Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Matsumoto was going to be the death of him one day, he thought furiously, a packet of paperwork tucked neatly under his arm. At least the weather was pleasant enough for a walk, the breeze crisp and chilly. Summer was beginning to wane into fall, and within three months winter would come roaring in. Then he’d be happiest - he always had liked the cold better. It gave him a reason to wear scarves despite the fact that he didn’t really need them, and he’d always liked the look of a nicely ruffled scarf wrapped around his neck, especially if the color contrasted nicely with his stark white hair.

A smile came to the young teenager’s face at the thought, and he readjusted the paperwork under his arm, continuing on to the Twelfth Division with a slight bounce in his step. Hinamori and Matsumoto had wondered at him for some time now, puzzled by his addiction to scarves and his penchant for fawning over them - with restraint, of course, but still fawning. It wasn’t really his fault. Scarves were one of the few accessories that men could get away with wearing. Anything else would make people give him funny looks - so he held himself back, despite how annoyed it made him.

That returned his attention to the embarrassing incident not even two days ago. The same incident that Matsumoto had threatened to reveal to Momo if he didn’t take the paperwork to the Twelfth himself, even though it was usually her job. She’d cited the weather with a wink, though, saying that he could probably get away with wearing a scarf considering the wind. His face colored a bit at the memory, a sort of helpless, fond exasperation overtaking him. He appreciated the sentiment, and he knew that Matsumoto had just been teasing him, but the thought of that being revealed so suddenly stung.

Besides, the incident had been completely innocent, which made the matter all the more sore when it was brought up in jest - although Matsumoto had only done so once, and then seeing his upset, had curiously stopped her teasing and proceeded to apologize gently (that had been the day of its occurrence, actually). He’d been of the mindset to deliver a case of sweet buns to Matsumoto for her birthday, complete with a small package of persimmons, and had stopped by her house. However, she hadn’t been there. Toushiro had resolved to leave the package in her kitchen, and he had done so, unlocking her door with the spare key she’d entrusted to him and laying his package on the counter.

The young captain had turned to leave, Hyourinmaru humming cheerily on his back, when his master had caught sight of the open door of Matsumoto’s chaotic bedroom, and the open vanity sitting against the wall. At that, Hitsugaya had guiltily swept around with his senses, concealed his reiatsu a smidge more tightly than was usual for him, and slipped inside. Matsumoto had caught him, of course. He almost thought she’d been lying in wait - that she actually suspected he’d end up looking at (and perhaps - just perhaps - actually trying on) the intensely varied shades of lipstick and eyeshadow that she kept tucked away. He’d been completely mortified; she had appeared calm, almost appraising.

“You like my collection?” she’d asked playfully, smiling, and he’d practically leapt out of his skin and away from his lieutenant’s makeup drawers, blushing and rubbing at his face and stammering hasty excuses. She’d laughed.

“Oh, Taicho, you’re so cute when you flounder like that!” she’d giggled, taking him firmly by the hand and leading him into her living room. “But wow! I didn’t know you liked makeup. Maybe next time we can invite Hinamori-chan over and-”

“NO!” he’d yelped out, twisting himself free of her grip and leaving her standing there, staring at him. His breathing had been heavy and the slightest bit panicked, and almost immediately her face had rounded out in a mysterious kind of understanding.

“...It’s alright, Taicho. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. I’m sorry.” she’d said, her voice quiet. He’d relaxed almost instantly when he’d heard that. He knew his interests were atypical for men regardless of place, but in Seireitei it was almost unheard of. Ayasagewa Yumichika was the only man he knew of willing to express himself in a similar way to what Hitsugaya covertly longed for.

And then his second had, very calmly and unusually seriously, asked him the million-dollar question.

“Taicho...I’ve been wondering this for a while now, but...are you questioning?”

He’d blinked.

“...Questioning?” he’d parroted tentatively, trying to compose a satisfactory response, his mind whirling frantically. Matsumoto had clarified, her expression tender.

“Gender-questioning.” she’d explained with a smile. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to - but if you do say something, I promise I won’t share with anyone else what we say here.”

He’d stared at her, reminded himself implicitly that he trusted his vice-captain - his surrogate older sister for the past few decades - and at Hyourinmaru’s calm prompting, had inclined his head in a shaky nod. Matsumoto’s eyes had filled up and she’d reached out to him, pulled him into an unexpectedly warm hug.

“Oh, Taicho...” she’d chided, her face full of a kindness he’d rarely seen there. “You silly thing, not telling me. From here on out, you’re free to come over and look through my vanity all you want, okay? And if you ever need anything, or are confused about anything, let me know so I can try to help, alright?”

He’d been so shocked to find her supportive of his current, discomforted state that he’d agreed before he’d known exactly what he was doing. Shaking himself from the memory, Toushiro looked up to find that he was standing in front of the Twelfth Division, a sigh etched into his face. Matsumoto knew now - knew his secret - and there was no getting around it. At least she didn’t think of him differently simply because he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with his current gender.

A pair of scientist-shinigami met him at the gate of the Twelfth and bowed respectfully as he passed through, heading directly for the laboratory where both Kurotsuchi-taicho and his daughter/subordinate worked, intent on returning the forms he’d filled out so neatly the day before. He wound through the Twelfth’s myriad hallways with a cold glower on his face, fixed artfully in place by the slanted scowl of his lips, and the members of the Twelfth bowed to him and stood aside for him to sweep past. But finally he reached Kurotsuchi’s office. He knocked once, announced his presence through the door, and upon receiving an acknowledging grunt, stepped inside to hand the paperwork to Kurotsuchi.

The mad scientist took the folders from his younger colleague with a disparaging snort.

“Can’t you get someone to do this for you?” he sneered, and Hitsugaya raised a thin white eyebrow, playing absent-mindedly with one of the tails of his burnt-red scarf. No, definitely not this color - his skin tone clashed horribly with it.

“I wanted to take a walk, and I thought I might as well get some use out of it.” he replied coolly, his temper spiking. “Even though the scenery here is atrocious.”

Kurotsuchi leapt to his feet, shaking a finger in his younger colleague’s face. He didn’t seem upset though, and Hitsugaya instinctively knew that the other man was in one of his pretentious you-are-all-idiots moods.

“You wouldn’t say that if you’ve seen my lab, Hitsugaya-taicho.” he snapped, his voice a little creaky. “It’s a beautiful sight to behold - provided one has the right mindset, which I doubt you would.”

“And don’t want to.” Hitsugaya said dryly, rolling his eyes disparagingly. Squabbling old men were so tiresome - honestly, who put up with these idiots? “You’re the mad scientist, and you’ve left a rather bad taste in my mouth. If I ever enjoyed the sight of a laboratory, I’d fear I was becoming too like you.”

At that Kurotsuchi leaned over the desk, his painted face twisted in anger.

“How dare you come into my Division and insult me!” he raged, and Hitsugaya stared at the man, bored out of his mind by the display.

“It wasn’t an insult, merely my own personal opinion.” Toushiro interjected crisply, but Kurotsuchi kept shooting him dark looks and complaining under his breath.

“Oh, shut up already.” Hitsugaya muttered, turning to go, but just as he reached out to open the door, it slid back of its own accord and Kurotsuchi Nemu stepped through the opening, carefully balancing a tall erlenmeyer flask in her hands. She collided directly with the smaller captain, knocking her back and loosening her grip on the full flask in her gloved grasp. For one crystalline moment, all three of the room’s occupants froze, watching the odd purple liquid spill out. And then time resumed, splashing the purple all over the young captain’s face and chest.

Nemu let out a shocked gasp and managed to avoid the rest of the purple droplets as the flask shattered on the floor, but Hitsugaya coughed, wiping the violet fluid from his face in irritation. Both Kurotsuchi Mayuri and his daughter stared at him in a curious mix of horror and fascination.

“The hell was that?” the ice-captain spat, realizing that his skin was rapidly absorbing the purple fluid - somehow, as that shouldn’t be possible. Kurotsuchi Mayuri licked his lips in anticipation.

“An unfinished invention of Nemu’s, I believe.” the mad scientist said contemplatively. “Nemu, what did you say that solution was supposed to do?”

Nemu’s face was slowly turning white, and she covered her face with one hand.

“It was a gender-change medicine, sir.” she said, her voice very small. “It was meant to be temporary, but I had not worked out how to erase the permanence of it, however. So as of right now...the effects are permanent.”

Toushiro’s cool green eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open.

“Fix it!” he commanded, a panicky growl issuing through his lips. The Twelfth Division Lieutenant, well aware of the dangers of an angry Hitsugaya Toushiro , stepped back a pace before shaking her head.

“I apologize, sir, but I spilled my only batch when I ran into you. It may take me some time to concoct the reversing medicine.” she said, her dark, deep teal stare looking anywhere but at the captain standing in front of her. “...It would probably be best if you went to the Fourth Division while the medicine works to take effect.”

“Damn it!” Hitsugaya cursed, looking darkly at Kurotsuchi and his daughter. “Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho, notify Unohana of this incident for me so I don’t storm in and she’s left baffled.”

The lieutenant inclined her head, her gaze low, and even Kurotsuchi Sr. appeared suitably uncomfortable at the mention of the Fourth Division Captain’s name. Oh, Unohana was going to be pissed off.

“I will accompany you, Hitsugaya-taicho.” Nemu said in her blank manner, and with a last glare at the head of the R&D department, Hitsugaya swept outside.

Chapter Text

“Are you certain this potion works, Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho?”

Unohana’s voice was cold, her tone unusually stern, and she gripped one of Toushiro’s shoulders in a hold so powerful he doubted he could ever break away from it. The moment that Unohana had understood exactly what had happened, she’d shooed the pair of them into a back room and forced her younger colleague to sit on a long examination table while she mercilessly questioned the hapless lieutenant.

Nemu blinked uncomfortably.

“Yes, Unohana-taicho. Preliminary testing has been done on animals, and all results were positive, with no lasting after-effects...except that the change could not be reversed.” Nemu replied in her dusty monotone. Hitsugaya watched her carefully, slowly noticing that he was starting to feel a tiny bit dizzy. He tried to hide it, though, and was on the verge of asking Nemu a question himself when suddenly his body began to feel very strange to him, as if he was inhabiting an itchy, ill-fitting gigai. He fidgeted uncomfortably, the prickling sensation crawling over his skin getting worse, his dizzy spell spiraling to such heights that he fell back onto the examination table, landing hard on his elbows. Unohana turned to him in surprise, watching as a scarlet flush spread across his face. Immediately, she switched from imposing captain to concerned doctor.

“Are you alright, Hitsugaya-taicho?” she asked, her voice worried. He managed a weak nod, pressing his hands to his temples, his entire body flush with pins and needles. It was quite possible the most uncomfortable he’d ever been in his entire afterlife. Without any further conversation, Unohana ordered Nemu to leave the room, but to stay close by in case anything went utterly wrong.

And then everything well to hell. Toushiro writhed, whimpering, every cell in his body itching with a penetrating burn, every inch of his skin prickling terribly. Unohana tried her best to keep him calm but with the awful itching and burning it was difficult, and when the crawling of his skin shifted to focus on certain areas, he nearly started crying, the itch was so terrible. Unohana eventually had to restrain him with kido to prevent him from scraping off his skin.

But slowly, the itching, prickling burn that crawled over his insides and outsides alike began to die down, taking his conscious mind with it. Something was deliberately shutting him down, he realized, trying to fight the downward pull, and as he understood this he was sent sliding gracelessly into the dark.

He came to some time later, lying tucked up to his chin in warm, thick blankets, an unusual feeling of wholeness swimming through him. He could hear hushed voices speaking rapidly above him, and he listened half-heartedly, feeling quite tired. He wondered absentmindedly if it was the drug Nemu had spilled on him, then put the thought from his mind and listened to Unohana whispering hurriedly above where he lay dozing lightly.

“-ly examined Hitsugaya-taicho. He appears to be in perfect health, if worn out by the ordeal he just went through, but biologically he is now female. Even on the cellular level, he now carries two X chromosomes.” she murmured gently. “It’s quite remarkable, really, what Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho was able to come up with.”

A short huff of impatience was heard, and then Yamamoto’s grumpy, rumbling voice came through the pleasant, exhausted haze.

“This is a conundrum indeed.” Yamamoto mused thoughtfully. “There’s nothing wrong with this entire scenario except that a young man is now suddenly a young woman, though considering his Zanpakutou spirit’s history, the change will not be detrimental. Hitsugaya-taicho will still be fully capable of performing...his duties, I suppose, until this problem can be fixed.”

Unohana’s soft hum of agreement cut through the comfortable dark, and for a moment Toushiro listened vaguely, his mind all clouded. But then he sank back under, and knew no more.

He woke up the next day to find Matsumoto sitting at his side, her starlike-blue eyes worried. He groaned, his body aching somewhat, and sat up gingerly, puzzled by the subtle changes he could just barely perceive. His lieutenant observed him with a critical eye, patiently waiting for him to finish his mental cataloging. He always did the same with injuries.

It was odd, he thought ruefully, looking down at his hands and finding them unusually small and slender. Before, he’d had rough hands with knobbly knuckles that he hadn’t liked, but now they were sort of delicate, he mused, lips curling up in the hint of a disbelieving smile. He clenched his fingers into a fist. And from what he could tell, he was still as strong as ever.

It was the same for the rest of his body. He still felt strong, his muscles still were lean and sinewy under his skin, but he seemed a bit softer around the edges. Nervously, he kicked the sheets back and looked curiously at his feet, which were also smaller and more gracefully shaped than before. His toes didn’t exhibit the previous knobbly look anymore either, and his arms and legs were slightly more slender. His torso, however, was approximately the same; flat and characteristically thin, the musculature beneath his lightly toasted skin strong but ill-defined - a child’s body.

He glanced up at his lieutenant, folding his hands in his lap, and curled his legs to the side, his knees pressed together beneath the soft white of his yukata. He started a bit in surprise when his thighs touched together - his anatomy had definitely taken a turn for the feminine.

“Unohana-taicho informed you, I assume?” he asked calmly. Matsumoto nodded wordlessly, simply looking at him with something like wary hope in her eyes.

“All the captains know, Taicho.” she revealed, her tone bright but tempered by the protective sternness Toushiro knew so well. “They’re waiting to reveal it to everyone else, however. Unohana thought that you might want to pretend this didn’t happen and simply go about your business as usual until Nemu creates the counter - and just in case, she placed a gag order on all the people who know.”

Hitsugaya nodded absently, turning the dilemma over in his mind. He wasn’t incredibly angry that he’d been accidentally turned female, but rather more annoyed that it had been done without his consent. (This was Kurotsuchi they were talking about here - nothing like that would be an accident.) However, the real question was his Division. Would they care? Worry? For such a mishap to occur to their captain could quite possibly knock them off balance for a little while. And while he didn’t personally care for his reassigned sex, he had no idea how Seireitei’s general population would react. Seireitei was still rather conservative in nature - this would be ground-shaking.

Toushiro wrapped his arms around himself and sighed, and his lieutenant reached out and gently ran her fingers through his white hair.

“I don’t really care if people find out...but I don’t want it to be made common knowledge.” he sighed, his narrow little fingers twitching up to slap his lieutenant’s hand away. Rangiku chuckled a bit at the characteristic response, then smiled ruefully.

“Oh, Taicho...have you looked in a mirror yet?” she asked. “Your facial structure has softened. It’s not immediately noticeable to anyone who knows you...but when the new recruits see you for the first time, they’re going to see a young woman - especially if you let your hair frame your face.”

Toushiro felt his curiosity peak, and he cocked his head to the side.

“Really?” he asked, baffled by the insight. Matsumoto’s lips stayed fixed in that smile, but now it seemed more excited.

“Oh yeah. Here, use my compact - it has a mirror in it.” She passed him the small, round disk, popping the lid to reveal the mirror underneath. With a good deal of curiosity, Hitsugaya looked at his reflection.

A teenaged girl, probably around the physical age of a petite sixteen or so, looked back at him with wide green eyes. The sharp definition of his jawline and brow had been pared down to a sloping curve, and his cheekbones had just barely drifted up his face. He blinked, then ran his hand through his hair, tousling the tangled white strands into the usual spikes. Suddenly he recognized the androgyny of his facial features. With his hair spiked up, he could barely tell the difference from his usual appearance. Puzzled, he smoothed his unruly locks down again, and stared at the reappearing femininity in the mirror. Then he smiled a bit, feeling strangely whole for the first time since he’d first started feeling the twinges of confusion he’d come to associate with being gender-questioning.

“I’m kind of pretty as a girl.” he said uncertainly, and Matsumoto laughed, taking her compact back from her captain

“Oh, pretty doesn’t quite cover it, Taicho.” she agreed. Then her expression turned saucy. “But you were always a looker, even as a boy.”

“Matsumoto!”

Unohana released Hitsugaya from the Fourth after a full examination which left him blushing furiously. The concerned woman had wanted to cover all of her bases and therefore had given her younger colleague a full physical. It had required the always-bashful Hitsugaya to strip completely and allow Unohana to - in essence - evaluate his reconstructed body for any errors. She found none - thankfully the cell growth had not resulted in cancerous bulges - and promptly bid the young captain farewell.

Unable to conceal the flush which had spread across his face, Hitsugaya kept his head down and Shunpoed quickly across the Seireitei back to his division, the hakama he wore rubbing oddly against his legs. He bit his lip, trying to hide the laughter on his lips. He’d wanted to try being a girl for ages, just to see if he felt any better as a female than he did as a male, and now that he’d somehow been magically changed into a girl he was going to hide it. Just to keep his division members happy. He’d tell them eventually, of course, after he’d slipped a few feminine traits into his daily routine, one by one, and they started giving him funny looks. But this would be the perfect way to test run his new gender.

Toushiro landed lightly on top of the entrance gate to his Division and paused, suddenly feeling extremely lucky. This was the best possible way he could have made the crossover into being transgender without alarming Seireitei’s conservative nobles. If he chose to stay female, he could chalk it up to “not wanting the trouble of going through that unpleasant transformation again when being female was of no concern to him” or something along those lines, and if he chose to return to masculinity, well, nobody would have a problem with that.

The thought made him grimace. Annoying, really.

He leapt lightly down into the midst of several of his officers, startling them with his sudden appearance. They clustered around him moments afterward, however, entreating him to answer their frantic questions with anxious faces. Everyone, it seemed, knew that he had been suddenly and inexplicably rushed to the hospital - likely a courtesy of Matsumoto’s penchant for gossip - but were completely ignorant as to the cause of his sudden need for medical attention. Toushiro calmed them with some degree of difficulty, citing only a superficial accident in the Twelfth Division that Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho feared would cause adverse effects.

“Are you sure you’re alright, sir?” one of his two Fourth Seats said at length, and Toushiro felt his cool facade crack into something infinitely less icy and more like the playful snowfall that swept around his blizzardy heart. A slight smile curled his lips towards his ears.

“I’m fine. Unohana herself checked me over twice.” he said, shaking his head. Then he chuckled lightly, staring around in bewilderment at the eight officers he’d startled. “I didn’t cause too terrible of a disturbance among the men, did I?”

The same Fourth Seat shifted his stance a bit and sighed.

“Well...you see...several of the younger unseated worked themselves into a right state over your sudden disappearance.” he admitted quietly. “Poor kids. At least one of them kept crying that you’d been eaten by a Hollow and nobody had thought to inform us.”

Toushiro felt his initial humor subside into an exasperation, but was clearheaded enough to know that it wasn’t appropriate to express his annoyance with his subordinates beyond a light, reprimanding tease - for all they knew, he could have been dying.

“Well, you can tell them now that if I catch any of them sniveling over a tale like that again, they’re liable to get me angry.” the young captain said carelessly, eyes flashing. “I don’t take kindly to criers in my division, unless it’s for good reason - the death of a close friend, as an example. But the ridiculous notion of me being eaten by a mere Hollow? Good grief, do I look that weak?”

The seated officers laughed, and the Fourth Seat bowed and shook his head with a grin.

“Not in the slightest, Taicho. You’re positively terrifying.” he said good-naturedly, and Toushiro nodded approvingly, a smirk on his face.

“Ah, someone knows precisely how to butter up their captain. What is it you want?” Hitsugaya’s amusement was very clear, and the seated officers laughed again, this time at their fellow’s expense. The Fourth Seat flushed a bit pink.

“Well, I’d like two weeks of leave starting Thursday.” he said sheepishly, his face still pinked by a blush. Hitsugaya inclined his head briefly, and then, after studying the man’s face for perhaps a second too long, had a flash of strange but quite welcome intuition and allowed his face to split in a devilish smile of impish delight.

“Oh-oh.” the young captain said, grinning wickedly. “I saw that look. There’s a girl in this, isn’t there?”

His Fourth Seat’s face turned a burnished cherry, and his comrades howled with laughter. After snapping at them - with no real heat, but snapping nonetheless - to shut up, the brunette man gave his captain an embarrassed affirmative, causing another round of laughter from his colleagues. The Fourth Seat hung his head a bit, knowing that his captain wouldn’t likely let him take such an extended leave of absence for such an ill-explained purpose. But Hitsugaya watched with a slowly fading sense of wicked-child purpose, a sort of oft-felt understanding entering his mind. For a moment, he entertained the idea of suppressing the urge, then reconsidered his reassigned sex, decided to use it as an excuse, and let the kind wash of cool snow flow outwards. Hyourinmaru purred approvingly in his chest, curling more comfortably in his heart. The dragon spirit had always been benevolent to a fault; it had irked him that his master had to act so cold and cover up his softer side.

“Well.” he said, smiling at his Fourth Seat. “I suppose I could let you have some time off, but only if you tell me what significance this girl has. I’m not about to let you run off on me for some fling.”

The seated officers all blinked in surprise at the unexpected response, and with halting words, the Fourth Seat spoke.

“Well...you see...I was planning on proposing to my girlfriend...” he shifted uncomfortably, well aware of the dark green eyes fixed intensely on him. Hitsugaya appeared to be thinking that over, the cogs in his head turning.

“Would...ten days be enough time for you? I don’t think I could stretch that any more.” the Tenth Division Captain said finally, calculating the stress the absence would place on his officer hierarchy. The Fourth Seat started in surprise.

“Y-yes sir!” he said hastily, gaping at his captain. “Are...are you sure?”

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“For god’s sake, do you want me to change my mind?” he snapped, regaining his cold air, and the brunette shook his head madly.

“No sir! Of course not, sir!” he amended hurriedly. “Thank you very much!”

Toushiro shrugged.

“I’m in a good mood today.” he said by way of explanation, and smirked inwardly, for the statement was entirely true. “I think it’s likely to last a decent while. You happened to ask at the right time.”

The Fourth Seat thanked him again, and with a last nod, Toushiro flashed back off to his office, leaving his men murmuring in astonishment behind him. He grinned a bit, trying to hide the wholesome contentment on his young face, but as he entered the office and slid the door shut behind him, Matsumoto caught him smiling.

“Taicho, what’s made you so happy?” she asked, blue eyes widening, and Hitsugaya turned to her with relief on his face.

“I can be myself now!” he cheered softly, his happiness subdued but genuine. “No more biting my tongue and pinching myself whenever I feel that I’m about to do something uncommonly softhearted. I’ve found a way to figure myself out!”

Matsumoto’s face went bright and sweet, a smile on her face

“Oh, Taicho, that’s fantastic! Tell me, what’s your plan?” she said, rising from the sofa and coming across the room to lead her captain to his chair. He sat down comfortably, kicking his feet out aimlessly.

“Well, I’ll have to start out slow, but I figure I can start experimenting more visibly now.” he said, taking a folder from his inbox and opening it up, spreading the files out over his desk. “When people finally start asking me what’s going on, I’ll come out and tell them about the accident at the Twelfth in more detail - right now all they know is that there was a spill, and I was splashed. People will assume there are hormones or something affecting my behavior, and I can continue on until Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho finds a cure, or until I resolve to stay like this. And people should be used to me behaving oddly by then, so there won’t be as harsh of a transition if I decide that I am actually female.”

Matsumoto blinked at the simplicity of his design and sat slowly down on the edge of his desk.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Taicho?” she asked gently, and Toushiro paused, looking up with something like pleading in his startlingly green eyes.

“You try living when you’re uncomfortable in your own skin.” he said despondently, gripping his pen tightly in his hand. “It’s terrible, knowing that your instincts don’t align with your sex, knowing that you have to control yourself all the time. It’s why I attained Bankai so quickly, to be honest - I already had superb self-control.”

Matsumoto sighed deeply, then leaned back against one of the pillows in the couch and smiled faintly at her captain.

“I don’t doubt it, Taicho. I just want you to be sure that this is what you want right now.” she explained. Toushiro looked up, blinking.

“I have the perfect opportunity to exploit.” he said matter-of-factly. “I won’t have a chance like this again.”

Matsumoto smiled widely then.

“Then I’ll have to start planning! I’ll go draw up a to-do list, Taicho, see you later~!”

“Wait, Matsu-”

BANG. The door slammed shut behind his lieutenant, and Hitsugaya glared at the paperwork hiding under the couch.

“MATSUMOTO!”

Chapter Text

Rangiku met him bright and early the next day in the office - unusually for her - and spent the next three hours whirling through her paperwork like a woman possessed. And when she was done, she even slipped a stack of paperwork off her captain’s desk and completed that without his knowledge. Toushiro, therefore, was amazed to find that he and Matsumoto both were entirely done with work at eleven o’clock in the morning. He positively gaped at his empty desk, stammering confused questions, until Matsumoto gently led him over to the couch and sat him down with a warm cup of his favorite tea.

He sipped at the tea in a state of shock, and Rangiku cooed soothing words to him for several minutes while the poor young man tried to adjust to being presented with so much free time. Eventually, however, he finished the tea, and Rangiku slid a sheet of paper into his hands, filled with her sloppy yet pretty handwriting.

“I made you a list of things to try while you’re going to be experimenting with being a girl.” she said, smiling brightly. “I think we can start a few of them now. And feel free to let me know if any of them make you uncomfortable.”

Toushiro blinked at his lieutenant, then glared.

“All this time you could have been doing paperwork, and then we both would’ve had free time...” he grumbled, but dutifully glanced over the list that his lieutenant had made. At the top, in curly lettering, were the words “Bucket List,” and below that was a bulleted list of various things he should try. He read it with some curiosity, noting that a few of the various ideas Matsumoto had were fairly stereotypical: shopping, makeovers, and accessorizing. However, others were fairly typical adventures for all genders: art classes, movie marathons, and various types of sports. He looked up at her, biting his lip, and cocked his head to the side.

“...where should I start?” he asked helplessly. His lieutenant reached out and tapped the top of the sheet of paper. Hitsugaya read the note there with some exasperation.

