Outside the Weapons Locker, Sunday Afternoon

[puppy_fair]

Zack was putting one foot in front of the other on his way across the causeway. There was no thought involved in this, only motion, only the one-two rhythm of his legs working, of the soles of his boots hitting the ground ahead of him again and again in quick, steady succession. He walked. Across the causeway, across the island. Back toward the

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[flowering_mind]

Just because the island was practically dead didn't mean she wasn't busy. (She was always busy.) Which meant that, when Ino bounced down the stairs and then down the hall to where the weapons locker was, she had training on the mind and rapid-fire contemplation of how to deal with the problems and weaknesses she knew she had...

And then those thoughts came to a skittering halt as she noticed Zack.

Sitting down and not looking very... Zack-like at all. Where was his bounce? Why was he sitting outside of the weapons locker? ... Why was his sword even larger than normal?

Ino silently padded over to him knelt down beside him, head-tilted to watch his expressions--his face was injured, his sword wasn't his own; she knew his normal sword--and studied him for a long moment before she spoke.

"Hi, Zack," she said gently. Quietly. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was upset. That something had gone dreadfully wrong on his mission. Ino's heart twisted just looking at him.

Zack was... Zack. Whatever happened to him mattered to

[puppy_fair]

There were words, there. A familiar voice that edged in around the corners of whatever fog had settled into his head. And he wanted to look up, and some piece of him was desperate to smile at her, to grin and bounce and to hug on and tell her that he was fine. That was what he always did.

But right now, he didn't have it in him. He wasn't crying. He refused to break down and cry now that he was back here. But he couldn't quite look up far enough to meet her eyes. Breathing was hard enough as it was.

He did, however, manage a small nod. Acknowledgement that she'd been heard. That was better than nothing. It was going to have to be.

[flowering_mind]

She waited patiently for him to acknowledge her. Anyone who said she lacked patience didn't realize that she saved her patience for the important things. This was important. This was Zack crumpled on the floor and radiating misery.

He nodded. Ino let out the breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding and carefully raised one hand to brush a bit of his hair back.

Ino wouldn't ask him if he was okay. He was obviously anything but okay. The only physical injury she could spot was the one on his cheek.

Emotionally, though...

"Do you mind if I stay here awhile?" Leaving him alone wasn't… wasn't much of an option, no.

She didn't know what was wrong. Why he had a different sword. But she'd be dammed if she'd leave him sitting in a hallway by himself.

[puppy_fair]

He shook his head almost immediately, then. Zack didn't want to be left alone. He'd been left alone far, far too often, these past few days. And right now... Right now, he could really use somebody nearby.

He licked his lips, as though that was somehow going to do something about the catch in his throat, and about how difficult it was to find words, right now. It really didn't do much good.

"Hey," he managed, and that was about that before he was shutting his mouth and willing himself to breathe, to keep his composure.

[flowering_mind]

She settled down next to him, at the shake of his head, and carefully looped one arm though his. Physical contact. She was here, see? He wasn't alone. As she moved, Ino was cautious to avoid touching the sword; her lap was low enough that it didn't touch her even as she studied it and ran her fingers comfortingly up and down the space of Zack's arm.

"Hey," Ino replied, casting a sideways glance up at him. "I'll keep you company. I don't mind."

What she'd mind is if anyone tried to take her away from him at the moment.

[puppy_fair]

Touch. Ino. Ino's hand.

Zack nodded a little again, leaning sideways slightly. Closer to her. Warmth. Not alone. He wasn't alone. Okay.

Okay.

He owed her an explanation. Some sort of reason for him being on the floor trying not to sob over somebody else's sword. He could do that. He could open his mouth, and make words.

"Angeal," was about the beginning and end of it. But it probably said more than enough.

[flowering_mind]

Angeal. Angeal.

Carefully her free hand hovered above the sword. "This is his, isn't it?"

Ino wouldn't say 'was'. Not now.

And now she was going to shift, back up on her knees so she could snake her arms around him and hold him in a hug. He needed a hug. He was a huge, warm, leaning presence next to her and he needed that hug.

She had a million hugs for him. A billion and more. "I'm so sorry."

