Name: God's will
Rating: PG13+ for now
The rain had not stopped for days. The streets of London were foggy, mist swirling around the downtrodden buildings of the streets, splashes of water flying as it crashed down to the cobblestone only to be sent up by the uproar of hooves and cabbies. The odd fellow had to brave through the wetness, being unable to catch a cab.
This was, in the other words, the perfect day for an equally downtrodden silver haired young man, eyes closed as usual.
Gin had a hat on, and a faded jacket, hunched around a tiny little green scarf. Shivering in clothes that simply weren't enough to keep the cold of winter, he stood by a lamppost, keeping a keen eye for his next victim.
Black balaclava, shielding himself from rain with a suitcase. Hmm… No. Running too fast.
Then – he saw him. His savior. His God.
His next few meals.
How could he resist a black clad man under a richly ornate umbrella, standing by the lamppost opposite him? He jumped into action, crossing the road as though his intention was the small bookshop right next to the man. The man didn't even glance at him as they crossed paths, and he hushed his breath.
And the 5 pound note was his.
Always hasty to make a quick exit, he was astounded at his good luck when the man didn't even turn to look. But he was counting his graces far too early.
His heart nearly stopped beating. He had bumped into something large… and wearing hard material… His semi-closed eyes turned up to look straight into the eyes of an angry, triumphant officer.
Gin found his arms twisted painfully behind him, manacles quickly set on his aching wrists. The officer jabbed a knee into his ribcage and Gin groaned, pain splitting through his spine.
'Now give ta money back ta the nice man.'
Gin gritted his teeth.
'It was jus' a few penny's, sir.'
'Give it back' now before I twist tha nice lookin' lil neck o' yours.'
The fat officer's eyes bulged, furious, and even through the rain, Gin could see a vein popping on his forehead. 'Oh yea'? How bout I take yer to court eh?' Cold sweat broke out on Gin's forehead and his shivering was even worse.
Then – through the pouring rain, a soft voice said;
'Let him go.'
Did it come from the man earlier? Gin turned around painfully, and took a good look at the man before he was shoved, face first, into the mud. Glasses, dark hair, eyes the color of ruby's.
His eyes were red…?
'I'm afraid I can't do tha, sir. He's criminal, see. Wanted all over London.'
'Yea' better be careful wi' 'im. Really' dangerous. Killed' somema people, I heard.'
'And how can you know for certain it's him?'
Gin really wished he could see more of the deep voiced man. The blood pounding in his heart seemed to slow down a little, and he wondered why. It was almost as if he believed that man would save him.
That was simply absurd.
And he told himself a hundred times already – absurd things jus' didn' happen. Give up. Your gunna get hanged. He wasn't scared, he found. But then, how long had it been since he was last 'scared?' Exhilaration wasn't foreign to him.
'Dunno… how a' know but it' kinda' looks like 'im, yanno? So why chance it'. I get 'eaps of money anyway, if it was 'im.'
'If you don't know for sure, I think you should let him go. He only did steal a few penny's, as he said.'
as I'm the victim, law states that I have some say in his sentence. So please, will you free him?'
'Argh, gett outa ma' way, yer scoundrel! I hate yer rich maggots' money ain't growin' on trees, yunno?'
Grabbed by the scruff, Gin was heaved up again, and the officer attempted to push past the black clad man. 'Hate ya all! Jus' tryin' ta mess with ma' li-'
And that was the last Gin heard as of him the officer sank to knees, his body sagging. Hands still clutching Gin's cuffs, he was dragged down as well, back again into the mud.
The pitter patter of the rain went on. The street was empty, and the sky seemed just that little more grey.
Gin sniffed in the coppery scent of fresh blood in the air, nose crimping. His eyes opened wide, and went from first the now dead officer, lying at the mans feet.
The man held a slim gun at the tips of his fingers. His kind eyes lacking any warmth as he stared emptily at the officer.
'Aizen Sousuke. I hope I never meet you again… Gin.'
And he was gone.
Gin knew he would probably spend the rest of his life trying to find that man again.
Please leave a review if you enjoyed it. :) I have an urge to start writing the next part now… I quite like this. (I pledge to myself that I would finish this)