Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach and never will.

Girl/Gal-of-Action- It has been ages since I last posted, especially for this story. As you might have guessed, I discontinued this one a long time ago. It's amazing I managed to keep track of all the plot threads back then. I had a few more chapters written, but never got them proofread and posted. Finally though, after graduating from college, I was convinced by some kind reviewers to just post what I have left. The amazing Nienna Telrunya was one of these reviewers, and she even offered to help by betaing this mess, which I greatly appreciate. I am not sure if these remaining chapters would have ever seen the light of day without her help.

Without further ado, chapter 11.

-DIVIDER-

Hitsugaya Toshiro's POV...

Moving ice.

In shades of dark blue it dances across the landscape barren of anything else. The sky is rich in midnight blue without sun, moon or stars. The dim light, somehow, is just there. My feet, bare as usual, touch the frozen ground beneath, while wisps of chilling air caress my arms and nip at my heels.

I've never seen Winter, at least not that I can remember, and have been left to endlessly fantasize the true nature of it from Granny's patient tales. The mud under feet would turn to soft, frosty snow. Cool nights would become frigid and pelting rain would transform into dancing snowflakes.

Then there is ice. The idea of water becoming so cold, it would freeze into a transparent, shimmering solid that could easily cut or slip past fingers with the sharpest and smoothest edges… An element that can create, preserve and destroy… But never, in all of my imaginings, could I ever come up with something so vivid as this winter's night, void of anything but still, frigid air and shadows of ice that move in a way that seems alive.

"What do you want?!" I yell out finally, voice echoing. I bite my lip, forcing myself not to wince at the volume of the reverberating echo. No answer. I try again. "I have nothing you could possibly want. Nothing! Why do you keep haunting me?!" A flicker of a long shadow, closer to me than all the rest. I jerk at the spotted movement, and stride with a quickened pace toward what I assume to be the center of this nearly barren landscape, where the dim light is the brightest in a small circle of pale white. My memory is foggy, but I know enough to realize that I'm always here when it happens, when I see the dragon of crystal blue and eyes like hard ruby.

This night is no different.

"BOY!" The less-than-kind greeting shakes the ground I stand on, and it's a struggle to stay standing; the frozen ground is slippery enough already. The voice goes on, not waiting for me to respond. "What have you done? What have you brought into your home?"

I squint my eyes, searching the distant, shifting shadows. "I don't understand. What do you mean? What have I brought?"

I try to make out the words, but it's like the more I try to listen, the harder it is. I can just make out the scattered words: "Foreign…. Fear… Confusion… Great power…" I shake my head, at a loss. But then, when I've about given up hope, I hear full sentences again. "Tell me, are you certain this is not foe, but friend? Are you certain?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly. "I don't understand. Who? What?" The voice tries to answer, but the air, frigid and still a while back, has long since stirred into a frenzy, as it always does in the voice's presence. I can't hear a word above the roar. "Please. Who are you?!"

The dragon moves just outside my circle of visible light, and the voice struggles to be heard over the rushing wind, "I AM—" A sense of sinking despair drags me down as the words are once again garbled by the passing winds…

I wake up abruptly to air noticeably colder than before. It doesn't bother me, but I know if I go back to sleep it will only get worse for Granny, who is already ill. Setting my jaw, I determine to survive the rest of the night with only those few hours of sleep. I sit on my futon, in complete silence except for the rhythmic breathing of the two other occupants in this room.

Ichigo is one of them. Before he had the chance to leave, Granny returned. She knew who he was almost immediately, that he is the one the shinigami are searching for. The older boy tried to make it sound like he'd forced me into helping him get away, but Granny didn't fall for it. She made him sit down and tell her the whole story, and after carefully listening to his tale (which wasn't long, considering his memory loss), she insisted that he at least stay the night with us. It was the least they could do, after what Ichigo did for our city, even if he doesn't remember helping. He agreed, if reluctantly.

