My first Bleach oneshot, and not half as good as I'd hoped it would be, but here goes anyway. This is set during the aftermath of the Soul Society arc.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
Rangiku rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers as her long hair splayed out all around her face. Somehow, an epidemic of headaches was always present on the scene when a sake buzz started to wear off; the insidious migraines always knew just when to strike, to maximize pain and discomfort.
Well, there's only one way to treat a hangover. With more sake.
The long glass blurred and mixed anger with bitterness with regret with pain. Rangiku closed her eyes as she tipped the glass up to her lips so she wouldn't see her emotions reflected in the alcohol.
Her hands were shaking. It was just the hangover, Rangiku told herself. Nothing more than the hangover. It had never happened to her before, but then, there were a lot of things happening that had never happened to Rangiku before. It was a plethora of "firsts", and she couldn't honestly say she liked all—or any—of them.
For a moment, she wondered where Kira was. Then she stopped wondering. Looking over to the other corner of the room, the slumped form pressed tightly up against the wall, fair hair over a mass of black, she knew where Kira was. He probably wouldn't be awake for another few hours.
A few shadows of darkness settled over the evening-tinted walls as deep purple light filtered in through the window. Rangiku ignored it, and instead cast her suddenly light-sensitive eyes out the window, ignoring the pain the light brought her eyes.
A brilliant shot of light came down, and Gin wrested his hand from her grip.
"Too bad… It would have been nice if my capture lasted a little longer…Farewell, Rangiku.
"Sorry."
He had been smiling, but not really.
Gin had always had the habit of disappearing without telling Rangiku where he was going, of shooting that creepy Cheshire Cat's smile at her even after all the times she had demanded he stop. Everyone had their quirks, and Gin's had been to be the quintessential weirdo of the Gotei Thirteen.
Hindsight was always perfect, and Rangiku knew how much it hurt.
She wasn't drinking because Gin had defected or because everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. She was drinking of something she wanted nothing more than to forget, longed to forget.
Rangiku was drinking because she found herself with the dubious distinction of being the first person Ichimaru Gin had ever apologized to…
…And actually meant it.