-1Baby steps

Cold wind came rushing from the dark mouth of the cavern. Rangiku shivered in her uniform, hugging herself even tighter in a futile attempt to keep out her captain's cold reiatsu. She knew she shouldn't be standing there, simply waiting for him to finish. Just like him, she should be pushing herself and her zanpaktou to their limits, to become stronger after the war against Aizen took such a high toll on her.

But she couldn't.

It was too early for her to move forward. She felt like she was a child again, aimlessly wondering around in Rukongai, looking for a place she could call home. He had given her one, so long ago. He was cold, manipulative and untrustworthy, but he was her only family. Wherever he went, was her home.
She pictured him to be in front of her again, leaving footprints in the snow for her to follow. Caressing his sharp features in her mind, she sagged against the wall, feeling unable to continue.

Gin.

After all they'd been through together, he never told her anything. That's how he could deceive her into thinking he was on her side, hurting her like a blade to the heart when he betrayed her to go with Aizen. Months and months of waiting and crying over him, only to find that he had outwitted her once more. She'd seen it on his bloodied face that day, the defiant glint in his eyes and the childish triumph over deceiving her once more; he hadn't betrayed her. Everything he had ever done was for her, including his death.
The bloody image of their last meeting blurred into tears, and only an image of a fading footprint in the snow remained, till that, too, was filled up with fresh snow, leaving her alone and cold, with no indication where to go.

You disappeared again, without leaving me a single keepsake...I've always hated that about you. she thought, hiding her face behind the curtain of copper-blonde locks.

But

If you had left something behind,

Then I would never have been able to move from that spot.

You must have known that about me.

Thank you, Gin.

I've always...

Liked that about you.

"...Matsumoto," Hitsugaya emerged from the darkness of the cave, out of breath and as gloomy as he'd been ever since they got back. She quickly straightened up, swiftly wiping the tears away before he saw them. At least, that was what she liked to believe.
"You okay?" Her captain asked without meeting her eyes.
"Yeah," she answered quietly. "You?"
"Fine."
They both knew from each other it was a lie. But what we're they supposed to do about it? Maybe if they lied enough, they started to believe their own lies and everything would be the way it was. Besides, of course, the painful strain Hinamori's latest scar put on her relationship with Toushiro. And the glaring gap the third division's captain had left upon his death.

Quietly, they walked back to the tenth division barracks. Toushiro mumbled something about whatever it was that he needed to do; Rangiku understood. He was going to visit the fourth division, to check on Hinamori once more. He spent every minute that he wasn't training with her, watching her sleep and making a pathetic attempt at small talk the times she waked, groggy from the medication. He wanted to wait until she was better until he made his big apology and start trying to mend things. Now he was just there for her, whenever she needed him.
In happier times, Rangiku would have looked at this new development from the bright side; Paper work was the very least on her captain's mind, and so for once, she would be able to slack off without him even noticing. But she found herself to be too restless to enjoy the seas of time she now had for herself. Instead, she locked herself in the office, working through the piles of reports just to have something on hands.

That's what really showed the state she was in.

"Work with me, damn you!" Hisagi yelled angrily as he twirled the scythes in his hands, throwing one at the target dummy on the utterly deserted training grounds. It wasn't that all of the ninth division was slacking off; it was just that no one dared to venture near their lieutenant, not the way he'd been ever since...well, ever since he had slit the throat of their former captain.
The blade hit its goal, pinning itself deep in the dummy's shoulder. Hisagi jumped high, lassoing the black chains around the puppet's waist to lock his imaginary foe in place. He somersaulted over its head, landing close behind it and slashed it in half. All in under two seconds.
Any weapon master would have applauded the flawless handling of such a difficult weapon, but Hisagi glowered at the shredded heap at his feet and angrily focussed his attention on the dark blades in his hand.

Still not good enough.

He still lacked the skill to properly protect his division. Aizen had swatted him aside like the annoying pest he was. He couldn't even match up to his captain- former captain. It was all too known to him that the only reason he had been able to defeat Tousen was that he was blinded by his newly gained eye-sight. Focussing all his attention on Komamura with a carelessness he would never have displayed when still a shinigami, Tousen hadn't seen Hisagi coming down, until Kazeshini was crashed into his skull.