Another memory assails me, this one of the "dream" I just had. Could Ichigo be what that great dragon was referring to? The confusion? The fear? Foreign? They all could fit. But great power? He did beat all those mercenaries at the marketplace, and that one shinigami he questioned. The thought sets my nerves on edge. I study the orange-haired figure in the dim light of the moon trickling through the open window, trying to discern any signs of great, hidden power… Nothing. He just lies there, eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids. He must be having some sort of intense dream or nightmare… I muse.

Letting out a small sigh, I push myself off my futon, deciding I'm parched and need some water. Quietly, so as to not disturb Granny resting a few yards away, I stand and walk to the front door. Grabbing a wooden bucket next to it, I silently glide out the door and to the well nearby, careful to watch my step as best as I can. I pause when I hear what sounds like—screaming? No, more like shouting. Although I can't make the words, the distant voice doesn't seem panicked, just urgent. Following this is what sounds to be the tortured cry of a dying animal. Thoroughly disturbed, I quickly tie the rope waiting at the well to the handle of my bucket, then lowering the bucket and obtaining a decent amount of water. Continuing to work swiftly, I pull it up and untie the rope. I lug the bucket back inside…just in time to see Ichigo begin to violently convulse on the floor. I drop my bucket in shock, water spilling across the floor. "Ichigo!"

-DIVIDER-

Ichigo's POV… A minute before.

Rain harshly pelts my back, and I grunt in annoyance and confusion. I'm supposed to be inside that small cabin with Toshiro and his elderly grandmother. I'm not sure of much at the moment, but of that much I am sure. So why…? I open my eyes. I'm standing up—or am I? I'm staring directly into the sky. Feeling disoriented and more than a little nauseated, I try to regain my bearings. It's difficult; thin fog shrouds everything in the distance. I go to sit down, but pause before I do. That's not pavement… The blue glass I'm on is fragmented by wire-thin cracks. I shift my weight. More cracks form with the distinctive sound of glass coming under strain. My heart seems to crawl into my throat. All around me, fragile blue glass. What exactly am I standing on?

Dirty rain water runs over my face but doesn't drip off my chin and doesn't splatter directly onto the glass below. Instead, it trickles off the tip of my nose and bangs, sliding off the edge of one cheek. It's raining sideways.

I swallow thickly. The wind picks up, whipping against my exposed face. Cling. I turn my head toward the sound, shielding my eyes as best I can from the sideways rain that mercilessly drops against the entire length of my body. Cling! In the distance, I see a deep black stand out from the light gray and pronounced blue everywhere else. My feet stumble towards the object, driven by a sudden intense urge to discover the only apparent object in this strange world. Crackling. Cracks form quietly beneath my feet, and I slow down at the sight. The object of interest comes into view. What…? Dangling from somewhere above and moved by the fierce wind is the severed end of a thick, obsidian black chain.

The wind picks up again, slamming the severed chain against my building for the last time. Shattering. Glass fragments fly; the severed chain slips out of view as I freefall through the building.

I give a shout. Sharp slivers of glass slip in and lodge themselves inside before I can stop it. I turn over to my side, coughing violently. My palm rests firmly against—wood? I'm lying down.

"...Ichigo!"

Breathe. Breathe! I tell myself sternly. Nothing's there! I'm choking on air!

"Kami—Ichigo, are you choking? What's going on?" Small hands tightly grip my shoulder and, with strength that should not be available to a seemingly twelve-year-old body, Toshiro helps me into a sitting position.

"Careful! He may not be aware of himself. Best give him some room," comes the warning from his grandmother, and Toshiro edges away. Gradually, my shaking ends. Toshiro picks up the bucket of water he dropped, gingerly avoiding what's spilled, and offers me what's left along with a spoon. His grandmother, who insisted earlier that I call her either "Grandmother" or "Granny," begins asking me questions. Apparently she is some type of revered healer and herbalist in the city, and knows a great deal of how the (spiritual) body works.

She asks me some questions, and listens intently while nodding appropriately at certain points. "I have something that should help, dear," she says, patting my knee comfortingly. "I'll fetch some soothing herbs from the back to calm your nerves." I try to protest, but she shoos away my words and enters the back of the cottage, leaving just Toshiro and me.

