The Hour of Separation {Ichigo/Orihime}
Title: The Hour of Separation
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 696
Summary: No matter what, her feelings towards him would always remain the same.
A/N: Written for prompt #2: a dying body of Table #9, 5_prompts.
The barren wasteland stretched out before her, the steamy atmosphere thick with the scent of blood and sweat. It spoke of carnage, of lost hope and faith, of the bitter struggle that had taken place there just a while ago.
A struggle between two beasts, one fighting for his own gain and another for what was precious to him, what he held dear to his heart.
That battle had exhausted him, worn him out to the point where he couldn't even move a muscle. Once he had fallen, he had tried many times to rise again. He always did manage to get to his feet every time, but now, he found that he just couldn't move. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't. His limbs wouldn't listen to him, and it only pained him more when he couldn't reach out and brush away the tears that fell from her eyes.
Those teardrops landed on his bare chest, mingling with blood, like light splashes of transparent naivety onto darkness. He hated it, hated to see her so broken like this. Guilt overrode him, plunging knives into his heart as he was the one to make her feel this way. He thought he could fight that beast and protect his friends, protect her…
But now he knew that being overconfident was just a waste of time.
He closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh, and she cried out to him, told him not to go to sleep. She pressed her palms to his side, trying to heal him, but he couldn't feel anything any longer. All he could feel was the bitter cold biting into his skin, grinding against his bones, and it was only by sheer power of will that he forced his eyes open. Just to see her. Just for her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and angry, fearful and in a panic, but he could see that she was trying her very best to stop it. She was trying hard to be strong, for him as well as their friends. He was proud of her for that, but he was certain that he wouldn't be able to make it to commend on her bravery. He so very wished that he could, but life wasn't always fair. Now he knew that it wasn't possible to claim everything out of life.
He had wanted to protect his friends, his home, but now he was losing her. And he could do nothing to stop it.
She seemed to be aware of that as well, for she slowly ceased her healing and fixated her eyes on his face. The pain and hurt and fear in those beautiful orbs of hers struck a chord within him. He mentally cursed his limbs once again for being so useless, but she bent down and took him in her arms and held him to her chest. Her tears were incessant, wet against his neck, but a sob never left her. His fingers twitched, arms wanting so much to wrap themselves around her, but still his nerves wouldn't respond.
"Sorry…Inoue…" he managed, voice hoarse from screaming. By that apology, he hoped that maybe she'd understand why he chose to sacrifice himself for them, for her. He wanted her safe, wanted nothing to lay its grimy hands on her, wanted her all to himself.
But now he wasn't capable of all those things.
She squeezed him tighter, burying her face in his shoulder without a care in world as to the bloodstains smearing her skin. She breathed in his natural, earthly scent, taking that in as well as the coppery smell of blood. She closed her eyes shut.
"I'll always love you, Kurosaki-kun."
And, with a faint smile on his lips, Ichigo let his eyelids drift to a close and allowed her sweet, sweet whisper lull him into oblivion.
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 696
Summary: No matter what, her feelings towards him would always remain the same.
A/N: Written for prompt #2: a dying body of Table #9, 5_prompts.
The barren wasteland stretched out before her, the steamy atmosphere thick with the scent of blood and sweat. It spoke of carnage, of lost hope and faith, of the bitter struggle that had taken place there just a while ago.
A struggle between two beasts, one fighting for his own gain and another for what was precious to him, what he held dear to his heart.
That battle had exhausted him, worn him out to the point where he couldn't even move a muscle. Once he had fallen, he had tried many times to rise again. He always did manage to get to his feet every time, but now, he found that he just couldn't move. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't. His limbs wouldn't listen to him, and it only pained him more when he couldn't reach out and brush away the tears that fell from her eyes.
Those teardrops landed on his bare chest, mingling with blood, like light splashes of transparent naivety onto darkness. He hated it, hated to see her so broken like this. Guilt overrode him, plunging knives into his heart as he was the one to make her feel this way. He thought he could fight that beast and protect his friends, protect her…
But now he knew that being overconfident was just a waste of time.
He closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh, and she cried out to him, told him not to go to sleep. She pressed her palms to his side, trying to heal him, but he couldn't feel anything any longer. All he could feel was the bitter cold biting into his skin, grinding against his bones, and it was only by sheer power of will that he forced his eyes open. Just to see her. Just for her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and angry, fearful and in a panic, but he could see that she was trying her very best to stop it. She was trying hard to be strong, for him as well as their friends. He was proud of her for that, but he was certain that he wouldn't be able to make it to commend on her bravery. He so very wished that he could, but life wasn't always fair. Now he knew that it wasn't possible to claim everything out of life.
He had wanted to protect his friends, his home, but now he was losing her. And he could do nothing to stop it.
She seemed to be aware of that as well, for she slowly ceased her healing and fixated her eyes on his face. The pain and hurt and fear in those beautiful orbs of hers struck a chord within him. He mentally cursed his limbs once again for being so useless, but she bent down and took him in her arms and held him to her chest. Her tears were incessant, wet against his neck, but a sob never left her. His fingers twitched, arms wanting so much to wrap themselves around her, but still his nerves wouldn't respond.
"Sorry…Inoue…" he managed, voice hoarse from screaming. By that apology, he hoped that maybe she'd understand why he chose to sacrifice himself for them, for her. He wanted her safe, wanted nothing to lay its grimy hands on her, wanted her all to himself.
But now he wasn't capable of all those things.
She squeezed him tighter, burying her face in his shoulder without a care in world as to the bloodstains smearing her skin. She breathed in his natural, earthly scent, taking that in as well as the coppery smell of blood. She closed her eyes shut.
"I'll always love you, Kurosaki-kun."
And, with a faint smile on his lips, Ichigo let his eyelids drift to a close and allowed her sweet, sweet whisper lull him into oblivion.