On the eve of the Winter War, Ichimaru Gin feels as though his room has never been colder. The crescent moon shines vividly against the obsidian sky as he closes the door behind him, a gentle breeze wafting in through the open window.
‘…It keeps on gettin’ colder here’, Gin murmurs as his thin fingers push down the window pane, locking it in place. He wonders for a moment why he even bothered to leave it open in the first place, but the thought soon passes as the weight of his zanpakutō is lifted from his tired body. He rests Shinsō against the wall and smiles lightly, thinking back on all of the training he has done in order to get him to this moment.
{ All of those tired, aching bones, stretched out and sprinting and flash stepping whilst thrusting his blade at his enemy’s form… his enemy, his teacher, his captain, the creator of this dark, revenge-seeking side of a slithering snake. }
They will be proceeding with their plans in only a few hours. A good night’s rest is crucial before they are thrust into battle, the God-King speaks to his most hostile, violent weapons over a quaint cup of tea. They need to be ready for whatever the shinigami plan on throwing at them, however minuscule and ineffective their measly plans soon prove to be.
Although Aizen is confident in his plans to ascend towards the Soul-King’s glorious throne, his Second in Command feels restless… yet he keeps quiet, keeps that ever-grinning mask plastered to his face. But the apprehensive, nervous feeling continues to jolt every nerve ending in his body, until it reaches his very core… and then, as he slumps down upon his mattress in defeat, he accepts it, and lets it consume him.
‘It’s pretty funny, ain’t it?’ Gin thinks as he shifts underneath the covers of his oversized bed. ‘Alla this work, an’ time spent tryin’ ta forget… jus’ ta haveta see ‘er pretty face again. Bet she ain’t gonna be smilin’ fer me this time, nah… she ain’t gonna be smilin’ at all…’
Gin swallows as he buries his face into his pillow, trying hard not to continue with that line of thought. It’s not funny, it’s painful, yet it’s the truth he cannot allow himself to run away from.
A chill runs down his spine as he pulls his legs in closer, desperately seeking a warmth that he will never get a chance to feel.
In only a few hours, she will be standing before him, her blue eyes searching the tall, skinny form of the one person she always wished to understand.. only to eventually lose. A childhood friend, a kitsune posing as a violent, deceitful snake… the one man she ever truly loved, that had secretly loved her for more than a century, with everything that he had.
He wonders if she will be okay, if she has prepared herself for this moment.. and if she’s laying there too, tossing and turning and searching for something she’ll never have.
On the eve of the Winter War, Ichimaru Gin feels as though his room has never been colder. And yet, as the moonlight continues to filter in, Gin pretends to feel the warmth of Rangiku’s loving, forgiving arms around him. Even though the illusion is not enough to conceal the condition of his bleeding heart and his worried frame of mind, he selfishly clings to it, no longer wanting to feel homesick for a place he had banished himself from long ago.
“Reason exists for those who cannot go on living without
clinging to it. Now let’s go, Gin… to the edge of reason.”
The words haunt him, twisting and expanding and multiplying in the form of shrill screams and violent tugs at his heart and mind. The world seems dim for a moment as the ex-Shinigami’s feet remain cemented to the ground below, frozen in place.
This is not the first time Gin has seen what Aizen is capable of, and surely it won’t be the last. His throat feels exceedingly dry as he watches the figure of the man he has followed for over a century travel out into the clear blue skies and eerie silence that makes up a world he never truly got to experience. At least, not that he remembers.
Life is fleeting. In a split second, it can all be over, taken away from you without a moment’s hesitation.
Ichimaru Gin came to this painful realization a moment too late.
Reflecting on his life and the choices he had made would only serve to get him nowhere, Gin had decided. What was done was done, and he was alone now, left with nothing but his memories and the promises he had broken. Two hearts along the way were destroyed by him; one on purpose, that would only break his in return, striking him down with three blows he wouldn’t dare forget, and the other by accident, never wanting to harm her, or cause her any grief.
In his final moments, he was selfish. He wished to return to those warm summer nights in Soul Society, in Rukongai, beside his childhood friend. Before he knew of true suffering, and agony, and the damage that his own lanky fingers could inflict on another person. Before the mask of deceit and evil became his real face. He couldn’t see her as she cried over him, nor could he open his mouth to say the things he so desperately wanted to say, but he could feel her, and for Ichimaru Gin… well, that was enough.
He would always remember his days as a captain fondly. The friends he had made who liked him despite his unsettling appearance and creepy smile. He felt home there, he felt like himself. And so his ghost would live on, wearing that haori, the one he was proud to earn.
Even though Ichimaru Gin didn’t like to reflect on the past, he would always look back on it with a smile.
