The image of Captain Ichimaru walking across the Fourth Division with an enormous bouquet of lilies and roses in every shade of pink was enough to make anyone take notice, and it wasn't even over the fact that the captain had somehow managed to get ahold of so many beautiful, fresh flowers in February. The healers exchanged skeptical glances and even Yamada Hanataro sighed and said, "It isn't going to work."
"Good morning, Ran-chan," Gin said merrily as he entered Rangiku's room.
Rangiku opened one eye, and then she shot up, her face a picture of terror. "Oh my God! Did you kill one of the kids?" she demanded.
Gin cocked his head to one side and gave her a puzzled look. "I haven't killed anyone, Ran. What an unpleasant way to greet your husband. Shouldn't you at least say 'good morning' before accusing me of murder?"
Rangiku just stared at him with her mouth hanging open. Eventually he sighed and went to the side table where a vase held a much less impressive bunch of early tulips. He replaced them with his gift and smiled at the result. Rangiku had to love it, so many pretty pink flowers, and they even smelled nice. He'd gone and relieved a florist in the World of the Living of the bouquet in the middle of the night. It'd been a bit of the rush to get back to Seireitei before the news broke, but he seemed to have managed it. She hadn't strangled him the moment she'd seen him.
"What did you do?" Rangiku demanded when she realized he was not going to stop messing with the flowers.
He turned around and grinned at her. "The thing is, Ran, that it really isn't my fault. I was only doing what any good, responsible father would do. I can't help what Shiro suddenly decides to do, and it was probably at Shiba's encouragement anyway. He's been staying with Shiba; I did tell you that, didn't I? He and Kin-chan both, and they've been having the best time with Miyako; you know how they love her, and-"
"What did you do?" Rangiku repeated, this time her voice held a clear threat.
"I don't see what else I could have done considering-"
"Gin," she said his name through clenched teeth. Only the fact that she would be endangering her unborn child kept her from leaping bodily out of bed and strangling him. "Tell me what you did."
"I helped Shiro master bankai," he said quickly, taking a step back.
For a moment Rangiku said nothing. Then very slowly she spoke. "That's why he needed a sealed practice ground," she said slowly.
"Well, yes, it is better to keep the area shielded when you're experimenting with that sort of thing. I'm afraid he could do a lot of damage if he lost control, but he's not going to. He's thoroughly mastered it, Ran. He's really very impressive. One of the strongest bankai I've seen, truth be told. Even his shikai is really unusually strong. You'll never have to worry about him in a fight, I promise. He is absolutely the equal of any other captain. Everyone is agreed that-"
"What did you say?" Rangiku interrupted. "Gin, what did you just say? You don't-you don't-you-"
Suddenly Gin was beside her with his arms around her. "He's going to be alright, Ran. I promise," he told her as he held her against his chest.
"But he's just a little boy!" Rangiku moaned. "Why would they let him-why-" Then she jerked back and yelled, "It's your fault! You did this! You taught my baby to kill!"
She slammed her fists against his chest again and again. "It's your fault! It's your fault! It's your fault!"
It took her awhile to realize he was answering her. All he said was, "I'm sorry," over and over. As she yelled and called him names and hit him all he said was, "I'm sorry." It was hard to keep up the same level of rage after that. Eventually she sank back, exhausted and miserable and whispered, "Why did you do this?"
"I-" Gin took a deep breath. Why had he pushed Shiro so far? Once he could hide his reiatsu he was safe. He was a child; he didn't need to know anything more. Somehow, though, it had felt necessary. He'd always felt like he had to keep pushing Shiro, like if he stopped even for a moment, something horrible was going to happen to the boy, like the only way he could ever be safe was if he was stronger than anyone-and that was both stupid and impossible. Shiro was amazing, but he couldn't be trained out of being young, and as a shinigami, youth was one of the biggest disadvantages there was. "I-I don't know, Ran. I'm sorry."
For a few minutes Rangiku was silent. First she looked at Gin, and he did look sorry, so very sorry, and that helped, and then she looked at the insane bouquet he had brought her. She thought about the ridiculous effort he must have gone to to get it for her. Their son had made captain. It should have been good news, and she had reacted like it was the very worst.
"Am I supposed to be proud?" she asked softly.
"I don't know," Gin answered. "I think you're allowed to be annoyed, since your son is now your captain."
"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The Tenth had been the only open division. Toshiro was her captain. Somehow, instead of annoying her, that was a little bit of a relief. At least she'd be able to keep an eye on him. "You don't think he'll demote me, do you?"
"I think he has a better survival instinct than that," Gin answered, smiling slightly.
She smiled faintly. Then she said, "Sorry I hit you."
"I deserved it."
"Yes, you did," she agreed. Then she added, "But I did sort of know you were training him, not bankai or anything so insane, but I did know you were doing something. I could have made you stop if I'd really wanted to. I guess I thought it was a good idea too."
Gin sat down on the bed beside her. "He's incredible," he told her. "He's strong. His zanpakuto, Hyorinmaru, is an ice dragon, the strongest ice-type zanpakuto in centuries. He is going to be alright. I promise."
Rangiku nodded. "Can you tell him I want to see him?"
