She came in like smoke and by the time Gin had closed the door she was already wrapped in a white robe, curled on his bed, sword tucked under her chin.

"Shy all of the sudden, Ran-chan?"

"If we're going to have an out and out, I want to be clothed for the drag-down."

Gin hummed as he walked toward her, tracing the curve of her hip with his eyes. "There's two things you could be talking about. I wanna do the fun one."

"Was Hinamori fun?"

"Stabbing pretty little girls really ain't my MO"

"And Kira?"

"Involving him was… just my style." Gin sat down next to her and reached out a hand to stroke her hair. "Don't take this as a complaint, kitten, but you being here is treason ain't it?"

She kissed his palm softly, "No one could know. Haneko sees to that."

"Aizen will know."

"You overestimate him."

"You have no idea." Sliding a finger down the fold of her robe he thumbed the fabric.

"You still haven't found a way to keep clothes on. Mine looks good on you."

"They don't travel well. How does the white look?"

"Radiant." Gin breathed, drawing her closer. "Your hair still smells like jasmine."

"The white washes me out. I look weak."

"Never," He crooned, "If only you had held on longer, ne? White all the time, then. Instead it was drinks with Shuuhei and my cute Kira, wasn't it?"

Matsumoto drew away to cuddle with her zanpaktou, "You are remarkably well-informed. But he isn't your Kira anymore."

"We'll see about that. How was he?"

"Needy and scared. Shuu was a bit more lively. You and Tousen know of a hell of a way to ruin a threesome." Matsumoto sulked as Gin ghosted his fingers down her throat until her huffs subsided into sighs.

"It was all just rebound, kitten. Don't blame me."

"But I do" Matsumoto buried herself into his shoulder, speaking softly. "Why did you have to go away and break the illusion? I wanted it to stay the good place led by good people it never was."

"Tousen says we're enshrining Justice. Aizen-sama says he's gonna be the higher force to put things right. Me, well…" Gin bundled Rangiku into his arms in one fluid movement. His teeth scraped sharply against her shoulder. "Right now I just wanna do unspeakable things to the finest breasts in Sereitei."

Rangiku sprawled under white sheets and traced the veins under her skin. They were so dark now, in this pale place lit by an unchanging moon. While in the living world, she had asked Urahara why being a captain hadn't been enough for Aizen. He had -between solicitations for highly lucrative photoshoots- said, "You should understand, Matsumoto-san. Surely you've felt the tight grip of the hand we call Soul Society. I hear that you were young when you came here, so maybe you don't expect any better, but Soul Society isn't the place many of us hoped it would be. Aizen's betrayal validates his own point, in a way. It is a strange… heaven -is what I think the living call it- where wicked men like us may do as we please."

"Might was only to be conferred to the right. Wasn't it supposed to be a court of pure souls?" Matsumoto murmured as her lips brushed the furrowed forehead of the man sleeping next to her. She tucked a strand of his silver hair behind his ear before whispering to Haneko and dissolving into smoke, searching out the smooth places between this world and the one she thought she called home.