It wasn’t often that Gin allowed himself the luxury of reminiscing. He wasn’t one for deep and heavy thoughts, even though the complexities of his plans required copious amounts of planning and deceit. It was much too overwhelming for him to think about what he had done and where his plans would take him. Although, as Ichimaru Gin leaned against the edge of his balcony, overlooking the desert sands of Hueco Mundo, he allowed himself to recall her fondly.
His eyes opened, almost as if he was looking back into hers. He imagined her back in their happiest moments together, when her eyes were encased in a fiery passion that burned for the world around her. He didn’t want to think about the hell he had put her through. He refused to believe that she would waste her time remembering him, remembering how he had hurt her. She was strong and would move past it, and he would let her if it meant that she could continue on with her life happily.
He knew that, even if he succeeded in killing Aizen, there would be no way he could return to Soul Society. In the pursuit of something good, he had partaken in many evil acts. He did not expect forgiveness, nor did he even consider the idea. He had never wanted anything from anyone… while attempting to get back what was taken from a childhood friend, Gin had sacrificed everything. His own life didn’t matter if it meant that he could protect the woman he cherished.
In moments such as these, Gin wished that he had taken something with him. A memento of the girl who would never know just how much she meant to him, something to help him get through the days in the barren wasteland he inhabited.
Perhaps it would have helped him to stay sane as he walked alongside the man he was destined to hate, destined to kill…. or at least attempt to. Though he was sure his resolve would not waver in the slightest. In the end, he would do what he had to… even if it meant losing his life.
Gin does not allow himself to reminisce. But, every so often, he remembers her… and he remembers how fiercely he loves her.
Heartache. Agony. Fear. Hatred.
Some of the many emotions that Ichimaru Gin felt in his final moments.
If anyone were to freeze that moment in time as he reached out for Aizen’s Hogyoku, which housed all of his reasons for his betrayal, one would have seen intense hatred flash in his blue eyes. It was an indescribable feeling, really. Everything that he had worked for, including the false hope of seeing Aizen’s mangled body on one of Karakura’s streets, had fallen apart right in front of him. The evil, powerful man that had now evolved in front of him, left Gin with nothing. He knew, as the Hogyoku dematerialized within the palm of his hand, that it was hopeless. That this would be the resting place of everything he had fought for his entire life.
His heart and mind were screaming at him, yet he continued to push forward with everything he had left. The slash across his chest that Aizen had brutally inflicted upon him was nothing. The emotions running through Gin’s soul were much more painful to bear, emotions that he had turned off for over a century. Would this really be it? Would he truly be remembered as being a monster? Had he really failed, after planning for all of this time?
He knew he had made mistakes and had become part of the monster he had always wanted to destroy, but there he was, trying even though there was no hope left. There had been no other opportunity, he had told himself. He had to wait until Aizen was alone, in Karakura Town. It was his only chance.
He thought about seeing Rangiku, seeing her love for him up on that rooftop. That’s when he knew. He didn’t have to get back that stupid orb in order to make her smile, in order to make her happy. He could have done that… if he had just stayed beside her.
And how painful that feeling had been, the moment he realized. That it was too late. That he had hurt her more than he ever thought he would. He never realized how important he had been to her. How, in the end, she had loved him as much as he had loved her.
His hand crept closer and closer to that shining orb, his heart in his throat as he made his final push to grab it. He knew there was no chance, but he had to at least try…
And, as Aizen Sosuke tightly grabbed his wrist, Ichimaru Gin felt the horrible sense of defeat. In the next few moments, he would be dealt two death blows… His arm would be severed from his body and Aizen’s zanpakuto would be thrust through his heart. And that would be it.
In those final moments, the hatred and fear left his body. Shock invaded his senses as his arm was ripped off, leaving him unable to feel anything. As blood dripped from his mouth and hit the cool cement below, he felt nothing but sadness. Failure. He had failed, in every sense of the word.
And, worst of all…. she would never know how much he had truly loved her. And perhaps his original goals of making her happy were now completely in vain, knowing that he had hurt her far worse than ever before. And she would cry, perhaps nonstop, at the thought of what could have been.
A restless, frightened mind forced Gin to awaken from his slumber. A heavy heart, weighed down with such bitterness and despair, caused constant nightmares for the snake-like man. Gin clutched at the fabric clinging to his chest, dampened by his perspiration.
He couldn’t remember much, other than screaming. A frightened child, being put in harm’s way. An innocent little girl.
A memory all too familiar.
Gin’s eyes flung open in order to take in his surroundings. His shaky breaths began to calm down as his blue eyes made their way towards the moon of Hueco Mundo. It mocked him, reminding him of everything that he had lost.
