A/N: This chapter was inspired by the animated version of Gin's death. All-in-all, I found it to be an extraordinarily moving scene. I think my original reading of Gin's death in the manga made me fall in love with him. Now I feel that my love is justified.

The Hour of Reconciliation

Don't you know what slowly makes one gentle?
Why cruelty never comes by chance?

-Betti Alver, Stellar Hour

::I'm a snake.::

The snow fell lightly, like the tears of the wind, as he haphazardly trudged through it. It was cold. Or it was supposed to be. For some reason, however, he felt strangely warm—as if the angels of Soul Society had decided to caress him, to wrap him in their arms. But what angels? He knew there were no angels. There never had been, really. Well, no angels…except for one…

"Gin!" her voice rang out through the haze, sonorous and clear, a bell in the silence. "Gin!"

He wanted to stop. To turn towards that reassuring voice. To reach out and grasp on to her. This time he wouldn't let go. He hadn't known what it meant to lose the only person that mattered. Only her…only that voice…

::My skin is cold. I have no heart.::

But part of him hesitated, suddenly fearful. Were there any more secrets remaining to rest between them? Had there ever really been secrets? No, she had known all along. On some level, at least, she had always known his heart was hers.

He halted, waiting, but when he turned around, there was only the outline of her shadow in the snow.

"Gin!" she called again as the snow took shape, forming the curves of her body and highlighting the crystal blue of her eyes. "Where are you going now?"

::I use the tip of my tongue to find my prey as I slither on the ground and engulf what I like whole.::

He had always had a plan. He had always put one foot in front of the other towards some unspoken goal. But now, he realized, he was merely walking blindly. "I don't know anymore…Rangiku."

Rangiku extended her hand and Gin watched as drops of ice encircled it. Slowly, she approached him, glowing candescently in the white light of the snow. Her very presence penetrated the encroaching shadows, holding them at bay.

It was always like that. Shadows and snow dividing them. There Rangiku stood, white and untouched. Pure. He…well, he was darker, constantly frozen in place by the cold, held back by the skin of his identity—the skin of a snake. And yet she had always called out to him, warming him so that he could press onwards and sliver to the next battle, the next segment of his life.

It seemed like a wretched existence, a wretched way to eventually die, but he had long since decided that he would do anything to avenge her; he had decided, from the moment that he saw her lying there all those years ago—wounded and hungry— that he would don the snakeskin and choke the life out of his own soul. If it meant he could protect her.

::That's the sort of creature I am.::

"Gin," she sobbed, folding her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. "Don't you see? You don't have to go anywhere."

Gin smiled sadly, opening his eyes to regard her. "I don't think I've got much choice…"

Already the snow was beginning to stop. He knew, once the last flake fell, it would be all over. This moment, in whatever dream, whatever memory, would come to a conclusive halt. Gin pulled her closer, taking in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her body pressed against his. He had always been afraid to get close to her. He had known his mission to destroy Aizen and he hadn't wanted to involve her in it.

But it wasn't just Aizen that had kept them apart. It had been largely, in part, because of Gin himself. He had feared Rangiku more than any one else. In terms of power, he had always been stronger. But she wielded a power that he couldn't touch. A power over him.

The image was beginning to fade. Rangiku slowly released him and reached up to touch his face. "Why do you always go where I can't reach you?"

He reached for her hand, but his own passed through it, just as the last snowflake settled on the ground.

It was time.

Gin watched as the shadows overcame the mirage. They flocked towards him, stepping around Rangiku, and bound him in chains. He heard her cry out after him, but she had begun to fade into the distance, merging with the snow. "I'm sorry," he called out in a whisper, as the chains began to drag him down, "I…"

"Gin!"

There was nothing that remained of her form. Only her cry resonated in the darkness. But still, he could imagine her tears, her disappointment.

"I…"

He didn't fight the darkness. He didn't see a reason to fight fate. But he held onto that image of the snow; he remembered the feel of her arms holding him close. And slowly, he opened his eyes to reality.

Farewell. Rangiku.

Gin appreciated the cool water on his face; it didn't erase the image of Rangiku in his head, but at the very least, it let him know he was awake.

He glanced into the surface of the lake, watching as the ripples distorted his reflection, though he wasn't particularly concerned with what he saw there, staring back at him from the sheen of the water's mirror. He was thinking of Rangiku. Of her sobs. Of her pleading voice and desperate eyes. He had left her again—even if it had been a dream—he had been pulled away from her by reality's firm grip.

