Hints on GinRan and, if you squint and look twice and know what I am talking about (XDDD) KomaTou.

He hated this place. Hated its endless, all white corridors. Hated its so very intrusive quietness. Hated that all blue, cloudless sky. Hated its limited number of inhabitants. Hated all of them.

He really hated this never-changing place.

He didn't curse it though. It would have meant cursing its creator. And he wouldn't dare to do that. Plus... He never did curse. It just wasn't worth it, and it made people look weak. He would always laugh at others for doing it... So stupid, giving away their own incapabilities and weak points.

Maybe not laugh though. Rather smile; smile at their stupidity, and smile because it made them even more stupid by confusing them... intimidating them. He liked his smile.

But down here, there was nobody to tease. Those beings Aizen had started creating as soon as Las Noches had been built didn't like him just as the shinigami hadn't; but they didn't fear him. He didn't confuse them. Maybe they had just seen too many scary things, including themselves, to know what fear was anymore.

Which made it all damn boring. So very, very boring. Sometimes he really wished to go back to Seireitei...It had been much more fun being there. He missed it. Missed them, all of them.

He missed Matsumoto (and her breasts), of course, but he also missed Hitsugaya who had been so predictable and thus easy to play on; he missed that jerk Kenpachi, he missed his little pet Izuru, he missed Mister Prettyhair Byakuya, he missed cute scared Hinamori. He even missed Yamajii who had been a pain in the ass but, he had come to think lately, was so stuck with his opinion and everything that he was even more predictable than Hitsugaya; although that didn't change the fact that captains' meetings were just plain boring.

There was no way to get back though, and he was fully aware of that.

But sometimes he wished to. There was nothing that remained of his time at the place he had spend the longest time of his life. Nothing to remind him of it... Not even his clothes...

His steps halted. No. There actually were... Two things.

Two people, to be correct.

One of them right before him. He had, without really noticing, left the corridors to wander under the blue heaven, and now there stood one of the two shinigami that had remained to him.

Tousen stood there, head bent back, staring upwards. He must have sensed the silver-haired's presence, but he didn't turn around. For some minutes, they stood in silence, both of them lost in their respective thoughts. Then the former 9th division captain raised his voice.

"Tell me, Ichimaru... Is this sky any different from Soul Society?"

"It's blue." The answer was mean, and he had made it regarding the fact that the other man was blind. But sadly Tousen didn't react to it.

"So there are no clouds in it?"

Gin blinked in surprise. "No... Why so yer know 'bout clouds? Ya can't see them, can yer?"

"Of course not." The tiniest smile ghosted over his features. "But Saijin loved them so much... He once bought tons of cotton candy to show me how they are..."

"White." But the taller man had noticed that there was some sadness in the other's voice, some underlying longing... "Want ter see 'em?"

"No." Then, softening his harsh words, Tousen added: "My sight I don't miss because I never had it... It's rather..." His words trailed away.

"You miss him, don't yer?"

"As do you."

Gin nearly choked. "Komamura? Yer-"

"Yes. And Kuchiki and Unohana, and Kyouraku, and Ukitake, and Soi Fong and even Kenpachi and Mayuri. Kira as well, I guess." He turned, facing him. "Right?"

Would they have been normal men, their eyes would have locked and they would have tried to stare each other down now. But they weren't. Neither of them looked at the world with his eyes. So there was only a deep silence between them.

"How do ye know?" Had he given himself away? No... surely not... How should he. It must had been a good guess. Anyway, it didn't change anything. Aizen already knew, that he was sure about, and those creations of him didn't count, nor did Tousen.

"You seem to be lost." The shorter man directed his eyes back on the sky.

"Lost?" Ichimaru chuckled in disbelief. "I ne'er get lost. Sometimes I don' care where I'm goin', that's all."

"But there has always been a place to come back to, right?"

The taller man twitched. "Whadda' ye talkin' 'bout?"

There was no answer, but Kaname turned and directed his empty eyes at him. He seemed to consider his answer closely, but then to decide to not give it. Instead, he started to walk away.

But Gin wouldn't let him.

Using shunpo, he got himself to stand behind the shorter form, wrapping his arms around the man's waist. Resting his chin on the dark, bare shoulder, he directed his always closed eyes at the ceiling of Las Noches.

"What is it, Ichimaru?"

"Ya really don' have ta be that stiff, ya know? Jus' call me Gin." Grinning, his fingers started to draw small circles on the white robes under his hands.

"Do you miss her that much?"

"Wha'dda ye talkin' 'bout?" His eyes opened to form little slits... And once more he came to appreciate the other's blindness. He hated people seeing his eyes. It was not exactly because their icy color unsettled people. To him, freaking out people without really idoing/i anything was the most fun he could have. It was not because people tended to avoid his stare. Usually, they avoided all of him, anyway.

The reason to it was totally different.

His eyes, their colour, their gaze, their gleaming, their shine... It was something that belonged to him. Something that was his and his alone. Something private.

Possessing something that was only oneself's was a luxury totally foreign to most of the people in the outer Rukongai, where he had grown up. But he had wanted to have this luxury. He knew that it was a symbol of strength to have a thing that was not shared with anyone and nobody would steal from him.

And the boy had always known that he was stronger than most of those ignorant, naive, stupid weaklings around him.

He had always known he was special.

Those ever closed eyes where his mark, his sign. Everyone knew whom to think about if they saw a smiling face with slitted eyes.

"Matsumoto. You have never before tried to make me call you by your first name, so I guess it's that you wish to hear it from someone else than Aizen-sama? Or, to put it differently... You want me to replace your friend?"

"Rangiku?" He chuckled, snuggling closer to the other man. "There's no way yer could replace her, 'cuz ya lack," his hand came up and patted the respective places, "certain features."

"That wasn't what I was talking about." Tousen stiffened, and Ichimaru realized something. He hadn't considered his actions before, hadn't even noticed what he was doing and saying until now.

Which didn't mean that he was embarrassed or that it made him stop. He liked the warmth of this other living being against his body, and he liked the uneasiness his touch caused the man yet at the same moment wished for it to vanish.

"So yer talkin' 'bout yerself?" He smiled smugly.

Silence. Tousen didn't bother to answer, or rather, as Gin concluded, his line of reasoning had been right and the shorter man really missed Soul Society just as much as he did.

Only that the reasons were totally different ones.

And neither of them would talk about his. Not with anyone, and least of all with each other.

But they could share their loneliness. Could comfort each other. And maybe, maybe find redemption in it.