Nooooooo! It's ending and I don't know what I'm going to do with myself! I mean, I'm really excited to be able to write other stuff now, but I've gotten so attached to this story!

For those of you who didn't get this from that, this is the last chapter (nnnnooo) and since I hate seeing Author's Notes at the actual endings of stories, I'm going to put it all here (deep breath).

I have had so much fun writing this story, and I sincerely hope everyone reading this has had just as much fun reading it. I still feel so new to writing actually plot-driven stories, and I thank everyone who has held out with me all the way till the end! It means so much to me that you have taken the time to read my work, and I have been absolutely on cloud nine reading everybody's reviews and seeing the stats on this story go up every day. I really appreciate all the feedback I've gotten, and I just have to say this but holyheckhowdidthishappen this story actually received more than twenty reviews. I am floored by this and I am grateful to you all. Wow that was complete mush.

Anyway, please enjoy the last (*sniff*) chapter of Second Chances.

Three months later, Rangiku entered the cell for the last time, a wakizashi wrapped loosely in thin cloth held in her hands. A large number of guards entered behind her, as well as Hitsugaya, Otoribashi, Ukitake, and Kyoraku.

Gin's eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly at the sight of the short sword. Before she could hand it to him, though, Ukitake stepped forward with a thin bracelet of sorts. Gin stepped back warily. The captain of the Thirteenth smiled kindly.

"Don't worry. It is a tracking device, so we can tell where you are at all times. It will also suppress one-third of your reiatsu to prevent any incidents. These were the requirements set down by the Central forty-six for your freedom. You will receive your zanpakuto back, though the power suppression will likely keep you from going into bankai, and you are free to live where you please."

He stepped forward and bent down to clip it onto Gin's ankle. The former captain did not protest, but he was still wary.

"I assume it was made by the Twelfth, mmm? Should I be 'spectin' any surprises, Ukitake-san?"

Ukitake chuckled, "No, it was tested on me, actually, for about a week, though the Twelfth had already been told that it had been activated on the you. If anything does happen, though, feel free to report it."

A guard stepped forward to disengage the sekkiseki cuffs, and Gin's hands involuntarily massaged his wrists. All present could feel the power flowing back into him, and while some of the guards flinched, it leveled out after a certain point, and Rangiku knew Gin would have suppressed it anyway.

The bars rose, and Rangiku walked to him, as slowly as she could manage. She handed him Shinso, and his mask-like smile became strained with relief and a vague sense of alarm as his zanpakuto berated him for the first time in four months. He flinched, and the captains present laughed.

"She's not so happy with me, right now," he explained, bringing on another wave of laughter from those experienced with the trials of zanpakuto use. The laughter acted as a sort of dismissal as the tension drained away, and all present but Rangiku and Kyoraku ambled out and away.

The silence was broken by Kyoraku. "Will, I be seeing you in Seireitei, Ichimaru-san?" They all knew what he was really asking. Will you be staying with her?

"Well..." If I can. A hint of a smile touched Rangiku's face (I'm surprised you even asked), and he nodded.

"Yeah. Ya will. I... I might go on a vacation ta the Rukongai first, but I will."

Kyoraku smiled warmly. "Wonderful." He began walking away, and the door was half-closed before Gin spoke.

"Thank ya, Soutaichou-san."

"Oh, don't thank me. Thank Kuchiki-taichou. Congratulations on your release, Ichimaru-san." With that, the door slid shut, and the silence where the usual click of a closed lock would sound rang out in the room.

Alone, they stumbled into each other's arms, and Gin started apologizing.

"I'm sorry, Ran-chan. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell ya anything. I'm sorry I left. I'm—"

She cut him off by pressing her lips to his. They separated, and she laced her fingers through his as they exited the building, gripping tighter when he started to pull away at the sight of other people.

The people were, of course, staring in astonishment. It was no secret that Matsumoto Rangiku was no stranger to alcohol and the dark back rooms with smells of sweat and cheap perfume that occasionally came with her excessive intake of the stuff. Heck, she had even had one or two boyfriends in the past six years. No, the causes of their fascination were the linked hands swinging between the two souls. Matsumoto Rangiku did not hold hands with anyone.

They moved quickly, not because Rangiku didn't want anyone to see them, but because there were a few certain people who deserved explanations first.

They reached her apartment, where she requested he stay for the next thirty minutes before he began his wandering. He agreed, not at all surprised by the request. There had been a significant rise in angry reiatsu at the Fifth when the captains had been informed that Ichimaru Gin, ex-traitor, was going to be allowed to live in Seireitei if he so desired, after all. It had been tempered by a bit of fear from the same source and a sinking feeling emanating from the Thirteenth. There had been scattered pockets of angry reiatsu flaring throughout Seireitei that whole day, in fact.

She stepped outside, closing the door but leaving it unlocked since he was there for the time being. Stepping into flash step before she could change her mind, Rangiku touched down lightly outside the Fifth offices. She took a deep, fortifying breath and knocked.

"Come in."

