Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Minutes to Midnight ❯ A Toppling Mistake (Part I) ( Chapter 24 )

Title: A Toppling Mistake (Part I)

Characters: Hueco Mundo cast, Ichigo/Gin, Yoruichi

Rating: M

Warning: Violence, Language, boy/boy smut

Words:

Description: Their first mistake wasn't enough.

 

 

Ichigo was paying attention.

 

Or to be more precise, he was attempting to pay attention. He sat up straight in his seat and watched Aizen explain their moves; his ears caught each echo of the man's voice. Yet, his senses were somewhere else entirely. More specifically, on the tabi-clad foot that kept creeping up and down his leg.

 

He knew who the perpetrator was. Probably everybody in the meeting hall knew the reason for the faint blush high on his cheeks. That didn't make Gin any easier to ignore, however.

 

In order to distract himself from his lover's rather successful attempts to arouse him, Ichigo focused his attention on those present. Rukia, Renji, and Byakuya - unsurprisingly - were not among them. The Shinigami were not quite adjusting to life in Las Noches. They still refused to join Aizen's cause, not that Ichigo expected them to, and yet so selfishly requested help. The geta-boushi was providing it simply for the sake of his own amusement in trying to fix Byakuya.

 

Ichigo felt no pity for the Kuchiki noble. He thought that Byakuya probably deserved it. Maybe it would teach the man something about humility.

 

As if on cue, Aizen chose that moment to shift the topic at hand. “I would like to take this chance to discuss our current guests,” the lord of Hueco Mundo stated, hands propped on the table as he swept his gaze over his gathered commanders - the top five Espada, Ichigo, Tousen, Izuru, Gin, and the geta-boushi. Though Ichigo highly doubted that Aizen commanded Urahara to do much of anything.

 

Beside Ichigo, Stark emitted a sound that might have been a snort at Aizen's declaration. But Ulquiorra at least sat up straighter.

 

“What about them, Aizen-sama?” he queried.

 

And Ichigo had the faint thought of `teacher's pet' as he rolled his eyes.

 

Gin's foot rose higher on his thigh. The smirk of victory on his face was pretty plainly obvious to everyone, and Ichigo wondered if Aizen even noticed all the groping that was clearly in the works. He shifted in his chair but only succeeded in making Gin's path easier. Heat was beginning to stain Ichigo's cheeks as he hissed a warning under his breath, but his lover was either pretending not to hear him or purposefully ignoring him.

 

“I would like to stress that they are not to be harmed,” Aizen continued, his voice keeping that authoritative tone and his orders came with a certain pulse of reiatsu that made the Espada flinch. Though the effort didn't even show in Aizen's expression. “Which means that I leave it to you to issue the order to the lower ranks so that they understand this. I will not tolerate any attempts at consuming our Shinigami guests. Clear?”

 

“Yes, Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra was quick to agree, and the others claimed more or less the same.

 

Stark grunted, which was taken as an agreement. Barragan continued to look bored, and Ichigo suspected he wasn't as loyal to Aizen as everyone thought. He still didn't trust the Espada, convinced that Barragan was just looking for a moment of weakness to strike Aizen down. And Halibel merely inclined her head, seemingly content to follow whatever her lord commanded.

 

“They're our friends,” Nel chimed in and wiggled excitedly in her seat despite the firm hand placed on her head to keep her in place. Even nearly asleep, Stark was absurdly strong. “O' course we wouldn'ta eat 'em.”

 

Aizen smiled patiently in the fifth Espada's direction. “Correct. They are our friends,” he agreed. “They are also not our prisoners, but unfortunately, they still cannot be allowed to leave either. They know too much, and I will not take that risk.”

 

“We will be required to watch them, then?” Halibel questioned, a tone of faint boredom seeping into her voice as she gestured with one hand.

 

“Yes,” Aizen answered. “That will be necessary. I give them freedom to gain their trust, but without fully understanding their motives, I cannot fully trust them in return.”

 

Barragan snorted and shifted his bulk in his chair, making it creak ominously. “Why bother?” he grunted and leaned his chin on his massive hand. “They are just a waste of space here. Not even half as useful as the other invaders you let stay,” he added with a pointed look in Ichigo and the geta-boushi's direction.

 

Across from Ichigo in a seat chosen for the sole purpose of teasing him beneath the table, Gin finally stirred. And the edges of his smile tightened with annoyance. There were few who could tell the difference, but Ichigo and Aizen were two of them. Gin was getting annoyed, and his reiatsu was subtly climbing as a result.