It just wasn't meant to be, was it?

He didn't like the reflection of himself, as the water stilled, and he finally took note of his own weary appearance. Physically he looked the same. Gin didn't often look at himself in a mirror back in Soul Society—or in Hueco Mundo, for that matter—but he knew the man in the lake as well as he could know himself. At least, he thought he did.

Gin had always called himself a snake. He had worked to play the part. Some of it, he had to admit, wasn't an act. For the most part, he had never cared about others. He hadn't cared about the Shinigami in Soul Society. With the exception of Rangiku. He had never cared about Aizen, despite his prolonged act of unwavering loyalty. And he had never cared about the Arrancar that had worked beneath him—whether they lived or died had been a trivial matter.

But sometimes a snake had to shed its skin. Perhaps death would finally allow him to shed his.

"Gin?"

Sakura was leaning against a tree for support as she watched him. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, wondering how long she had been there—and whether or not she had witnessed the conflict reflected on the surface of the water. With a great deal of effort, Gin assumed his normal façade, allowing his face to fall into a state of nonchalance and ease.

"You're lookin' better today!"

Sakura looked away, trying to hide the slight color that rose to her cheeks, "Because of you."

"Nah, I didn't do nothin'," he replied simply, turning back to the water.

"No," she protested. "I wouldn't have even tried to heal myself. I don't know why, but I almost didn't care if I died. Once I wasn't afraid anymore, I just wanted to close my eyes and never open them again. I don't know what got into me. I don't understand why—"

"It's normal," he cut in, not exactly reassuringly, but forcefully enough that she had to stop. "It's normal to want t' give in t' death when you're more than halfway there. It seems easy enough, doesn't it?"

"I don't know…" She sounded a bit bitter, but in truth, Sakura was merely annoyed with herself. "I promised him that I'd keep fighting for my dreams—for my ninja way. But that thing, whatever it was, sucked all my hopes away. It felt empty." She paused and stared quietly at the bandages on Gin's back. "You know what it was, don't you? It's something from your world."

Gin turned around once again to face her, beginnin to slowly inch his way closer. "A hollow. One of the bad souls I told ya about."

Fear crept back into Sakura's eyes, but she averted them in hopes of hiding it from him. "It's still out there. And we can't see it. What if it's here now, watching us?"

"I wouldn't worry. Hollows aren't usually the kind of bad guys that stalk their prey in silence. If it's watchin' ya, you'll know it."

"You don't seem worried at all." Sakura allowed herself to sink to the base of the tree, suddenly too tired to remain standing. "But I guess that's no surprise. You aren't afraid of anything, are you?"

Gin had drawn within an arm's length of her before he came to a halt. He stared down at her exhausted form, crumpled against the hard bark of the tree, and wondered how this girl had only a day earlier fended off five or six enemies single-handedly. True strength wasn't always obvious, he knew. Ichigo had been a testament to this, as well as his human companions. But what was strength if it remained hidden in the sidelines?

And fear? That was an entirely different story. Fear…Aizen had spoken of fear, moments after the fatal blow.

"Evolution requires fear. The fear that, in your current state, you could die and disappear at any moment."

It was funny that she should mention fear now. Was it because he had not been afraid of death that he had ended up dying? That he had not found the strength to succeed in his mission? In his current state, at the time of his betrayal to Aizen, he had been defeated and, ultimately, he had disappeared from that world.

What was strength if in the end, after years of hiding it, it still failed to achieve the desired results?

Gin finally shrugged—more so in response to his internalized questions than to the one Sakura had asked. "Dunno. Everyone's 'fraid of somethin'."

Sakura snorted in disagreement, thinking of his nonchalant entry into her battle against the shinobi and later the calm manner in which he defended her from the hollow. But then, she remembered his response to her wounds. Perhaps Gin hadn't been afraid, but he had been worried. Worried about her. She would never have thought it possible to incite such a reaction from him.

"So what are we going to do? We clearly can't let that thing run free. I can't do much right now, but I've replenished more of my chakra now, so I'm hurrying the healing process. I will be better within—" Sakura paused upon realizing that Gin was looking off into the distance, entirely consumed by his thoughts. "Gin…"

Gin was having trouble focusing. The dream still remained a foreboding presence in his mind and he couldn't relinquish the image of Rangiku, the sound of her voice.

