Last story for the year 2010 (for me anyways. for some of you, it's already the new year). What an year it's been…I'm getting all sentimental now…but as a final celebration and tribute to the tenth year in this new millennia, I present to you the tenth story about our favourite tenth division captain!
I thought it'd be appropriate to post this last, because it sort of brings all of Toushirou's experiences together in little snippets, and though it might not be my best work, it was definitely interesting to write. Bolded italics are Toushirou's personal thoughts. Italics are flashbacks, and normal text is normal text.
Thank you to AznVKai for the prompt! I forgot to credit her for my Hitsuhina oneshot as well, so I shall go do that now! Please enjoy.
Regrets
"Do you ever regret dying and coming to Soul Society, Shiro-chan?"
First district, west Rukongai…the only ones here who aren't afraid of me are Hinamori and Obaa-san
As the morning sun crept into the small house, eyelids pealed back, revealing a set of brilliant turquoise eyes. The owner of the eyes was a small boy that looked no older than ten. Yawning, he sat up, stretching, and looked outside. His eyes widened as he saw the snow-covered landscape.
"You're awake, Shiro-chan!"
The boy's eyes narrowed and he growled slightly, turning to face the girl beside him. She wore a warm, cheerful smile, but that did not soften the boy one bit. "I told you, it's not Shiro-chan. Hitsugaya Toushirou…is that too hard a name to say, bed-wetter?"
'How mean!" she pouted, sticking out her tongue. "I don't wet the bed anymore!"
He shrugged, and jutted his chin out stubbornly. She only laughed, and got up, calling out, "I'm going outside to play with A-chan and Tecchin! Get up soon and join us!"
She tumbled out of the room. Toushirou could hear his grandmother calling at her from the porch, reminding her to put on extra clothes. The boy sighed. Despite the girl's invitation, he knew he wouldn't be going. The other children were too afraid of him.
Only with her can he act so open. Only with her and his granny can he be himself. With the others, he always hid behind a thick mask.
They're all afraid of me…just as it always has been…
December had brought with it a bout of cold weather. The snow stuck to the industrialized city, creating piles of dirty sludge which, try as it may, the pure white snow falling from the sky could not cover.
"Bundle up!" a woman's voice scolded.
The boy looked up emotionlessly. As his icy, turquoise eyes met that of the woman before him, he saw her flinch. Everyone flinched whenever he looked at them.
"I don't feel the cold very much, Okaa-san. I don't need it."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "Are you trying to go against me?"
"No, okaa-san, I truly don't need it."
The woman turned, and walked off. "Do as you please. See if I care."
The boy looked after the one he called his mother. He always treated her with respect, and yet she still shunned and avoided him. She didn't love him. No one did. Even as he walked outside, he noticed that as soon as all the children saw him, the edged away, frightened.
"Toushirou?"
The boy was shaken out of his reverie by his grandmother. The elderly lady smiled at him. "I've made you some amanatto."
He grinned at her. "Thanks granny."
His grandmother looked at him carefully. "You seem to have adjusted to life here easily. Do you not ever regret coming to live with us? After all, we live so much more simpler than most other folks."
The boy looked at her carefully. With her, he had felt safe for the first time. He had felt warmth, and he had felt love.
"No, I do not."
The academy was quite an experience, though Toushirou wouldn't call it a nice one. He had almost no friends in his brief time there. Even Momo had to graduate soon after he started, and only Kusaka Sojiro was ever kind among the many strangers of this place.
Even among the people training to be shinigami, I was an outcast.
He threw himself into his studies, concentrating upon them to erase the lingering loneliness that he was sadly slowly becoming accustomed to. Yet that did not mean that the students stopped picking upon him.
"Hey look," a voice came from behind him as he sat in the library. "It's that new prodigy!" the last word was thrown spitefully. The boy did not turn, opting to ignore the jibe. His lack of a reaction only provoked the speaker more. "I heard you were raised to the sixth year class today. And what's more, the sixth year advanced class. Why, you think you're so special?"
The boy twitched, and it took all his willpower not to turn and make a retort.
My peers always hated me, just because I was able to do better in school and learned quickly. Just because the teachers praised my so-called talent.
"Hitsugaya Toushirou. Excellent work again, Hitsugaya-kun!"
