Chekhov's Children.
Or something.
.
A rush of leaves swirled across the lot. Matsumoto dipped backward and watched as a hooded figure rushed into view. She saw a blade; short, chipped, barely a weapon at all. The hooded figure was so small. Thin, short, barely higher than Matsumoto's waist. From the opposite end of the empty lot came a second figure, this one with a club, rushing out next.
An ambush.
Haineko stayed sheathed.
Hitsugaya remained where he stood, arms still crossed over his chest, eyes still closed; when both hooded figures made for him, he vanished. While it was no surprise to see a captain flash step, Matsumoto couldn't help but admire just how smoothly he moved.
Standing atop an awning over an abandoned storehouse, eyeing the hooded figures like a malevolent god, Hitsugaya called out: "Identify yourselves."
It was a standard order, the sort of thing any soul reaper would say in a situation like this. It was protocol. However, in Matsumoto's experience, the people who heard this message never listened; anyone who had the temerity to attack a soul reaper, especially one wearing a captain's cloak, would never listen to orders. That just wasn't in the cards.
The two hooded figures, now standing next to each other—they were so small—looked around, clearly confused. Eventually, they spotted Hitsugaya standing above them. Despite not being able to see their faces, Matsumoto could tell that they were flummoxed.
They both dropped to their knees and dropped their heads to the ground.
"Forgive us, Mister Captain, sir!"
The leaves from before settled down onto the ground, as Matsumoto and Hitsugaya shared a look. The hooded figures' voices were just as small as their bodies; they were children. If they'd been humans in the living world, they might have been six or seven years old.
Hitsugaya, brow furrowed, hopped down from his perch.
He stepped forward. "What did you intend to do?" he asked. "What's this about?"
Hitsugaya's voice was soft now. Gentle.
One of the figures glanced up. ". . . You're a big important souls reaper," they said. "A whole captain. So you gots a whole bunches of rings. Right?"
Hitsugaya quirked an eyebrow at Matsumoto. "I see," he murmured. "That's what this is. You were trying to rob me." He sounded quite thoroughly unconcerned. "Do I have that right?"
The other figure sat up, started to speak, then stopped.
Hitsugaya couldn't see, from where he stood, the haggard bandit that came stumbling up behind him. Matsumoto watched, more confused than anything. Why did this random man look familiar? What was it about his . . . movements . . . ?
Clearing his throat and blowing out an annoyed breath, Hitsugaya whirled on a heel and held out his right hand. He touched his fingertip to the bandit's face, then watched impassively as his would-be antagonist was encased in ice.
The bandit's weapon, a sharpened pole, fell harmlessly to the ground.
A leaf fell onto the impromptu statue and stayed there.
Hitsugaya turned back to the children. "Now, then. What was this about rings?"
The little ones were both shaking now; they dropped their faces to the ground again.
"We're sorry!" they said, as one. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! Mister West says we gots to give him moneys or he . . . he . . . !"
"This," Hitsugaya said, gesturing to the frozen bandit, "is Mister West?"
The children shook their heads emphatically. "No, no, Mister Captain! That's Mister West's friend! He sent his friend to make sure we gots the rings! We was s'posed to give the rings to him!"
Matsumoto crossed her arms over her chest. "So," she murmured, "looks like a small-time gangster is trying to build a criminal enterprise."
"What's enterprise?" one of the children asked.
"She means business," said the other. "He's trying to makes a big business. That's called enterprise."
"Oh. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. Mister West's enterprise. Yeah."
"And he told you that you owe him rings," Matsumoto said. The children nodded. "So, you thought you'd target us. You knew that soul reapers get paid a salary, so that was the easiest way for you to get hold of money."
More nodding.
Hitsugaya sighed. "I don't like this," he said. He turned to Matsumoto. "Call this in. I want the whole area swept. The entire district if we have to. I want answers. I want this Mister West found."
"Sir," said Matsumoto. She gestured to the frozen bandit. "What about this one?"
"I'll handle that part," Hitsugaya said.
One of the children turned to the other. "I says he was important. See? He's giving orders and everything."
"Of course he's important," said the other child. "He's gots a dragon."
Hitsugaya and Matsumoto both froze on the spot. "What?" Hitsugaya asked.
"We knows you from befores, Mister Captain," said one of the children. "We knows you gots a dragon."
They reached up, as one, and lowered their hoods.
Hitsugaya stared; Matsumoto stared with him.
"Izumi," said Hitsugaya.
"Hibiki," said Matsumoto.