Miyuki had been working as a servant in Seireitei before its downfall. She remembered Kuchiki Byakuya back when he was still the captain of the sixth division, remembered his elegance, his unspeakably noble demeanor, and felt pity in the bottom of her heart seeing him now.

His black hair had been cut roughly, as if with a blunt knife, the angles crooked. His kenseikan had long since been shattered. Wounds marred his too thin body, some fresh and weeping, others old and scared over. Blood stained the ragged excuse for clothing he wore.

Yet still...he radiated a light, a gentle air, as if he'd never been captured and tortured. It pleased her to see his spirit wasn't as broken as it appeared to be.

"Byakuya-sama," she whispered, kneeling beside him. He was leaning against the stone wall of his cell, his face turned away from her. She sat a bowl of warm water and a white cloth down beside his feet.

"Gin-dono requested I clean your wounds before you are bathed; will you let me?"

Byakuya closed his eyes and nodded softly.

"Thank you," she whispered. Dipping the cloth into the water, she patted the first of his injuries - a nasty looking burn on his shin - until the dirt and dried blood was gone. It still looked angry and infected, though, and this worried her.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, trying to be as careful as possible.

"Not as much as other things."

His voice was deep and mellow, and it warmed her heart to hear it, as much as his words sadden her. She bent silently to her task after that, intent on cleaning his wounds as well as she could.

It felt like it took hours, his body was so damaged, and she could feel the gratitude radiating out of the former captains body with each wound she cleansed. How horrible it must have been to have to sit, day in day out, with dried blood and body fluids caked to your being. She couldn't imagine the strength of person that would take, to handle such abuse and still retain as much dignity as he did.

"A gift," she murmured quietly, pressing a small vial of antibiotic ointment into his hand. "I hope someday you will be free of this place."

Byakuya's hand tightened around the object, his eyes sliding shut. "I thank you."

For the treatment of his wounds, or for the tender care, Miyuki wasn't sure. Bowing as deeply as possible, she turned and left, knowing in her heart she'd see him again.

They came for him sometime later. The guard was anything but gentle when he forced Byakuya to his feet, instructing him to strip. The indignity of being nude failed to affect him; it wouldn't be the first time he'd been marched through the prison naked.

The hand that came down on his shoulder was calloused and he flinched at the strength of it. He was shoved forward roughly, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone as he was marched out of his cell and up three floors. The room that had usually been for interrogation had been cleared of its rack and long table, a large wooden tub filled with hot steaming water the only visible occupant.

"Bathe." the guard ordered.

A small stool with a bar of soap and a fresh cloth stood beside the tub, and Byakuya grabbed them as he sank into the water. He would have liked to sit and soak, to let his worn muscles relax, but this was just another form of torture. Whatever followed this, it wouldn't be pleasant.

Ignoring the sting as he lathered his body with soap, he set about scrubbing himself clean.

Standing in a dark corner of the room, arms crossed across his chest, Gin watched the younger man wash. Something akin to pity sat in his stomach for marking that beautiful ivory skin.

If only he would tell us about the whereabouts of his friends, he could stop the pain so much sooner, he thought to himself, using his arms to push himself away from the wall and walked out into the light. "Leave us," he told the guard, startling both of the men in the room.

Byakuya felt the water around him swish with the force of his turn.

His blood ran cold when Gin stepped from the shadows; the sight of the man almost made him physically ill, so strong was his hatred.

The guard quickly bowed and left, leaving the two alone.

"Well now, ya actually DO look human," Gin said with a smirk, walking closer until he stopped in front of the tub. He reached out to touch a jagged cut of Byakuya's hair. "We really should do something about this too. Whoever cut it really should have taken better care..."

Byakuya jerked his head away from Gin's touch.

Gin grabbed his chin before he could get far, holding it firmly. "Try to be a little nicer, okay? If Aizen was here, he'd just let ya go naked and dirty, using the mud for clothes. Ya want that instead of me here?"

I'd prefer death, he wanted to say, but kept his mouth closed. He forced himself to meet Gin's eyes, and bit back the voice begging to tear from his throat.

I couldn't hate anyone, as much as I hate you.