It had only been a dream, right? Rangiku couldn't reach him here. Nothing from Soul Society should be able to reach him.

And yet, there was the hollow…

What if it wasn't just a fluke?

Gin was willing to believe that perhaps a hollow had made its way into this world using the same means he had—namely death. But was it possible that there were more of them? Gin didn't often feel anxious, but he couldn't stop the chill from crawling down his spine. Something wasn't right.

Was Rangiku's appearance a warning? Was there something more to his imagination—something other than his own feelings? Maybe Sakura was the dream and he would wake up in time to learn that Ichigo had defeated Aizen.

However, much to his discontent, Sakura's voice, upon interrupting his thoughts, shattered any illusions he had of the dream's verity.

"Wha'?"

"I was asking what we're going to do about that…hollow."

Gin didn't seem to recognize the word at first, but after a few calculated seconds, the clouds cleared from his expression. "We?" He gave one of his sharp-fox grins. "Who said anything about 'we'?"

"What? You intend to fight it on your own?" Sakura asked, though she already knew the answer. Her eyes lit up at the first offer of a challenge. "You said yourself last night: you aren't strong enough to kill it."

"Based on your performance last night, I'd say you've got a better chance of dyin' than me." His eyes narrowed into slits, " 'sides, I've already died, I've got more experience."

Sakura scoffed, "You want me to watch you run off to your death?"

"They do tend to say t' leave it t' the professionals, yeah?" Gin didn't bother to hide the enjoyment he found in harassing her endless sentimentalities. "No need t' worry, anyway. It's a weak hollow. I can kill it."

"You couldn't last night, as I recall."

"Ah, sorry. I was too busy savin' someone's ass."

Sakura had to admit defeat. She glanced away, pouting slightly. "Yes, yes. So I heard." And then she smiled mischievously, returning to meet his gaze. "Well, then, what's the plan, oh-mighty-hollow-killer?"

Gin regarded her with barely concealed curiosity. Women. One moment they were worrying themselves silly over your eminent death. The next they were crying from fear that the same predicted eminent death might actually happen. Then, at the end of it all, they had a sword in hand, ready to kill you themselves for having caused them to worry about your death in the first place. And then they did that same smile—the one Sakura was currently giving him—that defied all challenges and answered no questions. The smile that said, I'm smiling, but in my head, I am thinking of seventeen different ways to make your life a living hell. You'll wish you were dead when I'm done.

He might have likened himself to a snake, but in reality, Gin thought, women were the ones who carried all the venom.

Sakura, in his eyes, was no different.

Thus, he thought carefully about her question. A plan? Planning had been Aizen's job. Gin had had plans of his own, but they had been rather singular. The end goals had never changed. But this hollow wasn't Aizen. It was a nuisance, but it wasn't unbeatable. And, Gin was quite sure, it didn't stand a chance of killing him.

He needed to search for it before it found a village. The villagers might not have reiatsu, as would be the case in the human world protected by the Shinigami, but they would still have souls. That meant that he would need to stake out the nearest village and hope to find it before it caused any real wide spread panic.

Suddenly aware that he was plotting to save a human village, Gin couldn't help but mock himself. Irony always struck hardest when it was well-warranted.

"Since it lost its prey last night, it's prob'ly on th' move already," he said, finally, treading carefully around Sakura's suspicious smile.

But her smile was gone almost before he had finished his sentence, "We've got to move quickly then."

"We?" Gin asked again. "I thought we had an understandin'?"

"I can't just sit here and do nothing!"

"You'll just get in th' way."

The blow of his words was hard and swift, hitting her like a gust of hot air. How many times before had she heard those same words? How many times had they reduced her to worthlessness? Sakura had lost count. However, this time something was different. This time, she didn't do what she would have done in times long past. Instead of sulking over it, instead of allowing it to fester and drag her down into a pool of selfish tears, Sakura did something she had learned to do—out of both pride and necessity—from the moment she had watched Sasuke turn his back on her a final time.

She stood up.

Gin backed away, having failed to miss the sudden fury that drove her to her feet.

"Just for that," Sakura didn't miss a beat. "I'm going with you."

Gin was really tired of the woods. He didn't say it aloud. He tried not to even say it to himself. But he couldn't deny it.

Trees bored him.

He had never been a "people" person, but he definitely hadn't been one of those crazy woodsmen either.

