Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, but if I did Hinamori would have cut her hair by now, she would be healthy again, she would be fighting in the war, Aizen would be dead, Hitsugaya would tell everyone that he uses hair spray to make his hair look like that… want me to keep going?

Before you start reading, I just want to say I'M SO SORRY! I haven't uploaded in sooo long and I have, like, 3 more chapters to type up before this fanfic is officially done…

Truth is, I only got a couple of reviews so I thought no one was reading my story, but then my friend told me that I can see how many people have read my story by clicking "Stats". insert sweat drop

Lots of people have read my stories it seems, but there are so few reviews that I assume no one likes the story or everyone just chooses to read then leave. Please review! It lets me know that people want me to write more and that's when I start posting up chapters.

Thanks for letting me say this and now please enjoy reading the third chapter of Her Temper :D

How had it come to this?

How could it have come to this?

It all started with the ryoka, coming into Seireitei, plans unknown.

Her captain was always warm and kind, generosity pouring out of his soul. But when the ryoka's presence was made known he began to wear a frown about the company instead of his usual peaceful smile, welcoming everyone and anyone for a polite conversation.

That was her beloved captain: always smiling, always warm, and always kind.

She loved him, but not in the way most people assumed. It was never a high school crush of a lovesick teenaged girl. No, but more of a loyal-to-the-very-end type of love. To her it would always be a lieutenant-to-a-captain relationship, for she never would impose her feelings upon Aizen-taicho. For him, her feelings ran deeper than any mouthful of words could possibly begin to describe, admiration and true happiness was the core of it.

He was her base of support, her root of motivation.

And he was dead.

She felt the cold dread of realization seep to the very tips of her toes. Her chest felt strained from the reality of what was staring right at her. Disbelief, dread, and pain, oh, above all, pain, clogged her throat. Her control was slowly letting go, she knew her reiatsu was beginning to skyrocket to unstable levels.

It didn't matter.

Her most admired captain had been taken from her. Never again would he pat her head in reassurance. Never again would he ask her for an update on the company's productivity. Never again would he ask her to retrieve the paper work from the other squads.

And never again would he need her.

That was what hurt most of all. That was what morphed her tortured emotions into the tornado of deadly anger and blame. It was his fault. How dare he! Ichimaru Gin, Captain of third squad. The only person Toshiro ever warned her to be wary of.

The source of her spirit power turned from a gradually growing flame into a wild and out of control fire in a split second.

Charging at a captain full on without assessing the situation properly would have meant her death. Even with a back bone stemming from her infamous temper, she would have been killed instantly. She was only a lieutenant, nowhere near as strong or experienced as a captain. But at that moment it did not matter. Propelled by the image of her dead captain, nothing could have prevented her from rushing into her inevitable death. That temper of hers, she realized in the subconscious of her mind, was going to lead her to her end.

And yet, she was lucky.

There was no other way to say it, for Izuru-kun, classmate and dear friend, had blocked her brutal swing from Tobiume with his own soul slayer, Wabisuke.

His face was thunder. As he scolded her coldly for her behavior she felt confusion begin to cloud her thoughts. It was Izuru, her friend. Why? Why was he stopping her from avenging her captain? Didn't he know his captain was the one who murdered her own? They're friends…aren't they?

So why, she thought numbly, are we fighting each other?

The core of her fury was slowly being penetrated with desperation and confusion. And yet, still, she asked him to move, to let her avenge her captain by killing his. She knew what she asked was crazy and illogical, but at the moment everything just seemed too surreal for her to handle. Just as she and Izuru attempted to clash swords for a second more deadly attack he appeared.

Blocking both fierce strikes easily as though their released zanpakutos were skinny wooden sticks, he barked orders without hesitation. Ordering for her and Izuru to be locked away at once.

Toshiro Hitsugaya, youngest captain ever and her childhood friend from so long ago. It was like a bucket of ice water to the face. Her temper materialized into the lake of sadness for her deceased captain. Just one appearance, one look at his mature and penetrating teal orbs and she was back in control.

Ever since she was young he always did have that effect on her. Whether it is frustration of a trivial task or stress from exams, he was always able to make her take a step back and see sense for how things truly are. And for that, she would always harbor eternal gratefulness for how fortunate she was to have met him.

Not too long after being arrested and held back by Rangiku-san and Iba-kun she sat in her own company's jail cell. Contemplating the last words of her beloved captain from a letter received out of the compassion of Toshiro, she couldn't help the feeling of hurt in her gut. Disbelief turned to excuses, which formed into a hardened resolve.

There was no excuse for the actions she committed afterwards.

The words of her captain stoked her avenging demeanor back into full force and she was off running again, desperate if not totally lost as to why her world was turning upside down. But the strangest thing of all was what she did. Everything she said, everything she made happen with her own two hands, everything… was simply not her.

She would never use kido to knock out an innocent shinigami and, by gods, escape her own cell willingly. And yet, to find the said murderer of her captain, she did.

She would never lift her sword against her Shiro-chan. And yet, with one command from her dead captain, she did.

She would never follow another person while hiding her reiatsu so as not to be noticed. And yet, to discover the truth of her captain's death, she did.

All these split second decisions based solely on avenging her captain led her to now.

On the floor, dying.

Blood, her blood, ran across the wood floor in a deep scarlet tide, the consequence for trusting her captain to the very end.

Only moments ago, her undead captain had stabbed her with his own sword. It was impossible to believe, and yet she witnessed it herself. She was beginning to learn that she being only slightly confused that day was an understatement.

It hurt. It felt like her soul was being ripped to shreds. Everything she believed, everything she understood, everything she loved. Everything she was. It was all being crumpled together like a scrap piece of paper waiting to be thrown out.

How did this start? How could I be so out of line? How could I attack my own friends?! How is Aizen-taicho still alive when I saw him dead with my own eyes?

The questions darted through her waning conscious mind.

How did Ichimaru-taicho know about Aizen-taicho's existence? Why is Hitsugaya-kun fighting for me after I tried to kill him?

This question brought more than just tears, it brought guilt, and that hurt more than the fatal wound to her body.

How could Aizen-taicho cut down Hitsugaya-kun so quickly, so cruelly? How could Aizen-taicho attempt to…kill…me…?

The tears leaked over, spilling in thin rivulets down her now pale cheeks. As she looked to the darkening sky she felt her spiritual power begin to slip away. With one last whimper she laid her gradually darkening eyes on her snowy haired protector. The blood gushed out of his torso and ran along the cracks in the floorboards to her stationary body. His warm red blood slowly mixed with her own.

He wasn't Aizen's killer. He was protecting her against harm and even went so far as to release his bankai, his ultimate release. It was her fault.

He was dying, bleeding, in pain because of her. After all his guidance, support and love she gave him only pain and his death.

Her dying thought swirled and disappeared into the cold air such as her body's life mixed with her protector's:

How had it come to this?

Author's Note: I didn't really enjoy writing this chapter… it's kinda gloomy and depressing, but it served its purpose in this fanfic. But don't worry! The other chapters are better, in my opinion, since it brings a slice of HitsuHina and Momo-centric love with it!

Once again, please review. I won't upload the other chapters until I get at least a few reviews. This way I know for sure that I'm not wasting my time slaving over how to end this fanfic.

Thank you again! and to you flamers: go to hell.

atinarox