50 Years Later
Gin swore as Shinso clattered to the ground, the blood soaking through his robes. At the moment, he was useless. The hollow had ripped his body as easily as paper. What the hell was that kid doing out here? Why did he take that hit? He watched the kid run forward towards him.
"No!" someone grabbed him and yanked him back, pushing him off, "Go inside the house!"
"Sister—"
"I said go!" she shouted before running over to Gin.
His heart almost stopped in his chest. Her eyes were darker, her hair was darker but she looked like Rangiku. Same chest, same look of annoyance, same everything. And she was looking right at him, not through him, not past him, but at him. She turned her head to face the Hollow, her eyes wide before she turned to him.
"How do I help them?" she demanded looking at him, seeming to know instinctively that he had the answers.
"You have to become like me," he said looking up at her.
"How?" she demanded. He held out Shinso. She grabbed the blade without any hesitation and placed it in the middle of her chest. Part of him wanted to scream and rip the blade away but he kept his hand there, "Do it," she ordered. He nodded, "Come on Shinigami, what are you waiting for?"
"It's not Shinigami," he sighed, his ruby eyes opening, "it's Ichimaru Gin."
"Saruwatari Mitsuki," she said.
"Nice to meet you," he said with a smile that she couldn't help but return before shoving the Zanpakuto into her chest once more.
The explosion lit up the night sky.
And of all the unlucky shinigami in Seireitei, Ichimaru Gin found himself in trouble, again.
Well, he reasoned, it was time for a new adventure anyway.