Characters: Gin, Tousen
Pairings
: implied GinRan
Warnings/Spoilers
: Spoilers for Soul Society and Arrancar arcs.
Timeline
: During Arrancar arc
Disclaimer
: I don't own Bleach.


A crash of glass, and the ceramic flowerpot was on the floor, potting soil spilling out, shards of glazed, white fired clay flying out everywhere, the poor flowers, stalks crushed, spreading across the floor.

Gin sighed.

No one quite knew where he had gotten chrysanthemums on Hueco Mundo, no one was asking, and Gin was most certainly not telling. It really wasn't like anyone cared about where he had gotten flowers, anyway, not when there were more important things to be concerned about.

Tousen had knocked the flowerpot off the table accidentally while reaching for some papers beyond it in the control room; anyone could have had a slip-up like that.

"I'm sorry," the blind man apologized grudgingly. Plainly the idea of apologizing to Gin about anything wasn't exactly palatable to him. In a mutter, he added, "It was a waste of water anyway."

Gin frowned in his direction, and knelt, scooping two of the butter yellow flowers up in his hand. The crushed stalks bled sharp-smelling green blood. He traced a finger across the soft, delicate golden petals of one of the heads. They would all most likely die soon.

Tousen seemed to sense Gin's emotional disquiet, for his head swiveled in the direction of the taller man and he asked, "Do you miss her?"

Considering Tousen's grief for his fallen friend, one would think that he might have been sympathetic, but instead, there was almost a note of accusation in his voice, as though Gin didn't have the right to miss anyone.

Gin didn't answer, as he plucked the rest of the chrysanthemums up off of the floor. He would find a vase or a glass or something, and put them in water. That would keep the golden flowers alive for a little longer.

He was trying to preserve the life of something fragile. Surely Tousen could understand that.