Author's Notes: I know a lot of people aren't really interested in author notes, so feel free to skip these if you'd like. But I just felt like babbling about a few things:

1. I'm very sorry for the long delay between chapters. Life has been ridiculously busy, alas. And as usual with everything I write, I cannot apparently resist the urge to make every story the length of a set of encyclopedias, and so here I am still, chugging along on a story that was supposed to have been three short chapters. I realize these sorts of delays mean all of the original characters and small events of a story are probably forgotten, and I'm sorry about that. Hopefully there's enough of a sense of continuity that re-reading past chapters isn't necessary.

2. Despite getting another wonderful glimpse into Hyourinmaru's power after the petals fade (in chapter 234 of the manga), I confess I still obsess over thoughts of bankai. Byakuya's bankai was shown to have several stages to it, and I wonder if that's true of all bankai forms once they are fully developed. I continue to speculate about Hyourinmaru's nature, and so am leaving the previous chapter unchanged.

3. If anyone is wondering why this story seems to be dwelling so much on the passage of time, or why events seem to take so long to unfold, it's because I'm trying to explain the forty year time gap between Hinamori's time as a student in the academy (and hence Hitsugaya's time as a child in Rukongai) and the point of Ichigo's invasion. Forty years is a long time to explain away…

4. Lastly, to anyone who might be seeing references in this chapter that don't seem to match up with what they've read in previous chapters, I suggest reading my other story "Facets," for those who haven't done so. That might clear things up.

FROZEN SKY

Part Five: In the Eye of the Storm

His initial plan for returning to the Seireitei at the end of his training month had been to come in at night, through Jidanbou's gate, so that no one else would be around to comment on his absence or the physical state he might be in. Jidanbou wouldn't ask so many questions, and wouldn't, he hoped, make too much of a fuss.

He hadn't expected, however, to be in quite as bad a state as he found himself when the time actually came. He did his best to scrub off all of the blood and sweat in the river before beginning the journey back, but not even his best efforts could hide the torn clothing or the unhealed cuts and bruises.

Given that, Jidanbou reacted just as could be expected. Precisely the reaction Hitsugaya had been hoping to avoid.

"Hitsugaya-kun, what sort of hour is this to be coming home, eh?" Jidanbou called on seeing him, in a voice that would probably wake up all of Jyunrinan if he wasn't silenced swiftly.

"Jidanbou, would you please keep your voice down, damn it!"

"I can always tell when Hitsugaya-kun has not been getting enough sleep, because he is crankier than usual. Isn't that right? You haven't been getting enough sleep, have…" He stopped, and bent down with astonishing speed to peer intently at his smaller friend. "What is this? You have been fighting! There has been no word of Hollows or intruders!"

"No Hollows," Hitsugaya muttered, trying to stand fast under Jidanbou's gaze, which was never an easy feat at such close proximity, given their respective sizes. "But it is late, and I'd like to get to bed."

"What?" Jidanbou exclaimed. "Bed? No! You are grievously injured! You must go to be healed!"

"I am not grievously injured. Do I look grievously injured?"

"Absolutely!"

"No, I don't. I do not look grievously injured. I just look tired, because that's what I am. Jidanbou," he added hastily, seeing the larger Shinigami sucking in a breath for an adamant – and undoubtedly loud – retort, "I'm asking you. Please, just let me through. I've been training, that's all."

He knew he could have slipped past Jidanbou even now, exhausted as he was. But then the giant would make an even bigger fuss, and he would have to deal with guilt in addition to everything else.

But a second later, when new voices spoke, he wished he'd made the decision to slip past from the very beginning.

The fact that he hadn't sensed their approaching reiatsu was just further proof of how drained bankai training had left him, and he grimaced, wishing even more fervently for the privacy of his room and several days of uninterrupted sleep. He was going to have to ask Komamura for those extra days; there was no way of getting around it.

But first he had to get back to the division compound in the first place.

"Uninvited guests, Jidanbou?"

He would not have recognized the voice alone, but there was no mistaking the face. Hisagi Shuuhei had certainly gone out of his way to make himself recognizable.

Hitsugaya sighed, shooting Jidanbou an accusatory look, but spoke up quickly in the hope of heading things off before they got too complicated. "Hisagi-fukutaichou. I'm returning from training leave. Jidanbou was just about to let me through. Weren't you, Jidanbou?" he added through slightly clenched teeth.

Unfortunately, Hisagi wasn't alone.

"What? Training leave?"

Hitsugaya recognized 10th Division's third seat easily even though her name at the moment escaped him, because there was no way the woman's issues with her clothing could be anything but deliberate, or anything but memorable. He had never spoken to her, and wasn't at all thrilled with the prospect of striking up a dialogue now of all times. If ever.

"And who's this, then?" she asked cheerfully, her cheeks bright red. "I've seen that hair before, I'm sure of it!"

"Hitsugaya, isn't it?" Hisagi said, apparently a bit more sober than his companion.

"Yes," Hitsugaya replied, fighting the urge to launch into a few shunpo and leave them all behind. If announcing that he had just come from achieving bankai would have instantly granted him a Captain's authority to sweep by them without the need for any excuse or explanation, he would have done so in a heartbeat.

As it was, he had no intention of making that announcement too soon.

For several long moments Hisagi merely stared at him, and Hitsugaya met and held his gaze, trying not to let his impatience show too clearly, though with little hope of success. He had no idea what Hisagi was looking for, or what he might be sensing from him. He was simply too tired to worry about keeping his reiatsu totally in check, and had no way of knowing how achieving bankai might have altered what others sensed in it.

"Well, he's certainly looking a bit under the weather, whoever he is!" With an astonishing speed and precision for someone so apparently drunk, the woman was suddenly at Hitsugaya's side and leaning down to peer into his face.

"Oi!" he snapped instantly, more frustrated by the way weariness slowed his reactions than even by her nearness. "Watch where you're waving that sake!"

"Oops! Sorry! Sure you don't want some? It might perk you up!"

"Maybe he should go pay a visit to 4th Division instead," Hisagi said calmly.

"Yes!" Jidanbou boomed. "That is my opinion too, Hisagi-fukutaichou!"

"Fine," Hitsugaya muttered. "Fine. I'll go to 4th Division. I'll go right this minute if you'll just let me pass."

"Sure you don't want a drink for the road?" the woman asked cheerfully.

"I'm sure. Excuse me."

"Well, if you see Kotsubaki or Kotetsu on the way, do let us know, will you? We seem to have lost them."

"Hitsugaya-kun, I will go with you – "

"No! I'll come talk to you later, Jidanbou," he said hastily, and this time he did use shunpo to get him past the gate keeper's massive body and well on his way before another word could be spoken to hinder him. No one called for him to stop, but he could hear their voices fading behind him as he went.

"Ah, did he just leave without even giving you a nod, Hisagi? Well, don't look so glum! I'm the one who should really be offended – he didn't even look at my breasts!"

Despite his weariness, he made it to the 4th Division compound in record time.

In the end, he did not have to ask for any additional time off from his duties in order to rest; one full night's sleep proved all he needed. Or at least, all he needed in order to be up and working again, even if he was still feeling more than a bit glassy-eyed.

He strongly suspected his fast recovery from weariness was a direct result of having raised his spirit power to a new level, but could not verify it beyond intuition. His visit to 4th Division had been brief and he had beat a hasty retreat – after enduring a cursory inspection by their sixth seat officer – in order to avoid any possible encounters with Unohana. He thought it a distinct possibility that the insightful 4th Division Captain would be able to divine what he had accomplished merely by coming in close contact with his reiatsu, and he didn't yet have his arguments or explanations prepared. He knew, however, that he would have to put them together quickly, because to Komamura, at least, some explanation was owed.

Pensive and weary, he was glad to walk into his office and find it empty, as was customary this early in the morning. Watari liked to do his paperwork in the afternoons, and though Jiroubou kept no steady schedule, Hitsugaya suspected that the larger man studiously avoided the office whenever he himself was in it. It was the only explanation for the fact that the fifth seat's paperwork somehow got done, even though Hitsugaya never saw him doing it.

He liked having the office to himself, though he wouldn't have minded the quiet company of someone like Watari or even Imada, men who could be trusted to do their work in silence and to do it well.

He wondered what sort of office he might have as a Captain.

Were all of the division compounds arranged like 7th Division's? He had spent a great deal of time in Komamura's office for his weekly meetings with the Vice Captain, and it was a large place. Plenty of room for shelves. Windows that let in good sunlight.

"I see you're back."

Mortified to discover that the had been lost in speculation – no, in downright daydream – with his brush held motionless and dripping ink onto his paperwork, Hitsugaya snapped his head around to the door and tried not to glare at Imada.

"Yes," he said, setting aside his brush and crumpling the ruined paper.

"You look exhausted. I guess you really were training, then."

"Is that what you heard?"

"From Komamura-taichou. Officially, you were gone for personal reasons, but I can only imagine what that has turned into in rumor."

Hitsugaya frowned, unsure which was worse – to have everyone rightly suspecting he was pursuing something a bit more ambitious than a fourth seat's advancement in his training, or enduring sordid speculations about his personal life.

"Anyway, it's your business," Imada said calmly, then added with surprising seriousness, "I have my own theories, but since you do seem to want to keep it your business, I'll let them be for now. Komamura-taichou wants to see you."

"Now?"

"Yes. Also, I have squad inspections scheduled for this afternoon, and I'd like you to be there."

"I'll be there."

They parted with silent nods, and as he made his way down empty corridors to Komamura's office, Hitsugaya found himself wondering uncomfortably how his working relationship with Imada might be affected, should the Vice Captain discover what this extra training of his was for. Or what it had already accomplished.

He did not yet know exactly how he wanted to explain things to Komamura, but there was no point delaying. Standing outside the Captain's office, he drew a deep breath, wishing that he had Hyourinmaru at his back, then put one hand to the screens.

"Excuse me. Hitsugaya Toushiro reporting as asked."

"Come in."

He rolled back the door and stepped inside, to find Komamura standing alone at one of the windows, his massive hands clasped behind his back.

Hitsugaya bowed, even though bowing never came to him as naturally as it probably should, and even though Komamura couldn't see the motion behind him. But he respected Komamura enough to make the gesture, especially since it was quite possible he was about to make things… difficult… for the 7th Division's Captain.

For several long moments after the sound of the screen's closing, they both stood motionless in silence. Then Komamura turned, morning sunlight glinting on the ridges of his helmet.

"So. You have succeeded in your training."