The sun, the feel of his toes curling around blades of grass, the honey-colored hair of his childhood friend that glimmered like gold under the sunset…. things he knew he would never be able to see or enjoy again.
With a sigh, Gin puts up another mask. Always hidden under a facade, never allowing his true emotions to get the best of him. He knew that, if he had let those feelings through to the surface, it would be the end of him.
And he was too far along now to ever turn back.
Not one for ever truly appreciating the light of the moon, Gin stared blankly out into the horizon. The sky was dark, no traces of stars off in the distance. Not now, not ever. A completely barren land, deserts upon deserts void of all emotion. There was nothing here.
It was quiet where he was, away from all of the chaos that constantly invaded the confines of Las Noches. An escape was needed, just a moment away from all of the arrancar and espada. He knew he was not well liked in Aizen’s kingdom, other than by one or two of the ranked espada, and sometimes it bothered him. Gin had grown accustomed to wearing masks his entire life, hiding his true intentions and emotions from everyone.
Sometimes, he wondered, if he had lost himself along the process. After hiding who he was for so long, what was left? A shell of the little boy who had once been so passionate about life? No one knew the real Ichimaru Gin, not anymore. He often wondered if he even knew himself.
“Such sad thoughts,” he said aloud to the moon, cursing himself for feeling this way. “This ain’t gonna do.”
With a sigh, Gin laid down on the cold pillar, feeling the cool surface seep into his back. His eyes opened, blue upon a black endless sky, as he thought about who he was…and who he desperately wanted to be.
He would always remember the frigid winter breeze as it filtered into their tiny home, sweeping up his silver strands of air and leaving goose bumps all over his skin. Creamy pale limbs tangled under sheets, pulling them upwards in an attempt to shield his body from the cold. He had always been unsuccessful in keeping himself warm.
Often times the air was so cold, his fingers would turn a light shade of blue. He’d shiver as he’d continue to feed their little fire with sticks and pieces of wood he had collected before the long winter months had arrived. Though he sometimes felt he would freeze to death, he hardly ever complained.
Gin had always gone out of his way to make sure that the little girl who shared his home remained as warm as possible, putting his own needs on the backburner in order to keep her feeling safe. He had grown to care for her more than his own life, though he wouldn’t ever admit that aloud. It was too scary for him at that age, the idea of love. The feelings that overwhelmed him as he watched her body shake left his heart feeling heavy, wanting desperately to make everything better.
He had only ever wanted to make everything better…
.. Ah. An’ so here we are, journal. We’ve gone through so many parts a’ my past, from tha moment I met Ran-chan to helpin’ fake Aizen-taichou’s death. And now, we finally git ta one of tha hardest memories fer me ta think about. Tha thought of relivin’ this moment is enough ta place such a horrible ache in my heart, fer days and days ta come.
This is for all o’ tha things I wish I had been able ta say, but never got tha chance to, Rangiku. Maybe, someday, ya will find this journal. Maybe you’ll be able ta read all these entries, an’ learn ‘bout all of the horrible things I’ve done in tha name of love.
As the years went on, I grew up real quick. I went from Aizen-taichou’s lieutenant to tha captain of tha third squad. Every night after completin’ my duties as a superior officer, I’d make sure no one noticed me as I crept over ta Aizen-taichou’s home.
What seemed like captains jus’ being friendly wit one another, was so much more than that. Most people thought that ‘cuz I had been in tha fifth squad an’ used ta work under Aizen-taichou, that we were jus’ pals. It wasn’t weird that we would meet up fer tea, or ta jus’ relax after work.
An’ that was tha biggest mistake anyone ever made.
Aizen-taichou had spent years plannin’ his own death. It had taken me years ta get used to tha idea of me becomin’ tha bad guy. I wasn’t real fond a’ the whole thing, but I knew better than ta ever question Aizen-taichou’s plans.
After tha whole incident wit Hirako-taichou an’ the hollow experiments, Aizen-fukutaichou became Aizen-taichou. And I became his lieutenant.
Though I was still young, I was known ‘round Soul Society as bein’ a child prodigy. Becomin’ a seated officer of tha Fifth Squad wasn’t all too shockin’, but what really surprised tha Gotei 13 was when I took Aizen’s place in tha squad.
The closer I got ta Aizen, the more he told me. I ain’t really sure why he decided to let me in as much as he did. After all, why’d he deem it necessary ta tell me Kyōka Suigetsu’s only weakness? I dun think I’ll ever really know.
I remember tha moment vividly. Bein’ called into his home, away from tha rest of tha Gotei 13. The way tha trees rustled against one another as the wind swept through their branches. The cool air filterin’ in from outside.
