OK, first of all, the very beginning of this story is going to seem very OOC for Hitsugaya, but if you read it, you'll figure out why. Also, this is my first attempt at writing a Bleach fanfic as well as writing a fic in general since I haven't written anything in the past several years. Hopefully it's a good read, and I don't destroy the story too much with my crazy ideas. Also, for those that do not know, this will be an AU fic. Not at first, but as the story progresses, it will be one. Ulquiorra will also feature prominently in the fic as well, but in later chapters.
Frozen Mask:
Forgotten
By Charbonne
Two teal eyes stared out from beneath a crown of white hair. It had been a while since the boy they belonged to had been inside, but unfortunately for the youngster, he had gotten lost. And getting lost in the middle of winter was possibly the worst thing that could have happened. His teeth chattering, he pulled his legs up to his chest, trying to conserve as much heat as possible. It wouldn't be long now, he reasoned. Someone had to come out at some point and check to see where he was. There was no way his okaasan was going to forget that he was out.
A while later, his eyes snapped open. It had gotten warmer for some reason, and maybe with the warmth he could find his way back home. He stood unsteadily, and looked about. Snow covered the ground around the tree he had been sitting at, making the scenery softer and more delicate. He had barely taken a couple of steps when he heard something snap.
Whirling about, the boy's eyes widened as he looked at someone that could be his twin, eyes closed, and possibly sleeping. However, the thing that worried him was that the boy in front of him had a chain that led away, and as he looked at himself, he saw that the chain led straight to him, only it was severed, and the remaining links were attached firmly to something in the middle of his chest. Frantically, he pulled and tugged at the chain that was attached to himself, trying to dislodge it.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he fell to his knees. No matter how much he pulled and tugged at the chain, it wouldn't come off, and any time he yanked at it, a tearing pain ripped throughout his body. Getting desperate, and knowing something was seriously wrong, he grabbed the chain that was on the ground and tried putting the ends back together. He gave up when he realized that no matter what he tried, it wasn't going to work.
The tears that were in his eyes finally broke and ran down his face. He didn't know what happened, but he was fairly certain that the person leaning against the tree was him, and somehow he had come out of his body and... He didn't finish the thought. That would be the same as admitting that he was dead, and there was no way. He could still move around, could still see his breath while it frosted the air in front of him. Besides, it felt warmer, which meant that sooner or later someone was going to come out and try to find him.
It made no sense to him to move from the spot he was in. Someone would come, he reasoned, and take him home. Besides, his obaasan was making sweet natto, and there was no way that he was going to miss the opportunity to have some. He nodded as he sat down beside the 'other boy.' Someone would come, and when they did, he was going to be back at home, warm and safe.
It wasn't much later when his eyes shot open again. It was getting darker, and the boy shivered. It wasn't because of cold, since it felt perfectly warm to the boy, but because of the fact that no one had found him yet. He looked around, and then did a double take. The boy beside him was gone, but what disturbed him greatly was that there was only one set of tracks that led to the body, and one that led away. He got up, suddenly worried that he had been left behind.
He ran, his small feet carrying him through the snow toward where the tracks lead. He fell once or twice, and every time he did, he would resolutely push himself back up and continue to chase the prints. Suddenly a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw smoke in the distance. Almost there! He put in a burst of speed, knowing that soon, he was going to be safe at home.
He pulled up short, however, when he broke through the tree line. There was his village, right in front of him, but what caused him pause was that there was a pyre being erected in the center of the village. Words of denial were already forming on the young boy's lips, and he ran on, tears blinding his vision. There had to be some sort of mistake. Perhaps one of the village elders had passed, and they were making preparations for him or her. That made sense. Especially since he knew that the older members of the village couldn't take the cold as well as the younger ones, and they tended to pass away in their sleep.
That hope came crashing down around him as he saw that there was a small bundle lying near the pyre. Fear gripped at his chest as he realized the face inside of the bundle was his. Blackened with frostbite perhaps, but undeniably his. The chain that was attached to the bundle was also visible, it's broken end taunting the boy. The worst part were the people around. They seemed to neither see nor hear him, and after multiple failed attempts at getting their attention, he ran, away from the pyre and away from the village.
