Here's the newest one. Sorry for, uh, taking so long.

Anyway, guys, my other story is going to be updated in two weeks, so stay tuned.

I tried to go at this chapter with something a little new involving my writing style, so tell me what you think.

*Goood vibes*

"Show me a hero, and I'll write a tragedy." -Anon

Crack.

Eyelids fringed heavily with black lashes fluttered at the loud banging at the door. The scent of lavender and oil was heavy in the room, making it easy to breathe, as if smelling a flower on a spring's day. Sleep hung around heavily, making bones and muscles feel like lead and peaceful all at the same time.

The noise grew louder and the figure on the bed toss-and-turn, basking in the sun's glow. Though that's also when it grew too hot and uncomfortable.

Giving a grumble, they burrowed deeper into the sheets, intent on staying in that blissful state of sleep altogether. Whoever was trying to wake him up was playing a game that involved losing limbs; or dying in general.

When the knocking on the door became apparent, they brought the over themselves, trying to block out the sound by stuffing their ears with the blanket.

If Matsumoto needed him, then she knows better than to do so at this time of day—even the sun was half-awake for goodness sakes. Unless it was an emergency, then the blonde bombshell would've barged right into the privacy of his room.

Crack.

So if she was trying to get him up for any other reason, he'd give the woman four times the amount of healthy paperwork. Sure, that might be considered torture, and Unohana might scold him (he wasn't a child!), but it was a suitable punishment. Either that or reporting her to the Head-Captain and like the Old Man would actually do something about it anyway.

That's when the knocking grew into crash noises, shaking the ground and ultimately, his bed. The small, fragile illusion of sleep was shattered into millions of pieces—then scattering into the proverbial wind. Eyes cracked opened; sore and un-used from being kept closed all night, and then grimacing at the piercing sunlight he slowly sat up.

There was a slight pain in his shoulder, but when an opposite hand reached up to inspect it, there was no injury. A phantom feeling from a past wound then?

That was one of the plausible guesses; the other being muscle strain. Yet to make that possible and relevant, he'd feel the tissue under the skin give protest—which none did.

Although, the male would admit that there was a light soreness on his hand as well—and again with no explanation. Groaning, teal orbs blinked wearily, and tried to open to be full alert; parting the black lashes slowly. Now that he was up, there was no reason to ignore his duty for the day.

"I'm coming Matsumoto," he mumbled, trying to sit up.

There was no response, but he didn't pause to say it louder, besides the pounding didn't stop, even if there was ruffling noises coming from his side of the door, signaling he was awake.

Crack.

He wondered briefly why the woman was being so damn insistent. There was no emergency, judging by the way the banging held no need; so why the Hell was he being pestered? His hands twitched, as if being tickled, catching his attention and blearily looked down.

The fabric under his pale palms felt weird, almost course and like little needles barely pricking the skin. To make the situation worse, it was green. A soft hue of the mentioned color, but it had light dew covering it sparsely.

Last time he checked—his bed wasn't green and nowhere near that kind of horrid hue. Furrowing brows knitted tightly together as he stared at it was some kind of numbness; it was like his brain wasn't processing anything.

When another sonic boom reached his ears, it was like a whip snapping against his back, and the fuzzy vision abruptly clears. It was like punching him in the damn face.

Teal eyes began to focus sand the bedroom within the Soul Society slowly dissipated from the mind completely. The bed turned into the damp earth, the blanket was a white cloak of sorts, with silver metal; and the booming crashes had yet to been identified.

He blinked wearily once more, his memories slow coming as he peered around the meadow over the cloak. It once would've been divine, blessed by Kami himself even, but that just didn't look the case anymore.

Magnificent flowers were up-turned and mangled, like someone had stepped on them with heavy boots. There were indents on the dirt, showing that there had been a weapon usage here—most likely between two people. The tall grass was slaughtered down a foot from its original height, as if a sword decapitated its innocent head.

The stench of lavender and sweet oil was still there but it was fading now that his head wasn't lying on the grass beneath him. That thought made him inwardly smile, for whatever came through here seemed to move around him and off elsewhere and he had unconsciously (no pun intended) saved the few flowers and nature around him.

