Plot is happening.
Please forgive me.
.
Hitsugaya settled himself down, to inspect the pool of blood more closely. As he sat on his heels, he looked up at Matsumoto with a furrowed brow and something dark in his eyes. "This is recent," he said, "which means it's not what we were called out to investigate. Whatever this thing is, it's still on the move. And it's wounded."
"Or wounding," Matsumoto suggested.
Hitsugaya hummed as he rose to his full height. He checked his sword in its scabbard, rolled his shoulders. "Well," he said, "you were saying you wanted to do something more practical. I guess this is your chance."
Matsumoto grunted. "I don't think I like this," she said. "It feels . . . off."
"I know what you mean," Hitsugaya murmured, barely moving his lips.
The stories surrounding Captain Zaraki and his history came to mind; how many people he'd killed, how many graveyards he'd filled, before finally setting his sights on Captain Kiganjo. Hitsugaya wondered, as he led his adjutant through the dark alleys of Junrinan, following the trail: was this a conflict between souls? Was it a Hollow? A Quincy? He couldn't help but hope that it was the first, because at least then he would know how to handle the situation. Any Hollow brazen enough to lurk this close to Seireitei would be of a kind that Hitsugaya would never want to face in an area so concentrated with civilians.
As for a Quincy . . .
Well. Best not to consider that at all.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?"
Hitsugaya flinched violently. He turned to look at Matsumoto and closed his eyes for a time, before he said: "I . . . might be."
Matsumoto put a hand on her captain's shoulder and squeezed. "We have enough going on in the present," she said. "Let's not borrow trouble from yesterday, all right?" Hitsugaya sighed again, then nodded. "Good boy. Let's keep moving."
They kept moving.
It was difficult, making out what damage was recent and what damage was longstanding. Rukongai had never been especially clean or sturdy, even its finest districts, and identifying new wounds in the infrastructure was an impossible task.
At least, it would have been impossible for most soul reapers.
Hitsugaya and Matsumoto, having grown up outside the Quiet Court, were easily able to maintain their bearings as they followed this trail of destruction. Neither could tell what it was they were chasing, but they could still chase it. Hitsugaya kept his gaze low to the ground, while Matsumoto watched their backs, hand resting easy on Haineko's handle.
People saw them, quite obviously, but they generally pretended not to.
Most souls knew better than to approach anyone in a Gotei 13 uniform, especially a captain. Even the most desperate thief was unlikely to cause trouble. Matsumoto mostly kept her eyes mobile for the sake of having something to do; she didn't honestly expect anyone to make a move.
The trail led them to an abandoned lot, where they found a second pool of blood that was fresher than the first. Hitsugaya crossed his arms over his chest and eyed it suspiciously.
Matsumoto strolled the perimeter of the lot, unsure what she would find or what she was looking for. She turned to her captain, and frowned when she noticed Hitsugaya had his eyes closed. He wasn't looking anymore; he was listening.
Just in time, she heard it too.