Chapter Text
Toshiro traveled as quickly as he could with the damn seal restraining eighty percent of his strength. He could feel Rangiku stepping just behind him - and the fading life of Kuchiki Rukia just ahead.
“Matsumoto!” he commanded, and he felt her dashing to Kuchiki’s side. He was rubbish at kaido, unlike his lieutenant. Instead he stepped to Kurosaki’s side, just in time to see a blue-haired arrancar being transported away via garganta, led by the traitor Tosen.
“Kurosaki,” he addressed, turning to the ginger with a serious expression. Teal eyes widened as he saw his left eye change, the sclera bleeding black and Ichigo’s deep mahogany iris lightening to a bright gold.
“Next I hear yer name will be your death, ya overgrown house cat!”
That voice was not Kurosaki Ichigo’s voice. Well, not entirely. His voice was there, but buried beneath the shrill of a hollow’s scream.
“Kurosaki,” he addressed again, teal eyes narrowing, his tone demanding the ginger’s attention.
And then he got it.
That bright golden eye felt like it was staring straight into his soul. He felt something within him harshly tugged towards the other, a nearly inaudible keen escaping his lips.
“Well, hello there, sweetness,” the other purred, and Toshiro had no idea how the scream sounded so pleasant to him.
They stared at one another for a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, before Kurosaki’s hand raised to clutch at the affected eye, groaning and growling. The sound sent a shiver down Toshiro’s spine and he folded his arms into the sleeves of his kosode defensively. He had no idea what was going on, but he decided he didn’t like it.
“Kurosaki,” he addressed for the third time, his tone attempting at a command but it felt false to his own ears. He was entirely rattled and he had a feeling that whatever it was that had looked into his soul knew it.
“Sorry, Toshiro,” Kurosaki muttered out, his voice back to being entirely human.
Toshiro relaxed, just a bit, the response automatic, “Hitsugaya-taicho. What happened, report.”
“Lost…” Kurosaki sounded lost, terrified.
Toshiro’s expression softened slightly and sighed. He looked down to see Inoue Orihime had joined his lieutenant and was healing Kuchiki. “You can report in the morning. Come, I’ll make sure you and Kuchiki get back to your home safely. Also, I will be staying tonight as well as a precaution.”
Kurosaki’s head snapped up, “You really don’t need to. Not like I need a babysitter, Toshiro. I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” Toshiro left the statement at that, descending to the girls and nodding to Abarai Renji as he approached, Inoue turning her attention to healing the red-head’s wounds.
Toshiro quickly relayed his decision to his lieutenant and Kuchiki. He was thankful neither argued with him, though Rangiku did pout and whine about his ‘sleeping so far away from her and she’d miss him.’ He just rolled his eyes. The woman was impossible.
When they arrived, they entered the house through Ichigo’s bedroom window. Kuchiki waved a bit awkwardly before going to the room she’d been given. Toshiro sat with his legs crossed, his back to the wall, facing Kurosaki’s bed.
“Is this really necessary?” Kurosaki asked weakly.
“Yes,” Toshiro insisted. “Something is very clearly amiss within you, and while I understand that you are not in the correct frame of mind to discuss it tonight, it does need to be discussed. In the meantime, I’ll watch over you.”
Kurosaki sighed, crossing to his wardrobe and pulling out clothing to sleep in, having re-entered his body. Toshiro averted his eyes as the teen dressed, only looking back when Kurosaki asked, “Are you really going to be comfortable like that? I can get a futon… Hell, you can take the bed.”
“I am fine,” Toshiro responded. “Spirits do not require the same amount of sleep that those with a body do. And I am quite capable of remaining both awake and alert for several consecutive days.”
“Surely that’s not good for you…”
Toshiro didn’t deign to answer that time, merely watching him with a cold, aloof expression.
“Whatever…” Ichigo sighed, the sound both frustrated and resigned. And yet… Toshiro could sense within the teen’s unchecked reiatsu that he was a bit more settled, knowing that he’d be watched over.
The teen settled into bed beneath the covers and Toshiro settled in to watch and wait. He wasn’t expecting any further interaction that night, but his keen hearing picked up the softly whispered words, “Night, Toshiro.”
“Hitsugaya-taicho,” he grumbled with a frown. Then, his tone gentled without his consent, as if in an apology he didn’t mean to give. “Night.”