He had never thought of him as a super-hero of nature. Heh, now he was thinking of those stupid comics Kurosaki once had stored in his room, hidden from Rukia. Though they weren't embarrassing, the guy acted like if anyone found out from Soul Society, his reputation would be ruined.

Giving a smirk and a shake of the head, he cleared the thought of getting revenge on the idiot for always calling him Hitsugaya when it was clearly Captain Hitsugaya. The idea of watching the orange-male beg him not to show anyone the books made him inwardly chuckle. He'd make that bastard his personal butler to serve him ice-cream, with sprinkles. Oh yes, he was that evil.

Crack.

He peered up from his thoughts at the sound and quickly scanned the forest line, trying to spy any life beyond it. However, for now, everything was absolutely still—as if holding their breath. Deciding to try and search the end of the mystery of the noise, he shakily stood up.

Just as he thought, roaring pain shot up his legs in a storm of fury, making them twitch and moan from the weight of his body. Like he was that damn heavy. Leaning against the tree behind him, and put a hand out to the side to grasp a branch for leverage, his hand digging into the bark, he waited for the throbbing to subside.

It was like getting hit by one of those human-transport things—what were they called?—that had eighteen-wheels and huge metal bodies that could easily kill Ichigo if he was in his human body.

When the pain became a mild discomfort and bearable, he stood straight again, trying to breathe deeply to keep calm as he took a step from the tree. Toshiro gritted his teeth when another belt of lightning ran up and down his leg from the action.

It's not as if he couldn't take the pain, but upon waking up and finding that he had no memory from how he received it makes things seem worse. Matsumoto complained of hangovers often, yet remembered nothing from the night before, making her more grumpy and whiny than she normal was. Just thinking about that incompetent woman made his gears grind from all the paperwork she didn't complete last week, which made him in return had to finish it.

He was not a happy camper those days, and made sure to let everyone around him know of it; usually by making his office and unit almost below freezing. Though no one dared came and talked to unless it was about paperwork or meetings, he knew that there was a rumor going around about what put him in such a nasty mood.

Apparently, the tenth division captain had heard about his lieutenant going on a date with another male shinigami and didn't do her job during that time. The gossip mill later stated that he had found out about it, putting him in such a state and causing the whole division feel his unleashed anger by almost freezing to death.

Of course that was all lies and made-up stories; yet how they came up with those ideas made him think of the Women Association within the Seireitei. Hitsugaya had wanted to pay them a visit for it—if he had found their little meeting room first.

Giving a sigh and releasing the dark thoughts, teal orbs gazed downwards, noticing something that he had completely forgotten about. Its body lied within the sheath calmly, and gleamed almost too brightly from the over-head sun. Something twisted almost violently in his gut then, as if it was trying to say, or warn, him.

The mini-captain gave it another scrutinizing stare, attempting to get the weapon to speak whatever—…; he really must be losing his mind. The Zanpakuto had the capability to speak, yes, but it was a part of his soul, so he could freely speak to it at any time.

So why was it only whispering then?

Crack.

His head shot up, thoughts about the sword leaving his brain at that moment. He felt it then, a presence coming straight in this direction at full speed. Toshiro looked around, trying to find something, anything to help him wobble over to his weapon without falling over. He was sure that once his legs tasted the sweet sensation of not being strained, he'd never get up again.

Gritting his teeth and pushing of the trunk of the tall tree, he lurched forward a tiny bit, trying to find his balance—or what's left of it. When that failed, his front met the ground just a distance from his only line of defense from whatever that thing was. To make matters worse, the cloak he had had wrapped around his figure and unfortunately tangling him.

Why did this thing have to be so damn huge? On another note, why did the metal plates look like jewels?

A chuckle reached his ears, encircling them with a shuddering vengeance.

That's when he saw a familiar sight beseeching him at that moment. Also, if he thought his sanity was failing, now it held no doubt. There, standing in the middle of the meadow was someone who had betrayed Soul Society with Aizen.

The man was tall, pale and incredibly creepy. The closer he walked towards the tiny captain, the more pronounced his Reiatsu became—and bygone everything holy—did it send him wanting to spend the rest of his life in Las Noches, away from that man. It tickled the skin to a degree of sliminess and made the wild life that it touched wither.

Silver-almost gray-hair was gleaming and reflecting sunlight strong enough that the ice-user had to narrow his eyes. He couldn't say the same for the other, whose orbs were closed and hidden by those mocking eyelids that gave even the strongest of hero's a shudder.