Hisagi's stomach lurched as he remembered that moment, remembered the feel of Kazeshini, as it had hungrily drunken the blood of the renegade captain.

Don't mock me! He inwardly shouted at the smirking demon in his mind.

Ever since that day he couldn't stand the feel of his blade in his hands, even less so than usually, and Kazeshini had reacted with the expected contempt. Somewhere deep inside, Hisagi couldn't blame his sword; it had done him great service, and yet he loathed every moment he was forced to touch its hilt. Every time he did, those short seconds his sword had spent is his former captain's - friend's - body were replayed in his mind, slowly driving him mad.

He took a shaky breath, wiping the damp hair from his face. This was no good either; his muscles screamed in agony over relentless training and he was trembling so much, that every time he tried a kidou it missed his target by several feet. But he couldn't do anything else. His division needed him, he knew that. They still didn't have a new captain, and for months, he had functioned as its head. He saw it every time he met one of the seated officers, the questions popping up in their heads and the way they looked for his guidance...but he couldn't bring himself to moving forward yet. He pretended he was, working his ass of in a facade, a fake attempt at growth. He knew very well that the only way for his swordsmanship to improve from this point was to become more intimate with Kazeshini, but he was utterly unable to do so now. What he really needed to do was to step up for his division and fill the hole Tousen had left them once more.
However, it had been one thing to do so when Tousen had simply betrayed them; and hard enough even then. But now that the former captain had died by his hands, it was a whole different story. Technically, by killing Tousen, he had met the requirements of becoming the ninth division's captain; nobody would question that feat even without the number of shinigami witnesses that should have been there, officially. His fellow division members showed it too; in every way they moved around him, there was a new, horrible respect, almost bordering on fear when they met his crazed grey eyes. Hisagi just didn't want that responsibility, that honour. Even for all that Tousen had done after his departure from Soul Society, Hisagi still didn't feel worthy to take his place. Hell, he didn't feel worthy of his lieutenant badge either.

He didn't feel like he deserved anything.

Angrily, he shook the rain from his eyes, growling as he charged at the next unfortunate dummy. Flat-out refusing to take a closer look at the tangled mess that was his inside. Instead, he continued to slash at the dummies, the cloudless blue sky stretched out high over his head.

"Matsumoto," Toushiro called out softly through the quiet office.
With a jerk, Rangiku woke up.
"Captain!" She exclaimed, immediately starting to whisk through the reports in front of her. "I didn't hear you coming! I-"
"Matsumoto," Toushiro said once more, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes with a tinge of concern. How long had those been there? He couldn't remember, but they judging by their colour, they had to have been there when they last met. He frowned upon his own inattentiveness.
"When was the last time you slept?" He asked sternly.
"I-I just slept, captain. Fell asleep on the paperwork again! I'm really sorry, I'll finish this right away!"
"Matsumoto!" He said for a third time, finally getting her to look him in the eye. "Go home. Get something to eat and go to bed. Take tomorrow off."
She looked at him in bewilderment. "B-but, I still have to finish these papers, and then there is the 12th division asking about the reports on those arrancar we fought and, and-" She looked up at her captain pleadingly, asking him desperately not to give her the time to face the grief eating away at her.
"Please," He simply added, bending over the desk to place a hand on her shoulder in a gesture so much more affectionate and intimate than he would usually do.
Rangiku bowed her head, swallowing hard. Then she nodded in agreement, inwardly laughing humourlessly at the strange role-reversal. Since when did her captain have to beg her into taking a day off?

It wasn't a long walk towards their spot, but it took her long, and she tired quickly, almost deciding against visiting that place. She hadn't been there since he had left, and now that he was dead, she was afraid it would only hurt more if she went and sat on the rooftop overlooking Soul Society without him. It wasn't the right time to go there anyway. The view was amazing at anytime of the day, but it was truly breathtaking during sunset, her favourite time of the day. Which had nothing to do with office hours ending around that time.