He asks me if I am alright as I sip quietly at the water. "I'm fine," I assure, managing to keep my voice under control. "It was just a dream." I gulp down the water now. "Just a dream," I repeat, and even to my ears it sounds like I'm just trying to reassure myself.

He stares at me.

"You have it too, don't you?" he utters softly, and I peer up at him inquisitively. His small hands form tight fists at his side. "There's…something that I should tell you. Those two shinigami I met, the Shibas?" I nod in understanding, remembering our conversation just a few hours back.

He goes on. "They weren't the first shinigami I met. There was another, Matsumoto Rangiku I think was her name. Tall lady with bright orange hair, like yours. She told me I have the same power all shinigami have. She referred to it as reiryoku or reiatsu. Spiritual power. She said it was manifesting through my dreams." He has been fiddling with the hem of his clothing, but at finishing this, he looks up at me with serious ice blue eyes. "I don't think they're just dreams."

We sit in silence for several seconds, mulling over this and doing our best to ignore distant, discomfiting sounds. By the way Toshiro represses a shiver at the echo of a distant—howl?—I'm guessing he feels the same.

"I think you're right." I finally respond, about to elaborate on how the shinigami I, uh, questioned hinted much the same. But I don't get a chance to say anything more before "Grandmother" returns. I accept the powder-looking substance she offers with gratitude, and mix it with my water as instructed. An hour passes before Toshiro and I address what's at the forefront of our minds.

"...Ichigo?"

"Yeah?"

"Be honest with me, please. Does it scare you?" The dream that's not a dream. Does it?

I'm conflicted. There is a tremor in his voice. I'm caught between wanting to protect Toshiro and wanting to be honest. I decide to answer honestly, remembering the vividness of it, and the feeling of foreboding. The severed obsidian chain. The sideways rain. Tiny shards of glass slipping into my mouth open in shock, and cutting away at my innards. I could feel every slice. "...I'm terrified, more or less," I admit. Would lying have given him a source of strength? Or just make him feel even more isolated?

I hear him chuckle humorously. "Me too," he returns hoarsely.

"But hey," I add in a lighter note, shifting to my side. "If the shinigami found a way to deal with it and even make the best of it, then so can we." I see his faint outline glance toward me at my words, attentive. I go on. "With the kind of power we have… We can potentially do whatever we want. You said I am a mercenary, right? Some type of bodyguard?"

"That's right."

"I can go back to that, and do even better. Before long, I could be defending nobles." But even as I say the words, they taste bitter in my mouth. Is that all I'm destined for? Protecting rich assholes for money? Maybe that's not fair. Maybe I'll find someone who can pay enough for me to live comfortably, while at the same time being worthy of my protection and loyalty. Just the same, something about the life of a mercenary doesn't sit right with me. "And as for you. You can protect your grandmother and your city. Prove to them that they were wrong about you," I add, thinking of our conversation a few hours back, just after Grandmother insisted I stay and the sky went dark. Amazing how much two people are willing to share with each other in the dead of night when they feel they have no one else.

I hear him snort quietly in disbelief. "Or it'll just prove to them that I'm even more of a freak than they first thought."

I can't help but roll my eyes some. "Being different doesn't make you a freak, Toshiro." I tell him offhandedly. "In fact, it can make you better. How many people do you know would take in someone who is armed, lost their memories, and running from the shinigami?" I pause just enough for him to digest that. "That's not freakish. That's serious courage and heart. You're the kindest person I know."

He lets out a small chuckle, as if to laugh it all off, but I can hear the true emotion behind it. "I'm pretty much the only person you know right now," he points out wryly, and I resist the urge to groan "Don't remind me." "But I'll take it. Thank you, Ichigo."

"No problem."

"Is the plan still the same, then?" I make an inquisitive sound. He specifies. "All this talk of gaining more power like the shinigami and living your own life… How can you do that without becoming one of them? Is that even allowed?"

I'm silent for a while, collecting my thoughts. "Those shinigami, the Shibas, right?" He replies in the affirmative. "Well, from the way you described them, I think I saw them too. They tried to talk to me, to help and calm me down… But when one of their crazy coworkers suddenly attacked me, I thought it was all a big trap. Looking back on it, I don't think that's the case. I even think they may have been arguing when I left." I shake my head. "Anyways, it's a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, they can teach us how to control this."