Then, the thing that tied the whole bad news appearance was the smile. It was sly, thin, and always appeared to be raised because he found something funny. Not only that, but the way it screamed to you that it would show you a grin on the front-side and then stab you in the backside created the mirage of a bipedal, chuckling fox.

Gin Ichimaru.

Uh oh.

The betrayer cocked his head to the side and stopped a few yards away, knowing to keep his distance. "Mornin' there Captain Midget, how'd ya' fair sleeping on the ground?"

Hitsugaya was sure that had he spoke at that moment, the words would be so vile, angry, accusing and beyond profanity, Ichigo would have been proud and even tried to give him tips in the middle of the rant. That idiot never knew when to shut his mouth at the wrong times anyway, so why stop when one of his friends lost their temper?

The ex-Reaper didn't look affected by the weather and temperature dropping around the two, and continued to just watch. Then, upon seeing the cloak keeping the shorty down, he almost lost control over the amusement. The younger looked like a ruffled snow-owl who didn't belong in the apparent heat wave this world was going through. "My, don't ya' know it's so rude to stare?"

That got the other moving, and he watched as the white-haired male struggled in the thing trapping him, almost losing the battle of his emotions as the kid either flopped back onto the ground or made the situation worse by making it more tangled. Gin took a motion forward, and the tiny captain froze, teal orbs watching him very closely while keeping the glare up and at full force.

"Don't you dare come near me." He spat out, not letting heat rise to his face from the embarrassing scene—that fool was never going to see that and not hang it over his head. "Unless you have plans for digesting a Zanpakuto."

The threat went through one ear and out the other, it seemed. "Ya' are so testy today, ya' know it's important to get almost eight hours of sleep, right?"

Toshiro opened his mouth and almost took the bait that was hanging obviously overhead, and then stopped. This was fantastic—it's been so long that he had last seen the man that he forgot about his…odd nature. Back in the days before Aizen's defection, the silver-haired Captain came by his office almost every day if he could make time for it.

However, he never questioned the other's motives and then literally threw the 3rd Division Head out of the Tenth Division; which has only happened once or maybe three times. Usually because that bastard was so skilled in hiding his Reiatsu and slipping away quietly from the un-masked anger from Hitsugaya, and in turn, this put the latter in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

There were some days, yet, that Gin would just saunter in with a Holier-than-thou presence that made the ice-user's skin crawl. One: because something bad always followed that attitude; and two: it constantly makes Toshiro loose brain cells. On these days, the fox would sit in front of his desk and begin a debate session with him about anything and everything that he could possibly think up.

This made little sense to the younger male as to why he would do such a thing when paper-work needed to be accomplished, but he nonetheless found himself countering each strike and banter from the man. Then towards the end, the creepy bastard would put a subtle insult in between arguments that would make the little captain see red and blue. Thus, making Toshiro lose the round and Gin using a swagger to his walk back out the 10th Division.

Teal eyes widened at the hand on his shoulder, breaking the thought process almost immediately. However, before a single protest, shout, or sweat could pass his lips, he felt the cloak give a sharp tug underneath him; and then he twisted and tumbled out.

A groan of pain passed over his shoulder, coming from the phantom wound, yet this time, the mind quickly shut it down before Ichimaru could even get a whisper of it.

"There, all better!" the taller cheered in a successful voice, bouncing on the ball of his feet when he saw the agitated stance of the one currently on the ground. He did not want to get too close to the ice forming around the short body, but hey, a little risk didn't hurt—kept the blood pumping, that's for sure.

Giving a full-on glare that would've shot icicles if it could, Toshiro tried to stand once more, only this time, his body wasn't listening. It was rooted to the spot, and being stubborn from being strained; so giving up for now, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Muscles contracting harshly from the force and he nearly slammed his back into the tree behind him.

The other only grinned back, and put hands on his hips in a taunting manner. "You can't tire already; besides, ya' have been out for so long I thought you were dead."

"You…" He lost steam from the hidden gibe and resignedly crossed his arms; there was no point in losing what little of calmness he had. "How long was I unconscious?"

Gin scratched the back of his head, seeming to not know and then gestured to the spot of where he had originally woken up, "Don't know, I found ya' here about two days ago; been lookin' after ya' since."

