It Takes Time

By: Le tired

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its characters, blah blah blah, etc.

Rated: M.

Author's Notes: All right, now that the angst has been introduced, we can go back to some slice-of-life chapters of HitsuMatsu living the domestic life together! It might feel abrupt, but I think in real life, none of us have the time to just mope and stew all day. Life comes at ya fast. We feel happy, then we feel sad, then we're angry, then we regroup and we're happy again. So, for anyone who might be wondering if I've forgotten what I just wrote in the last chapter, I thought I'd go ahead and say it's intentional.

Lots of fun stuff for me in this chapter. There's a giant nod to another one of my favorite omakes where Matsumoto takes photos of Hitsugaya. She said she took them unawares but looking at the photos, other than the one where he's sleeping (yes I overanalyze even the freaking omakes because I'm obsessed), I feel like it's near impossible for her to get them without him noticing (none of the SWA's sneak attacks for their fundraising attempt really worked either), so I hypothesized he more likely gave up on trying to stop her and just ignored it, and Matsumoto went ahead and exaggerated her photo-taking skills because let's face it, she has a flair for the dramatic. Also, is it just me or did anyone else notice Hitsugaya's sexy real world outfit? It seems really out of character for him to choose such flashy clothes but Matsumoto, on the other hand, is definitely all about fashion, so I have this weird theory that she might have actually gotten the clothes for him.

Lastly, I just want to say, my OCCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Canon Disorder) is really going nuts with Kubo Tite having shown Hitsugaya as a third seat first. Now my fic is non-canon, even though I tried so haaaard ;_;. Oh well, serves me right for taking so freaking long. And now there's this whole new story arc that I only vaguely know about because Bleach got licensed while I was recuperating and now I can't read scanlations and catch up. All I know is they're freaking ZOMBIES now. Wut.

Oh and double lastly, thanks again to all reviewers. Haha I honestly couldn't believe I was hearing from some of you again, but it was great and I missed you guys! ^_^ There's been a lot of feedback while I was AWOL so I apologize if it takes me a while to finish replying to them all!

Royal blueKitsune: Aww thank you for the many hugs and well wishes! This might sound sappy, but it's really heartwarming to know there's kind, caring people like you out there. And your comment conveyed your support perfectly, so thank you again! *hugs back* I will do my best to keep up the HitsuMatsu love! And I'm glad you liked the Shinigami Zukan reference in the earlier chapter. Those Bleach omakes are just hilarious, aren't they?

BlackDesires: Thank you! I agree, HitsuMatsu should be canon. There are just too many hints! :P I've heard some rumors that there'll be more Bleach anime in 2015, so my inner fangirl is super excited too!

happypocky: Lol yeah that's pretty spot on! Hitsugaya and Matsumoto are too much like an old couple for him to freak out over a little klutziness :D.

Prince of Winter Dragons: Hey, it's great to see you and another one of your reviews again! Thank you for your sympathy. I'm also glad to be back! I'm glad I was able to convey both Hitsu and Matsu's individual insecurities and internal conflicts in the writing. And yeah, I think it'd be very out of character for Matsumoto to resent Momo. Momo's made some really bad decisions but it basically comes down to her being young and impressionable. And I'm pretty sure Aizen did his fair share of grooming her. So, it's just a sad situation, and I like to think Matsumoto is mature enough to see that.

sagitgirlth: Thank you, it feels great to be back and churning out more HitsuMatsu goodness! I definitely have every intention of continuing, so thanks again for not giving up on me!

Kohryu: Haha I loved that Shinigami Zukan. I wished they did more, but since they didn't, I had to at least make my own little tribute!

Lascivious Lassitudes: Alas, I'm so sorry that there were no updates for so long! But I never gave up! I always planned to return! Your "flying saucers" blow my mind. You should write Kubo Tite about them – they sound exactly like something Orihime would make! And it's eerily how well your thoughts matched mine about Matsumoto's cooking, which happens to be touched on in this chapter!

YurixXxMori: Thanks so much! It's a pleasure writing HitsuMatsu because they're two of my favorite characters too!

Countess Millarca: Thank you! I worry a lot about characterization and it's where I spend the most time agonizing and trying to perfect the dialogue, so it's always reassuring to hear you think they sound in-character. Hahahaha you're right, I'm basically writing "Bleach: Behind the Curtains, A Shinigami's Everyday Love Life". Animators of Bleach, I'm looking at you to actually make this series a reality! :P

esther: Haha no worries. When I first came back, I had to read over everything again to remember what the heck I was doing. I was like, 'How have I used so many words and not finished this story?!'. But I hope it's an enjoyable re-reading!

