Alright, on request, this is a oneshot about a meeting between two of my OCs, Inju Zetsumei and Ichimin Kumorigachi. Set before the rescue attempt for Orihime, but after she gets abducted. Enjoy, guys.

The tall white tower of Las Noches stood out brightly against the black backdrop of the sky, an alien building within a hostile environment. A familiar woman leaned from the edge of the great obelisk-like tower, long dirty blond hair hanging at her waist. She would need to have it cut shorter, all over again. Ichimin Kumorigachi didn't find interest in the sea of pale white sand, not really, but it was better than staring at the colorless walls of Las Noches's interior. She may have given in to Aizen, been blackmailed and inducted as a fucktoy for Ichimaru, but there were still moments in time where she thought back to Soul Society, to the days with the warm sun and the birds' chirps, the laughter of her drinking buddies and...oh, the sake. She missed being drunk, missed it way too much to be natural. Ichimin relied on that glorious nectar to live day to day, and now that it was gone, she had nothing to take comfort in other than the scant times she could lay with Aizen, not sex, just laying around. He was so busy all the time though, preparing to kill all her old friends and all.

"Probably a busy job, genocide." Ichimin murmured to the cold air whipping her hair around, hanging her hand over the edge of the tower and staring downwards.

"Just a little leaning, just a tiny bit more..." Ichimin leaned forward on the balls of her feet, hovering dangerously close off the edge of the tower. A bit more, and she'd most definitely be killed. Then, maybe she'd be reincarnated. Or become a hollow, and come right back here to serve Aizen once again. Fuck. Ichimin leaned back, sighing.

"Someday, but not today."

Her feet pounded against the colorless material making up the ground (Stone? The fuck was the shit they made Las Noches out of, anyway), desperate to put distance betwtaxeen herself and the man back behind her. Oh, was she so fucking pissed at him. Short, ragged black hair went this way and that as she ran, and amber eyes occasionally looked back to see if he was behind her. No, Grimmjow must have decided she wasn't worth chasing.

"Fucker." Inju Zetsumei muttered, coming to Aizen's throne room. He didn't seem to be here right now, though knowing him, Ichimaru was probably skulking around watching her. She'd met him a couple of times, namely when the eerie man would slip into her room and say 'Hi'. 'Hi' meaning when he would inch just a little bit too close to her, telling Inju all these stories about how nice the sun felt when he would go out, and how sad he felt for poor, poor Inju. She'd get pissed, he'd leave with an eerie smile and a 'Goodbye, Inju dear'. Creepy fucker.

Inju climbed up along the area, making her way to the staircase behind Aizen's throne. Damn Grimmjow, snapping at her. He'd been pissed about something, waltzed into her room, and had the gall to smack her around a bit because of her natural mouthiness, then demand sex. She told him to fuck off, he nearly choked her out, she used her reiatsu to hit him in the stomach hard enough to surprise the Sexta, slipped away from him and ran out the door. Now she was wandering Las Noches a bit, until someone caught her and dragged her back. Or raped her to death. Either one was fine, really.

Slowly, Inju headed up an extremely long staircase, step by step by step. When she got to the top, Inju was surprised to see another woman there, one leaning over the edge of the tower dangerously and staring straight down, like she wanted to fall. When this woman heard Inju arrive, she snapped back and stared at the arrival with fear for who it could be. When she saw an unfamiliar teenager who didn't look like or have the reiatsu of a hollow, she stared confusedly at her.

"Who the hell are you?" The dirty blond haired woman deadpanned, and Inju blinked.

"Slim fuckin' Shady. Who're you?" Inju spat, and the woman looked to be even further confused. "Who's Slim Shady?" She queried, and Inju groaned.

"Never mind, goddammit. I'm Inju Zetsumei, got my ass kidnapped by that Aizen fucker." Inju sighed, and the woman stared, before looking off in the distance again. "Ichimin Kumorigachi. Got my ass framed...sort of...for murder, and then kidnapped by that Aizen fucker." Inju noticed that she seemed to be smirking, a very, very faint smirk, but a smirk nonetheless. This Ichimin woman glanced over to Inju again, and the teen noticed her eyes. They were dull green, but they looked so very tired. She looked worn.

"C'mere. You look like you're running, and that makes two of us." Ichimin motioned to the spot beside her before returning her gaze to the distant Hueco Mundo sands, and Inju stayed put. She wanted to see if this woman, Ichimin, would force her. Ichimin didn't even move, just kept staring off into the distance.

Ichimin didn't mind having this kid around. She noted that the girl was foulmouthed, singular, and didn't seem to want to bend or obey anyone. It reminded her of another woman, one sitting in Seireitei two hundred or so years ago, staring knives through anyone else in the Shinigami Academy that so much as looked at her funny. One who was getting used to things other than slutty little kimonos. She laughed a bit, very softly. This caught Inju's attention, as she crossed her arms and glared at Ichimin.

"The fuck is so funny?" Inju growled, and Ichimin closed her eyes as she let her hand hang limp along the cold material of the tower. "Nothing, nothing at all. But I'm still laughing." Ichimin spoke quietly, opening her eyes again to stare off at the backwards moon. "Maybe, though, I'm laughing at the irony of it all. Never was worth a thing, other than a good blowjob and drinking contests. And here I am. The fuck does that work?" She lifted her arms, gesturing to the castle they were both prisoners of. Ichimin heard Inju walk up beside her, sighing.

"I ain't got the slightest idea. Maybe we're here 'cuz we lost this big game they call fate. But, hey. I was never one to believe in that sort of bullshit anyway." Inju spat over the side of Las Noches, and Ichimin followed suit and spat as well. She glanced to Inju, seeing the teen staring out with a scowl that seemed permanently set into her features, the tattoos peeking over her Las Noches uniform here and there, along with some choice scars from scuffles. Ichimin's eyes softened a bit, before they traveled out to the sea of blank white sand as well. Inju and Ichimin continued to stare out, not needing to speak to one another to know that they had a comrade in suffering. Neither knew what the other had gone through, but Inju could guess that Ichimin was stuck in some bad memories repeating themselves, and Ichimin could guess that Inju was traumatized into always expecting death to come at any moment.

"One is two." Ichimin spoke cryptically, and Inju couldn't for the life of her figure out what Ichimin was talking about. She didn't say that though, only breathed out into the cold Hueco Mundo air. "Yeah." Inju spoke, feeling Grimmjow's reiatsu coming towards her spot. She waved over her shoulder to Ichimin, crossing the small area and beginning to walk down the stairs.

"I've got a panther to tame." Inju spoke, before hearing Ichimin move to walk beside her. "I've got a king to serve." She told Inju, and the two women descended the stairs, as Aizen's reiatsu moved back to his throne room and Grimmjow's hung around the outside of it.

"Good luck, and good night."