Now, he knew that that bastard meant.

"I don't need to be babysat," Hitsugaya spat, physically breathing out seeable carbon dioxide, making it appear like smoke and fog that came from a dragon. The dark emotions were still there and began to wrap around his heart to constrict tightly, "and I certainly don't want to be."

"Oi, it's not like I actually had a choice, little captain." He peered off to the side, ears twitching for any noticeable action or enemies—yet he found out a few hours ago that this place was barely touched by any natives around here—so his main concern was the core residents of this forest.

"Call me that again, I dare you," the other warned, or otherwise you might end up with hypothermia, he mused ominously.

Barely blinking at the promised threat, the ex-shinigami grabbed the cloak off the ground and tossed it to Toshiro, "This was a temperature regulator I had found," stolen, "To keep the heat off ya', since this place is obviously too hot for you."

This man was too sly to just hand something to you and not expect anything in return, and that fact made the whole situation just a little bit odd. Teal orbs darkened, "I doubt you'd go out of your way to get this for me."

"No," was the simple reply and after came after, it made him blink owlishly for a moment—truly surprised—and then began to give the silver-haired a dubious look. "Ya' don't believe me?"

Considering after everything that had transpired between Aizen in the Soul Society, no, he had the claim to not truly trust every word that came out of that mouth. Speaking of which, just got a whole lot closer than the younger would've liked and it only took a second to grasp the fact that the other had moved.

Hissing like a wet kitten, he stuck his foot out quickly, trying to reach the other and at least do some damage especially crossing over his line of personal space. The limb met air when the older stepped back a foot or so, causing Histugaya to bristle at the subtle joke that idiot was implying.

"How about I prove it to you, then?" Gin asked, smiling brightly when the little captain caught onto it. He then pointed to the right hand that was being cradled in the teal scarf the boy wore, "Did ya' see the mark on it?"

The white-haired nodded, eyes narrowing into a threat should the other continue to goof off; he was not in the mood for an insane shinigami that has no common sense when dealing with people interactions. "What about it?"

"Why don't you take another look and tell me what ya' see?" what the hell was the man going on about?

Toshiro reluctantly cast his gaze down and moved his burning hand out of the protection the cloth gave it. Upon seeing it, the dark emotions that enfolded his heart and head started to clear, like clouds after the storm floating off. A sense of calm washed over afterwards, making everything around him still and dead-silent.

There were four other markings encircling his 'x', glowing rather blazingly. Was this the reason why he was in so much pain? Or was it just the weather in this new world having negative effect on him? Casting the questions to the back of his mind, he began to observe the tattoos counterclockwise.

At the top, was a shining, silver fox that was leering straight at him in the most uncomfortable way. It was sitting contently with nine tails swaying back and forth—it was moving?! That's when Toshiro decided that if he ever had a panic attack over this, Ichimaru was going to be the first to die. This new dimension was already getting to him and he had barely woken up from a two-day slumber.

The next was a bright, blue cat that had beaming orbs and sharp claws. It was lying down comfortably, almost appearing to be asleep, somewhat. What mark came next wasn't and animal actually, but a weapon of some sorts; it was black and emerald, had a long thin body and a three-pronged trident on the top. This one wasn't moving and while it didn't necessarily do so, it still had bad news written all over it. It gave him chills just to think about it.

The final and last was just a cracked skull head with one horn and the other supposedly missing. The teeth weren't all there and the hue was slightly off-white, and every few moments, he'd catch the bone-head blinking—blinking—and then rattling as if someone was shaking it or the thing was laughing on its own.

So with all said and done, what did this mean and why did that bastard point it out?

Hitsugaya then thought about how the fox closely resembled Gin and eyed the parading mammal with an abrasive eye. He remembered a few things that the entity said about what his new life would entail. Such as watching over people and helping them attain a better and fuller road that has options they didn't have.

He also guessed the reason for being here is because he was given a second chance also and yet that intention of why was lost on him. The teen gave the other standing across from where he sat another glare, "Mind telling me what your input on all this?"

"Oh shorty," Gin batted a hand at him mockingly, "you're highly smart enough to figure this out, so why should I tell ya'?"

It'd make my life so much easier, he mused with inward grumbling.