Truth be told, he had quite liked Soul Society. It had all the amenities, all the benefits, and being a Shinigami—getting to kill hollows, to kill anything, for that matter—had definitely had its rewards. Gin had never said anything to Aizen—though it was entirely possible that Aizen had known all along—but he had hated Hueco Mundo. And not solely because it had driven the final stake into the heart of his relationship with Rangiku.

Their pace was slow. Sakura was in pain and, because she had long since reached the peak of her stubbornness, she didn't say a word about it. But Gin could tell without having to ask. He could see it in the way she moved, in her slight limp and in the occasional sharp inhalation.

"It's a shame," he began lightly, knowing she would probably flash him a stare gleaming with daggers, "that the hollow will probably get t' finish the job it started last night."

Sakura didn't want to take the bait. She kept her gaze focused on the path of brambles and bushes ahead, watching for any low hanging limbs. She wasn't used to traveling on the forest floor and it only increased her feelings of vulnerability. "It wanted to eat me, right?"

"Well, I s'pose it wanted your soul."

"Maybe it'll be willing to bargain. Your soul is probably much closer to its tastes."

"We can take bets, if ya want."

"What's your offer?"

Gin gave her a sidelong glance, narrowing his eyes in the process, "Not sure I've got anythin' you'd want."

Sakura made no attempt to deny it. But after a moment's contemplation, an idea took hold and she couldn't find the willpower to resist it. "If I win, I get Shinsou."

"If you win, you get—" It took Gin a minute to process her demand. "You get what? You're outta your mind."

She shrugged, "It's dead, remember. You're just being stingy, now. Betting was your idea. Now, you're afraid you might lose." Sakura feigned an air of regret, though her tone was anything but remorseful, "And here I thought that you weren't afraid of anything."

Women. Gin realized that women had been on his mind quite a bit lately, between the dreams and memories of Rangiku and the persistent presence of Sakura. Gin had never even liked women much. And, now, he was pretty sure he didn't like them at all. Women were evil. They plotted, schemed, deceived. And they got away with it. He took one slight three-year-holiday pretending to be on Aizen's side and the entire world hated him afterwards. But if Rangiku had done that…She could have returned, flashed a smile, held up a glass of sake and said "Cheers!" and all would have been forgiven.

"You can't just run off with him."

"I wouldn't be," Sakura pointed out, "because you're going to hand him to me when I win."

"And if I win, what's in it for me?" Gin asked, suddenly realizing that Sakura didn't have anything he found to be of particular value.

"I won't end up tossing you in a river before we get to Konoha."

Despite being in a fair amount of pain, Sakura was thoroughly enjoying the walk. She didn't particularly want to see the hollow again—or hear it, rather—but it was almost worth it for all the hell she was giving Gin on the way there.

"At this rate, we'll never get there," he mumbled, scouting the shadows of the trees. He wanted to ensure that they were prepared this time. "And, how 'bout, if I win, you have to stick around until I've learned to use chakra."

Sakura shook her head, "I can't. I need to get back to the Fire Daimyo as soon as possible. As it is, I already have a lecture waiting for me upon my return.

He shrugged, "High stakes. Don't tell me you're gonna back out now?"

"Fine." Sakura drew herself to a halt and held out her hand. "Shake on it?"

Gin regarded her hand with slight distrust before gripping it firmly with his own. "I feel like I'm makin' a deal with the devil."

"I figured you would know more about the devil than me—being from heaven and all." Sakura laughed quietly and withdrew her hand, slipping away before he could notice her growing smile.

Sakura was wary. Night had fallen and, though all was quiet, she couldn't help but search the shadows beyond the fire. Somewhere, perhaps nearby, that invisible hand sought to crush every bone in the body of some unsuspecting victim and devour his soul. She was determined to protect the villagers. And, despite her best efforts to continue on, Gin had insisted that they rest for the night. He hadn't given her his reasons, but he had been adamant. Deep down, however, she knew he was doing it for her.

As the day had progressed, she had increasingly weakened. She hid the pain behind the map, as she scouted out the nearest village and planned possible traps. But eventually she couldn't hide it. Sakura had her chakra, which she used steadily to numb the pain and to aid the healing process, but chakra couldn't heal fatigue. Simply, she needed to rest.

Gin watched, a bit bemused, as Sakura inched as close to it as she dared. "Afraid?"

"It's not easy, stalking around for some demonic creature. I haven't forgotten what happened last night." Unfortunately, Sakura hadn't been able to shake off that voice—the voice that called out and longed for her soul. Its despair had almost consumed her.

