chronicle of a thought
Matsumoto Rangiku, Ichimaru Gin, Hitsugaya Toushirou
949 words
I had a brilliant idea, but it came out... well... like this. Written as an bleach_exchange back up fic for aviss
She could still remember the gritty feel of the parched ground beneath her bare hands. There had not been rain in months, and the ground had been so dry, baked under the scorching heat of the sun until cracks had formed as the soil broke apart. Rangiku remembered lying there, the rays of the sun beating down on her like heated anvils, the weight pressing down on her chest cavity until she couldn't breathe any more. The trees around her had been withered husks of what they could have been, branches brittle instead of springy, leaves a dull brown instead of the fresh green they should have been, wretched remnants of a broken spirit and a starving body. She had been so weak, so thirsty, so stupid to think that she might have found water in this godforsaken bit of land.
And so she was dying. Was it even possible to die here, in this land that everybody went to in death? She had wondered at the time. Her naivete made her cling selfishly to the pathetic sliver of life that she had had in Rukongai. If she was going to die, and it had seemed the likely end when she had not even the energy to move, Rangiku had been determined not to do it without a fight. She wanted to live, dammit. Still she lay on the ground, her body weak from hunger and pain. She had thought that souls of the dead could not feel any hunger, only thirst, so why was her stomach growling? Why was she so weak?
That was when he had appeared, her silver-haired angel with the smile she had thought so kind. He had given her those dates, and then left, and Rangiku had assumed a one time meeting, like was common in Rukongai. What would her reaction have been had she known that their paths would cross again? They had met years later, when both had become shinigami with the gotei 13. but had ended with the both of them high-ranking shinigami of Soul Society. At that point, she had thought herself finally separated from him. Their interactions in the intervening time had been slanted more towards the professional side of their relationship, though Gin would bring up their prior meeting time and again.
When Gin had attacked her taichou and almost killed the innocent though misguided Hinamori, Rangiku had been there to prevent it. In that moment, Rangiku had thought her loyalties aligned with Hitsugaya and with her division. She had blocked his blade with hers, even wrapped a challenge up in her threat, and he had retreated, though she was sure that he would have easily beaten her had they come to blows. She had not yet attained his level. He had turned his back on them again, and she experienced a sense of deja vu, as if they were both still back out in the wilds of Rukongai so many years before. Why did he always leave with that smile on his face? Gin had always been an enigma.
She had never trusted him.
And yet, his last words continued to haunt her. It's a little disappointing, Rangiku... I really wouldn't have minded being bound for a little while longer... Those words followed her in her dreams, and even now, so many weeks after the fact, she found herself half-wishing that he had taken her with him. She'd been holding him by the wrist... why had she let go? If she hadn't, she'd be up there in Hueco Mundo with Gin... and the traitors Aizen and Tousen. Deep in her heart, Matsumoto wondered if she had made the correct choice, and almost immediately castigated herself for thinking such blasphemies. Bound a little longer... Was she not the one bound now? Gin had left her again, and though she knew where he was going this time, she had no idea of his motivations or his plans. Aizen's ambitions were so clear, Tousen's motivations had been explicitly spelled out, but nobody had questioned Gin at all. What was he planning?
She had tried turning to the welcome oblivion of alcohol, but not even evenings spent wildly carousing with Kira and Shuuhei helped her in forgetting that easy smile and languid gaze. Damn that Gin. Why now? Why now after all those years? The past had been relegated to the mists of time, or so Rangiku had thought. With one sentence, Gin had brought it all to the fore. What was he doing now in Hueco Mundo? What did he want to achieve?
"Matsumoto."
The curt voice woke her from her reverie, and she whipped around, blonde hair flying, bosom bouncing. Her heart was racing, and Rangiku could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm herself down before replying, "Taichou?"
Hitsugaya's pointed look at her desk, piled high with papers awaiting her review, was indication of what he required of her. If only life was as easy, everything laid out clearly with a pointed glance at a task to be done. Even now, as she settled down behind her desk, Rangiku wondered if she had made the right decision. While her pen scratched out accustomed figures on the parchment, Rangiku wondered if she would continue performing her job, the loyal fukutaichou to her superior.
Would she find that she had been bound irrevocably to the first silver-haired man who had entered her life? Would she forsake her current standing here in Soul Society for the uncertain thrill that Gin offered? Was he even offering? Or would he reject her before she even asked?
