Neither Bleach nor its characters belong to me.

Enjoy

"Fight fire with fire."-Traditional Proverb

(Or, in this case, I guess, fight ice with ice.)

At five Karin got up, unable to stay in bed any longer. She felt sluggish, lethargic, and totally useless; she needed some exercise, she needed her muscles to burn and ache--to dull the pains everywhere else. She travelled to the outskirts of town where--in soul form--she could practice without disruption. She had discovered a small field completely surrounded by trees--a perfect training arena--and had fallen in love.

But when she arrived, she was not alone. Someone's powerful reiatsu was fluctuating wildly. As she neared, through the trees she could see a black form flying about at record speeds, a Zanpakuto emitting powerful, chilly blasts with a range long enough to allow frost to cling to her hair. She hid behind the trunk of a large tree and watched the man train. When she trained alone, she never felt like she worked hard enough; but Hitsugaya made it look effortless, working every muscle. She watched him work, watched the muscles in his back flex, his arms slice and cut with precision. Having removed his shirts, his defined, pronounced muscles were obvious.

Gorgeous, she found herself thinking before she could catch herself.

And yet she couldn't look away.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked right at her. She tried to dart behind the tree, but the effort was futile.

Sheathing his weapon, he said, "I know you're there. No need to hide."

She emerged from behind the trees. "I wasn't trying to hide. Or intrude," she stated, offering an excuse before he could pry for one. "This is where I train."

He nodded. "I can see why," he said. He slipped his kosode back on--much to her private dismay--and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "It's quiet, isolated."

She nodded and stood there wordlessly.

He swept out his arm. "Don't let my presence hinder you. By all means: start your training."

She frowned. She didn't really want an audience.

"Besides, I'm interested to see your level of skill," he said, one white eyebrow raised.

This pissed her off even more--he wanted to test her abilities?--but she unsheathed her weapon anyway. He didn't say anything as she began, or for the first twenty minutes; he just stood there, watching her, arms folded frigidly across his chest.

For a while, it was like she was in her own world. Everything around her faded--including the distracting captain--and it was just her and her sword. The grip of the hilt was rough in her hands even though she'd developed tough callouses. The metal of the blade reflected in the bright sun. As she moved, she looked at her weapon. She had always thought it was ugly: the blade was a faded, dull grey, not shiny or bright; the hilt was a dirty brown, plain and unadorned. She admired her brother's for its sheer size and overwhelming presence; she fell in love with Rukia's for its magnificent beauty and understated grandeur. But hers was ordinary, muted, and bare.

Much like her.

She sighed inwardly and continued to move.

She was just about to swing her arms down in an offensive attack when, in a flash, he was at her side. His cold hand clasped her wrist. "Your grip is wrong," he said gruffly, repositioning her hold on the hilt. "Here."

She looked at him as he leaned in close to her. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek, smell his sweaty musk.

She swung down, feeling an intense influx of strength. He stepped back but interrupted her practice four more times--correcting her, helping her--before she stopped.

Trying not to pant, she planted one hand on her hip and said, "Fight me."

He snorted in disbelief, shaking his head. "I don't think so."

"I'll get better if I have an opponent who will challenge me," she argued.

"You will not be 'challenged' if you fight a Gotei 13 captain. You will be defeated."

She replied by bringing her sword down on him; quicker than her eyes could see, he had pulled out his sword in defense. His eyes narrowed. They said, "You'll regret this," but he didn't say a word.

He pushed her back with her forearms and the force sent her reeling back ten meters. Regaining her grip, she attacked again.

"Too slow," he said, flash-stepping out of her sight.

She spun around to block his next attack, but she landed the attack first; he merely blocked, totally unfazed. She felt a bone in her wrist shatter, and she broke away. She flash-stepped in response, trying to get him at a better angle, but he always saw her coming.

Their swords collided again. "Don't hold back," she spat through clenched teeth.

He shoved her back with such force, she flew back fifteen meters. He didn't even stumble.

They danced for another twenty minutes. She found herself on the defense and barely able to get one attack in the whole time. Her endurance was failing, her breathing was becoming more labored, and her step faltered; fighting him was not like sparring with Yoruichi or Ichigo. Seeing his opportunity, he swept in. She found herself on her back with his blade at her throat. It was the first and only time he had attacked her full on.

"Don't let pride be your downfall," he said sternly before removing the cold metal from her jugular and backing away. "You're not ready."

She pushed away his proffered hand and righted herself, trying to mend her wounded pride. He merely turned away.

"In your attempt, you could have at least used Shikai," he said, sheathing his sword. "You need to learn to adjust the degree of your fight to suit your opponent. Zanjutsu is an art; you need to master every aspect of it. You should have figured that out by now."

"Shikai?" she questioned.

He looked back at her incredulously. "Yes, Shikai. Your sword was in the sealed state the entire fight," he bit.

