Author's Note: Oh boy...here's the second chapter. Poor, poor Gin...I haven't really much to say here. Actually, I don't have anything particularly important to say at all. So, just...read it. Try to enjoy it as best you can. I am aware of my trouble writing AiGin. I'm just not twisted enough. So...wish me luck. I'm horrible at this. Feedback is appreciated. Okay, I'll let you go now.

Perspective: Gin's

Chapter II: Broken

Broken

reduced to fragments; fragmented; ruptured; torn; fractured

When I woke up, I found myself in Aizen-sama's bed. The first thing that came to mind was how soft his bedsheets were. Never had I found the time to truly appreciate his silken blankets so I reveled in them momentarily for effect. The second thought that came to mind was how I got here. It came in the form of a question. I only vaguely remembered Aizen-sama carrying me.

"Aizen-sama..." I managed as I exhaled. I couldn't find the strength to open my eyes more than a fraction so I hadn't the strength to sit up. I found him to be beside me.

He turned to me, asking, "What's wrong?" His glasses were on, I noticed. It must have been morning, then. Oh, there was sunlight behind him, too. It must have been day. I didn't answer him. I didn't have the strength to beckon him closer with even my finger nor the strength to tell him to come. Instead, I lay on the bed in silence. He got the message and neared me. "Is something wrong?" he asked me. I didn't shake my head but I didn't nod, either. "That's a 'yes', I take it."

Aizen-sama knew me. I didn't have to say "yes".

He frowned, leaning over me. Slowly, he lowered himself, pressing his forehead to mine. "You're feverish." he stated. The still-visible frown on his face told me that he was displeased. "I'll get you medicine. Stay put, Gin." Where did he think I would go? More precisely, I couldn't go anywhere —I barely had the energy to speak.

I didn't ask, though. I couldn't. He stood up, straightened his haori, and left the room. I could hear him rummaging around the kitchen. It was where the medicine cabinet was, too.

It had been about five minutes (or, it felt like five minutes) before he came back with a container of pills in his hand. He gave me two.

I looked blankly at them then to him. He hadn't brought water. Did he expect me to swallow the pills dry? Of course, that did sound like Aizen-sama. Still, though...it was more a matter of practicality. He seemed to notice the blank look in my eyes.

"Right, water..." he muttered, standing up and heading back into the kitchen. It was strange of Aizen-sama to forget things—anything, really. I managed a small, amused smile. Only the walls of Aizen-sama's room saw that smile of mine. Aizen-sama...

You treat me so well...I am so thankful. The thought crossed my mind before I felt my cheeks tingle. When was the last time that I had blushed this deep of a red? I could feel the heat rise up into my face.

I heart Aizen-sama's voice returning into the room. He set the glass of water next to me. I picked it up with the little energy I had and then took two pills from his open hands. I popped the pills into my mouth and then took a quick sip of the water.

"You look feverish, Gin." Aizen-sama pointed out. Oh, that was right—my face was still red. The heat had receded none. If anything, it had increased ten-fold.

He leaned forward, pressing the palm of his hand to my forehead. After holding it there for several seconds, he removed his hand. "You are feverish, aren't you, Gin?" It was a rhetorical question. He sighed, shaking his head wearily at me.

I didn't answer. I just nuzzled deeper into his pillow.

"Get some rest," he commanded lightly, "I'll stay with you. I'll get the third and fourth seat to take care of our paperwork."

I knew that I must have been feverish, then—that, or the medicine was beginning to kick in and make me drowsy. Aizen-sama never cared about me. Why would he start now? Oh well, it didn't matter. What mattered was that I needed sleep.

When I woke up, I was more than surprised to find Aizen-sama still beside me. I had enough energy sit up, this time. I was thankful for that much. I was just opening my mouth to speak, too, when I noticed that Aizen-sama was, quite obviously, asleep. How long had I slept? How long had he stayed here beside me?

I looked at him, my eyes tracing the contour of his figure as I looked him upand down. His rich, brown hair was slightly tousled in his slumber and his eyes that were normally open, sharp, and alert were now closed. His glasses were taken off and folded in his lap. I could hear his gentle breathing cutting through the silence in the room. It was soothing.

You're so vulnerable, right now, Aizen-sama. I thought to myself, If I truly wished to, I think I could prob'ly kill y'right here 'n now... I cut the thought short. Soon enough, Aizen-sama stirred.

"You can't kill me, Gin." Of course, I had to expect that from him.

"I know, taichou." I replied, falling back to the comfort of his futon again. It was, really, much softer than mine.

He frowned, slipping on his glasses. "Aizen-sama, Gin." he corrected sharply. I could hear the distaste in his name. "Don't call me 'taichou'. It is merely a formality. When it is just the two of us, I am Aizen—Aizen-sama, to you—and you are Gin."

I nodded as vaguely as I could from my lying position. "I know, Aizen-sama. Sorry, it jus' slipped out."

He shrugged but said nothing.

