It was an well accepted truth that all shinigami had a companion soul in their zanpakuto, the spirit that would aid them in their times of greatest need, but none of them ever believed that the bond could go both ways. No one truly knew the origins of these spirits, and though the common theory was that they had developed from the souls of their hosts, representing their true powers and desires, it was never actually confirmed. Zanpakuto spirits just were, a simple fact of life that no one protested.

The bond between wielder and spirit was another one of these unquestioned assumptions. Some people just seemed to have a better connection to their spirits, some of them could barely stand each other... either way, it was never put under much scrutiny. However, if anyone had ever thought to look, only a little bit deeper into the true origins of the spirits, they would have been truly surprised at what they found...

Ukitake Jushiro:

For the young captain of the 13th Division, being forced out of commission due to illness was something that was depressingly familiar. Despite the best efforts of the entire 4th division, no one could find any reason for the illness that continuously caused his own body to rebel against him. Still, he had had time to accept the inconvenience and, though it had aggravated him at the start, he was now able to see the small, silver lining of his position.

Where as many of the shinigami around him rushed through their lives, living from one fight to the next, Jushiro was able to take a step back now and then, to take a break from the normal rush of the gotei 13 and, even though these breaks normally occurred within the confines of his personal rooms, they had taught him to appreciate the more docile things in life. Like dreams for instance.

Ever since he could remember, the young shinigami had been able to tell when he was dreaming. There was always a faint twinge in the back of his mind that told him what he was seeing was all just fictional. It had been the absence of this instinctual warning that had first alerted him to the true nature of the dreams he had had in regards to his Zanpakuto before he was found by the Captain Commander, and it was this that also informed him that there was something not quite right about his present situation.

Yet another relapse had seen the young captain confined to his rooms once again, but now he found himself in the middle of a dense forest, surrounded by trees that looked far older than any he had seen in soul society. They seemed to hold a strange energy too, one that existed on the very edges of his sensory range, not quite reiatsu but similar... it was definitely intriguing.

Above him, nested in the loft boughs, he could just make out the cheerful sound of bird song, a chorus so similar, but still subtly different to the ones back home. Despite this, the small clearing in which he found himself held an aura of peace that seemed to seep into his very being. It was oddly soothing, and he would have been quite content to remain there, soaking in the atmosphere for a good deal longer had it not been for the soft sounds of a wounded animal that seemed to shatter the stillness, despite their deceptively low volume.

Always the one to jump straight to compassion, a trait his old superiors were often quick to criticise but that he maintained anyway, Jushiro began to make his way towards the origin of the sound, though he took great care to ensure that his presence remained undetected by anyone who might have been watching.

A few steps closer to the origins of the noise, and it became clear that what he had first thought to be the distressed whimpers of a wounded animal, were actually the small, heart wrenching sobs of a child, and it was enough to pull a small frown onto his normally compassionate face even as his pace quickened slightly. In his time in the gotei 13, he had heard the sound of bereavement often enough to be able to recognise it when it was before him, but it was never an emotion that he would have wished upon a child.

Coming to the edge of the tree line, the white haired man paused in the shadows, wanting to take in the situation before making his presence known, though what he saw confused him.

Obviously, the path he had taken must have had an unnoticed incline as he found himself coming to the crest of a hill, one which gave quite a spectacular view of a small village down bellow, though the sight only held his attention for a brief second. Instead, his eyes were drawn to an oddly shaped rock that had been mounted on a pedestal with neat columns of what looked to be names carved into its surface... and there, at the base of this monument, was the hunched over form of a child.

The boy, for the frame was not slender enough to belong to a girl that age, was curled into himself, leaning forwards towards the stone with his arms tightly wound around his own chest as though to hold himself together. Although it was difficult to tell from behind, and his crouched over state was not helping at all, Jushiro guessed that the boy was quite short, though what surprised him was the shock of unruly silver hair that the crown of his head. It was unusual to find someone so young with such a distinctive colour, and it only served to pique his interest further. Before he knew it, his curiosity had overrun his caution and he found himself speaking.

"What makes you so sad, child, that you weep as though your heart is breaking?"

The reaction to his words was as immediate as it was violent. The child span round whilst managing to shift his countenance from pained defeat to aggression in the space of the movement. One hand drifted down to the pouch on his thigh in an almost unconscious movement, while the other moved in front of his face to form some form of gesture using two of his fingers. All in all, it was a rather impressive reaction for a child, and Jushiro would have applauded him for his weariness if he had not been caught by the crushing pain visible in the single, obsidian eye.

He had seen guilt before, it had always been a presence in the shinigami corps, haunting the eyes of officers who had been just that split second too late, or that one wit too slow in their plans, but never had he seen such a quantity in a mere child (and from checking the boy's soul he could tell that he was definitely a child, barely more than a decade old). For a long second, he was caught in this world weary gaze, and it was all he could do not to go and pull the child to him in silent comfort.

