Disclaimer: I wouldn't be here if I did
Warnings: possible spoilers, oocness, breach of grammar security rule number something, something, something, mature themes, implied rape, noncon and general BL-ness that you can ignore by skipping the italicized parts in the beginning.
A.C.: ah... -laughs- my break ends tomorrow, 29 days of summer fun... when I wasn't literally melting under the heat. Thanks for the reviews everyone, they really make my day xD
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Arexia- yeah grammar. I do try and catch them but I'm only human the last time I checked. Thus miserably fallible...
Windlily- Thanks. The vizard part will come up when Ichigo re-gathers whatever courage he had to visit the vizards again. think I scared him off for good though -winces- ehh so sit tight. x3
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"Ichimaru... Gin."
The former captain of the third division was dressed in a winter coat, out of place in the torpid weather but in a way as if it was entirely the weather's fault that it did not conform to his state of dress. The high -and wooly- collar hid most of the man's face save for a gleam of pearly white teeth that stood out against everything else.
Hitsugaya's breathing quickened, the harsh gasps coming out in curls of fine mist. Perhaps Gin had dressed appropriately for the occasion after all. The former captain sheathed his zanpakuto and stepped forward. Hitsugaya put a foot back. The boy-captain could dimly hear Ichigo's shouts over the pained squeals of the arrancar Gin had brought with him. He fumbled with a dispenser in his hand, a one with a ruined lion's head that had met its untimely death through Matsumoto's hair irons. Gin closed in and slammed him against the wall. The teen's head snapped backwards with a loud crack. Wrists scraping against the uneven concrete, the dispenser clattered uselessly to the ground.
"Nuh, uh, uh." Gin cooed nastily. The collar on his neck –the one he had forgotten of late- throbbed hotly over his skin. The cold air intensified around them. A quirk of the eyebrows was the only reaction the fox-faced man gave. A hand came up and almost tenderly brushed against the side of Hitsugaya's ashen face. The hand was unnaturally smooth, cool and leathery to touch. It wasn't a hand at all.
A glove, intended to force a shinigami out of his or her body.
Without warning Gin plunged his fist into the young captain's stomach.
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"What would you have done?"
'Hmm?'
The dark haired shinigami sat up and shook the web of frost from his hair.
"What would you have done," Hitsugaya repeated, slower this time. "If you had been me."
The man shrugged and looked ahead. Hitsugaya was inclined to answer for him, "You would have fought like before. Because you believed, because you knew yourself to be in the right." Green eyes stared down at him, unreadable. "Sorry." He finished faintly. The man placed a hand over the snowy locks and thought better of it. The hand slid down his back and Hitsugaya shivered, but not from the cold, never from the cold.
'Not all fighting involves your fists.'
"I suppose you're going to tell me it's what's on the inside that counts?"
'Well... yeah? All of us fight to protect something. For me it was my division, my family, my honor. And you...' the man smiled and wrapped an arm around Hitsugaya's shoulders. The white-haired captain wiggled in irritation but did not seek to throw the arm off of his body. 'You need to lighten up a bit. Live a little... captain.'
"You of all people should know that it's too late for that."
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Ichimaru dug in deeper and Hitsugaya's heartbeat slowed to their normal pace. A sigh blossomed out of his mouth as Gin stopped rummaging through his innards and began to pull his hand back out. 'Stop...' the silver-haired man looked into the boy's eyes, an eerie grin fixed upon his face as the gloved arm was slowly exposed to the sunlight.
"So..." Ichimaru started conversationally. The brief pause was punctuated by a lengthy scream from a dying arrancar. "Ya awake now?" Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed and Gin's wrist slipped into view. "Good boy."
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Abarai Renji could hear the bells tolling. He couldn't honestly say that he was too broken up about it. Throwing Rangiku a discreet look sideways he determined that a. she wasn't talking and b. that meant she was really angry this time. Throwing his arms back ecstatically to cross them behind his head, he resisted the urge to whistle as he followed the buxom lieutenant of the tenth division down the street. Grass wilted beneath her shadow and people scattered left and right at her steady march. Life was sweet sometimes, especially when you were a friend of one Matsumoto Rangiku.
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The first intrusion by Ichimaru had been degrading but a necessary evil. This time it was unwarranted, unneeded, and vile. He could feel every single thing those long fingers did as they wove into his soul. Ripples upon ripples of sensations pulsed through his entire body and he gasped out loud when the leather-clad hand bumped against a particularly tender spot. When Gin had finally grasped something solid inside his soul, Hitsugaya kicked out instinctively and was rewarded with a knee in his stomach. He choked; his nerves screaming as he nearly bit his tongue in two at the sheer agony of the blow.
Abruptly, Gin withdrew his hands hissing as he tore his glove off. His hand was red and the knuckles were bleeding as he playfully blew down at them. Hitsugaya spat weakly at his feet and sat down on the pavement. The concrete wall was hot and grazed his face. He found that he no longer cared if there were any civilians within the vicinity. He just wanted to...