Aduuuh: Will do! Thanks for reviewing!

IvorySea: Aww thank you for such a nice review! Hahaha oh god the smut. I'm glad you like it, I still groan when I read or write those passages. Hopefully, whatever I'm doing right, I keep doing!

kandita: Wooowww thanks for all the reviews! It was really fun and insightful seeing all your reactions to each individual chapter. Hahaha yeah regarding the GinRan and HitsuHina dynamics, I've deliberately left it very ambiguous and very organic in that I'm not trying to rush or force any one pairing. Again, basing a lot of my characterization around what I've learned in real life about real people, it seems people don't always know what they want or what they feel. Feelings change; people fall in and out of love, and it's a lot about discovering who you really are and what you're really looking for in a partner. Plus it's possible to love more than one person at a time, and to feel different sorts of love. Fanfics tend to stress the importance of romantic love, but the love of a family member or close friend shouldn't be overlooked or diminished either. Lastly, I admit to loving the technique of the "unreliable narrator" (aww yeah thank you high school English class :P), so keep in mind what Hitsugaya and Matsumoto think individually about themselves and how the other person feels, for example, might not necessarily be the truth, or what I, the omnipresent writer, intend as their real emotions. Sooo, long story short, hahaha, I'm sorry for all the unanswered questions. Things are probably gonna stay muddled and people will get hurt, but then they'll also find a way to heal. I hope that doesn't scare you off and that you'll remain a happy reader! Thanks again!

Chapter 29

In a rare turn of events, when he awoke the following morning, Toshirou was surprised to see Matsumoto had woken before him and even put her bed away. More than surprised. He looked around for signs of a struggle that would suggest Matsumoto had been abducted by arrancars (very neat arrancars who cared about folding and stacking bedsheets). Yes, an abduction made zero sense, and yet he could wrap his mind more readily around it than the concept of Matsumoto just getting up and being productive.

No signs, no blood. It looked Matsumoto really was just up and about. Would miracles never cease to happen. A sound came from the kitchen down the hall.

Toshirou walked in, cautiously.

"Ah, morning, taichou!" Matsumoto turned around from where she was standing in front of the stove and wiggled her fingers at him in a goofy wave meant to be welcoming, but just made him feel all the more wary. "Breakfast will be ready in just a moment!"

"Breakfast?" Why? Matsumoto hated cooking. She did make unexpectedly good tea, and liked to prepare afternoon snacks for them on occasion (though really, he'd prefer she just did her paperwork).

"Go on and sit, taichou! It'll just be a minute longer!" Matsumoto returned her attention to the stove and a teflon pan resting on one of its heaters where something aromatic sizzled.

He sat down in the nearest chair without another word. If Matsumoto had decided to try cooking again, heaven knows why, he wasn't about to do anything that would distract her for even a millisecond. He readied his mind and link to Hyourinmaru in case another fire was about to start.

Wonder of wonders, no fire did. True to her word, Matsumoto finished without incident after another minute or so, and skipped happily over to the table to dump the contents of her pan onto the plate set out before him. She filled her own plate across the table from him, set the pan back on the stove, and sat down, looking at her captain eagerly.

"Well, taichou? Do you like it?" She was practically wriggling in her seat in anticipation.

He looked down at his plate with a pile of steaming yellow on it. "Is this…scrambled eggs?"

"All right, taichou! You got it on the first try! So…do you like it? Try it, try it!"

He poked at the eggs with his fork hesitantly. They looked palatable enough. He still had no idea what was going on, why they were doing even doing this. "Why scrambled eggs?"

"Weeelll, I wasn't about to try any dish where I had to chop things up after how I cut my fingers last night, and they say protein is important for getting your energy for the morning, so this seemed like a perfect dish!" Matsumoto watched him with the focus of a laser. "Taichouu, you haven't tried it yet."

"…" He pushed a forkful into his mouth. And nearly gagged.

Matsumoto continued to beam at him out of the corner of his peripheral vision even as it blurred up with involuntary tears. He forced himself to swallow, then downed his glass of water in one go.

"Matsumoto." He cleared his throat. "Have you tasted these yourself?"

