*** ½"***
Now Gin knows he's fretting.
Lord Aizen ain't looking at him funny 'cause he looks at everybody funny. The Espada aren't suspicious. They don't care and they've got better things to do than to see the gardening shears in his sash or notice the dirt under his fingers.
Tosen. Tosen is the worst but the guy is blind as a bat.
Yet everyday Gin's smile is getting wider. It's growin' like a cancer. Soon enough his teeth are going to start showing and nobody wants that.
They're just itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow flowers. There ain't any harm in that.
"Gin. Would you like to enlighten us all on what you are thinking?" Aizen is doing that look again being all squinty eyes and seein' all. Gin shuffles his reports which are covered in spelling errors that nobody cares about. Tosen is staring in his direction except he's two inches off.
"The Espada aren't peachy things but they ain't gonna harm anything." The shinigami rambles and Aizen turns those scopes away towards the desert like he gets a kick out of seein' miles and miles of the same damn thing.
The room lapses into silence. Aizen revs up a little and faces Gin again.
"You are aware that lying is a very strange form of showing loyalty."
The man stills and freezes his thoughts. He traces every time he went to his garden and came back. Every time he wiped those cams. Every time he thought about it. Nah. There ain't anything.
Gin shrugs showing his hands because revealing exactly what he's doing sets people at ease. "I'm not a big fan of 'em. They give me the heebie jeebies."
"They were our enemies for hundreds of years." Aizen nods like he understands what is in Gin's head. "They are just tools. If they think about stepping out of line, I'll slaughter them all and we will start over."
The smile on Gin's face increases. "Right-o boss."
"The way of justice will stay true as long as we do not forget our goal." Tosen stirs, maybe he was napping because nobody would ever know the difference.
"Awwwww….thanks Tosen." Gin slips his hands away again since the danger has passed. "I ain't gotten my dose of justice for the day."
Tosen doesn't respond although Aizen is smiling spite himself. Itsa the right move. Gin cocks his head and scratches the back of it like he's got an itch. He doesn't, he's dislodging the dirt that he spotted under his pinky.
"Late night meetin's are nice and all but I've got hollows to terrorize tomorrow. It's time for some shut eye."
Aizen doesn't say anything. He doesn't have too. He just turns back to the view that's as boring as a bum. Gin leaves him to his starin' and walks out. He could care less if Tosen and Aizen talk more. They were boring this late at night since all they talk about are things that don't matter.
Who cares about the anatomy of philosophy or the truth or the universe or why dogs turn around when they go to sleep when all that matters is there is an entire sky between him and Rangiku.
Bleh. It ain't Gin's taste.
A couple hours later, he goes to his little patch. He likes that name cause a patch stops things from bleedin'.
He doubles back six times and creates a dummy in his room that emanates his spiritual pressure. Sure it hurts a little but it's a peace of mind thing. Like how everyone wears undies, sure nobody knows ya wear 'em but ya do it anyways.
Gin rushes down the stairs, two at a time and jumping the third step every couple with momentum. Shunpo ain't an option unless you're stupid. Aizen's smile is a worm in his head eating through his thoughts.
He doesn't know nothing. He's too busy prunin' off the weak in his own growing army.
The curtain is funny when he gets there and the shinigami's smile disappears with a poof. The cloth is half tossed back and wrinkled. Gin stops and waits, who did this and could they be waitin' to catch him on the other side? The pots he can see are normal looking. The bulbs are peekin' out their heads with little green things called sprouts.
He eases down the last step and drops to the bottom level. He could kill anything here easy as long as it ain't a shinigami and then collapse the floor so it all looks like an accident. It'd be simple as taking a piece of pie. It just matters who he is dealing with. Aizen ain't gonna to take too kindly to his gardening habits.
"'eeellllooooo….?" Gin's hand rests on the hilt of his sword. It screams in his head for blood and blood quick. Meh. Shinsō is always reaching for more, no matter what.
The shinigami peeks into his patch, "I know ya are there. I don't wanna skewer ya right away."
Silence. Gin hates to move forward to see just who is teasing him. Just 'cause it causes too many complications. He isn't thinking about the blood and gore or the killin' part but just all the bother this stuff will make for him.
He ain't the cleanup crew, he's the one that makes the mess.
"Alright. Ya had your chance."
Gin walks into the room.
It's empty.
The fan he uses for air circulation has fallen. It hums against the floor and presses the curtain back in a weird way. The machine had turned and turned and turned until it had spun itself off the stool that Gin had swiped from his blind friend.
The fan chuckles to itself as the shinigami falls a little in on himself. Only after a moment does he realize he's been holding his breath like a fool.
Gin walks over to the fan and pulls it upright with a jerk. It ain't a close call. It ain't anything worth worrin' about but he has to ignore his heart drummin' a million beats per minute.
At least fifty six more days to go.
Darn, they're gonna be long ones too.
