Bleach 1. Stopping the Fall

Author's rambling:

Yosh! This is one of my first attempts at Bleach ff, so… have fun!

It's gonna be sort of a one-shot series centered around the lives of Gin and Matsumoto in Rokungai. Probably pretty tragic at times or so some people have told me XD If there are any mistakes concerning charas, please tell me!

Now go and r&r!

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

Slowly, heavy lids slid open, revealing a thin line of glassy blue. A bang of golden-red hair fell across her eyes, blocking her sight of the long smoke column rising above her head and ascending towards the peaceful blue sky.

Cracked lips parted slightly as their owner inhaled a shallow breath, tasting burned wood. Carefully, she wet her lips, her nose crinkling up slightly as she recognized the sweet scent of rotting corpses and flowers.

A growl erupted within her, echoing through her mind, reverberating within her skull and finally ceasing into nothingness.

It wasn't the growling protest of her stomach for the lack of food. It had been far too long for her body to be still longing for such profound things as food or water.

The deep growl seemed to come from within her head, like a part of her soul unable to express itself with human words, instead merely producing those guttural sounds. Like a panther, waiting in the dark underbrush of her mind, ready to strike, ready to fight.

Her head lolled to the side as her tired orbs opened further, the slightly blurred vision of her scorched surroundings finding their way into her consciousness. She could make out two shadows lying some ten meters away from her, motionlessly.

Two black silhouettes moved erratically across the bulk of one corpse and her empty stomach churned as she realized that the first crows had paid their visit to the dead souls, before their spirit would finally disintegrate into blissful nothingness, leaving behind the living dead to wander the dirty streets in aimless disorder.

Rokungai was no place for the living.

Death, despair, darkness. An abyss void of any warmth and security.

No. No place for the living, especially not for the youngest. Children were far less worth than any street dog roaming the alleys. Running away, stealing, searching the trash for _anything_ to eat. The fate of a child could end with a merciful blow to the head or with a long, painful life in a cage or brothel.

Focusing her gaze on her outstretched hand, the young girl bent her fingers experimentally. The bony joints protruding out from underneath white skin cracked loudly in the near silence of the early dawn.

Another low growl rumbled through her mind, but it seemed even that strange voice had given up as the sound ebbed away into silence.

Would she finally reach the end of this fateful life? Would it end here on the dirty ground of a backyard, her stomach empty, soul crumpled and crippled like the burning buildings surrounding her like the pillars of a prison?

There was no remorse within her, no fear, no anger. Only the wish for oblivion and peace. She was longing for the feeling of darkness to claim her consciousness, her eyes never being forced to open again. She had seen and felt enough destruction for one person to bear.

In the back of her head, the girl noticed the sound of feet drawing closer across the charcoaled remains of the field and houses, the reiatsu of a stranger accompanying their owner. But her mind was already wandering again. To a far away place. With a meadow and uncountable flowers and the scent of fresh water. To a place of light and warmth.

The crunching of feet stopped and a hand appeared suddenly in front of her unfocused eyes, holding something wrinkled and brown in their small grasp.

"Here, eat up."

Too tired to be startled, the girl with the striking blue eyes only stared at the proffered fruit, her consciousness unable to understand what was happening, unable to grasp the impact of what was dangling in front of her dirty face.

"If you collapsed due to hunger, you must have spiritual power."

The voice sounded pleasant. Almost dreamlike, considering there hadn't been one word spoken to her with a calm voice for months. Only yelling and roaring. Threats, abuses. Moans of pain and despair. And crying.

Sobbing children everywhere.

With a supreme effort, her half opened eyes moved up the long skinny arm, finding the most peculiar smile she had ever seen. A boy her age was standing slightly bent above her, pressing half a dozen wrinkled fruits protectively to his chest, eyes crinkled up as he grinned warmly down on her.

"You… too…?" She asked the lean figure in a raspy voice, far too tired to even feel any gleam of gratitude or suspicion.

"Yup. Me, too." Came the cheerful reply, sounding so off in the scorched, oppressive landscape surrounding the couple.

A ray of light flittered through the leafless branches of the dead magnolia behind the boy, illuminating his mop of hair and for the first time, she recognized the unique silvery color.

Again his cracked lips parted and as his words reached her ears and the droning nothingness that had accompanied her for so long ceased to exist for the first time. "Ichimaru Gin. Nice to meet you."

The warmth of his smile felt alien to her soul, silencing even the dangerous growling of the black cat.

"Gin…" She allowed the syllable to roll across her tongue, tasting the name as she listened to the sound of her voice slowly fading away.

"What a strange name."

The smile vanished abruptly, a bewildered frown appearing instead as he cocked his head slightly to the side. Looking quizzically down at where she was lying, he looked like he had yet to decide whether to be offended or plainly surprised.

That boy looked almost comical and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she devoured the warmth that spread out through her body, toes tingling pleasantly.

The brown fruit was still dangling invitingly in front of her face.

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

FINIS!?


	2. Sold Souls

Author's rambling:

Thanks for the reviews guys! I appreciate your opinion a great deal and hope you'll be happy with this part as well.

Now r&r!

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

The two children were sitting beside each other with their backs against the rough wooden wall, enough space between them to allow another three kids their size to join their merry, silent gathering.

The girl had her legs drawn close to her flat chest, her chin resting on her scraped knees, as she stubbornly stared ahead at the small fireplace, the last clouds of grey smoke rising from the extinguished coals.

"So…" Gin had never been good at starting conversations.

Having lived in a world like Rukongai did that to one's social abilities and after a while, the only words that would sometimes leave one's mouth were curses, abuses and screams of pain. He had given up on the latter after his second broken hand and the umpteenth broken rib.

The girl eyed the still figure sitting somewhere in her peripheral vision carefully, feeling new anger bubbling dangerously in her stomach.

The two of them had only recently found out about each other's existence and had been together (in not so close proximity…) ever since, having found a shack at the edge of the district behind a tree line. It was the closest she had come to calling any kind of accommodation (ranging between a simple bed made of branches to a shack that had formally been a toilette) a safe place. Well, relatively safe…

Why they stuck together? Even after several nights of contemplating and grumbling, she hadn't come up with one single explanation so far. It was just that… _he_ was different.

"Uhm… " Gin tried again, either totally oblivious to the glare the girl was directing at him, or plainly ignoring it. His lips parted and closed rhythmically as he thought hard about his options. What could he possibly say to a near-stranger, that was, to cap it all, angry with him for… why was she actually angry with him?

"Why're ya angry, Rangiku?"

It was still strange to hear him mutter her name in a way that sounded almost as if they had known each other for a very long time. Too familiar. His voice implied that he knew her. But no one knew her. No one… She shook off the feeling with a motion of her head and straightened visibly, sitting cross legged as she stared at him with narrowed eyes.

"You could have died, you moron!"

Eyebrows rising to unknown heights in bewilderment, Gin watched her perplexed as her jaw muscles clenched and unclenched. His mouth formed an "Oh", but no sound left his lips for a rather long second.

"I… what?" He really had no clue. Which moment exactly was she referring to anyway? When he had stolen the meat yesterday? Or when he had had to swim across the river this morning to escape that masked monster?

"Never go into one of those gambling shacks again!"

Oh. That one.

He got up with a sigh, silvery hair falling across his eyes as he made his way to the smoking fireplace. With a stick he poked the gleaming coals absently, his already dirty hands turning even grayer with the dust.

"But I won us some money, Rangi-"

His eyes caught sight of her tired face, streaks of dirt coloring her cheeks and forehead blackish and a long gash from the time before they had met ran down from her left eye to the corner of her mouth. Her tired orbs stared back at him and for the first time in, well, ever since he could remember, Gin felt bad for having caused someone to worry about him.

The stick was forgotten momentarily.

"I'd rather get nothing to eat, than watch you getting killed by those monsters." She pressed out and with an air of finality, she got up, tied her golden red hair into a bun and walked out of their 'home' into the cool afternoon. Her poorly sewn yukata barely reached above her knees and Gin felt a tightening feeling in his guts as he remembered a picture of a girl he had seen with one of those men earlier.

What was it with him and that girl, Rangiku?

He listened to her retreating feet for another while until he could barely feel her reiatsu anymore. She had never gone far enough away from him for his senses to loose grip on her energy pattern.

Sighing, he let himself fall back on his hunches and stared at his dirty, skinny hands.

"I s'pose it's way easier to sell my soul than yers…"

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

FINIS?!

Thanks for reading so far!

I've already planned the next few chapters and lets just say… hmm… I'd love to see _that_ in the manga! Ikorose, shinsou!


	3. Alone in the Dark

Author's rambling:

Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm glad you've returned to read on!

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

Matsumoto sat on the porch, legs dangling over the edge as her bare toe drew a circle into the sandy ground. She had been sitting there for almost an hour by now, having watched the sun on its descend towards the horizon.

Her stomach growled, but she had been much hungrier in her afterlife, had been close to starving for several times already and just because her body hadn't gotten a good dinner within the last two days, didn't mean she would wimp out any time soon.

Along the way she was walking with Gin, she had gotten the nag of how to control her reiatsu, preventing it from leaking out of her pores and leaving her drained. How she had acquired such an ability in only a few months was still beyond her, but she had the feeling that Gin was the major source for her new found energy that made her go forwards and not look back.

It was then that she felt it.

The energy signature, she had been waiting for almost the whole day. The soft, slightly irregular reiatsu of her friend invaded the shack and filled Matsumoto with something akin to relief and security.

The last rays of dirty yellow light framed his form as he suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was late and he stepped into their refuge without as much as a single glance into her direction. Matsumoto instantly noticed his dirty hair and face. His yukata, as badly sewn as it may have been before, was ragged and torn.

Two dead grey fishes dangled from one hand. In the other one, he was holding a short katana.

He mumbled an apology for being late in a slightly slurred voice, tossed the cadavers into an empty bowl and wandered silently like a shadow into the corner farthest away from her.

Frowning, the girl with the reddish hair got up from where she had been sitting, cocking her head slightly to one side, as she regarded the boy with questioning eyes.

On first impression, the sword looked expensive, the hilt wrapped in blue silk and the polished scabbard made of pure white horn. It looked off, seeing such a beautiful and terrifying weapon being held in a vice grip by the dirty boy and Rangiku had the growing feeling of trepidation that something was really off about this whole situation.

The cat in her mind growled its assent, sounding almost like blood singing in her ears. Matsumoto ignored the panther pointedly this time. She was way too angry with that stupid Gin to find the nerve to listen to the growling feline right then.

How had he gotten his hands on such a katana? Matsumoto couldn't imagine someone had actually left the obviously expensive sword lying somewhere in the dirt. Had Gin stolen it? But that would mean, that the owner was probably hot on his pretty obvious trail (because, to be frank, camouflaging or better leaving no signs of his existence behind, was not an ability, Gin had at any point of his life called part of his repertoire).

Turning around fully, she ignored their supposed dinner for now and watched the boy for a rather long moment in silence until she thought, she would slap him upside down for not even making a motion that he was fine and unharmed.

"Gi-"

"'m tired, Rangiku. Gonne hit da hay."

With that muttered, Gin turned around on his mat with his back facing towards her. The katana was still clasped in his hands, knuckles having turned even whiter from the death grip. He left her standing at the porch, mouth gaping open in befuddlement at his strange behavior.

Feeling her nerves running thin was the best sign for her to not pursue the matter for now. If he wanted his ass whipped by a pack of murdering men, then so be it! There was no chance in hell the noble he had stolen that sword from would be laughing off the loss without seeing the thief's head protruding from a bloody stick.

Huffing, Rangiku unrolled her own straw mat and lay down. Closing her eyes, she tried not to notice how her mind seemed to be drawn to the sword, the growling of the panther having turned into a longing purr.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The two of them woke early this morning. Nothing special about that actually, because they always got up even before the sun had decided to rise. Getting a head start on the next chapter of survival was their prior motive for tuning their bodies and minds on high alertness every single day.

Even in the most serene nights did she wake at the slightest noise. A howling dog, a howling man. The creaking of the old magnolia or the death song of a starving kitten.

But today, their day started in the middle of the night.

A voice startled Rangiku out of her light sleep into awareness so suddenly, that she needed almost a full second to understand, that she had already sat up on her straw mat.

"Shuddup… please… shut yer friggin' mouth!" The sleep-laden words echoed in the near silence of the shack, making Matsumoto's heart skip a beat in anxiety. Gin having a nightmare was probably nothing special. Nightmares were the reason why sleeping would never be as mind curing and body relaxing as it was probably supposed to be for anyone here in this district.