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want, Byakuya-kun," Gin said, his voice serious now. "I've only been askin' for the past fifty years ya know."

"And I've told you, I don't know the location of the remaining Gotei 13."

He swallowed thickly. "Even if I did I wouldn't tell you."

"Oh, and why's that?" Gin asked, irritation in his voice. Aizen was getting pissed. He wanted that information and he wanted it fifty years ago.

Because there are people worth protecting.

"Rangiku would be sad, if she could see you now."

Gin's eyes snapped opened at that, anger filling him. "What... did you say?" he hissed, glaring dangerously at the other man. His accent seemed to disappear. "Repeat that, Byakuya."

Byakuya kept his face even and empty; he knew the barb would hit a nerve, but he never imagined it would hit so deeply.

"I SAID REPEAT IT KUCHIKI!" Gin grabbed Byakuya's hair and shoved his head under the water, holding him down.

The attack was sudden, and Byakuya fought despite himself. He'd trained himself to take what they did to him with indifference. He'd had his legs broken, his stomach pumped full of water until he retched, his body cut with scalding hot knives, his joints popped out of socket and back again. And through it all he'd never whimpered, never given them a sign that he was in pain. There was just something about Gin that made him loose his composure - there had always been, even back before Aizen and the Arrancar.

Arming flailing, he caught Gin in the chin with a fist.

Gin received the hit dead on, his hand releasing his hair on impact and falling backward on the floor. He looked up in a daze, trying to say conscious. "Fuck..." he groaned, moving his jaw slightly and wincing. Damn, but that man could punch...

Byakuya came up gasping for air, hauling himself over the side of the tub. His chest heaving, his eyes searched frantically for Gin, wanting to know where the next attack might be coming from.

Finally coming to a little bit, Gin slowly sat up, a hand coming to his chin. "Shit, that's going to leave a bruise," he said out loud, mostly to himself.

It was so...common place. Such an offhand remark, that the bark of laughter that escaped his throat almost didn't shock him.

That sounds like something Renji would have said.

Gin raised an eyebrow, haven't heard something like that come from the Kuchiki in forever. "Well, sorry if I kind of care about my looks..." he muttered, standing up.

Must have been my adrenaline, he thought, disgusted with himself for having shown anything but apathy to the other man.

The thought sobered Byakuya quickly.

Gin watched the other's face go blank and silent again before walking closer, eyes dangerous once more. "If you ever speak that name around me again... I'll make sure your arms can't flail next time, got it?" Just the whisper of that name, it cut so deeply.

I'm sorry Rangiku…

"Why?" Byakuya whispered, finally willing to admit for a brief moment how confused he felt.

"Why keep me around if I don't know anything; why not just kill me?"

Gin frowned slightly at that. Aizen had given him permission to kill Kuchiki if he no longer served his purpose. Why did he still keep him?

Perplexed at this question, instead of answering, he turned around. "Dry off and get dressed."

Byakuya emerged from the water, feeling the cool air wrap around his naked, wet torso and shivered. His eyes skimmed the room, looking for a towel, or a set of clothes. He found none.

When Gin didn't hear the rustle of clothes, he scowled slightly. "What the hell are ya waiting for? An invitation?"

"An invitation for what?"

"TO GET DRESSED, YOU BLOODY IDIOT." Gin growled, not liking how his body was reacting.

"In what?"

Gin muttered something about killing the guard next time he saw him before turning around and walking over to him. "HERE." Next thing Byakuya knew, Gin's Arrancar robe was seen being flipped off and put on his shoulder.

Byakuya didn't like the casual nature in which Gin placed the garment around him; it smelled like him, too. He didn't want the other man, let alone his scent, anywhere near him.

He felt like shrugging it off, but decided against it. He'd already pushed his luck once tonight; he definitely didn't want to push it again, if not for his own sake, then for Rukia's.

Putting his arms through the sleeves and clutching it closed in the front, he gave Gin an empty, even stare, as if to ask, Well, where to next?

Gin, his eyes closed again, hiding any emotion he was probably feeling, turned and started heading out the door. "Follow."

It wasn't a request.