A/N: I know I'm late on this chappy, had some things happen over the last week.
Ch 02: Reliance
"If montages could exist in our reality, I for one, will gladly abuse the shit out of 'em."
"Huh?"
Rangiku lifts her head to look at Rukia. The thump of bass in her ears, the smell of pot in her nose, and those violet eyes peering at her with such curiosity.
"I said," She starts again, heaving her weight up from the mattress. "if montages existed, I'd abuse them. Time just…drags on and on."
"Oh, we on some deep shit, are we?" Ichigo asks from the corner of the room.
"I mean, think about it." She snuffs her cigarette out in the ashtray between her and Rukia, looking between them. "We get together, smoke some pot, chill to some music, and repeat. Don't get me wrong guys, I'm cool with it—"
"After a while you get bored though." Rukia nods.
"Exactly!"
"Well my dude is supposed to be here in about fifteen," Ichigo smiles wide, a strangled laugh like Mathew McConaughey's comes from his throat. "So, things ought to liven up then."
Rangiku lays back again, staring into the ceiling. Rukia's face appears before her, headphones in hand.
"Here." She helps to slide them over Rangiku's ears. "Listen to that. You might like it."
Rangiku nods, interlocking her hands behind her head. She stares at the creamy peach colored ceiling a blend of Indie throttled with folk like music streaming into her ears. Images start to dance behind her eyes; palm treetops in blue skies, ghost town streets, broken bottles, and the faint smell of saltwater bodies.
"Iron and Wine." She murmurs. "I haven't heard them since…"
Her voice trails as memories begin to flood back. For a moment she is swept away to times when things were not as chaotic like the present. The handful of moments in childhood when her parents were more like parents than strangers; a time where love was not conditional. She brushes a hand under her eye, the salt burning.
Why God? Why have you forsaken me?
She sits up carefully, edging one side of the headphones behind her ear.
"You just had to play that." She says to Rukia.
"Oh, you knew them?" Rukia shifts closer to her.
"Yeah," Rangiku nods. "Pops likes them."
"I didn't know." Rukia says apologetically.
"Not your fault." Rangiku laughs softly. "But yes, I do like 'em regardless."
"Yo." There's a knock on the doorway.
"My man!" Ichigo jumps up, dapping the stranger up. "What's up, man?"
"Not shit." The gruff voice replies.
Rangiku turns her head towards the new voice, her blue eyes widening.
"You!" She sputters. "You go to that coffee shop!"
Brown eyes peer at her, a thin eyebrow raising slightly.
"And it's you," The stranger folds his arms across his chest, clad in black leather. "who are you again?"
Ichigo flits his eyes between them. "You two know each other?"
"Not personally." Rangiku recovers. "I just; I've seen him around town is all."
"Quite an eye-sore, eh?" A smirk greets her.
Rangiku flushes. "No, no."
She gets to her feet, outstretching her left hand.
"Matsumoto, Rangiku." She introduces herself. "Ichigo said you'd be by."
"Madarame, Ikkaku." He shakes her hand. "You always shake with your left?"
"Not necessarily." Rangiku chuckles a bit at her oddity.
Ikkaku's head dips into a short nod.
Rangiku sizes him up. He is not much taller than she, maybe by about five inches at most; his demeanor suiting more to that of a "ruffian." There is no sign of hair on his head, and red markings cover the flesh between the crease of his eyes nearing his thin eyebrows. His large hands stuff into his pockets.
Ikkaku slips a baggie to Ichigo in exchange for money.
"There ya' go man." He nods a bit, his gaze now on Rangiku. "Rangiku, right?"
She nods, watching Ichigo brush past Ikkaku. He points a thumb over his shoulder where Ichigo was.
"He told you I'd be by huh. Did he tell you why?"
"No," She slips her hands into her back pockets, nudging a shirt on the floor over with her foot. "but I'd like to know why."
A grin cracks on her lips. There is something electric about Ikkaku. The few times she had spot him around town, she caught herself wondering about him.
"Connections." Ikkaku says stepping a bit closer.
