When I wrote my original HitsuMatsu story, "Best I Am," it hadn't come out that Ichigo's dad used to be the captain of the Tenth Division. Given that Isshin is one of my favorite side characters, you can imagine how much my brain started spinning around when I realized his connection to my favorite little guys.

I knew I had to work that detail into my new story.

It was non-negotiable.

.

Few things made Toshiro Hitsugaya's youth come out quite like when he was excited about something, and few things excited him more than the prospect of riding a train. He'd been disappointed at first, upon learning that modern trains weren't steam-powered, but he quickly bounced back and found his enthusiasm again. Whether he had the chance to sit, or if he'd be forced to stand, it wouldn't matter. Captain Hitsugaya was a boy again whenever he was within sight of a locomotive.

Ichigo Kurosaki didn't feel the need to ask questions.

"We've all got that thing," he said, "that makes us dumb, just 'cuz it's so great. You don't grow up with my old man and not learn that." Then he shot Matsumoto a searching look. "You . . . knew my old man, didn't you? Used to work with him."

Matsumoto nodded. "Captain Shiba always was . . . excitable." She smiled. "He liked music. It was his favorite way to wile away the hours while the rest of us did his work for him."

Ichigo laughed.

While they waited on the platform for their train to arrive, Hitsugaya hummed a little song to himself; he was almost certainly doing this entirely unconsciously. The same could be said for the happy little dance he was doing.

"Man," Ichigo said. "I dunno if I've ever seen somebody this hyped about transportation."

Matsumoto shrugged. "He says the train is the peak of human ingenuity. He says no form of technology will ever match it in terms of elegance and utility. Every attempt to improve on it has failed on at least one level, if not several."

Ichigo considered this, then he shrugged. "I'm nowhere near smart enough to prove him wrong, so you know what? I'll give him this one." He chuckled. "You guys never fail to get me to look at things from a new angle. Stuff I take for granted. It's helpful, I think. Good to keep my perspective fresh, you know?" He looked self-conscious. "Or whatever. Ishida would say it better."

Matsumoto didn't know if her captain was right; she was, she supposed, lukewarm on trains. Nonetheless, it was always a pleasant experience to see Hitsugaya loosen up and get happy about something. He was always so buttoned-up, focused with razor precision on getting people to take him seriously. Whenever they had cause, or indeed excuse—as was often the case—to visit the living world, Matsumoto looked forward to it; partly because she enjoyed the experience.

But mostly because Hitsugaya did.

"Maybe I'll get him a model train for his birthday," Matsumoto murmured.

"You could get a scale model that's already built," Ichigo said, "something he could display on his desk. Or, you could get one that he has to put together himself. All the little pieces. Might be good for stress, you know? Give him something to do with his hands. It's good to have hobbies like that. It's good to make things."

Matsumoto's face lit up. "Oh? Oh-ho? I think I like that."

"I'll keep an eye out," Ichigo said.

"Please do." Matsumoto watched Hitsugaya nod his head in time to a rhythm that only he could hear; she imagined him at his desk with a little model, just as focused as he always was, on something that didn't involve death, or injury, or swords. Something that didn't ask too much of him.

It was, honestly, a lovely image.

Their train arrived, and Hitsugaya practically skipped onboard.

"Honestly," said Matsumoto, feeling her heart melt in her chest, "what am I going to do with you?"