009. FANFIC: "Not Supposed to Be This Way"
I'm returning to fanfic writing but this is not a new fanfic. I wrote this almost a year ago, back when I liked GinRan somewhat and when the manga was still stuck in Fake Karakura Town. It fits somewhere in the timeline after Aizen, Gin, and Tousen arrive in Fake Karakura and after Matsumoto fought Ayon. This is what I thought Gin's and Matsumoto's reunion could be like. I am so frustrated with this fanfic (Gin's dialogue is so hard to get right!); but since it's way off canon by now, I've decided to let it go.
Title: Not Supposed to Be This Way
Series: Bleach
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto, Gin, Kira; mostly GinRan, HitsuMatsu if you squint
Rating: G
Genre: angst
Word Count: ~2,400 words
@ff.net
Ichimaru Gin liked to think that he was an impartial spectator, the all-seeing eye hovering above the battlefield, calmly scanning and analyzing Arrancar and shinigami alike for strengths and weaknesses. His mysterious, fox-like smile curved his thin lips all the while, his hands tucked away into his spotless white robes as innocently as a monk. His short, pale hair stirred gently, not in the wind, but from the vivacious reiatsu activity in the battlefield that was disturbing the air. If not for that sinister smile and his weirdly slit eyes that made it impossible to see the pupils, Gin might have appeared like an overgrown, happy child.
It was no secret that he enjoyed watching all the carnage around him - something inside him bubbled with glee, a red, frothy kind of glee - especially since he stood on the high ground, well out of harm’s way, positioned, as usual, a little behind and to the right of Aizen.
From his position, he could see all the faces of the men and women he used to call allies. Shinigami. Eh, that was a time long past. No use reminiscing on it, although seeing how they were faring right now in their battles against the Arrancar was actually quite fun to watch.
“How nostalgic,” Gin said, more to himself than to Aizen or anybody else, his ominous smile stretching a little wider.
There was Second Division Captain Soi Fon and her bumbling idiot of a vice captain battling the Segunda Espada, Barragan. Was that her bankai? How intriguing. Gin supposed that he would have liked to know more about that particular technique she was trying to use on Barragan (without any effect), but she was going to die soon anyway. No use wasting his time.
Ooooh, and there was Tenth Division Captain Hitsugaya. The boy genius. Like he himself had been, once upon a time. That seemed to be such a long time ago. Gin wondered why he had never bothered with getting to know the young boy when he had been a captain in Soul Society; they were both misunderstood in some way, and he would have known what Hitsugaya was going through as a child prodigy who few took seriously. But then he remembered why Gin didn’t like him, and his thoughts stopped short.
Who else was here, who else...
His keen eyes picked out the yellow blonde of his former vice captain’s hair, further out towards the outskirts of the battlefield, near one of the pillars of Fake Karakura Town. Kira Izuru. Gin wondered absentmindedly how he was doing. Was the foolish boy still as loyal to him as ever? Perhaps he’ll go down and pay him a visit for old time’s sake...
Nonchalantly giving a small, careless wave to Aizen to indicate he was leaving for now, Gin used shunpo and materialized several feet in front of Kira noiselessly except what sounded like a soft sigh. He saw that Kira was kneeling over somebody, a strange glow emitting from his hands as they hovered above the body. Kira was healing somebody. How quaint. Had Kira retrogressed and rejoined the Fourth Division now? Surely he was not so pathetic as leave the Third Division once he’d been disillusioned that his captain was not who he thought he was. Gin was almost disappointed in him. Almost, because he didn’t quite care enough about him to be disappointed.
“A word to the wise,” Gin said, with a chillingly cheerful tone of voice. “Stop wasting your strength on healing other people since they’re going to die anyway. You’re just prolonging their pain. Futile, eh?”
Kira looked up, clearly startled by the sound of his voice; his blue eyes widened with shock when he found Gin’s face sneering down at him. For a split second, Gin saw what seemed to be relief flash across his former subordinate’s face. “Ichimaru-tai-” Kira blurted. Abruptly realizing he was addressing his former captain with a now-inappropriate honorific and that Gin was supposed to be the enemy, Kira’s words broke off. He hastily stood up, disappeared from view, and, using shunpo, materialized again nearer to Gin, standing defensively in front of the body he was healing. His hand had flown to the hilt of his zanpakutou at his hip.
