The idea of practicing swordsmanship being something that most soul reapers do in their spare time … well, it's stuck with me for a long time. That has to be what they do, right? I mean, what else do you do? Aside from all the random shit I've worked into Soul Society in my mission to turn it into a workplace comedy.

I contend that none of what I've done contradicts canon in any way.

I do wonder if they have to, like, punch in every morning.

.

"Once, twice, thrice . . . once, twice, thrice . . . once, twice, thrice . . ."

Hitsugaya repeated these three little words to himself with each movement, like a mantra, as he worked his way through his oldest sword drills. He wasn't working to improve his swordsmanship; that would have involved much more conscious work. This, by contrast, was an exercise in ridding himself of irksome, annoying thoughts. It was his way of clearing his head, of renewing his sense of focus.

The twins sat near Matsumoto as they watched him work.

"Is Mister Captain fighting monsters?" Hibiki asked.

"He's practicing," said Matsumoto, "so that next time he does fight monsters, he'll be ready. The best way to make sure nobody gets hurt in a fight is to know what you're doing. Captains have to be the very best, the strongest out of everybody. That's their job: to be examples for everyone else in Soul Society. Not just for their soldiers, but for all the souls who rely on them for protection."

"So's he can protects us?" Izumi asked.

"That's right," Matsumoto said, nodding.

"Who's gonna protects Mister Captain?" Hibiki wondered. "What happens if he's gets in trouble?"

"That's my job," Matsumoto said, squaring her shoulders. "I'm here to help him with whatever he needs to do. Sometimes, that means going with him when he goes patrolling, but it also means I'm here to back him up if he ever gets in trouble."

"Zu does that," Hibiki said, "for me."

Izumi nodded emphatically.

"Once! Twice! Thrice!" Hitsugaya's voice wasn't any louder, not really, but his chanting grew more and more intense as he kept up his drills. He was gaining in speed, but he'd lost no precision. He was nothing if not . . . exacting, whenever he practiced something. Never was he more demanding than with his swordsmanship. "Once! Twice! Thrice!"

"Is he scareded of Mister West?" Izumi asked.

Matsumoto realized that she had no idea how to answer this question. Eventually, as she watched her captain work, she settled on: "He isn't scared for himself, no. He's worried about what Mister West might do to other people. To you, or our soldiers, or other civilians. It's his job to protect everyone, but . . . he can't protect everyone. Not all the time. That's why we have to do our best to back him up, him and all the other captains. That's what we do. We make sure he's able to do as much as he can."

"Can we helps him?" Hibiki asked, clearly incredulous at the concept.

"Yes," Matsumoto said, "you can. The way you do that is: you listen to our instructions, and you pay close attention to your training. You do what your teacher tells you to do. Okay? That's what you do. You both need to learn how to protect yourselves. That's the best way for you to help him."

Izumi pointed to Hitsugaya. "Will we do that stuffs? Is that what we gots to learn?"

"Something like that, yes," Matsumoto said.

"When do we gets swords?"

Matsumoto laughed. "We'll get there," she said. "For now, though, here's something for you to do: pay attention to Mister Captain, okay? Pay close attention to what he's doing, and then tell me what you think he's practicing. What's he trying to do? If there was a real monster in front of him, what would his sword be helping him to do?"

"Kill 'em dead," Izumi declared.

"Slice 'em up," said Hibiki.

Matsumoto laughed again. "All right, that's a good start. But let's keep going."