Disclaimer: Bleach is owned by Kubo Tite and I'm grateful to hIm for such a wonderful series! This story however is the product of my brain so please don't steal it, I don't write often and what I do write I'd like to keep mine.

-Falconsong/Aurican/Taiki

STILLBORN

'Still born babies have to be one of the most interesting things on the face of this earth...' I contemplated to myself. Perched precariously on the top of a phone pole, the soles of my waraji pressed against the balls of my feet painfully as I shifted minutely to keep my balance in the windy night as I watched the scene unfold below me. I had my hand on the butt of my zanpakutou but I no longer seemed to need the use of her. The reason for this thought to have passed through my head lay on the ground before me. Two reasons to be precise. Two souls lay on the ground. One having comitted itself to death (usually a good path given that the woman had just been hit, and subsiquently killed, by a car) the other, the other was the womans best friend, who had mercifully been spared in the crash.

Maybe I should start from the beginning. My name is rather irrelevant. I'm just a normal shinigami of no real Importance. Not a captain, vice captain, or hell, even a human-turned-shinigami. I've heard the story of one just as that nammed Ichigo. I've also heard rumors of hollow-shinigami now, but gratefully I'm in a quiet district, no real action, and no real threats, save for the occational death in which I'm needed to konsou the soul and send it on to the Soul Society. But there are tImes like this, when things become remarkably interesting. TImes like now when my zanpakutou is not needed and all I can do is watch the unfolding drama. I had arrived here just after the crash had happened. Some fool was driving when he was dog tired and it was the other driver that paid for his mistake of falling asleep at the wheel. Two people had been in the car, two girls around age 25- the driver had been killed instantly, the passenger spared only knocked unconcious.

I was about to jump down and konso the driver, when I noticed something strange. Something I'd only seen once before. The soul of the other girl had left her body and was now wrapping its arms around the soul of the driver, calling her name and cursing at her.

"Damnit! You arent leaving me you idiot! Your too stubborn for that! Get up!" she was shaking the drivers shoulders. Humans are stubborn and headstrong. Even when all is lost they will keep going, keep fighting. I saw the soul chain of the passenger still linked to her body, but the chain to the driver was completely severed. I'd seen it when I arrived, I know I had, but as I looked down, it was there and whole, making me doubt my eyes, making my brain tell me it was never severed in the first place though I knew otherwise. I knew it had been severed, but its hard to beleive something when your eyes tell you otherwise, tell you that it had always been whole. And I knew what would happen afterward.

We shinigami are called "balancers" for good reason. A soul dies in this world, and we konsou it and send it to soul society. When a soul leaves soul society it is reborn here, keeping a balance between the worlds. However, when something disrupts that balance, something we don't control, then the effect is felt. I watch as the girl helps her friend back to the car and back to her body. I know neither girl would remember what happened between their souls, the passenger would dismiss it as an unconcious dream and the driver would tell stories of a dark place before seeing the light again and coming back while the doctors would marvle at the miracle patient that should have died- who was dead for a full five minutes. They will all marvle at the womans strength and will to live, and none of them will be thinking of the woman one floor and three doors down who just delivered a stillborn child- a fetus that would have had a soul come from the soul society had it not been for the woman in a car wreck with such a strong will to live and such a devoted and loving friend.

The wind shifted, pulling on the billowing cloth of my shihakushou and throwing my balance on the telephone pole askew. I give into the pressure of the wind and followed it, leaping from the pole and onto a rooftop. I proceed on a round through the district to see if theres any souls that need my help going to Soul Society and continue to wonder on the stubborness of humans and stillborn fetuses.

Definitions:

-Waraji: The rope sandles the shinigami (and Japanese folk) wear.

-Shinigami: Death god/ Soul reaper (If you don't know this then I wonder why you're reading my fic...)

-Shihakusho: Shinigami robes.

-Zanpakutou: Shinigami's sword

-Konsou: Process using ones zanpakutou to send a soul that won't leave the human world to the Soul Society.

I think that's all the non-english words I used in this fic. If not just comment or email me and I'll fix it. I'm heading to bed now that this fic has stopped bounding around my skull determined to be let out. Please take a short moment to read and review! I love comments and compliments and, yes, even criticisms.