::Die::
He muttered thickly to himself trying to get up. Beside him, Gin had an unreadable expression on his face. A pale hand was reaching out to touch the teenager when the man's feet became frozen to the spot, literally. He could have sworn the young captain's eyes were glowing, brighter and stronger than ever before. He didn't have much time to ponder on the subject as Ichigo's next attack decapitated the remaining arrancar and flew in a contorted arch towards him. The black energy blast bounced off of Shinsou and dug into the ground throwing up dust. Gin's eyes were open as if silently regarding the two young shinigami in a way he hadn't before. Ichigo stood by Hitsugaya's side leaning heavily on Zangetsu. Gin commented softly,
"Dun' forget, ya ain't alone."
With a mocking salute, the crimson eyes became veiled once more and the former captain disappeared into thin air.
Hitsugaya collapsed.
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Hitsugaya fell to his knees, eyes wide open as he stared petrified at the man before him. The other shinigami looked down at him, his black hair plastered to the side of his face and neck; his jaws oddly set as he swung his zanpakuto behind him and stuck the blades into the soft mud. Rain drops peppered them from the heavens accompanied by the quick flash of lightning that rumbled like a dragon's roar in the distance. They had to be quick, time was growing short and Hitsugaya had so much to learn.
'Come on little Toushiro...' murmured the dark-haired death god as rainwater streaked down his hair. 'Surely my host isn't this weak as to lose to himself...' but they had been sparring nonstop over the span of time it had taken Captain Unohana to close up the young captain's wounds and transport him to the fourth division. They were tiring, both the memory and the soul.
Hitsugaya shook and wiped his forehead.
Failure to reawaken Hyourinmaru not only meant a failure to himself and those around him, it also meant a certain death. A fate too late for the youngest captain of Gotei 13. Hitsugaya repeated it like a mantra in his head and braced himself.
'Show us that you are worthy; show us that you deserve the title of captain!' the man's wrist snapped forward and thrust where the teen had been just moments before. He stepped sideways as Hitsugaya appeared where the man had been standing mere seconds before. Smiling grimly, he snagged the younger shinigami's collar and pulled him to his stomach. The white-haired captain squawked indignantly and flipped onto his back. The man quickly kneeled and pinned the teen down in the mud with his knees as Hyourinmaru's empty blade slid askew against his upper arm. The dark-haired shinigami felt blood mingling with rain as it seeped into the bandaging around his left arm. Bit by bit, the threads in the red-and-white cloth gave away until the entire armband fell apart and landed by Hitsugaya's ear. The man laughed lightly, his zanpakuto diffusing his water-like reiatsu and slowly returning to its sealed form as it sunk into the yielding earth. 'First blood, I'm impressed. I guess I must be rustier than I thought.' He cocked his neck questioningly when the other didn't respond. 'Toushiro...?'
::Get away from him.::
A quick squeeze around the hilt of his zanpakuto revealed that it had reversed its sealing and was released once more, this time without his command. He stared down at his ward suddenly afraid of what he might find. Hitsugaya's face was lax and strangely calm but his eyes caught him, the familiar pools of oceanic green beckoned him. And he could not help but feel that his memories... his entire being had lied to him.
They were similar, essentially the same person, but they could not have been any more different.
"Why are you doing this?!" Hitsugaya shrieked, jumping forward and pinning the man against the ground. The other shinigami did little more than to stare back through his thick black lashes. And it was the understanding, the whole-hearted agreement in those green orbs that made the young captain break down. "Why?" Hitsugaya clawed at his face, his neck, any exposed flesh to be had. In moments, the bloody gouges were covered in a silver film then disappeared altogether. "Why? There is still time, I could have. I know I would have." Hitsugaya dragged himself off of the man, fingers digging into the sour earth. His body quivered once more then stilled. "You should have let me die..."
The man got up, mud clinging onto the back of his black kimono. A hand hovered over the muddy white hair, over the thin shoulders. Rain poured down, the sound maddening. It was terrifying. In that moment he realized reincarnation did not make a man out of his other. Fragments of memories from a distant past did not make a fighter out of the suddenly frail looking teen. At the end of the day, captain or not, Hitsugaya Toushiro was a child. No matter how much he had denied it, Hitsugaya Toushiro needed to be a child.
In a fit of deja vu the man pulled Hitsugaya into an embrace and held him close.
"For you, for us. Because I was stupid and got myself killed and now you're involved. I have to get you out of this mess. You're not dead yet Hitsugaya, you're alive. God knows you shouldn't be here. But Hyourinmaru willing you will get through this."
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"Well?" Aizen turned from window. More like a hole, Gin thought, a seemingly symmetrical hole in the wall, one of many looking over the walls of Las Noches. "Did you find it?" Gin grinned as Ulquiorra glided out of the shadows and bowed at the two shinigami. The arrancar whispered something quickly into the brunette former captain's ears and fixed the silver-haired man with an unreadable look.
