A/N: This will be a series of chapters of varying size and styles. Not every chapter will be this long. On that note, everything will be connected, in some way or another, and there will be a plot. This is mostly a way for me to be creative. It's an idea that I've been playing with for a while now. Each chapter will be a part of the 500themes challenge on Livejournal.

Chapter One

Words did not exist to convey Rangiku's relief when she had learned that, despite the gravity of his injuries, Gin was going to survive. Unohana had treated him on the spot, knowing that emergency medical attention was necessary, and then ordered him to the Fourth Division hospital. Rangiku had started to follow, believing her place was at his side, but the quiet spoken captain had stopped her.

"You require treatment as well."

Though her words were gentle, they expected immediate obedience.

Rangiku could only mumble a few half-hearted protests, glancing all the while at the retreating stretcher bearing her injured friend, before submitting herself to the care of her superior.

"Thank you," Rangiku could feel tears forming in her eyes, blurring them into an ocean of emotions, "for saving him."

Unohana paused in her examination, allowing a serious stare to meet the rippling blue eyes of her patient, "It is my job to heal the wounded." She glanced away, briefly taking in the rush of her comrades and subordinates as they worked to check the unconscious humans. "Friend or foe."

Rangiku felt the sting of the last word and she bit her lip, temporarily stilling the tears. "Gin's not our enemy. He tried to kill Aizen."

The captain shrugged, half-regretting the necessity of her next words. "He tried to kill a lot of others too. Inevitably, Gin will have to stand trial for his crimes."

Unohana was satisfied that Kira's previous administrations had not been entirely futile. Rangiku's physical wounds would heal with rest and time. But the other wounds—those renewed with every beat of the vice-captain's worried heart—would take longer.

"They will consider his final actions," Unohana offered with a slight smile of reassurance.

Rangiku, however, couldn't bring herself to meet the medic's eyes, knowing she would find there a vast array of pity contradicting her former statement.

There would be no consideration. Gin was a traitor in the eyes of Soul Society. And they would judge him accordingly.

Rangiku tightened her hand, allowing her fingernails to sink into the surface of her palm. A new resolution began to pervade and overcome her momentary helplessness. Something more primal and instinctual. She would protect him, this time. She would act on his behalf before Central 46 and defend him, even if it would cost her life.

With a new resolve, Rangiku met Unohana's stare. Gin…I won't lose you a second time. "No one will take him away again."

"Ohh?" Rangiku drawled, allowing her bottom lip to curve its way into an almost irresistible pout, "Why can't I see him?"

The two guards at the door averted their eyes, "We're sorry, but orders are orders."

Tough guys, huh? Rangiku allowed the pout to transform into a small triumphant smile. With a sweeping gesture, she nonchalantly found the best angle for displaying her cleavage and continued in her most alluring voice, "Not even for a minute?"

Their breathing had suddenly become much sharper. "What business do you have with him?"

That's more like it. Rangiku withdrew a folded sheet of paper from the folds of her clothes at her chest. "Just some paperwork for 10th Division. It's imperative that I fill it out before the end of the day." Fake tears began to form a glassy sheen in her eyes, "If I fail to finish, my Captain will scold me!"

"Now, now!" One of the guards stepped forward abruptly, taking her in his arms. "Don't cry!"

Rangiku looked down despairingly, as if the ground might hold all the answers. "I just can't imagine what will happen if I don't finish this paperwork. I've always been so prudent and hardworking."

The guard had yet to release her and she felt him glance towards his partner; within a couple of seconds, they had cracked the door open. "Not too long, okay? Knock when you want to come out."

She gave them her most charming smile and deftly extracted herself from the grip of her comforter, "Of course."

"Gin, I—"

Rangiku halted in mid-sentence as her eyes scanned the room and came to rest on the bed.

It was empty.

"Gin?"

She took a step forward as her mind began churning out thoughts like a machine in the process of working overtime. Gin wasn't there. If he wasn't there, then where was he? She felt a sudden twinge of fear. Had Central 46 come to claim him for his trial? No. The guards were under the impression that he remained in the room.

Rangiku leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor. Gin… you've left me again, haven't you?

But she couldn't stay there. Not with the guards waiting outside the door. They would think that she had something to do with his escape. And Rangiku knew from experience that Gin left without a word in order to protect her from that sort of suspicion.

She took a deep breath and stood, preparing herself for the inevitable. I hope you've gotten far enough. Wherever you're going.

Why did he always have to be so difficult? She would have helped him. She would have stood in his defense.

And now, to save herself from the scrutiny of the higher-ups, she would have to report him. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Gin!

"Guards!" The door opened immediately and she forced her best-panicked expression. "He's gone!"

Yes. Yes, indeed, Gin was gone.

But despite what she had originally thought, he had actually left her a memento, a small slip of paper resting half-hidden in the folds of her bed. If the moonlight hadn't hit it just right, she would have completely overlooked it.

