Author's rambling:

Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm glad you've returned to read on!

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Matsumoto sat on the porch, legs dangling over the edge as her bare toe drew a circle into the sandy ground. She had been sitting there for almost an hour by now, having watched the sun on its descend towards the horizon.

Her stomach growled, but she had been much hungrier in her afterlife, had been close to starving for several times already and just because her body hadn't gotten a good dinner within the last two days, didn't mean she would wimp out any time soon.

Along the way she was walking with Gin, she had gotten the nag of how to control her reiatsu, preventing it from leaking out of her pores and leaving her drained. How she had acquired such an ability in only a few months was still beyond her, but she had the feeling that Gin was the major source for her new found energy that made her go forwards and not look back.

It was then that she felt it.

The energy signature, she had been waiting for almost the whole day. The soft, slightly irregular reiatsu of her friend invaded the shack and filled Matsumoto with something akin to relief and security.

The last rays of dirty yellow light framed his form as he suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was late and he stepped into their refuge without as much as a single glance into her direction. Matsumoto instantly noticed his dirty hair and face. His yukata, as badly sewn as it may have been before, was ragged and torn.

Two dead grey fishes dangled from one hand. In the other one, he was holding a short katana.

He mumbled an apology for being late in a slightly slurred voice, tossed the cadavers into an empty bowl and wandered silently like a shadow into the corner farthest away from her.

Frowning, the girl with the reddish hair got up from where she had been sitting, cocking her head slightly to one side, as she regarded the boy with questioning eyes.

On first impression, the sword looked expensive, the hilt wrapped in blue silk and the polished scabbard made of pure white horn. It looked off, seeing such a beautiful and terrifying weapon being held in a vice grip by the dirty boy and Rangiku had the growing feeling of trepidation that something was really off about this whole situation.

The cat in her mind growled its assent, sounding almost like blood singing in her ears. Matsumoto ignored the panther pointedly this time. She was way too angry with that stupid Gin to find the nerve to listen to the growling feline right then.

How had he gotten his hands on such a katana? Matsumoto couldn't imagine someone had actually left the obviously expensive sword lying somewhere in the dirt. Had Gin stolen it? But that would mean, that the owner was probably hot on his pretty obvious trail (because, to be frank, camouflaging or better leaving no signs of his existence behind, was not an ability, Gin had at any point of his life called part of his repertoire).

Turning around fully, she ignored their supposed dinner for now and watched the boy for a rather long moment in silence until she thought, she would slap him upside down for not even making a motion that he was fine and unharmed.

"Gi-"

"'m tired, Rangiku. Gonne hit da hay."

With that muttered, Gin turned around on his mat with his back facing towards her. The katana was still clasped in his hands, knuckles having turned even whiter from the death grip. He left her standing at the porch, mouth gaping open in befuddlement at his strange behavior.

Feeling her nerves running thin was the best sign for her to not pursue the matter for now. If he wanted his ass whipped by a pack of murdering men, then so be it! There was no chance in hell the noble he had stolen that sword from would be laughing off the loss without seeing the thief's head protruding from a bloody stick.

Huffing, Rangiku unrolled her own straw mat and lay down. Closing her eyes, she tried not to notice how her mind seemed to be drawn to the sword, the growling of the panther having turned into a longing purr.

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The two of them woke early this morning. Nothing special about that actually, because they always got up even before the sun had decided to rise. Getting a head start on the next chapter of survival was their prior motive for tuning their bodies and minds on high alertness every single day.

Even in the most serene nights did she wake at the slightest noise. A howling dog, a howling man. The creaking of the old magnolia or the death song of a starving kitten.

But today, their day started in the middle of the night.

A voice startled Rangiku out of her light sleep into awareness so suddenly, that she needed almost a full second to understand, that she had already sat up on her straw mat.

"Shuddup… please… shut yer friggin' mouth!" The sleep-laden words echoed in the near silence of the shack, making Matsumoto's heart skip a beat in anxiety. Gin having a nightmare was probably nothing special. Nightmares were the reason why sleeping would never be as mind curing and body relaxing as it was probably supposed to be for anyone here in this district.

But the way he was mumbling and yelling at his imagination to leave him, made the blood in her veins run cold for a reason, she had yet to uncover.

Suddenly, Gin sat bolt upright, heavy pants heaving his chest as he stared ahead at the black wall, face hidden behind sweaty strands of silver.

"G-Gin?" She asked tentatively, not intending to frighten him with her voice as she fought with herself whether to get up or leave him some room.

The panting stopped abruptly, his head turning around to seek out the owner of the familiar voice. In the moonlight, Matsumoto could see the metal of the S-shaped cross guard glint in the moonlight that penetrated the makeshift door.

Without another word, Gin jumped up from his sheets, running past her into the cool night with the katana pressed against the soaked front of his yukata.

Flustered, Matsumoto felt his reiatsu vanishing in the darkness, leaving behind a massive amount of disturbed and disordered energy.

Unable to organize her thoughts, she sat there, hoping against the feeling of defeat, that he would come back in a few minutes… return to her side… won't leave her alone again…

Six hours later, he still hadn't returned.

De-scaling the fishes, Matsumoto stared out into the distance thoughtfully.

Gin didn't return that day.

And he didn't the day afterwards.

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FINIS!?