 

Barragan had been the loudest protester against the two former Soul Society allied Shinigami entering Hueco Mundo and remaining. And he still expressed his displeasure quite frequently, though it was always carefully worded in Aizen's presence. Ichigo had taken to avoiding Barragan whenever possible, and he knew that Urahara always had a bevy of perfectly polite insults to return when the Espada started in on his nonsense.

 

The third Espada respected Aizen because he was strong and was their ruler. He was intelligent, and he had the plans to take down the Shinigami. He respected his fellow Arrancar and Espada to a certain degree depending on their own abilities, and he tolerated Tousen. But he had never liked Gin and Ichigo had come to learn that as well. Which meant that his dislike had automatically sifted down to Ichigo, the moment he had aligned himself in any way with Gin, from the moment he and Gin had become friends. And he didn't like Urahara simply because the man was far too smart. And too close to Aizen in such a seemingly small amount of time.

 

In any case, the feelings were mutual.

 

Slitted eyes pinned themselves on the older Espada's wrinkled face, and the sense of threat in the room began to rise. Ichigo didn't much like Gin standing up for him, but he also couldn't prevent his lover from doing so either. He supposed that Gin considered it his duty as older and stronger to protect him in some way.

 

Sensing the tension building, Aizen smoothly continued talking. “You may be right,” he conceded, tone cutting into the latent hostility as though it were edged with his own reiatsu. “But it would be foolish to throw away a stone before polishing to be certain there is not a gem beneath. They may yet prove to be useful.”

 

“Or more trouble than they are worth,” a voice inserted knowingly, a happy chirp in its feminine tone and completely unexpected.

 

In tandem, most of the eyes in the room shifted to the door, even as Barragan sniffed at Aizen's calm diffusion of the situation and settled back into his chair.

 

“Yoru-chan!” Urahara cried happily, glad to see his dear friend since it had been quite some time since he had met with the Shihouin heir.

 

Ichigo himself was surprised to see Yoruichi standing in the doorway. As she stepped into the room, he was more shocked to see who she had brought with her. Garbed in all white and managing to fit in perfectly with the rest of those seated in the room was Ishida Uryuu. A faint look of perturbation marked in his expression, though that was hardly different than usual.

 

“Soul Society is not too happy with Byakuya-bo's disappearance,” Yoruichi added and walked around the table, oblivious to the looks of confusion the Espada were sending her direction.

 

None were aware of her existence or her relationship to the boss and Urahara. Ishida remained in the doorway, one elbow propped on the arm he had folded over his chest. He didn't seem the least bit concerned to be standing in a room filled with Arrancar and Tousen.

 

Rounding the table, Yoruichi's face lost its business-like appearance as she happily declared, “Ki-kun!,” and threw her arms around the shop owner. She wrapped Urahara in a big hug and dropped a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

 

Looking mildly annoyed, Aizen returned to his seat with a regal motion. Now that Yoruichi was present, all attempts at maintaining decorum were useless. She moved at her own pace.

 

Content to let the two friends have their loud and undignified reunion, he shifted his attention to the other unexpected guest. “Ishida-kun, how good of you to join us.”

 

A pale finger pushed his glasses further onto his nose. “An unfortunate necessity, Aizen-san. I had little choice in the matter.” And it was clear from his tone just who he meant.

 

Ichigo, however, couldn't help but feel glad that Szayel wasn't present at this particular meeting. The bedamned eighth Espada would practically be twittering in joy. He didn't know what Ishida had done to garner his attention, but Ichigo felt sorry for the Quincy. The Arrancar's scientist's obsessions could run rather deep and long.

 

“All the same,” Aizen replied and seemed to relax in his seat. “Your presence will be of aid.”

 

A small smirk crossed Ishida's lips. “That much I can believe.”

 

Amused, the lord of Hueco Mundo returned his attention to the idiots beside him and cleared his throat demonstratively. “Yoruichi,” he called out rather loudly, “you had something important to relay, I assume?”

 

With a grin and friendly punch to Urahara's shoulder, the Shihouin heir nodded and perched herself on the arm of the geta-boushi's seat. “News straight from Seireitei,” she explained as she crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against Urahara for balance. “And I've a feeling you won't be as pleased to hear it as you were to see me.”

 

“What a pity,” Aizen drawled, removing his hands from the table. He gestured towards her, settling one elbow on the arm of his chair and resting his chin atop his fingers. “Continue.”

 

Pleased to be the center of attention, Yoruichi launched into divulging the information she had so carefully brought them. And Ichigo found that the groping had ceased at the appearance of two new faces. A part of him was disappointed, but it was ignored by the part of him that was intrigued as what Yoruichi had to say filtered through to his conscience. He shifted forward in his chair.

 

“First of all, I wanted to say that the upper ranks are not happy with your recent escapade in Soul Society,” she began, though it was said with a smirk of amusement, proving that she cared very little about how their enemies felt. “Especially with what happened to the late captain of the tenth.”