“Step back, Ichimaru,” Kira warned. “I’m not your vice captain anymore, and I won’t make the same mistake as last time!”
Gin smiled wider. “Has it crossed your mind, Kira-kun, that maybe this is exactly what I want you to do? You always play directly into my hands; no matter how many times you do it, I’m afraid you’ll never learn.” He tucked his hands away into the wide sleeves of his immaculate white robes, not even entertaining Kira by considering him as a real enough threat for him to put his hand on his hilt, just in case. His entire demeanor was teasing.
He took a tiny step forward (just enough to set Kira at edge but nothing very offensive; it was all a little game after all) and Kira immediately unsheathed his zanpakutou, holding it with both hands in front of him. His sky blue eyes suddenly looked thunderous. “I’m warning you, Ichimaru, this time, I won’t hold back!”
Kira had barely finished his sentence before Gin flash-stepped so that he was now standing almost toe-to-toe to him, hand wrapped around the blade of Kira’s zanpakutou. The vice captain flinched. “Tsk, tsk, Kira-kun,” Gin said in a sing-song voice, as if he was telling off a five-year-old - in a way, he was. “Don’t be hasty now. Why don’t you be a good boy and put away your sword? I didn’t come here to play.” Kira’s eyes narrowed; Gin could see his mind whirring in those sky blue eyes. “Maybe another day,” he finished, and gave a little snicker.
Suddenly, a voice rose from behind the vice captain. The voice was soft, and a little raspy. “Kira. Listen to him and put away your sword.”
It was if the smile was being melted off Gin’s face. His cheeks slackened and the gleam in his eyes disappeared. He recognized that voice. How could he not? He knew that voice as well as his own.
“But-” Kira spluttered, unsure of what to do. He knew what she wanted to do, but how could he, as her friend, let this despicable traitor even step near her?
“Please, Kira,” she said, with an unusually calm voice. “Let me see him.”
And as Kira reluctantly began to move aside to reveal the face of the person he had been healing before Gin interrupted, Gin realized that, until this very moment, he had never known true fear in his life. He froze.
There on the floor, with her beautiful, wavy, ginger hair fanned out around her head, lay Matsumoto Rangiku with the entire right side of her lower torso missing, the edges of her flesh caked with dried blood.
No...No, no, no.
They instantly locked gazes. When was the last time he saw those startling blue eyes that were now boring into his own, the very same eyes that he had once almost every single day of his life? Since when have those eyes become so icy? (Her captain’s influence, he thought nastily.)
Below him, Rangiku let out a strangled cry from deep within her chest, she raised one weary, battle-worn hand and covered her lower face, muffling the one, lone quiet sob that she allowed to escape her.
It was not supposed to be like this. Rangiku was not supposed to be here. What was she doing here? How did she get hurt? A large portion of her torso was missing... For a moment, he grew angry. Why was Rangiku so careless? She was a strong, strong woman; yet she had gotten so severely injured. This wasn’t in the plan; Aizen had said...
“Still think that Kira is wasting his strength healing me?” Rangiku suddenly asked, her clear, vibrant eyes trained on him; she wouldn’t let him look away, as desperately as he wanted to. “Still think that I’m not worth saving?”
He knew that Aizen must be watching him from afar. Aizen probably already knew what was going on his mind, carefully observing to see what he was going to do. Gin was torn. His loyalty was being tested. He was putting her in danger like this. “Rangiku...”
“Don’t ‘Rangiku’ me anymore,” she snapped. “Not after all you have done to me.” Her beautiful face warped into a sneer. “So. Tell me, Ichimaru Gin, why have you come here? To torture me a little more? To play your little mind games on me? To kill me?”