Rangiku read quickly, her heart in her throat all the while—pulsing with every word illuminated in the dark

"If you were to turn into a snake tomorrow, and began devouring humans, and from the same mouth that you devoured humans, you cried out to me, "I love you!" Would I still be able to say "I love you," the same way that I do today?"

As she read it a second time, her brow furrowed into something remotely resembling a frown. A riddle? It seemed so personal—the question that he asked—but so impersonal as well. As if just by writing it, he was putting himself out there in the open, awaiting her judgment.

Yet, Gin had never been one to wait around for her response.

Upon closer inspection, she realized that he had also written something on the back.

"Don't ever forget. I'm the Snake."

Her grip tightened and she felt the paper begin to crease under the pressure. What did it all mean, in the end? What did he want her to do? She thought of the question he had posed. Would she be able to say "I love you" after everything that had happened—after witnessing the atrocities committed by his hand?

To this day, looking back on their history, Rangiku couldn't understand him. Perhaps, she realized, she never would. Because Gin traveled in a world of shadows, touched by a darkness that had never been a part of her own life.

She glanced up at the moon, regarding the way it curved into two distinct points. They seemed to direct her—two points, two directions, and two choices. One towards the heavens, the other towards hell. But what difference would it make in the end, this choice, if in the end she could not be with him?

Would I still be able to say "I love you," the same way that I do today?

A ghost of a smile found its way to her lips. Brief and exquisite. Love was not a word Gin voiced often—if ever. But in asking that question, he had answered her own.

Of course, Gin.

Some things would never change. Even after all this time, she could not turn from him.

Even a snake must shed its skin, you know.

Rangiku watched haphazardly as the liquid in her sake cup spiraled in light ripples with every gentle turn of her fingers. The movement was absentminded, reflecting the nature of her thoughts; she wasn't even drinking it. It had become merely something to hold in her hand.

It had started out as one of those days. One of those days where Gin pervaded every inch of her thoughts, leaving her without a reprieve.

A stack of untouched paperwork lingered perilously close, but she had made sure to sit just out of reach. Though she had to continue her duties, she couldn't help but mope. He had been there. So close. How was it that he always slipped through her fingers at the last minute?

She heard the door slide open, but didn't bother to glance up. Rukia's reiatsu filled the room as she entered, burdened with a stack of human magazines.

"You need to read this." She dropped them on to the desk with a thud, right where the paperwork should have been. "It's extremely well-known in the human world right now. It'll cheer you up."

Rangiku didn't move, "What is it?"

"A story by an anonymous author. There is a new chapter every week and it's already published in several languages!" Rukia was becoming more enthusiastic now. "It's so cute! There is this fox that meets a cat after wolves injure her in the woods. And he promises to protect her…" She paused for air, "Here, let me draw it for you!"

Rangiku didn't try to stop her. Instead, she allowed her eyes to fall once again upon the swirling within the cup. "I don't have time to read for pleasure. I can't even find time to read the paperwork."

"No one finds time to read paperwork." Rukia countered, holding up a drawing simultaneously. "Look. This is the fox—Shin. And here," she held up a second drawing, this time with a cat, "is Hai."

Rangiku arched an eyebrow, failing to hide the sigh that followed, "Sounds like classic literature already."

For a brief moment, Rukia seemed put out by the vice-captain's strange behavior. Rangiku was not the type to have an attitude. At least not while she was sober. And, despite the large amount of liquor at her side, Rukia could tell that Rangiku was indeed quite sober.

This didn't make much sense, once she began to think about it. Rangiku's love of alcohol was not a secret. And due to the events of Gin's most recent departure, Rukia was sure that Rangiku relied almost entirely on the sake for suppressing any stray thoughts of him.

"You don't read classic literature."

"For good reason. Hitsugaya-taichou gives me too much paperwork."

"I'll read a little bit of the first chapter." Rukia decided, grabbing the top magazine off the stack. "You need…something else to think about."

She opened it to the correct page and scanned the surface, "The story is called Cache-Cache. And—" She stopped briefly, upon realizing that Rangiku was laughing, "What?"

"What kind of name is that?" Rangiku felt mentally drained; the laughter came without a barrier, without censoring. It was like having a breakdown—like she was giving in to all the pain of loss. Of losing not just once, twice, but close to a third time. "Cache-Cache?"

Rukia grinned and nodded, "I figured you would ask, so I looked it up. It means Hide-and-Seek…in French."

Rangiku sobered up finally, feeling slightly intoxicated from nothing but the laughter alone. In some ways, it was liberating. "Why would he choose that title, I wonder?"

"Should I continue?"

Rangiku nodded, feeling obligated to indulge her friend. What harm could come of it? If anything, it spared her the thought of paperwork.

After a couple of seconds of searching, Rukia found her place, "Chapter One: Left Behind."

"And so my story begins. I want to say that it began and ended in a far away land. Because it did. But those aren't the right words. Because it was so much more than that. So much more than beginnings and endings. So perhaps I should say that I want to start where I left off—on an unfinished page—in hopes that I can loop around to the real story and to a real end.

