Drama! Intrigue! I have no idea what's going on!
No one ever accused me of being a mystery writer. I'm trying my best here, but I make no guarantees.
.
Matsumoto was outside the barracks, sitting in the sun, and was just popping the cork on a new bottle when Hitsugaya found her; he looked irate, but unsurprised. She waved happily, patted the grass next to her, and let out a happy little noise when her captain did, in fact, join her.
"So?" she asked. "I hear you went to the Twelfth to follow up on our little friend. What did Akon tell you? Since I'm sure Captain Kurotsuchi pretended not to know you exist." She poured into a saucer and sipped dramatically.
Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. Then his face went grim and he said: "They never received a prisoner. I checked with Soi Fong. Nobody in the Nest matching his description, either. He's . . . gone. Lost in the ether." Hitsugaya sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He jabbed a finger at his vice-captain. "This is why paperwork is necessary," he went on. "Thanks to proper protocol, I know whose custody he was in when we lost track of him."
"Hmmm?" Matsumoto poured another saucer. "Do tell, Professor."
"Akira Kasumioji, an unseated member of the Second."
". . . Kasumioji?" Matsumoto repeated. "I know that name."
Hitsugaya nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yes, you do."
Matsumoto set her bottle aside. "I was under the distinct impression that that whole mess got handled. It even ended with a wedding! Proper comedy and all that."
"Mm," said Hitsugaya. "Wouldn't it be convenient if things were that simple?"
"Fuck." Matsumoto shook her head. "All right. That's a lead, at least. Do we send a delegation to the little lady? Or do we handle things more . . . covertly?"
Hitsugaya grunted. "We can't afford to be rash," he said. "Calm, steady, deliberate." He clicked his tongue. "I want eyes on the children at all times. Until this . . . Nishi . . . is accounted for, I can't afford to assume Izumi and Hibiki are safe. There's no telling what his ultimate aim is, with them or any of his other puppets. For all we know, he wasn't banking on us killing them, but specifically wanted them inside the Court."
". . . You're thinking they might be sleeper agents."
Hitsugaya's eyes were blank. "I don't know what I think, Rangiku."
Matsumoto leaned back, closed her eyes, and let out a slow breath. "I don't think I like this business of killing kids, Toshiro."
"I'm hardly thrilled at the prospect. But was Sosuke Aizen not the most harmless man in this whole damn court? The notion that he could turn on his own, that he would ever raise hand or sword against anything but a Hollow, was laughable. Look where that led."
Matsumoto stared off at nothing. "I wish I had an argument," she muttered.
". . . She looked harmless, too."
Matsumoto's every synapse snapped onto her captain; Hitsugaya had a leaf in his hand, and he was twirling it around in his fingers. He wasn't watching the leaf; he wasn't watching anything. He wasn't present in the slightest.
"Toshiro."
"I'm not making that mistake," Hitsugaya growled through his teeth, "not again. I did it with Aizen. I did it with . . ." He crunched the leaf in his palm and clenched his hand into a fist. "No. I don't want to mistrust them, and I have no intention of doing anything I'm not forced into doing. But if I must . . . if it comes down to it . . ."
He didn't finish.
Matsumoto didn't press him.
Silence descended slowly, like a funeral shroud.