Figuring that he had dragged it out long enough Gin answered,
"No."
Aizen smiled.
"Found somethin' interestin' though." Gin waved a hand lazily. His right hand was bandaged, flecked with spots of blood. The finger tips were pale, perhaps signs of poor circulation. Rummaging though the inner pockets of his outer robe, he held out a glove. It was wet with more than just the silver-haired man's blood. It was nearly torn in half at the knuckles suggesting that whatever had latched onto it didn't want to let go. Aizen carefully took the leathery material and turned it over in his hand. He raised an eyebrow –teeth marks, all very sharp.
"Well..." Aizen said finally, tossing the glove up lightly into the air and letting it burn. The ashes showered down on the dry stone before being blown out by the stagnant wind at the windows. For one moment Gin thought –Rangiku- and lowered his head. Aizen's mind seemed elsewhere, a rare moment of inattention in such a dangerous place. "It seems as though you are no longer alone Ulquiorra."
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"Kurosaki, what are you doing?"
The curt voice cut through the humid air.
"Shh!" Kurosaki Ichigo hissed holding his finger to his lip. Seconds trickled by as he kept a close watch on the steady pulse then he realized just who had spoken to him. With a surprised shout, the substitute shinigami jumped backwards as the other teen sat up.
Hitsugaya began to massage his aching temples, trying to locate which of the three Kurosaki was the real one. Deciding that it wasn't worth the trouble he tried to stand up and instantly regretted it. Ichigo immediately gripped the captain's shoulders as a hand shot out at the last minute to grab onto the wall. The enervated look on Hitsugaya's face was immediately replaced by a more common, irritable one as Ichigo let go and held his hand out in placating manner.
"What is this? Molest a captain day?"
"I was looking for a pulse." Ichigo finished lamely, lowering his hands.
"There are other ways to look for a pulse other than slamming your big head down on someone's chest."
"Yeah well you just collapsed ok?! What was I supposed to do?"
Letting out a lengthy, aggravated growl Hitsugaya barked,
"Report!"
Ichigo blinked.
Hitsugaya blushed.
The air became cooler by several degrees.
"Uhh, well, I took care of the arrancar but Ichimaru got away." Hitsugaya snorted at the memory of the silver-haired man. Ichigo peered into the young captain's face curiously. He was instantly waved off for the effort. "What's with you and sir creepy anyways?"
"Not of your concern."
Ichigo rolled his eyes
"Come on, I just saved your ass." A mortified look struck Hitsugaya. Then he realized that Ichigo couldn't have possibly known how close he had come to an answer. "oy Toushiro?"
"Shut up Kurosaki."
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Having spent the rest of the way in silence, the two shinigami were unprepared for the cacophony that filled their ears as soon as they put a foot into Urahara Shouten. There were metallic rings that sounded suspiciously like pots being thrown on the ground mixed in with worried shouts and cheers as one of those said pots seemingly it its mark.
Sure enough there was a yelp and an 'oww,' followed by a string of words attempting to calm someone.
Curious, Ichigo craned his head and peeked around the corner. He was drawn backwards as Hitsugaya tugged him down and held a hand over the blonde's mouth. There was a hiss indicating that he be quiet and silence as the white-haired shinigami listened in on the conversation.
"Ran!" a surprised yelp from Abarai Renji, the duo from the eleventh division was strangely absent. Rukia made a dry comment of how the blonde shopkeeper had deserved the blow.
"You were a captain once," Matsumoto spat angrily as she resisted the urge to stuff her pumps down the outcast's throat. "How could you not notice...!"
The speed in which Hitsugaya had left Ichigo astounded him. The strawberry-blonde flailed his arms in midair before losing his battle with gravity and crashed against the wall. Everyone jumped at the dull thud and Matsumoto looked around guiltily as Hitsugaya entered the room, his face drawn in an odd grimace.
"Matsumoto..." his voice was tired, not even angry, devoid of the usual patronizing tone present when dealing with the buxom lieutenant. The lieutenant of the tenth division dropped down to her knees, somehow avoiding flashing the room's inhabitants with amazing skill. "Enough." He then turned towards Urahara, who by then had sufficiently recovered from the other blonde's assault and was happily fanning himself while massaging the impressive bump on his head. Hitsugaya's lips quirked slightly when he saw the dented tea kettle on the floor. "I apologize; I see that my lieutenant is still upset from the events of last night." Matsumoto flinched at the cool tone. Hitsugaya gave Urahara a curt bow. The blonde man hid a smile by tugging his hat forward to hide his face. Suppressing an urge to shudder Hitsugaya turned towards the door and murmured softly, "come Matsumoto." The blonde stood, a disapproving look on her face as she gave the blonde salesman a wilting glare.
Moments after their departure Ichigo spoke up from the hallway,
"What was that about?"