Spoiler through 423: Apology Accepted, Part 3 of 6songsparrw1October 20 2010, 20:33:33 UTC
Apology Accepted, Part 3
Shocked, Ichigo jumped up from the floor and started toward her, but froze at the mention of Rukia. Glancing over her shoulder, Orihime saw at once his stricken face, and the pain in his eyes. Her worst fears were confirmed, then. She turned away, burying her face in her hands. She sank into a sobbing heap on the floor at the foot of the window, finally overcome. He loves Rukia. Her jealous heart burned in her chest like a thousand needles of ice. The cold reality hit her like a fist in the stomach. For me, he had lost Rukia, lost his powers, lost his ability to protect those he loved. Despite all he’d endured, and all he’d risked, he was alone again. Ichigo and Rukia would have no life together on an equal basis. He was a human again, and their bereft and vulnerable friend Rukia returned to Seireitei, no longer assigned to the World of the Living. Rukia had risked Soul Society’s punishment yet again to save Orihime, and gotten brutally run through by Kaien’s hollow for her trouble.
Ichigo stood frozen three feet from the window, and helplessly watched Orihime’s breakdown. He would rather face an espada’s resurrecion, than see his friend crying like this. He didn’t know what to do here. Was she having some sort of delayed reaction to the kidnapping? Was Inoue losing her mind? His alarm outstripped the near overwhelming desire to bolt. Instinctively he turned her shoulders with great care, as one would straighten a lily bent by the rain. He dropped next to her on the floor, and drew her close, wrapping his arms tightly around the small body wracked with sobs.
“Inoue? He spoke in a low voice, “Inoue, please look at me.” He pried her hands away from her face, gently untangling them from the fragrant silk of her hair. Her face, slick with tears and snot, was clearly mortified. Lifting her chin, he carefully wiped her tears and dripping nose with his fingers and then onto his jeans and shirt, grimacing only a little at this slippery wreck of her face. Her wet gray eyes regarded him fearfully, searching his eyes.
Shocked, Ichigo jumped up from the floor and started toward her, but froze at the mention of Rukia. Glancing over her shoulder, Orihime saw at once his stricken face, and the pain in his eyes. Her worst fears were confirmed, then. She turned away, burying her face in her hands. She sank into a sobbing heap on the floor at the foot of the window, finally overcome. He loves Rukia. Her jealous heart burned in her chest like a thousand needles of ice. The cold reality hit her like a fist in the stomach. For me, he had lost Rukia, lost his powers, lost his ability to protect those he loved. Despite all he’d endured, and all he’d risked, he was alone again. Ichigo and Rukia would have no life together on an equal basis. He was a human again, and their bereft and vulnerable friend Rukia returned to Seireitei, no longer assigned to the World of the Living. Rukia had risked Soul Society’s punishment yet again to save Orihime, and gotten brutally run through by Kaien’s hollow for her trouble.
Ichigo stood frozen three feet from the window, and helplessly watched Orihime’s breakdown. He would rather face an espada’s resurrecion, than see his friend crying like this. He didn’t know what to do here. Was she having some sort of delayed reaction to the kidnapping? Was Inoue losing her mind? His alarm outstripped the near overwhelming desire to bolt. Instinctively he turned her shoulders with great care, as one would straighten a lily bent by the rain. He dropped next to her on the floor, and drew her close, wrapping his arms tightly around the small body wracked with sobs.
“Inoue? He spoke in a low voice, “Inoue, please look at me.” He pried her hands away from her face, gently untangling them from the fragrant silk of her hair. Her face, slick with tears and snot, was clearly mortified. Lifting her chin, he carefully wiped her tears and dripping nose with his fingers and then onto his jeans and shirt, grimacing only a little at this slippery wreck of her face. Her wet gray eyes regarded him fearfully, searching his eyes.
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