Author's rambling:

Took me some time, but university is a bitch T.T

This one is one of my favs so far… hopefully you like it as well XD

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He was standing motionlessly in the gloomy alley, alone, except for a dove sitting on the roof across from him. Though no other soul was close by, he could still hear the voices of his comrades as they swarmed the streets, yelling orders and answers back and forth until a casual bystander could barely make out who was talking to whom.

His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and with a small, slightly irritated sigh, he pushed them up again with a slender finger.

What a dull day.

Instead of learning some higher level kidou, he was doomed to sit around in this dirty, stinking cul de sac and watch his precious time pass by. Why his unit of all units had been ordered to take care of this irritating matter, he had yet to understand.

Someone had killed seven men with a katana in a pigpen somewhere behind him and was probably still roaming the streets of this district. The inhabitants had started to panic and Yamamoto-soutaichou had decided to send a squad down to investigate and bring down the murderer before the situation got out of hand.

Why all the ruckus and expenditure when only a few unnecessary, good-for-nothing souls were at stake, was beyond him. That guy could get rid of another hundred for all he cared. A waste, if anybody dared to ask him.

In most shinigami's opinion though, Rukongai was a delicate matter. A powder keg, ready to explode any time and unsolved killings could function as the match to light the barrel.

Turning 180 degrees, he eyed the entry of the street he had been ordered to take care of, almost rolling his eyes when two of his fellow colleagues passed by, their flaring reiatsu telling him, that they were disturbed, maybe even afraid with the task they had been assigned to.

Most of his comrades had barely left academy and had only recently joined the 5th squad to serve under their first and – if they stayed on their current level – last taichou. They were nothing more than fodder for the hollows, kept in their little barracks like rabbits until they were fat enough to be slaughtered.

Looking up at the bright blue sky, he mused how long the higher ups would need to realize his potential and get him out of the hutch. He could only hope it wouldn't take too long.

His hand rested on the hilt of his katana, eyes still casted upwards, when he felt it the first time.

Combing his free hand through his hazel brown hair, he looked around, one corner of his mouth pulled up in bewildered irritation.

A strange reiatsu crept along the ground, spiking up and ebbing away in an irregular pattern. Someone was drawing closer. Someone with a pretty messed up spirit energy.

Closing his orbs, he concentrated on the reiatsu's composition, hand closing and opening rhythmically around his weapon as he inwardly started to hum a tune only known to him. He always started to hum whenever he came across something new or was confronted with a tricky situation. It helped his sharp mind to stay focused.

Frowning, he opened his eyes again when he felt the source of the energy come to a standstill somewhere behind the wall of the house opposite of where he was lounging.

The reiatsu felt like that of a frightened child, though the pressure was far exceeding that of his comrades. It felt like a tremor, the peaks so high it could have been a seated officer, when only a fraction of a millisecond later it would reach such a low level, that he could barely perceive it anymore.

He doubted strongly, that any of his teammates had come as far as to even notice the reiatsu among the quivering mass of spirit energy evaporating from the dozens of shinigami currently filling the streets.

And he seriously didn't care.

He was capable of taking on seated officers and didn't doubt his abilities in the least, especially when he was about to merely face a sorry spirit individual, who had somehow gotten his hands on a few cups of reiatsu.

Out of the corner of the eye, he saw a mob of hair moving underneath the crude window, disappearing again on the other side of a wall.

The energy pressure was definitely coming from that one, he mused with a bored sigh, unsheathing his sword as he walked along the wall to where it ended and merged into a fence.

Masking his reiatsu completely, he jumped across the obstacle and stood deathly still in the dirty backyard.

Just as he had expected, the door leading outside opened then and a bare foot appeared.

Watching a hand appear on the frame of the door, the shinigami's eyes narrowed, his fingers wrapped around the silky hilt of his katana in anticipation as he waited for the figure to step out into the open and show himself.

"Wha -"

The brown-haired man couldn't remember the last time he had felt stunned to the point where his mouth had opened in surprise.

Right in front of him, a boy was standing.

His squinted eyes were level with his chest, long slender arms hanging loosely by his side. He was covered in blood and gore from head to toe and the shinigami could only guess that the color of his hair had been silver-gray at one point.

The most astonishing thing was, that the boy was indeed the owner of the flaring reiatsu. It was seeping out of him without the slightest bit of control, evaporating from his skin like water from a steaming pot.

In his right hand, he was holding tightly onto a bloodied short katana.

"Hey, boy." He started, sheathing his sword again. A smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth, his glasses sliding down again a few millimeters as he took a step forward towards the youngster.

He could see the muscles tensing in the lean body as he prepared himself to run away.

Smirking now fully, the shinigami allowed his reiatsu to engulf him once more, bringing his spirit pressure to a level that would make normal spirits faint. But this one stayed upright, his breathing becoming ragged as he stared ahead at his tall opponent.

There was something dark hovering around the boy, like a mist intermingled with his disturbed reiatsu. The shinigami recognized the energy pattern.

It was that of a hollow.

How very peculiar…

For the fraction of a second, the tall man's reiatsu burst like a flame and the kid went finally slack, falling to his knees as the sword clattered to the muddy ground.

He watched the silver haired boy spasm for a few moments, chest heaving in excitement at this soul that had perked his interest like nothing ever before. What was it with that boy's reiatsu? How had he acquired his zanpakutou at such a young age?

Was there a possibility to use that dark energy for himself?

Quietening down his reiatsu again, he picked up the unconscious boy and the short sword. He would get rid of his bloodied shihakusho later; nobody would notice his absence anyway.

Jumping onto the next roof, he looked ahead to where he knew the river was running behind the village and then back down at the boy tucked under his arm.

Maybe this whole ordeal hadn't been such a waste of time after all. Maybe he had just stumbled across something worth investigating some more…

Shunpo was still quite energy consuming, but he decided that it was the only way to evade all those dumb shinigami running heedlessly through the streets like ants looking for the marked way back to their nest.

With a few quick steps, he had reached the sandy bank of the river and lay down the still figure far more gently than he had ever been to anyone else in his afterlife. Bringing the sword up close to his face, he pulled down the offending, useless glasses and held the katana against the light for closer inspections.

It was in fact a soul slayer and judging by the reiatsu, it belonged without a doubt to the young man lying to his feet.

Chuckling shortly, he let the katana fall to the ground. Smiling almost fondly down at the boy, he put his glasses back on and crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

Yes, the day had in fact been a success.

Aizen was sure of that.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

FINIS?!

Review-worthy?