"It all started, you know, it was a hundred-some years ago… my wife wasn't my wife yet, back then, you know, excitement and all… We were in different divisions. I had just joined the 2nd division, you see."
"My name? M-my name? Now hold on…. is that really relevant to the story? I mean… Yes, thank you for understanding. Yes, yes, so, the story…"
"I told my girlfriend to meet me at midnight at the outskirts of the Sereitei, by the wall. She was late – that girl, no direction sense, probably lost –so, I fell asleep in a tree waiting. My spiritual energy was suppressed to the barest of traces. It would've even taken Yoruichi-sama a minute to find me if she were paying full attention. That's what the special ops are for, you know. Back in those days—Ah, get on with the story? Yes, yes, right."
"In Soul Society, it's the 2nd divisions job, as special ops, to keep track of little rumblings. Murmurs. Susurrations, if you will. This was one of those… whisperings, making its way through the sereitei, reaching the special ops. They said a prodigy had arrived in Soul Society, who had graduated from the Shinigami academy in only one year, a child about the age of Byakuya-sama at the time, a prodigy the likes of which Soul Society hadn't seen in years."
"Aizen, or Aizen-fukutaichou, as he was back then, he'd always had that reputation of being very thorough. It seemed a bit unusual, but not too surprising when Aizen-fukutaichou dropped by headquarters and asked that the new recruit be sent straight to him. It was unusual for a fukutaichou to take that degree of interest in a new recruit, but Aizen was always thorough. I guess he had to be, recruiting for his army—I mean, division—I mean, what?"
"So of course, recruiting let the boy go straight to the 5th with Aizen…"
.
It was one of those nights. Dead silent. Not even the crickets were chirping. There was a quarter moon in the sky, casting a soft white glow on everything it touched.
The only sound was the wind blowing in the tall grass at the outskirts of the Sereitei. Whistling. Whispering.
Aizen appeared almost out of nowhere. A combination of the darkness and the moonlight glinting off his glasses shaded his eyes from view, only showing his calm smile. The third seat of the 5th division, a jittery, twitchy sort of main, trailed after him, peeking for ghosts behind every tree.
And then there was a third. At first even I wasn't sure if he was a boy or a ghost, with his silvery hair, translucent skin, and shut, smiling eyes. His skin still had that softness of a young child's. I wondered what he was doing out of bed at that time, and then I saw that otherworldly grin; a leer almost.
Aizen made some sort of signal, a lift of his hand, a soft murmur, that the boy-ghost heard, and acknowledged with a little nod, and it was over before the third seat could even put up a fight.
One phrase, uttered in childish lisping tones,
"Ikkorose, Shinsou."
The sword extended in a flash, piercing, blood spraying everywhere, staining the boy's silvery hair.
The grin widened as the sword withdrew, shortening, blood dripping off the sharp edges.
The breeze grew icy. The whistling of the wind was almost enough to drown out the low moans of the third seat as he collapsed into a bloody heap in the tall grass, his head turned upwards, his eyes looking right up at me, beseeching as he opened his mouth, taking a wet, bloody, shuddering breath.
And Aizen spoke.
"You are even more impressive than the rumors suggest," Aizen smiled, with his calm, even tone, coolly surveying the damage, "Remind me of your name again?"
The ghost only grinned.
"Gin. Ichimaru Gin."