Author's Note: I MIGHT turn this into a series that details the lives and untimely deaths of various Soul Reapers, and maybe even some other characters as well, such as Arrancar and Vizard. However, I'll only do this if this one-shot is popular enough...I'm not going to ask for a certain number of comments or stuff like that, I just need to know people enjoy this idea!

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His first thought upon awakening was that being dead wasn't so different from being alive. True, he wasn't currently weighed down by a body, but that was besides the fact. He also realized his body felt totally, entirely, completely, still. Normally, even when someone was standing perfectly still, their bodies still worked: their blood circulated, their heart beat, their lungs breathed, their intestines churned. But for the boy, there was none of that. He didn't know one could even feel those things when they were alive.

Out of curiosity, he wiggled his fingers and stretched out his arm and found, to his amazement, that his bones had healed. How? They were broken horribly in the crash, he knew that much. His whole left side was bent at a odd angle, as if the bones were still broken, but when he moved his left arm again, it moved just as it should've. Did he even have bones anymore?

He slowly peeled himself off the dirty sidewalk-when did he get there?-and slowly stood up on his feet, wobbling. His clothes still had a heavy layer of frost on them, and when he tried to unbutton his coat, he found out it was frozen solid to his body. He also discovered, to his embarrassment, that he had lost control of his bladder at some point, resulting in a large stain going down the front of his pants. Luckily, though, his trenchcoat just covered the mess up, and it was highly unlikely anybody would be looking there, anyway.

His second thought was on his current temperature. He was freezing! Luckily for him, a group of people had gathered to stare at the crash and figure out what had happened; perhaps one could give him a blanket or a heavier coat. Or even some hot chocolate! He tittered over to the crowd, still uneasy on his frozen legs, and attempted to tap on the shoulder of the man in front of him.

His finger touched the man's shoulder, he was sure of that fact, but the man didn't look over. The absolute nerve! How dare a simple civilian ignore the touch of such a prominent figure! He hoped his father hired this man, just so he could demand his immediate sacking. Yet, when he tapped harder, the man still failed to turn around.

"Pardon me sir, but I am standing right behind you! How can you just ignore the voice of Timothy Samson White's son? My father is most likely the reason why you are even in a job, living on this filthy street, eating your filthy food and taking care of your filthy family!" He finished hotly, nearly spewing out fire from his mouth. There was his rebellious streak, the cause of the crash in the first place. Or rather, the precursor to the crash. He took a deep breath to calm himself, since after all, he swore to God that if He spared his life, he'd rid himself of his rebel side.

Still the man ignored him, making the boy's-Nathaniel's-face fall. How could nobody hear him? He ran over to a nearby woman and tried talking to her, only to have her simply walk away. He was dead, he knew that much, but surely people were still aware of his presence? After all, many people sought amusement by attending seances and summonings, and those were ghosts being called, were they not? He recalled visiting one just the past week with one of his comrades, Jonathan. His friends, and the nobility in general, were huge suckers for the paranormal and occult, actually believing that stuff to be real. If it was, then why did the ghost never show itself? They could communicate with the living, at least, so why couldn't he? Maybe they only could with the help of a medium. So if he found one of those...

However, he didn't have time for that just yet, so in distress, Nathaniel ran back over to the crash site and plowed himself into another woman. He felt the contact on his side, but she remained unaffected.

Since they couldn't feel his presence, he decided to hang around and see what they were talking about. Perhaps they were bringing his body back to his father for a burial! He smiled a bit at this, perhaps people weren't so bad after all.

"Such a shame, he had potential. I blame his father." A man scoffed, making Nathaniel's face fall.

"He was rich too. Always the rich ones," A woman said sadly.

"I have a fun idea. Let's loot his body! Why let the autopsy have all the fun?" Another man announced, and everyone agreed and got to it instantly.

The joke was on them, Nathaniel didn't leave anything valuable on his body before leaving, although he soon quickly realized anything on his person would be considered valuable to these peasants.

"I found something!" A woman announced loudly, eyeing a golden ring with a fat gem made from green jade in the center. Nathaniel stared at the ring on his pinkie, that too wasn't worth much money. Both the gold and the jade were fake. It was actually a gift from his best friend's grandmother in the hopes of a courtship. He'd love to court the girl, but it was a bit too late for that. Nevertheless, he never took that ring off, as it helped him feel closer to her.

Another woman pounced on the first one, proclaiming it hers, and then proceeding to rip the ring off Nathaniel's body's pinkie. Unfortunately for her, she got the whole finger, and promptly paled and threw it far away with a scream.

Nathaniel glared at her for this and stormed over to the group, slamming his hands down loudly on the smashed hood of the car. "Leave my body alone, you pillaging thieves! Why not make like the rats you truly are and scurry away from here?" He yelled hotly, feeling his temper rise.