She merely blinked in response.

"You-you mean you haven't achieved Shikai yet?"

"'Achieved?' What's Shikai?"

He frowned at her, as if she'd grown a second head. "What do Urahara and Yoruichi tell you? Nothing?"

"I don't know what your talking about," she said exasperatedly, sitting in the grass. She gasped as she put weight on her hand; she had forgotten about the break it suffered countering one of his blows--well, his very tough block of her blow. His stunning eyes shot down to her wrist.

He sat down next to her. "Here," he said, extending his hand. She automatically placed her hand in his, palm up. She watched, wide-eyed, as he put his other hand over her forearm and a green glow appeared from his fingertips.

"What's that?" she asked, inquisitive.

Again, he looked at her, as if seeing if she was serious or not. He shook his head in disbelief. "It's called Kido. It's a harnessing of spirit energy; right now I'm using it to facilitate healing. I'm not from Division 4, but you'll never know it was broken."

She nodded, but was still confused. "I've seen Tessai-san do something like that, but I never knew exactly what it was," she admitted quietly.

Something flickered in his eyes at her mention of Tessai, and she filed that fact away in her mind to ask about later. She hated feeling like everyone was keeping something--everything--from her.

She also noticed he did not apologize for breaking her wrist, a fact which made her smile a little; at least he didn't hold back, didn't think she was irreparable, fragile--like her brother, father, Urahara, and Yoruichi did, to name a few. His proximity wasn't helping her groggy mind much; his touch on her arm, his captivating scent, his bare, muscular chest, revealed by his open kosode...Stop it, Karin! "Shikai? Kido? How much is there that I don't know about?"

He didn't even shrug.

"What is Shikai?" she pressed insistently.

He finished healing her and scooted away slightly. "Yoruichi should be the one to explain it to you."

She flexed her hand as he spoke. It was as good as new. "But she hasn't. Please?"

"Why hasn't she told you?" he asked, frustrated, his white brows furrowing.

"Yoruichi says knowing will impede the natural progression of my powers. She says it will make me lose focus."

He ran a hand down his face. "Focus," he reiterated. Then he sighed. "Shikai...is a form of your Zanpakuto, its second release form. Achieving Shikai indicates control of a Zanpakuto, and no shinigami will get far without mastering it."

"How do you attain it?" she asked with wonder.

"First, you must learn the name of your Zanpakuto."

Crestfallen, she slumped slightly.

"From your look, I assume you have yet to learn its name," he stated.

"No...but I'm close," she offered defensively.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he stood. "I need to get going," he said, almost coldly.

She tried to hide her frown. "All right." She stood and started to practice again.

He threw his captain's haori over his shoulder, but turned back to her before he disappeared into the growing darkness. "Don't push yourself too hard," he said, sounding semi-caring.

She couldn't fight the grin that pulled at her cheeks. "Thanks Toshiro."

He frowned. "It's Hitsugaya-taicho." And he was gone.

Funny. Seems as though that's the way we always part.

She collapsed to her knees the minute she could no longer feel his reiatsu. His very presence racked her nerves. She didn't understand why.

Hitsugaya headed back into town and arrived at the Kurosaki Clinic, where Isshin was letting him hide out during the day. He didn't feel like socializing at Urahara's and since Matsumoto was back in Soul Society--probably not doing the paperwork he'd instructed her to do--staying at Inoue Orihime's was out of the question. He was just surprised Karin hadn't sensed him already.

Maybe she's more like her brother in that way. He frowned. Perfect.

He jumped in the shower and relished the cold water running over his face, his skin. The sparring match hadn't necessarily worked up a sweat, but showering gave him an opportunity to think in private.

Damn her. He couldn't believe he'd let her talk him into fighting her. At least she had been relatively novice. Still...

He was also damning himself. I was too hard on her. I can't believe I broke her wrist! And she didn't even grimace at the pain. Damn Kurosaki pride.

Yoruichi and Urahara might be two of the most capable, respected, and feared fighters of all Soul Society, but their choosing to not tell Karin everything was holding her back in her training. She's going to end up in trouble. With her amount reiatsu and the level that it's at, she should be far more advanced...

But it's not my place, he convinced himself. Not anymore.

He emerged from the bathroom in the back of the clinic to find the aforementioned man restocking a cabinet with basic medical supplies. "Good practice?" he inquired, not turning around.

Hitsugaya shrugged, leaning his Zanpakuto against the wall and reclining on one of the cots. "Standard," was his only reply.

Isshin chuckled. "And my daughter? You didn't beat her too badly, I hope."

Hitsugaya bristled. "I'd never harm her," he stated coldly, defensively.

The older man turned to reveal his knowing smirk. "'Again,' you mean? 'I'd never harm her again.'"

Hitsugaya's scowl deepened.

