paixaorpg | Peek-a-Boo [Closed/Complete]

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Peek-a-Boo [Closed/Complete]

Character(s): Ichimaru Gin. Rangiku Matsumoto
Content: Ichimaru wants to play hide-n-seek with Ran. :">
Setting: Morem o Lisboa-ish area.
Time: Wednesday Evening
Warnings: Slight language.

Gin both liked and disliked trains. Normally, the like outweighed the dislike, but he wasn't so sure this time. His dislike stemmed from the fact that riding the train gave much time for nostalgia to settle in. It was an emotion that bothered the ex-captain, because he felt that it was a bit unnecessary. Nostlagia only ceased to give way to things long past, things Gin was currently regretting he had turned his back on. The silver-haired shinigami knew there was no way to reverse time, so why dwell on such things? An uncharacteristic sigh flew from in between parted lips as the train pulled to a stop. Gin looked up, noting the name of the stop.

"Morem o Lisboa. Hm. Whatta mouthful." A curious expression came over his features, nostalgia now forgotten and pushed aside. He pulled himself up, this stop sounded good. Besides, it was nighttime, he didn't want to be stuck riding in circles on a train all night. Just wasn't a safe thing to do.

As Gin stepped off the train, onto the rather cold platform, he took a quick glance at his surroundings. Didn't look all that much different from that other place he had been. Nifullhaym or some other such nonsensical word. But, it did have the prospect of a place to sleep nearby, if he had read the sign nearby right. Unless "hotel" meant something other than "place to sleep", Gin assumed he was pretty ok. Then it struck him.

He had no money. Rats.

The shinigami frowned much like a little boy who hadn't gotten his way at the thought. Gin had never really needed money. And even so, the skinny ex-captain wasn't so sure this Paixao place would take the currency he used. Just his luck. Thin shoulders shrugged, he would find somewhere to go. He could feel it in his bones. Unless that was just the cold air settling under his skin, of course. Time for a little walking, a little exploring.

Not unlike old days. Now only if he had someone blonde looking for him, it would be perfect.

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She looked up from the back-alley of Morem o Lisboa and took note of the way the clouds hung overhead, thick, like a blanket for the particularly chilly evening. She supposed that Kurosaki and Zaraki were resting themselves inside, and allowing a small smile for herself she decided that little Yachiru would be enough to keep whatever momentary peace was between the boy and the captain.

Rangiku anticipated the yawn that traveled up from deep in her chest and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as if to contain it. She was still tired from the insanity of the day's earlier incident (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaorpg/49050.html), and adding to that the fact that she hadn't exactly gotten much sleep... she had every reason to be tired. She thought back briefly on the things that she'd done after she'd deposited the unconscious boy back to his own room -- she'd checked in with the manager of the hotel to reassure him that the noises were merely her enthusiastic friends dealing with certain matters (and that they would ~~try to~~ keep it down as not to inconvenience the other guests), she'd also run a couple small errands before she finally started to head back to the hotel room that she was sharing with Kenpachi and Yachiru. She didn't go in though, and instead found herself sitting down by a window in the hallway. Next thing she knew she'd whiled away the rest of the pre-dawn hours by waiting for the light to shine on the pavement. She figured she'd nodded off at some point, but unable to determine exactly when, she'd stayed put until morning strolled on by and she was asked to help once more in the kitchen.

Now it was dark again.

Her immediate chores were done, so she had the rest of the night to herself. Sighing, Ran noted the fall of her own footsteps as she walked from the back alley and onto the street fronting the hotel. She had nothing in particular in mind. And though she might have thought of venturing forth to the other places nearby, her usual inclination to go drinking didn't seem to appeal so much tonight.

She mused softly on that, a second yawn escaping her. Running a lazy hand through her hair she weighed the choice of just staying outside and heading back in. In the end, the one suggesting to stay out for a little longer won. She wasn't quite sleepy enough yet to want to turn in for the night.

