Ichimaru continues deliberating with himself over whether to bring one Iori Junko or not. He wants to, yes, but he's not sure if he should. There's a good chance she'll just get killed there. But, a more sadistic part of his deliberation processes notes, if she's just going to get killed over there, then she's just too weak to be useful. He switches to another side, sitting at his desk and toying with the corner of a piece of paper as he does, and even his arguments supporting taking her are bleak and depressing. She's just going to die anyway in the war, it says. She's just a shinigami here, and one that slept with a soon-to-be-traitor. If she doesn't die by a hollow, then a shinigami'll stab her in the back. If she's in Hueco Mundo, she'll still have to fight, but you can watch her from there.

"This is all too complicated." He mutters to himself, allowing a small frown to cross his face before it is replaced by his trademark huge smile again. Best to keep up appearances. "I didn't have to worry about this with Rangiku. I know she'll be fine, at least." It's what he's telling himself, but the truth is a bit more complicated than that, of course. Matsumoto, he cares about her very greatly but she's not only his. She's got friends and things, she has a life. Junko is all his, and only his. Nobody else is ever allowed to have her because Junko is a toy that he's had from the first day he laid eyes on her. Centuries of training and obedience on her part, centuries of teaching on his. That's how he sees it, anyway; she doesn't even belong to herself because she lives for only him. And he knows that she would probably agree with him if she were here.

He glances out the window and knows that his time to choose is running thin. Aizen has already faked his death, and it's a mere two days from Rukia's execution. If he's ever going to do anything, he'd better do it quick.

Now, she's getting annoyed.

Junko Iori leans against the bar, drink in her hand, as she tries to ignore a very rambunctious shinigami now trying to get in her pants. He's getting her drink after drink, and she's starting to get bored with him buzzing around her to the ambiance of loud laughter and the occasional cheer from the other bar patrons. Sure, she may be a little ditzy and kind of stupid, but she's not so stupid that she can't see what he's attempting to do. She's not that drunk, either. She doesn't answer the millionth question about herself and out of the corner of her eye, spots him slip something into this new drink he's bought her. So he's done trying it the legal way, eh?

Without so much as a blink, she takes the drink and dumps it on him. A small piece of white paper comes out and she wipes the spill with it, before watching the little piece of paper turn blue. Fourth Company is marvelous for drug detection kits.

"Not an idiot. GHB?" Junko shows him the slip of blue-colored paper, and he knows he's lost now. He lunges to try and hit her or grab her or something like that; she's been expecting it for a minute now, and jerks her zanpakutou sheathe out as she turns to face him, and the way he howls and places his hands means she probably hit him in the eyes.

"Tired. I'm heading out." She says it to nobody in particular while paying her bill, before heading towards home. Something's wrong in these last few days, something other than the Ryoka or what happened with Captain Aizen. An ominous sort of feeling creeps over her as she heads to her small barrack room, quiet as to not wake anybody up, it being close to one in the morning now. As soon as she opens the door, she knows why. Her hand on the door instantly falls, and she notes that he's helping himself to her tea. The good, expensive tea.

"'Yer out a bit late, neh?"

Oh, he set out a glass for her too. How nice of him.

"Killing time."

She closes the door and offhandedly locks it behind her.

The sweat on her skin is cooling in the night air as he's getting dressed again. It's Fourth Company, he can't stay till morning. People would think. People would wonder. And if he so chooses to leave her here, then people thinking and wondering and accusing would be bad news indeed. He's pulling on his shihakusho and pondering about whether to take her or not, again, just like he has a million other times. Not that it's really all too catastrophic if he doesn't and she dies; he's just lost a very good toy, nothing incredibly important. And losing a good toy is something he really doesn't want to have happen, because it's his and he doesn't want somebody else playing with it when he's gone. Not that he thinks she'd even let anybody else near her after him.

For anything else, I'll sure miss the sex. He's pulling on his Captain's coat as she sleeps and bleeds a little. She's going to be sore in the morning and she's going to tell him it's all his fault when they're in private, and he's going to laugh and shrug and say 'but you like it when I make you sore' or something cheeky like that, and she's going to huff and pretend to be mad when she walks away, and he's going to see her attempting to restrain a smile as she goes. It always happens the same.

Gin glances up at the moon as he leaves silently, and he wonders if Junko likes the night.