He didn't care low long or how far he ran. He needed to get away from the scene. His legs and chest hurt so much from the exertion, but to the small boy, he didn't feel or care about the sensation. This had to be a dream. No, a very bad nightmare. He couldn't be dead. Being dead meant that he wouldn't be around anymore, right? At least that's what his parents and obaasan told him when his ojiisan passed. He'd gone on to a better place, hadn't he? But the boy was still there. He could still see and hear everything going on around him, still feel the air rushing past him as he ran, still feel the bite of the branches of trees as they slapped across the exposed skin of his face and hands. He wasn't dead.
He tripped then, his arms catching him as his legs went out from under him. He glared at the offending culprit, a root that was sticking out of the ground. If he was dead, he wouldn't be feeling the pain in his leg from the fall, would he? The tears that had been falling returned with a vengeance, angry ones instead of their terrified predecessors. He kicked at the offending root, wishing it hadn't stopped him. The kicking intensified as the boy's frustrations boiled over, and he was kicking repeatedly at the root. Everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong that day, it was all because of the the root. He just knew it.
Finally, exhaustion and grief caused the boy to stop. Lying on his back, he looked up through the trees to the stars above. They were so calm and peaceful, he couldn't help but wonder whether he would end up amongst them or not. He'd always imagined that that was where his ojiisan had gone to, and the wisps of a smile flitted across his face as he thought about the old man. Always patient, always calm, the older man was everything that the young boy had wanted to be. Heck, he had even inherited his unusual eye color from the oldest member of his family, and he couldn't help but wonder if now he would see him again. His hand went to his chest, feeling the chain. Did his ojiisan fall asleep and then awaken to find that he had a chain attached to his chest, too?
There was no doubt about it. The young boy decided right then and there that he was going to find where his grandfather had gone, and perhaps then he could be happy. Besides, there was no way that his family was going to want him around. He wouldn't want him around either, considering that he'd heard from the priest at the temple that wandering spirits brought bad luck with them. And now he was just that, a wandering spirit, with no place to go. Maybe, if he found his ojiisan, he could find the place he was supposed to be, and he would be happy. Just maybe.
Hitsugaya Toshiro looked about the dusty stretch of road. It had been approximately two years since he had frozen to death in the forest near his village, but now the young spirit was on a journey. He had, for the past several months, been searching for the elusive sign that his grandfather, his ojiisan, had traveled anywhere. Unfortunately for him, he soon found out that spirits basically passed without a trace wherever they went. So he strained to even catch the inclination that the older man had gone anywhere.
What had started the search was an event that happened after his death. He stayed around the village where he was born for quite some time. It wasn't that he wished to bring ill luck onto the villagers, but he had a strong desire to see his family, the family he had left behind. He knew that his mother was suffering, becoming thin and despondent, while his grandmother tried everything that she knew to bring her daughter out of the hole she had gotten into. His father spent a lot of time visiting the family grave or just working. It pained Toshiro to see his family so torn up over his death, especially since there was nothing he could do about what had happened.
However, the young spirit was not prepared for his last visit to his family. He never noticed his mother preparing for anything, or his grandmother hurrying about the house cleaning and humming lullabies, or even his father getting an extra skip in his step. Toshiro only peeked in every once in a while, and when he crept into the house one winter day, he was not prepared for the sight that lay before him.
His mother was smiling again, though he could see a bit of sadness in her brown eyes, but that smile was not directed at him. Instead, it was directed at a small bundle in her arms. A small tuft of black hair was immediately evident in the bundle, and as the young spirit peeked at what it contained, he was floored.
A baby! Why had he not noticed what was going on? Why had he not noticed that anything unusual was going on? He backed away, sadness clouding his face. He badly wanted to touch the baby, to even find out what his little brother or sister was called, but he kept his hands firmly to his sides. No, he wasn't going to get depressed over something like this. Besides, it was supposed to be a happy occasion, not something that was tragic.
