Author's rambling:

Was gone for some time.

This is the sequel to the last chapter! Hope to be able to entertain you some more with this!!

After the great Kubo-sensei has started his grande revelation of everybody's past, this won't be too close to the truth, but well… I don't care! But the manga is the absolute crème de la crème and I am sitting on hot coals every week for the next chapter! Though that damn countdown is making me feel sick with the thought of slowly but surely having to face the end… T.T

Thanks to everybody who has found the time to drop a review so far! Your opinion was greedily devoured!! XD

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"Wiped out."

"Slaughtered!... In a pigpen!"

"Th-there was s-so much blood…"

"Hush! Not in front of the children…"

Matsumoto ducked under a fence, ran through a dirty backyard and climbed across a cart parked in front of the wooden door.

Hastily, she dashed across the open street, whizzing past a couple of women gossiping in whispered voices and behind callused hands. In the corner of her eyes, she noticed two figures in black shihakushos wandering down the line of poorly erected houses, katanas dangling by their sides in a silent threat.

They were swarming the district like roaches, sticking their noses into every open door and looking under every pebble for their prey.

Her breathing grew heavier as Matsumoto ran full speed down an alley, heading for the last shacks marking the end of the village. She ignored the strange look she received from another shinigami, wishing silently they'd just all leave again. Go back to their beautiful Seireitei and leave them just alone.

They hadn't been particularly interested in their needs in the past and now, she didn't need their services as well. She knew why or better what they were here for. They were after him.

Rangiku had been waiting near their home all night long, having watched the shack from the shadows as she had hid behind barely green bushes for him to return.

He had promised to meet her there, but in the end, he hadn't returned.

No longer able to stay still, she had decided to look for him. On her quest, she had heard the first rumors after she had entered the busy streets of the district.

There had been a massacre. Seven men dead. Found slaughtered in a muddy pigpen with no traces of their murderer.

There had been no shock at hearing the news from the frightened women, no surprise at the knowledge that someone was actually able to do such a cruel thing. Only raw fear for his wellbeing.

They had mentioned seven men. Their weapons lying scattered around them. Unused.

But no word about him.

He must have gone into hiding, Matsumoto reasoned with her anxious self, lips pursed into a thin line as she headed for the last place she hoped to find him. Until then, her hunt had been without success and she hadn't even come across the slightest trace of his existence.

The river was close. She could smell the water and hear the soft murmuring as the masses of clear liquid made their way along their long ago defined course.

The two of them had gone there a few times to fish or catch rats, sitting often enough silently in the high branches of a widow with empty stomachs, but with a content smile on their lips, cherishing and sharing the silence and solitude.

The noises of Rukongai faded away until only a hateful memory remained. The river came into sight and Matsumoto's eyes wandered along the grass lining the stretch of running water. A nearby flock of birds exploded into a buzzing cloud of activity as she jumped across a rock, panting heavily in synch with her pounding heart.

What would she do if she didn't find him here?

The question had been echoing inside her mind ever since she had started to look for him. The self-reproach and self-accusations were gnawing at her consciousness and forcing hot tears to form in her eyes now and then.

It had been her fault that he had been forced to even lift that damn sword! Her fault that they were hunting him! Her fault that he had become a murderer…

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Two small brown mice scurried away in fearful disorder, but the young girl paid them no heed.

Her attention had focused entirely on a dark red spot in front of her that had appeared out of the nowhere. As if it had fallen from the skies.

The blood was crusted, the crimson color having already turned into blackish red.

Her eyes widened in fear as she found another larger dot some feet ahead. As she examined it more closely, she noticed the in blood colored imprint of a toe.

Rangiku's stomach knotted painfully, cold fear clawing at the last traces of her resolution.

Slowly, she followed the irregular pattern of the crimson stained grass and ground until she came across a larger puddle. Something had fallen to the ground there, a corner of the red area smeared into a long line as the lost item had been picked up again and dragged across the ground for a few seconds.

It could have been anyone, Rangiku tried to tell herself to calm down the rioting panther inside of her mind. Maybe a hunter or a wounded animal dragging itself to a silent place to die. Biting her bottom lip, she followed the trail carefully, noting the bent grass stalks and slight depressions in the soft ground caused by small feet supporting a light body. One foot bare, the other sandaled.

A noise ahead brought her to a standstill. It had come from behind the trunk of a tall maple tree. As if somebody had taken a deep breath.

