CHAPTER 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

He was intrigued as he watched the silver-haired man slowly saunter over to his and Shuuhei's table. He was intrigued when Urahara suddenly felt the urge to disappear from beside them. Hell, he was even intrigued when Aizen followed the blond to the other side of the restaurant. However, all of his intrigue came to an abrupt standstill once the mysterious sterling-haired man paused next to Shuuhei. Maybe it was the smile, or quite possibly the way the guy's eyes seemed to look right through him even though they appeared closed. Whatever it was, it gave Renji the willies.

"Mah, Shuu, long time," the slender man said.

Renji cocked a brow and smirked. The other man's voice reminded Renji of his younger brother, whom he hadn't seen since he'd gone to prison. Jinta was sneaky as hell and his voice would take on the same pitch as this silver-haired guy's when the kid was up to no good. If Renji remembered correctly, the boy would be sixteen by now. His smirk disappeared as he took a careful sip of his water and sighed. Thinking about the younger red head depressed him. He'd always loved and protected the little troublemaker, so he hadn't expected Jinta to push him aside like their parents had. Guess he'd been wrong.

That was too bad. He really missed his brother.

"What're you talkin' about?" Shuuhei's incredulous voice cut into Renji's thoughts. "You're the one who went all MIA. Where ya been, Gin-bo?"

The silver-haired man's smirk widened as he shifted his weight and stuck his hands into his pockets. He casually blew a lock of that pale hair out of his face and sighed dramatically.

"Oh, I been around. Almos' done wit' school. Ya still dictatin' over at Rent-A-Center?"

Renji's eyes went back and forth as the two conversed. He didn't know why, but he'd expected the light-haired guy, Gin, to have a girly kind of voice. Maybe because he was so damned skinny. It was like the man was on strike against eating or something. The thought made him chuckle to himself, but also drew the attention of the other men. Shuuhei tossed him a weird look that was mixed with amusement, concern and confusion, while Gin merely turned his head in Renji's direction.

"Uh, you OK, Renji?" Shuuhei asked.

Renji nodded his head and busied himself looking out the window. He was used to having Shuuhei look at him like he was crazy, but he didn't know Gin. Gin's glances felt like electric shocks, like the guy was trying his damnedest to figure Renji out. He didn't like it.

"Oh, that's right, Gin! Ya never met my friend, Renji, have ya?"

Renji had to force himself not to jerk in surprise at the familiar introduction. He'd expected Shuuhei to call him his employee, or at the very most his co-worker. Not a friend. It'd been a long three years since he'd honestly felt anything resembling friendship; he was too used to keeping people out.

"Mm," Gin hummed, frosty blue eyes finally slitting apart to peer at Renji with no small amount of curiosity. "Nice ta meetcha."

A reedy hand was thrust forward before Renji knew what hit him, leaving him no choice but to shake it, albeit uncertainly. When he did, another chill strolled across his skin. Gin's hand reminded him of a rodent, thin and bony and creepily fragile. Blue eyes smiled at him even when the man's face remained expressionless, like Gin knew exactly what Renji was thinking. Gin's grip tightened for a fraction of a second, displaying a surprising amount of strength before the hand disappeared back into his pocket. Renji felt odd. He didn't know what to make of the silver-haired man and that was a first. He usually prided himself on having a good grasp of character, but Gin baffled him. Mystery shrouded the guy like Harry Potter's invisibility cloak, making it impossible to get a handle on anything he didn't want you to.

Unnerving.

"Yeah, same here," Renji grunted, response automatic.

He made his focus the window again, not really sure what else he should say. Turned out, his participation was no longer required; Shuuhei and Gin went back to chatting about what they'd been up to the past couple months. Renji watched the snow swirling outside the thick glass, the ground slowly acquiring a shallow layer of nature's powder. He thought about his parents: his tall, red-haired father, whose voice matched his boisterous personality, and his petite, dark-haired mother, whose tinkling voice was the complete opposite of her fiery temperament. He thought about how his mechanic father had given him the tools he'd needed to pursue engineering in college, how his mother had been there with loving support and great food to keep him motivated. He thought about Jinta and how he'd wanted the kid to do whatever made him happy, as long as it was legal. The little snot had cackled at him and told him he'd been thinking about boosting cars for a living. They'd pretend-wrestled before Jinta had finally sobered and told Renji he was pretty cool for a big brother.

