She wasn't sure what it was that made her wake up so abruptly, a feeling of complete panic clutching at her heart. She threw the covers off and slipped out of bed, her bare feet pattering against the wood as she darted out into the hall.
She wasn't even sure what she was thinking when she reached for the phone, her mind still half asleep as her fingers punched in a familiar number. Her heart was pounding as she waited, waited…
She slammed the hand device back into the receiver, then took out her cellphone, hitting speed dial. His number had always been first, and she hardly ever needed an excuse to bother him…
She waited.
It's late, he's asleep and doesn't notice the phone, she told herself. I'm being paranoid…
That's when the phone rang.
Suddenly, she was reluctant to answer it. She slowly flicked her cellphone closed again, returning it to the pocket of her nightdress as she counted to the rings. One, two, three, four, five…
It wasn't stopping.
She picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Rangiku, there's been an accident."
No introduction, but then, she knew that voice. No beating around the bush, either, but he wouldn't if it was serious. And Izuru wouldn't call her like this unless it was serious.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Gin?" she asked faintly, and she could hear his voice crack on the other end when he replied.
"Yeah. Some idiot hit him with a car. He's critical."
Rangiku's fingers tightened around the phone, her eyes staring blankly at the wall as she tried to make sense of that statement.
"Rangiku?"
"I heard," she replied blankly. "Where?"
"We're at Soken Memorial Hospital. Should I come and—"
"No, I'll be right there," Rangiku interrupted. "Don't worry. See you soon." Without waiting for him to respond, she hung up.
And stared at the phone, waiting for it to ring again and to hear that familiar, teasing voice telling her it was all a joke.
No, even Gin wouldn't go that far.
With a sobbing intake of breath, she turned and hurried back upstairs, changing haphazardly before slipping on her shoes and grabbing the car keys. The whole time, she repeated to herself excuses and reassurances, trying to make herself believe that everything was going to be okay.
He's critical.
Got hit by a car.
She shook her head viciously and slammed the car door shut behind her, stabbing the key into the ignition.
It's going to be alright, she told herself, her fingers tight around the steering wheel. He promised.
.
Izuru was waiting out front, sitting on a bench with his head buried in his arms. Rangiku could tell he was exhausted before she even parked the car, his entire being seemed to radiate weariness.
He looked up as she walked towards him, and his eyes reflected her previous assumption. "Hey, Rangiku," he said tiredly, rising. "Sorry for calling so late, but I thought…"
"What happened, Izuru?" she interrupted bluntly, eyes hard. "What happened to my Gin?!"
He flinched away like she had hit him. "Car," he blurted, avoiding her eyes. "Abarai actually found him, and called the hospital right away. He said it looked like a hit-and-run incident."
Rangiku looked at him incredulously. "Incident? Incident? That's what they're calling it? Gin's in critical condition and they're just calling an incident?!"
"He's… going to be fine," Izuru insisted weakly. "It's the best hospital in the area, the doctors will know what to do."
Doctors can't do everything.
Rangiku didn't say anything more, merely walked past her friend into the hospital. From there, time and events blurred as she waited for news, alternating between pacing and sitting and drinking cups of horrible coffee. Izuru was like a silent shadow, watching her pace, trying to comfort her as she sat in desolation and twice going out to buy coffee from a nearby restaurant rather then watch her consume yet another cup of hospital brew.
It was around four in the morning when Gin's father arrived, a tall, pale man with white hair and gentle blue eyes, the exact same shade as Gin's. Rangiku had never met the man, Gin hardly ever talked about him, so she was unsure what to expect, but he seemed far different then she had expected based on what she knew of Gin. He smiled, yes, and often, but his was a very kind, genuine smile, and his accent and mannerisms were so different from Gin's she had a hard time believing they were actually related.
Izuru retold what they knew to the man while Rangiku nursed her cooling cup of vanilla latte, wondering what was taking so long. They had barely heard anything from the doctors, and it had already been hours since Gin had been brought in. Surely they should know something by now…
"Rangiku-san, I assume."
