"Aizen-kun, might I have a moment of your time?"
AIzen looked up to see Captain Kyoraku sticking his head, with that ridiculous hat, into his office. That was not a sight he was used to seeing; in fact he could not remember Kyoraku ever just dropping by. He wasn't one of the captains Kyoraku found particularly entertaining, but today the old captain looked unusually serious.
"Of course, sir, please," Aizen said, getting to his feet immediately. He was somewhat surprised no one had come to see him sooner. He had not thought Matsumoto particularly subtle about her pregnancy or the identity of the father.
Kyoraku smiled slightly and entered, closing the door behind him.
Aizen went to a liquor cabinet on one side of the room. "I understand you have a fondness for human drinks, Captain. Can I interest you in a martini?"
"Now that does sound nice," Kyoraku said, as he made himself comfortable in one of the office chairs. "I was just about to go visit Isshin; I heard he's got some quality sake, but a martini, that does sound nice."
Aizen calmly mixed the drinks and brought them over to Kyoraku. He set them on a low table before Kyoraku before taking another of the seats. "Now, Captain, please tell me what brings you all the way down here to the Fifth."
Kyoraku, who'd been blissfully enjoying his drink, lost his smile instantly. "Aah," he said with a soft and disappointed sigh. "It's your young lieutenant. I ran into him with a-friend-in the park just a little while ago."
"Was this friend Matsumoto Rangiku of the Tenth?" Aizen asked with an equally disappointed sigh.
"The boy is young, and, I understand, a bit of a mess, but you chose to take him on right out of the Academy, and you've done well, training him to reach his potential very rapidly, maybe a bit too rapidly. He seems to have missed some training on other topics of at least equal import-we can't have our lieutenants knocking up the junior officers, we just can't."
"I quite agree, sir," Aizen said somberly.
"Not that I don't understand that these things happen. Rangiku-chan is, well, she's a lovely girl, and any man would be sorely tempted-but precautions ought to be taken, and if something happens-well, they can't just go along all the same with a baby on the way and no one taking responsibility.
"Poor Rangiku-chan will be out for good if the General hears about this. He won't have single mothers in his army, not that I really blame him, what on earth are we going to do with a baby if its mother dies? But Rangiku-chan doesn't have any other skills. She's a shinigami through and through. Isshin once told me she has the reiatsu of a lieutenant, but, beyond kido and sword play, she's absolutely useless. She isn't going to be able to support herself outside the Gotei, much less a baby.
"Where is your lieutenant in all this? Why hasn't he stepped up? Taken responsibility? What sort of man is he that he'd let her face this alone?"
Aizen listened to Kyoraku's speech, patiently. It amazed him how upset the Captain could get about a girl he barely knew, but that was typical Kyoraku. The man had an absurd level of weakness for all things female. Another captain might have complained about Gin's lack of honor. For Kyoraku, it was all about Matsumoto.
"I have spoken to Gin-kun and expressed my disappointment," Aizen said, seriously. "He has assured me, more than once, of his willingness to marry Matsumoto-san. He insists that the only delay is a lack of funds. They are both orphans of Rukongai and have no family at all to assist them in starting their new life together, so that may be nothing but the truth. Neither strike me as the sort to have saved any money for a rainy day. On the other hand Gin-kun has a tendency to put every chore off to the very last minute, and he may very well be putting it off simply because he can."
"Well, tell him to get a move on, and if the problem really is finances, I know some people and can probably get them somewhere cheap to live, and loan him a little cash if he needs it. He can't leave poor Rangiku-chan hanging over something as unimportant as money."
"That's very kind of you, sir," Aizen said. "I will let him know."
"Well, thank you for the martini, and now I'd best be getting on to Division Ten."
Establishing a family roll had to be the least romantic way of getting married in the entire universe. At least that was how Rangiku was beginning to feel after the first hour talking to a government bureaucrat had passed, and they still hadn't gotten past the first line of the form. Gin had finally won the argument that neither of them had family rolls in existence that they should be added to, but the bureaucrat wasn't willing to concede that Gin's real name could possibly be Gin, written in katakana. He would accept hiragana, after finally admitting that some very unusual person might have named his child Gin, but the katakana was a step to far.
