tampered | Log; Ongoing

Log; Ongoing

When; Now! :D
Rating; PG-13 for blood spillin' all over the place. Might change later~
Characters; Ichimaru Gin (

ginesis), Matsumoto Rangiku (

10thdiv_haineko)
Summary; Gin really wants to forget.
Log;

"And as I lay me down to sleep..."

Red, red, red everywhere. It was pretty, real pretty against the silver, a color combination that always been Gin's favorite.

Did it hurt? Of course not. Gin was used to far more than this. It did make him slightly light-headed, though, and when combined with the accursed ticking, Gin found himself slowly being lulled to sleep.

The humming blocked out just enough of the ticking that it became bearable.

And when he slept, he could dream. He could imagine the feel of tatami to replace the hard asphalt.

It was kind of nice.

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Rangiku was out of her hideyholy and into the night as soon as she finished typing her last few words. No matter the current strife between them, her desperation gave her the power she needed to allow her to shunpyo to where she felt his familiar reiatsu.
It didn't take long before she ended up at his side. She dropped to her knees beside him, not even noticing the blood that soaked into her yukata as she leaned over him.

Careful fingers searched him, looking for the cuts she knew she'd find, as she kept saying his name. Maybe it was to center herself, maybe it was to see if he was really there enough to talk to her.

She wasn't sure.

He could hear a noise buzzing in his ears, but it was indistinct at best. An irritation.

The fact that the ticking stopped meant that it was a person.

Gin didn't really care who. It didn't matter. In the end, all he wanted was to be left well enough alone, and the funny thing about companionship was that it really only became companionship if a person happened to acknowledge it.

She wasn't there if Gin didn't believe it. Refused to see her. Refused to hear her.

His brow furrowed slightly as cold hands moved to push hers away. No need to heal him; not like anyone in the City really died.

With a frown, she swatted his hands away as her free hand found one source of blood. The frown changed to something else as she fumbled at the edges of her robe. After a moment a tearing sound cut through the quiet evening, then slightly shaky fingers pressed the torn cloth to the wound.

"Gods be damned, Gin... I'm trying to help you! Stop moving!"

The tears were back in her eyes, but she tried to keep them from falling.

Bleeding wasn't so bad, really. With the warmth that had started to spread over his body, Gin might even have called it rather pleasant. But whatever it was tightening around his upper chest? Less so. It stung, practically pulled at the flesh for a few seconds. And even Gin wasn't too fond of that.

And so he growled, deep in his throat, hands flying to the makeshift bandages and tugging, hard.

"Go 'way... 'm tryin' t'sleep here."

The hands pull at her hastily tied bandage, yanking it partially free before she slapped them away again. "I said stop it! Please!" She closed her hands around his wrists, trying to keep him from loosening them even more.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Gin... I need to get someone here..."

Well, if the nuisance wasn't going to leave, Gin supposed that he would.

So he batted whatever it was away again, cringing as he sat up with the intention to leave.

"Shit..."

Fucking headrush. Any other time, he would have enjoyed it, but it was getting in the way of him leaving. To go somewhere where he could sleep peacefully.

Rangiku was pushed away, but panicked worry had given her enough strength to push him back down. Carefully, she leaned over him, making sure he wouldn't get up again unless he were to actually use his real strength against her. "You're not going anywhere and neither am I. Why did you do this to yourself?!"

And suddenly, he was pushed down again, balance completely shot as he felt his head thud against the asphalt. Had he just sustained a concussion? Gin didn't know, didn't really care, but it was starting to get just a little irksome.

Somehow, he felt warm, though. Wasn't sure where that was coming from either.

The words were a bit clearer now, clear enough for Gin to slowly string together, although who they came from hadn't clicked just yet.

"Distraction."

"Distraction? That's bullshit, Gin! You don't distract yourself like this!" Bloody fingers stroked over his cheek, trying to pull his attention to the present, not the distance he seemed to wander in. "Please don't do this to yourself. Please.... I don't want to see you like this..."

Slowly, Gin turned his head towards the touch, resting his lips against it for a few moments, thinking. Thinking usually wasn't this hard. Wasn't this slow.

"Bigger probl'ms, bigger distractions."

Though the slits looked familiar, his eyes were truly closed this time.

"Once knew a pretty girl--had lotsa friends, smiled. Poor, poor judgment."

On both their parts. Him for growing too attached, her for throwing it all away.

"No.... you still know her and she might still smile, if you'll look at her... please." Boths hands now cupped his cheeks, her thumbs sweeping over the skin they could reach. Yes, they were leaving bloody smears, but she didn't care. Not when the skin was cooler than usual under her touch.

"She had lots of friends, but she loved you..."

"Don't like t'share."

