Gin didn't approach the girl lying on the ground right away. For a moment he watched the light flicking through the forest tree tops blink over her, no sign of movement from the body he knew to be female. The light danced across her chest and shoulders beneath the trees that moved under the warm breeze.

She didn't move, lying on her back, the light playing shades of bright copper through her strawberry blonde hair. After a moment of careful study Gin saw her chest slowly rise and fall in shallow breaths. She had a particularly well endowed bosom for a girl her age, his age, as far as he could tell. He hadn't gotten too close to too many girls his age in Rukongai. Most were put off by what he'd heard was a shifty look to his features.

He sighed, edging closer, hugging his precious persimmons to his chest. A body in the forest was one thing, but the dead body of a girl about his age was worse. Not good. At least she wasn't dead. Maybe close to it, though, judging from her condition.

He was within arm's reach when he squatted beside her, eyes roving over her bare feet and slender ankles to her dirty and rumpled clothing that was as frayed and worn as his own.

Bodies lying unattended could be traps, and while Gin had nothing of worth to steal if she was some sort of bait, he valued his persimmons. He stood, at the ready to run if need be, feeling a slight swell of familiarity from her. She was like him. He could feel it.

Her lips moved as if to swallow, but they were too dry, her movements weak.

He held a persimmon out to her, the edge touching her parched lips. "Here. Eat this."

It wasn't the most inviting thing to say, and he'd wanted to be more eloquent when first meeting anyone who might be like him -- might have that surge in his body that made him hunger unlike the rest of the villagers.

Her eyes flitted open, catching him off guard in their blueness. He smiled a little. "If you're hungry," he added, not knowing what else to say. "Are you?"

Her eyes focused on the fruit, her hand going to her face, and then reaching for the offering. She took a bite, eyes closing only to open and shoot to him as she chewed dryly.

He crouched and sat back as she took another bite. "You've got it too. Don't know if it's a blessing or a curse yet. But it's different, you know?"

She licked her lips and took a moment to brace her elbow beneath her and sit up, leaning to one hip, the half eaten persimmon tight in her hand.

His gaze dropped to where the front of her kimono had fallen open a bit, exposing nothing of her chest, but less than decent. She gave him a meek look and pulled it shut, tightening the sash at her waist with one hand.

"Well, if you're nigh onto collapsing from hunger, you've got it," he said when she didn't say anything, munching on the persimmon, eyes on him. "No one here understands it. The hunger."

She nodded.

"I'm Gin. Gin Ichimaru," he said when she swallowed the last big bite of the fruit. "You got a name to tell?"

"Rangiku," she said hoarsely, coughing a little. She belched, seeming surprised by it. "Rangiku Matsumoto."

He nodded, grinning, hoping for the same from her. A hint of smile crossed her dry lips.

"Nice to meet you, Rangiku Matsumoto." He held out another persimmon. "You live around here? A tree? A cave, maybe?"

She smiled more, giggling a bit. "No. Not in a tree, or a cave." She looked down at the persimmon, licking her lips that were beginning to crack. "Do you?"

He shrugged, hugging the rest of the persimmons closer. "No, not a tree or a cave."

This time her smile was more until she took a bite of the second fruit.

"But, yep, I live around here." He stood up. "You think you can walk around, Rangiku Matsumoto?"

She nodded, the persimmon tight in her hand, one cheek bulging with a large bite as she chewed. She looked to his hand as he worked one free from the persimmons and extended it to her. Her eyes rose to his.

"Come on. I'll show you where." His smile creased wider, sun topping almost white on his hair, his eyes seeming to disappear in the smile.

"Show me?" Suspicion hinted her voice.

His fingers curled in beckon, palm up. "Rain's coming soon. We can beat it back and stay dry, but you gotta get on your feet, Rangiku Matsumoto."

She looked to the sky above the gently swaying tree tops. "I don't see any clouds."

"You can smell the rain, can't you? Water in the air?"

All she could smell at that moment was persimmons and something else. Maybe not a smell, but a thick feeling that wasn't on her skin. Somewhere beneath her skin, inside her clothes.

"Come on. We can get outta the rain. More to eat," he said, grin turning enticing.

She smiled faintly. She let her hand rest in his, a little embarrassed at the dirt on her fingers. He didn't seem to notice, hand closing around hers as she rose. Her other hand was at her kimono collar as it loosened again, the persimmon still clutched.

He looked up at her, her height topping his by a few inches. "You always go with strangers?"

There was nothing harsh in his tone, simply a cautious wonder. She shook her head, the movement bringing on a little dizziness. His fingers closed tighter on hers as he saw her sway.

"How far?" she asked.

"Not too much." He stepped away, one hand on the persimmons bundled to his chest as he pulled her with him. "Not too much to see, but it's dry, if you sit in the right spots."

She nodded.