Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
She found him in the archives. His reiatsu lay thick around the place, and as she inched inside, it weighed heavier and heavier on her until her legs wobbled. His back was turned, but she recognized him immediately. The traitor, but not her traitor. Grinning Gin, instead of soft, gentle Aizen.
His power shoved her to his knees and he sneered down at her. She didn't blame him. Back against the wall, pale and sweaty, dark hair unkempt and bags under her brown eyes from working feverishly all night, every night, because she couldn't be a burden to Shiro-chan, not after all he'd done for her. If it had been her in Gin's place, she probably would have looked just as disgusted.
He crouched down, every movement slow and deliberate. A pale hand reached out for her, and she flinched away, but his fingers caught her chin. She could feel tears welling in her eyes, and forced them back. She couldn't show weakness. Not here. Later, maybe - crying on Izuru's shoulder, or arguing with Matsumoto-sempai again. But not here.
Gin's eyes, slitted as they were, reminded her of a snake - a massive, all powerful constrictor, winding its leisurely way around her and squeezing her in, leaving no escape. She trembled, but her eyes steadied, locking onto his as she pushed her fear away. He gave her his trademark grin, and murmured, "Ya know, this war's already won, little girl. Ain't no way we'll lose. Seireitei's nothin' more than a bug in our path, now." He stood, smoothed his clothing, and without any warning or preamble released a sharp burst of reiatsu. She cried out, whimpering as she was forced down further. Gin tucked a thick book under his arm and just walked away, humming contentedly to himself.
Her vision was blurred, but slowly righting itself. She pushed up to her knees, but that was as far as she could get at the moment. Her hands spasmed, and she gasped in pain as the world spun when she lifted her head. She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced at where he'd left. He was terrifying.
Her jaw set and her eyes leveled. She straightened her spine, and clenched her hands into thin fists, rage boiling under her skin. God, how she hated that man. She hated how he could just scare her like that, without even doing anything. She decided then. He wasn't going to win. She'd make sure of it. She boosted herself to her feet, squared her shoulders and shunpo'd back to Fifth Company. Barking orders at to her subordinates, preparing them for war, Momo Hinamori had only one thing in mind.
You think this war is over? It hasn't even begun.