Matsumoto leaned against the windowsill, her arm dangling out. The day couldn't have been anymore boring. Drinking was no fun alone, but what could she do? As appealing as dragging all her drinking buddies away from their work was, she couldn't be selfish.
I wouldn't have minded being your prisoner a little bit longer.
She stared at the peaceful scene before her, yet not really seeing it. The plain designs of the buildings, the few unimportant shinigami passing by here and there, chattering on about trivial things. Perhaps she could of gone back to her Captain's office. Help him with the ungodly amounts of paperwork...But knowing the white-haired boy, he probably finished all of it.
Goodbye...Rangiku.
Her eyes closed, imagining those days. Those simple, peaceful days. 'Rangiku, if ya don't eat, how'ya expect ta grow into a beautiful young woman?' She felt a chuckle escape her mouth. Gin probably didn't expect her to fill out this well.
Gin's quirks, his facial movements, his moods, his slang...she thought she knew everything about him. But looking back on it now...she didn't know much at all. Or perhaps she just knew superficial things. Matsumoto frowned, waking herself up from her imagination. She should of stuck to paperwork. Thinking about this only made her stomach twist.
Matsumoto had enough of this. Hopefully, her Captain would yell at her for something, distracting her thoughts.
Stopping at the entrance of her captain's office, she took off her slippers, taking a little too much time. Yes, her thoughts trailed back to Gin.
Staring at the empty office before her, Matsumoto sighed, letting herself think of Gin. Back when they lived together, there was always a game they played.
Whoever got home second would mix up the slippers and when the two would leave, they'd spent extra time finding their own slippers. This led to a few hand-to-hand touches, red cheeks, and a good start to a cheerful morning.
Matsumoto furrowed her brows, heading back out the office, slipping back on her shoes.
I'm sorry.
Taking one step forward, Matsumoto shot an arm forward, grabbing the wall for support. What had she tripped over? Looking down at her feet, she noticed she had absentmindedly put on one slipper just her size, and another that was obviously too small.
Matsumoto smiled, sensing the reiatsu of the white-haired boy behind her.
Her day was filled with fond thoughts of the boy.