"Not yet, taichou. I wanted you to have the first bite!" She paused, finally taking note of his expression. "Are they…no good?"

"That's…one way to put it." He grimaced and poured himself another glass. The strong aftertaste lingered in his mouth. "You put way too much salt on these."

"Salt? I didn't use any salt." Matsumoto looked lost. "I did add some sugar, though."

"…did your sugar come from the glass container on the counter top there?"

"Of course!"

"…that's the salt."

"Ehhhh? No way!"

"The sugar is inside that cupboard above the stove."

"That's amazing, taichou! How did you know?" Matsumoto looked amazed, but not particularly contrite for the assailment his tastebuds had just undergone. "I just assumed the white stuff had to be sugar because well, who uses salt to cook anyway! Mouu it's so hard to cook in someone else's kitchen! It's not my fault, taichou! The containers were switched, that's why I got confused! Otherwise, it'd have been delicious!"

"Salt or sugar, the amount was absolutely too much!" It was only eight in the morning, and he could already feel his self-control slipping precariously away. Maybe it was better when Matsumoto slept in. At least he had a few hours of peace to himself to take care of work. "Why did you try to make breakfast anyway, Matsumoto? I told you, it's not necessary! You could have been working on some reports instead of wasting your time on all this!"

"But taichou…haven't you heard the saying, 'growing children need to eat'?"

"…" He gripped his fork so tightly it snapped, a difficult task given it was made of metal, and the two halves bounced off his hand onto the floor where they landed in a ringing clatter.

"Ah! Taichou, I was joking, joking!" Matsumoto squealed while backing away and waving her hands high in the air in surrender. "But you know, breakfast really is good for you!"

He stood up, knocking his chair back against the floor in his forcefulness. "I'm going to get ready. Our meeting with the rest of the team is in an hour, so we leave in twenty minutes. You'd better be ready too, Matsumoto, or so help me."

"Y-yes sir! Absolutely sir!"

Like it was going to be that easy. Toshirou glared at her, arms crossed, waiting.

"Only…"

There it was. "Only?" he prompted as nastily as he could manage.

"…Only…I really need breakfast, I'm just soooo hungry, taichou! And if I did use salt instead, my eggs are no good either, taichou." She gave him with a 'well what can you do?' look, knowing exactly what he could do and all but suggesting with her wide, faux innocent eyes that he do it if he wanted a successful, timely departure.

"…"

"…"

"…ALL RIGHT. I'll make some eggs for you. DROWNED in sugar. Just hurry up and change!"

"Yes sir! Thank you, Hitsugaya-taichou!" She dashed out of the room while Toshirou muttered obscenities on his way over to the refrigerator.

Toshirou came back from the kitchen to see that Matsumoto was still in the bathroom readying herself. The faucet was running intermittently, and he heard the unscrewing and popping open of various caps that he could only assume belonged to some mystery cosmetic appliances he didn't care to get acquainted with. "Matsumoto, will you hurry up?" He checked a wall clock for the time. They actually weren't doing too badly. He'd left a huge safety margin for them (well really, for Matsumoto). The park was only five to ten minutes away. Even so, he knew he had to keep Matsumoto on schedule.

Pacing impatiently around the room, he noticed a new set of clothes lying neatly out on one of Inoue's lower tables. That Matsumoto…she hasn't bothered changing yet?! But wait. They were too small to be Matsumoto's, and upon closer examination they looked to be of a man's cut. Staring down at them, a worrisome realization dawned on him. "Matsumoto, what are these clothes?"

His lieutenant immediately popped into the room. "Ne, ne, aren't they cool, taichou?! I saw them while I was shopping—ah, scouting! Totally scouting! And I thought they'd look so great on you, taichou, I just had to buy them! Don't I have the best taste?!"

"You…bought clothes for me?" He held them up. A black long-sleeved shirt with a strange design of string and beads along the front and a pair of ripped blue jeans. "You know I have my own clothes, Matsumoto. I'm wearing them right now."

"Yeah, but they're such boring stuff, taichou! A polo shirt and slacks? And loafers? You dress like an old man, taichou! You'll look so much cooler in these, I guarantee it!"

She was probably right. Toshirou didn't know the first thing about fashion and didn't care to. So what if he dressed like an old man? Who was he trying to impress? A thought occurred to him and he glared at the clothes held out in front of him. "So this is where our mission-allotted funds are going towards."