/Drift/

A woman who stood tall and beyond proud strolled into a bar nearby. Leaving her huge carriage of luggage that could rival any small apartment building outside with an elderly man watching it. He agreed whole-heartedly to do so, after she asked politely and even grabbed his son that was trying to run off to aid him in doing the task.

Her hair reached her hips in the most sensual way, swinging back and forth with the rigorous way she walked. The hue of the locks that she famously had been well known across Fiore and always remembered once spotted.

They were a bright, crimson red and were also deep enough to resemble blood—which was rightly thought so—since her profession often sometimes called for it. Next, was the silver armor that reflected the sun's shining rays and showed her alliance. The attire was named the Heart Kruez Armor, a golden cross overlapping an emblem on her left breast-plate.

Black cloth that came up to her elbows was hidden by small, metal wings that hooked onto them; with armguards and gloves further down. She wore a navy matte skirt that reached her knees in an elegant way and had on black, leather boots with heels.

For someone that appeared so intimidating, the woman was only 16 in yeas and inexperienced in many things, despite her occupation. People around the country had a wide range of feelings towards the female; from fear and fright to adoration and one-sided love. She was often regarded in the former aspect, however.

The only reason she was allowed into the bar was because this town only served alcohol at dusk hours. Plus, the elderly man from earlier was the owner and had willingly let her in after some persuasion on her part.

So the red-haired sat down at a table in the corner of this seedy place, with expression blank and crossed her legs. Feet were complaining of walking so much after she was late to the train, forcing her to walk to the next town since waiting for the transportation would've taken much too long for her liking.

She brushed her locks to the side and peered at the menu that doubt held promises of an upset stomach and mild disease. Brown orbs glowered in disgust and kept from touch anything to a minimum. There was a pit in her gut yelling quietly from hunger, but she'd be damned if anything from this place was eatable and expired.

Sighing softly, the teen extended her hearing as she sat there unobtrusively, listening for the latest gossip that hadn't hit her ears yet. Keeping up with the news both good and bad from Dark Guilds and Light Guilds was important, if you wanted to stay ahead.

Of course the council and her Guild's Master always supplied her with information but sometimes it's just what she wanted to hear and if it involved the former, then it most definitely wasn't even accurate.

"Did you hear of what Eisenwald is up too now of days?"

Stopping herself from snapping eyes over to the discussing wizards, she crossed her arms and listened to the conversation. This was what the red-head was waiting for and now she was a lead concerning that illegal dark guild that has been pestering the Light for a while. So aside from her S-class mission, she now had another task to partake in.

"Eh, not really, but I do know one thing!"

"Well don't keep me in the dark here, tell me!"

The woman leaned closer in; using her magic to increase her senses as she greedily gathered the whispered information from the taboo words being spoken. Usually, people passing on second-hand conversation often didn't result well and was almost false in every sense of the vocab. However, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, her gut deep down was telling her this was important.

"Apparently, the guild is working with some rogue mages."

"Wha—…?"

"Shush! I know it sounds crazy but someone told me that they spotted the Grim Reaper talking with a man with black hair and green eyes."

"Wait, when you say the Grim Reaper, you mean…"

"But that wasn't the weirdest thing about that other guy; he had tear-tattoos underneath both orbs and was unbelievably pale. Anyway, I don't know if anything was exchanged between the two, but he looked crazy scary."

"I thought Eisenwald has something else up their sleeve by now instead of cooperating with some unknown rogue…"

"There's another meeting at the local bar three towns over. If you're that interested you could join and asked the latest news."

"Dude, that's a bit too crazy!"

The two stood and walked over to the exit, inaudibly continuing the conversation as they opened the door with a ding and left. Afterwards, she stood and followed, only to thank the elderly man outside the door and take her luggage back.

Erza Scarlett made her way to the next Eisenwald meeting; determined to set straight the rest of the information and questions she still had. Fairy Tail will just have to wait.

Oohhh, Miss Titania joins now. What ever shall happen now?

Also, I don't think Toshiro realized what he was wearing. (Which means I forgot to write that scene, sorry, it comes later I guess).

Tell me what you think about this type of writing comparing to my style in my other story.

Or don't.

Which is okay, because either one is fine. I'm going to go get rid of this migraine, bye now.