Yes, yes, I'm back and writing again, just in time for NaNoWriMo 2013. Read my profile for details, etc. I'm not big on writing author's notes, I find they detract from the story, but if you have questions, ask away and ye shall receive an answer.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Prompt 1 - Introduction

His first memories of the Soul Society weren't anything to write home about. He had been very young, very overwhelmed by memories from his time alive, and the horror of his early death.

He remembered cold, so cold it burned like fire – but he had died in the deep winter, after all, and the seasons of the world of the shinigami mirrored those of the world of the living. He remembered abject terror – his uncontrollable desire to run and hide whenever another soul came near. He remembered his unadulterated terror whenever someone unsheathed their sword.

He was always cold, always hungry, always alone. He subsisted on whatever scraps he could fine, gradually learning to hide any emotion behind an expressionless mask. Some of the less-savory sorts in the Rukongai got off on beating children, or doing worse. It was a mistake he didn't plan on making twice.

He remembered meeting Granny.

He had been somewhere in one of the higher districts – he couldn't remember why. Likely, he had been tracking down some traces of food. It didn't matter, it wasn't important anymore.

He had been crouched in the lee of a building, sheltering from a vicious rain storm. The wind was howling, and he had been frozen and starving, wishing it would just end, for what seemed an eternity. He was so tired, what would it matter if he just went to sleep and didn't wake?

It had taken him a few moments to realize that a cloak had been draped over his skinny shoulders, and that his shivers were starting to abate. He had looked up with bleary teal eyes into the milky cataracts of the old woman.

"Poor dear, come with me and we'll get you warmed right off," she had promised as she had led the dazed child to her cottage.

She had done as she had promised, tucking his unresisting form into a veritable nest of blankets, a warm brick tucked in them to keep them warm throughout the night.

He remembered asking her why, and he remembered and treasured the response, even past his promotion to the captaincy of the Tenth Division.

"You reminded me of one of my own."