“Really, Matsumoto? Do whatever I want?” he deadpanned, and Matsumoto laughed.

“It’s your own identity you’re trying to figure out. You have to make all the decisions.” she said, an unusual smile on her lips. “I’ve begged permission from Unohana-taicho and the Soutaicho jointly to allow you to slip off to the World of the Living when you have time off - like you do right now. So if you want to try something there, you can.”

Hitsugaya worried his lower lip with his teeth, chewing slowly, then finally tapped something on the sheet of paper.

“This one to start off, I think.” he said decisively. Matsumoto clapped her hands together, looking delighted.

“Ooh! Taicho, can I help you?” she asked, bouncing up and down on the sofa, and Toushiro looked at her for a moment, considering, then nodded.

“It’s always better with friends, I suppose.” he said softly.

A sudden silence fell, and Matsumoto looked at him strangely. He paused, lifted his head, then realized he’d let his tongue slip. He sighed.

“Yes, I called you my friend, get over it already.” he said, lips curling. “You’re one of the few people who I’d trust with my life.”

The buxom woman covered her mouth with her hand, but Toushiro had already stood up and seized his lieutenant by the wrist, completely ignoring her disbelief and gratitude, in favor of fleeing his office, his grip surprisingly strong. After a moment, Matsumoto yielded to her captain’s pull and followed him willingly to his spacious home at the back of the Tenth Division.

They had work to do.

Hinamori knocked on her little brother’s office door again, her brows furrowing together. There was no answer from inside, and it worried her. She’d never known Toushiro to be absent from his desk unless he was deathly ill or in the ICU, but she’d heard that he had been released from the Fourth yesterday with a clean bill of health. So...where was he?

She closed her eyes, picking out her little brother’s fresh, winter-clear reiatsu at the back of his division. Matsumoto was there too, her aura bubbly and excited. Hinamori paused, frowning, then Shunpoed off in her younger brother’s direction. She came to a halt just outside his house, her brow furrowed, then started in surprise and sniffed the air.

Was that...chocolate?

Curious rather than worried now, she went up to her brother’s door and knocked. For a long minute there was no answer, only the clang of metal on stone, a hurried curse, and then Matsumoto’s ebullient laughter drifting towards the door. With a puff of something like flour, the door slid open, revealing a t-shirt clad Matsumoto with white-powdered hands and jeans.

“Oh! Momo-chan!” the buxom blonde woman said in surprise. “Taicho, Momo-chan is here!”

There was an indistinct murmur from inside the house, and Matsumoto’s expression turned incredulous.

“Oh, for the Soul King’s sake, she’s your sister, Taicho, don’t be silly. Besides, she could join in the fun!”

A weary sigh came from inside, accompanied by a softly-voiced acquiescence, and Matsumoto cheered and grabbed Hinamori by the hand.

“Come in, come in!” she babbled happily, sliding the door shut behind the startled Lieutenant, and dragged the hapless girl towards Hitsugaya’s kitchen. Momo squeaked in surprise, wriggling against the older woman’s grip, then stopped short as they stepped into her brother’s polished kitchen. She’d been here before, so the luxury of her brother’s western-styled home didn’t blindside her, but Toushiro....?

“H-hey, Hinamori.” he said, his voice much shyer than was usual for him. He seemed very nervous, and oh-my-god-are-his-hands-shaking!? Momo gaped for a moment at the sight before her, utterly flabbergasted by her brother’s appearance. Then she recovered herself and swallowed hard, feeling distinctly unsure of herself.

“...the color goes nicely with your eyes, Shiro-chan...” she said, trying to process the sight before her, but it seemed that she’d said exactly the right thing. Toushiro’s eyes lit up, his hands stilling incrementally, and he turned to look at her, his expression erring on the side of hopeful pleading. She couldn’t help but stare in disbelief as he faced her fully.

Hitsugaya - ever-strong, ever-cold Captain Hitsugaya Toushiro - had combed his silky, soft white hair down from its spiky wildness and allowed the white wisps to curl prettily along his cheeks, a thick chunk of brand-new bangs sweeping like a gentle waterfall across his forehead. It was a distinctly feminine hairstyle - like an edgy, choppy pixie cut that had grown into an almost-bob - and holding the rest of his thick hair away from his face was a bright teal headband patterned with white paisley. His face...also looked different. It was softer. Prettier.

And he was baking.

Hinamori didn’t think she’d ever seen her brother bake before, but there on the clean, pale grey countertop was a mixing bowl filled with a gooey, chocolaty mess. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and a pair of casual, close-fitting yoga pants - obviously off-duty, and both were dotted with specks of flour, like Matsumoto’s clothes.

Toushiro shifted uncomfortably under his sister stare, his cheeks beginning to flush a pale pink, his gaze dropping with something like shame and cringing fear, and with a burst of horror Momo realized that she’d been looking at her brother like some sort of sideshow. She shook herself. Yes, this was weird. Yes, she was completely thunderstruck. No, it was NOT okay to stare.

“...um...” she said, mentally slapping herself for her intelligence - or current lack thereof. “...um, what are you baking, Shiro-chan?”

Toushiro’s expression dropped. He looked hurt, and Momo knew that her blatant gaping had probably made him feel terrible. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. But it wasn’t entirely her fault, she reasoned. It wasn’t every day that a boy you’d known since childhood suddenly looked like a girl without any prior warning. An apology would probably help, though, as soon as she figured out exactly why Toushiro was wearing one of Matsumoto’s headbands.

“...brownies.” he admitted quietly, and Momo took a deep breath.

“...could I help too?” she asked timidly, and Hitsugaya jerked his head up to stare incredulously at her. She smiled sheepishly at him.

“Brownies - and chocolate - are a girl’s best friend, Shiro-chan.” she told him, lifting her nose a bit. “And it’s not right to ask to eat them unless you help make them. Besides, Rangiku-san always puts weird things in her brownies, and you want to be sure you make a batch without weird things, just in case you don’t like her...creativity.”

Matsumoto, who’d been silently observing the exchange with all the protective animosity of a mother panther, suddenly dropped her wary glare and pouted.

“Hey! It’s not my fault you don’t have my advanced palate!” she protested, and Momo shot her an amused glance.

“You tried to put tomatoes and vinegar in the cookies I was making the last time I baked with you!” she said, shivering. “Honestly, Rangiku-san, your taste buds are weird!”

“They are not!”

Toushiro’s slight smile began to come back, but he still seemed distinctly unsure of Hinamori’s attitude towards him.

“...Hinamori...I...” he started uneasily, but Momo waved her hand at him flippantly, shushing him in midsentence.

“Tell me what Rangiku-san told you to put in the batter, Shiro-chan.” she demanded. “And the next time you bake...”

She pulled the pretty headband out her brother’s hair, ignoring the way his face fell and grew red with burning humiliation, then stiffened as Momo swept his new bangs away from his lightly-tanned forehead and pushed the headband back into her brother’s white hair, pinning all of the glossy white strands behind his ears.

“...keep all of your hair out of your face.” she said with a smile. “You don’t want anything yucky getting into your hair - you won’t be able to hide it unless it’s flour.”

Toushiro stared at her for a long moment, then lowered his head.

“...this doesn’t bother you?” he asked quietly, and Momo tossed her head.

“Of course this bothers me.” she sniped at him, watching the hurt flash across his face again. “You’re kinda crossdressing, just a little bit. It’s weird and I’ve never seen you do this before. But that’s not the point. You didn’t tell me you had an interest in anything like this. You pretended in front of me, and that hurts.”

Toushiro blinked, obviously not expecting that, and Hinamori shook her finger at him.

“I don’t have problem with you wearing headbands or makeup or even skirts and dresses, if you choose to do that. It’s initially a shock, but I’ll get over it.” she said, matter-of-factly. “But for goodness sake, don’t you hide something like this from me again, or I’ll make you wish you’d never been born, Hitsugaya Toushiro!”

Toushiro’s jaw dropped, and Matsumoto’s laughter pealed around the kitchen like bells. Momo grinned broadly, the slowly forming thought of possibly having a sister in the near future making her smile.

“Now, tell me what crazy things Matsumoto made you put in that batter, and we’ll try to fix it.”

“...okay...?”

Chapter Text

The next day, when Toushiro sat down on the couch in his office and pulled out his lunch during his break, he brought two brownies with him. One was for Matsumoto - she had in fact slipped a few ingredients into the batter behind his back, according to Hinamori, who’d tasted it and almost immediately run to the trash can to spit it out. He’d given his second a violent tongue-lashing, then poured most of the disgusting mix out and baked the rest specifically for her.

The other batch, however, Hinamori had helped him bake, and he had to say, they turned out very well. He’d eaten three last night, much to Momo’s delight, and they’d made plans to bake again in the future.

“Matsumoto, brownie?” he asked, and she looked up from where she’d been working on her paperwork in surprise. Then she smiled.

“Sure!” she accepted the wrapped little square with a little bow of thanks. “You’re so sweet, Taicho.”

“Oh, shut up.” he snapped, but his lips were twitching. “I don’t need my reputation ruined by you.”

She laughed, biting into the brownie and humming happily.

“Mmm. You sure you don’t want to try it, Taicho? It’s got mustard and asparagus!” she asked. Toushiro rolled his eyes and made a face at his lieutenant.

“Ew, gross.” he replied, wrinkling his nose in repulsion. “Does it have legs too? Because I’m almost positive that thing is so inedible it’s actually a mutated Hollow.”

Matsumoto laughed again and took an exaggerated bite out of it, making sure to overemphasize her delight. Toushiro gagged.

“You’re disgusting. Either that or all of your taste buds have died.” he said, looking pointedly back at his bento box and lifting his chopsticks. He set his brownie aside for later, focusing on eating his lunch for the time being.

Matsumoto just grinned at him and finished her mutant brownie with a satisfied smirk. For a brief while, the two of them ate in silence, but by the time Toushiro finished his lunch, brownie included, Rangiku had slipped over to his desk and taken the pile of the reports he usually did for her and returned to her work. Hitsugaya blinked, watching the paperwork leave his desk, stunned. Two days in a row? What was this, witchcraft? Had he fallen into an alternate universe?

“Matsumoto...what’s inspired you to suddenly start acting like a responsible adult?” he asked, baffled. She turned to look back at him, her face suddenly saddening.

“Well...” she said hesitantly. “...I’ve sort of been thinking about how you...well, you remember how I found out.”

Hitsugaya’s cheeks went a pretty shade of pink, but he kept his composure otherwise and nodded briefly. Matsumoto started toying with her long, blonde hair.

“Anyway, I was thinking about that.” she started again. “And...I’d known for a while that you were unsure of your gender identity. So I was wondering why you hadn’t, well...figured it out yet and I realized that my slacking was taking up all of your free time. You...you barely had any time to yourself to puzzle your feelings out, and I was only adding to that, so...”

Toushiro positively stared.

“You...you’re doing this to give me time?” he asked. Matsumoto nodded, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

“...I didn’t realize how hard I was making you work by slacking, Taicho.” she apologized gently. “But...I don’t know. The past few times I found you passed out over your desk...I knew it was definitely my fault. This was the final straw.”

Toushiro glanced at the single report lying in his inbox with a strange look in his eyes.

“...thank you, I suppose.” he said, his tone crisp, the jade of his icy gaze softening to a lively emerald, picking up that last folder and opening it with his slender fingers. He began reading through one of his Thirteenth’s Seats’ Living World update carefully, noting everything in the vast databank of his prodigy brain.

Matsumoto watched him for a few moments, then finished her paperwork, and an hour after lunch both captain and lieutenant were again blissfully done with work. Toushiro leaned back against the stiff wooden back of his chair, smiling faintly. For a long minute there was silence, and then the young man grinned.

“Living World?”

Matsumoto positively cheered.

“Oh, that’s perfect!” she bubbled happily. “We should take Momo-chan with us - and maybe we can meet up with Orihime-chan and Rukia-chan too!”

Toushiro started a bit, then glanced away, looking nervous. Matsumoto caught his expression and smiled.

“Trust me, Taicho.” she told him, and the young shinigami sighed deeply. Then he stood up and nodded.

“Always.”

The noise of Karakura Town hit him hard, but Matsumoto and Hinamori seemed to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the small city. Toushiro looked around at the tall buildings in no slight confusion, wondering as always why the humans felt the need to make everything so big and bulky. His nose wrinkled up, his derision showing through, but then Urahara was walking out of his shop towards them, seeming puzzled.

“My, my, my, what business could two Lieutenants and a Captain have in Karakura Town now? I thought all the big baddies were gone?” he asked slyly, hiding his face behind his fan and hat. Yoruichi slunk around his ankles in cat form, her golden eyes glinting. She cocked her head to the side, regarding the young captain appraisingly. Toushiro eyed her back, his stare cool, then flicked that icy emerald glare onto her longtime friend.

“I’m slacking off, Urahara.” he deadpanned, though to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t lying. The ex-captain shopkeeper gasped in mock surprise.

“No, that isn’t possible!” he pretended to swoon, smirking behind his fan. “What has the world come to?”

“Oh, stop that.” Toushiro snapped, annoyed, crossing his arms over his chest with a hint of pink tinting his gold-toned cheeks. His tan hadn’t faded much despite the winter sun - something which he knew made Matsumoto and Hinamori very jealous. “I need some time to relax - Matsumoto’s caught me passed out over my desk one too many times.”

Urahara raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t test the young dragon’s infamous temper.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting your gigai?”

Hitsugaya inclined his head incrementally.

“One for each of us three.” he acknowledged, but Yoruichi spoke up unexpectedly, interrupting their conversation with a softening glance at the ice-spirit before her.

“Kisuke, you’ll need to make some modifications to Hitsugaya-chan’s gigai.” she said in her masculine voice, her tone unexpectedly understanding. Toushiro stared at her, flickers of mixed disbelief and anxiety passing across his face, and Urahara dropped his fan to his side in surprise. Yoruichi blinked calmly at the both of them.

“Your scent has changed, Hitsugaya-chan.” she told him. “Estrogen has a much sweeter smell than testosterone.”

Toushiro’s face went very pink, and he averted his eyes, his cheeks burning furiously. Urahara and Yoruichi watched passively, and then Yoruichi padded over to the young captain and rubbed up against his legs, purring. He started a bit, and looked down at her, worry in his eyes.

“How?” the cat asked, curiosity evident in her eyes. Toushiro swallowed.

“Accident.” he said, his voice short. “Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho was working on something and spilled it all over me.”

The cat pulled away a bit, a calculating glint in her eyes.

“You wield the legendary dragon, Hyourinmaru, don’t you?”

Toushiro’s gaze narrowed to thin jade slits.

“Yeah, and?” he challenged, baffled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Yoruichi’s tail flicked idly.

“Traditionally, wielders of dragon-Zanpakutou are female. In fact, according to the Shihoin Clan’s records, all the recorded, previous owners of Hyourinmaru have been female except you.” she said calmly. “...I don’t think you’re as opposed to this change as you appear to be.”

Toushiro stiffened, and Urahara and Yoruichi laughed a bit at his stricken expression. Matsumoto and Hinamori stepped in front of him, eyes blazing, and the pair quieted, still looking amused.

“Oh, don’t you get all defensive on me; I’m not going to bite.” Yoruichi grinned. “My little brother is transgender now, but he was gender-questioning for almost thirty-five years. I know the signs, and you’ve shown quite a few of them.”

Toushiro’s jaw dropped.

“In the Shihoin House? The nobles hate that!” he gaped, and the cat laughed again.

“Oh yeah. It was a hell of a time trying to change his name and get the medicine he needed to suppress puberty, and we don’t think my parents or the elders would have gone along with it, but I forced them, and well....Yuushirou still looks a bit like a girl. And now he’s the Head of the Shihoin House, so they can’t go against him...it’s fantastic.” Yoruichi’s tail flicked cheerfully. “Now, come on, Hitsugaya-chan. Let’s get your gigai fixed, shall we?”

Toushiro sighed, but allowed the Shihoin princess to lead him inside, Urahara, Matsumoto and Hinamori following close behind.

The three shinigami were led to the front room and seated around a small circular table with cups of green tea while Urahara and Yoruichi trotted off to gather the gigai. For a brief moment the trio sat in silence, but then Yoruichi came bounding back in in her human form, dressed in jeans and a pretty orange blouse, carrying Matsumoto’s gigai.

“Here you go, Matsumoto-san.” Yoruichi said, handing her the gigai she’d used what felt like a lifetime ago. “You can borrow clothes from my closet if you don’t like the dress, but it seems like something you’d wear.”

Matsumoto looked at the billowy, long-sleeve violet dress with interest.

“No, you’re right. This is fine.” she said, smiling and murmuring the incantation she needed to slip inside the false body. Yoruichi grinned, then turned to look at Momo and Toushiro.

“You two can borrow from Ururu and Jinta, doesn’t matter which.” she said, winking specifically at Toushiro, who averted his gaze to the ground, a faint smile on his lips. “Come on, let’s go get the outfits picked out.”

Momo took her brother’s hand and yanked him up from the ground, and dragged him off after the Shihoin princess’s retreating figure. He followed with a half-hearted protest, accompanied by Matsumoto’s giggles and Momo’s knowing smile. But he was smiling faintly, and with unusual decisiveness he followed his sister into Ururu’s room.

The three came out of Urahara’s shop in their gigais just as Rukia and Orihime trotted up, Ichigo and Chad in tow. Orihime’s eyes lit up upon seeing Rangiku and Momo, but Toushiro, panicking inwardly, had hidden himself inside the shop before the others could see him.

“Oh no...” Matsumoto said softly to herself, turning back to look at the closed door. Orihime and the others bounded forward to meet the two Lieutenants.

“Rangiku-san, what’s wrong?” Orihime asked worriedly. “I don’t sense anything...”

“Neither do I - that’s the problem.” Matsumoto answered sadly. She exchanged a long look with Momo, who also looked saddened, then smiled at the four before her.

“Just a moment.” she said, apologizing. “The third member of our group is...well, having confidence issues for lack of a better word. Hence the hidden reiatsu.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow.

“Confidence issues? Why?” he asked, baffled. Matsumoto sighed.

“Well...this person is going through a transition at the moment, and we’re not entirely sure if anyone will respond to this positively...thus said person is somewhat people-shy at the moment...” she explained uneasily. Ichigo’s face suddenly changed.

“Oh.” he said eloquently, and Orihime cocked her head to the side.

“Um...Rangiku-san, what kind of transition are you talking about?” the sweet seventeen-year-old asked. Matsumoto fidgeted a bit, glancing back at Urahara’s shop.

“A...a gender transition. They’re questioning their gender identity right now so they’re experimenting-”

Ichigo and Rukia burst into loud laughter, and Chad smiled. Orihime giggled behind a hand.

“Matsumoto-fukutaicho, Ichigo is bisexual, and Chad is gay.” Rukia said, grinning. “And there’s a lesbian girl in his class that can’t keep her hands off Orihime-chan’s chest. The human world can handle a gender-questioning person if it can handle two guys making out.”

Matsumoto and Momo stared, and Ichigo grinned.

“Yeah, I know. My dad freaked when I told him, but he’s an idiot anyway, and he got over it pretty quick.” the orange-haired teenager said, smirking. “Chad and I actually were dating up until a few months ago.”

Momo gasped.

“Oh...oh, I’m sorry...” she said, her voice small, but both Chad and Ichigo smiled.

“It’s fine.” Chad said in his deep, calm voice. “We are still friends. Our relationship simply changed. It did not shatter.”

Momo smiled.

“Oh, thank goodness.” she said, her expression bright. Then she also looked over her shoulder at the door.

“If you heard that, then come on out!” she called cheerfully. “Don’t make me start calling you nicknames!”

Inside the door, a smooth, cool voice answered in a sharp shout.

“Don’t you dare, Bedwetter Momo!”

Hinamori went stiff.

“Mou, Shiro-chan! Rude!” she fired back, and the dawning realization on Rukia’s face culminated in a collective gasp from all four of the Living-World group as a petite young woman with an edgy white pixie-bob stepped out from behind the door, blushing faintly, a grinning Yoruichi and chuckling Urahara visible in the store behind her. The sound of four jaws hitting the ground in quick succession echoed in the courtyard.

Toushiro stalked forward, dressed in a pair of black, high-top converse and a pretty lilac skater-dress patterned with black fleur-de-lis. A black headband held half of his white hair away from his face, accentuating the feminine curve of his facial features.

“Oh god...” Ichigo muttered, watching the young crossdresser stormed forward and proceeded to berate a grinning Momo for the nickname incident. Rukia sidled up to him, gave him a knowing look, then smiled widely.

“Hitsugaya-taicho!” she said, greeting the crossdressing captain with a deep bow. Toushiro jumped, just then realizing that he had an audience. He swallowed hard.

“Kuchiki...” he said, the sweet gold of his tan draining away. She bowed again.

“Hitsugaya-taicho, would you prefer me to address you as sir or ma’am?” she asked with a smile, and all the tension suddenly went out of the young captain’s shoulders. The emerald of his eyes went soft and he sighed.

“I still use male pronouns for now.” he said, shifting a bit. “...I’m just experimenting, like Matsumoto said.”

Ichigo sighed, drawing all the attention to him.

“Pity you’re not certain yet.” he said, grinning at Hitsugaya with a wide grin. “You’re damn beautiful in a dress.”

Scarlet washed over Toushiro’s cheeks and his mouth fell open in a pretty pink ‘o’ of astonishment. Orihime and Chad laughed a bit, and as Matsumoto and Hinamori grinned behind him, Hitsugaya wrapped his arms around his feminized body and allowed a smile to twitch at his lips.

“...thank you, Kurosaki.” he said, and Ichigo shrugged.

“What?” he asked. “You were hot as a guy too. Gender doesn’t really bother me.”

Toushiro blushed again, scowling uncertainly at the ground, and Matsumoto stepped forward, draping an arm over her captain’s shoulders.

“Taicho, Hinamori, and I were going to go shopping and get him a few things to smuggle back to Seireitei so he can ‘experiment’ during his time at home without having to come all the way out here.” she said, smiling. “Do you want to come along?”

Rukia smiled and flashed a peace sign.

“I’m in!” she said ecstatically. “Shopping’s not usually my thing, but this sounds like a lot of fun!”

Orihime nodded.

“Me too!” she said, smiling brightly. Ichigo sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“I suppose you’ll need someone to carry everything.” he said. Chad looked at him for a long moment, then turned a soulful, dark brown gaze onto Hitsugaya. Something knowing seemed to flare up in his eyes. Then he bowed a bit

“If you’ll excuse me...I must buy groceries.” he said. Matsumoto pouted, and Ichigo frowned.

“You sure, Chad?” the substitute shinigami asked. The broad-shouldered teenager nodded.

“Of course. And Ichigo...” Chad leaned over and whispered something in Ichigo’s ear - something that made the teenager freeze in place and turn a brilliant shade of crimson. The shinigami and Orihime watched with interest as Ichigo spluttered and pushed the taller boy away.

“Chad!” he hissed, but the half-Mexican teenager only smiled enigmatically and walked off, leaving Ichigo with the group of girls and the crossdressing captain. He sighed.

“Alright. I’m the bag boy.” he said, resigned, and Matsumoto squealed and wrapped her arms around the teenager, who flailed.

“Yay! Thanks, Ichigo-kun!” the busty woman squeaked. Toushiro stepped forward, a pang of annoyance flaring in his chest.

“Oi, Matsumoto! You’re suffocating him!”

The bouncy lieutenant let the seventeen-year-old boy go and seized her captain’s slender hand.

“Come on, Taicho, let’s get you some pretty things!”

Toushiro sighed, but allowed a smile to break apart his icy scowl and the group of six darted off towards the nearest mall, led by Matsumoto.

Chapter Text

“The blue one looks really good on you, Toushiro.” Ichigo said, watching as the young captain - at Matsumoto’s behest - showed off the off-the-shoulder dress he was currently trying on. Ichigo had been deemed the ‘judge’ by Matsumoto and Rukia, and so he sat just outside the changing rooms with his legs crossed, giving his opinion on each new outfit as the girls and Toushiro came forward and asked.

Toushiro blushed and spun around, causing the skirt of the rich blue skater-dress to flare out, the geometric pattern on its surface rippling. Ichigo grinned.

“Seriously, you’re killing it.” he said, and Toushiro stopped, facing the orange-headed substitute, smiling faintly.

“You don’t have to compliment me so often.” he said, and Ichigo rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I do.” he returned, then shifted his attention to his dark-haired shinigami friend. “Rukia, I don’t know if that cotton-candy pink is really your color. Maybe try something a shade cooler?”

Rukia considered his advice for a moment.

“How about an ice-pink?” she asked. Ichigo seemed to agree.

“Probably, if you can find that color.” he confirmed, watching Rukia disappear back into the large boutique they were in. Toushiro looked at him in amazement.

“How do you know so much about women’s clothing?” he questioned, puzzled, and Ichigo smiled at the young captain.

“Two little sisters.” he said with a grin. “I take them shopping now ‘cause our dad is insane. Karin looks a lot like Rukia and Hinamori-san so I’m using her color palate to help, and Yuzu is...oh, she has a few more shades of honey in her skin, so she’s more like Rangiku-san or Inoue.”

Toushiro raised a thin white eyebrow.

“So whose color palate are you using on me?” he asked, curious. Ichigo’s face went a bit red, and he grinned sheepishly.

“You...well...er, that I’m just calling like I see it.” he admitted, his tone a tad shamefaced though he was grinning like an idiot. “You’re...er, your tan is darker and golder than anything my family can pull off.”

The ice-spirit tipped his head to the side.

“So you’re winging it?” he asked, and Ichigo nodded.

“Yeah...” he said. “But I’m not lying. That blue looks stunning on you.”

Toushiro, who hadn’t realized up until that exact moment how close he’d drifted to the taller boy, went a beautiful shade of golden-rose. His lips moved soundlessly, gaping up at Ichigo’s sincere expression. Then he ducked his head and looked away, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

“Moron.” he scoffed, and Ichigo grinned stupidly, laughing.

Matsumoto watched her captain carefully, folding the patterned blouse she’d just tried on and putting her borrowed purple dress back on. Hitsugaya seemed to be enjoying himself, though not because of the clothes. She watched the slight bounce in the skirt of the dress he was wearing as he shifted, smiling faintly up at Kurosaki. Her expression softened.

Rukia sidled up next to the blonde woman.

“You see it too?” the Kuchiki princess asked, her voice barely a whisper. Matsumoto nodded.

“Taicho’s always admired Ichigo-kun.” Matsumoto hissed back, in awe. “But...I didn’t know it was like that...”

Rukia giggled under her breath.

“Oh, Ichigo’s totally smitten.” she said, grinning. “He’s acting completely dopey. All they need is a little push...”

