catches her stare. Frown becoming more pronounced, he impatiently waves her and Renji over.

Renji takes a few steps in their direction before he looks over his shoulder at her. "You coming?"

"Yes?" Rukia shakes herself out of her reverie. "Coming."


AN: Hey. I posted this as a new chapter so everyone would receive the update notification and then deleted the previous chapters. None of the old stuff has been changed.

Behold! another failed attempt at writing a short oneshot/drabble! Maybe I just don't know what I'm doing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, sorry for the rushed ending, I didn't know where this was going when I started it but it ended up here. Anyway, that's all. Hope you enjoyed it, even if just a little bit. Till next time :D