The girl had fainted due to hunger and Gin had given her something to eat, but that alone wouldn't save her life.
Rangiku before she became "Rangiku", and Gin's decision to stay with her.
tags: Ichimaru Gin & Matsumoto Rangiku, Ichimaru Gin, Matsumoto Rangiku, names, first meetings
What directly follows Gin and Rangiku's canon meeting, with her having fainted due to hunger and him giving her dried persimmon.
Technically uses elements from my "Quincy Paradox" series, but there's no need to have read that so I'm not putting this OS in that series. Just know, if you want more context about Gin's village, that it's mentioned in "A jaunt through the towns of drifting spirits".
Attachments of the past
Gin sat on the burnt stone of a decrepit wall, waiting for the girl to finish the dried persimmon he'd given her. She'd fainted by the ruined house – a fire, that much was obvious – and he wondered if that was where she'd been staying since she'd gotten to Rukongai.
He didn't think the girl had been there long. A few weeks, two months at most. There was her kimono, and she didn't sound or behave like someone who'd been born in Rukongai – there was a distinct feeling, something in the way she'd quietly thanked him, in the weird tilt of her mouth, that betrayed the fact that Japanese wasn't her maternal tongue and that she wasn't yet used to being able to speak another language altogether, just because she'd died.
Foreigners who came to Soul Society felt a shift in their heads, a villager of Kaartan birth had once told Gin, when they ended up in a field of arrival. Here, everyone spoke Japanese – and, of course, their maternal language too – the moment they became pure souls. But even if they could speak it, they did feel a disconnect for a while, because they could tell, they knew they hadn't been able to speak it before, that they had never learned the language.
Gin couldn't speak from experience: he'd been born here, even if everyone said he and his mother had a Kansai accent. That was his grandfather's fault, really: the older man's dialect was so peculiar that Gin sometimes wondered how exactly he'd convinced his grandmother of anything at all, considering he was, more often than not, using words the rest of the village didn't understand – and possibly mocking them a bit, too.
The girl...
The girl was quiet and sad, with chin-length blond hair and greyish-blue eyes. She looked around his age, too – so, around six years old? She still wore the white kimono people who came from the fields of arrival all had before they got better clothes, but it was torn and dirty, some of the seams coming undone.
Gin looked around curiously, but it seemed obvious that she was alone here. There was no one to take care of her, no one to clothe her or get her food.
He'd heard children often got adopted at the fields of arrival – Yuibecha's was kind of far, actually. Sumadera-san had said it had taken her several months to end up in Shiroishi Hinan, but then again she hadn't been looking for the village at first. So what, two, three months, if you didn't wander? Gin didn't know. It wasn't like he'd ever gone further than a day's walk from Shiroishi Hinan.
Anyway, the girl had most likely been in Soul Society for a bit longer than he'd first thought, then.
She finished his snack and looked back at him.
"You said... You're Gin, right?"
The boy balanced his feet with a grin.
"Yep! And you said it was a weird name, too."
She looked away.
"...Sorry."
"Don't be! It is weird. I think Mom wanted to make sure no one forgot I have weird white hair."
It was, of course, a lie. When Gin had been born, his hair had been black – like hers used to be, his mother had said, and he could only believe her. But the boy didn't want to get into that.
The girl wouldn't understand, not unless he explained a lot of other things, and she probably didn't care right now.
"What's yours, though?"
"...Mine?"
"Your name, I mean."
The girl's eyes dropped and she didn't answer.
Gin tilted his head, perplexed.
Eventually she looked back up, cautious – as if she knew he would still be waiting, but couldn't stop herself from checking.
They ended up staring at each other. Him through his lashes – his blue eyes were way too sensitive to light and he most likely had his unknown father to thank for that – and her while pretending to look away.
The girl sighed, and mumbled:
"I don't like it."
Gin frowned, unsure how to take that. He was the one with a weird first name, and yet he'd never really thought about being named anything else instead. He wasn't sure of what could bring someone to actively refuse their own name...
Then again, if the girl didn't like it, he was far from going to ask her to change her mind.
"Well, that's alright, but what do I call you, then?"
The girl looked just a bit doubtful as she glared at him.
"Why? Do you intend to stick around? No one else has."
Gin made a show of looking around – at the ruined house with only half a room still standing, at the absence of other people – and shrugged.
"Well, I did give you my snack. Might as well commit, if you'll let me share that little square of room up here."
