Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
Poisoning
To her it was a magical moment on a magical night. A night where what had been trapped inside her, confused and unidentified, was given a name and set free.
He remembers no magic. He remembers it more as a night of bondage more than freedom
But both remember it vividly. Every second of the night burned into their mind. Every star in the sky, forever etched into their memory. Every sight and sound was a memory shared between the two for all eternity. But that is only ever half the story. For how can you share things that weren't, that couldn't, be said. How can you share things seen with closed eyes. They had seen only each other, but their minds could only be heard by themselves.
The soft grass trembled in the slight breeze, brushing against her skin and causing slight tingles as the blades carresed her form. The moon was full and slowly rising up the horizon as the hues of the world darkened and the sun finally fell over the horizon.
The moon crawled through the sky as the minutes passed, the night insects giving it a welcoming fanfare. It's friendly visage a welcome sight as she lay there and attempted to occupy herself.
It wasn't until she heard a rustle in the grass close by that she sat up. She stood up and adjusted her cloths. The night air was cold and she had little on but rags. It is sad to think that she is used to it and likely always would be. She turns around and is greeted by his form.
His hair beautily reflected the light of the moon and his pale skin seemed to almost glow in the scarce light. She had always thought him beautiful but the night offered him a brilliance that she had always loved.
He had been gone for over two weeks now but she forgot all that immediately in her relief that he was back.
She looked at his face. His eyes were closed, like usual. Two slits that she both envied and hated. however today they seemed more tightly closed than usual. His face was drawn into an expression she couldn't describe. She worried slightly at his expression but kept up her happy face.
He looked right at her, right into her eyes. He then drew his mouth into an even tighter frown. She got even more worried. He practically never smiled, but whenever he saw her again his mouth would almost, almost, form a happy grin.
He approached her and she stood still. Normally she would have been at him in a heartbeat, hugging him tightly and, sometimes when he was gone for a long time, even crying into his shoulder as he reassured her. However tonight he had something on his mind and she wouldn't stop worrying until he had got rid of his burden.
It wasn't long until they were in arms length. He looked at her then suddenly scooped her into a hug. He grasped her tightly, as if afraid she would blow away or try to leave his grasp. He hugged her tight and said in his soothing voice,heavy with something she had couldn't label at that time, "I love you, Rangiku."
Love had never been a word Rangiku had been able to use. She never had anyone to love, not until he came along. When he did, a fire started in her soul, growing stronger and stronger all the time. She had never been able to name what it was, but hearing this word, she knew it was love. In that moment the fire had been freed, filling her with warmth and comfort. She hugged him back and said, "I love you too, Gin."
Her world was created that night. That moment of realization was, and will always be, everything to her. This was the magic that she will alway remember.
Less than a mile from home he puts his mask in the hollow of the tree which he kept it in. The carved face of the kitsune set into a permanently calm face, even as Gin's own emotions were thrown into chaos. He could still feel the blood on his hands, the blood which still marked the mask. He grabbed the mask from the hollow and turned it around so he woulnd't have to see the blood of the man he had just killed.
The Rukon was a place of death. Death surrounded him since birth and, no matter how hard he closed his eyes, he would always see people die in throngs around him. But this blood was the first to ever stain his own hand.
"No," he told himself, "it is the second."
All those years ago,her blood had stained his hand. As he helped her stand up blood from the pool surrounding her had painted his hands red. Never had he been able to get by that day, her blood. Now another's blood had covered his hand, shed by him for her. Though this blood would fade in time, until the day when he got back what was taken from her he would never be able to clean her blood from his hands.
However strong his resolve his emotions conflicted with each other. Guilt, sadness, anger, and then there was...
He went to where he knew she was. She heard him approach and stood up. Her smile shaking his resolve and causing further inner turmoil.
He needed something, something substantial, something which could calm the raging battle inside of him.
The need for that support took him over. Step after step he drew nearer to her until he was within reach. He swallowed her in his grasp and brought down the guillotine, "I love you," he said, voicing the one immutable truth that was the foundation of his unshakable resolve, and what controlled him to hug her with the very hands that were stained with blood but an hour ago. And even as she said "I love you too," Gin hated himself, he knew he didn't deserve her love and that his love was nothing but poison.
"If you were to turn into a snake tomorrow and begin devouring humans, and from the same mouth you started devouring humans, you cried out to me 'I love you,' would I still be able to say 'I love you' the same way I do today?"
To him, speaking these three words would always be his cruelest action.