A/N: Took me a while since I've been working on other stories at the same time. I'm keeping at it, though.

Feedback: Let me know what you think.

Karakura at sunset is bathed in bright shades of fading oranges, pinks and brilliant reds.

The lovely view from the vantage point on the roof of a bakery would have been appreciated by anyone other than a soul reaper irritated beyond belief for waiting far too long.

The dismissal bell had sounded half an hour earlier.

She is late.

Again.

Hitsugaya huffs out a breath of annoyance seconds before he is alerted to a grouping of hollows in the area. The phone is shoved into his pocket with more force than necessary as he grips his zanpakto, feeling very eager to fight and wondering if this is how Zakari Kenpachi always feels before hacking away mindlessly into something.

His mouth curves upward in a way that is just a bit too fierce when he arrives, alerting his quarry that something might be wrong. They look at each other momentarily before scrambling to get the hell away. And run! Run for their lives!

The spirit of a child is left behind in relative safety as the pursuit continues.

"It's Zakari's spawn!" a hollow yells as it gets moving on spidery legs.

"No way, I thought that dude's name was Ikkaku," another comments as it slithers.

"I thought that was just a rumor," the third one in the group replies.

"Isn't it supposed to be a pink-haired runt?" the second one asks.

At the sound of a sword slicing through the air, the three are more determined to haul ass. The question doesn't matter so much after a few nanoseconds to evade another damned swing aimed at them.

"Hurry the hell up!" the first yells again. "He's gaining on us."

Hitsugaya's jaw clenches, ready to rip them to shreds. And really? The rumors circulating in Hueco Mundo are just plain ridiculous.

Stupid.

Untimely.

Inconsiderate.

Like someone else he knows.

He catches up to the trio with no real effort and unleashes his zanpakto to work off some anger that would make the 11th division captain proud. Slash, thrust, charge—the same moves are performed in a different order as he goes.

Despite being proud of having an actual disciplined fighting style, it doesn't really matter at the moment as all he cares about is complete destruction. The sounds of cracked cement, snapped wooden beams, broken windows and twisted metal vaguely register through him.

In the end, his rage isn't calmed all that much, however satisfying the ensuing screams.

It's over far too soon for him.

When he reaches the kid, who is unharmed, she is staring at him incredulously.

"Geez, mister," the girl says, wide-eyed. "Don't you think that was a bit much?"

He frowns, puzzled at being addressed as an adult for the first time. He's been called a lot of things (short stuff, pre-pubescent, tiny Tim, rugrat) usually by strangers or hollows. This change takes him by surprise.

"What? No way," he denies.

"Way," she replies, shaking her head as if to shame him into guilt.

Then she points in the direction from where he just arrived. It prompts him to turn around, which he immediately regrets.

It looks like the work of a bulldozer driven by a blind madman in a nuclear war zone. He grimaces momentarily. It's coming out of his pay. Damn it.

"Maybe," he mutters.

A quiet sigh escapes him.

"Wanna talk about it?" the girl offers.

Hitsugaya's fingers comb through his hair in frustration. He's in between wracking his brain to think of an exact point to start and exasperated that it's come to this somehow.

After launching into a tirade of a silly girl, her insanely strong brother, the scarily sweet sister and goofy father, he finds that he's exhausted.

The girl soul nods sagely, taking it all in. She paces three seven steps exactly in front of him before spinning on her heel and doing it again. Hitsugaya's zanpakto edges along the cracks of the sidewalk, digging out a stray weed and spilling loosened dirt on the cement.

He doesn't really notice when she stops.

"You should say something," she says suddenly.

"Huh?" is his intelligent rebuttal.

"Tell her," she repeats slowly. "Clearly, she means something to you, dummy."

For the first time, he is confused.

"What?"

When she keeps going on about being communicative and how important it is to be honest in a relationship, he's got Hyorinmaru at the ready for a konso while his other hand is mocking her by opening and closing like an imaginary puppet.

He's not sure if she notices, bu then she rests her hands on her knees to get at eye level with him.

"Tell her you like her," she explains again, more slowly this time and knocks a little fist on his forehead with each word, as if drilling it into the door to his brain. Were all boys are so dense?

Predictably, he scowls. Deny, deny.

"Time to go," he announces suddenly to make her shut up. Once and for all. "Good luck."

She winks at him. He refrains from scowling, just barely.

"You, too."

Girls. Go figure.

As Hitsugaya gets back into his gigai, he finds a familiar sight.

Karin is standing with a group of her classmates nearby. That boy from the match is taking up her attention again. Still, it doesn't deter her from ending the conversation as she seeks him out instead.

"Hi," she greets him with a sunny smile when she walks over to him.

He acknowledges her with a side glare that she's grown accustomed to seeing.

"Sorry if I made you wait," she says softly, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "Walk me home?"

"I was not waiting," he clarifies. "There was a hollow nearby."

Despite the small smile that forms on her mouth, she doesn't argue and instead nudges his shoulder with hers before taking a few steps forward.

Somewhat calmer, he takes the familiar spot beside her as they make their way forward but not before sending a silent death threat with an icy stare.

The boy hides behind a small group of remaining classmates. Inwardly, Hitsugaya smiles.

While he looks at her (discreetly, of course) he considers the advice the young girl's soul offered him before he performed a konso.

As they walk, Karin tells him all about her karate lesson and effectively interrupts whatever ill-conceived plan he has in mind, which kind of works out because he's not exactly sure what to say anyway.

Instead, he listens to a story that involved her body slamming the instructor over her shoulder.

"And it was awesome!" she proclaims, raising her arms triumphantly.

It reminds him of Isshin as he stares at her, suddenly horrified. They are related after all, he realizes too late. Then it dawns on him how utterly doomed he is.