She scratched the back of her neck idly and walked over the steps of the hotel to sit herself down for a bit. Her fingers reached into her robes, pulling out the little contraption that more or less linked her with the rest of this odd (not to mention slightly unnerving) world. She flipped the 'lid' of the thing open and logged into the system's network to check the message board (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaomb) if anything interesting was going on. Most the names and posts had little significance to her -- well... save for the one that Kurosaki seemed to have posted that afternoon (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaomb/12209.html). Quirking her mouth slightly, she closed the message board and pulled the pen-like tool from it's little nook, and began writing down a new entry (http://death-lily.livejournal.com/2754.html) to amuse herself.

Gin was starting to feel that prickly feeling of boredom at the back of his neck. Wandering in this city wasn't nearly as entertaining as it was in Seireitei. Not to mention he didn't particularly have anyone chasing after him, which made it even less exciting. There was nothing like a good chase to keep him occupied. The ex-captain chewed on his lips thoughtfully, ignoring the fact that they were actually rather dry. Just imagine, in a new city, somewhere very far from home, and he was bored already! He shook his head, in an almost despondent fashion, what a shame, it was time to give up the normally exciting wandering. This place just wasn't enthralling.

Or perhaps, it was.

Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Blonde locks, wavy, black shinigami uniform with that particular pink scarf. Of course! Why hadn't he thought to find her? The distant memory of her presence near the light pillar brushed across him, more mental than anything. A sneaky smile slid onto his lips. She would want to see him of course, and he would let her, oh yes he would. But she'd have to play a little bit, because otherwise, it wouldn't be any fun. The ends of his lips curled at the thought. It was rather mean, yes, but he had to try and test his ground. Rangiku would probably want to jump him and kill him at the first real chance she saw him. Not good, not good at all. He was much too young to die.

Now how to get her attention? Ah, yes, that would work.

The silver haired man began to whistle. Just a small tune, but one that his childhood friend would recognize in an instant. He then began to walk slowly past the street, heading towards the building so that by the time she looked up, all she'd catch is the back of his lightly fluttering robes.

The thought made him positively giddy.

It was almost as if her blood froze at the sound of music blown from someone's lips. Her head short of jerked up, her shoulders tensed as if she was prepped for battle that very instant, and her eyes darted around in the night as if to zone in on the source of the sound.

She nearly dropped her little toy -- she'd certainly felt the metal slip from her fingers tips, and had only caught it in time because she could rect faster than it could connect to the pavement.

The whistling faded, though it rang still in her ears. And her hands felt cold. So very, very cold.

Had she been wrong?

Rangiku rose, the wind picking up from the south, causing her robes to ripple about her feet. The shinigami was torn in two. Go after his faded silhouette, his shadow that could be no more than the result of too little sleep and an overactive imagination... or stay in the light of Morem of Lisboa, where voices echoed out towards her, floating in the air?

Tension.

It permeated the air around the shinigami, making his lips quirk just slightly at the ends. He took immense pleasure out of the fact that he was causing a little bit of discord. It was his nature, really. Some said that he was just plain mean, be Gin just saw it as a little game. What fun is life without games? There was also the fact that she was so close, so very close. She drove him crazy, making him want to run to the ends of the earth--if it would outdo his last charade. The fact remained (even in this weird world) that he hated losing control of himself, but his childhood friend made him do exactly that.

It made him tense, irritated, unpredictable.

Still, he kept up his tune, walking at a purposefully slow pace, hoping with every bit that she'd follow. Strange, because Gin was perfectly fine by himself. He could function just as easily without anyone's help.

But you can't live without her his mind whispered, feeling for a moment, like it was an entity of its very own. It sent a chill down his spine, that just wasn't something he wanted to think about. Because he knew, deep down, that the little irritating voice was right.

And oh how Gin hated when it was right.

Whatever it was that got the better of her -- whatever prodded her to follow him -- she would deal with later. Right now, the only thing that she wanted to do was to make sure that she herself (over and above the lack of sleep) wasn't making up his image.

The shinigami rose and glanced around once more before crossing the street, following the remnants of the tune that played more clearly in her head. Images of yesteryear milled around like expectant guests: dusty feet and scraped skin, palms tender from falling one too many times on the ground. A little girl panting from lack of breath, stomach empty with hunger...

