One Moment
Chapter 11: Howling Ghosts, Part 1

Characters/Pairings: Lilynette, Rukia, Sode no Shirayuki, Starrk, Gin, Haineko, Tobiume, Rangiku, Hinamori, Shunsui, and Ukitake. Cameos by a bunch of creepy Hollow wolves. Shunsui/Starrk. Yes, no 'eventual' or 'almost-there'.
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~12350 for both Chapters 11 and 12
Chapter Summary: The differences between a monster and a man.
Warning: Part of this chapter is in Gin's POV. And Gin is dark in the situation I've put him in, not to mention creepy as usual. Also, violence and blood, as typical of the manga and the previous chapter.
Notes: I cut the chapter into two because it was way too long. I'm posting them both, so don't worry, I'm not leaving you with a cliffhanger. Also, title is co-opted from King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men. I got tired of thinking of my own.

Rukia had grown used to the sinking dread of disappointment after all this time.

She chanted the incantation for Hado 33: Blue Fire, Crash Down almost on automatic, and swallowed back another bout of regret-bile when she saw the wall of ice that rose up to protect Sode no Shirayuki.

"Are you surprised?" her sword asked, eyes cold. "You have always underestimated me."

No, she hadn't. Rukia had known, even before she came here, that there was no way whatsoever that she would be able to win. Despite her strength with kido, she had always depended so much on her sword.

Yet she had to try anyway, because she simply could not believe that the beautiful sword that was part of her would be so cruel as to try to kill innocents just because she could.

Her thoughts skittered to a halt when Sode no Shirayuki moved again, appearing behind her. Rukia dodged the blow, feeling the strength of the white blade against the unreleased form of the same sword in her hands. She dodged the ice, but she couldn't help but stare at Sode no Shirayuki once more.

There was a particular taste of ice that Rukia knew very well. Something half-sweet on the tongue, if only she could pin it down and chase it past the initial numbness; something pure like the cleanest waters from a mountain spring; something like that way ice danced upwards, reaching for the skies before disappearing, much like the sound of a sigh.

The only word Rukia could ever find for the taste of ice was 'white'.

And she was looking at white now: white hair, white kimono, white ribbon, white hilt, white blade pointed straight at her throat.

Her sword was beautiful and wanted her dead. Her sword was beautiful and accused Rukia of keeping her trapped when all she wanted to do was for them to grow stronger together, to make Byakuya-nii-sama proud.

"When you are pondering on your various failures," Sode no Shirayuki's silk-like voice murmured behind her, "your reiatsu wavers."

Rukia's eyes widened. She raised her sword to try to defend herself, to cut through the incoming ice if nothing else…

And she suddenly found herself being shoved to the side. Landing hard on her shoulder, Rukia gasped, clutching tightly to her sword as she stared at the spot where she had been standing. There was… there was someone within that tower of ice.

Blue light burst out, bright and hot. Rukia covered her eyes, watching through a shadowed gaze as the ice cracked and shattered outwards.

"Goddammit, but you're really fucking irritating for such a pretty face."

There was only one person with that kind of mouth on her. Rukia stared.

Lilynette had ice crystals encrusted onto her hair; the very same hair which Rukia knew was supposed to be green but was now more dark red, the red of old blood, with slight green streaks. She was covered in blood, some of which still fresh enough to freeze into bits of ice that flaked off of the strands when she turned around to look at Rukia. Her single eye, usually a light pink colour, was now red as well, as if all the blood on her had seeped through the skin and dyed it.

She walked over to Rukia and extended a hand… or what seemed like a hand. On closer look, it was more like a paw: grey-furred, with dark claws extended from where the nails should be.

Some kind of look must have crossed her face, because Lilynette's hand dropped back to her side, and she turned away.

"Getting distracted in the middle of battle is going to get you killed, Kuchiki," she said, raising her sword.

Rukia's head suddenly started working again, and she scowled. "What are you doing here? Don't you know better than to interfere with someone else's battle?!"

"It looked more like a beatdown than a battle," Lilynette drawled, looking over her shoulder. But, strangely, not meeting her eyes. "Besides, I'm a Hollow, aren't I? Your Shinigami honour code doesn't apply to me."