 

Gin snorted, speaking for one of the first times in the meeting. “I'm sure they ain't talkin' 'bout the truth behind it either,” he commented, and Ichigo just knew that his lover was still feeling some edge of that original rage.

 

Hitsugaya had been dealt with and given his due, but that didn't mean all was well and still. And the prodigy's last minute insults had managed to strike where they would hurt the most, ensuring lingering aftereffects. Gin would never admit it, and Ichigo knew this, but he would never forget Hitsugaya's words. Izuru faced the same problem. And to bring up the tenth division, Hitsugaya, or any combination of the two to his face prompted a sparkling of rage in those normally kind blue eyes.

 

“That would be a no,” Yoruichi agreed, dragging Ichigo's attention back towards her. “The old man's trying to keep everything hushed, but fortunately, Zaraki was the one to find Hitsugaya and the little message you two--”

 

A cough interrupted her words, very subtly coming from Izuru's direction.

 

“--three,” she amended with an amused grin, “left behind. He's asking all the right questions and poking Yamamoto, refusing to let things lie. Thanks to him, we've got others doubting.”

 

Sneaking a glance towards Aizen, Ichigo wasn't surprised to find him unmoved in his position but a sly smile still curling on his lips. It was a look that meant he was contemplating or that certain pieces were effectively falling into place, just as he had hypothesized they would.

 

“Others?” the lord of Hueco Mundo prompted.

 

She wagged her finger in his direction. “I can't reveal all my sources, Sousuke,” Yoruichi chided teasingly. “Otherwise, I wouldn't have any mystery.”

 

“If you actually had any left, I would be surprised,” Urahara drawled from nearby and poked a finger into her back.

 

Several sitting at the table chuckled as Yoruichi rolled her eyes and very casually shoved an elbow his direction. Urahara easily avoided the half-hearted attempt, chuckling in amusement.

 

“Don't pair up against me,” Yoruichi retorted and reclined further against her dear friend, as though planning to crush him with her weight. One elbow settled on his shoulder. “Besides, the matter of who is straying from Soul Society's carefully planned track is not as important as what the upper echelons are crafting at the moment.”

 

Her hint of soon-to-come violence perked those at the table, even the waning attention of the Espada. Barragan in particular.

 

Aizen's fingers rubbed over his chin, consideration replacing the amusement. “Another invasion?” he posed, mind already churning out possible outcomes that were evaluated, weighed, tossed aside or kept.

 

Yoruichi nodded. “But a bit stealthier than their cannon attempt, which no one will admit would've failed dismally even if you hadn't destroyed it.”

 

That left few options. Especially considering that a full-scale invasion of captain-level opponents was the furthest thing from subtle and possibly the only maneuver other than stealth tactics that would put a dent in Aizen's forces.

 

“The Onmitsukidoh then,” Gin inserted, usual grin flattening into a thoughtful frown. Ichigo could tell that his lover was contemplating just what Soul Society was planning. And like the teenager suspected, it was far from good.

 

“What can I say?” Yoruichi commented with a dismissive flick of her wrist and a nonchalant expression. “The Kuchiki were a bit angry that their head was `kidnapped,' as they termed it. They've pushed Seireitei to get him back.”

 

The fingers of Aizen's free hand tapped a quick rhythm on the arm of his chair, new calculations spinning behind his eyes. “It is about Kuchiki-hime then,” he mused aloud, an inkling of a plan beginning to form. A counter-attack already in the works. As well as a hefty dose of suspicion.

 

The war between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo was not so simple that Seireitei would spare little expense to rescue one man, no matter what influence the Kuchiki family held. Particularly since two lower Shinigami had disappeared with him and in a method that pointed fingers not towards kidnapping but willing betrayal. Aizen had the feeling that there was more beneath the surface. Regardless, he would question Yoruichi further when others weren't present, certain that the Shihouin heir would only divulge certain information to a select audience.

 

“Precisely,” the woman agreed with a snap of her fingers that echoed through the room. “According to my sources, they want him back. And that's going to be their next move.”

 

Bored with the discussion, Barragan grunted, waving one burly hand. “Just give the thing back then,” he suggested with a disinterested stare. “Without any reiatsu, he's pretty much useless. They can have their broken toy.”

 

“That is not an option,” Aizen stated sharply, pinning his third Espada down with a firm glare. “Lack of reiatsu or not, with the Kuchiki angered, Seireitei's power has been diminished. I am not afraid of whatever they think to send our way.”

