A/N: Yes! Finally got around to finish this chapter! Got the accursed Writer's Block somewhere in the middle and coupled with procrastination, you get the end result of really late updates…argh! (Don't kill me)
Anyways, thanks so much for your reviews guys! I really appreciate them! And I took up the suggestion of setting it in Eclipse (courtesy of alex culten and brad). Though depending on my mood, I might continue on to Breaking Dawn. But if not, I'll just end it in Eclipse.
Answer to reviews:
thefarmguy: I think it must have been the last part of chapter 2 that got you confused. Well the Cullens don't actually have to understand what was being said…so…yeah. Sorry for the confusion caused!
"Japanese."
"English, or the native language of the place/characters."
Disclaimer: I DONOT own Bleach or Twilight
"Unlock," he said clearly. Then, he turned the blade clock-wise, very much like how you would turn a key.
Instead of opening a Senkaimon, however, Toushiro found his blade stuck. It refused to just complete the one round that would open the passage back home for Toushiro.
…Shimata.
Toushiro groaned as he pulled out Hyourinmaru. He touched the black slot-hole as he frowned. The air around the hole was solidified but was slowly turning back to nothing. The white-haired taicho could only watch as the slot-hole sealed itself, denying him entrance back to his home.
He growled and cursed several more times under his breath when he realized that his Soul Pager was turning up blank. What the heck? Wasn't there supposed to be connection as long as there was reishi acting as signals in the area?
Considering that he was a captain-level Shinigami and that he had not exactly been keeping tabs on his reiatsu, no matter what condition he was in, there should be reishi around him, right?
So why wasn't it connecting? Toushiro had not a single idea.
With a resigned sigh, Toushiro shoved the now-useless-piece-of-thrash back into his robes. He would have to yell at the Twelfth Division for this malfunction when he returns.
If he returns. The white-haired Shinigami corrected grimly. If he was right, he was at a place where he has absolutely no way to connect back to Soul Society. Not to mention that this place seems to even contain mythical creatures such as real vampires.
Toushiro wouldn't be surprised if a werewolf pops out from around the corner.
Sheathing Hyourinmaru, Toushiro leapt onto a thicker branch of the tree beside him. The clothes he had changed out of are lying on the grass, folded neatly. Those people—not exactly—took care of him after all; the Jyuubantai taicho wasn't such an ungrateful person.
Toushiro shunpo-ed forwards, to where he doesn't know. It was all trees around, perhaps he could find somewhere without trees. Maybe he might even get to form some sort of connection with Soul Society.
He continued running, the tree leaves barely rustled each time he stepped on the random branches. He moved quickly and silently, just like a gust of gentile breeze. His light footsteps were skilled and gained from years of experience. They made no sound to give away his presence; they were the silent steps of a warrior.
His wounds had already started to close up; this healing speed was so much faster than normal. Toushiro couldn't understand it, but he was grateful for what ever that kept his wounds in check.
Bella's POV
A few seconds passed before movement returned to the occupants of the room. Everyone had just simply frozen up in shock after the white-haired boy announced that he was dead.
I didn't feel too scared about just having—literally—seen a ghost; Edward's protective arms around me told me I have nothing to be afraid of. I turned towards him, almost everyone else did too.
He looked frustrated. His eyebrows furrowed, creating a small crease in the flawless skin. He looked at Carlisle.
"I could only see through his eyes, but nothing else." Edward informed him. "And he's gone west." I gasped, that's where La Push…where Jacob was. The boy didn't know about them! What if he attacked them? The boy seemed to be very skilled in combat, having dodged Jasper and Emmett's lunges.
I couldn't stop the anxiety that suddenly overcame me. What if Jacob got hurt? What if the boy got hurt? My breath hitched and my anxious eyes darted to meet Edward's liquid gold ones.
"Don't worry, love," Edward soothed me. He took me into his cool marble arms and stroked my hair in a soothing manner. "We won't let either of them get hurt."
With that, Edward let me cling onto his back and we followed the rest of the Cullens out the door, in the direction of La Push.
As the wind blew at my face, I could only pray that Edward's words will come true.
Toushiro's POV
It wasn't long before Toushiro came to the edge of the forest—and pretty unexpectedly—saw the sea. He hasn't expected that he would actually be so near to the sea. Teal orbs flickered with joy at the sight of the large water body. At least he wouldn't be short of water if there was an attack.
The cliff he stood on now was quite high. If he looked down from the edge, it would take quite some time to reach the bottom if he jumped. If he were indeed as old as his looks would suggest, he would be too scared to even come near this edge.
Toushiro sighed; his Soul Pager was still not working. Roar.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and clamed his eyes shut. A migraine was forcing its way into his head; he could feel the ache slowly creeping into his skull.
Ooh kami, how long was he going to be stuck here?
The white-haired youth didn't even have the time to answer his own question when he sensed three odd reiatsus—not unlike the vampires', just a little bit more human like—heading his way at the same speed as the vampires were capable of.
All three had a murderous aura.