There was a niggling thought inside Rukia's head. In all the time Rukia had known her, which, granted, was only for a few months, Lilynette had never once referred to herself as a Hollow. In fact, she had always scowled or frowned whenever she was called one.

Taking a deep breath – and glancing at Sode no Shirayuki to make sure that her sword wasn't about to attack – she pushed herself up to stand before she reached out and grabbed Lilynette's wrist.

The fur felt oddly warm, and Lilynette's pulse beat strongly beneath her fingers.

"Listen," she said, trying to ignore the way Lilynette's gaze was fixed on their point of contact, "Sode no Shirayuki is strong." She couldn't help the hint of pride at that; trying to kill her or not, her sword was strong, and beautiful.

"You won't be able to win."

Lilynette smiled – a wide, mischievous thing. She patted Rukia gently on a shoulder.

"Don't worry, Kuchiki. I'll leave plenty for you to take care of once I'm done."

"That's…" Rukia sputtered. "That's not what I'm trying to say!"

She was going to protest more, to warn Lilynette that no matter how much she trained, no matter how much time she spent with Yachiru, she wasn't nearly powerful enough to withstand Sode no Shirayuki's ice. That one time was just a fluke…

"Second Dance: Tsukishiro!"

Rukia's eyes widened. She raised her sword, hoping to cleave down the approaching ice, but Lilynette's hand grabbed onto her shoulder and shoved her backwards.

"Cero!"

The same beam of blue light as before exploded from Lilynette's chest. It impacted with the ice, shattering it, sending cold crystals raining down around them. Lilynette turned towards her, grinning, and Rukia's eyes widened.

"LILYNETTE!"

Her warning was already too late. A wolf – a huge wolf, one of the creatures she saw last night – had leapt onto Lilynette and closed its jaw around her head. Rukia stared in mute horror as those teeth sank right into Lilynette's flesh. Blood flowed down her face, and Rukia moved by instinct, striking outwards to cut off the wolf's head. She gritted her teeth when her sword met resistance – the spinal column – before she held onto it with both hands and shoved.

The beast slumped over, nearly bisected into two from the neck. Rukia nearly dropped her sword and rushed forward, but there was a hand gripping onto her wrist – Lilynette's hand – before the girl reached up and pushed the wolf's head away from her face like it was some macabre mask.

"Man," Lilynette said, rubbing at her face, smearing blood everywhere. "His breath stinks."

"Your…" Was that small, pathetic croak really her voice? "Your mask."

She raised a shaking hand, reaching out, trailing her fingers over the small, hair-line crack in Lilynette's mask. It was just above the portion of the eyepatch, cutting through the red flame markings and going all around jaggedly, in surely the same pattern as the wolf's teeth.

No, Rukia thought, surprising herself with the sheer force of the word in her own mind. Like any Shinigami, she knew what a broken mask meant on a Hollow. Arrancar or not, Lilynette was going to die.

The girl didn't seem concerned, though. She only grinned at Rukia. It was a terrifying expression with the holes across the bridge of her nose and the blood covering half of her face.

"Are you worried?" She patted her hand. "Don't be. I'm fine."

You have a broken mask, she wanted to say. You're going to die, she wanted to protest.

Then Lilynette snatched all the protests she wanted to make with her next words.

"I never had anyone worrying about me before," she said, her smile softening at the edges. "Except for Starrk, but he doesn't count.

"Thanks. It feels nice."

Rukia blinked.

It was moments like these, when Lilynette said something unexpectedly mature, that Rukia couldn't help but wonder just how old she was.

She shook her head to dismiss the thought. This was no time to think about that.

"It's perfectly normal to worry about friends," she huffed, readying her sword. Her eyes darted from side to side, trying to catch sight of more wolves, or even where Sode no Shirayuki had disappeared to. It seemed a little odd that her zanpaktou had simply vanished…

At that very moment, as if to prove to her just how much she could jinx herself just by thinking, everything seemed to explode into motion.

Sode no Shirayuki's voice, crying out the First Dance; the rabid howling of wolves; the sound of dirt ground tearing beneath their paws… Rukia could barely react, throwing herself out of the way of the rising ice tower just in time to nearly land straight into the open jaw of a wolf.

"CERO!"