How was it even in her world? That had been the principle question on her mind that day. Though she hadn't voiced it. Sakura assumed that Gin had had many of the same thoughts. If she had found him there, close to death—or newly revived—and then a few days later ran into something else from his world, it couldn't be coincidence. And it most definitely couldn't be a good sign. If one hollow was running rampant—and Sakura was still scratching at the surface of just what a hollow was—then there were bound to be more.

"Hey, Gin?"

He had been distant, despite their small betting and occasional bantering, since she had caught him that morning staring into the lake. Sakura wasn't sure that it was actually the idea of the hollow that bothered him. His features, though never easy to read, did not exude worry as might have been expected with the arrival of something from his own world. No, Sakura decided, there was more to that searching expression he had donned for the day—there was something distinctively sorrowful about it.

"Hm?" Gin tried his best to hide his inattention.

"Do you think there are more?"

"Hollows?" He glanced across the fire, thinking of how similar it was to the previous night, and frowned. "Dunno."

"You don't think they followed you here?"

"I wasn't being chased by hollows when I died," he responded simply. "They were on my side."

Sakura's eyes widened, "You said that you were a Shinigami who fought against the bad souls—against the hollows."

"And I did, for a while." He leaned in closer to the fire, using a nearby stick to poke at it. "Ya don't understand, do ya? I wasn't th' good guy. I just wasn't th' bad guy either. I did somethin' bad in hopes that I could do somethin' good. But not for Soul Society—not for humans or Shingami. For—" He paused, guarding his expression as he cast a fleeting glance in her direction. "For a friend."

"Rangiku?"

He couldn't hide the surprise at hearing her name. Gin opened his eyes slightly, casting away the snake for just a moment and retrieving the man. Sakura didn't miss the regret. She also knew better than to say anything about it. Gin hid behind a smile—a sardonic, rather sadistic smile—and the previous power of his race, but there was a part of him, and she didn't know which part, that held on to something incredibly human. Something real and pure and sad. Something that haunted the eyes of men who had died—whether figuratively or, in Gin's case, literally—to one life and reemerged in another, only to find that everything had changed.

When he didn't respond, Sakura added, "I was only guessing. It was the name you said when you woke up after I found you."

Gin remembered now; he shrugged, "You've got a good memory." The fire finally took hold of the stick in his hand and began to crawl its way up the bark towards his fingers. "But Rangiku ain't th' answer to your first question—about th' hollows."

"Then what is?"

Gin finally surrendered the stick to the flames and tossed it into the gaping maw of hot teeth, "I'm gonna ask the hollow."

"You want to talk to it?"

"Hollows ain't the best conversation," he admitted, allowing a devious air to replace his formerly forlorn musings, "but they are inclined t' talk when they think they're gonna get what they want."

Sakura leaned back, suddenly overcome by the fire's heat, "You think it'll be able to provide some answers?"

"Well," he sighed, "guess we'll find out, won't we? At the very least, it'll provide th' winner of our bet."

"You aren't taking this very seriously, are you?"

Gin grinned and reclined against the forest floor, gazing up as the smoke from the fire as it twirled above him, weaving through the line of stars in the sky. "Lookin' back on it, it's prob'ly why I died th' first time."

Gin reached out, but his hand was lost in the darkness.

Why was it always dark?

He felt like he was floating in a bubble, surrounded by the pressure of encircling rapids. The air was thick and hot, yet he felt suspended in the air—trapped in the air, really—as if once the bubble broke, he would spend the rest of his days falling in an eternal shadow.

"You have forgotten how to listen…" a deep and disappointed voice rang out, giving the void a presence. "You have forgotten how to see…"

Though he searched, there was only the endless night to greet him. A night blacker than the universe without the moon. Blacker than the nights of Hueco Mundo. Blacker than the rotten souls of the hollows who had served him. He didn't even know if it was night. Only that it was like a prison for the night itself—a box that now contained all of the darkest nights that had graced the world since the beginning of time.

"What is this place?"

"Your soul."

Gin's smile held no mirth. It was as void of energy as the air around him. "I have no soul."

"You have forgotten…"

"I've forgotten nothing." Irritation began to crack his carefully forged expression. "Who are you?"

"You cannot ask that question until you have answered it for yourself."