But the way he was mumbling and yelling at his imagination to leave him, made the blood in her veins run cold for a reason, she had yet to uncover.

Suddenly, Gin sat bolt upright, heavy pants heaving his chest as he stared ahead at the black wall, face hidden behind sweaty strands of silver.

"G-Gin?" She asked tentatively, not intending to frighten him with her voice as she fought with herself whether to get up or leave him some room.

The panting stopped abruptly, his head turning around to seek out the owner of the familiar voice. In the moonlight, Matsumoto could see the metal of the S-shaped cross guard glint in the moonlight that penetrated the makeshift door.

Without another word, Gin jumped up from his sheets, running past her into the cool night with the katana pressed against the soaked front of his yukata.

Flustered, Matsumoto felt his reiatsu vanishing in the darkness, leaving behind a massive amount of disturbed and disordered energy.

Unable to organize her thoughts, she sat there, hoping against the feeling of defeat, that he would come back in a few minutes… return to her side… won't leave her alone again…

Six hours later, he still hadn't returned.

De-scaling the fishes, Matsumoto stared out into the distance thoughtfully.

Gin didn't return that day.

And he didn't the day afterwards.

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

FINIS!?


	4. Ikorose

Author's notes:

Sequel to the last chapter! Not much to say, except for a lil warning: this contains implied violence and lots and lots of angst!

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

Faster.

Her breath came out in short gasps.

Faster!

Why wouldn't her body obey her?

_Faster_!

In her attempts to get more oxygen into her lungs, she hiccupped and coughed hard. Tears sprang to her wide eyes as her chest started to burn from the strain, her free hand flying to her sternum and pressing against it as she inhaled deeply.

Her legs couldn't move any faster.

The noises of yelling and screaming got louder, stomping feet drumming an irregular beat that seemed to match the pattern of her heart.

Dashing around another corner, she jumped across a wooden box filled to the brim with kitchen trash, a sight she would have normally stopped for to rummage through in hope of finding something edible.

The sounds of running men didn't cease. It actually intensified a few notches as their abuses reverberated from the walls lining the narrow alleyway.

Another corner. Right, then left. The houses began to thin out, leaving room for some backyards with pigs and goats. She almost crashed into a group of picking hens, barely avoiding the birds by climbing across a fence in sheer panic.

She landed on the muddy ground with a soft thud, dirt splashing against her legs and forming long dots on her bare skin.

"Over there!!" She heard an excited voice yell somewhere behind the fence. "Surround her!!"

Puffs of condensed air left her lungs as her vision began to blur from the straining flight. Her knees threatened to buckle and she had to keep her body upright by pressing her hands against her trembling thighs.

Her blood was humming a steady tune in her ears, resembling the droning noise of a waterfall hitting solid stone.

'Get up!' A voice growled inside her mind.

'Move!' It ordered again.

But there was nowhere to escape to.

No refuge. No hiding place. Her path had ended in the dirty pigpen with nowhere to run to.

Tears brimmed in her burning eyes as she listened to the men surrounding her cage methodically. They were at least six. Bulky, aggressive, sickening. They were here to take her with them.

What for, Matsumoto couldn't even think about.

The daily fate of many young girls and boys had finally caught up to her and she wasn't even prepared for it. A woman had once told her to be ready, because survival in Rukon as a female without a male protector was close to impossible without selling one's body to a brothel or even worse.

Desperation covered her mind like a white sheet, salty tears cascading down her dirty cheeks as the door to the sty opened and a huge man entered. She pressed her form into the corner farthest away from him, trying to blend into the construction or simply dissolve into thin air.

"Ya gave us quite a hard time, lil one." The man drawled, not even attempting to hide the large knife in his hand. Behind him, another two followed inside, accompanying their leader like bloodhounds.

Her blue eyes found no peace, her gaze rushing from the ground to the fence and finally to the bright sky.

Why couldn't she turn into a bird and fly away…

"Why don'cha come alon' and be a nice girl to us, huh?"

The words made her stomach churn and she had to gulp down the bitter bile rising in her throat. Naked fear clawed at her consciousness, eyes roaming the fence in wild disorder as the three men closed in on her.

She watched terrified as the huge one right in front of her wiped away some drool with his hairy arm, grinning widely as she sank down and started to sob uncontrollably.

She didn't want this to happen. She wanted to live in that shack until she died as an old woman. She wanted to smile at the sight of blossoming cherry trees. She wanted to never be alone again. Why was she so alone? Where was he?

_Where was he?_

Where was Gin?

A large hand closed around her upper arm and Matsumoto froze. She turned even paler as the man pulled her upright with brute force, one of her straw sandals staying stuck in the mud. She stared wide-eyed into his glazed ones and suddenly, there was nothing else on her mind.

The fear was gone. The growling had stopped.

She didn't even hear the gurgling sound from a slit throat behind the fence.

Nowhere to run.

Blood sprayed into her face like crimson rain, dripping down her chin and mixing with the puddle of water she was standing in.

The muscles of the fingers wrapped around her arm started to spasm and finally went slack, letting go of her as the arm fell to the ground.

A wild scream echoed across the pigpen, but she needed a second to realize that it hadn't been torn from her throat. The bulky man sank to his knees, the hand that had formally held the knife clawing at his severed arm stump. Bright red blood pulsed out of the clean cut in synch with his heartbeat.

Matsumoto could barely see the man's white face.

A pair of thin legs stood in front of her where she was kneeling in the mud. The purple torn yukata brought new tears to her eyes as she realized who had come to safe her.

In his right hand, her savior was holding a bloodied short katana.

"G-Gin…" Matsumoto pressed out between sobs, getting up slowly. Her vision was too blurred to see him tense in anticipation as another three men entered.

He was here.

The growling cat bared its fangs at the fight that lay ahead.

"Sorry, Ran." His voice sounded far away. It was so soft and warm, a stark contrast to the crimson color of his hands. "I didn't mean to make ya go thru this."

Hiccupping, she wiped away the tears distorting her vision as she shook her head.

He was here. She was no longer alone.

"Run." Her breath caught in her throat at his order and his wild, flaring reiatsu engulfed her like a heavy mist.

"B-but-"

"Run, Rangiku." His tone softened again and his head turned slightly around as he eyed her sideways. A small smile played around his lips as his eyes opened a thin line, revealing light blue-green orbs.

"I'll see ya later."

Matsumoto watched as he moved forward, katana rising slowly from his side as the cursing men drew closer. His lean form looked frighteningly small in comparison to them, their knives and swords glinting in the light as they approached Gin wearily.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw the arm of the leader spasm sporadically, index finger pointing at the fence.

The young girl didn't look back, closing her eyes against the sight of the only person who had ever meant anything to her swing his sword down in a wide arch.

She climbed the obstacle in three strides, landing beside a still warm corpse of one of her pursuers. The tears were still streaming down her cheeks when she started to run down the alley again, the noises of yelling men and screams of pain accompanying her like an echo from hell.

She didn't stop running even as she stepped into a broken shard of a bowl and searing pain exploded in her bare foot.

She kept on running even as her body disobeyed her again, black dots dancing across her vision, muscles burning from the strain.

Matsumoto ran until she had reached the old magnolia where she had first met Gin.

A lonely bird sat in the leafless branches, singing its beautiful melody as she broke down in brilliant despair.

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

FINIS!?

I can't explain where this has come from, but before I knew it, I had written it down in one session. Hope you enjoyed reading this! Don't forget to review to let me know, how much I messed up with this one n.n


	5. Innocence Lost

Author's rambling:

Was gone for some time.

This is the sequel to the last chapter! Hope to be able to entertain you some more with this!!

After the great Kubo-sensei has started his grande revelation of everybody's past, this won't be too close to the truth, but well… I don't care! But the manga is the absolute crème de la crème and I am sitting on hot coals every week for the next chapter! Though that damn countdown is making me feel sick with the thought of slowly but surely having to face the end… T.T

Thanks to everybody who has found the time to drop a review so far! Your opinion was greedily devoured!! XD

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

"Wiped out."

"Slaughtered!... In a pigpen!"

"Th-there was s-so much blood…"

"Hush! Not in front of the children…"

Matsumoto ducked under a fence, ran through a dirty backyard and climbed across a cart parked in front of the wooden door.

Hastily, she dashed across the open street, whizzing past a couple of women gossiping in whispered voices and behind callused hands. In the corner of her eyes, she noticed two figures in black shihakushos wandering down the line of poorly erected houses, katanas dangling by their sides in a silent threat.

They were swarming the district like roaches, sticking their noses into every open door and looking under every pebble for their prey.

Her breathing grew heavier as Matsumoto ran full speed down an alley, heading for the last shacks marking the end of the village. She ignored the strange look she received from another shinigami, wishing silently they'd just all leave again. Go back to their beautiful Seireitei and leave them just alone.

They hadn't been particularly interested in their needs in the past and now, she didn't need their services as well. She knew why or better what they were here for. They were after _him_.

Rangiku had been waiting near their home all night long, having watched the shack from the shadows as she had hid behind barely green bushes for him to return.

He had promised to meet her there, but in the end, he hadn't returned.

No longer able to stay still, she had decided to look for him. On her quest, she had heard the first rumors after she had entered the busy streets of the district.

There had been a massacre. Seven men dead. Found slaughtered in a muddy pigpen with no traces of their murderer.

There had been no shock at hearing the news from the frightened women, no surprise at the knowledge that someone was actually able to do such a cruel thing. Only raw fear for _his_ wellbeing.

They had mentioned seven men. Their weapons lying scattered around them. Unused.

But no word about _him_.

He must have gone into hiding, Matsumoto reasoned with her anxious self, lips pursed into a thin line as she headed for the last place she hoped to find him. Until then, her hunt had been without success and she hadn't even come across the slightest trace of his existence.

The river was close. She could smell the water and hear the soft murmuring as the masses of clear liquid made their way along their long ago defined course.

The two of them had gone there a few times to fish or catch rats, sitting often enough silently in the high branches of a widow with empty stomachs, but with a content smile on their lips, cherishing and sharing the silence and solitude.

The noises of Rukongai faded away until only a hateful memory remained. The river came into sight and Matsumoto's eyes wandered along the grass lining the stretch of running water. A nearby flock of birds exploded into a buzzing cloud of activity as she jumped across a rock, panting heavily in synch with her pounding heart.

What would she do if she didn't find him here?

The question had been echoing inside her mind ever since she had started to look for him. The self-reproach and self-accusations were gnawing at her consciousness and forcing hot tears to form in her eyes now and then.

It had been her fault that he had been forced to even lift that damn sword! Her fault that they were hunting him! Her fault that he had become a murderer…

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Two small brown mice scurried away in fearful disorder, but the young girl paid them no heed.

Her attention had focused entirely on a dark red spot in front of her that had appeared out of the nowhere. As if it had fallen from the skies.

The blood was crusted, the crimson color having already turned into blackish red.

Her eyes widened in fear as she found another larger dot some feet ahead. As she examined it more closely, she noticed the in blood colored imprint of a toe.

Rangiku's stomach knotted painfully, cold fear clawing at the last traces of her resolution.

Slowly, she followed the irregular pattern of the crimson stained grass and ground until she came across a larger puddle. Something had fallen to the ground there, a corner of the red area smeared into a long line as the lost item had been picked up again and dragged across the ground for a few seconds.

It could have been anyone, Rangiku tried to tell herself to calm down the rioting panther inside of her mind. Maybe a hunter or a wounded animal dragging itself to a silent place to die. Biting her bottom lip, she followed the trail carefully, noting the bent grass stalks and slight depressions in the soft ground caused by small feet supporting a light body. One foot bare, the other sandaled.

A noise ahead brought her to a standstill. It had come from behind the trunk of a tall maple tree. As if somebody had taken a deep breath.

"He-hello?" She asked tentatively, one hand fisted into the material of her old yukata. Very slowly, she closed the distance between the last red dot and the trunk, one hand extending to press against the cool bark.

Craning her neck, she looked around the tree and froze.

A choked sound escaped her throat unintentionally and her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

She watched his back for the longest minute, just staring at him, trying to breathe through her nose as her stomach churned threateningly.

He was sitting at the very edge of the river, knees drawn to his chest and his chin resting on his folded arms. His gaze was glued to a spot somewhere in the growling water, far away.

Beside him, the short katana was lying. The blade was slightly revealed, glinting dully in the bright sunlight.

Tears started to blur her vision as she took an insecure step forward.

"Gin?" She tried softly, ignoring the slight vibrating of her voice as her throat constricted.