Lilynette's scream cut through the air, nearly sharp enough to shatter the ice shards that Sode no Shirayuki was sending towards Rukia. Blue light sliced through the wolf, exploding its head and splattering blood all over Rukia's body. Danger averted, she barely had time to land and strike out half-blind towards the ice, shattering it into pieces that landed on her hair and all around her.

She lifted her head just in time to see Lilynette snarl, her face bestial, as she reached up and ripped off the broken part of her mask fragment. With as much casualness as she had pushed off the wolf's head.

But Lilynette wasn't disappearing, wasn't dying; instead, the air around her thickened with even more reiatsu, and the red of her single iris darkened even further, until it seemed almost black.

Swallowing her distressed shout, Rukia turned around just in time to block Sode no Shirayuki's strike. She jumped backwards, refusing to allow her sword to push her down onto the ground. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as Lilynette practically tore through the wolves with just her bare hands – with just her claws – growling with sheer, near uncontrollable rage all the while. Rukia would wonder why she was so angry, except that she didn't have time.

"Don't take your attention off me, Kuchiki Rukia!" Sode no Shirayuki yelled, her mellifluous voice sounding so much less composed now.

Rukia matched her blow for blow, eyes widening when her gaze met her zanpaktou's. There was so much resentment there, so much hate… and she swallowed hard before she thought about what she was going to do.

There was no way around it.

She opened her mouth to tell Sode no Shirayuki her decision when her sword, her beautiful sword, was kicked in the head and fell face down into the dirt.

Lilynette was hunched over, her arms hanging by her side, claws half-curled and twitching slightly. She was covered in even more blood now, panting, and, to Rukia's senses, she had changed from the girl who was barely powerful enough to be a Lieutenant to one who could give some of the Captains a run for their money in terms of sheer raw reiatsu.

Lifting her head, she gave Rukia a shaky smile. "Are you alright?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes. She looked at Sode no Shirayuki at her feet before she grabbed Lilynette by the wrist, pulling her away from her sword. The Arrancar's eye – still only one, despite how her mask fragment had been literally halved – widened, and Rukia shook her head.

"Stay out of this," she said. "This is my battle. I have to fight it alone."

"Do you…" Lilynette hesitated. "Do you want me to leave, then?"

Badly-hidden loneliness and uncertainty practically shone out from Lilynette's expression, in her entire body language. Rukia smiled crookedly.

"No, I want you to stay here and watch," she said, turning away from the girl. "I told you, didn't I? This is my battle. I'm going to prove to you why."

Her eyes fixed upon Sode no Shirayuki. The sword had picked herself from the floor already, and was now standing in midair, staring at Rukia with narrowed eyes.

"You're beautiful," she began, her voice blending with the sound of Lilynette's footsteps. "I was so proud of you, thinking that such a beautiful sword belonged to me."

She would never be a Shinigami again after this. But Rukia knew long ago that she should solve problems just by being herself, and doing what was true to her.

She would set Sode no Shirayuki free.

How could she do otherwise when she knew exactly how it felt to be a prisoner?

Morning. The sun rose high in the skies, piercing through the window, creating slices of light on the bed where the curtains had been left open.

(If he left them closed, he was acting suspiciously, and no one walked near this house anyway.)

He sat up, turning towards the window and looking out. The sight of the burnt buildings had not changed, though the fires had already been put out. Vaguely, he knew he should have done something about those flames; something aside from watching them with glee before heading to bed with flickering shadows dancing around his bed.

But why should he, when he didn't even know what was going on?

Once, Ichimaru Gin would have been hard pressed to find enough opportunities to admit that on the fingers of one hand. Nowadays, he had more than enough for both hands and his toes beside. The only consolation he had was that his ignorance made for such a good excuse.

Slowly, a smile crawled upon his mouth, invasive and subtle like cancer. He rose from the bed and dressed, picking out a white kimono amongst the several identical white kimonos in his wardrobe. This was his uniform now; a paleness that shone in the sunlight and screamed in darkness, declaring his presence: white, like the very incarnation of death; white like Aizen, even though his name had the colour blue in it.

He walked outside into the courtyard. To his left was the Tenth Division (he wondered if Rangiku was awake; if she had even slept the night before, given all that was happening); to his right, a little closer, was the Eleventh.