The boy looked up as the teacher called out his name. She was handing back their recent math test. He glanced at his mark, but felt no pride at seeing the 100% upon the paper. There was nothing special about it. The subject was hardly difficult.
At least, not for him.
The students around him glared at the boy. Not only had he skipped a year of curriculum, but he was also beating them all.
"Seriously, who does he think he is? Just cause he's so smart and all, he can just sit there and act all superior about it? I bet they just let him get here cause of money or connections or something."
The boy bristled. None of what had been said was true. He never acted aloof, only cold because there was never anyone to act otherwise to. He wasn't here due to connections. His parents hadn't even wanted him here.
"Is that it?" one of the speakers turned toward the boy with a scathing look, seeing him grow tense and knowing that he'd heard. "Is that how it is, freak? Or maybe they pitied you cause people in your old class didn't like your freakish looks. Well guess what, you aren't welcome here!"
"We don't want you here! We've worked so hard over the years just to reach our place, and you just waltz into our class just because they think you're so talented?"
The boy clenched his fists. He was seriously contemplating shooting a nice kidou spell at the speaker. Nothing harmful, just something that might make him stuck to a bookshelf until someone else found him.
"Hey, leave him alone!" a voice called out. Toushirou looked up to see Kusaka. He glared down at the boy who had been taunting Toushirou. 'Just because you're green with jealousy doesn't mean we want to see it. It's very unbecoming you know."
The other glared up at Kusaka, but didn't dare argue with the much taller student. He merely stalked off, throwing one last scathing comment over his shoulder "At least I'm not some white-haired freak like him."
Toushirou stiffened, but said nothing. Kusaka frowned. "Some people just never know when to shut up. He looked toward his friend. "Hey, don't let them bother you. They're just stupid and jealous cause you received the top marks in the class."
The boy shrugged. "I'll try. That guy should be grateful you stepped in. I was contemplating using hainawa on him."
"And leaving him here till morning? Maybe I should have let you," Kusaka grinned, and his cheerfulness seemed to calm Toushirou. "Hey, what do you say we go do some training?"
"Sure," Toushirou answered, snapping his book shut. "I'm tired of reading anyways."
The two silently made their way out of the library. It was night, but some training grounds should still be open, if you can get special permission, and as the two top students, Kusaka and Toushirou had little problems with that. After a few moments of silence, Kusaka looked sideways at his friend, giving him a concerned look after they had taken a few more paces. "Hey, Hitsugaya, you don't ever regret coming to the academy, do you?"
Toushirou gave him a sharp look. "What makes you think that?"
Kusaka shrugged. "Well, you never seem to enjoy yourself here. You're always scowling and cold, and the students give you a hard time."
Toushirou was silent. In truth, he couldn't say that there was much he enjoyed at the academy. The lessons had ceased to be very interesting and the people were mostly less than cordial, but still there were some merits to being here. He could finally stop holding back, and it was always worth seeing what sort of things he could do, what sort of abilities he had. And here, he'd made his first friend other than Hinamori Momo.
Unlike it had been in the human world, there were times he enjoyed schooling at the Spirit Arts Academy.
He gave Kusaka a look. It took him longer than it had to answer his grandmother, but eventually, he said, "No, I don't regret it."
Graduating, becoming a new shinigami, this hadn't excited him as much as other students. He hadn't wanted to become one in the first place, and only went to the academy to control his powers. His aversions to those who controlled the happenings of Soul Society had grown since the incidents that had transpired in the chambers of Central 46. But still, he could see no other choice for him at this point, except joining the Gotei 13, and so, he chose to join the thirteenth.
The thirteenth division is supposed to be a friendly place, yet still, not all accepted me.
"Good Morning Hitsugaya!" a voice spoke cheerily. Toushirou looked up. Shiba Kaien stood over him, grinning. "Why are you always alone and avoiding everyone? Ukitake-taichou's getting worried. You know how he is whenever his youngest officer vanishes." he continued as he looked around the deserted training grounds that the boy had chosen to take his break. The other shinigami were off celebrating the Christmas season, but he chose to sit alone in the snow. After all these years, the snow was still gave him a sense of comfort, though he wondered at times whether it was due to his connection with Hyourinmaru. Besides, here, he could also avoid all the stares and whispers of his fellow shinigami, if only for a little while.