She wanted to be sure. She wanted to make sure -- to prove to herself that Gin wasn't in Paixao.

But what if he is? A voice much like her own asked softly as her footfalls echoed back to her in the dark. What if he's here, what will you do then?

Her fingers itched for Haineko. She'd left her zanpakutou back in the hotel room. The managers didn't want her carrying around weapons lest she scare the guests. She'd obliged.

Now she wished she hadn't.

Tentatively she laid a hand on the alley wall, breath held to an extent, eyes narrowed as she shifted her weight to her toes, ready to pounce if the need arose.

Gin waited for a moment, before he started walking again. He had wanted to make sure she was moving before he went and gallavanted off at too fast a pace. Then she wouldn't catch any part of him, and that wouldn't make the game very fun. A wicked smile crept up on his face as he walked at his deliberate pace. Not too slow, not too fast.

Just enough to have her see his back. He had to at least dispel some of her doubt that he was here. Though, there was no use in letting her see all of him. It would take away from the lovely game he wanted to play. The silver-haired shinigami wondered what her reaction would be. Would she want to kill him? Or maybe capture him and have Kenpachi take care of him. That is, if she had met up with Kenpachi. He at least knew that she would have alot of questions, that was a definite. Ran was always asking him questions. Well, not really as of late. But that was a different story.

He didn't want to go there, so instead, he kept whistling.

((Blahblah. This post isn't great. :< But I couldn't think of anything. No action for him to go and pounce on.))

She felt her fingers flex over chilled palms as she swallowed softly, eyes still focused on his back. Yarou... she thought bitterly as she quietly took a step forward, making sure to mask her footfalls with that of his so that it was the sound of not two people walking, but one.

Why in hell are you still wearing that?

Robes flapped at his heels as he turned the corner. Green hued eyes flicked to the side, catching a glimpse at the blonde who followed him. He kept it discreet, not wanting her to notice that he knew she was following him. There was an angry look on her face, probably due to the fact that he was still wearing his captain's robes. He hadn't quite gotten used to wearing the robes Aizen had given him. These were much more comfortable. Gin had been wearing them for a while, so it was out of habit that he always chose them over anything else.

He also sort of liked wearing them because he knew if anyone from Soul Society saw him wearing them, they'd get very irritated. It lit a fire of happiness knowing he could do that just by wearing a simple robe.

She wanted to shout.

She wanted to attack.

By kami she wanted to short of stamp him out of existence because if Zaraki found out that Gin was here, in Paixao she would never get the chance to get back at him herself.

But she hesistated. And instead, Rangiku turned her eyes skyward before she leapt high into the air. Several seconds later the solidness of the rooftops assumed the role of floor beneath her sandaled feet, and she crouched, fingers curling around the edge of the roof, knuckles turning white with the fury that clawed irritated from within her chest.

She would opt for now to be a cat and prowl, watching from above.

At least this way, she put a measure of security to her side. If he would strike he had to come at her first, and at this height she could run and head back to the hotel with a few leaps. She would be in the company of friends.

Friends...

A sad look crossed her eyes briefly.

Yes. They had been that, once... long ago.

He felt her eyes on his back. The mere thought of it made that one place in-between his shoulderblades itch. It felt like she was trying to bore a houl through him, and Gin vaguely wondered if she would actually do so. Not with her eyes of course, but with the sharp end of Haineko. If she did, then death was lingering just around the next corner for him.

This was something he disliked terribly.

Unseen, his mouth shaped into as close to a frown as he had gotten in the past years. Yet, it was still as disconcerting as ever. Sure, his manic grin made people shiver sometimes, but his frown was an entirely different dilemma. Mostly because no one really knew what made him become so discomfitted. Death was one of them, certainly. He drew in a deep sigh, and the mask flew back on, cracks sealed shut as if they hadn't been there at all. Looks like the chase had ended early. Not exactly what the ex-captain had expected.