I hated these moments—these moments where nothing could be heard. Aizen-sama was brooding during these moments and, as for me, I was left to wonder what he was thinking about. I couldn't tell the difference between when he thought serious thoughts and when he thought trivial thoughts. Of course, Aizen-sama was like that.

The silence didn't leave us. If anything at all, it only pervaded and then spread like an infectious disease. I was choking on that infectious disease—choking on the silence. It was suffocating. I hated not being able to speak.

It could have been seconds or minutes or even hours that we had sat there, speechless. I couldn't tell, now. Time had either slowed to a halt or nothing had changed in the past...however long it had been. I went for the latter. I couldn't focus, though. My mind didn't feel as sharp as it usually did. How frustrating this was.

"Gin," I could hear Aizen-sama speaking. His voice was so completely and utterly enthralling. I nearly purred happily. He was speaking to me—he had said my name, even.

"Yes?" I asked softly. I was honestly, truly, and earnestly hoping for something good—good news, perhaps.

He shook his head, then, his brown hair swaying from side-to-side with the movement of his head. "Never mind, Gin." He inhaled here and exhaled again in a sigh, repeating, "Never mind." This annoyed me. I hated it when he wasn't being himself. I hated it when he was beating around the bush. I hated it when he hid things from me.

"Tell," I pressed forcefully. I noticed that I had gotten up into a sitting position rather than lying flat on my back. "Tell me." He didn't answer me, though. What was with him? This wasn't like him at all—Aizen-sama was never unsure of himself; ever. It was one of his traits that both unnerved me and reassured me. "Aizen-sama!" I growled, jumping to my feet and grabbing him by his haori. He still did nothing.

Before I could react, though, he grabbed my throat and violently shoved me up against the wall. I gagged, choking. He still didn't say a word, though. He just stood there, his eyes dark with rage. He was motionless, but I could feel the his heavy reiatsu weighing down on me—smothering me—and I began to tremble. After a few seconds, I was rapidly losing breath and I began to tear recklessly at the hand holding me up by my throat.

We remained like that for a few more second before he released me. I dropped to the ground immediately, gasping and coughing as I tried to fill my lungs with air again. That was so stupid of me. I really needed to learn my place—especially with him. He rarely made exceptions to his rules when he was truly being "himself"—no one was to challenge his authority—even for me. That was a foolish move, on my behalf.

I would have apologized, too, had I not known it would have only enraged him more. I wasn't exactly suicidal, now. I simply lay there, quaking. His reiatsu had thinned out none and it was still unbearably suffocating. I had to remember what he was capable of. Whatever had been oon his mind, it must have been important and significant. I shouldn't have bothered him about it. When would I learn? Even I, being his vice captain, was no exception to his wrath.

His reiatsu was choking me. I could barely sustain my breathing, now. I wondered briefly why he never allowed even this much—for I knew that it wasn't the entirety of his reiatsu—be released in front of others (aside from Tousen, of course). It only was showed to me and Tousen—his "minions". That was right. We were never his equals—never to be. I could never forget that—ever. I needed to remember this. I was so...stupid.

He released me from the strain of his reiatsu shortly. I could breathe again. Once again, like earlier, I was gasping and wheezing—trying my hardest to inhale. He spared me no second glance and, instead, said, "Get up, Gin. This is pathetic." I hesitated—but only for a moment—before scrambling to my feet obediently. I hated it, sometimes, when Aizen-sama was like that—well, when he was like to me. I didn't like his false kindness, either, though. I liked him when he was contented but not being fake. Strange, huh?

Then, he turned around and looked at me. I could see the sharp glare in his brown eyes—no longer warm and soft as they had been earlier; truly warm and soft. I missed that look, in moments like these. He just looked at me—staring relentlessly. It frightened me—it was a look of impending doom. I shivered quietly, feeling every hair on my body bristle under his gaze.

He interrupted quickly—shocking me even more awake than I thought possible. "Your wound," he barked sharply, "the one on your thigh—it's gone, now." I didn't look down to see that it was really gone. I could already feel that it was gone as I brushed my two legs against one another—I could no longer feel the roughness of where the scab had been and it didn't sting. I didn't thank him, though. He wouldn't have liked that. Without anything to do, I just stood there—silently.

Aizen-sama offered me a vague, wry smirk before turning and exiting the room without explanation or even a goodbye. I held back a sigh of relief.

I lay back down on his futon, curling up around the sheets I had pulled over me. I needed to sleep again.

I noted that he hadn't asked me why I had hurt myself. I realized, then, that he didn't need to know. For once, I would have a secret—a secret of why I was as broken as I was because he already knew how broken I was.

Author's Note: For the most part, this was difficult to write—for me, anyway. Of course...Gin isn't the easiest character to write, is he? No, he isn't. Aizen isn't exactly easy, either. I love them very much, though. They're such interesting fellas—very complicated ones, too. I wonder why Aizen was so mad, though. Poor, poor Gin... Well, until next time—see you all then! Thank you for reading! :)