Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Bleach characters.
Summary: A long forgotten voice calls, bringing him back to face an uncertain future. But continue he must, even if it means to make her cry.

WANDERING SOUL

"Though I go to you
ceaselessly along dream paths,
the sum of those trysts
is less than a single glimpse
granted in the waking world."

He opened his eyes to a world he thought had long stopped existing. What a silly thought, he realized. Worlds like this never stopped existing. Worlds like this are like dew drops to a morning glory. Worlds like this exist because souls like him exist.

He looked down and that's when he first felt the fineness of the sand buried between his toes. He was clad in an all white hakama over kimono and they flapped soundlessly in the wind. Above him was a black starless dome and he was in the center of it. He knelt down and gently cupped a handful of sand, watching it trickle through his fingers like the fine silver dust that they were. A deep forlorn feeling struck a cord within him and it crashed across the colorless desert like an invisible ocean wave.

Gin...

Of course, he thought. In worlds like this, he is never alone. He got back up on his feet and faced the direction of the voice that tugged at his insides. He watched a small sandstorm of silver dust swirl before him where the outline of a figure appeared and approached him at the same time. Soon, the figure stood mirroring Gin, clad in a similar outfit that flowed and met tattered ends.

"Shinsō..."

Gin's zanpakutō in spirit form stood before him in silence. There was a smile but beneath it there was also pain. Neither knew what to say, or rather both were waiting for the other to make the first sound. After all, Gin thought, it's been a hundred years...

"My, my Shinsō. It's been awhile!" Gin finally decided to break the silence and exclaimed with a wide grin. "How've ya been?"

Shinsō's expression did not change. His long silver hair hung over his shoulders. His cheekbones were sunken in and the highlight of his eyes were almost dull. He stared at his master like one would towards a stranger. Finally he spoke, lifting his airy voice as much as he could just so his message could get across if just for this one last time. "We both know you're better than that, Gin..."

Gin's smile faltered and his solemn gaze returned.

"You're right. Who am I trying to fool eh?" Gin said with a defeated look on his face. "You know me best." Clasping both hands together, hiding them behind the thick folds of his kimono sleeves, he gazed around his inner world through slitted eyes. "Has it truly been a hundred years, Shinsō?"

Shinsō nodded.

"I've really neglected you, haven't I?"

"You stopped hearing my voice. You blocked me out and lost touch with your true self. I became nothing but a tool to you."

"Don't say that, Shinsō..."

"Am I wrong? It is not a zanpakutō's will to defy its master. There was so much conflict between your thoughts and your actions that you decided it was best that you acted on your own. Like an unwilling victim, I fell into the mercy of your command and did your dirty work."

Gin's lips quivered, no longer able to contain the emotional struggle he had held inside himself for over a century. Sensing his deep inner turmoil, Shinsō reached for him but did not touch him.

"It's not too late for amendments."

"Wha-?"

"Get up, Gin."

Gin looked up from his tear streamed face tinged with a slight confusion. The wind of his inner world was picking up again. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed his zanpakutō's hand. Through that long forgotten touch, the bond between zanpakutō and master was reignited and he was beginning to understand.

"It's time to wake up, master..."

He opened his eyes to a world of rubble and stone. Fallen buildings were piled up all around him, their edges protruding like jagged teeth from the crimson soil. How long was I lying here? he wondered as he looked into the face of the aftermath of a certain war where smoke and dust still hung in the air, as unsettled as the commotion that had now taken a different turn. As his eyes roamed his surroundings, he realized he was all alone. That man whom he had betrayed Soul Society for was gone. He closed his eyes and sought Aizen's reiatsu which had been struck somewhere further away. Now it was clashing with... nothing. Strange... Gin thought before the vague memory of a pair of unwavering eyes that reflected a fearless soul caught up with him.

He started to prop himself up. His wounds no longer bled and have somehow closed up. Something's wrong though, he thought. He looked towards his right and there it was lying at a distance away. Its palm was facing upwards and the fingers looked as though it was still reaching out for something important. How strange his right arm looked now, separated from the rest of his being. Yet at the same time, it would be wrong to leave it as it is. Shinsō was still secured within his hakama, its life vibrating strongly within, something he had taken for granted.

He jumped slightly as a different wave of reiatsu wafted towards him. It carried an unmistakably familiar scent and his heart pumped faster as it steadily gained speed towards him. He desperately wanted to welcome its warmth and her embrace. He remembered the aching moments during his stay in Hueco Mundo when he was so far away from her. He endured it, believing wholeheartedly that it would pass as soon as he achieved his goal. That once he took back what was stolen, everything would be back to normal. With Aizen defeated, peace within Seireitei would resume and he and Rangiku could...

Rangiku... he thought, her name seeping like water into the dry cracked earth of his soul.

Her reiatsu was inching closer. Gin frowned, realizing that she was not alone. Intertwining with her reiatsu was that of a certain master healer. She must have traveled back to the Human World to get help.

"Get up, Gin! They mustn't see you like this!"

Gin stood up, debris and dust specked his tattered hakama. No time to dust them off, he must go. I must... he thought regretfully, I must leave her once more...

"You will meet again, Gin..."

"Will we, really?"

"..."

Gin cast a long lingering look behind towards the direction of Rangiku's approaching reiatsu. It was so full of strength and hope and anticipation for a better future, something that Gin now realized he could never possibly offer. She may love and accept him, but to the rest of Seireitei he was a traitor that must be accounted for his actions. To think that he could settle for normalcy after all he has done was utter foolishness. What if we had stayed in Rukongai? he wondered briefly before he shook his head and laughed at his own naïvety. All he can hope for right now is for her to understand.

Gomen na... Rangiku... He lamented silently while he drank her reiatsu in for one last time. Forgive me... trailed his final thoughts and not a single soul was there to witness the slight wavering of his form before he finally disappeared, leaving a small array of dust in his wake.

Where is he? was the only thought that ran through her mind. Her lips trembled, her eyes roamed the empty spot where she last left him. Her entire being was an encapsulation of disbelief and something else closing in onto madness gripped her, causing her to crumble upon her knees. Unohana Retsu stood behind her and gazed off at a distance, a knowing look upon her face. "He has left," was all she said of the wandering soul.

END

A/N: Reason why I wrote this was because I'd like to believe that Gin's still alive somewhere, wandering, probably doing some self-reflecting. I know Tite Kubo has already confirmed his death. It's tragic, though I have to admit it's one of the most beautiful moments in Bleach. The short poetry is a love poem of Ono no Komachi, translated into English. It's how I'd imagine Rangiku feels towards Gin. Hope you like what you read.