Disclaimer: I don't own BLEACH
Once A Thought of Love
(Gin)MatsuHitsu
Matsumoto Rangiku had been in love before.
Once upon a time perhaps, so too had Ichimaru Gin.
Of course, in the times when cases of love could be easily confused with other, less beautiful emotions, neither truly knew. If Gin had remembered a time he could consider love it had only barley become a whisper, one which died on his lips as he died before her eyes.
Rangiku only truly understood the feelings that had come over her since that day when she went out at night. Drowning herself into blissful intoxication, laughing at her friends, and wondering, deep under the isolation of the facades she'd created; why the hell had he left her all alone in a world they only really understood together? So fuck him. She decided she'd drink herself into oblivion until the memories were of snow and childhood friends, and happiness. Not of betrayal, and swords - and sorries.
Eyes like ice, she'd thought. What a fitting thought for sure a slick man as Ichimaru Gin.
Rangiku stumbled down the street back to the tenth division well into the early hours of the morning. Holding her sleeping captain as she went and entirely too sober for her liking, but then, Rangiku had had a very hard time getting drunk lately anyways. She suspected it was her captain's doing. Before the final fight, Tōshirō had never gone out with her, now, he never left her side. She supposed he probably watered down her drinks as he went to go get them for the table. He himself did not drink, and probably never would. Rangiku thought that maybe that was her fault. He was her superior officer in terms of rank, but Rangiku was older, and Tōshirō had always looked to her for matters of maturity, weather he was aware of it or not. She had not left a good impression on him for alcohol use, and as she stepped into shunpo to get home faster, she thought that maybe that was not such a bad thing.
When dealing with hardship her captain would handle it on his own until Rangiku was forced to wear a scarf and hat on even the hottest of summer afternoons, and when the climate became so frosty even he could not bare it, he'd search out his lieutenant and in those instances he was not her captain and she not his lieutenant. Instead, he was a frustrated and broken child and she was a much more somber answer to his problems.
Rangiku sighed, and now he was returning the favor. Because she was far past broken at this point, and he apparently refused to let her handle her problems the only way she felt comfortable doing so: intoxication.
When they reached the tenth division's captain's quarters Rangiku set her captain on the couch they shared and shook him lightly. Thinking mildly about how relaxed he was in sleep, and envying the dark that shrouded him in his quarters at night for seeing him like this every evening. His eyes opened hazily and he grunted, rolling over into the crease of the couches back. He was so small it was not hard for him to snuggle into it. His eyes were a color not unlike Gin's Rangiku thought - that is, when Gin's eyes had changed to the frostiest of blues, and were not their occasionally starting blood red - Rangiku shook him again.
"We're home taichou!" It was forced happiness and cheer in her voice, and at it Tōshirō's eyes snapped open and he faced her, looking hurt.
"Don't act that way with me Matsumoto." His words were clipped, but Rangiku knew he was asking that for once she not be fake with him. She averted her eyes. Had it gotten colder?
"Silly taichou, I've not idea what you mean?" She smiled at him, knowing he wouldn't buy it no matter how hard she tried to be chipper for his sake. When the air became frostier, she spoke again. "Anyways, it's very late, and I should be off to bed." She waved her hand mildly in the air, and avoided his gaze as she turned around, feeling his eyes on her as she went. He so rarely came to her nowadays, and that may have been a good thing. He was more mature now than he had been. Even so recently as before the war. He'd grown, and she'd let herself fall. It wasn't his burden, she would not let him see her sad when she could avoid it. She turned toward the door. "Good night!" Like wind, she was gone. The surrounding air was very cold as Tōshirō sat up, looking at the vacant room.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō had very probably been in love since his first days in the tenth division.
In love with a woman bitterly who was in love with another.
Removing his captain's haori he hung it by the door and walked back to the couch, curling up.