The ominous feel of his throat tightening and the backs of his eyes stinging warned Renji he was about to make a spectacle of himself, so he gathered his emotions and tucked them away in the far corner of his heart, where they belonged. Thinking of his family always managed to depress the hell out of him. Seemed like tonight called for something a lot stronger than the hot chocolate he'd had in mind.

"-ji. Renji!"

He jumped and glanced around, bewildered. What the hell? His eyes found Shuuhei watching him with true concern this time. Crap. That was all he needed: the guy poking his nose in all the wrong places.

"What?"

"What planet are you on right now, dude? I've been callin' you for the last minute and a half."

Renji sent a short look in Gin's direction before refocusing on Shuuhei. "I didn' hear you."

Shuuhei scoffed and rolled his coal-colored eyes. "Yeah, dimwit. That much is obvious. Gin's takin' our orders, so what're ya getting?"

"Oh," he said, mind still on his family. "Uh, I always get the steak an-"

"Scampi special? What kind of sides?" Gin interrupted, narrow face tilted to the side.

"Potatoes: mashed. Asparagus, and I take my steak medium well."

"Mm. Hearty eater, huh?"

Renji grinned. "Ah," he agreed. "I'm a big guy, Gin."

The willowy man's face went blank. Renji started thinking he'd done something wrong, when Gin suddenly straightened and nodded.

"OK, then. I'll get yer orders ta the kitchen."

Once the other man disappeared behind the kitchen doors, Renji turned to Shuuhei, confused.

"Did I say somethin' wrong?" he asked.

Shuuhei shrugged and squeezed a slice of lemon into a glass of water. "Gin's weird like that. I'm used to it."

Renji shrugged it away this time and turned back to the window, resting his chin in his hand and elbow on the edge of the table. His thoughts inevitably went back to his family. Would he ever see them again? Maybe not his parents so much, but what about his little brother? Would Jinta even want to see him?

Fuck.

XOXOXO

"So, what happened?" Rangiku attacked almost as soon as he entered the kitchen.

Gin pretended his heart wasn't convulsing behind his ribs and shrugged. "I talked to Shuu, then took ther' orders. Nothin' much."

"Oo-hoo! You are lying like a rug, Gin-bo!"

He grinned and stuck a small sheet of paper above the cooks' station. That done, he swerved through the busy chef's center and headed towards the back exit, where he pushed the door open and held it for the excited woman he was sure would follow. Rangiku bounced ahead of him, but abruptly pulled up short and wheeled around to face him again.

"Spill your guts, Gin. I know when you're hiding something, and this is a big, juicy something," she said sternly, blue eyes shimmering with determination under the lights above the back door.

Sighing, he fished in his pockets for his pack and lighter. He never could keep a thing from his orange-haired best friend. Don't know why he'd tried in the first place. After he lit up and enjoyed his first pull and exhale, he unleashed what he was really feeling.

"That man is fuckin' pipin' hot, Ran," he muttered. She giggled and nodded, encouraging him to go on, but he indulged with the cigarette again before continuing. "I mean, I could tell from a distance by his body an' all, but up close...s'another story altagether."

Rangiku pilfered the cigarette and sucked down a lungful herself. "What's so special 'bout this one, though?"

"His eyes. Ther' brown an' burgundy. Crazy, but nice, ya know? Course ther's that body a'his. Christ, Ran, he walks like he's got an anchor 'tween his legs. Tha's gotta be promisin', right?" He paused, not really expecting a response, just needing a second to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. Then, he sweetened the pot. "His voice makes me think I'm part monkey er somethin', 'cuz I hear it an' wanna climb all over him. Shit ain't right. Ran, the guy said mah name and I almost had an orgasm." He shook his head. "And the hair..."

"I was waiting for you to get to that part. I'm surprised you've never been with a guy with long hair before, the way you obsess over it," she laughed.

"Yeah, well. Firs' time fer everythin'."

"So...did you wanna run your fingers through it?"

Gin knew she was being facetious, but she was right. He'd internally struggled like hell not to reach over and slide his fingers through that long, silky-looking, bright red ponytail. He didn't know where his thing for hair had come from, but it'd never been a big issue until then. Keeping his hands to himself had seemed damn near impossible, yet somehow, he'd done it.

"Fuck you," he grumbled.

Rangiku knew firsthand about his addiction to long hair since he always fell victim to playing with hers. She would tempt him by sitting in front of him while he perched on the couch, minding his business with a good movie or book. She'd lay her head in his lap and that would be all she wrote. Sometimes she wouldn't even have to ask. Those were usually the days he was frustrated about something and needed an outlet. He'd brush, braid and unravel, only to start all over until he calmed down. It was routine between them, and she looked forward to it almost as much as he did. Now she was teasing him about it. Evil woman.

