a/n: well my heirverse vacation lasted really long huh? no escape from this kraken even for me apparently.
Notes/warnings: very minor passing mentions of suicidal thoughts. References to a scene from Consequences (Game vol 2) - unpublished at the time of posting this chapter but coming soon. I needed drink for the second Aizen section because it was a hard scene, very heavy. The end of Gin's last section bleeds into my other piece Crystalline, so you may want to go read that when you're done here. If you do, Get your tissues I will break you with that if this chapter doesn't. [it will get better for our boys, i promise you. we just have to wade through a whole lotta sad first]
Anyway enjoy the story and as always feedback is nice and keeps us writers writing&posting. I will even take a 3 word comment of "how dare you", it means i did my job well :)
Chapter 11: Carolina Jasmine for Separation
Tick.
Aizen watched the seconds tick by, slower than a snails pace. His gaze fixed blankly on the face of the clock. Willing the hands to stop. For Time to cease moving. A broken man wishing for the impossible.
Tick.
Every second seemed to last for an eternity now, since Gin had gone. Cut him out of his life. Possibly for good. Most likely for good. If the gladiolus and the chessboard were anything to go by. One last big Fuck You in the language of flowers. Their language of flowers.
Tick.
The mug of tea had gone cold in his hands. His intention of drinking it long gone. He could easily use a kidou spell to heat it up again, but he didn't really see the point. There wasn't much point to anything without Gin.
Tick.
The time was ticking slowly onwards. Soon he would have to get up off the sofa and leave the house. He'd have to go to work.
Tick.
Face another day without Gin by his side.
Tick.
And then come back home to an empty house. And all the painful reminders of what he'd so carelessly thrown away.
Tick.
He didn't know if he could do it all over again today. But as they said, 'Time's arrow neither stands still nor reverses. It only marches forward'. So he had no other choice but to to drag himself out to face the new day.
A day he wished would never start.
That he wished he didn't have to be awake or alive enough to have to get through.
And face the consequences of his poor life choices as he closed the door behind him and walked down the street. Still wishing that Time would stop for him. The rational part of his brain already knowing that Time waited for no-one.
Least of all him. Who'd made the worst mistake in the world. And would probably pay for it for the rest of his life.
. . .
Several days had passed since Yachiru's last visit, and Gin was feeling a little stronger. The pain of his world's collapse had dulled to a throbbing ache now, making breathing and existing that little bit easier as he adjusted to a life without Aizen Sousuke. Surprised as he was Gin even could physically exist without him. He'd even ventured out of Ran and Shuu's house a few times. Mostly trips to the shop to buy food and essentials. Today's trip out was to the florists down the road. To gather offerings of gratitude and appreciation for his friends. For all they'd done for him.
He brought what he could from the florist. What he couldn't get from them, he plucked from people's front gardens. The hour was still early and he doubted any of the residents would miss a flower of two.
Although in Gin's opinion, if they didn't want their flowers stolen, they shouldn't leave them on display in front of their houses for any old sod to come and nick.
Gin sniffed his flora as he walked back, stopping to clip an ivy branch and tie his homemade bouquet together. He'd picked a good selection. Or stole, if you wanted to get technical and arsey about it.
He admired his work as he walked back, thinking they'd look nice in a vase on the kitchen table. He even had the perfect vase for them, too. The big blue crystal one – and he was just in the door about to start hunting for it when he remembered he wasn't in his own home. That the vase was still in his old house.
That if he wanted it, he'd have to go and fetch it.
He froze mid-move. In fact, there were a few things he needed from home. Most notably his own clothes. He couldn't keep borrowing Shuuhei's forever. He wanted his own things, his own clothes, his own life – or whatever was left of it anyway. The parts of himself he could salvage from the wreckage, at least.
He shook the grim thought away. First, he'd sort the flowers. Habit made him find a vase from Ran's glassware cupboard, strip the leaves from the bottom of the stems, and cut the stems at an angle before placing them in the vase. Arranging them just-so before filling it up with water.
Pleased with his work, he sat the vase on the kitchen table, just in time for Ran to come in.
"Oh! Nice flowers!" she beamed.
"Yeh. I wanted t'say thanks fer bein' good friends t'me."
"Oh, is that the meaning of the flowers?" she asked, curious.
"Well, the whole thing translates as 'I'm grateful for your friendship and loyalty in this difficult time."
He pointed to the small white bellflowers. "Gratitude." Then the acacia. "Friendship." The ivy. "Fidelity or loyalty." And then the blackthorn. "Difficulty." Then finally, he pointed to the little branch of white poplar. "Time."
Rangiku smiled warmly at him. "Gin, that's beautiful. Thankyou."