He had no intention of lying, especially not here, and so he simply nodded, very glad now indeed that he had managed to avoid Unohana, if even Komamura could pick up on the truth so easily. Avoiding other Captains altogether might be a good idea for a while. Fortunately, for a fourth seat, that wouldn't be too hard to manage.

Assuming things could stay as they were.

"You asked for a month, and said that only one month would be needed. You were right. I commend you."

It took an effort of will not to shrug, or to otherwise dismiss the compliment, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel. The only acknowledgement he wanted was Hyourinmaru's, and he'd already received that, in the greatest manner possible.

A sudden image of Hinamori, smiling proudly, flashed through his mind, but he quelled it ruthlessly.

Or at least he tried to.

"I will be reporting your success to Genryuusai-dono," Komamura said, and there was no room for argument in the steadiness of his deep voice. "I suspect he will be even less surprised than I. What remains to be decided is what recommendations I should include in the report, regarding your future. What have you to say on the matter, Hitsugaya?"

Hitsugaya curled his hands into loose fists and stared into the eye slit of Komamura's helmet, glad for the distance between them that made the woeful difference in their heights less obvious.

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"Of course. There is no time limit placed upon those who wish to test for a Captain's rank, or any set date to concern you."

"No."

Komamura made a low noise of mild surprise, almost a growl.

"I mean…" Hitsugaya amended uncomfortably, "can I keep it… private… for a while?"

"Private? I see." Komamura turned back to the window, gauntleted hands still clasped behind his back, then said, "There are other options open to you, of course. Certainly a Vice Captain's seat would be yours for the taking. There is more than one division at the moment that could use a skilled second seat."

"Komamura-taichou," Hitsugaya said, tightening his fists, determined to keep his voice level. Calm. He called to mind the memory of ice over his shoulders, around his body, in his veins. The dragon could be patient, when it had to be. "I don't want a Vice Captain's seat. I will take the Captain's exam, and I'll pass it. But when that day comes, I don't want there to be any question. I want… I need it to be perfect. If I make even one mistake, there will always be someone who will doubt my right. They'll say tensai and see…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it; his pride choked the words halfway out of his mouth. He wanted to think that at least among Captains there wouldn't be anyone foolish enough to overlook power in order to judge by appearances, that there wouldn't be anyone who would insist on calling him a child in spite of ability. He wanted to think it, but he couldn't completely dispel the doubt.

"I understand," Komamura said, and there was something in his voice that made Hitsugaya believe the words were more than mere platitude. "You wish to continue your training, then?"

"Yes. At the very least, I need to train longer with bankai before facing any sort of test."

"Merely having achieved bankai would be enough, in most eyes."

"Not in mine."

"No. And that is why I believe you will make a true Captain, when you choose to make that time your own. That is what I will report to Genryuusai-dono."

Hitsugaya bowed again, glad this time that it gave him an excuse to hide his expression of relief.

"You have always performed your duties well," Komamura went on, "but they have never suited you. You cannot give a fourth seat's duties the true care they deserve, any more than I think you could give it to third seat's. Perhaps not even a Vice Captain's. No matter how well you attend to the details, taking pride in them is another matter. Your thoughts have always been… elsewhere."

He had to clench his teeth to keep from retorting in defensive irritation, and even as he did so he realized he was only proving Komamura right. He should have felt ashamed to have it so bluntly pointed out that he did not take pride in his work. But he didn't feel ashamed, any more than graduating from the academy in less than a year or efficiently filing hellmoth care reports had made him feel proud. They were always just something he had to do. Something he could do.

He had already heard the word "arrogant" muttered behind his back several times, along with other words less kind, whether coupled with tensai or not. And maybe they were all true.

And a month ago, even two days ago, he might have let the memory of those mutterings, or Komamura's painfully astute observations, deter him from his chosen path.

But Hyourinmaru had given him wings. What could he do now, except fly with them? To turn back now, for any reason, would be a betrayal of a promise made to his zanpakutou. That, he could not do.

So he clenched his fists, and said nothing.

"I say this," Komamura continued, "but it is not the criticism it might be, if said of other Shinigami. Those who instinctively know their destiny…"

The Captain's voice trailed off unexpectedly, and when he spoke again there was a strange undercurrent, almost a wistfulness, to his tone. Through the slit in his helmet, the morning sunlight flashed briefly in golden eyes.

"… they are fortunate. Even powerful men often need a guide. Someone to believe in them, before they can believe in themselves. Perhaps you are not that sort, Hitsugaya Toushiro. But perhaps you have discoveries yet to make. However it may be, I am willing to grant you your request for now. Train as you wish, but keep in mind that you cannot hide the truth forever. Sooner or later your destiny will catch you, whether you are ready for it or not."

From the moment he'd first felt Hyourinmaru's grip against his palms, the desire to train, to be worthy of his sword, had been a driving force in him. There had been satisfaction in every advancement in skill, and pride in seeing every swift ripple of the dragon's watery scales. But he had never enjoyed his training as much as he did now, learning to fly on icy wings, and to understand the dragon within and without in entirely new ways.

One day a week for personal training was no longer nearly enough, but he did not want to draw any further attention to himself by requesting another leave from his duties, so he contented himself with the time he could get. And even though training in bankai form drained him, so that he could only use it for short portions of the time he had, he could not feel disappointed when the rewards were otherwise so great.

The winter months went by, and he felt the cold even less than usual. Even when he wasn't training, the sound of Hyourinmaru's voice alone could make the world feel wrapped in ice, tinkling, sharp with life, like cold air in the lungs.

I am not a friend, Hyourinmaru had said. And maybe not. But when all was said and done, now that he truly understood what it meant to know his zanpakutou, Hitsugaya was content with the exchange.

You grow more comfortable with our union day by day.

"Yeah," he said idly, laying on his back near the banks of the river where he had finally defeated the dragon. He often returned here for his training. It was an isolated spot, with plenty of water to use in his ice techniques. It was also nice, when the time for a rest came, to let the murmur of the river lull him into that pleasant state of half-consciousness, when muscles warmed by long training had not yet begun to stiffen and new bruises not yet begun to ache. He laced his fingers behind his head, and relaxed even more deeply into the grass. The sky overhead was a crisp blue, the last of the clouds he had summoned in his training wisping away.

Soon you may be ready to maintain bankai until the petal shards have fully faded.

"May?" he echoed indignantly, turning his head to scowl at the dragon's half-manifested phantom form. It lay in the river's shallow bank, coiled around several boulders with its head resting on a loop of its own scales, staring at him. Hyourinmaru only laughed at his indignation, and icy vapor streamed from the dragon's nostrils.

Hitsugaya wasn't entirely mollified by proof of his zanpakutou's good humor, but he let it slide for now. If he had learned anything in his battle with the dragon, and in the training which had followed his victory, it was that Hyourinmaru was a difficult creature to please, and doled out lessons in his own time, regardless of how often he liked to insist that it was Hitsugaya who should decide the course of their destiny.

The lessons had at least been coming hard and fast, now. In all his time working with Hyourinmaru in mastering shikai, the zanpakutou had never taught him any named attacks. But many things had changed with achieving bankai, and now his sword was revealing to him a whole new array of abilities.

The first time he had used the Dragon Hailstone Form, choosing a nearby boulder as a target, he had nearly dammed the river by collapsing an entire portion of the riverbank. The Dragon Breath Storm Ring had spread a layer of blue ice even over a snow-covered field in the dead of winter, and the effect of the White Claw Rose attack on a nearby cluster of trees had convinced him at last that he didn't need to worry too much, in bankai form, about what might be lacking in his hakuda.

But for all that, he knew he hadn't yet entered his bankai's second stage. Hyourinmaru had hinted at what he might expect, when the petals fully faded. A zanpakutou that could control the weather even in shikai form could do so much more, with the water that filled the world, in bankai.

And after that? What final stage remained? What secrets was the dragon still hiding, still holding in wait until the day its wielder might prove fully worthy? Fully ready?

Hitsugaya was sure there were still secrets to be uncovered, and he had only needed to have his question evaded once – when he asked about the warning Hyourinmaru had given him on the day he first achieved bankai – in order to decide that he wouldn't ask again. As with everything else, he would earn it. That was fine with him.

You are learning how to fly. Hyourinmaru shifted his phantom form lazily, like a serpent readjusting its coiled drape among sun-warmed rocks. But the dragon's red eyes remained fixed on him. Now we truly fly together. But will this be enough, to achieve what you desire?

He did not bother to pretend that he didn't understand the question. The matter rarely left his thoughts, and it was good every once in a while to set pride aside and get it all off his chest by talking about it. Friend or not, Hyourinmaru could give him that at least.

"I don't know. Maybe. From everything I've read and heard, just having bankai could be enough. But I don't want to get there and find that my kidou isn't at a Captain's standard, or anything else like it."

And you think all Captains have thus mastered all of a Shinigami's skills?

"Well… no. There's always someone like Zaraki, I suppose. But I'm not planning to kill anyone to take a Captain's seat, so let's just accept that we'll be working with another set of standards."

Your set.

"Yes. My damn set of standards."

Very well.

"You're being cheeky today. What's your problem?"

I? A problem?

"No, of course not," he said dryly. "Never mind."

I do not.

And then again, sometimes he thought it would be nice to have another person to talk to about these things. Another Shinigami, who could understand his reservations and concerns in a way that the dragon, no matter how much it might mirror his own deeper self, could not.

He hadn't yet told Hinamori about his bankai, about his goals. Even though he had seen her several times in the months since his success, they had not managed to arrange time alone together for more than brief conversations, and he had not been able to find the words in those circumstances to tell her what he had accomplished. It would feel too much like bragging, and yet… she was Momo. She was the only person he truly wanted to tell.

Or at least, she had been Momo. It would have been easy to tell bed-wetter Momo. Telling Vice Captain Hinamori, on the other hand, was a totally different matter.

He sighed, trying to dispel the thought, and sat up, scrubbing blades of broken grass out of his hair with a careless hand.

"It's time to be heading back."

The dragon lifted its head and opened its mouth in anticipation, almost like an eager dog. A dog with very long teeth.

Shall we fly?

"No. I need to work on lengthening my shunpo."

Very well.But the disappointment was obvious in the familiar growling voice, as the half-formed manifestation faded entirely from view. I will accede to your wishes.

"Damn right you will. I'm glad that you remember."

Even dragons must look in mirrors sometimes.

"I'm allowed to be cheeky. You're not the one who's going to have to deal with these bruises tomorrow."