They chose this small house in between the two because it was uninhabitated, but also because Zaraki Kenpachi's hatred of him was nearly non-existent – to Zaraki, he was a defanged snake, all venom drained out by actions not Zaraki's own, and hence he was of little interest. To Hitsugaya… to the tiny Tenth Division Captan…

Gin's smile grew even wider. Did tiny little Shirou-chan have nightmares about finding his Lieutenant dead one day, with Ichimaru's bare hand sticking out of her chest?

Maybe one day he would linger in Hitsugaya's office and drape over Rangiku lounging on the couch… and he would let his hand drift, just so slightly, over her breasts, her heart. Maybe he would catch horror in Hitsugaya's eyes, and he would laugh and feel alive again.

He had never once claimed to be a good man.

Sometimes he thought about finding a sword, or even a good steak knife, and driving it into his throat. The white of his clothes would show the blood beautifully.

He had never once claimed to be a good man, but he still had some scruples: he would never do that to Rangiku, not when she was the only person who was glad that he wasn't dead.

Beside him, to his left, a wall exploded.

Gin turned. His eyes opened slightly when he saw the smoke start to move, coalescing into a grey mist aimed straight at his throat. There was only one person who had a power like that—he dove for cover behind a tree, letting the wood explode into chips instead of his skull into fragments.

"Come out, you stupid bastard!" A voice cried, and Gin blinked when he couldn't recognise it. "Come out and let me kill you!"

He turned his head. Standing there, framed by smoke, were two women… or, at least, they looked like women. One of them was short and petite, looking more like a young girl, with long hair and a scarf that floated over her shoulders and ended in two large bells with flames licking around the golden metal. The other… the other was looked like the centrefold of some fetish magazine, full curves covered in pink fur and large cat ears popping up from beneath her hair.

Gin cocked his head to the side. He was sure that was Rangiku's Haineko, but he had never met these two before.

"Who are you?"

Instead of answer, the girl swung her arms. Gin immediately threw himself backwards, narrowing his eyes even further when he saw the flames that roared above his head. The fire was almost hot enough to set his hair on fire, but he had bigger problems than that.

The spiritual pressure around him was growing, rising, and, given his current state, it wouldn't take very long before it sent him to his knees.

Not that he was willing to show the two women that. Gin stood up, folding his hands into his sleeves before he looked at the two of them.

"Hinamori-chan's Tobiume, and Rangiku's Haineko," he greeted, inclining his head. "Aah, it's such a pleasure to meet you two for the first time."

If Gin was anyone else, he would have balked at the thought of two manifested zanpaktous running around separated from their owners, especially since he knew for a fact that Rangiku still couldn't bring her zanpaktou out from the inside of her head.

But Gin wasn't anyone else, and long years spent by Aizen's side had taught him to always distrust the idea of the impossble. Whatever conclusion his logic led him to had to be true, no matter how unbelievable it seemed.

The two women looked at him, eyes narrowed. The girl with the bells had to be Tobiume, while the cat-woman was surely Haineko… Then Haineko grinned.

"Good, you figured who we are. Then you can tell the old lady who killed you."

Grey mist grew around her, and Haineko swung the hilt in her hands. It dove right towards Gin, but Gin was used to the speed of that particular technique after watching Rangiku train. He waited until it was closing around him before he ducked and ran towards the other side of the clearing.

But Tobiume was waiting. She lifted her bells, making to swing, but Gin was faster even without his powers.

Reaching out, he stroked Tobiume's cheek gently.

"Does Hinamori-chan know that you're running around trying to kill people?" he asked, breathing out against her skin. "She'll be so very angry at you, you know."

Perhaps it might seem suicidally stupid for him to try to provoke someone – or something – who was trying to kill him. But, honestly, Gin couldn't help himself. Besides, Tobiume and Haineko weren't trying very hard, and they might just be missing some incentive.

The sword in the shape of a girl thinned her lips. Bells chimed as she gripped his wrist.

Before she could speak, or even move, a sound ripped through the air: howling. Gin's eyes opened fully when something slammed hard into Tobiume, throwing her off of her feet and bringing Gin down to the ground along with her.