Toshiro bites his bottom lip, gaining an intensely thoughtful look at this. "How can you even be sure that they're still out there though?" he asks, and by the way he tenses, I can't help but feel he's holding some bit of information back.

Just then, an inhuman howl sounds out into the night, blatantly cut short. There is a pregnant pause as we stare at each other in silence. I may not remember much, but there are things (like common knowledge for my "career", I think) that I still remember with complete clarity. How to speak, how to function as a person. How to move in hand-to-hand combat, how to strike with a sword and run more quickly than most… How to discern the distinct sounds of a hollow in the night. "...I think it's a safe bet to say that they are," I comment, and with a stiff, slight nod Toshiro silently agrees. We continue on as if we have nothing to fear.

"Do you believe these shinigami would be willing to teach you, and then let you go free? Just like that?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly," I amend. "If I'm right, then they may do it out of gratitude. One of them mentioned that I 'helped his family more than I can imagine,'" I reveal with an edge of wonder to my tone. Just who am I, really? How did I end up this way?

Toshiro sits up, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. "Do you have any idea of what that may mean?"

"Not a clue," I answer without hesitation, lying all the way down on my borrowed futon and tucking my hands behind my head. "But I'm going to find out."

-DIVIDER-

Ise Nanao's POV...

"Enkosen." Below the younger raven-haired woman shields her face at the sudden bright yellow light from the arc shield. She grips her zanpakuto tightly as the small but powerful projectiles impact. Explosions, and the shield fades. I land at a kidō-ready stance, another shortened incantation on my lips. "Hadō #32: Ōkasen." My voice is level and soft—not the loud, near-panicked tones the less practiced so often use when saying an incantation.

A blaze of yellow appears from the palm of my hand and quickly widens as the streak of power darts forward. Its carefully concentrated energy slices one hollow neatly in half and temporarily blinds two more as it lights up the night in front of them. I'm about to use another kidō to finish the job when the girl I saved recuperates much more quickly than expected.

"Byakurai!" she commands. Blue sparks trickle from her fingertips before a rush of blue fire and darting lightning. The lightning blasts one hollow apart without a moment's hesitation. The pale column of destruction is then quickly swung over to the remaining hollow, scorching the earth as it goes. The hollow is just as quick to react, however—

I don't think so, I muse silently, out loud announcing, "Shō." The blast at its feet makes the four-legged creature topple over itself. The other woman's Byakurai finishes it off a moment later with a pitiful whimper from it just before the end. The carcass oozes steam and slowly begins to disintegrate. The girl pants in wide-eyed exertion at the kill. I recognize her now. The Kuchiki noble, whose family is famous for their kidō expertise, especially for turning very low level kidōs into the deadliest of weapons. Byakurai is the one they are probably most famous for, or at least I hear it's Captain Kuchiki's favorite. A trait that has been passed on to his sister, it seems. They have my respect.

As the final hollows in this part of the perimeter are defeated, I dismiss all of those gathered about, minus Kuchiki, and they shunpo off in search of an area that needs more attention. I turn to the remaining shinigami besides myself. "Kuchiki-san. Good work." And all things considered, it was. The power she put behind only a single word was phenomenal, the only indicator that she has not yet mastered the art being the way she naively shouted the word at the top of her lungs (as if that would give the kidō attack more power). I stretch out my senses, locating her own lieutenant some ways away, leading the defense to the west side of the perimeter, and faring well from the feel of it.

Here, to the north, quiet reigns once more at the edges of the City on a Hill and the surrounding area. The younger woman pants, struggling to regain her breath as she looks up at me in pleasant surprise, a smile forming at her lips. "Ise-fukutaicho! Thank you for joining us." She gives a bow, and while we are the only two people in the immediate area, I know what she means.

