Man, I hate writing endings. They're so horribly hard. Ah well. Almost there! I also have a day off tomorrow! So hopefully I'll get both drabbles written up, because Friday I go to school all day, then I work at night. Ugh. Gonna be a rough night. Also! If anyone wants to continue chatting with me after this story, my e-mail is dragen(underscore)eyez(at)hotmail(dot)com, just replace anything in ()s with the corresponding symbol, so (dot) would be . Otherwise, my e-mail is listed on my profile page if you're logged in; it's also my msn account. You guys have been spectacularly awesome to talk to.
Thanks to: Solar Kitty, katiegirl101199, Sakana-san, Blueberry Absinth, Stebbins -Stella-, blackteaplease, Ayamichan34, Beautiful Nightmare07, undauntedheiress, capslocknanao, LilyGirl101, PunkRockHolly, AppleDoodle, and Sonozaki-sama.
99. Game
Gin stared at the ceiling; he had done a lot of that lately. He would rather have paced, but the room was too small, and Unohana had ordered him to rest. She kept checking on him, and even he knew to be a little afraid of her.
Still, Gin was glad he was still tired from being injured; otherwise, being locked in a cell would have been unbearable. He simply got bored too easily when he could not stimulate his mind. He might be stuck in the room for a long time, or only a few more hours. If the latter, Gin supposed he would go to the penitence tower before being killed. The calmness Gin thought about that with led him to wonder if Unohana had given him sedatives. He supposed that had been a good idea; he had made his own trial even more interesting by passing out sometime near the end. His wounds were slow to heal with his reiatsu sealed.
Yama-jii approached his cell with a few other noble representatives from the trial. "We have reached a verdict, Ichimaru Gin. You are guilty of crimes against seireitei."
Gin's heart could not help but tighten in a rough spasm.
"However, your actions in aid of seireitei in the end have redeemed some of those crimes. You are to be sentenced to five years of imprisonment," Yama-jii said.
Gin's heart released. "Ain't ya killin' me?"
Yama-jii shook his head. "No, fool that you are, perhaps this confinement will benefit you. Now, you will be escorted to a more permanent cell."
Several weeks later, Gin sat staring out of a small window. He alternated between doing that and pacing, for the most part. He had a pile of finished books and novels strewn about, nothing really occupied him for long.
A week into his sentence, he had been moved to a new cell for no reason, but after that, Gin had a view of a street. He wondered if it was just his imagination that he had seen a flash of orange hair that day.
Since the trial, he had not seen Rangiku at all, but he was not surprised. Right now, he was not even sure if he wanted to see her. The way he had lived his life, well, if he were her, he would not want to be anywhere near him. Gin had toyed with everyone around him and relished in causing as much mischief as he could. Then he had followed Aizen in search of power, or was it just something new to do? The things that had annoyed him about his life before he left seireitei just seemed trivial now.
Maybe paperwork was still as boring as he remembered it, but even so, he had bullied Izuru into doing most of it. Even so, his lieutenant had defended him. Izuru had come by twice a week, always bringing a puzzle or a novel. Izuru was one hell of a kid. Gin wondered if he ought to try finding Izuru a nice girl. With five years, he thought he could do it, even if he was locked up. Next time Izuru came—two days—Gin would have to see if Izuru fancied anyone.
Life was not the game Gin had always thought it was. Gin had played and cheated that game, going around in circles with it. It ended up with him being jailed and Rangiku hurt, because of him.
Gin turned away from the window with a sigh and leaned against the cold stones. He could only watch shinigami for so long. He missed wandering the streets at random, meandering the residential sections of seireitei and rukongai. Still, it was far better than the wall he had seen before, infinitely better. He was a people watcher, after all.
Footsteps fell against the stones in a soft click. Gin watched the hall intently. A flash of strawberry blond hit the light. His eyes widened; there was only one shinigami in all of seireitei with hair that color.
Are you a neat freak or super messy? My desk is like a war zone, yet my drawers and closet and bookcase is perfectly organized. So I guess I'm weirdly both. Sunshine or rain? I like the rain, especially thunderstorms.