"He-hello?" She asked tentatively, one hand fisted into the material of her old yukata. Very slowly, she closed the distance between the last red dot and the trunk, one hand extending to press against the cool bark.

Craning her neck, she looked around the tree and froze.

A choked sound escaped her throat unintentionally and her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

She watched his back for the longest minute, just staring at him, trying to breathe through her nose as her stomach churned threateningly.

He was sitting at the very edge of the river, knees drawn to his chest and his chin resting on his folded arms. His gaze was glued to a spot somewhere in the growling water, far away.

Beside him, the short katana was lying. The blade was slightly revealed, glinting dully in the bright sunlight.

Tears started to blur her vision as she took an insecure step forward.

"Gin?" She tried softly, ignoring the slight vibrating of her voice as her throat constricted.

His bony shoulders tensed at hearing her utter his name, but he made no other move, still sitting there with his back towards her as she approached silently.

So much blood.

Not a single drop belonging to him.

He was coated in it, his hair clotted with the crimson liquid that had long since dried. His skin bore no longer the pale color she had come to wonder about, but was inked ruby.

The sword lay in a still damp puddle of darkening blood.

Avoiding stepping into any blood, Matsumoto walked around the katana and crouched down with her back against the maple tree. She was unsure of how to proceed, concern clouding her judgment at seeing his unfocused eyes staring ahead into nothingness.

Slowly, she allowed her arm to extend towards his shoulder, but the second her finger touched his skin, his whole frame jerked around, looking like a puppet pulled back by invisible strings.

His eyes met hers and she stopped breathing.

Wild, panicked blue.

Like a fox backed into a corner, looking like he had yet to decide whether to strike or try to escape.

"Gin, it's me…" She tried in a calm tone, locking eyes with him as she tried to ignore the raw fear in his wide orbs. His breathing was ragged and his right hand wandered across the ground in wild disorder, feeling for the sword lying in front of her.

"Please. Say something." The tears she had been holding back since yesterday, started to fall down her cheeks, forming dark dots on her yukata and in the sand. A sob escaped her throat as she watched him edge away from her.

His eyes remained focused on her face, jaw muscles clenched. When his bare foot touched the hilt of the bloodied katana, his hand shot across the ground, lean fingers closing around the hilt and pulling the blade out of the tainted sheath.

The formally light blue silk wrapping had turned red, matching the color of his small hand.

With a shriek, Matsumoto jumped up just as Gin scrambled into a standing position. The point of the metal weapon leveled at her chest, trembling in synch with his violently shaking hand.

His reiatsu flared up and ebbed away, the peaks almost too high for Matsumoto to bear. There was still that strange darkness engulfing his being, Matsumoto's insides churning from the suffocating pressure.

Crying uncontrollably, she stared through blurry eyes as he took a step backwards, preparing himself to flee like a wild animal.

"Please." She sobbed in a broken voice, hoping the carefree boy she had come to rely on was still hidden behind the dirty silver strands of hair and the fearful eyes.

But all she could see was a frightened, broken boy standing there, caked in blood without the slightest trace of humanity in his wild gaze.

She didn't know why, but suddenly she was moving.

She didn't see the blade or the dried blood. There was no sound as she rushed forward. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his tensed form before she even realized what she was doing.

"I'm so sorry!" She yelled into his chest, hot tears burning in her closed eyes as she held him desperately against herself. "Please… Please don't leave me alone!"

In her state she didn't realize that the darkness retreated from his body.

She didn't notice how his right arm sank slowly to his side, his shoulders slumping as tense muscles slowly relaxed. Matsumoto didn't hear the dull sound as the katana fell from his loose grip into the soft sand.

She kept on sobbing into the stained front of his yukata, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra. Apologizing and begging.

A hand on her back made her stop abruptly, the words stuck in her throat as she felt the featherlike touch. It stayed there for a very long moment, when suddenly his body went lax and the couple sank down onto their knees.

"Ran?"

Gulping down another sob, Matsumoto nodded her head against his chest, hands holding onto his yukata for dear life.

Something wet splashed on top of her head, followed by another drop of warm liquid.

"Ran?" Gin asked again in an insecure voice as his arms came up to enfold her in an embrace of his own.

"I've left you… Forgive me…" He continued in a broken, tired voice, hands digging into her yukata. "I-I have come to save you."

Opening her brimming eyes slightly, she stared at the blood stained katana lying beside them.

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FINIS?!

Hope ya liked it! Feel free to r&r!