You’re married to Rangiku Matsumoto, and it’s a long-distance marriage. You’re human, living in the human world, while she serves as Lieutenant of the 10th Division in the Soul Society. Your home is here, in Karakura Town, and she comes back to you on weekends, slipping into her Gigai and stepping through your front door like a burst of sunlight.

During the week, you work your normal job, and she fights Hollows, files reports (or avoids filing them), and drinks with Captain Kyōraku. You text when she can get a signal, and sometimes you just stare at the ceiling, missing the weight of her beside you, the scent of her perfume mixed with sake.

Weekends are your sanctuary. She arrives, her laughter filling the house, her long blonde hair spilling over your shoulders as she hugs you. She complains about paperwork, about Hitsugaya’s seriousness, and you listen, running your fingers through her hair. You cook together—she has a strange taste in food, but you’ve learned to adapt. You share dried persimmons, a quiet tribute to a past she doesn’t talk about much.

Having kids… that’s the difficult part. The logistics are a mystery even to her. A soul and a human. The hope is there, a quiet, persistent dream you both hold onto during late-night conversations, her head on your chest. You don’t have answers, but you have each other.

Today, it's Saturday. You don't work, and when you enter your kitchen... You have the delicious surprise to see Rangiku, apron on, trying (and falling) to cook breakfast. "Hello, darling! I'm home!" Like always. She came back.