Business: I only own Cherry and heirverse storyline.
A/n: an extra cwst scene. im still dealing with ch7 feelings so have a thing I wrote earlier because apparently im on a kick and why not?
Early/mid cwst. Inspired by the song 'Crystalline' by CirCrush that strongly recommend listening to during or after reading this piece.
Written to Circrush's 'Crystalline','Wildfire', and 'Fragile' by xcepheid. Proofed to 'Frigid' by Pumpkin head.
notes: bad language. Emotional distress. Crying. Referenced cheating. Story cross references. Short one at 1533 words, but impactful. At least it was for me. I felt a lot of things with this one :(
"I am fixated on all of the things we were together,
But those are fragments that are better off lost forever!"
- CirCrush [Crystalline]
Crystalline
Gin took a deep, shaky breath as he stood in front of the door to his home, hands shaking holding his box. It was supposed to be easy. A quick in and out job. Go in, collect his things to take back to Ran's while he lived there for a while, and then go. It was not supposed to be this difficult. Or anxiety inducing. Already his hands were shaking and sweating and breathing was growing decidedly difficult.
He closed his eyes and dragged in as deep a breath as he could. He needed to steady himself, breathe, brace himself. It's just a house, he told himself. It's just four walls, a roof and a door. Why are you getting so worked up over a building? Get a grip. Suck it up.
Except, it wasn't just a building. It was his home. It was a part of his life. Quite a large part of it.
Of course he was going to get worked up over it. Of course he was going to find it hard. He'd spent seventy years of his life living here.
He heard Cherry whine softly and felt her press up against his leg, her warmth radiating up the limb, stopping him from shaking so much. He was glad he'd let her come along; he didn't think he could do this by himself.
He shifted his empty box to one arm and stooped down to scratch the fox's ear. "Thanks, Che-Che," he said quietly. Then he stood up again and fished his set of keys from his pocket, unlocking the door. Taking one last deep breath in and out to prepare himself mentally.
"Well... here goes nothin'." he said shakily. Then he stepped inside.
. . .
Gin sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth when he walked inside. He was not ready for this. Seeing his life all laid out before him. All the work and effort and love that had gone into making this house a home. Of making a life with Sousuke. It left him with an empty hollow feeling in his chest. What on earth was he supposed to do with all of this? It was as if a phantom hollow hole had opened up inside him, in that space inside his ribcage, into which any and all feelings apart from pain and ache fell into and dissolved.
He'd never felt so empty.
Photographs lined the walls; pictures of a life. Books lay scattered on the coffee table. A set of coffee mugs, from last week, before the fallout, the screaming, the shouting and crying, still sitting on the coffee table – a matching set, one for each of them. Upstairs, he knew, was their bed; a sanctuary. A place for intimacy, love, sharing. And somewhere in this house, a flower dictionary; the cipher to a code known only to them.
Gin moved through the house slowly, room by room. Collecting everything he thought he might need. His favourite mug. His favourite tea – Sousuke never deserved it anyway. A photograph of him and Cherry-chan, from before he even met Sousuke. His toothbrush from the bathroom and, from the bedroom, all the clothes he thought he might need.
It was hard. Most of the things he owned, Sousuke had brought him. Or loaned him, or given him to borrow and neglected to reclaim. Books, clothes both new and hand me downs from Sousuke, a watch, civilian clothes for the human world... that damn cotton scarf with the constellations on it, and-
Gin choked on a sob he didn't even know he was holding in. Gods, he never thought he'd be doing this- going through the pieces of his life, sobbing uncontrollably and packing up all his shit into a box.
This is what Sousuke'd reduced him to. How could you do this? Gin wanted to ask him.
That's when he caught sight of it. The flower dictionary. That fucking flower dictionary. His breath caught in his throat when he saw it, sitting on his bedside table. Just sitting there. Rubbing it in his face just how big of a fucking fool he was for doing this. For letting this happen. Because really he should have shot Sousuke down the second he asked to take him out on a date all those years ago.
