A/N: Wow, guys, you'll have to bear with me because evidently my writing moves at about the same pace as a snail marathon. Ehehe. (dodges brickbats and bowls of hot-sauce-flavored sherbert) Still, much love to Princess Berry, RedBloodedTalisman, Purple1, Ryukansen, SilverGhostKitsune, l33t AvengerBlossom, and Newind (also, for not making me eat that awful concoction :P ) for reviewing my first fic! You guys/gals are muchos awesomeos and encourage me to keep trying to write this fic. Thanks so much!

Aaanyways, chapters two and three are up at last. Still gotta work on pacing– hopefully the upcoming chapters will start moving a bit faster. Enjoy!

(ducks out before she is killed for her awful n00b Spanglish-- and writing)

Disclaimer: Series and characters aren't mine, they're Kubotite's. Yes, I do cry myself to sleep at night... but only occasionally.


Limitations

Chapter 2: A Mysterious Enemy


A light glimmered briefly beyond what looked like a solid line of maples. Behind the trees, completely cloaked by the night, lines of deep purple and black swirled soundlessly to form a barrier around the clearing within. The space inside was dimly lit, like a room with a broken lamp. There, two figures stood alert as if on guard. Rather than casting light over their faces, the dull cast of the room seemed to actually draw the shadows up from underneath them.

"It's her," spoke a soft, childish voice from one, as her glowing eyes rotated back from the forest.

"Who's her?" drawled the other figure.

Out of the pitch black came a small -pop!- . Something fizzled, and then above them, tiny, sticky tendrils of yellow light crept down to form a cage along the barrier's insides, like a dripping spiderweb.

This brighter light revealed two faces. One was smirking, with angular features and a pointed jaw; they seemed to belong to a boy of around nineteen. His hard, yellow hair covered his head in a jagged fringe, cut straight through the center by a sharp black lock. He wore a yellow-and-black bodysuit to match, with a bold white zipper slicing diagonally down the front like a streak of lightning across a dark sky.

The other face was small, round and babylike, belonging to a girl who looked about ten. She had rounded, silvery white hair that hung thickly around her head and obscured all but her ice-blue, glowing eyes. She had masked any trace of her lips and nose behind the tall white collar of her dress, but it was easy to imagine a petite mouth to match that china-fragile voice.

"Who exactly is her, Nina?" repeated the yellow-haired boy irritably.

"My shinigami," the girl nearly whispered. "My... Kuchiki Rukia."

Her younger companion didn't look impressed. "That's yours? Whatever. She looks like a shrimp to me. Oh well, not like mine is any better." He briefly pictured the short shinigami with the freakishly white hair that he'd selected. Hitsu-something Toushiro. The thought made him even more impatient.

"...When is Zhelyazko gonna get his skinny arse over here, anyways? He sure is taking his time."

"Patience, Dragomir."

There was a barely audible whoosh and suddenly what looked like a tall black plant sprouted up in front of them. However, as the shape unfolded to reveal legs and arms, it was obvious that this was no plant, but a shockingly tall, slender man.

"Privyet," uttered the young man carelessly.

"Privyet," the tall man responded without warmth. "And hello, my little Ninochka."

The white dressed girl curtsied silently.

"Zhelyazko, they're here," burst out the one called Dragomir. "What are you waiting for? We could fight them right now!"

"Don't be a fool," said the tall man roughly. "Or did you want to fight all six of them at once?"

"Well, what other plan do you have?"

Zhelyazko half-smirked. "I've sent out our little bird, to scout out the shinigami and their human friends. And Anton will know their plans, of course."

"And? What then?" Dragomir's eyes seemed to glow with their own intensity, and his fists clenched. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt that rush of adrenaline that came from a good fight. The older man sighed in mock exasperation.

"There really is no quenching your bloodlust, is there, Dragomir?" He withdrew sticklike fingers from his forehead. "Very well. You shall fight first. Just don't expect any other of the Shesta to help you."

Dragomir grinned, electricity crackling from his fists. "Like I need your help. Just watch me." He spread out his arms, and a net of yellow light shot out across the ground on all sides. "You'll all be jealous when I get my shinigami first."


Hitsugaya Toushiro shivered and sat up in bed. Which was odd, because a guy who knew ice backwards and forwards like him had no reason to shiver. He reached out for Hyourinmaru, which was lying sheathed under his pillow; the cool, leather-wrapped hilt was a comfort to his hands.

The white haired boy swung over and hit the bedlight next to his low bunk. He had wisely opted for the bottom level, after Ikkaku-san and that moron, Keigo, had gotten into a fistfight over who would sleep up top.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. As if such things even mattered when they were supposed to be on alert for the Arrancar.

For some reason, he decided to open the window and stick his head out. Just earlier, some weird touch had tugged on his senses. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have woken up otherwise. But the sensation had faded, and wasn't coming back.

He stared around at the campgrounds. Nothing but picnic tables... dead leaves... more picnic tables. Nothing that looked remotely like a terror in the night.

Still, that feeling that something was very wrong, wouldn't go away.

He shut his eyes. Damn Aizen for making him so paranoid! The former Hitsugaya would be in bed sleeping, instead of wasting his time to worry over some night scare. What was he anyways, some kind of child who was afraid of the dark? Tch.

Still, when Hitsugaya went back to sleep ten minutes later, he left one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.


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Verrrry short prelude chapter to the fight ahead. :D