As his anger grew stronger, so did a large group of grey storm clouds overhead, though Nathaniel himself was not aware of them yet. "Why couldn't you just deliver my body to my father? He'd make sure I was taken care of! Instead, you have to break apart my body and search it for riches I don't even have! Just leave and go back to living your worthless lives; they are clearly worthless if you have to steal from a rich man's dead son to get off!"

At this point, a super-cold wind suddenly gusted around the crowd, making some stop what they were doing and look around worriedly. "There's five days left until Christmas, and you're stealing? Shame on all of you! I hope you all burn and rot in Hell!"

With that final statement, he waved his hand in front of the crowd, pretending to sweep them all away, but to his surprise, another, even stronger wind blew, knocking one woman over.

"Where did this storm come from? It's so random!" A man cried, pausing his action of unbuttoning Nathaniel's body's coat buttons.

"It's the middle of December in London, what did you expect?" A woman snapped, shivering. A heavy snowfall had started, resulting in most of the people running off in search of warm shelter, the body forgotten.

Nathaniel stared at his hand in surprise, then at the snow heaving down from the clouds above him. Did...did he just make it snow? But yet, he wasn't shivering like everybody else. He felt something ice-cold trickle down his cheek, and he wiped it off with his gloved hand and stared at it: it was a frozen tear.

So he cried ice? What else could he do? Did ice cubes run through his veins now, and did he piss glacier run-off? Since nobody else could see him, he continued to let tears run down his face, finally crying for everything he couldn't cry about in life.

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Nathaniel slowly walked down the streets of downtown London, still feeling awkward on his frozen, rubber-band legs. Unbeknownst to him, he was leaving a trail of thick ice whenever he walked, and it was present in the physical world, allowing for someone or something to slip and fall on it. He came across one of his most favorite candy stores, and paused to look at his reflection in the shop window.

The shop itself wasn't that special; it was very tiny and made of sturdy brown brick, and the painted signs in the door boasted both that it was currently closed and housed the best handmade candies in all of London. It was a frequent spot for Nathaniel and his group. A few days ago, him and Jonathan distracted the shopkeeper while Harrison and Vincent made off with some of the best, and most expensive, candies.

They had no reason to steal, Nathaniel especially, since he was the son of a very wealthy and prominent businessman. Anything he wanted, he just had to ask for. No, they didn't steal because they had no other method of obtaining it, they did it purely to rebel. Being rich was a punishment, and the only way they got off was to steal from small shops that nobody would really investigate that closely anyway.

He knew it was incredibly contradictory for him to yell at that crowd like he did earlier, but to be fair, he robbed candy from stores. They were robbing the dead body of a famous nobleman who could ruin their lives with a snap of his finger. Really, it was different in Nathaniel's eyes.

He drew closer to the window and stared at his reflection, his breath forming small frost patterns on the glass. He touched the glass with his hand, only to freeze it more, and in a panic, took his hand away.

His appearance had been changed drastically. His hair still stuck up in several directions in the back, only to smooth out in the front, but instead of being honey-blonde, it was pure white, the color of snow. He still had his cyan-colored eyes, but they were icier and glazed over. Frozen tears still clung to them. His face, however, was the most obvious sign of his hypothermia, and he doubled-over and threw up onto the sidewalk, refusing to look at his new look anymore.

His face was all puffy and blue, and even his lips were tinted a bright blue. Drippings from his nose were frozen, and he quickly wiped those away on his sleeve.

He was still dressed in what he was wearing when he crashed; a heavy brown trenchcoat, a ripped green scarf, which had become untied somewhat, a dark brown pantsuit under his coat, heavy brown boots, which were actually his father's, but they fit, so what did it matter? He also had his goggles secured firmly to his forehead, and his brown gloves, and he tried to remove one only to find, to his dismay, they were still frozen solid to his skin. Of course, the strangest change was a gaping hole in the center of his chest, which a long chain was connected to. The chain was so long it dragged on the ground, not making any sound at all. He found himself wondering what it was connected to, if anything at all.

Nathaniel sat down and leaned against the sturdy brick of the store, creating a thin outline of ice where his body was. He stared down at the vomit on the ground, finding it perfectly composed of everything he had eaten last for dinner: turtle and cabbage soup, hot, sweetened porridge, vanilla-flavored tea, chocolate cake, bread and butter, and a few sips of red wine from his uncaring mother. Soon it would just become another stain on the already-dirty London street.

He wiped his mouth off and became aware of someone staring at him, so he looked to his right and saw a woman standing there, staring intently at him. She had a piece of paper in her hands and every so often stared at that, then back at him.

