A little-known fact about Gin was that he absolutely loved the violin. He loved the sound that came from the strings when the bow was dragged across them, and he loved it when the sounds changed depending on the finger positions. He loved the shape of the instrument; in addition to being practical, it was aesthetically pleasing. Every single one he had ever seen was taken care of to the point where their wood shined.
But mostly, he loved the look of absolute peace that Rangiku took on whenever she heard the violin.
He hadn't particularly had an opinion on the instrument before he had been told that Rangiku loved it more than any other. It was her favorite, and it became Gin's favorite, too, not long after.
He learned how to play only to please her. He did it in just a few days, and on her birthday, three years after they met; he walked into their little cottage with the instrument tucked under his arm and excitement coursing relentlessly through his veins.
She eyed the package warily when he came in, and not without good reason. He'd been known to bring home snakes before, after all. Or something equally revolting that he had discovered that morning could be lurking under the covering, since that was just how a young boy behaved.
He opened his eyes and sat across from her at their little table, passing an apple her way while he set the dried permissions in the center of the table for them to share. She ate a bit of both happily- it was rare for them to have something other than the dried permissions and bread if they were lucky.
"Happy birthday," he told her quietly, smiling faintly.
She grinned wildly at him and nodded in the direction of the covered violin. "What'd you have there?" she questioned, her voice light.
His smile widened as he pulled the cover off and presented the expensive piece to her. Her beautiful gray eyes grew wide in shock, happiness and the slightest bit of worry. "Gin!" she whispered, reaching for it carefully and running her fingers over those delicate strings. "Where on earth did you find the money for this?"
He shrugged, and wasn't about to tell her that he'd stolen it from some noble that was wandering the streets a week ago. Instead, he told her, "Odd jobs 'ere and there, Ren-chan. They paid well enough."
Rangiku remained silent for several moments before she handed it back to him. "I know you too well- you wouldn't get me that if you couldn't play it for me," she told him- a subtle request for a song.
And so he played. He took the bow from his lap and raised the violin to his shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He dragged the bow across the strings, moving his finger appropriately for each note. It was the most complicated song he knew, even though it wasn't much, it was for Rangiku, he could tell. He dragged out some of the notes to keep that look of serenity on her face. That rare look of peacefulness and adoration.
He wished he knew if the look was for him or for the instrument. He knew logically it wasn't for him.
Still, he played the song over and over, changing the ending notes a little bit so he could switch back to the beginning without her noticing. He nearly missed the notes quite a few times, and his arms were hurting, and he knew that he had screwed it up sometimes by forgetting a note or a whole verse, but it didn't really matter, because Rangiku didn't really seem to care.