the date
appointments are built for disappointment

Hinamori Momo did not take kindly to disappointment. She was a people pleaser. There was no way she could let someone suffer because of her. And vice versa, she could not stand her expectations crumbling at her feet. That was all there was to it when she left the office.

And when she left for the big city.

Aizen Sousuke was the proverbial man of the hour back then. She adored and worshipped that man more than anything else. She could almost pretend it was love. Almost was enough for her to devote herself to the man's whims.

Now she had Hitsugaya Toshiro, her childhood playmate. The boy, man, who surpassed her with such ease it made her feel inadequate. With the rumours circulating around the office, about an affair, about romance; she started to believe them. It scared her incomprehensively. It was like falling into the same loop, the same ditch as she had with the madman. She could not afford to fall for her boss.

At whatever cost.

But fate was as cruel as it was firm. For on the Wednesday a week into her vacation, she received a dinner invitation.

From her boss.

Abarai Renji was a busy man. He worked ten hours a day for a prick who may or may not have a stick up their backside. That being said, he was extremely irate when it came to phone calls.

"OKAY, WHOEVER YOU ARE, YOU'RE NOT IMPORTANT. HANG UP BEFORE I HANG YOU. YOU GODDAMN TELEMARKETERS, YOU SHOULD ALL JUST GO FUC–"

"Renji, it's me."

The feisty redhead quieted down. She didn't call unless it was – no he didn't want to think about it.

"Hinamori, Momo, please..."

"It's not like that; I just need your advice on something."

He sighed. The last couple times she called, she was on the verge of suicide. Her breath was always short and staggered. She would yell and cry; about Aizen – that bastard, and about death. Then she would go quiet – so deadly silent that he would yell into the phone, hoping to wake her from death. He knew that she was losing her sanity every time she cried that bastard's name.

And it hurt him too.

"Sure," he said with a falsely cheery tone, "I'm the guy to go to for advice. I should have my own column in the paper."

She returned his tone with a half-hearted chuckle; "It's about Shiro-chan."

He straightened immediately. She hadn't called since she started working. When he saw her at lunch, she was always happily chatting with the white-haired youth. If Matsumoto Rangiku's gossiping held true, the newly appointed secretary and the head of finance were a thing. He couldn't help but feel that something was completely wrong.

"Is it safe to gossip about your boss behind his back? If it is, I have quite a few things to say about Mister I'm-too-good-to-eat-pizza."(1)

"It's not that. I – I received a dinner invite from Shiro-chan, Friday night."

He paused, "so are you going?"

He could hear her biting her trembling lips, "I – I really don't know. I'm so scared, Renji, I'm so scared of the future."

He knew he had to be careful, but he also knew he had to be straightforward. She was prone to go into an abject state.

"We both know Hitsugaya. He would never turn on his friends, let alone you Momo. Do you remember when you and Gin got into a fight?"

Her breathing slowed, "and Shiro-chan – he – he stood in front of Gin-san..."

"That's right. And do you remember what he said to Gin?"

"He said... If you make Hinamori shed any blood, I will kill you. But that was so long ago –"

"He hasn't changed."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

And Hinamori Momo hung up.

Hitsugaya Toshiro had a headache. He had the mother of all headaches. If he was feeling capricious, he might have called it a migraine. It was bad enough that he wouldn't mind getting drunk with his advisor and her little friends.

Never mind, that was taking it too far – no one in their right mind would willingly go for a drink with Matsumoto Rangiku.

And his headache just got worse when his above-mentioned advisor waltzed in his office door.

"I've got a message for you sir."

"Go away Matsumoto – I'm not in the mood for your games today."

"You're never in the mood," she countered, "anyways; it's a message from Hinamori."

"Oh really, so what did little miss I'm-going-on-vacation-now say?"

"You should be nicer to the mother of your unborn child," the woman tittered, "we wouldn't want the darling to grow up in a violent, troubled –"

"Shut up Matsumoto," he snapped, "I distinctively remember telling you to leave your gossip at the door. And those idiotic people – I should deck their pay in have. If they spent half as much time working as they spend spreading these ridiculous –"

"Geez captain, you're so mean. I really wonder why Momo-chan wants to go on a date with you."

"Don't cut me off when I'm ranting. Who cares what Bed-wetter Momo thinks? Wait...what date?"

"If you didn't bite my head off the moment I walked in the door, you would've gotten the message. Hinamori has invited you for dinner. Now we see who wears the pants in this relationship."

He let the last comment slide. Things were finally looking up. He could feel the headache dissipate.

"When's the dinner?"

"In three hours."

And the headache was back.

"Matsumoto, when did you get this message?"

"Two days ago. It slipped my mind."

He resisted the urge to strangle his advisor. After all, murders couldn't be covered up.

"Take care of things while I'm gone," he ordered, grabbing this jacket and gathering the papers.

"Where are you going?"

"Dinner."

As the door closed, Matsumoto chuckled to herself. She was having way too much fun to be a financial advisor.

(1) Can you imagine Byakuya stuffing his face with pizza? I think not.

Author's note: I made the deadline. Hurrah.

This was an extremely busy month for me. I fear that updates will be much less frequent in the future.

Review lots. Love muchly.