His bony shoulders tensed at hearing her utter his name, but he made no other move, still sitting there with his back towards her as she approached silently.

So much blood.

Not a single drop belonging to him.

He was coated in it, his hair clotted with the crimson liquid that had long since dried. His skin bore no longer the pale color she had come to wonder about, but was inked ruby.

The sword lay in a still damp puddle of darkening blood.

Avoiding stepping into any blood, Matsumoto walked around the katana and crouched down with her back against the maple tree. She was unsure of how to proceed, concern clouding her judgment at seeing his unfocused eyes staring ahead into nothingness.

Slowly, she allowed her arm to extend towards his shoulder, but the second her finger touched his skin, his whole frame jerked around, looking like a puppet pulled back by invisible strings.

His eyes met hers and she stopped breathing.

Wild, panicked blue.

Like a fox backed into a corner, looking like he had yet to decide whether to strike or try to escape.

"Gin, it's me…" She tried in a calm tone, locking eyes with him as she tried to ignore the raw fear in his wide orbs. His breathing was ragged and his right hand wandered across the ground in wild disorder, feeling for the sword lying in front of her.

"Please. Say something." The tears she had been holding back since yesterday, started to fall down her cheeks, forming dark dots on her yukata and in the sand. A sob escaped her throat as she watched him edge away from her.

His eyes remained focused on her face, jaw muscles clenched. When his bare foot touched the hilt of the bloodied katana, his hand shot across the ground, lean fingers closing around the hilt and pulling the blade out of the tainted sheath.

The formally light blue silk wrapping had turned red, matching the color of his small hand.

With a shriek, Matsumoto jumped up just as Gin scrambled into a standing position. The point of the metal weapon leveled at her chest, trembling in synch with his violently shaking hand.

His reiatsu flared up and ebbed away, the peaks almost too high for Matsumoto to bear. There was still that strange darkness engulfing his being, Matsumoto's insides churning from the suffocating pressure.

Crying uncontrollably, she stared through blurry eyes as he took a step backwards, preparing himself to flee like a wild animal.

"Please." She sobbed in a broken voice, hoping the carefree boy she had come to rely on was still hidden behind the dirty silver strands of hair and the fearful eyes.

But all she could see was a frightened, broken boy standing there, caked in blood without the slightest trace of humanity in his wild gaze.

She didn't know why, but suddenly she was moving.

She didn't see the blade or the dried blood. There was no sound as she rushed forward. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his tensed form before she even realized what she was doing.

"I'm so sorry!" She yelled into his chest, hot tears burning in her closed eyes as she held him desperately against herself. "Please… Please don't leave me alone!"

In her state she didn't realize that the darkness retreated from his body.

She didn't notice how his right arm sank slowly to his side, his shoulders slumping as tense muscles slowly relaxed. Matsumoto didn't hear the dull sound as the katana fell from his loose grip into the soft sand.

She kept on sobbing into the stained front of his yukata, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra. Apologizing and begging.

A hand on her back made her stop abruptly, the words stuck in her throat as she felt the featherlike touch. It stayed there for a very long moment, when suddenly his body went lax and the couple sank down onto their knees.

"Ran?"

Gulping down another sob, Matsumoto nodded her head against his chest, hands holding onto his yukata for dear life.

Something wet splashed on top of her head, followed by another drop of warm liquid.

"Ran?" Gin asked again in an insecure voice as his arms came up to enfold her in an embrace of his own.

"I've left you… Forgive me…" He continued in a broken, tired voice, hands digging into her yukata. "I-I have come to save you."

Opening her brimming eyes slightly, she stared at the blood stained katana lying beside them.

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

FINIS?!

Hope ya liked it! Feel free to r&r!


	6. Silver Fox & Blue Sky

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?


	7. Lucky Numbers

Author's rambling:

Sumimasen!! Has been some time since I last updated, but I had quite a lot to do. Hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

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

Sometimes he wondered.

Why was he here again?

How had he died in the _real_ world?

Did that ominous world actually exist?

They were all like shooting stars. They appeared with a bright light and without a defined course, with no aim. Disappearing into nothingness with no-one having taken notice of its existence.

He would look at the sky – no matter the hour, no matter the weather- and frown at nothing in particular.

Had he been born into a caring family? Been embraced in warm, secure arms? Been loved by a mother?

For the sake of it, he couldn't remember. Sometimes he thought he could see a pair of blue eyes when he closed his own and concentrated hard enough, but that was probably more his imagination than reality.

What he did remember, was a time, when he had just gotten the nag of playing cards in one of the many dilapidated gambling shacks. He had been able to win some money; not enough to survive, but he had been intent on getting better.

He had been aware of the danger. Desperate men surrounded him, ready to kill for a crumb of dry bread, but he hadn't been any better. A stray dog that had been abandoned by the world, eyes hollow with the knowledge that he had been left alone.

"Number?"

The dark voice of the man in front of him had pulled him out of his musing.

"What?" He had asked back in hope the man would explain the rules of the game he had never played before until then.

"The dices! Say a fuckin' numba or get da hell outta here, brat!"

A number? Staring at the box where four dices –two blue and two brown- were resting concealed in the dark, he had started to doubt his luck once more.

"Patience's runnin' thin, kid!" The man had growled dangerously and the men around him –their bets all been placed already- had started to mumble abuses and threats. "Any lucky numbas? Random, system or date of birth?"

Date of birth?

"10 and 9." Was all he had replied, having ignored the nerved sigh from the bulky man.

A shocked gasp and then swearing. The men around him had all lost and with a disbelieving look, he had stared at the two pairs of rectangular pieces of wood.

"Ya win, shrimp… now get da hell outta my sight!"

With a hand full of money, he had left.

10, 9.

The date of the morning he had found himself in Soul Society.

His birthday.

Sighing, Gin pried his eyes away from the blue sky and instead stared at his short sword where it was lying in his lap, the s-shaped cross guard glimmering in the light of the fading sun.

Scratching the back of his head, he got up from where he had been sitting on the hard ground in front of the shack, picked up the katana and dusted off his behind with his free hand. He could smell something edible nearby and knew that Rangiku was almost finished with the preparations for their meager meal.

Entering their home, he slipped out of his sandals and knelt down beside the young girl.

She was crushing herbs in a mortar, her gaze so intently fixed on the task at hand, that Gin had to smile to himself.

There weren't any cakes around, but her cooking was just fine with him.

"Hey..." He suddenly asked, gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he watched her out of the corner of his eyes. "When's yer birthday, Rangiku?"

He was curious. The two of them had teamed up almost a year ago, but still, there was so much they didn't know about each other. The only thing he knew was that he felt content around her… maybe even happy…

"I don't know." She replied after a short moment, turning away from him with a sad look. "Until I've met you, such things have held no meaning to me." The girl continued, fidgeting nervously with the mortar as she felt his gaze on her.

Making a befuddled face, brows high on his forehead, he suddenly felt bad for having brought up the topic at all. She was obviously feeling uncomfortable and he had been the reason for her ruined mood.

Gin wanted to make her feel better.

"So then yer birthday's gonna be on the date we've met the first time." He declared with a slight smile, totally content with his solution.

He watched as her eyes shoot up from the floor, emotions ranging from hope to surprise and incredulity intermingling.

"So?" He asked, head cocked to one side. "Good thing, ne, Rangiku?"

The corners of her mouth turned up into the ghost of a smile.

"Yes. September 29th is just fine."

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

FINIS?!

My go and that scene and finally back to the fact we know out of Kubo-sensei's manga.

Next part in progress, which'll get us back to _my_ version of past events XD


	8. Black & White

Author's notes:

The manga is as always kick-ass, ne!? Hope to kick some too with this chapter XD

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

The land seemed to go on forever, vanishing somewhere far away in the blue horizon.

A slight breeze moved along the ground, bending the knee high grass stalks as a ripple went through the meadow. Red, yellow and white blossoms dotted his surroundings, moving with the wind, accompanied by the soft murmuring as the stalks stroked against one another.

He had been here many times before.

This was_ his_ world.

If he turned around, he could see the old, burned shack standing lonely on top of the hill behind him.

When he had first been there, he had walked up to the rotting door, fingers almost touching the handle and had stared at the wooden planks, the formally brown color having faded into a depressing grey centuries ago.

He couldn't fully explain why he hadn't opened the door back then.

Maybe the oppressive aura –death and sorrow- surrounding the shack had been the reason. Or the broken toy horse made of maple wood lying half buried in the dirt in front of the door.

The house seemed to evoke emotions from somewhere deep within his mind. Hurt, loneliness, fear. Hope, joy and the feeling of being loved. He couldn't explain why he was associating them with one another, but they had made him stop.

In this world, where only peaceful silence existed, Gin had met shinsou for the first time.

A young man with pure white eyes, wearing a blood red yukata. He was taller then him and was holding a long spear in one hand, the metal tip soaked in fresh blood.

He never talked, lips sealed and forming a thin line as he always looked ahead into the distance, the black hair tied in a ponytail whipping back and forth in the breeze. Because of the fact that shinsou never spoke to him it had been quite a pain to find out anything about him.

In the end, it had been the wind that had given away the name of his zanpakutou, having whispered the syllables with a soft murmur, like grass rustling in a breeze and had carried them across the hill to the far away horizon.

This time Gin was alone in his mind.

No shinsou waiting in the meadow for him to find out something new, stilling the feeling that something was missing deep inside.

Frowning, the boy with the striking hair color took a step forward, his bare feet getting wet from the dewy stalks engulfing him. A gust of strong wind caught his yukata from behind, making Gin turn around his head to where the shack was standing.

With a growing feeling of trepidation, he found a mountain of dark thunderclouds moving towards him from behind the broken roof, banishing the light from the silent world.

There had never been a change in weather before and slowly, he began to back away.

The sound of a knock came unexpected and made him jerk together in surprise. It had originated from the shack's door, resounding in his ears as the noise got carried along with the strong wind.

Something was definitely wrong here.

First shinsou didn't show up and now the thunderheads.

And the air around him seemed to get heavier with every second ticking by, like a weight pressing down on his torso with increasing pressure.

"Fear."

Gin stood deathly still. The voice had come from behind him, distorted, sounding like that of one of those masked monsters.

"Pathetic insect." The disembodied voice drawled again, making a shiver run down Gin's spine.

For a very long moment, everything around him seemed to cease to exist, the wind having stopped and even the clouds appeared to have been frozen into place. He could hear his breath coming out in heavy pants, the echo of his heart thrumming a fast rhythm reverberating in his ears.

The pressure on his body grew as a strangely familiar dark energy wrapped around his being like a huge hand squeezing his body.

With all the courage he could muster, Gin turned around.

And froze.

It felt as if he was staring at his reflection in a mirror. A boy looking exactly like him stood there in the meadow, grinning a dark smile, eyes crinkled up. He wore a white shihakushou, his pitch black lips standing at stark contrast to his pure white skin.

As Gin's gaze travelled down the boy's form, he found the black hilt of a short katana lurking out from where it was tucked away in the obi, the s-shaped cross guard glinting in the dimming light.

His opponent was carrying shinsou. There was no doubt.

"Wh-who are ya?" Gin demanded to know, feeling his courage draining from his body as cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

What was that feeling? A strange numbness was spreading out through his limbs, the tips of his fingers prickling as if penetrated by uncountable pins.

"Dumb one, ya weak squirt!" His reflection retorted with a short bark of laughter. "I am _you_!"

The white boy's lids opened, revealing yellow pupils embedded into black eyeballs. He gazed back at Gin, staring him down with the maniacal energy radiating from every centimeter of his being.

Gin could feel the darkness of the thunderheads creeping up his legs from behind.

His body was losing all feelings as if he was about to lose consciousness.

He had been like this before. Back then when he had come to save Rangiku from those men, his control over his body and mind had slipped out of his grasp just the same way as every coherent thought had been replaced by oppressive darkness.

"Ya're too weak to keep me from getting' control fer ever!" The anger was getting louder in the screeching voice of his reflection. "Don't'cha think, that bastard shinsou can protect ya much longer. _I am the_ _king_!!"

His knees felt weak. The sound of thunder registered somewhere in his clouding mind.

His white self moved closer, one hand holding onto the hilt of his zanpakutou. His muscles strained, but it appeared he was unable to draw it.

"Fear is all ya got, gutless kid!" The white boy spat.

His surroundings faded away into nothingness along with his black and white reflection.

When Gin opened his eyes again, he instantly knew that he was back in the world of the living dead.

