Author's Note: GinxRangiku one-shot. I haven't seen many things from Ichimaru's point of view, it's usually Matsumoto's, so I decided to write this about Ichimaru. I hope you like it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!

It had never occured to him that leaving would be this hard. Sure, he had thought about it many times, and knew that it wasn't going to be easy, but he had no clue how horrible he would feel afterwards. Day in and day out, she was all he could think about. The last expressions on her face as he left her still haunted his dreams. She was imprinted forever in his life, and he knew she would never go away. The guilt would never cease to tear at him.

The artificial sun above Las Noches had set, and it's inhabitants were turning in. Ichimaru Gin sat at his bedside, once again thinking about her. His face was in his hands, covering up his uncharacteristic frown. The door to his room was locked. Chances were, nobody would walk in anyway, but he felt more comfortable locking the rest of the world out.

Ichimaru slowly got up, slipping off his bed and kneeling on the cold floor. He reached under his bed and pulled out a bottle of sake. Three quarters of it had already been drank. By the end of the night, he would need a new bottle.

Getting back on his bed, the ex-Captain popped the cork and took a swig of the alcohol. Matsumoto had always loved drinking sake. Drinking reminded him of her. They had gotten drunk together quite a few times when he still lived in Soul Society. His sake in Las Noches helped him feel somewhat connected to the Shinigami. As he took another sip, he wondered what she was doing right now. Maybe she was drinking, too. Thinking of her hurt. The first few drinks were always the hardest. The alcohol hadn't set in yet in order to numb the feelings. Never in his life had he felt so torn. He felt downright evil. Not for betraying Soul Society, but for leaving the only woman he truly cared about. It would have been less painful if she had run him through with her blade and left him there to die. He deserved worse.

The alcohol was starting to kick in, and Ichimaru put the bottle to his lips once more. A bigger gulp this time. He didn't want to prolong the pain by drinking small amounts at a time. He liked sitting here, alone in his room. He didn't have to fake a smile here. It was characteristic of him to walk around smiling, so he continued to do so at Las Noches. Though now, his expression was never genuine. He had to smile, it was his best mask. Nobody could ever know what he went through every night before falling asleep. Besides, Aizen would never understand his feelings for Rangiku.

He could remember the times before coming to Hueco Mundo. Sure, plenty tended to distance themselves from him, but when he was with Matsumoto, his smile was always true. He was always happiest around her. They would laugh all night, getting drunk on sake, and sometimes he would pass out and wake up in her room on the floor the next morning. He had never realized how much he took those times for granted. He'd give anything for them again. Every night with Matsumoto was a fun one. At least, every night up until the last one.

The night before Aizen would put his plan into action, Ichimaru made a point of spending time with Matsumoto. That was the first time he'd hidden his true feelings from her beneath a false smile. He doubted she noticed after getting drunk. He had tried hard to make the night fun. Matsumoto seemed to have been enjoying herself, and he did, too, but it was weighed down with the knowledge he'd soon be leaving. He could still remember how her hair smelled that night. Cherry blossom, one of her favorite shampoos. She had been wearing his favorite perfume, too. Ichimaru wondered if she had been too drunk to remember the last kiss they had shared. He had hidden the sorrow in it with intensity, hoping to make it linger after they were apart. He wondered if Matsumoto noticed the gentle apology of his lips in the end. Knowing it would be the last time, Ichimaru had made sure not to get too drunk so that he would remember it all. Matsumoto always had a habit of taking it too far, though, so there was a good chance she didn't remember it all nor interpret it the right way. She had passed out before him that night, laying in his lap. For a long time he just sat there, stroking her cheeks and listening to her soft, steady breathing. He wasn't sure how long he had stayed there, but he had returned to his own room before she had woken up.

Then, there were the very last moments he had seen her.

That time, there was no way to hide emotions beneath a smile. Ichimaru was glad Matsumoto had been the one to try to stop him. It made her the last person he had been in contact with before his departure. She'd had a tight grip on his wrist, and the sword she held at his neck had trembled ever so slightly. That last expression on her face was the one that haunted him the most. After she had let go of him, the beam of light forcing them apart, he couldn't fake a smile. He turned to apologize one last time. He knew the sorrow in his expression was clear by the look of surprise Matsumoto had given him. There wasn't even a trace of his usual grin to be found. Ichimaru wondered if she would ever forgive him. Given the chance, she would probably call him an idiot and toss an empty bottle of sake at his head. The thought almost made him chuckle.

Ichimaru let out a heavy sigh. How much longer could he go on like this? The waves of sorrow were becoming more and more unbearable every night. He thought the pain would recede as time went on, but the longer he was away from Matsumoto, the worse it got. Hopefully, he wouldn't slip up in front of Aizen one day. Ichimaru usually kept himself busy doing other things, but he could only mess with the corridors so much before that got boring. Even playing pranks on the extremely dense Yami could only keep his mind off Matsumoto for so long. It didn't help that with every passing day, the inevitable battle between Shinigami and Arrancar was drawing closer.

Without a doubt, Matsumoto would get involved. Not only was she a vice-captain, but she was strong. She wasn't one to stand back and let others fight. That was one thing Ichimaru loved about her. Soon, that might be one thing Ichimaru hated about her. He wished she wouldn't get involved, but he knew that would never happen. A confrontation was unavoidable. He had sealed his fate when he left Soul Society. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of getting hurt, he deserved as much, but it was the thought of Matsumoto being hurt. He wouldn't care if he sliced him to bits as much as he would if she was hurt in battle. Ichimaru could never live with himself if she was killed because of him. He wouldn't fight her, he couldn't

It was getting harder to concentrate. Fatigue was catching up with Ichimaru, both physically and mentally. No matter what happened, he couldn't let Matsumoto get hurt in this upcoming battle. He had to do whatever he could to ensure her safety. He would kill for her. Maybe if he were killed in battle, it would be a good thing. If he were killed, he couldn't hurt the one person he loved anymore. If he were killed, he couldn't protect her, either. He couldn't die knowing she was still in danger. Perhaps, he could protect her. Then afterwards, he would be killed for treason, either by Soul Society or Aizen. Whatever happened, he couldn't let Matsumoto get hurt. He made a silent vow to protect her no matter what.

Ichimaru's eyelids slowly fell. Finally, the traitor fell into a restless slumber, his empty bottle of sake laying in his open hand beside him.