"Aww, Gin-bo, don't be that way," she soothed. She took another pull from the cigarette and passed it off, dainty hands going to wide hips. "I'm just saying. Imagine having a boyfriend whose hair you could play with like you do mine."

The effect was nearly instantaneous. Blood rushed to his head, and adrenaline surged through his veins. That was like waving a Gucci pump in front of a shoe freak.

"Mah...that was such a low blow, Ran."

Rangiku cackled as she nodded. "I love you too, Gin. See ya later."

She slithered back into the building, leaving him fuming and wanting to strangle the shit out of her for sticking such a provocative image in his head. He finished the cigarette and flicked away the butt before going inside himself. After a quick stop in the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his hands, he made it back to the kitchen just in time to grab Shuuhei's and his companion's food. He carefully situated the ovular, white plates along his forearms and in his hands, then backed through the double doors, out into the dining area. He carried them over to the two men's table, heart rate picking up the closer he got to the absentminded red head, who was currently aiming all of his attention at the window next to him. He approached and set down Shuuhei's plate first, not wanting to seem too eager to serve the red head. Renji, rather.

"Lobster fettuccini alfredo," he stated. As he set Renji's plate in front of him, the man turned and pinned him with haunted russet eyes. "And steak and scampi special. You guys need anything else?"

"Can I get a refill on my water?" the red head asked, voice a carnal indulgence.

Gin nodded, feigning nonchalance as he turned to Shuuhei. "You need some too?"

The dark-haired man shook his head, face already buried in his plate of pasta. Gin chuckled and lifted Renji's empty glass.

"I'll be back with this."

He shuffled off, left hand in his pocket as he went over to the bar. He decided the red head deserved some special treatment and grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter. He set it near the sink as he rinsed the glass before filling it partway with ice. After that, he poured the entire contents of the bottle into the glass, then carried it back to the red head. Gin secretly enjoyed the way Renji's lips formed a ghost of a smile as he accepted the perspiring cup with a quiet, "Thanks." Renji either didn't know how gorgeous he was, or he did, and just didn't give a shit. Gin was having a hard time deciding.

As he sauntered away from the table, he threw a curious glance over his shoulder, not surprised to find Renji more interested in his food than watching Gin's departure. Oh, well. He'd get the guy's attention sooner or later. He'd already decided the red head would be his next adventure – whether it was sexual or romantic didn't really matter at this point.

XOXOXO

He'd been lying in the bed for over half an hour now, eyes open and focused intently on the ceiling. Not the green-haired woman snoring gently beside him.

He'd done exactly what he'd planned: ate at his favorite restaurant, went home and showered, changed, had a few shots of brandy, then vegged out in front of the TV. He'd quickly grown bored with that, though, and the alcohol coursing through his system had been thorough in riling up his libido. Sex foremost in his brain, he'd dug for the number he'd left in his work uniform pocket and called up the pretty girl named Nel. She'd answered after three rings, voice husky and promising. Hadn't taken long to get to the point after that. He'd shown up at her house, they'd danced through some small talk, then onto the big games after he'd declined her offer of a cup of coffee or tea. They'd both known what he was there for, and it hadn't involved anything to drink.

Nel had been everything he'd hoped for: soft, warm, and wet. The first round had taken care of the three year edge he'd built up in prison, while the second had put the green-haired woman down for the count. Now, he lay in her room in her periwinkle bed, trying not to fidget. He was fighting a losing battle. For one thing, he felt utterly uncomfortable, like his skin was crawling off his flesh. And for another, he wanted to be home in his own bed. He'd gotten what he'd wanted and now it was time to go. Nel hadn't been too subtle in her desire for him to leave as well, with her slurred statement of, "Lock the door when you go," before she'd dropped off to sleep. So, why the hell was he still there?

Why, indeed.

He sat up and threw the comforter aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Running a hand through his tangled hair, he gathered his bearings. Finally, he climbed to his feet and searched the carpeted floor for his clothes. The sweats had ended up at the foot of the bed, while his long-sleeved t-shirt had ended up on Nel's side of it. He found his socks balled up under the comforter and his high-top Supra sneakers where his sweats had been. Once he was dressed, he made sure his keys were still safely in his sweats pockets before taking one last look at the beautiful woman on the bed, green hair sprawled over her pillow. He was sure it'd be the last time he'd see her.