Adjusting my thin-rimmed glasses, I remind her, "Where ever the 13th goes, the 8th is sure to follow." It is a well-known, although hardly ever spoken, fact that shinigami owe their allegiance first to their captain, then to the captain commander, and finally to the Central 46. It's a bit different for people of nobility, as well as those in my own division. After my captain, the next in line in my mind's eye is Ukitake-taicho. Not only are our captains close, but our divisions are as well.

"Of course," Kuchiki quickly agrees. "And vice versa, I'm just as sure."

I curtly nod. "Our joint captains have really spared no effort to see to that."

Practically jumping at the chance for some friendly company on this danger-ridden night, my new companion quickly concurs. "Oh, absolutely! I've been to several of our joint training sessions over the years. Kyōraku-taicho is very creative with his ideas; I always look forward to them."

I incline my head in agreement "Yes, my captain is certainly the most…imaginative. Not to say that your captain does not have stellar ideas. Ukitake-taicho is an intelligent, skilled, strong-yet-gentle man, much like my captain—though unlike him, Ukitake-taicho has the decency not to hit on ladies centuries younger than he is, and from what I hear, he actually does his work—whenever he is able. Ukitake-taicho's illness is a valid excuse after all, while cloud-gazing and spending time together certainly is not." I come to holding a shaking fist in front of me, one brow twitching, and a flustered looking Kuchiki a few feet away. She wears a rather…unnerved smile while a sweatdrop runs down one side of her face. The shaking of my hand stills, and I quietly cough into my fisted hand, delicately clearing my throat. "I apologize. Stress of my new rank getting to me, I suspect," I explain coldly, about to withdraw myself from the conversation.

"It's alright!" she exclaims, quick to comfort me and swiftly waving her hands dismissively in front of her. I am touched by the apparent sincerity behind her words.

"Are you quite sure?" I inquire dubiously, back stiff as a board. Some people may think otherwise, but truly I'm a very sensitive person, and one who does not easily garner friends or even friendly acquaintances. Only loyal subordinates. I can be a great leader, yet somehow, never a good friend, no matter how hard I work to be…amiable.

"Yes, I understand. Working so closely with someone, and especially forming a fukutaicho-taicho bond, can be quite difficult. Kaien-dono has told me more than once of his first few years experience in becoming a lieutenant. Our captain has a tendency of, erm"—she lowers her voice, as if embarrassed, even though I can sense no one but us in the immediate vicinity—"babying anyone significantly younger than he is. It is understandable in a way, considering his age. We must all seem like children to him, but still… Sometimes he seems to completely forget that those sixty years and older are officially adults. It was one of the main things Kaien-dono and Ukitake-taicho had to work through."

My eyes widen slightly behind my glasses as this account is imparted to me. "I never thought of it that way…" I mutter out loud, loud enough for her to hear. "Of course, I've always known that no one can be perfect," I iterate pensively, pursing my lips. "But it seems I've been holding my captain insuch high esteem that now that I've actually come to know him, every flaw has been magnified out of proportion." A brief memory comes to mind, as if to taunt my new theory. ~Nanao-chaaaan, you wound me. Don't you want to spend time with your handsome, adoring taicho-kun?~

I grimace. Even so far away, he still manages to frustrate me. I swear, one of these days I'll just—just smack him upside the head with one of my books and be done with it! "…Then again, while that may be the case to some degree, there is no denying that some of the antics he pulls are just plain irresponsible. Not to sound arrogant, but I sometimes ponder how my division ever functioned after Lisa-fukutaicho left and before my promotion." I refuse to think of Lisa-fukutaicho as a traitor, and am careful to make that clear.

Kuchiki seems thoughtful, an index finger pressed to her chin as she gazes intently down. "Perhaps he realizes how highly you regarded him, and wishes to shatter those, in his mind, misconceptions before you become even more hurt later? Maybe he even feels uncomfortable with his leadership role; he seems to go out of his way, after all, to discredit that image. The unshaven face, odd hat, pink kimono…" She blinks slowly, raising her head to see my amused and baffled expression. She's rather…emboldened. As well as intuitive, I must admit.