As much as he'd like to deny it, Rangiku was very important to him. . . and their division. . . but mostly him, and he was concerned for her. Which was not his responsibility she had said, as well as most of the other captain's who'd forced the information out of him. But he was not a child. In the human world he would be considered so old that others would readily come to him for information and his wisdom. Naivety was something he so rarely displayed. As a shinigami, he had very little experience or life skills, but as an emotional being, he could see the pain behind his lieutenant's eyes. And he cursed the man who put it there with every fiber of his being.
"Now now, Tōshirō,"
A chill crept up Tōshirō's back as he whirled around. The room was very quiet, very still, and eerily shadowed. Tōshirō inched his hand toward his zanpakuto. That voice.
"Suprised ya, did I?"
And suddenly there he was. Gin stretched over the back of the couch Tōshirō occupied with a slinky form that left Tōshirō thinking he was very much like the foxes and snakes he was so readily compared to.
"You're not real." Tōshirō stated, though he knew it to be false. Ichimaru Gin was not alive. That was not to say he wasn't real standing behind him now.
"Other shinigami may not know it like you and I do Tōshirō, but yer smart, and ya know that vanquished souls can be called when they're so desperately needed." The spirit of Gin walked around the couch and plopped down next to Tōshirō, relaxing into an intimidating spread. His eyes opened a fraction of an inch to show piercing blue. His smile, ever present, seemed smaller than usual, probably because this was Tōshirō Fate had brought him to console, and he'd much rather not console anyone but a certain strawberry blonde.
"It's not suppose to be possible." Tōshirō stated stiffly, scooting over a bit. Gin's grin expanded slightly.
"Yer not happy to see me little captain?"
"No." Tōshirō stated rather flatly.
"Where'd ya think I was ganna go when my soul died? Hell? That's very harsh captain. Aizen? Maybe. But me? Never." His grin was face splitting for a moment and then was very suddenly nonexistent, his eyes peaked open again and Tōshirō was frozen with fear for this dead man. "I gotta talk quickly, cause these trips are suppose to be short," He stated evenly, a sliver of something frightening rested in the back of his voice that had Tōshirō shivering "I know you love Rangiku like I love her. And maybe if I were alive I'd kill ya very soundlessly for it," He grinned at this, but Tōshirō had yet to find the humor in his words. "I guess that being dead means I can't be by her like I like to. So I'm ganna ask ya, little captain, to protect her from her pain. It's important to me, ya know, very few things are important to me, but Rangiku is." He grinned his foxy grin and Tōshirō was concerned that maybe he had heard wrong. "She's not really ready for ya yet, yer still small in her eyes, I know cause she's told me. . . When she comes around though, ya better say yes and never let go. Cause I'll be back here to slaughter ya if she ever hears another sorry." Tōshirō watched as the creepy spirit grinned at the dark room. "That's all I got." Gin turned to him then, his smile wide and hollow and frightening, he raised his hand to Tōshirō chest and stuck his hand through. Tōshirō's body went cold instantly, a sense of dread filtering in his chest where is heart lie. "Ya break her heart, little captain, and I'll crush yers." The sensation faded as Gin did, and when he was gone Tōshirō was panting hard and clutching his chest.
He sat for several minutes, staring at nothing, letting Gin's words fill the void of the room. He should have been terrified, hollow, quivering at the experience, but as Tōshirō went over Gin's words, he was amazed by the accuracy and truth. And silently, he thanked the man with a fox smile. He would not let Rangiku fall into the depression at lost love, because eventually, years maybe, centuries even, he'd provide her with a new love. And he wouldn't let her drink, and perhaps he'd finally get her to do paper work. But mostly, he'd get her to smile real smiles, and he'd fulfill Gin's request. Because Rangiku was worth that at least, and so much more.
Matsumoto Rangiku had been in love before.
Once upon a time perhaps, so too had Ichimaru Gin.
But Hitsugaya Tōshirō had very probably been in love since his first days in the tenth division, and with only one women.
I wrote this in my iPod one day while taking a walk. I'm not entirely sure if I like it. . . but I figure what's the harm in posting it? It's not up to my normal standards of writing, so we'll just say it's a writing release for the scrap folder if ever FF .net had one.