A wolf. A huge wolf, almost as long as Gin was tall, with grey fur and red eyes and a very familiar shade of blue reiatsu running down its fur. A mask of bone wrapped around its head, marked with something that looked almost like stylised red flames. It snarled at Tobiume, baring fangs that had even more blue zigzagging across the sharp white things like drool.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Gin watched as Haineko was surrounded by even more of them. She went down with a cry, trying to swing the hilt of the sword. The grey mist around her cut against the wolves' fur, making blood rise to the surface, but the beasts didn't even seem to notice.

Somehow, Gin was absolutely certain that this wasn't a rescue.

WEAK ONE. MINE!

Definitely not a rescue.

He struggled against Tobiume's grip on his wrist, trying to pull it back to fight in some way even though his vision was starting to edge with black from all the wild reiatsu being pumped into the air by the wolves. Tobiume was shouting, pulling at her pinned arms…

A sword crashed, blade-first, into the dirt right beside Gin's head.

Gin didn't question its origin. It was the first time in months when he had a weapon so near his reach, and he grabbed it with his free hand. Swinging his entire body, he slammed the blade right in between the wolf's eyes. Blood splashed on his face, crawling down his neck, and the thing howled – a single voice that seemed to resound with a thousand's – before it exploded into blue light.

Tobiume's grip on his wrist had loosened. From shock, most likely, and Gin allowed his usual smile to take over his face.

"It's not polite to try to eat someone before you even know their name, you know."

The blue light was going towards the sword, and the thing warmed in his hand. Gin looked at it for a moment before a scream caught his attention.

Haineko was buried underneath a pile of wolves that was slowly growing lesser in number because of one thing that was tearing through them. Gin watched, utterly fascinated, as Starrk – because it couldn't be anyone other than Starrk, what with the wolves and the blue reiatsu – grabbed the head of one wolf and shattered its mask with his bare hand.

He whistled, long and loud, when Starrk grabbed another beast before he pulled it back and tore out its throat with his teeth.

For a brief moment, he regretted that Aizen wasn't here to see this. Aizen had tried so long and hard to instill some kind of killing instinct in Starrk, and here Starrk was, months after their separation, behaving like the kind of beast that Aizen had believed every single Hollow to be.

Another wolf went down when Starrk drove his hand through its chest. Another one died when an elbow smashed against its head, breaking the mask and the skull beneath it. The very last one had jumped away from Haineko, snarling at Starrk before it leapt towards him, towards its very death as Starrk struck out with one hand and tore out its throat.

Finally, the backyard was emptied of wolves, leaving behind only blood and bits of bone. Not even corpses: when the wolves died – were killed with horrible efficiency – they turned into pure reiatsu that returned to the sword in Gin's hand. Which meant that… he looked at it, head cocked to the side.

Hah. He hadn't even realised that Starrk had a zanpaktou that wasn't Lilynette.

"Can I have my sword back please?"

Gin lifted his head. The sight that met him sent a cold chill down his spine.

It was not the fact that Starrk was covered in blood; not the grey-furred claws that had replaced human-like hands and nails; not even the fangs that peeked out from that mouth that was stained with red; not even the sheer power that radiate from him, slowly strangling the air in Gin's throat.

It was Starrk's eyes: Gin was used to seeing them half-lidded and lazy, but now they were wide open, and filled with a barely-restrained bestial hunger barely hidden beneath a haunting emptiness that spoke of depths of despair.

There's nothing you can say to make me hate you, Starrk had once said, and Gin, recklessly, wanted to test those words.

So he did.

"You don't need it," he said. "You look real pretty with those claws and fangs, Starrk-chan. So why don't you lend me your sword for a while?"

His grin widened even further. "These two are trying to kill me, you know," he said, nodding towards the two women who were now climbing to their feet. "You wouldn't like to leave me helpless here, would you?"

Starrk was staring at him, unblinking. Gin went for the final stroke.

"Aizen-taichou would be so disappointed in you if you let me be killed."

Red. Red was starting to creep into Starrk's eyes, overwhelming the blue. Gin lifted the sword, bringing it into Starrk's view of vision before he started to deliberately stroke along the hilt.

Then, as suddenly as it begun, the red was gone. Starrk cocked his head, still staring at him, before he nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"What?"

"If you need it, you can have it," Starrk shrugged. "You're right; I don't really need it."