 

Barragan recoiled in his seat, effectively chastised. He tried to fake it with a cough and a squaring of his shoulders, but it was clear he feared Aizen's anger like the rest of the Espada. The look faded from his face, however, when Urahara chose to comment as well, his loathing for the exiled captain apparent in his expression.

“He is right,” the shopkeeper agreed, inclining his head. “Especially since the Kuchiki have been working towards finalizing a stranglehold on Chamber 46.”

 

Barragan wasn't completely convinced. A seat over from him, Stark stirred, shooting the third Espada a look that was clearly a warning to keep his damn mouth shut. Unless he wanted to face Aizen's wrath, which was never a safe option.

 

“What are we going to do about it, boss?” Stark drawled, proving that he had been listening at least part of the time. His special ability to know and react to everything going on around him no matter how deeply asleep.

 

Aizen smirked, lowering his arm from where he had balanced his chin and drawing up straight in his high-backed chair. “We protect our assets,” he explained, as though it were as simple as that. “Which means I want a full guard on our guests. Stark, Halibel, I'll expect you and your fraccion to take care of this.”

 

The named Espada agreed with little argument, though Barragan couldn't help a noise of discontent. He didn't like being left out and was well aware that his little outburst earlier might have lowered him in his lord's esteem. Ulquiorra lacked the will to argue. And Nel had fallen asleep, not that Ichigo was surprised.

 

What shocked him though was that she had slumped over and was drooling on Ulquiorra's arm, snuggled against his side. The fourth Espada didn't seem the least bit perturbed by this and took the wet spot on his uniform in stride. The suspicions Ichigo had been building about their relationship began to strengthen as Gin's words echoed in his head, remarks made with that sly tone as if he knew something that Ichigo did not.

 

The familiar sound of the geta-boushi's fan snapping open drew Ichigo's attention back to his sensei. The fan was flicked in front of Urahara's face, already shadowed eyes taking on a contemplative gleam.

 

“Perhaps it would also be in our best interests to increase the eyes on our perimeter,” he suggested with all the tone of one who fully expected it to quickly become a command.

 

A glance was exchanged between the two “special friends,” understanding passing easily between them. Aizen's brow twitched, and he focused his gaze on his favorite.

 

“Ulquiorra, I would like you to handle that,” he efficiently ordered, seeming not to notice the way Barragan's hands tightened on the arm of his chair.

 

Overlooked for a lower rank, the third Espada was sufficiently angered. The faint crack that echoed through the room was ignored by everyone. Except perhaps Urahara, who noted the noise and the action that created it with the same efficiency that he seemed to gather all other knowledge.

 

“Yes, Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra answered in his clipped monotone, inwardly pleased that more trust had been placed in him yet again.

 

The fan waved once more. “That's solved then,” Urahara inserted cheerily. One finger jabbed Yoruichi in the back. “Alright, neko-chan, was there anything else?”

 

Rolling her eyes at the nickname, she shook her head. “Not at this point, no.”

 

“And Ishida-kun?” Gin questioned and glanced curiously to the Quincy, who hadn't spoken since his initial introduction nor made any explanations as to his appearance. “What made ya decide ta leave the others and come here?”

 

The teenager shrugged, waving one hand dismissively as his glasses gleamed in the pale light. “Call it curiosity, Ichimaru-san. Or perhaps even revenge. Whichever you like.”

 

“I find it hard to believe that you're here to help,” Ichigo put in with a snort, remembering how much trouble he had gone through getting Ishida to leave in the first place. “Unless there's something in it for you. Something big.”

 

The Quincy had been irretrievably stubborn for what he had considered running away. He wanted to confront the Shinigami and demand an explanation, heedless of the consequences. It had been strange to be the rational one for once, at least for Ichigo. Ishida hadn't seemed to realize just how much danger he was facing.

 

If Soul Society was aiming to kill Ichigo, a Shinigami of sorts and by rights one of their own, what would they do against a Quincy? A race that they had already tried to eradicate once before? And if they were willing to assassinate a kind girl who had only ever helped them, would they feel guilty about killing a bespectacled boy who was pretty adept at ridiculing them?

 

It had taken Orihime's guileless smile and gentle request for Ishida to see reason. Ichigo wasn't certain what she had said, but it had worked. Ishida had agreed to go for the sake of protecting Ichigo's family and for living to fight another day. Though he had vowed that he would take part in the battle at some point, unwilling to let the threat against his life go unpunished.

 

Perhaps that was his reason for being here today.

 

Cool eyes pinned Ichigo down from behind the glare of his glasses, carrying all the power of a Kuchiki glacial glower. “Luckily, we don't have to rely on your intuition alone, Kurosaki,” Ishida retorted with all of their usual biting humor, very subtly insulting him.

 

At least, some things hadn't changed.

