Summary: From Rukongai to the Academy, to the Gotei 13 to a Seat, to Bankai and Captaincy. A genius, a prodigy, an embodiment of a Heavenly Guardian, wielder of the strongest ice-snow zanpakutō in Soul Society. He is Hitsugaya Tōshirō.

Disclaimer (for the whole story): I do not own Bleach.

Prologue

I dream about an ice field. I can feel the ice. I can hear a voice. Like thunder, it resounds far away. Like a flower, it brushes against my hand.

In a field of green, the speck of white was hard to miss. A pale child with snowy white hair, dressed simply in coarse blue cloth, laid back and contemplated the mysteries of the universe.

"Winter is always pleasantly cool, though Granny can't stand it, but Summer is the season of watermelons…" he pondered aloud. The serious question of which season he preferred best had plagued him for days and it seemed like he would not be getting an answer today either.

The sun was starting to set when he finally got up from where he lay to begin the trek back home. Dinner was a very important meal not to miss when you were a perpetually hungry child. On the way back, the strange glances and even despising gazes that were part of his usual days were 3ignored. The strange child they called him, with hair of snow and eyes looking like they saw and knew too much. The strange child they called him, and they thought themselves polite to address him as such because there were so much more insulting and rude names they could have used.

"I'm home, Granny!" he called out, only to find his caretaker replaced by another familiar figure. "Shiro-chan~!" Bed-wetter Momo exclaimed before rushing over to hug him. "It's been so long! Eh, you haven't grown at all Shiro-chan! How am I supposed to say "You've grown so much" now?"

The jibe about his height was completely unwelcome. "Shut up, Bed-wetter Momo!" his own face going red, "What are you doing back home anyway!" but his smile could not be hidden.

"Oh Toushirou, I've graduated!" She burst out. "You've graduated?" he repeated in question. "I thought training at the Academy lasted for six years. It's only been four."

"I know! That's the good thing! I manage to graduate early, near the top of the graduating class and they assigned me to Aizen-taichou's division!"

He frowned, "Isn't it going to be dangerous for you now that you're actually a shinigami?"

"I'm trained now Shiro-chan," Hinamori stressed, puffing out her chest with pride. "I'm going to be the best shinigami I can be to help Aizen-taichou in whatever way I can!"

"Again with the Aizen-taichou," he grumbled. "I can't see what's so great about him anyway."

"Oh that's because you haven't met him! I'm sure you'd be filled with awe if you do! He's so cool, and really nice." Anything else she could possibly say on the subject of Aizen was halted by the emergence of their Granny from the kitchen. "Okay kids, come in and help me serve the food."

Dinner passed by pleasantly enough as Hinamori regaled them with tales of her time in the Academy and what she would be doing from now onwards. The latter part only served to worry him and she dismissed his complaints easily, emphasizing on the training she had completed. "And if anything goes wrong, our superiors and colleagues will step in to help."

"Take care of yourself, Momo." Granny said with her gentle smile.

"I will!" she laughed, and patted him on the head. "Don't miss me Shiro-chan!"

"I won't," he grumbled, swatting her hand away with a disgruntled expression on his face.

"Bye for now! I'll be back to visit soon!"

He knew she wouldn't be. The visits had gotten less often over the years, until the last time he saw her before this was a year ago. Her hair was longer, Granny was skinnier and the leaves of trees changed colour and fell off their branches. Time was passing by, and he hadn't grown at all, and he felt like everything was changing around him while he stood there as the only constant.

He wouldn't say that he missed her, but even after she was long gone, he was still sitting there at the doorway, trying to see someone far gone now.

I can hear a voice. So loud it could crush me, so deafening it could swallow me. But I can never hear what it says.

It was another five years later before anything changed for him. Bed-wetter Momo came and went just twice in that time, and he missed her more and more with each day that she didn't visit. But he didn't do anything, and she didn't come, and the days were lonely with only Granny for company and the village ostracizing him as always.

I can hear a voice. It's always there when I close my eyes, and time passes so slowly that some days it feels like the only thing that speaks to me.

He didn't grow at all, and he was starting to think the villagers were right. He was a child who stopped aging a long time ago, with the exception of his hair, which turned white over the passing of years. Or an eternal child born from a vengeful demon, a soul destined to turn into a monster or end up in Hell. Or a child of ice whose age froze along with everything else he ever had, feelings, emotions. Cold-hearted, cold-blooded. Granny wouldn't hear of such thoughts from him - he didn't want a spanking either - and Hinamori wasn't around, and so he was left alone to his own thoughts. There was little entertainment in the village other than spinning tops, and the kids wouldn't play that with him anymore after the millionth time he kicked their asses in it. And Hinamori, his defender and protector against the immature jibes from the kids, wasn't around now either.

It was summer again, and he could feel his annoyance climb as the sun beat down harshly and sweat stuck his clothes to his skin. The question of which was the best season had been decided a long time ago and it was not summer. The season was about to end but the weather was as hot as ever.

"Granny, I'm gonna go get some amanattou! We're all out right?" The sugared treat would probably help him feel better about this horrid weather; and help him forget that yesterday, Hinamori had sent word she would come but never appeared.

I can hear a voice. Like a never-ending winter. I can hear a voice.

That had been a bad decision. He massaged his aching head from where it smashed into the shopkeeper's counter by the power of that crazy lady's breasts. Thankfully he hadn't dropped his change.

Later that night, the crazy lady appeared again. Out of nowhere, and told him he needed to be a shinigami or he'd end up killing his Granny. The whole event felt surreal by the next morning, and he almost thought it was a dream.

But he knew what his dreams were always about.

I can hear a voice.

And Granny understood. "I'm glad," and she smiled. "You've been holding it in all this time haven't you? You thought your Grams would get lonely if you left her by herself. You've been holding something in because you were thinking of me. But for your Grams, that is the most painful thing of all."

He cried in her arms, and the crazy lady pretended she didn't see his tears and snot from outside where she was still waiting to take him to the Academy.

"Well come on then! The Academy year has already started so you're late as it is!"

He was actually going to the Academy where Hinamori spent four years of her life five years ago. Walking towards that white-walled city where Hinamori was.

I can hear a voice. It calls out to me, and never stops calling. It is the last thing I think about before falling asleep, and the first thing I think about when I awaken.

He clenched his fist. Finally, he was doing something. The boy who always stood still while the world changed, was finally moving.

And the voice in him that always roared, words he could never hear, and never stopped its circling and pacing in frustration, roared louder than ever that morning he set off.

I can hear a voice. Like thunder, it resounds far away. Like a flower, it brushes against my hand. I have decided to look for it, and to press on…

"Hey, what's your name kid?" the crazy lady asked.

even if I die on this ice field.

"I am Hitsugaya Tōshirō."

~end.