But now it was the dead of night, with stars blinking in the indigo sky above her head. The last time she'd been there at this late hour was with Histsugaya's birthday. No, it was certainly not a good idea to go there under these circumstances at this time of night.
Yet she found herself staring up to that particular roof anyway. And there was someone sitting on his spot. Someone tall, lean, and definitely masculine. Someone very much like -

"Gin!"

Hisagi turned around at the sound of her voice, finding a flustered Rangiku standing behind him.

"Sorry," He just said.
Sorry I'm not him, he finished in his mind.

Rangiku clenched and unclenched her fist, trying very hard not to cry. What foolishness, she told herself, to think he might have tricked me again. She couldn't help it. He'd tricked her so often, he tricked everybody. Maybe he had one last gag going on, and he would show up at an unexpected time, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and whispering in her ear. 'Gothca!'
But she knew that would not happen this time. She had been there herself, seen the dying flicker in his eyes, felt his reiatsu fade to nothing, witnessed that grin slip of his face...
She shook her head, fighting back tears. Great. It wasn't just enough to be a nervous wreck in her own time, now she went and bothered Hisagi with it. He had enough problems of his own.

"Hi." She replied hoarsely.
"Can I sit down?"

He just nodded, face turned away from her.

"I brought some food," Rangiku tried to break the silence with a sad smile. "You want some?"
Hisagi shook his head. "Not hungry."
"Oh, come on! I bought so much, there's no way I can finish it all...Shuhe-i~" She pouted, a shadow of her old self taking over. Hisagi played along. "Fine, but just because it's Rangiku-san asking." He reached out for the food package she had put between them, but recoiled when he noted how small it was. Too much for her? That's not even a child's portion right there. It won't be enough to sustain her...He eyed her from under the shadow of his black hair, noting the infinite sadness in her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. He didn't fail to notice she had lost weight. Yeah, it's no where near enough for a healthy shinigami, let alone two. But I suppose...it's just enough for a pair of broken Reapers.

"So...how have you been doing? I heard you went training everyday. That's good."

Hisagi stared out over the moonlit Seireitei. "Yeah, I guess...And you? Have you been able to train a bit?"

She flinched a little at that question. "N-No. I've had to step it up in the office to get all the work done, with Hitsugaya-taichou being the way he is...and, ah, Haineko is still recuperating." She felt the cat-spirit stir in objection on the edges of her consciousness, realizing it'd take a lot of apologizing and grovelling before Haineko forgave her that lie.
"Ah, yeah, I guess that makes sense." He replied, and they let the silence stretch on after that, a heavy blanket smothering them, urging them to just speak up...But it hurt too much.

Hisagi observed her from the corner of his eye, as she huddled on the cold rooftop, a tiny black dot in the cold night, just a shadow of what she used to be. Always cheerful, teasing, laughing- God, what he'd give to see that silly smile again. And he couldn't do anything to help her. Soon now, she'd tell him 'Good night', a go to her lonely home to cry herself to sleep. He wanted to reach out to her, share the pain, comfort her - But he knew she'd push him away. She didn't want help, just as much as he didn't want it. Help was for the weak, and the only thing the both of them had left, was the proud delusion that they could get through this on their own, as strong, responsible lieutenants.

It could only be a little longer before they'd break.

Rangiku ruffled through the paper bags that had contained their pathetic evening meal; it wasn't so much that she was still hungry, but rather that she longed for something to do, instead of just sitting there and let the silence grow.
Her hand found one package that was still untouched, and without much interest, she unravelled it, not caring what she'd find. She couldn't even remember what she'd ordered anyway.

Orange-brown, wrinkled round slices spilled out of the package. Rangiku's blue eyes widened.

Dried persimmon.

Gin.

Memories held back broke through her mental barriers, flooding her brain with images of all the times she'd sat on this spot, sharing her favourite food with Gin, who enjoyed it even more than she did. Gin offering her some in Rukongai. Gin disappearing in the night. Gin in the snow. Gin in a too large shinigami uniform, blood splattered across his face. Gin laughing fox-like in his academy uniform. Gin in her bedroom. Gin brushed against her, firm in her grasp, bidding her farewell. Gin on the rubble, bathing in his own blood. Gin smiling at her while his life slipped from her grasp...

