She set down her milk, letting him toy with her hair. She was still too on edge for any more overt affection than that, but she was quickly regaining her normal composure. The thought of Kisuke catching Ichimaru off guard did cheer her up a bit, even if the man was practiced at hiding his emotions.

A grimace flickered over her face at the mention of Aizen, and she had to roll her eyes. "It's like he couldn't help himself," she said, her voice dry. "Like he was so brilliant it was unthinkable he would deprive his enemies of the details of his plans."

It was fairly minor in the scope of all the harm Aizen had done, but she would freely admit that his droning on about his own brilliance had been particularly annoying. Yoruichi appreciated intelligence and the confidence that often came with it, but anyone as full of himself as Aizen deserved to be deprived of an audience--let him preen in solitude for the next few hundred centuries.