I think it's purely because of "Best I Am" that I've got this idea in my head that Shunsui Kyoraku and Toshiro Hitsugaya would get along. I don't think there's any real indication in canon that this is true. I don't think they interact very much at all.

But that's never stopped me before, and it's not going to stop me now.

.

Toshiro Hitsugaya never looked younger, smaller, more vulnerable, than when he was sleeping; this was doubly true when he was napping in the shade of his favorite tree. This usually happened if he was caught up in some important project that kept him up for days at a time, and he would resolve to meditate in order to clear his head. Hitsugaya would say he was centering himself, ensuring that he kept himself on task, but it never seemed to work that way. Within moments, without fail, he would go from meditation to unconsciousness.

No one in the Tenth Division ever bothered the captain when he was under the tree.

It was a known quantity among the lot of them.

One day, Hitsugaya woke from his "meditation" to find Captain-Commander Shunsui Kyoraku settled nearby, drinking casually, waiting with no sense of hurry for his subordinate to wake.

"Good afternoon, Captain Hitsugaya," Kyoraku said, lifting up his jug in a little salute.

Hitsugaya shot up to a proper seated position, his back going as stiff as a washing pole. "Captain-Commander! How . . . how long have you been here?! Why . . . what . . . ?"

"Why didn't I wake you?" Kyoraku asked lightly. He laughed. "It's all right. Don't twist yourself in knots." He sipped from his saucer and glanced up at the boughs hovering over them like an awning. "This is a good place," he mused. "Peaceful. Quiet. It's good, I think, for us to remind ourselves that we fight for more than honor. We fight to protect places like this, so people can enjoy them." He turned his attention to Hitsugaya again, settling on him with his good eye. "Do other members of your division rest in the shade of this tree?"

"I think so," Hitsugaya said. "They used to say they avoided it. Thought of it as my tree. But it's not. I certainly didn't plant it, and it never felt right to claim it as my own."

Kyoraku nodded. "Good," he said. "Good man."

"Rumor's going around," Hitsugaya said, "that you're looking at Rukia Kuchiki for the Thirteenth captaincy."

Kyoraku nodded again. "Correct," he said. "She's the only proper choice."

". . . I think Ukitake would appreciate that."

Kyoraku's weathered face softened as he smiled, and he set his eye on the horizon. "I certainly hope so," he said.

Hitsugaya sat there, silent for a time. Then he cleared his throat and said: "We'll rebuild. You know that, right? It's what we're here for. It's why we exist." When Kyoraku looked at him, Hitsugaya continued: "Don't compare yourself to Yamamoto. You aren't Yamamoto, and you won't ever be Yamamoto. You're you. You were chosen to lead this Court for a reason. Trust in it. We do."

Kyoraku watched his comrade silently for a time.

Then he smiled again, lifted up his saucer, and drank.

"I was chosen," Kyoraku murmured. "You know . . . I keep wondering if there was some kind of mistake. If I was chosen as a joke. Some sinister machination, even. Is Sosuke Aizen responsible for this too? Can the 46 be trusted after all that's happened? I mean, look at them. They chose me to succeed the greatest soul reaper who ever picked up a sword. How could any of us trust them, after that?"

"The problem with old men," Hitsugaya said, pointedly, "is that they get set in their ways. They lose sight of what could be, in pursuit of protecting what has been. That's no way to build a future. It's one of the surest ways to fail, actually." He flashed a little grin, like he was offering a challenge. "They could have stood to pick someone younger, but I suppose I can forgive them one more old man. For tradition's sake."

Kyoraku regarded Hitsugaya with surprise and something like confusion, then he tossed back his head and started laughing.

After a while longer, Hitsugaya said: "What brought you to me today, Kyoraku?"

The captain-commander drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly.

". . . This," he said.