A/N: So I'm convinced. I'm starting to become addicted to GinRan stories. There are 3 people I wish, like really wish, hadn't died. Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, and Gin. Gin's death is currently the saddest, therefore I write happy stories where he's alive by some miracle and is there to make his Ran-chan happy. *Sigh* If only..

Disclaimer: I say this with a heavy heart, I don't own Bleach. If I was blessed with that talent to create such an anime and own it, there would be less death and more romance. *Sigh..* Damn you, Tite Kubo. What you got against love!

Insanity

The sky was light purple, informing the shinigami below that it was getting late and soon the crescent moon would rise and replace the hot, setting sun. Spots of pink and orange remained from the earlier sunset, but were fading away and meshing together with the purple. Shinigami walked along the streets of the Seireitei, some running errands, some heading home, some returning to their respectful divisions for late night working. One shinigami watched from her two story apartment as others went on with their day, staring at the darkening sky, not really paying attention to anything. This had become a habit for the past few months. She would tell her Taicho she didn't feel well, that she would be staying home today. It wasn't a complete lie. At first he complained, but gave up and abandoned his own office to train in a distant cave.

Ever since Hinamori was impaled by his own blade thanks to a twisted illusion, Captain Hitsuguya hadn't been the same. He rarely stayed in the office anymore. When he did it was for a full 24 hours to do the paperwork that had piled up. The rest of the time he was training until he collapsed, got sent to the 4th division by his lieutenant who would come by every night to carry him, and return the next day. That was their new daily routine since the war ended, and Rangiku hated it. She had become antisocial gradually, and her captains mood only made it worse. Everyone was so busy since Aizen's defeat, repairing buildings, relationships, themselves even. Rangiku wasn't like them. The damage done to her was not reparable.

The sky was now a dull blue, slowly fading into a dark navy as the stars emerged one by one. She looked at the moon and shuddered. A crescent moon. Just like the one in Hueco Mundo. Standing abruptly, she walked to her over sized vanity, full of cosmetics and makeup. She sat on the little stool and studied her features. Long, strawberry blonde hair that rolled down her back and reached her massive chest. Fair, creamy skin. Voluptuous curves. Black bags under silvery blue/purple eyes. Yes, she needed sleep. She didn't care anymore. She brushed her hair mindlessly for the umpteenth time that day, fixed her foundation, adjusted her robes and returned to the window.

The streets were empty now. She thought of her Taicho, and decided to just send a hell butterfly to Hanataro as a reminder to go get him soon, and then resumed spacing out. She thought of her friends briefly, wondering how they were. Hisagi had devoted himself to work, though since he was without a Taicho she understood. Kira was the same way. Ikkaku and Yumichika were busy training the new recruits and helping out Zaraki when needed, which wasn't much. They were never her close friends anyway, she didn't expect them to visit her. The SWA had temporarily stopped meetings to help rebuild the Soul Society. Even Captain Kyoraku seemed too busy to have a drink. She was alone. Just like the old days..

The smell of rain shook her from her thoughts and deepened her sorrow. The streets glistened with water and storm clouds billowed in, avoiding the moon, tormenting her. She suddenly had an urge, one she thought she never would have again, and hopped out the window, flash stepping out of the Seireitei and into the Rukongai. Once she entered the familiar forest, she slowed down into a dull walk, dragging her feet through the mud. Her brain had switched off, she felt like a robot mindlessly working, and then she stopped outside of an empty, old shack. It was dark, no one had inhabited it since then. Her heart beat quickened as she opened the wooden door, and she inhaled sharply. It smelled the same. Like her. Like him. She dropped too her knees and began sobbing into her hands. She was alone, like this little shack, dark and abandoned.

She cried for what seemed like hours, the rain came down harder as if mocking her. She closed the door to keep the cold air away and used a small amount of kido to light a fire. Nothing had changed inside the shack. The old blankets still remained in a heap by the corner, a basket that once held dried persimmons was next to them, the ceiling and walls had holes in them. She breathed in again and regretted it as she fell into another fit of sobs. The smell of memories, her childhood, him. Though he wasn't here as much as she had been, his smell over powered hers, as if he was just here yesterday. That thought made her stomach turn and her heart fill with false hope. He was gone, long gone, forever. He had died in her arms, in her eyes. And yet...

He lived in her heart, existed in her mind. Perhaps the loneliness had drove her insane. Maybe she had lost her mind and sense of rationality. But she didn't want to believe that. Because the memories were so real, his scent was so fresh, and if she concentrated hard enough, she could almost feel him. His presence. His reiatsu..

She jolted up, extinguishing the kido and leaned against the door, as if listening for anything. The rain was pouring too hard, so she slammed the door open and looked around. Her heart was pounding now, she felt it. She felt him. And then it vanished. She chased it, through the trees, through the mud, through the unforgiving storm. She squinted, and swore she saw his white espada uniform, his silver hair, until she approached an overflowing river and everything vanished. He was gone. She collapsed from running so much, and her breath hitched as she noticed blood in the dirt. She could tell from the splatter that whoever it came from was moving in the direction she was chasing. The rain hadn't washed it away, because it was fresh. She quickly ripped a leaf off a bush and scooped the bloodied dirt onto it, cupping it in her hands to protect it, and ran back to the Seireitei. She had seen him, felt him, and now she had his blood. She just needed someone to confirm it.

Rangiku Matsumoto had gone insane.

A/N: Kind of a depressing first chapter, yeah? Don't worry, things will get better. In the next chapter Rangiku gets disappointing news, and tries to convince herself she isn't insane. Someone makes it very hard for her to believe that, however. Review!