After deliberation, I've decided to post my slowly growing collection of GinRan one-shots. They're all from Gin's point of view, which is pretty hard to do because we don't really know how or what he thinks... but here is my take on it all.

I started writing this all as one lonnnnnng piece, then began to break it up into chunks. This was the first part, and, as of now (I have maybe 4-5 done) is my favorite.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach...but I wish I did.

Nothing ever changes here.

The moon is always a rounded crescent, the sand is always gray, and the walls are always white. It's always just as bleak as it was the day before. No wind ever shifts the sands—not naturally at least. No stars ever blink in the sky. The façade of Las Noches never changes. It reminds me too much of myself.

I hate this place.

I hate the silvery sand that crawls into my rooms through unseen cracks in the walls and windows. I hate the spiney, quartz-like trees that dot the landscape outside. I hate the labyrinth of hallways and tunnels that have me second guessing my path every time I leave my room.

I hate the petty power struggles that go on daily between the Espada, a mix of thinly veiled insults and outright disobedience. I hate that I no longer have the option of doing things on my own terms, as I always had before, even when we lived in that little hovel of a shack we called home.

Now, all my actions are monitored, all my choices must be carefully thought out. I hate that I can't leave and then come back whenever the feeling compels me. I hate my diminishing sense of presence. I hate the fact that I am beginning to question myself, something I never used to do—not when I attacked Hinamori, or destroyed the Central 46, or threatened any number of other shinigami.

But mostly, I hate the fact that you're not here.

You always had the ability to brighten up a room. You brightened our little shack more than I think you'll ever know. And you brightened me. You brought something into my life I wasn't sure even existed.

Before you came to live with me, before I'd found you collapsed on the street, I came and went as I pleased, and whether or not I would ever return to the shack was always up in the air. I had no reason to return to it if I didn't feel like. I would be gone for weeks at a time, wandering wherever I felt. But after you moved in with me, I had a reason to come back. I knew you'd be waiting for me.

You always were.

I admit, I reveled in the power I knew that I held over you with my comings and goings.

I knew it upset you when I was gone, and I could tell how happy you were when I returned. The look of surprise that would cross your face whenever I'd wander back into your life is one I still remember. Your eyes would shine and your mouth would open, a small 'O' of surprise, like you thought I'd never come back. Then your face would change and a magnificent smile would appear.

You never asked where I'd gone or where I was going. I'm sure you figured I wouldn't tell you.

I wouldn't have.

I think you didn't want me to have that power over you as well; my long excursions drove you mad, I know—but you didn't want me to think they did.

Every now and then I'd bring something back for you, flowers were a favorite of mine. Simple, virtually painless to get, and they made you smile. You'd run out to the little creek behind our shack and fill one of our few bowls with fresh water and arrange the blooms as best you could. You worked tirelessly to keep them alive, then hung them upside down to dry once they'd finally died. The walls of our shack slowly became decorated, covered with bunches of dried flowers, giving it a slightly more homey atmosphere. I wonder if you knew that sometimes, when I'd leave you behind, my sole purpose of leaving was to bring you back something pretty, something that would let me see that beautiful smile of yours.

That's one thing I still think you never figured out, Rangiku, and you've figured a lot of me out in the past centuries.

You learned to read my moods early on; you could tell through my ever-present smile and barely-open eyes whether I was content or upset. Every twitch of my eyes and muscles you saw, and then translated so masterfully—no one has been able to do that, no matter how hard they've tried.

You were much easier to read—every emotion played across your face and in your eyes. You could mask your emotions well enough when you wanted to, and you got better at is as we grew, but I think I could always tell. At first, I thought it was a weakness, ridiculous that you'd show everyone how you were feeling. Eventually, I realized that it was brave of you, and that it was something I loved about you.

You're lost to me now. I know this. I'm reminded of it daily when I listen vaguely to reports of what is going on in Soul Society. Every now and then your name is mentioned. I know you're in the real world now. I'm sure you're enjoying it—there's nothing you like better than torturing your captain and shopping.

I've thought about sneaking out of here, going to Karakura to see you, but I'd be willing to bet I'd be dead before I got within ten feet of you. Either Aizen would kill me for my disobedience or one of your comrades would. I don't think you'd kill me…

Not right away, at least.

You'd question me, try to demand answers, asking questions I'm not even sure I know the answer to. If you asked me why I followed Aizen, why I betrayed you and everyone in Seireitei, the only thing I think I'd be able to tell you is that it's just who I am.

Then again, you might not even ask, because you already know that about me.

Well...? Be kind... I'm still iffy about these.

Please, please review!

-Luin