Gin smiled and shrugged. Just pleased to have someone else to share the language of flowers with. "Least I could do."
"Well then, I guess I better respond in kind," she smiled. "Do you have your dictionary I could borrow?"
Gin swallowed. Pausing a moment. "It's... at home," he admitted. "I'd need t'go an' get it. Along with a few other things."
"Oh,"Rangiku said. "Do you want me to go with you while you get your things?"
Gin thought for a moment, considering the offer. "No, s'okay. I think I need t'go myself," he said slowly. Feeling the weight of it all pressing down on him.
"I understand," she said softly. "But let us know if you need any help carrying anything, yeah?"
Gin nodded. Smiled though his heart wasn't in it. Nothing was in it anymore. "Thanks, I will," he said. "Though I'm gonna need an empty box for me stuff, if ya got one."
"Hm. I think we have one somewhere," she told him. "I'll go grab it for you."
. . .
Time crawled along slower than an elderly snail the whole work day. Worst of all was the fact he had to keep looking at Hinamori's smiling face and pretend like his whole goddamn world wasn't falling apart. That his marriage wasn't crumbling to dust and ash around him. Hinamori, who was his biggest mistake, his one regret (or the only one worth noting anyway from a list of endless things. The only one which was really his own damn fault). His one Tremendous Fuck Up that he couldn't even blame the voice for because it was all him.
She haunted him like a persistent ghost.
The bright yellow roses she'd placed in a vase on his desk only serving to rub it in his face and turn his stomach. Because her life was pretty-fucking-perfect and his was just a train wreck.
Not that he had anyone to blame for that but himself, mind. But he knew he deserved worse than this. He deserved to be strung up, to have Gin beat the living shit out of him, to be a pariah among all who knew him...
He'd gotten off far too lightly, for all of the pain he'd caused.
For all the heartache he'd given Gin. Not just now, but for all the time they'd been together.
Because how many times had he failed to be what Gin needed?
Too many. Far too many. Simply put, the voice was right. He simply wasn't good enough for Gin. He just didn't deserve someone that pure and good in his life.
Gin had been a brilliant ball of shining white light, a lovely moon, and all he'd done was poison that.
Because he was a tar pit. A vile, horrible thing, corrupting everything it fucking touched. He was poison.
You're a tar pit. The voice had said. You're a deep dark pit that good things fall into and suffocate in. And when you've suffocated every last good thing in your life, you'll drown in your own misery too.
And by the time you realise you're sinking, it'll be too late. you''ll drown. And you'll have nobody to blame but yourself.
And it had been right.
He simply didn't deserve someone as pure and good in his life as Gin.
That he could live with. He had no choice but to live with that.
What he couldn't live with was the big gaping maw in his chest. The hollow, empty ache. That desolate feeling that sank right through to his bones. Settling in the marrow. Cold. Like ice. Like his heart should have been before it melted.
Like his heart should have stayed.
Now he was paying the price for that, too. Just as he'd paid the high cost to get Gin and keep him. Rescue him from certain death and keep him from the monster within that wanted to take Gin out of existence.
He sighed. It seemed he'd paid many costs for Gin. And he'd be paying countless more.
At the time, they'd been worth it.
At the time, they'd been the only choice.
At the time, the cost hadn't been an issue.
He closed his eyes gently. Tried to tell himself that this was what he wanted.
For the best, he told himself. It's for the best.
As if though he told himself the lie enough times, then maybe he'd start to believe it.
But he was a bad liar. He could fool anyone else, all except for the man in the mirror.
A bitter irony, really.
And a bitter pill to swallow, that he might never see his Gin again. Let alone get him back. The odds were impossible, if not slim. Most likely non-existent.
For the best, he repeated. A lie and a bad one at that. But lies were all he had now. Lies and so many debts to pay. And the vain belief that maybe over time Gin might come to forgive him for failing, or failing that, then at least that it'd stop hurting so much.
In the meantime, he tried to focus on his work. The clock on the wall going
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
. . .
Rangiku returned to the living room as promised, carrying an empty box for all of his things, and the instructions to bring back anything he considered important.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" she asked, full of sympathetic concern. "I know it'll be hard..."
Gin took the box from her and nodded his thanks. "No... no, s'alright, Ran. I think this's somethin' I need to do on me own."
She nodded and squeezed his shoulder gently. "Alright. But if you need e for anything, just come and find me, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks, Ran."
"Anytime," she smiled. Though underneath it he could tell she was sad. He understood that. He was sad too.
"Well, better now than later," he said, lifting the box. "I'll be back soon."
She nodded at him again, still smiling sadly. "Take all the time you need," she told him. "I'll be here when you get back."
He nodded acknowledgement and then left, carrying his empty box and heavy heart back towards the place he used to call home.