A/N: Here's a one-shot that I did a little over a month ago in collaboration with a piece of fanart that I submitted for the Livejournal community sanbantaifuku's Izuru Birthday Competition. If you're curious what it looks like, you can send me a message or review and I'll give you the link (or you can search through my DeviantArt - same username XD). Without further ado, hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters (as much as I'd like to). All Bleach characters belong to Tite Kubo.

Izuru lazily rolled over in his bed, turning away from the bleak paint of the walls and towards the faint sunlight that was streaming in through the window.

'Morning already?'

He shut his eyes and pulled the covers over his head. Finding no use in this attempt to fall back asleep, Izuru threw his blankets off of him and sat up in his bed, cradling his head in his palms. How long had it been? A week? A month? How long had it been since that betrayal? How long had it been since everything he had believed in was shattered?

Gin Ichimaru.

The name made him cringe with pain. He had given everything to his captain. He had trusted him and revered him. He had lifted a sword against his friend in order to protect him. And how had he been repaid?

Betrayal.

Sighing heavily, the blonde shinigami rose from his bed and slid the door of his room open, allowing the light of the rising sun to flow in. The early morning meant that many of the shinigami were still fast asleep, which offered a rare sense of peace and quiet on the Third Division grounds. The cloudless sky was beginning to assume its soft blue color, and anyone would agree that it would be a beautiful day.

But Izuru knew it was going to be a bad day.

No. Izuru had decided that it was going to be a bad day. Like any other day since that fateful moment when he saw his captain ascend into the sky towards Hueco Mundo.

It didn't matter that it was his birthday. In Soul Society, birthdays weren't a big deal anyhow. Age didn't matter. It was your skill level that counted.

Still, he felt empty without the usual birthday wish from the grinning silver-haired captain. He had made a habit of looking forward to it, despite the fact that no matter how much he protested, Gin would insist on bringing packs of dried persimmons as his birthday gift. It didn't matter too much since Gin would end up eating most of them anyway. Izuru just enjoyed the leisure time he spent with his captain. His carefree personality put Izuru at ease, and he always knew what to say to make Izuru smile.

With a slam, the blonde shinigami slid his door shut and collapsed back onto his bed. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help constantly thinking about his captain. Everyone said his name with such disdain, and part of Izuru did detest him as well, but he wouldn't deny the fact that he still cared about Gin Ichimaru. He shook his head vigorously and gently smacked his forehead with a fisted hand, trying to shake all of the memories away.

He heard a sudden thump, and for a moment, he thought that he had done something to injure himself. When he looked towards the door, he saw someone's shadow dash by. Worried that it might be an intruder, Izuru immediately flung himself off of the bed and rushed to open the door. Whoever it was had been quick. He looked up and down the hallway, but there was no one to be seen. The blonde shinigami took a step outside and found his foot coming into contact with something other than the hardwood floor. He peered down and saw what looked like a lieutenant's armband. Curiously, he crouched down and picked the object up. It had definitely not been there when he had opened the door earlier. Turning it over so he could see the insignia, he saw the character and lotus of the Ninth Division.

"Shuuhei…?"

Izuru looked up and down the hall again for a sign of anyone who might know why the Ninth Division Lieutenant's armband was lying in front of his room. There was still no one to be found. Concerned that something might have happened to his friend, Izuru hastily tucked the armband into his shihakushou and made a dash to the Ninth Division to find Shuuhei.

Coming to a halt in front of Shuuhei's room in the Ninth Division quarters, Izuru began knocking repeatedly. "Shuuhei? Shuuhei, are you there?" After a few seconds of no one answer, Izuru couldn't hide his panic any longer. He knocked and called louder. "Hey, Shuuhei!"

As the blonde shinigami drew his fist back for another pound on the door something caught his wrist to prevent him from doing so. His eyes narrowed as he sharply turned around, knowing for certain that it must be an enemy. "What are you--"

"The question is what are YOU doing?"

Izuru found himself staring straight into the hard eyes of Shuuhei Hisagi. "Sh-Shuuhei… I—You--"

The black-haired shinigami had the faintest of smiles on his lips. "Do you want to tell me why you're making such a ruckus this early in the morning?"

Izuru opened his mouth to say something before Shuuhei held up his hand to stop him. "Hold that thought." Sliding open the door to his room, he beckoned the blonde shinigami in.

Izuru slowly stepped into the room and looked around. It was the same as any other shinigami's room. It was simply furnished with a bed, a dresser, a small table, and two chairs.

"Well don't stand there like a block," Shuuhei called to him. He had already taken a seat in one of the chairs that sat beside the wooden table. Izuru couldn't quite explain it, but he felt a little nervous being in his room. Nevertheless, he grabbed the remaining chair and pulled it towards the table so that he sat across the older shinigami.

Without any more hesitation, Izuru reached into his shihakushou and pulled out Shuuhei's armband. "I found this outside my room this morning." He slowly slid it towards the black-haired shinigami. "I… I thought something might have happened…" As he said these words, Izuru surprisingly felt his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

To Izuru's confusion, Shuuhei broke into a grin. "My, you're definitely quick."

"E-Excuse me?"

Shuuhei picked up his armband and retied it onto his left arm. Izuru simply stared with his mouth slightly open at the older shinigami's nonchalant attitude. He regained his voice after a few moments. "You… put that there?"

Shuuhei simply nodded. He was amused by the confused expression on the blonde shinigami's face. Eventually, Izuru's confusion turned to irritation, and Shuuhei couldn't hold back any more.

"You didn't think I wouldn't remember, did you?" The black-haired shinigami still had a playful grin on his face.

"Remember what?" Izuru asked innocently.

"Today is your birthday, Izuru."

Izuru felt his cheeks burn even hotter.

"So, like anyone with a birthday, it's only fair that you get a present," Shuuhei said matter-of-factly.

"Giving me a heart attack is your idea of a present?"

Shuuhei chuckled. "It made you forget, didn't it?"

Izuru blinked in response. "Forget…?"

The smile faded from Shuuhei's expression as he caught the blue eyes of the blonde shinigami sitting across from him. "Our captains… I know it's been difficult, Izuru."

Izuru felt his throat tighten. Shuuhei was right. He had really forgotten about his captain for a while in his panic, but now he remembered again, and the pain came flooding back. Shuuhei noticed the falling expression on Izuru's face and reached out and took his hand.

"You don't have to go through this alone."

The warmth of his hand spread through Izuru and seemed to revive him. The blue eyes of Izuru rose and met Shuuhei's once again. "Shuuhei…" The usual cold expression on the black-haired shinigami's face wasn't there. Despite all of his intimidating scars and tattoos, Shuuhei's expression was soft and understanding. It always was whenever he talked to Izuru.

Standing up, Shuuhei rounded the table, grabbed both of Izuru's hands, and gently pulled him to his feet as he brushed his lips across his. "I'll always be here, Izuru." Shuuhei leaned in for another kiss and deepened it when he felt the younger shinigami return the affection. When they broke apart, the two shinigami couldn't help but smile.

Yes, it was a beautiful day, and this was far better than any dried persimmons could ever be.