Before Gin could respond, something bright erupted out of the corner of his eye, temporarily blinding him. He covered his eyes with his arm, cringing as the light seared him.

"GIN!"

The name seemed to awaken something different within him as it echoed through his conscience. Something old. Names, after all, had power in some form. They granted an identity—they gave life to the soul.

"Gin, wake up!"

Gin opened his eyes at the sound of Sakura's panicked voice. What had sounded during his dream like a megaphone in his ear was actually a frantic whispering. "Gin, it's here. I heard it."

"Damn, I thought someone was dyin' or somethin'."

Sakura struck him on the head with her hand. "You idiot! We're going to be dead if you don't do something about it."

"Calm down," he sighed, tenderly rubbing the spot where she had hit him. "I don't hear anythin'."

"That's because it has stopped moving. It's probably watching us."

Gin could feel the presence of the hollow, but he couldn't pinpoint its location. His sensitivity to chakra was still low and Gin assumed that, being in this world, the hollow was somehow existing on something negative—some kind of chakra that was still foreign to him. He glanced at Sakura, wondering how she had sensed it before he had, and then closed his eyes, turning his focus towards his surroundings.

"Can ya feel what direction?"

"I've been trying, but it seems to be everywhere. Its chakra is like a cloud or particles in the air—just floating there. I don't understand."

"Well, how 'bout you bait it out?"

"Me?" She hissed, "Are you nuts?"

"If you move, it'll be more inclined t' act. Once it starts moving, I'll know how to kill it."

He needed to hear its voice, to get it to betray its location without realizing that it had done so. Movement, though the hollow itself was invisible, would grant him a better visual. And, in truth, Gin needed that visual to formulate a plan. He had been able to judge the hollow's attacks the previous evening based on the way it had attacked Sakura. Judging by the height it had held her above the ground and the parts of the trees that it nudged when it moved, Gin had a working idea of its physical characteristics.

The fire suddenly died, sucking the last warmth from the air. The despair of the hollow took hold, settling in the air, on the trees, in their hearts. That anguish was the reason they couldn't locate it—the reason that they couldn't sense the source of the chakra.

Gin tensed in preparation. "Go, Sakura. I have an idea."

Sakura gritted her teeth, wanting to argue but knowing it wasn't the right time. If she wanted to kill it—to spare the lives of the villagers—she was going to have to trust Gin. They were going to have to work together.

She nodded, "Alright. I'm counting on you."

After a deep breath, Sakura jumped up and summoned all the energy she could muster. The pain of her wounds caused her to hesitate, but after one last glance at the faint glow of the fire's final sparks, her determination took control. It's a bad omen to let a fire die, she thought, remembering the Will of Fire.

Sakura trusted her instincts when she hopped onto the nearest tree branch, using her chakra to grip onto the wood. She glanced around, waiting, straining her ears for the slightest footstep, the slightest call for her soul.

It was like listening to the ticking of a clock that never reached the hour.

And then finally, she heard a footstep, heavy with sorrow and hungry for nourishment, some feet away from her position. She glanced once in Gin's direction, trying to see his face, but she could only make out the outline of his form in the dark.

"Your soul…"

This time, Sakura heard Gin withdraw Shinsou; she could hear the way he skillfully pulled the blade from its sheath without a moment's hesitation. And she knew, then, that he truly had no fear. He would face that monster before him without even flinching. Without once letting it affect him personally.

A whistle in the air was the only warning Gin received before the sole remaining arm of his opponent struck the place where he had been a split second earlier. He had lightly stepped out of way, propelling himself in to the air to create some distance between them. He didn't want to be quick on the draw; if he wanted to ask questions, he was going to need the hollow alive. Alive in a way that it would be too weak to escape, but not strong enough to put up a resistance.

"I want your soul."

"You don't want hers?" Gin asked, nodding in her direction, as he landed some meters away. "It's nicer. It heals things."

"I want the soul of a Shinigami."

"That so?" He shifted Shinsou's position, moving his feet in preparation to attack. "Hate t' disappoint you, but I ain't a Shinigami anymore."

Gin leapt forward to avoid another swing of the hollow's hand. He felt the breeze of movement just off to his left side and he used that moment to advance forward. Counting the paces in his head, Gin quickly did the math. Based on the flow of the air and the sound of the hollow's voice, he managed to deduce how far the arm could extend. It was large, he inferred, and relatively slow. But if it hit him, it was going to hurt.

