I don't own Bleach or any of the characters. It's better that way. But if Kubo-sensei is willing to hand over Halibel…I'll treat her well, I promise…
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Rangiku looked up at Ichimaru Gin as he appeared in the sky next to the traitor Aizen. She felt tears prick her eyes but she blinked them away harshly. She couldn't allow her emotions to be the death of her.
She couldn't give Gin the satisfaction of knowing how much he'd hurt her.
Oh, Rangiku knew that Gin was the last person who would want to hurt her; before everything went wrong he had even hated to see her get hurt in a spar. Some of her best memories had been after she'd broken one bone or another and Gin would always fuss over her in bed, feeding her dried persimmons and sake, and pretty much do anything she wanted until she got better.
It was also when she was sick that he'd bought her her signature scarf. Rangiku wasn't wearing it that day, though. She hadn't wanted Gin to think that she still held any feelings for him. Even though she did.
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Feeling most of her torso being blown away was more painful than Rangiku could have guessed. She knew that if she had paid any attention at all to her anatomy classes, she would probably be far more terrified; but as it was all Rangiku could do was gasp for breath that wouldn't come, and blame Gin for all her problems.
Hinamori was doing her best, as well, but all Rangiku could think about was that if only Aizen had choked to death before Gin and she had ever become shinigami—then her friends wouldn't be hurt. Then she wouldn't be hurt. Then Gin might have never betrayed her.
Rangiku would never forget—as long as she lived—the feel of her dearest friend's familiar strong back floating out of her arms until she finally had to let go. The sound of him saying she could have held on longer. Rangiku had wanted to. In the days after, she jumped at every sound, thinking he had come back for her. But it never happened, and Rangiku wasn't strong enough to just abandon Seireitei and go after him.
So she had to give him up. And as Rangiku lay back against the ground, she knew that she'd be forgetting him soon enough.
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Death had never really bothered Gin that much. There was only one person's death he really feared, and that was his Ran-chan's. Even his own was nothing more than a curiosity for the man.
As long as his Ran-chan was safe, he would be willing to do anything to keep that way. Including a suicide mission where—if he wasn't killed by the target—he'd be killed by the employer. All on the promise that his Ran-chan would be kept safe.
They'd lied, but if he finished this soon enough—and if Rangiku had her scarf—he'd be able to save her.
Him and Aizen went around and around parrying, stabbing, around and around again. That is, until Gin conceived of a desperate plan, and just impaled himself on Kyoka Suigetsu.
"This is the end, Sousuke, it's been fun."
"Why, Gin?"
Gin just smiled—a real smile, one he reserved for one special person—and said, "Ya know why, Sousuke." And with that, Aizen was stabbed from behind by Ichigo and from the front by Gin.
He knew he didn't have much time left, even as he pulled Kyoka Suigetsu out. Unohana was there, and he knew that if he left the sword in, there was a chance he could be saved. Gin didn't want that. All he wanted was for his precious Ran-chan to survive.
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Rangiku drifted back into the real world as her head was lifted up and onto a familiar lap. She still couldn't see, and her breath was coming short and shallow. A whispered chant later and she could breathe a tiniest bit better. She coughed.
"I-is it over, Gin?" she wheezed, trying to focus on his face. It was like looking through an old bubbled window.
A large hand traveled over her cheek; it was wet and warm. Rangiku could smell the coppery scent of blood, if only faintly. None of her senses were working too well.
"It's over, Ran-chan. Aizen's dead. Inoue-san was saved. Everything is gonna be alright. Ya just have to get patched up, then we can go home." The hand went over her hair, and she felt it grow heavy and wet. If Rangiku could have raised a hand she would have slapped him.
"I'm going to die, Gin… And that's not my blood…" Rangiku coughed, causing spasms of pain to shoot through her whole body. "…You always were a fucking liar…" Rangiku's head lolled to the side—toward the wet warmth of Gin's body.
Gin pet Rangiku's orange—and increasingly red—hair. "So ya always tell me, Ran-chan." An uncharacteristic tear slipped out of a closed eye. Still, his voice didn't waver, "Why aren't ya wearin' the scarf I gave ya, Ran-chan?"
She laughed—which turned quickly into a devastating cough that left her gasping for air that wouldn't come—"You gave it"—gasp—"to me. Why"—gasp—"would I wear it today?"
"Ah, ya little idiot," Gin berated himself, staring up into the sky. "Ya should've stitched it into all her clothes, too." He bent his head back down to look at Rangiku. "That coulda saved ya, ya know."
"Y-you'd still"—gasp—"be dead,"—gasp—"Gin. I"—gasp—"love you."—gasp—"It wouldn't"—gasp—"be living"—gasp—"without you,"—gasp—"you bastard." Rangiku's vision blacked out and she breathed out, "I can't see you anymore, Gin," with a little sob that accentuated her ragged breaths. "I'm scared…" she whimpered.
He leaned over until his breath mingled with Rangiku's erratic ones. "There's no need to be scared, Ran-chan. I'm here, I'll protect ya," and with that promise he closed the gap between them.
Rangiku's eyes stared straight ahead, filled with tears, and gradually lost all spark of life. A tear fell down her cold cheek. Gin didn't move away, not even when Yamamoto Genryuusai lit him and Rangiku's corpse on fire with his Ryuujin Jakka, not even when a not quite sane Hitsugaya tried to cut away his own corpse from Rangiku's. They were together in death.
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A few years later, in the Human World…
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A little girl named Kikuko frowned when she saw the neighborhood bullies pushing around a boy she vaguely remembered had moved into her neighborhood a few months ago. They were always teasing her about her hair—it was a pretty red, Kikuko liked it—and that's what it looked like they were doing again.
The boy had blonde hair that almost looked silver in the right light and blue eyes when he stopped squinting. Kikuko thought he might need glasses, like her daddy.
"Hey you bullies leave him alone!" she yelled. Kikuko picked up a rock and sent it rocketing into one of the boys.
"Ahh! Run! It's the red-headed demon girl!" screamed the leader and they scattered. Kikuko sent another rock at him for calling her names. Then she turned to the boy she just saved with a smile on her face.
"Hi! I'm Kikuko. Why were they beating you up?" The boy looked up at her with a strange smile on his face.
"My name is Sterling," he replied with a heavy European accent. "They found me talking to that man over there, but they could not see him. They said I must be a freak for talking to myself. But there really is a man there."
Kikuko nodded and said, "Yeah, he says his name is Shiro. He comes around sometimes. He likes talking to me, he says. He says I remind him of a friend who went away. Mama says that he's probably a ghost, 'cause she can't see him neither."
Sterling nodded. "He does not seem to like me." Kikuko turned to the ghost and stuck out her tongue while pulling down a lower eyelid. The ghost twitched and frowned.
"Well, he's a big meanie. Come on, Mama bought dried persimmons yesterday. They're my favourite! You can have some too if you ask real nicely." Kikuko grabbed Sterling's hand and started pulling him along. The boy blushed, and his strange smile melted into something a bit more real.
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I just had to write this. I know I dragged out Rangiku's death scene a little bit—okay, a lot. And then I felt so bad that I killed off my favourite couple that I had to write the little ending. In case you hadn't noticed, Kikuko is Rangiku, and Sterling is Gin. If anyone can guess who Shiro is, you're probably not going to get a cookie. I can't bake very well. And it's not very hard to guess. Your first guess is probably right.