East Rukongai, Sakahone (District 76). About 100 years ago.
.
.
The village – if the collection of decrepit shacks nestled high up in the mountainside, like some long-abandoned bird's nest, could be called that – was empty.
Its inhabitants had left it in a hurry, not even bothering with the meager belongings they had. They must have been fairly certain that clothes and clay bowls and the like held no interest for the prowling monsters with holes in their chests, and, that once the hollow had found what they were searching for, they would leave. And the easier their prey was to find, the less damage the mindless beasts would cause, the villagers had reasoned to each other, as they had firmly tied the rope around the little girl's wrists – utterly deaf to her terrified pleading and crying – and had tethered her to a post right outside of the village's entrance.
That had been an hour ago; perhaps longer. The girl was not the most adept at reading the passage of time, and, at any rate, blind panic always made for a poor consultant.
Short hair, peach-colored and caked in dirt like the rest of her, whipped wildly around her face with every desperate attempt to free herself from her restraints.
She was an orphan.
Not that it really mattered, out here. Once people crossed over, blood relatives from the living world were impossible to find, and every single soul simply learned to make do with who – and what – they found.
Life was harsh all across Rukongai, but especially so in the arid, mountainous region known as "Reverse Bone," named after the large white rocks eternally reaching up for the empty blue sky. Everything was unchanging, unforgiving. The stark geography that broke up the landscape encouraged the formation of small, poor settlements – such as this one – rather than the larger, sprawling towns found elsewhere in this vast expanse of hopelessness stretching out towards infinity. The children there, she and the other kids had been told many times by the village elders in their attempts to get the scrawny brats to behave, had to fend for themselves by stealing, always on the run; how much luckier, then, the ones here were, to have the whole community looking after them.
And it was true: even as she was permanently stained with dirt and clad in scraps of cloth that barely covered her small, thin frame (and, certainly, did nothing to protect her from the chilly winds of Sakahone's high altitude), she had still played with the other children, as children will always do. And had sat around the evening fire to listen to the adults tell stories, until her eyelids had grown heavy and she had fallen asleep where had she sat under the starry sky.
Perhaps that was why the ropes came as a shock.
All she knew was that, one day, she needed more than water. She was the only one; no one else had felt the pain in their bellies.
The horrible monsters – like the ones the adults always said would come and eat them if they weren't good children – had started appearing near the village soon after that. They roamed the mountainside, up and down, seemingly searching for something. A few people whose huts were a little further out had not been seen for days now.
Even if she was only nine years old, it hadn't taken her long to realize that the adults had started whispering among themselves (although they were always sure to stop as soon as she walked by), their eyes white and wide and much like the eyes of the small, furry creatures she occasionally saw in the wilderness surrounding the village.
And now they had left her behind, and all she knew was that she could feel the thundering of massive footsteps climbing the hill towards her and could hear the tell-tale groaning of the monsters with the bone masks and that, no matter how she pulled and struggled, the ropes that bound her wrists merely dug deeper into her skin.
A large, green form finally appeared, its horrid face housing bright red eyes. It cracked open its mouth, the saliva dripping down in long, slow strings, as it started ambling towards her.
The ropes snapped.
Later, she would learn that the highly emotional state induced by her fear had caused her to briefly release a jolt of reiatsu, enough to burn away the ropes. Much later, she would learn how to do this at will.
At the time, the girl hadn't stopped to think about it. She had just run.
She tore through the village, darting in between the houses, and took off into the hostile terrain that bordered the settlement on all sides. The further out she got, the more difficult it became to climb. The rocks grew larger, sharper, and she left a trail of blood and skin as she went. It became harder to breathe, as the thin, cold air burned her lungs and her tongue. It wasn't long until she could barely swallow, and she felt herself choking on her own spit.
Body shaking and head ringing, underfed and unable to meet the demands of such continued stress, her legs finally gave out and she fell down.
The monster followed her.
She dragged herself away from the hungry creature as fast as she could, leaving bloody handprints all over the chalk-white rocks, but it easily caught up.
Looming over her, it opened its mouth and dove down with a horrible cry, and all she could do was scrunch up her eyes, wet with tears, and scream.
The impact never came.
In the impossible silence that followed, the girl heard a soft swish of air.
A moment later, she dared to crack open an eye from behind her fingers with which she was tightly clutching her face.
The first thing she saw was white – long white hair and a large white coat, billowing in the wind. There was black writing on the coat, and, later, she would learn that it was the number thirteen.
The man standing between her and the monster – now quickly disintegrating into the air – sheathed his sword, and turned to face her.
She instinctively scrambled back.
He slowly dropped to one knee and smiled kindly at her.
"That was pretty close, wasn't it? I almost didn't make it on time!" the man said cheerfully, closing his eyes as he tilted his head to the side. "You must have been really scared. Are you okay?"
The girl stared at him warily. It wasn't hard to tell that he wasn't from around here; his clothes were a dead giveaway. She'd had no idea that clothes like that even existed. Still reeling from the fact that the people she had lived with had left her out as food for a monster and not sure what to make of this stranger, she kept her mouth shut.
"Where are your parents?" he continued.
Slowly, she shook her head.
He frowned, thin black eyebrows drawing together. "Any family? What about your village?"
The girl made as though to answer but, thinking better of it, stopped herself. Looking down, she shook her head again.
"... I see," the man said quietly, his eyes lingering on the raw skin and rope burns around her wrists.
It would be some years until she would meet a rather flamboyant, befeathered individual, who hailed from even deeper in Rukongai, and learn that sacrificing those who exhibited spiritual power to the hollow they inevitably drew in, for the sake of the rest of the village, was a fairly common practice in the smaller, isolated communities of Soul Society. On a different occasion – one where several recent recruits to the Gotei Thirteen had been abducted at night by an equally flamboyant personage sporting a straw hat and pink kimono, and essentially forced to abandon their studies to join him in drinking in celebration to their joining the troop – she would come to find out that her savior had happened upon her completely by accident. Sensing a hollow while on his annual trip to Eastern Rukongai, he had run off to investigate on his own, to the utter chagrin of his staff who had struggled to keep up with his much faster shunpo.
She knew none of this, of course, at the moment. Only that he had saved her, and was now offering her a place to stay; maybe, even, to belong.
"Would you like to come with me to a place called Seireitei?" he asked, gently extending a hand. "It's a little bit far, and different from what you're used to, but you will have food and warm clothing."
The girl's eyes widened, gleaming, at the mention of what every inhabitant of that same Seireitei would consider the barest necessities, her apprehension slowly but surely melting away. Still, she frowned. "No monsters?"
The man laughed softly. "No monsters," he promised. "If you want, there's a place in Seireitei that can teach you how to defeat those monsters."
She hesitated a minute longer, and then tentatively reached out and took his hand. Her hand was tiny in comparison, completely engulfed by his long, elegant fingers that closed over her own. His touch was warm.
The man stood up, and helped her to her feet. "I'm Jūshirō. What's your name?"
"Hoshi," she said, slate-blue eyes bright and vividly out of place on her bony, dirty, tear-streaked face. "Hoshi Utagawa."
"Well, Hoshi, it's a pleasure to meet you." Jūshirō smiled again, before raising his head to briefly squint into the distance at several black-robed figures running towards them, cries of 'Captain!' faint in the air. He reached into one of his long sleeves and pulled out a large pouch, tipping it towards her. "How about some candy?"