Kuchiki seems to suddenly realize that for the past few minutes, we have been pointing out the flaws of captains to each other. "N-not that there's anything wrong any of that!" she's swift to comment. "I mean, yes, it's not too uniform a regulation, but surely someone of his age and rank are allowed a few exceptions after so many years of dutiful service—"

I raise a hand before she can ramble any further. She stares at me with a purposefully blank expression, and I offer the slightest of smiles to slip onto my lips. "Kuchiki-san. I won't denounce you, especially when all of your hypotheses and observations are most likely valid." I let my hand drop, chuckling quietly to myself. "It seems we are more similar than I first realized. Would you like to fight alongside me for the rest of the night?" I offer her a hand, steeling myself in case of a negative response. Somehow, though, I doubt that will happen. Sure enough, she clasps her equally slim hand in mine.

"It would be my pleasure, Nanao-san." She smiles brightly at me.

-DIVIDER-

Granny's POV…

My boy. My poor boy. I wish I could save him from his current path; there is much potential glory but little happiness where he is headed. I tried to offer him all I could, the love of a family, no matter how small…and now that family is falling to pieces. My little girl is already there, happier than she has ever been here, but I know she is being played for a fool. That girl has always relied more on heart than mind—so unlike her adopted younger brother in that matter. Her brother would stay if he felt he could, that much is clear, but the reason he wants to stay is the same reason he feels he has to leave. For me.

Such a lonely child, with no friends to speak of, and nothing else for him here. The common folk have always instinctively known that he is different from the rest, his looks aside, and have shunned him for it. At least, for a time, he may make with the shinigami the good friendships he's never had here. That young fellow he brought back early tonight seems more than willing, and for that, I am grateful. Perhaps he could defend my boy until they are both strong enough to fight together.

But will they be strong enough to endure when the time comes? I may pass away before the end arrives, but I am an old lady, and they will live for many more years after me. How foolish I was to think I might find some sort of reprieve out here. There is no worse shame nor greater a burden to one's soul…than knowing that you share the blame of dooming your grandchildren's generation.

With a heavy heart, I close my eyes, leaving the boys to continue their oblivious whisperings, and leaving those distant shouts in the night to quietly echo.

-DIVIDER-

Shiba Kaien's POV…

With one hand I shade my eyes as dawn's rosy fingers continue to climb over the horizon and strike everything with a light golden hue. I let out a small, content sigh…no worse for wear, as I'm not unused to all-nighters by any means. By now the hollows in this and the surrounding districts have all but been wiped out. There were some injuries, but with the abundance of volunteers, not one death. As I breathe in the morning air, I can't help but feel that it is just that much fresher than the morning before. Behind me, I sense Rukia and Nanao-san land from their respective shunpos.

"It worked," Nanao-san comments, sounding distinctively pleased and probably adjusting her glasses as she so often does.

"It did," I return, chest swelling up with more than a little joy. We finally, really pushed back the tide, and more important than that, we…

Rukia sighs loudly in vivid relief as I turn to face her and my fellow lieutenant. "I have to admit…I was initially upset. It felt like our plan was only agreed to so we could use Hitsugaya and Ichigo as, well, as…"

"Bait?" I offer. She nods silently and so do I in return, curtly. "We were, more or less, although I hate to say it. Soutaicho knew what he was doing when he approved our request. Two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. On one hand, he can have his person of interest protected. while on the other, he can use their combined, uncontrollable spiritual pressure to draw the hollows in, so we can greatly thin out their numbers."

"Like moths to a flame," I hear Nanao-san mumble. "I've never seen so many hollows gathered in one place," she remarks with no small amount of wonder.

"Or ranked shinigami," Rukia adds contemplatively. "Even though the soutaicho designated this mission strictly as 'volunteers only', so many joined. Mostly from the 13th, 8th, and 2nd..." Her expression of amazement soon sours to one of despising. "Even the eleventh, although they were forbidden to join for obvious reasons."

How they cruelly chased down Ichigo like a starving pack of dogs is still fresh in our minds. They're mad, the lot of them, I think bitterly, bangs shadowing my eyes for a moment. Their excuse was ridiculous, something about the kid having already beaten a third seat and wanting to prove themselves by beating the boy in a spar themselves. Ridiculous, I repeat internally, nearly scoffing aloud, but something about it still doesn't sit right with me, and I'm ill at ease. All the members, when questioned separately, said the same exact thing. They didn't make the excuse up on the spot, and the eleventh aren't known for thinking ahead… Although, I suppose, there's a first for everything.