"I don't like crowds," Toushirou answered, not looking at the lieutenant. He'd avoided people for the most part ever since Kusaka had died, finding himself not trusting the authorities very much anymore. However, there was a certain quality about Kaien that made many trust him, even Toushirou.
Kaien grinned. "I noticed. Only you would choose to sit in the snow alone during the holidays."
The boy shrugged. Usually his cold attitude put people off, but Kaien was unperturbed.
"So why are you here then?"
Toushirou shrugged. "I thought to do some training."
The lieutenant nodded in approval. "Well, at least you're doing something useful if you're not celebrating, unlike some others. Training's always important. It's always good to be in fit shape for a fight. Maybe I'll join you."
Before Toushirou could protest, Kaien had already drawn his zanpakutou, which Toushirou had not noticed before, and come at him. The boy was forced to dodge, and quickly pulled his own zanpakutou out.
To another, this might have looked out-a grown lieutenant fighting a young officer. But Kaien was different that way. He cared not for ranks, titles, and achievements, and always made every officer feel that they were worthy of his time. He didn't mind helping train the younger officers, or ever offering them aid. And whether you were a noble or a commoner, talented or untalented, he treated everyone with equal respect. He treated them all with a strong, yet kind hand, and even Toushirou came to greatly respect him.
The lieuteant and captain were two of the only people who really accepted me as a shinigami. The rest shunned me. I rarely saw Ukitake-taichou, but Shiba-fukutaichou was always there, ready to help out or at least crack a joke to lighten the mood. It was good to have a resourceful lieutenant like him, and I respected him. Yet, even as I began to rely on Shiba Kaien, he was gone, just as my father had gone as I came to rely upon him
He rarely ever saw his father. He worked overseas and rarely came home. The boy cherished every single time that his father came, for unlike the others, he did not shun him. He was not afraid of him, and he treated him with kindness.
"Hello, Toushirou!"
The boy looked up. He cocked his head slightly, trying to recognize the man. The man sighed. "Do you not recognize me, son?"
The boy shook his head. The man smiled slightly. "Well then, we'll just start over, huh? I haven't seen you since you were a toddler."
Toushirou was unsure. He looked to where his mother was, but his mother only gave him a strained smile and gestured for him to go on. Silently, he followed the man as he took him around town, asking about what he liked to do, and chuckling as the boy said, "nothing."
"There must be something. What do you do with your friends?"
"I don't have friends," he answered. The man frowned. "This is harder than I thought."
They tried a variety of things. Toushirou didn't like responding to many things, but the man was persistent, even when the boy snapped irately or spoke coldly. He'd just laugh and tease him. Finally, they settled upon going to a bookstore.
All this time, Toushirou observed the man. Slowly he began to notice things-the fact that their face build were similar, that he liked to pat him on the head, a gesture that both irritated him and made him feel nostalgic. It was when he offered to go get watermelon flavored shaved ice that the boy sudden remembered.
"Otou-san..."
the man's eyes widened, and then a large grin spread upon his face. "You finally recognized me..."
After that, he knew that he could trust this man. He knew that the man would never reject him, unlike all the other people in his life. Though he rarely saw him, the man always managed to lift his spirits a little, taking his thoughts away from the miserable life he led, and gave him some reprieve. That is, until the fateful day when a stranger in a suit came to his house. His mother had told him to go to his room, but he couldn't help but listen.
"I'm sorry, but your husband was killed last night."
Dead…he was dead…his father was dead…
Toushirou 's eyes widened in disbelief. "Shiba-fukutaichou is dead?"
Kotetsu Kiyone nodded solemnly, fighting back tears. The boy shakily walked off, unsure whether or not to believe it. He'd heard rumors that the lieutenant's wife had been killed, but this…perhaps Kiyone had been misinformed.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't watch his way, and didn't notice as Ukitake came around the corner, nearly slamming headfirst into the man. "Careful, Hitsugaya-kun."
Toushirou bowed in apology, and as he rose, he noticed something off about the man. His eyes were listless, and his expression weary, grief written in every line upon his suddenly older looking face. "Taichou?"
Ukitake gave him a sad smile. "Hitsugaya-kun, our division suffered many losses last night. Among them, our lieutenant, Shiba Kaien."
Toushirou froze, staring up at the man, uncomprehending. "Shiba-fukutaichou? How..."