"I'll make sure he does, just as soon as he's done inspecting his new division."
"I finally get a new captain, and I'm not even there to meet him," Rangiku said, trying to smile. "It's so like me."
"At least you're not out with a hangover."
"Not this time anyway." Then she giggled as something occurred to her. "You thought I drove poor Captain Isshin crazy; I'm going to drive Shiro-chan completely out of his mind."
"Poor Shiro," Gin agreed.
"It's his own fault. He's the one who wants to be captain."
When Rangiku woke up in the late afternoon she was surprised to find Toshiro sitting in the seat beside her bed. He looked just like he always had, even the solemn expression was familiar, but the black shihakusho and the white captain's haori were so wrong. She wanted to tell herself it wasn't real, and he was just playing dress up, but it was real, and her little boy would probably never play dress up again in his life. Small as he was, and both the haori and shihakusho showed signs of recent hemming so as not to fall off, he was not a child anymore.
"Don't cry, Mom, please," he said softly.
She raised a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I can't help it. You're supposed to be my baby, but all the sudden you're my captain."
"People grow up all the time. It's not something to cry about."
She forced a smile at that. "Shows what you know."
He frowned and looked away. "Do you want to be my lieutenant?" he asked awkwardly, not quite meeting her eyes.
"What else am I going to do? You planning to send me to some other division?"
"No, I just wasn't sure-I thought maybe-you're going to be out for a year with the new baby anyway. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to come back."
Rangiku let out a short laugh. "That didn't take you long."
"What didn't take me long?"
"You've been in the Gotei for a whole day and you're already thinking like a man. I am not going to quit just because I'm a mother. I'm not breakable or delicate or in need of protection. I am just as strong as any other lieutenant and I expect to be treated like any other lieutenant, you got that, Shiro-chan?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Shiro-chan?" he repeated.
"You're still my son," Rangiku said stubbornly.
"And you're still my mom, but my lieutenant can't call me Shiro-chan. No one will ever take me seriously if you do."
She wanted to tell him no one would ever take him seriously because he was barely four feet tall and weighed less than seventy pounds, but she managed to stop herself. "I'll make you a deal," she said finally. "I'll call you 'captain' whenever we're working and you can call me 'lieutenant' and in return, instead of living in the captain's quarters you'll live at home with your family, and I'll be Mom and you'll be Shiro-chan, and we can stay a family a little bit longer."
Toshiro frowned. "Captains don't live at home with their parents," he protested.
"Most of the captains don't have parents, and if they were still living, Captain Kuchiki would be living with his, but I'm not saying you need to live with us forever, just while you're still growing up-in the whole rest of Seireitei you're going to be one of the adults now, but you could come home and for a few hours every day you could be a kid and play with your brother and annoy your dad, and let your mom take care of you like moms are supposed to. Please, Captain, please just give me a few more years to be a proper mom."
"You'll always call me 'captain' in front of the division?"
She nodded.
"And you'll do what I tell you? You'll take orders and say 'yes, sir' and everything?"
"Yes, sir," she agreed.
"Seriously, not like a joke, but like you mean it?"
"Captain, as your lieutenant it is my duty to support you in every way I can. I would never joke about you or do anything to degrade you in the eyes of your men. I want nothing more than to see you succeed as the new captain of the Tenth Division-honestly, Shiro-chan, I will be the best possible lieutenant I can for you. Even if I really wish you hadn't decided to do this I will always be one hundred percent on your side."
"I guess I already knew that," Toshiro answered. "Look, I gotta go. I've got a ton of work to do at the division, but Dad said you really needed to see me, and he wouldn't leave me alone-did you know he's even more annoying as a fellow captain than as a dad? I think Kira's right about him practicing. No one could be that irritating without trying."
Rangiku smiled. "I'm afraid your daddy's not the only annoying person you're going to have to deal with now. Just wait till it's time for budget reviews, everyone starts avoiding you, and nearly everyone lies nonstop about why they went over budget, or lost the paperwork or just don't have the time to talk to you about it, and the whole time the First Division bureaucrats are breathing down your neck, wanting to know what's taking so long, but they insist that budget reviews and performance reviews need to be turned in the same month so there's no possible way you can get either of them done on time."
"When's that?" Toshiro asked.
"December-I turned in the last of the officers' reviews two weeks ago-and you don't start the Academy graduate recruiting till March so you've got a whole two weeks to learn the division before you get to start figuring out who you'd like to add to it."
"When are you coming back?"
"Day after tomorrow. I was supposed to go home today but after-Unohana just wants to keep an eye on me a little while longer-really, I'm fine," she added quickly when she saw how worried he was starting to look. "I'm going to go home and lay around the house all day tomorrow, and I'll be back at work bright and early on Monday."
"That's before noon, right?"
Rangiku sighed. "You're going to want me to come in on time every day, aren't you? Such a slave driver."
Toshiro stood up. "Only if you're really feeling ok. You gotta take care of yourself, ok?"
"Yes, Captain," she agreed.
Toshiro smiled. It hadn't sounded like a jerk. She'd actually sounded like she was speaking to a real captain-which he was, obviously, but it was nice to hear her sound like she was taking him seriously. "I'll see you at work, Lieutenant," he answered.