She slid open the door cautiously. Both officers were sitting at their desks doing paperwork. Hirako looked up and smiled, but there was something wary in his demeanour. Hinamori was firmly refusing to look up at her. Her reiatsu was on lockdown, and the only thing that betrayed her was a slight tremor in her hand and a quick tapping noise that was undoubtedly a foot.

"Heya, Rangiku-fukutaichou. How can I help ya?"

"Um, I was wondering if it would be possible for me to, um, borrow Hinamori?"

The dam broke, and Rangiku barely had time to dodge as a ball of fire the size of her head was hurled at her. Hinamori was standing behind her desk, the chair behind her knocked over. She was panting and staring at her hand in a mixture of horror and anger.

"Hmm..."" Hirako stood and walked around the desk to lean against it. "It would seem that would be unadvisable, if ya catch my drift. I'd be happy to moderate, though, if ya like."

Rangiku smiled, but it was strained.

"Um, Hinamori? I'm sorry I... I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I just wanted to put off you hating me for as long as possible. But maybe it would have been easier? If I had, um, told... you... Hinamori?"

"I'm a horrible person." It was barely a whisper, but it traveled easily in the silence of the office.

"What?" Rangiku took a step forward, but she flinched and stopped when Hinamori looked up at her. Those eyes. What on earth is happening inside her head?

"I raised my hand against another friend. I am a horrible person. Shiro-chan, Kira-kun, Rangiku-san."

"No, Hinamori! I'm apologizing to you! I was the one who did wrong!"

The petite lieutenant of the Fifth began to shake, sweat becoming visible at her hairline even at Rangiku's distance.

"No! Hinamori!" Hirako dove forward to clamp a hand over her mouth before she screamed. Even so, Rangiku could make out the name and former title of the man currently residing deep underground of Seireitei.

Rangiku had barely made it behind Hinamori's desk before she collapsed, and she carefully supported her as Hinamori began to regain some semblance of control. The hallucination ended, and Hinamori sagged against her.

"I'm sorry, Rangiku-san." And for a moment, her voice was that of the scared girl who had been manipulated by Aizen.

"No, Hinamori. I'm sorry. For not telling you and making you angry and triggering your PTSD." Her captain had told her about the hallucinations, since he had often been forced awake in the small hours of the night to make sure she didn't accidentally (or intentionally) kill herself.

"It's all right. I forgive you."

Rangiku smiled softly. Trust Hinamori.

They sat back to back in their little shack, deep in the forests outside the districts. They both wore simple yukatas and had opted to go barefoot.

He had laughed at her for her thin-soled feet on the trek there, though his had smarted and bled just as much as hers. When they arrived, he offered her a dried persimmon, and they sat down.

He told her everything, then. Even the things she had found out on her own and told him as part of her story to human Gin he reiterated, correcting certain things she couldn't have known and adding parts that helped everything make more sense.

They were both crying by the time he got to his death, dark spots appearing on the dusty, warped boards below them. When he finished, she started. She told him what had happened after he died. When all the stories were told and both of their throats were sore from speaking and crying, they stretched out on the floor.

They had to lie diagonally now to fit in the small shed. Gin swore it had shrunk; they couldn't have grown that much. Rangiku just laughed and felt the thrill of finally being able to know that he wasn't leaving her. There were no hidden motives, his quest for revenge had (mostly) come to fruition, and he wasn't even a shinigami anymore.

He had moved into her apartment permanently before they left, and she had dragged him around Soul Society to all the usual places. They had been to favorite bars in the Twenty-Fourth and the Fiftieth, tiny yukata stands in the Fifteenth, a dango cart that had remained unchanged throughout all the time that either of them had been in the Rukongai, the same ancient man sitting at the same corner from when they were snub-nosed urchins with dirty faces.

As much as he was hesitant to admit it, they were building a life from the ground up. There were no masks for Gin to hide behind anymore, and Rangiku could tell that it made him uncomfortable and sometimes downright terrified him. He did a good job of hiding it, but he rarely smiled his knife-slash smile of edges and lies anymore, and because of that, he felt vulnerable.

But that was the whole point to her, that he was changing. He was living with her and staying. She didn't know why she trusted him so much; it was completely irrational, maybe, but she couldn't help it. Somehow, for the first time in her life, she felt absolutely certain that he was staying. Life was settling into a familiar rhythm, and old wounds and rifts were healing, though the scar tissue would remain, perhaps forever. But everything was finally healing.

"Ran-chan? Are ya still awake?"

"Mmhmm..." she mumbled sleepily, allowing her thoughts and emotions to sink down into the sea of half-wakefulness as she struggled to pull the forefront of her mind to the present.

"I love ya, Ran-chan."

She blinked, startled. Gin wasn't really one for actually vocalizing affection often. The time when they had taken him away had been an exception, since they both thought they would never see each other again.

"I love you, too, Gin."

Yes, everything was healing, and they had hundreds of years to make sure the bones set properly and the scar tissue was treated kindly until it faded, forgiven but not forgotten.

"Ran-chan?"

They had the rest of their lives to figure everything out.

"I'm never leaving again."