You know better than to leave anything unconsidered, Kaien, chides Nejibana in a light tone. You are seeing this child, Ichigo, through rose-colored lenses. He may not be as harmless as you would like to think.

Maybe, I reply reluctantly. But you must admit, the state he was in the last time we saw him? He was terrified.

Yes, such a change from the way you described him the first time—mysterious and confident, correct? A pity I was not there to witness it. My lips twist dangerously downward at the thought, and I have to look away from my conversing companions in case they see my expression. I self-consciously grip Nejibana, my constant companion since my early academy days. Peace, Kaien. Can the sea fall still without one first destroying the moon? Likewise, nothing can permanently kill me without first destroying you. I will be with you to the end.

I relax. You and your metaphors, I tease wryly.

At least I am creative with them. "Two birds with one stone." Really? I smother a chuckle so I don't attract any odd looks from my companions.

Yes, well, "if the wheel isn't broken…"

I hear Nejibana give an exaggerated, weary sigh. How droll, Kaien, how very droll… But really, in all seriousness, keep in mind what I've said. She goes on before I can comment. Protect the boy, yes. I also believe that you should give him all that you wish in your heart to give him—and more. But. Do not accept everything he says at face value. Fear will drive him to lie, as I doubt his circumstances are all a stroke of extraordinarily good or ill luck. Do not rule out any hint of his true origins; keep aware.

I agree resolutely. No matter my feelings, I need to keep my objectivity. Ichigo is as much of an enigma as he is anything else. An enigma I need to solve before anybody else, if not to sate my own curiosity, than definitely for his own protection. That much (and so much more) I owe him.

"When did Rangiku-fukutaicho say she would drop by their cabin?" I ask, distracting the girls from their rapid discussion. I have long since mastered the art of paying attention to my surroundings while speaking to my zanpakuto, and while I didn't catch all the details, it's pretty clear that the two girls have grown close through the trials of this overnight mission.

"Oh, um." Rukia taps her chin, looking up thoughtfully. "Sometime mid-morning, I believe."

"Alright then. Since Hitsugaya-kun seems reasonable and has already agreed to go with Rangiku-san, the two of them together should be able to convince Ichigo to come as well. Hopefully by now, Ichigo has had more than enough time to calm down and think rationally." Although with the captain of the second coming after him as she did, I wouldn't blame him if he was still in a panicked state, I think glumly.

Nanao-fukutaicho nods curtly. "Yes... The chances of him running to this Hitsugaya Toshiro are quite remarkable though, don't you think? To find, in all the Rukongai, someone willing to help and in the same exact situation as he is, more or less…" By now, word has long since gotten around of the second powerful young soul (Hitsugaya) found in the Rukongai, although what exactly he looks like is still a mystery to most. "We are all quite lucky," she informs us stoically.

"I don't believe luck has anything to do with it," Rukia remarks out of the blue.

Nanao-san appears momentarily startled. "What was that?"

Rukia just shakes her head with a small smile. "Nothing…"

We stare at Rukia oddly, bemused. I am about to comment on the behavior when a division tenth member rushes to my side and drops to one knee. "Sir!" I turn to fully face him, instantly on high alert. A quick reiatsu sense of the surrounding area brings no hollows to attention, however.

"Yes?"

"The subjects are on the move towards the nearby city. A few stealth force operatives are tailing them to see that they come to no harm. We do not know their current intentions. Orders?" As the founder of this mission, these decisions fall to me, no matter from what division a shinigami is actually from.

To him, I say, "Spread the word. We're tightening our perimeter to the city itself only." To Rukia: "Contact Rangiku-fukutaicho and see if she can come early. I know she is busy taking care of the Third, but it seems she'll need to spare a few minutes earlier than expected."

-DIVIDER-

Girl/Gal-of-Action- Thank you to anyone still reading this old story. I hope you have all have a wonderful New Year!