Part 2: Reciprocity
Chapter 4: Rukia gets stronger; Hitsugaya gets chatty
"What I don't have is doubt, Kuchiki. I don't doubt Hinamori's abilities just like I don't doubt my own, or yours for that matter."
And so began the most arduous training Rukia had ever done in her life. She made a mental note to really appreciate her captain more and vowed to bring him back every goodie in the human world she came across because, surely, he must have a very special place in his heart for her if he never subjected her to this.
This, which was facing down five hollows at once with only her sealed zanpakuto. Granted, Rukia had faced much more intense battles. These five hollows, though fairly strong, did not even come close to the lowest ranked Arrancar, as far as she could tell. What was special about these hollows however, was that, originally, she had started off facing only one.
"Now you're just avoiding them, Kuchiki," Hitsugaya tsked from where he stood on the side lines.
Rukia spun around, deflecting the savage bite of one of the hollows, and leapt out of the way. With so many of them in the arena with her she didn't have time to pause or regroup because one was always prepared to lunge for her. She didn't have time to look over at Captain Hitsugaya but she hoped he knew the scowl on her face was for him.
She swung her zanpakuto at the hollow nearest to her, which she'd affectionately nicknamed Ugly #3. It was a good strike, cutting clean into its shoulder and across its torso, an attack that would incapacitate any normal hollow, allowing her to easily finish it off in a subsequent strike.
Instead, Rukia swore, readying her zanpakuto for another hit. The two halves of Ugly #3 leaned precariously on either side, held together by a stretch of skin that snapped in two. But instead of falling apart, Ugly #3 began to regrow its missing limbs and body parts from each half and soon there were two Ugly #3s before her—well Ugly #3 and #6.
A bell rang, causing Rukia to jerk her attention to the small table next to Captain Hitsugaya. On it was a plain hourglass whose last grains of sand had settled into the bottom bulb.
"Stand down, Kuchiki," Hitsugaya told her calmly, already reaching for the zanpakuto strapped to his back. Rukia frowned and wanted to protest but quickly shunpo'd out of the arena, standing aside as Hitsugaya took her place.
From there she had a good view of the captain quickly and effortlessly taking care of the hollows with one precise hit through each bony mask—the only way to kill them.
When Rukia had entered the arena to see the one, low-tier hollow and Hitsugaya had said she only had five minutes to dispatch it without releasing her zanpakuto, she'd thought with some bafflement that this would be easy. And then she'd thought with some suspicion that it would be too easy.
Her first mistake had been not aiming for the mask first. Ugly the Original was neither fast nor strong. It seemed its only advantage was being able to multiply, which it did with the shallowest of injuries. Her first hit had taken an arm off, which Rukia had felt quite good about until she watched with horror as the arm grew another arm and then legs and then a head, and Hitsugaya's strange smile at her bemusement earlier had floated up into her mind.
Her second mistake was thinking that only Ugly the Original could multiply—this was her dumbest error and you can imagine how that worked out for her by yourself.
Her third mistake was thinking she needed to completely separate a piece of the Uglys for them to multiply and her last mistake was thinking, though even she knew this was far-fetched, that killing Ugly the Original would kill the others. By the time she had made and learned from these mistakes, there were already five of them with her.
Hitsugaya walked towards her. Rukia wasn't quite sure what kind of face she was making, shoulders hunched as she breathed heavily, but he raised an eyebrow as he approached.
"I don't know if it's more impressive that you were able to land so many strong attacks in five minutes or that you managed to create that many opponents in just five minutes," he said flatly.
Rukia managed a frown. "You don't mince your words, do you Captain Hitsugaya?" she said between breaths.
He ignored her. "Are you injured?" he asked.
She shook her head, limp strands of hair brushing across her face.
"Good. Rest up for fifteen minutes and then have a go at it again. Five minutes, Kuchiki, I don't want to see so many mistakes again."
