Author's notes:
The manga is as always kick-ass, ne!? Hope to kick some too with this chapter XD
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The land seemed to go on forever, vanishing somewhere far away in the blue horizon.
A slight breeze moved along the ground, bending the knee high grass stalks as a ripple went through the meadow. Red, yellow and white blossoms dotted his surroundings, moving with the wind, accompanied by the soft murmuring as the stalks stroked against one another.
He had been here many times before.
This was his world.
If he turned around, he could see the old, burned shack standing lonely on top of the hill behind him.
When he had first been there, he had walked up to the rotting door, fingers almost touching the handle and had stared at the wooden planks, the formally brown color having faded into a depressing grey centuries ago.
He couldn't fully explain why he hadn't opened the door back then.
Maybe the oppressive aura –death and sorrow- surrounding the shack had been the reason. Or the broken toy horse made of maple wood lying half buried in the dirt in front of the door.
The house seemed to evoke emotions from somewhere deep within his mind. Hurt, loneliness, fear. Hope, joy and the feeling of being loved. He couldn't explain why he was associating them with one another, but they had made him stop.
In this world, where only peaceful silence existed, Gin had met shinsou for the first time.
A young man with pure white eyes, wearing a blood red yukata. He was taller then him and was holding a long spear in one hand, the metal tip soaked in fresh blood.
He never talked, lips sealed and forming a thin line as he always looked ahead into the distance, the black hair tied in a ponytail whipping back and forth in the breeze. Because of the fact that shinsou never spoke to him it had been quite a pain to find out anything about him.
In the end, it had been the wind that had given away the name of his zanpakutou, having whispered the syllables with a soft murmur, like grass rustling in a breeze and had carried them across the hill to the far away horizon.
This time Gin was alone in his mind.
No shinsou waiting in the meadow for him to find out something new, stilling the feeling that something was missing deep inside.
Frowning, the boy with the striking hair color took a step forward, his bare feet getting wet from the dewy stalks engulfing him. A gust of strong wind caught his yukata from behind, making Gin turn around his head to where the shack was standing.
With a growing feeling of trepidation, he found a mountain of dark thunderclouds moving towards him from behind the broken roof, banishing the light from the silent world.
There had never been a change in weather before and slowly, he began to back away.
The sound of a knock came unexpected and made him jerk together in surprise. It had originated from the shack's door, resounding in his ears as the noise got carried along with the strong wind.
Something was definitely wrong here.
First shinsou didn't show up and now the thunderheads.
And the air around him seemed to get heavier with every second ticking by, like a weight pressing down on his torso with increasing pressure.
"Fear."
Gin stood deathly still. The voice had come from behind him, distorted, sounding like that of one of those masked monsters.
"Pathetic insect." The disembodied voice drawled again, making a shiver run down Gin's spine.
For a very long moment, everything around him seemed to cease to exist, the wind having stopped and even the clouds appeared to have been frozen into place. He could hear his breath coming out in heavy pants, the echo of his heart thrumming a fast rhythm reverberating in his ears.
The pressure on his body grew as a strangely familiar dark energy wrapped around his being like a huge hand squeezing his body.
With all the courage he could muster, Gin turned around.
And froze.
It felt as if he was staring at his reflection in a mirror. A boy looking exactly like him stood there in the meadow, grinning a dark smile, eyes crinkled up. He wore a white shihakushou, his pitch black lips standing at stark contrast to his pure white skin.
As Gin's gaze travelled down the boy's form, he found the black hilt of a short katana lurking out from where it was tucked away in the obi, the s-shaped cross guard glinting in the dimming light.
His opponent was carrying shinsou. There was no doubt.
"Wh-who are ya?" Gin demanded to know, feeling his courage draining from his body as cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
What was that feeling? A strange numbness was spreading out through his limbs, the tips of his fingers prickling as if penetrated by uncountable pins.
"Dumb one, ya weak squirt!" His reflection retorted with a short bark of laughter. "I am you!"
The white boy's lids opened, revealing yellow pupils embedded into black eyeballs. He gazed back at Gin, staring him down with the maniacal energy radiating from every centimeter of his being.
Gin could feel the darkness of the thunderheads creeping up his legs from behind.
His body was losing all feelings as if he was about to lose consciousness.
He had been like this before. Back then when he had come to save Rangiku from those men, his control over his body and mind had slipped out of his grasp just the same way as every coherent thought had been replaced by oppressive darkness.
"Ya're too weak to keep me from getting' control fer ever!" The anger was getting louder in the screeching voice of his reflection. "Don't'cha think, that bastard shinsou can protect ya much longer. I am the king!!"
His knees felt weak. The sound of thunder registered somewhere in his clouding mind.
His white self moved closer, one hand holding onto the hilt of his zanpakutou. His muscles strained, but it appeared he was unable to draw it.
"Fear is all ya got, gutless kid!" The white boy spat.
His surroundings faded away into nothingness along with his black and white reflection.
When Gin opened his eyes again, he instantly knew that he was back in the world of the living dead.
It was night, the light of the moon filtering through a small window in the opposite wall. Brows knitting together into a frown, he got aware of his surroundings and that he was no longer lying on his straw mat, but was instead standing in the middle of the room.
As the haze lifted from his mind completely, Gin realized that the right side of his face was covered by something cold. And when he touched it, it felt like the cool surface of a porcelain.
The terror rose in his throat and with a pained gasp, he tore the thing from his face, throwing it to the floor and taking a step back from it.
In a ray of pale light, the perfect half of a mask was staring back at him with a hollow eye.
"No… ", he began, taking another step away from the thing.
His gaze suddenly came to rest on the peacefully sleeping form of the girl he had come to trust more than anything else in his life.
Gin's breathing came out in a shocked gasp when he realized for the first time, that his right hand was wrapped around the hilt of his drawn sword. The edge of the blade reflected the little light as the tip of the katana pointed at Rangiku's body.
"This can't be happening… no… "
With a clatter, shinsou fell to the ground, Gin sinking down onto his knees as all the energy drained from him.
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FINIS?!
Hope ya all liked it! Feel free to r&r!