I lean against the outer wall of the 5th Division barracks, arms folded, eyes half-closed. The wind's a little chilly today, carrying the scent of wet leaves and old wood. Soul Society's always smelled like this. Clean, crisp, with just a hint of ancient blood soaked into the dirt beneath all this polished white stone.
I watch a couple of greenhorn Shinigami stumble past, nervously bowing when they see me.
"Vice-Captain Ichimaru!" one squeaks.
I grin wide, my usual lazy fox grin.
"Ho~? Don't strain yerselves, young'uns. Neck'll snap clean off if ya bow any lower."
They scurry off like frightened rabbits.
Always the same. People fear what they don't understand. And lemme tell ya — nobody here understands me.
Not that they could.
I ain't the Gin Ichimaru this world thinks I am. Oh no, buddy. I know everything. From Aizen's butterfly transformation to the Winter War, to how half these divisions'll get wiped out before Ichigo Kurosaki even graduates high school.
I know how this story ends.
And I plan to break it.
But for now? I play my part.
I saunter into the barracks, heading toward the 5th Division office where Aizen's likely pretending to sort through paperwork he don't care about. My fingers drum against the hilt of Shinso — or what folks think is just Shinso. Truth is, that sheath's carrying a lot more bite than anybody knows.
Yamikiri sleeps quiet. Always does till I call for it.
Two swords, one sheath. Ain't it poetic?
I push open the door without knocking.
"Yahhoo~, Aizen-taichou. Miss me?"
Aizen looks up from his desk, the picture of gentle authority. Warm smile. Kind eyes. Perfectly pressed uniform. It's a good act. Too bad I see the hollow pit behind it.
"Gin," he says, smiling like I'm his favorite little brother. "You're early."
I grin wider and sprawl into the chair across from him, legs propped on his desk.
"Had nothin' better to do. Thought I'd come see how my illustrious boss was holdin' up without me."
He chuckles softly. Most'd be charmed by it. I know better.
"How thoughtful. Actually, I was hoping you'd drop by."
He sets down his brush and steeples his fingers. The warm smile never fades, but his eyes narrow just a fraction.
He's about to drop somethin'.
"Tell me, Gin," he begins, voice all smooth as fresh lacquer. "How would you feel about taking command of the 3rd Division?"
Bingo.
I feel my grin sharpen. Careful now. Play it like Gin would.
"Well, well," I drawl, Kansai-ben thick as miso soup. "Ain't that sudden? Ya tryin' to get rid o' me, Aizen-taichou? Somethin' I said?"
He laughs, shaking his head.
"Not at all. But with Central 46 approving a new appointment cycle, and 3rd Division's captaincy open… I thought it would be wise to position someone trustworthy."
Trustworthy. Right.
I know exactly what he means. Aizen wants a pawn. A division head he can move like a shogi piece. Someone to shuffle troops, shift patrol routes, cover his tracks. Gin Ichimaru's perfect for that.
And hell — why not?
The more power I have, the easier it'll be when the time comes to gut this smug bastard where he stands.
I lean forward, resting my chin on one hand.
"Well now… Guess I ain't opposed. Can't say no to a chance ta lord over a bunch o' greenhorns, ne?"
Aizen's smile widens.
"I expected no less. You'll undergo the formal test, of course. But I have no doubt you'll pass."
I let out a slow whistle.
"A test, huh? Guess I better get ta brushin' up on my speeches. Captain Ichimaru's got a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?"
I make sure to layer my voice with that fake lazy drawl. Kansai-ben thick and playful. The perfect Gin mask. Nobody suspects the grinning fox.
Not yet.
Aizen slides a document across the desk. "Preliminary details. Don't worry — I'll ensure everything proceeds smoothly."
I take it, tucking it into my sleeve without looking.
"Much obliged, Aizen-taichou."
As I stand, my fingers graze the hilt of Shinso — and by extension, Yamikiri. I can feel the other blade's faint pulse. A steady heartbeat of void and darkness, waiting.
Not yet, old friend.
Soon.
I tip my head to Aizen.
"Well then, guess I'll be off. Gotta go menace some poor kids and practice my Captain voice."
Aizen chuckles again, that smooth, empty laugh.
"Do keep them on their toes, Gin."
I flash one last sharp grin.
"Always do, taichou."
And with that, I slip out, the door closing soft behind me.
Back in the open air, I take a deep breath. The sky's so blue it almost hurts.
"Captain Ichimaru, huh?" I murmur.
Ain't what I dreamed of when I was alive. Hell, I never even dreamed I'd be Gin Ichimaru. But if fate's dumb enough to hand me this hand, I'm gonna play it my way.
And maybe… just maybe… when the time comes, I'll change how this story ends.
For her.
I touch the sheath again, feeling both blades under my palm.
And for me.