"It's vitally important to the mission that we look our parts, taichou!" Matsumoto argued back, circling him like a bubbly, enthusiastic shark. "You'll stick out if you wear such tasteless clothes, so do it for the mission!"

He was pretty sure she was exaggerating again, but this was a debate he was rapidly losing interest in. Clothes were clothes, and the more he resisted, the longer they'd be here arguing instead of planning with the team. "Fine." The fabric at least felt durable and of decent quality. He frowned at the rips in the jeans, which Matsumoto assured were supposed to be there as part of the so-called 'cool factor'. When he finished, Matsumoto burst into excited applause and squealing.

"Taichoouu, you look so cool! You look like you could be in a boy band! Or an actor! I knew it! These clothes totally show off your physique! And your cute, tight rear!"

"What?!" He was ashamed that he took the bait and pressed himself and his aforementioned rear against the closest wall. Matsumoto had a truly unique way of making you feel violated with just her words.

A flash of light. Click. Whirr!

Toshirou blinked. "What was that?" His eyes readjusted then zeroed in with some faint horror at the camera newly manifested in Matsumoto's hands. "Matsumoto…"

"Whaaaat, taichou? It's for my next report for Shuuhei! The Seireitei Communication magazine is still ongoing, you know. Just because we're in the human world for now doesn't mean we can shirk our duties in contributing to it! Especially when we have good stuff like this!" She waved the camera as if it were a prize-containing treasure chest.

"Contribution is entirely voluntary, it's not part of our duties! And now that we're in the human world, monitoring Aizen and the arrancar…yes, we are totally exempt from contributing!"

Matsumoto looked at him, surprised, one arm still suspended in the air holding the camera. "Taichou, you're not going to continue your Beautiful Crystal series?"

"No!"

"But…it was so popular! Way more popular than mine, and mine was pretty darn good!" She kept staring at him, as if he'd started spouting an alien language. "Your designs and carvings were so beautiful."

"And? That's hardly important given the other tasks we have ahead of us."

Toshirou couldn't understand why this was a such big deal to her. Back in the day, he'd gone ahead and thrown together some articles and pictures for the hell of it because he had enjoyed creating his sculptures and the captains were encouraged to contribute to the magazine. Sure, it had been an entertaining side project of sorts. And Tousen, before he'd turned traitor, had told him once that the column was doing very well. But none of that really meant anything to him. Honestly, he rarely even read Seireitei Communication. Some articles were interesting and educational, such as Abarai's Let's Do Shikai special or Izuru's haikus, but the majority was wacky nonsense like Kyoraku's romance novel or that column by Iba and Madarame about manly silence (he couldn't begin to fathom what that was supposed to mean).

It was a good way for Shinigami to express themselves and advance themselves artistically, but given Aizen's war and Soul Society's sad state of preparation for it, Toshirou thought his mental energies were better served elsewhere now.

Evidently not for Matsumoto. "You made the prettiest ice flowers," she was saying, like he'd asked for her feedback. "Ah! Do you remember those daffodils? That was a masterpiece! The stems were so delicate, and the petals so thin and yet so beautifully arranged, the whole division could hardly believe our rough and insensitive taichou could have made them!"

She was provoking him with her usual teases, but he thought he saw a real sorrow in Matsumoto's eyes. A lost look, asking him why he'd abandoned his art. And damn her if he didn't feel like it was actually some great loss.

He didn't have to explain himself to her. There was always the option to just turn away and let her think whatever she wanted—that he was too busy or too selfish perhaps to expend extra energy for the column.

He sighed. "Matsumoto, I can't. Those ice sculptures were created from the heart, mine and Hyourinmaru's. The ice follows what I see in my mind, and right now…all I can see is Aizen. I can of course still create whatever shapes I want, but the process wouldn't be the same. The…energy, the creativity behind it…is gone."

It was a minor shock to hear himself voicing these truths, but maybe it was for the best if he went ahead and admitted it. It was probably the closest he'd ever get to conceding how emotionally he'd been affected by recent events, and as uncomfortable as it was to share, he thought it was something Matsumoto should know. "It's not that I don't want to do the column, Matsumoto. I can't. Not right now."

Matsumoto, for her part, had fallen silent and still. At length, she came over to stand next to him. She didn't rest her hand on his shoulder or touch him in any way to comfort him, but the closeness was enough to convey her sympathy. "I'm sorry for pushing you, taichou."