Under her breath Rukia grumbled, "If you'd just give me more time…"
Hitsugaya, having heard her clearly, fixed her with an unimpassioned gaze. "Shinigami have died from far easier opponents in less time, Kuchiki," he reminded her.
"You could let me work my way up to the five minutes," she protested. "How am I supposed to learn?"
He remained unmoved. "I am motivating you by your failure, not your improvement," he said, voice irritatingly calm. "Which do you think is more likely in reality?"
Rukia looked away, too tired to argue and unwilling to admit that he had a point. Besides, Captain Hitsugaya seemed to be very particular about time and she didn't want to spend her precious fifteen minutes butting heads with him.
Rukia didn't kill her first hollow until her third attempt.
At the beginning of the second round she felt like she was prepared this time but when Hitsugaya released the hollow it was much bigger and stronger than before, and she realized that the captain had more tricks up his sleeve that she had given him credit for.
She created seven hollow copies in her second attempt and nine in her third attempt, killing one. In her fourth attempt she created six and killed two. Her fifth attempt was her best, creating six and killing four. Each time the hollows were much more difficult to defeat than the previous times but the more she made attempts, the more she realized that the increase in the hollow's power was not the problem. It was the damn five minutes. Every time the bell rang, Captain Hitsugaya would take her place and quickly finish them off, never giving her any extra time.
After the fifth attempt, Hitsugaya declared they would stop for the day. Rukia, still unhappy at not being able to completely clear the field on her own, failed to notice the remarkable improvement she had made in less than a half hour. Hitsugaya's quick and easy work of the hollows, which he insisted on doing alone and which she thought had to be him showing off somehow, had also soured her feelings for him at the moment, and so she also failed to notice the appraisal in his eyes when he looked at her.
"Let me see your arm," he said to her and she became suddenly aware of a stinging pain in her right arm. She'd made contact with the ground, and was dragged for a few yards in her last attempt. The hollows didn't have much offensive abilities and so this was her one and only injury of the day.
"It's nothing, Captain, no need to bother—"
"Did I ask, Kuchiki?" he retorted and just reached for her hand, pulling up the long, torn sleeve of her shihakusho with surprising carefulness. Rukia frowned but obligingly twisted her elbow to see her own skinned flesh and congealing blood.
Hitsugaya began to heal her, the bright blue kido flickering from his fingertips. He didn't touch her exactly, but he left the imprint of his fingers on her skin somehow and Rukia endeavoured not to shiver.
"Tomorrow we'll continue today's activity," he said suddenly, causing Rukia to jump. "Reflect on what you did wrong today and how you're going to approach this task better tomorrow.'
When he was done he stepped away from her, leaving Rukia feeling wrong-footed for some inconceivable reason.
"You can go rest now, Kuchiki," he told her, and his voice was definitively kind—which she had never heard before, and it caused her to blink owlishly for a moment, evoking a very tiny twitch of the young captain's mouth that she immediately labelled a smile, regardless.
"Yes, sir," she nodded, and then, remembering her manners, gave a quick bow, "Thank you, sir."
He waved her off and she turned to leave but found her footsteps were quite slow, and when she was all but gone, she turned to look over her shoulder, but Captain Hitsugaya was looking at the sky above him, where the first stars were twinkling into place, and didn't seem to notice.
Rukia didn't clear the field until the third day. By then the hollows were on the level of top-tier hollows like Grand Fisher and they were no longer, by comparison, clumsy and defenceless. At the end, Rukia had still made the hollow split into two. But she had managed to dispatch them in four minutes and fifty-three seconds, without incurring any injury herself except for a small shallow gash across her right cheek caused by some flying bone when the hollow mask had been shattered. It stung but she didn't care, turning to face Hitsugaya with a beaming smile, teeth and all.