But despite the onset of bruising, despite the sting of scrapes and weariness, he forced shunpo after shunpo in his journey back to the Seireitei in good spirits. Every day he felt himself growing stronger. Every time Hyourinmaru spoke to him, the dragon's voice seemed clearer, though he had never realized the distance between them before. Every time he lay down on his futon at night to go over in his mind all the training of his day, he had never felt more content with his own progress, more at ease in his own power.

Every bruise was worth it.

It was commonly accepted that, even for the gifted, it took ten years of devoted training to achieve bankai. After that, ten more years were commonly expected in order to learn to control bankai properly.

He had achieved bankai in less, and intended to master it in less. But with a seated officer's duties to occupy him, and a stubborn desire for perfection in all of his training, the process could not go as speedily as he would otherwise have liked. He would have liked more knowledge on how other Captains had gone about perfecting their bankai, especially someone with a reputation for genius, like Urahara Kisuke. Or with a reputation for power, like Kuchiki Byakuya. But the secrets of bankai, individual or collective, where among the more closely guarded in Soul Society. No Captain wanted the minutiae of their ability to become common knowledge, and so he was left with only his own instinct as guide. That, and Hyourinmaru. Neither were forgiving masters.

He had never been particularly good at keeping track of time. In Jyunrinan, the only important thing about keeping track of time had been to be aware of when watermelons were in season. After Hinamori had left, refusing to keep track of the passing months and years had been a way of refusing to acknowledge that she'd taken something from him in leaving. It hadn't worked particularly well. But since becoming Shinigami, time had shed even more of its meaning, passing even less remarked. Tapping into the core of one's true spirit power granted Shinigami an agelessness that surpassed even that experienced by all souls in Soul Society as they waited their time to be reborn, and it was a fact of life that he accepted easily – with only the occasional twinge of frustration to think that it might also mean he had managed to get himself stuck too early, at too short a height.

But even so, he could endure the lifetimes it might take to grow into his height with more grace than the time it was taking him to walk the path to a Captainship he could claim without challenge. He was still no good at counting the months as they went by, but seasons came and went, and every winter – the season in which Hyourinmaru seemed liveliest – he tried to tell himself that one more winter was a small price to pay in order to earn a Captain's rank unquestioned.

Komamura had not spoken to him again in private. If the large Captain had doubts about the time his fourth seat officer was taking, they could be seen no more than the expression on his hidden face. At division exercises and officer meetings, he spoke no differently to Hitsugaya than before, so that no one else in the division seemed to have noticed anything amiss. But what they missed, Hitsugaya did not. The structure of the division and the regular distribution of its duties made it easy to continue to do his tasks without anyone noticing that Komamura had not once, since learning that he had achieved bankai, given him a direct order. Hitsugaya appreciated the silent gesture, and returned it by making sure that his private training in no way interfered with his fourth seat work. Staying up all night to read advanced kidou scrolls could not be allowed to become an excuse to arrive late to squad inspections.

But no impasse could last forever, and he wasn't really surprised to look back and find that it was Hinamori who was indirectly responsible for pushing him onto a more direct path. Somehow, it was always Hinamori.

She caught him again as he was leaving the stationery store with new brushes and inksticks in hand, and the memory of the newest attack Hyourinmaru had shown him in his mind. He wished he could carry his sword with him as he went about his daily business; being separated from his zanpakutou made him uneasy. The right to carry his zanpakutou at all times, in all places, regardless of regulations or battle status, would be one Captain's privilege he was only too eager to embrace.

"Hitsugaya-kun! You go through ink pretty quickly, don't you?"

She was smiling, as usual. Brightness and energy and a total disregard for whoever might be watching, as usual.

Even now, he still missed her.

But that was no reason to encourage her.

"You're here pretty often yourself. I should think a Vice Captain would be using up more ink than a fourth seat, assuming she was doing her work properly."

"Always so cold, Shiro-chan! You're not going to make any new friends that way, you know."

"Who needs them."

"I do, for one. But I've already got good ones, ne, Shiro-chan?"

"Hinamori. If you do not stop calling me that in public, I'm going to…" But what he might do was lost to a growl of frustration, and a furtive glance around the street to be sure that no one had overheard.

"Listen, Hitsugaya-kun," she said, her tone suddenly changed. She paused and looked around as well, then went on. "Come with me to lunch. My treat. I know the best place to get rice cakes."

"Rice cakes? What's this about?"

"Can't I just invite you to lunch?" she demanded, shaking her wrapped parcel of stationery goods at him in frustration. "Just say yes!"

"All right, all right. You can buy me rice cakes, if it will calm you down."

"It will. Now let's go."

They walked together, and she babbled cheerfully about her duties as a Vice Captain, about Aizen, about how Hisagi-fukutaichou had had to knock an 11th Division rookie unconscious because he made fun of Isane-fukutaichou's height, about Aizen, and about the hard time she had been having trying to teach kidou to some of her division's newer recruits, until Hitsugaya managed to catch her in the middle of a pause.

"Hinamori, you asked me to lunch because you want to talk to me about something, right? What is it?"

"Ah, Hitsugaya-kun, you never let me get away with anything. I was coming around to it. I just… thought we could get something to eat first, and find somewhere private."

"Private?" He didn't know whether to feel alarmed, or happy that she wanted to set aside time like this for the two of them. It hadn't happened in a long time. "What's this about? Is everything all right?"

"Well… that's what I was going to ask you, Hitsugaya-kun."

His heart sank with sudden foreboding. "Ask… me?"

"Yes." She frowned, and a sudden breeze fluttered the ends of her hair ribbons against her cheek. "I don't know how to say it, really, but there's… there's something different about you lately, Hitsugaya-kun. You've been even more distant than usual, but it's not just that."

"I haven't been distant," he said bluntly. "I'm just busy."

"That's what I mean. You never go to any of the seated officer activities, and – "

"I never did to begin with. What does it matter now?"

"Ah, you're making this so difficult!"

"Sorry," he said unapologetically.

"Listen. I just want to know if – "

Another voice interrupted them, echoing down the street.

"Oi, Hinamori!"

Hitsugaya turned to see a tall man with ridiculously bright red hair tied up in the most ridiculous hairstyle, jogging casually past shops and food stands toward them. People moved quickly out of his way, but he seemed not to notice them.

"Abarai-kun!" Hinamori said in surprise.

Abarai. Of course. Hitsugaya had only seem him from a distance once or twice, and never spoken to him, but he had heard enough about him from Hinamori over the years to feel no surprise on seeing the strange tattoos on the man's face. Nor was he surprised, given all the stories, by the casual familiarity with which Abarai approached her, though he couldn't help but find that a bit annoying. Abarai had shared in a part of Hinamori's life that had changed her completely, had been her companion during the years which had pulled her away from her childhood and all its old trappings. Hitsugaya knew it was pointless, and childish, and beneath him, but he couldn't help resenting Abarai Renji for that. At least a little bit.

"Here you are, Hinamori," Abarai said, striking a pose as he drew up beside her that managed somehow to look slothful and arrogant at the same time. Hitsugaya wondered wryly how often the man had practiced it. "You've been missing all morning. What the hell have you been up to?"

"That's none of your business, Abarai-kun. Besides, I can – "

"Who's the squirt?"

Hitsugaya grit his teeth and met Abarai's narrowed gaze. He didn't doubt for a minute that Abarai knew exactly who he was, and so he said nothing, only gripped his box of brushes tighter and wished again for Hyourinmaru at his back.

"Argh, boys! You're all the same!"

"Boys?" Abarai turned on her. "What the hell?"

"Why were you looking for me, Abarai-kun?"

"Hell, I was just doing you a favor. Kira told me that Aizen-taichou is looking for you."

"Aizen-taichou!" she echoed, her eyes wide, and her entire aura was transformed by sudden concern. "Oh no, and here I've spent all morning shopping! I have to get back to the 5th Division compound immediately! Hitsugaya-kun, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"I'll see you later Hitsugaya-kun, Abarai-kun!"

And with that she ran off, her sleeves flapping, her ribbons trailing behind her. She took five long strides down the street, then gathered herself, leapt easily to a nearby rooftop, and vanished over the horizon.

Hitsugaya sighed before catching himself, then shot Abarai a suspicious look to find him, unfortunately, staring right back.

"So," Abarai drawled. "You must be Shiro-chan, eh?"

Hitsugaya nearly broke the box and all the brushes in it. It was all he could do to keep his reiatsu firmly in check. The next time he got Hinamori alone, he was going to… going to… do something…

"Heh. Don't worry about it. She doesn't talk about her childhood with anyone other than me and Kira." Then he grinned, a slightly lopsided grin that showed sharp canines somehow perfectly in keeping with the sharp angles of the tattoos obscuring his eyebrows. "I don't think."

"She can say whatever she wants. No one cares about other people's childhood stories."

Abarai suddenly frowned, and Hitsugaya wondered for a moment if he might have let his reiatsu slip.

It didn't matter. He just wanted to get out of here.

Without another word, he turned sharply and started back the way he'd come, already planning a roundabout route to get back to 7th Division. A route that would keep him far away from anyone who might have heard anything Hinamori had ever said about him.

"Oi," Abarai called after him, and there was a sharpness to his tone now that hinted at business. Hinamori had always said Abarai had the power to back up his attitude, but Hitsugaya didn't care to put it to the test. He didn't trust himself to hold back, and he wasn't sure if Hinamori would forgive him if he didn't. Besides, his disciplinary record so far was spotless, and he intended to keep it that way. So Hitsugaya ignored him, and fortunately the man made no further effort to call him back, or to follow.

He made it back to the 7th Division compound without incident, but he had barely stepped past the massive entrance gate when Etsuko Aru came running across the main courtyard to meet him. The long walk had hardly begun to wear the edges off his temper, and his effort to ease his scowl failed completely.

"Hitsugaya! Word from Imada-fukutaichou. He says you need to report to him immediately at the 4th Division relief center."

"Why? Is he injured?"

"Well, I think so, but I don't think it's serious. He said it was important, but it didn't seem urgent in that way. He sent for Watari too. He's already on his way."

"All right. I'm going."

It wasn't until he was halfway to 4th Division, following Hinamori's example this time and taking the rooftops for a shorter route, that he realized he was still carrying around his parcel of brushes and ink. It was too big to tuck comfortably into his kimono, and it had been too expensive to simply leave lying about in the hope of coming back for it later, so he resigned himself to carrying it. Hopefully this wasn't any sort of call to arms, and it wouldn't matter if he was seen lugging about his shopping. It was his free time after all, wasn't it?