His breathing was slowly evening out, but it was getting a little more difficult now.

"Shouldn't have to."

Chuckling lightly, Gin shifted under the weight, lying on his side.

"Loved 'er, I think. Dunno what love is, though, really. Bad fer me, though. Not suitin' a guy like me."

The dripping was slower now.

The tears were falling now, leaving trails of wet heat on her face. Carefully, she helped him move to his side, staying in contact with him all the while. With him on his side, she couldn't keep both of her hands on his face, so one moved to rest on the hard asphalt in front of his face, the other still moving on his face. Hearing him say he loved her made her fingers shake even harder.

"Gin... Love's suited for anyone... I still love you... I'm sorry for everything... "

Her thumb swept over his lip, leaving a ruddy red streak in it's wake.

At the feel of something rather distinct brushing his lip, Gin stirred, eyes opening the slightest crack as he tried to figure out what it was. When his eyes met with blonde curls, he didn't need to look any further to know who it was, body immediately tensing.

Wasn't this a pretty little picture?

It was only slightly annoying that he couldn't seem to remember how he got there.

"Ran, 'm fine. Can I have some time alone?"

It had been a long time since he'd used such a soft tone with her.

His voice reminded her of how he used to be, and the rememberance made her bite her lip. "No, you're not fine... you're still bleeding..." She pulled her hands away from him, knowing she didn't really deserve such intimacy with him.

"Please don't make me leave, Gin... I missed you..."

He stared resolutely away--Gin might have lost his reason for a while, but it was flooding back now. If anything was clear, it was that he needed to avoid her gaze. For the sake of his own sanity.

"I can fix the bleedin' myself, Ran, and ya know that."

Sometimes, he wondered if perhaps he had spoiled her just a little too much as a kid.

"Can ya please think that through for a bit, Ran?," Gin asked, voice quickly regaining its former chill. "I'm askin' ya t'leave so that I can get m'wits about me."

She stared at him in silence for a minute before climbling unsteadily to her feet. Her yukata was stained, red against the periwinkle blue, and her hands were still streaked with drying blood. If he'd bother to look he would see a smear of blood along her chin as well, but she had no idea it was even there. A suspicious glitter trailed down her cheeks, but she didn't raise her hand to wipe it away.

Voice low, she mumbled something before turning away. Soft footsteps, then she paused, but didn't look back at him. "... I think I'm leaving Him. I can't... be torn anymore."

He waited until the footsteps had long faded before murmuring a reply.

"Things ain't that simple, Ran."

Her hair shifted around her soulders as she moved her head. "I can't apologize enough for what I did to you... but I know how it hurts. What... can I do?"

Although the pain was sharp, one wouldn't have been able to tell from Gin's expression as he sat up, facing the other direction.

"Ya want me t'be honest? I dunno, Ran. I ain't always got all th'answers."

Faced with his back, she sighed. "I still love you. I always have. I wish...." Her voice trailed off into a suspicious sounding sniffle. "It doesn't matter what I wish, does it?"

He snorted.

"Matters 'bout as much as me wishin' that I had more sense way back when."

His lips thinned.

"An' stop cryin'. It'll only piss yer guy off. Ain't good fer th'baby either, even though I couldn't care less about the lil shit."

Years of habit made the soft sounds of her sadness go quiet. "... He'll kill me, you know... after the baby... You should've let me starve." She swallowed, hard.

"I wish it was yours. I'm sorry it's not."

"What a way t'show yer gratitude, eh? And t'think that when I first arrived back here, ya kept on insistin' that he loved ya."

He chuckled, raising his head a bit and taking a deep breath.

"A god's perception o' love, even a fake of a god, is diff'rent than a human's, Ran. And yer human, Ran."

He paused, tossing silver strands to the side again.

"I'm glad it ain't mine. I'm not gonna go through all that shit again."

"He does, but it's... like fire." Her eyes never left him as he moved. ".... I'm not gonna lose this one. Not now..."

"'Course ya ain't. Lady Luck's never been kind t'me when it comes t'stuff related t'you."

He was getting a bit tired of the conversation, and it showed through his tone, short and clipped.

"She brought you back here, didn't she?" Rangiku knew the tone well, but she didn't want to go. It was the most she'd spoken to him since she'd lost their baby.

"You said you loved me. I still love you. Put it together, Gin, and see what she might have in mind." Slowly, she turned away and started walking.

His whisper was soft, barely audible even to himself.

"Don't fuckin' talk t'me like that. Not this time. 'Cause for once, I ain't the one that wronged ya."

With a smirk, he got to his feet again, somehow finding strength despite the way his wounds continued to bleed.

Drip, drip, drip, like a twisted instrumental.

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Log; Ongoing

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