He looked at her with an odd expression. If Rukia were paying attention (which she wasn't because that sweet victory was too exhilarating—she wondered if she had broken some kind of record) she would have noticed that his gaze softened at her smile, a little exasperated. The more complicated part of it was him hiding his surprise behind expected nonchalance, like he had expected no less, but was still duly impressed anyway.
Truthfully, Hitsugaya knew she would complete this challenge without a problem, and didn't think it would be that difficult for her. He just didn't think she would do it this soon.
"Not bad, Kuchiki," he allowed, as impassive as always.
It didn't dim her smile and she gave a breathless laugh. "Very effusive with your praise, Captain."
"There's still work to be done, Kuchiki," he said. "You haven't passed this task yet."
"I—what?" She straightened up, looking at him in disbelief. The way the happiness leached out of her face was distressing.
"What do you think?" he asked her pointedly.
Rukia caught her breath, closing her eyes for a minute. "You want me to defeat them without making them split at all," she answered with considerable calm. The elation was completely gone. She rather felt a little embarrassed at her excessive (for her) self-congratulation from before, now that she was actually thinking about it. She had been blinded by the specificity of her failure these pass three days that she had forgotten what the original goal was.
Hitsugaya nodded, feeling her disappointment, but before he could say anything she straightened her shoulders, looking at him with renewed determination. "I can do that," she said firmly. "I can definitely do that, Captain Hitsugaya."
He wasn't expecting this level of immediate resolve, and actually expected her to indulge in her disappointment for a while longer. He found himself caught up in the way she'd said that last line and his name, like it was a personal promise to him that she was making.
"Good," he said, clearing his throat, "I'll hold you to that tomorrow."
Rukia blinked. "Tomorrow? I'm not tired, Captain, I can go again—"
He shook his head and pointed upward. "It's late, Kuchiki, and I still have work to do in the morning."
Rukia let her head fall back, looking up at the darkened sky, where the stars were bright, recalling the image in her mind of the young captain looking up at them.
She startled when something warm brushed up against her cheek, her eyes darting to the man in front of her. Hitsugaya was focused on healing the cut on her cheek but he caught her eyes. Rukia's first instinct was to pull away, immediately and violently, but she managed to stay still.
Hitsugaya didn't leave much to read in his eyes, she thought as they both hastily looked away, but they were very pretty.
When he was done she couldn't help but bring her own hand to the side of her face, mumbling her thanks. If he thought anything about it, he didn't let on, merely nodding.
"I'll go," she said, somewhat bashfully, glad for the surrounding darkness to hide whatever ridiculous expression was on her face right then. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."
She took off then, but perhaps too quickly because then he was calling her back. When she stopped and looked over at him, all he said was: "Don't run."
Confused, Rukia just nodded and left with determinedly slower but overly self-conscious steps, missing entirely the way his mouth quirked up at the corner as he watched her leave.
Over the next few weeks Rukia continued to improve. The change in her abilities was so vast and observable that even she couldn't downplay it. Captain Hitsugaya was strict, tough, and unrelenting, but he was good.
He made her fight hollows he obtained from the Twelfth Division with all manner of restrictions and time limits. They were never as easy as they appeared at first and increased in difficulty every time she failed and had to try again. But the way she thought about them and what to expect changed over time, and the time it took her to complete each task was steadily growing shorter and shorter.
For the most part, she wasn't allowed to release Shirayuki, except, of course, when she sparred with Hitsugaya himself. As good as she was doing in each task, there was no way she could last a productive length of time against him with just an unsealed zanpakuto.
Hitsugaya never bothered to release Hyorinmaru, and he couldn't even if he wanted to. But the dragon was very much engaged in their fights, and her training on the whole, he'd told her, and had come around enough to tell Hitsugaya that he won't be able to release him until they got this trial over with. When the next trial would be, Hyorinmaru didn't know either. Like he had said before, when the powers-that-be deemed him ready, he would know. He could only prepare himself in the meantime. The training with her seemed to be helping. At the very least, Hyorinmaru was talking to him again.