He knew that he was staring, but it wasn't until the boy barked out a short question that came across as more of an order to identify himself, before he was able to bring himself to look away. With a sigh, he shifted to lean back against one of the trunks behind him, hoping that his relaxed pose would help to put the boy at ease.

"Who I am doesn't matter, and it is rude to answer a question with another question Shiro-kun."

He knew that the nickname would quite probably only annoy the boy further, but at that present moment, he really didn't care. Anything would be better than that dull spark of despondence and grief hidden in the child's eyes, even if it meant that he would be attacked.

For a long moment, the boy merely stared at him, seemingly sizing him up as an apponent, and the 13th captain worked hard to keep his presence as unthreatening as possible, making sure to keep his body lax even tough he desperately wanted to tense up. However, the boy evidently judged him not to be an enemy and soon turned back to the stone, the movement slow and deliberate in a way that was obviously meant to be a dismissal. Still, Jushiro remained where he was and the two of them proceeded to ignore each other for a good while.

As time stretched on, the shinigami continued to inspect the boy, noting that he seemed to share the same energy that he could feel in the trees, rushing through the bark against his shoulders, and it really did serve to intrigue him, but time as an officer had taught him the value of patients and he was able to hold his tongue, even as he continued with his assessment.

He had not registered it before, being so caught up in the moment, but the way the boy moved appeared strange, slightly stiff in a way that bespoke some deeper injury that those he could see covered by the bandages on his arms, (the only bit of bear skin he could see), half of his face and one eye were even covered by the thin gauze. Thinking back on the immediate defensive reflex and adding the knowledge of injuries, the brief thought that the boy could have been abused flashed through his mind, but he soon squashed that idea. The boy had been too confident when he spoke for that to have been the case.

Even as the time dragged on an the sun moved across the sky, the countenance of the boy seemed to change, and the child seemed to retreat in on himself. He did not begin to cry again, and it was obvious that he was still, on some level, aware of the shinigami's presence, but he had soon lost himself to his thoughts again and the heavy mood returned.

For 2 hours Jushiro remained where he was, barely moving as he watched the child shrink down before the stone, looking for everyone to see like the world was resting on his shoulders, and that the weight was practically crushing him. Eventually, even Jushiro's hard won patience ran out, and he moved forwards to seat himself beside the boy. The child merely glanced at him for a second, but did not flinch away, he took this for a good sign.

"You know... heavy thoughts can crush a man if he tries to deal with them alone and even a great monument needs support to keep it standing tall. It is not a weakness to go to those who love you for help."

That comment garnered him a glare and not much else, but the white haired captain wasn't discouraged. The boy's ire was lighter than his grief at least, and it helped that, when the silence did return, it seemed a little more contemplative, and a little less crushing. Deigning that it would probably be counter-productive to keep pushing the boy when he so clearly did not want to talk, Jushiro allowed himself to fall back to his thoughts, though he consciously began to emit soothing waves of rieatsu in an imitation of what he had seen Unohana do for disorientated patients. He had never done it before, and he had no idea if he was even doing it right, but little by little, the boy seemed to relax at his side and he allowed himself a small grin, happy to be a sense of comfort, even if there was very little else he could do.

A few more hours passed in this manner, with the two of them just sitting together in an altogether more comfortable silence, and the white haired shinigami had allowed himself to fall into a doze. He had not really expected the child to speak, so when he did, the captain was caught entirely off guard and he almost missed the softly spoken comment, the words firm as a promise despite the whispered tone.

"Those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash. Rin!"

It took a moment for the words to actually process, and by the time the shinigami looked across to where his silent companion had been sitting, he was greeted with nothing but empty space and a small gust of wind. It didn't take long after that, for the bemused captain to find himself waking up in his fuuton, exactly where he had been before the dream- that- was- not- a- dream had begun. It had been an oddly abrupt ending to a strange scenario.

Although he had no idea who the boy could be, and he highly doubted that he would ever find out, the young Captain was not able to stop thinking about him for a long time after the meeting. The sheer agony he had seen in the boy's body language was enough to keep him guessing at the cause, though in the end he had no way of knowing. Instead, he merely hoped that he had been able to offer some form of comfort, though he really hadn't done much.

In the end, thoughts of the boy faded, pushed out by the duties of a captain as he slowly adapted to the post, and hidden by the worries of his day to day life, but he was never gone completely, always there on the very edges of his awareness. And if, the next time he went to speak to Sogyo no Kotowari, their communication seemed to be a little faster, a little more instinctual that it was before... well, how was he to make the connection?

A/N: There, I hope you enjoyed this little plot bunny that has been kicking around in my head for months, and has actually been making it hard to concentrate on anything else...

IMPORTANT: these are just ideas that I might develop into a full story at a late point if there is any interest, but please bear in mind that these are only snippets of events. Thank you.

I don't know if I am going to leave this as a one shot, or if I will do some of the other characters (I have some ideas) but if you want to see more, or have an idea for one of the pairs, feel free to make a suggestion!

Anyway, its the first of this kind that I have ever written, so... thoughts?

Thanks for reading,

Ella