It Takes Time
By: Le tired
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its characters, blah blah blah, etc.
Rated: M.
Author's Notes: Holy sheeeeet I've hit 30+ chapters. Why am I not done with this?! And the crazy thing is, I have ideas for another multi-chapter fic. So bad. Anyway, continuing on from the last chapter, this is another humorous one where I explore and probably abuse the juxtaposition of flashbacks. And I wrote more naughty bits. It's no Fifty Shades of Grey, but I still feel so embarrassed writing it haha. And again, my apologies if it's bad. I'm doing the best I can!
LikeWoah: Hooray! I appreciate the favoriting, and thanks for the review as well! I am doing my best to continue and finish this darn thing for sure!
Latenightreader: GinRan is another really fun pairing to examine for me, though of course, if we're sticking to canon, it's hard to write much about them. It's definitely sad because you can just see all the lost potential :(. Haha honestly, I struggle with the same problem with Momo. Honestly, she's a poorly fleshed out character who's only real purpose is to serve as Object of AngstTM for Hitsugaya. All her interactions with the other characters, save for at the beginning when she was friends with Kira and Renji, are really bland to me. Even when she talks to Hitsugaya, there's no substance. It's just "Shiro-chan this, Shiro-chan that, I still like Aizen, get enraged and protect me, blah blah blah". You'd think as friends they'd have more shit to talk about. Also it's weird because Kubo Tite is pretty good about writing strong female characters, and it's like he totally forgot about Momo. Welp, maybe he's planning something awesome for her later in the new arc.
Anarky'sMeanBeast: Thank you! I'm sorry I couldn't update in a timely fashion for the last two years, but if you're still out there, I hope you can continue reading now!
CurryBread07: Hehe thank you. The "MATSUMOTO!" is kind of a staple. What kind of fan would I be if I didn't throw it in every now and then? ;)
shattered petal: Yay welcome to the fandom! Yeah, I felt like this couple was really slapped in my face. So much chemistry! And it's great to hear someone else is contributing stories! Go HitsuMatsu!
AmunRa: Thank you for the high praise! As someone who is also fairly picky about fanfics, it's great to hear my story was engaging enough for you! :D
Kitakana: Haha no need to thank me for updating, it's something I wish I could have done a lot sooner! Thank YOU for sticking with me :P. I'm always afraid of going overboard with angst and turning it all soap opera-y, but I guess I had to write it someday. I'm glad you liked it!
MicheleUchiha: Thank you, I love it too ^_^.
Chapter 30
It had been decided that the team would meet at least once a week. The original idea that they were on a simple surveillance mission and to serve as possible deterrence for arrancar appearances had all but been cast aside. Aizen and his arrancar were dead set on invading and destroying both the living and spirit worlds. That had been made abundantly clear by their attack the first night. The arrancar had no intention of hiding from them, even though the information captains Kyoraku and Ukitake had unearthed in the libraries would suggest they weren't ready for a true confrontation themselves. No, in fact, they appeared to thirst for another chance at conflict.
They were now the first line of defense in perhaps the deadliest battle of all time. War was coming, as steadily and inexorably as the turning of the earth, and they were the first line of defense. Even Madarame and Ayasegawa who like their bell-adorned captain, scorned planning and strategizing against opponents, agreed without another word to Toshirou's meetings.
The meetings would be held in a park within walking distance from all of their chosen domiciles. And in a small victory for Toshirou, they'd agreed to forego the school uniforms (why they tried to pass as students to begin with would forever elude him). They still stuck out pretty badly in his mind, but perhaps in more casual clothing, some of them could at least pass for adults going about their private lives. He'd briefly considered meeting at one of their temporary homes, but Abarai was with Uruhara, who he didn't feel he could fully trust, Madarame and Ayasegawa sounded like they were with two pretty dysfunctional humans, and he and Matsumoto were…well. It wasn't that he was hiding anything from them - only a complete and utter idiot wouldn't have realized they were living together all alone in Inoue's apartment by now. But it seemed inappropriate to shove the fact in their faces. And so, the park had really seemed the best idea.
That was a mistake. If they'd just all come over to Inoue's home, there wouldn't have been any need for him and Matsumoto to make a mad dash out the door five minutes past the appointed time, still readjusting their clothes.