Rukia couldn't help but be pleased by this, thinking that she was the only Shinigami in the history of ever to have a connection to someone else's zanpakuto spirit. She didn't dare say this out loud, however, which was good, because then Hitsugaya would have told her about Sojiro Kusaka.
Over this time Rukia found herself growing more comfortable with Captain Hitsugaya. She still could not forget that he was a captain but she awarded his patience and attentiveness by being kinder to him. She found herself smiling more often when she was around him and was relaxed enough to banter with him casually, going so far as to retort to his more cynical quips. She still didn't dare speak to him like she would Ichigo or Renji but he didn't provoke her like those two did either, or irritate her nearly as much—though Hitsugaya did have his moments of being frustrating.
Rukia still tried to maintain some distance though, if only for her own sake. But Captain Hitsugaya seemed determined to make that as hard as possible. Take for instance what he told her one day as they wrapped up their sparring session:
"I think it would be best if you stayed in my office during the day. With all the work that we've been doing, I think my next trial could be any time now." He'd said this with a straight face and a little frown, like he was really thinking about it.
He had never asked her what she did with her free time in the morning, but Rukia thought she stayed plenty close. She wasn't sure within what range of distance she would still be able to feel Hitsugaya's reiatsu but she could feel it just fine from her temporary quarters in the Tenth Division and anywhere else in the Tenth Division she had been to so far, which wasn't many since she was still trying to keep a low profile. Still, she tried to stay as nearby as possible during the day, and now that she didn't train in the mornings anymore, she had taken up sitting on the rooftops of buildings nearby his office. They weren't quite as convenient as the one back at the Thirteenth Division but they worked fine.
Rukia had agreed somewhat reluctantly, having no reason to refuse, which is how she found herself sitting in a designated corner of his office, without any idea what to do with herself.
It was very quiet. The only sound was the scratch of Hitsugaya's brush against paper. Rukia could do nothing but look out the window, incredibly bored.
"Stop fidgeting, Kuchiki," came suddenly with a sigh.
She immediately froze, realizing she had been tapping her finger on the table before her. Slowly, her hand retreated to her lap. "My apologies, Captain Hitsugaya."
He put his pen down, looking weary, and leaned back in his seat. "Do you really have nothing else to do?"
She really didn't. Ukitake had assured her that he and his two third seats could handle any of the work that she usually did, and without being allowed to go on missions or go to the Human World, there was really nothing for Rukia to do. Besides train, which she was already doing a lot of.
So she shook her head.
Hitsugaya drummed his fingers on his desktop, like he hadn't thought this would be a problem when he'd ask her to sit in his office in the mornings. "What have you been normally doing all this time then?" he asked.
She'd been knitting that special thing, truthfully, but had felt far too self-conscious to bring it with her today, so she just shrugged noncommittally.
He looked unimpressed but let it go, simply saying, "Feel free to bring whatever it is, it would be better than sitting around not doing anything."
Rukia nodded absently, and seeing that he seemed to be taking a break, said, "There is a question that I have wanted to ask for a while."
Hitsugaya, relaxed, nodded for her to go ahead.
"It is about Lieutenant Hinamori."
"You want to know why she's been relieved of duty but still holds the lieutenant's title," he guessed and Rukia nodded.
Hinamori had been relieved of duty as far back as when Aizen had fled Soul Society. At first it had been because of the ongoing investigation, but even after that was over and it was clear that she had had no active part in their treachery, she had not been reinstated, mostly due to recovery reasons. Yet still now, months after his defeat, she had yet to be returned the armband or replaced. Given her unfortunate role in the previous affair and the speculation that had clouded her for a while, there were many rumours relating to the Fifth Division, and as Aizen was not there to shoulder the controversy, it was given to Hinamori instead. Hitsugaya had a good idea about what was being said and wasn't surprised that Kuchiki had heard and subsequently asked.