Matsumoto shook her head, frowning.

“Taicho isn’t like that.” she said, looking slightly upset. “He’ll shut down pretty quick if we make a big deal out of this. Let it happen naturally.”

Rukia gave the buxom lieutenant a sharp look.

“You’re not going to play matchmaker?” she asked. “That’s a first...”

Momo bounded up beside them, a pretty yellow dress folded over her arm.

“Rangiku-san is right, Kuchiki-san.” she said, smiling. “My brother doesn’t open up easily. The best way to push him into something is to leave him alone.”

She turned then and waved at her brother.

“Shiro-chan, are you going to get that?” she asked. Toushiro spun on his heel, looking at her, then snuck a glance at Ichigo, contemplating.

“...yeah, I think so.” he said, smoothing down the skirt of the dress with a partially hidden smile. His thick white bangs obscured the glint of cheer in his sparking emerald eyes. “And the black skirt too.”

Momo clapped her hands together.

“And the cute green shirt that goes with it?” she asked. Toushiro shrugged.

“Okay.” he said. “Then what next?”

Momo smiled.

“Shoes, of course.” she said with a bright smile. “You can’t run around in modern clothes while wearing waraji - it’s weird.”

Toushiro started chewing on his lower lip, glancing down at the black Converse on his feet.

“I...I kinda like these.” he said, and Momo rolled her eyes.

“Well, we can get you a pair of those, then.” she said with a smile. “But those are Ururu’s - you can’t keep them.”

Toushiro raised an eyebrow in his sister’s direction and crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot twice on the store’s tile floor.

“I’m well aware of that.” he said crisply, and Momo nodded.

“Okay then. You go change back into the dress Ururu-chan lent you, and everyone give me their purchases so I can go pay.”

The girls quickly changed back into the original clothes that they’d worn, then came back out of the dressing rooms with their items in tow, which were promptly passed to Momo, who went up to pay for them. Then the group - Ichigo graciously toting their bags - went to buy shoes. Momo and Rukia ended up not getting anything, and Matsumoto was berated by her captain into leaving the pair of glitzy high heels alone, but Orihime bought herself a pair of warm brown boots, and Toushiro got the high-top Converse he liked in the same shade of pitch black. But then they all left for Urahara’s shop. They had to drop off their gigai and convert the clothing to reishi so they could be worn in Soul Society. Urahara was more than happy to do that for them, and after Yoruichi hissed at him, in her human form no less, he converted their purchases entirely free of charge.

Ichigo watched as Hinamori bounced back through the Senkaimon in her shihakusho, followed closely by Matsumoto, then cleared his throat just before Toushiro stepped back through.

“...Er, Toushiro?” he asked. The haori-clad captain spun around, his hair spiked up again. He seemed almost exactly like his old self then, cold and commanding, but Ichigo took a deep breath, holding the picture of the blushing young crossdresser firmly in his mind. He gathered his confidence.

“Yes, Kurosaki?” the young man asked curiously, blinking owlishly. Ichigo grinned sheepishly.

“You know, if you come back to the Living World, call me.” he said finally, smiling. “I don’t know what you’re doing to try and figure yourself out...but my sisters have a ton of movies, and there’s an amusement park not far from here. And then there’s the beach, if you want to try that again no that it’s not so hot outside. It’s a pretty nice to picnic in the fall.”

Toushiro tipped his head to the side, the ghost of a smile passing across his gold-toned face.

“...thank you, Kurosaki. I’ll keep that in mind.” the ice-captain said. Ichigo grinned.

“And if you decide to do anything crazy in Seireitei, invite me!” he exclaimed, smirking. “I’d be totally up for wreaking some havoc.”

Toushiro laughed, his haori billowing around his ankles.

“Your very presence causes havoc, Kurosaki.” he said, and his heart skipped a beat at the brilliant smile on the half-human teenager’s face. “...but I suppose Seireitei could handle it.”

He turned back into the bright glow of the Senkaimon and with a slightly shy wave over his shoulder, bid the human teenager goodbye and sped back to Soul Society. Somewhere ahead of him, Matsumoto and Hinamori shared a knowing look, and immediately began texting Rukia.

They had a couple to ship.

Toushiro stared. And stared. And stared. His reflection stared back at him with equal incredulity, his torso suddenly slightly terrifying. With agonizing lassitude, he turned into profile and cursed under his breath. It wasn’t noticeable through the bulk of his shihakusho, but in only the shitagi...his chest definitely looked like it was starting to swell. It suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Girls hit puberty sooner on average than guys did. Like, years sooner. And Unohana had said during his last checkup as a male that he would be showing signs of puberty that year. Which meant...

He slumped to the ground and leaned back against the footrest of his bed, wrapping his arms around himself and gasping in distress at the feel of the slight, still-developing curves hidden beneath his shitagi. This would make it almost impossible to hide his reassigned gender, and then it was only a matter of time before the noble houses started to harass him - and harass him they would, probably to the point of calling for his arrest and dishonorable discharge. He buried his face in his hands, trying to hold himself together.

Could he do this? When he’d come up with his plan to slowly slide his feminine traits into his daily routine, he hadn’t considered that he might be working under a time constraint. He’d thought that he’d be able to gradually reveal his true self to his men and colleagues. But...

Someone knocked softly on his door, and he recognized the gentle ashy flicker of his lieutenant’s reiatsu and the concerned warmth of Ukitake’s flare of power. “Taicho, are you alright?”

He realized then that it was nearing ten o’clock and he had yet to report in to work. No wonder those two were concerned. Shakily, he answered.

“I-I’m fine, Matsumoto.” he said, cursing the tremble in his words. Matsumoto’s voice drifted down his hallway again, the worry in her tone clearly evident.

“Taicho, can Ukitake-taicho and I come in?” she asked. Toushiro took a deep breath.

“Yeah...”

The sound of his front door being unlocked and sliding open was painfully audible, but thankfully the sound of his door closing came quickly after that, and he heard Matsumoto flit lightly down the hall leading to his bedroom, Ukitake just behind her. She slipped inside his room quietly, blue gaze flashing worry, then dropped down to his side and wrapped her arms around him. He shuddered reflexively, confused as to why he was feeling so terribly anxious, and Ukitake, who had entered the room just behind his lieutenant, flared his reiatsu and gently anchored his younger colleague.

“Taicho...?” she murmured. He swallowed hard.

“D-do you feel it, Matsumoto?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “Oh...oh hell, I don’t know what to do. It’s only been two weeks...”

Matsumoto hugged him more tightly, then froze. Ukitake watched, baffled, as the woman dropped her hands and put them on her captain’s shoulders.

“Oh...” she breathed. “Oh, Toushiro...”

He stiffened at the sound of his name washing over him, and Ukitake - saint that he was - broke into the silence with a worried kindness so like him that Hitsugaya felt his sudden burst of unexplained anxiety melt away.

“Matsumoto-san, Hitsugaya-kun, what’s wrong?” he asked, brown eyes shining, and Toushiro choked out a gasping giggle.

“Oh...shit, I’ve hit puberty.” he said weakly. “Holy crap...”

Matsumoto laughed faintly, burying her head in her captain’s shoulder, and Ukitake’s eyes rounded out in innocent understanding.

“Taicho, don’t you ever scare us like that again.” Matsumoto said, half-serious. “And here I thought you’d been murdered when you didn’t show up to the office.”

Ukitake sat down across from the pair of Tenth Division officers with a terribly relieved sigh, then shook his head.

“My goodness.” he said faintly. “And you’ve been turned into a young woman, no less...”

“How...How the hell am I going to hide this from my subordinates?” Toushiro asked feebly, his expression helpless. Ukitake raised an eyebrow.

“So you let the gag order stand?” he asked curiously, and Hitsugaya nodded, threading his hands through his white hair.

“For now.” he said. “It’s going to end up explaining a lot of my behavior to my subordinates when I reveal what happened later on...”

Ukitake raised and eyebrow at the comment, and Toushiro shot a glare of askance in Matsumoto’s direction. She huffed, sitting back on her heels.

“Taicho, I told you already, I won’t spill the beans without your permission!” she said indignantly. Hitsugaya raised a thin white eyebrow.

“What about Inoue, Kuchiki, Yasutora and Kurosaki?” Toushiro sniped back. “You told them pretty easily.”

“I didn’t mention your name - Hinamori-chan did.” Matsumoto sniffed. “Besides, they were all more than willing to help you out!”

“I know, I know...” Toushiro said, exasperatedly, then glanced up at Ukitake who was still staring at him curiously, obviously puzzled by Hitsugaya’s need to ‘explain his behavior.’ The older captain tipped his head to the side, blinking owlishly.

“Hitsugaya-kun, why would you need to explain your behavior?” he asked, befuddled, his kind face screwed up in childlike confusion. Toushiro looked past him at the cream wall and the tall mahogany wardrobe, biting his lower lip. This would be his first time actually telling someone else of his status, and while he knew that he could trust Ukitake...he wasn’t sure how the usually-conservative man would take the news. Ukitake had never weighed in on the gender/sexual minority debate, but he had shown surprising vigor when it came to more traditionally conservative ideals, especially when it came to Seireitei’s budget.

“Hitsugaya-kun?”

“I’m gender-questioning.” Toushiro said without preamble. Ukitake jerked in shock. “I have been for the past twenty years and I might end up being transgender.”

The older captain appeared to be at a complete loss for words for several minutes, and Toushiro kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground, but finally the older man broke the silence.

“I...I see.” he said quietly, staring. “I...I was not expecting that.”

Toushiro looked up to see that Ukitake’s expression was a curious mix of pity and kindhearted sympathy. The senior captain sighed deeply, his gaze saddening.

“I cannot say that I support this, you understand.” the tall captain said quietly, and Hitsugaya felt the blow to his heart acutely, his entire body aching. Ukitake sighed, then smiled, the expression slight and uncertain but there all the same.

“However.” he said gently. “While I cannot support your transition, neither will I condemn it. You were always a fine young man. If you choose to become a young woman, I’m sure you will be a credit to the female gender.”

He laid a hand on his colleague’s shoulder.

“I cannot support your transition.” he said sadly. “But I will always support you. I hope that you understand the distinction. And I know that I’ve probably hurt you. I understand if you don’t wish to speak with me after this. Just...just know that I will always be your friend, no matter who you choose to become.”

Toushiro’s jade gaze was slightly damp, and he nodded slowly, his expression wounded to the quick. He took a deep breath.

“...It’s okay, Ukitake.” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Everyone is entitled to their own views. I suppose we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

The sickly captain’s white hair swung gently as the older shinigami dipped his head.

“I want you to know that I will respect your wishes if you change your name or begin referring to yourself as a female.” he said softly. “If you choose to become a ‘she’ I will not fight that. It is your right. But...”

Toushiro looked up.

“I know.” he murmured. “You don’t agree with it. And you’re right...that does hurt. It hurts a lot. But I think I can forgive you for it, Ukitake. After all...while you might not be supportive, you’re accepting at the very least, and I have a feeling that many will not be even as kind as you are.”

The older captain breathed a sigh of relief, then cracked a smile.

“Shunsui will love it.” he said, smiling. “You should let him know about this, if you choose to tell anyone besides me and Matsumoto-san. He was gender-questioning once upon a time as well. He decided to remain male fairly quickly, but ever since he’s liked wearing those pink kimonos over his uniform. This news will make him so happy.”

Toushiro laughed a little bit, then wiped at his watering eyes.

“Is there anyone who will be directly opposed to me?” he asked shakily. Ukitake’s smile fell.

“Yes, unfortunately.” he sighed. “The Vizard-captains won’t care, but it’s almost a certainty that Sasakibe-fukutaicho will take personal offense, as may Omaeda-fukutaicho and Iba-fukutaicho. Yamamoto-soutaicho may also be initially opposed to it, but he has an extremely distinct soft spot for you. I believe having a granddaughter may be even more appealing to him than having a grandson is.”

Toushiro’s head shot up, and he stared. Ukitake laughed.

“Oh, haven’t you noticed?” he asked, smiling broadly. “Yamamoto-soutaicho tries very hard not to show it, but when he’s with Shunsui, Retsu and I, he dotes on you. Every conversation we have he ends up bringing you into. In fact, he and Retsu may already suspect. I know that Shunsui and I were wondering about your gender preferences for a little bit. Heaven knows that you possessing Hyourinmaru didn’t help - that dragon has had almost exclusively female wielders in the past.”

Matsumoto giggled brightly behind her hand. She’d been fairly nervous over Ukitake’s reaction to her captain’s uncertainty, but it seemed that while the disagreement had been painful, the two Shiro-chans would retain a strong friendship. Thank goodness.

“No wonder he agreed so easily when I asked for Taicho to have permission to spend some of his free time in Karakura Town!” the lieutenant laughed. Toushiro went a pretty shade of pink and crossed his arms over his burgeoning chest, scowling. Ukitake laughed and stood up, pulling Matsumoto and then Toushiro up with him.

“Drop by my office later this week, won’t you, Hitsugaya-kun?” he asked with a smile. “We’ll have tea and spend a few hours out by the pond. The koi are growing magnificently large!”

Toushiro smiled genuinely, his earlier upset seeming to dim somewhat as he realized that the difference in opinion concerning his gender-identity would not break the friendship that he and the older Shiro-chan shared.

“That sounds wonderful.” he said. “Hinamori and I are baking on Thursday, so would Friday work? I’ll bring you some of whatever we decide to bake.”

Ukitake clapped his hands together.

“Perfect!” he cheered. “Oh, I just knew you had a sweet tooth!”

Toushiro rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly. He hadn’t meant to admit that.

“Just dark chocolate, really.” he said hurriedly, not wanting the overly kind Ukitake to shovel truckloads of candies on him again. “It’s my one weakness, and only in small amounts.”

Ukitake smiled broadly.

“Then I’ll have to be sure I have some on hand when you come over!” he said, smiling, and drifted out the door.

“Wait, Ukitake, not too many, otherwise-”

“See you later, Hitsugaya-kun!”

Toushiro watched the man Shunpo away from his front door with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He buried his face in his hands and glared at Matsumoto, who was still laughing.

“He’s probably going to buy out an entire chocolate store!” Matsumoto giggled uncontrollably. Toushiro groaned.

“I know, dammit.”

Chapter Text

The rest of the week passed relatively uneventfully, much to Hitsugaya’s surprise. He ended up attending one of Kuchiki-taicho’s calligraphy classes and one of Unohana-taicho’s ikebana tutorials, and had even managed to slip off to the Living World again to buy a pair of dark skinny-jeans. Then on Thursday, he and Hinamori baked enough chocolate-chip cookies to feed an army, then spent the remainder of the evening eating them alongside Matsumoto as she gave the siblings makeup tutorials. Toushiro had been very confused by the concept of foundation at first - he hadn’t realized that the stuff was supposed to be spread over his entire face. But he’d learned quickly, and very soon Matsumoto and Hinamori both learned that he had a spectacular eye for lipstick choices.

They’d washed the stuff off their faces before going home, and Hinamori had taken a box of the cookies home, as had Matsumoto. Toushiro caught the seniormost of his Fifth Seats, who happened to be walking by as the pair of girls were leaving, giving the three a funny look, but all it took was one cool glance from his captain before he was on his way again.

After that, however, Hitsugaya knew the rumor mill would start up.

He sighed, stretching, then rolled out of bed. Saturday mornings were lazy mornings, he thought cynically. He didn’t work weekends unless it was an emergency, like most of the shinigami in Seireitei, and there hadn’t been a significant emergency since Aizen had been thrown in prison.

It was nice having a few days to himself, Toushiro thought with a smile, padding into his kitchen in his sleeping yukata, the cold tile pleasantly cool on his bare feet. He made himself a warm cup of his favorite tea, then headed into his living room, curling up on the couch with his feet tucked underneath him. He watched the sun rise behind Sokyoku Hill with a distinct draconic contentment, sipping on the tea in his hands, and once the sun had broken the horizon and his cup was empty, he got up off his comfortable couch and returned to his bedroom to change into his clothes.

He came out with his Zanpakutou purring on his back, the darkness of his black workout-gear broken by the bright gold chain tying Hyourinmaru’s sheath to his back. He usually trained on Saturday mornings, and today would be no different, save for one thing. The young captain shifted uncomfortably, the tight wrapping around his chest restricting his breathing somewhat. He’d gone to see Unohana earlier that week, almost immediately upon noticing the swelling of his chest. The Fourth Division captain had frowned, ran a test or two upon his hormone levels, and came back thirty minutes later to inform him that he was undergoing an accelerated version of puberty, and that he’d likely be fully developed within six months.

Toushiro remembered the conversation with no little apprehension. Apparently he’d been early to hit puberty even for a boy, and when he’d been turned into a girl that early-bloomer genome had remained intact. Thus, the accelerated puberty. His body was trying to catch up.

Unohana had kindly showed him how to wrap his quickly-growing chest, as most young female shinigami did during their pubescent years, and then explained to him how and why women also had to wear bras. It had been a slightly uncomfortable conversation, but thankfully everything had been entirely professional and he hadn’t blushed too badly.

Hyourinmaru hummed in his mind.

“You are enjoying this, hatchling.” he observed in his endlessly patient, gentle way. Despite being terrifying in appearance, vicious in rumor, deadly in theory, and massive beyond rational thought, Hyourinmaru was extremely benevolent, and Toushiro could barely remember a time when he’d feared the dragon Zanpakutou.

Toushiro left his house in a puff of Shunpo, his mind focused on the thrumming contact with his Zanpakutou spirit.

“Of course.” he replied, a smirk flickering over his face like cool flame. “Being myself isn’t something I can do often.”

“Not just that, hatchling.” the dragon reminded him gently. “You’re enjoying the experience and support that others are showing you. Even Ukitake-taicho’s acceptance, while painful on the surface, made you inwardly glow.”

“It’s a nice departure from the judging atmosphere that’s surrounded me almost my entire life. Odd considering the topic, but still...” Toushiro thought back, landing lightly on the top of the shoulder-high stone wall that surrounded the Tenth Division’s training grounds. The field was mostly empty today - only a few of his men were present, and they seemed to be focused on the Kido range. Everyone knew better than to get in their captain’s way when he wanted to train.

“...You are discovering who you are, little one.” Hyourinmaru told him gently, the dragon stretching his great wings within his master’s inner world. “And you are beginning to understand yourself more thoroughly.”

“...This will affect my Bankai, won’t it?” Toushiro asked, understanding implicitly what his Zanpakutou was trying to tell him. Hyourinmaru’s hum of approval resounded in the icy blizzard inside his master’s frozen soul.

“And your Shikai.” the dragon informed him gently. “Your power - and by extension, my power - is deeply tied to your knowledge of your true self.”

Toushiro frowned, drawing the long blade with a flick of his wrist, and glanced critically at the long silver shaft.

“I have heard of no other Zanpakutou who demands a similar effort from their wielder.” Toushiro thought, remembering what Yoruichi had said about Hyourinmaru’s previous appearance. “Does this have something to do with dragon-Zanpakutou being primarily wielded by women?”

Hyourinmaru’s answering purr was slightly ominous.

“...Yes and no.” he answered quietly, ice flaking from the icy blade’s hilt and creeping over his master’s hands. “The dragon is the mark of the King - this you already know. As such, dragon-Zanpakutou are generally several times more powerful than normal Zanpakutou. Yamamoto-soutaicho is the perfect example of this. However, a male wielding a dragon-Zanpakutou will always be weaker than a female wielding the same spirit, and because of this dragons are usually found reincarnated alongside female versions of their shinigami.”

“Why are males and females unequal?” Toushiro thought, baffled. He’d entered into a series of kata while he and Hyourinmaru spoke, and so was able to fully concentrate on the conversation. Hyourinmaru’s gleaming length cut sharply through the misting air.

“Unequal is not the proper term, hatchling.” Hyourinmaru scolded him gently. “No; it is rather an imbalance. Think of it this way - if a female wielded a phoenix-Zanpakutou, she would be weaker than a male with the same Zanpakutou spirit. It is because the soul must have a balance. The phoenix, which represents the Queen, is a feminine spirit, and thus requires a male shinigami for balance. Dragons are the opposite.”

“I’ve never heard of a phoenix-Zanpakutou before...and come to think of it, I can’t remember a single female shinigami possessing a dragon Zanpakutou before me...” Toushiro said frowning. Hyourinmaru sighed.

“Both dragons and phoenixes are exceedingly rare, but the only reason that you know of two dragon-Zanpakutou - myself included - are because the wielders were born male. And you have known OF one phoenix-Zanpakutou, though I believe the spirit herself was permanently sealed.” Hyourinmaru said. Suddenly his tone changed to one of warning, a careful note of concern entering his usual growl. “Hatchling, I must ask that after you choose to embrace the female sex, keep your mouth shut about it until you have mastered your completed Bankai.”

“What? Why?” Toushiro thought, silently releasing the first, weaker half of his Shikai. The chain and attached moon-blade spun out from Hyourinmaru’s hilt, and he seized the chain, swirling the moon-blade about himself several times in a series of complicated practice movements.

“As Yoruichi-san told you...all of your previous reincarnations were female.” the dragon said grimly. “And of the dragon-Zanpakutou, I am the most powerful. There are those within Seireitei who greatly covet the dragons’ true power, and they will do anything to gain it. This includes kidnapping and forced marriages. None of your previous reincarnations managed to achieve Shikai before being captured. However...of all those who covet the dragons, the Royal Family will be your most dangerous adversary. Long ago, the dragon-Zanpakutou and phoenix-Zanpakutou were reincarnated alongside their family members, but when they fell into corruption, we abandoned them and moved elsewhere in an attempt to give rise to a new royal line. But ever since, they have been trying to breed the dragons’ power back into their bloodline. All of your previous reincarnations - a few willingly, most by force - bore the children of the Soul Princes. And on top of this, their Zanpakutou spirits were forcibly sealed, drastically crippling their power.”

Toushiro didn’t notice that he’d stopped moving, or that his breath was puffing out in tiny clouds. He could only gape helplessly at his blade.

“Holy shit...” he gasped. “...you mean...when I come out as transgender...”

“They will be extremely likely to attempt to marry you, yes, and if you resist, they will indeed attempt rape. And if they succeed, you and I will be separated. That is why I wish for you to be able to hold your own. No master of mine will ever again be taken or forced by that corrupt bloodline!!” Hyourinmaru snarled. Then the dragon calmed, though his anger was still noticeable. “...Although stressing that you are transgender may help them think twice.”

Toushiro shifted his hands to grip the chain and released his grip on the hilt of his blade. He’d been practicing this style of fighting recently, and as he glared at one of the targets on the far side of the field he snapped his right hand forward. His blade went flying forward and with a sickening thud buried itself up to the hilt in the faraway wooden spot. He grinned darkly, then jerked his hand back, pulling Hyourinmaru effortlessly back into his hand.

“You won’t have to worry about me.” Toushiro reassured his dragon with a malicious smirk. “If anyone so much as looks at me wrong without permission, I’ll run them through just like that tree stump I just skewered.”

Hyourinmaru rumbled pleasantly, satisfied by his master’s promise, and then allowed his power to swell through Toushiro’s young mind as the young captain drew on his reiatsu.

“Reign over the frosted heavens, Hyourinmaru!” he called, and brought his blade crashing through the reiatsu-thickened atmosphere. Ice and water flowed from the length of his blade, and he leapt into the air, landing lightly upon Hyourinmaru’s icy back, reiatsu flaring, fully intent upon (once again) destroying the training grounds. But then he froze. He felt ice creeping up his back, through his white hair, and down his spinal column. A tail - a dragon’s tail - made of ice now snaked from the base of his spine, and a hard sheen of clear, crystalline ice had solidified over his torso, protecting his vital organs. And when he reached up and gently touched his head, he felt three delicate spires of silvered ice protruding in fine filigree patterns from his frost-tipped white hair, slowly melding together into...

“Hyourinmaru...is that a crown?!”

“You are royalty by the value of your soul, ice princess. And together with me, you will reign over the frosted heavens.”

“Oh my god, you did not just call me that...”

Hyourinmaru’s laughter was good-natured, and so Toushiro swung his sword down with a sweet, terrifyingly vicious smile, sending the massive dragon furrowing through the earth with indigo ice-flowers sprouting every place the beast’s breath touched. He could feel the soothing thrum of his power sweeping over him like an avalanche, fatally cold, and as he allowed Hyourinmaru’s icy Shikai form to soar into the gathering storm he saw that every place Hyourinmaru’s serpentine body had touched was covered in snow and ice, the indigo flowers blooming beautifully cold on his myriad targets.

And Hyourinmaru’s ice body still hadn’t shattered.

He sucked in a breath of frozen air and slowly allowed his Shikai to evaporate. The single attack had been much stronger than any of his previous Shikai releases, and he could feel his own reiatsu cloaked densely about him, thicker and cold than it had ever been before. Lightning cracked in the sky above him, and he looked up, saw the brewing blizzard there and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve never been in tune with the weather to such an extent. Nor has my Shikai provided me with any defensive capabilities before this.” he commented lightly to his Zanpakutou, closing his eyes, and gently leeched his reiatsu from the clouds over head, turning the furiously building storm into a scattered array of grey rainclouds - harmless and refreshing.

“As I said, you are beginning to understand yourself.” Hyourinmaru replied gently. “And that makes a world of difference.”

“Hitsugaya-taicho! Hitsugaya-taicho!”

Startled by the sudden call, the young ice-captain looked up from his frozen-solid bottle of water, which he had been attempting to thaw out for the past minute and a half (it was still kind of slushy). He was breathing somewhat heavily, as he’d been training non-stop for the past three hours, but as his Third Seat ran up to him, gasping for breath and panicking, he felt a wave of utter calm wash over him.

“What’s wrong, Takahashi?” he asked, sighing deeply and running his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. He felt sticky and disgusting, but considering the expression of sheer panic on his Third Seat’s usually-stoic face he didn’t think he’d have time to shower first.

“...Hollows...in District 44.” she panted out. “Just got the Hell Butterfly...the patrol is overrun!”

Toushiro shot to his feet and took hold of his Third Seat’s arm, urgent distress clearly visible in those green depths.

“Get a message to Matsumoto.” he said. “Tell her I’ve gone to take care of the Hollows, and that she is to follow me with a trauma team and at least one other seated officer’s squad for backup. And you might want to let her know that I’m not in uniform.”

Takahashi bowed deeply as her captain Shunpoed away.

“Yes sir!”

He barely heard her, the wind roaring in his ears as he shot through Seireitei towards his overrun men. The stirrings of anger, protective and fierce, were beginning the familiar curl through his chest, and he could feel the dragon coiled in his soul rumbling in thunderous fury.