"It was a hollow, the same one that killed his wife. I'm afraid that it overpowered him."
The boy's eyes were wide. He couldn't believe it, yet the captain couldn't possibly be lying, nor could he have been misinformed. The lieutenant, the friendly lieutenant that everyone trusted, relied upon, and loved...he was dead? Kaien, the first person in the division to treat him normally, as he would any other officer, and not with aversion because he looked strange, nor oddness because he was a prodigy, was dead?
He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, trying not to let his grief show. Was he destined to always lose every single person that he found he could trust?
"Being a shinigami is hard, you know. We constantly have to deal with losses," the captain sighed as the boy nodded, not speaking, other losses he'd suffered coming to mind. His eyes widened as he felt a hand brush his hair softly. Looking up, he saw Ukitake give him a comforting smile. "Do you regret it, Hitsugaya-kun? Do you regret joining my division and becoming with a shinigami, in turn dealing with all of this?"
Toushirou hesitated. He wasn't sure, at this moment, what he felt. Becoming a shinigami had brought him much hardship, and now once again he was faced with losing those that meant something to him. Kusaka…Kaien…
And yet, there were still others. He still had others, like Momo, and his captain, Ukitake, who despite being sick was always kind and caring toward him and the rest of the division. Unlike the times when he'd lost people in his life, this time, he still had people left. Losing people was hard, but he had gained more people he cared about than he ever had in life. Walking down this path, he'd gained people that he trusted, people he could count on.
"No," he spoke slowly. "I don't."
Ukitake gave him one last smile, and walked away.
Leading the tenth division had been a major step in his path. It was one he could not turn from. He still remembered all the reasons that brought him to his final decision.
I remembered when I became a captain; it wasn't just because they needed another. I truly wanted to see if I could do it, if I could prove myself, and earn some respect. I wanted to be accepted more.
"As your captain, I expect orders to be followed, which include orders to do your paperwork!" Toushirou rubbed his temples as he let out a frustrated growl. His lieutenant, the cheerful and playful Matsumoto Rangiku only grinned. "Ah, yes, but I don't want to! Taichou, I'm bored! Besides, you're so cute and kid-like, it makes me want to cuddle you instead!"
The boy resisted the urge to use Hyourinmaru upon the woman. So many things were going wrong. His division doubted him, wondering how a child could lead them. The other captains doubted him, wondering how a child could stand among them as an equal. Even now, he was struggling for recognition and approval.
"Why did I even bother to lead this division?" he muttered. At the lieutenant's laugh, he glared at her. "Get to work. And I'm not the same kid you met in Rukongai anymore, so quit calling me cute."
"Yes, yes, I can see that," Matsumoto said, still chortling.
Yet even among my division, there were those who doubted my abilities. As it had always been.
"You're leading us?"
Toushirou sighed, and looked up. His turquoise eyes were cold and guarded, and he gave a frigid glare at the student who spoke. Because of his good grades, the teachers had requested that he tutor some other students. The fact that the students in the group were all either the same age or older than him hardly helped.
"Are you sure you'd be good enough?"
The boy glared at them. "Well, why don't we find out? You could do some work, and then I'll look over it."
The other students shrugged. They did not open their books, but rather began talking to each other, pointedly ignoring the presence of the boy who was suppose to tutor them. Toushirou quietly gritted his teeth. It was always like this. No matter how good his records were, most people always doubted his abilities, simply because he was too young.
The young captain swept the halls of the fourth. Matsumoto followed closely behind him. Unohana was waiting for them at the end of the hall. She gave Toushirou a nod as he approached, and he nodded in return, before pushing the door open. He saw several beds lined up, filled with injured shinigami. Approaching the nearest conscious one, he stood and gave the man an appraising gaze. The other shinigami lowered his eyes slightly, unwilling to meet his captain's eyes.
At length, Toushirou broke the silence. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
The other shinigami shook his head. "I was an idiot," he sighed. "I thought…"
"You didn't think," Toushirou narrowed his eyes. "Was it because of me? Was it that you find so much shame in following 'a child' that you would willingly disobey orders to show defiance to me being your captain? Recklessly charging into battle like that. Did you know that the hollow could use poison that would make you lose control of your body? No, you didn't, but you charged in anyways. I did, and I told you to move away, and form a barrier, but you did not."