Since she was preoccupied, Nathaniel took in her features, which were very out-of-place in Victorian London. For one thing, she had a faint white glow outlining her figure, even though there weren't any lamps turned on on this street. Her hair was a dark blonde and kept very short, not even to her shoulders. She had on a black robe that was very low-cut, and a brown badge written in another language was on her shoulder. A white sash was tied around her waist into a perfect bow, and around her neck she had tied a silk pink scarf and had a dangling silver necklace that vanished somewhere deep into her cleavage.

"Hey, you, boy! What are you staring at?" The woman demanded suddenly, shocking Nathaniel out of his thoughts. "Do I have something on my robe? No? Then stop it!"

"Pardon me, miss, I had no idea I was staring at you," Nathaniel apologized quickly, looking down at his feet.

"Look at me." She continued to demand, walking over to him and lifting his face up to match hers. "Ah, you're the boy alright!" A sudden cheery aura surrounded her, and she let go of him. "Not bad for my first job!"

"Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you, exactly? Are you an angel? My father told me that when people die on Earth, God sends His angels and the angels bring their soul to Heaven." He asked. "Am I going to Heaven?"

"If it comforts you to think of me as an angel, then I am one." She answered calmly. She looked at the trail of ice Nathaniel made as he walked to his current spot. "Did you do that?"

"Yes. Ever since I woke up, I froze things. I don't know how or why, but it is already a huge inconvenience."

"Did you die of hypothermia?"

"I took my father's car out when everyone was asleep, without permission. I ran the car into a patch of ice and lost control of the wheel, and I crashed into a lamp-post and broke several of my major bones. Since I couldn't get out and look for help, and nobody knew where I was, I froze to death. Only a few hours ago too. Hard to believe just twelve hours ago, I was doing my studies with my nursemaid." He shrugged.

"Hey, you're dead! Why don't you show more emotion about it?" The woman yelled, shocking Nathaniel.

"There's no point in that. I'm dead, and I honestly believe I am better off. I was a reckless fool growing up, and a horrendous brat. I promised God, however, that if He spared my life I'd change my ways for the better. I'd become a rule-follower, not a rule-breaker. I don't think I was entirely spared, but perhaps this is part of a bigger plan I haven't figured out yet." He picked up the long chain trailing out of his chest and studied it, then held it out towards her. "But before I move on, perhaps you can answer a few questions of mine? I am still new to this whole being dead thing."

"Of course! What do you want to know?" The woman asked cheerfully, and Nathaniel motioned to the chain he was holding. "Oh, that? That's important, hold onto that! If you don't pass on within seventy-two hours, or feel an intense negative feeling for a prolonged amount of time, you'll turn into a Hollow! Be glad I came here when I did!"

"A Hollow? What is that?" He dropped the chain, and despite hitting a brick road, it made no sound.

"Monstrous spirits of humans who have refused to pass on. They always attack and eat the people they loved the most as a human right after they transform." She stared at Nathaniel slightly. "Do you have anyone in your life you love?"

Did he? It seemed like such a simple question and answer, yet he wasn't sure he had an answer for that. Surely not his parents, his father was barely around, and his mother was reckless and often encouraged his troublemaking behavior rather than stopping it. He had his small gang, but he didn't really consider their relationship to be anything more than a partnership; surely nothing like love. However, there was the girl who used to live across the street from him. She insisted her family was from Japan, and since she was only two years younger than him, the two spent many hours together, and her father and grandmother both were considering courtship. She had the prettiest, silkiest black hair Nathaniel had ever seen, and despite being rich, she didn't flaunt it or rebel against it, she was quite content with her status and often threw money to people she found on the street. He wouldn't have called it love, not quite, but yet...

"Yes, there was someone. A noblegirl who lived across the street from me...her name was Hanako. She was very sweet and we spent hours and hours together, reading and playing piano. Well, Hanako was her real name. But she loved peaches to death and ate them every chance she got, so I called her Momo. She said that was Japanese for 'peaches', so there you go." He sighed slightly, thinking about the fact she was currently laying underground in her family's graveyard, forever asleep. He remembered her saying whenever she couldn't sleep, she would sit on her windowsill at night and stare up at the moon, making up stories of all the various shapes she saw in it.

"Momo, Hanako...is she Japanese?" The woman asked.

"She said she was."

"Was...you mean she's...?"

Nathaniel simply nodded. "She had only died six months ago, and I never forgave myself for it."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." The woman looked down at the ground, feeling uncomfortable. "It must be hard when a childhood friend dies...well, I can assure you that her soul is in what you call Heaven, and that she's healthy." She attempted to cheer him up, but Nathaniel simply stared at her, so she decided to change the subject quickly. "By the way, my name is Rangiku! Pleased to meet you! What is your name?" The Shinigami smiled at Nathaniel again.