Quietly, he crept from the bedroom, down the hall, then down the stairs, glad they were carpeted too and didn't make a whole lot of noise as he descended them. He stopped in the foyer for his hoodie, slipped into it, and left the house, locking the door behind him like Nel had asked.

XxxxxX

He felt a lot better in his own place, but his stomach still writhed, unsettled for some reason. He stood in the kitchen by the sink, hands bracing the edge. And then he scoffed. He knew why his stomach wouldn't settle down. It had nothing to do with the alcohol he kept feeding it, either. Normally, he stuck with his beer, but tonight...tonight he'd felt cracking open his reserve bottle of Hennessy had been completely necessary. The slow burn had distracted the funny feeling in his gut for a while, but now, it did nothing to prevent the stomach Olympics he had going on. No amount of liquor could drown the loneliness and rejection. No matter how drunk he got, he would always think about his family. About his parents, who obviously wanted nothing to do with him since they hadn't called or visited him once during and after his incarceration. About his little brother, who more than likely felt the same way, despite their closeness prior to Renji's three year absence.

Fuck. He'd made a mistake. Wasn't everyone entitled to a few of those in their lifetime? So, why had he been condemned for his? Was it so bad, it required the loss of his family? Damn, he missed them.

He knocked back another shot and tossed the tiny glass into the sink before lowering his head and running a hand through his hair. No one knew his pain. No one cared. Women saw his tattoos and body and wanted to fuck him, but they didn't want to know him. They enjoyed the thrill he represented with his bad boy image, but that was about it. And most guys assumed he was trouble and tended to stay far away from him. Shuuhei and Ichigo had been the only ones brave enough to step into his personal space, for which he was grateful, but still a bit wary. He'd learned a thing or two about that elusive subject called trust. Slippery son of a bitch, that was. Even though Shuuhei was his friend, the dark-haired man knew nothing about what was going on with Renji's family. He knew what Renji wanted him to know, and that was how it was going to stay.

Renji's parole officer was a pain in the ass, constantly hounding him, even after he'd been given proof of the red head's employment. Did that monotonous bastard give a sideways shit? Of course not. It didn't matter that Renji didn't get high, resulting in consistently clean urine. It didn't matter that he had a job. It didn't even matter that he stayed out of trouble and made his parole appointments on time, all the time. Officer Schiffer saw him as just another piece of trash that'd managed to weasel its way out of the system.

With that kind of hand being dealt to him, it was no wonder Renji was withdrawn and not as sociable as he used to be. Of course, he missed hanging out with those he'd thought were his friends. He missed playing ball in front of a screaming crowd. Hell, he even missed his classes. He wondered if his credits were still available to him if he decided to finish that engineering degree. Didn't really matter. He had no money, and he was positive he was no longer eligible for grants and loans. Everything had gone down the drain the moment he'd lost his cool over that stupid girl. Someone should've told him being young and blindly in love would only backfire on him in the long run.

Shit. Now he was sulking.

Renji straightened his back and swayed on his feet. When he blinked, his eyelids were heavy and resistant against being reopened. Time to crash. He staggered from the kitchen and into the living room, which was as far as he got. The couch seemed like a much better idea than traveling all the way to his bedroom: a whole twenty foot journey. Nope. No way was he making it. He fell face-first onto the tan couch and instantly fell asleep.

XOXOXO

Gin stumbled into the quiet house, a night of drinking with Rangiku making his steps ridiculously unstable. He tripped over the small mat in the foyer and chuckled in the dark. He was totally shit-faced. It'd been a really long time since he'd gotten drunk enough to lose his balance while walking. Hell, usually he held his liquor like a champ. Tonight, though? Not so much. Rangiku had insisted on celebrating the reawakening of his male hormones, so to speak. In other words, she was happy he was actually interested in someone after such a long period of romantic dormancy.

He took a couple steps forward and dropped his keys. After sucking his teeth and starting to bend to retrieve them, he thought otherwise. The room tilted at a dangerous pace, so he threw his hands out and braced himself against the nearest wall. Unfortunately that wall turned out to be his father.

Kisuke – merciless as usual – flipped the foyer light, blinding Gin with all the intensity of a supernova. Gin groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he found the real wall this time.

"Mah, Pop," was all he managed in his state.

Kisuke gave his signature, mysterious chortle before coming closer. "Gin, you're falling-down drunk. Are you depressed? Or are you celebrating?"

