author's note: This is a birthday present for a special someone. I hope they enjoy this. For a very long time, I wanted to write a oneshot on Hitsugaya and Matsumoto meeting when reincarnated, and was greatly inspired by Lost. However, I tried to keep this oneshot as original as possible. Enjoy!

Title: Dice
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Couple: HitsuMatsu

Fate is a string, which has yet to be tied. Like a trickle of blood, trailing down mountains and hills; a stream. On each end, someone clings, obliviously. As if the string were wrapped around their wrists. The string extends, it is never short. The two people on either side may proceed further and further away from each other, but the string shall never snap. For years, the string may hang loosely, stretch for miles and miles, yet it waits until the two finally meet. Until fate finally succeeds. Life, is a plan. A map. There are thousands of destinations, and thousands of ideas. Sometimes, this plan might not go ahead, sometimes a meeting might be delayed, or there is an error. Sometimes, a plan can remain unfinished. Sometimes, the string forms knots, twists, strains. Many challenges and puzzles. Many barriers.

Yet it is said, if two people are meant to be, even if one were to erase time, change past events, or control time itself, nothing will stop them from meeting. The God of Time might cause delays, the God might offer distractions. The God might try and cut the string. The string, even to this God, though, is invisible, for it isn't string at all. Death might break the two from another, let their hands slip from each other's grip, but even death is just a mere delay.

For those who are meant to be, shall be.

The first time, he met her in passing. There was a furious limp in his walk, and he ignored her curious expression. Many turned and stared. Could it be that Major General Hitsugaya was actually wounded? It was a sight for the few. Yes, Hitsugaya was wounded, but not from battle, which only made it more humiliating. A silly recruit, who he wasted no time to get rid of, thought it might be funny to pull a prank. The car the recruit got his hands on was not insured, but he still decided to run Hitsugaya down. Thankfully, Hitsugaya wasn't that wounded. Something was wrong with his leg, and his temple was bleeding but he would survive. The General refused any help.

Even when he truly required it. The second time, he caught her watching in amusement while he slammed his fist onto the coffee-machine. Damn thing wasn't working. Still wounded from the car incident, he had to press most of his weight onto one leg, which was a pain. Cursing to himself, Hitsugaya balanced himself on the table, then slowly looked at her. 'What?'

'Maybe you should switch it on at the switch.'

The glare only hardened. Furious, he whipped his head around to the switch on the wall and realised, to his annoyance, that she was right. Slowly, he closed his eyes in embarrassment. Oh. Kindly, she walked past him and switched on the machine. There was scent she possessed which made him halt for a moment. It was lovely, one he thought he recognised. Did someone he know wear the same perfume too? It was... summery, bright, warm. At once a flood of comfort washed through him, and he reluctant said thank you.

Pouring himself a coffee, he reached over for some sugar.

'You like coffee?'

He looked at her when she spoke. 'It's all right. Personally, I prefer tea. The fruit kind.'

'Oh, well that's just as well. Some funny, shy recruit gave me a box of fruit tea bags. No idea why. I mean, my commanding officer isn't fond of that stuff anyway.'

'Who are you?'

It was odd that anyone would talk to him, let alone a woman. He let his eyes wander over her, the curve of her hip beneath the uniform, well endowed chest, but a very bright, playful face. Expressive, he noted. Auburn hair, like the leaves in autumn, a fiery, wild colour that suited her well. Blue eyes, soft, like the sky, yet they were touched by clouds, of confusion and a hazy delusion. Hitsugaya found himself liking her appearance, which was weird. He didn't seem to notice anyone.

'Rangiku Matsumoto, Sir. Or, Lieutenant Matsumoto. Whichever.'

'Lieutenant.' He grabbed his mug. 'Under Colonel Isshin, yes?'

'Ahh, so you have heard of me.' Playfully, she prodded his chest. 'I knew I was popular here, but I wasn't expecting General Hitsugaya to know me too.'

