Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. Nor do I own the alphabet.
Warnings: Yaoi, language, violence. You know, the usual. Especially when dealing with Ichimaru and Aizen. Possible spoilers for the arrancar arc.
Pairing(s): AizenGin
Notes: This story was inspired by the letter A. -laughs- No seriously, it's the first fic in my Alphabet Series. Yes, I know every author's done this before, but my stories won't be simple drabbles. They'll be one-shots, but their length will be much greater than that of a normal drabble. They will be chaptered under this title so I don't end up with 26 different stories, on top of my already growing fic count. Each fic will be based around a single word that begins with the fic's corresponding letter. They will all be separate from each other and will not coincide with any of my past fics or future 'Alphabet Series' installations.
A is for: "Allegiance"
--------------------------------------
If nothing else, Ichimaru Gin was brave.
He had survived poverty on the streets of Rukongai and discrimination due to his pale skin and garnet eyes. He had worked hard to make it into the shinigami academy and again, dealt with ignorant students and fellow teammates who admonished him for his odd behaviour and Kansai accent. Only Matsumoto Rangiku made him happy, at least to the point where he could smile of his own volition and not act like he was masking his feelings.
Year after year he tolerated the others' rude comments and eventually became something; an animal on the bottom of the totem pole, a rung at the bottom of the ladder. Nevertheless, he was a formal shinigami by that time, dressed in Seireitei's finest uniform cloth with his adjutant badge proudly displayed around his left bicep. He smiled warmly at his captain as he stepped into the man's neat office and as he reflected on his past, in the depths of Las Noches, he remembered the smile all too well.
It had been the last genuine smile he had ever given. He could not honestly remember a time after that, when he had smiled from the heart. When he had actually meant it. Giving a short sniffle into his overly long white sleeves, the shinigami-turned-renegade got to his feet and brushed the dust off of his clothes. Dust everywhere. In his tabi, his bedsheets, his hair. He loathed the desert that surrounded the great palace and wished for a cool, quiet oasis he could soak himself in, someplace free of sand and dust and hollows masquerading as people.
"You look upset about something, Ginyanote." Came a smooth voice from the doorway, another thing the silver haired former captain hated. The palace had no doors on the main rooms, only shoji screens on the private quarters. "Melancholy even. Care to explain yourself?"
The young shinigami lifted his face to meet the gaze of his former taichou, Aizen's hands buried deep in his sleeves as he was so oft to do while walking the halls of his beloved home. Ichimaru saw nothing but contempt in the man's chocolate gaze and he wisely kept his comments to himself, happy to be by Aizen's side but angry to have left everything he held dear behind in Soul Society.
"I'm just kinda lonely, Sousuke." He conceded. "I need somethin' else to do, 'sides sittin' around waitin' for your war to start."
His words were acidic even though he hadn't meant them to be and the stronger shinigami scowled at him, stepping close enough to grip the slimmer man by the chin, forcing him to open his eyes properly and stare incredulously.
"S..Sousuke?"
"Respect and obedience, Gin. That's all I ask of you. Not even Kaname gets that much."
Ichimaru snorted softly, wriggling his head from his lover's grasp and rubbing at his chin, certain that it would bruise come morning.
"Naa, Kana-chan's not worth as much as I am. I've got more social standin' than he does."
Aizen moved forward again and this time silenced his beloved companion with a deep kiss, listening to each tiny whimper the smaller man gave. He used to feed on Ichimaru's sounds, gorge himself on the tiny cries he uttered during their sessions. Now, he caused them only to prove to himself that he wasn't above enjoying them on occasion.
"You're very precious to me, Ginyanote. Let nothing endanger that."
----------------------------
A tuft of turquoise hair caught Ichimaru's attention as he was walking through the halls of Aizen's spacious palace, taking a moment to peer into the private room as he heard its owner grunt with obvious exertion. The slim shinigami grinned broadly and boldly shoved the shoji screen aside, stepping in as if he were the sole occupant of the rather large living area.
