Of Inevitable Departures and Long-Overdue Arrivals

- O what a beautiful mess their souls had gotten themselves into.

"Where are you going?"

"Sleep, Rangiku, I'll just hafta take a walk," Ichimaru Gin grinned at her, waving his little hand to gesture he'd just be out in a while.

"Hmmp! Will you be here when I wake up?" she pouted, knowing all too well that he wouldn't, but she'd just have to ask – out of habit.

"Aa." And it would always be his answer – out of habit, perhaps.

"Can you bring me persimmons, Gin? It's the season for it, isn't it?" He nodded and smiled reassuringly. He walked out into the dark alleys of Rukongai, and Matsumoto Rangiku slipped back into the thin covers of a make-shift blanket.

She would always wake up in the middle of the night to find Gin shuffling for a coat, ready to take his midnight walks; to where, she would never know.

It surprised her that she could still go back to sleep, despite knowing that he was roaming outside, in streets dangerous for children like them. Maybe the fact that she knew he would always return to their little shack in the outskirts of the Rukongai – no matter how long he would go away – eased her worries.

And in that truth, she willed herself into slumber.

"Where are you going, Gin?" She poked him in the head with the sheath of her sword.

"Yo!" He turned around and flashed her one of his impish smiles. His eyes all in slits, never showing her the color of his eyes long enough for her to admire; or to know if she could see her reflection at all if he would gaze upon her.

Like always.

And Rangiku would always know what his response would be. Yet she still asked, probably hoping this time he'd give her a proper answer.

"I'll be back."

And Gin would be gone, never asking her if she wanted to come along. For she would always say yes, as she had always wanted to go to where ever he'd disappear to.

"Won't you join us for a little sake?"

"Drink some for me, Ran, but don't ya drink too much." And with a wave of his hand to bid her goodbye, he shunpoed to the place much more important than having a relaxing evening drinking sake with her.

"Yes. I won't," she answered back, only to let the wind carry her words to no one in particular but to the starless sky, waning moon and the cold breeze of the winter night.

This time, she closed the windows and turned back to the group of shinigami to keep her company. All these years, she had grown use to his habit.

She would still ask him where he'd go; he'd still keep that information from her. She would ask him to bring her persimmons when he returned; he would always deliver a basketful of them in the morning in her bedside table in the 10th division quarters.

She would still ask him to watch the fireworks during a festival; he would just smile back and promise her he'd be watching it with her from afar.

He would leave; she would wait; he'd return. And the cycle went on until she was used to his departure.

But still she would hope that at one point he would be aware of her silent anticipation on complete answers he could supply her, not vague smiles and unconvincing waves.

That was all she had wanted.

To let her in, to let her feel that she was important enough to at least know what he was up to, or how his day went.

Was he okay? Had his trainings and missions with his squad gone well? Was he ever pressured, being Captain?

Sometimes, she dared to dream of him asking her if she wanted to run away. With him. And she knew she would nod her head and smile back. Just to not stay and be left behind again without him saying why.

She dared to imagine herself giving up the lieutenant seat to go with him, for she knew, in reality, he would never ask her of it.

And it never did come.

But she silently waited.

Still.

Hopeful.

Patient.

In love.

"…Everything I'm about to say is true…" Knees grew weak after hearing 4th Division Lieutenant Kotetsu Isane's voice through the binding spell.

Gin, what have you done?

Her body willed itself to move on despite the weak, heavy composure building up inside her. Shunpo sparked her feet faster than forks of lightning she never knew she could do.

What have you done?! She kept asking, half expecting him to answer back. Half cursing herself for still waiting for an answer that would never come, even if he was actually standing in front of her.

The buildings, the village, the whole of Soul Society dissolved around her as she raced to the execution hill. To where she could feel Gin's reiatsu.

And like always, his was too calm she couldn't feel it spike up an inch. And that frustrated her. If she couldn't know what he was thinking, she could at least feel him or understand him through random surges of his reiatsu.

But everything about him was silent.

As if deliberately blocking her out. Was there ever a time when his reiatsu spiked? When he was angry, or when he was happy?

When he looked at her, did it ever move around just like her emotions scarpering from a broken bottle she carefully kept hidden away from her heart?

It never did.

"Don't move, please."

Even now, as I hold your hand in captivity, it never did.

His head turned a fraction enough for her to see his eyes.

Closed eyes.

What do your eyes say, Gin? Do they still scream life like the first time I saw you?

She felt for him again. And again, his reiatsu was in a disturbing peace.

"Sorry, Captain Aizen, she got me."

Sometimes she wished he'd fight her. This time, she hoped he would turn around and draw his zanpakutou and strike at her.

It would have been easier to hate him.

Let go of everything she had bottled up inside and hate him enough to kill him.

But he never did.

And you confuse me more than necessary. As if you had regarded me with care all this time, or was it just my wishful thinking?

The whole world seemed to stop around them, only leaving their hearts to beat synchronously. She could feel his pulse around her fingers. As if his heart was literally held in her hand.

Suddenly, a ray of light dawned upon him and he flipped her hand away. He ironically looked like an angel sent down for her, but heaven asked for him back too soon.

"It would have been nice if my capture lasted a little longer…" he whispered, his back facing her still. "Farewell, Rangiku."

Farewell… Farewell… Farewell… Gin, what are you talking about?

And he slightly looked at her, gave her his most beautiful smile, one she had never seen him use before.

"Gomen." The ground below him broke to lift him up – like an angel ascending back to the heavens.

Her eyes followed him as he rose, unable to relieve her heart of the singeing needles that morbidly pierced through it.

Where are you going? Will you be here in the morning? Can you bring me persimmons, Gin? Will you watch the fireworks with me in the winter?

Where are you going?

