(Untitled)
Name(s): Ichigo, Orihime
Location: Hufflepuff Common Room
Week: 35
Time: Monday evening
Rating: I can't imagine it going above PG
( cut subject )
Location: Hufflepuff Common Room
Week: 35
Time: Monday evening
Rating: I can't imagine it going above PG
( cut subject )
She paused at the door, taking a breath to steady herself. If she burst into tears in front of everyone she'd only make them worry. She was going to be fine. With another deep breath, she set off down the stairs.
She stopped when she saw Ichigo at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her. Looking up the stairs at her with that worried look on his face. "Ku-kurosaki-kun-" She began, suddenly unsure that this had been a good idea. The desire to run down the rest of the stairs and cry into his shoulder was almost overwhelming. But she couldn't.
She couldn't.
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Orihime had been crying.
Abruptly, Ichigo wished he was five again and believed that anyone could become a ghost, just so he could reassure her. The breath she took to steady herself was painfully obvious, and it was around about then that all of his awkwardness and stress and freaking out about whatever the hell it was that he was feeling for her stopped mattering.
Above anything, everything else, Orihime was his friend. Nakama, if was getting cultural about it. And the world new that Ichigo wouldn't let anything hurt his friends if he could help it.
"Oi, Orihime," he said, voice almost gentle, scowl nearly entirely gone now. He didn't even register his use of her given name.
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She kept her eyes on her feet though, focusing on breathing and not bursting into tears. And not looking at Ichigo, in case she stopped doing either of those two things.
She forced herself to look up when he spoke. "Hey~" she said simply, and even turned the corners of her mouth up a fraction in a vague semblance of a smile. The important thing was that he thougt she was fine. Because she was fine. She was going to be fine.
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He didn't even think about it, which for him was not all that strange. What was strange was that the moment Orihime got close enough, Ichigo's arms acted of their own accord and carefully enfolded her in a hug.
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But breathing in, enfolded in Ichigo's embrace, she couldn't stop the tears from spilling from her eyes. Why? Why was it that people had to die like this?
Why did she always let them down?
Slowly her own arms circled around Ichigo's back, clutching the fabric of his shirt as her tears turned to heaving sobs.
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He should have been able to do something than just stand there. He tried to think of something, anything to say, but his mind came up completely blank.
:Useless,: the bastard whispered in the back of his mind, Ichigo kicked it the hell away. There was no room for him right now in this place with just Ichigo and Orihime. His arms tightened around her slightly as she gripped her his shirt and sobbed.
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But this- Ichigo's arms around her- this was solid and comforting and just what she needed. The tears stemmed, eventually, and she hiccuped just once as her shoulders stopped shaking.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her face against his chest and sighed deeply, content just to hold Ichigo and be held, and to listen to the rythmn of his heart beat in his chest.
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But now wasn't the time to be dwelling on whatever revelations Ichigo may or may not have had in reference to his feelings for Orihime. None of his issues mattered right then. The only important thing was giving his friend as much comfort as he possibly could. If that meant hugging her until she...until no more hugging was required, then Ichigo would deal.
"Hey," he said quietly, when he was pretty sure she'd cried herself out for the time being. "You wanna go for a walk, or something? Or even just sit down? Or something?"
No one had ever accused Ichigo of being good with words. Or something.
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"A- a walk maybe?" she agreed, wiping her eyes on the corner of her sleeve. She was aware that anyone in the common room would have been disturbed by her loud crying, and she didn't think- no, she didn't want to have to talk to anyone else at the moment; even though the heavy weight in her chest had eased so that she no longer felt as though she might break under the strain of it.
Tomorrow things would be normal and she'd keep her distance again and work out the consequences, but today... Orihime looked up at Ichigo and tried another smile.
Today she would be terribly selfish.
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As they left the common room she delicatelt removed her wrist from his grip (his hands were much bigger than hers too, and she marveled for a moment at how gentle they could be). After pausing a second to think those thoughts, she took his hand in hers, feeling that she had to hold on to something or she'd be overwhelmed by the sadness.
She hoped Ichigo would forgive her for being so selfish.
"I- I asked Nii-san to say goodbye to Professor Iroh for me." she said suddenly, still looking at her feet as they wandered along. "Professor Rangiku says that they'll probably become good friends too. But-" She paused, unsure of how to voice her doutbt.
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And that was a difference. Ichigo was used to hauling on very small wrists, dragging tiny people like Rukia and his sisters around. Orihime's wrist was small, but not overly so, and Ichigo didn't know why he was noticing these freaking details anyway.
The wrist moved, then, as they left the Common Room, twisting slightly as Orihime removed it from his grasp. He shouldn't have felt disappointed, but he did. Right up until her fingers tentatively threaded through the gaps between his.
There was a brief second's pause before Ichigo's brain started working against. Without saying a word, his fingers gripped hers as comfortingly as he knew how.
He turned his head as she spoke, and watched her watching her feet while he listened. Ichigo had his own, more than cynical views on death, views that he definitely wasn't about to share with Orihime. But he didn't want to lie to her, either.
His fingers twitched around hers slightly as they walked.
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"It feels childish, sometimes." she finished quietly.
Hime, or some part of her at least, was aware that she was... different. That other people didn't always think about things, or see them the same way she did. And most of the time she paid it no mind, blissfully content to simply be herself ( ... )
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She listened silently as he spoke, nodding and looking up at him out of the corner of her eye once or twice. She wondered how he'd known about the guilt she was barely even willing to aknowledge herself.
She wasn't completely convinced yet that there was absolutely nothing she could have done. But hearing Ichigo say so was relieving and comforting and Hime felt as though a giant mossy-covered craggy boulder, which had been sitting in her chest and blocking any light, had been rolled over and let the light shine in again.
"Thank you," she said quietly after a few moments, hoping the two words could convey how thankful she was for him, and his words and the comfort she was taking from his very presence.
Feeling the reassuring pressure of his thumb across her hand, she rested her head against his shoulder. She resisted the urge to snuggle against it, but gave in after a second or two, overcome by her feelings of relief and exhaustion.
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