It was night, the light of the moon filtering through a small window in the opposite wall. Brows knitting together into a frown, he got aware of his surroundings and that he was no longer lying on his straw mat, but was instead standing in the middle of the room.

As the haze lifted from his mind completely, Gin realized that the right side of his face was covered by something cold. And when he touched it, it felt like the cool surface of a porcelain.

The terror rose in his throat and with a pained gasp, he tore the thing from his face, throwing it to the floor and taking a step back from it.

In a ray of pale light, the perfect half of a mask was staring back at him with a hollow eye.

"No… ", he began, taking another step away from the thing.

His gaze suddenly came to rest on the peacefully sleeping form of the girl he had come to trust more than anything else in his life.

Gin's breathing came out in a shocked gasp when he realized for the first time, that his right hand was wrapped around the hilt of his drawn sword. The edge of the blade reflected the little light as the tip of the katana pointed at Rangiku's body.

"This can't be happening… no… "

With a clatter, shinsou fell to the ground, Gin sinking down onto his knees as all the energy drained from him.

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

FINIS?!

Hope ya all liked it! Feel free to r&r!


	9. Caught

Author's notes:

Took me some time, but here it comes! This is not really true to the manga, but you have probably figured that one out since chapter one XD Have fun!

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

Gin was acting strange.

Not that that was anything new, but the fact remained, that the boy was acting even _stranger_ than his normal strangeness… Matsumoto didn't quite know what to make of it and quite frankly, with his 'I'm-fine-don't-ask'-attitude it was easier to find a treasure in front of their home, than pry anything out of this obstinate blockhead.

"'m goin' ta find some chicken." Was all she heard, before Gin had left their housing.

At least he wasn't moping around about whatever it was that bothered him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kicking a pebble ahead of him, Gin stared at the dusty ground.

It hadn't rained for almost a month and their paltry excuse for a vegetable garden had ceased to exist about a week ago, when the water they had carried every day back from the river hadn't been sufficient enough to get anything to grow in the dead earth.

So the two of them had gone back to searching trash cans, earn money by selling straw sandals or –concerning him alone- steal some from whoever happened to pass by his long fingers.

Today he was out to buy another meager chicken though, the money having come from yesterday's time on the market.

The pebble jumped another two meters.

The silver haired boy wasn't feeling too good lately.

He had met that black and white twin guy another three times since then and every time, he had come to with the same mask covering his face. Last time, he had found himself kneeling in front of Ran with his hand on the hilt of shinsou.

It was getting too dangerous.

What he could do about that, he didn't know. That thing was gaining more and more control over his mind and Gin found himself every now and then spacing out whenever he drew shinsou and trained in the woods.

He couldn't tell Ran about this whole situation. It was too complicated to explain, not to mention the fact, that he himself didn't even fully comprehend that thing 100 percent.

The point of his sandal made contact with the pebble and it flew through the hot air.

It stopped its descend midway when it hit a leg.

Frowning, Gin's gaze travelled up the black hakama, coming to rest on the green hilt of a zanpakutou.

Gulping hard, Gin wet his lips and looked up at the face of the owner of the sword. A man in his twenties regarded him with a content smile on his lips, his brown hair looking perfectly combed and at the same time slightly tousled.

"Hello." He said, unwinding his arms where they had been folded against his chest and took a step towards Gin. In his left hand, he was holding an obviously expensive pair of glasses.

The boy watched his opponent wearily, knowing there was nothing good about the presence of a shinigami.

For a rather long second, the two eyed each other, the smile never faltering on the shinigami's lips.

"There anything ya need?" Gin finally retorted, the muscles in his legs tensing as he prepared himself to run away. He had shinsou with him, but he had no doubts that his sword skills were no match to those of that man.

The smile broadened then and a strange sensation rippled through Gin's body, his stomach knotting in anticipation.

"In fact, there is something I need from you." The shinigami began, his head slightly cocked to one side, the pleasantness of his voice giving Gin the chills. "Your name."

He couldn't prevent his brows from knitting together into a frown at the most unexpected question he could think of. His name? That guy was making his alarm bells ring in a wild orchestra and reflexively he took one step away from the grinning man.

His retreat was stopped abruptly when he felt the presence of someone else standing behind him.

Swallowing his surprise, he forced himself not to look across his shoulder at the new threat.

Offence is the best form of defense…

"And who wants ta know that?" He tried to sound nonchalantly, arms hanging limply by his side even though his fingers were itching for shinsou.

"Watch your tongue, impertinent child!" The voice of the second man announced darkly, his reiatsu flaring up in an obvious threat.

"Stop it, Kaname." The exploding energy quieted down instantly and Gin could make out some shuffling and the rustling of clothes.

"Forgive me, Aizen-sama."

The man in question smiled slightly, his dark brown eyes shining with amusement.

"I am Aizen Sousuke. Third seat of the fifth division of the Gotei 13."

A third seat? Gin was far beyond mud…

"I have little time, boy." That Aizen-guy continued without waiting for another comment from Gin. "I've been watching you for some time now and have to admit, that you have gained my interest."

Gin was sure they could see his heart thrumming against his ribcage. He had been watched and never noticed. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the implication of his words.

"What do you want." He sounded braver than he felt and was glad that his voice had remained unwavering.

Aizen didn't reply immediately. Instead he unfolded the glasses and put them carefully back on, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with a long slender finger. An aura of aristocracy surrounded his every move, making Gin feel so very insignificant standing there in his torn yukata.

"You inherit a power I have never seen before." With every word he uttered, his reiatsu increased gradually, engulfing Gin like a heavy mist. His legs began to tremble and in the back of his mind, the spot of compressed darkness began to expand.

The eerie snickering of that black and white twin echoed like a hollow noise in his mind, reverberating from his skull and crashing down upon his mind like hail.

His breathing got heavier as his hand wandered without his consent to shinsou's hilt. "Surely, you have already realized that this power is slipping out of your control." The pressure of Aizen's spirit energy grew even more.

"And one day, you might no longer be able to keep that monster from slicing her throat."

The world around him stopped dead.

The sneering face of his black and white reflection appeared like a hazy picture in his consciousness, his mind fighting against it like the wings of a butterfly caught in the spider's web.

"That girl will die."

"No…"

'_Pathetic insect!_'

"You will kill her."

"No…"

'_YES!!_'

"Come with me and become a shinigami."

The calm tone in which the words had been said seemed to clear the mist that had engulfed his mind and Gin's hand went slack, falling off of his zanpakutou's hilt. The darkness retreated into the back of his consciousness again.

There was a long moment of utter silence as Gin stared at the folded arms of his opponent.

"Will you tell me your name?"

Gin had always thought of Rangiku as a small bird. She was fragile and beautiful. But strong enough to defy the order of nature and fly towards the blue sky.

If she was a bird, than he was the wind.

Surrounding her, giving her buoyancy and carrying her towards the skies.

Strong enough to catch her and break her wings.

He had realized that one day, he wouldn't be able to hold back that monster anymore and would be forced to watch his own hands murder her without being able to stop it.

Lifting his gaze from the folded arms, he stared Aizen squarely in the amused eyes.

"The name's Ichimaru Gin."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Rangiku woke with a start.

A cool breeze engulfed her as she sat up slowly on the hard straw mat. Frowning, she eyed the still gleaming coals of the extinguished fire, smelling the last remains of the chicken soup.

It was dark outside, the full moon illuminating the inside of the shack poorly.

An uneasy feeling washed over her senses as she got onto her knees and looked around. Something was amiss. Even though she didn't feel cold, a familiar warmth was missing.

Finally her bleary orbs settled on the second straw mat, her breath catching in her throat in shock.

He was gone.

Gin was gone.

Swiveling around, she stared at the door. It was slightly ajar and in the rays of pale moonlight, she could see the small imprints of sandals leading away from the shack, leaving behind one pair of shoes.

"Don't." She began to sob silently, tears falling as she stared her clenched fists. "Don't leave me alone."

A bundle of crumbled bills rolled down her lap coming to rest between her balled fists.

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

FINIS?!

Sigh… wanted to write this part right from the start. Now I feel kinda strange. There'll be another part for sure, but then…? Review anyone?


	10. Faltering

Author's notes:

Been a long time. Sorry. Life happens. Hope you like this… XD

Beware of spoilers for that chapter with Hitsugaya's past!

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

"So… "The guy in front of her started, playing with the obi wrapped around his mid-section nervously. "Is there a chance you'd go on a date? With me… tonight?"

"No."

Turning around swiftly, she proceeded down the hallway, suppressing the need to roll her eyes at that jerk's hundredth attempt to get her to go out with him. If he dared to ask her one more time, she'd help him to a date with a member of the fourth division.

Apart from that little annoyance, Matsumoto was feeling rather good this morning.

She had just returned from Rukongai, having picked up that little white-haired snotty-nosed brat who was carrying around an insanely huge chunk of reiatsu. She'd met him only two days ago and her women's intuition told her that having gotten him out of that ghetto, was a good deed she would someday benefit from!

Maybe some higher-ups would hear that it had been her doing and give her a reward! Less paperwork would be just fine…

Smiling gleefully, the well bestowed woman turned a corner and walked out of the tenth division building into the open, bowing slightly when the third seat passed her with a stupid grin covering the better half of his even more stupid looking face.

Seireitei was a good place to live.

After academy, she'd been immediately assigned the rank of the fifth seat of the tenth division and was confident to climb the ladder even further even though she'd joined the Gotei 13 only a month ago.

Her captain was a strange guy, never wearing his captain's robe, but rather having it tied around his arm. He always wore a smile and apart from his mannerisms concerning true love (he'd go on and on about that for hours if one actually dared to bring up the topic and Kyoraku-taichou and he could often enough be seen in the bars swooning over their idiotic images of the perfect woman), he was a trustworthy man.

Right now, she was on her way to deliver some letters from her captain to the captain of the fifth division.

Aizen-taichou was said to be a pleasant person. Always nice to his subordinates and actually the total opposite to the captains of the 11th and 12th divisions (which couldn't be too difficult, anyway).

She hadn't met him in person until now and was slightly nervous, considering she was about to face one of the 13 captains! If she did well, she could leave a good impression, though she'd be feeling strange if another captain would possibly count to her drinking buddies (her captain and Kyoraku-taichou were such hoodlums sometimes and she hated dealing with Ise Nanao when it came to her drunk CO!).

Jumping onto the next roof, she did a few shunpos and soon found herself in front of the fifth division sleeping quarters.

In the wildly growing grapevine of gossiping shinigami she'd actually heard some rumors concerning the 5th.

Their old captain had died along with several other taichous and fukutaichous in an accident kept secret by the soutaichou himself, but it was said, that the former leader of the 12th division and the research facilities had had his hands in the incident.

About the current fukutaichou, she knew little to nothing.

A strange guy with a creepy smile (and a body to die for), she'd heard once, but she hadn't been interested in any details back then, having had enough to do with getting along with her fellow colleagues in her own division. Matsumoto had yet to find the time to get familiar with each and every seated officer.

Maybe she'd leave her drinking buddies Shuhei and Iba-san alone tonight and do some researching…

A group of snickering women passed by without as much as noticing her, but Matsumoto didn't particular care about being stopped by every shinigami who happened to notice her fifth rank.

Looking up, her blue eyes settled on the broad emblem with the kanji for five on the wall of the division's headquarters. Inside were the offices of the seats below two and behind the building, the private office of the taichou and fukutaichou were situated.

Taking a deep breath, she walked past the building, heading straight towards the private office where she was to deliver the letters personally signed by her taichou to either directly Aizen-taichou or his 2IC.

Kneeling down, Matsumoto knocked on the frame of the sliding door and bowed low.

Frowning, she suddenly felt a strangely familiar reiatsu advancing towards her from the other side of the door.

Someone fumbled for the frame of the sliding door and in the next second, she was staring at the pure white tabi socks of her opponent.

Imprints of sandals leading away from her…

The gentle energy she had been looking for for so many lonely years engulfed her in a warm soothing embrace and her orbs closed reflexively. The energy signature changed so abruptly that she had to blink in surprise. It had retreated from her as if washed away by the wind and she could instead feel the oppressive silence hovering around the pair.

A picture of a smiling boy and she felt the first tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

I couldn't be…

"F-fifth seat of the tenth division, Matsumoto Rangiku, reporting in the name of the captain of the tenth division, Ku-"

"Rangiku?"

Taking a shuddering breath, Matsumoto lifted her head and stared up at the obviously shocked face of Ichimaru Gin.

The letters fell out of her shaking grasp and a thick lump rose in her constricting throat. 'Don't cry.' She told herself, feeling for the securing presence of Haineko.