"Kuso," Toushiro cursed as he drew Hyourinmaru in a practiced manner. With a flash of the silver blade, Toushiro forcefully knocked away a huge, furry, black claw aimed for his throat.
The black furry object that flew at him was knocked off its feet and flew several feet back into the trees. It gave a soft growl as it landed heavily on the soil.
At first glance, Toushiro thought that these creatures were grizzlies. But upon closer inspection, he noticed that they were a lot slimmer, had longer tails and looked much more intelligent.
They were wolves. A black one, a grey one and a reddish-brown—russet, he concluded—one. All were the size of horses.
Let me guess, Toushiro thought solemnly. Werewolves? Bingo me.
The other two didn't spare their black companion another glance before both lunged at the small figure of the white-haired youth, fangs aimed for his jugular.
"Hado san-jyuu-ichi*," Toushiro chanted under his breath, one palm facing the two fast-approaching canines. "Shakkahou!"
A red ball of energy materialized in front of his outstretched palm and fired itself at the two wolves. Despite the fact that both are animals, the white-haired Shinigami could somehow see how their facial expressions scream identically 'Oh shit…'
The red flame cannon exploded right in their faces and both wolves were no longer visible in the resulting thick smoke. They should be alright; Toushiro had made sure to use the least amount of energy possible.
Satisfied that he had shown them who's boss, Toushiro turned to head back into the woods, it was no use heading in the direction of the sea, there's nothing there except water anyway.
"Hold on," suddenly came a deep voice. Toushiro turned back in surprise; he hadn't sensed anyone, so how did this person enter the area without him noticing?
The one who spoke was a man who looked around twenty. His dark hair was cropped short and he was only wearing a pair of black pants, his well-toned chest exposed. He was bare-footed and his black eyes were fixed on the white-haired youth, taking in the thin and weak-looking limbs, shocking white hair, weird clothing and obvious foreign looks.
The smoke from Toushiro's Shakkahou cleared, revealing the two wolves veiled inside, seemingly unharmed except for the singed patches of fur here and there. Both growled at Toushiro, obviously displeased that they were thrown fireballs. However, none of them seems to be attacking him.
The man made to close the distance between him and Toushiro, perhaps for a more comfortable distance to talk—yes, they were at least ten foot apart—but Toushiro pointed the tip of his blade at him.
"Stay where you are." His icy voice commanded. It doesn't hurt to be more cautious. The man stopped, sighed, and asked in an equally hostile voice.
"Who are you?" that question seems to be appearing a lot today, Toushiro noted.
"No one of great importance." Biggest understatement of the year. "Who are you should be a better question. I expect an explanation of why was I suddenly attacked for no apparent reason." Toushiro assumed that this man was the black wolf—in human form—since they share the same reiatsu signature and the said wolf was nowhere to be seen.
The man narrowed his black eyes, then answered, "I'm Sam," he jerked a thumb at the russet wolf. "Jacob," the russet wolf growled. "Paul." The grey one had all his muscles tensed, ready to pounce any moment, growls rumbled low in its broad chest.
Toushiro kept quiet, waiting for his explanation. He wasn't going to give information if he doesn't get answers.
"Drop the act, bloodsucker. You have disguised yourself well but your disgusting smell will still remain." Sam had a calculative look in his eyes as he waited for the small boy's answer to his statement.
Toushiro smirked incredulously.
"Yare, yare, do I look like a vampire to you?" his smirk dropped. "Don't degrade me to the level of a mindless murderer." He snarled, teal eyes glowing.
No offense to Carlisle's family, Toushiro added mentally. Still, no matter what, he's a Shinigami—captain, never forget the title—and he disliked being called anything other than that.
"Thought so," Sam muttered, almost too softly to be heard. Toushiro heard it anyway, though. "Your scent is almost exactly the same as the bloodsuckers'."
Jacob and Paul now looked back and forth between Sam and Toushiro, unsure of what to do next since their reason for attacking was taken away.
"What are you if you are not a leech then? You don't seem human." Ahh, that dreaded question again. This time, however, Toushiro didn't feel like saying anything.
"How so?" the white-haired youth asked instead. "If you are talking about that fireball I threw, it was a flare I bought for amusement. I never thought I had to use it for something like this." It felt so wrong to lie about the powers the small taicho was so proud of, but he really felt no need to announce to every single person he met that he was dead.
"Your strength is too great for someone your size." A vein popped. Toushiro was now utterly convinced that he didn't want to tell this man anything.
"WHO IN THE DEEPEST PITS OF HELL ARE YOU CALLING A SUPER-MIDGET?" Toushiro yelled. He swear that those muffled barking coming from the two wolves were them trying very hard not to guffaw in his face.
The temperature dropped drastically, causing their warm breath to come out in little white clouds.
Sam looked surprised at the sudden change in temperature but didn't appear to be cold even though he lacked a top. The two wolves behind him seemed confused, the russet one—Jacob—blew another cloud and stuck his black nose in it, as if confirming it was real.
