A/N: Well, this is my first fanfic, so let's hope it's not too horrible.

Edit: I forgot the disclaimer, so here it is...

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach in any shape or form.

The idea for this fic came when I realized I was analyzing characters in my head without meaning to, the same way I would should I be writing an essay for English class. This lead to the horrifying epiphany that I have been brainwashed by school. I wonder if it's an IB thing... Anyhow, after flying around in my head for a while, it turned into this: a plotless little one-shot which may even be a little on the boring side. Ah well, I'll work on writing interesting things at a later date, after I get essay structures and language styles out of my head.

So, as I head off to deprogram myself, please enjoy! Reviews are appreciated, especially those with constructive criticism. Any mistakes you spot, let me know about. No flames, please!

Matsumoto was not someone people often pegged as observant. What with her happy personality, somewhat ditzy behavior and carefree attitude as well as her liking for large amounts of sake, she really didn't seem the type capable of deeper thought. While her comrades acknowledged her strength in battle, those who didn't know her well would write her off as a bit of an airhead.

This assumption could not be further from the mark.

Matsumoto, for all her childish habits and lazy tendencies, was in truth a very perceptive person, especially when it came to other people. She was quick to notice if something was bothering someone, and was equally good at finding out what that something was without directly asking. Usually she was even able to come up with ways of cheering whoever it was up as well, even if those ways generally included sake.

Yes, Matsumoto was much more observant than she let on. If she was sufficiently bored (though not enough so to actually pick up a pen and do her paperwork), she would even pick someone to observe or think about for a while and see what she could find. Today, that someone happened to be her captain, who, after three consecutive all-nighters with only a few hours' sleep, had finally collapsed in exhaustion at his desk.

She had found him in his office fast asleep, head on a stack of papers with a pen gripped loosely in his hand, just two hours prior. She herself had been out drinking with Kira and Shuuhei, and while she was not drunk, she would admit to being a little tipsy. Perhaps that was why she had felt the need to gently ruffle his hair in a motherly way as she place a blanket over his shoulders and replaced the paper stack with a cushion from the couch. It was something that would have gotten her a scolding had the small captain woken up, but she didn't really care. If anything, she was happy she had, as his ever-present frown had faded and he had visibly relaxed at the touch. Honestly, he was uptight even in his sleep!

It was probably that thought that had lead to what she was doing now. Having made sure her captain was as comfortable as he was going to get, she had plopped down on the couch and started thinking. Just why is he so uptight, anyway? She had sighed, not really confused about that point. She knew why, or at least some of the reasons why, and as much as she hated it, there was only so much she could do. It wasn't that she didn't try, though. She often went out of her way to try and make her over-stressed superior relax, but he simply wouldn't. Stubborn boy.

It wasn't like he needed to be completely serious 24/7, after all. She had tried to show him, subtly of course, that she wouldn't think any less of him should he just let loose for once and just act his age, that she wouldn't doubt his strength or ability to lead even if he did act childish. She knew for a fact Ukitake thought the same way, and was trying to hint at it too (with the rather original way of dumping candy on the boy whenever their paths crossed). Whether Hitsugaya really didn't get it or just ignored the gestures from both parties, she wasn't sure. Though, he was a genius, one would think he'd pick up on something like that...

Anyway, the problem was elsewhere. While Matsumoto, and some others she could name, would not care if he wasn't so serious all the time, there were plenty of people who would pounce on him the moment he acted anything less than professional, and he knew that. Matsumoto knew for a fact that was something he'd had to deal with ever since he'd joined the Academy. As the youngest student ever admitted (Yachiru had never actually attended the Academy), there had been both doubt and expectations of him. No one had believed in his abilities, and yet should he actually do poorly in some area the response was always to jibe at his title of genius, saying that he really was just a kid after all. It had been impossible to please anyone, and that had probably been the start of the whole I'm-not-a-kid insistence. And it hadn't just been the Academy. As the one who had found him, Matsumoto had taken it upon herself to check up on him every once or in a while, even after he graduated (in one year, she might add), and on many occasions she had seen the same pattern repeating. Anything less than stellar, and he'd immediately be belittled. Should he meet the given expectations, he'd be met with grudging acknowledgement and distaste. She'd heard many grumblings of "Brat thinks he's so much better than us" or "He's a genius, he has it easy, unlike us who have to work for it." It was at times like those she had considered risking getting demoted for attacking fellow officers. Were they seriously that blind? He worked twice as hard as anyone she knew, just to gain acknowledgement as a comrade, not some lost puppy following them around. He hadn't even wanted to become a shinigami, and yet there he was, putting in more effort than anyone, just to be able to protect what he held dear.

Protection. That was something she admired about her captain: just about everything he did, he did for the sake of protecting someone. He became a shinigami to protect his grandmother from himself, he climbed the ranks to protect his sister, and even now kept his burdens to himself in what Matsumoto was sure was an attempt to protect herself, his own lieutenant.

Matsumoto sighed. Sure, it was great his motives were good, but sometimes he really should let others help. It wasn't healthy to take everything on by yourself.