He shot through the gates with an effortless bound, the black of his workout gear stark against the white of the sekkiseki wall behind him. Hyourinmaru, unsheathed in his slender hands, gleamed brightly. He could feel his heart pumping beneath his skin, feel his blood cooling slowly, turning to sluggish red ice in his veins. He was stretching himself, that much he could tell just by the quickening beat of his heart and the slight buzz of fatigue in his limbs, but he pushed onward, intent only on getting to his men.

“Toushiro!”

Ichigo’s shout of surprise - why was he in Rukongai? - rang in his ears, but even though he felt his cheeks warm at the thought of Ichigo’s ginger hair, soulful, warm-brown eyes, and strong, chiseled features he kept going. Behind him, Ichigo’s Hollow-rimmed wildness spun around in distress, then gave chase.

Toushiro ignored him, bursting into District 44 with his breath puffing cold from his lips. He looked around wildly, the stench of Hollow thick about the place, then let out a wordless howl of wretched fury upon seeing the limp bodies of half-eaten civilians strewn about the central square. He could hear the screams of his men, some softened by death’s approach, and with a second agonized cry he tore into the throng of Hollows circling his wearied men and the shivering huddle of civilians gathered behind them.

Seven beasts fell to Hyourinmaru’s icy bite before the mindless creatures turned, and he snarled viciously. These were his subordinates! He’d be damned before he let them be killed!

The Hollows howled and charged him, abandoning their prey for the denser, thicker reiryoku of the young captain, and Toushiro dodged the myriad claws and fangs with ease, slicing and dicing any offending Hollow that came too close. He swept out his moon-blade and chain effortlessly, throwing his sword like a javelin without a second thought and spearing three Hollows through their masks, the screeches of pain echoing his ears. With a sharp tug on the chain he pulled his blade back into his hands and swung, cleaving through another Hollow that had attacked him from behind

He finished off several more of the Hollows, decimating their numbers, and soon the remaining ten Hollows fled into the forest bordering District 44. Then, and only then, did he turn to his men, breathing hard, his chest heaving. He couldn’t deny being tired, but the Hollows were a nice distraction from the slog of training.

The least injured of his men approached him and bowed shallowly, the bleeding gash in his thigh hindering his movement.

“Hitsugaya-taicho...” he choked out. “We have five wounded and three dead... The civilian who took shelter behind us are fine, however I don’t know how many survivors there are elsewhere...”

Toushiro nodded, feeling the flare of his lieutenant’s reiatsu meet up with Ichigo’s blazing, uncontrolled power about ten minutes away, and then head towards him at the same concerned rate.

“Matsumoto is on her way with backup and a medical team.” he said. “And it seems that Kurosaki has decided to poke his nose into this mess as well. You did what you could - now see to your friends.”

The man limped painfully away, and Toushiro turned just in time to see Kurosaki burst from the trees, Matsumoto just behind him. He smiled faintly at the handsome carrot-top, and for some reason he saw Matsumoto’s eyes gleam as she saw the expression on his face.

But then he saw the Adjuchas, somehow hiding its reiatsu, sailing towards Ichigo from behind, and all the color left his face. Matsumoto’s yell of warning echoed hollowly in his ears, because Ichigo was turning too slowly, and the Adjuchas had its long, spearlike tail extended, out to pierce the substitute through, the pointed tip mere feet from the half-shinigami’s back.

“Ichigo!”

The scream reverberated from the young captain’s lips and he jumped, eyes wide in something that could only be described as terror. Kurosaki stared at him helplessly, his hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutou, but he wouldn’t be quick enough to draw, the barbed spear only inches away from the orange-headed teen’s face...

But then it stopped.

Matsumoto’s shriek of despair was agonizing. Toushiro took a shallow breath, gasping weakly and howled.

“Reign over the frosted heavens, Hyourinmaru!!”

The massive dragon of ice and water exploded from his Zanpakutou, and he felt the still-unfamiliar tail, chestplate, and crown of ice creep over his skin. He snarled, and with a crash of snow and ice and the chilling bite of winter, the dragon’s icy jaws tore the Adjuchas completely in two, an effortless deathblow.

Indigo blossoms swept across the ground, and bloomed gently beneath his feet, a winter glacier of thin ice and frost spreading around them in a mile radius, but then his reiryoku started draining away and his Shikai faded. He felt cold, and as the spear-tail in his right lung disintegrated he felt his legs give way beneath him.

Ichigo caught him before his limp form hit the ground, cradling him close, and Toushiro stared up at the ginger boy, his head lolling against the warm chest beneath. He felt numb, the puncture just beneath his developing chest sending icy cold waves through his body. He choked, coughing blood.

“Ichigo...?” he choked out, each breath he took painfully difficult. The ginger quickly lifted his slight body, murmuring horrified coos probably meant to soothe him, and carried him over to a terrified Matsumoto and the six Fourth-Division members that had accompanied the squadron of his men. He gasped in pain as he was laid down, a white sheet spread out underneath his injured frame.

“Ichi...go...” Toushiro whispered again, reaching faintly for the sunshiny hair and warm chocolate eyes fixed in his vision, seeming to glow. The world was starting to blur into a haze - he was losing blood, and something told him that Ichigo would be feeling guilty, but he didn’t know why. As the medical shinigami drew close and the sky started to fade to grey, he felt warm fingers wrap around his own and heard a soft voice, thick with guilt and grief, calling his name.

Chapter Text

Ichigo stared horror at the small body standing in front of him, protecting him. Toushiro’s slender chest had been pierced through by the Adjuchas’s tail, and his blood was slick on the sharp white bone-spire, but his reiatsu was still a blizzard around him, colder than Ichigo had ever felt it before and thrice as dense. With a shiver, the teenager remembered the density of Aizen’s power, compared the two, and found them terrifyingly similar. If anything, Toushiro felt stronger.

“Reign over the frosted heavens, Hyourinmaru!!”

Ice materialized out of nowhere, the familiar ice-drake howling glacial fury from Hyourinmaru’s keen tip, but the overwhelming density of the reiatsu overflowed, and solid ice crackled down the ice-captain’s back, forming a whip-like tail and protective chestplate, a tiara made of sparkling frozen water forming delicately on top of the young shinigami’s head. But then the dragon of water and ice, bigger and colder than Ichigo remembered, tore through the Adjuchas, breathing frozen, indigo lotus-flowers of arctic beauty, and with a screech of agony the Menos disintegrated, the plain of ice and frost expanding softly around them.

Hitsugaya had taken down an Adjuchas-class hollow in one hit. With his Shikai. After he’d just been gored. Since when had the young crossdresser been that strong?

But Kurosaki’s awe was short-lived; as the Hollow disappeared Toushiro’s knees buckled beneath his body and he fell. Leaping forward, Ichigo caught him with a soundless cry, his hands trembling. Wide green eyes, glazed by shock, fixated on him, the healthy golden color draining out of the teenaged captain’s cheeks at an alarming rate, and the injured adolescent coughed thinly, blood burbling from his mouth. In shock, horrified by Toushiro’s injury and his own weakness, the hybrid shinigami clutched the petite body to his chest. Hitsugaya’s thick red blood dampened his shihakusho.

“Ichigo...?” Toushiro murmured his voice gasping and weak, the thick droplets of red bleeding from his lips, and suddenly Ichigo realized that the boy couldn’t breathe. With panic rising in his chest inexplicably, he cradled the young captain more securely in his arms and ran him over to a sobbing, red-eyed Matsumoto.

“Shhh...Shhh, Toushiro, don’t talk, okay? You’re gonna be alright...” he murmured to the paling captain, skidding to a frantic stop next to the equally-frantic healers. As gently as he could, he laid the injured boy down on the white plastic sheet that the healers had rolled out, but a faint wheeze of pain still left Toushiro’s bloodstained lips, and as Ichigo drew back a pace to let the healers work, the young crossdresser called his name again.

“Ichi...go...” he mumbled, his hand trembling towards the substitute’s stricken face, and Ichigo froze, guilt eating at his heart but tearing worry causing it to beat faster, and after a moment Matsumoto urged him forward with a soft whimper. Ichigo knelt by the white-haired captain’s left side, taking the small, cold hand gently in his own, and for half a moment he saw the flicker of recognition enter the colorless face.

“Toushiro?” he asked, his voice quivering guiltily, but the green gaze stared sightlessly through him, and he knew then that Hitsugaya couldn’t hear him anymore. “Toushiro!”

“Please stay calm, Kurosaki-san.” one of the doctors said gravely, looking up from where her hands were pressed over the bleeding puncture, her hands radiating healing kido. “Panicking will do us no good in this situation.”

Ichigo couldn’t help the tightening of his heart in his chest, his pulse thudding in his mouth, and he gripped the small hand in his as tightly as he could without hurting the unconscious boy. All he could think about was that sweet pink blush that he’d seen so briefly on the captain’s face, and the soft, almost hidden smile that had graced Toushiro’s lips after he’d heard Ichigo’s compliments. He’d been so gorgeous wearing a dress - and now he was bleeding out, unable to breathe properly, all because Ichigo hadn’t sensed a Hollow.

“Oh gods...” the teenager covered his face with his free hand, the other still wrapped around the ice-captain’s slender fingers, and suddenly he heard the Fourth Division shinigami arguing among themselves.

“I can’t carry him - let alone make it to the Fourth in a decent amount of time. You’ll have to transport him there.”

“You’re faster than I am!”

“But I can’t lift him!”

Ichigo looked up.

“What’s the maximum speed he can tolerate right now?” he asked, his voice devoid of emotion. The healers stared at him.

“Shunpo doesn’t usually aggravate injuries.” the senior of the two replied. “We’ve performed emergency treatment, but that will only hold him for a little while. He needs to get to the Fourth.”

Ichigo let go of Toushiro’s hand and stood, facing the teary Matsumoto, his resolve set.

“Rangiku-san, I can take him.” he said, tapping the top of his forehead with two fingers. The Lieutenant nodded shakily from where she was trying to reassure her men.

“Go, Ichigo.” she said, and with that, the hybrid ripped his Hollow mask over his face and swept the injured Toushiro into his arms, ignoring the gaping terror of the Fourth Division shinigami. Then he took off like a bullet. Toushiro stayed silent in his grasp as he raced across the Soul Society, the shallow breathing irregular and pained. It took two long minutes for Ichigo to reach the Fourth Division - two minutes too long, in his opinion - and with a Hollow’s distorted, echoing voice, he landed in front of the treatment center, half out of his mind with worry.

The shinigami scattered around screeched in terror, fleeing madly at the sight of the Hollow mask, but then Isane was running up to him, her gaze frightened.

“Kurosaki-san?” the lieutenant asked, and with a blink Ichigo let his mask dissolve, revealing the redness of his eyes and the emotional agony on his face.

“Help...” he whispered, and Isane’s gaze shifted to the bloody ice-wielder dangling limply in the hybrid’s secure grasp. Suddenly she turned professional.

“Call Unohana-taicho!” she ordered, her voice strong. “Tell her that Hitsugaya-taicho requires emergency operations in Operating Theatre Two and that I will need her assistance immediately!”

Two of the nearby unseated men bowed deeply, but Isane had already pulled Ichigo and his unconscious burden away, leading them towards the emergency treatment rooms in near-Shunpo speeds. Quickly, the two burst into an empty room, and as Isane was hurriedly decontaminating in some kido germ-killer, she directed Ichigo to set the captain on the clean white table in the center of the room.

Gently, the human-shinigami-Hollow hybrid obeyed, trying as hard as he could to keep from dissolving into tears. Toushiro lay pale and still on the white table, the blood dripping from his nose and lips slowly, the hasty plastic wrapping around his punctured lung slowly growing saturated. Isane came over then, a white smock on over her shihakusho, and placed her hands over the bloody spot on Toushiro’s chest.

“Kurosaki-san, I’m sorry, but you have to leave.” she ordered, and Ichigo dragged himself from the room as Unohana, her face twisted by worry, ran inside, pulling another of the healing shinigami with her.

As the door swung shut behind him, Ichigo felt his heart sink in his chest, and he covered his face with his hands, muffling his sobs with his palms. He and the young captain had become friends during the Aizen incident, and the orange-headed substitute was feeling incredibly guilty for the pain he’d just put his friend through. If only he could sense reiatsu better...

He felt Hanatarou guide him to a shower, where he was allowed to wash Hitsugaya’s cooling red blood from his skin, and then was given a clean shihakusho and showed to the waiting room, where he curled up in a chair and sat in silence.

At some point, a harried Matsumoto rushed in, her blonde hair tangled, her bearing in utter disarray. A baffled Renji was trailing her, as was an equally puzzled Rukia and her stoic but concerned older brother. For a moment, Matsumoto looked around wildly, tears in her blue eyes, and Renji finally managed to set his hand on her shoulder.

“Rangiku-san, what-”

“Ichigo!” she cried out, ignoring her fellow colleague in favor of running to the substitute’s side. Ichigo uncurled himself, revealing red-rimmed eyes to the stricken lieutenant. Behind her, he glimpsed Rukia, Renji, and Byakuya staring at the tear tracks on his face, but the only person he could concentrate on was the distraught woman in front of him.

Suddenly the guilt struck him all over again, and his brave front collapsed. The substitute began sobbing again, his shoulders shaking violently. Toushiro could be dying and it was his fault. It was his fault that the boy had jumped, that the beautiful ice-wielder had fallen, the strong young man had been lying, bleeding and wounded, in his arms.

All because of an Adjuchas.

“Oh gods, Rangiku-san...” he sobbed. “Oh g-gods, I’m s-so sorry...Th-this is all m-my f-fault.”

Matsumoto sat down next to him, choking on her tears.

“N-no, it’s not.” she whimpered miserably. “S-some upper-class Hollows can hide their reiatsu. Ai-aizen gave them that ability-”

“I defeated that shitty bastard!” Ichigo yelled, fisting his hands in his hair. The nearby members of the Fourth Division turned away quickly, gradually backing up as the substitute’s reiatsu spiked up. Since he’d used Mugetsu, his reiatsu had been tinged with dark fire, and it made many nervous. “I ground that piece of shit into the dirt - his stupid experiments shouldn’t....sh-shouldn’t...”

He curled back in on himself.

“I c-could have turned around f-faster!” he choked out. “Z-zangetsu sh-should’ve been I-in my hands - I w-was going into a H-hollow-infested z-zone. B-but instead I w-was off g-guard and...”

He burst into a freshly strangled round of sobs, and Matsumoto shook her head again.

“He...he wanted to save you, Ichigo.” she whispered weakly. “He didn’t...didn’t want you hurt. Don’t b-belittle that choice.”

“There shouldn’t have been a choice!” the distraught teenager said fiercely. “He...he sh-shouldn’t have had to choose...”

For a long minute there was silence, and then Byakuya stepped forward, his slate-grey gaze distinctly concerned. Never had Ichigo ever been so upset, even when Rukia had been injured. The substitute had never broken down like this before.

“Matsumoto-fukutaicho. Kurosaki Ichigo. What happened?” he asked calmly, raising an eyebrow in askance. Ichigo lifted his head, self-loathing so clear in his expression that Renji and Rukia gaped.

“There was an Adjuchas.” he said thickly. “I didn’t sense it, but apparently it was hiding its reiatsu. It attacked me from my blind spot - stupid thing was going to stab me with its tail.”

Renji scowled, the tattoos on his brow wrinkling.

“Is that all you’re upset about?” he asked in his gruff way. “Everyone gets blindsided every once in a while. Even the captains get caught off guard on rare occasion, and you have less battle experience than them by a long shot.”

Suddenly Rukia gasped, putting the pieces together in her head. She looked from Matsumoto to Ichigo and back again, her violet eyes going wide. She was well aware of Ichigo’s developing crush on the ice-captain, even if he wasn’t fully conscious of that yet. For him to be this upset...

“...oh my gods.” she whispered, and Renji and Byakuya turned to look at her in surprise.

“What is it, Rukia?” Renji asked, baffled. Rukia swallowed hard, tears pricking in her eyes, ignoring her childhood friend.

“Ichigo.” she said, her voice thick. “How bad was it?”

The ginger shinigami put his head on his knees.

“...Stabbed through the lung.” he hissed through a clenched jaw. “...he kept c-calling my name, Rukia, like he was tr-trying to make sure that I w-was okay despite the fact that he was the one bl-bleeding everywhere...”

The substitute ran his fingers through his hair again, pulling on fistfuls of the orange-locks, and Rukia swallowed again, her hands trembling.

“He’ll be okay.” he tried to reassure him, her voice quivering uncertainly. “He...he survived the Winter War.”

Ichigo appeared to calm somewhat, as did the unusually quiet Matsumoto. The blonde lieutenant spoke up then.

“Ichigo, it wasn’t your fault.” she said, her voice a little stronger, and as the teenager looked up to argue, her eyes hardened. “Ichigo, don’t you even try to argue with me right now - you’re not the one who’s taken a vow to protect him. I failed in more than one way today.”

Renji’s eyes rounded out in understanding, and Byakuya raised an eyebrow, not expecting the sudden turn of events. Every Lieutenant upon first meeting their captain swore a position-unique oath of loyalty, in which was included the phrase “upon my honor as a shinigami, I will lay down my life in your stead and take every blow meant for your back.”

“...Hitsugaya-taicho was injured.” the tall, solemn Kuchiki stated gravely, and Ichigo nodded once, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“...the little idiot jumped in front of me.” he said quietly. “The Adjuchas was aiming for me. Toushiro took the hit instead.”

Rukia tentatively stepped forward and sat on Ichigo’s other side, wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t say anything after that, but eventually the orange-haired boy leaned into her embrace, his misery and guilt palpable.

“...thanks, midget.” he whispered hoarsely. Rukia nodded wordlessly, ignoring the slight on her height for the moment. It wasn’t the time to retaliate, though she would definitely do so later.

Renji and his captain stood there awkwardly for a long minute, and then Renji sat down next to Matsumoto and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Byakuya turned to stare intensely at the closed hallway which led to the operating rooms, his expression thoroughly displeased.

“Yamamoto-soutaicho will wish to be notified.” he said after a moment. “I will inform him.”

He disappeared before anyone could say anything, but nobody missed the unsteady flicker of softening concern in his deadly pink reiatsu. Even Kuchiki-taicho had his moments, and apparently seeing his younger sister and former adversary so distraught had moved him somewhat. Hitsugaya’s condition would not have stirred such a reaction - it wasn’t the first time that the youngest captain had done something rash - but the combination of the obvious distress and the thought of Toushiro’s injury obviously affected the stoic captain more than he liked anyone else to see.

Ichigo buried his face in Rukia’s shoulder, and she rubbed circles into his back, trying to calm him. She’d never seen him so upset before. She closed her violet eyes. If Hitsugaya-taicho didn’t recover - and quickly - then she didn’t know how Ichigo would take it. The last time someone close to him had been hurt - her actually, though she was still grumpy that he felt so personally responsible for it - he’d gone off and completed extremely dangerous training to control his inner Hollow. If this crush of his was anything like his friendship with her...well, she didn’t want to know how far he’d try to push himself.

She let out a soft sigh, the soft chair beneath her squeaking quietly.

It would be a long, painful wait.

Chapter Text

“Hatchling, have you woken?”

“...No, go away.”

“Come now, little one. You have visitors who are quite anxious to see you wake.”

“...I don’t want to.”

“...Yamamoto-soutaicho is waiting for you, hatchling. As are Matsumoto Rangiku, Kuchiki Rukia, Kurosaki Ichigo, and Hinamori Momo, not to mention several of the other captains.”

“...Goddammit, what did I do to myself this time?”

Slowly, with Hyourinmaru’s help, Hitsugaya dragged his mind from the deep cushion of darkness, struggling back towards consciousness as if swimming up from the deeps of the ocean. He felt disconnected from his body, but as he swam closer to the surface feeling started to rush back into his limbs and he flinched distinctly as the unmistakable sensation of pain shot across his chest like lightning. But he kept going, and slowly towed himself back to consciousness.

His limbs felt heavy. It was the first thing he noticed upon resurfacing from the dark folds of unconsciousness. He felt tired and sleepy, and twinges of distinct agony flared across his chest at regular intervals, though he could tell that the sharp edge of the pain had been sharply dulled by something. Breathing was a little more difficult than normal; he felt like he had to pull hard for each breath. Gradually, he realized that a stiff plastic mask had pressed firmly over his mouth and nose and that elastic straps attached to the mask had been fit around his head. Cool air puffed against his lips - an oxygen mask, he realized. And there was a stinging sensation in the underside of his left arm - he must have an intravenous line there.

So he was in the Fourth Division, then.

With a decent amount of effort, he peeled his eyelids away from his eyes. He blinked, his gaze blurred for a few minutes, then felt a gentle touch on the side of his face. Unohana’s deep-blue eyes and dark hair materialized above him.

“Hitsugaya-taicho, it’s good that you’re awake.” she said, smiling. He said nothing, but nodded weakly and took a deep breath.

“How...long...?” he panted, pain flaring along the right side as he spoke. He was starting to remember what had happened, and he hoped that Ichigo would still be present - he knew the idiot would be feeling awful for what had happened, given his annoying tendency to blame himself.

“It has been sixteen hours since you were brought in, Hitsugaya-taicho.” she answered calmly. “Please refrain from speaking too loudly for now. You’re still dangerously hypoxic, and your lung will take several weeks to fully heal.”

The young captain nodded wordlessly, feeling his head spin at the movement, and slowly Unohana helped him to sit up, propped upright by pillows. He lay back against the soft rectangles of fluff, weak and lethargic. The oxygen mask on his face barely seemed to be helping - he didn’t even want to know what breathing would be like without the highly-concentrated oxygen being supplied to him.

Then he looked down at his lap, and his eyes widened.

“What...is this?” he whispered, staring down at himself. Unohana raised an eyebrow.

“You have been binding your chest too tightly, Hitsugaya-taicho.” she said, her voice disapproving. “You are growing into a young woman now, whether you like it or not, and you do need to let your breasts breathe somewhat, or they will not develop properly.”

Toushiro looked up, hints of panic in his eyes.

“The point is...not to let...anyone see that...I’m a girl!” he hissed softly. Unohana sniffed, her expression extremely displeased.

“No, the point is to give yourself support, not to smother yourself.” she rebuked gently. “I understand that this is strange for you, but I do not think you will be able to hide for much longer. If my estimation is correct, you may end up quite curvy.”

The injured captain groaned weakly, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Are you...kidding me?” he murmured. Unohana shook her head.

“No, I’m not.” she said. “My best guess is that you will be a petite, full-figured woman once puberty is over. I’d be surprised if you make it above five feet.”

Toushiro tried his best not to let his irritation flare at the news that he’d be tiny for his entire life. It wasn’t exactly news, however. Malnutrition from the Rukongai had stunted his growth - that much he’d known since first arriving at the Academy. However, the loose fabric of his soft, white hospital yukata brushing gently up over his growing, bare chest was unnerving. He’d grown used to the feeling of having some sort of second layer between his outer clothing and his skin, and though the thick bandaging around his wound did provide a meager amount of coverage, he still felt completely exposed. How did Matsumoto deal with revealing so much cleavage all the time?

“I can provide a camisole for you while you’re here, if that would make you less uncomfortable.” Unohana offered gently, watching her patient’s expression carefully. “It’s somewhat like a cross between a tank top and a bra.”

Toushiro shifted slightly then nodded his confirmation, and Unohana smiled down at him. He averted his gaze, trying to hide his face despite the weakness of his body, but Unohana must have caught something.

“...Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Hitsugaya-kun?” she asked, her expression soft. Toushiro paused for a moment, gazed up at her, then raised a thin white eyebrow.

“Ukitake-taicho...thinks that you already...know what I...would say.” he mumbled quietly, and Unohana’s eyes went wide in shock. The October breeze murmured outside Hitsugaya’s window, curling cool tendrils through the open window. For a long moment the wind was the only sound, and then Unohana swallowed her surprise.

“...Oh, dear child.” she gasped softly. “...are you...?”

Toushiro nodded shakily, feeling the room swirl again.

“Gender-questioning.” he said as quietly as he could. His brow furrowed in pain, but he said nothing. Unohana bowed her head for a moment, then lifted her gaze to his face.

“When you decide, come to me at once.” she said quietly. “I will need to preside over the official record changes if you become officially female.”

Toushiro nodded weakly, his head spinning.

“...thank you.” he whispered, and Unohana shook her head, smiling once again.

“It’s your decision alone, Hitsugaya-kun.” she reminded him gently. “But when you choose, please at least make sure that you transition smoothly, if only to soothe those who will be against you. I fear you will face strong opposition.”

Hitsugaya made a vapid gesture to the affirmative, sinking back into the pillows with his exhaustion clearly evident in the air about him. Unohana reached out and tapped two of her fingers to his jugular, searching for the steady beat of his heart. She stayed still for a moment, taking his pulse, then retreated a pace.

“Do you feel strong enough to see anyone, Hitsugaya-taicho?” the Fourth Division Captain asked kindly. Toushiro thought for a moment.

“Maybe for...a little while...” he murmured. “Make sure...that Kurosaki...comes in before I...fall asleep.”

Unohana, who’d heard the entire story from a tearful Matsumoto, gave her consent to that quiet request, then stood up and swept serenely from her patient’s hospital room. She ordered Isane - who was also under the gag order now, considering that she’d helped to operate on the ice-captain - to fetch one of her younger sister’s camisoles and discreetly give it to Hitsugaya. Then the tall woman walked serenely towards the waiting room where Ichigo, Matsumoto, and several others had been waiting for Toushiro to wake since noon the previous day.

She stepped inside the darkened room to see that Ichigo and Matsumoto had fallen asleep in their chairs, as had Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji. Aside from them, however, the room’s occupants were mostly awake, though bleary-eyed with worry. Of these, Yamamoto-soutaicho was the only one to stand upon her entrance. Ukitake, Kyoraku, and Kuchiki stayed seated.

“Unohana-taicho, how is he?” the soft question was Kyoraku’s, his dark eyes saddened. The Fourth Division Captain let out a soft sigh, folding her arms inside the voluminous sleeves of her haori.

“Weak.” she answered, her voice as gentle as she could make it. “He is still dangerously hypoxic, though we managed to bring his blood pressure back up to a safe level. He will require oxygen support for the next few weeks or so, as well as intravenous painkillers to dull the pain he feels every time he breathes.”

Yamamoto raised a bushy eyebrow, the worry in his old gaze wrinkled by slow confidence.

“But he lives.” he stated in his creaking voice, and Unohana nodded.

“As he always has, yes. He’s quite stubborn. He woke up about twelve hours before I was expecting him to.” she said, a sort of exasperated fondness in her voice. “He has requested to see Kurosaki-san before he falls asleep again, which I fear will happen very shortly. He is very tired.”