Tōshirō didn't appreciate it when she poked his chest, but decided to let that pass. He rolled his eyes, knowing he had formed quite a reputation here. The "ice general" or whatever it was. Many found him quite... frightening. He was ridiculously skilled with artillery and karate, any sort of defence. Yet whenever he made a kill, whenever he trained or approached anyone, he was so stoic and cold. It had been like that for as long as he could remember. Maybe it was good that he was feared more than he was loved. That was what he wanted to believe anyway.

No one was very keen on him, except for maybe Lieutenant Nanao Ise. A soldier under his command, who he got on with quite well. He had heard about Lieutenant Matsumoto from her, considering they were both good friends, but he never met the woman herself. Well, Ise was right about one thing: Rangiku was certainly confident, and, if he didn't know better, a little flirtatious. Yet he wasn't one to judge. Still, there was something quite comforting about her presence. It was probably due the fact Rangiku was so bright, but it might be something else.

Looking at her, he started to wonder if he had seen her before. Frowning, he studied her eyes, and suddenly he was certain. Suddenly, it occurred to him that they had met, possibly spoken before. So, he asked, 'Have we met?'

Rangiku loosened her expression slightly, then shook her head. 'In passing, maybe. Why?'

Oh. Clearly she didn't feel the same as he did. 'No reason. Good day, Lieutenant.' With that, Hitsugaya limped out of the room, aware of Rangiku's eyes on him. While he deserted her, he felt a little odd, as if he should go back and insist they had met before. That, for sure, they had spoken. Rolling his eyes, he maintained his cool. The last thing he wanted to do was make a woman feel uncomfortable by his persistence.

To his surprise, he started to meet her more after that. One time was when he was on his break. The military headquarters was empty that morning, aside from the odd officer. Folder under her arm, she quickly hurried over to Hitsugaya. 'I've been looking all over for you! Colonel Isshin wanted me to give you these.'

Although she had only walked with him for less than a second, he felt the same weird emotion like last time. A flush of heat, coursing through his body. Embracing him, almost. Their eyes met, and he felt a jump. Not shock. It wasn't like that time he was shot. He remembered that time clearly, when he was sent away for defence, and returned two years later, a bullet through his lung. That was a story which went through headquarters like wildfire. It always raised eyebrows whenever Hitsugaya was wounded. Someone so stoic and distant, so difficult to converse with, could actually be wounded.

Not fond of people in the first place, Hitsugaya could only sneer at their remarks.

The jump he endured the moment he saw Rangiku was not like being shot. It was pleasant, a swift, rushing swirl of emotions. He quite liked it. Which was weird. Hitsugaya didn't like being around anyone. What was it about this bubbly woman he found endearing? It could be her nature. The way she spoke to him. For some reason, she always seemed happy whenever he was with her. Did his presence mean that much, or did she always act this way?

'Right.' Sighing, he took the folder from her. Hitsugaya briefly skimmed through some of the sheets within, then realised Rangiku was still with him. 'Can I help?'

Then she sniggered. 'You can, General. I hear you're struggling with translating something in German.'

What? 'How did you know?'

'I have friends who talk.'

'... and a large nose as well.'

'Wh––' Rangiku halted. 'Large nose?'

Hitsugaya turned to her. 'You're nosy, Matsumoto.'

'I was going to say! My nose isn't large,' she insisted, clearly very insulted while she pinched her nose. 'Hey, I'm not nosy either.' She pushed him, playfully.

–– 'Baka Taichou!'

Growling, Tōshirō was very tempted to push her back. 'Not a baka. You should have handed in your work when it was deadlined for. You're utterly useless, Matsumoto.' ––

'General..?'

Hitsugaya snapped back to his senses. What was that? His heart thudded against his chest, and he needed a moment to catch his breath. When his vision came back to him, he saw Rangiku looking at him, no longer insulted, but concerned. A sigh left his lips, and he ran a hand through his hair. 'Come to my office around 1500 hours. If you know German, then I could use your help.'