They stared at each other for what seemed like years, her body absorbing every ounce of reiatsu evaporating from his being as if she had finally found water on a voyage through a vast desert.

"Ran… when… why…"

'_Why?_'

She had asked herself that simple question so many times that she felt like crumpling right then. Ever since he had left her alone that night. Every time a bill of neatly folded money was lying beside her head at the end of the month, a familiar warmth still clinging to them.

She had asked herself 'why' after she had found out about her zanpakutou. About _his_ zanpakutou. When she had moved to a better district close to the walls of Seireitei with the money of the _stranger_.

Why had she been alone?

"Gin…"

"Gin. Won't you allow her to stand up already?"

The gentle, slightly bemused voice of a man interrupted her and with a startled frown, Matsumoto suddenly realized that the captain of the fifth division was standing right behind his 2IC, arms folded in front of his broad chest.

With his lean figure and lost frown, Gin looked so much younger and inexperienced than his captain, but with Aizen-taichou's words, his demeanor changed as well.

"Ah, sorry, sorry, Rangiku-chan. I was kinda surprised ta find sucha beautiful birdie sittin' on this dull grounds."

Something inside of her tore apart with such force, that she couldn't speak for another few seconds.

What had happened?

"Ya surely came ta gimme those letters, ne?" His voice was still the same with that melody she had found so strange when they had first met, but had come to love over the time and longed for later when she walked the path alone. It had become deeper with the years that had passed, though a strange undertone implying playfulness was flowing from his lips, as if he was humoring her.

And that fake smile.

Where had Gin gone?

"Yes, Ichimaru-fukutaichou. I am deeply sorry for losing focus and needing more of your precious time than necessary." With that she picked up the almost forgotten letters, got up from the wooden planks and bowed slightly in front of the two tall men.

Handing over the letters, she tried not to notice their fingers touching and inhaled his subtle scent.

"If there is nothing you need from me, I will take my leave now. I hope to meet you again in the future, Aizen-taichou, Ichimaru-fukutaichou."

Bowing once more, she turned on her heels and walked down the alleyway stiffly, feeling his eyes upon her back until she rounded the next best corner she could find.

After a few minutes she came to a halt somewhere at the beginning of the fifth division's sleeping quarters. Looking around she found herself standing alone in the street, hands trembling as her heart thrummed a relentless rhythm against her ribcage.

She had found him. After all those years of searching and yearning, she had found him here in Seireitei; fukutaichou of the fifth division.

Why was she still feeling so lost and lonely?

Her shaking hands balled into fists as Matsumoto felt anger bubbling dangerously inside her stomach, hot tears springing to her eyes for a reason she had yet to understand.

"Damn idiot…"

"Ran."

Startled, Matsumoto's head shot up. He was right behind her, having appeared seemingly out of the nowhere. Mere inches parted them, the warmth of his lean body so close that it reminded her once again of all the reasons why she had been looking for him, never giving up, never faltering in her steps.

She didn't turn around. Whether because she was ashamed of the brimming tears blurring her vision or because she was afraid he would disappear again, Rangiku couldn't tell.

"Forgive me."

The impact of those words made her shudder.

"I couldn't come back ta save ya." There was a long pause, but there was no other sound except for the gentle whisper of the wind. Or was it his breath tickling the nape of her neck?

"Ran… I wish I'd been able ta see ya smile only one more time… Please… Stay away from me."

He was gone before the last syllable had left his lips, making Matsumoto wonder whether it had all been a dream after all. The reiatsu vanished as a gust of wind engulfed her, leaving behind another painful memory.

"Idiot." A tear cascaded down her cheek as she bit her lip hard. "I'm always the one being left behind."

Walking back towards her quarters, she forgave him yet again.

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

FINIS!?

Another chapter? Dunno, yet…


	11. Sacrifices

Author's notes:

Thanks to all the reviewer! I'd be seriously doubting the sense behind writing this if it weren't for you!

-()-()- signals beginning and end of flashback

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

His brows furrowed together into a deep, contemplative frown. His lips protruded into a grimace somewhat resembling a pout and his index finger pressed so vigorously against his chin, that the skin turned red from the pressure.

"The worst…" He mumbled again and the light from the lantern made his bald head shine brightly.

"Come now, Ikkaku! Can't be too hard fer yer mud brain too figure out the worst thing ya've ever found the guts to swallow!"

"Shuddup, ya kitten-loving pseudo-mustache wearing brickhead!" A _slightly_ drunk Madarame Ikkaku yelled across the table at an equally sloshed 3rd seat of the 11th division. Before the 'brickhead' had left his mouth, a tear rolled down Iba's cheek.

"I was friggin' starving! And that _cat_ had been run over by a carriage! Right in front of my eyes!"

"Alright, alright… a weasel."

There was silence for a few seconds until Iba quirked an eyebrow in question. "A weasel?"

"Too hairy and skinny as hell, but it did the deal…" Ikkaku mumbled, scratching his bare stomach with clumsy fingers. With his free hand he downed the last remains of warm sake, gaining a dark glare from his opponent in return.

"So we got weasels, kittens, -"

"Cat."

"- and slugs." At that they all stared at Hisagi. "What 'bout ya, Matsumoto? Ya came from Rukongai as well, ne?"

Slightly drowsy eyes looked up from where they had been resting on her sake cup, the liquid smiling invitingly up at her as she stared at her rippling reflection. "Me?... I'm a woman. I don't eat gross stuff like you sweating, dirty men. Or do you think my two friends grew that beautiful from eating hairy snails?"

A round of nodding heads mulled over that specific piece of information, Hisagi's cheeks having turned a subtle shade of pink.

"And for staring at my boobs you'll take care of my bill."

All present jaws dropped open at that, but no-one dared to contradict. Instead they dove back into their conversation, Ikkaku slurring something about Yumichika only eating stuff he himself had claimed beautiful.

Looking away from the laughing men, Matsumoto stared at the flickering light of the lantern, her gaze seemingly miles away.

-()-()-

"Look what I found!"

Gin looked across his shoulder at his friend, his hands continuing to polish the blade of his katana. "What'd'cha find, Rangiku?"

With the broadest smile the boy had ever seen in his entire life, the young girl produced a small bundle consisting of four furry legs and an even furrier head out from behind her back, holding the unmoving creature up for everyone inside the shack to see.

Gin –being the only one present- turned around fully, his sword still lying on his crossed legs.

"A puppy!" She announced the most obvious thing Gin could think of. "It was walking around outside and its mother was nowhere to be seen!" Matsumoto's eyes were shining with absolute happiness as she walked past the small fireplace towards her silent companion. "I named it 'Tabi'."

Gin's mouth formed an 'Oh', one eyebrow rising in bewilderment. "Tabi?"

"Look at its paws. It's completely brown, but the paws are white, as if he's wearing socks."

"Ah… but it doesn't look too happy, Ran. Maybe the name…"

Giving him a glare, she sat the small ball down on the floor right in front of Gin and then knelt down herself. "Come here, Tabi. Come here."

A light whimper could be heard as the puppy got up on shaky legs and trotted straight towards a slightly bemused Gin. The whimpering got louder then and with one free hand, the silver-haired boy picked up the dog by its neck and held it high in the air, turning it from side to side as he eyed it carefully.

"At least it looks healthy, but I guess it's hungry… another mouth ta fill, ne."

Looking away from the now silent puppy, Gin found Matsumoto glaring openly at the strange pair. "When I picked him up, he peed on my arm… " Oh… "It's a present. Keep him. He likes you more than me."

Befuddled, Gin watched her get up and walk outside, mumbling something about washing her yukata.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The fish had already been bad.

Lying on his back, Gin stared up at the bright blue sky, some small birds flying past his field of vision. It was mocking him. The sky had always been there, looking down upon his pathetic existence, mocking him, laughing.

Somewhere behind the shack, Matsumoto was retching violently. It must be painful, he thought, for there was nothing left in her stomach to be thrown up.

The pair hadn't found anything edible for over five days, the chicken he had killed the other day having been stolen by another starving kid. He guessed that it had been that black-haired girl carrying around her baby sister and had refrained from going after her.

Even with his stomach having given up on rumbling days ago, he couldn't bring himself to sink that low.

The sound of paws walking softly towards him across the sandy ground caught his attention, his mind trying to zone out the noises of the heaving girl somewhere to his right.

"Got nothin' fer ya, Tabi. Sorry."

As if knowing full well that his master couldn't provide him with anything that wasn't already half rotten, the dog's jaw clapped open and a bone fell onto the ground. There was a moment of absolute silence as Gin stared at the offering.

"You're a good boy… " Picking up the white bone, he held it up above his face, saliva making it slimy. A fly sat down on a small piece of dark brown muscle tissue and Gin's mouth went dry as another cramp made him almost vomit again.

"Here." He mumbled, throwing the bone some meter away to a line of dry bushes. "Ya take the rest."

Tail hanging low, Tabi walked away to where his meal had fallen.

These days, something some people would call 'manhunt' was raging in Rukongai like a wildfire. Groups of adults were roaming the streets, hunting down anyone who dared to have a weird face, have more food, water, money or luck or was literally caught with the hand in the cookie jar.

A few days ago, they had almost gotten their hands on him while he had been rummaging through trash. Especially children and old people were on their list of potential prey.

To his right, Matsumoto walked out from behind a bush, her arms hanging limply by her sides, not enough strength left in her body for them to hold onto her hurting belly. Dark rings under her eyes stood at stark contrast to her pale skin. The only color left in her face, was the light pink hue of her cheeks and forehead.

She was probably close to running a fever, the rotten fish having added the last drop to her crumbling health.

Watching her disappear inside their home, Gin averted his glassy eyes from the entrance and stared again at the cloudless sky.

An eerie voice somewhere in the back of his mind kept telling him how pathetic he was and Gin found himself agreeing at last.

"Unable to keep one friggin' life safe."

His gaze drifted to where Tabi was gnawing on the blank bone.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Matsumoto woke from the noise of boiling water.

As her eyes cracked open slowly, she got aware of her surroundings, especially a very familiar scent that evoke a warm feeling of hope to spread out in her stomach.

Food.

Finding strength that hadn't been there some hours ago when she had practically fallen into their shack, her mind immediately having shut down, she sat up clumsily, finding a white sheet draped across her.

It smelled like something really good.

Turning around fully, she watched her companion as he silently stirred the content of the small pot he had set up on the gleaming coals. The scent made her mouth water in joyful anticipation and with the sound of creaking wood, she moved into a crouch.

Gin didn't pay her any attention, totally oblivious to the fact that she had finally gotten up and was actually still able to move about. He seemed totally engrossed in the task at hand, looking down into the pot as if nothing else existed besides the gloriously smelling food.

"Hey." She finally announced her presence with a voice raspy from throwing up but that sounded slightly over-cheerful in the oppressive silence that had surrounded them until then.

"That smells wonderful." Matsumoto tried again more tentatively, crawling across the small space towards her plate. "Where'd you get it?"

She didn't particularly care what it was right now. It could be rats and she'd be happy to swallow it all tails included. What mattered to her was how he had suddenly gotten his hands on the meat.

They didn't have any money, a fact that had made it virtually impossible for the pair to buy anything fresh (meat or fruits) and had forced them to live from partly rotten vegetables and mice.

But this stuff smelled wonderful.

"Hey, Gin! Still with me?" Her chin rested on her knees, thighs drawn up close to her chest as she encircled her legs tightly with her skinny arms to hug herself.

Finally, the silent boy made a move that he had noticed her, looking up from the peacefully cooking soup into her eyes, her brows having furrowed into a deep frown. She immediately realized that something was wrong with him.

His face was void of any emotion.

Matsumoto couldn't remember having ever seen his features so blank. No creased brows, no half smile, not even the slightest sign that he was there.

Without a word, he took a wooden spoon and filled their plates with the stew.

Cocking her head slightly to the side, she couldn't suppress the growing feeling of suspicion that made her alarm bells go wild. Slowly, she picked up the proffered plate and stared at the small pieces of meat.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw his beloved katana standing against the wall. She couldn't recall one moment when he had let go of the sword since he had first appeared with it.

"Ran."

Her eyes shot up. Gin rarely called her by the nickname, he himself had given her.

"Ya _have_ ta get better… " His voice suddenly faltered and he looked down at the soup, a faint line of sadness etching itself into his brows. "Sorry."

Frowning, Rangiku moved the spoon to her lips, her gaze never averting from where Gin was silently eating the stew. Her stomach started to grumble again for the first time in three days, her body having caught up with the knowledge of finally getting something again.

