DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach! Tite Kubo does! YAY!

I just felt the need to write this. It's my very own little crack theory of where Jinta came from! (Inspired by one of the Bleach boards here.)

Enjoy!

Hitsugaya raised his fist, preparing to knock on the door…

…but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

'Returning after all these years… how can I just waltz in and take him away?'

He moaned in anxiety, clutching his head in his hands.

'I have to do this… I have to!'

And with a stupendous effort, he knocked three times on the door.

…

It slid open.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

When it was finally open, he found himself looking at a little girl in a long pink skirt and cheap 'Urahara Shop' T-shirt.

His heart plummeted.

'I've left him here – in this place of poverty! What kind of a life must he be living?'

Clearing his throat, he said, "Hello, may I speak to Jinta please?"

The girl regarded him through big, watery eyes.

'Oh hell, what have I done?'

"This way."

--

Several minutes later, he was sitting a little table, waiting for Jinta to finish his chores.

'They've enslaved him!' He thought, 'He must be treated like a servant, like the little girl at the door!'

Come to think of it, the owner of the shop, Urahara, was a well known pervert…

'NO!'

The door slid open, and before him stood Jinta.

The captain of the tenth division looked him up and down, slowly appraising his features.

'Same cheap Urahara Shop T-shirt, rolled-up pair of jeans, scuffed trainers… what have I done?!'

"Jinta," he whispered huskily, giving the boy a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry to have left you here for so long. I had no idea how much you would suffer."

"What the hell are you talking about, shorty?"

He flinched, but reminded himself that he still had not revealed his identity.

"Jinta, I know this will be a shock to you, but I am your father."

…

…

…

The scream could be heard all the way from the Soul Society.

"SNOWMAN! SHORTY! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU MY FATHER!"

Toshiro started backwards in alarm,

"But surely you must have noticed the resemblance!"

"Um… no."

"We have the same spiky hair, the same height, the same expression…"

"NO! I REFUSE TO BE RELATED TO YOU!"

"Now, now, what's all the fuss about?"

The two of them whipped round to see Urahara poking his head around the door.

"Aha! I see you have told Jinta all about his heritage!"

"YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS?!"

Urahara did his trademark giggle.

"Of course I did! You were an accident between Shiro-chan and his vice-captain, Matsumoto!"

"WHAT!?"

Hitsugaya coughed, slightly annoyed that he was being ignored.

"Didn't you ever wonder where you got your mysterious hair-colour from?"

"But…"

"Everyone knows white plus orange equals red!"

"NO IT DOESN'T!"

"It does if you're a shinigami!"

"THAT MAKES NO SENSE!"

Hitsugaya coughed again.

"In any case, I've decided to bring you back to the Soul Society. You will become a shinigami and live your life there."

"NO!"

"Come along, your mother is dying to meet you!"

"NO!"

And with that, Jinta was dragged back to the Soul Society, with Ururu, Urahara and the apron guy bidding him a fond farewell.

The End!

I can safely say that was my worst fic ever!

All sorts of reviews welcome! Even flames!

YAY!