[Incomplete]
Who: Ichimaru Gin and Kira Izuru
When: After Kira's poem letter of d00m
Where: Lower Level, the house Kira and Ran used to live in
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Angst? Sadisticness...?
Summary: Kira is too nervous to see how Ran reacts, so he retreats down to the lower level to hide...only to meet someone he's been avoiding for a while.
For once, he was thankful that his work had gone unappreciated. The building Rangiku had discovered and claimed as her own when she first arrived was just as they had left it before moving to the upper level. Though dust had collected, it was still as orderly as it could be thanks to Izuru. It seemed that some sort of small beast had made itself comfortable in one of the back rooms, but he paid it no mind. His mind was preoccupied with other things.
The handle have a rusty grind as it turned beneath pale fingers, the door slowly creaking. The light was so grey, giving the place a muted feel - or perhaps without Rangiku's presence, the world lost some of its color - but it was familiar, and a safe place to stay for the next few days. His hand tightened on the metal, a wave of panic flowing through him as what he had done flashed through his mind. How could he be so...so reckless? Putting what was left of his dignity on the line...for the outcome he knew he would have to face.
Carrying his heavy heart with him, the blond-haired man entered the room, bringing the familiar gloom that always seemed absent when his current housemate was around. This was how things were meant to be, he realized. Letting go of the handle, sandaled feet padded quietly across the floor, noticing the sake stains on the old wood that he could never quite get out. The room, in fact, used to be Rangiku's, not his. For some reason that night he felt he would be more comfortable in there.
Wabisuke was placed with care against the bookshelf, but Izuru still held on the hilt. His other came up to rest against the wall, as his forehead soon followed, supported by his wrist. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, trying to fight the all too familiar nausea and disappointment threatening to take him over.
I'm so stupid.
When: After Kira's poem letter of d00m
Where: Lower Level, the house Kira and Ran used to live in
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Angst? Sadisticness...?
Summary: Kira is too nervous to see how Ran reacts, so he retreats down to the lower level to hide...only to meet someone he's been avoiding for a while.
For once, he was thankful that his work had gone unappreciated. The building Rangiku had discovered and claimed as her own when she first arrived was just as they had left it before moving to the upper level. Though dust had collected, it was still as orderly as it could be thanks to Izuru. It seemed that some sort of small beast had made itself comfortable in one of the back rooms, but he paid it no mind. His mind was preoccupied with other things.
The handle have a rusty grind as it turned beneath pale fingers, the door slowly creaking. The light was so grey, giving the place a muted feel - or perhaps without Rangiku's presence, the world lost some of its color - but it was familiar, and a safe place to stay for the next few days. His hand tightened on the metal, a wave of panic flowing through him as what he had done flashed through his mind. How could he be so...so reckless? Putting what was left of his dignity on the line...for the outcome he knew he would have to face.
Carrying his heavy heart with him, the blond-haired man entered the room, bringing the familiar gloom that always seemed absent when his current housemate was around. This was how things were meant to be, he realized. Letting go of the handle, sandaled feet padded quietly across the floor, noticing the sake stains on the old wood that he could never quite get out. The room, in fact, used to be Rangiku's, not his. For some reason that night he felt he would be more comfortable in there.
Wabisuke was placed with care against the bookshelf, but Izuru still held on the hilt. His other came up to rest against the wall, as his forehead soon followed, supported by his wrist. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, trying to fight the all too familiar nausea and disappointment threatening to take him over.
I'm so stupid.