 

“And with that,” Aizen smoothly intervened to cut off the lightning tension between the two reluctant friends, “this meeting is concluded. You are all dismissed.”

 

Somehow, Ichigo felt he had missed something. That there must have been more to the meeting, but Aizen was trying to end it sooner because there was more he wanted to discuss without all ears present. He remained in his seat as the Espada rose to go about their duties, Stark and Halibel already converging to discuss the best way to organize the extra guard to be placed on Byakuya.

 

“Ichigo.”

 

Nearly surprised to hear his name called, he blinked, gaze finding Aizen who hadn't moved.

 

“Why don't you and Izuru-kun find Ishida-kun a room,” the ex-captain suggested in a manner that pretty much made it an order. “I'm sure he will be the most comfortable near your friends.”

 

Furrowing his brow, he wanted to ask why he was being dismissed as well but erred on the side of caution. He saved that query for later, knowing he would get clearer answers from Gin before he would get something more than a riddle from Urahara or Aizen. He rose to his feet, nodding his acquiescence.

 

“Sure,” he agreed and headed for the doorway as Izuru stood and fell into line beside him. “C'mon, Ishida.”

 

“A please would have been more polite, Kurosaki.” Uryuu couldn't resist the jab, though he moved to follow the Vizard and Shinigami anyway.

 

Ichigo responded with an eye-roll, easily slipping into their usual routine despite the length of time it had been since they had last spoken. “Che. You can sleep in the hall if you want.”

 

The door closed on whatever the Quincy planned on retorting, leaving only five within the room. They waited until the last stirrings of reiatsu faded before continuing their discussion, however, the look of supreme authority departing Aizen's face and leaving behind only concerned contemplation.

 

Gin frowned a little to himself and wondered why Aizen would dismiss Ichigo as well. It wasn't as if he planned on keeping anything a secret from his lover. And Ichigo was usually privy to whatever tactics that Gin's captain had in mind. So what was with all of the secrecy?

 

“Somethin' else, Aizen-taichou?” he posed, hoping to get the gears in motion. He didn't much like all the questions and wanted answers.

 

Brushing strands of hair from his forehead, Aizen smiled that devious little grin that Gin had learned to associate with one of his innately clever plans. Rather than answering his question though, the former fifth-division captain turned towards Urahara.

 

“Eyes on the perimeter, Kisuke?” he posed, proving that he thought the suggestion was clear and utter bullshit.

 

Beside the shopkeeper, Yoruichi hopped down from the arm of his chair and swayed her way over another seat. She sprawled into it with little grace, propping one foot against the edge of the table.

 

Urahara grinned and snapped his fan shut with a loud, sharp noise. “Not everyone is aware of the sensors I placed,” he explained, which was a surprise for Gin because even he hadn't known that the man had done such a thing. “I want to keep it that way.”

 

“As conniving as ever, Ki-kun.” Yoruichi snickered, throwing her arm over his shoulder companionably and winking as though they shared some secret.

 

Patiently, Aizen eyed the Shihouin heir. And if there was a half a bit of jealousy in his gaze, he wouldn't ever admit it, though Gin was pretty sure it was there. He'd known his captain for a long time, known him even when the rest of Soul Society and all those other sycophants couldn't see him for who he really was. They had all been so blind, unwilling to look beneath the surface. But Gin, he had recognized Aizen-taichou for what he was from the very beginning. A Shinigami with plans, ambition, one who well understood just how far those higher than them had fallen. And he was a man who would do whatever it took to bring them down. Admittedly, there were a few casualties along the way. But Aizen had declared war on Soul Society a long time ago; it was a pity they were just now realizing they were in one.

 

“And so are you for that matter, Yoruichi,” Aizen stated. “Are you still unwilling to reveal your mysteries?”

 

The playful look on her face remained, but her eyes hardened, revealing her resolve. “Like Kisuke here, I also wanted as few to be aware of the knowledge as possible. One never knows if there are spies, even amongst those who are most loyal.”

 

Aizen inclined his head. “Naturally.”

 

“Shunsui and Jyuu are beginning to doubt.” Settling back in her chair comfortably and crossing one foot over the other against the edge of the table, Yoruichi continued without ever seeming to notice Aizen's brow twitching at her blatant disregard for manners.

 

“They always were fond of you, Sousuke,” Urahara commented with an agreeing hum. “Frankly, I'm not surprised.”

 

Aizen merely widened his mischievous smile, as though he had expected this outcome all along. “Continue.” He gestured to Yoruichi.

 

Flipping a small shuriken across her fingers, Yoruichi complied. “They've been asking discreet questions in all the right places, not to mention the time they are spending in the central library of the Kuchiki.” She smirked, chuckling to herself. “Jyuu's lucky that Byakuya-bo's grandmother still has that decades-old flame for him; otherwise, he wouldn't even be able to get close.”