Wait, why was he asking for help? And from this lady of all people? Blimey, the things she made him feel. Just who on earth was she? When she smiled, it was as if a flower had bloomed. 'Ah, see? I knew you'd come around. All it took was a little charm, and you were begging for my aid.'

'Matsumoto,' he mumbled. 'Hush. I won't wait around. If you're not there, then forget it.'

'All right, I'll be there! You have a temper, General.'

'For the better.'

'If you're not careful, you'll have heart problems.'

'You're not my Mother,' he said, and continued to walk away. 'And if you don't leave me be, I will be having heart problems.'

Rangiku smiled crookedly as he went, and felt very excited about his proposal. She might not know Hitsugaya all that well, but she was aware he was an avoided man. Usually, someone with looks like he was very popular with the opposite sex. However, it was his personality and just his presence in general which warded people off. Maybe that was just as well. It would be interesting to know what secrets this mysterious soldier held.

Light in her step, Matsumoto headed back to the office, where her Colonel waited.

To his relief, she arrived on time. Hitsugaya didn't know why he felt relieved. If she wasn't going to come, then he shouldn't mind. Yet, for the majority of the day, he wasted minutes wondering if she would appear. Why did that matter to him? She was like every other officer. Or, was it that strange vision he had? All he heard was voices. Or, all he could remember was voices. And.. he was certain it was Rangiku's voice he heard. Baka Taichou. Pressing a hand to his temple, he propped himself on one elbow, and quickly finished the last of his paperwork. Ise was absent, away on research he ordered her to do, so the office was to himself.

'General!'

Hitsugaya jumped in his seat when Rangiku barged through the doors. Cursing to himself, he straightened, and glared at her. 'Knock.'

Rangiku ignored him. 'You know, I was thinking that maybe you should learn a little German yourself. What good is a General who doesn't know another language?'

'Excuse you,' Hitsugaya sneered, while she placed a heavy book onto his desk. 'I know plenty of languages: French, Polish––'

'Well, now you can add German to the list.' And she slid the book his way. 'Here you go. Everything you need should be in there. So when you have another boring night, you can look through this and think of me.'

'Don't flatter yourself.' But, he had to admit, what she provided him seemed pretty good. 'Let me grab what I need translating.'

Matsumoto waited whilst Hitsugaya opened one of his drawers, then passed her a document. Taking it from him, she let her eyes glide over the words, then nodded. 'I can do this.'

'Do it here. Sit in Ise's seat.'

While she proceeded for the desk, he felt another wave go through him. For some odd reason, he found it peculiar that Rangiku was working. Had Ise told him in the past that she could be a slacker? That, when it came to paperwork, she detested it? Well, maybe this wasn't paperwork. It was important. Hitsugaya gave her all the time she required while he sorted out his own material. Every now and again, he glanced at her to check if she was working. Never once did she lift her head.

Stopping while he placed a book away, he found it appealing how she frowned lightly, brushing her gorgeous locks to one shoulder, out of the way. No wonder Colonel Isshin kept her around. That man was very fond of his women, and Rangiku was, without a doubt, one of the best. However, Hitsugaya wasn't that bothered about her appearance. It was her presence, her spirit, which affected him the most. In fifteen minutes, she had translated the entire thing.

'Very good,' he said shortly, reading through it. 'I'll send my thanks to your commanding officer for allowing me to have you for a bit.'

'... Oh, I forgot to tell him.'

'Mm?' Tōshirō wasn't sure if he should feel angry or amused at her lack of concern.

'Ah well.' She shrugged. 'At least I was working this time.'

'What?'

Rangiku grinned. 'I'm teasing, General.'

Honestly, he had a few things he wanted to say back to her, but Hitsugaya maintained himself. Grabbing a pen he passed it to her. 'Sign your translation, otherwise there will be a fuss.'

'Of course.'