In the end, where would her loyalties lie?
949 words
I had a brilliant idea, but it came out... well... like this. Written as an bleach_exchange back up fic for aviss
She could still remember the gritty feel of the parched ground beneath her bare hands. There had not been rain in months, and the ground had been so dry, baked under the scorching heat of the sun until cracks had formed as the soil broke apart. Rangiku remembered lying there, the rays of the sun beating down on her like heated anvils, the weight pressing down on her chest cavity until she couldn't breathe any more. The trees around her had been withered husks of what they could have been, branches brittle instead of springy, leaves a dull brown instead of the fresh green they should have been, wretched remnants of a broken spirit and a starving body. She had been so weak, so thirsty, so stupid to think that she might have found water in this godforsaken bit of land.
And so she was dying. Was it even possible to die here, in this land that everybody went to in death? She had wondered at the time. Her naivete made her cling selfishly to the pathetic sliver of life that she had had in Rukongai. If she was going to die, and it had seemed the likely end when she had not even the energy to move, Rangiku had been determined not to do it without a fight. She wanted to live, dammit. Still she lay on the ground, her body weak from hunger and pain. She had thought that souls of the dead could not feel any hunger, only thirst, so why was her stomach growling? Why was she so weak?
That was when he had appeared, her silver-haired angel with the smile she had thought so kind. He had given her those dates, and then left, and Rangiku had assumed a one time meeting, like was common in Rukongai. What would her reaction have been had she known that their paths would cross again? They had met years later, when both had become shinigami with the gotei 13. but had ended with the both of them high-ranking shinigami of Soul Society. At that point, she had thought herself finally separated from him. Their interactions in the intervening time had been slanted more towards the professional side of their relationship, though Gin would bring up their prior meeting time and again.
When Gin had attacked her taichou and almost killed the innocent though misguided Hinamori, Rangiku had been there to prevent it. In that moment, Rangiku had thought her loyalties aligned with Hitsugaya and with her division. She had blocked his blade with hers, even wrapped a challenge up in her threat, and he had retreated, though she was sure that he would have easily beaten her had they come to blows. She had not yet attained his level. He had turned his back on them again, and she experienced a sense of deja vu, as if they were both still back out in the wilds of Rukongai so many years before. Why did he always leave with that smile on his face? Gin had always been an enigma.
She had never trusted him.
And yet, his last words continued to haunt her. It's a little disappointing, Rangiku... I really wouldn't have minded being bound for a little while longer... Those words followed her in her dreams, and even now, so many weeks after the fact, she found herself half-wishing that he had taken her with him. She'd been holding him by the wrist... why had she let go? If she hadn't, she'd be up there in Hueco Mundo with Gin... and the traitors Aizen and Tousen. Deep in her heart, Matsumoto wondered if she had made the correct choice, and almost immediately castigated herself for thinking such blasphemies. Bound a little longer... Was she not the one bound now? Gin had left her again, and though she knew where he was going this time, she had no idea of his motivations or his plans. Aizen's ambitions were so clear, Tousen's motivations had been explicitly spelled out, but nobody had questioned Gin at all. What was he planning?
She had tried turning to the welcome oblivion of alcohol, but not even evenings spent wildly carousing with Kira and Shuuhei helped her in forgetting that easy smile and languid gaze. Damn that Gin. Why now? Why now after all those years? The past had been relegated to the mists of time, or so Rangiku had thought. With one sentence, Gin had brought it all to the fore. What was he doing now in Hueco Mundo? What did he want to achieve?
"Matsumoto."
The curt voice woke her from her reverie, and she whipped around, blonde hair flying, bosom bouncing. Her heart was racing, and Rangiku could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm herself down before replying, "Taichou?"
Hitsugaya's pointed look at her desk, piled high with papers awaiting her review, was indication of what he required of her. If only life was as easy, everything laid out clearly with a pointed glance at a task to be done. Even now, as she settled down behind her desk, Rangiku wondered if she had made the right decision. While her pen scratched out accustomed figures on the parchment, Rangiku wondered if she would continue performing her job, the loyal fukutaichou to her superior.
Would she find that she had been bound irrevocably to the first silver-haired man who had entered her life? Would she forsake her current standing here in Soul Society for the uncertain thrill that Gin offered? Was he even offering? Or would he reject her before she even asked?
In the end, where would her loyalties lie?