The gentle voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up into the sad smile of the older Ichimaru.
"That's me," she replied, trying to summon a smile and failing.
"Gin has written about you. I must say, it's an honor to finally meet you."
Rangiku was slightly surprised, she had assumed by his silence on the subject that Gin had been on bad terms with his only living parent.
"He wrote about me?" she asked, tracing a finger around her mug.
"That's right, in nearly every letter." He held out a hand. "Ichimaru Shirou. Nice to meet you."
"Matsumoto Rangiku," Rangiku replied instinctively, taking his hand. It was warm, quite the contrast from his son's.
Ichimaru-san's eyes closed for just a moment as they shook, and Rangiku was shaken by the sudden, strong resemblance. Their handshake broke, and Ichimaru-san sat down in the chair next to her, clasping his hands in front of him.
"Ichimaru-san?" Rangiku ventured. "Gin… never really talked to me about you much, so… well, I was wondering how much he's actually told you about me."
Ichimaru-san smiled. "Oh, not that much about actual life, but I know he cares about you. A lot. I would assume, from the way he talks, the feeling is mutual?"
Rangiku blushed slightly, shifting in her chair. "Well, yes…"
"Then there's not that much left for me to be curious about," Ichimaru-san said plainly. "I know my son, and I know how cautious, and patient to a fault, he can be. The only mysterious part of this equation is you, but Gin trusts you with his heart, so I'm inclined to trust you with it as well."
Trusts you with his heart… something in the way Gin's father said that bespoke great pain, and Rangiku wondered why. She had known Gin for years, but, honestly, she knew nothing at all of his life before that.
"I'm going to go and get something to eat," Izuru said, rising. "Ichimaru-san, would you like me to get you anything?"
The smile was back, recovering from the slight lapse with no trace of sadness lingering. "No, thank you, Kira-san, I ate on the way. Though, if you wouldn't mind, a cup of tea?"
"Of course. Rangiku?"
Rangiku almost said no, but realized she was starving now that she had calmed down somewhat. "Sure, thanks Izuru. Just something light, though, a muffin maybe."
"Right, I'll be back."
With Ichimaru-san's arrival a sense of calm had reached Rangiku, as if his simple presence was healing her frayed nerves. If Gin's father could wait patiently, calmly for news on his son, then surely Rangiku could as well. Izuru remained his worried, depressing self, but that was natural, and his constant running back and forth kept all three well supplied with drinks and tidbits from nearby late night diners and gas stations. Certainly the warm pastries were better fare then what the hospital, however competent its doctors were, could offer.
The sun was rising, and Rangiku dozing on Izuru's arm, when a doctor finally approached them. She woke up to the doctor's low voice and Ichimaru-san's reply, the individual words lost on her, but the reactions all too revealing.
Izuru choked out a sob, and Rangiku's head shot up, looking at both the doctor and Ichimaru-san with wide eyes.
"What? What happened?" she asked, and for once Ichimaru-san did not reply. More nerve-racking was the lack of smile, his downcast eyes.
"Can we see him, at least?" Izuru asked, his hands turning white as he gripped the arms of his chair. Rangiku's heart nearly stopped.
"Of course," the doctor replied, his eyes sympathetic. "Ichimaru-san?"
"Yes…" replied the elderly man, rising. "Yes, we should say goodbye."
Rangiku's chest constricted, a lump rising in her throat. "No…" she whispered, too quiet for anyone to hear, as Izuru and Ichimaru-san followed the doctor out of the waiting room. "No…"
She followed numbly, simply following the men in front of her as her mind threw block after mental block in front of the condemning words she had just heard. Gin was… well, Gin. He could get out of anything, it was like trying to corner a fox. Gin was too sneaky, too smart to… to…
And then they were in his room, and her arguments fell flat.
He was even paler then usual, something Rangiku would have thought impossible, and the long, thin hand that peeked out of his blanket had a hypodermic needle taped to it, connected to one of those IV things. The monitor sat nearby with its beeping heart-rate measurements, so familiar from movies, but now erratic, fluttering.