Reaching over, Rangiku took the pen, but her fingertips brushed over his. Tōshirō jolted back, feeling an electric shot shoot up his hand to all over his body. Apparently, Rangiku had the same affect, for she flinched. There was a brief moment of silence between them, then Rangiku, wisely, decided to ignore the strange issue and sign the sheet.

'Why did you join the military?' The question was out before he could stop himself.

'A close friend of mine did,' she said, without hesitation. 'I, uh... had nowhere else to go.'

'Oh.' He retrieved the pen from her. 'Who is this close friend?'

'Gin. You'll know him as––'

'Lieutenant General Ichimaru. Yes, I know who he is.' Truthfully, Hitsugaya thought the man was very skilled himself. In many ways, he was a huge annoyance, but, aside from that, Hitsugaya didn't mind him so much. 'I didn't know you were both friends.'

'Mm.' Her gaze dropped. 'Yes...'

'Not as close?'

'Oh! Oh, it's nothing like that, General.' She laughed, and it was a wonderful laugh that seemed to brighten the room. 'We're both finding our differences, that's all.'

'I understand. I also have a friend who I knew very well. She, too, joined the military but dropped out after a horrible incident. I'm glad to say she's much better off where she is now. Yet, our differences seem to pull us away from one another. I suppose that's just how life works, Matsumoto. One day, you think you know someone so well, until they become someone you once knew.' Tōshirō didn't know where this was all coming from, but it was easy to tell her this, easy to talk to her. By her expression, he could tell she needed some reassurance as well. 'I'm sure General Ichimaru still thinks about you.'

Rangiku said nothing, but clearly appreciated his words. Hitsugaya kept his eyes on her for a moment, before clearing his throat.

'Thank you for your help. You're dismissed, Lieutenant.'

'Actually, can you do me a favour?'

Raising a brow, he said, 'Depends.'

'I need some help with target practise. I asked my commanding officer to help me, but he's pretty useless. Would you mind?'

Always, Hitsugaya had refused to offer help unless he was ordered to. 'No, I'll be happy to.' Until now. When she smiled, he almost returned it. 'I'm available after work, at 1815 hours. Will you be free then?'

'Mm-Hm. I'll meet you on the firing field, General.'

When Rangiku met his gaze again, she had to stop herself from staring. She had met people before with green eyes like him, but his were different. They seemed to glow, they were so deep and powerful. Just by looking at her, she felt dominated. His gaze wasn't angry, but it was furious, as if demanding control. She knew well enough that Hitsugaya's eyes were feared, yet she had to admit, his eyes, if anything, were one of his best features. They were the type of eyes she could look into for hours, unravel so many hidden thoughts. What made him how he was.

Of course no work was done until 1800 hours. Colonel Isshin had gone home, but Matsumoto remained behind. Being winter, it was already growing dark, but the firing field was lit up. Grabbing a sniper rifle, the one weaponry she struggled with the most, she waited for Hitsugaya to arrive. Not to her surprise, he arrived at 1815 hours, like he said.

'You look exhausted,' was the first thing she said. Walking over, she brushed a few strands of hair from his eyes, then stopped herself. That was weird. Out of the blue, as well. Hitsugaya stared at her, confused, and she rapidly diverted his attention to the weapon in her grasp. 'It's my aim.'

Together, they headed closer to the targets up ahead. Hitsugaya told Matsumoto to fire, and she obeyed, positioning herself. At once, he had a criticism, stating how her posture was incorrect. It was only when he stepped behind her, and told her to fire, did he realise her hands were sharking. Frowning, he stepped closer. 'Why are you trembling?'

Matsumoto lowered the rifle slightly. 'Am I...?'

'Mm.' Then his hand gently pressed beneath hers, to hold her steady. 'Don't be nervous.'

'I'm not.' And she fired. Hitsugaya held her, aware the impact was quite powerful against her small frame. Matsumoto was much stronger than he gave her credit for though.

'You are. Have you had any psychological trauma?'

'I––' Matsumoto hesitated, 'I don't think so.'

