I've been devouring tons of fanfics since Corona broke, and I figure a lot of other people are as well, so I'm doing my part to contribute to giving everyone more to read by posting again.

Now, everybody I'm following needs to post an update too

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The next time Gin opened his eyes he met the smiling face of the ex-captain of the 12th division, Urahara Kisuke. "A-re, a-re!" The hat toting shopkeeper exclaimed. "Here is a surprise! Didn't think you'd pull through myself. Had to give it a try for Matsumoto-san of course! Poor thing is all in pieces over you.

"We had a bit of a talk with Kurosaki-san's friends about what happened. I know what they say about keeping your enemies closer, but you might have given someone a head's up. Don't think it will be a simple task convincing the Gotei 13 you were only playing an evil sadist; you were terribly good at it. Don't have the slightest idea how Aizen saw through it. Ah, well, you had me fooled."

Gin stared at Urahara for a long moment before he could force a single question through his uncooperative lips. "Aizen lost?"

"Oh, yes, well you see he did give me a hundred years to set everything up, didn't he? And that obsession with Kurosaki-san, I really don't know how he missed what a risk that was, but then again, maybe that was the whole idea. Maybe Kurosaki-san's right, and all he really wanted was to challenge an equal. That's a sad thought, isn't it? That all of that was just because Aizen was lonely?"

A slow smile spread across Gin's lips. The idea that the past hundred years, the loss and pain and bloodshed, everything he had given up and everything he had become, had all, all been simply because Aizen had been lonely, it was too much. A choked laugh escaped his lips, followed by another, and he might have broken into peals of laughter if he had not been overtaken by a coughing fit that soon had his tiny nurse rolling him onto his side and stroking his back as he coughed and choked. Pain ripped through his chest and blood filled his throat and mouth.

Urahara dodged out of the way as Gin coughed up a bright spray of blood. "Oh, my, that does not look comfortable. I'm sure it will go away in a few days. If not we could always try removing that lung, not sure what good it would do you to keep it anyway, all scarred up and all."

Even coughing up blood, Gin was able to glare up at the too enthusiastic shopkeeper.

"A-raa--don't look at me like that. It's not nice. We're helping you out after all. It's been a lot of work for poor Ururu putting you back together. And I've had to redo all my barriers to keep your reiatsu hidden from all the shinigami wandering about these days. Why Abarai-san is just down the hall sweeping, and he has no idea you're here! Don't you think you ought to thank us or at the very least keep the murderous intent to a minimum?"

The coughing had finally ceased and Ururu was holding a glass of water to her patient's lips to help him wash the blood from his mouth.

Gin ignored her. The coughing fit had stolen the last of his strength. He let his head fall against the blood-splattered futon and closed his eyes as he whispered one final question. "Where's Ran?"

"Don't worry," Urahara answered, and for the first time the laughing tone left his voice. "She will be here soon."

"You bastard!"

Gin turned his head slowly to face the one and only purpose of his existence. He expected a show of fury like no other. One thing his Rangiku could do was yell. She could and often had yelled at him till his ears rang and her throat was hoarse. She could go on for hours when really peeved. He only hoped she would save hitting him for when he was sure he could remain conscious.

But the Rangiku who stared at him as she stood in the open doorway was not a creature of fire and fury. As she looked at him she seemed to shrink back into herself. The past century and all the strength and courage she had gained in that time seemed to evaporate and she was once again the lost and helpless little girl he'd found starving in the Rukon district. One slow hand raised to her mouth as if to hide her horror filled expression from him and tears spilled from her wide and frightened eyes.

"Hello," he said, in that same fake, cheerful tone he had mastered long years ago, and a fox-like smile spread across his face.

"Gin!" she wailed, collapsing beside him and flinging her arms around him. "How could you be so stupid?" she demanded between sobs. "How could you do this to me? You're so stupid! You're the stupidest, dumb, dumb, stupid, stupid idiot!"

He raised his one remaining arm and slowly wrapped it around her. "I missed you too, Ran-chan," he said, his voice not managing much more than a whisper.

She turned to meet his eyes and was surprised to see tears slip from those always smiling eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

"You might have followed me," he answered. His forced smile faded, and he drew his hand to her face. "You needed to stay in Soul Society with your chibi-captain and all your friends. You needed to stay Rangiku."

His hand followed the curve of her cheek back into her hair. "I could become a snake to follow him as long as my Rangiku remained."

She had wanted to yell at him, to tell him just how stupid his plan had been, and how he could have trusted others, and if he'd just let them help all of this could have ended so much better. She wanted to tell him it was all his fault, and he deserved everything he got. He was beyond lucky to be alive, and she should turn him over to Soul Society. She wanted to tell him she hated him for everything he had done.

But looking down into those cold eyes that never, never gave a clue to what he thought or felt, all that anger and all that hatred dissolved. "I love you, Ichimaru Gin, and I am never, never going to let you leave me ever again," she declared, bowing her head to his neck and tightening her arms around him.

"Understood."

It was only a minute or two before she felt his arm loosen and realized he'd fallen asleep. She sat back slowly and looked over her childhood friend. It was frightening to see him like this. In all the years she'd known him, he'd never before shown even the slightest hint of weakness. He'd never even been hurt before, not enough to end up in Division Four. Being completely and entirely sufficient in himself was all that drove him, or so she'd always believed. Every choice he'd ever made had made him stronger and more independent of others. Even when he had followed others, when he'd entered the Academy and then the Gotei, his goal had always been to learn enough and to become strong enough he would no longer need his teachers.

She'd thought that was why he'd become so distant with her. She'd thought that even friendship felt like weakness to him. She'd thought he only endured her for the sake of their shared history, and he did not let her in because he could not afford to let himself lean on her. How wrong she'd been!

He'd been protecting her! The idiot! If there'd ever been a fatal flaw Gin's inability to trust anyone was his. He'd been a child when he'd discovered Aizen's evil, so maybe it made sense not to go to others for help. Children who grew up in the Rukon district learned quickly not to expect much from grown-ups, and especially not shinigami, but still--he'd had a hundred years among them. If he'd ever risked opening up he would have found friends, just like she had, and some of them, he could have trusted with his life.

There was a knock on the door and the shoji was slid back. The ever-sad Ururu stood in the doorway with a pile of clean bandages and jars of healing salves and medications. "I have to change his bandages," the girl said softly.

"Of course," Rangiku hopped to her feet. "I have to get back anyway. Some of my friends are beginning to notice I keep disappearing"