The other shinigami said nothing. The boy let out a slow breath to calm himself. "When a captain gives you a order, you should follow it. I may look young, but I've had many experiences with hollows and battle, and when I tell you to do something, you should do it. Otherwise, it leads to other complications like it did today. You and your squad are lucky to be alive."
The shinigami nodded. Toushirou turned away. "Good, I hope you've learnt your lesson, and if it really pains you that much to trust me, at least examine your opponents before charging into battle next time, so you won't make the same mistake again."
The captain made to move, but the shinigami had more to say. "I…I'm sorry, taichou. Next time, I'll be more careful, and I'll listen. Thank you for saving all our lives today."
Toushirou paused, and turned. "I saved you because it was my duty as a captain to protect my subordinates, just as it is your duty as a subordinate to obey your captain."
The shinigami nodded. "I know…I'm sorry…but you sure have an awesome shikai, sir."
The boy rolled his eyes inwardly and left the room, with Matsumoto following him. "New recruits…" Toushirou muttered darkly, scowling as he made his way down the hall again.
"Well, you certainly dealt with him. Kinda harsh, but I think he needed it," Matsumoto commented, grinning. "And it was an awesome shikai, taichou."
"Sucking up won't do much good on his part," Toushirou crossed his arms. He remembered the battle; the shinigami all coming in contact with the poison, losing control, with arms and legs flailing, swords flashing. They were all out of control, and as the new recruits charged, it only added more blades to the mix. He remembered battling through all the flailing blades (not easy since he couldn't cut down his subordinates), restraining them with kidou as he passed. All this he had to do quickly, for his breath was held, and he had to find the hollow that released the poison to free his subordinates.
"It was pretty amazing though," Matsumoto commented. "How you managed to battle through them and find the hollow and kill it in one breath.
"It wasn't hard," Toushirou shrugged. "With you distracting it." Matsumoto had kept shooting it with weak kidou from afar. As Toushirou predicted, the easy ability of the hollow to deflect it made it overconfident and careless, drawing it into the open and causing it to be unaware of Toushirou's approach until it was trapped under three meters of ice. Only when the hollow died did the poison dissipate, and other shinigami able to transport the restrained shinigami to the fourth. By then, most were injured, some quite seriously.
"Leading a division is so much more stressful than I bargained for. I don't know what I was thinking, coming back to a role like leading."
Matsumoto raised an eyebrow. She didn't fully understand what the boy meant, so she prodded him further, "What, you regret becoming a captain?"
Toushirou paused. His face turned thoughtful. Becoming a captain? He wasn't sure how to answer. In his human life he'd never made much progress as a leader, for no one listened to him. Yet here, in the tenth, though people had doubted him at first, he had seen them slowly adjust to him leading them, slowly accept him, and after today, slowly respect him. The shinigami who'd helped move the injured obeyed his commands without argument, having seen how well the captain dealt with the hollow, and the ones he'd saved slowly came to recognize him for his abilities.
Here, he'd finally been given the power to prove himself, if only to his division. Even Matsumoto, who'd treated him as a kid upon his first arrival, and begun to view him with respect and treat him more as a captain.
"No, I don't regret being a captain."
"Good," Matsumoto said, grinning. "Cause I wouldn't want another captain."
"Why?"
"Because no one else is as short as you, so I can't just hug them, smother them, and run when I need to get away!"
"MATSUMOTO!"
At least, she treated him with respect most of the time.
The battle with Aizen. All the confusion, turmoil, and chaos nearly brought Soul Society to its knees. All the while, many were dealing with painful betrayals, broken feelings, and general hardship.
But it was over. All over at last, Aizen was gone, the threats were gone, and peace had finally come onto Soul Society again.
Toushirou was sitting with Momo. Outside, snow was falling softly, giving Seireitei a quiet, peaceful look. They hadn't just spent time like this for many years, and with the Aizen problem over, they were finally able to just enjoy some peaceful moments again.
It was then that she asked that question.
"Do you ever regret dying, and coming to Soul Society, Shiro-chan?"
He'd been confused at first by her question, and gave her a look that said so. She grinned sheepishly and tried to explain. "You know, you seemed to have died so young, and when you came here you went through so much trouble, especially the war…" she paused for a moment and grimaced. "Don't you ever regret dying and coming here, because maybe you wouldn't have had to experience all that?"