The hand at her arm slid down slightly, and he heard her inhale sharply. '... Matsumoto?'

Then she swivelled around on her heel to look at him. Now, he didn't see the fun in her eyes anymore. Now, she was confused, scared. 'Have we met before...? Before that time with the coffee...'

'Maybe in passing.' Before he knew it, he realised he had only mirrored her words from the other day. Tōshirō narrowed his brows. 'I feel like we've met before, too.'

For years and years, he had kept to himself, but Rangiku– he didn't understand. He felt fine in just telling her everything about him. 'Yeah. Maybe in passing.' Lowering her rifle, their hands touched, and both of them felt as if they had been shot. Rangiku stumbled, and Hitsugaya was still before her, but he was dressed differently, his military uniform now black robes. His hair, though, was white. Like snow. No longer blond. And the way he looked at her, as if this look was only for her. A small smile, one she knew was rare, stretched over his lips and a cold, freezing hand touched her face.

'You don't need to worry about me, Matsumoto. Just think about yourself.'

Why did she suddenly feel this horrible, horrible guilt rush through her all of a sudden? Matsumoto swallowed and stepped back, as if he had slapped her. However, Hitsugaya would never do such a thing. He stared at her, too, beginning to grow frustrated with these odd visions. 'Are you all right?'

And she bravely came forward, claiming his hand in her own. Her entire body seemed to freeze, and she shuddered, but needed him closer. What came next was a spiral of memories, dreams, oh she didn't know what they were, but she knew they were real.

They were all of him. Of Hitsugaya. Dressed in those odd, black robes. Of him being smaller than her, scolding and glaring at her, but she was so... happy, just so happy to be around him. Then it was changing, he was changing, he was growing, she could feel herself grow uncomfortable with how much, how fast he was growing. There he was again, taller than she, looking down at her, his hands at her face, his usually cold, piercing eyes, gentle.

A voice. Deep, like a lullaby to rest her frantic soul.

'I'll never leave you.' A promise. For her. She soon realised she was upset, that she had just revealed to him her fears and worries, that she... she couldn't lose him. For once, for once, her Taichou had approached her, held her, and told he wouldn't leave. That he would stay. And that was all she required, just that reassurance, that comfort. Him.

'If I died on the battlefield, would you come back for me?'

'No.' There was no hesitation, even she could tell he wasn't pained to admit that. Not yet, at least.

'You promise me you won't.'

'I promise.'

Then the scene was changing, transforming, and she was laughing, pulling him with her towards a gorgeous, pretty garden. She realised she had wanted to show him this garden for such a long time, and now she finally had the opportunity to. Then, they were lying down in the garden, alone, isolated. For once, they were isolated, and he lay, facing her, eyes on her, and his cold hand ran through her hair, her skin kissed by the sunlight, and he was smiling. A ghost of a smile, but a smile she would treasure forever.

It became so clear that he loved her. His expression, everything, showed that he loved her.

Her hands held his robes, and their foreheads rested together. She told him she loved him, but the rest didn't need to be said.

Matsumoto gasped when Hitsugaya squeezed her hand.

'I belong to you.'

Finally, they were greeted with silence. Hitsugaya could hear her heavy breaths, and he held his own, watching her, as if expecting her to explain everything that had just happened. But he knew she was equally as clueless, knew that she was struggling too. What was happening to them?

When she spoke, his heart skipped a beat. 'I've been waiting for you for so long.'

Her voice was pained, she was fighting against a cry. 'Matsumoto.' Then her hands claimed either side of his face, and he was flooded with memories again.

A bloody hand in his own, slowly slipping, and his voice, so gentle, a whisper, so delicate, unlike himself. The battle had ended, and he dropped into the mud to hold her. By the time he reached her, she was nearly gone, and he felt her life slipping. Felt her warm spiritual pressure leaving his body, and, for the first time in his life, he could feel his heart slowly breaking. His hands clung to her, but he knew he couldn't have saved her, he couldn't have stopped what he was doing to help her.