"R-Rangiku-san?" Hisagi shifted, concerned. Rangiku had frozen solid, bent over the little food-package with dried fruit, her hair hiding her face like a copper curtain.

Then a quiver went through her curved form. And she started to cry.

For a moment, Hisagi was too stunned to react. Rangiku's shoulders shook, her breath came in ragged gasps and sparkling droplets fell from under that beautiful curtain, splattering on the innocent dried persimmon.

"H-Hey!" Coming back to his senses, Hisagi grabbed her shoulder, trying to get her to look at him. She shoved him away, her face now upturned to the moon, sobbing in agony with silver tears streaming over her cheeks.
"Rangiku!" He grabbed both of her shoulders firmly, turning her so she was facing him squarely. She struggled again.
"Stop it! He won't came back, but it's okay to cry over it! It's okay to let people help you!" Like I'm one to demand that of her, he thought bitterly.
She stared at him, eyes unfocussed, but the sobbing calmed a bit, though tears still spilled from her eyes.
And Hisagi did the only thing that came natural. He pulled her close, hugging her tightly against him. He didn't let go, he'd never let go of the trembling miserable woman in his arms.
"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay," He chanted softly. "I know how it feels. You wake up everyday whishing it was all a bad dream, that all is as it used to be. That it never happened. But with every movement, every sight, you're reminded of his absence, and realise he'll never come back. And everyone's looking at you, waiting for you to move forward when you just can't. You're locked in place by old hurt and can't face the new day, can't get out of bed, can't proceed into the sunlight, lost in the dark..." His voice died away, as he realized he'd been talking more about himself then about her. Yet it seemed to work; she was still clutching the front of his kimono, but the wet patches of cloth sticking to his skin didn't increase in size anymore, and the sobbing had stopped.

Rangiku's eyes widened as she was roughly snapped out of her despair, her face clashing into warm skin under black garments. Strong arms wrapped firmly around her frame, pinning her against Hisagi's chest. For a split second, she was too surprised to react, then she buried her face in his chest and continued to cry her eyes out. He talked to her, and his deep, soft voice had a soothing effect on the raging memories tormenting her. Still pressed against him, her breathing slowed again and she inhaled his scent. He smelled of dirt and dried sweat, and that reassuring, musky smell that always surrounded him. It was a true and honest smell, just like his arms around her. How different from Gin's embrace, she mused. No teasing, no sly smiles or wicked games. Just an honest, desperate hug, with him drawing as much strength from her presence as she from his. It was so real, and as she slid her arms under his to return the embrace, Rangiku discovered she could truly hold him. He didn't slip from her grasp, but stayed put, connected with her and not hiding his pain.

Hisagi smiled in her sweet-smelling hair. She had wrapped her arms around him in a response to his clumsy attempt to calm her down, and it felt so good having her there. With a bitter smirk, he remembered all his little fantasies of how he and his crush would get together. This was certainly not on that list, no matter how romantic the setting might seem to an outsider, with the full moon high in the sky and them hugging intimately. He was painfully aware of the fact that he'd never have her in the same way Gin did, that he could never fill that gap. But he could be a friend to her, and no matter how much it hurt being so close and yet so far, if that was what she needed, then he'd be there for her.

Rangiku broke from his grasp, meeting his eyes as she looked up to him. Hisagi couldn't help but frown when he recognized the same pain, whishing he could take it from her. But it was also so comforting to have someone close who was, just like him, too hurt to move forward, too afraid of the pain, like a physical wound that aches upon moving.

"Rangiku," He spoke softly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Let's move forward together. Just a little bit at a time. Will you...would you let me help you?" He asked, afraid of the answer. What if she'd push him away once more? He didn't feel able to face those dark days coming alone.

Anxious seconds passed, then she nodded ever-so-slightly.

"...yeah...but then, will you let me help you, too?" she asked gently.

Hisagi smiled softly, without any bitterness for the first time since the War. "Always. We'll just take baby steps, together."

"Baby steps." She agreed, huddling closer against him, as they turned to face the new dawn spreading from the East.