we love at different distances
a/n. this took place shortly after gin became 5th squad’s vice captain. i don’t think rangiku has become 10th squad’s vice captain at that time?? if she has i’m sorry i just want to write them together lol
She caught him in the corner of her eyes, in the middle of shopping district.
Granted, he’s quite eye-catching, with his tall figure and silver hair, but Rangiku always, always could spot him in a sea of people.
(Something that she’s proud and not proud of, simultaneously.)
And he looked so lonely, without anyone by his side, so naturally, she dropped the stuff she’s holding to her fellow squad members, excused herself quickly with a promise to treat them for a drink some time, then chased after him.
“Gin!”
The shopping district was crowded, and her voice was not that loud, but still he stopped and turned around at her call. His mouth, initially a thin line on his face, formed into a smile when he laid his eyes on her.
(Not that she could see his blue eyes, but she knew by instinct when he’s looking at her. Really, she wished she could see them more often.)
“Rangiku,” he greeted her once she reached him. It’s not obvious, but she picked up the lilt in his voice, an indication of pleasure. “Are you ditching work again?”
“How rude of you,” Rangiku retorted with her hands on her hips, though his accusation was actually on point. “Isshin-taichou asked us to buy some stuffs.”
Gin looked around her. “… Mm-hm. And yet you’re alone right now.”
“We’re finished already!” she exclaimed, feeling her face burn a little, while her childhood friend laughed quietly. Really! Why was it always like this with Gin? Usually she’s the teaser, but with Gin it’s the other way around. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“What, I’m not allowed to shop?” he asked, taking place on her right side.
Rolling her eyes at his teasing, which earned her another laugh from him, Rangiku said, “Just unusual is all.” She started to take a step.
“We just don’t cross paths,” Gin replied, matching her strides. “We’re both busy, aren’t we?”
She eyed his subordinate badge on his upper right arm. “I suppose so,” she said, and Gin chuckled, likely because she didn’t object to his verbal jab on her being ‘busy’. Rangiku chose to ignore it.
“What are you looking for?” Rangiku asked, in attempt to change the topic.
“Persimmon.”
Now it’s her turn to laugh, to which he raised one eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just,” she wheezed her last laugh, “I thought you’ve changed, but turns out not really.”Rangiku smiled in relief.
Yeah, Gin was still Gin. Even though he’s a vice-captain now, he’s still the same person she had grown up with.
“True, I don’t think I’ve changed,” he said. “You, on the other hand, have changed quite a lot.”
Rangiku looked at him incredulously. She knew she changed a lot—from a girl to a woman, a curvaceous one at that, so it was not a very surprising comment. The fact that it came from Gin was what surprised her, because he never showed any interest for her in that way. The way he treated her had never changed since their first meeting.
Smirking teasingly, she asked, “Oh? You talking about my figure?”
His expression morphed into confusion. “No? I mean your personality. You used to be more downcast, now you’re not. But your figure? It hasn’t changed much.”
“Huh??” She was sent agape by his words. Was he actually blind without her knowing? Her chest had grown exponentially and her curves were more prominent compared to when they had lived together, and he said her figure hadn’t changed much?
That was… kind of insulting, to be honest.
Couldn’t help it, Rangiku cupped her bosom and pushed her breasts up, well aware of the bystanders’ shocked gaze on her—that mattered little at the moment—and faced him, “You see these two and you say I don’t change much??”
Gin laughed at her antics, taking her right hand down extremely carefully, his hand barely brushing the underside of her chest. “You eat everything and you have a big appetite. It’s not a surprise, really.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“Now, whenever I said that?” he asked, tone was laced with amusement.
Pursing her mouth, she crossed her arms across her chest. “You don’t say it, but I know you’re thinking it.”
“You always think badly about me, Rangiku.”
“Gin, my thoughts for you are the nicest thoughts people have on you.”
“I don’t care about other people, though.”
That caught her off-guard. She stopped at her tracks immediately and stared at him. So did he, but a smile was plastered on his face, and it was not a mocking smile or a teasing smile, but a sincere one, and it made her heart skip a beat.
“Rangiku, I only care about you,” he repeated, still with a smile.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to return his smile, because her chest hurt in the most unpleasant way, even though she had experienced the pain multiple times, back when they had lived in same abode, when he had left her alone repeatedly without any explanation whatsoever.
Rangiku opened her mouth to speak.
But you left me.
So many times.
If you truly only cared about me, you wouldn’t do that.
…
“Wow, Gin has turned into a giant flirt,” was what she opted to say, controlling her expression so masterfully so it showed a deadpan look she probably deserved an award for it. Not that she could see her own face, but she could see his face in turn, which was telling enough. “I took back what I said. You’ve changed, Gin.”
The silver-haired man breathed out, which sounded like a snort-slash-laugh. “I also took back what I said. You haven’t changed that much.”
“You’re so inconsistent,” Rangiku sighed. Gin didn’t say anything in turn, just smiling quietly, putting an end to their conversation.
She pretended the pain in her chest had petered out into nothing.
.
.
.
“You practically emptied out the stock, Gin,”Rangiku said, eyeing the huge bag filled with persimmons in his arm. It must be heavy, but Gin seemed to carry them like they’re feathers. Maybe he’s not as scrawny as he looked. “I know you’re going to dry them out, but still.”
“Isn’t that good? Now they don’t have to worry about their goods turning bad.” He adjusted the weight to hold the bag more comfortably. “I’m going to share them with you once they’re all properly dried out, so relax.”
