Dear Diary…

6 ½ years ago ...

The silence that lay over Hueco Mundo was almost eerie. It was disturbingly quiet in Las Noches too. That, and the fact that it was always the darkest night outside of Aizen's residence, could take a toll on a person's mind. Aizen's right-hand man, Ichimaru Gin, had already had this experience. If he wasn't the one who'd gone mad - until now, at least. In the last few days, however, things had looked increasingly different. He was about to go nuts. Shortly before that, everything for which he had worked so hard for the past 100 years was simply thrown out. No, he wasn't allowed to! It was more than clear to him that it would come to an end one way or another soon. One way or another. He therefore decided he would heed some advice from his Fukutaicho and write down everything that had happened, what bothered him, what would happen in the near future. Not that anyone would ever read it, but - if Izuru was right - it would help keep his mind together. However, it was a liberating and risky undertaking to keep this diary because he already knew one thing: If even a scrap of it fell into the hands of Espada, or even Aizen, it would be the end of it.
Gin sighed and looked out the window. Except for the light of the full moon and a rather small desk lamp that he had bought not so long ago on one of his occasional forays into the world of the living, there was currently nothing that lit up the small, barren room, yet he began to write.

Day XX Hueco Mundo writer Ichimaru Ginyanote
How many days has it been since we turned our backs on Soul Society? I hardly remember. But a single image was irrevocably burned into my memory. It was a face. Namely yours, Rangiku. The desperate look on your face has barely let me sleep through the night since then. How much I wished I could tell you everything Ran-chan. But you, me, no, we both have to hold out a little longer. Just give me a little more time Ran, I swear he will atone and I will give you back what has always been yours.
Greetings gin

Gin hesitated a moment before continuing. The thought of his beloved Ran and everyone else he had apparently betrayed was more painful than he had initially expected, but he decided - at least on paper -
also to apologize to Izuru and the 3rd Division.

Izuru. I don't know what you think of me now, what the 3rd unit thinks of me. Gomene minna. Can imagine how difficult it must be for you and God knows I certainly don't deserve to be your Taicho again someday. Honestly not. Don't deserve that you ever look at me again. Actually, I don't even have the right to beg forgiveness. For what I have done to Ran and you, no, to all the people who mean something to me, I cannot expect any forgiveness.And still I hope you all will understand at some point.
Greetings Ichimaru-Taichou ... Nah, it's just called Ichimaru-san, I'm not Taichou anymore ... (It'll take me a while to get it, right?)

Another sigh escaped Ichimaru. He, otherwise always careful not to let any emotions surface, stood shortly before the collapse after he had written these last lines. Because contrary to popular belief, he had feelings just like everyone else. In fact, he was anything but cold-hearted, even if it mostly made the impression that it was so. And Ginyanote had always been anything but ready to dispel this misunderstanding. After all, he had always found it more than interesting to see the reactions of his colleagues to his apparently always present smile and his seemingly never-ending cheerfulness, to comment on them in - sometimes out loud - sarcastic, sometimes almost cynical thoughts or to play with the fears and reactions of his "victims". It's always been the type of entertainment he preferred the most. But from time to time all smile disappeared from his face and gave space for what he really felt. And in that one moment it was nothing more than unbearable pain that threatened to overwhelm him. That and pure despair.