Damn Abarai… damn Hinamori and her damn Shiro-chan... she knew how to make him act a fool like no one else…

One of the ever attentive relief center assistants accosted him before he'd taken more than five steps into the building, asking with iron cheerfulness how she could help move him along.

"I'm here to see Imada-fukutaichou."

"Yes, of course, right this way."

Imada was in a private room toward the center of the compound, where higher-ranking officers were usually treated. Watari was already there with him, but the room was otherwise empty. Imada sat up straighter on the medical bed when Hitsugaya walked in, and smiled in the way that made his scar smooth almost to invisibility.

"Hitsugaya. Perfect timing, as usual. Sorry I can't stand up to greet you."

"What happened?" Hitsugaya asked as he came to the bedside and folded his arms, tucking his parcel under one arm.

"Oh, I just got careless. A Hollow tried to hamstring me."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He had seen Imada in battle too many times to buy this nonchalant act. Any Hollow with the strength to wound a Vice Captain was a formidable Hollow indeed. He would read the reports on this mission with interest when he got back to the division compound.

"Anyway, I have orders for you and Watari."

"A mission?"

"I know you'd like one, and I'm sorry I can't oblige. It's a meeting tomorrow. All second and third seats are expected to attend, but they tell me I won't be walking by tomorrow, so someone is going to have to go in my place. Watari, you'll go as acting second, and Hitsugaya, you'll go as acting third."

Watari nodded, somber as ever.

Hitsugaya nodded as well, and hoped his lack of enthusiasm for the prospect didn't show. Once, the thought of participating in functions alongside Hinamori would have pleased him, but that fantasy had long since passed, replaced by others. At the moment, he could think of few things less appealing than the thought of spending time at a meeting with Hinamori, Kira, and any other assortment of second and third seats who might have been listening to Hinamori's childhood stories…

"But there is a ray of hope in the affair," Imada went on, fixing Hitsugaya with a knowing look. "After the meeting, all officers present have been officially requested to assist Kurotsuchi-taichou in testing some of his new combat inventions. New dummy Hollows, or some such thing. It will be an excuse to draw some blades at least. Besides, you both need to get used to this sort of tedious business."

Hitsugaya wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he thought that Imada's gaze lingered on him speculatively for a moment. The moment passed quickly, however, and Imada scratched casually at the shadow of stubble along his jaw.

"Anyway, that's all. Sorry to interrupt your free time, but I thought I'd give you both some time to plan for re-arranging your schedule. Give squad oversight off to Jiroubou and Etsuko for the day."

They discussed division business for a few more minutes before a young woman carrying a tray of food came in and ushered them out, insisting that it was time for the Vice Captain's lunch. Imada didn't look particularly distressed by her insistence or her company, and Hitsugaya was quick to retreat, giving Watari a polite nod before heading off down a wide hallway which looked likely to lead him out of the labyrinthine building eventually. Normally he wouldn't have minded Watari's company for the walk back, but he'd had enough unexpected conversations for one day.

Unfortunately, the day was clearly not yet done with him.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-san!"

He turned, recognizing the reiatsu a moment before the sound of the gentle voice reached him. It had been years since he'd been this close to Unohana, but there was something about even her reiatsu – a strange, strong gentleness – that made her unforgettable. She was smiling at him now, her hands clasped serenely before her, standing in the hallway behind him as though she had been there all along – though he was absolutely certain that she hadn't been. His senses had grown sharper by immeasurable leaps and bounds since Hyourinmaru had granted him his bankai.

"Unohana-taichou."

"I thought I sensed your reiatsu," she said calmly. "You do seem to be one of those people whose reiatsu is heightened by strong emotion."

"Emotion?" he echoed, trying to sound surprised, calm, disinterested – but he knew he'd failed just by the sound of his own voice. He'd missed calm and disinterested by unfortunate miles. Defensive and frustrated was more like it. Deep in his chest, he could feel the dragon coiling restlessly, a feeling which had rarely come to him since achieving bankai had set most of it free.

Unohana's smile deepened. "Indeed. I see I am not helping the situation. Forgive me. But while I have you here, I think this is a good time for another medical inspection."

"I'm not injured."

"I can see that. But all seated officers must have regular inspections, Hitsugaya-san, and yours is once again long overdue."

"Do we have to do this now?"

"Of course not. I can send someone around to 7th Division to fetch you some time next week if you'd prefer. I hope they won't be interrupting any other business you might have."

He had a sudden image of an apologetic 4th Division representative bowing their way into division training in front of a whole slew of new recruits in order to drag him off, and decided that right now wasn't so bad a time. As Unohana had no doubt intended.

"All right."

"Good. Please come this way."

She attempted no small talk as she led him, and for that he was glad. They passed through several halls, and eventually came to a room with a view of the inner garden and fountain. He thought it might be the same room in which she'd inspected him before, but couldn't be certain. The room was not nearly as memorable as the woman whose presence dominated it.

"Please, sit down. And hold this, if you would."

She handed him a small silver ball, and he took it in his hand with a frown. "I remember."

"This should be a quick inspection, just like last time. I only need a few minutes. Please remember to hold it loosely."

He nodded, and focused on keeping not only his hand relaxed, but his entire body, as Unohana moved quietly around him, sensing him in ways he didn't entirely comprehend. He had been avoiding this meeting for a long time, for fear of what she might sense. Too late now. And if the ball he was holding truly could measure spirit power in the way she had claimed at their last meeting, then there was really no point in trying to hide things.

She said nothing as she worked, moving her hands in mysterious gestures, and finally came to stand in front of him again with another calm smile, holding out her hand for the ball. He passed it over, and she lifted it for inspection, carefully balanced on the tips of her fingers. The light inside of it was glowing so brightly blue that it reflected clearly in her eyes. She gazed into the ball, serene and expressionless, for several moments. Then she lifted her gaze and met his over the ball's glowing edge.

"Hitsugaya-san. You have made quite impressive progress in fully tapping your spirit power since last I saw you."

"I've been training."

"So I see." She lowered the ball and slipped it away somehow into her haori. "Last time, I said your power level was at least Vice Captain class. You have passed well beyond that now."

He stubbornly said nothing. If she was going to bring it out into the open, then he might as well invoke some equal footing, and insist on his right to silence.

"Possessing intrinsically high spirit power does not necessarily mean that one has mastered certain skills. Nor does the mastering of certain skills require only high spirit power. However, I think I would not be wrong if I were to make a guess about certain aspects of your training, Hitsugaya-san. Certain types of zanpakutou have a way of… driving their wielders. As your healer, I would merely request that you come to me, should the after-effects of your training require treatment. I suspect you have foregone such treatment in the past."

"Unohana-taichou…" he began, but found he didn't know how to say what he wanted without sounding rude.

"Please, do not be concerned. If you wish to continue as you are, I will respect your wishes. But I would ask you one question, if I may."

He nodded, trying not to tense, his hands closing into fists on his thighs as he kept his seat on the stool.

"Do you know why you are choosing to wait?"

He frowned, tempted to give a quick and dismissive answer, but clenched his teeth and forced himself to tread more carefully. He did not want to offend someone he might – if all went well – be working closely with in future.

"I do not require an answer," she said calmly, and though she was no longer smiling, the aura of gentleness about her remained.

For the first time in someone else's presence, Hitsugaya consciously allowed himself to release his own spirit power enough to open his senses fully, and so was able to fully note the way Unohana's reiatsu filled the room with a warmth that seeped into the surroundings so unobtrusively it was almost easy to overlook, to mistake for part of the aura of the place rather than of the person. Most people probably never realized the size of it, so gently did it envelop them.

"I would merely say this," she went on, "if you will permit me the presumption of unsolicited advice. Perfection can never be attained quickly in life, never gained on a schedule. And never will it come before honesty. If you have a goal, do not leave it too long on the horizon. Take it for your own sake."

"I…" he said, hesitating, then finally sighed. "I'll think about it."

"Good," she said, and smiled again. "I'm afraid I'm also going to have to insist that you come more regularly for check-ups. I will have to submit certain reports on your health, so we might as well get an early start."

He would have argued, but he was getting a very clear idea already that Unohana was not someone he wanted to annoy. If she wanted a head start, then he would make one too. He knew the three methods by which Captains gained their rank, and since he didn't plan on killing anybody it would be wise to have a few sets of friendly eyes when it came time to be observed by his future peers. He had no intention of failing, no matter who was watching, but allies couldn't hurt.

"But I should also say," she added, the sudden lilt in her voice almost cheerful, "that your practice at keeping your reiatsu in check has served you well in the end. I'm afraid you'll find it necessary to keep from projecting it, when dealing with most others. The last time I managed to get Zaraki-taichou in here for his check-up, his bad mood caused a most unfortunate fainting endemic in a large portion of my staff. It is always much simpler to deal with someone with a bit more self-control."

Hitsugaya slid off the stool, instinctively snapping his wrists to clear them of the kimono sleeves, even though he was carrying no sword at the moment to draw. "I'll keep that in mind," he said dryly, and gathered his much abused stationery parcel. By the sound of rattling inside, he was going to have to go straight back to the store to replace inksticks broken by a frustrated grip.

"Thank you." Unohana smiled at him, her deep eyes seeming to peer straight into him, seeing far more than the surface allowed. But somehow this didn't disturb him as much now as it might have before. " I look forward to your next visit, Hitsugaya-san."

Hitsugaya had a bad feeling about the officers' meeting from the moment he woke the next day, an inexplicable sense of foreboding that chased him all through the morning, so that by the time he and Watari arrived at the Central Court complex he felt as though he were walking into a battle. His combat instincts had always been good, and he did not expect to be proven wrong, though he couldn't yet guess the form the conflict might take. At the least he was glad that, as they were expected to assist in combat testing later on, he was carrying his zanpakutou. With Hyourinmaru at his back, he was willing to face anything. Even inter-division meetings.

"Watari," he said, as they climbed yet another seemingly endless flight of stairs on their way to the designated building, "how many of these things have you been to?"

"None." The older Shinigami's lean face looked even more somber than usual. A frown furrowed his brow, and his long-fingered hand kept rising near his obi and then falling away, as though he wished he could hold onto the hilt of the zanpakutou at his waist. "These sorts of meetings aren't common. Outside of emergencies, the Vice Captains meet officially once a year. Unofficially, who really knows. They operate in a different world most of the time, really. Even third seats don't deal much in their business, outside of our own divisions. I couldn't even begin to tell you how often the Captains meet."

Hitsugaya glanced speculatively in Watari's direction, then looked away again. He had never before seen the man so nervous. He had always liked Watari Kazuo, but he was beginning to realize that just because a man had courage in battle didn't mean he was cut out to face administrative entanglements. Not that he could really blame him. He himself would have much preferred facing a Hollow than this meeting.