 

“I expected retaliation,” Aizen replied carefully, coming to an understanding. “But they were even quicker than I anticipated. I assume that Byakuya's disappearance - which was not in my calculations, I add - must have insisted upon haste.”

 

“Kidnapping,” Yoruichi reminded him, dark eyes gleaming with mirth. “They call it a kidnapping.”

 

Even Gin found the very idea of that laughable. The greatest head of the Kuchiki being “kidnapped” by his very own vice-captain and younger sister. Whoever would have heard of such a thing? Especially since to the Shinigami know he held value only to his own clan because he had no reiatsu of any worth. Gin couldn't help but wonder who was already sharpening their claws to step into Byakuya's place.

 

“Still,” he interjected, brow furrowed deeply as he considered the revelations. “All this trouble fer a noble who can't wield his zanpakutou? Somethin' doesn't add up righ'.”

 

“No, it doesn't,” Urahara agreed, hand dropping to Benihime who was hooked on the arm of his chair. Fingers danced over the head of the zanpakutou-disguised-as-cane. “And my instincts are pointing in the direction of assassination. This attack may serve two purposes. The old man is senile but not stupid. He knows who his biggest threats are.”

 

Yoruichi held up her hand, face grim as she counted them on her fingers. “Sousuke. Kisuke. And Ichigo.”

 

Gin nearly jerked at the sound of his lover's name, not expecting to hear them. “Ichigo? But he's levels below us and not exactly the best strategist,” he admitted, though it wasn't something he would ever admit to the teen aloud.

 

It was the last thing Ichigo would be happy to hear, even if it was the truth. He was improving every day, strength increasing by leaps and bounds. He could take Stark four times out of five, and if he was lucky, he would sometimes win one over on Kaname when the blind bastard agreed to a spar. Which was rarely. But he still hadn't managed to beat Gin even once.

 

“Nor is he of utmost importance in terms of the order of command,” Kaname added thoughtfully, nearly startling Gin who had almost forgotten the blind man's presence.

 

It was easy to dismiss Tousen, especially when he started on another one of his rants about justice and the pure ones. Gin still didn't really understand why Aizen had chosen him to go along with their plan. The unfailing loyalty perhaps? The willing to obey commands without question? Gin didn't know, and a part of him didn't want to know.

 

Across the table, Gin could see Urahara briefly hesitate as though choosing his words carefully. “It's not exactly Ichigo's strength that Soul Society fears,” the man inserted quietly, gaze directed towards the tabletop as his frown deepened. “But Ichigo himself. The sheer rate of his growth, how quickly he learns. But most of all, how easily he can inspire loyalty.”

 

The words fell into the room heavily as the five former Shinigami of Soul Society absorbed their meaning. It was almost hard to believe that a teenage boy from the Living World, now a Vizard, could be that integral to the grand scheme of things.

 

He had been an anomaly from the beginning, a variable that Aizen hadn't included into his calculations because he hadn't existed. The boy was the very definition of chance and circumstance. And his presence was enough to throw a kink into every future possibility. No matter how much one wanted to provide for Ichigo's presence, no one could effectively predict what he would do.

 

“Urahara-san's point is valid,” Kaname commented, his face carefully bland as usual. “While Kurosaki-kun is very young, he has something that cannot be easily replicated in others. A gravitation, I suppose.”

 

It was amazing how well Tousen could withhold distaste from his tone when he willed it. Of course, after the sound chastisement Aizen had treated him to, he had learned to hold his tongue regarding Ichigo and derogatory statements. He had made it no secret how much he disliked the teenager, considering Ichigo on the same level as Zaraki Kenpachi.

 

Still, his words had merit. There was something gravitating in Ichigo. That was unstoppable and impossible to ignore.

 

“It is the very reason I hoped that Seireitei would make the mistake of sending Ichigo to me,” Aizen explained with a hint of triumph in his tone; Soul Society was far easier to predict than Kurosaki Ichigo. “He chooses to do things based on his own decisions and his own understanding. He has his own justice, and he would never betray anyone unless they betrayed him first.” One hand gestured vaguely. “He is a key, if you will, or perhaps a keystone would be a better word to use.”

 

It made sense all of a sudden, so many of the questions that Gin had been harboring that he hadn't asked. Why Aizen had allowed Ichigo to join them without so much as a questioning. Why he had almost expected it. But that didn't make the anger fade at all.

 

Seireitei regretted letting Ichigo slip through their fingers, which was pretty damn obvious. They were finally beginning to recognize their mistake. But would they really try to kill him? Ichigo wasn't even their biggest threat.

