Author: Eggbert 3000 PM
Gin felt that if this was life's next grand adventure, it was surely a cop out. AU Crossover, Post-Winter War in Bleach and Pre-Series in One PieceRated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Supernatural - Mihawk & G. Ichimaru - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,802 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 32 - Follows: 40 - Updated: 02-01-12 - Published: 01-29-12 - id: 7785309
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: I own nothing... and yes, I'm a horrible person that won't ever finish a story. I apologize for existing... (also, little crossover concepts used from other series.)
Chapter One: Root
A world of darkness, quite different from the pristine white walls of Hueco Mundo or Soul Society, was what he woke to. A world of nothing, absent of everything... he immediately got that kind of feeling from it. This situation was kind of ironic, actually, once he thought about it. Beyond life was death, but what was beyond death? He'd never stopped to ponder it before, because while he had planned so much, for so long... his death by Aizen's hand had not been part of the final strategy. Gin was a master schemer and a sly manipulator, but in the end he had fallen tragically short by one miscalculation. Who would've thought the Hougyoku was sentient?
At the very least, he sighed mentally, Ah would've liked ta been killed by Rangiku. That had been the picture perfect ending of his now ruined grand plan. He'd kill Aizen, pretend to claim the Hougyoku for himself, act as if he had been waiting to surpass Aizen this whole time as ruler of the universe, and then let himself die by her hand. But, suddenly remembering that look in the substitute reaper's eyes, Gin added silently, Or Ichigo.
The silver haired man's musings were cut short by a strange, sucking sensation. There was no sound or movement in that world of nothingness, just an uncomfortable feeling in the gut that suddenly appeared without warning. Like the swaying coils of a snake, that pulling numbness seized him mercilessly and dragged him into a piercing light; a painful, stabbing white which flared out from a hole in the dark emptiness of the world.
Gin's lips curled into the beginnings of a tired smirk as he felt his spirit being dragged through.
"I'm going ahead, Rangiku. Bye bye.."
"If you were to turn into a snake tomorrow and begin devouring humans... and from that same mouth you started devouring humans, you cried out to me 'I love you'... would I still be able to say 'I love you' the same way I do today?"
Salt. Birds. Water. Those three things assaulted his mind as he slowly regained consciousness, lying on a bed of sand with a dry, bitter mouth, his heart pounding. That taunting memory sequence spluttered to a stop when he tried to heave himself up into a sitting position, the sudden movement triggering the return of his senses, all of which left him gasping and convulsing. His fingers scrabbled for a hold in the rough, wet sand, twitching like thin white spider's legs. For an old soul like him, it was almost too much. He was too used to death, too used to feeling nothing. To feel so... so alive was incredible, overwhelming, and at the same time terrifying and cruel. It was something he had never expected to experience. Like a dense fog had lifted, his entire being took a shuddering breath, deeply and clearly.
He was... alive?
The sudden solidness and warmth of his own body began to register within him. His eyes snapped wide open in shock, bright and pale sky blue of color, and he stared almost uncomprehendingly at what he saw. A toasted yellow grainy earth meeting a deep, green-tinted azure expanse of water, covered by a lighter, white powdered blue heaven. It would've been a beautiful sight to a man that wanted to live.
If this is paradise, Ah think Ah'll be wantin' ma money back right about now, thought Gin, narrowing his eyes back to their normal slitted state. He slumped, exhausted and emotionally drained, back onto the warm sand and curled into himself. His new flesh body hurt, his aching soul hurt, his heart hurt... the only solace he could find was the familiar feeling of his faithful wakizashi. He had a strangle hold on Shinso's worn faded steel-blue grip, and held it close to his chest like one would a baby or a treasure. The wicked edge of its steel blade reflected the afternoon sun, and that white gleam was a beautiful reassurance. One that was, unfortunately, not long lived. The silver haired man immediately realized something was amiss with his weaponized other half. It was... bigger...? Normally, this wouldn't have been a pressing problem because he could easily manipulate Shinso's length, but the fact was... even the hilt was larger. His hands did not grip it as firmly and completely as usual... rather, when holding his wakizashi, his fingers and thumb didn't touch, even when stretched! It was like his fingers were shorter, and his palm smaller.
Gin felt a cold dread settle into his chest, and he quickly turned over onto his belly, using the feeble strength of his arms and upper body to haul himself closer to the sea-green waters of the ocean shore. His hands plunged into salt water and a blast of it splashed into his face. He shook the extra droplets away and waited for the water to partially settle, his reflection soon confirming his latest fear. The image that stared back was of an extremely scrawny and pallid young boy no older than nine, with a short tousled mop of silver-white hair. The boy wore an old, worn down dark blue yukata, with a white chain design on the left side and a light brown men's obi. That boy... was him. A thoroughly de-aged him, wearing his old pre-shinigami outfit. This latest discovery was the last straw, and thus Gin willingly succumbed to the inky comforts of a much needed rest. He drifted off to sleep right then and there, half submerged in sea water.
Unbeknownst to him however, a few minutes later, two figures found him on the beach, resolutely gripping Shinso above the waves. They stopped near his floating body, casting long shadows onto the shifting sands and conversing quietly with each other. They looked nearly identical, except one wore red and the other blue, and their expressions and mannerisms were slightly different. The blue clad one seemed to possess a calmer disposition.
"What is a boy doing here? This one thinks he looks very ragged," the first figure commented.
"Says I, he might have fallen off a ship and drifted here," the second one hypothesized. "See, he has silver hair.. What an unusual color, so shiny and beautiful.. No one here has that chrome-like shade, says I."
"And look at that sword of his! What an incredible blade... This one has never seen anything like it."
"Such a masterpiece.. and he is cradling it so tightly. It must mean something to him, says I."
"This one wants to take him, and his precious wakizashi, back to the house. He needs treatment, that he does."
"Says I, so we shall."