"It's fine." He didn't like looking up at her at these times, when he knew her eyes were filled with raw emotion offering love and support, so he looked to one side at nothing in particular, trying to gather his thoughts and shake off the awkwardness he felt. "Are we ready to leave yet?"

Matsumoto, as always, caught his deliberate shift in mood. She perked up at once. "Almost, taichou! Lemme just finish those eggs you made! We can't let your hard work go to waste after all!" She left speedily for the kitchen.

How long does it take to scarf down some scrambled eggs? Toshirou didn't think it could be more than five minutes. When the clock hit ten, he stalked into the kitchen. "Matsumoto, what's the hold up?"

"Mm, taichou!" Matsumoto looked up, a spoon still stuck in her mouth. Two empty plates sat before her, one he recognized as containing the eggs he made and the second looked like the one for the original batch Matsumoto had made for him.

"Did you…did you eat both plates of eggs?" He was aghast.

"Yep! I thought it was too much of a waste otherwise. Also," Matsumoto replied happily, mouth still open with half-chewed egg, oblivious to her captain's shock, "your eggs were so delicious, taichou, I had to see how bad mine were. But the weird thing is, I think my eggs taste pretty good too! So now I'm finishing the last plate!"

"…what?"

"Sure they're salty, but a little salt never hurt anybody! It's better than if they were totally bland. Bold flavors are the best!" As he gaped, Matsumoto scooped up another mouthful of egg and stuck it in her mouth with visible relish. Toshirou felt his tongue burn in memory. But recalling Matsumoto's appreciation for Inoue's cooking, he was beginning to surmise that Matsumoto's own tastebuds had probably died off years ago from whatever other horrific foods she sustained herself on. "On the other hand, I'm not sure I like how crunchy mine are, whereareas yours were so nice and soft, taichou! Mmm, I guess it's the shells, I dropped a few pieces in there."

That struck a nerve. He remembered the unpleasant grittiness in his mouth as he'd chewed and fought his gag reflex. "Next time, if you're aware, fish them out!"

"Ohh, so you knew, taichou?"

"Of course I knew! It's not like I can't tell when my teeth are biting down on something hard that doesn't belong."

"Well why didn't you tell me, taichou?" Matsumoto's expression turned sly, the corners of her mouth curving upwards like a cat's. She pushed her newly finished plate aside, and leaned further across the table towards him. "Hoooh, don't tell me…it was to spare my feelings?"

"I wasn't aware I was supposed to give you a full critique for your cooking. The salt was plenty bad enough."

"Aww you don't have to hold back for me, taichou." Matsumoto got up out of her seat and half-leaned, half-sat back on the long edge of the kitchen table, head tilted in a coy come-hither way. "Ne, taichou, I should thank you for the breakfast." Her voice was low and throaty now, a complete 180 from the whiny girlish voice she'd used seconds ago.

"That's not necessary." Toshirou ignored her suggestive tone. Maybe if he appeared sufficiently detached, he could quash Matsumoto's enthusiasm before she really got revved up.

"Aw come on, taichou. We still have tons of time before we really have to leave for the meeting." Damn, she noticed that, did she?

"I deliberately set aside that time because I knew you'd try something like this. You always have to create problems and drama when there isn't any—"

"You set time aside especially for this, taichou?" Matsumoto's voice was all demure innocence, but her eyes turned even more shifty with glee. "My, taichou, I hope I haven't kept you waiting." In one fluid, lazy motion, as if she were in the mere act of stretching, she'd lifted her top off, and let it fall languidly in a soft heap onto the floor.

Nope, he was too late. Matsumoto was at full throttle. "It was a precautionary measure against your undesired nonsense, not for it." Why in the seven circles of hell was he even explaining? Like she didn't know exactly what he meant.

Matsumoto turned her hips to one side to further accentuate the dip of her waist and the rounded curves of her upper thighs. She was wearing a lacy snow-white bra that barely concealed half of her ample bosom. He could see the swell of her breasts rise and fall in time with her breaths. "Matsumoto…"

"We have tiiime, taichou," was all his lieutenant purred back. She looked up at him through her long lashes. "Oh please?"

Toshirou looked at the clock. He looked at Matsumoto, splayed enticingly across the table and reaching around her back with one hand to unclasp her bra. He looked at the clock again. Then back at Matsumoto. Back at the clock. Back at Matsumoto.