Sometimes, Hisagi wonders why he tries so hard.

He tries to be the best man he can be; the best Shinigami, the best friend. He's a perfectionist, and when things don't go the way he wants, he fixes them. He thinks he's pretty good at that, fixing damaged things, broken things. People, relationships.

He can't fix them all, though.

Hisagi mulls over a cup of rice wine late one night, in his favorite bar just outside the Seireitei. Rukongai has the best sake he's ever tasted. He's alone, and has finished two flasks, now working on a third. His face is flushed and his speech is slurred, but his thoughts are crisp.

"Please, Megumi."

She looks to him with kind eyes, the color of a winter sky. Her hair is dark and her lips are full, rosy.

"I'm sorry, Shuuhei. I don't feel for you what you feel for me. I can't change that."

He drops her hands.

"Of course," he says, bitterly, "I'm sorry I troubled you. Good night."

Now, he sits and drinks, going through the other women in his mind, his mood becoming lower with each one he remembers. He wonders what's so awful about him to make every woman he gets close to push him away. Hisagi frowns and stares into his cup of rice wine.

Someone sits beside him and puts their arm about his shoulders.

Hisagi jumps and looks over, grumpily, about to tell whomever touching him to go away. He opens his mouth to do so before his eyes catch up with his brain. Rangiku sits, smiling cheerily, her golden hair glowing in the lamplight. Her blue eyes shine as she takes the flask away from him.

"Hey, Shuuhei! Imagine my surprise, as I walked in, ready to drink until the dawn – and I find you here, sulking! This isn't like you, Hisagi."

Shuuhei blushes and looks to his cup again. Her skin is warm and her bosom is pressed snugly against his side.

"I was just out for a drink, Miss Rangiku. That's all."

He looks at her from the corner of one eye, and her eyebrow is raised. Her full lips curve into a knowing smirk.

"Women troubles?"

Hisagi chokes, and she laughs.

"I knew it! Who was it this time, Shuuhei? That Megumi girl? Psh," she waves one hand and grins, "forget about her. You two would have made an awful couple. She's a huge snob, you know."

Hisagi sighs. "Maybe."

Rangiku leans in, her breasts pressing harder against him, and Hisagi's face turns a deeper shade of red.

"Oh, forget about her, Shuuhei. There are always other pretty women," she winks in a suggestive fashion. "Count your blessings that I just happen to be one of them."

Shuuhei's head snaps up, and he sputters. "Miss Rangiku! What are you saying?"

Her golden head lolls down as she sighs, heavily, gripping his arm and hauling him to his feet. She guides his arm about her waist, and smiles. Hisagi grins back, sheepishly.

"Come home with me, Shuuhei. You'll forget about them soon enough."

They leave, side by side, the moon shining above them.