"Third seats meet twice a year," Watari went on, "but this is the first time there's been a joint meeting with the Vice Captains since I become third seat."

"Do you know what the agenda is?"

"Imada-fukutaichou said it's to deal with recent imbalances in the distribution of new souls through the Rukongai districts."

"Fascinating," Hitsugaya said, struggling not to roll his eyes. He recognized that it was an important issue, and had slogged his way through more than enough reports on those numbers himself in the course of his duties. But it was hardly something he wanted to deal with on a day when he might otherwise have been training.

Watari, however, seemed not to hear him.

"But I think that the real reason they've called for all of us to attend is for Kurotsuchi-taichou's field testing."

"Field-testing what, is what I'd like to know," Hitsugaya muttered.

"As would I," Watari replied, looking suddenly more anxious than ever. "You hear too many stories of the things that come out of the Research…"

But they had arrived at the top of the stairway at last, stepping into an open plaza before a long, low building, and the sight of black-clad figures in the distance under the building's wide eaves silenced anything Watari might have had to say. You could never trust that echoes wouldn't carry, in between the stone walls of the Central Court.

Hitsugaya was in no hurry to cross the plaza to begin this bureaucratic affair, and fortunately Watari, whatever his reasons, seemed to share his reluctance. They approached the building slowly, and Hitsugaya was able to watch the officers who had already gathered in their mingling.

He recognized some faces, but not many. Hisagi Shuuhei was standing by a closed door with his bare arms crossed, apparently occupied with trying to ignore an argument taking place right in front of him as a small, sandy-haired woman squared off with a taller man wearing a white headband. He also recognized Kira Izuru, but none of the people with whom the 3rd Division Vice Captain was quietly conversing looked familiar.

No sight, yet, of Hinamori.

There was a sudden commotion, subtle but obvious, among those already gathered when a slender man turned the corner of the building to approach the main entrance with a woman at his side. Even from a distance she was instantly recognizable, and Hitsugaya sighed. One encounter with 10th Division's third seat was all he'd really needed.

"Eh?" Watari spoke up suddenly, and for the first time all day he smiled faintly as he glanced toward Hitsugaya. "I take it that sigh means you know Matsumoto-san?"

"No. Why would it mean that? Maybe I just don't like him. Who is he, anyway?" he added quickly, already eager to change the subject. He could just see where that conversation would have headed. He had never quite lived down that ridiculous sakura tree rumor with Yumiko.

"That's Nakada-fukutaichou. Well, I suppose you may as well call him Nakada-taichou, but he wouldn't like hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Nakada's been Vice Captain of the 10th for… you know, I'm not really sure. Some say decades, some say over a century. They've been waiting for the Central 46 or any of the other Captains to make some recommendation for a new 10th Division head, but all the rumors say that no one's been able to come up with a name that everyone could agree on. I don't even know if anyone has tried the exam in all that time. If they did, they kept it quiet, and word of failure hasn't spread. Captain class people are hard to find."

Hitsugaya said nothing. Fortunately, Watari didn't seem to expect him to contribute an opinion.

"I don't know much more than that, but Nakada-fukutaichou has a good reputation. He's been holding the 10th together, Captain or not. He still insists on going to every Vice Captain's meeting, as I understand it. Matsumoto-san still comes to the third seat meetings as well, but she's acting Vice Captain for the 10th for all intents and purposes."

Hitsugaya frowned, but still said nothing. Watari's information conjured up all sorts of disquieting thoughts.

In all his time striving for bankai and studying with the Captain's exam in mind, he had never stopped to think about where he would go, on the day the ultimate goal was met. When it came right down to it, he hadn't really expected to take control of a division right away. Sooner or later, even in Shinigami terms, Captains stepped down, and perhaps the arrival of fresher blood on the scene would instigate an eventual shift in hierarchies – that was what he'd assumed. But it might all be much more simple when it came to it, as it had been when he had left the academy and joined 7th Division. Where there were openings, someone must go.

He stared intently at Nakada Kisho as they drew nearer, wondering what sort of Vice Captain he really was, beyond what the rumors might say. A somber expression, long hair tied efficiently back, an unaltered standard black kimono – all pointed promisingly at someone with his business priorities in order. But superficial signs could be misleading, and so Hitsugaya hoped to get a good look at the man's eyes to –

His wandering thoughts met an abrupt end, however, as the pressure of a large, powerful reiatsu entered the plaza, approaching from behind.

Hitsugaya froze in his tracks, fingers curling into loose fists. He took a moment to ensure that he had his own reiatsu tightly in check before turning his head to see who had arrived, though he was sure that only a Captain could have projected that sort of reiatsu.

And there was certainly no mistaking Kurotsuchi Mayuri's distinctive silhouette.

Hitsugaya had never met Kurotsuchi face to face before, but he had always made exceptions for entertaining rumors where Captains were concerned. Kurotsuchi had more than his fair share, none of them good.

And when a moment's observation made it clear that Kurotsuchi was in fact walking across the plaza straight toward him – his approach was too direct to be mistaken – Hitsugaya understood the sense of foreboding that had been plaguing him since morning.

"What is he…?" Watari began in a whisper, then fell silent.

Hitsugaya suddenly wished that Watari would move on, leaving him behind. He would have liked the authority in that moment to issue orders that would allow him to get through this encounter without an eavesdropper immediately at hand.

"Well then," Kurotsuchi said as he drew nearer, his high voice carrying clearly over the plaza flagstones, though he spoke in a subdued, almost lilting, tone. "This would be the young genius Komamura and Yamamoto have been keeping so carefully under wraps, it seems. Most curious behavior, one might say. Makes me wonder what they're planning for you."

Hitsugaya only stared back in silence as he tried to decide the best method of dealing with the man. Bad reputation or not, Kurotsuchi was still a Captain. Whether or not that should automatically earn him respect, it certainly made him dangerous.

But the dragon was coiling in his chest again, and he could practically feel Hyourinmaru vibrating at his back.

Was this really something he needed to worry about anymore?

"Oh?" Kurotsuchi reached them at last, and tilted his masked head like a curious animal, meeting Hitsugaya's gaze. "Those are interesting eyes you have, little genius. Full of threat. You're not at all afraid of me, are you? Very interesting."

"Should I be?" Hitsugaya replied in as bland a tone as he could manage.

"That depends on who you ask. Personally I think I'm a very generous man. I would have treated you well, in my division. But there's no point regretting lost opportunities, when instead you can be making new ones. So let's make the most of the day together, shall we? Nemu."

"Yes, Mayuri-sama," the woman behind him replied, stepping forward. Hitsugaya had seen her, but chosen to keep his focus on the Captain rather than his adjutant. She was most likely the 12th's Vice Captain, but she had kept far back as they walked, her eyes lowered, and her reiatsu almost indistinguishable beside Kurotsuchi's. Something about her made Hitsugaya immediately uncomfortable, but he knew now was not the time to become distracted.

"Get these other fools inside and start the meeting," Kurotsuchi instructed calmly, his eyes never leaving Hitsugaya's. "I think that I'll have this boy take care of the testing for today."

"Yes, Mayuri-sama."

A muscle twitched in his tightening jaw at the word 'boy,' but Hitsugaya determinedly made no reply. He could feel Watari looking at him anxiously before following the woman Nemu, but he didn't tear his gaze away from Kurotsuchi in order to acknowledge it. A moment ago he would have been only too glad to be spared the meeting and get straight to combat testing, but now it seemed clear the matter was not going to be nearly as simple as he'd hoped.

He pondered, for a moment, questioning Kurotsuchi's decision, but decided there was no way he could do so without attracting a great deal of unwanted attention, not to mention 12th Division's ill favor. It might cause problems for Komamura, and that was reason enough to swallow his pride. At least for now.

There was the sound of distant muttering far behind him as he followed Kurotsuchi out of the plaza, but he could make out none of the words, and even the echoes were soon lost as they turned down a long street lined with tall buildings. A cool wind whistled down the empty path, snapping the ends of their clothing, and Hitsugaya watched the odd twitching movements of Kurotsuchi's fingers with narrowed eyes, trying to make some sense of the man. Or at least of whatever physical strengths he might possess.

"I don't normally concern myself with other divisions, you know," Kurotsuchi said as they walked. "Other Captains can do as they please with their subordinates, so long as they don't interfere with my work. But I appreciate skill, and the word genius does catch my attention. Tell me… Hitsugaya, isn't it?"

"Yes," he answered stiffly.

"You should be honored that I remember the name."

"You have no reason to."

"Eh, I have no patience for modesty," Kurotsuchi said, tensing his fingers in a jerky snap, then tapping one long nail against the palm of his hand as he walked.

"It's not modesty," Hitsugaya replied, closing his own hands into fists. "I have no desire to attract attention to myself."

Kurotsuchi laughed, a sound as jerky as the movements of his fingers, high and disquieting. But whatever else he might have said in reply was lost to the moment as they stepped out into another plaza, this one surrounded on all sides by tall, featureless walls. The buildings were so closely packed together here that the area felt more like a walled pit than a courtyard, and it would have been entirely empty if not for the small cluster of people dressed in strange lab coats on one side – and what looked like nearly two dozen large, deformed monster shapes, all standing or crouched in perfect stillness.

"As I said, this is a good opportunity, boy," Kurotsuchi said, moving across the plaza toward the waiting men and creatures. "I get to test my inventions and have my curiosity sated at the same time. And if you happen to prove unequal to the task, well, that will be no great loss to me. You're not mine, after all." He stopped at the center of the plaza and turned at last to face Hitsugaya, his bared teeth flashing in a static grin.

Hitsugaya planted his feet and crossed his arms. "You want me to fight all of these alone?"

"If you do not think you can handle it, then perhaps you're not even worthy of my curiosity after all."

"I'm not here for your curiosity," he said coldly, already past the end of his limited patience. He reached up and closed his hand around Hyourinmaru. "Let's just get this over with."

"Heh. So be it." Without even a warning step, Kurotsuchi vanished from sight and reappeared at the side of the plaza, near his subordinates and monstrous inventions.

Hitsugaya drew his sword, watching the bustling around those unmoving creatures warily. They were clearly some type of dummy Hollow, with shapes as varied as any he had seen among real Hollows in the field. Small to large, some with arms and some without – all of them indistinguishable from the real thing except for the lack of a glow in the emptiness of their masked eyes. That, and their stillness as Shinigami moved around them.