"It is rare for a seated officer to be demoted," he began, "Especially a captain or lieutenant. This is because there usually aren't that many Shinigami at the level required that would be ready to take their place, so the Head Captain was unwilling to remove her at the time when it seemed we needed as many powerful Shinigami as we could find, especially given that we were missing three captains. But she also could no longer hold the position as she used to before. The compromise was that she would keep the position in name only and act as a reserve if we needed her."
"But Lieutenant Hinamori seems to be doing better now," Rukia said, having seen the other girl around several times or with Renji and the others. She looked like she was all but back to normal. "Why haven't they reinstated her?"
"Because we have the Visored," he answered, which caused her to frown. "Usually, the lieutenant that served under a captain replaces that captain if there are no captain-level Shinigami available," he explained. "Lieutenants are expected to always be aiming to achieve bankai for this very reason. If they haven't unlocked their bankai by the time they need to be made a captain then the position is left vacant for them until they do, within reason, of course. Hinamori would have been poised to replace Aizen as captain of the Fifth Division, as would have Hisagi and Kira for their divisions. But with the Visored returning to their previous positions as captains, there was no need to promote any lieutenants prematurely. The issue is that there are more Visored than there are positions for them. Five of the eight have already achieved bankai and the remaining three are at the level of lieutenant, at least. We have no need to replace lieutenants, with the exception of the Thirteenth Division, which has always been a special case, and Hinamori, who currently exists in a state of limbo."
"You mean Head Captain Yamamoto is thinking of replacing Lieutenant Hinamori?" Rukia asked, somewhat shocked.
"The Head Captain does not have that power, Kuchiki. If we need to fill a Lieutenant's position, the captain of that division will usually nominate a member from within the division, more often than not the current third seat. Other captains can nominate members from their own divisions as well if there is an officer that would qualify. All nominees have to be approved by the current captains before they are allowed to sit the lieutenant's exam. Hinamori will have the opportunity to prove herself worthy of the position, just like all of the other candidates."
"That doesn't seem fair to Lieutenant Hinamori," Rukia pointed out.
"Perhaps not," he agreed. "But it isn't the decision of any one person. The current captains all agreed on this."
"Even you?"
"Yes, Kuchiki, even me."
Rukia's expression at this was easily read by the perceptive captain. "Despite everything, I think Momo will keep the position," he said. "That's why I agreed."
Rukia shifted in her seat. "Aren't you worried at all? That she'll lose it?"
"Of course I worry," he said plainly, matter-of-factly, but his open admittance struck her very forcefully. "What I don't have is doubt, Kuchiki. I don't doubt Hinamori's abilities just like I don't doubt my own, or yours for that matter."
Rukia flushed at this before she even fully registered that she was rather touched by it. Hitsugaya watched her with something like amusement. "Yes, Kuchiki, I don't doubt you either," he said, "I wouldn't have agreed to train you if I had. When I say I believe you can become a lieutenant, it's because I believe it. I don't hope or assume."
"That's—I—thank you," she struggled to find the words, or maintain eye-contact. She was suddenly very flustered, yet despite saying those words that made her that way, Hitsugaya was still calm, and rather seemed to be enjoying watching her tither. "But I'm afraid I'll disappoint you anyway," she admitted regretfully. "All the belief in the world won't make me a lieutenant."
"If you are afraid of disappointing me then you have the wrong motivations, Kuchiki," he said, frowning. "You're motivated by your fear. Captain Kuchiki is likely motivated by this as well."
Rukia gave a little hum and said, "I have another question."
His frown deepened but if she did not want to continue talking about it then he would not press her. He gestured for her to ask.
"It is about Lieutenant Matsumoto."
He arched an eyebrow. "Are you just asking questions about the people around me?"
She gave him a sheepish smile. "You would probably be able to answer them. It would be awkward to ask the person."
"And it's okay to ask me?"
Rukia pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them, turning her head to look at him. Hitsugaya silently marvelled at how she had made herself appear so small.