With one swift motion, Gin turned, leapt, and landed in a perfect crouch. Right in front of Rangiku, his face now so close to hers that their noses were almost touching. A particularly amused grin spread across his lips like wildfire, curling the ends like the tip of a burning paper.

"Miss me?"

She swallowed her gasp as if letting it loose to the wind would call upon something that she wouldn't appreciate at all.

--as if the unpleasant wasn't already standing before her.

Almost immediately, she felt herself spring backwards several feet, instinct taking over to put a measure of distance between them. Distance meant a slice of safety, a touch of clarity; and though it may translate to any other as a trace of hesistation (and perhaps even fear) on her part, it was what she needed right now. She would not deny herself that.

Something clawed inside. She could not explain it, and perhaps it was for the better. Hands and nails, after all, could do just as much damage as any sword. A cornered creature could still strike out in defense. If he advanced, she would have no hesitation to do the same.

Wind blew across her face. Tomorrow, she idly mused, perhaps there would be rain again. Torrents and torrents of rain. I followed him into the alley to make sure. Her eyes took in his image. The uniform, the captain's cloak. Yarou. She wanted to hiss the word out like the curse it was. I followed because it was my duty as a member of the Gotei Thirteen to determine whether or not the traitor was indeed within reach and possible apprehension.

The voice at the back of her head faded away as the wind rose and fell about her, reminding her of the waves she had seen when she'd ventured topside to retrieve a soul who lingered by the sea. Long, gossamer locks floated about her like threads set loose, and her eyes blinked as if ashes themselves were scattering in the night to blind her.

Her fingers flexed again, her heart beating a little louder as if calling out to Haineko still idle in the hotel room.

She could run. She'd considered it. But her stubborness held fast.

"Hardly."

The flatness of her reply -- of her tone of voice -- surprised her.

The heat behind her eyes did not.

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Awww, I though' maybe you woulda been missin' me. Jus' a tiny bit?" his tone was lilting, masking the other emotions that were hiding just underneath his facade. They threatened to break down the mask and spill out like water does with a broken dam. Gin paused for a moment, wondering if he should let them do just that, and the feeling bubbled a little more violently at the mere thought. No, he was one to keep his composure, not lose it. All was suppressed once more, almost as if he was trying to tighten a cork that was already in as much as it could go.

Bones creaked in somewhat of a protest as he stood, robes flapping this way and that as the wind blew past them. There was only silence, a silence that rang all wrong at this point. Normally he and Rangiku had sat in a comfortable quiet, words had not been needed. This time, it was awkward, thick, almost painful. The small amount of distance between he and Ran was so achingly large, almost looking as if a canyon marked the boundaries.

Guilt.

The feeling washed over him as now-open green eyes stared straight into a familiar shade of blue. A hint of a smile remained on his lips, but Gin had long dropped that particular route. His mask now lay behind him, smashed and irreparable. Why had he let it come to this? Why did he want to wipe away all of her confusion? He had followed Aizen, not Rangiku. She was the one who followed him, not the other way around.

Yet, why was it that he felt like his insides were crumbling? Surely, after all that planning inside of darkened rooms, speech in hushed whispers, and subtle motions, he was not thinking of leaving his path behind. But he was, and the fact disturbed him. Rangiku had been both his sacrifice and seal. She was what held his deal with Aizen, and she was also the one person that Gin had wanted to bring along. But he had known she wouldn't. Behind all her occasional laziness and drinking, Rangiku was inherently good. She was apt to follow rules, not question them. And he was the exact opposite, shady, secretive, subtle. He had questioned and Aizen had given him countless answers.

But Aizen was not here now, and there was little he could do to stop himself. This place, this world, it gave him a chance to escape what may have been a mistake.

That step forward felt like redemption.

She watched the look in his eye change, noted the step he took towards her and crouched low, fingers barely brushing the roof tile. She would pounce, she instructed herself of that much even as the alteration of emotion on his perpetually smiling face gnawed at her resolve, allowing hesitation to seep in.

"Yarou." She said the word this time and utilized shunpo to round him. She knew though that he was quicker still, that she was unarmed and that it was a reckless though bold move on her part to tangle with a captain.