He sensed a blow coming from above. At the last second and in a movement almost entirely blind to the naked eye, Gin moved Shinsou into a vertical position, allowing the tip to extend just past the height of his own head, and then stepped to the side, shifting the wakizashi to an angle. The blade immediately contacted the flesh of the hollow's arm, ripping through the skin almost effortlessly.

He hardly had to move his hand, allowing the force of his opponent's punch to do all the work.

The hollow howled, and Sakura cringed as the cries of rage were followed by the sound of an agonized thrashing in the trees.

"My arm! I will kill you! I will devour you whole!"

"How'd ya get here?" Gin pretended he hadn't even heard its threat, but he didn't relax his sword. "Did ya die in Hueco Mundo and somehow miss the bus t' hell?

The hollow struck out with the bleeding arm, ignoring Gin's question, but the blood was an easy indicator of its position. Gin dodged and thrust Shinsou forward, this time aiming for something more vital. He felt the blade sink into its prey and eat through the invisible skin.

"Though, if it makes ya feel any better, this ain't far from it." He withdrew the wakizashi, feeling the warm blood of his prey drip onto his fingers. "From hell, that is."

It was some moments before the hollow settled down from the pain of the newly acquired wound. Finally, it began to laugh. "I was dead, but he promised me new life. He told me to find you, to devour your soul, and from there I would be reborn."

"Who?"

Again, the hollow laughed and Gin heard it stand. He readied Shinsou for the next attack, crouching low.

"You are weak." It taunted. "There is no soul behind your sword."

"Who sent you here?" Gin asked again, suddenly impatient. "Th' next attack ain't goin' to just maim ya."

But the hollow wasn't listening. Or didn't care. Gin felt the trembling of the ground as it charged him; his hands tightened around the hilt of Shinsou in irritation. He apparently wasn't going to get any answers out of it. Not anything of value, anyway. That meant that there was only one thing left to do.

And just as he prepared to propel himself forward in the final strike, a shadow in the night suddenly fell upon his enemy, sending the beaten hollow crashing into the forest floor in a roar of energy.

Sakura flipped out of the debris and landed next to him. "Sorry," she said without any repentance, "but I wanted to get it back for last night."

Gin narrowed his eyes in amusement, "Didn't think ya could see it."

She scoffed, crossed her arms with an air of defiance, "With all that blood, any decent shinobi could pinpoint its location."

Sakura could already feel the air clearing from the hollow's formerly defiling presence. Gin had done most of the fighting and he had made it look simple, but she knew that in her current condition, a long battle would have been difficult. In the end, it hadn't answered any of their questions, but it had raised one or two more of her own.

She considered its last words.

The hollow could sense something, Sakura was certain, about Gin that put her on edge.

What did it mean? No soul behind his sword? Sakura wasn't sure that the hollow had been talking specifically of Shinsou. She got the impression that it went deeper than that. It went to the heart of Gin's Shinigami soul—the part of him that had faded.

After some moments of quiet contemplation, Sakura suddenly brightened. "I win."

"Huh?"

She held out her hand expectantly and cleared her throat. The moon could not highlight the verdant gleam shining in her eyes, but the look of satisfaction wasn't entirely lost to the dark. Gin almost groaned upon finally understanding her implications.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me."

"Nope. The hollow said it himself. It said, 'I want the soul of a Shinigami.'" She shook her hand, "Pay up."

Gin only clutched Shinsou tighter, "Ah, but he said th' soul of a Shinigami. I ain't a Shinigami."

"As I recall, it chose you. Even after you kindly offered it my soul."

She proceeded to count to ten, waiting for Gin to hold up his end of their bargain. Upon realizing that he had no intention of playing fair, Sakura decided that she would have to exude a bit more force. After finally reaching the number twenty in her head, she closed her fist and tightened the muscles in her arm. She looked at him sweetly, "Gin…"

The slits of his eyes narrowed considerably, until they were nothing more than lines on his face. "What now?"

Sakura's response came quickly in one well-aimed, well-timed, and well-imbued punch.

Several minutes later, when he finally regained some sense of his surroundings, Gin found himself staring up at the pointed tip of his own sword. Sakura stood above him, a triumphant smile plastered on her face.

"Soulless thief, you're actually a hollow, aren't you?"

"Next time you shake on something," Sakura said, ignoring his accusation, "I expect you to hold up your end of the deal."

And at that moment, Gin knew for sure that he did, in fact, hate women.