Gen Fic- Matryoshka
What had she taken? Doubtless, if she just kept standing still, one of them would tell her eventually. Her mind scrabbled through the brief moments she'd spent near the Arrancar girls, conjuring up little more than slaps and screams. Kurosaki-kun shouted her name- of course, he would come to save her, even when he was already fighting someone else to do just that. Almost like those little dolls she saw in the store, the ones that opened up to show a tinier version inside. She had owned one once, as a very little girl, and spent hours on the floor opening the dolls up one by one and lining their upper and lower halves up in slightly crooked rows. The last one was no bigger than her thumb, and it would puzzle her little mind for hours, resting in her hand and smudged with the last bits of red bean paste from her home-made lunch. She lost that one first, and though Sora upturned every cushion and piece of furniture in the apartment, she never saw it again.
The Arrancar girl- Loly, that was her name- would not have Kurosaki-kun's interruption. Jerking Orihime's head forward, she nearly spat out her threat, voice cracking at the end. She stood stock-still, cheek pressed against Loly's skin, feeling each harsh breath force its way in and out of her desperate lungs. Something in those breaths brought back to mind the little doll, its pink paint-rouged cheeks forever smiling, its merry round chest never moving. How could something, somebody meant to be dead, still, unmoving, be so alive and so full of fire? Her eyes crawled up slowly to the chasm framed in bone, static, and yet matching the lone pink paint-eye in rage. Loly caught her gaze and threw her to the ground with a noise of disgust, pressing her head to the cold marble floor with a trembling hand. Orihime lay still, letting them tear off layer after layer, cloth ripping and straining like cheap, painted plywood. Her reflection watched back, eyes full of pity for this silly girl who wouldn't hurt them, simply because of a breath. Simply because of the oddly close feel of Loly's hold, if only the pain and the anger and everything in sight could've gone away. Simply because of a twisted vow to protect someone close at any cost, a warped reflection of the words that had sent her down this path. For just a brief second, she could see how close they had come to being one another- a stroke of misfortune here, a dab of pain there before they left the factory. Just as she slipped from Yammy's crushing, careless hand, a single word flew out from her throat, only to die in the open air. There was no waiting, though, only another little piece of the doll lost, thrown away, only another 'thing', 'enemy', never alive and never worth saving.
I'm not too happy with this one- it's just random thoughts about Orihime's sympathy for the Arrancar. O fic muse, where art thou? Dx
The Arrancar girl- Loly, that was her name- would not have Kurosaki-kun's interruption. Jerking Orihime's head forward, she nearly spat out her threat, voice cracking at the end. She stood stock-still, cheek pressed against Loly's skin, feeling each harsh breath force its way in and out of her desperate lungs. Something in those breaths brought back to mind the little doll, its pink paint-rouged cheeks forever smiling, its merry round chest never moving. How could something, somebody meant to be dead, still, unmoving, be so alive and so full of fire? Her eyes crawled up slowly to the chasm framed in bone, static, and yet matching the lone pink paint-eye in rage. Loly caught her gaze and threw her to the ground with a noise of disgust, pressing her head to the cold marble floor with a trembling hand. Orihime lay still, letting them tear off layer after layer, cloth ripping and straining like cheap, painted plywood. Her reflection watched back, eyes full of pity for this silly girl who wouldn't hurt them, simply because of a breath. Simply because of the oddly close feel of Loly's hold, if only the pain and the anger and everything in sight could've gone away. Simply because of a twisted vow to protect someone close at any cost, a warped reflection of the words that had sent her down this path. For just a brief second, she could see how close they had come to being one another- a stroke of misfortune here, a dab of pain there before they left the factory. Just as she slipped from Yammy's crushing, careless hand, a single word flew out from her throat, only to die in the open air. There was no waiting, though, only another little piece of the doll lost, thrown away, only another 'thing', 'enemy', never alive and never worth saving.
I'm not too happy with this one- it's just random thoughts about Orihime's sympathy for the Arrancar. O fic muse, where art thou? Dx