"OI! You guys are late," Madarame shouted in his ganster drawl as Toshirou and Matsumoto ran up. He was looking at Matsumoto when he spoke because one, Madarame still respected rank and power and wouldn't have dared censure a captain, and two, he believed the blame fell squarely on Matsumoto's shoulders…which, to be fair, was usually the case.
Just not this time. Toshirou opened his mouth to admit his own failings…but what explanation could he offer?
He was kissing Matsumoto again. Or maybe she was kissing him. Nipping at him - his mouth, his chin, his ear, her breath hot against his skin, and her voice drawing him deeper into her. "Taichou…mm…more…touch me,ah, more…!"
"Only by a few minutes. It's called being fashionably late." Matsumoto bore Madarame's accusation like a champ. Then again, rebukes rolled off her like water on a duck's back. "And you eleventh division bozos are too impatient as it is! You could stand to work on your waiting endurance! Not like my taichou!" She smiled sunnily at him. "Hitsugaya-taichou is the epitome of patience and serenity!"
"Taichou!" Matsumoto gasped into his mouth as he bodily lifted her onto the table and pushed her down. He didn't bother unclasping her bra. His hands slipped rather forcefully under the wire, pushing it up her collarbone, to fondle and rub the soft warm flesh it had once held in place. It was a lovely garment and Matsumoto looked fetching in it but at the moment, it was in the way. In the very very very distant part of his mind, he hoped he hadn't damaged it.
"No, I...I was irresponsible too this time," he muttered, examining the pebbles on the sidewalk with a fierce studiousness.
"Haah?" Madarame looked over at Toshirou, who managed to jerk his head up from the ground long enough to shoot him what he hoped was a composed glance suggesting that there had been some unfortunate yet simple and harmless mistake that required no further delving into. "I wasn't expecting that. Matsumoto is always late, yeah, but Hitsugaya-taichou?"
"It was my mistake, and I apologize. Now can we focus on why we're actually all gathered here? The arrancars—"
"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou is usually very responsible," Ayasegawa cut in with an affected frown. "And organized. Something must have happened. It was you, wasn't it, Rangiku-san? Just come out and say it. It's ugly to let your taichou cover for you after all."
"Well, I can't say I didn't have a hand in it." Matsumoto threw Toshirou a conspiratorial wink.
"Taichou, let me touch you." In one deft maneuver, Matsumoto had sat up, unzipped his jeans and coaxed her hand inside to wrap around him. The shock and surge of pleasure shot through him and he bit down hard on her breast. Matsumoto's other hand that remained pressed against his upper back grabbed at the fabric of his shirt in reflex and pulled him down lower yet to her as she made a low moaning sound from the back of her throat.
"See? I knew it. You're such a pain, Matsumoto. To constantly put up with the likes of you…Hitsugaya-taichou must be a fucking saint."
"It's true. He yells at Rangiku-san from time to time, but I know if it were me, I'm pretty sure I'd have done something far more drastic by now." Ayasegawa nodded his head in solemn respect. "It's impressive, taichou, you must have an infinite amount of self-control."
He knew he was releasing slightly more reiatsu than necessary. It just tended to flow out when emotions were high, and they were…quite high at the moment. There was a warning creaking sound, then a loud splintering CRACK! as the table gave under them, the ends flying up as it broke right down the middle. Matsumoto gave a startled yelp and she squeezed him hard in the hand she still had down his pants so that he shuddered, but his mind cleared enough that he was able to catch her in one arm and brace for the fall with his other. They were unhurt, obviously, but a quick survey of the wooden pieces lying around them on the tiled floor told him the table was done for.
"…can we not talk about this?"
"Taichou, you're used to dealing with Matsumoto, but you forget, she made us wait too. We're owed an explanation!" Madarame crossed his arms and scowled.
Freaking eleventh division. They had to contend everything.
"I'm telling you to drop it—"
"Oh fine, if you insist." Matsumoto shrugged. "It's quite simple. Since we're in the human world and me and Hitsugaya-taichou are living together and all, I thought it'd be fun to play housewife!"
"What?" It was a good thing Madarame and Ayasegawa were so bewildered by Matsumoto's explanation that they took no notice of Toshirou's own exclamation along with theirs. Was that what Matsumoto had been up to this morning? Playing housewife?