Gin blanched, face whiter than ever. “No, of course not-”
“I dare you!” Rangiku was seething by now, venom and spite in her voice. Her rancor was pouring out all at once and Gin marveled at her vitality even when lying there so vulnerably. “What are you waiting for? I’m defenseless, already half dead. It would be so easy to give me the death blow. Kill me, you coward. Isn’t that why you’ve come here?”
He felt a deep pang in his chest, but it was overruled almost immediately by rage. “I am many things, Rangiku; a traitor yes, but never a coward.”
“You, not a coward?” She almost laughed derisively. “Then why can’t you speak the truth when you look me in the eye? You used to tell me everything, Gin. What happened to you? Why...” Rangiku’s voice wavered. “Why did you leave me?”
Gin could hear the desperation in her voice, the agony creased into her brow. When they were growing up together, whenever she worried unnecessarily, he’d always give her something: a piece of their favorite dried persimmon, or perhaps a stalk of a blooming flower. But now, he had nothing to give. Nothing, except for his sincerity.
He took a step forward; nearby, Kira’s hand again flew to the hilt of his zanpakutou but Rangiku waved him off, and Gin was free to proceed. When he reached her side, Gin slowly knelt down beside her, eyes cast down on to her face. Rangiku eyes had grown wide, unsure as to how to interpret his actions.
“I wanted to bring you with me, when I left Soul Society, but I already knew you wouldn’t come with me if I proposed it. Your loyalty to Hitsugaya is too great. I couldn’t tell you about Aizen... I could sense we were growing apart, we weren’t who we once were. I wasn’t even sure you wanted to be with me anymore.”
“I am who I always was, Gin,” she said softly. “It was you, it was you who were the one who was drifting away, ever since you met Aizen and joined the Fifth Division. I should have seen it long ago. What a fool I’ve been. I know I loved you, and since I thought you loved me as well, all that didn’t matter. I was living in a delusion.”
“You’re heading into dangerous territory here. Are you sure you want to continue?” he snarled.
“I’ll do whatever I want, and you’re the last person to tell me what not to do, Ichimaru,” she hissed. “The time when I hung onto your every word has passed.”
“You’re wrong. What I do with Aizen has nothing to do with you-”
“Then why did you leave, Gin?”
He remained silent.
She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, there was white-hot pain surging through them. “If you cannot even answer that question, then leave and don’t show your face to me until you can.”
“You haven’t given me a chance!”
Vivid blue eyes flashed angrily. “A chance? You want another chance? I’ve given you plenty of chances, much more than you deserve. When I held you in my arms with my zanpakutou against your throat, I gave you a chance to explain things to me, to stay behind, to surrender. You blew it, Gin.” A pause. “Tell me something: is it fun to play with a poor woman’s heart?”
Gin slowly rose from his kneeling position. He couldn’t say it aloud. He couldn’t say that he really was sorry; that he was telling the truth when he had said I wouldn’t have minded being your prisoner a little while longer; that he didn’t know what had happened to him between their days in Rukongai and the moment he joined Aizen. He couldn’t say it aloud, so he said the easiest answer that came to mind. “Yes. Yes it is.”
He watched her face set in stone. Gradually, Gin’s face readjusted so that his customary sneering eyes and fake smile were present again. It was all a show. He did not feel like his usual self; he did not feel like playing.
“I’m disappointed in you, Gin,” he heard her say.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain. I know. I am too.
And he turned his back to her and walked away, leaving her lying on the ground.
--
Rangiku stared blankly up at the sky.
It was so hard not to stare after Gin as he walked away. It would have been too painful, but she would have been able to suffer through it if only to burn one last image of Gin (and of his unyielding back) into her memory.
She wondered if she would ever see him again.
Why did you have to leave, Gin? Don’t you love me enough?
Her vision blurred, and the tears she forbade to show in front of Gin began to leak out of her eyes and down her face into her hair.
Kira, standing off to the side, silently resumed healing her.
“He’s changed, remember,” Kira said quietly, warning her from doing anything rash.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. I just wonder since when.”
--
Gin flash-stepped back to Aizen’s side with the little smile playing along his lips but his eyes told a different story. They were wide and hard and caught Aizen’s own eyes as Gin walked past him.
