Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the only bleach I own is the stuff I occasionally throw in the washer.

WARNING: A little AU in that this doesn't exactly follow the time-line and is set approximately a year after the end of the Soul Society Arc. Otherwise true to the manga.

Chapter 2

Why I Hate Life:

by Matsumoto Rangiku

Can I please just say that it totally got worse, like, fifteen minutes ago? Taichō's ridiculousness, I mean.

But first, I think there is a bit of explaining in order. While I was rambling and all caught up in a tizzy (I haven't used that word in a while, it's lovely, don't you think?) I'm not sure how clear I was on anything besides the actual incident. And by incident I do not mean The Crusades ver. 2.0 Aizen or the Worlds War One or whatever it is you want to call it—the Aizen Incident, the Winter War, whatever whatever—nor do I mean Taichō not being around for a good six months, though I do suppose that was something of an incident, nor any ramifications of the Aizen Effect, i.e. The Betrayal of Gin.

There I go, stalling again.

I mean The Incident, the bit that started with the bear hug that wasn't a bear hug that would have been a typical trademark Matsumoto Rangiku bear hug if Taichō hadn't gone and GROWN.

So I am pretty sure I was undeniably, unequivocally, embarrassingly accurate in my explanation of The Incident. But I do know that it was a bit sudden, and came without warning.

If I had been paying any attention whatsoever, it wouldn't have been, but what is done, is done.

And in any case, I was caught completely by surprise, and that is all that matters. However, I also caught you be surprise, so I suppose that is what I am really trying to get at.

Basically, I didn't explain anything logically besides The Incident. And after my nap and reviewing my explanation—and thinking rather hard about a few small things that should have given me some clue to my Taichō's newly overwhelming presence, or even intentions—I have decided to run over some small details for you.

When Hitsugaya Toshiro reappeared in the Division Ten headquarters at precisely oh-three-hundred hours, I was supposed to be asleep. And I wasn't supposed to be expecting him. However, he had failed to realize, as exhausted as his overwhelmingly large brain must have been, that Shunsui, whose Third Seat had been with him, would notify me immediately upon his subordinate's—and therefore my captain's—return. And of course, Hitsugaya-taichō would be a bit longer than Shunsui's Third because it is protocol for captains to report directly to General Yamamoto upon returning to the Seireitei from outside missions. So I was waiting when he silently pushed open a door that had remained untouched for six long months—a door I refuse to use or let anybody else use when Hitsugaya-taichō is not in the office.

I had been dozing, which is how he somehow managed to avoid what would have been my instinctive bear hug. I opened my eyes to see him silhouetted in the doorframe, and before my tired body could react, he had already engulfed me in a brief embrace, filling the air around me with his icy presence.

He pulled back before I could be too shocked by his impulsive display of emotion.

That was my first, ignored, clue. I suppose I could say that my wits were dulled by encroaching tiredness and by the subtle numbness that accompanies Hitsugaya when he is merely irate or distracted enough to let his control slip. I assumed he was absolutely exhausted; there was really no other reason for me to be caught up in the easing chill wafting through the room. That would be a rather brilliant excuse for my denseness, but, seriously, I am an officer of the Gotei Thirteen, and I pride myself on knowing all the gossip there is to know in this world, and the one before. Practically. So, in all honesty, there really is no excuse for my lack of total awareness.

Damn Hitsugaya. Why is he so distracting? I feel all flustered around him and can't focus on anything important, and he's still as sharp as a tack, making me feel even more foolish.

So he pulled back, and I am just blinking up at him owlishly, trying to figure out what happened, and he has this sort of half grin on, and I'm a bit surprised because I don't remember his cheekbones being so prominent, or his face being so defined, or his hair so long, or his frame so lanky. I remember he said something like, "It's good to be back, Matsumoto. And good to see not much has changed."

I scoffed, telling him I did not sleep on this couch just for fun, and got up, stretching. We had a rather amiable, if somewhat formal conversation about his travels and our division, and then he said something a bit odd. Something along the lines of, "I missed you, Rangiku." And then with some hasty farewells, we both went to bed.

Yeah. . .alright, alright; this was so obvious that even that blockhead Hisagi probably could have seen it coming.

So, the next morning, the sun came up, as it has a habit of doing, and I woke up quite a bit afterwards, as I have a habit of doing. We are really good friends, the sun and I, we just keep slightly different schedules.

So I woke up, earlier than I had when Taichō had been running the division, and did my morning things (less than a half hour on hair and shower, less than five minutes on make-up), and arrived at the office on time, through the door I hadn't used in six months. Although I was alert, I was far from fully energized; nightmares and an inconsistent sleep schedule had kept me consistently dragging and near exhaustion for a while now. My normal peppiness wasn't AWOL, however; I can usually muster that unless I am beaten half to death.

I knew Taichō would be taking at least some of the morning off, and everyone was mandated to be at a memorial service in the afternoon. I spent the morning making sure the division was in perfect order (which it was) and throwing together an impromptu welcome home party together for that night. But anyway, the point is, he actually didn't come in to the office at all, not even after the memorial service, which I didn't expect, so I had to send a hell butterfly to fish him out of his quarters for the nicely modest affair at Shunsui's Division.

