Author's Note:

AU in half-degree. Meaning: some aspects of canon material maintain, however a broad aspect of character life is changed. I.e those in series without known parents have parents.

Also, religiously speaking the theme of Questioning, Atheism, and Satanism; alongside Norse Mythology make an appearance. Those squeamish of religion being mixed in with canonical material have been warned. This is a work in progress and a daunting one. Of all the pairings I've shipped, Matsumoto x Hanatarou is by far the most challenging. In addition, setting is not thoroughly defined yet...still working on it.

General disclaimer: I don't own property of Bleach, all respective rights to Tite Kubo.

Language, OOC (potentially), and adult/mature content.


Ch. 01 - Semblance of Balance

8:45pm "Somewhere in a bar"

The ice in her scotch clinks slightly, condensation running down the glass, adding a small ring on the coaster. She swirls the glass once more, entrapped in her thoughts; fixating her blue orbs on the dripping water droplets.

"Isn't there something you can do to save him?!" She shouted.

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou, there's nothing we can do."

"Liar!" She screamed, her voice shaking with far more emotion to properly convey the depth of her mixed emotions; her fists shaking at her sides as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Liar!"

She swallows down the scotch, the thrum of the music and chatter nothing but a dull droning against her eardrums, the familiar burn of alcohol warming through her chest. Her nails clink on the glass mindlessly, as an old familiar ache yawns open-shattering the recurrent comfort of masking pain with intoxication.

"Ichimaru was a traitor, and deserved to die—"

"He died trying to protect me! Trying to protect all of us! He—"

"I will not hear such blasphemy!"

"—died trying to kill Aizen!"

"Take her to a holding cell!"

She lays her heaving head down on her weakening arms, groaning as she fights down the infectious memories. Her unwinding nerves bring out a shamed laughter, her self-loathing laughing at her own drunken memories.

"Fuck, I need to get laid." She murmurs to herself, snorting at her own reconciling attempt. She lifts her head, throwing back the rest of her drink, and slowly rises from her savored seat at the bar. "Now let's find a victim."

She steadies her weight against the bar counter, her legs wobbling more than she anticipated that they would after a few drinks.

"On second thought," she slurs to her feet, "better not do that."

She slid her feet against the flooring, hoping to steady her spiraling head. Her slender fingers slipped through long strands of strawberries kissed by the summer sun, grasping her scalp. She watched her feet tip and sway her body towards the nearest exit, dragging her scarf around her throat.

He was so much more than a traitor, her head whispered across the echoing music. She groaned to herself, pushing the thought anywhere but the forefront of her mind. Her balance faults to the left, her hand shooting to the nearest object to support her weight. A hand grasps at her elbow, holding her balance steady.

"My apologies," she sighs. "I've underestimated my limits."

"C'mon Rangiku, let's get you home."

Rangiku Matsumoto looks at the smaller woman next to her, fascinated by her grasp on her arm.

"Rukia, I don't want to." She says quietly. She wanted to scream it at the petite girl, and cursed herself for how pathetic her voice came across.

"Matsumoto-san, I have orders to take you back home." Rukia Kuchiki snaps defensively. "Whether you wish to or not, I have to bring you home now."

"Fine." Rangiku sighs, reluctantly allowing herself to be pulled along.

11:30pm "Home"

She pulls shut her curtains, ashes falling off her burning cigarette. She scatters the dead embers with her foot.

"Why can't I just pass out after drinking so much?" She muses to herself, padding softly over to her bed. "I don't want to think anymore."

Despite her efforts to avoid thinking, her mind traces sullenly over the brief conversation with Rukia; the she-devil dragging her back to prison.

"Why are you doing this to yourself again?"

"What? Drinking?" She scoffed, holding herself. "Since when did I not?"

"Matsumoto-san, I know things have changed since then, but you've seemed to have lost yourself."

"More like find myself." She huffed to her captor. The tiny woman's hand gripped her elbow harder.

"How so?"

Rukia sounded sincere, but Rangiku knew better. Trust no one.

"I am my own God." She stated bluntly. "That's all you need to know."

"Ah," she chuckles to herself, curling on her cot. "I am my own savior, my own semblance of balance."