Hitsugaya fell, as if in slow motion, as Aizen's blade cut cleanly through his torso. Crimson blood sprayed in a wide arc to splatter across the ground below in an odd crescent shape. "Ah..." Aizen breathed out softly, "It's the wrong season for snow...But it's still beautiful..." His wrist gave a short flick, the crimson stain on his zanpakuto quickly being dispelled, and sheathed the weapon in his hand. Without so much as a backward glance at his latest victims, the traitorous shinigami walked away.

As the young taicho lay in the ever expanding pool of blood beneath him his thoughts strayed to the other person in the room; Hinamori. With the faint amount of strength he had left he forced his head to turn toward his oldest friend, dying eyes began to fill with tears he couldn't hold back. He wanted to reach out, wanted to cry out, but his strength was gone; his body feeling heavy and in the way. The effects of his bankai slowly faded away and the blade clattered to the ground beside his hand, yet he still felt the ice on him. Now, however, it was colder than it had ever been before.

An overwhelming sadness began to tug at his heart and his eyes slowly shut out the cruel images before him. Why did it have to be that way? Hinamori had done no wrong, yet why had she ended this way? Would she be able to pull through this and survive? He hoped so. On the other hand, he knew it was too late for him. The ice had already reached down to his heart. Even as he heard the medical squad approaching, he knew they weren't fast enough. He didn't care so long as his companion survived.

He only wished it didn't have to be so cold.

XXX

"It seems he didn't survive after all." Aizen's cruel voice said softly to his companion, releasing the visual from the large monitor. He turned his gaze to the fox-like man, watching closely, but saw nothing more than the ever present grin spread across the man's face. "Such a shame...Ah, but it couldn't be helped could it?" The fox tilted his head slightly as he spoke, stuffing his hands in the opposite sleeves of his robes. "I s'pose I'll leave ya fo' the night then. Do a bit o' patrolin' befo' bed 'n all. G'night, Aizen-sama." He gave a dainty wave of his hand before exiting the rather large throne room and made his way to the large door leading to the room he called his own.

Once safely inside, he made sure to bar the door and switch off the camera stationed in the corner. He detested the notion of being constantly monitored.

"Shiro-chan..." he whispered to himself, grin fading to a sad expression. "Why'd ya have'ta interfere like tha'? Now ya'r dead 'n no help ta anyone..." A sigh passed his lips as he sat upon his bed, head tilting to gaze out the window. Not that there was much to look at outside. Just a seemingly endless desert with a few quartz-looking trees scattered here and there. No hollows dared come this close to Las Noches for fear of the wandering arrancar. Ichimaru didn't blame them in the slightest.

With a last sigh and a fleeting thought of what used to be, he lay down and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

XXX

Outside the walls of the castle, right outside of the window the ex-taicho had just been gazing through, an espada was on patrol. Or rather, was returning from patrol. A wicked smile of amusement was pasted on his face and a strange tune hummed through his lips, a trail of bright red blood being painted behind where he walked. He dragged an unconscious body behind him; the source of the blood trail being from a rather large gash across its chest.

"What a pretty thing you are..." the espada purred as he walked. "You'll entertain me for quite some time, won't you?"

His wicked laughter filled the night only to quickly disappear as he moved, like death itself, into the hollow castle.