Then she noticed what had bugged her right from the start and the realization made her dizzy as if she had been hit in the face.

"Where's Tabi?"

Another spoon filled with soup disappeared in Gin's mouth, but he looked like he had to force his throat to swallow with every bite.

Without her having noticed it, her eyes had already started to brim with unshed tears as they moved around the small interior of their refuge in search of their furry companion. Normally he would be sitting close by, waiting for some pieces of meat to 'accidently' find their way towards his already empty bowl.

"Where is he?" She pressed out between dry lips, the spoon in her hand trembling so hard, that the content fell back into the plate.

"I watched him this morning going away with a female dog." He started in a flat tone of voice, the spoon hanging half filled in mid-air. "Fell in love at first sight I guess. … Now eat up, it's gonna turn cold in a sec."

Nodding silently, Matsumoto put the spoon into her mouth. It tasted just as it smelled. Wonderful. Gin was the best cook she had ever met. He could turn mice and rice into the most delicious food she had ever been allowed to taste and trash into stomach-filling goodies.

"I-it's great." She hiccupped, her vision too blurred to see Gin nod his consent.

"They'll have lotsa lil puppies real soon, ne, Ran?"

Matsumoto couldn't answer. In her mind, she saw little dogs with paws as white as snow playing tag in the dirt.

-()-()-

Holding the sake cup in her hand, Matsumoto stared into the distance, neither hearing nor seeing her drunken companions blabbering on about gross stuff they had eaten so far. Her mind was still focused on that day, remembering the taste of slightly salty soup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Madarame suddenly yelled, holding his hands up into the air so silence his buddies. "You can't tell me, your fuckin' kitten tasted worse than _my_ sandal! Don't make me laugh, ya wimpy lil son of a-"

A hand on his shoulder made Ikkaku stop mid-sentence, his head shooting around to see who had dared to interrupt him in his glorious onslaught of assaults.

"Ichimaru-fukutaichou!" Hisage spluttered, getting up from where he had been sitting to greet the higher ranked officer accordingly.

"Oh, just leave it be, Hisagi-kun." Gin told the other man with an exaggerated sigh. His hand was still resting softly on Ikkaku's shoulder when his lips turned upwards into a broad smile.

"Don't'cha think that conversation of yers has turned a lil bit unlady-ish?"

Matsumoto could only stare at the tall man, his silver hair having grown a bit longer since the last time she had met him. But his demeanor hadn't. Gin was still not Gin.

It felt like a little boy was standing in front of her, wearing a sneering mask to hide himself from a Hollow.

"Thank you very much, Ichimaru-fukutaichou. But I am a big girl." Matsumoto announced, lifting her arm to show everyone her biceps. "I can handle a bunch of drunkards myself."

"Is that so?" There was genuine surprise on his face as he let go of Madarame's shoulder, arms hanging limply by his sides as he regarded her with creased eyebrows. "Than I'll leave 'em in yer capable hands, Rangiku-chan. Ja!"

Gin turned around without another word, his hand lifted 'Bye' as he ducked under the curtain bearing the name of the sake bar and disappeared in the darkness outside.

"Now that's a freak, I tell ya." Ikkaku mumbled, waving his empty sake cup towards the waitress for seconds. The topic changed abruptly as soon as the men felt safe, Ichimaru was out of ear range from kittens to "fox-faced creeps".

Listening to her companion commenting about Gin and his captain, who was said to be the absolute opposite of his 2IC, she sighed deeply.

"Thank you."

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

FINIS?!

Sooo… comments, anyone?


	12. Aimless

Author's notes:

Finally found the time to finish this chapter. Life sometimes sucks real bad, ne? XD But lets not dwell on such things and get started with some Gin/Matsu goodness 

Though I'm pretty depressed, that _***beware of recent chapter spoilers***_ Aizen got a scene with Hinamori and Gin still hasn't gotten one with Rangiku!!! Hell, Kubo-sensei, how much longer will you make me dangle from that hook?!?!

R&R

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

"So how's he?"

Looking up from his half filled cup of warm sake, Kira blinked a few times as he contemplated the question his friend had posed. With a deep sigh, he put down his drink and straightened.

"I don't really know. He seems to be nice enough, but except for some basic conversations, we haven't found the time to… I don't know… what am I supposed to do anyway?" Brows creased deeply as a sweaty hand combed through his straw blond hair.

Renji emptied his own cup and grinned. "You are the brownnoser, not me."

Making a disgruntled face, Kira sighed again. "I'm new to this. Becoming fukutaichou all of a sudden took me pretty much by surprise and then I have to act under a newly assigned captain as well… why's it always got to be the hard way?"

Snorting in annoyance at Izuru's self-loathing, Renji refilled his cup and glanced at his other companion.

To celebrate the newly arrived captain and vice-captain of the third division, the other members of the third had decided to throw a welcome party. Around the same time, Renji had achieved fourth seat of the 11th and Hinamori had finally been given the place right beside her beloved Aizen-taichou.

So here they were, sitting in Kira's private quarters, while the rest of his quad was having a great get together in the canteen.

"What's your problem anyway?" The red-head demanded irritably, throwing his free hand up in the air. "I only got to be fourth. And that was outta pure luck! If it weren't for Ayasegawa-san, I'd be somewhere around five at best!"

"Abarai-kun, don't be like this." Hinamori chided her friend with a broad smile. She had been doing that a lot lately, Renji noted with a risen eyebrow. Smiling like the cat that got the cream. "You'll be given a better position as well."

Always the optimist…

"Anyway. How's yer taichou by the way?"

Practically beaming, Hinamori clapped her hands together and opened her mouth to start about all the positive characteristics she had already noticed about Aizen-taichou, when a knock on the sliding door indicated a new arrival.

Before Kira could give the person permission to enter, the sliding door had already been opened and Matsumoto Rangiku stepped inside.

"Now isn't that a surprise?" She began, folding her arms underneath her bosom as she leant against the frame of the door. Head slightly cocked to the side, she quirked an eyebrow.

"Having a drink together without waiting for the star guest."

Kira frowned slightly, contemplating whether to mention or not that the three of them had been assigned their first seats and not _her_, but decided spontaneously against voicing any form of protest.

"Rangiku-san, I didn't know you were coming today." Hinamori looked extremely worried about having offended the tall woman (they hadn't been friends for too long, but already the woman with the black bun couldn't think of anything worse than disappointing her) and with a sigh, Renji decided to end her misery.

Producing a new sake cup, he waved Matsumoto over to his side. "It ain't empty, yet. The third seems to be on the rich side of life."

Smiling slyly, Matsumoto lifted her hand and waved him off with a slight motion of her wrist.

"Thanks, but I still have some errands to run. Since I'm currently acting as captain _and_ vice-captain, the load resting on my two best friends has been doubled." Turning around, she gave them all a quick smile. "Congrats on your promotions. Maybe I'll come by again later."

A chorus of mixed "Thank you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou" and "Whatever" accompanied her as she walked along the way leading away from Kira's quarters to the private compound of the new taichou.

The smile had vanished from her face as soon as she had been out of sight, having been replaced by a hard façade. Lips drawn into a thin line and brows knitted together as if in pain, she headed straight to where she knew the new captain of the third division was residing.

It weren't good times for a delicate woman such as her to be second IC of the tenth squad. With the sudden, mysterious disappearance of their former captain, the division had been left headless and Matsumoto had been forced to shoulder a new responsibility until a new captain was in reach.

Among doing a heap of paperwork she hadn't known could actually exist in such quantities, there were still the chores her actual seat brought along with the job description.

Greeting the new taichou in her squad's name was one of them.

Wetting her dry lips, Matsumoto turned the corner of Kira's office and stopped dead for a rather long moment.

Ahead, the private quarters of Ichimaru Gin were lying ghostly still in the pale light of the half moon. The surface of a small pond rippled in a slight breeze, grass stalks rustling in its wake.

For some reason, her legs refused to move any further, her tabi-clad feet rooted to the spot as she stared at the peaceful compound in front of her.

Except for the normal vice captain meetings every month, she hadn't seen him much in the last years, the bond that the two had once shared having dwindled into mere memories already decades ago.

But still… whenever she was near him or even fleetingly thought about him, a strange feeling of longing and pain made her world quiver as if shaken in its very chore.

"Beautiful, ain't it?"

Jumping in surprise, Matsumoto swiveled around in shock, eyes wide as a short scream died in her throat. Heartbeat still racing as if she had just shunpo-ed from one end of Soul Society to the other, she pressed her hand against her heaving sternum.

Without thinking, she barked out the first thing that came to her racing mind: "I-idiot!"

Silence descended upon the two shinigamis as Matsumoto felt her ears turning red when finally the implication of her words hit her hard. Immediately, she bowed deep in front of the tall man, silently damning her loose mouth for being faster than her brain. Again.

"My deepest apologies for my insubordination, Ichimaru-taichou! I take full responsibility for my words and am awaiting any form of punishment, you feel-"

"Now, now, Rangiku." It was the first time in ages that he had used her name like this, his voice holding a bemused undertone. "Jus' glad nothin' 's fallen out…"

Eyes going wide, Matsumoto shot up into a straight position, her mouth slightly agape. She could barely believe her ears with her brain still trying to catch up to the changes of the man standing in front of her.

She suddenly felt as if she had finally woken from a nightmare.

He had returned.

Gin was back.

"Still, I'm sorry for being so rude to a superior… " Before she could dive back into her subordinate-mode, the woman caught herself and subtly took a calming breath. "I fear, I didn't hear, what you just said…"

The broad smirk on his pale features turned momentarily into a small almost serene smile, his eyebrows crinkling together slightly as if contemplating. "I merely commented on a beautiful scene."

Feeling a blush creeping into her cheeks, Matsumoto turned around swiftly and stared at the silent pond, the reflection of the moon casting an eerie glow on the surface of the water.

"It surely is."

Before any form of uncomfortable silence could pass between the two shinigamis, Ichimaru walked past her, his white captain's haori trailing slightly behind in his wake and Matsumoto couldn't help herself and closed her eyes for a brief second when she felt his reiatsu engulf her.

She didn't give her sub consciousness the chance to dwell on the memories that his energy signature evoked, warming her skin like an embrace. Instead she looked up to find him heading towards his private quarters.

Unsure what to do, she allowed her eyes to trace his frame for a second.

"Matsumoto-_fukutaichou_." His playful voice was carried across the small distance with a slight echo. "If ya hav' ta discuss somethin', I got some tea ta offer."

He was the only man in this world, who would willingly pass the chance to drink sake with her.

A warm fuzzy feeling suddenly spread out inside her as she felt her feet carrying her across the small yard to where Gin had left the sliding door to his office open. Matsumoto couldn't remember the last time she had been so absolutely relieved ever since their ways had parted.

It almost felt like coming home to this old shack…

Closing the door behind her, she found the lean man preparing two cups, the smell of green tea invading her senses and adding to the feeling of content.

"What brought 'cha 'ere?"

For some reason, she felt obliged to absorb every ounce of him. His reiatsu, his voice, the way he moved. It all felt like silk floating across her skin with a feathery touch.

The memory of their first meeting here in Seireitei pulling the silky blanket away from her and leaving behind cold bitterness.

"_Please… Stay away from me__."_

"I… I'm here in the name of my squad to congratulate you on your well deserved promotion with the utmost respect and to ensure you of the support of the tenth division."

Looking up from her slight bow, she found him half sitting on the window sill, one knee bent as his arm rested on it, his other foot planted firmly on the tatami mat for support. The moon light filtered in through the window, falling on his black shihakushou.

His silver hair seemed to reflect the eerie glow like the rippling surface of the pond.

"I'm…" What was it that she wanted to say then? Somehow the words just wouldn't come out.

Instead she unconsciously felt for the hem of her silken pink scarf.

"I've jus' finished plantin' some persimmon trees." He suddenly began, looking out into the garden across his shoulder. "A few years an' we'll be able to eat da first fruits, ne?"

The memory hit her so hard as if she had received a physical blow.

"_Here, eat up." A brown wrinkled fruit dangled in front of her fuzzy vision._

"I'm happy you've made it so far, Gin."

No title, no honorific.

Matsumoto felt safe again.

The two cups of tea were standing on the small table, steam rising from the greenish liquid. Forgotten, as she walked to where he was looking out into his private compound bathed in nightly shades of grey.

She could practically feel the sudden change in his demeanor at her words, the slight fluctuating of his reiatsu palpable even if he had tried to mask it immediately. A ghost of a frown appeared on his forehead as he turned to face her approaching form.