He was quiet for a moment. This question, this question among all the other things he had been asked of, that he could have regretted, it was the one thing that he'd never contemplated. And yet, as he looked upon his past again, looked at every single event that had brought him to where he was today, he realized that they were all connected to this one thing. Death. His life as a human had all seemed to draw steadily toward his death, and yet his death had been the start of his new life. His life now, as a shinigami, all stemmed from his death.
I had come very close to dying in the war. It brought back memories, painful memories of the last time I died
It had been a hard year. Winter that year was particularly bitter. His mother lost her job, and now worked long hours at another job, with barely enough money to support her and Toushirou. Their home was now nothing more than a small, run-down, one-room apartment with no heating or electricity, for they couldn't afford it. Toushirou had been pulled out of school and out of every single thing he used to do. He would only wake up each morning, find a bowl of cold, canned food, and simply do nothing for nearly the whole day until his mother came home in the evening. Nothing but sit still, letting the cold winter air seep through their house, swirl around him, push against his being until he felt one with the cold.
December 20th. He still remembered that date clearly, for it was the first day when he'd woken to something different. It was warm, though that wasn't what had woken him. Groaning, he wondered if his mother had finally gained enough money to get heating again. But no, something didn't feel right. As he sat up, he smelled something odd, something acrid that made him recoil. That was what had woken him. As he took another breath, through his mouth this time, the harsh air burned against his lungs.
Frowning, he sat up from his sleeping mat, rubbing sleep from his eyes. At that moment, he froze. The table that always held the can of tinned food was on fire.
He rushed up, mind racing. He had to stop the flames. Yet even as he did, the flames spread, running their red-hot fingers along the wood and devouring it with gluttonous speed. Soon it was spreading to the floor.
He quickly crawled toward the door, and attempted to open it. The door rattled, but would not give. Cursing, the boy banged against it, using all his strength, but it held.
He looked back. His turquoise eyes mirrored the flames that had spread quickly along the entire room. There was only one room in the apartment after all, and it had quickly all become territory of the fire.
Looking back, I wondered how I didn't notice that the floor was much too slippery. It was oil. Oil that had spilled upon the floor, oil that fueled the fire.
There was no way to crawl, but Toushirou knew he had to escape. The window was across the room. Running across the burning floor, he ignored the smarting and blistering of his feet as he ran along it. Smoke filled his lungs, and burned his eyes, causing tears to smear down his now soot covered face. He ignored it, ignored it all, and reached the window, frantically trying to open it. But it was jammed as well.
Fire began to lick up toward him, attracted by something that had smeared upon his clothes. He let out a cry as the hot tongues of flames licked his skin. He pounded against the glass.
At that moment, he noticed someone standing outside. She was still, as if she were a being made of snow, and did nothing but stare up at the apartment. For a moment, their eyes locked, eyes whose shape were exactly the same.
"Okaa-san…"
I wondered why it never occurred to me that she'd set this up. At the time, I thought mothers always protected their children, and I thought she'd help me. I wondered why I never realized that the last person in the world who might have a shred of care for me had betrayed me.
He pounded against the glass, hoping she'd recognize him and come to his aid. But she did nothing, only stood. She'd had enough. The boy was a burden, and she had never liked him. She'd always been afraid of him, afraid of this boy who was so different from her and her husband, who had unnatural white hair and turquoise eyes. He was an odd one, and to her, a curse, and mistake.
She only stared as he looked desperately at her, not even raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
The boy felt a sense of abandonment. Why? Why was she ignoring him? He had no idea, but he did know that the fire had taken a hold of his clothes. Heat was pressing down upon him, and agonizing and searing pain raced along him. All the while, smoke filled his lungs, choked him, and deprived him of oxygen. His body was beginning to feel weak, and his lungs were screaming for fresh air. His one conscious thought was that he had to get out.
Gathering the last of his strength, he slammed his body against the window. The glass, already cracking due to the sudden differences in temperature inside and outside, finally gave and shattered. Shards embedded themselves in the boy's face and body, but Toushirou barely gave them a thought, only relieved to finally be free of the burning house.
Cool air hit his face. He welcomed it, welcomed the biting cold that brushed against his burns. He welcomed the fresh, sharp air that made its way into his longs at last. He was hardly aware that he was falling, his body weakened with all the smoke and carbon monoxide in his system, but when he fell into the snow below, he relished the feel of the cold ice pressing against his body.