There was nothing but emptiness in that grey-blue gaze. The hunger was gone. Gin sighed – no fun at all, this man – before he threw the sword over to the Arrancar.

"Take it," he said, waving a hand. He tried not to stumble as he turned around. "I don't need a thing like that to deal with these two."

"Why you!" Haineko cried, clearly incensed. "Growl, Haineko!"

Briefly, Gin wondered just why Haineko would need to call her own name in order to activate the sword – weren't they the same? – before he took a step back. Before he could even dodge, however, Starrk was in front of him, using that irritating, teleportation-like sonido.

"Cero."

The blue light crashed into the incoming grey mist, dispersing them. Gin blinked.

Before he could even say a word, flames came from behind him. Raising an arm, Gin covered his face. He didn't even bother to dodge, because…

Starrk sent another Cero searing through the air, meeting the flames head on. The blazing blue light swallowed the fire, and the sheer, raw power that surrounded him was like a punch straight into the lungs. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay standing as he looked up and gave Starrk a smile.

"Weren't you going to leave?"

Starrk turned towards him, empty eyes lingering on his face.

"You said you wanted my sword to fend them off," he said, voice echoing hollowly. "Since you gave me back my sword, I might as well stay here a little while."

"Most people would take that to be the clue to leave, you know," Gin pointed out.

"They want to kill you," Starrk replied. "And I don't like seeing people die."

"You had no problems killing those wolves. They can speak, you know. Aren't they people?"

Before Starrk could reply, Haineko's grey mist shot once more towards them. Behind them, Tobiume's flames rushed forward.

Gin didn't even bother to move. Either Starrk would defend him, or…

"Hado 33: Red Flame Cannon!"

His smile widened. He had been waiting for this, really.

The burst of red kido slammed straight into the oncoming flames.

"Bakudo 9: Disintegration Circle!"

Glowing yellow ropes appeared, one wrapping around Haineko, the other shooting past Gin and Starrk to twine around Tobiume. He watched, a little amused, as the figure behind the smoke pulled, dragging the two manifested zanpaktous into the air before they smashed into each other and dropped onto the ground.

When the smoke cleared, the first thing he heard was a scream.

Hinamori-chan was standing there, a little distance away. She was staring right at Starrk, her hands, tangled in the brilliant threads of her kido, were covering her mouth. Honestly, Gin couldn't blame her for that reaction… but he could blame her for the way her concentration wavered in that one moment.

Haineko and Tobiume burst out of the kido ropes. They turned to each other, staring to shout, but Gin had someone far more interesting to occupy his attentions.

Rangiku stood beside him, standing on the stump of what used to be a tree. Her eyes were fixed upon Starrk as well, lips parted and horror in her eyes.

Gin waved. "Hello, Rangiku."

And that was the last of his strength. With all five of them in the same area as he was, their unrestrained reiatsu – in preparation for battle – whipped through the air and into his body, strangling all of the air out of his lungs. Gin fell onto his knees, clawing at his throat, trying to breathe.

A familiar arm wrapped around him.

"What the hell did you do to him, Arrancar?" Ah, that was Rangiku's fierce voice.

The pressure in the air lessened greatly, enough for him to breathe. He lifted his head, accidentally meeting Starrk's eyes. And in that moment, he wanted to laugh: the hurt and despair and self-hatred he had so wanted to see, had taunted the Arrancar to see, were right there.

And all Gin had to do was to fall to his knees.

How terribly unfair it was that Starrk couldn't hate him. It was so easy for Gin to despise the man. He wanted to glare at him, but he had shown enough weakness already, so he turned to Rangiku instead.

"You're so cute when you're worried about me, Rangiku," he teased, prodding a cheek with a finger.

"It was the reiatsu in the air," Starrk said tonelessly. "It's too much for him. It should be better now."

Gin leaned on Rangiku as he got to his feet. He didn't actually need the help, but Rangiku always liked it when he relied on her, so why not?

Rangiku opened his mouth as if to speak, but she had to make for a grab for her sword when Haineko leaped at her, blade unsheathed. Gin stumbled sideways, and he would have fallen to the ground if not for Starrk's steadying grip on his shoulders.