You promised me, Gin silently accused. Rangiku was never supposed to get hurt.
Aizen needed no words to make his meaning clear as daylight. And you promised me to cut all ties. You didn’t. That was your mistake, Gin.
And Gin knew he was right.
--
fin
Don't forget to comment & critique!
Title: Not Supposed to Be This Way
Series: Bleach
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto, Gin, Kira; mostly GinRan, HitsuMatsu if you squint
Rating: G
Genre: angst
Word Count: ~2,400 words
@ff.net
Ichimaru Gin liked to think that he was an impartial spectator, the all-seeing eye hovering above the battlefield, calmly scanning and analyzing Arrancar and shinigami alike for strengths and weaknesses. His mysterious, fox-like smile curved his thin lips all the while, his hands tucked away into his spotless white robes as innocently as a monk. His short, pale hair stirred gently, not in the wind, but from the vivacious reiatsu activity in the battlefield that was disturbing the air. If not for that sinister smile and his weirdly slit eyes that made it impossible to see the pupils, Gin might have appeared like an overgrown, happy child.
It was no secret that he enjoyed watching all the carnage around him - something inside him bubbled with glee, a red, frothy kind of glee - especially since he stood on the high ground, well out of harm’s way, positioned, as usual, a little behind and to the right of Aizen.
From his position, he could see all the faces of the men and women he used to call allies. Shinigami. Eh, that was a time long past. No use reminiscing on it, although seeing how they were faring right now in their battles against the Arrancar was actually quite fun to watch.
“How nostalgic,” Gin said, more to himself than to Aizen or anybody else, his ominous smile stretching a little wider.
There was Second Division Captain Soi Fon and her bumbling idiot of a vice captain battling the Segunda Espada, Barragan. Was that her bankai? How intriguing. Gin supposed that he would have liked to know more about that particular technique she was trying to use on Barragan (without any effect), but she was going to die soon anyway. No use wasting his time.
Ooooh, and there was Tenth Division Captain Hitsugaya. The boy genius. Like he himself had been, once upon a time. That seemed to be such a long time ago. Gin wondered why he had never bothered with getting to know the young boy when he had been a captain in Soul Society; they were both misunderstood in some way, and he would have known what Hitsugaya was going through as a child prodigy who few took seriously. But then he remembered why Gin didn’t like him, and his thoughts stopped short.
Who else was here, who else...
His keen eyes picked out the yellow blonde of his former vice captain’s hair, further out towards the outskirts of the battlefield, near one of the pillars of Fake Karakura Town. Kira Izuru. Gin wondered absentmindedly how he was doing. Was the foolish boy still as loyal to him as ever? Perhaps he’ll go down and pay him a visit for old time’s sake...
Nonchalantly giving a small, careless wave to Aizen to indicate he was leaving for now, Gin used shunpo and materialized several feet in front of Kira noiselessly except what sounded like a soft sigh. He saw that Kira was kneeling over somebody, a strange glow emitting from his hands as they hovered above the body. Kira was healing somebody. How quaint. Had Kira retrogressed and rejoined the Fourth Division now? Surely he was not so pathetic as leave the Third Division once he’d been disillusioned that his captain was not who he thought he was. Gin was almost disappointed in him. Almost, because he didn’t quite care enough about him to be disappointed.
“A word to the wise,” Gin said, with a chillingly cheerful tone of voice. “Stop wasting your strength on healing other people since they’re going to die anyway. You’re just prolonging their pain. Futile, eh?”
Kira looked up, clearly startled by the sound of his voice; his blue eyes widened with shock when he found Gin’s face sneering down at him. For a split second, Gin saw what seemed to be relief flash across his former subordinate’s face. “Ichimaru-tai-” Kira blurted. Abruptly realizing he was addressing his former captain with a now-inappropriate honorific and that Gin was supposed to be the enemy, Kira’s words broke off. He hastily stood up, disappeared from view, and, using shunpo, materialized again nearer to Gin, standing defensively in front of the body he was healing. His hand had flown to the hilt of his zanpakutou at his hip.
