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lieutenant-rangiku
((TRIGGER WARNING: I used a number generator and got:
My muse is lying on their bed, a knife in their lap and bleeding. .
It’s about to get dramatic. ))
~
Rangiku was shaking.. her skin felt almost ice cold, completely numb. Her thoughts were mush, her reasoning had leaped out of the window. This was it, the monster she pushed back.. the monster inside her mind. Tonight, it had decided to show itself. This monster wasn’t going to give up either, it was going to give Ran one hell of a fight.
As tears began to fall down Matsumoto’s face, the memories began to all come back.. one after the other.
You could of done something Rangiku..
Why are you so fucking worthless Rangiku..
He’s gone Rangiku..
You’re weak Rangiku..
Admit it, you are nothing.
The lieutenant began to endure a large sob, trying to push all of her thoughts away, all the words inside her head. They were tormenting her, the monster was tormenting her. Don’t let it get to you Ran.. The strawberry blonde thought, trying to wipe her tears.. trying to reason with herself.
You know your wrong Rangiku..
Remember him Rangiku?
Remember his pure eyes Rangiku?
Remember the blood.. Rangiku?
Just give up already…
Short splattered images of the face that had haunted her everyday appeared inside her mind. Over and over again, the deep crimson upon the sword of the enemy infront of her, the death of a love she always wanted. Her emotions started to become to much to handle. A short squeak came out of her mouth as the tears from her eyelids fell upon her tile floor. A short ‘pit pat’ noise echoed from her house. The lieutenant’s arms began to shake, her sanity began to break.
A large scream and a hard punch to the wall, was what Rangiku gave, but that wouldn’t be half of the damage done tonight.
His face was stuck inside her head, stuck inside her eyes, stuck inside her everything.
”GOD DAMMIT!” Matsumoto began to scream, falling to the floor of her kitchen.
Go to him Rangiku..
He’s waiting for you Rangiku..
Nobody will miss you..
As the blondes skin became numb, and her sanity became dangerously low. She wiped her nose and slowly crawled towards a drawer in her kitchen, letting a tear go as she opened it, and grabbed her destroyer of choice.
The woman’s hands slid across the stainless steel of the carving tool in front of her, all Rangiku could do was twitch and shake as she slumped over, slowly into her bed.
It’s time Rangiku..
You’ve been waiting..
You have your tools..
Go to him.
As more large sobs came from Rangiku’s mouth as her mascara ran, she held the tool right above her wrist.
”I’m sorry.” She whispered, as if all the ones who cared about her could listen.
“I’m coming for you..” She croaked.
Her tight grip increased on the knife, as it began to slide across the lieutenant skin in straight lines. Drawing out the crimson-dark blood to the surface of her skin.
One cut..
two cut..
three cut..
four..
five cut.
six cut.
seven cut.
Vain damage blow.
As one more slice dug deeply into Rangiku’s skin, the blood began to bleed out onto the bed sheets. Ran’s breaths began to fade, and her blue iris’s began to shut.
It’s almost over.. the pain.
It’s almost done.
The blonde shut her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Then everything went black.
Shinji had been increasingly concerned about Rangiku recently. He had slowly formed a platonic friendship with the female Lieutenant of the Tenth Division over the course of the last few months, and as he had enjoyed her entertaining company, they had also eventually became occasional drinking buddies, sharing an equal sense of humor as well as a casual, laidback approach to life.
However, in the last few weeks, the blond had noticed a progressively disturbing change in his friend. Rangiku was slowly becoming more and more withdrawn and quiet, she was moody and sullen, she was easily distracted and seemed to be in a daze at times, and she seemed to pay little attention to the things that went on around her. It was as she was retreating into herself, and Shinji had not understood the reason for her increasing reticence and distant, disconnected behavior until he was looking at the calendar a week ago and noticed that the anniversary of the Winter War would soon be approaching.
He had never broached this particular topic with Rangiku before, but he had been told by Momo in passing that the strawberry blonde had lost a very important figure in her life during that fateful battle at the fake Karakura site. Shinji had not enquired further out of respect for his friend, but he had sometimes wondered about the identity of the mysterious Shinigami whose loss had caused Rangiku such grief and pain, so much so that even now, years after the unknown individual’s death, she was still very much in deep mourning for him, emotionally crippled by his passing.
Tonight was the eve of the anniversary, and Shinji had thought that he would pay Rangiku a visit. He had even brought along a fine, expensive cask of sake along as a gift, thinking to help ease the woman’s mental turmoil and distract her with the rich rice wine and their usual, random conversation.
The Tenth Division barracks where Rangiku resided was quiet that evening, but Shinji knew which door was hers and was lightly knocking at the wooden panel minutes later. He could sense her spiritual pressure in her living area so she was definitely at home, but strangely enough, it remained unmoving even when he was certain that she should have detected him outside her quarters by now.
Then, much to his alarm and shock, her reiatsu faded.
It had not vanished in the way when one was trying to surreptitiously conceal their presence – no, this was much worse. Shinji was all too familiar with this sort of phenomenon and he knew exactly what it meant.
Someone was dying.
Rangiku!!
The sake was promptly dropped and abandoned on the ground and this time, the Gobantai Taichou did not wait for anyone to open the door for him. He kicked the flimsy panel in with a loud, noisy clatter and rushed into his friend’s home to see what had happened to her. The sight that greeted him in that single-room apartment setting both stunned and horrified him.
The strawberry blonde was lying on her bed, deathly white, her eyelids slipped shut, and on one upturned forearm were many deep cuts where she was currently bleeding out from, each and every slice meticulously carved into her pale skin. The heavy smell of iron permeated the air, and Shinji quickly flowed into action.
It was obvious what Rangiku had just attempted, and even though the blond was upset by what she had done to herself, the pressing instinct to preserve her life immediately took precedence over everything else. Very quickly, he was tearing her bed sheet into strips; one to use as a tourniquet to temporarily slow down the flow of blood to her injured arm, the rest to stopper the excessive bleeding caused by her self-inflicted wounds. He was clumsy with healing spells but still he used what he knew in an attempt to fix her to the best of his abilities, and after a while, it seemed to work. Her condition was slowly, painstakingly, stabilizing, the blood flow was becoming lesser, and then, when her neighbor and fellow Tenth Division seated officer came over to investigate the ruckus, Shinji had bellowed at the woman to get a group of medics from the Yonbantai, right now.
He remained by the strawberry blonde’s side, his hands slick with her blood as he continued to maintain a firm and unyielding pressure on her injuries. His dark golden gaze was grim and hard as he stared down at the waxy, slack complexion of his unconscious friend.
Dammit, Rangiku, what the hell were ya thinkin’?!