Thus, I'll start with what I know. That my name is Shin. And I am a fox. Not just any fox, though. Possibly the most wanted in the entire world. Infamous. Loved. Hated. Respected. Feared. I have been all of those things and possibly more. I have had names: Shin the Traitor. Shin the Soul Reaper. Shin the Captain. I have led others into battle. I have killed the same men I have led. I have loved someone more than she knows. More than she can ever know. And I have betrayed her too.

So perhaps, in the end, this is atonement for those crimes. For leaving everyone behind. For leaving her behind. For leaving in general.

I started out alone. Foxes are always alone. We aren't like the wolves who travel in packs. We don't have flocks. Or herds. We prefer our wit, our manipulation. We prefer teasing and playing games because we like to win. But that only leads to a lonely life because no one wants to trust us. Perhaps it's wise because, in truth, no one ever knew with me—whether I was good or bad. Not my superiors, not my allies. And not even her…"

"What do you think?" Rukia asked finally, searching Rangiku's features expectantly.

Rangiku finally took a sip of the sake, glancing mildly over the rim of her cup, "I can see why the author writes anonymously."

"It's not that bad!"

"Sounds like some kind of message that the rest of the world has managed to misconstrue."

"It's a romance," Rukia said simply, dropping the magazine back onto the stack. "I'll leave them here for you."

"Thanks."

Rukia made her way for the door, turning only once she was on the verge of the exit. "I think you'll find it more interesting than paperwork." And as the door shut behind her, she mumbled just loudly enough that the moping Vice-Captain could hear her through the screen, "Trust me."

Several moments passed after Rukia's departure and Rangiku had yet to move an inch. She was in a trance, searching for something to add up—without realizing just what she was adding. Her blue eyes took in the glossy surfaces of the magazines, analyzing how the light hit the sheen of the covers with just the right amount of appeal. Then, with even more reluctance, she allowed her stare to fall upon the paperwork just opposite them. The stack seemed to grow of its own accord and she barely managed not to cringe at the thought.

If she had to spend her time in the 10th division office, she might as well do something more amusing.

Slowly she reached out, taking the magazine Rukia had just replaced on the top. The cover was a collage of famous quotes by writers of different eras. It amazed her that, even after the lives of these humans had long since ceased to exist, a part of them still lived on through their words. They still touched the lives of the living, even after their deaths. It was fascinating, really. The way mankind managed to leave something behind.

Unlike… she shook the thought from her head, turning back to the cover. A "NEW WORK INSIDE" caption graced the bottom left corner in big red letters.

She opened the page to the critiques and acclaims, and began to read aloud:

"Cache-Cache is the story to read. This chapter is heartfelt and engaging. An exploration of the human heart and the quest for redemption. A fine debut for an up and coming writer."

"If you don't yet know Snake, Cache-Cache's secretive author, you will feel like you know him after reading Chapter One of this brilliant new story."

"You'd think this was a masterpiece," Rangiku murmured under her breath. "Some cocky guy writes some predictable, unoriginal romance under a silly name."

But then she paused as the math finally fell into place and everything clicked.

Snake…

"Don't forget. I'm the Snake." She quoted from the note Gin had left behind. A paper she had read so many times that the edges had started to fray from constant refolding.

Without waiting a second longer, she found the paragraph where Rukia had left off and began to read. After several moments, Rangiku stopped, incapable of continuing as a fresh wave of emotion nearly drove her to down the nearest sake bottle. What the hell are you doing Gin?

But she already knew.

Even if she couldn't always understand him, Rangiku still knew him the best. Gin was writing about her—to her—and telling her, in his own way, his version of their story. She had always been on the outside looking in; she had always been at his back, watching him walk away from her. But this time he was walking in the opposite direction. Gin was finally trying to close the gap—to smash down the dam and allow the waters to flow unhindered.

She turned her attention back to the story, determined to finish the chapter. Why couldn't he have told her all of this in person? Why all the metaphors?

Because he can't tell me in person.

The rest of the chapter was mostly an introduction—an organization of place and time and emotions. But as she finished it, two things were wholly established. One: the feeling of loss was so obviously evident in Gin's heart as well. He wasn't hiding behind the squint of his eyes or that horridly fake grin anymore. Two: She had to find him.

After closer inspection, Rangiku got the impression that he was leaving clues for her. He wasn't going to tell the entirety of Soul Society where he was, assuming they discovered the metaphors. So he was going about it the hard way, relying on the force of human words—the love humans had for a good story—in hopes that they reached Soul Society.

At least, that was what Rangiku was hoping.

He has no other reason to do this, she reminded herself as she reached for a pen. And, in preparation for a long night, she poured herself a cup of sake in silent celebration.

Gin had always been an enigma and Rangiku had never much liked trying to solve him. But this time, this time, if she had any hope of finding him—of seeing him again—she was going to have to find the answer.

This is the last time, Gin. A genuine smile crept its way across her face, replacing her weariness with a renewed gleam. I accept your challenge.

Originally written for 500themes challenge. The prompt is 13. Left behind.

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