Challenge 34: Mind Your P's and Q's
Title: Perpetual Emotion
Your Word: Perpetuity
Word Count: 417
Rating: T
Fandom or Original: Bleach
Pairings (if any): Ichihime
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: Nothing ever changes, but Tatsuki still hopes that someday something will.
She is sitting by the window and staring out of it intently when Tatsuki comes in. It isn’t surprising, that’s all Orihime does anymore, but it hurts just the same to see her wasting away by the window, her skin unnaturally pale and the flickering flame of the candle that Orihime watches by seemingly more alive than she is.
“Orihime,” Tatsuki says, and Orihime glances over her shoulder and smiles brightly. Tatsuki can almost believe that she actually is happy when she sees that smile.
“Hi Tatsuki!” Her voice holds that same cheerful note as always.
“Hi, I brought you dinner,” Tatsuki says and hesitates for a second before speaking again, weighing the pros and cons of making the offer. “We’re all going to the movies tomorrow if you want to come.”
“Oh no Tatsuki, I couldn’t! I have to stay here.” She gives Tatsuki other one of her bright, happy smiles.
“How long are you planning on waiting here, Orihime?” Tatsuki already knows the answer, but she needs to ask again, in case by some miracle it changed.
“For forever,” Orihime says looking out the window again, the candle casting dark shadows over her face. “I’ll wait here perpetually, until he comes home.” It’s only when she mentions him that Orihime ever shows even the faintest bit of sadness.
“Of course,” Tatsuki says swallowing her protests. She has said them all before, she has screamed them, begged them, pleaded them, said them a thousand different ways, in any way that she thought that Orihime might listen to them. But she never has and she never will; she just smiles at Tatsuki and says it is impossible for her to leave. So Tatsuki just sets the plate of food down and says, “I have to go. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Tatsuki!” Orihime calls after her, and the last thing that she sees before she closes the door is that smile again.
And when the door is closed, Tatsuki sinks to the ground, her head against the wall, and she squeezes her eyes shut to prevent tears from leaking out.
Because Orihime is broken and Tatsuki doesn’t know how to fix her, and Orihime doesn’t want to be fixed.
The only thing that could possibly save her is a dead man, a dead man that she refuses to believe is dead.
Because Orihime’s feelings are as perpetual as Ichigo’s death and she will wait perpetually for him to return to her one way or another.
Your Word: Perpetuity
Word Count: 417
Rating: T
Fandom or Original: Bleach
Pairings (if any): Ichihime
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: Nothing ever changes, but Tatsuki still hopes that someday something will.
She is sitting by the window and staring out of it intently when Tatsuki comes in. It isn’t surprising, that’s all Orihime does anymore, but it hurts just the same to see her wasting away by the window, her skin unnaturally pale and the flickering flame of the candle that Orihime watches by seemingly more alive than she is.
“Orihime,” Tatsuki says, and Orihime glances over her shoulder and smiles brightly. Tatsuki can almost believe that she actually is happy when she sees that smile.
“Hi Tatsuki!” Her voice holds that same cheerful note as always.
“Hi, I brought you dinner,” Tatsuki says and hesitates for a second before speaking again, weighing the pros and cons of making the offer. “We’re all going to the movies tomorrow if you want to come.”
“Oh no Tatsuki, I couldn’t! I have to stay here.” She gives Tatsuki other one of her bright, happy smiles.
“How long are you planning on waiting here, Orihime?” Tatsuki already knows the answer, but she needs to ask again, in case by some miracle it changed.
“For forever,” Orihime says looking out the window again, the candle casting dark shadows over her face. “I’ll wait here perpetually, until he comes home.” It’s only when she mentions him that Orihime ever shows even the faintest bit of sadness.
“Of course,” Tatsuki says swallowing her protests. She has said them all before, she has screamed them, begged them, pleaded them, said them a thousand different ways, in any way that she thought that Orihime might listen to them. But she never has and she never will; she just smiles at Tatsuki and says it is impossible for her to leave. So Tatsuki just sets the plate of food down and says, “I have to go. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Tatsuki!” Orihime calls after her, and the last thing that she sees before she closes the door is that smile again.
And when the door is closed, Tatsuki sinks to the ground, her head against the wall, and she squeezes her eyes shut to prevent tears from leaking out.
Because Orihime is broken and Tatsuki doesn’t know how to fix her, and Orihime doesn’t want to be fixed.
The only thing that could possibly save her is a dead man, a dead man that she refuses to believe is dead.
Because Orihime’s feelings are as perpetual as Ichigo’s death and she will wait perpetually for him to return to her one way or another.