The four captains sat silent, understanding their youngest colleague’s reasoning for initially ignoring their presence in favor of the distraught substitute, and permitted Unohana to cross to the opposite side of the room and shake Ichigo awake. He’d fallen asleep some time ago, and none had the heart to fault him for it. After all, the boy had been sitting there, anxious and high-strung, for nearly sixteen hours.

Ichigo drifted back to consciousness, bleary-eyed with lingering upset and sleep, but froze as Unohana’s words registered in his mind.

“Hitsugaya-taicho asked for you, Kurosaki-san.”

Slowly, Ichigo reached out and knocked on the door, nervous as hell. Unohana had told him that Toushiro wouldn’t be able to speak in anything but a whisper due to the injury he’d received, and that he might drift off during their conversation, but that didn’t explain why Toushiro wanted to see him.

There was a weak whisper of ‘come in, Kurosaki’ from within the hospital room and with slow, deliberate movements the substitute obeyed, trying to avoid looking at the room’s occupant for as long as he could. However, the sight was unavoidable, and as the orange-headed teenager sank into the chair by Hitsugaya’s bed, he met the ice-captain’s gaze.

Frail didn’t describe the young man lying helplessly before him. Toushiro’s usually warm, golden skin was pale, made pallid by loss of blood, and his emerald gaze was blurred by exhaustion. He was hooked up to an IV, which was passively pumping saline and medications into his bloodstream, and a stiff plastic mask was strapped to his face, a long, clear tube connecting the mask to a tank of concentrated oxygen lying on his bedside table. Ichigo glanced at the boy’s chest where the Adjuchas’s tail had hit, his face starting to flush with shame, and then noticed something odd.

Were those...?

“...Eyes on my face...Kurosaki.”

Toushiro’s voice, though faint, was aggressive, and with a deep scarlet blush Ichigo firmly glued his eyes to Toushiro’s irritated face.

“...I...Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting to see...I mean...er...” the teenager floundered, watching as Toushiro’s cheeks began to flush slightly, giving him a vaguely feverish look.

“To see that I’m...growing breasts?” the wounded captain asked in a low murmur, a faint smirk on his lips. Ichigo tried his hardest not to glance back at the slight curve of the young man’s upper body.

“Yeah, that.” he admitted. Toushiro nodded weakly.

“It’s...recent.” he forced out. “Since Kurotsuchi turned me...into a girl, I’ve...hit puberty. It’s weird...for me too.”

Ichigo nodded wordlessly, the conversation dying away into an awkward silence. The only sound was the steady, soft whirr of the oxygen tank by Hitsugaya’s bed and the gentle rasp of his pained breathing the only noise. The substitute fidgeted uncomfortably, his distress starting to peak the longer that the young captain spent staring at him. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice trembling.

“Why?” he asked, brown eyes filling up. He clenched his fists, driving his nails into his palms. “Why’d you save me like that?”

Toushiro blinked at his guest, but it was obvious that he’d expected the question - perhaps not so soon, but he’d expected it. The bedridden captain sighed shallowly.

“Because you’re my friend...idiot.” Toushiro replied, a hint of ice in his tone. “I am...perfectly entitled to save you...if I so choose to do so. I lived through Aizen...I can handle being stabbed.”

Ichigo shook his head.

“It was my fault.” he said miserably. “You weren’t supposed to have to choose to do that.”

“Ichigo.”

The orange-headed teenager looked at the young captain through teary eyes, then realized that the white-haired captain hadn’t called him Kurosaki. He’d said Ichigo, the same way he had when he’d been bleeding out not even a full day prior. The substitute froze.

“I didn’t sense...the Hollow either.” Toushiro admitted quietly. “And District 44...is under the Tenth Division’s supervision. I am the one...who truly failed to do...my duty. Protecting you...was my instinct...but if I had done my job correctly...you would not have needed my intervention...”

Toushiro’s voice cut off then, shattering into a series of coughs that seemed to wrack his slender body violently. Ichigo leapt forward, worry in his gaze, and sat down on the edge of the young man’s bed, utterly unsure of what to do besides carefully lift Toushiro’s chin so that his trachea was aligned - which would hopefully make breathing easier for the boy.

“Toushiro?” Ichigo asked after the coughing fit was over, gently sliding his hand up the ice-captain’s soft, pretty face until he was cupping the young captain’s cool cheek in one large hand.

Toushiro’s eyelids fluttered back open, his expression distinctly pained, and stared up at the substitute, his expression unreadable but somehow vulnerable. Ichigo rubbed his thumb over the smooth, pallid skin, gazing down at the young crossdresser lying tucked up to his chest in blankets, clad in white. The emerald gaze was fixed on him, some lingering traces of mild uncertainty present there, and the bright green irises sparkled gently.

Suddenly, Ichigo realized just how intimate the touch was. Here he was, cradling the ice-captain’s soft cheek in one hand, like a lover caressing his partner’s face. Their gazes were locked on each other, colliding in a storm of warm brown and cool emerald, and without warning Ichigo realized that both he and Toushiro were blushing deeply. Though that wasn’t a terrible thing - even whiter than a sheet from blood loss, Toushiro’s pink cheeks were beautiful in a heated sort of fashion, a passionate expression of his shy discomfort. For some reason, Ichigo could hear Chad’s words thundering alongside his heartbeat.

Make the first kiss a gentle one.

But now wasn’t the time or place to do such a thing.

Slowly, Ichigo dropped his hand from the smaller teenager’s cool cheekbone, and Toushiro gaped up at him from beneath the oxygen mask. Ichigo ran a hand through his orange hair.

“...Er...sorry for that, you just worried me for a second there...” he covered, knowing that the ice-wielder would probably see through the blatant lie without any effort. He was right. Toushiro’s lips pursed in irritation beneath the mask, the startling vulnerability wavering visibly, partially hidden by the young man’s irritation.

“Kurosaki...” he growled. “I’m not...a porcelain doll. I’m perfectly capable of...making my own decisions. If this is the price for saving...your life, then I’m glad to pay it. You don’t have to treat...me like I’m going to shatter.”

Ichigo smiled faintly down at the boy.

“But I want to.” he replied softly. “It makes me feel less guilty that I forced you into the situation.”

“Kurosaki, you didn’t...force me. Nobody forced me. I made the choice to protect you...because I wanted to.”

Ichigo paused there, then looked up at the boy in guilty curiosity.

“Why did you want to save me?” he asked, slightly skeptically. “I get that we’re friends and everything, but being gored like that seems pretty extreme.”

Toushiro’s gaze darkened, his expression turning offended.

“Excuse me?” he snarled, then started coughing again, his chest heaving weakly. Ichigo scooted a little closer to the boy’s pillows, trying to calm the ice-captain before he hurt himself any further, and slowly the young captain’s labored breathing evened out again. Ichigo’s expression was one of pure, unadulterated concern and hurt.

“Why would you do this to yourself, Toushiro?” Ichigo murmured, unconsciously twining his fingers with the white-haired captain’s. “It’s killing me to see you like this.”

Toushiro swallowed hard, staring up at the handsome boy above him, at the bright hair and warm eyes, filled currently with such pain that Hitsugaya wouldn’t be surprised if the ever-reckless Kurosaki had managed to hurt himself as well. He licked his lips underneath the mask, his throat suddenly dry. The butterflies stirred in his stomach. He could feel Ichigo’s warm hand clasping his acutely, the soft fire of the teenager’s skin sending tingles of nervous excitement up his arm to his heart.

But finally he spoke.

“...because you told me I was beautiful.” he said softly. “Because you didn’t even bat an eye when I wore a....dress, but just went straight into the compliments like it was the most....normal thing in the world to see someone who used to be a boy...suddenly prancing around like a little girl, and...”

Ichigo’s gaze softened, and he brought the young captain’s hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over the pallid knuckles gently. Toushiro went silent, jade gaze wide.

“You are beautiful, Toushiro.” the half-human said firmly. “Don’t you ever think otherwise. Whether you’re transgender or gay or bisexual or gender-queer or pansexual or gender-neutral or straight or even all of them combined somehow, you are beautiful. And yeah...you wearing a dress wasn’t normal. But if it felt right to you, then the rest of the world better damn well get used to you in a dress, because I’m not gonna let anyone hold you back.”

Toushiro stared for a moment at his fingers, but then sweet smile curled his lips and he laughed softly.

“That’s exactly why...I jumped in front of you.” he said, his gaze clear as a bright winter’s day. Ichigo raised an eyebrow, and Toushiro blushed a bit, clarifying.

“...you accepted me...for who I am, Kurosaki.” he said. “And that means a lot to me.”

The two didn’t say anything more for a while after that, only sat and enjoyed the other’s company for a short while. Toushiro’s soft breathing filled the silence, and slowly their fingers tangled together, a soft grasp that managed to convey a wealth of information. Hitsugaya stared up at the teenager hovering guiltily over him, a sort of pulling on his heart trying to force his body to press against the larger, broader chest sitting next to him. Another flush rose up his face, and he fought it down.

“...Why...were you in Rukongai?” the flustered young man asked, trying to distract himself, but their linked hands sent pleasant tingles of warmth curling around his heart, and he knew the blush on his cheeks wasn’t fading.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Ah, well...my little sisters are starting to develop their reiryoku.” he said, a bit nervously. “I mean, it’s to be expected - Dad was a shinigami before Aizen screwed everything up - but Yuzu...the poor girl can’t control her reiatsu yet. Karin’s a little better, but...anyway, Urahara told me to go to Soul Society and buy a piece of jewelry or something similar for each of them - it had to be made of reishi, don’t ask me why - so that he could turn said jewelry into devices that the girls could use to control their reiatsu. And...well, I actually thought of you while I was there...”

Toushiro blinked in surprise as Ichigo reached into his shihakusho and pulled a chunky navy headband patterned with silver streaks from his sleeve. Ichigo blushed a bit, then set the headband in Toushiro’s hand.

“I saw that and thought you’d like it.” Ichigo said sheepishly. Toushiro stared at the gift in shock, then reached out and took it, fingers trembling. Then he laughed weakly, ignoring the pain that the movement caused him, and slid the headband into his unruly white hair.

“How do I look?” he asked weakly, smiling faintly, and Ichigo felt as light as a bird then, knowing that the young boy-turning-girl liked the present. He’d succeeded!

“You’re beautiful.” he said honestly, and as Toushiro smiled beatifically up at him from where the young captain lay wrapped in blankets, Ichigo could swear that he was flying.

Chapter Text

Toushiro was released from the Fourth almost a week later, under strict orders from Unohana to avoid physical activity for the next week in order to avoid putting undue stress on his lungs. On top of this - much to his chagrin - his suspension from duty was not ended, thereby making it illegal for him to engage in any sort of combat, whether simulated or real, and from doing any paperwork related to his job. He’d already snapped once and bolted for his Zanpakutou, but a combination of his unsteady breathing and Unohana’s quick Kido had pinned him to the ground and sent him into a kido-induced slumber. He’d been hooked up to a sedative drip after that, the calmative drugs working alongside his painkillers to keep him docile and sleepy.

And that had been only after he’d found out about his continued suspension. But this...

“No.”

Unohana’s expression turned steely, her terrifying smile starting to creep across her face.

“Hitsugaya-taicho, you are either wearing this or you are staying right where you are.” she scolded him, her smile dangerously intimidating. Toushiro flinched, glaring at the apparatus in the healing-captain’s hands with murder in his eyes.

“Why do I even need that? This is stupid - I’m fine.” he asked, grumpily. He reached up and shifted the position of the oxygen mask on his face - it was starting to chafe his skin. Unohana sighed deeply.

“I will be the judge of your state of health, Hitsugaya-taicho.” she said calmly. “And right now, your lungs have been functioning passably with highly-concentrated oxygen support. Taking you off the oxygen will have to be slow, so that your lungs can adjust and heal. The nasal cannula will provide a less concentrated oxygen supply, so it can act as a stepping stone to no support entirely. However, you are not leaving this hospital without wearing this - your lungs are still not ready to fully function.”

Toushiro glared at the bag in the healing captain’s hands, sulking, his young face darkened by his obvious dislike.

“...So I just have to take that around with me wherever I go?” he asked, glowering at it, and Unohana nodded. The young man groaned.

“Ugh.” he grunted in disgust. “Fine, show me how to work the thing.”

Unohana’s smile became much less intimidating then, and she approached serenely, carrying the strange device in her hands. Slowly, she slipped Hitsugaya’s breathing mask from his mouth and nose, turning that device completely off.

Almost immediately, Toushiro felt a figurative pillow press over his mouth and nose, inhibiting his breathing, and he leaned forward in shock and surprise. He hadn’t expected the air to feel so terribly thin. While he was flailing about trying to adjust, Unohana slid the prongs of the nasal cannula into his nostrils and pressed some button, allowing oxygen to flow through the clear plastic tube.

Almost immediately, Toushiro felt the burden on his lungs ease. He gasped for a moment, trying to calm himself. His lungs still felt like they were working harder than they had been, but at least the invisible pillow was gone. Unohana raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you see my point now, Hitsugaya-taicho?” she asked her patient, her voice dangerous. Toushiro flinched, running his fingers along the tube that was in his nose.

“Yes...” he admitting grudgingly, grumbling unhappily.

Unohana helped him to hook the clear nasal cannula over his ears and tape the tube into the proper position on the sides of his face. Then she showed him how to change out the oxygen tanks that fit into the small backpack he would have to carry around.

After that, his Zanpakutou was returned to him, and he was given leave to get dressed and return to the Tenth Division - minus his uniform. As he was on medical suspension, he couldn’t be in uniform. It annoyed him, but he dealt with it calmly, wrapping his growing chest and sliding into a fresh light-teal polo and a pair of clean black jeans that had a tapered fit. He didn’t necessarily prefer human clothes to the typical shinigami wear, but he did know that the somewhat-fitted short-sleeve would do a better job at hiding his developing breasts than a simple yukata would, and seeing as how he didn’t have any of his winter kimonos with him, the human clothes would have to do for now.

As he slid the backpack’s straps over his shoulders and clipped Hyourinmaru’s long blade to the side of the backpack, Toushiro touched the nasal cannula he was wearing with a sort of ginger disgust. Unohana came close to him then and took both ends of the thin, clear tube and clipped them together under his chin, then pulled the tube over his left shoulder, ensuring that the tube wouldn’t hinder his movements.

“Alright, you’re free to go, Hitsugaya-taicho.” Unohana said kindly. “And remember, the only time you’re authorized to remove the nasal cannula is when you’re getting dressed or bathing. And even then, I want you to keep it close by at all times. Isane and I will periodically stop by to check on your progress. And furthermore, you are under no circumstances allowed to smother your chest, regardless of whether your curves begin to become noticeable or not. Am I understood?”

Toushiro scowled but nodded, feeling the uncomfortable pull of the oxygen tube on his face. Then, with a smile, Unohana reminded him to keep the oxygen away from fire, as it was highly flammable, and let him go.

As he walked through the Seireitei towards the Tenth Division, Hitsugaya contemplated his dilemma. He was well into pubescence now, so much so that his waistline had also started to shift, his hips beginning to fill out. He’d noticed that while wearing the thin hospital yukata. It both freaked him out and made him secretly excited at the same time. But while he didn’t mind the slow changing of his body, he knew that others probably would, especially when it appeared that he was starting to embrace his ‘feminine side’ by, well, by looking female.

It was probably better to start off slow, and ‘slow’ wouldn’t even be a possibility unless he started now. Otherwise someone - like Ichigo had, Toushiro remembered with a blush - would suddenly notice the soft curve of his chest, and then everyone in Seireitei would know. That would be too sudden of a revelation.

With this in mind, the young captain ran his fingers through his white hair, pulling it down from its wild spikes into the choppy, layered pixie-bob that Matsumoto had created, sweeping his bangs over the front of his face. Might as well start off slow - the new hairstyle was a relatively unisex one, and though it accentuated the femininity of his facial features, it was neutral enough that while people might look at him funny, they wouldn’t say anything. Well, until his hair started to grow out, that is. He was planning on letting it grow to his shoulders, at the very least. That might garner more than a few strange glances.

He couldn’t help smiling though, as he felt the tickle of white wisps on the sides of his face, brushing over the oxygen tube in his nose gently. Experimenting with his gender-identity was both interesting and enlightening, and he was glad that he had such a perfect opportunity.

Part of him cringed inwardly at the thought of remaining stifled inside his former gender. Being male hadn’t necessarily been terrible, but he’d definitely felt like he’d been boxed in, trapped by gender expectations and a choking social norm that he’d had to tiptoe. He’d been suffocating under all that pressure, but now that he was female he felt those burdens evaporating.

Suddenly he stopped dead in the middle of the street, eyes wide in realization.

“...Since when did I start thinking ‘was male’ in the past tense?”

Hyourinmaru rumbled soothingly in his chest, a slight flicker of amusement purring in the dragon’s massive throat.

“I believe it was on the very day that you saved Kurosaki Ichigo’s life.” the icy drake said gently. “You said ‘when I come out as transgender.’ In those exact words, mind you.”

“Oh god.” Toushiro thought, reaching up to cover his face with a hand, his fingers trembling slightly. “...Holy shit, I...”

Suddenly he felt light, like a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. He laughed softly to himself in disbelief.

“...I’ve already admitted it to myself.” he stated, and suddenly he felt Hyourinmaru’s cold scales rub against his cool skin. “...I’m female. I’m a ‘she.’ I’m transgender.”

“Yes, little one, you have.” the dragon soothed. “But it’s probably for the best that you explore being female as fully as you can before you make such a claim.”

“That’s probably a smart idea.” Toushiro agreed, his mind whirling sharply. Then he sighed, smirking, and continued off towards the Tenth Division, a confident bounce in his step.

“I suppose I’ll just consider myself gender-neutral for now, though I don’t think I’ll mention that to anyone just yet.” the young captain thought casually, tapping at their chin with a slender finger. “It will make things easier for me.”

The young person’s Zanpakutou shifted and lifted his massive, scaled head, puffing ice against the inside of his master’s wintry soul.

“As you wish, Hatchling.” Hyourinmaru hummed, then fell silent. Toushiro turned around a corner, passing by the Ninth Division’s storehouses calmly. Dozens of shinigami were bustling about this area, unlike most of the rest of Seireitei, where shinigami were mostly found in twos and threes. Hitsugaya watched for a moment, then continued on towards their division, glad that the Tenth kept a running inventory as things came in and exited their stores, instead of whatever that inventory chaos was. The young ice-captain supposed that Muguruma-taicho preferred it that way, though.

They had just reached the edge of the Tenth Division’s sprawling, scattered complex when the unmistakable sound of gossiping shinigami reached the young captain’s sharp ears. Suddenly their surname rang in the air and they froze, green eyes flashing emerald with curiosity, then slowly inched forward to peer around the corner of a building. A group of four Tenth Division unseated were sitting lazily on the ground, chatting amongst themselves.

“Are you sure that’s true, Tomoya?”

“I heard Fifth Seat Kawamori-san talking about it with Third Seat Takahashi not three days ago!”

“The captain was really wearing one of the lieutenant’s headbands? Somehow I doubt that.”

“It was floral. Patterned with flowers.”

“Could anything be any girlier?”

“You say that Kawamori-san actually saw that?”

“I’m telling you, that’s exactly what I heard!”

“That’s weird to think about, honestly. The captain acting all girly? I can’t picture it...”

“I know, right? My clan would have a fit if that was true, and frankly, so would I. It’s disgusting.”

“Oh, can it, Hiraku. The Miyamoto clan is bonkers anyway - you’re proof of that.”

“Hey!”

“I kinda agree with Hiraku though - the captain acting like a girl would be really weird. I don’t know if it would be disgusting, though. I mean, Unohana-taicho and Soifon-taicho are scary-strong, and they’re women.”

“The point is that the captain is male, Kiyoko, and for him to suddenly be acting like a girl is completely and utterly reprehensible. If this rumor is true...ugh, I don’t know what I’ll do. Hopefully my clan will be able to do something to remove that filth from power. I would feel sick knowing that some obscene fag was in command.”

“Hiraku, watch your tongue - don’t call Hitsugaya-taicho that! Besides, the captain would still be able to command us just fine even if he was a girl, so I don’t see-”

Toushiro felt their icy temper snap, and with a sharp cough they strode out in front of the group, their arms crossed, their emerald eyes narrowed. The group of unseated whirled around to gape at the ice-wielder.

“Don’t you four have anything better to be doing?” Hitsugaya hissed, the storm of anger breaking in wild fury over the sweet golden tan of their face. The oxygen support tube in their nose was momentarily forgotten. “Because I think that if you lot are bored enough to talk about me like that behind my back, then I could put you to work scrubbing the entirety of the Seireitei’s sewers alongside the Fourth Division members.”

All four of the shinigami paled violently, shaking in terror, and slowly, one of them stood up - Miyamoto Hiraku, incidentally, as if he hadn’t been the intolerant, foul-mouthed bastard who’d casually sullied Toushiro’s honor with the derogatory names.

“H-H-Hitsu-g-gaya-t-taicho...We-we didn’t m-mean-” he tried, but Toushiro cut the horrified man off.

“Shut up!” the ice-spirit snarled. “I might still be recovering right now, but I can and will bifurcate you if you so much as speak my name again! How dare you slander me behind my back! How dare you! What kind of discipline is this?!”

The four shinigami fell utterly silent, trembling in the face of the captain’s vicious wrath.

“Get up, all of you.” the white-haired captain spat. “I’ve half a mind to tell Zaraki that you four are willing to become his training dummies, so you damn well better behave your freaking selves while I find your commanding officer.”

The only girl of the lot burst into silent tears, and the three guys looked like they envied her ability to sob, so pale were their faces and so red were their eyes - stupid gender roles. But they trailed behind Hitsugaya obediently as the furious young teenager stalked like a snarling panther through the Tenth Division and into the now-crowded main training ground, where one of Toushiro’s junior Thirteenth Seats was busy leading a kido lesson with some of the less capable of the Tenth’s shinigami.

 The usually cheerful air of the training grounds went still and silent as the grave as Toushiro stormed across the earthen ground, the blazing ice of the dragon-captain’s reiatsu whirling thick and cold about them. All eyes were on the ice-captain, most wide in trepidation, and flickered to the group of white-lipped, almost-sobbing unseated shinigami standing shamefacedly behind the building blizzard.

“Thirteenth Seat Yoshida Junko, front and center.” Hitsugaya growled out, and with a hard swallow the bright-blonde woman came over to stand in front of them.

“S-sir.” she said nervously, her gaze switching to the foursome standing behind her captain. Her dark eyes turned wide in understanding and horror. It was rare for Hitsugaya to pass on a dressing-down to a shinigami’s superior officer, but when it happened, it meant that the benevolent ice-drake coiled about Toushiro’s frozen soul was about ready to wet his great muzzle with blood.

“These four are under your jurisdiction, correct?” they hissed, their snarling voice soft but carrying effortlessly across the courtyard. Junko felt her heart sink.

“Yes sir.” she said, her shoulders drooping miserably. Hitsugaya didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Can you tell me,” the furious captain growled, “exactly why your subordinates thought it would be acceptable behavior to spread rumors about me and call me derogatory names behind my back? After swearing an oath of unbreakable loyalty to the Tenth Division and to me, no less?”

The Thirteenth Seat glared hard at her subordinates, her mouth falling slightly open in disbelief.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Hitsugaya-taicho, sir.” she said, her voice thick with budding anger and shame. “I thought they knew better...”

“Clearly not.” Hitsugaya snapped icily, glaring daggers at the four who had insulted them so deeply. The training grounds were deathly silent, and as Matsumoto ran forward onto the scene a soft murmur of apprehension went up. The lieutenant was extremely protective of her captain - she was even more dangerous than the ice-wielder when the young captain’s reputation or character was abused.

“I don’t even care about the context, but when someone calls me an ‘obscene fag’ it obviously demonstrates a complete and utter lack of respect for authority as well as blatant contempt of a commanding officer.” Toushiro spat venomously, their breathing quick and shallow, their lungs beginning to fail as all the yelling put unnecessary stress on the still-healing organs. Hitsugaya caught their breath after a moment, however, and wheeled around to face the four unseated shinigami, emerald gaze blazing with draconic fury. “Regardless of how I am rumored to act on my own time - which you should not be speaking about in the first place - you four swore an oath of loyalty to me and are required by law to uphold that no matter what! Does this vow mean nothing to you?!”

For a moment there was silence, and the unseated woman, Kiyoko, sobbed even harder. The men on either side of her looked to be on the verge of complete and utter panic. Hitsugaya was gasping for breath by now, their lungs tight with lack of oxygen. They felt dizzy, and the world was spinning around them like a top. But then Matsumoto, her ashen reiatsu rising viciously, spoke. Her voice was unnaturally soft.

“...What did they call you, Taicho?” she asked, her tone flat. Her expression was devoid of any warmth, her blue eyes on fire. Her hand drifted back to Haineko’s hilt, and the entire training ground flinched. Toushiro turned to her, trying weakly to speak, but they couldn’t. Matsumoto’s eyes widened upon seeing the oxygen tube in her captain’s small nose, and saw then what nobody else did - Hitsugaya was suffocating. They’d yelled too much for their still-weakened lungs to handle.

“Oh god, Taicho!” she yelped, rushing forward to help her captain. She reached out to them, supporting their weight for a brief moment as they sagged against her, wheezing, their intelligent green eyes glazing over. The entire courtyard broke into worried shouts, several of the senior officers rushing forward to help their captain and lieutenant.

“Easy, Taicho, just breathe...” Matsumoto told her friend and captain, her expression worried. Toushiro, their head starting to clear as the oxygen support revived them, nodded weakly, well aware that the buxom lieutenant was the only thing keeping them on their feet. Junko gaped in horror at her captain, suddenly realizing that her subordinates had forced the white-haired teenager into their current gasping state. She turned on the group with a furious glare.

“I hope you four are proud of yourselves.” she snapped at them heatedly. “How dare you speak of Hitsugaya-taicho so rudely! Even if he was...oh, I don’t know...even if he was some sort of LGBTQIA+ individual, speaking about him in such incredibly derogatory terms would be entirely unacceptable!”

The four winced. Matsumoto glared at them, her lips pressed together in a thin line, rubbing slow circles into Hitsugaya’s strong back as they attempted to suck in enough oxygen to calm their racing heart.

“You four should be glad that it was Taicho who caught you.” she said, her tone devoid of any kindness, leaving only blistering wrath. “I don’t think that you would have survived my anger.”

