The fever wrapped itself around Rangiku like a heavy fog, dragging her mind through a haze of fragmented thoughts and half-remembered images. She was lying in their tiny shelter, her body trembling despite the blankets piled over her. Every breath she took felt shallow, her chest aching as the freezing air of the slums seeped through every crack.
Through the haze, she became aware of Gin. She caught glimpses of him moving in and out of the shelter. She wasn't sure if she imagined him setting up the small fire or if it was real, but the faint crackling and warmth told her it must be.
At one point, he knelt beside her, the heat of the fire casting shadows across his face. He brought a small, steaming bowl of soup to her lips. "Drink," he said, his voice soft but insistent. She barely managed a few sips before turning her head away, too weak to do more.
"You've gotta drink, Rangiku," he said, his voice tinged with worry that she rarely heard.
Her response was a faint, incoherent mumble before she sank back into the fog.
Time blurred. Rangiku wasn't sure how long she drifted in and out of consciousness, her body wracked with chills. The next time she stirred, it was to the sound of rustling clothes. Through half-lidded eyes, she saw Gin sitting by her side with his torso bare. Her sluggish mind struggled to piece together what he was doing until she felt the weight of the blankets shift.
Gin slid under the covers beside her, his arms slipped around her waist, careful but firm.
"What…?" she mumbled weakly, her voice barely a whisper.
"You're too cold," he said quietly, his breath brushing against her temple. "Body heat's all I've got."
She wanted to argue, to tell him that he didn't have to do this, but the heat of his body against hers was overwhelming. Slowly, the trembling in her limbs began to ease, the warmth seeping into her skin.
The last thing she remembered before sleep pulled her under again was the way his arms tightened slightly around her, protective and steady.
Is this a dream?
When she woke, clarity cut through the fog in her mind. The fever was gone, leaving her body feeling weak but lighter. The fire had burned down to embers.
She became aware of the weight beside her. Turning her head slightly, she found Gin lying next to her. His arm was still draped over her, but what struck her most was his face.
His eyes were watching her. She'd never seen him like this before. He always smiled, always teased. But now, there was no trace of that usual mischief in his expression.
"How're you feeling?" he asked, his voice low.
She swallowed and gave a faint nod. "Better," she murmured, her throat dry but clear.
Gin didn't move, his gaze still fixed on her. For a moment, she thought he might say something more, but he didn't.
Her eyelids grew heavy again, the exhaustion pulling at her even as she tried to stay awake. Just as her eyes began to close, she felt him shift.
"Don't leave," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Gin stilled. After a beat, he spoke softly, "I won't."
The assurance in his voice was enough to let her drift back into sleep, her mind now free of the fevered haze.
The next time Rangiku woke, the room was still, the faint gray light of dawn creeping through the cracks in their fragile shelter. She lay there, her breath shallow, only to realize he was still beside her.
Gin's arm was still draped around her waist, his grip firm and unrelenting, as if he'd been holding her together while she unraveled. His face was so peaceful and unguarded in sleep, stripped of his usual sly smirk.
Rangiku hesitated for a moment before lifting her hand, her fingertips brushing lightly against his cheek. She trailed gently along his jawline, tracing the faint curve where boyish features had just begun to sharpen into something older.
Gin stirred, his eyes fluttering open, slow and heavy with sleep. His gaze found hers almost immediately. There was no smirk, no teasing remark. His eyes were steady and serious, more open than she had ever seen them.
His arm tightened around her waist as if he was afraid she might slip away, and the warmth of his touch sent a shiver coursing through her body. She could feel his breath against her lips, warm and soft, and she became painfully aware of the little space between them.
His eyes flickered down to her lips. He was so close, so impossibly close, and she couldn't look away.
She saw it—the way his gaze lingered. The air between them felt heavy. And then she realized she was looking at his lips too.
The need welled up inside her, overwhelming and undeniable. And then he leaned in slowly, so slowly it felt like time itself had stopped. She trembled, but realized—she wanted this, she needed this, him. The cold, the hunger, the pain—they all disappeared, drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat and the warmth of his breath mingling with hers.