When she shielded him from the approaching attack, that was final. Matsumoto had done her duty, done what she promised, and Tōshirō had to continue. Even though her body was torn, that she was pouring with blood and barely conscious, he didn't stop. He didn't look back. He continued to fight as if nothing had happened. They won. The battle was won. He shone above the rest, a dragon of ice, unbeatable, and terribly frightening. His enemies screamed at his approach.

The dragon's wings curled around her, and he pulled Rangiku close, lips brushing against hers, while he asked her, pleaded that she meet him again, that this may not be the end.

That I can't live without you.

... she didn't answer.

Suddenly, the world was cold.
Suddenly, Tōshirō Hitsugaya was all alone.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, and he didn't know why he said it. Sorry because he had let her wait for so long? God, he was sorry for so many reasons. Heart pounding, he closed his eyes and kissed her. A relief washed through him, and he sighed, aware of her eager response. Her hand, gentle and warm, pressed to the back of his head, pushing him closer, and they kissed, and realised how much they had missed each other. He felt as if he were lit on fire, ablaze, but he just needed her near.

Two strong arms wrapped around her middle, and he refused to let her go. For a moment, they broke apart. Rangiku was shivering, trembling. 'Don't leave me.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' he whispered, a promise. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

There was no more sun without her, just rain and darkness. He dreamed of her hugging him, dreamed of her words and smiles. And the prince of ice, the master of stoicism, was no more. He was dead. He walked, talked, breathed, but he wasn't alive. She had taken her heart with him. Soon, he had become a toy. A warrior who was only capable of fighting. The man remained strong, remained fearsome, but the thrill had vanished completely. Whenever he turned around, she wasn't there.

And he would remember the way she spoke to him, how she fiddled with his robes slightly to neaten him up before heading for a meeting. He remembered how broken and upset she was when Gin Ichimaru died, remembered how she slowly, gradually, brightened up, and he remembered how he loved her, why he loved her, when it happened. So soon. And he remembered holding her, making love to her, sealing a promise between them that it was only she.

All along he knew that his heart was fragile, that she was fragile. Although she was completely different on the field, unstoppable, powerful– he knew she could die. Each night, he would let her hold him, each night, he would kiss her, each night, he would tell her the truth. Each night, he would treasure every touch she gave him, every word she exchanged.

Then she was gone.

Ash at his fingertips. No more. There was no life without her.

'Why did it take you so long to find me?' Tōshirō asked, hands running through her hair while he kissed her lips again.

Rangiku didn't answer, for she didn't know either. Why had fate taken them so long to meet? Oh, what did it matter now? Finally, they had found one another. Finally, they were together. And nothing could pry them apart. Not even death itself. 'I belong to you.' The way she said it, she knew. She knew what those four words meant to him, and to her.

It was their way of saying they loved each other. Their own way. It was natural, he knew exactly how to respond. 'I belong to you.'

She smiled, happy, so happy, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him close. Hitsugaya smiled too, and returned the embrace, absorbing her heat, her love, everything for him. It had been much, much too long since they held each other. Tōshirō scrunched his eyes closed, unable to stop more memories from returning, and he knew she was suffering the same agony, but they never let each other go. They needed each other to endure this, needed to know the other was there.

That... Hitsugaya needed to know that she was alive, that she was breathing, that she was his.

'I'm not going anywhere either.'

He pressed his lips to her cheek, loving her even more for saying that.

'Thank you.' And that was for everything. For being herself, for being his shield, for following her duty in the Heavens, as his guard and companion. As his friend. And as his lover. As the woman who understood him, who didn't question his actions, but still challenged him when appropriate. As the woman who held his hand, helped him through difficulties. As the woman who accepted his unusual ways, who loved his coldness, who loved him. There was no one else.

Yes, he knew that. Remembered.

Remembered all that she was, and all she would be.

The string was tied.

Only you.