From where Gin stood, leaning over one of the many balconies found within Las Noches, he could feel the ripples of an all too familiar reiatsu. Gin exhaled and watched his breath dance across the darkened sky of Hueco Mundo, his hands tucked into his sleeves in an attempt to keep himself warm.
He had waited almost three weeks for this moment. Such a long time without the God-King had left Gin to realize just how alone he was. He no longer held a connection to Soul Society, not one he could ever admit to having, at least. He had shut that part of himself off, throwing it so far away that it felt as if it had become unreachable.
The slender ex-Shinigami pushed off of the balcony so that he was standing up straight, and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. If he knew Aizen at all, he knew that the man would either pretend that nothing had happened whatsoever, or would just completely shut him out altogether.
Not particularly excited by either reaction, Gin decided he would have to just play along with whatever game the God-King chose to play. The Second in Command no longer had anything to lose; he had lost the woman he gave up everything for, and in the process, completely lost sight of who he once was. He had no friends to speak of in Las Noches, no ties to either world… he was left to become one of Aizen’s pawns.
Gin let out a snort upon that realization, and he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he meant to the man. If he truly held a purpose and would become just another victim of Aizen’s cruel game, or if he was the confidante and dear friend of the ex-Captain that he thought he had been.
With a miserable sigh, Gin began to leave the empty room. He followed after Aizen’s reiatsu ever so slowly, taking his sweet time. Finally spotting him further down the hall, Gin halted his movements and waited for Aizen to catch up to him.
“Aizen-taichou,” Gin nodded, his eyes formed into their usual slits. “It’s been a while, ne?”
Seeing Gin standing there, trying so hard to become the cold-blooded snake he always made himself out to be, Aizen cannot help but feel- -
[guilt sorrow regret i did not mean this, not this, never this, would that i could turn back time and stop all of this, i never meant for this to be the outcome, Gin, i- -]
no remorse for his actions. Where before leaving Gin alone would have been a most fruitful endeavor, to see his carefully crafted mask crack & splinter at the realization that Aizen could not always be by his side, now it was simply another occurrence in Hueco Mundo that garnered no comment, no second glance, not even a moment of thoughtful contemplation.
If -and when- Aizen left Gin again, it would be because he had just finished killing him.
[the sentiment still strikes a chord in his otherwise indifferent heart, as if in mention of a love letter torn to pieces, or a photograph left to burn]
“So it has.”
It has been three weeks, nearing a month but not quite. Aizen, disdainful of time and yet subject to its lures, a soul caught between time & pressure, considers this a record event. Memorable, even, set to be the most time he has spent away from Gin without thinking of him, in any conscious manner.
“I assume nothing of note has happened in my absence, as no one is rushing to me with news. So- How are you, Gin?”
False pleasantries, or perhaps the motion of them. Aizen does not smile, looks Gin straight through his shuttered lids, lets his words ring as soulless, as damning, as civil as they are meant to be, and while he does so, he asserts to himself that he is pursuing the only logical route of action.
[if i have to remember, for twenty-thousand years, how i continued to hurt you, i would go mad]