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[INCOMPLETE] Kakashi, Rangiku

Jan 20, 2008 02:14

Who: Kakashi, Rangiku
When: Sometime after this post.
Where: Somewhere kinda north, at the river?
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: Szayel messed Kakashi up, and he wants to die. Or drink himself into a stupor, which is why Rangiku's headed over to wherever he is. Maybe she'll find out what happened, maybe she won't. ^^

( I miss being friends with benefits, don't you? )

naruto: kakashi, !incomplete

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dvinetitillatn January 20 2008, 08:29:41 UTC

The bottles of sake were tucked away within her jacket, her hands were shoved within mittens, and Rangiku had set out. It was a decent day, as far as weather went, although still cold, and she could see small white puffs of air curl into the air before her as she took a long labored breath before heading out ( ... )

shouldve_didnt January 21 2008, 02:23:51 UTC

Thinking a little more about his post, a wave of guilt washed over him. It would have been a lie to assure everyone that he was good and well, but he most certainly wasn't in his right mind once he'd been freed. While his small circle of friends must've been concerned about him before, he couldn't have eased their concerns by any degree. A part of him wanted to take that post back, but he didn't know if it was actually possible to get rid of it ( ... )

dvinetitillatn January 21 2008, 02:57:18 UTC

Although her lips remained sealed, so to say, her eyes flickered, focusing their slate blue depths upon him. Considering everything that had happened to Rangiku, most of it her own doing, her mind was surprisingly blank. She knew that at times people thought that there was nothing up there but a slight breeze and perhaps tumbleweed. This time, they would be correct in assuming that, at least for the most part. It was strange, that solemn nature, quite unlike the bouncy chipper woman. Then again, she had her reasons for feeling thus; knowing that she had let Izuru down doing what she had done with Gin. Yet, they had talked, and Rangiku knew that they would talk more when Izuru got back. For now though, that numbness was what Rangiku wanted to keep, if even for a while, to deny those feelings that had been stirred ( ... )

shouldve_didnt January 21 2008, 14:05:10 UTC

As the surge of feelings and thoughts faded away, he felt himself thinking surprisingly clearly. Unless that was the illusion caused by drinking sake--Rangiku did say that he never could hold very well against the drink. Perhaps that was the only illusion that sharingan never saw through. But it would be okay because he didn't want to see through it--he didn't really know how to deal with reality here and now. He was more than happy to postpone it, but then again... wasn't that why he was always too late?

Kakashi felt good being here with someone, even if she wasn't his mujan. Then again, it was probably better off that way. Rikku had scared him before; he'd caved in to jealousy and anxiety with the fear that she would leave him for good, didn't want him, had someone else... While that time she'd left was fairly long, perhaps his time away had been longer? Was he unfair and unjustified for being away that long and having no means to contact her? It wasn't like she left him a message when she'd disappeared, and she never really gave a ( ... )

dvinetitillatn January 22 2008, 00:53:42 UTC

Sometimes, you simply did need to avoid reality. Sometimes, a vacation was needed, an escape from the cycle. Whether it be through something one had done to themselves, or another, of if they were the one wronged, it was nice to revert back into that shell. Like a turtle, Rangiku had done that, stuffing her head into her shell an ignoring the world around her. By the looks of things, Kakashi could use an escape from hell to the sweet oblivion of a sake-induced paradise. His post had been confusing, and Rangiku had worried. Something had happened, and had the woman only put two and two together, she would have realized that the answer was Szayel ( ... )

shouldve_didnt January 22 2008, 15:37:31 UTC

A break in the cycle seemed to happen at least once a month; he'd be in a pile of stress (regardless of how laid-back he appeared) and wind up asking Rangiku if she had any alcohol of any sort. She was usually very willing to share, and they'd even drink together. Despite inconsistency, it was its own cycle within a larger one. But it was the one that brought them together, made them friends, and kept them empathizing with each other in the need to share a mind-numbing bottle.

Where does it hurt exactly? The problem with this question was that Kakashi didn't quite know exactly what hurt anymore. His mind still produced something of a dull throbbing, but when it came to his body, he didn't even know where to begin. Was the pain inside, or outside? Was it in any specific place, or was it everywhere? Nothing seemed concrete anymore; there wasn't just one answer to any question anymore ( ... )

dvinetitillatn January 23 2008, 04:11:35 UTC

She regarded him with a concerned expression plastered across her face. She still rubbed that finger that had gently swabbed across the blood soaked fabric, as if trying to get rid of a spot that was not actually there to begin with. Just looking at him was actually pretty painful, and once more Rangiku realized just how strong these shinobi were where ever he came from. Humans seemed to have a way of doing that, for he was not dead like Rangiku, but more like Ichigo. Looking back, Ichigo and his company had changed her outlook, and living here only did it more so. Of course, the fireworks might have had something to do with it, for they had spent quite a while doing that, which, despite herself, was not something Rangiku would forget, though she probably also shouldn't talk about it either. Then again, it had been quite some time ago, before everything had changed, and she really did not feel back about that ( ... )

shouldve_didnt January 24 2008, 05:02:55 UTC

Was it him, or was he picking up bits and pieces of her thoughts? Some kind of comparison between the living and the dead... in regards to strength... He was considering scratching his head or rubbing the back of his neck but felt a bit too lazy for either. Her touch was gentle as she laid her hands on his body; surrounded by the chilly air, her hands felt rather nice and warm. He quite liked it... While holding his shirt up with one hand, he took another sip from the bottle in the other ( ... )

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