The girl almost said something, blinked, looked him over once again. She looked unsure of her own conclusions, her eyes wandering over his simple dark grey kimono – it wasn't used or torn, it was in good condition and she could tell. Maybe she thought of the fact that he'd had a snack to give her at all.
This didn't scream wealth, of that Gin was aware – but in Rukongai, in Yuibecha, in the sixty-fourth northern district... It was as close to being rich as it came. Maybe some people had more, but they were rare and Gin had never seen them before.
"...Are you..."
She seemed slightly interested, just enough to want an answer even if she still didn't believe this might change anything for her.
"Are you alone too?"
Gin grinned.
"Yep!"
It wasn't true at all, but.
The villagers would never let him bring the girl back with him. The rules were simple: you didn't help other souls with spiritual powers. You didn't give them food. You didn't save their lives. You didn't tell them the truth. If you did, shinigamis might learn of it and come for them.
This girl was alone and would die – once more – if no one helped, and Gin couldn't bring her home.
There was something else he could do, however.
He jumped from the broken wall and stood with his back turned against the girl, looking over the bushes and towards the road a few meters down. The burned house wasn't the best place to live, but it was generally hidden from view, right above the road and yet behind the bushes. Given the fact that only half a room was still livable, no one would fight them for it, either. The nearest village – that wasn't Gin's – was less than a day away, too.
Also, Gin thought that tree behind the house might be a ficus, and free food a few months a year was always a good thing – even if he'd rather have persimmons.
"I've got a few trinkets where I usually spend the night, but if you agree I can go and get them and then come back in the morning. If there are two of us, we might even be able to get this room back into shape, at least!"
The girl stared at him. Gin wondered if, perhaps, he'd been a bit too forward here – but she shook herself, face still disbelieving, and smiled hesitantly at him.
She had a beautiful smile.
It would be a shame to just let it fade away.
"My mom... She nicknamed me Randi. I don't like my name, but Randi... It'd be weird to have someone else than Mom calling me that, but I could..."
Actually, she really didn't look like she truly wanted him to call her that. It was better than her actual name, perhaps, but...
"Ran-chan it is, then! And we'll find you another full name if you don't like yours when I come back tomorrow, if you want."
The girl – Ran-chan's smile twitched a bit, grew less honest.
She didn't expect him to come back.
"...Right."
oOo
Gin got back to Shiroishi Hinan a bit before dusk.
His mother frowned at him, almost asked – but the village chief, a cousin or a great-uncle or something, Gin didn't care and didn't like him, it was because of him and his rules that he couldn't just bring Ran-chan back home, glared at them both and gestured for Gin's mother to come over. She looked at her son a moment more – but went anyway.
Gin smiled back at the man and only left when the adults disappeared.
There was no point asking or telling anything. His mother... His mother might not denounce him, if he did tell her about Ran-chan, but she'd also keep him from going back, from helping – from risking banishment.
oOo
The moon was high in the sky when the boy sneaked out of the village with a small bag of food and a girl's kimono folded inside his own. Gin knew where the traps were: the point wasn't to keep the villagers in.
There was no going back, after that.
It was alright. He didn't really like the village, after all – he didn't hate it either, he cared about his mom and his grandparents, the other villagers were alright most of the time, but the rules were too harsh and he also wanted to see what went on outside without the chief asking why he spent so much time out of the village, what was so great outside.
Gin would have asked his mother to come, but he knew – she wouldn't understand, she'd try to convince him otherwise, and then it would be too late, then the others would know too.
Ran-chan was alone out there.
oOo
The girl looked at him with round eyes when he popped up from behind the bushes the next morning, and Gin grinned wide.
"Hi, Ran-chan!"
He'd gotten there a few hours before, but it had been the middle of the night and he'd taken a nap under the bushes instead of waking her up.
The girl fumbled with herself, shakily getting up – so he went and sat by her side instead, opening his bag to reveal a loaf of bread, a bottle gourd full of water and more dried persimmons.
"Got you a decent kimono, too."
"A... Where did you find that?"
"I stole it all, of course."
It wasn't even a lie.
Gin pushed the bread towards the young girl.
"Come on, Ran-chan. Eat."
They wouldn't have long with just that – but the village chief wouldn't be angry enough, if they even noticed for a loaf of bread and a few dried fruits, to try and find him outside, which might not be true if he'd taken more – but it would allow them to hold on a bit longer. Long enough for him to look around and find drinkable water, and maybe berries or edible roots, anything they could live on without relying on adults.