Rangiku didn't see what the big deal was and would have let the bureaucrat have his way, but Gin had gotten stubborn and was currently shunpoing to the Fifth Division and back to fetch his official notice of promotion, which had his name on it, and the man would have to accept as proof of its official spelling.
"Is there any part I can fill out without him?" she asked, not feeling particularly hopeful.
"I am sorry, Matsumoto-san, but it is his family roll that you are going to be added to, not the other way around. He must be here to oversee every step of its creation."
"Of course," Rangiku said, leaning on her elbow and scanning the large room. She was only one of many people arguing helplessly with government bureaucrats. She felt even sorrier for them than she was feeling for herself. After all, she was getting married if they ever got this finished.
Gin reappeared abruptly and shoved his notice under the bureaucrat's nose. "See it?" he demanded. "Katakana, just like I told you. I know how to write my own name."
The man frowned and squinted at the paper for nearly a minute before conceding the point. He copied the name slowly and laboriously onto the roll.
Rangiku's eyes went to Gin. "Feeling better?" she asked.
He smiled back at her. "You didn't really expect me to let him misspell my name, did you?"
She shook her head. "I've never even been sure it was your name," she answered.
"What do you mean?"
"I thought you might have made it up like you did my birthday," she answered. "It is a strange name."
"I happen to like my name. It's unique."
The baby, or demon spawn, as she liked to think of it, chose that minute to kick her in the side, reminding her of how they'd come to be here in the first place. Her eyes dropped to her growing tummy. Even with all the constant changes to her body it was difficult for her to believe they were really going to have a baby. "We should think of a good name for the baby," she said. "Something unique."
"Nah, kids should have nice ordinary names. They don't want to stand out," Gin answered.
Rangiku raised her head in surprise. She hadn't expected a response at all, much less one that sounded at all thought out. She was pretty sure Gin spent even less time thinking about the demon spawn than she did, somewhere close to not at all.
She wanted to ask him about it, but he was now arguing with the bureaucrat again, something about his residence in Seireitei. The bureaucrat wanted to put him down as a resident of Seireitei but a citizen of Rukongai. Apparently proper sponsorship was required for citizenship. When the bureaucrat suggested that many shinigami were eventually adopted into established families, Gin's eyes widened.
"Of course, wouldn't want to let just anyone in," he said with a smile than sent a shiver down Rangiku's back.
Rangiku leaned in close to him and caught hold of his arm. She whispered, "What difference does it make?"
"None to us," Gin said, still smiling. "We're welcome to live here as long as we're a part of the Gotei and leaving the Gotei alive is practically unheard of, but if our child or grandchild should lack the reiatsu to become a shinigami, as soon as they are grown they would be asked to leave Seireitei-that is how it works, isn't it?"
"Children inherit the citizenship of their parents," the bureaucrat answered. "You cannot expect Seireitei to hand out citizenship to every shinigami and all of their relations. We would be overpopulated in a century."
"We're expected to die to protect your worthless lives, but you won't even let our children live here?" Rangiku demanded, suddenly furious. "You'll just kick them out if they're not useful to you? What the hell is wrong with you people? You'll just take everything-"
"Rangiku," Gin said softly.
"Do you have any idea how hard-"
"Ran," he interrupted again.
"What?" she demanded, turning back to him, glowing with fury.
Gin smiled back at her. "Captains are given citizenship and the right to establish permanent family rolls in Seireitei."
"They are?" she demanded, turning back to the bureaucrat.
"Yes, ma'am,' he agreed uneasily.
She turned back to Gin, smiling. "Then we'll really belong? Our whole family, forever?"
Gin nodded.
"Then it's alright, then. I know you'll make it," she said, and turned back to the desk. "Could you please try to hurry this up? I absolutely loathe paperwork."