"Yo, Rukia, can you come here?" Ichigo calls from downstairs.
"Yeah!" Rukia slips by quietly, lingering for a second in the doorway. She gives Ikkaku a brief warning, "Ikkaku, don't try anything funny."
"W-what connections?" Rangiku says softly, aware she is suddenly alone with him.
"Those two," He starts, his head tilting to the side a bit as he finds himself lost in her vibrant eyes. "And someone I don't know personally, but occasionally will cater to."
"Anyone I know?" Rangiku presses, fidgeting with her hands.
"Possibly," He digs out a zippo from his pocket, and a pack of smokes from his jacket. "I've only seen you out walking with this guy."
He offers her one casually, leaning against the dresser by the door. He flicks open his zippo, holding the flame to her smoke. They are quiet for a moment.
"Don't you want to know who I'm talking about?"
Rangiku tucks a strand of her hair back, deciding against finding out.
"It's best if I don't." She admits carefully.
"Oh," Ikkaku furrows his brow a bit. "I see."
"I hate when people say that."
"Why is that?"
"I'm not sure what it means."
Her eyes were distant, lost in thought.
"Just means I understand." He smiles a bit. "Tell you what,"
He presses his smoke out, waving away the smoke drifting up. Rangiku looks at him curiously.
"Meet me at my usual coffee shop tomorrow round noon and we'll chat more then, okay?"
She smiles, a bit surprised. "Okay."
Ikkaku back steps towards the door.
"Wait!" Rangiku strides towards him, reaching for his arm.
Ikkaku watches as she pushes his sleeve up, pulling the cap off a Sharpie with her teeth.
"Here's my number." She says around the cap, scrawling her number onto his skin. "Text me the address so I don't forget."
The scent of her shampoo reaches his senses. He bites his tongue to refrain from commenting. She slides his sleeve back down.
"Or I could just text Ichigo," He grins, watching her cheeks grow hot as the realization dawns on her. "but thank you for saving me the hassle."
"Yeah, no problem." She murmurs, watching him leave.
Ikkaku cuts the engine to his car, parked a street down from his client. He sat there for a moment wondering if he could get out of the business. Stop pushing product and pick up a "real" job. Could he manage it? The money is good, but his clients were not. He knows he is playing his role in the deterioration of society, contributing to many opioid crises and tearing countless families apart. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, placing the thoughts to rest momentarily.
He climbs out his car, locking it behind him. He flicks the butt of his cigarette into the street, striding towards the apartment building. He'll talk it over with Kenpachi tomorrow. He climbs the steps, loathing the rundown side of town. People still lived in the area, yet most buildings were condemned, and in a strange way the area reflected the handful of residents: shells.
His knuckles rap on the door and he waits. He can hear the locks being dismantled, shuffling behind the pane of wood. Blue eyes peer at him from slits.
"Yo." He says, stepping through.
He looks around at the filth. Dishes piled in the sink, counter tops cluttered with cups and take out. A coffee table with an ash tray filled to the brim of cigarette butts. The living room light flickered momentarily. On the couch a blonde headed boy was slumped, passed out snoring softly. The boy stirred a bit, a needle clattering to the floor.
"The usual?" He says to his client, shoving down the burning disgust.
The albino man rubs his hands together, shabbily dressed. He gives Ikkaku a nod.
"Yah, the usual." He purrs, his voice always mocking.
Ikkaku digs in his coat pocket, fishing out a small bag filled halfway with white powder. He exchanges it with the man for a wad of cash.
"Won' be short this time?" The man asks, his lips pulled into a mocking smile.
"Never is." Ikkaku retorts.
"So scary." His client chuckles. "Jus' checkin'."
Ikkaku bristles under his clothes. Of all the addicts he caters to, this one always got under his skin somehow. He gives a brief wave, taking his leave. As he walks to his car, he ponders over why someone like Rangiku hung around the man.
Surely she knew, right?
A/N: This chappy is definitely shorter than the last one. Cranking out 3k words per chapter might not be in the cards for me lol Feel free to review though! :)
Next Chapter should be done in two weeks tops!