"They're going to fight, so I don't think you should stay here," the Arrancar said once Gin was looking at him. "I'll bring you to the Fourth Division. They should have kido wards there to keep out reiatsu."

"Gin!" Rangiku had definitely heard. "If you wait for a little while, I can bring you there!"

There it was again, that flash of hurt in Starrk's eyes before it faded back into emptiness.

"I'm not going to hurt him," he told her.

Gin laughed. Straightening, he waved a hand. "I'll just get in your way if I stay, Rangiku," he said, and it took some effort to keep the bitterness from creeping into his tone.

Her eyes flickered towards Starrk for a moment before she jumped backwards.

Haineko hissed. "Keep your attention on me, old lady!" she yelled, but Rangiku didn't even seem to hear.

"Do you trust him, Gin?"

"He's a puppy," he shrugged. "Though, he's usually not as pretty as this."

Starrk blinked. His gaze flickered down, following Gin's waving hand before they saw the claws that had replaced his hands. Gin heard the tiny hitch in his breath; felt the shiver that went through his entire frame.

Rangiku hesitated for a moment more before she had to raise her sword to defend herself from Haineko's next strike. In that moment, Gin pretended to swoon.

It wasn't that he wanted to go to the Fourth, much less to leave Rangiku here. But he knew that he was useless in a fight, and he really didn't want Rangiku to get hurt protecting him. Besides, he knew that Rangiku would cry if he ended up injured, and he hated that most of all.

"Alright," she said, forcing the word out from the reluctance written in her gritted teeth. "I'll come and visit you later, Gin?"

"I'll be waiting," he smiled, because it was true. He hadn't really been doing much in the past few months except waiting for her.

Starrk turned away from him, presenting his back. Gin blinked, and he laughed a little to himself before he swung his arms around Starrk's neck and hooked his legs around that lean waist.

"Aren't you going to carry me like a bride?" he drawled.

"I'd hurt you with my claws," Starrk said. Gin squeezed his eyes shut as the Arrancar leaped for the rooftop and started to run in the direction of the Fourth.

Silence settled over them, thick and suffocating like a heavy blanket in midsummer. Gin entertained himself by considering the various things he could say to widen the cracks in Starrk's being.

"The Shinigami might trust you more if you stop referring to Aizen as a Captain," Starrk said quietly once they had left the Tenth Division behind.

"You really think so?" Gin asked, letting his voice lilt even more than usual at the question.

"Isn't it worth a try?" Starrk paused.

"Mm… But why would I change my habits just to make sure people trust me?"

There was a pause before Starrk shrugged. "You might be less bored that way."

"Oh?"

"If they trust you more, they might give you something more to do."

Gin chuckled, raising one hand to pat Starrk's head gently. "I'm not like you, Starrk-chan," he said, leaning forward until his words caressed the edge of one ear. He wondered if Starrk could even feel it, given the way the ear was now pointed and covered with fur.

"I don't go around begging for scraps of affection and acceptance."

There was just the briefest of pauses. Gin wished he could see Starrk's face; wished he could see the flash of hurt that was surely there.

"I guess not," Starrk said eventually, his tone as flat as it had been during the entire conversation.

How unsatisfactory.

They ran along the rooftops for long moments more, passing through the Ninth and Eighth Divisions. Then the sound of howling ripped through the air, and Starrk's body beneath his tensed even further. His reiatsu burst outwards, almost strong enough to make Gin dizzy, before it was restrained again.

The Arrancar started running faster.

"You can use sonido, you know," Gin pointed out. "It'll save us so much more time."

Starrk shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

Gin couldn't help it; his shoulders shook as he laughed, the sound cackle-sharp.

"So sweet," he drawled, patting Starrk's hair. He didn't miss the way that Starrk's entire body tensed at the word, even though he kept running.

"But I don't want to keep you from your crusade to become a hero, Starrk-chan."

"I—" Starrk began, and he was so very, very predictable. Gin already knew the words he was swallowing back: I'm not trying to become a hero.

"Alright. If you don't mind."

Closing his eyes, Gin focused on his own breathing – in, out – as Starrk moved into sonido.

