Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the only bleach I own is the stuff I occasionally throw in the washer.

WARNING: A little AU in that this doesn't exactly follow the time-line and is set approximately a year after the end of the Soul Society Arc. Otherwise true to the manga.

FURTHER, CHAPTER SELECTIVE, WARNING: This is the second part of the previous chapter's musings and will be considerably more serious than those previous and those to follow. Considerably, considerably more serious.

Chapter 4

The Dragon Begins to Rise

From Its Icy Slumber

This only leaves my questions.

Will Matsumoto be able to see me for what I am now? Can I reform our relationship so that we are both happy? Is it possible for me to ease the passing of Gin, to replace him, or to take some part of Matsumoto that did not belong to him?

Why is my heart beating out of my chest?

I will not let her best me. She has had all the emotional control in our relationship in the past, whether she is aware of this or not.

I need to be in control of my own emotions, so that I can protect her. I will surrender myself willingly to her, but I must protect her at all costs. I thought that I was capable of this, but I was wrong. I was crushed when Gin hurt her, and I was again crushed when I could not protect her from the Arrancar.

But I will also need to learn how to let go.

I have grown stronger. I have grown stronger for her. And my trust in her has also strengthened. I will know when she needs to do something on her own, when I need to let her go and protect herself.

But I will also know when she needs me. And she needs me more than I realized, or more than I think she has realized, yet.

I know now that I want to protect her, more than anything, and I want her happiness, more than anything. I only hope that I can give this to her.

From what I saw on the way here, I am confident that I can.

I gave her enough time to change, and waited downstairs by my door. There is something strange about this door, like the souls that pass through it are reverent in their passing. Though I do not know why anyone beside me would be reverent, exactly. I also sensed something else when I came back, several nights ago. I had opened the door, and the still air of my office had swirled around me, cocooning me in a sense of home, and almost joyful for a new portal in and out of my sanctuary. I had an impression of long-awaited movement, of stillness, of emptiness. I realized that I still did not understand, so I questioned my lieutenant when she came downstairs.

"Matsumoto," I asked. "Why is it that there is so much dust at the edges of my door?"

Her expression had darkened uncharacteristically, but she said calmly, "I will have it seen to, taichō."

I looked at her silently, knowing she would explain if she was flustered. And usually a cool stare could make her flustered. "I only told them not to use it until you returned, but they must have been too afraid to even clean it. I suppose I may have scared them a little," she giggled a bit there, and I was almost too distracted to hear the rest of her explanation, "and I am sorry, taichō, I will make sure they clean it up for you right away."

I won't say I wasn't surprised. I didn't know that Matsumoto felt that strongly about my presence in the workplace. To reserve my entrance for use only when I am at home. . .that is a rare honor indeed. I understand the reverence now.

I was touched by Matsumoto's respect for me, and I was also cut to the quick by how her loneliness must stand out when my door is shut for months on end. It is there as a constant reminder that I am not home, that I am gone for an indefinite period of time.

So I merely nodded, not wanting to embarrass her, and offered her my arm. Her look of surprise was priceless. Normally the both of us would have walked sedately through the Seireitei, or would have flash stepped across the rooftops, but today I spun casually and took us directly to the plaza outside Kaze no Hime, a long-distance flash step that was no mean feat.

Matsumoto blinked, and then thanked me in a rather slow and thoughtful way. Very unlike her.

If I throw her just as off-balance as she can throw me, I will be grateful.

I requested the balcony, and my wishes were immediately fulfilled. Matsumoto was standing diligently and silently next to me, and I can't imagine what a pair we made. A beautiful woman in a lovely kimono, and an unfamiliar captain (I can only imagine their thoughts: I don't recognize him. . .although his hair is white. . .like Captain. . .oh, wait.) silently adjourning to the balcony of Kaze no Hime, where usually only noblemen frequented.

There were no questions, no snide remarks about my height, no confusion while being addressed authoritatively by so short a personage. I appreciated that.

We shall see where it goes from here. Tonight may be the turning point in my plans, if all goes as I hope. Like I said, so far, so good.

I pulled a chair out for my lieutenant, and glanced out over the Seireitei, judging that the sun would set in perhaps less than twenty minutes.

Matsumoto seemed a bit lost, so I ordered for her. She also seemed a bit speechless, so I had to coax at least a few words out of her.

"It seems as though you are actually caught up on your work for once, my fukataichō," I said, smiling.

This made her perk up a bit, because this was a safe subject, one she could engage in easily. She laughed. "Of course, taichō. I wouldn't leave so much for you after you had to melt in a desert for six months."

"What makes you think I would melt?" I asked steadily.

"Ano, Hyourinmaru is made of ice, taichō."

"Interesting point," I murmured. "Maybe I did melt, a little then."

She laughed again, and that sound made my heart feel like it had wings. How I had missed her laugh so. "You are so silly, taichō. Practically everyone melts in a desert."

"Even you, my lieutenant?" but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that I had said something wrong. A memory stirred, like Hyourinmaru does after he has been sleeping for too long: slowly, and a bit too late.

