Alone {Toshiro + Rangiku}
Title: Alone
Characters/Pairing: Rangiku, Toshiro, past Gin/Rangiku
Rating: PG
Word count: 696
Summary: One night, Matsumoto learns that in dark times such as these, nobody is ever alone.
A/N: Written for prompt #6: lonely of 10_hurt_comfort.
It was a full moon that night, and Rangiku sat on the rooftops of her division's barracks, a bottle of sake beside her. She admired the way the moon cast its faint silvery light across the Seireitei, setting the whole place aglow as if it were an ethereal city.
Beautiful, yet sad at the same time.
Countless lives had been lost - captains, lieutenants, Fifth Seats, Tenth Seats - just to protect this fortress. During nights like these, she felt like the ghosts from the past returned to drift across the Seireitei, looking down and watching over their family, friends, loved ones.
It seemed plausible, but Rangiku couldn't believe it. She couldn't, as there wasn't even a hint of his fox-like features anywhere. That head of grey hair she so often used to ruffle during the olden days in the Rukon was lost to her; she'd do anything to get it back, to have just one last glimpse of him. She was even willing to have him haunt her as a poltergeist, an undead, just so she could touch his face one last time.
The pain in her chest steadily grew, reopening old wounds that never had the chance to heal. Rangiku knew that they'd stay forever open, visible as emotional scars littering her body. It was hard to ignore them, the hurt that pierced her heart at that very moment, the image of his face flashing through her mind's eye, but she chastised herself, told herself to be strong.
If she couldn't be strong for herself, he'd be upset. She didn't want to upset him, always wanted to make him happy, eager to please him.
Rangiku tipped her head back, taking a swig of sake. Alcohol always calmed her nerves, but tonight was different. The warmth that spread throughout her being, the heat that scorched her throat when she choked - all of that was nothing. She was numb to them, senseless, as if her feelings had trickled away with his passing.
With a shake of her head, she downed the whole bottle, willing her old friend to help ease the tight knot in her chest, but still it failed.
Stifling a cry, she buried her face in a hand, mentally cursing alcohol for the first time. And she had thought that she could count on it. How bitter it was, when one's good friend did nothing to ease the burden whenever a crisis arose.
The pricking at the back of her eyes, odd and foreign, brought a small sob out of her. She clasped a hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking her head in protest.
Don't cry, don't cry.
Gin wouldn't have wanted this.
Don't cry.
The hand on her shoulder made her give a start, and she raised her head, hoping that he had finally returned from the dead, but all she saw was the strict frown of her captain. Wide-eyed, tears streaming down her cheeks, face flushed from alcohol, Rangiku could only stare up at him, frozen in place.
"C-Captain…"
The grip on her shoulder tightened as Toshiro's piercing blue eyes hardened, and laced through them she could see concern, worry, and even warmth. There was that little bit of understanding in them, and it seemed like his courage, his strength and confidence was funneled into her through that one touch.
He opened his mouth to speak, and the words that he murmured etched a small smile, sad yet relieved at the same time, on Rangiku's face, "You're not alone, Matsumoto."
Characters/Pairing: Rangiku, Toshiro, past Gin/Rangiku
Rating: PG
Word count: 696
Summary: One night, Matsumoto learns that in dark times such as these, nobody is ever alone.
A/N: Written for prompt #6: lonely of 10_hurt_comfort.
It was a full moon that night, and Rangiku sat on the rooftops of her division's barracks, a bottle of sake beside her. She admired the way the moon cast its faint silvery light across the Seireitei, setting the whole place aglow as if it were an ethereal city.
Beautiful, yet sad at the same time.
Countless lives had been lost - captains, lieutenants, Fifth Seats, Tenth Seats - just to protect this fortress. During nights like these, she felt like the ghosts from the past returned to drift across the Seireitei, looking down and watching over their family, friends, loved ones.
It seemed plausible, but Rangiku couldn't believe it. She couldn't, as there wasn't even a hint of his fox-like features anywhere. That head of grey hair she so often used to ruffle during the olden days in the Rukon was lost to her; she'd do anything to get it back, to have just one last glimpse of him. She was even willing to have him haunt her as a poltergeist, an undead, just so she could touch his face one last time.
The pain in her chest steadily grew, reopening old wounds that never had the chance to heal. Rangiku knew that they'd stay forever open, visible as emotional scars littering her body. It was hard to ignore them, the hurt that pierced her heart at that very moment, the image of his face flashing through her mind's eye, but she chastised herself, told herself to be strong.
If she couldn't be strong for herself, he'd be upset. She didn't want to upset him, always wanted to make him happy, eager to please him.
Rangiku tipped her head back, taking a swig of sake. Alcohol always calmed her nerves, but tonight was different. The warmth that spread throughout her being, the heat that scorched her throat when she choked - all of that was nothing. She was numb to them, senseless, as if her feelings had trickled away with his passing.
With a shake of her head, she downed the whole bottle, willing her old friend to help ease the tight knot in her chest, but still it failed.
Stifling a cry, she buried her face in a hand, mentally cursing alcohol for the first time. And she had thought that she could count on it. How bitter it was, when one's good friend did nothing to ease the burden whenever a crisis arose.
The pricking at the back of her eyes, odd and foreign, brought a small sob out of her. She clasped a hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking her head in protest.
Don't cry, don't cry.
Gin wouldn't have wanted this.
Don't cry.
The hand on her shoulder made her give a start, and she raised her head, hoping that he had finally returned from the dead, but all she saw was the strict frown of her captain. Wide-eyed, tears streaming down her cheeks, face flushed from alcohol, Rangiku could only stare up at him, frozen in place.
"C-Captain…"
The grip on her shoulder tightened as Toshiro's piercing blue eyes hardened, and laced through them she could see concern, worry, and even warmth. There was that little bit of understanding in them, and it seemed like his courage, his strength and confidence was funneled into her through that one touch.
He opened his mouth to speak, and the words that he murmured etched a small smile, sad yet relieved at the same time, on Rangiku's face, "You're not alone, Matsumoto."