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"Hey, Hiyori! Yar a real cut up! Jus' gettin' a good slice of life! Hate ta split on ya!"
“All the bifurcation humour in the world and ya chose the unfunniest lines! Tch! Guess ya only look like a joker but ya can’t make jokes. I reckon I’d be in tears if my enemy couldn’t stay down after being cut in half. How are ya copin’? Must be pretty okay since yer addressing my name so casually!”
Did Gin forget a birthday? How terrible. He can fix that. Gonna give Hiyori a cute doll. Look, it even has little blond hair tied like hers. Awwww. And Gin even cut it in half for her. See, he can be so thoughtful.
"WHAT THE FUCKIN' HELLL?" She roared, stomping about with the head half of the creepy doll someone has managed to give her.
Except that she knows exactly who that someone is. For she can sense that slimy ass reiatsu anywhere and she knows it belongs to Gin. That creepy ass former damn third seat-- how dare he look down on her cuz he grew a lil tall?!
"I'll fuckin' break his nails and flay his damn fox-face with them!!"
While he understood how the vizards would be more trusted than he was, Gin still found it amusing they'd asked Hiyori to guard him that day. Both had once been viewed as traitors, both twisted and broken by Aizen. And yet, it was there the similarities stopped. "Any plans for the day?" Gin might make requests of some of his guards, but this one didn't seem the type to take it well. Yet.
Another stupid little job courtesy of Kisuke. For some reason, he always found the most idiotic of tasks for the small vizard. And for an odder reason still, Hiyori accepted them. This was how she found herself on guard duty for none other than Aizen’s side piece, Ichimaru Gin. She does not really hate him that much- not as much as Aizen anyway- but she didn’t particularly like him either. From the time he had been a smarmy little third seat back in the day.
Familiar scowl in place, she turns back to him and squints. “Are ya serious? Yer a prisoner here. What? Want me ‘ta send a lil love letter ‘ta someone? I’ll read it 100% y’know.”
"Aaaah, my my. It's been quite awhile. Lookin' pretty good. Ya seem a lil' taller since I've last seen ya."
"Didn't you die?"
She was certain that had been the rumour-- but then again, if she has come back from bifurcation then it stood to reason Gin could've slipped out too.
"Fuck off! I am taller. and stronger than ya!"
Just smiles<3
"Fuckin' creep. Where did ya crawl outta?"
🍻+ “ who are you, really ?”
She’s trying to focus on his words. They’re coming from a long, long time ago. She knows this voice and slides a glance at him. Both somehow wasted at Urahara’s place for some bizarre reason. Both utterly useless against Aizen. She scowls at Gin and downs another saucer of the expensive wine she had raided from Kisuke’s stash. He had a lot of secret cupboards and drawers that she would explore in her own time. She got a free pass for being almost-dead not too long ago and she was intending to make full use of it.
Speaking of… almost-dead… she was still staring at Gin. Unhappy that this question was being directed her way instead of his. Wasn’t he the stupid little enemy? Why had Kisuke bothered to save this idiot?
Tch. A waste of space. She could still feel her body stinging with his zanpakuto’s familiar reiatsu. It almost sobered her- but she had been drunk on less before.
“Hah? What d’ya mean who am I? I’m hardcore 24/7. I’m the toughest bitch in the universe… pro-probablyyy… immortal. Ya can try killin’ me again if ya think ya got a chance… y’know, when yer not cuttin’ me like the backstabbin’ bitch ya are.”
She sniffed, recalling the horrendous attack. “Ya could’a let me punch Aizen first.”
She had spent a hundred years preparing that speech and he had just cut her off! Literally.
“… Ya wanna live too… huh?”
"Hm? Ain'tcha the old number three? So yer still walkin' these wastelands here eh?"
“I-Ichimaru-Sama?” Nelliel could recognise this Shinigami - the one that had always been smiling by Aizen’s side when they had first arrived in Las Noches.
How many years ago had she even been an Espada now? She wasn’t entirely certain. Her memories were all still jumbled up in her head. She could recall some of the flashes. Some of the faces... and a lot of the pain. Dondochakka and Pesche...
She inhaled, glancing at the Shinigami, bleached in Espada white as he smiled and smiled and smiled.
...
“N-Nel ain’t an Espada any more.”
