A/N: Hej! This is basically me going on a massive praise-mission/nostalgia trip about Izuru Kira and Gin is the unfortunate mouthpiece.

I'm really not sorry :D

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"He knows, Aizen. He ain't stupid."

Aizen quirked a brow in amused curiosity, "What does he know, Gin?"

Gin faltered for a moment before answering,

"He knows we're all creepin' round in the shadows, up to no good. He certainly don't like you one bit, Sousuke."

"…Hm..." Aizen murmered, "interesting, I didn't think Izuru, of all people, would be one to guess…he doesn't trust you?" Gin shook his head,

"He don't trust me, but he likes me. I reckon that kid's got some warped sense of Stockholm syndrome goin' on."

Aizen's lips curled, "I can work with that. "

Gin leaned away from the desk in his high-backed chair; it was true Izuru didn't trust him, nor the charming , warm-eyed Aizen Taichou- not even Justice Taichou.

He'd always seemed unassuming, innocent, almost oblivious sometimes, but… he wasn't. He was cunning, perceptive and thankfully, unimposing. If Izuru actually acted on his suspicions, Aizen would have him skewered before you could even utter the first syllable of 'Hougyouku'.

It wasn't really a question of how he knew. It wasn't as though Aizen had gone all out to make sure no one was suspicious of them. Sure, most of the people who had known were now exiled or dead, but the way Gin viewed it; anyone with half a brain who had ever spent at least five minutes alone in the same room with the guy could probably sense that something was off.

Hinamori being the exception to this rule. Freaking starry-eyed halfwit. Admiration really was the furthest thing from understanding…

Izuru knowing their deception wasn't really an issue either, as Gin knew, Izuru didn't often act on his thoughts, he was far too meticulous and probably knew he would die if he tried.

That, and he was probably indifferent. Perhaps he wanted the Soul Society to end. Izuru was notoriously pessimistic.

Well… Gin would have assumed the latter, had it not been for a few days ago, when his blue-eyed lieutenant instigated his entire case in point within two hours of deliberately vague and cautious conversation.

The boy had been clutching at straws- and the captain felt reassured that at least his lieutenant was speaking theoretically- but they were all the right straws…

Izuru even knew some of the gravity to Gin's impending defection.

Being close friends with Rangiku, he had inevitably heard stories about their past- only in greater depth, in the darker realms, that any normal friend would never be granted access to. The blonde had joined puzzle pieces in his head and stumbled across Gin's reasons for being on the road of knives;

To get back what Aizen had taken from Rangiku.

How the blonde had found the part about Aizen was beyond him, even Rangiku didn't know that chapter. It went from simple mistrust to flat out accusation.

Correct accusation.

Eat your heart out Sherlock Holmes…

The captain figured: It was because of this knowledge, of Gin's goal, his vengeance, that Izuru did not act.

Gin was not acting for his own sake, it was for his friend, his almost-sister, and best of all, it meant Aizen would end up dead at the end. Tactically, Izuru's reasoning was sound.

The issue really, for Gin, was Aizen himself. If he said nothing, Aizen would inevitably discover, think he was too fond and shielding his lieutenant; which… was in his job description, but not under Aizen's employment. Such a connection would make him appear weak- and prove fatal.

Expendability would slip around the silver-haired captain's neck and eventually Gin's head would be rolling around the Seireitei's sewers. …Or used as a ball in Arrancar F.C, depending on when the bastard felt like killing him.

But now he'd told Aizen, Ichimaru surmised, Izuru was likely to end up in some shit.

Psychologically, and physically traumatizing shit.

And Gin was probably going to be the one inflicting it.

Yeah, that seemed like Aizen's style- indirectly destroying everything his underlings had ever loved, thus leaving them alone and chained like dogs, with nowhere else to lay their allegiance.

And he did care about Izuru, he did. Izuru was nice in every-sense of the word. Easy to befriend, despite being shy- he always had had a vast array of friends scattered throughout Soul Society.

Good looking? Undeniably so. Well… If blond, blue-eyed and bony was on your agenda, then yes.

Gin loved robbing him of hair ties, silken gold strands falling delicately about his face; beautiful tones of peach and flame setting his skin aglow with the evening sunset, a discreetly mischievous smile playing on his features and a glimmer in his eyes, a slight blush from the sake Gin kept resupplying and ordering Kira to drink. Yes… evenings with Izuru were his favourite.

Peaceful, refreshing, thoughtful and thoughtless.

And there was that whole puzzle Izuru had earlier sorted through; at which, Gin was still astonished. His intellect was fairly terrifying. And although some would say excessively emotional, Gin would just say honest.

Kira knew war was not a wondrous thing. He knew despair, and Gin knew - was probably the only other person to realise- that Izuru wasn't the meek little lop-hare he often pretended to be. He was more than capable of slaughter. He was capable of complete annihilation.

And still the kid was respectful- preferred to listen rather than force his opinions and 'manliness' upon others, unlike the beasts that deemed to call themselves Squad 11. 'Squad' was an insult to the rest of the Gotei.

Izuru's day was never more important to him than another's, and Gin found it refreshing.

Of course, some of those qualities were corrupted temporarily by alcohol, but that was only natural, the silver-haired captain supposed.

Besides, as a perk, Izuru would abandon some of his reservedness, and one would be introduced to the new, passionate, open side of Izuru.

Gin liked getting to know about his lieutenant, but the squad was ultimately better off when Izuru had a clear head- after all, there was no way Gin was doing the paperwork.

Aizen wanted him to gain his trust.

Trust was supposedly one of the key features in Aizen's plan; they trust you, you trust no one.

Unfortunately, sun-blessed summer evenings on the office balcony, spent opening up and earning said trust were probably not on the megalomaniac's agenda. More like blood-drenched nights in a dark room with his self-respect sinking- in addition to Izuru's blood pressure…

If not trust, then submission.

"Gin," Aizen said suddenly, withdrawing the captain from his thoughts. "I've a plan."

Ichimaru mock-groaned, earning another arched eye-brow; "Maaa, another one? We have enough plans to feed a Menos Grande." He whined, stretching and leaning back on his chair once again.

Aizen stamped on one of the chair struts, flinging Gin forward sharply and with such force, his face connected with the desk in front.

"Well then, we'd better put it to action before a Menos comes to feast…"

Aizen smirked.

Gin could read between the lines.