Questions she never had a chance – never had the gall – to ask. For she knew all too well he was out of reach to hear it. Nor would he be kind enough to answer.

What a cruel… man.

It was a defeated battle.

True, Aizen Sousuke was godly and could defeat them all in a whim. He was strong enough to battle half – if not all – of them. But the fight has been stretch far too long, and the appearance of Urahara Kisuke and the other Captains from Hueco Mundo had edged them out from victory.

Captain Aizen had signaled a retreat. But Ichimaru Gin wasn't moving.

His eyes were slightly opened, watching a certain strawberry-blond-haired woman sprawled across a huge slab of cement. Captain Unohana was tending to her meticulously.

And when the medic stood up, and smiled to the others around them, Gin let out a lungful of air he didn't realize he was holding in.

What a beautiful mess this is.

Even in the midst of all the chaos, of all the blood and all the torn pieces of yukata cloths, Matsumoto Rangiku still managed to make him stop in awe and dream of cold winter mornings where the persimmon trees bear orange fruits in contrast to the stark white snow.

What a beautiful mess indeed.

It took him huge amounts of willpower to keep himself from running to her side the minute he felt her reiatsu pummeled to a minimum – a horrifying minimum. The huge opening in her abdomen even made his resolve to stay away waver in impossible frequencies.

Still, her weakened image weakened him. After all, she was the only one who made him as weak as a dead log.

When she laughed that loud cheery laugh the whole of Soul Society could hear, his stomach flipped over like pancakes and eggs in the morning. When she pouts and wrinkled her nose at him, his mask turned to invisible dusts and his lips unconsciously formed a small smile he didn't know could make her weak as well.

When she drew her zanpakutou in such a graceful way as if inviting him in a slow dance of shamisens and soft drums and falling petals, his desire to kill dissolved with each step she took.

And most of all, when she cried, his hands would make the gentlest gestures to hush her that no pain could ever break her again.

"Stay back, Taichou!" He heard Hisagi Shuuhei warn him. "Stay back, Ichimaru Gin! I don't want to fight you!"

Only then did he realize he was only meters away from her, and that his body was still moving on its own, as if being pulled into an unknown force.

He saw her flinch as she tried to open her eyes. He grinned, ignoring Shuuhei beside him.

"Gin." She whispered hoarsely, but it was too beautiful a messy voice that his knees buckled anew.

He was suddenly kneeling beside her, and he flicked his fingers on her forehead. "Ya feeling better, Rangiku?"

Gin didn't miss the way her eyes widened a fraction, surprised as his unexpected caring.

"Gin. Why?" It was a question he never wanted to answer, especially not to her. Of all people, not her. But it's too late, wasn't it? He tried to keep his whereabouts from her to at least censor her from whatever evil his hands had came in contact with.

But it's too late now.

In her eyes, he was nothing more than a traitor who broke the very system of the Soul Society.

The man who broke the very foundations her heart had clung to.

He could only shrug. He reached for his pocket and retrieved a persimmon fruit. "I just brought ya some persimmon. Eat up and get well." Gin opened her palm, rubbed his thumb against the calloused yet soft palm his own palm had so often kissed way, way back, and then rested the fruit in it.

"Gin, I can't stop dreaming about you."

He frowned.

He knew of her love. And hopefully she knew his. But it was silent knowledge that an approaching separation was yet to dawn upon them. And to top it all off, it was as inevitable as the change of seasons.

And their love would not survive the painfully cold winter that fate had awarded them.

"Rest, Rangiku." He stood up, but she caught his wrist and pulled him back down.

"No, Gin. You won't be here when I wake up." Her grip tightened.

Her face was tired, but beautiful. A beautiful, sad face.

"Gomen." He was no longer smiling. He couldn't bring himself to wear that mask anymore.

"Don't say that again!"

"Rangiku."

Her lashes lowered to hide her eyes, and her grip softened.

"Won't you be coming home?" Her words were enough to break him, but he was still stubborn to give in.

"Maybe someday," he answered. "But don't wait up for too long. It'd tire ya out."

She scoffed bitterly. "I can't help it."

"Gome–"

"STOP! Stop saying that." He saw her fists clenched. A long pregnant pause engulfed them. "Go, Gin."

He stared at her, surprised that she was letting him go, finally surrendering. Her high spirits were drained. Even the strong-willed Matsumoto Rangiku knew when to finally give up.

And that fact honestly made him shatter inside.

He stood up, and when he was about to turn around and walk away, again, she spoke.

"For what it's worth, Gin, you are my special person. Always had been since you saved me. It was my birthday, do you remember?"

"Aa."

"And you'll always be, no matter what. And sometimes, I hate myself for letting my heart beat for someone like you…"

He knew, he didn't deserve her, nor did she deserve someone like him.

"…but sometimes, I'm happy just having that special feeling, and I'd think it was all worth it."

He didn't have words for her.

"Maybe waiting for that basket of persimmons in my table would be worth it, so better make sure you'd bring me some, bastard!"

He smiled that most beautiful smile he could only give to her. He breathed in a gulp of air, as if what he heard brought him confidence like a schoolboy ready to take on any bullies.

"Ja, Rangiku. Maybe someday, I could bring you baskets of persimmons everyday."

He knew it was only foolish wishful thinking. But still, even Ichimaru Gin and Matsumoto Rangiku – no matter how messy their love affair could be – deserved even just a tiny pinch of hope.

AN: Hope you like it! My first attempt on GinRan and other fandom other than Naruto!!! Had fun doing it. Too much angst, but I love it still. I love angst!!! Enjoy!! Ammm, Reviews? Please? THanks!

AN: Hope you like it! My first attempt on GinRan and other fandom other than Naruto!!! Had fun doing it. Too much angst, but I love it still. I love angst!!! Enjoy!! Ammm, Reviews? Please? THanks!