Perhaps it was her temper finally taking over.

She lifted her hand to strike him.

Instinct took over as he saw her hand fly up towards his face. Long fingers wrapped around her tiny wrist, holding in place. She may have been fast, but he was definitely faster. No contest there. Green eyes looked into her blue ones, piercing, yet ashamed. He had no right to be touching her, should've just let her hit him. God only knows that Gin deserved it.

So he let go, hand dropping to his side instead of drawing her closer. That small part of him screamed in fury at how weak his defenses were against Ran. But he hadn't shaped them to be anything stronger for a reason. She was his world, just as much as he had been hers. He hadn't planned on needing defenses against his own world.

"Goin' to turn me in?" Eyes flickered oddly, feebly hiding the guilt he felt. His voice was low, soft, it sounded unnatural to his ears.

He had asked for redemption, and she was standing right here in front of him.

"I have every right to." She bit out the words faster than she might have wanted. Leaping back several feet she positioned her hands infront of her, channeling her reiatsu into a spell. "Binding Spell the first, SAI!"

She wasn't thinking. She couldn't. Too much had been bottled up for so long already.

Damn you, Gin. The air about her spiraled, as if vaccumed upwards. Rage overtook her as the memory of Momo -- dear, sweet, innocent and trusting Momo lying in an infirmary bed sprang to mind. Damn you.

Now that was something he hadn't expected. Well, sort of. She did have every right to bind him up and drag him to his death. But he hadn't expected the force of which the Kidou slammed into him. It locked up his limbs tight with a steely strength he hadn't known Rangiku was capable of, at least, not with Kidou. Then again, she was angry, and it had channeled in with the reiatsu, making it stronger.

Invisible ropes now bound him, and it was starting to hurt to breathe. A shocked look took over his expression as he dropped to his knees before falling straight over. Such was the strength of a properly aimed Kidou spell.

So now he was bound, practically helpless (he wasn't so sure he could break this particular spell), and laying almost facedown on a roof in front of someone who wanted him dead.

Everything was just peachy.

She waited.

And waited.

Kami help her, she was tired of his games.

"Get up, bakayarou." Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down on him, and her voice hitched as she walked over slowly, gold tendrils snaking about her face and neck. "Stop it." She whispered barely able to say anything at all. "Kidou is your field of expertise, not mine."

Kami help her. She was so tired of loving him.

Tile filled his vision. It was a rather nice color tile, he had to admit, but staring at pretty-colored roof tile was not his idea of fun. Especially not when his limbs were locked in a binding spell. The words Ran spoke were muffled, and he wanted to turn his head so he could hear better, but he had a hard enough time breathing as it was.

"Actually, I'll be needin' your help on this one." His reply was sheepish and slightly winded. Gin's cheeks began to color, ashamed he couldn't break a simple Kidou spell. Then again, the ex-captain hadn't eaten since coming to Paixao, and the hunger was wearing him thin. Not to mention he was dead tired from all that traveling.

Redemption had passed judgement, and he had made it.

Rangiku blinked several times, feeling her temper subside at the tone of sheepishness that coated his words. Running a hand through her hair she felt her fingers tremble as she tried to remember how to release the spell. Of all her subjects in the Academy, Kidou had never been her specialty.

"I..." she half-stammered, conflicting emotions still a whirlpool in her heart and head. Gin was a traitor. She had orders. Protocol dictated that she consult with any of the captains within the area. "I can't remember how to release it." She looked off to the side, the voice in her head fading as the wind filled her ears.

She could see the lights and the silhouette of the building. They weren't that far away. She could haul him back to the hotel, she thought. Hand him over to Zaraki-taicho as protocol dictated. They had been instructed to apprehend the traitors on sight. At all costs.

But kami help her... his face looked thinner than last she'd seen him. She knew hunger when she saw it.

She turned back to him and knelt at his side. Her hand fell on on his shoulder, and before she could tell herself to stop, the words hassed silent over her lips and the binding spell was released.