Their lips were a whisper apart, her breath catching as she felt the ghost of him, just barely brushing against her—
And then he shifted.
Gin turned his head, burying his face into the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. His arms tightened around her, holding her close, but it wasn't the way she wanted. His grip was protective, almost desperate, like he was holding her together but keeping himself apart.
Rangiku's chest tightened. She lay still in his embrace, her throat burning as she fought the tears threatening to spill. The moment had passed, slipping through her fingers like snowflakes melting against warm skin.
He didn't say a word. Neither did she.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay still, to commit this moment to memory even as it hurt.
This was the first and last time they were ever that close. After that night, Gin never looked at her lips again.
Ikkaku rubbed his bald head, eyeing the remaining cups like they might hold some hidden clue.
"Alright, my turn." he said, grabbed a cup, swirled its contents with exaggerated care, and took a sip.
The others watched in silence, suppressing their grins as he closed his eyes in concentration.
"Well?" Yumichika asked.
"This one's from… the northern district," Ikkaku announced, lifting his chin like he'd just solved a great mystery.
There was a pause before Rangiku burst out laughing. "That's the exact same one you guessed last time!"
"Yeah, but this time this is it! I can tell the difference," Ikkaku protested.
Miyako, who had been tasked with keeping track of the bottles, picked up one and checked the label. She blinked, then grinned. "Wrong. You're drinking again."
A groan went around the group as Ikkaku muttered curses under his breath and reached for his penalty drink.
The Shuyo no Yu, an annual tradition of the Gotei 13, where every Captain, Lieutenant and seated officers were invited to, had brought them here tonight. While meant as a formal celebration of camaraderie, it was hard to take formality too seriously when you were chest-deep in steaming water and playing drinking games with the same group of troublemakers every year in nothing clad then a towel.
Shuhei adjusted the tray so it floated evenly again. "You know, for a group of shinigami, we're all terrible at this game."
"Speak for yourself," Rangiku chimed in, "I'm doing just fine."
Kaien poured a fresh round into the cups. "Alright, Matsumoto, since you're so confident, your turn."
Rangiku smirked, leaning forward and picking up a cup from the bobbin tray at random. She took a delicate sip, closing her eyes as the taste settled on her tongue. "Hmm…" She set the cup back down and tapped her chin dramatically, as if deep in thought. "This one's from the eastern district."
"You sure?" Shuhei asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Absolutely."
Miyako picked up the sake bottle to check, "Wrong."
Rangiku groaned, leaning back dramatically against a rock. "Ugh, fine. Pour me another."
"Don't whine. You're just bad at this," Kaien teased, laughing as he handed her another cup of sake.
"She's bad at it because she doesn't care. She just wants an excuse to drink." Shuhei commented dryly.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Rangiku retorted, raising her penalty cup in a mock toast before downing it in one go.
The night carried on like this, with the sake flowing and laughter ringing through the air. The lanterns hanging above the hot spring cast a golden glow, the light refracting off the rippling water. After a while the group decided to take a walk to the nearby courtyard.
"Don't fall asleep in there, Matsumoto, or we'll have to fish you out!" Kaien called over his shoulder as the group except Rangiku began to gather their towels and climb out of the steaming water.
"You sure you don't want to join us, Rangiku?" Miyako added, draping her towel modestly around her body.
Rangiku waved them off, "I'm fine where I am. You lot go enjoy yourselves. I'm just going to… relax a little longer."
"You mean drink more," Ikkaku muttered.
Rangiku didn't bother denying it. She just smirked and rested her arms on the edge of the spring, her cheeks warm from the combination of sake and the water.
"Just don't drown with all that sake in you." Shuhei said before turning away.
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, shooing them away with a dismissive wave.
As the group's chatter and laughter faded into the distance, Rangiku let out a deep sigh, the silence wrapping around her like the warmth of the spring. She tilted her head back, letting the steam rise around her as she closed her eyes. Her head felt heavy, the sake making her thoughts drift and swirl.