 

And then, he realized… well, why not? They were going to do it before, when he hadn't even betrayed them. When his usefulness was up, Ichigo had been marked for death. He and the rest of his talented friends. Why would assassinating him now, when he had turned their backs to them, be any different?

 

Gin's customary grin slid from his face, never a good sign, and the frown that replaced it was just this side of furious. “Wouldn't it be just as dangerous ta try an' kill him?” His voice had gone cold with righteous anger.

 

“Yes and no,” Yoruichi answered before either Aizen or Urahara could. “It all depends on which outcome Seireitei considers more of a threat. Our retaliation, or the abdication of their remaining few allies.”

 

A faint rapping filled the room, the sound of Benihime tapping against the floor in a continuous rhythm that Gin had learned to recognize as denoting the shopkeeper's worry. “Which means that we can't be certain what they are doing.” Shadowed eyes pinned themselves on Gin. “You'll have to keep an eye on him, Gin-chan. He only thinks he's invulnerable.”

 

Gin forced himself to unclench his fingers from the arm of his own chair. He had the urge to bust into Seireitei once more, find Yamamoto, and give him a worse punishment than Hitsugaya had received.

 

“Ya don' have ta tell me that,” he said instead. “I know.”

 

Urahara looked at him for a long moment. “Do whatever you must to keep him safe.” He was about to continue but was interrupted.

 

“Aww,” Yoruichi crooned, throwing herself from her seat to wrap Urahara in another hug and nearly topple him from his own seat. “Isn't Ki-kun cute? Acting all fatherly like that. Putting Isshin to shame.” She squeezed harder. “My little third-seat is growing up!”

 

Gin himself couldn't take part in the amusement that was filtering into Aizen's expression, far too worried about Seireitei's plans. He didn't like not knowing. He was confident that he could defend Ichigo, that he could handle something like the Onmitsukidoh or whatever Soul Society decided to throw at them. But he recognized that even he was fallible. And he definitely didn't like knowing Ichigo's life was blatantly in danger. Trusting him to fight his own battles was one thing. The threat of assassins was entirely different.

 

He rose to his feet, suddenly feeling antsy to return to Ichigo's side as if Seireitei was going to attack in the next ten seconds. “Is that all?”

 

Brown eyes focused on him, seeming to understand without the explanation. “Yes. That is all. We can handle the rest.” It was as much approval as it was a dismissal.

 

Gin excused himself, though they didn't really seem to notice his absence, and left the room. Behind him, Tousen was making his own final statements, probably planning on returning to whatever it was he did when he wasn't lecturing the Espada about justice or stuffing Wonderwice's head with the prospect of it. Gin expected that the last three - Urahara, Aizen, and Yoruichi - would spend some more time discussing.

 

Around him, the corridor was quiet and empty. A quick sweep with his reiatsu found that no one was nearby, either now or recently. Not that he expected anyone to snoop around, but it never paid to be careful. The scan also proved that Ichigo's reiatsu was in the direction of their shared room, likely waiting on Gin to return.

 

Turning down the hall towards the right, Gin headed straight for their quarters. For some odd reason wanting to confirm with himself his lover's health. He didn't like this feeling of worry and uncertainty. Of his heart pounding in his chest, robes sticking to the sweaty spots on his back.

 

Las Noches was silent and still around him, not that he wasn't used to it. Something about the stark white of the decorations and the large, openness of the ceilings commanded a certain respect. The Arrancar walked around as quietly as possible and saved their associations for their rooms or other places. And their other guests kept to themselves.

 

Speaking of which...

 

Ahead of him, walking down the corridor with an obvious purpose, was Kuchiki Rukia. She looked up and spotted him immediately, body stiffening in instant distrust and dislike. Yet, she tried for politeness well aware of her current circumstances. It was difficult to get the enemy to offer aid if one was rude, after all.

 

“Good evening, Ichimaru-san,” she greeted with a faint yet guarded bow. Not a stupid one, was she?

 

He couldn't help but stop to taunt her, despite his urge to find Ichigo. His irritation wasn't saved for Soul Society alone. There was something about her that he couldn't find himself to like, something that grated down his spine and made his fingers twitch for Shinsou. Kuchiki or not, Ichigo's friend or not, Ichimaru really wanted nothing to do with her. And he would have been happier if she had never come to Hueco Mundo. Or if she had died on the Soukyoku Hill to be perfectly honest. But then, Ichigo might have been a teensy bit mad at him.

 

He quirked an eyebrow in her general direction. “What manners,” he stated sarcastically. “Yer brother's taught ya somethin', after all.”

