Sometimes I just have something I want someone to say, and I build a whole scene of context just so it'll work as a final line.

This is one of those times.

.

"No, no, I understand that part," Matsumoto was saying, glaring down at the stack of papers on her desk while she twirled a brush pen around the fingers of her right hand. "I fully understand and embrace that I need to know the strengths and weaknesses of each division such that I'm prepared to take up whatever role Captain-Commander Kyoraku requires of me." She spoke with the cadence of someone who'd heard these words entirely too many times. "That all makes sense."

"Then, the issue is . . . ?" Hitsugaya prompted.

"Why is there a shikai quiz? In what universe would I ever need to know the names and commands for a random soldier's sword? Is knowing their ability not enough?" Matsumoto jabbed at her captain with her pen. "Do you need to know that my sword's name is Haineko, or that I tell her to growl? Or do you need to know that I can make my blade into ash and use the extended reach of that ash to cut anything it touches?"

Hitsugaya hummed. "I don't suppose I can argue with that."

"Do I need to know that your sword is Hyorinmaru, and that you tell him to reign over the frozen heavens? Or is it enough for me to know you can control ice and water with it? Yes, yes, I remember the chain. You hush."

Hitsugaya snapped his mouth shut. He smiled. "All right, all right. You've made your point."

Matsumoto rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. "I will never learn how Captain Kurotsuchi's sword works. I refuse. On principle. I don't care who tells me I need to know this; it's not happening. I'm failing this question on purpose." She glared at her captain suspiciously. "Did somebody recommend this nonsense to management? Try to make learning fun or whatever?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, Rangiku," Hitsugaya said. "This would be one of those times that the paperwork you hate so much would be rather useful, don't you think?"

Matsumoto's face went blank. "If I find out you suggested this, just to get me to go sifting through old records with you, I am setting your bed on fire."

Hitsugaya laughed, but he shook his head. "I can assure you: I had nothing to do with this quiz." He, too, held a brush pen in his hand; in his case, though, it was more like a royal scepter than a weapon. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to be done with this conversation; Matsumoto might have thought to encourage Hitsugaya to join her in complaining to the Captain-Commander, but she was fully ready to believe that Hitsugaya was already done. He was just sitting there, waiting for her.

Probably to make sure she stayed on task.

Matsumoto ground her teeth. "How long do I have to turn this thing in?"

"End of the week."

She set the sheaf of paper aside and set down her pen in disgust. "I'm done for the day," she declared. "I'm not dancing on strings. Nope. I already have that presentation to give on that updated calisthenics training, and it's warm today, and I'm going to sweat, and it's going to be disgusting, and I hate it, and . . ."

Hitsugaya's lips rose in a dark little smile. "You know," he said, "that roughneck from the Eleventh is going to be in the yard with us today." Matsumoto turned to face him again. "I'm not saying you ought to choose him to demonstrate Kurotsuchi's new regimen, but . . . I'm sure he'd love to show you just how gifted he is. He comes from a combat division, after all."

Matsumoto quirked an eyebrow. "Did you say you've already gone through Captain Kurotsuchi's drills?"

"I did. I have."

"Didn't you say they were hellish? A punishment unfit for even the lowest of demons?"

"I did. They are."

Matsumoto's mood brightened. "Why, Captain. I didn't know you were so devious."

Hitsugaya winked. "They say the lowest circle of Hell is covered in ice, you know."