The heat in the hot spring soaked into her body, loosening every tense muscle and making her feel light. For a moment, she felt entirely at peace, her body weightless, her mind adrift.
Then, a cold shiver ran down her thigh.
Her eyes snapped open, her breath catching in her throat as she gasped.
And there he was.
Gin.
He stood in front of her, his cold fingertips gliding over her thigh just under the water's surface. His lips curved into that familiar smile, his half-lidded eyes watchin her.
"G-Gin?" Rangiku stammered, her voice breaking as her body betrayed her with another shiver from the coldness of his touch, "W-What are you doing here?"
"Just passing through," he replied, his tone light, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "And imagine my surprise when I saw you here, all by yourself."
She knew of course that he also was invited to come to the hot springs, but all these years she had never saw him actually participate.
"You know," he said then, his voice low. "It's dangerous for a woman like you to bathe alone in a place like this."
Gin's smile widened ever so slightly as he leaned in even more, his breath brushing against her ear.
"Naked," he whispered into her ear.
Her breath hitched as she shifted her head to look at him. He was so close, his hand still resting on her thigh. She should have pulled away, but she didn't. She couldn't.
Her blue eyes searched his face, and her heart pounded as she noticed the shift in his gaze. It lingered on her face, drinking her in as though memorizing every detail, before slowly drifting down to her lips.
She swallowed hard, her chest tightening as the steam around them seemed to grow thicker, hotter. Her hands gripped the edge of the spring, knuckles white.
"Don't let your guard down," Gin murmured, his voice quieter now.
His breath ghosted over her lips, so close. His eyes flickered back up to meet hers, and they held her there, trapped in the intensity of his gaze.
"Especially not with me," he finished, his words barely audible, his tone chilling and intimate all at once.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, as Gin's lips hovered near hers, the space between them was maddening. Her mind screamed at her to do something, but all she could do was stare into those piercing eyes.
"Push me away, Ran-chan."
She blinked, startled by his words. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She didn't move.
Gin took a slow step closer, pinning her against the rock, their bodies pressed against each other with only thin towels separating them beneath the water. His grip on her thigh tightened slightly, his thumb tracing small, slow circles over her skin, sending shivers up her spine.
"Push me away," he repeated, his voice softer this time, almost pleading.
But Rangiku, with her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, finally shook her head. "No," she whispered.
Something flickered in Gin's eyes. His hand tightened on her thigh, his other hand rising to cup her waist through the towel as his gaze bore into hers.
"Oh, Ran-chan," he murmured, his tone tinged with something that felt almost like regret, but it was far too layered to be that simple.
Then, his head dipped, and he let his face fall into the crook of her neck. Rangiku froze as she felt his breath warm against her skin, his damp hair brushing her cheek. His grip on her didn't lessen, his fingers digging slightly into her thigh and hip, holding her there.
She didn't move, didn't dare break the tension that hung between them. Rangiku's fingers twitched, hovering in the air for a moment before gently resting on his back. She could feel the faint trembling of his muscles beneath her touch, the vulnerability he never let anyone see.
They stood there, tangled in each other, the steam from the hot spring rising around them like a veil. Rangiku closed her eyes, her fingers brushing the back of his neck as her breathing steadied. Gin didn't lift his head, and Rangiku didn't ask him to.
The weight of years of distance between them felt heavy on her shoulders. The truth, that she had denied, of how much she had actually missed him, was hitting her like a slap in the face.
Gin's hand slid from her thigh as he stood, water dripping off him. His expression was unreadable, that familiar mask slipping effortlessly back into place.
"Be careful, Rangiku," he said softly, "You never know who might be watching."
And with that, he stepped back, his hand trailing from her waist as he turned and disappeared into the mist.
Rangiku stayed where she was, staring after him as the ripples in the water settled around her. She closed her eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold on to the disappearing warmth he'd left behind.