Hitsugaya pushed his right foot slightly forward, testing the flatness of the paving stones by their scrape under his sandal. Good ground. No place to hide. No obstacles. He lowered the tip of his sword into a ready guard position, and sought to get a good spirit sense of the enemy. But he realized, as soon as the first of the creatures began to move under Kurotsuchi's direction, that unlike real Hollows these things had no spirit presence at all, making their movements impossible to sense with anything but the eyes.

He made a soft noise of irritation and adjusted his grip more comfortably around Hyourinmaru. The temptation to dismiss these inventions as tools for mere students or recruits was strong, but he knew that the Vice Captains would not have been requested for this battle test if it were truly so trivial a matter. So when three of the creatures broke away from the waiting file and began to advance, he was alert and ready.

Yet even so, when the first creature to come close – crawling along the ground on six legs – suddenly sprouted a tentacle that shot toward him at nearly shunpo speed, Hitsugaya was more than a bit surprised.

But he hadn't spent years training for nothing, and no dummy Hollow was going to move faster than Hyourinmaru's frozen tail; after surviving the dragon, little else managed to seem threatening.

He dodged the tentacle, seeing as it went by that it was tipped with a pincer-like claw. At a glance it was hard to tell for certain, but he thought it seemed to be dripping a faint green ooze. Poison? Some other kind of debilitating agent? He frowned as he twisted around, bringing his sword down in a sharp arc that severed the clawed tip from the retreating tentacle. Poison was one hell of an addition to dummy Hollows, if they were ever to be fielded against students or recruits. The things didn't move mechanically either, but with all the fluidity an experienced Shinigami could expect from the real thing.

Still, for Vice Captains, or for third seats, even advanced models such as these wouldn't prove a true challenge. So what was he missing?

The creatures worked in admirable unison, more so than real Hollows would have. The first group came three at once and attempted to surround him. He leapt to the side, avoiding a sharp arm thrusting at him like a spear, used the large flat head of the second creature as a platform from which to jump, and descended on the third with a clean downward stroke. He aimed for the mask as usual, unsure of how the result might differ – but even anticipating oddity, he hadn't been expecting the explosion that followed.

He thought he could hear Kurotsuchi's laughter as the force of the explosion threw him back. Scowling, he twisted in midair, pushed off the ground with one hand to turn his flight into a manageable flip, and shook burning cinders out of his hair with a sharp snap of his head before leaping back into the fray. He danced around the attack of a dummy Hollow that looked like a serpent with spider legs, and braced Hyourinmaru in both hands over his shoulder as he skidded under the creature's arching body and leapt up, slicing it cleanly in half from bottom to top. This time, he was ready for the explosion, and a swift shunpo took him easily out of harm's way.

He turned to the third monster, ready for its attack, but found that it was just standing there, swaying slightly as though in a breeze, or moved by some internal music. It seemed to be watching him, but without any spirit force to sense or eyes to see, it was hard to tell for certain.

But he did not have the time to decipher the mystery, because the second wave of creatures were already on him, and this time Kurotsuchi did not seem content with sending them in small groups. At least ten swooped down on him at once, the smaller ones slithering or leaping in below the larger ones so that only a few could reach him at a time, though many shot tentacles or barbs indiscriminately into the melee.

A reddish dart came flying straight toward his face right through the explosion cloud of a fallen monster, and Hitsugaya deflected it at the last moment with a reverse sweep of his sword's spine. The dart ricocheted off to the side and embedded itself in the wall of a distant building with such force that he could hear the crack clearly; a hiss of stone being liquified by some poison followed.

He snarled as he traced the dart's path back to its source, and descended on the monster with an aerial leap and a cry to lend greater strength to his strike. It exploded like the others, but spurted a red liquid as it did so that scoured holes into the flagstones like acidic blood. He caught the red spray with a sweep of his sleeve, saving his face.

What the hell was Kurotsuchi thinking? Even a skilled officer could have been caught by dart or spray moving at those speeds! Just how was he planning to use these things?

Hitsugaya took three more down in quick succession before noticing the dummy Hollow from the first round again – still standing motionless except for that slight sway, hovering at the edge of battle. Watching him.

He didn't like it. Whatever it was doing, that thing had to go down.

But before he could make a move in that direction, what seemed like the entire remainder of Kurotsuchi's monstrous army descended on him.

He was too conscious of being watched, and something about the nature of these creatures made him uncomfortable; he wasn't getting any sense of pleasure or accomplishment out of this, as he would in normal training.

"Fine," he muttered, raising Hyourinmaru to block a creature's open mouthed lunge for his head. The blade caught in the monster's teeth, and with a sharp snap of his wrists Hitsugaya twisted the sword so that white teeth cracked and shot from the mask in shattered pieces. Another twist, and the head was split. "Fast and ugly it is, then."

He counted them off – one shunpo, one strike, for each monster. They exploded behind him, so that when all movement ceased only the combined smoke of their deaths remained, swirling about him.

That, and the swaying dummy Hollow.

He shifted his grip on Hyourinmaru for a low charge, but froze when a sudden light appeared in the creature's eyes. It wasn't the same as the glow he would have expected in a Hollow's, but there was an undeniable awareness there.

This time, he was certain that he could hear Kurotsuchi's soft laughter.

The creature lunged for him, moving faster than any of the others.

Hitsugaya shifted to the side to evade it – only to find it moving as though in mirror image to his own steps.

It lashed out at him with a bladed arm, but a clean swipe with Hyourinmaru severed the limb. Only to see it grow back again almost instantly in a strange bubbling of white flesh.

"Tch. That's not enough, Kurotsuchi!"

He lunged in, but again the creature moved as though it had anticipated his movements, avoiding his strike and stepping off directly into the path he had next intended to take.

In a sudden flash of understanding, Hitsugaya realized the truth.

There was an awareness there. And it had been watching him – learning his movements.

Learning.

Past time to end this.

Two shunpo put him behind the creature at a speed that no mere machine could follow. He let Hyourinmaru fall to his side and raised his left hand. He had never been a natural at kidou like Hinamori, but years of study for a Captain's rank meant something.

"Hadou number fifty-four," he said, dropping the incantation and focusing his reiatsu more strongly on the spell instead. The creature was turning to face him, but it wasn't fast enough. "Haien!"

Flame burned bright and strong, and the dummy Hollow was incinerated so cleanly that no cinder and no explosion remained.

Hitsugaya lowered his hand. Still frowning, he gave Hyourinmaru a final flick to clear any ash that might have clung to the blade, and sheathed the zanpakutou across his back. Only then did he turn toward the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Ho," Kurotsuchi drawled. "Impressive. But you didn't even release your zanpakutou, and here I was looking forward to seeing the sword they're calling the strongest of the ice and snow family."

"Kurotsuchi," Hitsugaya said coldly. "That was a mod-soul, wasn't it? Those things shouldn't even exist in Soul Society anymore."

"A mod-soul? Don't insult me. I have nothing to do with those defective failures. My inventions are far more sophisticated, and, I should say, far more manageable. That was merely an artificial intelligence, designed for reconnaissance and tactical analysis. It analyzed your technique quite well, didn't it?"

"Not well enough!" he snapped, his temper rising. "More manageable or not, mod-souls are still illegal!"

"My, my, aren't you concerned with propriety! I suppose that's why you didn't release your zanpakutou, is it? A necessary restraint for Captains, certainly."

Hitsugaya fell silent, letting his glare speak for him.

The black interior of Kurotsuchi's mask-like face shifted with his grin, and he cocked his head to tap at one of the golden knobs on the side of his face with his elongated fingernail. "My artificial souls are not the only ones who watch fights with analysis in mind. I would say that Komamura did well with you, but I know better than to credit that fool with any such thing. Only keep this in mind, little genius. I don't care about other men's ambitions, but I do care when men of ambition try to butt into my business. Keep that in mind for the future, and you and I will have no reason to find ourselves at crossed purposes."

Hitsugaya might have found a reply, to defend Komamura if not himself, but Kurotsuchi's subordinates had now come close enough to overhear as they busied themselves gathering the remnants of their destroyed creations. So Hitsugaya merely crossed his arms and let just enough of his reiatsu seep through to sharpen his stare.

"Is that all?" he asked coolly. "Are we done here?"

"Yes. Though it really is a shame. I would so have liked to see what makes you tick, up close and in… detail."

Hitsugaya turned away, took one step, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "I don't care about your ambitions either," he said. "But I don't expect to find you in my business, if the time comes."

One of the nearby 12th Division technicians gasped in surprise, but Hitsugaya no longer cared if he had been overheard.

"Oho," Kurotsuchi chuckled. "It looks like we understand one another, then."

This time he did not look back as he left, and he remained angry enough – wondering whether or not he should report what he suspected about Kurotsuchi's latest combat invention – that he did not notice the presence of another reiatsu nearby, one that wasn't the 12th Division Captain's, until he was nearly out of the plaza. This one was strong, but not nearly at a Captain's level. Someone hiding their true strength, or…

He looked up, pinpointing the source, and sucked in a quiet breath in unhappy surprise.

Standing at the top of one of the tall buildings, affording him a clear view of the plaza and probably all that had happened there, was 10th Division's Vice Captain, Nakada Kisho. With him, his equal in height, but hovering behind his shoulder and radiating a concern that could be felt in her reiatsu even though she was clearly trying to suppress it, was 4th Division's Vice Captain, Kotetsu Isane.

They were both staring down at him, Isane almost sheepishly, but Nakada with a somber intensity that could not be missed even at a distance.

Hitsugaya met his gaze briefly and sighed, then turned away and kept walking.

Perhaps Unohana had shared certain information with her Vice Captain. Perhaps Watari had said something at the meeting to catch Nakada's attention. Perhaps he simply hadn't controlled his reiatsu during the fight as well as he'd thought.

Whatever the reason, he had clearly been watched.

He was probably running out of time in which to make the decision on his own.

Months went by without any significant incident or upset, winter came around again, and Hitsugaya was beginning to hope that his interlude with Kurotsuchi hadn't disrupted things as much as he'd feared.

He had finally mastered hadou and bakudou spells into the eighties to his satisfaction, though he knew he needed to work more on the fluidity of his incantations when approaching the nineties. And with the mastery of the high level Kyoumon barrier he felt that his kidou was finally ready for any test they might throw at him at a Captain's level.

His hakuda still wasn't as good as he would like, and he knew he was no shunpo specialist, such as Kuchiki Byakuya was rumored to be. But both arts, he felt, were at a sufficient level.

With sword, there was no question. Even Hyourinmaru seemed satisfied.