"My name..? What does that matter? I am dead now, therefore, names shouldn't matter." He shrugged, only to get flicked on his forehead by Rangiku.

"Nonsense! Dead or not, your name makes up a part of your identity!" She scolded while Nathaniel rubbed his head.

"You are annoying..."

"Come on! Let me hear it!"

"Could I change it? Since being dead is part of reinventing myself, the first step should be changing my name. Do they do that in Heaven or where-ever you're from?" He looked up at her.

"Sure! People do it all the time! A new arrival from the Shin'O Academy is Taiwanese, and guess what he changed his name to? Yumichika Ayasegawa!" She smiled widely. "But before you change it, can you at least tell me?"

"...Nathaniel White. That is...was my name." He stood up slowly and wobbled unsteadily. "As for my new name...Hanako told me stories about a powerful warrior from the feudal era of Japan. His last name was Hitsugaya. Hearing those stories, I told myself I wanted to be like him, since he commanded power and intimidation without being a careless rebel, or even a bad person, like I was. So Hitsugaya shall be my new last name."

"And your first?" She coaxed.

"I want to keep the 'White' part of my name, since I feel that fits me now more than ever." As if to demonstrate his point, he breathed out and a fine layer of frost came out and spilled onto the street in front of him. "'Shiro' is Japanese for 'white', so my new first name shall be Toshiro. Thus, my new name is Toshiro Hitsugaya."

"What a cute name!" Rangiku gushed.

"It's not cute!" The newly-named Toshiro snapped, only to quickly recoil. Rangiku looked to her left and noticed the candy shop there, and quickly ran over to it and peeked inside the window.

"Wow, candy sure has changed the last time I was on Earth! Come to think of it, everything has, like the fashion and technology! What is a car?" She asked enthusiastically.

"It's kinda like a horseless buggy, but a lot faster and dangerous. Nobody really looks when they are driving them, so lots of accidents happen. On my block alone there have been eight car accidents this week." He shrugged, and Rangiku nodded and ran inside the candy store.

She came back a few minutes later with two overflowing bags of candy and handed one to Toshiro. She herself pulled out a peppermint stick and stared at it in curiosity, wondering what it was. Toshiro simply put his bag inside his coat and glared at the female Shinigami.

"Did you steal these?" He scolded.

"Oh, relax! Nobody can see me, so even if I did walk in, nobody would give me anything! Plus I'm pretty sure the money I have on me currently wouldn't work in this era!" She grinned and started sucking on her stick. "So, before I allow your soul to pass on, is there anything you want to do first? Anybody you'd like to see one last time? Any final questions?"

Toshiro thought about it. It was nearly Christmas, and saying 'farewell' to some of his friends and family was most certainly in order, but who would he he say it to? But the only person he'd even consider saying goodbye to had been dead since June, so he couldn't think of anybody else. But perhaps he could visit her grave? There were no laws against that,now were there?

"I'd like to see Hanako's grave one last time." Toshiro answered matter-of-factly, and started leading Rangiku to the graveyard for nobility-mainly his family. She happily followed. "I also have a few questions for you."

"Alrighty!"

"How come you can understand me? I am quite certain that even if you do speak English, mine is too formal and intellectual for you to properly follow, let alone begin to process. Also, how are you not fazed by my appearance? I looked at myself earlier and instantly vomited at the gruesome sight. I do not resemble myself at all! How come you aren't scared?" He rattled off quickly.

"Well, this may sound really dumb, but I think it's kinda cute! Us souls communicate with our own language we sorta already know from the time we die. It helps breaks the language barrier that comes with a job like this. To regular humans who happen to overhear us, however, they won't hear actual words or sentences. They'll just hear the breeze blowing by." She continued to suck on her candy stick.

Watching her eat suddenly gave Toshiro an intensely strong feeling of hunger, unlike anything he had ever felt before. Before he was fully aware of his action, he had already torn into his own candy bag and had started shoveling candy into his mouth, some still in their wrappers, in a desperate attempt to feel full again. Rangiku noticed this and took the candy out of her mouth, fully aware of what he was doing. She didn't say or do anything except watch Toshiro succumb to his basic needs and eat and walk at the same time.

Finally, after a few minutes, he ran out of candy, and seemed to be temporarily satisfied, and looked up at Rangiku with a confused look on his face. His mouth was covered in candy stains. "...Is this a normal thing? Do spirits get hungry?"