“Step back, Ichimaru,” Kira warned. “I’m not your vice captain anymore, and I won’t make the same mistake as last time!”
Gin smiled wider. “Has it crossed your mind, Kira-kun, that maybe this is exactly what I want you to do? You always play directly into my hands; no matter how many times you do it, I’m afraid you’ll never learn.” He tucked his hands away into the wide sleeves of his immaculate white robes, not even entertaining Kira by considering him as a real enough threat for him to put his hand on his hilt, just in case. His entire demeanor was teasing.
He took a tiny step forward (just enough to set Kira at edge but nothing very offensive; it was all a little game after all) and Kira immediately unsheathed his zanpakutou, holding it with both hands in front of him. His sky blue eyes suddenly looked thunderous. “I’m warning you, Ichimaru, this time, I won’t hold back!”
Kira had barely finished his sentence before Gin flash-stepped so that he was now standing almost toe-to-toe to him, hand wrapped around the blade of Kira’s zanpakutou. The vice captain flinched. “Tsk, tsk, Kira-kun,” Gin said in a sing-song voice, as if he was telling off a five-year-old - in a way, he was. “Don’t be hasty now. Why don’t you be a good boy and put away your sword? I didn’t come here to play.” Kira’s eyes narrowed; Gin could see his mind whirring in those sky blue eyes. “Maybe another day,” he finished, and gave a little snicker.
Suddenly, a voice rose from behind the vice captain. The voice was soft, and a little raspy. “Kira. Listen to him and put away your sword.”
It was if the smile was being melted off Gin’s face. His cheeks slackened and the gleam in his eyes disappeared. He recognized that voice. How could he not? He knew that voice as well as his own.
“But-” Kira spluttered, unsure of what to do. He knew what she wanted to do, but how could he, as her friend, let this despicable traitor even step near her?
“Please, Kira,” she said, with an unusually calm voice. “Let me see him.”
And as Kira reluctantly began to move aside to reveal the face of the person he had been healing before Gin interrupted, Gin realized that, until this very moment, he had never known true fear in his life. He froze.
There on the floor, with her beautiful, wavy, ginger hair fanned out around her head, lay Matsumoto Rangiku with the entire right side of her lower torso missing, the edges of her flesh caked with dried blood.
No...No, no, no.
They instantly locked gazes. When was the last time he saw those startling blue eyes that were now boring into his own, the very same eyes that he had once almost every single day of his life? Since when have those eyes become so icy? (Her captain’s influence, he thought nastily.)
Below him, Rangiku let out a strangled cry from deep within her chest, she raised one weary, battle-worn hand and covered her lower face, muffling the one, lone quiet sob that she allowed to escape her.
It was not supposed to be like this. Rangiku was not supposed to be here. What was she doing here? How did she get hurt? A large portion of her torso was missing... For a moment, he grew angry. Why was Rangiku so careless? She was a strong, strong woman; yet she had gotten so severely injured. This wasn’t in the plan; Aizen had said...
“Still think that Kira is wasting his strength healing me?” Rangiku suddenly asked, her clear, vibrant eyes trained on him; she wouldn’t let him look away, as desperately as he wanted to. “Still think that I’m not worth saving?”
He knew that Aizen must be watching him from afar. Aizen probably already knew what was going on his mind, carefully observing to see what he was going to do. Gin was torn. His loyalty was being tested. He was putting her in danger like this. “Rangiku...”
“Don’t ‘Rangiku’ me anymore,” she snapped. “Not after all you have done to me.” Her beautiful face warped into a sneer. “So. Tell me, Ichimaru Gin, why have you come here? To torture me a little more? To play your little mind games on me? To kill me?”
Gin blanched, face whiter than ever. “No, of course not-”
“I dare you!” Rangiku was seething by now, venom and spite in her voice. Her rancor was pouring out all at once and Gin marveled at her vitality even when lying there so vulnerably. “What are you waiting for? I’m defenseless, already half dead. It would be so easy to give me the death blow. Kill me, you coward. Isn’t that why you’ve come here?”