Now, on to the little, but now seemingly obvious, things that would have tipped me off if I had been more awake at said party, I mean, get-together.

I hid, rather effectively, I thought, because no one could really find me for at least an hour. I wanted some alone time, which I got. Then Nanao dragged me into a knot of other high-seated women (I wish there were more of us), and I socialized a bit. I was avoiding Taichō, not really, but I still wasn't sure how to react when I would have to talk to him because my hazy recollection of his maturity was slightly disturbing. Some of the conversation was as follows:

"Your taichō was asking for you." "Really?" (Why the hell would he be doing that?)

"I think your taichō really missed you." "Hnnnn." (No he didn't, go away.)

"Hitsugaya-taichō keeps looking over here, maybe you should go see what he wants." "Maybe later." (Bitch, you are completely wrong, shut the hell up.)

"He's definitely looking at you, Matsumoto, and why are you blushing?" "Ano, it is so warm in here!" (Who wouldn't blush if someone was paying too much attention to you?"

"Oh gods, Rangiku," Nanao finally hissed. "Now he's coming over here. Why didn't you just go surprise him earlier?" "Ano—"

Then Hitsugaya had dragged me from my comfortable knot and into the center of the hullabaloo. "To my beautiful fukataichō, Matsumoto Rangiku!" he shouted, and cheers surrounded me and reverberated of the walls to embrace me again. "For running the Tenth in my absence and being so dedicated to my division's wellbeing!" Glasses clicked, and alcohol was drunk, and shouts were once again heard in the hall. And I managed to get away before getting dragged further into the party. Which of course was not what I would usually do, but I was tired, confused, and still had more work to do if Taichō was going to be satisfied the next day with what I had done in his absence. So I left.

And of course completely ignored another strongly obvious indicator that everything had changed, I think because I was a bit stunned by the fact that Hitsugaya was talking at a large event, and he was drinking alcohol, albeit not much, and my hazy recollection of his newfound maturity had been disturbingly less than accurate, and Gin had left me precisely a year ago, to the day.

That has been my best excuse by far. And you would not be mistaken if you accused me of throwing the party for Taichō so that no one would dwell too much on the idea of wannabe Superman (seriously, who else has used glasses as their only prop, and where the hell else did ex-Captain Five get the idea for that obnoxiously single curl?) and lackeys after the memorial service that we attended that afternoon.

This is the fifth day Hitsugaya has been back, and it took until today for the "everything has changed" thing to actually hit me, and hit me hard.

Also in my defense, I was tired (how many times have I used that excuse now?), a bit out of it (I think that was my excuse for everything that happened when I wasn't tired), and in denial (that was blazingly obvious, but I thought I would mention it anyway).

I've decided that denial is probably the most common human (or shinigami) emotion, but no one will ever be able to prove that due to the definition of denial.

There were obviously other little things which I see now in retrospect, such as Hitsugaya-taichō complimenting me subtly at least four times three days ago, leaving me a present on my desk (To Matsumoto-fukataichō—thank you, written on top of a box of earrings that he somehow knew I wanted), letting both Nanao and Nemu into that office at the same time (believe it or not, we are a disaster when in a room together), and putting off the long and tedious debriefing and reclamation meeting we were supposed to have the day after he got back until the next day and yesterday so that I could have a little more time to straighten things out.

Basically, I am blind. Gods, why me?

So back to what happened today. After The Incident, I did take my much needed nap, and then came back into the office around six to grab a few things and finish up my daily paperwork. Taichō was still there, which was to be expected, but what happened next was not. Approximately what was said:

Taichō: "Matsumoto, have you seen that sunset painting that used to hang behind my desk?"

Me: "Uh. . .you took it down, I think, Taichō."

Taichō: "I thought I might have. . .we will just have to go see the real thing."

Me: ". . ."

Taichō: "Why the hell aren't you saying anything?" (Or something to that effect, although it might have been his expression that said that)

Me: "Ano, I didn't think that required an answer. . ." (I might not have said that. . .)

Taichō: "You were supposed to ask me what I meant." (His face might have said this. . .)

Me: "Che, Taichō, whatever do you mean?"

Taichō: -laugh- "Let's go to dinner, Matsumoto."

Me: -gasp- "But, taichō—"

Taichō: "The work will wait. Let's go eat on the balcony of Kaze no Hime where we can watch the sunset."

At that point I mumbled something like "ok" or "I guess so" or "yes" and bolted. And now I am getting ready for whatever this is going to be with Mr. I One Upped Matsumoto Like Whoa.

Seriously. Why me?

My new autobiography:

Why I Hate Life, by Matsumoto Rangiku:

Hitsugaya Toshiro.

- *-* -

A/N: I hope to update this a lot sooner than last time, but I will need lots of encouragement! Expect Hitsugaya's viewpoint within the next couple chapters!

Love to my readers,

Conterra-hime