"Well..." Rangiku started, trying to think of the best thing to respond with. It was an extremely well-known fact around the Soul Society that souls did not eat. Their bodies had shut down permanently, freeing them of basic human needs forever. To be hungry meant one had an incredible power level and spiritual pressure. "You vomited earlier, yeah? Your body's replenishing itself!" She lied and laughed happily. Let him figure it out on his own when he was ready. Chances are she'd never even see this kid again.

"I have more questions. How am I not scary to you?" He demanded, simply discarding the bag on the street. Rangiku put her candy stick back in her mouth.

"This is my first Reaping, but they prepare you for some of the gruesome sights you might encounter. People who burn, drown, freeze, get stabbed or shot, starved, dehydrated, insert another cause of death here. We cover it all, and I already saw portraits of people who froze to death, so I'm not fazed by you." She explained.

"What exactly is a Reaping? And what exactly are you? You said earlier to think of you like an angel, but you're not an angel, are you?"

Before Rangiku could answer, she became aware of a carriage speeding towards them at a fast rate, due to slipping on Toshiro's ice trail. In a panic, she pushed him out of the road and into the grass, then fell on top of him, practically shielding him with her body. The carriage continued to slide, soon tipping over, causing several people to scream and run away in a panic. Rangiku looked over and winced, figuring she'd be sent back to deal with that later.

Hopefully, though, it would be later. First she needed to deal with this boy.

She slowly got up and dusted herself off, then helped Toshiro up with her hand, who was currently a blushing mess.

"Hopefully nobody in that carriage is hurt! Now let's go see your sweetheart!" Rangiku winked, making Toshiro blush more.

"She's not my sweetheart! I just cared about her!" He shot back, then started leading her again.

"Now, you asked what I am? Well, I am a Soul Reaper! I'm from the Soul Society, the afterlife. Once you are done here, I will send you there to live! It's a fun place!" She insisted, despite her own childhood growing up in the slums being anything but. "Our job is to find souls here on Earth and either defeat them if they're Hollows, or send them to the afterlife if they're not. It's really intense training to become a Soul Reaper though, and very specific requirements. Not everybody can be one, and almost everybody who goes to the afterlife isn't."

"Sounds intense." He commented.

"Oh, but it's fun too! If you meet all the requirements to become a Soul Reaper, you totally should become one! Maybe we'll be put in the same Squad?" She wondered, finally finishing her candy stick. She reached into the bag around her belt and pulled out a piece of rock candy and studied it, trying to figure out what it was.

"Squads?" Toshiro asked.

"There's thirteen of them in the Soul Society. They all specialize in different things! There's one for healing, for fighting, for scientific research, for the fine arts, everything! And the Soul Reapers there are super nice!" She gushed.

"I don't think I'd have what it takes, but it still sounds interesting. A good way to redo my life over. Nobody there would know anything about my past, which is what I aim for." He held his stomach and looked at Rangiku's candy bag, and she tossed him a few pieces of rock candy, which he gobbled up instantly. "Why am I so hungry? I thought ghosts or whatever I am wouldn't eat, since we wouldn't have a physical body to support anymore. And now I feel another urge too..."

"So, how much longer until we reach Hanako's house?" Rangiku asked nervously, clearly wanting to change that topic.

"Not far now. I recognize this street, we're near the wealthy district." Toshiro responded dully, and sure enough, the road had widened and was cleanly paved, and tall fences stretched all around them to keep bad influences out of manor yards.

"Wow, you were rich!" Rangiku laughed.

"It was a curse." He shrugged. "But if you are that fascinated, I can show you my old bedroom. See, my house is behind this bend." He pointed to a curve in the road, and then to a giant green marble mansion just beyond that.

"How pretty! I want to live there!" She swooned, and he chose to ignore that.

Toshiro quickened his pace, and soon found himself standing on the now-icy porch of his manor, wondering if he should sneak in through a window or just walk in through the front door. Rangiku insisted nobody could see or hear him, but several of his servants were fascinated with the occult and ghosts, and he didn't want to be too careless and get spotted.

"Which window was your room?" Rangiku asked, coming up behind him and startling him. He then pointed to a dark room in the very center of the house, on the fourth floor. She shaded her eyes to look, then picked Toshiro up princess-style and jumped high in front of the window. "Hey, it's open! Lucky lucky!" She tossed him onto the floor of his room, then set her feet down gently behind him on the floor.

"Yes, this is my old bedroom." He stated in a bored tone, looking around for his bedside lamp. He eventually found it and quickly turned the knob on before it froze; soon the room was filled with dim but warm light. "There..."

"What's that smell?" Rangiku instantly demanded, looking at his bookshelf which proudly boasted books from around the world and stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

"It's a kerosene lamp," Toshiro answered simply, then sat on his bed, feeling worn-out from the night's events. His quilt froze, making him jump up in surprise.

