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kolJanuary
1: Our breaths in winter
It is only in the predawn hours that Matsumoto Rangiku breathes.
High above Seireitei from her seat upon the 10th’s highest roof, her hand shivers as she releases the pins that bind the tattered white haori across her chest. The fabric sighs, rustling as the winds tug the fabric from her slack shoulders, and for those precious moments, watching the birth of the winter sun, Rangiku is herself.
But the moment passes, the too-small haori reminding her once more of all she has lost, and she brings the familiar cup against her lips. Allows the burn to fester as she holds it there, lips pursed but never tasting, waiting as she has since this winter began.
As the sun claims the sky, Rangiku sets the cup down.
She will have a very long time to wait before her captain returns to death.
March
25: come the morning and the day winding like dreams
When he comes back, and he will come back, because if he doesn't she'll take off herself and drag his sorry ass all the way back, there's a list of fifty things she has every intention of screaming at him.
The one she never puts to paper is all that matters, but she'll never admit it to herself.
June
15: Thermodynamic miracles
He doesn’t remember their third meeting.
She had ignored the crimson halo throughout the meeting, but when the ceiling fell it was the first thing her eyes latched on to. He had fallen to his knees, hands on his forehead, a glazed look clouding his too green eyes. It must have been the plaster falling, she had enough time to think, before the sirens began and the whole of the Palace began racing for the LifeShips.
Save for one dazed Uranus Senshi, pitching forward. She managed to catch him before his forehead struck the ground, and had him on her back within seconds. His was an uncomfortable weight, his body too long and stiff, but she had carried for heavier loads on missions and even then she knew she’d never be able to leave him behind.
Their flight was not one of grace— he slipped from her back twice, and she was quite positive he wrenched his foot broken on the second fall— but they reached the last LifeShip with enough time to shove his crumpled body in a corner, her own bracing against his in case they crashed.
She remained there through the jump and the revelations on the other side, but once she judged the danger over, she coldly thrust his unconscious body into the first functioning pod she found and left him there without a look back.
It was only coincidence she jogged passed his pod on a daily basis. It was only healthy interest in the health of a colleague that drew her eyes to his peaceful face with each pass. But she has no excuse for why she failed to sleep each night until she dragged his sorry ass to a pod outside her door.
17: This is the death of beauty
Akemi tumbles down a lifetime of lies and identities. She’s smart enough to stay in the shadows. Who would believe the flamboyant Senshi of Love had lived out a hundred lifetimes in the rice paddies?
But as smart as her ploy is, she finds herself stumbling into the spotlight, half by accident, half by an addict’s manipulations, and each time he finds her, again and again, the burn of his beard marking her skin until the next encounter. Because Akemi can’t give up the spotlight, and she can’t give up him, even if she knows the next time, he might not let her go.
She has cycled through a thousand aliases, but inside, she’s always his.
1: Our breaths in winter
It is only in the predawn hours that Matsumoto Rangiku breathes.
High above Seireitei from her seat upon the 10th’s highest roof, her hand shivers as she releases the pins that bind the tattered white haori across her chest. The fabric sighs, rustling as the winds tug the fabric from her slack shoulders, and for those precious moments, watching the birth of the winter sun, Rangiku is herself.
But the moment passes, the too-small haori reminding her once more of all she has lost, and she brings the familiar cup against her lips. Allows the burn to fester as she holds it there, lips pursed but never tasting, waiting as she has since this winter began.
As the sun claims the sky, Rangiku sets the cup down.
She will have a very long time to wait before her captain returns to death.
March
25: come the morning and the day winding like dreams
When he comes back, and he will come back, because if he doesn't she'll take off herself and drag his sorry ass all the way back, there's a list of fifty things she has every intention of screaming at him.
The one she never puts to paper is all that matters, but she'll never admit it to herself.
June
15: Thermodynamic miracles
He doesn’t remember their third meeting.
She had ignored the crimson halo throughout the meeting, but when the ceiling fell it was the first thing her eyes latched on to. He had fallen to his knees, hands on his forehead, a glazed look clouding his too green eyes. It must have been the plaster falling, she had enough time to think, before the sirens began and the whole of the Palace began racing for the LifeShips.
Save for one dazed Uranus Senshi, pitching forward. She managed to catch him before his forehead struck the ground, and had him on her back within seconds. His was an uncomfortable weight, his body too long and stiff, but she had carried for heavier loads on missions and even then she knew she’d never be able to leave him behind.
Their flight was not one of grace— he slipped from her back twice, and she was quite positive he wrenched his foot broken on the second fall— but they reached the last LifeShip with enough time to shove his crumpled body in a corner, her own bracing against his in case they crashed.
She remained there through the jump and the revelations on the other side, but once she judged the danger over, she coldly thrust his unconscious body into the first functioning pod she found and left him there without a look back.
It was only coincidence she jogged passed his pod on a daily basis. It was only healthy interest in the health of a colleague that drew her eyes to his peaceful face with each pass. But she has no excuse for why she failed to sleep each night until she dragged his sorry ass to a pod outside her door.
17: This is the death of beauty
Akemi tumbles down a lifetime of lies and identities. She’s smart enough to stay in the shadows. Who would believe the flamboyant Senshi of Love had lived out a hundred lifetimes in the rice paddies?
But as smart as her ploy is, she finds herself stumbling into the spotlight, half by accident, half by an addict’s manipulations, and each time he finds her, again and again, the burn of his beard marking her skin until the next encounter. Because Akemi can’t give up the spotlight, and she can’t give up him, even if she knows the next time, he might not let her go.
She has cycled through a thousand aliases, but inside, she’s always his.