Despite his mockery, despite the fact that he only said it to see if Starrk still remembered the terms that Aizen had used for him, Gin honestly did think that Starrk was sweet. If he was a slightly better man, if he believed instead of only understood the kind of codes that the world was run by, he would think that it was terrible, that whatever new situation this was had caused Starrk to turn monstrous on the outside even though he was far less of a monster than Gin himself was.

But he wasn't.

"We're here."

Instead, he simply wished to be there to witness the way Starrk would shatter completely when he realised that people would simply take his current appearance on face value and cut away any and all fragile bonds he had managed to build within the past months. He wondered what kind of face Starrk would make when he was destroyed completely by the very people whose friendship he wished so desperately to have.

Maybe he should take that advice.

It might just be the final nail in the coffin for Starrk's mind if he knew that Gin listened to him just to watch his downfall.

Shunsui looked over the reports from the members of his Division with a slight frown.

It wasn't a well-known fact that, as the Captain of the Eighth, Shunsui was unofficially the Captain-Commander's spymaster. His Division's duties were primarily to figure out the possibilities of threats before they even occurred, and their secondary duties make sure that no crimes or lawbreaking occurred in Seireitei. This was partly why he preferred to have women – they were usually far more talented at subterfuge, and people usually talked to and around them more.

The reports he was now reading were all less than a week old. Hitsugaya came out of Jinzen frowning and with a strange look on his face. Rangiku-chan was reported by one of his Shunsui's Division members to be yelling at her zanpaktou for being uncooperative. Isane-chan was overheard telling Retsu-senpai that Itegumo had been unresponsive lately. And Shunsui remembered the wound on Kuchiki's hand during his practice bout with Abarai, the very morning before the attack occurred.

Setting the papers down, he tipped his hat back, staring out of the window as he frowned. Even gathered together, the reports didn't seem to warrant any sort of alarm. It wasn't uncommon for zapaktou to be in fits of pique when it came to their owners. For someone to be able to sink their claws so deep into them that it reached their inner worlds without showing any outward sign… it was disturbing.

Muramasa. The name rang a slight bell in his mind, a memory from long ago… Given the look of the man in comparison to the other manifested zanpaktous, Shunsui suspected that he was a zanpaktou. He had to be.

"Nanao-chan!"

His Lieutenant came to the door, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Shunsui was tempted to tease her for it, but the situation right now was far too serious.

"Will you look at the record books for me, my lovely Nanao-chan?" Alright, he couldn't resist that. Neither could he resist the slightly lecherous smile. "Look through the records of the seated officers, Lieutenants, and Captains of the past hundred years for a man whose sword is named Muramasa."

Nanao-chan looked at him for hesitantly before she nodded. "I will, Captain."

Ah, he was scaring her by being far too serious. Shunsui chuckled to himself, sliding out from behind the desk. He walked towards her and leaned in close, letting his grin widen.

"You're looking particularly breath-taking today, my lovely Nanao-chan~" he sing-songed. "Did you pretty yourself up just to ease the old, burdened heart of your dear Captain? –Ow!"

She smacked him on the head with clipboard, whirling away with a huff. But the tension lines around her eyes were gone, and Shunsui smiled to himself even as he rubbed the side of his head.

His Nanao-chan was absolutely brilliant, but she still couldn't get used to all the different facets of him even though she had known him since she was a child; perhaps because she had known him since then. Lisa-chan had been so much better at handling his different demeanours, knowing just how to deal with him with different masks of her own. But Nanao-chan was far too serious, far too honest, and if Shunsui wasn't such a selfish man, he would have requested that she transferred to a Division she was far more suited for long ago.

Never mind that.

He raised his eyes to the doorway. "Any news, Ukitake?"

His friend peeled himself from the doorframe, definitely amused as he folded his hands into his sleeves. "You know that Kuchiki opened a senkaimon last night," he said.

Shunsui nodded, waiting. Ukitake wouldn't make a trip here just to tell him something he already knew.

"She came back and, according to Lilynette-chan, she fought with her zanpaktou. They are both with Retsu-senpai at the Fourth right now. And…" he hesitated. "There's more, but I told them to wait until you're there before they tell us everything that happened."

Eyes narrowing, Shunsui cocked his head.

"So they met Muramasa, then."

"Yes," Ukitake nodded.

"Well then," Shunsui smiled. "Let's not keep them waiting."