"Hm? Never heard of such a thing." She decided, opening up his oak-painted wardrobe.

"Don't look in there!" He raced over and slammed it shut, standing in front of it. "My clothes are in there! Don't pry!"

"A reaction like that just makes me curious!~" She giggled and pushed him out of her way, throwing open the doors once more. "Besides, it's not like you're going to be needing them anytime soon, so why are you so worried?" She dove her hands in deep and came out with a forest-green pantsuit, nearly identical to his current outfit except it had knee-long shorts with it. "What's this for?~"

"...It's a play outfit," He admitted in embarrassment.

"An eighteen-year-old who still plays?~"

"My servants refused to let me grow up, blame them! I'm far too old for many of my outfits or toys!"

"You have toys in here too?!" She discarded the suit on the floor and raced into the opposite corner, finding a plethora of toys there perfect for a young boy: several spinning tops, three sail-boats, a giant wooden rocking horse, a skipping rope, five kites hanging on the wall beside his bed, and countless rubber balls.

"I haven't touched those for nearly a decade! Instead, I spent most of my time reading." He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Seeing how Rangiku was too busy trying to skip-rope, forgetting the fact the rope was too small for her, Toshiro decided to look at his portrait collection, which nearly took up an entire wall behind his dresser. A few pictures he had taken himself, but most were done by servants or professional photographers.

Of course, his favorite was a very simple portrait of Hanako, sitting down in a gilded silver chair in her best kimono and all the fixings; a hair bun, flowers in her hair, but a European touch of silk white gloves covering her hands. She was sitting there with a small smile on her face, her hands neatly folded in her lap.

He picked the portrait up, only to freeze it and drop it in shock, shattering it. "No!" He bent down to pick it up, making Rangiku look over at him in a panic.

"What's wrong?" She asked in a serious tone, wide-eyed.

"That was my favorite picture of Hanako, and now it's ruined..." He spoke in a daze. He looked at his hands, still covered by his gloves. "Stupid ice powers! Is this God's idea of a joke? Give destructive ice powers to a kid who froze to death in the snow? How hilarious, God! I don't want these!"

In a sudden burst of energy, he released a blast of ice from his right hand and coated his bedroom door in sharp ice shaped like daggers.

"Toshiro..." Rangiku sighed. "Please watch your emotions, if you become enraged you could turn into a Hollow!"

"And what if I want to, huh? It would be fitting for the life I lived!" His arms had become coated in ice.

"Your life seems fine to me...just look at your room! All your books and toys!" She ran over to the window. "Besides, we didn't even do what we came here to do. You wanted to see Hanako one last time, correct? Then how about we go do that? I'm sure it'll calm you down." She smiled slightly to help calm him down.

"Fine." The ice on his arms slowly receded. "But I am hungry, so I'm getting something to eat first." Before Rangiku could protest, he had slipped from the room, leaving his tell-tale trail of ice.

Oh, boy. That was a problem. Humans could always see the result of a Shinigami's powers, even if they couldn't see the Shinigami themselves, and a power as strong as Toshiro's would certainly be noticed in a house this huge. She ran after him, worried for his safety. What if her first Reaping ended with the boy being exorcised?! She's never forgive herself!

Toshiro had gone downstairs and made a beeline for the kitchen, which despite the late hour was still kept very warm and snug by the kitchen scullery maid, who was currently asleep in front of the burning coals in the oven. He stared at her slightly, then moved straight towards the ice-box and threw it open, finding several types of dairy products, fluids, and meats cooling in there. Without thinking or looking, he started pulling things out and wolfed them down, wanting his starvation to end.

Rangiku gingerly picked her way down the stairs, avoiding the ice the best she could lest she slipped and create even more of a disturbance. Once she reached the bottom, she heard footsteps approaching her and plastered herself against the wall, holding her breath and waited for the person to pass her.

The creator of the footsteps turned out to be a young maid, holding one of those lamp-thingies Toshiro turned on earlier. Rangiku expected the girl to either turn straight or go up the stairs, but she paused right beside the Shinigami and waved her lamp around, as if looking for something. She sharply turned and shone the light right in Rangiku's face, making her hide her face.

"A GHOST!" The girl screamed loudly, no doubt waking up everyone else in the house. Usually Rangiku would attempt to comfort the poor human who quite drastically found out they could see and communicate with spirits, but it was currently not the time for that. "Don't harm anybody! Go back to Hell!"

"But I'm a good ghost!" Rangiku protested cutely with a pout, then ran off as the maid stared after her in confusion.

She found Toshiro stuffing his face in the kitchen and silently picked him up, making him protest. "Hey! I'm eating!"

"One of your maids spotted me, so we gotta go," She whispered, jumping out the kitchen window and landing softly in the frosty grass.