"It was suuuper fun, though I had to get up early to surprise him!" Matsumoto continued, either unaware or uncaring of the three dumbfounded mens' expressions. "I was all ready to greet him in the morning, and I chose and put out his clothes. You see what he's wearing, right? Mm-hm, that's my amazing fashion sense you see there! Pretty cool, don't you think?"
"No…not really…"
"And then there was the delicious breakfast I made him! He didn't like it for whatever silly reason, though, just like he doesn't seem to appreciate his stylish new clothes." Matsumoto pouted. When it appeared no outpouring of condolences would be coming from her captain or the others, she continued. "His excuse was that it was too salty, but I tried it later, and it was just fine! So he was just making a big deal out of nothing, as usual!"
Madarame and Ayasegawa had a slightly stunned look on their faces as Matsumoto continued her drivel. Toshirou was pretty sure they regretted going down this conversational path. Then again, they were the ones who insisted on an explanation, so he didn't really feel bad for them.
"Of course, this meant that he had no breakfast, which is so unhealthy!" Matsumoto blathered on, as if anyone had a vested interest in Toshirou's daily dietary intake. "So! Since a fukutaichou's duties include making sure their captain is healthy and properly nourished, I took it upon myself to find a suitable alternative."
Toshirou suddenly thought he saw where this was going. "Matsumoto—"
"And what was that?" Madarame asked, unthinkingly, given the proud pause Matsumoto had taken.
"Matsumoto, don't you say it—"
"Me, of course." Matsumoto placed one well-manicured hand on her chest for emphasis.
An awkward silence fell. Madarame's bald head was glowing pink and he was peering at a crop of oak trees to his left much the same way Toshirou had been focusing on the ground. Ayasegawa looked up into the sky as if to gauge the weather and scuffed at the dirt with one shoe.
"I said, 'Just eat me, taichou!', and guess what? He gobbled me right up!" Matsumoto concluded her tawdry tale. She took a breath to recover from the talking, then looked expectantly at her companions as if they were to burst into applause and encore over her storytelling abilities. Instead, the three men were all standing stiffly apart, avoiding eye contact and looking off into separate distances. No one spoke.
"Hmm." Matsumoto reached into a back pocket and brought out a camera. Flash. Click click click.
"What the hell are you taking photos for, woman!?" Madarame screeched, roused from his pathos by the snapshots. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"
"It seemed a good opportunity since none of you were paying attention," Matsumoto retorted, shielding the camera from Madarame's wild gestures with her body. "Don't worry, it's not like anyone would want to see your ugly mug. The photos were all of Hitsugaya-taichou. He's the only photogenic one of you lot. Besides me, of course. But I've already sent in all the self-portraits I had."
"…"
"…I'm not photogenic!?" Ayasegawa squawked in dismay, but was utterly ignored.
"So," Matsumoto stuffed the camera back where she kept it and brought her hands together in an imperious clap that made them all look at her, startled. "What have we learned?"
"…what?"
"You don't ask a lady why she is late. It's rude and nosy, and only men with absolutely no class would pry like that. You ask stupid questions, you're going to get stupid answers you never wanted to hear. Now, if you must know," she continued, "what really happened was that I knocked over one of my nail polishes, and it spilled everywhere. Hitsugaya-taichou said we couldn't leave everything a mess since we were guests so he made me clean it all up before we left, and that's why we were late. BUT. In the end, it's really none of your business, is it?" She leaned towards them, her face dark and menacing, and her voice filled with unspoken threats of violence.
"Uh…no…I guess not." Madarame looked dazed, a victim of the classic Matsumoto proclamation that had little to no actual evidence or even normal sense to back up her statements, but was uttered with such intensity that you sort of just bowed to her way of thinking.
"Damn straight it's not! Now apologize."
"…sorry."
"Good boys!" Matsumoto straightened back up and smiled. "So, what new information do we have on the arrancars? And where's Renji? Still at Uruhara's?"
"Yeah, he said he had questions he needed answered. And he's also training there…"
Madarame and Ayasegawa happily launched into their reports, and the meeting got into full swing. Toshirou at last allowed himself to relax and let out a surreptitious breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in until now. Well, another ten to fifteen minutes had gone by wasted thanks to Matsumoto's fantastic mix of half-truths and outright lies, but they were finally on their way.
Over the eleventh division officers' talking, he caught Matsumoto's eye. She winked again at him, her gaze mirthful and bright as the clear blue sky above them.
Toshirou sighed. And there was still Inoue's table to fix after this.