So for the first time in years, he was taking it easy on a training day. He had spent the last four days leading Hollow hunting missions in the countryside outside East Rukongai, and was ready for a day of rest. Long days of work made him even hungrier than usual, which was a feat in its own way, and he had a terrible craving for watermelon that no amount of sweetbean buns seemed able to cure.

He was just eating the sixth bun – or was it the seventh? – when a polite rap came at the door to his room. He struggled to swallow quickly as he stood up from his idle contemplation of the garden, and tried to make himself look a bit less like he'd been lounging around thinking of watermelons as he called for the visitor to enter.

The door slid open and Hinamori stepped lightly in.

"Good afternoon, Hitsugaya-kun! Isn't it a beautiful day?"

"Oh, it's you, Hinamori," he said, relaxing.

"What kind of greeting is that? Of course it's me!"

"What do you mean, of course?" he retorted. "Why should I have been expecting you? How did you get into the compound anyway?"

"I am a Vice Captain you know, Hitsugaya-kun. They'll let me in most anywhere if I ask nicely." She smiled, as bright as usual, and only then did Hitsugaya notice that she seemed to be holding something behind her back.

"What are you doing, Hinamori?"

"Ah!" she cried, suddenly spotting the half-empty plate of buns on the floor near the mat where he'd been sitting. "You're already eating! Why didn't you wait for me?"

Hitsugaya sighed and gave up entirely on maintaining any sort of propriety. He flopped back down onto his mat and made a show of picking up another bun, turning and inspecting it carefully as though for flaws.

"I don't know. Why on earth should I have waited?"

"Hitsugaya-kun, don't tell me you've honestly forgotten what day it is!"

"Moron! Apparently I did!"

"Well, you're just lucky that I didn't." She stomped over to him, but then knelt beside him with a stubborn grace. "Here. This is for you. Happy birthday, Shiro-chan!"

For a moment he just gaped at her, bun held forgotten in his hand. Then he set the bun aside and carefully took the wrapped parcel she was holding out to him.

"My… birthday."

"You did forget, didn't you? Really, Hitsugaya-kun, you need to pay more attention to these sorts of things! Don't you notice when time goes by? You remember my birthday every year, why can't you seem to remember your own?"

"Of course I remember!" he snapped. "But I'm not about to go around celebrating my own birthday by myself, am I?"

"Well, that's why I'm here! And as soon as you open your present I'm going to treat you to a big, four course meal, just as you like them. And you'd better not say you're too full of sweet buns to eat it!"

"I…" he began, but was interrupted by another rap at the door.

"I bet that's someone else who managed to remember your birthday."

"I bet it's not!" he retorted instinctively, then clenched his teeth, determined not to let her goad him into more infantile behavior in front of anyone else, and got to his feet again. "Come in."

This time when the door opened it was one of the officers currently rotating through 7th Division's 14th seat. Hitsugaya recognized his face, but couldn't immediately remember the man's name, so he settled for a cool, "What is it?"

"Your pardon, Hitsugaya-san. But there's a visitor here to see you."

"Who is it?"

"Nakada-fukutaichou, sir. He's waiting for you in the meditation gallery."

Hitsugaya felt an emptiness open up in his stomach.

"Eh?" Hinamori said curiously. "Do you know Nakada-fukutaichou, Hitsugaya-kun?"

"Thank you," Hitsugaya said to the officer at his door. "Tell him I'll be right there."

The door closed, and Hitsugaya turned back to Hinamori, returning his unopened birthday gift. "Here, hold onto this for me. I'll be back to open it as soon as I'm done."

"But Hitsugaya-kun…"

"I don't know why he's here," he said, though he realized the words were probably a lie. He had a pretty good idea as to why Nakada Kisho was here to see him. The man simply couldn't have picked a worse time. "But I'll be right back."

"Well… all right. I'll wait here. But don't expect there to be any buns left if you take too long!"

After a moment's thought, he decided to take Hyourinmaru with him. If this conversation played out as he feared it would, then Hyourinmaru ought to be there. He felt the zanpakutou's spirit stirring as he settled the sword across his back, but no internal voice offered an opinion.

Hinamori watched him handle the sword with a suddenly serious expression, but she said nothing until he was almost out the door.

"Hitsugaya-kun. Be sure you come back. I want to talk to you about something very important later."

He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and slipped out.

It took him several minutes to navigate the compound's corridors and arrive outside the paper-screened doors of the meditation gallery. Fortunately there weren't usually many people in this area of the compound at this time of day, and today was no exception. He paused for a moment outside the door, made a conscious effort to smooth the frown from his face, then opened the screen and stepped in.

Nakada Kisho was standing in contemplation of one of the large ink painting scrolls on the wall, beneath which a bowl of sand held two burning incense sticks. He turned as Hitsugaya entered, and gave a polite half-bow.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Hitsugaya-san. I'm afraid we haven't been formally introduced. I am Nakada Kisho, Vice Captain of the 10th Division."

"I know. You seem to know my name already."

"I do. I must admit that I have been… asking around, about you."

"No offense, Nakada-fukutaichou, but…"

"Why am I here, seeking a private audience with another division's fourth seat officer? It is a good question. But instead of answering it, I would ask a favor of you, Hitsugaya-san."

Hitsugaya raised his eyebrows in surprise, realized he had crossed his arms defensively, and uncrossed them. "What favor is that?"

Nakada stared at him in silence for a moment, and now at last they were close enough for Hitsugaya to see his eyes clearly. They were dark and steady. Trustworthy eyes.

"I would ask you not to dissemble with me," Nakada said, clasping his hands behind his back. He had come without his zanpakutou. Hitsugaya wasn't sure what to make of that gesture. "I would ask you," he went on, "to listen carefully to my words, and not make any quick decisions about what I am about to say."

Hitsugaya sighed softly, and looked awkwardly away from the other man's face, focusing instead on the slow moving spirals of incense smoke as they rose through the air. "I know you saw my exchange with Kurotsuchi," he said at last.

"Yes. Kurotsuchi-taichou – " and Nakada put a slight but unmistakable emphasis on the honorific " – seemed very interested in taking you aside for his test. I confess that I had not given you undue thought before that moment, though of course I have heard of you. Word of your achievements have spread for years, but until very recently those rumors have not acknowledged the extent of the true power I sensed from you when you fought those inventions for Kurotsuchi-taichou. I am not a gifted warrior, Hitsugaya-san, and I will never achieve a Captain's rank, but my senses have always been keen. I know what I saw that day."

"I didn't release my zanpakutou."

"Unnecessary. And even if I'd mistaken what I sensed that day, there is no mistake about what I am sensing now. There are qualities other than a Shinigami's reiatsu that an observant man may measure."

"You asked me not to dissemble. In return, I'll ask you not to dance around the issue. If you have something to say, please just say it plainly so we can… finish this."

Unexpectedly, Nakada smiled. "Direct. That will serve you well, in 10th Division."

Hitsugaya almost snorted. "I'm being direct? I know you've been without a Captain for a long time, but don't you think you're being a little hasty?"

"Perhaps I am." Nakada turned back to the ink painting and sighed, his hands gripping each other more tightly behind his back. "You must understand, that while I appreciate the honor and responsibility of my position, Vice Captainship was never something to which I aspired. It had always been my intention to serve in the Gotei 13 for a few centuries, and then, if I could prove worthy, to take my experience and my study of various disciplines to the Central 46 as an adjutant to the councilors. Perhaps someday to become a member of the council myself."

Hitsugaya was glad that Nakada had his back to turned to him, because he couldn't quite control the expression that crossed his face. As important as he knew the Central 46 to be, he couldn't imagine wanting to choose a life calling that would not allow him the chance to feel Hyourinmaru's grip against his palms or know how it felt to fly on icy wings.

Nakada laughed softly then, and said, "Certainly my former Captain thought me… out of my mind, as he put it. I rose to my position late in his Captainship, and we… lost him… very soon after. I have done my best to hold the division together since that time, but it is past time that a true Captain stepped in. In the Gotei 13, a Captain is the heart of his division. The 10th has been too long without a true leader."

"And what makes you think I could be that leader?" Hitsugaya asked bluntly.

"I can't know for certain. But I do know that at the very least, someone capable of passing the Captain's exam appears so rarely that I cannot let an opportunity pass. The division deserves better, and so does Matsumoto."

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya echoed, and the memory of a wide open kimono and erratically waved jar of sake leapt all too vividly into his mind. "Why should your third seat's position matter in this conversation?" he asked, with a growing sense of alarm.

"I wish to step down from my position, Hitsugaya-san. It is past time. And it is certainly past time for Matsumoto Rangiku to take a Vice Captain's rank officially. She passed the Vice Captain's exam decades ago, and has been performing all of a Vice Captain's functions since. Everyone in the Seireitei acknowledges her rank, and I have been trying to convince her to take my place for many years, but she is… stubborn, about these sorts of things." Nakada met Hitsugaya's gaze for a moment, then, seeing his expression, sighed. "I should have thought that you of all people would understand the danger of judging someone based on their appearance."

Hitsugaya felt the sting of temper mingled with the more subtle heat of shame, but shrugged them both off as best he could to say, "Is this really what we should be talking about right now?"

"Perhaps it is. Truthfully, I was not sure how to go about this in the first place. It is certainly unorthodox, and I have no authority to make you any offers, nor a right to request anything from you. Should I admit my selfishness in this, by saying that a Captain for the 10th would allow me to move on, as I desire? Would that ease your mind about my motivations?"

The man asked the question so earnestly that Hitsugaya almost winced, feeling ashamed again, though he couldn't quite decide why. He looked away, folding his arms, and stared at the ink painting for several long moments.

It was common knowledge in the division that Komamura had his own private meditation hall, and that he spent much time there, and now Hitsugaya thought he could understand why. It was easy to let thoughts drift away on the coils of incense smoke as they made patterns against painted landscapes. Easier than facing them head on, at least. He had never been much good at meditation; it always felt to him like running away. He knew that probably meant that he should relax more or something, but you couldn't be good at everything…

He sighed, and turned back to Nakada.

"I'll think about what you've said, though it's not really up to me, is it?"

Nakada Kisho smiled faintly. "I suspect you haven't really heard the rumors that go around about you."

Hitsugaya tried not to scowl. "I can't say that I want to, either."

"Well then. I have taken up enough of your time. If you will consider my words, that is all that I can ask. Thank you for speaking with me."