She's got that bright, silly grin on her face as she talks, making it seem not so bad.

Ridiculous girl.

The rest of the week goes pretty much the same, with him waiting (and getting incrementally more irritated) in between patrolling duties and sending regular reports to the Sereitei.

Despite it all, his anger dissipates somewhat upon seeing Karin.

On a Thursday, after he finishes off a hollow near the Karakura household, Yuzu bumps into him while holding a stack of notebooks.

"Hi," she greets him.

He waves with one hand before she asks him if he'd mind walking with her to school.

"Karin is staying a bit late to help organize the class booth for the school festival," Yuzu explains.

Hitsugaya remains unreadable, keeping quiet as he listens to her cheerful chatter. He knows that while the twins go to the same school, they are in separate classes.

"I don't know what her class is planning," she tells him. "Last year, they put up a yakitori shop and made a lot of money."

The story is nothing new since he's heard it before on one of their afternoon walks. They'd raked in the most profits, beating out the other classes in their year and gone to a beach resort for their class trip.

"You know, she refused to wear the waitress outfit," Yuzu giggles. "It was such a shame since she looked so cute in it."

He looks away at one of the last leaves on a branch, trying not to visualize the image Yuzu is describing in detail—it's mostly ruffles, ribbons and bows. It distinctly clashes with the badass (complete tomboy) image she's cultivated. As they near the gates, she considerably slows her steps.

"Um," she suddenly stops. "Would you mind terribly dropping this off to Karin?"

He frowns, more puzzled than annoyed at the way she is digging one foot into the ground and isn't quite meeting his eye. She appears more preoccupied with a corner window she keeps eyeing nervously.

"You see, Ichigo is coming home in a few days and I have a few things I need to do before he gets here," she explains, suddenly bashful.

He takes the notebooks tied securely in white string as she hands it over.

"Sure," he replies, uncertain.

She babbles on about a list of things she needs to do as he politely tunes out the list of ingredients she is calling out.

Yuzu has taken several steps in the opposite direction just as he turns to make his way through the gates. Something suddenly occurs to her. He hears footsteps echoing off the concrete that stop a short distance from him.

So he dutifully makes his way toward the school until a hasty, "Wait!" stops him.

A hand grips his sleeve, making him turn around.

Yuzu is panting.

"Just a thought," she starts.

He frowns and automatically takes in the surroundings, just in case of an emergency. She must have run back so suddenly for something, after all.

"If you go the candy and flowers route, just know that she hates roses and cherry cordials," she informs him, jerking her head towards the school.

Before he can open his mouth to ask what the hell she means by that, she beats him to it by responding. Must be a Kurosaki thing, he muses.

"FYI, you know," she explains and winks conspiratorially.

"Ri-ight," he drawls, doubtful as his eyes narrow slightly.

He kind of wants a reason to draw his sword and kill something, like now. And immediately.

The walk through the building brings back some memories from his stint as a student several years ago. There'd been training, the inevitable fighting, the mostly calm days spent in near boredom. He'd met Karin during that time—small and scrappy, but determined. More so than her friends, all boys. And then it hits him, full force.

Boys.

Festival.

Costume.

He pauses on the fourth step in the staircase and considers the possibility of Yuzu's overly descriptive recollection as something that would likely happen.

Matsumoto's voice came ringing back from a hot afternoon the last time he was in town.

"You're interested in a girl from the world of the living?" she had asked, partly joking, but mostly serious at his expression when he gazed at the little brunette bossing around a group of boys. "I understand, sir. A man gets lonely sometimes."

"Ugh," he scowls at the memory, irritated by the implication. He remembers her mentioning something to the same effect after they'd had dinner with Orihime.

He makes it up the stairs in double time.

Karin is rather bored at the endless exchange of idle chatter. The last 45 minutes have been nothing but bouncing ideas around.

She huffs quietly, writing down the latest theme her classmates have dreamed up. It's been the same thing all week, she thinks and is dying to have them pick something so that she can leave. There's a cute boy involved, after all. A strange one, who goes around keeping the town safe by killing invisible monsters, sending souls to the afterlife (or whatever) and isn't really alive, but then, those are just technicalities.

Because he listens to what she has to say and even though extracting a conversation has been like pulling teeth in the past, it's gotten easier over time. He's actually volunteering information now. If that's not progress, she doesn't know what is.

"Tiki bar," someone shouts. "That way the girls can put on grass skirts!"

The aftermath of the impact of a fist meeting an arm is heard in a succint "Ow."

"Egyptian pharaohs," another tells her.

"Um, what about casino royale? We can get a roulette and cards and everything."

Her chin rests lopsidedly on one hand as she continues scribbling halfheartedly despite all the animated chatter. Karate practice earlier in the day wiped out most of her energy. Her stomach growls, making her regret running out of the house so early without bringing her lunch.

Her daydreams of escape and a proper meal are interrupted by the sound of a boy's voice.

When she looks up, it's her friend Kazu who is blushing darkly. She remembers the football match and Hitsugaya's cold manner towards him. Oh, if only Hitsugaya knew.

"I know!" he offers. "How about a kissing booth!"

She smirks, thinking it funny how Kazu is trying to get Yuzu's attention.

Boys. Go figure.

The door to the class opens then, revealing a very bewildered Hitsugaya. Karin's chin slides off her hand, making her stumble forward a little.

"Good idea," someone calls out.

"Yeah."

"We'll keep the streak alive and beat the other classes again this year." A clap of high-fives sounded from somewhere in the back of the room.

"Best idea ever," someone else proclaims.

"Uhh," Karin tries to string a coherent explanation as she stares into blue-green eyes. Nothing comes to mind amid the rising volume of collective conversations.

"Hi," she finally manages with a small smile.