Gin…"Would… you mind giving me a moment alone with him?" asked Ichimaru-san, and Izuru shook his head quickly, plucking at Rangiku's sleeve.
"Come on," he muttered, but Rangiku didn't really hear him. She stared, stunned, at the pale, drawn face of her best friend… no, more than that now. The man she loved. And he's dying…
She didn't react as Izuru and the doctor led her out, or when Ichimaru-san left the room a few minutes later, silent tears running from his sky-blue eyes as he went to talk with the doctor again. Then Izuru pulled her gently back in, back into that room where Gin lay dying.
She didn't even know what to say. Izuru was no better, just sobbing silently before saying a strangled "goodbye" and fleeing the room. Understandable, from his point of view it was practically his older brother who was dying. Best friend, protector…
Rangiku sank into the chair by Gin's bedside, her fingers tightening as her own tears finally came. She reached out, taking his pale, bloodless hand in her own, and let the whole night's emotion out at once.
"Why?" she sobbed, dropping her head onto the edge of his bed. "Why now?! When you had finally asked…!"
The erratic beeps that signified Gin's heartbeat turned suddenly, abruptly, into a flurry of all-too-fast beeps, and moments later a hand had dragged Rangiku to her feet. Activity seemed to explode around her, and she was hustled quickly, but not roughly, out of the room, calls in the complicated language of doctors following her. Izuru and Ichimaru-san were outside, Izuru sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up, Ichimaru-san standing next to him with his head bowed, eyes closed. The picture of sad acceptance.
The doctors' voices fell for a moment, and in that moment the only sound was a long, drawn-out drone. Then more activity… then more silence, broken only by that unending tone.
Rangiku stood like a statue, her tears still running down her cheeks. As the activity in the room behind her continued, she finally moved, walking past the other two and into the lobby, then out of the doors. The sun was now almost fully risen, shining out into a clear, blue sky, and she stared up at that endless blue as she walked slowly down the sidewalk, leaving her car behind.
Please don't leave me, Gin.
.
It was a cold, grey morning that Rangiku knelt, hands pressed together, in front of Gin's grave. Her tears fell silently to the ground, a few landing on the chrysanthemums growing in front of the stone.
A ring hung from her neck, a short length of fine chain dangling from the simple band, matching the longer chains that fastened the necklace around her neck. Her garb was somber black, except for the pink scarf she always wore. The scarf he had given her the night he proposed.
The night before he died.
"Hey, Gin," she said, leaning back on her heels and opening her eyes. "Things are… finally settling down. We all miss you, though." She sniffed, then managed a chuckle. "Shuuhei is trying to take over your job with Izuru, but I think he's just scaring him. They both came over today, Shuuhei brought some sake with him. They still think I need to be cheered up."
She sat for a moment, then sighed. "I've been able to talk with your father quite a bit. He's a very nice man, but I think your death hit him hard. I didn't know he was so ill, you never said anything. You should have. It would have been nice… to talk to you both, I mean, about the same things, at the same time.
"I would have liked… to be able to tell everyone. I've only told your father and Orihime so far, and even that hurt. I still don't understand. Why did you have to go that night? My dream had come true, I had the proof on my finger, and then you tear it away from me again before a single day has passed? It was cruel, Gin, very cruel."
She shook her head, laughing through her tears again. "No, I'm sorry, I should stop blaming you. You didn't mean to leave me behind, not this time. That evening you had finally decided to take me with you.
"I… miss you."
Silence returned for a minute, and then Rangiku rose, brushing off her skirt. She drew her scarf closer around her neck as the cold fog swirled around her, then glanced at the grave one more time.
"I'm sorry, I never did say it before. So… goodbye, Gin. I love you."
.
.
"Why?" she had sobbed. "Why now?! When you had finally asked…!"
And, for just a moment,, his cold, cold hand had tightened around hers, as if to say, "I'm sorry."
Or, maybe, "Goodbye."