I Will Not Allow You to Look Directly at Lord Aizen

Every inch of Ichimaru Gin's body ached with exhaustion. Weariness seeped from every strand of muscle, while weakness and pain relentlessly gnawed at his will. The coarse hemp clothes draped over his small, frail body had long been soaked through with sweat, clinging tightly to his skin. His thin figure slipped lightly into the bushes like a fox. Dragging along a body so tired it only wanted to sleep, he peered through gaps in the leaves.