In some ways, he knew more than Ran-chan about this world – he was born here, he'd been taught by his family – but in others... Gin had never had to live and survive on his own before. He was good enough to sneak around and wander the woods around the village, yes, but there was a lot more to survival than just that. The girl, her, had made her way here from the field of arrival – sure, she'd fainted from starvation when he'd found her, but she'd also survived long enough to get here at all.
He and Ran-chan would have to figure it out.
Together. She wasn't alone anymore, and Gin...
Well. Gin had felt very lonely back in the Shiroishi Hinan, at times. There weren't many children to begin with, and none of them understood why he wanted to know more than just the village, why he didn't simply listen to the chief, why he didn't care about their pride and secrets.
The girl was watching him as she munched slowly on the bread, he realized.
The boy picked a dried persimmon for himself, with raised brows and a light smile.
Ran-chan looked away.
"So... Am I welcomed in your humble abode?"
She didn't laugh, but she didn't refuse him either.
Better that way. He didn't want to leave her alone here, and he couldn't really go back to the village, now. They'd have noticed his absence, at this hour – and he'd left a note for his mother, just a few words, just enough that she wouldn't wonder if he'd gone out at night and had gotten himself killed.
She might not have helped him if he'd asked, but he didn't want her thinking he was coming back, or that he couldn't because something had happened to him.
If she knew he'd left of his own accord, then she wouldn't worry too much.
"...Gin?"
"Yes, Ran-chan?"
"You... You said you'd find me a name, yesterday."
"I did say that... Uh, do you want me to, then? What are we going for here? Something completely new or something close to your actual name?"
"...I... want to keep the nicknames."
Gin nodded: it made sense, of course. If she still cared about her mom's nickname, and if Gin was going to call her "Ran-chan" and she didn't mind...
"Okay. So, Randi, Ran-chan, hmm, what do I know that sounds close? I'm sorry, I mostly know Japanese names, but I don't think you are from Japan, right?"
The girl only gave him a look.
"Nope, you aren't. No idea where you're from, though. I barely know the names of a few Living World countries. Japan, China, Prussia, Kaarta, Chile, Ecuador and..."
"I'm Prussian. I'm not even sure of where Japan is exactly."
Gin paused. Of all the countries...
"...Uh. Then... Miranda?"
It wasn't quite a Prussian name – or at least he didn't think so from the few conversations he'd had with one of the villagers – but there were people called that in the country, maybe?
Ran-chan flinched, and Gin berated himself. Of course not. If the girl was Prussian and her mother nicknamed her "Randi", then the obvious conclusion was that the first name she didn't like was "Miranda" already.
"Or not? There's, uh... Rangiku? Not quite the same, but it does sound almost like it could be shortened to 'Randi', and it's a flower name, it's beautiful just like you?"
Ran-chan stared at him for the longest time – maybe he'd said too much?
Then she sighed and leaned back against the wall.
"Rangiku is alright, Gin. Thanks."
She kept her eyes on the ceiling.
Gin watched, unsure of what that meant. He hoped she did like the name, that she wasn't just settling because it was better than a name she didn't like at all.
"Rangiku Keifer, so... Sounds weird. And... I don't like 'Miranda' because only my grandmother used it entirely, and she hated my mom and me after Dad disappeared. I... I want to keep Dad's name, but at the same time, it's hers too, and..."
Gin blinked – right, the other way around, Keifer was her surname – and wondered if he was disappointed enough in the village to want another name altogether.
Probably not. He wasn't that attached to Shiroishi Hinan, that was true, but "Ichimaru" didn't make him feel weird or anything. He didn't want to live his life like the village wanted him to, but that was about it. Ichimaru Gin was a good name, one he shared with his family, and his mother did care.
Not the way he needed her to, but she did.
"What does it mean?"
Ran-chan looked back at him, her brow furrowed.
"What does what mean?"
"Your surname. Keifer. What does it mean?"
"I... I think it's 'pine tree'?"
Gin nodded. This was too easy, really.
"Then, Matsumoto. It's 'place of the pine tree', so it's still like your dad's, but it isn't your grandmother's. What do you think? Matsumoto Rangiku, it's a good name, no?"
The girl looked away, felt how the name rolled on her tongue a few times. Matsumoto Rangiku. That was still who she used to be, it was close to her birth name, but it was new, too. Maybe it would work for her.
"Gin?"
The boy had started packing back the food they had left and was looking for a place to hide it. Whoever had lived in this ruined house had left with most of the furniture – there was only a blackened tansu chest that was missing two of its drawers left.
"Hmm."
"Thanks."
Gin turned around and gave Ran-chan a soft smile.
"I just want to help."