Air flew into his lungs at a surprisingly fast pace, causing him to cough. By Kami was it cold. The coughing ceased, and he sat up, blinking away the tired haze that was beginning to come over him. No, he was not going to fall asleep on a cold roof.

"Thank ya." His words were soft as he tilted his face to look at the now kneeling Rangiku. She looked the same as ever, perhaps a little thinner now that he looked. But beautiful nonetheless.

As beautiful as always. The thought slipped through before shifting away like sand in the tide. Suddenly, everything was more potent. Her scent, look, and most especially her touch. That single hand, laying on his thin shoulder, felt like it was burning hot. Much like her. In an attempt to hide it away, Gin gave her a weak smile before struggling to stand. That Kidou had definitely been a powerful one, he was shaky from the after effect, almost as if the spell was lingering on, waiting to strike.

Gin stumbled a moment, almost as if he was re-learning how to walk. It was an odd feeling to say the least. There was only silence now, mostly out his fear of saying something he shouldn't.

But this silence rang true, as something to be understood.

She stood and looked away, her lips a thin line on her face. "You'll need food." She murmured nonchalantly, eyes noting the shadows of clouds that crept over the rooftops. "You're too thin." It was cold. She smelled rain not too far away. Maybe tomorrow.

"Maa, I've a'ways been thin. But, food does sound quite temptin'." His impossibly thin arms reached skyward as he stretched out the remaining kinks from the spell. Eyes gazed up, watching with relative disinterest as dark clouds broiled overhead. A storm was on its way for sure. He could smell it.

"So, to where are we goin'? And... is anyone else here, yannow, from Soul Society?" Gin turned to look at the blonde, questions written all over his face. He wanted to ask them all, but not today.

They had time.

She wondered for a moment if he knew that Zaraki was around. Or if he knew that Kurosaki was as well, for that matter. She breathed in and began to walk in the general direction of Morem o Lisboa, the wind nipping at her calves. "There's a hotel not too far from here." The shinigami glanced idly over her shoulder, not necessarily looking at her companion -- not exactly ignoring him either. "You probably know that by now since you walked past me there."

She looked back at him, unable to resist. He seemed so at ease despite the earlier events that had them at odds with each other. It was almost too easy.

No.

It was too easy. She was entitled to her suspicion. Even if this was Gin.

No. Especially since this was Gin.

"It's late," she cleared her throat. "I doubt you have any currency on you so I wouldn't suggest hoping for a warm bed to sleep in tonight. The hotel management is oddly strict with who comes in and out, though they are relatively lax due to the massacre the other day." She paused, briefly and spoke again.

"I can get you food. But other than that you're on your own." She turned away then, leading the way.

"...A'right." He sounded small. Almost as if he was that little boy again, the one who had saved a little blonde girl by sharing his food. It was ironic now, that she was the one feeding and helping him. Funny how the tables had turned. Ran was the one who knew what she was doing, not him.

It was surreal.

"S'funny, isn't it? Feels like ol' times. Only, yer tha one who knows what they're doin'." The ex-captain's eyes were low, not wanting to look at her. He suddenly felt so ashamed, so very very ashamed. Guilt ridden, more like. It burned on his face, and he felt like his deepest secret had just been revealed to the world. Kami, why was he suddenly losing everything so fast? Was it just his hunger? Sure, his knees felt weak, and every part of him ached (his chest especially ached, feeling like someone was gripping him too tightly), but really, he was stronger than this. Or was he? Gin frowned, an expression that was most unbecoming on his thin features. He didn't even know which him was HIM. The silver-haired shinigami was torn. And he couldn't tell which side was winning, both looked and felt so alike. Now what was this? He usually prided himself in being a very decisive kind of person. Not this time around, it seemed. Decisiveness had flown away, most likely around the time his logic had.

Rangiku's last words came flying back. She had been gently reminding him that he was on his own after she got him some food. On his own. Nothing different there. No. Yes. Something clouded over his senses, blocking out the rest of reason. It hovered on the edge of conciousness, like a sniper lies on the edge of sight, waiting to strike.

Fear. And it scared him. He shouldn't be afraid.