She sighed again, removing Haineko's sheath from her waist and placing it on the table as she lay down. Looking at her zanpaktou sent her off on another tangent of thought, namely the so-called 'Zanpaktou Rebellion', as it had been dubbed. Now there was something she was in no hurry to do again. Honestly, where had Haineko come up with such things? "Women have expiration dates", my foot! Despite the fact that she and Haineko had resolved their differences after Muramasa had been dealt with, Matsumoto couldn't help but feel annoyance at her zanpaktou's words. After all, a zanpaktou was born from its master's soul, and as such would be a reflection of its master in at least some respects, even if it was hard to spot, and Matsumoto really didn't want to think of herself as that shallow. Sure, she held appearances in high regard, but she wasn't that bad, was she?

With a slight frown, Matsumoto rolled over onto her side. The whole zanpaktou debacle was replaying itself in her head now, and she was too tired to drive her thoughts elsewhere. Muramasa had claimed he had freed the zanpaktou, allowing them to follow their instincts. Matsumoto doubted that was the entire truth, seeing as that would mean ever single zanpaktou would have issues with their master, and surely that wasn't the case. She, along with many others, suspected Muramasa had only played up their instincts with his ability, using anything negative he could find within the souls of the targeted zanpaktou. Even so, it was a bit of a bitter wake-up call to realize that one's own zanpaktou could be turned against oneself, with apparent ease.

Still thinking back to that time, she came to something that had puzzled her, but she hadn't had time to really think about, and that was Hyourinmaru. All the other zanpaktou had remained able to tell who their master was, and were all completely self-aware. Why was it then that Hyourinmaru had lost every memory of himself and his master? If it was a side-effect of being released, why had it not happened to any other zanpaktou? Given everything she had seen of the others, she was far more inclined to believe that Muramasa had erased the dragon's memories on purpose. What she had heard from Ichigo about the battle with Hyourinmaru only served to prove her theory. Hyourinmaru had actually been searching for his master, wanting to return, unlike all the other zanpaktou. Even with his memories gone, he was still loyal to Hitsugaya, even if he'd been unable to recognize the boy for what he was at first. The conclusion that Matsumoto drew from this was that Muramasa must have been unable to turn Hyourinmaru against Hitsugaya, and had had to resort to wiping the dragon's memory. That was more than could be said about any other zanpaktou. While the bond between master and sword was strong for many shinigami, it would seem that it was never quite as strong as theirs.

On the topic of Hyourinmaru, Matsumoto could draw many parallels between him and his master. Both were loyal, both were calm (most of the time, anyway... When Hitsugaya was annoyed, all bets were off the table) and both wanted to be useful. That last one was perhaps a bit harder to see than the others, but it was there. While roaming around in his human form, Hyourinmaru had been very helpful around the office, even getting tea for Matsumoto when she asked (something she found both sweet and funny at the same time). Hitsugaya on the other hand worked hard, even willing to take on the work of others (*cough*Matsumoto's*cough*) and generally doing more than expected of him. He never said it outright, but Matsumoto was sure it was because he wanted to be needed. That was something that took her to another thing the two had in common: wanting to belong. This was something she realized after Ichigo had told her what Hyourinmaru's wish had been during the time he was without his memories. She had already known that her captain would sometimes feel out of place, something that had been more evident before he attained the rank of captain. Again, it was something the boy had never voiced, but Matsumoto knew.

I wonder if he feels he belongs now? She hoped he did, because whether he liked it or not he was stuck with her. Despite the frequent differences in opinion when it came to paperwork, she felt they worked well as a team. They cared for each other, though he showed his affection in a more subtle manner. Really, if they were any closer, they would be family. A small grin spread out on Matsumoto's face at the thought. My little brother, Hitsugaya Toushirou, captain of the Tenth Division. Now that was an interesting picture, one she was almost inclined to modify a bit to be "my son". Hitsugaya seemed to be a little bit of both (though the latter may have been the sake's input). With that odd image in mind, she allowed her eyes to close.

Matsumoto wasn't sure how long it had been when she woke up again, but judging by the fact that her captain was awake and working again without looking like he would drop dead, she figured it had been a good many hours. Sitting up, she realized a blanket had been draped over her sometime during her nap. Returning the favor, hmm? Hearing her move, Hitsugaya looked up.

"You're awake, good. I could use a little help here..." The last sentence was delivered with a bit of a glare, but there didn't seem to be any real anger behind it.

"Eh, but taichou, you seem to be doing fine..." Despite her whining, she felt that maybe she could help. Just this once, mind you. Paperwork was incredibly boring, after all.

Hitsugaya gave her a look of surprise when she made her way over to the seldom- used desk and actually started reading the first paper. He hadn't really expected her to listen. Still, it was a welcome surprise. Now, if she would only make this a habit...

"Matsumoto?"

"Yes, taichou?"

"Thank you." Correctly sensing there was more behind this statement, Matsumoto smiled and picked up the next sheet of paper.

"Of course, taichou."