“Enough, Matsumoto.” Hitsugaya choked out, their breaths slow enough now for them to relax somewhat. They coughed into an elbow, their chest still heaving, though it was clear that the oxygen tube was doing wonders. “Thirteenth Seat Yoshida, I am placing these four on probation - one more incident like this and I will personally see to it that they exit the Gotei 13 in disgrace. Your squad will be relieved of active duty for the next two weeks and relegated to doing chores alongside the Fourth Division. If any of your subordinates protest, direct them to any one of these four and ask them to explain exactly what they’ve done - although considering the publicity of this punishment, I’m sure they’ll understand precisely what their comrades have done.”

The ice-captain turned to go, Matsumoto still standing watchfully at their side, when Miyamoto Hiraku, in a show of both incredible bravery and incredible stupidity, stepped forward.

“...but sir, is that rumor true? That you were wearing one of the lieutenant’s floral headbands?” he asked, swallowing hard. Wavering disgust flared in the minor noble’s eyes. Hitsugaya suddenly went very, very still. The entire courtyard listened with bated breath, watching as the white-haired captain shot an unreadable glance in Miyamoto’s direction. For a long moment even the sound of the wind ruffling the leaves of the trees seemed deafening.

“...yes, it’s true.” Hitsugaya admitted finally. The assembled mass of his division stiffened in shock, and Miyamoto’s face split into a sneer of repulsion.

“...that’s...that’s...” the unseated man spluttered, his face reddening. “So I was justified in my name-calling?!”

Hitsugaya’s glare was icy-cold.

“Don’t be stupid.” they snapped, a dragon’s vicious bite in their words. “First off, I’m all out of whack right now - I mean, what do you think happened to me in the Twelfth Division a few weeks ago? Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho freaking thought that it would be funny to spill a currently-irreversible drug on me that...gah, I’m a girl! The stupid drug turned me female, and there’s no counter! So me acting a bit irregular should be permissible!”

Miyamoto blinked in surprise, as did everyone else assembled. Toushiro massaged their temples, appearing stressed, but in reality they were thinking hard about how to word their next few ideas so that nobody fell into an uproar.

“And second...” they said, one hand drifting back to Hyourinmaru’s hilt in warning. “Even if I had chosen to wear that thing without any reason other than me simply wanting to - because god forbid my gender preferences don’t match my biological sex - then you would still be completely and utterly out of line. Are we clear?”

The nobleman’s jaw dropped.

“You can’t be saying you support that kind of thing, Captain!” he protested. “I mean, obviously what you’re going through right now isn’t your fault, but-”

“Miyamoto, I’m biologically female at this point in time. By your logic, me pretending to be a boy for as long as I have been is morally wrong.” Hitsugaya said flatly. “And you just pointed out one of the key tenets of the LGBTQIA+ argument, you know - it’s not my fault that I don’t feel like I belong in this skin.”

Miyamoto fell silent suddenly, eyes wide as he realized what he’d just said. Toushiro tossed their head in derision.

“And yes, I support LGBTQIA+ people.” they said, rolling their eyes. “Their decisions don’t affect my personal life, and it makes them happy. Therefore, let them do whatever the hell they want. It’s not my business. And it isn’t yours either. Understand?”

Miyamoto closed his mouth with an audible snap, and Hitsugaya turned to their men, green gaze blazing.

“You lot heard that.” they snapped tonelessly. “So damn well get used to it.”

There was a moment’s pause, but then every single one of the seated officers saluted sharply, some sort of nameless understanding shining in their eyes.

“Yes sir!” they chorused. Hitsugaya nodded once.

“Good.” they bit out. “I’m going home, Matsumoto - I feel like crap from all the shouting.”

His lieutenant bowed deeply to him, then sighed deeply.

“Taicho?”

Toushiro threw a green glance over his white-clad shoulder.

“Yes?” he asked, peering over top of the oxygen backpack on his back. Rangiku smiled warmly.

“Momo-chan wanted to let you know that you’re going over to her house for dinner tomorrow night. She’s having a bit of a party.” she said cheerfully. “And she told me to let you know that you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Hitsugaya’s expression went soft, their lips curling up in a grin.

“Pushy Hinamori.” they said, shaking their head in fond exasperation. “Alright, thanks for telling me. I’ll be sure to hide myself well when she comes looking for me.”

Rangiku smiled widely.

“Renji, Kuchiki-san, Ichigo-kun, and Izuru will all be going, and me as well.” she said, winking knowingly at the suddenly flustered ice-wielder. “And I know that you’re on medical leave, as well as knowing all your hiding places. If you skip out on this, we’re going to hunt you down. As Momo-chan said, you don’t have a choice, and you don’t have an excuse like paperwork to stop you.”

Hitsugaya opened their mouth soundlessly, gaping like a fish at their wicked lieutenant. Then they groaned and massaged their face wearily.

“I give up on you people.” the ice-captain grouched. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

Matsumoto cheered, and several of the division members started laughing quietly. The scene was relatively familiar. Matsumoto and Hinamori often bullied Hitsugaya into social events, and everyone in the division knew about it. Hitsugaya grumbled at them in mortification, crossing a pair of sun-kissed arms over their developing chest and storming off in a huff.

“Aw, Taicho, come back!” Matsumoto laughed, smiling, and Hitsugaya scowled at her, continuing to march away.

“Hell no.”

Chapter Text

Dinner at Hinamori’s was extremely pleasant, Hitsugaya decided, even if Abarai’s brash attitude coupled with Ichigo’s overprotective personality after they’d both eaten was an explosive combination. At least the rest of them had fun watching the pair of morons beating each other up. Rukia was the only one who didn’t seem to find it funny - and it was her actions that Toushiro was laughing hardest at.

“Renji, you complete imbecile!”

“Ow, Rukia!”

The redheaded lieutenant started hopping around on one foot, the petite shinigami woman having nailed him in the shin with a hard kick. Ichigo was grinning with schadenfreude in the background, sitting next to Toushiro on the couch with his arm thrown loosely over the back of the low sofa. Hitsugaya’s backpack of oxygen sat between them, and from time to time Ichigo checked the pressure gauges on it anxiously. Hitsugaya let him do so, pretending not to notice. He knew that Ichigo was still feeling unusually guilty over the Adjuchas incident in District 44, and the nasal cannula definitely wasn’t helping anything.

 “Guys, calm down!” Momo said, waving her hands frantically at the irate Rukia and her prey. “We’re all friends here!”

“Only when Renji isn’t being an ass, you mean.” Ichigo laughed. Rukia whirled on him with a growl, but before she could inflict any damage, a small hand smashed into the back of Ichigo’s head. The substitute’s face was slammed into his knee, bruising his chin.

“Ow! Toushiro!”

Everyone stared. Toushiro huffed irritably, brushing their downy white hair from their eyes.

“I’m allowed to pull shit like that.” they said loftily. “Kurosaki was annoying me, and I outrank everyone here.”

Ichigo massaged the back of his head, groaning, looking rueful.

“Remind me not to annoy you in the future...” he grumbled, though a smile twitched at his lips. “You’ve got a nasty punch.”

A pleased flush of golden-rose shaded over Toushiro’s pale cheeks.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Ichigo’s smile widened.

“It was most definitely meant as one.” he confirmed, and Toushiro rolled their eyes at the boy, though the satisfied smirk stayed on their pink lips. Matsumoto leaned back into the chair, resting her head on Kira’s shoulder in a friendly sort of way, watching her captain from across the room. Momo bounded over to sit next to her sibling’s buxom lieutenant.

“This is going too perfectly!” the brunette girl whisper-cheered, smiling broadly, and Matsumoto grinned, watching slowly as Ichigo’s arm stealthily crept down from the top of the couch until his hand rested on the couch cushion next to the kimono-clad captain. The young ice-wielder was wearing a pretty shade of deep burgundy with long winter sleeves, and the warm wine color went remarkably well with their gold-toned skin.

“I’ll say.” the woman smirked. “Taicho’s been smiling for a full fifteen minutes, and his eyes have barely left Ichigo-kun’s handsome face. And Ichigo is being really subtle about it, but it won’t be long before his arm shifts just a bit more and loops over Taicho’s shoulders.”

Renji dragged himself to a chair, whimpering as his shins protested, and Rukia collapsed opposite the ‘wounded’ redhead with a huff of annoyance. Then she looked up at the white-haired captain.

“Hitsugaya-taicho, thank you for managing to knock Ichigo back into line.” she said with a smile. Toushiro paused.

“You don’t have to call me ‘taicho’ when I’m off duty, Kuchiki. Hitsugaya is fine.” they said slowly, and the entire room froze. Rukia felt her expression light up.

“Really?” she asked. Hitsugaya nodded once, smiling slightly.

“Of course.” they said. “...neither do you, Kurosaki.”

The ear-splitting smile on the substitute’s face was like an igniting sun, almost blinding in its brightness, and Toushiro couldn’t help but flush in the face of that radiance. For a moment all the icy little taicho could see was the joyful glow of Kurosaki’s gaze, the molten chocolate of that stare. Then they shook themselves, shivering a bit at the butterflies surging suddenly through their stomach. Rukia (& Matsumoto & Hinamori too) was grinning broadly at the duo behind their backs, almost bouncing up and down in her chair. Toushiro looked like a baby deer caught in the headlights of the substitute’s grin, helpless, and Ichigo looked like a child presented with a large, prettily wrapped package for no reason - ecstatic.

“Thank you, Hitsugaya-san.” Rukia chirped then, her smile bright, the folds of her ice-pink dress rippling over her lap. Toushiro nodded at her, their burgundy kimono gathered neatly about their slender ankles. Izuru and Renji watched in confusion, and then the blonde man opened his mouth in bafflement.

“ Are you alright, Hitsugaya-taicho?” the blonde man asked. Hitsugaya shot a careless glance his way.

“As much as I can be with this stupid thing.” they said, gesturing at the oxygen backpack in no slight disgust. “Why?”

Kira shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, you see...a sort of rumor has been floating around Seireitei...” he said, and almost everyone except Renji, who was also in the dark, winced. Toushiro stiffened, lips pressing together in a thin line.

“A rumor?” they asked flatly. “What sort of rumor?”

Kira shifted uncomfortably.

“That Kurotsuchi-taicho turned you female, Hitsugaya-taicho.” Renji answered for the discomforted lieutenant, his gaze disapproving. “People are saying that you’ve been acting funny, and they’re blaming it on that. Of course, it’s a load of bullshit, but-”

“It’s true.”

For a long moment, there was silence, and then Izuru blinked at the captain. Hitsugaya seemed a bit fidgety, but otherwise perfectly calm, as if they were merely discussing the weather.

“It’s...true?” the Third Division Lieutenant asked in disbelief. Renji gaped. Hitsugaya sighed a long-suffering sigh.

“Yes, it’s true.” they said patiently. “At the moment, Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho is working on the counter, but until then I’m stuck like this.”

The redheaded lieutenant tugged on his ponytail in shock.

“R-really?” he squeaked out, looking somehow terrified. Hitsugaya rolled their eyes.

“Oh my god, boys.” they said, a dismissive, disbelieving inflection hidden in the young teenager’s smooth voice. Then Hitsugaya reached around behind their torso and pulled the relatively loose burgundy cloth wrapping their frame taut against their golden skin. Two soft swells rose into sharp profile on their chest. Renji and Izuru squeaked. Toushiro rolled their eyes again, then let the cloth go, hiding their breasts once again. Matsumoto positively squealed.

“Oh, Taicho, I didn’t know you were so bold!” she teased. Hitsugaya glared at her, crossing strong arms over a slender chest.

“For gods’ sake.” the golden-skinned young woman said with a uninterested flick of their dark eyelashes. “The idiots needed proof. And for the love of ice, eyes on my face, Abarai!”

Renji flushed scarlet, withdrawing his stare, and with a deep blush across their face Toushiro scowled at the lieutenant.

“What is it with guys and their obsession with ogling girls openly?” they grumbled. Hinamori and Matsumoto started laughing, as did Rukia.

“Welcome to our world, Hitsugaya-kun.” Hinamori giggled. “And think of poor Rangiku-san! With a chest like hers, everyone stares, even other girls!”

“I think I’ll spontaneously combust if every man I come across does that to me. Why do guys do that?” the young captain complained, their button nose wrinkled up, and their soft lips pursed in disgust. But suddenly Izuru spoke up, his blue eyes wide and his shy voice unusually strong.

“Hitsugaya-taicho...are you referring to yourself as female?”

The convivial atmosphere suddenly evaporated. Matsumoto and Hinamori visibly tensed, as did Rukia, and Izuru and Renji exchanged long, puzzled looks. The tension in the air couldn’t be cut by even Zangetsu, which was leaning against the sword rack in the far corner of the room, Hyourinmaru’s gleaming silver length abnormally close to it. Toushiro was sitting frozen, delicate hands fisted in their robes, taking long, slow breaths through the tube in their nose.

Inside, Hitsugaya’s mind was whirling. They hadn’t expected to be caught - and by a lieutenant, no less. They could admit to the slip-up and tell the room the truth, even though most of them knew it anyways, or they could give the expected answer that they were technically female. But that would only make things harder later on down the road when they wanted to come completely out of the closet.

They needed to start distinguishing between allies and opponents now...but it was violently nerve-wracking...

Suddenly a large, warm hand covered their small fingers, curling around into their cool palms, and suddenly Toushiro could hear their heart pounding in their ears. Ichigo was looking down at them with something like encouragement in his brown eyes, the bright shock of his hair a focal point.

Trust me - tell them, his face seemed to say.

Without realizing it, Toushiro slipped their hand into Ichigo’s and held tight, fingers interlacing, their soft white bangs falling into one eye. They took a deep breath, then looked Izuru straight in the face, refusing to avert their gaze. Ichigo rubbed his thumb over the back of the smaller shinigami’s hand in silent reassurance.

“It was for good reason.” Toushiro said quietly, knowing that they were skirting the issue. Izuru was just about to further speak when Hitsugaya continued, their voice soft.

“I’m gender-questioning.” they said. Then Toushiro smiled a little bit, a buoying wave of confidence sweeping through them from the palm of his hand and the tips of his fingers, as if Ichigo’s mere touch was enough to remind them of their strength. Izuru and Renji stared for a solid minute, gaping.

Then Renji glanced up at Ichigo, his stare incredulous.

“Oh hell, he’s another one of you weirdos.” the lieutenant said, outwardly dismayed, but a grin was twitching at his lips. “So one of my superior officers is gender-questioning, one of my best friends is bisexual...what next? Momo, you and Rangiku aren’t going suddenly start making out, are you?”

Momo and Rangiku looked at each other in surprise, and after a moment Rangiku winked at the other lieutenant.

“Maybe. Momo-chan is pretty cute.” the flirty woman said. Hinamori laughed, then with an utterly straight face turned the buxom woman down..

“Sorry, I’m straight.” the girl said with a saddened expression. Rangiku laughed as well, blue eyes flashing.

“Well, that’s okay. So am I.” she said with a grin.

“...I’d hope so...” Izuru said softly, glancing up at Hitsugaya and Ichigo with some discomfort written across his face. “Er...Hitsugaya-taicho...are you sure that-”

Toushiro raised a hand to cut the man off in midsentence, their gaze cool and slippery.

“Twenty years is a long time, Kira-fukutaicho, even in the life of a shinigami.” the young captain said flatly. “I’m more comfortable this way - more myself this way.”

Kira shifted.

“But you were born male for a reason, right?” he tried again, and Toushiro felt Hyourinmaru growl in the back of their head. The emerald stare fell cold on Izuru’s face.

“And I was born stronger than you for a reason also, I suppose?” Toushiro asked coldly. “I was born able to attain Bankai for a reason, perhaps? Didn’t seem to do much against Aizen. Sometimes coincidence is just coincidence. Like you being Ichimaru’s lieutenant.”

Kira’s expression turned hurt, and his eyebrows knitted together on his forehead. The lieutenant’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

“That was uncalled for, Hitsugaya-taicho.” he accused quietly. Toushiro’s eyes flashed.

“And you trying to tell me how I should behave was also uncalled for, Kira-fukutaicho.” Hitsugaya reminded the gloomy man with a scowl. “Do I really need to pull rank on you over this? I’m not asking you to condone it, I’m asking you to tolerate it - especially if I end up transgender.”

Kira stiffened, dark blue glare flickering unhappily.

“I don’t know if I can, Hitsugaya-taicho.” he said honestly. “To be completely frank with you, I think it’s incredibly wrong - unnatural, almost. It’s extremely discomforting.”

A quick flame of bluewhite reiatsu ran along the ground, and suddenly the entire room was covered in a thick layer of crusted rime. Toushiro’s scowl deepened into terrible anger.

“All of my previous reincarnations were female, if that makes you feel more comfortable, Kira-fukutaicho.” Hitsugaya snapped, almost rising. Ichigo tugged the young ice-wraith back into their seat gently, running a soothing hand over their shifting waistline and without a second thought wound a pair of strong arms about the slender waist. Toushiro fell back with an ‘oof’ into Ichigo’s lap and immediately went bright red. The ice melted instantly.

The substitute ignored Toushiro’s struggles to escape and looked at Izuru from underneath his orange fringe.

“Hey, Izuru. Have you ever seen Toushiro smile?”

“It’s Hitsugaya, Kurosaki, and let me fight my own battles.”

“Oh hush and stop wiggling around; I can handle this.”

Izuru watched the exchange between the two with growing trepidation, but then realized he’d been asked a question. Slowly, he shook his head.

“I can’t say I have...” he replied warily, and Ichigo nodded approvingly.

“Okay, that’s fine.” he replied. “Now, just think for a moment. Before tonight, what did you think Toushiro’s personality was like?”

Izuru frowned.

“I don’t see how this is relevant...” he trailed off uncertainly, and Ichigo rolled his eyes, pulling Toushiro’s shallow curves flush against his chest for a moment.

“Just answer.” he snapped a bit brusquely. “And I told you to stop squirming, Toushiro.”

“Let me go, Kurosaki!”

Izuru blinked.

“I, uh...” he swallowed hard. “Hitsugaya-taicho always...always seems very uptight to me. He is very serious...focused...self-sacrificing.”

Ichigo nodded agreeably.

“You mean he’s a stick in the mud that doesn’t have a life outside his office?” the substitute asked cheerfully, prompting a squawk of protest from Toushiro. Ichigo groaned, then dumped the young almost-woman onto the couch beside him. Izuru stared, watching as Toushiro’s expression alternated between flushed anger and blushing shyness.

“Er...that’s a bit blunt...” he said hesitantly, and Ichigo shrugged.

“Yeah, but that’s what you meant, isn’t it?” he asked offhandedly. “Now, considering what Toushiro just told you, why the hell do you think he’s all closed up like a frightened turtle in that office of his?”

“Kurosaki!”

“Oh, shut it, Toushiro, I’m trying to help.”

The proverbial lightbulb went off in Kira’s head.

“...because he can’t do what he wants to do.” Izuru said softly. “Because he wants to behave like a girl, but can’t.”

Ichigo nodded.

“Toushiro is cold because he has to be to hide his inner self, not because he wants to be a cold-hearted bastard, Izuru.” Ichigo explained. “He’s actually a right sweetheart when he sets his mind to it. I saw him in the Living World a few weeks ago - that’s when Rukia and I found out that he’s questioning - and...oh god, he must have been smiling the entire time. And he had fun.”

Izuru was silent, and so was Toushiro, who was staring at Ichigo like they’d never seen the man before. Kurosaki’s expression was somewhat self-righteous.

“Now, I’m not trans or questioning, so I don’t speak entirely from experience.” Ichigo said. “But I’d hazard a guess that it’s goddamn painful to deny yourself all the time; to suppress every instinct you have because it’s ‘not proper’ for a boy to be playing around in a dress.”

Izuru gazed down at his feet, and Kurosaki continued.

“It doesn’t affect you if Toushiro decides that he’s going to be a girl for the rest of his life. It just makes him happier. Why is that such a bad thing?” Ichigo reasoned. “Look, I get it makes you uncomfortable, and that’s totally okay. It’ll hurt Toushiro for a bit, but you’re allowed to dislike the whole affair. But if you actually care about the person, then for their sake alone, you’ll try to become comfortable with it. Or at least you won’t try to discourage them.”

“Kurosaki...” Izuru started, glancing from him to Toushiro and back again. “Hitsugaya-taicho...”

Toushiro was still frozen under Ichigo’s arm, the oxygen in their nose puffing softly, but they managed to acknowledge the lieutenant with a nod. Izuru hesitated.

“I...I won’t discourage you, at the very least, Hitsugaya-taicho.” the blonde man said.  Then he seemed to gather his resolve. “But I still think this is wrong.”

Toushiro felt something in their heart crack minutely, but he gathered his courage and spoke.

“And I know it’s right.” he replied quietly.

After the argument, the dinner party wasn’t quite the same. Toushiro was withdrawn, and stuck close to either Ichigo, Matsumoto, or Hinamori, and Izuru was simmering anxiety, a wary sort of repulsion swimming off him in waves. True to his word, he said nothing when Hitsugaya joined in the girls’ conversation concerning the art classes they’d all taken, and mentioned to Rukia that they were planning on returning to her brother’s calligraphy lessons. But his expression was distinctly uncomfortable.

When they finally decided to part ways for the evening, Hinamori rose and took Izuru’s arm, leading him firmly from the room with a frown fixed upon her pretty face. The other lieutenant followed nervously, and after the door shut behind them and their voices drifted away, the pair’s reiatsu began flickering angrily. They were obviously arguing. Renji, Rangiku, Rukia, Ichigo and Toushiro sat silently in Hinamori’s living room, the atmosphere tense.

Suddenly, there was a hard swallow.

“Hitsugaya-taicho...do all the other captains know of your current state?” Renji asked cautiously. Hitsugaya looked up at the redheaded lieutenant, the jade stare cool and dry.

“Unohana knows. So does Ukitake. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kyoraku and Yamamoto know by now as well - according to Ukitake, they had suspected for a long time that being male wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. I haven’t said anything to anyone else, though.” the teenager replied. “They all know that Kurotsuchi turned me into a girl.”

Renji bit his lip, his tattoos wrinkled on his forehead because of the concern on his face.

“I’d recommend telling them as soon as possible.” Renji said, his expression unusually serious. “I know I’m not in any position to give you advice, but the rumors flying around Seireitei will turn nasty quickly. If you want any sort of support, you have to tell the other captains before they hear the dirty side of the gossip. I know that Kuchiki-taicho in particular would prefer to hear this from your mouth rather than from the gossipers of the Sixth.”

Toushiro nodded, folding their hands in their lap, but they were visibly worrying their bottom lip with their teeth, clearly indicating their hesitancy. Rukia jumped in then.

“Hitsugaya-san, Nii-sama won’t judge you.” she said hurriedly. “He’s fairly friendly with Shihoin Yuushirou, and Shihoin-sama is-”

“Transgender, I know. Yoruichi told me.” Hitsugaya finished, lips quirking. “...Are you sure your brother won’t take this badly?”

Rukia shook her head.

“I highly doubt it.” she said, smiling. “Nii-sama thinks highly of you - he admires your effective leadership and efficiency. That’s all he really cares about.”

Toushiro shifted, their feet curling together on the smooth floor, and they slid the oxygen backpack onto their back.

“...then I suppose I’ll let him know tomorrow, after the calligraphy lesson.” Toushiro said finally, and Rukia grinned broadly, then remembered her rank and hurriedly hid her smile.

“If you’d like, I’ll hang back for moral support. If it goes badly then we can head to the restaurants and grab lunch on me.” she offered. Toushiro’s emerald gaze flickered with something nameless, and then a slight smile curled their lips up.

“That would be appreciated greatly, Kuchiki.” Toushiro replied, their voice warm. “...Thank you.”

Ichigo stood up then and stretched, his shihakusho rustling quietly. He grabbed Zangetsu from the polished wooden stand by the door and slung the giant meat-cleaver over his back with a smile.

“I should probably head home. Let me know how Byakuya takes it, won’t you, Toushiro?” he asked. Hitsugaya glared.

“It’s Hitsugaya, Kurosaki. And yes, I will tell you how Kuchiki-taicho responds to the news.” the young captain said with a stress on the surnames and titles. Ichigo just waved him off with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, you always say that.” Ichigo laughed. “But anyway, have you seen the Star Wars movies? There’s a new one coming out and I was wondering...”

The shinigami all blinked. A few crickets chirped in the background. Ichigo facepalmed.

“You haven’t heard of Star Wars, have you?”

As one, all the shinigami shook their heads, Rukia included. The substitute sighed.

“Alright, fine.” he said. “I was going to invite you to come see the seventh Star Wars with me in theaters, but if you haven’t seen the first six there’s no point. I’ll just have to get you guys up to speed first.”

Rangiku’s face lit up.

“Movie marathon?!” she asked excitedly, and Ichigo nodded.

“Yep. All of you better show up at my house next weekend armed with pajamas, snacks, and a crap-ton of caffeine, because I’m going to show you all six of the Star Wars films back-to-back. No sleeping!” he warned, shaking his finger at them. The seventeen-year-old’s expression turned playful. “How dare you not know Star Wars! Ignorant shinigami!”

“Pot. Kettle.” Toushiro replied dryly, but they were smiling. “Who are you inviting? I’m assuming everyone here?”

Ichigo nodded.

“Everyone here, and then Momo-san as well. Possibly Ikkaku and Yumichika, but movies aren’t really their speed, so maybe not.” he said. “Feel free to bring a plus one. And gigais are unnecessary - my entire family can see spirits.”

Renji whooped.

“Party at Ichigo’s!”

“Next week, you ass!”

Whack!

“Ow, Rukia!”

Toushiro laughed softly, watching as the petite shinigami girl stood over her two idiot friends, both of whom were whimpering and clutching at various body parts.

“Kuchiki, I think you and I are going to be very good friends.” the ice-captain said with another laugh. Rukia grinned back at the captain.

“I hope so, sir!”

Ichigo whined pathetically up at his crush in supplication from where he was sprawled on the floor, and Toushiro made a face at him.

“Moron.”

Chapter Text

"I did not expect to see you here again, Hitsugaya-taicho."

Toushiro tilted their face away from the large scroll unrolled in from of them, where they had been painstakingly copying down one of their favorite Lao Tzu quotes in traditional Chinese characters. They were planning on writing a translation in Japanese on the back, but for the moment they felt that the Chinese would do a better job of conveying the meaning, and most shinigami could read a myriad of other languages due to the soul's innate gift of communication.

"I found calligraphy calming, Kuchiki-taicho. Why would I not return when I have an abundance of free time?" they said after a moment, setting their brush aside and rotating the slender wrist to work out some of the kinks

The tall Captain of the Sixth Division regarded his younger colleague for a moment, then sat seiza next to the white-haired teenager, taking a finished scroll and coolly evaluating it. Kuchiki-taicho's calligraphy class was almost over for the day, and the stoic captain no longer needed to demonstrate some of the finer techniques to his curious students - which included a baffled-looking Abarai, several scattered officers and unseated men from various divisions, and a somewhat-strained Kuchiki Rukia.