Too much at once. His stomach was beginning to protest the amount of alcohol in it, making him gulp down precious air like it was a rare commodity. He fumbled along the wall, desperately trying to get his legs to cooperate with him, but they were being quite stubborn at the moment. Kisuke started towards him, but the addition of another voice in the foyer halted him.

"Kisuke, what's going on?"

Was it terrible that he was too far gone to care that both his fathers had discovered him drunk and floundering about the foyer? No? Good.

Sosuke entered the small room and stared at Gin for a few seconds. "Gin, your intoxication is astounding," he commented.

"Yep," Gin mumbled in response. "S'bout ta get messy too if I don' make it ta the bathroom soon."

That jerked both older men into action. Kisuke grabbed one arm, while Sosuke grabbed the other and together, they hauled Gin to the bathroom on the first floor. He didn't even have his eyes open as he fell to his knees and hugged the porcelain savior, emptying into it everything from vodka to blood vessels. The bathroom door slammed shut, and Gin thought he was left alone to retch and sacrifice his insides in peace. However, it was not to be. A hovering presence made itself known to his left. He peered from the corner of his eye, disappointed to see his blond sire seated on the edge of the tub, hands folded in his lap. If Kisuke had stuck around, it obviously meant he had something important on his mind. But jeez, couldn't it wait until morning?

Gin groaned into the toilet, stomach still performing languid somersaults. He wanted to gouge out his eyes and die, certain it would feel tons better than the torture he was currently enduring. Someone had decided the slow flips in his gut weren't enough, and was now scraping at his intestines with something hot and extremely pointy. Not fair.

"Son, this doesn't have anything to do with..." Kisuke started.

Oh. No wonder his father was concerned. He thought Gin was falling back into his depressed days. Not so. In fact, he was pretty happy now. How to get that across while drunk? Hmm...

He pondered it, but came up empty each go round, so instead, he fell asleep, head resting on the lip of the toilet. Not the most comfortable of places, of course, but better than the floor at this point. The last thing Gin was aware of was an exasperated sigh, then wonderful darkness.

XxxxxX

One Week Later

He'd figured out a way to switch places in the restaurant with Inoue, a sweet, orange-haired girl, who hadn't minded in the least. The only one that had been skeptical of his motives had been his blond father, of course. Kisuke had grilled him thoroughly, but Gin had miraculous ways of avoiding the third degree from the older man. Hell, he'd had years of practice under his belt. The only person completely aware of why he'd switched to the opposite side of the restaurant was Rangiku, and she made sure to tease him about it on a daily basis.

Renji hadn't shown up since the last time he'd been there with Shuuhei, but Gin had hopes the man would return. And if the guy did, he wanted front row seats.

"Salmon and potato bake!" a chef called from the kitchen.

Gin hustled inside and grabbed the order. The elderly lady at table ten wanted her food piping hot and complained if it was anything less. Gin had no problem respecting those older than him, but that lady would put Mother Theresa to the test. He needed to carry the plate with a white hand towel in order to not burn himself, but the gray-haired lady smiled at him as he set it down in front of her.

"Thank you, dear," she said.

"Not a problem, Ms. Grace. Hope ya enjoy an' lemme know if ya need anythin' else."

She ignored him, but that wasn't done out of spite. Sometimes Ms. Grace forgot to turn her hearing aid up. Guess it wasn't required when eating. Gin chuckled and shuffled off to the bar, mind on the project he had to turn into class the next day. He lifted a bottle of water to his lips and froze as his eyes went to the entrance of the restaurant. Tonight, the man had on a pair of thick, dark-blue sweatpants, a matching thermal top and a gray hoodie over it. Dark-blue and white, high-top sneakers were on his feet as he paused beside the host/hostess podium. Gin drank in the sight like he'd never seen it before. Renji had his luscious red hair pulled back in a long braid, a black, elastic headband keeping stray hairs off his face. He had dark, fuzzy gloves on his hands, but rubbed them back and forth as he blew on them and nodded something at Rangiku.

She led him to a table near the back of Gin's serving section and set a menu down in front of him before flouncing away. Her blue eyes were bright with mischief as she glanced at Gin and winked, smile wide and knowing. He was up to bat, so to speak. He collected himself with a deep breath before plucking his order pad from his back pocket. This was a first for him. He hadn't felt nervousness in so long, it kind of made him mad. He strolled the short journey to Renji's table and stopped beside it, ingrained waiter manner taking control of his body.