"I thought you said nobody still alive could see us!" Toshiro said angrily, still upset about being torn from his food.

"Most of them can't, but every so often a human comes along who can communicate with us. They usually end up becoming Soul Reapers once they die, and if a human has a large amount of spiritual energy or powers, it increases the likelihood they'll see us. It's not terribly common though." She explained, walking across the street.

"Could you see them?" He asked softly, making her stop in shock.

"I don't remember..."

"I could always see them, but I never payed much attention to that. The spirits left me alone, and I did them. Only one spirit really mattered to me, and she made a point of visiting me every night," Toshiro explained.

"Hanako?" Rangiku asked, and he nodded.

"The very first night after her death, she came to visit me. I had my window open to cool out my room, and I left to change my clothes. When I came back, there she was, sitting on the windowsill. Needless to say, I nearly died of fright myself that night." His pace slowed, and Rangiku figured he was nearing the cemetery.

"How did she die?" She asked.

"It was a very hot day in June, I will never forget that day. A relative of hers invited us to go swimming at a lake they owned, and we happily agreed. I hated the heat, so I sat in the shade of a tree, but Hanako was walking around and greeting everybody. She wasn't wearing a swim-suit, but was instead wearing a layered bright yellow dress. She even had a parasol with it to keep the sun off her face. She was having a gay time, she even made some lemonade and peach ice-cream for us to share in the shade. She got up to get us more lemonade, but a strong wind suddenly gusted and blew her parasol away into the middle of the lake. Hanako ran after it, and I got up and ran after her, telling her I'd swim after it. But she didn't hear me, I assume, she would never ignore anybody on purpose. It wasn't far from her, I swear it was not far at all, just a few yards away in the water, just a few..." He took a deep breath and finally stopped in front of a black iron fence and a matching gate that was slightly ajar.

"Is this it?" Rangiku asked calmly, and Toshiro nodded and led her inside. "What happened next?"

"She misjudged how deep the lake was, and stepped in too far. She could swim, but her dress was far too heavy, and it ended up pulling her underwater. I tried to go after her, I swear I did, but when I was halfway to her she had already gone under..." Tears welled up in his eyes again, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't blink them away.

"I'm so sorry..." Rangiku held her hands to her chest.

"That first night, there she was on my windowsill, wearing that same yellow dress. Her black hair had come undone from the bun she put it in and it was sticking to her face, she looked like those ghosts she rambled on about from her books. Her face was a bright red, like she was feverish or overheated, and her entire body was soaking wet. She had a long chain coming from her chest, like I do now. But the creepiest part of this story was that-she was happy. She was twirling her parasol in her hands, and she looked up at me as I approached, smiled and said: 'Nathaniel! I found my parasol!'"

After that, he didn't say anything more, and Rangiku wasn't sure if the story was over or if he was too afraid to continue it. He was reading the neatly-kept gravestones now, looking for her name. Rangiku decided to be helpful and searched as well, looking for any stones with the name 'Hanako' on them.

Rangiku was feeling quite freaked out about being in a graveyard, despite being dead herself. She knew there were certain things one didn't mess with, no matter who one was.

She figured Hanako might've been buried near the back of the cemetery, with the servants, despite being nobility because of her foreign status, and sure enough, nestled into a tight corner, was a very nicely-cleaned gravestone made of white marble that was adorned with several small pots of flowers. She ran over to it and knelt down beside it, then motioned over to Toshiro that she had found it.

"Is this it? Her grave?" He asked nervously, and Rangiku nodded.

"See?" She pushed aside some tall flowers and revealed the grey, cursive writing on it: 'Hanako Nagikawa. March 13th, 1885-June 3rd, 1901. Our Beloved Daughter and Little Peach Girl.' Below that was the same message in fancy Japanese, and Toshiro sighed slightly.

"She came to my window for five nights in a row, telling me how much fun being dead was because she had no obligations anymore. She always complained about her hunger, however, and how at night she often snuck into her house and ate out of the servants' pantry." He stood up. "If I pass on, will I see her again?"

Rangiku stood up. "Maybe, but I can't promise anything." She placed a hand on her zanpakuto.

"One night, she simply stopped coming, and I never figured out why. I assume she must've passed on, but why did she not stay for me? I was so lonely...she didn't even say anything about that day..." Toshiro started to walk out of the graveyard.

"She couldn't have, Toshiro! She would've turned into a Hollow!" Rangiku said seriously.

They left the graveyard together and Rangiku noticed the sky was starting to turn a pale grey, meaning the sun was preparing to come up. "Are you ready?" She asked nicely, but Toshiro ignored her and kept walking.