"I am glad you find it so." Kuchiki said, his pale lips twitching in what could have been mistaken for a smile if you squinted. "May I ask why you have chosen to write in Chinese?"

Toushiro folded their hands in their lap, the neat navy-blue of their off-duty kimono contrasting beautifully with their golden skin. The navy headband that Ichigo had given them a fortnight ago was settled gently in their hair, the winking silver threads offset prettily by the navy background. A pale turquoise scarf was wrapped around their neck, matching the neat obi at their waist and masking the trail of their nasal cannula, and the young person toyed absently with the scarf's folds while considering the question. When they next spoke, their tone was thoughtful but uncharacteristically soft.

"Lao Tzu was Chinese, and thus wrote in Chinese." they said simply. "I cannot be true to his meaning if I change his words. Nothing should hide behind a mask for the benefit of others' understanding and comfort."

Kuchiki-taicho's eyebrows rose at the articulate response, as if he was not expecting the philosophical answer, but after a long moment his slate grey stare melted into something slightly more understanding. For a while longer the two captains continued to write their sloping calligraphy side-by-side, and as various members of the calligraphy class packed up and left, Toushiro added the final, careful stroke to the flower motif they were painting in the lower left corner of their scroll. They smiled down at the paper, satisfied by the result, and set the brush aside.

Rukia, her smile flickering with something like apprehension, watched the final few stragglers leave the Kuchiki manor, Abarai included, then lifted her dark-haired head to peek at Hitsugaya's work.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly, inadvertently drawing the two captains' attention to her, and then drawing her elder brother's gaze to Hitsugaya's finished work. The Kuchiki clan head blinked at the scroll in something like deep appreciation. Hitsugaya, however, stared at her for a second, looking confused.

"Hitsugaya-san, that's beautiful!" Rukia praised, gazing at the thick paper in awe. Hitsugaya had painted a delicate lotus blossom, fully open, in a pale shade of full, fiery scarlet, and perfectly imperfect Chinese characters ran down the right side of the long scroll in two columns. The ink had faded out at exactly the right points, leaving the aesthetic of the piece fully and completely intact.

Toushiro glanced down at it, tipping their head to the side critically.

"...thank you, Kuchiki." they said, tucking a loose strand of their white hair behind one gold-toned ear.

"Which quote of Lao Tzu did you choose to script there?" Rukia asked curiously. Her brother shot her a nonplussed stare - Rukia knew how to read almost every language in the world. Her gift of communication was much stronger than it was in most other shinigami. Why was she asking?

It appeared Hitsugaya knew this too, for they gave the Kuchiki princess a flat look.

"You can read Chinese, can you not?" the icy captain said with a raised eyebrow. Rukia nodded once.

"Yes sir, but I didn't want to read over your shoulder - or so to speak." she said with a smile. "Renji sometimes makes very personal scrolls in Kuchiki-taicho's class, and he gets annoyed with me when I catch sight of them."

The ghost of a smirk passed over Toushiro's pretty face, and not for the first time that day, Rukia saw a feisty young woman with a predator's fierce jade glare sitting before her.

"I can see Abarai doing that." the young dragon said with a fierce twinkle of mirth in their gleaming emerald stare. "And I appreciate your thoughtfulness - this quote does indeed have a great deal of personal value to me. But I'm not averse to sharing, if either of you would like to read it."

Rukia's cheeks pinked with pleasure, and she lowered her gaze to Hitsugaya's scroll and read. Her expression softened, and she looked up to see that her brother's slate eyes were somewhat blanker than usual, mulling over Hitsugaya's choice of quote.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

"Is that why you painted a red lotus, Hitsugaya-san?" Rukia asked after a moment.(1) Toushiro nodded slowly.

"That's one reason." They admitted. "But the lotus blossom is Hyourinmaru's symbol, and the red lotus in particular is the flower of my Bankai. The lotus is therefore my symbol as well. It is not a secret, yet few seem to have realized that..."

Rukia looked in askance at her elder brother, who blinked at his younger colleague in shock.

"The lotus flower is the emblem of the Royal Family, Hitsugaya-taicho. The Royal Guard are the only shinigami who are permitted to claim that flower as a symbol." the stunned nobleman said blankly. Toushiro's pink lips curved up in a small smile, the expression somehow sweet and ferocious in the same moment.

"Oh, I'm well aware." they said, an unusual spark of cheer in their voice. "As the dragon is the mark of the Soul King, no? But I am an exception. I can't help the quirks of my soul, nor Hyourinmaru's little eccentricities. He claims the lotus flower, and so do I."

Suddenly the room grew cold, and a thin sheen of frost crept over Hitsugaya's soft navy kimono, spreading onto the ground. A pale layer of white, hyper-dense reiatsu gathered around Toushiro's slender frame, throwing into distinct highlight the shadow gradually deepening beneath their breasts and the sloping curve of their waistline and widening hips. Kuchiki-taicho's jaw dropped, worrying Rukia into a breathless panic, but then the flare of tightly controlled power faded, and she could breathe again.

"My god."

She lifted her head to stare at her elder brother.

"N-nii-sama...?" she asked, watching as her ever-noble brother gasped in dawning realization. The Sixth Division Captain ignored her.

"...Do you realize what you are? Now that Kurotsuchi has flipped your gender?" the dark-haired man breathed. Hitsugaya cocked their snow-capped head to the side, staring expressionlessly at the nobleman from underneath a soft white fringe.

"I think so." Toushiro replied, a startling amount of vulnerability present in the waver of their voice. "Hyourinmaru's already worrying over me. But I should be asking you that question."

Both Kuchikis paused, the elder of the two looking puzzled, but then Rukia was covering her mouth with her hands and squealing. She knew. They'd been talking about it at Hinamori's dinner the night before. Hitsugaya was going to spill the beans!

"H-Hitsugaya-s-san!" she squeaked out, eyes wide, and the amused captain looked at her and grinned somewhat confidently.

"Your sister has reassured me that you are friendly with Shihoin Yuushirou?" Toushiro asked calmly. Byakuya inclined his head incrementally, his expression suddenly softening somewhat in implicit understanding.

"You are also transgender?" he asked. Toushiro shook their head.

"Not yet, but it's likely." they replied peaceably. "I feel more myself now that I'm living in a girl's body. For the moment I'm considering myself gender-neutral."

Byakuya took the news surprisingly well, his expression not changing. However, his slate-grey gaze was keen, piercing with understanding.

"You feared telling me, did you not?" he asked quietly. "As the head of one of the Four Noble Houses."

Toushiro chuckled at that, the emerald of their glare blazing.

"Fear is too strong a word, Kuchiki-taicho." they replied, a hidden bitterness in their words. "But yes, I was wary. Hyourinmaru has already warned me once of the fate that befalls my kind."

Byakuya raised a thin eyebrow, but said nothing for a long minute. Then the nobleman stood and offered his fellow captain his hand in a surprisingly genteel gesture. Toushiro blinked up at him, then delicately laid their hand over top of Byakuya's own and allowed the tall noble to assist them to their feet. The Sixth Division Captain turned to his sister.

"Rukia, if you would accompany Hitsugaya-taicho and I - I wish to show them something in my study." he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And given the history of the noble clans and the royal family when it comes to certain members of the shinigami society...I think they would feel safest with a relatively neutral party acting as an escort."

Rukia stiffened, but the understanding expression that crossed Hitsugaya's tanned face made her swallow hard and move into position on Hitsugaya's right.

"Yes, Nii-sama." she said, her voice strong.

The trio exited the room in which the Kuchiki clan hosted the calligraphy lessons and Byakuya guided his colleague back towards the private part of the Kuchiki Manor with quick, urgent steps. The air was chilly - October was almost over - and both Rukia and Toushiro reveled in the cool air passing pleasantly over their skin. However, all too soon the trio arrived at Byakuya's study. Hitusgaya gazed out over the stone garden for a moment, then followed their fellow captain into the airy study, sitting down on a provided cushion in polite seiza. Rukia sat next to her newest friend, glancing their way in concern.

Byakuya perused his shelves for a long moment, then plucked an old book of records from the shelf and sat down across from his colleagues, fluttering the pages. Then he seemed to find what he was looking for.

"This is last dragon or phoenix that was brought into my clan." he said, his tone firm. "It has not happened in six hundred years - the practice was deemed immoral by the clan elders at that time. You may look and see the proof yourself."

Rukia blinked in bafflement, but Hitsugaya had gently taken the old book and was reading it, emerald eyes shining. Then the young ice-wielder let out a long sigh of relief and returned the old tome with a cordial nod.

"It is nice to know that the Kuchiki clan is as honorable as is their Head of House." Toushiro said quietly. "Thank you."

Byakuya shook his head, setting the book aside for a brief moment. His expression was one of utter concern.

"Now that you have seen the evidence of my trustworthiness, listen to me well, Hitsugaya-taicho." the stoic captain warned lowly. "I do not know the extent of your knowledge, but you must know that your freedom and the succession of Seireitei are at stake, yes?"

That caught Toushiro's attention.

"The succession?" they breathed, and Rukia felt her jaw drop. Byakuya nodded.

"Those who bear the true power of either a dragon or phoenix bear the lineage of the King of Soul Society, Hitsugaya-taicho." he said, his tone suitably hushed. "If you, as a woman, fully master your Zanpakutou, you will be considered a dragon in your own right and may challenge the current Queen and her family for the throne."

Toushiro let themself choke on air.

"What?" they exclaimed. Byakuya raised an eyebrow.

"You did not know this?" the older captain asked. "It is part of the reason your fellow dragons and phoenixes are so sought after by the noble clans and the royals."

Toushiro's face tightened.

"And the other part is sheer power." they said stiffly, their expression cold. Rukia's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"Hitsugaya-san, Nii-sama what are you talking about?" she asked. Toushiro turned a pained, angered gaze on her.

"My Hyourinmaru is a dragon, Kuchiki." they said, their tone sour. "The dragon is the mark of the Soul King, and the phoenix is the mark of the Queen. Thus, the power of these Zanpakutou is many times stronger than most other Zanpakutou, and thus their wielders are targeted."

Rukia looked to her brother, who nodded in repulsed confirmation.

"It only happens to certain wielders of dragon or phoenix-Zanpakutou." the tall noble said coldly. The skin around his eyes crinkled with anger. "The gender of the wielder must oppose their Zanpakutou for this to be a danger, because only then can the full power of the Zanpakutou be properly balanced. Yamamoto-soutaicho is thus sheltered from this unfortunate fate, as was Hitsugaya-taicho. Dragons must have female wielders, and phoenixes must have male wielders for their true potential to be unlocked."

Rukia was still confused - what happened to these people?

"I don't understand." she said, her voice puzzled, and so Toushiro's upper lip snarled into a grimace.

"We're abducted, Rukia." they said, fury seething in their tone. "When I transition, I'll become a target for the nobles and royals. If I'm then overpowered and taken, Hyourinmaru's spirit will be sealed, crippling me, and I'll be forced into a marriage I don't want. If I resist even that, then there will be some who stoop to rape. After all, it's not me they want. They want to...to breed Hyourinmaru's power into their families"

Rukia looked to her brother in horror, who merely closed his eyes, silently confirming the younger captain's words. The Kuchiki princess gasped.

"Oh my god." she said softly. Suddenly her brother's face creased, and he directed a curious look Hitsugaya's way.

"You said when."

Toushiro looked up, baffled by the knowing smile twitching in a ghostly manner at the corner of Kuchiki-taicho's mouth.

"Pardon?"

Rukia's violet eyes widened, and she laughed, realizing then what her brother meant.

"Hitsugaya-san, you said 'when I transition,' not 'if I transition.'" the girl said, smiling widely. Toushiro blinked.

"Dammit, I did it again." they said, chuckling quietly to themselves and running a hand through their short white pixie cut. Fidgeting somewhat and flushing a golden-rose, they slid the navy blue and silver headband from their soft white locks and then smoothed it back into place. "I'm trying to take it slow, trying not to rush into things, but...agh, I just can't help myself."

Byakuya cocked his head to the side, considering the young person before him with some mild amusement. Rukia was trying hard not to laugh at her fellow ice-wielder, and as the tall captain watched Toushiro turn a small smile onto his younger sister, he knew he had to make some stance. The elders wouldn't like it - they'd be vicious towards the budding young woman before him if they discovered it before he took a firm position on the issue. But even for all his reputed social disinterest, he could recognize the beginning of a friendship when he saw one. If Rukia was nurturing a growing friendship with the authoritative young captain, then he should do everything in his power to help that relationship along. Hitsugaya was a powerful ally and a dangerous foe, and he had a great respect for the youngest of the captains. This friendship would be very good for Rukia.

And besides, it would probably be advantageous to side with the could-be queen. If the royal family did indeed launch an attack against the youngest captain, and fell to Hyourinmaru's bite, then having a very positive history with the ascendant ruler would be a great boon. Even if he did privately consider the entire transgender aspect startlingly odd.

"So you have decided to become female, then?" he asked Toushiro blankly. The young captain paused, then shrugged.

"More or less." they said softly. "I find that I keep thinking of myself as a girl on accident. But I'm still experimenting, really, still trying to find myself."

The stern captain nodded, mulling this over in his mind, then made a decision.

"...Rukia."

His sister immediately turned to him, her smile shrinking into attentive obedience. Byakuya tipped his chin in his colleague's direction.

"I believe," he began calmly, "that you have a fitting for a new furisode this afternoon, yes?"

Rukia's eyebrows dipped together on her forehead, but she confirmed her brother's statement. Byakuya exhaled softly.

"Take Hitsugaya-taicho along with you, if they wish to go. You have several kimonos which they may enjoy trying on, and if they do indeed choose to come out as a transgender female, then it will be useful for the Kuchiki clan's seamstresses to already have their measurements on hand."

Toushiro went a bit pink in the cheeks, and they hesitantly blinked at the Kuchiki head, their expression utterly bewildered. Byakuya smiled faintly at the endearing, flustered befuddlement.

"It is tradition for every every young woman to receive a silk kimono upon reaching adulthood, is it not?" the Sixth Division Captain asked rhetorically. "If you do choose to transition fully, it would honor me if you would allow the Kuchiki House to gift you with your first furisode."

Rukia's entire face lit up like a bright beacon and she turned to Toushiro with a brilliant smile on her face. Hitsugaya was staring, mouth open, flabbergasted by the generosity they were being shown. Formal, silk kimonos - especially furisodes, considering their elaborate sleeves - were not cheap, by any means. The average shinigami was barely able to afford one, and that was the price of a man's kimono, which was much less elaborate than a woman's. Hitsugaya only possessed four formal kimonos in total, complete with accompanying hakama and haori. Of course, they had never enjoyed men's kimonos quite as much - most captains were more than able to afford a decent number of kimonos, and they were no exception, so four was a relatively small number. But still. The fact that Kuchiki was even offering this...

"Hitsugaya-taicho?" Byakuya prompted, causing a splutter of disbelief to spill from Hitsugaya's lips.

"I...I..." they stammered, entirely at a loss for words. Then they swallowed hard. "I do not know what to say, Kuchiki-taicho..."

Rukia laughed, the gratitude in her gaze as she fixed it on her brother easily detectable. She'd been hoping that her brother would take the revelation well, but this was even more than she'd hoped for.

"My Nii-sama doesn't offer gifts he is not willing to give, Hitsugaya-san." she said with another laugh. "I would recommend that you accept."

Toushiro spluttered for another moment, but at the barely perceptible nod from Byakuya, they cracked and gave with an emotional whisper of gratitude. The Sixth Division Captain realized then just how tense the still-frail young person had been, how nervous Hitsugaya had been to reveal this weighing secret. His expression softened incrementally.

"Hitsugaya-taicho, have confidence in yourself." the taller captain advised quietly. "Those who will oppose you have not your strength, and the Kuchiki will shelter you. You should not be afraid."

Hitsugaya lifted their eyes, emerald gaze burning with something cold and fierce but also deeply fearful, a paradoxical wealth of timidity and ferocity caught in that frozen expression.

"I have already had one of my men refer to me as, and I quote, an 'obscene fag.' That was before I revealed what happened in the Twelfth Division." Hitsugaya murmured. "I fear losing my subordinates' confidence, nothing more. For years I worked to gain their respect, which was slow to come because of my size, and now I stand on the brink of losing their trust again. It's a difficult precipice to comprehend falling from, especially since I struggled so hard to climb up."

Byakuya considered this for a long moment - he knew it was a valid fear - when Rukia interrupted his train of thought.

"Those who are loyal to you will stay regardless." she snapped. "Those who are attracted to you for your power and reputation will leave if they take issue with this. You won't be losing anyone who truly matters in the long run. Stop being so scared already - you're reminding me of Ichigo before he learned how to control his Hollow!"

Toushiro's head snapped up, a layer of ice blazing in their eyes.

"Need I remind you whom you speak to, Kuchiki?" they bit out coldly, and Byakuya was about to scold his sister for speaking out so rudely, but with a flash of violet, Rukia effortlessly held her ground.

"Need I remind you who you are, Hitsugaya-san?" she said, her voice heated. "You are the prodigy who graduated from Shinou Academy in seven months. You are the youngest person in the history of Soul Society to have achieved Bankai. You were the only captain to suspect foul play when I was on death row, and you were the only person who tried to go to Central 46 to stop everything! If your achievements are not enough to make your subordinates respect you regardless of your gender, then they don't deserve to serve under you!"

There was a brief silence, and then Byakuya raised an eyebrow at his sister and the stunned mop of white hair. Rukia flushed abruptly, realizing that she'd just shouted at a captain. A captain who she was slowly beginning to consider a friend.

"I...I apologize, Hitsugaya-taicho." she said then, bowing in their direction. A slightly sheepish laugh greeted her.

"I told you to drop the title when I'm off duty." they chided. "...besides, everyone needs sense knocked into them from time to time. I'm not Kurosaki...but I think I needed to hear that from someone. Thank you."

Byakuya relaxed somewhat, reassured that the ice-captain wasn't going to freeze his little sister solid. Then he stood up, once again helping Hitsugaya to their feet and carefully readjusting the oxygen backpack they wore. Then the nobleman took his leave of the pair with a polite nod, and Rukia escorted the young captain to the entrance to the Kuchiki Manor.

"So. That wasn't too bad, was it?" she asked, and Hitsugaya paused. They smiled faintly.

"No, it wasn't." they admitted gracefully. "...thank you for your support."

Rukia smiled and bowed halfway.

"Anytime, Hitsugaya-san." she said with a grin. "Are...are you still up for grabbing lunch?"

The young captain's emerald gaze sparkled.

"Definitely." they said with a smirk. "Then I suppose you'll have your furisode fitting..."

"Which I'll ask Matsumoto-fukutaicho to drag you to if you don't come willingly." Rukia interjected, drawing an irate look from the captain. She flinched, but the smile didn't slip off her face, and Hitsugaya's shoulders sagged in amused resignation. Inwardly, Rukia cackled with laughter. So she was also now allowed past the cold outer shell, was she?

"You'll have your furisode fitting." they continued deliberately. "And then if you'd like, you could invite yourself over to my house. I've developed an addiction to baking and now I have entirely too many cookies and brownies at home."

Rukia's violet eyes went wide.

"Oh, yes please!" she exclaimed, expression rounding out. "Chocolate is-"

"-a girl's best friend!" Hitsugaya finished with a laugh. "I know, I know."

Rukia slid her arm through the ice-captain's, her smile winking brightly, and together the pair of petite ice-wielders went off.

"Come on, Hitsugaya-san - I know of a great cafe in Rukongai that makes a mean miso soup..."

Chapter Text

Side note - Karin & Toushiro have never met. Yeah. Just roll with it.

Enjoy!

"Thoughts"

"Zanpakutou"

Toushiro shuffled nervously outside Ichigo's door, Rukia, Matsumoto and Hinamori giggling a little ways ahead of him. Renji was also there, as was Chad, and Toushiro wouldn't be even the least bit surprised if Ikkaku showed up at some point, though apparently Yumichika was on patrol. Ikkaku showing up would be a problem, however, considering that the Third Seat was the only one in the group who didn't know of Hitsugaya's newly-developed crossdressing tendencies while in the World of the Living, nor of his gender-neutral status. Given his close friendship with Yumichika, however, it would be extremely unlikely that the battle-oriented shinigami would actually care.

Rukia knocked loudly. It was fairly early in the afternoon - around one - but Ichigo had insisted that all the shinigami make sure to take the entire weekend off. Apparently the movies were thirteen hours long put together, and they'd need some serious recovery time.

"Oi, Strawberry!" she called. "Open up!"

There was a muffled shout from inside the house, and a few minutes later the door swung open wide to reveal a scowling Ichigo. Two young teenagers stood just behind him, their eyes curiously peering at the assembled group, and with a start of realization, Hitsugaya knew that the pair of unfamiliar girls had no trouble seeing them.

"My name doesn't mean strawberry, Rukia!" he snapped, and Toushiro smirked at the annoyed expression on the carrot-top's face. They'd have to remember that nickname for later.

Rukia waved him off.

"Yeah, whatever, Ichigo." she said. "Are you going to remember your manners and invite us in, or will we have to kick you over?"

"Rukia-nee, don't hurt Onii-san!" the blond girl behind Ichigo said, leaping in front of him with childlike tears in her eyes, though she was smiling as she hugged Rukia. She and her sister were wearing casual clothes - sweatpants and t-shirts, and suddenly Toushiro wondered if they were a little overdressed. But then they felt Ichigo's gaze land on them, and a starstruck grin and deep pink blush spilled across the substitute's face.

"...oh." he said breathlessly. "Damn, Toushiro."

Hitsugaya felt their cheeks heat and a small smile spread across their face. They shuffled their feet in slight embarrassment, and without another word Ichigo held the door open for them to all pass through. Everyone was mostly silent, throwing knowing smirks in either Ichigo's or Toushiro's direction, and as Toushiro stepped through the doorway and toed off their black Converse, they felt Ichigo's warm hand settle on their shoulder.

"I knew that dress suited you. I mean...you look very nice." the substitute said awkwardly, and Toushiro felt butterflies flitter around in their stomach. They went pink again.

"...Uh...um, thank you." they said,, their voice pitched at least an octave higher than it was normally. They weren't about to admit that they'd worn the blue dress simply because they knew that Ichigo liked it. Of course, that hadn't even crossed their mind even once. (They hadn't stopped thinking about Ichigo's reaction)

There was a sudden cackle of laughter from the table, where Rukia and the darker-haired of Ichigo's younger sisters had headed towards the smorgasbord of junk food. The dark-haired sister had turned round and was smirking wickedly at her older brother.

"Hey, Ichi-nii. That wouldn't happen to be the 'Shira' chick you keep waxing poetic about would it? 'Cause she looks way out of your league." she asked, smirking broadly. Ichigo's face went bright crimson, and he lunged for his younger sister with a muffled roar.

"KARIN!"

Toushiro watched in shock as the carrot-topped shinigami tussled with his grinning sibling, who seemed to have no trouble kicking him repeatedly in the face and groin. They could feel a sort of lightheaded dizziness rushing through them slowly, and a slightly shy smile crept onto their pink lips. Renji looked from Ichigo to Hitsugaya in bewilderment, but Rukia, Hinamori, and Matsumoto all looked positively delighted. Even Chad seemed to be chuckling somewhat.

The young captain adjusted their oxygen backpack on their back, swinging it off their left shoulder and peering down to check the oxygen gauge carefully, hoping that the dizziness wasn't a sign that their supply was wearing thin. However, the gauge held steady at the half-way mark, and so they slipped their left arm through the straps again and followed Matsumoto over to the couch, which was arranged in front of the television with a few other armchairs and some squishy pillows. Toushiro threw down their bag of things, which also had Matsumoto's pajamas tucked away in a side pocket, then sat down lightly on the couch, curling their legs underneath their blue skirt, the geometric pattern on its surface rippling. They knew that they were blushing furiously, but at the same time, feverish thoughts were racing through their head at breakneck pace.

Ichigo talked about them at home? What did he say? Why was he even mentioning them in the first place...? Did boys usually talk about girls they liked to family members? Hitsugaya wouldn't know - they'd never been interested in gossiping about girls when they were male - but from what they remembered, it was fairly common for boys to discuss girls they liked with friends. Perhaps family would fall in the same category?

Did Ichigo's heart flutter the way theirs did?

Suddenly Toushiro felt their mouth go dry. They were wearing a light, clear lip gloss tonight; the kind of thing that would only be noticeable if someone was really looking, but suddenly they knew - just knew - that Ichigo had seen the moist shine. The orange-haired shinigami's look had been, for lack of a more accurate word, heated. The warmth in that handsome chocolate gaze was stunning.

The butterflies in Toushiro's stomach churned viciously, and they could feel their slender hands trembling. Slowly, they tried to calm themselves down, with little success. Inside their soul, Hyourimaru was purring in his benevolent fashion, his calmness a lifeline for his frantic shinigami.

"Are you afraid of denying your heart, Toushiro-chan?" the great dragon rumbled. Toushiro slowly moved their hand to their chest, gently touching the place where their heart lay hidden beneath muscle and bone. Suddenly they gathered their courage, emerald softness in their eyes hardening to jade.

"No." they replied forcefully. Their courage melted into soft determination and pliable warmth. "I suppose this is what having a crush feels like, then?"

Hyourinmaru rumbled with laughter.

"Well, do you get butterflies in your stomach whenever you see Kuchiki-taicho or Ukitake or Kyoraku?" the wise dragon coached gently. "I think you are truly beginning to understand your own heart. But I think that you may need some help."

"...I think this calls for...oh, what did Rangiku call them, again? A 'girl meeting,' or something like that..."

"That may help, yes."

Toushiro let a smile spread onto their face, and they looked up to see a confused Rukia standing in front of them with a juice box in her hands.

"Hitsugaya-san?" she asked, starting in surprise as the young crossdresser stood up and grabbed her wrist.

"Hinamori, Matsumoto, would you come with me for a second?" they called. "Kurosaki - I mean the orange-headed moron - is there someplace private I could talk to these three?"

Ichigo blinked, looking up from the DVD player. He'd just slid 'The Phantom Menace' into the slot, and Renji and Chad were sitting cross-legged on the floor with a gigantic bowl of cheese popcorn. His two sisters were still sitting at the table, snacking on the myriad forms of junk food, but as Toushiro spoke, they perked up. Ichigo's expression turned a bit worried.

"Er...what's wrong...?" he asked.