"Somethin' ta drink?" he asked, peering down at the red head.

Renji glanced up at him, then back down at the menu he held in his hands. After a few seconds of that, his head came back up, eyes widening with recognition.

"You're..."

"Gin. An' yer Renji. I remember."

"Oh...yeah, um...I'll take a Guinness Stout."

Gin nodded and made a note of it. "Ya wanna start with an appetizer er somethin'? Or ya know what ya want already?"

Renji seemed distracted because he studied the menu like it held the key to life. Gin waited a few beats before trying again to get the man's attention.

"Hellooo?"

Finally the red head looked up at him, russet eyes profoundly sad. It shocked Gin. He hadn't been expecting to see such raw pain in the man's expression. What the hell could be making the guy look like that? He didn't want to pry though, so he just repeated what he'd said earlier.

"Um," Renji started, eyes going back to the menu. Then he slapped it down on the table and rubbed his eyes wearily. After a deep sigh and slight chuckle, the red head lowered his hand and met Gin's confused gaze. "I'm not even really hungry. I jus' wanted ta get outta the house," he mumbled.

The guy's voice was so lost and forlorn, Gin felt it his duty to take a seat across from him. Hell, he wanted to reach out and take the man's hand, but figured it would be too overwhelming. Renji didn't react the way Gin thought he would. Instead, he just watched like he was waiting for a bomb to explode in his face.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" Gin suggested quietly.

He wasn't great at offering advice, but Rangiku often told him he was a good listener. He could do that all day.

"I wouldn't even know where ta start," Renji answered. Then he scowled as he locked eyes with the silver-haired man again. "What would ya do if I told ya I was in prison fer three years?"

Gin admitted his shock. He'd expected the red head to be somewhat of a bad boy, what with his dangerous looks and all, but prison had been far from the radar. He shifted on the cushioned seat and rubbed the tip of his nose.

"Mah...I think I'd ask what for first."

Renji arched a brow, but immediately said, "Aggravated assault."

Gin studied the handsome face and realized things weren't lining up correctly for him. He didn't see Renji as a cruel, sadistic bastard, who went around laying dudes out with his fists for no good reason. He didn't look like a serial killer in the making, either. Yeah, everyone knew you couldn't judge a book by its cover, but in a lot of cases, appearances went a long way.

"Whose ass didja kick? An' why?" he asked.

The red head sucked his teeth and averted his eyes, scowl deep and scary-looking. Finally, after a long, tense pause, he spoke. "I walked in on my ex fuckin' another guy," he shrugged. "I kicked the guy's ass. He pressed charges. I went to jail. The end."

Gin shook his head. He knew there was a story behind those reddish-brown eyes. No wonder Renji was so distracted. He obviously had a lot on his mind. But he'd said he'd been in jail for three years...hypothetically. That would've given him more than enough time to get over his cheating ex and move on. So, the question still remained: why was he so sad and forlorn now?

"An' then what happened? That can't be the whole story."

Renji snorted, but the sadness in his eyes deepened. Gin tried waiting patiently, but Renji obviously had no desire to elaborate. Therefore, Gin tried nudging the red head with words. Perhaps he was being too nosy for his own good, but he just couldn't keep watching the gorgeous guy sulk like someone had stolen his Christmas tree on Christmas Eve.

"Ya might as well let it out. Ya look like yer best friend died," he continued.

But Renji was in another world. Luckily, that world had him spilling his guts like someone cut his stomach open.

"After I went ta prison, my family stopped talkin' ta me. My mom, my dad, even my little brother. I haven't heard from them in three and a half years."

Gin stared, utterly flabbergasted. He couldn't even imagine his fathers not speaking to him anymore, let alone having it actually occur. So, that was why Renji was so depressed. So sad. The betrayal of an ex, being sent to prison because of the ex's betrayal, on top of the loss of ties with his family? That had to be keeping the man awake at night. Gin knew it would keep him from getting any sleep. He slowly climbed to his feet and stuck his notepad back into his pocket.

"I'll getcha yer beer. Think a'somethin' ta eat while I'm gone. This is on me."

He ignored Renji's astonished expression as he made his way to the bar. He hadn't felt this bad for someone in a long time, but he didn't want the guy thinking it was all pity. Gin glanced over his shoulder and took a peek at the red head. Renji was busy studying the tabletop, not paying attention to him, but Gin still smiled. He was determined to know more about the mysterious guy.

Next time...