Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.


He watches her everyday, from the security of his underwater world.

She comes to his lake everyday, unaware of his presence, or his gaze.

He finds her enchanting; he has never seen such glowing flesh and bright eyes up close.

She finds his waters majestic; she comes every afternoon, sometimes with a canvas and art supplies in hand in order to attempt to capture the beauty of the clear water, and its surroundings, with her mixtures of colors.

He remembers their first meeting; or rather, his first glimpse of her after she stumbled into the clearing, at the age of eleven and in search for the soccer ball she had kicked too hard.

He remembers the awed look on her face as she glimpsed the beautiful view before her for the first time, remembers the satisfaction in her eyes as she realized she had found a place of solitude from her village on the opposite side of the forest, remembers the glee that lit up her face when she found her ball nestled between some bushes.

She returns the next day, and he watches as she practices with her ball. She dribbles it between her feet and bounces it with her knee and head, into the air. There are no sounds except for the rustling of the leaves from a cool breeze, the rippling of his waters' surface, and her harsh breathing from hours of dedicated practice. She is determined to prove to the boys in her village that she is just as good at sporting as them.

Months pass, and she begins to mature. She may still act like a man, but her body is changing. At one time, her shirt slips slightly because she bends down to grab her ball, and he notices she has begun to wear bindings for her growing chest. She also discontinues her wearing of shorts, because he is not the only one to notice these changes in her; the men in her village are crass and eye her. Although she can take care of herself, she feels more comfortable having their gazes off of her figure.

Years pass, and her father forces her to begin their village's equivalent of a cotillion class because she is not feminine enough. Or so he infers from the grumbling and muttering that passes her lips one day.

He feels upset because she is obviously unhappy, but cannot help but lose his breath when she arrives at the lake still wearing the dress she was forced into to learn ballroom dancing. He has never taken much interest in humans and their cultures before, so he does not know what they consider attractive, but he is sure she is what they call beautiful.

More time passes, and she decides to take a swim one day, because the sun's heat is bearing down on her. He looks away when she strips to nothing but her undergarments, but cannot help but enjoy the feel of her figure entering the waves of his lake. He can sense the heat coming off of her flesh and can taste her skin as its aroma mixes with the water. He decides the sensation is intoxicating.

He has "tasted" other humans before; children who have fallen in or travelers who decide to soak their tired feet. He has always found humans' taste to be disgusting, but cannot help but be delighted by hers.

After years of observing her, he feels as if he knows her, inside and out; how ironic, because she does not even realize his existence.

But he knows this is to be expected. He has never shown himself to her, and for good reason. After all, no human would think themselves sane after encountering the dragon spirit of the lake they hold so dear.


The idea for this story just came to me randomly, so I decided to post it to see how well it is recieved.

If you want to know what Toushiro looks like, just imagine Kohaku from Spirited Away, because that's how I pictured him in my mind when I wrote this. And you must know what Kohaku looks like, because Spirited Away is the cutest movie in the world, so I'm sure everyone has seen it! If you haven't seen it, I highly suggest you do; I'm sure you'll love it.