And suddenly Gin wanted to destroy that book. He wanted to take that piece of shit and viciously tear out every single one of its fucking pages, one by one, and burn them. He wanted to throw that book into a black hole, or better yet, into the fucking sun. it was a dead language and it should have stayed dead, stayed away from him and Sousuke. That book and all it stood for deserved to die.
In the end he couldn't take looking at it anymore, or anything in the room. Because it just reminded him of all the things he and Sousuke were together. Lovers. Partners. Equals. Soulmates.
Two halves of a whole.
Memories assaulted him, their whole life playing over in his head. How much they's gone through together. How in a life so full of changes, they were each other's constant. One of the few things in Gin's life that had remained steady. One of the people, if not the only person, who understood him so wholly. So completely. The one person who'd become everything he needed to keep his sanity.
Gin closed his eyes, letting those fragments float by. His mind dipping into the holes in the ice to find the warm, pleasant memories of their time together. Each one mocking, each one a cruel slap in the face now. Each one a fragment that was better off lost forever. Each one a vibrant colour that was fading into grey and growing cold...
He lunged for the photographs first, the ones on the wall were swiped and smashed onto the floor, shattering into pieces. Next came the books, the dirty, empty mug on the chest of drawers. The vase of flowers went along with it. Gin wrought his carnage on their lifetime together with impunity. He grabbed whatever was within reach, snarling and destroying everything he could get his hands on. Aizen's book of crosswords. Photographs in their glass frames. Notepads. Vases. Kidou textbooks. Lecture notes. Flowers pressed and preserved in glass – another gift from Sousuke from ten anniversaries ago. Shattered now. Broken. Beyond all hope of repair, just like his heart. His life.
And Gin didn't care. Everything could go to hell for all Gin cared. Because the pain inside him, the emptiness, all the tears... was simply just too much. He'd rather just be shot of it all than feel like this. He'd rather cleanse and purge it all than feel this.
He surveyed his work, breathing heavily. He'd heard Cherry whimper, terrified, in his destructive rage. But she must have made a break for it, because he didn't see her anywhere. His chest heaved as he quieted down, eyes casting about for the constellation scarf, Aizen's Lolita book, and that damn dictionary... but he couldn't see them anywhere. Oh well. It didn't matter. They were gone. He didn't care where they were. Out of sight out of mind.
So he turned his attention to the pile of shit at his feet. All the broken useless pieces of an old life beyond salvaging now.
He wanted to strike a match and watch it burn. All of it. Everything. Light a bonfire and send it all back to hell where it belonged. Kill it with fire, and hopefully kill his feelings too.
This's all I've ever known... Gin thought. If I cut the strings that hold me to him, will I fall and shatter? Gin thought for a moment. Then he shook his head. But if that's what it takes to breathe again, does it even matter?
He threw all the things into a haphazard pile and then focused on his energy. Bypassing the kidou incantation because he just wanted it all to burn and burn now. He knew he was doing it wrong. His stance was horrid. His focus off. And tears were streaming down his cheeks blurring his vision. His hand was nothing even resembling steady... Sousuke would have corrected him, like he'd done at school.
"Lift your arm, widen your stance," he said softly, gently nudging Gin into the right position. Standing behind him and gently raising his arm."Now focus. Breathe, and let it-"
"Fuck off!" Gin screamed at the memory, letting the spell fire. Bang! Exploding onto its target – miraculously – and burning his hands in the process. The explosion throwing him back against the far wall and the flames of it tearing up the wall. Singeing everything in its path. He hit the wall back first, hitting his head as he collapsed onto the floor. His hands hurt, probably from burns. But what did it matter? He deserved this. For being a fool. For loving Sousuke. For everything. But that didn't stop it from hurting so unbelievably much, even as he lay on the floor, weeping bitterly until he was just too empty to cry anymore.