Toshiro still didn't move from his spot when the door slid open and his obaasan walked in. She smiled at her daughter, wrinkles that had for the past two years been drawn in sadness and worry suddenly emphasizing the expression. "Daughter," his grandmother said, "perhaps you should get some rest. Who knows when he'll wake up tonight, and you haven't slept well since his birth."
"I know," his okaasan replied, "but look, he's got Toshiro's eyes." The smile grew more as the younger woman held the baby out for her mother to see. "Maybe it's Toshiro come back."
The grandmother huffed as she regarded her daughter. "Perhaps," she said, "but you not getting rest is not going to help out. Besides, your husband wanted to spend some time with his new son. Kami knows he hasn't had a chance to since his birth."
"You're right." The younger woman stood, handing the boy over to her mother. "Perhaps I do need rest." With that, the younger woman exited out the door, closing it securely while Toshiro could only watch.
"You know, Toshiro, it's bad manners to stand there and not give a proper greeting." Toshiro jumped about ten feet off the ground and spun around to look at his obaasan. Her kind, brown eyes examined her grandson with a bit of affection, but the look saddened a bit when they met the chain, as well as the hole that had been developing there.
"G-Gomen!" Toshiro bowed deeply to his grandmother, and then his eyes rose to look at her face. "You can see me?"
"Come on over, child. You don't have to bob up and down like a duck in water." His grandmother smiled warmly at her oldest grandchild and gestured over to her side. Toshiro did as she asked, questions already forming on his lips when she brought her hand up to silence the young spirit. "I already know what you are going to ask, and yes, I have seen you about."
"B-but, how?" Toshiro had never seen anyone that had the ability to see spirits before, and now he was wondering why she didn't say anything before. It didn't make sense, especially since she could have spoken to him all this time.
"Perhaps it's due to old age." The old woman chuckled. "Or perhaps it's due to the fact that I may have always been able to see them and just started noticing, who knows." She shook her head, and then made a cooing noise at the baby, which delighted the boy. "All I know is that you've been hanging about when you should have gone on."
Toshiro really looked confused. "Gone on? What do you mean, obaasan?"
"I mean traveled to the afterlife." A sad look came over her face. "You are no longer among the living, and sticking around could bring disaster to the village. It is really a shame that I haven't seen anyone around that could guide you."
"Who's supposed to guide me? Ojiisan? Why haven't I seen anyone else, if someone's supposed to guide me?"
"Ever the inquisitive one. I don't know who is supposed to guide you, only that you need to go on." The old woman tilted her arms up, showing the young spirit the baby. "I know you were interested on seeing him, so this is your little brother, Eiji."
Toshiro looked over at the baby. Chubby cheeks, soft black hair, and a heart-shaped mouth, the most prominent feature was however the teal eyes. The young spirit was shocked to see that like his grandmother, Eiji seemed to be staring straight at him. Toshiro put up a finger and moved it around in front of the baby's face, and Eiji made an attempt to grab at it.
Confused, Toshiro looked over to his obaasan, who smiled. "Babies have the ability to see what most others can't." She explained. "It isn't until you get older that it fades. You also had the ability as well, and would often follow your father's otoosan around. I don't know if you had the sight later, but obviously you have it now."
Toshiro nodded, and the young boy's thoughts drifted to what the meaning behind his prolonged stay in the world of the living was. An even more troubling thought was what would happen if he didn't go on. "Obaasan, otoosan and okaasan don't know that you can see me, do they?" When the old woman shook her head, Toshiro tried to fix a brave expression on his face. Taking his finger away from Eiji, the young spirit bowed to his grandmother. "I guess I have to go then, obaasan. I don't want anything bad to happen to you or anyone else." Trying to fight the tears that were burning under his eyelids, he strode quickly out of the house.
The old woman watched her oldest grandson leave, and to seemingly no one, she whispered, "Good luck, Shiro-chan."
So was this a good start to it all? Just to let you know, constructive criticism is helpful and welcome, while flames will be used to keep me warm during the winter.