“That’s not… Ah, whatever.” She shrugged her shoulders and started to scan the stalls around them, looking for interesting things to buy. Most of them sold generic stuff—vegetable, fruits, everyday stuff—
“Oh—“
An accessories stall caught Rangiku’s eyes, and naturally she swerved toward the stall, eyeing the array of jewellery displayed there. Skipping the gold section—silver always suited her skin tone better, much to her delight—she looked through rings (felt too committed), bracelets (might get in a way in a battle), earrings (she didn’t like the feeling of having something hanging on her ears), and finally necklaces.
In particular, a silver chain passing through a silver ring, with another chain hanging on the ring, creating a Y-shaped. That’s nice. It would elongate her neck, but above all she’s especially fond of the silver ring.
One silver circle, she smiled to herself. It alluded to his name.
“This one?” Gin’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She didn’t expect him to look through the merchandise with her, and she also didn’t expect him to point the very same necklace she was eyeing. She might have been looking at it too long.
“Yeah.” she said, tracing the silver ring with her fingertips.
“… They have the gold one, too. You don’t want the gold one?”
“No, gold doesn’t really look good on me.”
“Really? I think it suits you just fine.”
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Gin. You don’t understand fashion.”
He chuckled, raising his free hand in surrender.
The shopkeeper was nice enough to let her try the necklace first, so she undid the clasp and wore it, making sure it sat below her pink scarf. The ring rested just below her collarbone, and the end of the hanging chain tickled her cleavage. “How is it, Gin? Does it look good on me?”
Curiously, Gin didn’t say a word, he just stood there staring at her necklace. Which was weird. If he was looking at her chest, she could understand—despite his earlier comment about her unchanging figure. But she just knew his gaze was fixed on the ring.
His mouth formed a smile—a wistful one. “… Yes,” he whispered, touching the ring lightly with his fingers. “It does look good on you.”
Why did he look so regretful, so helpless?
“Gin—“
“I’d love to buy it for you, but too bad I ran out of money.” He cocked his head toward the shopping bag in his arm. The regret in his face went away in that instant. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have bought the whole stock.”
Her chest stung again at him changing the topic, at him once again not letting her in.
“… I’m perfectly capable of buying it myself, thank you very much.”
She turned away from him to pay the shopkeeper, and to avoid looking at him.
The silver ring below her collarbone was a chilling cold against her skin, but it didn’t alleviate the pain at all.
.
.
.
“What are you doing after this?” he asked when they’re about to go their separate ways—their barracks wete not exactly close to each other.
“Drinking,” she answered curtly, hands crossed over her chest and head turned away, still upset at him. She actually had planned to simply rest, but after this whole annoyance, she had to go drinking. Not the best coping mechanism, she knew, but being by herself would just made her miserable.
“Rangiku, don’t party too hard.”
Oh, she could feel veins popping on her forehead. Who did he think he was, patronising her like this? “Shut up, Gin. I do what I want. Just go.”
But the man didn’t move from his spot, still standing before her, looking at her. She knew that even without looking. Stubbornly, she kept her head turned away, refused to catch even a glimpse of him.
A weight fell on her head—a hand, his hand. She hated how comforting it felt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking her head once, and immediately retreated his hand. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
When she finally turned her head to see him, all she could see was his back profile, retreating and distant.
“Saying sorry and then leave…” she murmured under her breath, “you really haven’t changed.” Closing her eyes, Rangiku sighed. “Stupid Gin.”
———
“I only care about you.”
Replaying that scene repeatedly in his head, Gin sighed at his own inability to retain self-control. He’s not supposed to say that. He’s not supposed to show any emotion to anyone, including to Rangiku.
Her expression when he said that was burned to his mind. The split second expression she soon masked with a deadpanned retort—the expression of hurt, of pain, from being left in the dark—
It pierced his heart, tortured every fibre of his being.
Nevertheless, he had to, for letting her know would hurt her so much more.
That part of her soul was gone, stolen from her years ago. She wouldn’t feel the hurt from the loss if she didn’t know she owned it in the first place.
That he had done things that she would consider monstrous to reach his current standing. Even though it was for her, knowing her, she would tell him to stop and never do it. And he knew he would be weak to her pleas and her tears. Then it would be all for nothing.
He exhaled a breath. It’s okay. It was indeed a slip of tongue, but no one heard him. Rangiku herself treated it as a lie. It wouldn’t jeopardise his relationship with Aizen.
Gin thought of the silver ring that hung around her neck. How he wanted to be the one who gifted it to her, with a proposal, even, and heard her say yes. By Gods above she would definitely say yes. It’s not his confidence speaking, it’s Rangiku speaking wordlessly to him, with her gestures, her expression, everything—she had told him she loved him over and over again.
But reciprocating her feelings would tie her to him. And Rangiku… she would clung to that bond tightly and would not be able to—or more accurately, refuse to move on when he’s gone. He’s not stupid, he knew the chance of him returning alive to her with her soul was near zero. Even if he returned alive, he would definitely be branded a traitor and sentenced to imprisonment, leaving her behind.
So he couldn’t reciprocate. He wouldn’t.
That was his determination, but he couldn’t deny the tightness in his chest when he saw her wearing that necklace.
The colour of his hair, the scenery of wintry forest they had witnessed for years when they were little, his name—resting so near to her heart.
Gin couldn’t help but laugh helplessly. The elation he felt from being loved by her was dizzying, and it’s enough to give him the conviction.
He would see this play through, retrieve what Rangiku had lost, and return it to her.
For her.
For the one he loved the most.