"Are you?"

The words took her off guard and she couldn't decide whether it had been a question or just his voiced acknowledgment.

"Gin… what… "

He turned around on the sill, facing her completely, bangs of smooth hair falling over his eyes. He looked so lost to her, like back then in Rukongai when he had been sitting at the lake, bathed in blood.

"I dunno where I'm goin', Ran."

Halting in her steps, the woman with the strawberry blond hair lifted her hand towards her neck, her fingers closing around the necklace, its pendant hidden in her cleavage. One day, it had been lying on her bed, shortly before she had joined the shinigami academy. A faint silvery trace of reiatsu wrapped around the chains.

Her lips parted, his name burning on her tongue, when suddenly, his head jerked around to the closed door.

Without a word, he got up and strode towards the table, taking the two tea cups and proffering one to her. Befuddled, Matsumoto extracted her hand from her necklace and took the warm cup, thoughts racing like troubled waters in a wild lake.

The stranger was back. The Gin she couldn't recognize anymore.

And he was staring at the door behind her.

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou. What a pleasure to meet you here at such a late hour."

Startled, Rangiku turned around to the owner of the velvety voice, finding Aizen Sousuke's broad form standing in the now open door. She hadn't even heard it sliding open, much less, felt his presence advancing.

"Aizen-taichou." She finally acknowledged her superior with a deep bow, sweaty hand still clasped around the cup of green tea. "I was-"

"The flowers and gifts 're just flyin' in like that." Gin's smooth voice interrupted her before she could start blabbering, which she was well aware of, she would have done. As she turned her head, she found the mask back on, a sly smile pulling the corners of his mouth up into what looked like a sneer.

"Is that so?" Aizen asked bemusedly, his eyes moving from Matsumoto to Gin and back to her irritated form. "Then I shall make my regards another time, Ichimaru-_taichou_."

The bespectacled man turned to go, but Matsumoto beat him to it.

"Please, Aizen-taichou. I shall take my leave. I believe some people are awaiting my return." Bowing once again, Matsumoto put down the cup of tea on the table standing between her and Gin. Daring to look at him, she felt something twist painfully inside her.

Gin had always prided himself with the ability to never show worthless emotions when watched by anyone. But Matsumoto had always been able to look right through his ever present grin and almost closed eyes, had known when he was acting or lying and when he was being honest.

Ever since she had first seen him again in Seireitei, she had known that he was acting. Why, she didn't know even though it had broken her back then.

But right in that one fraction of a second, she was able to see through that act, his mask having crumbled a bit then.

A flicker of pain and hurt hushed across his face like a shadow so fleetingly, that she doubted he had realized the emotion himself. She decided against imploring him with her eyes and turned back around, hastily walking past the second captain with a short "Goodbye".

Striding through the small garden, past the pond and down the alley towards Kira's office, she felt her hands trembling and balled them into fists.

"_I dunno where I am goin', Ran."_

"Idiot." She forced out between suppressed sniffles. "How should _I_ know?"

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

FINIS?!

Weeeell… R&R

We are nearing the end.


	13. Pulse

Author's notes:

Pretty short, but it couldn't be done any other way.

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

Her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist.

She could feel his muscles tense under her skin, his hand stopping mid-motion level with her eyes, the debris it was supposed to deflect hitting his shoulder and bouncing off.

"Don't move, please…" Her voice caught at the end and she had to swallow hard.

She couldn't see his face completely, but she knew there was a surprised frown producing deep wrinkles on his forehead and the smirk was no longer present, having vanished as soon as their bodies had made contact. Instead his lips now formed a silent 'Oh' as he stood motionless in front of her.

"Sorry, Aizen-taichou." His melodic voice rang out above the deafening noise of the fighting gate keepers. "Seems she got me."

All around the pair, new reiatsu signatures appeared, announcing the arrival of many capable shinigamis. Their spirit energy filled the space on top of the soukyoku hill with disturbance, threats, anger and fear.

Remorse.

Grief.

Regret.

In her right hand, Haineko was pressed against his sternum and neck in an awkward angle, her arm already protesting under the strain.

But her mind was drawn to another feeling.

The soft rhythm of his pulse. Thumping against the tips of her fingers as they pressed against the inside of his wrist.

His heartbeat had picked up speed as soon as her hand had closed around his wrist, but now, it was gradually slowing down. As if he was calming down after a long run.

Her own heartbeat was racing. A storm raging in her ribcage, thrumming so hard against her chest, that she feared he could feel it against his back. The tips of her fingers were turning sweaty and a slight tremble made her grip turn weak.

Around her, people began to talk, but she couldn't discern the words. A gibberish of noises that drowned in the infinite silence of her mind. The only sound was the thrumming of their hearts as their beats turned into a single rhythm.

He shifted slightly then and her sword hand jerked slightly when Haineko was pressed against his chest in the process. And it was this single motion of him that made her realize that he could go anytime. She wasn't holding him captive, but the other way round.

She couldn't even put the sharp blade of her zanpakutou against his throat.

_The dull side_, a voice seemed to growl somewhere in her consciousness accusingly, a lump forming in her throat at the implication.

Her heart was still racing in her chest, no longer in synch with the slow rhythm of his steady, strong pulse. Strong enough for the two of them, keeping them alive together.

They were going to kill him. There was no turning back now, nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. His grin wouldn't be able to get him out of this that time. Betrayal. He had gone against Soul Society. Against God's law.

Had betrayed _her_.

"_I dunno where I'm goin'?"_

He was leaving her behind. Forever.

If there was one thing, she was afraid of, then being alone with the knowledge that he was no longer there to watch over her.

A loud crash brought her back to reality and a bright light around Aizen's figure blinded her for a second. It was in that instant, that she felt his pulse pick up speed against her fingers and suddenly, his arm jerked forward.

Her already loose grip couldn't keep up with the motion and fell away just when another beam of brightness plunged down from the skies and engulfed his form in a glowing cage. Pain and despair burned at the back of her eyes as Haineko fell limply by her side.

"Too bad…" His arm slowly descended as his voice was carried towards her.

Don't…

"It would've been nice, if my capture had lasted a bit longer."

Please don't…

"Farewell, Rangiku."

He turned his head around and Matsumoto could finally see Gin's face.

She would never forget the sadness edged into his handsome features as he uttered his last words before he was carried towards the darkness beyond the skies trapped in light like a caged bird. Only for her to hear.

"Forgive me."

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

FINIS?!

I just assumed for this one, that they have hearts even though they are technically ghosts… otherwise Kaien-dono couldn't have left behind his, ne? X3

Probably another one or two chapters, so be so kind and drop me a line m(__)m


	14. Boredom

Author's notes:

Frigging goodness, I've finally gotten my Gin cosplay. I'm in Hueco Mundo. Oh, and my sister got a heavenly cosplay, uhm, I meant an Aizen one X3 Now we are the evil duo o…

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

A long slender finger slid across the smooth black surface of the control panel seemingly aimlessly, the reflection of the pale hand following in its wake. A small inaudible sigh escaped Gin's lips as he rested his chin in the open palm of his other hand, staring at the screen hovering in midair.

If anybody had told him beforehand that Hueco Mundo was that boring, he'd have brought… _stuff_ along. Some books maybe or someone he could actually talk to who wasn't a totally wacko espada, a sucker for ultimate justice or a power monger with a full-blown God-complex.

He could spontaneously name at least a dozen people without a second thought.

The finger made a U-turn on the black surface, lazy gaze staring at the slightly transparent screen right in front of his face.

Gin was bored. Out of his skull. And he had nothing productive to do. Which meant he had a lot of unoccupied time at hand. And that equaled thinking.

And _that_ was a bad thing. His mind was a taboo zone lately. Well, lately being exactly the moment he had stepped through the garganta and into the hollow world.

The eerie, obnoxious voice of his black and white twin double snickered contently.

It had always been there, mind you. There hadn't been one day ever since it had suddenly appeared in his head back in Rukon that it hadn't tried to gain control, drop unnecessary comments, curse him, yell at him, provoke him to fight.

And if it had kept silent, Gin had been cautious. What was it planning? Attacking in an unguarded moment? Killing shinsou completely? Collecting strength? Plots, schemes, conspiracies.

Chuckling humorlessly, Gin found the mental picture of a black and white Aizen unbelievably fitting. That man was truly their king. Sitting on his throne in all his glory and seeing down on them, using their lives like chess figures. A hollow king if there had ever been one.

God bless Tosen couldn't read minds or that clown would be having seizures by now. No one dared and talked bad about his beloved knight of justice and if he found out Gin had been thinking about such blasphemy , he'd be having a field day rambling on and on about justice this and least bloodshed that.

His twin grinned widely, the spot of compressed darkness expanding within his consciousness. Gin had gotten used to it somewhat, even though the hollow energy surrounding him like a second skin and all those freaking espada and arrancar in his close proximity were somehow functioning as a booster for that damn grinning reflection in his mind. It came out more often and resting and sleeping had by now become a gauntlet run.

It had actually started already around the time Aizen had decided to put his evil plan into motion and had killed the 46.

It had been extremely exhausting.

Gin do this, Ichimaru-taichou do that. Helping Aizen with his plan, being the evil guy in public, holding up the farce, playing the 46 every few days, doing the normal chores of a captain. Secret meetings with his heavenliness, official gatherings with the captains of the Gotei 13.

Add sleep deprivation, hunger and irritation and you get a ready to explode, slightly wrecked mind. And his alter ego was there, looming in the blackness, stalking him, greedily awaiting his chance to stab him from behind and take over.

It was too damn easy to let control slip out of your grasp for a second, especially when you were fighting a life or death battle with the shrimp captain. And that hollow inside him was only too happy to oblige.

Gnawing on his lower lip (an very uncharacteristic trait, only very few people knew about), Gin eyed the screen and then the black control panel, his index finger gliding across the surface and drawing an imaginary 'p'.

Fighting the child prodigy had been quite intense and tiring, the murderous intent having evaporated from the short captain in very lively spurts of crimson energy. How that much hatred could come out of such a small body was still an amusing mystery to Gin. He still felt slightly proud Kira had been able to keep up with their combined amount of reiatsu back then and hadn't collapsed straight away.

Unfortunately, that day had been somewhat the climax of exhaustion and Gin hadn't been too fond of the prospect of losing against the angry kid (Aizen would have never allowed him to live it down) and that dark voice had been oh so tempting.

"_Let go."_

So he had.

Gin could have easily killed Hitsugaya back then. The captain of the tenth division would have had not the slightest hint of a chance against him, but with the hollow unleashing its power, the thought of playing dirty had gained a much more appealing quality.

Momo-chan had been an easy enough target.

With love involved, conviction degenerates to desperation and mankind turns into a clump of helpless madness.

Gin could still hear his own voice yelling at his clouding mind to stop, even while shinsou's blade extended with unbelievable speed towards Hinamori's unconscious form. And then she had been there.

Haineko cracking as she saved _him_.

The grip around shinsou's hilt had tightened, the inner battle raging as _Gin_ fought to gain the upper hand and banish the other him back into the black spot.

"_Please lower your sword, Ichimaru-taichou."_ It had hurt to hear her slightly shaking voice. It had hurt to see the desperate plea in her eyes.

"_If not, I will be your opponent."_

_He_ would never hurt her. Never. Never.

The conviction of that knowledge shining in her orbs had made him feel vertiginous.

It had been that moment that he had remembered the reason why he was walking that path. The hollow wouldn't stay silent forever and as long as Rangiku's life was endangered by _his_ existence, then nothing held any meaning and everything did.

She was the sole reason for what he had been doing all those decades. Working, training, submitting, crawling.

Gin would conquer the darkness and protect her from himself. And if it meant following Aizen and gaining the King's Key, then he would cross the river of blood. Because protecting her was all he wanted to do. All he could do.

The lazy finger drew an 'o' onto the black panel and Gin looked back at the hovering screen with spiked interest.

The until then extremely patient figure he had been following for some ten minutes now, had stopped deathly still in front of a door and the reiatsu sensors in that corridor suddenly showed extreme activity (they wouldn't have been necessary, because the sudden increase of killing intent was palpable through the thickest walls).

Grinning widely, Gin sat closer to the screen, suppressing a snicker when the figure pulled out his sword with such ferocity, that the pillar to his left exploded just like the wielder did then.

"ICHIMARUUUU!!!!" If Grimmjow put any more anger into his voice, even Aizen would shudder in fear.

"Come out!! I'm gonna rip that fuckin' grin outta your mug, you bastard!!"

