Chapter 22

 

Toshiro came down the ladder with Rukia, though he seemed a bit more apprehensive than I would have liked. As he approached, I found myself staring at him. His white hair that I’d always loved was thick and messy atop his head. The teal eyes I’d forever cherish had always shone with a child-like innocence. They now displayed the inner strength I’d always known Toshiro had. White, traditional Japanese pants rustled with each step he took and his matching shirt was a close fit, nothing like the shihakusho of the Soul Reapers. Tears brimmed my eyes as I took it all in. I quickly swiped them away before giving my brother a bittersweet smile.

 

“Toshiro,” I said. “I, uh… I’ve come to a realization after some thought. I believe you’re mature enough to make your own decision on this matter. If that means I have to lose – I mean –” I sighed. “I want you to do what you believe is right.” I stared down at Hyorinmaru in my hands before kneeling down and hugging Toshiro. When I pulled away, I handed the zanpakuto to him. Toshiro looked at Hyorinmaru and hugged me again.

 

“Thank you, Nee-chan. I love you,” he whispered.

 

“I love you too, Otouto-chan.” I kissed his forehead and brushed his hair out of his face.

 

“Are you ready?” Kisuke asked and I stared up at him.

 

“So soon?”

 

“The sooner the better.” I looked to Toshiro and he nodded.

 

“I don’t want to do it alone, though,” he answered. I could see from his white knuckles on the sword that he was afraid. I felt terrible. I wanted to help him, but there was nothing I could do. I could barely stand the idea of watching it happen.

 

“What do you want help with, Toshiro?” Tsume asked.

 

“I don’t wanna stab myself!” I wrapped one arm around Toshiro and rubbed his shoulder. “Someone else do it.” I stopped and stared at him.

 

“What?” I demanded.

 

“It’s perfectly understandable. After all, this goes against basic survival instincts. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had to hold him down as well,” Kisuke answered. Toshiro looked up at me and I was reminded just how young he was.

 

“Mina-chan, I want your help. I want you to hold me still.”

 

“Toshiro, I don’t know if I can. If I panic, I might stop whoever’s holding the sword.”

 

“I trust you, Mina-chan. Tsume, will you use Hyorinmaru?”

 

“How do you know its name?”

 

“I just… remembered it. Will you, Tsume?” I looked to the young man for his answer. Tsume closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

 

“I… I can’t do it. I can’t kill you, Toshiro. I’d sooner ram that sword into my chest than into yours,” he answered. I could sympathize with him. That was the same reason I couldn’t do that.

 

“Toshiro, I’ll do it,” Ichigo volunteered. In his voice, I could hear his dread, though he felt it was something that needed to be done.

 

“Thank you, Ichigo,” my brother answered with a nervous smile. He handed his zanpakuto to Ichigo and stepped back so that he was standing beside me.

 

“You’ll be fine, Captain,” Rangiku encouraged with a small smile. I wrapped my arms around Toshiro, under his heart. I held him tightly as both a means of restraining him, and to cherish my final moments with him as my brother.

 

“Ready?” Ichigo asked, unsheathing Hyorinmaru.

 

Toshiro squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. I watched as Ichigo quickly approached. Toshiro began trembling in my arms and I closed my eyes as well, holding him tighter. I heard the sickening sound of a blade meeting flesh and Toshiro cried out. A bright light shone through my eyelids and I could feel my brother changing. He seemed to have more toned muscles and grew a little in size. As the light dimmed, I opened my eyes and looked at my brother. No longer was he the thin, wiry ten-year-old boy I’d helped raise. He only looked a couple years older, but as battle hardened as a soldier. Toshiro no longer wore the white clothes he’d returned in, but the same black clothes Ichigo, Rukia, Renji and Rangiku wore. I released my brother and leaned back, sitting on my calves.

 

“T-Toshiro?” I whispered and he glanced down at me.

 

“Good to have you back, Toshiro,” Ichigo said with a grin, handing him the now sheathed Hyorinmaru. Toshiro took the sword in his hands and stared up at Ichigo.

 

“It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you, Kurosaki,” he answered sharply. His voice was much deeper and held an authority I’d never before heard.

 

“Captain,” Rangiku said, stepping forwards. She was no longer wearing her white vest – haori – but she still held the folded cloth from before in her hands. She gave it to Toshiro and he unfolded it, revealing it to be a much smaller haori with the number ten on the back He shrugged it on before putting Hyorinmaru on his back with a teal strap. “You’re back!” Rangiku stacked Toshiro to the ground with a hug, which he seemed less than pleased about.

 

“Matsumoto, get off of me!” Toshiro ordered.

 

Rangiku stood, a cat-like smile on her lips. Toshiro dusted himself off, casting an annoyed glance at his lieutenant, and looked around at the rest of us. Orihime seemed to be as overjoyed as Rangiku while Kisuke, Ichigo, Uryuu, Rukia and Renji all appeared content. Nel didn’t seem affected by the transformation, leaving me to believe she was neutral on the matter. Tsume’s face expressed shock and fury. I hadn’t seen him like this since his early days in my office, when the slightest thing would enrage him.

 

“B******s,” he muttered.

 

“Tsume,” I started.

 

“Couldn’t just let him be a kid, could you? You all had to force him to become what you wanted!”

 

“They didn’t force me to do anything, Tsume,” Toshiro answered sharply. He’d never spoken to Tsume like that before. Was anything left of my brother, or had a complete stranger emerged?

 

“No, but they all wanted it!”

 

“And you think I wanted any different? I’m a Soul Reaper.”

 

“But you were taken out in battle! Minako told me about it. When you were reborn, that was your chance to start over.”

 

“And who said I wanted to start anew?”

Tsume scowled and licked his split lip. He was more than just angry. He was hurt. Tsume had always seen Toshiro as a brother of his own. We were his surrogate family in that respect. Toshiro and I had rarely seen him in the past year because he’d been out living his own life, but he often wrote to us when he’d found time. For Tsume to be losing the Toshiro he’d always know, I feared it would be too much.

 

“You don’t even care anymore, do you?” he demanded. Toshiro seemed to be caught off-guard for a moment, but quickly recovered.

 

“Don’t be stupid,” he answered. I flinched at his words. “I’m not allowed to care. I can’t favor any one person over another.”

 

“So I mean nothing to you? What about Minako, your sister? Or Rukia, Renji and Ichigo? Just a couple hours ago, you yelled at your sister, breaking her down, because you wanted to do this to protect them! Was that you, or was that the Toshiro I knew?!”

 

“He’s the same person,” Orihime said in an attempt to diffuse the situation. It only made Tsume scowl even more.

 

“No he’s not. The Toshiro I knew wasn’t a heartless b*****d,” he answered harshly, turning to walk away. “Call me if you need me, Minako.”