A/N: This takes place 15 years after the Winter War. Ichimaru Gin has been allowed back his position as 3rd division's captain, after many years of working as a regular low-level shinigami to gain the others' trust back (anyway he had already fought well in the Winter War, helping to bring about the defeat of Aizen). Kurosaki Ichigo is no longer a human and made the decision to become a full-time shinigami. He and Rukia have yet to realize their feelings for each other.

Something old is awakening in the deep forests of Soul Society.

Enjoy!!

-

Chapter 1: The Cold Things Raise Their Faces

The forest whispered hidden windy thoughts as three hooded shapes pattered through its dark depths.

The three shapes were all clothed in smoky blue and white, and similar masks covered their faces. The masks were all in the shapes of birds' heads.

The first, a tall and well-built female, wore a mask of a barn owl. The black hollow pits that were eyeholes stood out, stark with contrast, from the rest of the mask. Something glimmered in those twin pits, something quiet and sly. A white scythe, pure and beautiful, was slung across her back.

The second was small and quick on its feet. It could not be seen whether it was a male or a female; it looked like a child, young and energetic. Its mask was in the shape of a finch, small round eyeholes giving of the air of something innocent and naive. It clenched two curved daggers in its little hands.

The third was not so tall, but with a strong male body nonetheless. His mask was that of a white raven, and the eyeholes shone with red light, clear in the darkness of the forest. His robes were the longest and they clung to the loam and rustling leaves as he swept along, blue-white patterns intricate around his cloak. He carried no visible weapon.

They stopped. The leaves rushed around them, creating miniature tornadoes and swirling up above through the black fingers of the trees. The wind rose, and fragments of ice and snow wafted slowly past the three figures.

One in particular twinkled with a lovely air, but the third figure reached out and deftly crushed it between cruel fingers. He looked at the remnants and raised his head, a whispery voice lacing bitterly through the cold frostbitten air.

"He is close."

"Indeed," breathed the first.

The second shivered and shuffled its feet. "Soon... Soon he will be with us."

"Yes."

The third narrowed his red eyes. "Whether he likes it or not, of course."

Then raised his cruel beak and called a raven's haunting call.

-

Hitsugaya Toushirou, captain of Tenth Division and wielder of the strongest ice zanpakutou, shunpoed quickly from tree to tree, bright turquoise eyes alert and shining. One who did not know him would think he was some odd kind of child dressed as a captain, but saying that to his face would result in either an icy reply, silence, or a lifetime frozen in a lump of ice.

Hitsugaya was not one to be trifled with.

His eyes slid from side to side, white hair sweeping back with the force of the wind. He felt something strange close by; a reiatsu that was nothing like he had ever felt before.

It was still distant; he had time to try and decipher it. Neither a hollow, nor a shinigami... Not a simple soul, either. Something deeper, and older, and stronger. And the strangest of all was that he felt a faint tug of familiarity from it.

Hyourinmaru stirred and raised his head. Indeed, the familiarity was something to do with his element of ice, for the reiatsu was very cold and frostbitten. Similar to his, in fact. But there was something still wrong with it...

All of a sudden, the reiatsu was below him.

Zanpakutou out in an instant, he leapt to the tree behind him in a flash, blade out and ready. Nothing came at him; he peered below, eyes narrowed in anticipation of an attack that did not come.

Three white figures watched him from below.

Hitsugaya lowered his sword. "Who are you?" he demanded, white hair prickling from the force of their reiatsu.

They stayed eerily silent.

He gripped his zanpakutou tighter. "What do you want?"

The first figure stepped forward.

"Nothing," she called. "We simply want you."

Then they were around him on the same branch, clawed hands reaching to grasp him.

-

"Ichigo! You idiot! What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to fight a hollow, Rukia! Now shut up, you're distracting me!"

"I will not shut up! If you're captain-level, why is it taking you so long to defeat this one meager hollow?!"

He growled, irritated, and swept Zangetsu through the hollow's midsection, watching it flicker and flutter away into dust.

He turned back to Rukia, a scowl on his face.

"See, if you would just shut up for a second-"

BAM

"Ugh, Rukia! Ow! Geez, you don't have to-"

"Bakamono! You should be able to fight good and proper even with noise and distractions around you!"

Ichigo growled again, but let her win and did not retort back. He almost smirked; something inside him always wanted to give way and let her win, in the same way that he could never hit her even if she punched and kicked him multiple times.

And anyway, she was right most of the time.

"We should head back to Seireitei."

She nodded briskly. "Yes, we should. Come on, Ichigo!"

Ichigo was no longer a substitute shinigami; he had become a regular shinigami after the Winter War, and though the decision had been a difficult one, he knew he would be able to visit his family and friends occasionally and that laid most of his worries at rest.

At the moment, he was not part of any division. Rukia had pressed upon him many times to become a captain (fifth division and ninth division were still captainless; Ichimaru Gin had made a return to his position as captain of third division), or at least a lieutenant. But Ichigo had felt like he was not yet part of the Gotei 13; he was still the shinigami substitute, and he was only here for a visit.

It would take him some time to get used to the idea. Perhaps never. He couldn't really see himself as a captain, or even a lieutenant.

So until then, he would wander wherever Rukia went, and be as much help as he could be to the Gotei 13. Things were peaceful since it was only 15 years since the end of the Winter War; with Aizen defeated, everything had settled down significantly.

And surely all of Soul Society was glad for this.

But having all this captain stuff on his mind had been taxing on his concentration, hence the time it would take to defeat a simple hollow.

They walked side by side through the forest and cliffs near Seireitei. There was still a ways to go until they reached the gate, so Ichigo thought it to be a good time to explain his recent lack of success.

"Hey, Rukia..."

"What?"

"You know, about the hollow back there... I mean, how I'm not fighting really well lately..."

At this, she looked at him curiously, tilting her head. He scratched his head uneasily and continued.

"Well, truth is, I've been having lots on my mind... and stuff... Like, with the whole 'you should become a captain' deal. I don't know... I don't think... I'm not really the captain-type, am I?... I mean... I'd much rather... just go around and help where I can, in any division... and I'd like to be able to go back to the Human World often, to check on things... I just..."

He watched the ground, waiting for her to shout and stamp and berate him for being a coward and a weakling. He deserved it, really.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo."

He looked up in surprise. "What?..."

She met his eyes with a level gaze. "I've been pushing you towards becoming a captain, haven't I? I suppose... I was pressuring you too much." She smiled suddenly. "If you don't want to become one, that's fine. If you decided it for yourself, then isn't that a good thing?"

Ichigo's eyes lit up from the familiarity of the meaning of those words. He grinned.

"That's my line, Rukia."

-

Hitsugaya ducked and rolled out from the hands just in time; they grasped nothing, and he pelted away, shunpoeing as fast as he could through the trees. Any other time he would have stayed and fought, but these three...

There was something horribly wrong. He had to go warn the Gotei 13; he could sense the dark foreboding, stormy seas and lunging shapes that brought shadows of worry to his thoughts.

A white hand came out in front of him, ready to grasp his face.

He gasped and flung his blade at it. The hand caught it, and he came face to face with a white finch mask, eyeholes black and empty.

-

A/N: Heheh, cliffhanger! :P I hope to write the next chapter as soon as I can. It might take a while, though; school is busy for me.