Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.

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Food for Thought

Hitsugaya looked at Matsumoto, torn between disgust and admiration.

"I can't believe you like this stuff," he whispered, using his chopsticks to poke dubiously at the contents of his bowl.

Matsumoto smiled, watching Inoue as she stirred various culinary concoctions in her tiny kitchen.

"Honestly, Taicho, I don't."

Hitsugaya frowned in confusion.

"Then why-"

"Because she needs a friend," said Matsumoto softly, "someone who can understand her, someone who can share her life. "

She dropped her gaze to his face, her grey eyes filled with a melancholy that made his heart ache.

"Her pain is the same as ours, Taicho, and if by eating peanut butter on anchovies I can alleviate her suffering even a little, then I think its worth it."

Hitsugaya studied his lieutenant, feeling a little ashamed.

Using his chopsticks he picked up - something - from the bowl in front of him, looking at it with a sense of foreboding.

"It can't be that bad right?"

Matsumoto gave him a lazy grin pulling a small bottle from her ample cleavage.

"I find that a little bit of sake helps wash it down," she said, taking a generous sip before poring the remaining contents into her own bowl.

Hitsugaya buried his head in his hands, silently praying for the kind of miracle that would provide him with edible food and a sober lieutenant.