Had they won the battle?
Gin wouldn't confess as much. It appeared more of a draw soaked in blood that tilted in their, his favor. Even after the arrival of the Vizards—of whom he remembered little since, for him, that particular portion of the night wasn't nearly as fun as the whole sneaking from and back into Seireitei was—neither side appeared willing to give in. The shinigami maintained the most damage, which hoisted another winning flag in Aizen's court. Las Noches had almost been destroyed in a vicious rage by the ryoka boy, Kurosaki Ichigo, and Kenpachi, who apparently had grown immaculately bored. In the end Aizen's mood was pleasant enough to allow all of his would be prisoners' freedom (he had the barrier trapping them in Hueco Mundo released) with one exception: the girl, Inoue. She stayed. Momentarily she would recover the scattered Ulquiorra, and heal the fatal wounds on Grimmjow and Halibel. Then Nelliel Tu, who inevitably would have her memories returned and her station as Espada again, considering how she still felt towards Ichigo.
It was all part of the game, clearly, and Gin watched the wicked mirth boil behind his captain's eyes and smile.
The winning piece, however, had cost Gin his own personal victory.
Aizen had Rangiku.
Where, the silver-haired fox of a man didn't know, and damn the nickname twice over as it brought no useful qualities that could help Gin find her.
He had gotten second place, and Rangiku had lost. Not completely, but being away from her home would surely concentrate a powerful blow.
Was his mind set on freeing the woman once found? No.
Gin stared at Aizen as he watched the proceeding recovery of Grimmjow on the Hueco Mundo sands.
At least, not in the casual sense.