He bowed, and Hitsugaya returned the gesture awkwardly, then stood alone in the empty hall for several minutes after Nakada left, wondering if he should believe in signs, and if opportunities could truly be lost if one didn't act quickly enough. He would have liked to talk to Hyourinmaru, but he could tell, just by the quality of the coldness at his back, that his zanpakutou would not speak to him tonight. Hyourinmaru had an inconvenient habit of deciding that his wielder ought to work things out alone at all of the most frustrating times.

Hitsugaya's thoughts were turned so far inwards as he made his way back to his quarters that he completely forgot Hinamori would be waiting for him until he opened the door and saw her sitting on his bed with his plate of buns on her lap. It had been so long since they had been truly alone like this.

"That was quicker than I expected," she said around a mouthful of bun, blushing slightly as she swallowed. "What did Nakada-fukutaichou want?"

"He wanted to admire Komamura's ink paintings."

"Well if you don't want to answer my question just say so!"

"I don't want to answer your question," he said, removing Hyourinmaru and placing the sword carefully on its stand.

"AAH! You are so… "

Then suddenly she sighed, and when Hitsugaya turned back to face her she had her hands clasped tight around the outside edges of the plate, staring down at the buns with an almost pained expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked, slightly alarmed by her abrupt change in demeanor.

"Shiro-chan…" she began softly, without lifting her gaze. "I want to ask you something. And please, just tell me the truth."

He didn't like the sound of that, but he swallowed his misgivings and said, "All right."

"Have you… been doing special training lately?"

Well, he'd said he wouldn't lie.

"Yes."

Her hands closed tighter around the sides of the plate. "You know… I've never even seen your shikai."

"I don't release my shikai except in battle, Hinamori. I've told you that."

"I know. You never did tell me why, but I understand. Maybe it took me a while, but I do see it. Your strength. I do, Shiro-chan."

"Hinamori…"

"Everyone talks about you… everyone says you're a genius, and I know it. I'm so proud of you, I can't even say. But I guess I never… I didn't really realize…"

She drew a deep breath, and her head fell even further, so that he could no longer see her eyes at all, and the ends of her hair nearly swept the buns on the plate in her lap.

He wished that she would stop talking, both for her sake and his own. She was being so emotional, he didn't know where to begin to tell her to stop, or not to worry, or… whatever it was she wanted to hear.

As children, it would have been easy. An insult, a kick, anything.

But he had already walked away from all that. He'd walked away in order to find a way to be something new and different, in her life and his own.

He had no idea how to comfort her anymore.

Probably her own Captain knew her better now than he ever would again.

"Shiro-chan," she said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "Have you been training for your bankai?"

He was quiet for several moments, staring at the top of her bowed head. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. She didn't even want to meet his eyes.

He looked away.

"Yes," he said.

And because his gaze was on the corner of the room, he didn't see the plate of buns flying at his head until it was too late to block.

"OI!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hinamori!" he growled, smacking half of a broken bun from his hair, sure that he was probably smearing bean paste all over the place. "What is your problem?"

"What is my problem? Hitsugaya-kun, how could you do something like this without telling me? Training for bankai can be dangerous, you know! And you've probably been doing it in secret too, with no one to – argh, it makes me so mad!"

"Why should it make you mad? It's none of your business what I – "

"None of my business? None of my business?"

"Well, is it?" he demanded hotly, giving his hair one last frustrated scrub, and wishing fervently that he wasn't still shorter than her, damn it all. "You've been so busy being one of Aizen's subordinates, being a Vice Captain, pursuing your own dreams and goals. Why should you have paid any attention to mine?"

"Sh… Shiro-chan… is that how you really feel?"

"Look, it doesn't matter how I feel about that. That's your business. You're strong, and you have a right to want to be stronger. You want to follow Aizen, and that's fine. Do it. But I have my own path to walk, Hinamori. I'm going to go as far as it will take me, and I'm not going to wait for anyone to say that it's okay, or to say that I can't, or that I should. Not even you. What I'm capable of and when I choose to do it, that's nobody's business but mine. I'm not…"

He stopped, caught by Hinamori's eyes, round with amazement, and by the sudden sound of his own words.

Perhaps the time had come after all.

"You're not…" Hinamori said weakly, her hands moving suddenly together, her fingers interlacing. "You're not… a child anymore. I know. I'm… sorry."

He held his breath for a moment, caught between a sense of long awaited release, to have finally said these things to her face instead of to her memory, and of guilt, for making her look so… so small.

"Aah!" he released a frustrated, heavy sigh. "Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for, idiot."

She smiled weakly. "Not even for throwing the plate at your head?"

"No. Because you're going to buy me dinner, and more buns."

"I will. But… Shiro-chan… I just want to say… I really am proud of you. And you don't need to tell me, because I can see it in your eyes, and I should have seen it earlier probably, but you… you're not just training for bankai anymore. Are you?"

He sighed again, wishing she'd let the topic go. But he wasn't going to lie. "No," he said.

For a long moment she said nothing, only stared at him, her eyes full of so much emotion that he couldn't really work out what she was feeling or thinking.

When she closed the distance between them and reached out slowly, he let her. For the sake of old memories; for a moment, this moment, which he knew with sudden certainty would never come again. They had been on different, distant paths for years, but now, with this final step on his road, there would be a whole new kind of distance. He had already accepted that. He wasn't going to allow himself regrets.

But one last pat on the head, he could allow.

She scrubbed her hand gently through his hair, smiling, her eyes shimmering.

"I guess I really can't call you Shiro-chan anymore."

"Took you long enough," he groused.

"Just promise me that someday I'll be able to see your bankai, all right?"

"I'm not making any promise of the sort! You don't just do something like that in public because you feel like it, Hinamori!"

"Yes, yes, always arguing, Hitsugaya-kun! Come on, come on, let's go eat dinner, and then you're going to open your present, because I can see you've already run down your brushes."

"Were you looking through my desk? And you just told me what my present is, moron!"

"Yes, yes, come on," she babbled cheerily, her small hands pushing between his shoulder blades, propelling him towards the door. "Let's go, Hitsugaya-taichou…"

It was the only time Hinamori ever called him taichou.

He waited until spring to approach Komamura. The decision had been made, in the moment he had yelled at Hinamori. But he wanted to wait until winter was passed; he didn't want there to be any chance that someone would assume his bankai could only retain its full strength in cold weather.

He sent Komamura a written request for a private meeting along with his batch of monthly fourth seat reports. And because he had known that of course Imada would see his reports, and his message, even before Komamura did, he was not surprised when the Vice Captain walked into his office to deliver Komamura's reply.

"Hitsugaya. Komamura-taichou wants to see you."

"I'll go now."

Imada did not speak again until Hitsugaya was passing him on the way to the door, and then the large, scarred man put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hitsugaya. I get the feeling we may not have another officer's meeting together, after this. Am I right?"

"Maybe."

"Well then. Whatever happens, promise me you'll share a drink with me, before you go."

"Not a party…" he said warily.

"No, not a party. You think I could have been your Vice Captain for years and not know you better than that?"

"Imada…" Hitsugaya said slowly, his eyebrow twitching in spite of his best effort to control it. "You're a terrible liar…"

"Oh, all right. Just a small party. It's not like you have all that many friends who would want to drink you off, anyway."

And with that, as though he had just told one of his usual jokes at the end of one of their meetings, Imada laughed loudly at himself and slapped Hitsugaya's shoulder so hard that Hitsugaya could feel it resonate down into his toes.

"I'm not going to thank you for that, you know," Hitsugaya muttered.

"Go on, Komamura-taichou is waiting for you."

Komamura was waiting in his office, and when Hitsugaya entered he was surprised to find the large 7th Division Captain sitting behind his desk. It was the first time he had seen Komamura with a writing brush held – somehow perfectly poised – in his large, gloved hand.

"I am writing a letter to be sent to Yamamoto-soutaichou," Komamura said without preamble, as Hitsugaya came to stand before his desk. "Am I to inform him that Hitsugaya Toushiro wishes to put himself forward for the Captain's examination?"

Hitsugaya drew a deep breath, clenched his fists, and said, "Yes."

"Very well," said Komamura, his brush moving smoothly. For a while the only sounds in the room were that of two Shinigami breathing, and soft brush bristles whispering over parchment. Then Komamura set the brush aside, placed his large hands on the desk to either side of the letter, and rose to his full height, his helmet tilted down toward Hitsugaya. "You came very close to having the recommendation of the six Captains you would need in order to possibly bypass this examination."

Hitsugaya forced himself to turn what might have been a round expression of surprise into a frown instead. "Six… recommendations? Who… why…"

"As for who," Komamura said calmly, "you had my recommendation. Unohana-taichou and Ukitake-taichou also submitted their recommendations this last year."

He was not entirely surprised about Unohana, but… "Ukitake?" he asked skeptically.

"He has shown an interest in you since the day he visited our training, when word came of Akita's death. Though I suspect his interest goes further back, perhaps even to the day we observed your final student testing. As for the rest, Kurotsuchi-taichou also gave his recommendation."

There was nothing he could say to that that wouldn't sound utterly foolish, so he said nothing. But he realized in that moment that it might be a mistake to judge Kurotsuchi Mayuri too quickly.

"It is possible he did so thinking it would prove a slight to me," Komamura said then, much to Hitsugaya's surprise. The large Captain sounded pensive. His words were unguarded and open, as though the shift in rank had already occurred, and barriers could suddenly be dropped. "He is a difficult man to predict. Be wary of unasked gifts from unlikely quarters."

"I will be."

"Yamamoto-sama would have given his recommendation as well, but his position as Commander General prevents him from putting forth candidates. He can only approve them. And as for why, as you asked… perhaps you do not realize how closely your career has been watched, from the moment you began your training at the academy?"

"I knew I was being watched," he admitted uncomfortably. "I didn't know it went that far."

"I think that is a good thing. It proves that you have been pursuing your goal for personal reasons, not for the recognition of others. The exam may be held as soon as one month from the submission of your request," he said then. "Will you be prepared?"

"I'm ready now."

"Good. I suspend you from your duties as my fourth seat officer from this moment forward. Should you fail the exam, you may return to them afterward. But I do not expect that to happen."

And because Komamura had chosen to speak to him honestly, as equals, Hitsugaya returned the favor.

"It won't," he said calmly. "There won't be any embarrassment for either of us."

It felt… right. And he felt a sudden connection with Komamura Sajin that he had not felt in all his years as a subordinate in his division.

A sense of proper place. A shared place.

Hyourinmaru was half a compound away, settled on the stand in his room, but Hitsugaya thought he could hear the dragon's voice, rumbling contentedly deep inside his chest.

They were on the right path at last.