Her brow darkened momentarily. "Not so easily anymore, taichō, because I learned my lesson. I almost died in a desert, a very, very long time ago."

"Yes," I remembered then, how Gin had saved her. I do not know why I know this story. I do not wish to know why I know this story. "That would teach you the lesson well."

Her brilliantly relieved smile made it ok, because she was glad that she did not have to explain herself. "I like deserts though, taichō. I would have gone to Hueco Mundo if you had let me."

"I know that, Matsumoto," but I wouldn't have let her. Absolutely not. The real world was one thing, Hueco Mundo. . . "But don't you remember what I told you?"

"'Just sit back down and do your damn work, Matsumoto?'" she said wryly.

I grimaced. "After that."

"'Good-bye, Ma—'"

"Before that!" I growled.

"Oh," she thought for a moment. "Was this the part I attempted to ignore because it was some nonsense about me being safe?"

I scowled at her and growled, "I said, 'I want to keep you safe, so you should stay here.'"

"That might have been it," she said thoughtfully. Although she might have just been mocking me.

"That's why you didn't come to Hueco Mundo, Matsumoto," I told her abruptly, hoping that my deep-set emotions would not betray me to color my voice now. "I will willingly put myself in danger if it means that you will not have to be subject."

Her eyes narrowed, and I could tell that she had caught my subtle hint. "What do you mean?"

"A much larger squad than just I, Kyoraku's Third, and Iemura from Fourth Company was originally selected. The General thought that you, Abarai, Madarame, and Ayasegawa could go on the mission with the two Third Seats. I went to Kuchiki-taicho, and we both agreed that we did not want you or Abarai going into Hueco Mundo unsupervised, as Abarai is too hot-head and you are dangerously close to the threshold of bankai. I told him I would go instead of you lot if he interceded for me with the General, and the next day Yamamato had mysteriously changed his mind."

Matsumoto's cheeks were suddenly flushed, but I wasn't sure why. Was she angry? Her spirit energy didn't feel angry. Was she embarrassed? She shouldn't be embarrassed—

"This has nothing to do with how capable I feel you are, Matsumoto," I said quietly. "I couldn't ask for a better lieutenant. You're loyal and caring and brave. You understand our people and take care of them like they were your family. You fight with everything you have and more, and I wouldn't want anyone else beside me—"

She jumped up, so I also rose, trying not to tower over her. My arms were suddenly full of Matusmoto, and it was all I could do to stay still, to not do something supremely foolish. I breathed in, and her heady scent of wood lilies and something I can never place washed over me. I slid an arm around her waist securely, using my other hand to smooth her hair.

She was shaking, and I thought that she might be crying, but I really hoped she wasn't. Her arms were wrapped around my waist securely, her face buried in my chest.

I thought then that maybe she was crying because she hadn't had someone really take care of her in a very long time. And she was trying to accept that I will do that. I am willing to take care of her now and forever, if she will let me.

I stroked her hair, reveling in its softness and marveling at how the setting sun had caught it and turned it into flames with its light.

"You'll always have me, my Matsumoto," I whispered. "I promise."

"Thank you," I heard her murmur, and I clasped her tighter in my arms. "Thank you for being so good to me."

"I've told you, Matsumoto," I said steadily. "You deserve to be treated well." Her scent was overwhelming me, causing my mind to fill with so many delicious images, images I should not have been seeing, not so soon, not when my plans were yet to be carefully executed.

"I wish you would have let me go with you," she said then, softly. "I missed you. So much."

"I missed you more than you can know," I whispered, and I dropped my lips to her temple, placing a small kiss there, but that was another mistake because the feel of her soft skin sent my mind reeling again. The dragon stirred within me, and I had to reign in on my feelings to keep myself from descending on her creamy neck like a vampire. Instead I pulled her head back so that I could look into her eyes.

She had been crying. I used the pad of my thumb to wipe away a tear. "There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you, Rangiku. Rest assured of that. Every moment was that much longer because you weren't there with me."

She was flushed again, and she tried to giggle. "Ano, taichō, I always told you that you'd miss little old me."

"Well, you were absolutely right," I growled, and I was struggling with myself, struggling to keep from brushing the rest of her hair from her eyes and capturing her lips with mine.

That was when the heat that she is not used to seeing present in my gaze must have unnerved her, because she pushed away and murmured something about going to wash her face.

So I am waiting on the balcony of Kaze no Hime, a place I could not have come to without a fight a mere six months ago, a place I would never have seen without Matsumoto's insistence once upon a time that one day I could become a shinigami.

I would wait here forever, the light of the setting sun preventing my snow from drifting down, if it meant finding Matsumoto.

It is so easy to be myself with her, and I hope she sees this. I hope she understands that I am genuinely and avidly concerned for her well being. I don't think she has grasped my determination as of yet, but I am determined.

Matsumoto is mine. Soon I will be able to show her this, and she'll see how easy it is rouse a dragon from its icy slumber to full-on passionate heat.

A/N: Oh, Hitsugaya, I love you. Very, very much. Thank you all for the kind reviews! Next chapter is a return to Matsumoto, and will involve the conclusion of this date and maybe something that follows?

Until then, loves!

Conterra-hime