"I'm hungry again." He commented after a few minutes, watching an early-bird running down the street, late for her first job. She was a maid with a basket filled with milk jugs on her shoulders.

"Do you want me to steal more food from your house for you?" Rangiku offered nicely, but Toshiro shook his head.

"If I'm going to pass on, I have one last thing I have to take care of, okay?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Of course! Take your time!"

Toshiro started to leave, but Rangiku followed him closely behind, and at this point, he just allowed it. He kept walking, finally finding a few sparse trees struggling to grow by the side of the road. He darted over to them and went behind one, and Rangiku remained in front of it, leaning against the trunk to give him more privacy. He came out from behind the tree a minute later and started walking again.

"Alright, we can go now." He said calmly. "I didn't know how long the trip would be, and I was already holding it for quite a while...although I have no idea why a ghost would need to relieve itself."

"Maybe because your body is super cold! Doesn't being in the cold make you have to pee more? Or maybe it's just you!" Rangiku teased. Toshiro pulled down the bottom of his coat over his pants nervously.

"I have one final request. When you send me to this Soul Society, could you please make me a child again? I want to reinvent my life, and to fully do that, I must start life over again as a child." He looked down at his feet.

"I don't even know if that's possible...we souls take on the age we were when we died, and if we died as children, we normally age up." She explained sadly, pulling out her zanakuto.

"I want it done. I do not care what the consequences are."

"I can try, but I harbor no promises." She raised her sword up above his head. "Now, this might make you feel nauseous!"

"I don't mind." He smiled slightly.

"See you around,Toshiro." She smiled back, then brought her sword down and split his forehead, finally allowing him to pass on.

"See you, Rangiku." His words were whispered on an icy breeze that hit her face, but instead of being harsh, it felt pleasant and comforting.

After he was gone, she sighed and put her zanpakuto up, then went back to the Soul Society herself. She had something to discuss with her captain...

############

Once Rangiku arrived back at the Soul Society, she was instantly greeted by several of her friends, who all wanted to know how her first Reaping went. Did she succeed? She simply laughed them off and said she did, then pushed through the group and hurried back over to her own Squad, wishing to speak with her captain immediately.

Luckily for her, he was currently in, and she sat down in front of his desk.

"Lieutenant Matsumoto! You look so fine today! How was your first Reaping? Tell me all about it!" Captain Isshin Kurosaki greeted her brightly. She smiled back.

"It went great! I Reaped the soul I was assigned to, and everything went as it should've. He's out there somewhere right now, probably adjusting to his new life as an immortal soul!"

"Perfect! Anything else?"

At this, Rangiku's smile faded and she leaned forward in her seat slightly. "Just between you and me, I think this boy could become a very powerful Soul Reaper despite his young age, one of the strongest we've ever seen. He had limitless control over ice and snow and had an endless and intense hunger."

"Interesting..."

"Indeed. I first thought I'd never see him again, but I have the feeling our paths may cross again someday..."

"Let's worry about that some other day! What do you say to going out and drinking?" Her captain's cheerful exterior suddenly came out again, which instantly brought out her own.

"You know I can't say no to a good drink, Captain Shiba!" She grinned brightly.

##################

Meanwhile, in the much poorer district of Soul Society, a young white-haired boy was currently in the process of peeling himself off the sidewalk. To his amazement, his bones were fully healed, and he could feel blood running through his veins once more. But was there ever a time when he couldn't? He tried to remember, but his memory was fuzzy. He caught his appearance in a nearby puddle and found his face and lips were back to normal colorization, no longer being blue and puffy.

So despite her beliefs, Rangiku's attempt to send Toshiro back to the afterlife as a child did work, and now he could properly redo his life over. Granted, he had no memory of his former life, only recalling his frozen death, but at the moment, that didn't matter.

He sat up and made himself happy by just looking around, wondering where he would stay for the time being.

As Toshiro sat there thinking, a young girl slightly older than him walked up, wearing a simply brown kimono that only went down to her knees. Her hair was tied back in pigtails, and they were black and silky. She smiled at him.

"Hello! Are you new around here? Do you need a place to stay?" She asked kindly. Why did she look so familiar? Toshiro couldn't recall where he met her before, but he sensed kindness in both her aura and in her eyes, so he nodded and stood up. "You can stay with my grandmother and I, we have lots of room!" She grabbed Toshiro's arm and pulled him along happily, ignoring his protests of not wanting to be touched. "Oh, what's your name?"

"It's Toshiro." He said simply.

"What a cute name! My name is Momo!" She smiled.

"...That's a nice name." Where had he heard that before? He remembered it had something to do with peaches...and this girl smelled slightly of them.

"I think we're going to be great friends!" She continued to gush.

"Yes, I think so too." Toshiro agreed, smiling slightly back at her.