"I can only ask you, I think," she mused. "But you don't have to answer."
He gave her an exasperated look but eyed her expectantly anyway.
"Did Lieutenant Matsumoto…not want to be a captain?" she asked hesitantly.
"She has never expressed any ambition to be one," he said with a shrug. "But only she can say." Honestly, he thought she didn't want the responsibility and work involved, and seemed to be completely content with where she was right now.
"Huh," Rukia said absentmindedly. "I think she would make a good captain."
"Yes, probably, but I pity her lieutenant," he replied wryly.
Rukia giggled and then tried to cover it with a cough. Hitsugaya seemed to soften at the sound. "You can laugh, Kuchiki, I don't have any rules against laughing as long as it's not loud or obnoxious."
Another giggle bubbled up her throat. "That—sounds like a rule."
After having sat bored for half of the morning, and all of the training she had been doing lately, Rukia was very tired, which might explain the giddy and lulled feeling she was in right now. The office was noiseless and calm and she was having a nice, comfortable conversation with Captain Hitsugaya, wherein he seemed to be willingly giving her his time to answer her questions and talk to her, giving her very detailed and thorough explanations. She didn't know what she had done to deserve that but it was…nice.
"You…were never a lieutenant," she said slowly.
"That's not a question."
"Yes? No? Then, why were you never a lieutenant? Doesn't seem fair…" She shot him a weakly accusatory glare with no real heat.
"I never had the privilege of wearing the lieutenant's armband, no," he confirmed, ignoring her petty jealousy. "When the previous Tenth Division captain disappeared there was no Shinigami qualified to take his place. At the time, I was already doing most of the division paperwork and was practically running the division as a captain would. Rather than immediately replace him, it was agreed that Matsumoto and I would continue to run things, which was much like we do now, while I worked on achieving my bankai to eventually become the official captain."
"You were just a third seat?"
"Yes."
Rukia was looking at him with open admiration and Hitsugaya didn't smile, exactly—at least his mouth didn't. But she could see it in his eyes.
"You must have been the first captain to be promoted from a seated position," she said.
Surprisingly, he shook his head. "Second," he corrected her. "Urahara was promoted from the third seat of the Second Division to captain of the Twelfth almost a hundred years before me."
"Oh." She hadn't known that. "That was before my time. I only remember when you were made captain."
And then she fell into thoughtful silence.
"No more questions?" he prompted her.
She thought about it. "No, I think that's it for now."
He raised an eyebrow at the for now, but was already reaching for his brush. Kuchiki seemed on the verge of falling asleep and he thought it would be best to leave her to it. Which is, of course, when his door was forced open to reveal a smiling Matsumoto.
"Captain," she began in a sing-song voice, "I have a very important message for—oh, Kuchiki-san, you're here."
Rukia, who had been startled into an upright position, blinked at her. "Yes?"
Matsumoto grinned at her, completely forgetting her captain. "I have a message for you from Captain Hirako," she announced, and plopped herself down by the other girl.
Rukia's brow furrowed. "For me? Why for me?"
"Captain Hirako is the Shinigami temporarily taking over your duties in the Human World while you play with my captain," Matsumoto explained.
Hitsugaya, who had gone back to his paperwork, shot her a glare that she pretended not to see. Rukia did see and she flushed a bit at the implication.
"Seems a bit overkill to send a captain for a routine patrol," Hitsugaya said coolly.
Matsumoto gave him a blank look, surprised that he had even spoken. "Oh, captain, are you interested in this, too?"
He ignored her.
"Anyway, it's only temporary, and he volunteered for it, so there," she waved her hand dismissively. "And Kuchiki-san's—can I call you Rukia? Yes? Call me Rangiku. Oh, you're so cute. Anyway, Rukia-chan's duties in the Human World aren't like normal patrols, right Rukia-chan?" and she gave Rukia a mischievous smile.