"She doesn't remember, so I suppose it doesn't matter to her. But I do," Isshin said, leaning casually against the wall. "I remember too well."

Hitsugaya said nothing.

Isshin shrugged and turned back to his work.

Hitsugaya sat silently for a while, then quietly asked, sounding more like a child than he had in a long time, "Will she ever remember?"

In that moment, Isshin once again saw his young subordinate, not the cold grown man he liked people to see him as. "I guess it depends. For her sake, I hope she does; she feels incomplete, lost. But I fear that what she will remember will rattle her more than being in her current fog. Her powers are not easy to bear."

Hitsugaya tensed and sat up. "You know the power of her Zanpakuto? How's that possible? She hasn't even manifested it herself."

"Much in the same way you as a child displayed your...icy endowment, Karin, too, exhibited her unique capabilities. She, of course, didn't realize what they were at the time, but they also contributed to the accident that removed them from her reach. I believe it was her mind's defense mechanism: blocking everything out and just shutting down."

"She's not getting the proper training," mumbled Hitsugaya. "And she's not very aware, even of the capabilities she possesses. It doesn't appear that Urahara and Yoruichi have taught her much."

"I asked them to instruct Karin while telling her as little as possible. She doesn't need an information overload that leads to a mental breakdown because she learned too much too soon. She's tough, but there are things even she can't handle, not all at once anyway. Now, she is more lost and confused and closer to the truth than ever. Her Zanpakuto will help her...when they're both ready."

Hitsugaya's scowl deepened. "What are her powers?"

Isshin smirked. "Now that wouldn't be fair: you knowing before Karin. But I do have a request to make of you."

The younger man waited for the entreaty.

"When my son returns from his 'mission,' I want you to take Karin to Soul Society with you."

"What?" Hitsugaya bit out disbelievingly.

"You heard me," he said, dead serious for once. "Karin needs the training and instructing and stability that she cannot get here in the world of the living; you said so yourself. No matter how badly I want her here with me, with her family, and no matter how good Yoruichi and Urahara's training is, she needs what Soul Society will give her: consistency, stability, structure. She's not her brother."

But Hitsugaya was obstinate. "No. Fortunately for me, I'm not your subordinate. I'm not going to 'take' her anywhere. That's not in my job description."

"Are you speaking as a captain with a duty to fulfill or as a man with a heart to guard?" he asked astutely. Before he could respond, however, Isshin waved him off. "No matter. This doesn't need your approval. I only asked to be polite. You should be getting a hell butterfly any minute now with your instructions."

Hitsugaya bristled. Instructions? "How'd you manage that?"

"Despite my past infractions, my role in the war got me back into the good graces of some important people in Soul Society--relatively, at least. They have accepted Karin into the Academy on the stipulation that she is supervised and does not publicize the fact that she is not shinigami."

Hitsugaya paused, soaking this information in. Then his anger rose. "So I'm to be her babysitter?"

Isshin smirked knowingly and shrugged. "Only if you chose to see it that way."

"Where is she to stay? She has no ties to Seireitei except for her brother--but I wouldn't broadcast the fact that she's related to him if I was her. And I cannot monitor her at all times; I have responsibilities that need to be taken care of. She's not shinigami, she does not belong in Soul Society!" Hitsugaya argued obdurately, grasping at straws. His voice revealed the emotions he was trying to hide, but if it got him out of this menial, greatly unwarranted situation that would affect his emotional state more than he'd ever let on, he was okay with it.

"But she's my daughter," Isshin declared sternly, all ever-present silliness and scatterbrained pretenses gone. "You want to risk her safety? Because if she stays here any longer, when her spirit pressure becomes too great for her to control, and she still has not even mastered Shikai, she will become a target for Hollows. I am not willing to put her in jeopardy, not to satisfy my fatherly need to protect her or to coddle your stupid, pigheaded pride!"

Hitsugaya stared at the man. He hadn't seen this side of him in a long time. He swallowed, guilt washing over him. Was he willing to risk Karin's safety?

No.

Isshin composed himself and, with narrowed eyes, said, "I'm trusting you with my daughter, a piece of my very heart. Don't let me down, Hitsugaya-taicho."

Hitsugaya held the man's gaze, then nodded firmly. Despite his initial misgivings, he knew he'd risk his very life to protect Karin, even if she never knew how much she meant--had meant, he corrected--to him.

Isshin turned back to his work, satisfied. Then he said, "Oh, about your earlier question--about where Karin's to stay: I spoke with your vice-captain and she was happy to work it all out with me. She's already set up a place for Karin in the 10th Division barracks. That will make keeping your eye on her a little easier. I told her you'd thank her when you got back."

Biting his tongue and fanning back his anger, Hitsugaya made a mental note to create a year's worth of paperwork for Matsumoto, a fitting "thank you."

Woah! Made Isshin pretty serious for a while there, didn't I? Ichigo had to get his temper from someone, right?