#HAHA ANGSTTTTTTTT

[rangikuxmatsumoto]

From her position, her head lulled back slightly, her pale gaze taking in the up-close outline of his profile before dropping to their interlocked hands. The palm of her thumb glided over his knuckles once, then twice, before stilling. A long, slow exhale kept his questions fresh, lingering in the silence that followed. There was a torrent of thoughts held behind a floodgate – his words a tiny chisel, puncturing her defenses. ‘You’re not a burden’, another puncture, ‘Has anyone done anything for you?’ pierced again, ‘Tell me’ another crack, ‘Tell me’ another break, ‘Tell me’ catastrophic damage.

She wrenched herself away from him, hauling herself up and crossing half the distance of the living room – back to him, hands fidgeting from crossing against her chest, resting upon her hips, raking through her hair, before clenching in fists at her side.

“I feel like I’m a burden,” her tone steady, “I have for a while – since Gi” she caught herself, exhaling slowly to keep her emotions in check, “…since the before the Quincy War. It’s only gotten worse since then. I know we all faced our shortcomings in some ways, we took losses. And while I feel like everyone else has shouldered those defeats, faced their shortcomings, and carried on – I feel like I’m trudging through quicksand. What happened then didn’t help me any…”

“There’s days I feel like I’ve moved past everything but then there are days where I feel like every step I take; I take two steps back.” At length she finally tossed her glance over her shoulder in his direction, a soft, telltale shimmer upon her pale gaze – unshed tears. She managed to blink them back, long lashes fluttering close to prevent them from falling. “I don’t expect anyone to ask me if I’m okay – it’s easier to assume that I am. It’s how we’re supposed to be after all. We’re soldiers, aren’t we.” She manages a half turn, one arm crossing over her torso to rub at the opposite forearm, graze breaking from him to stare at the wall across from her.

“…I just don’t know if I make a very good one…”

And he did look around Rangiku's apartment, confusion settled into his eyebrows as she asked whether or not her sanctuary resembled anything like his division office. Only to roll his eyes when she explained that he too, was playing hooky. "Right right, yea guess 'm playin' hooky then. Wouldn't be the first time and wouldn't be the last."

As the mirth on Rangiku's face disappeared, the corner of her lips drooping down and a frown settling on her face, he wonders if he had fucked up by asking that question. He was never one to skirt around an issue, always blunt - perhaps to a fault. But he couldn't keep sitting here, pretending like everything was okay when he knew it wasn't.

His eyes follow her closely as she comes closer, until her head finally rests upon his shoulder. The hand that grasped his was so firm, so tight that he couldn't help but grip her hand in return, in an attempt to offer her some solace and comfort for the talk that he knew was coming.

"Yer not a burden, Rangiku-san... why would ya say that..?" he whispers, his voice coming out small and a bit choked, the emotions getting caught in his throat. "I wouldn't ask if I truly didn't wanna know... ya always do so much fer others... but has anyone done anything fer ya? I have enough room on my plate fer ya too. So. Tell me."