Before Toushiro could answer, the two Kurosaki girls bounced up, then ran forward, seizing Rukia, Hinamori, Matsumoto, and Toushiro by the wrists. The honey-haired Kurosaki looked over her shoulder with a brilliant and disarming smile.

"Oh, I've got this, Onii-san!" she chirped brightly, pulling the shinigami towards the stairs with a surprising amount of strength, the dark-haired sister following her. "I know exactly what's wrong, and don't worry, we'll fix it really soon, okay? You go ahead and set up the movie!"

Ichigo didn't even get a chance to respond, because then the honey-haired girl was dragging Toushiro and Rukia up the steps and into her room, her twin sister close behind her. When all six of the girls were inside, the dark-haired twin shut the door and with a casual flick, locked it tightly. She grinned, then turned around, looking the startled shinigami in the face.

"First things first before this gets all gushy. I'm Karin." she smirked. "My sister is Yuzu. I know about Shira-hime over there - Ichi-nii can't shut up about her - and Rukia-nee is obvious, but you two are?"

Matsumoto and Hinamori looked at each other in shock, then quickly introduced themselves. Then Yuzu clapped her hands with a sweet smile.

"Yay!" she cheered. "Oh, I'm so excited!"

Toushiro blinked, fidgeting. They'd been forced into a chair while everyone else stood, and it made them somewhat self-conscious.

"...Uh, why?" they asked tentatively. Yuzu froze, them wagged her finger at the white-haired captain.

"I know what it means when someone drags all their girl-friends out of a room where there's a guy who's been eyeing them." Yuzu said, smiling. "You are Shira, aren't you?"

Slowly, Hitsugaya shrugged.

"My name is Hitsugaya Toushiro." they said, and Yuzu and Karin's faces suddenly crinkled up in surprise at the masculine name. "But Shira does sound like something Kuro- er, your older brother - would call me."

Karin bounced down on her bed, flopping backwards.

"Are you trans?" she asked bluntly, but then her gaze dropped to Toushiro's chest, and her face screwed up in confusion. "...um, wait..."

"I am gender-questioning. Seireitei's Research and Development accidentally spilled a gender-change tonic on me. That's why I'm currently a girl." Toushiro said easily. It was getting easier to tell people the more he practiced it. He'd made the rounds among the captains before showing up, letting them each know, and he'd found that the mostly indifferent responses had substantially numbed his nerves. Only Komamura, Kyoraku and Yamamoto had showed any emotion - Komamura had groaned, shook his furry head, and warned his fellow captain to be careful, and Kyoraku had practically exploded, he'd been so happy.

Yamamoto had been trickier; the old man had initially taken the news extremely badly, even going so far as to accuse them of intentionally destabilizing Seireitei by coming up with 'such unreasonable claims.' But then the old man had calmed, seen the irrationality of his actions, gave the young captain standing shakily before him a long, unreadable look, then drawn the young dragon-wielder into an unexpected embrace. Ukitake had been entirely right - the old man had ended up quite excited over the prospect of 'an unruly young lady running about the place.' The old man had been very stern, however, much to Toushiro's surprise. They'd expected to be asked to report the news of their change in gender, if they chose to transition...but Yamamoto ordering them to get permission to date? What the hell?

But Yamamoto had been very firm. He was taking all veto power on the potential boyfriends. End of discussion. No arguments. If the Soutaicho disapproved of a boy, then Hitsugaya would not be allowed to even look at said boy.

It made Toushiro's cheeks burn just thinking about it.

"Anyway, why did you two pull us in here?" they asked, shaking the memory from their head. "I didn't expect this."

Karin and Yuzu exchanged long looks.

"Yeah, you're definitely Shira." they said in unison. Then Yuzu stepped forward.

"So anyway, I guess you need help trying to figure out if Onii-san likes you back, right?" she asked with a smile. Toushiro went pink, jaw dropping.

"How...?" They trailed off helplessly, fisting their slender hands in their skirt. Momo, Rukia, and Rangiku's eyes went wide, and they suddenly cheered, Momo quite loudly.

"Shiro-chan, why didn't you tell me?!" she squealed, jumping on her sibling. "Oh, I just knew you two had the best chemistry!"

"Momo, get off!" Hitsugaya protested. "I only just sorted it out!"

Rangiku was dancing around in a show of glee in the corner of the room, and Toushiro turned to her next with a scowling pout.

"Matsumoto, cut it out!" they sulked. "Fine, I was coming to ask you for advice. Happy?"

Rukia and the Kurosaki twins laughed.

"Very!" Rukia said brightly. "Hitsugaya-san, you don't really need to do anything at this point. Ichigo's had a crush on you ever since the Winter War ended. It's part of the reason he and Chad broke up - both of them had crushes on other people, and they preferred their friendship anyway."

Toushiro's golden face went even pinker, and they shifted uncomfortably. The Winter War had ended nearly a year ago. Yuzu jumped and down, smiling brightly.

"Oh yay, yay, yay!" she danced around. "This is so perfect! Rukia-nee, you can take over pestering Onii-san, right?"

Rukia winked at her fellow ice-wielder.

"What do you think I've been doing?" she asked with a wide smile. "Chad and I have been trying to wear away at Ichigo's reservations for a while now. But now that I know the feelings are mutual, he won't stand a chance!"

Hitsugaya flushed in embarrassment and averted their eyes, fidgeting nervously and toying with the clear tube around their face. Matsumoto's expression softened.

"Taicho, you don't have to rush into this." she reminded them gently. "You don't have to be anything more than friends with Ichigo if you don't want to be."

Toushiro sent a derisive though fond look their lieutenant's way.

"I think I've felt this way about Kurosaki for a while." they said quietly. "But...I don't know. There's a lot more to this than you realize. Kuchiki knows most of it already, though I don't think she realizes the implications..."

Rukia raised an eyebrow, then remembered. Her eyes grew large.

"Oh. Oh, you're right." she whispered. "But that's only if you fully transition, right?"

Toushiro shrugged despondently.

"I have no idea. Biologically, I can carry children at this point in time, which may be the only thing that the royal family is waiting for." they said anxiously. "If that's the case, I don't want to put Ichigo in danger like I did in District 44 - don't argue with me, Matsumoto, that Adjuchas was my responsibility - but I...I get this fluttery feeling whenever I'm around Ichigo. And I...I don't know. It's so confusing."

Rukia's lips pressed together into a thin line, but before she could say anything, Momo batted her sibling on the head with a frown.

"Shiro-chan, Ichigo defeated Aizen." she reminded the white-haired captain with a frown. "And his strength hasn't decreased any since then. And you've only kept growing more powerful since the Winter War. He can handle danger, and so can you. Besides, if you two do end up dating each other, you'll have the other person to rely on, and I think the oxygen you're using proves beyond any reasonable doubt that you'd sacrifice yourself to keep Kurosaki-san safe. And he chose to defend Seireitei against Aizen despite the fact that he's still half-human and has no responsibility to us."

Hitsugaya looked up, rubbing the crown of their white head ruefully. A slightly sheepish expression flickered over their face. Rukia pounced on it, her face set in stubborn belief.

"Come on, Hitsugaya." she said. "Go with it! Ichigo likes you, you seem to return his feelings, and the two of you together are powerful enough to take on most of the Seireitei. What are you worried about?"

Toushiro ducked their head, blushing faintly, and suddenly Matsumoto intervened, her voice gentle.

"Taicho..." she sighed. "Fear doesn't become you, you know."

"...I know." the young captain murmured. "...I can't help it. This is different than facing down an Espada or ten."

The shinigami laughed at that, understanding precisely what the blue-clad captain meant, and said captain lifted their head, a slight smirk darting across their face. For a moment their confidence seemed to return.

"Rukia, you said that Ichigo...well, that he likes me, right?" they asked. Rukia blinked, a slow smile spreading across her porcelain face as she heard her given name slip from the ice-captain's tongue.

"Oh, most definitely." she replied. "Right, Karin, Yuzu?"

The twins nodded, Karin with a roll of her eyes, Yuzu with a ebullient smile. Matsumoto and Hinamori exchanged long looks, and then the older woman knelt down in front of her captain, taking their softened chin in her hand. She could still remember the chiseled slant of her captain's jaw before Kurotsuchi had accidentally turned them female, and the curving slope of the cool jawline felt unfamiliar in her hands. Matsumoto gazed up into the green depths with unusual wisdom.

"Toushiro." she said their name tenderly. "I know how careful you are with your heart. But you can't close yourself off for the rest of your life. You're becoming a young woman - thanks to Kurotsuchi - and regardless of whether you choose to be transgender or not, all young people go through relationships, good and bad."

Hitsugaya looked at her, the soft white of their lengthening pixie-cut/bob tickling gently against the sides of their pretty face.

"You think I should try it?" they asked plaintively, looking around the entire room, uncharacteristically nervous. For a few moments, there was silence, and then Rukia spoke up, her voice firm.

"I think you should be the fearless Hitsugaya-taicho we all know and admire." she said firmly. "It's who you are. Act with confidence! You are who you are, and your heart is your own! I've said it before, and I'll say it again - those who are loyal to you will stay with you no matter the cost. Even if by some freak accident Ichigo was actually thick enough to reject your feelings, keep your courage! We'll be here for you if everything goes badly, and you know our opinion of you won't change."

Hitsugaya gaped for a long, silent minute, then shook their head wistfully, a smirk crossing their face.

"Kuchiki, you've grown entirely too comfortable around me for my tastes." They said with a lopsided grin. Rukia rolled her eyes, blushing faintly.

"You and Ichigo are more alike than you think." she said, looking anywhere but the amused captain's face. "You both internalize too much, and you're both thick-headed. It takes a figurative sledgehammer to get anything through Ichigo's skull when he's actively trying to ignore it - you seem to be the same. Less bull-headed maybe, and more receptive to criticism."

Toushiro flicked their fingers, releasing the barest wisp of their icy-bluewhite reiatsu, and without warning the entire room was sheathed in thick, glassy ice. The ice-captain tried not to be surprised at the sheer amount of ice that had formed at the pinprick of reiatsu they'd unleashed, and melted the crystalline ice in the next instant. All five of the girls stared at them, the lieutenants and Rukia more so.

"More receptive to criticism? Are you sure?" Hitsugaya asked playfully, emerald gaze flashing, ice crystals clinging to strands of the white hair, sparkling like diamonds. Hinamori shuddered at the wicked expression on her sibling's face, and even Matsumoto looked a bit nervous, but Rukia held her ground with a spreading grin.

"Yes." she said certainly. "I don't have to kick you to get you to see my point."

Toushiro burst into laughter at the offhand comment, smiling, and Rukia grinned more widely at them. Then the Kuchiki princess walked over to the door and unlocked and opened it, jerking her head at the opening.

"Alright." she said with a grin. "Go for it while you're still smiling. We're right behind you."

Hitsugaya swallowed hard, then stood up and strode confidently out of the Kurosaki twins' room and descended the staircase with light footsteps, the butterflies in their stomach churning up a pleasant storm. Hinamori was right behind them, her encouraging giggles sending a tingle of familiar courage to the cool heart. Hyourinmaru roared thunderous approval in their chest, the icy drake's strength buoying his master effortlessly into the glow cast by the TV screen. The movie's menu screen glowed brightly in the dim room, revealing that Ichigo had sat down on the couch, leaning against the armrest with a remote in his hand, his other arm thrown over the back of the couch. He looked up as the girls came back in.

"Ready to start the movie?" he asked, his gaze seeking out Hitsugaya's. Karin and Yuzu bounced down the stairs cheerfully, one with a wicked look in her grey eyes. Quickly, they ran around to plop themselves down in front of the TV, dragging Hinamori and Rukia with them, as they snatched a few large bags of chips on their way to the floor. They sat next to Chad and Renji, and quickly started sharing the popcorn and chips easily. Matsumoto made herself comfortable on the other end of the couch, leaving a decently-sized space in between her and Ichigo. She winked.

Toushiro felt their brief confidence wane into schoolgirl nerves, but with a sudden, inexplicable whirl of beautiful warmth they laughed softly and sat down confidently next to the orange-haired shinigami substitute, leaning back into the warm cushions just beneath where the strong arm was thrown over the back of the couch. Their oxygen backpack was set on their other side and out of the way.

"Only if you're ready to get a move on." they quipped lightly, their voice laced with a sarcastic double-meaning. Ichigo blinked, then with a sheepish grin, started the movie, and as the colors and characters played out on the screen, Toushiro felt their heart slowly sink. Perhaps it had been too subtle a hint? But then the storyline started to draw in their attention, and they were hooked.

It wasn't until the credits of the first movie were rolling across the screen over two hours later that Toushiro realized what Ichigo had done. They glanced carefully at the large, warm arm wrapped protectively over their shoulders, and as Karin ejected the movie disk, and with a unladylike snarl in Renji's direction to 'get your gross hands out of the Pringles, pineapple-head' inserted the second Star Wars film, Toushiro came to a conclusion. They blushed fiercely, heart pounding in their ears, and as the words began to stream across the screen, they leaned back against Ichigo's firm chest, relaxing into the touch. With a soft hum of contentment, the ice-captain let their head rest on Ichigo's warm collarbone. The substitute froze, then whispered.

"Toushiro...?" he murmured into the smaller shinigami's ear. Hitsugaya shifted against him.

"It was my move." they whispered back, the emerald of their eyes reflecting the glow of the characters on screen and a certain nervous bravery, a sarcastic, floundering affection. Looking down at the crown of soft white hair nestled on his shoulder, beneath his chin, Ichigo couldn't help but smile, and he cradled the petite captain all the more gently for that soft admission. The two watched the remainder of the Star Wars movies in this fashion, Toushiro cuddled close to the orange-haired teenager, and as the night waned into the early hours of the morning and the sixth movie began to draw to a close, both Ichigo and Toushiro drifted off into sleep.

Chapter Text

Toushiro woke to the sound of bacon frying and the steady beating of a soft drum beneath their ear. For a long minute, they were content to remain perfectly still. They felt warm all over, and were more comfortable then they'd been in a long time, and the rhythmic beat beneath their ear was lulling them back to sleep. It was Sunday morning, Toushiro recalled lazily, eyes still closed. No reason that they couldn't sleep in.

But then the warm pillow they'd been using moved unexpectedly, and the memories of last night's movie marathon and ensuing cuddle session came rushing back.

Emerald eyes flickered open in surprise. An expanse of dark red before them in the exact shade of maroon that Ichigo's shirt had been yesterday greeted their immediate vision, and beyond that the TV, now dark and silent, could be seen. Toushiro froze up in disbelief. Had they fallen asleep on Ichigo last night?

The sudden lack of movement must have been palpable, because suddenly a sleepy hand drifted down from their shoulders and looped groggily around their waist.

"...mornin' Shira." Ichigo slurred, his voice sluggish but distinctly happy.

Well, that answered their question.

Toushiro closed their eyes, trying to figure out what to do. They could feel their face blazing with heat, but just remaining silent wouldn't be proper either...and then Rukia's fierce words from last night drifted through his mind, accompanied by the Lao Tzu quote they'd carefully scripted onto a scroll in Kuchiki-taicho's class the other day.

Act with confidence! You are who you are, and your heart is your own!

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

Loving someone deeply gives you courage.

"...morning, Strawberry." Toushiro muttered, embarrassed by the closeness of the embrace, their gold-toned skin flushing pink. Ichigo blinked to full awareness, then looked down at the delicate little dragon cuddled against his chest. His lips quirked, and he let out a groan.

"My name doesn't mean strawberry." he complained, though the smile was clearly audible in his voice.

Slowly, Toushiro sat up, stretching out the kinks in their back and yawning tiredly. The blanket that had been pulled over the pair fell from their shoulders.

"Moron." they said absentmindedly, and Ichigo's expression took a turn for the confused.

"...Toushiro? You okay?" he asked in concern, sitting up as well and placing a bit of distance between himself and the ice-taicho in an attempt to make the obviously-embarrassed captain more comfortable. Toushiro looked up, then ran their fingers through their hair and sighed.

"Fine...just...I don't know." they let out finally, sighing again in the same absentminded way. "...you're an attractive pillow, dammit."

Ichigo's cheeks reddened, and then after a brief staring contest of increasing incredulity, both Ichigo and Toushiro began chuckling. The taller shinigami reached out and took the small hand in his.

"And you're a freakin' gorgeous teddy bear." the substitute returned with a grin, brushing his fingers over the slender knuckles. "...What's the last thing you can remember from the movie?"

Toushiro shrugged.

"Er...I think Luke was on the Death Star, watching all of his friends get outmaneuvered by the Imperial Fleet and fighting Vader." the white-haired teenager said, rearranging their wrinkled blue dress around them. Ichigo pouted.

"Aw, you fell asleep after me!" the substitute complained. "I passed out around the time when Leia met the Ewoks."

"And you called me a teddy bear." Toushiro snorted then, and Ichigo started laughing for the second time. Toushiro flashed the tall almost-adult a shy smile. Then the oxygen bag sitting by Toushiro's thigh started to emit a high-pitched beeping, and the pair glanced down at the gauge to see that the current canister was dangerously low on oxygen. Ichigo paled a bit, worried, but Toushiro just sighed, picked up the backpack, and picked their way over the scattered sleeping bags and pillows that littered the floor from where all of the shinigami and Chad had slept. They knelt down by their bag and rummaged through it for a few moments, looking for a spare canister of concentrated oxygen.

It took a few moments, but after searching through the bag with increasingly frantic movements, Toushiro sat back on their heels empty hands, chewing their lower lip in distress.

"I forgot to pack a spare." they said. Ichigo paled.

"How bad is it if you run out?" he asked anxiously, kicking the already-crumpled blanket from around his ankles and standing up, crossing over to the kneeling captain. Toushiro looked at him with all the tautness of unhappiness in his gaze.

"Not terrible." They admitted. "But my stamina without the support has gone to shit. I'm not going to be able to run around much. The only real danger is that Unohana's probably going to kill me. I'm not supposed to be off the oxygen until next week - that's when I can start training again."

Ichigo sat down next to the smaller shinigami, looking guilty.

"...I'm sorry." He said. "This is my fault..."

Toushiro slapped him across the face, steel in that emerald stare. The hit wasn't terribly hard, as Hitsugaya hadn't intended for the blow to be too painful - it only smarted faintly.

"I'm not helpless, Kurosaki." they snapped, anger blazing in their eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I wanted to protect you. Get over it already."

Ichigo rubbed his cheek ruefully, staring at the snow-capped teenager before him in starstruck incredulity. Then he sighed and smiled.

"Alright." he agreed. "Do you want breakfast? Yuzu agreed to cook this morning. And if Dad gets back from his conference before you guys leave, I'll ask him for another oxygen canister for you."

Toushiro felt their anger fade away at the sight of Ichigo's warm grin, and they melted into quiet puddles of pliable mush, their insides suddenly convulsing uncomfortably. The butterflies had grown overnight into giant birds, twisting their stomach into knots, and with a shy nod, the ice-captain allowed Ichigo to help them to their feet.

The two walked around the back of the couch to the empty, though fully set, table, and the honey-haired girl manning the kitchen looked back at the two and smiled widely as they sat down next to each other.

"Good morining, Onii-san, Toushiro-chan!" she said, expertly flipping three pancakes in quick succession. "Everyone else is upstairs cleaning themselves up - you two can go do that after breakfast."

Ichigo nodded cordially to his little sister, his orange head bobbing.

"Okay. Thanks, Yuzu." he said. She giggled.

"Did you two sleep well?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows knowingly at a blushing Hitsugaya. "You looked mighty comfortable, all cuddled up together like you were."

Toushiro's face turned red, but before he could speak, Ichigo did.

"Obviously." Ichigo said with subtle scowl. "You know how grumpy I usually am in the mornings, Yuzu."

Yuzu giggled again, sliding several floppy, golden-brown circles onto a plate in a tall stack. Her brown eyes sparkled.

"Oh, it's almost noon." she replied. "The others woke up a little before you and went upstairs to change though, so don't worry. You get the piping-hot pancakes."

She set the plate down between them with a bright grin and shoveled two of the pancakes onto each plate.

"Enjoy!" she chirped then bounced back into the kitchen with a smile and continued cooking breakfast. Ichigo grinned and poured thick dark brown syrup all over his pancakes, then passed the bottle to Toushiro with a smile.

"Kurosaki, what is this?" Hitsugaya asked flatly. Ichigo shrugged.

"Maple syrup." he replied. "It's sweet - goes on top of your pancakes. You don't have to try it if you don't want to, but I think it's delicious."

Hitsugaya inspected the sticky liquid critically, then shrugged and dumped some on their pancakes as well.

"Might as well try some." they said, flipping the cap back on and setting the bottle down. Slowly, they cut off a piece of the pancake, and after a dubious glance Ichigo's way (who by this point looked something like a chipmunk) they took a bite out of the syrup-drizzled creation. Ichigo laughed at the sudden expression of shock on Toushiro's pretty face.

"Oh my god, that's like eating sugar cubes." Toushiro said, staring down at the pancakes in incredulity. Ichigo laughed again, choked, then started coughing, still smiling down at the petite shinigami. Toushiro kept staring at their plate.

"...How do you like this?" Toushiro asked, then paused. "...How do I like this?"

And just like that, they were devouring the pancakes on their plate like their life depended on it, their small, socked feet kicking aimlessly in the elated sugar-joy that always seemed to accompany the taste of sweet things. Ichigo felt his heart skitter to a pounding silence in his chest, his lips and tongue suddenly going dry. Seeing Toushiro sit there like that with the twitching smile on their gold-toned face, the full reality of the warmth in his chest was hitting home, the full realization of what Toushiro's actions last night had meant. The captain had sat down next to him. Allowed him to put an arm around their lithe shoulders. And then they'd leaned into his touch, resting their head on his collarbone as if they were entirely unaware of their unspoken admission in that simple movement. And finally, they'd fallen asleep still snuggled together on the couch. Hitsugaya had let that happen.

This beautiful winter princess had melted for him.

"Go out with me." Ichigo breathed. Toushiro froze, blushed.

"...what?" they squeaked out around the mouthful of pancake, and Ichigo felt his blood pounding in his ears.

"Next Friday?" he said, his mouth going dry. "I'll...I'll take you out for dinner?"

Toushiro's eyes grew to be as big as saucers. The young captain looked to be just about a small sixteen, and though the soft curves flourishing under their clothes would quickly dissuade anyone from seeing the young shinigami captain as a child, it was undeniable in that moment just how childlike the white-haired person looked. The soft lips parted in surprise, emerald stare shimmering with all sorts of nameless emotions, the soft shag of arctic locks kissing the sweet golden cheeks with snow.

But then a dazed smile spread across the beautifully blushing face, and Toushiro nodded.

"I...Okay." they said. "...Just as long as you know that I could go either way with this whole gender-neutral thing..."

"I told you, I'm bi." Ichigo cut in with an equally dazed grin. "And you were pretty drop-dead gorgeous as a boy, so don't sweat it."

Toushiro paused, then nodded again. Then they laughed faintly.

"What time?" they asked somewhat shyly, the golden-rose of their cheeks glowing.

"Oh, uh...how does a 7:00 reservation sound to you?" Ichigo asked. "I'll come through the Senkaimon to pick you up at 6:30, we can stop by Urahara's to get your gigai, and then head to the restaurant from there."

Toushiro hummed, eating the last bites of their pancake.

"I can handle that." they said. "...thank you, Ichigo."

The carrot-top blinked.

"For what?"

Toushiro swallowed and put down their fork.

"For just being you." they said, suddenly frowning down at their plate. "You're accepting, kind, protective to a fault, brave enough to be openly bisexual, goddamn stubborn..."

Ichigo laughed at the last one, then hit upon an important idea and nodded, mentally confirming it.

"Then I suppose I should thank you as well." Ichigo said firmly. "Because you're not afraid to come out of the closet you've been hiding in. Because you're brave and serious and sarcastic and ferocious and shy all rolled up into one icy snowball. Because you're you, you're Hitsugaya Toushiro, and you're not afraid of that."

Toushiro lifted their head with a smile, and without another word spoken, they buried their face in Ichigo's collarbone, arms wrapping around the orange-haired boy's strong neck. And like clockwork, Ichigo's arms wrapped around the smaller shingami's shifting waist, holding them close with all the gentleness of a lover.

Then the shorter of the two looked up with a wicked, playful expression on their face.

"Should we catch the little rats now?"

Watching the couple embrace from where they were spying on the stairs, it was all the girls could do not to break out into cheers of happiness - Karin excluded, though she was grinning wickedly. Renji and Chad watched from around the girls' shoulders. Chad was smiling his enigmatic smile. Renji was gaping.

With strangled squeal, Rukia started to bounce in place.

"Oh my god, Ichigo asked! He finally asked Hitsugaya-taicho out!" she shrieked quietly, her voice muffled by her hands, which were clamped firmly over her mouth. Hinamori was in a likewise state of glee.

"Shiro-chan has a boyfriend!" Momo squealed, her voice also strangled into almost-silence. "My bitty sibling has a boyfriend! Aiee, I'm going to explode!"

Matsumoto giggled behind a hand.

"Momo-chan, don't!" she whispered, and as one, everyone drew their heads back out of sight. "Taicho wouldn't want us to make a big deal out this!"

"Damn straight I wouldn't."

The gaggle of shinigami on the stairs screamed in fright at the sound of Toushiro's cold voice sounding from the top of the staircase, whirling around to find a very-unamused Captain of the Tenth Division standing there with their arms crossed over their growing chest. Matsumoto sweatdropped.

"Oh, Taicho, you don't have to be so annoyed!" she pleaded. "We're just-"

"Going to explode, perhaps?"

Ichigo's voice came from the base of the stairs, and though his tone was significantly warmer than Hitsugaya's, his expression was pulled into an annoyed scowl. Hinamori 'eeped' in despair. Rukia blanched, as did Renji.

"Ichigo, I've been trying to cajole you into this for weeks now!" Rukia whined. "I'm allowed to see how it turns out!"

"Oh are you, Kuchiki?" Hitsugaya asked mildly, but ice was spreading from their fingertips and up the wall in silent threat. Rukia went pale, as did Hinamori, and Matsumoto bounced forward.

"Ichigo-kun, save me from my captain!" she whimpered, but Ichigo's Hollow-half was beginning to flicker over his face and body, and one of his eyes turned bright gold.

"And risk the frostbite? No thanks." Ichigo said, voice echoing, and with a glare the two captain-class fighters descended in full wrath on the lieutenants and Rukia.

Karin and Chad watched from outside the confusion in silent amusement, having managed to slip away before Hitsugaya or Ichigo had arrived, and they sat on the couch, smirking.

There was nothing like watching shinigami beat the hell out of each other for entertainment.