The radio broadcast was the last thing he heard and the first thing he woke to in the morning. He remembered the unsettling feeling it gave him, something about it hit far too close to home.
He woke with a start, his muscled tensed as he realized where he was. Again. They'd done it again. He knew he hadn't returned to this room and yet, here he was. Had there been some kind of gas? Was everyone back in their places? The knives were left, as well as his apron from the night before. Why? What kind of idiot would leave his enemies weapons, weak though they might be? He craved logic and reason and no answers came.
He could hear the buzz of activity outside in the halls. He pulled off his weapons and scanned the room for hiding places. He could fight, yes, but now wasn't the time. He needed more information. With one of the knives, he made a small incision into the mattress and stuffed it and the apron inside. The other knife he hid away in his closet, in a niche' near the sliding door. He wasn't about to put all his eggs in one basket.
It wasn't long before the nurse came again to fetch him. He put on a smile and followed, though he kept his guard up, listening and watching for any attack that might come. Abarai's drugs had no doubt worn off by now and he wasn't going to be caught unawares this time.
At least he was easy to spot. Gin saw the red-head seated on the far end of the room as he walked through the line at breakfast. He was hungry, but there were far too many sweet things for an empty stomach. He picked some processed meats and toast and decided to give the eggs a try. Then a glass of water and a small cup of tea. He sat far from the table where he was sure the other shinigami would begin to gather. Kuchiki was already there and no doubt Kurosaki would follow. Ran... he was certain she'd stay with her own unless she wanted to be labelled a traitor as well.
His mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk as he glanced down at his food and tried not to appear clumsy with the western utensils. It faded after a moment, but he had to laugh at himself. What had he expected to happen? It was ridiculous to even consider... Forgiveness was not something he wanted nor deserved. It meant defeat. Admitting he was wrong. They weren't. He wasn't. They just didn't understand. He pushed the notion to the back of his mind and concentrated on his eggs.
no subject
He woke with a start, his muscled tensed as he realized where he was. Again. They'd done it again. He knew he hadn't returned to this room and yet, here he was. Had there been some kind of gas? Was everyone back in their places? The knives were left, as well as his apron from the night before. Why? What kind of idiot would leave his enemies weapons, weak though they might be? He craved logic and reason and no answers came.
He could hear the buzz of activity outside in the halls. He pulled off his weapons and scanned the room for hiding places. He could fight, yes, but now wasn't the time. He needed more information. With one of the knives, he made a small incision into the mattress and stuffed it and the apron inside. The other knife he hid away in his closet, in a niche' near the sliding door. He wasn't about to put all his eggs in one basket.
It wasn't long before the nurse came again to fetch him. He put on a smile and followed, though he kept his guard up, listening and watching for any attack that might come. Abarai's drugs had no doubt worn off by now and he wasn't going to be caught unawares this time.
At least he was easy to spot. Gin saw the red-head seated on the far end of the room as he walked through the line at breakfast. He was hungry, but there were far too many sweet things for an empty stomach. He picked some processed meats and toast and decided to give the eggs a try. Then a glass of water and a small cup of tea. He sat far from the table where he was sure the other shinigami would begin to gather. Kuchiki was already there and no doubt Kurosaki would follow. Ran... he was certain she'd stay with her own unless she wanted to be labelled a traitor as well.
His mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk as he glanced down at his food and tried not to appear clumsy with the western utensils. It faded after a moment, but he had to laugh at himself. What had he expected to happen? It was ridiculous to even consider... Forgiveness was not something he wanted nor deserved. It meant defeat. Admitting he was wrong. They weren't. He wasn't. They just didn't understand. He pushed the notion to the back of his mind and concentrated on his eggs.