The telltale sensation of more than one reiatsu struck the young captain and he smirked in the second person's direction, earning himself a scowl.
"I believe Aizen-sama ordered you to knock first, before entering a private room, Ichimaru-sama." Ulquiorra announced.
Gin's smile faded somewhat, soured by the small Espada's arrogant attitude. "Sousuke also said that ya can't act so high on the totem pole, Ulquiorra-kun. Ya remember what happened to Grimmjow, ne?"
The dark haired arrancar, sufficiently silenced, turned away from the confronting shinigami and got to his feet, stepping away from his comrade and leaving him to fend for himself, his duties finished for the time being. He secretly loathed the light haired former captain and was all too eager to get out of his way.
"Forgive me, Ichimaru-sama." he spoke quietly, before bowing curtly and leaving the room, slamming the screen behind him.
Gin stared down at the fallen Espada with a smile of contempt, eying his missing limb and purposely nudging the bandaged shoulder with his foot, tolerating the man's squeal of pain long enough to actually enjoy the sound. Sharp aqua eyes glared through tears borne of pain and despite his obvious handicap, Grimmjow shifted to a sitting position. Hours before, Ulquiorra had been given a task by the arrancar lord, ordered to keep an eye on the taller man and watch for self mutilating behaviour or depression of any kind. Though the young Espada doubted that his companion would hurt himself intentionally, he did not doubt the existence of depression, even amongst such senseless and boorish creatures.
"You fox-faced bastard..." He growled. "Aizen never gave ya permission to do this kinda shit, ya know."
Shinsou's master only tilted his head off to one side and grinned with frightening contempt, his reiatsu almost a noticeable presence in the sparse but extremely neat quarters.
"Yaa, Sousuke's not as bad as ya let on. He's nice enough to keep ya alive after all ya did, ne?"
That shut the larger man up. He scowled darkly and attempted getting to his feet, finding it much harder than he had previously thought, only barely managing after Ichimaru had backed up a bit. He stood tall, scratching at the middle of his chest with his good hand, the bandages crossing his upper half like gaudy white scars. His zanpakutou sat unused on the coffee table and angrily, he noticed that Gin stood between it and himself.
"Ya can't touch me, ya useless fuck. I don't care what Aizen's got to say in your defense. You're worthless to me."
Gin was upon him before he knew what to do, merely standing before him but viciously gripping the bloodied stump of Grimmjow's former left arm, digging his fingernails into the ruined flesh through the light gauze, drinking in the pained cry the younger man gave and the shivers of absolute anger that recoiled through his muscled form. The silver haired taichou leaned in too close for the other's tastes and licked his ear, tightening his hold for a brief second before letting go and pulling away to turn his back, aware of how disgusted the arrancar was with him.
"The only reason you're livin' at all is because Sousuke loves confrontation."
"The fuck ya talkin' 'bout?"
"Are ya loyal to him, Grimmjow?" Gin asked innocently. "Would ya willingly die for him?"
The gruff arrancar snorted out loud and flipped the captain off, turning on his heel and heading towards the outer corridor, leaving the screen open as he exited and began padding down the hardwood hall.
"Yeah, 'course I'm fuckin' loyal to him. He's our lord, ain't he?" His voice carried back into the room. "How 'bout yourself?"
Gin's smile disappeared completely as he left the room as well, just catching the tail end of the sixth Espada as he rounded the far corner and disappeared for the time being. Was he truly loyal to Aizen? Ichimaru's mind doubted that he was. Then again, the young shinigami doubted his own loyalty, especially after seeing the brave but arrogant creature nearly killed for a weak infraction.
Was his allegiance so strong that he could consider himself loyal? At times, he doubted his own loyalty, though his love for the brilliant brunet overshadowed almost any doubts he may have had. If nothing else, as he was told once by his beloved, he was brave. He could stick it out in Aizen's kingdom. Sure he could.