The words were inadequate. Ino's arms tightened around him in hopes that that could better express her sympathy. Not pity, never pity. But sorrow and sympathy and the fact that she wished it had fallen out any other way than Angeal dying?

That. That exactly.

[puppy_fair]

It was Angeal's sword. It was. Had been. He'd given it to Zack. It was Zack's sword, now. But he was nodding again, and leaning back into her, and-- And to hell with choking back his tears. A hiccup escaped, and then the rest seemed to cascade out of him like a waterfall.

He needed to cry. Angeal was dead.

He'd killed him.

[flowering_mind]

She'd never go 'shhhh' at him or say it was alright or anything so belittling that people seemed to think would help.

"It's okay to cry," she whispered, her arms around him. Ino was never letting him go. "I won't tell. You don't have to be strong right now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You can cry." Over and over; a soft litany. Giving him permission to be weak. He needed that permission. He spent too much time keeping himself together.

She could hold him while he fell apart.

And anyone else would have to go through her to get to him right this moment. While he was leaning against her, she had to brace herself on the floor, a tiny bit of chakra to stabilize herself because he was heavy and he was weak and she had to be strong for him right now and that meant she couldn't give ground.

She couldn't move mountains. But she could shelter him and hold him and offer what comfort she could. It was okay to cry. He needed it.

[puppy_fair]

He didn't want to cry. SOLDIERs didn't cry. Heroes didn't cry. But he wasn't a hero. He was just some kid with a sword and a uniform. He couldn't even save Angeal. He'd tried so hard, and in the end, he hadn't done good enough, and now Angeal was gone.

He didn't want to cry, but he did, and somewhere in there he managed to find the presence of mind to twist around to wrap his arms around her. And there, he'd just cling until he cried himself out.

"I can't go inside," he murmured, once he was tired and lightheaded and done.

He couldn't just put Angeal's sword away. Not yet.

[flowering_mind]

She pressed a very soft kiss to his hair, paying no attention to her very damp shirt or the fact that he was holding her tight enough that her ribs ached. None of that mattered and she'd never tell him to loosen his grip.

Ino trailed her fingers through his hair. "I know."

And she loathed Fandom's dorm rules for that. No wonder he'd been sitting out here. Putting Angeal's sword away...

"Did you want to go outside, instead?"

[puppy_fair]

Outside? Back outside? There was a breeze outside, and it was just stuffy in here, where they expected him to cram all he had left of Angeal into a locker.

Outside sounded like a very good idea right about now.

He nodded a bit.

"That'd be good," he admitted. His voice sounded entirely too raw, too tired for his liking. He attempted to compensate with a small twitch of a smile. It wasn't much, but if he focused, it might stay there for a minute, even.

[flowering_mind]

She held on to him for a moment longer before reluctantly letting him go. "You'll have to let me go," she said softly, a tiny part of her amused. The rest of her aching for him and his tiny tiny attempt at a smile.

"I'll still be right here with you."

[puppy_fair]

"Oh... Right." Let her go, then. Zack managed that, loosening his grip and vaguely aware just how tightly he'd been clinging to her in the first place. There was a bit of a twinge of guilt hitting him in the chest at that realization, and he turned an apologetic glance her way before reaching for the hilt of the Buster Sword.

It wasn't heavy to him, per se. It was a new, solid weight in his hand. It was something that he wasn't used to, and he stared at it as he picked it up, pushing himself to his feet at the same time.

A ragged breath later, and he was pressing his forehead against the cool, solid metal surface of the blade for a moment. This sword was honour, and dreams. It was Angeal.

"Let's go," he said a moment later, as he finally put the sword away onto his back.

[flowering_mind]

She ached but none of that showed on her face or in her movements as she stood up and silently waited while he paid respect to his memories. He had nothing to be sorry for. She could handle it--it was nothing to what he was dealing with.

Angeal. She wished she'd met him.

Ino reached for his hand once he'd put the sword away. "Come on," she said, "I know where we can go."

It was a vague idea but it was the only one she had right now.

[puppy_fair]

Vague ideas were better than anything Zack had, at the moment. He'd probably just end up dragging himself back outside, and then sitting in the grass, instead.

He nodded a little, closing his hand around hers and attempting another smile. This one was directed somewhere toward his feet, and lasted a few seconds or so.

"Lead on."