Toushiro took a deep breath to calm himself down, succumbing to his emotions isn't something a captain should do. He didn't let the temperature return, the cold was helping to sooth his nerves and the werewolves didn't seem to mind the cold anyways.
"It's normal for people to have strength greater than they should if they specialize in martial arts, that's common knowledge. What else, I'm interested to hear what reasons you have for falsely accusing me of being a non-human." Toushiro's cold voice was much calmer than his previous irrational outburst.
"Your heartbeat was more than ten times slower than a human's. So far, your heart has only pumped thirty-eight times, in seven minutes."
Toushiro froze. How did this man know the exact number of heartbeats he had when he wasn't even equipped with something remotely similar to a stethoscope? What's more, he swear that he hadn't let the man close enough to use it even if there really was one.
"Werewolves—and bloodsuckers, unfortunately—have enhanced senses." Sam offered as a form of explanation seeing the surprised look on Toushiro's face.
Argh, enhanced senses? That combined with the speed both kinds of creatures exhibited does not help in an ambush—if there was a need, of course—at all. Toushiro pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his teal orbs.
"Any reason to explain that?"
"Unfortunately, no." Toushiro grumbled unwillingly. They won. "I'm telling you that my name is Hitsugaya Toushiro—or Toushiro Hitsugaya in your English customs—and nothing more. Not satisfied? Too bad, bear with it."
Paul growled at Toushiro's snide remark but was cut off by a small beeping sound. It was coming from Toushiro's robes.
Surprised, Toushiro flipped open his Soul Pager.
The blinking screen told him that it was finally working, but with a very limited signal. With a loud crack of statics, Ukitake-taicho's face flickered onto the screen.
"Hitsu—cho—" more statics. "ear—me?" The wolves watched the small silver device in amusement and curiosity.
"There's a lot of static, Ukitake-san," Toushiro answered, trying to put the words together.
"Not goo—losing sig—can—nect" even more statics and the screen when blank, but the sounds still continued. "Kuro—cho workin—five mon—at least—" and then, the signal cut off. The phone went blank and—to his surprise—started emitting smoke from the speaker. It had broken down.
Cursing, the white-haired youth crushed the useless device into an unrecognizable lump. Useless thing.
From what he had heard, most likely what Ukitake meant was that Kurosutchi-taicho was working on getting a connection back to him and would take him at least five months.
Tossing the metal lump on the ground, Toushiro proceeded to message his temple. The migraine had finally caught up with him. And it's not something the tiny taicho enjoyed, mind you.
Sam's POV
Sam watched as the little boy crushed the phone into a lump as easily as if it was made of hard cheese.
The phone obviously had bad signals as the static was enough to deafen anyone in the area. A male's voice came from the other end but every single syllabus was interrupted by a series of static.
Toushiro Hitsugaya—as he had introduced himself as—spoke a line in a foreign language. Sam didn't recognize it, but if the kid's name was anything to go by, he would have said it was Japanese.
Finally when the connection was cut off, the phone had started smoking from a certain opening. That was when the boy crushed it and tossed it onto the ground carelessly before messaging his temples with his oddly-colored—Sam had never seen teal ones before—eyes shut tightly.
What a strange kid.
First was his scent. It was as if someone had mixed the smell of a bloodsucker with fresh snow and decided to add a bit of watermelon. It didn't sting his nose like a how bloodsucker's scent would, but it made his nose inch enough to make up for it. He had a strange urge to sneeze when ever he smelt it.
Just like pepper, he concluded. The faint scent of the Cullens clinging onto him also told Sam that he must have had contact with the Cullens not too long ago.
Then, was his strength. He was much too strong for someone his size and age. If Hitsugaya was a grown man but this…tiny—he won't need a measuring tape to tell that the white-haired midget was no taller than four foot five—he could understand.
However, Hitsugaya looked barely twelve. There's no way he could have crushed a phone that easily unless he was a bloodsucker—or a werewolf. Sam was totally confused. The boy falls under none of the categories.
His heart rate only added to the mystery. Only a dying man would have a heart that slow, a heart that was just barely beating.
Hitsugaya doesn't look like he was about to die either. Well, not really. He was pale enough to be a dead person, actually. But have you ever seen a dying person swinging a long sword, crushing a phone and yelling his head off at an unintentional insult thrown at him? Definitely no.
So he stared at the mystery named Toushiro Hitsugaya, hoping that it will unravel itself.
Almost as if sensing Sam's eyes on him, icy teal orbs snapped open and glared right into Sam's black ones.
For a moment, Sam saw a black, hooded figure behind the white-haired boy. The blade of the dark scythe it held glinted in the light.
Sam blinked.
And the figure was gone.
For the first time in his life, Sam felt true fear. The true fear of death.
Done with chapter four! And Shiro-chan's adventure continues! It wasn't much of a fight scene down there but hoped everyone enjoyed this chapter! See ya guys in da next chappie!
Japanese words (in case someone doesn't understand):
San-jyuu-ichi: thirty one
Shakkahou: red flame cannon
Please review! (They drive me to write faster!)
Arigato!