Chuckling openly, the silver haired ex-shinigami pressed a button on the panel and watched as another corridor opened up beside the door, the espada storming through the entrance and yelling extremely colorful abuses and threats at his non-caring surroundings.

Right on cue, the reiatsu of an all too familiar blind guy came closer, Gin heaving a heavy sigh at what was sure to come.

How he loved the corridor manipulation system! With no sane being around to talk to, it was practically the only free time activity he had. This had also caused most espada to absolutely distaste him and Gin could name a few who would love nothing more but to kill him.

Oh, and there came another potential back-stabber.

Smiling widely, the tall man turned around in his chair and watched Tosen enter the control room with a face that spoke volumes.

"Came ta talk 'bout ole times, Tosen-san?" He asked in a honeyed voice.

Gin really regretted having not had such a cool device back in Soul Society. He would have had field days playing with the corridors of the Kuchiki manor and only the thought of Byakuya-niisama losing his aristocratic cool was enough to bring an even brighter smile to his lips.

"I do not know why Aizen-sama tolerates your mere existence." Oh, here it came. "But be assured, I shall show you justice one day."

Gin waved his unoccupied hand at his 'comrade', his eyes already straying back to the screen where Ulquiorra was staring expressionless at a door that did no longer lead to his quarters.

"I'll be sure to listen, Tosen-san."

The temperature dropped a few degrees and the other man turned on his heels and vanished again.

Now honestly.

Why had nobody warned him? He could have brought magazines.

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

FINIS?!

Another chapter.

Review anyone?


	15. Defying the Sky

Author's notes:

Hmm… as always: r&r

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

This wasn't a battle anymore.

That whole ordeal had turned into a slaughter.

Metal clashed against metal as Gin brought up shinsô to deflect another attack from Hisagi, at the same time falling back on his hunches as another katana sliced through the air where his head had been a millisecond ago.

Right after Yamamoto-sôtaichô had decided that it was time to let them out of their hot prison, they had come at the three traitors screaming bloody murder. Most shinigami, as battered as they may have been (Ikkaku was looking rather worn and even Kyôraku-taichô had a few minor scratches here and there) were still in Bankai or were at least considering using it.

So by now, Tosen was doing what he could do best; Suzumushi Enmakorogi already having surrounded Komamura and his second IC plus Soi Fon. He couldn't hear a thing with that balloon wrapped around the battle field, but he was sure, Tosen was having the time of his life (_hail Aizen and his path of the least bloodshed_…)

Aizen on the other hand, was pre-occupied with his own little group of vengeful ex-comrades. God bless, Yamamoto, Ukitake and Kyôraku thought killing Aizen was their personal privilege, because to be frank, Gin despised fire and lectures and the sôtaichô was spouting both.

And Gin? Well, he was dodging most of the time.

He had a shrimp with a personal vendetta at hand and Hisagi, though the latter had some problems with his eyes (that blood loss couldn't be too healthy).

The others were still quite vehemently fighting against a half dead Barragain and a semi-frozen Halibel. About Stark's present state of existence, Gin had no clue. The guy had already been gone when the fire wall had disappeared. Probably looking for a peaceful place to sleep.

Another attack from Hyôrinmaru came with all its iciness, frozen water wrapping itself around Gin's left leg and sneaking up his thigh. And because he really didn't want his privates to be put into the freezer department, he aimed a fire kidô and defrosted his limb before the horror could happen.

"Ichimaruuuuu!!"

Why the kid taichô didn't put more energy into his Bankai instead of yelling his opponent's name every few seconds was a mystery to Gin, but he couldn't care less.

While Hisagi threw his Shikai at his legs, trying quite unsuccessfully to cut away his feet, Gin dared to look down at where Kira was crouching behind a wall of kidô.

Rangiku and Hinamori were both lying to his feet and his former right hand was doing his best to heal their sever injuries.

A grim expression appeared on his features. Not because Shiro-chan was screaming his name again, making his ears ring in annoyance, but because he had to really fight the urge to plunge downwards to where the trio was and heal her himself.

Gin had realized before he had gone to Hueco Mundo that she would be an essential part of the fighting power of the remaining Gotei 13 and that he would have to face her again in the war that had lain ahead.

But his inability to save her from any harm (if Grimmjow hadn't killed Lupi, Gin surely would have) was wrenching his heart more than he could take. And with a slight feeling of honest gratitude, he was glad Kira and Yamamoto had rescued her in his stead from that freakish monster of Halibel's Fraccion.

Again Gin dodged a double attack easily, blissfully ignoring the increasing frustration of his opponents. What had they been thinking? That the three would sit idly by and watch Soul Society strengthen their defensive and offensive powers?

Gin was quite capable himself and using his Bankai for a change would be quite entertaining, considering most shinigami didn't even knew he could spell the word, because he never used the drastic measure.

But his radar felt some explicitly strong reiatsus drawing nearer and they were faintly familiar (apparently Urahara had outdone himself with keeping Aizen's compulsory lab rats alive), so why waste energy on Histu-taichô if the real hard work was lying ahead?

Looking back down at Kira and his patient, Gin didn't put his mind into dodging another ice attack and was blown backwards right through a high building. Shaking off the plaster and glass from his white outfit, Gin suddenly felt Tosen's Bankai dissipate with a poof and turned around curiously.

The dark skinned man with the extremely stylish glasses (Gin had laughed half a day only at having recalled his first good look at them) was standing triumphantly above three falling forms as they tumbled downwards to the ground.

He himself was covered in uncountable wounds, Soi Fon's own Bankai having left behind some nice ornaments on a diversity of body parts.

It was then that they locked eyes for a second and Gin felt a slight frown furrowing his brows.

Something wasn't quite right and a feeling of foreboding spread out in his tightening guts.

"Uaaaaaaahh!!" Hitsugaya roared, another petal of his released state disappearing as he threw a river of ice down at his mildly confused arch enemy, who easily parted the wall with his own zanpakutô.

The grin on his lips was gone as Gin mumbled a coarse "Ikorose", watching as his katana extended at high velocity towards Hitsugaya. The tenth division captain brought his dragon wings around his frame to protect himself against the sudden attack, spiraling backwards as shinsô almost cracked open the ice shell.

Not wasting a second thought, Gin took the chance and shunpoed back through the hole he had created in the building and strained his mind to make out the reiatsu of his supposed comrade.

Jerking his head around abruptly, he almost missed the sight of Kira getting slammed into a house. He was unconscious even before he crashed into the ground.

Frozen into place, Gin watched as Tosen kicked aside Hinamori and grabbed Matsumoto by her arm, lifting her up until her pale features were level with his face. His white orbs looked up at Gin, jaw muscles clenching and unclenching.

"I shall show you justice."

There wasn't one coherent thought on Gin's mind. Just blank nothingness as he realized that he wouldn't make it even with shunpo. Tosen's katana sliced through the air just as Gin heard a whispered "No" coming from someone behind him.

The dark spot in his mind spread out its tentacles.

And then he was moving.

Matsumoto in his arms even before he himself could realize it.

Shinsô dripping with fresh blood as Tosen collapsed into a boneless heap to the ground.

A porcelain mask shattering to reveal Gin's sweaty face.

A shuddered breath escaped his lips as he knelt down in mid-air, holding the woman close against his chest. Her mere presence silencing the snickering monster in his head.

It was then that Gin realized that his surroundings had gone absolutely silent. Deathly stillness wrapping around his form like cold air and when he looked up, he found every shinigami present staring at him.

His lips transformed into a faint smile as he placed Rangiku's body carefully onto his lap, her head being held upright as it lay in the crook of his left arm. Her breathing was ragged, the gaping hole in her side still wide open and bleeding.

Expertly, Gin allowed his reiatsu to pour from his right hand into her form, glowing pale blue as he started where Kira had stopped. Almost instantly, her heartbeat slowed down and her breathing became more even.

Aizen would have his head.

Chuckling humorlessly, Gin didn't dare and look up from the ashen features of the sole reason for his existence. No-one had resumed fighting, all eyes transfixed on him. They were all in shock and it needed some seconds until the first fight involving Halibel started off again.

Oh, there was no doubt. Aizen would have his head.

It had been one thing not to kill little Hitsu or let the ryoka boy through or play with the corridors of Las Noches.

But killing Tosen? Well, Gin could have signed his own death sentence way easier.

Matsumoto suddenly tensed in his arms and Gin's heart jumped when he found her eyes cracking open, green orbs staring up at him.

His last and only chance to regain complete control over his own consciousness and soul via the King's Key shattering like all those dreams in his childhood. _"Lets plant trees and sell their fruits on the market!" "Together we're unbeatable, Gin!" "Lemme take care of ya. Ran."_

"G-Gin?" Her voice was so feeble, that he could only guess by the way her lips moved what she had tried to say.

Quite a few sources of immense reiatsu suddenly flared up then, telling Gin that the rest of the battles had resumed again, but he knew what was to come.

He'd been around Aizen for a long, long time and as much as the power hungry man would have liked to deny it, he wasn't the only one who could manipulate and hide his true strength.

Gin had studied him, never trusting, never showing any signs of lacking crucial loyalty. He _understood_ Kyoka Suigetsu, _knew_ how it worked. Hell, he had been on the receiving end of the hypnosis for so many decades that he could tell when Aizen was Aizen and when a talking stick was staring at him through shimmering glasses.

A black coffin suddenly surrounded Yamamoto and then Gin felt it.

Three individual sources of spirit energy speeding straight towards him, one so faint that it was barely perceptible. Pursing his lips, Gin doubled his efforts to heal Rangiku's wounds and found her eye lashes fluttering irregularly as she strained herself to stay conscious.

"Gin… why?"

"I came ta save ya, Ran." He mumbled, lowering his head towards her face. "Forgive me for bein' late again." His lips touched her forehead in a feather-like kiss.

He had only another second to decide what to do.

There was no way he could dodge all three opponents. Hitsugaya came from behind and the other strong owner from his right. Those two weren't his actual problem though. They wouldn't hurt Rangiku and merely kill him.

The real danger came invisible to everyone from the front. Aizen wasn't a forgiving man and Tosen –as unnecessary as his existence may have been in Aizen's eyes- had been a viable instrument to get rid of some ants and Gin had squashed the bastard somewhat too early in Aizen's ultimate plan.

He would slice through him and the woman he was holding close without a second thought.

So what was Gin to do?

He would die one way or another, but taking her down with him wasn't even an option.

Smiling ruefully down at Rangiku, he squeezed her upper arm slightly. His right hand extracted from her side, the wound closed to the point where only a hateful scar remained on the immaculate skin.

Shinsô had never been so heavy before as Gin gripped the hilt and brought it up, just as he felt the cool rush of air as another _invisible_ katana was brought down from above, sparks flying as the two wielders fought for dominance.

Right on cue, Hitsugaya and the other attacker reached their goal, their reiatsu so strong that it almost suffocated the woman in his arms. A broad grin spread out on Gin's face when he heard a disembodied snort from the man hiding from everyone's eyes right in front of him. He pressed down harder, Gin having a hard time keeping the invisible katana from slicing cleanly through his skull.

"I've had high hopes for you, Gin."

"Me too."

And then two zanpakutôs were there, Gin having closed his eyes in anticipation of the imminent pain.

But there was none.

Frowning startled, Gin cracked his eyes open and stared.

Hirako Shinji and Histugaya were on either side of him, their katanas having partly vanished somewhere in the air in front of Gin. At the same moment, the pressure on Shinsô left completely and then he was there.

Aizen appeared out of the nowhere, wide eyes staring back first at him, then at Hirako and Histugaya. Incredulity mixed with white anger as he stepped back slightly, blood gushing out of the two puncture wounds in his chest.

"I-I am God… _I am_ sitting on the throne!"

Gin watched mesmerized as Aizen's body collapsed without further warning, head and torso tumbling into two independent directions. Yamamoto-sôtaichô stood solemnly in front of the four people, a slight flicker of his sword hand sending a spray of blood from his katana.

Suddenly a hand appeared on his sleeve, grasping feebly for the soft material.

Still too shocked to move, Gin stared down at Rangiku's eyes, not really surprised to find a few tears sliding down her blood stained cheeks as her pale lips parted slightly.

"Thank you."

And Gin smiled.

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

FINIS!?

This is the end… I humbly thank you all for reading so far and dropping comments here and there.

I actually wanted to kill Gin, but when I re-read the story, I was slightly shocked to find him still alive and kicking… somewhere on the road, my inner Hollow had taken over it seems. Hmm.

Well, I'm off. Feel free to write some nice reviews! :D


End file.