I've always wondered if my dying in a fire was the reason I detested heat. I've wondered if the experience of being trapped in that tiny, choking room as it burned was the reason I've always loved wide, open spaces.
He didn't know that his mother had breathed in sharply when he fell, and for a moment, something akin to grief and horror flashed across her face. She started forward, toward her son's burnt, finally spent body.
The boy rolled over, allowing the cold snow to touch his back. He barely noticed the initial pain as it contacted his burns, only felt the relieving numbness that it bestowed. His eyes slid open, and stared upwards. He saw the sky, the large, wide-open sky, saw the snowflakes gently falling toward him. The sight was enough to bring a feeling of peace to him. His breath came in shaky gasps, but he hardly cared. "The Sky…the winter's sky…snow…"
I've wondered if that was the reason I've loved the snow and the sky. I wondered it that was why I always loved winter. It had brought relief, cool, pure relief. It did not avoid me like the people did. It did not abandon me. Snow fell upon me even as he lay, unable to help myself any longer, and it brought me freedom, relief at last from the terrible life I've led.
His vision had dimmed, and yet he still stared at the sky, watching as a last snowflake fell, falling sharply toward him, coming closer, closer... But at that moment, his body finally gave in and all plunged into black.
I remembered when I awoke again. I was still in the snow, still staring at a winter's sky, and for a moment, I thought I was still stuck in my miserable world. But even as I expected my mother's face to suddenly come into view, what I saw next was the face of a young girl, a girl with wide brown eyes and a worried expression. But not because of me. Worried for me. I suppose I realized then that I was truly dead, for never had anyone looked upon me with such eyes before.
"Dying, huh?" he muttered, feeling the memories resurface. He grimaced slightly. Then he thought about his near death in the war.
It had been release to die that first time, and as I lay upon the ground, wounded and barely clinging to life after Aizen attacked me, I wished I could die again, to find release again. But something stopped me. Perhaps it was because I thought there was more to live for. I had more reason to live than I had when I died as a human. There were still people out there I could protect, still people that care about me, aren't there?
He felt memories of all his past experiences rise up. He remembered all those times where people have asked if he'd regretted a choice he'd made along his path. All the times he'd negated the assumption.
But this was something that hadn't truly been his choice. This was something that had happened to him, and he couldn't do anything about it. And yet, of all the times he could have regretted something, he found himself sure of his decision the most for this question.
My life in Soul Society seemed similar to what it had been when I was alive, and yet, I moved further. I lived past it, and somehow...
"No, I don't regret it."
Momo gave him a wide-eyed look, and he gave her a faint smile. "I really don't."
For most people, the passing on to Soul Society was the beginning of a long wait until they could live again. But for him, it had been the beginning of a life that he could live. Living in Soul Society, living as a shinigami, he'd felt his life progress for the first time.
Somehow, I've found my life, and a purpose in death, and so, I never regretted dying on that fateful day.
So yes…that's it…For those that read Heavenly Blade, the Dragon's Tale, you might notice that this story is quite similar to that one, with the one bid difference being that Toushirou had a human life.
If the timeline was confusing, then let me explain. It starts with Momo's question, and he goes into thought. All the things in between are technically him remembering before he answers her final question.
Also, to clear up more confusion. He didn't think of Kaien as his father. He thought of him as someone he respected and trusted, just as he'd come to respect and trust someone in life, that someone being his father.
For when he was living. I never specified how old he was, but I'm of the belief that you sort of get aged down a bit when you die, though not by a lot. It's sort of to when you were last strongest in your physical or else old people would seriously have no chance to live long in Soul Society, so he was probably a little older when he died, at perhaps thirteen or something. Besides, he's always looked young, hasn't he? Also, I believe that not all souls need a shinigami to guide them, or there would never be enough shinigami at work to guide them all. Maybe some, though rare souls find their way there alone. Who knows. Just go along with it please!
And now, after this long and tedious note, and I wish you all a happy new year! Thank you for sticking with me, and thanks to all my readers for their support during this year. This project is finished, just as the year 2010 is finished. But of course, our favourite tenth captain will still continue on (he better, or Kubo will get much anger from me.) Thanks for reading!