A/N: Ohayo, minna-san! This is Cebad2710 speaking and this is my second fanfic! I hope everyone will enjoy reading this story:) anyways, this was based on an idea by ZoeyExtreme so I really have to thank her for that! Honto ni, arigato gozaimashita!

This may be a bit angsty at first, but I promise it will get better! (If you don't like Angst that is)

I am sorry about my grammar and vocabulary mistakes if there's any. I am not very talented in that prospect.

Disclaimer: I DONOT own Bleach or Twilight.

Red liquid dripped down the side of his face, obscuring his vision. Clenching his teeth, he blinked it out of his eye, not wanting to remove his hands from the cold handle of his blade. The sound of ice shattering from above told him that another of his ice flowers had faded into nothingness.

Around him, he could hear the sound of swords clashing, the yells of his Division members as they were struck down. Kuso…

He had just received the reports of the rogue shinigami a few days ago, and the mission was to kill those that were situated in West Rukongai. He led a team over with the thought of ending it quickly.

What awaited them was far far beyond the imagination of the young taicho. The rogue shinigami were all insanely powerful. Some even had power that rivaled the captain's. Where they got that power, he never had the faintest idea.

The man in front of him grinned maniacally, eyes dancing with the flames of madness. It was as if the multiple near-fatal wounds on his body worth nothing at all.

"Doshita, chibi-taicho? Is this all you have got?" the man cackled as he lunged at him, sword swinging in quick succession. He parried each blow, but was driven back a few inches every time their swords came into contact.

Teme…he thought angrily. He could feel his power leaving him. He was soon to be done for.

A quick glance around him showed a field of bodies, belonging to both sides of this fight. There were only a few who were still standing, among them was his lieutenant, her zanpaktou swirling around her and barely standing.

Her opponent fell with the final strike of her dust-like zanpaktou. However, she was in no better shape.

She turned and looked straight into his teal orbs with her own sky-blue ones as her knees finally gave way. Her eyes were not sad, they were filled with determination. Win, she mouthed. Win for the Division, taicho. She smiled gently at him, her eyes closed and she fell limp.

No…Matsumoto… "MATSUMOTO!" With another angry yell, he lunged at the man that was still cackling away like the mad man he was. Rage filled his thoughts as he delivered blow after blow, sent ice dragons after ice dragons at the rogue shinigami.

He cannot lose, for the sake of the safety of Soul Society, for the sake of his Division and for the sake of his lieutenant…Rangiku. He cannot lose.

"I WON'T LOSE!" another angered cry escaped his lips as he leaped forward for the final killing blow, his zanpaktou raised high above his head.

"Nani—!" the man tried to dodge the merciless shining blade aimed for his throat, but it was too late, ice encased his body and he breathed his last frozen breath.

Panting, he landed.

His blood-stained ice wings shattered into a million tiny pieces. He stumbled a few steps before excruciating pain racked his small frame as the strain of keeping up his bankai far beyond its limit finally caught up with him.

He was too tired to scream, and far too tired to hang on to the cliff of consciousness.

His knees buckled and his vision blurred. All he could see was dull patches of colors dancing around. One of the patches of colors, however, was glowing a brilliant white. Subconsciously, he stretched his small pale hand towards it. Then his eye lids closed, shutting him off from the rest of the world.

Someone else's POV

What is this scent? He hoped that this scent was not what he thought it was. It would be horrifying if this amount of it was exposed.

Following the familiar scent, he went deeper into the trees and pushed apart the bushes that were the last obstacle to his destination. The sight that greeted him was shocking.

Lying in the middle of that small patch of grass was a little boy that looked barely twelve. His snow white hair was dirty and matted with dirt and mud. He looked Asian and was wearing black traditional—not to forget torn and tattered—Japanese clothing.

But that wasn't what that shocked him.

It was the state the boy was in. every inch of the boy's tiny body was covered in cuts. Some of them were deep and long; the horizontal slash across the boy's chest looked fatal. The wounds were new, he could tell, some of them were still glistening with fresh blood.

What on earth happened to this poor child? Was his only thought as he knelt down hurriedly, ready to do anything to save this poor child if he was still breathing.

However, he stopped in surprise when he heard the steady thumping of a strong heart in the boy's chest. Now that he finally got over the initial shock of seeing a young child this injured, he noticed the sure signs of a living person.

Despite the heavy injuries, the boy's breathing was steady, if not a little shallow. He frowned. This is strange indeed… something about this child—not just the fact that he smelt like freshly-fallen snow with a musty tinge—told him that he wasn't normal.

Without a second thought, he carried the unconscious child into his house that was just near-by.

There you have the prologue! Hope everyone enjoyed it despite the pretty lame fight scene (to me that is)! See ya guys in da next chappie~!

Extra Note: A Ferrero Roche (cause I'm eating one now) to whoever guessed correctly from whose POV this chapter is written from!

Please review! (The amount of reviews I get shall determine if I continue the story!)

Arigato!