He felt a deep pang in his chest, but it was overruled almost immediately by rage. “I am many things, Rangiku; a traitor yes, but never a coward.”
“You, not a coward?” She almost laughed derisively. “Then why can’t you speak the truth when you look me in the eye? You used to tell me everything, Gin. What happened to you? Why...” Rangiku’s voice wavered. “Why did you leave me?”
Gin could hear the desperation in her voice, the agony creased into her brow. When they were growing up together, whenever she worried unnecessarily, he’d always give her something: a piece of their favorite dried persimmon, or perhaps a stalk of a blooming flower. But now, he had nothing to give. Nothing, except for his sincerity.
He took a step forward; nearby, Kira’s hand again flew to the hilt of his zanpakutou but Rangiku waved him off, and Gin was free to proceed. When he reached her side, Gin slowly knelt down beside her, eyes cast down on to her face. Rangiku eyes had grown wide, unsure as to how to interpret his actions.
“I wanted to bring you with me, when I left Soul Society, but I already knew you wouldn’t come with me if I proposed it. Your loyalty to Hitsugaya is too great. I couldn’t tell you about Aizen... I could sense we were growing apart, we weren’t who we once were. I wasn’t even sure you wanted to be with me anymore.”
“I am who I always was, Gin,” she said softly. “It was you, it was you who were the one who was drifting away, ever since you met Aizen and joined the Fifth Division. I should have seen it long ago. What a fool I’ve been. I know I loved you, and since I thought you loved me as well, all that didn’t matter. I was living in a delusion.”
“You’re heading into dangerous territory here. Are you sure you want to continue?” he snarled.
“I’ll do whatever I want, and you’re the last person to tell me what not to do, Ichimaru,” she hissed. “The time when I hung onto your every word has passed.”
“You’re wrong. What I do with Aizen has nothing to do with you-”
“Then why did you leave, Gin?”
He remained silent.
She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, there was white-hot pain surging through them. “If you cannot even answer that question, then leave and don’t show your face to me until you can.”
“You haven’t given me a chance!”
Vivid blue eyes flashed angrily. “A chance? You want another chance? I’ve given you plenty of chances, much more than you deserve. When I held you in my arms with my zanpakutou against your throat, I gave you a chance to explain things to me, to stay behind, to surrender. You blew it, Gin.” A pause. “Tell me something: is it fun to play with a poor woman’s heart?”
Gin slowly rose from his kneeling position. He couldn’t say it aloud. He couldn’t say that he really was sorry; that he was telling the truth when he had said I wouldn’t have minded being your prisoner a little while longer; that he didn’t know what had happened to him between their days in Rukongai and the moment he joined Aizen. He couldn’t say it aloud, so he said the easiest answer that came to mind. “Yes. Yes it is.”
He watched her face set in stone. Gradually, Gin’s face readjusted so that his customary sneering eyes and fake smile were present again. It was all a show. He did not feel like his usual self; he did not feel like playing.
“I’m disappointed in you, Gin,” he heard her say.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain. I know. I am too.
And he turned his back to her and walked away, leaving her lying on the ground.
--
Rangiku stared blankly up at the sky.
It was so hard not to stare after Gin as he walked away. It would have been too painful, but she would have been able to suffer through it if only to burn one last image of Gin (and of his unyielding back) into her memory.
She wondered if she would ever see him again.
Why did you have to leave, Gin? Don’t you love me enough?
Her vision blurred, and the tears she forbade to show in front of Gin began to leak out of her eyes and down her face into her hair.
Kira, standing off to the side, silently resumed healing her.
“He’s changed, remember,” Kira said quietly, warning her from doing anything rash.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. I just wonder since when.”
--
Gin flash-stepped back to Aizen’s side with the little smile playing along his lips but his eyes told a different story. They were wide and hard and caught Aizen’s own eyes as Gin walked past him.
You promised me, Gin silently accused. Rangiku was never supposed to get hurt.
Aizen needed no words to make his meaning clear as daylight. And you promised me to cut all ties. You didn’t. That was your mistake, Gin.
And Gin knew he was right.
--
fin
Don't forget to comment & critique!