But he was, very much so.

She heard it in the rhythm of his step, and turning, Rangiku halted a moment to look at why. The sight of him -- lost in thought, problematic -- unnerved her. She'd never seen him like this -- not even when they were children. Back then, he knew more than she and she'd never questioned that, always following his footfalls, eager to keep up.

"Something wrong...?" She asked the question softly, pulling her scarf from her arms to drape it around her neck. Temperature was dropping, and fast. She considered pointing him in the direction of the building that had poised as shelter for them two days before. She held her peace a little longer though, waiting for his reply.

"Hmm? It's... nothin'." He lied, not at all certain in what he wanted to say. She was just staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face. It was unnerving at how much they had switched roles in such a short amount of time. Gin shivered, not just from the cold air, but from the whole irony of the situation. Strange, how fate had played out like this. On the whole, it made him fearful, but there was something else.

Fate had offered up an awkward road to peace.

"Let's get outta tha cold, huh?" A half smile crept up on his lips, causing his eyes to squint like they normally did. The temperature was sure starting to drop, and the ex-shinigami was feeling it in his bones. It made him ache even more than he already had been earlier. Gin hated being cold, and he also hated being hungry. It left one irrational and irritable. Both emotions that seemed to have stricken him at this stage in the game. Mostly the irrational part. Especially when he kept walking forward, following Rangiku, just as she had done so with him.

"So, is anyone else 'ere?" He was making an effort that was more to ease his anxiety than to make small talk. Awkward silence took over.

So much for that.

She was silent for the first few seconds, and moreso when she took the leap from one roof to the other. The motion was as natural as setting one foot infront of the other, and when she landed, her hair whipped about her face like a shroud. She rose, perfectly balanced despite the height and incline of the roof surface.

Silence was not a friend but a spectator to whatever may occur.

"Zaraki-taicho is." She finally spoke, turning to face him again as they stood over the street and atop the roof across the hotel. "And the boy, Kurosaki Ichigo."

She didn't look at him though.

"Ah." The message was as clear as day. That Gin should lay low was an understatement, especially where Zaraki was involved. He decided he didn't really want to be used as a voodoo doll just yet. Seeing as how Zaraki had a score to settle with the ex-captain, Gin was pretty sure that's what he'd end up as after the latter was done with him. It didn't help that the former "rogue", Ichigo Kurosaki would probably be just as gungho to kill him.

The thought was the very farthest from comforting.

He shook it away, concentrating instead on gracefully leaping across the gap between the two buildings. The hotel lay just ahead, along with the promise of food and possible shelter. Ahh, now wouldn't that be just lovely. Gin made a mental note of thanking whoever made Zaraki; the larger Shinigami was just so absolutely bad at sensing spiritual energy. It worked in both his and Ran's favor. At least, for the time being. His legs pushed him forward after landing. As much as he was freezing, food was definitely more important at the present moment. Gin's pace was quickened by the cold if anything, and he soon leapt across the gap to the roof of the hotel.

There he stood, waiting, just as before, but yet... not.

She watched him from across the divide, the wind, the street and space between them in this place where neither of them truly belonged. How odd that it seemed it was so much harder to breathe when they were deliberately seperated and yet had every means to close the distance on their own. You went your way Gin. I don't know why, and right now, I'm not sure if I want to care for the explanations. She stepped back and rushed forward, the motion giving her a sense of freedom that made her look back on memories both happy and sad. I won't turn you in. I think you can sense that much already. But I won't be watching your back if and when the others figure out that you're around too.

The soles of her feet found gravity again, and Ran straightened, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes were veiled by a curtain of golden strands. "If they catch you I didn't know you were here." The words were spoken soft, but the flat tone of her voice masked whatever concern was there, struggling underneath.

"I'll try to see what I can get from the kitchen." A sigh as the chill surrounded them. "Don't make trouble."

And without another word she leapt down once more along the side of the building, connecting herself with terra firma before she turned, opened the back door and slipped inside.

((YES!! Oho, I am so excited <3))

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Peek-a-Boo [Closed/Complete]

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