 

Rukia twitched, and he watched as her hand dropped towards her zanpakutou, but she was smart enough not to actually touch the hilt. “So it seems,” she responded, voice tight with restraint.

 

Cocking his head to the side, he let his smile widen his face, knowing how much it unnerved her. “And where're ya headin'?”

 

Large blue eyes watched him cautiously, and it was almost amusing, her wariness. As if she expected him to eat her or something. Bah, he would rather kiss the great Byakuya-hime before he'd touch her. Besides, she would hardly be a snack.

 

“The library. Am I not allowed?” It was a touch towards belligerent, but so carefully masked with a polite tone that he applauded her Kuchiki training.

 

Thin fingers waved off her statement. “Ul-chan migh' not like that, but Aizen-taichou says ya can do whatever ya want.” His grin slid just a bit closer to a sneer. “'Cept leave.”

 

“He's not--” Rukia bit back on her words, and Gin just knew what she was about to say.

 

Aizen wasn't a captain anymore. He couldn't even be considered a Shinigami. But Gin would always consider Aizen Sousuke to be his captain, and that was the truth of it. He would never accept anyone else.

 

Abruptly straightening, a bit of that Kuchiki fire gleamed in Rukia's eyes. Gin was struck by how much she resembled Byakuya, despite sharing no blood with him. Some things were learned, it seemed.

 

“I am not leaving until I help nii-sama,” she declared with surprising resolve. No longer the trembling, quivering girl he had left behind on the bridge. Perhaps in the distant future, he could learn to respect her. Maybe.

 

Gin purposely let his eyes slit open for just a moment, revealing the amber-red of his irises before closing them once more. The subtle step she took back was well worth it. He had to hold back his chuckle.

 

“Always good ta know,” Gin replied and continued walking without so much as a dismissal. It was so much fun to fuck with her mind. And besides, he didn't want to linger in the hallway for too much longer.

 

Rukia didn't immediately move, following his exit with her eyes. He had only gone three steps when she called out to him, “Are you going to Ichigo?”

 

“If ya mean my room, then yes,” he answered without turning around because it might have been just a bit too cruel to let her see the triumph on his face.

 

Ichigo was his now, and he wasn't going to give him back to her. And Gin was proud of this fact, perhaps just a bit possessive. He was proud of their relationship and couldn't help but cling to one of the few great things in his life. Nor could he resist flaunting it to Rukia every chance he could get. He wanted her to know, to clear any romantic thoughts she might have had from her mind. He wasn't going to let go.

 

“If...”

 

He heard her hesitate and realized that this really was the first time that they had actually spoken to one another since she arrived with Byakuya and Renji a week ago. She had something to say to him, and again, he marveled at her determination.

 

He glanced over his shoulder, saw her watching his back as she searched for the right words. “If you ever hurt him, I'll kill you,” Rukia declared, and her reiatsu surged just a bit, icy tendrils nipping at the outer banks of his own barely contained power.

 

Gin found it ironic, especially considering that it was Soul Society who had hurt Ichigo in the first place. But he didn't feel like bringing up that point of the past. He did, however, find it amusing that she thought she would be capable of even managing to land a hit. Not even her reiatsu could break through his; what did she possibly think she could do?

 

Even more than the amusement was the irritation that quickly won out. She believed even for a moment that Gin would seriously hurt Ichigo. And it both hurt and infuriated him, enough that he wanted to respond violently. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would rather take his own life than bring harm to his lover. It wasn't even something he had to think about.

 

The ire still simmering from the revelation of potential assassins sought to rise to the surface once more, this time fed by his annoyed fury. He forced himself to take a breath, to calm down and ease the lines of sudden tension in his shoulders. Ichigo would be angry if he attacked Rukia, he reminded himself. Especially if she was only trying to protect him and didn't understand a kamibedamned thing.

 

“The same ta ya, girlie.” His smile felt thin and stretched on his lips, and something predatory curled in his belly. “Ya lost yer chance,” he said then, voice a rasping, echoing whisper in the hall. The influence of his Hollow no doubt. “He's mine, and I'll be doin' the protectin' from now on.”

 

He had the final word, and the silence following his declaration was all the proof of that. He didn't spare her another glance, continuing towards his destination. He could feel her eyes watching his exit, but she couldn't say anything else.

 

The anger dissolved under a smirk of victory. And as he rounded the corner, he spied Sun-Sun, one of Halibel's fraccion. Apparently, she was the one chosen to follow Rukia around and keep an eye on her. Poor Arrancar.

 

Their gazes met briefly, Sun-Sun dipping her head to accord him respect, before she continued her quiet trailing. She wouldn't want to disappoint her boss, after all.

 

Gin ran into no one else as he quickly made his way back to his quarters. Ichigo was waiting.

 

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