Rukia didn't notice, too caught up in her thoughts. "But why would Captain Hirako volunteer? And what message could he have for me?"
"Look at those eyes, Captain. Don't you think Rukia-chan has pretty eyes?" Matsumoto was beaming at her. Rukia flushed in self-consciousness, not daring to look over at the captain.
She heard him grunt in a non-response and then say: "Just deliver your message so I can get back to work."
"So huffy," Matsumoto teased. "Don't worry, Captain, you have the prettiest eyes of all."
"Matsumoto," he warned.
"Right, right," she turned back to Rukia, "He said if you had any messages to send to your friends, to give them to him and he would pass it along. Isn't that nice of him? I told him you can't really leave here, but you can give it to me and I'll give it to him. He's leaving later this evening."
"Oh," Rukia blinked. "That's, yes—I'll have to thank him—" she turned to Hitsugaya, "Is it alright if I burrow a…"
Silently, he passed her a blank sheet of paper, a brush and some ink. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't notice the little frown between his eyes. Matsumoto did and it caused her smile to broaden. She leaned in closer to the little Kuchiki, keeping an eye on her captain.
"You should say something to everyone, you know, explain why you won't be seeing them for a while. Ichigo would worry about you. And what about that glasses fella? And that big guy with the accent? Oh, and those two cuties from Ichigo's class. You don't want them worrying about you, right? You know what happens when Ichigo gets worried about you."
Rukia considered her with a small smile. "Ichigo can't see me anymore," she said softly.
Matsumoto's smile turned sympathetic. "Ah, I'm sorry Rukia-chan, I forgot." Completely genuine, she asked, "You must miss him, huh?"
To which Rukia gave a non-committal shrug.
In the end, she wrote to only Orihimi, who was the only person she had had contact with recently, though very briefly each time, and then gave it to Matsumoto. Matsumoto, eager to make herself scarce again in the hopes that she could remain free for the rest of the day, beleaguered her captain with her very legitimate reason for leaving and promptly left.
Rukia looked over at Hitsugaya, who was frowning in the direction his lieutenant had just disappeared. She felt somewhat embarrassed by the whole thing but couldn't figure out why.
Surprisingly, it was Hitsugaya who broke the awkward silence.
"Captain Ukitake monitors the substitute, correct?" he asked with a frown.
Rukia blinked at him. "Yes?"
"Then why are you still assigned to Kurosaki and his friends?"
"I'm not?" she said, confused. "Karakura Town is my patrol assignment."
"You still contact them," he pointed out.
"They're my friends," she said, baffled at his almost accusatory tone. "And I only see Inoue-san occasionally—I try not to interfere in Ichigo's or Ishida-kun's or Sado-kun's lives. I only meet with Inoue-san because she insisted."
Hitsugaya's frown didn't let up and actually, a shadow seemed to have passed over his eyes. Despite knowing that the captain had a highly established reputation for being irritable and severe, he had been nothing but a firm and patient teacher to Rukia all this time, and no matter how much she messed up during their training or felt like she had wasted his time, he had never looked so displeased at her as he did then.
"But you don't need to do this, correct?"
"I—I guess not," she answered hesitantly. "But Captain Ukitake also thinks it's good to remain on good terms with the allies we have in the Human World."
"And what does Hirako have to do with this?" Captain Hitsugaya didn't seem reassured by her answers, though Rukia was in the dark about what exactly she was supposed to be assuring him about, and seemed to be interrogating her more than anything.
"That," Rukia said with a little frown of her own, "I don't know. But if he volunteered it could be because he has business with Urahara?" she suggested. "I doubt it has anything to do with me."
Hitsugaya seemed to relax at this, giving her a little nod. "It's not good to be distracted," he said, somewhat absently and Rukia wasn't sure he'd said it for her.
He went back to his paperwork then without another word, leaving Rukia wondering which part of what she'd said had dissolved the comfortable atmosphere from before.